The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1875-06-11


To you the words are ashes, but to me
they're burning Goals.
I had heard the mnsket's rattle Of the
April running battle;
Lord Percy's hunted soldiers, can see
their red coats still;
But deadly chill comes Ger me as the
day looms up before me,
When thousand men lay bleeding on
the slopes Of Bunker Hill.
Twas u peaceful summers morning,
when the first thing gave US warning
Was the booming of the cannon from
the river TO the shore;
''Child," says grandma, whats the mat
ter; what is all this noise and clatter?
Have those scalping Indian devils come
to murder us once more"
Poor old soul! my sides were shaking in
the midst of all my quaking,
To hear her talk of Indians when the
guns began to roar:
She had seen the burning village, and
the slaughter and the pillage,
When the Mohawks killed her father
with their bullets through his door.
Then said, "New, dear old granny, don't
you fret and worry any,
For I'll soon come back and tell you
whether this is work or play;
There can't be mischief in it, so / won't
be gone a minute
For minute then I started. was gone
the live-long day.
No time for bodice-lacing or for looking
glass grimacing;
Down my hair went as hurried, tum-
: bling halfway to my. heels;
God forbid your ever knowing, when
there's blood around her flowing,
How the lonely helpless daughter of a
quiet household feelsi
In the street heard th1mping; and l
knew it was the stumping
Ofthe Corporal, our old neighbor, on that
wooden leg he wore,
MlLu u kHOb "a NOA44CAl AO0Ai1 A.
was lucky I had found him,
So I followed with the others, and the
Corporal marched before.
They were making for the steer le,-the
old soldier and his people;
The pigeons circled around us As we
climbed the creaking stair.
Just across the narrow river-oh, 80 close
it made me shiver!
Stood fortress on the hilltop that but
yesterday was bare.
No: slow your eyes TO find it; well we
knew who stood behind it,
Though the earthwork hid them from us
and the stubborn walls were dumb,
Here were sister, wife and mother, look
ing wild upon each other,
And their lips we're white with terror, al
theV said, The HOUR HAS COME!
The morning slowly wasted not a morsel
had we tasted,
And our heads were almost splitting with
the eannon's deafening thrill,
When figure tall and stately round the
rampant strobe sedately;
II was Prescott, one since told me; he
commanded on the hill.
Every woman's heart grew bigger when
we saw his manly figure,
With the banyan buckled round it, stand.
ing up so straight and tall;
Like gentleman of leisure who is stroll
ing out for pleasure,
Through the storm of shells and cannon
shot he walked around the wall.
At IL the streets were swarming, for the
red coats ranks were forming;
At noon in marching order they were
moving to the piers;
How the bayonets cleaned and glistened
as we looked far down and listened
To the tramplIng and the drum beat o
the belted grenadiers.
AT length the men have started, with ;
cheer (is seemed faint hearted)
In their scarlet regimentals, with thei
knapsacks on their Dacks,
And the reddening, rippling water, as af
ter sea fights slaug ghter,
Round the barges gliding onward blush
ed like blood along their tracks.
So they crossed to the other border, ant
again they formed in order;
: And the boats came back for soldiers
came back for soldiers, soldiers still;
The time seemed everlasting to us wo
men faint and fasting
At last they're moving, marching, march
ing proudly up the hill.
We can see the bright steel glancing a
along the lines advancing
Now the front rank fires a volley-the
have thrown away their shot;
For behind their earthwork lying, all tn
balls above them flying,
Our people need not hurry; so they wal
and answer not.
Then the Corporal, our old cripple (h
would swear sometimes and tipple)-
He had heard the bullets whistle lin ii
old French War) before
Calls ont in words of jeering, just as
they all were hearing
And his wooden leg thumps fercely {
the dusty belfry floor:
"Oh! fire away, ye villains, and eai
King Georges shillIn's,
But ye'll waste a ton of powder before
rebel falls;
You may bang the dirt and welcom
they're az safe as Danl Malcolm
Ten foot beneath the gravestone tn
you've splintered with your ballsp
In the hush of expectation, in the av
and trepidation
Of the dread approaching moment, '
are well nigh breathless all;
Though the rotten bars are falling on Il
rickety belfry railing,
We are crowding up against them lii
the waves against wall.