The Poems of Philip Freneau, Poet of the American Revolution. Volume 1 (of 3)

Here follow lines 72-131 above, with the following variations: line 75, "trident of the sea"; 76, "of artillery"; 79, "everlasting hum"; 80, "But senseless as the echo of a drum"; 81, "his ample chair supplies"; 82, "in studious guise"; 83, "to grant the world to see"; 87-90,

"His arm and pen of equal strength we call,This kills with dullness, just like that with hall."

91, "O conscious muse"; 93, "the Hero"; 95, "How should"; 97, "as Sol descending to repose"; 98, "the furious Captain"; 100, "'mongst those who find it"; 104, "His forked tongue hiss'd nothing else but Zounds!"; 105, "his army's fatal doom"; 106, "Ceas'd to beseech"; 107-108,

"(How could the skies refuse the pious manWhen half the pray'r was blood! and death! and damn!)"

110, "sleeveless errand to a distant land"; 113, "the Pandemonian crew"; 114, "a pension'd few"; 116, "In dreams of Indian gold and Indian state;" 118, "hungry as hell"; 121, "a secondary band"; 123, "assail'd the crowd"; 124, "Black as the horrors of a wintry cloud"; 125, "for doubts had place to grow"; 126, "or no"; 127-131,

Gage starts, rebounding from his ample seat,Swears thrice, and cries – "Ye furies, are we beat?Thrice are we drubb'd? – Pray gentles let me know,Whether it be the fault of fate or you?"He ceas'd, the anger flash'd from both his eyes,While Percy to his query thus replies, —"Let gods and men attest the words I say,Our soldiers flinch'd not from the dubious fray,Had each a head of tempered steel possest,A heart of brass, and admantine breast,More courage ne'er had urg'd them to the fray,More true-born valour made them scorn dismay.""Whoe'er," said Greaves, "their cowardice denies,Or Lord, or Knight, or 'Squire. I say he lies:How could the wretches help but marching on,When at their backs your swords were ready drawn,To pierce the man that flinch'd a single pace,From all hell's light'ning blazing in his face?Death on my life! My Lord, had I been there,I'd sent New-England's army thro' the air,Wrench'd their black hearts from this infernal brood,And turn'd their streams to Oliverian blood.

Here follow lines 131-200 above, with the following variations: 131, "but toys"; 132, "to be conquer'd thus"; 134, "this play-thing army"; 135, "Five thousand to five hundred"; 136, "And fourteen hundred"; 139, "Indeed," cries Gage, "'tis twice we have been beat"; 141, "You 'scap'd my very blood"; 147, "So spoke the Hero"; 148, "The brilliant Peer replies"; 149, 150, not in the original version; 151, "old Styx's shore"; 153, "his sable sail"; 154, "the lazy gale"; 157, "Farewell Quadrille, that helps out life's short span"; following 158,

"Farewell my steeds that stretch across the plain,More swift than navies bounding o'er the main."

160, "dull Medusa"; 163, 164, not in original version; 165-168,

"Since then, this truth is by mankind confess'd,That ev'ry Lord must yet be Pluto's guest."

170, "And leave his coursers starting for the race"; 172, "aloof from Styx"; 174, "Than leaky vessels;" 177, "thy ghastly sight restrains;" following 178,

"May no gay flowers or vernal blooming treeScent thy vile air or shade the face of thee!"

180, "nodded o'er Britannia's troops"; 183, "to your breast"; 185, "has fix'd us here"; 186, "Pray query"; 189, "fluent Percy"; 194, "our conduct down"; 196, "more brave"; 199, "my bloody stand." In place of lines 201-208, the 1775 version has the following:

'Till met the strength of each opposing force,Like blazing-stars in their etherial courseThat all on fire with rapid swiftness fly,Then clash and shake the concave of the sky.Twice we gave way, twice shunn'd the infernal rout,And twice you would have cry'd all hell's broke out.They fought like those who press for death's embrace,And laugh the grizly monarch in the face.Putnam's brave troops, your honor would have swore,Had robb'd the clouds of half their sulph'rous store,Call'd thunder down whence Jove his vengeance spreads,And drove it mix'd with lightning on our heads!What tho' Cop's-hill its black artillery play'd,Clouding the plains in worse than Stygian shade;Tho' floating batteries rais'd their dismal roar,Tho' all the navy bellow'd from the shore,They roar'd in vain, death claim'd from them no share,But helpless, spent their force in empty air.Alas! what scenes of slaughter I beheld,What sudden carnage flush'd the glutted field!Heaven gave the foe to thin my warlike train,For not a musket was discharg'd in vain;Yes, that short hour, while heaven forbore to smile,Made many widows in Britannia's isle,And shewing all what power supreme can do,Gave many orphans to those widows too.But Gage arouse, come lift thy languid head,Full fifty foes we pack'd off to the dead:Who feeling death, from their hot posts, withdrew,And Warren with the discontented crew —Blest be the hand that laid his head so low,Not fifty common deaths could please me so —But to be short, so quick our men came in,The hostile army was so very thin;We fix'd our bay'nets and resum'd the fray,Then forc'd their lines and made the dogs give way."Next rose Burgoyne and rais'd his brazen voice,And cry'd, "We have no reason to rejoice.Warren is dead – in that we all agree,Not fate itself is half so fix'd as he;But my suspecting heart bids me foredoomA thousand Warrens rising in his room —Heaven knows I left my native country's air,In full belief of things that never were;Deceiv'd by Grant, I've sail'd thus far in vain,And like a fool may now sail back again —Grant call'd them cowards – curse the stupid ass,Their sides are Iron and their hearts are brass —Cowards he said, and lest that should not do,He pawn'd his oath and swore that they were so:O, were he here, I'd make him change his note,Disgorge his lie or cut the rascal's throat.

Here follow lines 209-252 above, with the following variations: 209, "But Captains"; 213, 214, not in original version; 215, "to make his law obey'd"; 216, "ten thousand Russians to our aid"; 218, "form the ocean shore"; 219, "commands my heart"; 225, "strikes three"; 230, "I've eat no fresh provision, but in dreams"; 231, "to my eyes"; 232, "and chew"; 235, "hold a council"; 236, "some consultation how to filch their sheep"; 237, "Unnumbered cattle"; 238, "sheep an undefended prey"; 239, "fit victims"; 240, "if the Gods would act"; 241, "shall glad your hearts"; 242, "on beef we'll dine"; 247, "the chieftain's eye"; 251, 252, "to dullest slumbers deep, And in his arms embrac'd the powers of sleep."

In Boston's southern end there stands a treeLong sacred held to darling Liberty;Its branching arms with verdant leaves were crown'd,Imparting shade and grateful coolness round:To its fam'd trunk, invisible as air,I from the sleepy council did repair.And at its root, fair Freedom's shrine, I paidMy warmest vows, and blest the virtuous shade.Now shin'd the gay fac'd sun with morning light.All Nature joy'd exulting at the sight,When swift as wind, to vent their base-born rage,The Tory Williams[b] and the Butcher GageRush'd to the tree, a nameless number near,Tories and Negroes following in the rear —Each, axe in hand, attack'd the honour'd tree,Swearing eternal war with Liberty;Nor ceas'd their strokes, 'till each repeated woundTumbled its honours headlong to the ground;But e'er it fell, not mindless of its wrong,Aveng'd it took one destin'd head along.A Tory soldier on its topmost limb —The Genius of the shade look'd stern at him,And mark'd him out that self same hour to dine,Where unsnuff'd lamps burn low at Pluto's shrine,Then tripp'd his feet from off their cautious stand;Pale turn'd the wretch – he spread each helpless hand,But spread in vain, with headlong force he fell,Nor stopp'd descending 'till he stopp'd in Hell.Next, curious to explore, I wander'd whereOur injur'd countrymen imprison'd are,Some closely coop'd in the unwelcome town;Some in dark dungeons held ignobly down;Gage holds them there, and all recess denies,For 'tis in these the coward's safety lies;Were these once out, how would our troops consignEach licens'd robber to the gulphy brine,Or drive them foaming to the ships for aid,To beg of stormy Greaves to cannonade,And midnight vengeance point, like Vandeput,Voiding his hell-hounds to their devilish glut.A deed like that the muse must blush to name,And bids me stamp a coward on thy fame;Rage, ruffian, rage, nor lay thy thunder down,'Till all our Tories howl and flee the town.What is a Tory? Heavens and earth reveal!What strange blind monster does that name conceal?There! there he stands – for Augury prepare,Come lay his heart and inmost entrails bare,I, by the forelock, seize the Stygian hound;You bind his arms and bind the dragon down.Surgeon, attend with thy dissecting knife,Aim well the stroke that damps the springs of life,Extract his fangs, dislodge his teeth of prey,Clap in your pincers, and then tear away. —Soldier, stand by, the monster may resist.You draw your back-sword, and I'll draw my fist.Lo! mixt with air his worthless ghost has fled;Surgeon, his paleness speaks the monster dead;Part, part the sutures of his brazen scull,Hard as a rock, impenetrably dull.Hold out his brain, and let his brethren seeThat tortoise brain, no larger than a pea —Come, rake his entrails, whet thy knife again,Let's see what evils threat the next campaign,If ministerial force shall prove too great,Or if the Congress save their mighty freight:See on his breast, deep grav'd with iron pen,"Passive obedience to the worst of men."There to his lights direct thy searching eyes,"Slavery I love, and freedom I despise."View next his heart, his midriff just above,"To my own country I'll a traitor prove."Hard by his throat, for utterance meant, I spy,"I'll fight for tyrants and their ministry."His crowded guts unnumber'd scrawls contain,The scandal of our country and the bane;His bleeding entrails shew some great design,Which shall abortive prove, as I divine;But, freedom lost, nor danger do I see,If we can only with ourselves agree.How like St. George, invincible I stand,This home bred dragon stretch'd beneath my hand!Here may he lie, and let no traveller dareThe grass green hillock o'er his carcase rear,Or heap up piles of monumental stones,To shield from Phœbus and the stars his bones.This feat perform'd, I girt my magic gown,And march'd, unlicens'd, from the guarded town.To our fam'd camp I held my eager course,Curious to view the courage and the forceOf those, whose hearts are flush'd with freedom's flame,Who yet stand foremost in the field of fame,And deeply griev'd with their departing laws,Arm in conviction of a righteous cause.But e'er I reach'd the great encampment's boundThe friendly Genius on the way I found;Graceful he smil'd his azure locks he shook,While from his lips these flowing accents broke:"O mortal! guided by the fates and me,To view what thousands wish in vain to see;Now to my care the magic vest restore,Chearful return to what thou wast before,I to the shades this wond'rous mantle bear,And hang it safe in Fancy's temple there;Nor let its loss provoke thee to repine,The vest was Jove's, the will to lend it mine."So said the God, and blending with the light,I walk'd conspicuous and reveal'd to sight,No more impervious to the human view,But seeing all, and seen by others too.Now throngs on throngs on ev'ry side surround,Beneath the burthen groans the heaving ground,Those fam'd afar to drive the deadly shot,With truest level to the central spot;Those whom Virginia's vast dominion sends,From her chaste streams and intervening lands,And those who conscious of their country's claim,From Pennsylvania's happy climate came.These, and ten thousand more were scatter'd roundIn black battalions on the tented ground,Prepar'd, whene'er the trumpet's iron roarShould summon forth to all the woes of war,To hear with joy the loud alarming call,And rush perhaps to their own funeral.Just in the center of the camp aroseAn elm, whose shade invited to repose;Thither I rov'd, and at the cool retreatA brave, tho' rough-cast, soldier chanc'd to meet:No fop in arms, no feather on his head,No glittering toys the manly warrior had,His auburne face the least employ'd his care,He left it to the females to be fair;And tho't the men, whom shining trifles sway,But pageant soldiers for a sun-shine day.Marking my pensive step, his hand he laidOn his hard breast, and thus the warrior said:"Stranger, observe, behold these warlike fields,Mark well the ills, that civil discord yields:No crimes of our's this vengeful doom require,Our city ravag'd and our towns on fire,Troops pour'd on troops to Britain's lasting shame,That threaten all with universal flame;These are the kings, the monarchs of the sea,Exerting power in lawless tyranny,These, hot for power, and burning for command,Would rule the ocean and subject the land;But while this arm the strength of man retains,While true-born courage revels through my veins,I'll spill my blood yon' hostile force to quell,And lawless power by lawful strength repel;This rough, black cannon shall our cause defend,This black, rough cannon is my truest friend.This, arm'd with vengeance, belching death afar,Confus'd their thousands marching to the war:Yet, deeply griev'd, the tears bedew my eyes,For this, the greatest of calamities;That our keen weapons, meant for other ends,Should spend their rage on Britons, once our friends;But Liberty! – no price hast thou below,And e'en a Briton's life for thee must go.Come, then, my weapons, rise in Freedom's aid,Her steps attend and be her call obey'd;Let Carleton arm his antichristian might,And sprinkle holy-water 'ere he fight,And let him have, to shield his limbs from hurt,St. Stephen's breeches,[c] and St. Stephen's shirt,[c]Don Quixote's sword, the valiant knight of Spain,Which now may grace a madman's side again,St. Bernard's hose,[c] and lest we give too few,John Faustus' cap, and Satan's cloven shoe;(These precious relicks may defend their backs,And good Guy Johnson should, I think, go snacks)Nay, let him, ere the clashing armies cope,Procure a pardon from his friend the Pope,That if his soul should be dislodg'd from hence,Heaven may with all his scarlet sins dispense,And place him safe beyond the reach of ball,Where Abrah'm's bosom may be had for all.Some powerful cause disarms my heart of fear,And bids me bring some future battle near,When crowds of dead shall veil the ghastful plain,And mighty Lords like Percy, fly again;When every pulse with treble force shall beatAnd each exert his valour to retreat.And each shall wish his stature may be made,Long as it seems at Sol's descending shade:So tallest trees that tour toward the skies,From simple acorns take their humble rise.To see from death their boasted valour shrink,And basely fly, has sometimes made me think,The true great heart is often found remoteFrom the gay trappings of a scarlet coat.Stranger, in pity lend one pensive sigh,For all that dy'd and all that yet may die,If wars intestine long their rage retain,This land must turn a wilderness again.While civil discord plumes her snaky head,What streams of human gore most yet be shed,With sanguine floods shall Mystick's waves be dy'd,And ting'd the ocean, with her purple tide;Enough. – The prospect fills my heart with woe;Back to the heart my freezing spirits flow,No more remains; no more than this, that allMust fight like Romans, or like Romans fall:O heaven-born peace, renew thy wonted charms,Where Neptune westward spreads his aged arms;To hostile lands return an honour'd guest,And bless our crimson shores among the rest;'Till then may heaven assert our injur'd claims,And second every stroke Columbia aims,Direct our counsels and our leaders sway,Confound our foes and fill them with dismay.So shall past years, those happy years, return,And war's red lamp in Boston cease to burn:Hear and attest the warmest wish I bring,God save the Congress and reform the King!Long may Britannia rule our hearts again,Rule as she rul'd in George the Second's reign;May ages hence her growing empire see,And she be glorious, but ourselves be free,In that just scale an equal balance hold,And grant these climes a second age of gold."He ceas'd, and now the sun's declining beamWith fainter radiance shot a trembling gleam,The thickening stars proclaim'd the day expir'd,And to their tented mansions all retir'd.

[b] A notable Tory in Boston. —Freneau's note.

[c] Certain well known relicks among the Papists. —Freneau's note.

87

"Huns." —Ed. 1786.

88

"Slaughter'd by our Rifle-guns." —Ed. 1786.

89

"Proud of his soldiership, Burgoyne rated himself higher yet in his character as an author." —Trevelyan. He was a voluminous letter-writer, and his vivid and interesting letters, of which great numbers have been preserved, throw much light upon the period.

90

This expression belongs to Burgoyne rather than Howe. "Burgoyne took no pains to hide them [his sentiments] in any company. He exclaimed to the first colonist whom he met … 'Let us get in and we will soon find elbow-room.' The saying caught the public ear, and the time was not far distant when its author learned to his cost that it is more easy to coin a phrase than to recall it from circulation." —Trevelyan, Am. Rev.

91

"School-boy army." —Ed. 1786.

92

The first detachment of troops, which left Boston on the night of April 18th, consisted of 800 men; the reinforcements that met them just beyond Lexington consisted of 1,200 men. "On this eventful day, the British lost 273 of their number, while the Americans lost 93." —Fiske's American Revolution.

93

Lord Percy was at the head of the reinforcements which rescued the British regulars on their retreat from Concord and Lexington, and it was under his leadership that the disastrous retreat was continued to Boston.

94

"I believe the fact, stripped of all coloring," Washington wrote six weeks later on, "to be plainly this: that if the retreat had not been as precipitate as it was (and God knows it could not have been more so), the ministerial troops must have surrendered or been totally cut off." —Trevelyan's American Revolution.

95

"In this battle, in which not more than one hour was spent in actual fighting, the British loss in killed and wounded was 1,054… The American loss, mainly incurred at the rail fence and during the hand-to-hand struggle at the redoubt, was 449." —Fiske's American Revolution.

96

Burgoyne, in one of his letters, declares that "a pound of fresh mutton could only be bought for its weight in gold."

97

Gage's inertness and procrastination were a constant source of ridicule both in England and America. No man was ever more severely criticised. Hume even branded him as a contemptible coward.

98

In the 1786 edition the title is "The Desolate Academy." In place of the first six lines above, the 1786 edition had the following:

"Subjected to despotic ruleOnce in this dome I went to school,Where Pedro Passive held his reign,The tyrant of a small domain."

99

In the 1786 edition the title is "The Sea-Faring Bachelor;" in 1795 it was changed to "Advice to a Friend."

100

"And seek a bride – for few can findThe sea a mistress to their mind." —Ed. 1786.

101

The first trace that I can find of this poem is in the Oct. 18, 1775, issue of Anderson's Constitutional Gazette, where it has the title, "Reflections on Gage's Letter to Gen. Washington of Aug. 13." It was published in the 1786 edition with the title, "On the Conqueror of America shut up in Boston. Published in New York, August 1775." The 1795 edition changed the title to "The Misnomer." I have followed the title and text of the 1809 edition.

102

General Gage's proclamation, issued June 12, 1775, was as follows: "Whereas the infatuated multitudes, who have long suffered themselves to be conducted by certain well-known incendiaries and traitors, in a fatal progression of crimes against the constitutional authority of the state, have at length proceeded to avowed rebellion, and the good effects which were expected to arise from the patience and lenity of the king's government have been often frustrated, and are now rendered hopeless by the influence of the same evil counsels, it only remains for those who are intrusted with the supreme rule, as well for the punishment of the guilty as the protection of the well-affected, to prove that they do not bear the sword in vain."

103

"The hopeful general." —Constitutional Gazette.

104

On June 11, Washington had written Gage, among other things, "that the officers engaged in the cause of liberty and their country, who by the fortune of war had fallen into your hands, have been thrown indiscriminately into a common gaol appropriated for felons," and threatening retaliation in like cases, "exactly by the rule you shall observe towards those of ours now in your custody." To this Cage replied, on the 13th: "Britons, ever pre-eminent in mercy, have outgone common examples, and overlooked the criminal in the captive. Upon these principles your prisoners, whose lives, by the law of the land, are destined to the cord, have hitherto been treated with care and kindness," &c. —Duyckinck.

105

"Gage shall be." —Gazette.

106

"Black monster." —Gazette.

107

The Gazette version adds here the lines,

"Nay, with himself, ere freedom sent to quellHad seen the lowest lurking place of hell."

108

"British clemency." —Ed. 1786.

109

"Their past records show." —Ed, 1786. "Gage already lets us know." —Gazette.

110

"The viper foe." —Gazette.

111

This and the preceding line not in the earlier versions. In place of them the Gazette has the lines:

"Spoil'd of their shrouds and o'er Canadia's plainsBe hung aloft to terrify in chains."

112

The Gazette version ends the poem from this point as follows:

"Let Baker's head be snatch'd from infamy,And Carleton's Popish scull be fixt on high,And all like him o'er St. John's castle swing,To show that freedom is no trifling thing."

113

"Their tyrant of a king." —Ed. 1786.

114

"Blackbird." —Ed. 1786.

115

"In groves of half distinguish'd light." —Ib.

116

"General Gage's Confession" was printed in pamphlet form in 1775. As far as I can ascertain, there exists but a single copy of this publication, that in the possession of the Library Company of Philadelphia. A manuscript note upon this copy, unquestionably the handwriting of Freneau, is as follows: "By Gaine. Published October 25, 1775." The poem was manifestly written after Gage's recall. The poet never reprinted it.

117

On July 28, 1775, George III. wrote to Lord North: "I have desired Lord Dartmouth to acquaint Lt. G. Gage that as he thinks nothing further can be done this campaign in the province of Massachusetts Bay that he is desired instantly to come over, that he may explain the various wants for carrying on the next campaign." "It was a kindly pretext devised to spare the feelings of an unprofitable but a faithful and a brave servant." —Trevelyan. General Gage embarked at Boston for England, Oct. 12, 1775.

118

The scarcity of provisions in the British camp during the siege of Boston has been already alluded to. "When marauding expeditions," says Bancroft, "returned with sheep and hogs and cattle captured from islands, the bells were rung as for victory."

119

Alluding to the proclamation of June 12, five days before Bunker Hill, which established martial law throughout Massachusetts and proscribed Hancock and Samuel Adams. By this proclamation, all who were in arms about Boston, every member of the State Government and of the Continental Congress, were threatened with condign punishment as rebels and traitors.

120

Washington had written to Gage, remonstrating against the cruel treatment of certain American officers, who were denied the privileges and immunities due their rank. Almost the last official act of Gage was to reply through Burgoyne in a letter addressed to "George Washington, Esqr.," that "Britons, ever pre-eminent in mercy, have overlooked the criminal in the captive. Your prisoners, whose lives by the law of the land are destined to the cord, have hitherto been treated with care and kindness; – indiscriminately, it is true, for I acknowledge no rank that is not derived from the King."