[206] This poem refers to the campaign during the late summer of 1814 against the English fleet on Lake Ontario and Lake Champlain.
THE BATTLE OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN
September 11, 1814
Between the british squadron, of 93 guns and 1050 men, and the
American fleet of 86 guns and 820 men. The Confiance, of
39 and the Saratoga, of 26 guns, were the flag ships of
the two commanders, Downie and Macdonough.
Parading near saint Peter's flood
Full fourteen thousand soldiers stood;
Allied with natives of the wood,
With frigates, sloops, and galleys near;
Which southward, now, began to steer;
Their object was, Ticonderogue.
Full fourteen thousand soldiers stood;
Allied with natives of the wood,
With frigates, sloops, and galleys near;
Which southward, now, began to steer;
Their object was, Ticonderogue.
Assembled at Missisqui bay
A feast they held, to hail the day,
When all should bend to british sway
From Plattsburg to Ticonderogue.
A feast they held, to hail the day,
When all should bend to british sway
From Plattsburg to Ticonderogue.
And who could tell, if reaching there
They might not other laurels share
And England's flag in triumph bear
To the capitol, at Albany!!!
They might not other laurels share
And England's flag in triumph bear
To the capitol, at Albany!!!
Sir George advanced, with fire and sword,
The frigates were with vengeance stored,
The strength of Mars was felt on board,—
When Downie gave the dreadful word,
Huzza! for death or victory!
The frigates were with vengeance stored,
The strength of Mars was felt on board,—
When Downie gave the dreadful word,
Huzza! for death or victory!
Sir George beheld the prize at stake,
And, with his veterans, made the attack,
Macomb's brave legions drove him back;
And England's fleet approach'd to meet
A desperate combat, on the lake.
And, with his veterans, made the attack,
Macomb's brave legions drove him back;
And England's fleet approach'd to meet
A desperate combat, on the lake.
With sulphurous clouds the heavens were black;
We saw advance the Confiance,
Shall blood and carnage mark her track,
To gain dominion on the lake.
We saw advance the Confiance,
Shall blood and carnage mark her track,
To gain dominion on the lake.
Then on our ships she pour'd her flame,
And many a tar did kill or maim,
Who suffer'd for their country's fame,
Her soil to save, her rights to guard.
And many a tar did kill or maim,
Who suffer'd for their country's fame,
Her soil to save, her rights to guard.
Macdonough, now, began his play,
And soon his seamen heard him say,
No Saratoga yields, this day,
To all the force that Britain sends.
And soon his seamen heard him say,
No Saratoga yields, this day,
To all the force that Britain sends.
"Disperse, my lads, and man the waist,
Be firm, and to your stations haste,
And England from Champlain is chased,
If you behave as you'll see me."
Be firm, and to your stations haste,
And England from Champlain is chased,
If you behave as you'll see me."
The fire began with awful roar;
At our first flash the artillery tore
From his proud stand, their commodore,
A presage of the victory.
At our first flash the artillery tore
From his proud stand, their commodore,
A presage of the victory.
The skies were hid in flame and smoke,
Such thunders from the cannon spoke,
The contest such an aspect took
As if all nature went to wreck!
From isle La Motte to Saranac[A]
Such thunders from the cannon spoke,
The contest such an aspect took
As if all nature went to wreck!
From isle La Motte to Saranac[A]
[A] A river which rises from several small lakes among the mountains to the westward of Lake Champlain, and after a north easterly course of near seventy-five miles, enters the grand lake in the vicinity of Plattsburg.—Freneau's note.
Amidst his decks, with slaughter strew'd,
Unmoved, the brave Macdonough stood,
Or waded through a scene of blood,
At every step that round him stream'd:
Unmoved, the brave Macdonough stood,
Or waded through a scene of blood,
At every step that round him stream'd:
He stood amidst Columbia's sons,
He stood amidst dismounted guns,
He fought amidst heart-rending groans,
The tatter'd sail, the tottering mast.
He stood amidst dismounted guns,
He fought amidst heart-rending groans,
The tatter'd sail, the tottering mast.
Then, round about, his ship he wore,
And charged his guns with vengeance sore,
And more than Etna shook the shore—
The foe confess'd the contest vain.
And charged his guns with vengeance sore,
And more than Etna shook the shore—
The foe confess'd the contest vain.
In vain they fought, in vain they sail'd,
That day; for Britain's fortune fail'd,
And their best efforts nought avail'd
To hold dominion on Champlain.
That day; for Britain's fortune fail'd,
And their best efforts nought avail'd
To hold dominion on Champlain.
So, down their colors to the deck
The vanquish'd struck—their ships a wreck—
What dismal tidings for Quebec,
What news for England and her prince!
The vanquish'd struck—their ships a wreck—
What dismal tidings for Quebec,
What news for England and her prince!
For, in this fleet, from England won,
A favorite project is undone:
Her sorrows only are begun—
And she may want, and very soon,
Her armies for her own defence.
A favorite project is undone:
Her sorrows only are begun—
And she may want, and very soon,
Her armies for her own defence.
A DIALOGUE AT WASHINGTON'S TOMB
Genius of Virginia—and—Virginia.
Genius. Who are these that lawless come
Washington! too near thy tomb?—
Are they those who, long before,
Came to subjugate this shore?—
Are they those whom he repell'd,
Captured, or imprison'd held?
Or the sons of those of old
Cast in nature's rudest mould,—
Dear Virginia, can it be?
What a stain is laid on thee!
Washington! too near thy tomb?—
Are they those who, long before,
Came to subjugate this shore?—
Are they those whom he repell'd,
Captured, or imprison'd held?
Or the sons of those of old
Cast in nature's rudest mould,—
Dear Virginia, can it be?
What a stain is laid on thee!
Virginia. Such a stain as I do swear
Fills my swelling heart with care
How to wash away the stain,
How to be myself again.
From my breast the hero rose,
In my soil his bones repose:
But this insult to thy shade,
Washington, shall be repaid.
Fills my swelling heart with care
How to wash away the stain,
How to be myself again.
From my breast the hero rose,
In my soil his bones repose:
But this insult to thy shade,
Washington, shall be repaid.
Genius. Dear Virginia! tell me how?—
Tell me not, or tell me now,
Can you wield the bolts of Jove,
Seize the lightnings from above?
Tear the mountain from its base
To confound this hated race,
Who, with hostile step, presume
To violate the honor'd tomb
Of my bravest, noblest son,
Of th' immortal Washington!
Tell me not, or tell me now,
Can you wield the bolts of Jove,
Seize the lightnings from above?
Tear the mountain from its base
To confound this hated race,
Who, with hostile step, presume
To violate the honor'd tomb
Of my bravest, noblest son,
Of th' immortal Washington!
Virginia. Not the artillery of the sky,
Not the vengeance from on high
Did I want, to guard my son,
I have lightnings of my own!
But I wanted——
Not the vengeance from on high
Did I want, to guard my son,
I have lightnings of my own!
But I wanted——
Genius. ——Wanted what?
Tell me now, or tell me not.
Tell me now, or tell me not.
Virginia. Men, whom Washington had taught,
Men of fire, and men of thought,
All their spirits in a glow,
Ever ready for the foe;
Born to meet the hostile shock,
Sturdy as the mountain oak—
Active, steady, on their guard,
For the scene of death prepared;
Such I wanted—say no more;
Time, perhaps, may such restore.
Men of fire, and men of thought,
All their spirits in a glow,
Ever ready for the foe;
Born to meet the hostile shock,
Sturdy as the mountain oak—
Active, steady, on their guard,
For the scene of death prepared;
Such I wanted—say no more;
Time, perhaps, may such restore.
Genius. By the powers that guard this spot,
Want them longer you shall not,
I, the patron of your land,
From this moment take command,
Kindle flames in every breast,
Thirst of vengeance for the past;
Vengeance, that from shore to shore
Shall dye your bay with english gore,
And see them leave their thousands slain,
If they dare to land again:
This is all I choose to say—
Seize your armour—let's away!
Want them longer you shall not,
I, the patron of your land,
From this moment take command,
Kindle flames in every breast,
Thirst of vengeance for the past;
Vengeance, that from shore to shore
Shall dye your bay with english gore,
And see them leave their thousands slain,
If they dare to land again:
This is all I choose to say—
Seize your armour—let's away!
SIR PETER PETRIFIED
On the Modern Sir Peter Parker's[207] Expedition to Kent Island in Chesapeake Bay.
—1814—
Sir Peter came, with bold intent,
To persecute the men of Kent
His flag aloft display'd:
He came to see their pleasant farms,
But ventured not without his arms
To talk with man or maid.
To persecute the men of Kent
His flag aloft display'd:
He came to see their pleasant farms,
But ventured not without his arms
To talk with man or maid.
And then the gallant colonel Reed
Said, "we must see the man indeed;
He comes perhaps in want—
Who knows but that his stores are out:
Tis hard to dine on mere sour krout,
His water may be scant."
Said, "we must see the man indeed;
He comes perhaps in want—
Who knows but that his stores are out:
Tis hard to dine on mere sour krout,
His water may be scant."
He spoke—but soon the men of Kent
Discover'd what the errand meant,
And some, discouraged, said,
"Sir Peter comes to petrify,
He points his guns, his colors fly,
His men for war array'd!"
Discover'd what the errand meant,
And some, discouraged, said,
"Sir Peter comes to petrify,
He points his guns, his colors fly,
His men for war array'd!"
Secure, as if they own'd the land,
Advanced this daring naval band,
As if in days of peace;
Along the shore they, prowling, went,
And often ask'd some friends in Kent
Where dwelt the fattest geese?
Advanced this daring naval band,
As if in days of peace;
Along the shore they, prowling, went,
And often ask'd some friends in Kent
Where dwelt the fattest geese?
The farmers' geese were doom'd to bleed;
But some there were, with colonel Reed,
Who would not yield assent;
And said, before the geese they take,
Sir Peter must a bargain make
With us, the boys of Kent.
But some there were, with colonel Reed,
Who would not yield assent;
And said, before the geese they take,
Sir Peter must a bargain make
With us, the boys of Kent.
The Britons march'd along the shore,
Two hundred men, or somewhat more;
Next, through the woods they stray'd:
The geese, still watchful, as they went,
To save the capitol of Kent
Their every step betray'd.
Two hundred men, or somewhat more;
Next, through the woods they stray'd:
The geese, still watchful, as they went,
To save the capitol of Kent
Their every step betray'd.
The british march'd with loaded gun
To seize the geese that gabbling run
About the isle of Kent:
But, what could hardly be believed,
Sir Peter was of life bereaved
Before he pitch'd his tent.
To seize the geese that gabbling run
About the isle of Kent:
But, what could hardly be believed,
Sir Peter was of life bereaved
Before he pitch'd his tent.
Some kentish lad, to save the geese,
And make their noisy gabbling cease
Had took a deadly aim:
By kentish hands sir Peter fell,
His men retreated, with a yell
And lost both geese and game!
And make their noisy gabbling cease
Had took a deadly aim:
By kentish hands sir Peter fell,
His men retreated, with a yell
And lost both geese and game!
Now what I say, I say with grief,
That such a knight, or such a chief
On such an errand died!!!
When men of worth their lives expose
For little things, where little grows
They make the very geese their foes;
The geese his fall deride:
That such a knight, or such a chief
On such an errand died!!!
When men of worth their lives expose
For little things, where little grows
They make the very geese their foes;
The geese his fall deride:
And, sure, they laugh, if laugh they can,
To see a star and garter'd man
For life of goose expose his own,
And bite the dust, with many a groan—
Alas! a gander cry'd—
"Behold, (said he,) a man of fame
Who all the way from England came
No more than just to get the name
Of Peter Petrified!"
To see a star and garter'd man
For life of goose expose his own,
And bite the dust, with many a groan—
Alas! a gander cry'd—
"Behold, (said he,) a man of fame
Who all the way from England came
No more than just to get the name
Of Peter Petrified!"
[207] Sir Peter Parker, commander of the British Frigate Menelaus, was prominent for a month in the blockading squadron in Chesapeake Bay during the summer of 1814. After the burning of Washington he was ordered down the bay "but Sir Peter said he 'must have a frolic with the yankees before he left them' and on the 30th of August after dancing and drinking they proceeded to the sport and made a circuitous route to surprise Col. Read encamped in Moore's fields not far from Georgetown X Roads on the eastern shore of Maryland. The Colonel was fully apprised of their proceedings.... The ground was obstinately contended for nearly an hour when the enemy retreated leaving thirteen killed and three wounded on the field. It is ascertained that they carried off seventeen others among whom was Sir Peter who, with several others, are since dead."—Niles' Register.
ON THE DEATH OF GENERAL ROSS[208]
Who had the principal command of the english army at the attack upon
Baltimore, in which he fell, while out with a reconnoitering party.
Give them the shadow of the cypress bough!
The chief who came our prowess to defy,
Who came, to bind fresh laurels on his brow,
Who came, too sure to conquer not to die:—
Low lies the chief upon th' unconscious plain,
The laurels wither, and no wreathes remain.
The chief who came our prowess to defy,
Who came, to bind fresh laurels on his brow,
Who came, too sure to conquer not to die:—
Low lies the chief upon th' unconscious plain,
The laurels wither, and no wreathes remain.
To kindle up your torch, ambition's flame
Heroic chief, had all its flames supplied;
A monarch's smiles, a never-dying name,
The historian's subject, and the soldier's pride;
Your native land with splendid trophies hung;
Joy sparkling in the eye, and praise from every tongue.
Heroic chief, had all its flames supplied;
A monarch's smiles, a never-dying name,
The historian's subject, and the soldier's pride;
Your native land with splendid trophies hung;
Joy sparkling in the eye, and praise from every tongue.
Deceived how much! a name alone remains,
Not yet complete in fame, nor ripe in years;—
What is the applause such thirst of glory gains,
Which not the grave regards or valor hears:
In war's wild tumult, for a name he died,
He fell, the victim of a monarch's pride.
Not yet complete in fame, nor ripe in years;—
What is the applause such thirst of glory gains,
Which not the grave regards or valor hears:
In war's wild tumult, for a name he died,
He fell, the victim of a monarch's pride.
A country's rights, or freedom to defend
May sooth the anguish of a dying hour,
A ravaged land to succor or befriend,
To brave the efforts of a tyrant's power:
These may console, when mad ambition's train
Fade from the view, or sooth the soul in vain.
May sooth the anguish of a dying hour,
A ravaged land to succor or befriend,
To brave the efforts of a tyrant's power:
These may console, when mad ambition's train
Fade from the view, or sooth the soul in vain.
[208] General Robert Ross, who with Sir George Cockburn had burned Washington, was killed at North Point, Md., Sept. 12, 1814.
ON THE NAVAL ATTACK NEAR BALTIMORE[209]
September 14, 1814
The sons of old ocean advanced from the bay
To achieve an exploit of renown;
And Cochrane and Cockburn commanded, that day,
And meant to exhibit a tragical play,
Call'd, The plunder and burning of Baltimore town.
To achieve an exploit of renown;
And Cochrane and Cockburn commanded, that day,
And meant to exhibit a tragical play,
Call'd, The plunder and burning of Baltimore town.
The scenes to be acted were not very new,
And when they approach'd, with their rat-tat-too,
As merry as times would allow,
We ran up the colors to liberty true,
And gave them a shot, with a tow-row-dow.
And when they approach'd, with their rat-tat-too,
As merry as times would allow,
We ran up the colors to liberty true,
And gave them a shot, with a tow-row-dow.
By land and by water how many have fail'd
In attacking an enemy's town,
But britons they tell us, have always prevail'd
Wherever they march'd, or wherever they sail'd,
To honor his majesty's sceptre and crown:
Wherever they went, with the trumpet and drum,
And the dregs of the world, and the dirt, and the scum,
As soon as the music begun,
The colors were struck, and surrender'd the town
When the summons was given of down, down, down!
In attacking an enemy's town,
But britons they tell us, have always prevail'd
Wherever they march'd, or wherever they sail'd,
To honor his majesty's sceptre and crown:
Wherever they went, with the trumpet and drum,
And the dregs of the world, and the dirt, and the scum,
As soon as the music begun,
The colors were struck, and surrender'd the town
When the summons was given of down, down, down!
But fortune, so fickle, is turning her tide,
And safe is old Baltimore town,
Though Cockburn and Cochrane, with Ross at their side,
The sons of Columbia despised and defy'd,
And determined to batter it down;
Rebuff'd and repulsed in disgrace they withdrew,
With their down, down, down, and their rat-tat-too,
As well as the times would allow:
And the sight, we expect, will be not very new
When they meet us again, with our tow-row-dow.
And safe is old Baltimore town,
Though Cockburn and Cochrane, with Ross at their side,
The sons of Columbia despised and defy'd,
And determined to batter it down;
Rebuff'd and repulsed in disgrace they withdrew,
With their down, down, down, and their rat-tat-too,
As well as the times would allow:
And the sight, we expect, will be not very new
When they meet us again, with our tow-row-dow.
[209] After the burning of Washington the British fleet and army concentrated upon Baltimore. Here they met a stubborn resistance and were at length beaten off. It was during the bombardment of Fort McHenry near the city that Francis Scott Key composed the patriotic song "The Star Spangled Banner."
ON THE BRITISH BLOCKADE
And Expected Attack on New York, 1814
Old Neversink,[A] with bonnet blue,
The present times may surely rue
When told what England means to do:
The present times may surely rue
When told what England means to do:
[A] The highlands, a little southward of Sandy Hook; being a tract of bold high country, several thousand acres in extent; to the southward of which there is no land that may be termed mountainous, on the whole coast of the United States to Cape Florida. The real aboriginal name of this remarkable promontory was Navesink, since corrupted into Neversink.—Freneau's note.
Where from the deep his head he rears
The din of war salutes his ears,
That teazed him not for thirty years.
The din of war salutes his ears,
That teazed him not for thirty years.
What can be done in such a case?—
His rugged heights the blast must face,
The storm that menaces the place.
His rugged heights the blast must face,
The storm that menaces the place.
With tents I see his mountain spread,
The soldier to the summit led,
And cannon planted on his head:
The soldier to the summit led,
And cannon planted on his head:
From Shrewsbury beach to Sandy Hook
The country has a martial look,
And quakers skulk in every nook.—
The country has a martial look,
And quakers skulk in every nook.—
What shall be done in such a case?—
We ask again with woful face
To save the trade and guard the place?
We ask again with woful face
To save the trade and guard the place?
Where mounted guns the porte secure,
The cannon at the embrasure,
Will british fleets attempt to moor?
The cannon at the embrasure,
Will british fleets attempt to moor?
Perhaps they may—and make a dash,
To fill their pockets with our cash—
Their dealings now are rather harsh.
To fill their pockets with our cash—
Their dealings now are rather harsh.
They menace to assail the coast
With such a fleet and such a host
As may devour us—boil'd or roast.
With such a fleet and such a host
As may devour us—boil'd or roast.
Their feelings are alive and sore
For what they got at Baltimore,
When, with disgrace, they left the shore,
For what they got at Baltimore,
When, with disgrace, they left the shore,
And will revenge it, if they can,
On town and country, maid and man—
And all they fear is Fulton's plan;
On town and country, maid and man—
And all they fear is Fulton's plan;
Another scheme, entirely new,
Is hammering on his anvil too,
That frightens christian, turk, and jew.
Is hammering on his anvil too,
That frightens christian, turk, and jew.
A frigate,[B] mounting thirty six!—
Who'er with her a quarrel picks
Will little get but cuffs and kicks:
Who'er with her a quarrel picks
Will little get but cuffs and kicks:
[B] The steam frigate Fulton the First: Qui me percellit morti debetur—who strikes at me to death is doomed!—Freneau's note.
A frigate meant to sail by steam!—
How can she else but torture them,
Be proof to all their fire and flame.
How can she else but torture them,
Be proof to all their fire and flame.
A feast she cooks for England's sons
Of scalded heads and broken bones
Discharged from iron hearted guns.
Of scalded heads and broken bones
Discharged from iron hearted guns.
Black Sam[C] himself, before he died,
Such suppers never did provide;—
Such dinners roasted, boil'd, and fry'd.
Such suppers never did provide;—
Such dinners roasted, boil'd, and fry'd.
[C] A character well known in New York several years since, remarkable for elegance and luxurious refinements in the art of cookery.—idem.
To make a brief of all I said—
If to attack they change blockade
Their godships will be well repaid
If to attack they change blockade
Their godships will be well repaid
With water, scalding from the pot,
With melted lead and flaming shot,
With vollies of—I know not what,
With melted lead and flaming shot,
With vollies of—I know not what,
The british lads will be so treated:
Their wooden walls will be so heated,
Their ruin will be soon completed.
Their wooden walls will be so heated,
Their ruin will be soon completed.
Our citizens shall stare and wonder—
The Neversink repel their thunder
And Cockburn miss a handsome plunder.
The Neversink repel their thunder
And Cockburn miss a handsome plunder.
ROYAL CONSULTATIONS
Relative to the Disposal of Lord Wellington's Army
Said the goth to the vandal, the prince to the king,
Let us do a mad action, to make the world ring:
With Wellington's army we now have the means
To make a bold stroke and exhibit new scenes.
Let us do a mad action, to make the world ring:
With Wellington's army we now have the means
To make a bold stroke and exhibit new scenes.
A stroke at the states is my ardent desire,
To waste, and harass them with famine and fire;
My vengeance to carry through village and town,
And even to batter their capitol down.
To waste, and harass them with famine and fire;
My vengeance to carry through village and town,
And even to batter their capitol down.
The vandal then answer'd, and said to the goth,
Dear George, with yourself I am equally wroth:
Of Wellington's army dispose as you please,
It is best, I presume, they should go beyond seas;
For, should they come home, I can easily show
The hangman will have too much duty to do.
Dear George, with yourself I am equally wroth:
Of Wellington's army dispose as you please,
It is best, I presume, they should go beyond seas;
For, should they come home, I can easily show
The hangman will have too much duty to do.
So, away came the bruisers, and when they came here
Some mischief they did, where no army was near:
They came to correct, and they came to chastise
And to do all the evil their heads could devise.
Some mischief they did, where no army was near:
They came to correct, and they came to chastise
And to do all the evil their heads could devise.
At Washington city, they burnt and destroy'd
Till among the big houses they made a huge void;
Then back to their shipping they flew like the wind,
But left many more than five hundred behind
Of wounded and dead, and others say, double;
And thus was the hangman excused from some trouble.
Till among the big houses they made a huge void;
Then back to their shipping they flew like the wind,
But left many more than five hundred behind
Of wounded and dead, and others say, double;
And thus was the hangman excused from some trouble.
Alexandria beheld them in battle array;
Alexandria they plunder'd a night and a day.
Then quickly retreated, with moderate loss,
Their forces conducted by Cockburn and Ross.
Alexandria they plunder'd a night and a day.
Then quickly retreated, with moderate loss,
Their forces conducted by Cockburn and Ross.
At Baltimore, next, was their place of attack;
But Baltimore drove them repeatedly back;
There Rodgers they saw, and their terror was such,
They saw they were damn'd when they saw him approach.
But Baltimore drove them repeatedly back;
There Rodgers they saw, and their terror was such,
They saw they were damn'd when they saw him approach.
The forts were assail'd by the strength of their fleet,
And the forts, in disorder beheld them retreat
So shatter'd and crippled, so mangled and sore,
That the tide of Patapsco was red with their gore.
And the forts, in disorder beheld them retreat
So shatter'd and crippled, so mangled and sore,
That the tide of Patapsco was red with their gore.
Their legions by land no better succeeded—
In vain they manoeuvered, in vain they paraded,
Their hundreds on hundreds were strew'd on the ground,
Each shot from the rifles brought death or a wound.
One shot from a buckskin completed their loss,
And their legions no longer were headed by Ross!
In vain they manoeuvered, in vain they paraded,
Their hundreds on hundreds were strew'd on the ground,
Each shot from the rifles brought death or a wound.
One shot from a buckskin completed their loss,
And their legions no longer were headed by Ross!
Where they mean to go next, we can hardly devise,
But home they would go if their master was wise.
But home they would go if their master was wise.
Yet folly so long has directed their course;
Such madness is seen in the waste of their force,
Such weakness and folly, with malice combined,
Such rancor, revenge, and derangement of mind,
That, all things consider'd, with truth we may say,
Both Cochrane and Cockburn are running away.[A]
Such madness is seen in the waste of their force,
Such weakness and folly, with malice combined,
Such rancor, revenge, and derangement of mind,
That, all things consider'd, with truth we may say,
Both Cochrane and Cockburn are running away.[A]
[A] About this time, September, 1814, the admirals Cochrane and Cockburn quitted the coast of the United States in their respective flag ships.—Freneau's note.
To their regent, the prince, to their master the king
They are now on the way, they are now on the wing,
To tell them the story of loss and disaster,
One begging a pension, the other a plaister.
Let them speed as they may, to us it is plain
They will patch up their hulks for another campaign,
Their valor to prove, and their havoc to spread
When Wellington's army is missing or dead.
They are now on the way, they are now on the wing,
To tell them the story of loss and disaster,
One begging a pension, the other a plaister.
Let them speed as they may, to us it is plain
They will patch up their hulks for another campaign,
Their valor to prove, and their havoc to spread
When Wellington's army is missing or dead.
ON THE LOSS OF THE PRIVATEER BRIGANTINE
GENERAL ARMSTRONG
Captain Samuel C. Reid, of New-York, which sailed from Sandy Hook, on a cruise, the ninth of September, 1814, and on the 26th came to
anchor in the road of Fayal, one of the Azores, or Western Islands, a neutral port belonging to the crown of Portugal. She anchored
in that port for the purpose of procuring a supply of fresh water, when she was attacked by the british ship of war
Plantaganet, of 74 guns, capt. Lloyd; the Rota frigate of 36 guns, and the armed national brig Carnation,
of 18 guns, and many barges of considerable force, all of which she repulsed, with an
immense slaughter, and was then scuttled and sunk by order of Captain Reid,
to prevent her falling into the hands of the enemy.
The Armstrong arrived in the port of Fayal,
And her actions of valor we mean to recall;
Brave Reid, her commander, his valorous crew,
The heroes that aided, his officers, too.
Shall it fall to their lot
To be basely forgot?
O no! while a bard has a pen to command
Their fame shall resound through american land.
And her actions of valor we mean to recall;
Brave Reid, her commander, his valorous crew,
The heroes that aided, his officers, too.
Shall it fall to their lot
To be basely forgot?
O no! while a bard has a pen to command
Their fame shall resound through american land.
In the road of Fayal, when their anchors were cast,
The british were watching to give them a blast;
Not far from the port, for destruction sharp set,
Lay the Rota, Carnation, and Plantagenet:
With a ship of the line
Did a frigate combine,
And a brig of great force, with her boats in the rear,
To capture or burn one New-York privateer!
The british were watching to give them a blast;
Not far from the port, for destruction sharp set,
Lay the Rota, Carnation, and Plantagenet:
With a ship of the line
Did a frigate combine,
And a brig of great force, with her boats in the rear,
To capture or burn one New-York privateer!
Four boats from the brig were despatch'd in great haste,
And onward they came, of the Armstrong to taste;
To taste of her powder, to taste of her ball,
To taste of the death she must hurl on them all!—
They came in great speed,
And with courage, indeed,
Well mann'd and well arm'd—so they got along side,
Destruction their motto, damnation their guide.
And onward they came, of the Armstrong to taste;
To taste of her powder, to taste of her ball,
To taste of the death she must hurl on them all!—
They came in great speed,
And with courage, indeed,
Well mann'd and well arm'd—so they got along side,
Destruction their motto, damnation their guide.
Now the Armstrong, with vengeance, had open'd her fire,
And gave them as much as they well could desire;
A score of them fell—full twenty fell dead—
Then quarters! they cried, and disgracefully fled:—
To their ships they return'd
Half shatter'd and burn'd—
Not quite in good humor, perhaps in a fret,
And waited new orders from Plantagenet.
And gave them as much as they well could desire;
A score of them fell—full twenty fell dead—
Then quarters! they cried, and disgracefully fled:—
To their ships they return'd
Half shatter'd and burn'd—
Not quite in good humor, perhaps in a fret,
And waited new orders from Plantagenet.
Then the Armstrong haul'd in, close abreast of the beach,
So near, that a pistol the castle could reach;
And there she awaited the rest of their plan,
And there they determined to die, to a man,
Ere the lords of the waves
With their sorrowful slaves,
The tyrants, who claim the command of the main,
With strength, though superior, their purpose should gain.
So near, that a pistol the castle could reach;
And there she awaited the rest of their plan,
And there they determined to die, to a man,
Ere the lords of the waves
With their sorrowful slaves,
The tyrants, who claim the command of the main,
With strength, though superior, their purpose should gain.
And now the full moon had ascended the sky,
Reid saw by her light that the british were nigh:
The bell of Fayal told the hour—it was nine—
When the foe was observed to advance in a line;
They manoeuvred a while
With their brig, in great style,
Till midnight approach'd when they made their attack,
Twelve boats, full of men, and the brig at their back!
Reid saw by her light that the british were nigh:
The bell of Fayal told the hour—it was nine—
When the foe was observed to advance in a line;
They manoeuvred a while
With their brig, in great style,
Till midnight approach'd when they made their attack,
Twelve boats, full of men, and the brig at their back!
They advanced to the conflict as near as they chose,
When the Armstrong her cannon discharged on her foes—
The town of Fayal stood aghast in amaze
The Armstrong appear'd like all hell in a blaze!
At the blast of Long Tom
The foe was struck dumb:
O lord! are the sons of old England alarm'd—
With music like this they were formerly charm'd!
When the Armstrong her cannon discharged on her foes—
The town of Fayal stood aghast in amaze
The Armstrong appear'd like all hell in a blaze!
At the blast of Long Tom
The foe was struck dumb:
O lord! are the sons of old England alarm'd—
With music like this they were formerly charm'd!
Huzza for old England! three cheers, and a damn!
And up to the conflict they manfully came;
On the bows and the quarters they grappled a hold,
And board! was the word in those barges so bold;
But board they could not—to no devil she strikes,
So the Armstrong repell'd them with pistols and pikes—
From her musquetry fire
They by dozens expire!
And soon was the work of destruction complete,
And soon was determined their total defeat—!
And up to the conflict they manfully came;
On the bows and the quarters they grappled a hold,
And board! was the word in those barges so bold;
But board they could not—to no devil she strikes,
So the Armstrong repell'd them with pistols and pikes—
From her musquetry fire
They by dozens expire!
And soon was the work of destruction complete,
And soon was determined their total defeat—!
Three hundred brave fellows were wounded and kill'd,
Their boats and their barges with slaughter were fill'd;
With shame they retreated, the few that remain'd,
To tell the event of the battle—not gain'd:
Their commander in chief
Was astounded with grief!—
Dont grieve, my good fellows—he hail'd them—I beg
I too have my wounds—"an ox trod on my leg!"
Their boats and their barges with slaughter were fill'd;
With shame they retreated, the few that remain'd,
To tell the event of the battle—not gain'd:
Their commander in chief
Was astounded with grief!—
Dont grieve, my good fellows—he hail'd them—I beg
I too have my wounds—"an ox trod on my leg!"
But to save the stout Armstrong—even Reid could not do—
A ship of the line with a frigate in tow—!
A brig of their navy accoutred for war—!
All this was too much for e'en yankees to dare:
So he scuttled his barque—
Nor need we remark
That she sunk on the sands by the beach of Fayal
With her colors all flying—no colors could fall!
A ship of the line with a frigate in tow—!
A brig of their navy accoutred for war—!
All this was too much for e'en yankees to dare:
So he scuttled his barque—
Nor need we remark
That she sunk on the sands by the beach of Fayal
With her colors all flying—no colors could fall!
Of neutrals what nonsense some tell us each day!
Exists there a neutral where Britain has sway?
The rights of a neutral!—away with such stuff—
What neutral remains that can England rebuff?—
To be safe from disgrace
The deep seas are our place:
The flag of no neutral our flag can defend,
By ourselves we must fight, on ourselves must depend.
Exists there a neutral where Britain has sway?
The rights of a neutral!—away with such stuff—
What neutral remains that can England rebuff?—
To be safe from disgrace
The deep seas are our place:
The flag of no neutral our flag can defend,
By ourselves we must fight, on ourselves must depend.
Now in bumpers of reason, success to brave Reid!
Himself and his heroes are heroes indeed!—
In conquests, like this, can an englishman glory,
One traitor among us, one Halifax tory?
If they can—let them brag—
Here's success to our flag!
May it ever be ready, the britons to maul,
As the Armstrong behaved in the road of Fayal.—
Himself and his heroes are heroes indeed!—
In conquests, like this, can an englishman glory,
One traitor among us, one Halifax tory?
If they can—let them brag—
Here's success to our flag!
May it ever be ready, the britons to maul,
As the Armstrong behaved in the road of Fayal.—
ON THE BRIGANTINE PRIVATEER
Prince de Neufchatel[210]
Ordonneaux, commander, which arrived at Boston some time since, from a cruise
of three months, chiefly in the english and irish channels, in which she
captured thirteen or fourteen valuable prizes, to the amount,
it was said, of more than a million of dollars.
Quid petis hic est.—Martial.
What is wealth, that men will roam,
Risque their all, and leave their home,
Face the cannon, beat the drum,
And their lives so cheaply sell!
Risque their all, and leave their home,
Face the cannon, beat the drum,
And their lives so cheaply sell!
Let them reason on the fact
Who would rather think than act—
Their brains were not with morals rack'd
Who mann'd the prince of Neufchatel.
Who would rather think than act—
Their brains were not with morals rack'd
Who mann'd the prince of Neufchatel.
Having play'd a lucky game,
Homeward, with her treasure, came
This privateer of gallant fame,
Call'd the prince of Neufchatel.
Homeward, with her treasure, came
This privateer of gallant fame,
Call'd the prince of Neufchatel.
Are the english cruisers near?
Do they on the coast appear
To molest this privateer?—
—She shall be defended well.
Do they on the coast appear
To molest this privateer?—
—She shall be defended well.
Soon a frigate hove in sight:—
As the wind was rather light,
She, five barges, out of spite,
Sent, to attack, with gun and blade.
As the wind was rather light,
She, five barges, out of spite,
Sent, to attack, with gun and blade.
On our decks stood rugged men,
Little more than three times ten;
And I tremble, while my pen
Tells the havoc that was made.
Little more than three times ten;
And I tremble, while my pen
Tells the havoc that was made.
Up they came, with colors red,
One a stern, and one a head—
Shall I tell you what they said?—
Yankees! strike the buntin rag!
One a stern, and one a head—
Shall I tell you what they said?—
Yankees! strike the buntin rag!
Three were ranged on either side—
Then the ports were open'd wide,
And the sea with blood was dyed;
Ruin to the english flag!
Then the ports were open'd wide,
And the sea with blood was dyed;
Ruin to the english flag!
Now the angry cannons roar,
Now they hurl the storm of war,
Now in floods of human gore
Swam the prince of Neufchatel!
Now they hurl the storm of war,
Now in floods of human gore
Swam the prince of Neufchatel!
Then the captain, Ordonneaux,
Seconded the seaman's blow,
And the remnant of the foe
Own'd the brig defended well.
Seconded the seaman's blow,
And the remnant of the foe
Own'd the brig defended well.
For the million she contain'd
He contended, sword in hand,
Follow'd by as brave a band
Of tars, as ever, trod a deck.
He contended, sword in hand,
Follow'd by as brave a band
Of tars, as ever, trod a deck.
In these bloody barges, five,
Scarce a man was left alive,
And about the seas they drive;
Some were sunk, and some a wreck.
Scarce a man was left alive,
And about the seas they drive;
Some were sunk, and some a wreck.
Every effort that they made
With boarding pike, or carronade,
Every effort was repaid,
Scarcely with a parallel!
With boarding pike, or carronade,
Every effort was repaid,
Scarcely with a parallel!
Fortune, thus, upon the wave,
Crown'd the valor of the brave:—
Little lost, and much to save,
Had the prince of Neufchatel.
Crown'd the valor of the brave:—
Little lost, and much to save,
Had the prince of Neufchatel.