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I"i:i- Mi'Nsi:i.i,s SON'S 1S93 io. 20. TO (Beneral 3. Matte ^e ipe^etcr, OF DUTCHESS CO., S. N. Y., WHOSE WRITINGS. BOTH ON REVOLUTIONARY AND EUROPEAN HIS TORIES AND OUR LATE CIVIL WAR, ENTITLE HIM TO THE FIRST RANK AS A MILITARY CRITIC, AND WHOSE PATRIOTISM AND EFFORTS IN EVERYTHING WHICH TENDS TO THE ADVANCEMENT OF THE PUBLIC WEAL DEMAND THE GRATITUDE OF EVERY TRUE CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES, ^r int, THIS WORK IS DEDICATED BY HIS FRIEND ^c autljor. f ■HP^H TABLE OF CONTENTS. Ballads Relating Especially to General Burgoyne "^""i Ballads on the Death of General Eraser m Ballads on the Death of Jane McCrea 128 Poems on the Battle of Oriskany 208 Poems on the Battle of Bennington 215 Poems on the Battles of Bkmus Heights and Saratoga 234 APPENDICES. CHAPTER I. The Forces under Burgoyne and Gates "^275 II. Sketch of General Gates 279 III. Burgoyne's Proclamation 285 IV. Sketch of " Tim" Murphy, the Sharpshooter 290 V. Sketch of Lady Harriet Acland 303 VI. Sketch of Jones, the Lover of Jane McCrea 319 VIL Sketch of General J. Watts de Peyster 328 VIII. Sketch of "Parson" Allen, the Hero of Bennington.... 335 IX. History of the "Old Catamount Tavern" at Benning- ton 337 X. Spelling of the Name of Bemus 3,2 XL Sketch of Dr. A. W. Holden 349 ^"w^jiim^tttttv^tM.^^^ "'w^^^niPi PREFACE. In giving to the public, and especially to those who have my " Burgoyne's Campaign and St. Leger's Ex- pedition," a few words are, perhaps, necessary to explain the purpose of the present work. During my researches while engaged upon that par- ticular episode of our Revolutionary history, I came across a number of quaint ballads relating to that campaign par excellence;''' and it occurred to me that my subscribers to "Burgoyne's Campaign" would gladly welcome an addenda, so to speak, of that work. Hoping, therefore, that those of my friends who have so kindly aided me in my former publications will appreciate the spirit in which this volume has been prepared, I have published it, though at a pecuniary sacrifice to myself. My thanks are due for help in this compilation to Gen- * I use this phrase advisedly, since all historical students know that Frank Moore has given us a little volume on " Revolutionary Poems." This collection however, though admirable, does not include, save in a very few instances, those which particularly relate to the campaign of Burgoyne. TT^'^'^^mmm ■M 12 Preface. eral John Meredith Read, Consul-General to France at Paris during the Franco-German War, the siege of that city and the Commune, and for many years United States Minister to Greece ; Mr. James A. Holden, of Glens Falls, N. Y. ; Mr. Charles M. Bliss, of Bennington, Vt. ; Mrs. Charles Stone, of Sandy Hill, N. Y. ; Mr. Franklin Burdge, of New York City ; Mr. Jared C. Markham, the architect of the Saratoga Monument,of Jersey City, N. J.; Mr. Theo- dore F. Dvvight, of the Boston Public Library ; Mr. William T. Peoples, of the New York Mercantile Library ; Mr. George Watson Cole, of the Jersey City Free Library ; Mr. Frederick Saunders, of the Astor Library ; Dr. Smith Ely, of New burgh, N. Y. ; Mr. John W. Jordan, of Philadelphia, Pa. ; Mr. Bauman L. Belden, of Elizabeth, N. J. ; Hon. Charles S. Les- ter and Hon. Winsor B. French, of Saratoga Springs, N. Y., and Mr. August Hund, of Hoboken, N. J. — to all of whom I here return my hearty thanks.* * Mrs. Julia C. Dorr, of Rutland, Vt, the deservedly celebrated poetess, contributed to the Bennington Centennial an exquisitely beautiful poem entitled " Vermont." As, however, it contains only one or two incidental allusions to the battle of Bennington, and does not, therefore, come within the scope of this work, it is not given in this collection. William L. Stone. Mt. Vernon, N. Y., October i, 1893. ; I THE BURGOYNE BALLADS. SKETCH OF GENERAL BURGOYNE. It seems eminently proper for a just appreciation of the circumstances under which the following ballads were written, that the reader should have a sketch of the personage who called them forth. John Burgoyne, a British soldier, was born on February 24th, 1723. He was the eldest son of John Burgoyne and Anna Maria, daughter of Charles Burneston of Hackney, in Middlesex. The popular belief that he was a natural son of Lord Bingley is pure fiction, and had its rise in the malicious gossip of that prince of gossips — Horace Walpole. Burgoyne was educated at Westminster, and entered the army at an early age. While at Preston with his regiment he eloped with Lady Charlotte Stanley, daughter of the eleventh Earl of Derby ; and the earl, becoming rec- onciled to the marriage, obtained for him a captaincy in the Eleventh Dragoons, June 14th, 1756. He was in the attack on Cherbourg in 1758, and also in the abortive attempt on St. Malo the same year; was ap- pointed, May loth, 1758, captain-lieutenant in the Coldstream Guards, and the following year was pro- moted to the command of the Sixteenth Dragoons, called subsequently " Burgoyne's Light-horse." He was elected to Parliament in 1762, held his seat in that mUm 2 The Burgoyne Ballads. body continuously until his death, and took an active part in matters relating to India, hence incurring the displeasure of "Junius," by whom he was severely criticised. He was made major-general, May 25th, 1772. Appointed to a command in America, he arrived in Boston, May 25th, 1775, and witnessed the battle of Bunker Hill, of which he gave a graphic descrip- tion in a letter to his brother-in-law. Lord Stanley. He was commissioned, January ist, 1776, lieutenant-gen- eral in America only, and took part in the opera- tions of that year for expelling the Americans from Canada ; but in November, dissatisfied with his sub- ordinate position under Carleton, he returned to Eng- land. In December of that same year he concerted with the British ministry a plan for the campaign of 1777. A large force under his command was to go to Albany by way of Lakes Champlain and George, while another body, under Sir Henry Clinton, advanced up the Hudson. Simultaneously, Colonel Barry St. Leger was to make a diversion, by way of Oswego, on the Mohawk River. In pursuance of this plan, Burgoyne, in June, began his advance with one of the best-equipped armies that had ever left the shores of England. Proceeding up Lake Champlain, he easily forced the evacuation of Crown Point, Ticonderoga and Fort Anne. But in- stead of availing himself of the water-carriage of Lake George, at the head of which there was a direct road to Fort Edward, he advanced upon that work by land, consuming three weeks in cutting a road through the woods and building bridges over swamps. This gave time for Schuyler to gather the yeomanry together, and for Washington to re-enforce that general with troops, under Morgan, from the Southern Department. Bur- goyne, also, lost valuable time and received a fatal MMik The Bnrgoyne Ballads. 3 check by his disastrous attack on Bennington. At length, finding his progress stopped by the entrench- ments of Gates at Bemus Heights, nine miles south of Saratoga (Schuylerville, N. Y.), he endeavored to extricate himself from his perilous position by fighting. Two battles were fought on nearly the same ground on September igth and October 7th, 1777. The first was indecisive: the second resulted in so com- plete a rout for the British, that, leaving his sick and wounded to the compassion of Gates, Burgoyne re- treated to Saratoga. Here, finding that his provi- sions were giving out. Stark in his rear, and that there was no chance of escape, he capitulated with his en- tire army, October 17th, 1777. This event was the turning-point in the American Revolution. It se- cured the French alliance, and lifted the clouds of moral and financial gloom that had settled upon the leaders, even the hopeful Washington. Burgoyne, until his unfortunate campaign, stood very high in his profession. He had made a most brilliant record on the banks of the Tagus for dash under that master in the art of war, the famous Count Schaumberg-Lippe. He also added to a prepossessing exterior the polished manners and keen sagacity of a courtier. He was likewise witty and brave, but he was also hasty and self-willed. Desirous of doing everything himself, he rarely consulted with others ; yet he never knew how to keep a plan secret. While in a subordinate position he was continually carping at his military superiors; yet when given a separate command, he was guilty of the same faults that he had reprehended in others. His boastful ways — as will be seen in some of the following ballads — drew upon him the nicknames of "Sir Jack Brag" and "Chrononnotonthologos," a character in a burlesque 4c The Burgoyne Ballads. play by Henry Carey. Being a sybarite, he often neglected the duties of a general ; and while he was enjoying his wines and choice food, his army suffered the keenest want. Early in 1778 he returned to Eng- land, and justly threw the failure of the expedition upon the Ministry, since, in arranging the campaign, he had most strenuously insisted that success depended upon Howe's co-operation. Had he been properly supported, he would, despite mistakes, have unques- tionably reached Albany, as Gates would not have been at Bemus Heights to oppose him. On his arrival in England he was received very coldly by the court and people, the king, indeed, refusing to see him.* Having in vain demanded a court-martial, he finally succeeded in obtaining a hearing on the floor of Parliament; and in 1780 he published a narrative of the campaign and a vindication of himself in a work entitled "A State of the Expedition." Joining the opposition, he resigned, in 1779, all his offices. Upon a change in the ministry, he regained somewhat of his popularity, and in 1782 was restored to his rank in the army, and appointed prize-councillor and commander-in-chief in Ireland. In 1784 he retired from public life, and, possessing considerable literary ability, amused himself in writing numerous comedies and poems, which were published in two volumes in 1808. He had already, while in America, written two farces, entitled respectively " The Siege of Boston" and " The Maid of the Oaks," both of which were performed with great klat. Two o^her dramas, both of which * Indeed, had the kiug; granted him an audience, it would have been tantamount to acknowledging that he, George III., had erred — and when was a king, especially this one, e 7er known to admit a mistake ! The Burgoyne Ballads. 5 were equall)' successful, were " The Lord of the Manor" and " Richard Cceur de Lion." He was also the author of a comedy entitled "The Heiress," which had a great run, and has been pronounced by competent critics "one of the best productions of the modern British drama." The tale of " The Lord of the Manor" seems, in some degree, to have been disguised in the modification of the character and circumstances by the incident of his own matrimonial connection ; for, as above stated, his was a clandestine and unauthorized mar- riage, at a time when he held only a subaltern's com- mission in the army, and is said to have excited at first the resentment of the lady's father to such a degree that he declared his resolution never to admit the offenders into his presence. As we have seen, a reconciliation was effected, and was succeeded by a war'^ md lasting attachment. It is probable, also, t\ ..le memory of his wife, who died in 1776, at Kensington Palace, during his absence in America, is embalmed by the affectionate regrets of Burgoyne in that beautiful air of his composition : "Encompassed in ^n angel's frame, An angel's virtues lay ; Too soon did heaven assert the claim, And call its own away. " My Anna's worth, my Anna's charms, Must never more return ! What now shall fill these widow'd arms, Ah me ! my Anna's urn !"* * One would suppose from this affectionate effusion that his devoted attachment to his wife — and of that fact there seems to be no doubt — would have pre- 6 The Burgoyne Ballada. r Burgoyne, also, was one of the managers of the trial for the impeachment of Lord Hastings, but he did not live to see the result of that famous trial, his death occurring in London, on August 4th, 1792, caused by gout in the stomach. There were, how- ever, not a few of his enemies who did not scruple to say that he was a suicide, one American Loyalist, who was in England at the time, and resided within a few doors of his (Burgoyne's) dwelling, writing home as follows : " He fell by his own hand, a prey to dis- appointment and neglect." There seems, however, to be no real foundation for this statement. By his wife, Burgoyne had but one daughter, who died in childhood ; but by Miss Susan Caulfield, after his wife's death, he had four children, of whom the vented the licentious conduct of Burgoyne during his American campaign (see the account of his revelling in the arms of his mistress during the suflferings of his army, just before his surrender, as given by Mrs. Gen- eral von Riedesel, " Letters of Madame von Riedesel," Munsell & Son, Albany, N. Y.) ; but these inconsis- tencies are hard to account for. Indeed, public men of that time seem to have thought that the breaking of their marriage vows was but a venial offence. On this subject see Alexander Hamilton's account of his liaison With a woman, given unblushingly to the public as a defence against the charge of his having, while Secretary of the Treasury, been careless in money affairs. This pamphlet, in which Hamilton gave this statement to the public, is now extremely rare, the only two copies of it in existence, as we are aware, being one in the library of the New York Historical Society, and the other in the possession of Mr. B. L. Belden, of Elizabeth, N. J. The JBurgoyne Ballads. ^ late Sir John Burgoyne, of Crimean fame, was the eldest. His descendants have filled many honorable positions in the British army and navy, and several of them are still (1893) living-. For an exhaustive sketch of Burgoyne and an analysis of his campaigns, See " Hadden's Journal," edited by that indefatigable and authoritative writer, General Horatio Rogers, of Providence, R. I.* BURGOYNE'S PROCLAMATION.f [a burlesque ballad by Governor William Livingston, of New Jersey. First published in the AVw Vori Journal, September 8th, 1777.] By John Burgoyne and Burgoyne John, sir. And grac'd with titles still more higher, * As there are a number of allusions in the follow- ing ballads to the forces of the two contending armies, and as scarcely any writer, either contemporary or otherwise, agrees in the number, it is thought entirely germane to the present work to give in Appendix No. I. a correct authorized statement both of the beleaguering army, under Gates, and of those who surrendered to it, under Burgoyne. f As a prelude to his operations, Burgoyne issued from Crown Point, on Lake Champlain, a pompous, grandiloquent, and haughty-minded proclamation, in which, after reciting a number of his own titles, eked out with a string of e^ cetceras, to indicate the rest, he made a magnificent parade of the number and strength of his army, and displayed in formidable view the body of savages by which he announced he was going to accomplish great things ; at the same time com- manding the Americans to lay down their arms 8 I7ie Burgoyne Ballads. ' i I- For Vm lieutenant-general too, Of Georgie's troops both red and blue, and return to their duty, and promising them mercy upon their speedy submission, but threatening them with the most terrible vengeance if they persisted in their rebellion. The effects of this proclama- tion, however, were entirely different from what its author surmised would be the case. Instead of the terror which he thought it would excite, it produced throughout the colonies only indignation and con- tempt. Governor Livingston, of New Jersey (and not Francis Hopkinson, as some have supposed), by turning it ingeniously into Hudibrastic verse, made the proclamation an object both of general derision and of diversion. John Holt, of New York City, an old and highly respectable editor, published it in his newspaper, the Gazette, in Poughkeepsie, heading it with " Pride Goeth before Destruction, and a Haughty Spirit before a Fall." " It is," says Dr. Dwight, in his "Travels," "remarkable that the four most haughty proclamations issued by military commanders in mod- ern times have prefaced their ruin — this of General Burgoyne, that of the Duke of Brunswick, when he was entering France, that of Bonaparte in Egypt, and that of General Le Clerc, on his arrival at St. Domingo." To this list might also be added that of General Lee of the Confederate Army in our late Civil War, just previous to his surrender. Governor William Livingston, the author of this poem and the Governor of New Jersey, was born in Albany, N. Y., November 30th, 1723, and died in Elizabethtown, N. J. (now Elizabeth), July 25th, 1790. He was graduated at Yale in 1 741, at the head of his class, and then began the study of law under I The Burgoyne Ballads. ' 9 On 'this extensive continent, And of Queen Charlotte's regiment Of eight dragoons the colonel, And governor eke of Castle Will, And furthermore when I am there, In house of commons there appear, (Hoping ere long to be a peer) Being a member of that virtuous band Who always vote at North's command, Directing too the fleets and troops From Canada as thick as hops ; And all my titles to display, I'll end with thrice et cetera. The troops consign'd to my command, Like Hercules to purge the land. Intend to act in combination With th' other forces of the nation, James Alexander, completing his course under William Smith. He served with distinction in many civic and State offices, and in 1787 was a delegate to the convention that framed the United Slates Consti- tution. He was also one of the original trustees of the New York Society Library, and in 1751 was made one of the trustees of King's (now Columbia) College, but declined to qualify when he found that the Presi- dent must be a clergyman of the Church of England. He was the author of various works of distinction in their day. As President Dvvight says, " His imag- ination was brilliant, his wit sprightly and pungent, his understanding powerful, his taste refined and his con- ceptions bold and masterly. His views of political subjects were expansive, clear and just. Of freedom, both civil and religious, he was a distinguished cham- pion." »» .. hiiiiiiiiimwn HM]|*MMUUBMUtaiM44b I J) 10 The Burgoyne Ballads. Displaying wide tiiro' even' quarter What Britain's justice would he after. It is not difficult to show it, And every mother's son must know it, That what at first she meant to gain By requisitions and chicane, She's now determined to acquire By kingly reason ; sword and fire. I can appeal to all your senses, Your judgments, feelings, tastes and fancies ; Your ears and eyes have heard and seen, How causeless this revolt has been ; And what a dust your leaders kick up. In this rebellious civil hickup. And how upon this curs'd foundation, Was rear'd the system of vexation. Over a stubborn generation. But now inspired with patriot love I come th' oppression to remove ; To free you from the heavy clog Of every tyrant demagogue, Who for the most romantic story. Claps into limbo loyal Tory, All hurly burly, hot and hasty. Without a writ to hold him fast by ; Nor suffers any living creature (Led by the dictates of his nature), To fight in green for Britain's cause, Or aid us to restore her laws ; In short the vilest generation Which in vindictive indignation, Almighty vengeance ever hurl'd From this to the infernal world. A Tory cannot move his tongue, But whip, in prison he is flung, The Burgoyne Ballads. His goods and chattels made a prey By those vile mushrooms of a day, He's tortur'd too, and scratch'd and bit And plung'd into a dreary pit ; Where he must suffer sharper doom, Than ere was hatched by church of Rome. These things are done by rogues, who dare Profess to breathe in freedom's air. To petticoats alike and breeches Their cruel domination stretches, For the sole crime, or sole suspicion, (What worse is done by th' inquisition ?) Of still adhering to the crown. Their tyrants striving to kick down, Who by perverting law and reason. Allegiance construe into treason. Religion too is often made A stalking horse to drive the trade. And warring churches dare implore Protection from th' Almighty Pow'r ; They fast and pray, in Providence Profess to place their confidence ; And vainly think the Lord of all Regards our squabbles on this ball ; Which would appear as droll in Britain As any whims that one could hit on ; Men's consciences are set at naught Nor reason valued at a groat ; And they that will not svvear and fight Must sell their all, and say good-night. By such important views they're pres't to, I issue this, my manifesto. I, the great knight of de la Mancha, Without Squire Carleton my sancho, 11 "'t*-'^"'**'**#W!(a: 'i« J: Sd T/te Burgoyne Ballads. Oft his camp muses he'll parade At Boston in the grand blockade, And well invoked with punch of arrack, Hold converse sweet in tent or barrack. Inspired in more heroic fashion. Both by his theme and situation ; While force and proclamation grand. Rise fair beneath his plastic hand* this, as in many other things, he, as well as the Brit- ish officers, was grievously disappointed. Howe and Clinton and some of their subordinates expected to crush the rebellion in a week almost ; and it is said that they actually brought fishing-tackle with them to have some fine sport after the smoke of gunpowder had cleared away. * Burgoyne's proclamations, like those of Gage, were, as before stated, very pompous, and caused the wits of the day to publish in a burlesque vein counter-proclamations, as the ballads in this volume show. He was evidently very fond of making them, for he always delighted in the use of his pen. While in Boston, for instance, during the siege, he wrote a farce called " Boston Blockaded/' in which the person designed to represent Washington enters with un- couth gait, wearing a large wig, a long, rusty sword, and attended by a servant armed with a dilapidated and rusty gun. Other American officers in this same play were similarly burlesqued. While this farce was in course of performance in the temporary theatre in Boston, on the night of January 8th, 1776, a ser- geant suddenly entered and exclaimed: "The Yan- kees are attacking our works on Bunker Hill!" The audience at first thought this was a part of the performance, and laughed immoderately at the idea. The Burgoyne Ballads. 23 For genius swells more strong and clear When close confined, like bottled beer; So Prior's wit gained greater pow'r, By inspiration of theTow'r;* And Raleigh fast in prison hurl'd Wrote all the history of the world ;t So Wilkes grew, while in gaol he lay. More patriotic ev'ry day, But found his zeal, when not confined, Soon s'nk below the freezing point, And public spirit once so fair, Evaporate in open air.;}; but they were soon undeceived by the burly voice of Howe shouting: "Officers, to your alarm posts!" The people, it is needless to say, dispersed in the greatest confusion. The fact was, that majors Knowlton, Carey and Henley, three gallant American officers, had crossed the mill-dam from Cobble Hill, and had set fire to some houses in Charlestown, at the foot of Bun- ker Hill, occupied by some British soldiers. They burned eight houses, killed one man and carried off five prisoners. * Matthew Prior wrote his " Alma," the best of his works, while in confinement in the Tower of London. f Sir Walter Raleigh wrote his famous "History of the World " while confined in the Tower of London on a charge of treason. The first volume appeared in 1614. ;]: John Wilkes was a fearless political writer dur- ing the early years of the reign of George HI., in whose flesh he was a constant thorn, and was for a long time editor of the North Britain. In the forty- fifth number of that newspaper, published in 1763, he uttered sentiments considered libellous, and was sent f ^ S4 The Burgoyne Ballads. But thou, great favorite of Venus * By no such luck shalt cramp thy genius; to the Tower. H is arrest was proved to he illegal, and he was released. For several years subsequent, as editor, as alderman in London and as a member of the House of Commons, he was considered a very dangerous enemy to the Crown. Wilkes was a licentious, un- principled man; and because he wrote an indecent " Essay on Woman " he was arraigned before the King's Bench, and, upon conviction, was expelled from Par- liament. He afterward obtained a verdict against Wood, the under-secretary of State, with $5000 dam- ages, and soon went to Paris. He afterward returned to England, and was again elected to the House of Commons, in 1768, but was deprived of his seat. He became Lord Mayor of London in 1774, when he took his seat in the House of Commons, becoming a stanch friend of the Americans in their contest with Great Britain. He was subsequently Chamberlain of London. Wilkes flourished but in the midst of agita- tion. When out of the troubled sea of politics, he sunk into obscurity, and died in the Isle of Wight, in 1797, at the age of seventy years. Vox a detailed account of the political career of Wilkes, the reader is referred to "The Journals of Horace Walpole, during the Reign of George HL" * In allusion to the well-known licentious propen- sities of Burgoyne. It was at this time a well-known fact — since confirmed by the letters of Mrs. General von Riedesel — that during the retreat of his army after the disastrous defeat of October 7th, he thought much more of enjoying the charms of his mistress than of how to administer to the comfort of his forlorn troops. " Bur- goyne, however," says Mrs. General von Riedesel, in her The Burgoyne Ballads. 25 Thy friendly stars till wars shall cease, Shall ward th' ill fortune of release, And hold them fast in bonds not feeble, In good condition still to scribble. Such merit fate shall shield from firing. Bomb, carcass, langridge and cold iron, Nor trusts thy doubly laurel'd head To rude assaults of flying lead. Hence in this Saratogue retreat. For pure good fortune thou'lt be beat ; Nor taken oft, released or rescued. Pass for small change, like simple Prescott ;* Journal, "would not, though urged by his generals, think of a farther advance that night ; and while his army were suffering from cold and hunger, and every one was looking forward to the immediate future with apprehension, the illuminated mansion of General Schuyler [of which he had taken possession] rang with singing, laughter and the jingling of glasses. There Burgoyne was sitting with some merry companions, at a dainty supper, while the champagne was flowing. Near him sat the beautiful wife of an English com- missary, his mistress. Great as the calamity was, the frivolous general still kept up his orgies. Indeed, some were of the opinion that he had merely made that inexcusable stand for the sake of passing a merry night." See Stone's " Burgoyne's Campaign," pp. 87, 88. * General Prescott was twice taken prisoner during the Revolution. The first time he was captUicd at Montreal by Montgomery, near the close of 1775 ; and the second time he was seized in his rooms, while in command of the British forces in Rhode Island, in July, 1777. He was taken to the headquarters of the American army, and afterward exchanged for UM>Vkt- t-*.^ ri 26 If ! The Burgoyne Ballads But captured then, as fates befall, Shalt stand thy hand for't, once for all. Then raise thy daring thoughts sublime, And dip thy conq'ring pen in rhyme, And changing war for puns and jokes. Write new blockades and maids of oaks* that traitor, General Charles Lee, who had been cap- tured in New Jersey in the December previous. The circumstances of his last capture were these: Colonel William Barton, with a few men in whale-boats, crossed Narragansett Bay in the night, for the purpose of seizing Prescott, who was a most despicable, petty tyrant of, as Lossing well says, " the meanest stamp." He was, like Lee — for whom, as has been said, he was afterward exchanged — taken from his bed, conveyed across to Warwick, and thence to Providence, and afterward to headquarters. A full account of the affair, with a portrait of Barton and a picture of the house from which Prescott was taken, may be found in Lossing's " Pictorial Field-Book of the Revolution." * This is another allusion to Burgoyne's farce of " The Siege of Boston." " The Maid of the Oaks" was another farce from his fertile and versatile pen — for that he had extraordinary literary ability no one can doubt — a play which was much thought of, and was often performed in the English theatres. He also wrote a comedy, as mentioned in the introduction to the " Burgoyne Ballads" (see ante), entitled " The Heiress," which had a great reputation. For many of the above notes I am indebted to my old friend, the late Mr. Benson J. Lossing, who first published them in an annotated edition of " McFingal." The Burgoyne Ballads. 27 THE PROGRESS OF SIR JACK BRAG* Said Burgoyne to his men, as they pass'd in review, Tullaio, tuUalo, tullalo, boys ! These rebels their course very quickly will rue. And fly as the leaves 'fore the autumn tempest flew, When him who is your leader they know, boys! They with men have now to deal. And we soon will make them feel, Tullalo, tullalo, tullalo, boys! That a loyal Briton's arm and a loyal Briton's steel Can put to flight a rebel as quick as other foe, boys ! Tullalo, tullalo, tullalo — Tullalo, tullalo, tullalo-o-o-o, boys ! *" Burgoyne, more frequently than any other British officer, was the butt of the Continental wits. His verses were parodied, his amours celebrated in the songs of the mess-table, and his boasts and the weaker points in his nature caricatured in ballads and petite comedies. We obtained a manuscript copy of the song from which the above verses are quoted from an octogenarian Vermonter, who, with feeble frame, shrill voice and silvered locks of eighty-seven, would give the echoing chorus with as much enthusiasm as when he joined in it with his camp companions more than half a century ago. The only clue to its authorship with which we are acquainted is the signature, * G. of H.' It was probably written soon after its hero's defeat at Saratoga." — Rufus W. Grisivold, in the America7i Supplement to Disraelis " Curiosities of Literatiire'' 28 The Burgoyne Ballads. As to Sa-ra-tog'* he came, thinking how to Jo the game, Tullalo, tuUalo, tullalo, boys ! He began to fear the grubs, in the branches of his fame, He began to have the trembles lest a flash should be the flame, For which he had agreed his perfume to forego, boys ! No lack of skill, but fates. Shall make us yield to Gates, Tullalo, tullalo, tullalo, boys ! The devil may have leagued, as you know, with the States ! But we never will be beat by any mortal foe, boys ! Tullalo, tullalo, tullalo — Tullalo, tullalo, tullalo-o-o-o, boys ! * The present word " Saratoga," the world's famous watering-place, has had many different spellings. Dr. Steel says, in his work, that it is a corruption of the Indian word Sah-rah-ka, meaning " the side hill," and "was applied by the natives more particularly to that part of the country which lies between Saratoga Lake and the Hudson, where the application of the term is amply justified by the appearance of the country." This explanation, however plausible, I believe is not correct. Saratoga is an Indian word of the Iroquois language, derived from " Saragh-aga" or "oga," and, ac- cording to Sir William Johnson, means " the place of the herrings," from the fact that, in early colonial times, before the mills were built at Troy, Schuylersville, etc., herrings used to run up in large shoals into Saratoga Lake by way of Fish Creek and the Hudson. The inflections "oga" and "aga" are local phrases, and sig- nify "place" or "inhabitants of." In the same sense The Burgoyne Ballads. BURGOYNE'S DEFEAT. (From an old pamphlet.) Ye powers above, look down and pity our case, For the once great Burgoyne is now in distress; For I am surrounded with a numerous foe, Which I fear my whole army will soon overthrow. O curs'd be the men that did us deceive,* And curs'd be old Schuyler, that made us believe the mflection " aga" is used in the words On-ond-aga, Sac-and-aga, Ti-con-der-aga, Ca-nand-aga, etc. See Stone's " Life of Sir William Johnson ;" also Henry Schoolcraft's letter to the author. * Alluding to Philip Skene (after whom Skeneshor- ough, now Whitehall, N. Y., was named), who continual- ly advised Burgoyne to pursue Schuyler and to under- take the expedition against Bennington, telling him most positively that all he (Burgoyne) had to do was to leave some plunder in his track, when all the Am- ericans would be so engaged in gathering it up, that he could easily overcome them. Skene, also, was responsible for the fatal mistake Burgoyne made of taking the route from Whitehall to Fort Edward by way of Wood Creek, instead of at once proceeding by way of Lake George by water-carriage — a course which gave Schuyler ample opportunity of obstructing his path by felling trees, etc., thus giving time foi the yeomanry to rally and for Washington to send Mor- gan to the help of Gates. This advice was given to Burgoyne by Skene solely to enable him, at the army's expense, to have a good road cut for him from Skenesborough (Whitehall, N. Y.) to the lower set- II .-J!*** ' ^i m The Burgoyne Ballads. 1 ^ I' i That he would retreat before us and make no alarm 'Till we'd landed in Albany free from all harm. O, I am surrounded with sorrow and grief, Ye Goddess Diana, O ! send some relief, Or send me some comfort my mind for to feed, Or send me a cordial, for I ne'er had mc ed. And now fellow-soldiers, what to advise . do. Go forward we cannot — nor back we can't go. And if we stay here we surely must die ; My heart is overwhelmed, O ! where shall I fly ? What say you, my lads, must we yield unto men That we've so long held in so great disdain, And called them rebels and despised Yankees too. And looked upon them as a cowardly crew ? O, safety says yes, but honor says no — Our case is deplorable, what shall we do ? Our honor is sweet, but our lives are more dear. My eyes do break forth in a fountain of tears. O curs'd be the day that I e'er came here. And crossed the Atlantic to buy wit so dear; And curs'd be the villains that did so much hurt By carrying to England so false a report. For it is commonly reported in fair England That the sight of one Briton will make ten Yankees run — The report of a cannon will make Yankees fly,* E'en were they as numerous as stars in the sky. tlements. See Ramsey's " American Revolution," than which there is no better authority. * Burgoyne is said to have stated to his king that I The Burgoyne Ballads. gj But alas ! by experience I find it is false ; For of the two, Yankees are better than us ; They will fight with great valor in the operi field- Take them in the forest, then Britons must yield. They'll shut up one eye and squint on their gun, We're certainly dead boys as soon as that's done ; We can stand no more chance among Yankee boys Than to throw an old cat into Bedlam without claws. Then what shall we do ? Diana don't hear, To our supplications she turns a deaf ear ; We'll complain to our gods of our sorrow' and woe, Our good old friend Jupiter will hear us, I know. We'll complain to Mars, and Saturn also, And likewise mild Venus shall hear of our woe ; And if they'll not regard us, will make our complaint To the lady Mary and the good old saint. You gentlemen all think on't as you will, The Britons have used the Americans il! ; And for that same reason we are brought into stall, We never shall prosper in this war at all. For our gods will not hear us, though we cry and weep. They have gone a long journey or fallen asleep ; They are regardless of our requests. As the British Court is of the American Congress. Thus I think it in vain on our gods for to call. For they are not able to help us at all ; We'll go to brave Gates— that's complete, He'll give us an answer in hopes that is sweet. "with one regiment he could march triumphantly through all the American colonies." M il ;i ! i ; tiBmmt hi i' 82 The Burgoyne Ballads. He'll grant us the privilege for to march out In the honor of war though in the worst route ; And if he'll do so we'll bless his name, And let him be crowned with honor and fame. We are all 'greed to do as you have said, We'll go very humble with hopes on our head, Acknowledge before him we all deserve death, If he saves us we'll praise him whilst we have breath. We sent to his honor, our request he did grant ; His bountiful hands did supply all our wants ; He opened his stores, our wants did supply. Let brave Gates' enemy before him all fly. Ye Heavens, send down your blessings amain On the head of brave Gates, let his foes be slain. Or otherwise bow to that brave general, Let Britons and foreigners before him all fall. For his honour is great and his valour unknown. He scorns in his heart the thoughts of a clown ; He's gallant and brave and generous too. Right worthy gen'ral, I bid you adieu. THE FATE OF JOHN BURGOYNE. When Jack, the king's commander, Was going to his duty. Through all the crowd he smiled and bow'd To every blooming beauty. The city rung with feats he'd done In Portugal and Flanders, And all the town thought he'd be crown'd The first of Alexanders.* * See sketch of General Burgoyne, ante. The Bnrgoyne Ballads. To Hampton Court he first repairs To kiss great George's hand, sirs ; 1 hen to harangue on state affairs Before he left the land, sirs. The Lower House sat mute as mouse 1 o hear his grand oration ; And all the peers, with loudest cheers l^roclaimed him to the nation. Then off he went to Canada, Next to Ticonderoga, And quitting those away he goes btraightway to Saratoga. With great parade his march he made 1 o gain his wished for station, While far and wide his minions hied lo spread his Proclamation. To such as staid he offers made Ol ''pardon on submission • But savage bands should wasie the lands Ul all in opposition." But ah, the cruel fates of war ' This boasted son of Britain, When mounting his triumphal car With sudden fear was smitten. The sons of Freedom gathered round, His hostile bands confounded And when they'd f.ln have turn;d their back They found themselves surrounded ! In vain they fought, in vain they fled 1 heir chief, humane and tender ' 1 o save the rest soon thought it best His forces to surrender. 33 ^ tarn Ji, l^^( 34 The Burgoyne Ballads. Brave St. Clair * when he first retired Knew what the fates portended ; * The troops with which General St. Clair had gar- risoned Ticonderoga, in view of a possible attack by Burgoyne, were ill equipped, badly armed, and amount- ed, including '.^" .'^ hundred militia, to about three thousand n.cn. As General Philips, with the right wing of Burgoyne's army, approached Ticonderoga, the Americans abandoned their outworks, and the British, without hindrance, immediately took possession of and fortified Mount Defiance, a mountain completely over- looking TiconcK i -^gf., and the possibility of which event had been su ,' \ t 3 by Governor Trumbull, but which hint, on acc.uun'c o< Ipck of men, was not acted upon. Ur-lcr th'se circu. :nces St. Clair had no alternative bat to ^v'ac iit'^ \. fort during the night and retreat into Vermont, sct^di' i 'S stores and sick on bateaux up Lake Champlain to Skenesborough. No event during the Revolutionary War, as it has been justly said, produced such consternation through- out the colonies as the evacuation of Ticonderoga — a fortress which, even by Washington himself, had been regarded as a tower of strength, and one, too, before which, as a matter of course, Burgoyne would be stopped on his march southward to Albany. In- deed, nothing could have been more unexpected than this event. " It was," says Dr. Dwight, who lived as a contemporary with the actors in these scenes, " the bursting of a meteor, which, by its awful peal, shook every habitation from Maine to Georgia." That there was a fault somewhere admits of no doubt. But whatever was the cause — whether the officers and their subordinates overrated the strength of the enemy, or what — the excessive disappointment of the The Burgoyne Ballads. And Arnold and heroic Gates* His conduct have defended. '^ w'.T? ^'^^'••ca's brave sons With honor be rewarded. Arid the fate of all her foes I he same as here recorded. ^vard tried by a court-, JrtiaT?or U L of, nf Th' " f"" but was acquitted of all blame T?f ' ^'"'^' however, of this terrible misfZ'.nJh ~"^'-:i"«":e, mitigation by his acquittal '"" '^""''"'^ »" man in his feelino-. Ih c fV"'"^' ^e was a noble successful, as Herdle';''ha'nu''stS 'raid"'f"" ""' """ patriotism or willino-nfit^ o, ^ , '■ '^'°'" *'a"' of ington knew th s ^^hT '""■'''''® h.mself." VVash- dence. He had him bv his'^-r^r^^''""''-^*^' ""'^ ^°»fi- Lolding no commis'sTo fa'n d ston^^^t'"'"'; "'°"?^ pronounced his acouiff»l w ■ '"e court-mart a highest respon iSes Thist' • "'" '"''" ^*''"' '^e his praise ; and fina Iv in , ^M f ^'¥ \8'''=" ^eal in Territory was erec e^i into f'^'" ""= Northwestern doubtless with the concurrencfTvTT' ^'^ C''''^' appointed governor of fh,,^- ^^"shmgton, was held until tlo/ "" '"""'•^' ^'^ich office he No. n: " =''°« ^'^^'^'' of General Gates, see Appendix ^ u _ t !! 86 The Burgoyne Ballads. THE CAPTURE AT SARATOGA* Here followeth the direful fate Of Burgoyne and his army great, Who so proudly did display The terrors of despotic sway. His power and pride and many threats Have been brought low by fort'nate Gates, To bend to the United States. British prisoners by convention, Foreigners by contravention, - _ _ Tories sent across the lake, - - - Burgoyne and his suite in state, . . - Sick and wounded, bruised and pounded, ] Ne'er so much before confounded, j Prisoners of war before convention. Deserters come with kind intention, They lost at Bennington's great battle. Where Stark's glorious arms did rattle. Killed in September and October, Ta'en by brave Brown,f some drunk, some sober. Slain by high-famed Herkerman,;|: On both flanks, on rear and van, Indians, settlers, butchers, drovers,, "^ Enough to crowd large plains all over And those whom grim Death did prevent From fighting against our continent ; And also those who stole away. Lest they down their arms should lay, * From a contemporary magazine, though copied extensively in the newspapers of the day. t Colonel John Brown, of Massachusetts. See note under " The North Campaign." X General Herkimer, of New York. Y 2442 2198 1 100 12 528 400 300 1220 600 413 300 4413 \ 87 14000 The Buvgoyne Ballads. Abhorring that obnoxious day The whole make fourteen thousand men, ) Who may not with us fight again, | This is a pretty just account Of Burgoyne's legions' whole amount Who came across the northern lakes ' 1 o desolate our happy States Their brass cannon we have got all Fifty-six-both great and small ; ' And ten thousand stand of arms lo prevent all future harms • ' Stores and implements complete. Of workmanship exceeding neat • Covered wagons in great plenty. ' And proper harness, no ways scanty Among our prisoners there are Six generals of fame most rare • Six members of their parliament Reluctantly they seem content : Three British lords, and Lord Balcarras'^ Who^me our country free to harass. * Balcarras. Alexander Lind^^TT^rP^^rrTT soldier, born in i7C2- died m t '^ 1.^ ' ^^^^^'^^ tQ^,- it '752, aiea in London. March oTtU ■MM 38 The Burgoyne Ballads. Two baronets of high extraction Were sorely wounded in the action. i :.!,' ■I i ■I BURGOYNE'S ADVANCE AND FALL. (An extract from America Independent,) BY PHILIP FRENEAU. * Led on by lust of lucre and renown, Burgoyne came marching with his thousands down ; manded the advanced corps of the army at Free- man's Farm ; and in the action of October 7th, 1777, on the death of General Eraser, October 8th, 1777, he was made lieutenant-colonel of the Twenty-fourth foot. He became major-general in 1793, commander in Jamaica ; lieutenant-governor of that island in 1 794 ; lieutenant-general in 1798, and general in 1803. His bravery and prominence in both of the battles of Sar- atoga have always received particular mention. * Philip Freneau, poet, born in New York City, January 2d, 1 752 ; died near Freehold, N. J., December 1 8th, 1832. Some of his published poems were written before he left college (Princeton). On a voyage to the West Indies, in 1780, he was captured by an English cruiser, and his experiences as a prisoner are recorded in bitter terms in his " British Prison-Ship." On regaining his liberty, the following year, he wrote frequently, both in prose and verse, for the Free^naus Joiirnal. After the close of the war he became editor of the New York Daily Advertiser. The violence of this paper's attacks on the Federalists aroused Hamilton's anger, who accused him of being The JBurgoyne Ballads. 89 High were his thoughts, and furious his career, Puft'd with self-confidence, and pride severe, Swoln with the idea of his future deeds, On to ruin each advantage leads. Before his hosts his heaviest curses flew. And conquer'd worlds rose hourly to his view : His wrath, like Jove's, could bear with no control. His words bespoke the mischief in his soul ; To fight was not this miscreant's only trade, He shin'd in writing, and his wit display'd. To awe the more with titles of command He told o{ forts he ruVd in Scottish land ; Queen's colonel 2ls he was he did not know That thorns and thistles, mix'd with honors, grow ; In Britain's senate though he held a place. All did not save him from one long disgrace. One stroke of fortune that convinc'd them all That we could conquer, and lieutenants fall. Foe to the rights of man, proud plunderer, say Had conquest crown'd thee on that mighty day When you to Gates, with sorrow, rage and shame Resign'd your conquests, honors, arms, and fame, When at his feet Britannia's wreaths you threw, And the sun sicken'd at a sight so new ; Had you been victor — what a waste of woe ! What souls had vanish'd to where souls do go ! the "tool of Jefferson," which forced the latter to write an explanatory letter to Washington. He afterward was connected with several newspapers. He is the author of many works, both of prose and verse. A volume of his poems, published in Philadelphia in 1 786, abounds in patriotic sentiments and allusions to the various events of the war. Indeed, he has been not unaptly styled " the poet of the Revolution." I 40 The Burgoyne Ballads. ■ I' 1 f. I I I I): ' ! What dire distress had mark'd your fatal way, What deaths on deaths disgrace that dismal day ! Can laurels flourish in a soil of blood, Or on those laurels can fair honors bud ? Curs'd be that wretch who murder makes his trade, Curs'd be all arms that e'er ambition made! What murdering tory now relieves your grief Oi plans new conquests for his favorite chief; Designs still dark employ that ruffian race, Beasts of your choosing, and our own disgrace. So vile a crew the world ne'er saw before. And grant, ye pitying heavens, it may no more. If ghosts from hell infest our poison'd air. Those ghosts have enter'd these base bodies here. Murder and blood is still their dear delight — Scream round their roots, ye ravens of the night ! Whene'er they wed, may demons, and despair, And grief, and woe, and blackest night be there ; Fiends leagu'd from hell, the nuptial lamp display. Swift to perdition light them on their way. Round the wide world their devilish squadrons chase, To find no realm that grants one resting place. Far to the north, on Scotland's utmost end, An isle there lies, the haunt of every fiend, There screeching owls, and screaming vultures rest, And not a tree adorns its barren breast ! No shepherds there attend their bleating flocks, But wither'd witches rove among the rocks : Shrouded in ice, the blasted mountains show Their cloven heads, to fright the seas below ; The lamp of heaven in his diurnal race Here scarcely deigns to unveil his radiant face; Or if one day he circling treads the sky He views this island with an angry eye; Or ambient fogs their broad, moist wings expand, Damp his bright ray, and cloud the infernal land ; The Burgoyne Ballads. 41 The blackeninp^ wind incessant storms prolong, Dull as tiieir night, and dreary as my song ; When stormy winds with rain refuse to blow, Then from the dark sky drives the unpitying snow ; When drifting snow from iron clouds forbear, Then down the hailstones rattle through the air. No peace, no rest, the elements bestow, But seas forever rage, and storms forever blow. Here, miscreants, here with loyal hearts retire. Here pitch your tents, and kindle here your fire ; Here desert Nature will her stings display, And fiercest hunger on your vitals prey. And with themselves let jfohn Bu}\i^oyne retire To reign the monarch, whom your hearts admire. ST. CLAIR'S RETREAT, A:,D BURGOYNE'S DEFEAT. 7* By Rev. Wheeler Case St. Clair is stationed i our Northern fort, T' oppose Burgoyne, sent from the British coast. * Rev. Wheeler Case was born at Southold, Long Island, in 1732. He died in 1788, at Pleasant Valley, Dutchess County, N. Y., where his tombstone is yet ( 1 893) still to be seen. The poems were first published anonymously in i77S,and have since been reproduced by Dodd in 1852. Rev. Mr. Case was the pastor for many years of the Presbyterian Church of Pleasant Valley, N. Y. In his preface to his pamphlet he states that the poems were first composed for his own amuse- ment, without any idea of printing them ; but after- ward, thinking they might contribute a little toward 42 The Burgoyne Ballads. \ i '■■ 1 ■' . ■ : .1 I! I 11 The fortress all complete in every part, Well fortified by nature and by art ; How firm the walls! the lines completely mann'd, Huge cannon planted round, all parts well scann'd. The gen'ral now his soldiers all address'd, And like a hero thus himself express'd: "Let martial courage in your bosoms glow. Nor fear to face a proud inv^ading foe; You know our cause is just; we need not fear, The C^rtf of armies will for us appear. Fair Liberty commands; here make the stand, I/cre we will die, or save our injur'd land. You all detest the shameful name of s/ave ; Then play the man, and rank among the brave. My orders you will all as one obey, Our foes, all panic-struck, will sneak away. Then we But who — what troops are these just here in sight. All clad in arms complete, prepar'd to fight .^ 1,/ promoting the noble cause of liberty, he consented to their publication. "If the friends of liberty," he adds in his preface, "should be of the same mind with him, he hopes they will be good enough to excuse practical errors, as he had never made the art of poetry his study. As for others, he is not concerned about them, being persuaded the time is drawing nigh when they will be fully convinced that liberty is better than slavery, and independence is much better than being dependent upon a prince who chooses that they should live no longer than during his pleasure, or submit to abject slavery." I am indebted for the above facts to his great-grandson, Walter C. Anthony, of New- burgh, N. Y. TJie Burgoyne Ballads. #8 They are Great Britain's troops — a rising storm — They all appear of a gigantic form ! These sons of Anak spread all o'er the land, Before this mighty host we cannot stand. Should we foolhardy with them now engage, We fall at once sure victims to their rage ; With sword unsheath'd they're all advancing nigh. Let ev'ry man prepare himself to fly. I now command you all with speed to run, Leave all your baggage, and not fire a gun." The soldiers with reluctance now obey. They all retreat, and St. Clair leads the way. Whether with panic struck he to^W the flight. Or to ensnare Burgoyne in dismal plight, The muse must leave till she has further light. Perhaps by impulse he foreknew the fates, And fled to save the whole United States. W^hether fear or impulse govern'd in his breast. Kind Providence o'erruled it for the best."* BurgoynCy elated, now pursues the chase. And threatens vengeance to the rebel race ; * Here the author, writing at the time that the evacuation of Ticonderoga was fresh in the public mind, and with every patriot smarting under what was then considered a needless surrender of that fort, does St. Clair great injustice. St. Clair could not have done otherwise, and if Colonel Trumbull's advice had been followed in regard to fortifying Sugar-Loaf Hill (see Stone's " Burgoyne's Campaign"), the fort need not have been given up. St. Clair, however, did as a true patriot what was the best, and thus saved his army.which eventually captured all of Burgoyne's army. The sub- sequent court-martial of St. Clair, undertaken at the demand of public opinion, fully vindicated his conduct. M 5 , i'.' '■■■ jPi 1 ■ '\il 44 The Burgoyne Ballads. He boasts aloud, his threat'nings round he hurl'd, As tho' assur'd of conquering all the world. With hellish pride he triumphs o'er the north, Enumerates his titles and his worth, And sends his thund'ring proclamation forth* Persuasive arguments at first he us'd, Then blood and slaughter, if they him refus'd. He dipp'd his pen in oil to soothe and please. Then his address began in words like these : " Why will you thus desert my master's cause, And trample underfoot his righteous laws ? Cease to rebel, repent, return and live, I've sealed pardons in my hand to give. Remain upon your farms, there safely stay. With all your horses, cattle, and your hay ; Nor hide your oats, your barley, or your wheat, Then you from me shall safe protection meet ; You need not fear, no one shall you annoy. Come and submit, I'll find you full employ ; I'll bore your ear unto my master's door, 'Tis all he has in view, he wants no more. Submit your necks to his most easy yoke, So that you may avert the dreadful stroke. As mediator, I do you entreat With all submission fall at Georges feet. My royal master's pleasure and your good Is my design, could it be understood. Oh ! for the eloquence of a Demosthenes, Could I your mind impress, or could I please, * The writer here refers to the bombastic proclama- tion of Burgoyne, sent out from his camp at the river Bouquet, June 23d, 1777. To show the burlesque more understandingly, the proclamation, as previously stated, is given under Appendix No. III. The Burgoyne Ballads. 46 Could I but melt your stubborn temper down To due submission to the British crown. When i have done my work I am content With what I'm to receive from Government. But if my royal master you despise, And 'gainst the clearest light you shut your eyes, If you are still determined to rebel And counteract his laws, all plann'd so well, Then I'm in duty bound to let you know What I have full authority to do : I come commissioned from great Georges throne, To vindicate his honor and my own. A great and potent army I command. With floods of rebel blood to drench the land ; Thousands oi Indians I've supplied with knives To scalp your dearest children and your wives. If I but nod the savage army flies, And naught is heard but shrieks and female cries. Believe my word, this sure will be your fate,* You soon must feel the vengeance of the State. Let not your Hezekiahs you deceive. None of your pulpit orators believe. In whom do you confide ? Come tell, That ye against my master dare rebel. : Is it on Gallic bands.f or is it Spain ? They'll disappoint your trust, your hope is vain. *This. again, is an unjust imputation against Burgoyne, who, notwithstanding the threats in his proclamation, did all he could to restrain Indian atrocities. Indeed, it was to this fact, that before the battles of Saratoga nearly all his savage allies deserted him. f Referring to rumors, even then prevalent, that 46 The Burgoyne Ballads. J V i t I fit « !"!■ i I ) \ 1 Were they with you combined, they'd with you fall, Just like a tottering fence or bowing wall. What Britam did last war you know full well, Her banners wav'd, united powers fell. What armies ever could her force withstand ? Hath she not conquered both the sea and land ? What madness then to oppose a power so great, While weak and feeble in your infant state !" Reply : Britain, 'tis true, her conquests far hath spread, Nations to her have bow'd and tribute paid, Her vict'ries she hath spread o'er sea and land, Before her potent armies none could stand. Horror and darkness now are spread around, Our woes increase, and no deliverer's found. Great desolation in the north is made, Our strongest fort resigned, St. Clair is fled ; The poor distressed inhabitants now fly. And on the Providence of GOD rely. The baser sort are flocking to Burgoyne, Others now tremble, lest they must resign. Why these despairing tho'ts } W^hy all this fear .? Who knows but GOD will soon for us appear? The night's the darkest, best observers say, E'en just before the dawning of the day ; Who knows but these our groans and female cries, Which sound thro' all the woods, may reach the skies .'^ Our cause is just, we dare appeal to heaven ; We fight for what our gracious GOD has given. You threaten vengeance with your dreadful rod. As if you fill'd the seat and throne of GOD. But hark ! the sov'reign speaks, Vengeance is mine, And now I will repay it on Burgoyne. France would soon take part with the colonies in their struggle with the Mother country. ^ The Burgoyne Ballads. lhnu'?T'' '"''''"'' ^^'^^ '^^^^ denounced of late ^nall lall upon your own devoted pate ^^^rgoyne is rushing on in quest of blood And Jndians shout for victory thro' the wood He solemnly declares, unless we yield Horror and death await us in the field He sends his bloody flag from house to house • The mountains travail, and bring forth a mouse BehoM'^"' ^'^ '^''''''''' ^"^" ^° ^hese Stages. Behold ! here comes the brave heroic GATES 1 he gloom dispell'd, the light doth now appear And shmes thro' all the Northern Hemisphere • Our troops collect and marshal in array Complete in arms, their banners they displav Burgoy^:, now views them all in arms complete S ruck with a panic, orders a retreat. ^ ' 1 he soldiers trembling, his commands obey, And he, the most intrepid, leads the way. Our brave commander then pursues with speed Soon overtakes, and numbers lie and bleed • ' Our va, ant troops enclose Burgoyne around. And take the best advantage of the ground. Ihe Br^/is/i hero that appear'd so piompt Is now enclosd byVaH/cces in a swamp. 1 he great Burgoj'ne is now overwhelm'd with grief Nor has he any hope to obtain relief. '' ' 1 he rebel army he with scorn defied Have him encompass'd round on ev'ry side. Alas ! how great his grief, how 'cute /i/s pain ' How great is his reproach, how great the stain ' Surprising strange! how singular his case ! ' By rebels close confined in such a place. One thing especially that makes him mourn, 47 ij -. .v.iuj mat siiui Are lond of having room enoujrh to turn. I 48 The Burgoyne Ballads. What seiz'd his soul with horror and surprise, He expects now soon to fall a sacrifice — A sacrifice to Liberty's brave sons. For blood of innocence and dying groans His sorrows rise ; an overwhelming flood, Conscience accus'd, and justice cried for blood. Whole rivers of such blood could ne'er atone For all the horrid murders he had done. Now, thunderstruck, with these ill-boding fates, Resigns himself and army up to Gates. THE FALL OF BURGOYNE. By Rev. Wheeler Case. Is this Burgoyne, Burgoyne the great, Who fill'd our land with woe, And threaten'd vengeance from the State, Is he now fell so low? Is't he that made the earth to tremble, That was so great a curse. That doth great Babel's king resemble, Is he now weak like us ? To Indians he gives stretch no more, Nor them supplies with knives To stain our land with crimson gore, With them to scalp our wives. His threat'ning proclamation's stopped, He's now o'erspread with gloom, The wings with which he flew arc cropp'd, He has no elboiv room. I I The Bnrgoyne Ballads. His titles he proclaims no more, ^n I II u"^- ^'""^" ^^^^^ to roar And all hisjoys are fled. Where is his great and mighty host rhat huge ^,V«;,//, race" ^ ' The sons of W;.«A Britain's boast? Theyrepris'ners in disgrace Pris'ners to rebels, VanJ^ecs too, O mortifymg stroke ! They caught B^^rgoyne with all his crew Brilons now wear the yoke. ' ^H^^N^^i'''--"''^'^' ^h^t man of mi^rht Hath laid a snare for Hozac • ^ ' ""^ '""^"'^iF^— -« OK (Is. 14:32.) '^'^ Rev. Wheeler C.isE. They are not »„, but a„,ci. ^^^Z^^^ ' 49 50 The Burgoyne Ballads. ; ■ We'll first survey the dark side of the cloud, Where scenes of woe in dark succession crowd ; The cruel savag^e tribes in union join, And with the British army all combine ; They soon are in possession of Fort " Ti ; " Our troops retreat, and with the country fly. An heart of stone must bleed to hear the cries, While numbers fall a bloody sacrifice To Britain s cruel sons and savage rage. As naught but blood their fury would assuage, A dark and dismal gloom around us spread. And joy and gladness from our souls were fled ; We thought our country lost, our freedom gone, And these United States were all undone. The great Burgoyne's most formidable host Now march along, and as they march they boast. They boldly rush along, they rage and roar. Like swelling waves that dash against the shore. Now is the time for Zioii s God t' appear. His people's groans and cries have reached his ear. The Lord for them hath laid a secret snare ; They'll not escape, but be entangl'd there. Great Gen'ral Gates appears, inspir'd from heaven. Wisdom and fortitude to him are given. Our soldiers all collect from East to West, With martial ardor glowing in their breast ; They stop the great Burgoyne in his career. Him they surround, his feet are in the snare; With forc'd submission now he bows to Gates, He and his hosts made pris'ners to these States. ;; ;■ ' .( to Washington and the battles of Trenton and Prince- ton. As this is not germane to the object of this work, it is here omitted. The Burgoyne Ballads. 51 Thick clouds of darkness that our heads hung o'er Have vanish'd suddenly, and seen no more ; The rays of light break forth, how clear the skies. Our gloom is scatter'd, and our hopes arise. May love and gratitude inspire our breast, Praise God for these, and trust him for the rest. These gracious smiles are to prepare the way For greater things, for a more glorious day. This horrid, bloody scene erelong will end, And richer blessings from on high descend. What's been a snare to us, what's prov'd our fate. We've been too long corrupted with the great. The British king and his most vicious court Practise all kinds of vice, and them support. Most nat'rally these painted vices flow From higher ranks to those that are below ;* How rapidly they've flown down from the great, In silver streams, and poison'd every State. Jehovah reigns above, and rules below, He dries our tears, and they shall cease to flow ; And blessings pour on those where virtue reigns. The yoke of tyrants broke, and all their chains ; Vice, put to flight, hides its malignant head, And plotting foes no more in corners hid ; Peace, like a river, flows thro' all the land, No tyrant moves his tongue or lifts his hand ; Our liberty extends both far and wide, Our borders lengthen out on every side ; States in successive growing numbers rise, The greatest empire this below the skies. * Those vices to which the writer alludes have been most admirably brought out by Mr. J. C. Markham in his alto rilievos which adorn the Saratoga Monu- ment. 52 The Burgoyne Ballads. ' ' f r JIM m w i }:\ I In gloomy deserts, our most distant land, Large cities shall be built and churches stand ; There Zion's sons, commission'd from above. Shall spread the news of their Redeemer's love. Where wolves now range, and other beasts of prey; Where Indian tribes more savage are than they ; Where now the war-whoop sounds they bow prostrate, Shall worship at the King of Zion's gate ; Where stand the oak, the beech and the tall pine. There shall be corn-fields and the fruitful vine ; Where marshes abound and the wild flag grows, There shall be the lily and the blushing rose; The most delicious fruits shall ripen there. The peach, the plum, the apple and the pear. Trade unconfined extensively shall grow, And riches here from every nation flow. Our naval force how great ! our fleets abound, Our flocks and herds spread o'er the land around : Here every sort of fruit springs up and grows, And all the land with milk and honey fiows. THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THE LAMENTA- TIONS OF GENERAL BURGOYNE. (Written in 1778.) By Rev. Wheeler Case.* Good heavens! how deep I'm plung'd in woe ! None knows what I now undergo. B^ntain assum'd a sovereign power, To crush her sons while in their flower. * See previous poem for sketch of Rev. Mr. Case's life. Th^ Burgoyne Ballads. One now was wanting bold and brave T enforce her laws, the sons to enslave To get a name, to gain applause, I readily espous'd her cause. I undertook amidst the throng To head her army, right or wrong. ^:r^ifn I left, and cross'd the seas H,s Majesty and North to please I landed on Canadians shore, f m. km'","^ ^'^^' ^ ^'^^^ P'-^ss'd o'er- A T'""^ ^ ,^^°"^' "^y b'^""ek spread ' And struck the rebels all with dread 1 soon was master of Fort "Ti •"* ' Like sheep they all before me fly • My Indians shout, my cannon roar The and ,s stained with crimson gore. All things are pleasing, all things bricrht The rebel army dare not fight " I he sun in its meridian shSne'. I thought the day was now my own. Y^pictm I dispatch'd a post, And joy was spread thro' all their coast But oh, the change, the sudden chan 'e »' Affairs novv took a turn most stranJ? ' The hero, ^^/.,, appears insight, " H s tro ,11 ,,otj^.j ^^j^,^ armor bright • ^N\l '"/?' ?r '^^''" ^^""^^-^ spread,'" ' \^ith -Death or Victory- on their lead.f 68 poem. -^ ^^ ^^^ 'o the original Ml I i\ 54 27ie Burgoyne Ballads. A sudden panic seiz'd my breast ; Now, to retreat I thought was best. I gave the word and led the way, My orders all as one obey. In this precipitate retreat, Our whole dependence was our feet. Like Tories, they have thus deceiv'd, Oh ! that we'd never them believ'd. While running thro' a swampy ground, The rebel army us surround ; horrid place ! O dreadful gloom ! 1 mourn for want of elbow room. My tawny soldiers, from me fled, Have now return'd to scalp my head. I hear them whoop, I hear them yell, I'm at the very gates of hell. O horror this ! unhappy wretch ! They've took an unexpected stretch ; I'm here confin'd, and naught to eat. They've robb'd me of my bread and meat. Water, I thought, was always free, But that is now denied to me. that my royal master knew How I am treated by this crew ! He, lion-like, of whelps bereav'd, Would see us instantly reliev'd — No, the attempt woulr' all be vain. They fight like dev"'j, not like men. But who would ever have believ'd That I could thus have been deceiv'd? 1 thought five thousand men, or less, Thro' all these States might safely pass, March boldly on one steady course, The States all trembling at our force.* * In allusion to the remark of General Burgoyne to The Burgoyne Ballada. 65 My error now I see too late, Here I'm confin'd within this State* Yes, in this little spot of ground, Enclos'd by Yankees all around. With this five thousand — yes with ten, And these Greai Britain s chosen men. In Europe let it ne'er be known, Nor publish it in Askelon, Lest the uncircumcised rejoice, And distant nations join their voice.f What will my friends in Britain say ? I wrote them I had gained the day, I made them both rejoice and sing,;]; But now they'll strike a mournful string. Three things now strike me with surprise : First, I believ'd the Tories' lies ; What also brought me to this plight, I thought the Yankees would not fight.§ George IV., when contemplating his expedition — viz., that " with five thousand men he could easily march through the entire American colonies." * Rhode Island, where Burgoyne was kept until his exchange. f Burgoyne, as mentioned in the preliminary sketch of that general, before coming to America had served with great distinction in Europe — a fact which caused him to be selected to command this expedition. No wonder, then, that he should have felt terribly morti- fied at the unlucky result of his campaign in America. % Burgoyne's despatches to England previous to his surrender had been of the most encouraging descrip- tion. § Probably in allusion to the fact that Governor Skene had told Burgoyne, before the latter sent out his 66 TJie Burgoynf. Ballads. I I Thirdly, I'm most asham'd to say, I lied so fast I missed my way. How strange that I should take this route, When I'm so swamp'd and hemm'd about, The de'il himself could ne'er get out. Alas! I'm overborne with grief! There's none appears for my relief! Where are my titles and my fame ? I've lost my honor and my name. At Bcmiington, Stark gave the wound Which, like a gangrene, spread around O'er Saratoga's cursed ground. Heart-sickness seiz'd the camp so fast, All courage fail'd ; and there at last Arnold and Lincoln gave the blow That jiroved our final overthrow. ^;';/^>/r/ with wings our I'nes Hew o'er. The like I never saw b'^forc ; expedition to Bennington, that the inhabitants would make no resistance — in fact, said Skene, "all you have to do is to scatter plunder on your march, and then the rebels will be so busily engaged in collecting it, that you need have no fear of any attack." Skene, in fact, in more senses than one, was Burgoync's evil genius; for it was through his advice that Burgoync advanced by land in pursuit of Schuyler, instead of tak- ing Lake (icorge, by which means so much time was lost that Schuvler had ample time to gather his forces to make his successful stand at Saratoga. Ramsey, in his " History of the American Revolution," states that Skene gave this advice, so that, at the expense of Great Britain, he could have a road cut through from Skenesborough (Whitehall, N. Y.) to benefit himself. The Burgoyne Ballads. He threaten'd death to every one That dar'd to fire another gun. The Hessiafis, thunderstruck, turn pale * The stupid asses' hearts now fail ; Thus seiz'd with trembling and dismay, Their new commander they obey ; The panic spread from breast to breast, And^I was struck among the rest. Language now fails — it can't express Th' amazing horror and distress. Cannon-like claps of thunder roar. Their balls like hail upon us pour ; Flashes of fire around us blaze : The sun now lost his feebler rays : Volumes of smoke o'ercloud the skies, And scenes of blood salute our eyes. The gloom of death around us waits, And all the vengeance of the States. I must submit or die — but how To these despised Yankee's bow ? I wish I never had been born. II I submit, I'm laugh'd to scorn ; 57 * Br7insxvickcrs, not Hessians^ who were chiefly in the Southern Department. The Iirunswickers, at the second battle of Saratoga, manned the Brunswick re- doubt captured by Arnold in his impetuous charge at the close of the battle. Through the j)atriotic elTortsof Mrs. E. n. Walworth, that most energetic trustee of the Saratoga Monument Association, (ieneral de Pey- ster has placed a beautiful tablet marking the site of Arnold's charge. Hon. James M. Marvin, George M. Pullman and others b.ave also erected tablets on dilTerent points of the battle-ground. (i w ';i !.: V 58 The Burgoyne Ballads. If I refuse, I know my doom — Among the living I've no room. The blood of innocence I've shed — This fills my guilty soul with dread. My brethren's blood against me cries, And calls for vengeance from the skies. Cain's crime was great, but not so bad. The blood of only one he shed ; But I have laid a country waste, And human nature have disgrac'd ; I've slain each sex of ev'ry age. And slaughter'd victims to my rage.* One demon only tempted Cain, Legion, and more within me reign. Horror and death do me surprise, A shower of lead around me flies. In Saul, when guilt and fear arise, Away to Endor straight he goes ; He prays the witch, tho' most unjust, To raise up Samucl\ from the dust. That he might tell what would be best For him to do while thus distress' d. But I'm confined, and cannot go To Endor, there to tell my woe ; I'm here pent up to grieve and mourn, I scarce have room enough to turn. *As stated rtiw/i', this imputation on Burgoyne is most unjust. Still, allowance must be made for the bitter partisan feehng of the day. f The fact of the writer emphasizing Samuel wovX^X seem to show he had some one particularly in his mind — an allusion which, at the time this was written, was probably understood, but which is lost to us readers of the present day. ! The Burgoyne Ballads. O that that prophet would arise, My priests have told me naught but lies. What shall I say? — what shall I do? " My council, now I turn to you." A council now of war is held ; They all as one agree to yield ; Their colors strike, to Gates they bow, Lay down their arms, and otf they go.* 50 As they begin to march, as soon The conquerors all agree To sound the "Yankee Doodle "tune Upon the highest key.f * This, again, is in allusion to the fact that Burgoyne, against the advice of Riedesel and all the officers whom he had summoned into council, was at first deter- mined not to surrender, but to try and reach Fort Ed- ward, and thence, via Lakes George and Champlain, to Canada. And it was only after the most strenuous ex- ertions on the part of his generals that he finally yielded. Had he not done so, his entire army would have been compelled to surrender most ignominiously, and without any conditions whatever. f " The origin of this air," says Lossing, " is involved in obscurity. It seems to be older than the United States. It is also said to be the tune of an old Eng- lish nursery song called ' Lucy Locket,' which was current in the time of Charles II. In New England Colonial times it was known as ' Lydia Fisher's Jig.' A song composed in derision of Cromwell began with '"Yankee Doodle came in town, Riding on a pony. With a feather in his hat, Upon a macaroni.' " *-*^ — 60 The Burgoyns BallaJa. Musicians all of various kinds With utmost skill now play, To raise the pris'ners' drooping minds, And demons drive away. Such charms of music ne'er before Were heard within our land, But all their skill they now fjive o'er For want of David's hand.* A DIALOGUE BETWEEN COLONEL PAINE AND MISS CLORINDA FAIRCHILD, WHEN TAKING LEAVE OF HER TO GO ON THE NORTHERN EXPEDITION AGAINST BURGOVNE. CoL Paine. — I'm come to let my dear Clorinda know My bleeding country calls, and I must go. * A surgeon who was with Sir VV^illiam Johnson in 1 755, at Lake George, composed a song to the air which he called *' Yankee," as a take-off of the uncouth appear- ance of the Provincial troops. Contrary, however, to his design, it was considered good martial music, and became very popular. While the British were in Boston some poet wrote a piece in derision of the New England troops, which Mr. Lossing gives in full in his "Cyclopa:dia of United States History" (Harper «Sl Bros.). This is the original " Yankee Doodle" song. "The tune," says Lossing, " is so associated with the patriotic deeds of Americans, that it always inspires a love of country in the heart of any good citizen." It is now accepted as our national air, and is in positive contrast in spirit to the stately " G'^d Save the King" of Old England. ( TJie Burgoyne Ballads. 61 Distrcss'd it calls aloud, To arms ! to arms ! The trumpet sounds, I now must leave your charms. I've drawn my sword, I'll go forth with the brave, And die a freeman, ere I live a slave. Clo. — Good Heavens ! can this be true — can it be so ? You pierce my heart, I'm overwhelmed with woe. Is this your love — is this the kind return, To win my heart, and leave me thus to mourn ? Oh, should you fall a victim there to death, I can't survive, I must resign my breath ! Paine. — My dear Clorain, forbear to weep — forbear ! I trust my life to God's paternal care; He will protect the men whose cause is just And in the God of armies put their trust. We'll boldly go and smite those rebels dead Who dare oppose our Continental Head ; Then I'll return and my Clorinda wed. Clo. — If naught your mind will change, then take the field, Go play the man, and Heaven be your shield. Go forth and act the hero, crush our foes, Who slav'ry love and liberty oppose. May Liberty's brave sons the triumph spread, Put all their foes to flight, or view them dead. Should Heaven, propitious, our good cause maintain, And our brave troops with you victorious reign. Then cheerfully with them we'll victory sing, And join with them in praise of Zion's King. VVHth what transporting joy I'd then receive That dearest man with whom I wish to live. But oh ! the cruel fate of war — Paine. — My dear Cloraiti, forbear ; we now must part. Adieu, my love — but oh ! my bleeding heart. I 62 The Btirgoyne Ballads. i 'I ! 1 This said, the tears flow'd from her eyes, Her cheeks all pale spread o'er ; Each other they emhrace with sighs, 'Till they could weep no more. # * » * * C/o, — Farewell, my dear, farewell, dear Colonel Paine Heaven be your guard, while foes around are slain, Return you safe, where love and freedom reign. Paine. — Farewell, my dear Clorain, my only fair. May angels keep you safe from ev'ry snare, Adieu, my dear, I leave you in their care. A SHORT REVIEW OF BURGOYNE'S EXPEDITION. BY ROBERT DINSMORE.* Mv faithful friend and uncle, kind, I would bring some things to your mind, * Robert Dinsmore, poet, born in Windham, N. H., October 7th, 1757; died there March i6th, 1836. He was of Scotch-Irish descent. At the age of eigh- teen he enlisted in the Revolutionary Army, and served at the battle of Saratoga. He became a farmer at Windham, was a zealous Presbyterian, and used to make verses on topics arising from personal incidents. He called himself the " Rustic Bard," and published, in 1828, a volume entitled " Incidental Poems." In his " Old Portraits and Modern Sketches" Whittier says : " He lived to a good old age, a home-loving, unpre- tending farmer, cultivating his acres with his own horny hands, and cheering the long rainy days and winter evenings with homely rhyme. He wrote some- times to amuse his neighbors, often to soothe their sor- The Burgoyne Ballads. Which still impress'd on mine I find, By recollection ; That seems my heart with yours to bind In strong affection. From my first dawn of life you've known me ; When Nature on the world had thrown me, You did a first-born nephew own me, Or younger brother ; And friendship ever since have shown me, Kind like my mother. Childhood and youth, manhood and age. You've been my friend in every stage ; Sometimes in sport we would engage. Our nerves to try ; Sometimes t' explore the music page, The genius ply. When British laws would us enthrall, Our country for defence did call ; Then martial fire inspir'd us all, To arms we Hew ; And as a soldier, stand or fall, I went with you ! O'er western hills we travell'd far, Pass'd Saratoga, the site of war, 63 row under domestic calamity, or to give expression to his own." The poem here given was written to Deacon Isaac Cochran, of Antrim, N. H., his mother's brother, who was a lieutenant at the taking of General Burgoyne, October 17th, 1777. 64 The Burgoyne Ballads. V- It J * Where Burgoyne roU'd his feudal car Down Hudson's strand : And Gates, our glorious western* star, Held high command. From the green ridgef we glanced our eyes, Where village flames illum'd the skies. Destruction there was no surprise, On Hudson's shore! Though smoke in burning pillars rise, And cannons roar ! But to Fort Edward we were sent. Through icy Bartenskilnij; we went. And on that plain we pitch'd our te'it, 'Gainst rain and snow ; Our orders there, was \sic\ to prevent The flying foe. By counter orders, back we came, And cross'd the Hudson's rapid stream, At Schuyler's Mills,§ of no small fame, Thence took our post, Near Burgoyne's line, with fix6d aim To take his host! * Gates's home was then in Pennsylvania, at that time considered West. f Now, the road leading from the village of Quaker Springs to Schuylersville, N. V. This road was first cut through by Burgoyne to make a path for General Fraser, who led the right wing in its advance south. JThe Battenkill, which, rising in Vermont, empties into the Hudson, between Fort Miller and Schuylers- ville. § The present village of Schuylersville, N. Y. I The Burgoyne Ballads. 65 With courage bold, we took the field, Our foes no more their swords could wield, God was our strength, and He our shield, A present aid. Proud Burgoyne's army there did yield. All captive made ! Great Britain's honor there was stain'd, We sang a glorious victory gain'd ! From hence our States a rank obtain'd, 'Mongst nations great ; Our future glory was ordain'd, As sure as fate ! To Windham, back with joy we turn'd, Where parents dear our absence mourn'd ; And our fair friends in rapture burn'd To see our faces ! Sweet pearly drops their cheeks adorn'd In our embraces ! When all our vanquish'd foes were fled. Love, peace and harmony were shed. Like oil descending on the head, Or milk or wine ; Williams,* the man of God, us fed With food divine. O ! let not you and I [sic\ forget How often we've together met, Like Heman and Jeduthon,f set In God's own house ; And solemnly his table at Renew'd our vows ! * Rev. Simon Williams. fThe two principal leaders of the singing in the congregation at Windham. ^BS T-^iX^f^STK:!^ i i !l ; \ 'Ml i S i r lii 1 66 TA^ Burgoyhe Ballads. And when the sac-ed scene was past, We sang Doxology at last, To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, United Three ! One God, our souls redeemed last, So let it be. While Reason in her seat remains, And blood runs streaming in my veins. Or Memory her power retains, I shall review, And think upon the various scenes I've past with you. FOUR BURGOYNE EPIGRAMS. I* In seventeen hundred and seventy-seven. General Burgoync set out for Heaven ; But, as the Yankees would rebel. He missed his route and went to Hell. II. Burgoyne, alas ! unknowing future fates. Could force his way through woods^ but not through GATES.t *My friend, Dr. James D. Butler, formerly of "\^er- mont, but now (1893) of Madison, Wis., sends me the above, which, he writes, was current in Vermont for a long time after the Revolution. f The author of the above epigram, which was pub- lished in 1777, shortly after the battles of Saratoga, was David Edwards. He was born in the city of New York in the spring of 1747, of English parents. His The Burgoyne BaUads. 67 III. A CABINET REPARTEE* To North the Lean said George the Wise, Here's with o/te Arnold much ado ; father, John Edwards, was a well-known character in town, where he followed the profession of a " tea-water man." At the early age of twelve years, David was apprenticed to Garret Noel, at the Meal Market Noel was the principal bookseller in the city, and he afterward transferred young Edwards to Hugh Gaine, the publisher of the New Vork JMerairy, who taught him the printing business. David became a member of a secret association called the " Liberty Boys," of whom Isaac Lean was at the head, and was the author of most of the political squibs circulated by them in the city. He was an active participator in the stamp and tea-act troubles, and was wounded on January i8th, 1770, in the fray which occurred between the citizens and soldiers on Golden Hill (John Street, between Gold and Cliff streets), since known as the " Battle of Golden Hill," and which action, instead of that at Lexington, caused the first bloodshed in the war of the American Revolution. He remained in the city until its occupation by the British, in 1776, when he went with his employer to Newark, and remained there a week, during which time Gaine made his terms with Howe, and returned to New Vork and became a rank Tory. David, however, refused to ac- company him, and, going to Trenton, was at once em- ployed by Isaac Collins, the printer of the New Jersey Gazette, in whose employ he continued until the close of the war. In 1784 he returned to New Vork and i .1 11 i '\ « I 68 The Bimjoyne Ballads. The drowsy Premier, starting, cries, 'Tis well, my liege, there are not ^ivo ! IV. OUR COMMANDERS.f Gage nothing did, and went to pot ; Howe lost one town, another got ; Guy % nothing lost, and nothing won ; Dunmore was homewards forced to run ; Clinton was beat, and got a garter. And bouncing Burgoyne catch'd a Tartar; Thus all we gain for millions spent Is to be laugh'd at, and repent. worked for Samuel London until his death, which occur- red in 1 794. The greater part of the poetical eflfusions which appeared in CoUins's paper were attributed to Edwards. For a portion of the above sketch I am in- debted to Albert J. Disney, in the Historical Maga- zine, Vol. III., page 350. Another version of the authorship of the verses — doubtless without foundation — is that it was composed by a student at the Westminster School, who wrote it in Latin as an epigrammatic couplet upon the subject " Saratoga" — that being the word selected for the day's exercises. So at least says the "Chaplet of Comus." * Epigram from the New York Ptiblic Advertiser of December 5th, 1777. Walpole, in his "Last Journals," II., page 159, says that it was written by Arnold him- self, as a parody of one of Burgoyne's manifestoes. f This epigram is from the London Evening Post. X Sir Guy Carleton, by far the ablest general and most humane officer that England ever sent out to the colonies. s ■ . \ .1 \ .1 i The Burgoyne Bidlads. m THE HALCYON DAYS OF OLD ENGLAND ; OR, WISDOM OF ADMINISTRATION DEMON- STRATED/^ {To the tune of *' Ye Maihy of Mortals .") Give ear to my song, I'll now tell you a story, This is the bright era of Old England's glory ; And though some may think us in pitiful pliglit, I'll swear they're mistaken, for matters go right I Sing tantarara, wise all, wise all. Sing tantarara, wise all. Let us laugh at the cavils of weak silly elves ! Our statesmen are wise men ! — they say so them- selves ! A.nd though little mortals may hear it with wonder, 'Tis consummate wisdom that causes each blunder ! Sing tantarara, etc. * On December 2d, 1777, an express arrived in Lon- don from Carlcton saying that he had learned by deserters and believed that the Provincials had taken Burgoyne and his whole army jirisoners. On the 15th this unwelcome news was confirmed by Captain Craig, as Walpole writes, "after great slaughter and desertion of the Germans." This charge against Burgoyne's German allies is in the highest degree unjust, since, had it not been for them, it is exceedingly doubtful if Burgoyne would have had any army to surrender. The Brunswickers, under the brave Riedesel, prevented the utter rout of Burgoyne on September 19th, and saved his army from annihilation on October 7th. At the end of December Walpole wrote and publish- ed the above ballad. Walpole's " Last Journals," Vol. II., page 187. I to The Burgoyne Ballads, \'\ If ! They now are conducting a glorious war! (It began about tea, about leathers, and tar !) With spirit they pushed what they piafi:, d with sense ! Forty millions they've spent for a tax of three pence ! Sing tantarara, etc. The debts of the nation do grieve them so sore. To lighten our burden — they load us the more ! They aim at the American cash, my dear honey ! Vet beggar this kingdom and send them the money. Sing tanturara, etc. What honors we're gaining by taking their forts, Destroying lialeaux and blocking up ports ; Hurgoyne would have worked them--l)ut for a mishap, By Gates anil one Arnold he's caught in a traj) ! Sing tantarara, etc. But Howe \vas more cautious and prudent by far, lie sailed with his tlect up the great Delaware ; All summer he struggled and strove to undo them. But the plague of it was that he could not get to them. Sing tantarara, etc. Oh, think us not cruel because our allies Are savagelv scalping men, women, and boys ! Natural allcction to this step doth move us — The more they are scalped, the more they will love us ! Sing tantarara, etc. Some folks are uneasy and make a great pother, l-'or the loss t)f oni' army and half of another ; But, sirs, next campaign by ten thousands we'll slay them. If we can but find soldiers and money to pay them ! Sing tantarara, etc. The Burgoyne Ballads. tl I've sung you my songf, now I'll give you a pray'r: May peace soon succeed to this horrible war ! Again may we live with our brethren in concord ! And the authors of mischief all hang in a strong cord Sing tantarara, etc. TWO I5URGOYNE DITTIES. I. Father and I went down to camp, Along with Captain Goodwin ; There we saw the men and boys As thick as hasty pudding. Antl there we saw a deuced gun, As big as tree of majjle, 'Twas on a deuced little cart, A load for father's cattle ! II.* John Burgine's a mighty big man. " Give me live thousand men." says he, " And I'll clean out the rebel clan ; Give me live thousand men," says i c, * Mr. Jared C. Markham, in sending me the above ditty, writes as follows : " The enclosed verses, as near as i can remembi r, were those that my grandfather, Asa Markham, used to sing to me when 1 was a child, sixty years ago. Asa M.irkham, a great-giandson of Daniel Markham, who was the first of the family to come to the colonies, in 1666. Daniel Markham was an own cousin to Major William Maikham, the father of William Markham, who was archbishop of York, and one of the private council of George Hi. (p. 3), at 72 The Burgoyne Ballads. " And we'll march the country through. The rebels are cowards, you'll see, The people are loyal and true." The men arc raised, and on comes John, With red-coats and Hessians in plenty. The Tories and Indians fall in In regiments and battalion, And 'mong them was seen grim Gov' nor Skene* Upon his old blundering stallion. Hut let them all j'ine and come on, With all their big lords and ladies. And all tlieir gew-gaws and laces. All got with their taxes on tea, And everything else they can sec. Of the tax we won't pay a penny. We ask no " j)rotection" of George, And uf John we do not expect any, With all his grand proclamations ! the time of the American Revolution. So, while the archbishop was luxuriating at tlie British court, and encouraging by his advice his king to war upon the colonies, his second cousin was rnjoying the freedom of colonial rebellion and revolution. .Again, a great-grandson of the ar■ You'll tell for long ; Aye — and perchance some bard may troll From out that ragged bullet hole, Another song. BURGOYNE'S DEFEAT. An Anciknt Ditty. Come, all you valiant soldiers that's courage stout and bold. Who scorn as long as life doth last, ever to be con- troll'd ; Come listen to my ditty, and the truth to you I'll tell. Concerning many a soldier, who for his country fell. lirave General Burgoyne from Canada set sail, 'Twas with eight thousand regulars, he thought would never fail ; With Hessians, Canadians and Tories, as we hear, Beside a licet of shipping, o'er Lake Champlain did steer. Before Ticonderoga, the first day of July, Their fleet and army did appear, and we did them espy; Their motions we observed full well both night and day. And our brave boys prepared all for the bloody fray. Our garrison they viewed, and soon their troops did land ; When General St. Clair, he came to understand. That the great Mount Defiance they soon would fortify, He found that he must quit his lines, or every man must die. «.( The Ihir>joyue Jinlhuh. 81 July tlie fourth vvc liad orders to retreat, Ami the next morning left our lort, liurgoync he tlio't us beat ; So closely they pursued us, 'twas nigh to Iluhharton; Our rear guard they'd defeated, they tlio't they'd gain'd renown. And when our congress came to hear that we our lines had left. And had retreated near to Albany to rest, lirave (ien. (lales they sent us our country to relieve, With shouts of acclamation of joy we him receiv'd. lUirgoyne sent out a parly of fifteen hundacl men, Of Hessians and Canadians, came near to lienning- ton, With savages and Tories, our cattle for to steal. Commanded by a Tory, they call'd him Col. Skein. And when brave Gates came to hear of Col. Skein's conduct. Sent out a small party, his march for to obstruct ; They took all his artillery, and Skein his llight may mourn, 'Twas out of fifteen hundred men but four hunilred return'd. And when Burgoync he came to hear that Skein did not succeed, With his army and artillery liurgoyiie he did proceed. Thinking tliereft)rc to frighten us and make us My ; But soon he found out his mistake, lie found we'd sooner die. July the fourteenth, that morning being clear. Brave Gates unto his men did say, my boys be of good cheer, IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 IIIM 112^ m m °°^ '" '" 1 2.2 I.I m 1.25 6" 2.0 U III 1.6 o 7 Photographic Sciences Corporation ^ a\ \ \ ^v> \ -<■. <*<. 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 > /;*" «'. C/j \ f^Y^' ^armmmmmmmtm^mmmt 82 The Btirgoyne Ballads. >r. i I. i> i \i, h \ Vt (I For Burgoyne, my lads, is advancing, and we will never fly, To maintain our country's rights, we'll fight until we die. And soon the news was brought us their army, it was near; And then, my boys, we met them, 'twas without dread or fear. And 'twas nigh unto Stillwater, and there about noon-day. And quick as you shall hear, my boys, began the bloody fray. We fought them full six hours, like valiant hearts of gold, Each party scorning to give way, we fdught like lions bold. Until the leaves with blood are stained ; our generals they did cry ; It's diamonds cut diamonds, we'll fight until we die. N'ght came on, from our lines we did retreat. Which made the Britons for to think our army it was beat ; But early the next morning, we held before their eyes, As ready to engage again, which did them much surprise. Of fighting they seemed tired, to work they then did go, In burying of their dead men, entrenchments up did throw; Thinking therefore with shot and shell our army to destroy. But brave Gates he gave such orders, he did them all defy ! The Burfjoyne Ballads. 83 At length our gracious Lord inspired our noble Gates' mind, To send out G en. Arnold * to see if he could find * A bitter controversy has been carried on for the last few years as to whether General Arnold was an actual participant in the battle of September 19th. After carefully weighing the arguments brought forward on both sides, I believe this to be the fact— VIZ., that while Arnold may not have been durino- the action itself actually on the battle-field in person (though this, even, is by no means proved), yet he was during the entire action close at hand, superintendino- and directing, under his own immediate eye everv nianoeuvre of the different regiments, thus causing them to act as one harmonious whole. Hence that m this sense he was a virtual and an active partici- pant in the battle of the 19th admits of no manner of doubt. Wilkinson, the only original authority on the American side who deprives Arnold of the credit of the success of the action, and who was, also, doubtless the ''informant" of Gordon «Sl Marshall, is entirely ivorthless and unreliable in all his statements whenever his jealousy (as in this case) is aroused, and hence should not for a moment be believed in this matter against the concurrent testimony of many of the survivors of that action, who, after death, left on record the statement that Arnold was an active participant in the battle. Among these is an order of General Kiedesel, first given to the public in Hadden's "Journal and Orderly Book" (edited by General Kogers), upon which the editor comments as fol- lows : " Now, how Arnold could have observed the^^e things on the part of his troops when, according to Wilkinson, he was 'calmly sitting on his horse a mile fi T •I — fj^i 1 vi. .w j*-i ^ui^ v.jidi%^saam!^nmmmmmm^i^''m9mimmif 84 J%6 Burgoyne Ballads. I \\ "1 f) (1 I I;' ll^ J A passage thro' the enemy, and make them for to flee : Which quickly he obtained, and set his country free. and a half away from the action, it is very difficult to understand ! ' " Steadman, a most reliable authority also, states the fact that Arnold was in the action. But besides all this, the following, from an Orderly Book kept by Colonel Thaddeus Cook, of Walling- foid. Conn., now in possession of the American Anti- quarian Society of Worcester, Mass., should set the matter beyond all doubt, even to professional carpers and cavillers. Here it is : "Division Orders, 20th Sept., a.d. 1777. Genl. Arnold returns his thanks to the officers and soldiers of his division for their brave, spirited conduct yester- day, in withstanding the force of the whole British Army, whose loss a Deserter from their army says is upward of one thousand men killed and wounded — while ours is very trifling, not one fourth Part of the enemies — a convincing proof of the mercifuU Inter- position of Heaven in covering our heads in the day of Battle, and loudly calls for our gratefuU acknowledge- ments. " The Genl. observed yesterday that two many offi- cers thi!i zeal and spirit pushed on in the front of their companies, whose business it was to have brought up those in the rear, and hopes they will in future ob- serve their proper stations and suffer no man to retreat until an order is given by the Commanding Officer of the Regts. on Detachments — those who are found to have deserted their posts in time of Action may ex- pect Instant Death. — "The Genl. makes no doubt the Troops will act with a spirit and firmness becoming free men strugling for their just Rights and Liberties when they are called out The Burgoyne Ballads. 85 And burning all their baggage, made off with haste and fear, And up to Saratoga, Burgoyne himself did steer ; Brave Gates, our bold commander, he after him did fly. Resolving for to take them all or every man must die. And soon we overtook them, it was nigh to Saratoga, A burning ail the buildings as they went on the road. ' Twas the 17th of October, they were obliged to capitulate, Burgoyne and his army, our prisoners they were made. Now to conclude my ditty, my song is at an end ; I hope no brave American will slight what I 'have penn'd. For our cause is just, in God we trust, therefore, my boys, don't fear, For brave Gates will clear America in less than one more year. Now here's a health to congress, and our commander Gates,, To officers and soldiers, whom all the Tories hate, God prosper and succeed them, it's both by land and sea. Success to the brave Americans and sons of liberty. agam, which they may expect every moment, and wishes them to make every necessary preparation." Now, how, in the face of this order, any one can say that Arnold was not an active participator in the action of the 19th passes comprehension. P! 86 The Burgoyne Ballads. I' ^' l! THE NORTH CAMPAIGN.'^ A Song of Saratoga. Come unto me, ye heroes, Whose hearts are true and bold. Who value more your honor Than others do their gold ; Give ear unto my story, And I the truth will tell Concerning many a soldier Who for his country fell. Burgoyne, the king's commander, From Canada set sail With full eight thousand reg'lars. He thought he could not fail ; With Indians and Canadians, And his cursed tory crew, On board his fleet of shipping He up the Champlain flew. Before Ticondcroga, The first day of July, Appear'd his ships and army. And we did them espy. *This ballad was known during the Revolution as " The North Campaign," " Gates's Song," and "A Song for the Red-coats," and was for a long period sung throughout New England. It has been attributed to a private in Colonel Brooks's regiment and also to the author of "American Taxation." A portion of it is changed somewhat by the " wagoner" of Dr. Dwight's story. It would seem, however, that this is a mere paraphrase of " An Ancient Ditty," also published in this connection, though under a different title. ,il i> ,■ . I ■ Bli./H The Burgoyne Ballads. Their motions we observed Full well both night and day, And our brave boys prepared To have a bloody fray. Our garrison they viewed them, As straight their troops did land. And when St. Clair, our chieftain, The fact did understand That they the Mount Defiance Were bent to fortify, He found we must surrender, Or else prepare to die. The fifth day of July, then, He order'd a retreat,* 87 * The semi-criticism here is most just. St. Clair, although a true patriot, erred most amazingly in not having Mount Defiance, or Sugar-Loaf Hill— as it was also called, from its resemblance to the old-fashioned loaves of sugar— fortified. Especially, too, was he great- ly blameworthy from the fact that the great importance of fortifying it had been long previously pointed out. Origmally it had been supposed, and, in fact, had been taken for granted, that the crest of Sugar-Loaf Hill was not only inaccessible, but too distant to be of any avail m covering the main fortress— ?>., Fort Ticonder- oga. This opinion was, as said, an error, to which the attention of the officers stationed at Ticonderoga had been called the preceding year by Colonel John Trumbull, then adjutant-general for the Northern Department. When Colonel Trumbull made the suggestion, he was laughed at by the mess ; but he soon proved the accuracy of his own vision by throw- ing a cannon-shot to the summit, and subsequently I 1^ i ,'m i' vi'l 88 The Buryoyne Balladn. And when next morn we started, Burgoyne thought we were beat. And closely he pursued us, Till when near Hubbardton, Our rear guards were defeated. He thought the country won. And when it was told in Congress, That we our forts had left, To Albany retreated. Of all the North bereft, Brave General Gates they sent us. Our fortunes to retrieve, And him with shouts of gladness The army did receive* clambered to the top, dragging a cannon after him, accompanied by Colonels Stevens, Wane, and Arnold. It was, in fact, a criminal neglect on the part of St. Clair, that the oversight was not at once corrected by the construction of a work upon that point, which would have commanded both the whole post and the surrounding country. St. Clair was tried afterward by a court-martial for evacuating Ticonderoga, but he was acquitted more on account of his tried patriotism than of his skilful management. Schuyler, also, had seen the necessity of occupying Mount Defiance, and had urgently requested from Congress re-enforcements for that purpose. — Conversations of the Author s Fatlier zvith Colonel yohn Triimbiill. * In allusion to the fact that General Schuyler was most unjustly held in great odium by the New England troops — a fact which was the cause of his being superseded by Gates in the command, leaving Gates to reap the fruits of what Schuyler had, by his \ ' The Burgoyne Ballads. Where first the Mohawk's waters Do in the sunshine play, For Herldmer's brave soldiers Sellinger* ambush'd lay : And them he there defeated, But soon he had his due, ' And scaredf by Brooks and Arnold He to the North withdrew. To take the stores and cattle That we had gathered then, Burgoyne sent a detachment Of fifteen hundred men ; 89 wonderful generalship, sown. The cause is not far to seek. Schuyler was a stria disciplinarian, and per- haps a little too autocratic and unapproachable by his privates This manner the New Englanders greatly resented ; and in Gates, who, for motives of his own— which were to supplant even Washington himself— they found a person to listen to all their grievances. Hence bchuyJer was most unjustly superseded, chiefly by the contemptible jealousy of Adams and other New Eng anders in Congress. The same feeling of New England jealousy against the soldiers of New York and the South had, however, found expression years before during the ca.npaign, in 1755, of Sir William Johnson against Dieskau. This contemptible jealousy had then been very nearly the cause of defeat. " St. Leger. t A man employed by the British as a spy was taken by Arnold, and at the suggestion of Colonel Brooks sent back to St. Leger with such deceptive accounts of the strength of the Americans as induced nim to retreat toward Montreal. \i I M f T H ^1/ 3 s/, II: ^^ ^>^^ Burgoyne Ballads. By Baum they were commanded, To Bennington they went; To plunder and to murder Was fully their intent. But little did they know then VVith whom they had to deal ; It was not quite so easy Our stores and stock to steal ; Bold Stark would give them only A portion of his lead : With half his crew ere sunset Baum lay among the dead. The nineteenth of September, The morning cool and clear. Brave Gates rode through our army, Each soldier's heart to cheer : " Burgoyne," he cried, " advances, But we will never fly ; No — rather than surrender, We'll fight him till we die." The news was quickly brought us, The enemy was near, And all along our lines then There was no sign of fear ; It was above Stillwater VVe met at noon that day, And every one expected To see a bloody fray. Six hours the battle lasted, Each heart was true as gold. The British fought like lions, And we like Yankees bold ; \ I I The Burgoyne Ballads. The leaves with blood were crimson, And then brave Gates did cry — "Tis diamond now cut diamond ! We'll beat them, boys, or die."* The darkness soon approaching, It forced us to retreat Into our lines till morning, Which made them think us beat ; But ere the sun was risen. They saw before their eyes Us ready to engage them. Which did them much surprise. Of fighting they seem'd weary. Therefore to work they go Their thousand dead to bury, And breastworks up to throw : With grape and bombs intending Our army to destroy. Or from our works our forces By stratagem decoy. The seventh day of October The British tried again. Shells from their cannon throwing, Which fell on us like rain, To drive us from our stations That they might thus retreat ; For now Burgoyne saw plainly He never us could beat. 01 This of course is " bosh," or, perhaps, we may charitably call it "poetical license," as Gates acted in both actions the roll of a coward. See my " Bur- goyne's Campaign." ! i •il^l l-:\\ 'I I 92 TJie Burfjoyne Ballads. But vain was his endeavor Our men to terrify ; Though death was all around us, Not one of us would fly. But when an hour we'd fought them, And they began to yield, Along our lines the cry ran, " The next blow wins the field." Great God who won their battles, Whose cause is just and true. Inspired our bold commander The course he should pursue. He order'd Arnold forward, And Brooks* to follow on ; The enemy were routed, Our liberty was won ! Then, burning all their luggage, They fled with haste and fear, Burgoyne with all his forces To Saratogue did steer ; And Gates our brave commander, Soon after him did hie, Resolving he would take them Or in the effort die. I*' : , if ': ; y i1 / *John Brooks, governor of Massachusetts, born in Medford, Mass., May 31st, 1752; died March ist, 1825. He assisted in fortifying Breed's Hill. In the second battle of Saratoga, on October 7th, he stormed and carried the German intrenchments at the head of his regiment. He greatly assisted Baron Steuben in his tactics, and was a very valued officer of the Revo- lution. I I I The Burgoyne BalhuU. As we came nigh the village, We overtook the foe ; They'd burned each house to ashes, Like all where'er they go. The seventeenth of October, They did cajjitulate ; Burgoyne and his proud army Did we our pris'ners make. Now here's a health to Arnold, And our commander Gates ; To Lincoln*'" and to Washington, VVhom ev'ry Tory hates; Likewise unto our Congress, God grant it long to reign, Our Country, Right and Justice For ever to maintain. Now finish'd is my story, My song is at end ; The freedom we're enjoying We're ready to defend ; For while our cause is righteous, Heaven nerves the soldier's arm. And vain is their endeavor Who strive to do us harm. 98 THE CARPET KNIGHT. By Joseph SxANSBURY.f Late a council of gods from their heavenly abodes Were call'd on Olympus to meet ; * General Lincoln behaved bravely in this battle- and to him is due the credit of crea'/ig a diversion in favor of Gates by his assault on Ticonderoga. tjoseph Stansbury, merchant, born in England in I ! m^m ■ivavi mgmmmmmt If I'l, ;!): fi \ t; ( I Hi 94 The Burgoyne Ballads. Jove gave his commands from his throne in the clouds : Attend, and his words I'll repeat. Ye know, all ye pow'rs that attend my high throne, Your will to my pleasure must bow ; I will that those gifts which you prize as your own Shall now be bestowed on my Howe. Astrcsa, who long since had quitted the earth. Presented her balance and sword ; The honors derived from titles and birth By JtiJio were instant conferred ; 1750; died in New York City in 1809. Emigrating to Philadelphia, he became an importing merchant, and held a high position as a man of integrity and an up- right and high-minded citizen. In 1776 he was im- prisoned in Burlington, N. J., for having sung in his house "Gcd Save the King." He was again, in 1780, imprisoned by the Whigs in Philadelphia. Upon his liberation his property was restored, and with his family he resided in New York during the remainder of the war, but returned to Philadelphia in 1 785, after a brief residence in Nova Scotia. Threatened again in that city with violence, he gave up his former occupation and, removing to New York, became secretary of an insur- ance company. He wrote in support of the crown, and his verses were edited by VVinthrop Sargent, under the title of " Stansbury's and Odell's Loyal Verses" (Munsell, Albany, i860) — verses which at the time they were first written obtained considerable popularity among the adherents of the crown. The date of this song, says Mr. Sargent, seems to be De- cember 24th, 1777, shortly after Howe's return to Philadelphia, from his idle attempt to surprise Wash- ington's army at W^hitemarsh. 1 .' ■" ^1 (I ill The Burgoyne Ballads. 95 Fierce J/^r/gave his chariot ; gay Hermes his wand • Alcides, his club and his bow ; Sweet Peace with her olive-branch graced his hand • And Ve7ms herself did bestow. Thus enrich'd with such gifts as the gods can impart 1 he hero by Jove was address'd ; As you wish to reclaim each American heart Let justice preside in your breast ; Exhibit the blessings of order and peace As wide as your conquests shall spread • Let your promise be sacred— rebellion shall cease And the laurel shall bloom round your head. ' I know that fell Discord, your zeal to oppose Will nourish Sedition and Hate ; Mistakes may occur, and friends suffer with foes • Yet your wish is confirmed by fate. Sweet Peace shall revive from the horrors of war Her empire again be restor'd ; Affection and duty shall cover each scar, And Hoioe by the world be ador'd ! Now \yith shame must the muse the sad sequel display • With sorrow, and shame, and surprise : The gifts oiAstrcea he lost by the way, * And her fillet he plac'd o'er his eyes.' The arms of Alcides he sent to Burgoyne, And with them the chariot of Mars ; For what but assistance and weapons divine Could finish such Quixotic wars ? Hermes' wand was now useless ; no snakes would unite. \? •Perhaps in allusion to the broken snake, with the motto " Unite or die," so much in vogue at the time Ul Tfms. "BB '•■,; I ! If \l' H'l ■ [■'in 96 27 ■ 11 ■I ' 124 The Burgoyne Ballads. To the stern hearts of men should speak : The strong should bow before the weak, And pity her wild woe. Her love the stricken one should bless, Her lips the brow of pain shouH press, By all her soul's deep tendernf , She to her lord would go ! Down by the surging river's shore. Lashed by the foaming spray. With spreading sail and waiting oar, The frail boat ready lay — And thither with light step and fleet, Her fond heart winging her fast feet, The brave wife bent her way. A moment's pause, a brief space o'er. And swift the light, careering barque, Launched out upon the waters dark, And closer round her shivering form. Fell the cold mantle of the storm. Oh, strengthened by the holy flame. That glows within her breast, And nerves with power her gentle frame, When clouds come o'er her heaven fair, What will not woman do and dare For those her love hath blest ! • I '■H . 1' THE BURIAL OF GEN. ERASER. From Theodore Dwight's *' Northern Traveller."* L The warrior sleeps, he wakes no more, At glory's voice of chivalry ; * Theodore Dwight, author and editor, was born (A \ 1/ I The Burgoyne Ballads. 125 His part amid the strife is o'er He starts not at the cannon's roar, Nor rolling drum, nor musketry. in Hartford, Conn., March 3d, 1796. In 1833, ^^ ^^- moved to Brooklyn, N. Y., and engaged in various public and philanthropic enterprises, becoming a direct- or in numerous religious and educational societies. In 1854-8 he, with George Walker, was active in a systematic effort to send free-soil settlers to Kansas ; and it is estimated that 9000 persons were induced by them to go to that State. He was at different times engaged in an editorial capacity on several newspapers and magazines, and he was at one time chief editor and publisher of tlie New York Presbyterian. He published a number of works, one of which was " The Northern Traveller," from which the above verses are taken. He was a grandson of the Rev. Dr. Timothy, who served in the army of General Gates in Parsons' Brigade of the Connecticut line, and who, a few days before the battles of Saratoga, preached from the text : " / will remove far from me the Northc7'n armyl' At the time of his death Mr. Dwight was translating educational works into Spanish, for introduction into Spanish-American countries. He was an exceedingly active man, bearing his age wonderfully well. Indeed, this very activity was the direct cause of his death, which occurred in 1866. Shortly before his decease he called on me at the Journal of Commerce, of which paper I was then city editor, and coming up to the fifth floor — it was before the days of elevators — he fairly bounded into my room, exclaiming: "Mr. Stone, I have run up your stairs as easily and with no more effort than as if I were a boy again !" Some four days later, while attempting to board a Pennsyl- sassx ;i I i r'' !'■ « * 126 The Burgoyne Ballads. II. No more the soldier leads the band Of Britain's warlike infantry, They hear no more his stern command Nor gleams his sword, nor waves his hand Urging to death or victory ! III. The rifle lays the chieftain low By Morgan aimed so fatally. He falls where streams of life blood flow, Where comrades 'neath the deadly blow Have fallen wounded mortally. IV. So " Glory leads but to the grave" Such was the soldier's destiny To meet his doom he crossed the wave, His life-blood flowed, his deeds so brave, Were given for chains and slavery. V. In evening shadows sinks the sun, And life departs thus mournfully, Its brightness facfes in shade .vs dun, And so the hero's course was run, And ended thus in tragedy. vania Railroad train in motion — relying upon this same activity — he was thrown under the wheels and instantly killed ! '.N '< The Bxmjoyne Ballads. VI. His lifeless form is borne on hi^h ,,.[" solemn martial pageantry ' While threat'ning clouds obscure the sky And fires of death are flashing nigh And roar of dread artillery 127 h ■ :i It I ' 'i i'i: i; ii. ' BALLiiDS ON THE DEATH OF JANE McCREA. SKKTr j{( OF JANE McCREA. There have ■ leer 50 many ditfcrent versions of the tragic d«''ath of Jane >'cC''ea put forth, both at the time ot the occvrrence 0: > since, that it seems only proper to give, as .1 prtuucr •• ^h^ numerous poems and ballads on this subject, the true version as gath- ered by myself after much research. Jane McCrea was born in Bed minster (now Lam- ington), N. J., in 1753, and was killed near Fort Ed- v.'ard, N. Y., July 27th, 1777. She was the second daughter of Rev. James McCrea, a Presbyterian clergyman of Scotch descent, whose father, William, was an elder in White Clay Creek Church, near New- ark, Del. After his death she made her home with her brother John at Fort Edward, N. Y.* It is safe to * John McCrea, the brother of Jane, was a patriot. He had been with the unfortunate expedition of General Montgomery and fought in the battle of Quebec ; and when General Schuyler, in command at F"ort Edward, called on the militia to take the field. J SI- I I The Burgoyne Ballads. 129 say that no event, either in ancient or modern warfare, has received more versions than that of her death. It has been commemorated in story and in song, and narrated in grave histories in as many different ways as there have been writers on the subject. The facts appear to be as follows: David Jones, her lover, an officer in Burgoyne's army, then lying four miles from Fort Edward, sent a party of Indians, under Duluth, a half-breed, to es- cort his betrothed to the British camp, where they were to be at once married by Chaplain Brudenell,* Lady I he promptly obeyed the summons. Between him and David Jones there had arisen an estrangement, grow- ing out of their opposite sympathies in relation to the war. But Jane still clung to her betrothed, notwith- standing her brother's dislike for him. * There is also much probability that Jane received communications from her lover at intervals, especially after the British army left Skenesborough. The fol- 16wing original letter from Jones to Jenny bears out this view : '•Skenesboro', July ii, 1777. ''Dear Friend : I have ye opportunity to send you this by William Bamsy, hoping through Freel it will come safe to hand. Since last writing, Ty has been taken, and we have had a battle, which no doubt you have been informed of before this. Through God's mercy I escaped destruction, and am now well at this place, for which thanks be to Him. The rebels cannot recover from the blow yt has been struck, and no doubt the war will soon end. Such should be the prayer of all of us. Dear Jenny, I do not forget you, though 130 llie Btirgoyne Ballads. Harriet Acland* and Madame Riedesel (the wife of General Riedesel, in command of the Brunswick con- tingent) having good-naturedly consented to grace the nuptials by their presence. Duluth, having arrived within aquarterofamileofthe house of a Mrs. McNeil, a cousin of General Fraser (where Jane was waiting), halted in the woods until he should be joined by her by preconcerted arrangement. Meanwhile, another body of Indians from the British camp, under Le Loup, a fierce Wyandotte chief, returning from a marauding %U f - * much there is to distract in these days, and hope I am remembered by you as formerly. In a few days we will march to Ft. Edward, for which I am anxious, where I shall have the happiness to meet you, after long absence. I hear from Isaac Vaughn, who has just come in, that the people on the river are moving to Albany. I hope if your brother John goes, you will not go with him, but stay at Mrs. McNeil's, to whom and Miss Hunter give my dutiful respects. There I will join you. My dear Jenny, these are sacl times, but I think the war will end this year, as the rebels cannot hold out, and will see their error. By the blessing of Providence I trust we shall yet pass many years together in peace. Shall write on every occasion that offers, and hope to find you at Mrs. McNeil's. No more at present; but believe me yours affectionately till death. David Jones." * For a sketch of Lady Acland, explaining the fab- ulous account of her marriage with Parson Brudenell, etc.see Appendix No. V. I do not give one of Madame Riedesel, as that is found in my " Memoirs of General and Madame Riedesel," Munsell's Sons, Albany, N. Y. •i The Burgoyne Ballads. 131 expedition in the vicinity, drove in a scout of Ameri- cans, and stopping, on their return, at Mrs. McNeil's, took her and Jane captive, with the intention of bringing them into the British camp. On their way back they encountered Duluth's party, when the half- breed claimed Jane as being under his protection. Le Loup being unwilling to surrender his prisoner — himself wishing the honor of being her escort — high words ensued between the two leaders, when Le Loup,, enraged at being opposed, in a fit of violent passion, shot her through the heart. Then, having scalped his victim, he carried the reeking scalp into the British camp, where it was immediately recognized, by its long and beautiful tresses, by Mrs. McNeil, who, having been separated from Jane before the catastrophe, had arrived at Burgoyne's headquarters a little in advance. The next day her mangled body was conveyed by her brother. Colonel John McCrea, to the camp-ground of the fort, and there buried. Her lover, David Jones, it is said, never recovered from the shock thus received. He soon after resigned and left the army, and after many years of melancholy died unmarried. Miss McCrea is described by those who knew her personally as a young woman of rare accomplishments, great personal attractions, and of a remarkable sweet- ness of disposition. She was of medium stature, finely formed, and of a delicate blonde complexion. Her hair was of a golden brown and silken lustre, and, when unbound, trailed upon the ground. Her father was devoted to literary pursuits, and she thus had acquired a taste for reading unusual in one of her age in those early times. The tragic death of Jane McCrea was to the people of New York what the battle of Lexington was to the New England colonies. In each case the effect was 182 The Burgoyne Ballads. If V.:V ,■1' k Kvi Vi 1:1 ll':' to consolidate the inhabitants more firmly against the invaders. The blood of the unfortunate maiden was not shed in vain. Her name was passed as a note of alarm along the banks of the Hudson, and, as a rally- ing cry among the Green Mountains of Vermont, brought down to the army of Gates her hardy sons. It thus contributed in no slight degree to Burgoyne's defeat, which became a precursor and principal cause of American independence. Descendants of the Mc- Crea family are still (1893) living at Ballston, N. Y., and in other parts of the State of New York, and also in Newport, R. I. At the time of her death, her mangled and disfigured body was conveyed by her brother, Colonel John Mc- Crea, and sympathizing friends to Moses Kill, where a fortified camp-ground, laid out by the celebrated Polish engineer Kosciusko, was then occupied by the rear guard of the American army, under the command of General Arnold. Here, after some preparation, her body, together with that of the fated Van Vecten, was committed to a common grave. On April 2 2d, 1822, these remains were removed to the old burial-ground near the fort, at the lower end of the village of Fort Edward. The ceremonial was attended with unusual pomp and display for those early days — the celebrated and afterward unfortunate Hooper Cummings, of Al- bany, preaching upon that occasion from Micah 2 : 10 so impressive and pathetic a sermon that many of his audience were convulsed with sobs and weep- ing. The remains of Miss McCrea were, in 1852, again removed to the Union Cemetery between Fort Ed- ward and Sandy Hill, the McCrea lot being near the main entrance. The marble slab which marks the spot bears the following inscription : :-i^-_rrr.rTjr-:i. , T/ie jBurgoyne Ballads. 133 HERE REST THE REMAINS OF JANE McCREA AGED 17 MADE CAPTIVE AND MURDERED BY A BAND OF INDIANS WHILE ON A VISIT TO A RELATIVE IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD A.D. 1777 TO COMMEMORATE ONE OF THE MOST THRILLING INCIDENTS IN THE ANNALS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION TO DO JUSTICE TO THE FAME OF THE GALLANT BRITISH OFFICER TO WHOM SHE WAS AFFIANCED AND AS A SIMPLE TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF THE DEPARTED THIS STONE IS ERECTED BY HER NIECE SARAH HANNA PAYNE A.D. 1852. "There is at present" (1893), writes to me Mrs. Charles Stone, of Sandy Hill, who, with most praise- worthy zeal, has taken a deep interest in the matter " a cham fence with stone posts around the lot. The marble slab bears the coat-of-arms of the relic-hunter ' bemg nicked at every point, except possibly beneath the soil. The whole has the appearance of jrreat neglect. There is, however, a fund now being raised to put It in much better condition. The public schools of Sandy Hill and Glens Falls have sent penny do- nations, and Fort E. has promised to do likewise It is the intention of the trustees of the cemetery to have the improvements made this spring. Thev \vish to erect a substantial fence, ornamental, of iron,'but to be kept impenetrable from the chisel of the relic- I 1 134 The Burgoyne Ballads. .* II \\ hunter. Referring again to the fund, several of our citizens have given ; others are only waiting to be called upon. Ex-Mayor Henry Bedlow, of New- port, on learning the facts and of the fund, sent immediately fifty dollars. Mr. Bedlow has among his family deeds those of the McCreas, Jane having been his great-aunt. The treasurer of the Union Cem- etery is Ashiel Irving, cashier of the First National Bank of Fort Edward, and he will take pleasure in receiving contributions toward this end. In short, Jane McCrea's romantic and tragic death is of national importance, and means should be taken to let the public know of the fund now being raised. A certain portion of the fund will be kept in trust continually to improve, adorn, and keep in order the lot."* To A. THE EPISODE OF JANE McCREA. (Samuel Standish narrator). By Rev. O. C. AuRiNCER.f W. Ilolden, A.M., M.D., Scholar, Physician, and Friend, this poem is gratefully dedicated. Part I. We left the camp behind us locked in sleep, And marched with silent footsteps to the plain. * For an account of the latter days of Lieutenant David Jones, her betrothed, see Appendix No. V^I. f Obadiah Cyrus Auringer, one of the most brilliant of the later-day exponents of the poetry of nature and nature's God, a most clever sonneteer and a writer of the sweetest, most taking, and elevating verse, was born in Glens Falls, Warren County, N.Y., The Burgoyne Ballads. 135 We paused a moment at the sentry's hail, And answering passed on. Quitting the road — June 4th, 1849, o^ German-French parents. He was educated in the local schools, studied litera- ture and science for several years under various tutors, and hegan contributing articles in prose and verse to New York papers at the age of eighteen. Since then his name has become well known to readers of peri- odical literature, and his poems have been considered worthy of place in such standard works as Stedman & Hutchinson's " Library of American Literature," Sharp's "American Sonnets" (London), Crandall's '* Representative Sonnets" and Higginson & Big- elow s " American Sonnets," as well as many other collections of high standing and similar nature. He entered the United States Navy at the age of twenty- two, and for three years was attached to the " Worces- ter" on the West Indian station, where he studied life in the tropics, and contributed to journals North and South. He >;ft the navy in the summer of 1875, and spent several subsequent years on the family estate on Glen Lake, Warren County — as he says, " cultivating strawberries and poetry with considerable success." He was married in 1875 to Mrs. Eva Hendry x. While at Glen Lake he issued two volumes of poetry, contributed to leading papers and magazines, and began the study of theology, preparatory to entering the ministry. He was ordained in 1890 as a minister in the Presbyterian church. He removed to North- wood, N. Y., where he published another volume of verse. He was successful in his chosen profession, built up the church, and was, in 1893, called to the Third Presbyterian church of Troy, N. Y., over which he is now pastor. Mr. Auringer has published the fol- 136 n ii 1 ' i ^ I; : ' s'' ! ^ V.) 'St ' n ■: The Burgoyne Ballads. The broad way from the fortress leading north — We fell in file along a narrow path That lay across the plain and river marsh, O'ertopped a bluff by shaggy growths o'erspread, And crowned with pines and silence, leading thence Still on amid the wildwood's tangled glooms, Straight toward an ancient blockhouse on the hill. There lay the posts we were to seize and keep 'Gainst scout or foray from the British line, Encamped upon the high plains to the north. Eighteen good men we were, armed woodman-like With musket, knife and hatchet, every man A chosen soldier seasoned in the wars — Sons of the sword, all eager for the work, — Led by a dark lieutenant, silent, stern. Yet true as steel and loved by every man — The trustiest in the camp. Without a word We moved in line along the narrow path. Crossed the flat plain, crossed the low river marsh, And steeped in moonshine and hot airs of night. Set knees against the rough acclivity. And gave ourselves to the wild wilderness. lowing volumes of poetry: " Voice of a Shell," 1S83; "Scythe and JSword," 1887; "Heart of the Golden Roan," 1 89 1. He has now in preparation for early publication the " Episode of Jane McCrea," a nar- rative poem ; and a volume of minor verse. — Sketch by J. A. HoLDEN, of Glens Falls, N. Y. This poem was originally published in the Glens Falls Messenger, of December, 1888, a few years before Dr. Holden's death. A sketch of this lamented gentle- man, by his son, J. A. Holden, will be found in Ap- pendix No. XI. I The Burgoyne Ballads. 137 We climbed the steep ascent with guns atrail, Picking our steps among the roots and stones That hid along the pathway. Now and then A musket breech would clink against a stone, Sending a sudden thrill along the file ; And then again some careless-falling foot Would slip and bring a soldier to his knee, Or send him reeling sidelong from the path. Where he would catch and cling by branch or limb, And sway his body back in line again, And onward as before. Then suddenly Some man would stop stock still along the file. Smote in the face by some lithe hazel rod That, carried out of place and springing back, Stung like a whip. Then would an oath break forth, Strangled at birth ; and followed in its turn A laugh or joke in smothered undertones At his expense who suffered from the blow — Danger just seasoned by a spice of fun, And no one made the worse, so all was still. For we were men trained not to utter sound Above necessity when foes were nigh Like those that hemmed us now. Because one day While hunting deer among the mountain glens Round old Ticonderoga in the north. And lying hushed and breathless with suspense, Hid in a rocky hollow, while our foes Drew ever closer round tlieir secret snaies, An Irishman, o'erfull of bubbling fun And mirth, — the wit and spirit of the camp, — Possessed by some rash madness of the brain, Let loose his tongue with such garrulity That all the woods heard, and within an hour Revealed our hiding-place, and brought the foe Around us, roaring like a rush of wolves. 138 The Burgoyne Ballads. And in the vvildvvood battle waged that day From tree to tree along that rugged ground, A feathered arrow from a warrior's bow Pierced both poor Michael's cheeks, transfixed the tongue, And silenced it forever. O'er the plain Two hills arose, abrupt and difificult To master — one above the other piled Like cloud on mountain, blotting out the stars And sky-gleams on the north. And on the crown \ Of the first height lay shelved a little plot, By jealous fairies stolen from the wilds. Gone bare of trees, but richly carpeted With soft green moss and silent, and it lay Walled three sides round by netted hazelwood Impenetrable. And there by the hill's sheer brow Where mingled earth with rock sprang onegreat pine, Whose black bulk carved on darkness towered in air In rugged perpendicular, and thence Branching, spread broad a dark green canopy, Mysterious, o'er the moss-soft forest floor, And down amid its roots a forest spring. Alive and cool, broke through the leaves and moss, Filling its shadowy basin to the brim, And then o'erflowing, broke o'er the hill's brow, Streaking the hillside with a vein of pearl. This was the ancient pine, and this the spring, And here the spot renowned in all the world, And here we halted, breathing hard, and here. With studied charge and order from the chief, Low spoken in the dark, distinct and short, I took my stand beneath the ancient pine To watch till morning. And my friends filed on, Vague bulks in darkness, laboring up the path, The Burgoyne Ball-ada. 139 Across the plot, and up the next ascent, On toward the ruined blockhouse on the hill. A long and lonesome watch beneath that tree — Long watch and lonesome ; wide in darkness spread The night-lone landscape round, behind, before — A wilderness gone dreaming, with the moon. Stars, silent-pacing clouds and stealthy airs Alert above it ; and below, alert. Their fellow-guard and watchman of the night, I, with my weapon and a lonely heart, But unafraid, kept watch, obedient, For our dear country's sake and liberty. The night hung slumberous, but one must keep His senses bound about him — no light charge. With naught to keep him wakeful but to watch, Just watch and wait the sluggish hours away, And listen. And to move beyond a small Circle well worn of safe and level ground, To stir about and feel one's self at large — Strictly forbid ! To make companionship With one's own pleasant inward impulses By singing songs, as soldiers love to do, Or whistling to call up the merry thoughts, To charm an idle watch — most perilous ! Our foes were wary ears, and there was cause To fear some few red warriors from the camp Above us lurked about the fort that night. A soldier's mind hoards small philosophy Among its treasures, woo it as he will ; A life of shocks breaks up the course of thought. And checks it midway. Contemplation, shy. Recluse and sensitive, starts from the sound Of war's oncoming murmur militant. J t - 140 The Burgoyne Ballads. \ u And 'mid the roar of his impetuous rush Gathers her things about her daintily, And vanishes ; — Guard ! is the soldier's watchword. And yet he has his fancies, often sweet. Dreams dreams, and has ambitions of his own, Most welcome, though so oft they come to naught ; He has his store of stirring memories Laid up through years of strange experience, Of camps and marches, bloody battle-fields. Shipwrecks at sea, and perils on the shore. Hair-breadth escapes — all memorable things To lighten up the long hours of a watch. All these my mind tossed o'er, then fled away, Heart-piloted beyond the wilderness. And visited beside the eastern sea A humble fisher town 'twixt sands and crags Clustered apart, a butt for bluff sea winds. And salt-sharp storms hurled inland from the main. There stood a house I knew of, with its door Opening upon the wild sea waves, with sand. And wreck, and waste of many a stormy tide Spread near it. And I saw upon the beach My three sweet motherless children hard at play With all their little sea things — fairy boats Freighted with fairy thoughts imaginative Launched bravely from their hands, with mingled cries Of joy and apprehension — '* See, she floats !" " She's down ! she's gone !" " Nay, there she comes again ! How sweetly she sails on now ! We will call Her name the Lucky Sailor, for good luck." And then they wave their hands and cry in the wind : " Luck to the Lucky Sailor !" o'er the foam. Back flashed my thought, and then forth out of earth, Or visionary starlight, airy space, The Burgoyne Ballads. 141 Or fairyland of beauty none knows where, A maid's sweet face rose on my heart, distinct With light more real than reality, And warm as coming sunrise when far off It lingers half reluctant. Ah, such grace ! Fairer for loveliness than eye beholds Ever amid these desert solitudes Forsaken of fair things ! And it appeared, Arrayed for wonder and for loveliness, In one long downward flood of yellow hair. Like that which flows 'mid webs of charmed romance, Magical tales and legends all forlorn Imagined in old time, to net the heart. And bear it happy captive through the tale. Whereat my lips obedient spoke aloud A name in the darkness with such vehemence As made me start alarmed, and cast around Eyes apprehensive. But the loyal night. Kindly discreet, gave not the sound away To alien senseless ears. It was a name Since famous in the annals of the land That heard it cried round its circumference. Till it became a sign to conjure with, A watchword and a symbol. It had power So that a banner blazoned with that name. And borne from town to town through the broad land, Might by its magic gather to itself How many a thousand gallant hearts and swords. Fast pledged to all heroic sacrifice. For vengeance and our land's dear liberties! And in that name deeds deemed incredible, Opposed to all the precedents of war. Were yearly done and recorded by fame. Until the land breathed free, and we beheld Our flag triumphant wave from every hill. ^ « 142 The Burgoyne Ballads. I . m \ (i And in that name what individual acts Have been accomplished ! I have known the soul, Lukewarm in hope and courage, take quick fire, And burn to noble death beneath its spell. And I have known the base and dissolute — The wretch that fought for plunder, hardened men. Cold soldiers by profession, shallow souls — Burlesques of heroes, lions in the camp. And lambs in battle — I have known all these To change their very nature at that name. And in the day of opportunity Prove Romans all ; and terrible in fight, Heap fame and honor and proud victory Upon themselves and country ! But these things Were yet unknown, unborn. The burning deed Yet lingered that would consecrate that name, Baptize it in warm blood, and send it forth On its miraculous mission through the world. As yet the name of maiden Jane McCrea Was but a synonym of beauty, grace. And worth, and all things rare and excellent In maidenhood's domain. And in that realm She ruled supreme and only. It was she Who reigned the belle of all the border land, The boast and toast of all the gallant souls In camp and garrison, the old man's cheer. The light of every young man's heart and eyes ; A queenly creature, governing her world By right supreme of beauty and excellence. Who moved among her people royally. Regarded now with fond solicitude, Because 'twas whispered that she was in love — Love makes a maiden sacred, so they say. 1 :i The Burgoyne Ballads. 143 Among the people there's a story told About a soldier wounded in the war, Who fled through weary leagues of wilderness 'Mid wild and secret perils of the woods, Hunger and beasts and foes inveterate. Seeking the camp ; and how at length he reached it — Only to lay him down a broken man In mind and body in a hospital. Along with more of war's unfortunates, To be born back with pain ; and how our Jane, Then but a tender bud of maidenhood. From sacred pity that he had no friend To nurse him in his sickness, took the place Of the restoring angel by his bed, And came and went a sunbeam in the gloom Of that dark hospital ; and how at length, Amid the feeble glimmerings of his mind. He knew her face alone among the many That passed before him daily. And 'tis said That when the lamp of mind burned clear once more And he could rise and walk with growing strength, And feel his heart returning through her care. From long beholding her he came to love her ; — The gentle looks, the touch of soothing hands, And all the nameless magic of a voice Attuned to sympathy, so wrought upon him That when he rose again, a man restored. His heart had all gone forth to the restorer. And then they tell how he delayed to speak The passion that possessed him, hiding it And hoarding it for awe and sacredness, Apart within his breast ; till learning late By chance report of love already pledged By her to some first lover long preferred. In manly silence, but with broken looks, I 1' i! i !■ 144 The Burgoyne Ballads. He went away, leaving due recompense Of gratitude for all the faithfulness That wrought his restoration. So he passed From living sight and knowledge of his friends, And half from their remembrance as the days, Burdened with anxious cares of war, went by, And strife of factions. Then at last came one Who brought the tidings of a battle fought Out somewhere in the West, who told the tale That when 'twas o'er and won, among the slain They found a soldier, propped against a wall. Still grasping his red blade, and round his feet, Fallen in a horrid heap, full many a foe Lay weltering, gashed with many a fearful wound. As from a madman's fury. And they found, W^hen they approached to bear him from that post Of death and valor to a soldier's grave. Pressed to dead lips with war-ensanguined hand A lock of golden hair, that could have grown On but one lovely head in all the world. Ah, such a girl ! Ah me, had I been young ! — Had I been young and free, as once I'd been. With all the virgin hunger of the heart, And all the headlong fire and fantasy That heavenly beauty kindles in the biain, What soul can tell what might have been ? Ah well. Her heart had built its nest in another tree ! Her smile, that would have overflowed with light Of glory and gladness some proud patriot's soul. Love-darkened all for her, had lit amiss Upon a Royalist! And truly 'twas A time of strange affections, lives perplexed. And lives run all to random ! Ere the war Broke o er our land for life and liberty, The Burgoyne Ballads. 145 While peace prolific tended at the plough, And heaped the grain in autumn well content, Walking thus largely liberal through the year, A youth, young, gay, and handsome, choicely bred. With mind and manners shaped in city schools. Whose stock had taken root in border soil, And flourished into fair prosperity With lands and cattle, saw our forest rose Brightening the borders of his daily path, And stopped, admired and plucked it. And the maid, Whose kin were friends of freedom, first of those Who voiced in the assemblies of the people Those thoughts deemed treason by the power o'er seas Ruling our land, became his promised bride — And he a Royalist ! By what mad chance, Or what wild tossing of the dice of fate, While wild war-spirits laughed, that stroke befell. Predicting strange confusion in the event, And necessary vengeance — who can say I Were there not gallant fellows mad to woo. And just as gallant fellov/s mad to win, Among her near and loyal countrymen. Who blessed the ground she trod on, air she breathed, And made her queen and goddess of their thoughts, That she should cast her treasure all away Upon a counterfeit of royalty. That royalty despises in its heart — A foolish boy mad for a uniform Of scarlet — scarlet as the hue of shame That mantled honest faces when his act Of treason stirred the border ! Many a curse Lit on the act and actor, out of lips Thin drawn with bitterness ; and many a brow Knit hard, and many an eye flashed sullen fire ; And many a nail bit flesh of palm, as men I < A A . w 146 The Burgoyne Ballads. ■ if li\ Thought on his deed and its significance — The torture and the peril of the time, Chiefly endured because of treachery, Betrayals by false friends, who underground Set traps to catch their neighbors unawares. Invoking all the arms of foreign foes. Leagued with the hatchet and the incessant torch Of pitiless heathen for our overthrow. How we remembered all the suffering, The ceaseless roar of war waves round our shores, Breeding anxieties, reports extreme Of battle and disaster day by day. On sea and land, and all the multitude Of harrying disquiets poured upon us ! At home, the frequent midnight burnings, raids, And sudden slaughters, and a land laid waste, Fast slipping back to savagery, with life Cheapened to competition with the brutes, Our fellow-sufferers. And everywhere. Suspended over every household hearth. Forever in the trembling thoughts and dreams Of helpless grandsire, maiden, wife and babe. Scaring the dove of peace from every home. The fearful image of the tomahawk ! Was it so strange, remembering such things, A fire of hate should spring from this small spark Dropped on such fuel ! Then to think that one Who bartered honor for a piece of tape To wear upon his shoulder should have won And held so sweet a treasure, 'twas enough To roil men's thoughts, and stir their passions up To protestation — powerless enough, Because love makes a mockery of us all. But while they flung him hate and burning scorn As his right portion, still they loved the maid, Because she was so rare and beautiful. <".i The Burgoyne Ballads. 147 But by and by the morning ! 'Twas the pipe Of bird, I think, that first announced the dawn From some near tree — a sweet and slender strain, Inquisitive, as if the dear musician Were doubtful if he caught the scent of dawn. And hesitated in his song. But now Upon that note pipe after pipe broke forth In choral harmony from all the hill. Until a thousand joyous voices blent Were making fairy music to the dawn ! It ceased ; and then appeared a narrow line Of mellow light low on the eastern sky, Beyond the distant hill lines as they lay Crouched on the horizon, silent, saturnine. And then a deeper glow warmed the same hills, That rose, unmasked, and showed their visages Beaming with genial light. And the same splendor Made pale the lustre of the summer stars Sprinkled along the east, and sent the darkness, Broken and pierced with many a kindling shaft, In broad retreat, until the orient Shone with red glory, though the sun delayed. The heavens waxed warm and bright, but all the earth Slept, in that latter deep and dreamless slumber That aye precedes the waking. Silent all The endless forest lay, except perchance, Unceasing, as the sweet breeze played, arose The sigh and murmur of a million leaves Shaken o'erhead ; the hum of rushing waves ; And sounding on in endless monotone. The surge and rumble of the cataract Far northward. And below along the plain Reposed the fortress ramparts coiled in dusk. Girdled with scattered huts ; and on the right Beneath the walls the eager Hudson flowed, r I il "' r 148 2Vie Bnrgoyne Ballads. M; II, M/ ; Marching with all his thousands from the hills, With rustle and murmur of his million feet, Passing unseen beneath his cloud of mist That overhung him, seen for many a mile Tracking the forest with a trail of fleece. But brighter grew the red along the sky. And thinner grew the veil that wrapped the woods, As marched the light to westward o'er the world ; And then a bow of ruddy fire appeared, Crowning the far-off topmost eastern hill, And in a moment o'er the wilderness Broke the broad sun ! — a swimming fount of fire, Pouring its streams across the solitudes, Kindling the world to beauty with his blaze. His rays fired up the fog along the stream. And set the water sparkling, gilt the sands. Hung webs of yellow gauze about the hills, And woke the merry music of the birds In thicket deep and treetop everywhere. Oh, 'twas a sight worth one long watch to see. That world-old battle of the day with night. In which the day is glorious conqueror! And while I gazed, and silent blessed the light For all its bounteous life and cheerfulness, A lengthened drum-pulse throbbed along the plain, That chorured with my heart-pulse pleasantly. It ceased A wreath fantastic of fierce smoke . Rolled from the fort's low eastern parapet, And lo ! the fort spoke from her early gun. Telling the world of morning ! And the sound, Recoiling, passed, and fell among the hills Crashing; as when a storm cloud from the wes^ Opens its first hoarse volley o'er the hills That cracking rends the arches of the wo. ,, Making the heart leap up in bird and beast 7%« Burgoyne Balladt. 140 And man, and striking silent all the trees In all their leaves. And then in mimicry, A hundred echoes, seizing on the theme, Ran babbling it the forest arches through. Hither and thither flying through the wilds, With voices blowing ever faint and fainter. Far off and farther, dying on the wind That blew from out the solitudes. For me, Yet one long hour before relief would come. I leaned upon my weapon, looking down Upon the narrow vista of the plain, Where war had drawn a furrow of dark earth. And planted it with cannon. There had men Reared for themselves rude homes in which to dwell, And till their narrow strip of backward soil, And hunt and fish and barter, nestled there Beneath the fostering pinions of the fort ; Each cottage with its tributary lawn, Beds of rare roses, yellow marigolds. And lilacs shadowing doorways with their green Blossoms just fallen — haunts of friendly birds. That made their homes in summer 'mid the boughs. I saw the people stirring out of doors, About their morning tasks — a pleasant sight, As I remember how it moved me then — Some bringing wood to light their morning fires, And some with yoke and bucket, toilsomely. That brought fresh water from the river's brink ; Or driving forth their cattle 'mid the dew To some deep forest pasture out of sight. I saw the soldiers moving in the fort, A few from cabined quarters just emerged. Greeting the morning from the low dark walls ; i 150 The Purgoyne Ballads. tt ri!' r ^s ill I 1 '. urple pride and waving Hags To crush the weak and miserable few Who bore the burden of this mighty cause. And the freedom of our people on their swords. The red guard parted right and left, and we Filed in between them through the open door, My captive friend and I, and following still. Our foes, subdued and watchful. Then the guard W^heeled iiul marched off, a sergeant, proud and tall, Stepping ih stately motion in our rear. A low rucc room it was wherein we stood, Divided in the midst bv dropping w.ills Of painted cmtains, looped in heavy folds, Like l);\nners o'er an archway. v\ll the walls Were cedar beams yet shaggy with the bark Wherein they grew ; and for a floor our feet Stood ankle-deep in bearskins loosely laid Upon the bare and rugged earth beneath. Around the room were banners, weapons, chests l\' > I The Burgoyiie Ballads. 171 Carved, and with mighty clasps of brass thereon, Ancient, from over seas ; and everywhere The all select and choice appurtenance Of a great general's tent. There stood a desk, Whereat a pale clerk in half uniform Sat busy working at his documents. His head upon one side, with sidelong eye Upon the lines made by his running quill. He quit his task, half wheelitig in h':, seat, Eying us sharply; then smiled, half in scorn. At such extreme dejection. "Ah," he said, " Prisoners, I see ! Go, orderly, report Two prisoners to the general, and return." And turning to his documents again. Wrote on. And the j)roud sergeant at the door Stalked out, his sabre clanking as he went. Then passed a scene I never shall forget. The strangest scene, considering time and place. My eyes have ever seen. Entered the tent Two officers in royal uniform — One, middle-aged and careworn, moving slow; One, young, built like a j)rince, with Hashing eyes, And with the name and character complete Of soldier and brave man inscribed upon him — A fine, dark fellow. Then the elder jiaused. Scarce yet within the tent door, with his eyes Upon the wretched dame, and suddenly. With dubious voice, " Why, madam !" he exclaimed. And, "General !" she replied, distinct and short ; And flash upon that greeting there arose A storm of tongue ami tem|)er, unapjjroached In all my memory of wordy wars — The crown and flower of female raillerv, Saved by just rage from mere \ ulgarity h •i ' ] I •''I I) 11 a i.U ■i y }} ' ,:i 172 The Burgoyne Ballads. Detestable to see. Oh, it was rare, To see that haughty English general, Great lord of hosts, and conqueror of realms, Who never bowed before an enemy. Whipped in his tent by one wronged woman's tongue ! And that same woman his own cousin born — His kinswoman according to the flesh ; And more than that, in soul and sentiment, A partner in the cause for which he fought — A royalist as rank as ever breathed. A doting lion, hungering for prey, Had pounced upon and caught — a lioness ! And now, Sir Lion, look you out for claws ! Oh, and the claws were there ! And suddenly Unsheathed, made havoc more complete than swords Of twice a score of alien adversaries. Whom courage might o'ercomc. " Sir, stand and look ! This is a precious piece of gallantry, Right worthy of a Royal officer And gentleman !" 'Twas thus the gale begun, And waxed anon until it blew great guns. Drowning all opposition. " On my word !" " Upon the honor of a gentleman !" " Madam, I swear" — " Permit me, but a word !" " I never knew — indeed, how could I know ! — I beg you stop and let me say a word." Straws to the wind ! 'Twas wonderful to hear What gusts of words, what flashes scintillant Of keen sarcastic lightning, stormy bursts Of most authentic thunder, what keen thrusts Of deadly irony, dealt thick and fast. One following on another like a glance, Poured from the fiery heart and stormy lungs Of that great titaness ! And ended all With one great cry that filled the tent, and shrilled, 1 f 1.1 The Bur^ ;\ \ 6^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 I C/j 176 The Burgoyne Ballads. > ! HI And passed the tenn door, groaning as he passed, " Oh, my poor lost belovM ! my poor Jane!" And thus with feeble footsteps, stunned and blind, Tottering like age and palsy — piteously He passed from sight a broken, ruined man. And when we quit the tent at dusk that night, And passed into the moonlight, with the stars Above that dark and deadly wilderness Flashing their kindly beacons through the night, And the wind sighing mournful 'mid the tents, And the far panther screaming in the wilds — Upon the outmost edge of clustering tents. Where the black earth fell off to blacker depths Of dense morass and denser cedar shades, We saw against the red orb of the moon An unknown wandering figure cross our path, And seek the shelter of a neighboring tent. And as a wave of night-wind swept along We seemed to hear that cry disconsolate Pass on the night air^ piercing every soul — "Oh, my poor lost beloved ! my poor Jane !" THE END. JANE McCREA. By Lura a. Boies.* 'TwAS in the gorgeous summer time, The vesper bells with mellow chime Rang out the golden day. Along the distant mountain's height, And o'er the Hudson, flashing bright, In purple floods of dazzling light, The sunset glory lay ; * For sketch of Miss Boies, see note, ante. The Burgoyne Ballads. The crimson of the western fires Glowed redly on Fort Edward's spires, And deeper splendors burned, 'Till Earth, with all her lakes and rills, Her waving woods and towering hills. To burnished gold was turned. I had been listening to the chimes, And thinking of the stirring times, When hill and lonely glen 'Woke to the thunder tones of yore, The sounds that rolled from shore to shore. The deep-mouthed cannon's sullen roar. The tramp of mail-clad men ; I had been thinking of the days When the fierce battle's lurid blaze Hung like a fiery cloud O'er rock and river, wood and dell, Where now the radiant sunset fell And I had left the crowd. And sought, with hushed and reverent tread, That pleasant city of the dead. Where the wild wind-harps play. And pine trees wave and willows weep. Above her in her dreamless sleep. The hapless Jane McCrea. Silent, as if on holy ground, I neared that angel-guarded mound, Where white wings viewless wave ; An aged man, with hoary hair, And rude scars on his forehead bare, Was kneeling in the sunset there. Upon the maiden's grave. Was it some risen chief I saw. That o'er me came that breathless awe— y /( •^i^pr^ i^d I ! !)l Ml * 178 The Burgoyne Ballads. Was it some warrior bold ? Whose hand had grasped the ringing steel, Whose soul had thrilled to Freedom's peal, In the wild strife of old ? With sudden tears mine eyes grew dim, Nearer I drew and questioned him Of all the storied past ; Of the fierce days when roused our sires To the shrill trumpet's blast, And the red light of battle fires Upon our free hills lay ; I asked him of the green arcade, Where gleamed that savage chieftain's blade, I asked of her, the Scottish maid, The fated Jane McCrea ! Then did the veteran warrior speak. And down his pale and furrowed cheek The hot tears glistening ran ; Then with the old fire flashed his eye. His trembling tones rose clear and high, And thus his tale began. Part I. The booming guns of Lexington Had 'roused both gallant sire and son. And louder than the trumpet's clang The notes of wild alarum rang. The dawning light of Freedom's star Shone dimly in the skies afar. Where veiled in the black night of war The sun of peace went down. And by that faint and flickering glow The brave of heart and broad of brow > ?.i I I F^ *■■ mmsmm- W3**W>Wi^"3Bf5*!fS!ffi;:ge« ; i jm m^ m m BBasniBi^Kft'. The Burgoyne BaXlada. Had boldly sworn they would not bow 1 o England's regal crown. A thrill went through Columbia's soul An alien sound went o'er the sea, Majestic as an anthem's roll, The Declaration of the free I Earth s startled minions wondering heard Britannia, to her proud heart stirred, ' Hurl d back the bold, defiant word And drew ,n wrath her flaming sword • Fiercely the hostile nations met ' And yonder sun in darkness set' On many a fatal day • 'Vl-^i't"^^. ''■ ^^°°^ ^"d carnage din Mid hissing balls the gray-haired sire Fought with the youthful warrior's fire In many a deadly fray; Ih '""'S 'u^ 'f^ ^^^'^ fi^^O^ foru, \lfl^ ^^^ ^"''°"s battle storm When Burgoyne's haughty hosts Breaking the waves with mighty svve^p Came o'er the waters blue and deep And landed on our coasts. Clad in the battle's bright array. And flaming banners spread And arms that in the sunlight glanced 'w'^u'^? British ranks Id vanceS' With slow and measured tread • 1 hen rose a swift and rushing sound That woke the hills and shook the g ound Then freemen fought and fell. ' The redder gushed the crimson flood. Then was our land baptized in blood-- 179 // J^i ■ -i 11 ^«M 180 7%« Burgoyne Ballads. Of all the strife that followed then, That thrilled the hearts of mighty men, Ah me ! I may not tell ! The spirit of that warlike age I feel its fires within me rage, My bosom heaves, my old heart swells, I feel it now, the evening bells Ring out the dying day. I hear the sound of martial strains, I hear the war-horse neigh ; I see the smoke of battle plains. The swift blood courses through my veins, I plunge into the fray. I feel the scorching, burning blaze, I live again those stirring days. The days of Jane McCrea. Part II. 'Twas morning. — Rich and radiant dyes Flamed in the gorgeous orient skies ;^ Draped in the purple of his throne The royal sun resplendent shone. The broad, blue Hudson, blazing bright, Glowed like a line of liquid light, A wave of glory rippled o'er The hills along the eastern shore, And waving wood and fortress gray, Blushing in rosy splendor lay. Kissed by the red lips of the day. And glittering spear and lances' gleam Flashed back again the rising beam. On the broad lands beyond the wood, Now bright with' harvest sheaves. I ■■I wmm The Burgoyne Ballade. 181 The solid lines of Albion stood As thick as forest leaves ; Hot haste and consternation then Spread through the ranks of our bravest men, A clear blast rang throughout the glen, Louder than hunter's horn, And the quick tramp of hurrying feet, The drum's deep bass that rapid beat, The gathering din of swift retreat, Rose on the summer morn. From many a lowly woodland home Went up the cry " The foe ! they come !" And warm young hearts grew faint with fear, And little children clustered near, And blushing cheeks grew pale ; And many a form with noiseless glide Stole to the gallant warrior's side, And fluttering garments, white and fair, Were blent, in strange confusion there, With coats of burnished mail. Aside, that morn, from all the crowd, In earnest thought her young head bowed, The Scottish maiden stood, With downcast face and lips apart, A new joy thrilling in her heart, That gave her cheeks a warmer glow. And brought unto its stainless snow The quick o'ermantling blood. Thus stood she bound as by a spell. Oh, in that hour how wondrous fair ' Around her like a glory fell The rich veil of her raven hair. The fearless spirit throbbing high Lit up her clear, calm hazel eye, y /i 182 The Burgoyne Ballads. ; s.. f'l? "<>. And lent the face bowed meekly there A beauty such as angels wear. Oh, human love ! what strange divine, What strange mysterious power is thine ; It was thy light that inward shone And bound her in its radiant zone ; It was thy low, melodious lay That charmed her soul from earth away, Till mindless of the outward din She only heard the voice within, And listened to the silver tone. That whispered of the chosen one To whom her plighted troth was given, Who filled her deepest heart with heaven ! By thee, a willing captive led. The maiden knew no secret dread. Nor felt a boding fear; Nor heard the Indian's stealthy tread, Nor saw the danger near. A sudden shriek, a piercing cry. That seemed to rend the bending sky. Went up that morn so shrill and high, It made the sternest soldier start, And chilled and froze the circling blood, And sent it curdling to his heart, That still with terror stood ; Then rose a wild demoniac yell, A sound our brave men knew too well! Each soul had felt the sickening fear, Each hand had grasped the gleaming spear, When on the air, distinct and clear. The tramp of falling hoof drew near, The Burgoyne Ballads. 183 And with thin nostrils spreading wide, The ringing spur plunged in his side, With headlong fury rushing fast, A foaming courser darted past. Ha ! 'twas the chieftain held the rein And goaded on the steed amain, And one, a gentle girl, was there, With hazel eyes and flowing hair ; Grasped in his sinewy arm, and press'd Rudely upon his brawny chest. The frail form helpless lay. Alas ! for thee, thou captured maid. Oh, that some hand thy doom had stayed. Thou fated Jane McCrea ! A voice went up from mighty men, A loud and stirring cry. And the bold warrior shouted then, " Mount ! to the rescue fly!" They rose, a brave and gallant few. And o'er the ground the swift steeds flew, Winged with the lightning's speed ; Till in that green and shady dell. Where the clear waters sparkling well. Where towers the tall and stately pine. And the light falls with softer shine. The savage gave a fiercer yell. And reined his panting steed. Forth from the leafy woodland shades Leaped many a painted warrior's form, And brightly glanced their murderous blades, And wildly rose the battle's storm. Hot balls hissed through the summer sheen. And haughty plumes and crests bent low ; v^ /i 184 the Burgoyne Ballads. I ' \\ Then darker grew the fearful scene, And waves of blood surged to and fro. Before the shower of fiery hail, The chieftain saw his numbers fall ; With ire his swarthy cheeks grew pale. And turning from the fell strife there, He stood by her, the Scottish maid. He seized her long and flowing hair. And o'er her gleamed his naked blade ; And reeking from the tide of life. Back flashed the long and glittering knife ; A fiendish sneer upon his lip, A strange wild triumph in his eye, The chieftain saw the red blood drip. And held the ghastly trophy high ; Then round him drew his blanket-plaid, And plunged into the forest shade. The strong, stern man — the warrior true — Felt in his eye the gathering dew. When with hushed tread he nearer drew. To the still form beneath the pine — The maiden on the dewy green ; For ne'er did morning sunlight shine Upon a stranger, sadder scene. The warm bright life-tide's crimson flow Dyed deep her graceful garment's snow And mingled with the waters clear. That in the glad light sparkled near. The heart that thrilled to love before, To love's soft strain would thrill no more ; The light of her young life had fled. Too well they knew that she was dead ; Yet better far thus to have died Than to have been a Tory's bride. ■Htll I The Burgoyne Ballads. Now oft besides that cooling spring, The little children play and sing, And in that sylvan dell Full many a form of maiden grace Treads lightly o'er the hallowed place Where she, the fated, fell. On Saratoga's battle plains, Where low the British standard lay 1 he murdered maiden's gory stains. In British blood were washed away 1 he glory of that triumph day Avenged the death of Jane McCrea. The old man paused; the trembling tones That woke the bright unconscious teir. ^ad as the low wind's music moans. Died on my rapt and listening'ear. 1 hen m the solemn evening time When vesper bells had ceased to chime. And all the quiet air Was hushed, as if this world of ours Had closer clasped the trees and flowers And whispered peace through all her bowers And bowed her heart in prayer ; A hush upon my reverent soul, An awe that o'er my being stole, Mournful I turned away. And left the worn old soldier there, His white locks streaming in the air. The dew upon his forehead bare, And left the consecrated ground Where holy memories clustered round The grave of Jane McCrea. 185 Q 186 The Burgoyne Ballads. JANE McCREA. By Henry William Herbert.* It was brilliant autumn time — The most brilliant time of all, When the gorgeous woods are gleaming, Ere the leaves begin to fall ; * Henry William Herbert, author, born in London, England, April 7th, 1807; died in New York City- May 17th, 1858. His father. Rev. William Herbert, was a cousin of the Earl of Carnarvon, the nephew of Lady Harriet Ackland, the heroine, together with Mrs. General Riedesel, of " Burgoyne's Campaign." (See Stone's " Burgoyne's Campaign.") He graduated at Oxford in 1829 with high honors; but having, through the dishonesty of a trustee, lost his property, he came the following year to the United States, sup- porting himself for several years by teaching Greek and Latin in Newark and New York. Meanwhile, he added to his income by literary work for the differ- ent magazines and newspapers, and finally attained to a high degree of distinction as a writer. He wrote many novels and books on the game of the United States, under the nomde plume of Frank Forrester, all of which were highly praised by the literary critics. During the last twelve years of his life his home was near Belleville, N. J., and he lived here, like Charles Lee of Revolu- tionary fame, surrounded by his favorite dogs, of which he was especially fond. His end was particu- larly tragic, he having committed suicide by shooting himself, after a dinner to which he had invited his particular friends. A movement (1893) has been set on foot to erect a monument to his memory. At The Burgoyne BallutU. 187 When the maple boughs are crimson, And the hickory shines like gold, And the noons are sultry hot, And the nights are frosty cold. When the country has no green, Save the sword-grass by the rill, And the willows in the valley, And the pine upon the hill ; When the pippin leaves the bough, And the sumach's fruit is red. And the quail is piping loud From the buckwheat where he fed. When the sky is blue as steel, And the river clear as glass ; When the mist is on the mountain, And the net-work on the grass ; When the harvests all are housed. And the farmer's work is done, And the stubbles are deserted For the fox-hound and the gun. It was brilliant autumn time When the army of the north, With its cannon and dragoons. And its riflemen, came forth ; Through the country all abroad There was spread a mighty fear Of the Indians in the van, And the Hessians in the rear. present a plain stone marks his grave in the Mount Pleasant Cemetery, and on it is carved, according to his Wishes, the word Infelicissimus — a v rrd the signi- fication of which is a most sad commentary on his life. \^ \ ,h' p'\ Ife 188 T\e Burgoyne Ballads. There was spread a mighty terror, And the bravest souls were faint ; For the shaven chiefs were mustered, In their scalp-locks and their paint; And the forest was alive — And the tramp of warrior men Scared the eagle from his eyry, And the gray wolf from his den. For the bold Burgoyne was marching— With his thousands marching down, To do battle with the people — To do battle for the crown. But Stark he lay at Bennington, By the Hoosic's river bright, And Arnold and his forces Gathered thick on Bemis' height.* Fort Edward on the Hudson, It was guarded night and day. By Van Vechten and his woodmen — Bright sturdy woodmen they ! Fort Edward on the Hudson, It was guarded day and night, Oh ! but in the early morning It saw a bitter sight ! A bitter sight, and fearful. And a shameful deed of blood! All the plain was cleared around, But the slopes were thick with wood ; And a mighty pine stood there. On the summit of the hill, * For the correct spelling of the name of Bemis, see Appendix No. III. Bi H^i \r The Burgoyne Ballads. 180 And a bright spring rose beneath it, With a low and liqu'd trill ; And a little way below, All with vine boughs overrun, A white-walled cot was sleeping — There that shameful deed was done ! Oh ! it was the blithest morning In the brilliant autumn time ; The sun shone never brighter. When the year was in its prime. But a maiden fair was weeping In that cottage day by day, Woe she was and worn with watching For her true love far away. He was bearing noble arms, Noble arms for England's king ! She was watching, sad and tearful, Near the pine tree, near the spring !* Weary waiting for his coming — Yet she feared not ; for she knew C\l * Until 1855 there stood a clump of primeval giant pines on the rise of a knoll just at the left of the highway leading from Fort Edward to Sandy Hill, N. Y., from the roots of which issued an unfailing spring. By indisputable and unvaried tradition underneath these pines the hapless Jane McCrea was massacred. About this time Mr. George Harvey, the then owner of this classic site, caused the last surviving pine to be turned into canes, as souvenirs of this incident in the Burgoyne campaign. 190 The Burgoyne Ballads. That her lover's name would guard her, That her lover's heart was true. True he was ; nor did forget, As he marched the wildwoods through, Her to whom his troth was plighted By the Hudson's waters blue* \\\ ''I? H * Mrs. Rachael Ayrs Cook, widow of Ransom Cook, who died at her home in Saratoga aged ninety- two years, was one of the last surviving links that bound the present with what was one of the most romantic and decisive incidents of the American Revo- lution. She was the daughter of Robert Ayrs, a Loy- alist settler in what is now the town of Saratoga Springs, about midway between this village and Ball- ston. It was her father, Robert Ayrs, who carried the message to Jennie McCrea in Fort Edward from her Loyalist lover. Lieutenant David Jones, in Burgoyne's army, encamped on the highlands to the north, re- questing her to join him in the camp. It was while Jennie was on her way to meet her lover that she was tomahawked and scalped by the savage Iroquois chief Le Loup, and that event led many of the Loyalist set- tlers, including Robert Ayrs himself, to join the patriot army under General Gates at Bemis Heights, and materially aided in the defeat of Burgoyne. Robert Ayrs continued to reside until his death on the farm where his daughter, Mrs. Cook (who was the last sur* vivor of his family), was born, and he is buried in the old village cemetery at Ballston Spa. Her husband, Ransom Cook, was the builder and first agent and warden of the State prison at Dannemora. He was also the inventor of the brace and bit, which brought him and the family a large fortune. dtt laHfittiBi The Burgoyne Ballads. He bethought him of the madness And the fury of the strife ; He bethought him of the peril To that dear and precious life, So he called an Indian chief, In his paint and war-array — Oh ! it was a cursed thought, And it was a luckless day. "]Go!" he said, "and seek my lady, By Fort Edward, where she lies; Have her hither to the camp ! She shall prove a worthy prize !" And he charged him with a letter. With a letter to his dear, Bidding her to follow freely. And that she should nothing fear Lightly, brightly, rose the sun ; High his heart, and full of mirth ; Gray and gloomy closed the night ; Steamy mists bedewed the earth. Thence he never ceased to sorrow. Till his tedious life was o'er — For that night he thought to see her ; But he never saw her more. By the pine tree on the hill. Armed men were at their post. While the early sun was low, Watching for the royal host. Came a rifle's sudden crack ! Rose a wild and fearful yell ! Rushed the Indians from the brake ! Fled the guard, or fought and fell ! 191 \1 i! 1 ■ , t' 192 The Burgoyne Ballads. Fought and fell ! and fiercely o'er them Rose the hideous death hallo ! One alone was spared of all — Wounded he, and pinioned too ! He it was the deed that saw, As he lay the spring beside — Had his manly arms been free. He had saved her, or had died ! Up the hill he saw them lead her, And she followed free from fear — And her beauty blazed the brighter, As she deemed her lover near — He could read the joyous hope Sparkling in her sunny eyes — Lo ! the sudden strife ! the rage ! They are battling for the prize ! Guns are brandished — knives are drawn ! Flashed the death-shot, flew the ball ! By the chief who should have saved her, Did the lovely victim fall. Fell, and breathed her lover's name, Blessed him with her latest sigh, Happier than he surviving, Happier was she to die. Then the frantic savage seized her By the long and flow" '^air. Bared the keen and dei *; «.nife. Whirled aloft the tresses fair — Yelled in triumph and retreated, Bearing off" that t ophy dread — Think of him who ^ent them forth ! Who received it — reeking red ! ssswfBP^srr'.! T?ie Burgoyne Ballads. He received it, cold as stone, With a ghastly, stupid stare, Shook not, sighed not, questioned not- Oh ! he knew that yellow hair ! And he never smiled again. Nor was ever seen to weep ; And he never spoke to name her, Save when muttering in his sleep ! Yet he did his duty well. With a chill and cheerless heart ; But he never seemed to know it, Though he played a soldier's part. Years he lived— for grief kills not— But his very life was dead ; Scarcely died he any more When the clay was o'er his head ! Would ye further learn of her ? Visit then the fatal spot ! There no monument they raised, Storied stones they sculptured not ; But the mighty pine is there — Go, and ye may see it still, Gray and ghostly, but erect. On the summit of the hill ; And the little fount wells out, Cold and clear beneath its shade, Cold and clear as when beside it Fell that young and lovely maid. These shall witness for the tale. How, on that accursed day, Beauty, innocence, and youth Died in hapless Jane McCrea. 193 \1 "'*^*'''''^'''*^=»'*^ 194 The Burgoyne Ballads. m REFLECTIONS AT THE GRAVE OF JANE McCREA* And thus it is, The bright and beautiful, and wise. The puling youngster, and the gray-haired sage, Manhood and youth, and infancy and age. Alike yield up their struggling, passing breath — Alike are subject to the grim fiend Death. Alike, yet not alike, For I wist not, that it is death to strike The sudden blow, beneath some summer flower. And then transplant it into soil more pure. That it may waste its fragrant sweetness where More rare exotics bloom and scent the air. A lowly mound, But marked from those that's gathered round, By slab unstoried all, and neither tells The name, nor worth, nor fame, of her that dwells Beneath the sod, within the grave's dark gloom, Our last-sought resting-place, and common doom. She fell by hands Of savage violence ; — the gleaming brands Of war were gathered far, and near around And seeking love she fell ; — the lover found Was Death ; and in one long embrace. With icy lips, he pressed her marble face. Fort Edward, Nov. 5, 1842. *The above lines were written for, and published in, the Saratoga Sentinel at the date herein named. The author is unknown. \\ I ' mmmmmmmm ^WPP^.^- Y- November 30th, 1823 ; the son of Rev. Elijah King, a Methodist clergyman, and a member of the old Genesee Conference. At the age of thirteen, for a few months in a dry goods store in Albany, he then rejoined the family, who "went west," as far as Girard, Erie County, Pa., where with an interval of a single term only in a select school' he was kept at the business of clerking in the villao-e store until the age of seventeen. At this period the desfre tor better educational advantages so inflamed him that he wrote to his parents an argument of four pages of toolscap, which quite convinced them that he must be permitted and encouraged to prepare for and o-q through college. The preparation was at once begSn at the Grand River Institute, Austinburgh, Ohio whither the family moved, to make for him a home The student, in 1843, entered Poultney Academy N. Y., then under Rev. Jesse T. Peck (now Bishop) to prepare for advanced standing in college. In 1844 admitted to the sophomore class in Wesleyan Univer- sity, he took rank among the foremost of his class de- spite the fact that he had to be absent each winter in the Grammar School of Glastenbury, which he taught In his senior year he was elected to the Phi Beta n i 106 The Burgoyne Ballade. Love well befits the poet's lofty rhyme, No fairer blossom on the trees of Time. Kappa, graduating from Wesleyan in 1847, in the class which produced Orange Judd, Senator Cole, of California, and Bishop Andrews. In 1848 he was made principal of the seminary at Newbury, Vt. Though among his predecessors had been such men as Rev. Doctors Hinman, Adams and Hoyt, and Bishop Osman C. Baker, yet during the reign of Professor King this seminary enjoyed its highest intellectual and financial prosperity. He paid its debts, reconstructed its chapel and class-rooms, built its public fountain, and brought the roll of its adult students up to 325 in attendance at the time of his retiring in November, 1853. Accepting a call to his native State, he assumed the principalship of Fort Plain Seminary, N. Y., and in November, 1853, five days after his term closed at New- bury, he opened its first term — all its rooms filled with students. During this year at Fort Plain, beside the lecturing of his position, his register shows that he preached 59 times in 23 different pulpits. It being in contemplation to erect at Fort Edward an institution on a grander scale than any existing boarding seminary, the principal of Fort Plain Semi- nary was invited to visit the town, with a view to give his advice in the proposed enterprise. In connection with Rev. Henry B. Taylor he matured the plans, as- sisted at the laying of the corner-stone in May, 1854, and was induced to assume the principalship of Fort Ed- ward Institute for a term of loyears. December 7, 1854, he opened the first term with 500 students in attend- ance, and during the 23 years of its subsequent history he has been its sole principal, registering over 10,000 ■ I The Burgoyne Ballads. Trampled and bruised, its fragrance yet appears Despite the havoc of a hundred years ! 197 different names, hailing from over 33 of the States of the Union. Many of his students have taken conspic- uous places among the successful men and women of this generation. Over 100 of his students joined in thevvar for maintaining the Union, of whom 18 gave their lives that the nation might not die. A few of his young men also fought on the Confederate side. He has sent out 165 clergymen of the various denomi- nations, of whom already 1 2 have become Doctors of Divinity. The lawyers and physicians have been almost as numerous. In 1862 Union College conferred the degree of D.D. upon Professor King, and in 1873 the Regents of the University of New York, in recognition of his efficiency as an educator, conferred upon him the degree of Ph.D. In the discharge of his duties as principal of Fort Edward Institute, he has lectured before the faculty and students over 300 times, and has found leisure to deliver outside the walls of the Institute 210 lectures and addresses, besides having preached 1032 sermons in 182 different pulpits. From the sessions of the conference of clergymen of which he is a member, he has never been absent for a day. In 1864 he was elected by his brethren a delegate to the General Conference of the M. E. Church at Philadelphia, having also enjoyed the honor of serving as a delegate to the General Conference of 1856, representing the Vermont Conference, from which he was transferred to the Troy Conference, on a vote of that conference requesting it. For two weeks he served as acting delegate in the General Conference at Chicago, in 1868. / 198 The Burgoyne Ballads. We greet with reverent tenderness to-day The fond and true, the martyr'd Jane McCrea. Behold the picture — blond and passing fair, With twenty summers in her golden hair, The winsome graces of old Scotia's blood Blooming afresh in her bright maidenhood. To see her was to love, and one that saw Deemed it no violence to Nature's law To woo and win her as his promised bride. Elect to him o'er all the world beside. Once he has been called upon to address the Alumni of his college, once to deliver the oration before the convention of Psi Upsilon — his college fraternity — and twice to deliver the annual poem at Psi Upsilon conventions. In 1867 he gave himself a special vacation of about three months abroad; again in 1889, chiefly in the British Isles, France and Belgium. By way of recreation from the severer routine of his educational and spiritual tasks, he enjoys helping with his presence and counsels the various institutions and corporations in which he takes an interest. Be- sides being a working trustee in Fort Edward Institute, he is also a trustee or a director in the following cor- porations: Wesleyan University, Syracuse Univer- sity, Round Lake Camp Meeting Association, Me- chanicville Academy, the Union Cemetery Associa- tion, the National Bank of Fort Edward, two banks in Iowa, and the Glens Falls Insurance Association. He aims to set the example to his young men of rarely being absent from the primary meetings of his political party, from the home councils of his church or the convocations of his fellow-workers in the cause of education. w^mn mmmmmmmm The Burgoyne Ballads. 199 What though the fates, unequal or malign, Had cast his lot within the 13ritish line ? Can love be gauged by rules of trade or war? Not Mercury or Mars is man's true ruling star; When Venus rises, turns each heart to her. Savage or saint, a willing worshipper. The patriot maiden pledged her willing troth To country and to lover — true to both — And felt no discord in her evening prayer That heaven the one might bless, the oihtx spare. Nor may we blame our heroine of yore, If not the less our cause, she loved her hero more. A message comes : " Why should this dreadful strife Rob me of mine ? Thou art my promised wife ? The guide is safe, thou'lt reach the camp ere night, Then I'll protec! thee in a husband's right." Between two camps, awaiting mortal strife. Why need she fear ? Love bears a charmed life. Coyly emerging from yon mansion's side. With springing step she joined the savage guide. Girt for the perils of the path she trod. In maiden innocence and faith in God. The breeze, fair girl, that fans your cheek to-day Toyed with her tresses on her blithesome way ; The bee saluted with his tiny horn, Waved in the noontide rays the tasselled corn ; The flowers grew brighter underneath her tread. Bluer the arching sky above her head. The hill was gained. Sudden, the startled guide Clutched at the girl, now trembling at his side. A skirmish rages from the opposing lines. And maddened chiefs contend beneath the pines. In vain she seeks to flee ! A fatal blow Pierces her brain. And then the fiendish foe, 4} \ ''i ■ M : V 200 The Burgoyne Ballads t '' I ' i I !;^ As sinks the wretched maiden limp and dead, Tears off the golden glory from her fallen head ! A thousand curses on that savage hate, To murder first, and then to mutilate ! Plead beauty, youth and innocence, that day, But plead in vain for hapless Jane McCrea. The ruthless fiend, his task yet incomplete, Dashed down the bloody trophy at her lover's feet. Unpitying Indian! Heaven shall pay thee back. Its heavy vengeance marks henceforth thy track. Pushed ever towards the still receding west Thy wasting tribes shall plead in vain for rest. For her, what heart withholds a votive sigh ? Poor trampled ilower that in the dust doth lie ! Denied her woman's rightful place in life, To rule her home, a proud and happy wife. Yet Heaven doth martyred innocence befriend. And in her fadeless fame a compensation send. How many gallant youths rushed forth to join The patriot ranks, and crush the proud Burgoyne ! Ten thousand men, at Saratoga's day, Struck home for "liberty and Jane McCrea." Had love coursed smoothly o'er life's pebble stones, Long since forgot, as ''Mrs. David Jones " Forgot, with every other humble name. That time erases from the lists of fame. Now, all the world beholds, serene and fair, 'Graved in the azure of the upper air. And reads in capitals of flame to-day One only name, the gentle Jane McCrea. And David Jones, forsooth, despite his British pride, Gains fadeless laureh- through his Yankee bride. They're gone ! all gone ! in vain we search around Where armies trampled this historic ground ; / ( The Burgoyne Ballads. 201 Fields rent and scarred by war retain no trace, Which Time's all-lev'ling touch cannot efface. Of yonder fort, which saw a nation's birth. Remains alone a ridge of common earth. Still flows the rippling river to the sea, The type of loving woman's constancy ; And on its banks do other forts arise, Churches and schools, the States' best armories. Nigh to our martyrs' monumental stone Is ''trysting tree" to village youths well known ; 'Tis there, when lovers plight their sacred troth. Her guardian presence comes to bless them both. The hillside pines which saw her fall that day Themselves have fallen, victims of decay ; But from their roots there flows a living spring. Whose clear, cool waters, gently murmuring In sweet and mournful cadence, seem to say. Here fell the fair and fond but hapless Jane McCrea. THE TRAGICAL DEATH OF MISS JANE McCREA, Who was scalped and inhumanly butchered by a scout- ing party of Burgoyne' s artny on his way toward Albany, By Rev. Wheeler Case. As I was passing thro* a certain wood I heard a doleful noise ; surpris'd I stood — I lent a list'ning ear — but oh, what moans ! The woods all rang with shrieks and dying groans. Upon a rising ground I cast my eye And saw a scouting party passing by, Some British troops, combined with Indian bands, With swords, with knives and tom'hawks in their hands. vl l'^ '■ ,1'. IM I! 202 The Burgoyne Ballads. They gave a shout and pass'd along the road, Like beasts of prey in quest of human blood. I mov'd along where I had heard the cries, And lo ! a bloody scene salutes my eyes ; Here lies an aged man, roll'd in his gore, And from his hoary head his scalp is tore. There lies a woman dead, all gashed her face, A sucking babe just dropp'd from her embrace. There lies the slaughter'd infant on a clod. Its head all bruis'd and face besmear'd with blood. As I advanc'd along, before me lay A lady richly dress'd, her name McCrea ; Stretch'd on the ground, and struggling there with death. She cannot live, she must resign her breath. The cursed Indian knife, the cruel blade, Had cut her scalp, they'd tore it from her head ; The blood is gushing forth from all her veins, With bitter groans and sighs she tells her pains. Is this that blooming fair, is this McCrea f This was appointed for her nuptial day. Instead of smiles, and a most brilliant bride. Her face besmear'd with blood, her raiment dyed. Instead of pleasure and transporting joys. There's naught but dying groans and bitter sighs ; For, overwhelm'd with grief, alas ! I faint ; It is too much for language e'er to paint. Would heav'n admit of tears her rev'rend sire* Would now look down and o'er her drop a tear ; A flood of tears down from his eyes would flow O'er his dear child, touch'd with her fatal woe. Methinks he now attempts to speak — too full. With sighs he tells the anguish of his soul. * The Rev. Mr. McCrea of New Jersey. ~- -ffl The Burgoyne Ballads. 203 In broken accents now I hear him say, Is this the plant I raised ? Is this McCrca ? Is this my Jenny roll'd in blood I see, Whom I caress'd and dandled on my knee ? If e'er she was in pain I felt the smart, If but her finger ach'd, it pained my heart, But now she's mangled with the Indian knife, With groans and sighs she's breathing out her life. Oh, cruel savages ! what hearts of steel ! Oh, cruel Britons who no pity feel ! Where did they get the knife, the cruel blade ? From Britain it was sent where it was made. The tom'hawk and the murdering knife were sent To barb'rous savages for this intent. Yes, they were sent e'en from the British throne. Is this for acts of duty I have done ? How oft have I address'd the throne of Grace For Britain's king and all his rising race ! How oft with tears, that God would be their friend. That peace and happiness might them attend ! No fiction this, the muse hath seen him stand With eyes erect, and with uplifted hands Within the sacred desk ; she'd heard him plead For Britain s king and all the royal seed ; How oft, with earnest cries and flowing tears, For blessings on the king and all his heirs. t % t. f ^ / JANE McCREA. By Joel Barlow.* One deed shall tell what fame great Albion draws From those auxiliars in her bar'brous cause — *Joel Barlow, author, born in Redding, Conn., March 24th, 1 754 ; died near Cracow, Poland, Dccem- ; ■ I : ''^^"^ 204 The Burgoyne Ballads. u \K\ H Lucinda's fate. The tale ye nations hear ; Eternal ages trace it with a tear. [In searching for her lover, who is designated by the name oi Heartly in the narrative, and from whom she has become separated, she strays into the woods, and he in turn begins a search for her.] He hurries to his tent ; oh, rage ! despair ! No glimpse, no tidings of the frantic fair ; Save that some car-men, as a-camp they drove, Had seen her coursing for the western grove. Faint with fatigue, and chok'd with burning thirst, Forth from his friends with bounding leap he burst, Vaults o'er the palisade, with eyes on flame. And fills the welkin with Lucinda's name. ber 24th, 181 2. Graduated from Yale in 1778, deliver- ing the commencement poem, " Prospect of Peace" (published in "American Poems," Litchfield, Conn., 1793). In 1787 he published at Hartford his epic poem, "The Vision of Columbus," which made him famous, and afterward his most popular poem, the " Hasty Pudding." He was United States Consul at Algiers in 1795. He resided afterward for eight years at Paris, living the life of a man of letters, and writing there his poem, " The Columbiad," and making extensive preparations for a history of the American Revolution and one work on the French Revolution. He was also, like Freneau, one of the most prolific and famous writers of the Revolutionary period. He introduces the subject of the Jane McCrea massacre as above, presenting Jane McCrea under the name of " Lucinda." In a note accompanying the poem, the author states that the tragical story of Miss McCrea is narrated almost literally. The Burgoyne Ballads. 205 The fair one, too, of every aid forlorn, Had raved and wandered, till officious morn Awaked the Mohawks from their short repose, To glean the plunder ere their comrades 'rose. Two Mohawks met the maid— historian, hold ! Alas ! that such a tale should e'er be told. She starts — with eyes upturn'd and fleeting breath. In their raised axes views her instant death. Her hair, half lost along the shrubs she passed. Rolls in loose tangles 'round her lovely waist ; Her kerchief torn betrays the globes of snow,' That heave responsive to her weight of woe. With calculating pause and demon grin They seize her hands, and through her face divine Drive the descending axe !— The shriek she sent Attained her lover's ear ; he thither bent With all the speed his wearied limbs could yield, Whirled his keen blade, and stretched upon the field The yelling fiends, who there disputing stood Her gory scalp, their horrid prize of blood 1 He sank, delirious on her lifeless clay. And passed in starts of sense, the dreadful day. * * * * LINES ON JANE McCREA. By Mrs. Sarah J. Hale.* Oh ! very beautiful was she, A loveliness most rare to see. J ! *Mrs. Sarah Josepha Hale, authoress, born in New- port, N. H., October 24th, 1788; died in Philadelphia 206 The Burgoyne Ballads. V \i ■ if I Her eyes were like the ethereal hue From Chimborazo's skyward view, When stars begin to tremble through, And not a vapor dims the blue ; And clustering curls of soft blonde hair* Around her throat and shoulders flow, Like morning light on mountain snow ; And face so delicately fair ! April 30th, 1879. She edited the Ladies' Magazine, in Boston, which she conducted till 1837. ^^ that year it was united with Godeys Ladys Book, pub- lished in Philadelphia, and Mrs. Hale became editor of that periodical, removing to that city in 1841. She was chiefly instrumental in raising funds to complete the Bunker Hill Monument, and also in bringing about the change of Thanksgiving Day from a State festival to a National one — President Lincoln being the first one to adopt her suggestion, in 1864. She is the author of many works and poems, among the latter of which are the well-known ones of " Mary's Lamb" and " It Snows." * Although Jenny's hair was said to have been " dark as a raven's wing," yet she has also been de- scribed by those who knew her as " a young woman of fine commanding form, rare beauty, delicate blonde complexion, and glossy, golden-brown hair of silken lustre and of unusual length." The weight of evidence and the probabilities, it must be said, are largely in favor of the description as above quoted. Nor must it be forgotten that Jenny was of pure Scotch blood, and the Scotch are noted the world over for their fair complexion, blue eyes, and light hair. Mrs. Hale is, therefore, probably entirely correct in describing her as a blonde. iOHM The Burgoyne Ballads. 207 Tvvas like a lily newly blown, Or like the breathing Parian stone, Softened by a heart within, Sending love-light through the skin ! Ay ! the soul's transparent vase Seemed that pure, pale, loving face. J 1 11 1 : J t ^ i- BALLADS ON THE BATTLE OF ORISEANY. 11 I, ORISKANY. By General J. Watts de Peyster* Old Seventeen hundred and Seventy-seven, Of Liberty's throes, was the crown and the leaven. Just a century since, August Sixth, was the day When Great Britain's control was first stricken away. Let us sing then the field where the Yeomen of York Met the Lion and Wolf on their slaughterous stalk ; When Oriskany's ripples were crimson'd with blood ; And when strife fratricidal polluted its flood. Oh, glorious collision, forever renowned ! While America lives should its praises resound, And stout Harkeimer's name be the theme of the song, Who with Mohawk's brave sons broke the strength of the strong. To relief of Fort Stanwix New Yorkers drew nigh. To succor stout Gansevoort, conquer or die ; And if unwise the counsels that brought on the fight, In the battle was shown that their hearts were all right. If their chief seemed so prudent that " subs" looked askance, Still one shout proved their feeling, their courage — " Advance !" Most unfortunate counsel ! The ambush was set, Leaving one passage in but none oui of the net, — Of outlets, not one, unless 'twas made by the sword, Through encompassing ranks of the pitiless horde. * For sketch of General de Peyster, see Appendix ■■■■",■■, "^"fT ,',>!■ Ill The Burgoyne Ballads. 209 Sure never was column so terribly caught, Nor ever has column more fearlessly fought : — Thus Harkeimer's Mohawkers made victory theirs, For St. Leger was foiled in spite of his snares. The loud braggarts who'd taunted Harkcimer so free, Ere the fight had begun, were from fight first to flee; While the stalwart old chief, who a father had proved, And his life offered up for the cause that he loved, 'Mid the war-whirl of Death still directed each move, 'Mid the rain from the clouds and from more fatal groove Of the deadlier rifle, — and object assured, To him Palm, both as victor and martyr, inured. Search the annals of War and examine with care If a parallel fight can discovered be, there, When eight hundred green soldiers beset in a wood Their assailants, as numerous, boldly withstood ; And while death sleeted in from environing screens Of the forest and underbrush, Indians and "Greens" 'Gainst the circle without, took to cover within, Formed a circle as deadly — which as it grew thin Into still smaller circles then broke, until each Presented a I'otmd that no foeman could breach, Neither boldest of savage nor disciplined troops: Thus they fought and they fell in heroical groups— But though falling still fighting they wrench'd from the foe The great object they marched to attain, and altho' The whole vale of the Mohawk was shrouded in woe, Fort Stanwix was saved by Oriskany's throe. No New Birth, no advance in the Progress of Man, Has occurred since the tale of his suft'rings began. Without anguish unspeakable, deluge of bloodT '^' h i \ jss^ssm '^-^ i 11 210 TTie Burgoyne Ballads. The Past's buried deep 'neath incarnadine flood. So, wlien, at Oriskany, slaughter had done Its fell work with the tomahawk, hunting-knife, gun ; From the earth soaked with blood, and the whirlwind of fire Rose the living's reward and the fallen's desire. Independence! For there on Oriskany's shore. Was fought out the death-wrestle deciding the war ! If our country is free and its flag, first displayed On the ramparts of Stanwix, in glories arrayed ; If the old " Thirteen Colonies" won the renown ''Sic semper tyrannis /" beat Tyranny down ; There, there, at Oriskany, the wedge first was driven. By which British invasion was splintered and riven, Though at Hoosic and " Saratog" the work was com- pleted. The end was made clear with St. Leger defeated ; Nor can boast be disproved, on Oriskany's shore' Was worked out the grim problem involved in the war. 3. PIc Sdjiadjt won 0n0kani|. By Gen. J. Watts db Pktster. 3n8 Seutfi^e flbctfcfet ccn 9K art e i8 1 6 b t. When through dense woods primeval bower'd, A perfect hail of bullets ehower'd, Where bold Thayendanega tower'd— Good old Harkeimer prov'd no coward, Commanding at Oriskany. True to his Teuton lineage, Foremost amidst the battle's rage, As bold in fight, in council sage, Most glorious as he quit the stage Of life, by the Oriskany. 3(18 but(^ keg UrnalfcS laub'jen (Sans Qlnft pranclnb jtugclregen fctang — Sffic X^a^cnbanega'S iRu^m etHang — 33a loatb au* J&arfeimcr ni(^t bang', 2)cm gflbwt Bon DriSfanp. Iteu bem tcutoniW=efcIcn SSIut Sctan tn bc8 ©cfcd^teS S!Butb# 3ni fflat^e tlug, im ffampf »ca mvXc, Unb rubmrctf^, ba e» enblid; tu^t S8om iSu-eite bet Orl8(an9. The Burgoyne Ballads. 211 Altho' he felt the mortal wound. Though fell In Bwathes his xoldicrs round, ProppVl 'gainst his Paddlf, on the proiinil, He calmly Bmok'd, gave roun»el Hound, 'Mid war-whirl at Oriekany. War never fiercer slpht has seen Than when Sir JohnHon'g cohort green Charg'd on the Mohawk Rangers keen : The Bole such strife Almanza* 'd been As that on the Orlskany. New York's bold yeomen. Watts at head, Breasted meet foes— New Yorkers bred, There, eye to eye, they fought, stabb'd, bled, BoEom to bosom strove, fell dead In ambush of Orlskany. Alone can Berwick's shudder tell, What fury rul'd that moment fell When Frenchman's steel hiss'd French- man's knell : Horrent made the sole parallel To battle of Orlskany. Teeth with like frantic fnry set. There Frank died on Frank's bayonet- Here neighbor death from neighbor met,— With kindred blood both fields were wet, Almanza and Orlskany. And, ceas'd the storm whose rage had vien um 3a^n, gtei* jotnentbtannt, ®er Stanjmann patb bur* ftlnff^e ftanb, Der iKa*6ar fiel, wo SHa^bar ftanb, Unb SBrubetMut burdjnilt ben Sanb, iSlmanja unb DrtSfanp. Unb al8 beS StutmeS Jcben tu^it, Der a3tub«rmotb entfa^t mit aSut^, Sag SDJel^aaf IbaleS ©tclj tm SBIut, ISi^t tete fie fo*ten, flart unb gut, S&nge bem totl^tn Orlgtani?. Ob flclnem tnatb beS SlegeS 3lel 3m wlttcn SlampfeS ©^auetfplel, Tier gretftelt glamme, ble eerficl, (Stflanb unb ma*te ru^mrei* elel Ten SRamen son DtiSfanp, !' I *, • CDle @*Ia*t Bcn Sllmanja, auf »el*e blcr Sejug genommen mlrb, fanb 1707 jmlftben ben IruppenSubmlgg XIV. unlet bem gtaufamcn §et8cg eon Setml* gegen ble (Samlfatben unlet uabaliet fiatt. rial I i HI' { I BALLADS ON THE BATTLE OF ORISKANY. PiEAN TO ORISKANY. By Rev. Charles Downes Helmer, D.D. Beleaguered men of Stanwix, brave as those Who faced a million of their foes At old Thermopylae ; Good cheer to you upon the wild frontier! For citizens in arms draw near Across Oriskany. But hark ! amidst the forest shades the crash Of arms, the savage yell — with flash Of gory tomahawk ; For Johnson's Royal-Greens, and Leger's men, And Brant's Red Fiends, are in that glen Of dark Oriskany. From down the valley, where the Mohawk flows. Were hurrying on to meet their foes The patriot yeomanry ; For Gansevoort within his fortress lay, In peril and besieged that day, Beyond Oriskany. As men who fight for home and child and wife, As men oblivious of life In holy martyrdom, The Burgoyne Ballads. 213 The Yeomen of the Valley fought that day, Throughout thy fierce and deadly fray — Blood-red Oriskany. From rock and tree and clump of twisted brush The hissing gusts of battle rush — Hot breathed and horrible ! The roar, and smoke, like mist on stormy seas, Sweep through thy splintered trees — Hard-fought Oriskany. Heroes are born in such a chosen hour; From common men they rise and tower, Like thee, brave Herkimer ! Who wounded, steedless, still beside the beech Cheered on thy men, with sword and speech. In grim Oriskany. Now burst the clouds above the battle roar, And from the pitying skies down pour Swift floods tumultuous ; Then fires of strife unquenched flame out again, Drenching with hot and bloody rain Thy soil, Oriskany. But ere the sun went toward the tardy night. The valley then beheld the light Of freedom's victory ; And wooded Tryon snatched from British arms The empire of a million farms — On bright Oriskany. The guns of Stanwix thundered to the skies ; The rescued wilderness replies ; Forth dash the garrison ! And routed Tories, with their savage aids, Sink reddening through the sullied shades — From lost Oriskany. VII ■41 '\ \: n. n . !■) It n s. 214 The Burgoyne Ballads. Behold, Burgoyne! with hot and hating eyes, The New World's flag at last o'erflies Your ancient Heraldry; For over Stanwix floats triumphantly The rising Banner of the Free — Beyond Oriskany. A hundred years have passed since then ; And hosts now rally there again — lb crown the century ; The proud posterity of noble men Who conquered in the bloody glen Of farned Oriskany. ¥. w ..t?aM i> T"* f I i i, BALLADS ON THE BATTLE OF BENNINGTON. ODE ON THE BATTLE OF BENNINGTON. By Rev. E. H. Chapin, D.D.* They came, as brave men ever come. To stand, to fight, to die ; * Rev. Edwin Hubbell Chapin, a distinguished Universalist clerjjyman of New York, and the pas- tor of Horace Greeley, was born at Union Village, Washington County, N. Y., and died in New York City, December 27th, 1880. He received his early training at the Bennington, Vt., Seminary, and after- ward studied law in Troy, N. Y. Subsequently he removed to Utica, and became editor of T/ie Magazine and Advocate, a periodical devoted to the interests of the Universalists. He afterward studied for the ministry, and was ordained in 1837, His first settlement was at Richmond, Va. ; and in 1848 he was installed as pastor in the Fourth Uni- versalist Church in New York City. Dr. Chapin was long one of the most prominent of metropolitan preachers, and his church soon became one of the most noted in the city, and to which " throngs of both church-goers and non-church-goers resorted whenever it was known that he would speak." He was also a very popular public lecturer, and his services were in .'U fl )!i;9- ! ) ^ssummm ■fl 216 The Burgoyne Ballads. No thoug^ht of fear was in the heart No quailing in the eye ; If the lip faltered, 'twas with prayer, Amid those gatherinp^ bands ; For the sure rifle kept its poise In strong, untrembling hands. They came up, at the battle-sound. To old Walloomsack's height ; Behind them were their fields of toil, With harvest promise white ; Before them those who sought to wrest Their hallowed birthright dear. While through their ranks went fearlessly Their leader's words of cheer. h i constant demand. As his biographer, in " Appleton's Biographical Cyclopccdia," justly says, " His denomi- national religious associations were with the Univer- salists, but his sympathies were of the broadest character, and he numbered among his personal friends many of the stanchest advocates of orthodoxy, who could not but admire his eloquence, however much they may have dissented from his religious teaching." In 1872 he succeeded Dr. Emerson in the editorship of the Christian Leader. He was quite a voluminous writer, and with James G. Adams as his associate, he compiled " Hymns for Christian Devotion" (1870). The above ode is selected from some sta.izas on the battle of Bennington in 1837, and delivered by him in the Old Academy in Bennington Centre. They were also published in Rev. Isaac Jennings's admirable work, " Memorials of a Century" (Boston, 1S69). The Burgoyne Ballads. 217 " My men, there are our freedom's foe, And shall they stand or fall ? Ye have your weapons in your hands. Ye know your duty all ; For we—this day we triumph o'er The minions of the crown, Or Molly Stark's a widowed one Ere yonder sun goes down." * One thought of heaven, one thougiit of home. One thought of hearth and shrine. Then, rock-like, stood they in their might Before the glittering line. A moment, and each keen eye paused The coming foe to mark. Then downward to his barrel glanced, And strife was wild and dark. It needs no monumental pile To tell each storied name, The fair green hills rise proudly up To consecrate their fame. True to its trust, Walloomsack long The record bright shall bear, Who came up at the battle sound And fought for freedom there. m vt \ * This is in allusion to the tradition that on the eve of the battle, just as the orders were given and the combatants were about to engage, General Stark, in his saddle, pomting in the direction of the enemv made this laconic address : " Boys, these are the Red-coats ; and they are ours, or this nkhit Molly Stark sleeps a widow !" ii I A 218 The Burgoyne Ballads. i I THE BATTLE OF BENNINGTON. By William Cullen Bryant.* {On the occasion of the centennial of the battle of B '"rton.) On this fair valley's grassy breas The calm, sweet rays of summer rest, And dove-like peace benignly broods On its smooth lawns and solemn woods. * William Cullen Bryant, distinguished journalist and poet, born in Cummington, Mass., November 3d, 1794; died in New York, June 12th, 1878. Of dis- tinguished colonial ancestry, he early developed poeti- cal power, and began at an early age to write short epic and satirical verses for the local newspapers and magazines, especially the Hampshire Gazette, although he was at the same time pursuing the study of the law. In his eighteenth year he composed his immortal poem " Thanatopsis," the inspiration of which was given him while wandering through the primeval forests of his native State. After being admitted to the bar, he removed to Great Barrington, Mass. He continued, however, his literary efforts, contrib- uting, meanwhile, to the North American Review, and in 1825 removed to New York City, becoming assistant editor of the New York Review and Athe- naeum Magazine. Finally he became the editor-in- chief, with a part ownership, of the New York Even- ing Post, with which influential newspaper he was iden- tified until his death. Although a bitter Democrat, yet upon the opening of the Civil War he laid all partisanship aside, and with true patriotism warmly espoused the cause of the United States. mmimmBmmt The Burgoym Ballads. A century since, in flame and smoke, The storm of battle o'er it broke, And ere the invader turned and fled. These pleasant fields were strewn with dead. Stark, quick to act and bold to dare. And Warner's mountain band were there • And Allen, who had flung the pen Aside to lead the Berkshire men. With fiery onset— blow on blow— They rushed upon the embattled foe," And swept his squadrons from the vale. Like leaves before the autumn gale. Oh, never may the purple stain Of combat blot these fields again, Nor this fair valley ever cease To wear the placid smile of peace ! Yet here, beside that battle-field. We plight the vow that, ere we yield The rights for which our fathers bled. Our blood shall steep the ground we tread. And men will hold the memory dear Of those who fought for freedom here, And grand the heritage they won While their green hill-sides feel the sun. THE BATTLE OF BENNINGTON. By Mrs. Julia Fay Waldenburg.* TwAS the eve of that glorious battle morn. On Vermon t's green mountains, in splendor born ! 11 ! ■ <• 1 inl All 'J- i : 4 'J iKVl * Julia Fay Waldenburg, daughter of George Barron hi i ! I. '! •i). 222 The Btirgoyne Ballads. Bright rose the morning's sun serene, No lingerings of the storm were seen. The meadow? wore a brighter green, The swollen river shone between, And proudly rose the mountains far, On nature' fac- ;o frown of war. Then lo ! From out the forests still, With stately march and sturdy will, The gallant columns moved apace, Toward the " Heights" looked every face ! They came fror> *": •^f'. from shop, from farm ; The "Parson," with ti'-' gospel arm Upraised, was ea^^' r tc ihe fight. Strong in his faith for Gon a:)d right. Ranger and voluiv?er, as c ■, Gathered beneath that .Ai%LT.t >';-- ; Ununiformed, untried, yet brave. They knew their power to fight and save ! The miry road they wound along. And every mile they grew more strong, 'Till soon the foe, with colors bright. Stood grouped before their waiting sight. Brave Stark commanding called aloud Unto his little army, proud, — "The red-coats! See! ! — We win this fight, Else Molly Stark this very night Must sleep a widow !" Then to view The foe's defences burst, clear through The stubborn outworks on they prest From northern wing, and from the west; While from the British breastworks poured The Hessian fire. The cannon roared ; The line it wavered, comrades fell, Still pushed they bravely on, and well, '^i] I --^^It » The Burgoyne Ballads. Heedless of hail from rattling shot Or blistered hand from rifle hot ; They rushed and leaped o'er parapet, And charged with butt and bayonet. Wearied and hungry, wounded sore. With throbbing brows and stained with gore They held their posts 'till the fight was done The foe was routed, the battle won. While the rays of the setting sun were shed er a smoking plain, with its pallid dead. And the twilight shadows reached down upon The victory field of Bennington ! In Paris proud, 'neath a golden dome. Where wandering pilgrims ever come ; 'Neath massive marble and sculptured stone Is gathered the dust of Napoleon ! There's a legend told that a mighty host. Shadowy, ghostly, to vision lost, Paces ever the tomb, before. In tattered garments streaked with gore • Who, pallid and wounded, keep watch and ward. 1 IS the band of the emperor's famous Guard ' They wait his rising who sleeps below, To follow his form through heat or snow, I ill he lead to glory and victory ; And they wait the day and hour to be ! No shadowy, ghostly guard have we Pacing before dead royalty ; But giant forms that to-day we see Uprise in their glorious history ! Oh ye with the clear-eyed sight of seers Who glanced o'er the wid'ning space of years And saw a form whose radiance bright Flooded the western world with light, . \ |4 224 The Burgoyne Ballads. Oh, soldiers brave of those mighty days, Whom we crown with a century's crown of bays, Keep ye your vigils over our land, O'er valley and mountain, river and strand ! In rain or sunshine, calm or storm, Guard ye this beauteous living form. Warm with the youth of her hundred years, With her pulsing heart and her shining tears, Oh, watch our Land in her strength and pride, Ye loved her fondly and for her died ! So lead her upward, thy guard ne'er cease 'Till she enter the endless years of Peace ! ODE ON THE VETERANS OF THE BATTLE OF BENNINGTON. By Mrs. Anna C. Botta.* Our patriot sires are gone ; The conqueror Death lays low * Mrs. Anna Charlotte (Lynch) Botta, authoress, born in Bennington, Vt, in 1820. Her father was a native of Dublin, Ireland, who at the age of sixteen joined the rebel forces under Lord Edward Fitzgerald. He was afterward banished to the United States, where he married. His daughter was educated in Albany, N. Y., and at an early age began writing for literary periodicals. Removing to Providence, R. I., she there edited the " Rhode Island Book" (Providence, 1841), containing selections from the authors of Rhode Island. Soon afterward she returned to New York, where she has since resided, and in 1855 niarried Professor Botta. Among her many works is a " Hand-book of Universal Literature" (New York, i860), containing concise ac- -"fi-y ,■»<** s^sTf- The Burgoyne Ballads. 225 Those veterans, one by one, Who braved each other foe ; Though on them rests Death's' sable pall, Yet o er their deeds no shade shall fall. No, ye of deathless fame ! Ye shall not sleep unsung, While Freedom hath a name, Or gratitude a tongue. Yet shall your names and deeds sublime Shme brighter through the mists of time. Oh, keep your armor bright. Sons of those mighty dead, And guard ye well the right For which such blood was shed ' Your starry flag should only wave O'er Freedom's home or o'er your grave. PARSON ALLEN'S RIDE.* Delivered at the Centennial Celebration of THE Battle of Bennington, August i6, 1877 BY Wallace BRucE.f '^^' The " Catamount Tavern";]: is lively to-nio-ht • here^'" ""^ ^^"""^'"^ ^"^ ^ew Hampshire are counts of great authors of all ages and their works which has been adopted as a text-book in many edu: cational institutions. Mrs. Botta's style is musical ^^^'"'f r^. A^"'^^'^' ^"^ ^^' sonnets are espec ally successful (" Appleton's Biographical Dictionary") ^ No. vill. ^ ""^ ^^''''" ^"'"' '"^ Appendix t Wallace Bruce, lecturer, born in Hillsdale, N. Y. 'A \\ n 226 The Burgoyne Ballads. 'I i 4 All drawn up in line in the lingering light To greet Parson Allen with shout and with cheer. Over mountain and valley from Pittsfield Green, Through the driving rain of that August day, The " flock" marched on with martial mien, And the Parson rode in his " one horse shay." " Three cheers for old Berkshire !" the General said, As the boys of New England drew up face to face, " Baum bids us a dinner to-morrow to spread. And the Parson is here to say us the grace." " The lads who are with me have come here to fight, And we know of no grace," was the Parson's reply, " Save the name of Jehovah, our Country and right. Which your own Ethan Allen pronounced at Fort Ti." " To-morrow," said Stark, " there'll be fighting to do If you think you can wait for the morning light. And, Parson, I'll conquer the British with you, Or my Molly* will sleep a widow at night." November loth, 1844. He graduated from Yale in 1867, and has lectured extensively before lyceums and associations on literary subjects, especially on Shake- speare, Scott, Burns, Irving, and Bryant. Among his works are " The Land of Burns," " Yosemite," " The Hudson," and "From the Hudson to the Yosemite." At present (1893) he holds the position of United States Consul to Edinburgh, Scotland. % For an account of the old Catamount Tavern, see Appendix No. IX. * Elizabeth was her name, but General Stark used " Molly" as a word of endearment. This Mr. Charles M. Bliss had on the authority of a granddaughter of The Burgoyne Ballads. 227 What the Parson dreamed in that Bennington camp, Neither Yankee nor Prophet would dare to guess ; A vision, perhaps, oi the King David stamp. With a mixture of Cromwell and good Queen Bess. But we know the result of that glorious day, And the victory won ere the night came down, How Warner charged in the bitter fray, With Rossiter and Hobart and old John Brown ! And how in a lull of the three hours' fight The Parson harangued the Tory line, As he stood on a stump, with hi;s musket bright, And sprinkled his text with the powder fine : " The sword of the Lord is our battle-cry ! — A refuge sure in the hour of need, And Freedom and Faith can never die, Is article first of the Puritan creed !" "■ Perhaps the occasion was rather rash," He remarked to his comrades after the rout, " For behind a bush I saw a flash. But I fired that way and put it out."* And many the sayings, eccentric and queer, Repeated and sung through the whole country side, And quoted in Berkshire for many a year. Of the Pittsfield march and the Parson's ride. General Stark who lived in the house with him, and who was eighteen years old when the general died. Another granddaughter explained it in the same way to Secretary William M. Evarts when he was at Ben- nington at the centennial of the battle in 1877. " Oh," said Evarts in reply, " he called her, then, Molly when he wished to mollify her !" * The firelock which Rev. Thomas Allen used : V •rl '•tafSBSt^ 228 The Burgoyne Ballads. Honor to Stark and his resolute men — To the Green Mountain Boys all honor and praise — While with shout and cheer we welcome again, The Parson who came in his one horse chaise* r HYMN ON THE i< I BATTLE TON. OF BENNING- By Mrs. Marie MAsoN.f {On the occasion of the centennial of the battle of Bennington.) One hundred years ! a nation's joys Resound along the prospered way That Stark and his Green Mountain Boys Made ours one hundred years to-day. God bless the standard of the free ! God bless this peaceful, happy land ! Our fathers' God ! we lift to Thee Our praise for gifts on every hand. for this confessed purpose was that of his brother Joseph, who stood near him, he not having taken one into the action. It is still preserved in Pittsfield by the descendants of Joseph. * Among the re-enforcements from Berkshire came a clergyman with a portion of his flock — the boys marching on foot and the parson driving through the muddy roads in his primitive chaise (" History of Berk- shire"). f Mrs. Mason, the wife of the distinguished musical composer of Boston, Mass., was herself a poetess of no mean rank. She is now dead. If;; The Burgoyne Ballads. And for our country's honored head * ' Our reverent lips ask this alone ; That Thou wilt guide his feet to tread In footprints of our Washington. Our counsellors with wisdom fill • Let parties die ; let factions cease ; Let all men seek with single will Our country's unity and peace. Then not in vain the patriot blood Was poured upon the crimsoned clay, When side by side our fathers stood One hundred years ago to-day. 229 THE BATTLE OF BENx\INGTON. AUGUST 1 6, 1777. By Rev, Thomas P. Rodman. Up through a cloudy sky the sun Was buffeting his way On such a noon as ushers in A sultry August day. Hot was the air— and hotter yet Men's thought within them grew • They Britons, Hessiatts, Tories, saw, They saw their homesteads too ! They thought of all their country's wrongs • They thought of noble lives ' Poured out in battle with their foes •— They thought upon their wives, M! * President Hayes was present on this occasion. II' |! u v> J 230 The Burgoyne Ballads. Their children and their aged sires, Their firesides, churches, God ! And these deep thoughts made hallowed ground Each foot of soil they trod. Their leader was a veteran man — A man of earnest will ; — His very presence was a host ; He'd fought at Bunker's Hill ! A living monument he stood Of stirring deeds of fame ; Of deeds that shed a fadeless light, Of his own deathless name ! Of Charlestown's flames, of Warren's blood. His presence told the tale ; It made each patriot's heart beat quick. Though lip and cheek grew pale ; It spoke of Princeton, Morristown ; — Told Trenton's thrilling story ; It lit futurity with hope. And on the past shed glory. Who were those men ? their leader, who } Where stood they on that morn ? The men were northern yeomanry, Brave men as e'er were born ; Who, in the reaper's merry row. Or warrior's rank could stand ; Right worthy such a noble troop — John Stark led on the band. Walloomsack* wanders by the spot Where they that morning, stood ; * For an able article, by Hon. S. D. Locke, of Hoosic Falls, N. Y., showing that the battle of Ben- Tlie Burgoyne Ballads. 231 Then rolled the war cloud o'er the stream, The waves were tinged with blood ; And the near hills that dark cloud girt, And fires like lightning flashed ; And shrieks and groans, like howling blasts, Rose as the bayonets clashed. The night before, the Yankee host Came gathering from afar, And in each belted bosom glowed The spirit of the war ! All full of fight, through rainy storm, Night cloudy, starless, dark — They came and gathered as they came, Around the valiant Stark ! There was a Berkshire parson* — he And all his flock were there, And like true churcJimen militant, The arm of flesh made bare. Out spoke the Dominie, and said : — " For battle have we come, These many times ; and after this. We mean to stay at home, " If now we come in vain" — Said Stark : *' What ! would you go to-night, To battle it with yonder troops ? God send us morning light. And we will give you work enough ; Let but the morning come, And if ye hear no voice of war, Go back and stay at home." nington should be called the battle of Walloomsack, see National Magazine for April, 1892. * Parson Allen. See poem aiite by Bruce. I 1 W iM I'- I* 1; . as^sam ^^^ .^- H i' t '1 ^li 1 I 'I) 232 The Burgoyne BaUad«. The morning came — there stood the foe ; — Stark eyed them as they stood ; Few words he spoke — 'twas not a time For moralizing mood ; " See there, the enemy, my boys — Now, strong in valor's might, Beat them, or Betty* Stark will sleep in widowhood to-night!" Each soldier there had left at home, A sweetheart, wife or mother ; A blooming sister, or perchance, A fair-haired, blue-eyed brother ; Each from a fireside came, and thoughts These simple words awoke. That nerved up every warrior's arm, And guided every stroke. Fireside and woman — mighty words ! How wond'rous is the spell They work upon the manly heart, Who knoweth not full well ? And then the women of this land. That never land hath known A truer, nobler hearted race. Each Yankee boy must own. Brief eloquence was Stark's — not vain ; Scarce uttered he the words, When burst the musket's rattling peal ; Out leaped the flashing swords. And when brave Stark in after time Told the proud tale of wonder, He said " the battle din was one Continual clap of thunder." * General Stark's wife's name was Elizabeth Page. ■ 'I I The Burgoyne Ballads. 233 Two hours they strove, when victory crowned The valiant Yankee boys ; Naught but the memory of the dead Bedimmed their glorious joys ! Ay^— there's the rub ; the hour of strife Though follow years of fame, Is still in mournful memory linked With some death-hallowed name. The cypress with the laurel twines— The Paean sounds a knell— The trophied column marks the spot Where friends and brothers fell ! Fame's mantle, a funeral pall Seems to the grief-dimmed eye ; For ever where the bravest fall, The best beloved die! ■11! N: I REMNANT OF AN OLD CONTEMPORARY. (Song about Bennington.) To take the stores and cattle That we had gathered then, Burgoyne sent a detachment Of fifteen hundred men. They came as brave men ever come, To stand, to fight, to die; No thought of fear was in their heart, No quailing in the eye; If the lip faltered, 'twas with prayer, Amid these gathering bands, For the sure rifle kept its poise In strong, untrembling hands. V ^i ^'U POEMS ON THE BATTLES OF SARATOGA. (September 19 and October 7, 1777.^ A STORY OF BEHMUS' HEIGHTS. (October 7, 1777.) (Written by E. W. B. Canning, a trustee of the Saratoga Monument Association, for the Springfield Republican, December 13th, 1885.) " Please tell us," said the boys who stood, With eyes brimful of fun, Beside their grandsire — " how you fought Red-coats at Bennington ; And Col. Cilley's battle-tug Over the twelve-pound gun." "You've got a little mixed, my boys, 'Twas not at Bennington, But Behmus'* Heights, where Cilley took And christened that big gun ; And I was there and helped hurrah, When the brave deed was done. " You see we'd been a fighting hard Through all the afternoon ; And 'mongst the trees a thousand balls Still sung their deadly tune ; And shot and shell knocked bark and boughs Over our whole platoon. * See Appendix No. X. for different spellings of this name. wmm mmmsas^m^SBga The Burgoyne Ballade. " We drove the red-coats rods away, And then they drove us back ; Briton and Yankee lay in scores Along the bloody track ; And neither side would bate a jot— 'Tvvas give and take the whack. " So back and forth the battle swayed, As ocean's surges sway ; And round that gun that stood between 1 he dead lay piled that day. Though captured oft, we had no time To pull the thing away. " Four times 'twas ours, and four times, too 1 hey drove us from our prize, Which made the sparks of anger flash From Cilley's gleaming eyes. ' The next time, boys, we'll hold it, or Beside it die' — he cries. " A rush, a shout, a volley's crash, And it was ours again ; And furious as a horde of wolves, We drove them down the glen.' Then on the war-dog Cilley sprang And waved his sword amain. "And cried aloud, 'To Liberty I dedicate the gun ! ' Then whirled it round and bade its charo-e Help Its late owners run. '^ We shouted it to camp, and thus Was the twelve-pounder won." 235 I Tf 236 Ttie Burgoyne Ballads. 4, POEM BY PROFESSOR ROBERT T. S. LOWELL* On the Occasion of the Centennial of the Bat- tle OF Bemus Heights, September 19, 1777. Prelude. As while about some restful, wide-shored bay, All hid in fog, landward and seaward lay. Came far-heard voices forth, from men unseen. Or low of herd, or roll of slow-worked oar, Heard here and there, throughout that floating screen, Made us no longer lonely, as before ; Nay, as might chance, the eyes, long-straining, wist Where shapes walked, great and dim, within the mist. So, we may think, with former men, that by This life's wide shore in memory are nigh. But hidden deep in folding mists of Past ; Still may the stronger eye, the finer ear. Find, through the floating clouds about them cast, The men that did their work and left it here, The past that lived is but a little far Within this self-same life wherein we are. * Robert Traill Spence Lowell, clergyman, was born in Boston, Mass., October 8th, 1816. He was at Round Hill School, Northampton, Mass., in 1823-28, under Joseph G. Copwell and George Bancroft, and graduated from Harvard in 1833. In 1873 he became professor of the Latin language and literature in Union College, Schenectady, discharging the duties of that department for six years. He was quite a vo- luminous author, and was a frequent contributor in both verse and prose to reviews, magazines, and literary journals. He died September 12th, 1891. The Burgoyne Ballads. 237 BURGOYNE'S MARCH. To the drums' echoing beat, And thrilling clarion's cry — England's red banner as a sheet Of flame against the sky — With the strong tread of soldiers' feet Burgoyne's good host went by, The gleaming bayonets flashed pride in every eye. A hundred golden summer suns Have filled our fields with June Whose morn and noon and twilight runs Each to its end too soon. Since, basking in the wealth of day, Saint John's broad fort and village lay. While through the streets, and from the fort, Company, regiment, brigade. Were marched as for a last parade, Crowding the sunny port. The town all thronged the beach ; No work was then, for far or near : No work, unless to see or hear. And little speech, but cheer on cheer ; Or, here and there, beyond the common reach. Some prayer, some sobbing speech ; But shout and martial strain Make the banks ring again, As the men took ship, to sail up Lake Champlain. The general had stood awhile Within the maple's shade, With quickening eye and lofty smile ; Since the dread game of war was played Were never better soldiers made. To conquer for the world-conquering Isle ; V. B I- i m It r' ! f " 1 238 The Burgoyne Ballads. To win back, for the English Crown, Before which, fate, the might of France went down, Fortress and farm and town, Along the lakes, and rich Mohawk Vale, To the old solid town that stands Embosomed in fair lands, And rich with many a peaceful sail. Fort William — Beaverwick — the good town, Albany ; While Howe, or Clinton, from the sea. Should set the river-country free From a base rule by countryman and clown. Then would a loyal wall keep wide The rebel lands that lay on either side, Till more calm time and wiser thought Should bring all mad revolt to naught ; And the great realm that rounds the world and ever fronts the sun, Once more, from shore to answering shore, By land, by sea, one realm should be ; Unbroken, as it was of yore. Throughout all earth but one. Strange, one might think, breathing June's happy breath. Hearing glad melodies in all the air, Seeing the red and gold that brightened everywhere ; Strange that all these, so merry and so fair. Should deck the trade of death ! As well the clouds of sunset heaped, All tinged with red and gold. The while the nightfall cricket cheeped, Might into sudden storm have leaped, And wreck and ruin manifold. With thunderbolt of fabled Thor, As this become death-dealing war ! The Burgoyne Ballads. 239 It would but be a month's parade; The rebel fort would yield at call, To earth the rebel flag would fall ; The king would be obeyed. To sweep, with summer breeze, the lake, In the night wind a bivouac make. Beneath the starry arch ; To scout, in underwood and brake, Would be a pleasure-march ! So, to an English eye, our country's cause would fail (The hurried ending of a tale Told overnight), When brave Burgoyne set sail. Our countrymen that season lay As men that wake in night but fear the day. The leaguer-fires of Bunker Hill Were yet scarce trodden out ; and still There were true men, whose steadfast will Set all it had at stake ; Would never bow to might or ill ; Rather their country's soil would fill With clay of heroes' make. St. Clair and Schuyler had trod back The long road of retreat ; The foe was heard upon their track, And, foot by foot — as waters roll — So, following foot by foot, he stole Their country from beneath their feet. Crown Point, Ticonderoga, fell ; Fort George, Fort Edward — need we tell Stout Warner's gloomy overthrow ? Or the great loss at Skenesborough ? Let our hearts honor, as they can, Schuyler, the gracious gentleman. ^■- i.^-.-._..i^it^ 240 The Burgoyne Ballads. \\^ \\ His countrymen called back their trust He waited not till they were just, Took lower place, and felt no shame ; Still gave a heart and hand, the same That chose this cause when it began, And, in his honor, give its share To the strong patience of St. Clair. Our tide of strength was running low ; On its swift ebb was borne the foe And, as men speak, God willed it so. Not always will the tide turn out : Not always the strong wind of fate Shall drive from oif the harbor's gate Those who, fast-anchored, wait and wait 'Till their own time shall come about ; Yield never to the crime of doubt. So everywhere great hearts were true, The world looked dark ; here — only here — A hand-breadth of the sky was clear ; But the world's work was here to do ! Manhood in France was in the dust, The prey of rank, and greed, and lust ; And little despots, otherwheres. Laid out the trembling world in shares ; And England — England of the free — Set safe by God amidst the sea, To keep the light of liberty — Under a foreign rule Had learned in that bad school ; Forgotten that, where law has sway, They must make law who law obey. England was reading all her story back. To our true-hearted sires all the world's sky looked black. '^1 M ) ~ jiiM»i i*niimawwiB» ■IP I I ■»■■ The Burgoyne Ballads. Save one clear hand-breadth in the west ; Darkness and clouds held all the rest. The time soon comes : men fill our camps; On fortress-wall the sentry tramps With The New Flag on high, That in the ages down through time Should shelter all weak things but crime ; And all strong wrongs defy. Now gain comes in where came in loss ; Great names are made, or take new gloss ; As fearless Herkimer — so wise To see beyond the young, rash eyes, Where needless, useless, labor lies ; But fatherly and true. To bear their rashness through ; So Willett won at Schuyler fort, And the brave leader Gansevoort : Then, with Stark's day at Bennington, The first great prize of war was won, The conquering of Burgoyne begun. There was no clioosing in the dark, God made the general, John Stark — Our tide swelled toward high water mark. Three months of summer time were past Since, with a gallant host, 'Mid beat of drum and trumpet-blast. And with more lofty boast, Burgoyne his march had forward cast ;; Through fort and field his easy play Would be a conqueror's holiday — To that proud time his thoughts might stray When Gates's army barred his further way. On Bemis Heights our fathers stood, While all the land looked on : 241 11 41 \ i i " ■I! ^l I 1 242 The Burgoyne Ballads. Could they not make their footing good, Then Albany was gone ! Then all the hearts that beat for right Would draw sad presage from the fight ; Then a most heavy blow would smite The heart of Washington ! When the day opened, fair and still And clarions, with alarum shrill Drew echoes from each other's hill, If man his brother's blood must spill, Let not God's word, " Thoti shalt not kill" Bring judgment on our head ! And let the right stand, come what will, Though we go to the dead ! They met the foe. — We will not say All that was done, of deadly fray ; How forward, now, now back they sway, 'Till the night settled late. But by the first strong stand here made Burgoyne's long summer-march was stayed. And many an anxious one took breath, Who watched the turn, for life or death, In the young country's fate. Here, once f ^r all, his march was crossed ; He tried again, again he lost ; And ere the season, growing old, Knew summer out of date, And hung the woods with red and gold, Burgoyne's short story has been told ; A brave heart, but his cause was cold ; God willed our free born state. And so Burgoyne's last march was made : Between our line he led his last parade. 1 The Burgoyne Ballads. After Breath. 243 Now, with still years between, when through we gaze On those dim dead — the strong of earlier days — Now that all strife is still — the great meed gained For them that lived or died, with loyal heart, In alien faith, hut to great manhood strained Unyielding sinews, honor now ! Our part To lay ourselves, as very sod or stone Of trench, when called, to keep our land our own. ALFRED B. STREET'S POEM.* Read bv Colonel E. Howe on the Occasion of the Centennial of the Surrender of Burgovne. When fell Rome's fabric in the chasm it wrought Dense darkness rushed without one star of thought : * Alfred Billings Street, author and poet, born in Poughkeepsie, N. Y., December iSth, 1811. In 1839 he removed to Albany, N. Y., and 1843-44 edited the Norther7i Light, and from 1848 until his death he was State Librarian. Mr. Street began at an early age to write poetry for the magazines, and, as his biographer in "Appleton's Cyclopedia" has justly said, " he attained a respectable rank as a descriptive poet." Some of his productions were highly praised by critics, and several of his poems have been translated into German. Chief among his poems may be mentioned " Frontenac : A Metrical Romance" (London, 1849), "The Burning of Schenectady" (Albany, 1842), and " Drawings and Tintings" (New York, 1844). One of his chief prose works was " Woods and Waters on the Saranac and the Racket," describing a trip in the Adi- ) !| , MA The Burgnyne Ballads. i\ .r lU' Scowled the whole midnight heaven, one general tomb, Where formless monsters moved in Gothic gloom. What though breathed Music in Provencal bowers, And architecture wreathed its fadeless flowers : The loftiest virtues of the soul lay dead. Right, svvordless, crouched to Wrong's crowned con- quering head. And though grand Freedom's essence never dies, It drooped, despairing, under despot skies. If aught it asked, Darius-like the throne At its awed look, in wrathful lightnings shone. Its food the acorn and its home the cell, Its only light but showed its manacle: Until its eye, at throned Oppression's foot. Saw slavery's towering tree, its heart the root. Cast Upas shadow o'er one common grave. With naught but its own soul its life to save. And then it rose; up with one bound it sprang; Thunder from a clear sky its war-shout rang ; — Out like a sunburst, flashed its falchion wide, And gladdened thousands sought its warrior side ; As the mist streaming from some towering crag, It spreaf' the blazon of its glittering flag. In savage gorges which the vulture swept. In lonely caverns where the serpent crept. rondack Region (New York, i860). He was present on the occasion of the dedication of the Saratoga Monu- ment in 1877, o" which occasion, being too feeble himself, his poem was read by Colonel Howe, and the writer well remembers riding with him in the same carriage in the procession on that occasion and having the felicity of hearing the choice gems which dropped from his mouth at that time. :t!^|sr— — ' msmm "PP The Burgoyne Ballads. 245 Close where the tumbling torrent hurled its spray, And shadowy cedars twine a twilight day : Clutching its sword and battling on its knee, Still Freedom fought ; and though the swelling sea Of cruel Wrong still drove it struggling higher It could not quench its pure celestial fire; From peak to peak it rose until the height Showed it but heaven wherein to take its flight. Round flew its glance, it saw its myriad foes Following, still following, rising as it rose ; Following, still following! was no refuge nigh ? Naught on the earth, and only in the sky ? Round flew its glance, it pierced beyond the wave ! Ha ! the new world emerges ! — shall it save ? Hark, a wild cry ! It is the eagle's scream ! See, a broad light, the far league-conquering stream Linking all climates, where it reaching flows ; Its head the snow-drift and its foot the rose. Mountains rise there that know no tread of kings; Blasts that waft liberty on chainless wings: Lakes that hold skies, the swallow tries to cross ; Prairies, earth-oceans ; woods a whirlwind's toss Would seem a puny streak: and with one tongue All thundered " Come !" the welkin, echoing, rung " Come !" and it went ; it took its Mayflower flight ; Fierce raged the blast, cold billows hurled their might Winter frowned stern, it pierced to Freedom's heart ; White spread the strand and hunger reared its dart ; Round the frail hut the panther prowled, the gloat Of the wolfs eyeball starred the chimney's throat ; Though winter entered in its heart, it braced With strength its frame ; its feet the forest traced Despising hardship; by the torrent rocked Its bark canoe ; the wild tornado shocked \ \ \ W 246 The Biirgoyne Ballads. m r 8 ,1 Way through prostrate woods, it grazing, sent No dread, as by its roof it whirling went : From choice it climbed the dizzy cliff to glance O'er its realm's magnificent expanse. Oh, glorious Freedom ! grandest, brightest gift Kind heaven has given our souls to heavenward lift ! Oh, glorious Freedom ! are there hearts so low That its live flame finds there no answering glow ? It soars sublime beyond the patriot's love Stateliest that sways save thought that dwells above. Slaves love their homes, a patriot glad will die For native land, though she in chains may lie ; Noblest of all the soul that loves to fall In the red front at Freedom's sacred call ; His heart right's shield, he braves the despot's ban. Not for himself to perish, but for man. So when crowned Wrong made here, his first advance. Flashed from our fathers wrath's immediate glance; Freedom their life, the sceptre but essayed Attempt, to send their swift hand to their blade. Their serried front said " stay !" their eyes " beware ! Rouse not the still prone panther from his lair !" But vain the mandate, vain the warning spoke. The king strode onward and the land awoke. Stately the sight recording History shows When the red walls of our Republic rose. Reared in deep woods, beneath a scarce-known sky In puny strifes that hardly claimed the eye; Of lands still trembling with the thundering track Of Saxe and Marlborough ; where startling back Russia's black eagle had the Crescent hurled Threatening so late to dominate the world. «• ■» # mmmmm g'ftT-^.L!E~ ;7»xi The Burgoyne Ballads. 247 \ Three threatening strands were woven by the Crown — One stretchinij up Champlain ; one reaching down The Mohawk Valley, whose green depths retained Its Tory heart, Fort Stanwix, scarce restrained, And one up Hudson's flood — the three to link Where stood Albania's gables by its brink. Glance at the picture, ere we spread our wing. Of the grand battle whose famed deeds we sing. Here spreads Champlain with mountain-skirted shore — Caniadere Giiarcntie — open door Of the fierce Iroquois to seek their foes In regions stretching from Canadian snows. West, in a purple dream of misty crag, The Adirondacks wavy outlines drag : East the Green Mountains, home of meadowy brooks, Of cross-road hamle*^s, sylvan school-house nooks. Church-covered hills and lion-hearted men. Taught by the torrent tumbling down the glen, By the grand tempests sweeping round the clitf. By the wild waters, tossing by their skill, Freedom, till Freedom grew their very life, And slavery with all earthly curses rife. Next the dark Horican, that mountain-vein, Bright islet-spangled tassel to Champlain ; The Highlands, souled with Washington and grand With his high presence watching o'er the land ; Thy heights, oh Bcmis! green with woods, yet white W^ith llaUcs of tents, zigzag with works and bright With flairs ; while in perspective, we discern Grouped round grand Washington, with features stern In patriot care and doubt, the forms of Wayne, Putnam and Greene and all the shadowy train Of congress, wrapt spectators from afar Of where fierce Battle drove ing car. his flashing, thunder- 248 The Burgoyne Ballads. As when some dream tumultuous fills the night With changeful scenes and plunges past the sight In hazy shapes looks frowning, till at last With all its weird, wild phantasm it is past, So the broad picture as it melts away, And once more in our hearts peals out our trumpet-lay. A deep, stern sound ! the startling signal-war ! And up Champlain Burgoyne's great squadron bore. In front his savage ally's bark canoes Flashing in all their bravery wild of hues ; Their war songs sounding and their paddles timed ; Next the bateaux, their rude, square shapes sublimed With pennon, sword and bayonet, casting glow In pencilled pictures on the plain below ; Last the grand ships, by queenly Mary led, Where shines Burgoyne in pomp of gold and red, And then in line St. George, Inflexible, And Radeau, Thunderer, dancing on Ihe swell The glad wind made ; how stately shone the scene ! June in the forests, each side smiling green ! O'er her dark dome the chestnut's tassels stretched Like golden fingers ; pearl that seemed as fetched From Winter's heart the locust mantled o'er. While its rich, creamy mass the dogwood bore, Like a white helmet with its plumes atop. And the sweet basswood higher appeared adrop With ivory gems : the hemlock showed its edge Fringed with fresh emerald ; even the sword-like sedge Sharp 'mid the snowy lily-goblets set In the nook shallows, like a spangled net Was jewelled with brown bloom. By curving point Where glittering ripples amber sa:. s anoint With foamy silver ; by deep, crescent bavs Sleeping beneath their veil of drowsy haze. ' MULWa The Burgoyne Balladr,. 249 I By watery coverts shimmering faint in film, Broad, rounded knolls, one white and rosy realm Of laurel blossom, with the Kalmia-urns Dotted with red, the fleet, as sentient, turns The winding channel; in tall towers of white The stately ships absorb the emerald light Glossing the lake ; like huge, dark claw-urged crabs Ply the bateaux their poles ; the paddle-stabs Of the canoes make music as they move, Gliding along unjarred, as in its groove The car-wheel glides ; the panther views the scene And bears her cubs within the thicket's screen ; The wolf lifts sharpened ear and forward foot; Waddles the bear away with startled hoot. As some sail sends a sudden flash of white In the cove's greenery, slow essaying flight The loon rears, flapping, its checked, grazing wings. 'Till up it struggling flies and downward flings Its Indian whoop ; the blue bird's sapphire spark Kindles the shade ; the swarming pigeon's dark Deep blue breaks out ; the robin's warl)le swells In crumply cadence from the skirting dells : And restless rings the bobolink's bubbly note From the clear bell that tinkles in his throat. Thus stately, cheerily move the thronging fleet! O'er the lake's steel the blazing sunbeams beat ; But now a blast comes blustering from a gorge, The whitecaps dance ; it bends the tall vSr. George And even the Thunderer tosses : the array Breaks up ; canoe, bateau grope doubtful way Through the dim air; in spectral white each sail Glances and shivers in the whistling gale ; All the green paintings of point, bank and tree Vanish in black and white, and all but see f.. 250 The Burgoyne Ballads. V \\ i;«:? I: ii * A close horizon where near islands lose Their shapes and distant ranks of forest fuse Into a mass; at last the blast flies off, Shallows stop rattling, and the hollow cough Of surges into caves makes gradual cease 'Till on the squadron glides, once more in sunny peace. So in some blue-gold day white clouds up-float In shining throng, and then are dashed remote By a fierce wind, next join in peace again And smoothly winnow o'er the heavenly plain, Or some fleet of wild fowl on the lake Dipping and preening quiet journey take, Till the sky drops an eagle circling low For the straight plunge, wild scattering to and fro. # * When lay Champlain in eve's gold-plated glass, And rich, black pictures etched the glowing grass. The crews debarked, their camp-fires round would rear. And hang their kettles for their nightly cheer ; Then rose the tents, like mushrooms to the moon, Swords would be edged and muskets polished ; soon Slumber would fan its wings, and in the bright, Soft, delicate peace would croon the summer night. Then the gray day-dawn through the leaves would look. Red-coats would gleam in every emerald nook And weapons glitter ; as the mist would crawl From the smooth lake and up the forest-wall, Sails would shine out and spottings of canoe Moored with bateau would thicken on the view; Rings of dead ashes, fallen trees half burned, Trunks into black Egyptian marble turned. Where curling fires had scorched the streaky moss, Roofs of dead leaves where branches stooped across. .tiitruA ■• m v^* The Burgoyne Ballads. 251 And soil burned black and smoking still would show Where through the night had shone the camp-fire glow ; Limbs drooping down and logs with gaping cuts Where the brigade had reared their bushy huts; A deer's head on a stump, a bear skin cast On trampled ferns— the red man's late repast ; The damp drum's beat would sound, and shrilly fife Dingle and aisle would flash with martial life; Once more the fleet would start and up their way Take as the whole scene brightened into day. On Lady Mary's deck Burgoyne would stand, Dnnkmg the sights and sounds at either hand, Replete with beauty to his poet heart. Laughing to scorn man's paltry works of art. 1 he grassy vista with its grazing deer. The lone loon soaring on its shy career, The withered pine tree with its' fish-hawk nest. The eagle eyrie on some craggy crest. The rich wliite lilies that wild shallow told. Their yellow sisters with their globes of gold At the stream's mouth ; the ever changeful lake Here a green gleaming, there a shadowy rake Of scudding air-breath; here a dazzling flash Searing the eyeball ; there a sudden dash Of white from some swift cloud ; a streak of white " The wake of some scared duck avoiding sight. * * * « * * * * ; \ Changing the scene, Burgovne his camp would trace Round the Red House at the Great Carry in/((57^«, rccpiested to write a poem lor the two hundred and liftieth anniversary of the founding of Stamford. Conn., near which city he now resides, mingling farm life with literary pursuits He has been twice married: to Miss Kate V. Ferguson (deceased) and to Miss Mary W Davenport, of the iamily so closely connected with the history of Con- necticut. Hc^ has three sons-Arthur. Robert and Roland— and finds even greater pleasure in his sons than his sonnets. I i ^S^ \" ^ V^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) I 1.0 I.I m iiy i^ IIIIM |[4 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 M 6" — ► v: ^ /}. d^^ a O 7 /A ^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 V iV ^^ \ \ 6^ >> '^ :i? ^ s to ^r*j5 ^ K m \ iV f- <> A A 270 The Burgoyne Ballada. I \ As now for many a path in life you meet, The hills in their immortal verdure greet, Come with me in my boat of rhyme, Come and ascend the stream of time, Back when the nation was a century newer And held true heroes, though her sons were fewer. Quiet for many a year has here been found — The wild bird feared no martial sight nor sound. Under the peaceful fields, well-kept. The ashes of the soldier slept, With summer's guard of tasselled corn around. And winter's snow-shroud hallowing the ground. On yonder plain, where England's grenadiers Laid down the arms they loved, with bitter tears, The armies of the grass and grain Have struggled o'er and o'er again, In changing regiments of green and yellow, Through lusty June, through August ripe and mellow. Honor the p^ist ! Already has there flown From Saratoga and from Horicon All but their names — whose gentle sounds Still linger round the burial mounds — Of that dark race, which, ever westward flying, Now, like a sunset's light, is slowly dying. The modern spirit would itself demean Did we not flock, to-day, to such a scene : For from the nation's rugged pR«5t, The rude days when her late was cast. Has flowed the stream that makes all men draw near her. The Freedom that has made the world revere her. Here fell the blow that made Oppression reel, And set on Freedom's cause its brightest seal. i mmmmm mmmmmmmmmmmmm The Burgoyne Ballads. Honor to Schuyler, Morgan, Gates. Ihe victors over threatening fates. And praise for him whose niche has but a name Too vahant to forget, to base for fame ! ' Honor to every nameless, fallen one ' Honor them all each one the country's son ! Stone for their fitting monument Nature to Art has kindly lent. And every block that lifts this tapering spire Is sacred as if touched with holy fire. ^ Flew Zl^^ '°''.'^" ^^^ ^^'^ ^°^^ ^« "^n^e i^lew in the wind, a never-dying flame ! giving a heart-beat to the land. Binding it with a silken band— An amulet where'er its name is spoken- Gainst which no sword shall ever fall unbroken ! And when this ceremonial pomp shall pass And undisturbed shall glow and fade thrg;ass While storm and sun and shadow chase Vpf T n fu^^ 1''''"^^' ^'^te^n-featured face. Yet shall this place to many a one be dear . And Liberty shall love to linger here ! To multitudes who come with pilgrim feet The sculptured tablets will their tiles repeat • Again in fancy will be seen ' The red-coats on the meadows green And Jane McCrea shall leave her pillov^ gory Or hearts be moved by Lady Acland's sto^r^' XnI^L ""It ^^'^^ '^^' S''^^^' than her fears W. T. ' °"' ''"^P ""^ conquered it with tears Was but a type of woman's hearr- ' Which ever bravely plays its part-- 271 i(' 272 Tiie Burgoyne Ballads. Which soothes in peace, in war gives cheering word, Melts lead to ball and reaches down the sword Long may our tribute to the brave endure. Here where the winds and waters journey pure. And give to all who on it gaze The spirit of those olden days, When love of right and liberty unbound The strongest clasp that loved ones threw around. Speak ! Sons of Saratoga here to-day, Shall it not be this valley's boast to say : The soil of Saratoga sends The kind of man that never bends, Whether in council hall a vote he wield Or grasps a gun upon a battle-field ? And you, fair village, with your skyward spires, Your leisurely canal, your factory fires, Keep for yourself as fair a fame As his who gave to you a name — The courtly soldier gentlemen who now, Kindly in bronze, meets you with open brow. England ! a foe no longer, peace to thee ! A common lineage throbs beneath the sea; And though this day brings nearer heart The nation's friends who took our part, We send to her who rules thy fair demesnes Greeting from sixty million kings and queens. The nation that forgets its Marathon Has lost the choicest glory it has won. Then let this granite shaft of grace Forever be a rallying place For liberty and honor, till the day The stone is dust, the river dried away ! m it a r ta!K**ttt h» « -.^ii,»t»i'%t ■<^iM#HW-^j«ifttvb>«>vijWK£fiK!S The Burgoyne Ballads. 273 And when, a century hence, this column hath Whirled with the world through space its spiral path And men of grander, later days, With faces strange, upon it gaze • Twill draw our thought, like lightning from the sKies: 1 /le man who dies for cotmtry never dies! ^^^.?I^^^P^^^<^LED BANNER. PARA- PHRASED FOR THE OCCAS ON BY COLONEL B. C. BUTLER* Read by William L. Stone, Secretary of the Saratoga Monument Association. O SAY, can you see, by the dawn's early light On Saratoga's broad plains what so proudly is streaming, ^ Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, . O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming? ^ For our fathers this day to this field made their way lo glory m the conquest of the foe's proud array And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O er the land of the free and the home of the brave. In its field stood the plough, the axe ceased in the wood i^rom his log cabin gladly the wild hunter sallied ' i^rom city and glen they came like a flood To the ranks where the brave and the valiant were rallied. Colonel Benjamin C. Butler, a distinguished lawyer for many years of Saratoga Springs, N. Y. He always took great interest in everything relating to the Revo- lutionary period. He died about 1879 1 'A >; M .1 J. N': 274 The Burgoyne Ballads. O let Stillwater's Heights and Saratoga's dread fight Tell how nobly our sires fought and bled for the right While the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. This day, when our sires trod on sceptre and chain, And the foes of proud Britain were scattered before us, Then went up to heaven with loudest acclaim From the hearts of true freemen, that victory is o'er us. 'Twas Huzzah ! Huzzah ! from the lake to the shore, Our cause it has triumphed, we are subjects no more — The star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. O, thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand Between their loved home and the foes' desolation, Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-blest land Praise the power that hath blest and preserved it a nation. Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just. And this be our motto, " In God is our trust," And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. : * '**'^#**?!"SS8^P^?¥^t3RSBi fiU^Ua!rUlXdaA4L iaMiri The Bxirgoyne Ballads. 283 Gates was a man of great plausibility and address, of gentlemanly instincts, of a handsome person and fair education, and a great lion in society. Though having many faults, the chief of which was an overweening confidence in his own ability, combined with arrogance, untruthfulness and apparently a lack of personal cour- age, he had also some noble traits of character. Before removing to New York from Virginia, he emancipated his slaves, providing for such of them as could not take care of themselves. In his domestic relations he was an affectionate husband and father,* and during the last years of his life a sincere Christian. He married Mary, only child of James Valence, of Liverpool, who, at her father's death, before the Rev- olutionary War, emigrated to this country, bringing with her $450,000, In the struggle for independence Mrs. Gates freely expended nearly all of her fortune in a lavish hospitality upon her husband's companions in arms, especially those who were in indigent circum- stances; and many of the Revolutionary heroes were participants in her bounty, particularly Thaddeus Kosciusko.t who, when wounded, lay six months at * For a charming and loving letter to his wife, just after the battles of Saratoga, see my Burgoynes Campaign. f There are, perhaps, few now living who are aware that Kosciusko left behind him in America a testimo- nial of his fervent love of liberty, as eminently characteristic of the man as was his famous reply to the Emperor Paul, who on Kosciusko's release from prison wished to restore him his sword. " I have no need of a sword, since I have no longer a country !" The will of Kosciusko (on record in the clerk's office of Albemarle Co., Va.), dated "Wills, 1819," \,, 1; t 284 The Burgoyne Ballads. her house, tenderly nursed by herself and her husband. Mrs. Gates, who survived her husband, left the residue was attested by Thomas Jefferson. The will was written by Kosciusko in 1798, on the occasion of his visit to America during^ that year, when, having been released from prison, he came to renew his old associations. The will reads as follows: " I, Thaddeus Kosciusko, being just on my departure from America, do hereby declare and direct that should I make no other testamentary disposition of my property in the United States, I hereby authorize my friend, Thomas Jefferson, to employ the whole thereof in purchasing negroes from among his own or any others, and giving them liberty in my name ; in giving them an education in trades or otherwise, and in having them instructed for their new condition in the duties of morality, which may make them good neighbors, good fathers or mothers, and in their duties as citizens, teaching them to be defenders of their liberties and country, and of the good order of society, and in whatsoever may make them happy and useful. And I make the said Thomas Jefferson executor of this, 5th day of May, 1798. T. Kosciusko. It is not known in what the property of Kosciusko consisted (very likely land given him, as to Steuben, John Rose and others, by Congress, in recognition of their services) nor, indeed, what disposition was made of it. But whatever the property may have been, the desire that it should be put to the use indicated by the will is highly characteristic of the philanthropic patriot, whose whole life was one of continual sacrifice to the well-being of others ; who had early emancipated his own Polish serfs ; who had given money and personal service to the cause of American freedom ; and whose ! I' < .^^amsssair The Burgoyne Ballads. 285 of her fortune ($90,000) to several relatives, whose descendants are still living in New York and Phila- delphia* To sum up, had not Gates allowed his ambition to overstep the bounds of loyalty to his chief, he would have remained among the first of our Revolutionary heroes. As it is, he is known merely as the chance conqueror at Saratoga, and as one, moreover, who, by base chicanery, endeavored to the utmost of his ability to supplant Washington himself. APPENDIX III. BURGOYNE'S PROCLAMATION. {From the Providence " Gazette" of August i6t/i, lyjy) [The following address from General Burgoyne to the Tories and timid Whigs was last week "received from Rhode Island, and is here inserted {Connecticut Journal, August 27th, 1777) lest they should suspect that any Matter is suppressed which they might sup- pose tended to their political salvation. As this per- formance is written in the true Rhodomontade and bombastic Stile of a Don Quixote, and absolutely contains almost as many Falsehoods as Assertions, it is judged unnecessary for the present to make any last and most strenuous exertions, that found a sad culmination in his imprisonment for years and exile from his country, were in behalf of that down-trodden fatherland. (See Scribners Monthly, February, 1879.) * Letter from Thomas Singleton, of Philadelphia, Pa. (a descendant of Mrs. Gates), to the writer. l-\ 286 The Burgoyne Ballads. ) !. is I Remarks thereon. It may, however, not be improper to observe (from authentic Intelligence received) that since this curious address made its appearance, Burgoyne's motley troops (composed of black and white savages) have actually butchered and scalped a considerable number oi those very Tories to whom he had promised Protection, and whose " Undertakings" he had plighted his Faith to assist and encourage^ Proclamation. By JOHN BURGOYNE, Esquire, etc., etc., Lieu- tenant-General of his Majesty's Forces in America, Colonel of the Queens Regiment of Light Dragoons, Governor of Fort William in North Britain, one of the Representatives of the Commons of Great Britain in Parliament \author of a celebrated Tragic Comedy, called the Blockade of Boston^ and cotnmanding an army and FUet in an Expedition from Canada^ etc., etc. " The forces entrusted to my command are designed to act in concert, and upon a common principle, with the numerous armies and fleets, which already display in every quarter of America the power, the mercy of the king; the cause in which the British arms are thus exerted appeals to the most affecting interest of the human heart, and the military servants of the crown, at first called forth for the sole purpose of restoring the rights of the constitution, and duty to their sovereign, the other extensive incitements, which spring from a due sense 'le general privileges of mankind. To the eyes a..- jars of the temperate part of the public, and to the breasts of suffering thousands in the provinces be the melancholy appeal. Whether the present unnatural ebellion has not been made the foundation of the co.npletest system of tyranny that wamA ■miiHMiil The Burgoyne Ballads. 287 ever God, in His displeasure, suffered for a time to be exercised over a froward and stubborn generation, arbitrary imprisonments, confiscation of property, perse- cution and torture^ unprecedented in the inquisitions of the Romish Church, are among the palpable enor- mities that verify the affirmation. These are inflicted by assemblies and committees, who dare to profess themselves friends to liberty, upon the most quiet subject, without distinction of age or sex, for the sole crime, often from the sole suspicion of having adhered in principle to the government under which they were born, and to which by every tie divine and hitman they owe allegiance. To consummate these shocking proceedings, the profanation of religion is added to the most profligate prostitution of common reason ! The consciences of men are set at naught, and multi- tudes are compelled not only to bear arms, but also tr ear subjection to an usurpation they abhor. Ani- .ccd by these considerations, at the head of troops in the full powers of health, discipline and valor, deter- mined to strike when necessary, and anxious to save when possible, I, by these presents, invite and exhort all persons in all places where the progress of this army may point, and by the blessing of God I will extend it far, to maintain such a conduct as may justify me in protecting their lands, habitations and families. The intention of this address is to hold forth security, not depredation, to the country ; to those whose spirit and principle may induce them to partake in the glorious task of redeeming their countrymen from dungeons, and re-establishing the blessings of legal government, I offer encouragement and employment ; and upon the first intelligence of their association, I will find means to assist their undertakings. The domestic, the indus- trious, the infirm, I am desirous to protect, provided I 111 lil? H , i \ r il" i 288 Tlie Burgoyne Ballads, they remain quietly at their houses, that they do not suffer their cattle to be removed, or their corn or forage to be secreted or destroyed ; that they do not break up their bridges or roads, or by any other acts, directly or indirectly, endeavor to obstruct the operations of the king's troops, or supply or assist those of the enemy. Every species of provision brought to my camp will be paid for at an equitable rate, in solid coin, "In consciousness of Christianity, my royal master's clefuency, and the honor of soldiership, I have dwelt upon this invitation, and wished for more persuasive terms to give it Expression: and let not people be led to disregard it by considering the immediate situation of my camp : I have but to give stretch to the Indian forces under my direction — and they amount to thousands — to overtake the hardened enemies of Great Britain and America : I consider them the same wherever they lurk. If notwithstanding these endeavors and sincere inclination to assist them, the frenzy of hostility should remain, I trust I shall stand acquitted in the eyes of God and of men in denouncing and executing the vengearce of the State against the wilful outcast. The messengers of justice and of wrath await them in the field, and devastation, famine, and every concomitant horror that a reluctant but indispensable prosecution of military duty must occasion will bar the way to their return. "J. BURGOYNE. '\Camp at the River Bouquet t \sic Bouquet] June 2T,d, 1777. By order of his Excellency, the Lieutenant General. " Robert Kingston, " Sccretaryr •I L». ■.•*a^.. ^tOm The Burgoyne Ballads. 28a Comments on the above. Now, while Burgoyne was greatly ridiculed by the patriots of the day for this proclamation, yet from the standpoint of those who most conscientiously believed it was wrong to rebel against the king and his legiti- mate government, it seems to me that he only did what his duty required. Seen now from a distance, it must be admitted that there were many good men — men of established integrity — who believed the colonists were wrong in the stand they took. I know it is the habit to ridicule all such ; but while myself believing that the colonists were right in throwing off the yoke of the mother-couniry — which had become most in- tolerable — yet it seems to me that some charity should be exercised toward those who conscientiously at the time believed the contrary. Hence this practice of sneering at those who were not willing at once to re- nounce their allegiance to their king is not to be com- mended. Take, for example, our late Civil War. We of the North believed that the South had no right to rebel ; yet the right to rebel is an inherent right. We of the North put the rebellion down, and rightly ; still, had the South been stucessfiil they would have been considered deserving of praise and would have been patriots among their own section. They did not ; hence they were rebels. In the same way, had the colonists in our Revolutionary contest been un- successful, they would have been rebels. Success, after all, makes the great difference. Of course, it must be taken into account that the South were fighting, so to speak, for slavery, \\\{\q\\ in itself damned their cause, 2i^^ justly. Still, I think that the inherent right to rebel is universally admitted. As I say, had the American colonists not been successful they would Ai 'ii i : 1 II . / ' 290 27ie Bvrgoyne Ballads. have been rebels, and Washington an arch conspira- tor. They were successful — hence it was all right ; in other words, success is the great arbiter of future opinion. Burgoyne, therefore, in his proclamation, as a loyal subject of his king, did right and does not deserve the sneers which have been thrown at him. Had the cause of the crown succeeded, Arnold, even, would have been considered only a man who went back to his allegiance, in the same way, that, had the South suc- ceeded, Lee and Davis would now be looked upon as sav- iours instead of rebels. Still, this does not justify Arnold in betraying the cause of the colonists, which he had espoused. Had he come out frankly and above board and said to Washington, " I am convinced that I have been wrong, and I herewith renounce my position as general," no sensible man could have blamed him. His treachery, however, puts him beyond the pale of any sympathy. Burgoyne, however, as a loyal sub- ject of his king does not merit sarcasm. I V^ APPENDIX IV. TIMOTHY MURPHY, THE SHARP- SHOOTER. The soldier who shot General Eraser was Timothy Murphy, a native of Pennsylvania. He enlisted in Northumberland County in July, 1775, in Captain John Loudon's company, First Pennsylvania Conti- nental Line. He was detached with Captain James Parr, who succeeded Loudon, under Morgan, when that officer was ordered by Washington to the assistance of The Burgoyne Ballads, 291 General Gates, on August i6th, 1777, and arrived in Gates's camp on the 2 2d of that month * The first we hear of Murphy was his being one of the best shots among Morgan's sharpshooters. At the second battle of Saratoga the latter noticed repeat- edly during that conflict a noble-looking British officer, who, mounted upon a magnificent bluck charger, dashed from one end of the line to the other, appear- ing wherever the danger was greatest, and by his judgment, courage and activity, frequently retrieving the fortunes of the day when all seemed on the point of being lost. He recollected having seen this officer in the battle of September 19th, having on that occasion admired him for the skill and bravery which he displayed. While this officer lived, Morgan considered the issue of the contest a doubtful one. He therefore, as stated in the text, selected twelve of his best marksmen, and leading them to a suitable position, whence he pointed out the doomed officer, he told them to kill him when next he came within reach of their rifles.f Several of the sharp-shooters discharged their pieces without effect, but when Murphy fired Fraser fell. Nor, while in Gates's camp, was he distinguished solely as a " crack shot." His coolness and daring also made him a man of mark. It is related that "just be- fore the first battle of Saratoga he went out of the American camp, and having ascertained the British countersign, he went into one of their tents, and seeing an officer writing alone, he whisnered to him (pointing to his hunting- ife) spok * Letter to the author from of Harrisburg, Pa. t Graham's " Lite of Morgan." Hon. James B. Linn, i 292 The Burgoyne Ballads. he would make daylight shine through him. The offi- cer, not having a sword or pistols near him, reluctantly marched before him to the American camp. At the last battle of Saratoga, in which both armies were engaged. Murphy was, as he states, within five feet of Arnold when he passed over the fortifications, sword in hand. Murphy to the day of his death ascribed the chief honor of Burgoyne's defeat to General Arnold, and believed the latter never would have betrayed his country had he received the honors he so richly merited." After the capture of Burgoyne, Murphy returned with Morgan's corps to the Southern department, and was also present at the battle of Monmouth in June, I 778.* A short time after that action, Lieutenant- * The effective usefulness of this famous body of experienced riflemen in checking the aggressive and savage bands of Indians which formed a portion of Burgoyne's army was soon apparent to General Gates, to whom VVashington had sent it in August The corps, as soon as it reached the Northern army, not only worsted the Indians in the various encoun- ters in which they became confronted, but it also created such a panic among the red men that they at once lost all interest in fighting and scouting for Bur- goyne, and hastily departed for their homes. Gates then employed the corps as sharp-shooters and skir- mishers, in which line of duty it did splendid service. After Washington's army had been compelled, as the result of the battle of Brandywine, to retire before the larger force of Sir William Howe, the commanding general's situation was such as to ask for its return to him. His letter to General Gates embodying the re- quest is as follows : The Burgoyne Ballads. 293 Colonel William Butler, with the Fourth Pennsyl- vania Regiment and three companies of rillcmen from Morgan's corps, under Major Posey, commanded by Captains Long of Maryland, and Parr and Simpson of the First Pennylvania, were ordered up to Albany and thence to Schoharie. Thus, Lieutenants Thomas Boyd and Timothy Murphy again went to New York to defend the frontier from the savage enemy ; and upon the disbanding of those troops — their term of enlistment having expired — Murphy and some others remained and served in the militia until the end of the war. His skill in the desultory war which the Indians carried on gave him so high a reputation, that though not nominally the commander, he usually directed all "Camp near Pottsgrove, September 2^, 1777. Sir : This army has not been able to oppose Gen- eral Howe with the success that was wished, and needs a re-enforcement. I therefore request, if you have been so fortunate as to oblige General Burgoyne to retreat to Ticonderoga, or if you have not, and cir- cumstances will admit, that you will order Colonel Morgan to join me again with his corps. I sent him up when I thought you materially wanted him, and if his services can be dispensed with now, you will direct him to return immediately. You will perceive I do not mention this by way of command, but leave you to determine upon it according to your situation ; if they come, they should proceed by way of water from Albany as low down as Peekskill ; in such case you will give Colonel Morgan the necessary orders to join me with dispatch. I am, sir, your most obedient servant, " Go. Washington. " Major-General Gates." V l^ '!! \: 294 The Burgoyne Ballads. the movements of the scouts that were sent out, and on many important occasions the commanding offi- cers found it dangerous to neglect his advice ; his double rijle, his skill as a marksman, and his fleetness, either in retreat or pursuit, made him an object both of dread and of vengeance to the Indians ; they formed many plans to destroy him, but he always eluded them, and sometimes made them suffer for their temerity. He fought the Indians with their own weapons. When circumstances permitted, he tomahawked and scalped his fallen enemy ; and he boasted after the war that he had slain forty of the enemy with his own hand, more than half of whom he had scalped : he took delight in perilous adventures, and seemed to love danger for its own sake. The Indians were unable to conjecture how he could discharge his rifle twice without having time to reload; and his singular good fortune in escaping un- hurt led them to suppose that he was attended by some invisible being, who warded off their bullets and sped his with unerring certainty to the mark. When they had learned the mystery of his doubled-barrelled rifle, they were careful not to expose themselves too much until he had fired twice, knowing that he must have time to reload his piece before he could do them further injury. One day having separated from his party, he was pursued by a number of Indians, all of whom he out- ran, excepting one; Murphy turned round, fired upon this Indian, and killed him. Supposing that the others had given up the pursuit, he stopped to strip the dead, when the rest of his pursuers came in sight. He snatched the rifle of his fallen foe, and with it killed one of his pursuers ; the rest, now sure of their MKlU^MH^ '^^ema^memamr^^t^ n!Rnes^i>xsu!iC^>'.:^ ^y.i^'pS, The Burgoyne litdhida. 295 prey, with a yell of joy heedlessly rushed on, ho{)injr to make him their prisoner. He was ready to drop down with fatij^ue, and was likely to be overtaken, when, turning round, he discharged the remaining bar- rel of his ritle, and killed the foremost of the Indians. The rest, astonished at his firing three times in succes- sion, tied, crying out that he had "a great medicine of a gun that would shoot all day without loading." In- deed, so dangerous was Murphy regarded, that it was not long before the Tories set an extra price on his scalp — a price that was never paid, although many Indians lost i/icir scalp in trying to win the reward. One of the attempts to capture him which is still handed down in Schoharie tradition, as having occurred toward the close of the Revolution, was as follows : Murphy had a cow, on the neck of which he had placed a bell, that he might the better find her in the woods. A shrewd Indian took the bell oft the cow's neck, and having placed it on his own, went jingling it about in the woods, hoping by this means to entice the cow's owner v/ithin killing or capturing distance. The scout, however, knew too well the dififerent music produced by a cow and an Indian; and so driving the animal home from another part of the woods, he left the " ding-dong" warrior to the enjoyment of his own wit. On another occasion, while on Sullivan's expedition, he and twenty-five others were surrounded by five hun- dred Tories and Indians, under Butler and Brant. Two attempts to cut their way out had resulted in failure, with the loss of seventeen of their number. The third" attempt was more successful ; for Murphy, having tumbled a huge warrior into the dust (which caused his dusky brethren to laugh even in the heat of battle), eff"ected an opening in the circle, through which his comrades fled — sazcve qui pent — the Indians giving I n 296 The Burgoyne Ballads. chase. After a little Murphy observed that he had distanced all his pursuers except two — one a tall and the other a short Indian. Several times as they neared him he would raise his rifle (which was unloaded) as if to shoot, whereupon they would fall back. Finding as he ran that, owing to the swelling of his feet, his moccasins began to pain him, he opened a clasp-knife, and while running slit the tops of the moccasins (at the risk of cutting the tendons of his feet) and so got relief. Shortly after, entering a swale and getting his feet caught in the long grass, he fell at full length. It was to this at first seemingly untoward accident that he owed his temporary safety and final escape ; for the long grass affording a favorable place for concealment, he lay st'll until his pursuers had passed on. Loading his rifle, he went on his way rejoicing at his fortunate escape, and with reason ; for had he been captured he knew that any hope for mercy would have been in vain, since at that very time he had an Indian's scalp in his pocket and the same hairless redskin's moccasins on his feet. He had not gone far, however, before he saw an Indian approaching him. The discovery was mutual, and they simultaneously took trees. After dodging each other for some time. Murphy resorted to a very old and, one would think, a worn-out ruse. He drew his ramrod, and placing his hat upon it, gently moved it on one side of the tree. The Indian at once put a ball through it, and it dropped. Whereupon, running up to obtain the scalp, he received Murphy's bullet in his breast ; and as he fell he exclaimed, " O-nah !" Lieutenant Boyd, the commander of the party, and who attempted to escape with Murphy, was less fortunate. Less fleet of foot, he was captured and subjected to horrible torture. The Seneca Indians, under Little Beard and instigated by Butler, made an JSSSisBaamij. The Burgoyne Ballads. 297 incision in his abdomen, fastened his intestines to a tree, and compelled him to walk around it until they were all drawn out. They then enlarged his mouth, • dug his nails out, cut his tongue out and his ears otf, cut his nose off and put it in his mouth, dug his eyes out, and as he was dying cut off his head, which was their most humane act. "After this," says a writer personally cognizant of the affliir, " there began to be mysterious disappearances of Tories and Indians ; and it was noticed that, coincident with each disappear- ance, there would be a brush-heap fire in the vicinity, in which the missing person was last seen. It is to be supposed that calcined bones might have been found by those who cared to look in the ashes of these brush fires. The remaining Tories and Indians took the hint, and left that part of the country, so that the inhabitants at length breathed freer." At the close of the war, Murphy, who had mean- time married, instead of returning to his native State, Pennsylvania, settled in Schoharie as a farmer. But, if tradition is to be believed, his old habits still clung to him. When peace was declared many of the Scho- harie Indians had the temerity to return and settle again among a people whose houses and barns they had burned and whose friends and relatives had fallen beneath their tomahawks. Among them was one Indian, named Seth Henry, who had killed more Scho- harie people than any other man. His nature, even for an Indian, seemed an unusually cruel one; and he would sometimes leave a war-club upon the dead body of his victim, with a horrid row of notches cut on it, each notch indicating a scalp taken. An ener- getic savage, he once led a party from Fort Niagara in the winter to capture certain Schoharie patriots ; and he succeeded, travelling six hundred miles, though,' ^ I I Mi 298 The Burgoyne Ballads. to do so. He, too, had the audacity to come back, but he was much upon his guard. One day he started to go from one house to another. Murphy was also ob- served to go in the same direction shortly afterward ; and it is a curious coincidence that, as far as can be ascertained, Seth Henry never reached his destination, nor was he ever afterward seen either alive or dead. Murphy's passions were easily aroused, and as is the case with such natures, as easily subdued. The follow- ing anecdote is an instance in point.* Some time in the latter part of the Revolution Murphy had charge of a small scout which went to reconnoitre in the vicinity of Oquago. While there they took three pris- oners, one of whom was a Scotch lad, and soon after started on their return to Schoharie. In the night the boy escaped, taking along Murphy's rifle, an act not very pleasing to the fearless ranger. Some months afterward the boy was retaken by another scout, and with him the stolen firelock. When its owner learned that the boy was taken, and was approaching as a pris- oner, his passions took fire, and he declared his inten- tion of killing him, arming himself with a tomahawk for that purpose. Elerson, a fellow-scout, and who told this anecdote to Mr. Simms, reasoned the matter with him. He told him to put himself in the boy's place, and asked if he, similarly situated, would not have acted in the same manner as the boy had done. Murphy's better nature soon yielded to this reasoning; his anger was appeased, and the boy was brought into his presence without receiving any injury. The boy was afterward taken to Albany and sold, according to the custom of those times, into servitude for a short period. Murphy, speaking of this affair after the war, * Related by Jeptha R. Simms. Bk iifii HKMW mm mgm The Burgoyne Ballads. 299 expressed his gratitude that he was prevented by his friend from injuring the lad who had stolen his gun. He had also a good heart. On one occasion, on March 15th, 1784, the ice lodged in the river near Mid- dieburg and overflowed the flats near his residence. Many cattle and sheep were swept off in the freshet and killed. In an attempt to save the family of John Adam Brown, a near neighbor, he waded into the water among the floating pieces of ice, and succeeded in bear- ing to a place of safety his two sons ; but Brown him- self and Lana, his only daughter, then about twelve years old, were, unfortunately, in the lower part of the house and were drowned. Many anecdotes are also told of Murphy's great skill as a marksman. The two following seem well authen- ticated, and are taken from Simms's " Frontiersmen of Nev^ York :" During the winter of 1781-82 Murphy killed quite a number of deer on the Schoharie mountains, and dressed their pelts very handsomely. In the spring, to break the monotony of a camp life, he got up a shoot- ing match at the Upper Fort, by way of testing the skill of his comrades in arms in the sale of his deer- skins. He occasionally took a shot himself, and usu- ally won back his property ; but as some objected to his firing, he desisted, as he had been well paid for it, and whoever could bore off the beautiful buff leather. After the skins were all disposed of, " Now," says Mur- phy, " let us shoot for a gallon of rum." A large white oak tree was " blazed" near the ground, a line drawn round in the exposed wood, and in the circle a small piece of white paper was fastened by a brass nail. The distance fired was one hundred yards. Several close shots had been made, and it became Murphy's turn to fire. He laid down on the ground at full length, rest- ^1 t-' 300 The Burgoyne Ballads. ing his rifle on his hat, as others of his competitors had done, and after glancing over the harrel, he was heard to say, " Sure, and I believe I can see that nail." Again he sighted his piece ; it exploded and the paper fell. An examination showed -a centre shot ; the ball had driven the nail exactly in. Again, in the fall of 1799, four Schoharie rifle- men of Revolutionary days and deeds met at the residence of Captain Jacob Hager, in Blenheim, on their return from either a hunt or a shooting match. Before separating, it was proposed to shoot at a mark. A target was made by pinning a small piece of white paper to a board some two feet long, and the parties repaired to a field a few rods south of the house. They paced off one hundred yards from their standing point, to which the target was taken by one of the four, who held it between his knees to receive the bullet of a comrade, who in turn held it for another, it being thus alternately held until all had fired. Each of the first three shots cut the edge of the paper — that of William Leek on the right, that of David Elerson on the left, that of a third, whose name is now for- gotten, on the bottom. Murphy made the last shot, and the paper fell. On examination it was found that his ball had driven the pin through the board.* * David Elerson, mentioned in the text, and who was a private in Captain Long's company of Mor- gan's rifle corps, and a companion of Murphy in many hazardous enterprises, related the following anecdote to Mr. Simms in 1837: "Morgan's riflemen had acquired much celebrity as marksmen while under Gates. When in the vicinity of Albany, on their return from the Northern army a gentleman near whose residence they halted expressed a wish to aBiMiS! The Burgoyne Ballads. 301 In person Murphy was stout and well made, with dark complexion, rather a large body and small limbs, hand- some in face, with jet black hair, and an eye that would kindle and flash like the lightning when excited. He was exceedingly quick in all his motions, and possessed an iron frame that nothing apparently could affect. What, moreover, is very remarkable, his body was never wounded or even scarred during the whole war.* "It was Murphy's misfortune," says Simms, "like many other master spirits of the Revolution, not to have the advantages of an early education, even such as our common schools now afford. In fact, he possessed not those elements of an education — the art of reading and writing. For this reason he witness their skill. The captain signified his will- ingness to gratify his curiosity, and a piece of paper was fastened upon a small poplar tree. Elerson handed his rifle — one of the best in the company — to John Gassaway, who took a surer aim than himself. The rifle was levelled one hundred yards distant from the mark and fired. The leaden messenger passed through the paper and the tree, splitting the latter several inches and ruining it. Said the gentleman, looking at his crippled tree, which had been converted into a weeping willow (it will be remembered that fashion had made the poplar a very desirable shade tree), ' I do not wonder the Indians are afraid of Morgan's riflemen, if that is the way they shoot.' He then treated the company to liquor, as was the custom of the times, expressed his satisfaction at their skill, and the troops resumed their march." * Communicated to the writer by one who knows a friend of Murphy. i I \\\ mmm^m^m If fit ri h r 302 The Burgoyne Ballads. declined accepting a proffered commission, know- ing that he would be subjected to much inconven- ience and be liable to be imposed upon by design- ing men. Had he been an educated man, he might have made another Wayne or Morgan ; but the want of the rudiments of an education compelled him to see others less fitted in other respects than himself occupying stations of profit and honor." At the termination of the Revolutionary war he took charge of his father-in-law's farm. He appears to have been a citizen much respected in his county, and as a father he was indulgent to a fault, having, says Simms, been known to bring home from Albany for a daughter some five or six dresses at one time. Although Murphy could neither read nor write, yet he was a powerful stump speaker, and for many years wielded powerful political influence in Schoharie County. He was largely instrumental in bringing his young friend and neighbor, the Honorable William C. Bouck, into public life, was zealous in obtaining for him the appointment of sheriff, and indirectly contrib- uted to his subsequent election as Governor. Murphy died of a cancer upon his neck, June 27th, 18 18, which was said by some to have been caused by his exposure while attempting to rescue the Brown family in 1 784, and by others, by the recoil of his rifle on his cheek.* *The late General Epaphras Hoyt, of Deerfield, Mass., a most accomplished writer and reliable historian, left at his death a work for publication, with maps, en- titled " Burgoyne's Campaign." He Served under Gates, and his published letter on a visit to the Saratoga battlefields not only corroborates the above incidents in Murphy's life, but is a most valuable military criti- cism of those battles. We intend to give this letter ■aijiiimr" The Burgoyne Ballads. 303 APPENDIX V. LADY HARRIET ACLAND. Two shining examples of female conjugal devotion stand out prominently in our Revolutionary annals — the Baroness Riedesel and Lady Harriet Acland. The life of the former has been given with accuracy in her "Letters and Journals:" that of the latter has never been narrated either with fulness or correctness. To supply this defect is the object of the present paper. Lady Harriet, as she was commonly called, was the fifth daughter of Stephen, first Earl of Ilchester, and a cousin of the celebrated Charles James Fox. She was born on January 3d, 1750. Her full name v^as Christian Henrietta Caroline Fox Strangways, and she was married in September, 1770, to John Dyke Acland, of Columb-John, Devonshire. Her elder sister was the Lady Susan O'Brien — mentioned in "Graydon's Memoirs" and in the writer's *' Life of Sir William Johnson" — who in June, 1765, was, with her husband, a recipient of the courtly hospitality of the baronet at Johnson Hall. By her marriage with William O'Brien, an actor, in the spring of the previ- ous year, she had alienated her family, and had conse- quently sailed with her husband for America, arriving in New York in April. Sir William Johnson was advised of their arrival by her uncle, the first Lord Holland, who in April wrote to him detailing the in our forthcoming work on " The Visits to the Saratoga Battlefield," shortly to be issued by Munsell's Sons. V, I if ! I 804 The Burgoyne Ballads. ';»':' I U III circumstances of the marriage, and requesting his friendly offices for his niece, who had "just emigrated to the wild woods of America." From letters of Lady Susan in the writer's possession it appears that her host and his Indian wife did everything in their power to render their visit agreeable, and that the baronet was equally at home whether entertaining the rude savage or the scion of a noble house. Molly Brant is spoken of particularly as a " well-bred and pleasant lady," who in many a ramble with her lady- ship proved a " delightful companion." Nor was this kindly feeling entirely one-sided. So much did his high-born guest interest Sir William in her favor that shortly after Lady Susan and her husband returned to New York he wrote a letter to Lord Holland begging that the young couple might be again received into the good graces of his family — urging, among other things, that O'Brien seemed to be a "very worthy young man, possessing in the highest degree the affec- tions of his wife." Lady Harriet appears to have been full as warm- hearted and romantic as her sister, and, although her affections did not lead her into defying the opinions of her family and making a runaway match, yet her conjugal love was equally shown by her braving the perils of a long ocean-voyage and enduring the trials and hardships of a camp-life in an enemy's country rather than be separated from the husband of her choice. When Burgoyne made up his staff for his contem- plated campaign in America, he selected to command the grenadiers Major Acland, an officer greatly in his confidence and possessing high professional attain- ments and brilliant courage. Lady Harriet, like the Baroness Riedesel refusing to allow her husband ■ „~iin p Bj; .«i^-- -. «*r I ■; I; '. !i,t I 322 The liiirgoync BallaJs. !.' ' ■' ^ ,, I I.I ' 1 in honor of my special \^cts, ihc /}a/>ooscs o( the \v\fr- warns. " AmonjLj the young girls of the Jones connection was one to whom I was particularly attracted, as she was to me, by the similarity of our positions. Her father lived in a remote district, and iier home was almost as isolated as my own, while she was with their relatives for the same purj)ose as myself. At the close of each term of our school she was, as well as myself, carried home to pass the short interval between the terms. On one of these occasions she was so urgent in her entreaties that 1 might be permitted to go with her for the vacation that my father consented, much to my satisfaction, and we set forth in great glee. Our journey was very delightful, through a wild and roman- tic region, and 1 received a most cordial welcome from her family at its close. " The house was more elaborate in stvle and furni- ture tlian our home so recently founded in the woods. A poition of it was built by her grandfather many years before, and extensive modern additions had been made by her father. Her grandfather died the previous year, and his brother, a very venerable old gentleman with hair as white as snow, lived in the family. 1 was deeply impressed by the countenance and manner of this granduncle of my friend. ^\n expression of un- utilerable sadness was stamj^ed upon his noble features, and a gentle dignity — benign to the verge of pity — marked his whole bearing, even to the softened tones of his manly voice, especially when addressing the voung in the few slowly uttered but impressive words which he seldom exceeded when speaking to them. He was very fond of his grandniece, and, silent and reserved as he was with others, he never tired of listen- ing to her sprightly prattle. !. 1 « Tim ISurtjoyn,- BuUiuIh. gjg "As soon as I foun,l a pr<,|,cr occasion I plicl her -.11 Muc-stions as to this in.ccslin.; „ia,ivc, u'hon Z~ had never „u-nt,o„cd vvhen lullinj; ,nc aln.u, ,cr la ni ' S .e sc nc.l shKhtly constrained when s|.eakh,ir„l h m >ut ol.l me he was a l.achelor.and that he mc^ wi ,' t^coveii w":;" 'i; 'r •'■"""'• "■■'" "'-■'' '- •' ■'■■ mT i ;..l, f","" ^■"^^■'•pHlinacily naltnal to small da i,^hiers of l-,ve I drew from this reluct n,i witness that h,.r smnulfaiher. Captain JonalhanNHRs ■;"'! tins K^-nileman, his l.rotlu'r -Lieuten n I -id ones-were olllcers in liuroovne's arm^■ d , n ^ | I hrst years ol the Revolution ; that the iieut.na m w engaged to a heautiful young lady, whose hrolh v s .stanch supporter of the American cause and opposed to her union wMl, the Torv officer. an,l iha, s hL w^s kdled and scalped liy the Indians while goin,. wiih a fiiend and escort :o meet that office, iutlu. liVi si mirgo, no. Ue was so crushed hy ih,. terrihie hlow and chsgusted with the apathy of D^g.nne in ef hi' o punish the nnscre. , who hrouglu her scalp to il e amp as a trophv.clainnng the pountv ollered o such other ';i'ed f"'"" ' V"-""'-^' "-' I- -kI hi olhci asked lor a discharge and were refused, when hey deserted-he having first rescued the preci us h s' c' n,'r''''''"T'i' '""" "■'■ ^--^'.U'cs-and i,',i,e To th,s Canadian wilderness, which he had never hecn manyy.c^ls'S;.-"'^''"' ""°" ^^ '">-'"- ---" nn^1-''-;.r'n ""^ ^^'""^v '^'^c name of the ladv so Ion-. and fa.thfully n.ournr.i. but when I asked lier if t is ia.gedy did nci occur near Fort Edu-ard. on th(> IIu on she remembered to have heard that place n n- lonel ,n connection with it. She said they were a 1 forbidden to speak in his presence of Ameri an lla V:\ .i i i /; MOT ' 324 The Burgoyne Ballads. M , t Vli ' : 'WM^ i'i' I / II 1 or history, but she had once persuaded him to let her see the mournful relic so precious to him. She described the hair as the most beautiful she had ever seen, light auburn in color, soft and glossy as silk, per- fectly even, and a yard and a quarter in length. " ' Well, my dear A ,' said I, ' it so happens that I know more about this sad affair than even yourself, who have always lived in the house with him. When my father and mother used to visit his oldest sister in Bennington, Vt, they took me with them at her special request ; for, being the only daughter of her favorite brother, she always treated me with more tender atfection than she showed toward her other nieces. Her house, which she had long known and occupied, was one where the officers quartered at the time of the battle of Bennington, and 1 remember the speechless awe with which I was wont to con over and spell out the names of those officers, recorded by them- selves, on the eve of the battle, upon a pane of glass in the window with the diamond in a ring belonging to one of their number, who was killed in the conflict of the next day. " * My aunt's memory was a storehouse of tales of those times, and I never tired of listening to them. No sooner was one finished than I teased for another, until I am sure the patience of the good dame must have been sorely tried. She knew this young lady, whose name was Jane McCrea, and also Mrs. McNeil, the Tory friend whom Miss McCrea was visiting at the time of their capture by the Indians. I little thought when I cried over the doleful story that the lover was still living, much less that I should ever see him !' " A did not dare repeat to her venerable relative what I had told her, but she ventured to beg that I might be allowed to see the beautiful hair of his lost •"t^ ' • y^iapw s uBf i iWTTy The Burgoyne Ballads, 325 love. He was deaf to her entreaties, assuring her that she was the only one who had or would see it while he lived, and that he wished to have it buried with him when he died. " After our return to school I drew from her some facts in relation to the mysterious journey she had men- tioned his having once taken. ' I do not know much about it,' she said. ' I heard it from an old servant- woman of the family, who told me that many years before I was born a stranger came there one evening, who appeared to be a gentleman's valet. He brought a fine-looking, intelligent young boy with him, and inquired for my grandfather. Captain Jonathan Jones.' " The substance of my friend's account was that, after an interview of some length with her grandfather, his brother, the lieutenant, was called in, and the three were together in the library during most of the night, discussing some very interesting matter connected with the boy. The butler had been ordered to prepare re- freshments in the dining-room, and Robert, one of the waiter-boys — an urchin gifted with a larger amount of mischief and curiosity than his small frame could pos- sibly enclose, insomuch that they were continually over- flowing, to the annoyance of the whole household — was directed to remain within call to serve them when re- quireid. It was not in the nature of this valet that he should remain idle at his post during the long hours of the night, and his faculties were too much on the alert as to the subject engaging his superiors to yield to drowsiness ; so, in perfect submission to his ruling instincts, he plied the keyhole diligently for such infor- mation as it might convey to his ear when the parties became so excited as to raise their voices above the low tone to which most of their conversation was con- fined. He gathered from these snatches that Captain V. n y^: UT 326 The JBurgoyne Ballads. in ) I- ' 4 1, If 1 1 'I Jones was urgently entreated to perform some service for the boy which he was reluctant to undertake. He heard him exclaim vehemently : ' I will not be persuaded to receive under my roof the son of that detestable traitor, whose treason, although to an unrighteous cause, caused my dearest friend, one of the bravest and most noble officers in his Majesty's service, to be hung like a dog by the vile rebels. I should be constantly haunted with the thought that I was nurturing a viper to sting me when occasion offered.' His brother David said something in reply, of which Robert heard only enough to infer that there was a retired officer of the American army across the river who might be per- suaded to do what was desired. ' Very well,' said the captain ; ' you can undertake the task, if you see fit, but I have no belief that you will gain the consent of one who loathes the father so bitterly to take charge of the son. Still, as he is a bachelor, he would escape the risk of exposing a family to injurious consequences, and as sufficient provision will be made for the support and education of the boy, there will be no pecuniary risk ; it will also, no doubt, be easier, as you say, to keep the secret of his birth in the States than there in the vicinity of his father's retreat. You may perhaps succeed, and I wish no harm may come of it if you do.' " Robert heard no more, and soon after these remarks the confab broke up, and he was called to serve the refreshments in the library. *' The lieutenant departed with the boy and his at- tendant the next day. He was absent some days, and nothing further was known as to his journey, its object and result, than was gathered from Robert's story, which was soon circulated through the neighborhood. It formed the basis of many conjectures and discus- sions among the country people and servants. These . iSi i HW il M I The BurgoyA,e Ballads. 327 were renewed with increased excitement when, after some months, it was discovered that a stone cottage in the English style had been built in the midst of a dense wilderness some miles back from a Canadian village situated on the bank of the St. Lawrence, and was occupied by an old man, whose sole attendant was a servant, who visited that village occasionally for sup- plies, but utterly refused to answer the questions of the villagers or give any information as to his master's name or history. " I afterward learned from other sources the further particulars that at the period to which this account of my young friend referred a settlement was rapidly forming on the American shore opposite to this Ca- nadian village, and that the fact that a leading man in the newly rising community, a bachelor and retired officer of the American Revolution, had adopted a boy whose origin was unknown, but who bore the name of a traitor — most odious to all American people — who was evidently not dependent upon his patron for anything but care and direction, set rumor 'with its hundred tongues' busy connecting the youth with the mysteri- ous recluse of the * forest lodge' — as the place was named by the country people — and set all eyes to watching him and his movements for any circumstance that might confirm these suspicions. Hence when it became known that the boy sometimes crossed the river and disappeared with an Indian hunter in the woods, under pretence of hunting the game which abounded there, remaining upon each occasion for some days, it was taken as 'confirmation strong as Holy Writ' of the prevailing conjectures, and he was generally regarded with increased aversion. Despite these unfavorable influences, however, he lived and flourished, became an enterprising, respectable citizen, and a distinguished 1 1 828 The Burgoyne Ballads. f [i r V I officer in the volunteer service during the War of 1812, his zeal and valor in the cause winning for him the public respect and esteem so long unjustly withheld. He married a niece of his benefactor, and they were united in their devotion to the interests and comfort of her uncle in his old age, inheriting a large portion of his estate at his death. " The mystery surrounding the recluse, the problem of his suspected identity with the notorious American traitor, and his possible relationship with the boy in question were never solved. " It continued for many years to be the subject of evening gossip by rural firesides in that region, and strange stories were told by Indian and white hunters and trappers of the startling things they had seen and heard in the vicinity of the lonely cottage — long since fallen into decay — both during the occupancy of its owner and after his disappearance. Whether he died there, or left for some far-off country before his death, was never known." h APPENDIX VII. SKETCH OF GENERAL JOHN WATTS DE PEYSTER. General J. Watts de Peyster, the author of the poems on Oriskany and Saratoga, was born at No. 3 Broadway, in the city of New York, March 9th, 1821. He is the descendant, in direct line, in the seventh generation, of de Peysters who resided in, and in the sixth of those born in, the First Ward of that city ; and through connections by blood and by marriage, his f The Burgoyne Ballads. 829 !' i people filled the highest and most important offices under the Dutch and English or British rule. His mother's father, John Watts (2d), was the last Royal Recorder of the City and the Founder and Endovver of the Leake and Watts Orphan House, to whom the general erected, in 1892, a bronze statue in Trinity Churchyard, which has been pronounced one of the finest in the country and was considered such an admirable specimen of art, that a duplicate was selected and sent to the Centennial Exposition at Chicago. His father, Frederic de Peyster, stood in the highest rank in literature, philanthropy, and usefulness in New York, and it was said of him in published obituaries : " He has probably been connected as an active officer with more social, literary and benevolent societies than any other New Yorker who ever lived." His historical and biographical publications were numerous and valuable, and to sum up, " to him might justly be ap- plied the expressive lines of Tennyson as to what constitutes a gentleman. His son, the subject of this sketch, inherited the literary tastes and industry of his family. He com- menced to write for the public press at eleven, and since that time he has continued to publish works in every literary branch, year by year, ever since he came of age. To a very great extent a firm believer in absolute pre- destination, he claims that, as St. Paul remarks, " what hast thou that thou didst not receive," and as any talent and the power of applying it came from God, from Him came the reward in whatever form conferred. Nevertheless, the general's labors have not been with- out recognition. Although only an officer of Militia, or, as they were afterward styled, " Military Forces of the State 330 The Burgoyne Ballads. 'i / 1/ of New York," now National Guard, his every pro- motion was made especially for "meritorious conduct" or " important services," and after the rebellion he was brevetted Majcr-General State of New York for " meritorious services" by " Special Act," or Concurrent Resolution, New York State Legislature, April, 1866 [first and only general officer receiving such an honor (the highest) from State of New York, and the only officer thus brevetted (Major-General) in the United States]. He represented the State as Military Agent for observation abroad, endorsed in the highest terms by the United States Executive, President Fillmore, and Government Secretaries of State and of War. His Reports on Tactics, Uniform, Organization, Arms, and Armament — Arms and Ordnance — were acknowl- edged to contain " most valuable suggestions" by Jefferson Davis, then Secretary of War, and his collec- tion of Foreign Arms was commended at Washing- ton, whither they were sent, by request, for inspection. His suggestion for the adoption of the twelve-pounder Napoleon-gun several years before its approval by the United States Army Board, his ideas of Uniform and designation of rank were adopted or imitated by the rebel military authorities, and he was one of the first to promote the institution of the Municipal Police, and the substitution for the then existing Volunteer Fire Department of a Paid Organization, with steam fire engines and a fire escape both economical and effec- tive. In recognition of his services as Military Agent of the State of New York in Europe he received an elegant gold medal from Hon. Washington Hunt, Governor of the State of New York, and, by a Special Order, another gold medal was conferred under the same Executive " for zeal, devotion, and meritorious service," and his appointment as Brigadier-General ■aa»«iir TKe Burgoyne Ballads. 331 was the first made by any governor independently and, as stated therein, "for important services." His works on Military History and Criticism have received the highest endorsement even to the extent of the opinion that his judgment in Strategy and Grand Tactics was almost infallible, and his views or ideas on practical strategy elicited from General Sir Edward Cust, B.A., author of " The Annals of the Wars, 1700 to 1715," in eleven volumes, and "Lives of the Warriors, XVHth Century," a "Letter Dedi- catory," dated March, 1869, of 29 pages. He was also the first to demonstrate to the American people the vast influence, in a series of works, volumes, and articles, upon human progress exercised by the Seven United States of Holland, a subject which has latterly been presented in a more popular and digested form by the late Mr. Campbell in his book "The Puritan in Holland, England, and America;" and in a series of centennial articles in the New York Times, New York Mail, and other prominent papers he presented the operations of the Revolutionary War from a point of view based on original authorities, seldom if never consulted, demonstrating errors that should never have occurred and which have become strength- ened by repetition. For a life of the Swedish Field Marshal Torstenson, who may be justly claimed to have decided the result of the Thirty Years' War, and was pronounced by Gustavus Adolphus as his pupil fittest to command his army, or any army, he received three beautiful silver medals from Oscar I., King of Sweden, besides being honored with other badges and insignia for sim- ilar work subsequently done in military, historical, and biographical essays. Many years ago he was invested with the degree of 332 The Biirgoyne Ballads. LL.D., subsequently with that of Master of Arts, Co- lumbia College, and recently with that of Litt.D., Doctor of Letters or Literature (the last a degree conveying highest collegiate distinction, superior to LL.D.), Franklin and Marshall College, corner-stone laid by Benjamin Franklin, 1787; reorganized 1853), Lancaster, Pa., 1892. He is also an honorary member of historical societies too numerous to mention ; and, indeed, since this sketch is in type he has received no- tice of his having been elected Honorary Fellow of the Society of Science, Letters, and Art, of London. Invidious remarks having been made in regard to General De Peyster not going into the field in 1861- 65, the all-sufficient answer is that a soldier to be of any value in active service requires sound health and certainly strong digestion. The famous General Wolfe wrote that he chiefly valued his promotion as general because that rank enabled him to command comforts without which it was impossible in his state of health to perform his duties efficiently. This remark was made at a time when even field officers enjoyed advan- tages now beyond the conceded rights in the field of any but the highest in command. Doctors of the highest abilitv advised him that if he did take the field there was only one chance out of ten of his being able to remain there or of surviving the necessary acclimatization to perform any effectual ser- vice. Nevertheless, he did offer to go more than once, and to furnish admirable troops, or serve in any capacity in which his health would justify the appointment " due to acknowledged ability." He was at one time consid- ered for chief of the personal staff which President Lincoln talked of organizing, until persuaded not to do so for reasons best known to those who combated the idea. The Burgoyne JBcUlada. 833 At the age of eighteen he was seized suddenly with such a peculiar and severe affection of the heart that it was deemed worthy of record in permanent medical reports. The effects of this continued for years. When it ceased to trouble him persistently it was followed by hemorrhages, which drained his life. At one period this continued for six years continuously, and returned from time to time without notice. It did not preclude at times extraordinary temporary activity, if rest, relief, and remedies were possible upon the first symptoms of exhaustion or of the return of heart trouble. It is said that "whoever excuses himself accuses himself," but that man is the worst of fools who is aware of any insuperable obstacle and then undertakes to act against knowledge, when failure will be attributed by mean- ness or injustice to the worst motives or to any but the true cause. His works on military subjects — on the Militia and on the Fire Departments of Europe — are masses of information, whose only fault is concentration. They would make a dozen books, and for this reason have perhaps been more profitable to the fame of those who have subsequently turned them over than to that of the original compiler and author, who, at much per- sonal expense of time and money, collected them during a visit to Europe. They still offer abundant resources for the improvement of our institutions. Nor, have General de Peyster's writings been con- fined solely to works of a military character. Besides biographies of our leading generals, representatives abroad, and other celebrities, he has written and pub- lished a number of others of a high literary character, which have met the approbation of the severest critics and the praise of one of the best judges, the lamented Bryant ; likewise an historical drama, " Bothwell," the i 1 ~r 334 The Burgoyne Ballads. I successful lover and third husband of Mary Queen of Scots, partly in blank verse and partly in prose, which received the following stamp of excellence from Lc Ltvre, the highest literary tribunal : " Magnificent to read although impossible to act" — impossible to act because, as remarked by an experienced stage manager, it required too many first-class actors to fill the lead- ing roles and too expensive or perhaps too difficult scenery to produce and manage. In fact, the list of the general's publications, books, pamphlets, and con- tributions to periodicals fill eleven pages of one vol- ume of the "Bibliography of the American Historical Association" besides a supplementary list in the suc- ceeding volume, and the enumeration is by no means complete. It only remains, in order to fill out and complete this picture, to speak of its subject as a man. In person, General de Peyster is erect in carriage, and bears so much the stamp of a military personage, that a stranger, observing him, would put him down at once as belonging to that profession. In character, notwithstanding his ill-health and his being almost continuously racked with pain, he is eminently genial and possessed of so much bofihoviniic as to make him a most charming companion, and the writer recalls many delightful hours spent with him at his classic country-seat at Tivoli, N. Y.. which overlooks, so to speak, the scene of Sir Henry Clinton's expedition against yEsopus during the Revolution. He possesses, moreover, most endearing and affec- tionate traits, and no one is more charitable to the faults of others than himself. Nor are these charac- teristics confined solely to the human family. His considerate treatment of all dumb animals is remark- able, and a tombstone in his grounds, which com- The Bunjoyne Ballach. 335 P'omptcd it's erection » '"'""'' ""^ ^"'^'^ "''i'-'l' "-ce'^a;°t!;'i!i;s,^^:e;::!'"'^"-'''^'-'--''' ••Jli^i;e.-rit»,seelens,|uepL,rus "" '-■get .nauvis jaculis, necjue arcu." APPENDIX yill. -i^M^-Jr h:,il;,';;:r;,;eV'':f '-■'•■"■!- -^'.n.. the graduated from fVarvL O, t' ■''""^' '""'■ '"4,5. and amons the first cla A| ,H r""' "!■ V"'^-' '"'"« '■">I<''1 thus occur to thrreade r f:,"^ '','.' ''""^^' " "iH called in tradit on i 1 a i'cl, ''^ '''""'."■" '''^ '>« '^ keepin,, with his reii "^^.-aC '"R'ir'h.Vn ''"?">' ''I thcolorry under Rev -Mr ri„.i ,;.'''" '^'"''"''i and was ordained Apri IStl -r ■ "' *^°"'>an>l>lon, ter of Pittsfield lied ' , n r ' t' "L'''"' '"^' "'""«- named i„ honoro V| ,„ P^/"-"',"^^^-"'"'^'' "'as a frontier town, in w d , ' " »l"ch was then luring the Frenc VVar Th, I' n 'l "" ''"' ''=^" '^'-'1« to-c._At_,,KMin^e^;^^^ I'as placed a marl, le ' lal, ov'"'',?'"'''''' '""^'^ '"-■ "'»■ which durin<' lif '^c J, r •' ""^ '"'="'■•''"» of a don- of his .so.cail?d' friend "°'''' '^^""""' "^ '''"' "■^'" """? rn: ' !i» il. i' U 330 2/ie Barijoync JialUuh. field contained hut six lionscs not built of lofjs. He lived to see it a wealthy and heautilul town, with six thousand inhahilanls. In the Revolutionary struirj^le he was an ardent sup- porter of the colcjnies, and twice went out as a volini- teer chaj)lain. Imcjui October 2>^\ until January 2vl, 1776, he was with the army at White Plains, and in June and July, i 'j'j'j, at 'J1condero passed ^omSL James to the Parliament Ilcn.:;;^.!,, a an c Irau'n by six cream-eclored horses, an.l on th s recorded the follouiM,^r n-llections : "This is he W desolated mv cof.my. who rava^red ,|., \„ e, coasts, aun.hnated .un- trade jHnn;;i c.ur ,nv,C dcred our c.ties. sent forth his Indian alhes o' Ic , our w.ves and children, starved our vnu.h in '■son-ships, and caused the expenchuue of a hunaok'Jr-;- The Burgoyne Ballads. 341 twelvemonth old. This civil authority, composed of Vermont men on the ground, was better informed of the plans and movements of Burgoyne than the New Hampshire general just arrived. To them he wisely listened. His own words, written to the Courant at Hartford, Conn., two days after the battle, and printed therein October 7th, 1777, make this point clear. He says : " After my arrival at that place [Manchester, Vt.], I received orders from Major-General Lincoln, pursuant to orders from General Schuyler, to march my whole brigade to Stillwater and join the main army under his command. ... In obedience thereto, I marched with my brigade to Bennington, on my way to join him, leaving that part of the country almost wholly naked to the ravage of the enemy. The Hon- orable the Council then sitting at Bennington were much against my marching with my brigade, as it was raised on their request, they apprehending great danger of the enemy's approaching to that place, which afterward we found truly to be the case." To the failure of Burgoyne to cut oflf New England, then one third of the country, from the rest of the Colo- nies, is ascribed the willingness of France to aid the American cause openly, and thus to secure the inde- pendence of the United States. In achieving this in- dependence, the aid of France is now freely acknowl- edged throughout our country. That of the State of Vermont is also entitled to mention in history ; and in the making of the nation, the work of the patriots of the Catamount Tavern, founders of a State, coming up, as it does, to the measure of Lafayette's love of liberty, ranks higher in the moral scale than that of the enemies of England at Versailles. Ethan Allen lived at Landlord Fay's upon occa- sion, and his name appears in one of Captain Fay's I I !« il 342 The Burgoyne Ballads. account books, still extant in Bennington. The first legislature of Vermont sat here. Here, in 1778, David Redding was tried as a traitor " for enemical conduct" and was hanged. A peculiarity of the trial was that only six jurors sat. The Governor and Council there- upon ordered a new trial, and thus disapn«^!ntcd the excited patriots who had assembled to witness the execution. Whereupon Ethan Alien assured them that the proceeding was strictly lav/ful, and that after the new trial if Redding were not hung he would " be hung himself." To designate the spot wheje the famous tavern stood, the pedestal of a monument has been placed in position, to be surmounted by a bronze catamount, though with his wrinkled visage smoothed, for after more than a century the war between the Green Mountain Boys and the Yorkers is over. Vermont is a result of that war ; the combatants com.promised their differences ; the fourteen-year-old State was ad- mitted to the Union ; the Catamount Tavern, for over twenty years a "lively" inn, subsided to the humdrum occupation of furnishing entertainment for man and beast, coming in large numbers from the less favored parts of New England to this no longer turbulent land of promise ; peace reigned, and as of old out of the strong came forth sweetness. APPENDIX X. THE CORRECT SPELLING OF BEMUS. Probably no question in onnection with Bur- goyne's campaign has given rise .3 so much discussion as that concerning the spelling of the name of that old V The Burgoyne Ballads. 843 settler who kept a tavern on the river-road from Schuylerville to Albany, and from whom the Heights near him took their name. By Burgoyne's chief engineer, in his maps of the two actions (September 19th and October 7th, 1777), and by different histo- rians the name has been spelled in as many ways as there have been writers on our Revolutionary history — Bemis, Bremis, Braemus, Behmus, Behmis, Bemcse and Beemis being the most common. By a letter, however, which I received some years since from that distinguished antiquarian and local historian, Mr. B. B. Burt, of Oswego, N. Y., I am finally enabled to settle this much-mooted point. Mr. Burt's Letter. "Oswego, April 22, 188 T. " Mr. W. L. Stone. "Dear Sir: Rev. Samuel H.Adams, a gentleman and a scholar, spent a few days with me the last week, and I learned from him that he was a descendant of the Bemus from whom the Heights of Revolutionary fame were named ; and inasmuch as I knew that the name had been used and spelled in different ways, I asked him to note what he knew about it on the next page. I send you his statement. Truly yours, " B. B. Burt." Rev. Samuel H. Adams's Statement. " My grandmother and her brothers, who were the children of the Mr. Bemus from whom the Heights were named, always spelled their name Bemus, and she was quite disturbed that the error of Bemis should so commonly appear. " She married Daniel Crawford, Saratoga Springs, , I I ■A \\ - 4- :■■ ^ i; I fiy su The Burgoyne Ballads. and was for many years the oldest person in Saratoga County. [Was this Crawford the one mentioned in Mr Huling's 'Reminiscences of Saratoga Fifty Years Ago ? ' — W .L. S.] Her brother moved to Chau- tauqua County, and Bemus Point, on Chautauqua Lake, was named from him. " All his descendants in that county spell the name Bemus, and will on no account spell it otherwise. Another, Matthew Pendergrass ^^w«j, was a member of the New York Assembly from 1868 to 1872 inclu- sive. Samuel H. Adams. 'April 18, 1881." To give, however, all the data on this much-mooted point, the Saratoga Sentiiiel, in reply to the foregoing, printed the following : " In our investigations we have found that Mr. Adam Snyder, of this village, now over seventy years old, lived with John Bemis, who died in this town in 1829. Mr. Snyder spells the name just as we have given it, and says that is the proper way. He does not know the exact relationship of John Bemis of this town to the Stillwater family, but says that he thinks he was a nephew of the owner of the famous Heights. He knows he was a brother of Mrs. Daniel Crawford, whose name is mentioned above, and tells us that he remembers distinctly that Mr. Bemis purchased fifty acres of land on the south bounds of the village (being the Crawford Tavern, alluded to by Mr. Stone), about the year 1826, paying $1000 therefor. Mr. Crawford had become somewhat embarrassed by reason of giving surety for a man, and his brother-in-law, John Bemis, bought the place for him on that account. John Bemis died childless in 1829, as above noted. The different branches of the same family vary in spelling The Bxirgoyne Ballads. 345 their name sometimes, and it may be the parties referred to by Messrs. Burt and Hall have done so, and now claim it to be the original. " Since writing the foregoing we have conversed with C. E. Durkee, Esq., on the subject. Mr. Durkee has a taste for genealogical studies and has many books on the subject, among them a history of Watertown, Mass., wherein it is stated that the Bemis who settled in this county emigrated from Watertown, and while the members of the family are said to have spelled their name variously, Bemis is given as the prevailing and most usually adopted way." In answer to this last, from the Saratoga Sentinel, I append the following, which, I think, conclusively settles the question. However, I give all the data on this much-vexed question, and our readers must judge for themselves : Some More Light on the Old .Settler Bemus. To the Editor of the " Saratogian" Sir : Since sending you the communication in re- gard to the spelling of the name of Bemus, Rev. Mr. Adams — the grandson of Bemus — has written the following note to Mr. B. B. Burt, of Oswego, called forth by the publication of his letter to Mr. Burt, in the Saratogian of the 5th inst. I give herewith his letter. W. L. Stone. Jersey City Heights, May 12. Clifton Si'RINgs, N. Y., May 9. B. B. Burt, Oswego, N. V. Dear Friend : . . . I regret that so little infor- mation of the old settler, Jotham Bemus, is in my possession. Beyond the facts that he was born about ^\ 346 The Burgoyne JBallada. '^% V,: It 1' r.* 1738, married Tryphena Moore, was a fanner occu- pying the Heights (called after him), and kept for many years a tavern (the most popular for many years between Fort Edward and Albany) near the Heights ; that he was in easy financial circumstances and was engaged extensively in buying cattle ; that he was stoutly built and energetic in all he did ; that he died in 1786, leaving four children, viz.: William, Jotham, John and Sally ; aside from this outline I know but little. I may be able to gather something more from my aunt, Mrs. Martha B. Hall, whose husband (formerly of Saratoga Springs), Ezra Hall, is the proprietor of Bemus Hotel, Evansville, Ind. Mr. Crawford was fifty years ago owner and proprietor of what was then known as " Highland Hall," which was a little out from Saratoga village, on the Dunning Street road south. William, the oldest son of this old settler, Jotham Bemus, was born at Bemus Heights in 1 762 ; married Mary Pendergast, 1782; settled in Pittston, Rensse- laer County, and removed thence in 1802. My grandmother, Sally Bemus Crawford, was born at Bemus Heights in May, 1768, and removed from Saratoga Springs with Mr. and Mrs. Hall to Indiana in 1864. She has spent hours telling me of " Burgine" and his army, which she saw ; of the burning of her father's house by the British, and of the sufferings of the family for a time while they were wintering in a barn — Burgoyne having destroyed all their buildings and crops. Sincerely yours, S. H. Adams.* * In this letter of Mr. S. H. Adams he is hardly correct in one statement — at least, such is the infer- j.m^.r'S^-r^i^- Jk^^agBsajSMM^S The £urg,jyne Ballads. 34- The Correct Orthography of the Great Battlf Ground. In addition to the letters in fhp l^cf n whose name it received UsTocal deta^^o'n "W.T^ to this place several y4rs s^ce ■• "/rh '' iT M?'' Democrat. Friday, May ,3, iSsT) ^ '"°" Bemus or Bemis. settled at what is .\. knoTn'I; Bemus P^t" "°'' / , h 348 M m The Burgoyne Ballads. methods of spelling the name of the man from whom one of the great revolutionary battlelicMs took its principal name, and gave evidence why we considered Bonis the more authentic orthography than Bcvius. Our authorities then were verbal. Now we have the following extract from an obituary notice published in the Saratoga Sentinel of September i5lh, 1829, as evidence to the contrary spelling : " Died, in this towii, on the eighth instant, Mr. John Bemus, in the sixty-sixth year of his age. Mr. 13. was born on the farm comprising the celebrated Bemus' Heights, which was owned by his father, and from whose name it received its local designation. Thcnigh young, he was in the American service at the capture of Burgoyne, as a teamster, and continued to reside on the consecrated soil of his father until his removal to this j)lace several years since." Thi" would seem to be a settler against any bare recollection, such as we gave last week, but we have still further evidence on the same side. In the surro- gate's office we find the record of the will of this John Bemus, drawn probably by Judiah Ellsworth, who, together with Samuel Chapman and John II. Steel (all of them leading citizens of this town), sign the same as witnesses, and the name is spelled Bcinus in the body of the will and also in what purports to be the signature. But to show how officials vary, we will say that we found the name spelled Bcniis in the index of the will, apjiarently made a few years since. Our conclusion is then that Jicnins was the orthog- raphy preferred by those of the name who resided here- abouts, and we shall use it hereafter, while we have no doubt that the spelling preferred by the old settlers of Watertown, Mass., from whence the family emigrated, Vi I, •rsz — . . -'-•v.^V. *- The nurgot/ne Jiullufh. 34(* was /I cmis, as ^riven in the hist referred to last weel ory u{ Watertowi W ^ niay add that from the will <,f John Hcnus 1 would ;,i.])ear to have been ([uite a well-i,,-d lie ^rave one half his property to I Crawlord, (lividin,//; gives the name as Solomon K. 1 las '>!nii red book, giving the list of >em/j name IJemw., as d Tl postmasters, sj.ells tlu le oi "hcial ijostal guide spells it 13 oes the Argus Almanac, and tl iem/,^ If le spice of life, certainly Solomon ~K B gives us j.lenty in the si)elling of 1 variety is the *^n\!s-ns-K^s-is lis name. ('Ihe Saratoga Sentinel, Thursday, May ,9th. ,881!) APPENDIX XI. AUSTIN W. IIOLDEX, M.\), Bv James H. IIoldkx. Austin Wells FIoldex, A.M., M.D., historian na triot and litterateur, was born in the town ohvhite Creel Washni^ton County, N. V., May r6th, i.Stc, H^ eaily education was acquired at the St. Lawrence ■1 350 fl 77ic liH/yoi/nr Jidlhidti. ! ' I 111 H Academy, Potsdam. X. \. In iS3^ his fat her icmovcd to (/lens |"all, N. \ ., where the suhjt'cl of this sketch heijan the ^tudv 'if law with the I lonorahle WiUiam I lav, a noted lawver .md writer of that ^\.\\. Ohlitred, lor |)ecimiai\' reasons, to rehnt/uisli this j)rofession, he entered his lather's cahinel-shop. where he remained until his iwentN'-second vear. Durintji^ this linie he studied diliijfcntly the works of ancient and modern writers, and ahonl iS.|i hei^ran the- ^tudv ol niediciiu'. A little later he enleii'd the Alhanv Medical Collene, from which he iment, I J ..» ! i Til, Jlitrfjnijnc ll(tf!.i,I.ecc.ved a commission as hrrvcl maj„r trom (luvcnior Fentnn Rr\ 111 uinniM liomc. he resumed ■-;.( .lH-.Sl.,lcll,.,n..„|,;,c|,ic .M„,i,'.al,S, . . , ; •■'■A 'l.",„u ,1,, ,„u,sc .,f his mr,nl,.,.|,lp iiK- , 1 ■;,. " f ■ens,., v„v-|„c.si,len,. prcsidnu : ,'..., ,:r 1^,9 111- u-.is rrainimriulcl i;„- and r,-ciiv,.,l ti, i, ;":i;;''n';;^"'' '!■''■'■'•'•'''- '^'--'' '^^ \ V V, ^^^".''-^ ''^1^""! "->>"■. opalliic I l„s|,l,,,l at jx-ilec an C. \\ . "mi K, rcsio-n. He was a lilc-lonn- i k,,„.^,,,, •;>'! -n is;4 was elected to the As.cml.lv In, n ■ 1' C-untv. which is ^ strongly Repnl.licanln'^ml::':,;^ •\"<^'<1 lor (heir liheralitv and I -1 ..:.o,s i„ ,,,e ,,,,;;:;■ 1';:;^:-;^-;;;- ■fui in ascu,,,,. fro,,, „|,|ivi„„ „„„, ,,,,,,;;, ';' 352 The Burgoyne Ballads. I ■ h would have been irremediably lost. His chief and lasting monument, which will bear his name down to posterity, is a work entitled " A History of Queens- bury, N. Y.," which covers an important era and sec- tion of country in relation to American history. In recognition of his literary abilities, he received, in addition to the honorary degree of Master of Arts already mentioned, appointments as corresponding member of the Oneida County, the New York, Wis- consin and Rhode Island Historical societies, and the New York and New England Genealogical and Biographical societies. His most iccent historical work was the " History of Jane McCr a," which ap- peared in the local press, and which he '/as getting in readiness to publish in book-form. He left a valuable collection of mss. and historical miscellany, which will prove treasure-trove to some future historian. In January, 1891, Dr. Holden's wife died suddenly. For some months the doctor had been in feeble health. He sank under the additional blow, till death relieved him of the cares and troubles of this life. He fell asleep on July 19th, 1891, and his funeral was largely attended by the various societies to which he belonged, the services being under Masonic auspices. A local paper writes his epitaph as follows: " A patriot and philanthropist was laid at rest yesterday, when the remains of Dr. A. W. H olden were consigned to mother earth. He was an extensive writer and the author of valuable local histories. He was a kind- hearted, genial gentleman and a practical Christian always. Peace to his ashes." •m^SE" tXit: ^•.,i.;*«>« vj--.-t'::mTKmr.~ BURGOYNE INDEX. Acland, Lady Harriet, 150, 186, 271, 303. Adams, John, 89. Alexander, James, 9. Allen, Ethan, 220. Allen, Parson Thomas, 225, 227. Allen, Joseph, 238. Allen's History, quoted, 256. Anthony, Walter, 42, Arnold, Gen., 57, 83, 88, 132. Au ringer. Rev. O. C, Sketch of, 134. Ayers, Robert, 190. Ballads and Poems : Burgoyne's Proclamation, 7- The Progress of Sir Jack Brag, 27. Burgoyne's Defeat. 29. The Fate of John Bur- goyne, 32. The Capture at Saratoga, 36. I Burgoyne's Advance and Fall, ^S. St. Clair's Retreat and Burgoyne's Defeat, 41. The Fall of Burgoyne, 48. An Answer for the Mes- sengers of the Nation, 49. The First Chapter of the Lamentations of Gen eral Burgoyne, 52. A Dialogue between Col. Paine and Miss Clo- rinda Fairchild, 60. A Short Review of Bur- goyne's Expedition, 62. Four Burgoyne Epigrams, 66. The Halcyon Days of Old England, 69. Two Burgoyne Letters, 71. An Old Verse, j^. Epitaph, 74. Merz Kater, y^. To the Relics of my Brit- ish Grenad'er, 75. l.,.-"'J.JUl»CT ^nvBK^mmmmsa ■HP 354 Burgoyne In'hx. m It IK I,' I fl' I' I (, Burgoyne's Defeat, An Ancient Ditty, 80. The North Campaign, 86. The Carpet Knight, 93. The Church and King Club, 97. Satirical Verses in Honor of Sir John Burgoyne, 99. Song of a Wagoner in Gates's Arrrjy, 105. The Restored Captain, 106. The Burial of Gen. Fraser, 114. The Burial of Gen. Fra- ser, No. 2, 118. The Burial of Gen. Fra- ser, No. 3, 119. Fra- Jane The Burial of Gen. ser, No. 4, 124. The Episode of McCrea, 134. Jane McCrea, 176. Jane McCrea, 186. KcHections at the Grave of Jane McCrea, 194. Jane McCrea, 195. The Tragical Death of Miss Jane McCrea, 201. Jane McCrea, 203. Lines on Jane McCrea, 205. Oriskany, 208. Die Schlacht von Oris- kany, 210. Paean to Oriskany, 2 1 2. Ode on the Battle of Bennington, 215. The Battle of Bennington, 218. The Battle of Benning- ton, 219. Ode on the Veterans of the Battle of Benning- ton, 224. Parson Allen's Ride, 225. Hymn on the Battle of Bennington, 228. The Battle of Benning- ton, 229. Song about Bennington, 233- A Story of Bemus Heights, 234- Poem on the occasion of Battle of Bemus Heights, 236. Poem on Saratoga, by Alfred B. Street, 243. The Surrender of Bur- goyne, 254. The Field of the Ground- ed Arms, Saratoga, 264. Saratoga, 268. The Star-Spangled Ban- ner by Butler, 273. Ballston Spa., 190. .v.... Burgoxjne Index. 355 Balcarras, Lord, Sketch of. Zl- Bancroft, George, 236. Barlow, Joel, Sketch of, 203. Barton, William, 26. Battenkill, 63. Bauman, Col. Sebastian, 101. Bedlovv, Hon. Henry, 134. Belden, B. L., 6 ; Sketch of, 10 1. Bemus Heights, Battle of, 3, 241. Bemus, The Correct Spelling, 342. Bennington, 29, 56, 215, 216, 224, 230, 234. Bess, Queen, 227. Bliss, Charles M., 226. Boies, Lura A., Sketch of, 1 19, 176. Booth Bros., 12. Botta, Anna C, 224. Bouquet River, 44. Boyd, Lieut. Thos., 293. Brown, Col. John, 36. Brunswickers, 57. Bruce, Wallace, Sketch of, 225. Brooks, Col., Sketch of, 89. Brudenell, Parson. 112. Bryant,WilliamC., Sketch of, 218. Bull Run, 255. Bunker Hill, 2, 23, 92, '»o6. Burgoyne, Gen., Sketch of, I, 16, 21. Burgoyne, Sir John, 7. Butler, B. C, 273. Butler, Col. Wm., 293. Butler, Prof J. D., 66. Canning, E. W. B., 75, 234. Carey, Henry, 4. Carlton, Gen., 2,37,68, 69. Carnarvon, Earl of, 186. Case, Rev. W., 41. Catamount Tavern, 225. Caulfield, Miss Susan, 6. Champlain, Lake, 2, 34,59. Chapin, Rev. E. H., 215. Cilley, Col., 234. Clinton, Sir Henry, 2, 22, 256. Cobble Hill, 23. Cochran, Deacon Isaac,67. Coldstream Guards, i. Collins, Isaac, 67. Columbiad, a Poem, 204. Commercial A dvcrtiser, n8. Copwell, Rev., 236. Cook, Col. Thaddeus, 84. Cook, Mrs. Rachel A., 190. Cook, Ransom, 190. Cooper, James Fen i more, 252._ Council of Safety, 220, 252. 356 Burgoyne Index. if I V * i Cummings, Rev. Hooper, 132. Craig, Capt, 69. Crandall, Chas., 268. Crown Point, 2. Davidson Sisters, 120. Dearborn, Gen., ^y. De Peyster, Gen., 5 7, 208, 254. 263. Derby, Earl of, i. Dieskau, Gen., yj. Dinsmore, Robert, 62. Disney, A., 68. Drake, J. R., 264. Duluth,a Half Breed, 130. Dwight, Pres., 9, 105. Dwight, Theodore, 124. Edwards, Ed.. 66. Evarts, Hon. Wm. M., 227. Evening Post, N.Y., 218, 264. Fay, Dr. J., 220. Fay, Stephen, 220. Fellows, Gen., 253. Fitzgerald, Lord, 224. Fish Creek, 28. Fort Anne, 2, 261. Fort Edward, 2, 29, 59, 120, 130, 189, 256. Fort Edward Institute, 196. Fort Independence, ;6. Fort Hardy, 253, 256. Fort Miller, 63. Fort Plain, 196. Fort Ticonderogu, 2, 34, 43. 53. 255- Fort William Henry, 255. Eraser, Gen., 18, 38, 63, II I. Freeman's Farm, Battle of, 257. Freneau, Philip, 38. Gaine, Hugh, 67. Gates, Gen., 3, 18, 29, 53, 88, 125, 256, 291. George III., 4, 23. George IV., 55. George, Lake, 56, 75,252. Germaine, Lord George, 113- Glens Falls, N. Y., 134. Golden Hill, Battle of, 67. Gordon, Rev. Wm., 262. Great Barrington, 218. Greeley, Horace, 215. Griswold, Rev. R., 27. Hale, Mrs. Sarah J., 205. Halifax, 16. Halleck, Fitz-Greene, 264. Hamilton, Alex., 6, 38. Hastings, Warren, 6. Hay, Hon. Wm., 120. Hayes, Pres. R. B., 229. Herbert, Wm., 186. J«l«M«l»l»wl«'lfc ,,-l»9»?»-. Burgoyne Index. 357 Herkimer, Gen., 36, 256. Hilmer, Chas. D., 264, Holden, Dr., Sketch of, 349- Holden, James H., 349. Hoosic Falls, 230. Horicon (Lake George), 252. Hoyt, Gen. E., 302. Jefferson, Thos., 39. Jennings, Rev., 216. Johnson, Sir William, 28, 89, 108. Jones, David, 128, 190. Jordan, J. W., 75. King, Rev. Jos. E., 195. Knox, Gen., 18. Kosciusko, Gen., 132. Lamb, Col. Anthony, lOI. Lebanon, 74. Lee, Gen. Chas., 8, 186. Le Loup, a Wyandotte Chief, 130, 190. Lexington, Battle of, 67. Liancourt, Duke de, 258. Liberty Boys, 67. Lincoln, Gen., 93. Lincoln, Pres., 206. Livingston, Gen., 8. Locke, Hon. S. D., 230. Lossing, B. J., 26, 56. Maccaroni Club, 20. Markham, J. C, 51, 71. Marvin, James M., 57. McCrea, Jane 128, 204, 206. McCrea, John, 128. McCrea, Rev., M., 202. McNeil, Mrs., 130. Meal Market, 67. Mohawk River, 2. Montgomery, Gen., 25, 128. Montreal, 25. Morgan, Gen., 2, 18, 112, 293- Moses Kill, 132. Mount Defiance, 87. MunscU, Joel, 220. Murphy, " Tim," 19, 290. Newbury, Jeremiah, 268. New Amsterdam, 257. No well, Garrett, 67. Oriskany, Battle of, 255, 261. Page, Elizabeth, 232. Paterson, 'j'j. Peck, Rev. J. T., 195. Phillips, Gen., 34. Pittsfield, 220. Poor, Gen., ']']. Posey, Maj., 293. Post, Daniel H., 347. 358 Burgoyne Index. »: +.. V'.i I Ui Prescott, Gen., 25. Prior, Matthew, 23. Prison Ship, 38. Poultney Academy, 195. Pullman, George M., 57. Putnam, Gen., 16. Quaker Springs, N. Y., 64. Raleigh, Sir Walter, 23. Ramsey, quoted, 56. Rawdon, Lord, 15. Riedesel, Mrs. Gen., 6, 24, 130, 186. Rivington, James, 96. Rodman, Rev. Thomas P., 229. Rogers, Gen. Horatio, /• ^'3- SanJv Hill, N. Y., 120, 189. Saratoga I.ke, 28. Saratoga .Map, 57, 114, 231. Saratoga Monument, 12, 104, 244. Schuyler, Gen. Philip, 29, 56, 88, 255, 258. Schuyler Mills, 63. Schuyiersville, N. Y^ 128. Shay, Dan, 78. Skene, Philip, 29, 5':, 72. Skeneshorough (White- hall, N. Y.), 16, 56, 129. Smith, William, o. Society Library, N. Y., 9. Stanley, Lady, 1 . Stansbury, 93. Stark, Gen., 2 1 7, 227, 228, 241. Stark, Molly, 217, 222, 226. St. Clair, Gen., 34, 43. 87, 88. Steadman, quoted, 84. Steuben, Gen., 92. Stevens, Col., 88. St.Leger, Gen., 89, 256. Stockbridge Indians, 75. Stone, Mrs. Charles, 133. Stone's " Orderly Book of Sir John Johnson," 257. Street, Albert 13., 243. Strong, Capt. John, 220. Strong, Catherine, 220. Sugar Loaf Hill, 43. Taylor, Rev. H. 13., 196. Three Pi vers, 37. Trumbull, J., 15, 34, 43, 87. Union Cemetery, Sandy Hill, N. Y.. 1^0. Union College, 236. Van Doren, Rev. D., 254. ■iMiii V i li ii laiiiMii I ' ti lln i 'r"" *^** -\n .- II, Burgoyne Index. 351) V'an Vccton, Col., 347. Washington, Gen., 16, vValloomsack, 231. VValdenburg, J. F., 219. Walworth, Mis. E. 11., 57. Walpolc, Horace, 68, 69. Walpole, Robert, 68. Warren, Gen., 219. Wayne, Gen., 88. Williams, Roger, 26S. Williams, Col. E., 75. Williams, Rev. S., 65. Wilkes, John, 23. Wilson, Gen. Jas. G., 264. Yankee Doodle, Origin of, 20, 60. ERRATA. P^Re 37, 5th line from bottom, for "Thompson" read Thomas. Page 96, 3d line from bottom, for "mind," read wind. Page 102, last line, for " is" read are. Page 113, 2d line Irom bottom, for " Ropes," read Rogers. Page 114,3d line from top, for "Lilliman," read Silliman. Page 188, last line, for " Appendix No. III.," read Appendix No. X. Page 258, 7th line from bottom, for " contemplat- ed," read [)rcscnt. ^''<-'^g^ 335. /tb line from top, for " mauvis," read Mauris. Page 349, 7th line from top, for " Lucratia," read Lucretia. y