# Patriot's Day



## VirginiaHuguenot (Apr 18, 2005)

*Patriot\'s Day*

It's called Patriot's Day because April 19 is the anniversary of the Battles of Lexington and Concord (1775). It also happens to be the anniversary of the first blood shed in the War Between the States (in Baltimore, MD, 1861). Moreover, it is the anniversary of the Nazi attack on the Warsaw ghetto (1943), the inferno at Waco (1993), and the bombing at Oklahoma City (1995).

Other events in _church_ history on April 19:

* 1529 -- The name "Protestant" was first given to the Reformers who _protested_ at the Diet of Speyer Charles V's efforts to crush Lutheranism; 

* 1552 -- Death of Olavus Petri, Swedish Reformer; and 

* 1560 -- Death of Philip Melancthon, German Reformer.

[Edited on 4-18-2005 by VirginiaHuguenot]


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## Plimoth Thom (Apr 18, 2005)

"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."

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


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## VirginiaHuguenot (Apr 18, 2005)

Thanks! I always enjoy reading Longfellow.


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## SolaScriptura (Apr 18, 2005)

Wow... Andrew, where do you find all these bits of info?
I know that being a paralegal must have helped you become quite the researcher... but man!

[Edited on 4-19-2005 by SolaScriptura]


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## VirginiaHuguenot (Apr 19, 2005)

> _Originally posted by SolaScriptura_
> Wow... Andrew, where do you find all these bits of info?
> I know that being a paralegal must have helped you become quite the researcher... but man!
> 
> [Edited on 4-19-2005 by SolaScriptura]



Ben, I spent about three years developing a calendar of Reformation and World History dates of significance. It was a hobby of mine. Being able to research at my job too is fun.


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## Preach (Apr 19, 2005)

Andrew,
I live in a suburb of Baltimore but I never knew that first blood of the war between the states was shed here. Can you give any details? Thanks,
Bobby


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## VirginiaHuguenot (Apr 19, 2005)

Sure thing. Here is an account of the incident. 

It is also mentioned in the Maryland state song.


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## VirginiaHuguenot (Apr 17, 2006)

Patriot's Day is celebrated today (April 17) in Massachusetts. 

Monument to the Diet of Speyer (hand raised in _protest_):


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## WrittenFromUtopia (Apr 17, 2006)

April 19th marks my birth as well.


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## VirginiaHuguenot (Apr 17, 2006)

> _Originally posted by WrittenFromUtopia_
> April 19th marks my birth as well.



Happy Birthday, Gabe!


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## crhoades (Apr 17, 2006)

From George Grant's blog:
http://www.kingsmeadow.com/blogger.html


The Divine Source of Liberty 
Samuel Adams was one of the firebrands of the Revolution. The founder of the Committees of Correspondence and the Sons of Liberty, he challenged the authority of the English in violating the common law tradition in the colonies and eventually led the armed resistance to the King´s tyranny following the Boston Massacre. In this widely circulated verse, he detailed the standards for the American demand for freedom--a good reminder still, on this Patriots Day:

All temporal power is of God,
And the magistratal, His institution, laud,
To but advance creaturely happiness aubaud:
Let us then affirm the Source of Liberty.

Ever agreeable to the nature and will,
Of the Supreme and Guardian of all yet still
Employed for our rights and freedom's thrill:
Thus proves the only Source of Liberty.

Though our civil joy is surely expressed
Through hearth, and home, and church manifest,
Yet this too shall be a nation's true test:
To acknowledge the divine Source of Liberty.


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## VirginiaHuguenot (Apr 18, 2007)

Re: April 18, 1775 



Plimoth Thom said:


> "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
> ...


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## crhoades (Apr 18, 2007)

“Contemplate the mangled bodies of your countrymen, and then say, ‘What should be the reward of such sacrifices?’ Bid us and our posterity bow the knee, supplicate the friendship, and plough, and sow, and reap, to glut the avarice of the men who have let loose on us the dogs of war to riot in our blood and hunt us from the face of the earth? If ye love wealth better than liberty, the tranquility of servitude than the animating contest of freedom, go from us in peace. We ask not your counsels or arms. Crouch down and lick the hands which feed you. May your chains sit lightly upon you, and may posterity forget that ye were our countrymen!” —Samuel Adams


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