W22:D1 - The American Revolution - Lexington and Concord and the Second Continental Congress-Podcast

The Whisper of a Revolution: The Days Before Lexington and Concord

By mid-April 1775, everyone knew something was coming, but few knew exactly when or where. The British forces, under General Thomas Gage, were growing impatient, as were the colonial leaders who had long anticipated the coming storm. What few understood, however, was that the next few days would spark a revolution that would change the world forever.

 

Two days before the infamous Battle of Lexington and Concord, General Gage made a decision that would set the wheels of rebellion in motion. His orders were clear: British Regulars would march from Boston, under the cover of darkness, to capture the leaders of the resistance—Samuel Adams and John Hancock—and seize the weapons stockpiled in the town of Concord. This operation was intended to be swift and decisive, breaking the backbone of the growing insurgency before it could ignite into full-blown war.

 

But even in the well-guarded halls of British power, whispers could not be silenced. The colonial resistance was not just in the streets; it had infiltrated the very heart of British command. Within the governor’s mansion itself, eyes and ears were always listening. Gage was meticulous in his planning, discussing the mission in hushed tones, certain that his strategy would remain a secret.

 

However, history has long whispered a different story. It is still not clear, even to this day, but some believe that the spy who leaked the details of Gage’s plan was someone very close to him—his own wife, Margaret Kemble Gage. Margaret was an American-born woman, sympathetic to the colonial cause, and it is possible that she overheard her husband’s plans and passed the information along to Patriot spies. Whether or not it was her, the Patriots knew the British would be coming—and they knew soon enough to prepare for it.

 

The Patriot intelligence network in Boston was vast and efficient, a shadow organization hidden in plain sight. Among those at its core was Dr. Joseph Warren, a physician by trade but a revolutionary by heart. Warren, who had connections throughout the city, received word of Gage’s plans from an unknown source—perhaps from Margaret Gage herself. Whoever it was, the information was crucial: the British would march within days, and the Patriots needed to be ready.

 

Warren quickly devised a plan. He sent word to two men who would play pivotal roles in the coming hours: Paul Revere and William Dawes. Revere, the silversmith, was already known for his work as a courier for the Sons of Liberty, while Dawes, a tanner by trade, had proven himself an equally reliable messenger. The two men were to ride out to Lexington and Concord, warning the countryside that the British were coming.

 

But how would they know if the British were coming by land or by sea? This was the critical detail that needed to be communicated to Revere and Dawes. Warren arranged for two lanterns to be hung in the steeple of the Old North Church, the tallest building in Boston at the time, a beacon visible from miles away. The plan was simple, but its execution would be vital: one lantern if the British were coming by land, two if by sea.

 

The days ticked by, the city on edge. Finally, on the night of April 18, 1775, British forces began to move. Warren’s spies had confirmed the final piece of intelligence—Gage’s troops would cross the Charles River by boat, making their way toward Lexington and Concord from the sea.

 

With this information in hand, the message had to be sent. Under the cover of darkness, two men quietly made their way to the Old North Church. These men were John Pulling, a church sexton, and Robert Newman, the church’s caretaker. Both were trusted Patriots who understood the gravity of their mission. They carried two lanterns with them as they crept through the shadows, careful to avoid the British patrols that were already tightening their grip on the city.

 

Pulling and Newman knew that if they were caught, they would be charged with treason—a crime punishable by death. But they also knew the importance of what they were doing. As they climbed the narrow stairs of the Old North Church, every creak of the wood and every gust of wind outside seemed to heighten the tension. They reached the top, out of breath and nervous, but determined.

Once at the top, they raised the lanterns high into the air, signaling with two lights: The British are coming by sea.

 

Stationed on the river’s edge, but still in Boston, Paul Revere waited. When he saw the flickering lights. It was the signal he needed. Without wasting a moment, Revere jumped into a row boat and crossed the Charles River. When he arrived he mounted his horse and began his famous ride. At the same time, William Dawes set off on a different route, ensuring that the message would reach as many Patriots as possible. Revere would ride through Charlestown and Medford warning the Patriots in those towns, while Dawes rode through Roxbury and Brookline.

 

As Revere and Dawes galloped through the night, the countryside stirred to life. Riders spread the word, and the militia—known as the Minutemen—began to gather. They knew the British Regulars were coming, and they knew they needed to be ready to face them. The lanterns had done their job; the Patriots had been warned.

 

And so, in the hours before dawn on April 19, the stage was set for what would become the opening shots of the American Revolution. The British Regulars would reach Lexington at sunrise, but instead of finding a defenseless town, they were met by armed men ready to stand their ground. The musket fire that erupted that morning would echo across the world, igniting the struggle for freedom.

 

Though the details of how the Patriots learned of Gage’s plans remain shrouded in mystery, one thing is certain: the actions of a few brave individuals—riders, spies, lantern-bearers—ensured that the people of Massachusetts were ready. The revolution had begun, and it was because of their courage and determination.