Reliving history at Battle of Lexington
Reenactors spend lot of time, money to get facts right
LEXINGTON - It was a cold and foggy morning when the bell sounded.
Out of the mist, the militiamen began to assemble in a row with their muskets. Within a few minutes appeared their enemies, the wig-wearing redcoats of His Majesty's Tenth Regiment of Foot, their bayonet-tipped Brown Bess flintlocks at the ready.
When the mysterious first shot rang out around dawn yesterday, it was just like that fateful day 234 years before on the Lexington Green, except the gray-haired men squaring off looked a lot older than their ancestral combatants. There was also no blood and a lot of fake groaning, as well as sleep-deprived neighbors, history buffs, and members of the news media with cameras to chronicle every drumbeat. The annual reenactment of the Battle of Lexington has spawned its own traditions and veterans, with their own ahistorical gripes.
"A lot of us put considerable money and effort into this, and everybody still forgets about what the meaning of Patriots' Day is all about," said Tom Balcom, 47, of Melrose, whose redcoat paraphernalia cost him more than $1,200 and countless hours of training. "They think they get the day off because of the marathon. Well, it's a lot more than a bunch of people lining up for a run. This is a big deal."
After all the fireworks and garbled shouting during the mock attack - the real one in 1775 sparked the Revolutionary War and led to the creation of the United States - Balcom left formation and marched toward his car in a wool waistcoat, bearskin hat, and white breeches, the smell of sulfur still spewing from his Brown Bess. The six-year veteran of the reenactments, a history buff who served as staff sergeant in the US Army, said he does not mind playing the enemy, adding that he is considering expanding his portfolio to play a Nazi in an upcoming reenactment of a World War II battle.
"Somebody has to play the bad guy to make the good guy look good," Balcom said. "I've often said that when we get booed, we've done our job and done it good."
From his vantage point along the ropes at the edge of the Green, Aaron Foster, 10, of Newton agreed that Balcom and the others performed admirably, even if he was bleary eyed after waking up at 2:30 a.m. to get such a good view.
"This was much better than those History Channel TV shows that try to dramatize it," he said. "They show what really happened, which was cool."
Elizabeth Simms, 11, of Dover, was surprised by all the gunfire. In school, she learned about the Shot Heard Around the World, she said. "I learned today that they shot much more."
Among the shooters in vintage dress was David Kemper, 53, of Center Ossipee, N.H., who has performed in the reenactment for 10 years. With turkey feathers in his hat, gaiters over his boots, and a powder horn hanging from his shoulder, he now inhabits the part of Abner Mead, a colonial who was 30 years younger than he was at the time, and lived long enough to participate in the first reenactment of the battle, Kemper said.
As Mead, Kemper stood his ground briefly as the British charged the Colonial line and then retreated with the others, firing as many as three shots as the redcoats killed eight of his men and wounded 10. Of the hundreds of British regulars who marched into Lexington, they had one wounded. The redcoats would fare much worse as they fought losing battles from Concord to Charlestown.
For Kemper, the effort is well worth the expense and time.
"This is living history," he said. "It's a pretty overwhelming experience to bring history to life. This is where we earned our freedom." 