And who could tell, if reaching there They might not other laurels share And England's flag in triumph bear To the capitol, at Albany!!!

Sir George advanced, with fire and sword, The frigates were with vengeance stored, The strength of Mars was felt on board,-- When Downie gave the dreadful word, Huzza! for death or victory!

Sir George beheld the prize at stake, And, with his veterans, made the attack, Macomb's brave legions drove him back; And England's fleet approach'd to meet A desperate combat, on the lake.

With sulphurous clouds the heavens were black; We saw advance the Confiance, Shall blood and carnage mark her track, To gain dominion on the lake.

Then on our ships she pour'd her flame, And many a tar did kill or maim, Who suffer'd for their country's fame, Her soil to save, her rights to guard.

Macdonough, now, began his play, And soon his seamen heard him say, No Saratoga yields, this day, To all the force that Britain sends.

"Disperse, my lads, and man the waist, Be firm, and to your stations haste, And England from Champlain is chased, If you behave as you'll see me."

The fire began with awful roar; At our first flash the artillery tore From his proud stand, their commodore, A presage of the victory.

The skies were hid in flame and smoke, Such thunders from the cannon spoke, The contest such an aspect took As if all nature went to wreck!

From isle La Motte to Saranac[A]

[A] A river which rises from several small lakes among the mountains to the westward of Lake Champlain, and after a north easterly course of near seventy-five miles, enters the grand lake in the vicinity of Plattsburg.--_Freneau's note._

Amidst his decks, with slaughter strew'd, Unmoved, the brave Macdonough stood, Or waded through a scene of blood, At every step that round him stream'd:

He stood amidst Columbia's sons, He stood amidst dismounted guns, He fought amidst heart-rending groans, The tatter'd sail, the tottering mast.

Then, round about, his ship he wore, And charged his guns with vengeance sore, And more than Etna shook the sh.o.r.e-- The foe confess'd the contest vain.

In vain they fought, in vain they sail'd, That day; for Britain's fortune fail'd, And their best efforts nought avail'd To hold dominion on Champlain.

So, down their colors to the deck The vanquish'd struck--their ships a wreck-- What dismal tidings for Quebec, What news for England and her prince!

For, in this fleet, from England won, A favorite project is undone: Her sorrows only are begun-- And she may want, and very soon, Her armies for her own defence.

A DIALOGUE AT WASHINGTON'S TOMB

Genius of Virginia--and--Virginia.

_Genius._ Who are these that lawless come Washington! too near thy tomb?-- Are they those who, long before, Came to subjugate this sh.o.r.e?-- Are they those whom he repell'd, Captured, or imprison'd held?

Or the sons of those of old Cast in nature's rudest mould,-- Dear Virginia, can it be?

What a stain is laid on thee!

_Virginia._ Such a stain as I do swear Fills my swelling heart with care How to wash away the stain, How to be myself again.

From my breast the hero rose, In my soil his bones repose: But this insult to thy shade, Washington, shall be repaid.

_Genius._ Dear Virginia! tell me how?-- Tell me not, or tell me now, Can you wield the bolts of Jove, Seize the lightnings from above?

Tear the mountain from its base To confound this hated race, Who, with hostile step, presume To violate the honor'd tomb Of my bravest, n.o.blest son, Of th' immortal Washington!

_Virginia._ Not the artillery of the sky, Not the vengeance from on high Did I want, to guard my son, I have lightnings of my own!

But I wanted----

_Genius._ ----Wanted what?

Tell me now, or tell me not.

_Virginia._ Men, whom Washington had taught, Men of fire, and men of thought, All their spirits in a glow, Ever ready for the foe; Born to meet the hostile shock, St.u.r.dy as the mountain oak-- Active, steady, on their guard, For the scene of death prepared; Such I wanted--say no more; Time, perhaps, may such restore.

_Genius._ By the powers that guard this spot, Want them longer you shall not, I, the patron of your land, From this moment take command, Kindle flames in every breast, Thirst of vengeance for the past; Vengeance, that from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e Shall dye your bay with english gore, And see them leave their thousands slain, If they dare to land again: This is all I choose to say-- Seize your armour--let's away!

SIR PETER PETRIFIED

On the Modern Sir Peter Parker's[207] Expedition to Kent Island in Chesapeake Bay.

--1814--

Sir Peter came, with bold intent, To persecute the men of Kent His flag aloft display'd: He came to see their pleasant farms, But ventured not without his arms To talk with man or maid.

And then the gallant colonel Reed Said, "we must see the man indeed; He comes perhaps in want-- Who knows but that his stores are out: Tis hard to dine on mere sour krout, His water may be scant."

He spoke--but soon the men of Kent Discover'd what the errand meant, And some, discouraged, said, "Sir Peter comes to petrify, He points his guns, his colors fly, His men for war array'd!"

Secure, as if they own'd the land, Advanced this daring naval band, As if in days of peace; Along the sh.o.r.e they, prowling, went, And often ask'd some friends in Kent Where dwelt the fattest geese?

The farmers' geese were doom'd to bleed; But some there were, with colonel Reed, Who would not yield a.s.sent; And said, before the geese they take, Sir Peter must a bargain make With us, the boys of Kent.

The Britons march'd along the sh.o.r.e, Two hundred men, or somewhat more; Next, through the woods they stray'd: The geese, still watchful, as they went, To save the capitol of Kent Their every step betray'd.

The british march'd with loaded gun To seize the geese that gabbling run About the isle of Kent: But, what could hardly be believed, Sir Peter was of life bereaved Before he pitch'd his tent.

Some kentish lad, to save the geese, And make their noisy gabbling cease Had took a deadly aim: By kentish hands sir Peter fell, His men retreated, with a yell And lost both geese and game!

Now what I say, I say with grief, That such a knight, or such a chief On such an errand died!!!

When men of worth their lives expose For little things, where little grows They make the very geese their foes; The geese his fall deride:

And, sure, they laugh, if laugh they can, To see a star and garter'd man For life of goose expose his own, And bite the dust, with many a groan-- Alas! a gander cry'd-- "Behold, (said he,) a man of fame Who all the way from England came No more than just to get the name Of Peter Petrified!"

[207] Sir Peter Parker, commander of the British Frigate _Menelaus_, was prominent for a month in the blockading squadron in Chesapeake Bay during the summer of 1814. After the burning of Washington he was ordered down the bay "but Sir Peter said he 'must have a frolic with the yankees before he left them' and on the 30th of August after dancing and drinking they proceeded to the sport and made a circuitous route to surprise Col. Read encamped in Moore's fields not far from Georgetown X Roads on the eastern sh.o.r.e of Maryland. The Colonel was fully apprised of their proceedings.... The ground was obstinately contended for nearly an hour when the enemy retreated leaving thirteen killed and three wounded on the field. It is ascertained that they carried off seventeen others among whom was Sir Peter who, with several others, are since dead."--_Niles' Register._

ON THE DEATH OF GENERAL ROSS[208]