IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) V ^. 1.0 ■^IM 125 |30 ™— i^ ■^ ■■■ moo I.I 11:25 1 1.4 IIIIIM 1.6 PhntnoTQnViin Sciences Corporation ^ ■1>^ # W^V \\ ^^ V 6^ &^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 87i2-4S03 0^ ^ ^ /, t/^ fA 92 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. On thee close Humphrey pressed, and Green- Prevost not far behind was seen — All names that glory owns. Nor Thayer, Blythe, and Stedman less, Did for her crowns their thirst confess, Tho' danger scowling stood Upon their path, and warned them back, Not such the moment to retrack Their steps, however rued. The battle-cloud enclosed them round — Impenetrably dun — profound. The eye no sight, the ear no sound. But wreathing smoke and dread rebound, Of loud artillery met. Save that from out the embodied smoke. At times a vivid lightning broke, And shout of battling men who spoke. Through deep -toned trumpets, and awoke A clangor louder yet, Than rose the canon's answered peal, Concussive shell and clashing steel 5 Than these nought did those clouds reveal. But where are those whose desperate zeal, Led to yon parapet ? THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. 93 Say did they thence with pauseless spring, Dash maddening midst the serried ring, Where life had been a worthless thing, Arid valour would but sooner bring, The stroke which was to set W ith one brief, last, tho' welcomed pain, The spirit free from earthly chain ? What matter so release it gain. If sabre opes the bubbling vein, Or ball, or bayonet ? Humphrey', that daring was thy last. Blythe I from thine eyes the ardour past. There Stedman I thine were overcast, With the dull shades of fate. There, Hendrick, glanced thy sword's last wavel 'Twas freedom lit ye to the grave— 'Twas glory I vengeance — hate . But how with Morgan goes the fight ? In front — almost alone, Unpalled that arm's elastic might, He struggles still in fate's despite : One moment— all is done I His ranks are raked by every shot ; Thinned fearfully and broken. 94 THE STORMING OF QUIBEC. Their rifles now avail them nought, And numbers have a covert sought ; Hope's last adieu is spoken. *Tis done ! he sounds the late retreat — Too late alas ! for them. In front fresh enemies they meet, Fresh for the toil of battle feat. And vi^ilt thou strive to stem Their course, nor now thy sword resign? Bends not that towering soul of thine .^ " We still, he cried, may force our way, Determined if we be. Through yonder panoplied array : Ere spoke I hear your answer — nay- Then must I stay with ye. This dalliance does but seal your doom, To captive's chains and dungeon's gloom. To rebel's death and distant tomb. Where Britain specks the sea. Ye fondly hope our valiant chief, May bring ye here the wished relief : Hope on, but as for me From him no succour I await- E'en should he come it were too late : THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. And ye may now implore your fate, From British clemency I Unless ye choose to meet the death, Rather than draw a cap:ive's breath, To part with on the tree. Ye hear the challenge of the foe— Nor this ye will— then, be it so. Briton, they yield to thee, Tho' yet believe against my will, But for their hopes this blade had still, Been grasped to set us free.'^ Hushed is the clang of battle fray, Dispers'd the cloud so darkly gray ; The pall for those beneath that lay In glory's bed— and captives they To Britain, that survive. But where, ah I where art thou the chief, Whose mien was greatness in relief? Where nature seemed to strive, To blend each noble, manly trait 5 The eye where genius' fires dilate, The open— generous brow— The perfect stature, tall and fair, The changing cheek that might not share, 95 96 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. The unfeeling hue the callous bear — The blush of shame the guilty wear- Montgomery ! where art thou ? 'Neath Diamond's dizzy beetling head, Whose foot a narrow path forbade The Bay to lave-— was such so dread, So barred by ice to stay thy tread, And awe thee to retire ? It could not be such arm as thine. Should its full share of toil decline, Or thus the enterprise resign 5 Then why rose not thy fire, To answer that which Arnold lit ; Morgan to flag would not permit. Though strewed his men the ground ! Ah ! could they still have held the hope, Thy blade to them a way would ope, Still had that remnant dar'd to cope. With all that might surround. Dull passed the day — ^night came, but threw On captive's lot no gloomier hue. Alas ! too dark for darker shade— What thoughts their bosoms shall invade ! Yet Carleton was no ruthless foe — THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. 97 At least his treatment spake not so. But what irks it the bird of Jove, That her chain be light if strong it prove ? And what to the lion is the bounded range Of the park, if such he may not change For his forest home ? alas, as well Were he pent within the narrov cell. Small rest the night to captive brings : Ah I fancy's dark imaginings, Will crowd upon the troubled soul, Thoughts which it waking might control. And sleep does but the body free, A space from wonted sympathy. For each with each must sympathize, 'Till death has claimed his grey hair'd prize 5 Save when the last may find repose, The first alas ! too seldom knows. And oft, too oft the dreamer wakes To weep so much his dream partakes Of sad reality the form, The sting— the never dying worm. The morning came but far too gay 5 All yester's clouds had passed away. Alas 1 they had not passed, but hung m 98 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. Each bosom o'er, and hanging wrung. Not o'er their sorrows did they brood : The anxious inquiry renew'd, " Still doth he live," met no reply, Save from a Briton's stifled sigh. And gaze that melted as it turned ; In these all their despair they learned. They closed around the bier where lay He whom they sought — 'twas but his clay I They fain would not believe it him : They gazed, and turn'd, and gazed again. Distorted feature, shattered limb. Seemed doubtful, but seemed thus in vain. In vain ! hope may not long deceive ; Not long the mind from sorrow shield ; Not long its fairy net work weave Around it — it ere long must yield To truth's conviction dread and dark, Too poignant for most stoic breast. They o'er him bent — nor might you mark One eye that spake not heart distrest. Slow, sad and deep a murmur rose From every manly soldier's heart. No I even they may not compose, THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. 99 Sobs, for themselves that ne'er would start- Tears for themselves they never shed : But when they bent them o'er his bier, O I they had been to feeling dead, Had sorrow thence distilled no tear. In these each rugged soldier sought For generous sorrow, faint relief 5 And on the sighing breeze was brought, A dirge that spoke a comrade's grief. My chieftain ! I weep o'er thy fall, Nor am I alone in my grief: The bud of thy promise was witnessed by all, And but now was expanded the leaf. Oh 1 why was not one little hour, Drawn out to complete the fair bloom : To display to the gaze the full tints of the flower, Ere they all should be swept to the tomb. From thy soul beaming eyes ere thefire had fled: But no 1 it sleeps not 'neath the turf o'er the dead. It slumbers not there nor yet here, In our breasts where its flame is tranferred, Surviving the wreck of that form without peer, 100 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. Whose daring no danger deterred. How oft have we gazed with delight, On thy features where greatness sat throned, And listed thy eloquence soar in its might, Confessing the magic it owned. Now tho* wrapt in that silence of all the most still, The last accents we heard through our bleak bosoms thrill. Thou art mourned by the high and the low- By the faithless, as well as the true- By the country thou fought'st for, and e*en by her foe. Nor envy her sting shall reneWo Thy mem'ry not calumny taint. But truth shall preside o'er thy fame : Thy virtues, thy brav'ry th' historian paint- Posterity dwell on thy name ! And pronouncing it ever with energy's fire, Thy spirit shall long generations respire. We will make thee a home distant grave. E'en here in an enemy's land. But not long shall the rank grass over it wave, THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. 101 Thy country her son shall demand. These relics thy brethren shall bear, From this to a worthier clime, And o'er them a tomb monumental we'll rear. That shall mock the slow ravage of time. The tribute a brave people pay to whose sun, In glory has set, ere its zenith was won. Reader I I bid thee now a long farewell. There be but few would grieve if 'twere the last Lay that shall fall— altho' the first that's fell, From this unpractised harp— but it is past. Its latest note upon the air is cast, And may awake no more — so let it be. Its vault heaven's twinkling gems are studding fast, And all is silent on the moon lit lea. And so should be my strain— my muse— fare- well to thee. 12 If O T E S. giv "I itse san wli tei ac by f3e th or ar ar m a v< tl N O T K S. In President Dwiglif s Travels, Vol. HI. p. 353, is Slven he following d.-oription of Lake George:- « Take George is universally considered as bemg m itself an! nt environs, the most beautiful object o the Itf'nlreinthe U. S. Several European travelle^ X have visited it, and whohad seen the celebratedwa- Te s of Switzerland, have given it the preference The access from the south is eminently noble , being fomed r wo vast ranges of mountains, which, commencmg their course several miles south of F<>rt George extend WondPlattsburg. and te^inate -ar the no^h Ime of the state occupying a distance of about 100 mues. Those t tt It are'higl bold, and in various pUces ..^d and hoary. Those on the west are somewhat mferioi, Ind Lerally covered with a thick forest to the>r sum- :'s' The road for the 3 or 4 last miles passes through a forest and conceals the lake from the view »? *« t^" veller, until he arrives at the eminence 0"jv»uch F°rt George was built. Here is opened at ou.;= » t-.w^.,- the splendour of which is rarely exceeded. 106 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. The sceneiy of this spot may be advantageously con- sidered under the following heads.- the water, the isl- ands, the shore, and the mountains. _ The water is probably not s,u-passed in beauty by any m the world: pure, sweet, pellucid, of an elegant hue when immediately under the eye, and at a very small, as well as at a greater distance, presenting a gay! luminous azure, and appeanng as if a soft lustre undulated eveiy where on its surface, with a continual and brilliant ema- nation. This fine object, however, is visible only at cer- tam times, and perhaps in particular positions. While employed on its shores, or in sailing upon its bosom, the traveller is insensibly led into an habitual and irresistible consciousness of singular salubrity, sweetness and ele- gance. During the mild season he finds an additional pleasure. The warmth of the water on the surface dif- fuses a soft and pleasing temperature; cooler in the day. and warmer in the evening, than that of the shore; and secunng the traveller alike from inconvenience and disease. The islands are Interesting- en account of their num. ber, location, size, and figure. Their number is very great-fancifully computed at 565. Few pieces of water and none within my knowledge are so amply furnished. Then, location is exquisite~They are soJitaiV, in pairs, and m groups, containing from 3 to perhaps 30; arranged with respect to each other, and the neighbouring shores, with unceasing variety and ^vith the happiest conceivable relations. ^ Both the size and the figure of these Islands are varied m^the^same delightful manner. The size chancres from a .cw reet, to a mile and a half in length. The"figure of most of them is oblong; a small number are round. But THE STOUMING OF QUEBEC. lor the variety of their appearance is peculiarly derived from theu- surface. A small number of them are naked rocks, and by the power of contrast are very interesting fea- tures in the aspect of the group. Some are partially, and most are completely, covered with vegetation. Some are bushy, others ornamented with a single tree, — with two, three, or many; and those with, and without their bushy attendants. Others still, the greater number, ex- hibit an entire forest. Some of them, of a long and nar- row structure, present through various openings in their umbrage, the sky, the mountains, the points, and other distant, beautiful objects, changing to the eye, as the tra- veller approaches and passes them. On some stand thick coppices, impenetrably interwoven. On a great multi- tude the lofty pine, with its separate boughs, lifts its head above every other tree, waving majestically in the sky. On others, the beach, maple, and oak, with their clustering branches, and lively verdui-e, present the strongest examples of thrifty vegetation. At the same time on a number not small, decayed, bare, and falling trees are finely contrasted to this vivid appearance. He who wishes to know the exquisite and diversified beauty of which islands are capable, must, I think, cross lake George. The shores of this lake exhibit a similar and scarcely less striking aspect. On one part of the lake you are pre- sented with a beach of light coloured sand, forming a long, extended border, and showing the purity of its wa- ters in the strongest light. On another you see a thick, dark forest, rising immediately from the rocky shore, overhanging and obscuring the water with their gloomy 1 TT^-^ 4.V.« oV.rwt.£k ic cor»nnfrl hv n. slno*nlar sur#><>rk. UlllUrUU'C. XlCl^^ viiv. aiii-fx'!.' iijO'.-,--'i J o 1" The next bend is elliptical, and the third a mere inden- ^'■^9^ 108 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. The points also, are alternately circular, obtuse, and acute angles. Not a small number of them are long, nar- row slips, resembling many of the islands, shooting either horizontally or with an easy declension, far into the lake; and covered as are all the others, with a fine variety of forest. In many places, a smoothly sloping margin, for the distance of 1, 2, or 3 miles presents a cheerfiil border, as the seat of present or future cultivation. In many others, mountainous promontories ascend immediately from the water. The beauties of the shore, and of the islands are at least doubled by being imaged in the fine expanse below; wh^^re they are seen in perpetual succession depending with additional exquisiteness of form, and firmness of co- louring. The mountains as already remarked, consist of two great ranges, bearing the lake from north to south. The west- ern range, however, passes westward of the N. W. Bay; at the head of which a vast spur, shooting towards the south east, forms the whole of the peninsula between that bay and the lake. On the latter it abuts with great majes- ty, in a sudden and noble eminence, crowned with fine summits. Fron Jiis spot, 14 miles from Fort George, it accompanies the lake uninterruptedly to the north end, and then passes on towards Canada. Both these ranges alternately approach the lake, so as to constitute a consi- derable part of its shores; and recede from it to the dis- tance sometimes, of three miles. The summits of these mountains are of almost every fi- gure from the arch to the bold bluff and sharp cone, and this variety is almost eveiy where visible. In some in- stances they are bold, solemn, and forbidding; in many thers, tufted with lofty trees. While casting his eye rn^ STORMING Oi* QUEBEC. 109 ovet them the traveller is fascinated with the iiriniense va«» riety of swells, uiidulations, slopes, and summits, pointed, and arched, with their piny crowns; now near, verdant and vivid; then gradually receding and becoming more obscure, until the scene closes in imsty confusion. Nor is be less awed and gratified with the sudden promontory, the naked cliff, the stupendous precipice, the awful chasm, the sublime and varied eminencCj and the vast heaps of rude and rocky grandeur which he sees thrown together in confusion and piled upon each other by the magnificent hand of nature. There lies the rock by fire shivered— p. 1"?. Between Glenn Falls and lake George, and five mile^ below the latter place there is a rock of about three tons weight, on which the Indians, during the French War, burnt their prisoners. The rock is split into three pieces by fire. Siiliman's Tour to Quebec* And there lies Bloody Pond.— p. 17. Bloody Pond is at a small distance from the rdad on the easlem side, somewhat more than 3 miles south of Fort George. On the 8th September, 1755, a battle was fought at the head of the lake, between the provincial troops under Major-General afterwards Sir William John- son, aided by a body of Indians, led by the celebrated Hendrick, and a body of French Canadians and Indians, commanded by Bai-on Dieskau. After a sanguinary^con- flict, in which the Mohawk chief. Colonel WiUiams, and several other colomal officers, beside a large number of privates were kUled; the French ren^rined masters of the £-ij __j *i „ *!,« o1o;t. mfn the nona — ^which circum- Stance occasioned the name it now bears. JkuighVa Travelst Vol 111. K IV ! I 110 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. But ye would shudder slwuld I tell Wlnit that brave garrison befell.— p. 18. The Marquis of Montcalm, after three ineffectual at- tempts upon Fort WiUiam Henry, made great efforts to besiege it in form, aiid in August 1757, having landed 10,000 men near the fort, summoned it to surrender. The remains of his batteries and other works are still visible, and the graves and bones of the slain are occa- sionally discovered. He had a powerful train of artillery, and although the fort and works were garrisoned by 3000 men, and gal- lantly defended by tlie commander Colonel Monroe, it was obliged to capitulate; but the most honourable terms were granted to Colonel Monroe, in consideration of his great gallantry. The capitulation was, however, most shamefully brok- en: the Indians attached to Montcalm's army, while the troops were marching out of the gate of the fort, drag- ged the men from the ranks, particularly the Indians in the Enghsh service, and butchered them in cold blood. They plundered all without distinction, and murdered women and httle children with circumstances of the most aggravated cruelty. The massacre continued all along the road, through the defile of the mountains, and for many miles tlie miserable prisoners, especially those in the rear, were tomahawked and hewn down in cold blood; it might well be called the bloody defile, for it was the same gi-ound that was the scene of the battles only two years before, 1755. It is said that efforts were made by the I'rench to restrain the barbarians, but they were not restrained; and the miserable remnant of the garrison M'ith difficiiltv reached Vnri V.rlwavA r\^tr,^,io,A u,r *u^ t., .. ^ _ „„^i^,j piixav*v\* uy ui'c ill- dians, although escorted by a body of French troops.- j THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. Ill Fort William Henry was levelled by Montcalm, and has never been rebuilt. Tour to Quebec. The Chamblay stands, &c.— p. 31. Chamblay is built quadrangularly of stone, having the appearance of a castle, the only one of the kind in North America. The country exhibits a romantic prospect— the river in this place shallow, broken, and diffused, rushes down a rocky declivity. The elevated mountain of Chamblay rears itself aloft mid level lands; and con- fines, between its conical summits, a lake of pure water. Heriot. Or to Monte Video's summit let me wind.— p. 64- A spot upon the highest eminence of Talcot Mountain in Connecticut, remarkable for the extraordinary beauty and magnificence of its scenery. Or as the Louard To warn of coming storm. -p. 67. The Louard or Loon is a fowl that frequents the large rivers and lakes of Canada. It is said to be restless be- fore a storm, always announcing it with a very loud and shi'ill cry, which may be heard at the distance of more than a mile. For by my bosom Manitou — p. 80. The Indians, beside the Great Spirit and the other gods who are often confounded with him, have an infinite number of genii, or inferior spirits, both good and evil, who have each their peculiar form of worship. They never address themselves to the evil genii, except to beg of them to do them no hurt. To the others who, in the »» 1 ^^r. /.oUori nlrVJc nnd in the Alffonauin — Manitous, they have recourse in all perils and under- takings, as also when they would obtain some extraordi- 113 THE STOIIMING OF QUEBEC. Ti T"^ 7." """"'="'■"' ''"^^^^'•' '» "«t acquired Id h f K *' P'^'""' """<=" P'«P»™tio„ must be rt . "'" ''"''™ '*• " ''^'"e looked upon a, the most important affair of their whole lives. The prin. cipalcmjumstancesofitarethese: iJ^^^ ^^? "1* "*"'"'"« *^ <='^'*» ^''^' afterwards ^^^.Th.u ,,"■'"■ "'^''*''''>" '"e**"- Whatever thmg the cluld happens to dream of within this space of time IS supposed to be the tutelaiy genius, or rather, this thing ,s held as a symbol, or figure, under which the gemus manifests himself-sometimes it is the head of a b|rd, at other times the foot of some animal or perhaps a bit of wood, m a word-the vUest and most common tWnR imaginab e. This is preserved however with as much care as the Du Penates or household gods among the This soIemnity;ends with a feast, and the custom is likewise to prick on the body of the child the figure of ' \m Okki or Manitou. 6 ^ "* Charlevoix, Letter XXIV. p. 212. MISCELLiAlVEOUS PIECES. INVOCATIOX. O ! thou who with bewitching spell, Can teach the spirit its powers to ply, And with thy influence mild impel, The soul to soar to realms on high, And sing from morning's dawn to even. In strains of loftiest poetry; What e*er thou art yclept in heaven. What e'er on earth thy name may be. Mysterious one ! where'er thou dost reside, Whether in one of heaven's twinkling train, Or in some conk shell 'neath the murmuring tide, From whence thou dost inspire the poet's strain, Or whether in the lonely cave, Washed by old ocean's storm-tossed wave, Or through some rich elysian grove, With fairy spirits thou lov'st to rove. K2 114 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. I now invoke thee to impart A spark of thy seraphic fire, Unto this young ambitious heart, That pants with warm enlarged desire To catch the influence of thy heaven bom art, And sweep the muse's magic Lyre. MEMORY. The fairy forms that hover o'er The dawning of those early days. When fancy just begins to soar, And sport herself in heaven's mild rays, Have power upon the troubled soul. E'en after they have vanished by : Their lingering trace if not console, At least may soothe that vacancy That void that haunts the mind, as years and pleasures fly. When hope's divinest visions flit, And leave the soul in darkness drear, Oh ! who would wish to linger yet, And drag a joyless life out here! MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 115 O ! who would ask another hour ? Who still would to this bleak world cling, 0*er whom life's charms have lost their power Whose heart retains not one lone string To swell responsive to the wild bird's carol- ling : Or if such string remains— 'tis broken, Too rudely swept by notes of wo :— Did not fair memory yield a token. To light us through this vale below. When the soul sinks 'neath floods of sorrow, And nought looks fair that's yet to come -, It bids us from the past to borrow, To snatch a solace from the tomb, And with life's earlier ray, to light its later gloom. ■^8e- TO Oh ! ask me not to thee to give, A line on holy Friendship'-j power, Tho' few have been my years to live, IVe seen so much in my short hour — K3 116 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. So oft have trusted — wept as oft — That I have near a skeptic grown : Near vowed my heart no longer soft, Should be— except to thee alone. But yet I can believe a few, Might with my spirit blend and be In every dark reverse still true— And one such friend, I have in thee. THE PARTING. Fare thee well, for thou art going. Far from those who love thee most, To a distant land unknowing, If one friend shall there accost. Friends must part and kindred sever, It hath been and now must be. Yet thy memory leaves us never. Still we*ll fondly think of thee. PartinD" t*»Q<-s *h'^- ^e-'*h of ft>ol**»'*. Which is sleeping in the breast. MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. Ere its hour around us stealing, Wakes it from its pangless rest. And it now hath stolen round us, Spreading sadness o'er each face, Cold nor tearless hath it found us, Down our cheeks their course they trace Who would chide them at the parting. Where we must exclaim — farewell ! E*en now to my eyes they're starting, Nor return they to their cell. Think of those thou lovest and leavest. When thou'rt far from them away, Nor of all thy thoughts be briefest, Those that thither homeward stray. nr But farewell ! it must be spoken — No /.^ adieu — heaven shield thee well. Memory be of each the token, We but sigh — farewell ! farewell ! 118 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. . I oft have gazed upon that eye By stealth, endeavouring to divine The feelings there that buried lie, Yet strike such restless life to mine. I oft have gazed upon that brow. Seeking to probe its text — the soul. Say, does that furrowed front avow, If woes corrode or passions roll ? But when his glance hath met my own Thus gazing — it was all on fire. Proud curled his lip — dark fell his frown 5 I quailed beneath his kindling ire. Oft when with question I have came, He gave but answer cold or short — Or bitter — but I did not blame : 'Twas but the surface of his heart. But where such varied feelings glow, And still are told to— shared with none ; MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. Scarce may the struck beholder know, To love or hate — to court or shun. Like trace of red volcano's force, Once fatal — ^now that only gleams In fitful flames — but flames that nurse Another storm — e'en so it seems. 119 -^®©- : TO « * * ♦ On her Birth-Day. Enough — enou.srh, dear maid for me, That I thy kindly thoughts possess 5 And know that friendship e'er shall be, Thy generous bosom's constant guest. And often as this day returns, Which welcomed thee to life and light Where'er my humble lot sojourns, My spirit shall retrace its flight. And Friendship's token — ever mine, And ever kept with jealous care, Press t^o tnv liea»'^ as tVio' 'twere thine. With all its feelings blended there. 120 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 1 Who would n^L luve thy modest mien, And spirit lone which most delight, To bloom like violet all unseen, Where gaudier flowers ne'er meet the sight. Thy soul is warm, and mild, and pure, As morning dew on summer flower. O ! may thy joys be sweet and sure. As ever bloomed in virtue's bower. A VISIOX. I had a vision — and it seemed there stood Before my view a being of this world, But not all of this world — for there beamed out From his bright eye a godlike nobleness Of soul, which spake him far above the mass Of those with whom his nature was allied — he stood In dignity of feeling — proud, but far From vain or selfish : like the eagle glorying In his high independence — Nature had For him done every thing — Art nothing. Were but an index to his spirit, which MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 12X Mixed not or blended with those of his fellows. Not that he hated them — but he pursued Not their pursuits — nor hoped their hopes, Nor held their converse; his was but with nature. He bent not at their altars nor partook Of blessed eucharist fronj pious priest, Nor knew, nor wished to know The mystery of their meaning— nor did he dip Into that volume over which men pore, That they may better know to cavil *mong t hem- selves. He held no creed save that which he was taught When he looked out upon the outspread plain— The cloud-capped mountain and the rolling flood— And heaven's blue canopy. He turned from these unto their first great cause, With heart of one who felt th' omnipotence Of him who made, and his own littleness. But time rolled on — Years came and went, and still he was the same. At length there came a thing on gilded wings ; Female in garb and female in appearance, Ar"^ K«l^i - ^i;i4.^..: — ^i.: — u^r u:~ n.iivi uv^ivi a. ^IlLLCiiilg- Lliill^ UClUrC iilS CJCO"'''^ I saw not what it was save that it glittered, 122 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. .1 And threw a ray upon his countenance. Then she retired and beckoned him to follow, He paused, and she returned and held it up again With greater lustre sparkling— tho' reluctant, He then obeyed and followed. But time rolled on — Years came and went, but still I saw him not. At length he came but it was in a mask : He laid it by— I gazed upon him with Close scrutiny, and at a glance beheld In him, all he had once contemned and loathed. A shrivelled form whose nakedness was covered With a few tattered garments— features dark— And altogether earthly-pallid-meagre-wan. Nor glowed there in his eye one beam of soul : It ail had fled—the war and wast . and wreck Oftime— flood— fire— tempest— hurricane— And earth's deep central tremblings never wrought Such change on nature's blooming summer garden, As had been wrought on him— But he resumed His mask and went his way with slow And searching look into the face Oi every passer by and when they past ■tt*!!'v,'J^r- MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 123 He hastened onward— oftimes looking back Distrustful, till no more they met his gaze. summer He went — he mixed him with the world And aped what they are wont to ape. He was all things by turns— I saw him kneel Beside a hundred altars — ^join the prayer Loud as the loudest — but he could smooth his cheek To stillest, meekest seeming— Like a very Job. Then he mixed him with the irreligious. Those who ape it not — far better off Than those who do — moulding himself and thoughts, And their expression to the viler sense Of open libellers of heaven — next at the bar Of justice— not as felon but as felon's helper He stood, and plead For crime and innocence alike. And unabashed practised all the minutise Of pettifogging vice— next with a horde Of heartless politicians he was seen, and only held The strongest best as being the strongest — his sole principle : And thus he won his sinuous ways to office H 124 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. M 1 t The first and last — the Alpha and Omega Of all his aims — Then he was one amidst A crowd of merchants — pedlars— artificers 1 Bartering and bargaining, as best he might. And in all changes he appeared the thing He wished to seem— not less that which he was. But still hypocrisy could not veil all : I That cold and glassy eye — those obdurate lines ' Depicted in his face bespake a soul extinguished : It was as marble to grind down the poor, And to deceive the trusting — I lost him from my gaze. A space elapsed in which I saw him not, I But heard a hue and cry of murdered sire Widow despoiled and orphan portionless. I All mouths at once flew open sending forth Curses and execrations loud and long : They died away tho' not forgotten. Time rolled on— Years came and went, but brought him not ^ agam. At length he came, and ever and anon He prest his spectre arms upon his desolate » ^ bosom, I Where was deposited a roll, which, with the ba g He carried in his hand— ill gotten all MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 125 Remained as it long had and still was to remain His only friend and god— he tottered on Till he arrived faint, weary and exhausted, Old and decrepid, on the very spot Where first I saw him— 'Twas a precipice : And through the vale below a dark flood roU'd. Foul and ill-omened birds o'er skimmed its sur- i^ce*"" And fierce beasts howl'.d upon its either shore. Continual night hung o'er its moaning waves, From which out-peeping flashed the fiery eyes ■ And flaming tail-and yawned the famished mouths, Of horrid monsters-on the very edge Of the o'er hanging precipice he sat him down; Drew forth his roll and conned it often o'er, Ana cursea mmselt as oft that he had not Its value in hard yellow substance. Then he oped his bag and poured his eyes out- (Soul he had none, else it had been his soul) Upon his hoard until it mocked his sight And struck him blind-then he applied his ear. But it was dumb-disconsolate he rose. But had not strength to walk : up from the gulf below Issued a form the counterpart of his, L h . Ill I I'lU 1 126 MSCELLANEOUS PIECES. Except that it had wings— excepting that There was a devilish smile and a demoniac sneer, Spread o'er its lip and caverried in its eye. Its name upon the forehead was engraven In deep bold characters— and it was Avarice. I knew that form again, altho' divested Of all its gorgeous vestments-it spake to him Whom here its syren voice had first allured and said— " My friend, thou'st served me well, And I will now requite thee in this hour Of thy distress, for lo! behold the blood-hounds Have tracked you out, and maddening come upon you." Saying which It snatched his treasure from his hand and va- nished. First plucking him by his white scanty locks. He backward fell-a moment, all was silent- The next a plunging sound came from those depths And broke my slumbers«-can such dream be real ? I M THE END. ..m¥& that demoniac I eye. aven Warice. id ^e to him it allured y / ur i-hounds ng come lich I and va- ' locks, ilent — n those \ 78 CANADA. The Storming of Quebec. \ Poem in Three Cantos, and Miscel- laneous Pieces. By S. W. Taylor. 16mo .1(1 calf. Phila., 1829. <^'(^)%^ Tor the master spirit has escaped all alone, THE STORMING OF aUEBEC. 37 morrow s And Montgomery deems that but trifling is done, For if Carleton has fled, of what worth is his fleet ? In lightsome skiff, at midnight's profound ; With muflled oar that emitted no sound, He eluded the guard-boats below that lay; Why came you not here but yesterday ? Reader farewell I a little space farewell ; E'en now thou may'st be weary of the lay: Here let us pause--the lengthening shadows tell, As do those tinkling bells, the close of day. Eat wilt thou once more list the minstrel— say When he his humble chauntings shall renew ? W^ould they had charms to claim thy longer stay 5 'Tis but of late he sought the muse to woo, And's but a wooer still; once more, a little space adieu ! fi- D mm HM %■ ■' k. . THE STORMIXG OF a^EBEC '5 CANTO SECOND. V ft ■» , 1 Fai Del Wl Sin An Up An W: Nc Tl Le Ai Tl THE ^U STORMIXG OF dUEBEC. ' ' 1 CANTO SECOND. Far to the western horizon, Delighted turns the lingering eye 5 Where to his golden couch the sun Sinks, scattering many a beauteous dye And glowing charm, tho' soon to fly, Upon the fleecy mists of even : And robes the clouds with hues that vie, With all that fancy paints of heaven. Nor towering Alleghany do Thy haughty snow capped summits give, Less brilliant beauty to the view, And still the eye regrets to leave Those charms, tho' they do but deceive j D3 k 1;' t * 42 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. To think of hopes once bright as they, Which now but in the memory live: Alike unreal, short their stay. Yes short indeed, sad to behold: A moment's past, the scene is changed. All now is gloomy, drear, and cold, And joy from nature seems estranged. And Genuis 'gainst thy flight arranged. The storms of adverse fortune lower : Yet whispers hope, not unavenged Shall freedom sink beneath their power. 1 And as those bright tints died away, And night prevailed o'er twilight grey, In those cold mountain regions whence Springs Kennebec's dark violence; Say, heard you not a bugle note Upon the evening breezes broup^ht? And heard you not its echo bound. From cavern mouth and cliff around ? Whilst the affrighted Loup Cervier And Congour dire rose up in fear ; THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. 43 Unused to hear in their wild glen, The tread, or view the forms of men. For ne'er before did mortal bold, Venture into that dreary wold And ne'er before did clarion swell A note upon its rock and dell. And long 'twill be ere mortal more, Shall track that pathless desert o'er. For dread I ween must be the way, Where Indian barb pursues no prey. And barren is the spot, and lell, That ne'er replied to savage yell. Sav heard you not that bugle sound. And echo from the rocks around ? O yes I and loud, and wild it blew 5 O'er hill, o'er rock, o'er stream it flew. And all along Dead river's shore, Full many a crag and cavern hoar. Reverberated o'er and o'er. Until at length its echoes died. Upon Magalloway's dark tide. We turned whence that strange blast had camn But save a watchtire's feeble flame, fe: i *■ 44 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. i: ^1 i And smoke that curling rose: And save the forest towering high, And mountain's brow, unto the eye, The gloom did nought disclose : But ere two suns had rose and set. Full many a glittering bayonet, And polished tube, and broad claymore, And good sword brightly gleamed ', And warrior plumes their helmets o'er, And spangled banners streamed. And well they looked in martial pride. On the Green Mountains' rugged side. Short time those heights their steps delay, Still kept they on their onward way. And plume and banner, man and steed, And blades that burned for battle deed, Behind the mountain's brow were screened, Nor saw we them again : And hardy, bold and brave we weened, Were those adventurous men. 5' liBnlHR And deemed ye so? right true ye deemed: Their deeds have proved them what they seemed. For they were Arnold and his band, THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. Ye saw upon that dismal land. And whose the woes that may compare With theirs, ere to the Chaudiere They came, all by a horrid way, That might the stoniest heart dismay. Arnold I impetuous as the course Of Saguenay deep, fierce and hoarse; Unyielding as the flinty bed. O'er which its foaming billows roll: Thy spirit was to danger bred, And terror's features r^mrmed thy soul. Thine was the head and thine the hand To plot the scheme and wield the brand ; The mind to brave, the frame to bear Fatigue's extreme, without impair : The eagle eye that nought could pall, The warrior spirit — all in all . And long shall history's pages tell. And oft shall minstrel sing how well That patriot baud by thee was led From Wester Fort, to Chaudiere's head. Nor there the minstrel shall suspend 45 lis iiui p, 1 .rjr there thy praises end 5 f ■■ But catching all thy spirit's fire, Ir [ - 46 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. The strain shall rise still high and higher : Recite thy deeds in battle done, The wounds you bare, the crowns you won ; Those laurel crowns won by thy blade, So green they seem'd they ne'er could fade ; And did they only seem ? alas ! How oft that word our lips must pass, Despite of hope and promise given : Then is there nothing true but heaven ? So must he think who thinks of thee. What 1 dauntless Arnold 1 could it be, From patriot thou should'st traitor turn? Each honest breast with scorn shall burn. And many a page shall brand thy name With infamy and lasting shame, j To ignominious doom consign'd. Apostate go ! mix with thy kind 5 If such there be who will not shun, Crime deeper shaded than their own. Go forth 1 a veteran in vice, And revel in thy honour's price ; The curse of Cain is on thy brow. Yet none shall strike the vengeful blow 5 But scorn thy sole companion be, And Europe point as well as we ! THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. Ledyard, to whom thy treason gave, An early and a bloody grave— His ghost shall haunt thee to thy own. Nor 'gainst thee cries his blood alone, But Andre's too is on thy head, By retributive justice shed. Live on, cold traitor I if thou wilt Survive this stain of deepest guilt. Live on I if thy once patriot heart, Could stoop to act this basest part ; Now by thy blushing country curst. Still will not bend, and cannot burst : Live on — in time remorse may flee. Crime such as thine ! wretch such as thee 1 47 Yet, ere thy fall thou wert as bright, As any star that lit the night. O'er freedom's land that came ; Saving that great immortal One — But He was freedom's dazzling sun. Which ever beamed the same : Whose ardour warmed full many a breast, And thine, not least among the rest, ! Was kindled into flame 1 What pity that such generous fire, ^1 I I i\ 48 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. In such a breast should thus expire, And sully such a name I Arnold had came with toil untold, Where Us dark waves Dead river rolled, With soul unshaken as the rock, That meets and stems the billowy shock 5 And Morgan shared the peril too, Than whose was never heart more true 5 And Meigs beside, with Arnold came^ And Ogden— all of goodly fame. But what do they in this dread spot, Where Indians' fearless tread comes not? Save here he come his foe to track, And then— what shall his steps turn back? "The foe to track,"— in sooth I heard Good answer in that echoing word : Ask not again what do they here. Who seeks his foe stops not to fear. An Indian issued from the wood, And strode where Arnold pondering stood. He raised his brow and doffed his plume : 'Tis he ! I know that brow of gloom I The same from Sorer s wave that sprang, THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. 49 Like arrow from the bow-string's twang. Arnold look'd up in mute surprise- Whence r who art thou ? at length he cries 5 Your name, and errand here, declare, Nor aught untrue to utter dare. «I truth will tell as heaven is there, To witness what I here avow. Outauson is the name I bear. The warrior of the furrow'd brow. My tribe, alas I it is not now, But once it was a potent one ; Its warriors are in death laid low, And of their race I'm left alone. I lately journeyed to the spot, Which was my father's wilderness. That pang shall never be forgot— A pang I never can express. Nor days, nor months have made it less : It almost crazed my wandering brain— I stood alone of all the race, That once possessed that wide domain. One tear and only one I shed : I vowed that it should be the last— 14 %'• T' I: 1 J r ■ 'Pli ill 50 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. It fell where sleep the mighty dead — Oh ! it was sweet but soon it past. From thence their fount was frozen fast ; The Pequod left his sire's fair land Like serried leaf on autumn's blast, Or wreck upon the ocean strand. mBmf i Curse on the Narragansett's hate, That would not for a moment change 5 Yet shall they share the Pequod's fate, And that shall slake our just revenge. Areskoui— may they never range Thy western fields and forests o'er, Who leagued with impious white men strange, To drive us from our native shore. * . White man ! I had a brother dear. But lowly lies his eagle crest 5 Wo met the foe who raised the spear. Beneath my arm the sod he press 'd 5 Yet still the wrong is unredress'd: But I will seek my vengeance now, And fiercely fall, it fits me best — The warrior of the furrow 'd brow. i" it jt*- ii THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. Chieftain ! for such thou seem'st to be ; Warrior ! for such I know thou art — Although this tale is nought to thee, Excuse the words unbicl that start From out a chieftain warrior's heart ; If thou art of this band the chief, I have to thee aught to impart — Then will I thus relate it brief. 51 It was a Briton's hand that slew My brother, such that slew my sire — They thirsted for my life blood too, 'Gainst them alone shall turn my ire, In vengeance dreadful, deep, and dire. As late I was by them pursued, I came where Tie's dun towers aspire, And there I found a shelter good. It was not death I fear'd or fled, Or captive's lingering agonies. Outauson never learned to dread Or sword or fire — the last would please Him best — he can face each of these. I knew to stand were but to die, 1 ff I' ,-: ( ■■;! i. -y sS,:. V. \ 52 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. And unreveng^d— then ne'er would cease My kindred's blood 'gainst me to cry. Montgomery deemed me worthy trust, He bade me bring his speech to thee : I came— my path the foeman crossed, My hatchet drank the blood of three I But it was vain— I could not flee ; The speech to thousand shreds I tore, And yielded to the fates' decree, To wait a more propitious hour. It came I they slept, they looked like death 1 In one I fix'd a fatal dart ; One rolled my tomahawk beneath ; — Of two this red knife found the heart. Well did this aged arm its part- It left not one to tell the tale. Or bid the tear of sorrow start. Or raise the widow's mournful wail. And here I am — prepared to go On any service thou'lt assign ; Outauson of the iurrow'd brow. Though few his days must be — is thine. THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. 53 Others did round my pathway twine Like serpents— e'en so shall not I ? Yea, will I ! through each hour that's mine Like adder live— and thus will die." ■S'- Arnold that Pequod chief has sent With written scroll of deep portent To Schuyler's camp ; and he the while, Proceeds upon his way of toil. O'er hill and valley, rock and dell, Through wilds where scarce the wolf will dwell; Through forests where the sun comes not. Nor moon, nor star, is seen thereout 5 But only owlets' orbs that glare, To light them on the way they dare. And shriek till morn the morn renew. In concert with the wild curlew 5 And night-hawks hovering round their path. Like shadows flit, and scream in wrath ; And foxes peep from out their lair. While howls the startled grizzly bear ; And hoarsely falls upon the ear, The roar of torrent dashing near 5 Sear leaves are rustling 'neath the leet Of Moose deer as iEolus fleet. E 2 I i\ 1 r -o ■ .111 54 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. And darker, wilder, as they go, The dism^^l scene appears to grow 5 The wind more bleak and piercing blows, Scarce and more scarce provision grows. When shall such hardships have an end ? Courage — see you yon streamlet wend ? Now banish from your hearts despair. It is the source of Chaudiere. ♦ *»** * * * What form is yon behind the fern, That steals so cautiously along ? Those eyes so oft that backward turn. Betray that aught with him is wrong. What gaze is it he seeks to shun ? Fears he the bear so fierce and dun ? Methinks I've seen that plume before, 'Twas such that dark Outauson bore: The tiger skin around him thrown. Resembles much that chieftain's own 5 That make and form, attire and mien Combined — I've surely somewhere seen. Much like the Pequod's they appear, Yet why should he be wending here ? This is no course his steps to lead To Schuyler's camp with wonted speed. i.m THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. And well he knows this is a way, Where foe to Britain may not stray Alone unchallenged — or may flee Untaken — how then can this be he ? 55 Right well I ween all Quebec rose That morn in haste from their repose, When Arnold's band came near. Still looked and looked in mute surprise, Believing scarce their wond'ring eyes, " How came this army here ? Say, dropt they from the clouds to earth. Or sprang they from her bosom forth, Like Greek, from seed of fear? O heaven ! unless like them they turn Their arms against themselves, we learn To part with all that's dear. »» A panic seized on every heart. He came so sudden and untold :— Like lightnings from the poles that dart, Or thunder from the clouds uprolled. So seemed the glitter of their arms. So seemed their clarion's shrill alarms ; But yet within those walls were two. SI I If, a f u t| I! i r I'MS 56 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. Of whom, one wore not British garb, Who of his secret coming knew : No thanks the-efor to fleetest barb. But Indians' mo-e untiring speed, That left but litt\e want of steed. On Levi's summit Arnold stood, With nought Quebec and him between, Save loud St. Lawrence monarch flood. Which roaring rolled its surges greeii.^ He gazed upon :hat steep dark rock. Whose summit darker towers surmount, As if they would his threatenings mock, And echoing give him back his taunt. He stood — Wolf there had stood before. He gazed — Wolf thus had gazed too, Upon that high opposing shore. Where scantily the wild spruce grew ; And heath and juniper were seen. Yet sprang they only thin and spare. The fissures of the rocks between ; Yet but for these it had not been. Perchance that he had then been there. Without the aid their tendrils lent, Wolf had not gained that steep ascent ; THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. 57 if' Without the aid their tendrils gave, Perchance he might have found a grave Inglorious, while his rival's name — Montcalm I had gained a deathless fame ; And France preserved her ancient sway, O'er all the extent of Canada. And it is so — ^man's fate depends Not less upon the twig that bends ' Within his grasp, than on the brand Whose weight fatigues and frets his hand. Nt less on moments than on days, Or months, or years — the least outweighs, The greatest — it is vain to call One thing most powerful of all. Since all must yield to time and chance. To season, place, and circumstance. A goose saved Rome— things not more great Have ascertained a nation's fate. A twig— it may be — lost for ever. To France a sceptre which to sever, Else had not been in English power. A shrub — the sixtieth of an hour. A SOUud- 14 Have thousands doomed to wo and death. ;« 58 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. That narrow winding path he viewed, It was a devious one, and rude. Cape Diamond lay upon his right, And wide extended on its height Were seen the plains of Abraham : Thy last and fatal field Montcalm ! Thy latest Wolf I yet still thy best. Where thousand warriors with thee rest. He viewed the steep before that lay — " I too will climb that rugged way. Of Arnold it shall ne'er be said. What Wolf o'ercame hath him dismayed. It were a stain upon my name. An e'er enduring blot of shame 5 For Arnold's soul has stood the test Of ordeals which might shake the best. Death and myself have side by side. Dealt blow for blow, given stride for stride. Nor peril's darkest, dreadest hour, E'er brought a panic to my heart 5 Now through whatever storm may lower, It fearless still shall bear its part." Reader farewell — a little space farewell ! E'en now thou may'st be wearier of the lay THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. 59 But still be patient and the muse shall tell, In loftier verse he can not, will not say, But yet in verse as lofty as he mayj The incidents so well already known, Of that most fatal, yet still glorious day :— Again farewell — for lo ! now sets the sun, And other tasks remain ere night falls to be done. m THE STORMING OF aUEBEC. CANTO THIRD. m I > , |.., 1^ 4' 11 ; r THE STORMING OF aUEBEC. CANTO THIUD. Go, ye whom steep and rugged pathways daunt, Go, seek the lawn, and gently sloping mead; The Jessamine bower— the bee's and hum-bird's haunt, And chase the butterfly where'er it lead; And listen to the music of the reed— The mock-birds' notes, and thrushes' sweeter voice. Deeming that such soft scenes are sweet indeed. And in them live and thus to live rejoice— And sing from morn to even— but such are not my choice. Give me to climb the Katskill's devious height. Where the white crested Eagle builds his nest: 64 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. Where pause the clouds upon their humid flight As tho* to seek a momentary rest. Thence to survey surrounding objects drest In hues sublimest nature can bestow, To turn my wrapt gaze north, south, east, and west — O'er mountains bald and fertile vales below : And view the Mohawk's broad, and Hudson's broader flow. H y Or to Monte Video's summit let me wind, Where dwells seclusion — there 'twere sweet to stray Alone and leave life's anxious cares behind ; Where thought might have uninterrupted play And full expression — whence the spirit's way Might be like Eagles soaring o'er each cloud. With steadfast eye upon the orb of day : Piercing the dull mists that are wont to shroud Its feelings and its glow, amid the noisy crowd. The glassy Lake might catch the wandering gaze, And lure the soul ft^om. its supernal flight. Whilst the rich tincture of converging rays. :l flight rest ,st, and ;low : udson's ind, weet to liind ; ;ed play 's way 1 cloud. • shroud crowd. ndering rht. rays. THE STOUMING OF QUEDEC. 6: Should fill it with before unfelt delight. But turning from those scenes so soft and bright, Objects more wild but not less pleasing rise : Forests that frown and rocks as dark as night, Grow darker as they emulate the skies; Whilst round their lofty peaks the raven flits and cries. And furious Connecticut that roars. Leaping o'er hoary ledges, crags that stem And bear its billows back upon their course, Breaks on the ear, whilst all unlike to them Blue Farmington's clear waves so gently tame With graceful sweep wind thro' the valley green ; Di spersing from the mind each trace of phlegm As through embowering shrubs and trees 'tis seen To heave like that calm breast where crime hath never been. Or let me seek that hill of hills, that spot. Ever to be remembered till we lose The name and souls of Freemen— then forgot F2 it',.- w'l 66 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. Be Bunker's Hill, if that its name renews Not in our breasts the fire it did diffuse Into those of our fathers — let the name Of Warren be oblivion — of what use Could his to freedom be — if in our shame The sound of Bunker's Hill, shall not alight her flame. Hail! Liberty! Immortal Goddess! hail- Bright as yon rolling sun that lights the world; While his endures thy light shall never fail: Nor shall thy banners on the earth be furl'd, Until those planets from their orbs are hurl'd — Until those heavens are like a scroll uproll'd — Until those mountains from their base are whirl'd 5 Yes ! here thou shalt thy wide dominion hold, 'Till the loud trump declares, earth must not be more old. Thy spark dies not, although it may be hid, As yon broad disk, by clouds may be obscured : But given " by bleeding sires to sons" that bleed, THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. 67 le alight worlds fail: rlM, n-l'd— oll'd— se are hold, ust not Is ever of some pp^^ot breast assured. Whilst all those siif,s attempted or endured, Gleams as a beacon to their progeny. To light them on their path— or as the Louard To warn of coming storm— and may they be Examples e'er revered, America by thee. But this is not my theme and I must go. Where Tourment Cape towers high as tho' it were To gaze on great St. Lawrence' mighty flow, And trace its wide extending flood to where 'Twixt shores that farther from each other wear Their course, it rolls sublimely to the ocean ; Whilst over 'gainst its summit others rear Their haughty heads, from whence in wild commotion Leaps Montmorency's weight, and hills quake 'neath its motion. hid, icured : ;" that And spray and mist are ever from the chasm Where it has leaped and boils, high into air Rising to meet the clouds like some phantasm, While fancy's reign prevails that seems so fair; ^1 t4 68 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. And form themselves to beauteous rainbows there. Still further clown glide tributary streams 5 And Isle of Orleans yields no little share, Of grandeur to the view, so lone it seems, And yet so stately still enrobed in glory's beams. But there is Quebec proudly on her rock. Rising to meet and to surprise the eye I Bidding defiance to each bellowing shock, Seeming to spurn the earth and seek the sky. And further up Cape Rouge is towering high, Point Levi's heights are on the opposing sh ore Where cling the offspring of sterility : There Savery rolls, and from above the roar Of Chaudiere is heard, its rough rocks dashing o'er. Land of dark floods I stupendous cataracts I Huge naked precipices I forests dread 1 Pathless save where the savage Indian tracks A way which wild beasts haunt— the spirit bred Amid thy scenes— its passions on them fed. Might well be stern, impetuous and strong. THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. 69 Inbows ns; re, ns, J beams. ck, ' • )ck, be sky. ng high, ig shore le roar > clashing 'acts I • I tracks pirit bred m fed, trong. Fearless and free— but whither have I strayed? I had not meant such portion of my song, Should thus be poured but now, my theme shall haste along. It nought avai'S to tell each toil, Each varied daring and each foil. Few pause to ask of minor deeds, When one great scheme fails or succeeds. Suffice to say the weary bands At Point au Tremble shook willing hands, O'erjoyed in this cold cheerless place, To meet whom name of friend might grace : Whence without longer stay they came To the famed plains of Abraham : And Quebec's walls look grimly there. Contemning all the Leaguerers dare. And every pointing spire and vane, The expiring sunbeams ruddy stain. But they shall see a bloodier sight— A darker than the approaching night. A flag is sent, a shower of balls, A t>oi.nH ntid o'er its bearer falls; Whilst the accompanying quick report, 70 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. Bears Carleton's answer loud and short. The letter secretly conveyed— The high and stern demand— the threat— On him have no impression made. Alike they're unregarded yet. Disdainful answer is but given, That chafes Montgomery's fiery mood : "Thou wilt not yield— then witness heaven, I wash my hands of British blood. Bethink thee, haughty Carleton well, If thou canst stand the battle shock, If thou'rt secure from bomb and shell. Bethink thee ere thou darest to mock Our fury, if those rock-thron'd towers Hold not thy foes and freedom's friends. Who wait till but one peal of ours, Proclaims our ruth for ever ends. To rise and make them all their own, And vindicate their trampled rights : It fits thee not that scornful tone, But it may change ere many nights. And sad for thee and thine will be, The night or day, whene'er the hour Shall come, that gives us victory. Avert these woes while in thy power." THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. « Fulfil thy threat 5"— this answer brief, Alone vouchsafed the British chief. it Fulfil thy threat,"— this firm reply, Hath woke the dread artillery. And often has its pealings roared 5 In showers the sweeping iron pour'd. Yet cannon's peal and howitz' blaze, Leave of their fury little trace. Time flies and morn succeeds to morn, With each more wintry blasts are borne. Meantime have crept diseases stern Amid the camp, and fevers burn. And agues shake the feeble frame— And fiery eyes have lost their flame— And arms their strength, and veterans grow Pale beneath the drifting snow, Like a winding sheet outspread, To receive the drooping head. And enfold the breathless form, When the spirit thence has fled ; Leaving it to feast the worm, Slimy reveller o'er the dead I Uo«r Ke«*« thv heart, Montgomery, now ? SUU firm and dauntless is thy brow ? n n THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. Say, in that eye so lately bright, With hope's most ardent, cloudless glare. Are those the shades of coming night, The evening mists of dark despair ? And is that sigh the sigh of one, Who leaves his purpose unfulfilled While yet aught further may be done ? Whom peril's hour can teach to yield ? ]^ot so — though toils and dangers press Around thee— still thou art prepar'd To meet and brave them, nor confess, That all is lost ere all be dar'd. No I He whose parting word with her, By him most cherish'd, lov'd of all, Whose voice than all was mightier, Saving his foster country's call, Was " loved one, thou shalt never blush For thy Montgomery" — words which oft Upon his memory would rush. And with them recollections soft — Yet still they manned him in that hour, When most was needed strengthening power No I he cried it must not be Thou shouid'st ever bhir/n for him. Thy unchang*d Montgomery, Rath< Rather Free: Ere i Or avo 'Twas I Behind The si] O'er si SatCa Where His ch Whos He sat And w Had d Thou£ Withi Its pa; And s But w Hark THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. Rather let his eye grow dim. Rather let the piercing blast, Freeze the current of his heart, Ere it should forget its part, Or avoid the adventurous cast. 73 m 'Twas dusk upon the plain, the sun Behind the western hills went down. The snow was drifting fast and deep, O'er sloping vale and rocky steep. Sat Carleton in his secret hall, Where, in obedience to his call His chieftains came, and with them one Who seem'd the gloomy forests' son 5 He sat him down in silent mood, And who had then his features view'd, Had deem'd that far from undisturb'd, Thought was deep working and perturb'd Within that breast, whose index dark, Its passions was unwont to mark, And sullen long remained aside. But wildly rose at length and cried :— Hark ! hear ye not the loon's shrill note that comes upon the blast, m 74 THE STOUMING OF QUEBEC. And does it but portend the storm that's raging now shall last? Or rather, does it not forewarn of other storm that's nigh, But not to burst from yonder clouds that veil the ethereal sky. E'en now the shadow of my sire is reeking in nay sight, And my brother's bloody corpse I see as on that fatal night ; And they bid me sing my battle song, and gird me for the fray, Where I must mix ere sets again the rolling orb of day. And let my soul but once more soar in battle's fiercest hour, This is the only wish that yet to hold it here hath power. And when my arm hath done its work of death among the foe. Red to his father's shadows let the Pequod's spirit go. And then he sang his feats in wai— The deaths he dealt, the scars he bore 5 THE STORMING OF aUEBEC. 7* Told all the reeking scalps he tore From foe beneath his arm o'erthrown, Recounting all his youth had done With exultation high and wild, Like nature's own untutor'd child. 'Twas night upon the plain, the moon Upon her starry way rode on. But all unseeing and unseen. Through the dark clouds that hung between, As to preclude her gentler view. From deeds of darker, deeper hue. Some stir was in the invester's camp, A still, low sound of measur'd tramp. An echo of commanding word— A sullen plunge at times was heard, Succeeded by a pause so deep, _ •T would seem they all were wrapp d m sleep. But such, nor heavily nor light, Had prest upon one lid that night. Yet seem'd the silence scarcely broke, As half suppress'd a voice thus spoke :- -Tis come! the Wr of final strife! The rolling drum and thrilling fife, J f'frf 76 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. Shall soon awake to desperate life, The slumbering hosts of Brittany. On I those with me who freely go — I £^sk not dastard's succour — No I We strike not with a dastard foe, But one will combat sturdily. Beneath yon valo ir-baffling stones, Our banners fold our tombless bones 5 Or over freedom's conquering sons. Shall on them wave triumphantly. ^'1 lii'iirii'S III K in 4^ Your country looks upon the fight, Great Warren's spirit rolls back the night 5 With all who fell on Bunker's height, To gaze upon your gallantry. She asks revenge for wrongs and shame 5 They bid ye still uphold their fame, And win like them a deathless name. The champions of liberty ! More need I say ? I need not more, To men whom injuries long and sore, THE STORMING OF Q ^^BEC Tf Provok'd and goaded till they swore u War to the knife" with tyranny. Then let us to the scene, of strife, Reserve the roll of drum and fife, Then suddrn rouse to desperate life, The slumbering hor.ts of Brittany I Slow spread the morning's gray twilight, But softened scarce one shade of night. Grown blacker n )W by storm-charged cloud, That gives to all a sabler f i.roud. The spirit of the tempest wakes The roar of elements, that breaks Upon and stur; s the startled ear. More loud, and it would seem more near. With fury which the wild winds swell, Dash Montmorency and Ou lie. St. Charles-St. Thomas-Chaudiere, And further up Jacques Cartier— To mingle with the expansive flow, That meets the ocean far below. And massy ice-bergs le. ,nng down From hcighl terrific, or upthrown 'Gainst rocky shores, are wreck'd and lost, G 2 78 THE STORMING OF QUEBEC. From Camourasca*s craggy shore, The sca-woir's howl, the ceaseless roar From forest cave of beasts of prey, Are heard-— all nature seems to say, ' COM, i„ hpi- ouraee talis, Their ardour cools— hei "» 5 They falter now no longer bold: bL Morgan's thundering trump recalls. They rally-and ^^^^'^^ZlT^^^^^^^^- Lowers black as those m storms ^.^Lk'methinks that voice so loud, "Cisabeartunbent-unbending. «The ladders to the parapet I ^^ The ladders', plant them qu.ck^ there. Kigbt promptly are they. .^-^^ But who to mount those wa At once a score of trumpets bayed A war note shrill and wide . Then Potteraeld, thou undismayed Wert first to tempt that escalade- Heth soon was at thy side. _ Nor, Hendrick,wert thou of the last. Whose shadows were upsbooting cast, Upon those mural stones.