Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 30.

Scene, Medford square, before Royal Oak Tavern. afternoon, April 19, 1775.

Characters in order of entrance.

Abigail. Thirteen-year-old daughter of Capt. Isaac Hall.

Harry Bond. Blacksmith from Mystic Avenue. Scotch-Irish; killed at Bunker Hill; patriots met and discussed at his home.

Jonathan Porter, proprietor of Royal Oak Tavern. Twenty-seven years old; came to Medford from Malden, 1773; commissioned second lieutenant, 1776.

Stephen Hall. Seventy-one years old; called Honorable and Gentleman; served in legislature and on committee of advice.

Sarah Bradlee Fulton. Aged twenty-three; energetic, patriotic woman; carried despatches to Boston by order of Washington; assisted in disguising husband and brothers for Boston Tea Party.

Dr. Simon Tufts. Forty-eight years old; representative to General Court, 1772-1775; trusted friend and trustee of Isaac Royall; attended wounded soldiers after Bunker Hill.

Minuteman.

Enter Belinda carrying basket. Spies about her. Enter Abigail Hall, following her curiously about.

Abigail. What are you looking for, Belinda?

Belinda. Sh, sh, sh!

Abigail. What are you looking for?

Belinda (coming close to her). De Ebil One.

Abigail. The Ebil One?

Belinda. Didn't you hear him aridina by de house de odder night? I done wake up in de night and de moon was shinina all along de road, and bimeby I heer a thumpety thump, thumpety thump, and a horse's hoofs cam thuddina up de street from Boston town. Thumpety thump he come up ober de hill, and I dassent look out for fear of de Ebil One callina me and all de wicked ones out. But thumpety thump he done gallop by ole massi's house like all de fiends was aridina wid him,—and go away in de dark.

Abigail. Why, Belinda, 'twas no Evil One! 'Twas the express riding to warn the minutemen. The king's troops are after our powder up at Concord.

Belinda. You be only a lil gal. I know. I know. Ole Belinda know when de Ebil One ride by.

Abigail. But, Belinda, he stopped at my father's house and rapped at the door and father ran to the window, and I ran to mine, for my window is under the eaves right over the street, and what do you suppose he said?

Belinda. De day ob doom, ye wicked rebels!

Abigail (drawing back). He said ‘There'll be noise enough soon. The regulars are out.’ And father dressed and sent me flying to cousin Timothy and cousin Moses and cousin Stephen, and he sent another express to Malden and—

Belinda. Astirrina up trouble, trouble, trouble. 'Twas de Ebil One. [p. 36]

Abigail. I reckon he was stirring up trouble for your master, Colonel Royall, old Belinda. You'd have thought so if you'd seen all the windows with candles in them in the middle of the night, and mother melting bullets and the men come running in, their flintlocks in their hands. And then in the early dawn my brave father marching away at the head of our minutemen. (Distant crack of gun or cannon.)

Belinda (starting). Guns, guns acrackina! War, war, dona you hear de war beginnina?

Abigail. Surely they must defend themselves, but I heard father say ‘Don't fire unless you are fired upon. We mustn't be first.’

Belinda. More guns. I tell you, chile, I do know this. Dat gallopina horseman, ef he be a man or de Debil, he bring trouble to ole massa. Massa gone away, ride away in his coach and neber come back, neber come back.

Abigail. He'll come home when the fighting's over.

Belinda. Go way cross de sea and neber come back. Trouble, trouble.

Abigail. Here comes the blacksmith that lives by the Royall House, Master Bond. You'd best get him to give you a horseshoe to keep away the Evil One.

Bond (musket in one hand, hammer in the other, looking after Belinda as she exits). If 'twas the old days I believe they'd hang her for a witch, the old Tory. (Sound of distant guns.)

Abigail. Oh! Master Bond, which way be you going, to shoe horses or to fight?

Bond (ignoring her). Either I be deaf with the clanging of my own forge or there be guns up the road. Ia faith, girl, I know not which to do. I'm bound I'll serve the cause.

Abigail. I do believe all the men of the countryside save ye, Master Bond, have gone by our house this morning, hot foot to Lexington, and if I ran out to them they walked by me, as if 1 were a tree. Why don't you go to the fight, Master Bond?

Bond. Why don't I? You'd best run home and read your Mother Goose instead of hanging around the square and talking to your elders. Open it, too, let me tell you, to the page where it says, ‘For want of a nail the shoe was lost, for want of a shoe the horse was lost, for want of a horse the rider was lost, for want of a rider the battle—’ (Exit Abigail, shamefacedly.)

Bond (weighing gun and hammer). I'd rather use my gun, and sure 'tis hard for a strong man to see other men all marching off to fight and to stay like a woman at home, going clang, clang on my anvil. (Enter Porter.) Master Porter, what news, I pray you?

Porter. News aplenty. The town is full of news, but how much we may believe that is the trouble. Most certain 'tis there has been fighting, and they say much blood is shed.

Bond. Blood! That will be a red flag to our boys. How many have passed by your tavern today?

Porter. Company after company from the north, and men and boys trailing after them, and farmers on horseback to get in a shot or two, all in a most prodigious hurry.

Bond. And in too great a hurry to stop at the Royal Oak and exchange news.

Porter. I never saw men so hot upon their way, as if every minute counted. [p. 37]

Bond. Minutemen of course, and ready in a minute, too, weren't they? Last August you mind how Gage sent the redcoats up to the powder house to take our powder?

Porter. I mind it well, and we men stood yonder, our hands on our hips, and watched them, perforce, while they took it away under our noses.

Bond. Took it away right out of Medford, didn't they, to Castle William—all they found there, anyhow?

Porter. And what they didn't find had taken wings, hadn't it?

Bond. Well, it flew away somewhere, but I guess it will fly home again today. And the redcoats will get it today—but in the powder-pans of our flintlocks with leaden bullets behind it. (Still distant sound of guns.) Hist, was that firing?

Porter. Some of our Medford powder, perchance. I wonder if our boys did fight!

Bond. Fight? I only wish I were as certain of the locks I've put on guns this morning. Know you (nudging him) where most of the locks came from?

Porter. I know where the gun-stocks came from—our wood-lots furnish them forth with a little labor, but where did all these volunteers get their locks?

Bond. From his gracious majesty, King George. Porter. How mean you?

Bond. Well, King George is none too generous to his redcoats. They are glad to get odd jobs about town to fill their pockets, and so when our lads slip up to the barracks with a bottle of good old Medford smuggled under the tails of their coats, there be many a lobster who has been willing to do trade for it with the lock of a gun.

Porter. A poor trade they'll find that today. I reckon many a poor lad will rue his bargain. (Fife and drum drawing nearer.)

Bond. Another sound of fife and drum. Yes, more minutemen down the Salem road.

Porter. 'Tis the boys from Malden. I know every man of them. I'll to them. (Enter Stephen Hall, limping, with cane.)

Bond. Ah, Master Hall, a word with you! Hall. What men are those?

Bond. Maiden men. They seem to hesitate, loathe to lose a chance to fight. If they go to Menotomy the king's troops may be already on the Charlestown highway or perhaps to Cambridge. (Sound of distant cannon.)

Hall. Whichever way they march back to the shelter of their boats, 'tis evident they are testing the mettle of our men with their cannon.

Bond. Ay, cannon, Master Hall. 'Tis that was troubling me, so that I left my work and came here. Where are our Medford guns, the seven cannon we brought out here in November hid in loads of hay and wood? Are they safe, or are these troops on their way to take them also?

Hall. They are safe, nor do I think that General Gage knows aught of them.

Bond. But suppose the British should send some men-of-war up the Mystic to Cradock bridge to help their soldiers in their retreat?

Hall. Know you, good smith, what Medford should have? Fireboats,¹ [p. 38] man, by the corner of the bridge, ready to set on fire and turn upon any hostile boat that comes nosing up our stream.

Bond (rubbing his hands). Fireboats! A mighty thought! I would that the British men-of-war would come up the river. Then we'd look up the stream and we'd see those Tory boats come sailing on, all unknowing, and suddenly our fireboats would go flaming down upon them, flaring like my forge, and the British sailors would bend to their oars and go flying down stream, past Labor-in-vain and out to the harbor. Heaven help the troops coming back this way and hoping to reach their boats, and Labor-in-vain for that too. They'll have hot fighting enough.

Hall. Nay, nay, Bond, if the fighting gets too hot for them up there, as from the number of men who have passed us I think perhaps it may, they'll never take this long road through Medford to Boston, but strike straight for Charlestown and the shelter of their ships.

Bond. And shelter they'll need if I am any judge of the minutemen of Medford. And look you here, Master Hall, there are more men at home today who could not be in the firing line who would welcome a chance to do battle with them here.

Hall. Yes, Bond, you would fight, I know, as bravely as you speak, but today there are men enough upon the road. The country-side has rung to alarm bells all the last twelve hours. (Sound of fife and drum.)

Bond. There go the Malden men. They have determined on Menotomy. Huzzay, boys, on with you! The rascals came here and stole our powder! Don't let them steal any more! Fight 'em, boys, fight'em! Don't let a a man forget what we owe 'em! Give 'em back their powder! (Exit shouting.)

Hall. Would I too were young, but I can serve on the Committee of Supplies and watch the river and the square. They also serve who only stand and wait. (Sits down at back of scene.)

Porter (returning visibly stirred). My friends of Malden whom I knew before I settled here two years ago. Brave boys. I gave them a glass around to wet their whistles. (Enter Sarah Bradlee Fulton and Abigail.)

Mrs. Fulton. A glass around is well enough, Master Porter, but think you, what else will they need when they return?

Porter. Mistress Fulton, they are welcome again at my expense.

Mrs. Fulton. Nay, it was not of food nor drink that I thought, but of those who may have been wounded.

Porter. The wounded. You are right. Would we could settle our rights without bloodshed. The king's officers who stop so often at my Royal Oak—gentlemen! courteous! and free with their money, too. They've made me join them in many a glass of flip. It would go hard to raise a flintlock in their smiling faces.

Mrs. Fulton. They will not be smiling today, Master Porter. But 'tis pity that these soldiers should be the tools of their masters.

Porter. Of course we have done our best to conciliate their masters, but they would not listen. 1 cannot help but sorrow for the luckless soldiers.

Mrs. Fulton. Who is not with us is against us, Master Porter. There was Isaac Royall, now. The town of Medford did love him well, but he fled. Even the gifts he gave to Medford will hardly make the people forgive him, especially if they lose sons at Lexington.

Porter. True, true, but Colonel Royall wished to fight for the colony. You know well that last Sunday he did but ride into town to chapel, and General Howe let no people out again, so that he could not return home. [p. 39]

Mrs. Fulton. It may be that he could not return, but methinks 'tis more likely that his daughters held him than General Howe. The ladies are no patriots, you know. (Drum and fife.)

Porter. Would they had taken pattern by Madam Fulton.

Mrs. Fulton. Another company of minutemen eating up the road before them. They pause.

voice of Minuteman running in. Which way to the fighting?

Porter. The high street to Menotomy. Whence come you?

Minuteman. Danvers. Forward!

Mrs. Fulton. Not a second's pause (clasps hands)! Saw ye ever eyes like theirs? Boys, most of them, just boys! A cold thrill runs through me even in this summerlike heat. Enough of this. We women must do our part. And here comes the man who will direct us. (Enter Dr. Tufts.)

Tufts. Truly the whole countryside is up. Danvers men already. I trow that never men came thence at such a pace before. Minutemen. Minutemen.

Porter. Have you more news, good doctor?

Tufts. I met a man but now who said that reinforcements for the British troops had marched toward Lexington, and that the first force was marching from Concord and the farmers were fighting all along the road.

Porter. Gage doubtless sent reinforcements as the rumor ran. Think you our men can face the cannon and musketry of the king's trained troops?

Mrs. Fulton. Were I a man I'd fight.

Abigail. And I.

Tufts. They can and will. And you know, good sir, they need not stand before the cannon's mouth. New England soldiers have learned much of old from the Indians.

Porter. What would poor Colonel Royall think of this?

Tufts. Would he were here. His heart has been ever with us, and he could not but take fire had he seen the faces of those men of Danvers. Heat, exhaustion, hunger, thirst—forgotten in that determination to stand for their liberty.

Abigail. You should have seen father and our minutemen as they started forth in the morning, with old Master Putnam and William Polly, who's hardly older than I am, following right along with the best of them.

Mrs. Fulton. Old and young, we are all on fire with zeal, doctor. Tell us what we must do now if these game men of ours or Danvers come wounded back.

Tufts. Gather the women and scrape lint for wounds, and have collected any good clean cloth for bandages.

Mrs. Fulton. I'll do so now at my home beyond the bridge. Abigail, go you and tell your mother and collect the women. (Exit Mrs. Fulton and Abigail.)

（A pause. Old Hall puffs nervously on his pipe. Porter gets a gun and begins to clean it. Distant sounds of guns and of fife and drum drawing nearer.)

Hall. The moments drag in our suspense.

Porter. We count them with the sound of guns.

（Enter Abigail, running, and out of breath. Characters gather about her.) [p. 40]

Abigail. O Great-uncle Stephen, a man just stopped at our house! He came from—Concord—on horseback. He'd ridden—all along tile way— and his powder and bullets were all gone—so he came home—and

Hall. Take breath, lass, yet quickly as thou canst.

Abigail. And he says that houses are burning in Menotomy — the British soldiers fired them-and the king's troops are on the run—their tongues just hanging out of their mouths like dogs. (Sounds of fife and drum.)

Porter. More minutemen. (Enter two or three minutemen, running.)

Minuteman. Which way to the fighting?

Porter. They are fighting even now in Menotomy. You had best take the main road to Charlestown. You'll catch them at Winter hill assuredly. Whence come ye?

Minuteman. Salem.

Tufts. Danvers and Lynn have passed already. Ye are late.

Minuteman. All has gone wrong with us. Mistake upon mistake. I fear we'll be too late for any fight at all.

Tufts. If ye go to Winter hill I think you'll cut them off there. I'll march alongside. (Exeunt all but Porter.) (Fife and drum.)

Porter (to his sign). Royal Oak. Royal Oak no more. No Colonel-Royall, no King Royal. Fare ye well, Royal Oak. I'll paint ye over to morrow and call ye—shall it be the Minuteman's Tavern or Liberty Oak? No, it shall be just Porter's Tavern. I can stand it no longer. Look out for yourself, Royal Oak. Farewell. (Exits with musket.)