Stories, Poems and Songs

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This poem was taken from "An Oration Delivered in Acton, MA on the

29th of October 1851: It being the Celebration of the Completion of the

Granite Monument erected on the Acton Common where the remains of

Captain Isaac Davis, Privite Abner Hosmer and James Hayward lie."

By Earle Wetherbee Tuttle,

Editor of the Patriot; Supplement to Beacon Publication

In honor of Crown Resistance Day

Concord Bridge, April 19, 1775

A poem by James McQuade

A poem by FLORENCE PIPER TUTTLE

Twice Captain of the Acton Davis Blues. Served in the War of 1812-1814

Abel Forbush wrote the following poem for the Centenial of the battle at Old North Bridge, April 19, 1875

THE WHITE COCKADE was the music by which the Minutemen marched

to the bridge that fateful day in April 1775.

Dance steps to the music of the White Cockade

The Spirit - April 1975

The American Spirit - July 4, 1976

A poem which was read at the dedicaion of the Tell-Tale Tomb

Not every hero of the American Revolution was a soldier

by Elizabeth West and Katherine S. Talmadge

(or ghostly bits & pieces)

Acton Citizen; October 28, 1994

The Fifer of Boxborough

by Elizabeth West and Katherine S. Talmadge

The History Magazine for Young People

Septemeber 1983 pages 10 & 11

Not every hero of the American Revolution was a soldier. In fact, the first person wounded at the Battle of Concord did not carry a gun - he carried a fife. He was a teenage musician named Luther Blanchard. Luther was the fifer for the Isaac Davis Minute Company of Acton, Massachusetts.

Fifers never carried weapons. Although they marched at the head of a line of soldiers, no one really expected them to fight. The fifer's responsibility was to set the rhythm of the march. The music also helped to raise the soldiers' spirits, as did the fifer's own good example of marching boldly into battle.

Although Luther Blanchard was part of an Acton company, he was originally from Boxborough, a tiny neighboring town. He had moved to the Acton home of Jonathan Hosmer to learn the stonemason's trade. Hosmer had a son named Abner, who became Luther's good friend. Together the two boys joined a local company of minutemen, led by Captain Isaac Davis. Luther was 18 years old when he signed up.

Before daylight on April 19, 1775, a horseman rapped on the side of an Acton home, relaying the news that the British soldiers were marching to Concord. The colonial minutemen and militia were to rendezvous at Old North Bridge in Concord. The confrontation for which they had drilled was about to happen.

It was still dark when Luther and Abner arrived at the Davis home to take their place in line. Soon the march to Concord began. Was Luther excited or frightened? No one knows for sure. We do know that he and drummer Francis Barker led the troops briskly on the long, sunrise march. Luther played a traditional marching tune, "The White Cockade."

Unlike the British Army, the minutemen were not highly skilled. They were farmers. They had no uniforms, and each even had to supply his own weapons. Some had muskets with bayonets, but others had only axes or hunting knives. As they marched to Concord to meet the army of the King of England, they had no way of knowing how many other groups of minute, men would help them. But they were determined. As Captain Davis declared, "I haven't a man that is afraid to go!"

When Luther's company reached the Old North Bridge, the men were ordered not to fire unless fired upon. Then enemy shots rang out. At first, everyone supposed that the British had fired warning shots into the air to scare off the rebels. But they had not. One of the first bursts of fire hit Luther Blanchard in the chest. When Luther fell, Captain Davis immediately gave the order to fire back. But as Captain Davis took aim, he was shot through the heart and killed. Luther's friend Abner dropped too, shot in the head.

Luther went to a nearby home for medical attention. Mrs. Barrett, the woman of the house, bandaged his wound and tried to tell the boy how lucky he had been. "A little more [toward your heart] and you'd have been killed!" she said. "Yes," replied Luther, "but a little more [the other way] and it would not have touched me at all."

Later, Luther rejoined his troop and helped drive the British back to their encampment in Charlestown. For months he participated in other battles. His wound from that first skirmish never fully healed, however, and five months after receiving it he died at an emergency hospital on the campus of Harvard College.

The little town of Boxborough has never forgotten its brave fifer. The town seal bears his picture, and each year in June the entire town turns out for the Fifer's Festival to honor him. It is a way to pay tribute to all the brave men who marched that April morning so long ago, to confront the King of England. Most went to fight. But Luther Blanchard, the first one wounded, went only to help-not with -a gun, but with a fife.

The Man of Acton

Concord Bridge, April 19, 1775

Published in the ACTON PATRIOT, Saturday May 8, 1875

Forth in the morning chill and gray,

Came Captain Davis, with his sword

Unsheathes in hand, to take his way

To meet the British at Concord.

But first he kissed his children dear,

Still sleeping soundly in their beds,

And brushed away a gathering tear,

“Perchance I'll not come back, “ he said.

“And if I should not, faithful wife.

Do thou close guard these little ones;

Mayhap tis foreordained my life

Will fall before the British guns.”

The mother stifles sobs and wails:

In last embrace their arms entwine - -

For now the growing light unveils

The Acton men drawn up in line.

The captain in their front appears,

And waves his polished saber high,

They greet him with resounding cheers,

With fiery glances from each eye.

“Ye men of Acton; Davis cried,

Has every one his weapon true?

Is every pouch with balls supplied?

Are flints in plenty-horns filled, too?

“Aye, Captain, aye!” they answering shout;

Each man is ready for the fight;

We'll put the redcoats to the rout

Before the dew shall fall tonight.”

“The forward! In the name of God!

O'Lord of hosts, on us look down;”

Silent, the men of Acton trod

The road that leads to Concord town.

The town is reached; the British troop

Sent forth by vengeful Gage, are there

In fierce array; no courage droops

While men of Acton breathe a prayer.

Beyond the river's slender stream,

By which the grassy hillsides' cleft,

Deploy, the Concord muskets gleam,

The men of Acton on their left.

Full gently o'er a peaceful scene

The sun had shed his early ray,

But noontide, on old Concord Green,

Forged vengeful darts that April day.

Sweet birds that mid the buds at morn

Soft springtide harmonies awoke,

Affrighted fly, from branches torn

And cruel gashed with bullet stoke.

For now the British inward move

To tear the planks from staunch North Bridge.

Their valor in the fray to prove

The men of Acton quit the ridge.

Cries Davis “Forward, Acton men!

The time has come to do or die!

Swift charge the foe, charge, charge again,

Until he's forces the bridge to fly!”

Scarce had he spoke when British lead

Cut down the Acton leader brave;

Prone on the field lay Davis - - dead- -

To fill a patriot martyr's grave.

He lived not through the glorious day

That ushered in our Nation's fame;

But grateful countrymen for aye

Will bless the men of Acton's name.

The verses are from the pen of Gen, James McQuade, New York, April 19,1875, who was a prominent leader in the late war.

Gen. McQuade was formerly Mayor of Utica N.Y. and at one time editor of the Utica Daily Observer.

Battle of the North Bridge

Twice Captain of the Acton Davis Blues. Served in the War of 1812-1814 On April 19, 1875, the Centenial of the battle at North Bridge Abel Forbush at the age of 79 years old and a veteran of the Revolutionary War of 1812 wrote the following poem. Twenty years before, in 1855 he was thrown from a carriage, and injured so that he had not been strong enough to work since.

The nineteenth day of April, as you shall understand,

Seven hundred British Red Coats came marching up through Lexington town

They arrived at old Concord, just at the break of day,

To ravish steal and plunder, and take our lives away.

The nineteenth day of April, one hundred years ago today,

Since the British red-coats came a marching up this way;

With a band of martial music they marched into town,

For to destroy our property, and burn our buildings down.

Horror of Horrors, what was our surprise,-

What was to be done; when they beheld old Concord and Acton minute men

Already on the ground; they stood like men distracted,

They knew not which way to turn, until some old infernal Tory stepped up

and told them what must be done,

The only way to save themselves was to turn their backs and run.

They nineteenth day of April it was, when the war began.

No man on earth was wise enough to tell us how many would be slain;

Capt. Davis Abner Hosmer, was killed by that band;

But we paid them back in their own coin, by killing ten for one.

Old England you are distracted, you know not what you've done,

To fight your own relations, on any foriegn land;

You thought you could scare us, make us all to run,

You'll find you are mistaken, before the war is done.

We have selected a bold commander, who fears no sword or gun,

The second Alaxander, his name is Washington,

His troops are all collected, and ready for the fray,

To fight as they are directed, for North America

Fight on, Fight on you American boys,

Fear not old England's thundering noise,

Maintain your rights from year to year,

God's on your side you need not fear.

Tales From the Crypt

(or ghostly bits & pieces)

Acton Citizen - October 28, 1994

Acts like a ghost

By George! Theatre III at 250 Central St has a resident ghost. He is affectionately referred to as "George" by his friends in the theater group. He is a benevolent spirit who believes "the show must go on." He always seems to be there when needed: preventing accidents, keeping the lights burning, or just being good company. According to Theatre lII members, he once prevented some heavy scenery from falling on the actors. The lights have gone out all over Town, but never at the theater. George always keeps them on, even in electrical storms. No one has actually seen George, but he often keeps late night workers company with his footsteps or by opening and shutting doors. (So theatrical of him.) For those skeptical of our ghost story, Theatre III, occupying a former church building, really does have "bats in the belfry

Revolutionary spirit

Acton has its very own haunted house! But, sorry, we cannot reveal the location in order to protect the gentle spirit that resides there. The house was occupied during the Revolutionary War by a young woman courted by a young man who went to great lengths to keep his British identity a secret. It's speculated that he was a British spy, searching for the location of the area's powder mills. Alas, the Sons of Liberty caught on to him, and swiftly dealt him punishment. They hanged him from the tree in the front yard, leaving the young maiden to mourn her lover and to spend her days singing melancholy-ballads. The present owner of the house says her spirit is a peaceful one, but on one occasion she has revealed her presence. This was some years back when the owner had totally closed up the house before leaving on a long vacation. It's reported that a police officer was called to the empty house by several reports of ' -you guessed it - a young lady singing.

Remains of the day

The Davis Monument in Acton Center stands as a proud memorial to Capt. Isaac Davis and Privates Abner Hosmer and James Hayward, Acton residents killed in Concord on April 19, 1775. The monument's cornerstone was laid on August 21, 1851, and dedication exercises took place on October 29, 1851. A few ghosts must have been awakened when I the remains of the three men were exhumed from their resting place in the old I burying ground (now Woodlawn Cemetery) in preparation for re-interment at the monument. The remains were in excellent condition, with hair on the skulls and most teeth in place. The cheek of Hosmer showed the place through which the enemy's ball had passed. The bones were placed in a three-compartment walnut box with silver plates bearing the men's names. The box was then taken by hearse to the Town Center in a reverent procession, accompanied by an honor guard and solemn music. There it was placed on a viewing stand so all could see the remains. Later, it was placed within the monument where it rests today.

Not so final resting place

In 1870 the Town constructed a new receiving tomb at Woodlawn Cemetery, a place where the-bodies of those who died in winter could repose while the ground was too frozen for grave digging. This tomb was built to replace the Elbridge Robbins family tomb that the Town rented for $1 a year. Two people likely to have encountered spirits here were Asaph Parlin and Nathaniel Brown. Parlin and Brown were cemetery caretakers in the early 1900's. It's been reported that they were in the habit of avoiding the noonday sun by lunching in the tomb, followed by a brief nap on the coffin benches before resuming their afternoon duties.

At dark, cemeteries seem eerie and foreboding; places surely frequented by specters of questionable friendliness. By day, however, they can be beautiful and peaceful. Acton's three cemeteries- Woodlawn Cemetery, Concord St. Mount Hope, Central St, and North Cemetery on Carlisle Rd. are well maintained with manicured lawns and seasonal plantings. They can be the perfect place for a walk, and a look at some of the names and epitaphs on the headstones can be interesting and informative, especially since some of our local ones date back to as early as 1743. They can reveal bits of history and pieces of the past, and even a little advice for the future. Many a stonecutter of the past chiseled out a similar admonition such as this one found in Woodlawn Cemetery on the grave of Mr. Josiah Hayward, who died on May 6, 1783:

Whoever you be that see my hearse,

Take notice of and learn this verse,

For by it you may understand,

You have not time at your command.

By FLORENCE PIPER TUTTLE

South Acton (1935)

I am the Acton, which your fathers planned with pride,

Those humble folk, who toiled to clear the land,

And build their simple homes here, side by side,

Living, as neighbors should. With willing hand

They shared their work, their joys, their ills, that you

Among my peaceful hills might long abide,

Doing the work God willed that you should do.

Then hostile whisperings of power and greed,

And thought of paying toll to Britain's king,

Caused all our patriot hearts to smart and bleed;

When Freedom spoke and said, "I am your King."

The Challenge echoed through the nightly air,

Till Davis bravely sensed the hour of need,

And led our men in answer to our prayer.

Then everyone of Acton's Minute Men, -

Those men who'd never faced a foe before, -

Unwavering stood the enemy's fire. 'Twas then

That Davis fell, and with him fell two more;

Great souls that nobly died that we'd be free,

A sacrifice that stirred in hearts of men,

Plans for a nation that was yet to be.

A granite pile enshrines their dust today,

Lifting its proud head to the azure skies;

That God's sweet light of peace may about it play,

Till all the Glories of our past shall rise, -

Courage and valor, dignity and truth,

Dreams of a nobler and a better day, -

A heritage, indeed, for Acton's youth.

A Poem by John Pierpont

"There stands, and looks out on the Grecian seas

"And there shall stand-thy tomb, Themistocles.

"Memorial stones, that like the silent stars

"That o'er them, nightly, drive their viewless cars

"Have neither speech, nor language that is heard