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Title: The Fall of British Tyranny
American Liberty Triumphant
Author: John Leacock
Editor: Montrose J. Moses
Release Date: June 26, 2009 [EBook #29226]
Language: English
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TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES
This e-book contains the text of _The Fall of British Tyranny_,
extracted from Representative Plays by American Dramatists: Vol 1,
1765-1819. Comments and background to all the plays and the other plays
are available at Project Gutenberg.
Spelling as in the original has been preserved.
THE FALL
OF
BRITISH TYRANNY
_By_ JOHN LEACOCK
JOHN LEACOCK
Among the elusive figures of early American Drama stands John Leacock,
author of "The Fall of British Tyranny,"[1] published in 1776, in
Philadelphia. Even more elusive is the identification, inasmuch as his
name has been spelled variously Leacock, Lacock, and Laycock. To add to
the confusion, Watson's "Annals of Philadelphia," on the reminiscent
word of an old resident of that town, declares that Joseph Leacock
penned "The Medley."[2] "He wrote also a play, with good humour," says
this authority, "called 'British Tyranny.'" On careful search of the
files, no definite information in regard to Leacock has been
forthcoming. The dedication to "The Fall of British Tyranny" was signed
"Dick Rifle," but there is no information to be traced from this
pseudonym.
Searching the Colonial Records of Pennsylvania, I discovered no less
than three John Leacocks mentioned, all of whom were Coroners, as well
as a Joseph Leacock, who occupied the same position. Examining the
Records of the Pennsylvania Soldiers of the Revolution, I found several
John Leacocks in the ranks as privates, and also one John Laycock.
Professor Moses Coit Tyler, in his "Literary History of the American
Revolution" (ii, 198), giving a list of the characters in the play and
the names of those supposed to be lampooned, analyzes the piece
thoroughly, and says, "From internal evidence, it must be inferred that
the writing of the play was finished after the publication of 'Common
Sense' in January, 1776, and before the news had reached Philadelphia of
the evacuation of Boston, March 17, 1776." Though Sabin takes for
granted that Leacock wrote "The Fall of British Tyranny," Hildeburn, in
the "Issues of the Press" (ii, 249), states that it is "said to have
been written by Mr. Laycock of Philadelphia." If the John Leacock, whose
name appears in the Philadelphia Directory of 1802, is the one who wrote
"The Fall of British Tyranny," following that clue we find his name
disappearing from the Directory in 1804. Hence, he must either have
died, or have moved away from Philadelphia.
The elusive name of Leacock is to be considered also in connection with
an opera entitled, "The Disappointment; or, The Force of Credulity,"
signed by Andrew Barton,[3] supposed to be a pseudonym, and attributed
variously to "Colonel" Thomas Forrest and to John Leacock. I already
have had occasion to mention "The Disappointment" in connection with
Godfrey's "The Prince of Parthia." The reader will remember that in 1767
"The Disappointment" was put into rehearsal, but was suddenly withdrawn
in preference to Godfrey's piece. This play has been fully and
interestingly analyzed by O. G. Sonneck, who gives the reasons for the
withdrawal of the play from rehearsal by the American Company of
Philadelphia, 1767. These reasons are definitely stated in the
_Pennsylvania Gazette_ for April 16, 1767, which contains this warning
in the American Company's advertisement of "The Mourning Bride": "N.B.
'The Disappointment' (that was advertised for Monday), as it contains
personal Reflections, is unfit for the Stage."
The reason why this piece is attributed to "Colonel" Thomas Forrest is
that there is a memorandum in substantiation on the title-page of a copy
owned by the Library Company of Philadelphia.
Mr. Sonneck gives further and more extensive treatment of the subject in
his excellent book on "Early Opera in America," (Schirmer, 1915) as well
as in "Sammelbände der Internationale Musik Gesellschaft," for
1914-1915.
We mention the matter here, because, although Sonneck enters into a long
discussion of the life of Forrest, he fails to give any satisfactory
account of John Leacock. In fact, he says in closing, "If Andrew Barton,
Esq., is to be a pseudonym, it seems to me that John Leacock, claimed
(by Mr. Hildeburn) to have written the tragi-comedy of 'The Fall of
British Tyranny,' should not be cast aside so cheerfully in favour of
Thomas Forrest."
Seilhamer and Durang, referring to the matter, mention Joseph Leacock as
a claimant for the authorship of "The Disappointment," and say that he
was a jeweler and a silversmith in Philadelphia; they also mention John
Leacock, the Coroner. Durang, in the "History of the Philadelphia
Stage," throws all weight in favour of Thomas Forrest. Sonneck says
further, regarding the matter,--"We may dispose of Joseph by saying that
he seems to have been among the dead when, in 1796, the second edition
of 'The Disappointment,' revised and corrected by the author, was
issued. On the other hand, Coroner John Leacock figures in the
Philadelphia Directories even later."
So the matter stands. The play, however, is a very definite
contribution, illustrating how quickly the American spirit changed in
the days preceding the Revolution. Imagine, in 1762, the students of the
College of New Jersey giving a piece entitled "The Military Glory of
Great Britain;"[4] and so short a time afterwards, only fourteen years,
in fact, a piece with the title, "The Fall of British Tyranny," being
greeted by the theatre-going public! Leacock's attempt may be taken as
the first example that we have of an American chronicle play. And it is
likewise significant as being the first literary piece in which George
Washington appears as a character. In the advertisement, the play is
thus described (see Ford):
"A pleasing scene between Roger and Dick, two shepherds near Lexington.
"Clarissa, etc. A very moving scene on the death of Dr. Warren, etc., in
a chamber near Boston, the morning after the battle of Bunker's Hill.
"A humorous scene between the Boatswain and a Sailor on board a
man-of-war, near Norfolk in Virginia.
"Two very laughable scenes between the Boatswain, two Sailors and the
Cook, exhibiting specimens of seafaring oratory, and peculiar eloquence
of those sons of Neptune, touching Tories, Convicts, and Black Regulars:
and between Lord Kidnapper and the Boatswain.
"A very black scene between Lord Kidnapper and Major Cudjo.
"A religious scene between Lord Kidnapper, Chaplain, and the Captain.
"A scene, the Lord Mayor, etc., going to St. James's with the address.
"A droll scene, a council of war in Boston, Admiral Tombstone, Elbow
Room, Mr. Caper, General Clinton and Earl Piercy.
"A diverting scene between a Whig and a Tory.
"A spirited scene between General Prescott and Colonel Allen.
"A shocking scene, a dungeon, between Colonel Allen and an officer of
the guard.
"Two affecting scenes in Boston after the flight of the regulars from
Lexington, between Lord Boston, messenger and officers of the guard.
"A patriotic scene in the camp at Cambridge, between the Generals
Washington, Lee, and Putnam, etc., etc."
It is interesting to note that in the Abbé Robin's discerning remarks,
concerning the effect of drama on the pupils of Harvard in 1781, and on
the general appeal of drama among the American Patriots, he mentions
"The Fall of British Tyranny" without giving the author's name.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The Fall/of/British Tyranny;/or,/American Liberty/Triumphant./The
First Campaign./A Tragi-Comedy of Five Acts,/as Lately Planned/at the
Royal Theatrum Pandemonium,/at St. James's./The Principal Place of
Action in America./Publish'd According to Act of Parliament./Quis furor
ô cives! quæ tanta licentia ferri?/Lucan. lib. I. ver. 8./What blind,
detested madness could afford/Such horrid licence to the murd'ring
sword?/Rowe./Philadelphia:/Printed by Styner and Cist, in
Second-street,/near Arch-street. M DCC LXXVI.
[2] "The Medley; or, Harlequin Have At Ye All." A pantomime produced at
Covent Garden, and published in 1778.
[3] From Sabin, I take the following:
BARTON (A.) "The Disappointment; or, The Force of Credulity." A new
American Comic Opera, of two Acts. By Andrew Barton, Esq. [Motto.] _New
York, Printed in the year_ M, DCC, LXVIII. 8vo. pp. v., 58. P. t. Second
edition, revised and corrected, with large additions, by the Author.
_Philadelphia_, Francis Shallus, 1796. 12 mo. pp. iv., 94, p. 3801.
[Sabin also notes that the Philadelphia Library copy is very rare, with
MS Key to the characters, who were Philadelphians. Air No. iv is Yankee
Doodle (1767).]
[4] The Title-page runs as follows:
The/Military Glory/of/Great-Britain,/an/Entertainment,/given by the late
Candidates for/Bachelor's Degree,/At the close of the/Anniversary
Commencement, held/in/Nassau-Hall/New-Jersey/September 29th,
1762./Philadelphia:/Printed by William Bradford, M, DCC, LXII.
[Illustration: THE FALL
OF
BRITISH TYRANNY
OR,
AMERICAN LIBERTY
_TRIUMPHANT_.
THE FIRST CAMPAIGN.
A _TRAGI-COMEDY_ OF FIVE ACTS,
AS LATELY PLANNED
AT THE ROYAL THEATRUM PANDEMONIUM, AT ST. JAMES'S.
THE PRINCIPAL PLACE OF ACTION IN AMERICA.
PUBLISH'D. ACCORDING TO ACT OF PARLIAMENT.
Quis furor ô cives! quæ tanta licentia ferri?
LUCAN. lib. 1. ver. 8.
_What blind, detested madness could afford
Such horrid license to the murd'ring sword?_
ROWE.
_PHILADELPHIA:_
PRINTED BY STYNER AND CIST, IN SECOND-STREET, NEAR ARCH-STREET. M DCC
LXXVI.
FAC-SIMILE TITLE-PAGE OF THE FIRST EDITION]
_THE DEDICATION_
To Lord Boston, Lord Kidnapper, and the innumerable and never-ending
Clan of Macs and Donalds upon Donalds, and the Remnant of the
Gentlemen Officers, Actors, Merry Andrews, strolling Players,
Pirates, and Buccaneers in America.
My Lords and Gentlemen:
_Understanding you are vastly fond of plays and farces, and frequently
exhibit them for your own amusement, and the laudable purpose of
ridiculing your masters (the YANKEES, as you call 'em), it was expected
you would have been polite enough to have favoured the world, or America
at least (at whose expense you act them), with some of your play-bills,
or with a sample of your composition._
_I shall, however, not copy your churlishness, but dedicate the
following Tragi-Comedy to your patronage, and for your future
entertainment; and as the most of you have already acted your particular
parts of it, both comic and tragic, in reality at Lexington,
Bunker's-Hill, the Great-Bridge, &c., &c., &c., to the very great
applause of yourselves, tho' not of the whole house, no doubt you will
preserve the marks, or memory of it, as long as you live, as it is wrote
in capital American characters and letters of blood on your posteriors:
And however some Whigs may censure you for your affected mirth (as they
term it, in the deplorable situation you are now in, like hogs in a pen,
and in want of elbow room), yet I can by no means agree with them, but
think it a proof of true heroism and philosophy, to endeavour to make
the best of a bad bargain, and laugh at yourselves, to prevent others
from laughing at you; and tho' you are deprived of the use of your
teeth, it is no reason you should be bereaved of the use of your
tongues, your eyes, your ears, and your risible faculties and powers.
That would be cruel indeed! after the glorious and fatiguing campaign
you have made, and the many signal victories obtained over whole herds
of cattle and swine, routing flocks of sheep, lambs and geese, storming
hen-roosts, and taking them prisoners, and thereby raising the glory of
Old England to a pitch she never knew before. And ye Macs, and ye
Donalds upon Donalds, go on, and may our gallows-hills and liberty poles
be honour'd and adorn'd with some of your heads: Why should Tyburn and
Temple-bar make a monopoly of so valuable a commodity?_
_Wishing you abundance of entertainment in the re-acting this
Tragi-Comedy, and of which I should be proud to take a part with you,
tho' I have reason to think you would not of choice let me come within
three hundred yards of your stage, lest I should rob you of your
laurels, receive the clap of the whole house, and pass for a second
Garrick among you, as you know I always act with applause, speak
bold--point blank--off hand--and without prompter._
_I am_, My Lords and Gentlemen Buffoons,
_Your always ready humble servant,_
DICK RIFLE.
THE PREFACE
Solomon said, "Oppression makes a wise man mad:" but what would he have
said, had he lived in these days, and seen the oppression of the people
of Boston, and the distressed situation of the inhabitants of
Charlestown, Falmouth, Stonnington, Bristol, Norfolk, &c.? Would he not
have said, "The tongue of the sucking child cleaveth to the roof of his
mouth for thirst; the young children ask for bread, but no man breaketh
it unto them?" "They that did feed delicately, perish in the streets;
they that were brought up in scarlet, embrace the dung." What would he
have said of rejected petitions, disregarded supplications, and
contemned remonstrances? Would he not have said, "From hardness of
heart, good Lord, deliver us?" What would he have said of a freeborn
people butchered--their towns desolated, and become an heap of
ashes--their inhabitants become beggars, wanderers and vagabonds--by the
cruel orders of an unrelenting tyrant, wallowing in luxury, and wantonly
wasting the people's wealth, to oppress them the more? Would he not have
said, it was oppression and ingratitude in the highest degree, exceeding
the oppression of the children of Israel? and, like Moses, have cried
out, let the people go? Would he not have wondered at our patience and
long-suffering, and have said, "'Tis time to change our master!--'Tis
time to part!"--And had he been an American born, would he not have
shewed his wisdom by adopting the language of independency? Happy then
for America in these fluctuating times, she is not without her Solomons,
who see the necessity of heark'ning to reason, and listening to the
voice of COMMON SENSE.
THE GODDESS OF LIBERTY
Hail! Patriots,[5] hail! by me inspired be!
Speak boldly, think and act for Liberty,
United sons, America's choice band,
Ye Patriots firm, ye sav'ours of the land.
Hail! Patriots, hail! rise with the rising sun,
Nor quit your labour, till the work is done.
Ye early risers in your country's cause,
Shine forth at noon, for Liberty and Laws.
Build a strong tow'r, whose fabric may endure
Firm as a rock, from tyranny secure.
Yet would you build my fabric to endure,
Be your hearts warm--but let your hands be pure.
Never to shine, yourselves, your country sell;
But think you nobly, while in place act well.
Let no self-server general trust betray,
No picque, no party, bar the public way.
Front an arm'd world, with union on your side:
No foe shall shake you--if no friends divide.
At night repose, and sweetly take your rest;
None sleeps so sound as those by conscience blest;
May martyr'd patriots whisper in your ear,
To tread the paths of virtue without fear;
May pleasing visions charm your patriot eyes;
While Freedom's sons shall hail you blest and wise,
Hail! my last hope, she cries, inspired by me,
Wish, talk, write, fight, and die--for LIBERTY.
FOOTNOTES:
[5] The Congress
THE PROLOGUE
_Spoken by_ Mr. Peter Buckstail.
Since 'tis the fashion, preface, prologue next,
Else what's a play?--like sermon without text!
Since 'tis the fashion then, I'll not oppose;
For what's a man if he's without a nose?
The curtain's up--the music's now begun,
What is 't?--Why murder, fire, and sword, and gun.
What scene?--Why blood!--What act?--Fight and be free!
Or be ye slaves--and give up liberty!
Blest Continent, while groaning nations round
Bend to the servile yoke, ignobly bound,
May ye be free--nor ever be opprest
By murd'ring tyrants, but a land of rest!
What say ye to 't? what says the audience?
Methinks I hear some whisper COMMON SENSE.
Hark! what say them Tories?--Silence--let 'em speak,
Poor fools! dumb--they hav'n't spoke a word this week,
Dumb let 'em be, at full end of their tethers,
'Twill save the expense of tar and of feathers:
Since old Pluto's lurch'd 'em, and swears he does not know
If more these Tory puppy curs will bark or no.
Now ring the bell--Come forth, ye actors, come,
The Tragedy's begun, beat, beat the drum,
Let's all advance, equipt like volunteers,
Oppose the foe, and banish all our fears.
We will be free--or bravely we will die, }
And leave to Tories tyrants' legacy, }
And all our share of its dependency. }
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
LORD PARAMOUNT, Mr. Bute.
LORD MOCKLAW, Mr. Mansfield.
LORD HYPOCRITE, Mr. Dartmouth.
LORD POLTRON, Mr. Sandwich.
LORD CATSPAW, Mr. North.
LORD WISDOM, Mr. Chatham.
LORD RELIGION, Bishop of St. Asaph.
LORD JUSTICE, Mr. Camden.
LORD PATRIOT, Mr. Wilkes.
BOLD IRISHMAN, Mr. Burke.
JUDAS, Mr. Hutchinson.
CHARLEY, Mr. Jenkinson.
BRAZEN, Mr. Wedderburne.
COLONEL, Mr. Barre.
LORD BOSTON, Mr. Gage.
ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE, Mr. Graves.
ELBOW ROOM,[6] Mr. Howe.
MR. CAPER, Mr. Burgoyne.
LORD KIDNAPPER, Mr. Dunmore.
GENERAL WASHINGTON.
GENERAL LEE.
GENERAL PUTNAM.
_Officers, Soldiers, Sailors, Citizens, Negroes, &c., &c., &c._
FOOTNOTES:
[6] It seems to be generally thought that the expression of "Elbow Room"
is to be attributed to General Howe, and not to General Burgoyne.
THE FALL
OF
BRITISH TYRANNY, &c.
ACT I.
SCENE I. _At St. James's._
LORD PARAMOUNT [_solus, strutting about_].
Many long years have rolled delightfully on, whilst I have been basking
in the sunshine of grandeur and power, whilst I have imperceptibly (tho'
not unsuspected) guided the chariot of state, and greased with the
nation's gold the imperial wheels.
'Tis I that move the mighty engine of royalty, and with the tincture of
my somniferous opiate or (in the language of a courtier) by the virtue
of my secret influence, I have lulled the axletree to sleep, and brought
on a pleasing insensibility.
Let their champion, Lord Wisdom, groan, he is now become feeble and
impotent, a mere cripple in politics; their Lord Patriot's squint has
lost its basilisk effect: and the bold Irishman may bellow the _Keenew_
till he's hoarse, he's no more when compar'd to me than an Irish salmon
to a Scotch herring: I care not a bawbee for them all. I'll reign in
Britain, I'll be king of their counsels, and chief among the princes.
Oh! ambition, thou darling of my soul! stop not till I rise superior to
all superlative, till I mount triumphantly the pinnacle of glory, or at
least open the way for one of my own family and name to enter without
opposition.
The work is now cut out, and must be finish'd, I have ventur'd too far
to recede, my honour's at stake, my importance, nay my life, depends
upon it!
Last night's three hours' closeting has effectually done the business;
then I spoke my mind in such terms as to make a lasting impression,
never to be eradicated--all--all was given up to me, and now since I
hold the reins of government, since I am possessed of supreme power,
every thing shall be subservient to my royal will and pleasure.
SCENE II.
_Enter MOCKLAW._
MOCKLAW. I am your Lordship's most obedient humble servant.
PARAMOUNT. Be seated,--I sent for you to have a small conference with
you--and to let you know, your advice respecting certain points of law,
I have found succeeded to admiration; even beyond my most sanguine
expectations.
MOCKLAW. I am heartily glad of it, altho' the advice I gave your
Lordship, I cannot say, was law; yet, your Lordship can easily pass it
as such by a royal proclamation: and should it ever be disputed, I have
quirks and quibbles enough at your service, with Mr. Brazen and Mr.
Attorney-General's assistance, to render it so doubtful, obscure and
ambiguous, as to puzzle Lord Justice, perplex Dunning, and confound
Glynn.
PARAMOUNT. Can you show me an instance of a royal proclamation passing
for a law? or advise me how to make it such, if you can, I shall make it
well worth your study.
MOCKLAW. My Lord, as you have now got a parliament exactly to your mind,
ev'ry thing you propose will be granted; but in order that you may see
precedents are not wanting--there is a statute in the reign of Henry the
8th that expressly shews the then parliament passed a law that the
king's proclamation should be the law of the land--
PARAMOUNT. Are you sure of that?
MOCKLAW. My Lord, here it is--this is real law: _Luce meridiana
clariora_. When we find any thing of this kind, ready made to our hands,
it's a treasure we should never part with.
[_PARAMOUNT reads._
PARAMOUNT. I see it plain! this, this alone is worth a ton of
gold.--Now, by St. Andrew! I'll strike a stroke that shall surprise all
Europe, and make the boldest of the adverse party turn pale and
tremble--Scotch politics, Scotch intrigues, Scotch influence, and Scotch
impudence (as they have termed it), they shall see ere long shine with
unheard of splendour, and the name of Lord Paramount the mighty, shall
blaze in the annals of the world with far greater lustre (as a
consummate politician) than the name of Alexander the Great, as an hero!
MOCKLAW. That day I much wish for,--but, with your Lordship's
permission, I would just mention, that secrecy and dissimulation are the
soul of enterprise; your Lordship hath many enemies, who watch ev'ry
movement of state with a jealous and wary eye.
PARAMOUNT. I know it, but the futile attempts of my timid adversaries
have hitherto proved abortive--so far I have borne down all opposition,
and those (even some of the greatest of them) who not long since were my
most open, as well as secret enemies, I now behold with the most
princely pleasure, the earliest to attend, to congratulate me on my
birthday, tho' uninvited, bow down, and make the most submissive
congees. Have you not seen this, Mocklaw? and how I keep them in
expectation of something, by now and then bestowing part of a gracious
smile amongst a dozen of them?
MOCKLAW. I have, my Lord, and no doubt they interpret that as a
favourable omen;--however, policy, my Lord, would dictate that to you,
if there were no other consideration.
PARAMOUNT. True, and yet they are cursedly mistaken--and now, Mocklaw,
as I have ever found you to be well dispos'd towards me, and the cause I
espouse, and as I trust you continue satisfy'd with my former bounty,
and my promise now of granting you a pension for life, with liberty to
retire, I shall make you my confident, and disclose to you a secret no
man except myself yet knows, which I expect you have so much honour to
let it remain a secret to all the world (I mean as to the main point I
have in view).
MOCKLAW. Depend upon it, my Lord, I am sincerely devoted to your
Lordship, command me, I care not what it is, I'll screw, twist and
strain the law as tight as a drumhead, to serve you.
PARAMOUNT. I shall at this time but just give you a hint of the plan
I've drawn up in my own mind. You must have perceived in me a secret
hankering for majesty for some time past, notwithstanding my age;--but
as I have considered the great dislike the nation in general have, as to
my person, I'll wave my own pretensions, and bend my power and assiduity
to it in favour of one, the nearest a kin to me, you know who I mean,
and a particular friend of yours, provided I continue to be dictator,
as at present; and further, I intend America shall submit. What think
you of it so far?
MOCKLAW. A day I've long wish'd to see! but you stagger me, my Lord, not
as to my honour, secrecy, or resolution to serve you, but as to the
accomplishment of such grand designs.
PARAMOUNT. 'Tis true, I have undertaken a mighty task, a task that would
have perplexed the Council of Nice, and stagger'd even Julius
Cæsar--but--
MOCKLAW. You have need, my Lord, of all your wisdom, fortitude and
power, when you consider with whom you have to contend--Let me see--Lord
Wisdom--Lord Religion--Lord Justice--Lord Patriot--the bold Irishman,
&c., &c., &c., and the wisdom of the United Colonies of America in
Congress to cope with; as individuals they are trifling, but in league
combined may become potent enemies.
PARAMOUNT. Granted--But are you so little of a lawyer as not to know the
virtue of a certain specific I'm possess'd of, that will accomplish any
thing, even to performing miracles? Don't you know there's such sweet
music in the shaking of the treasury keys, that they will instantly lock
the most babbling patriot's tongue? transform a Tory into a Whig, and a
Whig into a Tory? make a superannuated old miser dance, and an old Cynic
philosopher smile. How many thousand times has your tongue danc'd at
Westminster Hall to the sound of such music?
MOCKLAW. Enchanting sounds, powerful magic, there's no withstanding the
charms of such music, their potency and influence are irresistible--that
is a point of law I can by no means give up, of more force than all the
acts of parliament since the days of King Alfred.
PARAMOUNT. I'm glad you acknowledge that--Now then for a line of
politics--I propose to begin first by taxing America, as a blind--that
will create an eternal animosity between us, and by sending over
continually ships and troops, this will, of course, produce a civil
war--weaken Britain by leaving her coasts defenseless, and impoverish
America; so that we need not fear any thing from that quarter. Then the
united fleets of France and Spain with troops to appear in the channel,
and make a descent, while my kinsman with thirty thousand men lands in
Scotland, marches to London, and joins the others: What then can prevent
the scheme from having the wish'd for effect? This is the main point,
which keep to yourself.
MOCKLAW. If it has failed heretofore, 'tis impossible it should fail
now; nothing within the reach of human wisdom was ever planned so
judiciously; had Solomon been alive, and a politician, I would have
sworn your Lordship had consulted him.--But I would beg leave to hint to
your Lordship the opposition to be apprehended from the militia of
England, and the German forces that may be sent for according to treaty.
PARAMOUNT. As to the militia, they are half of them my friends, witness
Lancaster, Manchester, Liverpool, &c., &c., &c., the other half scarce
ever fired a gun in their lives, especially those of London; and I shall
take care by shaking the keys a little to have such officers appointed
over them, who are well known to be in my interest. As to the German
forces, I have nothing to apprehend from them; the parliament can soon
pass an act against the introduction of foreign troops, except the
French or Spaniards, who can't be called foreign, they are our friends
and nearest neighbours. Have you any thing further to object against the
probability of this plan?
MOCKLAW. Nothing, my Lord, but the people of Ireland, who must be
cajoled or humbugg'd.
PARAMOUNT. As to that, let me alone, I shall grant the Roman Catholics,
who are by far the most numerous, the free exercise of their religion,
with the liberty of bearing arms, so long unjustly deprived of, and
disarm in due time all the Protestants in their turn.
MOCKLAW. That will be a noble stroke, the more I consider it, the more
I'm surpris'd at your Lordship's profound wisdom and foresight: I think
success is certain.
PARAMOUNT. Then this is the favourable crisis to attempt it; 'tis not
the thought of a day, a month, or a year. Have you any more objections?
MOCKLAW. I have one more, my Lord--
PARAMOUNT. Well, pray let's hear it; these lawyers will be heard.
MOCKLAW. The Bishops and Clergy are a powerful, numerous body; it would
be necessary, my Lord, to gain them over, or keep them silent--A
religious war is the worst of wars.
PARAMOUNT. You are very right, I have 'em fast enough--Mammon will work
powerfully on them--The keys--the keys--His Grace my Lord of Suffolk is
managing this business for me, and feeding them with the hopes of being
all created Archbishops here, and each to have a diocese, and Bishops
of their own appointment in America; not a city or town there but must
be provided with a Bishop: There let religion erect her holy altars, by
which means their revenues will be augmented beyond that of a Cardinal.
All this we must make 'em believe.
MOCKLAW. True, my Lord, what is a Bishop without faith? This is the
grandest stroke of religious circumvention that ever was struck.--I've
done, my Lord.
PARAMOUNT. Very well, you'll not fail to meet the privy council here
this evening; in the mean time you'll go and search the statutes for
other precedents to strengthen the cause; and remember I have enjoin'd
you to secrecy.
MOCKLAW. Depend upon it, my Lord, I cannot prove ungrateful to your
Lordship, nor such an enemy to myself.
[_Exit MOCKLAW._
SCENE III. LORD PARAMOUNT [_solus_].
This Mocklaw is a cursed knowing dog, and I believe the father of
Brazen; how readily he found an old act of parliament to my purpose, as
soon as I told him I would make it worth his study; and the thoughts of
a pension will make him search his old worm-eaten statute books from the
reign of King Arthur down to this present time; how he raises objections
too to make me think his mind is ever bent on study to serve me. The
shaking of the treasury keys is a fine bait. [_Rings the bell._]
Charters, magna chartas, bill of rights, acts of assembly, resolves of
congresses, trials by juries (and acts of parliament too) when they make
against us, must all be annihilated; a suspending power I approve of,
and of royal proclamations.
[_Enter CHARLEY._
CHARLEY. I wait your Lordship's orders.
PARAMOUNT. Write a number of cards, and see that the Lords of the privy
council, and Mr. Judas, be summoned to give their attendance this
evening at six o'clock, at my Pandemonium.
CHARLEY. I'm gone, my Lord.
[_Exit CHARLEY._
PARAMOUNT [_solus_].
How do we shew our authority? how do we maintain the royal prerogative?
keep in awe the knowing ones of the opposite party, and blind the eyes
of the ignorant multitude in Britain? Why, by spirited measures, by an
accumulation of power, of deception, and the shaking of the keys, we
may hope to succeed, should that fail, I'll enforce them with the
pointed bayonet; the Americans from one end to the other shall submit,
in spite of all opposition; I'll listen to no overtures of
reconciliation from any petty self-constituted congress, they shall
submit implicitly to such terms as I of my royal indulgence please to
grant. I'll shew them the impudence and weakness of their resolves, and
the strength of mine; I will never soften; my inflexibility shall stand
firm, and convince them the second Pharaoh is at least equal to the
first. I am unalterably determined at every hazard and at the risk of
every consequence to compel the colonies to absolute submission. I'll
draw in treasure from every quarter, and, Solomon-like, wallow in
riches; and Scotland, my dear Scotland, shall be the paradise of the
world. Rejoice in the name of Paramount, and the sound of a bawbee shall
be no more heard in the land of my nativity.--
SCENE IV.
_Enter CHARLEY in haste._
CHARLEY. My Lord, the notices are all served.
PARAMOUNT. It's very well, Charley.
CHARLEY. My Lord, be pleased to turn your eyes, and look out of the
window, and see the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, Common Council and Liverymen
going to St. James's with the address.
PARAMOUNT. Where? Sure enough--Curse their impudence; how that squinting
scoundrel swells with importance--Mind, Charley, how fond he is of
bowing to the gaping multitude, and ev'ry upstart he sees at a window--I
hope he'll not turn his blear eyes t'wards me--I want none of his bows,
not I--Stand before me, Charley--
CHARLEY. I will, my Lord, and if he looks this way, I'll give him such a
devilish grin as best suits such fellows as him, and make him remember
it as long as he lives.
PARAMOUNT. Do so, Charley; I hate the dog mortally, I religiously hate
him, and hope ere long to have satisfaction for his insolence and the
freedoms he has taken with me and my connections: I shall never forget
the many scandalous verses, lampoons and pasquinades he made upon us.
CHARLEY. Indeed, he has used your Lordship too ill ever to be forgotten
or forgiven.
PARAMOUNT. Damn him, I never intend to do either--See again how he
bows--there again--how the mob throw up their hats, split their throats;
how they huzza too; they make a mere god of the fellow; how they idolize
him--Ignorant brutes!
CHARLEY. A scoundrel; he has climb'd up the stilts of preferment
strangely, my Lord.
PARAMOUNT. Strangely, indeed; but it's our own faults.
CHARLEY. He has had better luck than honester folks; I'm surpris'd to
think he has ever rose to the honour of presenting a remonstrance, or
rather, that he could ever have the impudence to think of remonstrating.
PARAMOUNT. Aye, Charley, you see how unaccountably things turn out; his
audacity is unparalleled--a Newgate dog.
CHARLEY. My Lord, I believe the fellow was never known to blush; and,
indeed, it's an observation I made some time ago, and I believe a just
one, without an exception, that those who squint never blush.
PARAMOUNT. You must be mistaken, Charley.
CHARLEY. No, my Lord, it's a fact, I had an uncle squinted exactly like
him, who was guilty of many scandalous things, and yet all the parish,
with the parson at their head, could not make him blush, so that at last
he became a by-word--Here comes old shame-the-devil; this dog is the
very spawn of him.
PARAMOUNT. Hoot, mon, ye give your uncle a shocking character.
CHARLEY. I only mention it, my Lord, for the similarity's sake.
PARAMOUNT. For the spawn of him, and the similarity's sake, I'm apt to
think you've been abusing your own cousin all this while.
CHARLEY. God forbid, my Lord, I should be any how allied to him.
PARAMOUNT. I fancy, Charley, if the truth was known, your uncle did not
mention you in his will, and forgot to leave you the mansion-house and
farm at Gallows-hill. Am I right, Charley?
CHARLEY. You're right, my Lord, upon my honour--but--
PARAMOUNT. I thought so--Well, never mind--Ha, ha, ha, who are those two
fat fellows there, that go in such state?
CHARLEY. I suppose them to be a couple of Livery Tallow-chandlers, my
Lord, by their big bellies.
PARAMOUNT. Ha, ha,--what work the guards would make amongst them--but
they must not be called yet.--And who are those other two behind 'em?
CHARLEY. This is Mr. Hone, and the other Mr. Strap, a couple of the
Corporation Barbers, forsooth.
PARAMOUNT. Ha, ha, ha, I thought they had been a couple of Dukes;--and
that one--who is he with the monstrous wig?
CHARLEY. That is Mr. Alderman Pipeshank, in Newgate-street.
PARAMOUNT. A parcel of Newgate dogs altogether--Well it is a good deal
of satisfaction to me to think how this fellow will be received at St.
James's; he'll not return back so pleas'd as he seems to be now, I
warrant you--I have taken care he shall meet with a d----d cold
reception there; he will have to make his appearance before Lord
Frostyface, Lord Scarecrow, Lord Sneerwell, Lord Firebrand, Lord
Mawmouth, Lord Waggonjaws, Lord Gripe, Lord Brass, Lord Surly and Lord
Tribulation, as hard-fac'd fellows as himself; and the beauty of it is,
not one of them loves him a whit more than I do.
CHARLEY. That will be rare diversion for them that are present; he'll
look then, my Lord, like Sampson making sport for the Philistines.
PARAMOUNT. Aye, but I wish he was as blind too, as Sampson was.--Well
Charley, we have been dispos'd to be a little merry with this ridiculous
parade, this high life below stairs. I wish you had begun your
description a little sooner, before they were all gone; the looks of
these wiseacres afford us some mirth, tho' we despise them and their
politics, and it's not unlikely it may end in blood--Be it so, I'm
prepar'd for the worst.
CHARLEY. Rather so, my Lord, than submit to such rascals.
PARAMOUNT. I'll give up my life first for a sacrifice.
[_Exit CHARLEY._
SCENE V.
_Enter MOCKLAW, POLTRON, HYPOCRITE, CATSPAW, BRAZEN, JUDAS._ [_All
seated._]
PARAMOUNT. My Lords and Gentlemen, it seems opposition to our measures
are making hasty strides; the discontented faction, the supporters and
encouragers of rebellion, and whole hearts are tainted therewith, seem
bent, if possible, on the destruction of Britain, and their own
aggrandisement. Are not the daily papers filled with treasonable
resolves of American congresses and committees, extracts of letters,
and other infamous pieces and scurrilous pamphlets, circulating with
unusual industry throughout the kingdom, by the enemies of Britain,
thereby poisoning the minds of our liege subjects with their detestable
tenets?--And did you not this day see the procession, and that vile
miscreant Lord Patriot at their head, going to St. James's with their
remonstrance, in such state and parade as manifestly tended to provoke,
challenge and defy majesty itself, and the powers of government? and yet
nothing done to stop their pernicious effects.--Surely, my Lords and
Gentlemen, you must agree with me, that it is now become highly
expedient that an immediate stop should be put to such unwarrantable and
dangerous proceedings, by the most vigorous and coercive measures.
MOCKLAW. I entirely agree with your Lordship, and was ever firmly of
opinion, that licentiousness of every kind (particularly that of the
Press) is dangerous to the state; the rabble should be kept in awe by
examples of severity, and a proper respect should be enforced to
superiors. I have sufficiently shewn my dislike to the freedom of the
Press, by the examples I have frequently made (tho' too favourable) of
several Printers, and others, who had greatly trespassed, and if they
still persist, other measures should be taken with them, which the laws
will point out; and as to Lord Patriot, he's a fellow that has been
outlaw'd, scandal-proof, little to be got by meddling with him; I would
advise to let him alone for the present, and humble America first.
MR. BRAZEN. I am very clear in it, please your Lordship; there are
numbers of men in this country who are ever studying how to perplex and
entangle the state, constantly thwarting government, in ev'ry laudable
undertaking; this clamorous faction must be curbed, must be subdued and
crush'd--our thunder must go forth, America must be conquered. I am for
blood and fire to crush the rising glories of America--They boast of her
strength; she must be conquered, if half of Germany is called to our
assistance.
MR. POLTRON. I entirely agree with you, Mr. Brazen; my advice is, that
Lord Boston and Admiral Tombstone be immediately despatch'd to Boston,
with two or three regiments (tho' one would be more than sufficient) and
a few ships to shut up their ports, disannul their charter, stop their
trade, and the pusillanimous beggars, those scoundrel rascals, whose
predominant passion is fear, would immediately give up, on the first
landing of the regulars, and fly before 'em like a hare before the
hounds; that this would be the case, I pawn my honour to your Lordships,
nay, I'll sacrifice my life: My Lords, I have moreover the testimony of
General Amherst and Colonel Grant to back my assertion; besides, here's
Mr. Judas, let him speak.
LORD HYPOCRITE. If this is the same Colonel Grant that was at Fort
Duquesne, the same that ran away from the French and Indians, the same
that was rescued by Colonel Washington, I have no idea of his honour or
testimony.
LORD POLTRON. He's a Gentleman, my Lord Hypocrite, of undoubted
veracity.
LORD HYPOCRITE. You might as well have said courage too, I have
exceptions against both; and as to General Amherst's assertion that he
could drive all America with five thousand men, he must have been
joking, as he is quite of a diff'rent opinion now.
LORD CATSPAW. What is your opinion of your countrymen, Mr. Judas, with
respect to their courage?
JUDAS. The same that I have ever told you, my Lord; as to true courage
they have none, I know 'em well--they have a plenty of a kind of
enthusiastic zeal, which they substitute in the room of it; I am very
certain they would never face the regulars, tho' with the advantage of
ten to one.
LORD HYPOCRITE. All this, and a great deal more, would never convince me
of the general cowardice of the Americans--but of the cowardice of Grant
I've been long convinced, by numbers of letters formerly from
America--I'm for doing the business effectually; don't let us be too
sanguine, trust to stories told by every sycophant, and hurry heels over
head to be laugh'd at; the Americans are bold, stubborn, and sour; it
will require foreign assistance to subdue 'em.
LORD CATSPAW. These four Americans, ignorant brutes, unbroke and wild,
must be tamed; they'll soon be humble if punish'd; but if disregarded,
grow fierce.--Barbarous nations must be held by fear, rein'd and spurr'd
hard, chain'd to the oar, and bow'd to due control, till they look grim
with blood; let's first humble America, and bring them under our feet;
the olive-branch has been held out, and they have rejected it; it now
becomes us to use the iron rod to break their disobedience; and should
we lack it, foreign assistance is at hand.
LORD HYPOCRITE. All this I grant, but I'm for sending a force sufficient
to crush 'em at once, and not with too much precipitation; I am first
for giving it a colour of impartiality, forbearance and religion.--Lay
it before parliament; we have then law on our side, and endeavour to
gain over some or all of the Methodist Teachers, and in particular my
very good friend Mr. Wesley, their Bishop, and the worthy Mr. Clapum,
which task I would undertake; it will then have the sanction of
religion, make it less suspected, and give it a better grace.
LORD CATSPAW. I should choose it to be done by consent of parliament; we
stand then on firmer ground; there's no doubt they'll grant ev'ry thing
your Lordship proposes upon my motion: but to tell the truth, I'd rather
be in Purgatory so long, than to run the gauntlet of the Bold Irishman's
tongue.
MOCKLAW. Aye, aye, don't part with the law while it's in our favour, or
we can have it by asking for--and as to the Bold Irishman, don't be
brow-beaten, you must summon all your brass, and put on a rugged
highwayman's face like his; I expect some work of that kind too, but the
devil himself sha'n't browbeat me.
PARAMOUNT. I am glad to find, my Lords and Gentlemen, you all see the
necessity of sending over troops and ships; I intend my Lord Catspaw
shall lay it before parliament, and am very certain they'll pass any
acts I can desire. I thank you, Lord Hypocrite, for your kind offer, and
accept of it; my Lord of Suffolk is negotiating the same business with
the rest of my Lords the Bishops, and will succeed; so that it will
carry the appearance of law, of religion, and will be sufficiently
grac'd; I'll warrant you no one shall have cause to complain of its
wanting grace. And now, my Lords and Gentlemen, as it's so late, and we
have gone through all the business at this time proposed, you are at
your liberty to withdraw.
[_Exeunt._
PARAMOUNT [_solus_].
The fate of England and America is now fixed, irrevocably fixed; the
storm is ready to burst; the low'ring clouds portend their fate my
glory, their fall my triumph--But I must haste to be gone, the
ceremonies await my presence; deeds of darkness must be done by night,
and, like the silent mole's work, under ground:
_Now rushing forth in sober twilight gray,
Like prowling wolf, who ranges for his prey._
[_Exit._
ACT II.
SCENE I.
LORD WISDOM, LORD RELIGION, LORD JUSTICE.
LORD WISDOM.
I much lament, my Lords, the present unhappy situation of my country;
where e'er I turn mine eyes, to Europe, Asia, Africa, or America, the
prospect appears the same--Look up to the throne, and behold your king,
if I may now call him by that soft title--Where is the wisdom, the
justice, the religion, that once adorn'd that throne, and shed the
benign influence of their bright rays thro' the four quarters of the
globe? Alas! they're flown!
Mark his forlorn looks--his countenance dejected, a sullen greatness
fixed on his brow, as if it veil'd in blood some awful purpose, his eyes
flaming and sanguinary; how I bewail you, for your predecessor's sake!
Long, long have I been an old, and I trust a faithful, servant in the
family--Can I then restrain one tear? No, 'tis impossible! View that
arch-dragon, that old fiend, Paramount, that rebel in grain, whispering
in his ear. View his wretched ministers hovering round him, to
accomplish their accursed purpose, and accelerate his destruction. View
the whole herd of administration (I know 'em well) and tell me if the
world can furnish a viler set of miscreants? View both houses of
parliament, and count the number of Tyrants, Jacobites, Tories,
Placemen, Pensioners, Sycophants, and Panders. View the constitution, is
she not disrob'd and dismantled? is she not become like a virgin
deflower'd? View our fleets and armies commanded by bloody, murdering
butchers! View Britain herself as a sheep without a shepherd! And lastly
view America, for her virtue bleeding and for her liberty weltering in
her blood!
LORD RELIGION. Such hath, and ever will be the fate of kings, who only
listen to the voice of pleasure, thrown in their way by the sirens of
administration, which never fail to swallow them up like quicksand--like
a serpent, who charms and fascinates, bewitches and enchants with his
eye the unwary bird; witness the fatal catastrophe of Rehoboam, who
rejected the counsel of the wise and experienced, and gave up all to the
advice and guidance of young, unskilful and wicked counsellors. Had he
listen'd to you, my Lord, had he followed your advice, all, all would
have gone well--Under your auspicious administration Britain
flourished, but ever since has been on the decline and patriotism, like
religion, scarcely now more than a sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.
LORD WISDOM. My counsel has been rejected--my conciliatory plan thrown
under the table, and treated with contempt; the experience of gray hairs
called the superannuated notions of old age--my bodily infirmities--my
tottering frame--my crazy carcase, worn out in the service of my
country, and even my very crutches, have been made the subject of their
ridicule.
LORD JUSTICE. Gratitude, like religion and patriotism, are about taking
their flight, and the law of the land stands on tip-toe; the
constitution, that admirable fabric, that work of ages, the envy of the
world, is deflower'd indeed, and made to commit a rape upon her own body,
by the avaricious frowns of her own father, who is bound to protect her,
not to destroy.--Her pillars are thrown down, her capitals broke, her
pedestals demolish'd, and her foundation nearly destroy'd.--Lord
Paramount and his wretched adviser Mocklaw baffle all our efforts.--The
statutes of the land superseded by royal proclamations and dispensing
powers, &c., &c., the bloody knife to be held to the throats of the
Americans, and force them to submit to slav'ry.--Administration have
commenced bloody tyrants, and those that should protect the subject are
become their executioners; yet will I dispute with them inch by inch,
while there's a statute book left in the land. Come forth, thou grand
deceiver! I challenge thee to come forth!
LORD WISDOM. Our friends must bestir themselves once more, perhaps we
may yet turn the scale.--If the voice of religion, wisdom and justice
should fail, let us sound the trumpet of liberty and patriotism, that
will conquer them in America, I know; let us try to storm them here with
the united whole, and if by a base majority they still carry their
point, we can nevertheless wash our hands and be clean.
LORD RELIGION. From the pulpit, in the house of God, have I spoken
aloud, I have lifted up my voice like a trumpet. O Britain, how art thou
fallen! Hear now, O house of Britain, is it a small thing for you to
weary man, but will you weary your God also? In the house of Lords have
I borne my testimony: Hear now, O ye Princes, and I will yet declare in
Britain, and shew forth in America, I will not cease till I bring about
(if possible) unity, peace and concord.
LORD WISDOM. Much to be wished for; but alas! I fear it's now too late;
I foresee the tendency and consequence of those diabolical measures that
have been pursued with unrelenting fury. Britain will ruin her trade,
waste her wealth, her strength, her credit and her importance in the
scale of Europe. When a British king proves ungrateful and haughty, and
strives to be independent of his people (who are his sole support), the
people will in their turn likewise strive to be independent of him and
his myrmidons, and will be free; they will erect the anfractuous
standard of independency, and thousands and tens of thousands will flock
to it, and solace themselves under its shade.--They has often been told
of this, but affected to despise it; they know not America's strength,
they are ignorant of it; fed by the flatt'ry of every sycophant tale,
imagine themselves almighty, and able to subdue the whole world. America
will be lost to Britain forever, and will prove her downfall. America is
wise, and will shake off the galling yoke before it be rivetted on them;
they will be drove to it, and who can blame them? Who can blame a
galley-slave for making his escape?--Britain will miscarry in her vile
projects, her knight errant, her Don Quixote schemes in America: America
will resist; they are not easily to be subdued (nay, 'tis impossible);
Britain will find it a harder task than to conquer France and Spain
united, and will cost 'em more blood and treasure than a twice Seven
Years' War with those European powers; they will stand out till Britons
are tired. Britain will invite her with kind promises and open arms;
America will reject them; America will triumph, rejoice and flourish,
and become the glory of the earth; Britain will languidly hold down her
head, and become first a prey to a vile Pretender, and then be subject
to the ravagers of Europe. I love the Americans, because they love
liberty. Liberty flourishes in the wilds of America. I honour the plant,
I revere the tree, and would cherish its branches. Let us, my friends,
join hands with them, follow their example, and endeavour to support
expiring liberty in Britain; whilst I have a tongue to speak, I will
support her wherever found; while I have crutches to crawl with, I will
try to find her out, and with the voice of an archangel will demand for
a sacrifice to the nation those miscreants who have wickedly and
wantonly been the ruin of their country. O Liberty! O my Country!
LORD RELIGION. O Religion! O Virtue! whither art thou fleeing? O thou
Defender of the Faith? O ye mighty Lords and Commons! O ye deluded
Bishops, ye learned props of our unerring church, who preach up
vengeance, force and fire, instead of peace! be wise in time, lest the
Americans be driven to work out their own salvation without fear or
trembling.
[_Exeunt._
SCENE II.
LORD PATRIOT, BOLD IRISHMAN, COLONEL.
BOLD IRISHMAN.
That Brazen Lawyer,[7] that Lord Chancellor, that wou'd be, held forth
surprisingly last night, he beat the drum in your ears, brother soldier.
COLONEL. I think he did; he beat a Tatoo for us all.
LORD PATRIOT. No politicians, but lawyer politicians, it seems will go
down; if we believe him, we must all turn lawyers now, and prate away
the liberties of the nation.
COLONEL. Aye, first we must learn to rail at the clamourous faction,
disappointed politicians--ever restless--ever plotting--constantly
thwarting government, in laudable and blameable purposes.--Inconsiderable
party--inconsistent in their own politics--hostile to all government,
soured by disappointment, and urged by want--proceeding to unjustifiable
lengths--and then sound the magnanimity of a British senate, animated by
the sacred fire caught from a high-spirited people--
BOLD IRISHMAN. And the devil knows what beside--Magnanimity and sacred
fire, indeed!--Very magnanimous sounds, but pompous nothings! Why did he
not tell us where was the magnanimity of the British senate at the time
of the dispute about Falkland's Island? What sort of fire animated them
then?--Where was the high spirit of the people?--Strange sort of fire,
and strange sort of spirit, to give up to our inveterate enemies, the
Spaniards, our property unasked for, and cut our best friends and
brethren, the Americans' throats, for defending theirs against lawless
tyranny; their sacred fire became then all fume, and the strength of
their boasted spirits evaporated into invisible effluvium; the giant
then sunk sure enough spontaneously into a dwarf; and now, it seems, the
dwarf having been feeding upon smoky fire and evaporated spirits, is
endeavouring to swell himself into a giant again, like the frog in the
fable, till he bursts himself in silent thunder--But let the mighty
Philistine, the Goliath Paramount, and his oracle Mocklaw, with their
thunder bellowed from the brazen mortar-piece of a turn-coat lawyer,
have a care of the little American David!
LORD PATRIOT. Aye, indeed! America will prove a second Sampson to 'em;
they may put out his eyes for a while, but he'll pull their house down
about their ears for all that. Mr. Brazen seem'd surpris'd at the
thought of relinquishing America, and bawl'd out with the vociferation
of an old miser that had been robb'd--Relinquish America! relinquish
America! forbid it heavens! But let him and his masters take great care,
or America will save 'em the trouble, and relinquish Britain.
COLONEL. Or I'm much mistaken, Brazen says, establish first your
superiority, and then talk of negotiating.
LORD PATRIOT. That doctrine suits 'em best; just like a cowardly
pickpocket, or a bloody highwayman, knock a man down first, and then
tell him stand and deliver.
COLONEL. A just comparison, and excellent simile, by my soul! But I'm
surpris'd he did not include the Clergy among the number of professions
unfit (as he said) to be politicians.
BOLD IRISHMAN. Did you ever know a lawyer to be concerned with religion,
unless he got a fee by it? he'll take care and steer clear of that; if
it don't come in his way, he'll never break his neck over a church
bible, I warrant you--Mammon is his god--Judge Jeffereys is his
priest--Star-chamber doctrine is his creed--fire, flames and faggot,
blood, murder, halters and thund'ring cannon are the ceremonies of his
church--and lies, misrepresentations, deceit, hypocrisy and
dissimulation are the articles of his religion.
LORD PATRIOT. You make him a monster, indeed.
BOLD IRISHMAN. Not half so bad as he is, my Lord; he's following close
to the heels of that profound sage, that oracle, Mocklaw, his tutor: I
can compare the whole herd of them to nothing else but to the swine we
read of running headlong down the hill, Paramount their devil, Mocklaw
the evil spirit, and Brazen their driver.
COLONEL. And thus they'll drive liberty from out the land; but when a
brave people, like the Americans, from their infancy us'd to liberty
(not as a gift, but who inherit it as a birth-right, but not as a mess
of pottage, to be bought by, or sold to, ev'ry hungry glutton of a
minister) find attempts made to reduce them to slavery, they generally
take some desperate successful measure for their deliverance. I should
not be at all surpris'd to hear of independency proclaim'd throughout
their land, of Britain's armies beat, their fleets burnt, sunk, or
otherwise destroy'd. The same principle which Mr. Brazen speaks of, that
inspires British soldiers to fight, namely the ferment of youthful
blood, the high spirit of the people, a love of glory, and a sense of
national honour, will inspire the Americans to withstand them; to which
I may add, liberty and property.--But what is national honour? Why,
national pride.--What is national glory? Why, national nonsense, when
put in competition with liberty and property.
LORD PATRIOT. Of Britain I fear liberty has taken its farewell, the
aspiring wings of tyranny hath long hovered over, and the over-shadowing
influence of bribery hath eclips'd its rays and dark'ned its lustre; the
huge Paramount, that temporal deity, that golden calf, finds servile
wretches enough so base as to bow down, worship and adore his gilded
horns;--let 'em e'en if they will:--But as for me, tho' I should stand
alone, I would spurn the brute, were he forty-five[8] times greater than
he is; I'll administer, ere long, such an emetic to him, as shall make
the monster disgorge the forty millions yet unaccounted for, and never
shall it be said, that Patriot ever feared or truckled to him, or kept a
silent tongue when it should speak.
BOLD IRISHMAN. There I'll shake hands with you, and my tongue shall echo
in their ears, make their arched ceiling speak, the treasury bench
crack, and the great chair of their great speaker tremble, and never
will I cease lashing them, while lashing is good, or hope remains; and
when the voice of poor liberty can no longer be heard in Britain or
Hibernia, let's give Caledonia a kick with our heels, and away with the
goddess to the American shore, crown her, and defy the grim king of
tyranny, at his peril, to set his foot there.--Here let him stay, and
wallow in sackcloth and ashes, like a beast as he is, and,
Nebuchadnezzar-like, eat grass and thistles.
[_Exeunt._
_See Paramount, upon his awful throne,
Striving to make each freeman's purse his own!
While Lords and Commons most as one agree,
To grace his head with crown of tyranny.
They spurn the laws,--force constitution locks,
To seize each subject's coffer, chest and box;
Send justice packing, as tho' too pure unmix'd,
And hug the tyrant, as if by law he's fix'd._
FOOTNOTES:
[7] See Wedderburne's Speech.
[8] Alluding to North-Briton, Number forty-five.
ACT III.
SCENE I. _In Boston._
SELECTMAN, CITIZEN.
SELECTMAN.
At length, it seems, the bloody flag is hung out, the ministry and
parliament, ever studious in mischief, and bent on our destruction, have
ordered troops and ships of war to shut our ports, and starve us into
submission.
CITIZEN. And compel us to be slaves; I have heard so. It is a
fashionable way to requite us for our loyalty, for the present we made
them of Louisburg, for our protection at Duquesne, for the assistance we
gave them at Quebec, Martinico, Guadaloupe and the Havannah. Blast their
councils, spurn their ingratitude! Soul of Pepperel! whither art thou
fled?
SELECTMAN. They seem to be guided by some secret demon; this stopping
our ports and depriving us of all trade is cruel, calculated to starve
and beggar thousands of families, more spiteful than politic, more to
their own disadvantage than ours: But we can resolve to do without
trade; it will be the means of banishing luxury, which has ting'd the
simplicity and spotless innocence of our once happy asylum.
CITIZEN. We thank heaven, we have the necessaries of life in abundance,
even to an exuberant plenty; and how oft have our hospitable tables fed
numbers of those ungrateful monsters, who would now, if they could,
famish us?
SELECTMAN. No doubt, as we abound in those temporal blessings, it has
tempted them to pick our pockets by violence, in hopes of treasures more
to their minds.
CITIZEN. In that these thirsters after gold and human blood will be
disappointed. No Perus or Mexicos here they'll find; but the demon you
speak of, tho' he acts in secret, is notoriously known. Lord Paramount
is that demon, that bird of prey, that ministerial cormorant, that waits
to devour, and who first thought to disturb the repose of America; a
wretch, no friend to mankind, who acts thro' envy and avarice, like
Satan, who 'scap'd from hell to disturb the regions of paradise; after
ransacking Britain and Hibernia for gold, the growth of hell, to feed
his luxury, now waits to rifle the bowels of America.
SELECTMAN. May he prove more unsuccessful than Satan; blind politics,
rank infatuation, madness detestable, the concomitants of arbitrary
power! They can never think to succeed; but should they conquer, they'll
find that he who overcometh by force and blood, hath overcome but half
his foe. Capt. Preston's massacre is too recent in our memories; and if
a few troops dar'd to commit such hellish unprovok'd barbarities, what
may we not expect from legions arm'd with vengeance, whose leaders
harbour principles repugnant to freedom, and possess'd with more than
diabolical notions? Surely our friends will oppose them with all the
power heaven has given them.
CITIZEN. Nothing more certain; each citizen and each individual
inhabitant of America are bound by the ties of nature; the laws of God
and man justify such a procedure; passive obedience for passive slaves,
and non-resistance for servile wretches who know not, neither deserve,
the sweets of liberty. As for me and my house, thank God, such
detestable doctrine never did, nor ever shall, enter over my threshold.
SELECTMAN. Would all America were so zealous as you.--The appointment of
a general Continental Congress was a judicious measure, and will prove
the salvation of this new world, where counsel mature, wisdom and
strength united; it will prove a barrier, a bulwark, against the
encroachments of arbitrary power.
CITIZEN. I much approve of the choice of a congress; America is young,
she will be to it like a tender nursing mother, she will give it the
paps of virtue to suck, cherish it with the milk of liberty, and fatten
it on the cream of patriotism; she will train it up in its youth, and
teach it to shun the poison of British voluptuousness, and instruct it
to keep better company. Let us, my friend, support her all in our power,
and set on foot an immediate association; they will form an
intrenchment, too strong for ministerial tyranny to o'erleap.
SELECTMAN. I am determined so to do, it may prevent the farther effusion
of blood.
SCENE II.
_Enter a MINISTER._
MINISTER.
My friends, I yet will hail you good morrow, tho' I know not how long we
may be indulg'd that liberty to each other; doleful tidings I have to
tell.
SELECTMAN. With sorrow we have heard it, good morrow, sir.
MINISTER. Wou'd to God it may prove false, and that it may vanish like
the dew of the morning.
CITIZEN. Beyond a doubt, sir, it's too true.
MINISTER. Perhaps, my friends, you have not heard all.
SELECTMAN. We have heard too much, of the troops and ships coming over,
we suppose you mean; we have not heard more, if more there be.
MINISTER. Then worse I have to tell, tidings which will raise the blood
of the patriot, and put your virtue to the proof, will kindle such an
ardent love of liberty in your breasts, as time will not be able to
exterminate--
CITIZEN. Pray, let us hear it, I'm all on fire.
SELECTMAN. I'm impatient to know it, welcome or unwelcome.
MINISTER. Such as it is, take it; your charter is annihilated; you are
all, all declared rebels; your estates are to be confiscated; your
patrimony to be given to those who never labour'd for it; popery to be
established in the room of the true catholic faith; the Old South, and
other houses of our God, converted perhaps into nunneries, inquisitions,
barracks and common jails, where you will perish with want and famine,
or suffer an ignominious death; your wives, children, dearest relations
and friends forever separated from you in this world, without the
prospect of receiving any comfort or consolation from them, or the least
hope of affording any to them.
SELECTMAN. Perish the thought!
CITIZEN. I've heard enough!--To arms! my dear friends, to arms! and
death or freedom be our motto!
MINISTER. A noble resolution! Posterity will crown the urn of the
patriot who consecrates his talents to virtue and freedom; his name
shall not be forgot; his reputation shall bloom with unfading verdure,
while the name of the tyrant, like his vile body, shall moulder in the
dust. Put your trust in the Lord of hosts, he is your strong tower, he
is your helper and defense, he will guide and strengthen the arm of
flesh, and scatter your enemies like chaff.
SELECTMAN. Let us not hesitate.
CITIZEN. Not a single moment;--'tis like to prove a mortal strife, a
never-ending contest.
MINISTER. Delays may be dangerous.--Go and awake your brethren that
sleep;--rouse them up from their lethargy and supineness, and join,
with confidence, temporal with spiritual weapons. Perhaps they be now
landing, and this moment, this very moment, may be the last of your
liberty. Prepare yourselves--be ready--stand fast--ye know not the day
nor the hour. May the Ruler of all send us liberty and life. Adieu! my
friends.
[_Exeunt._
SCENE III. _In a street in Boston._
_Frequent town-meetings and consultations amongst the
inhabitants;--LORD BOSTON arrives with the forces and ships;--lands
and fortifies Boston._
_WHIG and TORY._
WHIG. I have said and done all that man could say or do.--'Tis wrong, I
insist upon it, and time will show it, to suffer them to take possession
of Castle William and fortify Boston Neck.
TORY. I cannot see, good sir, of what advantage it will be to
them;--they've only a mind, I suppose, to keep their soldiers from being
inactive, which may prejudice their health.
WHIG. I wish it may prove so, I would very gladly confess your superior
knowledge in military manoeuvres; but till then, suffer me to tell you,
it's a stroke the most fatal to us,--no less, sir, but to cut off the
communication between the town and country, making prisoners of us all
by degrees, and give 'em an opportunity of making excursions, and in a
short time subdue us without resistance.
TORY. I think your fears are groundless.
WHIG. Sir, my reason is not to be trifled with. Do you not see or hear
ev'ry day of insults and provocations to the peaceable inhabitants? This
is only a prelude. Can men of spirit bear forever with such usage? I
know not what business they have here at all.
TORY. I suppose they're come to protect us.
WHIG. Damn such protectors, such cut-throat villains; protect us? from
what? from whom?--
TORY. Nay, sir, I know not their business;--let us yet bear with them
till we know the success of the petition from the Congress;--if
unfavourable, then it will be our time.
WHIG. Then, I fear, it will be too late; all that time we lose, and they
gain ground; I have no notion of trusting to the success of petitions,
waiting twelve months for no answer at all. Our assemblies have
petitioned often, and as often in vain; 't would be a miracle in these
days to hear of an American petition being granted; their omnipotences,
their demi-godships (as they think themselves) no doubt think it too
great a favour done us to throw our petitions under their table, much
less vouchsafe to read them.
TORY. You go too far;--the power of King, Lords and Commons is
uncontroulable.
WHIG. With respect to tyrannising they would make it so, if they could,
I know, but there's a good deal to be said and done first; we have more
than half the bargain to make.
TORY. Sure you would not go to dispute by arms with Great-Britain.
WHIG. Sure I would not suffer you to pick my pocket, sir.
TORY. If I did, the law is open for you--
WHIG. I have but a poor opinion of law, when the devil sits judge.
TORY. What would you do then, sir, if I was to pick your pocket?
WHIG. Break your head, sir--
TORY. Sure you don't mean as you say, sir--
WHIG. I surely do--try me, sir--
TORY. Excuse me, sir, I am not of your mind, I would avoid every thing
that has the appearance of rashness.--Great-Britain's power, sir--
WHIG. Great-Britain's power, sir, is too much magnified, 't will soon
grow weak, by endeavouring to make slaves of American freemen; we are
not Africans yet, neither bond-slaves.--You would avoid and discourage
every thing that has the appearance of patriotism, you mean.--
TORY. Who? me, sir?
WHIG. Yes, you, sir;--you go slyly pimping, spying and sneaking about,
cajoling the ignorant, and insinuating bugbear notions of
Great-Britain's mighty power into weak people's ears, that we may tamely
give all up, and you be rewarded, perhaps, with the office of judge of
the admiralty, or continental hangman, for ought I know.
TORY. Who? me, sir?
WHIG. Aye, you, sir;--and let me tell you, sir, you've been long
suspected--
TORY. Of what, sir?
WHIG. For a rank Tory, sir.
TORY. What mean you, sir?
WHIG. I repeat it again--suspected to be an enemy to your country.
TORY. By whom, sir? Can you show me an instance?
WHIG. From your present discourse I suspect you--and from your
connections and artful behaviour all suspect you.
TORY. Can you give me a proof?
WHIG. Not a point blank proof, as to my own knowledge; you're so much of
a Jesuit, you have put it out of my power;--but strong circumstances by
information, such as amount to a proof in the present case, sir, I can
furnish you with.
TORY. Sir, you may be mistaken.
WHIG. 'Tis not possible, my informant knows you too well.
TORY. Who is your informant, sir?
WHIG. A gentleman, sir; and if you'll give yourself the trouble to walk
with me, I'll soon produce him.
TORY. Another time; I cannot stay now;--'tis dinner time.
WHIG. That's the time to find him.
TORY. I cannot stay now.
WHIG. We'll call at your house then.
TORY. I dine abroad, sir.
WHIG. Be gone, you scoundrel! I'll watch your waters; 'tis time to clear
the land of such infernal vermin.
[_Exeunt both different ways._
SCENE IV. _In Boston, while the Regulars were flying from Lexington._
_LORD BOSTON surrounded by his guards and a few officers._
LORD BOSTON. If Colonel Smith succeeds in his embassy, and I think
there's no doubt of it, I shall have the pleasure this ev'ning, I
expect, of having my friends Hancock and Adams's good company; I'll make
each of them a present of a pair of handsome iron ruffles, and Major
Provost shall provide a suitable entertainment for them in his
apartment.
OFFICER. Sure they'll not be so unpolite as to refuse your Excellency's
kind invitation.
LORD BOSTON. Shou'd they, Colonel Smith and Major Pitcairn have my
orders to make use of all their rhetoric and the persuasive eloquence of
British thunder.
_Enter a MESSENGER in haste._
MESSENGER. I bring your Excellency unwelcome tidings--
LORD BOSTON. For heaven's sake! from what quarter?
MESSENGER. From Lexington plains.
LORD BOSTON. 'Tis impossible!
MESSENGER. Too true, sir.
LORD BOSTON. Say--what is it? Speak what you know.
MESSENGER. Colonel Smith is defeated, and fast retreating.
LORD BOSTON. Good God!--What does he say? Mercy on me!
MESSENGER. They're flying before the enemy.
LORD BOSTON. Britons turn their backs before the Rebels!--The Rebels put
Britons to flight?--Said you not so?
MESSENGER. They are routed, sir;--they are flying this instant;--the
Provincials are numerous, and hourly gaining strength;--they have nearly
surrounded our troops. A reinforcement, sir--a timely succour may save
the shatter'd remnant Speedily! speedily, sir! or they're irretrievably
lost!
LORD BOSTON. Good God! What does he say? Can it be possible?
MESSENGER. Lose no time, sir.
LORD BOSTON. What can I do?--Oh dear!
OFFICER. Draw off a detachment--form a brigade; prepare part of the
train; send for Lord Percy; let the drums beat to arms.
LORD BOSTON. Aye, do, Captain; you know how, better than I. (_Exit
OFFICER._) Did the Rebels dare to fire on the king's troops? Had they
the courage? Guards, keep round me.
MESSENGER. They're like lions; they have killed many of our bravest
officers and men; and if not checked instantly, will totally surround
them, and make the whole prisoners. This is no time to parley, sir.
LORD BOSTON. No, indeed; what will become of me?
_Enter EARL PERCY._
EARL PERCY. Your orders, sir.
LORD BOSTON. Haste, my good Percy, immediately take command of the
brigade of reinforcement, and fly to the assistance of poor Smith!--Lose
no time, lest they be all cut off, and the Rebels improve their
advantage, and be upon us; and God knows what quarter they'll
give.--Haste, my noble Earl!--Speedily!--Speedily!--Where's my guard?
EARL PERCY. I'm gone, sir.
[_Exeunt PERCY and OFFICERS--drums beating to arms._
LORD BOSTON. What means this flutt'ring round my heart? this unusual
chilness? Is it fear? No, it cannot be, it must proceed from my great
anxiety, my perturbation of mind for the fate of my countrymen. A
drowsiness hangs o'er my eyelids;--fain would I repose myself a short
time;--but I must not;--I must wait;--I'll to the top of yon
eminence,--there I shall be safer. Here I cannot stay;--there I may
behold something favourable to calm this tumult in my breast.--But,
alas! I fear--Guards, attend me.
[_Exeunt LORD BOSTON and GUARDS._
SCENE V. _LORD BOSTON and GUARDS on a hill in Boston, that overlooks
Charlestown._
LORD BOSTON. Clouds of dust and smoke intercept my sight; I cannot see;
I hear the noise of cannon--Percy's cannon--Grant him success!
OFFICER OF GUARD. Methinks, sir, I see British colours waving.
LORD BOSTON. Some ray of hope.--Have they got so near?--Captain, keep a
good lookout; tell me every thing you see. My eyes are wondrous dim.
OFFICER. The two brigades have join'd--Now Admiral Tombstone bellows his
lower tier on the Provincials. How does your Excellency?
LORD BOSTON. Right;--more hope still.--I'm bravely to what I was. Which
way do our forces tend?
OFFICER. I can distinguish nothing for a certainty now; such smoke and
dust!
LORD BOSTON. God grant Percy courage!
OFFICER. His ancestors were brave, sir.
LORD BOSTON. Aye, that's no rule--no rule, Captain; so were mine.--A
heavy firing now.--The Rebels must be very numerous--
OFFICER. They're like caterpillars; as numerous as the locusts of Egypt.
LORD BOSTON. Look out, Captain, God help you, look out.
OFFICER. I do, sir.
LORD BOSTON. What do you see now? Hark! what dreadful noise!
ONE OF THE GUARD. [_Aside._] How damn'd afraid he is.
ANOTHER OF THE GUARD. [_Aside._] He's one of your chimney corner
Generals--an old granny.
OFFICER. If I mistake not, our troops are fast retreating; their fire
slackens; the noise increases.
LORD BOSTON. Oh, Captain, don't say so!
OFFICER. 'Tis true, sir, they're running--the enemy shout victory.
LORD BOSTON. Upon your honour?--say--
OFFICER. Upon my honour, sir, they're flying t'wards Charlestown.
Percy's beat;--I'm afraid he's lost his artillery.
LORD BOSTON. Then 'tis all over--the day is lost--what more can we do?
OFFICER. We may, with the few troops left in Boston, yet afford them
some succour, and cover their retreat across the water; 'tis impossible
to do more.
LORD BOSTON. Go instantly; I'll wait your return. Try your utmost to
prevent the Rebels from crossing. Success attend you, my dear Captain,
God prosper you! [_Exit OFFICER._] Alas! alas! my glory's gone; my
honour's stain'd. My dear guards, don't leave me, and you shall have
plenty of porter and sour-crout.
SCENE VI. _ROGER and DICK, two shepherds near Lexington, after the
defeat and flight of the Regulars._
ROGER. Whilst early looking, Dick, ere the sun was seen to tinge the
brow of the mountain, for my flock of sheep, nor dreaming of approaching
evil, suddenly mine eyes beheld from yon hill a cloud of dust arise at a
small distance; the intermediate space were thick set with laurels,
willows, evergreens, and bushes of various kinds, the growth of wild
nature, and which hid the danger from my eyes, thinking perchance my
flock had thither stray'd; I descended, and straight onward went; but,
Dick, judge you my thoughts at such a disappointment: Instead of my
innocent flock of sheep, I found myself almost encircled by a herd of
ravenous British wolves.
DICK. Dangerous must have been your situation, Roger, whatever were your
thoughts.
ROGER. I soon discovered my mistake; finding a hostile appearance, I
instantly turn'd myself about, and fled to alarm the shepherds.
DICK. Did they pursue you?
ROGER. They did; but having the start, and being acquainted with the
by-ways, I presently got clear of their voracious jaws.
DICK. A lucky escape, indeed, Roger; and what route did they take after
that?
ROGER. Onwards, t'wards Lexington, devouring geese, cattle and swine,
with fury and rage, which, no doubt, was increased by their
disappointment; and what may appear strange to you Dick (tho' no more
strange than true), is, they seem'd to be possessed of a kind of brutish
music, growling something like our favourite tune Yankee Doodle (perhaps
in ridicule), till it were almost threadbare, seeming vastly pleased
(monkey-like) with their mimickry, as tho' it provoked us much.
DICK. Nature, Roger, has furnish'd some brute animals with voices, or,
more properly speaking, with organs of sound that nearly resemble the
human. I have heard of crocodiles weeping like a child, to decoy the
unwary traveller, who is no sooner within their reach, but they seize
and devour instantly.
ROGER. Very true, Dick, I have read of the same; and these wolves, being
of the canine breed, and having the properties of blood-hounds, no doubt
are possess'd of a more acute sense of smelling, more reason, instinct,
sagacity, or what shall I call it? than all other brutes. It might have
been a piece of cunning of theirs, peculiar to them, to make themselves
pass for shepherds, and decoy our flocks; for, as you know, Dick, all
our shepherds both play and sing Yankee Doodle, our sheep and lambs are
as well acquainted with that tune as ourselves, and always make up to us
whene'er they hear the sound.
DICK. Yes, Roger; and now you put me in mind of it I'll tell you of
something surprising in my turn: I have an old ram and an old ewe, that,
whenever they sing Yankee Doodle together, a skilful musician can
scarcely distinguish it from the bass and tenor of an organ.
ROGER. Surprising indeed, Dick, nor do I in the least doubt it; and why
not, as well as Balaam's ass, speak? and I might add, many other asses,
now-a-days; and yet, how might that music be improved by a judicious
disposition of its various parts, by the addition of a proper number of
sheep and young lambs; 't would then likewise resemble the counter,
counter tenor, treble, and finest pipes of an organ, and might be truly
called nature's organ; methinks, Dick, I could forever sit and hear such
music,
_Where all the parts in complication roll,
And with its charming music feast the soul!_
DICK. Delightful, indeed; I'll attempt it with what little skill I have
in music; we may then defy these wolves to imitate it, and thereby save
our flocks: I am well convinced, Roger, these wolves intended it rather
as a decoy than by way of ridicule, because they live by cunning and
deception; besides, they could never mean to ridicule a piece of music,
a tune, of which such brutes cannot be supposed to be judges, and, which
is allowed by the best masters of music to be a composition of the most
sublime kind, and would have done honour to a Handel or a Correllius.
Well, go on, Roger, I long to hear the whole.
ROGER. When they came to Lexington, where a flock of our innocent sheep
and young lambs, as usual, were feeding and sporting on the plain, these
dogs of violence and rapine with haughty stride advanc'd, and berated
them in a new and unheard of language to us.
DICK. I suppose learn'd at their own fam'd universities--
ROGER. No doubt; they had teachers among them--two old wolves their
leaders, not unlike in features to Smith and Pitcairn, as striving to
outvie each other in the very dregs of brutal eloquence, and more than
Billingsgate jargon, howl'd in their ears such a peal of new-fangled
execrations, and hell-invented oratory, till that day unheard in
New-England, as struck the whole flock with horror, and made them for a
while stand aghast, as tho' all the wolves in the forest had broke loose
upon them.
DICK. Oh, shocking!--Roger, go on.
ROGER. Not content with this, their murdering leaders, with premeditated
malice, keen appetite, and without provocation, gave the howl for the
onset, when instantly the whole herd, as if the devil had entered into
them, ran violently down the hill, and fixed their talons and jaws upon
them, and as quick as lightning eight innocent young lambs fell a
sacrifice to their fury, and victims to their rapacity; the very houses
of our God were no longer a sanctuary; many they tore to pieces, and
some at the very foot of the altar; others were dragged out as in a
wanton, gamesome mood.
DICK. Barbarity inexpressible! more than savage cruelty! I hope you'll
make their master pay for 'em; there is a law of this province, Roger,
which obliges the owner of such dogs to pay for the mischief they do.
ROGER. I know it, Dick; he shall pay, never fear, and that handsomely
too; he has paid part of it already.
DICK. Who is their master, Roger?
ROGER. One Lord Paramount; they call him a free-booter; a fellow who
pretends to be proprietor of all America, and says he has a deed for it,
and chief ranger of all the flocks, and pretends to have a patent for
it; has been a long time in the practice of killing and stealing sheep
in England and Ireland, and had like to have been hang'd for it there,
but was reprieved by the means of his friend _George_--I forgot his
other name--not Grenville--not George the Second--but another George--
DICK. It's no matter, he'll be hang'd yet; he has sent his dogs to a
wrong place, and lugg'd the wrong sow by the ear; he should have sent
them to Newfoundland, or Kamchatka, there's no sheep there--But never
mind, go on, Roger.
ROGER. Nor was their voracious appetites satiated there; they rush'd
into the town of Concord, and proceeded to devour every thing that lay
in their way; and those brute devils, like Sampson's foxes (and as tho'
they were men), thrice attempted with firebrands to destroy our corn,
our town-house and habitations.
DICK. Heavens! Could not all this provoke you?
ROGER. It did; rage prompted us at length, and found us arms 'gainst
such hellish mischief to oppose.
DICK. Oh, would I had been there!
ROGER. Our numbers increasing, and arm'd with revenge, we in our turn
play'd the man; they, unus'd to wounds, with hideous yelling soon betook
themselves to a precipitate and confused flight, nor did we give o'er
the chase, till Phoebus grew drowsy, bade us desist, and wished us a
good night.
DICK. Of some part of their hasty retreat I was a joyful spectator, I
saw their tongues lolling out of their mouths, and heard them pant like
hunted wolves indeed.
ROGER. Did you not hear how their mirth was turn'd into mourning? their
fury into astonishment? how soon they quitted their howling Yankee
Doodle, and chang'd their notes to bellowing? how nimbly (yet against
their will) they betook themselves to dancing? And he was then the
bravest dog that beat time the swiftest, and footed Yankee Doodle the
nimblest.
DICK. Well pleased, Roger, was I with the chase, and glorious sport it
was: I oft perceiv'd them tumbling o'er each other heels over head; nor
did one dare stay to help his brother--but, with bloody breech, made the
best of his way--nor ever stopped till they were got safe within their
lurking-holes--
ROGER. From whence they have not the courage to peep out, unless four to
one, except (like a skunk) forc'd by famine.
DICK. May this be the fate of all those prowling sheep-stealers, it
behooves the shepherds to double the watch, to take uncommon precaution
and care of their tender flocks, more especially as this is like to be
an uncommon severe winter, by the appearance of wolves, so early in the
season--but, hark!--Roger, methinks I hear the sound of melody warbling
thro' the grove--Let's sit a while, and partake of it unseen.
ROGER. With all my heart.--Most delightful harmony! This is the First of
May; our shepherds and nymphs are celebrating our glorious St. Tammany's
day; we'll hear the song out, and then join in the frolic, and chorus it
o'er and o'er again--This day shall be devoted to joy and festivity.
SONG.
[TUNE. _The hounds are all out, &c._]
1.
Of _St. George_, or _St. Bute_, let the poet Laureat sing,
Of _Pharaoh_ or _Pluto_ of old,
While he rhymes forth their praise, in false, flattering lays,
I'll sing of St. Tamm'ny the bold, my brave boys.
2.
Let Hibernia's sons boast, make Patrick their toast;
And Scots Andrew's fame spread abroad.
Potatoes and oats, and Welch leeks for Welch goats,
Was never St. Tammany's food, my brave boys.
3.
In freedom's bright cause, Tamm'ny pled with applause,
And reason'd most justly from nature;
For this, this was his song, all, all the day long:
Liberty's the right of each creature, brave boys.
4.
Whilst under an oak his great parliament sat,
His throne was the crotch of the tree;
With Solomon's look, without statutes or book,
He wisely sent forth his decree, my brave boys.
5.
His subjects stood round, not the least noise or sound,
Whilst freedom blaz'd full in each face:
So plain were the laws, and each pleaded his cause;
That might _Bute_, _North_ and _Mansfield_ disgrace, my brave boys.
6.
No duties, nor stamps, their blest liberty cramps,
A king, tho' no _tyrant_, was he;
He did oft'times declare, nay, sometimes wou'd swear,
The least of his subjects were free, my brave boys.
7.
He, as king of the woods, of the rivers and floods,
Had a right all beasts to controul;
Yet, content with a few, to give nature her due:
So gen'rous was Tammany's soul! my brave boys.
8.
In the morn he arose, and a-hunting he goes,
Bold Nimrod his second was he.
For his breakfast he'd take a large venison steak,
And despis'd your slip-slops and tea, my brave boys.
9.
While all in a row, with squaw, dog and bow,
Vermilion adorning his face,
With feathery head he rang'd the woods wide:
_St. George_ sure had never such grace, my brave boys?
10.
His jetty black hair, such as Buckskin saints wear,
Perfumed with bear's grease well smear'd,
Which illum'd the saint's face, and ran down apace,
Like the oil from Aaron's old beard, my brave boys.
11.
The strong nervous deer, with amazing career,
In swiftness he'd fairly run down;
And, like Sampson, wou'd tear wolf, lion or bear.
Ne'er was such a saint as our own, my brave boys.
12.
When he'd run down a stag, he behind him wou'd lag;
For, so noble a soul had he!
He'd stop, tho' he lost it, tradition reports it,
To give him fresh chance to get free, my brave boys.
13.
With a mighty strong arm, and a masculine bow,
His arrow he drew to the head,
And as sure as he shot, it was ever his lot,
His prey it fell instantly dead, my brave boys.
14.
His table he spread where the venison bled,
Be thankful, he used to say;
He'd laugh and he'd sing, tho' a saint and a king,
And sumptuously dine on his prey, my brave boys.
15.
Then over the hills, o'er the mountains and rills
He'd caper, such was his delight;
And ne'er in his days, Indian history says,
Did lack a good supper at night, my brave boys.
16.
On an old stump he sat, without cap or hat.
When supper was ready to eat,
_Snap_, his dog, he stood by, and cast a sheep's eye
For ven'son, the king of all meat, my brave boys.
17.
Like Isaac of old, and both cast in one mould,
Tho' a wigwam was Tamm'ny's cottage,
He lov'd sav'ry meat, such that patriarchs eat,
Of ven'son and squirrel made pottage, brave boys.
18.
When fourscore years old, as I've oft'times been told,
To doubt it, sure, would not be right,
With a pipe in his jaw, he'd buss his old squaw,
And get a young saint ev'ry night, my brave boys.
19.
As old age came on, he grew blind, deaf and dumb,
Tho' his sport, 'twere hard to keep from it,
Quite tired of life, bid adieu to his wife,
And blazed like the tail of a comet, brave boys.
20.
What country on earth, then, did ever give birth
To such a magnanimous saint?
His acts far excel all that history tell,
And language too feeble to paint, my brave boys.
21.
Now, to finish my song, a full flowing bowl
I'll quaff, and sing all the long day,
And with punch and wine paint my cheeks for my saint,
And hail ev'ry First of sweet _May_, my brave boys.
DICK. What a seraphic voice! how it enlivens my soul! Come away, away,
Roger, the moments are precious.
[_Exeunt DICK and ROGER._
SCENE VII. _In a chamber, near Boston, the morning after the battle of
Bunkers-Hill._
CLARISSA. How lovely is this new-born day!--The sun rises with uncommon
radiance after the most gloomy night my wearied eyes ever knew.--The voice
of slumber was not heard--the angel of sleep was fled--and the awful
whispers of solemnity and silence prevented my eye-lids from closing.--No
wonder--the terrors and ideas of yesterday--such a scene of war--of
tumult--hurry and hubbub--of horror and destruction--the direful noise of
conflict--the dismal hissing of iron shot in volleys flying--such bellowing
of mortars--such thund'ring of cannon--such roaring of musketry--and such
clashing of swords and bayonets--such cries of the wounded--and such
streams of blood--such a noise and crush of houses, steeples, and whole
streets of desolate Charlestown falling--pillars of fire, and the convulsed
vortex of fiery flakes, rolling in flaming wreaths in the air, in dreadful
combustion, seemed as tho' the elements and whole earth were envelop'd in
one general, eternal conflagration and total ruin, and intermingled with
black smoke, ascending, on the wings of mourning, up to Heaven, seemed
piteously to implore the Almighty interposition to put a stop to such
devastation, lest the whole earth should be unpeopled in the unnatural
conflict--Too, too much for female heroism to dwell upon--But what are all
those to the terrors that filled my affrighted imagination the last
night?--Dreams--fancies--evil bodings--shadows, phantoms and ghastly
visions continually hovering around my pillow, goading and harrowing my
soul with the most terrific appearances, not imaginary, but real--Am I
awake?--Where are the British murderers?--where's my husband?--my son?--my
brother?--Something more than human tells me all is not well: If they are
among the slain, 'tis impossible.--I--Oh! [_She cries._]
_Enter a NEIGHBOUR_ [_a spectator of the battle_].
NEIGHBOUR. Madam, grieve not so much.
CLARISSA. Am I wont to grieve without a cause? Wou'd to God I did;--mock
me not--What voice is that? methinks I know it--some angel sent to
comfort me?--welcome then. [_She turns about._] Oh, my Neighbour, is it
you? My friend, I have need of comfort. Hast thou any for me?--say--will
you not speak? Where's my husband?--my son?--my brother? Hast thou seen
them since the battle? Oh! bring me not unwelcome tidings! [_Cries._]
NEIGHBOUR. [_Aside. What shall I say?_] Madam, I beheld them yesterday
from an eminence.
CLARISSA. Upon that very eminence was I. What then?--
NEIGHBOUR. I saw the brave man Warren, your son and brother.
CLARISSA. What? O ye gods!--Speak on friend--stop--what saw ye?
NEIGHBOUR. In the midst of the tempest of war--
CLARISSA. Where are they now?--That I saw too--What is all this?
NEIGHBOUR. Madam, hear me--
CLARISSA. Then say on--yet--Oh, his looks!--I fear!
NEIGHBOUR. When General Putnam bid the vanguard open their front to
the--
CLARISSA. Oh, trifle not with me--dear Neighbour!--where shall I find
them?--say--
NEIGHBOUR. [_Aside. Heavens! must I tell her!_] Madam, be patient--right
and left, that all may see who hate us, we are prepar'd for them--
CLARISSA. What then?--Can you find 'em?--
NEIGHBOUR. I saw Warren and the other two heroes firm as Roxbury stand
the shock of the enemy's fiercest attacks, and twice put to flight their
boasted phalanx.--
CLARISSA. All that I saw, and more; say--wou'd they not come to me, were
they well?--
NEIGHBOUR. Madam, hear me--
CLARISSA. Oh! he will not speak.
NEIGHBOUR. The enemy return'd to the charge, and stumbling o'er the dead
and wounded bodies of their friends, Warren received them with
indissoluble firmness, and notwithstanding their battalious aspect, in
the midst of the battle, tho' surrounded with foes on ev'ry side--
CLARISSA. Oh, my Neighbour!--
NEIGHBOUR. Madam--his nervous arm, like a giant refresh'd with wine,
hurl'd destruction where'er he came, breathing heroic ardour to
advent'rous deeds, and long time in even scale the battle hung, till at
last death turn'd pale and affrighted at the carnage--they ran--
CLARISSA. Who ran?
NEIGHBOUR. The enemy, Madam, gave way--
CLARISSA. Warren never ran--yet--oh! I wou'd he had--I fear--[_Cries._]
NEIGHBOUR. I say not so, Madam.
CLARISSA. What say ye then? he was no coward, Neighbour--
NEIGHBOUR. Brave to the last. [_Aside. I forgot myself._]
CLARISSA. What said you? O Heavens! brave to the last! those words--why
do you keep me thus?--cruel--
NEIGHBOUR. [_Aside. She will know it._] I say, Madam, by some mistaken
orders on our side, the enemy rallied and return'd to the charge with
fresh numbers, and your husband, son, and brother--Madam--
CLARISSA. Stop!--O ye powers!--What?--say no more--yet let me hear--keep
me not thus--tell me, I charge thee--
NEIGHBOUR. [_Aside. I can hold no longer, she must know it._] Forgive
me, Madam--I saw them fall--and Michael, the archangel, who vanquish'd
Satan, is not more immortal than they. [_Aside. Who can relate such woes
without a tear?_],
CLARISSA. Oh! I've heard enough--too--too much [_Cries._] yet--if thou hast
worse to tell--say on--nought worse can be--O ye gods!--cruel--cruel--
thrice cruel--cou'd ye not leave me one--[_She faints, and is caught by her
friend, and placed in a chair; he rings the bell, the family come in, and
endeavour to bring her to._]
NEIGHBOUR. With surprising fortitude she heard the melancholy relation,
until I came to the last close--she then gave me a mournful look, lifted
up her eyes, and immediately sunk motionless into my arms.
WOMAN. Poor soul!--no wonder--how I sympathize with her in her
distress--my tender bosom can scarcely bear the sight! A dreadful loss!
a most shocking scene it was, that brothers should with brothers war,
and in intestine fierce opposition meet, to seek the blood of each
other, like dogs for a bare bone, who so oft in generous friendship and
commerce join'd, in festivals of love and joy unanimous as the sons of
one kind and indulgent father, and separately would freely in a good
cause spend their blood and sacrifice their lives for him.
NEIGHBOUR. A terrible black day it was, and ever will be remembered by
New-England, when that vile Briton (unworthy the name of a Briton), Lord
Boston (curse the name!), whose horrid murders stain American soil with
blood; perish his name! a fratricide! 'twas he who fir'd Charlestown,
and spread desolation, fire, flames and smoke in ev'ry corner--he was
the wretch, that waster of the world, that licens'd robber, that
blood-stain'd insulter of a free people, who bears the name of Lord
Boston, but from henceforth shall be called Cain, that pillag'd the
ruins, and dragg'd and murder'd the infant, the aged and infirm--(But
look, she recovers.)
CLARISSA. O ye angels! ye cherubims and seraphims! waft their souls to
bliss, bathe their wounds with angelic balsam, and crown them with
immortality. A faithful, loving and beloved husband, a promising and
filial son, a tender and affectionate brother: Alas! what a loss!--Whom
have I now to comfort me?--What have I left, but the voice of
lamentation: [_She weeps._] Ill-fated bullets--these tears shall sustain
me--yes, ye dear friends! how gladly wou'd I follow you--but alas! I
must still endure tribulation and inquietudes, from which you are now
exempt; I cannot cease to weep, ye brave men, I will mourn your
fall--weep on--flow, mine eyes, and wash away their blood, till the
fountain of sorrow is dried up--but, oh! it never--never will--my
sympathetic soul shall dwell on your bosoms, and floods of tears shall
water your graves; and since all other comfort is deny'd me, deprive me
not of the only consolation left me of meditating on your virtues and
dear memories, who fell in defense of liberty and your country--ye brave
men--ye more than friends--ye martyrs to liberty!--This, this is all I
ask, till sorrow overwhelms me.--I breathe my last; and ye yourselves,
your own bright spirits, come and waft me to your peaceful abode, where
the voice of lamentation is not heard, neither shall we know any more
what it is to separate.
_Eager the patriot meets his desperate foe
With full intent to give the fatal blow;
The cause he fights for animates him high,
His wife, his children and his liberty:
For these he conquers, or more bravely dies,
And yields himself a willing sacrifice._
[_Exeunt._
ACT IV.
SCENE I. _Near Norfolk, in Virginia, on board a man-of-war, LORD
KIDNAPPER, in the state-room; a boat appears rowing towards the ship._
_SAILOR and BOATSWAIN._
SAILOR. Boatswain!
BOATSWAIN. Holla.
SAILOR. Damn my eyes, Mr. Boatswain, but here's a black flag of truce
coming on board.
BOATSWAIN. Sure enough--where are they from?
SAILOR. From hell, I suppose--for they're as black as so many devils.
BOATSWAIN. Very well--no matter--they're recruits for the Kidnapper.
SAILOR. We shall be all of a colour by and by--damn me--
BOATSWAIN. I'll go and inform his Lordship and his pair of doxies of it;
I suppose by this time they have trim'd their sails, and he's done
heaving the log.
[_Exit BOATSWAIN._
SCENE II. _Near the state-room._
BOATSWAIN. Where's his Lordship?
SERVANT. He's in the state-room.
BOATSWAIN. It's time for him to turn out; tell him I want to speak to
him.
SERVANT. I dare not do it, Boatswain; it's more than my life is worth.
BOATSWAIN. Damn your squeamish stomach, go directly, or I'll go myself.
SERVANT. For God's sake! Boatswain--
BOATSWAIN. Damn your eyes, you pimping son of a bitch, go this instant,
or I'll stick my knife in your gammons.
SERVANT. O Lord! Boatswain. [_SERVANT goes._]
BOATSWAIN [_solus_]. What the devil--keep a pimp guard here, better
station the son of a bitch at the mast head, to keep a look out there,
lest Admiral Hopkins be upon us.
_Enter KIDNAPPER._
KIDNAPPER. What's your will, Boatswain?
BOATSWAIN. I beg your Lordship's pardon [_Aside. But you can soon fetch
up Leeway, and spread the water sail again._], please your honour,
here's a boat full of fine recruits along side for you.
KIDNAPPER. Recruits, Boatswain? you mean soldiers from Augustine, I
imagine; what reg'mentals have they on?
BOATSWAIN. Mourning, please your honour, and as black as our tarpawling.
KIDNAPPER. Ha, ha, well well, take 'em on board, Boatswain, I'll be on
deck presently.
BOATSWAIN. With submission to your honour, d' ye see, [_Scratching his
head._] I think we have gallows-looking dogs enough on board
already--the scrapings of Newgate, and the refuse of Tyburn, and when
the wind blows aft, damn 'em, they stink like polecats--but d' ye see,
as your honour pleases, with submission, if it's Lord Paramount's
orders, why it must be so, I suppose--but I've done my duty, d' ye see--
KIDNAPPER. Ha, ha, the work must be done, Boatswain, no matter by whom.
BOATSWAIN. Why, aye, that's true, please your honour, any port in a
storm--if a man is to be hang'd, or have his throat cut, d' ye see--who
are so fit to do it as his own slaves? especially as they're to have
their freedoms for it; nobody can blame 'em, nor your honour neither,
for you get them for half price, or nothing at all, d' ye see me, and
that will help to lessen poor Owld England's taxes, and when you have
done with 'em here, and they get their brains knock'd out, d' ye see,
your honour can sell them in the West-Indies, and that will be something
in your honour's pocket, d' ye see--well, ev'ry man to his trade--but,
damn my impudence for all, I see your honour knows all about it--d' ye
see.
[_Exit BOATSWAIN._
SCENE III. _LORD KIDNAPPER returns to his state-room; the BOATSWAIN
comes on deck and pipes._
All hands ahoy--hand a rope, some of you Tories, forward there, for his
worship's reg'ment of black guards to come aboard.
_Enter NEGROES._
BOATSWAIN. Your humble servant, Gentlemen, I suppose you want to see
Lord Kidnapper?--Clear the gangway there of them Tyburn tulips. Please
to walk aft, brother soldiers, that's the fittest birth for you, the
Kidnapper's in the state-room, he'll hoist his sheet-anchor presently,
he'll be up in a jiffin--as soon as he has made fast the end of his
small rope athwart Jenny Bluegarter and Kate Common's stern posts.
FIRST SAILOR. Damn my eyes, but I suppose, messmate, we must bundle out
of our hammocks this cold weather, to make room for these black regulars
to stow in, tumble upon deck, and choose a soft berth among the snow?
SECOND SAILOR. Blast 'em, if they come within a cable's length of my
hammock, I'll kick 'em to hell through one of the gun ports.
BOATSWAIN. Come, come, brothers, don't be angry, I suppose we shall soon
be in a warmer latitude--the Kidnapper seems as fond of these black
regulars (as you call 'em, Jack) as he is of the brace of whores below;
but as they come in so damn'd slow, I'll put him in the humour of
sending part of the fleet this winter to the coast of Guinea, and beat
up for volunteers, there he'll get recruits enough for a hogshead or two
of New-England rum, and a few owld pipe-shanks, and save poor
Owld-England the trouble and expense of clothing them in the bargain.
FIRST SAILOR. Aye, BOATSWAIN, any voyage, so it's a warm one--if it's to
hell itself--for I'm sure the devil must be better off than we, if we
are to stay here this winter.
SECOND SAILOR. Any voyage, so it's to the southward, rather than stay
here at lazy anchor--no fire, nothing to eat or drink, but suck our
frosty fists like bears, unless we turn sheep-stealers again, and get
our brains knock'd out. Eigh, master cook, you're a gentleman
now--nothing to do--grown so proud, you won't speak to poor folks, I
suppose?
COOK. The devil may cook for 'em for me--if I had any thing to cook--a
parcel of frozen half-starv'd dogs. I should never be able to keep 'em
out of the cook room, or their noses out of the slush-tub.
BOATSWAIN. Damn your old smoky jaws, you're better off than any man
aboard, your trouble will be nothing,--for I suppose they'll be
disbursted in different messes among the Tories, and it's only putting
on the big pot, cockey. Ha, ha, ha.
COOK. What signifies, Mr. Boatswain, the big pot or the little pot, if
there's nothing to cook? no fire, coal or wood to cook with? Blast my
eyes, Mr. Boatswain, if I disgrease myself so much, I have had the
honour, damn me (tho' I say it that shou'dn't say it) to be chief cook
of a seventy-four gun ship, on board of which was Lord Abel-Marl and
Admiral Poke-Cock.
BOATSWAIN. Damn the liars--old singe-the-devil--you chief cook of a
seventy-four gun ship, eigh? you the devil, you're as proud as hell, for
all you look as old as Matheg'lum, hand a pair of silk stockings for our
cook here, d' ye see--lash a handspike athwart his arse, get a ladle
full of slush and a handful of brimstone for his hair, and step one of
you Tories there for the devil's barber to come and shave and dress him.
Ha, ha, ha.
COOK. No, Mr. Boatswain, it's not pride--but look 'e (as I said before),
I'll not disgrease my station, I'll throw up my commission, before I'll
stand cook for a parcel of scape gallows, convict Tory dogs and run-away
Negroes.
BOATSWAIN. What's that you say? Take care, old frosty face--What? do you
accuse his worship of turning kidnapper, and harbouring run-away
Negroes?--Softly, or you'll be taken up for a Whig, and get a handsome
coat of slush and hog's feathers for a christmas-box, cockey: Throw up
your commission, eigh? throw up the pot-halliards, you mean, old
piss-to-windward? Ha, ha, ha.
COOK. I tell you, Mr. Boatswain--I--
BOATSWAIN. Come, come, give us a chaw of tobacco, Cook--blast your eyes,
don't take any pride in what I say--I'm only joking, d' ye see----
COOK. Well, but Mr. Boatswain----
BOATSWAIN. Come, avast, belay the lanyards of your jaws, and let's have
no more of it, d' ye see. [_BOATSWAIN pipes._] Make fast that boat along
side there.
[_Exeunt ev'ry man to his station._
SCENE IV. _LORD KIDNAPPER comes up on the quarter-deck._
KIDNAPPER. Well, my brave blacks, are you come to list?
CUDJO. Eas, massa Lord, you preazee.
KIDNAPPER. How many are there of you?
CUDJO. Twenty-two, massa.
KIDNAPPER. Very well, did you all run away from your masters?
CUDJO. Eas, massa Lord, eb'ry one, me too.
KIDNAPPER. That's clever; they have no right to make you slaves, I wish
all the Negroes wou'd do the same, I'll make 'em free--what part did you
come from?
CUDJO. Disse brack man, disse one, disse one, disse one, disse one, come
from Hamton, disse one, disse one, disse one, come from Nawfok, me come
from Nawfok too.
KIDNAPPER. Very well, what was your master's name?
CUDJO. Me massa name Cunney Tomsee.
KIDNAPPER. Colonel Thompson--eigh?
CUDJO. Eas, massa, Cunney Tomsee.
KIDNAPPER. Well then I'll make you a major--and what's your name?
CUDJO. Me massa cawra me Cudjo.
KIDNAPPER. Cudjo?--very good--was you ever christened, Cudjo?
CUDJO. No massa, me no crissen.
KIDNAPPER. Well, then I'll christen you--you shall be called Major Cudjo
Thompson, and if you behave well, I'll soon make you a greater man than
your master, and if I find the rest of you behave well, I'll make you
all officers, and after you have serv'd Lord Paramount a while, you
shall have money in your pockets, good clothes on your backs, and be as
free as them white men there. [_Pointing forward to a parcel of
Tories._]
CUDJO. Tankee, massa, gaw bresse, massa Kidnap.
SAILOR. [_Aside._] What a damn'd big mouth that Cudjo has--as large as
our main hatch-way----
COOK. [_Aside._] Aye, he's come to a wrong place to make a good use of
it--it might stand some little chance at a Lord Mayor's feast.
KIDNAPPER. Now go forward, give 'em something to eat and drink there.
[_Aside._] Poor devils, they look half starved and naked like ourselves.
COOK. [_Aside._] I don't know where the devil they'll get it: the sight
of that fellow's mouth is enough to breed a famine on board, if there
was not one already.
SAILOR. Aye, he'd tumble plenty down his damn'd guts and swallow it,
like Jones swallow'd the whale.
KIDNAPPER. To-morrow you shall have guns like them white men--Can you
shoot some of them rebels ashore, Major Cudjo?
CUDJO. Eas, massa, me try.
KIDNAPPER. Wou'd you shoot your old master, the Colonel, if you could
see him?
CUDJO. Eas, massa, you terra me, me shoot him down dead.
KIDNAPPER. That's a brave fellow--damn 'em--down with them all--shoot
all the damn'd rebels.
SERJEANT. [_Aside._] Brave fellows indeed!
KIDNAPPER. Serjeant!
SERJEANT. I wait your Lordship's commands.
KIDNAPPER. Serjeant, to-morrow begin to teach those black recruits the
exercise, and when they have learn'd sufficiently well to load and fire,
then incorporate them among the regulars and the other Whites on board;
we shall in a few days have some work for 'em, I expect--be as
expeditious as possible. [_Aside to him._] Set a guard over them every
night, and take their arms from them, for who knows but they may cut our
throats.
SERJEANT. Very true, My Lord, I shall take particular care.
[_Exit KIDNAPPER; SERJEANT and NEGROES walk forward._
SCENE V.
SERJEANT. Damn 'em, I'd rather see half their weight in beef.
BOATSWAIN. Aye, curse their stomachs, or mutton either; then our Cook
wou'dn't be so damn'd lazy as he is, strutting about the deck like a
nobleman, receiving Paramount's pay for nothing.
SERJEANT. Walk faster, damn your black heads. I suppose, Boatswain, when
this hell-cat reg'ment's complete, they'll be reviewed in Hyde park?----
BOATSWAIN. Aye, blast my eyes, and our Chaplain with his dirty black
gown, or our Cook, shall be their general, and review 'em, for he talks
of throwing up his pot-halliards commission, in hopes of it.
SERJEANT. Ha, ha, ha.----
COOK. I'd see the devil have 'em first.----
[_Exeunt SERJEANT, &c._
SCENE VI. _In the cabin._
_LORD KIDNAPPER, CAPTAIN SQUIRES, and CHAPLAIN._
KIDNAPPER. These blacks are no small acquisition, them and the Tories we
have on board will strengthen us vastly; the thoughts of emancipation
will make 'em brave, and the encouragement given them by my
proclamation, will greatly intimidate the rebels--internal enemies are
worse than open foes.----
CHAPLAIN. Very true, My Lord; David prayed that he might be preserved
from secret enemies.
KIDNAPPER. Aye, so I've heard, but I look upon this to be a grand
manoeuvre in politics; this is making dog eat dog--thief catch
thief--the servant against his master--rebel against rebel--what think
you of that, parson?
CHAPLAIN. A house divided thus against itself cannot stand, according to
scripture--My Lord, your observation is truly scriptural.
KIDNAPPER. Scripture? poh, poh--I've nothing to do with scripture--I
mean politically, parson.
CHAPLAIN. I know it very well; sure, My Lord, I understand you
perfectly.
KIDNAPPER. Faith that's all I care for; if we can stand our ground this
winter, and burn all their towns that are accessible to our ships, and
Colonel Connolly succeeds in his plan, there's not the least doubt but
we shall have supplies from England very early in the spring, which I
have wrote for; then, in conjunction with Connolly, we shall be able to
make a descent where we please, and drive the rebels like hogs into a
pen.
CHAPLAIN. And then gather them (as the scriptures say) as a hen
gathereth her chickens.
KIDNAPPER. True, Mr. Scripture.
CAPTAIN SQUIRES. Very good, but you must take care of the hawks.
KIDNAPPER. What do you mean by the hawks, Captain?
CAPTAIN SQUIRES. I mean the shirt-men, the rifle-men, My Lord.
KIDNAPPER. Aye, damn 'em, hawks indeed; they are cursed dogs; a man is
never safe where they are, but I'll take care to be out of their reach,
let others take their chance, for I see they have no respect to
persons--I suppose they wou'd shoot at me, if I were within their reach.
CHAPLAIN. Undoubtedly, they would be more fond of you than of a wild
turkey; a parcel of ignorant, unmannerly rascals, they pay no more
respect to a Lord than they wou'd to a devil.
KIDNAPPER. The scoundrels are grown so damn'd impudent too, that one can
scarcely get a roasting pig now-a-days, but I'll be even with some of
'em by and by.
CHAPLAIN. I hope we shall get something good for our Christmas
dinner--so much abstinence and involuntary mortification, cannot be good
for the soul--a war in the body corporal is of more dangerous
consequence than a civil war to the state, or heresy and schism to the
church.
KIDNAPPER. Very true, parson--very true--now I like your doctrine--a
full belly is better than an empty sermon; preach that doctrine;--stick
to that text, and you'll not fail of making converts.
CHAPLAIN. The wisest of men said, there is nothing better, than that a
man should enjoy that which he hath, namely, eat, drink, and be merry,
if he can.
KIDNAPPER. You're very right--Solomon was no fool, they say--[_He
sings._]
_Give me a charming lass, Twangdillo cries,
I know no pleasure, but love's sweet joys._
CHAPLAIN. [_Sings._]
_Give me the bottle, says the red face sot,
For a whore I'd not give six-pence, not a groat._
Yet two is better than one, my Lord, for the scriptures further say, if
one be alone, how can there be heat? You seem to be converted to that
belief, for you have a brace of them, as the Boatswain says.
KIDNAPPER. Ha, ha. It's a pity but you were a bishop, you have the
scriptures so pat--now I'll go and take a short nap, meanwhile; Captain,
if any thing new happens, pray order my servant to wake me.
CAPTAIN SQUIRES. I will, my Lord.
[_Exit KIDNAPPER._
CHAPLAIN. And you and I'll crack a bottle, Captain; (bring a bottle,
boy!) 'tis bad enough to perish by famine, but ten thousand times worse
to be chok'd for want of moisture. His Lordship and two more make three;
and you and I and the bottle make three more, and a three-fold cord is
not easily broken; so we're even with him.
CAPTAIN SQUIRES. With all my heart.--Boy, bear a hand!
TOM. Coming, sir.
CHAPLAIN. Tom, Tom!--make haste, you scoundrel!--fetch two bottles. I
think we can manage it.
_Enter TOM with the bottles._
CHAPLAIN. That's right, Tom.--Now bring the glasses, and shut the door
after you.
[_Exit TOM._
SCENE VII. _In Boston. A council of war after the battle of
Bunker's-Hill._
LORD BOSTON, ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE, ELBOW ROOM, MR. CAPER, GENERAL CLINTON,
EARL PERCY.
LORD BOSTON. I fully expected, with the help of the last reinforcement
you brought me over, and the advice and assistance of three accomplish'd
and experienc'd Generals, I should have been able to have subdued the
rebels, and gain'd immortal laurels to myself--have return'd to Old
England like a Roman Consul, with a score or two of the rebel Generals,
Colonels and Majors, to have grac'd my triumph.
ELBOW ROOM. You have been vastly disappointed, sir--you must not look
for laurels (unless wild ones) nor expect triumphs (unless sham ones)
from your own victories or conquests in America.
LORD BOSTON. And yet, not more disappointed than you, sir--witness your
thrasonical speeches on your first landing, provided you had but elbow
room--and Mr. Caper too, to bring over Monsieur Rigadoon, the
dancing-master, and Signor Rosin, the fiddler forsooth; he thought, no
doubt, to have country danc'd the rebels out of their liberty with some
of his new cuts--with his soft music to have fascinated their wives and
daughters, and with some of 'em, no doubt, to have taken the tour of
America, with his reg'ment of fine, sleek, prancing horses, that have
been feeding this six months on codfish tails; he thought to have grown
fat with feasting, dancing, and drinking tea with the Ladies, instead of
being the skeleton he now appears to be--not to mention any thing of his
letter, wherein he laments Tom's absence; for[9] "had Tom been with him
(he says) he wou'd have been out of danger, and quite secure from the
enemy's shot."
PERCY. I think, Gentlemen, we're even with you now; you have had your
mirth and frolic with us, for dancing "Yankee Doodle," as you called it,
from Lexington.--I find you have had a severer dance, a brave sweat at
Bunker's Hill, and have been obliged to pay the fiddler in the bargain.
CLINTON. However, Gentlemen, I approve (at proper seasons) of a little
joking, yet I can by no means think (as we have had such bad success
with our crackers) that this is a proper time to throw your squibs.
LORD BOSTON. I grant you, sir, this is a very improper time for joking;
for my part, I was only speaking as to my own thoughts, when Mr. Elbow
Room made remarks, which he might as well have spared.
ELBOW ROOM. I took you, sir, as meaning a reflection upon us for our
late great loss, and particularly to myself, for expressing some
surprise on our first landing, that you should suffer a parcel of
ignorant peasants to drive you before 'em like sheep from Lexington; and
I must own I was a little chagrin'd at your seeming so unconcern'd at
such an affair as this (which had nearly prov'd our ruin), by your
innuendoes and ironical talk of accomplish'd Generals, Roman Consuls and
triumphs.
LORD BOSTON. My mentioning accomplish'd Generals, surely, sir, was
rather a compliment to you.
ELBOW ROOM. When irony pass current for compliments, and we take it so,
I shall have no objection to it.
MR. CAPER. The affair of Lexington, My Lord Boston, at which you were so
much affrighted (if I am rightly inform'd), was because you then stood
on your own bottom, this of Bunker's Hill you seem secretly to rejoice
at, only because you have three accomplish'd and experienc'd Generals to
share the disgrace with you, besides the brave Admiral Tombstone--you
talk of dancing and fiddling, and yet you do neither, as I see.
LORD BOSTON. And pray, sir, what did you do with the commission, the
post, the Duke of Grafton gave you, in lieu of your losses at Preston
election, and the expenses of your trial at the king's bench for a riot,
which had emptied your pockets?--Why you sold it--you sold it, sir--to
raise cash to gamble with.----
ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Damn it, don't let us kick up a dust among ourselves,
to be laugh'd at fore and aft--this is a hell of a council of
war--though I believe it will turn out one before we've done--a scolding
and quarrelling like a parcel of damn'd butter whores--I never heard two
whores yet scold and quarrel, but they got to fighting at last.
CLINTON. Pray, Gentlemen, drop this discourse, consider the honour of
England is at stake, and our own safety depends upon this day's
consultation.
LORD BOSTON. 'Tis not for argument's sake--but the dignity of my station
requires others should give up first.
ELBOW ROOM. Sir, I have done, lest you should also accuse me of
obstructing the proceedings of the council of war.
MR. CAPER. For the same reason I drop it now.
LORD BOSTON. Well, Gentlemen, what are we met here for?
ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Who the devil shou'd know, if you don't?--damn it,
didn't you send for us?
LORD BOSTON. Our late great loss of men has tore up the foundation of
our plan, and render'd all further attempts impracticable--'t will be a
long time ere we can expect any more reinforcements--and if they should
arrive, I'm doubtful of their success.
CLINTON. The provincials are vastly strong, and seem no novices in the
art of war; 'tis true we gain'd the hill at last, but of what advantage
is it to us?--none--the loss of 1400 as brave men as Britain can boast
of, is a melancholy consideration, and must make our most sanguinary
friends in England abate of their vigour.
ELBOW ROOM. I never saw or read of any battle equal to it--never was
more martial courage display'd, and the provincials, to do the dogs
justice, fought like heroes, fought indeed more like devils than men;
such carnage and destruction not exceeded by Blenheim, Minden, Fontenoy,
Ramillies, Dettingen, the battle of the Boyne, and the late affair of
the Spaniards and Algerines--a mere cock-fight to it--no laurels there.
MR. CAPER. No, nor triumphs neither--I regret in particular the number
of brave officers that fell that day, many of whom were of the first
families in England.
ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Aye, a damn'd affair indeed--many powder'd
beaus--petit maitres--fops--fribbles--skip jacks--macaronies--jack
puddings--noblemen's bastards and whores' sons fell that day--and my
poor marines stood no more chance with 'em than a cat in hell without
claws.
LORD BOSTON. It can't be help'd, Admiral; what is to be done next?
ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Done?--why, what the devil have you done? nothing
yet, but eat Paramount's beef, and steal a few Yankee sheep--and that,
it seems, is now become a damn'd lousy, beggarly trade too, for you
hav'n't left yourselves a mouthful to eat.
[_Aside._]
"_Bold at the council board,
But cautious in the field, he shunn'd the sword._"
LORD BOSTON. But what can we do, Admiral?
ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Do?--why, suck your paws--that's all you're like to
get. [_Aside._] But avast, I must bowse taught there, or we shall get to
loggerheads soon, we're such damn'd fighting fellows.
LORD BOSTON. We must act on the defensive this winter, till
reinforcements arrive.
ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Defensive? aye, aye--if we can defend our bellies
from hunger, and prevent a mutiny and civil war among the small guts
there this winter, we shall make a glorious campaign of it, indeed--it
will read well in the American Chronicles.
LORD BOSTON. I expect to be recalled this winter, when I shall lay the
case before Lord Paramount, and let him know your deplorable situation.
ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Aye, do--and lay it behind him too; you've got the
weather-gage of us this tack, messmate; but I wish you a good voyage for
all--and don't forget to tell him, the poor worms are starving too,
having nothing to eat, but half starv'd dead soldiers and the ships'
bottoms. [_Aside._] A cunning old fox, he's gnaw'd his way handsomely
out of the Boston cage--but he'll never be a _wolf_, for all that.
MR. CAPER. I shall desire to be recalled too--I've not been us'd to such
fare--and not the least diversion or entertainment of any sort going
forward here--I neither can nor will put up with it.
ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. I think we're all a parcel of damn'd boobies for
coming three thousand miles upon a wild-goose chase--to perish with
cold--starve with hunger--get our brains knock'd out, or be hang'd for
sheep-stealing and robbing hen-roosts.
LORD BOSTON. I think, Admiral, you're always grumbling--never satisfied.
ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Satisfied? I see no appearance of it--we have been
here these twelve hours, scolding upon empty stomachs--you may call it a
council of war (and so it is indeed, a war with the guts) or what you
will--but I call it a council of famine.
LORD BOSTON. As it's so late, Gentlemen, we'll adjourn the council of
war till to-morrow at nine o'clock--I hope you'll all attend, and come
to a conclusion.
ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. And I hope you'll then conclude to favour us with one
of them fine turkeys you're keeping for your sea store [_Aside._] or
that fine, fat, black pig you or some of your guard stole out of the
poor Negroe's pen. As it's near Christmas, and you're going to make your
exit--you know the old custom among the sailors--pave your way
first--let us have one good dinner before we part, and leave us half a
dozen pipes of Mr. Hancock's wine to drink your health, and a good
voyage, and don't let us part with dry lips.
_Such foolish councils, with no wisdom fraught,
Must end in wordy words, and come to nought;
Just like St. James's, where they bluster, scold,
They nothing know--yet they despise being told._
[_Exeunt._
FOOTNOTES:
[9] See Burgoyne's letter.
ACT V.
SCENE I. _At Montreal._
_GENERAL PRESCOT and OFFICER._
GENERAL PRESCOT.
So it seems indeed, one misfortune seldom comes alone.--The rebels,
after the taking of Ticonderoga and Chamblee, as I just now learn by a
Savage, marched immediately to besiege St. John's, and are now before
that place, closely investing it, and no doubt intend paying us a visit
soon.
OFFICER. Say you so? then 'tis time to look about us.
GEN. PRESCOT. They'll find us prepar'd, I'll warrant 'em, to give 'em
such a reception as they little dream of--a parcel of Yankee dogs.
OFFICER. Their success, no doubt, has elated them, and given 'em hopes
of conquering all Canada soon, if that's their intent.
GEN. PRESCOT. No doubt it is--but I'll check their career a little.----
_Enter SCOUTING OFFICER, with COLONEL ALLEN, and other prisoners._
SCOUTING OFFICER. Sir, I make bold to present you with a few
prisoners--they are a scouting detachment from the army besieging St.
John's.
GEN. PRESCOT. Prisoners? Rebels, I suppose, and scarcely worth hanging.
COL. ALLEN. Sir, you suppose wrong--you mean scarcely worth your while
to attempt.
GEN. PRESCOT. Pray, who are you, sir?
COL. ALLEN. A man, sir, and who had the honour, till now, to command
those brave men, whom you call rebels.
GEN. PRESCOT. What is your name? If I may be so bold?
COL. ALLEN. Allen.
GEN. PRESCOT. Allen?
COL. ALLEN. Yes, Allen.
GEN. PRESCOT. Are you that Allen, that Colonel Allen (as they call him)
that dar'd to take Ticonderoga?
COL. ALLEN. The same--the very man.
GEN. PRESCOT. Then rebels you are, and as such I shall treat you, for
daring to oppose Lord Paramount's troops, and the laws of the land.
COL. ALLEN. Prisoners we are, 'tis true--but we despise the name of a
rebel--With more propriety that name is applicable to your master--'tis
he who attempts to destroy the laws of the land, not us--we mean to
support them, and defend our property against Paramount's and
parliamentary tyranny.
GEN. PRESCOT. To answer you were a poorness of spirit I despise; when
rebels dare accuse, power that replies, forgets to punish; I am not to
argue that point with you: And let me tell you, sir, whoever you are, it
now ill becomes you thus to talk--You're my prisoner--your life is in my
hands, and you shall suffer immediately--Guards! take them away.
COL. ALLEN. Cruel insult!--pardon these brave men!--what they have done
has been by my orders--I am the only guilty person (if guilt there be),
let me alone suffer for them all. [_Opening his breast._] Here! take
your revenge--Why do you hesitate?--Will you not strike a breast that
ne'er will flinch from your pointed bayonet?
GEN. PRESCOT. Provoke me not--Remember you're my prisoners.
COL. ALLEN. Our souls are free!--Strike, cowards, strike!--I scorn to
beg my life.
GEN. PRESCOT. Guards! away with them--I'll reserve you for a more
ignominious death--your fate is fix'd--away with them.
COL. ALLEN. [_Going off._] Be glutted, ye thirsters after human
blood--Come, see me suffer--mark my eye, and scorn me, if my expiring
soul confesses fear--Come, see and be taught virtue, and to die as a
patriot for the wrongs of my country.
[_Exeunt PRISONERS and GUARDS._
SCENE II. _A Dungeon._
COL. ALLEN. What! ye infernal monsters! murder us in the dark?--What
place is this?--Who reigns king of these gloomy mansions?--You might
favour us at least with one spark of light--Ye cannot see to do your
business here.
OFFICER. 'Tis our orders.
COL. ALLEN. Ye dear, ye brave, wretched friends!--now would I die for ye
all--ye share a death I wou'd gladly excuse you from--'Tis not death I
fear--this is only bodily death--but to die noteless in the silent dark,
is to die scorn'd, and shame our suff'ring country--we fall undignify'd
by villains' hands--a sacrifice to Britain's outcast blood-hounds--This,
this shakes the soul!--Come then, ye murderers, since it must be so--do
your business speedily--Farewell, my friends! to die with you is now my
noblest claim since to die for you was a choice deny'd--What are ye
about?--Stand off, ye wretches!
OFFICER. I am order'd to lay you in irons. [_They seize him._] You must
submit.
COL. ALLEN. What, do you mean to torture us to death with chains, racks
and gibbets? rather despatch us immediately--Ye executioners, ye
inquisitors, does this cruelty proceed from the lenity I shewed to the
prisoners I took?--Did it offend you that I treated them with
friendship, generosity, honour and humanity?--If it did, our suff'rings
will redound more to our honour, and our fall be the more glorious--But
remember, this fall will prove your own one day--Wretches! I fear you
not, do your worst; and while I here lay suff'ring and chain'd on my
back to the damp floor, I'll yet pray for your conversion.
OFFICER. Excuse us, we have only obey'd our order.
COL. ALLEN. Then I forgive you; but pray execute them.
_Oh! my lost friends! 'tis liberty, not breath,
Gives the brave life. Shun slav'ry more than death.
He who spurns fear, and dares disdain to be,
Mocks chains and wrongs--and is forever free;
While the base coward, never safe, tho' low,
Creeps but to suff'rings, and lives on for woe!_
[_Exeunt GUARDS._
SCENE III. _In the Camp at Cambridge._
_GENERAL WASHINGTON, GENERAL LEE, and GENERAL PUTNAM._
GENERAL WASHINGTON.
Our accounts from the Northward, so far, are very favourable;
Ticonderoga, Chamblee, St. John's and Montreal our troops are already in
possession of--and Colonel Arnold, having penetrated Canada, after
suff'ring much thro' cold, fatigue and want of provisions, is now before
Quebec, and General Montgomery, I understand, is in full march to join
him; see these letters.
[_They read._
GEN. LEE. The brave, the intrepid Arnold, with his handful of fearless
troops, have dar'd beyond the strength of mortals--Their courage smil'd
at doubts, and resolutely march'd on, clamb'ring (to all but themselves)
insurmountable precipices, whose tops, covered with ice and snow, lay
hid in the clouds, and dragging baggage, provisions, ammunition and
artillery along with them, by main strength, in the dead of winter, over
such stupendous and amazing heights, seems almost unparallelled in
history!--'Tis true, Hannibal's march over the Alps comes the nearest to
it--it was a surprising undertaking, but when compar'd to this, appears
but as a party of pleasure, an agreeable walk, a sabbath day's journey.
GEN. PUTNAM. Posterity will stand amazed, and be astonish'd at the
heroes of this new world, that the spirit of patriotism should blaze to
such a height, and eclipse all others, should outbrave fatigue, danger,
pain, peril, famine and even death itself, to serve their country; that
they should march, at this inclement season, thro' long and dreary
deserts, thro' the remotest wilds, covered with swamps and standing
lakes, beset with trees, bushes and briars, impervious to the cheering
rays of the sun, where are no traces or vestiges of human footsteps,
wild, untrodden paths, that strike terror into the fiercest of the brute
creation.
_No bird of song to cheer the gloomy desert!
No animals of gentle love's enliven!_
GEN. LEE. Let Britons do the like--no--they dare not attempt it--let 'em
call forth the Hanoverian, the Hessian, the hardy Ruffian, or, if they
will, the wild Cossacks and Kalmucks of Tartary, and they would tremble
at the thought! And who but Americans dare undertake it? The wond'ring
moon and stars stood aloof, and turn'd pale at the sight!
GEN. WASHINGTON. I rejoice to hear the Canadians received them kindly,
after their fatigue furnish'd them with the necessaries of life, and
otherways treated them very humanely--And the savages, whose hair stood
on end, and look'd and listen'd with horror and astonishment at the
relation of the fatigues and perils they underwent, commiserated them,
and afforded all the succour in their power.
GEN. LEE. The friendship of the Canadians and Savages, or even their
neutrality alone, are favourable circumstances that cannot fail to
hearten our men; and the junction of General Montgomery will inspire 'em
with fresh ardour.
GEN. PUTNAM. Heavens prosper 'em!
_Enter OFFICER and EXPRESS._
OFFICER. Sir, here's an Express.
EXPRESS. I have letters to your Excellency.
GEN. WASHINGTON. From whence?
EXPRESS. From Canada, sir.
GEN. WASHINGTON. From the army?
EXPRESS. From the headquarters, sir.
GEN. WASHINGTON. I hope matters go well there.--Had General Montgomery
join'd Colonel Arnold when you left it?
EXPRESS. He had, sir--these letters are from both those gentlemen.
[_Gives him the letters._
GEN. WASHINGTON. Very well. You may now withdraw and refresh yourself,
unless you've further to say--I'll dispatch you shortly.
EXPRESS. Nothing further, sir.
[_Exeunt OFFICER and EXPRESS._
GEN. WASHINGTON. [_Opens and reads the letter to GENERALS LEE and
PUTNAM._] I am well pleased with their contents--all but the behaviour
of the haughty Carleton--to fire upon a flag of truce, hitherto
unprecedented, even amongst Savages or Algerines--his cruelty to the
prisoners is cowardly, and personal ill treatment of General Montgomery
is unbecoming a General--a soldier--and beneath a Gentleman--and leaves
an indelible mark of brutality--I hope General Montgomery, however, will
not follow his example.
GEN. LEE. I hope so too, sir--if it can be avoided; it's a disgrace to
the soldier, and a scandal to the Gentleman--so long as I've been a
soldier, my experience has not furnish'd me with a like instance.
GEN. PUTNAM. I see no reason why he shou'dn't be paid in his own
coin.--If a man bruises my heel, I'll break his head--I cannot see the
reason or propriety of bearing with their insults--does he not know it's
in our power to retaliate fourfold?
GEN. LEE. Let's be good natur'd, General--let us see a little more of it
first----
GEN. PUTNAM. I think we have seen enough of it already for this
twelve-months past. Methinks the behaviour of Lord Boston, the ill
treatment of poor Allen, to be thrown into a loathsome dungeon like a
murderer, be loaded with irons, and transported like a convict, would
sufficiently rouse us to a just retaliation--that imperious red coat,
Carleton, should be taught good manners--I hope to see him ere long in
our College at Cambridge----
GEN. LEE. I doubt; he'll be too cunning, and play truant--he has no
notion of learning American manners; ev'ry dog must have his day (as the
saying is); it may be our time by and by--the event of war is
uncertain----
GEN. PUTNAM. Very true, sir; but don't let us be laugh'd at forever.
_Enter an OFFICER in haste._
OFFICER. Sir, a messenger this moment from Quebec waits to be admitted.
GEN. WASHINGTON. Let him enter.
[_Exit OFFICER._
_Enter MESSENGER._
GEN. WASHINGTON. What news bring you?
MESSENGER. I am sorry, sir, to be the bearer of an unpleasing tale----
GEN. WASHINGTON. Bad news have you?--have you letters?
MESSENGER. None, sir--I came off at a moment's warning--my message is
verbal.
GEN. WASHINGTON. Then relate what you know.
MESSENGER. After the arrival and junction of General Montgomery's troops
with Colonel Arnold's, Carleton was summoned to surrender; he disdaining
any answer, fir'd on the flag of truce----
GEN. WASHINGTON. That we have heard--go on.
MESSENGER. The General finding no breach could be effected in any
reasonable time, their walls being vastly strong, and his cannon rather
light, determined to attempt it by storm--The enemy were apprized of
it--however, he passed the first barrier, and was attempting the second,
where he was unfortunately killed, with several other brave officers----
GEN. WASHINGTON. Is General Montgomery killed?
MESSENGER. He is certainly, sir.
GEN. WASHINGTON. I am sorry for it--a brave man--I could wish him a
better fate!----
GEN. LEE. I lament the loss of him--a resolute soldier----
GEN. PUTNAM. Pity such bravery should prove unsuccessful, such merit
unrewarded;--but the irreversible decree of Providence!--who can
gainsay?--we may lament the loss of a friend, but 'tis irreligious to
murmur at pre-ordination. What happ'ned afterwards?
MESSENGER. The officer next in command, finding their attacks at that
time unsuccessful, retired in good order.
GEN. WASHINGTON. What became of Colonel Arnold?
MESSENGER. Colonel Arnold, at the head of about three hundred and fifty
brave troops, and Captain Lamb's company of artillery, having in the
mean time passed through St. Rocques, attacked a battery, and carried
it, tho' well defended, with the loss of some men--
GEN. PUTNAM. I hope they proved more successful.
GEN. LEE. Aye, let us hear.
MESSENGER. The Colonel about this time received a wound in his leg, and
was obliged to crawl as well as he cou'd to the hospital, thro' the fire
of the enemy, and within fifty yards of the walls, but, thro'
Providence, escap'd any further damage.----
GEN. PUTNAM. Aye, providential indeed!
GEN. WASHINGTON. Is he dangerously wounded?
MESSENGER. I am told not, sir.
GEN. WASHINGTON. I am glad of it.--What follow'd?
MESSENGER. His brave troops pushed on to the second barrier, and took
possession of it.
GEN. WASHINGTON. Very good--proceed.
MESSENGER. A party of the enemy then sallying out from the palace-gate,
attacked them in the rear, whom they fought with incredible bravery for
three hours, and deeds of eternal fame were done; but being surrounded
on all sides, and overpowered by numbers, were at last obliged to submit
themselves as prisoners of war.
GEN. PUTNAM. Heav'ns! could any thing prove more unlucky? such brave
fellows deserve better treatment than they'll get (I'm afraid) from the
inhuman Carleton.
GEN. LEE. Such is the fortune of war, and the vicissitudes attending a
military life; to-day conquerors, to-morrow prisoners.
GEN. WASHINGTON. He dares not treat them ill--only as prisoners. Did you
learn how those brave fellows were treated?
MESSENGER. It was currently reported in the camp they were treated very
humanely.
GEN. WASHINGTON. A change for the better.
GEN. PUTNAM. Produc'd by fear, no doubt from General Montgomery's
letter--but no matter from what cause.
GEN. LEE. How far did the remainder of the army retire?
MESSENGER. About two miles from the city, where they are posted very
advantageously, continuing the blockade, and waiting for reinforcements.
GEN. LEE. Did the enemy shew any peculiar marks of distinction to the
corpse of General Montgomery?
MESSENGER. He was interred in Quebec, with ev'ry possible mark of
distinction.
GEN. WASHINGTON. What day did the affair happen on?
MESSENGER. On the last day of the year.
GEN. WASHINGTON. A remarkable day! When was the General interred?
MESSENGER. The second of January.
GEN. LEE. What number of men in the whole attack was killed? did you
learn?
MESSENGER. About sixty killed and wounded.
GEN. WASHINGTON. Have you any thing further to communicate?
MESSENGER. Nothing, sir, but to inform you they are all in good spirits,
and desire reinforcements, and heavy artillery may be sent them as soon
as possible.
GEN. WASHINGTON. That be our business--with all despatch. You may for
the present withdraw. Serjeant!
_Enter SERJEANT._
SERJEANT. I wait your order, sir.
GEN. WASHINGTON. See that the Messenger and his horse want for nothing.
SERJEANT. I shall, sir.
[_Exeunt SERJEANT and MESSENGER._
SCENE IV.
GEN. WASHINGTON. I'll despatch an Express to the Congress. This repulse,
if I mistake not (or victory, as Carleton may call it), will stand 'em
but in little stead--'t will be only a temporary reprieve--we'll
reinforce our friends, let the consequence be what it may--Quebec must
fall, and the lofty strong walls and brazen gates (the shield of
cowards) must tumble by an artificial earthquake; should they continue
in their obstinacy, we'll arm our friends with missive thunders in their
hands, and stream death on them swifter than the winds.
GEN. LEE. I lament the loss of the valiant Montgomery and his brave
officers and soldiers (at this time more especially) 'tis the fortune of
war, 'tis unavoidable; yet, I doubt not, out of their ashes will arise
new heroes.
GEN. PUTNAM. Who can die a more glorious, a more honourable death than
in their country's cause?--let it redouble our ardour, and kindle a
noble emulation in our breasts--let each American be determined to
conquer or die in a righteous cause.
GEN. WASHINGTON. I have drawn my sword, and never will I sheathe it,
till America is free, or I'm no more.
GEN. LEE. Peace is despaired of, and who can think of submission? The
last petition from the Congress, like the former, has been disregarded;
they prayed but for liberty, peace and safety, and their omnipotent
authoritative supreme-ships will grant them neither: War, then, war open
and understood, must be resolved on; this, this will humble their pride,
will bring their tyrant noses to the ground, teach 'em humility, and
force them to hearken to reason when 'tis too late. My noble General, I
join you. [_Drawing his sword._] I'll away with the scabbard, and
sheathe my sword in the bosom of tyranny.
GEN. PUTNAM. Have you not read the speech, where frowning revenge and
sounds of awful dread for disgrace at Lexington and loss at Bunker's
Hill echo forth? Not smiling peace, or pity, tame his sullen soul; but,
Pharaoh-like, on the wings of tyranny he rides and forfeits happiness to
feast revenge, till the waters of the red sea of blood deluge the
tyrant, with his mixed host of vile cut-throats, murderers, and bloody
butchers.
GEN. WASHINGTON. Yet, finding they cannot conquer us, gladly would they
make it up by a voluntary free-will offering of a million of money in
bribes, rather than be obliged to relish the thoughts of sacrificing
their cursed pride and false honour, they sending over to amuse us (to
put us off our guard) a score or two of commissioners with sham
negotiations in great state, to endeavour to effect, by bribery,
deception and chicanery, what they cannot accomplish by force. Perish
such wretches!--detested be their schemes!--Perish such monsters!--a
reproach to human understanding--their vaunted boasts and threats will
vanish like smoke, and be no more than like snow falling on the moist
ground, melt in silence, and waste away--Blasted, forever blasted be the
hand of the villainous traitor that receives their gold upon such
terms--may he become leprous, like Naaman, the Syrian, yea, rather like
Gehazi, the servant of Elisha, that it may stick to him for ever.
GEN. PUTNAM. I join you both, and swear by all the heroes of
New-England, that this arm, tho' fourscore and four [_Drawing his
sword._], still nervous and strong, shall wield this sword to the last
in the support of liberty and my country, revenge the insult offer'd to
the immortal Montgomery, and brutal treatment of the brave Allen.
_O Liberty! thou sunshine of the heart!
Thou smile of nature, and thou soul of art!
Without thy aid no human hope cou'd grow,
And all we cou'd enjoy were turn'd to woe._
[_Exeunt._
THE EPILOGUE.
SPOKEN BY MR. FREEMAN.
Since tyrants reign, and lust and lux'ry rule;
Since kings turn Neroes--statesmen play the fool;
Since parli'ment in cursed league combine,
To sport with rights that's sacred and divine;
Destroying towns with direful conflagration,
And murder subjects without provocation!
These are but part of evils we could name,
Not to their glory, but eternal shame.
Petitions--waste paper--great Pharaoh cries,
Nor care a rush for your remonstrances.
Each Jacobite, and ev'ry pimping Tory,
Waits for your wealth, to raise his future glory:
Or pensions sure, must ev'ry rascal have,
Who strove his might, to make FREEMAN a slave.
Since this the case, to whom for succour cry?
To God, our swords, and sons of liberty!
Cast off the idol god!--kings are but vain!
Let justice rule, and independence reign.
Are ye not men? Pray who made men, but God?
Yet men make kings--to tremble at their nod!
What nonsense this--let's wrong with right oppose,
Since nought will do, but sound, impartial blows.
Let's act in earnest, not with vain pretence, }
Adopt the language of sound COMMON SENSE, }
And with one voice proclaim INDEPENDENCE. }
Convince your foes you will defend your right,
That blows and knocks is all they will get by 't.
Let tyrants see that you are well prepar'd,
By proclamations, sword, nor speeches scar'd;
That liberty freeborn breathe in each soul!
One god-like union animate the whole!
_End of the First Campaign._
TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES
General: Inconsistent hyphenation of eye(-)lids preserved as in original
General: Inconsistent punctuation of Bunker(')s-Hill preserved as in
original
General: Variable punctuation after Roman numerals (e.g. iv.) preserved as
in original
Page 290: , added after JUDAS
Page 293: "confident" as in original
Page 305: "They has often been told" as in original
Page 314: . added after "time to find him
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