"The Misplaced Bones of William Dawes": With Apologies to Longfellow

Listen my children and let us pause
by the resting place of William Dawes,
Who was laid in earth, in Ninety-nine;
Those who would follow the Freedom Trail's Line
To this patriot's tomb must hear of its flaws.

He said to his friend, one Paul Revere,
When they met on the road that fateful night,
"Two may succeed where one may fail
To alert the militia before day-light,--
I went by land, and you came by sea;
And in Lexington by dawn we'll be."
Together they rode and spread the word,
And when a British patrol was heard,
Revere was caught, but Dawes had spurred.

When the cause was won, with an honored name,
Eclipsed though it was by a silversmith's fame,
His mortal remains were to dust returned,
But precisely where was soon unlearned;
In the family tomb, by King's Chapel side
The SAR long claimed, with pride,
Resides the Dawes who made the ride
Yet things are not what they appear
Despite what those on Duck Tours hear.

A document has come to light,
That proves this tale is far from right,
The Central-Burying-Ground, not King's,
Received his bones when his soul took wings,
And this makes sense, for when he died,
The bone-yard was full by the Chapel side,
And yet this was not his final ride;
In Forest Hills, in Jamaica Plain,
His bones were laid in earth again.

As to why his remains were thus exhumed,
Brought to Forest Hills, then re-entombed,
The Sexton's log no mention makes
(Assuming these records are real, not fakes)--
Still the pages state the year and day;
In 1882 he lay
In the plot of his first wife, Mehitable May,
Thus Liberty loses, then finds a Son,
Who rode with Revere to Lexington.

With apologies to H.W. Longfellow, and for J. L. Bell of Boston 1775: CWCID

Comments

[Nexien]

Listen my children and let us pause
For the midnight ride of William Dawes
...

[GreenmanTim]

Touche, Tour Marm, I've Prescott slighted,
A wrong your rhyming verse has righted,
Yet there are others we've forgotton
Like Bancroft, who alerted Groton!
A. Prescott rode swiftly to Framingham,
A bareheaded rider arrived at Needham,
Though no one, it seems, remembered Waltham.
These patriots all played their part, giving warning
That the Reg'lars were out on that fateful Spring morning!

[The Tour Marm]

By the way thank you for linking to my Peale post!
Expect me to be a constant visitor!

[The Tour Marm]

Listen dear poster, you've quite forgot
There was a third rider whose name was Prescott
The good doctor's fame is quite diminished
Three started off, but only he finished!

With no apologies!

[GreenmanTim]

I credit the Bicentennial with solidifying my love of costume (it was my first exposure to theater alfresco) and of living history. I can remember the winter of my second grade year, suitably snowy, when we drove from our home in Worcester to Framingham to see an encampment of Henry Knox's artillery train en route to relieve the siege of Boston. My father's parents then lived in Princeton and my grandmother took me to see that battlefield and Trenton's and one of Washington's many headquarters. She had grown up in Newburgh, just up the street from the New Windsor encampment site, but I have only recently begun to explore the Revolutionary sites of the Hudson Highlands.

It's amazing what I remember from my 2nd grade Bicentennial curriculum. Emily has taken an interest in the period (George Washington still gets his due in 1st grade around this time of year) and I started telling her about Sybil Ludington, the female Paul Revere. Then I looked her up and found her Dutchess and Putnam County roots, as well as the connection of her ride to the Danbury Raid, in which my ancestor Ebenezer Olmsted fought on his home ground at Ridgefield, CT.

As always, my love to you and the Lord of High Valley!

[Miss Chestnuts]

Bravo, Tim!

In my childhood home, Patriot's Day and all things Revolutionary were celebrated more enthusiastically than any religious holiday. Rising before dawn at a friend's home in Concord each April 19th to watch the reenactment was a family tradition more important than birthdays. And the arrival of the Sudbury Fife and Drum Corps at my Bat Mitzvah in 1976 is my fondest memory of that Bicentennial year. All by way of saying how much I enjoy your Revolutionary postings.

Love ya,

Miss C. (and fondest regards from the Big E.)