There are several places of public worship, which are well attended. Our schoolhouse fronts the very road on which the British soldiers marched to Lexington and Concord early on the nineteenth of April, 1775.
At the foot of what is now called Central street, on the southwest corner, stands a large elm tree. (It is a beautiful tree when covered with its rich, green foliage in summer.) A few yards towards the north is to be seen an old cellar, on which a dwelling stood at the time of the Revolution.
This dwelling was owned and occupied by a widow and her family. A little after twelve o'clock on the morning of the nineteenth of April, she was awakened by an unusual noise.
She instantly got up and went out, and, looking toward the road, she there saw large bodies of armed soldiers, marching silently on, the moonbeams glancing on their murderous weapons.
There was no sound of marshal music to, stir the soldier's heart to battle or to victory, but they passed on, like midnight assassins, bent on deeds of treachery and murder, and such indeed proved to be their errand. The widow drew a long breath, and, leaving her place of concealment, she instantly aroused her oldest boy, a youth about fifteen years of age, and despatched him to the nearest neighbor with the news that the troops had passed up the road. This neighbor immediately mounted his horse and rode to Old Cambridge, where he gave the alarm. The bell of the parish church was rung, the intelligence, spreading, soon reached Lexington; the rest is matter of history.
The battle of Lexington was the beginning of the drama of the Revolution, which ended so glorious to our country, and for which we should be so thankful.
