ILF 20. MUNRO & CO., 137 WILLIAM ST., N. Y. C, H. Uuinby, Wheeling, Virginia. To be Issued July MUNRO S TEN CENT NOVEL, No. 70. TJ333 FENIAN FORTUNE-TELLER |> Salt of t|t Ivislj lUplilir. BY THE AUTHOR OP "MAD MIKE," " MKXICAN JOE," ETC., ETC. MAD NANCY is a capital story, ami displays in tlio author a thorough knowledge of the characters he describes. 1 le is intimately acquainted with all the internal workings of the Fenian leaders, and depicts in glowing colors the dangers to which they exposed them selves and their hair-breadth escapes from the same. Mad Nancy, whose madness was more assumed than real, was in reality a repos itory of all the secrets of the Brotherhood, and when telling the for tunes of her customers, she managed to get possession of all the secrets of the enemies of the cause. She used admirable lael in con cealing not only the secrets but the persons of the friends who fled to her for shelter. She was perfect Mistress of the Harp, and en tranced her hearers by singing old Irish ballads. As a novel, this is sure to be successful. It will give an insight into many of the secret workings of the Irish patriotic uprising, which has made itself felt over both continents. Some of the characters are already known to history, but they will bear being repeated in this form. The Books are for sale, by all News Agents and Booksellers, and are sent, post-paid, on receipt of piice lOc. each. GEORGE MUNRO & Go,, Publishers, 137 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y. BALLADS REVOLUTION. By J. C. HAGKEN, AUTHOR CF "THE FOOTPRINTS OF TRUTH." ; Neto Yorfe: GEORGE MUNRO & CO." PUBLISHERS, 137 WILLIAM STEEET. ENTERED according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by GEORGE MUNEO & CO., in the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern District of New York, . - CONTENTS. BARD OF ELD, THE , BATTLE OP THE BEES, THL- DEATH OF GENERAL WARREN HESSIAN WOMAN IN BURGOYNE S CAMP, THE. JOHN HARPER. LTDIA DARRAH ; How SHE SATED THE AMERICAS ARMY Miss LANGSTON MRS. POND S HASTY-PUDDING PARTY MRS. VAN ALSTINE OLD FORT LEE HOMESTEAD, THE " OLD PUT S " HIDE PATRIOTISM OP MRS. MOTT ROBERT BRICE. , RODGER BELLJ on, THE JERSEY PRISON-SHIP...... M133163. PREFACE. Tlie author of Tinis little volume was prompted to his. task .by the belief that, in rendering into -familiar verse, some of the many instances of individual courage, hero ism, and self-sacrifice with which our revo lutionary history abounds, he would be do ing a not unwelcome service to the juvenile portion of the community. In the composition of these ballads he has adhered as closely as possible to the histori cal facts, believing that any attempt at em bellishment would only detract from the in terest of the narrative. How far he has succeeded in his under taking is for the public to judge. BALLADS OF THE ,REyOIJJTION. I knew a bard, an ancient bard, With head as white as snow, Who sang to me the days of eld The days of long ago J His eyes were dim, his palsied hand No more the pen could hold ; And I for him did write his words As they to me were told. Full many a weary march he had, And stubborn fight gone through, Ard loved to dwell upon the past, As most old people do. * I sing," he said, ** the good old days The days of long ago ; But mong those good old days, I wot Were many days of woe : r r "With scenes of terror, scenes of joy, And deeds of daring brave And some of these perhaps my words May from oblivion save." He sleeps in peace, the goo old man, His grave is near the tree, Within whose shade his fav rite seat In summer used to be. BALLAEXS OF THE INVOLUTION. Men have mounted wild steeds, and escaped with their lives. Holding on without bridle or check ; , But who ever took such a dare-devil ride As the ride of Old Put at Horseneck 1 With a handful of men, on the brow of the hill (An hundred and fifty all told), His post against Tryon s o erwhelming" force, Putnam saw t would be madness to hold. And Tryon exultingly thought of his scheme, For nothing on earth seemed more sure ; He fancied he d caught the old for in a trap, And haaten d his prize to secure. " Save yourselves in yon swamp," said Old Put to his men ; " No horseman will follow you there ; When they corns after me I shall show them a trick Let them follow my lead if they dare." 44 They think they have got me, the rascals," he said, As the foemen came dangerously near ; " Pretty small is the chance in the front, it is true, And it looks rather black in the rear." BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. So steep was the hillside it seemed like a wall Stone steps rising shelf over shelf; To descend it on foot was no holiday feat On horseback was madness itself. On on came the troopers almost in his face The sword of the foremost one flashed ; When spurring his charger he waved them adieu ! And over the precipice dashed. The hoofs of the horse striking fire as he went, T was a sight one may not often behold ; The horse and the rider, so much seeming one, Might have passed for a centaur of old. " He has dashed out his brains!" said the troopers, aghast ; And they sprang to, the hillside his corpse to be hold; But what do they see ? On the plain at their feet He is galloping off, the old warrior bold. They fired their carbines, they shouted, they swore ; Then wheeling about round the hill sought the plain ; But all to no purpose the start was too great And firing and cursing and riding were vain. With a ball through his beaver old Putnam sped on, His foes all left far in the rear While Tryon rode back without catching the fox, And with only &flea in his ear. 10 BALLADS OF T REVOLUTION. A LEGEND OP SOUTH CAROLINA. No chieftain s prowess do I laud, No statesman s glories sing ; But to a noble-hearted girl My humble tribute bring. T was when old South Carolina Felt the Briton s scourging hand, And Tory bands, like hungry wolves, Went prowling through the land. When the Bloody Scout* were ravaging The country far and wide, And their ruthless hands laid desolate Full many a fireside. J . . 0, many a deed of bravery By woman then was done, > vo That would have for the noblest man - j A wreath of glory won. Miss Langston is the daughter Of an aged patriot sire, And her own generous bosom glows With all a patriot s fire. *Tho Bloody Scout was an organized band of Tories, \r committed fearful depreciations at that time. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 11 Her brother, with a faithful band, Lies many miles away The Bloody Scout have vowed their doom Before another day. And she, tho dark and drear the night. To all her friends unknown, To warn them of the threatened harm, Has left her homo alone. Through wood and vale sho wends her way, Through mire and tangled grass, Through many a swollen rivulet, And many a deep morass. The Tiger is a raging stream, Its waters deep and wide, And there *s no bridge or ferryboat For those who cross the tide. f3[ But she must reach the other side, And hurry on her way ; For life and de^ath are in her handa, And she may not delay. Neck deep in water now she gains The middle of the tide So dark the night she cannot see The shore on either side. A while bewildered now she stands, Her courage almost fled When putting up a prayer to Heaven She walks with firmer tread. 12 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. Tho safe upon the other side, The journey still is long ; But what cares she for weary miles, Whose faith and hope are strong ? Tbo* cold and wet, unfalt ringly She stoutly presses on ; And with delight the patriot camp She reaches ere the dawn. 11 Now haste, ye gallant men," sne said, " And bid the country rise ; The Bloody Scout are on their way - To take you by surprise !" 41 With toilsome marching day and night, We re weary," said the men ; " And we require both food and rest Ere setting out again." Then, wet and weary as she was, " Not long," exclaimed the maid, " If I your breakfast may prepare, Your march shall be delayed !" Then quickly, at the maiden s wish, The golden meal was brought ; . And quickly, by her fair white hands, Was into hoecake wrought. The men from off the cottage roo The boards for fuel take The blazing embers speedily The ready hoecake bake. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 13 And every man within his pouch A goodly portion stow d To rousts the country, far and near, Is soon upon the road. And all the country, far and near, Did at their, bidding rise ; And t was the Bloody Scout that day Were taken by surprise ! tyrofl* kfnu *. a// - >-4M^_ - :)r> T ^ __ ^ 0, daring may the soldier be, By Glory s call inspired ; But braver is the woman s heart By love and duty fired ! 44 On Fish Creek Burgoyne waB lying/* Said the hoary bard of eld ; " His host, already in their camp, As prisoners we held. . The fever raged among his men, And thirst and famine dread (0, may you never know the want Of water and of bread !) 14 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. It must have been a fearful state, \ , A Without a drop to drink I Though lying, as they were, almost Upon the river s brink. . On one hand tho the Hudson broad Displayed its glassy tide, And Fish Creek s sparkling waters bright Foamed on the other side. Yet seldom to the guarded shores The British soldiers came Too many, to their cost, had learned Our rifle s deadly aim ! But, trusting to our gallantry, The women, now and then, Would fearlessly approach the fihore,^ So dreaded by the men. P& f O Yet little water could they get, For, tho unharmed were they, Their pails we riddled with our shot, And frightened them away. But oe poor Hessian woman came, Who seemed oppressed with woe- She had a wounded husband, And we let her come and go. We let her pass unnoticed quite, For all her story knew ; And who could think of harming one So loving and so true? BALLADS OP THE REVOLUTION. 15 She came not when the others came, Nor withva pail* as they ; She brought an earthen pitcher, And filled it twice a day. The bank was sloping where she came, And open to the view ; And well do I remember The last pitcherful she drew. T was before Burgoyne s surrender, A day or two at most, And hope had long departed from The leader and his host This poor woman, unmolested, Sought the stream as heretofore; And with the sparkling 1 water Had her pitcher filled once more. We had with us one Ben Barlow, Better known among the men, From his swaggering and boasting, By the name of fioarting Ben. "You sec that woman there," said Ben; " I 11 bet, from where I stand, I ll shatter with a rifle ball The pitcher in her hand !" Shame ! shame !" we shouted, * peril not The life of one so kind : But wait until your boasted aim A fitter mark shall find." 16 BALLADS OF TH2 REVOLUTION. * Well may you grieve, my comrades brave," He answered snceringly, 44 If that old woman chance to losa A bit of creokery !" Then he raised his gun and fired, Ere we hi* arm could stay ; The woman fell without a groan, And by the water lay ! Now crawling to the river s brink, Her husband met our view His arms about his murdered wife In agony he threw. There both, as if in Death s embrace, Upon the shore they lay, Until their pitying comrades came And carried them away. No shot we fired at them now, But sorrowing looked on ; And when we sought for Boasting Ben, We found that he was gone ! Contempt, he knew, had been his lot, If he had dared to stay ; And he has never since been seen, Or heard of, from that day ! BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 17 A LEGEND OP SCHOHARIE. Schoharie s hills and valleys Are in their brightest sheen, The suranier sun is setting On hill and valley green. But why such anxious faces Amid a scene so fair ? What means on yonder hillside The crowd that gathers there ? Is that the brave John Harper On yonder gallant steed ? Hit is ! it is !" the people shout, * God sends him in our need. * Up to the crowd John Harper Rode leisurely along 41 What means," he said, alighting^ " This terror-stricken throng ?" 44 Look ! look !" they answered, pointing To the smoke on every hand. 44 Behold our dwellings, fired By some prowling savage band." 44 Tis that Tory thief, McDaniel,"* tgq Muttered Harper, 4 * at his sport, And my name is not John Harper If his visit be not short." * A noted Tory leader of tlie tJiae. 18 BALLADS OP THE REVOLUTION. Then, vaulting in bb saddle, Not another word he said* Save, ** I am for Schenectady, Whence I shall bring you aid." "Now heed thec well, John Harper,? 7 Each anxious matron cried, 41 For savage. foci are lurking In thy path n every side/*: nO He staid not for their warning, For thanks he did not stay, Before their words could reach him He was dashing on his way. A beast of better mettle Did never man bestride, And tho* through paths by foes beset, Thou st many miles to ride. With pistols at thy girdle, And rifle on thy arm. Bold will he be, John Harper, Who dares to do thee harm. But night lowers, dark and gloomy, And man and beast must rest, Yon roadside inn must hold to-night No very welcome guest. Well did John Harper know his host A secret foo to be, But far too cunning to betray His enmity was he. BALLADS OP THE REVOLUTION. 19 With doors and windows bolted well, With, arms prepared for need, His open, or his secret foes, Not much did Harper heed. But hark to smothered voices " Beware ! my friends, beware ! T is certain death to him who first Puts foot upon the stair. The man is armed and daring, Tho six stout men you be ; He has within his keeping The lives, at least, of three." The men the warning heeded To whom the landlord spoke, And Harper was upon the road Long ere the morning broke. Now Harper over yonder bridge, Held by the foe, must ride ; He sees the armed sentinel Upon the further side. The guard has spied the rider * A friend of ours," thought he, * For never foe would dare to cross Our path so fearlessly." But to himself the sentinel The words had ecarcely said, When Harper s deadly rifle Was leveled at his head. 20 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. ** Raise not an arm," said Harper, " And not a word from thee ; Sure as thou disobeyest, Thy life shall forfeit be." Then Harper in the saddle turned, His rifle pointed still Full at the sentinel, rode on Till sheltered by a hill. * Now heed thee well, John Harper, A foe is on thy track A foe of savage daring Who cunning doth not lack," But Harper is no dreamer When danger lingers near. What sound from yonder cross-road Has fallen on his ear ? The bloody Sithiug Henry,* A daring Indian, tries To cross our hero s pathway, And take him by surprise. But at the turning of the road, Well may the savage start To see a deadly rifle Full leveled at his heart I 44 Now turn thee back," said Harper, " At thy horse s swiftest speed, Or I will cjuickly send thee Where thy horse thou wilt not need." * The name of a savage noted for his deeds of cruelty. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 21 No word dare Si thing Henry say, Nor raise his arm in fight, But, wheeling round, rode off again, And soon was out of sight. " ! were it not my telltale gun Might rouse the lurking foe, That scalping devil," Harper said, " Should not so cheaply go." Now joy reigns in Schoharie, O er hill and valley fair, For not a painted savage Or Tory lingers there. And thanks to thee, John Harper, And to thy valiant band, The praises of thy gallant deeds Are ringing through the land ! idl; OR, THE JERSEY PRISON-SHIP. " Be seated, friends," the old man said, " I have a tale to tell ; It is about a friend of mine His name was Rodger Bell. " This Rodger Bell has now been dead Some thirty years or more ; He was a man somewhat in years At closing of the war. 22 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. ** He lived upon Long Island s shore"; A sailor good was lie, For he, like all his brothers, had Been brought up to the sea. " We could not boast a navy then ; But in the bays about, Whaleboats to act as privateers Were often fitted out. " He had command of one of these Light craft upon the sound ; And soon his name a terror grew To all the Tories round. * For Bell was cunning as a fox While fear he never knew ; And never did a daring chief Command a braver crew. " But I shall give in his own words, As near as it may be, The story of his sufferings As it was told to me." T would ill become me now to boast, Said Bell, of what was done By me and my heroic band, Or all the booty won. I once could tell of daring deeds, Almost beyond belief ; I only tell one story now, And that is one of grief : BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION, 23 A vessel with a cargo rich Was coming in, I knew ; To capture her I had secured A well-selected crew. I had a son, an only sort, Then in his nineteenth year ; A lad whom danger thrilled with j^y, A lad who knew not fear. And yet he had a gentle heart, That felt for other s pain; His bitterest foe, if in distress, Would his compassion gain. My son had often begged that he One of our crew might make, But I forbade it for his own And for his mother s sake.. But this time in disguise lie came, The place of one to fill, Who, lucklessly, upon that day It chanced was taken ill. I did not recognize my boy Till we were underweigh ; * Twas then too late t@ make a change ; Our trade brooked no delay. With little loss on citlier side, The prize we had secured, And snugly in a sheltering cove The vessels we had moored. 24 BALLADS OF THE KEVOLTJTIQN. But while our cheaply-captured prize We were rejoicing o er r A band of Tories, strongly armeJ r Appeared upon the shore. And hardly had we shoved in haste- Our vessel from the land, "When I beheld among our foes My son upon the strantf. I sprang again npon the shore,- My dauntless boy to aid ; But hero the odds were ten to on*. And we were pris ners made.. Into the Jersey prison-ship ! My boy and I were thrown* Whose inmates suffered miseries* Till then almost unknown. For cruelties inflicted there I cannot find a name, I can but say our keepers knew No pity or no shame.. They gave us rancid pork to eat, With black and mouldy bread ;.- The very pigs upon the street On better fare are fed. Without a breath of wholesome aiiv Arid scarce a ray of light ; O, Jong and weary was tho day T And sleepless was the night. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 25 The loathsomeness, the filthiness, No words of mine can tell ; And even now it sickens me Upon those scenes to dwell. Yet I had suffered patiently Without a single moan, And no complaint had passed my lips t Had I but been alone. My noble boy bore up a while, But sickness came at last, And he, tho uttering no complaint, I saw was sinking fast. And I could not endure to see My son by inches die, Without an effort being made To ease his sufferings try. We all had of the hospital A loathing and a dread ; Each comrade we saw carried there We deemed already dead. I knew my son must soon be torn From me and taken there ; The fearful prospect filled us both With horror and despair. I felt he never <3ould survive Were we thus forced apart, And well I knew the death of him Would break his mother s heart. 26 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. But when our sufferings had reached The last extremity, There came a prospect of escape We had not hoped to see. It was resolved one stormy night,. By prisoners three or four, To strive their liberty to gain By swimming to the shore* And one of these, who knew me well x At parting promised me, Should he succeed he would return With aid to set us free. We had the plan considered well. And fixed upon the day Or rather night, the hour and all* Before he went away. But while I prayed he might succeed^ For his and for our sake, I fear d our generous friend would fail His own escape to make. Yet he succeeded and returned, As he had promised me, With two of my own crew, resolved To die or set me free. And in the darkness of the night, And with a favoring tide, They brought their boats, with muffled oars, Up to the vessel s side. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 27 Our berth close by a porthole was, Tho closed and bolted fast ; We found the means of opening this. And out through it we passed. Our foes were soon in hot pursuit, They having learned our flight, But our escape was favored by The darkness of the night. Their bullets whistled past our ears, And struck the water near, But from such random shots we thought There was not much to fear. We soon were far beyond their reach, And when the shore we won, The mother stood upon the beach To greet her long lost son* al Into the boat she sprang, and clasped Him to her bosom warm ; But Oh ! what horror thrilled her heart She clasped his lifeless form . One of the bullets fired at us Had struck him in the side, And he had sank upon his seat, Without a groan, and died ! I ve lived, continued Rodger Bell, To see my country free, And I rejoice for others sake That such a thing should be. BALLADS OF THS REVOLUTION. But what to me is country now ? Or liberty, or life ? With shattered frame and childless home, And poor heart-broken wife ! 0, Bunker Hill was a gallant fight To be remembered well, And yet it grieved us, too, for there The noble Warren fell ! And many a valiant one beside Upon that day did fall ; And much we mourned for them, but Oh! For Warren most of all. Yes, though it waa a time for joy, *T was one for sadness, too ;. In many a happy home there would Be wailing now, we knew. And all the land would weep the brave We could no more recall Our noble-hearted martyred sons And Warren most of all ! And yet it fired the People s heart With strength and courage new. And all resolved with one accord To doubly dare and do ; And pledged themselves that vengeance dire Should on the Briton fall, For ruined homes and slaughtered sons, And Warren most of all ! BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 29 And now, when war has passed away, And peace has come again, And Freedom s flag triumphantly Floats over hill and plain, Still, mid the universal joy, A gloom at times will fall Upon our hearts, for heroes slain,, And Warren most of all I A LEGEND OF RENSSELJERVILLE, Ah ! little ye think in these peace-loving days, As ye cozily sit by the fire s warm blaze, Of the toils and the horror your fathers endured In the struggle that all your rich blessings secured! When yon fields, that now drink but the life- giving flood, Were drenched in a torrent of innocent blood ; And the mother at night clasped her baby in fear, Lest the yell of the savage should ring in her ear, And her innocent babe from her arms should be wrung, Or its life-blood be spilt on the breast where it clung I Robin Brice had set out At the dawn of the day, With a grist for the mill That s nine long miles away. 30 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. " But eleven years old," Says the mother; " too bad To put such a task On so tender a lad !" But his brother and father At work are away, And the grist to the mill Must be carried to-day* So Robin is placed On a good trusty nag, Filled with grain on before himy Well lashed, is the bag. And the boy is, I trow, Not a little elate, At being deemed worthy A charge of such weight. Loit ring through forestsy And wading through Btream r Like a holiday frolic The long journey seems. The grist has been ground, >ti .. & , ,. , b And the day wanes apace,, And nine long miles back, Through the darkness to trace, Present not the charm They presented before 1o the boy, when in daylight He traveled them o er. BALLADS OF THE HE VOLUTION. 31 His friend, Captain Diltz, Lived three miles on the way- At his house, thought the boy, For the night I can stay ; My brother, who helping Our neighbor, is there, Full gladly his bed And his supper I ll share. Yet not so lighthcarted As starting at morn, He mounted at eve His good nag to return. For visions before him In fancy were spread, Of blood-thirsty Tories And savages dread. Dread visions, alas ! But foreshadowings slight Of horrors, poor lad, Thou shall witness to-night ! But hifl terror soon flies, For delighted he sees The house of his friend Peering out through the trees. Now, a moment or two And he reaches the gate ; But to open it, why Does the lad hesitate ? 32 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. Ah, well may his heart Shrink with terror dismayed For the strong swarthy hand On his bridle is laid Of a dark form that seems To rise out of the ground! It makes not a gesture ; It utters no sound. But the grim painted visage, And dark frowning brow, The boy plainly tell In whose hands he is now, All silent with wonder, And trembling with fear, Led on by the savage, The house he draws near; And he sees in the glare Of the setting sun red, Where eight of his friends In the pathway lie dead I Their blood-dripping scalps On a pole had been strung, Which a savage before him Exultingly swung! To trees his poor brother And Diltz had been tied No living friend had he Now left there beside. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 33 The rest had been murdered, The young and the old, And lay stretched on the ground In their blood, scarcely cold! There was blood on the door-step, And blood on the floor, And the savages hands Were still reeking with gore ! Grim savage forms In the farm-house he sees, By the hay- stack, the barn, In and out rnong the trees. Nine horses have they, And have loaded them well With spoils from the scene . Of their butchery fell. And the savages now, In the red glaring light Of the houses they ve fired, Prepare for the flight. Unbound from the trees Are the pris ners once more, And, tied to each other, Are driven before. But toilsome and weary The task were to tell, Of all on their journey The prisoners befel 34 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. Of tlic fruitless pursuit, And the hurry of flight Of the toils of the day, And the fears of the night Of their horror, as dread Of starvation there came, When the Indians no longer Dare shoot at the game, Lest their foes the report Of the rifle might hear, Whom their instincts told them Were hovering near ; And they had already Abandoned, in fright, The cumbrous booty Impeding their flight Of the cruel treatment Through which they passed, When the Indian village They reached at last How unhappy Diltz Of their cruelty died, And the brothers were torn From each other s side ; Long sundered and suffering, And meeting no more Til after the close Of a long, bloody war. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 35 But who can describe The poor mother s delight, When the child so long lost Once more greeted her sight ? 41 Thy brother we knew Was still living," she said ; " But thee, my poor son, We d long wept for as dead. 14 But the tears that in sorrow I ve shed, my dear boy, Are nought to the tears I am shedding for joy." Still lives Robert Brice, though old and gray, Still may he live for many a day ; And still to his grandchild s children tell The stories they love to hear so well. HOW SHE SAVED THE AMERICAN AEMY. In wretched plight at Valley Forge The patriot army lay ; In Philadelphia General Howe Was feasting night and day. But though the city seemed to smile Upon the invading host, Full many a brave and faithful friend The patriots there ceuld boast. 36 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. Good Lydia Darrah hated war A Quakeress was she Yet Lydia loved her country well, And longed to see it free. Now, Lydia s house was often made A place of rendezvous By British officers, when they Had secret work to do. It was a cosy, quiet place, Her upper room ; and hence The very place such men would choose For private conference. For where could conference be held So secret and secure As in the quiet home of one So sober and demure ? The second of December Is a cold and frosty night, And the cosy room is all ablaze With fire and with light. The General would meet some friends, And, * Lydia," says he, " You and your household will retire As early as may be. " Our stay, perhaps, may be prolonged Til far on in the night ; Myself will waken you in time To extinguish fire and light." BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 87 4< So we must early to our beds ! This looks not well," thought she ; Her woman s sympathies were roused, And curiosity. 44 These cruel men ! these cruel men !" So Lydia Darrah thought ; " These cruel men ! these cruel men What mischief they have wrought !" She goes to bed, but not to sleep, These words she seems to hear " What does it mean ? what does it mean ?" Still ringing in her ear. She leaves her couch with shoeless feet Treads the dark passage o er And up the stairs and now she stands Close at the parlor door ! But wherefore does the woman start, As with a thrill of fear ? Have words by her been caught that tell Of coming danger near ? 44 These cruel men ! these cruel men !" Good Lydia Darrah thought ; 44 These cruel men ! these cruel men ! What mischief they have wrought !" 44 Night after next, I m sure it was ; God willing, who shall say But one as weak as I for once Their bloody hands may stay ?" BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. Scarce had she reached her couch again, When rap ! rap ! at the door ; Her guests had come to waken her, As fixed upon before. Full many a rap the door they gave, And many a lusty shake ; The slumber must be sound, thought they, Of one so hard to wake ! Good Lydia is up by times And stirring, ere the day ; The meal is out the mill, she knows, Is five long miles away. A written pass is in her hand, And on the road is she ; And ne er before that road by her Was strode so rapidly. The mill is reached the bag is filled But why so brief a stay ? And why toward the rebel camp Now hurries she away ? What horseman stops her in her course ? Ab, Lydia ! well for thee Thy gallant guests of yesternight That meeting do not see ! Those words of thine, friend Lydia, Must needs be words of weight, To send that gallant off again At such a rapid rate ! BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. Now, Lydia and her bag of meal Were safe at Lome once more, And that day and the next passed by As smoothly as before. But, ah ! not wholly at her ease* As late the evening grew, Was Lydia, when the General sought A private interview. Was Lydia sure her household all Had to their beds retired When last his friends met at her house, As he had then required ? Quite sure was Lydia, very sure, She saw them all abed ; " Have we a traitor in our camp ? T is very strange !" he said. That Lydia was herself in bed The General thought he knew, He had himself to waken her So very much ado. ** To take the rebels by surprise A plan had been devised ; We found them ready when we came We, only, were surprised. 44 And so, like some deluded fools On bootless errand sent, Rode back, the jest of all the town, As empty as we went !" 40 BALLADS OP TH EEVOLUTION. The cause of their discomfiture, Though Lydia thought she knew, Yet .she, though woman as she was, Could keep a secret, too, But quiet Lydia said no more Than she was asked to say; And so, no wiser than he came, The General went away. A LEGEND OF THE MOHAWK VALLEY. The vale of the Mohawk is plunged in despair, For tho blood-thirsty Brandt and his band have been there ; The blood of the mother the hearthstone has dyed, While her innocent baby lies stretched at her side ; Defending his loved ones the father has bled, And the daughter is into captivity led. Who are those ? who are those in yon swift gliding sleigh, Who over the snow-drifts are dashing away ? Now through the dark forest now over the stream, Where the frost king has thrown a strong bridge for the team. Now up the steep hillside now over the plain, And now the dark forest they enter again ; * Tis Mrs. Van Alstine, a heroine tried, BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 41 And a son of her own is the youth at her side ; Twas she, who, when murder and pillage were rife, From the hand of the savage saved many a life. They fly not from danger, they fly not through fear, Each moment brings danger more fearfully near. Through that forest the savage his war-path has made ; The homes on its borders are desolate laid, But little of danger these reckless ones heed For right to the savage s stronghold they speed. Tho scaping with life from the horrible scene, That so fearful a death to so many had been ; Their homes have been pillaged, their fields been laid waste, And now for redress to the spoiler they haste. Now twenty long miles through the snow they have passed, And the savage s home is before them at last. But why does this silence prevail ? Is there none The fortress to guard, but yon moping old crone ? Marauding and hunting the rest are away. Now haste to your task, for not long may you stay. Nor long did they linger, and never I trow Was that good sleigh so speedily loaded as now. To seize, without process, no scruples had they, Whate er of their goods they could carry away, While two noble steeds of their own they set free, Well knowing at nightfall at home they would be. Now haste ye ! now haste ye ! bold travelers back, For soon will the savage foe be on your track. 42 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. But little of warning these daring ones need. To turn their course homeward or urge them to speed ; And little inclined do I warrant are they To lag on the journey or stop by the way ; No foes they encounter by roadside or hill, No copse-wood or ravine the lurking foes fill ; In safety they pass through the forest again In safety they glide over river and plain In safety arrive at their own farmhouse door, Where the horses await them they sent on before. Now Mrs. Van Alstine, her two noble steeds, To the barn whence the Indians had stolen them leads ; But hardly secure has the barn-door "been made, When a hand on her shoulder in rudeness is laid ; When turning, three savages fierce met her view, Whose bloodthirsty natures but too well she knew. The horses ! the horses ! restore them again," Said the leader, * all else thou hast taken retain." ** The horses are mine," the brave woman replied, As she fearlessly thrust the fierce savage aside ; " The horses are mine ; you shall have them no more," She said as she stood with her back gainst the door. Now steps back the Indian, his rifle is raised, Why does he not fire ? why stands he amazed ? He looks at his victim, no terror is there ! Her dark eyes flash fire, her bosom is bare ! "There are spirits protecting that brave-hearted one," >.v BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 43 The savage exclaimed, as he lowered his gun ; ** If fifty like sho in the valley had been, No pillage or bloodshed that valley had seen." With a shout of applause then the savages fled, And that valley no more saw their visages dread. A LEGEND OF SOUTH CAROLINA. Mrs. Mott has a mansion new On yonder height has a mansion rare A lovelier spot you may seldom view, But the British have made a stronghold there. And Marion has besieged the place His tent is pitched on yonder hill; Prepared for conflict or for chase, His gallant men the valley fill. Yet all the while the British sneer At Marion s besieging host, For Kawdon with his force is near, To succor the beleaguered post. * That fortress," General Marion said, " Must ere the dawn of day be won ; Lord Rawdon comes to it with aid Before the rising of the sun. u And with but little waste of blood We 11 gain the point desired, If yonder stately mansion can (Which crowns the height) be fired." 44 BALLADS OF TH^ REVOLUTION. The mansion-house stood fair to view, Within a narrow, guarded field The house once fired, Marion knew, The foe must either fight or yield. " But if we fire yon house," said Lee, Whose post was on another height ; ** Though we may strike an enemy, We wound as well a friend to-night." But Mrs. Mott was a patriot true No one ^adier was t^ian she To do whatever a woman might do To set her suff ring country free. * Spare not that mansion for my sake, Nor think of me or mine," sho said, ** The sacrifice I gladly make, If thus my country s cause I aid." A bow with arrows then she brought, A present rare from India far ; She took the arrows strangely wrought, And dipped their heads in blazing tar. 44 Now let yon roof your target be/ " Nor fail to hit the mark," she says ; " No sight will so much gladden me As my own mansion in a blaze." The fiery shafts like lightning flew, 7*116 sun-dried roof like tinder blazed ; A mighty bonfire start to view, The country round beheld amazed. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 45 In vain the British soldiers tried To quench the all-devouring flame ; For ever from the patriot s side A well-directed volley came. A white flag now the British raise To us, a signal of their fall, And e er that bonfire ceased to blaze Those haughty foes are prisoners all. ,*lf , Of hasty-pudding Barlow sang, And sweet was the song I know full well, For all the land with its praises rang, Where the lovers of hasting-pudding dwell. But I sing of a hasty-pudding, I ween, Such as Barlow himself had never seen. *Twas the morning after The Lexington fight, Weary and hungry With marching all night, All hearty good fellows, An hundred or more, Were commanded to halt At a farm-house door. 46 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. A maid-servant answered The ring at the gate, Beseeching our captain His wishes to state. 44 We re weary and hungry With marching," he said, ** Can yon furnish a breakfast For us, pretty maid." 44 0, what," said the maid, * Are we going to do ? There is no one at home, Mrs. Pond, but you. " None but you and myself, And the plowman Ben ! 0, what shall we do ? " She repeated again. 14 Our bacon is almost Exhausted, you know, The beets, the potatoes, And turnips are low. " We have not a pudding Or pie in the house, Nor cheese enough For famishing mouse. 4 We are out of sugar, And butter, and bread, And here an hundred Stout men to be fed ! " BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 47 Then spoke the good mistress " We ll see, we shall she, There s never a will But a way there must be. " Of Colonel Pond s wife No one ever shall say She sent from her door Brave men hungry away. " They shall have hasty-pudding Tis soonest prepared, The best of us oft Have less sumptuously fared. ** There s meal in the gran ry As yellow as gold, I ve a kettle, at least, Twenty gallons will hold. " I ve ten good cows ready To yield their rich tide, Our neighbors will lend What is needed beside. " The stock of our good friend, The store-keeper nigh, With plenty of spoons And brown basins supply. * Light the fire, my dear girl, There s no time for delay, Send Ben with the pails To the neighbors away. 48 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. " Our guests are no chickens, Or children to feed ; They ll lend us, I ll warrant. A hand in onr need." And a hand we did lend, With a hearty good will, Cutting wood, drawing water, The kettle to fill : Or stirring the pudding, Or tending the fire, Or milking the cows, As the case might require. An hundred stout men Seated all on the green, With a bowl of milk each, Was a sight to be seen. While hot golden pudding, That swam in the tide, With no stinted hand To the guests was supplied. That milk ! and that pudding ! Such praises it won ! And never to fare Better justice was done. With such exquisite grace Did our hostess .preside, None could feel more at home By his own fireside. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 49 Our banquet completed We rose to depart, With thanks and good wishes That came from the heart. And such three hearty cheers As we gave when we went, Ne er before in that valley The morning air rent. 0, many the years that have since rolled away, And toilsome and weary life s journey has been; Yet fondly does mein ry still dwell on that day, Arid often does fancy still picture the scene. 0f 0, many strange things were brought to view, In those days of dread, said the bard of eld ; Yet never but one attack, I knew, By a hive of furious bees repelled. Full often by woman s wit was done What the courage of man had failed to do. But that of which I would speak is one Of woman s wit and her courage, too. T was in Schoharie the block-house stood ; There were many such throughout the land, When the savage foes in the pathless wood Found easy shelter on every hand. 50 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. The men had gone in search of the foe A foe they knew was lurking about ; Their wives and children they thought could know No harm, meanwhile, in a place so stout. But the foes they sought for all the while, Hard by in ambush had lain in wait ; And they had seen, with a fiendish smile, The fortress s unprotected state. Thirsting for blood the savages came, With Tories no less cruel than they, Madly vowing that sword and flame Should spare neither old nor young that day. One man alone at the place had staid, And he by a random bullet fell ; That the women could look for no further aid The cunning savages knew fall well. But the walls were thick and the bolts were etout, And kept the savages long at bay, Till with spades and shovels they set about By undermining to make their way. * The hand of heaven alone can save Us now from the foe," the matrons cried ; When up spoke a youthful maiden brave-^-.;.uii ii " Heaven sends a weapon we have not tried." Then from a shelf in a corner nigh, She carefully lifted a hive of bees ; * Now," she said, "we ll let the blood-hounds try If their cunning can master such foes as these." BALLADS OP THE REVOLUTION. 51 Among the besiegers sire threw the bees ; 0, what a scampering then was there : They had not counted on foes like these, And they knew not how many such foes there were. About them the little insects flew, Stinging their lips, their noses, their ears, Piercing their light garments through and through, Filling the eyes with painful tears. Stung in their faces, and stung in their feet, The Indians raved and the Tories swore; Never was seen a more hasty retreat, And never was fortress so saved before. In terror they threw down musket and spade, So sadly beset by the bees were they ; And more was done by these insects, t was said, Than twenty good guns could have done that day. 52 BALLADS OF THtl REVOLUTIQJT. Jf0rt f a f 0, wild is the spot, with its crags and its forest, But holier the charm that endears it to me The cherished old homestead, the blessed old home stead That sheltered my boyhood still stands at Fort Lee. I love every nook, every streamlet and fountain ; I greet an old friend in each time-honored tree, And ! what a treasure the mem ries that cluster Around the old homestead that stands at Fort Lee! The Hudson, all pure from its home in the moun tain, As lingering awhile on its way to the sea, Kissed the roses and pinks in my grandmother s garden, While lovingly loving the shores of Fort Lee. There my grandsire dwelt in those dark days of trial, When brave hearts were striving their country to free ; There the chief of them all by that grandsire was welcomed, And blessed the old homestead that stands at Fort Lee. BALLADS OF T^E REVOLUTION. 53 And when the fierce Hessians had seized on hia dwelling 1 , While all must a prey to their ruthless hands be ; They swore the king s health should be drunk by the rebel, Or a grave he should find neath his home at Fort Lee. But when from his cellar a bumper they fill d him, * Confusion to tyrants wherever they be ; Success to our chief and his patriot army" Was the toast of the fearless old man at Fort Lee ! Full many are "they, who, for comfort and shelter, When forced from their homes by oppression to flee, With hearts overflowing, have thanked the good people Who honored the homestead that stands at Fort Lee. Long, long, may the stranger still find thero a shelter, Far, far, be the day that its ruin shall sec; While we in remembrance shall treasure it ever, And bless the old homestead that stood at Fort Lee ! 54 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. He fell amid the conflict, The leader of a band, The glory of whose prowess Resounds throughout the land. Go cull the greenest laurel, And twine a wreath to deck The brow of brave MONTGOMERY, The hero of Quebec ! lie was one of those spirits Who danger gladly greet, And who achieve renown Mid disaster and defeat ; And tho they boast a victory, Yet fearful was the check The haughty Briton s pride met from MONTGOMERY at Quebec. Though many are the brave ones Our country s annals boast, And coming generations May make their names a host, The brave shall cease to win our praiso, Our nation be a wreck, Ero we forget MONTGOMERY, The hero of Quebec. BALLADS OP THE REVOLUTION. 55 iattk 0f % fugs, IT18. [This ballad, together with all that follow, were written and sung by our fathers of tho Revolution, and we introduce them with pleasure in this beautiful collection from Mr. Ha- gan g pen.J Gallants, attend, and hear a friend Trill forth harmonious ditty ; Strange things I ll tell which late befeS In Philadelphia city. Twas early day, as poets say^ Just when the sun was rising, A soldier stood on a log of wood And saw- a thing surprising : As in amaze he stood to gaze, The thing can t be denied, sir, He spied a score of kegs or more Come floating down the tide, sir- A sailor, too, in jerkin blue., This strange appearance viewing, First damn d his eyes, in great surprise, Then said, * some mischief s brewing ; These kegs, I m told, these rebels hold, Pack d up like pickled herring, And they ve come down to attack the town In this new way of ferrying." The soldier flew the sailor, too* And scar d almost to death, sir, Wore out their shoes to spread the news, And ran till out of breath, sir. 56 BALLAT>S OF THE REVOLUTION, N6w up and down, throughout the town, Most frantic scenes were acted, And some ran here and others there. Like men almost distracted. Some fire erieJ, which some denied. But said the earth had quaked ; And girls and boys, with hideous noise,, Han through the streets half naked- Sir William he, snug* as a flea, Lav all this time a-snorinff, r . . o Nor dreamed of harm as he lay warni In bed with . Now in affright he starts upright,. Awak d by such a clatter, He rubs his eyes and boldly cries "For God s sake, what s the matter T * At his bedside he then espied Sir Erksiue at command, sir ; Upon one foot he had one boot And t other in his hand, sir. 44 Arise! arise!" Sir Erksine cries, "The rebels more s the pity Without a boat are all afloat And rayed before the city ; The motley crew, in vessels new, With Satan for their guide, sir, Packed up in bags or wooden kegs Come driving down the tide, sir. Therefore prepare for bloody war,. These kegs must all bo routed. Or surely we despised shall be, And British courage doubted." BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION* 57 The royal band now ready stand All ranged in dread array, sir, With stomachs stout to see it out And make A bloody day, sir. The cannons roar from shore to shore, The small arms make a rattle; Since wars began I m sure no man E er saw so strange a battle. The rebel dales the rebel vales With rebel trees surrounded, The distant woods, the hills and floods, With rebel echoes sounded. The fish below swam to and fro, Attacked from every quarter, Why, sure, thought they, the devil s to pay Mongst folks above the water. The kegs, t is said, though strongly made Of rebel staves and hoops, sir, Could not oppose those powerful foes The conquering British troops, sir. From morn till night these men of might Displayed amazing courage, And wlien the sun was fairly down Retired to sup their porridge. An hundred men with each a pen Or more, lipon my word, sir, It is most true would be too few Their valor to record, sir. Such feats did they perform that day Against those wicked kegs, sirs, That years to come, if they get home, They ll make their boasts and brags, pins. 58 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. Cjmstor, 1ZZS. x A HYMN. ^ Let tyrants shake their iron rod And slavery clank her galling chains, "We fear them not, we trust in God New England s God forever reigns. Howe, and Burgoyne, and Clinton, too, With Prescott and Cornwallis joined, Together plot our overthrow, In one infernal league combined. When God inspired us for the fight, Their ranks- were broke, their lines were forced,- Their ships were shattered in our sight, Or swiftly driven from our coast. The foe comes on with haughty stride, Our troops advance with martial noise ; Their veterans flee before our youth* And generals yield to beardless boys. What grateful offering shall we bring I What shall we render to the Lord 1 Loud hallelujahs let us sing, And praise his name on every chords BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION, s <%istle in % m By my faith, but I think ye re all makers of hulls, With your brains in your breeches, your in your skulls; Get home with your muskets, and put up your swords, And look in your books for the meaning of words. You see now, my honies, how much you re mis taken, For Concord by dis-oord can never be beaten. How brave ye went out with your muskets all bright, And thought to befrighten the folks with the sight ; But, when you got there, how they powdered your pums, And all the way home how they pepper d your ; f And is it not, honies, a comical crack, To be proud in the face, and be shot in the back. How come ye to think, now, they did not know how To be after their firelocks as smartly as you ? Why, you see now, my honies, tis nothing at all But to pull at the trigger, and pop goes the ball. (5O BALLADS OF TH^ REVOLUTION. - And what have you got now, with all your design ing, But a town without victuals to sit down and dine in, And to look on the ground, like a parcel of noodles, And sing how the Yankees have beaten the Doo dles, I m sure, if you re wise, you ll make peace for a dinner, For fighting rod fasting will soon make you thinner. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. JL-SEW ON& WRITTEN AFTER THE DEFEAT O BURGOYNE, I West of the old Atlantic firm Liberty stands ; Hov ring Fame gust alighted supported by bands I Of native free-born, who loudly echoing sing "We ll support our just rights gainst tyrannic Mugs !" "Caral-laddy, caral-laddy, &o. <3reorge the Third she disowns, and Ms proud lordly cheats, His murdering legions and half-famished fleets ; To the Jerseys sneaked off with Cear quite dis- may d, Although they much Coasted, that fighting s their trade. Our just rights to assert hath the Congress oft tried, Whose wisdom and strength our opponents deride ; And still madly in rage their weak thunder is hurl d To bring us on our knees and to bully the world. 62 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. Too haughty to yield, yet too weak to withstand, They skulk to their ships and leave us the firm land ; In dread lest they share what Jack Burgoyne did feel r And the game be quite lost as poor Jack had lost deaL Jack thinking of " cribbage," " all fours/ or of "put," With a dexterous hand he did shuffle and cut, And when likely to lose, like a sharper they say, Did attempt to renege I mean run away. But watched so closely he could not play booty. Yet to cheat he fain would for George. twas his duty; A great bet depending on that single game, J>ominion and honor destruction and shame. Examined with care his most critical hand ; At a loss if better to beg or to stand ; His tricks reckon d up, for v all sharpers can jangle, Then kick d up a dust for his favorite wrangle, * T was diamond cut diamond, spades were of no use But to dig up the wages for surrender and truce, For he dreaded the hand that dealt out such thumps, As the hearts were run out and clubs were then trumps. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 63 Thus l)e met with the rubbers as the game it turn d out, Poor Jack, although beat, made a damnable rout, Complained he was cheated and pompously talks, Quit the game with a curse while he rubb d out tho chalks. But, see! a cloud bursts and a seraph appears Loud trumpeting peace while in blood to their ears, With bulls and with pardons for us on submission, To BULL us and GULL us by THEIR SHAM COMMIS SION. Tho haughty great George then to peace is now prone, A bully when matched can soon alter his tone ; T is the act of a Briton to bluster and threaten, HANGS HIS TAIL LIKE A SPANIEL WHEN HAND SOMELY BEATEN. Charge your glasses lip-high to brave Washington sing, To the Union so glorious the whole world shall ring ; May their councils in wisdom and valor unite, And the men ne er be wrong who so far are right. The great Doctor Franklin the next glass must claim, Whose electrical rod strikes terror and shame ; Like Moses who caused Pharaoli s heart-strings to grumble, Shock d George on his throne, his magicians made humble. 64 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. To Gates and to Arnold with bumpers we ll join, And to all our brave troops who took gambling Burgoyne. May their luck still increase as they vc turn d upon Jack, To cut and turn up all the knaves in the pack. * * The Earl of Dartmouth asked an American in. London of how many members the Congress consisted. To which the reply was "fifty-two." "Why, that is the number of cards in a pack ; how many knaves are there ?" said his lordship. Not one, replied the American. "Please to recollect that KHAVSS ARB COURT CARDS." BALLADS OP THE REVOLUTION. 65 (Ml High on the banks of Delaware Fair Liberty she stood ; - And waving with her lovely hand, Cried "Still, thou roaring flood. " Be still, ye winds be still, ye seas, Let only zephyrs play ! " Just as she spoke they all obeyed, thus the maid did say : " Welcome, my friends, from every land Where freedom doth not reign ; Oh ! hither fly from every clime Sweet liberty to gain ! * Mark Londonderry s brave defence Gainst tyranny that swayed ; Americans, the example s great ! Like them be not dismayed. " Expect not that on downy beds This boon yon can secure, At perils srnile, rouse up your souls ! War s dangers to endure. " Gainst your affronted land behold Oppression rear its head^ In hydra-form and battle s din Each trembling slave to dread. 60 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. " Bat ye, its sons, will ne er give up Your parent fires till death ; Behold you beauteous virgins seek Laurels your brows to wreath. " Bear on your minds the noble deeds Your ancestors achieved, How many worthy Britons bled To have their children freed ! See on the meteors of the night Their spirits wanly fly ! Roused from the grave by your distress ; Hark ! thus I heard them cry : " Was it for this, ye mothers dear ! Ye nursed your tender babes ? Was it for this, our yet-loved sons ! We sheathed our trusty blades ? " ! genius of our ancient times ! Be thou our children s guide ; To arms ! to arms ! They call to arms. And stalk in martial pride. 44 1 will then guide, ye reverend sires ! Go to your tombs in peace ; The rage of proud usurping men Your sons shall yet repress. * Hold up your heads, ye weeping fair ! Their swords are on their thighs ; Smile yet again, ye lovely babes ! Their banner s in the skies. BALLADS OF THK REVOLUTION. 67 I come, I come, to join your train, Heaven s ministers I see ; Farewell, my friends, be not afraid, Be virtuous and be free ! " Heaven s portals opened as she soared, And angels thence did come ; With heavenly songs and golden harps The Goddess welcomed home. 68 BALLADS OF THE DEVOLUTION, As near beauteous Boston tying On the gently swelling flood, Without jack or pendant flying, Three ill-fated tea-ships rode. Just as glorious Sol was setting. On the wharf a numerous crew, Sons of freedom, fear forgetting, Suddenly appeared in view. Armed with hammers, axe, and chisels, Weapons ne^v for warlike deed, toward the herbage-freighted vessels They approached with dreadful speed. O er their heads, aloft in mid-sky, Three bright angel forms were seen : This was Hampden, that was Sidney, With fair Liberty between. 11 Soon," they cried, "your foes you ll banish, Soon the triumph shall be won ; Scarce shall setting Phoebus vanish, Ere the deathless deed be done." Quick as thought the ships were boarded, Hatches burst and chests displayed, Axes, hammers, help afforded ; What a glorious crash they made. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 69 Squash into the deep descended, Cursed weed of China s coast ; Thus at once our fears were ended* British rights shall ne er be lost. Captains ! once more hoist your streamers, Spread your sails and plough the wave ; Tell your masters they were dreamers When they thought to cheat the brave. 70 BALLADS OP THE REVOLUTION. 0it % " mth8 0f % fte." Twas winter, and blue Tory noses were freezing As they marched o er the land where they ought not to be ; The valiants complain d at the fifer s curs d wheezing, And wish d they d remained on the banks of the Dee. Lead on, thou paid captain ! tramp on, thou proud minions ! Thy ranks, basest men, shall be strung like ripe onions, For hero thou hast found heads with warlike opinions On the shoulders of men wlio ne er saw the Dee. Prepare for war s conflict ; or make preparation For peace with the rebels, for they re brave and glee; Keep mindful of dying and leave the foul nation That sends out its armies to brag and to flee. Make haste, now, and leave us, thou miscreant Tories ! To Scotland repairthere court the sad houris, And listen once more to their plaints and their stories Concerning thn " glory and pride of the Dee-" BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 71 Be quiet and sober, secure arid contented, Upon your land be valiant and free ; Bless God that the war is so nicely prevented* And till the green fields on the banks of the DCQ. The Dee then will flow, all its beauty displaying, The lads on its banks will again be seen playing, And England thus honestly taxes defraying, With natural drafts from the banks of the Dee. 72 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. t0 % Crattor. Arnold ! the name as heretofore, Shall now be Benedict no more ; Since, instigated by the devil, Thy ways are turned from good to evil, T is fit we brand thee witli a name, To suit thy infamy and shame ; And since of treason thou rt convicted, Thy name shall now be maledicted ; Unless, by way of contradiction, We style thee Britain^ Benediction, Such blessings she, with liberal hand, Confers on this devoted land. For instance, only let us mention Some proofs of her benign intention : The slaves she sends us o er the deep, The bribes to cut our throats in sleep, To take our lives and scalps away The savage Indians keeps in pay, Arid Tories worse, by half, than they. Then, in this class of British heroes The Tories, savage Indians, negroes- Recorded, Arnold s name shall stand While Freedom s blessings crown our land, And, odious for the blackest crimes, Arnold shall stink to latest times. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 73 SUNG BEFORE GENERAL SULLIVAN AFTEE THE BATTLE OF TRENTON. Hark ! the loud drums ; hark ! the shrill trumpet- call to arms, Come, Americans, come, prepare for war s alarms. Whilst in array we stand, What soldier dare to land ? Sure in the attempt to meet his doom A leaden death or a watery tomb. We, Americans, so brave o er the land or the waves, All invaders defy. We ll repulse them or die ; We scorn to live as slaves. Recall the days wherein our fathers bravely fought, And, crown d with praise, they patriot glory sought, Bid their high deeds inspire, Bid Magna Charta fire. Greatly they labored for our good, All sorts of tyranny withstood. All these we despise, on our courage rely, For what American so base would his country dis grace And from his colors fly, 74 . BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. No party spite no more our measures will oppose, For all unite against our insulting fois. All then in chorus sing, And let your voices ring. Fill unto Sullivan the flowing towl, Hand it to each gallant soul, Raise patriot flame, his glory proclaim Who his sword boldly draws in his country s cause And wins an endless name. * BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. .75 FREYNEAU. Oh ! blast this Congress, blast each upstart State On whos P commands ten thousand warriors wait ! From various climes that dire assembly came, True to their trust, yet hostile to my fame. Tis these, ah ! these have ruined Mf my sway, Disgrac d my arms, and led my realm astray. France aids them now I play a desperate game And sunburnt Spain they say will do the same. My armies vanquished, and my heroes fled, My people murmuring, and my commerce dead, My shattered navy, pelted, bruis d, and clubb d, By Dutchmen bullied, and by Frenchmen drubb d. My name abhorr d, my nation in disgrace, What should I do in such a mournful case ? My hopes and joys are vanished with my coin, My ruined army, and my lost Burgoyne ! What shall I do ? Confess my labors vain, Or whet my tusks and to the charge again ? But where s my force, my choicest troops are fled, Some thousands crippled, and a myriad dead. 7<3 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. If I were owned the stoutest of mankind, And Hell with all her rage ins pircd my mind, Could I at once with France and Spain contend, And fight the rebels on the workVs green end ? Yet rogues and savage tribes I must emploj -, And what I cannot conquer will destroy. Is there a robber close in Newgate hcmm d ? Is there a cutthroat fettered and condemn d ? Haste, loyal slaves, to George s standard come, Attend his lectures when you hear the drum. Your chains I break, for better days prepare, Come out, my friends, from prison and from care. Far to the west I plan your desperate way, There t is no sin to ravage, burn, and slay; Then, without fear, your bloody trade pursue And show mankind what British rage can do. Ye daring hosts that crowd Columbia s shore, Tremble, ye traitors ! and exult no more. Flames I will hurl with an unceasing hand Till fires eternal blaze throughout your land, And every dome and every town expires, And traitors perish in the unfeeling fires. 1 . But hold ! though this be all my soul s desire, Will my own towns be proof to rebel fire ? If, in i-Qvengc, my raging foes should come And burn my London, it would strike me dumb To sec my children and my queen in tears And these tall pUes come tumbling round my ears. BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. 77 Curs d be the day when I first saw the sun Curs d be the hour when I this war begun!- The friends of darkness then inspired my mind, And powers unfriendly to the human kind ; My future years I consecrate to woe ; For this great loss my soul in tears shall flow. To wasting grief and sullen rage a prey, To Scotland s utmost verge I take my way ; With Nature s storms eternal concert keep, And while her billows rage as fiercely weep. Oh ! let the earth my rugged fate bemoan, And give, at least, one sympathising groan, 78 BALLADS OF THE REVOLUTION. What though America doth pour Her millions to Britannia s store, Quoth Glenville, " that wo n t do for yet Taxation is the etiquette." The tea destroyed, the offer made That all the loss should be repaid ; x North asks not justice nor the debt, But he must have the etiquette. He d stop their post annul their laws, " Hear us," said Franklin, " for our cause !" To hear the accus d the Senate met, Decreed t was not the etiquette. At Bunker Hill the cause was tried, The earth with British blood was dyed ; Our army, though t was soundly beat, We hear bore off the etiquette. The bond dissolved the people rose Their rulers from themselves they chose ; Their Congress then at naught was set, Its name was not the etiquette. Though t were to stop the tide of blood Their titles must not be allowed, (Not to the chiefs of armies met,) One Arnold was the etiquette. BAT-LADS OP THE REVOLUTION. 79 The Yankees at Long Island found That they were nearly run aground ; Howe let them scape when so beset. He will explain the etiquette. His aid-de-camps to Britain boast Of battles Yankees never lost ; But they are won in the Gazette That saves the nation s etiquette. Clinton his injured honor saw, Swore he d be tried by martial law, And kick Germaine where er they met ; A ribbon saved that etiquette. Though records speak Germaine s disgrace, To quote them to him to his face, (The Commons now are si honnete), They voted not the etiquette. Of Saratoga s dreadful plain An army ruined ; why complain ? To pile their arms as they were let, Sure they came off with etiquette ! Cries Burgoyne " They may be reliev d ; That army still may be retrieved, To see the king if I be let." " No, sir ; t is not the etiquette." God save the King ! and should ho choose His people s confidence to lose, What matters it ? they 11 not forget To serve him still through etiquette. 80 BAIXADS OF THE REVOLUTION, to riisfo. Blush, Britain ! blusli at thy inglorious war, This civil contest, this ignoble jar ; Think how unjustly you ve begun tkc fray, With cruel measures rous d America. To arms ! each swain must leave the peaceful field, And gainst his brethren lift the sword and shield ; Their spacious commerce now in ruin lies, And through their land the hostile banner flies. Britain, what laurel canst thou hope to gain 1 Can any action give a hero fame ? In brother s blood our soldier s hands imbued, And barb rous hostilcs by our chiefs pursued., Afflicting Britain, thus to spoil thy name* Defeat s a scandal conquest but a shame ; Our senators all lost in dire excess, Lovers of pleasure, luxury, and dress. Almighty Ruler ! stretch thy potent hand, And o er Britannia wave the olive wand ; Preserve our nation from the impending fate, Drive clouds of Scotchmen from the British State. Fair Peace descend with all thy prosp rous train, And spread thy blessings o er our spacious plain. Grei man Self- Instructor. UNBO 8 GERMAN SERIES, NO, t. BEING A MODE OP .EARNING GERMAN ADAPTED ESPECIALLY TO tTT-BEGlNNERS and SELF-INSTRUCTORS ON A NEW AND KASY METHOD. T JS O W A R O C H A M I E R . PROFESSOR OF (jrKRMAN, NEW YOKK ClTY. All desirous of getting H knowledge of the -German Language will hai volume with aatisfactiou. It is simple, progressive nd comprehensive racing all the ground occupied by large and expensive Grammars. T prove invaluable to lho.se who are their- own instructors. Like th< ich Instructor, which has proved so eminently successful, it is in tender eipally for new beginners and self-instructors, but it is specially adapter Text Book lor Schools ami Colleges. The Publishers have always per ed the want of cheap vet thorough Text Hooks tor these languages are now happy to be able to supply their want. The book contain. 1 pages. The price, for such a book, is merely nominal only ten certs . Bent, po^i-paul, ou receipt of price. Send for a sample copy. THE ffiiCt t WSTOBY, CAUSE, PREVENTION * " OF CHOLERA, Wit.li an account, of its Progress and Ravages through the rid, ami the Latest and Most. Successful Treatment, Remedies Disinfectants Endorsed and Approved hy the Medical Faculty. "Cleanliness is next to godliness. 1 ST. PA ITU PRICE, TEN C i: N T H EACH. GEORGE MUNfiO & Co,, Publishers, 137 WILLIAM STRKET. N. Y MUNRO ST-EN CUNT PUBLICATIONS No. 1. The Hnnt*r. 2. The Trapper s Retreat. The Patriot Highwayman. The Fugitives of the Mountain* . The Track of Fire. The Man-Eat era. . Charlotte Temple. 8. The Death Face. . The Indian-Slayer. 10. The Tu rtUvCatcher. 11. The Hunter s Triumph. 12. The (>:ean Rovers. 13. The Tory Outwitted. 14. Zeke Sternum. 15. The Scourge of the Seas. 16. The Captive Maiden. 18! The Wild Scout of the Mountain*. 19. The Forest Lods, 20. The Rollicking Rangers. 21. Rattlesnake Dick. 22. Ricketty Tom, tiie Rover. 23. The Imps of the Prairie. 24. The Robber s Terror. . 23. Joe, the "Sarpnir." 26. Lightfoot, the Scout. 27. The Giant Spy of Bunker Hill. 28. Scar-Cheek, Die Wild Half-Breed. 29. Squint-Eyed Bob. 30. Snaky Sncwlfitass. 31. Rolling Thunder, or the Rival War- Chief*. 32. He<; y-Hathet. the Bold Scout, 33. Sly Sam, the Quaker Spy 34. The Three Daring Trappers STORIES The Ghost of V, SOJVG 3JOOKS. 35. The Fatal Mark.sn.nn o-Eyda Zt-ko 37. Bitf- Rifle Nick. 38. The Hold Scalp-Hunter Sy. T);. 1 Tot y v- y. 41. .\"t il:l- and Befl.nty. r ihe Forest 43 Tire .unit ot tho Wowls 44- The < razy Trapper. 45 The Lion-Heared Humer 46. Old J.in ..f ! he Wood*. 4<. Ma.! 48. The \\hitr- Headed Humer 49 J5i.-:. 50. Tlit Seoul ! I/one Island 51 S.I- i - ware. oi, HU-u-- .1 3 The] ood>. A GM : 63. The 56. Ti- 57. Bu? Siiitke .he Hir.Mii. 58. Mexican Joo, the Snake Char 5 J. Stead-, Hand, the axarv-i- Banter. -, Jack. rlet Warrior. te. The sconi c,f I ipyecano*. 63. Schinderhannes. of Wolf Glen. 63. Bulfalo Jiiok, Trui)i>er. 65. The Scout of the KJO Grande, 67. The Darinjf Backwoodsmzin Tho Cn-t Jey and Bennett Sons Hoot 6. The Jolly VVlK Wf Son* Bixik 7. Paul ! r.y Son^si^r. Munro s Tan Cent l,etier Wntr. Munro s Ten Cent Cook Book. MVJVRO S FftJ&JVCH SE ttJjKS, JVO. /. Being an Elementary Grammar of the French I>aneuae, by which every one can b 1. The Social Party Son? Book. U. Tl-e Yankee Sailor Song Book 3. The Russian Bear and American Eagle Soug Book. 4. The Bum* and Moore s Song Book. Re DiTllciDfllly for seii*iiiiruvvt, fcu i*vMf *- -* -i - . find it an invaluable Rocket companion. It is also specially adapted r, 8 a clase-book Schools and ( !ollerc8, be. nn arranged on an eaiay and proffnjfsive plan, i u 1act, nothing ca be more simple and adapted to the capacities of every one who desires to obtain a knowiet.^e of the French Langruaije. Price Ten CauUi. Send for a sample ,-opy. BALLADS -OP~THREVOLUTION. This u a collection of rare ballads of superior excellence, on prominent evenf^ ,.f the volution, and such as might have been sun incamp and oiiraard br the weather- i*n heroes of that day. A-monsr otheni *T the followinir i "Void Put s Hide." "Join, Harper, a l^KCiui of Schoharie / " Rodger Hell, or the .Ter- IT Prison Ship.". "Robin Brice," "The Hessian Woman in Bursfoyne s Camp, Lydia Darrah " Batfle of tl.c IJoes," "Mrs. Pon.l Has y Pu.iduw Party, Warren . The^e Balia^ls, bieatbins as thoy lo, the si-int of p., oar liberties, are eHpecially opportune at the pres< ful to the juvonile portion ol the country In.- horoiwn and self-sac, ifice, winch the whole count Though the events of the Revolution pre.-ot. of them ar* M well know., to the yonng ; as th- | fore been rendered mi.o familiar verse. I m r.-,k ia iotei 10 cent* each. ! " GEO. MUNliO & Co., Puwwhera, 137 WiHiam St., N. > THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY WILL INCREASE TO SO CENTS ON THE FOURTH DAY AND TO $1.OO ON THE SEVENTH DAY OVERDUE. EEC. H143 bal THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY