Early Writing in Canada
15th Sep 2021Posted in: Early Writing in Canada, George Cockings 0
War: An Heroic Poem




Page 4, 15.2

“heroes” changed to “heroes’”

Page 60, 27.12

“Grecians” changed to “Grecians’”

Page 61, 22.3

“Trojans” changed to “Trojans’”

Page 76, 32.1

“womens” changed to “women’s”

Page 90, 13.2

“Frenchmens” changed to “Frenchmen’s”

Page 90, 21.6

“Frenchmens” changed to “Frenchmen’s”

Page 94, 6.1

“Admid” changed to “Amid”

Page 108, 14.4

“Frenchmens” changed to “Frenchmen’s”

Page 135, 3.7

“Britons” changed to “Britons’”

Page 142, 2.9

“months” changed to “months’”

Page 159, 6.2

“Britons” changed to “Britons’”



[handwritten: illegible phrase]



Taking of MINORCA by the French,


Reduction of MANILLA;





Printed for the AUTHOR, and Sold by S. HOOPER, at Cæsar’s Head, the Corner of the New    

    Church in the Strand.



[unnumbered page]




[illustration: R]EADERS, of whatever rank, or denomination, if ye should receive any pleasure from, and approve the following lines, as to their general design, it is the summit of my ambition.

     I AM no writer by profession, but at my leisure hours, wrote the Siege of Louisbourg, in the winter of 1758; in Newfoundland, to amuse myself, and friends: and had no thoughts of printing it. But in the great, and ever-memorable year of fifty-nine, so repeated, and rapid, were our conquests, both be sea, and land, in Europe, [unnumbered page] Africa, and America; so often came news of our successes from every part, (like gunpowder, when touch’d by the match,) my fancy took fire! the rapt’rous joy grew too great to be contain’d within bounds! and I thought among the rest, I would add my share of applause, and strive to register in the book of fame, the heroic action perform’d by our troops, and tars; I therefore assum’d my pen, and compleated the following Poem: and being at length persuaded by some gentlemen, (to whom I repeated it,) I have ventur’d it in the press, and submit it to the public censure, from which there is no appeal.

     BY their indulgence, I have carried it through three impressions; the first, in London, in the year 1760, to the raising of the siege of Quebec, by General Murray, &c. &c. The second, in Piscataqua (or New Hampshire) Colony, in America, in 1761, to the same date; and a third time, in Massachusetts Colony, (or New England,) on the Continent, in 1762, to the reduction of the [illegible word] by the Earl [illegible phrase] &c. [page iv]

   MANY faults, doubtless, may be found in the Poem; for I perhaps, (like a tender mother, fond of her own offspring,) view it with partial prejudice; and as she can see fire, in a dull, languid eye, beauty, in a rustic, freckled face, and symetry, even in distorted limbs; I fondly fancy a poetic fire glides through every part of it; think those lines run smooth, and fall with a proper cadence, which perhaps are rough, and dissonant; and though I should fancy a just proportion in all its parts; where I think it most compleat, to others it may seem the most deficient. For the best Gallic cooks, (though they are so universally admir’d,) could never, yet, send a dish to table, so elegantly compos’d, as to please the palate of every feeder. How then can I expect to give a general satisfaction, to the warriors, the wits; the scholars, and the men of sense; and to every other class of Readers, whose sentiments, doubtless, will not run concordant with my own. But I have done all I can to give satisfaction, and rouze a spirit of emulation in every Reader. And if on the persual, any gentleman, [page v] that shall find I have made any material omissions, will be so good as to leave me a notice of it at Mr. HOOPER’S, bookseller, the corner of the New Church, in the Strand, and directed for me: if ever I should be favour’d by the public approbation, so far, as to print a fifth impression, he may depend it shall be inserted, should the hint be suitable to the design of my Poem. But if it is a hint, dictated by a party spirit, he may save himself the trouble, and conclude that it will never be inserted.

     FOR my Design in this Poem is not to calumniate any man, nor even to write a true narration of what any particular person may have done amiss, through cowardice, inadvertency, inexperience, incautious confidence in other promises, pride, or the like. Neither do I meddle with the interest of the two opposing parties in Great Britain, and Ireland. But my sole design is this, (fir’d by a love of my Country! and a generous esteem for all who have fought, bled, or dy’d for my Country’s cause! To exert my [page vi] utmost efforts, to inroll in the life of fame their names; to call them forth in the fairest point of view; and dress their amazing actions! In all the elegance of harmonious numbers, and poetic truth! to warm the heart of those who fought, and live! to give a just deserv’d encomium, on the worthy warring dead! and inspire with heroic sentiments, the soul of every youth which reads, and hath not yet been reaping the honourable harvest of martial glory!

     *HE, who governs his People with regal lenity, and paternal fondness: those who hazard their Royal Persons in battle, for their Country’s welfare: the minsters and patriots, that nobly plan her warlike shcemes; who firmly stem the tide of opposition, which would break down, and over-run, the bounds of her happy constitution; with all those, who draw the Sword in Britannia’s quarrel, whether Englishmen, Caledonians, or Hibernians, and carry their patriot schemes, (dreadfully,)

* This paragraph was first printed in 1760.    

[page vii]

into a wasting execution! All such as these, demand duty, allegiance, and a generous acknowledgment of every heart, sensibly touch’d with a due sense of their kingly care! successful plans! and heroic performances! and such a King, such princes, patriots, and ministers, has England got. And such warriors we have, in the royal navy, and army of Great Britain, that common sense, and gratitude, bid us revere them! and speak of their great merits, in the most exalted strain! and so long as I write, I shall always bestow my encomiums on those, who plan my Country’s good, keep peace, and amity, so much as possible in the land; fight her battles, and pour destruction on her inveterate foes.—These, I say, shall employ my tongue, to sing their fame, and give them due honours, of what country, or party soever: for he that does the Nation good, deserves a grateful acknowledgment of the same.

     AND I solemnly declare, if I have omitted any gentleman’s name, which had distinguish’d himself; it proceeds not from [page viii] the least disesteem; but from inadvertency alone; or perhaps from a greater reason, which is this, that I never heard his name mention’d, or hearing it, quite forgot; and consequently could not insert it.

     I HAVE, as well as I can, through the whole Poem, preserv’d a continu’d narration of the events, as they happen’d; yet I could not avoid interjecting some things, where they scarce seem’d to claim a place: but as I thought they scarce deserv’d discussion by themselves, I did it to avoid a fruitless repetition of sieges, surrenders, attacks, and skirmishes, and to keep the Poem from swelling to too great a bulk: I mean those places in Africa, the Indies, &c. placing the time of their reduction, mostly at the time, when the Armaments fail’d from hence, destin’d against them; though in reality, they fell long after, beneath the heavy battle of those tars, and troops, which sail’d thither, arm’d with angry Britain’s vengeance! For it was in less compass than three years, the plans where formed, and carried into execution, against Louisbourg, [page ix] the Continent, and Quebec: against Maloes, Cherburg, and the Gallic fleets; and all the other expeditions against our enemies, in Africa, &c.

     So that I scarce knew how to digest the whole into a regular narration, and not vary in a point, as to the time of events; and therefore I thought proper to throw in together, the attacks, and reductions of Guadaloup, Senegal, Granada, St. Martin’s, Marigalante, Surat, Chandernagore, Calcutta, and the Nabob twice defeated, under the command of Watson, Pocock, Moore, Clive, Coote, Draper, Marsh, Keppel, Mason, Barrington, Sayer, &c. &c. &c.

     THESE, I therefore reckon’d up in the first of the Poem, when I mention’d Great Britain rousing to battle; her armament for war, and pouring her victorious troops round about on every side; since it was near about the same time they fail’d from England; and I hope as I have mention’d such event happen’d, and under such commanders, [page x] it will pass without undergoing a severe criticism.

     WHILST General Wolfe, Admiral Saunders, &c. are beleaguering, and attacking Quebec; I have likewise mention’d by way of episode, what General Amherst, General Johnson, &c. &c. &c. atchiev’d on the Continent; though perhaps, some of it was done long before: but I scarce knew a place, in which I could insert it more conveniently; and I hope the learned chronologer will let me escape, without passing too harsh a censure on that passage. And if I should have transgress’d the rules of narration, in a series of such great events, or deviated from the most exact niceties, which some people may imagine a work of this nature requires, I hope the generality of my Readers, of candour, sense, and leaning, will put a favourable construction on it, and consider I am no more than man; and therefore very liable to great errors; and what a vast undertaking, for a young man’s fist essay, I have now in hand. [page xi]

     I DO not pretend to be a first rate Poet; perhaps, may never deserve the title of a Poet. But I am conscious of my writing truth, (without flattery;) unadorn’d with poetic fiction, (which like a nauseous daubing, on a beautiful face, hides the sweet attractive smiles, and native simplicity of the features:) and I design’d the poem for the honour of my King and Country.

     I TOOK the first hint of my satirical address to Lewis, from a gentleman of the navy; who inserted in a Magazine, the complaint of Lewis, from a gentleman of the navy; who inserted in a Magazine, the complaint of Lewis, in the last war, for the loss of about twelve or fourteen of his ships: which was in prose, to this purport, as well as I can now remember.

     “Oh, Maurepas! my glory, and renown is gone! my Diamonds, and Rubies, are no more!

          Thou Ambuscade, hast fallen into a snare! Thou Panther, wast worried by the British

          Mastiffs! I am no more invincible! deserted by Mars, and [page xii] Neptune! The Severn

          is return’d to its ancient course! GEORGE has possession of the Trident, and commands

          the Ocean! and I am stung to the heart, by the Hornet!”

     I WISH I could keep pace, in smooth lines, and a nervous diction, with all the heroic actions, perform’d by the matchless warriors of the three Nations; whose circumspection in looking out for our enemies, and conduct, and undaunted bravery, in the day of battle, no pen can flatter. But this is a thing only to be wish’d, and not to be perform’d, by the most arduous application, of the great admirer of their deeds.


[page xiii]



THE Argument to the Whole Poem,

Page 1—8

Address to the Patriots and Heroes of Great Britain,

     Ireland, and America,

9, 10

Introduction, Shewing the Design of the whole Work,


BOOK I. Minorca surrender’d to the French,


The English in America relieve Madrass, and seize Senegal,    


Take Granada, Guadalop, Surat, Marigalante, Chandenagore, etc.


General Clive deposes one Nabob, and sets up another,


The English fleet suffers greatly in a Storm off Louisbourg,

28, 29

And is obliged to return to England,


A Fleet equipp’d for the Reduction of Cape Breton under the command of

     Admiral Boscawen,

31, 32

The gallant and fearless attack of Louisbourg described,

33, 34

Loiusbourg taken,


BOOK II. Prince EDWARD, Lord Howe, &c. take Cherburg,


The English destroy the French flat-bottom’d boats all along the coast,


A terrible pannic seizes the French fleet,


[page xiv]

Defeat of De Clue, and the French squadron by Admiral Boscawen,


BOOK III. A Fleet sent against Quebec,


The vigilance of Admiral Saunders, and the activity of the British tars, in

     rendering useless, and of no effect the French fireships and fire-floates;  



Unsuccessful landing at Montmorenci,


The besieging and storming of Quebec describ’d,


Lord Howe is kill’d before the walls of Ticonderago,


The Province of Massachusetts Bay erect a monument to his memory in

     Westminster Abbey,


Wolfe’s Death, who dies like a Briton, and true Son of Mars,


General grief occasioned by his unfortunate death,


Quebec submits to the superior bravery of the English troops,


Supplement to the Siege of Quebec


Relates, that General Townshend, after the death of General Wolfe,  

     undertook, and continued the Siege till surrender’d,


BOOK IV. Conflans sent by the French king to invade England,


Is met at Sea by the English Fleet, the engagement describ’d,


The French beaten, and their ships burnt and taken,


BOOK V. A recapitulation of England’s victories over the French,


Thurot makes a descent at Carrickfergus in Ireland,


The bravery of the troops in the castle,


Thurot, in his retuun, is attack’d by the English, and slain, whereupon the

     French strike,


BOOK VI. This treats of the attempt of the French to retake Quebec; the

     attack and brave defence describ’d. The French repuls’d with great loss,  



[page xv]

BOOK VII. Great Britain prepares for the invasion of Beleisle,

139, 140

Commodore Keppel and General Hodgson take it


The difficulties of the attack at Martinico, and how surmounted,


A ravine what, described,


The submission of the Place to the English troops,


BOOK VIII. The Spaniards take the Part of the French,


The English land against the Havannah,


The difficulties attending the siege,


The garrison and inhabitants submit to the English


BOOK IX. The French surprize and take Newfoundland,


Is soon after retaken by the English,


BOOK X. The English appear before Manilla,


Arzpo the governor’s speech to his Spanish soldiers,


Who tells his troops, in order to animate them, the following delusive tale,

     That the Lord had sent down an angel from heaven to fight for them,  

     and slay the English,


Against all opposition, difficulty and bravery on the part of the Spaniards,

     the English furiously storm and take the town,


A satirical, exulting Address to Lewis Le Grand, alias Le Petit, on the loss  

     of his ships, forts, towns and islands, &c. in the two wars,


A Comic Relation of the Troubles of Lewis XV,


On Monsieur Thurot’s descent and defeat,


On the heroic Taylors, belonging to Elliot’s light horse, who fought so

     bravely in Germany,


[page xvi]

[ I ]


ARGUMENT to the whole POEM.

OF Providence; and Britain’s happy state,

By heav’n preserv’d, from black impeding fate,

Of Gallia check’d, in her all grasping pride,

And victory confirmed on Britain’s side;

Of Gallia’s friend, drawn in to pay the cost,

His royal navy thinn’d, his millions lost;

This be my theme, this be my sweet employ,

To sing the strain, with gratitude and joy!

   Whilst others (in heroic, lofty verse)

Great Fred’rick’s name, and Fred’rick’s praise rehearse,

Mine be the talk, the British war to sing,

Great Britain’s heroes, and Great Britain’s King.

   By arms, and battles, gloriously inspir’d,

(Replete with joy! With rapt’rous ardour fir’d!) [unnumbered page]

I trace grim death, and our triumphant bands,

Through Indian, African, and Gallic lands;

Where Englishmen, at martial glory’s call,

Throng to the war, and scourge the plotting Gaul;

Where Caledonians, with a warlike flame,

Hew thro’ French ranks, the path to deathless fame:

Hibernians brave, with emulating glow!

Charge, pierce, repel, and chace the vanquish’d foe;

Fame, honour, liberty, each bosom warms;

In union dreadful! great in feats of arms!

All strive t’excel, each other wou’d outvie,

They greatly conquer, or they bravely die.

   O’er ocean’s space, my fancy wings its way;

Where GEORGE the Third now rules with sov’reign sway:

Thro’ Neptune’s realm, pursues our dauntless tars

’Midst blust’ring storms, and dreadful naval wars!

The genius of the nation, rouz’d once more,

With vengeful thunder arm’d, they shake the Gallic shore.

   GEORGE, William, Edward, swell the lofty strain;

GEORGE, who commands unrivall’d o’er the main:

His active tars, his naval thunders roll;

And launch destruction round, from pole to pole!

   Our Patriots names, and merits, I proclaim,

To decorate the great heroic theme: [page 2]

Who stand unshock’d, amidst the glorious cause:

The Gallic dread! the props of British laws!

Their souls, their sentiments, and their desires,

Incorporate, like two bright flaming fires.

I sing the PITT; French lines cou’d never sound,

Greatly capacious! wond'rously profound!

Where Lewis, and his politics, are drown’d.

   Next these stands rank’d the skilful LIGONIER,

In battle brave; and to his sov’reign dear;

At Dettingen, (like Hector in the field)

Hibernia’s boast; Britannia’s faithful shield;

Fierce in assault (when young,) matur’d with age,

A hoary hero! and a warlike sage!

   Minorca’s fall I sing, and BLAKENEY’S name,

BLAKENEY the brave: worthy of warlike fame.

Boscawen, Amherst, Hawke, (our bulwark strong,)

Clive, Monckton, Saunders, grace the martial song.

Brave Townshend’s worth I sing: with all who fought;

And seiz’d the palm, a dying * victor fought!

There Barrington, with Marsh, and Murray, shines;

Coote’s, Mason’s, Sayer’s names, adorn the lines;

   * General James Wolfe, who enjoy’d the satisfaction of hearing the enemy ran, before he expir’d, on the Plain of Abraham, before Quebec.    

[page 3]

Holmes, Hardy, Watson, Pocock, honour claim,

Who gain’d in distant lands immortal fame!

Baird, Howe *, Speke, Lockhart, Dennis, are inroll’d,

Rivals in fame, and naval warriors bold!

Here Keppel shines; whose pow’r the Spaniard felt:

Whose war, ‘gainst Gaul, had threefold † veng’ance dealt.

All who engag’d where Hawke to conquest flew,

Are register’d, with their encomiums due:

With those; whose arms the burnish’d broad swords wield;

Macpherson, Fraser, terrors of the field:

Burton, whose soul is full of active zeal;

Walsh, Dalling, Ince, who fought for Britain’s weal.

I sing brave Granby’s fame, and Minden’s plain;

The gallant Philips, Drummond, and Macbean ‡.

Those heroes’ names I sing, their worth I tell,

Before whose war, strong Martinico fell.

Manilla’s fall, Hispania’s wretched fate;

Cornish, and Draper’s names, I celebrate.

   * Lord Howe, who commanded his Majesty’s ship, Magnanime.

   † The honourable Augustus Keppel, before he went against Cuba, took Goree, commanded at sea against Beleisle, and sunk the Thesee, a 74 gun ship, in the engagement in Quiberon-Bay.

   ‡ Three officers of the artillery, belonging to Great Britain; which was so well served on that day.

[page 4]

Cuba subdu’d, the Moro flung to ground;

Pocock, and Albermarle, with vict’ry crown’d:

There Britain’s troops, and tars, unrivall’d shone,

In toilsome siege, amidst the torrid zone!

The gallant Lindsay, Hervy, Haviland:

Grant, Forbes, Keppel, due respect demand.

Hispania’s warring sons, my numbers tell,

Who fiercely fought, and for their country fell:

Lewis Velasco *, and Gonsales, bold;

Whose worth, with pleasure, conqu’ring Britons told,

They bravely dy’d: but oh! how greatly fam’d!

By foes esteem’d, ’mongst Britain’s heroes nam’d.

   I sing the gallant Ochterlony’s † fall,

By savage foes, and a more savage Gaul;

When Peyton †, to revenge his overthrow,

Two scalpers spurn’d, down to the shades below.

   * The gallant Don Lewis de Velasco, captain of one of their men of war, and governor of the Moro; fiercely resolved, fix’d himself by the colours, and defended them, sword in hand, ’till mortally wounded in the storm.

   † † Mr. Ochterlony, was a Scotch gentleman, and captain of a company of Royal American Grenadiers. Mr. Peyton, was an Irish gentleman, and lieutenant of the same company: They were inseparable friends, and companions. The whole story of their gallantry, when wounded, and left on the field of battle, at the unsuccessful landing at Quebec, may be read at large, in my siege of Quebec.

[page 5]

   Amherst, and Johnson, live, heroes rever’d,

By Britain’s sons; to Britain’s king endear’d.

Howe *, Rogers, Forbes, Schomberg, Bradstreet bold;

Are in Britannia’s warlike life inroll’d:

With ev’ry hero, fir’d by manly glow,

Who hurl’d our veng’ance on the cruel foe.

These rang’d victorious, thro’ Canadia’s land,

And pluck’d the hatchet from the scalper’s hand.

   I sing Thurot’s descent, and overthrow;

A gallant warrior; and a gen’rous foe:

Whose fall, with honour crown’d the worthy † trine,

And made their names, in Britain’s annals shine.

   Each soldier signaliz’d, each daring tar!

(The lightnings! and the thunderbolts of war!)

Thro’ glory’s paths I ardently pursue!

But only write, what they alone can do.

Like radiant Sol, when at meridian height,

The heroes blaze with self-refulgent light.

   * Lord viscount Howe; who was unfortunately slain, in the expedition against Ticonderoga.

   † Capt. Elliot, Capt. Logie, and Capt. Clements; of his majesty’s ships, Æolus, Brilliant and Pallas.

[page 6]

   The last efforts I sing, which Lewis made;

Our filh’ry stopp’d, and our stagnated trade:

Fort William’s walls, by chosen Frenchmen mann’d,

The false-nam’d * conquerors of Newfoundland.

Their rout I sing, when (for the battle warm’d)

Amherst arriv’d, with England’s veng’ance arm’d:

Whose gallant troops, Great Britain’s right maintain’d,

And Newfoundland, for GEORGE the Third regain’d.

Ternay’s † escape I sing, and shameful flight,

In silent gloom, and hid in friendly night;

When Graves, and Coldville, dar’d him to the fight.

   I sing how Wolfe, the faithless foe engag’d;

(For where Wolfe led, the battle fiercely rag’d!)

The havock of his war, the mould’ring walls!

Quebec’s, Cape Breton’s fate; the conquer’d Gauls!

His warlike deeds, no doubt, you’ll all approve,

Whom foes admire! and conqu’ring Britons love:

By bloody toils, he gain’d on hostile ground,

That honour great; with which his mem’ry’s crown’d:

   * The garrison they took possession of, in St. John’s, was called Fort William, and the French proudly stil’d themselves, Conquerors of Newfoundland; and yet dar’d not proceed so far as the Isle of Bois, about 27 miles from thence: Much less so far as Placentia, to reduce that place.

   † The French admiral at St. John’s, who stole off at night, without fighting.

[page 7]

In Britain’s cause (amidst the martial strife)

He fought, he conquer’d, and resign’d his life:

So Sampson flung proud Dagaon’s temple down,

Gain’d glorious death! and conquest! and renown!

   Where English, Scotch, and bold Hibernians storm,

(A formidable, triple union form!)

The three-fold pow’rs, their gallantry display,

Like powder, shot, and fire, impetuous force their way!


[page 8]






Great Britain, Ireland, and America.

YE Patriots sage! who plann’d the deep designs

Of war; ’midst which, Britannia dreadful shines!

On whom She leans, with great exulting glow:

Where e’er you point, She strikes the waiting blow.

Ye mighty Warriors! (terrors of the world!)

By whom, at land, and sea, our thunder’s hurl’d:

To you, this Book is sent, with filial fear;

Craves fost’ring smiles, and begs paternal care:

You! who (like David’s worthies) round the throne

Of mighty GEORGE, form a tremendous zone!

No servile flattery degrades the lines;

Here truth well known, in native lustre shines.

No base sinister views, no envious rage,

Nor party venom, taints a single page.

Here seats of arms, in fairest light are shown,

In ev’ry quarter of the glob well known: [unnumbered page]

I ev’ry party, corps, and country blend,

All join’d, all fought, to gain the glorious end.

From you the transports flow, ’tis you inspire,

As blust’ring winds, to flame, blow latent fire.

From you I caught the great resistless glow,

Whilst you dealt veng’ance on th’ insulting foe;

Whilst you, the schemes of states, and empires scan;

And counter-act each well concerted plan;

Whilst you, on land, the pride of Gaul restrain,

Or sweep victorious o’er the swelling main,

My fancy burns, transported with delight!

With armoured wing’d! pursues you to the fight.

You rous’d my soul, to form the martial lines;

Oh! prop the cause, where truth and honour shines:

Since from your deeds, the growing theme must rise,

Accept the tribute due, and deign to patronize.


[page 10]



WHEN I at first, poetic ardor knew,

And big with martial themes, my bosom grew;

From pregnant fancy, fir’d by warlike worth,

My rising thoughts, prepar’d to sally forth:

In years a child, in litt’rature more young,

With secret transport, on the theme I hung:

I heard much talk of Dettingen’s fam’d fight,

Where Lewis bow’d beneath the Lion’s might.

Grown more mature, (a manly age attain’d,)

The strong impressions on my mind remain’d.

I wish’d a day, like that, to grace my pen,

When GEORGE the second, fought at Dettingen;

Whose presence banish’d all desponding dread,

And thro’ the ranks, an emulation spread:

Whilst brave Augustus, from his royal Sire,

Caught the great flame, and burn’d with martial fire.

Methought, I trod the glorious sanguin’d way;

When Cumberland pierc’d thro’ the French array! [unnumbered page]

Sometimes, I view’d intreprid Ligonier!

Plunging thro’ deaths! and void of grov’ling fear!

GEORGE stood like Jove, amid a thunder-storm;

These (like his bolts,) the Gallic ranks deform.

The triumphs, and the terrors of the fight,

Rose to my view, and play’d across my sight:

Quick thro’ the chace, my flying fancy sped,

When gens d’armes, and main corps in pannic fled:

Headlong they drove, afraid to stop for breath;

Rush’d thro’ the Rhine, and plung’d to watry death!

Colours deserted, ’mongst the wounded lie;

And hostile standards wear a purple dye:

Guns, pikes, spontoons, in wild disorder spread,

Promiscuous lie, among the num’rous dead:

Drums, horses, chiefs, riv’d helms, and spouting brains;

Breast-plates, and loathsome carnage loads the plains:

So the fam’d field Dettingen appear’d,

With Gallic troops bestrew’d, with Gallic blood besmear’d.

At length hostilities, and battles cease,

And Europe rested in a welcome peace.

By av’rice rouz’d; spurr’d on by native hate,

Such was the rancour of our neighb’ring state;

They seiz’d our lands, and strove our trade to marr,

And forc’d Great Britain, once more into war:

Now jarring nations for destruction glow,

And peace once more was banish’d from below.

For fraudful Gaul, (whose king all concord hates,)

Dissolv’d the union of the European states, [page 12]

And like a fury, (with her flaming brands,)

Spread wasting war, thro’ wild Canadia’s lands:

Or like grim Pluto, (with infernal bribes,)

To murder rouz’d less cruel scalping tribes:

The Gallic savage: Vaudreuil * was sent,

With cruel Montcalm, * on destruction bent!

By hell inspir’d (with unrelenting hearts,)

They taught the Savages, * new murd’ring arts:

Long, (unreveng’d,) they dreadful terror spread!

(Sons, husbands, wives, mothers, and daughters bled!)

Till Amherst, Johnson, and Provincials rose,

And arm’d with veng’ance, scourg’d our savage foes.

With terrors cloath’d, and fearless warlike flame,

English, Hibernians, Caledonians came.

Brave Howe’s last breath, at honour’s call was spent,

He fell, bewail’d thro’ all the Continent.

Careless of life, and prodigal of blood;

The gallant Wolfe, in ev’ry battle stood.

   * * * I have often heard it reported, that Mons. Vaudrueil had the scalps of many English people hung up in his parlour, with labels on them; and with a cruel delight seemed to take an infernal satisfaction in shewing them to others, and telling them the names of the persons to whom they belonged; and like a true devil incarnate would boast so many fell by his means. And as to Mons. Montcalm’s behaviour; his perfidy, ungenerous, truce-breaking, unmanly, cruel, and savage-like disposition, both at Fort William, and many other places on the Continent, it is so well known, and has been so severely felt, that it needs no recital here.

[page 13]

His mighty war, the French could not sustain;

He fell, victorious, on Canadia’s plain.

What warring patriot, wou’d not bravely fall!

If like a Wolfe, he humbled lofty Gaul!

Oh, rapt’ring thought; to have a Brunswick’s eye

Lucid with tears! a Ligonier to sigh!

To have an honest Pitt, with grateful sense

Of his great worth, display his eloquence!

To have a British senate, in a flame

Of gratitude, perpetuate his name!

To have Great Britain, and Hibernia grieve!

A continent, their mournful tribute give!

To charm! to rouze! inflame each hero’s mind;

To be in ev’ry fair one’s heart inshrin’d!

All this, had Wolfe: this, may each warrior gain,

Who fights like Wolfe, and is, midst glorious conquest slain!

When Maloe’s fleets, in English flames expir’d;

The burning news, my teeming fancy fir’d:

I trace’d prince EDWARD, close to Cherburg’s wall,

And saw the pride of France before him fall:

My raptur’d bosom, big with pleasure grew,

When Boscawen oppos’d, and beat De Clue:

Who shrank, o’er-pow’r’d, from his impetuous fire,

And left his Ocean * in the flames t’expire.

But oh! who can the wond’rous glow disclose?

When Hawke, (by tars esteem’d) beat Britain’s foes?

Whilst he with rapid flight to conquest flew,

Conflans devoid of many courage grew;


   * Mons. De Clue commanded the ship Ocean.

[page 14]

He led the van, the rear, and center run;

And England’s fire devour’d the Royal Sun *!

As in his heart, who claps his darling Fair,

The mighty transports flow, beyond compare!

(Torrents of joy within his bosom roll;

And pleasure fills his captivated soul!)

My joys rush’d in, like a tumultuous flood;

The pond’rous pleasure trill’d along my blood:

When certain news arriv’d to glad our land,

(Which shall unparallel’d for ages stand,)

Our troops had giv’n the num’rous Gauls a check,

And Townshend had possession of Quebec;

All these events, and more, my breast inspir’d;

By warmth, unknown before, my soul was fir’d,

To sing th’exploits Britannia’s sons have done,

What wonders they’ve perform’d, what mighty battles won.

Can I, whilst they, victorious onward roll,

In nervous thundr’ing diction, trace the whole?

Who can the wond’rous worthy task perform?

Speak as they fight, or write as when they storm?

The task, the toils of Hercules exceeds;

Phæton as well might drive Apollo’s steeds:

Now for old Homer’s flight, and Homer’s fire;

Come Homer’s soul, and all my soul inspire:

Thy strong conceptions with my fancy blend,

Like thine, the task is war! like thine, the theme must end! †

   * Le Soleil Royal. The ship Mons. Conflans commanded. In English, the Royal Sun.

   † As Homer’s theme ended with the victory of the Grecians

[page 15]

Oh! might a portion now, of Dryden’s † skill!

Or Mason’s † fire, my glowing bosom fill:

Might Pope’s † great genius, in my soul preside,

Direct, suggest, and my invention guide:

The slacken’d reins, to fancy’s flight I’d give,

Each hero shou’d in future ages live:

But fate denies, what reason bids me ask;

Youth immatur’d, must grapple with the task:

A pond’rous task, but ’tis a glorious aim;

My fancy’s fir’d, amid the warlike theme.

And as the clangor of the trumpet’s sound,

Makes the fierce horse with fury paw the ground;

A gen’rous ardour trills along his veins;

To glory’s goal, he scours the sanguin’d plains:

So I, well pleas’d, fair honour’s call obey,

Sing Britain’s triumph, and the Gaul’s dismay.

Clio! descend, and guide me thro’ the whole;

And with cœlestial ardour fill my soul:

In nervous diction, teach my tongue to sing,

Great GEORGE, victorious, Britain’s much lov’d King.

over the Trojans, and their allies; mine ends with Britain’s conquest over France and Spain.

   † † † Dryden translated Virgil’s Encids: Mason wrote the Traged of Caractacus, king of Britain: And Pope translated Homer’s Iliad: Works, all well known, among the literature part of manking, and lovers of reading, and books.

[page 16]

To tell how EDWARD, BRUNSWICK’S Grandson, fought;

And Howe, and Marlb’rough, Britain’s vengeance brought

Round Maloe’s walls, mute guns, and troops in fright;

Whilst fleets ascend in air, ’midst blazing night!

Set Wolfe, Hawke, Amherst, Boscawen, to view;

Speak all their worth, and give them honour due:

With Schomberg, Rogers, Johnson, greatly fam’d,

Let Monckton, Townshend, Keppel, Clive, be nam’d.

To Indian climes conduct my fancy war:

To trace the sons of Scotland through the war:

Display the prowess of that martial race;

And in true light, their matchless valour place.

Bring ev’ry British hero on the stage,

By patriot ardour fir’d, and manly rage,

Who dar’d in Britain’s cause, against the foe t’engage.

Rouze me to trace ’em thro’ each fierce alarm!

With martial sentiments, my bosom warm;

Teach me to sing, their dread voracious frowns,

In flaming death! thro’ Gallic troops, and towns!

Oh! give me ardour! such as well may fit

The fortitude, and eloquence of Pitt;

His name, a place, most worthily may claim,

To aggrandize the pleasing warlike theme;

That Pitt! which Gallic lines cou’d never found!

Greatly capacious! wond’rously profound!

Where Lewis, and his politics are drown’d! [page 17]

There all his treasures of the torrid Zone,

With northern furs, forts, settlements are thrown:

There junk Quebec, to grand destruction down.

A vast exulting glow my bosom warms!

For Heav’n, propitious prospers Britain’s arms!

And mighty Fred’rick’s name, the quadrate league alarms!

GEORGE fills the throne, and governs well these lands;

Next him, with manly soul, great Pitt commands;

And on a Legge well fix’d, most firmly stands!

So many, giant-like, of late have rose,

And dealt with patriot zeal, ’gainst Gaul their blows;

Have acted like the hand of mighty fate,

To prop the throne, and save the British state!

As stands the man, o’erwhelm’d with dazzling light,

An occulist hath just restor’d to fight:

Around he looks, absorb’d in dear amaze!

And new born bliss, ‘midst bright Apollo’s blaze!
With glorious transports! wonders he surveys,

His Maker’s hand, Omnipotent, displays!

So view I Royal GEORGE, with conquest crown’d,

Whilst throngs of heroes brave! his throne surround,

In pleasing joy! and grand refelction drown’d!

Homer, his great Achilles must extoll’d,

And in the lift of fame, a few inroll’d; [page 18]

Express’d a grand luxuriance of thought,

When he each hero into action brought;

And with heroic skill, the great narration wrought.

But had he liv’d in GEORGE the second’s days,

A deathless monument of fame to raise

For ev’ry hero, we in Britain find,

The task would grow too great for Homer’s mind.

All, cannot with distinguish’d merit shine,

Cohorts must throng, in one great pleasing line;

And fleets, in compass of a single page,

Attack, repel, and quell opposing rage.


[page 19]


BOOK the First.


THE Rout at Dettingen; the first inspiration to this Poem. The beginning of the present war; and our victories touched on, by way of anticipation. An invocation of Urania, and Clio. An exultation, on reflecting on the happy possession of his Majesty King GEORGE; and the Prussian KING, as our ally: with the Patriots, Pitt, and Legge: with a pleasing reflection on GEORGE the Third, crowned with conquests, and surrounded by terrene and naval heroes. The French attacking Portmahon, and their threatening to invade England; with the terror, and confusion, which that caused. Pitt, rising like the Sun, from behind a thunder-cloud, to make Britannia smile, and putting his war-like schemes into execution. Great Britain rousing to war; (after the loss of Minorca,) like a lion rousing from his den, who sees his cub sprawling among the dogs. The descents of Guadaloup, Goree, and Senegal, Granada, St. Martin’s, Marigalante, [unnumbered page] Surat, Chandernagore, and Calcutta. The atchievements of Britannia’s worthies on the Continent. The descent at St. Maloes. The storm our navy suffered in off Louisbourg; and their return to England. The armament the following spring, under Admiral Boscawen, and Admiral Hardy; and General Amherst, and General Wolfe. The landing at Louisbourg described, with the death of Captain Bailly, and Lieutenant Cuthbert: The martial rage of the Scotchmen, who with Scott, Gorham, the Rangers, and England’s troops, rushed on to the battle. The rout, and confusion, before the Generals Amherst, and Wolfe. The batteries raised, with the bombardment, and cannonading; General Amherst playing on the town; and grand fort. General Wolfe’s taking possession of the light-house battery; and his battery against the island-fort. The French man of war burnt in the harbour; and the Bienfaicant rowed off by our tars. The united attack of General Amherst, and General Wolfe, against the town, and grand fort. The havock of their war; and surrender of the fort. Reflections on Ulysses, and Diomedes, going into the Grecian camp, and the resemblance the Generals Amherst, and Wolfe, bore to them, in their expedition. [page 22]





[illustration: W]HEN first, th’unwelcome news to us was known,

The Gallic thunder fell on Portmahon;

As mourns the mother (fond,) her offspring’s cries,

Who craves her aid, when threat’ning dangers rise;

So mourn’d each Briton true, Minorca’s fate,

Approaching near, and imminently great!

At length, the thund’ring news reach’d Britain’s coast,

Our squadron fled, and Portmahon was lost!

(What cou’d be done, the gallant Blakeney did;

His worthy few, made many * thousands bleed.

   * By all the accounts we could ever get, the French had, from first to last, about 30,000 troops against fort St. Philip,

[page 23]

To him, the foe, all warlike honours gave;

His worth rever’d; confess’d him greatly brave.)

Reports came thick, the French prepar’d to land,

And ravage England, with a mighty hand;

Their threat’ning troops, to fancy strong appear’d,

And sighs, and pray’rs, and sad portents were heard.

Gallia, with conquest flush’d; pronounc’d our doom,

And England seem’d involv’d in horrid gloom.

(As children, with a bugbear tale are scar’d,

So we of fleets and troops affrighted heard.)

E’en like the fun, forth bursting from a cloud,

(With light’ning stor’d, and stormy tempest loud;)

To glad the traveller in lonely ways,

And shed around, his sweet all-cheering blaze:

No Pitt arose, to glad our mournful Isle,

Dispell’d the gloom, and made Britannia smile!

The scandal of the nation soon was raz’d,

Th’insulting foe retir’d, transfix’d! amaz’d!

Before his eloquence, fraud fled dismay’d,

(Pale envy, on its ranc’rous vitals prey’d;)

He plann’d the war; and practis’d martial schemes,

And waken’d Lewis from his conq’ring dreams!

   NOW, like a lion, rousing from his den,

(To meet the dogs, and animating men;)

and General Blakeney had not three compleat regiments; yet so gallantly those comparatively few defended the place, that before they gave up, about a half of them were kill’d, and near 10,000 of the enemy.

[page 24]

Who sees his cub lie sprawling on the ground,

Whom hungry dogs most greedily surround:

He shakes his mane, and from his wrathful eyes,

Indignant fire, in dreadful glances flies:

Horrid he roars! and swings his mighty tail,

For grand revenge, prepares both tooth and nail:

Foaming, he views the lacerated spoil;

(Hunters, and dogs, and horses back recoil!)

So England rous’d, on fell revenge inclin’d,

’Gainst Maloes, Cherburg, Louisburg, design’d;

One fierce design, each Briton seems to fire;

All rush to arms, and burn with wrathful ire.

Now, o’er the main, our fleets assert our right,

Round Britain’s standard, with a stern delight,

Troops throng on troops, and with the rumor’d fight!

With free-born rage all animated stand,

At danger spurn, and dare the foe to land:

Wives, children, laws, and liberty’s sweet charms,

With threefold ardour ev’ry bosom warms!

   NOW Watson, Sayer, Barrington arose,

Roar’d in the storm, and crush’d Britannia’s foes!

Clive, Coote, Marsh, Mason, Draper, Keppel, Moore,

To Africa, and India, veng’ance bore;

And with resistless fury forc’d their way,

Made nations bend, and own great GEORGE’S sway:

Reliev’d Madrass, repair’d its batter’d wall;

Triumphant seiz’d on swarthy Senegal: [page 25]

Their cannon shook devoted hostile ground,

And scatter’d deaths, ’mongst faithless tribes around:

They stood transfix’d! their vital blood ran cold!

Whilst England’s storms, o’er towns and ramparts roll’d!

Houses and walls from their foundations stray’d,

And pil’d in smoaking waste, o’erwhelm’d the blasted dead!

Granada now, St. Martin’s, Guadaloup,

Beneath Britannia’s might submissive stoop!

Marigalante, Surat, Chandernagore,

Calcutta trembled whilst Clive’s thunders roar!

* Clive! by whose might Chandernagore * was raz’d.

Before whom twice the Nabob fled * amaz’d!

Clive! whose impetuous war bore down his foes!

Clive! who made Nabobs *! Nabobs * cou’d depose!

This adds a lustre to great BRUNSWICK’S throne,

His gen’ral † does, what conq’ring Rome has done.

Victorious oft, for battle greatly fam’d;

By Africans, The never * to be conquer’d nam’d.

   * * * * * Calcutta and Chandernagore were taken by General Clive, the Nabob was twice defeated by him, and Jaffier Ali Cawn made Nabob. The people in that country gave him a name, which in their language signifies, The never to be conquer’d.

   † The Romans would often depose one King, and raise another; General Clive deposed the Nabob, and raised another to that dignity.

[page 26]

Tho’ with more ships, by thousands better mann’d,

(Enough to make pale fear itself to stand;)

Thrice fled D’Ache, when dreaded Pocock came,

’Midst English tars, and sheets of British flame!

   NOW English worthies on the Continent,

Made Indian French, and Savages repent

Their cruel, black, infernal scalping rage,

Not daring with our free-born troops t’engage;

They fought in fear, or fled in foul disgrace,

As tim’rous deers, when angry lions chace.

   NOT satiate yet, on ampler veng’ance bent,

Against Cape Breton, England’s fleet is sent.

Behold they come! off Louisbourg appear;

Their coming strikes with an amazing fear!

Pale tremor fills French forts, and troops, and towns,

And scalping crews, for angry Britain frowns:

And like Briareus *, with an hundred hands,

She seiz’d on African and Indian lands,

And pour’d around her brave victorious bands.

Onward they roll’d, like an o’erwhelming flood;

And delug’d Gallic lands, in Gallic blood.

   THE French invasion now was fear’d no more,

Our troops prepar’d to tread the Gallic shore:

   * A hundred-handed giant, as the poets say.

[page 27]

On ev’ry side, their angry blows they dealt,

St. Maloes first, their vengeful fury felt.

(The French flat-bottom’d policy repaid,

Whilst Maloe’s forts were mightily dismay’d.)

There before Britain’s troops, by Marlb’rough led,

On friendly ground, the tim’rous Frenchmen fled;

Whilst under covert of St. Maloes wall,

Whole fleets of ships an easy conquest fall:

Six scores their number (needless are their names)

A prey to Britain’s dread voracious flames!

As from on high, the tow’ring eagles ken

The serpent’s brood, before the female’s den;

Downward they souse, and seize the scaly prey,

In griping talons safely born away.

(They mock the mother’s hiss with gen’rous scorn,

Aloft in air the venom’d brood is born;)

So Howe and Marbl’rough jointly sped their way,

And boldly seiz’d upon the Gallic prey:

Greatly resolv’d, the neighb’ring forts they dare,

Whilst hostile wealth evaporates in air.

AS daring Louisbourg, our navy lay,

Stretch’d off and on upon the swelling sea;

It pleas’d the hand of Heav’n to interpose,

And send on Britain’s fleet its stormy woes;

’Cause Louisbourg as yet not ripe for fate,

Must be preserved to a longer date.

A heavy gale at first the fleet divides,

The rolling waves dash’d hard against their sides; [page 28]

A tempest next, with fury uncontroul’d,

High o’er their decks, the surging billows roll’d.

The foaming Ocean madly round ’em raged:

A hurricane the British fleet engag’d.

Each ship was now in danger to be lost,

The storm urg’d hard upon th’ unfriendly coast;

Still grew more strong, and louder than before,

And forc’d our fleet upon the Gallic shore.

No longer now they cou’d the fury brave

Of wind, and ev’ry pond’rous dashing wave;

Towards the shore in grand confusion ride;

Born on the back of the tumultuous tide.

As vapours vanish in the spacious air,

The blust’ring winds the spreading canvas tear;

Halliards and stays give way like burning tow;

Yards, topmasts, blocks, a pond’rous burden grow;

With crashing noise come tumbling down below!

Wave after wave rolls o’er the quarter-deck,

Sweeps fore and aft, and threats each ship with wreck:

Amid the waves they plunge, again they rise

On wat’ry hills, and seem to greet the skies.

High o’er the windward side proud billows come,

To leeward roll in froth and briny foam.

Each tumbling ship now sallies as she glides,

And in the Ocean dips her lofty sides.

Lan-yards and shrouds, and chain-plates go to wreck,

The lower masts are shorten’d to the deck:

And from their breechings heavy cannon break. [page 29]

To stop the guns, hammocks are quickly flung,

And now the heavy unstay’d boltsprit’s sprung.

A damp now chills the boldest seaman’s soul,

As they drive on, and in the tempest roll.

The danger now seems greater than before,

For just a-lee behold the Gallic shore!

Captains, lieutenants, boatswains, vainly rave,

In vain the hardy tars the tempest brave;

The ships impell’d by each impetuous wave!

Amid the tempest, human speech is drown’d,

From stern to stern nought but confusion’s found!

Whilst some (perhaps) are floating on the sea,

Wash’d from the decks, or blown with yards away.

No other hope but anchor’s now is found,

Yet oft they furrow up the faithless ground.

The Tilbury no longer can sustain

The rough assault of the tempestuous main:

Her cables parts, (whilst angry tempests roar)

And like a horse unbridled leaps on shore;

There soon became a dismal shatter’d wreck,

(The massy beams and solid timbers break;

Bolts, trunnels, staples, knees, and all give way,

The floating ruin spreads the surging sea:)

High o’er the ship the foaming tempest laves,

And British seamen sing in wat’ry graves:

Powder design’d in thunder to displode,

Sinks down oppress’d with an aquatic load,

Is now expended on the Gallic shore,

In other noise than when loud cannons roar.

Indulgent Heav’n at length the storm appeas’d,

Of all their fears the scatter’d squadron eas’d: [page 30]

The foaming billows wear a smoother form,

GOD nodded peace: and silent grew the storm.

Half-wreck’d! dismasted! in a dismal fort:

Our fleet soon anchor’d in a friendly port;

From whence to England back again they plough,

And Britons mourn’d the stormy overthrow.

STILL, like a loaded thunder-cloud, from far,

Great Britain growl’d revenge, and flaming war.

England still ruminates to Gallia’s dread,

On veng’ance stern, and ruin widely spread.

Minorca’s fall, for great reprisals cries;

She views Cape Breton with revengeful eyes.

At length the wish’d for spring once more appear’d,

And Boscawen the British banners rear’d:

The glad’ning news with pleasure fill’d each mind,

Great GEORGE a second northern war design’d.

English, Hiberninas, Scotchmen now are shipt,

With all accoutrements for war equipt;

With brazen mortars whence the bombs are flung,

And congregating fleets together throng:

The pond’rous batt’ring guns are put on board,

With barr’d and round shot, ships are largely stor’d:

With bombs, tents, horses, (fit to draw the car,)

And all the apparatus of the war;

With loads of sooty grain, to fling the bombs from far. [page 31]

Our fleets refitted, o’er the billows ride;

(The dread of France, and Britain’s naval pride.)

Widely they spread upon the swelling sea,

And thro, the western Ocean speed their way;

The dreadful pomp of threat’ning war display.

Heav’n smil’d th’ assent, and back they ne’er return’d,

Till Loiusbourg in flaming ruin mourn’d.

Behold they come, with friendly squadrons meet,

Retard, and intercept the Gallic fleet:

Boldly they stretch along Cape Breton’s coast,

Not long, e’er Lewis mourns this island lost.

A council’s call’d, where measures they propose,

Where best to land, where most annoy the foes;

Brave Boscawen, (like Ithaca’s * sage king,)

The hinge on whom the grand design must swing,

Wisely foresaw, (and ponder’d in his mind,)

Unless our troops unanimous combin’d,

The whole design might soon abortive prove,

As that, where Moab †, Seir †, and Ammon † strove,

First discontent, next martial anger burn’d,

Each drew his sword, against his ally turn’d;

England too oft, the like mishap hath mourn’d!

   * Ulysses, king of Ithaca, was a Grecian king and warrior, at the seige of Troy, and much renown’d for his sagacity and skill in carrying on a warlike scheme.

   † † † It is said in Scripture, when the children of Moab, Ammon, and Mount Seir came against Israel, a dissention arose among the troops, they drew their swords, attack’d and destroy’d one another; and by that means defeated their own designs against the coasts of Israel.

[page 32]

But Boscawen of large and gen’rous soul;

So well projected and contriv’d the whole,

That English, Scotchmen, and Hibernians bear

Of fame and danger both an equal share.

Now all prepar’d, (the landing-place in view,)

For several days, a blust’ring tempest blew:

Which for that space, the bold attempt retards;

But Providence the British frigates guards;

For tho’ they rode full near Cape Breton’s shore,

And Gallic cannon, with incessant roar,

And tho’ brisk fire from mortars was maintain’d,

Small was the loss, or damage they sustain’d.

   AGAIN, the wind and waters ceas’d to rage,

And now the fleet and troops prepare t’engage;

Now line of battle ships approach the shore,

And nearer still the lesser frigates roar:

Against th’ opposing foes, a dreadful bar;

Whilst transports quick refund the living war.

Tumult! and noise! and slaughter! soon ensu’d,

And men and boats are dash’d upon the flood.

Cannons incessant roar and bullets rend,

In flaming show’rs the countless bombs descend:

And sulph’rous flames and clouds of smoke arise,

Whilst from French guns the leaden bullet flies.

Mean while, our frigates, cannons, mortars ply;

And bombs and balls in deadly vollies fly.

Amherst and Wolfe proceed serene, sedate,

As if themselves had turn’d the hinge of fate:

By them inspir’d, our infantry soon grew

With ardor warm, and to the battle flew: [page 33]

Bore all before ‘em, like the swelling main,

The French could not their mighty charge sustain,

Expanding sheets of vapours cloud the day,

Whilst boats to land (with speed) pursue their way.

See! see! the crimson blood, brave Bailly * stains;

The (glancing) leaden death hath pierc’d his brains!

The manly Cuthbert’s * merit well is known,

Who fondly cry’d, my Bailly dear! you’re gone!

Oh sad! there stopp’d his amicable breath;

Brave Cuthbert’s * merit well is known,

Who fondly cry’d, my Bailly dear! you're gone!

Oh fad! there stopp’d his amicable breath;

Brave Cuthbert felt the dashing iron death:

The fatal bullet through his body came,

And drown’d in blood the glowing friendly flame.

From Scottish warriors tears of anger flow;

Their bosoms glow’d with pond’rous warlike woe;

Both oft were seen intrepidly t’engage;

Oft fac’d grim death when cloath’d in Gallic rage.

Ill fated warriors! thus to fall before

Your luckless boat had reach’d the destin’d shore.

Oh! that you’d liv’d to tread on hostile ground,

And help’d to deal the glitt’ring veng’ance round.

Small cause shall Frenchmen have your deaths to boast,

When once your troops shall firmly tread their coast;

With angry courage fir’d and gen’rous wrath,

They’ll glut the grave, and satiate greedy death

   AS when the thunder of the mighty JOVE,

Breaks from th’Olympian battlements above;

   * * Capt. Bailly, and Lieut. Cuthbert, belong’d to one company of Highlanders; and were kill’d going on shore, one by a musket shot, and the other by a cannon ball.

[page 34]

The loud artill’ry in a dreadful form,

Comes rolling on amid a pitchy storm;

The direful fragors of th’æthereal store,

Rattle aloft with dread terrific roar:

Light’nings and bolts before the growl proceed,

To strike the destin’d mark with fury speed.

So under covert of sulphurous smoke,

Which from the British fleet in thunder broke;

First slew the bolts, t’intimidate the Gauls,

To dash the mud banks, or cemented walls.

Next, Scotia’s troops to battle sally’d forth,

And Louisbourg confess’d their northern worth;

From clouds of smoke they burst, like light’ning’s blaze,

And struck th’opposing foe with grand amaze!

Few deaths they sent, of iron, or of lead,

O’er hostile troops and lines they boldly tread;

And as they march they death and danger spread.

To closest fight, their cohort quickly runs,

And scorns to battle with the distant guns:

They strike the blow, which stops th’opponent’s breath,

And load the foe with storms of steely death!

See! where the sons of Scotland force their way,

With Rangers join’d, in dreadful disarray!

Sustain’d by infantry, array’d in order strong;

Amherst and Wolfe, who urg’d the landing war along:

They fire, advance, and charge, and to the battle throng. [page 35]

And comet-like their broad bright swords appear,

Death’s in their front, and terror in their rear!

Fierce to the fight, intrepid Gorham flies:

And all the terrors of the war defies.

Scott, and the Rangers, and the Scotchmen glow,

And speed towards the strong entrenched foe.

As fierce Achilles, (thunderbolt of war,)

Broke Trojan ranks in his resistless carr;

On rush’d his myrmidons with faulchions rear’d,

Of troops thick throng’d, the ground was quickly clear’d.

So before Wolfe and Amherst Frenchmen fled,

(Their troops advancing struck a mortal dread;

The tim’rous living stumbled o’er the dead!)

From flank to flank the glitt’ring danger shines,

And war’s dread havoc marks their spreading lines:

They wave their swords, anticipate the fight,

And strong reblaze the glitt’ring rays of light:

From man to man they catch the gen’rous glow;

A stupid languor seizes on the foe:

They stand amaz’d! the burnish’d ruin dread!

Thro’ Gallia’s troops, a panic terror spread;

As when amid the gloom of darkest night,

The transient glances of Tartarean light,

Attack a lonely person with surprize!

And fancy’d fiends in millions round him rise;

Mutely transfix’d, all resolution sleeps,

A chilly damp thro’ all his vitals creeps;

A sweating tremor shakes him to the ground,

Amid the tumult all reflection’s drown’d. [page 36]

So as their lines the Caledonians cross’d,

The Frenchmen quick resisting ardour lost:

No longer felt the great heroic glow,

Such as the three united nations know:

Beneath their pond’rous blows the French troops reel,

Depress’d and drown’d ’midst show’rs of northern steel.

Our troops (resolv’d,) no dangers cou’d controul,

Tho’ high on shore, the foaming billows roll:

Tho’ thousands there (entrench’d,) the beach command;

And guns and mortars throng’d the guarded strand:

Headed by Wolfe, they plunge into the flood,

And wade to Louisbourg thro’ Gallic blood.

   WITH circumspection now the ground’s survey’d,

From whence artilleries may best be play’d;

And heavy batt’ring guns are dragg’d around,

Advancing engineers work under ground:

Large and small batt’ries (cover’d from the fight)

Are plann’d and form’d ’midst silence of the night.

The platforms next (with utmost speed) they form,

From whence to roll Great Britain’s thunder storm;

Incentive match and bombs are thither brought,

And magazines with dormant thunder fraught;

Till wak’d by fire, then dashing bolts are thrown,

To raze the walls of thick cemented stone: [page 37]

Mortars are plac’d, from whose infernal wombs,

Ejecting powder sends the murd’ring bombs.

   NOW ev’ry thing against the hour prepar’d,

The masks are dropp’d, the British greeting’s heard:

Towards the ramparts, infantries advance,

Defiance thunders from the forts of France:

The loud explosion rages more and more,

Deep throated guns, and brazen mortars roar:

In undulating air long hangs the sound,

And flame and sulph’rous vapours spread around.

As from Mount Etna and Vesuvius rise,

Thunders and flames, whilst vapours cloud the skies:

Like these vulcacnoes, in convulsive rage,

The British troops, and Gallic forts engage.

Advancing corps of infantries gain ground,

The cohorn, fascine batt’ries play around.

Wolfe well deserves his dread voracious name,

Spreads ruin round, or wide devouring flame!

Around the town he roams, conceal’d in night;

Intent on Gallic prey maintains the fight:

The silenc’d light-house batt’ry owns his might.

Soon grows more dreadful than it was before;

Inspir’d by Wolfe and British troops to roar.

Whilst Amherst on the town and grand fort plays:

(On Gallic troops desponding terrors seize!)

Wolfe on their island fort his battle pours;

Incessant sends his thund’ring iron show’rs;

Dash’d by his balls, obstructing ramparts drop;

They even plough the deep foundations up. [page 38]

Before his battle adverse strength is born:

Riv’d muzzles are from batter’d breeches torn.

The mould’ring breaches wide and wider spread;

(Rammers and sponges lie among the dead:)

Descending bombs most dreadfully displode;

With ruin’d walls the shiver’d platforms load:

The fort’s descendants now for shelter fly,

For undistinguish’d, lo! the ramparts lie:

Subverted guns, with wheels aloft display’d,

Among the piles of rubbish too are laid;

And dreadful devastation widely spread!

Disploded shells and shot together throng;

And mortars from their brazen bases flung.

And prospect odd, of iron, brass, and lead:

Of stones, and mangled bodies of the dead.

Fathers to future sons shall this report;

So fought brave Wolfe; so look’d their island fort.

   BY Hardy and brave Boscawen inspir’d:

See! British tars to deeds of wonder fir’d!

They leave their lofty ships upon the sea;

Destin’d for Louisbourg they speed their way,

As hungry wolves will nightly roam for prey.

Balfour, * and Laforney, two fearless tars,

With mighty souls (well form’d for naval wars;)

Thro’ nameless terrors, unconcern’d they row,

And in tremendous shade attack the foe.

   * The Captains Laforney and Balfour commanded the boats which burnt one man of war, and tow’d the other out of the harbour of Louisbourg, in spight of all the fire from the batteries.

[page 39]

No whit dismay’d, thro’ dangers on they came:

’Midst gloom, and shot, and shells and sulph’rous flame:

Towards the Gallic thunder storms they bend;

With [illegible word] alert their lofty sides of end;

And from their engineers, the dashing bolts they rend.

Descending Frenchmen soon their quarters leave,

The cutlass, and the naval pole-ax cleave;

Not one survives, to wail the hundreds dead;

But carnage great, and total death is spread.

Prudent in British flame, most fiercely glow’d:

But Bienfaicant they from the harbour tow’d.

So hungry wolves attack the am’rous sheep,

In lonely cots, and o’er the fences leap;

Eager they seize upon the fleecy prey;

Tear! kill! and drag, whate’er they please away.

   AGAINST their fleet, Wolfe ardent balls ejects,

Or drops his bombs upon their open decks:

They sink or vanish in a sulph’rous blaze;

And with new horrors Louisbourg amaze.

As from the bellowing engine of the skies,

The thunderbolt and riving light’ning flies;

So Wolfe and Amherst emulous advance,

To waste the troops, and raze the forts of France!

Amherst sends various deaths among the foe;

The troops and tars with gen’rous courage glow;

The town and grand fort little respite know.

See! Wolfe inspires and spurs his martial pow’rs;

With roar destructive Louisbourg devours. [page 40]

Wolfe prowls by night, with caution to survey,

How batt’ring guns and British mortars play;

Oft looks on Louisbourg with threat’ning frown,

And show’rs his shot and shells upon the town.

Amherst and Wolfe full forty days assail

The town and forts, resolved to prevail.

As oft are known the meteors of the sky,

With burning tails descending from on high,

To dash thro’ houses, with amazing force,

And rive and kill in their impetuous course:

As they rend knotty oaks, and tear the ground,

And spread a desolating ruin round;

Their tow’ring bombs descending from on high,

With dread commission to the town they fly;

The crashing roofs give way; they dash to ground;

Displode, and scatter dust and deaths around;

Spread devastation wide, through all the place;

And lofty domes to deep foundations raze:

So flaming Louisbourg their fury feels;

From English bombs proceed those various ills.

Men, women, children welter in their gore;

Shrieks, groans and flames, mortars and cannons roar,

With dread confusion fill the Gallic shore!

Drucour * no longer can the fight maintain;

Tho’ greatly brave; yet here his brav’ry’s vain;

Tho’ wond’rous strong the place, it cannot shield

His troops from death; behold the ramparts yield;

For Wolfe and Amherst, with a thund’ring frown,

Shake the grand fort, and fire the neighb’ring town.

   * Governor of Louisbourg, and a brave man.

[page 41]

Aloft, great GEORGE’S banners where uprear’d;

Brave Boscawen into the harbour steer’d.

The dreadful scene is chang’d, they hear no more,

The dying groans, nor guns, nor mortars roar,

And slaughther ceases on the Gallic shore.

The British cannon roar’d in harmless fort,

When Louisbourg became a friendly port.

Heav’n, hear my pray’r; preserve it as our own;

Till Gallic foes our faithful friends are grown.

WHEN Nestor (sagely) on the Phrygian shore,

Advis’d some * spies shou’d Hector’s camp explore,

The sage Ulysses, and fierce Diomed,

Thro’ Trojan guards and gloom and dangers sped.

   * Upon the refusal of Achilles to return to the army, (which he had deserted, on account of the quarrel between him and Agamemnon, who with his troops had laid siege to Troy; but was now by the irresistible prowess of Hector beaten back to his ships and entrenchments;) a council of war was call’d by night, for the public safety, and Nestor questions, if none will go to hazard his life to save his country, strive to seize some straggling foe, or penetrate so far into their camp, as to hear the counsels and designs, mentions the glory of the deed, and what gifts! and praises! his grateful country would bestow! Diomed undertook this hazardous enterprize! and made choice of Ulysses for his companion. In their passage, they surprize Dolon (whom Hector had sent on a like design, to the camp of the Grecians.) From him they are inform’d of the situation

[page 42]

Amherst and Wolfe like these were wisely chose,

For foreign war against perfidious foes.

Wisdom and valour with united force;

Conduct the Grecians thro’ their nightly course.

If skill mature, the great design shou’d ask;

Who fitter than Ulysses for the task?

Shou’d giant danger stride across the path,

Tydides *fierce! was full of martial wrath;

With mighty strength his pond’rous spear he drove,

And scarce † retreated from the thund’ring JOVE!

Amherst in council was rely’d upon:

Wolfe had the spirit of Tydeus’s son.

of the Trojan and auxiliary forces, and particularly of Rhesus and the Thracians, who were lately arriv’d. They pass on with success; kill Rhesus, with several of his officers, and seize the famous horses of that prince, with which they return in triumph to the camp. The whole story may be read in the tenth book of Homer’s Iliad.

   * Tydides, is Diomed, being the son of Tydeus; and is sometimes in the Iliad call’d Diomed Tydides, Tydeus’s son.

   † In the eight book of Homer’s Iliad, we have Diomed advancing fiercely to Nestor’s rescue, and to battle with Hector, who came thund’ring through the war, and was driving full upon the Pylian sage. Homer makes Jupiter oppose Diomed in these words:

          But JOVE with awful sound;

          Roll’d the big thunder o’er the vast profound.

          Full in Tydides’ face, the light’ning flew;

          The ground before him flam’d with sulphur blue.

After which, he describes him retreating with great reluctance, from Hector’s overwhelming battle; tho’ deserted by the Grecians, advis’d to flee by Nestor, and oppos’d by a storm of thunder and lightning from Jupiter himself.

[page 43]

Both oft had charg’d amidst the sulph’rous roar

Of deep mouth’d guns, and thousands in their gore:

Both oft well try’d, to fierce encounters drew,

Where iron deaths, and leaden dangers flew.

BRUNSWICK and Pitt on these securely lean’d,

England in hope by these was well sustain’d.

So Memnon, Nestor, fix’d their hopes upon

Bold Diomed, and sage Laertes’ * son.

Thro’ Dardan ranks victorious both had strode;

Their Grecian spears drank deep of hostile blood.

Amidst the fiercest shocks both oft were try’d;

Whilst brains and gore their biting faulchions dy’d.

With warlike spoils their labours oft were crown’d;

For wisdom great and valour much renown’d.

They seiz’d on Dolon †, (struck with wild dismay:)

First flew the spy, then sped where Rhesus lay:

Doom’d with his guards no more to see the light;

Their eyes seal’d up in everlasting night.

Back to their friends both heroes safe return’d:

The Trojan camp their nightly visit mourn’d.

Both plann’d, both fought, as dread occasion needs;

And both their souls were form’d for mighty deeds.

Amherst and Wolfe like these in war renown’d;

Return’d from Louibourg with conquest crown’d.

   * Ulysses, who is in the Iliad, sometimes call’d sage Ulysses, wise Ulysses, Laertes’s son, and sometimes Ithacus.

   † The spy sent by Hector, to explore the Grecian camp. Vid. tenth book of Homer’s Iliad.

[page 44]

The toils of war each disposition suits;

And either plans, and either executes.

The Grecian heroes their nocturnal course

Held jointly on with great united force.

Whilst Diomed the guards of Rhesus slew,

Wise Ithacus * the bodies backward drew.

(Fearing the mettled steeds might scorn the rein,

Unus’d to carnage, and the sanguin’d plain.)

Whilst Amherst thunder’d on the frighten’d town;

Wolfe’s battle shook their island batt’ry down.

Wise were the Grecian chiefs, nor wont to fear:

Sagacious, brave, the British heroes were.

End of BOOK I.


   * Ulysses, who is often call’d Ithacus from his country, he being king of Ithaca.

[page 45]



THE descent at Cherburg. Blowing up the bason. Goree attack’d by the honourable Augustus Keppel, and surrender’d to him. Admiral Rodney’s bombardment of Havre de Grace, and burning the flat-bottom boats; with an address to Great Britain. Boscawen’s sailing, and chasing De Clue. The engagement. De Clue, and part of his squadron driven on shore! with the pannic they were in, on seeing the Spanish fleet, and supposing them to be an English fleet. [page 46]






[illustration: G]REAT GEORGE’S GRANDSON lands on Gallia’s shore:

His batt’ring guns and royal mortars roar:

Close ply’d, well aim’d, are bombs and dashing balls;

Before the princely hero Cherburg falls:

Low as the dust, strong ramparts down are thrown:

Aloft in air the costly bason’s blown.

Here Howe and Bligh a lasting honour gain’d,

Whilst they to war the Royal Hero train’d.

How smil’d our good old KING! how trembled Gaul!

When English cannons raz’d proud Cherburg’s wall! [unnumbered page]

Paternal doubts, and ardent wishes rise,

Whilst tears of transport sparkled in his eyes.

Grandly exulting more than KING he stood!

Whilst EDWARD fought, confessing BRUNSWICK’S blood!

So stands the royal Hunter, to survey

His cubs, who grapple with a stubborn prey:

He swings his tail, exulting at the sight;

And trembling longs to mingle in the fight:

With love paternal fir’d, and ardent rage,

He sees the lions, as the cubs engage:

At length, the vaquish’d foe is drown’d in blood,

He shakes his mane, and roars applauses loud.

AS if Vesuvius uprooted torn;

Against Goree, to battle had been born;

Brave Keppel in the Torbay fierce assail’d

Fort after fort, and mightily prevail’d.

Whilst fate in triumph, in each broadside rode,

Keppel for warlike fame and vict’ry glow’d:

Shot after shot, bomb after bomb he sent;

Silenc’d their guns, platforms and ramparts rent:

The Gauls grew cool, as warm the Britons grew;

And greatly emulous to battle flew;

They ceas’d their fire, and pull’d their ensign down,

And gave our troops possession of the town.

   SEE! Rodney next, th’invasive protest marr:

Subvert French schemes, and their flat-bottom’d war: [page 48]

Britannia’s Fleet, at Havre, threats the shore;

And brazen mortars, in bombardment roar:

From iron vehicles, the veng’ance broke;

And all their plans evaporate in smoke!

   BRITAIN! let loose thy rough, undaunted tars;

And smile applause, on all thy Sons of Mars;

Let no cabals, they Patriots alms frustrate,

Nor civil discontent disturb thy state;

Then under Providence, we may expect

A lasting Peace, the pride of Gallia check’d.

NOW Hawke, and Boscawen, with terrors ride

Across the main, to curb the Gallic pride:

And in Lagos, and Quiberon’s fam’d bay,

Our gallant tars, their naval worth display;

Attack, and strike the fleets of Gaul, with dread dismay.

Boscawen, first, engages with the foe:

And gains new laurels from his overthrow.

’Frighted before, at Spaniards * in the bay;

They tack’d, confus’d, and stood again at sea.

Chimeras fill’d their minds, black fear prevails;

And ev’ry cloud, was England’s swelling sails:

So tim’rous souls, (dreading nocturnal shade,)

A similar mistake have often made.

   * The French fleet, seeing the Spanish fleet in the bay, (as they were going into the harbour,) tack’d and stood, off again at sea: by which means, they met the (so much dreaded) English fleet, which they so vainly endeavour’d to shun.

[page 49]

A sudden glance, across a glitt’ring pool,

’Twas light’ning flash’d, and shou’d some growling bull,

Bellow terrific, thro’ th’ adjacent plains,

Some fiend infernal roar’d, and shook his chains:

From non-existing ills, they strive t’escape,

Stumble on nought! and into ditches leap!

So Frenchmen now, substantial dangers meet,

Shunning the shadow of an English fleet.

Our fleet, no sooner to their view appear’d,

False signals made, and BRITAIN’S ensigns rear’d,

Thro’ all their ships, the wonted fears prevail;

They dropp’d their coursers, and set ev’ry sail.

Now glow’d our tars, and thro, the foaming sea,

They chac’d De Clue, and long’d to seize their prey.

As thro’ the concave of the gloomy sky,

(On wings of winds upborn, on which they fly;)

Black clouds, chace clouds, in dread tremendous form;

Pregnant with light’ning, hail, and thunder storm;

So Gallia’s flying ships, and our pursuing fleet,

Glide on in flaming gloom, and in loud thunder greet.

Yard-arm, and yard-arm now, and side, to side,

Pikes, pistols, guns, with brisk dispatch are ply’d.

From ship to ship, grapples and chains are thrown;

Pole-axes grasp’d, and cutlasses are drawn:

With inborn glow, our tars prepare t’assail,

Resolv’d they board, and uncontroul’d prevail.

Brave Boscawen bears down, with gen’rous rage;

And tho’ dismasted, dares De Clue t’engage. [page 50]

So fierce they fought! so many broadsides fir’d!

The brass * relented, and the guns grew tir’d!

De Clue now fled, (with thousands) hid in smoke,

Which from the British fleet, with veng’ance broke;

And left their ships, at random on the sea,

To rocks, and flames, and English tars a prey.

To shun Boscawen’s rage, and horrid roar,

The Gallic Ocean † tumbled on the shore.

End of BOOK II.


   * If I am not much mistaken, I heard, that the muzzles of some of the Ocean’s brass guns bent downward; the metal being mollified by excessive heat of the oft repeated discharges.

   † The ship De Clue commanded.

[page 51]



GREAT BRITAIN’S preparation of her fleet, and troops, against Quebec, under Admiral Saunders, and Admiral Holmes; and the Generals, Wolfe, Monckton, and Townshend. The pannic in France! and at Quebec! as the consequence thereof. The fleet sailing; their arrival in the river of Quebec. The formidable appearance, and resolution, of the English, Scotch, Irish, and Provincials; when they remember’d Zell, and the scalping butchery of the French, Canadians, and Indians. The fleet proceeding up the gulf, and the English Wolfe landing against the enemy. His intrepidity, and the execution of his attacks. Fireships sent down, several times by the French, upon the stream, to burn our fleet; but by the vigilance of Admiral Saunders, Holmes, and other resolved Commanders; join’d with the indefatigable resolution, and activity of our bold, and hardy tars; they are baffled in all their schemes, and the fireships, and the firefloats, do no damage [page 52] to the English fleet. The vexation of the French thereon; and the war carried to their walls. The united battery of General Wolfe, on Point Levi: Admiral Saunders, below the town, and Admiral Holmes, above the town.

   GENERAL Wolfe, represented as in suspence, on Point Levi; on account of the small number of forces he had with him, and on viewing Montcalm’s camp, with near double the number; and observing the stupendous height, and stability of the town, and garrison of Quebec; compared to Babylon’s, (as was thought impregnable) ramparts, for the town stood upon a lofty rock, and well defended by trench, on trench, and impassable works, and avenues: rising dreadfully to view! one above another. General Wolfe’s intrepid resolves, to attack Monsieur Montcalm’s entrenchments. The dangerous landing; fight, and retreat. The undaunted behaviour of Captain Ochterlony, (a Scotch gentleman,) and Lieutenant Peyton, (an Irish gentleman;) both of one company of Royal American Grenadiers; left wounded on the field of battle. Their refusal to be carried off. Two Indians, and a Frenchman, attack Captain Ochterlony, Mr. Peyton, (after a long struggle,) kills the Indians, and is resu’d from about thirty more, by three Highlanders, detach’d by Captain M’Donald of Fraser’s Battalion. General Wolfe is vex’d at his repulse, and sickens through care [page 53] and watching. The united efforts of the soldiers, and seamen, to reduce the place. The battery against, and from the town, and all the terrors! carnage! and tumult of the siege described! the terror of the French, Canadians, and Indians, on account of their cruelty, and treachery!

   GENERAL Amherst, Townshend, Johnson, Howe, Prideaux, Rogers, Forbes, Schomberg, and their transactions on the Continent mentioned, by way of episode; who reduc’d Ticonderoga, Crown-Point, and Niagara; with some other services perform’d by them. The siege of Quebec reassum’d. The day of battle describ’d before the town. The difficulty our troops met in ascending the hill, and their resolution. The summit of the hill gain’d. The armies meeting. A short essay on the Generals. The fight begun. General Wolfe’s wrist broken by a ball. His intrepidy and desire for battle. General Wolfe wounded a second time; but dissembles the hurt. Wounded a third time, mortally! drops, and is carried out of the battle. The manner of his death! and how it was receiv’d at home. His mother’s grief, and England’s in general. The generosity of the common people, at the time of rejoicing and illumination. A short address to his mother. The grief of the soldiers in the battle for him. Their generous rage! impetuous! [page 54] and overwhelming united attack of the enemy! Colonel Howe’s station in the field.

   A DESCRIPTION of the Anstruthers, and Scots, with their broad swords, and the rest of the troops, with their bayonets fix’d; piercing through, hewing down whole lanes of carnage! and rolling the Gallic squadrons before them, in confusion! General Monckton wounded: his behaviour, and a short parallel between him, and General Townshend.

   GENERAL Townshend takes the command. His intrepidity; like Achilles, leading on his myrmidons to battle, to revenge the death of his dear Patroclus! the wounded Ulysses! Diomed! &c. &c. &c. The general rout, and slaughter of Montcalm, and his troops. Bougainvill’s corps appears, just as the rout began: but is soon likewise routed by General Townshend, and our animated troops, and sent full speed, to join the rest in their retreat.

   THE chace continu’d to the town of Quebec: our troops mixing with, running down, and taking the Frenchmen prisoners at will, with the surrender of the town, and garrison, to General Townshend. [page 55]






[illustration: C]HERBURG, Du Quesne, Goree, and Senegal;

Victims, to BRITAIN’S fierce resentment fall.

Strong Louisbourg, and Guadaloup flung down,

GREAT BRITAIN’S arms, with glorious conquest crown.

French captiv’d fleets, (new mann’d,) protect our coast;

Lewis no cause has got, whereof to boast;

Nor Royal GEORGE to grieve, that he Minorca lost.

How satiate now, GREAT BRITAIN might sit down:

But BRUNSWICK still puts on a threat’ning frown. [unnumbered page]

By Pitt, (to strike with awe the wond’ring world,)

Against Quebec, old England’s thunder’s hurl’d;

With mischief sure, the bolts destructive fly,

Guided by Him, who thunders from the sky,

From pole to pole, great Albion’s terror’s known;

She roars in thunder! and her pow’r they own,

Amid the frigid, and the torrid zone!

   WINTER elaps’d, the welcome spring appears;

Saunders, aloft, the British ensign rears.

English, Hibernians, Scotchmen, all combine;

With one content, (resolv’d) united join,

T’imbark, and boldly urge the grand design.

   COMMISSION’D now, brave Admiral Saunders fails,

At Paris, sad foreboding fear prevails:

The coast of France, a pannic dread alarms;

BRITANNIA’S sons are rous’d again to arms!

As when a flock of swans, have ken’d on high,

A dreaded eagle, sousing from the sky;

They flutter, scream, and gather closely round,

And with a place of safety could be found;

Till down he comes, upon the pinion’d prey;

Scatters, and tears, and bears a swan away.

When Saunders fail’d, in France such moan was heard;

But Quebec, chiefly, his approaches fear’d;

There Albion’s thunders, with destructive roar;

Quebec, (well mann’d,) from Lewis, reeking tore:

And laid Canadians welt’ring in their gore. [page 57]

So oft, before, have England’s adm’rals hurl’d,

Great GEORGE’S flame, and terror thro’ the world!

   WIDE o’er the deep, through storms, and blust’ring gales,

Safe to the Continent, our squadron fails.

Provincials arm’d, against Quebec t’engage,

Welcome the fleet; and burn with new born rage.

Provincials, English, Scotch, Hibernians bold,

Frown formidably, dreadful to behold!

Within their minds, Canadians butch’ries rise,

Each cruel plan, the treach’rous Gauls devise:

Gloomy they low’r, like pond’rous show’rs when born,

Towards a field of yellow standing corn:

Till down a deluge comes, with rattling sound,

And beats the plenteous harvest to the ground;

So BRITAIN’S troops, when they remembered Zell, *

And scalping knives, frown’d with resentment fell,

With gen’rous rage! they beat Quebec to ground!

And recompence most just, the base Canadians found.

   SAUNDERS proceeds, up thro’ St. Laurence gulf;

On shore descended BRITAIN’S fearless Wolfe:

And with an (eager) martial transport flew,

Upon the black, Canadian, scalping crew!

   * The place in Germany, where Monsieur Richlieu, burnt the Orphan-house, and four hundred orphans in it.

[page 58]

Yet warm from Louisbourg, and blood of Gaul;

He long’d to see the savage Indians fall.

Keen threat’ning fires, he shot from wrathful eyes,

Whilst from his brazen engines veng’ance flies.

His manly bosom burn’d, with freeborn flame;

To spread the terror of his sov’reign’s name.

He burst like fate, against the scalping foe;

And whelm’d them in the Gallic overthrow.

Levi at first, and Orleans they posses’d;

And to the batt’ring siege, themselves address’d.

Large, and small fascine batteries, soon are plann’d,

And guns, and murd’ring mortars quickly mann’d.

The shells and shot, and black disploding grain,

Are sent to Wolfe, nor are they sent in vain;

He deals destsruction ’mongst Canadian pow’rs,

Their bulwark razes, and subverts their tow’rs.

   WHILST Wolfe, and Saunders, ’gainst Quebec combine,

The French (alarm’d) had plann’d a dire design,

To execute a dreadful fiery * doom;

An in relentless blaze, the fleet consume.

   * Whilst General Wolfe, and Admiral Saunders, were uniting their utmost efforts, to batter, destroy, and take the town: or bring Mons. De Montcalm, (an able, fortunate, and brave commander) to battle: the French several times sent down from the town, on the rapid stream, fireships, and boats full of combustibles, to destroy our shipping, which almost wholly fill’d the channel. But by the extraordinary skill, and vigilance of Admiral Saunders; the bravery and intrepidity of his officers, and sailors, every vessel of this kind sent against them, was tow’d ashore, without doing the least mischief.

[page 59]

As Etna oft, with sulph’rous flame, and noise,

Subjacent towns and cities quick destroys;

Whene’er inrag’d, the mountain overflows,

And from its womb, th’infernal mixture throws;

So from Quebec, (adrift,) the Gallic flame;

Down thro’ the gulf, against the brave Saunders came.

Toward the British fleet, the terrors ride,

In awful manner, on the rapid tide;

The blazing deaths, a little fleet appear!

(Enough to strike the boldest soul with fear!)

As if th’infernal coast, (itself,) was drawing near!

Saunders aware, descry’d ’em from afar,

And soon prepar’d to meet the flaming war.

GREAT BRITAIN’S tars toward the danger speed;

And prov’d they were true Englishmen indeed.

(For as the Grecians gather’d from a far,

When Hector urg’d along the flaming war,

Round Ajax throng’d, his near approach to greet,

To sell their lives, and save the Grecian fleet:

(Begirt with Trojans *, on the hero came;

And high uplifted, bore the Phrygian flame:)

   * The whole story, of the battle near the ship of the dead Protesilaus; the compact body, and immoveable resolution of the Grecian phalanx, around the two Ajaces, and several other commanders, opposing the desperate, and formidable onset of Hector; (exulting in his having pass’d the wall, which guarded the ships, and the Grecian camp;) begirt with the fiercest, and prime warrriors of his Army, and the numerous bands of the then triumphant Trojans, rushing furiously on after, (like a deluge,) with the fiery war: the Grecians’ struggles to repulse the Trojans, and save the fleet;

[page 60]

Resolv’d they fix’d, nor ever once gave ground,

Till Hector’s flame, in Trojan blood was drown’d.

So English sailors, glow’d with fierce desires,

Resolv’d to quell those num’rous floating fires.

Boats, throng on boats, as near the fireships drew;

Clapp’d close on board, and chains, and grapples threw:

With busy, anxious minds, they boldly wrought;

And Gallia’s burning scheme, reduc’d to nought.

Canadians, Gauls, (frustrated,) all in vain,

Gnashing their teeth, to senseless walls complain,

Just as a hungry wolf, but slowly flies,

Whilst dogs, and shepherds, follow with their cries,

Grinning, oft turns, with fear, and fierce disdain,

Reluctant runs, and quits the bleating plain,

His savage fierceness, scarcely can with-hold,

So grinn’d Quebec, by Providence controul’d:

So fled their tars, when our brave tars appear’d;

They heard their shouts, their boist’rous greating fear’d.

   THO’ sev’ral ships, with fires infernal glow’d,

From larboard, starboard, clear, each flame was tow’d:

Whilst BRUNSWICK’S ships, at anchor safely rode.

and the Trojans’ efforts, to rush on, and burn the fleet, with the scale of battle turn’d by the approach of Patroclus, in Achilles’s armour, and chariot, with Hector’s retreat, the Grecian navy sav’d from Hector’s flame, the Trojan rout, and carnage, which ensu’d; may be read in the fifteenth, and sixteenth books of Homer’s Iliad.

[page 61]

BRITAIN exult! Let wond’ring nations hear,

Thy freeborn tars, mock at the name of fear!

Far from their hearts, despondency they chace;

And boldly stare destruction in the face!

Fear not my lads, says ev’ry British tar,

Whilst plunging ’midst the thunder of the war.

Thus oft, the French sent down their horrid fires,

As oft, our sailors glow’d with fierce desires,

To grapple with the flaming sulph’rous war!

T’oppose their boats! And all their schemes to mar!

Where flame, and death, and war, tumult’ous rage!

There shout the British tars! And with delight engage!

   AS Grecians sav’d their fleet, from Trojan flame,

And ’gainst strong Troy, with burning veng’ance came,

Saunders, and Wolfe, and Holmes, repay’d the Gauls;

And brought GREAT BRITAIN’S thunder to their walls.

   FROM Levi’s Point, Wolfe’s rapid storm came down!

Saunders below, and Holmes above the town,

(Intent on war, in fulminating sort,)

Eject their bolts, to raze the Gallic fort.

From ships and batt’ries, with destruction stor’d,

In triple concert, England’s veng’ance roar’d. [page 62]

   ON Levi’s Point, Wolfe ruminating stood;

Thence Montcalm’s camp, and strong Quebec he view’d.

Quebec, whose base was on a lofty rock;

Dispos’d to stand, amidst the fiercest shock:

Tho’ English fleets, the garrison surround,

And English forces throng th’adjacent ground;

Like those, on Babylon’s stupendous wall *

Who fear’d no foes, tho’ Heav’n should threat the fall;

By art, and nature, form’d for strong defence,

With proud disdain, the French look’d down from thence.

   ON glorious death, or well earn’d conquest bent:

Wolfe, with his troops, to Montmorenci † went:

Attack’d the trenches, brav’d the num’rous foe,

Who sculk’d behind their banks, and fear’d an overthrow!

   THE time decisive now, came on to storm,

And death put on, a fierce tremendous form!

   * The people of Babylon, when the city was besieg’d, look’d down with a fearless disdain, on the troops which beleaguer’d the walls, and trusted to their stupendous height and strength. So Quebec, both by art, and nature, was most strongly fortified, and render’d capable of an obstinate defence.

   † The place, near where Mons. Montcalm was entrench’d.

[page 63]

His vanguard, were the terrors of the night;

Wolfe, Monckton, Townshend, whetted for the fight;

English, Hibernians, Caledonians, arm’d

With native rage, for dang’rous battle warm’d:

Provincials too, with emulation came;

And march’d intrepid, to the field of fame.

The British tars, as strong reserves await;

To join the chace, or favour the retreat.

Inviron’d thus, midst terrors on he came!

With BRITAIN’S thunderbolts, and sulph’rous flame!

   NOW near the shore, th’assailing forces drew,

And leaden deaths, (like hail,) in vollies flew.

English, Canadians, French, drop all around;

Guns, men, and blood, bestrew the slipp’ry ground.

French deep mouth’d guns, disgorge their murdr’ing glut;

From front to rear, wide lanes of carnage cut:

Descending bombs, (from num’rous forts of Gaul,)

Among the troops, and boats, in plenty fall;

Promiscuous kill; with fulminating light,

Displode, and add, new terrors to the fight.

The troops, and tars, rush’d on, with martial wrath!

Thro’ floods of flame! and deluges of death!

Wolfe, and his men, thro’ dangers, speed to shore,

Where Gallic guns, and murd’ring mortars roar:

Gauls, and Canadians, mix’d, engage ten deep;

Our troops attempt an ascent, rough, and steep; [page 64]

And on the neck of danger, dare to land,

Where Gallia’s thick mud banks were ten times mann’d!

At length retreat; (for numbers gain’d the day,)

Whilst Peyton *, ’mongst the dead, and wounded lay.

Not far: (descending to the shades of night;)

Lay Ochterlony †, in a dismal plight:

Their two great hearts, by martial glow were fir’d;

And both their souls, sweet friendship’s flame inspir’d:

Of characters unblam’d; and free from stains:

Link’d, firm as fate, in amicable chains.

The Grenadiers wou’d fain their help bestow;

And bear them (wounded) from the scene of woe:

No, gen’rous friends; the Caledonian said;

Bear that brave man, (in safety) from the dead;

Pointing to Peyton, with his fractur’d bone:

Here let me lie, and bleed to death alone.

Peyton refus’d, (with generous disdain;)

To leave his wounded friend upon the plain:

Fierce as the dragon guards th’Hesperian fruit,

Lay bleeding, (warm’d,) to meet the dread dispute.

   * Mr. Peyton was an Irish gentleman, lieutenant of Captain Ochterlony’s company of Grenadiers.

   † Mr. Ochterlony was a Scotch gentleman, and captain of a company of Royal American Grenadiers. He and Mr. Peyton were inseparable friends, and of unblemish’d characters.

[page 65]

   HERE seems for death, an emulating strife,

Peyton, some minutes, guards departing life;

And Ochterlony, with his dying breath,

Begs Peyton’s rescue from the field of death.

  AS there they lay, among the num’rous slain,

Two scalping murderers, (with cruel mein,)

Join’d by a Gaul, towards the warriors drew;

And acted like a plund’ring * highway crew;

Now Ochterlony rose from off the ground:

(Tho’ pain’d, and bleeding, from a mortal † wound!)

 Within his reach, no friendly weapon saw,

Wherewith to deal the Caledonian blow;

Else, doubtless, all his mighty blows had felt,

And fall’n beneath the strokes, his rage had dealt:

As dying lions, wide destruction spread;

Crush dogs, and men, design’d to dash his head,

An ill aim’d firelock, on his shoulder ‡laid:

   * They took Mr. Peyton’s lac’d hat from him, and robb’d Captain Ochterlony of his watch, and money, and then one of the Indians attempted to knock his brains out, with his firelock, and the other discharg’d into his body, and stabb’d him with his scalping knife.

   † He was shot through the lungs, with a musket ball: wore no sword in the action, and was oblig’d to drop his fusee, long before; so that now, he was quite unarm’d.

   ‡ ‡ ‡ One of the Indians, attempted to knock him on the head, miss’d the blow, and laid it on his shoulder, the

[page 66]

Another, full of savage (Gallic) wrath,

Pour’d in his breast, a load ‡ of leaden death:

A third effort, the butch’ring Savage made;

And thro’ his belly plung’d his scalping ‡ blade.

Most fiercely kneeling *, midst his murd’ring foes,

His naked hands still parry’d off their blows;

He call’d to wounded Peyton, deeply pain’d;

And of their outrage, to his friend complain’d †.

As rush’d the Trojan hero , from the shade,

And dealt destruction with his mortal blade;

Soon as he saw the fatal blow descend,

And on the ground, a gallant dying friend:

Like him, fierce Peyton, straightway boldly rear’d;

Defiance frown’d! and both the scalpers dar’d:

Rouz’d, tho in pain, ’twixt bravery, and hate,

He groan’d in § flame, and sent the leaden fate;

other discharged into his breast, and stabb’d him in the belly with his scalping knife. He still stood, and call’d to Mr. Peyton, O Peyton! the villain has shot me!

   * They brought him on his knees, by repeated blows, and efforts, and thought to strangle him with his sash: but he still, (tho’ so often, and deadly wounded,) with surprising exertion, baffled them: and after all, got into the town, liv’d some days, and died there.

   † He cried out, O Peyton! the villain has shot me!

   ‡ Nisus, who with Uryalus, issu’d from Eneas’s camp, slew Rhamnes, Rhemus, and many others, of the enemy’s camp, and march’d onward, to warn Eneas of their danger; but were met by Volscens, in the wood, with tree hundred horse, two of which, besides Volscens, Nisus slew, in revenge of the gallant Uryalus, slain by them.

   § Mr. Peyton had a double barrel’d fusee.

[page 67]

Which gain’d th’event, the gallant Peyton hop’d,

By death arrested, down an Indian dropp’d:

On Ochterlony fell, design’d his prey,)

And grinning, groan’d his savage soul away.

When Furio saw his mate bereav’d of life,

Frowning, he grasp’d his fatal scalping knife;

Fiercely, toward the wounded Peyton sped,

In fancy, seiz’d his scalp, and doom’d him dead.

The bold Hibernian, still unconquer’d stood;

His fractur’d leg, pour’d out the vital blood:

Tho’ his firm heart, of blood was nearly drain’d;

Resenting rage, and courage, yet remain’d:

Tho’ wounded, and alone amidst the field;

To Indian foes, he greatly scorn’d to yield:

For as the Savage nearer to him drew,

His scorn encreas’d, and resolution grew:

On one foot poiz’d again, he boldly fir’d:

But fate deny’d the great event desir’d:

Th’Indian’s breast, receiv’d the missive ball:

But still, unshock’d, as if it struck a wall;

He shew’d no sign of pain, and scorn’d to fall!

’Gainst Peyton, he, the leaden ruin sent:

Which ah! full sure, the hero’s shoulder rent;

Then onward rush’d, (full of Canandian pride,)

His bay’net flesh’d, and thrust it thro’ his side.

The second thrust, he found himself deceiv’d;

Peyton’s left hand the sanguin’d point receiv’d:

Which seiz’d the musket with uncommon wrath,

Whilst his right hand drew forth the glitt’ring * death:

   * Mr. Peyton, luckily wore a dagger.

[page 68]

He play’d again the brave Hibernian’s part;

And plung’d his faithful dagger to his heart.

Now hand to hand they join, and face to face;

And grasp and struggle, in a close embrace:

For prey, the Savage still maintain’d the strife;

Peyton, for vict’ry fought, for fame, and life:

He oft his dagger plung’d, and groan’d, and frown’d,

And spurn’d th’infernal scalper to the ground.

   SO wounded tygers, on East Indian plains,

Run down by Blacks, and vex’d with pungent pains;

Drop to the ground, and seem to pant for breath,

A prey almost to grim all conq’ring death:

But on th’approach of black pursuing foes,

Again reviv’d, their innate courage glows:

Rampant they rear, and roar, and swing their tails;

With deadly fangs, and lacerating nails;

They tear, and kill, and stain the place with blood;

Walk growling off, and shelter in the wood;

As Peyton limp’d, (with cruciating pain,)

After he had Canadian scalpers slain.

   A BAND * of savage Indians now drew near:

But Peyton fac’d, as if forgot to fear.

   * These were a company of above thirty, in full march, to destroy him: but when he fac’d about, the foremost halted, and waited to be join’d by their fellows, but he kept them all at a distance, till three brave Highlanders, (detached from a small party, headed by Captain Macdonald, a Scotch gentleman,) came to his timely rescue, and carried him off the field of battle.

[page 69]

As if grim death had brandish’d high his dart;

They stood aloof, and terror fill’d each heart!

So Ajax turn’d, and frown’d at Ilium’s tow’rs;

When Grecians fled from conq’ring Trojan pow’rs;

A living bulwark in the rear remain’d;

The chace retarded, and the charge sustain’d!

The mean soul’d French, seem’d on his death intent;

And from the breastwork, thund’ring vollies sent.

Peyton, (as if invulnerable) stood,

Sedate, in pain, their grov’ling rancour view’d.

For mighty fate frustrated spiteful Gauls;

To right and left, wide flew their hissing balls!

As he such wonders in their fight had done;

So bravely fought, and dear bought vict’ry won;

French harmless cannon took a random aim!

They roar’d applause! and thunder’d loud acclaim!

   MACDONALD * now, (with emulating flame,)

Amid surrounding dangers fiercely came:

And with his little party rush’d along,

Before him, French and Indians fearful throng.

As bears, when chac’d, will sometimes make a stand,

And rush triumphant, thro’ the hunting band;

For stolen cubs, with double fury burn!

And scatter death, which way foe’er they turn!

   * Mr. Macdonald was a Scotch gentleman, a captain in Colonel Frazer’s battalion, who came for a young gentleman, his kinsman, who dropp’d on the field of battle, and bore him in triumph off, against all opposition.

[page 70]

So for his fall’n friend, Macdonald stray’d,

And bore him from the field of battle dead.

As round he turn’d his anxious busy sight,

He saw brave Peyton, in distressed plight:

Sent three fierce Highlanders across the field;

Who from the Savages, the hero shield.

’Midst vollies *, flame *, and deaths *, and Gallic * fire;

With him, (triumphant,) from the foes retire!

Like Scipio †, thro’ the field, with carnage strow’d;

So he, upon the Scotchman’s shoulders rode!

Now Providence once more espous’d their cause;

French harmless cannon, roar’d a loud applause!

   HERE brightly shines another glorious strife,

Th’ Hibernian ‡ sav’d the Caledonian’s ‡ life;

And now Macdonald, thirsting after fame,

(From Indian knives,) to Peyton’s rescue came.

   REPULS’D and vex’d, uncertain of supplies;

Wolfe view’d the lofty town with ardent eyes:

   * * * * They were about sixty yards from the enemy’s breastwork, and troops, who kept a continual fire of cannon, and small arms, on them, but they got all triumphant off.

   † Young Scipio, took his father on his shoulders, when in danger, and carried him through the enemy’s battle, to a place of safety. It may be read in the Carthaginian war.

   ‡ ‡ Mr. Peyton at first, kill’d the Indians attempting to kill Captain Ochterlony; and now Mr. Macdonald, a Scotch captain, rescues Mr. Peyton from a party of Indians coming down upon him; the whole story may be read at large, in the British Magazine of January, 1760.

[page 71]

And whilst he plann’d the methods to prevail,

(Resolv’d he wou’d the garrison assail;)

His mighty soul within his bosom rag’d,

And war intestine with his body wag’d.

His enterprizing mind, by glory fir’d;

To honour’s summit emulous aspir’d:

His genius active: but his body slow,

To counteract, the strong, the Gallic foe.

As guns are worn by fierce expanding flame;

Resolves intrepid shook his tender frame.

   THO’ first the landing in dispute was held,

And BRITAIN’S troops by numbers were repell’d;

Like hungry lions, (foaming for their prey;)

Our troops again prepare to force their way.

As ev’ry grain with joint impulsive force,

The bullet urges in its rapid course;

Soldiers, * and sailors, * join’d against the Gauls,

With bombs, and bullets, raz’d the lofty walls.

French and Canadians, under covert get:

Death glances swift along the parapet.

Rais’d up aloft, descending death comes down,

Like Egypt’s hail, upon the subject town:

   * * It is very remarkable, the union that subsisted between the soldiers and sailors, during the long, tedious, and dangerous siege; always ready, and active, to support, and assist each other, and seen’d never better pleas’d, than when an opportunity offer’d of exerting themselves, for each other: as if fir’d by emulation, who could show themselves most alert, to gain a glorious name, and stand with the most intrepid souls, the greatest shock of danger.

[page 72]

Which mix’d with fierce æthereal flame around,

Beat man, and beast, and cattle to the ground:

So glancing bombs dance madly thro’ the street:

And with displosion fierce, their houses greet:

(Which piece-meal torn,) to open view display’d,

The bases of the strongest domes are laid.

Men, women, children, ’midst the flame are lost;

(To atoms rent, and into nothing tost:)

With these, the flaming carcases conspire,

To scatter ruin, and devouring fire.

British and Gallic guns, and mortars sound;

With roar destructive shake th’adjacent ground!

Shrieks! groans! and yells! and hostile shouts! are heard around!

Such noise heard Satan, (that deceiver fell;)

When on the verge of chaos, night, and hell.

With eager speed, they guns and mortars ply:

And thronging deaths of lead, and iron fly:
Our troops roar death against the batter’d walls;

And death, receive again, from fretful Gauls.

   AS moles, to subterraneous holes betake;

So engineers, (unseen,) approaches make:

Prepar’d (like earthquakes, tumid, from below,)

To rise destructive, with sulphurous glow:

And raze the town and fort, with instant overthrow.

Wolfe, and his troops, (with slow advances) steal

Towards the town, still anxious to prevail. [page 73]

   WITH full ten thousand, Montcalm keeps the trench:

Canadians mix’d, with trembling, tim’rous French.

Quebec holds out, and much surrender dreads;

Wolfe shakes his flaming veng’ance o’er their heads.

Conscious of British blood, by murder spilt;

Of treaties broke, and sportive scalping guilt;

Of mothers ripp’d, and helpless infants cries;

Which calls for sweeping judgment from the skies;

They roll with gloomy dread their haggard eyes.

   MEAN while, brave Amherst, Johnson, Rogers, warm

With native zeal, the continent alarm,

Townshend, and Bradstreet, Prideaux, Howe, advance;

With Forbes, Schomberg, ’gainst the friends of France.

   SO much respect the gallant Howe * had gain’d,

The post of honour had so well maintained;

   * Colonel Howe, who was unfortunately kill’d, advancing to the attack of Ticonderoga; and for whom, the people of Massachusetts-Bay, erected a monument, in Westminster-Abbey. The Province of Massachusetts-Bay, in New England, by an order of the General Court, bearing

[page 74]

That when he bravely fell against the Gauls,

Before Ticonderoga’s fatal walls;

In Massachusetts-Bay, for his great worth,

A gen’rous flame of gratitude broke forth:

A costly monument they chearful give;

That Howe, tho’ dead, may in remembrance live:

There may be read New England’s grateful flame;

Howe’s luckless death; and mighty warring fame.

   AMHERST drove on, cloath’d in stern war’s alarms;

And spread the terror of Britannia’s arms.

(Thro’ pathless dangers; and thro’ deep defiles,)

From ambush safe, and base Canadian wiles;

He past victorious, Heav’n propitious smiles.

So Hannibal, o’er alpine mountains sped,

And Carthaginians ’gainst the Romans led.

The gallant Johnson, and Provincial rose;

With Amherst join’d, against our plotting foes.

   BEFORE him, forts, towns, corn, and plenty stood;

Behind, black desolation might be view’d;

Bulwarks unmann’d, and trenches drench’d in blood:

date, Feb. 1, 1759, caused this monument to be erected to the memory of George Augustus, Lord Viscount Howe, Brigadier General of His Majesty’s Forces in America, who was slain, July 6, 1758, on his march to Ticonderoga, in the thirty-fourth year of his age; in testimony of the sense they had of his services and military virtues, and of the affection their officers and soldiers bore to his command.

[page 75]

Canadian carnage round the rampiers lay;

And treach’rous Gallic blood, mark’d out his way:

Provincials rage and British heroes glow,

For grand revenge, against the scalping foe:

And like that death, which much fam’d Milton made,

Whom Satan found amid th’infernal shade;

And told him straight, he shou’d mankind devour,

He bless’d his maw, and wish’d the happy hour;

Grinn’d horrid smiles, and brandish’d high his dart,

Prepar’d to strike each living creature’s heart:

So these rejoice, (inrag’d,) with vengeful gloom;

And with the day, to fix Canadia’s doom:

They knit their brows, and with a stern disdain,

Frown future veng’ance thro’ Canadia’s plain:

For savage Montcalm in their minds remain’d,

Who tamely stood, while Gallic Indians stain’d

With British conquer’d blood, Fort William’s * plains,

Ripp’d mothers up, and dash’d out infanst brains!

   * When Fort William was taken in America, by Monsieur Montcalm, after the surrender of the fort, and our troops were marching out, (according to capitulation:) the Indians fell upon our soldiers, as they pass’d on, with their wives and children, and begun to knock down, strip, and butcher men, women, and children, promiscuously! whilst Monsieur Montcalm, and the French troops stood and look’d tamely on the dispersion! confusion! and carnage of the English! and on being ask’d by some gentlemen, (who fled to

[page 76]

As when fierce tygers roar amid the wood,

Hunting for prey, full scent on human blood;

The trav’ller hears, and wing’d with dread surprize,

To distant shelter for his safety flies:

So veng’ance Amherst roar’d, the French and Indians creep

To woods, and caves, and forts, like flocks of tim’rous sheep.

   NOW on the wings of time, the morn appear’d,

Whose dread approach, Quebec so greatly fear’d.

When Montcalm, and his troops, shou’d quit the field:

To Monckton, Wolfe, and Townshend, vanquish’d yield.

The martial Trine ascend the rugged hill,

The troops inspir’d, a manly ardour feel;

them, and claim’d their protection,) why they suffer’d this outrage, and cruelty? Montcalm, answer’d them in a frivolous manner, something to this purport: “That they were a desperate, savage fort of people; scarcely to be kept within bounds; their good friends, and allies, serv’d them for what plunder they could get; and claim’d it as their due: (tho’ sore against his will;) and as the case stood, they being so resolute, and ungovernable, he could not well tell how to refrain them.” However, several who escap’d in the general tumult, fled back to him, and had the great humanity shown them, to be preserv’d from butchery. Whilst the Indians still continu’d to glut themselves, in plundering, scalping, ripping women’s bodies, and dashing childrens brains out! at least, if all this was not done there; it was done at other places several times.

[page 77]

They clamber up the precipices steep;

Retarded oft, and oft times forc’d to creep:

From bough to bough, themselves they onward drew;

Their resolution with the danger grew:

Most nobly rouz’d, to act beyond compare,

And show the world, how much true Britons dare;

To give the French another specimen,

Like Poictiers, Cressy, Blenheim, Dettingen!

And like the (sturdy) British troops of old;

With whom the HENRYS oft the Gauls controul’d;

Onward they trod, with great heroic glow,

To hew thro’ squadrons of the num’rous foe;

Who from a four gun fort to flight betake,

As Wolfe and Monckton their approaches make;

With which our troops the flying Frenchmen rake.

   RAPID as torrents, when they downward sweep;

Howe, and his corps, ascend the rocky steep,

They clear’d the path, the French guards dislodg’d pursu’d,

And all our troops upon the summit flood.

There undisturb’d they rang’d, in dread array,

E’er Phœbus thither roll’d the car of day.

   THEIR near approach alarm’d the threaten’d town.

And now death wore a formidable frown.

He fill’d the battlements of hostile walls;

To right and left sustain’d by troops of Gauls; [page 78]

Canadians black, fill’d up the howling rear:

And female shrieks, and tremor, and pale fear;

And shatter’d flaming domes, close at their heels appear!

   NOW Montcalm dares t’evacuate the trench:

(Six thousand Britons brave ten thousand French.)

Montcalm, whose name is brought, by fame from far;

In battle brave, and much expert in war;

On whom all France, and Lewis had an eye,

On whose try’d conduct, chiefly they rely;

Montcalm, who had so long great Wolfe withstood;

And as a dam repels a mighty flood;

(Well vers’d in war, back’d by Canadian force,)

Stopp’d the brave warrior in his rapid course:

Thus at a bay, retarded, (not repell’d;)

Cape Breton’s scourge, and England’s troops were held.

   NOUGHT can the will of mighty fate oppose;

For Montcalm dares, and Wolfe with ardour glows.

The hour is come, and now their eager feet

Advance with speed, in fierce assault to meet;

And with a hostile frown, each other greet.

So Anthony dar’d Cæsar once t’oppose;

And ne’er since then, till now, met two such foes.

   AT stake, (on fortune of the doubtful day,)

Canadia’s weal, and Britain’s honour lay. [page 79]

Tho’ the spruce Gauls and Indians rudely sneer’d,

And ask’d how Wolfe, and his eight thousand dar’d,

To come so far against their strong Quebec;

Drawn by fond hope to give their arms a check?

Advis’d he’d go, and this for truth report;

I can’t attack, much less reduce the fort;

For Montcalm occupies th’adjacent plain;

Whose camp I cannot force * nor charge * sustain.

Wolfe, like a lion growl’d, when held at bay;

And roar’d an answer, on this fatal day.

   WITH rested arms, behold our troops advance

To meet the coming num’rous troops of France.

   * * On the arrival of admiral Saunders, with General Wolfe, and the troops, near Quebec, when the French understood he had but eight thousand troops with him, it is reported, they almost sneer’d at him with disdain; confiding in the lofty and strong situation of the place; and the almost double number of regulars, they had entrench’d, near the town, at the only attackable spot, under a bold, enterprising, and fortunate General; Monsieur De Montcalm, and ask’d where he had left the keys of Quebec; and in a taunting manner, would have him return, and ask his King for them; for he could not force the bars of their gates: not daring to approach near enough; because Monsieur De Montcalm occupy’d the vacant plain, and form’d a living outwork round their rampart, too dreadful for his near approaches; and before whose war he could not stand, if he chose to evacuate the trenches, and give him battle! but how contrary the great, (and almost unhop’d for) event, of all these vaunts was, every one is so well acquainted with it, that it needs no recital here. And I wish could say, needs no grief, for the loss of so great a Patriot, and brave Commander.

[page 80]

The Highlanders discharg’d, their broad swords drew;

And close to battle, with the Frenchmen flew,

The rest, as fiercely charg’d the troops of Gaul,

When lo, Wolfe’s wrist was broken by a ball.

(Sound was his heart,) he wrapp’d it up undrest,

And (unconcern’d,) among the foremost prest.

Like to a lion, whom the dogs surround,

By hunters vex’d, and rouz’d by painful wound;

The fearless beast will all their terrors dare,

He growls and foams, and shakes his shaggy hair:

Aloft they stand, nor dare provoke the fight;

He roars aloud, with new collected might:

With rage indignant now, his tail he swings;

He looks, and in a storm of death he springs;

O’er horses, dogs, and men, his course is bent;

Whose bodies strew the way, the gen’rous Savage went.

   THUS with rage, most lion-like, he turn’d;

(His indignation ’gainst the Frenchmen burn’d:)

Piercing resistless thro’ the French array;

(And breathless carcases print out his way:)

Where-e’er he turns, death finds an ample prey.

Thousand recede, and those who dare to stand,

Are hewn in lanes, by his victorious band!

   A WOUND, e’er long, a second bullet gave,

And in his belly dug a sanguin’d grave.

(Fearing his wounds might spread a wild dismay,

And fix the dubious fortune of the day:) [page 81]

With well dissembled ease, he onward trod,

Whilst crimson’d life, (unseen) in torrents flow’d!

In that dread fight, at fam’d Thermopylæ!

So * ebb’d the Spartan’s stream of life away!

Whilst he alone, (with hostile hosts inclos’d,)

Hew’d wasteful voids! and all their pow’r oppos’d!

Who, (tho’ a king, in freedom’s glorious cause,)

Fell a glad victim for his country’s laws!

Millions of thronging darts obscur’d the skies;

He falls, all o’er one wound, no more to rise!

Fix’d as a rock his fame, his honour never dies.

So bleeding Wolfe march’d on, without dismay;

To glory’s goal, he mark’d his purple way.

   BUT ah! alas! ’gainst fate what proof is found!

His manly breast receives a mortal wound.

Tho’ sinking down, amid the gloom of death,

The patriot’s bosom glow’d with martial wrath;

And whilst the shades of night upon him steal,

Most anxiously demands, Do we prevail?
He heard we did, and e’er the hero dy’d,

He own’d himself completely satisfy’d!

   * Long after Leonidas, (the gallant king of Lacedæmon, in the battle at the pass of Thermopylæ,) had receiv’d a wound in his flank from a spear; he still rush’d on, bore nations down! thinn’d the thick wedg’d growing ranks of Barbarians! and roll’d the Asian legions back condounded, with his impetuous charge! till faint with loss of blood, and pain, his body throng’d with wounds, o’erweary’d with the long continu’d battle, almost sated with slaughter, and born down by millions, he fell, a noble instance of that magnanimity, with which the spirit of freedom animates a Patriot’s soul!

[page 82]

Cato, self-wounded fell, thro’ proud disdain,

But Wolfe, in fight, was honourably slain.

Th’ unwelcome fatal news, to Britain flies;

And whilst the loud acclaims of joy arise,

For conquest on Canadia’s cruel shore;

They mourn the hero, and his loss deplore.

Maternal fondness, heart felt grief express’d;

And all the mother stood to view confess’d:

Fondly abosrb’d, she seem’d in briny woe;

And sympathizing Britain felt the blow:

The mighty warlike GEORGE, too condescends,

To own his worth, and Royal pity blends.

Then sigh’d, the much renown’d Ligonier;

(Heroes hold heroes, eminently dear.)

The much lov’d Pitt his eloquence display’d,

In due enconiums on the worthy dead:

Such was his rhet’rick; (such the force of truth,)

So great the actions of the Gen’ral’s youth;

In lords and commons, such the grateful flame,

They vote a monument of lasting fame;

With glorious truth his honour to display,

Till marble-blocks (themselves) shall fade away.

The living leaders gain’d a due regard;

BRUNSWICK applauds, and Britain shouts reward.

Each patriot mourn’d, each warring leader sigh’d.

With warlike grief, when Wolfe the hero dy’d.

Among the fair ones, plaintive murmurs ran;

We’ve lost the courteous warrior! gentleman!

Yet from our souls he never shall depart;

Most gloriously intomb’d in ev’ry heart. [page 83]

The Plebeian * crowd, a grateful ardour felt;

And nobly with his mournful parent dealt.

Adjacent great ones * scorn’d to be outdone,

Politely pensive, mourn’d her worthy son:

No fires * there blaz’d! nor bright illuminations shone!

   TO neighb’ring nations, this your fame shall sound,

In sad regret, the gen’ral joy was drown’d.

This sho’d your value for the patriot more

Than blazing joy, join’d with deep throated roar.

By striplings (now) in future days grown old,

This pleasing tale shall to their sons be told;

Whilst Wolfe’s sad mother for her darling wept,

The tumult round her dome, in mute oblivion slept!

   HAIL happy woman! mother of a son!

Who may be equall’d! never be outdone!

   * * * I often heard it reported, that the common people, (when news came that Quebec was taken, and General Wolfe kill’d;) generously refus’d to ring, make any bonfires, or any kind of tumultuous joy, where General Wolfe’s mother liv’d; and that the people of superior rank around her, as politely and generously refus’d to make an illumination; but sullenly seem’d to sympathize, and share her grief. A noble generosity!

[page 84]

This be they boast, thy son, (Britannia’s pride!)

Like great Leonidas *, and Titus † dy’d!

   * Leonidas was a Spartan King, descended from Hercules; who offer’d to sacrifice his life, that Lacedæmon might not be entirely destroy’d by Xerxes, who made an attack upon their countries, and liberties, with an army of about four or five millions: and as the Delphic Oracle had foretold, a king descended from Hercules must die, to preserve their country; Leonidas immediately repair’d to that important pass, of the much fam’d Thermopylæ, with three hundered of his countrymen; who, with the forces of some other cities of the Peloponnesus, together with Thebans, Thespians, and the troops of those states; compos’d an army, of near eight thousand men. With these he oft engag’d, slew, trod down, and chac’d Asians! who might be call’d a host of armies! but for the last fatal encounter, he reserv’d only about fourteen hundred with him, viz. about three hundred Spartans; four hundred Thebans; and seven hundred Thespians. With these he most bravely attack’d the camp of Xerxes, forc’d his way to the royal pavilion! burnt half the camp! and made an incredible slaughter! but at length he fell, overpower’d by millions! not till he might almost be called a conqueror, even in the center of the enemy’s camp.

   † Titus was a young Roman warrior, son to Æmilius, consul of Rome, and governor of Aquileia; and endu’d with that magnanimity, and spirit of freedom, and valour, for which the ancient Romans were so much fam’d. He made a vigorous sally on the camp of Maximin, sustain’d by his brother Paulus, and the valiant Gartha, a Numidian officer in the troops of Æmilius. Gartha return’d wounded from the battle: Paulus and Titus, the two brothers, were surrounded by an host of foes; born down, and taken prisoners; not till they had form’d an heap of carnage round them, and burnt the tower rais’d against the wall of Aquileia. But by means of the impetuous rage of the British legions, in the camp of Maximin, headed by Varus, whom

[page 85]

Their dying arms gave num’rous foes a check!

Thy dying son was conq’ror at Quebec!

At noon of life, his glory’s race was run!

Bright as meridian blaze, his setting sun!

England will ever hold his mem’ry dear!

From age to age, the name of Wolfe revere!

   FOR Wolfe first rose, and with a dreaded frown,

Rush’d on the Gauls, and press’d toward the town;

And with his little army dar’d advance,

Against ten thousand regulars of France:

With many Indian tribes, drawn from afar,

From scalping ambush, and the buch’ring war:

(But these, to combat fair, scarce ever dar’d,

Where biting Caledonian broad swords glar’d.

To ambuscades they run, in shade they lie;

Nor stand the light’ning of an English eye!)

   AS billows spread, when dashing on a rock;

(Which stands unmov’d, amid the pond’rous shock;

They fall in froth and foam, on ev’ry side,

Blended and lost amidst the briny tide:)

So when their troops our frowning troops beheld!

Receiv’d their shock, and found themselves repell’d;

And saw fierce Highlanders their broad swords wield,

They soon fell off, disorder’d thro’ the field.

Now fell brave Wolfe, whose presence oft inspir’d

With warlike glow, and ev’ry warrior fir’d.

Maximin slew, they were set at liberty, and Titus at the head of their resistless war, slew Maximin. But e’er the battle clos’d, receiv’d his mortal wound, and died in Aquileia.

[page 86]

   THE brave defenders of Britannia’s weal;

Which fought round Wolfe, and saw grim death prevail,

Rous’d by esteem and love, (with mighty rage,)

Prepar’d most fiercely with the foe t’engage:

(Each lov’d the man, the warrior all esteem’d;

Their leader, friend, and martial father deem’d.)

Revenge! revenge! injur’d Britannia calls!

(As mighty cat’racts roar from lofty falls!)

They shout! unite! and rush upon the Gauls!

And like a pond’rous overwhelming flood!

They swept along! and glutted death with food!

And Frenchmen mourn’d Wolfe’s fall, in streams of blood!

Howe and his corps *, amid the doubtful field,

Round flank and rear, in semicircle wheel’d;

A living rampart form’d, a fierce offensive shield.

By these, the charging foes were oft repell’d;

Broken, o’eraw’d, and at due distance held;

Or down in carnage trod, in close engagement fell’d.

   E’ER Gallia’s troops, to wild disorder yield;

Reluctant next, brave Monckton quits the field.

   * It is said, in an account of the battle, that Colonel Howe, with his light infantry, cover’d the left wing, and rear, in such a manner, as entirely to frustrate the attempts of the enemy’s Indians and Canadians upon that flank.

[page 87]

Oft frowning turn’d, and ey’d the num’rous Gauls:

Like great Eneas *, near Laurentum’s walls.

Each warring corps with one consent agreed,

Bold Monckton wou’d have done, what Townshend did.

Did Townshend’s bosom glow with martial flame!

Monckton had ardour equal to the fame.

Did Townshend brave th’impetuous Gallic wrath?

So Monckton dar’d! midst show’rs of leaden death.

Was honour, death, or vict’ry, Townshend’s aim?

Conquest, or death, was gallant Monckton’s claim.

Each with indiff’rence, hostile dangers view’d;

And the great end, with souls resolv’d pursu’d.

Monckton led on, to fierce encounter bent;

Till thro’ his lungs the rapid ball was sent.

Th’ill fated bullet nipt his soul’s design,

And sent him wounded from th’advancing line.

   AS fierce Achilles, on the Phrygian plain,

When brave Patroclus was by Hector slain;

And sage Ulysses, from the battle sent,

Came limping, wounded, near the hero’s tent;

Frowning, rush’d on in mighty transport tost,

And with his pow’rs rejoin’d the friendly host;

He, and his myrmidons, like torrents flow’d;

Repell’d! bore down! and o’er the Trojans trod!

   * Whilst the Trojans, under the command of Eneas, were treating with the Rutilians, &c. near the walls of Laurentum in Italy; Eneas receiv’d an arrow in his thigh, and immediately the battle began; from whence he retreated with great reluctance.

[page 88]

So Townshend, and his troops, whilst glory calls,

Impetuous rush’d upon the scatt’ring Gauls.

   HOWE, Murray, Fraser, thirsting after fame;

Walsh, Burton, Dalling, kindling into flame,

With eager speed, towards the Frenchmen throng,

And to the charge, urge Britain’s troops along.

Conspicuous they, ’mongst hardy ranks appear,

In front, in flanks, the center, or the rear;

Macdonald, Ince, with equal glory shine,

Fam’d in the glorious war of fifty nine.

Leaders, and soldiers, with one warring soul,

Thro’ blood, and flame, and deaths, to honour’s gaol,

Onward they plung’d, with veng’ance fiercely pleas’d:

With sanguin’d grasp, the palm of vict’ry seiz’d.

The dying Wolfe, the shouts of conquest heard,

The welcome sound, the bleeding Monckton chear’d.

As when a gen’rous bull has broke his chain,

Lays heaps on heaps o’er all th’ affrighted plain,

Sweeps thro’ the throng, and with resistless wrath,

Spurns, tosses, gores, and tramples crowds to death.

So thro’ the ranks of war Macpherson hew’d;
With martial soul, and manly arm endu’d:

Tho’ with the weight of weak’ning years opprest,

Finds youthful ardour glowing in his breast!

That weight of years no longer seems to feel;

But deals out death, with bright avenging steel! [page 89]

Or as the sons of Scotland, once before,

When they descended on Cape Breton’s shore;

Forc’d through the French, with fierce Herculean might,

And triumph’d ’midst the dangers of the fight:

He lifts his sword, and with repeated blow,

As peasants through a field of barley mow,

He lays the Gauls in heaps, in sanguin’d overthrow!

This saw our troops, and quick from man to man,

(As trains of powder blaze,) an ardour ran!

Grown greatly emulous, (with fixed thought,)

Each like a Hector, or Achilles fought!

   BOTH Anstruthers, and Scots, with mutual wrath,

In Frenchmen’s bodies oft, their broad swords sheath,

An onward tread, amid refulgent death.

Where’er they turn’d, a transient brightness gleam’d;

Which like th’Aurora Borealis seem’d.

   MEAN while, each diff’rent corps for fight addrest:

With fixed bayonets, to stand the test:

As bolts, and lightnings, rive the knotted oak,

Thro’ thick throng’d ranks of charging Frechmen broke!

As they grew warm, the Frenchmen’s hearts grew cold,

Platoons of soldiers o’er the leaders roll’d! [page 90]

Before the British charge, (with Gallic dread,)

Cohorts receding, tumbled o’er the dead.

In heaps battalions throng’d, with souls transfix’d;

The fighting, wounded, dying, dead, were mix’d!

And as in whirlwinds, on Arabia’s coast,

(Amid surprize!) whole caravans are lost;

So these born down before the British might,

(Involv’d in fear,) their safety fought in flight.

   NOW Montcalm flees amidst a total rout;

(Canadians yell, and conq’ring Britons shout,

And spread tumultuous terror round about.)

He thought, (like floods, when swoln by heavy show’rs,)

Begirt with Gauls, and black Canadain pow’rs,

To sweep triumphant o’er the savage plains;

Gave Indian rage, and cruelty the reins.

The mighty pond’rous task, he could not wield;

Nor cou’d Quebec from Albion’s thunder shield:

Britannia’s warriors flung him vanquish’d down,

And chac’d his troops disorder’d to the town.

Th’artill’ry roar’d upon their broken rear;

Urg’d on their flight, and added wings to fear.

The gallant Williamson * forgets his age,

Deserts his corps, and full of martial rage,

(With youthful vigour flushing in his face,)

He joins the sons of Scotland in the chace.

   * This old gentleman commanded the artillery, on the plain of Abraham that day; and when the French began to retreat, he deserted his corps, clapp’d on his spectacles, and with his fusee join’d the Anthrusters and Highlanders in the chace, with all the sprightliness of youthful vigour.

[page 91]

Oh wond’rous war! oh glorious thirst of fame!

Which giv’st old age, youth’s animating flame!

   BOUGAINVILLE’S * corps, now threaten’d in the rear,

Fresh troops, with formidable front appear;

As if they wou’d the nice occasion catch,

And from our troops, their infant vict’ry snatch.

To take their charge, and their design to mar,

Ours fac’d about, and met the coming war:

With efforts weak, they faintly stood the test;

Soon wheel’d, retir’d, and ran to join the rest.

   OUR angry warriors, throng’d towards the town;

’Midst flame, and blood, and groans, trod Frenchmen down:

Quite to the ditch, beneath Quebec’s strong walls,

They chac’d, ran down, and kill’d the trembling Gauls.

The town submitted, struck with dread surprize;

Aloft the cross, the British ensign flies:

There may it fly, there British cannon roar,

Till wolves leave prey, and Gauls deceive no more.

   * M. De Bougainville, whom the feign’d movements of the English troops, had drawn up the river, turn’d back, on discovering their real design; and now appear’d in the rear of the army, with a body of two thousand men. But fortunately, the main body of the French, was by his time so broken, and dispers’d, that the General was able to establish his rear, and to turn such an opposition on that side, that the enemy retir’d, after a very feeble attempt.

[page 92]





Siege of QUEBEC.

   ON that great day, Wolfe’s warring spirit fled,

And Monckton, for his King, and country bled;

When conq’ring Townshend chac’d the flying Gauls;

And terror shook Quebec’s exalted walls:

Whilst leading fiercely on, to toilsome fight,

Cohorts of heroes ’gainst unequal might,

A brave old man judicious Townshend ey’d,

Mark’d how his sword with Gallic crimson dy’d,

Rose like a comet * with his flaming train!

And glar’d destruction wide o’er Abra’m’s plain!

How oft alternate * rose! how oft it set!

And setting, fell’d a Frenchman * at his feet!

   * * * * * In the battle, before the town of Quebec; we had an account, of Malcolm Macpherson, a brave old Highlander, whom General Townshend observ’d, (after the Generals,

[page 93]

Saw him behind the heaps of slain retire,

To breath a while *, and with collected ire,

Saw him again, address himself to fight,

Hew, * and tread down! and put the foe to flight!

He smil’d, o’erjoy’d! to see th’ old man advance

Amid the carnage of deceitful France.

With pleasing horror! view’d the heaps of dead,

Around the worthy Caledonian spread;

Conceiv’d him straight the terror of the day,

Design’d by fate to glut grim death with prey.

   THE battle o’er, our troops return’d from chace;

Townshend demands his age, his name, and place.

Wolfe, and Monckton, were carried out of the line,) laying about him with uncommon fury; and likewise, tho’ he so often lifted his sword, he scarce dealt a blow in vain: but at every stroke, he fell’d a Frenchman at his feet! the account further says, that General Townshend mark’d, when he retir’d behind the heaps of slain, (laid dead by his own hand,) to breathe a while, as if glutted with destruction! and satiated with slaughter! and saw him pull off his coat, or jacket, and with an heroic ardour, glowing anew, (like an active flame, which had just overcome all opposition,) hew his way thro’ thick throng’d obstructing ranks of Frenchmen! bearing down, or putting to flight, whoe’er came within the semi-zone, form’d by his tremendous sword! After the battle, General Townshend ask’d his name, age, and place of abode, or country. He answer’d, his name was Macpherson: came from the Highlands of Scotland, and his age was seventy-two. The sword he then fought with, had been in the family about three hundred years: he esteem’d it almost as his life; and seem’d exceedingly alert! and well pleas’d! that he had us’d it on that memorable day, so well, against the enemies of Caledonia!

[page 94]

Stern he reply’d Macpherson is my name;

From Scotia’s hills, a volunteer I came.

Years, seventy-two, their influence have shed,

And roll’d successive, o’er my hoary head,

This sword I wield, now stain’d with hostile gore,

For near three hundred years my fathers wore;

Good northern temper’d steel, trusty blade,

With which my ancestors great havoc made:

This I hold dear! this as my life I prize!

(And terror glanc’d from both the warrior’s eyes.)

With his sword arm’d, both them, and I oppose

The fraudful French, and Caledonia’s foes.

This Royal GEORGE from Townshend quickly knew;

Who gave the brave old hero all his due;

Our martial King bestows on him regard,

Gives Royal favour, and a great reward:

Applauding crowds, with joy! his worth proclaim!

And grateful Britain echoes back his fame.

GALLIA, no more we’ll threat with hostile frown,

For GEORGE’S smiles can pull her grandeur down.

Approving Majesty her schemes can marr,

And rouze our troops, to glory and to war:

Whilst with the Royal smile their labour’s crown’d,

In each platoon some heroes will be found.

End of BOOK III.

[page 95]



CONFLANS sails from Brest, to invade England. Chaces Commodore Duff’s squandron. The Chatham, Captain Lockhart, astern of the fleet, near being taken. His anxiety during the chace: but on seeing Admiral Hawke’s fleet, tacks upon the chacing enemy, (who stagger’d in their resolutions,) and begins the chace himself. Admiral Hawke, bearing down into the center of the French fleet, sinking the Superbe, and attacking Admiral Conflans; who flies, and runs on shore.

   Captain Speke, in the Resolution, attacking, and taking the Formidable, the French Rear Admiral.

   Lord Howe, in the Magnanime, attacking, overpowering, and driving on shore the Heros.

   The Honourable Augustus Keppel, in the Torbay, attacking, and sinking the Thesee.

   Captain Baird, in the Defiance.

   Captain Shirley, in the Kingston. [page 96]

   Captain Maplesden, in the Intrepid.

   Sir John Bentley, in the Warspight.

   Captain Storr, in the Revenge.

   Captain Rowley, in the Montague.

   Captain Gambier, in the Burford.

   Captain Dennis, in the Dorsetshire. And

   Captain Obrien, in the Essex. All bearing down to Admiral Hawke’s assistance, and engaging.

   The anxiety of the rest of the captains astern, who could not possibly come into the engagement; crowding sail, and driving down to battle! The rout! dispersion! and flight, of the French fleet, on shore, up the river Villaine, &c. Great Britain’s joy! and Gallia in tears! as the consequence of the engagement.


[page 97]






[illustration: G]ALLIA’S ill fate, still mightily prevails;

See, next from Brest, invading Conflans sails;

Of conquest dreams, and England over-run;

Like Phæton, mounts the Chariot * of the Sun *:

Like him, (triumphant,) wrapp’d in Gallic blaze,

He thought to drown Great Britain in amaze!

But met Hawke’s glance, and retrograde retir’d,

And Ignis fatuus like, his flame expir’d.

   * * Le Soleil Royal, in English, the Royal Sun. And in Ovid’s Metamorphosis, we have Phæton driving the chariot of the Sun, and dash’d from the feat by Jupiter.

[unnumbered page]

(This Lewis, suits thy schemes on Britain’s shore,

Thyself, thy leaders led by Pompadour.)

When first from Brest, the threat’ning Conflans sail’d,

(In naval war,) he seemingly prevail’d,

He crowded * after Duff †, with eager chace,

Which train’d him on to Hawke, and French disgrace.

   * It is a common term at sea; when ships are in full chace, and make what sail they can, that they crowded after one another, with all the sail they could pack.

   † When Admiral Hawke, with the British fleet, first came in sight of Monsieur Conflans, and the French fleet; he was in full chace of Commodore Duff, and his little squadron of Frigates, &c. with the Chatham, Captain Lockhart, among them. The Chatham was astern of our fleet, and very near the enemy, and consequently, not making that speed off, the frigates, and the rest of the fleet did, he must soon have fallen into the hands of the enemy; without some friendly assistance from larger ships, with heavier metal, than what Duff’s squadron carried; and which in that circumstance, he could scarce flatter himself should arrive so soon, (and even unexpectedly,) as it did, to England’s, and his great joy! brave Hawke’s honour! and those bold commanders which were with him! and to the great loss, and infamy of Conflans, and the Gallic nation! for had not Admiral Hawke arrived to his assistance, the most romantic person living, (with the least shew of reason,) could not have expected Captain Lockhart, to have begun a desperate, (and I may say hopeless) engagement, with the first ship that should have come up with him; when there were twenty one sail of line of battle ships, bearing down upon him with three Admirals. But so soon as Admiral Hawke, and the English fleet appear’d, he tack’d immediately, on the headmost ships of the chacing enemy; singled out the Heros, which had

[page 99]

Lockhart, who oft had wond’rous odds oppos’d,

Now deigns to flee by hostile odds inclos’d.

In iron wombs th’ unequal drew near;

Reason suggests his flight, but not his fear.

Had Conflans’ self, the Chatham chac’d alone,

Let Britons judge what Lockhart wou’d have done;

Perhaps that day such deeds had been atchiev’d,

England might boast; tho’ France, and Britain griev’d.

But now he flees, yet with a sullen frown,

He ey’d the fleet, to battle bearing down;

Oft he resolv’d to fight, with wonted glow;

As oft resolv’d to flee before the foe:

Reason, and courage, fill’d him with regret!

“Like wind, and tide, in raging conflict met!”

   SO flees the lion’s cub towards the den,

From deep mouth’d dogs, and troops of armed men:

Promiscuous cries, and shouts, his ears assail;

Against his mighty sides, he swings his tail;

Indignant growls, collected turns to fight;

Again recedes, and makes a tardy flight.

But now the fire comes roaring thro’ the plain,

He turns, attack the formost of the train;

(Wrath fills his eyes, aloft his tail is rear’d,)

So when to view Great Britain’s fleet appear’d;

been a little shatter’d by some of our ships, as they pass’d and gave her two broadsides, e’er she struck to the Magnanime, Lord Howe, who bore down to close engagement with her; and whom she struck, but afterwards went on shore.

[page 100]

Lockhart, with wonted rage, and fierce delight!

Mark’d out the Gallic Hero for the fight!

Stung with disdain to flee, tho’ fleets gave chace;

He long’d to wipe away the late disgrace;

To battle tack’d upon the chacing Gauls;

And sent in thund’ring show’rs his dashing balls:

Gave iron proof, urg’d home, made the French Hero see,

’Twas mighty odds mov’d his intrepid soul to flee.

   NO sooner Hawke saluted Conflans’ sight,

His slacken’d sails hung shiv’ring † in affright:

Like their commander’s, every ship appear’d;

And flutt’ring † sails slapp’d out, what Frenchmen fear’d:

   † † Whoever has been on the sea, doubtless hath observed, that when a ship luffs up, (as the sailors call it, that is braces about,) with her head to the wind, with an intent to lye by, (as they term it.) The topsails, and coursers, shiver in the wind, and slap against the masts, shrouds, &c. as the ship plunges, and rolls, for want of a proper headway trough water. So Conflans, and his fleet, when they hove too; the ships might be said to express their terror; on account of agitation of their hulls, and the tremor, and shivering of their sails: (as trembling, is generally allow’d to be a true sign of fear.) And they might be said to be in fear, on another account; for it was observ’d, that they drew into a sort of disorder’d line, and seem’d quite confus’d! like a man on the brink of an impending precipice, below which the rugged rocks rise in dreadful spires, and he condemned to plunge precipitate

[page 101]

The chace of Duff, they seemingly repine,

And disconcerted, drew into a line:

They seem’d to see their rout, and overthrow,

Whilst waiting for the formidable foe;

Who plung’d promiscuous on, with naval rage,

As if ambitious who shou’d first engage.

   SO when the vulture chaces thro’ the air,

A young fledg’d eaglet, (yet the mother’s care;)

The tow’ring bird, (imperial,) from the skies,

On sounding pinions to his rescue flies,

In dread, the vulture slacks the rapid chace,

Flutters, and hovers still around the place

Receives the shock dismay’d, and in affright,

From chacing, spreads his wings in shameful flight.

   TH’ opposing fleets, now near each other glide;

And load with future death the briny tide;

from thence. So Conflans, and his fleet, by their behaviour, seem’d to fluctuate in their intentions; as if afraid to fight! asham’d to run! and dreading the consequence of an equal number of line of battle ships, bearing down upon them! mann’d with Englishmen! and arm’d with engines, whose wombs were pregnant with flaming roar! with iron, and with leaden death! ready to burst from every crush their navy in oblivion! and I think the event fully declar’d what their intentions were, by their behaviour, when the battle began; the greatest part of them running away like a terrify’d brood of chickens, from a hawk, which souses near them, and scarce staying even to fight their way; but made what speed they could on shore, up the Villaine, &c.

[page 102]

So high in air, the gath’ring tempest flies,

In pitchy clouds, (which at a distance rise;)

Nearer they roll, a gloomy concave form;

Together clash, down comes the rattling storm:

Now wakes the roar, and on the tempest rolls,

The bolts and light’nings fly, the thunder growls:

So cannons roar, in clouds the ships are hid;

And French, and British tars, alternate bleed.

Round and grape shot, and barr’d make dreadful wreck;

Sails, topmasts, men, and blocks, bestrew the deck:

Guns are dismounted, limbs from bodies tore,

Whilst thro’ both sides, the rapid bullets bore;

Wide gaps they rend, as thro’ the ships they pass;

And shrouds, * and stays*, hang dangling by the mast.

The human blood in crimson torrents flows,

With fiercer rage each naval warrior glows;

They shout, and load, and for the vict’ry burn,

Broadsides receive, and show’rs of balls return.

   * * The shrouds, are several ropes, fasten’d at the mast head, and come down to the larboard and starboard side; there fasten’d to the chain plates, to support the mast, in the rolling of the ship, and when they carry sail, and to these the ratttlings are fixed, to go to the mast-head by. The stays are much for the same use, only they come down to the side, &c, on a slant, and are design’d to preserve the mast in its position, when the ship bounds over the waves, or plunges with a sudden jerk from the summit of a wat’ry hill, that it may not fall aft, or pitch forward over the ship’s head.

[page 103]

   AS thund’ring Jove, the wrathful bolts prepar’d;

And wrapp’d in flame, the veng’ance high uprear’d;

With roar impetuous, down the storm he hurl’d

’Gainst Phæton, driving round the burning world.

Unerring roll’d the great ӕthereal war,

And dash’d him from Apollo’s flaming car.

So Hawke bore down, amid the Gallic fleet,

And Conflans sought with like assault to greet;

Larboard, * and starboard, * ev’ry foe repell’d:

But still, the pond’rous war, for Conflans held;

O’er French Magnificence † victorious drove,

Which in a frustrate opposition strove:

This Conflans saw, and seem’d on battle bent;

And ’gainst the Royal George, a broadside sent:

Who pour’d his torrents fierce, of flame, and balls,

Struck Conflans mute, (and terrify’d the Gauls.)

As Phæton drown’d his blaze, ‡ let drop the reins,

And madly drove along the ætereal plains,

   * * It is the sea term, for the right and left side of the ship.

   † Le Superbe, a French seventy-four gun ship, which bore down bravely between the Royal George, and Le Soleil Royal, to oppose Admiral Hawke, who struck her on a careen the first broadside, and the second broadside sunk her. The name in English is Magnificent, or Magnificence.

   ‡ ‡ ‡ The poets say, Phæton being told by his mother, he was the son of Phœbus, (that is, Apollo,) who drives the radiant car of day: he went to the temple of the sun, and being own’d by his father, who swore by Styx, to grant his

[page 104]

The mighty whirl oppres’d his soul with fear;

He sat appall’d, ‡ amid the wild career;

No longer now, the foaming steeds confines,

’Twixt Leo, Ursa, and the Scorpion ‡ signs:

He fear’d t’advance, wou’d backward fain retreat;

And quit Apollo’s car, and flaming feat.

So Conflans, from the bay wou’d absent be:

From Hardy, Howe, and frowning Hawke wou’d flee.

request; he demanded to drive the chariot of the Sun for a day. Phœbus knowing the great, (and certain) danger of the enterprize, long time dissuaded him from it: but the adventrous youth, (fir’d by an emulation for glory, and ambitious notions of honour,) vaulted into the seat, after much pre-admonition from his father, who griev’d at the consequence. He drove on, the horses soon found their new master, (or rather new driver,) by the unskilful guidance of the rein, and the chariot wanting its proper poize. They grew headstrong, and hurried him through the cœlestial regions: now with a rapid flight, descending near the earth; again, bounding aloft, they whirl’d him through the immense space of Æther! then starting aside, to right and left, plung’d among the constellations! he dropp’d the reins, and sat appall’d, amidst the career! was afraid to advance, and could not retreat: but grew terrify’d, amidst the frightful monsters of the skies! and a new panic assail’d his heart as the chariot of the Sun approach’d the Scorpion, and when (with the intense heat) he saw him sweat in his poison! The consequence of all this is, the heavens are drained of all their moisture; the earth is parch’d; the sea boils to its bed: and all nature lies gasping in one universal calenture! at length, Jove lifted the avenging bolt; and with unerring aim, sent it wing’d with lightning, and dash’d him from Apollo’s car!

[page 105]

Backward he drove, while pannic fears prevail,

And left the chariot of the bright Soleil: *

Shun’d the loud storm, ‘midst which brave Hawke career’d!

The British bolts, and English light’nings fear’d!

To Gallia’s shore, and certain shipwreck, steer’d!

Each sternmost ship, to closer action glides;

And bellows death, from fulminating sides.

Rouz’d to see Hawke, midst dangers, smoak, and flame,

They crowded sail, and to the battle came.

As hungry lions, (when they rouze t’engage,)

With lashing tails, will work themselves to rage;

So these, to patriot wrath, their souls had wrought;

For board, and board, seem’d ev’ry warrior’s thought.

   THE gallant Speke, † with resolution † arm’d;

True Briton like, for great atchievements warm’d;

Down from the staff the waving banner tore;

And silenc’d all the Formidable’s † roar:

   * When Admiral Hawke had sunk the Superbe, he bore down upon Conflans, who stood one broadside, and ran, making a signal for all the fleet to do the like; and at last, rather than fight Amiral Hawke, he drove on shore, and his ship was burnt; after being quitted by Conflans and his crew.

   † † † Captain Speke, commanded his Majesty’s ship, Resolution; engag’d the Formidable; the French rear Admiral, and took him, after a desperate cannonading.

[page 106]

And Howe, * magnanimous! * with courage stor’d,

Bore down, and clapp’d the Heros close on board;

Who struck, o’erpowr’d, no longer dar’d t’engage;

While Thesee † sunk, beneath brave Keppel’s rage.

Baird, ‡ for renown, most resolutely strove,

And thro’ the line, with bold Defiance ‡ drove:

Two line of battle ships, (with hostile roar)

Down on his ship, to close engagement bore:

Their joint attack, he bravely scorn’d to shun,

But gave ’em roar, for roar, and gun for gun.

   INTREPID || Maplesden, || and Bentley || bold,

Thro’ the French line, ’midst gloomy veng’ance roll’d;

Whilst Rowley, § Gambier, § Dennis, § onward croud,

Like Jove’s artill’ry in a thunder cloud,

And brave Obrien § join’d the concert loud.

   * * Lord Howe, in his Majesty’s ship Magnanime, engaged the Heros, board and board, which in little odds of half an hour, did so much execution, that she struck; but afterwards drove on shore.

   † The honourable Augustus Keppel, in the Torbay, engag’d the Thesee, and sunk her the second broadside.

   ‡ ‡ Captain Baird, commanded the ship Defiance, and engag’d.

   || || || Captain Maplesden, commanded the ship Intrepid, and engag’d. Sir John Bentley, in the Warspight, likewise engag’d.

   § § § Captain Rowley, in the Montague; Captain Gambier, in the Burford; Captain Dennis, in the Dorsetshire;

[page 107]

Dennis, to fight a single ship disdain’d,

As if from thence no glory cou’d be gain’d:

From ship, to ship, in haste, he fiercely sped;

Still chac’d the headmost as the Frenchmen fled:

Bear me down close, at length, he raptur’d cries,

’Tis Britain’s cause! and glory is the prize!

Whilst Howe, transported calls, my naval sons!

Reserve your fire until you grasp their guns!

Then only like yourselves, shall you engage,

And give the reins to long restrained rage.

Shirley, * as bravely join’d the warlike throng,

And hurl’d destruction as he plung’d along,

With England’s dread Revenge, † Storr † fiercely came,

And roar’d out Frenchmen’s fate, in British flame.

Resolv’d they fought, by Hawke’s example fir’d;

And Gallia’s fleet confusedly retir’d;

Whilst some in tardy blaze consume away,

And add new horrors to the dreadful fray.

Here lower masts are tumbled o’er the side,

There ships descend amid the briny tide,

and Captain Obrien, in the Essex; all likewise engag’d. And here I should have mention’d Captain Campbell: but as I have mention’d Admiral Hawke, in the Royal George; and as it well known Mr. Campbell is Captain of the Royal George, it may be taken for granted,

Captain Campbell was in the midst of danger, and in the very center of the engagement.

   * Captain Shirley commanded the Kingston, and engag’d.

   † † Captain Storr commanded the Revenge, and engag’d.

[page 108]

Which all their flame, and harmless thunder drown’d;

Whilst Hawke, and Briton’s shout, with conquest crown’d.

Those, whom ill fortune fromt the fight detain’d,

With visible regret, astern remain’d.

For war they burn’d, with warring hearts elate,

But mortals cannot guide the hand of fate:

Altho’ their souls the ships anticipate.

When stern Achilles, (with remorseless mind;)

The field * of fame, the toils of war * declin’d,

Between the rampart, and the swelling flood,

The fretful Myrmidonian leaders stood.

Oft as they heard the animating shout,

Oft as they saw the Grecians put to rout,

   * * In the sixteenth book of Homer’s Iliad, we have Achilles, speeding from tent to tent, and warming the hearts of the Myrmidonian leaders, just going to battle, (to save the Grecian fleet,) under the conduct of Patroclus; and we have them, and the troops represented, as standing round their Chief. A grim, terrific, formidable band! like voracious wolves, rushing a hideous throng, to slake their thirst, after a glut of slaughter! and present a deathful view! and we may judge of their uneasiness, and regret, at being detain’d from the battle, by the expressions which Achilles uses to them; calling them far fam’d! fierce! and brave Myrmidons! tells them to think with what threats they dar’d the Trojans! and what reproach his ears had so long endur’d! calling him stern son of Peleus! whose rage defrauded them of so fam’d a field! &c. and adds, lo! there the Trojans! this day shall give you all your souls demand! &c.

[page 109]

As oft their mighty souls were in a glow,

To rush all clad with death, upon the chacing foe.

   SO these croud on, vex’d with heroic rage,

To see their friends, and countrymen engage:

At each broadside they glow’d with fiercer flame,

To reap the harvest of immortal fame.

For desp’rate battle ev’ry bosom burn’d,

The tardy progress of the vessels mourn’d.

The topmasts bend, sails split, and halliards break,

The dormant thunder on each well clear’d deck,

In hollow tubes from ev’ry yawning side,

Portended dreadful, o’er the swelling tide.

Each British tar, well pleas’d, to quarters stood,

(And ponder’d on the future scene of blood,)

As on they labour’d thro’ the briny flood.

No discontented tar like hints we hear,

As if they lagg’d, inspir’d by grov’ling fear:

No lack of courage to their charge is laid;

They caught each blast; each useful sail was spread:

Full on the Gallic line, resolv’d they steer’d;

Who tack’d, made sail, the close engagement fear’d!

   EACH brave commander martial zeal exprest,

And long’d to bring this honour to the test:

Seem’d anxious some resolved foe to meet,

But night came on, and sav’d the Gallic fleet.

Against the yielding foe, our tars complain’d;

And slighted conquest easily obtain’d. [page 110]

Each man was full of strong delib’rate rage,

And hop’d the French wou’d sturdily engage;

Shot, stores, and guns, they sunk amid the main!

And fled for safety to the shoal Villaine!

Britain rejoic’d! persidious Gallia moun’d!

Her royal navy, taken, sunk, or burn’d!

Her cities, forts, isles, towns, and all her schemes o’erturn’d!

End of BOOK IV.


[page 111]


BRITANNIA represented, clad in terrors! and leaning on Pitt; (like Achilles, reclin’d on his spear, after the carnage he had made among the Trojans, in revenge for the death of Patroclus.) A recapitulation of Great Britain’s victories, both by sea and land, the French terror! Thurot rushing forth to war against the English, (like a tyger, to hunt his prey, without his teeth and claws.) His landing on the Irish coast. Taking Carrickfergus, and laying Belfast under contribution. The Hibernian zeal, and bravery of the few troops there; rending the battlements of the castle of Carrickfergus, and flinging stones on the enemy for some time, after all their ammunition was spent! the consternation of the French at their intrepidity! their sullen submission; (like our gallant troops at Cas.) The French retreat, and reimbarkation. Their joy damp’d (like the Amalekites, who spoil’d Ziklag,) when the Captains Elliott, Clements, and Logie, in the Æolus, Brilliant and Pallas, bore down to engage. The fight, and Thurot’s death; with the French submission. An address to Lewis, with a recital of the gallantry of our matchless tars, and intrepid troops! a few similes on GEORGE the second; like eagle mounted Jove, directing the thunder against Gaul, &c. &c. &c. [page 112]






[illustration: B]RITANNIA, (long for seats of arms renown’d,)

In terrors clad! with num’rous vict’ries crwon’d!

Leaning on Pitt, as if to breathe awhile;

She stood, and cast a fierce indignant smile!

Like great Achilles, on his spear reclin’d,

The war revolving in his martial mind;

Most greatly pleas’d, ’twixt rage and stern disdain,

He smiling, frown’d, across the Phrygian plain,

O’er slaughter’d heaps of Trojans by him slain.

So stood Britannia pleas’d, serene, sedate;

Compleatly arm’d, victoriously elate. [unnumbered page]

Her dreadful shores appear’d one hallow’d bound;

Her horse, and foot, rang’d on her frontier ground:

Her navy girded her with terrors round.

At distance stood, (as thunderstruck!) the Gaul;

Amid Quebec’s and Louisbourg’s downfall:

Goree, and Guadaloup, in ruin lay:

And Senegal had felt the like dismay.

Their fleets could not our fleets attack sustain;

Some at Lagos, some founder’d at Villaines;

Some burnt, some sunk, amid the swelling main.

A pannic dread, prevail’d at land, and sea;

They struck, or fled in swift affright away,

As doves from Jove’s imperial bird of prey.

They turn’d their backs, (as wonted) to the chace:

All fear’d, at least few dar’d to shew their face.

Till Thurot rose (to hide the Gallic shame;)

And rashly fir’d, sail’d forth to gain a name:

And like a tyger from his lurking den,

Rush’d on, supported by a thousand men:

But in such plight to back his daring cause,

He seem’d to hunt his prey, without his teeth and claws!

Of this, (perhaps,) the Gaul will proudly boast;

He landed on Hibernia’s naked coast!

So peasants may the lion’s den assail,

And boast from thence the new whelp’d cubs they steal;

Whilst both old lions thro’ the forest roam,

And search for prey, far distant from their home. [page 114]

But shou’d loud roar bespeak the lions near,

As if their final knell had pierc’d their ear,

They steal, (nay fly) away, absorb’d in speechless fear!

   THIS place, Thurot almost defenceless found,

And boldly dar’d to tread Hibernian ground:

At Carrickfergus, he a plunder made,

And Belfast under contribution laid:

Not till th’ Hibernians had their power spent,

And from the base their mural hopes had rent!

With native zeal! and patriotic glow!

They flung the ramparts * on the charging foe!

Forgetting they expos’d themselves unarm’d;

So much the battle had their bosoms warm’d.

So rush’d unarm’d, the Spartan † from the bath,

Seiz’d on his spear, and full of martial wrath,

   * * When those who landed from Thurot’s squadron, attack’d Carrickfergus, the few soldiers, we had there, with an heroic zeal, and with a bloody toil, made them dearly buy their victory! for when all their ammunition was spent, they flung the stones off the ramparts on the advancing enemies! and held them in play for some time, as if they had forgotten the rapid execution of powder ball; and that whilst they demolish’d the battlements, they left themselves more expos’d to the enemy’s shot!

   † † This was a Spartan warrior; who one day, happened to be bathing in a city besieg’d; when the enemy rushing suddenly, and furiously on, had like to have enter’d triumphantly: and on hearing the alarm of war, and that the city was like to be carried by a general assault, he leap’d from the bath, laid hold of his spear, and plung’d among

[page 115]

He plung’d amidst the thickest ranks of foes,

Who thought some God had dealt destructive blows!

They stood amaz’d! † or join’d the tim’rous rout;

Whilst he spread death, and terrors round about!

As stood at gaze, the halting * half scarc’d Gauls!

’Midst dashing show’rs of Carrickfergus’ walls!

From engines, mortars, slings, nor cannon flung!

But from Hibernian nerves, for warlike action strung!

Thus in a thick desceding stony show’r!

They fought ’gainst numbers, and superior pow’r;

The charging shocks, themselves, like ramparts bore,

Till they cou’d rend the stubborn walls no more:

the charging enemy; and dealt his vengeance amongst the thickest ranks; who seeing him take such deathful strides! naked, and unarm’d! inclos’d by a brazen, iron, and steely war! superstitiously thought some deity had assum’d a human shape, to sling destruction through their cohorts! and turn the sway of battle! they stood transfix’d, with a religious awe! fell unresisting, beneath his oft transpiercing spear! or join’d the general rout, as he strode to different parts of the field, and chang’d the scene of action!

   * When the French found themselves so resolutely opposed, by our handful of men at Carrickfergus, after all their ammunition was spent; they halted in a fort of a half scar’d gaze, as if in suspence, whether they should advance, stand the charge of those few brave men, or make a shameful retreat: and doubtless, one or two rounds more of Hibernian rhetorick, would have rais’d their pannic to such a height, as to have confirm’d them in an instant resolve, and have made them retire in confusion!

[page 116]

Then like the troops at Cas, they sullen frown’d,

And flung their useless muskets on the ground:

Not till like them, they’d well the fight sustain’d,

And from the victors, almost vict’ry gain’d!

   THE news no sooner reach’d our half starv’d foes,

Our freeborn troopers, and brave militia rose,

Than like a herd of deers with timid mind,

And hungry wolves in close pursuit behind;

From Ireland’s shores they fled in haste away,

Quick reimbark’d, and weigh’d, and put to sea;

And thought (o’erjoy’d) to make their native shore;

With conquest flush’d, and fed with English store:

But Thurot first must fall, and hundreds more.

So once Amalekites, weak Ziklag spoil’d;

But David’s breast with manly ardour boil’d!

He chac’d, and fought, and kill’d, retook the prey,

Their triumph damp’d in death, and cold dismay.

   NOW * Clements, * Logie, * Elliot, brave, bore down,

To meet Thurot with formidable frown:

With wonted rage, like England’s naval sons,

They fought, huzza’d, and ply’d Britannia’s guns,

Stern Æolus † began the rought attack;

And flung (untrimm’d,) their bloated sails aback.

   * * * The three captains, of the Æolus, Brilliant, and Pallas, which engag’d the Belleisle, Terpsichore, and Le Blond, Monsieur Thurot’s squadron.

   † The ship Æolus, and Æolus is the god of the winds.

[page 117]

Onward he came, in a most direful form,

And roar’d tremendous! in a sulph’rous storm!

In Brilliant * trim, war’s mighty goddess † frown’d!

She roar’d in flame! and death was in the sound!

Elliott, and Clements, and Logie, grew warm;

And near Thurot, they roll’d the loud alarm.

(Thurot ‡, whom (tho’ a foe,) we scarcely blame,

Who bears a gen’rous, malike warrior’s name!

To closer fight they eagerly advance,

Rive the French ships, and check the pride of France.

The fight grew hot, thick flew the British balls;

And death flew fore and aft, among the Gauls:

The gen’rous, brave Thurot, became his prey!

And terror fill’d the French with dread dismay;

As twice of late, when Boscawen, and Hawke,

Midst fulminating tars, and clouds of sulph’rous smoke,

To Conflans, and De Clue, in British thunder spoke!

   * The ship Brilliant, one of the three, which engag’d Monsieur Thurot’s squadron.

   † The ship Pallas, who, with the Æolus and Brilliant, engag’d Thurot’s squadron. Pallas is the goddess of war.

   ‡ Monsieur Thurot, seem’d to have gain’d a universal esteem, and admiration, from all who knew, or ever heard of him; and I have heard several which had been taken by him, speak of him as a generous, and benevolent benefactor, rough, and fearless in battle; but the courteous, and conquering enemy, whose soul was incapable of groveling prejudice.

[page 118]

Their guns grew mute, they all for quarter call’d,

And down (in fear,) the Gallic ensigns haul’d.

Again they come, and tread our fatal coast,

Dejected, main’d! and all their plunder lost.

   LEWIS! be warn’d, and send thy men no more,

To tread Hibernia’s, or Britannia’s shore.

Whilst Hawke, Boscawen, Holmes, and Saunders, raom

Abroad for fame; and Pitt commands at home!

Whilst England owns so many gallant tars;

And brave commanders for the naval wars:

Whilst Scotchmen can their dreaded broad swords wield,

With English, and Hibernians, take the field,

Who with their leaders brave, at danger smile;

Firm leagu’d like troops of death, to guard our isle!

Whilst Britons serve great GEORGE, with filial fear,

Who with his Son, and brave old Ligonier,

At Dettingen, like lions fierce in fight,

Routed main corps, and put gens d’armes to flight:

Whilst King, and Peers, and Council, hand in hand,

Back’d by the body of the nation stand;

Resolv’d to save, wives, children, lands, and laws;

And Heav’n propitious, smiles upon the cause!

Thy men, as well may safely think to tread,

Nightly unarm’d, thro, Africa’s dread shade;

Where lions, tygers, pards, (fierce beasts of prey,)

Roar in the pass, and dam the dang’rous way, [page 119]

As e’er expect in France to make their boast,

We victors came from Britain’s dreaded coast!

   AS when the riving bolts are fiercely hurl’d

By Jupiter, to scourge the rebel world;

From strong Olympus’ height, the thunder growls,

And wrapp’d in flame æthereal, onward rolls:

Like eagel mounted Jove, in awful form,

GEORGE against Gaul directs the thund’ring storm.

East, west, north, south, with rapid speed he flies,

The Lords, and Commons, venerable wife,

May well be call’d his eagle’s watchful eyes.

His body, neck, and mighty sweeping tail,

The triple union, Britain’s common weal.

To His strong pinions, we may well compare

The honest Pitt! and brave old Ligonier!

The tars, and troops, His talons may be call’d,

By whose strong gripe proud Gallia’s sides are gall’d!

As with his bill he seizes tim’rous hares,

Crushes their bones, and them in pieces tears,

Brave Hawke, and Boscawen, in pieces break

The Gallic fleets, and may be call’d His beak!

End of BOOK V.

[page 120]



THE French in Canada, (like a man wash’d from a wreck at sea, and striving to gain the shore:) emerging from the wreck of fifty-nine, as if resolv’d on conquest: and to perform something greatly memorable. Their armament in the spring of sixty, and march towards Quebec; join’d by the savage people in league with them. General Murray, with our other heroic commanders, and troops, rouzing to battle. The disposition of our troops, and by whom headed. The closing of the battle. Major Dalling’s behaviour. Him and his officers wounded, and his men rushing on without them, driving the enemy, first broken, to their main corps, and after, to the rear of their amry. The French attack on our right. Captain Ince distinguish’d, with Otway’s, and the French twice bravely sustain’d, and repuls’d! the left dispossess the enemy from two redoubts. The reserve brought into action. Rousillon’s regiment marching up, and penetrating. [page 121] General Murray’s retreat. Due distance kept by the French. The friendly, (daring) action of an Irish serjeant of Bragg’s, left wounded on the field of battle, to preserve an English volunteer from being scalp’d by six Indians. He kills three, and the other three flee. A French officer endu’d with humanity; defends him from the other savages; and that they may not kill them as they thraten’d, he fends both into Quebec. The French attack Quebec, but in vain. The gallant defence made by our troops. The arrival of Commodore Swanton, and the Captains, Schomberg, and Dean. Their attack of the French frigates above the town, and destroying them. The French desert their trenches, and leave ammunition, baggage, field pieces, mortars, tools, &c. &c. &c. A savage nation joins in league with Great Britain. The fall of Montreal. The goodness of Providence displayed to Great Britain, and its colonies. Animadversions on GEORGE the Second. His wars, victories, and death; and the sorrow it occasion’d. A re-numeration of his humane qualities, and royal worth. The sorrow for his death, dissipated, by the pleasing reflection of being possess’d of GEORGE the Third; ascending the throne of his much-lov’d Grandfather: possess’d of all his royal virtues, and amiable qualities. [page 122]






[illustration: N]OW like a man fatigu’d, and wanting breath,

Wash’d from a wreck, (incircled round with death 🙂

Who plunging on amid the surging roar;

Rais’d on a wave, beholds the welcome shore:

The land he views, (with eager longing eyes,)

With efforts strong, each nerve he nimply plies;

But soon depress’d beneath a boist’rous wave;

He slacks, despairs, and seeks a wat’ry grave.

So Gauls, emerging from the dreadful wreck

Of fifty-nine, advanc’d towards Quebec. [unnumbered page]

As if forgetting what they’d lately felt;

The veng’ance, Amherst, Wolfe, and Saunders dealt!

Resolved seem’d at first, the war to wage,

As if inspir’d with new heroic rage!

But recollecting Wolfe! and fifty-nine!

They soon grew cool, and quitted their design.

   THE spring arriv’d; the gath’ring troops of France,

With eager speed, towards Quebec advance.

And to the war, (from wild Canadia’s lands;)

They drew the fierce, the savage scalping bands.

Their near approach our garrison alarms;

And Murray, Fraser, Burton, rouz’d to arms,

Their arring zeal burst forth in flaming glow!

Midst piercing cold! midst chilling frost, and snow!

Active t’infatuate, and counteract the foe!

The brave Macdonald march’d the foe t’engage,

Who rescu’d Peyton * from Canadian rage:

The gallant Walsh rush’d forth, with gen’rous flame,

And dearly bought a well deserved fame.

With these, bold Ince, and Dalling sally’d forth;

Pleas’d with the war! and full of martial worth!

Fraser the brave, in war’s dread science skill’d,

Led Highland troops, and Townshend’s to the field.

   * Captain Macdonald, (a Scotch gentleman,) at the unsuccessful landing at Quebec, was the means of saving Mr. Peyton, (an Irish gentleman,) from about thirty Indians, marching down to scalp him, after the battle. See the British Magazine of Jan. 1760, and my Siege of Quebec.

[page 124]

Lascelles’s, and Kennedy’s, with Fraser came;

In quest of death, or else of deathless fame;

These the left wing compos’d, and gain’d a glorious name!

   THE daring Murray, (with a stern delight.)

His troops surveys, and ruminates the fight.

Alert they stood, with animating glow,

(To give the charge, and rush upon the foe;)

They numbers scorn’d, and onward march’d elate,

T’outface grim death! and ravish mighty fate!

Serenely brave, each soldier seem’d to know

’Tis courage aims, and strikes the conq’ring blow;

Quebec’s great conq’ror, Murray’s bosom fir’d,

And Wolfe, tho’ dead, each warrior’s soul inspir’d:

So from the flaming nest, old poets sing,

Another Phœnix stretches on the wing.

   NOW front, to front, they clos’d, the battle rag’d,

Where Dalling’s corps conspicuously engag’d.

Fiercely the French, the British charge sustain,

Till backward forc’d, (like chaff,) they spread the plain.

Onward the soldiers rush, (unaw’d by fear,)

And leave their wounded * leaders in the rear;

   * Here Major Dalling, and several of his officers were wounded; but his men rush’d on without them, and drove the enemy, they first attack’d, to the main corps, and afterwards to the rear. For a full account of this, and the

[page 125]

Chace as they flee, advance as they retire,

Charge their main corps, and take the gen’ral fire:

Again they rally, charge, again retreat

Back to the rear, and own the rout compleat.

   NOW on our right, their main corps made attack,

Attempted twice, and twice were driven back.

The great soul’d Murray, this strong truth will own,

There Otway’s fought, brave Ince distinguish’d shone:

Amherst’s, Americans, were there dispos’d;

With Anthruster’s, and Webb’s; these the right wing compos’d;

Stood firm as fate, (unshock’d,) when twice the battle clos’d!

   MEAN while the left with emulating glow,

From two redoubts they dispossess’d the foe:

Indians, Canadians, Regulars repel,

Victorious chac’d, or vanquish’d, bravely fell.

The * center, and reserves, their station chang’d;

Advanc’d and wheel’d, in diff’rent order rang’d.

whole battle. Vide General Murray’s letter to the Right Honourable Mr. Secretary Pitt, in the Extraordinary Gazette, which contains a perfect account of the whole action, according to the following lines.

   * N. B. About this time, the third battalion of Royal Americans, from the reserve, and Kennedy’s from the center, were brought up to the action. Vide Gen. Murray’s letter.

[page 126]

Our little army none inactive knew;

Each felt the shock as warm the battle grew:

Ten thousand French, by Savages sustain’d,

Three thousand Britons charg’d, and long the fight maintain’d!

   THUS like two scales, with equipond’rous weight,

Both parties toil’d to fix the doubtful fight.

The British troops, (to battle much inur’d)

Their oft repeated charges firm endur’d:

With minds resolv’d, call’d all their ardour forth;

And made the Frenchmen feel their warlike worth:

The wounded dropp’d, another straight appear’d,

Sent leaden fate, or else a broad sword rear’d.

   NOW Rousillon’s * march’d up to fresh attack,

Pierc’d like a wedge, and bore the Britons back.

As growling lions on Arabia’s plain,

Hunters, and dogs, in slow retreat sustain;

So Murray, and his troops, by might born down,

March slowly off, and fierce defiance frown!

As slow the French advanc’d, (as if in fear,)

Due distance kept, nor dar’d to close the rear:

Dear bought experience made their forces feel

Th’effect of bay’net fight, and Highland steel.

   TO where a Briton, and Hibernian lay,

Six scalping plund’rers thither bent their way.

   * A French regiment of Rousillon, which penetrated.

[page 127]

Th’Hibernian * rous’d, the Savages drew near,

To seize, and scalp an English volunteer.

Like gallant Peyton †, in the barb’rous strife,

To save his friend’s brave Ochterlony’s life;

His weapon launch’d, tranfix’d two Indians thro’!

Like Jove’s own bolt askance the halbert flew!

The second blow another Savage slew!

Thro’ thrice his number still unwounded stood,

The sanguin’d halbert chill’d their vital blood!

They cow’r’d beneath the blow, (with abject fear!)

As ‡ Turnus, when Æneas launch’d his spear!

To flight, (like genuine cowards,) quick they yield,

And leave th’ Hibernian conq’ror on the field!

Perchance there stood within th’Hibernian’s call,

A gen’rous foe! a great soul’d humane Gaul:

Who with his corps, (quite void of hostile wrath;)

Travers’d the field of carnage, blood, and death.

   * This was an Irishman, a serjeant of Bragg’s, who had receiv’d a shot in the breast, and could not retreat with the rest; who fell’d two of the Indians at one blow, with his halbert; and with a second blow, kill’d a third; as six of them were about to scalp an English volunteer, which lay near him, with a dangerous wound in his leg; and on three being kill’d, the other three fled.

   † The intrepid behaviour of Captain Ochterlony, and Lieutenant Peyton, is mention’d in the unsuccessful landing at Quebec.

   ‡ In the Æneid, ’tis said, Turnus cow’r’d for fear, when Ænas launch’d his spear at him, in combat, before the walls of Laurentum, in Italy.

[page 128]

To him he * call’d; and begg’d he’d save their lives,

From savage rage, and Indian scalping knives:

In anxious sort, to him, his arms he rear’d,

Who turn’d, and saw, and touch’d with mercy heard!

As Sol’s bright glaze dispels the shades of night,

He frown’d, forbid, turn’d human brutes to flight:

Blest with a soul, compassionate, and mild,

He smooth’d his brow, and full of pity smil’d!

To make the deed compleat, he stopp’d not here,

But order’d dressing, and a decent care:

And then to make the savage threat’ning vain,

Who vow’d revenge for scalping kinsmen slain,

From chosen Gauls, (the Savages to check,)

Murray receiv’d them safely at Quebec.

Had Richlieu been like him, politely brave,

Orphans at Zell had ’scap’d a flaming grave.

   * After the serjeant had lain three of the Indians dead, and the other three fled; he call’d to a French officer which stood near him, with many of his men, and begg’d he would be so good as to protect them, from being barbarously murder’d in cool blood, by these Barbarians. (For there wre several parties still scouting round the field, stripping the dead, and murdering, mangling, and scalping the wounded, according to their usual custom.) The officer very generously protected them, and order’d them to a place of safety; and to preserve them from being butcher’d by the Savages in the French army, (who with the greatest indignation, and cruel wrath, vow’d revenge for their brothers;) he the next day sent them under a proper guard into Quebec. A noble instance of French politeness, and hostile generosity!

[page 129]

   MEAN while, our troops, back to the fort retir’d;

’Gainst which the foe, (with the hard earn’d conquest fir’d,

Indians, Canadians, and the well train’d Gauls,)

With vain attempt, ply’d useless bombs, and balls;

Murray commanded there, and Britons mann’d the walls.

English, and French, engag’d with mutual hate;

And guns, and mortars, belch’d alternate fate:

With hardy troops Quebec was amply stor’d:

And on the ramparts six score cannon roar’d.

All stand the test, like links, in one great chain,

Ward off the threaten’d fate, and well the siege sustain.

Now Swanton, Schomberg, Dean, approach’d the walls;

Brought Murray joy; but terror to the Gauls.

Ready for war, with wonted naval glow,

And great vivacity they fought the foe.

With English speed, above the town they glide;

Their souls anticipate the rapid tide;

And fascination flies from each portending side.

When Britain’s flag beyond the walls appear’d,

With pannic struck, the French besiegers fear’d.

Like wax their hearts became, or melting snow,

And shipwreck chose, rather than fight the foe.

Brave Swanton, Schomberg, Dean, each active tar,

Roll’d on astern, in gloomy thund’ring war: [page 130]

In pistol shot, next board and board, they came;

And hurl’d Great Britain’s fierce destructive flame.

   EAGER for fight, to grapple with the foe,

Resolv’d to strike a home deciding blow;

The gallant Dean, absorb’d in warlike flame,

To shipwreck steer’d, and gain’d a lasting fame.

   AS if the French were acted by one soul,

 Or sympathetic fate had rul’d the whole;

The troops on shore, (o’erwhelm’d with mighty dread,)

In silent terror from their trenches fled:

Precipitate, retrod their former path;

At Jacques, shelter’d from the British wrath.

Murray, with unexpected joy survey’d

The camp, with Gallic wealth profusely spread!

And heaps on heaps, (tenfold,) his former loss repaid! *

Such was their speed, such their internal fear,

That Murray cou’d not overtake the rear!

A savage nation, (to his rage expos’d)

In friendly league with conq’ring Britain clos’d †.

   * When first General Murray march’d out with his troops, to meet, and oppose the French, marching towards Quebec; in his retreat, he left several field-pieces behind. But now, he found in the enemy’s abandon’d camp, so many field, or battering pieces, so much baggage, provision, ammunition, &c. of every sort, as would make almost a tenfold retribution.

   † Whoever reads the Extra Gazette, which contains the letter from General Murray, (governor of Quebec,) to the Right Honourable William Pitt, Esq; containing the French

[page 131]

   GAULS, and Canadians, sink in wild dismay,

And black despair, without one friendly ray;

Whilst GEORGE, o’er Montreal, extends his sov’reign sway.

Frenchmen, ne’er cou’d Britannia’s troops engage,

Nor stand the shock of England’s fourfold rage:

These were Great Britain’s thunderbolts of war;

To Gallic scalpers a tremendous bar!

Their quadrate * union gave great GEORGE command

O’er the wide tract of wild Canadia’s land.

siege of Quebec, and raising the siege; with the battle between his, and their troops; will I believe on the perusal find, that the enconiums which General Murray was generously pleas’d to give to the brave, and indefatigable Mr. Burton, Fraser, Dalling, Ince, and Macdonald; and the bold and active Commodore Swanton, and the Captains, Schomberg, and Dean, and to all the troops, and tars, in general: I say, I believe they will find, what he there says, to agree with what I have said in my Poem of the same. And that the disposition for the battle, was as I have said, under the same leaders, whom he expressly says, headed the different corps, or batallions, (if I may so call them;) for the regiments were greatly thinn’d. And they will find in his letter, that such events happen’d, such attacks, and such repulses, and every other incident, as I have mention’d: except that of the Irish serjeant of Bragg’s, and the English volunteer, wounded on the field of battle; which was in the news, and said to be by letters from America.

   * By quadrate union, I would be understood to mean, the English, and the Provincials, the Scotch, and Irish; all united, and assisting each other. And when I mention triple union; I mean, the English, Scotch, and Irish, united.

[page 132]

   THE murd’ring hatchet is no longer fear’d,

Th’ infernal savage yell no more is heard:

The Gallic scalping blade is laid aside,

So oft in blood of both the sexes dy’d!

Veng’ance is pour’d on cruel Montcalm’s head;

The Gallic Savage Vaudreuil is dead!

   NOT for desert, do we these things receive:

But GOD was kind, and wou’d these mercies give;

For when JEHOVAH spoke the world to view,

And Heav’n with radiant orbs bespangled grew;

Full to his sight the grand production stood;

And Wisdom infinite, pronounc’d it good;

From His high throne unnumber’d blessings flow,

On all the nations of the earth below:

But chiefly, Britain’s isle enjoy’d his care;

And down HE pour’d his floods of goodness here:

Eternal Wisdom flung the ocean round

Her happy feat, and form’d a sacred bound.

Whilst sweet complacence in the Godhead shone,

This great decree was issu’d from his throne:

Be Albion’s Isle a glorious happy land;

Rule in strange climes, and o’er the waves command:

Let plenty crown her glebe, and to her shore,

Let true religion waft her heav’nly store.

Almighty Prescience wills, and straight there springs

A race of warring heroes, mighty kings!

Whose great portraits wou’d be too long to draw;

Whose wars, struck all the wond’ring world with awe! [page 133]

Plenty sprang up, and with cœlestial smile,

Religion came, and bless’d Britannia’s Isle.

   GREAT GEORGE the Second, now began his reign,

Crush’d the French pow’r, when join’d with haughty Spain:

When Gallia’s monarque fled across the Rhine,

The glory of that day great GEORGE was thine!

Each year the much lov’d Monarch fill’d the throne,

The patriot KING with love paternal shone:

England was pleas’d his age he well sustain’d;

He gently rul’d, and in each bosom reign’d.

   BUT Lewis, now, to British lands pretends,

BRUNSWICK arouz’d, the cause of truth defends:

Submissive Gaul, America, and India bends!

Wise Heav’n propitious smil’d, when Britons arm’d,

And for stern war, the public bosom warm’d:

With one consent we all united rose;

For liberty we fought, wives, children, laws:

And Heav’n all potent bless’d the glorious cause!

Our tars and troops, Britannia’s veng’ance hurl’d;

And England’s war affrighted half the world!

Conquests, from ev’ry part in torrents flow’d!

And vic’tries on the heels of vict’ries trod!

Whilst wasting war thro’ half the globe destroy’d,

The British Isle tranquility enjoy’d!

   WE trod the summit of terrestrial joy;

But Heav’n design’d us grief and sad alloy: [page 134]

Our good old KING descends the silent grave:

(No station from the stroke of death can save:)

Down roll’d the tears from mournful Britons’ eyes;

Each bosom heav’d with sympathizing sighs!

The doleful accents sound from shore to shore,

GEORGE, the humane, the conq’ror is no more:

GEORGE, the belov’d, the merciful, the kind!

GEORGE, Britain’s KING; bless’d with a royal mind.

So in a good old age most noble spent,

Great JOSHUA to the grave in peace was sent;

And left the Jews, with mighty conquests crown’d,

In gen’ral grief, and sad reflection drown’d.

   THO’ mighty GEORGE cou’d frown like pow’rful fate,

Yet Heav’n’s great attribute he’d imitate:

When justice drew the sword to strike the blow,

Then, then, wou’d streams of regal mercy flow!

Soft pity stood confess’d within his * eye,

Whene’er he * doom’d th’unhappy wretch to die!

Oh! he’d forgive ev’n those who sought his crown!

But murd’rers sunk beneath his awful frown:

No honour, or high post, cou’d screen the knave,

Receiv’d his pay, and was not greatly brave.

To call to view his great perfections forth,

The glories of his reign, and royal worth;

   * * I have often heard it reported, that his Majesty King GEORGE the Second, would generally weep, when he signed a death warrant for a malefactor. A certain instance, of a great, and generous soul: or at least a mind, touch’d with a gentle sympathizing pity for the baseness, and sufferings of mankind.

[page 135]

Oh, ’tis a theme too great for me to sing;

O just, much lov’d, great, good, victorious KING.

   STILL let us hope, great GEORGE the Third, shines forth;

Full of his Sire, and patriotic worth:

So after gloomy night, with cheering ray,

The Sun breaks forth, and blazes welcome day.

His worth, his wars, behoves me now to sing:

Another GEORGE: another conq’ring KING.

End of BOOK VI.


[page 136]


THE Continent enjoying respite from war, and scalping butcheries. The preparation of Great Britain, in the fall of 1760, to attack the French, at Belleisle; and their terror on the coast of France, as the natural consequence; when threatened with a descent, by our troops, and tars. The blow retarded, by the interposition of Providence; having no effect on the disposition of the French; who sullenly awaited the event. His Majesty, GEORGE the Third, beginning his reign. Commodore Keppel, and General Hodgson, sent against Belleisle: with the reduction of the island, and the impotent rage of Lewis XV. Our fleet scouring the French coast, and the distress of France, and dispersion, and dismay, of its royal navy, Monsieur Bussey, the French ambassador, and the Count de Fuentes, the Spanish ambassador, failing in their attempts, for a cessation of arms. Our fleet watching the sculking French fleet. The Spanish king, vainly threat’ning, to deter England from prosecuting the war. The design against Martinico carried into execution. General Monckton, Admiral Rodney, &c. arriving in St. Anne’s bay, at Martinico. Sir James Douglass, with his squadron, silencing some French batteries along shore. Commodore Swanton attacking some others, and Capt. Hervey, in the Dragon, silencing the battery of the Grand Ance. Commodore Swanton, [page 137] and the Captains Shuldham, and Hervey, landing General Monckton, and the troops: Lord Rollo, Brigadier Haviland, with the other intrepid leaders, Rufane, Grant, Walsh, Scott, Vaughan, Massey, Fletcher, Kennedy, Leland, and our animated troops, rushing furiously on to battle; but retarded by a deep, wide, and steep ravine; some fearless, descend in haste; some plunge precipitately down: but soon recover, form, attack, and bear down all before them! mean while, Brigadier Haviland, with his brigade; the Highlanders, light Infantry, and Rangers, make another passage across the ravine; and tread down all opposition. Their joint attack of the French on every side, and possession gain’d of Morne Tartenson. The artillery playing on Morne Garnier, and the citadel, and the battery return’d. The French attack Brigadier Haviland, the Highlanders, light Infantry, and Rangers; who gallantly sustain’d the shock. Brigadier Walsh, and Colonel Grant, advancing fiercely with their corps, to succour them. The French retreating, and chac’d to their walls. The resolution and activity of our sailors dragging chearfully, and laboriously, guns and mortars to Tartenson; and across the enemy’s line of fire. Major Leland, with his corps, taking possession of several redoubts: Walsh, Grant, and Haviland, advancing to sustain him; and to occupy Morne Garnier’s ground. The artillery’s battery from thence on the citadel; with its surrender: and soon after, St. Lucia, and St. Peter’s given up; not daring to stand the storm of our troops, and tars. [page 138]






[illustration: T]HE Continent, at length, enjoy’d some peace,

And scalping butcheries began to cease.

Now nearer home the British thunder roars;

And Gallia trembled thro’ her hostile shores:

A pow’rful pannic ev’ry where prevail’d,

Like that, when Hawke, and Wolfe, and Saunders’ sail’d.

   OUR gallant tars, and soldiers brave, awhile,

Premeditate the blow against Belleisle: [unnumbered page]

But * Providence propitious to the foe;

For all wise reasons still retards the blow:

A time for cool reflection gave the Gaul,

E’er GEORGE’S veng’ance on their heads shou’d fall:

Rough adverse winds became a pow’rful bar;

And England only threat’ned France with war.

Tho’ baffled greatly on the continent,

The time elaps’d with gracious Heav’n had sent;

No peace was duly su’d in proper form:

But sullen still, they wait the growing storm.

   NOW long had England’s veng’ance dormant lain,

When GEORGE the Third began his glorious reign,

The war, his great Grandfather predesign’d,

Gain’d the full assent of his royal mind:

Keppel he chose against Belleisle to go,

With his prime veng’ance ’gainst the stubborn foe:

With him, the gallant Hodgson, likewise sail’d,

In quest of fame, and gloriously prevail’d!

This † isle was one great fort, and ev’ry where,

Mortars, and cannon, big with death appear;

   * When our armament, was preparing against Belleisle, in the fall of 1760; we had many storms, rough, and contrary winds, ’till it grew so late, the expedition was dropped for the season, and in the mean time our good old King died: But his Grandson, George the Third, still carried on the war, with the like vigour, and attack’d Belleisle with his first vengeance.

   † The letters from the fleet, and army, against Belleisle, mention’d, that the whole island was one fortification, by nature almost; but where that fail’d, art, and cannon, supplied the place.

[page 140]

By nature steep, not easily assail’d,

And art made strong, wherever nature fail’d:

But Hodgson’s fearless soul was full of flame,

Resolv’d to gain a British hero’s name.

Keppel had oft been try’d, ’midst death and fire;

Again, he fiercely glows with new desire:

These both unite; their thunders jointly roar,

And blest this isle in view of Gallia’s shore.

So two fierce lions in the lonely wood,

O’er awe the dam, and seize her shaggy brood;

The mother bear o’ercome with great dismay,

Growls, as they drag her helpless cub away!

As Lewis view’d Belleisle, and full of grief,

Resentment frown’d; but dar’d not give relief.

   NOW rang’d our fleet along the Gallic coast;

And France could scarce a weak resistance boast:

Their naval pow’r destroy’d, dispers’d, dismay’d;

Cou’d not protect their home or foreign trade;

When lo, they call’d * Hispania to their aid.

With seeming friendship; but designing guile,

By Spain, Great Britain was amus’d awhile:

But GEORGE the Third, with sage precaution arm’d;

For war, or lasting peace, most nobly warm’d,

   * About this time, Spain attempted a mediation, and sent the Count de Fuentes; who in concert with Monsieur Bussey, strove to gain their end: but Mr. Pitt, like an honest man, remain’d inflexible: neither could our King, Great GEORGE the Third, be persuaded to grant France a cessation of arms.

[page 141]

Wou’d ne’er consent hostilities shou’d cease;

Nor grant the French the long wish’d six months’ peace.

Tho’ Bussey sooth’d, and frown’d, his end to get,

He nothing gain’d but negatives from Pitt:

Fuentes next, (well fraught with courtier’s art,)

Strove to pervert the faithful patriot’s heart;

Great Britain’s minister was so profound,

Their mighty plan with ill success was crown’d.

   OUR tars, still roll’d our thunder o’er the main,

In spite of Bourbon, and contracting Spain;

Ev’n to their ports pursu’d our sculking foes;

When a new mark for their resentment rose:

Proud Martinico yet her bulwarks rear’d,

As if she’d ne’er Britannia’s terrors fear’d;

Great GEORGE the Third predestinates the blow,

And dooms her ramparts to an overthrow.

The Spaniard grew more jealous than before,

And growl’d defiance from his hostile shore.

   MEAN while, the gallant Monckton rouz’d anew,

For foreign war, his troops together drew:

Tho’ at Quebec he * felt the missive lead,

He glows for war, nor feels desponding dread.

   * General Monckton, in the battle on the plains of Abraham, before the town of Quebec; receiv’d a shot through the body; which pass’d through, or very near his lungs.

[page 142]

   RODNEY the bold; with England’s daring tars;

And the surviving gallant sons of Mars,

Whose war against Belleisle transfix’d the Gaul;

With Monckton, destin’d Martinico’s fall:

In Anna’s bay, firm as strong fate combin’d,

In one great dreadful pow’rful union join’d!

   THE gallant * Douglas various batt’ries storm’d;

By honour fir’d, the dang’rous task perform’d;

With him, they stood not long in fierce dispute,

His direful roar made Gallia’s thunder mute.

   † SWANTON, who drove their frigates from Quebec,

Prepar’d again, to give their arms a check.

Hervey, the brave; by emulation fir’d,

Fiercely attack’d, and gain’d the point desir’d;

Most nobly rouz’d to quell the pride of France,

He silenc’d all the thunder of Grand Ance.

   ‡ Now to the shore, (inspir’d by freeborn flame,)

With Britain’s warlike leaders, Monckton came.

   * Admiral Rodney’s letter of the 19th of January, 1761, to Mr. Cleveland, mentions Sir James Douglas, silencing the forts, in St. Anne’s bay; and Commodore Swanton, with Captain Hervey, of the Dragon, who silenc’d the battery of the Grand Ance, at Martinico.

   † Vide my Siege of Quebec, rais’d by Commodore Swanton, &c.

   ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ Admiral Rodney’s letter to Mr. Cleveland, mentions

[page 143]

As Jove, when cloath’d in gloom, (in awful form;)

Launches his bolts amidst the thunder storm:

Brave ‡ Swanton, ‡ Shuldham, ‡ Hervey, fearless tars,

Launch’d on the shore our dreadful sons of Mars!

With speed, the fascine batt’ries soon were rear’d,

Whence De la Touche the thund’ring greeting heard;

Intrepid Grant *, Rufane *, and Rollo * glow,

With Walsh *, and Scott *, to meet and charge the foe:

A thousand * gallant tars with Monckton lay,

Wishing employ where danger mark’d the way.

   LEADERS, and soldiers, burning for the war,

Rush fearless on, in spight of ev’ry bar:

Behold, a boggy † ravine; wide, and steep;

In which the French a dreadful ambush keep:

the disposition of the landing, with Commodore Swanton, and the Captains Shuldham, and Hervey, commanding; one, on the right, one, on the left, and one, in the center: And he likewise mentions, some other things concerning the seamen, as they occu in my Poem.

   * * * * * * General Monckton mentions this, very particularly, in his Letter to the Earl of Egremont, from Martinico.

   † The following is an extract, from a private letter. A ravine, is a large hollow, made between hills; occasion’d by sudden currents of water; (which are very frequent, and rapid, at the time of the equinox.) They are of a considerable depth, and not less difficult to get into, than to ascend: as they are tufted over with trees, and brushwood, on every side; and in many places, cover’d over. These the French lin’d with infantry; but our forces, (resolute,

[page 144]

As if new dangers had anew inspir’d,

Britannia’s troops, with mighty ardour fir’d!

Down the steep bank, they (like a torrent) roll’d,

With matchless vigor, not to be controul’d!

Some pressing eager on deceitful ground,

They headlong plung’d into the wide profound:

But like young eagles chacing of their prey;

Light they sprang up, soon form’d, and forc’d their way.

Across the ravine, (as they nearer drew;)

The friendly balls, and hostile bullets flew:

Cannons, and infantries, and mortars roar;

Some heroes fall, to rise again no more.

   GRANT, and his grenadiers, began th’attack;

And drove th’ advancing guards of Frenchmen back:

Quickly each corps to their assistance came,

Eager for glory, emulous of fame.

   MEAN while, brave Haviland, with his brigade,

Across the gulph another passage made:

With him, brave Caledonians charg’d the Gauls;

Ready to speed where warlike danger calls:

With these, the Rangers to the gulph were led:

There, the light infantry to battle sped:

and determin’d to carry their batteries on the other side,) let each other down, (first slinging their muskets:) when they got on the other side, clamber’d up as fast as possible, formed, and carried all before them. Some were let down precipitately, by the bank’s giving way: but they soon recovered themselves, and join’d their corps.

[page 145]

The path of honour thro’ the ravine lay;

Fiercely they charg’d, and hew’d the glorious way.

   AT length, a general attack was form’d;

On ev’ry side, the French were fiercely storm’d:

Now Scott, and his light infantry, (for fame,)

Midst leaden deaths, and hostile dangers came.

Vaughan *, Massey †, Fletcher †, Kennedy † the brave;

With Leland †, marks of British courage gave:

Each hero nam’d, with ev’ry corps above;

For warlike fame, most emulously strove:

The sons of Scotland made the Frenchmen feel

The mortal weight of Caledonian steel.

British, and Gallic bayonets engag’d;

Around brave Monckton, deaths, and dangers rag’d:

Gates ‡, and Ricaut ‡, await on either hand,

And plunge thro’ dangers when he gives command.

Now on all sides the foe began to yield,

And Monckton stood the conq’ror on the field:

Quickly our troops, (with toilsome vict’ry crown’d,)

Gain’d the possession of Tartenson’s ground §.

   * Read Vaughan, as if spelt Vaun; for I understand it is a Welsh name, and spoke in general, like one syllable.

   † † † † † † General Monckton, in his letter to the Earl of Egremont, expressly mentions the attacks as above; and speaks very honourably, of the above commanders, and their corps.

   ‡ ‡ General Monckton’s two aid de camps.

   § A high fortified hill, opposite Morne Garnier.

[page 146]

   HOSTILE Morne Garnier still higher lay;

’Gainst which, th’artilleries soon began to play;

From whence, against our troops, their storm they bent;

And death, for death, alternatively was sent.

   AT length, the Frenchmen emulously fir’d,

To gain a name most gloriously aspir’d!

Across the ravine *, they a passage made,

Against bold Haviland, and his brigade:

Soon the light infantry to battle rose!

And with the rangers, met the charging foes:

With wonted glow the Caledonians drew;

And full of ardour, to th’engagement flew:

Thither sped Walsh, and Grant, (with fierce delight,)

To share the fame, and danger of the fight:

The daring foes gave way, (and full of dread,)

Back thro’ the ravine, in disorder sped:

They fled by thousands; wing’d with awful fear;

As swift ours chac’d, and mingled with the rear:

As at Quebec, they drove them to the walls,

And brought from thence the captivated Gauls.

   LET Monckton wish, (the daring deed is done;)

With freeborn ardour England’s † sailors run;

’Midst all the Gallic fire, they fearless grew,

And guns, and mortars, to Tartenson † drew;

   * General Monckton’s letter, to the Earl of Egremont, mentions these passages particularly.

   † † † † † General Monckton, and Admiral Rodney, mention this: and the following, is what Admiral Rodney

[page 147]

Whence on the citadel they fiercely pour

Of deadly shot, and shells, an iron show’r.

Leland †, at length, gain’d the great and desir’d;

As he advanc’d, the foe confus’d retir’d.

Walsh †, Grant †, and Haviland †, soon gather’d round;

And took possession of Morne Garrier’s ground.

Now near the citadel our forces drew;

The bombs and balls from Garnier’s summit flew;

The fierce artill’ry’s war, not long they stood;

But struck their flag, and own’d they were subdu’d.

St. Peter’s *, and St. Lucia’s *, much dismay’d;

O’er aw’d, and hopeless of European aid;

Full of amazement at Britannia’s wars,

Dreading our forces, and our dauntless tars;

(With one consent,) to shun the storm accord,

(Submit,) and own great GEORGE their sov’reign lord.

End of BOOK VII.

writes in his letter of the roth of February, to Mr. Cleveland. “But this I must say, in justice to those I have the honour to command; that the intrepidity, and gallant behaviour of the officers, and troops, and employ’d on the expedition, could be equall’d only, by the chearful activity of the officers, and seamen; who contributed every thing in their power, towards the reduction of the place, and made no difficulties, in transporting numbers of heavy mortars, and ship’s cannon, up the steepest mountains, at a very considerable distance from the sea; and across the enemy’s line of fire.”

   * * St. Peter’s fort, was where Mons. De la Touche fled, with some thousands of his grenadiers, when General Monckton took possession of the citadel, at Martinico; and the fort of St. Lucia, is another; and both forts sent to General Monckton, and Admiral Rodney, to surrender; whilst they were preparing to attack them, by sea, and land.

 [page 148]



FRANCE humbled; and the beginning of the Spanish war. His Majesty, King GEORGE the Third, rousing to war, against his combin’d foes; like Jove, against Phæton, who sat secure, and view’d the ravage his ambition made. The strength of the Spanish garrison at Cuba; the numbers of its desendants; their desperateness, and bravery. The descent made by Albemarle, &c. with the troops and tars. The Moor begirt with English terrors. The Spanish resolution, to stand the united assault, of our troops, and the fleet. The battery begun. The Cambridge, Marlborough, and Dragon, engage the Moro, &c. The intrepidity of Captain Lindsay, of the Trent frigate. The general assault ceas’d. A daily cannonade commenced, &c. Freqeunt sallies made by the Spaniards; but are repuls’d. A sally made by One Thousand; neither give or take quarter: The [page 149] reception they met, from Britain’s animated troops, and their repulse, after a desperate battle, and bloody carnage. They regain the Moro, and again defy the British troops. The Moro blown up. The attack made, under those two brave leaders, Lieutenant General Keppel, and Brigadier Haviland. Captain Forbes, at the head of the Royals, fiercely enters the breach. The bravery of the gallant Don Velasco, governor of the Moro: His station, at the flag staff, and his fall. The Moro taken, and Great Britain’s standard hoisted. The mortality, among the soldiers. The resolution of those which survive. The storm against the town, and Punta fort. A truce desir’d; and the town surrender’d.


[page 150]






[illustration: T]HE pleasing talk perform’d (at honour’s call;

Britain triumphant, and the humbled Gaul;

Hispania’s war my muse again inspires,

New fields, new heroes, kindle new desires.

   NOW is my task, to sing a war indeed!

Where heroes conquer, and where brave men bleed.

Such was the war old Homer’s numbers tell;

Where Hector brave, and fierce Achilles fell: [unnumbered page]

Such was the war where conq’ring Grecians fought;

Such was the vict’ry which they dearly bought.

   FROM toils of war, Great Britain cannot cease;

The jealous Spaniard will not be at peace:

The placid GEORGE, (like his humane Grandsire)

Long bore their insults, and restrain’d his ire:

Consious of safety, laid his veng’ance by;

Yet scann’d their plans with a most jealous eye.

When giddy Phæton Sol’s bright chariot drove,

So sat secure the great imperial Jove:

But when involv’d in flame, he saw the world,

From his strong hand the vengeful * bolt was hurl’d.

So England’s KING, against combining foes,

To terrene, and to naval war arose;

’Gainst Britain’s troops, and tars, the place to hold,

And in the lift of fame to stand inroll’d.

These were to battle by brave Spaniards led,

Strangers to pride, and base desponding dread.

Lewis † Velasco, and ‡ Gonsales bold;

Whose worth, with pleasure, conq’ring Britons told.

   * Vide, my reference to Phæton, dash’d from Apollo’s car, in my engagement between Admiral Hawke, and Conflans, in Quiberon Bay.

   † A gallant man, and good commander; wounded, and taken prisoner.

   ‡ Don Gonsales, Lieutenant governor of the Moro, who was kill’d in fight.

[page 152]

The prime command brave Don * Velasco bore;

For kindness known to Englishmen before:

Who had the name of Amiable gain’d;

In whose great soul a humane brav’ry reign’d.

Next in command, the gen’rous † Prado stands;

Whose name, in war, a due respect demands.

Nor shou’d the naval daring sons of Spain,
Unnotic’d in the warlike list remain;

Who dar’d with Britain’s matchless tars t’engage;

Fac’d gallant Pocock’s war! and brav’d fierce Keppel’s rage!

   THE wary foe had fortify’d the ground;

And troops of Spanish horse were station’d round:

Chiefly the Moro ‡; old Hispania’s pride,

Pocock’s, and Albermarle’s, and Keppel’s war defy’d:

   * Governor of the Moro Castle; and who defended it most bravely, to the last extremity: and who had long before gain’d the regard of the English, by his humanity, good nature, and complaisance to them; and his good will, to the English nation.

   † Juan Del Prado, governor of the town: a brave great spirited man.

   ‡ The Spaniards, we are inform’d, esteem’d the Moro, or Moor Castle, the strongest fortress in the world; and thought it even impregnable, from the advantage of its situation, the difficulty of access, the strength and number of its situation, the difficulty of access, the strength and number of its redoubts, and outworks; with the number of its cannon and mortars, and the great strength of the main garrison itself; the wall being fifty feet thick: but more than all, they depended on the bravery, and great number of its descendants; who made a noble, obstinate, and bloody defence!

[page 153]

But like the three fork’d thunder of the skies,

When wing’d with light’ning, from Olympus flies;

These three, spread dreadful devastation round;

And riv’d and flung the Moro to the ground.

   BRAVE * Albermarle, with Britain’s * sons of Mars,

Pocock *, and Keppel *, with our dauntless * tars,

Fiercely resolv’d towards the foe they bend,

And on the shore victoriously descend;

Begird the Moor with British terrors round;

And occupy all advantageous ground:

Around the town, on diff’rent heights, they lye;

(The surly foes th’approaching war defy.)

With one consent, our troops, and tars unite;

And rouze each other to the glorious fight;

Their batt’ries raise against the destin’d town:

Hispania’s troops, and tars, defiance frown.

not giving up when storm’d, till four hundred, in defence of the place, gallantly resign’d their lives; and forc’d Great Britain’s animated heroes, to obtain a laborious victory: who when they met that brave, and desperate opposition; eager for glory, collected in their mighty souls, all their warlike ardour; and like gunpowder confin’d, kindling into flame, bore down all opposition: and meeting with that fierce resistance, made the more rapid conquest.

   * * * * * The soldiers, marines, and sailors, join’d with one consent, to attack the place, and with united efforts, built batteries, dragg’d the cannon, and mortars around, and play’d upon the Moor Castle, and Town: inspiring each other mutually, with resolution, and warlike emulation.

[page 154]

All that cou’d fire the soul, and chace dismay,

Within this town in great abundance lay:

Such heaps of white, and yellow glitt’ring ore,

That avarice itself cou’d wish no more.

Within the port, whole trading fleets remain:

Twelve of the line; the royal ships of Spain.

Full twenty thousand armed Spaniards there,

’Gainst Britain’s storm a bold defence prepare;

For safety, each destructive method plan;

And with the sailors, guns, and mortars man:

With sunken ships they form a dang’rous bar;

They dread the thunder of our naval war:

For now began our batt’ry on the shore!

The Cambridge, and the Marlb’rough, ’gainst the Moor,

In concert with the Dragon, fiercely roar.

The moor, the town, the forts, themselves prepare;

The gen’ral storm, and Britain’s batt’ry dare:

Full of intrepid glow, and gen’rous rage,

Britons, and Spaniards, ardently engage.

Whilst all commanders brave, the fight maintain,

One * only fears t’attack the forts of Spain:

Far otherwise, the gallant Lindsay’s † soul!

Who, long before he heard the thunder growl,

   * Vide Sir George Pocock’s letter, in the Gent. Mag. for Sept. 1762, to Mr. Cleveland, concerning the St-rl-ng-C-stle, and her commander.

   † Captain Lindsay, of his Majesty’s frigate, the Trent: who when the four men of war were order’d to batter the Moor Castle, waited on Admiral Pocock, and represented

[page 155]

Or animating shouts had pierc’d his ears,

In warlike flame absorb’d all meaner fears!

With manly ardour, and a fierce delight,

He plunges thro’ the terrors of the fight!

Eager to take a dying hero’s charge,

Forgets the dangers of an open barge;

Speeds to the Cambridge, and with stern disdain,

Rolls Britain’s thunder ’gainst the sons of Spain!

Britain’s tremendous charge, the Moor defies;

From thence, a storm of lead, and iron flies:

English disploding dashing deaths are thrown,

To fling the mural hopes of Spaniards down;

To waste their troops, and terrify the town.

The Cambridge, Marlb’rough, and the Dragon wage

Unequal war, against Hispania’s rage:

Our sailors feel no cold reluctant fear,

Altho’ the decks like slaughter shops appear:

Altho’ like wrecks; the batter’d ships sustain

The Moro’s war, and naval storm of Spain.

   THO’ rouz’d at first, to quell the Spanish foe,

The gallant Pocock’s soul felt fiercest glow;

to him; that as he commanded only a frigate, he could be of no service, or acquire honour; therefore requested, that if any of the four ships lost their captains, he might be permitted to take the command, during the cannonade: which request was granted; and in about five minutes, the Cambridge threw out the signal, for the captain being killed; when Captain Lindsay, put off from the Trent, in his barge; and through a most terrible fire, got on board the Cambridge, and fought her most gallantly, till she, and the other two ships, were order’d to be tow’d off.

[page 156]

A gen’rous pity to that rage succeeds,

Whilst ev’ry fearless naval hero bleeds:

(Tho’ overwhelm’d with deaths, without dismay,

They burn to win the glory of the day.)

Anxious to save each well deserving tar,

For future battle, and more equal war;

Pocock commands, they end the fierce dispute,

As they tow off the naval roar grows mute.

And now commenc’d a daily cannonade;

The Spaniards still a bold resistance made:

Their wives, their honour, and their all at stake;

By which inspir’d, they vig’rous sallies make:

Oft as they sally, are as oft repell’d;

Chac’d to their walls, or down in battle fell’d.

With resolution arm’d, on either side,

Mortars, and guns, most eagerly were ply’d:

Week, after week, full fifty * days, and more,

The cannon, infantries, and mortars roar:

Both parties seem each day to grow more warm;

Each other oft alternately alarm.

   AS desp’rate gamesters oft, will hazard all,

The Spaniards, (at their bleeding country’s call;)

By honour rouz’d, to gain a warlike fame,

Their souls had wrought to patriotic flame;

A thousand pleb’ian heroes dare t’advance,

Against the scourgers of persidious France:

   * Our troops, were landed the sixth of June, against the Spaniards; and carried the Moor Castle, sword in hand, the thirtieth of July; which is above fifty days.

[page 157]

And as they march to give the daring storm,

A horrid formidable front they form:

Their dire design these letters plainly spake,

We neither give, nor will we quarters take:

But what avails their gallantry and worth?

’Gainst Britain’s heroes fierce, they sally’d forth.

With equal ardour England’s troops arose,

To meet the daring vet’ran Spanish foes:

Methinks, I hear our fearless say,

Brave fellow soldiers! fight like men to day!

The coming foe is obstinately brave!

Great Britain’s honour, and your own to save,

Now draw your swords; and in this glorious cause,

Gain Europe’s praise, and GEORGE the Third’s applause.

As when smooth oil on flaming fire is thrown,

(By blust’ring winds to dreadful fury blown;)

With rage resistless on the torrent flows;

So full of warlike flame against our foes,

To fierce attack, all resolutely rose,

And as two torrents (with a deaf’ning sound,)

Rush down two hills towards the lower ground,

They meet, they mix, and as they mix, engage,

And deal out death with stern relentless rage:

With equal firmness both the parties close;

Muskets, to muskets, swords, to swords oppose:

Encount’ring pikes (in close engagement meet,)

With deadly truths th’ill fated bosoms greet: [page 158]

Keen Highland steel, and bright Toledo * blade,

A grating unharmonious concert made:

As each his burnish’d pond’rous faulchion rear’d,

A resolution in his face appear’d:

Quebec’s, Belleisle’s, and Martinico’s fate,

Warm’d Britons’ souls, and made their hearts elate,

Hundreds of Spaniards strew’d th’ ensanguin’d ground;

And each, in front † receiv’d his honest wound:

Fierce grew the fight, fiercer the Britons glow’d;

O’er dead, and dying, resolutely trod;

Against the living ranks their storm they bend,

And glitt’ring deaths in show’rs of steel descend,

And rode in flaming triumph wrapt in lead;

None feels remorse, none knows desponding dread:

Some Britons fall, (for fate will have it so;)

While Spaniards weep in blood their overthrow:

With warlike pomp, to death, each Briton goes,

Attended by a whole platoon of foes,

At length, the Spanish resolution fail’d;

And English intrepidity prevail’d;

   * I mean by that, the Spanish swords: the Toledo steel, being accounted the best in Spain; and it is a historic name; being in history, call’d Toledo good, or Good Toledo blade.

   † I call it an honest wound; because they look ‘d death, and danger, boldly in the face; and as they sought for their own, and their country’s interest, so bravely, and obstinately, and turn’d not their backs, till compell’d to retreat, by an equal match of valour; when they were overwhelm’d, and born down, by the irresistible vigour, and fierceness, with which the British troops advanc’d to battle, against those gallant sons of Spain; who march’d to battle, with these words wrote in the front of their hats: We neither give, nor take quarters.

[page 159]

To British arms they seem inclin’d to yield,

Yet inch by inch dispute the bloody field.

As when a whirlwind (with destructive force,)

O’erturns the forest in its rapid course;

With devastation, Britons forc’d their way,

And backward roll’d the Spaniards in dismay.

They turn’d (reluctant,) with a tardy flight,

Impetuously fierce, with warring might,

Upon their broken rear the Britons flew,

Their desp’rate foes, with stern resentment slew;

O’er dying Spaniards trod, as near the Moor they drew.

Behind the Moro’s walls, again they hide;

New courage gain’d, and England’s troops * they defy’d.

Mortars, and guns, with Spanish tars they man;

Again a desp’rate cannonade began:

Our troops and tars loud veng’ance fiercely roar;

Again bombard, and cannonade the Moor:

Like an expiring snuff, some blaze they made;

That flame grew dull, and glimmer’d into shade.

More dull, and slow, the Moor’s discharges grew;

But seldom thence, the bombs and bullets flew;

With mighty rage Great Britain’s war encreas’d,

No fire was slack’d, nor batt’ring terrors ceas’d:

Incessant roll’d the storm, both night and day;

Tho’ thought impregnable, the walls gave way;

The mighty Moro fallable was found;

The ramparts raz’d, and batter’d to the ground:

   * The Spaniards, when they got within the Moro, seemed to be so fearless, and obstinate, as ever.

[page 160]

In ruin flung; yet still they bulwarks form,

Dreadful to pass, and terrible to storm.

   OUR engineers, at length, their caverns made,

Beneath the walls their tumid terrors laid;

Thence, in a fierce expanding flame they rose;

The castle shook, and terrify’d their foes:

Scarce mov’d, a pond’rous load the ramparts lay,

Nor wou’d to powder’s matchless pow’r give way:

Strong, in their heaps of ruin they abide,

As common bulwarks in unbatter’d pride.

   ONLY one * file witing the breach cou’d form;

No more cou’d march in front, to give the storm:

(In little hills the rugged ramparts lay,

Portending ruin o’er the subject sea.)

Fierce Forbes † march’d, to storm the dreadful place,

And thund’ring death flash’d horror in his face:

   * When the engineers sprang their mine, under the Moro Castle, the walls lay such an enormous load, on the rising flame, that it sought vent another way: and so stable the walls remain’d, that the displosion only made a breach, for three men a breast to advance.

   † † † † Major General Keppel, was first in command at the storm of the Moro: and Brigadier General Haviland, was second there: and Lieutenant Forbes, (since made a captain in the forty-second regiment,) first enter’d the breach; (if it may be call’d a breach;) at the head of the Royals; who had gain’d great honour, during the siege; and the breach was so situated, that had they miss’d a step, they must have gone about a hundred yards headlong into

[page 161]

On rush’d the Royals †, with true British glow;

(Destruction † yawn’d most dreadfully below.)

As Wolfe, and Amherst, (in tremendous roar,)

Flew arm’d with thunder on Cape Breton’s shore;

So Haviland, and Keppel †, warlike honour sought,

And to the breach Great Britain’s triple union brought.

Velasco * fierce, resolv’d to spill his blood,

Like † Ajax, near the Spanish flag-staff stood:

With heart resolv’d, and visage full of wrath,

Defiance frown’d, and brandish’d glitt’ring death.

With lifeless hope, but manly voice he calls,

Spaniards! stand firm! and guard you batter’d walls!

Your all depends on this decisive day:

No hope remains the moment you give way!

the sea, on one side, or the ditch, on the other: and we are inform’d that the very men, which so intrepidly enter’d against all the opposition, so desperate an enemy could make, with cannon, and small arms, were afraid to return by the same way, and among all the thousands of gallant men there, one only was known to show the least backwardness, or had been heard to complain; tho’ many, both officers, and men, had been several days in the trenches, without being reliev’d.

   * The gallant Don Lewis de Velasco, captain of one of their men of war, and governor of Moro; fiercely resolved, fix’d himself by the colours, and defended them, sword in hand; till mortally wounded in the storm.

   † For an explanation of this, concerning Ajax; vide, my reference for the fireships, in my Siege of Quebec, or the fifteenth and sixteenth books of Homer’s Iliad.

[page 162]

Remember, Englishmen your walls assail;

What mighty honour, shou’d you now prevail!

And from the breach, th’advancing forces chace!

No foe, henceforth, will dare a Spaniard face.

The Spaniards rouze, and rank and file they close,

Throng to the breach, and dare th’assailing foes.

   NOW Haviland, and Keppel, in flame

Of British zeal, near Moro’s Castel came:

Not one, but feels a great heroic rage;

Each seems alert, as if he long’d t’engage.

Chearful, resolv’d, the leaders all appear,

Rushing in front, or thronging on the rear:

With eyes brimful of joy, and fierce delight,

They march, and rouze each diff’rent corps to fight.

And doubtless, this the strain in which they spoke,

Advancing in the clouds of sulph’rous smoke.

A leader of the British Grenadiers,

Cries come my lads! who ne’er knew dastard fears,

March fiercely on, with resolution fix’d;

Brave Englishmen, and bold Hibernians mix’d.

To England’s honour, let all Europe say,

You storm’d the breach on this decisive day;

And bore the palm of victory away.

Then shall Hibernia share the glorious fame,

Whose gallant sons against Hispania came.

The Caledonian chiefs, most fiercely call

To Highland troops, remember conquer’d Gaul!

And like her troops, let those brave Spaniards feel

Your warlike worth, and Caledonian steel. [page 163]

Provincial leaders, (emulously brave,)

To rouze their troops, this short narration gave;

Revolve each fight, in which you’ve bravely fought;

With lives, and blood, your warlike honour bought:

Let Abr’m’s plain, and Loiusbourg twice won,

Rouze you to act, what oft before you’ve done;

Your mother country’s pow’rs join once again,

Prove yourselves sons of brave old Englishmen.

’Twas needless more, all felt a fearless glow,

And stumbled thro’ the breach towards the foe.

With broad-swords drawn, and bayonets well fix’d,

English, and Spaniards, in confusion mix’d:

All fiercely fought, inspir’d with equal hate

Lead mortal flew, and steel fell arm’d with fate.

   IN equipoize, short time the battle hung;

Our’s, glory fir’d, but pride the Spaniards stung:

The breach disputed they no longer hold,

And like a torrent in the Britons roll’d:

Spaniards retreat, our’s urg’d the flight along,

And to the guarded flag-staff fiercely throng:

Velasco there, resolvedly remain’d;

The flight retarded, and the fight maintain’d.

(So lion’s cubs, (On Lybia’s burning sand,)

’Gainst troops of hunters make a feeble stand;

If e’er perchance, the fire their passage bar,

And roars, prepar’d for lacerating war;

’Till closely press’d by the bold hunting train,

They scatter singly thro’ the scorching plain;

Or gasp in death by some brave hunter slain.) [page 164]

Of that great corps Velasco seems the soul,

And by example animates the whole:

He fights, exhorts, their drooping spirits chears;

Recalls their ardour, and dispels cold fears:

Courage, my soldiers! (he undaunted cries,)

Who falls this day, a Spanish patriot dies!

Halt! halt! for shame! despise inglorious flight!

Exert yourselves! once more like Spaniards fight!

Wheel! rally! charge! repel th’advancing foe!

And stand the first nam’d conquerors below!

They fac’d, retrod the first deserted ground;

He fac’d our troops, and approbation frown’d;

An equal frown of terror Britons wore,

To desp’rate battle oft inur’d before.

On ev’ry side, the triple union pour’d;

(Velasco’s brow a grim defiance lour’d.)

Here English, and Hibernians, nobly fir’d,

To battle flew as if one soul inspir’d;

Before their way to meet Velasco’s frown:

With wonted glow, the Caledonians hew,

With equal ardour to the flag-staff flew.

Velasco now receiv’d his mortal wound;

But still he fought, still he kept the flag-staff’s ground:

As from his wounds he pour’d his vital blood,

The Spaniards cool’d, the shock no longer stood:

And as the Mexicans * long time before,

When Cortes drawn by love of golden ore;

   * When the Spaniards, led by Hernando Cortes, conquer’d Mexico; vast multitudes of the poor wretches perish’d

[page 165]

Willing from Spanish rage themselves to save,

Plung’d headlong down into a wat’ry grave;

So these by hundreds (in a wild dismay),

From British troops sought shelter in the sea.

The ragged * staff torn down, was soon disgrac’d,

And on the bastion Britain’s Standard plac’d.

   THE Moro gain’d, yet still the Spaniards dare;

To stand the batt’ring shock, again prepare.

Death † seems to join the threaten’d town to save,

And sweeps whole hundreds to the silent grave:

Thro’ all their boiling veins Sol darts his fire;

And troops worn out in calentures expire.

Yet tho’ it seem’d wise Providence to please,

Thousands shou’d fall by sword †, and by disease,

The brave surviving Britons still maintain

The batt’ring siege, against the sons of Spain:

Fiercely once more, our tars, and troops unite,

Again prepare the storm, both day, and night:

At length they burst in most tremendous roar;

If possible, more dreadful than before.

By obstinate, and fierce attacks subdu’d,

That storm few ‡ hours, the daring Spaniards stood.

in the water, and lakes, surrounding it: and now, the Spaniards share a similar fate; some hundreds of them, losing their lives, as they attempted to flee in their boats, in confusion, before the dreadful conquering troops in Britain.

   * The Spanish ensign has a ragged staff in it.

   † † There was a great mortality among our troops, and sailors; and being worn out with hard duty, day and night, and a laborious battery, death swept off by hundreds, in a fever.

   ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ When the storm from the Moro, (now in our possession,)

[page 166]

Tho’ first, the governor, (with warlike frown)

When summon’d to surrender up the town,

Declar’d he valu’d not Great Britain’s might;

But to the last, with all their pow’r would fight:

Yet, when he felt the British cannonade,

And saw the havoc our bombardment made,

He grew more cool, and for short respite sent

Of some few hours, no more on war intent:

And crav’d three ships ‡ might no obstruction meet,

And unmolested pass thro’ Britain’s fleet:

The gallant Pocock sent him this again;

No, not a boat ‡; much less three ships of Spain,

Shou’d pass unsearch’d, thro’ Britain’s dreadful fleet,

But must expect with thund’ring rage to meet;

Good English ships ‡ to Spain shou’d them convey:

Good English ships, the terrors of the sea!

By hard necessity to terms brought down;

Prado gave up the long defended town;

In which were treasures by whole millions found;

And Britain’s arms with glorious conquest crown’d.


and on the shore, was begun, in concert, against the town, and Punta fort, by our troops, and tars: Juan del Prado, governor of the town, in about six hours, sent out to desire a respite, for some few hours, to make his terms; which was granted; and withal, begg’d three ships of the line, might pass unsearch’d to Spain. Admiral Pocock return’d him for answer, not a long boat should pass; but good English ships should carry them to Spain; and when the governor found this, he capitulated, and gave up the town, fort, and twelve men of war of the Spanish line.

[page 167]


FRANCE sprawling amidst her overthrow, like a cock with a fractur’d thigh. Spain joining in the war. Lewis, (like a bankrupt,) strives to save his credit, and throws his All at stake. France, and Spain, viewing Newfoundland, with greedy eyes, like two tigers, intending to attack a lion’s cub. A few anecdotes. Four French men of war sail from Brest, with about thirteen hundred regulars for Martinico: but hearing it was surrender’d to our forces, they steer for Newfoundland; make a descent, first at bay of Bulls, and burn that place. Monsieur Le Comte Dosohnville marches from Bay of Bulls to St. John’s, across the land, takes it, and gives good quarter. His Excellency Thomas Graves, Esq; governor, &c. at Newfounland, being advertis’d of it off at sea, sails to Placentia, moors his ship, and there, with Captain Douglass, expects Monsieur de Ternay; dispatching at the same time, and express to Lord Colville, and General Amherst, on the continent, for supplies. England rouz’d, and sending four men of war out, which came two days too late. Lord Colville, Captain Graves, Captain Jarvis, Captain Douglass, and Captain Hallowell coming off St. John’s, and taking a French arm’d schooner, on [page 168] the birth day of Lewis XV. Terney refuses to weigh with a fair wind, and engage them. Lord Colville sending an iron greeting to him, so often as he could conveniently come to the harbour’s mouth. General Amherst rousing the triple union to the war, on the continent, and New England sending her troops to Newfoundland in conjunction with them. Their arrival, and landing, cover’d by the Siren at Torbay, and march thro’ the woods. The French make a stand at Quitty Vitty. Colonel              Amherst advancing on them; the post carried, and Captain Mackenzie kill’d. Animadversions on the rugged, steep, and ambuscaded hill of Lookout; on the summit of which, Monsieur Belcombe was most advantageously posted, with about four hundered of the prime troops of France. The resolution of our forces, growing by sympathy, as the dangers grew. Captain Macdonald, Captain Bailie, and Captain Barron, Lieutenant Schulyer, and Wesson, all supported by Colonel Tullikin, advancing, ascending, attacking, and carrying that important post. The French retreat, and halt; retreat a second time to the garrison. Captain Macdonald mortally wounded: Lieutenant Schulyer shot dead: and Monsieur Belcombe wounded. The battery of our artillery on the garrison; which the French return. Terney’s shameful nocturnal flight; with the surrender of the garrison, prisoners of war. [page 169]






[illustration: A]S when a cock * receives a fatal stroke,

A fractur’d thigh, or else a pinion broke:

So France lay sprawling ’midst her overthrow;

And haughty Spain † had felt the humbling blow;

Who mingled in the war, thro’ very spite,

To show destruction was her sole delight.

   * A cock is us’d very often by writers, as an allusion to France from Gallia, the Latin word for France: sounding somewhat like Gallus, a cock, in Latin.

   † Alluding to the reduction of the Havannah; which happen’d near about the time the French attack’d Newfoundland.

[unnumbered page]

   VEX’D Lewis, plots his credit to retrieve,

Men he can send, if Spain will money give;

Resolv’d the trade of war to carry on,

He borrows treasure of the richer don.

Much like a bankrupt thus behav’d the Gaul,

To save his credit, or to give up all.

   LOSSES of ships, and towns, and isles, encrease;

They gain wou’d fight, yet greatly long for peace:

And now France dares to throw her all at stake,

A conquest of some consequence to make:

This join’d our foes, these two cajoling friends,

To baffle Britain, and obtain their ends.

   AS when two tigers roam the forest wide,

Perchance they have a lion’s cub espy’d;

With hungry maws, the tawny prey they eye,

Yet dread the danger shou’d the fire be nigh;

So these view’d Newfoundland with greedy eyes,

And thought that isle a good peace * making prize:

Long they remain’d in doubt, and anxious hate,

And groan’d with rage in their destructive state;

   * This I am certain was the French plan; for some of the French officers desir’d me not to leave the place; but tarry, and swear allegiance to Lewis XV. for that winter only: for in the spring, they should give it up, when peace was made, as an equivalent for some other places. So I find they took it for granted, they should keep it till peace was made; but of whom they purchas’d the lease of it, or the reasons they had to expect it, it is best known to themselves, for I cannot declare them.

[page 171]

At length they learnt our dreadful fleets were sent,

Far distant from the northern continent.

   AS scrutiny deep masonry makes vain,

So this prime cause will unexplor’d remain:

Who can th’ enigma trace, and well explore,

Why Frenchmen dar’d t’attack the northern shore?

Where is the sage will explanation boast,

Why these who cou’d not well secure their coast,

Shou’d e’er steal out, o’erwhelm’d with sad dismay,

And tempt new dangers in a distant sea?

Cou’d Merlin * reascend, his aid t’impart,

Posses’d, if possible of threefold art;

He’d frankly own he cou’d no reason guess,

At Ne plus ultra wou’d his art confess.

   BUT to proceed; nor grasp at things too high,

Let this digression in oblivion lie.

The French no doubt, (with hopes of conquest fir’d,)

Thought this the time t’obtain their end desir’d.

This coast first blew the kindling flames of war,

This prov’d ‘gainst wish’d for peace the greatest bar;

Wide tracts of land they deem’d an easy prey,

Great part of which they thought defenceless lay:

The nice occasion they wou’d not reject,

The most romantic heart cou’d ne’er expect.

Both Franch and Spain egregiously were crost;

The great lucrative fishery they’d lost:

   * Merlin was an old English inchanter.

[page 172]

This both the pow’rs vehemently desir’d,

For this resesnting rage their bosoms fir’d;

As thirsty trav’lers on Arabia’s plain,

For water long, so long’d both France and Spain,

To seize this great lucrative trade again.

   NOW resolution o’er French fear prevail’d,

Well mann’d, from Brest, four warlike * vessels sail’d:

Near thirteen hundred regulars they bore,

Destin’d at first for Martinico’s * shore:

But hearing Britain’s arms had gain’d the place,

They dar’d not look that danger in the face:

To Newfounland they therefore straightway sped,

The gen’rous Dosohnville these forces led;

The wish’d for shore they unobstructed gain’d,

So Lewis will’d; and mighty fate ordain’d,

To Bay of Bulls they daring steer’d their way,

Tho’ near as Halifax brave Colville lay;

Tho’ Moy’t, and gallant Douglass * shou’d oppose,

They strike no terror in our desp’rate foes.

   * * * The French fleet which sail’d from Brest, consisted of a seventy-four, a sixty-four, a thirty-six, and twenty-six gun ship. The squadron was sommanded by Monsieur De Terney; with about thirteen or fourteen hundred of the prime and veteran troops of France: commanded by the Count Dosohnville, at first design’d to relieve Martinico: but hearing of its surrender to our forces, and fleet, they alter’d their design, and sail’d for Newfoundland.

[page 173]

First, Bay of Bulls * felt rugged Terney’s flame,

From thence, with rage, aginst St. John’s he came:

But Providence can Terney’s wrath controul,

The gen’rous Dosohnville *, (with manly soul,)

Worthy these chosen forces to command,

Advanc’d towards St. John’s across the land:

Several French cohorts * for these troops were drain’d,

They took the place, and we good quarter gain’d.

   WHEN Graves at first, was advertis’d at sea,

St. John’s was made an easy Gallic prey;

   * About a week before Monsieur de Terney, the French admiral, came into the harbour of St. John’s: (of whom as we afterwards learnt, he was coming with a resolution to plunder, burn, and destroy all St. John’s almost, as he had before done at Bay of Bulls, about twenty-sever miles from thence.) I say providentially, about a week before he could come into the harbour, the garrison of St. John’s, surrender’d to the Count Dosohnville, general of the French forces; who had then with him, about eleven hundred very good troops, pick’d from several regiments, which the French themselves own’d, and their different regimentals declar’d. The Count Dosohnville, behav’d like a gallant, and great soul’d conquering enemy; as did many others: namely, Monsieur Bellcombe, Lieutenant-general; Monsieur Mongot, and Lesevre, majors; the Chevalier de Champonet; Monsieur Turin, and Monsieur De Lorme, four captains of Greandiers. All these, with several of the inferior officers, behav’d with complaisance; (and so far as became enemies,) in an amicable, and beneficial manner, to my certain knowledge, to many of the merchants, storekeepers, and superior inhabitants; and to myself, among the rest.

[page 174]

A thirst of honour rouz’d his soul to war,

Worthy the man, and ev’ry British tar:

He scorn’d to flee*; but quick dispatches sent,

Demanding succour from the continent:

Send me supplies; for here will I abide:

(Amherst but heard, and speedily comply’d:)

Placentia gain’d his * chief protecting care,

He moor’d the ship, expecting Terney there;

Resolv’d to check the prosgress of the Gaul,

To win some fame, or gain a glorious fall.

   NO doubt, the French now thought their conquest sure,

And deem’d they’d made all Newfoundland secure:

The lion, couchant, o’er his prostrate prey,

Sated with slaughter, almost dormant lay:

But England rouz’c to save the continent,

And well equipt, four warlike † vessels sent;

   * * When his Excellency Thomas Graves, Esq; governer, and commander in chief, in and over the island of Newfoundland, the coast of Labrador, &c. &c. &c. and commander of his Majesty’s ship Antelope; was advertis’d off at Sea, that the French were in possession of St. John’s, and some other parts; after calling a council of war, he form’d a resolution worthy of himself, and the confidence repos’d in him at home; which was to dispatch an express to General Amherst, and Lord Colville, demanding troops, intending at all events to cover their landing, and in the mean time steer’d for Placentia, where he found the Siren, Captain Douglass, expecting the enemy there; and there he moor’d his ship, and waited the approach of the enemy likewise. But as they did not attack it, we may reasonably conclude, the Antelope being there was the means of its preservation.

   † † These were four men of war sent from England,

[page 175]

Resolv’d they came, with wonted naval glow:

But ne’er engag’d, nor saw the flying † foe.

   NOW came the day the French shou’d fear th’alarms,

Our tars were rouz’d, our soldiers rush’d to arms:

Brave Colville, Graves *, Jarvis, and Douglass rose,

And join’d with British zeal to meet our foes.

They off St. John’s appear’d, with fierce delight,

In hopes they cou’d provoke the French to fight:

The gallant Hallowell * from Boston came,

And join’d these heroes thirsting after fame.

when news arriv’d of the surrender of St. John’s, which arrived just soon enough to congratulate Colonel Amherst, Lord Colville, Captain Graves, &c. on their victory; (it being two days after they retook the place:) and to convince Monsieur Dosohnville, and Terney likewise, (had he staid for conviction,) Britain had naval power enough at home, whenever she chose to send them, to frustrate the Gallic schemes, and dash the aspiring hopes of France.

   * * When the French arriv’d at Bay of Bulls, the Siren, a twenty gun ship, Captain Douglass, lay at Aquafort; a few leauges from thence: who sail’d to Halifax, to acquaint Lord Colville of it, in the Northumberland, a seventy-four gun ship: and they were soon after join’d by the Antelope, a fifty gun ship, Captain Graves; who came out as governor over the island of Newfoundland, and as a convaoy to a fleet bound to St. John’s, &c. but had the good fortune to be advertis’d of it off at sea. It was not long before they were join’d by the Gosport, a forty gun ship, Captain Jarvis; who came as a convoy to a fleet to some part of America. And they were likewise join’d by the King George, from Boston, a twenty-six gun ship, of the

[page 176]

To these, (who now were terrors of the sea,)

An armed Schooner * fell an easy prey:

Jarvis, and Hallowell *, resolv’d advance,

To seize their prey, and rouze the pride of France.

This was the natal day * of Gallia’s king,

That this disgrace might fix the deeper sting.

   THO’ Terney swells with pride, and baffled rage,

He dar’d not weigh with Colville to engage,

Terney within, rejoic’d most safely moor’d;

Our tars without, in dreadful concert roar’d:

Massachusetts colony, commanded by Captain Hallowell. These being once join’d made no delay, but with all possible speed, appear’d off St. John’s, and boldly dar’d the French to battle.

   * * * The sloop in which I sail’d, had leave to depart from St. John’s, this day, (being the twenty-fifth of August; which happen’d to be the birth day of Lewis XV. and just as we weigh’d anchor, we had a fue de joye, or in other words, a general discharge of cannon, and small arms, of the French fleet and garrison:) but in little odds of an hour, (we being scarcely out of gun shot from the fort on the hill,) appear’d in sight, the five ships aforementioned, in chace of an armed French Schooner, sent out, as I suppose, to see we did not go to any other part of the coast. The Northumberland, Antelope, and Siren chac’d us; and the Gosport, and King George, chac’d the Schooner, close into the shore, almost in reach of the guns of two forts in the narrows, and took her; and although the French had then a seventy-four, a sixty-four, a thirty-six, a twenty-six, and the Gramont, a fourteen gun ship, with at least three men to two, and the Northumberland, Antelope, and Siren, were about three leagues distance, and partly fallen to leeward, yet they came not out with that advantage, to attack the Gosport, and King George, so near the harbour’s mouth, and with a fair wind, and brisk gale to go out likewise.

[page 177]

Oft Colville came, on desp’rate war intent,

To Terney oft an iron greeting * sent;

Terney was deaf, and ev’ry naval Gaul,

To Colville’s roar, and glory’s louder call.

Burning for war, our tars almost presume

To rush on fate, and plunge across † the boom,

Tho’ death itself denounces certain doom.

   AT length drew near at hand the dreadful hour,

The French once more shou’d feel Britannia’s pow’r:

Tho’ they escap’d the veng’ance of our tars,

They cannot shun our fearless son of Mars.

With quick dispatch sagacious Amherst ‡ warm’d,

Great Britain’s dreadful triple union arm’d:

   * We remain’d on the coast fourteen days, after sailing from St. John’s; and the people which came from thence, infrom’d us, that Lord Colville, or one of our men of war, work’d up every morning they could to the harbour’s mouth, and fir’d a shot into the harbour, as a defiance; but could not rouze Terney to come out, and engage.

   † There was across the narrow entrance of the harbour, a chain fix’d, about three inches and an half the links in circumference, fasten’d with a new eleven inch cable, and a boom, being three masts, of about twelve or fourteen inches diameter, fasten’d together by transverse crosses of oak on both sides, with large spikes, or bolts; the crosses about six inches square; yet our sailors seem’d anxious to tempt their fate, and rush in the harbour in spite of all opposition, from five batteries, mounted with forty cannon, and five of the enemy’s men of war; for I was on board the Antelope, and observ’d with that desire, all seem’d to with to come to action, as was a merchant in our sloop, on board to Northumberland, and observ’d the same.

   ‡ ‡ ‡ The brave General Amherst, senior of the two brothers,

[page 178]

With rapid speed their troops ‡ New Albion sent,

And emulation rouz’d the continent.


   AMHERST the brave, with martial fury glow’d,

To read the path his gallant brother ‡ trod.

Two Caledonian chiefs *, in battle try’d,

To glory’s goal advanc’d with warlike pride;

With Schuyler * fell, in honour’s bed *, and nobly dy’d.

most worthily renown’d in war, and now cammander in chief of all his Majesty’s forces, on the continent, and there universally belov’d for his courtesy, and easiness of access; so soon as he heard the news of the surprisal of Newfoundland, and knew their numbers, with all imaginable speed, collected the few forces which could be spar’d, which were as follows. The first corps, commanded by Major Sutherland; consisting of the Grenadiers and Light Infantry, of the Royals, and the Light Infantry of Montgomery, and one Battalion Company. The second corps, commanded by Captain Gualy; consisting of five compleat companies of the forty-fifth regiment. The third corps, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Winslow; consisting of four hundred Provincials, belonging to the Massachussetts Bay Government. The fourth corps, commanded by Captain Macdonald, of Fraser’s regiment, consisting of four hundred Provincials, belonging to the Massachusetts Provincials.

   Lieut. Col. Amherst, commader in chief.

   Lieut. Col. Tullikin, second in commad.

   Capt. Campbell, Major of Brigade.

   And Capt. Clarke, Aid de Camp.

   * * * These were Captain Mackenzie, Captain Macdonald, and Lieutenant Schulyer of Macdonald’s Company.

[page 179]

The gallant Winslow *, Barron *, Wesson * live,

T’enjoy the thanks which grateful thousands give;

With all who fought, at honour’s glorious call,

To pluck this island from th’exulting Gaul.

Thus from this northern quarter of the world,

Britannia’s vengeful bolt was fiercely hurl’d:

Small danger from the continent they fear’d,

’Till they th’American loud thunder heard.

   NOW they approach the friendly † hostile shore,

And land amidst the Siren’s ‡ dreadful roar:

Captain Mackenzie receiv’d his mortal wound, attacking, and carrying that important pass at Quitty Vitty; and Captain Macdonald had his leg broken, attacking, and carrying Signal Hill; where Lieutenant Schuyler, taking the command of the company, after Captain Macdonald fell, was shot dead.

   * * * Colonel Winslow, of the Massachusetts Provincials, for his gallantry, and good behaviour, in the reduection of St. John’s, in Newfoundland, receiv’d the thanks of his Excellency, the governor, council, and representatives, at Boston; with a nemine contradicente. Captain Barron, of Concord, and Lieutenant Wesson of Brookline, of his corps, were two officers, which, with the intrepid Captain Macdonald, and Lieutenant Schulyer, first advanc’d, pass’d the French guards, ascended that dangerous hill, above Quitty Vitty, twice attack’d their main guard, or main corps, and drove them headlong to the garrison: about six hundred of pick’d veteran grenadiers of France.

   † Newfoundland was at this time, in possession both of the English and French, and even Torbay in particular, where we landed.

   ‡ The Siren, Captain Douglas, cover’d the landing of our troops, in three divisions. First, Captain Macdonald’s

[page 180]

Thro’ dangers, and defiles, they boldly sped,

(And emulation chac’d desponding dread,)

The French oft skirmish’d, and as oft they fled.

   WITH rocks and trees inclos’d on either hand,

At Quitty Vitty * Frenchmen made a stand:

Amherst drew near t’attack th’advanced guard,

Resolv’d no danger shou’d his march retard:

and Maxwell’d landed; next, Major Sutherland’s, and Captain Gualy’s; and lastly, the Provincials. The French fir’d on the boats, wounded three men; Macdonald’s corps landed, rush’d into the woods, and the French instantly retreated, not waiting for a second fire: our troops had about eight or nine miles to march through the woods, to Quitty Vitty. Captain Macdonald’s Light Infantry advanc’d in front; the enemy harras’d them sometimes, in their march: but were as oft repuls’d, or taken; and our troops still advanc’d, with a firm resolution, towards St. John’s.

   * * * Quitty Vitty is itself a defile, and so surrounded with rocks, trees, hilloks, and small pits in the earth, as renders it by nature tenable against a much superior number, and makes it very fit for a dangerous ambuscade; and this is to be observ’d, the advancing enemy must march a long way, in sight of ambuscaded foe, and expos’d to their fire. Here the French had about thee hundred men station’d; but our light troops, with their wonted intrepidity, began the attack, sustain’d by the main corps, and regulars, and Provincials, full of the ardour they had so often shown, and bought their victory, with the loss of the gallant Captain Mackenzie, who here receiv’d his mortal wound. Lieutenant Fitz Simmons, with a few grenadiers of the Royals, got possession of a hill opposite the enemy, at Quitty Vitty; as did Lieutenant Nowland, with about twenty more of the Royals, take possession of another post

[page 181]

Mackenzie’s soul no terros discompose;

Onward he rush’d * amongst his hidden foes:

Defiance fierce the Caledonians frown’d:

And trod ’midst dang’rous ambuscades around:

The Regulars advanc’d, without dismay,

March’d the same dang’rous, dreadful, glorious way:

Each brave Provincial band th’example fir’d,

All join’d, all fought, and soon the foe retir’d,

A fatal wound, the ball commission’d gave,

And sent Mackenzie to the silent grave.

   ALTHO’ this great important pass was gain’d,

Still unattack’d the rugged hill remain’d;

Such its position, it requir’d no art,

To strike a terror to the boldest heart:

Hills, rocks, and trees, in rude disorder lay,

And ambuscades lin’d all the dang’rous way:

Here fix’d Belcombe *, the resolute, and bold;

This nat’ral fort with chosen troops to hold:

They throng’d by hundreds to this shelt’ring wood,

Their main corps on the rocky summit stood:

But what can shock our dauntless sons of war?

Or Britain’s fourfold resolution bar?

near him: they both were of great use in dislodging the French from that post.

   * Monsieur Belcombe, was Lieutenant General of the French; a bold, enterprising man; a good soldier, had seen a great part of the Canadian war, gain’d much experience, in many skirmishes, and had often fac’d death, and danger; and he had here with him near four hundred of the prime troops.

[page 182]

As dangers rise they seem to grow more warm,

As if they wrought by sympathetic charm.

Of this a desp’rate instance now appear’d,

(Cou’d ne’er by truly said the Britons fear’d;)

With one consent and animated will,

They trod the base of this stupendous hill.

Macdonald * bold the craggy passage gain’d

By Barron *, Schuyler *, Baillie * well sustain’d,

O’er rocks and trees they climb’d scorning base fear,

By Tullikin * supported in the rear.

Gigantic danger † in that entrance frown’d,

Nocturnal terrors throng’d the mountain round,

   * * * * * The attack of the hill was carried on in this manner. Two officers, guards from the first and second corps, one hundred and fifty of Macdonald’s and Barron’s headed by his Lieutenant Wesson likewise, all under the command of Lieutenant Colenel Tullikin. They began to advance at twelve o’clock at night, whilst it rain’d very hard, and render’d the attack still more desperate. Captain Macdonald was in the center, Captain Barron on the right flank, and Lieutenant Schulyer on the left flank, and Captain Bailie likewise headed some of the Royals, Colonel Tullikin commanded in the rear to support the attack.

   † † Our troops made their advances through a very rugged steep and rocky ascent, which was attended with extreme danger, when defended on the top as it was by the French. But Captain Macdonald, Capatain Bailie, Captain Barron, and Lieutenants Schulyer and Wesson, &c. advanc’d upon them with a halloo, in imitation of an Indian whoop, receiv’d their fire several times as they advanc’d and return’d it, advancing on the main corps of the French with fixed bayonets, who fir’d and retreated, ours rush’d on, flew face to face, put them to the rout, and drove them down the hill. Here Captain Macdonald receiv’d a dangerous

[page 183]

A gloomy horror o’er its summit low’r’d,

And down the clouds their liquid † torrents pour’d

A prelude to the storm which over head

Soon after roar’d in pond’rous show’rs of lead.

Still clamb’ring on, they soon the summit gain’d,

Where Belcombe, and his corps, the shock sustain’d:

Ev’n face to face, to charge the French they came,

And onward rush’d in smoke and sulph’rous flame:

Deserted by the bravest of his band,

Not long Belcombe, the furious charge cou’d stand;

He frowning turn’d, and with reluctance fled,

And down the craggy steep he slowly sped;

Lagg’d in the rear*, and tho’ he first gave way,

He oft times begg’d his flying troops to stay:

wound, which prov’d mortal; Lieutenant Schuyler was kill’d, with three or four more; Captain Bailie wounded with eighteen more, and the French General Belcombe was wounded in several places; a captain of the French grenadiers, with many of them kill’d. Here plainly appear’d the intrepidity of our troops; for they had several ambuscades to pass, many posts to carry, and had at last the main corps to dislodge from a superior rocky eminence.

   * * * * Just after the French first gave way, Monsieur Belcombe rally’d them, as well as he could, and made a halt, sustain’d by some, which advanc’d from the garrison; but our troops which had gain’d the summit, (with the same unabated alacrity, and ardour, like eagles after their prey, darted dwon the hill upon them, and roll’d them headlong to the garrison. And as I have several times been in that hill, I know the steepness of its ascent, at some places; the slight root some trees have on the declivity, the looseness of the earth and stones, I am very sensible, five or six hundred men flying in confusion, and the like number

[page 184]

To succour them, fresh Gallic troops advance,

Six hundred of the grenadiers of France;

They halted now *, and seem’d to grow more bold,

But down the hill Britannia’s thunder roll’d,

And in that storm, her thunderbolts of war,

Repell’d the French, and bore down ev’ry bar;

In headlong flight the troops tumultuous grow,

And Gauls, and dislocated rocks *, roll down below.

Towards the fort they fled, but such the place,

’Twas bad to flee, and difficult * to chace.

Macdonald here receiv’d a dang’rous wound,

Lamented fell, with love and honour crown’d.

   THE cohorn batteries were quickly made,

And platforms for the batt’ring cannon laid;

Whence on the garrison their storm they dealt,

The martial shock these bold invaders felt:

Both parties fiercely fought on victory bent,

And murd’ring bombs, and dashing balls were sent:

Our troops upon the French destruction pour’d,

And shot, and shells, in British thurnder show’r’d.

Whilst these on shore engag’d in desp’rate fight,

Terney premeditated shameful flight:

A blust’ring gale had Colville’s purpose crost,

And drove our fleet far distant from the coast:

Silent as death, the mean attempt he made,

By fog befriended, and nocturnal shade;

chacing them, they must rush precipitately over each other, pluck up small trees by the roots, spurn the loose rocks from their places, and men, guns, rocks, and trees, roll promiscuously down together.

[page 185]

With pannic struck, and full of anxious dread,

His cables cut *, and in confusion fled.

Now Dosohnville, grew warm, his troops grew bold,

Their storm against the British forces roll’d:

Altho’ deserted by their dastard tars,

They prov’d themselves true gallant sons of Mars:

For battle Ferguson †, and Godwin burn’d,

And treble interest † to the French return’d:

The bombs by hundreds flew, and British balls,

And to submission † brought these chosen Gauls:

Amherst to them such terms § as conq’ror gave,

Which honour’d Britain’s arms, and British warriors brave.

   * Such was Monsieur Terney’s haste to be gone, that he cut his cables, and left the anchors, and even the boats which tow’d them out; and left likewise, about nine hundred of his troops on shore. The prisoners taken as follows: 1 Col. 1 Lieut. Col. 13 Capt. 13 Lieut. 4 Ensigns, 27 Serj. 45 Corp. 40 Sub-corp. 12 Drummers, and 533 Fuzileers: Total 689, and about 200 lost in the several skirmishes.

   † † † Capt. Ferguson commanded the artillery, and Mr. Godwin was Lieut. of the same; and on Sept. 17 at night, open’d a mortar battery, with one 8 inch mortar, 7 cohorns, and 6 royals. The enemy fir’d briskly from the fort, and threw several shells: but so well was our artillery serv’d, that in a few hours, they sent 300 shells: which with true British rhetoric, peculiar to our artillery, and with cogent arguments, (most aptly suited for conviction) and wrapp’d up in a fiery eloquence, soon convinc’d these polite Gallic gentry it was high time to think of capitulation, left a Caledonian steely argument should be added for farther conviction.

   § The garrison surrender’d on the 18th of Sept. prisoners of war, and to be sent to France.

End of BOOK IX.

[page 186]


BRITAIN’S thunder rolling against Manilla. Some thoughts of exultation, caus’d by reflecting on the gallantry of our troops and tars. Their arrival on the Luconian coast, under the command of Admiral Cornish, and General Draper. The town and garrison summon’d: defiance sent back. The Archbishop Arzpo’s speech, to animate the sodiers and savage Pampangans. Our descent, and raking possession of the Hermita Church, near the town. Five hundred seamen sent on shore, as a battalion, with the Captain Collins, Pitchford, and Ourry. Four hundred Spaniards sally, but are repuls’d precipitately. A second summons sent to the town and garrison: defiance sent back. Mortar and cannon batteries, and platfroms made, to carry on a bombardment and cannonade against them. A flag of truce sent out, to demand the governor’s nephew, which had been taken prisoner; and granted. Lieutenant Fryar, and the Spaniard, murder’d, by a party of Spaniards and Indians, which made a sally at the same time, as they advanc’d toward the town. Our troops rush on them, and give no quarter to the Savages. A storm of wind and rain for two days. Parallels and batteries still going on. The Archbishop perswading the Spaniards and Indians, that our forces [page 187] would be destroy’d by an angel from the Lord, like the host of Sennacherib against Jerusalem. A sally made by a thousand Savages, on the cantonment of the seamen, who receive them bravely and firmly, held them at bay, till break of day, and then by the assistance of Col. Monson and Capt. Fletcher, drove them in confusion before them, and kill’d three hundred. The Spaniards, with some Indians make another sally immediately; but are soon repuls’d with great loss, by Captain Fletcher, and Major Fell. Major Barker’s battery makes a practicable breach. The last general storm of the forts and towns: our troops and tars rushing furiously over the ramparts, forcing their way thro’ blood and carnage, surrounded on every side with danger, and oppos’d by thronging thousands of desperate Spaniards, and Pampangans; yet they, at the same time, mounting on the neck of danger, staring destruction calmly in the face; and like an inundation bearing down all opposition before them. The loss of the gallant Major More, at the Royal Gate, transfix’d by an arrow from a Pampangan bow. Our forces rushing into the grand square, amidst a shower of shot, arrows, and javelins, driving Spaniards and Pampangans before them, headlong into the river; and at length, taking possession of the citadel, forts, and town. [page 188]






[illustration: C]UBA subdu’d, the Spaniards in surprise,

Against Manilla Britain’s thunder flies.

What can preserve the countless wealth of Spain?

What pow’r the shock of Britain’s war sustain?

Our troops, and tars, they wou’d almost presume

To storm a town amidst infernal gloom:

Most fiercely pleas’d on danger’s neck they ride,

And wou’d the triple headed * dog bestride:

Their freeborn valour’s hard to be withstood,

Their triple union never was subdu’d.

   * Cerberus, porter of hell gates, (as the poets say) in the infernal regions.

[unnumbered page]

As of the dread of the Leviathan of old,

So may be said of England’s warriors bold:

Obscur’d their hearts in fight, as northern steel;

No palpitating tremor can they feel:

Who dares to rouze their mighty dormant rage?

What equal number dares in fight t’engage?

By few well equall’d! and o’ermatch’d by none,

In glorious death they smile, and scorn to give a groan.

   CORNISH, and Draper gallantly combine,

To carry on this hazardous design;

Soldiers, and sailors, animated came,

Manilla claim’d in mighty GEORGE’S name:

Arzpo * reply’d, with an indignant frown,

Go, tell the Britons, I’ll defend the town;

Who, (e’er they shall be stiled conq’rors here,)

Must fight their way, and buy their vict’ry dear.

He animates his troops, (on war intent,)

And fierce † Pampanga her ten † thousand sent;

With bows, and lances arm’d they fiercely fought;

(Whose rugged souls ne’er felt a tender thought.)

   * Arzpo, was both archbishop and governor of Manilla, and Captain-general of the Philipines; being a compound of the preacher and warrior.

   † † The following is an extract from Mr. Draper’s letter. Their own garrison of eight hundred men of the Royal Regiment, under the command of the Marquis of Villa Medianna, Brigadier General, was augmented by a body of ten thousand Indians, from the province of Pampanga, a fierce, and barbarous people.

[page 190]

He sent them forth, Manilla’s walls to guard,

Watch our descent, and ev’ry danger ward.

To rouze, their souls to war, bold Arzpo cries,

My fellow countrymen! my good allies!

Now is your time to win immortal fame!

Prove yourselves worthy of a Spaniard’s name;

Compar’d with ours, the British force is * small;

But then remember they have conquer’d Gaul;

Nay more, (with great success their arms to crown,)

Have Cuba seiz’d, and flung the Moro down;

Which we impregnable have ever thought:

(But there Britannia’s dreadful worthies fought!)

As we’ve already heard, they come from far,

With vict’ory flush’d, and much renown’d in war;

Rough hardy troops, and tars, for conquest born,

Whose mighty souls grim death and danger scorn!

With minds serene, they storm each hostile place,

And calmly look destruction in the face!

For this I loud proclaim their martial fame,

To blow Castilian honour into flame!

My friends, and soldiers brave, such honour’s ours,

If we repel these bold invading pow’rs;

Whilst they return with disappointed shame,

We shall stand foremost in the list of fame:

Let me once see their forces overthrown,

What plunder you can seize shall be your own.

But will not this make ev’ry soldier bold,

They come to take your wives, your wealth, your gold!

   * Our whole force for the operation on shore, soldiers, sailors, marines, and auxiliaries, did not amount to twenty-five hundred effective men.

[page 191]

To strip our altars, and perhaps, (with ire,)

To doom our host of saints to flaming fire.

Where shall we kneel? to whom bow down our head?

When all our sacred confidence is fled.

Perchance, so high will rise their hostile spleen,

That they’ll pluck down our sweet cœlestial queen!

And leay her dazzling glory in the dust:

In whom we all confide with firmest trust.

Remember this; and then no more I crave:

Fight to preserve what you already have;

Prove yourselves men, some glorious efforts make!

What Spaniards hold most * dear, is now at stake.

   MEAN while, our soldiers glow’d for desp’rate war,

And emulation rouz’d each British tar.

Tho’ vet’ran Spaniards, horse † and foot appear’d,

Britannia’s sons no threat’ning dangers fear’d:

Tho’ two rough † elements for Spain engag’d,

Tho’ wind and water, in a tempest rag’d;

Altho’ by waves the † boats on shore were thrown,

In pieces dash’d, their powder useless grown;

   * Wives, gold, &c.

   † † † The frigates; Argo, Captain King; Seahorse, Captain Grant, and Seaford, Captain Peighin, cover’d the descent. The center division of the boats for the operation on shore, was commanded by General Draper; with Lieutenant Colonel Scott, Adjutant General. The right, by Major More, and the left, by Colonel Monson, Quartermaster-general, but from the ships to the shore, they were under the prudent and skilful guidance of Captain Parker

[page 192]

Tho’ fierce Pampangans lin’d the swarthy shore,

They land in flame, and Britain’s naval roar.

They form’d, and onward march’d, in firm array,

And seiz’d a sort * which near Manilla lay:

Advancing still towards the destin’d place,

They fix’d their posts within a nearer * space.

   FIVE hundred gallant † tars, under command,

Of Collins, Pitchford, Ourry, speed to land,

Quick metamorphos’d, (with a vast delight,)

Soldiers commenc’d, at any rate to fight.

A sally now four hundred Spaniards made,

And on our flank began a cannonade;

Monson and Carty, full of courage rose,

And ran to battle with our Spanish foes,

of the Grafton; Mr. Kempenfelt, the Admiral’s Captain, and Captain Brereton of the Falmouth. The enemy assembled in great numbers, both horse and foot, to oppose the descent; but a brisk fire from the frigates made them disperse; yet at the time of landing, a violent surf arising, many boats were dash’d to pieces, and the arms and ammunition much damag’d.

   * * They first took possession of the Malata, next seiz’d a fort the Spaniards had abandon’d. Next Colonel Monson with two hundred took possession of the Hermita Church, about nine hundred yards from the city.

   † These were a battalion of seamen, commanded by Captain Collins of the Weymouth, Captain Pitchford of the America, and Captain Gearge Ourry of the Panther: and were of great service in the siege as land forces, and much accelerated of the place.

[page 193]

Who almost fled e’er well the fight began,

With headlong * flight back to Manilla ran.

   A FLAG of truce, a second summons bore;

Arzpo reply’d as bravely as before,

Who gains this place, most fiercely must contend;

I’ll to the last Manilla’s walls defend:

Numbers they had to fight, nor wanted will,

Only deficient prov’d in warlike skill.

As they resolv’d to stand a cannonade,

Our troops, and tars, a preparation made;

With ardour fir’d, incessantly they toil’d,

Tho’ inundations oft their labour spoil’d:

Mortar and cannon batteries they form’d,

From whence the town and garrison they storm’d.

   AT Arzpo’s wish, the British batt’ries † cease,

And grant the Spaniards intermitting peace;

Cornish consents his nephew † to restore,

And straightway sends his pris’ner to the shore:

As Fryar with the gallant ‡ youth drew near

Manilla’s walls, the Spanish foes appear,

   * * Colonel Monson advanc’d against them, with three picquets of the seventy-ninth regiment, and an hundred seamen, to support Ensign Carty, who had already begun the skirmish, with some Seapoys under his command. The Spaniards fled so precipitately, that they left one of their field pieces on the glacis.

   † † The governor sent out a flag of truce, to apologize for some barbarities commited by the Savages, who had murder’d some straggling seamen; and to request, that a nephew of his, taken in the bay, might be set on shore; which request Admiral Cornish comply’d with.

   ‡ ‡ ‡ I call him the gallant youth, as he was mortally

[page 194]

With Indians mix’d, (the barb’rous of Spain,)

Who treat the flag of truce with rough disdain:

By these inhuman slaves, (inspir’d from hell,)

The Spaniard, and the luckless ‡ Fryar fell;

Fiercely our troops advanc’d, in firm array,

And treated them as savage beasts of prey,

With carnage great, reveng’d their overthrow,

And spurn’d these fiends ‡ incarnate to the shades below.

   NOW rains descend, the lakes to torrents grew,

The sea ran high, a blust’ring * tempest blew,

Amidst the rain, and roaring of the storm,

Our forces * parallels and batt’ries form,

Our seamen *, with their wonted vigour wrought,

And heavy cannon to the batt’ries brought.

wounded in endeavouring to save the General’s secretary, Lieutenant Fryar: and by that means lost his life. Our party bravely receiv’d their onset, and repuls’d them; for it was a large party of Spaniards, and Indians, which then unluckily sally’d out, to attack our second post. The Barbarians did not respect Lieutenant Fryar’s character, as a flag of truce, (held sacred, by the most savage, beside themselves,) but most inhumanely murder’d him, and mangled his body in a manner too shocking to mention. As it was evident, that the Indians alone were guilty of this horrid piece of barbarity, our soldiers shew’d them no mercy.

   * * * Oct. 1. and 2. the weather grew to tempestuous, that the whole squadron was in danger, and all communication with it, (for near three days,) was cut off: the South Sea Castle storeship parted her cables, and drove on shore: but was even there of great use, for Capt. Sherwood enfiladed the whole sea beach to the southward, and kept in

[page 195]

   TO rouze his troops, and make his Indians bold,

The governor * a tale delusive told,

A mighty * angel was from heav’n come down,

To stay our troops, and save the threaten’d town;

For this sole end, the dreadful storm he rais’d,

That angry justice might be well appeas’d:

Nay shou’d this fail, their sins for veng’ance call,

By pestilence, they’ll like th’ * Assyrians fall.

But who can paint their wonder, and dismay!

When Britain’s fleet at anchor safely lay,

And Draper’s cannon roar’d with awful noise,

No Pestilence in England’s camp destroys!

   BY rage inspir’d, and disappointed shame,

Against our tars, the rough Barbarians came.

awe a large body of Indians, who menac’d the Polverista, and our magazines at the Malata. Amidst the deluge of rain, and the storm of the wind, the troops, and seamen, compleated a battery for the twenty-four pounders, and rais’d a mortar battery for the heavy shells, of ten, and thirteen inches; made a good parallel, and communication from the church to the gun battery; and establish’d a spacious place of arms on the left of it, near the sea. The roaring of the waves and wind, prevented the enemy from hearing the noise of our workmen in the night. They gave our people no interruption; but (as the weather was so very turbulent,) they seem’d to trust entirely to the elements in such a combustion. Vide General Draper’s Letter.

   * * * The governor, who was the archbishop, gave out, that an angel from the Lord, was gone forth to destroy our forces, like the host of Sennacherib. Those who do not know already the meaning of this expression, may read, (if

[page 196]

Unstable as the waves on which they ride,

Unsettled as the briny rolling tide;

Tho’ bred in tempest, nurs’d in blust’ring storm,

Firm as the Grecian phalanx, straight they form.

On rush’d the Savages * to closest fight,

Of numbers proud, exulting in their might:

The Savage shock, unbroken *, they withstood,

Fix’d as their native oaks in Britain’s wood:

Three hours *, old England’s animated tars,

Strove hard t’outvie Britainnia’s sons of Mars:

As day advanc’d, and warm th’encounter grew,

Monson, and * Fletcher, to the battle flew;

With barb’rous rage, the Savages advance,

Each sends his shafts, and wields a pond’rous lance:

A desp’rate battle, now afresh began,

Front clos’d with front, man stood oppos’d to man;

they will trouble the Bible so much,) the whole account of Sennacherib’s expedition against Jerusalem, in the thirty-seventh chapter of the book of Isaiah.

   * * * * About three hours before day, ten thousand Indians attack’d the cantonement of the seamen. They were encourag’d to this attempt, by the incessant rains, expecting our fire arms would be useless. Their approach was favour’d by a great number of thick bushes, which grew upon the side of a rivulet, which they pass’d in the night, and by keeping close, eluded the vigilance of the patroles. Upon the alarm, Colonel Monson, and Captain Fletcher, were dispatch’d with the Picquets, to the assistance of the seamen, who stood firm in their posts, and were contended to repulse them, till day-break, when a fresh Picquet from the seventy-ninth regiment appearing on the right flank of Indians, they fled, and were pursu’d, losing three hundred of their men. Although arm’d chiefly with bows, arrows,

[page 197]

Freedom, and slavery, oppos’d, engage,

For vict’ry tug, with emulating rage:

Pampanga’s sons their deadly lances threw,

Dy’d on the bay’nets, and their conq’rors slew:

Thro’ Britain’s ranks, a rough resentment spread,

Onward they sprang o’er growing heaps of dead;

Vex’d to be bay’d, our tars with rough disdain,

Drove o’er their foes, in tumult thro’ the plain.

   E’ER yet the * victors from the chace return’d,

With indignation fierce, the Spaniards burn’d,

With Savages, they straight a party form’d,

Rush’d from their walls, another * quarter storm’d:

The sudden onset some advantage brought,

Our troops * retir’d, and in confusion fought:

But soon collected, in a firm array,

The fac’d the storm, and held their foes at bay;

and lances, they advanc’d up to the very muzzles of our pieces, repeated their assaults, and died like wild beasts, gnawing the bayonets.

   * * * Our forces had scarce recover’d breath, when another body of the Indians, with part of the Spanish garrison, attack’d the church, No. 2. forc’d the Seapoys from their post, in it, took possession of the top, kill’d, and wounded several of our people. The European soldiers maintain’d their post behind the church, with great firmness, and patience, and at last dislodg’d the enemy, with the assistance of some field pieces, and the good conduct of Major Fell, field officer of the day; Captain Fletcher, and other brave officers, sent to their relief. We lost in the two attacks, Mr. Porter, Lieutenant of the Norfolk, and Capain Strahan, of the seventy-ninth regiment, and about fifty men kill’d and wounded. The Spaniards left about three hundred and seventy dead behind them.

[page 198]

Fletcher, and Fell, to their assistance throng,

And Britain’s brazen thunder roll’d along;

Full on th’ assailing troops its fury fell,

And silenc’d soon the fierce Pampangan yell:

A cold dismay thro’ ev’ry bosom spread,

They wheel’d, retreated, broke, and trembling fled:

Pampanga’s thousands * fled the British rage,

Sculk’d to their woods, nor dar’d again t’engage.

   BARKER, incessant batt’ring bullets sent,

And thro’ their walls a rugged passage rent;

And now in turn, the British forces form,

To mount the breach, and give a general storm.

Russel †, in front, intrepidly appears,

Who led on sixty British volunteers:

Next, More’s † and Monson’s troops, in firm array,

To share the fame, and danger of the day;

   * This was the last sally, and most of their Indians being discourag’d by their losses, return’d home; and there remain’d with the Spaniards about eighteen hundred, or two thousand of them.

   † † † † Lieutenant Russel of the seventy-ninth regiment, led the way to this attack, with sixty volunteers; supported by the grenadiers of that regiment. The engineers, with the pioneers, and other workmen, follow’d, to make lodgments, should the enemy be strongly intrench’d in the gorge of the bastion. Colonel Monson, and Major More, were at the head of two grand divisions of the seventy-ninth regiment, and the company’s troops clos’d the rear. The wind blew directly upon the town, and they all rush’d on to the assault, under cover of a thick smoke, occasion’d

[page 199]

Next these, our new form’d naval † troops appear,

Alert with spirit, ignorant of fear,

Whom no impediment can scarce restrain,

From rushing foremost on the sons of Spain.

And in their rear, drawn up in order strong,

Mercantile † troops to battle march’d along:

Like light’ning, from a cloud of English smoke,

With sudden fury on the forts they broke;

With mighty rage, bore all resistance down,

And rush’d impetuous thro’ the stubborn town:

For blood, and slaughter, ev’ry bosom rag’d,

Spurr’d by despair, the Spanish troops engag’d;

Britannia’s troops, and tars, with fixed thought,

For England’s fame, and warlike honour fought:

Pikemen * ’gainst lancemen †, in the battle drove,

With fierce disdain, for bloody vict’ry strove:

Bay’nets ’gainst bay’nets, in rough skirmish clos’d,

With hostile pride, each other firm oppos’d:

Archers and fuzileers together met,

Bespatter’d o’er with blood, and dust, and sweat;

The gallant More ‡ receiv’d a fatal blow,

Sent from the string of a Pampangan bow:

Our tars rush’d on, in wonted disarray,

Thro’ Spaniards and Pampangans hew’d their way!

by a general discharge of our cannon, and mortars: which was the signal for the attack. They all mounted the breach, with amazing spirit and rapidity.

   * The English officers.

   † Spanish Pampangan auxiliaries.

   ‡ Major More was transfix’d by an arrow, from an Indian bow, near the Royal Gate.

[page 200]

From lofty domes, in rich Manilla’s town,

Shot, arrows, lances, in a show’r came down:

Across the streets, the vet’ran Spaniards form’d,

And slow retreated, as the Britons storm’d,

Who drove the Spaniards, and their Savage slaves,

From Terra firma, to their wat’ry graves;

They could not bear the glitt’ring steely gleam;

But hid their heads * beneath the rapid stream.

To sue for peace, Arzpo at length inclin’d,

The citadel, and forts, to GEORGE the Third resign’d.

   * The greatest resistance they met, was at the Royal Gate, and from the galleries of the lofty houses, round the grand square. They put an hundred of the Spaniards and Indians to the sword, who would not surrender, in the guard house over the Royal Gate, and drove about three hundred more into the river, which was deep, and rapid, who were drown’d in attempting to cross it. The governor, and principal officers retir’d to the citadel: but surrender’d as prisoners at discretion; and to pay four millions of dollars, as a ransom for the whole place; two millions to be paid immediately, and the other half, in the time agreed upon. Captain Dupont of the seventy-ninth regiment with an hundred men, took possession of the citadel.

End of BOOK X.

[page 201]


A Satyrical, exulting Address to Lewis

     Le Grand; alias Le Petit; on the

     Loss of his Ships, Forts, Towns, and

     Islands, &c. in the two wars.


COME Clio, sweet muse!

Let’s sing as we use,

        And the victories naval repeat;

How Boscawen, and Hawke,

Did the French Monarque baulk,

        And his schemes of invasion defeat!

Brave Boys, &c.


Let us mention ’em all,

That e’er fought against Gaul;

        Or else of their conquests let’s sing;

And merrily reckon,

The ships they have taken,

        Which fight now for Great Britain’s King.

Brave Boys.

[page 202]


Now Lewis! thou’rt vext,

Nonplus’d, and perplext!

        And fret’st like a man in a bog!

For thy ill fate prevails!

And thy confidence fails!

        I mean in the Don (a), and the Frog (b).

Brave Boys.


The two (c) Brothers royal,

Opposers destroy all;

        And (d) Brunswick, and Edward (d) are arm’d;

The black (e) Eagle, and (f) Lion,

Their prey fiercely fly on,

        And France and her friends are alarm’d!

Brave Boys.


Tho’ the Gauls call thee great,

How wilt thou shun fate?

        (Which threatens,) deserted by (g) Mars!

   (a) The Spaniards.

   (b) The Dutch.

   (c) Frederick III. King of Prussia; and Prince Henry, Hereditary Prince of Prussia.

   (d) (d) George the Third, King of Great Britain: and His Royal Highness, Prince Edward.

   (e) The black Eagle, is the Prussian arms.

   (f) The Lion, being the Hieroglyphick for Great Britain, and sometimes for the King, I take the liberty to call our troops, and tars, the Lion.

   (g) Le Mars, a seventy-four gun ship, we took: and Mars is call’d among the ancient poets, the God of Battle.

[page 203]

From thee he is torn;

And thy (h) Di’monds are worn,

        By the British brave resolute tars!

Brave Boys.


Thee, thy (i) Panther assails,

And with teeth, and with nails,

        ’Tis Lewis he now will affright!

The mastiffs of Britain,

Most fiercely he set on,

        And found ’em superior in might.

Brave Boys.


I need not repeat,

Th’ (k) Invincible’s beat!

        Thou know’st it already full well:

Thy pride must come down,

For GEORGE has thy (l) Renown!

        A true tale most unpleasing I tell.

Brave Boys.

   (h) Le Diamond, L’Escarboucle, Le Rubie, L’Emerauld, four French men of war, we took.

   (i) A French man of war, we took.

   (k) L’Invincible, taken by us, which means, The Unconquerable.

   (l) Le Renomme, a French man of war, taken; and in English, Renown.

[page 204]


Le (m) Fidele, from thy coast,

And thy service is lost;

        And inveterate enemy’s grown:

Thee the (n) Hornet did sting,

And then stretch’d on full wing,

        With disdain, to Old England is flown.

Brave Boys.


Thy (o) Neptune chang’d tides,

And to Great Britain glides!

        And (p) Severn roll’d back to his course:

They may roll back once more,

To sweep all the French shore,

        And make a bad matter much worse.

Brave Boys.


For Brunswick our King,

Thy (q) Merc’ry’s on wing,

        Commission’d to scour Gallic shores:

   (m) Le Fidele, taken, in English, The Faithful.

   (n)  The Hornet, took from us, and retaken.

   (o)  Le Neptune, a seventy-four gun ship, and the old poets call Neptune God of the Sea.

   (p)  The Severn took from us, and re-taken: and Severn is the name of a large river in England.

   (q)  The Mercury, a French ship of war, taken: and Mercury is call’d the winged messenger of the gods.

[page 205]

L’Ardent (r) ‘gainst thee turns,

And with English rage burns,

        From Great Britain’s Ordonance stores.

Brave Boys.


Le (s) Bienfaicant too,

Does thy subjects pursue,

        And all his good actions thou’st lost:

If e’er he shou’d chance,

To revisit old France,

        He’ll fulminate thro’ the French coast!

Brave Boys.

Thy (t) Subtil knock’d under,

To rhet’ric like thunder,

        Pour’d forth in a convincing tone,

Thus nonplus’d he stood,

His reasons not good,

         To a nihil plus ultra brought down.

Brave Boys.


With a fierce mortal sting,

For great Britain’s King,

        Hermione’s (u) ready t’engage;

   (r)  L’Ardent, taken; in English, Hot, fiery, burning, &c.

   (s)  Le Bienfaicant, a French ship of war, taken; in English, the Well Doer.

   (t)  The Subtil, was a French ship of war, taken.

   (u) L’Hermione, a French ship of war, taken: and the poets say, Hermione was turn’d to a serpent. Vide Ovid’s Metamorphosis.

[page 206]

She’ll great mischief hatch,

If she meets a fit match,
       And hiss with a serpentine rage!

Brave Boys.


Recall thy ships sent,

From the green element,

        Great GEORGE on the main will command:

The Fierce, (x), Neptune (x), is warm’d,

And is Terribly (x) arm’d,

        With Le (x) Trident, to shake Gallic land!

Brave Boys.


Observe me, and mark it;

We’ve (y) Monmouth, and Carkett,

        Who roughly with Foudroyant dealt:

Against three ships of France,

Tyrrel (z) dar’d to advance,

        And that the French Florissant felt.

Brave Boys.

   (x) (x) (x) (x) Le Fougoux, Le Neptune, Le Terrible, and Le Trident. In English, the Fierce, Neptune, Terrible, and Trident: four French ships of war, taken by us, of sixty-four and seventy-four guns: and the Trident is Neptune’s symbol, or mark, of his being sovereign of the sea.

   (y) Lieutenant Carkett, in the Monmouth, a sixty-four gun ship, bravely maintain’d the fight, against the Foudroyant, an eighty-four gun ship: (after the gallant, and much lamented Captain Gardner fell 🙂 and continu’d to fight her till she struck.

   (z) The gallant Captain Tyrrel, in the Buckingham,

[page 207]


As well thou may’st smile,

As frown on our Isle,

        We have Vigilant (a) friends along shore!

Our well aiming tars draw,

Thy Cœlestial (b) bright Bow,

        And drench their shafts deep in French gore.

Brave Boys.



THIS declares thy small worth,

When thy (c) Thunder rush’d forth,

        And fiercely thy French (c) Light’ning burn’d!

To meet thine England’s slew,

And her bolts Monmouth threw,

        And the claps and the flashes return’d!

Brave Boys.

fought the Florissant, an eighty-four, or seventy-four gun ship, and two frigates, and made all sheer off, and had like to have taken the Florissant.

   (a) Le Vigilant, taken; in English, Watchful

   (b) L’Arcenceil, taken; in English, Bow in Heaven, or Rainbow.

   (c) (c) Le Foudroyant; in English, Thunder, and Lightening, or Thundring, and Lightning; an eighty-four gun ship, with whom the Monmouth engag’d, and silenc’d.

[page 208]


Thou no longer canst boast,

For thy Foudroyant’s lost,

        At which ev’ry hearer will wonder!

His bolts flew no more,

He ceas’d flashes and roar,

        And tacitly heard Monmouth thunder!

Brave Boys.


When we wou’d raze a town,

Pull thy strong bulwarks down,

        Or Gallia’s thinn’d navy wou’d rend,

From Great Britain’s stor’d,

With her thunder on board,

        Thy own Foudroyant we can send.

Brave Boys.


With Great Britain’s tars mann’d,

Against him who’ll stand!

        Whilst Albion’s loud thunder he rolls:

He’ll affright Gallic tars,

And with deep thunder scars,

        He’ll rive, and confound all their souls!

Brave Boys.


Tho’ in France thou art king,

Like a bee without sting,

        Thy humming will nothing avail; [page 209]

Lewis! look to thy throne;

Let the Lion alone,

        Nor catch any more at his tail.

Brave Boys.


Whilst Scothmen can wield

Their broad swords in the field,

        By Hibernians, and English sustain’d;

The triple alliance,

May bid thee defiance,

        And the Lion will never be chain’d.

Brave Boys.


Le Soleil (d), and L’Etoile (e),

Were put to the soil,

        And comet-like vanish’d in blaze!

Thy scheme nought avail’d,

For thy (f) ambuscade fail’d,

        And submitted in pannic amaze!

Brave Boys.

   (d) Le Soleil; in English, the Royal Sun: the ship Monsieur Conflans commanded, in Quiberon-Bay; where she ran aground before Admiral Hawke, and was afterward burnt.

   (e) L’Etoile; in English, a Star; blown up in an engagement.

   (f)  The Ambuscade, a French man of war, taken by us.

[page 210]


Thy (g) Ocean is burn’d,

The French Grand (h) Monarque’s turn’d

        To a friend, and our ally is grown!

Le (i) Volant to GEORGE flew,

With balls, powder, bombs too!

        All this we may (k) modestly own.

Brave Boys.


Such disasters as these,

If thou’lt still use the seas,

        O’er thy navy confounded will roll;

Tho’ thy troubles are great,

I’ve much more to repeat,

        Altho’ it cuts deep as the soul.

Brave Boys.

   (g) The ship Ocean, Monsieur De Clue commanded, driven on shore, by Admiral Boscawen, in Lagos Bay, and burnt.

   (h) Le Monarque, a French man of war, taken.

   (i)  Le Volant; in English, the Flyer, or to that purport; a French man of war, taken; bound to Louisbourg, with powder, bombs, and balls.

   (k) La Modeste, taken by Admiral Boscawen, in Lagos Bay.

[page 211]


We’ve sunk thy Bien (l) Aime,

Thy stout (m) Magnanime,

        A foe (n) Formidable is grown!

When Neptune shall roar,

With Mars on thy shore,

        His terrible voice shall be known!

 Brave Boys.


Danae, once, we are told,

Had a show’r (o) of bright gold;

        But worse to thy Danae did hap:

The two (p) Frigates did pour,

An unwelcome hard show’r

        Of iron balls, into her lap.

Brave Boys.

   (l)   Admiral Pocock, in the East Indies, drove the Bien Aime on shore, in one of the three engagements, in which Monsieur Dache fled from him.

   (m) Le Magnanime, a French man of war, of seventy-four guns, taken.

   (n)  Le Formidable, the French Rear Admiral; taken by Captain Speke, in the Resolution, in Quiberon-Bay.

   (o)  The poets say, Jove descended in a shower of gold into Danae’s lap, where she was confin’d in a tower; we took the Danae.

   (p)  The Melampe, and Southampton, engag’d the Danae, and took her.

[page 212]


L’Orphee (q) dins thine ears,

And with dread fragors scares,

        Sent forth from his loud brazen lungs;

In dissonant strains,

Thy hearing he pains,

        With sixty (q) four troublesome tongues.

Brave Boys.


Cou’d he possible wait,

On a night at thy gate,

        To serenade (r) Pompee, and thee;

Such a strain wou’d he play,

In the old English way,

        As wou’d damp all the frolicksome glee.

Brave Boys.



LEWIS! look to thy shore,

For the Wolf’s (s) at the door!

        The black (t) Eagle’s watching for prey!

   (q) (q)  L’Orphee, a sixty-four gun man of war, which mounted some brass cannon; taken at the same time with the Foudroyant. The English name is Orpheus; accounted by the ancient poets, a great master of musick; and celebrated accordingly.

   (r) Madam Pompadour, the French king’s mistress.

   (s)  When I first wrote this, General Wolfe was living; and it is a usual saying, when danger’s nigh, The wolf’s at the door.

   (t)  The Black Eagle, is the Prussian arms.

[page 213]

Let thy navy all ride,

The strong forts along side,

       And send ’em no more out at sea:

Brave Boys.


For Old England can boast

Of a Hawke on her coast,

        From whom the French cocks frighted run;

He stretch’d out his wing,

For Great Britain’s King,

        Eclipsed the bright Gallic (u) Sun.

Brave Boys.


Tho’ (x) Superbe rashly came,

To supply with his flame,

        ’Twixt Hawke, and Le Soleil was seen;

Hawke beak’d at the foe,

And rose to the blow,

        And flung him upon a careen.

Brave Boys.


The next beak he gave,

To a deep wat’ry grave

        He sent French (x) Magnificence down;

   (u) Le Soleil Royal: in English, the Royal Sun; the ship Monsieur Conflans commanded; which stood about one or two broadsides from Admiral Hawke, ran ashore, and was afterwards burnt.

   (x) (x) Le Superbe, a French seventy-four gun ship,

[page 214]

In mighty dismay,

Conflans quickly gave way,

        And trembled when Hawke gave a frown!

Brave Boys.


That Tonant (y) was mute,

Amidst the dispute,

        There’s no room remains for a wonder.

Carkett (y) sometime before,

On Hispania’s shore,

        Had seiz’d both his Lightning and Thunder.

Brave Boys.


As De Clue, once before,

On the Portugue shore,

        Fled away from the Brave Boscawen,

Like a terrify’d brood,

Of chickens pursu’d,

When a Hawk souses near,

So they scatter’d in fear,

        And flutter’d up thro’ the Villaine!

Brave Boys.

which bore down gallantly between the two Admirals, to take the Royal George’s fire; and which ship, Admiral Hawke sunk at two broadsides. The name in English is Magnificence, or Magnificent.

   (y) (y) Le Tonant; in English, the Thunderer, or Thundering, was in Quiberon-Bay and ran away; and a Thunderer, without his thunder and lightning, makes a pitiful figure. Lieutenant Carkett, commanded the Monmouth, after Captain Gardner fell, and took the Foudroyant.

[page 215]


On Great Britain’s dread coast,

What was warlike (z), thou’st lost,

        ’Twill be hard to recover again;

For thy Belliqueux, much terrify’d grew!

When he met the mishap, to rush into a trap,

        And was caught in the fierce Lion’s (a) den!

Brave Boys.


The old Lion roars,

And along the French shores,

        He sends out his cubs for their prey:

Thy ships once again,

They’ll drive to Villaine,

        And sweep uncountrol’d o’er the sea!

Brave Boys.


In the midst of the wars,

Our fierce rough handed tars,

         Seize’d thy (b) delicate (c) Nymphs of the grove:

   (z) The Belliqueux: in English, the Warlike; a French sixty-four gun ship, was taken by the Antelope, when Admiral Hawke had chac’d and dispers’d the French fleet off at sea; and the Belliqueux came to anchor under the Isle of Lundy, near the mouth of Bristol channel.

   (a) As the Lion is the Hieroglyphick for England, I call the coast of England, the Lion’s den.

   (b) La Mignone, a French man of war, taken: in English, the Delicate.

   (c) La Diana, a Silvan goddess; and a French man of war, call’d the Nymph, taken.

[page 216]

In thy (d) Chariot they ride,

O’er the green briny tide,

        By the north (e) wind, and (f) Bellona drove.

Brave Boys.


That e’er thou should’st scheme,

And of conquest should’st dream,

        By invasion so late in the season;

There’s no room for surprize,

For here all the truth lies,

        Thou’st lost thy (g) dear (g) Prudence and (g) Reason!

Brave Boys.


With a resolute mein,

And a martial disdain,

        Like clouds that were loaded with thunder!

Our fleet bore on thine,

And disorder’d their line,

        And scatter’d ’em widely asunder!

Brave Boys.

   (d) A French man of war, call’d the Royal Chariot, taken.

   (e) L’Aquillon, in English, the North wind.

   (f)  La Bellona, goddess of war; and Bellona, with the North Wind, may be properly used, to say they drive our fearless, matchless tars to battle.

   (g) (g) (g) La Chere, Prudent, and Raisonnable; three ships of war taken. In English, Dear, Prudent, and Reasonable, or to that purpose.

[page 217]


Thy (h) Rose hung its head,

Thy King’s (i) Fisher’s fled;

        From the stalk thy white (k) Lilly is torn!

(l) Renowned, Apollo (m),

With (n) Garlands did follow,

        Our heroic brave tars to adorn!

Brave Boys.


We’ve a Pitt most profound!

Where thy policy’s drown’d:

        There sunk all thy towns, forts, and isles!

He long’d for such plenty,

He swallow’d up (o) Twenty!

        Whilst Britain victoriously smiles!

Brave Boys.


I’ve no more to say,

Than in Quiberon Bay,

        Cape Breton, Lagos, and the Streights;

   (h) A French ship of war, taken.

   (i)  Halcyon, taken, in English, King’s Fisher.

   (k) Le Lis, taken; in English, Flower-de-Luce.

   (l)  Le Celebre, taken; in English, the Renowned.

   (m) A French ship of war, taken, call’d Apollo.

   (n)  A French ship of war, taken, call’d the Garland.

   (o)  During the successful administration of the Right Honourable,

[page 218]

South, East, North, and West,

Thy Flag (p) we’ve deprest;

        Sunk, taken, and burnt all thy fleets!

Brave Boys.


A Comic Narration,

Of the Troubles of LEWIS XV.


YE lovers of mirth, dreadful terrors of Gaul!

I’ll do my endeavour to pleasure you all:

I hope naval heroes, and heroes terrene,

Will give an applause to my comical strain.

     Derry down, down, down, derry down.

sagacious, and resolved Patriot, WILLIAM PITT, Esq; Great Britain made no less than twenty conquests, of forts, towns, and islands, and during his administration, (to Great Britain’s, Hawke’s, Boscawen’s, Elliot’s, and his own great honour) Conflans, De Clue, and Thurot were defeated.

   (p) L’Oriflamme, sunk on the coast of Spain by the Monarque and Montague; in English, the Royal Banner of France.

[page 219]


I sing truth, pleasing truth! tho’ the wit scanty be,

Of Lewis Le Grand, alias Le Petit,

Who coveted greatly to wear England’s crown,

But found himelf baffled, and fear’d for his own.

Derry, &c.


In seventeen hundred and fifty five,

The rancour of Gaul began to revive;

Proud Lewis the fifteenth, with jealousy stung,

Thought England had rested from trouble too long.

Derry, &c.


He marshal’d his armies, his navy he mann’d:

(Pompadour, at Paris mighty projects had plann’d)

But before Port-Mahon was took by the Gauls,

Ten thousand besiegers lay dead round the walls.

Derry, &c.


All America next, he fain wou’d enjoy,

Gauls, Indians, Canadians, the Britons destroy;

They ripp’d mothers up, dash’d out weak infants brains,

But Englishmen rouz’d, and repaid all their pains.

Derry, &c.

[page 220]


The conquest of England next Lewis design’d,

And his fleet, and his troops, together combin’d;

From different ports to Great Britain they steer;

But thanks to our tars, they cou’d never come there!

Derry, &c.


Now GEORGE, mighty GEORGE, issu’d out war’s commands;

Next him, like Mount Atlas, great Pitt firmly stands;

Well fix’d on a Legge; tho’ the world shou’d assail,

His basis was sure, and they cou’d not prevail.

Derry, &c.


These three, worthy three, first our rescue design’d;

When to ruin we ran, to our danger quite blind;

They saw our distress, and they giant-like rose;

Pluck’d the nation from fears, and the hands of our foes.

Derry, &c.


With these rose a band of true patriots brave,

Inspir’d with a zeal their poor country to save; [page 221]

Whose names Boscawen, Hawke, and Saunders we call,

Ligonier, Wolfe; and Amherst, the terrors of Gaul.

Derry, &c.


With these, (as if fir’d with one soul from above,)

The nobles, the commons, unanimous strove;

The sons of Great Britain, to battle arose,

Rush’d on like a flood, and bore down all their foes.

Derry, &c.


Now Pitt, for our champion we happily chose,

An impregnable bulwark against all our foes;

With fortitude, honour, and justice array’d,

Proud Gallia beholds him, and trembles dismay’d.

Derry, &c.



OUR tars, and our troops, now rouz’d to the fight,

And put the French nation in terrible fright!

Now Louisbourg fell, and Cherburg likewise;

French fleets at St. Maloes, in smoke mount the skies; [page 222]

This Edward the brave, Howe, and Marlbro’ perform’d;

Boscawen, Wolfe, Amherst, strong Louisbourg storm’d.

Derry, &c.


Amherst, Johnson, and Forbes, in th’American war,

Conquer’d Crown Point, Du Quesne, and Fort Niagar;

With these Rogers join’d, and thro’ woods, and defiles,

They march’d on victorious, in spite of French wiles.

Derry, &c.


Bradstreet, Winslow, and Schomberg, resolved advance,

And with them united ’gainst troublesome France;

Drove Indians, and Gauls, each fortress they took,

From the river Ohio, to Delaware’s brook.

Derry, &c.


At Guadaloup, Senegal, and the places around,

Draper, Barrington, Clive, with conquest were crown’d,

In Afric no one to oppose ’em was found,

And Keppel in thunder, beat Goree to ground.

Derry, &c.

[page 223]


Next Rodney bombarded poor Havre de Grace,

And the flat-bottom’d boats topside turvy did place;

The project fine spun, of invasion, he broke;

Ramm’d their schemes down their throats, cloath’d in vapour and smoke.

Derry, &c.


We’ve Granby at Hanover, Granby the brave;

Who with bold Ferdinand, strives th’Elect’rate to save,

And Contades for life, (upon Minden’s fam’d plain)

Will remember the brave Phillips (q), Drummnond (q), Macbean (q).

Derry, &c.


Both Williams (q), and Foy (q), there gain’d them a name,

They reason’d in thunder, they argu’d in flame;

So cogent their reasons, so thick flew their balls,

They soon put to silence th’impertinent Gauls.

Derry, &c.

   (q) (q) (q) (q) (q) These five were the gentlemen, who commanded the British artillery, which did such execution; and to whom Prince Ferdinand sent such peculiar thanks after the battle; and with these thanks, five hundred crowns to one, and three hundred crowns to each of the rest.

[page 224]


Tho’ Richlieu, the marshal (like an imp sent from hell)

The orphan-house burnt, and the orphans at Zell;

When Ferdinand fought, he fled in disgrace,

And thirty six thousand (r) left dead on the place.

Derry, &c.


Each from our ally, brave Fred’rick, recedes,

The Austrians, and Poles, Gauls, Russians, and Swedes;

He repels all their pow’rs, their malice disdains,

And rolls wasting war thro’ the Germanic plains.

Derry, &c.


Oft the frigates of France, mann’d with Frenchmen so stout,

Caught a terrible Tartar (s) wou’d fight, like Achilles enrag’d,

And came home crown’d with conquest whene’er he engag’d.

Derry, &c.

   (r) I do not mean, he lost thirty-six thousand in one battle; but so many of the French were destsroy’d, of that army, by the best accounts we can get.

   (s) (s) It is a usual saying, when a person finds he is overpower’d by an antagonist, in argument, or battle, (whom

[page 225]



OUR navy launch’d forth in quest of their prey,

And drove the French navy quite out of the sea;

They sculk’d into Brest, Toulon, or Villaine;

And there let ’em stay: for great GEORGE rules the main.

Derry, &c.


Holmes, and Saunders, in Canada, gave ’em a check,

And the brave English Wolfe, he devour’d Quebec;

And to the confusion, and terror of Gaul,

A prey to Great Britain their merchant fleets fall.

Derry, &c.


Boscawen on shore, chac’d De Clue from the sea;

And Hawke conquer’d Conflans in Quibron Bay:

Some sunk, founder’d, burnt, (to quell Gallic pride,)

And some captivated, to Great Britain glide!

Derry, &c.

he thought to overcome) that he caught a Tartar: And Captain Lockhart, commanded his Majesty’d ship Tartar, and took many French frigates of war.

[page 226]


Their floating defence began to grow scant,

And the French royal navy a convoy did want;

Like a brood of scar’d chickens they sculk from the sea,

When they hear our brave Hawke is in quest of his prey.

Derry, &c.


Thurot, on Hibernia, made a descent,

But (like Gallic fortune,) observe the event;

Clements, Elliott, Logie, (a leash of brave tars;

The brothers of Neptune, the rival of Mars,)

Fierce as cubs they rush’d forth from the old Lion’s den,

Fac’d the hero Thurot, and affrighted his men.

Derry, &c.


Stern Æolus (t) first, he began the attack,

In a sulph’rous storm, flung their sails all aback; (u)

The Brilliant (x) Goddess (x) of war was engag’d,

Terpsichore, and Le Blonde, yard and yard arm engag’d.

Derry, &c.

   (t)  Æolus, in history, is call’d the god of the winds.

   (u) Aback, is a sea-term, and it belongs to the wind, to take the sails all aback.

   (x) (x) The ship Brilliant, and the Pallas; which is called

[page 227]


The gallant Thorot was slain in the fray,

And down came their ensigns in pannic dismay;

The French were amaz’d at Brittania’s thunder!

They own’d themselves beat, and deliver’d their plunder.

Derry, &c.


Resolv’d to retrieve the lost honour of France,

Against captiv’d Quebec, ten thousand advance:

But Murray, and Britons, march’d out from the fort,

And gave them a sample of true English sport.

Derry, &c.


By thousands born down, yet little dismay’d,

On the walls of Quebec, such a concert they play’d;

The rough warlike notes chill’d the ardor of France,

They car’d not to join hand in hand in the dance.

in history, the Goddess of War: these two engag’d the Terpsichore, and Le Blonde, whilst Captain Elliott, in the Æolus, engag’d Monsieur Thurot, in the Belleisle.

[page 228]


When Schomberg, and Dean, and brave Swanton appear’d,

And with Murray’s notes in loud concert were heard,

A pannic (accustom’d) fill’d Frenchmen with fears,

And rush’d to their souls thro’ their terrify’d ears.

Derry, &c.


Away fled the frigates on shore in despair,

And the forces forgot what first call’d ’em there;

They ran (deaf as adders, to glory’d loud call,)

From English Quebec, into French Montreal.

Derry, &c.


But Amherst, and Murray, with vengeance pursu’d,

And at Montreal those besiegers subdu’d:

When the three Nations join’d, and the Rangers give chace!

Where safely immur’d can the French find a place?

Derry, &c.


Lewis frets at the news (like a man in a bog,)

And fain would call in both the Don and the Frog, [page 229]

But our bulwarks afloat belch their threats in black flame,

And our troops are all ready to play the fierce game.

Derry, &c.



NOW fortune gave Keppel, and Hodgson a smile,

They batter’d bombarded, confounded Belleisle:

The Gallic Monarque, (like a growling she-bear,

When robb’d of her whelps,) roar’d out in despair.

Derry, &c.


Next Monckton, and Rodney, (delighting in wars,)

With Great Britain’s soldiers, and resolute tars,

And GEORGE the Third’s veng’ance, (whom none can withstand,)

Against Martinico, in thunder they land:

Derry, &c.


Not long Martinico their battle cou’d bear,

Monckton, Rodney, and Douglass, and Hervey were there: [page 230]

St. Peter’s, St. Lucia’s, the conquerors own,

When down Martinico in ruin was thrown.

Derry, &c.


At length the French arts, and French promises gain,

The long wish’d, long promis’d assistance from Spain;

Great Britain arouz’d (like a lion in rage,)

Defiance roar’d out, and prepar’d to engage.

Derry, &c.


Brave Albemarle, Pocock, and Keppel arose,

And conquer’d at Cuba, our fierce Spanish foes;

Of silver, and gold, rich Havannah they drein;

Lewis! what wilt thou do? for we’ve beggar’d proud Spain!

Derry, &c.


Th’ ill fate of thy ally still greatly prevails,

And into our port, his Hermione sails:

Where? where wilt thou go to replenish thy store?

For thy churches are robb’d of their glittering ore!

Derry, &c.


The gold laden Galleons to Old England are led;

And implacable Bess of wild Russia is dead; [page 231]

Fate, still seems resolv’d to sustain Prussia’s throne,

And all hopes of conquest o’er Fred’rick are flown.

Derry, &c.



THO’ Lewis, a conquest of Newfoundland made,

Our fishery stopp’d, and stagnated our trade,

Mighty fate had decreed (to poor Gallia’s shame.)

Not long e’er our troops shou’d reconquer the same.

Derry, &c.


Careless, couchant, and dormant, the Lion now lay;

Near sated with slaughter o’er prostrated prey;

The French took the hint under fortune’s kind smile,

And resolv’d they’d attack this American isle.

Derry, &c.

[page 232]


From Brest they stole out, (wisely shunning the fight,)

Stole again from St. John’s (y) in the shades of the night;

From Colville, and Graves, a wide distance they keep,

Made a burlesque on war, and play’d at bopeep.

Derry, &c.


How little they acted like Britain’s rough tars,

They forgot all their prime chosen sons of great Mars;

Terney left Dosohnivlle, like brave Blakeney alone,

And took very good care the disgrace was his own.

Derry, &c.


When Amherst arriv’d, he flung veng’ance about,

Put those veteran pick’d grenadiers to the rout,

Sent ’em all packing thence, to tell France and Spain,

They conquer’d, were vanquish’d, and sent home again.

Derry, &c.

   (y) Monsieur Terney, seem’d to be very expert at these adventures. He first stole through our fleet with two ships of the line, from the river Villaine; next stole out from Brest, (wisely evading all our ships,) and at last, escap’d from St. John’s, shunning an engagement; so that this was the third time of his sham performance.  

[page 233]


The Moro subverted, still GEORGE fiercely frown’d,

And doom’d rich Manilla’s strong ramparts to ground;

The dread triple union of England once more,

United to tread the Luconian shore.

Derry, &c.


Tho’ Arzpo to battle the Spaniards had warm’d,

Tho’d with bows, lances, arrows, Pampangans were arm’d,
Our troops made brave Spaniards retreat in dismay,

Thro’ savage Pampangans our tars hew’d their way.

Derry, &c.


From their walls like a torrent they drove thro’ the street,

Tho’ step after step, with new dangers they meet;

Each new growing obstacle boldly disdain’d,

And soon the Grand Square most triumphantly gain’d.

Derry, &c.


A Pampangan arrow came winged with fate,

And transfix’d the bold More near the strong Royal Gate; [page 234]

Britain’s sons full of rage spurn’d their foes from the ground,

By hundreds Pampangans and Spaniards were drown’d.

Derry, &c.


Arzpo treated at length his Manilla to save;

For a ransom the dollars by millions he gave:

Lewis! leave fruitless wishes, thy grief is in vain;

Thou canst not expect any silver from Spain.

Derry, &c.


The Flower de Luce, the old Lion hath rent,

The French are all nonplus’d, their treasures are spent;

Like vermin intrapp’d, let ’em bustle and fret;

For their schemes are all sunk in a mighty deep Pitt.

Derry, &c.


By troubles depress’d, both the Don and the Gaul,

To GEORGE the victorious, for mercy they call:

He heard, and he pity’d, and granted their pray’r,

And sav’d both the nations from want and despair.

Derry, &c.

[page 235]


On Monsieur THUROT’S descent and defeat.


YE Britons! attend, you shall hear how Thurot,

(He led only Frenchmen, intirely forgot,)

Tyger like, for awhile, kill’d, ravag’d, and then,

Victoriously thought to have slunk to his den!

Derry down, down, down, derry down.


With three or four ships, Monsieur Thurot made boast,

He’d make a descent on Hibernia’s coast:

Next thought to retreat with his men, and his prey,

As well he might ’scape from fierce lions away!

Derry down, down, down derry down.


For Æolus (z) blew a strong blast in his face!

Flung his sails all aback (a), retarded his pace!

   (z) The ship Æolus; and Æolus, is god of the wind.

   (a) Aback, is a sea-term.

[page 236]

With a Brilliant (b) air, mix’d with fierce martial rage,

The Goddess (c) of war she bore down to engage!

Derry down, down, down derry down.


The Frenchmen grew pale when they saw the three sail,

Their passage obstruct as from Ireland they steal,

With vocal huzzas to Belleisles’s volunteers (d)

They play’d a rough concert of old English airs!

Derry down, down, down derry down.


Of the symphony rude the Gauls did complain,

And swore the whole tune was a dissonant strain!

Their loud shouts victorious! their triumphs were drown’d!

By deep-noted bass of our cannons around!

Derry down, down, down derry down.


The sport rougher grew! and the Frenchmen grew sick!

Death flew fore and aft, as the bullets flew thick!

   (b) The ship Brilliant.

   (c) The ship Pallas, goddess of war.

   (d) The cutlasses, on board the Belleisle, had for their motto, Belleisle’s volunteers.

[page 237]

Their great hero Thurot, fell wounded, and dead;

Soon after they struck in a cold pannic dread!

Derry down, down, down derry down.


Monsieurs! take advice, put an end to these wars,

You cannot engage with our troops, and brave tars!

Nor dare near the den of the Lion to roam;

Brave Hawke scours the seas! and great Pitt is at home!

Derry down, down, down derry down.


On the heroic Taylors, belonging to Elliot’s light horse, who fought so bravely in Germany.


WHEN Granby, the brave, (a disciple of Mars!)

Rush’d forth from Great Britain to Germanic wars!

To fight the foe rang’d, or to force the strong trench,

And help Ferdinand ’gainst the swaggering French!

Derry down, down, down derry down.

[page 238]


The taylors regardless of death, wounds, and scars!

Resolv’d to leave stitching, and live by the wars!

With a patriot zeal, they deserted their boards!

Bestrode the war horses, and brandish’d their swords!

Derry down, down, down derry down.


The news throughout England no sooner was known,

What great emulation the taylors had shown!

But they lifted in scores, ’gainst Britannia’s foes!

And Elliot’s light horse was the cohort they chose!

Derry down, down, down derry down.


Behold, they set sail from their own native land,

And meet a good welcome from brave Ferdinand,

Who led ’em straightway, where the foe rang’d in view,

They kindled with ardour! and resolute grew!

Derry down, down, down derry down.


They prim’d with a frown, and ramm’d home their balls,

Set spurs, and full gallop they drove on the Gauls,

Face to face they discharg’d, unsheath’d to engage,

And hew’d thro’ the French with Achillean rage.

Derry down, down, down derry down.

[page 239]


Gallant Erskine the bold, he headed this band,

Who follow’d like death at the warrior’s command,

The French turn’d their backs, broke, scatter’d, and fled,

The taylors rush’d on over mountains of dead.

Derry down, down, down derry down.


Poor Lewis must surely be in a sad plight,

When his swaggering heroes our taylors can’t fight,

If before them o’erpow’r’d in pannic they flee;

How dreadful must Great Britain’s heroes all be!

Derry down, down, down derry down.


In a different sense the old proverb we’ll take,

Nine soldiers (e) of Gaul scarce a light horseman make,

With feminine tremor the French are all smitten,

For nine dare not face a brave stitch (f) of Great Britain!

Derry down, down, down derry down.


   (e)  The old saying is, nine taylors make a man; but now I have inverted the sense of it: and say, nine French soldiers dare not face an English taylor.

   (f) Stitch is a cant word for a taylor.

 [page 240]

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