Listen my children...

...with ears open'd wide
and you shall hear
of Sarah Palin's bus ride...

(Apologies to Longfellow.)

Pursuit of Paul Revere, the Scout

"...it was in Massachusetts that the chief danger lay, and it was there that the Government determined to strike their hardest blow. On the 15th of April, instructions were sent out to Gage.. to seize and secure all military stores collected by the rebels, to arrest and imprison such as should be thought to have committed treason..."

(From Cassell's History of the United States, vol 2)

Perhaps that's a book the former Governor of Alaska has been reading. Here's her version of the story, as told in Boston this week:

He warned the British that they weren't gonna be taking away our arms, by ringing those bells and by making sure that as he's riding his horse through town to send those warning shots and bells that we were gonna be secure and we were gonna be free... and we were gonna be armed.

Here's a video version from CNN, as hosted by New York magazine (in their "Daily Intel" section). Their transcript includes the "uhs" and "ums" that most people not reading from a teleprompter include in any conversation, and leaves off all the g's on the end of words whether Palin (like most Americans) did or not. The better to sneer at us, I suppose.

But, not surprisingly, Über-patriot Sarah Palin knows more than the average American. In fact, she may have more expertise on the subject than anybody else. For example, yesterday she revealed some heretofore unknown facts about Paul Revere's midnight ride...

Which, to the chagrin of the sneering set, actually turned out to be heretofore little-known facts, discoverable via spending a few minutes on an internet search. (You can actually learn a lot on teh internets - after you get past the first few pages of search results from the Huffington Post and Daily Kos et al.)

As others have pointed out (see three links embedded in the poem above), it's unfortunate that those who fancy themselves the gatekeepers of American news - on TeeVee and elsewhere - aren't familiar with the content of Paul Revere's writing. I wasn't myself before this very morning, but now that I am I wonder what our nation's various professional teleprompter readers would make of his grammar and style:

We sett of together for Concord, and were overtaken by a Young Gentleman named Prescot who belonged to Concord, and was going home when we got about half way from Lexington to Concord, the Other two Stopped at a House to awake the Man. I kept along, when I had got about 200 Yards a head of them, I saw two officers under a Tree as before. I imeaditly called to my company to come up, saying here was two of them, (for I had told them, what Mr. Devens told me and of my being Stopped) in an Instant I saw four of them officers who rode up to me with their Pistols in their hands & said God damn you Stop if you go an Inch farther you are a dead man, imeaditly Mr. Prescot came up, he turned the butt end of his whipp. We attempted to git thro' them but they kept before us & swore if we did not turn in to that pasture, they would Blow our brains out...

That's from the rough draft of his 1775 account, the finished version is here.

...in an instant I saw four of them, who rode up to me, with thier pistols in their hands, said G-d d-n you stop. If you go an Inch further, you are a dead Man, immeaditly Mr. Prescot came up we attempted to git thro them, but they kept before us, and swore if we did not turn in to that pasture, they would blow our brains out...

I told him I knew better, I knew what they were after; that I had alarmed the country all the way up, that their Boats, were catch'd a ground, and I should have 500 men their soon; one of them said they had 1500 coming; he seemed supprised and rode off, into the road, and informed them who took me, they came down immeaditly on a full gallop, one of them (whom I since learned was Major Mitchel of the 5th Regiment Clap'd his Pistol to my head, and said he was going to ask me some questions, if I did not tell the truth, he would blow my brains out. I told him I esteemed my self a Man of truth, that he had stopped me on the high way, & made me a prisoner, I knew not by what right; I would tell him the truth; I was not afraid...

There's also a later first-hand account of the night's events - Letter from Paul Revere to Jeremy Belknap, circa 1798 - available at the same site.

David Hackett Fischer's book is from 1996, and draws on multiple sources to provide us a clear picture of the man: "If we can see him in Copley's painting, we can also hear him speak in the eccentric way he spelled his words..."

His spelling tells us that Paul Revere talked with a harsh, nasal New Englad twang. His strong Yankee accent derived from a family of East Anglian dialects that came to Boston in the 17th century and can still be faintly heard today.

Such common Bostonians "favored biblical cadences" and "homely expressions," he writes. "But in another way, the provincial ring of Paul Revere's Yankee speech could mislead us. Just as in the surface and subtle depths of Copley's painting, there was more to this man than met the ear."

Perhaps the British officers who'd captured him that night - sent in advance of the main body of "Regulars" in order to close the roads to men like Revere and thus maintain a much-needed element of surprise for the mission (to capture or destroy stores of rebel weapons, powder, and foodstuff) found his low Bostonian nasal twang annoying, too. Whether that grated on their ears or not, they certainly didn't appreciate his telling them that they'd already failed.

More from Fischer:

Then Major Mitchell himself came up to Paul Revere in a high temper. "He clapped [a] pistol to my head," Revere remembered, "and said he was agoing to ask me some questions, and if I did not tell the truth, he would blow my brains out."

Paul revere was angered by those words, and told the major that "he did not need a threat to make him speak the truth." He added contemptuously, "I call myself a man of truth, and you have stopped me on the highway, and made me a prisoner I knew not by what right. I will tell the truth, for I am not afraid."

That is precisely what Paul Revere proceeded to do. He told the truth without hesitation, while surrounded by armed and hostile horsemen in that dark pasture on the Concord road. He spoke with a serene self-confidence, even to these armed and angry men who pointed their pistols at him, and were not happy to hear what he had to say.

"He warned the British officers that if they remained in the vicinity of Lexington Green, they also would be in extreme danger," Fischer concludes, "and he hinted that the expedition coming after them could start a war unless it was warned of the trouble that awaited them at Lexington center."

Neither the British soldiers nor Paul Revere were on a mission to start the American Revolution that moonlit night. But Revere's mission to warn was already a success, and his captor's a failure. He lost nothing in telling them so - in warning them not to press on. The Sons of Liberty had no "sneak attack" planned, the Minutemen were assembled and waiting in the open on the Green. And here we approach the moment described at the outset of this post, as Jonathan Loring, another captured rebel who'd been sent from Lexington (following Revere's warning) to keep tabs on the British soldiers took a que from Revere as the party approached his town.

At last the officers began to feel the full import of what Paul Revere had been telling them. His words of warning took on stronger meaning when punctuated by gunfire. The sound of a single shot had suggested to them that surprise was lost. The crash of a volley appeared evidence that the country was rising against them. As they came closer to the Common they began to hear Lexington's town bell clanging rapidly. The captive Loring, picking up Revere's spirit, turned to the officers and said, "The bell's a'ringing! The town's alarmed, and you're all dead men!"

The British troops stole Revere's horse and chased off the others', then set their captives free on foot while they rode off, presumably to rejoin their main body still approaching Lexington.

Not far away:

I, Sylvanus Wood, of Woburn, in the county of Middlesex, and commonwealth of Massachusetts, aged seventy-four years, do testify and say, that on the morning of the 19th of April, 1775, I was an inhabitant of Woburn, living with Deacon Obadiah Kendall; that about an hour before the break of day on said morning, I heard the Lexington bell ring, and fearing there was difficulty there, I immediately arose, took my gun, and, with Robert Douglass, went in haste to Lexington, which was about three miles distant. When I arrived there, I inquired of Captain Parker, the commander of the Lexington company, what was the news. Parker told me he did not know what to believe, for a man had come up about half an hour before, and informed him that the British troops were not on the road. But while we were talking, a messenger came up and told the captain that the British troops were within half a mile...

The rest, as they say, is history. Ours, whether you're familiar with it or not.

So thank you Sarah Palin! - and in a roundabout way, all you folks who hate her so much, too. (I was happily ignoring her bus tour, but without you overly obsessed morons I never would have learned any of this.) I'm not sure who I'll vote for in the 2012 elections, but I've certainly found something worth reading for this July Fourth.