Waterbury Democrat., 1901-05-31
GRANDMoTHER'S STORY
Of Bunker Hill Battle as She Saw it
 From fhe BeIfry.


 Iris like stirring living embers, when, at eighty, one remembers, All the achings and the quakings of the times that tried mems souls; When talk of whig and tory, when tell the rebel story, To you the words are ashes, but to me they're burning coals. I had heard the lnuskets' rattle of the April running battle; Lord Percy's hunted soldiers, l can see their red coats still; But a deadly chill comes OCT me as the day looms up before me, When a thousand men lay bleeding on the slopes of Bunker's Hill. ,Twas a peaceful summers morning, when the first thing gave us warm ing,
 Was the booming of the cannon from the river and the shore; ssChfId,'' says grandma, whats the matter, what is all this noise and clatter2 Have those scalping Indian devils come to murder us once morer Poor old souli 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 I said: s'Now, dear old granny, don't you fret and worry any, For PII soon come back and tell you whether this is work or play; There can't be mischief in it, so I won't be gone a minute"- For a minute then started, was gone the Hve-long day. No time for bodice lacing, or for look ing glass grimacing; Down my hair went as hurried tum- bling halfway to my heels; God forbid you're knowing when there's blood around her flow ing,
 How the lonely, helpless daughter of a quiet household feelsi In the street heard humping and knew it was the stumping Of the corporal, our old neighbor, on that wooden leg he wore. With a knot of women round him-it was lucky I had found him, So I followed with the others, and the corporal marched before. They were making for the steeple-the old soldier and his people; The pigeons circled round us as we climbed the creaking stair, Just across the narrow riyer-oh, so close it made me shiyer! Stood a fortress on the hilltop that but yesterday was bare. Not slow our eyes to find it; well we knew who stood behind it, Though the earth-work hid them from us and the stubborn walls were dumb;
 Here were sister. wife and mother, looking wild upon each other, And their lips were white with terror as they said the hour has comet The morning slowly wasted, not a morseI had we tasted, And our heads were almost splitting with the cannon's deafening thrill
 When a figure, tall and stately, round the rampant strode SC dately;
 It 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 buclxled round it, standing up so straight and tall, | Like a gentleman of leisure who is strolling out for pleasure, Through the storm of shells and can non shot he walked around the wall,
 At eleven 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 gleamed and glis- tened, as we looked far down and listened
 To the trampling and the drum beat of the belted grenadiers. At length the men have started with cheer Git seemed faint hearted) In their scarlet regimentals, with their knapsacks on their backs, And the reckoning, rippling water as after sea fights slaughter; Round the, barges gliding onward blushed like blood along their tracks.
 So they crossed to the other border. and again they formed in order. And the boats came back for soldiers. came for soldiers, soldiers still; The time seemed everlasting to us women faint and fasting; At last they're moving marching, marching proudly up the hill. We can see the bright steel gIancing all along the lines advancing ~-C AAOAA AduA uIGS a -FOllGY- they have thrown away their shot:
 For behind their earthwork lying. all the balls above them flying. Our people need not hurry, so they wait and answer not. Then the corporal, our old cripple ohe would swear sometimes and tip- pIel-
 He had heard the bullets whistle in the old French wars before. Calls out in words of jeering. just as if they all were hearing. And his wooden leg thumps fierceIy on the dusty belfry floor. Oh. fire away, ye villains. and earn King Georges shiIlings But yell waste a ton of powder be fore rebel falls; You may bang the dirt and welcome. they're as safe as DanT Nal cOlIn.
 Ten foot beneath the gravestones that you've splintered with your
 balls
 In the hush of expectation, in the awe and trepidation Of the dread approaching moment, we are well-nigh breathless all; Though the rotten bars are failing on the rickety belfry railing, We are crOWdfRQ m against them uLe