Little time could be given them for rest.  The woods swarmed with militiamen, who scarcely could be kept back by the hollow square and planted cannon of Lord Percy’s troops.  In a short time the march was resumed.  The troops had burned several houses at Lexington, a vandalism which added to the fury of the provincials.  As they proceeded, the infuriated soldiers committed other acts of atrocity, particularly in West Cambridge, where houses were plundered and several unoffending persons murdered.

But for all this they paid dearly.  The militia pursued them almost to the very streets of Boston, pouring in a hot fire at every available point.  On nearing Charlestown the situation of the British troops became critical, for their ammunition was nearly exhausted, and a strong force was marching upon them from several points.  Fortunately for them, they succeeded in reaching Charlestown before they could be cut off, and here the pursuit ended as no longer available.  The British loss in killed, wounded, and missing in that dreadful march had been nearly three hundred; that of the Americans was about one hundred in all.

It was a day mighty in history, the birthday of the American Revolution; the opening event in the history of the United States of America, which has since grown to so enormous stature, and is perhaps destined to become the greatest nation upon the face of the earth.  That midnight ride of Paul Revere was one of the turning-points in the history of mankind.

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS.

Down from the green hills of Vermont came in all haste a company of hardy mountaineers, at their head a large-framed, strong-limbed, keen-eyed frontiersman, all dressed in the homespun of their native hills, but all with rifles in their hands, a weapon which none in the land knew better how to use.  The tidings of stirring events at Boston, spreading rapidly through New England, had reached their ears.  The people of America had been attacked by English troops, blood had been shed at Lexington and Concord, war was begun, a struggle for independence was at hand.  Everywhere the colonists, fiery with indignation, were seizing their arms and preparing to fight for their rights.  The tocsin had rung.  It was time for all patriots to be up and alert.

On the divide between Lakes George and Champlain stood a famous fort, time-honored old Ticonderoga, which had played so prominent a part in the French and Indian War.  It was feebly garrisoned by English troops, and was well supplied with munitions of war.  These munitions were, just then, of more importance than men to the patriot cause.  The instant the news of Lexington reached the ears of the mountaineers of Vermont, axes were dropped, ploughs abandoned, rifles seized, and “Ticonderoga” was the cry.  Ethan Allen, a leader in the struggle which had for several years been maintained between the settlers of that region and the colony of New York, and a man of vigor and decision, lost no time in calling his neighbors to arms, and the Green Mountain boys were quickly in the field.