The Redcoats are Coming!

by Marianne Hering

  “Come on!” Patrick shouted as he grabbed Beth’s arm. He pulled her along with him.

  The cousins raced to the front of the house. The crowd from the meetinghouse was coming down the road. Paul Revere was with them on his horse.

  “We’re rescued!” Patrick said. He swallowed hard as he tried to catch his breath. He glanced back in time to see Ross moving toward the cellar door.

  “Look,” Patrick said, pointing toward the cellar.

  Beth followed his gaze. “I hope there’s no more of them,” Beth said.

  “Just two,” Patrick said. “And they won’t get away.”

  Patrick stepped away from Beth. He waved his cane at the coming crowd. “Hurry! Spies! We found spies!” he shouted.

  Everyone on the road stared at him. At first they looked puzzled. Then the men began to walk quickly. Then they broke into a full run.

  “We’ll lead them to the cellar,” Patrick said to Beth. He raced ahead of her to the cellar door. All was dark below.

  John Hancock and Samuel Adams hurried to Patrick’s side. Paul Revere and the others followed.

  “They’re in there,” Patrick said. “Two of them.”

  “Come out!” John Hancock commanded.

  Nothing happened.

  “Come out, or we’ll tar and feather you,” Samuel Adams called.

  “They couldn’t escape that fast,” Patrick said.

  John Hancock shouted again for the men to come out.

  Ross appeared in the dim light below. Then Mr. Brown. They climbed slowly up the stairs and into the daylight.

  Mr. Brown was no longer wearing a hat. His long hair was tangled. He moved with a limp. His stockings were torn and dirty with soil and blood.

  “Explain yourselves,” John Hancock said.

  “What are you doing on the Reverend Clarke’s property?” Samuel Adams asked. His eyes narrowed. “You look like troublemakers. Start talking, or we’ll start boiling the tar.”

  “We’re not spies,” Mr. Brown said.

  “I’ll wager that these two children are the spies,” Ross said. He pointed a bony finger at Patrick. “I found the boy searching the stable.”

  “The girl was searching the house,” Mr. Brown said.

  “We’re not spies!” Patrick said. “They’re the spies. They’re lying!”

  “Why would you be here alone during meeting time?” Ross asked sharply. “Looking for weapons? Stores of ammunition? Important papers? What else were we to think? The Loyalists often use children to do their dirty work!”

  Mr. Brown waved a hand at Patrick and Beth. “There’s no doubt about it. They’re the spies and traitors!”

  Oh, Rats!

  Patrick was angry. They’re lying! he thought as he clenched his fists.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Samuel Adams said. He stepped forward. “There are ways to expose the real traitors.”

  “Come to the house,” Reverend Clarke said. Then he turned to an older child and said, “Please take your younger siblings off to play somewhere. We need privacy.”

  The adults moved inside with Beth and Patrick. John Hancock stood at the head of the dining table. Reverend Clarke stood next to him. Samuel Adams and Paul Revere took seats nearby.

  “Sit there,” John Hancock said to Patrick and Beth. He pointed to two chairs to the left of the table. Patrick and Beth obeyed. Sybil stood behind them.

  “And you men sit there,” John Hancock said. He pointed at two chairs to the right of the table. Mr. Brown hitched up his pants and sat down next to Ross.

  John Hancock pulled his gavel out of his pocket. Bang. Bang. Bang. “Speak first, you men,” he said. “You’re strangers to us. State your business here.”

  Mr. Brown spoke first. “We came from Boston yesterday to join the Patriots.”

  “You came from Boston?” Paul Revere asked. “Who told you to come to this house?”

  “Whittaker, the cane maker,” Mr. Brown said.

  Patrick nearly leaped from his chair. “Mr. Whittaker sent us,” he shouted. “He gave me this cane!”

  “Sit down, boy,” John Hancock said firmly.

  Patrick sat down. His face was red with anger and embarrassment.

  Mr. Brown cleared his throat and said, “Whittaker also said the Loyalists were using children as spies.”

  Patrick was ready to protest again. But Beth put a hand on his arm. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered to him.

  Patrick leaned back and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. He felt helpless. His fingers brushed against the button he’d found in the stable.

  “We spoke to the boy yesterday,” the man called Ross said. “He was acting suspiciously and carrying musket balls.”

  “Patrick was helping us,” Sybil said.

  “Sybil, how long have you known this boy and girl?” John Hancock asked.

  “I met them only yesterday,” Sybil said.

  John Hancock pointed his gavel at Patrick and Beth. “So, no one has ever seen you before yesterday. Where are you from? Where are your parents?”

  Patrick looked at Beth. She gazed at him helplessly. What could he say? Would they listen to the truth about Mr. Whittaker’s Imagination Station?

  Patrick’s fingers moved around the button in his pocket.

  My button! Patrick suddenly thought. An idea formed in Patrick’s head.

  “Sir,” Patrick said to John Hancock, “all the evidence I need is in the stable. May I go and get it?”

  “How do I know you won’t run away?” John Hancock asked.

  “I’ll go with him,” Samuel Adams said. “I’ll throttle him if he tries to run away.”

  Patrick scraped his chair backward. He ran out the door, across the grass, and into the stable. Mr. Adams followed him.

  Patrick headed to the back corner of the stable.

  “What are you up to?” Samuel Adams asked from behind him.

  Patrick picked up a large rock. He threw it at the pile of hay and compost. A dozen rats raced away.

  “This had better be worth it, boy,” Samuel Adams said. “That’s one foul-smelling heap.”

  Patrick used his cane to dig through the smelly nest.

  “It’s where I found my missing button,” Patrick told Samuel Adams. “If the rats took my button, then they must have—”

  Just then he saw the letter to Paul Revere.

  He knelt down and carefully picked it up. A corner had been nibbled off. “This is the letter Mr. Whittaker gave me to deliver. Look, it’s still sealed.”

  “So it is,” Samuel Adams said. “We had better deliver it.”

  Patrick and Samuel Adams returned to the house. Patrick handed the letter to Paul Revere. Paul Revere looked at the letter. Then he sniffed it and frowned.

  “I thought these two men stole the letter from me,” Patrick said as Paul Revere opened it.

  All eyes were on Paul Revere. He read the letter silently to himself. Then he looked up and whispered to John Hancock. He pointed to a section of the letter.

  John Hancock nodded. Then he turned to Mr. Brown and Ross. “You will come quietly or face the consequences,” he said.

  The two spies looked as if they were going to flee. Reverend Clarke and Samuel Adams moved next to them. Samuel Adams now had a small pistol in his hand.

  “Take them away!” John Hancock said. “Tie them up for now.”

  “How dare you!” Mr. Brown shouted. “What evidence do you have against us?”

  Paul Revere waved the letter in the air. “This is from my friend Whittaker in Boston. He’s the very man you claimed sent you,” he said. “You visited him to seek information about us. He knew you as Loyalists the moment he set eyes on you.”

  “He’s wrong!” Ross shouted. “Why would he think we were spies?”

  “Because he saw you both in Boston,” Paul Revere said. “You were chatting to a British captain and wearing Army redcoats.”

  “He was mistaken!” Mr. Brown said.

  “Mr. W
hittaker is never mistaken,” John Hancock said. “He sees everything and everyone in Boston.”

  Patrick suddenly remembered another detail. “Check his pockets, Mr. Adams,” he said. “That one called Ross has some papers.”

  “Turn out your pockets,” Samuel Adams said to Ross.

  The man obeyed. There was nothing but a few coins.

  “You forgot one,” Beth said and pointed to the inside of Ross’s coat.

  John Hancock didn’t move. Mr. Adams pushed the coat aside. He pulled out a wad of paper. He glanced through the pages.

  “Hand-drawn maps, names, addresses . . .” Samuel Adams said. “We need to burn these.”

  “Make certain the two men are locked up well,” John Hancock said.

  Reverend Clarke called his oldest son. They took the two spies away.

  Paul Revere slipped the letter into his pocket.

  John Hancock gazed at Patrick and Beth. “Thank you for being patient while we looked into the matter,” he said. “One never knows whom to trust these days.”

  “That’s what Ross told me,” Patrick said.

  John Hancock turned to Paul Revere and said, “You didn’t come all the way from Boston to catch spies. Why are you here?”

  “And why have you ridden on the Lord’s Day?” Sybil asked.

  Paul Revere looked at John Hancock and Samuel Adams. “I have come for you and Sam,” he said. “You are both now in great danger. You must flee, I tell you. Or you’ll be hanged.”

  Willing to Die

  Beth looked at John Hancock and Samuel Adams. They seemed stunned by the news.

  “Explain yourself,” Samuel Adams said.

  Paul Revere moved around the table. “The British officers know you are Patriot leaders.”

  Beth gave a little gasp. The men were in great danger. The British were after them.

  Paul Revere said, “The British believe you have important documents. Those documents show where the militia’s weapons and ammunition are stored.”

  John Hancock and Samuel Adams looked at each other.

  “If they capture you, they can hang you for treason,” Paul Revere said. “And they’ll ruin our means to fight.”

  “When will they take action?” Samuel Adams asked.

  “Soon,” said Paul Revere. “They’re up to something. A number of small boats with British soldiers were launched last night. The boats have been positioned close to the men-of-war.”

  “Men-of-war?” Patrick asked. “Do you mean more soldiers?”

  “Not soldiers,” Samuel Adams said. “Battleships. They carry cannons powerful enough to destroy a fort.”

  “I must get back to Boston,” Paul Revere said. “Be warned. Hide our weapons and any important papers you have.”

  Everyone said good-bye. Paul Revere left. Beth heard his horse’s hooves clomp away.

  The other men made plans. “First,” Samuel Adams said, “someone needs to watch over Mr. Hancock’s carriage in the stable.”

  Patrick volunteered to guard it. Beth felt proud of her cousin.

  Then Reverend Clarke returned. “I suspect we’ll have a busy day tomorrow,” he said.

  “Good,” Samuel Adams said to Patrick. “You’ll sound the alarm if someone tries to look inside it. We can hide it in the woods tomorrow.”

  “And the spies?” asked John Hancock.

  “Tied up and locked in the cellar,” replied Reverend Clarke. “I hope they like snakes and potatoes!”

  The rest of the day was quiet. Then everyone went to bed. Beth said good night to Patrick. She stood at the front door and watched him. He walked through the dark toward the stable.

  Just then Beth heard a loud bang from around the house. Patrick must have heard it too. He changed direction to follow the noise. Beth ran after him.

  They both reached the cellar door at the same time. It was lying open.

  A twig snapped farther away near the woods.

  Beth gasped. Two large shadows were disappearing into the trees.

  “The spies!” she shouted. “They’ve escaped!”

  Beth’s shouts brought the house to life. Reverend Clarke ran to the front door. He began barking orders to his older boys.

  “Go to the tavern and find the landlord, John Buckman,” he commanded. “Call out the minutemen to search for the spies. Tell Hancock we need more men to guard this house.”

  Clarke’s oldest son signaled two of his brothers. Then off they raced toward the tavern.

  Reverend Clarke waved to Patrick. “It’ll be safer if you spend the night in the kitchen,” he said. “We’ll trust God to watch John Hancock’s carriage.”

  Patrick was relieved. Fear of rats was bad enough. But fear of the British spies would’ve kept him awake all night.

  Patrick lay on the hard wood floor of the kitchen. He stared at the ceiling. He listened to bumps, thuds, and soft grunts.

  Some men patrolled outside the house so everyone could sleep safely.

  The next two days went by quickly. Patrick and Beth joined in the work around town. The cousins moved the ammunition and supplies to safer places.

  The Clarke children hid the carriage in the woods and moved important papers to the tavern.

  Patrick was surprised at the clever places the Clarkes found to hide weapons.

  He saw Patriots stash musket balls in the hollows of trees. Small packets of gunpowder were hidden in kitchen pots. Then the pots were topped off with grain and flour.

  Patrick helped bury muskets in boxes. Or hide them behind false walls in houses. He helped bury boxes of firearms under farm crops.

  Patrick and Beth returned to the Clarke’s house at the end of each day.

  At the end of the second day, they walked around to the back of the house and found Sybil. She smiled at them as she dismounted Star. Next to her was a tall brown horse. Its mane was jet black.

  Patrick heard drums beating in the distance. Rat-a-tat-tat.

  They reached Sybil and she said, “Something’s happened.”

  Sybil raced around to the front of the house. Patrick and Beth followed.

  They both stopped when they saw the reason for the beating drum. On Lexington Green men marched and drilled to its tapping. Each man wore a triangle-shaped hat and held a musket.

  Patrick watched the drills. His heart pounded with pride and fear.

  Old and young men marched. They were Patriots practicing to fight for their freedom. They were going to take up arms. They would fight against the king’s soldiers who were oppressing them. They were willing to die for what they believed in.

  Beth stood at Patrick’s side.

  “What’s today’s date?” he asked her.

  “I don’t know exactly,” she said. “Sometime in April 1775. Why?”

  “I think we’re watching the warm-up for battle,” Patrick said. “Remember the Battles of Lexington and Concord?”

  Beth gasped. “Something happened before that,” she said.

  “What?” Patrick asked.

  “Paul Revere’s ride,” she said.

  A Dangerous Ride

  At bedtime, Beth was tired—and bothered. She knew it was a night that would go down in history. Paul Revere would make his famous ride.

  Snippets of a poem ran through her head. But she could only remember a few words: “One if by land and two if by sea . . .”

  Patrick was no help. He couldn’t remember what had happened or when.

  The whole house was abuzz with activity. There was too much noise for Reverend Clarke’s younger children to sleep. He and Mrs. Clarke had a hard time getting them to stay in bed. The adults spoke in low voices between themselves.

  Beth lay in bed. She was sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Yet a sudden sound woke her up. Rat-a-tat-tat. Somewhere outside a drum banged out a loud beat.

  Beth sat up in bed. She didn’t know what time it was.

  Clang. Clang. Clang. A bell started to ring.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! Someone knocked on the front
door.

  Footsteps pounded on the floorboards in the halls. Doors slammed.

  “Let’s find out what’s happening,” Sybil said in the darkness.

  Beth jumped out of bed.

  The girls reached the ground floor.

  Paul Revere stood next to the dining table. He was talking with John Hancock, Samuel Adams, and Reverend Clarke. He wore a triangle hat and a long, heavy black coat. His thick boots were spattered with mud.

  What’s he doing here? Beth wondered. Isn’t he supposed to be out riding around the countryside? Or did he start his ride from here?

  Beth and Sybil joined the men. Patrick came in too. His hair was messed up. And his eyes looked puffy from sleeping.

  “It’s not safe for you to stay here,” Paul Revere said to John Hancock and Samuel Adams. “The redcoats are marching this way. They have orders to arrest both of you. And they’ll take our supplies.”

  Patrick said, “We moved a lot of supplies out to Concord today.”

  Paul Revere nodded. “I’ll ride on to Concord, then. I’ll rouse the countryside.”

  The men each shook his hand. “Be careful, Paul,” John Hancock said.

  Paul Revere touched the tip of his hat and then left.

  John Hancock and Samuel Adams began to discuss whether to leave. John Hancock wanted to stay and fight the British.

  Reverend Clarke insisted that both men were key leaders. They needed to live so they could build a new nation.

  The debate continued.

  Reverend Clarke leaned over a hand-drawn map. John Hancock and Samuel Adams studied it closely.

  Suddenly there was a loud crash. Beth and Patrick ran down the hallway. They reached the front door as Paul Revere rushed inside.

  “Paul! What are you doing here?” Reverend Clarke shouted.

  “I never made it to Concord. British soldiers stopped me,” Paul Revere said. He was breathing hard. “They took my horse.”

  Then he saw John Hancock and Samuel Adams. “Why are you still here?” Paul asked. “The redcoats are coming this way!”

  “It’s no longer a point of debate,” John Hancock said. He gestured to Samuel Adams. The two men prepared to leave.