Chapter XVI: Part II: The First Poetic Period

1775--1781

THE FIRST POETIC PERIOD

1775-1781[A]

[A] In August, 1775, Freneau emerges from the obscurity which has
concealed him since the year of his graduation at Princeton,
and enters upon an era of marvelous productiveness. For four
months, poetry must have been his one thought, his one
occupation. It was during this period of his life that he
did his most spontaneous and original work.

A POLITICAL LITANY[60]

_Libera Nos, Domine._--Deliver us, O Lord, not only from British
dependence, but also

From a junto that labour with absolute power,
Whose schemes disappointed have made them look sour,
From the lords of the council, who fight against freedom,
Who still follow on where delusion[61] shall lead them.

From the group at St. James's, who slight our petitions,
And fools that are waiting for further submissions--
From a nation whose manners are rough and severe,
From scoundrels and rascals,--do keep us all clear.[62]

From pirates sent out by command of the king
To murder and plunder, but never to swing.
From Wallace and Greaves, and Vipers and Roses,[A]
Whom, if heaven pleases, we'll give bloody noses.

From the valiant Dunmore, with his crew of banditti,
Who plunder Virginians at Williamsburg city,[63]
From hot-headed Montague, mighty to swear,
The little fat man with his pretty white hair.[64]

From bishops in Britain, who butchers are grown,
From slaves that would die for a smile from the throne,
From assemblies that vote against Congress proceedings,
(Who now see the fruit of their stupid misleadings.)

From Tryon[65] the mighty, who flies from our city,
And swelled with importance disdains the committee:
(But since he is pleased to proclaim us his foes,
What the devil care we where the devil he goes.)

From the caitiff,[66] lord North, who would bind us in chains,
From a royal king Log, with his tooth-full of brains,
Who dreams, and is certain (when taking a nap)
He has conquered our lands, as they lay on his map.[67]

From a kingdom that bullies, and hectors, and swears,
We send up to heaven our wishes and prayers
That we, disunited, may freemen be still,
And Britain go on--to be damned if she will.

[A] Captains and ships in the British navy, then employed on the
American coast.--_Freneau's note._ During the summer of 1775,
Capt. Wallace and his vessel, the _Rose_, kept the American
coast cities in a state of constant terror. The colonial
newspapers show how widespread and real was this terror.

[60] The earliest trace I can find of this poem is in the 1786 edition of Freneau, where it is dated "New York, Sept. 26, 1775." In this edition, and in that of 1795, it had the title "Libera Nos, Domine." In the edition of 1809, which I have followed, it is dated "_New-York, June, 1775._" The earlier date is probably the date of publication.

[61] "The devil."--_Ed. 1786._

[62] "Whom gold can corrupt."--_Ed. 1786._

[63] Lord Dunmore was the last Royal Governor of Virginia. In April, 1775, he had removed the public stores from Williamsburg, and with the aid of the navy and what forces he could raise, was waging open war on the colonies.

[64] George Montagu, admiral of the British fleet during the early part of the war, did much to exasperate the colonists. "He stopped and searched vessels without adequate pretext, and fired at the market boats as they entered Newport harbor. He treated the farmers on the islands much as the Saracens in the Middle Ages treated the coast population of Italy." He was mild in appearance, but testy and arbitrary to an extraordinary degree. He covered the British retreat from Boston, aided Lord Dunmore to escape from Virginia, and took part in the capture of New York City.

[65] William Tryon, the last Royal Governor of New York, informed of a resolution of the Continental Congress: "That it be recommended to the several provincial assemblies, in conventions and councils or committees of safety, to arrest and secure every person in their respective colonies whose going at large may, in their opinion, endanger the safety of the colony or the liberties of America," discerning the signs of the times, took refuge on board the Halifax packet in the harbour, and left the city in the middle of October, 1775.--_Duyckinck._

[66] Scoundrel.--_Ed. 1786._

[67]

"From a dunce of a king who was born without brains,
The utmost extent of whose sense is to see
That reigning and making of buttons agree."--_Ed. 1786._

AMERICAN LIBERTY, A POEM[68]

ARGUMENT

Present Situation of Affairs in North-America.--Address to the
Deity.--Unhappy Situation of New-England, in particular.--The first
Emigrations of the Colonists from Europe.--Cruelties of the Indian
Natives.--All our Hopes of future Safety depend secondarily on our
present Resolution and Activity.--Impossible for British Soldiers
to join heartily for the purpose of enslaving us.--Present happy
Unanimity among the Colonies.--The Baseness of pensioned Writers
against their native Country.--General Gage's late
Proclamation.--The Odium consequent upon his Undertaking his
present Office.--Character of a weak Monarch.--Popery established
in Canada.--General Washington.--The Honourable Continental
Congress.--Hancock.--Adams.--Invitation to Foreigners to retire
hither from their respective Slavish Regions.--Bravery of the
New-England Forces in the late Engagements.--The determined
Resolution of the Colonies to be free.--The future Happiness of
America if she surmounts the present Difficulties.

Once more Bellona, forc'd upon the stage,
Inspires new fury, and awakes her rage,
From North to South her thun'dring trumpet spreads
Tumults, and war and death, and daring deeds.
What breast but kindles at the martial sound?
What heart but bleeds to feel its country's wound?
For thee, blest freedom, to protect thy sway,
We rush undaunted to the bloody fray;
For thee, each province arms its vig'rous host,
Content to die, e'er freedom shall be lost.
Kind watchful power, on whose supreme command
The fate of monarchs, empires, worlds depend,
Grant, in a cause thy wisdom must approve,
Undaunted valour kindled from above,
Let not our souls descend to dastard fear,
Be valour, prudence both united here,
Now as of old thy mighty arm display;
Relieve the opprest, and saving power convey.
'Tis done, and see th' omnipotent befriends,
The sword of Gideon, and of God descends.
Ah, see with grief fair Massachusetts' plains,
The seat of war, and death's terrific scenes;
Where darling peace with smiling aspect stood,
Lo! the grim soldier stalks in quest of blood:
What madness, heaven, has made Britannia frown?
Who plans our schemes to pull Columbia[A] down?
See Boston groan beneath the strong blockade,
Her freedom vanish'd, and destroy'd her trade;
Injur'd, opprest, no tyrant could exceed
The cruel vengeance of so base a deed.
New Albion's[B] sons whom honest freedom moves,
(My heart admires them, and my verse approves),
Tir'd of oppression in a Stuart's reign,
A Popish faction, ministerial train;
Bravely resolv'd to leave their native shore
And some new world, they knew not where, explore,
Far in the West, beyond where Poets said,
The Sun retir'd, and Cynthia went to bed.
Few then had seen the scarce discover'd Bourne,
From whence like death yet fewer did return:
Dire truths from thence the wand'ring sailor brought,
Enlarg'd by terror, and the power of thought,
With all the forms that pict'ring fancy gives,
With all the dread that in idea lives;
Fierce Cannibals that sought the blood of man,
Vast cruel tribes that through the desart ran,
Giants whose height transcends the tow'ring oak,
Brutes with whose screams the trembling forest shook,--
All these and more they held no cause of fear,
Since naught but slavery, dreadful could appear.
Ah, see the day, distressful to the view,
Wives, husbands, fathers, bid a long adieu.
Dear native land, how heav'd the heavy sigh,
When thy last mountains vanish'd on the eye;
Then their frail barks, just enter'd on the sea,
Pursu'd the long, uncomfortable way:
But pitying heav'n the just design surveys,
Sends prosp'rous gales, and wafts them o'er the seas.
Behold the shore; no rising cities there,
To hail them welcome from the sea appear,
In the wild woods the exil'd host were spread,
The heavens their covering, and the earth their bed:
What expectations but a life of woe?
Unnumber'd myriads of the savage foe,
Whose brutal fury rais'd, at once might sweep
The adventurers all to death's destructive sleep;
Yet 'midst this scene of horror and despair,
Stout industry began his office here,
Made forests bend beneath his sturdy stroke,
Made oxen groan beneath the sweaty yoke,
Till half the desart smil'd and look'd as gay
As northern gardens in the bloom of May.
But ah, review the sorrows interwove,
How the fierce native with the stranger strove;--
So heaven's bright lamp, the all-reviving sun,
Just as his flaming journey is begun,
Mists, fogs and vapours, sprung from damps of night,
Mount up and strive to dim the approach of light;
But he in triumph darts his piercing ray,
Scatters their forces and pursues his way.
Oft when the husband did his labour leave
To meet his little family at eve,
Stretch'd in their blood he saw each well known face,
His dear companion and his youthful race;
Perhaps the scalp with barbarous fury torn,
The visage mangled, and the babe unborn
Ripp'd from its dark abode, to view the sun,
Ere nature finish'd half she had begun.
And should we now when spread thro' ev'ry shore,
Submit to that our fathers shunn'd before?
Should we, just heaven, our blood and labour spent,
Be slaves and minions to a parliament?
Perish the thought, nor may one wretch remain,
Who dares not fight and in our cause be slain;
The cause of freedom daunts the hireling foe,
And gives each Sampson's strength toward the blow,
And each, like him whom fear nor force confines,
Destroys a thousand modern Philistines.
Who fights to take our liberty away,
Dead-hearted fights and falls an easy prey;
The cause, the cause, most cruel to enslave,
Disheartens thousands, and unmans the brave:
Who could have thought that Britons bore a heart,
Or British troops to act so base a part?
Britons of old renown'd, can they descend
T' enslave their brethren in a foreign land?
What oath, what oath, inform us if you can,
Binds them to act below the worth of man?
Can they whom half the world admires, can they
Be advocates for vile despotic sway?
Shall they, to every shore and clime renown'd,
Enforce those acts that tyranny did found?
'Yet sure if this be their resolv'd design,
'Conquer they shall where'er the sun doth shine;
'No expedition prov'd unhappy yet,
'Can we Havanna's bloody siege forget,[69]
'Where British cannon the strong fortress tore,
'And wing'd whole legions to its infernal shore.
'Or does the voice of fame so soon forego
'Gibraltar's action, and the vanquish'd foe,
'Where art and nature both at once combin'd
'To baffle all our hardy troops design'd?--
'Yet there Britannia's arms successful sped,
'While haughty Spaniards trembled, felt and fled.'
So say the pensioned fools of slavery,
So say our traitors, but so say not I--
(Tories or traitors, call them what you choose,
Tories are rogues, and traitors imps broke loose).
But know, ye few, the scandal of our land,
On whom returns the blood that we expend,
Those troops whose fears are told on every shore,
Here lose their spirit and are brave no more;
When armies fight to gain some cruel cause,
Establish tyrants or destructive laws,
True courage scorns to inspire the hateful crew,
Recall past fame, or spur them on to new;
Dark boding thoughts the heavy soul possess,
And ancient valour turns to cowardice.
Dark was the prospect, gloomy was the scene,
When traitors join'd to break our union chain:
But soon, by heaven inspir'd, arose the cry,
Freedom or death, unite, unite or die.
Now far and wide a manly spirit reigns,
From Canada to Georgia's sun burnt plains;
Few now insult with falsehood's shameless pen.
Monsters from Tophet, driv'n in shapes of men:
Few pension'd scribblers left the daring head,
Some have turn'd lunatics and some have fled--
Some, late converted, scarce their pensions hold.
And from mere force disdain the charms of gold.
What deep offence has fir'd a monarch's rage,
What moonstruck madness seized the brain of Gage?
Laughs not the soul, when an imprison'd few
Affect to pardon those they can't subdue?
Tho' twice repuls'd and hemm'd up to their stations,
Yet issue pardons, oaths, and proclamations,
As if at sea some desperate madman crew
Should threat the tempest with what they could do,
And like proud Xerxes lash the angry waves,
At the same instant that they find their graves.
But not the pomps and favours of a crown,
A nation's anger, or a statesman's frown,
Could draw the virtuous man from virtue's way,
To chain by force what treach'ry can't betray.
Virtue disdains to own tyrannic laws,
Takes part with freedom, and assumes its cause;
No part had she, her fiercest forces own,
To bring so far this heavy vengeance on;
She stood with Romans while their hearts were true,
And so she shall, Americans, with you.
Should heaven in wrath decree some nation's fall,
Whose crimes from thence for sacred vengeance call,
A monarch first of vulgar soul should rise,
A sure fore-runner of its obsequies,
Whose heart should glow with not one gen'rous thought,
Born to oppress, to propagate, and rot.
Whose lengthen'd reign no deed of worth should grace,
None trusted but a servile pensioned race;
Too dull to know what saving course to take,
That heaven in time its purpose might forsake,
Too obstinately will'd to bow his ear
To groaning thousands or petitions hear,
Dare break all oaths that bind the just like fate,
Oaths, that th' Arch-Devil would blush to violate,
And, foe to truth, both oaths and honour sell,
To establish principles, the growth of hell,--
Still those who aim to be his truest friends,
Traitors, insidious rebels, madmen, fiends,
Hoodwink'd and blind, deceived by secret foes,
Whose fathers once with exil'd tyrants rose,
Bless'd with as little sense as God e'er gave,
Slave to wrong schemes, dupe to a noble knave.
So odd a monarch heaven in wrath would plan,
And such would be the fury of a man.
See far and wide o'er long Canadia's plains,
Old popish fraud and superstition reigns;
The scarlet whore long hath heaven withstood,
Who cries for murder and who thirsts for blood,
Establish'd there, marks down each destined name,
And plants the stake impatient for the flame,
With sanguinary soul her trade begins,
To doom her foes to hell or pardon sins;
Her crafty priests their impious rites maintain,
And crucify their Saviour once again;
Defend his rights, who, scatt'ring lies abroad,
With shameless front usurps the seat of God:
Those are, we fear, who his vile cause assert,
But half reform'd and papists at the heart.
Bear me, some power, as far as the winds can blow,
As ships can travel, or as waves can flow,
To some lone island beyond the southern pole,
Or lands round which pacific waters roll,
There should oblivion stop the heaving sigh,
There should I live at least with liberty.
But honour checks my speed and bids me stay,
To try the fortune of the well fought day.
Resentment for my country's fate I bear,
And mix with thousands for the willing war;
See Washington New Albion's freedom owns,
And moves to war with half Virginia's sons,
Bold in the fight, whose actions might have aw'd
A Roman Hero, or a Grecian God.
He, he, as first his gallant troops shall lead,
Undaunted man, a second Diomede;
As when he fought at wild Ohio's flood,
When savage thousands issu'd from the wood,
When Braddock's fall disgrac'd the mighty day,
And Death himself stood weeping o'er his prey,
When doubting vict'ry chang'd from side to side,
And Indian sod with Indian blood was dy'd,
When the last charge repuls'd th' invenom'd foe,
And lightnings lit them to the shades below.
See where from various distant climes unites
A generous council to protect our rights,
Fix'd on a base too steadfast to be mov'd,
Loving their country, by their country lov'd,
Great guardians of our freedom, we pursue
Each patriot measure as inspir'd by you,
Columbia, nor shall fame deny it owes
Past safety to the counsel you propose;
And if they do not keep Columbia free,
What will alas! become of Liberty?
Great souls grow bolder in their country's cause,
Detest enslavers, and despise their laws.
O Congress fam'd, accept this humble lay,
The little tribute that the muse can pay;
On you depends Columbia's future fate,
A free asylum or a wretched state.
Fall'n on disastrous times we push our plea,
Heard or not heard, and struggle to be free.
Born to contend, our lives we place at stake,
And grow immortal by the stand we make.
O you, who, far from liberty detain'd,
Wear out existence in some slavish land,
Fly thence from tyrants, and their flatt'ring throng,
And bring the fiery freeborn soul along.
Neptune for you shall smooth the hoary deep,
And awe the wild tumultuous waves to sleep;
Here vernal woods, and flow'ry meadows blow,
Luxuriant harvests in rich plenty grow,
Commerce extends as far as waves can roll,
And freedom, God-like freedom, crowns the whole.
And you, brave men, who scorn the dread of death,
Resolv'd to conquer to the latest breath,
Soldiers in act, and heroes in renown,
Warm in the cause of Boston's hapless town,
Still guard each pass; like ancient Romans, you
At once are soldiers, and are farmers too;
Still arm impatient for the vengeful blow,
And rush intrepid on the yielding foe;
As when of late midst clouds of fire and smoke,
Whole squadrons fell, or to the center shook,
And even the bravest to your arm gave way,
And death, exulting, ey'd the unhappy fray.
Behold, your Warren bleeds, who both inspir'd
To noble deeds, and by his actions fir'd;
What pity, heaven!--but you who yet remain
Affect his spirit as you lov'd the man:
Once more, and yet once more for freedom strive,
To be a slave what wretch would dare to live?
We too to the last drop our blood will drain,
And not till then shall hated slavery reign,
When every effort, every hope is o'er,
And lost Columbia swells our breasts no more.
O if that day, which heaven avert, must come,
And fathers, husbands, children, meet their doom,
Let one brave onset yet that doom precede,
To shew the world America can bleed,
One thund'ring raise the midnight cry,
And one last flame send Boston to the sky.
But cease, foreboding Muse, not strive to see
Dark times deriv'd by fatal destiny;
If ever heaven befriended the distrest,
If ever valour succour'd those opprest,
Let America rejoice, thy standard rear,
Let the loud trumpet animate to war:
Thy guardian Genius, haste thee on thy way,
To strike whole hosts with terror and dismay.
Happy some land, which all for freedom gave,
Happier the men whom their own virtues save;
Thrice happy we who long attacks have stood,
And swam to Liberty thro' seas of blood;
The time shall come when strangers rule no more,
Nor cruel mandates vex from Britain's shore;
When Commerce shall extend her short'ned wing,
And her free freights from every climate bring;
When mighty towns shall flourish free and great,
Vast their dominion, opulent their state;
When one vast cultivated region teems,
From ocean's edge to Mississippi's streams;
While each enjoys his vineyard's peaceful shade,
And even the meanest has no cause to dread;
Such is the life our foes with envy see,
Such is the godlike glory to be free.

[A] Columbia, America sometimes so called from Columbus, the
first discoverer.--_Freneau's note._

[B] New Albion, properly New England, but is often applied to
all British America.--_Freneau's note._

[68] This was published by Anderson in 1775. In Holt's _New York Journal_ of July 6, it is advertised as just published. The advertisement observes that "This poem is humbly addressed to all true lovers of this once flourishing country, whether they shine as soldiers or statesmen. In it Ciceronian eloquence and patriotic fire are happily blended." The poet never reprinted it. The only copy of the poem extant, as far as I can discover, is that in the Library of Congress at Washington.

[69] Of the siege of Havana, in July, 1762, Bancroft writes: "This siege was conducted in midsummer, against a city which lies just within the tropic. The country around the Moro Castle is rocky. To bind and carry the fascines was of itself a work of incredible labor;... sufficient earth to hold the fascines firm was gathered with difficulty from the crevices of the rocks. Once, after a drought of fourteen days, the grand battery took fire from the flames, and crackling and spreading where water could not follow it, nor earth stifle it, was wholly consumed. The climate spoiled a great part of the provisions. Wanting good water, many died in agonies of thirst. More fell victims of a putrid fever.... Hundreds of carcasses floated on the ocean. And yet such was the enthusiasm of the English, such the resolute zeal of the sailors and soldiers, such the unity of action between the fleet and army, that the vertical sun of June and July, the heavy rains of August, raging fever, and strong and well defended fortresses, all the obstacles of nature and art were surmounted, and the most decisive victory of the war was gained."

GENERAL GAGE'S SOLILOQUY[70]

_Scene._--Boston, besieged by the Men of Massachusetts

Written and published in New-York, 1775

Why, let the stricken deer go weep,
The hart, unwounded, play,
For some must write, while some must speak;
So runs the world away!
_--Shakespeare._

Destruction waits my call!--some demon say
Why does destruction linger on her way!
Charlestown is burnt, and Warren is deceased--
Heavens! shall we never be from war released?
Ten years the Greeks besieged the walls of Troy,
But when did Grecians their own towns destroy?
Yes, that's the point!--Let those who will, say, No;
If George and North decree--it must be so.
Doubts, black as night, disturb my loved repose--
Men that were once my friends have turned my foes--
What if we conquer this rebellious town,
Suppose we burn it, storm it, tear it down--
This land's like Hydra, cut off but one head,
And ten shall rise, and dare you in its stead.
If to subdue a league or two of coast
Requires a navy, and so large a host,
How shall a length of twice seven hundred miles
Be brought to bend to two European Isles?--
And that, when all their utmost strength unite,
When twelve[A] dominions swear to arm and fight,
When the same spirit darts from every eye,
One fixed resolve to gain their point or die.
As for myself--true--I was born to fight
As George commands, let him be wrong or right,
While from his hand I squeeze the golden prize,[71]
I'll ask no questions, and he'll tell no lies;--
But did I swear, I ask my heart again,
In their base projects monarchs to maintain?--[72]
Yes--when Rebellion her artillery brings
And aims her arrows at the best of kings,
I stand a champion in my monarch's cause--
The men are rebels that resist his laws.[73]
A viceroy I, like modern monarchs, stay
Safe in the town--let others guide the fray:
A life like mine is of no common worth,
'Twere wrong, by heaven, that I should sally forth![74]
A random bullet from a rifle sent
Might pierce my heart, and ruin North's intent:
Let others combat in the dusty field,
Let petty captains scorn to live or yield,
I'll send my ships to neighbouring isles, where stray[75]
Unnumb'red herds, and steal those herds away;
I'll strike the women in this town with awe,
And make them tremble at my martial law.
Should gracious heaven befriend our troops and fleet,
And throw this vast dominion at my feet,
How would Britannia echo with my fame!
What endless honours would await my name!
In every province should the traveller see
Recording marble, raised to honour me.--[76]
Hard by the lakes, my sovereign lord would grant
A rural empire to supply my want,
A manor would but poorly serve my turn,
Less than an empire from my soul I scorn![77]
An ample kingdom round Ontario's lake,
By heaven! should be the least reward I'd take.
There might I reign, unrivalled and alone,
An ocean and an empire of my own!--
What though the scribblers and the wits might say,
He built his pile on vanquished Liberty--
Let others meanly dread the slanderous tongue,
While I obey my king, can I do wrong?
Then, to accomplish all my soul's desire,
Let red-hot bullets set their towns on fire;
May heaven, if so the righteous judgment pass,[78]
Change earth to steel, the sky to solid brass,
Let hosts combined, from Europe centering here,[79]
Strike this base offspring with alarm and fear;
Let heaven's broad concave to the center ring,
And blackest night expand her sable wing,
The infernal powers in dusky combat join,
Wing the swift ball, or spring the deadly mine;
(Since 'tis most true, tho' some may think it odd,
The foes of England are the foes of God):
Let bombs, like comets, kindle all the air,
Let cruel famine prompt the orphan's prayer,
And every ill that war or want can bring
Be shower'd on subjects that renounce their king.
What is their plea?--our sovereign only meant
This people should be taxed without consent,
Ten years the court with secret cunning tried
To gain this point--the event their hopes belied:
How should they else than sometimes miss the mark
Who sleep at helm, yet think to steer the barque?
North, take advice; thy lucky genius show,
Dispatch Sir Jeffery[B] to the states below.
That gloomy prince, whom mortals Satan call,[80]
Must help us quickly, if he help at all--
You strive in vain by force of bribes to tie;
They see through all your schemes with half an eye;
If open force with secret bribes I join,
The contest sickens--and the day is mine.
But hark the trumpet's clangor--hark--ah me!
What means this march of Washington and Lee?
When men like these such distant marches make,
Fate whispers something--that we can't mistake;[81]
When men like these defy my martial rule,
Good heaven! it is no time to play the fool--
Perhaps, they for their country's freedom rise;
North has, perhaps, deceived me with his lies.--
If George at last a tyrant should be found,
A cruel tyrant, by no sanctions bound,
And I, myself, in an unrighteous cause,
Be sent to execute the worst of laws,
How will those dead whom I conjured to fight--
Who sunk in arms to everlasting night,
Whose blood the conquering foe conspired to spill
At Lexington and Bunker's fatal hill,
Whose mangled corpses scanty graves embrace--
Rise from those graves, and curse me to my face!--
Alas! that e'er ambition bade me roam,
Or thirst of power, forsake my native home--
What shall I do?--there, crowd the hostile bands;
Here, waits a navy to receive commands;--
I speak the language of my heart--shall I
Steal off by night, and o'er the ocean fly,
Like a lost man to unknown regions stray,
And to oblivion leave this stormy day?--[82]
Or shall I to Britannia's shores again,
And big with lies, conceal my thousands slain?--
Yes--to some distant clime[83] my course I steer,
To any country rather than be here,
To worlds where reason scarce exerts her law,[84]
A branch-built cottage, and a bed of straw.--
Even Scotland's coast seems charming in my sight,
And frozen Zembla yields a strange delight.--
But such vexations in my bosom burn,
That to these shores I never will return,
'Till fruits and flowers on Greenland's coast be known,
And frosts are thawed in climates once their own.
Ye souls of fire, who burn for chief command,
Come! take my place in this disastrous land;
To wars like these I bid a long good-night--
Let North and George themselves such battles fight.

[A] Georgia had not at this time acceded to the Union of
the Thirteen States.--_Freneau's note._

[B] Sir Jeffery Amherst, who about this time refused to act
against the Colonial cause.--_Freneau's note._

[70] From the edition of 1809. The original edition, which consisted of 114 lines, was first published in New York, by H. Gaine, in August, 1775. The poem was thus written and published in the early days of the siege.

General Gage, the last royal governor of Massachusetts, arrived in Boston May, 1774, and remained until October, 1775, when he was succeeded by Major General Howe. The siege of Boston began with the arrival of Washington before the city, early in July, 1775, and continued until Howe was forced to evacuate the city, the following March. Gage's incompetency was admitted even by his own countrymen. He was narrow-minded, and prejudiced, and unable to estimate justly the forces that were against him. His only argument was force and dictatorial interference.

[71] This and the following line not in edition of 1775.

[72] To fight for Britons against Englishmen.--_Ed. 1775._

In such damn'd service to harass my brain.--_Ed. 1786._

[73] Four lines of the original edition omitted:

"North take advice, thy lucky genius show,
Dismiss a legate to the world below,
Sir Belzebub, for aid like thine we sue,
Send up the damned and let them help me too."

[74]

A life like mine is of such mighty worth,
I'll wrong my king if I should sally forth.

[75] This and the following line is not in edition of 1775.

[76] Some trophy of my tedious victory.--_Ed. 1775._

[77] The Lordship of a manor I would scorn.--_Ed. 1775._

[78] In place of the next eight lines, the edition of 1775 has the following:

"Let heaven's broad concave to the center ring,
And Imps from hell their swifter vengeance wing;
May heaven, if so the righteous judgment pass,
Change earth to steel, the sky to solid brass."

[79] Let hell-cats darting from some blackguard sphere.--_Ed. 1786._

[80] This and the four following lines not found in the edition of 1775.

[81] It shows they think their freedom lies at stake.--_Ed. 1775._

[82] In the original edition these two lines read as follows:

"Like Captain Cook to Southern islands stray,
And take new kings and kingdoms in my way."

[83] "Foreign clime."--_Ed. 1775._ "Negro clime."--_Ed. 1786._

[84] This line, and the nine following, are not found in the edition of 1775.

THE MIDNIGHT CONSULTATIONS;[85]

OR, A TRIP TO BOSTON

First published in 1775

Small bliss is theirs whom Fate's too heavy hand
Confines through life to some small square of land;
More wretched they whom heaven inspires to roam,
Yet languish out their lives and die at home.
Heaven gave to man this wide extended round, 5
No climes confine him and no oceans bound;
Heaven gave him forest, mountain, vale, and plain,
And bade him vanquish, if he could, the main;
But sordid cares our short-lived race confine,
Some toil at trades, some labour in the mine, 10
The miser hoards, and guards his shining store,
The sun still rises where he rose before--
No happier scenes his earth-born fancy fill
Than one dark valley, or one well-known hill.
To other shores his mind, untaught to stray, 15
Dull and inactive, slumbers life away.
But by the aid of yonder glimmering beam
The pole star, faithful to my vagrant dream,
Wild regent of my heart! in dreams convey
Where the herded Britons their bold ranks display; 20
So late the pride of England's fertile soil,
(Her grandeur heightened by successive toil)
See how they sicken in these hostile climes,
Themes for the stage, and subjects for our rhimes.
What modern poet have the muses led 25
To draw the curtain that conceals the dead?
What bolder bard to Boston shall repair,
To view the peevish, half-starved spectres there?
O thou wronged country! why sustain these ills?
Why rest thy navies on their native hills? 30
See, endless forests shade the uncultured plain,
Descend, ye forests, and command the main:
A leafy verdure shades the mighty mast,
And the tall oak bends idly to the blast,
Earth's entrails teem with stores for your defence, 35
Descend and drag the stores of war from thence:
Your fertile soil the flowing sail supplies,
And Europe's arts in every village rise--
No want is yours--Disdain unmanly fear,
And swear no tyrant shall reign master here; 40
Know your own strength--in rocky desarts bred,
Shall the fierce tiger by the dog be led,
And bear all insults from that snarling race
Whose courage lies in impudence of face?--
No--rather bid the wood's wild native turn, 45
And from his side the unfaithful guardian spurn.
Now, pleased I wander to the dome of state
Where Gage resides, our western potentate--
Chief of ten thousand, all a race of slaves,[86]
Sent to be shrouded in untimely graves;[87] 50
Sent by our angry Jove, sent sword in hand
To murder, burn, and ravage through the land.--
You dream of conquest--tell me how or whence--
Act like a man, and get you gone from hence;
A madman sent you to this hostile shore 55
To vanquish nations, that shall spill your gore.--
Go, fiends, and in a social league combined
Destroy, distress, and triumph o'er mankind!--
Tis not our peace this murdering hand restrains,
The want of power is made the monster's chains; 60
Compassion is a stranger to his heart,
Or if it came, he bade the guest depart;
The melting tear, the sympathising groan
Were never yet to Gage or Jefferies[A] known;
The seas of blood his heart fore-dooms to spill 65
Is but a dying serpent's rage to kill.
What power shall drive these vipers from our shore,
These monsters swoln with carnage, death, and gore!
Twelve was the hour--congenial darkness reigned,
And no bright star a mimic day-light feigned-- 70
First, Gage we saw--a crimson chair of state
Received the honour of his Honour's weight;
This man of straw the regal purple bound,
But dullness, deepest dullness, hovered round.
Next Graves, who wields the trident of the brine, 75
The tall arch-captain of the embattled line,
All gloomy sate--mumbling of flame and fire,
Balls, cannon, ships, and all their damned attire;
Well pleased to live in never-ending hum,
But empty as the interior of his drum. 80
Hard by, Burgoyne assumes an ample space,
And seemed to meditate with studious face,
As if again he wished our world to see
Long, dull, dry letters, writ to General Lee--
Huge scrawls of words through endless circuits drawn 85
Unmeaning as the errand he's upon.--
Is he to conquer--he subdue our land?--
This buckram hero, with his lady's hand?
By Cesars to be vanquished is a curse,
But by a scribbling fop--by heaven, is worse![88] 90
Lord Piercy seemed to snore--but may the Muse
This ill-timed snoring to the peer excuse;
Tired was the long boy of his toilsome day,
Full fifteen miles he fled--a tedious way;
How could he then the dews of Somnus shun, 95
Perhaps not used to walk--much less to run.
Red-faced as suns, when sinking to repose,
Reclined the infernal captain of the _Rose_,[B]
In fame's proud temple aiming for a niche,
With those who find her at the cannon's breech; 100
Skilled to direct the cannonading shot,
No Turkish rover half so murdering hot,
Pleased with base vengeance on defenceless towns,
His heart was malice--but his words were, Zounds!
Howe, vexed to see his starving army's doom, 105
In prayer, besought the skies for elbow room--[89]
Small was his stock, and theirs, of heavenly grace,
Yet just enough to ask a larger place.--
He cursed the brainless minister that planned
His bootless errand to this hostile land, 110
But, awed by Gage, his bursting wrath recoiled,
And in his inmost bosom doubly boiled.
These, chief of all the tyrant-serving train,
Exalted sate--the rest (a pensioned clan),
A sample of the multitude that wait, 115
Pale sons of famine, at perdition's gate,
North's friends down swarming (so our monarch wills),
Hungry as death, from Caledonian hills;
Whose endless numbers if you bid me tell,
I'll count the atoms of this globe as well,-- 120
Knights, captains, 'squires--a wonder-working band,
Held at small wages 'till they gain the land,
Flocked pensive round--black spleen assailed their hearts,
(The sport of plough-boys, with their arms and arts)
And made them doubt (howe'er for vengeance hot) 125
Whether they were invincible or not.
Now Gage upstarting from his cushioned seat
Swore thrice, and cried--"'Tis nonsense to be beat!
Thus to be drubbed! pray, warriors, let me know
Which be in fault, myself, the fates, or you-- 130
Henceforth let Britain deem her men mere toys--
Gods! to be frightened thus by country boys;
Why, if your men had had a mind to sup,
They might have eat that scare-crow[90] army up--
Three thousand to twelve hundred thus to yield, 135
And twice five hundred stretched upon the field!--[91]
O shame to Britain, and the British name,
Shame damps my heart, and I must die with shame--
Thus to be worsted, thus disgraced and beat!--
You have the knack, Lord Piercy,[92] to retreat, 140
The death you escaped my warmest blood congeals,
Heaven grant me, too, so swift a pair of heels--[93]
In Chevy-Chace, as, doubtless, you have read,
Lord Piercy would have sooner died than fled--
Behold the virtues of your house decay-- 145
Ah! how unlike the Piercy of that day!"
Thus spoke the great man in disdainful tone
To the gay peer--not meant for him alone--
But ere the tumults of his bosom rise
Thus from his bench the intrepid peer replies: 150
"When once the soul has reached the Stygian shore,
My prayer book says, it shall return no more--
When once old Charon hoists his tar-blacked sail,
And his boat swims before the infernal gale,
Farewell to all that pleased the man above, 155
Farewell to feats of arms, and joys of love!
Farewell the trade that father Cain began,
Farewell to wine, that cheers the heart of man;
All, all farewell!--the pensive shade must go
Where cold Medusa turns to stone below, 160
Where Belus' maids eternal labours ply
To drench the cask that stays forever dry,
And Sysiphus, with many a weary groan,
Heaves up the mount the still recoiling stone!
"Since, then, this truth no mortal dares deny, 165
That heroes, kings--and lords, themselves, must die,
And yield to him who dreads no hostile sword,
But treats alike the peasant and the lord;
Since even great George must in his turn give place
And leave his crown, his Scotchmen, and his lace,-- 170
How blest is he, how prudent is the man
Who keeps aloof from fate--while yet he can;
One well-aimed ball can make us all no more
Than shipwrecked scoundrels on that leeward shore.
"But why, my friends, these hard reflections still 175
On Lexington affairs--'tis Bunker's hill--
O fatal hill!--one glance at thee restrains
My once warm blood, and chills it in my veins--
May no sweet grass adorn thy hateful crest
That saw Britannia's bravest troops distrest-- 180
Or if it does--may some destructive gale
The green leaf wither, and the grass turn pale--
All moisture to your brow may heaven deny,
And God and man detest you, just as I;--
'Tis Bunker's hill, this night has brought us here, 185
Pray question him who led your armies there,
Nor dare my courage into question call,
Or blame Lord Piercy for the fault of all."
Howe chanced to nod while heathenish Piercy spoke,
But as his Lordship ceased, his Honour awoke, 190
(Like those whom sermons into sleep betray)
Then rubbed his eyes, and thus was heard to say:
"Shall those who never ventured from the town,
Or their ships' sides, now pull our glory down?
We fought our best--so God my honour save!-- 195
No British soldiers ever fought so brave--
Resolved I led them to the hostile lines,
(From this day famed where'er great Phoebus shines)
Firm at their head I took my dangerous stand,
Marching to death and slaughter, sword in hand, 200
But wonted Fortune halted on her way,
We fought with madmen, and we lost the day--
Putnam's brave troops, your honours would have swore
Had robbed the clouds of half their nitrous store,
With my bold veterans strewed the astonished plain, 205
For not one musquet was discharged in vain.--
But, honoured Gage, why droops thy laurelled head?--
Five hundred foes we packed off to the dead.--[94]
Now captains, generals, hear me and attend!
Say, shall we home for other succours send? 210
Shall other navies cross the stormy main?--
They may, but what shall awe the pride of Spain?
Still for dominion haughty Louis pants--
Ah! how I tremble at the thoughts of France.--
Shall mighty George, to enforce his injured laws, 215
Transport all Russia to support the cause?--
That allied empire countless shoals may pour
Numerous as sands that strew the Atlantic shore;
But policy inclines my heart to fear
They'll turn their arms against us when they're here-- 220
Come, let's agree--for something must be done
Ere autumn flies, and winter hastens on--
When pinching cold our navy binds in ice,
You'll find 'tis then too late to take advice."
The clock strikes two!--Gage smote upon his breast, 225
And cried,--"What fate determines, must be best--
But now attend--a counsel I impart
That long has laid the heaviest at my heart--
Three weeks--ye gods!--nay, three long years it seems
Since roast-beef I have touched except in dreams. 230
In sleep, choice dishes to my view repair,
Waking, I gape and champ the empty air.--
Say, is it just that I, who rule these bands,
Should live on husks, like rakes in foreign lands?--[95]
Come, let us plan some project ere we sleep, 235
And drink destruction to the rebel sheep.
"On neighbouring isles uncounted cattle stray,
Fat beeves and swine, an ill-defended prey--
These are fit visions for my noon day dish,
These, if my soldiers act as I would wish, 240
In one short week should glad your maws and mine;
On mutton we will sup--on roast beef dine."
Shouts of applause re-echoed through the hall,
And what pleased one as surely pleased them all;
Wallace was named to execute the plan, 245
And thus sheep-stealing pleased them to a man.
Now slumbers stole upon the great man's eye,
His powdered foretop nodded from on high,
His lids just opened to find how matters were,
Dissolve, he said, and so dissolved ye are, 250
Then downward sunk to slumbers dark and deep,--
Each nerve relaxed--and even his guts asleep.[96]

[A] An inhuman, butchering English judge in the time of Charles
the first.--_Freneau's note._

[B] Capt. Wallace.--_Freneau's note._ Sir James Wallace was a
prominent naval officer during the Revolution. In 1774-5 he
commanded the _Rose,_ a 20-gun frigate, and greatly annoyed
the people of Rhode Island by his detention of shipping and
his seizure of private property. His severity and activity
made him greatly detested by the colonists during the entire
Revolution.