s 
 
 
 5? ^ 

 
 AtiEUNIVERS//, 

 
 //
 
 THE 
 
 DAVID HUMPHREYS, 
 
 Late Minister Plenipotentiary from the United States of America 
 to the Court of Madrid. 
 
 NEW-YORK: / 
 
 PRINTED BY T. AND J. SWORDS, 
 NO. 160 PEARL-STREET, 
 
 1804.
 
 District of Massachusetts, to wit : 
 
 BE IT REMEMBERED, that on the twenty-first Day 
 of April, 1804, and in the twenty-eighth Year of the 
 Seal* Independence of the United States of America, GIL 
 BERT and DEAN, of the said District, have deposited 
 in this Office the Title of a Book, the Right whereof 
 they claim as Proprietors, in the Words following, to tvit: " The 
 Miscellaneous Works of DAVID HUMPHREYS, late Minister Ple 
 nipotentiary from the United States of America to the Court of 
 Madrid." 
 
 In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, 
 entitled, " An Act for the Encouragement of Learning, by secur 
 ing the Copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and 
 Proprietors of such Copies, during the Times therein men 
 tioned;" and also to an Act, entitled, " An Act, supplementary 
 to an Act, entitled, An Act for the Encouragement of Learning, 
 by securing the Copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Au r 
 thors and Proprietors of such Copies, during the Times therein 
 mentioned ; and extending the Benefits thereof to the Arts of De 
 signing, Engraving, and Etching Historical and other Prints." 
 
 N. GOODALE, 
 Clerk of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 A true Cojiy of Record. 
 (Attest) N. GOODALE, Clerk.
 
 TO THE 
 
 DUKE DE ROCHEFOUCAULT, 
 
 With the Address to the Armies of America, and some shorter Productions. 
 
 MY LORD DUKE, 
 
 1. OUR knowledge of the language in which these mis 
 cellanies are written, your protection of the fine arts, and 
 your civilities to the Author, induce him to address this 
 collection to your Lordship. It is consistent with the 
 frankness of a free-born American to say, that your noble 
 blood, and immense possessions, would be of little consi 
 deration with the Republicans, w T hose Constitutions of 
 Government you have made familiar to your own nation, 
 by translating them into French, if unsupported by your 
 personal merit and amiable accomplishments. 
 
 The frequency of naval intercourse, and the extension 
 of polite literature, seem greatly to approximate the distant 
 parts of the globe the Atlantic is no barrier for limiting 
 fame. Your reputation has been long since extensively and 
 advantageously known throughout the United States of 
 America. That republican people cannot but admire so 
 excellent a private character, so disinterested a patriot, 
 and so able a defender of the rights of human nature. 
 The voice of undebauched reason, which is thus raised 
 at this vast distance from you, to bestow a tribute of ap 
 plause on your virtues, is infinitely different from the venal 
 voice of flatter} 7 . Nor should the conscious satisfaction
 
 vi TO THE DUKE DE ROCHEFOUCAULT. 
 
 which results from the review of a life spent in beneficent 
 pursuits, prevent a virtuous man from being also pleased 
 with the favourable opinion that is entertained of his con 
 duct by such of his fellow-men as can have no possible 
 sinister object to bias their judgments. 
 
 In presenting for your amusement the trifles which have 
 been occasionally composed at my leisure hours, I assume 
 nothing beyond the negative merit of not having ever 
 written any thing unfavourable to the interests of freedom, 
 humanity, and virtue. With sentiments of the highest 
 consideration and respect, 
 
 I have the honour to be, 
 
 Your Grace's most obedient, 
 And most humble servant, 
 
 D. HUMPHREYS. 
 New-Tor k, July 4, 1790,
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Ifige. 
 INTRODUCTORY Pieces. 
 
 Address to the Armies of the United States 1 
 
 A Poem on the Happiness of America 19 
 
 A Poem on the Future Glory of the United States 45 
 
 Remarks on the war between the United States and Tripoli 67 
 
 Thoughts on the Necessity of maintaining a Navy 77 
 
 A Poem on the Industry of the United States 89 
 
 A Poem on the Love of Country 115 
 
 A Poem on the Death of General Washington 149 
 
 Elegy on the burning of Fairfiekl 191 
 Elegiac Stanzas on De Hart 
 
 Epitaph on Scammel 195 
 Sleighing Adventures 196 
 Burlesque Epithalamiurn on the real Marriage of a Coxcomb and Co 
 quette 202 
 Impromptu an Ode 210 
 Epistle written at Sea 211 
 The Answer 215 
 A Pastoral from the French 222 
 Mount-Vernon, an Ode 223 
 Genius of America 225 
 The Monkey, a Fable 227 
 Prologue to the Widow of Malabar, a Tragedy 228 
 Epilogue to the same 229 
 Sonnets 232238 
 Farewell from the Abbe O'Moore 238 
 Life of Putnam 241 
 Political Situation of the United States in 1789 331 
 Dissertation on the Merino Breed of Sheep 343 
 Considerations on the Means of improving the Public Defence 359 
 Proceedings for obtaining an Act of the Legislature for securing the 
 Funds of the Cincinnati, in the State of Connecticut 373 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Letter I. From General Washington to Colonel Humphreys 383 
 
 Letter II. From the same to the same 385 
 
 Letter III. From the same to the same 387 
 
 Letter IV. From the same to the same 390 
 
 Letter V. From the same to the same 391 
 French Tribute of Respect to the Memory of General Washington 393 
 
 American Tribute of Respect to Colonel Humphreys 394
 
 RECOMMENDATORY EXTRACTS. 
 
 Extract from SNOWDEN'S Poem on the American War. 
 
 " A ROM rank to rank the hero mov'd along ; 
 Here gallant HUMPHREYS charm'd the list'ning throng; 
 Sweetly he sung, amid the clang of arms, 
 His numbers smooth, replete with winning charms ; 
 In him there shone a great and godlike mind, 
 The Poet's wreath around the laurel twin'd !" 
 
 Extract from BARLOW'* Vision of Columbus. 
 
 " WHILE Freedom's cause his patriot bosom warms, 
 In lore of nations skill'd, and brave in arms, 
 See HUMPHREYS glorious from the field retire, 
 Sheathe the glad sword, and string the sounding lyre- 
 That lyre, which erst, in hours of dark despair, 
 Rous'd the sad realms to urge th' unfinished war : 
 O'er fallen friends, with all the strength of woe, 
 His heartfelt sighs in moving numbers flow. 
 His country's wrongs, her duties, dangers, praise, 
 Fire his full soul, and animate his lays. 
 Immortal WASHINGTON with joy shall own 
 So fond a fav'rite, and so great a son." 
 
 A
 
 Extract from the Critical Review for June, 1785. 
 
 " THE performance (i. e. the Address to the Armies of 
 America) may, with some trifling exceptions, be justly 
 styled a good poem, but not a very pleasing one to good 
 Englishmen." 
 
 Extract from the Monthly Review for May, 1785. 
 
 THE Reviewers, after mentioning the indulgence to 
 which the Author of the Poem addressed to the Armies 
 of America is entitled, on account of his having written 
 it amidst the " hurly-burly" of military toils, proceed to 
 observe: " Under every disadvantage, however, we per 
 ceive, in his conceptions, much of the true spirit of poetry ; 
 and there is a considerable degree of melody and harmony 
 in his versification. He is a warm patriot ; full of zeal for 
 the prosperity of the American arms ; and, consequently, 
 to the English reader some of his expressions respecting 
 the British invasion will seem to have fallen from a pen 
 dipped in gall ; but we must remember that he wrote, as 
 well as fought, in America, and for America. He cele 
 brates the principal events of the war, and has many de 
 scriptive glances at the scenery^ which cannot but afford 
 amusement to even his readers on this side of the Atlantic, 
 however they may disapprove the cause which gave birth 
 to the Poem." 
 
 Strictures on a Poem addressed to the American Armies. 
 From the Journal de Paris, May 7, 1786. 
 
 " A GREAT many remarkable circumstances render this 
 little performance worthy of the public attention. It was 
 composed in America, in 1782, at the encampment of
 
 STRICTURES, fcc. xi 
 
 General Washington, when the British still occupying 
 New- York and Charleston, the great cause of American 
 liberty was not then decided. The author is an American 
 officer, writing in the midst of the tumult of a camp, and 
 conciliating the occupations and duties of his profession, 
 with that silence and meditation which every poetical com 
 position demands. The translator is a French General 
 Officer (M. le M. de CHASTELLUX) in whom the talents of 
 a great military and literary character are acknowledged to 
 be blended in a very extraordinary degree. 
 
 " The object of the work is to animate the citizens of 
 America to the defence of their country. The march of 
 the poet is easy and unaffected ; his ideas are noble and just, 
 his sentiments amiable; and his translator, animated with 
 the same spirit, and endowed with the same talents, has 
 not only transfused into our language the beauties of the 
 original, but even added new ones to them. 
 
 " The translator himself announces, in his letter to Col. 
 HUMPHREYS, that he has not piqued himself upon being 
 literal, and that he has taken some liberties in his transla 
 tion. But he is right in saying that this liberty does not 
 go so far as independence ; for that which he adds is so con 
 nected with the text itself, that it may be considered as a 
 developement of his author's idea ; and what he retrenches 
 (being commonly foreign to our idiom and phraseology) 
 would not have been preserved by the American author 
 himself, if, more familiarised with our language, he had 
 been pleased to translate his work into French. This li 
 berty may be criticised; but we will say, in justification of 
 the translator, that the author is very far from complaining 
 of it. 
 
 " This little poem is scarcely susceptible of extracts: 
 we will only cite the apostrophe to General WASHINGTON, 
 when he comes to take command of the American army.
 
 " O first of heroes, fav'rite of the skies, 
 To what dread toils thy country bade thee rise ! 
 ' Oh rais'd by heav'n to save th' invaded state !' 
 (So spake the sage long since thy future fate) 
 'Twas thine to change the sweetest scenes of life 
 For public cares to guide th' embattled strife ; 
 Unnumber'd ills of ev'ry kind to dare, 
 The winter's blast, the summer's sultry air, 
 The lurking dagger, and the turbid storms 
 Of wasting war, with death in all his forms. 
 Nor aught could daunt. Unspeakably serene, 
 Thy conscious soul smil'd o'er the dreadful scene." 
 
 " The recital of the death of BROWN, who perished in an 
 ambuscade of savages; of SCAMMEL, who was assassinated 
 by a pistol-shot in the reins, at the moment after he had 
 surrendered himself to a detachment of English ; and that 
 of Col. LAURENS, son to the famous LAURENS, President 
 of Congress, will ever be read with sympathetic sorrow. 
 The descriptions of the author are full of animation, his 
 regrets of sensibility ; end the translator has not rested be 
 low his model. 
 
 " The reader will, moreover, remark, with pleasure, the 
 contrast which the author has had the art to introduce, in a 
 skilful manner, between the two very distinct parts of his 
 poem. In the first he paints the dangers which America 
 experienced, and the calamities of war which desolated her 
 for so long a period. In the last he collects only delightful 
 ideas and pictures of happiness; he unfolds to America 
 the auspicious effects of that liberty she had obtained, and 
 the felicity she is about to enjoy. He invites his fellow 
 citizens, for whom the task of glory is hencefordi accom 
 plished, to transport themselves upon the borders of the 
 lakes, and upon the fertile banks of the Belle Riviere,* a 
 river most worthy of its name. He represents to them all 
 the beauties which nature hath lavished upon those happy 
 
 * The name by which the Ohio is known in French.
 
 CHASTELLUX'S INTRODUCTORY LETTER, adii 
 
 regions, as a recompense to make them forget, on the bo 
 som of rural felicity, the toils which they have endured for 
 their country. 
 
 " In fine, he predicts the future prosperity of this nascent 
 empire, which rises upon a plan dictated by wisdom, and 
 which will for ever remain the asylum of happiness and 
 liberty." 
 
 
 Translation of the Introductory Letter prefixed by the Marquis 
 de CHASTELLUX to the French Edition of this Poem. 
 
 *' I WAS with you, my dear Colonel, when, after a glo 
 rious campaign, you composed in silence those elegant 
 verses, wherein you have displayed the whole extent of 
 your genius, in only wishing to express your patriotic sen 
 timents. You made a mystery of the matter to me and 
 your modesty has exposed you to commit an unpardonable 
 fault against the alliance that you have so nobly celebrated ; 
 since the European nation which has had the first fruits of 
 your poem is precisely the English: but it is proper to 
 acknowledge, on the present, as well as on many other 
 occasions, this nation has proved that its enmity does not 
 extend to merit and talents. All the public papers which 
 are printed in London have made your praises resound, 
 and those very papers have first disclosed your secret. It 
 is true, I have seen some of them, the authors of which 
 appeared to be vexed that a composition in which the Eng 
 lish are not treated with ceremony should obtain the honours 
 of public readings and public applauses ;* and who wished 
 
 * The Morning Herald, and other English papers, made mention of 
 the lecture of the poem in question, made in public, apparently in clubs 
 or other places, where people enter by ticket.
 
 3dv CHASTELLUX'S INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 
 
 to despoil you of your most illustrious title, that of being 
 an American, by making you to be born in, I know not 
 what district of, England. However that may be, it is 
 certain that France had reason to complain. Of no avail 
 will it be for you to say that your work is written in Eng 
 lish: do you not know how much that language is in vogue 
 among us, and how much we are disposed to translate it? 
 I will not disguise any thing. It has happened that your 
 friend, your companion in arms, came to seize possession, 
 at your apartments, of a beautiful copy of your poem, 
 printed at London with all the accuracy and magnificence 
 which they always bestow on every important work. It 
 has, moreover, fallen to his lot to avail himself of your 
 absence* for making it known to his countrymen. For 
 making it known! that is saying too much; but at least to 
 give some idea to those who are not sufficiently acquainted 
 with the English language to read it with facility. I have 
 caused the text to be printed with the translation. This is 
 a very generous proceeding, with which, I contend, you 
 ought to be mightily satisfied. Every reader who may be 
 in a condition to compare one with the other, will often 
 cry out, " He has not known how to render all the energy, 
 all the beauty of the original ;" and that is exactly what I 
 desire. There is not a pretty woman who does not pardon 
 her painter for not making her as handsome as she really is, 
 whenever she is placed by the side of her portrait ; then 
 not a comparison but what proves to her advantage ; and 
 comparison is of all praises the most flattering, because it 
 is the most perceptible, the most precise. My object will, 
 therefore, be entirely completed, since all the criticisms 
 which I shall merit will turn to your glory. Being a trans 
 lator in prose, and a translator who does not pique himself 
 
 * This letter was addressed to Colonel HUMPHREYS while he was in 
 England.
 
 CHASTELLUX'S INTRODUCTORY LETTER. xv 
 
 upon being literal, I should have much to fear from my 
 author, if that author was not Col. HUMPHREYS, whom I 
 wish in every point to make my model. He loves liberty 
 too much to be offended at what I have taken on this occa 
 sion: this liberty shall not go quite to independence. This 
 is all I promise in assuring him that I will always be more 
 faithful to that friendship he has accorded me, than to the 
 text of which I took possession." 
 
 Le Marquis de Chastellux.
 

 
 ADDRESS 
 
 TO THE 
 
 ARMIES 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 A ERHAPS the following little poem may be considered 
 with the more indulgence by the public after it shall be 
 known, that it was actually written at a period* when the 
 army was in the field, and the author so far engaged in the 
 duties of his profession, as to have but little leisure for sub. 
 jects of literature or amusement. And it will not be necessary 
 to demonstrate to those who have the least knowledge of a 
 military life, how unfavourable such a state is to poetical 
 contemplation. This, it is presumed, may pertinently be 
 urged in excuse for the slighter errors and inaccuracies of the 
 performance : and the design must, in some measure, atone 
 for any of a different complexion. 
 
 To inspire our countrymen, now in arms, or who may 
 hereafter be called into the field, with perseverance and for 
 titude, through every species of difficulty and danger, to con 
 tinue their exertions for the defence of their country, and the 
 preservation of its liberties, is the object of this address. 
 
 For this purpose it was imagined no considerations could 
 be more effectual than the recollection of the past, and the 
 
 * While the American army was encamped at Peek's-Kill, and the enemy occupied t!i 
 heights of New-York and Charleston.
 
 4 PREFACE. 
 
 anticipation of the future. For where is the man to be 
 found, who, after all that has been done and suffered after 
 such a profusion of blood and treasure has been expended, 
 and such important advantages have been obtained would 
 basely relinquish and leave unfinished the illustrious task of 
 rearing an empire, which, from its situation and circum 
 stances, must surpass all that have ever existed, in magnitude, 
 felicity, and duration ? 
 
 Although the author entertains the most sanguine expecta 
 tions of the gratitude and liberality with which the continent 
 will reward those who have literally borne the heat and burden 
 of the day of war, he has not insisted on those pecuniary or 
 slighter considerations ; but has attempted to turn the atten 
 tion to the future grandeur, happiness and glory of the coun 
 try for which we are now contending. The lands already 
 granted to the army, first suggested the idea of a military 
 settlement on the Ohio, or some of those western regions, 
 whose beauties can never be sufficiently displayed, much 
 less exaggerated by description. The mild temperature and 
 serenity of the air, the salubrity of the climate, the fertility 
 of the soil, the luxuriance of its products, the extent of ter 
 ritory, and the amazing inland navigation which those bound 
 less lakes and immeasurable rivers will open, cannot fail, one 
 day, to render that garden of the world equal to the repre 
 sentation given of it in the conclusion of the poem. The 
 possession of such a country (rescued from the hand of in 
 vasion), in a perfect state of freedom and security, will be a 
 glorious compensation for all our toils and sufferings, and a 
 monument of the most unparalleled bravery and patriotism
 
 PREFACE, 5 
 
 to the remotest posterity. Stimulated with the love of glory, 
 allured by these delightful prospects, and animated with the 
 pleasing hope of the speedy fruition of those rapturous 
 scenes, there are thousands who have drawn the sword, with 
 a resolution never to sheathe it until a happy period shall be 
 put to the contest. For himself, the writer declares, that, 
 having already devoted whatsoever talents and abilities nature 
 has conferred upon him to the service of his country, no 
 efforts that can be made with his voice, his pen, or his sword, 
 shall ever be wanting to confirm its LIBERTIES and 
 
 INDEPENDENCE.
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 The armies which are addressed designated, and the subject pro 
 posed Great-Britain commences hostility against her Colonies 
 ^-the Colonies arm contrast of the two armies battle of Bun- 
 ker's-Hill a Commander in Chief appointed to the American 
 armies his character augmentation of the American forces - 
 reinforcements to those of Britain peculiarly affecting circum 
 stances which attended the deaths of Brown, Scammel and 
 Laurens eulogium of the American troops anticipation that 
 their meritorious services and sufferings will be consigned to 
 immortality apostrophe to Britain on the cruelty practised 
 upon prisoners, and its effects in exciting such indignation in 
 the Americans as will tend to the emancipation of their country 
 view of the successes of the American arms at Trenton, 
 Princeton, Saratoga, Stony-Point, in the Southern States, and 
 at York-Town tribute of gratitude to the French King and 
 nation still the Americans are to rely on their own resources 
 for the establishment of independence apostrophe to indepen 
 dence Britain obliged to relinquish her ideas of conquest 
 dawn of peace invocation to peace address to the armies on 
 the happiness to be expected from it invitation for them to 
 settle in the western country its beauties and advantages de 
 scribed enjoyments resulting from the friendship of those who 
 were in arms together character of Americans in different 
 ages improvements of every kind in America prayer to the 
 Supreme Being that its felicity may become complete and per 
 petual.
 
 ADDRESS TO THE ARMIES 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 Jam fides, et pax, et honor, pudorque 
 Priscus, et neglecta redire virtus 
 Audet ; apparetque beata pleno 
 Copia cornu. 
 
 HOR. 
 
 Incipient magni procedere menses. 
 
 VlRG. 
 
 JL E martial bands ! Columbia's fairest pride I 
 To toils inur'd, in dangers often try'd 
 Ye gallant youths ! whose breasts for glory burn, 
 Each selfish aim and meaner passion spurn : 
 Ve who, unmov'd, in the dread hour have stood, 5 
 
 And smil'd, undaunted, in the field of blood 
 Who greatly dar'd, at Freedom's rapt'rous call, 
 With her to triumph, or with her to fall- 
 Now brighter days in prospect swift ascend ; 
 Ye sons of fame, the hallow 'd theme attend ; 10 
 
 The past review ; the future scene explore, 
 And Heav'n's high King with grateful hearts adore I 
 
 What time proud Albion, thund'ring o'er the waves, 
 Frown'd on her sons, and bade them turn to slaves > 
 When, lost to honour, virtue, glory, shame, 15 
 
 When nought remain 'd of Britain but the name 
 The parent state a parent now no more 
 Let loose the hirelings of despotic power, 
 Urg'd to keen vengeance their relentless ire, 
 And hop'd submission from their sword and firr. 20
 
 ADDRESS TO THE ARMIES OF THE 
 
 As when dark clouds, from Andes' tow'ring head, 
 Roll down the skies, and round th' horizon spread, 
 With thunders fraught, the black'ning tempest sails, 
 And bursts tremend'ous o'er Peruvian vales: 
 So broke the storm, on Concord's fatal plain ; 25 
 
 There fell our brothers, by fierce ruffians slain 
 Inglorious deed I to wild despair then driv'n, 
 We, suppliant, made our great appeal to heav'n. 
 Then the shrill trumpet echo'd from afar, 
 And sudden blaz'd the wasting flame of war ; 30 
 
 From State to State, swift flew the dire alarms, 
 And ardent youths, impetuous, rush'd to arms: 
 " To arms" the matrons and the virgins sung, 
 To arms, their sires, their husbands, brothers sprung. 
 No dull delay where'er the sound was heard, 35 
 
 Where the red standards in the air appear'd, 
 Where, through vast realms, the cannon swell'd its roar, 
 Between th' Acadian and Floridian shore. 
 
 
 
 Now join'd the crowd, from their far distant farms, 
 In rustic guise, and unadorn'd in arms: 40 
 
 Not like their foes, in tinsel trappings gay, 
 And burnish'd arms that glitter'd on the day; 
 Who now advanc'd, where Charlestown rear'd its height, 
 In martial pomp, and claim'dthe awful sight; 
 And proudly deem'd, with one decisive blow, 45 
 
 To hurl destruction on the routed foe. 
 Not so just heav'n had fix'd the great decree, 
 And bade the sons of freemen still be free ; 
 Bade all their souls with patriot ardour burn, 
 And taught the coward fear of death to spurn ; 50 
 
 The threats of vengeance and of war to brave, 
 To purchase freedom, or a glorious grave. 
 Long rag'd the contest on th' embattled field ; 
 Nor those would fly, nor these would tamely yield 
 Till Warren fell, in all the boast of arms, 55 
 
 The pride of genius and unrivall'd charms, 
 His country's hope! full soon the gloom was spread: 
 Oppress'd with numbers, and their leader dead, 
 Slow from the field the sullen troops retir'd ; 
 Behind, the hostile flame to heav'n aspir'd. 60 
 
 Th' imperious Britons, on the well-fought ground, 
 No cause for joy or wanton triumph found,
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 9 
 
 But saw with grief their dreams of conquest vain, 
 Fejt the deep wounds, and mourn'd their vet'rans slain. 
 
 Nor less our woes. Now darkness gather'd round ; 65 
 The thunder rumbled, and the tempest frown'd ; 
 When lo ! to guide us through the storm of war, 
 Beam'd the bright splendour of Virginia's star. 
 O first of heroes, fav'rite of the skies, 
 
 To what dread toils thy country bade thee rise ! 70 
 
 " Oh rais'd by heav'n to save th' invaded state 1"* 
 (So spake the sage long since thy future fate) 
 'Twas tkine to change the sweetest scenes of life 
 For public cares to guide th' embattled strife ; 
 Unnumber'd ills of ev'ry kind to dare, 75 
 
 The winter's blast, the summer's sultry air, 
 The lurking dagger, and the turbid storms 
 Of wasting war, with death in all his forms. 
 Nor aught could daunt. Unspeakably serene, 
 Thy conscious soul smil'd o'er the dreadful scene* 80 
 
 The foe then trembled at the well known name ; 
 And raptur'd thousands to his standard came. 
 His martial skill our rising armies form'd ; 
 His patriot zeal their gen'rous bosoms warm'd: 
 His voice inspir'd, his godlike presence led. 85 
 
 The Britons saw, and from his presence fled. 
 Soon reinfore'd from Albion's crowded shore, 
 New legions came, new plains were drench'd in gore j 
 And scarce Columbia's arm the fight sustains, 
 While her best blood gush'd from a thousand veins. 90 
 
 Then thine, O Brown ! that purpled wide the ground, 
 Pursued the knife through many a ghastly wound. 
 Ah hapless friend I permit the tender tear 
 To flow e'en now, for none flow'd on thy bier, 
 Where cold and mangled, under northern skies, 95 
 
 To famish *d wolves a prey thy body lies ; 
 Which erst so fair and tall in youthful grace, 
 Strength in thy nerves, and beauty in thy face, 
 Stood like a tow'r, till struck by the swift ball ; 
 Tken what avail'd (to award th' untimely fall) 100 
 
 * Tliis ulluiies to expressions made use of by president Davies,in a sermon preached at Ha- 
 ovfr, in Virginia, daring U:e war of 175."). 
 
 c
 
 10 ADDRESS TO THE ARMIES OF THE 
 
 The force of limbs, the mind so well inform 'd, 
 
 The taste refin'd r the breast with friendship warm'd, 
 
 (That friendship which our earliest years begun) 
 
 Or what the laurels that thy sword had won, 
 
 When the dark bands from thee, expiring, tore 105 
 
 Thy long hair mingled with the spouting gore ? 
 
 Nor less, brave Scamme], frown 'd thine angry fate, 
 
 (May deathless shame that British deed await 1) 
 
 On York's fam'd field, amid the first alarms, 
 
 Ere yet fair vict'ry crown'd the allied arms, 110 
 
 Fell chance betray'd thee to the hostile band, 
 
 The hapless victim of th' assassin handl 
 
 Lo ! while I tell the execrable deed, 
 
 Fresh in his side the dark wound seems to bleed ; 
 
 That small red current still for vengeance cries, 115 
 
 And asks, " Why sleeps the thunder in the skies ?" 
 
 On him, ye heav'ns, let all your vengeance fall, 
 
 On the curst wretch who wing'd th' insidious ball. 
 
 But thou, blest shade, be sooth'd ! be this thy praise, 
 
 Ripe were thy virtues, though too few thy days ! 120 
 
 Be this thy fame, through life of all appi-ov'd, 
 
 To die lamented, honour'd, and belov'd. 
 
 And see, far south, where yonder hearse appears, 
 An army mourning, and a land in tears ! 
 There Laurens, passing to an early tomb, 125 
 
 Looks like a flow'r just with'ring in its bloom. 
 Thy father's pride, the glory of our host I 
 Thy country's sorrow, late thy country's boast ! 
 O Laurens ! gen'rous youth ! twice hadst thou bled ; 
 Could not the ball with devious aim have sped ? 130 
 
 And must thy friends, now peace appears so near, 
 Weep the third stroke that cuts a life so dear ; 
 That blots the prospect of our rising morn, 
 And leaves thy country, as thy sire, forlorn ? 
 Companions lov'd ! long as the life-blood flows, 135 
 
 Or vital warmth in this fond bosom glows, 
 While there I cherish your remembrance dear, 
 Oft will I drop the tributary tear. 
 
 But what avails to trace the fate of war 
 
 Through fields of blood, and point each glorious scar ? 140 
 Why should the strain your former woes recall, 
 The tears that wept a friend or brother's fall,
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 11 
 
 When by your side first in th' advent'rous strife, 
 
 He dauntless rush'd, too prodigal of life ? 
 
 Enough of merit has each honour'd name, 145 
 
 To shine, untarnish'd, on the rolls of fame; 
 
 To stand th' example of each distant age, 
 
 And add new lustre to th' historic page : 
 
 For soon their deeds, illustrious, shall be shown 
 
 In breathing bronze, or animated stone, 150 
 
 Or where the canvass, starting into life, 
 
 Revives the glories of the crimson strife. 
 
 Ye sons of genius, who the pencil hold, 
 Whose master strokes, beyond description bold, 
 Of other years and climes the hist'ry trace, 155 
 
 Can ye for this neglect your kindred race ? 
 Columbia calls her parent voice demands 
 More grateful off 'rings from your filial hands. 
 And soon some bard shall tempt the untiy'd themes, 
 Sing how we dar'd, in Fortune's worst extremes ; 160 
 
 What cruel wrongs th' indignant patriot bore, 
 What various ills your feeling bosoms tore, 
 What boding terrors gloom'd the threat'ning hour, 
 When British legions, arm'd with death-like pow'r, 
 Bade desolation mark their crimson'd way, 16a 
 
 And lur'd the savage to his destin'd prey ; 
 When fierce Germania her battalions pour'd, 
 And Rapine's sons, with wasting fire and sword, 
 Spread death around : where'er your eyes ye turn'd, 
 Fled were the peasants, and the village burn'd. 170 
 
 How did your hearts for others' sufferings melt! 
 What tort'ring pangs your bleeding country felt! 
 What ! when you fled before superior force, 
 Each succour lost, and perish'd each resource ! 
 When nature, fainting from the want of food, ITS 
 
 On the white snow your steps were mark'd in blood! 
 When through your tatter'd garbs you met the wind, 
 Despair before, and ruin frown 'd behind t 
 When nought was seen around, but prospects drear, 
 Th' insulting foe hung dreadful on your rear, 180 
 
 And boastful ween'd, that day to close the scene, 
 And quench your name, as though it ne'er had been. 
 
 Why, Britain, rag'd thine insolence and scorn ? 
 Why burst thy vengeance on the wretch forlorn?
 
 if ADDRESS TO THE ARMIES OF THE 
 
 The cheerless captive, to slow death consign 'd, 183 
 
 Chill'd with keen frost, in prison glooms confin'd ; 
 
 Of hope bereft, by thy vile minions curst, 
 
 With hunger famish'd, and consum'd with thirst, 
 
 Without one friend when death's last horror stung, 
 
 Roll'd the wild eye, and gnaw'd the anguish'd tongue. 190 
 
 Why, Britain, in thine arrogance and pride, 
 Didst thou heav'n's violated laws deride, 
 Mock human mis'ry with contemptuous sneers, 
 And fill thy cup of guilt with orphans' tears ? 
 The widow's wailing, and the wretch's groan, 195 
 
 Rise in remembrance to th' eternal throne, 
 While the red flame, through the broad concave driv'n, 
 Calls down the vengeance of insulted heav'n. 
 And didst thou think, by cruelty refin'd, 
 To damp the ardour of the heav'n-born mind, 200 
 
 With haughty threats to force the daring train 
 To bow, unnerv'd, in slav'ry's galling chain ; 
 Make countless freemen then no longer free, 
 Shrink at thy frown, and bend the servile knee? 
 And couldst thou dream ? then wake, dissolve thy charms, 
 Rous'd by their wrongs, see desp'rate hosts in arms! 206 
 No fear dismays, nor danger's voice appals, 
 While kindred blood for sacred vengeance calls: 
 Their swords shall triumph o'er thy vaunted force, 
 And curb the conqu'ror in his headlong course. 210 
 
 What spoils of war, thy sons, Columbia, claim 'd! 
 What trophies rose, where thy red ensigns flam'd! 
 Where the great chief, o'er Del'ware's icy wave, 
 Led the small band, in danger doubly brave ; 
 On high designs, and ere the dawning hour, 21$ 
 
 Germania's vet'ran's own'dthe victor's pow'r; 
 Or on the muse's plain, where round thy tomb, 
 O gallant Mercer ! deathless laurels bloom ; 
 Or where, anon, in northern fields renown'd, 
 The tide of slaughter stain'd the sanguine ground;; 220 
 
 When the bold freemen, gath'ring from afar, 
 Foil'd the proud foe, and crush'd the savage war : 
 On that brave band their country's plaudit waits, 
 And consecrates to fame the name of Gates. 
 Nor less the valour of the impetuous shock, 235 
 
 Which seiz'd the glorious prize on Hudson's rock,
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 13 
 
 Where Wayne, e'en while he felt the whizzing ball, 
 
 Pluck'd the proud standard from the vanquish'd wall. 
 
 Now turn your eyes, where southern realms are seen, 
 
 From ruin rescu'd, by th' immortal Greene: 230 
 
 See toils of death, where many a hei'o bleeds-, 
 
 Till rapid vict'ry, to defeat, succeeds. 
 
 On num'rous plains, whose streams, unknown to song, 
 
 Till this great sera, roll'd obscure along, 
 
 Their names shall now, to fame familiar grown, 235 
 
 Outlast the pile of monumental stone. 
 
 Or see on fair Virginia's strand arise, 
 
 The column pointing to the fav'ring skies ; 
 
 Inscrib'd with deeds the fed'rate arms have done, 
 
 And grav'd with ti'ophies from Britannia won : 249 
 
 Here stand the conqu'ring bands ; the vanquish 'd throng 
 
 Through the long lines in silence move along: 
 
 The stars and lilies, here in laurels drest, 
 
 And there, dark shrouds the banner'd pride invest: 
 
 These twice twelve banners once in pomp unfurl'd, 245 
 
 Spread death and terror round the southern world : 
 
 In various colours from the staff unroll'd, 
 
 The lion frown'd, the eagle flam'd in gold ; 
 
 Hibernia's harp, reluctant, hei'e was hung, 
 
 And Scotia's thistle there spontaneous sprung: 250 
 
 These twice twelve flags no more shall be display'd, 
 
 Save in the dome where warlike spoils are laid: 
 
 Since, where the fathers in high council meet, 
 
 This hand has plac'd them prostrate at their feet. 
 
 So beam the glories of the victor band ! 255 
 
 And such the dawning hope that cheers our land ! 
 Since Gallia's fire, intent on cares of state, 
 Sublimely good, magnanimously great ! 
 Protector of the rights of human kind, 
 
 Weigh'd the dread contest in his royal mind, 260 
 
 And bade his fleets o'er the broad ocean fly, 
 To succour realms beneath another sky ! 
 Since his blest troops, in happiest toils allied, 
 Have fought, have bled, have conquer'd by your side : 
 The mingled stream, in the same trench that flow'd, ' 265 
 Cements the nations by tlreir heroes' blood. 
 
 Yet still, Columbians, sec what choice remains, 
 Ignoble bondage and inglorious chains,
 
 ADDRESS TO THE ARMIES OF THE 
 
 Or all the joys which liberty can give, 
 
 For which you dare to die, or wish to live. 270* 
 
 On the drawn sword your country's fate depends : 
 
 Your wives, your children, parents, brothers, friends^ 
 
 With all the tender charities of life, 
 
 Hang on the issue of the arduous strife. 
 
 To bolder deeds, and victory's fierce delights, 275 
 
 Your country calls, and heav'n itself invites. 
 Charm 'd by their potent voice, let virtue's flame, 
 The sense of honour, and the fear of shame, 
 The thirst of praise, and freedom's envied cause, 
 The smiles of heroes, and the world's applause, 280 
 
 Impel each breast, in glory's dread career, 
 Firm as your rock-rais'd hills, to persevere. 
 
 Now the sixth year of independence smiles, 
 The glorious meed of all our warlike toils ; 
 Auspicious pow'r, with thy broad flag unfurPd, 285 
 
 Shed thy stern influence on our western world 1 
 With thy congenial flame our hearts inspire, 
 With manly patience and heroic fire, 
 The rudest shock of fortune's storm to bear: 
 Each ill to suffer ; every death to dare ; 290 
 
 To rush undaunted in th' advent'rous van, 
 And meet the Britons, man oppos'd to man ; 
 With surer aim repel their barb'rous rage; 
 Shield the poor orphan, and the white-hair'd sage ; 
 Defend the matron, and the virgin's charms, 295 
 
 And vindicate our sacred rights with arms. 
 This the great genius of our land requires, 
 This the blest shades of our illustrious sires, 
 This the brave sons of future years demand, 
 Cheers the faint heart, and nerves the feeble hand ; 300 
 
 This sacred hope, that points beyond the span 
 Which bounds this transitory life of man, 
 Where glory lures us with her bright renown. 
 The hero's triumph, and the patriot's crown ; 
 The fair reward to suff'ring virtue giv'n, 305 
 
 Pure robes of bliss, and starry thrones in heav'n. 
 
 Chang'd are the scenes ; now fairer prospects rise, 
 And brighter suns begin to gild our skies.
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 15 
 
 Th' exhausted foe, his last poor effort try'd, 
 
 Sees nought remain, save impotence and pride: 310 
 
 His golden dreams of fancied conquest o'er, 
 
 (And Gallia thund'ring round his native shore, 
 
 Iberia aiding with Potosi's mines, 
 
 While brave Batavia in the conflict joins) 
 
 Reluctant turns, and, deep involv'd in woes, 315 
 
 In other climes prepares for other foes. 
 
 Anon, the horrid sounds of war shall cease, 
 And all the western world be hush'd in peace : 
 The martial clarion shall be heard no more, 
 Nor the loud cannon's desolating roar : 320 
 
 No more our heroes pour the purple flood, 
 No corse be seen with garments roll'd in blood ; 
 No shivering wretch shall roam without a shed; 
 No pining orphans i*aise their cry for bread ; 
 No tender mother shriek at dreams of woe, 325 
 
 Start from her sleep, and see the midnight foe ; 
 The lovely virgin, and the hoary sire, 
 No more behold the village flame aspire, 
 While the base spoiler, from a father's arms, 
 Plucks the fair flower, and riots on its charms. 330 
 
 E'en now, from half the threaten'd horrors freed, 
 See from our shores the less'ning sails recede : 
 See the red flags, that to the wind unfurl'd, 
 Wav'd in proud triumph round the vanquish'd world, 
 Inglorious fly ; and see their haggard crew, 335 
 
 Despair, rage, shame, and infamy pursue. 
 
 Hail, heav'n-born Peace ! thy grateful blessings pour 
 On this glad land, and round the peopled shore: 
 Thine are the joys that gild the happy scene, 
 Propitious days, and festive nights serene; 340 
 
 With thee gay Pleasure frolics o'er the plain, 
 And smiling Plenty leads thy prosp'rous train. 
 
 Then oh, my friends 1 the task of glory done, 
 Tli' immortal prize by your bold efforts won ; 
 Your country's saviours, by her voice confess'd, 345 
 
 While unborn ages rise and call you blest 
 Then let us go when: happier climes invite, 
 To midland seas, and regions of delight;
 
 16 ADDRESS TO THE ARMIES OF THE 
 
 With all that's ours, together let us rise, 
 
 Seek brighter plains and more indulgent skies ; 350 
 
 Where fair Ohio rolls his amber tide, 
 
 And nature blossoms in her virgin pride ; 
 
 Where all that beauty's hand can form to please, 
 
 Shall crown the toils of war with rural ease. 
 
 The shady coverts and the sunny hills, 355 
 
 The gentle lapse of ever-murm'ring rills, 
 
 The soft repose amid the noon-tide bow'rs, 
 
 The evening walk among the blushing flow'rs, 
 
 The fragrant groves that yield a sweet perfume, 
 
 And vernal glories in perpetual bloom, 360 
 
 Await you there; and heav'n shall bless the toil, 
 
 Your own the produce, as your own the soil. 
 
 No tyrant lord shall grasp a thousand farms, 
 Curse the mild clime, and spoil its fairest charms : 
 No blast severe your ripening fields deform, 365 
 
 No vollied hail-stones, and no driving storm : 
 No raging murrain on your cattle seize, 
 And nature sicken with the dire disease. 
 But golden years, anew, begin their reigns, 
 And cloudless sunshine gild salubrious plains. 3TQ 
 
 Herbs, fruits and flow'rs shall clothe th' uncultur'd field, 
 Nectareous juice the vine and orchard yield j 
 Rich dulcet creams the copious goblets fill, 
 Delicious honey from the trees distil ; 
 
 The garden smile, spontaneous harvests spring, 375 
 
 The vallies warble, and the woodlands ring. 
 
 Along the meads, or near the shady groves, 
 There sport the flocks, there feed the fatt'ning droves ; 
 There strays the steed, through bloomy vales afar, 
 Who erst mov'd lofty in the ranks of war. 380 
 
 There, free from envy, cank'ring care and strife, 
 Flow the calm pleasures of domestic life : 
 There mutual friendship soothes each placid breast, 
 Blest in themselves, and in each other blest. 
 From house to house the social glee extends, 385 
 
 For friends in war, in piece are doubly friends : 
 Their children taught to emulate their sires, 
 Catch the warm glow, and feel the kindred fires,
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. If 
 
 Till by degrees the mingling joys improve, 
 
 Grow with their years, and ripen into love: 390 
 
 Nor long the blushing pair in secret sigh, 
 
 And drink sweet poison from the love-sick eye ; 
 
 Blest be their lot, when in his eager arms 
 
 Th' enamour'd youth folds the fair virgin's charms ; 
 
 On her ripe lip imprints the burning kiss, 395 
 
 And seals with hallow'd rites the nuptial bliss. 
 
 Then festal sports the ev'ning hours prolong, 
 
 The mazy dance, and the sweet wai'bling song : 
 
 Then each endearment wakes the ravish'd sense 
 
 To pure delights, and raptures most intense: 400 
 
 And the pleas'd parent tells his list'ning son, 
 
 What wond'rous deeds, by him, in youth, were done. 
 
 No sights of woe, no tort'ring fears annoy 
 
 The sweet sensations of the heart-felt joy : 
 
 Nor shall the savages of murd'rous soul, 405 
 
 In painted bands dark to the combat roll, 
 
 With midnight orgies, by the gloomy shade, 
 
 On the pale victim point the reeking blade ; 
 
 Or cause the hamlet, lull'd in deep repose, 
 
 No more to wake, or wake to ceaseless woes : 410 
 
 For your strong arm the guarded land secures, 
 
 And freedom, glory, happiness, are yours! 
 
 So shall you nourish in unfading prime, 
 Each age refining through the reign of time j 
 A nobler offspring crown the fond embrace, 415 
 
 A band of heroes, and a patriot race : 
 Not by soft Luxury's too dainty food, 
 Their minds contaminated with their blood : 
 But like the heirs our great forefathers bred, 
 By freedom nurtur'd, and by temp'rance fed ; 420 
 
 Healthful and strong, they turn'd the virgin soil, 
 The untam'd forest bow'd beneath their toil : 
 At early dawh they sought the mountain chace, 
 Or rous'd the Indian from his lurking place; 
 Curb'd the mad fury of those barb'rous men, 425 
 
 Or dragg'd the wild beast struggling from his den : 
 To all the vigour of that pristine race, 
 New charms are added, and superior grace. 
 
 Then cities rise, and spiry towns increase, 
 With gilded domes, and every art of peace. 430 
 
 D
 
 ADDRESS TO THE ARMIES, See. 
 
 Then Cultivation shall extend his pow'r, 
 
 Rear the green blade, and nurse the tender flow'r ; 
 
 Make the fair villa in full splendours smile, 
 
 And robe with verdure all the genial soil. 
 
 Then shall rich Commerce court the fav'ring gales, 435 
 
 And wond'ring wilds admire the passing sails ; 
 
 Where the bold ships the stormy Huron brave, 
 
 Where wild Ontario rolls the whit'ning wave, 
 
 Where fair Ohio his pure current pours, 
 
 And Mississippi laves th' extended shores. 440 
 
 Then oh, blest land ! with genius unconfin'd, 
 With polish'd manners, and th' illumin'd mind, 
 Thy future race on daring wing shall soar, 
 Each science trace, and all the arts explore j 
 Till bright religion, beck'ning to the skies, 445' 
 
 Shall bid thy sons to endless glories rise. 
 
 As round thy clime celestial joy extends, 
 Thy beauties ripen, and thy pomp ascends ; 
 Farther and farther still, thy blessings roll, 
 To southern oceans and the northern pole ; 450 
 
 Where now the thorn, or tangled thicket grows, 
 The wilderness shall blossom as the rose ; 
 Unbounded deserts unknown charms assume, 
 Like Salem flourish, and like Eden bloom. 
 
 And oh, may heav'n ! when all our toils are past, 455 
 Crown with such happiness our days at last: 
 So rise our sons, like our great sires of old, 
 In Freedom's cause, unconquerably bold ; 
 With spotless faith, and morals pure, their name 
 Spread through the world, and gain immortal fame. 460 
 
 And thou Supreme ! whose hand sustains this ball, 
 Before whose nod the nations rise and fall, 
 Propitious smile, and shed diviner charms 
 On this blest land, the queen of arts and arms ; 
 Make the great empire rise on Wisdom's plan, 
 The seat of bliss, and last retreat of man, 466
 
 A 
 
 P O E M 
 
 ON THE 
 
 HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO THE CITIZENS OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 TENTH EDITION.
 
 Extract from the COLUMBIAN MAGAziNE/or October, 1786. 
 
 REMARKS 
 
 ON THE 
 
 HAPPINESS OF AMERICA: 
 A POEM. 
 
 A. LOVE of liberty, a spirit of enterprize, fortitude in diffi 
 culties, and a military turn of mind, are conspicuous traits in the 
 American character. Those dispositions, if properly directed, 
 will tend to the aggrandizement and prosperity of our infant re-, 
 publican empire. 
 
 America stands high, also, in literary reputation : and so 
 great is the spirit which now prevails in the United States, for the 
 promotion of useful learning, and advancement of science, that, 
 aided by the native genius of our people, we may reasonably ex 
 pect to arrive at the highest degree of eminence in these respects. 
 Nor have we cause to draw less favourable expectations from the 
 specimens that have been already exhibited, of the natural taste 
 and propensity of our countrymen for the liberal and polite arts. 
 
 Among the patriots, statesmen, heroes, philosophers, and artists 
 of this country, we find names that would do honour to any age or 
 nation. What a glorious constellation is formed by an assemblage 
 of those worthies, whom America has the honour of enrolling 
 among her sons ! 
 
 Amidst the favourite pursuits of our countrymen, the Muses 
 have had their votaries ; nor have those coy maids been unsuc 
 cessfully courted. Their genius seems much delighted with our 
 sylvan scenes. The face of nature, throughout the United States, 
 exhibits the sublime and beautiful, in the most exalted degree. In 
 almost every part of this country, we are surrounded with objects 
 calculated to inspire the most elevated conceptions of the imagina 
 tion. Our mountains, vallies, plains, and rivers, are formed upon 
 a great scale ; the extent of the country itself is great ; and the 
 whole is rendered magnificently beautiful, by the creating hand of 
 the Almighty Architect 1 And if we contemplate the eminently
 
 522 REMARKS, Sec. 
 
 dignified part that has been recently acted on the vast national 
 stage, with the scenes of magnanimity, wisdom, and patriotic vir 
 tue, which our gallant countrymen have exhibited thereon, we 
 must allow, that nothing can afford more noble themes for our na 
 tive bards. 
 
 Among the literary productions of American genius, " A Poem 
 on the Happiness of America, addressed to the Citizens of the 
 United States," by Colonel Humphreys, claims a superior station. 
 The beauties of this piece do great honour to the author, and dis 
 cover that he possesses a truly patriotic soul, as well as a mind 
 animated with genuine poetic fire. 
 
 As this elegant piece, by some unaccountable circumstance, has 
 not yet made its appearance in the shops of our booksellers, we 
 beg leave to present the public with a few quotations from it ; re 
 minding them, at the same time, of the imperfect idea of its merit 
 that mutilated parts of the piece must be supposed to convey. 
 
 As it is probable that a new edition of this Poem will speedily 
 be published, the public will then have the gratification of reading 
 it entire. 

 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 NINTH EDITION OF THE POEM 
 
 ON THE 
 
 HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 
 
 L HIS Poem having passed through eight editions in little more 
 than four years, without having been accompanied with any intro 
 duction or preface, the writer hopes he shall escape every uncan- 
 did imputation, in offering, with this edition, his acknowledgments 
 for the flattering reception it has met with from the public, toge 
 ther with some of the motives which originally engaged him in 
 this performance. 
 
 The writer is happy that he has chosen a subject more inter 
 esting than almost any other to the feelings of his countrymen, 
 and that the topics introduced in its discussion have not proved un 
 satisfactory to those for whose entertainment the work was de 
 signed. To these causes, rather than to its intrinsic value as a 
 composition, he attributes the distinguished regard with which it 
 has been honoured. 
 
 The United States of America, when first assuming their place 
 as a nation among the nations of the earth, presented a momen 
 tous and awful spectacle to mankind ; for the political welfare 
 of the species seemed, in some sort, involved in the event. The 
 theatre was vast } the plot new, the parts important, and the con-
 
 $4 PREFACE. 
 
 duct of the action for a long time so doubtful, as to produce dis 
 tressing apprehensions respecting its termination. The Ameri 
 cans, whose exertions and sufferings had been rewarded by the ac 
 quisition of Independence, were, however, at the end of the war, 
 surrounded with threatening prospects. In these circumstances 
 the writer endeavoured to show his countrymen the superior ad 
 vantages for happiness which they possessed ; to dissipate their 
 gloomy apprehensions, by the exhibition of consolatory anticipa 
 tions ; and to make them think favourably of their own situation 
 when compared with that of other nations. Many circumstances 
 conspired to give facility to the execution of the task he had im 
 posed on himself. The ideas were principally suggested by the 
 peculiarity of our condition. We began our political career, in a 
 great measure, free from the prejudice, and favoured with the 
 knowledge of former ages and other nations. The amiable inno 
 cence and simplicity of manners which resulted from the present 
 state of society in America, offered a curious subject for philoso 
 phical contemplation. Our minds, imperceptibly impressed with 
 the novelty, beauty, or sublimity of surrounding objects, gave en 
 ergy to the language which expressed our sensations. While the 
 shades of changing nature, which diversified the scenery through 
 all the intermediate stages of settlement and population, from the 
 rude grandeur of a wilderness to the pleasant landscapes of culti 
 vation, afforded an extensive field for variegated description. To 
 an assemblage of such magnificent images, so proper for poetry, 
 were added, a multitude of incidents derived from the delights of 
 agricultural life, the blessings of enlightened society, and the pro 
 gress of human improvements. The author, by thus availing 
 himself of circumstances, was enabled to gratify an early and de 
 cided propensity for contemplating the beauties of creation, espe 
 cially under that point of view in which they are most conspicu 
 ously beneficial to his fellow men.
 
 PREFACE. 25 
 
 Since this Poem was written, by the establishment of a general 
 government, and the concurrence of fortunate events, scenes of 
 happienss have been realized in this country, which were considered 
 by some altogether chimerical. And the prospects which are 
 now expanding before our view, seem peculiarly calculated to 
 excite us to greater exertions, not only for promoting the national 
 prosperity, but even for producing such examples in civil policy, as 
 will tend essentially to the amelioration of the human lot. 
 

 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 The characters to whom the fioem is addressed, and the subject of 
 it peace dissolution of the army General Washington's, 
 farewell advice and retirement apostrophe to him the hap 
 piness of the Americans considered as a free and agricultural 
 people articles which contribute to their felicity during the 
 different seasons winter's amusements, which produce a di 
 gression concerning the late war and the author the pleasures 
 which succeeded the horrors of war invocation to connubial 
 love description of the female sex and character, marriage 
 and domestic life in America the present state of society there 
 the face of the country at and since the period of its discovery 
 the pleasant prospects exhibited by the progress of agricul 
 ture and population eulogy of agriculture address to Con 
 gress the genius of the western world invoked to accelerate 
 our improvements a treaty of commerce proposed with Great- 
 Britain superior advantages for a marine America called 
 upon to employ her sons on discoveries in the carrying trade t 
 whaling and commerce*
 
 A POEM 
 
 ON THE 
 
 HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 
 
 happy people, ye to whom is giv'n 
 A land enrich 'd with sweetest dews of heav'n I 
 Ye, who possess Columbia's virgin prime, 
 In harvests blest of ev'ry soil and clime ! 
 Ye happy mortals, whom propitious fate 5 
 
 Reserv'd for actors on a stage so great ! 
 Sons worthy sires of venerable name, 
 Heirs of their virtue and immortal fame, 
 Heirs of their rights still better understood, 
 Declar'd in thunder, and confirm'd in blood : 10 
 
 Ye chosen race, your happiness I sing, 
 With all the joys the cherub peace can bring, 
 When your tall fleets shall lift their starry pride, 
 And sail triumphant o'er the bill'wy tide. 
 
 The song begins where all our bliss began, 15 
 
 What time th' Almighty check'd the wrath of man, 
 Distill'd, in bleeding wounds, the balm of peace, 
 And bade the rage of mortal discord cease. 
 Then foes, grown friends, from toils of slaughter breath'd, 
 Then war-worn ti'oops their blood-stain 'd weapons sheath 'd : 20 
 Then our great Chief to Vernon's shades withdrew, 
 And thus, to parting hosts, pronounc'd adieu : 
 
 " Farewell to public care, to public life : 
 11 Now peace invites me from the deathful strife. 
 " And oh my country, may'st thou ne'er forget 25 
 
 " Thy bands victorious, and thy honest debt ! 
 <l If aught which proves to me thy freedom dear, 
 " Gives me a claim to speak, thy sons shall hear : 
 " On them I call Compatriots dear and brave, 
 ** Deep in your breasts these warning truths engrave : 30
 
 38 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 
 
 " To guard your sacred rights be just ! be wise ! 
 
 " Thence flow your blessings, there your glory lies. 
 
 " Beware the feuds whence civil war proceeds ; 
 
 " Fly mean suspicions ; spurn inglorious deeds ; 
 
 Shun fell corruption's pestilential breath, 35 
 
 " To states the cause, and harbinger of death. 
 
 " Fly dissipation, in whose vortex whirl'd, 
 
 " Sink the proud nations of the elder world. 
 
 <{ Avoid the hidden snares that pleasure spreads, 
 
 " To seize and chain you, in her silken threads ; 40 
 
 " Let not the lust of gold nor pow'r enthral ; 
 
 " Nor list the wild ambition's frantic call. 
 
 " Stop, stop your ears to discord's curst alarms, 
 
 " Which, rousing, drive a mad'ning world to arms : 
 
 " But learn, from others' woes, sweet peace to prize, 45 
 
 " To know your bliss, and where your treasure lies 
 
 " Within the compass of your little farms, 
 
 " Lodg'd in your breasts, or folded in your arms : 
 
 " Blest in your clime, beyond all nations blest, 
 
 "Whom oceans guard, and boundless wilds invest. 50 
 
 " Nor yet neglect the native force which grows, 
 " Your shield from insult, and your wall from foes ; 
 *' But early train your youth, by mimic fights, 
 " To stand the guardians of their country's rights. 
 
 " By honour rul'd, with honesty your guide, 55 
 
 " Be that your bulwark, and be this your pride ; 
 " Increase the fed'ral ties; support the laws ; 
 *' Guard public faith ; revere religion's cause. 
 " Thus rise to greatness by experience find, 
 " Who live the best, are greatest of mankind. 60 
 
 And ye, my faithful friends, (for thus I name 
 " My fellow lab'rers in the field of fame) 
 " Ye, who for freedom nobly shed your blood, 
 " Dy'd ev'ry plain, and purpled ev'ry flood, 
 " Where havock heap'd of arms, and men the wreck, 65 
 " From Georgia's stream to walls of proud Quebec ; 
 " To these stern toils the peaceful scene succeeds, 
 *' The eyes of nations watch your future deeds : 
 " Go act, as citizens, in life's retreat, 
 *' Your parts as well, and make your fame complete : 7Q
 
 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 39 
 
 " 'Tis our's for ever, from this hour to part, 
 " Accept th' effusions of a grateful heart ! 
 " Where'er you go, may milder fates pursue, 
 " Receive my warmest thanks, my last adieu I" 
 
 The HERO spoke an awful pause ensu'd : 75 
 
 Each eye was red, each face with tears bedew'd ; 
 As if the pulse of life suspended stood, 
 An unknown horror chill'd the curdling blood: 
 Their arms were lock'd ; their cheeks irriguous met, 
 By thy soft trickling dews, affection ! wet. 80 
 
 Words past all utt'rance mock'd the idle tongue, 
 While petrified in final gaze they clung. 
 
 The bands retiring, sought their ancient farms, 
 With laurels crown'd receiv'd with open arms. 
 Now citizens, they form'd no sep'rate class, 85 
 
 But spread, commixing, through the gen'ral mass : 
 Congenial metals, thus, by chymic flame, 
 Dissolve, assimilate, and grow the same. 
 
 Swords turn'd to shares, and war to rural toil, 
 The men who sav'cl, now cultivate the soil. 90 
 
 In no heroic age, since time began, 
 Appear 'd so great the majesty of man. 
 
 His task complete, before the sires august 
 The hero stood, and render'd up his trust. 
 But who shall dare describe that act supreme, 95 
 
 And fire his numbers with the glowing theme ? 
 Who sing, though aided with immortal pow'rs, 
 The towns in raptures, and the roads in flow'rs, 
 Where'er he pass'd ? What monarch ever knew 
 Such acclamations, bursts of joy so true ? 100 
 
 What scenes I saw ! how oft, surpris'd I felt, 
 Through streaming eyes, my heart, dilated, melt! 
 Scenes that no words, no colours can display, 
 No sculptur'd marble, and no living lay : 
 Yet shall these scenes impress my mem'ry still, 105 
 
 Nor less the festal hours of Vernon's hill ; 
 Nor that sad moment when 'twas mine to part, 
 As the last heart string severs from the heart.
 
 30 CW THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 
 
 " Adieu," I cried, " to Vernon's shades, adieu ! 
 " The vessel waits I see the beck'ning crew 110 
 
 " Me now to foreign climes new duties guide, 
 O'er the vast desert of th' Atlantic tide. 
 " 'Tis thine, blest sage, while distant thunders roll, 
 *' Unmov'd thy calm serenity of soul, 
 
 " 'Tis tliine, whose triumphs bade the combat cease, 115 
 
 " To prove how glorious are the works of peace ; 
 " To lure rich commerce* up thy native bay ; 
 *' Make freighted barks beyond the mountains stray ; 
 " Make inland seas through op'ning channels glide ; 
 " Monongahela wed Potowmac's tide : 120 
 
 New states, exulting, see the flitting sails 
 " Waft joy and plenty round the peopled vales." 
 
 All former empires rose, the work of guilt, 
 On conquest, blood, or usurpation built : 
 But we, taught wisdom by their woes and crimes, 12$ 
 
 Fraught with their lore, and born to better times ; 
 Our constitutions form'd on freedom's base, 
 Which all the blessings of all lands embrace ; 
 Embrace humanity's extended cause, 
 A world our empire, for a world our laws. 130 
 
 Thrice happy race ! how blest were freedom's heirs, 
 Blest if they knew what happiness is theirs, 
 Blest if they knew to them alone 'tis given, 
 To know no sov'reign but the law and heav'n ! 
 That law for tlrem, and Albion's realms alone, 135 
 
 On sacred justice elevates her throne, 
 Regards the poor, the fatherless protects, 
 The widow shields, the proud oppressor checks ! 
 Blest if they knew, beneath umbrageous trees, 
 To prize the joys of innocence and ease, 140 
 
 Of peace, of health, of temp 'ranee, toil, and rest, 
 And the calm sunshine of the conscious breast. 
 For them, the spring his annual task resumes, 
 Invests in verdure, and adorns in blooms 
 Earth's parent lap, and all her wanton bow'rs, 145 
 
 In foliage fair, with aromatic flow'rs. 
 
 * General Washington is actually occupied in opening the falls of Potowraack and 
 James' Rivers, the noble object of which is to extend the navigation through the interior 
 parts of America. Posterity v.ill judge whether this is not one of the great worKs of peace, 
 worthy the consistency and dignity of his character.
 
 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 31 
 
 Their fanning wings the zephyrs gently play, 
 
 And winnow blossoms from each floating spray: 
 
 In bursting buds the embryo fruits appear, 
 
 The hope and glory of the rip'ning year ! 150 
 
 The mead that courts the scythe, the pastur'd vale, 
 
 And garden'd lawn, their breathing sweets exhale ; 
 
 On balmy winds a cloud of fragrance moves, 
 
 And floats the odours of a thousand groves. 
 
 For them, young summer sheds a brighter day, 155 
 
 Matures the germe with his prolific ray ; 
 
 With prospects cheers, demands more stubborn toil, 
 
 And pays their efforts from the grateful soil. 
 
 The lofty maize its ears luxuriant yields; 
 
 The yellow harvests gild the laughing fields, 160 
 
 Extend o'er all th' interminable plain, 
 
 And wave in grandeur like the boundless main. 
 
 For them, the flock o'er green savannas feeds : 
 
 For them, high prancing, bound the playful steeds: 
 
 For them, the heifers graze sequester'd dales, 165 
 
 Or pour white nectar in the brimming pails : 
 
 To them, what time the hoary frosts draw near, 
 
 Ripe autumn brings the labours of the year. 
 
 To nature's sons, how fair th' autumnal ev'n, 
 
 The fading landscape, and impurpl'd heav'n, 17Q 
 
 As from their fields they take their homeward way, 
 
 And turn to catch the sun's departing ray ! 
 
 What streaming splendours up the skies are roll'd, 
 
 Whose colours beggar Tyrian dyes and gold 1 
 
 Till night's dun curtains, wide o'er all display'd, 175 
 
 Shroud shad'wy shapes in. melancholy shade. 
 
 Then doubling clouds the wintry skies deform ; 
 And, wrapt in vapour, comes the roaring storm, 
 With snows surcharg'd, from tops of mountains sails, 
 Loads leafless trees, and fills the whiten'd vales. 180 
 
 Then desolation strips the faded plains ; 
 Then tyrant death o'er vegetation reigns : 
 The birds of heav'n to other climes repair, 
 And deep'ning glooms invade the turbid air. 
 Nor then, unjoyous, winter's rigours come, 13J 
 
 But find them happy and content with home ; 
 Their gran'ries fill'd -the task of culture past u 
 Warm at their fire, they hear the howling blast,
 
 32 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 
 
 With patt'ring rain and snow, or driving sleet, 
 
 Rave idly loud, and at their window beat : 190 
 
 Safe from its rage, regardless of its roar, 
 
 In vain the tempest rattles at the door 
 
 The tame brute shelter 'd, and the feather'd brood 
 
 From them, more provident, demand their food. 
 
 'Tis then the time from hoarding cribs to feed 195 
 
 The ox laborious, and the noble steed : 
 
 'Tis then the time to tend the bleating fold, 
 
 To strow with litter, and to fence from cold. 
 
 The cattle fed the fuel pil'd within 
 
 At setting day the blissful hours begin: 200 
 
 'Tis then, sole owner of his little cot, 
 The farmer feels his independent lot ; 
 Hears with the crackling blaze that lights the wall, 
 The voice of gladness and of nature call, 
 Beholds his children play, their mother smile, 205 
 
 And tastes with them the fruit of summer's toil. 
 
 From stormy heav'n 's the mantling clouds unroll'd, 
 The sky is bright, the air serenely cold. 
 The keen north-west, that heaps the drifted snows, 
 For months entire o'er frozen regions blows : 210 
 
 Man braves his blast, his gelid breath inhales, 
 And feels more vig'rous as the frost prevails. 
 Th' obstructed path, beneath the frequent tread, 
 Yields a smooth crystal to the flying steed. 
 'Tis then full oft, in arts of love array'd, 215 
 
 The am'rous stripling courts his future bride ; 
 And oft, beneath the broad moon's paler day, 
 The village pairs ascend the rapid sleigh ; 
 With jocund sounds impel th' enliven 'd steed 
 Say ye, who know their joys, the lulling speed, 220 
 
 At ev'ry bridge the tributary kiss ; 
 Can courtly balls exceed their rustic bliss ? 
 
 But different ages diff 'rent joys inspire, 
 Where friendly circles crowd the social fire : 
 For there the neighbours, gath'ring round the hearth, 223 
 Indulge in tales, news, politics, and mirth ; 
 Nor need we fear th' exhausted fund should fail, 
 While garrulous old age prolongs the tale,
 
 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERIC A. 33 
 
 There some old warrior, grown a village sage, 
 Whose locks are whiten 'd with the frosts of age, 230 
 
 While life's low burning lamp renews its light, 
 With tales heroic shall beguile the night ; 
 Shall tell of battles fought, of feats achiev'd, 
 And sufferings ne'er by human heart conceiv'd ; 
 Shall tell th' adventures of his early life, 235 
 
 And bring to view the fields of mortal strife ; 
 What time the matin trump to battle sings, 
 And on his steed the horseman swiftly springs, 
 While down the line the drum, with thund'ring sound, 
 Wakes the bold soldier, slumb'ring on the ground ; 240 
 
 Alarm'd he starts; then sudden joins his band, 
 Who, rang'd beneath the well-known banner, stand: 
 Then ensigns wave, and signal flags unfurPd, 
 Bid one great soul pervade a moving world ; 
 Then martial music's all-inspiring breath, 245 
 
 With dulcet symphonies, leads on to death ; 
 Lights in each breast the living beam of fame, 
 Kindles the spai'k, and fans the kindled flame : 
 Then meets the stedfast eye, the splendid charms 
 Of prancing steeds, of plumed troops and arms : 250 
 
 Reflected sun-beams, dazzling, gild afar 
 The pride, the pomp, and circumstance of war; 
 Then thick as hail-stones, from an angry sky, 
 In vollied show'rs, the bolts of vengeance fly ; 
 Unnumber'cl deaths, promiscuous, ride the air, 255 
 
 While, swift descending, with a frightful glare, 
 The big bomb bursts ; the fragments scatter'd round, 
 Beat down whole bands, and pulverize the ground* 
 Then joins the closer fight on Hudson's banks; 
 Troops strive with troops ; ranks, bending, press on ranks ; 260 
 O'er slipp'ry plains the struggling legions reel ; 
 Then livid lead and Bayonne's glittering steel, 
 With dark-red wounds their mangled bosoms bore ; 
 While furious coursers, snorting foam and gore, 
 Bear wild their riders o'er the carnag'd plain, 265 
 
 And, falling, roll them headlong on the slain. 
 To ranks consum'd, another rank succeeds ; 
 Fresh victims fall ; afresh the battle bleeds ; 
 And nought of blood can staunch the open'd sluice, 
 Till night, o'ershad'wing, brings a grateful truce. 2FO 
 
 Thus will the vet'ran tell the tale of wars, 
 Disclose his breast, to count his glorious scars j 
 F
 
 S4 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 
 
 In mute amazement hold the list'ning swains ; 
 
 Make freezing horror creep through all their veins ; 
 
 Or oft, at freedom's name, their souls inspire 275 
 
 With patriot ardour and heroic fire. 
 
 I too, perhaps, should heav'n prolong my date, 
 The oft-repeated tale shall oft relate ; 
 Shall tell the feelings in the first alarms, 
 Of some bold enterprize th' unequall'd charms j 280 
 
 Shall tell from whom I learnt the martial art, 
 With what high chiefs I play'd my early part ; 
 With Parsons first, whose eye, with piercing ken, 
 Reads through their hearts the characters of men ; 
 Then how I aided, in the foll'wing scene, 285 
 
 Death-daring Putnam then immortal Greene 
 Then how great Washington my youth approv'd, 
 In rank preferr'd, and as a parent lov'd, 
 (For each fine feeling in his bosom blends 
 The first of heroes, sages, patriots, friends) 390 
 
 With him what hours on warlike plans I spent, 
 Beneath the shadow of th' imperial tent ; 
 With him how oft I went the nightly round, 
 Through moving hosts, or slept on tented ground ; 
 From him how oft (nor far below the first 295 
 
 In high behests and confidential trust) 
 From him how oft I bore the dread commands, 
 Which destin'd for the fight the eager bands : 
 With him how oft I pass'd th' eventful day, 
 Rode by his side, as down the long array 200 
 
 His awful voice the columns taught to form, 
 To point the thunders, and to pour the storm. 
 But, thanks to heav'n ! those days of blood are o'er, 
 The trumpet's clangour, the loud cannon's roar : 
 No more advance the long extended lines, 305 
 
 Front form'd to front no more the battle joins 
 With rushing shock th' unsufFerable sound 
 Rends not the skies-^-nor blood distains the ground 
 Nor spread through peaceful villages afar, 
 The crimson flames of desolating war. 319 
 
 No more this hand, since happier days succeed, 
 Waves the bright blade, or reins the fiery steed. 
 No more for martial fame this bosom burns, 
 Now white-rob 'd peace to bless a world returns ;
 
 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 35 
 
 Now fost'ring freedom all her bliss bestows, 315 
 
 Unnumber'd blessings for unnumber'd woes. 
 
 Revolving seasons thus by turns invite 
 To rural joys and conjugal delight 
 Oh, thou sweet passion, whose blest charm connects 
 In heav'n's own ties, the strong and feebler sex! 320 
 
 Shed thy soft empire o'er the willing mind, 
 Exhalt, adorn, and purify mankind ! 
 All nature feels thy pow'r. The vocal grove 
 With air-borne melody awakes to love ; 
 
 To love the boldest tenants of the sky, 325 
 
 To love the little birds, extatic fly ; 
 To love submit the monsters of the main, 
 And ev'ry beast that haunts the desert plain : , 
 
 But man alone the brightest flame inspires, 
 A spark enkindled from celestial fires. 330 
 
 Hail, hallow'd wedlock ! purest, happiest state, 
 Thy untry'd raptures let my song relate : 
 Give me, ere long, thy mysteries to prove, 
 And taste, as well as sing, the sweets of love ! 
 
 Ye blooming daughters of the western world, 335 
 
 Whose graceful locks by artless hands are curl'd, 
 Whose limbs of symmetry, and snowy breast, 
 Allure to love, in simple neatness drest ; 
 Beneath the veil of modesty, who hide 
 
 The boast of nature, and of virgin pr jde . 340 
 
 (For beauty needs no meretricious art 
 To find a passage to the op'ning heart) 
 Oh, make your charms ev'n in my song admir'd, 
 My song immortal by your charms inspir'd. 
 
 Though lavish nature sheds each various grace, 345 
 
 That forms the figure, or that decks the face 
 Though health, with innocence, and glee the while, 
 Dance in their eye, and wanton in their smile 
 Though mid the lily's white, unfolds the rose, 
 As on their cheek the bud of beauty blows, 350 
 
 Spontaneous blossom of the transient flush, 
 Which glows and reddens to a scarlet blush ; 
 What time the maid, unread in flames and darts, 
 First feels of love the palpitating starts,
 
 S6 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 
 
 Feels from the heart life's quicken 'd currents glide, S55 
 
 Her bosom heaving with the bounding tide 
 
 Though sweet their lips, their features more than fair 
 
 Though curls luxuriant of untortur'd hair 
 
 Grow long, and add unutterable charms, 
 
 While ev'ry look enraptures and alarms ; 360 
 
 Yet something still, beyond th' exterior form, 
 
 With goodness fraught, with animation warm, 
 
 Inspires their actions, dignifies their mien, 
 
 Gilds ev'ry hour, and beautifies each scene. 
 
 'Tis those perfections of superior kind, 365 
 
 The moral beauties which adorn the mind ; 
 
 'Tis those enchanting sounds mellifluous hung, 
 
 In words of truth and kindness, on their tongue, 
 
 'Tis delicacy gives their charms new worth, 
 
 And calls the loveliness of beauty forth : 370 
 
 'Tis the mild influence beaming from their eyes, 
 
 Like vernal sun-beams round cosrulian skies ; 
 
 Bright emanations of the spotless soul, 
 
 Which warm, and cheer, and vivify the whole ! 
 
 Here the fair sex an equal honour claims, 375 
 
 Wakes chaste desire, nor burns with lawless flames : 
 No eastern manners here consign the charms 
 Of beauteous slaves to some loath'd master's arms : 
 No lovely maid in wedlock e'er was sold 
 By parents base, for mercenary gold ; 380 
 
 Nor forc'd the hard alternative to try, 
 To live dishonour'd, or with hunger die. 
 Here, uncontroul'd, and foll'wing nature's voice, 
 The happy lovers make th' unchanging choice ; 
 While mutual passions in their bosoms glow, 385 
 
 While soft confessions in their kisses flow, 
 While their free hands in plighted faith are giv'n, 
 Their vows, accordant, reach approving heav'n. 
 
 Nor here the wedded fair in splendour vie 
 To shine the idols of the public eye ; 390 
 
 Nor place their happiness, like Europe's dames, 
 In balls and masquerades, in plays and games ; 
 Each home-felt bliss exchang'd for foreign sports, 
 A round of pleasures, or th' intrigues of coui'ts ; 
 Nor seek of government to guide the plan, 395 
 
 And wrest his bold prerogatives from man.
 
 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 37 
 
 What though not form'd in affectation's school, 
 
 Nor taught the wanton eye to roll by rule, 
 
 Nor how to prompt the glance, the frown, the smile, 
 
 Or practice all the little arts of guile 400 
 
 What though not taught the use of female arms, 
 
 Nor cloth'd in panoply of conqu'ring charms, 
 
 Like some fine garnish 'd heads th' exterior fair, 
 
 In paints, cosmetics, powder, borrow'd hair : 
 
 Yet theirs are pleasures of a d iff 'rent kind, 405 
 
 Delights at home, more useful, more refin'd ; 
 
 Theirs are th' attentions, theirs the smiles that please, 
 
 With hospitable cares and modest ease : 
 
 Their youthful taste, improv'd by finer arts, 
 
 Their minds embellish'd, and refin'd their hearts 410 
 
 'Tis theirs to act, in still sequester'd life, 
 
 The glorious parts of parent, friend, and wife : 
 
 What nameless grace, what unknown charm is theirs, 
 
 To soothe their partners, and divide their cares, 
 
 Calm raging pain, delay the parting breath, 415 
 
 And light a smile on the wan cheek of death ! 
 
 No feudal ties the rising genius mar, 
 Compel to servile toils or drag to war ; 
 But free each youth, his fav'rite course pursues, 
 The plough paternal, or the sylvan muse ; 420 
 
 For here exists, once more, th' Arcadian scene, 
 Those simple manners, and that golden mean : 
 Here holds society its middle stage, 
 Between too rude and too refin'd an age : 
 Far from that age, when not a gleam of light 425 
 
 The dismal darkness cheer'd of Gothic night, 
 From brutal rudeness of that savage state 
 As from refinements which o'erwhelm the great, 
 Those dissipations which their bliss annoy, 
 And blast and poison each domestic joy. 430 
 
 What though for us, the pageantry of kings, 
 Crowns, thrones, and sceptres, are superfluous things ; 
 What though we lack the gaudy pomp that waits 
 On eastern monarchs, or despotic states ; 
 Yet well we spare what realms despotic feel, 43$ 
 
 Oppression's scourge, and persecution's wheel.
 
 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 
 
 What though no splendid spoils of other times 
 Invite the curious to these western climes ; 
 No virtuoso, with fantastic aim, 
 
 Here hunts the shadow of departed fame : 440 
 
 No piles ef rubbish his attention call, 
 Nor mystic obelisk, or storied wall : 
 No ruin'd statues claim the long research : 
 No sliding columns and no crumbling arch ; 
 Inscriptions, half effac'd, and falsely read, 445 
 
 Or cumbrous relics of th' unletter'd dead : 
 Yet here I rove untrodden scenes among, 
 Catch inspiration for my rising song ; 
 See nature's grandeur awfully unfold, 
 
 And, wrapt in thought, her works sublime behold ! 450 
 
 For here vast wilds, which human foot ne'er trod, 
 Are mark'd with footsteps of a present God: 
 His forming hand, on nature's broadest scale, 
 O'er mountains, mountains pil'd, and scoop'd the vale ; 
 Made sea-like streams in deeper channels run, 455 
 
 And roll'd through brighter heav'ns his genial sun. 
 In vain of day, that rolling lucid eye 
 Look'd down in mildness from the smiling sky ; 
 In vain, the germe of vegetation lay, 
 
 And pin'd in shades, secluded from the day ; 460 
 
 In vain, this theatre for man so fair, 
 Spread all its charms for beasts or birds of air ; 
 Or savage tribes, who, wand'ring through the wood, 
 From beasts and birds obtain'd precarious food : 
 Till great Columbus rose, and, led by heav'n, 465 
 
 CalPd worlds to view, beneath the skirts of ev'n. 
 
 Now other scenes in these blest climes prevail : 
 The sounds of population fill the gale : 
 The dreary wastes, by mighty toils reclaim 'd, 
 Deep marshes drain'd, wild woods and thickets tam'd: 470 
 Now fair Columbia, child of heav'n, is seen 
 In flow'r of youth, and robes of lovely green, 
 Than virgin fairer, on her bridal morn, 
 Whom all the graces, all the loves adorn, 
 
 Here planters find a ceaseless source of charms 475 
 
 In clearing fields, and adding farms to farms : 
 'Tis independence prompts their daily toil, 
 And calls forth beauties from the desert soil :
 
 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 39 
 
 What untry'd pleasure fills each raptur'd sense, 
 
 When sturdy toil, through darken 'd wilds immense, 480 
 
 First pours the day-beams on the op'ning glade, 
 
 And glebes embrown'd with everlasting shade ! 
 
 Here equal fortunes, ease, the ground their own, 
 
 Augment their numbers with increase unknown. 
 
 Here hamlets grow. Here Europe's pilgrims come, 485 
 
 From vassall'd woes to find a quiet home. 
 
 The eye no view of waning cities meets, 
 
 Of mould'ring domes, of narrow, fetid streets ; 
 
 Of grey-hair'd wretches, who ne'er own'd a shed, 
 
 And beggars dying for the want of bread : 490 
 
 But oft, in transport, round th' horizon roves, 
 
 O'er mountains, vallies, towns, and stately groves ; 
 
 Then dwells, best pleas'd, on cultivated plains, 
 
 Steeds, flocks, and herds, commix'd with lab'ring swains. 
 
 Hail, agriculture ! by whose parent aid 495 
 
 The deep foundations of our states are laid; 
 The seeds of greatness by thy hand are sown ; 
 These shall mature with thee and time alone ; 
 But still conduct us on thy sober plan, 
 Great source of wealth, and earliest friend of man. 500 
 
 Ye rev'rend fathers ! props of freedom's cause, 
 Who rear'd an empire by your sapient laws, 
 With blest example give this lesson weight, 
 " That toil and virtue make a nation great!" 
 Then shall your names reach earth's remotest clime, 505 
 Rise high as heav'n, and brave the rage of time 
 His list'ning sons the sire shall oft remind, 
 What parent sages first in Congress join 'd : 
 The faithful Hancock grac'd that early scene, 
 Great Washington appear'd in godlike mien, 5JO 
 
 Jay, Laurens, Clinton, skill'd in ruling men, 
 And he who, earlier, held the farmer's pen. 
 'Twas Lee, illustrious, at the father's head, 
 The daring way to independence led. 
 
 The self-taught Sherman urg'd his reasons clear, 515 
 
 And all the Livingstons to freedom dear : 
 What countless names in fair procession throng, 
 With Rutledge, Johnson, Nash, demand the song ! 
 And chiefly ye, of human kind the friends, 
 Os whose high task iny humbler toil attends : 520
 
 40 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA, 
 
 Ye who, uniting realms in leagues of peace, 
 
 The sum of human happiness increase ! 
 
 Adams, the sage, a patriot from his youth, 
 
 Whose deeds are honour, and whose voice is truth ; 
 
 Undying Franklin, on the hill of fame, 525 
 
 Who bids the thunders spread his awful name ; 
 
 And Jeflerson, whose mind with space extends, 
 
 Each science woos, all knowledge comprehends, 
 
 Whose patriot deeds and elevated views 
 
 Demand the tribute of a loftier muse : 530 
 
 Though Randolph, Hosmer, Hanson sleep in death, 
 
 Still these great patriots draw the vital breath : 
 
 And can a nation fail in peace to thrive, 
 
 Where such strong talents, such high worth Survive ? 
 
 Rous'd at the thought, by vast ideas fir'd, 535 
 
 His breast enraptur'd, and his tongue inspir'd, 
 
 Another bard,* in conscious genius bold, 
 
 Sings the new world now happier than the old. 
 
 Thou Spirit of the West, assert our fame, 
 In other bards awake the dormant flame I 540 
 
 Bid vivid colours into being start, 
 Men grow immortal by the plastic art ! 
 Bid columns swell, stupendous arches bend, 
 Proud cities rise, and spires sublime ascend ! 
 Bid music's pow'r the pangs of woe assuage ! 545 
 
 With nobler views inspire th' enlighten'd age J 
 In freedom's voice pour all thy bolder charms, 
 Till reason supersede the force of arms, 
 Till peaceful streamers in each gale shall play, 
 From orient morning to descending day. j>50> 
 
 In mortal breasts shall hate immortal last ! 
 Albion ! Columbia ! soon forget the past ! 
 In friendly intercourse your int'rests blend J 
 From common sires your gallant sons descend ; 
 From free-born sires in toils of empire brave 555 
 
 'Tis yours to heal the mutual wounds ye gave ; 
 Let those be friends whom kindred blood allies, 
 With language, laws', religion's holiest ties ! 
 Yes, mighty Albion ! scorning low intrigues, 
 With young Columbia form commercial leagues : 560 
 
 * Mr. Barlow, author ef the Vijion of Columbus.
 
 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 41 
 
 So shall mankind, through endless years, admire 
 More potent realms than Carthage leagu'd with Tyre. 
 
 Where lives the nation, fraught with such resource, 
 Such vast materials for a naval force ? 
 Where grow so rife, the iron, masts, and spars, 565 
 
 The hemp, the timber, and the daring tars ? 
 Where gallant youths, inur'd to heat and cold, 
 Through every zone, more hardy, strong, and bold ? 
 Let other climes of other produce boast ; 
 Let gold, let diamonds, grow on India's coast : 570 
 
 Let flaming suns from arid plains exhale 
 The spicy odours of Arabia's gale : 
 Let fragant shrubs, that bloom in regions calm, 
 Perfumes expiring, bleed ambrosial balm : 
 Let olives flourish in Hesperia's soil, 575 
 
 Ananas ripen in each tropic isle : 
 Let Gallia gladden in her clust'ring vines ; 
 Let Spain exuit in her Peruvian mines : 
 Let plains of Barb'ry boast the generous steed, 
 Far-fam'd for beauty, strength, and matchless speed : 580 
 But men, Columbia, be thy fairer growth, 
 Men of firm nerves, who spurn at fear and sloth ; 
 Men of high courage, like their sires of old, 
 In labour patient, as in dangers bold ! 
 
 Then wake, Columbia ! daughter of the skies, 585 
 
 Awake to glory, and to greatness rise ! 
 Arise and spread thy virgin charms abroad, 
 Thou last, thou fairest offspring of a God ; 
 Extend thy view where future blessings lie, 
 And ope new prospects for th' enraptur'd eye ! 590 
 
 See a new sera on this globe begun, 
 And circling years in brighter orbits run ; 
 See the fair dawn of universal peace, 
 When hell-born discord through the world shall cease ! 
 Commence the task assign'd by heaven's decree, 595 
 
 From pirate rage to vindicate the sea ! 
 
 Bid thy live, oaks, in southern climes that grow, 
 And pines, that shade the northern mountain's brow, 
 In mighty pomp descending on the main, 
 With sails expanded, sweep the watery plain : 600 
 
 G
 
 42 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 
 
 Thy rising stars in unknown skies display, 
 And bound thy labours with the walks of day. 
 
 Bid from the shore a philanthropic band, 
 The torch of science glowing in their hand, 
 O'er trackless waves extend their daring toils, 605 
 
 To find and bless a thousand peopled isles ; 
 Not lur'd to blood by domination's lust, 
 The pride of conquest, or of gold the thirst ; 
 Not arm'd by impious zeal with burning brands, 
 To scatter flames and ruin round their strands ; 610 
 
 Bid them to wilder'd men new lights impart, 
 Heav'n's noblest gifts, with every useful art. 
 
 Bid thy young sons, whom toil for glory forms, 
 New skill acquiring, learn to brave the storms, 
 To ev'ry region thy glad harvest bear 615 
 
 Where happy nations breathe a milder air ; 
 Or where the natives feel the scorching ray, 
 And pant and faint beneath a flood of day ; 
 Or through those seas where mounts of ice arise, 
 Th' eternal growth of hyperborean skies, 620 
 
 Where feeble rayless suns obliquely roll, 
 Or one. long night invests the frozen pole. 
 
 Then bid thy northern train, who draw the line, 
 In ocean's caverns find a richer mine 
 
 Than fam'd Potosi's or Golconda's ore, 625 
 
 Or all the treasures of the Asian shore. 
 Bid them with hooks delusive ply the flood, 
 And feed whole kingdoms with the finny brood. 
 
 - And bid thy youths $ whose brawny limbs are strung 
 
 For bolder toils, pursue those toils unsung 630 
 
 Pursue through foreign seas, with vent'rous sail, 
 
 The dreadful combat of th' enormous whale : 
 
 Lo, where he comes, the foaming billows rise 1 
 
 See spouted torrents cloud the misty skies ; 
 
 See in the skiff the bold harpooner stand, 635 
 
 The murd'ring iron in his skilful hand : 
 
 From him alone th' attentive youths await 
 
 A joyful vict'ry, or a mournful fate : 
 
 His meas'ring eye the distance now explores, 
 
 His voice now checks, and now impels the oars : 640
 
 ON THE HAPPINESS OF AMERICA. 43 
 
 The panting crew a solemn silence keep, 
 
 Stillness and horror hover o'er the deep : 
 
 Now nigh he kens a vulnerable part. 
 
 And hurls with deadly aim the barbed dart ; 
 
 The wounded monster, plunging through th' abyss, 645 
 
 Makes uncoil'd cords in boiling waters hiss ; 
 
 And oft the boat, drawn headlong down the wave, 
 
 Leads trembling seamen to their wat'ry grave ; 
 
 And oft, when rising, on his back upborne, 
 
 Is dash'd on high, in countless pieces torn. 650 
 
 But now afar see ocean's monarch rise, 
 
 O'er troubled billows see how fast he flies, 
 
 And drags the feeble skiff along the flood, 
 
 Lash'd into foam, and colour'd red with blood I 
 
 At length subsides the elemental strife, 655 
 
 His rage exhausted with his ebbing life ; 
 
 As tow'rs a rock on some sky-circled plain, 
 
 So looms his carcase o'er the dusky main. 
 
 Elate, the victors urge the added toil, 
 
 Extract the bone, and fill their ship with oil. 660 
 
 Fraught with the germe of wealth, our seamen roam 
 To foreign marts, and bring new treasures home ; 
 From either Ind' and Europe's happier shore, 
 Th' assembled produce crowds the merchant's store : 
 From east to west the fruits and spices sweet, 665 
 
 On our full boards in rich profusion meet ; 
 Canary isles their luscious vintage join ; 
 In crystal goblets flows the amber wine ; 
 European artists send their midnight toil 
 For crude materials of our virgin soil ; 670 
 
 For us, in tissue of the silken loom, 
 The lilacs blush, the damask roses bloom ; 
 For us in distant mines the metals grow, 
 Prolific source of pleasure, care, and woe ! 
 Ne'er may our sons for heaps of useless wealth, 675 
 
 Exchange the joys of freedom, peace, or health, 
 But make e'en riches to their weal conduce, 
 And prize their splendour by their public use \
 
 A 
 
 POEM 
 
 ON THE 
 
 FUTURE GLORY 
 
 AMERICA.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 AMERICA, after having been concealed for so many ages from 
 the rest of the world, was probably discovered, in the maturity of 
 time, to become the theatre for displaying the illustrious designs of 
 Providence, in its dispensations to the human race. These States 
 arose from the condition of colonies to that of an independent na 
 tion, at an epocha, and under circumstances singularly favourable 
 for improvement. Previous to our revolution, though refinements 
 and luxuries had made but little progress, useful education had 
 been cultivated with care, valuable inventions had been multiplied, 
 and arts and sciences were in a flourishing state. In giving a scope 
 to the exertion of their faculties, the inhabitants of the United States 
 had, perhaps, fewer obstacles to impede their proficiency than the 
 people of any other country. There existed among them no pri 
 vileged orders, no predominant religion, no discouragement to in 
 dustry, and no exclusion from office. Wide was the field that was 
 opened before them for the range of the human mind. They pos 
 sessed the advantage of having in view the whole history of man 
 kind, to warn them against the dangers, and to save them from 
 the calamities to which other nations had been exposed. The ex 
 amples of the wise, the brave, and the good were not wanting to 
 awaken their emulation. They had an opportunity of profiting in 
 every thing, by th^ experience of all who had preceded them. 
 
 Since the conclusion of our revolutionary war, the extraordinary 
 prosperity* of the United States has surpassed the most sanguine 
 expectation. If the past is to furnish any criterion for forming a 
 judgment of the future, we are undoubtedly destined, as a nation, 
 to advance with large and rapid strides towards the summit of na 
 tional aggrandisement. Fully persuaded of the magnitude of the 
 blessings which await us there, the writer wishes to impress the 
 same conviction on the minds of his fellow citizens. Because, he 
 thinks, a confidence in the future felicity and glory of their coun 
 try will operate usefully in nourishing principles and producing 
 actions sublime and splendid as their destinies. He doubts not then 
 that he shall be pardoned by his countrymen for thus venturing to 
 explore for them \h& field of futurity ; and he hopes the critics 
 will not be offended by the excursion, when they recollect that it 
 has ever been reputed poetic ground ; for they cannot but remem 
 ber the poet and the prophet have been considered so intimately 
 blended together, that a common name (at least in one language) 
 
 * Sec the annexed Table.
 
 48 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 was expressive of both. To facts we can appeal for proof, that 
 our most flattering anticipations have been realised at an earlier 
 period than we had fixed. The subsequent table of comparative 
 advancement in numbers and resources, will, it may fairly be ex 
 pected, shelter us in future from such ridicule as one British re 
 view attempted heretofore to throw on American writers for their 
 propensity to poetical predictions. 
 
 When the author composed the description of the process of in 
 dustry in creating a navy, not one armed vessel belonged to the 
 government, or any individual in the United States. It will be seen 
 from the schedule to which reference has been made, what a num 
 ber of vessels of war (exclusive of armed merchantmen) the little 
 intervening time has produced. From thence the uncommon ca 
 pacity of a country possessed of such resources, with such exer 
 tion for building, aptitude for navigating, and enterprize for employ 
 ing its navigation, may be readily calculated. Nor less important 
 data have we for calculating the great changes indicative of acti 
 vity, energy, and perseverance, which must succeed upon the land. 
 
 There are now several independent States (which have been ad 
 mitted as members of the union) established in those very western 
 regions, which the author, in a poem written during the course of 
 our revolution, predicted would be speedily settled under the most 
 happy auspices, and where, at the time when C.\e prediction was 
 published, there existed not one single white inhabitant. The con 
 templation of such numerous and unparalleled instances of prospe 
 rity cannot fail to furnish our citizens with increasing motives 
 of praise and adoration to the Omnipotent, who has thus distin 
 guished them by his mercies. And such instances ought not less 
 to silence the scoffs of those foreigners who affected to believe that 
 nothing but degradation and misery would result from our inde 
 pendence. If they still entertain similar sentiments, let them ex 
 amine the documents which attest the rapid growth of our popu 
 lation and improvement. Or, if it be practicable, let them take a 
 nearer view of the sources of our augmenting wealth and strength. 
 Whoever shall live a few years longer, may doubtless behold, on 
 that continent, still greater progress in whatever can adorn or 
 console human nature. Who can hesitate to believe we are now 
 competent to the defence of our country in every conceivable 
 crisis ? Should the United States be attacked, the writer is firmly 
 persuaded that he would see himself associated with nearly one 
 million of his countrymen in arms, determined to maintain their 
 rights, or perish in the attempt.
 
 
 
 
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 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Address to my soul to explore the future fortunes of the United 
 States, which are destined to experience many trials and adversi 
 ties in our progress to national felicity and glory our commerce 
 interrupted by the Algerines sensation produced by it in the 
 Americans invocation for powers of expression to excite them, 
 to revenge a -view of the miseries of the prisoners, which ter 
 minates in an anathema on the perpetrators of such cruelties 
 friends of the captives and ruined merchants, how affected' 
 exhortation to arm unless an equitable peace can be obtained 
 apostrophe to the tributary powers resolution to be taken by 
 us our resources hinted, from a glance at the last war Great- 
 Britain and Algiers contrasted prayer to the Supreme Being 
 an army raised a navy formed naval combat with the 
 corsairs their defeat their woe utter destruction of their 
 country return and rejoicings of the victors when depreda 
 tions shall be committed by the piratical privateers of other 
 nations, the American Government is to assume an attitude of 
 defence in the mean time is exhibited a view of our danger 
 from anarchy establishment of a more efficient government 
 true liberty extended through the west improvement in forti 
 fications, highways, and inland navigation the new city of 
 Washington built for the permanent residence of the Federal 
 Government our country an asylum for the oppressed of all 
 nations Columbia congratulated on her natural and moral 
 blessings, which are the harbingers of freedom to other coun 
 tries wars which must first arise, together with the horrors 
 of the French Pentarchy this epocha succeeded by a prospect 
 of peace, and the amelioration of the human condition, until 
 the consummation of all things.
 
 A POEM 
 
 OX THE 
 
 FUTURE GLORY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 JLvISE now, my soul ! intelligence refin'd ! 
 
 Ethereal efflux of th' eternal mind ! 
 
 Rise, in immortal youth and vigour fresh, 
 
 Expand thy vision unobscur'd by flesh ; 
 
 On rapture's plume, with boundless flight, explore 5 
 
 Our prospect opening and our bliss in store ! 
 
 What though our state, in untried prime, appears 
 
 A freighted vessel on the flood of years ; 
 
 Though unknown perils, tempests, foes and shelves 
 
 Surround, and factions rise amidst ourselves ; 10 
 
 Though worlds combin'd, or adverse fates annoy, 
 
 What but disunion can our bliss destroy ? 
 
 Though many a dubious day and dismal scene, 
 
 Ere our probation cease, must intervene ; 
 
 Beyond these glooms what brighter days appear, 15 
 
 Where dawns on mortals heav'n's millennial year ! 
 
 In western wilds what scenes of grandeur rise, 
 
 As unborn ages crowd upon my eyes ! 
 
 A better ajra claims its destin'd birth, 
 
 And heav'n descending dwells with man on earth. 20 
 
 While our brave youth through various seas afar, 
 In toils of peace inure their nerves for war, 
 See what dark prospect interrupts our joy ! 
 What arm presumptuous dares our trade annoy"? 
 Great God ! the rovers who infest thy waves 2$ 
 
 Have seiz'd our ships, and made our freemen slaves : 
 And hark ! the cries of that disastrous band 
 float o'er the main> and reach Columbia's strand-*
 
 The wild alarm from ocean spreads around, 
 
 And circling echoes propagate the sound, SO 
 
 From smooth Saluda, fed with silver rills, 
 
 Up the Blue-Ridge, o'er Alleghanean hills, 
 
 To where Niagara tremendous roars, 
 
 As o'er white-sheeted rocks his torrent pours ; 
 
 (The dreadful cataract whole regions shakes 3^ 
 
 Of boundless woods, and congregated lakes !) 
 
 To fai'thest Kennebeck, adown whose tide 
 
 The future ships, unfashion'd, monstrous glide, 
 
 On whose rough banks, where stood the savage den, 
 
 The axe is heard, and busy hum of men 40 
 
 But hark ! their labours and their accents cease, 
 
 A warning voice has interdicted peace ; 
 
 Has spread through cities, gain'd remotest farms, 
 
 And fir'd th' indignant States with new alarms : 
 
 The sickly flame in ev'ry bosom burns, 45 
 
 Like gloomy torches in sepulchral urns4 
 
 Why sleep'st thou, Barlow, child of genius ? why 
 See'st thou, blest Dwight, our land in sadness lie ? 
 And where is Trumbull, earliest boast of fame ? 
 'Tis yours, ye bards, to wake the smother'd flame- 50 
 
 To you, my dearest friends ! the task belongs 
 To rouse your country with heroic songs ; 
 For me, though glowing with conceptions warm, 
 I find no equal words to give them form : 
 Pent in my breast, the madd'ning tempest raves, 5$ 
 
 Like prison'd fires in ^Etna's burning caves ; 
 For me why will no thund'ring numbers roll ? 
 Why, niggard language, dost thou balk my soul ? 
 Come thou sweet feeling of another's woe, 
 That mak'st the heart to melt, the eye to flow ! 60 
 
 Deep-stinging sensibility of wrong, 
 Aid indignation, and inspire my song ! 
 Teach me curst slav'ry's cruel woes to paint, 
 Beneath whose weight our captur'd freemen faint [ 
 Teach me in shades of Stygian night to trace, 65 
 
 In characters of hell, the pirate race ! 
 Teach me, prophetic, to disclose their doom 
 A new-born nation trampling on their tomb ! 
 
 What mortal terrors all my senses seize, 
 Possess my heart, and life's warm current freeze ? 79
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 55 
 
 Why grow my eyes with thick suffusions dim ? 
 
 What visionary forms before me swim ? 
 
 Where am I ? Heav'ns I what mean these dol'rous ciies ? 
 
 And what these horrid scenes that round me rise ? 
 
 Heard ye the groans, those messengers of pain ? 75 
 
 Heard ye the clanking of the captive's chain ? 
 
 Heard ye your free-born sons their fate deplore, 
 
 Pale in their chains and lab'ring at the oar ? 
 
 Saw ye the dungeon, in whose blackest cell, 
 
 That house of woe, your friends, your children dwell ? 80 
 
 Or saw ye those, who dread the tort'ring hour, 
 
 Crush'd by the rigours of a tyrant's pow'r ? 
 
 Saw ye the shrinking slave, th' uplifted lash, 
 
 The frowning butcher, and the redd'ning gash ? 
 
 Saw ye the fresh blood where it bubbling broke, 85 
 
 From purple scars, beneath the grinding stroke ? 
 
 Saw ye the naked limbs writh'd to and fro, 
 
 In wild contortions of convulsing woe ? 
 
 Felt ye the blood, with pangs alternate roll'd, 
 
 Thrill through your veins and freeze with death-like cold, 90 
 
 Or fire, as down the tear of pity stole, 
 
 Your manly breasts, and harrow up the soul ! 
 
 Some guardian pow'r in mercy intervene, 
 Hide from my dizzy eyes the cruel scene ! 
 Oh, stop the shrieks that tear my tortur'd ear ! 95 
 
 Ye visions, vanish ! dungeons, disappear ! 
 Ye fetters, burst ! ye monsters fierce, avaunt ! 
 Infernal furies on those monsters haunt ! 
 Pursue the foot-steps of that miscreant crew, 
 Pursue in flames, with hell-born rage pursue I 100 
 
 Shed such dire curses as all utt 'ranee mock, 
 Whose plagues astonish and whose horrors shock ! 
 Great maledictions of eternal wrath, 
 Which, like heav'n's vial'd vengeance, singe and scathe, 
 Transfix with scorpion stings the callous heart, 105 
 
 Make blood-shot eye-balls from their sockets start ! 
 For balm, pour brimstone in their wounded soul ; 
 Then ope, perdition ! and ingulf them Avhole ! 
 
 How long will heav'n restrain its bursting ire, 
 Nor rain blue tempests of devouring fire ? 110 
 
 How long shall widows weep their sons in vain, 
 The prop of years, in slav'ry's iron chain ?
 
 How long the love-sick maid, unheeded, rove 
 
 The sounding shore, and call her absent love ; 
 
 With wasting fears and sighs his lot bewail, 115 
 
 And seem to see him in each coming sail ? 
 
 How long the merchant turn his failing eyes, 
 
 In desperation, on the seas and skies, 
 
 And ask his captur'd ships, his ravish'd goods, 
 
 With frantic ravings, of the heav'ns and floods ? 120 
 
 How long, Columbians dear ! will ye complain 
 Of wrongs unpunish'd on the midland main? 
 In timid sloth shall injur'd brav'ry sleep ? 
 Awake ! awake ! avengers of the deep ! 
 Revenge ! revenge ! the voice of nature cries ; 125 
 
 Awake to glory, and to vengeance rise ! 
 To arms ! to arms ! ye bold, indignant bands ! 
 'Tis Heav'n inspires, 'tis God himself commands : 
 Save human nature from such deadly harms, 
 By force of reason, or by force of arms. 13d 
 
 Oh ye great pow'rs, who passports basely Crave 
 From Afric's lords, to sail the midland wave 
 Great fallen pow'rs, whose gems and golden bribes 
 Buy paltry passports from these savage tribes ! 
 Ye, whose fine pm*ples, silks, and stuffs of gold, 135 
 
 (An annual tribute) their dark limbs infold 
 Ye, whose mean policy for them equips, 
 To plague mankind, the predatory ships 
 Why will ye buy your infamy so dear ? 
 
 Is it self-int'rest, or a dastard fear ? 140 
 
 Is it because you meanly think to gain 
 A richer commerce on the th' infested main ? 
 Is it because you meanly wish to see 
 Your rivals chain 'd, yourselves ignobly free ? 
 Who gave commission to these monsters fierce 145 
 
 To hold in chains the humbled universe ? 
 Would God, would nature, would their conqu'ring swords, 
 Without your meanness, make them ocean's lords ? 
 What ! do ye fear ? nor dare their pow'r provoke ? 
 Would not that bubble burst beneath your stroke ? 150 
 
 And shall the weak remains of barb'rous rage, 
 Insulting, triumph o'er th' enlighten'd age ? 
 Do ye not feel confusion, horror, shame, 
 To bear a hateful, tributary name ?
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. SS 
 
 Will ye not aid to wipe the foul disgrace, 155 
 
 And break the fetters from the human race ? 
 
 Then, though unaided by these mighty pow'rs, 
 Ours be the toil ; the danger, glory curs : 
 Then, oh my friends ! by heav'n ordain'd to free 
 From tyrant rage, the long-infested sea 160 
 
 Then let us firm, though solitary, stand, 
 The sword and olive-branch in either hand : 
 An equal peace propose with reason's voice, 
 Or rush to arms, if arms should be their choice. 
 
 Stung by their crimes, can aught your vengeance stay ? 165 
 Can terror daunt you ? or can death dismay ? 
 The scul enrag'd, can threats, can tortures tame, 
 Or the dank dungeon quench th' ethereal flame ? 
 Have ye not once to heav'n 's dread throne appeal'd, 
 And has not heav'n your independence seal'd ? 1~0 
 
 What was the pow'r ye dar'd that time engage, 
 And brave the terrors of its hostile rage ? 
 Was it not Britain, great in warlike toils, 
 The first of nations, as the queen of isles ? 
 Britain, whose fleets, that rul'd the briny surge, 175 
 
 Made navies tremble to its utmost verge ; 
 Whose single arm held half the world at odds, 
 Great nurse of sages, bards and demi-gods! 
 But what are these, whose threat'nings round you burst ? 
 Of men the dregs, the feeblest, vilest, worst: 180 
 
 These are the pirates from the Barb'ry strand, 
 Audacious miscreants, fierce, yet feeble band 1 
 WTio, impious, dare (no provocation giv'i) 
 Insult the rights of man the laws of heav'n ! 
 
 Wilt thou not rise, oh God, to plead our cause, 185 
 
 Assert thine honour, and defend thy laws ! 
 Wilt thou not bend the highest heav'ns to hear 
 The pris'ner's cry, and stop the falling tear I 
 Wilt thou not strike the guilty race with dread, 
 On impious realms thy tenfold fury shed ! 190 
 
 Oh thou Most High, be innocence thy care, 
 Oh, make thy red right arm of vengeance bare ! 
 Resume, in wrath, the thunders thou hast hurl'd 
 To blight the tenants of the nether world !
 
 5(5 
 
 Thou God of hosts, our stedfast councils guide, 195 
 
 Lead forth our arms, and crush the sons of pride ! 
 
 And could that gallant race, of glorious name, 
 Whose infant deeds, immortaliz'd by fame, 
 Fix'd freedom's reign beyond the western waves, 
 Consent their sons and brothers shall be slaves ? 200 
 
 But not for this in Albion's angry hour 
 Ye dar'd the vengeance of unfeeling pow'r ; 
 In many a field repelPd the stronger foe, 
 And rose to greatness from the depth of woe : 
 But not for this the flame of freedom ran 205 
 
 From breast to breast, and man electriz'd man ; 
 Your senate walls, with patriot thunders rung, 
 And " death or independence" fir'd each tongue. 
 
 But hark, the trump through every region blown, 
 Sounds from cold Lawrence to the burning zone ; 210 
 
 Thy cause, humanity ! that swells its breath, 
 Wakes in each bosom cool contempt of death. 
 By rumbling drums from distant regions call'd, 
 Men, scorning pirate rage, start unappall'd : 
 With eye-balls flaming, cheeks of crimson flush, 215 
 
 From rice-green fields and fir-clad mountains rush 
 High-mettled youths unus'd to sights of slain> 
 Of hostile navies, or the stormy main, 
 Enrag'd, they leave unfinish'd furrows far, 
 To dare the deep, and toil in fields of war. 220 
 
 From dreams of peace the sleeping vet'rans wake, 
 Their rattling arms, with grasp indignant, shake ; 
 Those arms, their pride, their country's gift,* what day 
 To independence they had op'd the way ; 
 Frowning wide ruin, terrible they rise, 225 
 
 Like battling thunders bursting from the skies. 
 From Erie's inland vales, unnam'd in song, 
 In native fierceness pour the hunter throng : 
 Beneath their rapid march realms roll behind; 
 Their uncomb'd locks loose floating on the wind : 230 
 
 Coarse their worn garbs they place their only pride 
 In the dread rifle, oft in battle tried : 
 With aim unbalk'd, whose leaden vengeance sings, 
 Sure as the dart the king of terror flings. 
 
 * At the conclusion of the war, Congress gave to the toldiars of th continental mmy 
 ilie arm* with which they had defended tlieir country.
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 57 
 
 So erst, brave Morgan, thy bold hunters sped 235 
 
 Such light-arm'd youths the gallant Fayette led 
 
 Ere Steuben brought the Prussian lore from far, 
 
 Or Knox created all the stores of war. 
 
 Through tented fields impetuous ardour spreads 
 
 Rous'd by the trump the coursers rear their heads, 240 
 
 Snuff in the tainted gale the nitrous grain, 
 
 Responsive neigh, and prance the wide champaign. 
 
 Now glowing feelings kindle nobler rage, 
 And rouse in freedom's cause the fearless age, 
 With martial heat each colder bosom warm, 245 
 
 String the tough nerve and brace the brawny arm. 
 Now preparation forms the gleaming blade, 
 In moulds capacious pond'rous deaths are made. 
 In crowded docks th' incessant labour glows 
 The tool resounds the wond'rous structure grows 250 
 Let not th' uplifted arm its toil relax ! 
 Give me the music echoing to the axe ; 
 Chim'd with the caulker's stroke that stops each chink, 
 While beat in time the hammer'd anvils clink ; 
 As oft the boatswain's call with piping shrill, 255 
 
 And sailors' simple song the pauses fill. 
 Give me to see the pitchy blazes curl, 
 The ropes dark rise and canvass white unfurl. 
 Prop'd on the stocks stupendous war-ships stand, 
 Raise their huge bulks and darken all the strand ; 260 
 
 Till tow'ring fleets, from diff'rent harbours join'd, 
 Float on the pinions of the fav'ring wind ; 
 Tall groves of masts, like mountain forests, rise^ 
 Wav'd high in air the starry streamer flies : 
 To prosp'rous gales the canvass wide unfurl'd, 26 
 
 Bears the rous'd vengeance round the wat'ry world. 
 See ocean whitens with innum'rous sails 
 Be still, ye storms ! breathe soft, ye friendly gales 1 
 See where Columbia's mighty squadron runs 
 To climes ilium 'd by other stars and suns ; 270 
 
 Gains the deep strait ; ascends the midland wave, 
 Of ancient fleets th' unfathomable grave J 
 When freedom's ardent chiefs, with eager eye, 
 Dim through the mist the corsair force descry ; 
 Whose sails slow rising skirt the distant heav'n, 2^5 
 
 Like shad'wy vapours of ascending ev'n 
 I
 
 58 ON THE FUTURE GLORY OF THE 
 
 Here shine Columbia's constellated stars, 
 
 There growing moons, that guide Barbaric wars. 
 
 Th' obstructions clear'd obliquely on the gales 
 
 With open ports half furl'd the flapping sails-*- 280 
 
 Near and more near, athwart the bill'wy tide, 
 
 In terrors arm'd, the floating bulwarks glide ; 
 
 Tier pil'd o'er tier the sleeping thunder lies, 
 
 Anon to rend the shudd'ring main and skies. 
 
 Ere yet they shut the narrow space between, 285 
 
 Begins the prelude of a bloodier scene 
 With sudden touch deep-throated engines roar, 
 Pierce heav'n's blue vault and dash the waves to shore ; 
 Then madd'ning billows mock the fearful sound, 
 While o'er their surface globes of iron bound ; 290 
 
 Unknown concussions rolling o'er their heads, 
 Far fly the monsters round their coral beds. 
 
 The battle closes fiercer fights begin 
 And hollow hulls reverberate the din : 
 
 The green waves blacken as the tempest lours, 295 
 
 Chain-bolts and langrage rain in dreadful show'rs ; 
 Ship dash'd on ship upheaves the flashing flood, 
 The black sides wrapt in flame, the decks in blood : 
 From both the lines now smoke, now flames aspire, 
 Now clouds they roll, now gleam a ridge of fire : 300 
 
 On hostile pro\vs Columbia's heroes stand, 
 Conqu'ring 'mid death, or dying sword in hand ; 
 Promiscuous cries, with shouts confus'dly drown'd 
 In the wild uproar, swell the dol'rous sound : 
 And naught distinct is heard, and naught is seen 305 
 
 Where wreaths of vapour hov'ring intervene ; 
 Save when black grains expand imprison'd air, 
 The thunder wake and shoot a livid glare ; 
 Then ghastly forms are seen by transient gleams, 
 The dead and wounded drench'd in purple streams. 310 
 
 Now helmless ships in devious routes are driv'n, 
 The cordage torn, the masts to atoms riv'n : 
 Now where they glow with curling waves of fire, 
 In one explosion total crews expire. 
 
 Here barks relinquis'd, burnt to ocean's brink, 315 
 
 Half vcil'd in crimson clouds, begin to sink.
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. & 
 
 With men submerg'd, there frailer fragments float ; 
 
 Here yawning gulfs absord th' o'erloaded boat : 
 
 There red-hot balls, that graze the waters, hiss, 
 
 And plunge the gallies down the dread abyss. 320 
 
 Here shatter'd limbs, there garments dipt in blood, 
 
 With mingling crimson stain the foughten flood ; 
 
 While Afric's pirates, shrinking from the day, 
 
 By terror urg'd, drag wounded hulks away. 
 
 As when two adverse storms, impetuous driv'n 325 
 
 From east and west, sail up the azure heav'n, 
 In flaming fields of day together run, 
 Explode their fires and blot with night the sun 
 The eastern cloud, its flames expir'd at last, 
 Flies from the light'ning of the western blast : 330 
 
 So fled the corsair line the blighting stroke 
 Of freedom's thunder so their battle broke 
 As if by heav'n's own arm subdu'd at length, 
 Their courage chill'd, and wither'd all their strength, 
 
 Oh, then let vict'ry stimulate the chace, 335 
 
 To free from shameful chains the human race ; 
 To drive these pirates from th' insulted waves, 
 To ope their dungeons to despairing slaves ; 
 To snatch from impious hands, and break the rod 
 Which erst defac'd the likeness of a God : 340 
 
 Then seize th' occasion, call the furious gales, 
 Crack bending oars, stretch wide inflated sails ; 
 On rapid wings of wind the tempest bear, 
 Make death's deep tubes with lurid lightnings glare ; 
 Like evanescent mists dispel their hosts, 34$ 
 
 And with destruction's besom sweep their coasts ! 
 
 Woe to proud Algiers ; to your princes woe ! 
 Your pride is perish'd with your youths laid low 
 Woe to ye people ! woe, disti-ess, and fears ! 
 Your hour is come to drink the cup of tears : 350 
 
 A ghastly paleness gathers on your cheeks, 
 While mem'ry haunts your ears with captive shrieks ; 
 Then stifled conscience wak'ning dares to cry, 
 " Think on your crimson crimes, despair and die I" , 
 Then ruin comes, with fire, and sword, and blood, 35$ 
 
 And men shall ask, " where once your cities stood ?"
 
 'Tis done behold th' uncheery prospects rise, 
 Unwonted glooms the silent coasts surprize ; 
 The heav'ns with sable clouds are overcast, 
 And death-like sounds ride on the hollow blast : 360 
 
 The rank grass rustling to the passing gale ; 
 Ev'n now of men the cheerful voices fail: 
 No busy marts appear, no crowded ports, 
 No rural dances, and no splendid courts ; 
 In halls, so late with feasts and music crown'd, 365 
 
 No revels sport, nor mirthful cymbals sound. 
 Fastidious pomp ! how are thy pageants fled ! 
 How sleep the haughty in their lowly bed ! 
 Their cultur'd fields to desolation turn'd, 
 The buildings levell'd and th' enclosures burn'd. 370 
 
 Where the fair garden bloom'd, the thorn succeeds, 
 'Mid noxious brambles and envenom'd weeds. 
 O'er fallow plains no vagrant flocks are seen, 
 To print with tracks or crop the dewy green. 
 The Plague, where thousands felt his mortal stings, 375 
 
 In vacant air his shafts promiscuous flings ; 
 There walks in darkness, thirsting still for gore, 
 And raves, unsated, round the desei-t shore 
 The sandy waste, th' immeasurable heath, 
 Alone are prowl'd by animals of death. 380 
 
 Here tawny lions guard their gory den ; 
 There birds of prey usurp the haunts of men ; 
 Through dreary wilds a mournful echo calls, 
 From mould'ring tow'rs and desolated walls. 
 Where the wan light through broken windows gleams, 385 
 The fox looks out, the boding raven screams ; 
 While trembling travellers in wild amaze, 
 On wrecks of state and piles of ruin gaze. 
 
 The direful signs which mark the day of doom 
 Shall scarcely scatter such portentous gloom 390 
 
 When, rock'd the ground, convuls'd each roaring flood, 
 The stars shall fall, the sun be turn'd to blood, 
 The globe itself dissolve in fluid fire, 
 Time be no more, and man's whole race expire. 
 
 Thus hath thy hand, great God ! through ev'ry age, 395 
 When ripe for ruin, pour'd on man thy rage : 
 So didst thou erst on Babylon let fall 
 The plagues thy hand inscrib'd upon the wall :
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 61 
 
 So didst thou give Sidonia's sons for food, 
 
 To cow'ring eagles, drunk with human blood ; 400 
 
 Seal in thy wrath imperial Salem 's doom, 
 
 And sweep her millions to a common tomb. 
 
 But let us turn from objects that disgust, 
 The ghosts of empires and of men accurst : 
 Turn we from sights that pain the feeling breast, 405 
 
 To where new nations populate the west : 
 For there, anon, shall new auroras rise, 
 And, streaming, brighten up th' Atlantic skies ; 
 Back on the solar path, with living ray, 
 Heav'n's own pure splendours pour a tide of day. 410 
 
 And, lo ! successful from heroic toils, 
 With glory cover'd and enrich'd with spoils ; 
 With garlands waving o'er these spoils of war, 
 The pomp preceded by th' imperial star ; 
 'Mid shouts of joy from liberated slaves, 415 
 
 In triumph ride th' avengers of the waves. 
 And see, they gain Columbia's happy strand, 
 Where anxious crowds in expectation stand. 
 See raptur'd thousands hail the kindred race, 
 And court the heroes to their fond embrace : 420 
 
 In fond embraces strain 'd the captive clings, 
 And feels and looks unutterable things. 
 See there the widow finds her long-lost son, 
 See in each others' arms the lovers run ; 
 With joy tumultuous their swol'n bosoms glow, 425 
 
 And one short moment pays for years of woe ! 
 While grateful sports and festal songs proclaim, 
 Their joys domestic, and their distant fame. 
 
 Soon shall our sails, in commerce unconfin'd, 
 Whiten each sea and swell in every wind. 430 
 
 Then should far other pirates rove the main, 
 To plunder urg'd by sateless lust of gain ; 
 Rise, fathers of our councils ! trade protect, 
 Make warring pow'rs our neutral rights respect ; 
 To vengeance rous'd by many a corsair-crime, 436 
 
 Resume in wrath an attitude sublime ; 
 And make, as far as heav'n's dread thunder rolls, 
 Our naval thunder shake the sea-girt poles.
 
 ON THE FUTURE GLORY OF THE 
 
 Now see what deeds the coming days await, 
 Ere heav'n shall seal the finish'd book of fate. 440 
 
 Full soon the sons of anarchy will urge 
 The sister-states to dissolution's verge ; 
 Rending the feeble ties with frantic hand, 
 No hope of safety for our suffering land ; 
 Till Washington, with fed'ral patriots rise, 445 
 
 And draw more close th' indissoluble ties; 
 To constituted pow'rs new strength afford, 
 Nor war, nor feuds, nor time shall break the triple cord.* 
 
 Far in the west shall freedom's flag be rear'd, 
 There freedom make her holy voice be heard ; 450 
 
 No anarchists enjoy their pop'lar dreams, 
 Agrarian laws ! disorganizing schemes ! 
 No proud aristocrats imperious lour, 
 Or cringing minions court a despot's pow'r. 
 
 Then see strong bulwarks towns Atlantic guard, 455 
 
 O'er wastes, late trackless, wide high-ways prepar'd ; 
 Canals protract th' interminable tide, 
 While loaded barks through levell'd mountains glide ; 
 To nameless wilds new charms by culture giv'n, 
 And a new city rise the type of heav'n. 460 
 
 On broad Potowmac's bank then spring to birth, 
 Thou seat of empire and delight of earth ! 
 Of WASHINGTON assume the glorious name, 
 Immortal filed ge of union and of fame! 
 Hail site sublime ! unconscious of thy doom, 465 
 
 Thou future city burst the shapeless gloom, 
 From long oblivion wake unrivall'd rise 
 And spread thy destin'd beauties to the skies! 
 Through rows of goodly trees with umbrage fair, 
 And streams, whose freshness cools the summer air ; 470 
 From where the Tiber's tide thy margin laves, 
 To where Pctowmac rolls his sea-like waves, 
 I see thy spacious streets their walks extend, 
 The domes rise beauteous and the arches bend 
 I see thy portals proud, adorn 'd with art, 475 
 
 Where thronging nations enter and depart . 
 
 * Alluding to the legislative, executive and judicial powers. A three-fold cord is not 
 easily broken.
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 6S 
 
 Where lifts the CAPITOL its golden spires, 
 
 I see Columbia's delegated sires 
 
 Intent on high debate awful! serene! 
 
 Nor Greece nor Rome beheld an equal scene. * 480 
 
 Where the first magistrate of freemen dwells, 
 
 In simple state the noble pile excels. 
 
 Nor less those courts a deep attention draw, 
 
 Where rest enshrin'd, as oracles of law, 
 
 The judges of the land thence right shall reign, 485 
 
 Nor they the sword of justice bear in vain. 
 
 There stands thy fountain, science ! early plann'd 
 
 To pour a flood of blessings round the land 
 
 Since him who tastes thy salutary wave, 
 
 No force or fraud can make in mind a slave. 490 
 
 To our new empire, lo ! what crowds repair, 
 Walk in its light and in its blessings share ; 
 For there th' oppress'd a place of refuge find, 
 The last asylum for distrest mankind. 
 
 Columbia, hail ! exnlt thou happy state ! 495 
 
 Large in thy limits, in thy produce great ; 
 The harvests thine that rise by countless rills, 
 And thine the cattle on ten thousand hills. 
 
 Rejoice, Columbia ! fair in charms of youth, 
 Firm in thy trust th' eternal rock of truth 500 
 
 Shrink not from trials, nor to suff'rings yield, 
 The Lord, thy God, will guard thee with his shield 
 Of thy high destinies the call attend, 
 That bids thy stuay with time and nature end ; 
 Thy splendours grow with each increasing year, 505 
 
 And distant nations guide in freedom's great career. 
 
 Forerunners of this period wars shall rise, 
 And scenes of horror new beneath the skies 
 A monster-pow'r usurp the mighty void 
 
 Of thrones subverted and of states destroy 'd : 510 
 
 The fruitful parent of unnumber'd woes, 
 Nor less destructive to his friends than foes ; 
 With grasp fraternal when he stops the breath, 
 Gloomy as night and terrible as death ! 
 
 No beast more fell, with rage and vengeance swell'd, 515 
 Th' Apocalypse in Patmos' isle beheld.
 
 ON THE FUTURE GLORY OF THE 
 
 With half a thousand feet he treads down kings, 
 
 And strives to soar with five times fifty wings ; 
 
 Five heads the monster rears with serpent eyes, 
 
 And opes his mouths with boasts and blasphemies : 520 
 
 Where'er he moves he blasts the conquer'd land, 
 
 And deals destruction with unsparing hand ; 
 
 Surrounding monarchs paralys'd with awe, 
 
 Crouch the weak knee, receive th' unrighteous law : 
 
 While Rome's high pontiff from his sev'n hills huii'dj 525 
 
 In consternation leaves the papal world. 
 
 To save Columbia from that monster-pow 'r, 
 Behold how heav'n prepares a shelt'ring tow'r ! 
 As some hoar mound of adamantine rock, 
 Of mingling elements resists the shock ; 530 
 
 What time the storm of angry heav'n is hurl'd, 
 One sweeping deluge on the wasted world : 
 So flx'd firm Adams stands a flint his face 
 'Mid floods of wrath a shelter for our race. 
 
 Then see, like reptiles in their native dung, 535 
 
 New broods of monsters from the monster sprung; 
 Voracious revel in their sire's decay, 
 Suck his heart's blood, and perish* with their prey I 
 
 From disappointed hope, the baffled plan, 
 That promis'd bliss with liberty to pian ; 540" 
 
 From tyrant force too strong to be withstood, 
 Corruption, terror, ruin, fire, and blood ; 
 A Pow'r shall rise to bid the Discord cease, 
 And join all nations in the leagues of Peace. 
 
 To cure the pangs that nerve-torne nations feel, 545 
 
 A bleeding world with better balm to heal ; 
 Come, emanation from the King of Kings, 
 Religion ! come, with healing on thy wings ! 
 O'er wilds of western waves ascend our strand, 
 Send forth thy saving virtues round our land ! 550 
 
 Remit thy influence mild through every clime! 
 Wide as existence, durable as time, 
 
 * This prediction was written and seen by a number of the author's fiieails long before the 
 first deportation and changes of the French Directory.
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 65 
 
 Make earth's far corners feel thy sacred flamcj 
 And man adore th' UNUTTERABLE NAME ! 
 
 Then happier days, by hallow'd bards foretold, 555 
 
 Shall far surpass the fabled age of gold ; 
 The human mind its noblest pow'rs display, 
 And knowledge, rising to meridian day, 
 Shine like the lib'ral sun ; th' illumin'd youths 
 By fair discussion find immortal truths. 560 
 
 Why turns th' horizon red ? the dawn is neat: 
 Infants of light, ye harbingers appear ; 
 With ten-fold brightness gild the happier age, 
 And light the actors o'er a broader stage ! 
 This drama closing ere th' approaching end, 565 
 
 See heav'n's perennial year to earth descend. 
 Then wake, Columbians ! fav'rites of the skies, 
 Awake to glory, and to rapture rise t 
 Behold the dawn of your ascending fame 
 Illume the nations with a purer flame ; 570 
 
 Progressive splendours spread o'er ev'ry clime ! 
 Then wrapt in visions of unfolding time, 
 Pierce midnight clouds that hide his dark abyss, 
 And see, in embryo, scenes of future bliss ! 
 See days, and months, and years, there roll in night, 575 
 While age succeeding age ascends to light ; 
 Till your blest offspring, countless as the stars, 
 In open ocean quench the torch of wars : 
 With God-like aim, in one firm union bind 
 The common good and int'rest of mankind ; 580 
 
 Unbar the gates of commerce for their race, 
 And build the gen'ral peace on freedom's broadest base.

 
 REMARKS 
 
 ON THE WAR BETWEEN THE 
 
 UNITED STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 TRIPOLI.
 
 REMARKS, &c. 
 
 IT is not unknown to many of the citizens of the United States, 
 that the inadmissable demands and unprovoked aggressions of the 
 Bashaw of Tripoli have forced us into a war. From the menaces 
 of the Emperor of Morocco, a few months ago, notwithstanding 
 any temporary accommodation which has since taken place, it is 
 probable that he will, at no very distant day, be added to the num 
 ber of our enemies. Nor would it be surprising that the other two 
 powers of Barbary should ultimately make a common cause against 
 us. Should we be provoked by their piracies, what will remain 
 for us but to prosecute, on a larger scale, the plan of defence 
 which has at length been adopted? 
 
 The policy of protecting our commerce by a national marine 
 has ever been considered by me as a necessary part of the system 
 on which our public prosperity essentially depends. If any of my 
 writings, in an official or private capacity, in poetry or prose, 
 have tended to promote its adoption, I shall receive a complete 
 compensation for all the tedious correspondences, dangerous 
 voyages, and troublesome negociations, in which I was for many 
 years engaged, in consequence of the real and apprehended hos 
 tilities and depredations of some of the states of Barbary. While 
 I was charged with full powers to negociate with all of them, I 
 never ceased to give it as my opinion to my government, that the 
 employment of a sufficient marine force would be the cheapest 
 and most effectual mode of procuring and maintaining peace, For 
 a long time the want of resources, and afterwards the destination 
 of our few armed vessels to cover our navigation from other spo 
 liations, prevented our executive from affording the much needed 
 protection to our Mediterranean trade. 
 
 To avoid introducing any thing irrelevant, I shall omit to men 
 tion many particulars concerning my ministry, during the pro 
 tracted and distressing period in which a considerable number of 
 our countrymen were detained in slavery at Algiers. Such of them 
 as are still living will, I am confident, bear testimony to the 
 zeal with which I attempted to promote the public cause, and, at 
 the same time, to put a period to their individual suffering. I as 
 sume BO claim to merit for thus doing what was not immediately
 
 ro REMARKS ON THE WAR WITH TRIPOLI. 
 
 within the limits of my duty as a minister at a particular court; 
 but I may, perhaps, be permitted to indulge the gratification which 
 is derived from a consciousness of having cheerfully, faithfully, 
 and disinterestedly executed that trust. If the inconveniences 
 of many voyages, and especially the perils of a winter passage 
 across the western ocean, and of being driven repeatedly from 
 the American coast, after having been long at sea, in a leaky 
 ship, Avith a debilitated crew, contributed to hasten the release 
 of our brave countrymen, not from ideal and figurative, but real 
 and galling chains, it was enough. At last the day of their re 
 demption arrived. Treaties of amity were finally concluded with 
 all the Barbary states, by agents under my direction. New out 
 rages were, however, again meditated by one of them, as thus 
 announced in my communications* to the Secretary of State. 
 " This letter is particularly intended to transmit to government the 
 circular letter received this day from our Consul at Tripoli, an-? 
 nouncirg the imminent danger of an immediate rupture with that 
 regency. While I refer this communication to your attention, I 
 cannot but anticipate, from the various representations heretofore 
 made by our Consuls in Barbary, that adequate measures will 
 already have been taken to avert the blow." On another occasionf 
 these words were used: "I think I cannot display too much 
 eagerness in communicating to you, by different conveyances, the 
 news this moment received by me from Algiers. I hasten then 
 to transmit copies of Consul O'Brien's letters to the 6th instant, 
 which came to me through the department of the first minister of 
 State of his Catholic Majesty. From the last of these letters you 
 will learn that the Bey of Tripoli, having refused the mediation 
 of Algiers, the presents sent from thence, and the bills of Consul 
 Cathcart, was determined upon war against the United States, 
 and was sending his cruizers to sea accordingly. It is devoutly to 
 be wished that he may soon have^ reason to repent this wicked and 
 i*ash proceeding at his leisure. As it is a considerable time since 
 Consul Cathcart (whom I consider a very faithful and vigilant 
 public officer) took the wise precaution of giving extensive advice 
 of the great probability of this event, I cannot but hope that our 
 unarmed merchant vessels will not be exposed to the hazard of 
 Falling into the possession of these pirates, but that' they will rather 
 be retained in port (however inconvenient or expensive it may be) 
 until they can be protected by armed vessels of the United States 
 adequate to the purpose. 
 
 * See the letter dated Madrid, February C, 1S01. 
 
 j- Letter to the Secretary of Sutc, dated Mad: id, April 14,- 1801.
 
 REMARKS ON THE WAR WITH TRIPOLI. 7l 
 
 "On the policy of repelling force by force, and of blocking the 
 ports of this aggressor, I can add little to the motives which I 
 have already had the honour to ofler. I may, however, just be 
 allowed to say, that the circum stances seem more than at any 
 former time to reduce us to the alternative of having a few frigates 
 and light armed vessels in the Mediterranean, or of relinquishing 
 bur trade in it. To be at war with one of the Barbary powers 
 subjects our commerce to nearly the same risk as to be at war 
 with all of them. To chastise that haughty, but contemptible 
 power which now dares first to insult us by its aggression, would 
 serve not only as a salutary example to the other piratical states, 
 but it would produce an almost incalculable effect in elevating our 
 national character in the estimation of all Europe. National cha 
 racter and public opinion are far from being unimportant objects, 
 and more particularly as they respect a rising people. The many 
 liness of this conduct of nobly defending our commerce from pi 
 racy, so different from that which has been pursued by all the 
 civilized nations towards these barbarians, would raise the repu* 
 tation of our nascent marine in our own judgment, at the same 
 time that it would strike with astonishment those who, for a suc 
 cession of ages, have submitted to the most humiliating indignities 
 wantonly inflicted on them by a handful of banditti; and you may 
 vest assured that it would form, as it were, a new asra in the naval 
 history^of mankind." 
 
 Not long afterwards I continued my official correspondence* in 
 conveying to the Secretary of State the subsequent information: 
 " I have this day received advice from the Consul of the United 
 States at Genoa, to the following effect : ' I have now further tor 
 inform, that by advice given to Commodore Tornquist, from the 
 Swedish Consul, at Tunis, of the 24th March, communicated to 
 Consul Appleton, at Leghorn, the Bashaw of Trijioli did actually 
 declare war against the United Stales of America on the 26th 
 Of February ; and several privateers sailed from Tripoli early in 
 Mai-ch, to cruize against the Americans.' 
 
 " I trust a squadron will ere this be in the Streights, to show these 
 barbarians what the Americans are, and can do. Interim, I think 
 it incumbent on me to embargo all Americans in this port, to pre 
 vent our fellow citizens from falling into captivity, unless the! 
 Vessels are strongly armed, and in every way able to repel the at* 
 tacks of these ruffians." I proceed to say I have also this day- 
 received a letter from Consul Willis, at Barcelona, under date of 
 the 2d instant, informing me that there are twenty-two Ameri- 
 
 * IB a letter dated Madiid, May S, 1S01.
 
 T2 REMARKS ON THE WAR WITH TRIPOLI. 
 
 can vessels detained in that port, on account of the danger appre 
 hended from the corsairs of Tripoli. He had before written to 
 me that he should recommend to the masters of American vessels 
 to remain in port until they could be protected by a convoy. The 
 government will perceive the choice of evils to which our citizens 
 concerned in trade to the Mediterranean are reduced, and will 
 doubtless occupy its attention on the means of averting them." 
 
 The agreeable intelligence of the arrival of a few of our na 
 tional frigates, with one armed schooner, to protect the trade in 
 the Mediterranean, and the reflections occasioned by it, were thus 
 expressed* " Since the date of my last dispatch to you, I have 
 received a letter from Commodore Dale, dated in Gibraltar Bay, 
 the 2d instant, giving an account of the arrival of the squadron 
 under his command ; of his having found there the High Admiral 
 of Tripoli, with one ship and one brig; and of his own design to 
 sail for Algiers the next day, leaving one of his frigates to watch 
 the motions of those vessels of Tripoli. Nothing could have 
 been more opportune for the protection of our commerce, than 
 the arrival of this force, to prevent them from proceeding into the 
 western ocean, where, in a few days cruize between Cadiz and 
 Lisbon, they might, in all human probability, have produced the 
 most disastrous consequences, by capturing the property of our 
 merchants to an amazing amount, and making slaves of a great 
 number of our citizens. 
 
 " By the same courier who brought the before mentioned 
 letter from Commodore Dale, I received a packet from Consul 
 O'Brien, expedited from Algiers the 24th of last month, contain 
 ing also a letter for yourself, which will be transmitted herewith. 
 Notwithstanding he mentions the report that some of our mer 
 chant vessels had been taken by the corsairs of Tripoli, yet, from 
 the circumstance of his having received no recent communica 
 tions from the other Barbary states, from that of there having 
 been no information of such a disaster sent to me by any of our 
 Consuls in Italy or Spain, and, above all, from the very early 
 knowledge of the danger which had been spread in every port of 
 the Mediterranean, so that our seafaring citizens could not have 
 been ignorant of it, I cannot but hope the report is unfounded. 
 Fortunate, indeed, will it be for us, if our Mediterranean trade 
 should escape the threatened peril, with only the damage it must 
 suffer from having been interrupted for a short period ; as I flatter 
 myself that whatever might have been the idea at the time of 
 the sailing of Commodore Dale's squadron from America, that 
 
 * In the Icucr te the Secretary of Statr, dated Madild, July 27, 1801.
 
 REMARKS ON THE WAR WITH TRIPOLI. 73 
 
 trade will never again be left in the same exposed situation. 
 Knowing, as I do, that the great and increasing value of V, in 
 all points of estimation, is fully appreciated by government, I 
 shall only remark that the Dutch, in common with most of the 
 belligerent powers, having lost their carrying trade, the Danes 
 and Swedes having had their activity paralysed by the stroke lately 
 given by England to their navigation, and the Hanseatic towns and 
 Prussians having no vessels in the Mediterranean, on account of 
 their being at war with the Barbary States, no occasion could be 
 more favourable than the present for the encouragement of the 
 American spirit of industry and enterprize in that quarter." 
 
 The unexpected appearance of a squadron from the new world 
 in the Mediterranean, and the consequent decided measures of 
 declaring the port of Tripoli blockaded, and, as far as possible, 
 carrying that declaration into effect, astonished the regencies of 
 Barbary at our promptitude and boldness. The intelligence of 
 these proceedings was not only received with appi*obation and ap 
 plause by the nations of Europe, but operated powerfully in 
 placing the character of the United States in a more advantageous 
 point of view than it had ever before been contemplated. The 
 progress of our little marine in protecting our commerce, was thus 
 communicated* to the American Secretary of State. 
 
 " From Tunis and Leghorn I leai-n Commodore Dale had pub 
 lished a notification, purporting ' that the Bashaw of Tripoli 
 having declared war against the United States, the port of Tripoli 
 was blockaded by an armed force of the said States, and that all 
 vessels attempting to enter the same would be treated according 
 to the laws of nations.' This is the first instance (within my re 
 collection, during my residence in Europe) of any of the ports of 
 the Barbary powers being put in a state of blockade, notwith 
 standing their multiplied piratical aggressions against the Chris 
 tian nations. I cannot but flatter myself it will produce the hap 
 piest consequences, by being a commencement of the verification 
 of the prediction which I made in print more than fifteen years 
 ago, when not a single armed vessel, public or private, was owned 
 in the United States, that the time would come when the United 
 States would be the authors of the system for exterminating the 
 piracies, for so long a time committed with impunity by the Bar 
 bary powers." In the postscript to the same communication, 
 it was added " I have received letters from the Captains of the 
 frigates of the United States the Philadelphia and Essex, by the 
 last post from Malaga ; and I find by other accounts, that they 
 
 * In a letter dated Madrid, September 10, 1891.
 
 74 REMARKS ON THE WAR WITH TRIPOLI. 
 
 sailed from thence on the 12th instant, to join Commodore Dale 
 before Tripoli. The declaration of the blockade of that port by 
 an American naval force has made no inconsiderable sensation 
 in Europe. 
 
 " Captain Baron, of the Philadelphia, will doubtless have in 
 formed the Secretary of the Navy, that, in consequence of his 
 vigilance in watching the two armed vessels of Tripoli at Gib 
 raltar, the High Admiral has been obliged to dismantle and aban 
 don those vessels. 
 
 " The Consul of the United States at Gibraltar writes to me 
 that the timely arrival of the squadron under the orders of Com 
 modore Dale, has prevented at least twenty-five merchant ships, 
 belonging to citizens of the United States, with rich cargoes, 
 from falling into the possession of those pirates. I forward to you 
 herewith, a letter from Capt. O'Brien to me, dated at Algiers the 
 5th of this month, in which he gives a report of an action between 
 the American schooner Enterprize and a corsair of Tripoli." 
 The gallant conduct of Capt. Sterrit and his ship's company in 
 that engagement is too well known, and has been too highly ho 
 noured by government to require repetition or commendation on 
 this occasion. 
 
 While these transactions were performing, while it was doubtful 
 whether the King of Sweden would ratify the treaty which had 
 been negociated bp his agent with the Bashaw of Tripoli, and 
 while his Majesty's marine could lend us no assistance (at that 
 moment) by its co-operation, I offered the Chevalier Adlerberg, 
 then Swedish Charge cles Affaires at Madrid, to engage the Ame 
 rican squadron in the Mediterranean to furnish all possible pro 
 tection to the commerce of that nation, in case of the renewal of 
 hostilities. These overtures were gratefully accepted, and after 
 wards happily reciprocated, and became the basis of making joint 
 cause, and affording mutual convoy, as is actually the case. 
 
 It will not be improper, in this place, to say, the ancient mari 
 time nations of Europe have looked with admiration on our hardy 
 and successful commencement of a systematic defence of our na 
 vigation against piratical attacks. And the friends of humanity, 
 of all denominations, will undoubtedly be gratified by being in 
 formed, that the three great naval powers most interested in the 
 trade of the Mediterranean, viz. England, France, and Spain, 
 have given frequent and unequivocal proofs of their friendly dis 
 positions towards the United States, in the course of their attempts 
 to carry into execution the before-mentioned plan of protecting 
 their navigation by an armed force. 
 
 Although it will be perceived that the dissertation in prose,
 
 REMARKS ON THE WAR WITH TRIPOLI. 7s 
 
 ({ on the necessity of maintaining a navy in the United States," 
 which follows, was composed previous to the general peace in Eu 
 rope, and before any of our national vessels had been sent to the 
 Mediterranean ; yet it is deemed expedient to have it printed pre 
 cisely as it was written. For it is sincerely to be desired, that 
 no change of circumstances may lightly produce a change in the 
 measures which have been so properly employed to vindicate our 
 rights as a nation, and to bring those pirates to reason. 
 
 It must be taken into the calculation of every man who is ac 
 quainted with human nature, that variety of sentiments will al 
 ways be found in free nations. But in whatever manner the dif 
 ferent parties in the United States may differ in opinion on other 
 questions, it is to be hoped and expected, that perfect harmony 
 will prevail on this subject; and that every real friend to our 
 public felicity and national honour will concur in encouraging the 
 hearts, and strengthening the hands of those who may be instru 
 ments of Providence in rescuing us from the infamy to which so 
 many nations have, for so long a period, submitted. 
 
 Since my writing the preceding, the public papers have given 
 us to understand, that our Executive has received an official ac 
 count of the capture of the brig Franklin, of Philadelphia, by a 
 corsair of Tripoli. Americans of the United States, your fellow 
 citizens are in fetters! Can there be but one feeling? Where 
 are the gallant remnants of the race who fought for freedom? 
 Where the glorious heirs of their patriotism ? Will there never 
 be a truce between political parties ? Or must it for ever be the 
 fate of free States, that the soft voice of union should be drowned 
 in the hoarse clamour of discord? No. Let every fi'iend of 
 blessed humanity and sacred freedom entertain a better hope 
 and confidence. 
 
 New-Haven^ Nov. 1, 1802^
 
 THOUGHTS 
 
 ON THE NECESSITY OF MAINTAINING 
 
 A NAVY 
 
 IN THE 
 
 UNITED STATES 
 
 OF 
 
 AMERICA. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO THE AMERICAN PEOPLE.
 
 THOUGHTS, &c. 
 
 J. HE wealth and resources of a nation flow from an uninter 
 rupted and lucrative commerce, as naturally as streams from an 
 abundant and never-failing fountain. The persevering policy by 
 which England has acquired incalculable riches, and risen to un 
 rivalled greatness on the ocean, by means of a protected com 
 merce, is so well known as scarcely to require illustration or com 
 ment. It is true, its insular situation, and some accidental circum 
 stances have contributed, in a certain degree, to draw, if the allu 
 sion may be allowed, the universal trade of mankind into that 
 overflowing vortex. The false policy of France in particular, 
 during the greater part of her eventful revolution, in organising 
 a system of vexation and plunder, faithfully carried into execu 
 tion by her privateers, has served to enrich her rival in a manner 
 before unknown, and in the same proportion that it has tended to 
 impoverish the neutral nations, by diminishing their navigation, 
 while that of all the powers engaged in the war against England 
 has been reduced still nearer to nothing. But it is not necessary, 
 on this occasion, to discuss the subject of the rise, progress, de 
 cline or present state of the commerce of the once great mari 
 time powers of Europe. Our nation's interest has a more imme 
 diate claim upon our attention ; and it is intended to attempt to 
 demonstrate that this interest would be essentially promoted by 
 a NAVY. 
 
 Notwithstanding the heavy losses which we have sustained from 
 the ravages committed on our property at sea during the present 
 European war, our progress in improvements of almost every 
 sort, since the adoption of our general government, warrants the 
 conclusion, that many years will not elapse before the United States 
 must be classed among the powers of the earth which are the 
 most distinguished for national importance as well as for public 
 felicity. How far these blessings are connected with, and may be 
 hastened by our highly favourable situation for trade, remains to 
 be ascertained. We may begin with inquiring whether our peo 
 ple do not appear to possess as much activity and enterprize, uni 
 ted with as strong talents for exercising this profession with profit 
 to themselves and benefit to the community, as the inhabitants of 
 any country in the world ? And next we may ask, what other 
 country affords greater physical advantages for commerce than 
 the United States ? What other quarter of the globe furnishes an 
 equal abundance of waters, in its innumerable rivers and vast lakes, 
 for inland navigation ? In what nation, not superior in population
 
 60 THOUGHTS ON MAINTAINING 
 
 to ours, has interior navigation been so rapidly and so extensively 
 improved, by removing obstructions or opening canals ? At the 
 close of our revolutionary war, it was imagined by the best in 
 formed men in America, that several centuries must pass away 
 before the navigation of our principal rivers could be opened 
 through the mountains, in such a manner as to traverse the im 
 measurable regions of the midland country. Gen. Washington, 
 considering the magnitude of the undertaking, the scarcity of 
 money, and the want of hands, was almost of the same opinion. 
 But that benefactor of the new world knew that nothing is im 
 possible to industry, aided by the strength of patriotism, and con 
 ducted by the perseverance of system. He thought that no evil 
 could result from making the experiment even in our own time, 
 and that if it failed of success in one age, it would succeed in an 
 other. The work was undertaken and accomplished by him, 
 ere we, as a nation (to use the figure of a renowned orator), 
 had changed the grizzle of infancy into the bone of manhood. 
 The MAN who recommended the scheme, planned the work, and 
 undertook the superintendence of its execution, lived long enough 
 to see the navigation of the Potowmac completed. This success 
 ful example gave rise to many other undertakings of a similar 
 nature, which have likewise been attended with success. Such 
 a commencement justly astonishes mankind. Nor less do the im 
 provements for facilitating land-carriage, by the construction of 
 excellent roads and commodious bridges, exceed every thing of 
 the kind which the world has ever witnessed in a country so lately 
 settled. Such communications are now opened by land and by 
 water through every part of the country, that the market is in a 
 manner carried to every man's door: insomuch that commerce 
 not only causes our sea-ports and cities to flourish, but it diffuses, 
 in its vivifying course, competence and comfort to the remotest 
 scenes of rural life. Without a market, what would give a value 
 to the surplus of the farmer's produce beyond what was wanted 
 for the mere subsistence of his family? Without a market, what 
 would soon be seen but that apathy, negligence and sloth, which 
 degrade the listless peasants in some countries, almost to the level 
 with the improvident brutes? A ready market is to an agricul 
 tural people what the genial sun is to a prolific soil. By both 
 the cold clods are warmed into vegetation, industry is encouraged 
 and rewarded, and the deadly chills of poverty are driven far 
 from the cheerful dwellings of men. Behold the edifying spec 
 tacle of the mutual benefits conferred on civil societies, in the 
 friendly interchange of the fruits of human industry, by means of 
 a. commercial intercourse of one nation with another I Where-
 
 A NAVY IN THE UNITED STATES. 81 
 
 Soever commerce is prosecuted, the farmer, the artificer and the 
 sailor are mutually employed and benefited by labouring for each 
 other. In the lately uncultivated deserts of America, the labour 
 of a single farmer now obtains sufficient produce from the earth 
 to feed several artificers in the workshops of Europe, or several 
 seamen on board the vessels occupied in bartering their different 
 commodities. For it is in this Avay that the farmer receives, in 
 exchange for the crude fruits of his labours, all the conveniences 
 and even many of the delicacies of polished life. And he has still 
 an advantage over the mechanic and mariner, by adding the 
 profit of his land to that of his labour. Nor is his advantage ter 
 minated with the moment, for " his incomes exceed his out 
 goes," and he hoards up for the decline of his days, and for the 
 establishment of his posterity at ease after his death, no con 
 temptible portion of those precious metals which are the repre 
 sentatives of property in all the civilized countries of the world. 
 
 That we may the more readily comprehend the probable extent 
 of our future carrying-trade, it will not be indiscreet to take into 
 consideration the following circumstances. Since much less grain 
 is now raised, and much more bread now consumed in many 
 countries than heretofore, it would not be surprizing that the 
 United States should become, at no very remote period, in a great 
 measure the granary for those countries. Encouragement for car 
 rying our own produce to market, in our own vessels, is then an 
 object of increasing magnitude. The wise provision in our Con 
 stitution for preventing any impost being laid on exports, incon- 
 testably proves what encouragement to industry, and what wealth 
 to individuals, were expected to result from the removal of every 
 possible impediment to our exportation. And, happily for us, that 
 expectation has not been disappointed ; but the increase has far 
 surpassed every calculation. 
 
 Nor, in a public point of view, is commerce of less consequence 
 to the community. No truth is more clear than that commerce, 
 by means of duties and tonnages, is the chief source of revenue 
 for the United States. It furnishes us with the major part of the 
 money necessary for supporting our government and for defending 
 our country. Protect it, and, in return, it will continue to pro 
 tect you. Does there exist a man who requires to be informed, 
 that unless the safety of our navigation can be insured, our com 
 merce must run the risk of being ruined ; and that, if our com 
 merce should be ruined, one of the principal sources of national 
 industry and public revenue would, at the same moment, cease to 
 exist? In effect, without a navy we must, at least for a time, 
 relinquish the exercise of our right of carrying our own produce 
 
 M
 
 82 THOUGHTS ON MAINTAINING 
 
 to market ; or we must patiently submit to every species of in 
 jury, insult, and outrage. 
 
 It is not then a subject of wonder, that every intelligent go 
 vernment and nation should bestow much attention in discover 
 ing and making use of the best measures for extending and pro 
 tecting their navigation and commerce. The French govern 
 ment has lately said, " the French people wills a navy, and wills 
 it with energy." It is evident the American people wishes for 
 one, since the voice of the government, which must be in conso 
 nance with that of its constituents, has pronounced the expediency 
 of such an establishment. At length it has permitted our mer 
 chants to arm their vessels for their own defence ; and after 
 adopting a system for further defending our commerce by a na 
 tional marine, and providing materials and places for ship-build 
 ing, the work has been commenced, and several armed vessels 
 have already been constructed* As riches shall increase, and 
 exigences require, the means of augmenting our fleets will be 
 more obvious and more within our reach. The extent to which 
 the establishment ought to be carried, in the first instance, ap 
 pears to be the only question with Congress, and will doubtless 
 be decided upon a full and impartial consideration of local circum 
 stances, present population, increasing numbers, actual revenues, 
 growing resources, and foreign relations, in connection with the 
 use to which it is immediately to be applied: For, on the one 
 side, we should not be so selfish as to confine our political views 
 to the present age alone ; nor, on the other, is it a duty incumbent 
 upon us, to attempt to berr a burden beyond our strength, or to 
 contract an unnecessary debt, for the sake of posterity; Protec 
 tion is our avowed object, and malevolence dares not accuse us of 
 having any secret or ulterior design. It is our true interest to 
 cultivate the arts of peace, and to improve the means for public 
 and individual felicity, which heaven has so liberally granted to 
 us. We have given too many proofs of an acquaintance with 
 this onr true interest, to be charged with being actuated by mo 
 tives of mere ambition and aggrandisement. Although we are 
 inoffensive to others, yet we ought not to be heedless of happi 
 ness for ourselves. v To foresee at a distance disastrous events, 
 which are inevitable in themselves, and to take precautions in 
 time for averting the evils which would otherwise have followed, 
 are alike indicative of wisdom in governments as in individuals. 
 
 The system of a fair neutrality, adopted by the United States 
 at the beginning of the present European war, notwithstanding it 
 was subject to the obloquy of some persons at the moment, yet it 
 "will probably be the topic of applause as long as the history of
 
 A NAVY IN THE UNITED STATES. 83 
 
 this important period shall be known to posterity. The embar 
 rassing circumstances which attended our neutrality, while each 
 of the belligerent powers endeavoured alternatively to force us 
 into the war, prevented our government from devising any plan 
 for the protection of our trade so soon as could have been desired. 
 But this delay did not originate from want of foresight or from 
 want of patriotism. It was occasioned by a laudable delicacy in 
 principle, carried perhaps too far in practice, to avoid furnish 
 ing even a shadow of pretext to any of the belligerent powers 
 for precipitating us into hostility. If we are obnoxious to any 
 reproach, it is for having manifested too much patience hi suffer 
 ing wrongs, and too much slowness in arming for the vindication 
 of our rights. But we now experience the advantage of this con 
 duct, in finding more unanimity at home, from a conviction in all 
 classes of people, .that we could not have supinely endured those 
 spoliations any longer wjthout having been reduced to the last de 
 gree of national degradation ; as well as from an opinion spread 
 abroad, that our long forbearance was by no means the effect of 
 fear, and that the measures to which we were finally constrained 
 to resort for the protection of our trade, have been crowned with 
 uncommon success. The resort to these measures has likewise 
 discovered resources almost unknown to ourselves, and entirely 
 unexpected by the rest of mankind. In fine, the firm and dig 
 nified position which our government assumed, in refusing to com 
 ply with the demand of the late French government for purchas 
 ing a shameful peace with money, and in displaying the resolution 
 of repelling by force of arms every futui'e aggression from any 
 nation whatsoever, have justly elevated our national character in 
 the judgment of the world. And the more especially, because 
 these events took place at the very time when several once re 
 spectable powers had prostrated themselves, in mean submission, 
 at the feet of the Directory. 
 
 Taking it for granted, that the good policy of permitting our 
 merchants to arm their private vessels for their own defence, and 
 of sending to sea a number of public armed vessels to co-operate 
 in compelling a due respect for our flag, is now generally acknowr 
 ledged ; it may not, however, be improper to offer a few further 
 reflections on the expediency of prosecuting the same system. 
 When a reasonable and enlightened people, like the citizens of the 
 United States, perceive the wisdom and advantage of any import 
 ant public measure, there can be no doubt they will exert them r 
 selves to the utmost of their abilities to carry it into execution.. 
 No querulous inquiry, in regard to the expense, would then bpr 
 made, with an intention of defeating or retarding the operation of
 
 8-4 THOUGHTS ON MAINTAINING 
 
 the measure. As for example ; in the present case it would rather 
 be inquired, how far the property taken from us by the French 
 armed vessels, in addition to that taken from us by the armed ves 
 sels of other nations during this abominable war, would have suf 
 ficed for providing a maritime force for the protection of our trade? 
 Whether we are not still in danger of suffering similar or greater 
 losses, if we shall decline to furnish the means for defraying the 
 expenses of pi'osecuting the defensive system? And, finally, 
 whether the opinion once strongly impressed on the different ma 
 ritime powers of Europe, that we are determined, at every hazard, 
 to defend our property when lawfully navigated on the ocean, will 
 not more than probably prevent us from being plunged into war by 
 any of them? If the observation, in its general application, be 
 true, " that to be prepared for war is the way to prevent it," 
 certainly it cannot be less applicable to ourselves on the present 
 occasion, since the rapid increase of our population, resources 
 and political importance are not unknown to any of the naval 
 nations of Europe. Most of them having valuable colonies in our 
 neighbourhood, and some of them carrying on a rich commerce, 
 which must pass, as it were, before our doors, would naturally 
 feel no small apprehension, that in case of their attacking us, both 
 colonies and commerce might be liable to severe retaliation. But 
 should all these considerations prove insufficient for removing the 
 objection which some few persons may still make to the expense, it 
 must be remembered that, if we are desirous of continuing a 
 trade with other countries, in which we are to be the carriers of 
 our own produce, or, in other words, if we are determined (as it is 
 presumed we are) to afford the greatest practicable encouragement 
 to our agriculture, by giving a facility to the exportation of our 
 own produce, no option is left for us the system of defence is 
 indispensably necessary. In an adherence to this system the 
 interests of the merchant and the farmer are equally concerned. 
 And with it are connected the continuance of industry, the in 
 crease of revenue, and, in general, the prosperity of the state. 
 
 In order that the facility of maintaining a marine establishment, 
 adequate to all the purposes of protection, without over-burdening 
 ourselves with the expenses, may be the more easily perceived, 
 it will be Avell to consider that our principal fiscal resources may 
 be appropriated to this service without detriment to any other. 
 We have frequently occasion to congratulate ourselves upon being 
 separated from the other quarters of the globe by the ocean : the 
 difficulty of crossing the Atlantic with a sufficient force would 
 make it appear little short of madness in any nation of Europe to 
 meditate the conquest of our country. Our local situation, cutting
 
 A NAVY IN THE UNITED STATES. 85 
 
 us off by water from all the other parts of the world, happily 
 exempts us from the burden of maintaining large standing armies 
 in time of peace. A well-organized militia, and a few regular 
 regiments,* will always be sufficient for our ordinary defence upon 
 the land. Powerful standing armies, in time of peace, have often 
 and justly excited patriotic jealousies. But the most jealous re 
 publicans cannot apprehend any danger to the public liberty 
 from the establishment and maintenance of a navy. A defence on 
 the water is therefore our most natural, most necessary, and most 
 efficacious defence. And the chief expenditure for the national 
 protection being confined to this single object, it is rationally to 
 be presumed that, after a little time, no extraordinary exertion 
 will be necessary for furnishing ample supplies for this service. 
 To prevent it fi*om ever becoming burdensome, we ought, as far 
 as the circumstances will allow, to begin and persevere in an ceco- 
 nomical administration of the department. The Romans had a 
 saying ? " that it is right to learn from an enemy." In naval ceco- 
 nomy we received useful instruction from England during our 
 revolutionary war. And in peace shall we be less proud of pro 
 fiting by English experience ? No other nation is now so capable 
 of giving lessons in maritime affairs, for no other nation has had 
 such opportunities of acquiring practical knowledge for maintain 
 ing and conducting naval armaments. The victories gained by 
 the English fleets have proved that those opportunities were not 
 offered in vain. In no other article, perhaps, do the inhabitants 
 of united America so clearly demonstrate their descent as in 
 their aptitude for a sea-faring life. We possess artificers and 
 mariners equally skilled in their professions with those who exist 
 at present in England, together with more of the materials re 
 quisite for building, equipping and supporting a marine. If, in 
 imitation of the English Admiralty, we shall keep the circulat 
 ing medium expended on this department, in our own country as 
 much as possible, and pay the crews of our ships only in our own 
 ports, we may be well assured that the money applied to this 
 service will be principally retained at home, promote the activity 
 of business in circulating from hand to hand, and, at least, a pro- 
 portion of it return again into the public treasury. This ROT INK 
 seems, in truth, one of the most notable secrets of the British 
 government, for continually finding specie sufficient to defray the 
 enormous disbursements for their naval establishment. Let us 
 take their naval arrangements for our model in whatever is 
 worthy of imitation. 
 
 * Institutions for propagating military knowledge are also extremely neceisary.
 
 86 THOUGHTS ON MAINTAINING 
 
 On the always delicate subject of manning a navy, it is intended 
 merely to offer a few hints, which will be accepted or rejected by 
 those whose duty shall call them to decide on the whole arrange 
 ment of our marine establishment, according as the project pro 
 posed shall be just or unjust, convenient or inconvenient, reason 
 able or unreasonable. In many nations the mode of almost indis 
 criminate impression has been practised. In some an auxiliary 
 corps has been established ; in others the number of men wanted 
 has sometimes been proportioned to the parishes. It would, 
 doubtless, every where be desirable to obtain a full complement 
 of volunteers. This may be effected without any inconvenience 
 for the moment. But in America, where wages are higher than 
 they are in any other country in the world, this may perhaps be 
 attended with difficulty, delay, and even danger to the common 
 wealth, on some extraordinary emergency. Let us see then, be 
 fore such an emergency can happen, what could be done by re 
 sorting to a MARITIME CONSCRIPTION. In wishing to avoid the 
 serious and great evils which have occurred and do occur, in pro 
 curing men for the naval service in most if not all other nations, 
 it has already been respectfully submitted to the consideration of 
 some of the most distinguished public characters in the United 
 States, whether a kind of NAVAL MILITIA might not be esta 
 blished for manning our vessels of war? Whether, for that pur 
 pose, the seamen ought not to be enregistered throughout the dif 
 ferent States? And whether each State should not be required to 
 furnish its quota when necessary? These propositions were 
 founded upon the generally received doctrine, that every man 
 who enjoys the protection of government owes a certain propor 
 tion of his personal service to the defence of himself and his fel 
 low citizens, in the way most suitable to his profession. And shall 
 seamen, who have certainly not less occasion for the protection 
 of their government than any other class of citizens, be exempted 
 from this obligation ? Might not the law be so modified with re 
 spect to its execution, as well as in regard to the service, as not to 
 be eluded on the one hand, or oppressive to a most useful body of 
 men on the other? This project is now for the first time publicly 
 suggested,* without its being thought necessary to enter into the 
 detail of it. If the project be unjust, inexpedient, or impracti 
 cable, it will be left in oblivion ; if otherwise, whatever modifi 
 cations may be essential for the better adapting it to circumstances, 
 and putting it in practice, will, of course, present themselves in 
 the discussion of it. By a protected commerce, and profitable 
 
 * At least in the United States,- or, to the knowledge of the writer, at present in any 
 other cauutry.
 
 A NAVY IN THE UNITED STATES. 87 
 
 fishery, the nursery of seamen will be constantly augmented. 
 Nations destitute of these advantages can never create and sus 
 tain a national marine but by driving men from their proper ele 
 ment, and, if the expression may be permitted, maintaining a 
 constant struggle with nature itself. We possess these advan 
 tages in an extraordinary degree. And even with these, no 
 means ought to be omitted to render the profession still more allur 
 ing by good regulations, honourable by public encouragements, 
 and lucrative by liberal pay in time of peace, and the distribution 
 of prize-money and other rewards in time of war. It may then 
 be reasonably expected that the bias of a people whose genius in 
 clines, and whose capacity fits them peculiarly for the sea service, 
 will contribute much towards manning our navy. In the mean 
 time, the glory of our flag should be the burden of many an en 
 livening song, and the theme of many an animated oration. It is 
 by such means that the predilection for a sea-faring life should 
 be confirmed in those who are already capable of serving their 
 country in this department ; and that our children should be taught 
 from the very cradle to believe there is a fairer chance for advanc 
 ing their fortunes in that mode of life than in almost any other. 
 
 It need not be insisted upon, because it is a truth notorious to all 
 those who will be in a condition to judge of the propriety or 
 utility of these remarks, that our commerce in the Mediterranean 
 is becoming every day more extensive and more profitable. It is 
 equally unnecessary to add, that the danger of its being inter-* 
 rupted will of course hold some proportion to its increasing value 
 and defenceless situation : for who has not heard of the insatia 
 ble cupidity of the Barbary regencies, or of the frivolous pre 
 tences they frequently find to declare war solely for the purpose 
 of obtaining plunder ? Their avarice is like the thirst of a burn 
 ing fever It can never be satisfied the more it receives, the 
 more it craves and it will for ever cry, " not enough." Although 
 a peace has been concluded with all the powers, yet no person in 
 his sober senses, who is acquainted with their usual practices, 
 will calculate upon its long duration. By foi-ce of presents and 
 douceurs, they may be restrained from depredations for a little 
 time ; but tempted as they are by the prospect of booty, and in 
 vited by the want of protection, is it possible we should continue 
 that navigation (if it shall remain unprotected) without becoming, 
 at one period or another, the dupes of our credulity, and the vic 
 tims of their perfidy? But if the jealous policy of some other 
 nations shall be taken into the account, we may fairly calculate 
 that the period will be considerably accelerated. Thence it is 
 conceived to be more expedient, and even more necessary, to
 
 8 THOUGHTS, &c. 
 
 keep a small naval force in the Mediterranean than in any other 
 sea, in order that we may shun the afflicting consequences which 
 would probably follow, from a sudden rupture with either of those 
 powers an event so much to be expected, that it will be next to 
 a miracle if it should not happen within the course of a few years. 
 If either of those powers should suddenly declare war against us, 
 the value of the property which would fall into their hands, and the 
 expense of redeeming our citizens from slavery, would probably 
 amount to a greater sum of money than would have maintained 
 a naval force on that station powerful enough to have prevented 
 the catastrophe ; for a few strong frigates, together with a few fast 
 sailing smaller armed vessels, would be sufficient for the purpose. 
 
 A combination formed between the United States and some of 
 the maritime powers of the second order (whose interest is gene 
 rally the same as ours, to resist the spoliations of the free-booters 
 of all regions and religions), such as Sweden, Denmark, Portu 
 gal, &c. would afford the means of extirpating piracy in a short 
 time, and at a small expense. The frequent interruption and 
 great detriment which the commerce of Sweden and Denmark 
 has recently suffered would, in all probability, induce them to ac~ 
 cept such a proposal with not less sincerity than eagerness. 
 
 The Portuguese government has, for several years past, been in 
 the habit of keeping an armed force constantly afloat at the en 
 trance of the Mediterranean. That government has thereby 
 completely blocked all the corsairs of the Barbary states within 
 that sea ; and it has trained, in rotation, a respectable number of 
 seamen to active service on board its ships of war. This mea 
 sure seemed the more necessary in a nation, once the most enter- 
 prizing and skilful in maritime affairs of any in the world, for the 
 purpose of preventing the remains of that enterprize and that 
 skill from being lost. It has accordingly met with merited suc 
 cess, and that marine is at present far from being in a despicable 
 state. This is not, however, mentioned particularly as a motive 
 to operate with the people of the United States, who ai*e, per 
 haps, behind no other people in a propensity for, or experience 
 in, the nautical art.* But should the disasters before intimated 
 ever happen for want of suitable precautions, it cannot be said 
 hereafter, " what a misfortune it is for us that these things had 
 not been foreseen and foretold " Ye are forewarned be ye fore 
 armed and let preparation supersede the necessity of repentance ! 
 
 The writer will only add, it is time the ocean should be made 
 what heaven intended it, an open highway for all mankind. 
 
 * This refers, in a special manner, to the merchant-service, cod-fishery, and whaling.
 
 A 
 
 POEM 
 
 ON THE 
 
 INDUSTRY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 WRITTEN IN LISBON 
 WHEN THE 
 
 AVTHQZ WAS MINISTER AT THAT COURT. 
 
 N
 
 TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS 
 
 THE PRINCE REGENT OF PORTUGAL, 
 
 SIRE, 
 
 IN the long conflict which terminated by severing the ties that 
 attached the ancient colonies, now the United States of America, 
 to the mother country, Great-Britain, the Portuguese government, 
 equitable in its policy to the former, and faithful to its alliance with 
 the latter, could only have been expected to preserve a strict neu 
 trality. Some time after the conclusion of that war, it was my 
 destiny to have been employed on a public mission to her most 
 Faithful Majesty, for the purpose of cementing and consolidating 
 the friendship of our two governments and nations. Commercial 
 and friendly relations, I will dare to say mutually beneficial, of 
 an enlarged and valuable nature were formed. To have been the 
 the first Minister from the United States of America to Portugal ; 
 to have been instrumental in opening an extensively advantageous 
 intercourse between the inhabitants of the two countries ; to have 
 never been involved in any unpleasant discussion ; and to have en 
 joyed the uninterrupted favour of the Royal Family of Braganza, 
 when accredited as a diplomatic agent near its chief for more 
 than seven years, are circumstances which will continue to be re 
 membered, with conscious pleasure, to the latest period of my life. 
 And never shall I hesitate to acknowledge, with manly gratitude, 
 the liberal and amicable conduct of the cabinet of Lisbon towards 
 the United States as a nation, and myself as their representative. 
 Nor ought my acknowledgments to be expressed with less de? 
 ference or cordiality for the distinguished treatment which I expe 
 rienced in the particular audience recently accorded by the Prince 
 Regent of Portugal to me, in my private character, when he sig 
 nified his great satisfaction at being presented with the following 
 Poem. 
 
 The Poem, which treats of the national industry of the United 
 States, was composed on the delightful banks of the Tagus, while 
 I was thus honourably occupied on a public mission, and when my 
 flays were pleasantly passed in the enjoyment of health, happiness,
 
 92 DEDICATION. 
 
 and content. To whom, then, could it with more propriety be 
 addressed than to the Prince Regent of Portugal ? 
 
 Actuated by a lively sense of such enviable distinctions, I offer 
 the tribute of sincerity in inscribing this Poem as a testimony of re 
 spect for a " JUST PRINCE ;" an afifiellation which I had the most 
 satisfactory reasons for applying* when I took leave of the Court 
 of Lisbon, in 1797, and which has since been confirmed by almost 
 innumerable titles. If, Sire, I have ever wished for a capacity of 
 paying a still larger tribute of honour where it is most due, it was 
 that your princely and personal virtues might be as advantageously 
 known to the remotest posterity as to the existing generation. 
 
 With these sentiments of your munificent public and exemplary 
 private conduct, 
 
 I have the honour to profess myself, 
 Sire, 
 
 Your Royal Highness's most devoted 
 And most humble servant, 
 
 D. HUMPHREYS. 
 Lisbon, Afiril 14, 1802. 
 
 See the Sonnet addressed, on that occasion, to the Prince of Brazil.
 
 ADDRESS 
 
 TO THE 
 
 PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 J. HE main scope of the author's principal productions in verse, 
 has been to indicate to his fellow-citizens, in a connected manner, 
 the measures best calculated for increasing and prolonging the 
 public felicity. He deemed the success of our revolution the broad 
 basis on which this superstructure was to be built. The first thing 
 to be done was to establish our independence ; the second to prepare 
 the national mind to profit by our unusual advantages for happi 
 ness ; and the next to exhibit in perspective those numberless bles 
 sings which Heaven has lavished around us, and which can 
 scarcely be lost but by our own folly or fault. Having attempted 
 to furnish his countrymen with some seasonable arguments and re 
 flections on these subjects, in his *' Address to the Armies," in his 
 " Poem on the Happiness of America," and in the " Prospect of 
 the Future Glory of the United States," he proposes now to show 
 the prodigious influence of national industry in producing public 
 and private riches and enjoyments. 
 
 One of the primary objects of a good government is to give 
 energy and extent to industry, by protecting the acquisitions and 
 avails of their labour to the governed. This industry is the cause 
 of the wealth of nations. It hastens their advancement in the arts 
 of peace, and multiplies their resources for war. Under such a 
 safeguard, mankind, engaged in any lawful and productive pro 
 fession, will advance, at the same moment, their own interest and 
 that of the commonwealth. Universal prosperity must ensue. 
 With us, the successful issue has been the best panegyric of such 
 a system. Could industry become generally fashionable and pre 
 valent, indigence, and the calamities that flow from it, would be 
 confined within very narrow channels. With a few exceptions, 
 such as are offered by the bee, the ant, and the beaver, social toil, 
 which accomplishes works truly astonishing for their contrivance 
 and magnitude, distinguishes the human race from every species 
 of the animal creation. A reciprocation of wants and aids, as it 
 were, rivets man to his fellows. What isolated person can per 
 form for himself every act which his helpless and feeble state re 
 quires ? By a combination of well-directed efforts, what miracles 
 of improvement, what prodigies in refinement, may be effected ! 
 The expediency, and even the necessity of concerted and perse-
 
 94 ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE OF THE 
 
 vering operations, have a natural tendency to confirm and aug 
 ment, through the medium of mutual services and benefits, fidelity, 
 kindness, valour and virtue, among the members of civil society. 
 Who, then, will envy the indolent and comfortless lot of the so 
 litary savage, or the thinly scattered tribes of the desert? 
 
 The influence of industry is not less efficacious in procuring per 
 sonal advantage and fruition for individuals. It commonly gives 
 health of body and serenity of mind, together with strength of re 
 solution and consistency of character. It thus furnishes a kind of 
 moral force for overcoming the sluggishness of matter, which con 
 stantly inclines to repose. Influenced by a desire of being free 
 from humiliating dependence and degrading penury, every man, 
 who is not visited by sickness or prevented by disaster, will be en 
 abled, in his youthful days, to provide a plentiful subsistence for 
 his old age ; so that, in the last stages of infirmity and decrepi 
 tude, distress and mendicity will seldom, if ever, be seen. Such 
 is now the condition of the people of the United States of Ame 
 rica. To flatter the idle and worthless, by perpetually declaiming 
 on the duty of the industrious and wealthy to dispense largely their 
 contributions and charities, is the insidious language often used in 
 Europe by many vociferous demagogues and revolutionary scribr 
 biers. To prevent poverty as much as possible, by presenting 
 employment to protected and provident industry, is the high office 
 of a wise and just government. In our country that policy has 
 been successful beyond all former example. The traveller may 
 journey thousands of miles without meeting a single beggar. And 
 herein a striking difference will be remarked between our country 
 and most of the countries in the world. 
 
 That industry is capable of speedily changing a dreary wilder 
 ness into a cheerful habitation for men, the history of the progress 
 of society in the United States of America has sufficiently proved. 
 It is at present generally understood, that an unequalled share of 
 happiness is enjoyed by the inhabitants of this newly discovered 
 continent. This is, perhaps, chiefly attributable (under the be 
 nediction of Providence) to their singularly favourable situation 
 for cultivating the soil. May we not fairly calculate that this 
 effect will continue co-existent with the cause ; namely, the abun 
 dance and cheapness of land? An almost unlimited space of ex 
 cellent territory remains to be settled. Freehold estates may be 
 purchased upon moderate terms. Agriculture will probably, for 
 a succession of ages, be the chief employment of the citizens of 
 the United States. 
 
 Notwithstanding the beauties and pleasures of rural life have 
 so frequently been happily described in poetry, it was presumed
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 95 
 
 the settlement and cultivation of a new hemisphere might supply 
 some new topics and allusions. There many things wore a novel 
 appearance, when examined in their process and result. The 
 agricultural character was presented in action, with more than 
 usual effect and felicity. The changes were, in some respects, 
 like those in a garden of enchantment. Upon the introduction 
 of civilization into those rugged and inhospitable regions, whose 
 barbarity was coeval with the world, forests fell, houses rose, and 
 beautiful scenery succeeded. It was not intended, by deviating 
 from the beaten track of describing old establishments, to run 
 unnecessarily into the bye-path of innovation and singularity. 
 Many American prospects rose before the author's transported 
 imagination, when he was far absent from his native land. How 
 frequently did he wish for a magic pencil to make them equally 
 present to the mental sight of his European friends ! How often, 
 and with how much ardour, did his fancy dwell on the humble and 
 unvarnished blessings of peace, when contrasted with the proud 
 and dazzling miseries of war I In thus ruminating on the walks 
 of still life, he hoped he should at least be permitted, without in 
 curring the displeasure of any ill-natured critic, to proceed in a 
 course so amusing to himself, picking here and there a wild or cul 
 tivated flower, and attempting to delineate such landscapes as he 
 might occasionally find, interspersed with scenes of romantic 
 grandeur or domestic simplicity. 
 
 This Poem was pi'oposed to be so constructed as to permit sen 
 timent to be mingled with description, without appearing mis 
 placed. The author makes no excuse for having bestowed a por 
 tion of his mortal duration, not immediately claimed by business 
 or duty, in recommending to his countrymen that industry, which, 
 he conceives, would most effectually promote their temporal hap 
 piness. In this, as in every thing not unlawful, he feels himself 
 a free agent, accountable for his actions to his conscience and liis 
 God. Yet it would be an unworthy affectation to pretend a total 
 insensibility to the opinion of others, or, more properly speaking, 
 to that of the enlightened and virtuous part of the community. 
 However sensible he might be to their favourable decision, he 
 must be allowed to be more ambitious of deserving than obtaining 
 it. Consciousness of an upright endeavour to serve, and a reasona 
 ble solicitude to please, those to whom this address is offered, may 
 satisfy himself. No one more sincerely or fervently desires their 
 attainment of felicity. If any thing produced or done by him shall 
 have been obviously calculated for that object, he will have per 
 formed the most pleasing task which he could have imposed on 
 himself. 
 
 D HUMPHREYS,
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Genius of Culture invoked prodigious effect of toil in 
 changing the fate of nature -state of our country when it 
 was first settled by our ancestors their manly efforts crowned 
 with success contrast between JVbrth and South-America the 
 latter remarkable for mines, as the former is for agricul 
 ture in what manner labour embellishes the land different 
 branches of cultivation recommended the fabrication of ma 
 ple-sugar dwelt upon, as having a gradual tendency to the 
 abolition of slavery commerce to succeed strong propensi 
 ties of the people of the United* States for extensive naviga 
 tion effeminate nations are always in danger of losing their 
 independence several specified which have experienced the 
 debilitating consequences of sloth its destructive influence on 
 states Congress called upon to encourage industry in the 
 United States ; and Washington, as President, to protect manu 
 factures machinery for diminishing the operations of manual 
 labour the loom wool sheep -flax and hemp remonstrance 
 against suffering our manufacturing establishments to be frus 
 trated by an unreasonable predilection for foreign fabrics 
 the fair sex invited to give the example of encouraging home 
 manufactures their province in the United States their in 
 fluence on civilized society deplorable condition of savage 
 life moral effect of industry on constitution and character 
 bold and adventurous spirit of our citizens prepared by har 
 diness to distinguish themselves on the ocean and in war 
 allusion to our -contest with Britain happiness of our present 
 peaceful situation the Poem is concluded with the praises of 
 Connecticut as an agricultural State.
 
 A POEM 
 
 ON THE 
 
 INDUSTRY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 vrENITJS of Culture! thou, whose chaster taste 
 
 Can clothe with beauty ev'n the dreary waste ; 
 
 Teach me to sing, what bright'ning charms unfold, 
 
 The bearded ears, that bend with more than gold; 
 
 How empire rises, and how morals spring, 5 
 
 From lowly labour, teach my lips to sing ; 
 
 Exalt the numbers with thy gifts supreme, 
 
 Ennobler of the song, my guide and theme ! 
 
 Thou, toil ! that mak'st, where our young empire grows, 
 The wilderness bloom beauteous as the rose, 10 
 
 Parent of wealth and joy! my nation's friend! 
 Be present, nature's rudest works to mend ; 
 With all the arts of polish'd life to bless, 
 And half thy ills, Humanity ! redress. 
 
 On this revolving day, that saw the birth 15 
 
 Of a whole nation glad th' astonished earth; 
 Thee . I invoke to bless the recent reign 
 Of independence but for thee how vain 
 Each fair advantage liberty has giv'n, 
 
 And all the copious bounties show'r'd by heav'n? 20 
 
 Hail, mighty pow'r ! whose vivifying breath 
 Wakes vegetation on the barren heath ; 
 Thou changest nature's face ; thy influence such, 
 Dark deserts brighten at thy glowing touch; 
 Creation springs where'er thy plough-share drives, 2 
 
 And the dead grain, an hundred fold, revives. 
 Thy voice, that dissipates the savage gloom. 
 Bade in the wild unwonted beauty bloom : 
 
 O
 
 98 ON THE INDUSTRY OF THE 
 
 By thee and freedom guided, not in vain, 
 
 Our great fore-fathers dar'd the desert main : 30 
 
 O'er waves no keel had cut they found the shore, 
 
 Where desolation stain 'd his steps with gore, 
 
 Th' immense of forest ! where no tree was fell'd, 
 
 Where savage-men at midnight orgies yelPd; 
 
 Where howl'd round burning pyres each ravening beast, 35 
 
 As fiend-like forms devour'd their bloody feast, 
 
 And hoarse resounded o'er the horrid heath, 
 
 The doleful war-whoop, or the song of death. 
 
 Soon our progenitors subdu'd the wild, 
 
 And virgin nature, rob'd in verdure, smil'd. 40 
 
 They bade her fruits, through rifted rocks, from hills 
 
 Descend, misnam'd innavigable rills: 
 
 Bade houses, hamlets, towns, and cities rise, 
 
 And tow'rs and temples gild Columbian skies. 
 
 Success thence crpwn'd that bold, but patient band, 45 
 
 Whose undegen'rate sons possess the land ; 
 
 Their great fore-fathers' principles avow, 
 
 And proudly dare to venerate the plough. 
 
 Where slaughter's war-dogs many a tribe destroy'd, 
 Not such the race who fill'd the southern void: 50 
 
 For them unbidden harvests deck the soil, 
 For them in mines unhappy thousands toil, 
 Where Plata's waves o'er silvery sands are roll'd, 
 . Or Amazonia's path is pav'd in gold. 
 
 There suns too fiercely o'er the surface glow, 55 
 
 And embryon metals form and feed below ; 
 Where, shut from day, in central caverns deep, 
 Hopeless of freedom, wretches watch and weep ; 
 Compell'd for gold to rip the womb of earth, 
 And drag the precious mischief into birth. 60 
 
 Yet where those vertic suns intensely shine, 
 Whose fires the metals more than men refine, 
 To drain their limbs of strength the climate serves, 
 And not our vigour strings their slacken'd nerves. 
 
 While all your gains the social pact secures, 65 
 
 Columbians J say, what happiness is yours ? 
 Say, ye who, not as tenants, till the soil, 
 The joys that freemen find in rural toil ?
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 99 
 
 In what blest spot, through all terraqueous space, 
 
 Exists a hardier or a happier race ? 70 
 
 Ye bid your glebes with future germs rejoice, 
 
 And seeds that sleep inhum'd strait hear your voice. 
 
 How change the prospects at your blithe command ! 
 
 Where weeds and brambles stood now flowrets stand. 
 
 How blooms the dell, as spreads the rippling rill, 75 
 
 While mottled cattle top the moving hill ! 
 
 Bid marshall'd maize the tassell'd flag unfold, 
 
 And wheat-ears barb their glistening spears with gold: 
 
 In northern plains the orchard's produce glow, 
 
 Or with its beverage pure the press overflow ; 80 
 
 In southern climes, beneath a fervid sky, 
 
 Savannas, green with rice, refresh the eye ; 
 
 There, from th' adopted stranger-tree, despoil 
 
 The branch that cheers for peace, the fruit with oil. 
 
 O'er fens, reform'd, let verdant grass succeed 85 
 
 The blue-ting'd indigo pestiferous weed ! 
 
 Where dun, hoed fields, afford subsistence scant 
 
 For those who tend Tobago's luxury plant, 
 
 Bid other crops with brighter hues be crown *d, 
 
 And herb for beast, and bread for man abound. 90 
 
 With little fingers let the children cull, 
 
 Like flakes of snow, the vegetable wool ; 
 
 Or nurse the chrysalis with mulberry leaves, 
 
 The ivorin whose silk the curious artist weaves : 
 
 Let buzzing bees display the winnowing wing, 95 
 
 Seek freshest flowers, and rifle all the spring: 
 
 Let brimming pails beside the heifers stand, 
 
 With milk and honey flow the happy land ; 
 
 And turn the wildest growth to human use, 
 
 Ambrosial sugar find from maple-juice ! 100 
 
 Thou, dulcet tree, imbue the flowing song 
 With thy distilling drops, untried too long ! 
 Thee, dancing round in many a mazy ring, 
 The rustic youths and sylvan maids shall sing. 
 In sacch'rine streams thou pour'st the tide of life, 105 
 
 Yet grow'st still stronger from th' innocuous knife; 
 Thy sap, more sweet than Hybla's honey, flows, 
 Health for the heart-sick cure of slavery's woes 
 Then, as th' unfailing source, balsamic, runs, 
 Dispense that cordial, hope, for Afric's sons! 110
 
 100 ON THE INDUSTRY OF THE 
 
 Oh, could my song impressive horror bring, 
 Of conscious guilt th' insufferable sting ; 
 From eyes untaught to weep the tear should start. 
 And mercy melt the long obdur'd of heart. 
 See naked negroes rear the sugar'd reeds ! 115 
 
 Behold ! their flesh beneath their driver bleeds ! 
 And hear their heart-heav'd groans ! then say, how good, 
 How sweet, the dainties drugg'd with human blood ! 
 
 t Though night's dark shades o'ercast th' ill-favour 'd race, 
 Nor transient flushes change the vacant face ; 120 
 
 Though nature ne'er transforms their woolly hair 
 To golden ringlets, elegantly fair ! 
 Yet has not God infus'd immortal powers, 
 The same their organs and their souls as ours ? 
 Are they not made to ruminate the sky ? 125 
 
 Or must they perish like the beasts that die ? 
 Perish the thought that men's high worth impairs, 
 SONS OF OMNIPOTENCE, AND GLORY'S HEIRS ! 
 
 Come, ye who love the human race divine, 
 Their bleeding bosoms bathe with oil and wine, 130 
 
 Bind up their wounds then bless the dulcet tree, 
 Whose substituted sweets one slave may free; 
 Till new* discoveries more man's wrath assuage, 
 And heav'n restrain the remnant of his rage. 
 
 Thou, slavery, (maledictions blast thy name 1) 135 
 
 Fell scourge of mortals, reason's foulest shame ! 
 Fly, fiend infernal 1 to thy Stygean shore, 
 And let thy deeds defile my song no more. 
 
 Heav'ns ! still must men, like beasts, be bought and sold, 
 The charities of life exchang'd for gold ! 140 
 
 Husbands from wives, from parents children torn, 
 In quivering fear, with grief exquisite, mourn ! 
 No, soon shall commerce, better understood, 
 With happier freight promote the mutual good. 
 
 * The recent invention in Prussia of extracting sugar from the Beteravt, orEeet,it is to be 
 hoped will be followed by useful results. This, indeed, may be expected from the report of a 
 committee to the National Institute of France. Tt is a well known fact, that many families 
 in the new settlements of tire United States are entirely supplied with sugar manufactured 
 from maple-sap.
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. lot 
 
 As fed by snows of winter, show'rs of spring, 145 
 
 Whatever the seasons in succession bring ; 
 
 What summer ripens and what autumn yields, 
 
 Th' immeasurable growth of fertile fields I 
 
 Our rapid fleets to realms that want convey, 
 
 And new-born stars in wond'ring skies display. 150 
 
 Ev'n now innumerous ships, their flags unfurl'd, 
 
 With flying canvass cloud the wat'ry world ; 
 
 Commercing, steer beneath the burning line, 
 
 Near icy mountains, on the polar brine ; 
 
 From cheerless cliffs, where not a blossom blows, 15S 
 
 Whose wild craggs whiten in eternal snows, 
 
 To where the smooth Pacific Ocean smiles, 
 
 Cheer'd by the fragrance of the spicy isles. 
 
 Not thus enervate nations tempt the seas, 
 
 By luxury lull'd in soft voluptuous ease ; 160 
 
 Thence sloth begets servility of soul, 
 Degrades each part, contaminates the whole ; 
 And taints in torpid veins the thickening blood, 
 Like the green mantle on a mire of mud. 
 
 Where convents deal the poor their daily broth, 165 
 
 See charity herself encourage sloth I 
 Though helpless some, more lazy join the troop, 
 And healthful beggars swell the shameless groupe. 
 Will heav'n benignant on those nations smile, 
 Where sloth and vice are less disgrace than toil? 170 
 
 With opiates drunk, in indolence reclin'd, 
 Unbrac'd their sinews, and debauch'd their mind, 
 Can crowds, turn'd cowards, self-esteem retain, 
 Or long unspoil'd of freedom's gifts remain? 
 Tis by the lofty purpose, desperate deed, 175 
 
 Of men who dare for liberty to bleed, 
 By long endurance, fields with crimson stain'd, 
 That independence won, must be maintain'd. 
 
 Where art thou, Athens ! thy high spirit lost! 
 Where, Sparta! that defied all Asia's host! 180 
 
 And where (in dust her mould'ring trophies hurl'd) 
 Imperial Rome, the mistress of the world ! 
 How Lusitania, queen of diamond mines, 
 (Her glorious Gamas dead) a widow pines ! 
 And will not grave Iberia learn, at length, 185 
 
 In toil, not gold, consists a nation's strength!
 
 102 ON THE INDUSTRY OF THE 
 
 How long shall empires feel, destructive sloth ! 
 
 Thy cank'ring breath, that checks and kills their growth? 
 
 If sloth to dissolution yields the prey, 
 
 Take but the cause, we take th' effect away. 190 
 
 Sages, conven'd from delegating states, 
 Who bear the charge of unborn millions' fates; 
 From early systems states their habits take, 
 And morals more than climes a difference make : 
 Then give to toil a bias, aid his cause 195 
 
 With all the force and majesty of laws ; 
 So shall for you long generations raise, 
 The sweetest incense of unpurchas'd praise ! 
 
 Thou, Washington, by heav'n for triumphs nurs'd, 
 In war, in peace, of much lov'd mortals first! 200 
 
 In public as in private life benign, 
 Still be the people heav'n's own care and thine ! 
 While thou presid'st, in useful arts direct, 
 Create new fabrics and the old protect. 
 
 Lo! at thy word, subdued for wond'ring man, 205 
 
 What mighty elements advance the plan ; 
 While fire and wind obey the Master's call, 
 And water labours in his forceful fall ! 
 Teach tiny hands with engin'ry to toil, 
 
 Cause failing age o'er easy tasks to smile ; 210 
 
 Thyself that best of offices perform, 
 The hungry nourish and the naked warm ; 
 With gladness picture rescued beauty's eye, 
 And cheek with health's inimitable dye; 
 
 So shall the young, the feeble find employ, 215 
 
 And hearts with grief o'erwhelm'd emerge to joy. 
 
 First let the loom each lib'ral thought engage, 
 Its labours growing with the growing age ; 
 Then true utility with taste allied, 
 
 Shall make our homespun garbs our nation's pride. 220 
 
 See wool, the boast of Britain's proudest hour, 
 Is still the basis of her wealth and pow'r! 
 From her the nations wait their wintiy robe, 
 Round half this idle, poor, dependant globe. 
 Shall we, who foil'd her sons in fields of fame, 2^5 
 
 In peace add noblest triumphs to her name ?
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 103 
 
 Shall we, who dar'd assert the rights of man, 
 
 Become the vassals of her wiser plan ? 
 
 Then, rous'd from lethargies up ! men ! increase, 
 
 In every vale, on every hill, the fleece ! 230 
 
 And see the fold, with thousands teeming, fills 
 
 With flocks the bleating vales and echoing hills. 
 
 Ye harmless people! man your young will tend, 
 
 While ye for him your coats superfluous lend. 
 
 Him nature form'd with curious pride, while bare, 235 
 
 To fence with finery from the piercing air : 
 
 This fleece shall draw its azure from the sky, 
 
 This drink the purple, that the scarlet dye ; 
 
 Another, where immingling hues are giv'n, 
 
 Shall mock the bow with colours dipt in heav'n: 240 
 
 Not guarded Colchis gave admiring Greece 
 
 So rich a treasure in its golden fleece. 
 
 Oh, might my* guidance from the downs of Spain, 
 Lead a white flock across the western main ; 
 Fam'd like the bark that bore the Argonaut, 245 
 
 Should be the vessel with the burden fraught ! 
 Clad in the raiment my Merinos yield, 
 Like Cincinnatus fed from my own field ; 
 Far from ambition, grandeur, care and strife, 
 In sweet fruition of domestic life ; 250 
 
 There would I pass with friends, beneath my trees, 
 What rests from public life, in letter'd ease. 
 
 To toil encourag'd, free from tythe and tax, 
 Ye farmers sow your fields with hemp and flax : 
 Let these the distaff for the web supply, 255 
 
 Spin on the spool, or with the shuttle fly. 
 But what vile cause retards the public plan ? 
 Why fail the fabrics patriot zeal began ? 
 Must nought but tombs of industry be found, 
 Prostrated arts expiring on the ground ? 260 
 
 Shall we, of gewgaws gleaning half the globe, 
 Disgrace our country with a foreign robe? 
 Forbid it int'rest, independence, shame, 
 And blush that kindles bright at honour's flame ! 
 
 * Ssc the pieces on the Merino breed of Sheep.
 
 104 ON THE INDUSTRY OF THE 
 
 Should peace, like sorcery, with her spells controul 265 
 
 Our innate springs and energies of soul ; 
 To you, Columbian dames J my accents call, 
 Oh, save your country from the threaten'd fall! 
 Will ye, blest fair ! adopt from every zone 
 Fantastic fashions, noxious in your own ? 270 
 
 At wintry balls in gauzy garments drest, 
 Admit the dire destroyer in your breast? 
 Oft when nocturnal sports your visage flush, 
 As gay and heedless to the halls ye rush, 
 
 Then death your doom prepares : cough, fever, rheum, 275 
 And pale consumption nip your rosy bloom. 
 Hence many a flow'r in beauty's damask pride, 
 Wither'd, at morn, has droop'd its head and died.* 
 While youthful crimson hurries through your veins, 
 No cynic bard from licit joys restrains ; 280 
 
 Or bids with nature hold unequal strife, 
 And still go sorrowing through the road of life. 
 Nor deem him hostile who of danger warns, 
 W T ho leaves the rose, but plucks away its thorns. 
 
 In our new world not birth and proud pretence, 285 
 
 Your sex from skill in household cares dispense. 
 Yet those where fortune smiles, whom fancy warms, 
 May paint historic or ideal forms; 
 Teach the fair flow'r on lucid lawn to spring, 
 The lute to languish or the tongue to sing. 290 
 
 With letters, arts, botanic, chemic skill, 
 Some shall their leisure hours delighted fill ; 
 While some, for studies more sublime design'd, 
 Expatiate freely o'er the world of mind: 
 
 Another class on boldest wing shall soar, 295 
 
 The wand'ring stars and ways of heav'n explore; 
 Still skill'd not less in captivating arts, 
 To move our passions and to mend our hearts. 
 While tiptoe spirits buoy each graceful limb, 
 See down the dance the lovely fair-one swim ; 300 
 
 Her own neat needle-work improves her bloom, 
 Cloth'd in the labours of Columbia's loom: 
 
 * This, it is wished, may be received as a useful warning by young persons against expos 
 ing themselves, when too thinly clad, to the winter air. Many deaths have been occasioned 
 ky imprudencics of this nature.
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. los 
 
 Her lover sees express'd upon her face, 
 
 Angelic goodness, loveliness and gra"ce ; 
 
 And hopes, in bridal bow'rs, to meet those charms, 305 
 
 Bliss to his soul and rapture in her arms ! 
 
 Then, oh, ye fair ! refin'd each grosser sense, 
 
 'Gainst delicacy shun the least offence. 
 
 What though not call'd to mix in cares of state, 
 
 To brave the storm of battle or debate; 310 
 
 Yet in our revolution greatly brave, 
 
 What high examples to our sex ye gave ? 
 
 And still 'tis yours with secret, soft controul, 
 
 To hold a gentler empire o'er the soul; 
 
 In polish'd states to make, with sweet behest, 315 
 
 The hero happy and the patriot blest; 
 
 To charm their anxious hours with cheering smiles, 
 
 Relieve their suff'rings and reward their toils. 
 
 And are there men, with civil bliss at strife, 
 Who lavish wanton praise on savage life? S20 
 
 Is licence freedom ? Can the general good 
 Bid each barbarian quench revenge in blood? 
 While wrongs, ev'n fancied, set his soul on fire, 
 Can judgment cool unite with burning ire ? 
 Or numb'd in apathy, can that alone 325 
 
 Afford the fond endearments I have known ? 
 See the rude Indian, reason's dictates braves, 
 And treats the females as his abject slaves: 
 He, round his hearth, no circle calls, at ev'n, 
 To share the sweetest pleasures under heav'n. 330 
 
 Regard yon desert, dark and drear, where roam 
 Hordes who ne'er knew a comfortable home: 
 On them no peaceful arts their influence shed, 
 But fierce as panthers on the mountains bred, 
 They prowl for prey. For them the hunted wood 335 
 
 Now yields redundant, now penurious food 
 Regorg'd or famish'd oft a miscreant crew 
 If few their wants, their comforts still more few J 
 Ah ! when will virtue's evangelic flame 
 
 The frigid wildness of their tempers tame? 340 
 
 Till that bVight hour, no hope beyond the sky 
 Forlorn they live, and like the brute they die ! 
 
 Of savage life so spring the bitter fruits. 
 For savage indolence the man imbrutes. 
 
 P
 
 106 ON THE INDUSTRY OF THE 
 
 From industry the sinews strength acquire, 345 
 
 The limbs expand, the bosom feels new fire. 
 
 Unwearied industry pervades the whole, 
 
 Nor lends more force to body than to soul. 
 
 Hence character is form'd, and hence proceeds 
 
 Th' enlivening heat that fires to daring deeds: 350 
 
 Then animation bids the spirit warm, 
 
 Soar in the whirlwind and enjoy the storm. 
 
 For our brave tars what clime too warm, too cold, 
 
 What toil too hardy, or what task too bold ? 
 
 O'er storm-vex'd waves our vent'rous vessels roll, 355 
 
 Round artic isles or near th' antartic pole; 
 
 Nor fear their crews the fell tornado's ire, 
 
 Wrapp'd in a deluge of Caribbean fire. 
 
 The wonders of the deep they see, while tost 
 
 From earth's warm girdle to the climes of frost r 360 
 
 Full soon to bid the battle's thunder roar, 
 
 And guard with wooden walls their native shore. 
 
 What like rough effort fortifies each part, 
 With steel the limbs and adamant the heart ! 
 What gives our seamen steadiness of soul, 365 
 
 When bursting thunders rend the redd'ning pole, 
 When down the black'ning clouds, in streams that bend 
 Athwart the tall shrouds, livid fires descend, 
 When howling winds in wild gyrations fly, 
 And night sits frantic on the scowling sky? 370 
 
 What makes the patriot scorn the menac'd blow, 
 His courage rising as the dangers grow ! 
 What bade our bands to shield the commonweal 
 Bare their bold bosoms to the lifted steel ; 
 What time Virginia's light, with steady ray, 375 
 
 Led through the darksome gloom our desp'rate way; 
 When Britain, like a night-storm, hovering, huiTd 
 The red-wing'd vengeance on the western world ! 
 
 Lo I in that western world how chang'd the scene I 
 There peace now shines uncloudedly serene ; 380 
 
 While, red with gore, through Europe's realms afar. 
 Sails the dread storm of desolating war. 
 In Lusitania's clime, while we behold 
 The orange gleam with vegetating gold;
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. lo? 
 
 Where buds and fruits in gay confusion join, 385 
 
 And the glad vintage purples on the vine ; 
 
 Where sleeps on beds of rose the moon-light calm, 
 
 Honey'd the dew and steep'd the air in balm ! 
 
 Where wild-heath blooms perfume the passing gales, 
 
 And Tagus whitens with unnumber'd sails; 390 
 
 Say, shares my friend,* my fond desires that rise 
 
 For distant scenes beneath the western skies? 
 
 Say, canst thou love those scenes in lonely pride, 
 
 The beauteous shores that bound th' Atlantic tide ; 
 
 Where hills and vales, and villages and farms, 395 
 
 In lovely landscapes blend their mingled charms ? 
 
 Me, languid long, new ardour fires at length, 
 (With thee my soul collecting all her strength) 
 New raptures seize, with patriot pride elate, 
 To sing the charms that grace my native state. 400 
 
 Hail favour *d state I CONNECTICUT! thy name 
 Uncouth in song, too long conceal'd from fame ; 
 If yet thy filial bards the gloom can pierce, 
 Shall rise and flourish in immortal verse. 
 
 Inventive genius, imitative pow'rs, 4Q5 
 
 And, still more precious, common-sense, is ours; 
 While knowledge useful, more than science grand, 
 In rivulets still o'erspreads the smiling land. 
 
 Hail, model of free states ! too little known, 
 Too lightly priz'd for rural arts alone: 410 
 
 Yet hence from savage, social life began, 
 Compacts were fram'd and man grew mild to man. 
 Thee, Agriculture ! source of every joy, 
 Domestic sweets and bliss without alloy ; 
 
 Thee, friend of freedom, independence, worth, 415 
 
 What raptur'd song can set conspicuous forth ? 
 Thine every grateful gift, my native soil J 
 That ceaseless comes from agricultural toil; 
 This bids thee, dress'd, with added charms appear, 
 And crowns with glories, not its own, the year. 420 
 
 Though, capp'd with cliffs of flint, thy surface rude, 
 And stubborn glebe the slothful race exclude ; 
 Though sultry summer parch thy gaping plains, 
 Or chilling winter bind in icy chains; 
 
 * Atldresud to a lady in L'./uon.
 
 108 ON THE INDUSTRY OF THE 
 
 Thy patient sons, prepar'd for tasks sublime, 425 
 
 Redress the rigours of th' inclement clime, 
 Clothe arid earth in green, for glooms supply 
 The brightest beauties to th' astonish'd eye. 
 
 What though for us no fields Arcadian bloom, 
 Nor tropic shrubs diffuse a glad perfume ; 430 
 
 No fairy regions picturesque with flow'rs, 
 Elysian groves, or amaranthine bow'rs, 
 Breathe sweet enchantment but still fairer smile, 
 Once savage wilds now tam'd by tut'ring toil. 
 The rolling seasons saw with rapture strange, 435 
 
 The desert blossom and the climate change. 
 Roll on, thou sun ! and bring the prospect bright, 
 Before our ravish'd view in liveliest light. 
 Arise in vernal pride, ye virgin plains ! 
 
 With winning features which no fiction feigns. 440 
 
 Arise, ye laughing lawns 1 ye gladd'nlng glades ! 
 Poetic banks ! and philosophic shades ! 
 Awake, ye meads! your bosoms ope, ye flow'rs! 
 Exult, oh earth! and heav'n descend in show'rji! 
 
 Where the dun forest's thickest foliage frown'd, 445 
 
 And night and horror brooded o'er the ground; 
 While matted boughs impenetrably wove 
 The sable curtains of th' impervious grove ; 
 Where the swart savage fix'd his short abode, 
 Or wound through tangled wilds his thorny road ; 450 
 
 Where the gaunt wolves from crag-roof 'd caverns prowl'd, 
 And mountains echoed as the monsters howl'd; 
 Where putrid marshes felt no solar beams, 
 And mantling mire exhal'd mephitic steams; 
 See, mid the rocks, a Paradise arise, 455 
 
 That feels the fostering warmth of genial skies ! 
 While gurgling currents lull th' enchanted soil, 
 The hill-tops brighten and the dingles smile. 
 
 Then hail for us, ye transatlantic scenes, 
 
 Soul-soothing dwellings ! sight-refreshing greens ! 460 
 
 And chiefly hail, thou state ! where virtue reigns, 
 And peace and plenty crown the cultur'd plains. 
 
 Nor lacks there aught to soothe the pensive mind, 
 Its taste on nature form'd, by truth refin'd:
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 10 
 
 For pure simplicity can touch the heart, 465 
 
 Beyond the glitter and the gloss of art. 
 
 Not wanting there the fountain's bubbling tide, 
 
 Whence flows the narrow stream and river wide, 
 
 With gladsome wave to drench the thirsty dale, 
 
 Or waft through wond'ring woods the flitting sail. 470 
 
 Not wanting there the cottage white-wash'd clean, 
 
 Nor town with spires that glimmer o'er the green: 
 
 Ncr rich variety's uncloying charm, 
 
 The steeds that prance, the herds that graze the farm ; 
 
 The flocks that gambol o'er the dark-green hills, 475 
 
 The tumbling brooks that turn the busy mills ; 
 
 The clover pastures deck'd with dappled flow'rs, 
 
 Spontaneous; gardens gay with roseate bow'rs; 
 
 The tedded grass in meadows newly shorn, 
 
 The pensile wheat-heads and stiff Indian corn ; 480 
 
 The grafts with tempting fruit, and thick-leav'd groves, 
 
 Where timid birds conceal their airy loves: 
 
 Along th' umbrageous walk, enamour'd meet 
 
 The artless pairs, in courtship chaste as sweet, 
 
 In wedlock soon to join hail, sacred rite ! 485 
 
 Delicious spring! exhaustless of delight! 
 
 No poor, for wealth withheld, accuses heav'n, 
 
 Nor rich, insulting, spurns the bounties giv'n. 
 
 No wretched outcast happy, till beguil'd 
 
 Pollution's sister, and affliction's child ! 490 
 
 Shivering and darkling strays through wintry streets, 
 
 And lures (for bread) to brothels all she meets ; 
 
 Or tir'd and sick, with faint and fearful ciy, 
 
 At her betrayer's door lies down to die. 
 
 No scenes of woe the pleasing prospect blight, 495 
 
 And no disgusting object pains the sight; 
 
 For calm content, the sunshine of the soul, 
 
 With bright'ning ease, embellishes the whole. 
 
 Tis rural innocence, with rural toil, 
 
 Can change the froAvn of fortune to a smile. 500 
 
 Ah, let the sons of insolence deride 
 The simple joys by humble toil supplied: 
 Not him whose breast with fal.se refinement ]xmts, 
 Factitious pleasures, artificial wants. 
 
 Such scenes delight nor boasts that state a claim, 505 
 
 For man's or nature's grandest works, to fame.
 
 110 ON THE INDUSTRY OF THE 
 
 Of life sequester'd, fond and frequent theme! 
 Th' instructed few with higher reverence deem : 
 For o'er its moral part a lustre shines, 
 That all around enlivens and refines. 510 
 
 'Twas there the joys of wedded love began, 
 And health and happiness there dwelt with man : 
 The city's palaces though man has made, 
 The country's charming views a God display "d 
 Still the best site from art derives new charms, 515 
 
 In villas fair and ornamented farms. 
 
 There, while our freemen share thy blessings, health ! 
 In that blest mean dividing want from wealth ; 
 How sweet their food appears ! how lightsome seems 
 Their daily labour ! and how bright their dreams ! 520 
 
 Not inexpert to till or guard their farms, 
 Patient in toil, but terrible in arms, 
 When stung by wrong, and fir'd with patriot rage, 
 They in the battle's brunt with hosts engage ! 
 What Rome, once virtuous, saw, this gives us now 525 
 
 Heroes and statesmen, awful from the plough. 
 
 And ye, compatriots ! who for freedom fought, 
 Preserve that prize your toil and blood have bought, 
 (Fraternal troop long tried by storms of fate, 
 Surviving soldiers of my native state, 530 
 
 From me your cherish'd image ne'er shall part, 
 'Till death's cold hand shall wring it from my heart!) 
 Hcav'ns! how your fields were heap'd with kindred slain, 
 While many a stream ran crimson to the main ! 
 Where a new* Thames distain'd with carnage fiow'd, 535 
 
 How the sea redden'd to receive the load? 
 How Danb'ry's burning turrets dimm'd the day, 
 How Fairfield, Norwalk, dark in ashes lay ? 
 Ye tearless saw your coasts to deserts turn'd, 
 Your substance pillag'd, and your buildings buni'd; 540 
 
 Your flocks and herds become th' invaders' spoil, 
 And the fair harvest ravish'd from the soil. 
 Ye saw th' infuriate foe, with impious ire, 
 Consume Jehovah's hallow'd fanes in fire. 
 
 What Gothic rage assail'd the muses' seat,f 545 
 
 And hunted science in her lov'd retreat ? 
 
 * Ncw-LcnJon in Connecticut. 
 
 + Princeton and New-Haven Colleges;
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Ill 
 
 Her very porch* with vital purple stain 'd, 
 
 Her courts polluted and her shrine prophan'd ! 
 
 'Twas then th' obstrep'rous drum, th' ear-tinkling fife, 
 
 Pierc'd the still shades of academic life ; 550 
 
 There Tryon left on ruins, mark'd with flame, 
 
 A dread memorial of his hated name. 
 
 But, lo ! what present growth exceeds the past, 
 While population adds improvements vast ; 
 For population doubles still our force, 555 
 
 Ere thrice eight annual suns complete their course. 
 How teems the fresh mould with luxuriant green ! 
 There, not a vestige of the war is seen ; 
 And ev'n late blazing towns that blush'd with gore, 
 Smile brighter far and lovelier than before. 560 
 
 Not so for man will life's once faded spring, 
 Return more sweet and fairer blossoms bring. 
 No more will friendship's buried hopes return ! 
 Say, mem'ry ! mourning o'er each hero's urn, 
 Where now the dreams that cheer'd my youth in vain, 565 
 And where my youthful friends in battle slain ? 
 See, vernal blooms, as soon as born, decay, 
 And each wing'd moment bear some flow'r away ! 
 So fly the years that charm 'd in early life, 
 
 So fade the laurels won in martial strife. 570 
 
 Ye vanish 'd scenes! ye visionary toys! 
 Delusive hopes ! and transitory joys ! 
 Adieu! but, virtue! cheer our little lives, 
 For, from the wreck, religion still survives. 
 Religious zeal our ancestors that warm'd, -'STS 
 
 With passions cool'd, their temp'rate habits form'd: 
 Hence in that stale is seen (sight passing strange !) 
 Choice free and frequent, yet no lust of change. 
 The foreigner admires of bliss the cause, 
 
 In fair elections and the reign of laws ; 580 
 
 And joys to find on shores long waste and wild, 
 A race in manners undebauch'd, yet mild; 
 Between too rude and polish'd life, a stage 
 That claims new actors for a golden age. 
 
 * Mr. Beers, a respectable inhabitant of New-Haven, was killed when standing peaceably 
 at his own door, contiguous to Yale-College.
 
 312 ON THE INDUSTRY OF THE 
 
 Such sober habits industry prepares, 585 
 
 And order guarantees for freedom's heirs. 
 Say, in what state, so soon imbib'd the youth 
 Til' eternal principles of right and truth ? 
 Where education such instruction spread ? 
 
 Where on the mind such influence morals shed ? 590 
 
 Where modesty with charms so fair appear'd ? 
 So honour 'd age, and virtue so rever'd? 
 
 Thou fount of learning where I drank, thou Yale ! 
 Fount of religion and of knowledge, hail ! 
 
 There, happy parents ! bid our thirsting youth 595 
 
 Quaff copious immortality and truth ; 
 While Dwight, with soaring soul, directs their way 
 To the full well of life, in climes of endless day. 
 
 Rejoice in strength of youth ! rejoice, sweet band ! 
 To rise the hope and glory of our land. 600 
 
 First shall the legates in th' Almighty's name, 
 Like seers whose lips were touch'd with living flame, 
 Announce the WORD from HEAV'N sublime, refin'd, 
 And bring mild consolations to the mind ; 
 
 Of future being the glad tidings bear, 605 
 
 And God's high will with holy zeal declare ! 
 
 Ye champions, prompt to check the course of fate, 
 And give man's days their longest, healthiest date ; 
 Go forth, the sick-man's sleepy couch to smooth, 
 With potent drugs the pang of anguish soothe; 610 
 
 The dart of death avert his victim save 
 And rescue thousands from th' untimely grave! 
 For this, from natm-e's mixture, chemic art 
 Extracts the healing from the pois'nous part. 
 And where our woods contain salubrious pow'rs, 615 
 
 In life -prolonging roots, and barks, and flow'rs ; 
 Ye botanists ! with sapient toil explore 
 Our continent's interminable store, 
 A boundless field ! ne'er view'd by human eye, 
 Where vegetation lives alone to die. 620 
 
 There search the sylvan world with eager view, 
 And call by name each plant that sips the dew ; 
 From the proud pine, his lofty head who shrouds 
 la misty regions mid condensing clouds,
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 113 
 
 To tufted shrubs and gadding vines that crawl, 625 
 
 Or humble hyssop springing by the wall. 
 
 Ye advocates for justice thence proceed, 
 With pow'rful voice for innocence to plead; 
 Not warp'd by favour, flatt'ry, gold or awe, 
 The firm support and ornament of law ! 630 
 
 Hence oft elect from your enlighten'd band, 
 Judges and senators shall rule the land. 
 
 With fancy vivid as with judgment strong, 
 Our pride in genius, as our first in song, 
 
 Thy intellectual stores, blest Dwight ! impart, 635 
 
 And taste correct for every finer art: 
 Bid wisdom's higher lore with ethics giv'n, 
 For greatness form the race, belov'd of heav'n : 
 Bring to their breasts her energies divine, 
 The grovelling thought to raise, the gross refine ! 640 
 
 Bid bards melodious charm the listening throng, 
 Thrill'd with the raptures of ecstatic song; 
 Bid, while the spark of animation warms, 
 Imagination body finest forms ; 
 
 Creative artists paint our martial strife, 645 
 
 And wake the slumb'ring marble into life ! 
 
 Or should the hollow brass be heard to roarfy 
 And hostile navies hover round our shore, 
 Then bid our youth along th' extended coast, 
 Their country's bulwark, and their country's boast, 650 
 
 Horrent in arms, an iron rampart stand, 
 To shield from foes th* inviolable land! 
 
 Ere ye begin to tread life's wider stage, 
 In manhood's prime, dear, interesting age ! 
 Attend a time-taught bard, to toils inur'd, 655 
 
 With those bold chiefs whose blood your rights secur'd: 
 Ye junior patriots, listen ! learn, my friends I 
 How much your lot on industry depends: 
 For God, a God of order, ne'er design'd 
 
 Equal conditions for the human kind. 660 
 
 Equality of rights your bliss maintains, 
 While law protects what honest labour gains. 
 Your great exertions by restraint uncheck'd, 
 Your gen'rous heat undamp'd by cold neglect; 
 
 Q 

 
 114 ON THE INDUSTRY, &c. 
 
 The wide career for freemen open lies, 665 
 
 Where wealth, and pow'r, and honour yield the prize. 
 
 Yet should dark discord's clouds your land o'ercast, 
 
 Lost is your freedom and your empire past. 
 
 Be union yours I To guard your union, heav'n 
 
 The general government, in trust, has giv'n:' 670 
 
 Then, when ere long your fathers sleep in dust, 
 
 Preserve, like vestal fire, that sacred TRUST!
 
 A 
 
 POEM 
 
 r 
 
 ON THE 
 
 LOVE OF COUNTRY. 
 
 IN CELEBRATION OF THE 
 
 TWENTY-THIRD ANNIVERSARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 IND EPE ND E NCE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNITED STATES 
 
 OF 
 
 AMERICA.
 
 TO HIS MAJESTY 
 
 LOUIS, 
 
 KING OF ETRURIA, HEREDITARY PRINCE OF 
 PARMA, INFAJVT OF SPAIN, &c. &c. bV. 
 
 SIRE, 
 
 J AVAIL myself of the opportunity of a ship sailing from New- 
 York for Leghorn, to transmit my thanks for the flattering man 
 ner in which your Majesty has communicated to me, in your letter, 
 dated at Florence, the 15th of February last, how much you 
 should be gratified by receiving the dedication of my poem " on 
 the Love of Country." For presenting that work on a subject, 
 by which all nations are affected, although as here treated, it is 
 particularly applicable to my countrymen, I did not apologize. 
 Sentiments of true policy, and principles of pure morality, ought 
 to be equally acceptable in all regions of the earth, and with all 
 descriptions of its inhabitants. Or if any difference is to be al 
 lowed, I will be bold to assert, such sentiments and principles 
 claim the peculiar protection of Avell informed and beneficent po 
 tentates, because peculiarly great are their faculties for doing 
 good, and extensive their spheres of action. 
 
 Your modesty, Sire, must permit me to say, that your patron 
 age of those fine arts and elegant letters which have rendered the 
 names of the former chief magistrates at Florence for ever famous, 
 would afford the most ample theme for eulogium on this occasion ; 
 and the interest which your Majesty so kindly takes in my wel 
 fare, removed, as I am, at such an immense distance from your 
 royal residence, could not fail to furnish increasing motives for 
 indulging my inclination to celebrate the splendid and amiable qua 
 lities which so eminently unite in your character as a monarch 
 and a man. But a fear of trespassing on the more precious dis 
 tribution of your time, confines me simply to professing my sen 
 sibility of your favours, and offering my prayers for the felicity of 
 your august person and family. May yours and theirs be the 
 continued blessings of that Being " by whom kings reign and 
 princes decree justice!"
 
 118 DEDICATION. 
 
 While I thus make an effort to convey the proofs of my grate 
 ful feelings, by a vehicle so frail as this paper, across the vast 
 Atlantic Ocean, from the lately obscure nursery of infant improve 
 ments in the new world, to the long celebrated* cradle of reviv 
 ing literature in the old, deign, oh King 1 to accept them as the 
 pledges of the perfect respect, entire devotion, and, if I might 
 be permitted a reciprocal expression, " the sentiments of sincere 
 attachment," with which 
 
 I have the honour to be, 
 Your Majesty's most obedient, 
 And most humble servant, 
 
 D. HUMPHREYS. 
 New-Haven, December 1, 1802. 
 
 * The learned reader will readily recollect trie circumstances which render this expression 
 tingularly appropriate to Florence. Others must be referred to the histories of the revival of 
 arts and letters in Europe.
 
 Stnte the death of the amiable and enlightened sovereign to whom 
 this poem was addressed, it is deemed not improper to annex 
 the following- letter, copied from the original in his own hand 
 writing^ to the author* 
 
 A Florence^ ce 15 Fevrier, 1802. 
 
 MONSIEUR, 
 
 -A.YANT eu le plaisir de recevoir v6tre lettre de 
 conge de Madrid du 15 de Janvier, je profite de cette occasion, 
 pouv vous en temoigner ma reconnaissance, ainsi que celle de ma 
 femme, qui m" en charge avec bien de 1'exactitude. Les felicita 
 tions que vous nous offrez sur les heureux evenements qui nous ont 
 signale 1'annee derniere, ne peuvent pas certainement manquer 
 de nous etre vraiment agreables ; et bien surs que vous voeux se- 
 ront toujours les memes pour nous, et que vous ne nous oublierez 
 jamais. 
 
 Vous connaissez trop mon attachement pour toutes les produc 
 tions litteraires, pour ne pas voir quel plaisir j'aurai a accepter 
 la dedication de votre poeme sur Pamour de la Patrie; je vous 
 prie done de vouloir bien me faire ce plaisir, et ne jamais douter 
 de la sincere reconnaissance que je vous en conserverai. 
 
 Je vous desire en Amerique tous les bonheurs, et feltcites possi 
 bles, et que vous puissiez souhaiter; et je vous prie aussi de dire 
 bien de choses a votre femme, de ma part. J'espere que cette 
 lettre vous trouvera deja en Amerique, et que vous aurez deja 
 fini le voyage de mer, qui ne laisse pas d'etre long, et dangereux. 
 Malgre cela, ce serait une bien grande satisfaction pour moi, si 
 je pouvais un jour, voir ces beaux pays de 1'Amerique, mais je 
 crains bien de n'avoir jamais ce plaisir. En attendant je vous 
 prie de me conserver toujours votre amitie et attachement; 
 n'oublie"z jamais mon pauvre cabinet d'histoire naturelle, quand la 
 nature offrira quelque chose de particulier ; et soyez bien persuade 
 des sentiments de vrai, et sincere attachement avec lequel je suis, 
 et serai toujours, 
 
 Monsieur, 
 Votre tres affne. ami, 
 
 LOUTS. 
 
 TRANSLATION. 
 
 SIR, Florence, 15th February, 1802. 
 
 Having had the pleasure to receive your farewell 
 letter from Madrid, of the 15th of January, I profit of this occa-
 
 120 LETTER. 
 
 sion to testify my gratitude, as well as that of my wife, who gives 
 me very particularly that commission. The congratulations which 
 you offer us on the happy events which have marked for us the 
 last year, cannot certainly fail to be truly agreeable, being sure 
 that your good wishes will always be the same for us, and that 
 you will never forget us. 
 
 You know too well my fondness for all literary productions, 
 not to perceive what pleasure I shall have in accepting the Dedi 
 cation of your poem on the Love of Country: I pray you then to 
 be pleased to afford me that gratification, and never to doubt the 
 sincere thankfulness which I shall always preserve. 
 
 I desire for you in America all the prosperities and felicities 
 possible, and which you can wish ; and I entreat you to say a great 
 many things to your wife on my part. I hope this letter will find 
 you in America, and that you will already have finished the sea- 
 voyage, which cannot but be long and dangerous. Notwithstand 
 ing that, it would be a great satisfaction if I could, one day, see 
 those fine regions of America; but I fear much I shall never 
 have that pleasure. In the mean time I pray you to retain for 
 me for ever your friendship and attachment ; never forget my poor 
 cabinet of natural history when nature shall present any thing 
 extraordinary ; and be fully persuaded of the sentiments of true 
 and sincere attachment, with which I am, and shall ever be, 
 Sir, 
 
 Your most affectionate friend, 
 
 LOUIS.
 
 ORIGINAL PREFACE 
 
 On the first Publication of the two following POEMS, 'which lifer f 
 written when the Author was Minister in Spain. 
 
 OHOULD more defects or imperfections of style be discerned* 
 in such poems of this collection as have never before been printed, 
 than were expected, the writer may be permitted to allege his 
 long absence from his country in mitigation of the severity of ani 
 madversion. Since the summer after our revolutionary war was. 
 ended (the time of liis first leaving this land of his nativity) be 
 has remained abroad, w ; th some intermissions, nearly fom'teen 
 years. During the greater part of that period, and particularly 
 for more than eleven of the last years, he has heard very little of 
 his native language spoken, either in his own family, or the socie 
 ties which he frequented. Almost the whole of his longest pro. 
 ductions in verse were composed in Europe. The poems " on the- 
 Happiness of America," and " the Future Glory of the United 
 States," were written principally in Paris and London; that " on 
 our Industry" in Lisbon; and those " on the Love of Country," 
 and " the Death of General Washington/' in Madrid. 
 
 In conformity to the plan which has been prosecuted in the pre 
 ceding sheets, it is hoped that the systematic intention of suggest 
 ing means for securing the blessings of our revolution, and en 
 larging the limits of our felicity, will be discovered in the two 
 subsequent poems ; the one containing a dissertation on y and the 
 other an exemplification of, real Patriotism. 
 
 While the author resided in Spain, in the course of the late 
 European war, he was too incessantly* engaged in protecting or 
 reclaiming the ships and cargoes of his fellow citizens concerned 
 in navigation and commerce, to have much leisure for belles let- 
 
 * The writer, during the first absence from his country, as Minister, addressed to the De 
 partment of State 150 dispatches; and during his second absence 300. While residing in a 
 diplomatic character at Madrid, he passed 394 offices to the first Ministers of State of hto 
 Catholic Majesty, and 25 to the Ministers of Finance, He was honoured with 311 answers, 
 or communications, from the former, and 17 from the latter. In addition to which he wai en- 
 %aed in torn* correspondence with the other Ministers of State and the high tribunals, 
 
 R
 
 122 ORIGINAL PREFACE. 
 
 tres. Few fields can be more thorny than that of remonstrance 
 and reclamation. There the seeds of genius could little more 
 than vegetate. Even plants transferred from the most fertile se 
 minaries could find nothing congenial to foster their growth. No 
 blossoms of wit could flourish amidst the sterilky of official notes. 
 In effect, the dryness of the diplomatic soil, absorbing the nutrition 
 from the flowers of imagination, might well be supposed unfavour 
 able to poetical productions. The interruption of intercourse 
 with other countries prevented emulation from being excited by 
 new publications and learned travellers. The pursuit of elegant 
 literature was thus interrupted. Yet some species of relaxation 
 from business was necessary. Notwithstanding these discourage 
 ments, pcetry appeared the most eligible to the writer. He in 
 dulged feeling possibly more than he consulted discretion. But if 
 he wrote rather carelessly to please himself in the first instance, 
 when he contemplated consigning his writings to the press, he 
 would not treat his readers with so little consideration as not to 
 attempt to gratify them, by giving his performances all the cor 
 rectness in his power. It is not mean* to be insinuated that the 
 literary appetite has been so pampered, as to become depraved or 
 fastidious. But at a time when, in the British dominions and the 
 United States, every poet who aspires to celebrity, strives to ap 
 proach the perfection of Pope in the sweetness of his versification, 
 it is conceived the public taste is too mnch accustomed to be re 
 galed with such delicacies, to relish any fioetical entertainment 
 which is totally destitute of them. How far the choice and ar 
 rangement of materials for the entertainment now provided, be 
 indicative of true or false taste, must be left to that of critics to 
 determine, 
 
 Whether a poet Composes from enthusiasm or Avith meditation, 
 the art of animating and keeping alive the curiosity of his rea 
 ders is certainly least of all to be neglected. Nothing can com 
 pensate for the want, for without it his works will not be read. 
 To create an interest, is to command attention. To make de 
 scriptions or reflections not merely entertaining, but even intelligi 
 ble, perspicuity is indispensably requisite. But without distinct 
 perceptions, clear ideas could not exist for communication. We 
 cannot give to others that which we have not ourselves. Without 
 luminous comprehension, and lucid order, what can be expected 
 but obscurity and confusion? Without spirit and intelligence, 
 what but apathy and tediousness ? He who feels not his subject 
 strongly, can never rouse the sensibility of his readers. The 
 writer has endeavoured to prevent his mental images, whatever 
 they were, from being distorted by abstract phraseology, or dis-
 
 ORIGINAL PREFACE. 1?3 
 
 guised by foreign idiom. In attempting to make the clearness of 
 his style in a degree the mirror of his mind, he was solicitous to 
 shun turgid diction, brilliant antithesis, unnatural conceits, af 
 fected figures, forced epithets, and, in general, all factitious or 
 nament. Nor was he less anxious to avoid mistaking and admit 
 ting vulgarity for simplicity. He wished not to degrade the won 
 derful and glorious, though ordinary and regular displays of Crea 
 tion and Providence, in the natural and moral world, by handling 
 the subjects with too much familiarity. He believed that the use 
 of the most proper words, in their proper places, without the 
 intervention of the undefinable mens divinior, could not constitute 
 the higher species of poesy. Pleased with the charms of novelty, 
 and delighted with whatever is elevated, beautiful, elegant, lovely, 
 and excellent in the works of the ancients and moderns, he should 
 be happy to be found, in his own, to have aimed at originality 
 without rashness, and imitation without servility. 
 
 The same diffidence of the writer in hazarding an opinion on 
 his own productions, and confidence in the candour of his rea 
 ders, which induce him to offer his hitherto unpublished poems 
 "with these remarks and explanations, preclude him from presum 
 ing to anticipate their judgment. An avowal of his objects and 
 motives, as developed in the history of his compositions, will, 
 perhaps, serve to diminish the rigour and annihilate the aspe T 
 rity of criticism. 
 
 D. HUMPHREYS, 
 
 City of Washington, in the Territory of Columbia, 
 January 4th, 1803
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 TO THE 
 
 PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 _L O make use of poetry for strengthening patriotism, promot 
 ing virtue, and extending happiness, is to bring it back to its 
 primitive exalted employments. The author of the poem on the 
 Love of Country will not suppress his predilection for consecrat 
 ing to such pursuits whatever poetical talents he may possess. 
 With this view, he imagines he cannot select a more pertinent 
 occasion, or a more suitable subject, than to celebrate the anniver. 
 sary of the independence of his country, by inculcating senti 
 ments of patriotism not inconsistent with our obligations of bene 
 volence to the rest of mankind. He considers it of much import 
 ance to the promotion of human felicity, that the line which se 
 parates true from false patriotism should be accurately marked. 
 
 In almost every nation and age, savage or civilized, remark 
 able military exploits, and signal national deliverances, have been 
 celebrated with songs of exultation and gratitude. The sublime 
 and pathetic effusions of Moses, Deborah, and David, as well as 
 the patriotic and heroic poems of the Greek and Latin writers; 
 the monotonous notes or wild warblings of the bards in several 
 countries where civilization had made but little progress; and the 
 rude war songs, or mournful elegies of the aborigines of America, 
 are proofs of this assertion. 
 
 What festival, ancient or modern, has been observed more ge 
 nerally or more cordially, than that of the birth of our nation, 
 on the fourth day of July ? This unanimity was produced, not by the 
 peremptory commands or fulsome recommendations of a direc 
 torial government, but by the concurrent feelings of a free people. 
 What event ought to be more deeply impressed on the public me 
 mory ? What day can give a more instructive lesson ? Or what 
 occasion can be better calculated than this spontaneous solemnity, 
 to inspire Americans with that love of country and force of union, 
 by which alone the liberty and independence of the nation can 
 be long maintained?
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 125 
 
 It is pleasant to reflect, that on the same day, in all parts of 
 the world where a few An :r : cans are assembled, they are in the 
 habit of rejoicing together w., .h decent hilarity, and of cherishing 
 those social sentiments which were so feelingly participated in 
 their common toils, sufferings and dangers. At home or abroad, 
 what breast is not then as it were electrified by sympathetic re 
 collections ? Where is the cold-blooded wretch to be found, who 
 disgraces the American name (if he be a native of that conti 
 nent), by not feeling the sacred flame of patriotism kindling with 
 redoubled ardour, from the mingled remembrance and emotion 
 which this festival forces on his mind? 
 
 The author, in thus paying his tribute to the day, flatters him 
 self he shall not be reproached for having sacrificed any interest, 
 neglected any duty, or betrayed any trust. For he takes a be 
 coming pride in asserting, that, in indulging his taste for poetry, 
 he has never suspended his attention to the public service; and 
 that no letter or application on business which ever came to him 
 from any of his countrymen, in any quarter of the globe (and 
 they have been extremely numerous), has ever been neglected at 
 the moment, or remained unanswered longer than was inevitably 
 necessary. In whatever point of light his poetical dispositions or 
 literary acquirements may be considered, he is not a little desirous 
 of preserving the reputation of an honest man, who has never 
 ceased to act in every office he has filled, with diligence, zeal, 
 and fidelity. He has ever taught by precept, and he hopes he 
 has not counteracted the doctrine by example, that there can be 
 no happiness without virtue, no liberty without morality, and no 
 good public character without being at the same time a good pri 
 vate character. With the profession of such principles, accom- 
 panied by the most earnest wishes for their political and indivi 
 dual prosperity, he commits this work to the indulgence of his 
 countrymen. 
 
 D. HUMPHREYS. 
 
 Madrid-, July 4tA, 1799.
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 JLovc of country, the subject proposed prevalence of it, even 
 in (he most unfavourable climates and dangerous circum 
 stances reasons tvhy the citizens of the United States ought, 
 to be particularly influenced by it patriotism not incompatible 
 with philanthropy address to the Deity to be enabled to cele 
 brate worthily that love by which the world was made for man , 
 creation man- his dignity inferred from his strange and com 
 plicated, but elevated nature immortality of the soul sympa 
 thy affected sensibility 'false philosophy existence of a Su 
 preme Being demonstrable from his works superiority of 
 nature to art, and of man to all the other mundane works of 
 God -from the nobleness of his qualities and conceptions, man 
 ought to despise pseudo-patriotism conquerors good sove 
 reigns every species of tyrannical government to be avoided 
 union recommended as necessary to preserve our liberty our 
 peculiar advantages for maintaining our independence exe 
 cration of discord and ambition firmness of our government 
 determination of citizens of all ages and descriptions to repel 
 invasion, or perish in the attempt motives to animate the rising 
 generation deduced from our struggle for independence a 
 review of its origin the patriotic manner in which the Ameri 
 can people were affected at the commencement of our revolu 
 tion arrival of the British and foreign troops their chiefs 
 preparations to resist the foe eulogium of the principal offi 
 cers of the American army happy termination of the war; 
 the revision of these interesting scenes excites an ardent de 
 sire in the author to revisit his native country indescribqblc 
 sensations produced by love of country concluding wish.
 
 A POEM 
 
 LOVE OF COUNTRY, 
 
 JL O INDEPENDENCE consecrate, this day 
 Demands the tribute of my annual lay ; 
 Protector of that gift of God Supreme, 
 Thou, Love of Country,' be this day my theme. 
 
 Hail sacred Love of Country ! mystic tie ! 3 
 
 That binds us to our native soil and sky ! 
 Indissolubly binds through each extreme 
 Of noxious climes. The native braves the beam 
 Where darts the crimson sun, with downward ray, 
 O'er tropic isles, insufferable day. 10 
 
 Beneath cold Zembla's clouds, the last of men 
 Pent with his wife and children in his den, 
 Six wintry months, while hail and thunder pour 
 O'er rocks of ice, the elemental roar, 
 
 While sweeping tempests ride night's raven wings, 15 
 
 Still to his frozen cave more closely clings. 
 Nor where dire earthquakes sleep by Lisbon's rock, 
 Thy sons, oh Tagus ! who once felt the shock, 
 Fly ere again the sleeping vengeance wake, 
 And low in dust the rebuilt* city shake. 2 
 
 Nor yet Vesuvio's brow, with cinders bright, 
 Pouring red lavas through the noon of night, 
 Can make the peasant from his home retire, 
 And shun betimes the falling flood of fire. 
 
 * Although the author had his residence for several years in Lisbon, it was on that higk 
 part of the city called Buenos Ayres, where no damage has ever been done by earthquakes. 
 Near the river Tagus, the buildings which have more than once been destroyed, may pro- 
 babiy hereafter experience a similar fate.
 
 128 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 
 
 Will ye in love of country be surpast? 25 
 
 For you the lot in pleasant places cast, 
 No common share of happiness affords 
 Your rights asserted by your conqu'ring swords, 
 A government of your own choice possest, 
 With morals (surest pledge of freedom) blest ; 30 
 
 Columbians ! show ye love your favour'd lot, 
 By strong attachment to your natal spot. 
 
 Still Love of Country, on no narrow plan, 
 Exists consistent with the love of man. 
 
 In little circles love begins, not ends, 35 
 
 With parents, brothers, kindred, neighbours, friends: 
 As wave on wave, on circles circle press, 
 Our nation next we love, nor nature less : 
 Though still Columbia best of parent names ! 
 The dearest proofs of filial fondness claims ; 40 
 
 Man's general good this pref 'rence not impedes, 
 Nor checks the soul from philanthropic deeds. 
 
 Illume my subject ! tune my voice to sing 1 
 Oh, thou who rid'st upon the whirlwind's wing, 
 (Majestic darkness!) or, in glory's beam, 4o 
 
 Dwell'st inapproachable with light supreme ! 
 If sweet philanthropy employs my care, 
 Hear, thou I on high th' undissipated pray'r ! 
 Inspire my tongue to sing the wond'rous plan, 
 A world created for thy image, man. 50 
 
 Through realms of darkness, dreary, unenjoy'd, 
 Where anarchy and uproar rul'd the void, 
 Forth went th' eternal word, and far was driv'n 
 Primeval night before the pow'r of heaven 
 What time he bade th' abyss with light rejoice, 55 
 
 Confusion fled and chaos heard his voice: 
 Th* Almighty fiat mark'd the spacious round, 
 Concent'ring land and water learn 'd their bound; 
 This ball emergent from th' oblivious flood, 
 The great Creator saw and call'd it good. 60' 
 
 Celestial beings view'd with vast delight, 
 A new-born star rise twinkling on their sight, 
 And as 'mid worlds of light the wonder hung. 
 Each sister orb with unknown music rung.
 
 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 129 
 
 For whom was earth's stupendous fabric made? 65 
 
 For whom such pomp ineffable display 'd? 
 What made the rolling spheres with music ring, 
 And sons of God symphonious concerts sing? 
 'Twas man's inexplicable, doubtful form, 
 
 Sprung from non-entity a God a worm 70 
 
 The high-born spirit, native pure of day 
 The body gross, but animated clay 
 With parts so pure, so gross enigma strange ! 
 Alive, though dead the same, though seen to change 
 'Twas God's last work that fir'd angelic quires, 75 
 
 Gave worlds to space and themes to heav'nly lyres. 
 
 What though to death a prey, this earthy crust 
 Dissolves and moulders with its mother dust ; 
 Th' inserted part a graff divine appears, 
 
 From heav'n translated to this vale of tears 80 
 
 Not long in alien air to waste its bloom, 
 Nor shall the grave the falling shoot inhume; 
 More beauteous rising from the deathful strife, 
 Immortal offspring of the tree of life ! 
 
 Thou child of heav'n and earth ! a stream divine 85. 
 
 From the first fountain feeds your veins and mine. 
 Oh man, my brother ! how, by blood allied, 
 Swells in my breast the sympathetic tide ? 
 Shall I not wish thee well, not work thy good, 
 Deaf to th' endearing cries of kindred blood? 90 
 
 What! shall my soul, involv'd in matter dense, 
 (Obdur'd this bosom and benum'd each sense), 
 Lose, grateful sympathy \ thy genial ray, 
 Quench'd in the dampness of this crust of clay? 
 No, give me, heav'n ! affections quick, refin'd, 95 
 
 The keen emotions that entrance the mind 
 What youthful bards, what ardent heroes feel, 
 The lover's rapture and the patriot's zeal ; 
 The zeal that aims humanity to bless, 
 Oh, let me feel, and, what I feel, express I 100 
 
 With feelings not less strong than others born, 
 Affected sensibility I scorn. 
 Nor finds my breast benevolence or joy, 
 By generalising feeling, to destroy. 
 
 S
 
 130 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 
 
 I hate that new philosophy's strange plan, 105 
 
 That teaches love for all things more than man; 
 
 To love all mortals save our friends alone, 
 
 To hold all countries dearer than our own ; 
 
 To take no int'rest in the present age, 
 
 Rapt to th' unborn with philanthropic rage; 110 
 
 To make the tutor'd eyes with tears o'ei-flow, 
 
 More for fictitious than for real woe C 
 
 Then let my breast more pure sensations prove, 
 
 And on just objects fix appropriate love : 
 
 First on that God whose wond'rous works I scan, 115 
 
 Next on the noblest of his creatures, man. 
 
 A God, the soul of Being, still the same, 
 
 Through everlasting days, his deeds proclaim : 
 
 Whose arm created where no eye can pierce, 
 
 Systems on systems through the universe ? 120 
 
 And who propell'd their orbs? in motion keeps? 
 
 Say, Atheist! say whose eye-lid never sleeps? 
 
 Whose breath's existence ? Omnipresence, space ? 
 
 And who sustains thy life, blasphemer of his grace? 
 
 Say, live there mortals form'd with organs such, 125 
 
 They nature prize too little, art too much? 
 I love th' immortal marble's breathing form, 
 With life instinct, with animation warm ; 
 Where pictur'd canvass glows with living dyes, 
 Charm 'd, I behold a new creation rise: 130 
 
 Nor less I love of human skill the pride, 
 The tall bark bounding on the billowy tide: 
 Or art's consummate task, the city grac'd 
 With Grecian columns or with Tuscan taste. 
 If such delight art's curious works afford, 135 
 
 Shall I not rather love creation's Lord? 
 To me, oh nature ! all thy music bring, 
 O'er all heav'n's other works of man to sing. 
 
 Thy varied voice in every breeze I hear, 
 
 Delightful nature I mingling in my ear. 140 
 
 Though sweet the sound of zephyr's whispering breath, 
 And leaves that rustle o'er the furzy heath ; 
 Though sweet the babbling brook, the patt'ring show'r, 
 And echo mocking from the neighb'riag tow'r;
 
 Otf THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 131 
 
 What time the mimic prattles half-form'd words, 145 
 
 And sweet at morn or eve the charm of birds: 
 
 The song of nature's bard more transport yields 
 
 Than all the chorus of the warbling fields ; 
 
 His soothing accent soft as dews of heav'n, 
 
 That slake the feverish flow'ret's thirst at ev'n. 150 
 
 Inspir'd, in meditation's sober hour, 
 I trace through all his works th' Almighty pow'r, 
 Whose ceaseless bounties round the seasons roll, 
 Till gratitude and gladness fill my soul. 
 
 While nature charms with annual changes bland, 155 
 
 I love the novel, beautiful and grand. 
 I love the children of parturient spring, 
 The plants that blossom, and the birds that sing; 
 When near my noon-tide bow'r, the genial gale 
 With life and love re-animates each vale. 160 
 
 I love the landscape fair with cultur'd farms, 
 When ruddy summer spreads his roseate charms ; 
 When day's last glimm'rings fade along the skies, 
 Pleas'd I observe the paly crescent rise, 
 
 What time eve's gauzy veil the day-glare dims, 165 
 
 And vap'ry twilight o'er th' horizon swims. 
 With joy I view the morning mists appear, 
 When autumn's sceptre rules the ripen 'd year; 
 Lo, where the reaper gathers Ceres' gifts, 
 And from the fields their yellow burden lifts ! 170 
 
 Around, what prospects cheer the ravish 'd eye? 
 Above, what glowing colours gild the sky? 
 Then oft the clouds from heav'n 's bright loom unroll'd, 
 Display their silvery tissue wrought with gold, 
 Whose skirts transparent arrowy lustres tinge, 175 
 
 And lavish rainbows round th' ethereal fringe. 
 My soul exults to soar from earth at night, 
 When wintry skies ai-e wrapp'd in boreal light; 
 When sanguine meteors streak with dismal stains 
 The lurid air, and shoot athwart the plains ; 180 
 
 Or when each star is muffled, and a robe, 
 Dark as the pall of death, invests the globe ; 
 While loud the whirlwind round the forest raves, 
 And rocks reverberate the 1'oar of waves ; 
 Or lessening surges leave the craggy shore, 185 
 
 As the tir'd tempest half forgets to roar.
 
 133 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY* 
 
 On dark-red clouds, when storms electric ride, 
 
 And fire with frequent flash the mountain's side ; 
 
 I love to hear the distant thunders roll, 
 
 That swell to dread sublimity the soul. 190 
 
 Though nature charm through all her varying formSj 
 
 And God be seen in sunshine as in storms ; 
 
 Yet man a more congenial love inspires, 
 
 Wakes better transports and sublimer fires ; 
 
 He, form'd for higher schemes, conceptions vast, 195 
 
 Surveys the future, and reviews the past, 
 
 And sees o'er scanty bounds of space and time., 
 
 Bosom'd in bliss his native home sublime. 
 
 Shall we to whom this loftier lot is giv'n, 
 
 With elevated eye to look on heav'n, 20Q 
 
 Not look contemptuous down on meaner things, 
 The pomp of conquest and the pride of kings ! 
 Nor stung by mad ambition, count the cost 
 Of solid good in empty titles lost ! 
 
 Perish the Roman pride a world that braves, 205 
 
 To make for one free state all nations slaves ; 
 Their boasted patriotism at once exprest, 
 Love for themselves and hate for all the rest 1 
 Can love, whose liberal pow'rs enlarge the mind, 
 By local plans thus basely be confin'd? 210 
 
 Then be such narrow policy accurst, 
 Of insults keenest as of wrongs the worst ! 
 
 Live there whose minds, perverted, pleasure find 
 In forging fetters for subdu'd mankind ! 
 
 From conquest think to gain a glorious name, 215 
 
 And raise on human wretchedness their fame! 
 'Tis time to call such monsters from their crimes, 
 Scourges of heav'n, and tyrants for their times. 
 My soul abhors injustice and shall wrong 
 Escape the sting of my vindictive song? 220 
 
 Enrag'd, shall I capitulations make 
 With vaunting conqu'rors, for false pity's sake? 
 Men must I see, whom slaves as gods adore, 
 Wreath their proud brows with laurels dipt in gore? 
 Soon shall their laurels, pluck'd by force unjust, 225 
 
 Fall immature and wither in the dust.
 
 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY, 133 
 
 Nor less, if justice rules this universe, 
 Though prosp'rous still, shall pangs the tyrant pierce. 
 Behold the wretch to torment doom'd ere dead! 
 What nightly visions haunt his troubled bed ? 230 
 
 Him pomp nor pleasure lulls, or riots din, 
 While conscience holds a holy court within : 
 Vain all that charm'd before, triumphal cars, 
 The wrecks of nations and the spoils of wars. 
 Mantled in blood, what spectres pale appear ! 235 
 
 What moans and cries assail his startled ear ! 
 Then at still midnight's hour, his murd'rous mind 
 To reason-racking agonies consign'd, 
 Shrinks as the shadowy shapes terrific rise- 
 Shivers his flesh, his hair stands stiff, his eyes 240 
 With frenzy staring from their sockets start, 
 While gnaws th' undying worm his anguish'd heart. 
 
 Is it for this, thy thirst for taxes drains 
 The sweat and tears that fertilize the plains? 
 Is it for this, vain pageant of an hour! 245 
 
 Thou mak'st the nations groan beneath thy pow'r? 
 Torn from their friends, to war thy vassals fly, 
 Live for thy pastime, at thy mandate die ? 
 But say, insensate ! when thy wheels no more 
 Shall roll in carnage or be clogg'd with gore, 250 
 
 Say, what the meed, when (all thy triumphs past) 
 Thou sink'st in black oblivion's gulf at last? 
 So that broad stream that sweeps unbounded plains, 
 Great Mississippi, wastes the wide domains, 
 When sudden swoln with congregated rills, 255 
 
 That rush and thunder from a thousand hills, 
 He hastes resistless to his ocean-grave, 
 The sire of rivers ! * -now a nameless wave ! 
 
 Yet rais'd to thrones by merit, chance or birth, 
 At times, have righteous monarchs rul'd on earth; 260 
 
 Guides of their age, and guardians of their realm, 
 Whose names oblivion's wave shall ne'er o'erwhelm. . 
 
 But when fell ign'rance wraps the world in shade, 
 Thy plagues, oh Despotism ! each land pervade. 
 
 * The Mississippi a called the father of rivrrs by the native*.
 
 134 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 
 
 Or if a transient gleam through some extends, 265 
 
 How freedom trembles at pretended friends ! 
 
 While demagogues, to gain a boundless sway, 
 
 The people flatter first, and next betray ; 
 
 With false professions real slavery bring, 
 
 The guileful regents of the people-king I J70 
 
 Rise then, ye patriots tried ! who wear no mask, 
 
 Decline no danger, and refuse no task, 
 
 To save th' endanger'd state unveil their guile ! 
 
 Man's rights and obligations reconcile I 
 
 The demon-fury of the mob restrain, 375 
 
 And bind licentiousness in law's strong chain ! 
 
 Though dire the desolation conqu'rors cause, 
 When death behind them opes insatiate jaws; 
 Though great the plagues, though horrible the curse 
 Of despotism ! still anarchy is worse 280 
 
 Undup'd by popular names, shall we not shun 
 The tyranny of MANY as of ONE? 
 
 Tell, ye who FREEDOM sought in martial strife, 
 What guards that greatest good of social life? 
 What constitutes the best defence of states ? 285 
 
 Is it their floating tow'rs? their brazen gates? 
 Their troops innumerable ? 'Tis one soul 
 That gives, by union, force beyond the whole. 
 
 Columbians ! friends '. in fields of battle brave ! 
 Defend those rights the God of nature gave. 290 
 
 Heav'ns! what the price those rights, invaded, cost! 
 What wealth expended and what herces lost ! 
 Their shades still cry from many a battle-plain, 
 " Who bled for FREEDOM have not bled in vain." 
 I see blest Warren rise an awful shade 295 
 
 And great Montgomery wave the crimson'd blade ; 
 Mild Mercer, dreadful in the fields of war ; 
 Athletic Brown,* deform 'd with many a scar ; 
 Scammel,t his country's boast, the Britons' shame j 
 De Hart, who fell when dawning into fame ; 300 
 
 * Col. Brown, educated with the author, was slain and scalped by the savages. 
 f This excellent officer was killed by a dragoon, after having been taken prisoner, at th* 
 jpge of York-Town.
 
 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 135 
 
 De Kalb (from Gallic climes) the vet'rans' pride ; 
 
 Laurens, the last who for his country died I 
 
 These cry for union with ten thousand more, 
 
 Without a shroud who fester'd in their gore ; 
 
 Swept from the field in undistinguish'd doom, 305 
 
 And thrown promiscuous in a common tomb 
 
 Self-offered victims for their country's good, 
 
 Who ratified our charter'd rights with blood. 
 
 Oh, hear their cry, thou delegated band 
 
 Of patriots ! chosen rulers of the land ! 310 
 
 Each selfish thought exchang'd for patriot zeal, 
 With one accord promote the public weal: 
 Each party name, each harsh distinction drown'd 
 In concord's soft, conciliating sound ! 
 
 Our land (for war each heart, each hand prepar'd) 315 
 
 A living strength impregnable shall guard. 
 Strong in our various regions' vast resource, 
 Strong in our own unconquerable force, 
 Strong in our best ally, th' Atlantic waves, 
 Who dares attempt to make Columbians slaves, 320 
 
 Sees on his head th' intended mischief driv'n, 
 For earth a monument of wrath from heav'n! 
 Still will our warlike sires their aid afford, 
 To guard that independence which their sword 
 Achiev'd and still their sons, like Sparta's band, 325 
 
 The rushing millions in the strait withstand 
 The nation calmly rise at freedom's call, 
 United flourish or united fall. 
 
 Hence far, oh Discord ! be thy horrid crimes, 
 And hateful influence from our happy climes ! 330 
 
 Thou, lust of domination ! who has hurl'd 
 Plagues on all regions, spare the western world ! 
 May curses dire from ages long to come, 
 Pursue the miscreant ev'n beyond the tomb, 
 Who, rul'd by mad ambition's murd'rous star, 335 
 
 In Avantonness illumes the torch of v/ar. 
 May the rais'd hand that wills for blood to vote 
 Without a cause, by God's red arm be smote ! 
 Dumb struck the tongue that strives to call to arms, 
 Or lure to war with conquest's dazzling charms. 340
 
 136 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 
 
 Nor shall the nations join'd in fierce affray, 
 With bribes or threats our stedfast councils sway ; 
 In vain they soothe, in vain their menace roars, 
 Like the dash'd billow on our rocky shores. 
 
 The spark of patriot fire, with earliest breath 345 
 
 Enkindled, fears no quenching damps of death. 
 Me love of country fir'd in early life, 
 To rush amidst the military strife : 
 Touch 'd by that heat, no dangers daunt the brave, 
 Though foes unnumber'd hide the strand or wave. 350 
 
 Should ruffian war again insult our land, 
 Should civil discord shake her blazing brand ; 
 Soon would my song, like songs of Tyrteus old, 
 Fire with new rage the bosoms of the bold ; 
 Soon would our patriots march at music's sound, 355 
 
 And not a coward in the ranks be found ! 
 The chill, slow blood of vet'rans soon would start, 
 And boil and eddy round the heated heart. 
 
 Though thou, old age ! unlovely, dark, and cold, 
 Art prone to quell the spirits of the bold; 360 
 
 To freeze the veins, with palsy smite each limb, 
 And make the late keen-sighted eye-balls dim ; 
 Though for my peers thy frosty fingers strow 
 The cheeks with paleness and the locks with snow ; 
 Yet will those heroes venerable rise, 365 
 
 A spark unquench'd still flashing from their eyes, 
 In freedom's cause their bosoms beating high, 
 Prepar'd to conquer, or resolv'd to die ; 
 Around their country's standard rallying soon, 
 In all the promptness of life's genial noon, 370 
 
 Form walls of aged breasts, to ward the ball 
 From younger, and avert their country's fall: 
 Or if it falls none living leave to weep- 
 But rest all buried in the ruins deep. 
 
 From sires so brave descends one dastard son, 375 
 
 Would basely yield the prize his father won ? 
 Their fathers' fame repels that foul disgrace, 
 And spurs to splendid deeds the rising race. 
 
 Now should our youths, the renovating age, 
 Hear from their fathers, ere we quit this stage, 380
 
 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 137 
 
 Our feats in war what chiefs, as pillars, stood 
 For freedom firm, and built their fame in blood! 
 Then learn, blest youths ! to independence born I 
 What gloomy prospects usher'd in our morn! 
 To Britain long attach'd, from whence we sprung, 385 
 
 Whose praises dwelt on every infant tongue 
 Sons of her sons, and sharers in their fame 
 Our laws, religion, language, rights the same ! 
 At last a right she claim'd, new, unconfin'd, 
 " In every case the colonists to bind." 390 
 
 Thence rose resistance. Rebels then proclaim'd 
 For weakness, discord, cowardice, defam'd 
 Of preparation void mid first alarms, 
 No ships, tow'rs, treasures, arsenals or arms, 
 To us belong'd. No league, nor army ours, 395 
 
 Till common danger call'd forth common pow'rs. 
 In vain the foe from states so feebly join'd, 
 W T ith hopes of mean submission sooth'd his mind; 
 Proud stood the states by threat'nings undismay'd, 
 And with retorted scorn his threats repaid. 400 
 
 And didst thou hope, beyond th' Atlantic waves, 
 To bend unyielding freemen into slaves? 
 To make a continent that knows no end, 
 Forever on thy little isle depend? 
 
 Didst thou, presumptuous ! dream the conquest won ? 405 
 
 Did we, though weak, th' unequal combat shun ? 
 And ye who witness'd sad, when, round our shore, 
 We heard from sea th' approaching cannon roar, 
 Skirting th' horizon saw (without one friend) 
 From dim-roll'd decks a redd'ning host impend, 410 
 
 A magazine of war each pregnant sail, 
 Say, what knee trembled or what face turn'd pale ? 
 Nor sooner we beheld, in vengeance dire, 
 The shells high bursting cleave the clouds with fire, 
 Than union grew as danger came more near 415 
 
 To daring deeds we rose ! while all that's dear, 
 While all that makes ev'n frozen bosoms melt, 
 Infus'd the feelings cowards never felt. 
 Haste forg'd us arms th' ignoble rustic steel 
 A glorious weapon gleam 'd while our appeal 42d 
 
 To heav'n's high throne we made, what crowds repair 
 To temples of the Lord in fervent pray'r? 
 Their fathers' God Omnipotent they nam'd, 
 While the great Congress solemn fasts proclaim'd. 
 
 T
 
 138 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 
 
 No tongue with lies, no face in falsehood drest, 425 
 
 Mock'd the heart-searcher in his holy rest: 
 
 But strong devotions, undispers'd in air, 
 
 Rose prevalent in agony of pray'r. 
 
 ** From Britain's vet'ran bands, from hireling* hosts, 
 
 From thund'ring ships that darken all our coasts, 430 
 
 From fire and sword save us, oh Lordt" they cried 
 
 " Save us, oh Lord!" th' echoing aisles replied 
 
 u Oh, grant success may crown a cause so good, 
 
 Or let us seal our principles in blood : 
 
 Before our leader's breast thy buckler spread, 435 
 
 In days of battle cover thou his head: 
 
 To conquest guide him, and, when war shall cease, 
 
 Make him thy delegate of good in peace-" 
 
 Then as a comet through the hazy air, 
 
 O'er earth, portentous, waves his fiery hair ; 440 
 
 The blazing beacons seen from mountains far, 
 Portended the dire plagues of rushing war. 
 Then but one passion fill'd each throbbing breast, 
 Combin'd, attracted, or absorb'd the rest- 
 Collected in ourselves we stood, nor thought 445 
 That LIBERTY too dearly could be bought. 
 Inestimable prize ! for that alcne 
 Life was not counted dear, or ev'n our own. 
 
 How oft love's fires in female breasts that burn'd, 
 A kindling kiss to flames heroic turn'd ! 450 
 
 Then tim'rous virgins show'd no shameful fears, 
 Their lovers' hearts they harden'd ev'n by tears 
 By patriot .tears to glory lur'd, the swains 
 Now flam'd bold soldiers on th' embattled plains: 
 So glowing iron bath'd in limpid streams, 455 
 
 Its temper chang'd the steel of battle beams. 
 
 How oft we saw beneath the cottage-roof, 
 Of purest patriotism no vulgar proof I 
 From martial exercise with village bands, 
 In arms a youth before a matron stands, 460 
 
 * German auxiliaries, hired by the Britiih government to serve in the war against the 
 American colonies: it having been stipulated that a certain price should be piid for euclt 
 nan who shgwlJ not return.
 
 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 13^ 
 
 Grac'd with ingenuous blush that blush confest 
 
 The double duty that disturb 'd his breast: 
 
 The matron-mother ey'd with eager joy, 
 
 Clasp'd in embrace, and thus bespoke the boy : 
 
 " Thy comrades rush to glory's fields afar, 465 
 
 Lag not behind, but haste to join the war. 
 
 There reigns above, whose care delights to bless, 
 
 To feed the widow and the fatherless ; 
 
 May he" Th' unfinish'd accents fail'd her tongue, 
 
 Approv'd, not long in idle gaze he clung 470 
 
 Strait beat the drum the filial tear that fell, 
 
 A tear maternal met, in mute farewell. 
 
 By freedom rous'd, from populous cities swarms 
 Forsook their trades or arts and flew to arms. 
 " Fly, fly !" exclaim'd the recent married fair, 4F5 
 
 " To war my love ! my heart attends thee there : 
 Though born a woman, not for slavery born, 
 I hate a tyrant and a coward scorn : 
 Fear not for all that's dear to change, in war, 
 Thy bloom for wounds and beauty for a scar 480 
 
 Then brown with dust and blood from battles won, 
 Swift to my arms, my loveliest hero! run 
 All ills forgotten caught from breast to breast 
 The rapt'rous glow caressing and carest 
 Then shall we prove the joys of heav'n in store, 485 
 
 To meet in freedom and to part no more." 
 
 Awful in age, with dignified applause, 
 Our sires imprest a reverence on cur cause. 
 And shall I not remember words that fell, 
 
 As thus my father bade three sons farewell? 490 
 
 " In peace I liv'd (though stricken well with years). 
 To see your manhood now a war appears 
 Had not the chills of age these nerves unstrung, 
 Myself would go but ye are strong and young 
 Your country calls my sons 1 to battle bear 495 
 
 An old man's blessing and a father's pray'r 
 Our cause is just to guard each sacred right, 
 Go, in heav'n's name, and dare the dreadful fight 
 Go, act the man from you I hope no less 
 And may the Lord of Hosts protect and bless}" a 09
 
 140 
 
 From utmost isles o'er foaming billows tost, 
 The sight of land for many a dark day lost; 
 Borne on a thousand ships with fifes and drums, 
 And blood-red streamers, lo ! where Britain comes. 
 Lo ! where the ship-borne host from ocean speeds ! 505 
 
 Hark, mingling sounds of men and neighing steeds, 
 The rattling cannon, ammunition car, 
 With arms of fire and magazines of war ! 
 The steeds rejoice to snuff the land once more, 
 Leap in the wallowing wave, and swim to shore; 510 
 
 Amaz'd, a moment, shivering, shake away 
 The briny drops. Then form'd in war's array, 
 At first they reeling walk but ere long bound, 
 And prance impatient at the trumpet's sound. 
 Nor yet the joints their supplest movement find, 515 
 
 Nor yet their wet manes wanton in the wind. 
 As squadrons wheel to take, for march, their place, 
 Some curvet in a long, some shorter pace ; 
 Champing their curbs, the churned froth they shed, 
 And thick resounds of clattering hoofs the tread. 520 
 
 By fits the bright steel sparkling strikes the sight, 
 A misty ridge of mountain fire at night. 
 Emerg'd from fogs the infantiy appears 
 The gay light troops the gloomy grenadiers t 
 The royal guards in glittering laces drest, 5.25 
 
 The white plume nodding o'er the frowning crest, 
 Move in the van. Ensigns and flags unfurPd, 
 They seek new conquests in a new found world. 
 For these through distant climes in fields of fame, 
 Full oft had toil'd with chiefs of glorious name; 530, 
 
 Chiefs old in war, who, in some better cause, 
 Had still acquir'd new claims to high applause. 
 
 Rob'd in vermilion dye, the files of war, 
 Unfolding, stretch'd their banner'd wings afar. 
 Tall in the flaming front, with martial rage, 535 
 
 Tow'r'd the bold chieftains, Clinton, Howe, and Gage. 
 With noble badges deck'd, in lordly guise, 
 Percy, Cornwallis, Moira, caught our eyes, 
 For dignity remark'd. There Burgoyne mov'd, 
 A book-learn 'd Captain, by the muse belov'd: 540 
 
 And Carleton sage, whom regal favours grace, 
 Conferring peerage on th' ennobled race :
 
 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 141 
 
 Lincoln and Cathcart beam'd, while knights star-drest 
 Display'd " their blushing honours"* on their breast. 
 Near canvass walls, Vaughan, Leslie, Mathews, rang'd, 545 
 And Prescot captur'd twice, and twice exchang'd. 
 There march'd, on manag'd steeds, with harness gay, 
 O'Hara, Philips, Pigot, Garth and Grey. 
 There Lairds, whose car-borne sires to battle rode, 
 The Stuarts, Fraziers, Campbells, Erskines, strode: 550 
 
 M'Leods, M'Donalds, Gordons, Douglas, strove, 
 In southern sands, and many a northern grove. 
 There hoary Haldimand, long since who came 
 From poor Helvetia, rich in warlike fame, 
 Stood stately. Next, whom German climes afar, 555 
 
 Had nurs'd for blood fields in a former war, 
 De Heister, Knyphausen, Redheisel, brave, 
 And Donop destin'd to a foreign grave, 
 Stalk'd proudly on and led the venal band 
 Promis'd (miscall'd rebellion crush 'd) the land 560 
 
 Should be their own. These men their princes sold, 
 And barter'd precious lives for paltry gold. 
 Yet haply some, when conquer'd, shall enjoy- 
 That liberty they labour 'd to destroy! 
 
 For he to whom war's destinies belong, 565 
 
 Decreed the weak should triumph o'er the strong: 
 What wonder, though the might of Britain fought, 
 And fam'd confederates works of valour wrought; 
 An infant nation, warm'd by freedom's flame, 
 Should win the prize, and gain immortal fame? 57Q 
 
 To meet th' incursion of that mighty host, 
 lerne's pride, and Britain's proudest boast ; 
 The Brunswick marksmen shooting deaths from far, 
 The Hessian yagers train'd to hunt in war; 
 Grim Anspachf giants, grisly Hanau elves, 575 
 
 The people:}: cffer'd willingly themselves. 
 As rise in clouds the progeny of spring, 
 The nations wafted on aurelean wing, 
 Age, manhood, youth, with chosen leaders came, 
 Lur'd by the love of liberty and fame: 580 
 
 * Many Knights of the Bath, designated with emblems of red ribbons, served in America. 
 
 t The two battalions of Anspachers, taken with Lord Cornwallis at York-Town, were 
 tome of the tallest men I have ever seen in any military service. 
 
 t My heart is toward the governors of Israel, that offered themselves willingly among 
 ^lie people. Judges v. 9.
 
 142 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 
 
 For them the glorious toil of battle yields, 
 The laurel harvest reap'd in iron fields. 
 
 Daughters of mem'ry! maids! whose vigils keep 
 The lamps unquench'd in vaults where heroes sleep ; 
 As round the quivering flame ye tuneful watch, 585 
 
 Their names from death and dumb oblivion snatch : 
 Then Time, who meets Eternity, shall find 
 What patriot-chiefs examples for mankind 
 Stood boldly foremost Bards 1 the high song raise, 
 And with their names immortalize your lays 1 590 
 
 There, Washington ! thy form unrivall'd rose, 
 Thy country's bulwark! terror of the foes! 
 Supreme o'er all in stature, talents, grace, 
 The first in merit as the first in place. 
 
 There stood, in tactics skill 'd, the vet'ran Gates, 595 
 
 A strenuous victor for the northern states : 
 He, too, at Braddock's field, in early life, 
 Had shar'd with Washington that dreadful strife. 
 Next Greene appear'd, with self-earn'd knowledge fraught, 
 The strongest judgment and intensest thought 600 
 
 Experience small by genius great supplied, 
 His firmness growing as new perils tried 
 Fertile in each resource his piercing view 
 Intuitively look'd creation through 
 
 Clear in his breast the whole campaign was plann'd, 605 
 
 Foredoom'd by heav'n to save our southern land. 
 His body rough with scars, near Gates and Greene, 
 Unletter'd Putnam's louring brow was seen ; 
 Stern as he stood, none more for woe could feel, 
 His heart all softness, but his nerves all steel; 610 
 
 In peace a lamb, in fight a lion fierce, 
 And not a name more honour'd decks my verse. 
 In life's bleak winter Spencer ardent rose, 
 But faint the flesh, and soon to seek repose. 
 With siiver'd locks the fiery Stirling came, 615 
 
 O'er old experience blaz'd still new a flame; 
 A furnace glow'd his eye and grand his port, 
 Alike was fitted for a camp or court. 
 Then Sullivan, to rival pomp inclin'd, 
 
 Few equals knew for native pow'rs of mind. G2Q 
 
 W T here Ward commanded first, Heath's second sway 
 Of Massachusetts led the long array ;
 
 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 143 
 
 Before whose thousands Lincoln took his post, 
 
 Serene, decisive, and himself a host: 
 
 From midland meads here crowds of farmers join, 625 
 
 With Patterson's brigade, that lengthening line; 
 
 Two more brigades which yeomen stout compose, 
 
 Nixon and Greaton form in face of foes ; 
 
 Where Glover's call conducts his docile tars, 
 
 Neptunean sons adopted now by Mars ! 630 
 
 Like changing metals mingled bands convolve, 
 
 One solid corps that nothing can dissolve. 
 
 There Knox the mortars, fiU'd with tempest, taught 
 
 To raise their roar. There Morgan's woodsmen fought, 
 
 Whose rifle-balls that urg'd the sylvan war, 635 
 
 In nobler chace now carry fate afar. 
 
 As from substantial night, magnific came, 
 And roll'd in light yon planetary frame, 
 Whose march, instinctive, men amaz'd behold: 
 So from a mass confus'd our army roll'd, '640 
 
 Harmonious movement ! parts accordant link'd, 
 Wheel within wheel, with spirit all instinct ! 
 With late night watchings Wan, by him approv'd, 
 Whose godlike word the vast machinery mov'd, 
 Pickering the train prepar'd, th' encampment found, 645 
 
 The van preceded and design 'd the ground. 
 There Wadsworth's bread sustain'd for stronger strife, 
 Erst fainting bands, with renovated life; 
 Oft he from distant states the viands brought, 
 Increas'd their strength, and fed them while they fought. 650 
 
 Where roar'd their cannon as the battle bled, 
 Lamb, Proctor, Harrison and Stephens sped. 
 From low Manhattan* up the Highland steep, 
 M'Dougall pac'd in cogitation deep. 
 
 The Clintons there in toils fraternal vied, 655 
 
 (With York's battalions) void of fear and pride: 
 And Schuyler's chief command had led that force 
 Far to the north but sickness check 'd his course. 
 Though there o'er St. Clair fortune seem'd to frown, 
 Shall fortune blast the warrior's well-won crown? 660 
 
 * New-York island. Get, M'Dougsll cunimsr.deJ at WcSt-Pch.t ar.d cthfr posts in the 
 
 HIghiai.ds.
 
 144 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 
 
 Then Warren, Mercer, Nash, Montgomery, shone, 
 Though dimm'd with blood too liberal of their own I 
 Like the large oak that many a winter stood, 
 The tallest glory of its native wood, 
 
 Wooster was seen to stand and like that oak, 665 
 
 I saw him fall* beneath the fatal stroke. 
 By ambush'd foes, courageous Scriven died, 
 Where Georgia's fatten'd crops the slaughter hide ; 
 While Davidson, deep-wounded, gasp'd in gore, 
 Where shoal Catawba lav'd the troop-lin'd shore. 670 
 
 When Herkimer, sore maim'd, still fighting, fell, 
 Far o'er scant Mowhawk reach'd the Indian yell : 
 Where Warner, Gansevort, the savage brav'd, 
 And nigh Canadian lakes their starry standards wav'd. 
 
 As fly autumal leaves athwart some dale, 675 
 
 Borne on the pinions of the sounding gale ; 
 Or glides thin gossamer o'er rustling reeds, 
 Eland's, Sheldon's, Moylan's, Baylor's, battle steeds 
 So skimm'd the plain. Helms plum'd and broad-swords bright 
 Cast glimses o'er the ground like northern light. 680 
 
 There quick-ey'd Arnold, not a traitor then, 
 Vain, on his courser, soar'd mid mightiest men : 
 Now fall'n like Lucifier, the son of morn, 
 By Britain brib'd and doom'd to deathless scorn: 
 For falsehood mark'd, to infamy consign'd, 685 
 
 One grateful truth he left to glad mankind, 
 That in so long a war his lonelyf crime 
 Should stain the annals of recording Time. 
 
 Then valiant Wayne, with kindled anger warm, 
 Bar'd his red blade and claim'd to drive the storm,! 690 
 
 Death-doing hero ! still that bloody blade, 
 (Long rusting in his hall) again display'd, 
 Through wildering woods will guide the daring troop, 
 For ever watchful of the savage whoop: 
 Thence painted kings their broken faith shall rue, 695 
 
 Chas'd by the nimble horse in conflict new, 
 And gash'd with Bayonne's steel those kings no more 
 Shall teach their tribes to thirst for captive gore ; 
 
 * At Ridgefield in Connecticut, when the military stores were burned at Danbury. 
 ( By this it is meant, that there was not any other person of eminence in the America* 
 army guilty of treachery during our revolution. 
 t He commanded the corps which took Stony-Point by norm.
 
 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 145 
 
 For valiant Wayne shall bid the woods-war cease, 
 
 And give the taste of civil arts with peace. 700 
 
 'Twas then th' undaunted Daytons, sire and son, 
 With Jersey-blues their diff 'rent trophies won : 
 With these Cadwallacler fresh levies brought, 
 And Dickenson, though Penn's disciple, fought. 
 Then Huger, Maxwell, Mifflin, Marshalls, Read, 705 
 
 Hasten'd, from States remote, to seize the meed : 
 Howell's and Davie's swords, 'mid thousand deaths, 
 The laurels cropt to twine with myrtle wreaths. 
 While Smallwood, Parsons, Shepherd, Irwin, Hand, 
 Guest, Weedon, Muhlenburg, leads each his band ; 710 
 
 While Thompson, Hogan, Scott, whom adverse stars 
 Long captur'd held, return to toil in wars; 
 While Poor and Woodford yield in tents their breath, 
 Stark rode victorious in the field of death ; 
 The mountains-green, that witness'd first his fame, 715 
 
 From rocks to rocks resounded far the name. 
 As the tough horn-beam (peering o'er those rocks), 
 With gnarled grain the riving thunder mocks ; 
 Indignant Allen, manacled in vain, 
 With soul revolting, bit the British chain. 720 
 
 Not last, though smallest, DePware's dauntless throng, 
 With Bedford, Hall, and Kirkwood grace the song: 
 Nor less the song of southern chiefs shall tell, 
 How Sumner bled, and Campbell conquering fell; 
 Moultrie, and M'Intosh, and Elbert stood, 725 
 
 Though foil'd, invincible, in streams of blood ; 
 What time resistless Albion's torrent force 
 Swept round the south its wide and wasting course. 
 Her dreadless horsemen, high with conquest flush'd, 
 Through States subdued, like winds impetuous rush'd! 730 
 From them militia bands were seen to fly, 
 Light as the rack that scuds along the sky : 
 And oft, our leaders, with a gallant few, 
 (Names dear to fame!) the noble strife renew. 
 Moore, Gadsden, Caswell, Rutherford, and Ash, 73.* 
 
 With Bryant, bade the flint of battle flash ; 
 While Gregory, Butler, Williamson, and Clark, 
 Bull, Lawson, Stephens, fed the growing spark, 
 
 U
 
 146 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 
 
 Wliich, Brenan, Lacey, Sevier, taught to burn, 
 
 And from King's-mountain* back on Britain turn ; 740 
 
 'Till, rous'd by Cleveland's, Shelby's fanning breath, 
 
 It ran, like lightning, o'er the pitch-pine heath. 
 
 To turn its havoc headlong on his foes, 
 
 A whirlwind from the north, then Greene arose ; 
 
 His brandish'd steel a burning meteor glar'd, 745 
 
 'Mid blackness bickering fire his way prepar'd ; 
 
 While Marion, Pickens, Sumpter, thund'ring loud, 
 
 Roll'd down their dark'ning cliffs a living cloud; 
 
 Like spirits of the storm, beside great Greene, 
 
 Young rivals, Lee and Washington, were seen, 750 
 
 Wheeling their squadron 'd horse. There Howard came, 
 
 And shot through Tarleton's ranks pernicious flame. 
 
 Two Pinckneys came, in war, in peace both great, 
 
 And both conspicuous for a wreath of State : 
 
 Two Williams, diff 'rent though their place of birth, 755 
 
 Alike their prowess, and alike their worth. 
 
 Howe from the south, to eastern climates hied, 
 And hail'd at Hudson's forts our rising pride ! 
 There what brave youths for arms relinquish'd books, 
 Cobb, Varnum, Ogdens, Huntingtons, and Brooks. 760 
 
 There Swift, Hull, Sherburn, Olney, Smiths were found, 
 And Hamilton, " by both Minervas crown'd." 
 Nor shall my numbers pass unheeded by 
 The Wyllys brothers one beneath the sky 
 Sleeps in the western wild his bosom gor'd 765 
 
 With barb'rous wounds in many song deplor'd. 
 Nor shall the Trumbulls not my lay inspire, 
 Distinguish'd offspring of a glorious sire ! 
 Nor shall my lay withhold the just applause 
 From foreign chiefs who came to aid our cause : 770 
 
 Their various garbs and arms, and language strange, 
 To lend more service, straight the warriors change. 
 Steuben, mature in years, from Prussia's plains, 
 The peerless Frederick's art of war explains. 
 Fayette's light corps its well-earn 'd fame supports, 775 
 
 And Armand's legion rash adventures courts. 
 With Poland's suff'rings rankling in his mind, 
 Our levied forces Kosciusko join'd, 
 
 * This alludes to the signal defeat of Colonel Ferguson, at King's-mountain, by a gallant 
 tody of mountaineers, under the command of the officers here mentioned.
 
 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 147 
 
 Expert to change the front, retreat, advance, 
 
 And judge of ground with military glance: 780 
 
 While strong Pulaske's* troops for battle rave, 
 
 Intrepid swordsmen ! bravest of the brave ! 
 
 These chiefs illustrious led, in part, the host ; 
 
 But who can name Columbia's countless boast ? 
 
 Who count the sands by eddying whirlblasts driv'n, 785 
 
 Or number all the stars that rise in heav'n? 
 
 Yet stir one sleeping image, straight the brain 
 Leads kindred myriads with a magic chain ; 
 While all the shapes to mem'ry that belong, 
 In shadowy cohorts swell the subject throng. 790 
 
 When night and solitude o'er earth and skies 
 Extend their gloom, what forms of heroes rise 
 Full on my view ! what feats, that grac'd each band, 
 Till peace, with independence bless'd our landj 
 
 And oft in recollections sad, but dear, 795 
 
 I soothe long absence with a secret tear 
 Where'er I wander, or where'er I rest, 
 The love of country warms my lab'ring breast; 
 And as the flame within my bosom burns, 
 
 Each trembling feeling tow'rds Columbia turns. 800 
 
 'Tis like the steel whose magnet-instinct guides 
 O'er unknown oceans and bewild'ring tides, 
 And though the lone bark, wrapp'd in darkness, roll, 
 Still points its path and vibrates to the pole. 
 
 Speak, ye who youthful felt the big tear start, 805 
 
 As first your home ye left with heavy heart, 
 The bliss (long years elaps'd) to see that spot ! 
 Alike the marble dome and mud-wall'd cot 
 Restore to mind the sports and joys of youth, 
 Each heartfelt proof of innocence and truth ! 810 
 
 How each remember'd toy the scene endears, 
 And home the loveliest place on earth appears ! 
 Thou humble spot beneath Columbia's skies, 
 Where dawn'd the day-star on my opening eyes, 
 Can I forget thee in this distant scene, 815 
 
 Though ocean rolls a world of waves between? 
 
 * Slain with many of his legion at the attack on Savannah.
 
 148 ON THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. 
 
 How oft some spirit deign'd, from blissful bow'rs, 
 
 With dreams of thee to charm my sleeping hours ! 
 
 Thoughts not my own, still whisper'd soft and clear, 
 
 As songs of seraphs to th' unsensual ear, 820 
 
 With kind delusion cur'd my waking pains, 
 
 Whether 'mid deaths I slept on tented plains ; 
 
 Or tir'd with travel on some desert steep, 
 
 Or rock'd in cradles of the roaring deep ; 
 
 Or when my sails at crafty courts were furl'd, 825 
 
 In many a region of this restless world. 
 
 While yet detain'd beneath Iberian skies, 
 Still for my native land new longings rise: 
 Me keen remembrance goads, by seas confin'd, 
 While all my country rushes on my mind. 830 
 
 Fir'd at the name, I feel the patriot heat 
 Throb in my bosom, in my pulses beat, 
 And on my visage glow. Though what I feel 
 No words can tell unutterable zeal! 
 
 Yetthou, Omniscient! whose all-searching eyes 835 
 
 Behold the hidden thoughts that in us rise, 
 Accept the silent pray'r " increase, secure, 
 My country's bliss, while nature's self endure ; 
 'Till pass'd the race of man, like fleeting wind, 
 Whose viewless current leaves no trace behind, 840 
 
 Th' irrevocable voice from Heav'n absorb 
 In smould'ring flames, the annihilated orb!"
 
 A 
 
 POEM 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON, 
 
 PRONOUNCED 
 
 At the House of the American Legation, in Madrid, 
 on the 4th Day of July, 1800 ; 
 
 BEING THE 
 
 TWENTY-FOURTH ANNIVERSARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 INDEPENDENCE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNITED STATES 
 
 OF 
 
 AMERICA,
 
 TO 
 
 MRS. WASHINGTON, 
 
 At Mount- Vernon. 
 
 Madrid, February 22, 1800. 
 DEAR AND RESPECTED MADAM, 
 
 A OO long was I an inmate of your hospitable family, and too 
 intimately connected with the late illustrious head of it, not to 
 share in the poignancy of your distress for the death of the best of 
 husbands. The loss of the most distinguished man of the age is 
 an event which has produced an extensive mourning in Europe as 
 well as in America. On the return of this day, which was sig 
 nalized by his birth, and which was accustomed to be celebrated 
 with heartfelt festivity throughout the United States, what mingled 
 ideas crowd upon the recollection ! Grief more genuine or more 
 universal was never manifested in any age or in 'any nation. 
 While a grateful country offers to you the joint tribute of sym 
 pathetic tears, I am encouraged to hope that the solitary condo 
 lences of an absent friend will not be unseasonable or unaccepta 
 ble. Accept, then, that pledge of my sincere affection and re 
 spect for you. In the season of severe afflictions, I know you were 
 ever disposed to listen to the voice of friendship, reason, and re 
 ligion. When, nearly nineteen years ago, you were bereaved by 
 death of a dear, an only son, after having mentioned the superior 
 motives for resignation to the dispensations of the Deity, I at 
 tempted to administer some consolation, by showing that the leni 
 ent hand of time might mitigate the severity of grief, and that 
 you had still the prospect of enjoying many good days on earth 
 in the society of the best of friends, as well as in beholding your 
 grand-children happily established in life, as a comfort for your 
 more advanced years. Highly favoured have you been by Provi 
 dence, in the uninterrupted fruition of those felicities, until the late 
 fatal stroke, which has removed all you held most dear for ever 
 from this world. Having lived long enough for himself, and long 
 enough for glory, he has gone before us from these mutable 
 scenes of trouble to the mansions of eternal rest.
 
 152 LETTER TO MRS. WASHINGTON. 
 
 We, too, are hastening to follow him " to that undiscovered 
 country from whose bourne no traveller returns." The only dif 
 ference is, whether we shall commence our journey a few days 
 sooner or later. In either case the idea of meeting our dear de 
 parted friends will serve, in some degree, to cheer the gloomy 
 passage. To those who have already passed into the vale of de 
 clining life, it is true every thing here below ought to appear too 
 transitory and too short-lived to allow them to calculate on per 
 manent enjoyments. If the consolation which was once natu 
 rally drawn from the expectation of still seeing many good days 
 on this earth, be diminished, the resources of reason and religion 
 are everlasting as they are inexhaustible. The noble sentiments 
 and principles of your departed husband remain for your support. 
 Your long alliance with that exalted character cannot fail to ele 
 vate your mind above the pressure of immoderate and unreason 
 able sorrow : we are apt to assimilate ourselves, as far as we are 
 able, to the character, and, as it were, to identify our own with 
 the destinies of those we love. Your hope of happiness is with 
 him on high. But without suffering your intellectual view to be 
 diverted from that higher contemplation, may you not experience 
 some soothing sensations in contemplating a whole people weep 
 ing over the tomb of your beloved ; in seeing them strive to be 
 stow unequalled honours on his memory, and in knowing that they 
 wish to alleviate your sorrow by a participation of it? And may 
 you not derive some rational comfort from the recollection that the 
 great and good man whom we now mourn as having been subject 
 to the lot of mortality, has faithfully discharged every duty in 
 life; from a belief that he has now entered upon a glorious im 
 mortality ; and from a conviction that, after having rendered to 
 his country more important services than any other human cha 
 racter ever performed, his example will continue to be a blessing 
 to mankind so long as this globe shall exist as a theatre for human 
 action ? Since the fatal news reached me, I have found my heart 
 so much oppressed as not to be able to give vent to those effusions 
 which can alone afford me some relief. I wished to express my 
 sensations, but felt myself incapable of the effort : so true is the^ 
 observation of the author of the pathetic elegy on Mr. Addison: 
 
 " What mourner ever felt poetic fires ! 
 Slow comes the verse that real woe inspires; 
 Grief unaffected suits but ill with art, 
 Or flowing numbers with a bleeding heart."
 
 LETTER TO MRS. WASHINGTON. 153 
 
 When my own grief shall become a little moderated, I propose 
 to indulge my melancholy meditations in endeavouring to delineate 
 such features of the character of the deceased father of his coun 
 try, and such events of his interesting life, as have left the most 
 indelible impressions on my mind. I shall thus procure the 
 double advantage, first, for myself, of holding a kind of spiritual 
 intercourse with him ; and, next, of exhibiting for others an ad 
 mirable model for imitation. Could I flatter myself with the ex 
 pectation of being able to express (in any adequate proportion) 
 what I know and what I feel on a subject which will employ the 
 pens of innumerable writers, I might then hope to do not less 
 justice to his public and private virtues than others. For, con 
 scious I am that few have had opportunities of knowing him bet 
 ter, and that none could appreciate more justly his morals and 
 his merits. If the task which gratitude, affection and duty im 
 pose shall not be executed in a manner too unworthy of the sub 
 ject, even in my own judgment, I shall ask your acceptance of 
 the production when finished. In the mean time, may you re 
 ceive, while here on earth, every species of consolation of which 
 an afflicted and virtuous mind is susceptible : and may the choicest 
 of heaven's benedictions attend you through the whole period of 
 your existence. Such is the fervent prayer of 
 Your most affectionate 
 
 And most obliged friend and servant, 
 
 D. HUMPHREYS. 
 
 P. S. I request you will present my most affectionate regards 
 to Mrs. Stuart and family, to all your amiable grand-children, to 
 Mr. Lear, Dr. Craig and family, and, in general, all my ancient 
 friends in your neighbourhood. Mrs. Humphreys, although she 
 has not the honour of being personally known to you, cannot but 
 take a deep interest in your afflictions. She requests me to ten- 
 tier the homage of her best respects to you.
 
 TO 
 
 MRS. WASHINGTON, 
 
 At Mount-Vernon. 
 
 Madrid, July 5, 1800. 
 DEAR AND RESPECTED MADAM, 
 
 J.N conformity to the intimation given in my letter, dated the 22d 
 of February last, I now dedicate to you a Poem, on the death of 
 your late husband, delivered yesterday, at the house of the Ame- 
 rican legation in this city, in presence of a respectable number of 
 persons belonging to different nations. Their partiality to the 
 subject led them to listen to it with peculiar indulgence. And 
 from you, I flatter myself, it will meet with no unfavourable recep 
 tion, even if it should not have the desired effect of diminishing the 
 source of your sorrow, as it contains a representation (though but 
 an imperfect one) of my melancholy sensations and as it is rather 
 the production of the heart than of the head. When I wrote to 
 you on the 22d of February last, I was ignorant that day had been 
 set apart as sacred to the memory of General Washington. I was 
 unconscious that the voice of mourning was raised at that moment 
 throughout every district in the United States for your and their 
 irreparable loss. Yet, on a day which had been rendered for ever 
 memorable by his birth, it was so natural for the feelings of the 
 whole nation to be in sympathy, that I could not fail of participat 
 ing in the mournful solemnity which I afterwards found had beei> 
 recommended by the President to the people of the union. 
 
 The anniversary of Independence produces, in some sort, a re 
 novation of the same sentiments. For who can separate the idea 
 of our Washington from that of our Independence ? Who can avoid 
 renewing their lamentations, that he, who contributed so largely 
 to the establishment of it, is now no more? That he was raised up 
 by Heaven to be more instrumental than any other mortal in ob 
 taining the acknowledgment of our right to be an independent 
 nation, and in securing the enjoyment of our civil liberty under a 
 good form of government, no one has ever pretended to deny. For 
 the accomplishment of this glorious destiny, it was indispensably 
 necessary that he should have been born just so long before the
 
 156 DEDICATION. 
 
 revolution, as to have acquired all the qualities of body and mind 
 adequate to the performance of the important part he was called 
 upon to act. This observation has probably often occurred and 
 been expressed. But I beg leave to mention another which has 
 not, to my knowledge, hitherto been made. It seems not unrea 
 sonable to suppose (from the wonderful change of sentiments 
 which has since taken place in France) that his death was or 
 dained by Providence to happen exactly at the point of time 
 when the salutary influence of his example would be more exten 
 sively felt than it could have been at any other period. So that 
 it may be said 'of him, with peculiar propriety, that his whole 
 existence was of a piece, and that he died as he lived, for the 
 good of mankind. Perhaps the efficacy of his example could not 
 be so much needed at any moment hereafter as it is at present, 
 to recommend systems of morals and manners calculated to pro 
 mote the public felicity. Had he died when the Directory go 
 verned France, it cannot be doubted that his name, if not loaded 
 with obloquy, would, at least, have been treated with contempt 
 in that country, and, as far as it was possible, consigned to obli 
 vion. The circumstances are now greatly changed, and the good 
 and the brave in that, as in eveiy other nation, consider them 
 selves as having lost in him the ornament and glory of the age. 
 In the British dominions distinguished honours have been paid to 
 his memory. In France itself, a public mourning* has been de 
 creed for his death. There those descriptions of men just now 
 mentioned have given utterance to their generous feelings, and 
 the cry of grief and admiration has resounded in the very place 
 where the howling of rage and malediction was but lately heard. 
 In the funeral eulogium pronounced by Fontanes, at the command 
 of the French government (of which I have made and enclosed 
 a translation for your perusal), you will find many correct, useful, 
 and sublime ideas. The men who now possess the supreme power 
 have ordered the models of public virtue (if I may so express 
 myself) personified at different epochas, to be placed before them. 
 The bust of General Washington is associated with those of the 
 greatest human characters that have ever existed. This is a 
 happy presage of better intentions and better times : for ambition 
 and selfishness, shrinking from his presence, could ill support 
 the mute reproaches of that awful marble. 
 
 In either extremity of life so immediately does the lot of Gene 
 ral Washington appear to have been the charge of heaven ! Since 
 the mortal as well as the natal hour is -unchangeably fixe d y it 
 
 * See the order of the day of the First Consul of France in the appendix.
 
 DEDICATION. 157 
 
 becomes our duty to acquiesce in the wise dispensations of the 
 Deity. The illustrious father of his country was long since pre 
 pared for this event. You well remember, when his life was de 
 spaired of at New- York, he addressed these words to me : " I 
 know it is very doubtful whether ever I shall rise from this bed, 
 and God knows it is perfectly indifferent to me whether I do or 
 not." Amidst all the successes and all the honours of this world, 
 he knew, "that no man is to be accounted happy until after death." 
 Happy is it that the seal of immortality is set on the charac 
 ter of him, whose counsels as well as actions were calculated to 
 increase the sum of human happiness. Those counsels are now 
 the more likely to be spontaneously obeyed, since his career has 
 been successfully finished, and since it is every where fashionable 
 to speak of his talents and services in terms of the highest ap 
 plause. In fine, the world is disposed, in this instance, to do jus 
 tice to the most unsullied worth it has perhaps ever witnessed. 
 While heroes, and statesmen, and nations contemplate with com 
 placency his public life as a perfect model for a public character, 
 it remains for those who knew him in the calm station of retire 
 ment to demonstrate how dearly they prized his amiable disposi 
 tions and domestic virtues, by imitating his conduct in private life. 
 To be great is the lot of few to be good is within the power of all. 
 What are the inestimable consolations of a good conscience in the 
 hour of afflictions, no one knows better than yourself; and it 
 ought not to be indifferent to you that posterity too will know, 
 that, in all your social relations, and in discharging all the duties 
 of your sex, the whole tenour of your behaviour has been highly 
 exemplary, and worthy of the most unreserved approbation: in 
 deed, that it has been worthy of the wife of General Washington. 
 With such consolatory reflections I bid you an affectionate 
 adieu, in renewing the assurances of the great regard and esteem 
 with which 
 
 I have the honour to be, 
 
 Dear and respected Madam, 
 Your sincere friend, 
 
 And most humble servant, 
 
 D. HUMPHREYS. 
 
 P. S. I request my best respects may be offered to all my 
 friends with you and in your vicinity. .
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 JjINCE the following Poem will probably be perused by some fo 
 reigners who have not much acquaintance with the United States, 
 it was presumed that it might not be improper to furnish some 
 illustrations of it in the notes. 
 
 As the life of General Washington excited so much admiration, 
 and his death such universal sorrow, it was imagined no commu 
 nications could be unwelcome to the public which might tend to 
 give a just idea of the purity, disinterestedness and friendship of 
 that distinguished character. Such is the tendency of his letters 
 to the author, written in the confidence of friendship, and, con 
 sequently, not meant for the public eye. But now that the cur 
 tain is drawn by death, it was conceived that the publication would 
 not only reflect credit upon the man who composed them, but 
 even be of some utility to his country. And now that he is for 
 ever removed from us, it will not be superfluous to remark, that 
 what might have been considered by certain persons as flattery, 
 if published during his life, cannot at present be subject to that 
 imputation. 
 
 The author thinks proper here to offer some apology for the 
 disproportion which may perhaps be noticed between the different 
 parts of the poem. Since several writers have concurred in ex 
 pressing more admiration for the civil than for the military talents 
 of General Washington; and since the splendour of the late war 
 like achievements in Europe has, in a manner, eclipsed all the 
 martial glory that had preceded, so that the events of our revolu 
 tionary war are in danger of being unknown to posterity ; it was 
 deemed not improper to describe at large the principal battle 
 which was fought between the two main armies, and which was 
 rendered the more remarkable from the scenery, season, and vi 
 cissitudes that designated the engagement. 
 
 These are the chief reasons why the author has thought him 
 self justified in dwelling so long on that part of his subject, while 
 he has been obliged to pass over many other topics of importance 
 with so much rapidity. Nothing has been more admired among 
 mankind than the description of ancient battles, on which the 
 fate of empires depended, and which have been immortalized in
 
 160 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 epic poems. Whether, in the modern art of war, equal interest 
 can be attached to, or equal enthusiasm excited by similar descrip 
 tion, remained to be seen. For, certain it is, the greater part 
 of modern poets have not been equally successful in this species 
 of composition. And this want of success, it may fairly be con 
 cluded, has frequently happened from a servile use of hackneyed 
 expressions, as well as from a confused mixture of ideas, with 
 respect to ancient and modern arms and tactics. It has not been 
 pretended that the art of war among the ancients was as perfect 
 as it is among the moderns. But it has been intimated, in pro 
 portion as the arts grew more perfect they grew less complex, 
 and less capable of being adorned with poetical ornament. And 
 it has been said, " that the single combats of the chiefs, the long 
 dialogues held with the dying, and the unexpected rencounters 
 we meet with, which betray the imperfection of the military art, 
 furnish the poet with the means of making us acquainted with his 
 heroes, and interesting us in their good or ill fortune." It has 
 further been said, " at present armies are vast machines, ani 
 mated by the breath of their General. The muse denies her as 
 sistance in their evolutions : she is afraid to penetrate the clouds 
 of powder and smoke that conceal from her sight alike the cow 
 ard and the brave, the private sentinel and the Commander in 
 Chief." But is this noisome vapour, this terrifying darkness, 
 which operates so mischievously on the sight of the muse and on 
 the imagination of the critic, so complete and so durable, as to 
 render it impracticable for us to acquire any distinct idea of the 
 scenery ? Is it not rather a poetical licence to assert, that the 
 Commander in Chief is not more conspicuous than the private 
 sentinel? At the same time he is represented as the only object 
 that is worthy of attention. Is every illustrious achievement con 
 cealed from view, or seen through a contracting medium ? Does 
 not a certain degree of obscurity and indistinctness for the mo 
 ment, like the twilight of a checkered grove, serve to magnify 
 and vary the objects of vision ? Is there no variety of sounds to 
 relieve the monotony, no change of circumstances to diversify the 
 relation? No choice of incidents for general, none for particu 
 lar description ? Can nothing that is tender or pathetic be selected 
 to touch the sensibility? Is there no possibility of picturing some 
 part of the bloody field (with the clouds withdrawing) to the 
 mind's eye as it appeared to the bodily optics ? No means of ren 
 dering the principal combatants interesting, because they are not 
 often to be seen in single combat, and because they cannot now be 
 unnaturally employed in holding long dialogues with the dying, 
 and in making us acquainted with the history of the living ? Did
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 161 
 
 the prose prototypes of those poetical colloquies ever exist? Does 
 the character of the modern Commander in Chief become less 
 important or less interesting from the creative faculty which is at 
 tributed to him of infusing a vital principle into his army ? Is not 
 heaven's all-ruling Sire represented to our feeble comprehensions, 
 in the majesty of his terrors, as being at times surrounded with 
 clouds and thick darkness? Could the ancients introduce into 
 their heroic compositions the grand phenomena of nature with 
 as much propriety as the moderns ? Ask those who have seen a 
 battle fought in our own time, whether there be nothing glorious 
 in the appearance of one MAN, who, in the midst of the confu 
 sion and horror of the elemental conflict, decides the fortune of 
 the day ? Is he attended with no tremendous apparel, which can, 
 furnish truly poetical images? Is there nothing dreadfully sub 
 lime in the thunder of cannon, the charge of cavalry, and the 
 moving line of infantry, whose naked steel bears down all before 
 it? Nothing unspeakably animating in modern martial music? 
 But let the writer feel his subject; let him rush rapidly with his 
 reader into the hurry and heat of the battle ; let animation, har 
 mony and movement be communicated ; and it is to be supposed 
 that the human mind is still susceptible of receiving strong im 
 pressions, and of being agitated with powerful emotions. It is not 
 intended to be decided here, that the Greek and Latin poets pos 
 sess no advantage over the moderns in the copiousness or melody 
 of their languages ; or that poesy in those languages does not ad 
 mit of more boldness in the figures, pomp in the diction, music 
 in the cadences, variety in the numbers, or greater facility for 
 imitative beauty in making the sound an echo to the sense, than 
 in most of the living languages. This is left to the decision of 
 those who are better acquainted with the subject. But what is 
 still more fascinating than the charms of poesy; what more 
 likely to elevate the rising generation to emulate the exalted deeds 
 of their fathers, than the examples of illustrious men placed in 
 action before them? Or what more capable than glowing de 
 scriptions of battles successfully fought for freedom, to keep alive 
 that fire of heroism which is so essentially necessary for the de 
 fence of free states? 
 
 If a coincidence of thought should be found in this composition 
 with that which has been introduced into any other on the same 
 subject, it ought to be known that the author had not seen any 
 publication, except the eulogy of Judge Minot, of Boston, at the 
 time when he composed the following poem.
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 This Anniversary of Independence overcast with unusual 
 glooms symfitoms of extreme and universal affliction for the 
 death of Washington >my unutterable feelings of distress 
 his friends who were present, how affected apostrophe to me* 
 lancholy motives for endeavouring to overcome the oppres 
 sion of silent grief, in ordftr to celebrate h'.s giorious achieve 
 ments different classes of people called upon to sympathise in 
 the general sorrow for his death sketch of the extraordinary 
 qualities of body and mind, which distinguished him in youth, 
 and Jilted him for future public employments his early mis 
 sionfirst military exploits subsequent occupation in civil 
 and agricultural life until middle age election as a Delegate 
 to the Jirst Congress Great-Britain forces us into the revo 
 lutionary war that war different in character and weapons 
 from the wars of the Indians or ancients Washington is ap 
 pointed Commander in Chief of the American armies his wise 
 and successful procrastinating system battle of Monmouth, 
 as being the principal action fought between the two main ar 
 mies, described in detail siege of York-Town difficult and 
 distressing situations invincible firmness of the American 
 hero a mutiny suppressed peace resignation of his com 
 mission as Commander in Chief troubles that succeeded in the 
 United States for want of a good government Washington^ 
 with the Federal Convention, formed a new Constitution he is 
 unanimously chosen first President of the United States, at a 
 very tempestuous period his just system of policy in general j 
 and particularly with respect to foreign nations an insurrec 
 tion quelled without bloodshed his humane conduct on all occa 
 sions towards our enemies, and especially towards the abori 
 gines of America when conquered treatment of Africans 
 his journey through the United States their gratitude to 
 him unparalleled prosperity of his administration his re 
 ward the benefits resulting from his enlightened policy not 
 limited to his own country, but extended to mankind his re 
 tirement from public life he is again named Commander in 
 Chief a short time before his death that event lamented with 
 the tenderest sensibility by all our troops* though he was so 
 extensively respected and beloved, he did not entirely escape 
 slander its impotency his last advice his important services 
 in life, and heroic contempt of death, cited as examples consola 
 tions for his widow view of a hafipy immortality spirits of the 
 brave and supernatural beings invoked to protect our orphaned 
 land address to the supreme Disposer of all things to preserve 
 our freedom vision of Washington concludes the poem.
 
 A POEM 
 
 ON THP DEATH OF 
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 
 
 Independence of our western world, 
 Beneath whose banner broad in war unfurl'd, 
 With Washington I toil'd! beneath whose shade* 
 With him beheld thy fruits in peace display'd 1 
 Say why such deep'ning glooms this day o'erspread, 5 
 
 Thy annual feast, as for some dearest dead ? 
 
 Say, lov'd Columbians! what these glooms bespeak ?f 
 Why paleness gathers on each alter'd cheek? 
 Why round the shore and o'er each inland heath, 
 Tolls from each village tow'r the bell of death? 19 
 
 Why stops the dance ? Why cease the sounds of mirth ? 
 What unknown sorrow saddens half the earth? 
 What means yon sable train in shadowy ranks, 
 That dimly moves along Potowmac's banks? 
 Why on my view ascends yon phantom bier?| 15 
 
 I fear'd ah, woe to me! too true that fear! 
 
 * After having served through the war with General Washington, the authar accompanied 
 him to Mount-Vernon, and was the last officer belonging to the army of the United States 
 who parted from the Commander in Chief. He afterwards returned and resided at that seat 
 during the whole time which elapsed between the publication of the present Constitution 
 and the election of General Washington as first President : And when Mr. Charles Thompson 
 came there, by direction of Congress, to notify that event, the author was the only person 
 (their domestics excepted) who attended the President to New-York, then the temporary 
 residence of the government. 
 
 + Upon the news of the death of General Washington being communicated to the Ameri 
 can people, public deliberations ceased, business was suspended, places of amusement were 
 shut, funeral solemnities were performed in many churches, and every possible demonstration 
 of sincere mourning was manifested throughout the United States. 
 
 t The reader may be referred to the printed relation of the affecting manner in which the 
 burial was conducted at the family vault, on the bank of the Potowmac. See the general 
 order for celebrating the funeral obsequies. Also the interesting description of the military 
 proceedings, on this occasion, in the cantonment of the Union Brigade, at the Scotch-Plains, 
 in New-Jersey, commanded by Colonel William S. Smifi formerly Aid-de-Camp of Geneva! 
 Washington.
 
 164 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 Fall'n is the mighty Washington is dead 
 Our day to darkness turn'd our glory fled 
 Yes, that lov'd form lies lifeless, dark in dust 
 Of patriots purest as of heroes first ! 20 
 
 Though duty calls and friendship leaves no choice, 
 Unutterable feelings choak my voice 
 For sensibilities I bring, not less, 
 And greater grief than others, to express. 
 Then ask your breast, each feeling patriot, ask, 25 
 
 How dread the duty and how great the task ? 
 Yet who can tell what sorrow fills my breast? 
 Can all the sighs that will not be supprest, 
 The struggling voice and eyes that overflow. 
 Effuse such deep, immeasurable woe ? 30 
 
 Then view the scene of death, where keener pain 
 Palsies each nerve, and thrills through every vein. 
 Ye sorrowing inmates of his mournful dome, 
 Ye sad domestics, kindred, neighbours, come ! 
 Take a last gaze in ruins where he lies ! 35 
 
 Pale your mute lips and red your failing eyes 
 But, dumbly eloquent, despair shall tell, 
 How long ye lov'd him, and, ev'n more, how well J 
 
 Come, thou! whose voice alone my country hears, 
 To woe abandon 'd, and dissolv'd in tears; 40 
 
 Come, Melancholy ! come in sorrow steep 
 The dirge of death, and teach my words to weep ! 
 Thee will I woo in every haunted place, 
 And give my bosom to thy cold embrace. 
 
 Adieu, ye gayer scenes a long farewell 45 
 
 To festal domes where mirth and music dwell; 
 I seek the house of mourning -there, my soul, 
 Thy daring flights, 'mid damps of death, controul { 
 Or let me rove where spectres haunt the glooms, 
 In meditations lost among the tombs ; 50 
 
 Hold visionary converse with my chief, 
 And long indulge the luxury of grief. 
 
 Can stoic precepts grief like this assuage, 
 Grief not confin'd to nation, sex, or agej 
 Could apathy our sense of grief benumb, 55 
 
 Matter inanimate, no longer dumb,
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 165 
 
 "Would find a tongue shall he, whose guiding sword 
 
 Our path to Independence first explor'd, 
 
 Sleep unremember'd ? him will none adorn, 
 
 Whose wreaths of fame shall deck our sons unborn, 60 
 
 Whose independent soul, untaught to yield, 
 
 Shall fill their breasts and fire them to the field? 
 
 Shall not the western world bewail the blow 
 
 That laid our chief, the first of mortals, low ? 
 
 And shall not he (th' example plac'd in view 65 
 
 For endless generations to pursue) 
 
 Who for his country spent his every breath, 
 
 Speak from the tomb and serve it after death ? 
 
 Then weep thou orphan'd world ! thy poignant grief 
 From nat'ral tears shall find a faint relief. 70 
 
 Ye choirs of children ! Washington is dead 
 Have ye no sobs to heave, no tears to shed ? 
 Unknowing your great loss, with chaplets* come, 
 In robes" of white, and strow with flow'rs his tomb! 
 Ye lovely virgins left to long despair, 75 
 
 With soften'd features and disorder'd hair, 
 The slow procession join 1 Ye matrons grave, 
 Who boast an offspring resolute and brave, 
 Swell with your moan the symphony of woe ; 
 While ycuth and manhood teach their tears to flow ! 80 
 
 Orphans! your benefactorf is no more 
 A second parent lost, with pangs deplore \ 
 Ye desolated widows, weep him dead, 
 Whose fleeces cloath'd you and whose harvests fed ! 
 Ye his co-evals, whose dim west'ring sun 85 
 
 Nigh to that bourne, whence none returns, has run ; 
 W r ith parsimonious drops bedew his urn ; 
 Ye go to him, but he will not return. 
 Stern-visag'd vet'rans, scorning threats and fears, 
 With death familiar, but unus'd to tears ; 90 
 
 Ye who with him for independence fought, 
 And the rough work of revolution wrought; 
 Yc brave companions of his martial cares, 
 Inur'd to hardships, in his fame co-heirs 3 
 
 * Many solemn processions, in celebration of thp funeral obsequies of General Washing 
 ton, were made in divers cities, towns, and villages of the United States. 
 
 + Mr. Lear, the confidential friend of General Washington, can disclose better than any 
 other person what an amount of property was annually distributed by him in secret charities.
 
 166 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 Though in your eye the big tear stand represt, 95 
 
 Let sharper sorrow sting your manly breast! 
 
 To worlds unknown what friends have gone before ! 
 
 The place that knew them, knows them now no more; 
 
 Your seats at annual feasts* must be more bare, 
 
 Ev'n ye must be the wrecks of what ye were ; 100 
 
 Till late, supported on his staff, appears 
 
 (Like some lone arch that braves a length of years) 
 
 One hoary MAN, all helpless, pale, unnerv'd, 
 
 The last alive with Washington who serv'd ! 
 
 And ye, who oft his public counsels heard, 105 
 
 Admir'd his wisdom and his words rever'd; , 
 
 Ye senators 1 let mourning's voice succeed, 
 
 And join the cry, " the mighty's fall'n indeed." 
 
 " Fall'n is the mighty," loads each gale with sighs, 
 " Fall'n is the mighty," shore to shore replies. 110 
 
 Of him the tearful travellerf will speak 
 The tear will wet the wandering sailor'sj cheek, 
 Who, hearing 'mid the storm his country's cry, 
 Furls the white canvass in a foreign sky. 
 
 Of him, at home, will speak each aged sire, 115 
 
 As his young offspring crowd the wintry fire, 
 Their list'ning ears with tales of wonder strike, 
 And say, " alas! when shall we see his like?" 
 
 What talents rare, ne'er lent before by heav'n, 
 To him, the glory of his age, were giv'n ? 120 
 
 What force of body, majesty of mind, 
 To make one perfect whole in him combin'd? 
 O'er his fine figure and distinguish'd face, 
 Life's rosy morn suffus'd cherubic grace ; 
 
 While toils his sinews brace, his limbs dilate, 125 
 
 And arm his breast to brave the bolts of fate. 
 What peerless portion of th' Almighty's might 
 Kerv'd the new chief, magnanimous for fight? 
 
 * The society of the Cincinnati is composed of the officers of the army who served their 
 country during the revolutionary war. Their annual meetings are held on the fourth day 
 of July in every State. 
 
 + The citizens of the United States travelling or residing in foreign countries, universally 
 Wore badges of mourning. 
 
 } Upon the news of the death of General Washington being received in Europe, the colours 
 on board of American vessels were hoisted half mast high, and raiuute guns were fired. The 
 sailors belonging to American vessels in the Thames assisted at the church in Wspping at a 
 service adapted to the occasion.
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 167 
 
 How o'er the rising race, by merit aw'd, 
 
 He look'd and mov'd conspicuous as a god ? 130 
 
 Him young a model for our youth behold ! 
 No dupe to pleasure and no slave to gold;* 
 Above low pride, nor smit with love of pow'r, 
 Nor idly changing with the changing hour : 
 Each headstrong passion curb'd, each sense refin'd, 135 
 
 Devote to virtue all his mighty mind! 
 That mighty mind, correct, capacious, strong, 
 Discriminating clearly right from wrong; 
 By Meditation's lamp soon learn 'd to scan 
 
 The dark recesses of the heart of man 140 
 
 Modest, not bashful, ev'n in timid youth, 
 Nor obstinate, but nobly firm for truth ; 
 Of others' counsels, his own judgment such, 
 He priz'd them nor too little nor too much; 
 And chief, that happiest skill to him was known, 145 
 
 When others' to prefer and when his own. 
 
 Virginia saw his great career begin, 
 Ere manhood's earliest honours deck'd his chin ; 
 What time, a legate through the gloomy grove,f 
 To quench the first- seen spark of war, he strove: 150 
 
 To him so young the task sublime consign'd, 
 Involv'd the peace or war:}: of half mankind. 
 But vain his task. The spark that there began, 
 A fiery deluge through the nations ran. 
 
 Who has not heard, when round our borders far 155 
 
 Encroachments wak'd the colonies to war ; 
 He led a band where band ne'er march'd before. 
 And dyed his maiden steel in savage gore ? 
 Or how, by perils press'd, his growing fame 
 (When captur'd at the fort that drew its name 160 
 
 * General Washington constantly declined receiving any thing from the public, but merely 
 for the purpose of defraying his expenses. At the close of the war he rendered an account 
 to government, in his own hand-writing, of all the public money which had been expended 
 by or for him. 
 
 ) The reader may have recourse to the journal of this mission, printed by authority, for 
 information. 
 
 t The American hero was sent, when very young, by the government of Virginia, to 
 confer with the French commander on the frontiers, and to endeavour, by checking en 
 croachments, to prevent hostilities. These, however , shortly afterwards commenced in that 
 quarter, and extended to all parts of the world.
 
 68 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 From dire NECESSITY*) still higher rose? 
 
 Or how, -when Braddock fell (though hedg'd by foes, 
 
 Though weak with sickness, watching, want of food, 
 
 And midnight wand'ringf in the howling wood) 
 
 He hevv'd a glorious passage, bold, discreet, 165 
 
 And sav'd an army by a sage retreat ? 
 
 So through Misfortune's path the stripling far'd, 
 
 For other fields, by early feats, prepar'd. 
 
 So rose the youthful hero's glory soon 
 
 To blaze and brighten in perennial noon 170 
 
 High o'er each earth-born mist, that frequent shrouds 
 
 Meridian glory in a night of clouds. 
 
 Far roll'd the storm of war, and o'er our scene 
 Then happier days began to shine serene. 
 
 'Twas then he honour'd many a civil trust, 175 
 
 A judge and legislator^: wise and just. 
 In rural cares he plac'd his chief delight, 
 By day his pleasure and his dream by night 
 How sweetly smil'd his eye to view his farms, 
 In produce rich, display unnumber'd charms; 180 
 
 While joys domestic sweeten'd every toil, 
 And his fond partner paid him smile for smile ! 
 
 Now had the hero gain'd life's fairest prime, 
 What time the fathers of the western clime 
 In congress first assembled there his name 185 
 
 Stood midst the foremost on the list of fame. 
 Nor since this sublunary scene began, 
 Have names more glorious grac'd the race of man. 
 At first they hop'd redress, their wrongs made known 
 In mild remonstrance with a manly tone: 190 
 
 In vain they hop'd the parent pow'r would hear; 
 On them she scornful turn'd a deafen'd ear. 
 
 * Fort Necessity, which was commanded by Colonel Washington, after a gallant defence, 
 was surrendered by capitulation. The garrison was allowed to retire to the settlements. 
 
 + On the day of Braddock. >s defeat, young Washington, who was so weak fioui a fever as 
 to be supported by a cushion on his horse, performed the most arduous and meritorious sei- 
 vices. After having conducted the shattered remains of the army across the Monongahela, 
 into a place of safety, he proceeded through the dark and howling wilderness all night, in 
 order to reach the camp of Colonel Dunuai , and obtain the necessary succour as soon ,u 
 possible. On his arrival he fainted, and sufteied a relapse, which lasted for a considerable time. 
 
 t General Washington was, for many years before the revolution, a magistrate or Fairfax 
 county, aad a memb.ii' wf the Legislature of the Jo.uiuiou u Yii jiuia.
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 169 
 
 When reason faiPd, they bade for war prepare, 
 
 And in our country's cause all dangers dare. 
 
 Then Britain's legions (in whose van he strove 195 
 
 In former fight, and seiz'd amid the grove 
 
 That fort* where fair Ohio takes its name) 
 
 In hostile terrors, like a torrent came. 
 
 To us how .strange that hateful strife appear'd, 
 
 To meet as foes whom kindred names endear'dl 200 
 
 No more in woods and swamps the war was wag'd, 
 
 As when our sires the native race engag'd; 
 
 When painted savages from mountains far 
 
 Made vallies howl with hollow whoops of war; 
 
 Or when, in ambush hid, the bow they drew, 205 
 
 And arrowy deaths on silent pinions flew; 
 
 Or when from captive heads the scalps they tore, 
 
 And wav'd the trophies reeking warm with gore. 
 
 But now on broader plains, with banners gay, 
 
 And burnish'd steel that flashes back the day, 210 
 
 In fiercer hosting meet, with mutual fires, 
 
 Two armies sprung from the same warlike sires. 
 
 What though nor ancient arms or armour shed 
 
 A floating splendour round each hero's head; 
 
 What though our eyes no single chief behold, 215 
 
 Come tow'ring arm'd in panoply of gold; 
 
 What though no beamy mail, no sun-bright shields 
 
 Shoot their long lightnings o'er th' astonish'd fields; 
 
 Nor flies the twink'ling steel nor thund'ring car, 
 
 Its wheels whirl redd'ning o'er the ranks of war; 22Q 
 
 New arms more fatal give man's rage new force, 
 
 Where modern tactics turn the battle's course; 
 
 Where discipline through thousands breathes one soul, 
 
 Combines their strength and animates the whole; 
 
 A moving world obeys the leader's nod, 225 
 
 In pomp and prowess likest to a god! 
 
 One spark of martial fire an army warms, 
 
 One breath inspires it and one soul informs. 
 
 As wing'd by wintry winds the horsemen move, 
 
 A running flame that wastes the crackling grove: 230 
 
 The phalanx firm in uniform attire, 
 
 Indissolubly stands a wall of fire : 
 
 * Fort Pitt, formerly called Fort Du duesne, is situated a: the confluence of the rivers 
 Allegany and Monongahela, where the waters assume the name of the Ohio. General Wash 
 ington commanded the Virginia trooyis when this fort was taken in a former war.
 
 170 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 While flames and thunders from the cannon hurl'd, 
 Singe the red air and rock the solid world. 
 
 Then our great Chief was call'd to lead the fight, 235 
 
 A mighty angel arm'd with God's own might! 
 To Washington the wise, prepar'd by heav'n 
 To lead our host, the high command was giv'n. 
 He came obsequious to the sacred call, 
 
 Survey'd the dangers and despis'd them all. 240 
 
 Though in his mind he found no mean resource, 
 He felt the task too great for human force ; 
 And plac'd,* reluctant, of our leaders first, 
 He in the God of battles put his trust. 
 
 Long held th' accomplish 'd Chief the Fabianf name, 245 
 (Nor foes nor friends confest but half his fame) 
 From beauteous Boston drove 'the royal ranks, 
 Their inroads check'd on Hudson's rocky banks, 
 Resolv'd the state to save by wise delay, 
 
 Nor risk our fortunes on one fatal day, 250 
 
 But, when by duty urg'd, with dread delight 
 (Like heav'n's red vengeance rous'd at dead of night) 
 He rush'd to battle. Witness, wide domains ! 
 Ye Jersey hills and Pennsylvania plains I 
 
 Witness, ye war-graves, rising round our coast, 255 
 
 Where rest the bones of half the British host ! 
 Thou, Monmouth, witness through thy waste of sand, 
 The battle bravely fought as wisely plann'd ! 
 
 The sick'ning harvest fail'd in summer's pride, 
 The gaping ground for lack of moisture dried ; 260 
 
 The foliage scorch 'd, the grass untimely sear'd, 
 And dry and dun the late green-swerd appear'd ; 
 When now from Schuylkill's shore in strong array, 
 The royal host through Jersey wind their way ; 
 Full many a league with weary steps retreat, 265 
 
 Through suffocating dust, and drought, and heat: 
 
 * See liis speech in Congress on accepting the office of Commander in Chief. 
 
 + As General Washington was, at one period, erroneously considered by many of his 
 countrymen, as being too much disposed to pursue the Fabian system of war, it was thought 
 the more necessary to attempt to impress the public mind with an idea of his active and enter- 
 prizing character whenever the circumstances would justify such conduct. The battle of 
 Monmouth, and tht siege of York-Town, are particularly selected for that purpose.
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 171 
 
 Columbia, rous'd to intercept their flight, 
 
 Hangs on their rear-guard like the storm of night. 
 
 The dubious dawn o'er Monmouth's plain that shone, 
 Crimson 'd the clouds before the rising sun ; 270 
 
 Where Britain's cavalry, in dreadful length, 
 Stood, sword in hand, a living wall of strength 1 
 Simcoe's videttes by glimm'ring embers move, 
 Like gliding shapes in some enchanted grove : 
 While scatter'd far, at first approach of morn, 275 
 
 Tarleton's light scouts now blew the bugle-horn.* 
 Mean while our troops, observant of their plan, 
 Sounded the matin trump along the van : 
 Straight at the sound, up springs, with nimble speed, 
 The ready rider on the ready steed; 280 
 
 No loath'd delay, no hateful halt occurs, 
 Wheel'd to the charge with all the speed of spurs. 
 Red rose the sun ; the sabres bluely bright 
 Leap'd from their scabbards on his sanguine light. 
 Fairer than beauteous forms young fancy feigns, 285 
 
 Pour'd Britain's squadrons o'er th' embattled plains, 
 From Arab sires commenc'd the lofty breed, 
 Their strength the thunderf and the wind their speed : 
 In Britain's fields they fed, there learn'd to prance 
 In gorgeous ranks, and meet the lifted lance- 290 
 
 No more in Britain's fields to feed at large, 
 Prance in proud ranks and meet in mimic charge- 
 Unconscious of their fate ! to fall in gore, 
 Or toil inglorious on a foreign shore. 
 
 In flank the Chasseur troops less gay were seen, 295 
 
 And false Columbians cloath'd like them in green: 
 Ingrates! to play a patricidal part, 
 And strive to stab their country to the heart J 
 To meet that mingled force, Columbia's steeds, 
 Long pamper 'd high amid her flow'ry meads, 300 
 
 With speed electric rush'd the rapid band, 
 With horny hoofs, uphurl'd th' eddying sand. 
 Then wrapp'd in dust and smoke the fight began, 
 Steed furious springs on steed, and man on man: 
 As fire-balls burst with startling flash at night, *05 
 
 So clash Columbian sabres sparkling bright; 
 
 * Tarleton's legion made use of the tnijle-horn instead of a trumpet. 
 4 Hait thou given the horse strength; Hast thou cloathed his neck with thunder? Job 
 xxxix. 19.
 
 172 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 Mixing with British blades, whose dancing flare 
 
 Makes horrid circles, hissing high in air. 
 
 From steely helms incessant lightnings flash, 
 
 And death sits frequent in the ghastly gash. 310 
 
 With inextinguishable rage, so rush'd 
 
 Both hostile lines, by mutual fury push'd : 
 
 So toil'd in blood, till drain 'd of wonted force, 
 
 Promiscuous fell the rider and the horse. 
 
 Though squadrons hew'd down squadrons, none would yield, 315 
 
 Till signals gave to wider war the field. 
 
 From brazen trains the storm prepares to rise, 
 And dusky wreaths of smoke to shrowd the skies: 
 First silent gloom prevails 'mid clouds of fire, 
 Then deathful engines sound the onset dire. 320 
 
 Now iron balls through less'ning legions bound. 
 Whiz red in air and rock the gory ground : 
 So swells the sound when torrent waters pour 
 On the stunn'd ear th' intolerable roar; ' 
 
 Or when tornadoes black the world assail, 325 
 
 And burst th' eternal magazines of hail. 
 
 Here leads great Washington Columbia's band. 
 The brand of battle blazing in his hand ; 
 Darts his experienc'd eye along the files, 
 
 And o'er the subject-scene superior* smiles. 330 
 
 In front of Britain Clinton's vet'ran form 
 Rides dark as night and louring as a storm; 
 With gibry gain'd in former wars elate, 
 His voice the tempest's and his falchion fate. 
 
 From all her states Columbia's warriors come, 335 
 
 Some lightly arm'd with deadly rifles some 
 These from cerulean mountains hurried down, 
 In fringedf vest succinct, tawney or brown : 
 Beneath their aim the hostile leaders fall, 
 
 For death rides swift th' unseen, unerring ball. 340 
 
 Militia bands, who fought to save their farms, 
 All multiformly march in garb and arms. 
 
 * All those who have seen General Washington on horse-back, at the head of his army, 
 will doubtless bear testimony with the author, that they never saw a more graceful or dig 
 nified person. 
 
 + The companies of Riflemen from the western mountains were generally dressed in hnnt- 
 ig-shirts and trowsers, of fawn aoldur or brown, adorned with fringe.
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 173 
 
 The rest in azure robes, revcrs'd with red, 
 
 Equipp'd alike, to martial music tread. 
 
 Now rang'd, the host in grand divisions stands, 345 
 
 Brigades, battalions, squadrons, troops and bands : 
 
 On either wing the horse (new fbrm'd) appear'd 
 
 In front the Gen'rals ordering loud are heard, 
 
 (While chiefs of corps to pass the order press) 
 
 " To right display the columns march! haltl dress!" 350 
 
 From solid columns lengthening lines now wheel, 
 
 Front form'd to front, and steel oppos'd to steel. 
 
 The hosts stretch opposite in equal length, 
 
 The same their order and the same their strength. 
 
 Two lines had each and corps of strong reserve, 355 
 
 To stay the lines where'er the battle swerve ; 
 
 To turn the hostile flank, the charge sustain, 
 
 To guard the baggage and the batt'ring train. 
 
 A cloud they move a ridge of fire they stand 
 
 And waving banners guide each silent band. 360 
 
 Here shine the silvery stars in mystic trains, 
 
 Fair as their sisters on th' ethereal plains; 
 
 Above our eagle's hoary* head they shine, 
 
 And shed blest influence on each battling line. 
 
 There other ensigns point the British course, 365 
 
 With various emblems,! but united force. 
 
 There frowns the lion's port, conspicuous far ! 
 
 Here harps and thistles lead th' unnatural war : 
 
 O'er hireling troops the German eagles cow'r, 
 
 Intent to lure them to the feast of gore. 370 
 
 Britons with Germans form'd, apart, for fight, 
 
 The left wing rob'd in blue, in red the right; 
 
 On adverse lines their march tremendous bend, 
 
 Where young Columbia's sons their steel protend; 
 
 With seried files receive the rushing foe, 375 
 
 Deal wounds for wounds and parry blow with blow. 
 
 As ocean's billows beat a jutting rock, 
 
 Which unimpair'd receives, repels the shock: 
 
 So Britain's force on firm Columbia broke, 
 
 Which unimpair'd receiv'd, repell'd the stroke. 380 
 
 * Foreigners may not, perhaps, know, without being here informed, that in the armorial 
 bearings of the United States, under the emblematical stars, is the bald eagle a bird peculiar 
 to America. 
 
 f The British regimental colours are ornamented with a lion, the Scotch with a thistle, 
 and the Iiish with a harp the German auxiliary troops bore eagles in their banners. Some 
 of the standards of each of these nations weie taken with the army of Lord CornwallS) at 
 York-Town.
 
 174 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 Those, int'rests not their own, o'er ocean brought, 
 These IN and FOR their native country fought. 
 
 The broad sun risen to meridian height, 
 Diffus'd a flood of heat,* a flood of light ; 
 O'er either battle hung with fearful glare, 385 
 
 Shot burning beams and fir'd the angry air. 
 From both the hosts as some faint soldiers stray, 
 They meet unnerv'd, beneath the scorching day; 
 Victors or Vanquish'd, blighted by his beams, 
 Together sought and drank the scanty streams 390 
 
 Of war unmindful mingled on the heath, 
 They fell but guiltless of each other's death. 
 
 While Britain's foremost line thus early foiPd, 
 Form'd on the second as the ranks recoil'd ; 
 Between the hosts a space now open'd large, 395 
 
 Instant our chief bade sound the general charge. 
 No blythesome lark that chaunts the birth of light, 
 Nor soothing Philomela's notes at night, 
 Nor virgin-voice responsive to her lyre, 
 
 Can like the battle-sound the soul inspire : 400 
 
 Each milder thought in martial transport drown'd, 
 Than music more, there's magic in the sound; 
 Through tingling veins a tide tumultuous rolls 
 Advent'rous valour to heroic souls. 
 
 Swift to the sound he bade the battle move ; 405 
 
 Of Bayonne's bristly pikes an iron grove! 
 Bade livid lightning nearer bosoms singe, 
 The scorch'd skin blacken and the red wound twinge : 
 Bade bick'ring blades in British gore be dyed., 
 And vital crimson flow in many a tide: 410 
 
 Bade leaden hail its vollied vengeance pour, 
 And all the thunder of the battle roar. 
 
 The battle's fate long undecided lay, 
 And deeds immortal grac'd the doubtful day. 
 Some future bard, with rapture-rolling eyes, 415 
 
 His numbers rising as his raptures rise, 
 Sublim'd, proportion'd to his theme, shall tell 
 What glorious heroes for their country fell; 
 
 * The 28th of June, 1778, the day on which the battle of Monmouth was fought, vw- 
 one of the hottest ever known in America. Many soldiers expired from the heat alone.
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 173 
 
 What various feats in different parts were done, 
 
 The trophies gain'd, the cannon lost and won: 420 
 
 Where Lee* in front our light-arm'd legion led, 
 
 How from the giant-grenadiers they fled ; 
 
 From dark oblivion snatch that soldier's wife,f 
 
 Who saw him for his country sell his life ; 
 
 Saw every gunner round the cannon die, 425 
 
 And covering bands, o'erpow'r'd, compcll 'd to fly; 
 
 Then as the foe to seize that cannon came, 
 
 She touch'd the pregnant brass with quick'ning flame, 
 
 And cried " confusion on your heads be hurl'd, 
 
 Here comes our Chief, the glory of the world!" 430 
 
 Him midst his chiefs a bounding courser bore, 
 
 Snorting thick clouds and scatt'ring foam and gore ; 
 
 With placid smile and animating voice, 
 
 That made the wearied warrior's souls rejoice, 
 
 He came conspicuous to his own side far, 435 
 
 And breath 'd fresh vigour through the broken war. 
 
 Columbia, rallying round the godlike form, 
 
 Swept o'er the dry sand like a mountain storm ; 
 
 The chief of chiefs, our foremost band before, 
 
 Bade the dry sand be drunk with hostile gore. 440 
 
 Then mean desires to reach the shelt'ring coast, 
 
 Resistless, seiz'd the faint Britannic host; 
 
 Not captains brave could wonted strength inspire, 
 
 Nor Clinton, fearless 'mid a flood of fire ; 
 
 Who flew from rank to rank their souls to raise, 445 
 
 With thoughts of former deeds and former praise. 
 
 While dread Columbia urg'd the work of death, 
 The foe with palpitations pass'd the heath : 
 The squadron'd steeds that headlong sought the strand, 
 Successive fail'd and bit the gory sand 450 
 
 The foot battalions, wedg'd in firm array, 
 Indissoluble long, pursued their way : 
 But nought that day great Washington withstood, 
 Who sway'd the battle where he rode in blood. 
 As when th' Almighty's messenger of wrath, 455 
 
 Rides in the whirlwind's desolating path, 
 Such flames convulsive shoots his wrathful eye, 
 Th' uprooted groves one broad red ruin lie; 
 
 * General Charles Lee, who had served in former wars in Poland and Portugal. 
 
 + The wife of an artillerist really savtd a piece of cannon in the manner here related.
 
 176 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 The mountains tremble so our hero's form 
 
 Wing'd in his crimson way the battle storm ; 460 
 
 Such prowess shedding through his new-rais'd host, 
 
 As not the foe's long discipline could boast. 
 
 From Britain's rout the sun withdrew his eye 
 The pale moon setting saw the legions fly 
 Now foul disorder, fiight and shameful fear, 46S 
 
 From the scarkl van-guard gain'd the victim rear. 
 Now many a Briton's last campaign was made, 
 His eye-lids clos'd in death's oblivious shade: 
 Jerne's sons, who lov'd our sacred cause, 
 
 There fought as foes and fell without applause: 470 
 
 There many a German, whom his prince had sold, 
 Sunk on the sand and black in carnage roll'd: 
 None knew the bodies though well known before, 
 Deform'd with gashes and besmear'd with gore. 
 Now corses, cannon, cars bestrew'd the soil, 475 
 
 With shatter'd arms and former ill-won spoil : 
 Till Albion's remnants, where the billows roar, 
 Reach'd their tall ships beside the Shrewsb'ry shore. 
 
 What eagle flight can trace through regions far, 
 Th' immortal march of Washington in war ? 480 
 
 Who sing his conq'ring arms o'er York that shone, 
 And deeds surviving monumental* stone? 
 How cloud-hid batt'ries rain'd red bullets dire, 
 Volcanic mortars belch'd infernal fire, 
 
 While baleful bombs that buoy'd in ether rode, 485 
 
 Emblaze the skies, and, fill'd with fate, explode ! 
 Till great Cornwallis, hopeless of relief, 
 Resign'd whole armies to a greater chief? 
 Then solemn thanks by blest Columbia giv'n, 
 With songs of gratitude, rose sweet to heav'n. 499 
 
 What though my lips no common fervour warm'd 
 To sing th' achievements that his arm perform'd ; 
 Though strong as when I follow 'd where he led, 
 Toil'd in his sight, or with his mandates sped, 
 Or bore his trophies to our/ww'r su/ireme^ 49.5 
 
 I sink beneath th' immensitv of theme. 
 
 * A monument was ordered to be erected by Congress, at York-Tuwn, to perpetuate 
 lie remembrance of the surrender of Lord Cornwall's army. 
 * Sec th rtsuluiion of Congres: f the 7th f Xovt inter, 1781. in the appendix.
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. Iff 
 
 Yet might a muse that soars on stronger 1 wing, 
 
 So vast an argument divinely sing; 
 
 Then should the numbers rise as heav'n sublime, 
 
 Defy the ravage of corroding time, 500 
 
 Make late posterity his deeds admire, 
 
 And raptur'd bosoms burn with more than mortal fil'e. 
 
 Yes, earth shall know what arm the strife maintain'd, 
 And who the palm of independence gain'd. 
 'Twas that blest meed, to Washington so dear, 505 
 
 Sustain'd his efforts through the dread career. 
 Shall I, who knew the secrets of his soul, 
 His smother'd anguish ere he reach'd the goal; 
 W T hen faint, with sickness visited by heav'n, 
 His feeble band before the foe was driv'n 510 
 
 (Their snow-tracks* stain'd with blood their limbs by frost 
 Benumb'd) defeated all but honour lost; 
 When scarcely hope surviv'd the chilling blast 
 And every hour of freedom seem'd the last- 
 Shall I not tell how firm he met the shock, 515 
 Impassable his breast, a diamond rock? 
 
 Though all the fortunes of Columbia lay 
 (If forc'd to combat) on one desp'rate day; 
 Though for his country's cause so wrapp'd in gloom, 
 The patriot felt the hero brav'd his doom 520 
 
 If vanquish'd, conscious of their destin'd state, 
 Slavery the country's his a rebel's fate! 
 Yet, not the threats of death to slavery join'd, 
 Could shake one settled purpose of his mind. 
 Stern independence steel'd his stubborn breast 525 
 
 Unmov'd, by more than mountains weight opprest, 
 Remain'd the matchless soul unmov'd alone 
 Th' unconquerable soul of Washington. 
 
 Nor were his feelings tortur'd but by foes, 
 He keenly felt his army's wants and woes. 530 
 
 What time, unpaid, ill-clothed for years entire, 
 Our war-worn legions felt distresses dire ; 
 
 * This alludes, in a particular manner, to the forlorn condition of the American army 
 during the winter campaign of 1777. 
 
 2A
 
 rs ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 Some mutinous unknown,* in friendship's guise, 
 
 Taught black revolt and bade the tunlult rise : 
 
 To meet the malice of his secret pen, 53& 
 
 Mild in the midst uprose the first of men. 
 
 The storm was hush'd. The patriot legions prov'd 
 
 How much their country and their chief they lov'd: 
 
 Still could his country in each crisis boast 
 
 His word her treasure and his name a host. 540 
 
 All dangers brav'd ; long toils and ills endur'd, 
 Our cause triumphant and our rights secur'd; 
 Then peace, returning from her native heav'n, 
 Saw ruthless war and red destruction driv'n 
 Far from our coast ; and view'd reviving arts 545 
 
 With promis'd blessings glad our grateful hearts. 
 
 Soon show'd our chief, retiring to his farms, 
 The jiomp, of fioiv'r for him displayed no charms; 
 He show'd th' ambitious^ who would mount a throne^ 
 Greatness is seated in the mind alone. $50 
 
 With what delight his homeward course he sped, 
 With all his country's blessings on his head! 
 Our revolution to conclusion brought, 
 His public toils complete he vainly thought; 
 But heav'n reserv'd him for more glorious deeds, $55 
 
 Whose height the scope of human praise exceeds. 
 
 In peace, our perils drew not to a close, 
 While 'midst ourselves we found more dang'rous foes. 
 Remember ye, the storm of battle o'er, 
 
 What other tempests lour'd along the shore ! 560 
 
 By gusts of faction how the States were tost, 
 The feeble links of federation lost ! 
 How round the land despondency prevail'd, 
 And bosoms bold in battle then first fail'd ! 
 
 * The transaction here alluded to occurred at the cantonment of the army, nearNew- 
 bnrgh, State of New-York, in the winter 1782 3. For the particulars of this extraordinary, 
 vent, a reference must be made to the anonymous letters which were intended to excite 3 
 mutiny, for the purpose of forcing Congress to pay the arrearages due to the troops 'to the 
 address of General Washington, and to the resolutions passed by the delegates of the army 
 an the occasion. When General Washington rose from bed on the morning of the meeting, 
 he told the writer his anxiety had prevented him from sleeping one moment the preceding 
 night.
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 179 
 
 As hoarse with rage th' Atlantic roars and raves, 565 
 
 And heaves on high his multitude of waves, 
 What time the storm, by angry spirits hurl'd, 
 Rocks the foundations of the watery world: - 
 So rag'd the storm of anarchy the crowd 
 By demagogues excited, mad and loud, 570 
 
 Their Pandemonium held no more was seen 
 The calm debate till Washington serene 
 From every State conven'd the chosen sires, 
 Where Penn's fair city lifts her gilded spires. 
 In every breast the patriot-passion glow'd, 575 
 
 While strains of eloquence unequall'd flow'd ; 
 W T hile on each brow deliberation sate, 
 'Twas he presided* in the grand debate. 
 Thence, form'd by sages, sanction'd by his name, 
 To save us from ourselves a compact came. 580 
 
 A Constitution fram'd on Freedom's plan, 
 Now guards with balanc'd pow'rs the rights of man, 
 Alike from monarchy and mobs remov'd, 
 Its checks well-plann'd, and by each State approv'd: 
 The people (soon to gladness chang'd their grief) 585 
 
 Turn'd every eye upon their ancient chief. 
 
 To the first office call'd by every voice, 
 His will submissive to his country's choice; 
 By reason's force reluctance overcome, 
 
 Behold him meekly leave his darling home j <S90 
 
 Again resign the calm of rural life, 
 Again embarking on a sea of strife ! 
 Since deeds so recent in your breasts are grav'd, 
 Why should I tell our country how he sav'd ! 
 How 'midst still rising storms he persever'd, 595 
 
 And through a sea of troubles safely steer'd ! 
 
 The tricks of state his soul indignant scorn'dj 
 Thence candid policy his sway adorn 'd: 
 Faith, honour, justice, honesty his aim, 
 
 And truth and Washington were but one name. 600 
 
 When war arose in many a foreign land, 
 A firm neutrality his wisdom planned j 
 
 * General Washington was President of tlie Convention which formed tbc present ConSjl* 
 
 union of tl.e United States
 
 180- ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 Though warring pow'rs alternate show'd their 
 At length they own'd the system just and sage. 
 
 While insurrection's* imps were seen to fly 605 
 
 The flashing terrors of his angry eye j 
 O'er them humanity triumphant smil'd, 
 For not the stain of blood the triumph soil'd. 
 
 Though fortitude for him new-strung each nerve, 
 Nor worlds could make him from his duty swerve ; 610 
 
 Yet mercy, loveliest attribute divine, 
 And mild compassion,f Washington T were thine. 
 Thy voice, humanity ! he still rever'd, 
 Thy small voice 'mid the roar of battle heard. 
 To him his fellows, ev'n though foes, were dear, 615 
 
 And vict'ry's joy was chasten'd with a tear. 
 Beneath his tent in war the wretched found 
 Ease from each woe, and balm for every wound. 
 The conquer'd savage, prowling through the wild, 
 A foe no more he foster'd as a child 620 
 
 He bade constructed mills abridge the toil 
 For wond'ring tribes ; new harvests deck the soil ; 
 And taught, to wean them from the scalping-knife,J 
 The works of peace and arts of civil life. 
 
 Where that foul stain of manhood, slavery, flow'd 625 
 
 Through Afric's sons transmitted in the blood; 
 Hereditary slaves his kindness shar'd, 
 For manumission by degrees prepar'd : 
 Return'd from war, I saw them round him press,$ 
 And all their speechless glee by artless signs express. 630 
 
 * None but strangers to the history of the United States will require to be informed, that 
 an allusion is here made to the happy suppression of the insurrection on account of the ex 
 cise law. 
 
 + Authentic documents, respecting the case of Captain Asgill, in proof of this, have been 
 long since published others might be produced. Too much praise cannot be bestowed on 
 the system adopted, during the first Presidency, of furnishing gratuitously to the Indians, 
 instruments of agriculture, and utensils for domestic use, with the design of introducing 
 husbandry, arts, and civilization among them, after they had been reduced, by force of 
 arms, to the necessity of accepting terms of peace from us. This was effected by the forces 
 under the command of General Wayne. 
 
 t A barbarous war-instrument, peculiar to the savages of America. 
 
 } General Washington, by his will, liberated all his negroes, making an ample provision 
 for the support of the old, and the education of the young. The interesting scene of hii- 
 return home, at which UK author was present, is described exactly as it existed.
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 181. 
 
 When, nigh ador'd, too great to need parade, 
 He through the States his pleasing progress made; 
 What gratulations pure the patriot met! 
 What cheeks with tears of gratitude were wet ! 
 While useful knowledge from each State be gain'd, 635 
 
 Prais'd their improvements and their bliss explain'd; 
 While bridges, roads, canals, in every State, 
 And growing fabrics own'd his influence great; 
 Such goodness mark'd each act, in every place 
 He left impressions time can ne'er efface. 640 
 
 Then rose the favour'd States beneath his smile, 
 Adorn'd, enrich'd, and strength en 'd by his toil; 
 Then millions felt what happiness* ensued, 
 And hail'd their country's father great and good! 
 
 Their vote erst gave rewards for vict'ry just, 645* 
 
 The storied medalf and the laurell'd bust::}: 
 But now he saw his fame in peace expand, 
 Grow with his years and reach each farthest land. 
 
 Though chiefly doom'd to light our nation's birth, 
 Our luminary rose to bless the earth. 650 
 
 His mind by human frailties scarcely stain 'd, 
 One spotless course of rectitude maintain 'd: 
 His mind, a moral sun, with cheering ray, 
 Rejoic'd to scatter intellectual day, 
 
 A light among the nations shining clear, 655 
 
 To gild the darkness in each hemisphere f 
 Say, dazzling conq'i'ors 1 who as comets glar'd, rf 
 
 How mean your splendour when to his compar'd! 
 Nor cold his mind. When cold his count'nance seem'd, 
 Within, concent'ring rays still brighter beam'd. 66$ 
 
 * See Letters I. II. and III. in the Appendix. 
 
 + The medal voted by Congress to General Washington, in consequence of the evacua 
 tion of Boston by the British army, as well as that to Genera! Gates, for the Convention of 
 Saratoga, and that to General Greene, for the battle of Eutaw-Springs, were executed by 
 the first artists at Paris, under the direction of the author of this Poem, who availed himself 
 of the talents of the celebrated Abbe Barthelemy, and the Academy of Belles Lettres and 
 Inscriptions, to assist in furnishing the devices and inscriptions. 
 
 t The statue voted by Congress to the Commander in Chief of the American armies, at 
 the close of the war, is to be placed at the seat of government. The State society of the 
 Cincinnati in New-York, in concurrence with their fellow citizens, are engaged in procuring 
 an equestrian statue of General Washington, in Bronze, to be erected in the Park of thac 
 city; an example which will probably be followed by many of the principal towns in the 
 United States.
 
 182 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 Such moderation with such firmness mix'd, 
 
 Just in the golden mean his conduct fix'd ; 
 
 Alike with feeling, as with patience, blest, 
 
 The proud oppressor and the poor opprest 
 
 He taught, that man full oft by man betray'd, 665 
 
 By heav'n for social happiness was made 
 
 He taught, how long a nation wrongs may bear, 
 
 And when th" unknown of innovation dare 
 
 He taught mankind (if truth can make them wise) 
 
 That for self-government their pow'rs suffice. 670 
 
 Then duty's task and glory's toils complete, 
 He sought fair Vernon's shades, his fond retreat 1 
 JFrom stormy care to calm content retir'd, 
 Consol'd by conscience and by men admir'd ; 
 He, like the sun whose broader orb at ev'n 6/5 
 
 Sheds brighter glories from the verge of heav'n, 
 The clouds his heat had rais'd in rainbows drest, 
 Descended great and glorious to the west. 
 
 Ev'n then his country heard o'er ocean far, 
 The coming sounds of predatory war : 680 
 
 Again her voice his martial service claims, 
 Oh ! best of heroes ! best of patriot names ! 
 Thy last obedience crowns thy precious life. 
 " But who shall lead us to the glorious strife?" 
 Exclaim our mourning bands, as o'er thy bier 685 
 
 They bend, and bathe it with a frequent tear. 
 Fear not his spirit, still the soldier's friend, 
 Shall in your front on some brave chief descend; 
 And 'mid the thunder of the war inspire 
 In every breast a spark of heav'n's own fire. 690 
 
 Thus pass'd his useful life, by foes approv'd, 
 By nations honour'd, and by heav'n belov'd. 
 Yet blushing truth must tell with deep regret, 
 What opposition from a few he met; 
 
 While conscious virtue, on his visage laught 695 
 
 At slander's quiver, and defied the shaft.* 
 No vulgar mark appear'd his brilliant fame 
 O'er him fell slander hung with foulest aim. 
 
 * See Letter IV. in the AppcnJ*.
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 183 
 
 No more that fiend of malice, madd'ning stands ; 
 
 No more the monster lifts briarean hands, 700 
 
 Shakes all his shafts, and, steep'd in venom, flings 
 
 At him invulnerable, poison'd stings 
 
 Since virtue's sons have dash'd those shafts accurst, 
 
 And spurn'd the monster foaming in the dust. 
 
 When late he bade to public life adieu, 70S 
 
 Supernal visions opening on his view ; 
 Ye heard the last advice your guardian gave, 
 Ye heard his words when bord'ring on the grave : 
 What truths experience taught you from his tongue, 
 When in your ears such awful warnings rung? 710 
 
 " To follow virtue never, never cease, 
 Her path is pleasant, and its end is peace : 
 Oh, cultivate blest union, but on this 
 Relies your freedom, independence, bliss. 
 WTio sees a foreign policy prevail, 715 
 
 Must see thy promis'd bliss, Columbia! fail; 
 Must see thy goodly heritage, that day, 
 The prize of factions or of war the prey." 
 What MORTAL truths more sacred spake of old, 
 Jnspir'd by heav'n ! The words are grav'd in gold. 720 
 
 Then say what chief has nobler trophies won ? 
 What godlike patriot deeds more glorious done ? 
 Who more the secret foes of union foil'd ? 
 For independence more successful toil'd ? 
 
 To love our country more the mind prepar'd? 725 
 
 'Gainst foreign influence plac'd a stronger guard? 
 In education* form'd a wiser plan, 
 To guard inviolate the rights of man ? 
 Who better could our path to bliss explore? 
 And whose whole life has honour'd virtue more? 730 
 
 What other sage, by equal ardour warm'd, 
 Such signal service for mankind perform 'd? 
 Wide as the world shall spread his deathless fame, 
 While boundless generations bless the name, 
 In bright example shown. Yc good I ye brave ! 735 
 
 Come learn with him to triumph o'er the grave. 
 
 * Se General Washington's will, which he treats of a national university and a na 
 tional education.
 
 184 ON THE, DEATH OF > 
 
 Cheer'd by that lore not Greece or Rome could teach, 
 
 That lore divine beyond our reason's reach; 
 
 Bid comfort come (ere grief prevail too long) 
 
 And exultation join the seraph song, 740 
 
 While spirits of the just made perfect sing, 
 
 " Where is thy vict'ry, grave! where, death! thy sting?" 
 
 On him death's hovering dart could strike no dread, 
 Or in the battle-field or sickness-bed : 
 
 For there I saw him far too great for fear, 745 
 
 Still greater grow as danger drew more near. 
 
 How fond and vain th' anticipation sweet, 
 Beneath thy friendly shades once more to meet!* 
 Oh, best of friends! still had I hop'd to view 
 Thy face once more, and all my joys renew. 750 
 
 But heav'n those joys, too perfect, turn'd to pains, 
 And one sad duty only now remains, 
 That I, while yet thy widow'd mate survive, 
 That comfort which I want, should strive to give. 
 
 Thou, long his solace, in this vale of tears, 755 
 
 ' Wife of his youth! his joy twice twenty years! 
 Though all this empty world can give or take, 
 On thy lorn heart can small sensation make ; 
 Though not the trophied tomb can sooth thy grief, 
 Or well-earn'd praise can give thy pangs relief: 760 
 
 Yet see whence higher consolations flow, 
 And dry at length th' unceasing tear of woe. 
 Where his freed spirit tastes the bliss above, 
 Unfailing feast, beatitude and love ! 
 
 Soon shalt thou meet him on th' immortal coast, 765 
 
 And all thy grief in ecstacy be lost. 
 
 A few more times th' expanded moon shall rise, 
 And walk in brightness up the eastern skies ; 
 With varying face diffuse her waning beams, 
 And cast on earth her chill and watery gleams ; 770 
 
 A few more times the ruddy sun shall lave, 
 And dip his dim orb in the western wave ; 
 Ere yet our spirits try their heav'n-ward flight, 
 From these dull regions of surrounding night ; 
 
 * 8e Letters IV. and V. in the Appendix.
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 185 
 
 Ere for the present race the scene be o'er, 775 
 
 Death sweep the stage and time shall be no more. 
 
 What though ere yet a few short years revolve, 
 This earthly tabernacle must dissolve 
 What though the flesh, abandon'd, rest in dust- 
 Sweet is the memory of the good and just. 78Q 
 Then shall (unfetter 'd from the pris'ning tomb) 
 This mortal immortality assume; 
 The better part to brighter mansions fly, 
 Mansions, not made with hands, eternal in the sky 1 
 
 Then shall we rest forlorn beyond relief, 785 
 
 Dumb in despair and stupified with grief? 
 To drear forgetfulness consign our friends, 
 And lose the hope " that being never ends?" 
 That prop imperishable prone on earth, 
 
 The spring of action and reward of worth ! 790 
 
 What! shall we faint? nor give to faith its scope? 
 Shall we remain as mourners without hope ? 
 And shall not hope celestial sooth these sighs? 
 Are there not crowns and triumphs in the skies? 
 Think ye, now fate has cut the vital thread, 79$ 
 
 Th' immortal Washington is wholly dead? 
 Though cold in clay the mortal members lie, 
 Mounts not th' immortal mind to worlds on high? 
 Ev'n that lost form shall rise from kindred dust, 
 Fair in the renovation of the just. 800 
 
 From conflagrated orbs in atoms hurl'd, 
 Anon shall spring a renovated world 
 That world, for suff'ring man, of bright rewards, 
 Thus fir'd the song of heav'n-illumin'd bards. 
 
 u Let all creation fail," the prophets sung, 805 
 
 While holy rapture trembled on their tongue ; 
 " Let rocks dissolve, seas roar, and mountains nod, 
 And all things tremble to the throne of God 
 Matter and motion cease from nature's course, 
 Her laws controul'd by some superior force 810 
 
 To final ruin, stars and comets rush, 
 Suns suns consume and systems systems crush 
 These heav'ns stretch'd visible, together roll 
 Inflam'd, and vanish like a burning scroll 
 
 2B
 
 186 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 Though death, and night, and chaos rule the ball, 815 
 
 Though nature's self decay -the soul, o'er all, 
 
 Survives the wrecks of matter and of time, 
 
 Shrin'd in immortal youth and beauty's prime j 
 
 High o'er the bounds of this diurnal sphere, 
 
 To bloom and bask in heav'n's eternal year." 820 
 
 Where uncreated light no sun requires, 
 And other splendours beam unborrow'd fires ; 
 On our lov'd chief, long tried in virtue's toils, 
 With bliss ineffable the Godhead smiles 
 In the full blaze of day, his angel-frame 825 
 
 For ever shines another and the same. 
 
 Heroic chiefs ! who, fighting by his side, 
 Liv'd for your country, for your country died 
 If ye behold us from the holy place, 
 
 *^ Angels and spirits, ministers of grace," 830 
 
 And sainted forms, who, erst incarnate strove, 
 Through thorny paths to reach the bliss above 1 
 Protect our orphan'd land, propitious still, 
 To virtue guide us and avert from ill ! 
 
 Ancient of days I unutterable name! 835 
 
 At whose command all worlds from nothing came; 
 Beneath whose frown the nations cease to be 
 Preserve, as thou hast made, our nation free ! 
 To guard from harms send forth thy hallow'd band! 
 Be thou a wall of fire around our land, 840 
 
 Above the frail assaults of flesh and sense ! 
 And in the midst our glory and defence ! 
 
 Open, ye gates, instinct with vital force, 
 That earth with heaven may hold high intercourse ! 
 Open, ye portals of eternal day ! 845 
 
 Through worlds of light prepare the glorious way ! 
 Come, sens of bliss, in bright'ning clouds reveal'd, 
 Myriads of angels throng th' aerial field ! 
 Come, sainted hosts ! and from thy happier home, 
 Thou, Washington ! our better angel ! come. 850 
 
 And, lo ! what vision bursts upon my sight, 
 Rob'd in th' unclouded majesty of light? 
 'Tis he and hark ! I hear, or seem to hear, 
 A more than mortal voice invade my ear ;
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 187 
 
 " To me," the vision cries, " to speak is giv'n, 855 
 
 Mortals ! attend the warning voice of heav'n: 
 
 Your likeness love ! adore the pow'r divine ! 
 
 So shall your days be blest, your end like mine! 
 
 So will Omnipotence your freedom guard, 
 
 And bliss unbounded be your great reward!" 860
 
 OCCASIONAL POEMS,

 
 OCCASIONAL POEMS. 
 
 ELEGY 
 
 ON THE 
 
 BURNING OF F AIRFIELD, IN CONNECTICUT. 
 
 Written in 1779, on the Spot where that Town stood. 
 
 JL E smoking ruins, marks of hostile ire, 
 
 Ye ashes warm, which drink the tears that flow, 
 Ye desolated plains, my voice inspire, 
 And give soft music to the song of woe. 
 
 How pleasant, Fairfield, on th' enraptur'd sight 
 Rose thy tall spires, and op'd thy social halls! 
 
 How oft my bosom beat with pure delight, 
 
 At yonder spot where stand the darken 'd walls ! 
 
 But there the voice of mirth resounds no more, 
 
 A silent sadness through the streets prevails : 
 The distant main alone is heard to roar, 
 
 And hollow chimnies hum with sullen gales- 
 Save where scorch'd elms th' untimely foliage shed, 
 
 Which, rustling, hovers round the faded green- 
 Save where, at twilight, mourners frequent tread, 
 
 'Mid recent graves o'er desolation's scene. 
 
 How chang'd the blissful prospect, when compar'd, 
 These glooms funereal, with thy former bloom, 
 
 Thy hospitable rights when Tryon shar'd, 
 Long ere he seal'd thy melancholy doom ! 
 
 That impious wretch, with coward voice decreed 
 Defenceless domes and hallo w'd fanes to dust; 
 
 Beheld, with sneering smile, the wounded bleed, 
 And spurr'd his bands to rapine, blood and lust.
 
 192 ON THE BURNING OF FAIRFIELD. 
 
 Vain was the widow's, vain the orphan's cry, 
 To touch his feelings, or to sooth his rage 
 
 Vain the fair drop that roll'd from beauty's eye, 
 Vain tiie dumb grief of supplicating age. 
 
 Could Tryon hope to quench the patriot flame, 
 Or make his deeds survive in glory's page ? 
 
 Could Britons seek of savages the fame, 
 Or deem it conquest, thus the war to wage ? 
 
 Yes, Britons ! scorn the councils of the skies, 
 Extend wide havock, spurn th' insulted foes; 
 
 Th' insulted foes to tenfold vongeance rise, 
 Resistance growing as the danger grows. 
 
 Red in their wounds, and pointing to the plain, 
 The visionary shapes before me stand 
 
 The thunder bursts, the battle burns again, 
 And kindling fires encrimson all the strand. 
 
 Long dusky wreaths of smoke, reluctant driv'n, 
 In black 'ning volumes o'er the landscape bend: 
 
 Here the broad splendour blazes high to heav'n, 
 There umber'd streams in purple pomp ascend. 
 
 In fiery eddies, round the tott'ring walls, 
 Emitting sparks, the lighter fragments fly ; 
 
 With frightful crash the burning mansion falls, 
 The works of years in glowing embers lie, 
 
 Tryon, behold thy sanguine flames aspire, 
 Clouds ting'd with dyes intolerable bright; 
 
 Behold, well pleas'd, the village wrapt in fire ; 
 Let one wide ruin glut thy ravish 'd sight 1 
 
 Ere fades the grateful scene, indulge thine eye, 
 See age and sickness, tremulously slow, 
 
 Creep from the flames see babes in torture die, 
 And mothers swoon in agonies of woe. 
 
 Go, gaze, enraptur'd with the mother's tear, 
 The infant's terror, and the captive's pain, 
 
 Where no bold bands can check thy curst career; 
 Mix fire with blood on each unguarded plain !
 
 ELEGY ON LIEUTENANT DE HART. 198 
 
 These be thy triumphs! this thy boasted fame I 
 Daughters of mem'ry, raise the deathless songs ! 
 
 Repeat through endless years his hated name, 
 Embalm his crimes, and teach the world our wrongs. 
 
 ELEGY 
 
 ON 
 
 LIEUTENANT DE HART,* 
 
 Volunteer Aid to General Wayne. 
 
 W HEN Autumn, all humid and drear, 
 
 With darkness and storms in his train, 
 Announcing the death of the year, 
 
 DespoiPd of its verdure the plain: 
 When horror congenial prevail'd, 
 
 Where graves are with fearfulness trod, 
 De Hart by his sister was wail'd; 
 
 His sister thus sigh'd o'er his sod: 
 
 Near Hudson, a fort, on these banks, 
 
 " Its flag of defiance unfurPd: 
 " He led to the storm the first ranks ; 
 
 " On them iron tempests were hurl'd. 
 " Transpierc'd was his breast with a ball 
 
 " His breast a red fountain supply'd, 
 " Which, gushing m waves still and small, 
 
 " Distain'd his white bosom and side. 
 
 K His visage was ghastly in death, 
 
 " His hair, that so lavishly curl'd, 
 " I saw, as he lay on the heath, 
 
 " In blood, and with dew-drops impearl'd. 
 " How dumb is the tongue that could speak 
 
 " Whate'er could engage and delight! 
 " How faded the rose on his cheek ! 
 
 " Those eyes, how envelop'd in night! 
 
 This young warrior was killed in ;hc attack, on the block-house, near Fort Lee, 1780. 
 2C
 
 194 ELEGY ON LIEUTENANT DE HART 
 
 " Those eyes, that illumin'd each soul, 
 
 " All darken 'd to us are now grown : 
 " In far other orbits they roll, 
 
 " Like stars to new systems when gone. 
 " My brother, the pride of the plain, 
 
 " In vain did the graces adorn ; 
 " His blossom unfolded in vain, 
 
 " To die like the blossom of morn. 
 
 " Oh war ! thou hast wasted our clime, 
 
 " And tor'uir'd my bosom with sighs ; 
 " My brother, who fell ere his prime, 
 
 " For ever is torn from my eyes. 
 " To me, how distracting the storm, 
 
 " That blasted the youth in his bloom! 
 " Alas ! was so finish'd a form 
 
 " Design'd for so early a tomb ? 
 
 " How bright were the prospects that shone ! 
 
 " Their ruin 'tis mine to deplore 
 " Health, beauty, and youth were his own ; 
 
 " Health, beauty, and youth are no more. ' 
 " No blessings of nature and art, 
 
 " Nor music that charm'd in the song$ 
 " Nor virtues that glow'd in the heart, 
 
 " Dear youth, could thy moments prolong ! 
 
 u Thrice six times the spring had renew 'd 
 
 " Its youth and its charms for the boy : 
 " With rapture all nature he view'd, 
 
 " For nature he knew to enjoy. 
 " But chiefly his country could charm : 
 
 " He felt 'twas a generous heat 
 " With drums and the trumpet's alarm, 
 
 " His pulses in consonance beat. 
 
 " Ye heroes, to whom he was dear, 
 
 " Come weep o'er this sorrowful urn, 
 " Come ease the full heart with a tear 
 
 " My hero will never return : 
 " He died in the dawn of applause, 
 
 " His country demanded his breath ; 
 u Go, heroes, defend the same cause, 
 
 " Avenge, with your country, his death."
 
 EPITAPH ON ALEXANDER SCAMMEL. 195 
 
 So sung on the top of the rocks, 
 
 The virgin in sorrow more fair ; 
 In tears her blue eyes ; and her locks 
 
 Of auburn flew loose in the air. 
 I heard, as I pass'd down the stream ; 
 
 The guards of the foe were in view: 
 To enterprize fir'd by the theme, 
 
 I bade the sweet mourner adieu. 
 
 AN 
 
 EPITAPH. 
 
 ALEXANDER SCAMMEL, 
 Adjutant-General of the American Armies, 
 
 and 
 Colonel of the first regiment of New-Hampshire, 
 
 while 
 
 he commanded 
 a chosen corps of light infantry, 
 
 at the 
 successful siege of York-Town, in Virginia, 
 
 was, 
 
 in the gallant performance of his duty, 
 
 as field officer of the day, 
 
 unfortunately captured, 
 
 and 
 
 afterward insidiously wounded; 
 
 of which wound he expired at Williamsburgh, October, 1781. 
 Anno 
 
 Though no kind angel glanc'd aside the ball, 
 Nor fed'ral arms pour'd vengeance for his fall: 
 Brave Scammel's fame, to distant regions known, 
 Shall last beyond this monumental stone, 
 Which conqu'ring armies (from their toils return'd) 
 Rear'd to his glory, while his fate they mourn 'd.
 
 ( 196 ) 
 A 
 
 LETTER 
 
 TO 
 
 A YOUNG LADY IN BOSTON, 
 
 Dated at New-Haven, April, 1780. 
 
 INSPIR'D with hope of giving pleasure, 
 By tale disastrous, told in measure ; 
 I mean, dear miss, from facts diurnal, 
 To write a kind of sleighing journal} 
 And minute how I came across, back 
 From Pomfret to the Sound on horseback. 
 
 Suppose (to save the pain of parting) 
 Your friends (the trouble past of starting) 
 Far on their way the muse will find us 
 Our hearts, with you, as far behind us: 
 No wonder, then, we soon were lost on 
 The roads that go direct from JJoston, 
 And came, erroneous whei*e they lead in, 
 From Brush-Hill down to Dedham -meeting ; 
 From whence we turn'd our steeds to Wrentham, 
 And drove as if the devil sent 'em, 
 Till nine nor made a single check first 
 At nine, we stopp'd to take our breakfast. 
 
 Here I might use poetic fiction, 
 With all the tropes and flow'rs of diction, 
 To change (since flatt'ry half our trade is) 
 The tavern-girls to sky-born ladies: 
 Or give, in number new and rare, 
 With Homer's fire, a bill of fare ; 
 Or turn, with Ovid's art bewitching, 
 To rooms of state, a bar or kitchen : 
 But facts, perhaps, by way of letter, 
 May shorter be express'd and better; 
 As, how the woman first denied us 
 A breakfast ; how she scowl'd and eyed us ; 
 And how we slily manag'd matters, 
 And coax'd the dame, and squeez'd the daughters; 
 Till breakfast serv'd, with kinder looks, 
 Left no pretext to kiss the cooks.
 
 LETTER TO A YOUNG LADY. 
 
 Our meal complete 'ere we departed, 
 We paid the club then off we started 
 But now the clouds began to low'r, 
 And threat of rain no drizzly show'r: 
 It dropp'd we came to Attleborough 
 The mist increas'd, as did our sorrow. 
 
 I cannot choose, with Homer's haste, 
 To say, " we snatch'd a short repast." 
 We dm'd, and spent an hour in reading 
 The news from hence, through show'rs proceeding 
 To Providence 'ere it grew dark, 
 Your friend, the major,* call'd on Clark, 
 Deliver'd your commands in form, 
 Then came to Rice's in the storm; 
 For now the storm, that long impended, 
 In downright cataracts descended. 
 
 Here I must take, for episodes, 
 Such as I find by no means gods 
 For here some half-score strangers met, 
 I never saw a stranger set : 
 Our pleasant scene may soon be sketch'd, 
 We stretcli'd and yawn'd then yawn'd and stretch'd. 
 
 With doubts (where one can clear the mystery) 
 I would not puzzle future history: 
 At dawn (the fact you might suppose) 
 We wak'd got up put on our clothes: 
 And then, to use our technics arch, 
 Again took up our line of march, 
 Through paths of snovv, too thin and soft, 
 Our horses flounder 'd deep and oft: 
 Sev'n miles we drove, not over fast, 
 And reach'd the eighth the eighth and last , 
 
 Thou muse, oft call'd at latest shift, 
 To help poor bards at some dead lift; 
 Now, let thy succours not be scanted, 
 They ne'er can be more sadly wanted; 
 Come to our aid, thou muse of fire, 
 And drag us through the rhime and mire ! 
 
 * Major D. Putnam, an Aid-dc-Camp to Msjor-Oeneral Putnam, as was tbe authtr.
 
 198 LETTER TO A YOUNG LADY. 
 
 No vagrant wights, or true knights-errant, 
 E'er saw such perils, I dare warrant ; 
 Not Homer's hero fac'd such dangers, 
 By land or sea, with friends or strangers; 
 Not Bunyan's pilgrim found such pond, 
 Quite badly wet in Slough Despond ; 
 Nor Satan, in his various way, was 
 So plagued (as Milton sings) in chaos; 
 Nor ev'n the son of old Anchises 
 Was brought to such a fatal crisis, 
 No Charon here, we found to ferry us 
 Over a villain lake, like Erebus. 
 
 The dismal vale we now 'gan enter, 
 And down we plung'd towards the centre- 
 Above mid-sides the horses slump in, 
 Nor stir a step, except by jumping 
 Again they plunge and here full sadly 
 For our poor driver, honest Bradley, 
 The pole snapp'd short then quickly falling, 
 It went down, with the horses, all in 
 The worst of scrapes to make the best on, 
 And raise the pole, was now the question 
 Bradley (hence nam'd the lion-hearted) 
 His utmost skill and strength exerted: 
 While poles we placed across the slough, 
 And got it out the Lord knows how , 
 Then, many a fruitless effort tried, 
 We reach'd, half drown'd, the other side. 
 
 The muse invok'd, who sat on bench, 
 In guise most like a mortal wench, 
 In our misfortunes wet her wings, 
 And therefore soars not, though she sings : 
 That muse, no doubt, with little striving, 
 Might learn the true sublime of diving ; 
 Ev'n now she tells, how, thick and faster, 
 Disaster crowded on disaster ; 
 To reach a house how hard we work'd, 
 The horses mir'd, and tir'd, and cork'd, 
 Till neighbours came, with kind assistance, 
 And drew the sleigh, by hand, some distance.
 
 LETTER TO A YOUNG LADY. 199 
 
 As when a sailor, long the sport 
 Of winds and waves, arrives in port, 
 He joys, although the vessel's stranded, 
 To find himself alive and landed: 
 Not less our glee, nor less our courage, 
 To find a cot, where we found porridge ; 
 And where three days ourselves we found, 
 (To try our patience) weather bound. 
 
 Each plan to move in council stated, 
 Was pass'd rejected re-debated. 
 
 Here one might fall to moralizing 
 Upon some theme which most seem wise in : 
 Ye, who for human nature stickle, 
 Come learn that man is frail and fickle, 
 The sport, or bubble altogether, 
 Of fire and water, wind and weather ! 
 
 It now grew cold the path was frozen, 
 To part the hour of midnight chosen 
 Our matters all, at length, adjusted, 
 Th' event to Providence we trusted. 
 
 The rubs and jostlings of that night, 
 Were more by half than I shall write: 
 Can things like these in rhime be written! 
 How by a dog my friend was bitten ; 
 How Bradley tore a piece of skin, 
 Like fiafier dollar, from his shin ; 
 And how your bard, 'ere he was seated, 
 His better finger dislocated; 
 How h< aviiy the horses drew 
 The sleigh ; and how they dragg'd it through 
 A mire from whence (remains no doubt) 
 The very bottom had dropp'd out; 
 And lastly, how, to make us fret, 
 The sleigh was fairly overset; 
 Beset with ills, we rode by moon-light, 
 Till that was gone and then 'twas soon light. 
 
 The sun, to our new world now present, 
 Brought on the day benign and pleasant;
 
 200 LETTER TO A YOUNG LADY. 
 
 The day, by milder fates attended, 
 Our plagues at Gen'ral Putnam's ended. 
 That chief, though ill, receiv'd our party 
 With joy, and gave us welcome hearty : 
 The good old man, of death not fearful, 
 Retain'd his mind and temper cheerful ; 
 Retain 'd (with palsey sorely smitten) 
 His love of country, pique for Britain: 
 He told of many a deed and skirmish, 
 That basis for romance might furnish ; 
 The story of his wars and woes 
 Which I shall write in humble prose, 
 Should heav'n (that fondest schemes can mar) 
 Protract my years beyond this war. 
 
 Thus end the toil and picture frightful 
 Of sleighing oft a sport delightful 
 A sfiort, which all our lads and lasses 
 Agree each other sport surpasses, 
 When, crossing bridges in that vehicle, 
 They taste of kisses sweet as treacle. 
 
 To Hartford next, with whip and spur, hence 
 I came nor met one ill occurrence 
 There Wadsiuorth 's hospitable dome 
 Receiv'd me : 'twas a second home. 
 
 Some days elaps'd, I jogg'd quite brave on, 
 And found my Trumbull at New-Haven ; 
 Than whom, more humour never man did 
 Possess nor lives a soul more candid 
 But who, unsung, would know hereafter, 
 The repartees, and peals of laughter, 
 Or how much glee those laughters yield one, 
 Maugre the system Chesterfieldian ! 
 Barlow I saw, and here began 
 My friendship for that spotless man ; 
 Whom, though the world does not yet know it, 
 Great nature form'd her loftiest poet. 
 But Dvjight was absent at North-Hampton, 
 That bard sublime, and virtue's champion; 
 To whom the charms of verse belong, 
 The father of our epic song !
 
 LETTER TO A YOUNG LADY. 201 
 
 My morn of life here haply past, 
 With youths of genius, science, taste: 
 But 'mid the roar of drums and guns, 
 Where meet again the muse's sons? 
 The mental banquet must they quit, 
 The feast of reason and of wit; 
 For ever lost, in civil strife, 
 That solace sweet of human life! 
 
 The cannon's distant thunders ring, 
 And wake to deeds of death the spring : 
 Far other sounds once touch 'd my ear, 
 And usher'd in the flbw'ry year : 
 But, now, adieu the tuneful train y 
 The warblings of my native plain ; 
 Adieu the scenes that charm'd my viewj 
 And thou, fair maid, again adieu ! 
 Farewell the bow'rs and conscious shades I 
 My country's cause my soul invades 
 Yes, rous'd by sense of country's wrongs, 
 I give the wind my idle songs: 
 No vacant hour for rhyme succeeds, 
 I go where'er the battle bleeds : 
 To-morrow (brief then be my story)* 
 I go to WASHINGTON and GLORY; 
 His Aid-de-Camp in acts when tried 
 Resolv'd (whatever fates betide) 
 My conduct, till my final breath, 
 Shall not disgrace my life or death.
 
 ( 203 ) 
 
 AN 
 
 EPITHALAMIUM. 
 
 1 WAS at the wedding-feast, for Celia won, 
 
 By Cymon's coxcomb son! 
 
 Aloft in dwarfish state 
 
 The foplike bridegroom sat, 
 
 And made a deal of fun 1 
 His gallant peers around were plac'd, 
 Their hair all curl'd and dress'd in newest taste : 
 (Of powder what prodigious waste !) 
 The simp'ring Celia by his side, 
 His lace and gewgaws fondly ey'd, 
 And swell'd her little heart with pride* 
 Proper, proper, proper pair! 
 
 None but a rake, 
 
 None but a rake 
 Such pains would take to gain a fickle fair. 
 
 II. 
 Mungo was there, and did well, 
 
 And led the cap 'ring choir ; 
 With fumbling fingers twang'd the fiddle : 
 The notes awake the am'rous fire, 
 And drinking joys inspire. 
 
 The song began of beaux, 
 
 And whence the order rose ; 
 (Such wond'rous things a fiddler knows) 
 A monkey's grinning form in utmost vigour, 
 Bely'd a macaroni's noble figure; 
 When he to fair Coquetta prest, 
 A while he sought her snowy breast ; 
 Then round her slender waist he curl'd, 
 And stamp'd an image of himself, a coxcomb of the world. 
 A present fop ! they shout around ; 
 A present fop ! the vaulted roofs rebounds 
 
 With ravish'd ears, 
 
 The fopling hears; 
 
 Assumes the shape, 
 
 Looks like an ape, 
 And grins, and laughs, and sneers.
 
 ( 203 ) 
 ALEXANDER'S FEAST, 
 
 OH. THE 
 
 POWER OF MUSIC: 
 
 An Ode in honour of St. Cecilia's Day, 
 
 By Mr. Dryden. 
 
 I. 
 
 L WAS at the royal feast for Persia woii| 
 
 By Philip's warlike son: 
 
 Aloft in awful state 
 
 The godlike hero sat 
 
 On his imperial throne. 
 His valiant peers were plac'd around, 
 Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound; 
 (So should desert in arms be crown'd,) 
 The lovely Thais by his side, 
 Sat like a blooming eastern bride, 
 In flow'r of youth and beauty's pride. 
 Happy, happy, happy pair ! 
 
 None but the brave, 
 
 None but the brave, 
 None but the brave deserves the fair. 
 
 II. 
 
 Timotheus plac'd on high, 
 Amid the tuneful choir, 
 With flying fingers touch'd the lyre ; 
 The trembling notes ascend the sky, 
 And heav'nly joys inspire. 
 
 The song began from Jove, 
 
 Who left his blissful seat above ; 
 (Such is the pow'r of mighty love) 
 A dragon's fiery form bely'd the god; 
 Sublime on radiant spires he rode, 
 When he to fair Olympia prest, 
 A while he sought her snowy breast ; 
 Then round her slender waist he curl'd, 
 And stamp'd an image of himself, a sov'reign of the world. 
 A present deity ! they shout around ; 
 A present deity ! the vaulted roofs rebound: 
 
 With ravish'd ears 
 
 The monarch hears ; 
 
 Assumes the god, 
 
 Affects to nod, 
 And seems to shake the spheres.
 
 204 AN EPITHALAMIUM. 
 
 III. 
 
 The praise of Bacchus then the thirsty fiddler sung ; 
 Of Bacchus, ever plump and ever young : 
 The jolly god to wedding comes ; 
 Sound the trumpets, beat the drums : 
 
 Flush 'd with a purple nose, 
 
 His pimpled face he shows. 
 
 Now give the boy a dram. He comes, he comes ! 
 Bacchus ! plump and merry younker, 
 Makes the wedding-folks get drunker; 
 Bacchus taught to toast the lasses ; 
 Tippling ev'ry joy surpasses, 
 
 Rich the treasure, 
 
 Sweet the pleasure, 
 After drinking to break glasses. 
 IV, 
 
 Sooth'd with the sound, the fop grew vain, 
 Talk'd all his courtship o'er again, 
 
 And thrice he kiss'd the girls all round, and thrice they fled amain. 
 The fiddler saw the mischief rise, 
 His yawning mouth, his maudlin eyes; 
 And while he sense and song defied, 
 Chang'd his hand, and strok'd the bride. 
 
 He chose a doleful ditty, 
 
 To work him up to pity : 
 He sung poor Damon's cruel wrongs, 
 
 By too severe a fate, 
 
 Banish'd, banish'd, banish'd, banish'd, 
 
 Banish'd for his small estate, 
 And writing mournful songs : 
 
 Deserted, at his utmost need, 
 
 By all Apollo's tuneful breed ; 
 On an old feather-bed he lies, 
 Nor dullness self will close his eyes: 
 With stupid stare the joyless fopling sat, 
 Revolving in his alter'd soul, 
 
 The various turns of fate and fun; 
 And now and then a drink he stole, 
 
 And streams began to run. 
 
 V. 
 
 The mighty fiddler smil'd to see 
 That love was in the next degree : 
 To touch that string was little labour, 
 For love to pity is next neighbour.
 
 ALEXANDER'S FEAST. 205 
 
 III. 
 
 The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung : 
 Of Bacchus, ever fair and ever young : 
 The jolly god in triumph comes ; 
 Sound the trumpets, beat the drums : 
 
 Flush'd with a purple grace, 
 
 He shows his honest face. 
 
 Now give the hautboys breath. He comes, he comes! 
 Bacchus I ever fair and young, 
 Drinking joys did first ordain; 
 
 Bacchus' blessings are a treasure ; 
 Drinking is the soldier's pleasure: 
 
 Rich the treasure, 
 
 Sweet the pleasure, 
 Sweet is pleasure after pain. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Sooth'd with the sound, the king grew vain, 
 Fought all his battles o'er again, 
 
 And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain. 
 The master saw the madness rise, 
 His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; 
 And while he heav'n and earth defy'd, 
 Chang'd his hand, and check'd his pride. 
 
 He chose a mournful muse, 
 
 Soft pity to infuse ; 
 He sung Darius, great and good I 
 
 By too severe a fate, 
 Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, 
 
 Fallen from his high estate, 
 And welt'ring in his blood: 
 
 Deserted at his utmost need, 
 
 By those his former bounty fedj 
 On the bare earth expos'd he lies, 
 Without a friend to close his eyes,. 
 With downcast looks the joyless victor sat, 
 Revolving in his alter'd soul, 
 
 The various turns of chance below ; 
 And now and then a sigh he stole, 
 
 And tears began to flow. 
 
 V. 
 
 The mighty master smil'd to see 
 That love was in the next degree; 
 'Twas but a kindred sound to move, 
 For pity melts the mind to love.
 
 206 AN EPITHALAMIUM. 
 
 Softly sweet he tun'd his fiddle, 
 Soon it sounded, tiddle, diddle. 
 Trade, he sung, is toil and trouble ; 
 Money but an empty bubble ; 
 Constant hurry, still beginning, 
 
 Constant cheating, never ending ; 
 If a fortune's worth thy winning, 
 
 Think, oh think it worth thy spending ! 
 Lovely Celia sits beside thee ; 
 Drink about, and luck betide thee. 
 The many rend the bowls with loud applause; 
 So love was crown'd, but liquor won the cause. 
 The fop, grown addled in his noddle, 
 
 Gaz'd on his brid, 
 And then his bottle, 
 
 And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, 
 Sigh'd and look'd, and look'd and sigh'd. 
 At length for love, and drinking more unable, 
 The tipsy bridegroom fell beneath the table. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Now tug the wooden lyre again : 
 A harder yet, and yet a harder strain. 
 Let scolding break his sleep asunder, 
 And start him, like a rattling peal of thunder. 
 Hark, hark, Xantippe's fable 
 Has rais'd up his head, 
 As awak'd from the dead, 
 And he peeps out from under the table. 
 Revenge, revenge, dark Mungo cries, 
 See the cuckolds arise ! 
 See the horns that they rear, 
 How they look in their hair, 
 And the tears that roll down from their eyes ! 
 Behold the hen-peck'd band, 
 In ghostly terrors stand I 
 
 These are husbands whose couches have met with a stain ; 
 Whose wives still remain, 
 Unconcern'd with their pain : 
 Give the vengeance due, 
 To the cuckold crew. 
 Behold how they toss their foreheads up higher, 
 
 How they point to the bed-rooms around, 
 And warn ev'ry pair to retire: 
 The cronies applaud with a Bacchanal sound:
 
 ALEXANDER'S FEAST, 20f 
 
 Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, 
 Soon he sooth'd his soul to pleasures. 
 War, he sung, is toil and trouble; 
 Honour but an empty bubble ; 
 Never ending, still beginning, 
 
 Fighting still, and still destroying; 
 If the world be worth thy winning, 
 
 Think, O think it worth enjoying! 
 Lovely Thais sits beside thee ; 
 Take the good the gods provide thee. 
 The many rend the skies with loud applause^ 
 So love was crown'd, but music won the cause. 
 The prince, unable to conceal his pain, 
 
 Gaz'd on his fair, 
 Who caus'd his care, 
 And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, 
 Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again. 
 At length, with love and wine at once opprest, 
 The vanquish'd victor sunk upon her breast. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Now strike the golden lyre again, 
 A louder yet, and yet a louder strain* 
 Break his bands of sleep asunder, 
 And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. 
 Hark, hark the horrid sound 
 Has rais'd up his head, 
 As awak'd from the dead, 
 And amaz'd he stares around. 
 Revenge, revenge ! Timotheus cries, 
 See the furies arise ! 
 See the snakes that they rear, 
 How they hiss in their hair ! 
 And the sparkles that flash from their eyes ! 
 Behold a ghostly band, 
 Each a torch in his hand! 
 
 These are Grecian ghosts that in battle were slain, 
 Whose bodies remain 
 Unburied on the plain : 
 Give the vengeance due, 
 To the valiant crew. 
 Behold how they toss their torches on high, 
 
 How they point to the Persian abodes, 
 And glittering temples of their hostile gods. 
 The princes applaud with a furious joy,
 
 208 AN EPITHALAMIUM. 
 
 And each in a rapture laid hold on his Helen : 
 
 The Way fair Celia led, 
 
 To light the bucks to bed ; 
 The rest is scarce worth telling. 
 VII. 
 
 Thus long ago, 
 
 Ere younger Cymon's horns began to grow. 
 While Celia's tongue lay still, 
 Dark Mungo show'd prodigious skill, 
 Both as a singer, 
 
 And when he touch'd his lyre with heavy thumb and fingev. 
 But when the shrill-voic'd Celia came, 
 And tun 'd to rage her vocal frame; 
 The gifted scold from her unborrow'd store, 
 Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds, 
 And added length to jarring sounds 
 With nature's mother -wit, and screams unknown before. 
 Let Mungo, if he's able, 
 
 Do more or yield the wreath 
 He stretch 'd a fop beneath the table, 
 * She scolded him to death.
 
 ALEXANDER'S FEAST. 209 
 
 And the king seiz'd a flambeau with zeal to destroy; 
 Thais led the way, 
 To light him to his prey, 
 And like another Helen, fir'd another Troy. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Thus long ago-, 
 
 Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, 
 While organs yet were mute ; 
 Timotheus with his breathing flute, 
 And sounding lyre, 
 
 Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. 
 But when divine Cecilia came, 
 Inventress of the vocal frame, 
 The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, 
 Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds, 
 And added length to solemn sounds, 
 With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. 
 Let old Timotheus yield the prize, 
 
 Or both divide the crown ; 
 He rais'd a mortal to the skies, 
 
 She drew an angel down. 

 
 ( 210 ) 
 
 
 
 
 AN 
 
 IMPROMPTU.* 
 
 jVlAY you, fraught with ev'ry grace, 
 All the charms of mind and face, 
 Ripen fair in wisdom's beam ; 
 Thine the bliss that poets dream. 
 Happier still thy prospects shine, 
 And each wish fulfill'd be thine ! 
 
 Riches make them wings and fly ; 
 Envy blasts the buds of joy ; 
 Deadly pangs may youth invade, 
 When the rosy cheek must fade ; 
 Only virtue can impart -\ 
 
 Our defence it soothes the heart, > 
 Death disarms, or blunts his dart. J 
 
 AM 
 
 ODE. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO LAURA, 
 
 V-/H, lovely Laura ! may a youth, 
 Inspir'd by beauty, urg'd by truth, 
 
 Disclose the heart's alarms, 
 The fire in youthful blood that glows, 
 Th' impassion'd pang on love that grows, 
 
 And dare to sing thy charms ! 
 
 Enough with war my lay has rung ; 
 A softer theme awakes my tongue ; 
 
 'Tis beauty's force divine ; 
 Can I resist that air, that grace, 
 The charms of motion, figure, face ? 
 
 For ev'ry charm is thine. 
 
 * Addressed to a young lady about to embark for Europe, who desired to have some 
 marmscript verses written by the author. Her name will be discovered in them.
 
 AN EPISTLE TO DR. DWIGHT. 211 
 
 Of health, of youth, th' expanding flush, 
 Of virgin fear the flying blush, 
 
 Distain thy lily cheek : 
 The bee such nectar never sips, 
 As yields the rose-bud of thy lips, 
 
 Thy lips that sweetly speak. 
 
 Tis thine the heaviest heart to cheer, 
 Those accents caught with eager ear, 
 
 So musically roll : 
 
 While swells the breast, the snow-white skin 
 Scarce hides the secret thoughts within, 
 
 Nor needs disguise that soul. 
 
 Where down thy waist, and o'er thy breast, 
 In light brown ringlets neatly drest, 
 
 Devolves thy beauteous hair : 
 Eager I gaze and, gazing, dream 
 Of halcyon days ; while on me beam 
 
 Those blue-eyes, mild and fair. 
 
 Unblam'd, oh let me gaze and gaze, 
 While love-sick fancy fondly strays, 
 
 And feasts on many a kiss ; 
 For us let tides of rapture roll, 
 Thus intermingling soul with soul. 
 
 In ecstacies of bliss I 
 
 AN 
 
 EPISTLE 
 
 TO 
 
 DR. DWIGHT. 
 
 On board the Courier de 1'Europa, July 30, 1784. 
 
 f ROM the wide wat'ry waste, where nought but skies 
 
 And mingling waves salute the aching eyes ; 
 
 Where the same moving circle bounds the view, 
 
 And paints with vap'ry tints the billows blue ; 
 
 To thee, my early friend ! to thee, dear Dwight ! 
 
 Fond recollection turns, while thus I write j
 
 312 AN EPISTLE TO DR. DWIGHT. 
 
 While I reflect, no change of time or place, 
 Th' impressions of our friendship can efface 
 Nor peace or war though chang'd for us the scene* 
 Though mountains rise, or oceans roll between 
 Too deep that sacred passion was imprest 
 On my young heart too deep it mark'd your breast 
 Your breast, which asks the feelings of your friend. 
 What chance betides him, or what toils attend? 
 Then hear the muse, in sea-born numbers tell 
 In mind how cheerful, and in health how well ; 
 And ev'n that muse will deign to let you know. 
 What things concur to make and keep him so. 
 
 We go, protected by supernal care, 
 With cloudless skies, and suns serenely fair ; 
 While o'er th' unruffled main the gentle gale 
 Consenting breathes, and fills each swelling sail ; 
 Conscious of safety in the self-same hand, 
 Which guides us on the ocean or the land* 
 
 Of thee, fair bark ! the muse prophetic sings, 
 " Europe's sivift Messenger.' expand thy wings, 
 " Rear thy tall masts, extend thine ample arms, 
 " Catch the light breeze, nor dread impending harms-r- 
 " Full oft shalt thou if aught the muse avails 
 (f Wing the broad deep with such delightful gales;, 
 " Full oft to either world announce glad news, 
 *' Of allied realms promote the friendly views; 
 " So shall each distant age assert thy claim, 
 " And JSurofie's Messenger be known to fame !" 
 
 What though this plain, so uniform and vast, 
 inimitably spreads its dreary waste ; 
 What though no isles, nor vales, nor hills, nor groves, 
 Meet the tir'd eye that round th' horizon roves; 
 Yet, still collected in a narrow bound, 
 Ten thousand little pleasures may be found. 
 
 Here we enjoy accommodations good, 
 With pleasant liquors, and well-flavour'd food ; 
 Meats nicely fatten'd in Columbian fields, 
 And luscious wines, that Gallia's vintage yields, 
 On Avhich you bards ('twas so in former days) 
 Might feast your wit, and lavish all your praise.
 
 AN EPISTLE TO DR. DWIGHT. 
 
 Within our ship, well-furnish'd, roomy, clean, 
 Come see the uses of each diff'rent scene r 
 Tar in the prow, for culinary use, 
 Fires, not poetic, much good cheer produce ; 
 The ovens there our daily bread afford, 
 And thence the viands load our plenteous board. 
 
 See various landscapes shade our dining hall, 
 Where mimic nature wantons round the wall; 
 There no vain pomp appears there all is neat. 
 And there cool zephyrs, fanning as we eat, 
 Avert the fervours of the noon-tide ray, 
 And give the mildness of the vernal day. 
 
 See the great cabin nigh, its doors unfold, 
 Show fleeting forms from mirrors fix'd in gold! 
 O'er painted ceilings brighter prospects rise, 
 And rural scenes again delight our eyes 
 There oft from converse or from social sports, 
 We drink delight less dash'd than that of courts. 
 
 But when more sober cares the hour requires, 
 Each to his cell of solitude retires ; 
 His bed his books his paper, pen and ink 
 Present the choice, > to rest, to read, or think. 
 
 Yet what would all avail to prompt the smile, 
 Cheer the sad breast, or the dull hour beguile ; 
 If well-bred passengers, discreet and free, 
 Were not at hand to mix in social glee? 
 Such my companions such the muse shall tell, 
 Him first, whom once you knew in war full well, 
 Our Polish friend,* whose name still sounds so hard, 
 To make it rhyme would puzzle any bai-d; 
 That youth, whose bays and laurels early crown'd, 
 For virtue, science, ai'ts and arms renown'dl 
 Next him, behold, to grace our wat'ry scene, 
 An honest Germanf lifts his gen'rous mein ; 
 Him Carolina sends to Europe's shore, 
 Canals and inland waters to explore ; 
 From thence return 'd, she hopes to see her tide, 
 In commerce rich, through ampler channels glide. 
 
 * General Koscmszko. t Colonel Senf.
 
 214 AN EPISTLE TO DR. DWIGHT. 
 
 Next comeS the bleak Quebec's well-natur'd son : 
 And last our naval chief, the friend of fun, 
 Whose plain, frank manners, form'd on fickle seas, 
 Are cheerful still, and always aim to please : 
 Nor less the other chiefs their zeal display, 
 To make us happy as themselves are gay. 
 
 Sever'd from all society but this, 
 Half way from either world we plough th' abyss ; 
 Save the small sea-bird, and the fish that flies 
 On yon blue waves, no object meets my eyes. 
 Nor has th' insidious hook, with lures, beguil'd 
 Of peopled ocean scarce a single child 
 Yet luckless Dolphin, erst to Arion* true, 
 Nought could avail thy beauteous, transient hue, 
 As o'er the deck, in dying pang you roll'd, 
 Wrapp'd in gay rainbows and pellucid gold. 
 
 Now see that wand'rer bird, fatigu'd with flight 
 O'er many a wat'ry league, is forc'd to light 
 High on the mast the bird our seamen take, 
 Though scar'd, too tir'd its refuge to forsake : 
 Fear not sweet bird, nor judge our motives ill, 
 No barb'rous man now means thy blood to spill, 
 Or hold thee cag'd soon as we reach the shore 
 Free shalt thou fly, and gaily sing and soar ! 
 
 Another grateful sight now cheers the eye, 
 At first a snow-white spot in yon clear sky ; 
 Then through the optic tube a ship appears, 
 And now distinct athwart the billows veers: 
 Daughter of ocean, made to bless mankind! 
 Go, range wide waters on the wings of wind 
 With friendly intercourse far climes explore, 
 Their produce barter, and increase their store- 
 Ne'er saw my eyes so fair a pageant swim, 
 As thou appear'st, in all thy gallant trim ! 
 
 Amus'd with trivial things, reclin'd at ease, 
 While the swift bark divides the summer seas, 
 
 * Ille sedet, citharamque tenet, pretiumque vdirndi 
 Canut, et aetjuoreas carmine mulcet aouss. Ovid. Fast.
 
 EPISTLE FROM DR. DWIGHT. 315 
 
 Your bard (for past neglects to make amends) 
 Now writes to you anon to other friends. 
 
 Anon the scene, in Europe's polish'd climes, 
 Will give new themes for philosophic rhymes, 
 Ope broader fields for reason to explore, 
 Improvements vast of scientific lore I 
 
 Through nations blest with peace, but strong in arms, 
 Refin'd in arts, and apt for social charms, 
 Your friend will stray, and strive with studious care 
 To mark whate'er is useful, great, or rare ; 
 Search the small shades of manners in their lives, 
 What policy prevails, how commerce thrives ; 
 How morals form of happiness the base, 
 How others differ from Columbia's race ; 
 And, gleaning knowledge from the realms he rov'd, 
 Bring home a pati'iot heart, enlarg'd, improv'd. 
 
 EPISTLE 
 
 FROM 
 
 DR. DWIGHT TO COL. HUMPHREYS. 
 
 Greer-field, 178.v. 
 
 JL ROM realms, where nature sports in youthful prime, 
 Where Hesper lingers o'er his darling clime, 
 Where sunny genius lights his sacred flame, 
 Where rising science casts her morning beam, 
 Where empire's final throne in pomp ascends, 
 Where pilgrim freedom finds her vanish 'd friends, 
 The world renews, and man from eastern fires, 
 Phoenix divine, again to heaven aspires, 
 Health to my friend this happy verse conveys, 
 His fond attendant o'er th' Atlantic seas. 
 
 Health to my friend let every wish prolong ; 
 Be this the burden of each artless song ; 
 This in the prayer of every morn arise ; 
 Thou angel guardian, waft it to the skies ! 
 His devious course let fostering heaven survey ; 
 Nor ills betide, nor foes arrest his way.
 
 216 EPISTLE PROM DR. DWIGHT 
 
 Nor health alone -may bliss thy path attend ; 
 May truth direct thee, and may peace befriend ; 
 From virtue's fount thy taintless actions flow ; 
 The shield of conscience blunt the <lart of woe ; 
 To rising bliss refin'd above alloy, 
 Where budding wishes blossom into joy, 
 Where glory dwells, where saints and seraphs sing, 
 Let heaven, in prospect, tempt thy lifted wing. 
 
 Me the same views, the same soft tide of cares, 
 Bear gently onward down the stream of years, 
 Still the same duties call my course along ; 
 Still grows, at times, the pain-deluding song ; 
 Still scenes domestic earthly joys refine, 
 Where bless'd Maria mingles cares with mine ; 
 The same fond circle still my life endears, 
 Where Fairfield's elms, or Stamford's groupe appears ; 
 Or where, in rural guise, around me smile 
 Mansions of peace, and Greenfield's beauteous hill, 
 Still to my cot the friend delighted hies, 
 And one lov'd parent waits beneath the skies. 
 
 To thee, far summon 'd from each native scene, 
 With half the breadth of this wide world between, 
 How bless'd the news my happy verse conveys, 
 Of friends, divided by interfluent seas ? 
 Health, peace, and competence, their walks surround, 
 On the bright margin of yon beauteous Sound, 
 Where Hartford sees the first of waters glide, 
 Or where thy Avon winds his silver tide. 
 
 Yet thou must mourn a friend,* a brother dear, 
 And o'er departed merit drop a tear. 
 Him sense illum'd, the hero's warmth inspir'd, 
 Grace taught to please, and patriot virtue fir'd; 
 Alike in peace, in war, at home, abroad, 
 Worth gain'd him honour, where his footsteps trode ; 
 Yet all in vain, his laurel'd garlands bloom, 
 But waste their beauty on th' untimely tomb. 
 
 * Major Elijah Humphreys, brother of Colonel Humphreys, who died in the West- 
 Jmlies, 1785.
 
 TO COLONEL HUMPHREYS. 21? 
 
 Meantime, invited o'er th' Atlantic tide, 
 Where arts refin'd allure thy feet aside, 
 May'st thou, unmov'd by splendour's painted charms, 
 And steel'd, when pleasure smiling spreads her arniSj 
 The great simplicity of soul retain, 
 The humble fear of heaven, and love of man, 
 When round thy course temptations sweetly throng, 
 When warbling syren's chant the luscious song, 
 When wealth's fair bubble beams its hues afar, 
 When grandeur calls thee to her golden car, 
 When pleasure opes the bosom bright of joy, 
 And the dy'd serpent gazes to destroy; 
 Oh 1 may the heavenly Guide thy passions warm, 
 Up virtue's hills thy feet resistless charm, 
 Show thee what crowns reward the gloi-ious strife, 
 And quicken fainting duty into life. 
 
 Oft has thine eye with glance indignant seen 
 Columbia's youths, unfolding into men, 
 Their minds t' improve, their manners to adorn, 
 To Europe's climes by fond indulgence borne ; 
 Oft hast thou seen those youths, at custom's shrine, 
 Victims to pride, to folly, and to sin, 
 Of worth bereft, of real sense forlorn, 
 Their land forget, their friends, their freedom spurn j 
 Each noble cause, each solid good desert, 
 For splendour happiness, and truth for art ; 
 The plain frank manners of their race despise, 
 Fair without fraud, and great beyond disguise ; 
 Where through the life the heart uncover'd ran, 
 And spoke the native dignity of man. 
 
 For these, the gain let virtue blush to hear, 
 And each sad parent drop the plaintive tear! 
 Train 'd in foul stews, impoison'd by the stage, 
 Hoyl'd into gaming, Keyser'd into age, 
 To smooth hypocrisy by Stanhope led, 
 To truth an alien, and to virtue dead, 
 Swoln with an English butcher's sour disdajn, 
 Or to a fribble dwindled from a man, 
 Homeward again behold the jackdaw run, 
 And yield his sire the ruins of a son !
 
 218 EPISTLE FROM DR. DWIGHT 
 
 What though his mind no thought has e'er perplex'd, 
 Converse illum'd, nor observations vex'd; 
 Yet here, in each debate, a judge he shines, 
 Of all that man enlarges or refines ; 
 Religion, science, politics, and song ; 
 A prodigy his parts, an oracle his tongue. 
 Hist! hist! ye mere Americans, attend; 
 Ope wide your mouths; your knees in homage bend; 
 While Curl discloses to the raptur'd view 
 What Peter, Paul, and Moses never knew ; 
 The light of new-born wisdom sheds abroad, 
 And adds a leanto* to the word of God. 
 What Creole wretch shall dare, with home-made foils, 
 Attack opinions brought three thousand miles ? 
 Sense, in no common way to mortals given, 
 But on Atlantic travellers breath'd by heaven ; 
 A head, en queue, by Monsieur Frizzle dress'd; 
 Manners, a Paris taylor's arts invest ; 
 Pure criticism, form'd from acted plays, 
 And graces that would even Stanhope grace I 
 Commercial wisdom merchants here inhale 
 From him, whose eye hath seen th' unfinish'd bale, 
 Whose ieet have pass'd the shop where pins were sold, 
 The wire was silver'd, and the heads were rolPd! 
 Conven'd, ye lawyers, make your humblest leg! 
 Here stands the man, has seen Lord Mansfield's wig! 
 Physicians hush'd, hear Galen's lips distil, 
 From Buchan's contents, all the art to heal ! 
 Divines, with reverence cease your scripture whims, 
 And learn this male Minerva's moral schemes; 
 Schemes theologic found in Drury-Lane, 
 That prove the Bible false, and virtue vain ! 
 Heavens ! shall a child in learning and in wit, 
 O'er Europe's climes a bird of passage flit ; 
 There, as at home, his stripling self unknown, 
 By novel wonders stupified to stone, 
 Shut from the wise, and by no converse taught, 
 No well-read day, nor hour of serious thought, 
 His head by pleasure, vice, and hurry, turn'd, 
 All prudence trampled, all improvements spurn 'd; 
 Shall he, with less of Europe in his cap 
 Than satchell'd school-boy guesses from the map, 
 
 * An awkward addition to a dwelling -houie, very coinmou in Nevr-EiiglanJ..
 
 TO COLONEL HUMPHREYS, 219 
 
 On every subject strutingly decree, 
 Ken the far shore and search th' unfathom'd sea, 
 Where learning has her lamp for ages oil'd, 
 Where Newton ponders and where Berkeley toil'd? 
 Of all the plagues that rise in human shape, 
 Good heaven, preserve us from the travell'd ape ! 
 " Peace to all such:"* but were there one whose mind 
 Bold genius wing'd, and converse pure refin'd, 
 By nature prompted science realms to roam, 
 And both her Indies bring with rapture home ; 
 Who men and manners search'd with eagle eye, 
 Exact to weigh, and curious to descry ; 
 Himself who burnish'd with the hand of care, 
 Till kings might boast so bright a gem to wear ; 
 Should he, deep plung'd in Circe's sensual bowl, 
 Imbrue his native manliness of soul, 
 With eye estrang'd, from fair Columbia turn, 
 Her youth, her innocence, and beauty scorn ; 
 To that foul harlot, Europe, yield his mind, 
 Witch'd by her smiles, and to her snares resign'd ; 
 To nature's bloom prefer the rouge of art, 
 A tinsell'd out-side to a golden heart ; 
 Show to the bliss by simple freedom giv'n, 
 To virtue Stanhope, and Voltaire to heaven ; 
 Who but must wish th' apostate youth to see ? 
 Who but must agonize, were Humphreys he ? 
 But all thy soul shall 'scape, th' escape to aid, 
 Fair to thy view be every motive spread. 
 Of each gay cause the dire effects survey, 
 And bring the painted tomb disclos'd to day. 
 Though thei'e proud pomp uprears his throne on high, 
 Though there the golden palace lights the sky, 
 Though wealth unfolds her gay Etonian seats, 
 Her walk of grandeur, and her wi!J of sweets ; 
 The stage, the park, the ring, the dance, the feast 
 Charm the palPd eye, and lure the loathing taste ; 
 Yet there fierce war unceasing sounds alarms : 
 Pride biows the trump, and millions rush to arms; 
 See steel and fire extinguish human good ! 
 See realms manur'd with corses, and with blood 1 
 At slaughter's shrine expires the new-born joy, 
 And all Jehovah's bounty fiends destroy. 
 
 * Fopate prologue to Uie Satires.
 
 220 EPISTLE FROM DR. DWIGHT 
 
 See the huge jail in gloomy grandeur rise, 
 
 Low'r o'er mankind, and mock the tempted skies I 
 
 Hear the chain clank ! the bursting groan attend ! 
 
 And mark the neighbouring gibbet's pride ascend. 
 
 See earth's fair face insatiate luxury spoils ! 
 
 For one poor tyrant, lo, a province toils ! 
 
 To brothels half the female world is driven, 
 
 Lost to themselves, and reprobates of heaven. 
 
 There too refinement glances o'er the mind, 
 
 And nought but vice and outside is refin'd; 
 
 To vice auspicious brilliant manners blend, 
 
 The waxen saint, and sinner, foe and friend, 
 
 Melt from the seul each virtue, as they shine, 
 
 And warm th' impoison'd blossom into sin. 
 
 In fair Columbia's realms how chang'd the plan, 
 
 Where all things bloom, but first of all things man? 
 
 Loi*d of himself, the independent swain 
 
 Sees no superior stalk the happy plain : 
 
 His house, his herd, his harvest, all his own, 
 
 His farm a kingdom, and his chair a throne. 
 
 Unblench'd by foul hypocrisy, the soul . 
 
 Speaks in her face, and bids his accents roll; 
 
 (Her wings unclipp'd) with fire instinctive warms, 
 
 Strong pulses feels, and bold conceptions forms; 
 
 At noblest objects aims her flight supreme, 
 
 The purpose vast, and enterprize extreme. 
 
 Hence round the pole her sons exalt the sail, 
 
 Search southern seas, and rouse the Falkland whale ; 
 
 Or on bold pinions hail the Asian skies, 
 
 And bi<3 new stars in spicy oceans rise. 
 
 Hence in bright arms her chiefs superior flame, 
 
 Even now triumphant on the steep of fame, 
 
 Where Vernon's hero mounts the throne sublime, 
 
 And sees no rival grace the reign of time. 
 
 Hence countless honours rising med'cine claims; 
 
 Hence Law presents her constellated names ; 
 
 The sacred science sees her concave bright 
 
 Jnstarr'd, and beauteous, with the sons of light: 
 
 Hence Edwards cheer'd the world with moral day, 
 
 And Franklin walk'd, unhurt, the realms where lightnings play. 
 
 Mechanic genius hence exalts his eye, 
 
 All powers to measure, and all scenes descry, 
 
 Bids Rittenhouse the heav'nly system feign, 
 
 And Bushnell search the chambers of the main.
 
 TO COLONEL HUMPHREYS. 231 
 
 Hence too, -where Trumhull leads the ardent throng, 
 Ascending bards begin th' immortal song : 
 Let glowing friendship wake the cheerful lyre, 
 Blest to commend, and pleas'd to catch the fire. 
 Be theirs the fame, to bards how rarely given ! 
 To fill with worth the part assign'd by heaven ; 
 Distinguish'd actors on life's busy stage, 
 Lov'd by mankind, and useful to the age; 
 While science round them twines her vernal bays, 
 And sense directs, and genius fires their lays. 
 While this fair land commands thy feet to roam, 
 And, all Columbian, still thou plan'st for home, 
 From those bright sages, with whose mission join'd, 
 Thou seek'st to build the interests of mankind, 
 Experience, wisdom, honour, may'st-jthou gain, 
 The zeal for country, and the love of man : 
 There through the civil science may'st thou run; 
 There learn how empii-es are preserv'd, or won; 
 How arts politic wide dominions sway; 
 How well-train'd navies bid the world obey; 
 How war's imperial car commands the plain, 
 Or rolls majestic o'er the subject main ; 
 Through earth, how commerce spreads a softer sway, 
 And Gallia's sons negociate realms away. 
 
 Then, crown'd with eveiy gift, and grace, return, 
 To add new glories to the Avestern moi-n ; 
 W T ith sages, heroes, bards, her charms display, 
 Her arts, arms, virtues, and her happy sway ; 
 Bid o'er the world her constellation rise, 
 The brightest splendour in th' unmeasur'd skies, 
 Her genial influence through all nations roll, 
 And hush the sound of war from pole to pole. 
 
 And oh, may he, who still'd the stormy main, 
 And lightly wing'd thee o'er the glassy plain, 
 Through life's rough-billow 'd sea, with kinder gales, 
 With skies serener, and with happier sails, 
 Each shoal escap'd, afar each tempest driven, 
 And nought but raptures round th' enchanted heaven., 
 To bliss, fair shore, thy prosperous course convey, 
 And join my peaceful bark, companion of thy way.
 
 ( 222 ) 
 
 
 
 THE SHEPHERD: 
 A SONG. 
 
 Translated from the French. 
 
 ti JT rains, it rains, my fair, 
 Come drive your white sheep fast 
 
 To shelter quick repair, 
 Haste, shepherdess, make haste. 
 
 I hear the water pours, 
 With patt'ring on the vines: 
 
 See here ! see here ! it lours 
 See there the lightning shines. 
 
 The thunder dost tliou hear ? 
 
 Loud roars the rushing storm : 
 Take (while we run, my dear) 
 
 Protection from my arm. 
 
 I see our cot, ah hold ! 
 
 Mamma and sister Nance, 
 To open our sheep-fold, 
 
 Most cheerily advance. 
 
 God bless my mother dear, 
 
 My sister Nancy too ! 
 I bring my sweet-heart here, 
 
 To sleep to-night with you. 
 
 Go, dry yourself, my friend, 
 And make yourself at home- 
 
 Sister, on her attend : 
 
 Come in, sweet lambkins, come, 
 
 Mamma, let's take good care 
 Of all her pretty sheep ; 
 
 Her little lamb we'll spare 
 More straw whereon to sleep.
 
 MOUNT-VERNON. 223 
 
 'Tis done now let us haste 
 To her ; you here, my fair ! 
 
 Undress'd, oh what a waist! 
 My mother, look you there. 
 
 Let's sup ; come take this place, 
 
 You shall be next to me ; 
 This pine-knot's cheerful blaze 
 
 Shall shine direct on thee. 
 
 Come taste this cream so sweet, 
 
 This syllabub so warm ; 
 Alas ! you do not eat: 
 
 You feel e'en yet the storm. 
 
 'Twas wrong I press'd too much 
 Your steps, when on the way : 
 
 But here, see here your couch- 
 There sleep till dawn of day, 
 
 With gold the mountain tips:~ 
 Good night, good night, my dove ! 
 
 Now let me on your lips 
 Imprint one kiss of love. 
 
 Mamma and I will come, 
 As soon as morn shall shine, 
 
 To see my sweet-heart home, 
 And ask her hand for mine." 
 
 MOUNT-VERNON: 
 AN ODE. 
 
 JDY broad Potowmack's azure tide, 
 Where Vernon's mount, in sylvan pride, 
 
 Displays its beauties far, 
 Great Washington, to peaceful shadeS| 
 Where no unhallow'd wish invades, 
 
 Retir'd from fields of war. 
 
 * Written at Mount- Vernon, August, 178S.
 
 524 MOUNT-VERNON. 
 
 Angels might see, with joy, the sage, 
 Who taught the battle where to rage, 
 
 Or quench'd its spreading flame, 
 On works of peace employ that hand, 
 Which wav'd the blade of high command, 
 
 And hew'd the path to fame. 
 
 Let others sing his deeds in arms, 
 
 A nation sav'd, and conquest's charms : 
 
 Posterity shall hear, 
 
 'Twas mine, return'd from Europe's courts, 
 To share his thoughts, partake his sports, 
 
 And sooth his partial car. 
 
 To thee, my friend, these lays belong : 
 Thy happy seat inspires my song, 
 
 With gay, perennial blooms, 
 With fruitage fair, and cool retreats, 
 Whose bow'ry wilderness of sweets 
 
 The ambient air perfumes. 
 
 Here spring its earliest buds displays, 
 Here latest on the leafless sprays 
 
 The plumy people sing ; 
 The vernal show'r, the rip'ning year, 
 Th' autumnal store, the winter drear. 
 
 For thee new pleasures bring. 
 
 Here lapp'd in philosophic ease, 
 Within thy walks, beneath thy trees, 
 
 Amidst thine ample farms, 
 No vulgar converse heroes hold, 
 But past or future scenes unfold, 
 
 Or dwell on nature's charms. 
 
 What wond'rous zera have we seen, 
 Plac'd on this isthmus, half between 
 
 A rude and polish 'd state ! 
 We saw the war tempestuous rise, 
 In arms a world, in blood the skies, 
 
 In doubt an empire's fate. 
 
 The storm is calm'd, seren'd the heav'n*, 
 And mildly o'er the climes of ev'n j. 
 
 Expands th' imperial day :
 
 THE GENIUS OF AMERICA. 32$ 
 
 ** O God, the source of light supreme^ 
 " Shed on our dusky morn a gleam, 
 " To guide our doubtful way ! 
 
 " Restrain, dread Pow'r, our land from crimes ! 
 " What seeks, though blest beyond all times, 
 
 " So querulous an age ? 
 <l What means to freedom such disgust ; 
 " Of change, of anarchy the lust, 
 
 " The fickleness and rage ?" 
 
 So spake his country's friend, with sighs, 
 To find that country still despise 
 
 The legacy he gave- 
 And half he fear'd his toils were vain, 
 And much that man would court a chain, 
 
 And live through vice a slave. v 
 
 A transient gloom o'ercast his mind : 
 Yet, still on providence reclin'd, 
 
 The patriot fond believ'd, 
 That pow'r benign too much had done, 
 To leave an empire's task begun, 
 
 Imperfectly achiev'd. 
 
 Thus buoy'd with hope, with virtue blest, 
 Of ev'ry human bliss possess'd, 
 
 He meets the happier hours : 
 His skies assume a lovelier blue, 
 His prospects brighter rise to view, 
 
 And fairer bloom his flow'rs. 
 
 THE GENIUS OF AMERICA.* 
 A SONG. 
 
 TUNE The Watery God, &c. 
 
 WHERE spirits dwell, and shad'wy forms, 
 On Andes' cliffs, 'mid black'ning storms, 
 With livid lightnings curl'd ; 
 
 * Written during the insurrections in Massachusetts, in the year 1787. 
 2G
 
 226 THE GENIUS OF AMERICA. 
 
 The awful genius of our clime, 
 In thunder rais'd his voice sublime^ 
 And hush'd the list'ning world. 
 
 " In lonely waves and wastes of earth, 
 " A mighty empire claims its birth, 
 
 " And heav'n asserts the claim ; 
 " The sails that hang in yon dim sky, 
 K Proclaim the promis'd jera nigh, 
 
 " Which wakes a world to fame. 
 
 " Hail ye first bounding barks that roam, 
 " Blue tumbling billows topp'd with foam, 
 
 " Which keel ne'er plough'd before ! 
 11 Here suns perform their useless round, 
 K Here rove the naked tribes embrown'd, 
 
 " Who feed on living gore. 
 
 " To midnight orgies, off'ring dire, 
 " The human sacrifice on fire, 
 
 " A heav'nly light succeeds 
 (l But, lo I what horrors intervene, 
 " The toils severe, the carnag'd scene, 
 
 " And more than mortal deeds ! 
 
 " Ye fathers, spread your fame afar, 
 " 'Tis yours to still the sounds of war, 
 
 " And bid the slaughter cease ; 
 " The peopling hamlets wide extend, 
 " The harvests spring, the spires ascend, 
 
 " 'Mid grateful songs of peace. 
 
 " Shall steed to steed, and man to man, 
 " With discord thund'ring in the van, 
 
 " Again destroy the bliss ? 
 " Enough my mystic words reveal, 
 *' The rest the shades of night conceal 
 
 " In fate's profound abyss." 

 
 EPILOGUE TO THE WIDOW OF MALABAR. 229 
 
 Hearts form'd for love, but doom'd in vain to glow 
 In prison'd pomp, and weep in splendid woe : 
 Or see their fate in India more severe, 
 The sad companions of a husband's bier ! 
 
 Not such their doom, where genial science shines, 
 
 And heav'n-born freedom human souls refines, 
 
 Where polish'd manners social life improve, 
 
 And teach us to respect the sex we love ; 
 
 Confirm their claims in equal rights to share, 
 
 Friends in our bliss, and partners in our carer 
 And hail, ye fair, of ev'ry charm possess'd 
 
 Who grace this rising empire of the west; 
 
 With better fates, and nobler genius born, 
 
 Your sex to honour, and your land adorn ; 
 
 In this blest age, to share our fond regard, 
 
 The friends of heroes, and their blest reward I 
 Yet when o'er foreign woes ye shed a tear, 
 
 And find your bliss by contrast still more dear ; 
 
 With humble joy adore th' Almighty hand, 
 
 Which fix'd your birth in this auspicious land ! 
 
 Ye gen'rous patrons who protect our stage, 
 Friends to the arts, and guardians of the age ; 
 To tragic woes now lend the list'ning eai*, 
 Attend with candour, with indulgence hear ! 
 While we display, in pleading nature's cause, 
 Our best attempts to merit your applause ! 
 
 EPILOGUE 
 
 TO 
 
 THE WIDOW OF MALABAR. 
 
 Spoken by Mrs. Henry, in the Character of Lanis:. 
 
 WELL, here I come and almost out of breath, 
 'Twixt love, fire, fear, and widowhood and death ; 
 While I for such fictitious strife am harness'd 
 I feel I suffer more than half in earnest:
 
 230 EPILOGUE TO THE WIDOW OF MALABAR. 
 
 By Bramins' seiz'd those bloody-minded fellows 
 My hair-breadth 'scapes were greater than Othello's 1 
 Nought could have sav'd me from the jaws of fate, 
 Had my French lover came one breath too late. 
 The pile prepar'd and kindling brisk as tinder, 
 They'd bern'd your poor Lanissa to a cinder ! 
 
 But well our author had contriv'd the whole, 
 And seems, in truth, a right good-natur'd soul : 
 He swears himself his drama, without vanity, 
 Is founded on the basis of humanity ; 
 Without one RULE or UNITY infringing, 
 He sav'd his heroine from a mortal singing 
 So after all this mighty fire and rattle, 
 Our bloodless play is like a bloodless battle. 
 
 Am I to blame, if, this dear life to save, 
 I lik'd a lover better than a grave ; 
 Prefer'd your Christian maxims for a drama, 
 To all the murd'rous rites of pagan Brama ; 
 And held, retreating from my fun'ral urn, 
 <; 'Twas better far to marry than to burn ?" 
 No I'll be burn'd, but ev'ry maid and widow 
 Would do, in such a case, just as I did do. 
 
 Yes thank your stars, Columbia's happy dames I 
 Ye need not fear those frightful fun'ral flames : 
 Of other lands let foreign bards be dreaming, 
 But this, this only is the land for women : 
 Here ye invert the Bramins' barb'rous plan, 
 And stretch your sceptre o'er the tyrant man. 
 
 Ye men, if I offend, I ask your pardon, 
 I would not for the world your sex bear hard on. 
 Ye are the fathers, founders of a nation, 
 The gods on earth, the lords of this creation J 
 And let philosophers say what they please, 
 You're not groitm less by coming o'er the seas : 
 We know your worth, and dare proclaim your merit. . 
 The world may ask your foes, " if you want spirit?" 
 Your vict'ries won your revolution ended 
 Your constitution newly made and mended 
 Your fund of wit your intellectual riches 
 Plans in the closet in the senate speeches
 
 EPILOGUE TO THE WIDOW OF MALABAR. 231 
 
 Will make this age of heroes, wits, and sages, 
 
 The first in story to the latest ages I 
 
 Go on and prosper with your projects blest, 
 
 Till your millennium rises in the west : 
 
 We wish success to your politic scheming, 
 
 Rule ye the world J and then be rul'd by women ! * 
 
 For here, ye fair, no servile rites bear sway, 
 Nor force ye (though ye promise) to obey : 
 Blest in the mildness of this temp'rate.zone, 
 Slaves to no whims, or follies but your own. 
 Here custom, check'd in ev'ry rude excess, 
 Confines its influence to the arts of dress, 
 O'er charms eclips'd the side-long hat displays, 
 Extends the hoop, or pares away the stays, 
 Bedecks the fair with artificial geer, 
 Breast-works in front, and bishops in the rear : 
 The idol rears, on beauty's dazzling throne, 
 Mankind her slaves, and all the world her own ; 
 Bound by no laws a husband's whims to fear, 
 Obey in life, or burn upon his bier; 
 She views with equal eye, sub:ime o'er all, 
 A lover perish or a lap-dog fall 
 Coxcombs or monkey from their chains broke loose 
 And now a husband dead and now a goose. 
 
 But jesting all apart and such droll strictures ; 
 We'll strive to chafm you with still fairer pictures 
 For 'tis our object to divert not tease you 
 To make you laugh or cry as best shall please you 
 So as it suits each kind spectator's turn, 
 You'll come to see me play the fool or burn 
 Ladies and gentlemen ! on this condition, 
 I humbly offer my sincere petition, 
 That you'll come oft to hear me sing or say 
 <{ And poor Lanissa will for ever pray."
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 There are remarkable periods and events, which may serve, 
 figuratively speaking, as fioints of view, to guide the memory 
 in retracing our wanderings through this world of vicissitudes 
 and care. The times on which we have fallen, and the situa 
 tions in which I have been placed, may have furnished, per- 
 haps, an unusual number. Upon lately looking over my 
 papers, I found a few Sonnets which recalled to recollection 
 tome of the feelings with which they were written. It is pre 
 sumed, the dates and titles will generally point out what shall 
 be sufficient to be known respecting these compositions, without 
 illustration. 
 
 New-Haven, November, 1802. 
 
 SONNET I. 
 
 Addressed to my Friends at Yale College, on my leaving 
 them to join the Army. 
 
 ADIEU, thou Yale ! where youthful poets dwell, 
 No more I linger by thy classic stream. 
 Inglorious ease and sportive songs farewell ! 
 Thou startling clarion! break the sleeper's dream! 
 
 And sing, ye bards ! the war-inspiring theme. 
 Heard ye the din of battle? clang of arms? 
 Saw ye the steel 'mid starry banners beam? 
 Quick throbs my breast at war's untried alarms, 
 Unknown pulsations stirr'd by glory's charms. 
 
 While dear Columbia calls, no danger awes, 
 Though certain death to threaten'd chains be join'd. 
 Though fails this flesh devote to freedom's cause, 
 Can death subdue th' unconquerable mind ? 
 Or adamantine chains ethereal substance bind?
 
 ( 233 ) 
 
 SONNET II. 
 ON THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR IN AMERICA. 
 
 \v HEN civil war aw.ik'd his wrathful fire, 
 I saw the Britons' burnings stain the sky ; 
 I saw the combat rage with ruthless ire, 
 Welt'ring in gore the dead and dying lye ! 
 
 How devastation crimson 'd on my eye, 
 When swoon'd the frighten 'd maid ; the matron fled 
 And wept her missing child with thrilling cry; 
 Old men on staves, and sick men from their bed 
 Crept, while the foe the conflagration sped ! 
 
 So broods, in upper skies, that tempest dire, 
 Whence fiercer heat these elements shall warm ; 
 What time, in robes of blood and locks of fire, 
 Th' exterminating angel's awful form 
 Blows the grave-rending blast, and guides the redd'ning storm. 
 
 SONNET III. 
 ON THE PROSPECT OF PEACE, IN 1783. 
 
 .T ROM worlds of bliss, above the solar bounds, 
 Thou, Peace ! descending in these skirts of day, 
 Bring heav'nly balm to heal my country's wounds, 
 Joy to my soul, and transport to my lay ! 
 
 Too long the cannon, 'mid the grim array 
 Of charging hosts, insufferably roar'd ; 
 When rose th' Almighty pow'r, with sovereign sway, 
 To end the battle mutual inroads gor'd, 
 Spare squander'd blood, and sheath the wearied sword. 
 
 Now bids that voice divine th' invaders yield, 
 From glooms of midnight morn's gay prospects rise : 
 There, see the dawn of heav'n's great day reveal'd, 
 Where new auroras dim our dazzled eyes, 
 Flash o'er th' Atlantic waves, and fire the western skies ! 
 
 2H
 
 ( 234 ) 
 
 SONNET IV. 
 ON DISBANDING THE ARMY.* 
 
 Y E brave Columbian bands ! a long farewell ! 
 Well have ye fought for freedom nobly done 
 Your martial task the meed immortal won 
 And time's last records shall your triumphs tell. 
 
 Once friendship made their cup of suff 'rings sweet 
 The dregs how bitter now those bands must part ! 
 Ah ! never, never more on earth to meet : 
 Distill'd from gall that inundates the heart, 
 What tears from heroes' eyes are seen to start I 
 
 Ye, too, farewell, who fell in fields of gore, 
 And chang'd tempestuous toil for rest serene ; 
 Soon shall we join you on the peaceful shore, 
 (Though gulfs irremeable i*oll between) 
 Thither by death-tides borne, as ye full soon have been* 
 
 SONNET V. 
 
 ON LIFE. 
 
 Jl,RE we can think of time the moment's past 
 And straight another since that thought began : 
 So swift each instant mingles with the last, 
 The flying now exists no more f for man. 
 
 With consciousness suspended ev'n by sleep, 
 To what this phantom, life, then likest seems? 
 Say, thou ! whose doubtful being (lost in dreams) 
 Allows the wilder 'd but to wake and weep, 
 So thoughtless hurried to th' eternal deep ! 
 
 'Tis like a moon-light vision's airy shade, 
 A bubble driving down the deep beneath 
 Then, ere the bubble burst, the vision fade, 
 Dissolv'd in air this evanescent breath ! 
 Let man, not mortal, learn true life begins at death. 
 
 * It will be difficult for any person who was not present with the troops at the conclutian 
 of the war, to form an adequate idea of the affecting circumstances which attended the dis 
 banding of the army. 
 
 + With the Deity, past, present, and future, (as they respect man, who recognizw the parts 
 f duration by succession) are the sam*.
 
 ( 2S5 ) 
 
 SONNET VI. 
 ON A NIGHT-STORM AT SEA.* 
 
 XlEAV'N'S ! what a sight my startled eyes behold ! 
 'Mid peals of thunder how the lightnings play ! 
 Now dark'ning clouds, in dire confusion roll'd, 
 Hide the last glimm'rings of departed day. 
 
 Now night in tenfold gloom begins her reign ; 
 Wild bounds our bark with all her canvass furl'd. 
 How howls the madd'ning wind along the main, 
 The breaking billows o'er the topmast hurPd, 
 And fearful yawns, by fits, th' unfathom'd world ! 
 
 Oh, thou! whom not the heav'n of heav'ns contains, 
 Who oft has sav'd me from the wat'ry grave, 
 And leaden deaths that cours'd the crimson plains ; 
 Thy arm Omnipotent extend to save, 
 Oh, speed the halcyon dawn and still the stormy wave.. 
 
 SONNET VII. 
 
 On a calm Morning iv/ricJi succeeded a Night-Storm <at Sta* 
 
 1 HAT pow'r, whose voice from Chaos" vast inane 
 CalPd this fair orb, when sang the sister-stars, 
 Hath lull'd the tumult of the madden 'd main, 
 And hush'd the rage of elemental wars. 
 > 
 
 Where rav'd the tempest yields the blast of night 
 To matin gales that smooth the liquid way, 
 And orient morn, in beams of beauty bright, 
 Awakes the rapture of the hymning lay, 
 Thy tribute due, eternal source of day J 
 
 Where night more dismal dwells, with gladd'ning light 
 So will a day-star spring ; to cheer the gloom 
 Where chills of death the buds of being blight ; 
 To wake the sleeping tenants of the tomb, 
 And make their faded forms in youth immortal bloom, 
 
 * The two Sonnets, on a storm and calm at ten, were composed on board the brig Sophia, 
 a. dispatch vessel of the United States, pnrthased by the American governmiT.t tt> carry *!vr 
 <autboi to .Europe in 1795.
 
 ( 236 ) 
 
 SONNET VIII. 
 ON THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 
 
 IVJ Y Heav'n-born soul ! by body unconfin'd, 
 Leave that low tenement, and roam abroad ; 
 Forestall the time, when, left each clog behind, 
 Thy flight shall mount where never mortal trod. 
 
 Ev'n now, methinks, upborne in tranced dream*, 
 The disencumber'd essence tries its wings ; 
 Sees better planets, basks in brighter beams, 
 To purer sight mysterious symbols brings, 
 Of unconceiv'd, unutterable things. 
 
 Though dust retum'd to dust the worms devour, 
 Thee, can dread death annihilate or bind ? 
 There, king of terrors ! stops thy dreaded pow'r ; 
 The bright assurgent from all dross refin'd, 
 High o'er th' immense of space regains the world of mind. 
 
 SONNET IX. 
 
 On the Death of Major JOHN PALLSGRAVE WYLLYK, 
 
 JDELOVD in life ! and mourn'd in death! when slain, 
 Where flow'd the sanguine flood of savage war 
 Where white with red* men mingling press'd the plain, 
 Thy bones long bleaching in lone fields afar: 
 
 Thee, Wyllys ! thee, the sighing winds deplore, 
 Through wilds where axe-men erst no branch had fell'd: 
 Still mourns for thee, Ohio's peopling shore, 
 His groves (where late the painted warriors yell'd) 
 Vocal with grief, with tears his waters swell'd. 
 
 No friend was nigh to lave thy clotted wound, 
 Catch thy last breath, and close thy bursting eyes; 
 Yet thee full cities wail in woe profound 
 Thy friends, thy sire, beyond funereal cries, 
 Stifle in dumb despair abortive groans and sighs. 
 
 * The aboriginal inhabitsfits of America denominate the Europeans he fa/e, and them 
 selves the red flesh.
 
 ( 237 ) 
 
 SONNET X. 
 
 On the Murders committed by the Jacobin Faction in the 
 early Period of the French Revolution* 
 
 VV HEN heads by guillotines all ghastly fell, 
 As, mad for gore, o'er Gaul a faction hung; 
 Then giant Terror tolFd his nightly knell, 
 Wide on the winds the sounds of murder flung 1 
 
 With agonizing shrieks each prison rung 
 Nor yet the tocsin ceas'd its louder roar, 
 But every time it undulating swung, 
 Cold horror froze through every shivering pore, 
 For victims doom'd to view the dawn no more. 
 
 Those blood-stain 'd Jacobins in turn shall fall, 
 Murd'rers of millions under freedom's name! 
 But not the blood that delug'd frantic Gaul, 
 In calm Columbia quenches reason's flame, 
 Or blots with bloody slur our fair Republic's fame. 
 
 SONNET XI. 
 
 Addressed to his Royal Highness the Prince of Brazil, on my 
 taking leave of the Court of Lisbon, July, 1797. 
 
 -T AREWELL ye flow'ry fields! where nature's hand 
 Profusely sheds her vegetable store, 
 Nurtur'd by genial suns and zephyrs bland ! 
 Farewell thou Tagus! and thy friendly shore: 
 
 Long shall my soul thy lost retreats deplore, 
 Thy haunts where shades of heroes met my eyes * 
 As oft I mus'd where Camr.ens trod before, 
 I saw the godlike form of Gama rise, 
 With chiefs renown'd beneath yon eastern skies. 
 
 Oh, long may peace and glory crown thy scene 
 Farewell, just Prince ! no sycophantic lay 
 Insults thy ear be what thy sires have been, 
 Thy great progenitors ! who op'd the way 
 Through seas unsail'd before to climes of orient day. 
 
 This Sonnet was translated into Portuguese verse by the Marshall-General} and Comman 
 der in Chief, Dake de Alafocw 3 the uncle of the Q.UBCD of Portugal,
 
 ( 338 } 
 
 SONNET XII. 
 
 On receiving the JVetvs of the Death of General 
 
 XJ.ARK! friends! what sobs of sorrow, moans of grief, 
 On every gale, through every region spread I 
 Hark ! how the western world bewails our chief. 
 Great Washington, his country's father dead! 
 
 Our living light expiring with his breath, 
 His bright example still illumes our way 
 Through the dark valley of thy shadow, death ! 
 To realms on high of life without decay, 
 
 Faint, he relied on heav'nly help alone, 
 While conscience cheer'd th' inevitable hour ; 
 When fades the glare of grandeur, pomp of pow'f, 
 And all the pageantry that gems a throne : 
 Then from his hallow'd track, who shall entice 
 Columbia's sons to tread the paths of vice? 
 
 FAREWELL, 
 FROM THE ABBE O 'MOORE, 
 
 A.DDRESSED 
 
 TO THE HONOURABLE DAVID HUMPHREYS, 
 
 Minister Plenipotentiary of the United States of America, at the Court of Madrid. 
 
 _L HEE, Humphreys ! I address, since ev'n thy name 
 
 Can in cold bosoms light a poet's flame ; 
 
 And well it suits an humble muse like mine, 
 
 Prostrate to own the dignity of thine. 
 
 This day each maid that haunts the sacred spring, 
 
 Salutes the infant year from every string ; 
 
 Save mine, who lonely vales and woods among, 
 
 Her hair dishevell'd and her harp unstrung, 
 
 Weeps that, like Philomel, thou soon wilt fly 
 
 To distant groves, beneath another sky. 
 
 Oh, how unlike the proud when rais'd to rank. 
 Too swol'n to move within their nat'ral bank, 
 WTio, soon o'erflowing, with resistless force, 
 Break down each bridge of social intercourse !
 
 FAREWELL. 339 
 
 Humphreys has strength of character to bear, 
 Unmov'd, all fortunes in a lofty sphere ; 
 Beneath his feet repulsive pride to throw. 
 And stoop with dignity to those below. 
 But if his country bids, in arduous hour, 
 He, bold, asserts his ministerial power ; 
 And mildly stubborn, ev'n before a throne, 
 Supports his nation's honour and his own. 
 
 So of himself an emblem is his muse, 
 Both ever quick the proper tone to choose ; 
 From her how unaffected flows the strain, 
 Whene'er she treads the woodland and the plain ; 
 But when her trumpet sounds the rough alarms, 
 And calls Columbia's patriot sons to arms ; 
 Then fierce and spirited the note she pours, 
 And hosts rise thund'ring, " Freedom shall be ours!" 
 
 Blest Poet, Patriot, Warrior, oh, that long 
 Thy life may charm with virtue and with song ! 
 FAREWELL ! and gentle as thy partner's mind, 
 May'st thou thy passage to thy country find : 
 Charm'd OCEAN emulate her placid souj, 
 Nor storms arise, nor angry billows roll ; 
 But waft both swiftly o'er his rude domains, 
 To those, by Humphreys made, immortal plains ; 
 Where first by Freedom and by genius taught, 
 Alike he sweetly sung and bravely fought. 
 
 WILLIAM O'MOORE, 
 
 Chaplain to his Catholic Majesty's Foot Willoon Guards. 
 
 Madrid^ Jan. 1, 1803.
 
 AN 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 i 
 
 ON THE 
 
 LIFE 
 
 / 
 OF THE 
 
 HONOURABLE MAJOR-GENERAL 
 
 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO THE 
 
 < 
 
 STATE SOCIETY OF THE CINCINNATI IN CONNECTICUT. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THEIR ORDER. 
 
 21
 
 TO THE 
 
 HON. COL. JEREMIAH WADSWORTH, 
 
 President of the State Society of the Cincinnati 
 in Connecticut, Sec. 
 
 MT DEAR SIR, 
 
 \j NAVOIDABLE absence will prevent me from performing 
 the grateful task assigned me by the State Society of the Cincin 
 nati on the fourth day of July next. Though I cannot personally 
 address them, I wish to demonstrate, by some token of affectionate 
 remembrance, the sense I entertain of the honour they have 
 more than once conferred upon me by their suffrages. 
 
 Meditating in what manner to accomplish this object, it oc 
 curred to me, that an attempt to preserve the actions of General 
 Putnam, in the archives of our State Society, would be acceptable 
 to its members, as they had all served with great satisfaction 
 under his immediate orders. An essay on the life of a person so 
 elevated in military rank, and so conversant in extraordinary 
 scenes, could not be destitute of amusement and instruction, and 
 would possess the advantage of presenting for imitation a re 
 spectable model of public and private virtues. 
 
 General Putnam is universally acknowledged to have been as 
 brave and as honest a man as ever America produced; but the 
 distinguishing features of his character, and the particular trans 
 actions of his life, are but imperfectly known. He seems to have 
 been formed on purpose for the age in which he lived. His native 
 courage, unshaken integrity, and established reputation as a sol 
 dier, were necessary in the early stages of our opposition to the 
 designs of Great-Britain, and gave unbounded confidence to our 
 troops in their first conflicts in the field of battle. 
 
 The enclosed manuscript justly claims indulgence for its venial 
 .errors, as it is the first effort in Biography that has been made 
 on this continent. The attempt, I am conscious, is laudable, what- 
 ver may be the failure in point of execution.
 
 244 LETTER TO COLONEL WADSWORTH. 
 
 I am happy to find the Society of the Cincinnati is now gene 
 rally regarded in a favourable manner. Mankind, with few 
 exceptions, are disposed to do justice to the motives on which it 
 was founded. For ourselves, we can never recall to mind the 
 occasion, without feeling the most tender emotions of friendship 
 and sensibility. At the dissolution of the army, when we retired" 
 to separate walks of life, from the toils of a successful war, in 
 which we had been associated during a very important part of 
 our lives, the pleasing idea, and the fond hope of meeting once 
 a year, which ga~6e birth to our fraternal institution, were 
 necessary consolations to sooth the pangs that tore our bosoms 
 at the melancholy hour of parting. When our hands touched, 
 perhaps for the last time, and our tongues refused to perform 
 their office in bidding farewell, heaven witnessed and approved 
 the purity of our intentions in the ardour of our affections. May 
 we persevere in the union of our friendship, and the exertion of 
 our benevolence ; regardless of the censures of jealous suspicion, 
 which charges our designs with selfishness, and ascribes our ac 
 tions to improper motives; while we realize sentiments of a 
 nobler nature in our anniversary festivities, and our hearts dilate 
 with an honest joy, in opening the hand of beneficence to the in 
 digent widow and unprotected orphan of our departed friends. 
 
 I pray you, my dear Sir, to present my most respectful com 
 pliments to the members of the Society, and to assure them, on my 
 part, that whensoever it shall be in my power, I shall esteem it 
 the felicity of my life to attend their anniversaries. 
 I have the honour to be, 
 
 With sentiments of the highest consideration and esteem, 
 Your most obedient and most humble servant, 
 
 D. HUMPHREYS. 
 Mount-Vemon, in Virginia, 
 
 June4, 1788.
 
 AN 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 ON THE 
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 -I O treat of recent transactions and persons still living, is always 
 a delicate, and frequently a thankless office. Yet, while the par 
 tiality of friends, or the malignity of enemies, decides with rashness 
 on every delineation of character, or recital of circumstances, a 
 consolation remains, that distant nations, and remoter ages, free 
 from the influence of prejudice or passion, will judge with impar 
 tiality, and appreciate with justice. We have fallen upon an xra 
 singularly prolific in extraordinary personages, and dignified by 
 splendid events. Much is expected from the selections of the ju 
 dicious biographer, as well as from the labours of the faithful his 
 torian. Whatever prudential reasons may now occur to postpone 
 the portrait of our own times, the difficulties which oppose them 
 selves to the execution, instead of being diminished, will increase 
 with the lapse of years. Every day will extinguish some life that 
 was dear to fame, and obliterate the memorial of some deed which 
 would have constituted the delight and admiration of the world. 
 
 So transient and indistinguishable are the traits of character, so 
 various and inexplicable the springs of action, so obscure and pe 
 rishable the remembrance of human affairs, that, unless attempts 
 are made to sketch the picture, while the present generation is 
 living, the likeness will be for ever lost, or only preserved by a 
 vague recollection ; disguised, perhaps, by the whimsical colour 
 ings of a creative imagination. 
 
 It will, doubtless, hereafter be an object of regret, that those 
 who, having themselves been conspicuous actors on the theatre of 
 public life, and who, in conjunction with a knowledge of facts, pos 
 sess abilities to paint those characters, and describe those events 
 which, during the progress of the American Revolution, interested 
 and astonished mankind, should feel an insuperable reluctance to 
 assume the task a task which, if executed with fidelity, must, 
 from the dignity of its subject, become grateful to the patriots of 
 all nations, and profitable in example to the remotest posterity. 
 Equally severe will be the mortification of contemplating the reve 
 ries and fictions which have been substituted by hacknied writers
 
 246 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 in the place of historical facts. Nor should we suppress our indig 
 nation against that class of professional authors, who, placed in 
 the vale of penury and obscurity, at an immense distance from the 
 scenes of action, and all opportunities of acquiring the necessary 
 documents, with insufferable effrontery, obtrude their fallacious 
 and crude performances on a credulous public. Did the result of 
 their lucubrations terminate only in relieving their own distresses, 
 or gratifying their individual vanity, it might be passed in silent 
 contempt. But the effect is extensive, permanent, and pernicious. 
 The lie,* however improbable or monstrous, which has once as 
 sumed the semblance of truth, by being often repeated with mi 
 nute and plausible particulars, is, at length, so thoroughly esta 
 blished, as to obtain universal credit, defy contradiction, and frus 
 trate every effort of refutation. Such is the mischief, such are the 
 unhappy consequences on the bewildered mind, that the reader 
 has no alternative, but to become the dupe of his credulity, or dis 
 trust the veracity of almost all human testimony. After having 
 long been the sport of fiction, he will, perhaps, probably run into 
 the opposite extreme, and give up all confidence in the annals of 
 ancient as well as modern times ; and thus the easy believer of 
 fine fables and marvellous stories will find, at last, his historical 
 faith change to scepticism, and end in infidelity. 
 
 The numerous errors and falsehoods relative to the birth and 
 achievements of Major-General Putnam, which have (at a for. 
 mer period) been circulated with assiduity on both sides of the At 
 lantic, and the uncertainty which appeared to prevail with respect 
 to his real character,! first produced the resolution of writing this 
 
 * The writer had here particularly in his eye the Rhapsody palmed 
 upon the public, under the name of a history, by a certain Frenchman, 
 called D'Auberteiul : Perhaps so much falsehood, folly, and calumny 
 was never before accumulated in a single performance. 
 
 t The following lines are extracted from a Poem, entitled, " The Pros* 
 pect of America," written by the late ingenious Dr. Ladd, 
 
 " Hail Putnam ! hail thou venerable name! 
 " Though dark oblivion threats thy mighty fame, 
 " It threats in vain for long shalt thou be known, 
 " Who first in virtue and in battle shone, 
 " When fourscore years had blanch'd thy laurel'd head, 
 " Strong in thine age, the flame of war was spread." 
 
 On ivbicb Dr. Ladd made this note : 
 
 " The brave Putnam seems to have been almost obscured amidst the 
 " glare of succeeding worthies ; but his early and gallant services entitle 
 " him to an everlasting remembrance." 
 
 Other bards have also asserted the glory of this venerable veteran. In
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 247 
 
 essay on his life, and induced the Editor to obtain* materials from 
 that hero himself. If communications of such authenticity, if per 
 sonal intimacy as an aid-de-camp to that General, or if subsequent 
 military employments, which afforded access to sources f of intel- 
 
 the first concise review of the principal American heroes who signalized 
 themselves in the last war, the same character is thus represented : 
 " There stood stern Putnam, seam'd with many a scar, 
 " The veteran honours of an early war." 
 
 The Vision of Columbus, Book V. 
 
 * The Editor seizes, with eagerness, an opportunity of acknowleflging, 
 his obligations to Dr. Albigence Waldo, who was so obliging as to com 
 mit to writing many anecdotes, communicated to him by General Putnam, 
 in the course of the present year. 
 
 f A multitude of proofs might be produced to demonstrate that military 
 facts cannot always be accurately known but by the Commander in Chief, 
 and his confidential officers. The Marquis de Chastelleux (whose op 
 portunity to acquire genuine information, respecting those parts of the 
 American war which he hath casually mentioned, was better than that of 
 any other writer) gives an account of a grand forage which General Heath 
 ordered to be made towards King's-bridge in the autumn of 1780. The 
 Marquis, who was present when the detachment marched, and to whom 
 General Heath showed the orders that were given to General Stark, the 
 commanding officer of the expedition, observes, that he had never seen, in 
 manuscript or print, more pertinent instructions. Now the fact is, that 
 this detachment, under the pretext of a forage, was intended by the Com 
 mander in Chief to co-operate with the main army in an attempt against 
 the enemy's posts on York Island ; and that General Heath himself was 
 then ignorant of the real design. The Commander in Chief spent a whole 
 campaign in ripening this project. Boats, mounted on travelling carriages/ 
 were kept constantly with the army. The Marquis de la Fayette, at the 
 head of the light infantry, was to have made the attack in the night on 
 Fort Washington. The period chosen for this enterprize was the very 
 time when the army were to break up their camp, and march into winter 
 quarters ; so that the Commander in Chief, moving in the dusk of the 
 evening, would have been on the banks of the Hudson, with his whole 
 force, to have supported the attack. The cautious manner in which the 
 co-operation on the part of the troops sent by General Heath, on the pre 
 tended forage, was to have been conducted, will be understood from the 
 following secret instructions. 
 
 " To Brigadier-General STARK. 
 
 Head Quarters, Passaic-Falls, Nov. 21, 1780. 
 " SIR, 
 
 " Colonel Humphreys, one of my Aids-de-camp, is charged 
 " by me, with orders of a private and particular nature, which he is to de-
 
 248 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 ligence not open to others, give the writer any advantages, the 
 unbiassed mind will decide how far they exculpate him from the 
 
 " liver to you, and which you are to obey. He will inform you of the ne- 
 " cessity of this mode of communication. 
 " I am, Sir, &.c. 
 
 " G. WASHINGTON." 
 
 " To Lieutenant-Colonel DAVID HUMPHREYS, A. D. Camp. 
 " SIR, 
 
 " You are immediately to proceed' to West-Point, and 
 " communicate the business committed to you, in confidence, to Major- 
 " General Heath, and to no other person whatsoever ; from thence you 
 " will repair to the detachment at the White-Plains, on Friday next, tak- 
 " ing measures to prevent their leaving that place before you get to 
 " them. And, in the course of the succeeding night, you may inform the 
 " commanding officer of the enterprize in contemplation against the 
 " enemy's posts on York Island. 
 
 " As the troops are constantly to lie on their arms, no previous notice 
 " should be given ; but they may be put in motion precisely at four o'clock, 
 " and commence a slow and regular march to King's-bridge, until they 
 " shall discover, or be informed of the concerted signals being made when 
 " the march must be pressed with the greatest rapidity. Parties of horse 
 " should be sent forward to keep a look out for the signals. 
 
 " Although the main body ought to be kept compact, patrcles of horse 
 " and light parties might be sent towards East and West Chester: and 
 " upon the signals being discovered, Sheldon's regiment, and the Connec- 
 " ticut State troops (which may also be put in motion as soon as the or- 
 " ders can be communicated after four o'clock) should be pushed forward 
 ' to intercept any of the enemy who may attempt to gain Frog's Neck, 
 " and to cut off the Refugee-corps at Morissania. A few men, with 
 " some address, may spread such an alarm as to prevent an attempt of 
 " the enemy to retreat to Frog's Neck, from an apprehension of sur- 
 * rounding parties. 
 
 " You will communicate these instructions to the commanding officer 
 " of the detachment, who, upon his approach to King's-bridge, will re- 
 * ceive orders from me as early as possible. 
 
 " Should the signals not be discovered, the troops will halt at least six 
 " miles from the bridge, until further intelligence can be obtained. 
 
 " The absolute necessity of the most perfect secrecy is the occasion of 
 " communicating my orders through this channel. 
 
 " Given at Head Quarters, Passaic- Falls, this 22d day of Nov. 1780. 
 
 " G. WASHINGTON." 
 
 Never was a plan better arranged: and never did circumstances pro 
 mise more sure or complete success. The British were not only unalarmed, 
 but our own troops were likewise entirely misguided in their expectations.
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 249 
 
 imputations of that officiousness, ignorance and presumption, 
 which, in others, have been reprehended with severity.- He only 
 Wishes that a premature and unfavourable construction may not 
 be formed of his motive or object. Should this essay have any in 
 fluence in correcting mistakes, or rescuing from oblivion the ac 
 tions of that distinguished veteran ; should it create an emulation 
 to copy his domestic, manly and heroic virtues ; or should it 
 prompt some more skilful hand to pourtray the illustrious groupe 
 of patriots, sages, and heroes, who have guided our councils, 
 fought our battles, and adorned the memorable epocha of inde 
 pendence, it will be an ample compensation for the trouble, and 
 fcxcite a consolatory reflection through every vicissitude of life. 
 
 ISRAEL PUTNAM, who, through a regular gradation of pro 
 motion, became the senior Major-General in the army of the 
 United States, and next in rank to General Washington, was 
 born at Salem, in the Province (now State) of Massachusetts, 
 on the 7th day of January, 1718. His father, Captain Joseph 
 Putnam, was the son of Mr. John Putnam, who, with two bro 
 thers, came from the south of England, and were among the 
 .first settlers of Salem. 
 
 When we thus behold a person, from the humble walks of life, 
 starting unnoticed in the career of fame, and, by an undeviating 
 progress through a life of honour, arriving at the highest dignity 
 in the state, curiosity is strongly excited, and philosophy loves 
 to trace the path of glory from the cradle of obscurity to the 
 summit of elevation. 
 
 Although our ancestors, the first settlers of this land, amidst 
 the extreme pressure of poverty and danger, early instituted 
 schools for the education of youth designed for the learned pro- 
 
 The accidental intervention of some vessels prevented, at this time, the 
 attempt; which was more than once resumed afterwards. Notwithstand 
 ing this favourite project was not ultimately effected, it was evidently not 
 less bold in conception or feasible in accomplishment, than that attempted 
 so successfully at Trenton, or than that which was brought to so glori 
 ous an issue in the successful siege of York-Town. 
 
 It is true, the Marquis de Chastelleux, whose professional knowledge 
 and fountain-head intelligence have enabled him to describe several 
 actions better than they are elsewhere described, speaks in this instance 
 of an ulterior object ; and says, that secrets were preserved more inviola 
 bly in the American than in the French army. His words are: 
 
 " C'est que le secret est garde tres exactement a 1'armee Americaine; 
 " peu de pe sonnes ont part a la confiance du Chef, et en general on y 
 " parle moins que dans les armees Francoises des operations de la guerre, 
 " et de ce que 1'on appelle chez nous les Nouvelles." 
 
 2K
 
 350 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 fessions, yet it was thought sufficient to instruct those destined t 
 , labour on the earth, in reading, writing, and such rudiments of 
 arithmetic as might be requisite for keeping the accounts of their 
 little transactions with each other. Few farmers' sons had more 
 advantages, none less. In this state of mediocrity it was the lot 
 of young Putnam to be placed. His early instruction was not 
 considerable, and the active scenes of life in which he was after 
 wards engaged, prevented the opportunity of great literary im 
 provement. His numerous original letters, though deficient in 
 scholastic accuracy, always display the goodness of his heart, and 
 frequently the strength of his native genius. He had a certain 
 laconic mode of expression, and an unaffected epigrammatic turn, 
 which characterised most of his writings. 
 
 To compensate partially for the deficiency of education (though 
 nothing can remove or counterbalance the inconveniencies expe 
 rienced from it in public life) he derived from his parents the 
 source of innumerable advantages in the stamina of a vigorous 
 constitution. Nature, liberal in bestowing on him bodily strength, 
 hardiness, and activity, was by no means parsimonious in mental 
 endowments. While we leave the qualities of the understanding 
 to be developed in the process of life, it may not be improper, in, 
 this place, to designate some of the circumstances which were 
 calculated to distinguish him afterwards as a parti z an officer. 
 
 Courage, enterprize, activity, and perseverance were the first 
 characteristics of his mind. There is a kind of mechanical cou 
 rage, the offspring of pride, habit, or discipline, that may push 
 a coward not only to perform his duty, but even to venture on 
 acts of heroism. Putnam's courage was of a different species. 
 It was ever attended with a serenity of soiil, a clearness of con 
 ception, a degree of self-possession, and a superiority to all the 
 vicissitudes of fortune, entirely distinct from any thing that can 
 be produced by the ferment of blood, and flutter of spirits ; which, 
 not unfrequently, precipitate men to action, when stimulated by 
 intoxication or some other transient exhilaration. The heroic 
 character, thus founded on constitution and animal spirits, che 
 rished by education and ideas of personal freedom, confirmed by 
 temperance and habits of exercise, was completed by the dictate 
 of reason, the love cf his country, and an invincible sense of duty. 
 Such were the qualities and principles that enabled him to meet 
 unappalled, the shafts of adversity, and to pass in triumph 
 through the furnace of affliction. 
 
 His disposition was as frank and generous as his mind was 
 fearless and independent. He disguised nothing ; indeed he seemed 
 incapable of disguise. Perhaps, in the intercourse he was ulti-
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL POTNAM. 251 
 
 mately obliged to have with an artful world, his sincerity, on 
 some occasions, outwent his discretion. Although he had too 
 much suavity in his nature to commence a quarrel, he had too 
 much sensibility not to feel, and too much honour not to resent an 
 intended insult. The first time he went to Boston he was in 
 sulted for his rusticity by a boy of twice his size and age ; after 
 bearing the sarcasms until his patience was worn out, he chal 
 lenged, engaged, and vanquished his unmannerly antagonist, to 
 the great diversion of a crowd of spectators. While a stripling, 
 his ambition was to perform the labour of a man, and to excel in 
 athletic diversions. In that rude, but masculine age, whenever 
 the village-youth assembled on their usual occasions of festivity, 
 pitching the bar, running, leaping, and wrestling were favourite 
 amusements. At such gymnastic exercises (in which, during the 
 heroic times of ancient Greece and Rome, conquest was consi 
 dered as the promise of future military fame) he bore the palm 
 from almost every ring. 
 
 Before the refinements of luxury, and the consequent increase 
 of expenses had rendered the maintenance of a family inconveni 
 ent or burdensome in America, the sexes entered into matrimony 
 at an early age. Competence, attainable by all, was the limit of 
 pursuit. After the hardships of making a new settlement were 
 overcome, and the evils of penury removed, the inhabitants 
 enjoyed, in the lot of equality, innocence and security, scenes 
 equally delightful with those pictured by the glowing imagination 
 of the poets in their favourite pastoral life, or fabulous golden age. 
 Indeed, the condition of mankind was never more enviable. Nei 
 ther disparity of age and fortune, nor schemes of ambition and 
 grandeur, nor the pride and avarice of high-minded and merce 
 nary parents, interposed those obstacles to the union of congenial 
 souls, which frequently in more polished society prevent, imbitter 
 or destroy all the felicity of the connubial state. Mr. Putnam, 
 before he attained the twenty-first year of his age, married Miss 
 Pope, daughter of Mr. John Pope, of Salem, by whom he had ten 
 children, seven of whom are still living. He lost the wife of his 
 youth in 1764. Some time after he married Mrs. Gardiner, wi 
 dow of the late Mr. Gardiner, of Gardiner's Island, by whom he 
 had no issue. She died in 1777. 
 
 In the year 1739, he removed from Salem to Pomfret, an inland 
 fertile town in Connecticut, forty miles east of Hartford. Having 
 here purchased a considerable tract of land, he applied himself 
 successfully to agriculture. 
 
 The first years, on a new farm, ai-e not, however, exempt from 
 disasters and disappointments, which can only be remedied by
 
 352 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 stubborn and patient industry. Our farmer, sufficiently occupied 
 in building an house and barn, felling woods, making fences, sow 
 ing grain, planting orchards, and taking care of his stock, had tq 
 encounter, in turn, the calamities occasioned by drought in sum 
 mer, blast in harvest, loss of cattle in winter, and the desolation 
 of his sheep-fold by wolves. In one night he had seventy fine sheep 
 and goats killed, besides many lambs and kids wounded. This 
 havock was committed by a she -wolf, which, with her annual whelps, 
 had for several years infested the vicinity. The young were com^ 
 monly destroyed by the vigilance of the hunters, but the old one 
 was too sagacious to come within reach of gun-shot : upon being 
 closely pursued, she would generally fly to the western woods, and 
 return the next winter with another litter of whelps. 
 
 This wolf, at length, became such an intolerable nuisance that 
 Mr. Putnam entered into a combination with five of his neighbours 
 to hunt alternately until they could destroy her. Two, by rota 
 tion, were to be constantly in pursuit. It was known, that, having 
 lost the toes from one foot, by a steel-trap, she made one track 
 shorter than the other. By this vestige the pursuers recognized, 
 in a light snow, the route of this pernicious animal. Having fol 
 lowed her to Connecticut river, and found she had turned back in 
 a direct course towards Pomfret, they immediately returned, and 
 by ten o'clock the next morning the blood-hounds had driven her 
 into a den, about three miles distant from the house of Mr. Put 
 nam : The people soon collected with dogs, guns, straw, fire, and 
 sulphur, to attack the common enemy. Witli this apparatus, se 
 veral unsuccessful efforts were made to force her from the den. 
 The hounds came back badly wounded, and refused to return. The 
 smoke of blazing straw had no effect. Nor did the fumes of burnt 
 brimstone, with which the cavern was filled, compel her to quit 
 the retirement. Wearied with such fruitless attempts, (which had 
 brought the time to ten o'clock at night) Mr. Putnam tried once 
 more to make his dog enter, but in vain. He proposed to his 
 negro man to go clown into the cavern and shoot the wolf: the ne 
 gro declined the hazardous service. Then it was that the mas 
 ter, angry at the disappointment, and declaring that he was 
 ashamed to have a coward in his family, resolved himself to de 
 stroy the ferocious beast, lest she should escape through some un 
 known fissure of the rock. His neighbours strongly remonstrated 
 against the perilous enterprize: but he, knowing that wild animals 
 were intimidated by fire, and having provided several strips of 
 birch-bark, the only combustible material which he could obtain 
 that would afford light in this deep and darksome cave, prepared 
 for his descent. Having, accordingly, divested himself of his coat
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 253 
 
 and waistcoat, and having a long rope fastened round his legs, by 
 which he might be pulled back, at a concerted signal, he entered 
 head-foremost, with the blazing torch in his hand. 
 
 The aperture of the den, on the east side of a very high ledge 
 of rocks, is about two feet square ; from thence it descends ob 
 liquely fifteen feet, then running horizontally about ten more, it 
 ascends gradually sixteen feet towards its termination. The sides 
 of this subterraneous cavity are composed of smooth and solid 
 rocks, which seem to have been divided from each other by some 
 former earthquake. The top and bottom are also of stone, and the 
 entrance, in winter, being covered with ice, is exceedingly slip 
 pery. It is in no place high enough for a man to raise himself up 
 right, nor in any part more than three feet in width. 
 
 Having groped his passage to the horizontal part of the den, the 
 most terrifying darkness appeared in front of the dim circle of 
 light afforded by his torch. It was silent as the house of death. 
 None but monsters of the desert had ever before explored this so 
 litary mansion of horror. He, cautiously proceeding omvard, came 
 to the ascent, which he slowly mounted on his hands and knees, 
 until he discovered the glaring eye-balls of the wolf, who was sit 
 ting at the extremity of the cavern. Started at the sight of fire, 
 she gnashed her teeth, and gave a sullen growl. As soon as he had 
 made the necessary discovery, he kicked the rope as a signal for 
 pulling him out. The people at the mouth of the den, who had 
 listened with painful anxiety, hearing the growling of the wolf, and 
 supposing their friend to be in the most imminent danger, drew 
 him forth with such celerity r that his shirt was stripped over his 
 head, and his skin severely lacerated. After he had adjusted his 
 clothes, and loaded his gun with nine buck-shot, holding a torch in 
 one hand, and the musquet in the other, he descended the second 
 time. When he drew nearer than before, the wolf, assuming a 
 still more fierce and terrible appearance, howling, rolling her eyes, 
 snapping her teeth, and dropping her head between her legs, was 
 evidently in the attitude, and on the point of springing at him. At 
 the critical instant he levelled and fired at her head. Stunned 
 with the shock, and suffocated with the smoke, he immediately- 
 found himself drawn out of the cave. But having refreshed him 
 self, and permitted the smoke to dissipate, he went down the third 
 time. Once more he came within sight of the wolf, who appear 
 ing very passive, he applied the torch to her nose ; and perceiv 
 ing her dead, he took hold of her eai*s, and then kicking the rope 
 (still tied round his legs) the people above, with no small exulta 
 tion, dragged them both out together.
 
 254 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 I have offered these facts in greater detail, because they contain 
 a display of character; and because they have been erroneously 
 related in several European publications, and very much muti 
 lated in the history of Connecticut, a work as replete "with false 
 hood as destitute of genius, lately printed in London. 
 
 Prosperity, at length, began to attend the agricultural affairs of 
 Mr. Putnam. He was acknowledged to be a skilful and indefa 
 tigable manager. His fields were mostly enclosed with stone 
 walls. His crops commonly succeeded, because the land was well 
 tilled and manured. His pastures and meadows became luxuriant. 
 His cattle were of the best breed, and in good order. His garden 
 and fruit-trees prolific. With the avails of the surplusage of his 
 produce, foreign articles were purchased. Within doors he found 
 the compensation of his labours in the plenty of excellent provi 
 sions, as well as in the happiness of domestic society. 
 
 A more particular description of his transition from narrow to 
 easy circumstances might be given ; but the mind that shall have 
 acquired an idea of the habits of labour and simplicity, to which 
 the industrious colonists were accustomed, will readily supply the 
 omission. The effect of this gradual acquisition of property, ge 
 nerally favourable to individual virtue and public felicity, should 
 not, however, be passed over in silence. If there is something fas 
 cinating in the charms of a country life, from the contemplation of 
 beautiful landscapes, there is likewise something elevating to the 
 soul, in the consciousness of being lord of the soil, and having the 
 power of creating them. The man can scarcely be guilty of a sor 
 did action, or even descend to an ungenerous thought, who, re 
 moved from the apprehension of want, sees his farm daily melio 
 rating and assuming whatever appearance he pleases to prescribe. 
 This situation converts the farmer into a species of rural philoso 
 pher, by inspiring an honest pride in his rank as a fi'eeman, flat 
 tering the natural propensity for personal independence, and nou 
 rishing an unlimited hospitality and philanthropy in his social cha 
 racter. 
 
 But the time had now arrived which was to turn the instru 
 ments of husbandry into weapons of hostility, and to exchange 
 the hunting of wolves, who had ravaged the bheep-folds, for the 
 pursuit after savages, who had desolated the frontiers. Mr. Put 
 nam was about thirty-seven years old when the war between England 
 and France, which preceded the last, broke out in America. His 
 reputation must have been favourably known to the government, 
 since among the first troops that were levied by Connecticut in 
 1755, he was appointed to the command of a company in Lyman's 
 regiment of Provincials. I have mentioned his age at this period
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 255 
 
 expressly to obviate a prevalent opinion, that he was far advanced 
 in life when he commenced his military service. 
 
 As he was extremely popular, he found no difficulty in enlist 
 ing his complement of recruits from the most hardy, enterpriz- 
 ing, and respectable young men of his neighbourhood. The regi 
 ment joined the army, at the opening of the campaign, not far 
 distant from Crown-Point. Soon after his arrival at camp, he 
 became acquainted with the famous partizan Captain, afterwards 
 Major Rogers, with whom he was frequently associated in tra 
 versing the wilderness, reconnoitering the enemy's lines, gaining 
 intelligence, and taking straggling prisoners, as well as in beat 
 ing up the quarters and surprising the advanced pickets of their 
 army. For these operations, a corps of rangers were formed 
 from the irregulars. The first time Rogers and Putnam were 
 detached with a party of these light troops, it was the fortune of 
 the latter to preserve, with his own hand, the life of the former, 
 and to cement their friendship with the blood of one of their 
 enemies. 
 
 The object of this expedition was to obtain an accurate know 
 ledge of the position and state of the works at Crown-Point. It 
 was impracticable to approach with their party near enough for 
 this purpose, without being discovered. Alone, the undertaking 
 was sufficiently hazardous, on account of the swarms of hostile 
 Indians who infested the woods. Our two partizans, however, 
 left all their men at a convenient distance, with strict orders to 
 continue concealed until their return. Having thus cautiously 
 taken their arrangements, they advanced with the profoundest 
 silence in the evening; and lay, during the night, contiguous to 
 the fortress. Early in the morning they approached so close as 
 to be able to give satisfactory information to the General who had 
 sent them, on the several points to which their attention had been 
 directed: but Captain Rogers, being at a little distance from 
 Captain Putnam, fortuitously met a stout Frenchman, who in 
 stantly seized his fuzee with one hand, and with the other at 
 tempted to stab him, while he called to an adjacent guard for 
 assistance. The guard answered. Putnam, perceiving the im 
 minent danger of his friend, and that no time was to be lost, or 
 farther alarm given by firing, ran rapidly to them, while they 
 were yet struggling, and with the but-end of his piece, laid the 
 Frenchman dead at his feet. The partizans, to elude pursuit, 
 precipitated their flight, joined the party, and returned without 
 loss to the encampment. Not many occasions occurred for par 
 tizans to display their talents in the course of this summer. The 
 war was chequered with various fortune in different quarters
 
 2*6 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 such as the total defeat of General Braddock, and the splendid 
 victory of Sir William Johnson over the French troops, com 
 manded by the Baron Dieskau. The brilliancy of this success was 
 necessary to console the Americans for the disgrace of that disaster. 
 Here I might, indeed, take a pride in contrasting the conduct of 
 the British Regulars, who had been ambuscaded on the Mononga- 
 hela, with that of the Provincials (under Johnson) who, having 
 been attacked in their lines, gallantly repulsed the enemy, and 
 took their General prisoner, did I consider myself at liberty to 
 swell this essay with reflections on events, in which Putnam Avas 
 not directly concerned. The time for which the colonial troops 
 engaged to serve terminated with the campaign. Putnam was 
 re -appointed, and again took the field in 1756. 
 
 Few are so ignorant of war as not to know, that military ad 
 ventures in the night are always extremely liable to accidents. 
 Captain Putnam having been commanded to reconnoitre the ene 
 my's camp at the Ovens, near Ticonderoga, took the brave Lieu 
 tenant Robert Durkee as his companion. In attempting to exe 
 cute these orders, he narrowly missed being taken himself in the 
 first instance, and killing his friend in the second. It was cus 
 tomary for the British and Provincial troops to place their fires 
 round their camp, which frequently exposed them to the enemy's 
 scouts and patroles. A contrary practice, then unknown in the 
 English army, prevailed among the French and Indians. The 
 plan was much more rational ; they kept their fires in the centre, 
 lodged their men circularly at a distance, and posted their cen- 
 tinels in the surrounding darkness. Our partizans approached 
 the camp and supposing the Gentries were within the circle of 
 fires, crept upon their hands and knees with the greatest pos* 
 sible caution, until, to their utter astonishment, they found them 
 selves in the thickest of the enemy. The centinels, discovering 
 them, fired, and slightly wounded Durkee in the thigh. He and 
 Putnam had no alternative. They fled. The latter being fore 
 most, and scarcely able to see his hand before him, soon plunged 
 into a clay-pit. Durkee, almost at the identical moment, came 
 tumbling after. Putnam, by no means pleased at finding a com-> 
 panion, and believing him to be one of the enemy, lifted his to 
 mahawk to give the deadly blow when Durkee (who hacl fol 
 lowed so closely as to know him) inquired whether he had 
 escaped unhurt. Captain Putnam, instantly recognizing the voice, 
 dropped his weapon; and both, springing from the pit, made 
 good their retreat to the neighbouring ledges, amidst a shower of 
 random shot. There they betook themselves to a large log, by 
 the side of which they lodged the remainder of the night. Before
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 257 
 
 they lay down, Captain Putnam said he had a little rum in his 
 canteen, which could never be more acceptable or necessary ; but, 
 on examining the canteen, which hung under his arm, he found 
 the enemy had pierced it with their balls, and that there was not 
 a drop of liquor left. The next day he found fourteen bullet 
 holes in his blanket. 
 
 In the same summer, a body of the enemy, consisting of six 
 hundred men, attacked the baggage and provision waggons at a 
 place called the Half-Way-Brook; it being equi-distant from Fort 
 Edward and the south end of Lake George. Having killed the 
 oxen, and plundered the waggons, they retreated with their booty 
 without having met with such resistance as might have been ex 
 pected from the strength of the escort. General Webb, upon re 
 ceiving intelligence of this disaster, ordered the Captains Putnam 
 and Rogers " to take one hundred volunteers in boats, with two 
 " wall-pieces, and two blunderbusses, and to proceed down Lake 
 " George to a certain point, there to leave the batteaux un- 
 " der a proper guai'd, and thence to cross by land, so as to ha- 
 " rass, and, if practicable, intei-cept the retreating enemy at the 
 " Narrows." These orders were executed with so much punctu 
 ality, that the party arrived at the destined place half an hour be 
 fore the hostile boats came in view. Here they waited, under co 
 ver, until the enemy (ignorant of these proceedings) entered the 
 Narrows, with their batteaux loaded with plunder. Then the vo 
 lunteers poured upon them volley after volley, killed many of the 
 oarsmen, sunk a number of the batteaux, and would soon have de 
 stroyed the whole body of the enemy, had not the unusual preci 
 pitancy of their passage (favoured by the wind) carried them 
 through the Narrows into the wide part of South-Bay, where they 
 were out of the reach of musket-shot. The shattered remnant of 
 the little fleet soon arrived at Ticonderoga, and gave information 
 that Putnam and Rogers were at the Narrows. A fresh party 
 was instantly detached to cut them in pieces, on their return to 
 Fort Edward. Our partizans, sensible of the probability of such 
 an attempt, and being full twenty miles from their boats, strained 
 every nerve to reach them as soon as possible ; which they ef 
 fected the same night. Next day, when they had returned as far 
 as Sabbath-Day-Point, they discovered, on shore, the before- 
 mentioned detachment of three hundred men, who had passed 
 them in the night, and who now, on perceiving our party, took 
 to their boats with the greatest alacrity, and rowed out to give bat 
 tle. They advanced in line, maintaining a good mein, and feli 
 citating themselves upon the prospect of an easy conquest, from the 
 great superiority of their numbers. Flushed with these expecta 
 
 2L
 
 J58 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 tions, they were permitted to come within pistol-shot before a gun 
 was fired. At once the wall-pieces and blunderbusses, which had 
 been brought to rake them in the most vulnerable point, were dis 
 charged. As no such reception had been foreseen, the assailants 
 were thrown into the utmost disorder. Their terror and confu 
 sion were greatly increased by a well-directed and most destruc 
 tive fire of the small arms. The larger pieces being re-loacLed, 
 without annoyance, continued, alternately with the musketry, to 
 make dreadful havock, until the rout was completed, and the 
 enemy driven back to Ticonderoga. In this action, one of the 
 bark canoes contained twenty Indians, of whom fifteen were killed. 
 Great numbers, from other boats, both of French and Indians, were 
 seen to fall overboard : but the account of their total loss could ne 
 ver be ascertained. Rogers and Putnam had but one man killed, 
 and two slightly wounded. They now landed on the Point, and 
 having refreshed their men at leisure, returned in good order to 
 the British camp. 
 
 Soon after these rencounters, a singular kind of race was run 
 by our nimble-footed Provincial and an active young Frenchman. 
 The liberty of each was by turns at stake. General Webb, want 
 ing a prisoner for the sake of intelligence, sent Captain Putnam, 
 with five men, to procure one. The Captain concealed himself near 
 the road which leads from Ticonderoga to the Ovens, His men 
 seemed fond of showing themselves, which unsoldier-like conduct 
 he prohibited with the severest reprehension. This rebuke they 
 imputed to unnecessary fear. The observation is as true as vulgar, 
 that persons distinguishable for temerity, when there is no appa 
 rent danger, are generally poltroons whenever danger approaches. 
 They had not lain long in the high grass before a Frenchman 
 and an Indian passed the Indian was considerably in advance. 
 As soon as the former had gone by, Putnam, relying on the fide 
 lity of his men, sprang up, ran, and ordered them to follow. Af 
 ter running about thirty rods, he seized the Frenchman by the 
 shoulders, and forced himv to surrender : But his prisoner, look 
 ing round, perceiving no other enemy, and knowing the Indian 
 would be ready in a moment to assist him, began to make an ob 
 stinate resistance. Putnam, finding himself betrayed by his men 
 into a perilous dilemma, let go his hold, stepped back and snap 
 ped his piece, which was levelled at the Frenchman's breast. It 
 missed fire. Upon this he thought it most prudent to retreat. 
 The Frenchman, in turn, chased him back to his men, who, at 
 last, raised themselves from the grass ; which his pursuer espying 
 in good time for himself, made his escape. Putnam, mortified 
 that these men had frustrated his success, dismissed them with
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 259 
 
 disgrace ; and not long after accomplished his object. Such little 
 feats as the capture of a single prisoner may be of infinitely more 
 consequence than some, who are unacquainted with military af 
 fairs, would be apt to imagine. In a country covered with woods, 
 like that part of America, then the seat of war, the difficulty of 
 procuring, and the importance of possessing good intelligence, can 
 scarcely be conceived even by European commanders. They, 
 however, who know its value, will not appreciate lightly the ser 
 vices of an able partizan. 
 
 Nothing worthy of remark happened during this campaign, ex 
 cept the loss of Oswego. That fort, which had been built by Ge 
 neral Shirley, to protect the peltry trade, cover the country on the 
 Mohawk-River, and facilitate an invasion of Canada, by Fronte- 
 nac and Niagara, fell into the hands of the enemy, with a garri 
 son of sixteen hundred men, and one hundred pieces of cannon. 
 
 The active services of Captain Putnam, on every occasion, at 
 tracted the admiration of the public, and induced the Legislature 
 of Connecticut to promote him to a majority in 1757. 
 
 Lord London was then Commander in Chief of the British for 
 ces in America. The expedition against Crown-Point, which, 
 from the commencement of hostilities, had been in contemplation, 
 seemed to give place to a more important operation that was me 
 ditated against Louisbourg. But the arrival of the Brest squadron 
 at that place prevented the attempt; and the loss of Fort William 
 Henry served to class this with the two former unsuccessful cam 
 paigns. It was rumoured, and partially credited at the time, that 
 General Webb, who commanded in the northern department, had 
 early intimation of the movement of the French army, and might 
 have effectually succoured the garrison. The subsequent facts 
 will place the affair in its proper light. 
 
 A few days before the siege, Major Putnam, with two hundred 
 men, escorted General Webb from Fort Edward to Fort William 
 Henry. The object was to examine the state of this fortification, 
 which stood at the southern extremity of Lake George. Several 
 abortive attempts having been made by Major Rogers and others 
 in the night season, Major Putnam proposed to go down the lake 
 in open day-light, land at Northwest-Bay, and tarry on shore un 
 til he could make satisfactory discovery of the enemy's actual situ 
 ation at Ticonderoga and the adjacent posts. The plan (which 
 he suggested) of landing with only five men, and sending back the 
 boats, to prevent detection, was deemed too hazardous by the 
 General, At length, however, he was permitted to proceed with 
 eighteen volunteers in three whale-boats ; but before he arrived at 
 Northwest-Bay, he discovered a body of men on an island, Imme-
 
 260 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 diately upon this he left two boats to fish at a distance, that they 
 might not occasion an alarm, and returned himself with the infor 
 mation. The General, seeing him rowing back with great velo 
 city, in a single boat, concluded the others were captured, and 
 sent a skiff, with orders for him alone to come on shore. After ad 
 vising the General of the circumstances, he urged the expediency 
 of returning to make further discoveries, and bring off the boats. 
 Leave was reluctantly given. He found his people, and, passing 
 still onward, discovered (by the aid of a good perspective glass) 
 a large army in motion. By this time several of the advanced ca 
 noes had nearly surrounded him, but by the swiftness of his whale- 
 boats, he escaped through the midst of them. On his return, he 
 informed the General minutely of all he had seen, and intimated 
 his conviction that the expedition must obviously be destined 
 against Fort William Henry. That Commander, strictly enjoin 
 ing silence on the subject, directed him to put his men under an 
 oath of secrecy, and to prepare, without loss of time, to return to 
 the Head-Quarters of the army. Major Putnam observed, " he 
 " hoped his Excellency did not intend to neglect so fair an oppor- 
 " tunity of giving battle, should the enemy presume to land." 
 "What do you think we should do here?" replied the General. 
 Accordingly, the next day he returned, and the day after Colonel 
 Monro was ordered from Fort Edward, with his regiment, to re 
 inforce the garrison. That officer took with him all his rich bag 
 gage and camp equipage, notwithstanding Major Putnam's advice 
 to the contrary. The day following his arrival, the enemy landed 
 and besieged the place. 
 
 The Marquis de Montcalm, Commander in Chief for the 
 French in Canada (intending to take advantage of the absence of 
 a large proportion of the British force, which he understood to 
 be employed under Lord Loudon against Louisbourg) had assem 
 bled whatever men could be spared from Ticonderoga, Crown- 
 Point and the other garrisons: with these he had combined a con 
 siderable corps of Canadians, and a larger body of Indians than 
 had ever before been collected; making, in the whole, an army of 
 nearly eight thousand men. Our garrison consisted of twenty-five 
 hundred, and was commanded by Colonel Monro, a very gallant 
 officer, who found the means of sending express after express to 
 General Webb, with an account of his situation, and the most 
 pressing solicitation for succour. In the mean time, the army at 
 Fort Edward, which originally amounted to about four thousand, 
 had been considerably augmented by Johnson's troops and the mi 
 litia. On the eighth or ninth day after the landing of the French, 
 General Johnson (in consequence of repeated applications) was
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM* 261 
 
 suffered to march, for the relief of the garrison, with all the Pro 
 vincials, Militia, and Putnam's Rangers: but before they had pro 
 ceeded three miles, the order was countermanded, and they re 
 turned. M. de Montcalm informed Major Putnam, when a pri 
 soner in Canada, that one of his running Indians saw and reported 
 this movement ; and, upon being questioned relatively to the num 
 bers, answered in their figurative stile, " If you can count the 
 leaves on the trees, you can count them.'" In effect, the opera 
 tions of the siege were suspended, and preparations made for 
 re-emharking, when another of the runners reported that the 
 detachment had gone back. The Marquis de Montcalm, provided 
 with a good train of artillery, meeting with no annoyance from 
 the British army, and but inconsiderable interruption from the 
 garrison, accelerated his approaches so rapidly, as to obtain pos 
 session of the fort in a short time after completing the investi 
 ture. An intercepted letter from General Webb, advising the 
 surrender, was sent into the fort to Colonel Monro by the French 
 General. 
 
 The garrison engaged not to serve for eighteen months, and 
 were permitted to march out with the honours of war. But the 
 savages regarded not the capitulation, nor could they be re 
 strained, by the utmost exertion of the commanding officer, from 
 committing the most outrageous acts of ci'uelty. They stripped 
 and plundered all the prisoners, and murdered great numbers in. 
 cold blood. Those who escaped by flight, or the protection of the 
 French, arrived in a forlorn condition at Fort Edward: among 
 these was the commandant of the garrison. 
 
 The day succeeding this deplorable scene of carnage and bar 
 barity, Major Putnam having been dispatched with his Rangers 
 to watch the motions of the enemy, came to the shore, when 
 their rear was scarcely beyond the reach of musket-shot. They 
 had carried off all the cannon, stores and water-craft. The fort 
 was demolished. The barracks, the out-houses and suttlers' booths 
 were heaps of ruins. The fires, not yet extinct, and the smoke, 
 offensive from the mucilaginous nature of the fuel, but illy con 
 cealed innumerable fragments of human skulls and bones, and, 
 in some instances, carcases half consumed. Dead bodies, welter 
 ing in blood, were every where to be seen, violated with all the 
 wanton mutilations of savage ingenuity. More than one hundred 
 women, some with their brains still oozing from the battered 
 heads, others with their whole hair wrenched collectively with 
 the skin from the bloody skulls, and many (with their throats cut) 
 most inhumanly stabbed and butchered, lay stripped entirely
 
 262 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 naked, with their bowels torn out, and afforded a spectacle too 
 horrible for description. 
 
 Not long after this misfortune, General Lyman succeeded to 
 the command of Fort Edward. He resolved to strengthen it. 
 For this purpose one hundred and fifty men were employed in 
 cutting timber. To cover them, Captain Little was posted (with 
 fifty British Regulars) at the head of a thick swamp, about one 
 hundred rods eastward of the fort to which his communication 
 lay over a tongue of land, formed on the one side by the swamp, 
 and by a creek on the other. 
 
 One morning at day-break, a centinel saw indistinctly several 
 birds, as he conceived, come from the swamp and fly over him 
 with incredible swiftness. While he was ruminating on these 
 wonderful birds, and endeavouring to form some idea of their co 
 lour, shape and size, an arrow buried itself in the limb of a tree 
 just above his head. He now discovered the quality and design of 
 these winged messengers of fate, and gave the alarm. Instantly 
 the working party began to retreat along the defile. A large 
 body of savages had concealed themselves in the morass before 
 the guard was posted, and were attempting in this way to kill 
 the centinel without noise, with design to surprise the whole party. 
 Finding the alarm given, they rushed from the covert, shot and 
 tomahawked those who were nearest at hand, and pressed hard 
 on the remainder of the unarmed fugitives. Captain Little flew 
 to their relief, and, by pouring on the Indians a well-timed fire, 
 checked the pursuit, and enabled such of the fatigue-men as did 
 not fall in the first onset, to retire to the fort. Thither he sent 
 for assistance, his little party being almost overpowered by num 
 bers. But the commandant, imagining that the main body of the 
 enemy were approaching for a general assault, called in his out 
 posts and shut the gates. 
 
 Major Putnam lay with his Rangers on an island adjacent to 
 the fort. Having heard the musketry, and learned that his friend 
 Captain Little was in the utmost peril, he plunged into the river 
 at the head of his corps, and waded through the water towards 
 the place of engagement. This brought him so near to the fort, 
 that General Lyman, apprized of his design, and unwilling that 
 the lives of a few more brave men should be exposed to what he 
 deemed inevitable destruction, mounted the parapet and ordered 
 him to proceed no further. The Major only took time to make 
 the best short apology he could, and marched on. This is the 
 only instance in the whole course of his military service wherein 
 he did not pay the strictest obedience to orders ; and in this in<
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 203 
 
 stance his motive was highly commendable. But when such 
 conduct, even if sanctified by success, is passed over with im 
 punity, it demonstrates that all is not right in the military system. 
 In a disciplined army, such as that of the United States became 
 under General Washington, an officer guilty of a slighter viola 
 tion of oi'ders, however elevated in rank or meritorious in ser 
 vice, would have been brought before the bar of a court-martial. 
 Were it not for the seductive tendency of a brave man's example, 
 I might have been spared the mortification of making these re 
 marks on the conduct of an officer, whose distinguishing charac 
 teristics were promptitude for duty and love of subordination, 
 as well as cheerfulness to encounter every species of difficulty 
 and danger. 
 
 The Rangers of Putnam soon opened their way for a junction 
 with the little handful of Regulars, who still obstinately main 
 tained their ground. By his advice, the whole rushed impetu 
 ously with shouts and huzzas into the swamp. The savages fled 
 on every side, and were chased, with no inconsiderable loss on 
 their part, as long as the day-light lasted. On our's only one man 
 was killed in the pursuit. His death was immediately revenged 
 by that of the Indian who shot him. This Indian was one of the 
 I'unners a chosen body of active young men, who are made use 
 of, not only to procure intelligence and convey tidings, but also to 
 guai-d the rear on a retreat. 
 
 Here it will not be unseasonable to mention some of the customs 
 in war peculiar to the aborigines, which, on the present as well 
 as other occasions, they put in practice. Whenever a retreating, . 
 especially a flying party had gained the summit of a rising ground, 
 they secreted one or two runners behind trees, copses, or bushes 
 to fire at the enemy upon their ascending the hill. This com 
 monly occasioned the enemy to halt and form for battle. In the 
 interim, the runners used such dexterity as to be rarely disco 
 vered, or if discovered, they vanished behind the height and re 
 joined their brother-warriors, who having t*ms stolen a distance, 
 were oftentimes seen by their pursuers no more. Or if the pur 
 suers were too eager, they seldom failed to atone for their rash 
 ness by falling into an ambuscade. The Mohawks, who were 
 afterwards much employed in scouts under the orders of Major 
 Putnam, and who were perfectly versed in all the wiles and stra 
 tagems of their countrymen, showed him the mode of avoiding 
 the evils of either alternative. In suspicious thickets, and at 
 the borders of every considerable eminence, a momentary pause 
 was made, while they, in different parts, penetrated or ascended 
 with a cautiousness that cannot be easily described. They seemed
 
 264 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 all eye arid ear. When they found no lurking mischief, they 
 would beckon with the hand, and pronounce the word " OWISH," 
 with a long labial hissing, the O being almost quiescent. This 
 was ever the watch-word for the main body to advance. 
 
 Indians who went to war together, and who, for any reason 
 found it necessary to separate into different routes, always left two 
 or three runners at the place of separation, to give timely notice 
 to either party in case of pursuit. 
 
 If a warrior chanced to straggle and lose himself in the woods, 
 or be retarded by accident or wound, the party missing him 
 would frequently, on their march, break down a bush or a shrub, 
 and leave the top pointing in the direction they had gone, that the 
 traggler, when he should behold it, might shape his course ac 
 cordingly. 
 
 We come to the campaign when General Aberci'ombie took the 
 command at Fort Edward. That General ordered Major Put 
 nam, with sixty men, to proceed by land to South-Bay, on Lake 
 George, for the purpose of making discoveries, and intercepting 
 the enemy's parties. The latter, in compliance with these or 
 ders, posted himself at Wood-Creek, near its entrance into South- 
 Bay. On this bank, which forms a jutting precipice ten or twelve 
 feet above the water, he erected a stone parapet thirty feet in 
 length, and masked it with young pine-trees, cut at a distance, and 
 so artfully planted as to imitate the natural growth. From hence 
 he sent back fifteen of his men, who had fallen sick. Distress for 
 want of provisions, occasioned by the length of march, and time 
 spent on this temporary fortification, compelled him to deviate 
 from a rule he had established, never to permit a gun to be fired 
 but at an enemy while on a scout. He was now obliged himself 
 to shoot a buck, which had jumped into the Creek, in order to 
 eke out their scanty subsistence until the fourth day after the com 
 pletion of the works. About ten o'clock that evening, one of the 
 men on duty at the margin of the bay, informed him that a fleet 
 of bark canoes, filled with men, was steering towards the mouth 
 of the Creek. He immediately called in all his centinels, and or 
 dered every man to his post. A profound stillness reigned in the 
 atmosphere, and the full moon shone with uncommon brightness. 
 The creek, which the enemy entered, is about six rods wide, and 
 the bank opposite to the parapet above twenty feet high. It was 
 intended to permit the canoes in front to pass they had accord 
 ingly just passed, when a soldier accidentally struck his firelock 
 against a stone. The commanding officer in the van canoe heard 
 the noise, and repeated several times the savage watch-word, 
 OWISH! Instantly the canoes huddled together, with their centre
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 565 
 
 precisely in front of the works, covering the creek for a consi 
 derable distance above and below. The officers appeared to be 
 in deep consultation, and the fleet on the point of returning, when 
 Major Putnam, who had ordered his men in the most peremptory 
 manner not to fire until he should set the example, gave the sig 
 nal, by discharging his piece. They fired. Nothing could exceed 
 the inextricable confusion and apparent consternation occasioned 
 by this well-concerted attack. But, at last, the enemy finding, 
 from the unfrequency (though there was no absolute intermission) 
 in the firing, that the number of our men must be small, resolved to 
 land below, and surround them. Putnam, apprehensive of this fi'orri 
 the movement, sent Lieutenant Robert Durkee,* with twelve men, 
 about thirty rods down the creek, who arrived in time to repulse 
 the party which attempted to land. Another small detachment, 
 under Lieutenant Parsons, was ordered up the creek to prevent 
 any similar attempt. In the mean time Major Putnam kept up, 
 through the whole night, an incessant and deadly fire on the main 
 body of the enemy, without receiving any thing in return but shot 
 void of effect, accompanied with dolorous groans, miserable shrieks, 
 and dismal savage yells. After day-break he was advised that one 
 part of the enemy had effected a landing considerably below, and 
 were rapidly advancing to cut off" his retreat. Apprised of the great 
 superiority still opposed to him, as well as of the situation of hi 
 own soldiers, some of whom were entirely destitute of ammunition, 
 and the rest reduced to one or two rounds per man, he commanded 
 them to swing their packs. By hastening the retreat, in good or 
 der, they had just time to retire far enough up the creek to pre 
 vent being enclosed. During this long-continued action, in which 
 the Americans had slain at least five times their own number, only 
 one Provincial and one Indian were wounded on their side. These 
 unfortunate men had been sent off for camp in the night, with two 
 men to assist them, and directions to proceed by Wood-Creek as 
 the safest, though not the shortest route. But having taken a 
 nearer way, they were pursued and overtaken by the Indians, 
 wl*o, from the blood on the leaves and bushes, believed that they 
 
 * As the name of the brave Durkee will occur no more in these sheets, 
 I may be indulged in mentioning his melancholy fate. He survived this 
 war, and was appointed a Captain in that war which terminated in the 
 acknowledgment of our Independence. In 1778 he was wounded and 
 taken prisoner by the savages at the battle of Wioming, on the Susque- 
 hannah. Having been condemned to be burnt, the Indians kept him in 
 the flames with pitch-forks, until he expired in the most excruciating tor- 
 
 2M
 
 266 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 were on the trail of our whole party. The wounded, despairing 
 of mercy, and unable to fly, insisted that the well soldiers should 
 make their escape, which, on a moment's deliberation, they ef 
 fected. The Provincial, whose thigh was broken by a ball, upon 
 the approach of the savages, fired his piece, and killed three of 
 them ; after which he was quickly hacked in pieces. The In 
 dian, however, was saved alive. This man Major Putnam saw 
 afterwards in Canada, where he likewise leai-ned that his enemy, 
 hi the rencounter at Wood-Creek, consisted of five hundred French 
 and Indians, under the command of the celebrated partizan Mo- 
 lang, and that no party, since the war, had suffered so severely, 
 as more than one-half of those who went out never returned. 
 
 Our brave little company, reduced to forty in number, had pro 
 ceeded along the bank of the creek about an hour's march, when 
 Major Putnam, being in front, was fired upon by a party just at 
 hand. He, rightly appreciating the advantage often obtained by 
 assuming a bold countenance on a critical occasion, in a stentoro- 
 phonick tone, ordered his men to rush on the enemy, and pro 
 mised that they should soon give a good account of them. It 
 proved to be a scout of Provincials, who conceived they were fir 
 ing upon the French ; but the commanding officer, knowing Put 
 nam's voice, cried out, " that they were all friends." Upon this 
 the Major told him abruptly, " that, friends or enemies, they all 
 " deserved to be hanged for not killing more when they had so fair 
 " a shot." In fact, but one man was mortally wounded. While 
 these things were transacted, a> faithful soldier, whose ammuni 
 tion had been early exhausted, made his way to the fort, and 
 gave such information, that General Lyman was detached with. 
 five hundred men to cover the retreat. Major Putnam met them 
 at only twelve miles distance from the fort, to which they re 
 turned the next day. 
 
 In the winter of 1757, when Colonel Haviland was Command 
 ant at Fort Edward, the barracks adjoining to the north-west bas 
 tion took fire. They extended within twelve feet of the magazine, 
 which contained three hundred barrels of powder. On its first dis 
 covery, the fire raged with great violence. The Commandant 
 endeavoured, in vain, by discharging some pieces of heavy artil 
 lery against the supporters of this flight of barracks, to level them 
 with the ground. Putnam arrived from the island where he was 
 stationed at the fnoment when the blaze approached that end 
 which was contiguous to the magazine. Instantly a vigorous at 
 tempt was made to extinguish the conflagration. A way was 
 opened by a postern gate to the river, and the soldiers were em 
 ployed in bringing water ; which he, having mounted on a ladder
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 267 
 
 to the eves of the building, received and threw upon the flame. It 
 continued, notwithstanding their utmost efforts, to gain upon them. 
 He stood, enveloped in smoke, so near the sheet of firc^ that a 
 pair of thick blanket mittens were burnt entirely from his hands ; 
 he was supplied with another pair dipt in water. Colonel Havi- 
 land, fearing that he would perish in the flames, called to him to 
 come down. But he entreated that he might be suffered to remain, 
 since destruction must inevitably ensue if their exertions should be 
 remitted. The gallant Commandant, not less astonished than 
 charmed at the boldness of his conduct, forbade any more effects 
 to be carried out of the Fort, animated the men to redoubled dili 
 gence, and exclaimed, " if we must be blown up, we will go all 
 together." At last, when the barracks were seen to be tumbling, 
 Putnam descended, placed himself at the interval, and continued 
 from an incessant rotation of replenished buckets to pour water 
 upon the magazine. The outside planks were already consumed 
 by the proximity of the fire, and as only one thickness of timber 
 intervened, the trepidation now became general and extreme. 
 Putnam, still undaunted, covered with a cloud of cinders, and 
 scorched with the intensity of the heat, maintained his position 
 until the fire subsided, and the danger was wholly over. He had 
 contended for one hour and an half with that terrible element. His 
 legs, his thighs, his arms, and his face were blistered ; and when 
 he pulled off his second pair of mittens, the skin from his hands 
 and fingers followed them. It was a month before he recovered. 
 The Commandant, to whom his merits had before endeared him, 
 could not stifle the emotions of gratitude, due to the man who had 
 been so instrumental in preserving the magazine, the fort, and 
 the garrison. 
 
 The repulse before Ticonderoga took place in 1758. General 
 Abercrombie, the British Commander in Chief in America, con 
 ducted the expedition. His army, which amounted to nearly six 
 teen thousand Regulars and Provincials, was amply supplied with 
 artillery and military stores. This Avell-appointed corps passed 
 over Lake George, and landed, without opposition, at the point 
 of destination. The troops advanced in columns. Lord Howe hav 
 ing Major Putnam with him, was in front of the centre. A body 
 of about five hundred men, (the advance or pickets of the French 
 army) which had fled at first, began to skirmish with our left. 
 "Putnam," said Lord Howe, "what means that firing?" "I 
 know not, but with your Lordship's leave will see," replied the 
 former. li I will accompany you," rejoined the gallant young no 
 bleman. In vain did Major Putnam attempt to dissuade him, by 
 saying " My Lord, if I am killed, the loss of my life will be of
 
 S*8 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 " little consequence, but the preservation of your's is of infinite im- 
 " portance to this army." The only answer was, " Putnam, your 
 " life is as dear to you as mine is to me; I am determined to 
 go." One hundred of the van, under Major Putnam, filed off 
 with Lord Howe. They soon met the left flank of the enemy's ad 
 vance, by whose first fire his Lordship fell. It was a loss indeed ; 
 and particularly felt in the operations which occurred three days 
 afterwards. His manners and his virtues had made him the idol 
 of the army. From his first arrival in America he had accom 
 modated himself * and his regiment to the peculiar nature of the 
 service. Exemplary to the office, a friend of the soldier, the mo, 
 del of discipline, he had not failed to encounter every hai-dship and 
 hazai'd. Nothing could be more calculated to inspire men with the 
 rash animation of rage, or to temper it with the cool perseverance 
 of revenge, than the sight of such a hero, $o beloved, fallen in his 
 country's cause. It had the effect. Putnam's party, having cut 
 their way obliquely through the enemy's ranks, and having been 
 joined by Captain D'Ell, with twenty men, together with some 
 other small parties, charged them so furiously in rear, that nearly 
 three hundred were killed on the spot, and one hundred and forty- 
 eight made prisoners. In the mean time, from the unskilfulness 
 of the guides, some of our columns were bewildered. The left 
 wing, seeing Putnam's party in their front, advancing over the 
 dead bodies towards them, commenced a brisk and heavy fire, 
 which killed a serjeant and several privates. Nor could they, by 
 sounds or signs, be convinced of their mistake, until Major Put 
 nam, preferring (if heaven had thus ordained it) the loss of his 
 own life to the loss of the lives of his brave associates, ran through 
 the midst of the flying balls, and prevented the impending catas 
 trophe. 
 
 The tender feelings which Major Putnam possessed taught 
 him to respect an unfortunate foe, and to strive, by every lenient 
 art in his power, to alleviate the miseries of war. For this pur 
 pose he remained on the field until it began to grow dark, em 
 ployed in collecting such of the enemy as were left wounded, to 
 one place; he gave them all the liquor and little refreshments 
 which he could procure ; he furnished to each of them a blanket ; 
 he put three blankets under a French serjeant who was badly 
 wounded through the body, and placed him in an easy posture by 
 the side of a tree : the poor fellow could only squeeze his hand 
 
 * He cut his hair short, and induced the regiment to follow the example. 
 He fashioned their cloathing for the activity of service, and -divested 
 himself and them of every article of superfluous baggage.
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 269 
 
 with an expressive grasp. " Ah," said Major Putnam, " depend 
 *' upon it, my brave soldier,, you shall be brought to the camp as 
 " soon as possible, and the same care shall be taken of you as if 
 a you were my brother." The next morning Major Rogers was sent 
 to reconnoitre the field, and to bring off the wounded prisoners ; 
 but finding the wounded unable to help themselves, in order to save 
 trouble, he dispatched every one of them to the world of spirits. 
 Putnam's was not the only heart that bled. The Provincial and 
 British officers who became acquainted with the fact, were struck 
 with inexpressible horror. 
 
 Ticonderoga is surrounded on three sides by water ; on the 
 fourth, for some distance, extends a dangerous morass ; the re 
 mainder was then fortified with a line eight feet high, and planted 
 with artillery. For one hundred yards in front the plain was 
 covered with great trees, cut for the purpose of defence, whoso 
 interwoven and sharpened branches projected outwards. Not 
 withstanding these impediments, the engineer who had been em 
 ployed to reconnoitre, reported as his opinion, that the works 
 might be carried with musketry. The difficulty and delay of 
 dragging the battering cannon over grounds almost impracticable, 
 induced the adoption of this fatal advice to which, however, a 
 rumour that the garrison, already consisting of four or five thou 
 sand men, was on the point of being augmented with three thou 
 sand more, probably contributed. The attack was as spirited in 
 execution as ill-judged in design. The assailants, after having 
 been for more than four hours exposed to a most fatal fire, with 
 out making any impression by their i-eiterated and obstinate proofs 
 of valour, wei-e ordered to reti-eat. Major Putnam, who had 
 acted as an aid in bringing the Provincial regiments successively 
 to action, assisted in preserving order. It was said that a great 
 number of the enemy were shot in the head, every other part 
 having been concealed behind their works. The loss on our side 
 was upwards of two thousand killed and wounded. Twenty-five 
 hundred stands of arms were taken by the French. Our army, 
 after sustaining this havock, retreated with such extraordinary 
 precipitation, that they regained their camp at the southward of 
 Lake George the evening after the action. 
 
 The successes in other parts of America made amends for 
 this defeat. Louisbourg, after a vigorous siege, was reduced by 
 the Generals Amherst and Wolfe : Frontenac, a post of import 
 ance on the communication between Lake Ontario and the St. 
 Lawrence, surrendered to Colonel Bradstreet: and Fort Du 
 Quesne, situated at the confluence of Mtmongahela. witli the Ohio, 
 (the possession of which had kindled the flame of war that uow
 
 270 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 spread through the four quarters of the globe) was captured by 
 General Forbes. 
 
 A few adventures, in which the public interests were little con 
 cerned, but which, from their peculiarity, appear worthy of be 
 ing preserved, happened before the conclusion of the year. As 
 one day Major Putnam chanced to lie with a batteau and five 
 men, on the eastern shore of the Hudson, near the Rapids, con 
 tiguous to which Fort Miller stood, his men on the opposite bank 
 had given him to undei'stand, that a large body of savages were in 
 his rear, and would be upon him in a moment. To stay and be 
 sacrificed to attempt crossing and be shot or to go down to the 
 falls, with an almost absolute certainty of being drowned, were the 
 sole alternatives that presented themselves to his choice. So in 
 stantaneously was the latter adopted, that one man who had ram 
 bled a little from the party, was, of necessity, left, and fell a 
 miserable victim to savage barbarity. The Indians arrived on the 
 shore soon enough to fire many balls on the batteau before it could 
 be got under way. No sooner had our batteau-men escaped, by 
 favour of the rapidity of the current, beyond the reach of mus 
 ket shot, than death seemed only to have been avoided in one 
 form to be encountered in another not less terrible. Prominent 
 rocks, latent shelves, absorbing eddies, and abrupt descents, for 
 a quarter of a mile, afforded scarcely the smallest chance of 
 escaping without a miracle. Putnam, trusting himself to a good 
 Providence, whose kindness he had often experienced, rather 
 than to men, Avhose tenderest mercies are cruelty, was now 
 seen to place himself sedately at the helm, and afford an asto 
 nishing spectacle of serenity. His companions, with a mixture of 
 terror, admiration and wonder, saw him incessantly changing 
 the course, to avoid the jaws of ruin, that seemed expanded to 
 swallow the whirling boat. Twice he turned it fairly round to 
 shun the rifts of recks. Amidst these eddies, in which there was 
 the greatest danger of its foundering, at one moment the sides 
 were exposed to the fury of the waves ; then the stern, and next 
 the bow glanced obliquely onward, with inconceivable velocity. 
 With not less amazement the savages beheld him sometimes 
 mounting the billows, then plunging abruptly down, at other times 
 skilfully veering from the rocks, and shooting through the only 
 narrow passage ; until, at last, they viewed the boat safely gliding 
 on the smooth surface of the stream below. At this sight, it is 
 asserted, that these rude sons of nature were affected with the 
 same kind of superstitious veneration which the Europeans, in 
 the d;irk ages, entertained for some of their most valorous cham 
 pions. They deemed the man invulnerable, whom their balls, on
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 271 
 
 his pushing from shore, could not touch ; and whom they had seen 
 steering in safety down the rapids that had never before been 
 passed. They conceived it would be an affront against- the Great 
 Spirit to attempt to kill this favoured mortal with powder and 
 ball, if they should ever see and know him again. 
 
 In the month of August five hundred men were employed, 
 under the orders of Majors Rogers and Putnam, to watch the mo 
 tions of the enemy near Ticonderoga. At South-Bay they separated 
 the party into two equal divisions, and Rogers took a position on 
 Wood-Creek, twelve miles distant from Putnam. 
 
 Upon being, some time afterwards, discovered, they formed a 
 re-union, and concerted measures for returning to Fort Edward. 
 Their march through the woods was in three divisions by FILES : 
 the right commanded by Rogers, the left by Putnam, and the cen 
 tre by Captain D'Ell. The first night they encamped on the banks 
 of Clear River, about a mile from old Fort Ann, which had been 
 formerly built by General Nicholson. Next morning Major 
 Rogers, and a British officer, named Irwin, incautiously suffered 
 themselves, from a spirit of false emulation, to be engaged in firing 
 at a mark. Nothing could have been moi-e repugnant to the mili 
 tary principles of Putnam than such conduct, or reprobated by him 
 in more pointed terms. As soon as the heavy dew which had fal 
 len the preceding night would permit, the detachment moved in 
 one body, Putnam being in front, D'Ell in centre, and Rogers in, 
 the rear. The impervious growth of shrubs and under-brush that 
 had sprung up, where the land had been partially cleared some 
 years before, occasioned this change in the order of march. At 
 the moment of moving, the famous French partizan Molang, wko 
 had been sent with five hundred men to intercept our party, was 
 not more than one mile and an half distant from them. Having 
 heard the firing, he hasted to lay an ambuscade precisely in that 
 part of the wood most favourable to his project. Major Putnam 
 was just emerging from the thicket, into the common forest, when 
 the enemy rose, and with discordant yells and whoops, com 
 menced an attack upon the right of his division. Surprized, but 
 undismayed, Putnam halted, returned the fire, and passed the 
 word for the other divisions to advance for his support. D'Ell 
 came. The action, though widely scattered, and principally fought 
 between man and man, soon grew general and intensely warm. 
 It would be as difficult as useless to describe this irregular and fe 
 rocious mode of fighting. Rogers came not up ; but, as he de 
 clared afterwards, formed a circular file between our party and 
 Wood-Creek, to prevent their being taken in rear or enfiladed. 
 Successful as lie commonly was, his conduct did not always paws
 
 372 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM* 
 
 without unfavourable imputation. Notwithstanding, it was a cuf- 
 rent saying in the camp, " that Rogers always sent, but Putnam 
 led his men to action," yet, in justice, it ought to be remarked 
 here, that the latter has never been known, in relating the story 
 of this day's disaster, to affix any stigma upon the conduct of the 
 former. 
 
 Major Putnam, perceiving it would be impracticable to ci'oss the 
 creek, determined to maintain his ground. Inspired by his ex 
 ample, the officers and men behaved with great bravery : some 
 times they fought aggregately in open vie w, and sometimes indi 
 vidually under cover ; taking aim from behind the bodies of trees, 
 and acting in a manner independent of each other. For himself^ 
 having discharged his fuzee several times, at length it missed fire, 
 while the muzzle was pressed against the breast of a large and 
 well-proportioned savage. This ivarfior, availing himself of the 
 indefensible attitude of his adversary, with a tremendous Avar-' 
 hoop, sprang forward, with his lifted hatchet, and compelled him 
 to surrender ; and having disarmed and bound him fast to a tree, 
 returned to the battle. 
 
 The intrepid Captains D'Ell and Harman, who now commanded, 
 were forced to give ground for a little distance : the savages, con 
 ceiving this to be the certain harbinger of victory, rushed impetu 
 ously on, with dreadful and redoubled cries. But our two pavti- 
 zans, collecting a handful of brave men, gave the pursuers so 
 warm a reception as to oblige them, in turn, to retreat a little be 
 yond the spot at which the action had commenced. Here they 
 made a stand. This change of ground occasioned the tree to which 
 Putnam was tied to be directly between the fire of the two parties. 
 Human imagination can hardly figure to itself a more deplorable 
 situation. The balls flew incessantly from either side, many struck 
 the tree, while some passed through the sleeves and skirts of his 
 coat. In this state of jeopardy, unable to move his body, to stir 
 his limbs, or even to incline his head, he remained more than an 
 hour. So equally balanced, and so obstinate was the fight ! At 
 one moment, while the battle swerved in favour of the enemy, a 
 young savage chose an odd way of discovering his humour. He 
 found Putnam bound. He might have dispatched him at a blow. 
 But he loved better to excite the terrors of the prisoner, by hurl 
 ing a tomahawk at his head, or rather it should seem his object 
 was to see how near he could throw it without touching him the 
 weapon struck in the tree a number of times at a hair's breadth 
 distance from the mark. When the Indian had finished his amuse 
 ment, a French bas-officer (a much more inveterate savage by na 
 ture, though descended from so humane and polished a nation)
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 2f3 
 
 perceiving Putnam, came up to him, and, levelling a fuzee within: 
 a foot of his breast, attempted to discharge it it missed fire. In 
 effectually did the intended victim solicit the treatment due to his 
 situation, by repeating that he was a prisoner of war. The dege 
 nerate Frenchman did not understand the language of honour or 
 of nature : deaf to their voice, and dead to sensibility, he violently, 
 and repeatedly, pushed the muzzle of his gun against Putnam's 
 ribs, and finally gave him a cruel blow on the jaw with the but 
 of his piece. After this dastardly deed he left him. 
 
 At length the active intrepidity of D'Ell and Harman,* seconded 
 by the persevering valour of their followers, prevailed. They 
 drove from the field the enemy, who left about ninety dead be 
 hind them. As they were retiring, Putnam was untied by the 
 Indian who had made him prisoner, and whom he afterwards 
 called master. Having been conducted for some distance from 
 the place of action, he was stripped of his coat, vest, stockings 
 and shoes ; loaded with as many of the packs of the wounded as 
 could be piled upon him ; strongly pinioned, and his wrists tied as 
 closely together as they could be pulled with a cord. After he 
 had marched, through no pleasant paths, in this painful manner, 
 for many a tedious mile, the party (who were excessively fatigued) 
 halted to breathe. His hands were now immoderately swelled 
 from the tightness of the ligature ; and the pain had become into 
 lerable. His feet were so much scratched, that the blood dropped 
 fast from them. Exhausted with bearing a burden above his 
 strength, and frantic with torments exquisite beyond endurance, 
 he entreated the Irish interpreter to implore, as the last and only 
 grace he desired of the savages, that they would knock him on 
 the head and take his scalp at once, or loose his hands. A French 
 officer, instantly interposing, ordered his hands to be unbound, 
 and some of the packs to be taken off. By this time the Indian 
 who captured him, and had been absent with the wounded, coming 
 up, gave him a pair of mocasons, and expressed great indigna 
 tion at the unworthy treatment his prisoner had suffered. 
 
 That savage chief again returned to the care of the wounded, 
 and the Indians, about two hundred in number, went before the 
 rest of the party to the place where the whole were that night 
 to encamp. They took with them Major Putnam, on whom, be 
 sides innumerable other outrages, they had the barbarity to inflict 
 a deep wound with a tomahawk in the left cheek. His suffer 
 ings were in this place to be consummated. A scene of horror, 
 
 * This worthy officer is still living at Marlborough, ia tl>e State pf 
 Massachusetts., 
 
 2N
 
 274 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 infinitely greater than had ever met his eyes before, was now pre* 
 paring. It was determined to roast him alive. For this purpose 
 they led him into a dark forest, stripped him naked, bound him 
 to a tree, and piled dry brush, with other fuel, at a small distance, 
 in a circle round him. They accompanied their labours, as if 
 for his funeral dirge, with screams and sounds inimitable but by 
 savage voices. Then they set the piles on fire. A sudden shower 
 damped the rising flame. Still they strove to kindle it, until, at 
 last, the blaze ran fiercely round the circle. Major Putnam soon 
 began to feel the scorching heat. His hands were so tied that he 
 eould move his body. He often shifted sides as the fire approached. 
 This sight, at the very idea of which all but savages must shud 
 der, afforded the highest diversion to his inhuman tormentors, 
 who demonstrated the delirium of their joy by correspondent 
 yells, dances, and gesticulations. He saw clearly that his final 
 hour was inevitably come. He summoned all his resolution, and 
 composed his mind, as far as the circumstances could admit, to 
 bid an eternal farewell to all he held most dear. To quit the 
 world would scarcely have cost a single pang ; but for the idea of 
 home, but for the remembrance of domestic endearments, of the 
 affectionate partner of his soul, and of their beloved offspring. 
 His thought was ultimately fixed on a happier state of existence, 
 beyond the tortures he was beginning to endure. The bitterness 
 of death, even of that death which is accompanied with the 
 keenest agonies, was, in a manner, past nature, with a feeble 
 struggle, was quitting its last hold on sublunary things when a 
 French officer rushed through the crowd, opened a way by scat 
 tering the burning brands, and unbound the victim. It was Mo- 
 lang himself to whom a savage, unwilling to see another human 
 sacrifice immolated, had run and communicated the tidings. That 
 eommandant spurned and severely reprimanded the barbarians, 
 whose nocturnal powwas and hellish orgies he suddenly ended. 
 Putnam did not want for feeling or gratitude. The French com 
 mander, fearing to trust him alone with them, remained until he 
 eould deliver him in safety into the hands of his master. 
 
 The savage approached his prisoner kindly, and seemed to 
 treat him with particular affection. He offered him some hard' 
 biscuit ; but finding that he could not chew them, on account of 
 the blow he had received from the Frenchman, this more hu 
 mane savage soaked some of the biscuit in water, and made him- 
 suck the pulp-like part. Determined, however, not to loose his 
 captive (the refreshment being finished) he took the mocasons- 
 from his feet, and tied them to one of his wrists : then directing, 
 liim. to lie dowa on his back upon the bare ground, he stretched.
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 275 
 
 one arm to its full length, and bound it fast to a young tree ; the 
 other arm was extended and bound in the same manner his legs 
 "were stretched apart and fastened to two saplings. Then a num- 
 t>er of tall, but slender poles were cut down, which, with some 
 long bushes, were laid across his body from head to foot : on each 
 side lay as many Indians as could conveniently find lodging, in or- 
 der to prevent the possibility of his escape. In this disagreeable 
 and painful posture he remained until morning. During this 
 night, the longest and most dreary conceivable, our hero used to 
 relate that he felt a ray of cheerfulness come casually across his 
 mind, and could not even refrain from smiling when he reflected on 
 this ludicrous groupe for a painter, of which he himself was the 
 principal figure. 
 
 The next day he was allowed his blanket and mocasons, and 
 permitted to march without carrying any pack, or receiving any 
 insult. To allay his extreme hunger, a little bear's meat was 
 given, which he sucked through his teeth. At night the party 
 arrived at Ticonderoga, and the prisoner was placed under the 
 care of a French guard. The savages, who had been prevented 
 from glutting their diabolical thirst for blood, took other oppor 
 tunity of manifesting their malevolence for the disappointment, 
 by horrid grimaces and angry gestures; but they were suffered 
 no more to offer violence or personal indignity to him. 
 
 After having been examined by the Marquis de Montcalm, 
 Major Putnam was conducted to Montreal by a French officer, 
 who treated him with the greatest indulgence and humanity. 
 
 At this place were several prisoners. Colonel Peter Schuyler, 
 remarkable for his philanthropy, generosity, and friendship, was 
 of the number. No sooner had he heard of Major Putnam's ar 
 rival, than he went to the interpreter's quarters, and inquired 
 whether he had a Provincial Major in his custody ? He found Ma 
 jor Putnam in a comfortless condition without coat, waistcoat, or 
 hose the remnant of his cloathing miserably dirty and ragged 
 his beard long and squalid his legs torn by thorns and briars 
 his face gashed with wounds and swolen with bruises. Colonel 
 Schuyler, irritated beyond all sufferance at such a sight, could 
 scarcely restrain his speech within limits, consistent with the pru 
 dence of a prisoner and the meekness of a Christian. Major Put 
 nam was immediately treated according to his rank, cloathed in a 
 decent manner, and supplied with money by tkat liberal and sym 
 pathetic patron of the distressed. 
 
 The capture of Frontenac by General Bradstreet afforded oc 
 casion for an exchange of prisoners. Colonel Schuyler was com 
 prehended in the cartel. A generous spirit can never be satis-
 
 2T6 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 fied with imposing tasks for its generosity to accomplish. Appre 
 hensive if it should be known that Putnam was a distinguished 
 partizan, his liberation might be retarded, and knowing that there 
 were officers who, from the length of their captivity, had a claim 
 of priority to exchange, he had, by his happy address, induced 
 the Governor to offer, that whatever officer he might think pro 
 per to nominate should be included in the present cartel. With 
 great politeness in manner, but seeming indifference as to object, 
 he expressed his warmest acknowledgments to the Governor, and 
 said, " There is an old man here, who is a Provincial Major, and 
 " wishes to be at home with his wife and children ; he can do no 
 *' good here or any where else : I believe your Excellency had 
 " better keep some of the young men, who have no wife or child- 
 " ren to care for, and let the old fellow go home with me." This 
 justifiable finesse had the desired effect. 
 
 At the house of Colonel Schuyler, Major Putnam became ac 
 quainted with Mrs. Howe, a fair captive, whose history would not 
 be read without emotion, if it could be written in the same affecting 
 manner in which I have often heard it told. She was still young 
 and handsome herself, though she had two daughters of marriage 
 able age. Distress, which had taken somewhat from the original 
 redundancy of her bloom, and added a softening paleness to her 
 cheeks, rendered her appearance the more engaging. Her face, 
 that seemed to have been formed for the assemblage of dimples 
 and smiles, was clouded with care. The natural sweetness was 
 not, however, soured by despondency and petulance, but chas 
 tened by humility and resignation. This mild daughter of sorrow 
 looked as if she had known the day of prosperity, when serenity 
 and gladness of soul were the inmates of her bosom. That day 
 was past, and the once lively features now assumed a tender me 
 lancholy, which witnessed her irreparable loss. She needed not 
 the customary weeds of mourning, or the fallacious pageantry of 
 woe, to prove her widowed state. She was in that stage of affliction 
 when the excess is so far abated as to permit the subject to be 
 drawn into conversation, without opening the wound afresh. It is 
 then rather a source of pleasure than pain to dwell upon the cir 
 cumstances in narration. Every thing conspired to make her story 
 interesting. Her first husband had been killed and scalped by the 
 Indians some years before. By an unexpected assault, in 1756, upon 
 Fort Dummer, where she then happened to be present with Mr. 
 Howe, her second husband, the savages carried the fort, murdered 
 the greater part of the garrison, mangled in death her husband, and 
 led her away with seven children into captivity. She was for some 
 months kept with them ; and during their rambles she was fre-
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 277 
 
 quently on the point of perishing with hunger, and as often subjected 
 to hardships seemingly intolerable to one of so delicate a frame. 
 Some time after the career of her miseries began, the Indians se 
 lected a couple of their young men to marry her daughters. The 
 fright and disgust which the intelligence of this intention occa 
 sioned to these poor young creatures, added infinitely to the sor 
 rows and perplexities of their frantic mother. To prevent the 
 hated connection, all the activity of female resource was called 
 into exertion. She found an opportunity of conveying to the Go 
 vernor a petition, that her daughters might be received into a 
 convent for the sake of securing the salvation of their souls. Hap 
 pily the pious fraud succeeded. 
 
 About the same time the savages separated, and carried off her 
 other five childi-en into different tribes. She was ransomed by an 
 elderly French officer for four hundred livres. Of no avail were 
 the cries of this tender mother a mother desolated by the loss of 
 her children, who were thus torn from her fond embraces, and re 
 moved many hundred miles from each other, into the utmost re 
 cesses of Canada. With them (could they have been kept toge 
 ther) she would most willingly have wandered to the extremities 
 of the world, and accepted as a desirable portion the cruel lot of 
 slavery for life. But she was precluded from the sweet hope of 
 ever beholding them again. The insufferable pang of parting, and 
 the idea of eternal separation, planted the arrows of despair deep 
 in her soul. Though all the world was no better than a desert, 
 and all its inhabitants were then indifferent to her, yet the love 
 liness of her appearance in sorrow had awakened affections, 
 which, in the aggravation of her troubles, were to become a new 
 source of afflictions. 
 
 The officer who bought her of the Indians had a son who also 
 held a commission, and resided with his father. During her con 
 tinuance in the same house, at St. John's, the double attachment 
 of the father and the son rendered her situation extremely dis 
 tressing. It is true, the calmness of age delighted to gaze re 
 spectfully on her beauty ; but the impetuosity of youth was fired to 
 madness by the sight of her charms. One day, the son, whose at 
 tentions had been long lavished upon her in vain, finding her alone 
 in a chamber, forcibly seized her hand, and solemnly declared 
 that he would now satiate the passion which she had so long re 
 fused to indulge. She recurred to entreaties, struggles, and tears, 
 those prevalent female weapons which the distraction of danger 
 not less than the promptness of genius is wont to supply ; while he, 
 in the delirium of vexation and desire, snatched a dagger, and 
 swore he would put an end to her life if she persisted to struggle.
 
 278 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 Mrs. Howe, assuming the dignity of conscious virtue, told him 
 it was what she most ardently wished, and begged him to plunge 
 the poignard through her heart, since the mutual importunities 
 and jealousies of such rivals had rendered her life, though inno 
 cent, more irksome and insupportable than death itself. Struck 
 with a momentary compunction, he seemed to relent, and relax 
 his hold; and she, availing herself of his irresolution, or absence 
 of mind, escaped down the stairs. In her disordered state she 
 told the whole transaction to his father, who directed her, in fu 
 ture, to sleep in a small bed at the foot of that in which his wife 
 lodged. The affair soon reached the Governor's ears, and the 
 young officer was, shortly afterwards, sent on a tour of duty to 
 Detroit. 
 
 This gave her a short respite ; but she dreaded his return, and 
 the humiliating insults for which she might be reserved. Her 
 children, too, were ever present to her melancholy mind. A 
 stranger, a widow, a captive, she knew not where to apply for 
 relief. She had heard of the name of Schuyler she was yet to 
 learn, that it was only another appellation for the friend of suffer 
 ing humanity. As that excellent man was on his way from Que 
 bec to the Jerseys, under a parole, for a limited time, she came, 
 with feeble and trembling steps, to him. The same maternal 
 passion which sometimes overcomes the timidity of nature in the 
 birds, when plundered of their callow nestlings, emboldened her, 
 notwithstanding her native diffidence, to disclose those griefs 
 which were ready to devour her in silence. While her delicate 
 aspect was heightened to a glowing blush, for fear of offending by 
 an inexcusable importunity, or of transgressing the rules of pro 
 priety, by representing herself as being an object of admiration, 
 she told, with artless simplicity, all the story of her woes. Colonel 
 Schuyler, from that moment, became her protector, and endea 
 voured to procure her liberty. The person who purchased her 
 from the savages, unwilling to part with so fair a purchase, de 
 manded a thousand livres as her ransom. But Colonel Schuyler, 
 on his return to Quebec, obtained from the Governor an order, 
 in consequence of which Mrs. Howe was given up to him for 
 four hundred livres ; nor did his active goodness rest until every 
 one of her five sons was restored to her. 
 
 Business having made it necessary that Colonel Schuyler should 
 precede the prisoners who were exchanged, he recommended the 
 fair captive to the protection of his friend Putnam. She had just 
 recovered from the meazles when the party was preparing to set 
 off for New-England. By this time the young French officer 
 had returned, with his passion rather increased than abated by
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 27f 
 
 absence. He pursued her wheresoever she went, and, although 
 he could make no advances in her affection, he seemed resolved, 
 by perseverance, to carry his point. Mrs. Howe, terrified by 
 his treatment, was obliged to keep constantly near Major Put 
 nam, who informed the young officer that he should protect that 
 lady at the risk of his life.* 
 
 In the long march from captivity, through an inhospitable wil 
 derness, encumbered with five small children, she suffered incre 
 dible hardships. Though endowed with masculine fortitude, she 
 was truly feminine in strength, and must have fainted by the way, 
 had it not been for the assistance of Major Putnam. There 
 were a thousand good offices which the helplessness of her condi 
 tion demanded, and which the gentleness of his nature delighted 
 to perform. He assisted in leading her little ones, and in carry 
 ing them over the swampy grounds and runs of water, with 
 which their course was frequently intersected. He mingled his 
 own mess with that of the widow and the fatherless, and assisted 
 them in supplying and preparing their provisions. Upon arriv 
 ing within the settlements, they experienced a reciprocal regret 
 at separation, and were only consoled by the expectation of soon 
 mingling in the embraces of their former acquaintances and 
 dearest connections. 
 
 After the conquest of Canada, in 1760, she made a journey to 
 Quebec^ in order to bring back her two daughters, whom she had 
 left in a convent. She found one of them married to a French 
 officer. The other having contracted a great fondness for the re 
 ligious sisterhood, with reluctance consented to leave them and 
 return. 
 
 We now arrive at the period when the prowess of Britain, 
 victorious alike by sea and by land, in the new and in the old 
 world, had elevated that name to the zenith of national glory. 
 The conquest of Quebec opened the way for the total reduction 
 of Canada. On the side of the Lakes, Arnherst having captured 
 the posts of Ticonderoga and Crown-Point, applied himself to 
 strengthen the latter. Putnam, who had been raised to the rank 
 of Lieutenant-Colonel, and present at these operations, was em 
 ployed the remainder of this and some part of the succeeding 
 season, in superintending the parties which were detached to pro 
 cure timber and other materials for the fortification. 
 
 * Two or three incidents respecting Mrs. Howe, which were received 
 by the author from General Putnam, and inserted in the former editions, 
 are omitted in this, as they appeared, on farther information, to be mis 
 takes.
 
 280 
 
 In 1760, General Amherst, a sagacious, humane, and experi 
 enced commander, planned the termination of the war in Canada, 
 by a bloodless conquest. For this purpose, three armies were 
 destined to co-operate, by different routes, against Montreal, the 
 only remaining place of strength the enemy held in that country. 
 The corps formerly commanded by General Wolfe, now by Gene 
 ral Murray, was ordered to ascend the river St. Lawrence; an 
 other, under Colonel Haviland, to penetrate by the Isle Aux 
 Noix ; and the third, consisting of about ten thousand men, com 
 manded by the General himself, after passing up the Mohawk- 
 River, and taking its course by the Lake Ontario, was to form a 
 junction by falling down the St. Lawrence. In this progress, more 
 than one occasion presented itself to manifest the intrepidity and 
 soldiership of Lieutenant-Colonel Putnam. Two armed vessels 
 obstructed the passage, and prevented the attack on Oswegatchie. 
 Putnam, with one thousand men, in fifty batteaux, undertook to 
 board them. This dauntless officer, ever sparing of the blood of 
 others, as prodigal of his own, to accomplish it with the less loss, 
 put himself (with a chosen crew, a beetle and wedges) in the van, 
 with a design to wedge the rudders, so that the vessels should not 
 be able to turn their broadsides, or perform any other manoeuvre. 
 All the men in his little fleet were ordered to strip to their waist 
 coats, and advance at the same time. He promised, if he lived, 
 to join and show them the way up the sides. Animated by so dar 
 ing an example, they moved swiftly, in profound stillness, as to 
 certain victory or death. The people on board the ships, behold 
 ing the good countenance with which they approached, ran one of 
 the vessels on shore, and struck the colours of the other. Had it 
 not been for the dastardly conduct of the ship's company in the lat 
 ter, who compelled the Captain to haul down his ensign, he would 
 have given the assailants a bloody reception : for the vessels were 
 well provided with spars, nettings, and every customary instru 
 ment of annoyance as well as defence. 
 
 It now remained to attack the fortress, which stood on an island, 
 and seemed to have been rendered inaccessible by an high abattis 
 of black-ash, that every where projected over the water. Lieute 
 nant-Colonel Putnam proposed a mode of attack, and offered his 
 services to carry it into effect. The General approved the pro 
 posal. Our partizan, accordingly, caused a sufficient number of 
 boats to be fitted for the enterprize. The sides of each boat were 
 surrounded with fascines, musket proof, which covered the men. 
 completely. A wide plank, twenty feet in length, was then fitted 
 to every boat in such manner, by having an angular piece sawed 
 from one extremity, that, when fastened by ropes on both sides of
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 281 
 
 the bow, it might be raised or lowered at pleasure. The design 
 was, that the plank should be held erect, while the oarsmen forc 
 ed the bow with the utmost exertion against the abatis ; and that 
 afterwards being dropped on the pointed brush, it should serve 
 as a kind of bridge to assist the men in passing over them. Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel Putnam having made his dispositions to attempt 
 the escalade in many places at the same moment, advanced with 
 his boats in admirable order. The garrison perceiving these ex 
 traordinary and unexpected machines, waited not the assault, but 
 capitulated. Lieutenant-Colonel Putnam was particularly ho 
 noured by General Amherst, for his ingenuity in this invention, 
 and promptitude in its execution. The three armies arrived at 
 Montreal within two days of each other ; and the conquest of Ca 
 nada became complete without the loss of a single drop of blood. 
 
 At no great distance from Montreal stands the savage village 
 Called Cochnawaga. Here our partizan found the Indian chief 
 who had formerly made him prisoner. That Indian was highly 
 delighted to see his old acquaintance, whom he entertained in his 
 own well-built stone house with great friendship and hospitality ; 
 while his guest did not discover less satisfaction in an opportunity 
 of shaking the brave savage by the hand, and proffering him pro* 
 tection in this reverse of his military fortunes. 
 
 When the belligerent powers were considerably exhausted, a 
 rupture took place between Great-Britain and Spain, in the month 
 of January, 1762, and an expedition was formed that campaign, 
 under Lord Albemarle, against the Havannah. A body of Pro 
 vincials, composed of five hundred men from the Jerseys, eight 
 hundred from New- York, and one thousand from Connecticut, 
 joined his Lordship. General Lyman, who raised the regiment 
 of one thousand men in Connecticut, being the senior officer, com 
 manded the whole : of course, the immediate command of his 
 regiment devolved upon Lieutenant-Colonel Putnam. The fleet 
 that carried these troops sailed from New-York, and arrived safely 
 on the coast of Cuba. There a terrible storm arose, and tha 
 transport in which Lieutenant-Colonel Putnam had embarked, 
 with five hundred men, was wrecked on a rift of craggy rocks. 
 The weather was so tempestuous, and the surf, which ran moun 
 tain-high, dashed with such violence against the ship, that the 
 most experienced seamen expected it would soon part asunder. 
 The rest of the fleet, so far from being able to afford assistance, 
 with difficulty rode out the gale. In this deplorable situation, as 
 the only expedient by which they could be saved, strict order was 
 maintained, and all those people who best understood the use of 
 
 2O
 
 282 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 tools, instantly employed in constructing rafts from spars, plank^ 
 and whatever other materials could be procured. There hap 
 pened to be on board a large quantity of strong cords, (the same 
 that are used in the whale fishery) which, being fastened to the 
 rafts, after the first had with inconceivable hazard reached the 
 shore, were of infinite service in preventing the others from driv 
 ing out to sea, as also in dragging them athwart the billows to the 
 beach ; by which means every man was finally saved. With the 
 same presence of mind to take advantage of circumstances, and 
 the same precaution to prevent confusion on similar occasions, 
 how many valuable lives, prematurely lost, might have been pre 
 served as blessings to their families, their friends, and their coun 
 try ! As soon as all were landed, Lieutenant-Colonel Putnam for 
 tified his camp, that he might not be exposed to insult from the 
 inhabitants of the neighbouring districts, or from those of Cartha- 
 gena, who were but twenty-four miles distant. Here the party 
 remained unmolested several days, until the storm had so much 
 abated as to permit the convoy to take them off. They soon joined 
 the troops before the Havannah, who, having been several weeks 
 in that unhealthy climate, already began to grow exti-emely sickly.* 
 The opportune arrival of the Provincial reinforcement, in perfect 
 health, contributed not a little to forward the works, and hasten 
 the reduction of that important place. But the Provincials suf 
 fered so miserably by sickness afterwards, that very few ever re 
 turned to their native land again. 
 
 Although a general peace among the European powers was ra 
 tified in 1763, yet the savages on our western frontiers still con 
 tinued their hostilities. After they had taken several posts, Ge 
 neral Bradstreet was sent, in 1764, with an army, against them. 
 Colonel Putnam, then, for the first time, appointed to the com 
 mand of a regiment, was on the expedition, as was the Indian 
 chief whom I have several times had occasion to mention as his 
 capturer, at the head of one hundred Cochnawaga warriors. Be- 
 
 * Colonel Haviland 1 , an accomplished officer, several times mentioned 
 in these memoirs, who brought to America a regiment of one thousand 
 Irish veterans, had but seventy men remaining alive when he left the Ha 
 vannah. Colonel Haviland, during this siege, having once with his re 
 giment engaged and routed five hundred Spaniards, met Colonel Putnam 
 on his return, and said " Putnam, give me a pinch of snuff." " I never 
 " carry any," returned Putnam. " I have always just such luck," cried 
 Havilaud; " the rascally Spaniards have shot away my pocket, snuff-box 
 " and all."
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 28S 
 
 ibre General Bradstreet reached Detroit, which the savages in 
 vested, Captain D'Ell, the faithful friend and intrepid fellow. 
 Soldier of Colonel Putnam, had been slain in a desperate sally. He 
 having been detached with five hundred men, in 1763, by General 
 Amherst, to raise the siege, found means of throwing the succour 
 into the fort. But the garrison, commanded by Major Gladwine, 
 a brave and sensible officer, had been so much weakened, by the 
 lurking and insidious mode of war practised by the savages, 
 that not a man could be spared to co-operate in an attack upon 
 them. The Commandant would even have dissuaded Captaia 
 D'Ell from the attempt, on account of the great disparity in num 
 bers ; but the latter, relying on the discipline and courage of his 
 men, replied, " Ood forbid that I should ever disobey the orders 
 ** of my General," and immediately disposed them for action. It 
 was obstinate and bloody ; but the vastly superior number of the 
 savages enabled them to enclose Captain D'Ell's party on every 
 side, and compelled him, finally, to fight his way, in retreat from 
 one stone-house to another. Having halted to breathe a moment, 
 he saw one of his bravest Serjeants lying at a small distance, 
 wounded through the thigh, and wallowing in his blood. Where 
 upon he desired some of the men to run and bring the Serjeant to 
 the house, but they declined it. Then declaring, " that he never 
 " would leave so brave a soldier in the field to be tortured by the 
 " savages," he ran and .endeavoured to help him up at the in 
 stant a volley of shot dropped them both dead together. The 
 party continued retreating from house to house until they re 
 gained the fort ; where it was found the conftict had been so sharp, 
 and lasted so long, that only fifty men remained alive of the five 
 hundred who had sallied. 
 
 Upon the arrival of General Bradstreet, the savages saw that 
 all further efforts, in arms, would be vain, and accordingly, 
 after many fallacious proposals for a peace, and frequent tergi 
 versations in the ncgociation, they concluded a treaty, which ended 
 the war in America. 
 
 Colonel Putnam, at the expiration of ten years from his first 
 receiving a commission, after having seen as much service, en 
 dured as many hardships, encountered as many dangers, and 
 acquired as many laurels as any officer of his rank, with great 
 satisfaction laid aside his uniform, and returned to his plough. 
 The various and uncommon scenes of war in which he had acted 
 a respectable part, his intercourse with the world, and intimacy 
 with some of the first characters in the army, joined with occa- 
 sional reading, had not only brought into view whatever talents lie
 
 284 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 possessed from nature, but, at the same time, had extended his 
 knowledge, and polished his manners, to a considerable degree. 
 Not having become inflated with pride, or forgetful of his old 
 connections, he had the good fortune to possess entirely the good 
 will of his fellow citizens. No character stood fairer in the public 
 ye for integrity, bravery, and patriotism. He was employed in 
 several offices in his own town, and not unfrequently elected to 
 represent it in the General Assembly. The year after his return 
 to private life, the minds of men were strangely agitated, by an 
 attempt of the British Parliament to introduce the memorable 
 Stamp Act in America. This germe policy, whose growth was 
 repressed by the moderate temperature in which it was kept by 
 some administrations, did not fully disclose its fruit until nearly 
 eleven years afterwards. All the world knows how it then 
 ripened into a civil war. 
 
 On the twenty-second day of March, 1765, the Stamp Act re 
 ceived the royal assent. It was to take place in America on the 
 first day of November following. This innovation spread a 
 sudden and universal alarm. The political pulse in the Provinces, 
 from Main to Georgia, throbbed in sympathy. The Assemblies, 
 in most of these colonies, that they might oppose it legally and in 
 concert, appointed Delegates to confer together on the subject. 
 This first Congress met, early in October, at New- York. They 
 agreed upon a Declaration of Rights and Grievances of the Co 
 lonists ; together with separate Addresses to the King, Lords, and 
 Commons of Great-Britain. In the mean time, the people had 
 determined, in order to prevent the stamped paper from being 
 distributed, that the Stamp-Masters should not enter on the ex 
 ecution of their office. That appointment, in Connecticut, had 
 been conferred upon Mr. Ingersol, a very dignified, sensible, and 
 learned native of the colony, who, upon being solicited to resign, 
 did not, in the first instance, give a satisfactory answer. In con 
 sequence of which, a great number of the substantial yeomanry, 
 on horseback, furnished with provisions for themselves, and pro 
 vender for their horses, assembled in the eastern counties, and 
 began their march for New-Haven, to receive the resignation of 
 Mr. Ingersol. A junction with another body was to have been 
 formed in Branford. But having learned at Hartford, that Mr. 
 Ingersol would be in town the next day to claim protection from 
 the Assembly, they took quarters there, and kept out patroles 
 during the whole night, to prevent his arrival without their know 
 ledge. The succeeding morning they resumed their march, and 
 met Mr. Ingersol in Wethersfield. They told him their business,
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 285 
 
 and lie, after some little hesitation, mounted on a round table, 
 read his resignation.* That finished, the multitude desired him 
 to cry out *' liberty and property" three times; which he did, and 
 \fas answered by three loud huzzas. He then dined with some 
 of the principal men at a tavern, by whom he was treated with 
 great politeness, and afterwards was escorted by about five hun 
 dred horse to Hartford, where he again read his resignation, 
 amidst the unbounded acclamations of the people. I have chosen 
 to style this collection the yeomanry, the multitude, or the people, 
 because I could not make use of the English word mod, which 
 generally signifies a disorderly concurrence of the rabble, without 
 conveying an erroneous idea. It is scarcely necessary to add, 
 that the people, their objects being effected, without offering dis 
 turbance, dispersed to their homes.f 
 
 Colonel Putnam, who instigated the people to these measures, 
 was prevented from attending by accident. But he was deputed 
 oon after, with two other gentlemen, to wait on Governor Fitch 
 on the same subject. The questions of the Governor, and an 
 swers of Putnam, will serve to indicate the spirit of the times. 
 After some conversation, the Governor asked, " What he should 
 *' do if the stamped paper should be sent to him by the King's 
 " authority ?" Putnam replied, "lock it up until we shall visit 
 
 * The curious may be pleased to know that the resignation was ex 
 pressed in these explicit terms : 
 
 Wcthertfield, September 9th, 1765. 
 
 " I do hereby promise, that I never will receive any stamped papers 
 " which may arrive from Europe, in consequence of an act lately passed 
 "in the Parliament of Great-Britain; nor officiate as Stamp-Master or 
 " Distributer of Stamps, within the colony of Connecticut, either directly 
 " or indirectly. And I do hereby notify to all the inhabitants of his Ma- 
 " jesty's colony of Connecticut (notwithstanding the said office or trust 
 " has been committed to me) not to apply to me, ever after, for any 
 " stamped paper ; hereby declaring that I do resign the said office, and execute 
 " these PRESENTS of my own FREE WILL AXD ACCORD, without any 
 " equivocation or mental reservation. 
 
 " In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand, 
 
 "J. INGERSOL." 
 
 f To give a trait of the urbanity that prevailed, it may not be amiss to 
 mention a jest that passed in the cavalcade to Hartford, and was received 
 with the most perfect good humour. Mr. Ingersol, who by chance rode 
 a white horse, being asked " What he thought, to find himself attended 
 " by such a retinue?" replied, " that he had now a clearer idea than 
 " ever he had before conceived of that passage in the Revelations, 
 " which describes Death on a pale hone, and hell follcnving him."
 
 2Sfi LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 " you again." "And what will you do then?" "We shall ex- 
 " pect you to give us the key of the room in which it is deposited j 
 " and, if you think fit, in order to screen yourself from blame, 
 ** you may forewarn us, upon our peril, not to enter the 
 " room." " And what will you do afterwards?" " Send it safely 
 *' back again." " But if I should refuse admission?" " In such 
 " a case, your house will be levelled with the dust in five mi- 
 " nutes." It was supposed, that a report of this conversation 
 was one reason why the stamped paper was never sent from New. 
 York to Connecticut. 
 
 Such unanimity in the Provincial Assemblies, and decision in 
 the yeomamy, carried beyond the Atlantic a conviction of the 
 inexpediency of attempting to enforce the new Revenue System. 
 The Stamp Act being repealed, and the measures in a manner 
 quieted, Colonel Putnam continued to labour with his own hands, 
 at farming, witlvout interruption, except, for a little time, by the 
 loss of the first joint of his right thumb from one accident, and 
 the compound fracture of his right thigh from another : that thigh, 
 being rendered nearly an inch shorter than the left, occasioned 
 him ever to limp in his walk. 
 
 The Provincial officers and soldiers from Connecticut, who 
 Survived the conquest of the Havannah, appointed General Ly- 
 man to receive the remainder of their prize-money, in England. 
 A company, composed partly of military, and partly of other 
 gentlemen, whose object was to obtain from the Crown *a grant 
 of land on the Mississippi, also committed to him the negociation 
 of their affairs. When several years had elapsed in applications, 
 a grant of land was obtained. In 1770, General Lyman, with 
 Colonel Putnam, and two or three others, went to explore the 
 situation. After a tedious voyage, and a laborious passage up the 
 Mississippi, they accomplished their business. 
 
 General Lyman came back to Connecticut with the explorers, 
 but soon returned to the Natchez : there formed an establishment 
 and laid his bones. Colonel Putnam placed some labourers with 
 provisions and farming utensils upon his location ; but the increas 
 ing troubles shortly after ruined the prospect of deriving any ad 
 vantage from that quarter. 
 
 In speaking of the troubles that ensued, I not only omit to say 
 any thing on the obnoxious claim asserted in the British declara 
 tory act, the continuation of the duty on tea, the attempt to ob 
 trude that article upon the Americans, the abortion of this pro 
 ject, the Boston Port Bill, the alteration of the charter of Massa 
 chusetts, and other topics of universal notoriety ; but even wave 
 all discussion of irritations on the one part, and supplications on
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 28T 
 
 the other, which preceded the war between Great-Britain and her 
 colonies on this continent. It will ever be acknowledged by those 
 who were best acquainted with facts, and it should be made known 
 to posterity, that the king of England had not, in his extensive 
 dominions, subjects more loyal, more dutiful, or more zealous for 
 his glory than the Americans ; and that nothing short of a melan 
 choly persuasion, that the u measures which for many years had 
 ** been systematically pursued by his ministers, were calculated to 
 " subvert their constitutions," could have dissolved their powerful 
 attachment to that kingdom which they fondly called their fmrent 
 country. Here, without digression to develope the cause, or de 
 scribe the progress, it may suffice to observe, the dispute now 
 verged precipitately to an awful crisis. Most considerate men 
 foresaw it would terminate in blood. But rather than suffer the 
 chains, which they believed in preparation, to be rivetted, they 
 nobly determined to sacrifice their lives. In vain did they depre 
 cate the infatuation of those transatlantic counsels which drove them 
 to deeds of desperation. Convinced of the rectitude of their cause, 
 and doubtful of the issue, they felt the most painful solicitude for 
 the fate of their country, on contemplating the superior strength of 
 the nation with which it was to contend. America, thinly inha 
 bited, under thirteen distinct colonial governments, could have 
 little hope of success, but from the protection of providence, and 
 the unconquerable spirit of freedom which pervaded the mass of 
 the people. It is true, since the peace she had surprisingly in 
 creased in wealth and population; but the resources of Britain al 
 most exceeded credibility or conception. It is not wonderful, then, 
 that some good citizens, of weaker nerves, recoiled at the pros 
 pect ; while others, who had been officers in the late war, or who 
 had witnessed, by travelling, the force of Britain, stood aloof. All 
 eyes were now turned to find the men who, possessed of military 
 experience, would dare, in the approaching hour of severest trial, 
 to lead their undisciplined fellow-citizens to battle. For none 
 were so stupid as not to comprehend, that want of success would 
 involve the leaders in the punishment of rebellion. Putnam was 
 among the first and most conspicuous who stepped forth. Although, 
 the Americans had been, by many who wished their subjugation, 
 indiscreetly as indiscriminately stigmatized with the imputation 
 of cowardice he felt he knew for himself, he was no coward ; 
 and from what he had seen and known, he believed that his coun 
 trymen, driven to the extremity of defending their rights by arms, 
 would find no difficulty in wiping away the ungenerous aspersion. 
 As he happened to be often at Boston, he held many conversations, 
 on these subjects, with General Gage, the British Commander ia
 
 288 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 Chief, Lord Percy, Colonel Sheriff, Colonel Small, and many of 
 ficers with whom he had formerly served, who were now at the 
 Head-Quarters. Being often questioned, " in case the dispute 
 " should proceed to hostilities, what part he would really take ?" 
 he always answered, " with his country ; and that, let whatever 
 " might happen, he was prepared to abide the consequence." 
 Being interrogated, " whether he, who had been a witness to the 
 " prowess and victories of the British fleets and armies, did not 
 " think them equal to the conquest of a country which was not the 
 " owner of a single ship, regiment, or magazine?" he rejoined, 
 that " he could only say, justice would be on our side, and the 
 " event with providence: but that he had calculated, if it required 
 " six years for the combined forces of England and her colonies 
 " to conquer such a feeble country as Canada, it would, at least, 
 " take a very long time for England alone to overcome her own 
 " widely extended colonies, which were much stronger than Ca- 
 " nada : That when men fought for every thing dear, in what 
 u they believed to be the most sacred of all causes, and in their own 
 " native land, they would have great advantages over their ene- 
 " mies, who were not in the same situation ; and that, having 
 " taken into view all circumstances, for his own part, he fully be- 
 " lieved that America would not be so easily conquered by Eng- 
 " land as those gentlemen seemed to expect." Being once, in par 
 ticular, asked, " whether he did not seriously believe that a well 
 " appointed British army of five thousand veterans could march 
 " through the whole continent of America ?" he replied briskly, 
 " no doubt, if they behaved civilly, and paid well for every thing 
 " they wanted; but" after a moment's pause added " if they 
 " should attempt it in a hostile manner (though the American men 
 " were out of the question) the women, with their ladles and broom- 
 " sticks, would knock them all on the head before they had got 
 " half way through." This was the tenor, our hero hath often told 
 me, of these amicable interviews ; and thus, as it commonly hap 
 pens in disputes about future events which depend on opinion, they 
 parted without conviction, no more to meet in a friendly manner, 
 until after the appeal should have been made to Heaven, and the is 
 sue confirmed by the sword. In the mean time, to provide against 
 the worst contingency, the militia in the several colonies was 
 sedulously trained ; and those select companies, the flower of our 
 youth, which were denominated minutemen, agreeably to the in 
 dication of their name, held themselves in readiness to march at a 
 moment's warning. 
 
 At length the fatal day arrived, when hostilities commenced. 
 General Gage, in the evening of the 18th of April, 1775, detached
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 289 
 
 from Boston, the grenadiers and light infantry of the army, com 
 manded by Lieutenant-Colonel Smith, to destory some military 
 and other stores deposited by the province at Concord. About 
 sunrise the next morning, the detachment, on marching into Lex 
 ington, fired upon a company of militia who had just re-assembled; 
 for having been alarmed late at night, with reports that the regu 
 lars were advancing to demolish the stores, they collected on their 
 parade, and were dismissed with orders to re-assemble at beat of 
 drum. It is established by the affidavits of more than thirty per 
 sons who were present, that the first fire, which killed eight of the 
 militia, then beginning to disperse, was given by the British, with 
 out provocation. The spark of war, thus kindled, ran with un 
 exampled rapidity, and raged with unwotited violence. To repel 
 the aggression, the people of the bordering towns spontaneously 
 rushed to arms, and poured their scattering shot from every con 
 venient station upon the regulars, who, after marching to Concord, 
 and destroying the magazine, would have found their retreat in 
 tercepted, had they not been reinforced by Lord Percy, with the 
 battalion companies of three regiments, and a body of marines. 
 Notwithstanding the junction, they were hard pushed, and pursued 
 until they could find protection from their ships. Of the British, 
 two hundred and eighty-three were killed, wounded, and taken. 
 The Americans had thirty-nine killed, nineteen wounded, and two 
 made prisoners. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the celerity with which the intelligence 
 flew every where, that blood had been shed by the British troops. 
 The country, in motion, exhibited but one scene of hurry, prepa 
 ration and revenge. Putnam, who was plowing when he heard 
 the news, left his plough in the middle of the field, unyoked his 
 team, and without waiting to change his clothes, set off for the 
 theatre of action. But finding the British retreated to Boston, 
 and invested by a sufficient force to watch their movements, he 
 came back to Connecticut, levied a regiment, under authority of 
 the legislature, and speedily returned to Cambridge.* He was 
 
 * An article, void of foundation, mentioning an interview between Ge 
 neral Gage and General Putnam, appeared in the English Gazettes, in these 
 words : ' General Gage, viewing the American army with his telescope, 
 ' saw General Putnam in it, which surprised him ; and he contrived to 
 ' get a message delivered to him, that he wanted to speak to him. Put- 
 ' nam, without any hesitation, waited upon him. General Gage showed 
 
 him his fortifications, and advised him to lay down his arms. General 
 
 * Putnam replied, he could force his fortifications in half an hour, and ad- 
 ' vised General Gage to go on board the ships with his troops.' 
 
 2P
 
 590 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 now promoted to be a Major-General on the Provincial staff, by 
 his colony ; and, in a little time, confirmed by Congress, in the 
 same rank on the Continental establishment. General Ward, of 
 Massachusetts, by common consent, commanded the whole ; and 
 the celebrated Dr. Warren was made a Major-General. 
 
 Not long after this period, the British Commander in Chief 
 found the means to convey a proposal, privately, to General Put 
 nam, that if he would relinquish the rebel party, he might rely 
 upon being made a Major-General on the British establishment, 
 and receiving a great pecuniaiy compensation for his services. 
 General Putnam spurned at the offer ; which, however, he thought 
 prudent at that time to conceal from public notice. 
 
 It could scarcely have been expected, but by those credulous pa 
 triots who were prone to believe whatever they ardently desired, 
 that officers assembled from colonies distinct in their manners and 
 prejudices, selected from laborious occupations, to command a he 
 terogeneous crowd of their equals, compelled to be soldiers only by 
 the spur of occasion, should long be able to preserve harmony 
 among themselves, and subordination among their followers. As 
 the fact would be a phenomenon, the idea was treated with mirth 
 and mockery by the friends to the British government. Yet this 
 unshaken embryo of a military corps, composed of militia, minute- 
 men, volunteers, and levies, with a burlesque appearance of mul 
 tiformity in arms, accoutrements, cloathing and conduct, at last 
 grew into a regular army an army which, having vindicated the 
 rights of human nature, and established the independence of a new 
 empire, merited and obtained the glorious distinction of the pa 
 triot army the patriot army, whose praises for their fortitude in 
 adversity, bravery in battle, moderation in conquest, perseverance 
 in supporting the cruel extremities of hunger and nakedness with 
 out a murmur or sigh, as well as for their magnanimity in retiring 
 
 The apprehension of an attack is adduced with much more verisimili 
 tude in M'Fingal, as the reason why General Gage would not suffer the 
 "inhabitants to go from the town of Boston, after he had promised to grant 
 permission .- 
 
 ' So Gage of late agreed, you know, 
 
 ' To let the Boston people go : 
 
 Yet when he saw, 'gainst troops that brav'd him, 
 
 ' They were the only guards that sav'd him, 
 
 ' Kept off that Satan of a Putnam, 
 
 1 From breaking in to maul and ituitt'n him, 
 
 ' He'd too much wit such leagues t' observe, 
 
 ' And shut them in again to starve.' M'FixoA.1.. Canto I,
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 351 
 
 to civil life, at the moment of victory, with arms in their hands, 
 and without any just compensation for their services, will only 
 cease to be celebrated when time shall exist no more. 
 
 Enthusiasm for the cause of liberty, substituted in the place of 
 discipline, not Only kept these troops together, but enabled them 
 at once to perform the duties of a disciplined army. Though the 
 commanding officers from the four colonies of New-England were 
 in a manner independent, they acted harmoniously in concert. 
 The first attention had been prudently directed towards forming 
 some little redoubts and intrenchments ; for it was well known that 
 lines, however slight or untenable, were calculated to inspire raw 
 soldiers with a confidence in themselves. The next care was to 
 bring the live stock from the islands in Boston bay, in order to pre 
 vent the enemy (already surrounded by land), from making use of 
 them for fresh provisions. In the latter end of May, between two 
 and three hundred men were sent to drive off the stock from Hog 
 and Noddle islands, which are situated on the north-east side of 
 Boston harbour. Advantage having been taken of the ebb-tide, 
 when the water is fordable between the main and Hog-island, as it 
 is between that and Noddle-island, the design was effected. But a 
 skirmish ensued, in which some of the marines, who had been sta 
 tioned to guard them, were killed : and as the firing continued 
 between the British water-craft and our party, a reinforcement of 
 three hundred men, with two pieces of artillery, was ordered to 
 join the latter. General Putnam took the command, and having 
 himself gone down on the beach, within conversing distance, and 
 ineffectually ordered the people on board an armed schooner to 
 strike, he plied her with shot so furiously that the crew made their 
 escape, and the vessel was burnt. An armed sloop was likewise 
 so much disabled as to be towed off by the boats of the fleet. Thus 
 ended this affair, in which several hundred sheep, and some cattle 
 were removed from under the muzzles of the enemy's cannon, and 
 our men, accustomed to stand fire, by being for many hours ex 
 posed to it, without meeting with any loss. 
 
 The Provincial Generals having received advice that the Bri 
 tish Commander in Chief designed to take possession of the 
 heights on the peninsula of Charles-Town, detached a thousand 
 men in the night of the 16th of June, under the orders of General 
 Warren, to intrench themselves upon one of these eminences, 
 named Bunker-Hill. Though retarded by accidents, from begin 
 ning the work until nearly midnight, yet, by dawn of day, they 
 had constructed a redoubt about eight rods square, and com 
 menced a breast-work from the left to the low grounds ; which an 
 Insufferable fire from the shipping, floating batteries, and cannon
 
 292 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM, 
 
 on Cop's Hill, in Boston, prevented them from completing. At 
 mid-day four battalions of foot, ten companies of grenadiers, 
 ten companies of light-infantry, with a proportion of artillery, 
 commanded by Major-General Howe, landed under a heavy can 
 nonade from the ships, and advanced in three lines to the attack. 
 The light-infantry being formed on the right, was directed to turn 
 the left flank of the Americans; and the grenadiers, supported 
 by two battalions, to storm the redoubt in front. Meanwhile, on 
 application, these troops were augmented by the 47th regiment, 
 the 1st battalion of marines, together with some companies of 
 light-infantry and grenadiers, which formed an aggregate force 
 of between two and three thousand men. But so difficult was it 
 to reinforce the Americans, by sending detachments across the 
 Neck, which was raked by the cannon of the shipping, that not 
 more than fifteen hundred men were brought into action. Few 
 instances can be produced in the annals of mankind, where sol 
 diers, who never had before faced an enemy, or heard the whist 
 ling of a ball, behaved with such deliberate and persevering 
 valour. It was not until after the grenadiers had been twice re 
 pulsed to their boats, General Warren slain, his troops exhausted 
 of their ammunition, their lines in a manner enfiladed by artillery, 
 and the redoubt half filled with British regulars, that the word 
 was given to retire. In that forlorn condition, the spectacle was 
 astonishing as new, to behold these undisciplined men, most of 
 them without bayonets, disputing with the but-end of their mus 
 kets against the British bayonet, and receding in sullen despair. 
 Still the light-infantry on their left would certainly have gained 
 their rear, and exterminated this gallant corps, had not a body 
 of four hundred Connecticut men, with the Captains Knowlton 
 and Chester, after forming a temporary breast-work, by pulling 
 up one post-and-rail fence and putting it upon another, performed 
 prodigies of bravery. They held the enemy at bay until the 
 main body had relinquished the heights, and then retreated across 
 the Neck with more regularity, and less loss, than could have 
 been expected. The British, who effected nothing but the de 
 struction of Charles-Town by a wanton conflagration, had more 
 than one half of their whole number killed and wounded: the 
 Americans only three hundred and fifty-five killed, wounded, and 
 missing. In this battle, the presence and example of General 
 P^utnam, who arrived with the reinforcement, were not less conspi 
 cuous than useful. He did every thing that an intrepid and expe 
 rienced officer could accomplish. The enemy pursued to Winter- 
 HillPutnam made a stand, and drove them back under cover of 
 their ships.
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 293 
 
 The premature death of Warren, one of the most illustrious 
 patriots that ever bled in the cause of freedom ; the veteran ap-; 
 pearance of Putnam, collected, yet ardent in action; together 
 with the astonishing scenery and interesting groupe around Bun 
 ker-Hill, rendered this a magnificent subject for the historic 
 pencil. / Accordingly Trumbull, formerly an Aid-de-Camp to Ge 
 neral Washington, afterwards Deputy-Adjutant-General of the 
 northern- army, now an artist of great celebrity in Europe, hath 
 finished this picture with that boldness of conception, and those 
 touches of art which demonstrate the master. Heightened in 
 horror by the flames of a burning town, and the* smoke of con 
 flicting armies, the principal scene, taken the moment when 
 Warren fell, represents that hero in the agonies of death, a gre 
 nadier on the point of bayoneting him, and Colonel Small, to 
 whom he was familiarly known, arresting the soldier's arms; at 
 the head of the British line, Major Pitcairne is seen falling dead 
 into the arms of his son ; and not far distant General Putnam is 
 placed at the rear of our retreating troops, in the light blue and 
 scarlet uniform he wore that day, with his head uncovered, and 
 his sword waving towards the enemy, as it were to stop their 
 impetuous pursuit. In nearly the same attitude he is exhibited 
 by Barlow in that excellent poem, the Vision of Columbus. 
 
 " There strides bold Putnam, and from all the plains 
 " Calls the third host, the tardy rear sustains, 
 * { And, 'mid the whizzing deaths that fill the air, 
 " Waves back his sword, and dares the folPwing war."* 
 
 * The writer of this Essay had occasion of remarking to the p^et and 
 the painter, while they were three thousand miles distant from each other, 
 at which distance they had formed and executed the plans of their 
 respective productions, the similarity observable in their descriptions of 
 General Putnam. These Chiefs d'ceuvres are mentioned not with a vain 
 presumption of adding eclat of duration to works which have received 
 the seal of immortality, but because they preserve, in the sister arts, the 
 same illustrious action of our hero. I persuade myself I need not apo 
 logize for annexing the beautiful lines from tke poem in question, on the 
 death of General Warren. 
 
 " There, hapless Warren, thy cold earth was seen : 
 " There spring thy laurels in immortal green ; 
 " Dearest of Chiefs that ever press'd the plain, 
 " In freedom's cause, with early honours, slain,
 
 294 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 After this action, the British strongly fortified themselves on 
 the peninsulas of Boston and Charles-Town ; while the Provincials 
 remained posted in the circumjacent country in such a manner 
 as to form a blockade. In the beginning of July, General Wash 
 ington, who had been constituted by Congress, Commander in 
 Chief of the American forces, arrived at Cambridge, to take the 
 command. Having formed the army into three grand divisions, 
 consisting of about twelve regiments each, he appointed Major- 
 General Ward to command the right wing, Major-General Lee 
 the left wing, and Major-General Putnam the reserve. General 
 Putnam's alertness in accelerating the construction of the neces 
 sary defences was particularly noticed and highly approved by 
 the Commander in Chief. 
 
 About the 20th of July, the declaration of Congress, setting 
 forth the reasons of their taking up arms, was proclaimed at the 
 head of the several divisions. It concluded with these patriotic and 
 noble sentiments : " In our own native land, in defence of the 
 u freedom that is our birth-right, and which we ever enjoyed until 
 " the late violation of it ; for the protection of our property, ac- 
 " quired solely by the honest industry of our forefathers and our- 
 " selves; against violence actually offered, we have taken up 
 a arms. We shall lay them down when hostilities shall cease on 
 " the part of the aggressors, and all danger of their being re- 
 " newed shall be removed, and not before. 
 
 " With an humble confidence in the mercies of the supreme 
 <l and impartial Judge and Ruler of the universe, we most de- 
 " voutly implore his divine goodness to conduct us happily through 
 " this great conflict, to dispose our adversaries to reconciliation 
 " on reasonable terms, and, thereby, to relieve the empire from 
 " the calamities of civil war." 
 
 As soon as these memorable words were pronounced to General 
 Putnam's division, which he had ordered to be paraded on Pros 
 pect-Hill, they shouted in three huzzas aloud, Amen ! whereat (a 
 cannon from the fort being fired as a signal) the new Standard) 
 lately sent from Connecticut, was suddenly seen to rise and unrol 
 itself to the wind. On one side was inscribed, in large letters of 
 gold, "Aw APPEAL TO HEAVEN," and on the other were deli 
 neated the armorial bearings of Connecticut, which, without sup 
 porters or crest, consist, unostentatiously, of three Vines; with 
 
 " Still dear in death, as when in fight you mov'd, 
 " By hosts applauded and by heav'n approv'd; 
 " The faithful muse shall tell the world thy fame, 
 " And unborn realms resound th* immortal name."
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 29S 
 
 this motto, " Qui transtulit, sustinet ;"* alluding to the pious con 
 fidence our forefathers placed in the protection of Heaven, on 
 those three allegorical scions KNOWLEDGE LIBERTY RELI 
 GION which they had been instrumental in transplanting to Ame 
 rica. 
 
 The strength of position on the enemy's part, and want of am 
 munition on our's, prevented operations of magnitude from being 
 attempted. Such diligence was ifced in fortifying our camps, and 
 such precaution adopted to prevent surprise, as to ensure tran 
 quillity to the troops during the winter. In the spring, a position 
 was taken so menacing to the enemy, as to cause them, on the 17th 
 of March, 1776, to abandon Boston, not without considerable pre 
 cipitation and dereliction of royal stores. 
 
 As a part of the hostile fleet lingered for some time in Nantas- 
 ket-Road, about nine miles below Boston, General Washington 
 continued himself in Boston, not only to see the coast entirely 
 clear, but also to make many indispensible arrangements. His 
 Excellency, proposing to leave Major-General Ward, with a few 
 regiments, to finish the fortifications intended as a security against 
 an attack by water, in the mean time dispatched the greater part 
 of the army to New-York, where it was most probable the enemy- 
 would make a descent. Upon the sailing of a fleet with troops in 
 the month of January, Major-General Lee had been sent to the de 
 fence of that city ; who, after having caused some works to be 
 laid out, proceeded to follow that fleet to South-Carolina. The 
 Commander in Chief was now exceedingly solicitous that these 
 works should be completed as soon as possible, and accordingly 
 gave the following 
 
 *' Orders and Instructions for Major-General Putnam. 
 
 " As there are the best reasons to believe that the enemy's fleet 
 " and army, which left Nantasket-Road last Wednesday evening, 
 " are bound to New-York, to endeavour to possess that important 
 " post, and, if possible, to secure the communication by Hudson's 
 " river to Canada, it must be our care to prevent them from ac- 
 " complishing their designs. To that end I have detached Bri- 
 " gadier-General Heath, with the whole body of riflemen, and five 
 " battalions of the Continental army, by the way of Norwich, in 
 " Connecticut, to New- York. These, by an express arrived yes- 
 " terday from General Heath, I have reason to believe, are in 
 u New-York. Six more battalions, under General Sullivan, march 
 
 * Literally, " He who transplanted them will support them,"
 
 29d LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM* 
 
 " this morning by the same route, and will, I hope, arrive ther 
 " in eight or ten days at farthest. The rest of the army will im- 
 " mediately follow in divisions, leaving only a convenient space be- 
 " tween each division, to prevent confusion, and want of accom- 
 " modation upon their march* You will, no doubt, make the best 
 " dispatch in getting to New-York. Upon your arrival there, you 
 ** will assume the command, and immediately proceed in con* 
 ** tinuing to execute the/ilan proposed by Major-General Lee, foi* 
 " fortifying that city, and securing the passes of the East and 
 " North rivers. If, upon consultation with the Brigadiers Gene- 
 " ral and Engineers, any alteration in that plan is thought neces-* 
 " sary, you are at liberty to make it : cautiously avoiding to break 
 " in too much upon his main design, unless where it may be ap- 
 " parently necessary so to do, and that by the general voice and 
 " opinion of the gentlemen above-mentioned. 
 
 " You will meet the Quarter-Master-General, Colonel Mifflin, 
 " and Commissary-General,* at New- York. As these are both 
 " men of excellent talents in their different departments, you will 
 11 do well to give them all the authority and assistance they re* 
 ** quire : And should a council of war be necessary, it is my direc-* 
 " tion they assist at it. 
 
 " Your long- service and experience will, better than my parti* 
 " cular directions at this distance, point out to you the works most 
 " proper to be first raised; and your perseverance, activity, and 
 " zeal will lead you, without my recommending it, to exert every 
 " nerve to disappoint the enemy's designs. 
 
 " Devoutly praying that the POWER which has hitherto sustained 
 " the American arms, may continue to bless them with the divine 
 " protection, I bid you FAREWELL. 
 
 " Given at Head-Quarters, in Cambridge, this twenty-ninth of 
 " March, 1776. 
 
 G. WASHINGTON." 
 
 Invested with these commands, General Putnam travelled by 
 long and expeditious stages to New- York. His first precaution, 
 upon his arrival, was to prevent disturbance, or surprise in the 
 night season. With these objects in view, after posting the ne 
 cessary guards, he issued his orders.f He instituted, likewise, 
 
 * Colonel Joseph Trumbull, eldest son to the Governor of that name, 
 f GENERAL ORDERS. 
 
 " Head-quarters, New-York, April 5, 1776. 
 
 " The soldiers are strictly enjoined to retire to their barracks and quar- 
 " ters at tattoo-beating, and to remain there until the reveille is beat. 
 " Necessity obliges the General to desire the inhabitants of the city to
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 2X 
 
 pfcher wholesome regulations to meliorate the police of the troops, 
 and to preserve the good agreement that subsisted between them 
 and the citizens. 
 
 Notwithstanding the war had now raged, in other parts, with 
 unaccustomed severity for nearly a year, yet the British ships at 
 New- York, one of which had once fired upon the town to intimi 
 date the inhabitants, found the means of being supplied v/ith fresh 
 water and provisions. General Putnam resolved to adopt effectual 
 measures for putting a period to this intercourse, and accordingly 
 expressed his prohibition * in the most pointed terms. 
 
 Nearly at the same moment, a detachment of a thousand Con 
 tinentals was sent to occupy Governor's Island, a regiment to for- 
 Cify Red Hook, and some companies of riflemen to the Jersey shore. 
 Of two boats, belonging to two armed vessels, which attempted 
 to take on board fresh water from the watering-place on Staten- 
 Island*, one was driven off by the riflemen, with two or three 
 seamen killed in it, and the other captured with thirteen. A 
 few days afterwards, Captain Vandeput, of the Asia man of 
 war, the senior officer of the ships on this station, finding the in 
 tercourse with the shore interdicted, their limits contracted, and 
 that no good purposes could be answered by remaining there, 
 sailed, with all the armed vessels, out of the harbour. These ar 
 rangements and transactions, joined to an unremitting attention to 
 the completion of the defences, gave full scape to the activity of 
 
 " observe the same rule, as no person will be permitted to pass any sen- 
 ' tery after this night, without the countersign. 
 
 " The inhabitants, whose business require it, may kuow ths counter 
 's:' sign, by applying to any of the Brigade-Majors." 
 
 * PROHIBITION. 
 
 Head-quarters, New-Tv*, April 8, 1775. 
 
 " The General informs the inhabitants, that it is become absolutely ne- 
 " cessary, that all communication between the ministerial fleet and the 
 " shore should be immediately stopped; for that purpose he has given 
 " positive orders, the ships should no longer be furnished with provisions. 
 " Any inhabitants, or others, who shall be taken that have been on board, 
 " after the publishing this order, or near any of the ships, or going on 
 V board, will be considered as enemies, and treated accordingly. 
 
 " All boats are to saii from Beekinan-slip. Captain James Alner is ap- 
 ?' pointed inspector, and will give permits to oystermen. It is ordered and 
 V expected that none attempt going without a pass. 
 
 " ISRAEL PUTNAM, 
 
 ." Major-General in the Continental Ajmy, and Commander in Chief 
 " of the Forces in New-York." 
 2Q
 
 298 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 General Putnam, until the arrival of General Washington, which 
 happened about the middle of April. 
 
 The Commander in Chief, in his first public orders, " compli 
 mented the officers who had successively commanded at New-York, 
 " and returned his thanks to them as well as to the officers and sol- 
 " diers under their command, for the many works of defence which 
 " had been so expeditiously erected : at the same time he expressed 
 11 an expectation that the same spirit of zeal for the service would 
 " continue to animate their future conduct," Putnam, who was 
 then the only Major-General with the main army, had still a chief 
 agency in forwarding the fortifications, and, with the assistance of 
 the Brigadiers Spencer and Lord Sth-ling, in assigning to the dif 
 ferent corps their alarm posts . 
 
 Congress having intimated a desire of consulting with the Com 
 mander in Chief, on the critical posture of affairs, his Excellency 
 repaired to Philadelphia accordingly, and was absent from the 
 twenty-first of May until the sixth of June. General Putnam, 
 who commanded in that interval, had it in charge to open all 
 letters directed to General Washington, on public service^ and, 
 if important, after regulating his conduct by their contents, to 
 forward them by express; to expedite the works then erecting ; 
 to begin others which were specified ; to establish signals for com 
 municating an alarm; to guard against the possibility of surprise; 
 to secure well the powder-magazine ; to augment, by every means 
 in his power, the quantity of cartridges ; and to send Brigadier- 
 General Lord Stirling to put the posts in the Highlands into a 
 proper condition of defence. He had also a private and confi 
 dential instruction, to afford' whatever aid might be required by 
 the Provincial Congress of New- York, for apprehending certain 
 of their disaffected citizens: and as it would be most convenient 
 to take the detachment for this service from the troops on Long- 
 Island, under the command of Brigadiers-General Greene, it was; 
 recommended that this officer should be advised of the plan, and 
 that the execution should be conducted with secrecy and celerity, 
 as well as with decency and good order. In the records of the 
 army are preserved the daily orders which were issued in the 
 absence of the Commander in Chief, who, on his return, was not 
 only satisfied that the works had been prosecuted with all possible- 
 dispatch, but also that the other duties had been properly dis 
 charged. 
 
 It was the latter end of June, when the British fleet, which 
 had been at Halifax waiting for reinforcements from Europe, 
 began to arrive at New-York. To obstruct its passage, some 
 marine preparations had been made. General Putnam, to whom*
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 29f 
 
 fhe direction of the whale-boats, fire-rafts, flat-bottomed boats, 
 and armed vessels, was committed, afforded his patronage to a 
 project for destroying the enemy's shipping by explosion. A ma- 
 chine, altogether different from any thing hitherto devised by the 
 art of man, had been invented by Mr. David Bushnell,* for sub- 
 
 * David Bushnell, A. M. of Saybrook, in Connecticut, invented seve 
 ral other machines for the annoyance of shipping ; these, from accidents, 
 not militating against the philosophical principles on which their success 
 depended, only partially succeeded. He destroyed a vessel in the charge 
 of Commodore Symmonds, whose report to the Admiral was published. 
 One of his kegs also demolished a vessel near the Long-Island shore. 
 About Christmas, 1777, he committed to the Delaware a number of kegs, 
 destined to fall among the British fleet at Philadelphia; but his squadron 
 of kegs, having been separated and retarded by the ice, demolished but a 
 single boat. This catastrophe, however, produced an alarm, unprecedented 
 in its nature and degree ; which has been so happily described in the sub 
 sequent song, by the Hon. Francis Hopkinson, that the event it celebrates 
 will not be forgotten, so long as mankind shall continue to be delighted 
 with works of humour and taste. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE KEGS: A Song. 
 
 Tune, Moggy Lawder. 
 Gallants, attend, and hear a friend 
 
 Thrill forth harmonious ditty : 
 Strange things I'll tell, which late befd 
 
 In Philadelphia city. 
 
 *Twas early day, as poets say, 
 
 Just when the sun was rising, 
 A soldier stood on log of wood, 
 
 And saw a sight surprising. 
 
 As in a maze he stood to gaze, 
 
 The truth 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, 
 
 The strange appearance viewing, 
 First damn'd his eyes, in great surprise, 
 
 Then said " Some mischief's brewing. 
 
 " These Kegs now hold the rebels bold, 
 
 " Pack'd up like pickled herring ; 
 " And they're come down, t' attack the town 
 
 " In this new way of ferry'ng."
 
 300 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 marine navigation, which was found to answer the purpose per-* 
 fectly, of rowing horizontally at any given depth under water, 1 
 and of rising or sinking at pleasure. To this machine, called 
 
 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. 
 
 Now up and down, throughout the town, 
 
 Most frantic scenes were acted ; 
 And some ran here, and some ran there, 
 
 Like men almost distracted. 
 
 Some fire cried, whicli some denied, 
 
 But said the earth had quaked : 
 And girls and boys, with hideous noise, 
 
 Ran through the town half naked. 
 
 Sir William* he, snug as a flea, 
 
 Lay all this time a snoring ; 
 Nor dreamt of harm, as he lay warm 
 
 In bed with Mrs. L*r*ng. 
 
 Now in a fright, he starts upright, 
 
 Awak'd by such a clatter : 
 He rubs both eyes, and boldly cries, 
 
 " For God's sake, what's the matter ?" 
 
 At his bed-side he then espied 
 
 Sir Erskinef at command, Sir ; 
 Upon one foot he had one boot, 
 
 And t' other in his hand, Sir. 
 
 "Arise! arise!" Sir Erskine cries ; 
 
 " The rebels more's the pity 
 lk Without a boat, are all on float, 
 
 " And rang'd before the city. 
 
 " The motley crew, in vessels new, 
 " With Satan for their guide, Sir, 
 
 " Pack'd up in bags, or wooden kegs, 
 " Come driving down the tide, Sir : 
 
 * Sir William Howe. t 3'ir William Erskin*.
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 301 
 
 the American Tin-tie, was attached a magazine of powder, which 
 it was intended to be fastened under the bottom of a ship, with 
 a driving screw, in such sort, that the same stroke which dis- 
 
 " Therefore prepare for bloody war } 
 
 " These kegs must all be touted, 
 " Or surely we despis'd shall be, 
 
 " And British courage doubted." 
 
 The Royal band now ready stand, 
 
 All rang'd in dread array, Sir, 
 With stomach's 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* vales, the rebel dales, 
 
 With rebel trees surrounded, 
 The distant woods, the hills and floods, 
 
 With rebel echoes sounded. 
 
 The fish below swam to and fro, 
 
 Attack 'd from ev'ry quarter; 
 " Why sure," thought they, " the Devil's to pay 
 
 " 'Mong'st folks above the water." 
 
 The kegs, 'tis said, though strongly made 
 
 Of rebel staved and hoops, Sir, 
 Could not oppose their pow'rful foes, 
 
 The conqu'ring British troops, Sir. 
 
 From morn to night those men of might 
 
 Display'd amazing courage ; 
 And when the sun was fairly down, 
 
 Retir'd to sup their porridge. 
 
 An hundred men, with each a pen, 
 
 Or more, upon my word, Sir, 
 It is most true, would be too few 
 
 Their valour to record, Sir. 
 
 * The British officers were so fond of the word rtbfl, that they often applied it most tf> 
 surdJy.
 
 302 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 engaged it from the machine, should put the internal clock-work 
 in motion. This being done, the ordinary operation of a gun-lock) 
 at the distance of half an hour, an hour, or any determinate 
 time, would cause the powder to explode, and leave the effects to 
 the common laws of nature. The simplicity, yet combination 
 discovered in the mechanism of this wonderful machine, were 
 acknowledged by those skilled in physics, and particularly hy 
 draulics, to be not less ingenious than novel. The inventor, 
 whose constitution was too feeble to permit him to perform the 
 labour of rowing the Turtle, had taught his brother to manage it 
 with perfect dexterity ; but unfortunately his brother fell sick of 
 a fever just before the arrival of the fleet. Recourse was there 
 fore had to a sergeant in the Connecticut troops ; who, having re 
 ceived whatever instructions could be communicated to him in a 
 short time, went, too late in the night, with all the apparatus, 
 under the bottom of the Eagle, a sixty-four gun ship, on board of 
 which the British Admiral, Lord Howe, commanded. In coming 
 np, the screw that had been calculated to perforate the copper 
 sheathing, unluckily struck against some iron plates where the 
 rudder is connected with the stern. This accident, added to the 
 strength of the tide which prevailed, and the want of adequate 
 skill in the sergeant, occasioned such delay, that the dawn began 
 to appear, whereupon he abandoned the magazine to chance, and 
 after gaining a proper distance, for the sake of expedition, rowed 
 on the surface towards the town. General Putnam, who had 
 been on the wharf anxiously expecting the result, from the first 
 glimmering of light, beheld the machine near Governor's-Island, 
 and sent a whale-boat to bring it on shore. In about twenty mi 
 nutes afterwards the magazine exploded, and blew a vast column 
 of water to an amazing height in the air. As the whole business 
 had been kept an inviolable secret, l\e v,*as not a little diverted 
 with the various conjectures, whether this stupendous noise was 
 produced by a bomb, a meteor, a water-spout, or an earthquake. 
 
 Such feats did they perform that clay, 
 
 Upon those wicked kegs, Sir, 
 That years to come, if they get home, 
 
 They'll make their boasts and brags, Sir. 
 
 Mr. Bushnell, having been highly recommended for his talents by Pre 
 sident Stiles, General Parsons, and some other gentlemen of science, 
 was appointed a Captain in the corps of sappers and miners ; in which 
 capacity he continued to serve with that corps until the conclusion cf the 
 war.
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 303 
 
 Other operations of a most serious nature rapidly succeeded, and 
 prevented a repetition of the experiment. 
 
 On the twenty-second day of August, the van of the British, 
 landed on Long-Island, and was soon followed by the whole army, 
 except one brigade of Hessians, a small body of British, and 
 some convalescents, left on Staten-Island. Our troops on Long- 
 Island had been commanded during the summer by General 
 Greene, who was now sick; and General Putnam took the com 
 mand but two days before the battle of Flatbush. The instruc 
 tions to him, pointing in the first place to decisive expedients for 
 suppressing the scattering, unmeaning, and wasteful fire of our 
 men, contained regulations for the service of the guards, "the Bri 
 gadiers and the Field-officers of the day; for the appointment 
 and encouragement of proper scouts, as well as for keeping the 
 men constantly at their posts ; for preventing the burning of build 
 ings, except it should be necessary for military purposes, and for 
 preserving private property from pillage and destruction. To 
 these regulations were added, in a more diffuse, though not less 
 spirited and professional stile, reflections on the distinction of an 
 army from a mob; with exhortations for the soldiers to conduct 
 themselves manfully in such a cause, and for their Commander 
 to oppose the enemy's- approach with detachments of his best 
 troops ; while lie should endeavour to render their advance more 
 difficult by constructing abbatis, and to entrap their parties by 
 forming ambuscades. General Putnam was within the lines, 
 when an engagement took place on the 27th, between the British 
 army and our advanced corps, in which we lost about a thousand 
 men in killed and missing, with the General Sullivan and Lord 
 Stirling made prisoners. But our men, though attacked on all 
 sides, fought with great bravery ; and the enemy's loss was not 
 light. 
 
 The unfortunate battle of Long-Island, the masterly retreat from 
 thence, and the actual passage of part of the hostile fleet in the 
 East-River, above the town, precluded the evacuation of New- 
 York. A promotion of four Major-Generals, and six Brigadiers, 
 had previously been made by Congress. After the retreat from 
 Long-Island, the main army, consisting, for the moment, of sixty 
 battalions, of which twenty were Continental, the residue levies 
 and militia, was, conformably to the exigencies of the service, ra 
 ther than to the rules of war, formed into fourteen brigades. Ma 
 jor-General Putnam commanded the right grand division of five 
 brigades, the Majors-General Spencer and Greene the centre of 
 six brigades, and Major-General Heath the left, which was posted 
 near Kings-bridge, aud composed of t\vo brigades. The whole
 
 304 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 never amounted to twenty thousand effective men ; while the Bri 
 tish and German forces, under Sir William Howe, exceeded 
 twenty-two thousand : indeed, the minister had asserted in parlia 
 ment, that they would consist of more than thirty thousand. Our 
 two centre divisions, both commanded by General Spencer, in the 
 sickness of General Greene, moved towards Mount Washington, 
 Harlaem Heights, and Horn's Hook, as soon as the final resolution 
 was taken in a council of war, on the twelfth of September, to 
 abandon the city. That event, thus circumstanced, took effect a 
 few days after. 
 
 On Sunday, the fifteenth, the British, after sending three ships 
 of war up the North-River, to Bloomingdale, and keeping up, for 
 some hours, a severe cannonade on our lines, from those already 
 in the East-River, landed in force, at Turtle Bay. Our new levies, 
 commanded by a State Brigadier-General, fled without making re 
 sistance. Two brigades of General Putnam's division, ordered to 
 fheir support, notwithstanding the exertion of their Brigadiers, 
 and of the Commander in Chief himself, who came up at the in 
 stant, conducted themselves in the same shameful manner. His 
 Excellency then ordered the Heights of Harlaem, a strong posi 
 tion, to be occupied. Thither the forces in the vicinity, as well as 
 the fugitives, repaired. In the mean time General Putnam, with, 
 the remainder of his command, and the ordinary out-posts, was in 
 the city. After having caused the brigades to begin their retreat 
 by the route of Bloomingdale, in order to avoid the enemy, who 
 were then in the possession of the main road leading to Kings- 
 bridge, he gallopped to call off the pickets and guards. Having 
 myself been a volunteer in his division, and acting Adjutant to the 
 last regiment tha left the city, I had frequent opportunities, thati 
 day, of beholding him, for the purpose of issuing orders, and en 
 couraging the troops, flying, on his horse covered with foam, 
 wherever his presence was most necessary. Without his extra 
 ordinary exertions, the guards must have been inevitably lost, 
 and it is probable the entire corps would have been cut in pieces. 
 When we were not far from Bloomingdale, an Aid-de^camp came 
 from him at full speed, to inform that a column of British infantry 
 was descending upon our right. Our rear was soon fired upon, 
 and the Colonel of our regiment, whose order was just communi 
 cated for the front to file off to the left, was killed on the sport. 
 With no other loss we joined the army, after dark, on the Heights 
 of Harlaem. 
 
 Before our brigades came in, we were given up for lost by all 
 our friends. So critical indeed was our situation, and so narrow 
 the gap by which we escaped, that the instant we had passed the
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 50* 
 
 enemy closed it by extending their line from river to river. Our 
 men, who had been fifteen hours under arms, harassed by march 
 ing and countermarching, in consequence of incessant alarms, ex 
 hausted as they were by heat and thirst, (for the day proved in* 
 supportably ho", and few or none had canteens, insomuch, that 
 some died at the brooks where they drank) if attacked, could have 
 made but feeble resistance. 
 
 If we take into consideration the debilitating sickness which 
 weakened almost all our troops, the hard duty by which they were 
 worn down in constructing numberless defences, the continual 
 want of rest they had suffered since the enemy landed, in guard 
 ing from nocturnal surprise, the despondency infused into their 
 minds by an insular situation, and a consciousness of inferiority to 
 the enemy in discipline, together with the disadvantageous term 
 upon which, in their state of separation, they might have been 
 forced to engage ; it appears highly probable that day would 
 have presented an easy victory to the British. On the other 
 side, the American Commander in Chief had wisely counte 
 nanced an opinion, then universally credited, that our army was 
 three times more numerous than it was in reality. It is-not a sub 
 ject for astonishment, that the British, ignorant of the existing 
 circumstances, imposed upon as to the numbers by reports, and 
 recollecting what a few brave men, slightly entrenched, had per 
 formed at Bunker-Hill, should proceed with great circumspection. 
 For their reproaches, that the rebels, as they affected to style us, 
 loved digging better than fighting, and that they earthed them 
 elves in holes like foxes, but ill concealed at the bottom of their 
 own hearts the profound impression that action had made. Cheap 
 and contemptible as we had once seemed in their eyes, it had 
 taught them to hold us in some respect. This respect, in conjunc 
 tion with a fixed belief, that the enthusiastic spirit of our opposition 
 must soon subside, and that the inexhaustible resources of Britain 
 would ultimately triumph, without leaving anything to chance (not 
 the avarice or treachery of the British General, as the factious of 
 his own nation wished to insinuate), retarded their operation, and 
 afforded us leisure to rescue from annihilation the miserable re 
 lics of an army, hastening to dissolution by the expiration of en 
 listments, and the country itself from irretrievable subjugation. 
 
 IN TRUTH, WE ARE NOT LESS INDEBTED TO THE MATTOCK 
 AT ONE PERIOD, THAN TO THE MUSKET AT ANOTHER, FOR 
 
 OUR POLITICAL SALVATION. It required great talents to deter 
 mine when one or the other was most profitably to be employed. 
 I am aware how fashionable it has become to compare the Ame 
 rican Commander in Chief, for the prudence displayed in those 
 
 2R
 
 308 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 dilatory and defensive operations, so happily prosecuted in the 
 early stages of the war, to the illustrious Roman, who acquired 
 immortality hi restoring the Commonwealth 5y delay. Advanta 
 geous and flattering as the comparison at first appears, it will be 
 found, on examination, to stint the American Fabius to the smaller 
 moiety of his merited fame. Did HE not, in scenes of almost un 
 paralleled activity, discover specimens of transcendent abilities; 
 and might it not be proved, to professional men, that boldness in 
 council, and rapidity in execution, were, at least, equally with 
 prudent procrastination, and the quality of not being compelled 
 to action, attributes of his military genius ? This, however, was an 
 occasion, as apparent as pressing, for attaining his object by de 
 lay. From that he had every thing to gain, nothing to lose. Yet 
 there were not wanting politicians, AT THIS VERY TIME, who 
 querulously blamed these Fabian measures, and loudly clamoured 
 that the immense labour and expense bestowed on the fortification 
 of New-York, had been thrown away ; that if we could not face 
 the enemy there after so many preparations, we might as well re 
 linquish the contest at once, for we could no where- make a stand j 
 and that if General Washington, with an army of sixty thousand 
 men, strongly entrenched, declined fighting with Sir William 
 Howe, who had little more than one third of that number, it was 
 not to be expected he would find any other occasion that might in 
 duce him to engage. But General Washington, content to suffer 
 a temporary sacrifice of personal reputation, for the sake of secur 
 ing a permanent advantage to his country, and regardless of those 
 idle clamours for which he had furnished materials, by making 
 his countrymen, in order the more effectually to make his enemy 
 believe his force much greater than it actually was, inflexibly pur 
 sued his system, and gloriously demonstrated how poor and pitiful, 
 in the estimation of A GREAT MIND, are the censorious strictures 
 of those novices in war and politics, who, with equal rashness and 
 impudence, presume to decide dogmatically on the merit of plans, 
 they could neither originate or comprehend ! 
 
 That night our soldiers, excessively fatigued by the sultry march 
 of the day, their clothes wet by a severe shower of rain that suc 
 ceeded towards the evening, their blood chilled by the cold wind 
 that produced a sudden change in the temperature of the air, and 
 their hearts sunk within them by the loss of baggage, artillery, and 
 works in which they had been taught to put great confidence, lay 
 upon their arms, covered only by the clouds of an uncomfortable 
 sky. To retrieve our disordered affairs, and prevent the enemy 
 from profiting by them, no exertion was relaxed, no vigilance re 
 mitted on the part of our higher officers. The regiments which.
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. SOT 
 
 had been least exposed to fatigue that day, furnished the necessary 
 picquets to secure the army from surprise. Those whose mili 
 tary lives had been short and unpractised, felt enough besides las 
 situde of body to disquiet the tranquillity of their repose. Nor had 
 those who were older in service, and of more experience, any 
 subject for consolation. The warmth of enthusiasm seemed to be 
 extinguished. The force of discipline had not sufficiently occu 
 pied its place to give men a dependence upon each other. We 
 wei-e apparently about to reap the bitter fruits of that jealous po 
 licy, which some leading men, with the best motives, had sown 
 in our federal councils, when they caused the mode to be adopted, 
 for carrying on the war by detachments of militia, from appre- 
 hesion that an established Continental army, after defending the 
 country against foreign invasion, might subvert its liberties them 
 selves. Paradoxical as it will appear, it may be profitable to be 
 known to posterity, that while our very .existence as an inde 
 pendent people was in question, the patriotic jealousy for the safety 
 of our future freedom had been carried to such a virtuous but 
 dangerous excess, as well nigh to preclude the attainment of our 
 Independence. Happily that limited and hazardous system soon 
 gave room to one more enlightened and salutary. This may be 
 attributed to the reiterated arguments, the open remonstrances, 
 and the confidential communications of the Commander in Chief; 
 who, though not apt to despair of the Republic, on this occasion, 
 expressed himself in terms of unusual despondency. He declared, 
 in his letters, that he found, to his utter astonishment and mortifU 
 cation, that no reliance could be placed on a great proportion of 
 his present troops, and that, unless efficient measures for esta 
 blishing a permanent force should be speedily pursued, we had 
 every reason to fear the final ruin of our cause. 
 
 Next morning several parties of the enemy appeared upon the 
 plains in our front. On receiving this intelligence, General Wash 
 ington rode quickly to the out-posts, for the purpose of preparing 
 against an attack, if the enemy should advance with that design. 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Knowlton's rangers, a fine selection from the 
 eastern regiments, who had been skirmishing with an advanced 
 party, came in, and informed the General that a body of British 
 were under cover of a small eminence at no considerable distance. 
 His Excellency, willing to raise our men from their dejection by 
 the splendour of some little success, ordered Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Knowlton, with his rangers, and Major Leitch, with three compa 
 nies of Weedon's regiment of Virginians, to gain their rear; while 
 appearances should be made of an attack in front. As soon as the 
 enemy saw the party sent to decoy them, they ran precipitately
 
 308 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 down the hill, took possession of some fences and bushes, and com 
 menced a brisk firing at long shot. Unfortunately Knowlton and 
 Leitch made their onset rather in flank than in rear. The enemy 
 changed their front, and the skirmish at once became close and 
 warm. Major Leitch* having received three balls through his 
 side, was soon borne from the field ; and Colonel Knowlton, who 
 had distinguished himself so gallantly at the battle of Bunker- 
 Hill, was mortally wounded immediately after. Their men, how 
 ever, undaunted by these disasters, stimulated with the thirst of 
 revenge for the loss of their leaders, and, conscious of acting un 
 der the eye of the Commander in Chief, maintained the conflict 
 with uncommon spirit and perseverance. But the General, seeing 
 them in need of support, advanced part of the Maryland regi 
 ments of Griffith and Richardson, together with some detach 
 ments from such eastern corps as chanced to be most contiguous 
 to the place of action. Our troops this day, without exception, 
 behaved with the greatest intrepidity. So bravely did they re 
 pulse the British, that Sir William Howe moved his reserve, with 
 two field pieces, a battalion of Hessian grenadiers, and a com 
 pany of Chasseurs, to succour his retreating troops. General 
 Washington, not willing to draw on a general action, declined 
 pressing the pursuit. In this engagement were the second and 
 third battalions of light infantry, the forty-second British regi 
 ment, and the German Chasseurs, of whom eight officers, and up 
 wards of seventy privates were wounded, and our people buried 
 nearly twenty, who were left dead on the field. We had about 
 forty wounded : our loss in killed, except of two valuable officers, 
 Was very inconsiderable. 
 
 AH advantage,! so trivial in itself, produced, in event, a sur- 
 
 * Major Leitch, after languishing some days, died of a locked jaw. 
 ( A transcript from General Washington's Public Orders of the seven-- 
 teenth will, better than any other document that could be adduced, show 
 his sentiment on the conduct of the two preceding days, and how fer 
 vently he wished to foster the good dispositions discovered on the last. 
 
 " ORDERS. 
 
 " Head-quarters, Haerlem Heights, September 17, 1776. 
 " Parole, Leitch. Countersign, Virginia. 
 
 " The General most heartily thanks the troops commanded yesterday by 
 " Major Leitch, who first advanced upon the enemy, and the others who 
 " so resolutely supported them. The behaviour yesterday was such a 
 " contrast to that of some of the troops the day before, as must show 
 " what may be done where officers and soldiers will exert themselves. 
 " Once more, therefore, the General calls upon offices and men, to act
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. SOS 
 
 prising and almost incredible effect upon the whole army. Amongst 
 the troops not engaged, who, during the action, were throwing 
 earth from the new trenches, with an alacrity that indicated a de 
 termination to defend them, every visage was seen to brighten, 
 and to assume, instead of the gloom of despair, the glow of ani 
 mation. This change, no less sudden than happy, left little room 
 to doubt that the men, who ran the day before at the sight of an 
 enemy, would now, to wipe away the stain of that disgrace, and 
 to recover the confidence of their General, have conducted them 
 selves in a very different manner. Some alteration was made in 
 the distribution of corps to prevent the British from gaining either 
 flank in the succeeding night. General Putnam, who commanded 
 on the right, was directed in orders, in case the enemy should 
 attempt to force the pass, to apply for a reinforcement to Gene 
 ral Spencer, who commanded on the left. 
 
 General Putnam, who was too good an husbandman himself 
 not to have a respect for the labours and improvements of others, 
 strenuously seconded the views of the Commander in Chief in 
 preventing the devastation of farms, and the violation of private 
 property. For under pretext that the property in this quarter 
 belonged to friends to the British government, as indeed it mostly 
 did, a spirit of rapine and licentiousness began to prevail, which, 
 unless repressed in the beginning, foreboded, besides the subver 
 sion of discipline, the disgrace and defeat of our arms. 
 
 Our new defences now becoming so strong as not to admit in 
 sult with impunity, and Sir William Howe, not choosing to place 
 too much at risk in attacking us in front, on the 12th day of Octo 
 ber, leaving Lord Piercy with one Hessian and two British bri 
 gades, in his lines at Hae.rlem, to cover New -York, embarked with 
 the main body of his army, with an intention of landing at Frog's 
 Neck, situated near the town of West-Chester, and little more 
 than a league above the communication called King's-bridge, 
 which connects New-York Island with the main. There was no 
 thing to oppose him; and he effected his debarkation by nine 
 o'clock in the morning. The same policy of keeping our army 
 as compact as possible ; the same system of avoiding being forced 
 to action ; and the same precaution to prevent the interruption of 
 
 " up to the noble cause in which they are engaged, and to support the 
 " honour and liberties of their country. 
 
 " The gallant and brave Colonel Knowlton, who would have been an 
 " honour to any country, having fallen yesterday, while gloriously fight- 
 " ing, Captain Brown is to take the command of the party lately led by 
 " Colonel Kno\vlton. Officers and men are to obey him accordingly."
 
 310 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 supplies, reinforcements or retreat, that lately dictated the eva 
 cuation of New-York, now induced General Washington to move 
 towards the strong grounds in the upper part of West-Chester 
 county. 
 
 About the same time General Putnam was sent to the western 
 side of the Hudson, to provide against an irruption into the Jer 
 seys, and soon after to Philadelphia, to put that town into a pos 
 ture of defence. Thither I attend him, without stooping to 
 dilate on the subsequent incidents, that might swell a folio, though 
 here compressed to a single paragraph ; without attempting to 
 give in detail the skilful retrograde movements of our Com 
 mander in Chief, who, after detaching a garrison for Fort Wash 
 ington, by pre-occupying with extemporaneous redoubts and en 
 trenchments, the ridges from Mile-Square to White-Plains, and 
 by folding one brigade behind another, in rear of those ridges 
 that run parallel with the Sound) brought off all his artillery, 
 stores, and sick, in the face of a superior foe; without com 
 menting on the partial and equivocal battle fought near the last 
 mentioned village, or the cause why the British, then in full 
 force, (for the last of the Hessian infantry and British light- 
 horse had just arrived) did not more seriously endeavour to induce 
 a general engagement; without journalizing their military ma 
 noeuvres in falling back to King's-bridge, capturing Fort Wash 
 ington, Fort Lee, and marching through the Jerseys; without 
 enumerating the instances of rapine, murder, lust, and devasta 
 tion, that marked their progress, and filled our bosoms with 
 horror and indignation ; without describing how a division of our 
 dissolving army, with General Washington, was driven before 
 them beyond the Delaware ; without painting the naked and for 
 lorn condition of these much injured men, amidst the rigours of 
 an inclement season ; and without even sketching the consternation 
 that seized the States at this perilous period, when General Lee, 
 in leading from the north a small reinforcement to our troops, 
 was himself taken prisoner by surprise; when every thing seemed 
 decidedly declining to the last extremity, and when every prospect 
 but served to augment the depression of despair until the genius 
 of one man, in one day, at a single stroke, wrested from the ve 
 teran battalions of Britain and Germany the fruits acquired by 
 the total operations of a successful campaign, and re-animated 
 the expiring hope of a whole nation, by the glorious enterprize 
 at Trenton. 
 
 While the hostile forces, rashly inflated with pride by a series 
 of uninterrupted successes, and fondly dreaming that a period 
 would soon be put to their labours, by the completion of their con
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 311 
 
 quests, had been pursuing the wretched remnants of a disbanded 
 army to the banks of the Delaware, General Putnam was dili 
 gently employed in fortifying Philadelphia, the capture of which 
 appeared indubitably to be their principal object. Here, by au 
 thority and example, he strove to conciliate contending factions, 
 and to excite the citizens to uncommon efforts in defence of every 
 thing interesting to freemen. His personal industry was unpa 
 ralleled. His orders,* with respect to extinguishing accidental 
 fires, advancing the public works, as well as in regard to other 
 important objects, were perfectly military and proper. But hi* 
 health was, for a while, impaired by his unrelaxed exertions. 
 
 The Commander in Chief having, in spite of all obstacles, 
 made good his retreat over the Delaware, wrote to General Put 
 nam from his Camp above the Falls of Trenton, on the very 
 day he re-crossed the river to surprise the Hessians, expressing 
 his satisfaction at the re-establishment of that General's health, 
 and informing, that if he had not himself been well convinced 
 before of the enemy's intention to possess themselves of Philadel 
 phia, as soon as the frost should form ice strong enough to trans 
 port them and their artillery across the Delaware, he had now 
 obtained an intercepted letter which placed the matter beyond a 
 doubt. He added, that if the citizens of Philadelphia had any 
 regard for the town, not a moment's time was to be lost until 
 it should be put in the best possible posture of defence ; but least 
 that should not be done, he directed the removal of all public 
 stores, except provisions necessary for immediate use, to place* 
 of greater security. He queried whether, if a party of militia 
 could be sent from Philadelphia to support those in the Jerseys, 
 
 * As a specimen, the following is preserved : 
 
 " GENERAL ORDERS. 
 " Head-quarters, Philadelphia, December 14, 1776. 
 
 " Colonel Griffin is appointed Adjutant-General to the troops in and 
 " about this city. All orders from the General, through him, either 
 " written or verbal, are to be strictly attended to and punctually obeyed. 
 
 " In case of an alarm of fire, the city guards and patroles are to suffer 
 " the inhabitants to pass, unmolested, at any hour of the night ; and the 
 " good people of Philadelphia are earnestly requested and desired to give 
 " every assistance in their power, with engines and buckets, to extin- 
 " girsh the fire. And as the Congress have ordered the city to be de- 
 " fended to the last extremity, the General hopes that no person will 
 " refuse to give every assistance possible to complete the fortifications that 
 " are to be erected in and about the city. 
 
 " ISRAEL PUTNAM."
 
 312 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 about Mount-Holly, it would not serve to save them from submis 
 sion ? At the same time he signified, as his opinion, the expe 
 diency of sending an active and influential officer to inspirit the 
 people, to encourage them to assemble in arms, as well as to keep 
 those already in arms from disbanding; and concluded by mani 
 festing a wish that Colonel Forman, whom he desired to see for 
 this purpose, might be employed on the service. 
 
 The enemy had vainly, as incautiously, imagined that to over 
 run was to conquer. They had even carried their presumption on 
 our extreme weakness, and expected submission so far as to at 
 tempt covering the country through which they had marched 
 with an extensive chain of cantonments. That link, which the 
 post at Trenton supplied, consisted of a Hessian brigade of in 
 fantry, a company of Chasseurs, a squadron of light dragoons, and 
 six field pieces. At eight o'clock in the morning of the twenty- 
 sixth of December, General Washington, with twenty-four hun 
 dred men, came upon them, after they had paraded, took one 
 thousand prisoners, and re-passed the same day, without loss, to his 
 encampment. As soon as the troops were recovered from their 
 excessive fatigue, General Washington re-crossed a second time 
 to Trenton. On the second of January, Lord Cornwallis, with the 
 bulk of the British army, advanced upon him, cannonaded his post, 
 and offered him battle : but the two armies being separated by the 
 interposition of Trenton Creek, General Washington had it in his 
 option to decline an engagement, which he did for the sake of 
 striking the masterly stroke that he then meditated. Having kind 
 led frequent fires around his camp, posted faithful men to keep them 
 burning, and advanced sentinels, whose fidelity might be relied 
 upon, he decamped silently after dark, and, by a circuitous route, 
 reached Princeton at nine o'clock the next morning. The noise 
 of the firing, by which he killed and captured between five and 
 six hundred of the British brigade in that town, was the first no 
 tice Lord Cornwallis had of this stolen march. General Wash 
 ington, the project successfully accomplished, instantly filed off 
 for the mountainous grounds of Morris-Town. Meanwhile, his 
 Lordship, who arrived, by a forced march, at Princeton, just as he 
 had left it, finding the Americans could not be overtaken, pro 
 ceeded, without halting, to Brunswick. 
 
 On the fifth of January, 1777, from Pluckemin, General Wash 
 ington dispatched an account of this second success to General 
 Putnam, and ordered him to move immediately, with all his troops, 
 to Crosswick's, for the purpose of co-operating in recovering the 
 Jerseys ; an event which the present fortunate juncture, while the 
 enemy were yet panic-struck, appeared to promise. The General
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. SIS 
 
 cautioned him, however, if the enemy should still continue at 
 Brunswick, to guard with great circumspection against a surprise ; 
 especially as they, having recently suffered by two attacks, could 
 scarcely avoid being edged with resentment to attempt retalia 
 tion. His Excellency farther advised him to give out his strength 
 to be twice as grettt as it was ; to forward on all the baggage and 
 scattering men belonging to the division destined for Morris-Town; 
 to employ as many spies as he should think proper ; to keep a 
 number of horsemen, in the dress of the country, going constantly 
 backwards and forwards on the same secret service ; and, lastly, 
 if he should discover any intention or motion of the enemy that 
 could be depended upon, and might be of consequence, not to fail 
 in conveying the intelligence, as rapidly as possible by express, to 
 Head-Quarters. Major-General Putnam was directed soon after 
 to take post at Princeton, where he continued until the spring. 
 He had never with him more than a few hundred troops, though he 
 was only at fifteen miles distance from the enemy's strong garrison 
 of Brunswick. At one period, from a sudden diminution, occa 
 sioned by the tardiness of the militia turning out to replace those 
 whose time of service was expired, he had fewer men for duty 
 than he had miles of frontier to guard. Nor was the Commander 
 in Chief in a more eligible situation. It is true, that while he had 
 scarcely the semblance of an army, under the specious parade of 
 a park of artillery, and the imposing appearance of his Head- 
 Quarters, established at Morris-Town, he kept up, in the eyes of 
 his countryir 3n, as well as in the opinion of his enemy, the ap 
 pearance of no contemptible force. Future generations will find 
 difficulty in conceiving how a handful of new-levied men and mi 
 litia, who wei^ necessitated to be inoculated for the small-pox 
 in the course of the winter, could be subdivided and posted so ad 
 vantageously, as effectually to protect the inhabitants, confine the 
 enemy, curtail their forage, and beat up their quarters, without 
 sustaining a single disaster. 
 
 In the battle of Princeton, Captain M'Pherson, of the 17th 
 British regiment, a very worthy Scotchman, was desperately 
 wounded in the lungs, and left with the dead. Upon General Put 
 nam':; arrival there, he found him languishing in extreme distress, 
 without a surgeon, without a single accommodation, and without 
 a friend to solace the sinking spirit in the gloomy hour of death. 
 He visited, and immediately caused every possible comfort to be 
 administered to him. Captain M'Pherson, who, contrary to all 
 appearances, recovered, after having demonstrated to General 
 Putnam the dignified tense of obligations which a generous mind 
 wishes not to conceal, one day, in familiar conversation, demanded, 
 
 28
 
 3H LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 " Pray, Sir, what countryman are you?" " An American," 
 answered the latter. " Not a Yankee ?" said the other. " A full- 
 " blooded one," replied the General. " By G d, I am sorry for 
 " that," rejoined M'Pherson, " I did not think there could be so 
 " much goodness and generosity in an American, or, indeed, in 
 " any body but a Scotchman." 
 
 While the recovery of Captain M'Pherson was doubtful, he de 
 sired that General Putnam would permit a friend in the British 
 army at Brunswick to come and assist him in making HIS WILL. 
 General Putnam, who had then only fifty men in his whole com 
 mand, was sadly embarrassed by the proposition. On the one 
 hand, he was not content that a British officer should have an op 
 portunity to spy out the weakness of his post ; on the other, it was 
 scarcely in his nature to refuse complying with a dictate of huma 
 nity. He luckily bethought himself of an expedient which he has 
 tened to put in practice. A flag of truce was dispatched with 
 Captain M'Pherson's request, but under an injunction not to re 
 turn with his friend until after dark. In the evening lights were 
 placed in all the rooms of the College, and in every apartment of 
 the vacant houses throughout the town. During the whole night, 
 the fifty men, sometimes altogether, and sometimes in small de 
 tachments, were inarched from different quarters by the house in 
 which M'Pherson lay. Afterwards it was known that the officer 
 who came on the visit, at his return, reported that General Put 
 nam's army, upon the most moderate calculation, could not con 
 sist of less than four or five thousand men. 
 
 This winter's campaign, for our troops constantly kept the field 
 after regaining a footing in the Jerseys, has never yet been faithfully 
 and feelingly described. The sudden restoration of our cause from 
 the very verge of ruin was interwoven with such a tissue of inscru 
 table causes and extraordinary events, that, fearful of doing the 
 subject greater injustice, by a passing disquisition than a purposed 
 silence, I leave it to the leisure of abler pens. The ill policy of 
 the British doubtless contributed to accelerate this event. For the 
 manner, impolitic as inhuman, in which they managed their tem 
 porary conquests, tended evidently to alienate the affections of their 
 adherents, to confirm the wavering in an opposite interest, to rouse 
 the supine into activity, to assemble the dispersed to the standard 
 of America, and to infuse a spirit of revolt into the minds of those 
 men who had, from necessity, submitted to. their power. Their 
 conduct in warring with fire and sword against the imbecility of 
 youth, and the decrepitude of age ; against the arts, the sciences, 
 the curious inventions, and the elegant improvements in civilized 
 life; against the melancholy widow, the miserable orphan, the
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 311 
 
 peaceable professor of humane literature, and the sacred minis 
 ter of the gospel, seemed to operate as powerfully, as if purposely 
 intended to kindle the dormant spark of resistance into an inex 
 tinguishable flame. If we add to the black catalogue of provo 
 cations already enumerated, their insatiable rapacity in plunder 
 ing friends and foes indiscriminately ; their libidinous brutality in 
 violating the chastity of the female sex ; their more than Gothic 
 rage in defacing private writings, public records, libraries of learn 
 ing, dwellings of individuals, edifices for education, and temples of 
 the Deity ; together with their insufferable ferocity, unprecedented 
 indeed among civilized nations, in murdering on the field of battle 
 the wounded while begging for mercy, in causing their prisoners 
 to famish with hunger and cold in prisons and prison ships, and in 
 carrying their malice beyond death itself, by denying the decent 
 rites of sepulture to the dead ; we shall not be astonished that the 
 yeomanry in the two Jerseys, when the first glimmering of hope 
 began to break in upon them, rose as one man, with the unalter 
 able resolution to perish in the generous cause, or expel their mer 
 ciless invaders. 
 
 The principal officers, stationed at a variety of well-chosen, 
 and at some almost inaccessible positions, seemed all to be actu 
 ated by the same soul, and only to vie with each other in giving 
 proofs of vigilance, enterprise and valour. From what has been 
 said respecting the scantiness of our aggregate force, it will be 
 concluded, that the number of men, under the orders of each, 
 was indeed very small. But the uncommon alertness of the 
 troops, who were incessantly hovering round the enemy in scouts, 
 and the constant communication they kept between the several 
 stations most contiguous to each other, agreeably to the instruc 
 tions* of the General in Chief, together with their readiness in 
 
 * The annexed private orders to Lord Stirling will show, in a laconic 
 and military manner, the system of service then pursued : 
 
 " To Brigadier-General Lord STIRLING. 
 
 " MY LORD, 
 
 " You are to repair to Baskenridge, and take upon you the command 
 " of the troops now there, and such as may be sent to your care. 
 
 " You are to endeavour, as much as possible, to harass and annoy the 
 " enemy, by keeping scouting parties constantly, or as frequently as pos- 
 " sible, around their quarters. 
 
 " As you will be in the neighbourhood of Generals Dickenson and 
 " Warner, I recommend it to you to keep up a correspondence with them,
 
 816 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM* 
 
 giving, and confidence of receiving such reciprocal aid as the 
 exigencies might require, served to supply the defect of force. 
 
 This manner of doing duty not only put our own posts beyond 
 the reach of sudden insult and surprise, but so exceedingly ha- 
 rassed and intimidated the enemy, that foragers were seldom 
 sent out by them, and never except in very large parties. Gene- 
 ral Dickenson, who commanded on General Putnam's left, disco 
 vered, about the 20th of January, a foraging party, consisting of 
 about four hundred men, on the opposite side of the Mill-Stone, 
 two miles from Somerset court-house. As the bridge was pos 
 sessed and defended by three field-pieces, so that it could not be 
 passed, General Dickenson, at the head of four hundred militia, 
 broke the ice, crossed the river where the water was about three 
 feet deep, resolutely attacked, and totally defeated the foragers. 
 Upon their abandoning the convoy, a few prisoners, forty wag 
 gons, and more than a hundred draft-horses, with a considerable 
 booty of cattle and sheep, fell into his hands. 
 
 Nor were our operations on General Putnam's right flank less 
 fortunate. To give countenance to the numerous friends of the 
 British government in the county of Monmouth appears to have 
 been a principal motive with Sir William Howe for stretching 
 the chain of his cantonments, by his own confession,* previously to 
 
 " and endeavour to regulate your parties by theirs, so as to have some 
 " constantly out. 
 
 " Use every means in your power to obtain intelligence from the 
 " enemy; which may possibly be better effected by engaging some of 
 " those people who have obtained Protections to go in, under pretence of 
 " asking advice, than by any other means. 
 
 " You will also use every means in your power to obtain and conimu- 
 " nicate the earliest accounts of the enemy's movements; and to assemble, 
 " in the speediest manner possible, your troops either for offence or de- 
 " fence. 
 
 " Given at If ead -Quarters, the fourth day (f February, 1777. 
 
 " GEO. WASHINGTON." 
 
 * Extract of a letter from General Sir WILLIAM HOWE to Lord GEORGE 
 GERMAINE, dated New-Tori; December 20, 1776. 
 
 Having mentioned the fruitless attempt of Lord Cormvallis to find 
 boats at Gorryel's ferry to pass the Delaware he proceeds thus : 
 
 " The passage of the Delaware being thus rendered impracticable, his 
 " Lordship took post at Pennington, in which place and Trenton the two 
 " divisions remained until the fourteenth, when the weather having be- 
 " come too severe to keep the field, and the winter cantonments being 
 * f arranged, the troops marched from both places to their respective sta-
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 31f 
 
 his disaster, rather too far. After that chain became broken, as 
 I have already related, by the blows at Trenton and Princeton, 
 he was obliged to collect, during the rest of the winter, the use 
 less remains in his barracks at Brunswick. In the meantime, 
 General Putnam was much more successful in his attempt to pro 
 tect our dispersed and dispirited friends in the same district; 
 who, environed on every side by envenomed adversaries, remained 
 inseparably rivetted in affection to American independence. He 
 first detached Colonel Gurney, and afterwards Major Davis,* 
 with such parties of militia as could be spared, for their support. 
 Several skirmishes ensued, in which our people had always the 
 advantage. They took, at different times, many prisoners, horses 
 and waggons from foraging parties. In effect, so well did they 
 cover the country, as to induce some of the most respectable in 
 habitants to declare, that the security of the persons, as well as 
 the salvation of the property of many friends to freedom, was 
 owing to the spirited exertions of these two detachments ; who, 
 at the same time that they rescued the country from the tyranny 
 of tories, afforded an opportunity for the militia to recover from 
 their consternation, to embody themselves in warlike array, and 
 to stand on their defence. 
 
 During this period, General Putnam having received unques- 
 
 " tions. The chain, I own, is rather too extensive, but I was induced to 
 " occupy Burlington to cover the county of Monmouth, in which there 
 " are many loyal inhabitants; and trusting to the almost general submis- 
 " sion of the country to the southward of this chain, and to the strength 
 " of the corps placed in the advanced posts, I conclude the troops will 
 " be in perfect security." 
 
 * As there happened to be in my possession a copy of one of his letters 
 to those officers, it was thought worthy of insertion here, in order ta 
 demonstrate his satisfaction with their conduct. 
 
 " To Major JOHN DAVIS, of the third Battalion of Cumberland 
 
 " County Militia. 
 " SIR, 
 
 " I am much obliged to you for your activity, vigour, and diligence 
 " since you have been under my command ; you will, therefore, march 
 ' your men to Philadelphia, and there discharge them ; returning into 
 " the store all the ammunition, arms and accoutrements you received 
 " at that place. 
 
 " I am, Sir, your humble servant, 
 
 " ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 " Princeton, February 5, 1777."
 
 S18 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 tionable intelligence that a party of refugees, in British pay\ 
 had taken post, and were erecting a kind of redoubt at Lawrence's 
 Neck, sent Colonel Nelson, with one hundred and fifty militia, to 
 surprise them. That officer conducted with so much secrecy and 
 decision as to take the whole prisoners* These refugees* were 
 commanded by Major Stockton, belonging to Skinner's brigade, 
 and amounted to sixty in number. 
 
 A short time after this event Lord Cornwallis sent out another 
 foraging party towards Bound-Brook. General Putnam, having 
 received notice from his emissaries, detached Major Smith, with 
 a few riflemen, to annoy the party, and followed himself with the 
 rest of his force. Before he could come up, Major Smith, who 
 had formed an ambush, attacked the enemy, killed several horses, 
 took a few prisoners and sixteen baggage-waggons, without sus 
 taining any injury. By such operations, our hero, in the course 
 of the winter, captured nearly a thousand prisoners. 
 
 In the latter part of February General Washington advised 
 General Putnam, that, in consequence of a large accession of 
 strength from New-York to the British army at Brunswick, it was 
 to be apprehended they would soon make a forward movement 
 towards the Delaware : in which case the latter was directed to 
 cross the river with his actual force, to assume the command of 
 the militia who might assemble, to secure the boats on the west 
 side of the Delaware, and to facilitate the passage of the rest of 
 the army. But the enemy did not remove from their winter-quar 
 ters until the season arrived when green forage could be supplied. 
 In the intermediate period, the correspondence on the part of 
 General Putnam with the Commander in Chief consisted princi 
 pally of reports and inquiries concerning the treatment of some 
 of the following descriptions of persons : either of those who came 
 within our lines with flags and pretended flags, or who had taken 
 protection from the enemy, or who had been reputed disaffected 
 to our cause, or who were designed to be comprehended in the 
 American Proclamation, which required that those who had taken 
 protections should give them to the nearest American officer, or 
 
 * Extract of a letter from General PUTNAM to the Council of Safety of 
 
 Pennsylvania, dated at Princeton, February 18, 1777. 
 " Yesterday evening Colonel Nelson, with a hundred and fifty men, 
 ," at Lawrence's Neck, attacked sixty men of Cortlandt Skinner's Bri- 
 " gade, commanded by the enemy's RENOWSTED LAND PILOT Major 
 " Richard Stockton, routed them, and took the whole prisoners among 
 " them the Major, a Captain and three subalterns, with seventy stand of 
 " arms. Fifty of the Bedford Pennsylvania Riflemen bebated lite veterans.'"
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 319 
 
 go within the British lines. The letters of his Excellency in re 
 turn, generally advisory, were indicative of confidence and ap 
 probation. 
 
 When the spring had now so far advanced that it was obvious 
 the enemy would soon take the field, the Commander in Chief, 
 after desiring General Putnam to .give the officer who was to re 
 lieve him at Princeton, all the information necessary for the con 
 duct of that post, appointed that General to the command of a 
 separate army in the Highlands of New-York. 
 
 It is scarcely decided, from any documents yet published, whe 
 ther the preposterous plans prosecuted by the British Generals in 
 the campaign of 1777, were altogether the result of their orders 
 from home, or whether they partially originated from the contin 
 gencies of the moment. The system which, at the time, tended 
 to puzzle all human conjecture, when developed, served also to 
 contradict all reasonable calculation. Certain it is, the American 
 Commander in Chief was, for a considerable time, so perplexed 
 with contradictory appearances, that he knew not how to distri 
 bute his troops, with his usual discernment, so as to oppose the 
 enemy with equal prospect of success in different parts. The ga 
 thering tempests menaced the northern frontiers, the posts in the 
 Highlands, and the city of Philadelphia ; but it was still doubtful 
 where the fury of the storm would fall. Atone time Sir William 
 Howe was forcing his way by land to Philadelphia; at another, 
 relinquishing the Jerseys ; at a third, facing round to make a sud 
 den inroad; then embarking with all the forces that could be 
 spared from New-York ; and then putting cut to sea, at the very 
 moment when General Burgoyne had reduced Ticonderoga, and 
 seemed to require a co-operation in another quarter. 
 
 On our side, we have seen that the old Continental army ex 
 pired with the year 1776 ; since which, invention had been tor 
 tured with expedients, and zeal with efforts to levy another : for 
 on the success of the recruiting service depended the salvation of 
 the country. The success was such as not to puff us up to pre 
 sumption, or depress us to despair. The army in the Jerseys, un 
 der the orders of the General in Chief, consisted of all the troops 
 raised south of the Hudson ; that in the northern department, of 
 the New-Hampshire brigade, two brigades of Massachusetts, 
 and the brigade of New- York, together with some irregular corps; 
 and that in the Highlands, of the remaining two brigades of Mas 
 sachusetts, the Connecticut line, consisting of two brigades, the 
 brigade of Rhode-Island, and one regiment of New-York. Upon 
 hearing of the loss of Ticonderoga, and the progress of the British 
 towards Albany, General Washington ordered Uxe northern army
 
 S20 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 to be reinforced with the two brigades of Massachusetts, then in 
 the Highlands; and, upon finding the army under his immediate 
 command out-numbered by that of Sir William Howe, which had, 
 by the circuitous route of the Chesapeak, invaded Pennsylvania, 
 he also called from the Highlands one of the Connecticut brigades, 
 and that of Rhode-Island, to his own assistance. 
 
 In the neighbourhood of General Putnam there was no enemy 
 capable of exciting alarms. The army left at New-York seemed 
 only designed for its defence. In it were several entire corps, 
 composed of tories, who had flocked to the British standard. 
 There was, besides, a band of lurking miscreants, not properly 
 enrolled, who staid chiefly at West-Chester ; from whence they 
 infested the country between the two armies, pillaged the cattle, 
 and carried off the peaceable inhabitants. It was an unworthy po 
 licy in British generals to patronize banditti. The whig inhabit 
 ants on the edge of our lines, and still lower down, who had been 
 plundered in a merciless manner, delayed not to strip the tories 
 in return. People most nearly connected and allied frequently 
 became most exasperated and inveterate in malice. Then the ties 
 of fellowship were broken then friendship itself being soured to 
 enmity, the mind readily gave way to private revenge, uncon- 
 trouled retaliation, and all the deforming passions that disgrace 
 humanity. Enormities, almost without a name, were perpetrated, 
 at the description of which, the bosom, not frozen to apathy, must 
 glow with a mixture of pity and indignation. To prevent the pre 
 datory incursions from below, and to cover the county of West- 
 Chester, General Putnam detached from his Head-Quarters, at 
 Peek's-Kill, Meigs's regiment, which, in the course of the cam 
 paign, struck several partizan strokes, and achieved the objects 
 for which it was sent. He likewise took measures, without noise 
 or ostentation, to secure himself from being surprised and carried 
 within the British lines by the tories, who had formed a plan for 
 the purpose. The information of this intended enterprise, con 
 veyed to him through several channels, was corroborated by that 
 obtained and transmitted by the Commander in Chief. 
 
 It was not wonderful, that many of these tories were able, 
 undiscovered, to penetrate far into the country, and even to go 
 with letters or messages from one British army to another. The 
 inhabitants who were well affected to the royal cause, afforded them 
 every possible support, and their own knowledge of the different 
 routes gave them a farther felicity in performing their peregri 
 nations. Sometimes the most active loyalists, as the tories 
 wished to denominate themselves, who had gone into the British 
 posts, and received promises of commissions upon enlisting a cer-
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 321 
 
 tain number of soldiers, came back again secretly with recruiting 
 instructions. Sometimes these, and others who came from the 
 enemy within the verge of our camps, were detected and con 
 demned to death, in conformity to the usages of war. But the Bri 
 tish generals- who had an unlimited supply of money at their com 
 mand, were able to pay with so much liberality, that emissaries 
 could always be found. Still, it is thought that the intelligence of 
 the American Commanders was, at least, equally accurate ; not 
 withstanding the poverty of their military chest, and the inability 
 of rewarding mercenary agents, for secret services, in proportion 
 to their ri.;k and merit. 
 
 A person, by the name of Palmer, who was a lieutenant in the 
 tory new levies, was detected in the camp at Peek's-Kill. Go 
 vernor Tryon, who commanded the new levies, reclaimed him as 
 a British officer, represented the heinous crime of condemning a 
 man commissioned by his Majesty, and threatened vengeance 
 in case he should be executed. General Putnam wrote the fol 
 lowing pithy reply* 
 "Sin, 
 
 " Nathan Palmer, a lieutenant in your King's service, was taken 
 " in my camp as a Spy he was tried as a Spy he was con- 
 11 demned as a Sfiy* and you may rest assured, Sir, he shall be 
 " hanged as a Spy. 
 
 u I have the honour to be, &c. 
 
 " ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 " His Excellency Governor TRTON. 
 
 " P. S. Afternoon. He is hanged." 
 
 Important transactions soon occurred. Not long after the two 
 brigades had marched from Peek's-Kill to Pennsylvania, a rein 
 forcement arrived at New-York from Europe. Appearances in 
 dicated that offensive operations would follow. General Putnam 
 having been 1'educed in force to a single brigade in the field, and 
 a single regiment in garrison at Fort Montgomery, repeatedly in 
 formed the Commander in Chief, that the posts committed to his 
 charge must, in all probability, be lost, in case an attempt should 
 be made upon them ; and that, circumstanced as he was, he could 
 not be responsible for the consequences. His situation was cer 
 tainly to be lamented ; but it was not in the power of the Com 
 mander in Chief to alter it, except by authorising him to call upon 
 the militia for aid an aid always precarious, and often so tardy, 
 as, when obtained, to be of no utility. 
 
 On the fifth of October Sir Henry Clinton came up the North- 
 River with three thousand men. After making many feints to 
 
 2T
 
 322 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM, 
 
 mislead the attention, he landed, the next morning, at Stony-Point 7 
 and commenced his march over the mountains to Fort Montgo 
 mery. Governor Clinton, an active, resolute, and intelligent of 
 ficer, who commanded the garrison, upon being apprised of the 
 movement, dispatched a letter, by express, to General Putnam for 
 succour. By the treachery of the messenger, the letter miscarried. 
 General Putnam, astonished at hearing nothing respecting the 
 enemy, rode, with General Parsons, and Colonel Root, his Adju 
 tant-General, to reconnoitre them at King's Ferry. In the mean 
 time, at five o'clock in the afternoon, Sir Henry Clinton's co 
 lumns, having surmounted the obstacles and barriers of nature, de 
 scended from the Thunder-Hill, through thickets impassible but 
 for light troops, and * attacked the different redoubts. The gar 
 rison, inspired by the conduct of their leaders, defended the works 
 with distinguished valour. But, as the post had been designed 
 principally to prevent the passing of ships, and as an assault in 
 rear had not been expected, the works on the land side were in 
 complete and untenable. In the dusk of twilight, the British en 
 tered with their bayonets fixed. Their loss was inconsiderable. 
 Nor was that of the garrison great. Governor Clinton, his bro- 
 
 * The author of these Memoirs, then Major of Brigade to the first 
 Connecticut brigade, was alone at Head-Quarters when the firing began. 
 He hastened to Colonel Wyllys, the senior officer in camp, and advised 
 him to dispatch all the men not on duty to Fort Montgomery, without 
 waiting for orders. About five hundred men marched instantly under Co 
 lonel Meigs ; and the author, with Dr. Beardsley, a surgeon in the bri 
 gade, rode, at full speed, through a bye -path, to let the garrison know, 
 that a reinforcement was on its march. Notwithstanding all the haste 
 these officers made to and over the river, the fort was so completely in 
 vested on their arrival, that it was impossible to enter. They wnt on 
 board the new frigate which lay near the fortress, and had the misfor 
 tune to be idle, though not unconcerned spectators of the storm. They 
 saw the minutest actions distinctly when the works were carried. The 
 frigate, after receiving several platoons, slipped her cable, and proceeded 
 a little way up the river; but the wind and : tide becoming adverse, the 
 crew set her on fire, to prevent her falling into the hands of the enemy, 
 whose ships were approaching. The louring darkness of the night, the 
 profound stillness that reigned, the interrupted flashes of the flames that 
 illuminated the waters, the long shadows of the cliffs that now and then 
 were seen, the explosion of the cannon which were left loaded in the 
 ship, and the reverberating echo which resounded, at intervals, between 
 the stupendous mountains on both sides of the river, composed an awful 
 night-piece for persons prepared by the preceding scene, to contemplate, 
 subjects of horrid sublimity.
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 323 
 
 ther General James Clinton, Colonel Dubois, and most of the of 
 ficers and men effected their escape under cover of the thick 
 smoke and darkness that suddenly prevailed. The capture of this 
 fort by Sir Henry Clinton, together with the consequent removal 
 of the chains and booms that obstructed the navigation, opened a 
 passage to Albany, and seemed to favour a junction of his force 
 with that of General Burgoyne. But the latter having been com 
 pelled to capitulate a few days after this event, and great num 
 bers of militia having arrived from New-England, the successful 
 army returned to New-York ; yet not before a detachment from 
 it, under the orders of General Vaughan, had burnt the defence 
 less town of Esopus, and several scattering buildings on the banks 
 of the river. 
 
 Notwithstanding the army in the Highlands had been so much 
 weakened, for the sake of strengthening the armies in other quar 
 ters, as to have occasioned the loss of Fort Montgomery, yet that 
 loss was productive of no consequences. Our main army in Penn 
 sylvania, after having contended with superior force in two inde 
 cisive battles, still held the enemy in check ; while the splendid 
 success which attended our arms at the northward, gave a more 
 favourable aspect to .the American affairs, at the close of this 
 campaign, than they had ever before assumed. 
 
 When the enemy fell back to New-York by water, we followed 
 them a part of the way by land. Colonel Meigs, with a detach 
 ment from the several regiments in General Parsons's brigade, 
 having made a forced march from Crompond to West-Chester, 
 surprised and broke up for a time the band of freebooters, of 
 whom he brought off fifty, together with many cattle and horses 
 which they had recently stolen. 
 
 Soon after this enterprise General Putnam advanced towards 
 the British lines. As he had received intelligence that small 
 bodies of the enemy were out, with orders from Governor Tryon 
 to burn Wright's mills, he prevented it by detaching three par 
 ties, of one hundred men in each. One of these parties fell in 
 with and captured thirty-five, and another forty of the new levies. 
 But as he could not prevent a third hostile party from burning the 
 house of Mr. Van Tassel, a noted whig and a committee-man, 
 who was forced to go along with them, naked and barefoot, on 
 the icy ground, in a freezing night, he, for the professed purpose 
 of retaliation, sent Captain Buchanan, in a whale-boat, to burn 
 the house of General Oliver Delancey on York Island. Buchanan 
 effected his object, and by this expedition put a period, for the 
 present, to that unmeaning and wanton species of destruction. 
 While General Putnam quartered at New-Rochel, a scouting
 
 324 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 party, which had been sent to West-Farms, below West-Chestei>, 
 surrounded the house in which Colonel James Delancey lodged, 
 and, notwithstanding he crept under the bed the better to be con 
 cealed, brought him to Head-Quarters before morning. This 
 officer was exchanged by the British General without de"lay, and 
 placed at the head of the cow-boys, a licentious corps of irregu 
 lars, who, in the sequel, committed unheard-of depredations and 
 excesses. 
 
 It was distressing to see so beautiful a part of the country so 
 barbarously wasted, and often to witness some peculiar scene of 
 female misery : for most of the female inhabitants had been 
 obliged to fly within the lines possessed by one army cr the other. 
 Near our quarters was an affecting instance of human vicissi 
 tude. Mr. William Sutton, of Maroneck, an inoffensive man, a 
 merchant by profession, who lived in a decent fashion, and whose 
 family had as happy prospects as almost any in the country, upon 
 some imputation of toryism, went to the enemy. His wife, op 
 pressed with grief in the disagreeable state of dereliction, did not 
 long survive. Betsey Sutton, their eldest daughter, was a modest 
 and lovely young woman, of about fifteen years old, when, at the 
 death of her mother, the care of five or six younger children de 
 volved upon her. She was discreet and provident beyond her 
 years ; but when AVC saw her, she looked to be feeble in health 
 broken in spirit wan, melancholy, and dejected. She said ' that 
 " their last cow, which furnished milk for the children, had lately 
 " been taken away that they had frequently been plundered of 
 *' their wearing apparel and furniture, she believed by both par- 
 " ties that they hud little more to lose- and that she knew not 
 *' where to procure bread for the dear little ones, who had no 
 ^ father to provide for them" no mother she was going to have 
 said but a torrent of tears choaked articulation. In coming to 
 that part of the country again, after some campaigns had elapsed, 
 I found the habitation desolate, and the garden overgrown with 
 weeds. Upon inquiry, I learnt, that as soon as we left the place, 
 some ruffians broke into the house while she lay in bed, in the 
 latter part of the night; and that, having been terrified by their 
 rudeness, she ran, half-naked, into a neighbouring swamp, where 
 she continued until "the morning there the poor girl caught a 
 violent cold, Avhich ended in a consumption. It finished a life 
 without a spot-~and a career of sufferings commenced and con 
 tinued without a fault. 
 
 Sights of wretchedness always touched with commiseration the 
 feelings of General Putnam, and prompted his generous soul to 
 succour the afflicted. But the indulgence which he showed, when-
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 325 
 
 ever it did not militate against his duty, towards the deserted and 
 suffering families of the tories in the State of New-York, was the 
 cruse of his becoming unpopular with no inconsiderable class of 
 people in that State. On the other side, he had conceived an 
 unconquerable aversion to many of the persons who were entrusted 
 with the disposal of tory-property, because he believed them to 
 have been guilty of peculations and other infamous practices. 
 But although the enmity between him and the sequestrators was 
 acrimonious as mutual, yet he lived in habits of amity with the 
 most respectable characters in public departments, as well as in 
 private life. 
 
 His character was also respected by the enemy. He had been 
 acquainted with many of the principal officers in a former war. 
 As flags frequently passed between the out-posts, during his con 
 tinuance on the lines, it was a common practice to forward news 
 papers by them; and as those printed by Rivington, the royal 
 printer in New- York, were infamous for the falsehoods with which 
 they abounded, General Putnam once sent a packet to his old friend 
 General Robertson, with this billet: " Majoi'-General Putnam 
 " presents his compliments to Major-General Robertson, and 
 " sends him some American newspapers for his perusal when 
 " General Robertson shall have done with them, it is requested 
 " they be given to Rivingtcn, in order that he may print some 
 * truth." 
 
 Late in the year we left the lines and repaired to the Highlands ; 
 for upon the loss of Fort Montgomery, the Commander in Chief 
 determined to build another fortification for the defence of the 
 river. His Excellency, accordingly, wrote to General Putnam 
 to fix upon the spot. After reconnoitering all the different places 
 proposed, and revolving in his own mind their relative advantages 
 for offence on the water and defence on the land, he fixed upon 
 WEST-POINT. It is no vulgar praise to say, that to him belongs 
 the glory of having chosen this rock of our military salvation. 
 The position for water -batteries, which might sweep the channel 
 where the river formed a right angle, made it the most proper of 
 any for commanding the navigation; while the rocky ridges that 
 rose in awful sublimity behind each other, rendered it impregna 
 ble, and even incapable of being invested by less than twenty 
 thousand men. The British, who considered this post as a sort 
 of American Gibraltar, never attempted it but by the treachery 
 of an American officer. All the world knows that this project 
 failed, and that West-Point continues to be the receptacle of every 
 thing valuable in military preparations to the present day. 
 
 In the month of January, 1778, when a snow, two feet deep, lay
 
 326 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 on the earth, General Parsons's brigade went to West-Point and 
 broke ground. Want of covering for the troops, together with 
 want of tools and materials for the works, made the prospect 
 truly gloomy and discouraging. It was necessary that means 
 should be found, though our currency was depreciated and our 
 treasury exhausted. The estimates and requisitions of Colonel 
 la Radiere, the engineer who laid out the works, altogether dis- 
 proportioned to our circumstances, served only to put us in mind 
 of our poverty, and, as it were, to satirize our resources. His 
 petulant behaviour and unaccommodating disposition added fur 
 ther embarrassments. It was then that the patriotism of Governor 
 Clinton shone in full lustre. His exertions to furnish supplies can 
 never be too much commended. His influence, arising from his 
 popularity, was unlimited : yet he hesitated not to put all his po-, 
 pularity at risk, whenever the federal interests demanded. Not 
 withstanding the impediments that opposed our progress, with his 
 aid, before the opening of the campaign, the works were in 
 great forwardness. 
 
 According to a resolution of Congress, an inquiry was to be 
 made into the causes of military disasters. Major-General 
 M'Dougall, Brigadier-General Huntington, and Colonel Wiggles- 
 worth composed the Court of Inquiry on the loss of Fort Mont 
 gomery. Upon full knowledge and mature deliberation of facts 
 on the spot, they reported the loss to have been occasioned by 
 want of men, and not by any fault in the Commanders. 
 
 General Putnam, who during the investigation was relieved 
 from duty, as soon as Congress had approved the report, took 
 command of the right wing of the grand army, under the orders 
 of the General in Chief. This was just after the battle of Mon- 
 mouth, when the three armies which had last year acted sepa 
 rately, joined at the White -Plains. Our effective force, in one 
 camp, was at no other time so respectable as at this juncture. The 
 army consisted of sixty regular regiments of foot, formed into fif 
 teen brigades, four battalions of artillery, four regiments of horse, 
 and several corps of State troops. But as the enemy kept close 
 within their lines on York Island, nothing could be attempted. 
 Towards the end of autumn we broke up the camp, and went 
 first to Fredericksburgh, and thence to winter-quarters. 
 
 In order to cover the country adjoining to the Sound, and to 
 support the garrison of West-Point, in case of an attack, Major- 
 General Putnam was stationed for the winter at Reading, in Con 
 necticut. He had under his orders the brigade of New-Hamp 
 shire, the two brigades of Connecticut, the corps of infantry com 
 manded by Hazen, and that of cavalry by Sheldon.
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 327 
 
 The troops, who had been badly fed, badly cloathed, and worse 
 paid, by brooding over their grievances in the leisure and inacti 
 vity of winter-quarters, began to think them intolerable. The 
 Connecticut brigades formed the design of marching to Hartford, 
 where the General Assembly was then in session, and of demand 
 ing redress at the point of the bayonet. Word having been 
 brought to General Putnam, that the second brigade was under 
 arms for this purpose, he mounted his horse, gallopped to the can 
 tonment, ami thus addressed them: " My brave lads, whither are 
 " you going ? Do you intend to desert your officers, and to invite 
 " the enemy to follow you into the country ? Whose cause have 
 " you been fighting and suffering so long in is it not your own ? 
 " Have you no property, no parents, wives or children ? You 
 " have behaved like men so far all the world is full of your 
 " praises and posterity will stand astonished at your deeds: but 
 *' not if you spoil all at last. Don't you consider how much the 
 " country is distressed by the war, and that your officers have not 
 " been any better paid than yourselves? But we all expect Ijetter 
 " times, and that the country will do us ample justice. Let us all 
 " stand by one another, then, and fight it out like brave soldiers. 
 " Think what a shame it would be for Connecticut men to run 
 " away from their officers." After the several regiments had re 
 ceived the General as he rode along the line with drums beating, 
 and presented arms, the sergeants Avho had then the command, 
 brought the men to an order^ in which position they continued 
 while he was speaking. When he had done, he directed the act 
 ing Major of Brigade to give the word for them to shoulder, march 
 to their regimental parades, and lodge arms; all which they ex 
 ecuted with promptitude and apparent good humour. One soldier 
 only, who had been the most active, was confined in the quarter- 
 guard; from whence, at night, he attempted to make his escape. 
 But the sentinel, who had also been in the mutiny, shot him dead 
 on the spot, and thus the affair subsided. 
 
 Abouc the middle of winter, while General Putnam was on a 
 visit to his out-post at Horse-Neck, he found Governor Tryon ad 
 vancing upon that town with a corps of fifteen hundred men. To 
 oppose these General Putnam had only a picquet of one hundred 
 and fifty men, and two iron field-pieces, without horses or drag- 
 ropes. He, however, planted his cannon on the high ground, by 
 the meeting-house, and retarded their approach by firing several 
 times, until, perceiving the horse (supported by the infantry) about 
 to charge, he ordered the picquet to provide for their safety, by re 
 tiring to a swamp inaccessible to horse, and secured his own, by 
 plunging down the steep precipice at the church upon a full trot.
 
 328 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 This precipice is so steep, where he descended, as to have artifi 
 cial stairs, composed of nearly one hundred stone steps, for the ac 
 commodation of foot passengers. There the Dragoons, -who were 
 but a sword's length from him, stopped short; for the declivity 
 was so abrupt, that they ventured not to follow ; and. before they 
 could gain the valley, by going round the brow of the hill in the or 
 dinary road, he was far enough beyond their reach. He conti 
 nued his route, unmolested, to Stanford ; from whence, having 
 strengthened his picquet by the junction of some misitia, he came 
 back again, and, in turn, pursued Governor Tryon in his retreat* 
 As he rode down ihe precipice, one bail, of the many fired at him, 
 went through his beaver : But Governor Tryon, by way of com 
 pensation for spoiling his hat, sent him, soon afterwards, as a pre 
 sent, a complete suit of clothes. 
 
 In the campaign of 1779, which terminated the career of Ge 
 neral Putnam's services, he commanded the Maryland line, posted 
 at Butter-milk falls, about two miles be'ovv West-Point. He was 
 happy in possessing the friendship of the officers of that line, and 
 in living on terms of hospitality with them. Indeed, there was 
 no family in the army that lived better than his own. The Ge 
 neral, his second son Major Daniel Putnam, and the writer of 
 these memoirs, composed that family. This campaign, principally 
 spent in strengthening the works of West-Point, was only signal 
 ised for the storm of Stony-Point by the light-infantry under the 
 conduct of General Wayne, and the surprise of the post of 
 Powles-Hook by the corps under the command of Colonel Henry 
 Lee. When the army quitted the field, and marched to Morris- 
 Town, into winter-quarters, General Putnam's family went into 
 Connecticut for a few weeks. In December the General began 
 his journey to Morris-Town. Upon the road between Pomfret 
 and Hartford he felt an unusual torpor slowly pervading his right 
 hand and foot. This heaviness crept gradually on, and until it 
 had deprived him of the use of his limbs on that side, in a consi 
 derable degree, before he reached the house of his friend Colo 
 nel Wadsworth. Still he was unwilling to consider his disorder 
 of the paralytic kind, and endeavoured to shake it off by exer 
 tion. Having found that impossible, a temporary dejection, dis 
 guised, however, under a veil of assumed cheerfulness, succeeded. 
 But reason, philosophy, and religion, soon reconciled him to his 
 fate. In that situation he has constantly remained, favoured with 
 such a portion of bodily activity as enables him to wa ] k and to 
 ride modei'ately; and retaining, unimpaired, his relish for enjoy 
 ment, his love of pleasantry, his strength of memory, and all the 
 faculties of his mind. As a proof that the powers of memory
 
 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 329 
 
 are not weakened, it qught to be observed, that he has lately re 
 peated, from recollection, all the adventures of his life, "which 
 are here recorded, and which had formerly been communicated 
 to the compiler in detached conversations. 
 
 In patient, yet fearless expectation of the approach of THI? 
 KING OF TERRORS, whom he hath full often faced in the field of 
 blood, the Christian hero now enjoys, in domestic retirement, the 
 fruit of his early industry. Having in youth provided a compe 
 tent subsistence for old age, he was secured from the danger of 
 penury and distress, to Which so many officers and soldiers, worn 
 out in the public service, have been reduced. To illustrate his 
 merits the more fully, this Essay will be concluded with a copy 
 of the last letter written to him, by General Washington, in his 
 military character. 
 
 " Head-Quarters, 2d June, 1783. 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " Your favour of the 20th of May I received with much plea- 
 " sure. For I can assure you that among the many worthy and 
 " meritorious officers with whom I have had the happiness to be 
 " connected in service through the course of this war, and fi-om 
 " whose cheerful assistance in the various and trying vicissitudes 
 11 of a complicated contest, the name of a PUTNAM is not forgot* 
 " ten; nor will be but with that stroke of time which shall obli- 
 " terate from my mind the remembrance of all those toils and fa- 
 " tigues through which we have struggled for the preservation 
 " and establishment of the Rights, Liberties, and Independence 
 " of our Country, 
 
 " Your congratulations on the happy prospects of peace and 
 " independent security, with their attendant blessings to the 
 " UNITED STATES, I receive with great satisfaction; and beg 
 " that you will accept a return of my gratulations to you on this 
 " auspicious event an event, in which, great as it is in itself, and 
 " glorious as it will probably be in its consequences, you have a 
 " right to participate largely, from the distinguished part you 
 " have contributed towards its attainment. 
 
 " But while I contemplate the greatness of the object for which 
 " we have contended, and felicitate you on the happy issue of our 
 " toils and labours, which have terminated with such general 
 " satisfaction, I lament that you should feel the ungrateful returns 
 " of a country, in whose service you have exhausted your bodily 
 " strength, and expended the vigour of a youthful constitution, 
 " I wish, however, that your expectations of returning liberality 
 " may be verified. I have a hope they may' but should they 
 " not, your case will not be a singular one. Ingratitude has been 
 
 2U
 
 330 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM, 
 
 ' experienced in all ages, and REPUBLICS, in particular, have 
 " ever been famed for the exercise of that unnatural and SOR- 
 
 '* DID VICE. 
 
 " The SECRETARY AT WAR, who is now here, informs me 
 " that you have ever been considered as entitled to full pay since 
 " your absence from the field, and that you will still be considered 
 " in that light until the close of the war ; at which period you will 
 " be equally entitled to the same emoluments of half-pay or com- 
 " mutation as other officers of your rank. The same opinion is 
 " also given by the Pay-Master-General, who is now with the 
 *' army, impowered by Mr. Morris for the settlement of all their 
 " accounts, and who will attend to year's whenever you shall think 
 " proper to send on for the purpose, which k will probably be 
 *' best for you to do in a short time. 
 
 " I anticipate, with pleasure, the day, and that, I trust, not 
 " far off, when I shall quit the busy scenes of a military employ- 
 " ment, and retire to the more tranquil walks of domestic life. 
 u In that, or whatever other situation Providence may dispose of 
 " my future days, THE REMEMBRANCE OF THE MANY FRIEND- 
 
 " SHIPS AND CONNECTIONS I HAVE HAD THE HAPPINESS TO 
 CONTRACT WITH THE GENTLEMEN OF THE ARMY, WILL 
 " BE ONE OF MY MOST GRATEFUL REFLECTIONS. Under this 
 
 " contemplation, and impressed ivith tJte sentiments of benevo- 
 il lence and regard, I commend you, my dear Sir, my other 
 "friends, and with them, the interests and happiness of our dear 
 " country^ to the KEEPING AND PROTECTION OF ALMIGHTY 
 GOD, 
 
 *' I have the honour to be, Sec. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 " To the Honourable Major-Gcneral PufifAM." 
 
 GENERAL PUTNAM died the 29th of May, 1790.
 
 
 
 AN 
 
 ORATION 
 
 ON THZ 
 
 POLITICAL SITUATION 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 
 IN THE YEAR 1789. 
 
 Pronounced before the State Society of the Cincinnati of Connecticut, 
 
 at New-Haven, in Celebration of the thirteenth 
 
 Anniversary of Independence. 
 
 PUBLISHED AT THE REQUEST OjF THE SOCIETf.
 
 AN 
 
 ORATION, &c. 
 
 OlNCE the last Anniversary of Independence, my dear fellow- 
 citizens, we have been witnesses to the complete establishment of 
 a new general government. On an event of such magnitude, the 
 voice of congratulation has already been heard from one extreme 
 of our land to the other. But as our felicitations can never be 
 more grateful than at the time when we are convened to com. 
 memorate the birth of our nation, it may, perhaps, be expected, 
 from the task I am called upon to perform this day, that I should 
 be the organ for expressing the part we bear in this universal joy. 
 I feel a confidence, from the sensations of my own heart, that 
 every bosom in this assembly beats high at the thought of our coun 
 try's happiness. Even the ardent eyes and the animated counte 
 nances of all who compose it, attest how sincerely they rejoice in 
 the prospect before them. But, in the midst of our rejoicings, 
 we ought to remember, that no occasion can be more suitable than 
 the present for employing our reflections on our political situa 
 tion. I will therefore hope for your indulgence, while I make a 
 few observations on the American revolution; on the necessity 
 which afterwards appeared for establishing a general government 
 of more energy than the original confederation ; on the nature of 
 the government which has lately been carried into effect ; and on 
 the national prosperity which we may reasonably expect will re 
 sult from the faithful administration of that government. 
 
 At the commencement of the late war with Great-Britain, when 
 we thought ourselves justifiable in resisting to blood, it was known 
 to those best acquainted with the different conditions of the com 
 batants, and the probable cost of the prize in dispute, that the 
 expense, in comparison with our circumstances as colonists, must 
 be enormous the struggle protracted, doubtful, and severe. It 
 was known that the resources of Britain were almost inexhausti 
 ble, that her fleets covered the ocean, and that her troops had 
 harvested laurels in every quarter of the globe. Not then organ 
 ized as a nation, or known as a people on the earth, we had no
 
 354 ON THE POLITICAL SITUATION 
 
 preparations. Money, the nerve of war, was wanting. The 
 sword was to be forged on the anvil of necessity ; the treasury to 
 be created from nothing. If we had a resource, unknown to our 
 enemy, it was in the unconquerable resolution of our citizens, the 
 conscious rectitude of our cause, and a confident trust that we 
 should not be forsaken by heaven. The people willingly offered 
 themselves to the battle; but the means of arming, clothing and 
 subsisting them, as well as of providing the general implements 
 of hostility, were only to be found in anticipations of our future 
 wealth. Bills of credit were emitted ; monies borrowed for the 
 most pressing emergencies ; and our men in the field unpaid for 
 their services. At this time the magnanimous monarch of France 
 reached a fostering hand to assist in rescuing us from ruin. In 
 this manner, peace, attended with every circumstance that could 
 gratify our reasonable desires, was at length obtained ; but a load 
 of debt was left upon us. The fluctuation of our paper currency, 
 and the consequent frequency of speculation in it, had, in too 
 many instances, occasioned vague ideas of property, produced 
 licentious appetites, and corrupted the morals of men. To these 
 immediate consequences of a fluctuating medium of commerce, 
 may be joined a tide of circumstances, that flowed together from 
 sources mostly opened during and after the war. The ravage of 
 farms, the conflagration of towns, the diminution of agriculture, 
 the extinction of trade, the embarrassment of some who were in 
 debted to British merchants before the war, the privation in all, 
 during its continuance, of many conveniences of life, the subse 
 quent influx of merchandize, the tempting facility of procuring it 
 without present payment, the growing taste for extravagance, 
 and the habit, too soon acquired, of deferring or eluding satis 
 faction for just obligations, now began to overwhelm the continent 
 with private distress, bankruptcy, and breach of faith. 
 
 From this period also our public affairs were seen to, decline. 
 I will ask your attention for a moment, while I speak of the un 
 satisfactory part of our old confederation, and the necessity that 
 became apparant for instituting a different form of government. 
 It is not a subject of wonder that the first project of a federal go- 
 vernment, formed on the defective models of some foreign confe 
 deracies, in the midst of a war, before we had much experience 
 in political affairs, and while, from the concurrence of external 
 danger, and the patriotic impulse of the moment, implicit obedi 
 ence was yielded to the requisitions of an advisory council, should 
 have been imperfect. Our astonishment ought rather to be ex 
 cited, that, feeble and inefficient as the government was, it not 
 only carried us in safety through the war, but kept us from seve-
 
 OF THE UNITED STATES IN 1789". 33* 
 
 ranee until another could be substituted. By the original confede-- 
 ration, the right to make demands on the several States for such 
 pecuniary supplies as might be necessary for defraying the ex 
 penses of the war, and for supporting the government of the 
 union, together with some other specific prerogatives of sove 
 reignty, were committed to Congress. But Congress, constituted 
 in most respects as a diplomatic body, possessed no power of car 
 rying into execution a single resolution, however urgeatly dictated 
 by prudence, policy or justice. The individual communities, 
 knowing there existed no power of coercion, treated with neglect, 
 whenever it suited their convenience or caprice, the most salutary- 
 measures and the most indispensable requisitions of Congress^ 
 Experience taught us, that the powers given by the members of 
 the union to their federal head, were not sufficient to enable it to 
 accomplish the' purposes for which the body politic had been 
 formed. We now touched on thtfhour of humiliation. The con 
 federacy was found to be a government in name rather than in 
 reality. Hence the interest due on our public debts remained un 
 paid. Hence many a veteran was reduced to unmerited distress. 
 Hence we were continually liable, on our own- part, to have infrac 
 tions made upon treaties, which were equally honourable, advan 
 tageous and saeved. Hence we were in danger of having our 
 faith become as proverbial as that of Carthage, and our name the 
 scorn of the earth. Hence there was a nation, which, in some 
 measure, excluded our vessels from its ports, burdened our com 
 merce with intolerable impositions, introduced its ships into our 
 carrying trade, and, because we were destitute of a reta.iating 
 power, refused to enter into a commercial treaty with us. With 
 a debt accumulating from the necessity of obtaining repeated 
 loans ; with a credit much impaired for the want of punctuality, 
 and apprehension of national bankruptcy; with cries for justice 
 from the widow, the fatherless, and the soldier worn out in his 
 country's defence, ascending to that Being who hath purer eyes 
 than to behold iniquity with impunity, who is a God of vengeance 
 as well as a God of justice whither could we turn for succour? 
 where could we fly for refuge I 
 
 The veil that concealed this melancholy and afflicting picture, 
 was at last withdrawn. The, wise and the good stood astonished 
 at the sight ; none but the ignorant or the wicked rested uncon 
 cerned. Even fearfulness seized, in many instances, upon those 
 well-meaning politicians whose security had been produced by the 
 scantiness of their information, and the confinement of their 
 views to the local advantages of the States to which they belonged* 
 Then it was that men, better informed and more conversant ia
 
 336 ON THE POLITICAL SITUATION 
 
 civil affairs, began to dread that a free, yet efficient government^ 
 the object which animated in life, and soothed in death, those he 
 roes who had sealed their principles with their blood, must still 
 be lost: that the prospect of national happiness, which invigo 
 rated our arms and cheered our hearts through the perilous strug 
 gle for independence, must vanish for ever from our view : and 
 that the hope of establishing the empire of reason, justice, philo 
 sophy, and religion, throughout the extensive regions of the new 
 world, would be considered but the illusion of a heated imagina 
 tion. And what could be more mortifying to every true patriot, 
 than to perceive our countrymen ready to rush headlong on their 
 ruin ready to destroy the asylum which was just offered for suf 
 fering humanity -ready to Verify the predictions of our foes, that 
 our independence would prove a curse to its votaries and, by 
 frustrating the fairest opportunity ever afforded for a people to 
 become great and happy in the enjoyment of freedom, to confirm 
 the detestable doctrine, that mankind, unequal to the task of go 
 verning themselves, were made for a state of slavery ? Thus our 
 old confederation seemed passing away. Our day of political 
 probation appeared expiring. The Rcfiublic was about to assume, 
 if I may be allowed the expression, a renovated body, prepared 
 for a more permanent state of existence in bliss or woe. Life 
 and death were in our option. The first was involved in UNION 
 under a good general government the last in SEPARATION into 
 a number of miserable fragments of empire. So long as strength 
 must be deemed preferable to weakness, harmony to confusion, 
 peace to war, happiness to misery, and independence to subjuga 
 tion, the American people, who will always judge right when 
 they shall have the means of information, could not hesitate to 
 prefer the former. Nor is it unworthy of remark, that, amidst 
 the variety of opinions which prevailed respecting the system of 
 government proper to be adopted, no man was found so hardy as 
 to outrage the feelings of his countrymen, by openly advocating 
 counsels of disunion. And may we not, uninfluenced by super 
 stition, believe that heaven infused the idea into our legislatures, 
 to convoke a national assembly, at this interesting and awful 
 crisis ! 
 
 The result is so well known, that I forbear to dilate upon it. 
 Happily the spirit of accommodation, that influenced the Conven 
 tion, has been diffused among their countrymen. The adoption 
 of the government by so many communities, distinct in their 
 views and interests, will be an immortal memorial of victory 
 gained by enlightened reason over brutal force. Can we contem 
 plate a whole people, like a nation of philosophers, discussing and
 
 OF THE UNITED STATES IN 1789. 337 
 
 agreeing on a form of government : can we contemplate a work 
 so vast in its import, and so wonderfully effected not by violence 
 and bloodshed, but by deliberation and consent without exclaim 
 ing in rapturous admiration, behold a new thing under the sun ! 
 and without uttering in grateful adoration, lo, this is indeed the 
 LORD'S doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes! 
 
 Without presuming to trespass on your patience so far as to at 
 tempt to analize the Constitution, or to demonstrate its merits by 
 logical deductions, I may, perhaps, be permitted just to observe, 
 that it appears to be, in its formation, a government of the peo 
 ple, that is to say, a government in which all power is derived 
 from, and, at stated periods, reverts to them and that, in its 
 operation, it is a government of laws made and executed by the 
 fair substitutes of the people alone. The election of the different 
 branches of Congress by the freemen, either directly or indi 
 rectly, is the pivot on which turns the first wheel of government 
 a wheel which communicates motion to the whole machine: at 
 the same time, the exercise of this right of election seems to be 
 so regulated, as to afford less opportunity for corruption and influ 
 ence, and more for stability and volition, than has usually been in 
 cident to popular governments. Nor could the members of Con 
 gress exempt themselves from the consequences of any unjust or 
 tyrannical acts which they might impose upon others: for, in a 
 short time, they will mingle with the mass of the people. Their 
 interests must therefore be the same, and their feelings in sym 
 pathy with those of their constituents. Besides, their re-election 
 must always depend upon the good reputation which they shall 
 have maintained in the judgment of their fellow citizens. Hence 
 we may be induced to conclude, that this government is less ob 
 noxious to well-founded objections than most which have existed 
 in the world. And in that opinion we may be confirmed on 
 three accounts: First, because every government ought to be pos 
 sessed of powers adequate to the purposes for which it was insti 
 tuted ; secondly, because no other, or greater powers, appear to 
 be delegated to this government, than are essential to attain the 
 objects for which it was instituted, to wit, the safety and happi 
 ness of the governed ; and, thirdly) because it is clear, that no 
 government, before introduced among mankind, ever contained 
 so many checks, or such efficacious restraints, to prevent it from 
 degenerating into any species of oppression. It is unnecessary to 
 be insisted upon, because it is well understood, that the impotence 
 of Congress under the former confederation, and the inexpediency 
 of trusting sufficiently ample prerogatives to a single body, gave 
 birth to the different branches which constitute the present gene- 
 
 2X
 
 338 ON THE POLITICAL SITUATION 
 
 ral government. Convinced that the balances, arising from the 
 distribution of the Legislative, Executive, and Judicial powers in 
 this government, are the best which have hitherto been insti 
 tuted, I presume not to assert that better may not still be devised. 
 To avoid a wanton levity of innovation on the one hand, and an un 
 alterable practice of error on the other, are points in policy equally 
 desirable, though, I believe, a constitutional power to effect them 
 never before existed. Whether the mode which is pointed out in 
 this Constitution, for procuring amendments, be not the wisest, 
 and apparently the happiest expedient that ever has been sug 
 gested by human prudence, I leave every unprejudiced mind to de 
 termine. If, in the mean time, it was a given point, that the late 
 federal government could not have existed much longer; if, with 
 out some speedy remedy, a dissolution of the union must have en 
 sued ; if, without adhering to the union, we could have no secu 
 rity against falling a prey to foreign invasion or domestic usurpa 
 tion ; if upon our adherence to the union depended the protection 
 of our property at home, and the profits of our commerce abroad ; 
 if the almost unanimous agreement of the federal Convention 
 upon this plan of government, under the local prejudices and va 
 rious expectations of the States, could be deemed little short of 
 miraculous ; if there was an easy provision made for the correc 
 tion of such errors as should be found, from the imbecility of hu 
 man nature, to have insinuated themselves into it; and if, upon a 
 .rejection previous to amendments, there did not appear any pro 
 bability that the same system could be soon enough amended, or 
 any other substituted in its place by another Convention surely 
 no State* ought to have rejected it without pondering well on the 
 consequences : because, anarchy and civil war, with an eventual 
 government of chance or force, appeared but too probable conse 
 quences of a general rejection* 
 
 Under such circumstances it was doubtless the part of wisdom. 
 to adopt the Constitution. I pretend to no unusual foresight into 
 futurity, and therefore cannot undertake to decide what may be 
 its ultimate fate. If a promised good should terminate in an un 
 expected evil, it would not be a solitary example of disappoint 
 ment. If the blessings of heaven, showered thick around us, should 
 be spilled on the ground, or converted to curses through the fault 
 of those for whose use they were proffered, it would not be the 
 first instance of folly or perverseness in short-sighted mortals. 
 The blessed religion, revealed in the word of God, will remain 
 
 * At this time, the States of North-Carolina and Rhode-Island had not acceded ta the 
 general jovsrr.ment.
 
 OF THE UNITED STATES IN 1X89. 339 
 
 an eternal and awful monument to prove, that the best institutions 
 may be abused by human depravity; and that they may even, in 
 some instances, be made subservient to the vilest of purposes. 
 Should, hereafter, those who are intrusted with the management 
 of this government, incited by the lust of domination, and prompted 
 by the supineness or venality of their constituents, break down the 
 barriers of this Constitution, and trample on the prostrated rights 
 of humanity, it will only serve to show that no compact among 
 men, however provident in its construction, and sacred in its ratifi 
 cation, can be pronounced everlasting and inviolable ; and, if I may 
 so express myself, that no wall of words, that no mound of parch 
 ment, can be so formed as to stand against the sweeping torrent 
 of boundless ambition on the one side, aided by the sapping cur 
 rent of corrupted morals on the other. But until the people of 
 America shall have lost all virtue ; until they shall have become 
 totally insensible to the differences between liberty and slavery ; 
 until they shall have been reduced to such poverty of spirit as to 
 be willing to sell that pre-eminent blessing of rational beings, the 
 birth-right of freedom ; in short, until they shall have been found 
 incapable of governing themselves, and ripe for a master, these 
 consequences, I should fondly hope, can never arrive. 
 
 I proceed now, in the order proposed, to treat of the head that 
 was reserved for the conclusion of this discourse: I mean the 
 national prosperity which we may reasonably expect will result 
 from the faithful administration of this government. My chief 
 design in mentioning a few circumstances eminently calculated to 
 promote our happiness as a people, is to increase a disposition to 
 make the best possible use of these circumstances. Can there be 
 any pursuit more consonant to the dictates of reason and nature, 
 than that whose object is the promotion of the happiness of our 
 country? To embrace this object in its utmost limit, our imagina 
 tions must expand with the dimensions of a continent, and extend 
 with the revolutions of futurity. 
 
 The preliminary observation, that a free government ought to 
 be founded on the information and morals of the people, will here 
 find its proper place. Happily our citizens are remarkably in 
 structed by education, docile to duty, and ingenious for making 
 improvements. More knowledge is, perhaps, at this moment 
 diffused among them, than among any other people under hea 
 ven. The conduct and issue of the late war may be a criterion 
 to decide, whether they are destitute of wisdom in the cabinet, 
 or fortitude in the field. For investigation of the rights of man, 
 for ingenuity in applying principles already discovered to works 
 of mechanism, for inventions in useful arts, and for researches i
 
 340 ON THE POLITICAL SITUATION 
 
 several branches of philosophy, few have gone before them* 
 Even for efforts of genius, in some of the finer arts, they are 
 thought, by the best judges, scarcely to have been excelled in the 
 present age. The world has applauded their public writings, for 
 the good sense and manly diction by which they are distinguished. 
 Yet it is not for us, who claim no more than to be upon a level 
 with our fellow-men, to encourage one another in entertaining too 
 high an opinion of ourselves. It is enough that we do not feel a 
 degrading consciousness of belonging to that infei'ior class of mor 
 tals, in which some of the philosophers of Europe have had the 
 presumption to place us. On the contrary, peculiar fields of na 
 ture and contemplation are peculiarly favourable to the expansion 
 of the human powers. If we possess any grandeur of soul, any 
 penetration of thought, any combination for project, the great 
 scenes of nature with which we are surrounded, and the great 
 political drama in which we are required to take a part, will call 
 them into action. When we reflect upon our relative situation, 
 we cannot consider ourselves as members of a petty community, 
 or as beings acting for a fleeting moment. We are not, like many 
 of the European States, limited to our present numbers. Though 
 it should be the primary object of our rulers to promote the im 
 mediate felicity of a nation, as singular in its origin as new to po 
 litical life ; yet they cannot forget, that the happiness of countless 
 millions, who are to draw their first breath in America, may de 
 pend, in a great degree, on the discipline, institutions, and ex 
 amples of this generation. For certain it is, the population of 
 our country must increase almost beyond the power of calculation. 
 The stream of people, wave propelling wave, must, with the 
 lapse of years, roll back to the Lake of the Woods. From our 
 geographical position, it is not for kings and parliaments, with 
 their assumed omnipotence, to stop those waves in their proper 
 course. It is not for impolitic princes, vainly checking our com 
 merce for momentary gain, to prevent us from becoming a com 
 mercial, a rich, and a powerful people. Had they really a design 
 of accomplishing this, it would be adviseable to begin with anni 
 hilating our natural advantages, with drying up our innumerable 
 navigable rivers, and with sterilizing the uncommon fertility of 
 our soil. 
 
 The benign effects which, in all human probability, will be pro 
 duced by the faithful administration of this government, must not 
 be entirely passed in silence, though they can be but imperfectly no 
 ticed. Hitherto, for want of an efficient government, the felicities 
 that were promised by our situation, and the advantages that were 
 expected from our independence, have not equalled our hopes.
 
 OF THE UNITED STATES IN 1789. 341 
 
 The harvest of blessings, sown in fields fattened with the blood of 
 heroes, hath mocked our expectations. But under the present 
 Constitution, being uncommonly protected in our persons and our 
 acquisitions, we shall have uncommonly favourable opportunities 
 for increasing and enjoying our natural resources. We have pur 
 chased wisdom by experience. Though mankind are believed to 
 be averse to the coercions of government, yet no sooner had our 
 countrymen felt the inconveniencies arising from the feebleness of 
 our former confederation, than they seemed willing to invest a 
 new Congress with a farther portion of their original rights, for 
 the purpose of being more fully protected in the enjoyment of the 
 remainder. Thus the dispositions of our countrymen have been 
 gradually matured to receive an energetic government. Heaven 
 be thanked that we have lived to see its wonders in our native land, 
 not less in darkness and tempest than in sunshine and serenity ! 
 Now the clouds that obscured our political horizon are bursting 
 away. The dawn of happiness begins to appear. We cannot 
 refrain from experiencing the consolatory joys of futurity, in con 
 templating the immense deserts, yet untrodden by the foot of man, 
 soon to become fair as the garden of God, soon to be animated 
 by the activity of multitudes, and soon to be made vocal with the 
 praises of the MOST HIGH. Can it be imagined that so many 
 peculiar advantages of soil and of climate, for agriculture, for 
 navigation, and eventually for manufactures, were lavished in 
 vain or that this vast continent was not created and reserved so 
 long undiscovered, as a theatre for those glorious displays of Di 
 vine power and goodness, the salutary consequences of which will 
 flow to another hemisphere, and extend through the interminable 
 series of ages! Should not our souls exult in the prospect? . 
 Though we shall not survive to perceive, with these bodily senses, 
 but a small portion of the blessed effects which our revolution will 
 occasion in the rest of the world ; yet we may enjoy the progress 
 of human society, and human happiness, in anticipation. We 
 may rejoice in a belief, that intellectual light will yet illuminate 
 the dark corners of the earth ; that freedom of inquiry will pro 
 duce liberality of conduct ; that mankind will reverse the absurd 
 position, that the many were made for the few ; and that they 
 will not continue slaves in one quarter of the globe, when they 
 can become freemen in another. 
 
 With such animating prospects before us; with a spirit of in 
 dustry becoming every day more prevalent; with habits of eco 
 nomy, first prompted by necessity, now acquiring force from 
 fashion ; with dispositions that a reverence for public and private 
 justice should form the basis of our national character ; we only
 
 342 ON THE POLITICAL SITUATION, fcc. 
 
 wanted a good government, well administered, to establish our 
 happiness at home, and our respectability abroad. This is the 
 time for fixing our national character and national manners. For 
 this purpose, the integrity, the talents, and the examples of such 
 an assemblage of illustrious personages as those who are now em 
 ployed in the general government, were highly requisite. Notwith 
 standing the unanimous suffrage of our countrymen in favour of the 
 Supreme Magistrate supersedes the propriety of my mentioning 
 the circumstances of his coming again into public life, the senti 
 ments entertained of his character, and the benefits expected 
 from his administration; yet I may be allowed to say, that no 
 selection of sages, in this or any other country, ever merited the 
 confidence of their fellow-citizens more than the members of the 
 present Congress. If then the body of worthy citizens will co 
 operate with the general and state governments, in endeavours to 
 promote the public felicity ; if the ministers of religion will exert 
 themselves in their holy functions to disseminate peace and good 
 will among men ; if the executive officers of government will not 
 bear the sword of justice in vain, but be a terror to evil doers 
 and a praise to such as shall do well ; we may congratulate our 
 selves upon having lived at so important a period, and seen the 
 establishment of a government calculated to promote the perma 
 nent prosperity and glory of our nation.
 
 DISSERTATION 
 
 BREED OF SPANISH SHEEP 
 
 CALLED 
 
 MERINO.
 
 DISSERTATION, &c. 
 
 J8os(on, August 25, 1802. 
 SIR, 
 
 I RECEIVE, with great satisfaction, the several publications of 
 the Massachusetts Society for promoting Agriculture which have 
 been presented to me ; and notice, with due respect, the intimation 
 that communications from me on the important subject of their in 
 stitution would be highly acceptable to the Trustees. In conse 
 quence of this general invitation in writing, corroborated by your 
 particular verbal request, I shall proceed to give you such an ac 
 count of the breed of sheep which I brought with me from Europe 
 to America as my recollection can furnish. 
 
 Many circumstances concurred to favour the importation, some 
 of which may not be expected soon to unite again : the sea 
 son was the best that could have been chosen for a safe and easy 
 passage : the conclusion of a general peace rendered the trans 
 portation less exposed to embarrassments than it had been for se 
 veral years ; and the diminution of the freighting business made 
 it less difficult than it otherwise would have been to engage a con 
 venient vessel for transporting a greater number of sheep than 
 probably ever before passed the Atlantic together. My acquaint 
 ance in the capitals of Spain and Portugal, as well as with the of 
 ficers commanding on the frontiers, afforded me greater facilities 
 for the extraction than any stranger could be supposed to possess. 
 
 The importance of meliorating the breed of sheep in our country j 
 particularly in the article of wool, had been early and deeply im 
 pressed on my mind. In addition to the gradual process of im 
 provement, by bestowing more care and attention on our native 
 flocks, in feeding them well, and crossing the blood, obviously sug 
 gested by reason and experience, two modes occurred for hasten 
 ing and insuring the attainment of that interesting object. The 
 first, to introduce and propagate an entirely new race, if a more 
 perfect one could be obtained : the second, to meliorate our stock, 
 by producing a mixed progeny from our ordinary ewes, by rams of 
 a better breed. Both might be tried at the same time ; and various 
 experiments in different countries encouraged me to hope that 
 both would succeed. But before there could be sufficiently good 
 
 3Y
 
 346 ON THE MERINO SHEEP. 
 
 reason for justifying the trouble and expense of transporting an ade 
 quate number across the western ocean, it was the part of wisdom 
 to ascertain, first, whether the breed be superior, in intrinsic va 
 lue, to those which already existed at the place of destination? 
 and, in that case, secondly, whether the race contemplated to be 
 introduced is likely, when propagated there, to retain all those 
 qualities which constituted the original superiority of value? And 
 here I founded my opinion in the affirmative of both questions, as 
 applied to a particular kind of Spanish sheep, on the facts stated 
 in some instances by respectable individuals, and in others by of 
 ficial reports. 
 
 In Spain two distinct species of sheep have existed for ages, 
 the one named MERINOS, famous for their short and fine wool, 
 peculiarly fit for carding; the other denominated CHURROS, 
 distinguished for their long and coarse wool, more suitable foy 
 combing. The former are so precions as to be sought with eager 
 ness by all who wish to meliorate the staple for woollen manufac 
 tory in any country of Europe; while the latter, though much 
 larger in size, are in so little estimation as never to be procured 
 for exportation. My statements and remarks will be confined to 
 the MERINOS. The height of the male is about the same as that 
 of the ordinary breed in this country; the head appears rather 
 bigger and straighter ; the ears are very small ; the eyes re 
 markably bright ; the horns curved in a spiral turn ; the neck 
 short ; the chest broad ; the members more compact and thick 
 than those of our former breed of sheep; and the carcase is 
 thought to have smaller bones, and to be more rounded in the 
 hinder part ; the body, face, and legs, are covered with a deli 
 cate fleece, which grows amazingly thick, without any mixture 
 of coarser locks or hairs - r the fleece is remarked to be much 
 more iaapi'egnated than that of any other breed, with an oily sub 
 stance, apparently exuded in perspiration. This animal is per 
 fectly gentle, but quick, firm, and regular in all his movements. 
 The female is considered, generally, as having the more charao- 
 teristics of the pure blood, in proportion as she approximates to 
 this description yet the ewes are commonly destitute of horns, 
 as is the case with those of my little flock. That flock, consisting 
 of twenty-one rams and seventy ewes, has probably seldom, if ever, 
 been surpassed by any extracted from the southern peninsula of 
 Europe, for the fine, soft, silky, strong, supple, and elastic quali 
 ties of the wool. I send herewith a specimen in its natural state, 
 for the sheep were sheared upon their arrival in this country, 
 without having been washed. 
 
 A few well-attested facts will serve to show the value of this*
 
 ON THE MERINO SHEEP. 547 
 
 race. None of the superfine cloths made in England, France, 
 and Holland can be fabricated without the mixture of a certain 
 portion of this wool. The price is more than twice as high per 
 pound as it is for ordinary kinds. I shall mention, in another 
 place, the increased weight of the fleece, when this breed has 
 been transferred from Spain to another country, upon the testi 
 mony of those concerned in their management. That the flesh is 
 not less succulent or well-flavoured than the best English or Ame 
 rican mutton, I have had frequent opportunities to decide for my 
 self. It is understood that the Merinos are more easily maintained 
 and fattened than the taller and larger breed insomuch, that 
 there are persons acquainted with both breeds, who calculate that 
 two hundred of these small-boned and short-legged sheep may be 
 kept in tolerably good condition, where twenty of the others would 
 suffer for want. Such are some of the singularly useful properties 
 which give a superior value to this species of sheep. 
 
 To establish a strong presumption in favour of the second point, 
 namely, that the race then contemplated to be introduced into the 
 United States was likely to preserve all, those qualities which 
 constituted the original superiority of value, I needed only refer 
 to the propagation of a breed from the same stock, with fleeces 
 augmented in quantity and undiminished in fineness, in Great-Bri 
 tain, France, Holland, Switzerland, Germany, Denmark, and 
 Sweden. In the most northern climate to which they have been 
 carried, they have supported the cold perfectly well, and even 
 without suffering any injury from having been, in some instances, 
 buried for a time under the snow. At the national farm of Ram- 
 bouillet, in France, they are reported, on good authority, to have 
 not only resisted the unfavourable influence of a situation natu 
 rally too low and moist, but to have preserved their wool in all its 
 original fineness, and to have increased the weight to an astonish 
 ing degree. Hence we perceive the unsatisfactory reasons as 
 signed for the peculiar excellence of this bi'eed, in the nature of 
 the vegetables on which they feed, and the journies which the 
 greater part of the flocks make twice a year in Spain. It is a fact 
 confirmed by experience beyond contradiction, that the quality of 
 the wool does not depend on the quality of the pastures in Spain, 
 because the same pastures have maintained, from time immemo 
 rial, two different breeds, which have never assimilated ; one re 
 markable for the shortness and fineness, the other tor the length 
 and coarseness of the wool. It is moreover equally well proved, 
 that the quality does not depend on the journies which the greater 
 part of the Merinos make annually, because there are other flocks 
 of the same race which remain perpetually in the same district.
 
 348 ON THE MERINO SHEEP. 
 
 whose fleeces are of the same consistency precisely as the others* 
 The flocks that do travel, or do not travel, which are nourished 
 with plentiful food, and taken good care of, by excluding the de 
 formed, sick, and weak from becoming breeders, are preserved 
 in all the purity of the original stock ; while those, in either pre 
 dicament, migrating or resident, which are subjected to feel the 
 effects of scarcity and negligence, invariably degenerate. 
 
 The race of Merinos, probably first imported from Barbary to 
 Europe, are believed to have become superior to the original stock, 
 or at least to the sheep which now exist on the opposite coast of 
 the Mediterranean. Climate and culture have both an influence 
 in the formation and constitution of animals. The progeny of 
 those which have been transferred a great distance from north to 
 south, become frequently more feeble and coarse than their pro 
 genitors while those in the contrary case, which haye been re 
 moved from south to north, ai-e generally better formed and finer 
 coated. The Moors, who, when in possession of Spain, had made 
 great proficiency in every branch of rural economy, might possi 
 bly have co-operated with the salubrity of the climate and sweet 
 ness of the_ pastures in the improvement of this breed of sheep. 
 During the civil wars, this moveable treasure was more readily 
 rescued from the depredations of invaders, than the fruits of the 
 earth, by being more easily conveyed from the vallies, and con 
 cealed in the mountains ; and might, consequently, have commanded 
 a greater portion of care and attention. Nor did the country be 
 come altogether unfavourable for the nourishment of sheep, when, 
 in several districts, a slovenly husbandry succeeded the expulsion 
 of the Moors, and, by degrees, left extensive uncultivated wastes 
 for this Tartar-like mode of subsistence. Casualty or necessity 
 rather than forethought or reason, introduced the practice of en 
 tertaining migrating flocks. They multiplied as industry in cul 
 tivating the soil diminished. The nobles or rich individuals, who 
 were the proprietors, found their advantage in them. The trou 
 ble and expense of keeping and nourishing was small. Accident 
 was converted into system. Prescription gave a sanction to the 
 proceeding; high-ways were obliged to be left wide, privileges 
 were granted, and laws were formed for the protection of this 
 species of property, to the detriment of the community : for, by 
 these means, cultivation of the land was checked, and crops cir 
 cumscribed in narrower limits than they otherwise would have 
 been. This preference has long been complained of by several 
 patriotic writers on the subjects of national industry, Agriculture, 
 and economy; and it has been asserted, that by a different encou 
 ragement and tillage, in produ^iog artificial grasses, or other nu-
 
 ON THE MERINO SHEEP. 349 
 
 tvicious vegetables and roots, the support of a much larger num 
 ber of sheep would be compatible with a vast extension of culti 
 vation. In the mean time, while this suggestion is unadopted, the 
 vigilance of the shepherds, in remaining day and night with their 
 charge, in reserving the best-formed and finest-wooled only for 
 breeding, and in knowing and attending to each individual of their 
 flocks, has doubtless contributed much to preserve them from de 
 generating down to the present day. 
 
 Convinced that this race of sheep, of which I believe not one 
 had been brought to the United States until the importation by 
 myself, might be introduced with great benefit to our country, I 
 contracted with a person of the most respectable character, to 
 deliver to me, at Lisbon, one hundred, composed of twenty rfive 
 rams and seventy-five ewes, from one to two years old. They 
 were conducted, with proper passports, across the country of Por 
 tugal by three Spanish shepherds, and escorted by a small guard 
 of Portuguese soldiers. On the 10th of April last they were em 
 barked in the Tagus, on board the ship Perseverance, of 250 tons, 
 Caleb Coggeshall master. In about fifty days twenty-one rams 
 and seventy ewes were landed at Derby, in Connecticut; they 
 having been shifted at New-York on board of a sloop destined to 
 that river. The nine which died were pi'incipally killed in con 
 sequence of bruises received by the violent rolling of the vessel 
 on the banks of Newfoundland. To prevent that and other dis 
 asters as far as might be by prudent precautions, the whole space 
 between decks was divided into four pens of twenty-five sheep 
 each, the rams having been kept separate in one, and the least vi 
 gorous ewes in another, with convenient racks, troughs, and tubs 
 for feeding and watering them. The change from the open air 
 to close confinement, and from green to dry food, occasioned them 
 to suffer less inconvenience than I had apprehended. They eat 
 more than a pound of English hay each, together with about a gill 
 of Indian corn, or an equivalent of bran, with salt occasionally, 
 and drank at the rate of nearly a quart of water a day. This 
 was double the ration which the Spanish shepherds calculated. 
 J mention these minute incidents for the sake of those who may 
 hereafter make importations. Some of the sheep appeared to 
 have so voracious an appetite, that it was deemed expedient to li 
 mit the quantity of forage, for fear of their injuring themselves. 
 A few which would not eat Indian corn, probably because their 
 teeth had become loose, were debarked very weak, and others 
 much fatigued. All soon recovered, by being permitted to feed 
 freely in hilly pastures in the day, and put under cover at night, 
 until they could be gradually accustomed to remain altogether ia
 
 350 ON THE MERINO SHEEP. 
 
 the field without danger to their health. To habituate them to 
 the climate, I considered one of the most important operations. 
 If a first experiment of a seasonable project fails of success, it 
 leaves many more difficulties to be encountered and obstacles to 
 be surmounted, in all future essays of a similar kind, than if the 
 attempt had never been made. 
 
 In the eastern and middle States, all the circumstances encou 
 rage the practical farmers to increase and improve their breed of 
 sheep. All kinds of soil except marshy, and of air except humid, 
 are friendly to it. This breed, like most or all others, thrives 
 best in uplands and short pastures; but it is reputed to be so sin 
 gularly hardy, as to endure rain, snow, and cold, as well as any 
 northern race; and to support itself in parched southern climates, 
 by feeding on weeds and vegetables which most others would not 
 taste. Without entering into the detail of enriching the land on 
 which they graze or are folded, by their manure, especially where 
 a rotation of crops is systematically pursued, I should not omit to 
 mention, it has been asserted that a moderate sized farm, for ex 
 ample, an hundred acres, skilfully manured, may be made to 
 maintain one hundred sheep, and moreover, to produce as much 
 in crops as it would have done had it been employed only in cul 
 tivation, and not charged with their nourishment. For accom 
 plishing this, it would undoubtedly be indispensable to have a com 
 petent share of knowledge of animal and vegetable nature. From 
 all the inquiries which I have been able to make since my return 
 to America, I have been extremely mortified to find that the 
 breeding of sheep has been much neglected for some time past. 
 It is but too evident a vital impulse is wanted to give new vigour 
 to it : and I cannot but regret that it is not permitted, in the 
 compass of a letter, to dwell more at large on the means, as well 
 as to offer, in a more alluring manner, the motives for restoring 
 that valuable race of animals, which seems to have been bestowed 
 by heaven more peculiarly for the use and comfort of man, than 
 any other, from its present state of decadence. If the limits 
 would allow it to be done, it is believed the discussion would pro 
 duce proof, approaching to demonstration, that no other branch 
 of farming could be carried on in the eastern and middle States 
 with so much advantage to the public, or profit to the individuals 
 concerned, as the raising of sheep. The soil and climate being 
 favourable, the quantity of nutriment and number of stock might 
 be rapidly increased with a little exertion, even to such a degree 
 as to furnish, in a few years, a great proportion of the wool ne 
 cessary for our cloathing. The process is easy and sure, and does 
 not require an uncommon share of skill or intelligence. Some
 
 ON THE MERINO SHEEP, 351 
 
 general instruction, together with patience and perseverance, are 
 alone requisite. The sheep of which I treat, in common with 
 those long since familiarized to our seasons, are rarely liable to 
 diseases or accidents, wlien proper care is taken of them. 
 
 Under the influence of such impressions, I thought I could not 
 perform a more essential service to my country, than to endea 
 vour to impress on the minds of my compatriots, a conviction, 
 that the New-England and neighbouring States are singularly well 
 calculated for raising and maintaining as valuable a race of sheep 
 as any in the world, without incurring any risk of their growing 
 worse. More southern climates, though equally inhabited and 
 cultivated, might not be equally suitable for this object, on account 
 of the immoderate heat. The wool of the best English sheep, in 
 some parts of the West-Indies, is soon converted to a kind of hair. 
 In the new-settled districts of our northern and western territories, 
 wolves must for some time be a formidable enemy. On the con 
 trary, in the before-mentioned States, not only the exemption 
 from the beasts and men accustomed to commit depredations on 
 unguarded fields and folds in some other places, but likewise the 
 method of making enclosures, so that the sheep may easily have 
 a change of pastures in the summer, and the mode of tilling the 
 earth so that an abundance of grasses and roots may be produced 
 for a winter supply, appear to invite the husbandman to pay the 
 most particular attention to this most useful and profitable branch 
 of business. No other cattle will multiply so fast, or with so little 
 cost. The facility and certainty of making vast improvements in 
 a very few years, provided a patriotic and persevering spirit 
 should prevail, on account of the short period in which sheep of 
 all descriptions arrive at maturity, is therefore a consideration 
 which ought not to be overlooked or slighted. Although we have 
 no national or public farms as in France, or grounds belonging to 
 great and rich personages as in England, which are destined to 
 essays in breeding sheep and cattle, or to experiments in useful 
 branches of agriculture ; yet we can have recourse to the results 
 of their experience in the statements which are published, and I 
 believe we have fewer prejudices to contend with in introducing 
 improvements, than the cultivators of any other country. We 
 should, however, be cautious in varying the practice in conformity 
 to the difference of local circumstances. We have a less number 
 of hands for labour, and a greater extent of soil to be cultivated, 
 than most of the nations from which we can receive information 
 er examples. This, however, it is conceived, would not be un 
 favourable to the particular kind of improvement in contempla 
 tion.
 
 352 ON THE MERINO SHEEP. 
 
 To make the meliorating experiments with the Merinos which 
 I imported as complete us might be at the commencement, I have 
 resolved to keep all the ewes together on the same farm, in order 
 that they may be properly taken care of, and that their descendants 
 may retain the original blood entire, until there shall be a sufficient 
 increase for dispersing and continuing the pure race by breeding 
 separately from them. I have concluded, in the mean time, to dis 
 pose of such proportion of the rams as can be spared, to respectable 
 farmers, whose names will be published hereafter, and whose 
 characters will be a pledge that a fair opportunity shall be afforded 
 of producing an improved race by them and American ewes. 
 That rams have been let for the season in England, for from 200 
 to 1000 guineas each, is a fact sufficiently known to those who are 
 acquainted with the history of agricultural proceedings in that 
 country, and demonstrates conclusively the wonderful passion 
 which prevails for bettering the breed. The successful experi 
 ments in France, on the same subject, have been announced in a 
 manner which demands credit. At Rambouillet, a farm originally 
 appropriated for making improvements by the ancient government, 
 which is represented not to be a very good position on account of 
 its humidity, a pure Spanish flock has been maintained for many 
 years, by the attention and care of the superintendants. not only 
 in a perfectly healthy but gradually improving condition, in such 
 sort, that the quality of the wool is as fine as that of the best Me 
 rinos actually in Spain, while the quantity is considerable more 
 than doubled. Where large flocks are kept in the last-mentioned 
 country, the sheep do not produce, upon an average, more than 
 from two to three pounds. The rams at Rambouillet yield 
 from ten to twelve, and the ewes from five to six pounds each. 
 From this stock many small flocks, both of the pure and mixed 
 breeds, have descended. By a separate article in the treaty of 
 Basle, the French government stipulated with that of Spain for 
 the right of extracting 12,000 sheep. There were, some time ago, 
 computed to be, in the territories of the Republic, more than 
 50,000 of the pure race, besides a great number of the improved 
 breed. Several intelligent authors in Europe, who have treated 
 of the most speedy and efficacious modes of improving wool, have 
 stated that, where the smallness of the original stock of Merinos 
 prevents so rapid a propagation of the pure race as could be 
 wished, a mixed breed may be produced by Spanish rams and 
 well-chosen ewes of the country, whose descendants, in the fourth 
 or fifth generation, will yield fleeces nearly or quite as fine as the 
 first quality of those which are produced in Spain. In France 
 the existing government is paying the most zealous attention to
 
 ON THE MERINO SHEEP. 353 
 
 this subject, with the hope of augmenting the quantity of fine 
 wool so much as to supersede the necessity of importations for their 
 manufactures. The importance of an internal supply of the first 
 articles of necessity appears to be more understood and acknow 
 ledged every day, by every civilized nation in the world. It may 
 be asked, How long are we to continue thus like colonies dependant 
 on a mother country ? And will a period never arrive when it 
 will be indispensable to clothe ourselves principally with our own 
 productions and fabrics? 
 
 It is time, in the New-England and neighbouring States much 
 has been done in families, towards providing and preparing their 
 own clothing. No real patriot can behold, without feeling unu 
 sual emotions of pleasure, the employment of the wool cards, the 
 spinning wheels, and the domestic looms, in those nurseries of 
 manufactures. From the manner in which this portion of the 
 country is filled with inhabitants, and the habits of occupation which 
 they acquire from their infancy, I shall not perhaps be too bold 
 in predicting that they will soon make a progress which will sur 
 pass all calculation hitherto formed. We have the materials and 
 dispositions. Destitute of the great sources of riches, which, as 
 it were, inundate our brethren in the south, on industry and eco 
 nomy, in farming, fishing, navigating and manufacturing, must 
 we, in this part of the union, depend, under Providence, for our 
 prosperity. Whoever, then, can add occasions and motives for the 
 practice of industry and economy, cannot fail to be a benefactor. 
 And need any of our farmers despair of being able to produce two 
 fleeces of wool where one only was produced ? The more unequal 
 division of landed property in the Southern States, and the greater 
 profits to be derived from the rich crops of wheat, rice, tobacco 
 and cotton, will naturally tend, for some time at least, to retard 
 the manufacturing business: yet I am happy to learn that, in the 
 interior districts of those States, many excellent articles of cloth 
 ing are fabricated in the household' way. 
 
 The period of a general peace promises more than any other 
 to promote and accelerate the establishment of manufactures. 
 That event, by producing a stagnation in our foreign navigation, 
 nearly closing the avenues to commercial speculations, and dimi 
 nishing the external demands for our provisions, will afford a 
 favourable opportunity to invest a part of the surplus capitals in 
 this manner. The price of labour, which has been too extrava 
 gantly high to be employed in almost any kind of manufactures to 
 advantage, will ultimately conform to that of the necessaries and 
 conveniences of life. When these shall become cheaper in this 
 than any other country, as will probably be the case, die article* 
 2Z
 
 354 OK THE MERINO SHEEP. 
 
 which are manufactured among ourselves cannot be dearer. It is 
 not here the place to inquire whether any or what public encou 
 ragement should be given to one species of labour in preference 
 to another. Nor will I trespass on your time by discussing the 
 points, whether our conduct is to be approved or blamed for hav 
 ing so long postponed the establishment of general manufactories, 
 and depending so much as we have done on foreigners for our 
 woollen goods in particular. These questions would involve a va 
 riety of considerations, and carry my investigations beyond the 
 subjects proposed. It may not, however, be superfluous to say, 
 that our astonishing progress in population, agriculture, com 
 merce, ship-building, and means of intercourse by bridges, roads, 
 and canals, would have led an intelligent and impartial observer 
 to have expected greater proficiency in the handy-craft arts which 
 administer to the clothing of the human body. With the constant 
 increase of internal resources, and the gradual accession of national 
 wealth, this must arrive. In the interim, we shall act wise^, at 
 least, in encouraging the domestic fabrics of homespun garments 
 and coarser hosiery for ordinary winter use* These are not only 
 stronger and warmer, but it is presumed they can be furnished 
 cheaper than those which are imported. In proportion as the 
 wool shall become more fine, the cloth fabricated from it will be 
 finer and more fashionable. Nor will the skill of foreign work 
 men be wanting to its perfection; The increasing demand for the 
 raw material will, in all events, operate as a perpetual stimulus 
 for augmenting and improving our flocks. There is no danger 
 that the market will ever be glutted. All the wool which can be 
 produced in the Country, will be 'manufactured in it. Hence the 
 national industry will be increased with the staple, and a national 
 saving will be made, by stopping the drain of money, which is in 
 cessantly flowing from us to pay for those imported articles that 
 will then be created among ourselves. I do not wish it to be un 
 derstood, that I am an advocate for forcing the formation of great 
 manufacturing establishments, if more gain would accrue to the 
 community from exporting the productions of our land to Europe, 
 and receiving from thence the productions of the work-shops in 
 return. But if we caftnot find a market abroad for our redundant 
 crops, and thus make remittances in payment for our importa 
 tions, will it not be good policy to encourage mechanics and arti 
 ficers to come and consume our provisions, under the supposition 
 that, with the expected cheapness of living, the consequent cheap 
 ness of labour and use of machinery will enable us to be furnished 
 with most of our wearing apparel, within the course of a very 
 few years, more reasonably and satisfactorily in this than any 
 other manner?
 
 ON THE MERINO SHEEP. 355 
 
 From the preceding facts and observations, I flatter myself the 
 following conclusions maybe justly deduced r, 1st, that the intro 
 duction of the Spanish breed of sheep must be a valuable acquisi 
 tion to the inhabitants of our country; 2dly, that this breed is 
 far more precious than any other which has heretofore existed in 
 Europe or America ; 3dly, that the fineness of the wool in Spain 
 does not depend on the food or travelling of the sheep, since as 
 fine wool is produced from this identical race when transferred to 
 other countries or stationary in the same place ; 4thly, that there 
 is no probability this breed will degenerate in those parts of the 
 United States which are as far northward as those in Europe from 
 whence it came ; since the superior qualities of the Merinos seem 
 to depend more on treatment than locality ; 5thly, that tlv.y are 
 hardier, and more easily maintained than most other kinds of 
 sheep ; 6thly, that the eastern and middle States appear peculiarly 
 well adapted for propagating them ; and, 7thly, that their utility 
 is the more manifest from the existence of domestic manufactures 
 to a considerable extent already, and a prospect that this part of 
 the union will, at no very distant period, be distinguished for more 
 ample and general establishments. 
 
 Relieved, as I am, from the more laborious and serious occu 
 pations of public life, I may, perhaps, employ ssme portion of 
 my leisure hours in imparting to others such things as may occur 
 in the pursuits of rural industry and economy, which, in my opi 
 nion, will have a tendency to promote the prosperity of our coun 
 try. If the project of introducing this bi*eed of sheep should be 
 attended with the desired success, that country will be principally 
 benefited by it. In case of failure, no one can be the sufferer but 
 myself. The trouble and expense have been considerable for an 
 individual to incur; but a consciousness of the patriotic motives 
 by which I was actuated, and the anticipation that some national 
 good might be produced by the attempt, have furnished no incon 
 siderable compensation. With such fruition and perspective on 
 my part, it only remains for me to offer my ardent wishes for the 
 promotion of the objects which claim the immediate patronage of 
 your Society, together with the assurances of the sincere regard 
 and esteem with which I have the honour to be, 
 Sir, 
 
 Your most obedient and most humble servant, 
 
 D. HUMPHREYS, 
 To Dr. AARON DEXTER, 
 
 One of the Vice-Presidents of the Massachusetts 
 Society for promoting Agriculture.
 
 35$ ON THE MERINO SHEEP. 
 
 P. S. If you should obtain any accurate knowledge of the 
 otter breed of sheep which has lately made its appearance in your 
 State, I shall be much obliged by your communicating the facts to 
 me. Should it be true that this is a new race, totally distinct in 
 its formation from all others before existing on the globe, its re 
 cent origin, which can be traced, presents a phenomenon in na 
 tural histo ry worthy of being thoroughly investigated. 
 
 At a meeting of the Trustees of the Massachusetts Society for 
 promoting Agriculture, August 28, 1802, a letter was read 
 from Colonel Humphreys, late Minister at the Court of Spain, 
 to the second Vice-President, upon the subject of the Merino 
 breed of sheep, of which he has imported into the State of Con 
 necticut seventy-five ewes and twenty-five rams, with a speci 
 men of their wool, and upon the importance of propagating 
 said breed in the northern and eastern States, Etc. &c. 
 
 Voted, That the thanks of the Trustees be presented to Co 
 lonel Humphreys for his valuable and interesting communication 
 this day made, and that the second Vice-President be requested 
 to present the same, and furnish him with a copy of this vote. 
 
 Extract from the Minutes. 
 (Attest) S. PARKER, Corresponding Sec'ry.
 
 ( 357 ) 
 
 A LETTER FROM THE REV. DOCTOR PARKER. 
 
 t Boston, December 15, 1802. 
 
 Son. DAVID HUMPHREYS, Esq. 
 SIR, 
 
 1 HE Trustees of the Massachusetts Society for promoting Agri 
 culture, at their meeting, held October 29, 1802, voted that a 
 Gold Medal be presented to you by said Society, for your patriotic 
 exertions in introducing into New-England one hundred of the 
 Spanish Merino breed of Sheep ; and appointed me a Committee 
 to procure and transmit the same to you. 
 
 It is with pleasure I have executed this commission, and now 
 transmit to you the Medal accompanying this; and, in the name 
 of the Trustees, request your acceptance of the same, as a small 
 testimony of the high sense they entertain of your merit in ac 
 complishing this arduous enterprize. 
 I have the honour to be, 
 
 With sentiments of the highest esteem and respect, 
 Your most obedient and very humble servant, 
 
 (Signed) S. PARKER, Corresponding Sec'ry. 
 
 THE ANSWER. 
 
 New-Haw en, Ajfiril^ 1803. 
 The Rev. S. PARKER, D. D. 
 SIR, 
 
 U PON my arrival in this city yesterday, I received the Medal 
 in gold, which the Trustees of the Massachusetts Society for 
 promoting Agriculture did me the honour to present to me from 
 that Society, in consequence of my having introduced into New- 
 England a small flock of the Merino breed of sheep ; accompa 
 nied by your highly esteemed letter, dated at Boston, on the 15th 
 of December last. 
 
 I request you will be pleased, Sir, to express to the respectable 
 Society of which you are the Corresponding Secretary, the great 
 sensibility with which I accept this distinguished token of their 
 flattering approbation. 
 
 Should our mutual hope and expectation of meliorating the 
 breed of sheep in America, by the introduction of this race, be
 
 358 LETTER TO DR. PARKER. 
 
 fulfilled, I shall consider myself peculiarly fortunate for having 
 been instrumental in producing an event, from which I shall de 
 rive more pleasure and consolation than from any other transac 
 tion of my life. In all cases, I shall find an inexhaustible source of 
 satisfaction in a recollection of the motives for the importation on 
 my part, and the appreciation of them on that of your Society. 
 
 Since my return from the seat of government I have not visited 
 my Merinos, which are about eight miles distant from this place. 
 I propose to see them soon ; and should, any thing have occurred 
 that may be interesting to your Society, I shall take the liberty of 
 writing to you. 
 
 My friend, to whose care the Medal was addressed, did not 
 think proper to forward it to me, while on my journey, for fear 
 of accidents. My absence, somewhat longer than was calculated, 
 must therefore be offered as an apology for my not having acknow 
 ledged the receipt of your letter at an earlier period. For your 
 ti'ouble in executing the commission, as well as for your politeness 
 in making the communication, I beg leave, at this late hour, to 
 tender my sincere thanks, together with the respectful assm^ances 
 of the great consideration and esteem with which I have the 
 honour to be, 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Your most devoted and most humble servant, 
 
 D. HUMPHREYS.
 
 CONSIDERATIONS 
 
 ON THE 
 
 MEANS OF IMPROVING 
 
 THE PUBLIC DEFENCE 
 
 IN A LETTER TO 
 
 MIS EXCELLENCY 
 GOVERNOR TRUMBULL.
 
 I 
 
 CONSIDERATIONS, &c. 
 
 Boston, September 23, 1803. 
 MY DEAR SIR, 
 
 CALLED to pay my respects to your Excellency at your lodg 
 ings in this town the morning on which you left us, and found 
 that you had even exceeded your usual punctuality, by anticipating 
 the hour which was fixed for your departure. For this disap 
 pointment I then hoped to have been indemnified by the satisfac 
 tion of a meeting in New-Haven at the public Commencement;* 
 but my regrets were still to be protracted, as some unforeseen 
 causes prevented me from making my intended journey. Although 
 I now promise myself the gratification of an interview during 
 the next session of your Legislature, yet I have deemed it not 
 amiss to recal myself to your friendly remembrance, in submit 
 ting to your judgment a few of my reflections on the best means 
 of conciliating economy and protection, by the organization of an 
 efficient and disposable force. 
 
 I know not what author has observed, that from the frequent 
 hostilities between nations, one would almost be tempted to be 
 lieve, a state of war, rather than peace, is natural to our species. 
 In such a world as ours, it is impossible but that disputes will 
 arise ; and where there is no common arbiter to decide, they must 
 often be settled by an appeal to arms. Mankind, in civil society, 
 when under a free government, must be prepared to protect their 
 liberty and property, or expect to lose them. We should not 
 presume upon being exempted from the lot of humanity. Ought 
 we not then to improve the means which heaven has placea in 
 our hands for self-protection ? A national force is indispensable. 
 Its constitution and character are of the highest import. In our 
 times, armies are, in a certain sense, machines their action, re 
 action, momentum, and effect, subjects of calculation. Sages, 
 ever provident, have spent much time in endeavouring to find the 
 best projects of defence. Savages, untroubled with thought for 
 the morrow, are pushed on to action, promiscuously or separately, 
 
 * The Commencement for conferring Degrees at Yale College. 
 
 3A
 
 362 ON THE PUBLIC DEFENCE. 
 
 by passion or revenge. Among these tribes of hunters and war 
 riors, little that merits the name of plan can be expected. In 
 polished societies, improved as they now are in the arts of attack 
 and defence, there is no alternative but a standing army or 
 organized militia. That liberty has often been destroyed by po 
 pular leaders at the head of the former, has been too frequently 
 and fully demonstrated by history to require new proofs or illus 
 trations. A well-constituted force of the latter kind, without en 
 dangering the liberty of a country, may be an adequate substitute 
 until the moment of a war shall have arrived. Even after the 
 commencement of hostility, the enthusiasm of such troops will sup 
 ply the want of habitual discipline in the field, until an army can 
 be formed. But where a good militia does not previously exist, 
 almost insuperable obstacles will be encountered in the advances 
 towards a regular establishment. Nor should an army for the 
 war be too long delayed, as it was in our revolutionary contest. 
 Then our honest, but unexperienced rulers, were so much more 
 alarmed at the vei*y name of a standing army to be raised from 
 their countrymen, than they were at the ravages of the enemy, as 
 to neglect levying soldiers for the war until our cause was reduced 
 to extreme danger. They long thought the country might be pro 
 tected by militia, serving in rotation, or levies, enrolled on short 
 inlistments ; notwithstanding General Washington, in almost the 
 first communication he made to Congress, foretold the fatal con 
 sequences which were likely to happen, and endeavoured, by all 
 the means in his power, to avert them. 
 
 We know, by experience, the miseries of war, and therefore 
 must have the greater relish for the blessings of peace. But we 
 have not heretofore been left to our option. Hostility was once 
 forced upon us. More recently, England and France sought by 
 turns to involve us in their quarrel. Greater provocations may 
 yet occur. If the respect for General Washington's public and 
 private character, when he possessed the whole confidence of the 
 United States as their President, was hardly sufficient to prevent 
 us from being hurried into a war, may we not i*ationally dread 
 that any other administration, under similar circumstances, would 
 find a still more difficult task to maintain our neutrality I Having 
 such an extensive navigation so imperfectly protected, and so 
 many delicate points of contact with the present belligerent powers, 
 as to enemy's property and blockaded ports, happy indeed shall 
 we be, if permitted to increase our riches without interruption, 
 amidst the desperate conflicts of rival and enraged nations. Can 
 any thing contribute more to the attainment of this object than 
 for us to assume a dignified attitude of defence j and, in proving.
 
 ON THE PUBLIC DEFENCE. 563 
 
 trar decided predilection for peace, to convince those who may 
 flare to provoke us beyond the limits of sufferance, that we are 
 always prepared for Avar ? I hope we shall be so far from seek 
 ing pretexts for hostility, that we shall most sedulously strive to 
 avoid every snare that might entangle us in it. I hope we shall 
 never be reluctant or tardy to engage in a righteous cause, when 
 ever it cannot be avoided but by an infamous dereliction of princi 
 ple or sacrifice of honour. And, in such a crisis, I trust, by the 
 benediction of heaven, that we shall come forward to meet our 
 enemies with a portion of courage and unanimity which has never 
 been surpassed in the annals of mankind. But God forbid we 
 should ever be so infatuated as to swell the black catalogue of 
 crimes, and augment the hereditary ills of our race, by the wan 
 ton effusion of human blood from motives of ambition, conquest, 
 and aggrandisement. 
 
 Notwithstanding the vaunted perfectibility of human nature, 
 we cannot conceal from ourselves, that the rage of domination 
 still invents excuses for aggression. Lessons, on invasions of 
 peaceable and distant States, are too distinctly printed in charac 
 ters of blood, not to be legible. Addressing a person of less his 
 torical knowledge and political forecast than your Excellency, I 
 might have adverted to the tremendous events which have lately 
 occurred on the other side of the Atlantic. Without displaying 
 fictitious scenes of distress, to agitate the terrified imagination, 
 I would have said, " let us turn our eyes to the records of Hol 
 land, Italy and Switzerland ! Shall we there see no awful moni 
 tions in the pages, no ghastly figures in the prints? Shall we, 
 struck with judicial blindness, not be able to read, for our own 
 benefit, the book of their destinies? Or rests the day in darkness 
 ere long to dawn on our encrimsoned land, when we too, by want 
 of military spirit and national union, shall become the vile vassals 
 of insiduous and powerful invaders, and be comprehended in the 
 ignominious list of those degraded States which have lost their 
 independent rank among the nations of the earth ? No ; never 
 shall mortal eye witness that sight. If we will but be faithful to 
 ourselves; if, with one soul, we will add energy to the martial 
 system, and, with millions of hands, cement to the federal fabric, 
 then may we, in defence of our rights, defy a world in arms." 
 
 Who can count upon the stable enjoyment of peace, in the con 
 vulsed situation of Europe? While the English government is so 
 seriously preparing to repel an invasion which threatens its very 
 existence; while the inhabitants of the British Islands are induced 
 to make unprecedented sacrifices in time and money for defence; 
 while France presents such a colossial force as appears to overawe
 
 364 ON THE PUBLIC DEFENCE. 
 
 the old world; and while the fate of nations depends more than 
 at any former epocha on their dastardly and ignorant, or bold and 
 skilful use of arms; shall we, who, under the fostering smiles of 
 an indulgent Providence, have nobly defended our rights and vin 
 dicated our independence by jeoparding our lives in the field, 
 suffer that spark of heroism to expire? Though smothered, it 
 shall brighten. The sons of such sires, whenever their country 
 shall be in danger, will feel this inextinguishable heat more ar 
 dently rekindled in their glowing breasts. But however highly 
 excited, unless skilfully managed and directed, will it accomplish 
 the desired end? To render the heroic ardour really useful, dis 
 cipline must be united with courage. When a nation, like ours, 
 is peculiarly favoured by heaven with the fruition of freedom and 
 happiness, it becomes one of its highest obligations, to discover 
 and put in execution the best measures for their preservation. 
 To despise this precaution would be madness. 
 
 What then is to be done ? A wise policy requires no regular 
 troops with us, in time of peace, but garrisons for our posts, forts, 
 and arsenals. We shall not be necessitated to have any descrip* 
 tion of men detached or distinct from the rest of the community 
 in their interests or feelings. This felicity results from our local 
 position, surrounded by water and wilderness, and so remote from 
 the warlike powers of Europe, that no expedition could approach 
 us without our having timely notice. The case is far different with 
 them, since the system of standing armies has been introduced in 
 modern times, each is obliged to incur the expense of such an esta 
 blishment, as a defence against the sudden aggressions of its neigh 
 bours. Instead of adopting the Lacedemonian mode of forming 
 a whole people to arms by education, the military profession has 
 been confined, and the safety of the State committed to mercena 
 ries, conscripts, substitutes, and volunteers. In the present pe 
 culiar state of Europe, it is true, armed nations appear to be 
 becoming once more the order of the day. Our youths, born un 
 der other circumstances, and brought up to different occupations, 
 need not be nourished by the Spartan black broth to harden their 
 constitutions, or be tutored to martial exercise as a business for 
 life. Standing armies live upon the fruits of the labour of others, 
 and contribute little to the subsistence, wealth, or embellishment 
 of their country. The courage and industry of bees present a 
 distinguished pattern for imitation : like them, with us all should 
 be employed in defending the commonwealth and collecting sub 
 stance for the common stock. With us, all should be soldiers as 
 well as citizens. Not indeed in that ridiculous acceptation of the 
 terms, which supposes the character of the former so naturally
 
 ON THE PUBLIC DEFENCE. 365 
 
 connected with the character of the latter, that nothing farther is 
 necessary than proudly calling them by these significant names. 
 When it was proposed that certain classes of the militia, between 
 given ages, should be encamped some weeks annually, for the 
 purpose of acquiring a knowledge of tactics and manoeuvres from 
 practice, the proposal Avas rejected, principally on account of the 
 loss of time to the individuals, and the cost of maintenance to the 
 States. It was moreover objected to the plan, that the youths, col 
 lected together at a gay season of life, and exposed to licentious 
 amusements at the intervals of duty, might be in danger of con 
 tracting habits of indolence and dissipation. These difficulties will 
 not be easily overcome. Yet, without opportunity and practice, it is 
 impossible to learn the first rudiments of the ai't of war. An armed 
 crowd, insubordinate and undisciplined, is but a mob on which no 
 dependence can be placed. If we will not have an efficacious force 
 of a better description, we shall have a standing army. An ill- 
 timed saving, which should prevent the militia from becoming that 
 efficacious force , would be the worst sort of prodigality, and would 
 be utterly incompatible with those true principles of frugality by 
 which our State has always been governed. General Washington, 
 dreading the disasters of supineness, had few projects nearer to 
 his heart, than that of providing a safe and competent defence, 
 in time of peace, for the security of the country in time of war. 
 Your Excellency has frequently heard him express the most fer 
 vent wishes that this might be effected before the knowledge ob 
 tained in our revolutionary war should be lost with the lives of 
 those who served in it. Happily his advice has been of some avail 
 in the formation of the outlines of our general militia establish 
 ment. To the improvement of this system we must look for our 
 principal protection. 
 
 The Legislatures of the several States AVI 11 undertake this task 
 with eagerness or reluctance, according as they shall consider it 
 of greater or smaller importance. To recommend the policy to 
 ours, little need be said. The State Avhich shall have the best 
 militia will not be the least respected by its neighbours or fo 
 reigners. Negligence in making a suitable provision for that pin- 
 pose, may not improbably be followed by repentance. No terri 
 tory furnishes better subjects for military service than Connecticut. 
 Its compact and populous settlement in toAvns offers some facility 
 for their exercising under arms. Few troops are distinguished 
 by more favourable dispositions and capacities for acquiring a 
 knowledge of the profession. Our citizens, among whom property- 
 is more equally divided than among any other people in the world, 
 have more of the comforts of life to make them robust, and fewer
 
 S66 ON THE PUBLIC DEFENCE. 
 
 luxuries to render them effeminate, than most others. Compe 
 tence is universal superfluity rare. This is the natural course 
 of things in a State where the greater part of the inhabitants are 
 employed in cultivating the soil which belongs to themselves ; and 
 where the rest, chiefly composed of mechanics, merchants, and 
 professional men, likewise gain an honest livelihood by their own 
 labour. Thus industrious and hardy by education and habit, they 
 will experience little inconveniency in becoming practical soldiers; 
 since from docility, sobriety, and energy of character, they have 
 always been found, when brought to the trial, apt for enterprize, 
 patient of fatigue, and undaunted in danger. 
 
 The general government has judiciously adopted a uniform plan 
 for organizing, arming, and disciplining the militia of the seve 
 ral States. On their separate governments has devolved the duty 
 of giving effect to the system. It is not for me to relate the dif 
 ferent degrees of success with which their measures have been 
 attended in the various districts of the union. Bodies of militia 
 are every where to be seen. But of what utility to the public de 
 fence are such bodies, unless animated by a military SPIRIT? 
 Without it, they are cadaverous and languid with it, florid and 
 vigorous. 
 
 In my judgment, militia are treated by officers of regular 
 armies, and particularly by French officers, with a degree of con 
 tempt they do not deserve. I have heard some of the latter, most 
 conversant in the theory and practice of war, assert, that no pos 
 sible multitude of militia could oppose a successful resistance to 
 even a small number of veterans. When the victories of their 
 countrymen, at the commencement of their revolution, were ob 
 jected in confutation of the maxim, they remarked that the na- 
 tional guards had such an abundance of engineers, artillerists, of 
 ficers, and privates from the ancient royal army mixed in their 
 composition, as to constitute them, in a qualified sense, disciplined 
 forces. It is certain thei'e is an immense difference between dis 
 ciplined and undisciplined militia. Your Excellency will readily 
 understand that I entertain no good opinion of an armed nation, 
 destitute of order and skill. Whenever such a nation should be 
 made to rise en masse, instead of furnishing the expected sup 
 port, it would, like every other enormous structure raised on 
 rotten foundations, be crushed by its own weight. It is precisely 
 to avoid the risk of such a catastrophe, that our militia, who are 
 to be relied upon for the defence of the government of their own 
 choice, for the defence of their institutions and laws, their tem 
 ples and dwellings, their wives and children, every thing dear 
 and sacred, should not only be long and well accustomed to the use
 
 ON THE PUBLIC DEFENCE. 367 
 
 of fire arms, by shooting at marks, but shoald also be trained to 
 such short yet systematic manoeuvres and evolutions as would 
 enable them to meet, upon equal terms, their foes in the field. 
 
 I believe our ELITE, if I may so call it, consisting of the 
 cavalry, artillery, grenadier and light-infantry companies, with 
 small improvement by practice, if put in competition with regular 
 troops, would not suffer by the comparison. The composition of 
 these corps, as to officers and privates, could scarcely be better. 
 They are completely armed, equipped, and clothed ; and the dra 
 goons are as well mounted as the dragoons in most services in Eu 
 rope. Your Excellency will recollect with me, how useful our 
 old militia troopers were, in the early stages of our revolution, 
 before the establishment of a regular cavalry. Since that time 
 our resources for obtaining supplies, as well as our manufacture 
 of arms and breed of horses, have been almost infinitely improved. 
 The rapid movement of the before mentioned corps, if they should 
 be previously formed together for that object, would, at the com 
 mencement of an invasion, gain time for the rest of the force of 
 the country to rally for its defenee. 
 
 Every prudent government should study to make every pre 
 paration that is practicable before a war shall take place, for the 
 purpose of preventing that delay of march, waste of stores, and 
 confusion in action, which would otherwise be inevitable. No 
 longer ago than the last session of Congress, the consideration of 
 this important subject of ameliorating the public force was re 
 sumed ; and, in consequence of their deliberations, the President, 
 in his circular communication to the executives of the respective 
 States, recommended it, with cogent arguments, to prompt atten 
 tion. Ait a time so pregnaat with events, it is hoped that an ob 
 ject so prominent in itself, and which possesses the uncommon 
 advantage of uniting all parties in its favour, will not be neglected. 
 It is even hoped that there will be no opposition to making such 
 farther provision, not burdensome to the State or its citizens, for 
 annual reviews, uniform clothing, and exercising days, as cannot 
 fail to have an influence in perfecting the system of national de 
 fence. 
 
 To have great bodies of troops more frequently under arms, in 
 presence of numerous and respectable spectators, reviewed by 
 officers of high rank and reputation, who will compare their ap 
 pearance, equipments, and manoeuvres, must furnish new motives 
 for exciting them to excel. The desire of being approved, for 
 conscious excellence, by those whose characters we respect, is 
 inherent in every breast not callous to all the feelings of honour 
 and shame. Most men have a natural fondness for the splendid
 
 368 ON THE PUBLIC DEFENCE. 
 
 show and grand parade of military reviews. Here private re 
 creation may be turned to public advantage. In general, no peo 
 ple appear more sensible to merited applause than the Ame 
 ricans. This passion is a powerful stimulus to improvement. In 
 addition to the advantages resulting from the ordinary trainings 
 and inspections as now practised, the passing of reviews in a 
 more imposing manner would have the happiest effect. Some 
 States, I understand, have considerably expensive establishments 
 of inspection. With us no Inspector-General has been appointed, 
 apparently from an objection to the expense. If, then, the ser 
 vices could be performed without charge to the State, the objec 
 tion would cease. The States, having the regulation of their 
 staff, have always, I believe, constituted their Governors Cap 
 tains-General and Commanders in Chief; and the Lieutenant- 
 Governors have frequently been invested with the rank of Lieu 
 tenants-General. They would doubtless have the faculty of pass 
 ing their troops in review. But it will sometimes happen that nei 
 ther of them have been military men. Nor, if they were pro 
 fessionally competent, might it be convenient for them annually to 
 visit all parts of the State where the regiments, brigades, and di 
 visions could be most easily assembled. Might not a new arrange 
 ment into large departments facilitate the accomplishment of the 
 same purpose, by other means, with less inconveniency ? If your 
 four divisions should be formed into two wings; and your eight 
 regiments of cavalry, with the artillery, grenadier and light-in 
 fantry companies, into one corps ; the two first under the com 
 mand of two officers, and the last under the command of one of 
 ficer, of superior grades, as Lieutenants to the Captain-General 
 and inspectors e.v officio, might not great benefits be expected 
 from their inspections and reviews, without any expense to the 
 State? These officers to receive their orders and instructions 
 from the Captain-General. And would not the celerity, regu 
 larity, and efficiency of operations be promoted by adopting an ar 
 rangement for commands similar to those which exist, according 
 to the best of my knowledge, in every foreign state which has a 
 military force, even inferior to our own ? 
 
 With such motives for emulation as would then be offered, and 
 with a little indirect aid to assist in purchasing clothing, it is to be 
 presumed that the whole body of militia, well armed and equip 
 ped, might be got into full uniform in the course of one or two 
 years. Those who have not witnessed the contrast between uni 
 formed troops and motley militia, will not readily appreciate the 
 astonishing consequence which is attached to the article of dress. 
 There are, perhaps, visionary theorists who have spent their
 
 ON THE PUBLIC DEFENCE. 369 
 
 days in their closets, and honest husbandmen who have scarcely- 
 moved from their farms, who will demand, in all the assurance 
 of triumph, whether real patriots cannot shoot as directly at the 
 enemy, and fight as well for their country under one garb as an 
 other? We must recur for the decision, in its general result, 
 from speculation and prejudice to expei'ience and fact. The 
 practice of all civilized nations gives their answer. Yet, by de 
 ciding general'y in the negative, it should not be denied there 
 may be particular moments of enthusiasm which form an excep 
 tion. But wise men calculate less, in a long struggle, upon mo 
 mentary impulse than permanent principle. We must judge 
 from what has been, what will be. Hum?.n nature should be taken 
 as a basis of calculation as it exists, not as presented through the 
 medium of distorting imaginations. 
 
 There pppears to be a species of factitious as well as of natural 
 courage. Some brilliant distinctions, such as are furnished by 
 standards and uniforms, have, in all modern times, tended to 
 create an esprit du corfis; whence emanates a moral that aug 
 ments the physical force. Thus individuals recognize, with plea 
 sure, the members, as it were, identified with the body. And 
 while they contribute their joint efforts in a common cause, they 
 feel themselves mightily strengthened by mutual dependence. Sea 
 men and soldiers, of any nation, who in their aggregate charac 
 ter believe themselves invincible, have gained a great point to 
 wards becoming so in reality. What can equal the confidence of 
 the Englirh at sea, or the French on land, but their success? 
 Where there is no discrimination in apparel, each will entertain 
 as good an opinion of himself as of his companions, and rush 
 boldly to the performance of gallant exploits, in hopes of sharing 
 in the common glory. Men, naturally of weak nerves, by an ar 
 tificial association of ideas, may be made mechanically brave. It 
 is certain, sppe^rnnce sometimes influences opinion. A decent 
 yeomanry in uniform will feel more self-respect, than a dissolute 
 rabble in rags. 
 
 The preference generally given to such of our corps as are 
 dressed in uniform, is principally attributable to their dress. All 
 the others would probably soon be clothed in uniform, upon being 
 exempted from the poll-tax, in consequence of their procuring 
 such clothing. At the last October session of your Legislature, 
 I vfis surprised to observe a clause to this effect, after it had 
 passed in the house of representatives, upon re-consideration, re 
 scinded. I could not conjecture why this negative encouragement 
 should be withheld. It was conceded, that this measure would 
 have been greatly instrumental in giving a soldier-like appearance 
 
 3B
 
 370 ON THE PUBLIC DEFENCE. 
 
 to the whole body of militia ; and that the State was not extremely 
 in want of this pittance, since so far from being in debt, it had a 
 considerable sum of money in its treasury. Besides, this policy 
 must have been satisfactory to a great majority of their constitu 
 ents, because it would have been altogether favourable to the mid 
 dling and poorer classes of people. 
 
 The inhabitants of Connecticut are probably more economical 
 of time, than those of any other State. I shall not propose any 
 thing which might encroach largely upon it. They allow them 
 selves no holidays, and few amusements. The excess in the first 
 article is a vast disadvantage in some countries. Yet reasonable 
 relaxation from the fatigue of business is necessary to all man 
 kind. Perhaps a few days set apart among us, and celebrated 
 by military exhibitions, in commemoration of national events, 
 would be rather beneficial than detrimental. To claim this dis 
 tinction, three anniversaries have particularly presented them- 
 se'ves as having a reference to our ancestors, ourselves, and our 
 posterity. These are, the 22d of December, the day of the land 
 ing of the first settlers in New-England the 19th of April, the 
 day of the battle of Lexington and the 4th of July, the day of 
 the Declaration of Independence. If any more interesting should 
 occur in lieu of these, they might be adopted. Any objection 
 which might be made on account of the diminution of labour, 
 would be too contemptible to be entitled to a serious reply. No 
 trade or profession can be learned without an allowance of time 
 for learning it. The military art, I mean that part of it which is 
 necessary to be known by soldiers, is not so simple and easy as to 
 come instinctively without practice, or so complicated and difficult 
 as to present any notable discouragements in its acquisition. But 
 no one acquainted with the subject will pretend that a few more 
 days are not necessary than are at present appropriated by law. 
 If liberty be worth enjoying, it is worth defending. And if it be 
 demonstrable, liberty cannot, in any other way, be so well de 
 fended as by an organized and disciplined force, safe by its con 
 stitution, and efficacious by its capacity, like the militia in contem 
 plation; dull of comprehension must he be indeed, a miser in 
 soul, and an idiot in policy, who should begrudge the moderate 
 means requisite for the perfection of such a force. 
 
 In all ages men have been dexterous and indefatigable in sys 
 tematizing the science of mischief. Human ingenuity has been 
 put to the torture to invent expeditious modes of destruction : so 
 eager are short-lived moi'tals to abbreviate the work of death. 
 Why should not the machinations intended for the annoyance of 
 mankind be as dexterously turned to their protection ? Whether
 
 ON THE PUBLIC DEFENCE. 571 
 
 the discovery of the stupendous powers and murderous uses of 
 gun-powder has caused engagements to be sooner decided and less 
 sanguinary or not, it has at least been instrumental in altering 
 the management of warfare and the conduct of campaigns. 
 Strength and weakness, as physical qualities in man, have been 
 reduced in their operations nearly to a level. From a distance, 
 the dwarf can overthrow the giant. Prowess has often less to do 
 in gaining victories than evolution. It has been said, the French 
 Generals, young in years, old in conquests, despised the tactics 
 of their enemies, and vanquished by prodigies of valour. On the 
 contrary, those Generals, more than others, calculated on, and 
 profited by, the discipline of mind as well as body. Different im 
 pulses prevailed in actuating the soldiery at different periods of 
 the revolution first the spring of enthusiasm next the reign of 
 terror and, last, the name of the great nation. And, moreover, 
 the French troops, in the rapidity of their marches, and the ex 
 actness of their co-operations, as it were, multiplied their num 
 bers, by presenting themselves at various points of attack almost 
 at the identical moment, and contributed to the triumph of their 
 arms not less by the precision of their manoeuvres than the impe 
 tuosity of their assaults. 
 
 From the preceding observations result three suggestions : 1st, 
 Whether it would not be useful to form the four divisions into two 
 wings, and the cavalry, together with the companies before men 
 tioned, into one corps, (this corps to remain attached to their re 
 giments and brigades, unless otherwise ordered by the Captain- 
 General) to be reviewed by officers of superior grades, named for 
 the purpose : 2dly, To exempt from poll-taxes all who shall pro 
 duce certificates of their being completely equipped and clothed 
 in uniform : and, Sdly, To appropriate a few additional days for 
 military exercise. 
 
 The wonderful effect of warlike sounds in animating the cou 
 rage of soldiers is universally acknowledged. By their modula 
 tion and unison, signals may be given and movements regulated, 
 In martial music we are far inferior to the Europeans. I never 
 heard a good band in America. If I did not apprehend the suc 
 cess to be almost hopeless, I would urge, in the strongest terms, 
 the expediency of procuring and maintaining, by the fines for de 
 linquency, or in such other manner as shall be judged best, at 
 least one good band of music for each military division. Without 
 a general provision by the Legislature, the partial efforts of of 
 ficers can never accomplish this object. If lotteries be ever ad- 
 missable, this occasion seems to invite a supply from that popular 
 j?aode of contribution, Besides raising a fund for the last men-
 
 372 ON THE PUBLIC DEFENCE. 
 
 tioned object, might not the scheme be so contrived as that the 
 low prizes should be paid to the proprietors of fortunate tickets, in 
 handsome uniforms, at a cheap rate, if preferred to cash? 
 
 Thus have I attempted to show how armed citizens, without 
 being torn from their occupations in time of peace, and without 
 disappointing the public expectations at the commencement of a 
 war, may be made really capable of defending their country until 
 another force can be substituted. A militia without energy is a sa 
 tire on its friends, and a mockery to its foes. A people so aban 
 doned to avarice and apostate from patriotism, as to refuse mak 
 ing those few preparatory sacrifices in time and money, which may 
 be necessary for their defence, are unworthy of independence. 
 
 Notwithstanding all we have heard of new doctrines, we hsve 
 been taught, and we have believed, that in the proper use of hu 
 man means, our highest help and last reliance is on the GOD of 
 SAffLES. In him our forefathers, when few in numbers, and 
 feeble in resources, trusted, and were not deceived. What can 
 be more glorious than heroic achievements in a just cause? A 
 war in such a cause may be waged under the auspices of heaven 
 itself. The Holy One, who inhabits Eternity, has not disdained 
 to style himself the Lord of Hosts, or to go forth to battle with 
 the armies of his people. Invoking his name, confiding in his 
 strength, and marching under- the banners of independence, in 
 the day of difficulty will we resort to his Sanctuary. I am afraid 
 we have not been grateful enough to that Almighty Protector who 
 has caused us to dwell in tranquillity, while so many nations hr.ve 
 been grievously afflicted wuh the calamities of war. A nation 
 without religion and morals, is always ripening fast for that state 
 of corruption which often precedes decay, and terminates in 
 ruin. Under a due conviction of our relations, dependencies, 
 and duties, may we never neglect to avail ourselves of all those 
 means which the experience of mankind and our own reason point 
 out as best calculated for the preservation of our inestimable civil 
 and religious privileges! 
 
 Persuaded that your Excellency will receive with indigence 
 this prolix letter, from an ancient and intimate associate in arms, 
 on a subject so analogous to our former employment, I conclude, 
 without farther apology, in repeating the professions of the unal 
 terable attachment and perfect consideration with which I have 
 the honour to be, 
 
 Your sincere friend and humble servant, 
 
 D. HUMPHREYS.
 
 MEMORIAL 
 
 OF THE 
 
 SOCIETY OF THE CINCINNATI 
 
 IN CONNECTICUT. 
 
 To the Honourable the General Assembly of the State of Con 
 necticut, to be holden at New-Haven, on the second Thursday 
 of October, A. D. 1803. 
 
 -A HE undersigned memorialists, authorised on the part of the 
 Society of Cincinnati in said State, to solicit that the Legislature 
 would be pleased to nass an act of incorporation in their favour, 
 so for only as relates to the security of their fund for the purposes 
 originally intended, beg leave respectfully to i-epresent, That at 
 the conclusion of the long and arduous contest which terminated 
 so gloriously in the acknowledgment of the independence of the 
 United States, the Society of which your memorialists are, on 
 this occasion, the orgrm, was formed by the voluntary association 
 of the officers of the Connecticut line, in the army, from motives 
 of friendship and charity : 
 
 That they were particularly induced to form this union by a 
 desire to cultivate, in the tranquillity of peace, those friendly dis 
 positions which had been produced under a participation of com 
 mon sufferings and dangers in the midst of the troubles of war; 
 and of furnishing, from a fund to be created for the purpose, such 
 pecuniary aids as the pressing necessities of any of the associates 
 or their families might require : 
 
 That for the sake of giving effect to the first mentioned object, 
 viz. cultivating the friendships thus contracted, they agreed t 
 celebrate their festival on the anniversary of independence; at 
 which time they have been in the habit of assembling: and that 
 for the more effectual accomplishment of the second mentioned 
 object, viz. assisting with pecuniary aids their necessitous asso 
 ciates and families, all the members contributed one month's pay 
 of their respective grades.
 
 3X4 MEMORIAL OF THE CINCINNATI. 
 
 All the world knows that the army was disbanded under pecu 
 liar circumstances of hardship and distress, on account of the 
 arrears of wages due to them at the time ; and that the anticipa 
 tions of many meritorious officers, in regard to future scenes of 
 indigence, have been but too fully realized. It was then wise in 
 the officers to have joined in creating a fund for the relief of 
 those who might be, from untoward accidents, reduced to inevi 
 table misfortunes. This resource may, without wounding their 
 feelings, be shared by those unfortunate individuals whose high 
 notions of honour, fostered by long military service, would rather 
 leave them to starve, perish, and be forgotten, than to beg their 
 bread through a country their valour had been exerted to save : 
 and such there are, on whom the heavy hand of poverty would 
 have fallen with insupportable weight, had not the pressure been 
 alleviated by the cheering help of that very Society which now 
 seeks Legislative protection for the fund from whence it proceeds. 
 A part of the interest of that fund is annually appropriated to the 
 use of some decayed or superannuated officers of your line, who 
 having been thrown out of their ordinary pursuits of business by 
 the war, were afterwards unable to gain a livelihood by new oc 
 cupations, either on account of their age or infirmity, and for 
 whose declining days no particular provision was made by their 
 country. Dutiful and industrious daughters have been aided in 
 maintaining an aged and debilitated father. Desolated widows 
 have received a support, and helpless orphans an education : and, 
 in more than one instance, some comfort has been attempted to 
 be administered to the hoary veteran, deprived of reason by the 
 awful visitation of heaven. Delicacy forbids a public specification 
 of names ; but the archives of the Society, which are open to in 
 spection, attest the facts. Another charitable fund, equal to such 
 effects, would not be easily established; that in question, if de 
 stroyed, would not be replaced; and certainly the contemplation 
 of its destruction could afford no satisfaction to any feeling breast. 
 More than twenty years have elapsed since the Society of Cin 
 cinnati has existed. The associates humbly conceive they have 
 not belied, by their actions, the avowed motives of their institu 
 tion. If proofs of the rectitude of their intentions were wanting, 
 they might, perhaps, without arrogance, refer to their conduct 
 as citizens as well as soldiers. In war, in peace, they have found 
 safety in relying on each other. They ask no guarantee for that 
 branch of their social institution in which their amity is alone 
 concerned. The purity with which their fund has hitherto been 
 managed, is calculated to inspire a confidence in the future appli 
 cation of that precious pledge of reciprocal affection. But their
 
 MEMORIAL OF THE CINCINNATI. 375 
 
 original members are diminished by death. Changes not favoura 
 ble to responsibility for property committed in trust, sometimes 
 take place from unforeseen failures and disappointments. And 
 no one is ignorant that such adverse contingencies may happen in 
 process of time, with respect to any joint property not regulated 
 and secured by law, as to render its tenure extremely precarious. 
 Nothing selfish will, we trust, be imputed to the Society. And it is 
 hardly to be believed, that an act of incorporation, merely calcu 
 lated to give consistency and duration to so amiable and useful a 
 charity, will ultimately be refused, at the same time that such 
 acts are so liberally extended to societies for establishing banks, 
 insurance companies, turnpike roads, toll bridges, Sec. 
 
 Your memorialists, however, think it would not be consistent 
 with their duty to suppress one further fact. A number of the 
 members of the Society, apprehending, from past unsuccessful 
 efforts, that insuperable difficulties might be encountered in en 
 deavouring to obtain a charter of incorporation, and presuming 
 that the fund could not much longer be kept with propriety in its 
 present situation, did, at the last annual meeting, propose a disso 
 lution of the Society, and a division of the fund. This measure 
 was not then adopted, upon the principle' that it would be prema 
 ture to make such an irrevocable decision, until one more humble 
 address should be preferred to the Honourable Legislature for an 
 act of incorporation. 
 
 Charged as your memorialists are with bringing that respectful 
 supplication before your honourable body, at the time, and in the 
 way they shall deem most likely to be efficacious for obtaining the 
 wishes of the Society, they now hope for its indulgent reception, 
 while they express their entire persuasion, that the existence or 
 annihilation of the Society and its fund must be involved in the de 
 termination of the present question. They therefore most ear 
 nestly solicit, in the name and behalf of the Society of the Cin 
 cinnati in Connecticut, that the Honourable Legislature will take 
 the premises into their wise deliberation, and grant such an act 
 of incorporation for the purpose before mentioned as to their wis 
 dom shall seem meet ; and they as in duty bound will ever pray. 
 
 Dated at JVew- Haven, October 1CM, A. D. 1803. 
 
 D. HUMPHREYS, 7 
 
 JOHN MIX, 5 Conamttef '
 
 ( 376 ) 
 A 
 
 SPEECH, 
 
 DELIVERED BEFORE THE GOVERNOR AND COUNCIL, IN SUPPORT OF THE 
 PRECEDING MEMORIAL, NOVEMBER 2, 1803. 
 
 May it please your Excellency, 
 
 I O induce this Honourable Board to grant the prayer of the 
 memorial which has just been presented on the part of the Society 
 of the Cincinnati, we flatter ourselves little more will be neces 
 sary than a simple statement of facts, in illustration of those which 
 have already been stated in that memorial. 
 
 The Society of the Cincinnati was formed, at the close of our 
 revolutionary war, in this manner. The officers in the canton 
 ment of New-Windsor anticipated that the signature of that very 
 peace which gave independence to their country, was the signal 
 for them to part for ever. They had long been connected as a 
 band of brothers. They had contracted friendvhips which they 
 wished might not be dissolved. It was natural that men, who had 
 passed so much of their best time together, mostly in the morn 
 ing of life, when the mind is peculiarly susceptible of new and 
 durable impressions, for the attainment of so important an object, 
 and. who had shared together the toils, hardships, sufferings, and 
 dangers of so long a war, which were often not of an ordinary 
 nature, should have felt strong attachments for each other. The 
 moment of separation, when, in all human probability, few of 
 them would ever meet again, was approaching. They thought 
 it would be a rational gratification to see one another sometimes, 
 during the short continuance of their lives, even if it were but 
 once in a year. 
 
 Under these circumstances the Society was instituted. The 
 General Orders for separation were issued. Perhaps few more 
 solemn and impressive scenes have ever been exhibited. An army, 
 victorious in the field, and triumphant in the best of causes, quietly 
 disbanded and mingled in the mass with their fellow-citizens ! It 
 was a patriotic lesson for mankind. I remember well that day 
 nor can it be effaced from the memory of your Excellency. I 
 have seen those veterans, (for, whatever their age, such they were 
 after more than eight years service) without uttering one word.
 
 A SPEECH, Sec. 377 
 
 the tears secretly stealing from their eyes, grasping each others' 
 hands at parting; and only consoled by the idea, I should rather 
 say by the fond hope, that they might, perchance, meet on some 
 future anniversary of independence. I must acknowledge my own 
 feelings were never so much affected on any other occasion. And 
 your Excellency, who was present with me at the Head-Quarters 
 of the army, and who was one of the last and most intimate of 
 the friends who took leave of the Commander in Chief, can bear 
 ample testimony to this interesting and affecting scene. 
 
 But, may it please your Excellency, there was another object 
 which equally engaged our attention at that memorable period. 
 A number of the officers, after having spent their best days in the 
 public service, without having received scarcely any compensa 
 tion to that time, destitute of money, without friends, with few 
 resources, unable to go with advantage into the employments and 
 occupations for which they had been destined, had to bear up 
 against many misfortunes and discouragements, especially when 
 they were burdened with the maintenance of large families. So 
 embarrassed were some of them, that they had barely where 
 withal to face their most necessary expenses, and to quit the can 
 tonment without leaving debts behind them. To provide a fund 
 for the relief of the most necessitous, it was agreed by all, that 
 one month's pay should be reserved, whenever their accounts 
 should be finally settled. At the origin of the Society all sub 
 scribed, and afterwards, upon the settlement of their claims upon 
 the United States, contributed in proportion to their rank. A 
 fund was thus created. If any of our old companions, now worn 
 out with years and infirmities, have been enabled to pass the even 
 ing of life in a mare comfortable manner than they would other 
 wise have done, and the names of such will be seen in the minutes 
 of our proceedings; or if the widows and orphans of others have 
 been essentially assisted, and we can there point to several of the 
 former who have been greatly aided in educating the latter, even 
 from our scanty supply we applaud not ourselves, but we rejoice 
 that Providence has crowned our designs with success. 
 
 For the faithful application of that fund we appeal to our re 
 cords. In them you will find no history of fictitious poverty and 
 misery, but a relation of sums given to relieve real distress. 
 There is no instance of the distribution of this charity, alluded to 
 in our memorial, which, we presume, cannot be confirmed by 
 the personal knowledge of some of the members of one or other 
 house of the Legislature. 
 
 The contingencies and casualties arising from deaths, failures 
 by bankruptcies, and other disappointments, which may endanger 
 
 3 C
 
 S7S A SPEECH TO THE GOVERNOR 
 
 the loss of that fund, are too obvious to be insisted upon. With 
 out enlarging on the reasons which are set forth in the memorial, 
 to show the insecure tenure of joint property, held in trust, un 
 protected by law, I will only say, " I feel a serious conviction, that 
 a refusal to grant the prayer of the memorial must be attended 
 with the destruction of the charitable part of our institution." 
 And the motion made, as it were, in despair, at the last annual 
 meeting, in this very council chamber, for the dissolution of the 
 Society and the division of the fund, will probably produce the 
 same conviction in every mind. 
 
 May it please your Excellency, I have thus endeavoured to com 
 prise the few things I had to say in as narrow limits as possible. 
 They may be comprehended under four heads, as they related, 
 1st, To the circumstances under which the Society was formed: 
 2d, The objects for which it was instituted : 3d, The manner in 
 which those objects have been accomplished : and, 4thly, What I 
 am convinced must be the result if the prayer of this memorial 
 should not be granted. 
 
 It will doubtless be remembered by your Excellency and your 
 Honours, that, soon after the formation of this Society, attempts 
 were made, and not without some degree of success, to render it 
 unpopular, by pretending it originated in motives of ambition, and 
 was designed to imitate the privileged orders of Europe. But I 
 humbly conceive, what I have said respecting its origin and objects 
 would be sufficient to confute any such attempts, if they needed 
 confutation at this late period. More than twenty years have 
 elapsed, and not one fact has occurred to countenance these jealous 
 insinuations. No person, Sir,' could be more opposed to this 
 dreaded innovation, to this pretended project for introducing pri 
 vileged orders, than myself. But every person who has the 
 slightest acquaintance with the subject, does know that there is 
 not the remotest analogy between the societies. And would Ge 
 neral Washington, and a host of patriots who might be men 
 tioned, have sacrificed their principles, and sullied their glory, 
 by giving their sanction to such a scheme? Let every candid 
 inquirer judge for himself. Nay, let the whole impartial world 
 decide, whether our actions have not accorded with our pro 
 fessions. Whatever prejudices might have partially existed, we 
 believe they exist no more ; for we know there is not the smallest 
 pretext for them. We believe that the sentiments of the com 
 munity at large, if they could be known, would be strongly in 
 our favour, that is to say, in favour of a charter of incorpora 
 tion for the purpose proposed. And we cannot but hope, that your 
 Excellency and your Honours will manifest the same sentiments,
 
 AND COUNCIL OF CONNECTICUT. 379 
 
 by adopting the only possible measure for preventing this source 
 of beneficence from being for ever dried up. 
 
 May it please your Excellency, it remains to be decided whe 
 ther our request is reasonable or unreasonable. What do we ask? 
 We ask nothing but protection for a charity, devoted to the un 
 fortunate, under peculiar circumstances and relations as to our 
 feelings. Yes, may it please your Excellency, suffer me to repeat 
 it with emphasis, we ask NOTHING but PROTECTION for a CHA 
 RITY; and will THAT be refused? Will you REFUSE that PRO 
 TECTION, in this case, which you have granted to societies for 
 establishing banks, insurance companies, turnpike-roads, toll- 
 bridges, as well as for several other purposes supposed to be use 
 ful to some portion of the commonwealth ? Are we a description 
 of citizens less favoured than others? And have we forfeited the 
 good opinion of our country by fighting for its independence ? Di 
 vest our institution of the formidable name of Cincinnati (if there 
 be a magic in the name that can make it so), and what will there be 
 but a friendly and charitable society, to which you could have no 
 difficulty in granting what is now solicited ! As a society, we are 
 neither numerous, or rich, or powerful, or, perhaps, more united 
 in political sentiments than the rest of the inhabitants of the 
 State. As individuals, we are much the greater part of us so 
 far removed from indigence as never to expect any benefit for 
 ourselves or our families from the fund during our lives. Sir, we 
 can then have little interest in the object of our request, so far as 
 it respects us personally : for, after a few more years shall have 
 revolved, not one of us who served through the revolutionary war 
 will be left alive. But, in the hour of death, it would afford a 
 consolation to hope, that, if we have done some little good in our 
 day, it might be made to survive us. 
 
 * # * Leave was given in the House of Representatives, by a 
 large majority, to bring in a bill in form on the subject of the me 
 morial. But it was negatived in the other house. And, conse 
 quently, the request of the society was not granted.
 
 APPENDIX.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 LETTER L 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, President of the United States of 
 America, to DAVID HUMPHREYS, Minister of the United 
 States of America, at Lisbon. 
 
 Philadelphia, March 16th, 1791. 
 MY DEAR SIR, 
 
 .A.S this letter is wholly of a private nature, I refer you to Mf. 
 Jefferson's official communications for every thing relative to your 
 appointment at the Court of Lisbon, &c. and shall confine myself 
 to acknowledging your two letters, viz. one from London, of 
 October 31, and the other from Lisbon, of November 30, 1790 ; 
 and to such general observations as may occur in the course of 
 my writing.* 
 
 ********* 
 
 Congress finished their session the 3d inst. in the course of 
 which they received and granted the applications of Kentucky and 
 Vermont for admission into the union ; the former after August, 
 1792, and the latter immediately. They made provision for the 
 Interest on the national debt, by laying a higher duty than that 
 which heretofore existed on spirituous liquors imported or manu 
 factured. They established a national bank. They passed a law 
 for certain measures to be taken towards establishing a mint ; and 
 finished much other business of less importance; conducting, on 
 all occasions, with great harmony and cordiality. In some few 
 instances, particularly in passing the law for higher duties men 
 tioned above, and more especially on the subject of the bank, the 
 line between the Eastern and Southern interest appeared more 
 strongly marked than could have been wished : the former in fa 
 vour of, and the latter against those measures. But the debates 
 were conducted with temper and candour. 
 
 The convention between Spain and England seems once more 
 to have composed the European powers, except the Empress and 
 
 * The original letters will be deposited where they may be seen by thepublic. It is probable 
 tlkat th* few lines now omitted will be published hereafter.
 
 384 APPENDIX. 
 
 the Turks: and the Emperor appears to have settled matters 
 pretty thoroughly in his dominions. Of the state of things in 
 France we can form no just idea, so various and contradictory are 
 our accounts from thence ; but we most devoutly wish a speedy 
 and happy termination of the struggle which has for some time 
 past convulsed that kingdom. 
 
 Peace and tranquillity pervade the territory of the United States, 
 except on the north-west side of the Ohio, where the frequent de 
 predations of the Indians made it necessary to form an expedition 
 against them last fall ; but that has not been productive of the con 
 sequences which were expected from it. The Indians still continue 
 their hostilities, and measures are now taking to convince them, 
 if they do not see the folly of their way before they can be carried 
 into effect, that the arm of the United States is as much to be 
 dreaded as their friendship is to be desired. 
 
 Our public credit is restored; our resources are increasing; 
 and the general appearance of things at least equals the most 
 sanguine expectation that was formed of the effects of the pre 
 sent government. 
 
 I am about to set out, to-morrow or next day, on a tour through 
 the Southern States. I am under the necessity of commencing 
 my journey with very bad roads, in order that I may take such 
 advantages of the season as to be leaving the southern extremity 
 before the travelling shall be rendered disagreeable, and perhaps 
 dangerous, by the heat. 
 
 I expect to return to this city in the latter part of June or early 
 in July. Since the rising of Congress I have been, and shall be 
 till my departure, very busily engaged in making such arrange 
 ments with the several departments as will enable me to be absent 
 for several months without interrupting public business. And if 
 I have not said every thing in this letter that I intended, or that 
 you might expect, it must be imputed to the hurry of the moment. 
 But at any rate, there is one thing I must not omit, which is to 
 tell you that I am very sincerely, 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 P. S. Mrs. Washington and all the family cordially unite with 
 me in best wishes for you.
 
 ( 385 ) 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, President of the United States of 
 America, to DAVID HUMPHREYS, Minister of the United 
 States of America at Lisbon. 
 
 Philadelphia, July 20, 1791. 
 MY DKAR SIR, 
 
 J. HAVE received your letters of the 16th of February and 3d of 
 May, and am much obliged by your observations on the situation, 
 
 manners, customs, and disposition of the Spanish nation. * 
 
 *##**#***#* 
 
 In my last I mentioned my intention of visiting the Southern 
 States, which I have since accomplished ; and have the satisfac 
 tion to inform you, that I performed a journey of 1887 miles with 
 out meeting with any interruption by sickness, bad weather, or 
 any untoward accident. Indeed, so highly were we favoured, that 
 we arrived at each place where I proposed to make any halt on 
 the very day I had fixed upon before we set out. The same horses 
 performed the whole tour, and although much reduced in flesh, 
 kept up their spirits to the last day. 
 
 I am much pleased that I have taken this journey, as it has 
 enabled me to see, with my own eyes, the situation of the country 
 through which we travelled, and to learn more accurately the 
 disposition of the people than I could have done by any information. 
 The country appears to be in a very improving state, and industry 
 and frugality are becoming much more fashionable than they have 
 hitherto been there. Tranquillity reigns among the people, with 
 that disposition towards the general government which is likely to 
 preserve it. They begin to feel the good effect of equal laws and 
 equal protection. The farmer finds a ready market for his pro 
 duce, and the merchant calculates with more certainty on his pay 
 ments. Manufactures have, as yet, made but little progress in 
 that part of the country, and it will, probably, be long before they 
 are brought to that state to which they have already arrived in 
 the middle and eastern parts of the union. 
 
 Each day's experience of the government of the United States 
 seems to confirm its establishment, and render it more popular. 
 A ready acquiescence in the laws made under it shows, in a strong 
 light, the confidence which the people have in their representa 
 tives, and in the upright views of those who administer the go 
 vernment. At the time of passing a law imposing a duty on home 
 made spirits, it was vehemently affirmed by many, that such a 
 
 3D
 
 286 APPENDIX. 
 
 law could never be executed in the Southern States, particularly 
 in Virginia and North-Carolina. As this law came into force only 
 on the first day of this month, little can be said of its effects from 
 experience ; but from the best information I could get on my jour 
 ney respecting its operation on the minds of the people (and I 
 took some pains to obtain information on this point), there remains 
 no doubt but it will be carried into effect, not only without oppo 
 sition, but with very general approbation in those very parts 
 where it was foretold that it would never be submitted to by any 
 one. 
 
 It is possible, however, and perhaps not improbable, that some 
 demagogue may start up produce, and get signed some resolu 
 tions declaratory of their disapprobation of the measure. 
 
 Our public credit stands on that gronnd which, three years ago, 
 it would have been considered as a species of insanity to have 
 foretold. The astonishing rapidity with which the newly-instituted 
 Bank was filled, gives an unexampled proof (here) of the re 
 sources of our countrymen, and their confidence in public mea 
 sures. On the first day of opening the subscriptions, the whole 
 number of shares (25,000, including the 5000 subscribed on ac 
 count of the United States) were taken up in one hour, and appli 
 cation made for upwards of 4,000 shares more than were granted 
 by the institution, besides many others that were coming in from 
 different quarters. 
 
 For sometime past the western frontiers have been alarmed by 
 depredations committed by some hostile tribes of Indians. Such 
 measures are now in train as will, I presume, either bring them 
 to sue for peace before a stroke is struck at them, or make them 
 feel the effects of an enmity too sensibly to provoke it again unne 
 cessarily; unless ******** 
 ********** 
 
 Though I must, at the same time, confess I cannot see much 
 prospect of living in tranquillity with them so long as a spirit of 
 land-jobbing prevails; and our frontier settlers entertain the 
 opinion that there is not the same crime, or indeed no crime at 
 all, in killing an Indian as in killing a white person. 
 
 You have been informed of the spot fixed upon for the seat of 
 government on the Potowmack, and I am now happy to add, that 
 all matters between the proprietors of the soil and the public are 
 settled to the mutual satisfaction of the parties ; and that the busi 
 ness of laying out the city, the grounds for public buildings, walks, 
 &c. is progressing under the inspection of Major L'Enfant with 
 pleasing prospects. 
 
 Thus much for our American affairs. I wish I could say as
 
 APPENDIX. 387 
 
 much in favour of circumstances in Europe. But our accounts 
 from thence do not paint the situation of the inhabitants in very 
 pleasing colours. One part exhibits war and devastation ; another, 
 preparations for war; a third, commotions; a fourth, direful 
 apprehensions of commotions; and, indeed, there seems to be 
 scarcely a nation enjoying uninterrupted or unapprehensive tran 
 quillity. 
 
 The example of France will undoubtedly have its effects on 
 other kingdoms. Poland, by the public papers, appears to have 
 made large and unexpected strides towards liberty; which, if 
 true, reflect great honour on the present King, who seems to have 
 been the principal promoter of the business. By the bye, I have 
 never received any letter from Mr. Littlepage, or from the King 
 of Poland, which you say Mr. Carmichael informed you were 
 sent to me last summer. 
 
 I yesterday had Don Jaudenes (who was in this country with 
 Mr. Gardoqui, and is now come over in a public character,) pre 
 sented to me, for the first time, by Mr. Jefferson. Colonel Ter- 
 nant is expected here every day as Minister from France. 
 
 I am glad to learn that the air of Lisbon agrees so well with 
 you, I sincerely hope that you may long very long enjoy the 
 blessings of health, accompanied with such other blessings as may 
 contribute to your happiness. I have been in the enjoyment of 
 very good health during my journey, and have rather gained flesh 
 upon it. Mrs. Washington desires her best wishes may be pre 
 sented to you : you are always assured of those of, 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 Your sincere and affectionate friend, 
 
 GEO. WASHINGTON. 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, President of the United States of 
 America, to DAVID HUMPHREYS, Minister of the United 
 States of America at Lisbon. 
 
 Philadelphia, March 23, 1793, 
 MY DEAR SIR, 
 
 CLOSELY engaged in the business incident to my office during 
 the session of Congress, and as closely employed since, in making 
 arrangements for carrying into effect the laws then passed, and
 
 388 APPENDIX. 
 
 in discharging other duties, I have not, till this moment, found 
 myself enough at leisure to acknowledge the receipt of your letter 
 of the 23d of July; and being now on the eve of setting out for 
 Mount-Vernon, I shall be able to do little more than barely ac 
 knowledge the receipt of it, and of your favours of the 23d of 
 January and 8th of February, both of which have reached my 
 hands within these few days. 
 
 ****##**** 
 
 I shall therefore content myself at present, my dear Sir, with 
 making a few general observations on the existing state of things, 
 and rely upon your being assured, that however concise my letter 
 may be, it does not become so from any diminution of my regard 
 for you. 
 
 If it can be esteemed a happiness to live in an age productive 
 of great and interesting events, we of the present age are very 
 highly favoured. 
 
 The rapidity of national revolutions appears no less astonishing 
 than their magnitude; and the consequences of them seem to 
 baffle every calculation. In what they will terminate is known 
 only to the Great Ruler of events ; and confiding in his wisdom 
 and goodness, we may safely trust the issue to him, without per 
 plexing ourselves to seek for that which is beyond the human ken, 
 only taking care to perform the parts assigned us in a way that 
 reason and our own consciences approve of. 
 
 All our late accounts from Europe hold up the expectation of a 
 general war in th'at quarter. For the sake of humanity I hope 
 such an event will not take place : but if it should, I trust that we 
 shall have too just a sense of our own interest to originate any 
 cause that may involve us in it and I ardently wish we may not 
 be forced into it by the conduct of other nations. If we are per 
 mitted to improve, without interruption, the great advantages 
 which nature and circumstances have placed within our reach, 
 many years will not revolve before we may be ranked not only 
 among the most respectable, but among the happiest people on 
 this globe. 
 
 Our advances to these points are more rapid than the most san 
 guine among us ever predicted. A spirit of improvement dis 
 plays itself in every quarter, and principally in objects of the 
 greatest public utility; such as opening the inland navigation, 
 which is extensive and various beyond conception ; improving the 
 old roads, and opening new ones ; building bridges and houses ; 
 and, in short, pursuing those things which seem eminently cal 
 culated to promote the advantage and accommodation of the peo-
 
 APPENDIX. 389 
 
 pie at large. Besides these, the enterprizes of individuals show 
 at once what are the happy effects of personal exertions in a 
 country where equal laws and equal rights prevail. 
 
 For myself, you see me again entering upon the arduous duties 
 of an important office,* to which the unanimous voice of my 
 country has once more called me. To you, who know my love 
 of retirement and domestic life, it is unnecessary to say, that in 
 accepting this re-appointment, I relinquish those personal enjoy 
 ments to which I am peculiarly attached. The motives which 
 induced my acceptance are the same which have ever ruled my 
 decision when the public desire, or, as my countrymen are pleased 
 to denominate it, good, was placed in the scale against my per 
 sonal enjoyment or interest ; the latter I have ever considered as 
 subservient to the former ; and, perhaps in no instance of my life 
 have I ever been more sensible of the sacrifice than in- the pre 
 sent; for, at my age, the love of retirement grows every day more 
 and more powerful ; and the death of my nephew, the poor Major, 
 will, I apprehend, cause my private concerns to suffer very much. 
 This melancholy event took place on the 5th of last month, at 
 Colonel Bassett's, where he had gone, hoping to benefit from a 
 change of air and situation. Although it had been long expected, 
 and, indeed, to me, of late, appeared inevitable, yet I have felt 
 it very keenly. 
 
 You will receive from Mr. Jefferson every official communica 
 tion necessary for your conduct, together with the laws, public 
 papers, &c. He will also inform you, that the steps which you 
 took, in consequence of Mr. Barclay's death, met my entire ap 
 probation. 
 
 I set out with intimating that my letter would be very short; 
 but, upon looking back, I find it can hardly be said to have that 
 fault ; but least it should partake of another at least as bad, I shall 
 close it, with assuring you, that you have the best wishes for your 
 health and happiness of your sincere friend and affectionate 
 servant, 
 
 GEO. WASHINGTON. 
 
 * Elected President of the United States a second time.
 
 ( 390 ) 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, President of the United States of 
 America, to DAVID HUMPHREYS, Minister of the United 
 States of America at Lisbon. 
 
 Philadelphia , V2th June, 1796. 
 MY DEAR HUMPHREYS, 
 
 1 COULD not suffer Captain O'Brien to return without carrying 
 along with him a testimony of my continued friendship and regard 
 for you, in a few lines ; in the diction of which I must be con 
 cise ; for a long; and interesting session of Congress, which only 
 closed on the first instant, and many laws which require imme 
 diate attention and execution, added to a preparation for a jour 
 ney to Mount-Vernon (to-morrow), for a little relaxation from the 
 unpleasant scenes which have been, and are continually present 
 ing themselves to my view, will not, however well disposed I 
 might otherwise be, permit me to be profuse in my declaration. 
 
 From the Office of State you will receive every thing that re 
 lates to public concerns ; and the gazettes, which I presume will 
 accompany the dispatches, will give you a pretty good idea of 
 the state of politics and parties in this country ; and will show you, 
 at the same time, (if Bache's Aurora is among them) in what 
 manner I am attacked for persevering steadily in measures 
 which to me appear necessary to preserve us (during the conflicts 
 of the belligerent powers) in a state of tranquillity. But these 
 attacks, unjust and as unpleasant as they are, will occasion no 
 change in my conduct ; nor will they produce any other effect in 
 my mind than to increase the solicitude which long since has taken 
 fast hold of my breast, to enjoy, in the shades of retirement, the 
 consolation of believing that I have rendered my country every 
 service to which my abilities were competent not from pecuniary 
 or ambitious motives, nor for a desire to provide for any one far 
 ther than their intrinsic merit entitled them to; and surely not 
 with a view to bring any of my own relations into office. 
 
 Malignity, therefore, may dart its shafts ; but no earthly power 
 can deprive me of the consolation of knotting, that I have not, 
 in the whole course of my administration, however numerous 
 they may have been, committed an intentional error. 
 
 Whenever you shall think, with the poet or philosopher, " that 
 the post of honour is a private station," and may be disposed to 
 enjoy yourself in my shades I do not mean the shades below, 
 where, if you put it off long, I may be reclining, I can only re-
 
 APPENDIX. 391 
 
 peat, that you will meet with the same cordial reception at Mount- 
 Vernon that you have always found at that place ; and that I am, 
 and always shall be, 
 
 Your sincere friend, 
 
 And affectionate servant, 
 
 GEO. WASHINGTON. 
 
 P. S. Mrs. Washington, who keeps her health as well as usual, 
 presents her best wishes to you. Betsy Custis is married to Mr. 
 Law (who was, I believe, in this country when you were here last), 
 an English gentleman, but last from the East-Indies, of consider 
 able fortune, and lives in the federal city. Patty you know was 
 married ere you left us, to Mr. Peters. Nelly has spent the last 
 winter with her mother. Washington grows fast ; and we have 
 just heard that all Dr. Stuart's family are well. 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, President of the United States of 
 America, to DAVID HUMPHREYS, Minister Plenipotentiary 
 of the United States of America in Spain. 
 
 Mount-Vernon, 26th June, 179?. 
 MY DEAR HUMPHREYS, 
 
 OlNCE I did myself the pleasure of writing to you by Captain 
 O'Brien, I have been favoured with your letters of the 1st of 
 January and 18th of February. The last in date was the first 
 received ; but neither came to hand until long after I had left the 
 chair of government, and was seated in the shade of my own 
 vine and fig-tree. 
 
 The testimony of your politeness and friendship to Mrs. Wash 
 ington and myself, which accompanied the latter, are accepted 
 with the same cordiality and cheerfulness with which I am sure 
 they were presented. Presents, however, to me are of all things 
 the most painful ; but, when I am so well satisfied of the motives 
 which dictated your's, my scruples are removed ; and I receive 
 the buckles (which are indeed very elegant) as a token of your 
 regard and attachment, and will keep, and wear them occasion 
 ally, for your sake. 
 
 As the gazettes of this country are transmitted from the De 
 partment of State to all our diplomatic characters abroad, you 
 will, of course, have perceived that the measure advised by you,
 
 392 APPENDIX. 
 
 relative to the disavowal of the forged letters, attempted to be im-* 
 posed on the public as written by me in 1776, had been previously 
 adopted, without any of the accompanyments contained in youv 
 draughts, which was received long after the publication of it. 
 
 I am clearly in Sentiment with you, that every man who is in 
 the vigour of life, ought to serve his country in whatsoever line 
 it requires, and he is fit for; it was not my intention, therefore, 
 to persuade you to withdraw your services, whilst inclination and 
 the calls of your country demanded your services ; but the desire 
 of a companion, in my latter days, in whom I could confide, might 
 have induced me to express myself too strongly on the occasion. 
 The change, however, which I presume has ere this taken place 
 in your domestic concerns, would of itself have annihilated every 
 hope of having you as an inmate, if the circumstance had been 
 known at the time. 
 
 On this event, which I persuade myself will be fortunate and 
 happy for you, I offer my congratulations with all the sincerity and 
 warmth you can desire ; and if ever you should bring Mrs. Hum 
 phreys to the United States, no roof will afford her and you a more 
 welcome reception than this, while we are the inhabitants of it. 
 
 To the Department of State, and the gazettes which will be 
 transmitted from thence, I shall refer you for the political state 
 of our affairs ; but in one word I might have added, that nothing 
 Short of a general peace in Europe will produce tranquillity in this 
 country, for reasons which are obvious to every well-informed 
 or observant man among us. 
 
 I have a confidence, however, in that Providence which has 
 shielded the United States from the evils which have threatened 
 them hitherto ; and as I believe the major part of the people of 
 this country are well affected to the constitution and government 
 of it, I rest satisfied, that if ever a crisis should arise to call 
 forth the sense of the community, it will be strong in support of 
 the honour and dignity of the nation. Therefore, however much 
 I regret the opposition which has for its object the embarrassment 
 of the administration, I shall view things in the " calm light of 
 mild philosophy," and endeavour to finish my course in retirement 
 and ease. 
 
 An absence from home of eight years, except short occasional 
 visits to it, which allowed no time to investigate or look into the 
 real state of my private concerns, has very much deranged them, 
 and occasioned such depredations upon buildings, and all things 
 around them, as to make the expense of repairs almost as great, 
 and the employment of attending to workmen almost as much, as 
 if I had commenced an entire new establishment.
 
 APPENDIX. 39? 
 
 The public buildings in the Federal city go on well. One wing 
 of the Capitol (with which Congress might make a very good 
 shift) and the President's house will be covered in this autumn ; 
 or, to speak more correctly, perhaps the latter is nova receiving 
 its cover, and the former will be ready for it by that epoch. An 
 elegant bridge is thrown over the Potowmack at the Little Falls, 
 and the navigation of the river above it will be completed, nearly, 
 this season ; through which an immensity of produce must flow to 
 the shipping ports thereon. Alexandria you would scarcely know, 
 so much has it increased since you was there ; two entire streets, 
 where shallops then laded and unladed, are extended into the 
 river, and some of the best buildings in the town erected on them. 
 What were the commons are now all enclosed, and many good 
 houses placed on them. As my circle is now small, my information 
 will be, of course, contracted, as Alexandria and the Federal City 
 will probably be the extent of my perambulations. If you have 
 entered the matrimonial list, I pray you to present me in respectful 
 terms to your lady, and at all times, and under all circumstances, 
 that you would believe me to be, as I really am, 
 My dear Sir, 
 Your most obedient and affectionate servant, 
 
 GEO. WASHINGTON. 
 
 P. S. The seal of this letter being black, is occasioned by the 
 death of my only sister, Mrs. Lewis, late of Fredericksburgh. 
 
 CONSULATE. 
 
 Order of the day for the Consular Guard and all the Troofii of 
 the Republic. 
 
 WASHINGTON is no more. That great man fought against 
 tyranny. He firmly established the liberty of his country. His 
 memory will be ever dear to the French people, as it must be to 
 every friend of freedom in the two worlds; and especially to the 
 French soldiers, who, like him and the Americans, bravely fight 
 for liberty. 
 
 The First Consul, in consequence, orders, that for ten days 
 black crapes shall be suspended from all the standards and flags 
 of the Republic. 
 
 Paris, 23d Pluviose. 
 
 3F.
 
 ( 394 ) 
 
 By the United States in Congress assembled, Nov. 7th, 1781. 
 
 rv ESOLVED, that an elegant sword be presented, in the name 
 of the United States in Congress assembled, to Colonel Hum 
 phreys, Aid-de-Camp to General Washington, to whose care the 
 standards, taken under the capitulation of York, were committed, 
 as a testimony of their opinion of his fidelity and ability; and 
 that the Board of War take order therein. 
 
 Extract from the Minutes* 
 
 CHA. THOMPSON, Secretary. 
 
 THE END.
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 -H-IS Catholic Majesty. 
 
 Her Catholic Majesty. 
 
 Thomas Jefferson, President of the United States. 
 
 John Adams, late President of the United States. 
 
 Duke of Alafoens, Commander in Chief of the forces of Portu 
 gal, Lisbon. 
 
 Chevalier de Adlerberg, Charge des Affairs of his Sw-ed4s>h Ma 
 jesty, Madrid. 
 
 M. de Aguirre and Sons, merchants, Madrid, copies. 
 
 Don Zenon Alonzo, First Officer of the Department of Grace 
 and Justice, Madrid. 
 
 David Austin, New-Haven, Connecticut. 
 
 Edmond Antrobus, Esq. No. 9 New-Street, Spring-Gardens, 
 London. 
 
 The Hon. John Allen, Esq. Lichfield, Connecticut. 
 
 The Hon. Aaron Austin, Esq. New-Hartford, Connecticut. 
 
 Thomas C. Amory, Esq. Boston. 
 
 John A very, Esq. Secretary of State, Massachusetts, 
 
 Samuel Armour, Windham, New-Hampshire. 
 
 John B. Allen, Beverly, Massachusetts. 
 
 Paschal Allen, Warren, Rhode-Island. 
 
 Jeremiah Allen, Esq. Boston. 
 
 Rufus G. Amory, Esq. Boston. 
 
 James Adams, Roxbury. 
 
 Samuel Abbot, Boston. 
 
 John Basset, Oxford, Connecticut. 
 
 Solomon Babson, Boston. 
 
 I. Cox Barnet, Commercial Agent of the United States, Boiv 
 deaux, 4 copies. 
 
 Dr. Philip Bausa, of the Royal Typographical Laboratory, Madrid, 
 
 Isaac Beers and Co. booksellers, New -Haven, 6 copies. 
 
 Nathan Beers, merchant, New-Haven. 
 
 Francis Xavier Van Baumberghen, Inspector of Roads, Madrid,
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 Bernard de Clamous Brown, Esq. Consul of the United States, 
 
 Oporto, 12 copies. 
 Henry Brown, Norfolk, Virginia. 
 Webster Brown, New-York. 
 Arthur Breeze, Esq. Whitestown, New-York. 
 Lazarus Beach, printer, Newfield, Connecticut. 
 William Beard, Derby, Connecticut. 
 James R. Benson, Esq. merchant, Gibraltar. 
 Dr. Augustin de Betancourt, Director-General of Posts and Roads 
 
 in Spain, Madrid, 2 copies. 
 Mathew Barton, Esq. Lancaster, Pennsylvania. 
 Hon. Jonathan Brace, Hartford, Connecticut. 
 The Count of Beaujolois, London. 
 Jesse Beach, Attorney at Law, Derby, Connecticut. 
 Jared Bartholomew, Derby, Connecticut. 
 George Bloom, Yale-College, 
 Rufus Bigelow, Boston. 
 Clement Biddle, Esq. Philadelphia. 
 David Bird, Esq. Troy. 
 Nicolas de Broval, citizen of Paris. 
 Joseph Bryan, Esq. Savannah, 2 copies. 
 John Bulkeley, Esq. Lisbon, 12 copies, 
 David Barwell, Derby, Connecticut. 
 Jeremiah Bumstead, jun. Boston. 
 William H. Boardman, Boston. 
 John Belknap, Boston. 
 Adam Babcock, Esq. Boston. 
 William Bicknell, Boston. 
 Enoch Baldwin, Boston. 
 Benjamin Bussey, Boston. 
 Josiah Bradlee, Boston. 
 Ebenezer Billings, Boston. 
 Seth Bass, Boston. 
 
 Hon. Elijah Brigham, Esq. Worcester County, Massachusetts, 
 Alden Bradford, Esq. Wiscasset, Maine. 
 D. N. M. Burr, Warren, Rhode-Island. 
 Wyllis Brunson, Mendon, Massachusetts. 
 William Breed, Esq. Boston. 
 Henry Bigelow, Boston, 
 John Bacon, Boston. 
 
 Abraham Carpenter, Esq. Lancaster, Pennsylvania, 
 Thomas Gary, junior, Newbury-Port, Massachusetts, 
 Nath. Carver, Plymouth, Massachusetts. 
 O, Champlain, Bordeaux,
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 John Comyn, Malaga. 
 
 M. Comyn, sworn interpreter, Bordeaux. 
 
 Daniel P. Colesworthy, Boston. - 
 
 Israel G. Collins, Charleston, South-Carolina. 
 
 Joseph Conkling, Cadiz. 
 
 Rev. Thomas Connelly, Confessor of the Royal Family of Spain, 
 
 Madrid. 
 
 Michael Crooke, merchant, Malaga. 
 The Bayley Fr. D. Marians Cascajares, Knight of the Order of 
 
 St. John, Madrid. 
 Don Christobal Cladera, Dignetory of the Church of Mallorca, 
 
 Knight of the Order of Christ, Madrid. 
 Thomas Coutts, Esq. Strand, London. 
 Dr. Edward Crafts, Derby, Connecticut. 
 Sheldon Curtis, Derby, Connecticut. 
 Isaac W. Crane, Esq. New-Brunswick, New-Jersey. 
 George W. P. Custis, Esq. Mount Washington. 
 I. Cook and Co. booksellers, New Haven, Connecticut, 6 Copies. 
 Hon. David Cobb, Esq. President of the Senate of Massachusetts, 
 
 2 copies. 
 Hon. Richard Cutts, Esq. Member of Congress, Pepperelborough, 
 
 Maine. 
 
 Hon. M. Cutler, Esq. Member of Congress, Hamilton, Massa 
 chusetts. 
 Hon. Jacob Crowninshield, Esq. Member of Congress, Salem, 
 
 Massachusetts, 2 copies. 
 Hon. Isaac Coffin, Nantucket. 
 Benjamin Coffin, 2d. Nantucket. 
 Joseph Gushing, Amherst, New-Hampshire. 
 Philip Carrigain, jun. Esq. Concord, New-Hampshire. 
 Henry Carrington, Middletown, Connecticut. 
 Stephen Clay, Middletown, Connecticut. 
 Charles Cutter, Cambridge, Massachusetts. 
 John Croade, Warren, Rhode-Island. 
 John T. Child, Warren, Rhode-Island. 
 Cornelius Coolidge, Boston. 
 Allen Crocker, Esq. Boston. 
 John Cunningham, Boston. 
 Joseph Coolidge, Esq. Boston. 
 Stephen Codman, Boston. 
 Joseph Chapman, Esq. Boston. 
 Humphrey Clark, Boston. 
 Jonathan Chapman, Boston. 
 Elihu Daggct, New-Haven, Connecticut,
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 Chauncey Dagget, New-Haven, Connecticut. 
 
 The Hon. David Dagget, New-Haven, Connecticut. 
 
 Naphtali Dagget, New-Haven, Connecticut. 
 
 Rev. Daniel Dana, Newbury-Port, Massachusetts. 
 
 A. J. Dallas, Esq. Attorney-General of Pennsylvania, Philadel 
 phia. 
 
 John H. Deforest, New-Haven, Connecticut. 
 
 Joseph Davis, Esq. Derby, Connecticut. 
 
 Jesse Dewees, Bordeaux. 
 
 P. F. Dobrec, Commercial Agent of the United States, Nantz, 
 2 copies. 
 
 Allen M'Dowell, Esq. Cadiz. 
 
 Amos Doolittle, New-Haven. 
 
 Josiah Dadley, Esq. Derby, Connecticut. 
 
 Lewis Durand, Malaga. 
 
 Rev. T. Dwight, D. D. President of Yale-College, New-Haven. 
 
 S. Durien, Bordeaux. 
 
 Dutari and Brothers, Madrid. 
 
 John A. Davenport, New-York. 
 
 Hon. Thomas Dwight, Member of Congress, Springfield. 
 
 Hon. Francis Dana, Chief Judge of the Supreme Court of Mas 
 sachusetts. 
 
 John Dyson, Beverly, Massachusetts. 
 
 Aarcn Dexter, M. D. Boston. 
 
 Hon. Daniel Davis, Boston. 
 
 W. Dow, Boston. 
 
 Charles Davis, Boston. 
 
 Jonathan Davis, Boston. 
 
 Robert Dinsmore, Windham, New-Hampshire. 
 
 James Elmesley, Esq. Agent of his Swedish Majesty, Gibraltar, 
 2 copies. 
 
 Thomas Eldred, London, 4 copies. 
 
 John S. Ellery, Glocester. 
 
 Rev. William Emerson, Boston. 
 
 Rev. John Eliot, D. D. Boston. 
 
 James Eunson, jun. Boston. 
 
 Sherman Everest, Esq. Haddam, Connecticut. 
 
 John M. Forbes, Esq. Bordeaux. 
 
 Francis French, Derby, Connecticut. 
 
 Joseph French, Derby, Connecticut. 
 
 His Excellency the Commander, Cyp. de Freyre, Minister Ple 
 nipotentiary of Portugal at Madrid. 
 
 Andrew Frothingham, Newbury-Port, Massachusetts. 
 
 Converse Francis, Meciford, Massachusetts.
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 Isaac Flagg, Beverly, Massachusetts. 
 
 Jeremiah Foster, Beverly, Massachusetts. 
 
 Thomas Foster, jun. Boston. 
 
 Fosdick and Procter, Boston. 
 
 John Gadsden, Yale Coljege. 
 
 John Galway, Esq. Captaia of the coast regiment of cavalry, 
 
 Malaga. 
 
 John Gavins, Consul of the United States at Gibraltar, 6 copies. 
 Peter Gilman Esq. Boston, 2 copies. 
 Thomas Gifford, New-Bedford. 
 Dominic k Grana, Malaga. 
 Sir Henry Grivegnee, Malaga. 
 Henry Grivegnee, junior, Esq. Malaga. 
 John Grecnleaf, Newbury-Port, Massachusetts. 
 Thomas Gregory, Esq. his Britannic Majesty's Agent-General for 
 
 Prisoners, Madrid. 
 
 Phribert Guellot, merchant, Bordeaux. 
 Rev. Dr. Gordon, Madrid. 
 John Gibson, Philadelphia. 
 John Graham, Esq. Secretary of the Legation of the United 
 
 States at Madrid. 
 
 The Hon. Chauncey Goodrich, Hartford, Connecticut. 
 Francis Gurney, Esq. Philadelphia. 
 Archibald Gracie, merchant, New-York. 
 John Lyon Gardiner, Esq, Isle of Wight. 
 Dr. Roland Gelston, Nantucket. 
 Charles Gardner, Nantucket. 
 Samuel Goodridge, Beverly, Massachusetts. 
 Nicholas Gilman, Boston. 
 Julia de Trebolet Hardy, Madrid. 
 David Hawkins, Derby, Connecticut. 
 J. N. M. Hurd, Derby, Connecticut. 
 Daniel Holbrook, Derby, Connecticut. 
 John Hoibrook, Brattkborough, Vermont. 
 John Humphreys, junior, Esq. Derby, Connecticut. 2 copies. 
 Edward Humphreys, Gibraltar. 
 John Higgins, Boston, 2 copies. 
 Thomas Hayes. 
 
 Harry Hale, Esq. Birchin-lane, London. 
 Gardner Hammond, Boston, 2 copies. 
 Rev. Thomas Higgins, Confessor of the Family of his Catholic 
 
 Majesty., Madrid. 
 
 Benjamin Homans, Eoq. Bordeaux. 
 William Huelin, Malaga.
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 Jed. Huntington, New-London, Connecticut. 
 
 Herman, Secretary of the Embassy of France, Madrid, 2 copies. 
 
 Rev. Herbt. Hill, Chaplain to the British Factory at Lisbon, 2 
 copies. 
 
 John HilV New-Brunswick, New-Jersey. 
 
 Moses Hatch, Yale College. 
 
 John P. Hampton, Yale College. 
 
 Horace Holley, Yale-College. 
 
 Samuel Hubbard, New-Haven, Connecticut. 
 
 Nathaniel Holbrook, Derby, Connecticut. 
 
 Joseph Hull, Esq. Huntington, Connecticut. 
 
 Hon. Benjamin Huger, Member of Congress, Charleston, South- 
 Carolina. 
 
 Rev. Abiel Holmes, Cambridge, Massachusetts. 
 
 Richard Hunewell, Esq. Portland, Maine. 
 
 Thomas Hobby, Middletown, Connecticut. 
 
 Nehemiah Hubbard, jun. Middletown, Connecticut. 
 
 John Hinsdale, Middletown, Connecticut. 
 
 Jared Ingersoll, Esq. Philadelphia. 
 
 Jonathan Ingersoll, Esq. New-Haven, 
 
 Daniel Ingalls, Boston. 
 
 Joseph James, London. 
 
 Benjamin James, London. 
 
 William Jarvis, Boston, 2 copies. 
 
 Jonathan Jones, Bordeaux. 
 
 Joaguin, Military Surgeon at Villalba. 
 
 Joseph Izwardy, Consul of the United States at Cadiz, 20 copies. 
 
 Hon. John C. Jones, Boston. 
 
 Benjamin Joy, Boston. 
 
 Ebenezer Jones, Boston. 
 
 Levi Jackson, Chesterfield, New-Hampshire. 
 
 Abial Jaques, Wilmington, Massachusetts. 
 
 EJeazer A. Jenks, Portland, Maine. 
 
 Thomas Kearney, Master of Languages of the pages of his Ca 
 tholic Majesty. 
 
 William Kirkpatrick, Consul of the United States at Malaga, 2 
 copies. 
 
 Lemuel Kollock, M. D. Savannah, 2 copies. 
 
 Rev. John T. Kirkland, D. D. Boston. 
 
 William King, Boston. 
 
 Abner Kingman, Warren, Rhode-Island. 
 
 Ruel Keith, Newport, New-Hampshire. 
 
 Nicholas Lewis Koops, Esq. Batavian Consul at Malaga. 
 
 T. A. Kanfrou, his Swedish Majesty's Agent at Lisbon.
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 Nathaniel King, Hamilton, Chenango County, New- York. 
 
 Rev. Isaac S. Keith, Charleston, South-Carolina. 
 
 Jonathan W. Kellog, Yale College. 
 
 Arthur Kinder, merchant, New-York. 
 
 Anthony Lopez, Esq. Lisbon, 20 copies. 
 
 Francis Lightbourne, Charleston, South-Carolina, 2 copies. 
 
 I. Loring, Esq. Bordeaux. 
 
 Bernard Lacoste, Esq. merchant, Cadiz. 
 
 Thomas and Henry Lynch and Co. Cadiz. 
 
 John Longden, Esq. Counsellor of Commerce of his Prussian 
 Majesty at Alicant. 
 
 Ethil Lounsbury, Oxford, Connecticut. 
 
 Hezekiah Lounsbury, Woodbridge, Connecticut. 
 
 Jonathan H. Lyman, New-Haven. 
 
 Hon. Thomas Lowndes, Member of Congress, Charleston, South-,. 
 Carolina. 
 
 William Lambert, Roxbury, Massachusetts. 
 
 Thaddeus Leavitt, Suffield, Connecticut. 
 
 Theodore Lyman, Esq. Boston. 
 
 Jonathan Loring, Boston, 
 
 Thomas Mumford, Scipio, New- York. 
 
 William Mansfield, Derby, Connecticut. 
 
 Duke of Montpersier, London. 
 
 Earl of Moira, St. James' Place, London. 
 
 His Excellency Thomas M'Kean, Governor of the State of Penn 
 sylvania. 
 
 Timothy Macnamara, Esq. merchant, Malaga. 
 
 J. B. Millet, Paris. 
 
 Edward Hardy Markland, Esq. Madrid. 
 
 Richard E. Meade, M. D. Richmond, Virginia, 2 copies, 
 
 Andrew Mather, New-York. 
 
 John de Menville, Esq. merchant, Malaga. 
 
 David Meredith, Philadelphia. 
 
 Charles Morgan, Charleston, South-Carolina. 
 
 John Morphy, Esq. Cadiz. 
 
 Robert Montgomery, Esq. Consul of the United States at Alicant. 
 
 Hugh Maccaughey, Esq. Baltimore. 
 
 Count de Moltke, Charge des Affairs of his Danish Majesty at 
 the Court of Spain, Copenhagen, 2 copies. 
 
 Marchioness de Mos, Madrid. 
 
 James Morrison, Esq. Philadelphia. 
 
 Edward Majoribanks, Esq. Ade'phi, London. 
 
 Hon. Thomas Morris, Ontario County, New-York. 
 
 Thomas Mumford, Cayuga County, New-York. 
 
 3F
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 Rev. Jedidiah Morse, D. D. Charlestown, Massachusetts. 
 
 Josiah Masters, Esq. Scaticoke, New- York. 
 
 William Maxwell, New-Haven. 
 
 Isaac Mills, Esq. New-Haven. 
 
 Jonathan Moseley, New-Haven. 
 
 Jacob Morton, Esq. New-York. 
 
 Benjamin I. Moore, merchant, New-York. 
 
 Hon. Jonathan Mason, Boston. 
 
 John May, Esq. Boston. 
 
 Samuel May, Esq. Boston. 
 
 Thomas Marshall, Boston. 
 
 Samuel Morrison, Windham, New-Hampshire. 
 
 Benjamin Mead, Wiscasset, Maine. 
 
 James Neill, New-York, 2 copies. 
 
 W. H. v an Nieuwerkerke, Charge des Affairs of the Bataviaij 
 Republic, Madrid. 
 
 Henry Neumann, Esq. merchant, Malaga. 
 
 John Neilson, Esq. New-Brunswick, New-Jersey. 
 
 James O'Connor, Esq. merchant, Madrid, 12 copies. 
 
 Patrick O'Connor, Esq. merchant, Cadiz. 
 
 John O'Connor, New-York. 
 
 Christopher O'Connor, Philadelphia. 
 
 Lewis M. O'Brien, Consul of the United States at Santander, 10 
 copies. 
 
 Don Thomas O'Ryan, Chaplain of honour to his Catholic Majesty, 
 Chevalier of the order of Charles III. 
 
 The Duke of Orleans, London. 
 
 Hon. Harrison G. Otis, Esq. Speaker of the House of Repre 
 sentatives of Massachusetts, Boston. 
 
 Francis J. Oliver, Esq. Boston. 
 
 Hon. William Paterson, Esq. New-Brunswick, New-Jersey. 
 
 Hon. I. Pearson, Darby, Delaware County, Pennsylvania. 
 
 John Partridge, sen. Esq. London. 
 
 John Partridge, jun. London. 
 
 Mary Anne Partridge, London. 
 
 Nicholas Plinck, merchant, Malaga. 
 
 Victor du Pont, Esq. merchant, New -York. 
 
 James Power, merchant, Malaga. 
 
 William Power and Co. Cadiz. 
 
 Joseph Prendergast, Cadiz. 
 
 John Perkins, Philadelphia. . 
 
 Jesse Putnam, Bordeaux. 
 
 Hon. Charles Piuckney, Minister Plenipotentiary at Madrid.
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 Dr. Manuel Salabert, Comte of O'Phaly, Gentleman of the King 
 
 of Etruria, Madrid. 
 Henry Post, jun. merchant, New-York. 
 Paul Post, New-York. 
 
 T. W. Persch, Secretary of the Legation of Sazonia at Madrid. 
 Rev. Amasa Porter, Derby, Connecticut. 
 Rev. Elijah Parish, Newbury, Massachusetts. 
 John Pool, New-Brunswick, New-Jersey. 
 John Pierpbnt, Yale College, 
 James Palacios, Madrid. 
 Charles H. Pond, Yale College. 
 Frederick Philips, Esq. New- York. 
 Edward Preble, Esq. Boston. 
 William Powell, Esq. Boston. 
 Rev. Samuel Parker, D. D. Boston. 
 Benjamin Douglas Perkins, New-York. 
 Thomas Perkins, Esq. Boston. 
 Ebenezer Preble, Boston. 
 John H. Payne, Boston. 
 Andrew Peirce, Dover, New-Hampshire. 
 Samuel W. Pomroy, Esq. Cambridge, Massachusetts. 
 Nathaniel Phillips, Warren, Rhode-Island. 
 John Prentiss, Keene, New-Hampshire, 2 copies. 
 Samuel Page, Danvers. 
 Enoch Preble, Portland. 
 Henry Preble, Portland. 
 John Page, jun. Beverly, Massachusetts. 
 Linns Parmelee, Jan. Haddam, Connecticut. 
 Daniel M. Prince, Roxbury, Massachusetts. 
 Edward P. Quesnel, Madrid. 
 Thomas Quilty, Esq. President of the Court of Consttlate of 
 
 Malaga. 
 
 James Quilty, Esq. merchant, Malaga. 
 Hon. Josiah Quincy, Esq. Boston, 
 John Remmey, New-York. 
 Paul Ray, Nantucket. 
 Benjamin Rice, New-York. 
 John William Rein, merchant, Malaga. 
 John Roose, Esq. Prussian Consul at Malaga. 
 The Comte de Rohde, Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Pleni* 
 
 potentiary of the King of Prussia at Madrid. 
 T. Ross, Esq. Philadelphia. 
 Joseph Riggs, Derby, Connecticut. 
 William Ilobinson, merchant, New- York, 2 copies.
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES, 
 
 Thomas Rich, Derby, Connecticut. 
 
 Thomas Robbins, Norfolk, Connecticut. 
 
 John Rodman, merchant, New-York. 
 
 Richard Rogers, Esq. New-York. 
 
 B. W. Rogers, merchant, New-York. 
 
 Daniel D. Rogers, Esq. Boston. 
 
 James Robinson, Esq. Boston. 
 
 Rev. George Richards, Portsmouth, New-Hampshire. 
 
 Susanna Rowson, Preceptress of the Young Ladies' Academy at 
 Newton, Massachusetts. 
 
 William Riddell, Nantucket. 
 
 Henry Redfield, Middletown, Connecticut. 
 
 Ebenezer Stocker, Newbury-Port, Massachusetts. 
 
 James Schureman, Esq. New-Brunswick, New-Jersey. 
 
 Miles Smith, New-Brunswick, New-Jersey. 
 
 Stephen Stone, merchant, Derby, Connecticut. 
 
 Hon. Benjamin Say, Philadelphia. 
 
 Duncan Shaw, Cadiz. 
 
 George Shipton, Cadiz. 
 
 Richard Sheil, Esq. Cadiz. 
 
 John Smith, Esq. merchant, Gibraltar. 
 
 Charles L. Snow, Boston. 
 
 Richard Stephens, Baltimore. 
 
 Strang and Co. Cadiz. 
 
 Baron Shubart, Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipoten 
 tiary of the King of Denmark at Naples. 
 
 Senior Vincent Salucci, Madrid, 2 copies. 
 
 Marquis de St. Andrian y de Santiago, Madrid. 
 
 Gabriel de Sancha, bookseller, Madrid, 4 copies. 
 
 John Skinner, New-Haven, Connecticut. 
 
 Hon. Nathaniel Smith, Woodbury, Connecticut. 
 
 Hon. John C. Smith, Sharon, Connecticut. 
 
 William S. Smith, Esq. New-York. 
 
 Lyman Stone, merchant, Derby, Connecticut, 
 
 Alpheus Stone, Derby, Connecticut. 
 
 Levi Stoddard, Lichfield, Connecticut, 
 
 William L. Strong, New-Haven. 
 
 George W. Strong, Yale College, 
 
 Henry Swift, Yale College. 
 
 William Stuart, Esq. Geneva, New- York. 
 
 David Stuart, Esq. Mount Washington. 
 
 Thomas R. Smith, New-York. 
 
 Peter Gerard Stuyvesant, Esq. New-York. 
 
 William Short;, New-York,
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 His Excellency Caleb Strong, Esq. Governor of Massachusetts. 
 
 Hon. Theodore Sedgwick, Esq. Judge of the Supreme Court of 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 Hon. Simeon Strong, Esq. Judge of the Supreme Court of Mas 
 sachusetts. 
 
 Hon. Samuel Sewall, Esq. Judge of the Supreme Court of Mas 
 sachusetts. 
 
 Hon. William Stedman, Member of Congress, Lancaster, Massa 
 chusetts. 
 
 Jeremiah Stickney, Dover, New-Hampshire. 
 
 Hon. Woodbury Storer, Esq. Portland. 
 
 Samuel Southmayd, Middletown, Connecticut. 
 
 Thomas Stevens, Beverly, Massachusetts. 
 
 Jos. Swasey, Ipswich, Massachusetts. 
 
 Thomas Savage, Hartford, Connecticut. 
 
 Isaac Shaw, Roxbury, Massachusetts. 
 
 William Smith, Esq. Boston. 
 
 William Scollay, Esq. Boston. 
 
 Russell Sturgis, Esq. Boston. 
 
 Charles P. Sumner, Esq. Boston. 
 
 Samuel Snelling, Boston. 
 
 William Story, Boston. 
 
 Nathaniel Smith, Boston. 
 
 James Sprague, Boston. 
 
 Samuel Stratford, Boston. 
 
 His Excellency Jonathan Trumbull, Governor of the State of 
 Connecticut. 
 
 Henry Terry, Esq. Enfield, Connecticut. 
 
 Dominick Thomas Terry, Esq. Cadiz. 
 
 Anthony Terry, Vice-Consul of the United States at Cadiz. 
 
 George Trenholm, Charleston, South- Carolina. 
 
 The Count Lally Tolendal, White-Hall, London. 
 
 Edward Tilghman, Esq. Philadelphia. 
 
 Coults Trotter, Esq. No. 46 Berner's-street, London. 
 
 Matthias B. Tallmage, Herkimer County, New- York. 
 
 David Tomlinson, Esq. Oxford, Connecticut. 
 
 Levi Tomlinson, Esq. Derby, Connecticut. 
 
 Russel Tomlinson, Esq. Derby, Connecticut. 
 
 Hon. George Thatcher, Esq. Judge of the Supreme Court of 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 Hon. Samuel Taggart, Member of Congress, Colrain, Massachu 
 setts. 
 
 Hon. Samuel Thatcher, Member of Congress, Warren, Maine. 
 
 Hon. Samuel Tenney, Member of Congress, Exeter, New- 
 Hampshire.
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 Hon. William Tudor, Boston. 
 
 William Tudor, jun. Boston. 
 
 Joseph Taylor, Esq. Boston. 
 
 Joseph Tilden, Boston. 
 
 Nicholas Thorndike, Beverly. 
 
 Ebenezer Torrey, Lancaster, Massachusetts. 
 
 William Torrey, jun. Hanover, Massachusetts. 
 
 His Excellency Don Mariano Luis de Urgueso, acting first Secre 
 tary of State of his Catholic Majesty. 
 
 Charles Vaughan, Esq. Madrid, 2 copies. 
 
 Don Manuel de la Vina, merchant, Madrid. 
 
 Hon. J. B. Varnum, Member of Congress, Dracutt, Massachu 
 setts. 
 
 Solomon Vose, Esq. Northfield, Massachusetts. 
 
 James Watson, Esq. New-York. 
 
 John Walsh, Cadiz. 
 
 John White, Esq. merchant, Cadiz. 
 
 Joseph White, Esq. Cadiz. 
 
 John Ward, sen. Esq. London. 
 
 John Ward, jun. London. 
 
 William Ward, London. 
 
 Mary Anne Ward, London. 
 
 William Walker, Portsmouth, New-Hampshire. 
 
 Richard Watson, Philadelphia. 
 
 John G. Williams, Esq. Norfolk, Virginia. 
 
 William Woodbridge, Savannah, Georgia. 
 
 F. H. Wollaston, Esq. Consul of the United States at Genoa. 
 
 John Woods, Esq. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. 
 
 Samuel Wyllys, Esq. Hartford, Connecticut. 
 
 C. R. and G. Webster, booksellers, Albany, New-York. 
 
 Noah Webster, jun. Esq. New-Haven. 
 
 Rev. Ezra Wetter, Wilbraham, Massachusetts. 
 
 William W. Woolsey, merchant, New-York. 
 
 Hon. Lemuel Williams, Member of Congress, New-Bedford, 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 William Otis Wyer, Beverly, Massachusetts. 
 
 Charles Wheaton, Esq. Warren, Rhode-Island. 
 
 Jacob Warner, Medford, Massachusetts. 
 
 John Whittlesey, Saybrook, Connecticut. 
 
 William Wait, Portland, 
 
 John Warren, M. D. Boston. 
 
 Redford Webster, M. D. Boston. 
 
 Thomas L. Winthrop, Esq. Boston, 2 copies* 
 
 Timothy Williams, Esq. Boston.
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 Arnold Welles, Esq. Boston. 
 
 William Wetmore, Esq. Boston. 
 
 Nathan Webb, Boston. 
 
 Moses Wheeler, Boston. 
 
 J. Waters, jun. Boston. 
 
 Obadiah Wright, Boston. 
 
 Sidney Williard, Cambridge, Massachusetts. 
 
 Moses Young, Consul of the United States at Madrid, 12 copies. 
 
 Don Bernardo Yriarte, of his Catholic Majesty's Council, Madrid. 
 
 Don Eugenio Yzquierdo, of the Council of W T ar, and Director of 
 
 the Cabinet of Natural History, Madrid. 
 Francis de Zea, Malaga. 
 
 DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDER. 
 
 Likeness of Col. Humphreys to face the title-page. 
 Plate representing the Medal to face page 357.
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 9, line 100, for " award" read -ward. 
 
 13, 257, for " fire" read sire. 
 25, 3, for " happienss" read happiness. 
 
 28, 42, for " the" read to. 
 
 32, 215, for " array'd" read untried. 
 
 38, 450, for " wrapt" read rapt. 
 
 65, 572, for " wrapt" read rapt. 
 71, 35 to 40, for two inverted commas, thus (" "), there 
 
 should be a single one, thus (' '). 
 71, 40, for "proceed" read proceeded. 
 
 110, 522, for " in" read of. 
 
 111, 549, for " ear-tinkfing" read ear-tingling. 
 
 112, 609, for " sleepy" read sleepless. 
 135, 331, for " has" read bast. 
 
 166, 119, dele (') at the end. 
 
 169, 220, for " whirl" read whirls.' 
 
 192, 11, in a part of the impression, for " vengeance" read 
 
 vengeance. 
 196, 12 from the bottom, for " number" read numbers. 
 
 234, 8 of Sonnet V. for " the" read tbee. 
 
 235, 11 of Sonnet VI. for " has" read bast. 

 
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