Compare the "Paul Revere of Johnstown" stories with the primary sources
Within a few days of the Flood a rumor started spreading through the press about a "Paul Revere of Johnstown," who rode down the valley on horseback warning people that the dam had broken and to "head for the hills." He stayed at his mission to the very end, drowning in the Flood, rather then heading for the hills himself.
The story soon made it into newspapers all over the world. No one was quite sure if his name was Daniel Peyton, Daniel Periton, or something else. The important thing is that he was selfless and brave, a real hero. At least two songwriters honored him with tribute songs.
Just one problem -- none of the Flood survivors remembered him! Worse, the moral of some of these stories was that the the people of Johnstown had been warned the Flood was coming. They just decided it was a false alarm and didn't take shelter! How would you feel if people blamed you for the fact that you lost your home and familiy?
Then read the primary sources below from people who actually experienced the Flood. What parts of these stories might have been the inspiration for the "Paul Revere" stories and songs?
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Songwriters couldn't resist the story of a brave horseman who lost his life warning others about the Flood. Two of them are The Peerless Rider March by Harry Lincoln and The Johnstown Flood by Joseph Flynn. |
As reported in the Johnstown Horror
Heroism in Bright Relief
A Paul Revere lies somewhere among the dead. Who he is is now known, and his ride will be famous in history. Mounted on a grand, big horse, he came riding down the pike which passes through Conemaugh to Johnstown, like some angel of wrath of old, shouting his warning: “Run for your lives to the hills! Run to the hills!”
The people crowded out of their houses along the thickly settled streets awestruck and wondering. No one knew the man, and some thought he was a maniac and laughed. On and on, at a deadly pace, he rode, and shrilly rang out his awful cry. In a few moments, however, there came a cloud of ruin down the broad street, down the narrow alleys, grinding, twisting, hurling, overturning, crashing – annihilating the weak and the strong. It was the charge of the flood, wearing its coronet of ruin and devastation, which grew at every instant of its progress. Forty feet high, some say, thirty according to others, was this sea, and it traveled with a swiftness like that which lay in the heels of Mercury.
On and on raced the rider, on and on rushed the wave. Dozens of people took heed of the warning and ran up to the hills.
Poor, faithful rider, it was an unequal contest. Just as he turned to cross the railroad bridge the mighty wall fell upon him, and horse, rider and bridge all went out into chaos together.
A few feet further on several cars of the Pennsylvania Railroad train from Pittsburgh were caught up and hurried into the caldron, and the heart of the town was reached.
The hero had turned neither to right or left for himself, but rose on to death for his townsmen. He was overwhelmed by the current at the bridge and drowned. A party of searchers found the body of this man and his horse. He was still in the saddle. In a short time the man was identified as Daniel Periton, son of a merchant of Johnstown, a young man of remarkable courage. He is no longer the unknown hero, for the name of Daniel Periton will live in fame as long as the history of this calamity is remembered by the people of this country.
From the book The Johnstown Horror, 1889. Pages 190-192.