The Poems of Philip Freneau Volume III Part 56

The bombardiers with bomb and ball, Soon made a farmer's barrack fall, And did a cow-house sadly maul That stood a mile from Stonington.

They kill'd a goose, they kill'd a hen, Three hogs they wounded in a pen-- They dash'd away, and pray what then?

This was not taking Stonington.

The sh.e.l.ls were thrown, the rockets flew, But not a sh.e.l.l, of all they threw, Though every house was full in view, Could burn a house at Stonington.

To have their turn they thought but fair;-- The yankees brought two guns to bear, And, sir, it would have made you stare, This smoke of smokes at Stonington.

They bored Pactolus through and through, And kill'd and wounded of her crew So many, that she bade adieu T' the gallant boys of Stonington.

The brig Despatch was hull'd and torn-- So crippled, riddled, so forlorn, No more she cast an eye of scorn On th' little fort at Stonington.

The Ramillies gave up th' affray And, with her comrades, sneak'd away-- Such was the valor, on that day, Of british tars near Stonington.

But some a.s.sert, on certain grounds, (Besides the damage and the wounds) It cost the king ten thousand pounds To have a dash at Stonington.

ON THE BRITISH INVASION

1814[204]

From France, desponding and betray'd, From liberty in ruins laid, Exulting Britain has display'd Her flag, again to invade us.

Her myrmidons, with murdering eye, Across the broad Atlantic fly Prepared again their strength to try, And strike our country's standard.

Lord Wellington's ten thousand slaves,[A]

And thrice ten thousand, on the waves, And thousands more of brags and braves Are under sail, and coming

[A] Lord Wellington's army embarked on the river Garonne, in France, in several divisions, for the invasion of the United States, amounting, it was said, to sixty or seventy thousand men.--_Freneau's note._

To burn our towns, to seize our soil, To change our laws, our country spoil, And Madison to Elba's isle To send without redemption.

In Boston state they hope to find A yankee host of kindred mind To aid their arms, to rise and bind Their countrymen in shackles:

But no such thing--it will not do-- At least, not while a Jersey Blue Is to the cause of freedom true, Or the bold Pennsylvanian.

A curse on England's frantic schemes!

Both mad and blind--her monarch dreams Of crowns and kingdoms in these climes Where kings have had their sentence.

Though Was.h.i.+ngton has left our coast, Yet other Was.h.i.+ngtons we boast, Who rise, instructed by his ghost, To punish all invaders.

Go where they will, where'er they land, This pilfering, plundering, pirate band, They liberty will find at hand To hurl them to perdition:

If in Virginia they appear, Their fate is fix'd, their doom is near, Death in their front and h.e.l.l their rear-- So says the gallant buckskin.

All Carolina is prepared, And Charleston doubly on her guard; Where, once, sir Peter badly fared, So blasted by fort Moultrie.

If farther south they turn their views, With veteran troops, or veteran crews, The curse of heaven their march pursues To send them all a-packing:

The tallest mast that sails the wave, The longest keel its waters lave, Will bring them to an early grave On the sh.o.r.es of Pensacola.

[204] This poem was written early in August, on receipt of the news that a large squadron was on its way across the Atlantic to lay waste the seaboard cities. The squadron finally sailed into Chesapeake Bay and turned its attention first to Was.h.i.+ngton and Baltimore.

ON THE ENGLISH DEVASTATIONS

AT THE CITY OF WAs.h.i.+NGTON[205]

Their power abused! that power may soon descend: Years, not remote, may see their glory end:-- The british power, the avaricious crown, Pull'd every flag, hurl'd every standard down; Columbian s.h.i.+ps they seized on every sea, Condemn'd those s.h.i.+ps, nor left our sailors free.-- So long a tyrant on the watery stage, They thought to tyrannize through every age; They hoped all commerce to monopolize; Europe, at sea, they affected to despise; They laugh'd at France contending for a share Of commerce, one would think, as free as air.

They captured most, without remorse or plea, And grew as proud as arrogance could be.

Stung by a thousand wrongs, at length arose The Western States, these tyrants to oppose; With just resentment, met them on the main, And burnt, or sunk their s.h.i.+ps, with hosts of slain.

The blood ran black from every english heart To see their empire from the seas depart, To see their flag to thirteen stripes surrender, And many an english s.h.i.+p made fire and tinder; They swore, they raged; they saw, with patience spent, Each last engagement had the same event-- What could they do? revenge inspired their b.r.e.a.s.t.s, And h.e.l.l's sensations seized their swelling chests.-- All to revenge, to Maryland they came, And costly works of art a.s.sail'd with flame; In Was.h.i.+ngton they left a dismal void,-- Poor compensation for their s.h.i.+ps destroy'd!-- We burn, where guns their frigates poorly guard; They burn, where scarce a gun is seen or heard!

[205] Was.h.i.+ngton was taken by the British, August 24, 1814. "It was only the vandalism of the British soldiers and sailors, incited by c.o.c.kburn and ill restrained by Ross, that made this incursion at once memorable and infamous. To public edifices, having no immediate relation to the war, the torch was applied; to the unfinished Capitol (which contained the library of Congress); the President's house, the Treasury,--to all the government buildings in fact, except the Patent Office, besides numerous private dwellings about Capitol Hill."--Schouler's _History of the United States_.

"All this was the more shameful because done under strict orders from home."--Green's _History of the English People_.

ON THE CONFLAGRATIONS AT WAs.h.i.+NGTON

August 24, 1814

----Jam deiphobi dedit ampla ruinam, Vulcano superante, domus; jam proximus ardet Ucalegon.--_Virgil._

Now, George the third rules not alone, For George the vandal shares the throne, True flesh of flesh and bone of bone.

G.o.d save us from the fangs of both; Or, one a vandal, one a goth, May roast or boil us into froth.

Like danes, of old, their fleet they man And rove from Beersheba to Dan, To burn, and beard us--where they can.

They say, at George the fourth's command This vagrant host were sent, to land And leave in every house--a brand.

An idiot only would require Such war--the worst they could desire-- The felon's war--the war of fire.

The warfare, now, th' invaders make Must surely keep us all awake, Or life is lost for freedom's sake.