Some think him in Durham, that afternoon,
To General John Sullivan came he first to commune.
Others say he’d head to Portsmouth, nonstop,
To the good people there, the time opportune
For the tillers of field, the keepers of shop,
The netters of fish, Sons of Liberty all,
To respond to his news, swiftly answer the call
Of patriots inflamed by this new British threat,
The gravest of dangers to menace them yet.
Whatever his route, whomever he saw
As he drew to the fire from the elements raw,

Shivering with cold, extremities froze’d
The plans of the English he swiftly disclosed.
His unburdened heart was encouraged by all
He heard and observed, of his listeners transposed
By his tale of new dangers, soon to answer his call.

The word, like a wildfire, quickly o’erspread the town,
From James Stoodley’s tavern to the top of Church Hill,
Through the shops, down the pond to Pickering’s mill,
Skirting by Staver’s, ’neath the sign of the crown.
From Samuel Cutts to Sheafes, Sherburnes and Halls,
From millers to merchants to fishmongers’ stalls
Whispered by men, lads and women in shawls,
The message passed swiftly up hill and down.

Fort William and Mary, on New Castle’s shore
Held munitions and arms, gunpowder and more.
Lightly defended, but not now for long
With the British approach just delayed by the storm.
With imminent onslaught sure due before long,
Plans for its capture must in haste take up form.

By noon the next day, to a drum beat’s tattoo,
A throng had assembled about the Parade,
Near to the State House, the multitude grew.
Governor Langdon, with rising alarm,
Told the Provincial Chief Justice the crowd to disarm,
To plead with their leaders, from rebellion dissuade.