Judah Loring loaded, and I fired over and over and over
again, till it seemed as if he and I were one creature.
A musket, I should explain to you, feels nothing of itself, but only
receives a double share of the nature of the man who carries it.
I felt ALIVE that day. Judah was hot, but I was hotter; and, before
the cartridge box was empty, he pulled down his homespun blue and
white frock sleeve over his wrist, and rested me upon it when he
took aim. He was a gentle-hearted fellow, though as brave as his
musket.
"She's so hot," says he, doubling his sleeve into his palm, "that I
can't hold her; but I can't stop firing NOW!"
I met his wishes exactly, I knew by that word; for he always called
every thing he liked, SHE. The sun was SHE; so was his father's old
London-made watch; so was the Continental Congress.
General Washington saw the whole;--the enemy, driven back before our
fire, could never be brought to look us in the face again. We held
the ground;--the Virginia troops rallied; --General Washington took
off his cocked hat, and lifted it high, like a finished gentleman,
as he was. "Hurrah!" he shouted, "God bless the New England troops!
God bless the Massachusetts line!" [Footnote: This was all fact,
related by one who was present.] And his steady face flamed and gave
way like melting metal.
Ah, what a set of men were those! I felt the firm trip-hammer of all
their pulses beat through the whole fight, for we stood in platoon,
shoulder to shoulder.
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