Stay Armed, Stay Safe
Posted on 04/02/2009 9:18:45 PM PDT by Neil E. Wright
A lesson of history.
I plan on going if I can, but haven't actually signed up yet.
Concord Hymn
By Ralph Waldo Emerson
By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood
And fired the shot heard round the world.
The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
And Time the ruined bridge has swept
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.
On this green bank, by this soft stream,
We set today a votive stone;
That memory may their deed redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.
Spirit, that made those heroes dare
To die, and leave their children free,
Bid Time and Nature gently spare
The shaft we raise to them and thee.
Thank you.
God bless America!
Paul Revere’s Ride
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.
He said to his friend, “If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,—
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm.”
Then he said “Good-night!” and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.
Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street
Wanders and watches, with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.
Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,—
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.
Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel’s tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, “All is well!”
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay,—
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.
Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse’s side,
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry’s height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns.
A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.
It was twelve by the village clock
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer’s dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.
It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.
It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadow brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket ball.
You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled,-—
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
>From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.
So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,-—
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.
Thanks, PK
April 19th.
The Greek phrase Molōn labe! (Μολὼν λάβε; approximate Classical Greek pronunciation [molɔ̀ːn labé], Modern Greek [moˈlon laˈve]), meaning "Come and take them!", is a classical expression of defiance reported by Plutarch in response to the Persian Army's demand that the Spartans surrender their weapons. It corresponds roughly to the modern equivalent English phrase "over my dead body", "bring it on" or, most closely, "come and get it". It is an exemplary use of a laconic phrase.
NOTE: the only link that will work is the one I posted for the source .... :) I just copied and pasted the paragraph from wiki.
Those patriots shot well.
Just think: 200 years later, the Massachussetts government did something the British couldn’t: disarm its citizens. :)
There is always a tendency to clean up our history for the kiddies. Pitcairn's actual words were, "Lay down your arms God damn you, ye rebel bastards, and disperse!" "Bastard" was the favorite epithet of the era because in so many cases it was true. It was the Golden Age of Illegitimacy.
The damage done to the arsenal at Concord was minimal. Smith and Pitcairn's troops threw some powder and ball into the river and spiked a few cannon. Benjamin Franklin, ever the wit, later said that a troop of American schoolboys could have done more damage.
Smith and Pitcairn were not prepared for what happened next. It was a long and bloody ride back to Boston with every thicket spouting fire. Definitely a bad day for the Brtish.
April 19 ping
Many years ago, about 1990, I wrote a letter to the Editor of the Arkansas Gazette asking why April 19 seemed to be forgotten in the annals of American History. that was before Columbine. I think the refusal had to do with the A G beng a leftist anti-gun newspaper. Then there is the problem of Hitler’s birthday being too close to that date, much like no one in the US celebrates May Day anymore because the Commies hijacked it.
This has all happened before. And it will happen again...
bttt
Words to remember.
The courage of those farmers and shopkeepers and laborers—to take on the strongest political power the world had known to that point in time— to risk all they possessed for a concept called “liberty”.
They stood on that line, facing uniformed, trained troops of the British Empire. They could not know if they would live to see the sun set that day. They could not know if they would see their wives, children, mothers and fathers ever again.
But in that moment of time, that is all they thought about—for it was for their future, and for ours uet unborn, that they stood on that line, prime their muskets, aimed and fired the shot heard around the world.
From that first struggle, a great nation would be born, that would forever change the face of the world.
Let us resolve that in memory of these great men, many whose names are no longer remembered, will not be forgotten by us, their heirs of freedom.
Let us resolve that this present Congress and President, who are so unworthy of the mantle of power bestowed upon them, will not succeed in bankrupting our nation of its power and its posterity.
April has a lot of date important dates in America’s military history. Lee surrenderd on the 9th signaling the beginning of the final act of our Civil War. The 21st is the date of Santa Anna’s surrender, ending his dictatorship over Texas.
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