“Rev War Revelry” Bullet Strikes from the First Day of the American Revolution

Much has been written about the “shot heard around the world,” as the poet Ralph Waldo Emerson eloquently wrote in the 19th century. Yet, what about those actual shots? The musket balls fired on April 19, 1775? What was the damage, and how does this material culture history add to our overall understanding of the events that unfolded on that fateful day? Thanks to historian Joel Bohy, who is part of a duo of historians, along with Doug Scott, we now have insight into that answer.

Using forensic techniques, seemingly straight out of CSI, the authors have done painstaking research into the bullet holes and artifacts struck by bullets to shed even more light on the events that unfolded along Battle Road, Lexington, and Concord on the first day of the American Revolution.

Join Emerging Revolutionary War for this pre-recorded “Rev War Revelry” this Sunday evening at 7 p.m. EDT with author Joel Bohy as he explains the history and research behind this book. A much-needed addition to any Revolutionary War enthusiast’s bookshelf!

Major John Van Dyk and the Bones of Major John André. Part I

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes historian and educator Jeffrey Collin Wilford to the blog. A brief biog is at the bottom of this post. A list of sources will be at the bottom of the concluding Part III.

Major John André and John Van Dyk: Continental Artillery Soldier 

Much has been written about the betrayal of America by Benedict Arnold. However, one small but candidly morbid fact buried in the story has not. It relates to the disposition of British Major John André’s remains as they lay in a wooden ossuary on a British mail ship on the banks of the Hudson River while awaiting their return to England in 1821. The only recorded recollection of this event was in a letter written by a 67-year-old former Revolutionary War soldier and published in a Virginia newspaper in 1825. This man also happened to be one of the four officers who escorted André to the gallows in Tappan, New York, on October 2, 1780. 

John Van Dyk lived a storied life, serving America as a militiaman, Continental Artillery soldier, customs officer, New York City assessor, and assistant alderman. He came from an old Dutch family that had settled in the original New Amsterdam colony, which would eventually become Manhattan. There is ample evidence that, in 1775, he was actively involved in significant acts of disobedience against British rule with other “Liberty Boys,” as the New York Sons of Liberty preferred to call themselves. 

One of these acts was stealing muskets and cannons from the Royal Armory and Fort George.  Under the encouragement of Isaac Sears and Marinus Willett,  he was one of a crowd of colonists who broke into the Royal Arsenal at City Hall on April 23, 1775, stealing  550 muskets, bayonets, and related munitions. The angry mob had been spurred to act by the attacks on their fellow countrymen the week previous at Lexington and Concord in Massachusetts. Every person who took a musket was required to sign for it, signaling a promise to return it if it was needed to fight against British occupation. That call came on July 4, 1775, when the New York Provincial Congress ordered them recalled to outfit newly commissioned  Colonel Alexander McDougall’s 1st New York Regiment. It was relayed that anyone who refused would be deemed an enemy of the state. In all, 434 muskets were returned. 

Exactly four months later, Captain John Van Dyk was one of sixty or so men who, under Liberty Boys Colonel John Lasher and Colonel John Lamb, executed the orders of the New York Provincial Congress to remove the cannon from Fort George at the southern tip of Manhattan and drag them back to the area of City Hall. With tensions high in the city, the state leaders feared they would be turned against the colonists if they were left in the hands of the British. One of the militia members assisting in the removal effort was 19-year-old King’s College student Alexander Hamilton of the Hearts of Oak independent militia. By this time, civil unrest had relegated the British colonial government to operating from naval ships anchored in New York Harbor, which made keeping the cannon secure from a more agitated population nearly impossible. 

Just before midnight on August 23, 1775, a skirmish ensued between  Lasher and Lamb’s men removing the cannon, and a British barge near the shore. It had been sent to monitor the rebels’ activity by Captain George Vandeput from the HMS Asia, a 64-gun British warship anchored near shore. Musket shots rang out, presumably started by the British, which resulted in the killing of a King’s soldier on the barge. As a result, the Asia turned broadside and opened fire with their cannons in a barrage on the city that lasted for three hours. A city whose population had already been diminished by the fear of a coming conflict, shrunk even further due to the terror experienced that night.  

John Van Dyk spent most of the next eight years as an officer in General Henry Knox’s artillery while under the command of Colonel John Lamb.  During the war, he saw action at Brooklyn, Harlem Heights, White Plains, Trenton, Brandywine, Germantown, Crosswicks Creek, Monmouth, and Short Hills. He was also at both Morristown winter encampments and Valley Forge. In 1780 he was captured by the British off the coast of New Jersey and confined on the prison ship HMS Jersey in Brooklyn before being released that summer.  

Van Dyk had spent months out of commission in late 1779 and early 1780 with what, according to his symptoms, was probably malaria or yellow fever.  He petitioned General Knox, who, in turn, appealed to General Washington for leave to recuperate. Making his way to West Point to meet with General Washington he was instructed by the Commander-in-Chief’s aide-de-camp to be evaluated by Dr. John Cochran, physician and surgeon general of the army of the Middle Department. On Cochran’s recommendation, General Washington wrote to President Samuel Huntington asking that the Continental Congress grant Van Dyk’s petition for an 8-month Furlow to sea to convalesce, which was common at the time as it was believed the fresh sea air was helpful to healing. Approved, it would take six months before he boarded the brig General Reed with a crew of 120 and 16 guns, a privateer out of Philadelphia commanded by  Samuel Davidson. Once aboard ship he was temporarily made a Lieutenant of Marines. 

Only two days into the voyage, on April 21, 1780, things took an immediate turn for the worse when they were intercepted and captured by the 28-gun HMS Iris and the 16-gun sloop HMS Vulture. The Iris was the former American warship USS Hancock, captured in July of 1777 and renamed by the British. Van Dyk was brought to Brooklyn and placed on the prison ship Jersey in Wallabout Bay, one of the most notorious and deadly places for holding American prisoners of war. Conditions were so poor that, while approximately 6,800 American soldiers died in battle during the Revolution, over 11,000 prisoners died on the Jersey alone! Fortunately for John Van Dyk, American officers were often traded off the Jersey for British officers who were in the custody of American forces. Within two months he was released and traveled to his temporary home of Elizabethtown, New Jersey to finish recuperating before rejoining Lamb’s artillery in Tappan, New York. 

John Van Dyk had experienced many horrors of war in the years and months leading up to the morning of September 21, 1780, when British Major John André, an Adjutant General to British General Sir Henry Clinton, left New York City and sailed up the Hudson River. This pivotal incident would brand one of Washington’s closest generals a traitor and lead to the death of the esteemed and well-liked André. Ironically, Major André traveled on the very same sloop that had assisted in the capture of Captain Van Dyk just six months earlier. 

Bio:

Jeffrey Wilford has been an educator in Maine for over 30 years where he holds certifications in history and science. He received a bachelor’s degree in communications with an emphasis in journalism from California State University – Fullerton and a master’s degree in education, teaching and learning, from the University of Maine. In addition to his career teaching, he has worked as a general assignment newspaper reporter and an assistant to the press secretary of former Maine Governor and US Congressman Joseph Brennen. He lives in Maine with his wife Nicolette Rolde Wilford.

250 Years Ago Today? The Myth and Mystery of the Mecklenburg Declaration

In the early days of American independence, few tales are as intriguing—or as controversial—as the story of the Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence. Allegedly signed on May 20, 1775, over a year before the more famous Declaration in Philadelphia, this document claimed that citizens of Mecklenburg County, North Carolina, boldly severed ties with the British crown. It’s a story of early patriotism, defiance, and pride—but also one mired in historical uncertainty.

According to legend, upon hearing news of the battles at Lexington and Concord, local leaders in Mecklenburg County convened an emergency meeting and drafted a declaration proclaiming themselves “free and independent.” The idea that North Carolina may have led the way in declaring independence is a point of pride for many in the state. In fact, May 20, 1775, the supposed date of the declaration, is emblazoned on the North Carolina state flag and seal.

Yet for all its emotional and symbolic power, the Mecklenburg Declaration has a major problem: there’s no evidence it ever existed.

No original copy has survived. In fact, the first known reference to the document didn’t surface until 1819, more than 40 years after the supposed event. That version was reconstructed from memory by elderly men who claimed to have seen or signed it in their youth. These recollections were written down decades after the fact, raising serious doubts about their reliability.

Most historians today believe the Mecklenburg Declaration is a misremembered version of the “Mecklenburg Resolves,” a very real and much better-documented set of statements issued on May 31, 1775. These resolves denounced British authority and called for local governance, but they stopped short of declaring full independence.

Despite the lack of hard evidence, the legend of the Mecklenburg Declaration persisted, particularly in North Carolina. Even Thomas Jefferson, the principal author of the national Declaration of Independence, was drawn into the controversy when some accused him of borrowing from the Mecklenburg document—an accusation he vigorously denied.

Today, the Mecklenburg Declaration stands as a symbol, if not a historical document: a reminder of the spirit of independence, the complexities of memory, and the way legends can shape our understanding of the past. Whether or not it was truly the first declaration of independence, it remains a proud part of North Carolina’s revolutionary heritage.

Francis Channing Barlow: Chief Marshal of Concord’s Centennial

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Andrea Quinn.

In April 1875, Concord, Massachusetts, commemorated the centennial of the American Revolution’s beginning with a celebration that merged historical remembrance with contemporary national healing. At the heart of this tribute stood Major General Francis Channing Barlow, chosen as Chief Marshal for the event. His presence and leadership embodied the spirit of both Concord’s revolutionary origins and the sacrifices of the recent Civil War. Though his life included many achievements—from battlefield valor to public service—it was in this role as Chief Marshal that Barlow served as a living link between generations of American struggle and aspiration.

Photo Credit: Library of Congress 1864 Photo General Francis Channing Barlow

Barlow’s appointment was no mere formality. A Civil War general known for integrity, courage, and commitment to reform, Barlow had deep ties to Concord. As a youth, he was shaped by the town’s intellectual and moral environment, attending lectures by Ralph Waldo Emerson and immersing himself in the ideals of Transcendentalism. This upbringing instilled in him a strong sense of civic duty, justice, and personal responsibility—qualities that defined his wartime leadership and post-war public service.

The Concord Centennial was intended as more than a local remembrance—it was a national event. The town’s planning committee sought a figure who could represent both the revolutionary past and the post-Civil War Union. Barlow, whose own life had traced the arc of American idealism—from Brook Farm to the battlefields of Gettysburg and Spotsylvania—was their clear choice.

Continue reading “Francis Channing Barlow: Chief Marshal of Concord’s Centennial”

Visiting Parker’s Revenge

   During the recent ERW road trip to Massachusetts for the 250th events, I saw the newly marked Parker’s Revenge site at Minute Man National Historical Park. Some of our readers may know that recently the National Park Service conducted archaeology here and discovered the site of part of the April 19, 1775 battle. It was wonderful to see this site now marked and interpreted.

a historic marker
A marker now indicates the site of Parker’s Revenge. Author photo.

   Captain John Parker commanded the Lexington militia who confronted the British early that morning. Suffering eight killed and ten wounded, they fled in confusion from the Lexington green. Regrouping later that morning, they joined in the counterattack on the British column as it moved back towards Boston, the site being named Parker’s Revenge.

   Nathan Munroe, a veteran of the clash, remembered fifty years later, About the middle of the forenoon Captain Parker having collected part of his company, I being with them, determined to meet the regulars on their retreat from Concord. We met the regulars in the bounds of Lincoln. We fired on them and continued so to do until they met their reinforcement in Lexington.”

   While park staff had a general idea of where this occurred, recent archaeology confirmed the location. Not far from a section of the road, behind the Minute Man Visitor Center, there is a large rocky outcrop that for decades had been thought to be the site of this phase of the battle. Yet there was little evidence to support this theory.

a wooded battlefield
The site of the ambush. Author photo.

   A multi-year historical and archaeological investigation funded by the Friends of Minute Man National Park and the American Battlefield Trust, allowed archaeologists and volunteers to investigate the area. Finding musket balls and military artifacts, they could accurately determine troop positions.   

   The investigators searched the woods just north of the outcrop in the hopes of finding evidence of the British flankers, who moved ahead of and around the main body to protect it. Archaeologists found evidence of their position, as well as of the militia.   

A historic marker.
A second marker has an illustration of the fighting. Author photo.

   Today there is a maker identifying the site and discussing the recent archaeology. Another nearby provides an illustration to help envision the fighting here. These new markers are a good reminder that we are still learning and often do not have all the answers, even for a well preserved and well documented event like this.

250th Anniversary: Benedict Arnold’s War Begins, April 22, 1775

On Friday, April 21, 1775, word arrived in New Haven, Connecticut, regarding the fighting at Lexington and Concord. The Revolutionary War had begun, and thousands of militiamen from Massachusetts and the surrounding colonies in New England were converging around Boston to lay siege to the British army bottled up in the city. The next day, New Haven’s militia unit, the Governor’s Second Company of Guards, or Second Company, Governor’s Foot Guards, prepared to march to Cambridge.

Garbed in “A scarlet coat of common length, the lapels, cuffs and collars of buff and trimmed with plain silver wash buttons, white linen vest, breeches and stockings, black half leggins and small, fashionable and narrow ruffled shirt,” the Foot Guards made for quite the appearance. At the head of the 65-man-strong company was Captain Benedict Arnold, a leading member in revolutionary New Haven.

Arnold, 34-years-old at the outbreak of the war, had not stood pat during the decade leading up to April 1775. He was a member of the Sons of Liberty, and on multiple occasions, led mobs against the pro-monarchy members of the community. His leadership and zeal were recognized in March 1775 when he was elected captain of the militia. Like so many other patriots throughout the colonies, the shots fired at Lexington and Concord on April 19 would catapult Arnold onto a path to glory, and unfortunately for the country, later treason.

When the news arrived in town the evening of April 21, fifty-eight members of the Foot Guards voted to march to the assistance of their New England brethren. The next morning, Captain Arnold assembled the men on the New Haven Green, where the powder house was located. The doors were locked, and the keys to the stores in possession of New Haven’s Selectmen. Just off the green, at the intersection of College and Chapel Streets, stood Beers Tavern, where the Selectmen were gathered and discussing the town’s response to the recently received news.

The Foot Guards positioned themselves outside the building, while Arnold banged on the door demanding the keys to the powder house. The Selectmen refused to turn them over until official orders arrived. “None but the Almighty God shall prevent my marching,” Arnold passionately assured them. His forceful persuasion worked. The storehouse was opened, and the militia retrieved the necessary ammunition, flints, and powder. Once equipped, Arnold led his men out of New Haven and began a three-day march to Cambridge to join the fight.

Benedict Arnold Demands the Powder House Key by Mort Künstler

Idleness was not in Benedict Arnold’s nature, and upon arriving within the army’s camp, he approached the Massachusetts Committee of Safety with a proposal to lead an expedition against the British-held Ford Ticonderoga situated between Lake George and Lake Champlain in New York. The fort helped defend the crucial waterway system running north-south from Canada and housed cannon that could be vital to the patriot cause. The committee’s chairman, Dr. Joseph Warren, backed the plan and it was approved. On May 3, Arnold was promoted to colonel in the service of Massachusetts (not Connecticut) and was ordered to raise a force in western New England to accomplish the mission. The future hero of Saratoga and traitor to American liberty spurred his horse out of Cambridge and set his sights on taking “America’s Gibraltar.”

John Adams and the Rubicon of Lexington/Concord

“[T]he Battle of Lexington on the 19th of April, changed the Instruments of Warfare from the Penn to the Sword,” John Adams wrote years after the event. He was well acquainted with the pen as an instrument of warfare. By the spring of 1775, he was twelve letters into a thirteen-letter volley that would become known as the “Novanglus letters”—a series that appeared in the Boston Gazette starting January 23.[1]

The final of those letters appeared, by happenstance, on April 19—the same day as the battles of Lexington and Concord. The thirteenth letter of the series never appeared because of the suspension of printing in Massachusetts following the battle.[2]

Adams was, at the time of the battle, preparing to return to Philadelphia for the next session of the Continental Congress. Before his departure, however, he resolved to ride out to the battlefield so he could see with his own eyes the results of the bloodshed that had occurred. He felt it would make him a more reliable witness when he reported on the event to Congress.

On April 22, Adams rode by horseback from his home in Quincy to Cambridge, where the local militia had concentrated. There, Adams met with military leaders, generals Artemis Ward, William Heath, and Joseph Warren. He also informally inspected the troops, “the New England Army,” as he characterized them.[3]

“There was great Confusion and much distress,” Adams recounted: “Artillery, Arms, Cloathing were wanting and a sufficient Supply of Provisions not easily obtained. Neither the officers nor Men however wanted Spirits or Resolution.”

But how long would such spirit and resolve last, Adams wondered? This questions would inform his strategy when he eventually arrived in Philadelphia.

From Cambridge, Adams rode west toward “Lexington and along the Scene of Action for many miles. . . .” Rubble from the battle still laid strewn along the road from Concord to Lexington and from Lexington back into Boston—a route Adams traced in reverse. He did not write down details of what he saw, but they made a deep impression, as would soon become evident in his attitudes about independence.

To help make sense of what he saw, he “enquired of the Inhabitants” about “the Circumstances” of the battle. “These were not calculated to diminish my Ardour in the Cause,” he admitted. “They on the Contrary convinced me that the Die was cast, the Rubicon passed, and as Lord Mansfield expressed it in Parliament, if We did not defend ourselves they would kill Us.”

Just after his visit to the battlefield, illness debilitated Adams, which delayed his departure for Congress. He did manage to catch up to his fellow delegates en route. Along the way, they saw first-hand how the events at Lexingon and Concord had galvanized public opinion, although it would yet be some months before Congress itself followed public opinion.

But for Adams, events had indeed crossed the Rubicon. He began his unceasing, inexorable push toward independence.

Yet it was a two-pronged approach for Adams, who not only operated on that larger existential level but also on a more immediate, pragmatic one. After all, the sword, not the pen, was now the main weapon. He began advocating for measures that would transform “the New England Army” into a Continental one. His nomination of George Washington to lead the fledgling force, for example, was a masterful stroke to diversify the army and, thus, ensure more colonies had skin in the game.

Congress’s slow pace toward independence would frustrate Adams almost to no end over the fifteen months that would follow. However, the bloodshed of Lexington and Concord made an impression on Adams that would drive him onward, inexorably, toward July 1776 and beyond.


[1] For more on the exchange between Adams and Daniel “Massachusettensis” Leonoard, see https://www.masshist.org/publications/adams-papers/view?&id=PJA02dg5.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Quote from Adams come from John Adams autobiography, part 1, “John Adams,” through 1776, sheet 18 of 53 [electronic edition]. Adams Family Papers: An Electronic Archive. Massachusetts Historical Society. http://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/

Rev War Revelry: Dunmore and the Virginia Gunpowder Incident

Powder Magazine, Colonial Williamsburg, VA in 2025

Today marks the 250th anniversary of the Virginia Powder Alarm in Williamsburg, VA. To commemorate the anniversary, join us this Sunday, April 27th at 7pm on our Facebook page as we welcome ERW historians Rob Orrison, Mark Maloy with Maureen Wiese and J. Michael Moore to discuss the events leading up to the April 21, 1775 Powder Incident in Williamsburg, VA. A few days after Lexington and Concord (unknown to the Virginians at the time), Governor Lord Dunmore removed powder from the magazine in Williamsburg. This event led Patrick Henry to lead militia towards Williamsburg and possible standoff with the Governor. As news arrived on April 28 of the bloodshed outside of Boston, tensions rose even higher.

Join us as we discuss another 250th anniversary event that led to the beginning of the American Revolution. This podcast will be recorded and posted on our Facebook page on April 27th at 7pm. Then it will be posted to your You Tube and Spotify pages.

To learn more about the Virginia Powder Alarm and the events to commemorate the Alarm at Colonial Williamsburg, visit: https://www.colonialwilliamsburg.org/discover/historic-area/historic-places/magazine/the-gunpowder-incident/

The Patriot Martyrs of April 19, 1775

Yesterday marked the 250th anniversary of the first battles of the American Revolution.  The Battles of Lexington and Concord were brutal and vicious.  More than 40 American colonists were killed in the fighting.  These were the first martyrs in the cause for American liberty.  Here are the stories of some of those men who shed their blood on that fateful day for our freedom.

Jonathan Harrington was one of the few dozen men in the Lexington militia who stood on the Lexington Green when the first British troops arrived at sunrise on April 19, 1775.  He lived with his wife and child in a home that was located on the Green.  After a shot was fired, the British soldiers opened fire on the American militiamen.  As they were dispersing, Harrington was shot through the chest.  He crawled towards his house and died within sight of his home.  Local legend says he crawled to his own doorstep and died at the feet of his wife and child.

Sign on the Harrington house which still stands in Lexington, MA today.

Isaac Davis was the captain of the Acton minutemen. The Acton minutemen marched more than 5 miles to Concord in the early morning hours of April 19.  After seeing smoke from the town, the minutemen marched down towards the North Bridge and the British soldiers guarding the opposite side fired a volley at the minutemen.  This volley was high and may have been a warning shot.  The next volley was fired into the minutemen.  Private Abner Hosmer was shot through the head and killed.  Davis was shot through the chest, his blood splattering the men around him.  Seconds later the American colonists were given the command to fire on British soldiers for the very first time.

The Acton Monument stands over the graves of Isaac Davis, Abner Hosmer, and James Hayward.

James Hayward was part of the Acton company that joined in the running battle back towards Boston.  During the battle soldiers from both sides stopped to get water at local wells.  At one point a British soldier went to the well by the Fiske house to get a drink of water.  At the same time, Hayward was heading there too.  The two saw each other and raised their muskets.  The British soldier said, “You are a dead man!” Hayward replied, “So are you.” They both fired at the same time. The British soldier was killed instantly.  Hayward was hit, with splinters of his powder horn going into his side.  He died not long after.

The site of the Fiske well, where James Hayward and a British soldier died.

Jason Russell was a 58-year-old man living in the village of Metonomy (present day Arlington, Massachusetts) and was preparing to defend his home on the road back to Boston. People were telling him to leave the area, but Russell refused and exclaimed “An Englishman’s home is his castle!” As the British column came down the road, Russell and a dozen militiamen began to fire into redcoats.  Unfortunately for Russell and the other militiamen, the British had deployed flankers to clear out many of the houses along the road.  The colonists were taken by surprise and retreated into the house.  Russell was unable to run and was bayonetted to death by the British troops on his front doorstep.  The British entered the house and hand to hand fighting occurred inside the house.  Two British soldiers and eleven militiamen were killed.

A painting depicting the death of Jason Russell at the Jason Russell House (Arlington Historical Society)

Jason Winship and Jabez Wyman decided to sit in the Cooper Tavern and have a drink.  The fighting in Metonomy became extremely brutal.  Even unarmed civilians got caught up in the carnage.  As British arrived at the Cooper Tavern, the tavern owners fled into a cellar.  Winship and Wyman did not stand a chance. The owners noted that: “the King’s regular troops under the command of General Gage, upon their return from blood and slaughter, which they had made at Lexington and Concord, fired more than one hundred bullets into the house where we dwell, through doors, and windows,…The two aged gentlemen [Winship and Wyman] were immediately most barbarously and inhumanly murdered by them, being stabbed through in many places, their heads mangled, skulls broke, and their brains out on the floor and walls of the house.”

Samuel Whittemore was a 78-year-old man who lived in Menotomy.  He prepared to fight the British troops marching along the road.  He carried a musket, two pistols and a sword.  As some British soldiers moved to get Whittemore, he shot one with his musket, then killed two with his pistols and then drew his sword to fight them.  The British soldiers shot off part of his face off, clubbed him and bayoneted him fourteen times, leaving him for dead. Amazingly, he survived and live for another eighteen years, dying at the ripe age of 96.

A monument for Smauel Whittemore in Arlington, MA.

One of the last people to die that day was 65-year-old militiaman James Miller.  As the British were making it back to Charlestown, James Miller and some men fired into the retreating soldiers.  British soldiers ran towards the militia.  Miller’s compatriots fled and entreated him to do the same.  Miller replied, “I am too old to run.”  The British opened fire and killed Miller.

These stories are only a few of the dozens who died that day.  You can find these and many other stories (and where they happened!) in “A Single Blow” by Robert Orrison and Phill Greenwalt, one of seven books that are part of the Emerging Revolutionary War book series published by Savas Beatie.

Today the remains of the men who were killed on Lexington Green now lie there under a monument that was erected in 1799, not long after the successful conclusion of the Revolutionary War.  The epitaph on that monument still speaks to the heroism and valor of these first Americans to fall in the Revolutionary War:

“The Blood of these Martyrs,
In the cause of God & their Country,
Was the Cement of the Union of these States, then
Colonies; & gave the spring to the spirit. Firmness
And resolution of their Fellow Citizens.
They rose as one man to revenge their brethren’s
Blood and at the point of the sword to assert &
Defend their native Rights.
They nobly dar’d to be free!!”