The Poems of Philip Freneau Volume I Part 28

Still for dominion haughty Louis pants-- Ah! how I tremble at the thoughts of France.-- Shall mighty George, to enforce his injured laws, 215 Transport all Russia to support the cause?-- That allied empire countless shoals may pour Numerous as sands that strew the Atlantic sh.o.r.e; But policy inclines my heart to fear They'll turn their arms against us when they're here-- 220 Come, let's agree--for something must be done Ere autumn flies, and winter hastens on-- When pinching cold our navy binds in ice, You'll find 'tis then too late to take advice."

The clock strikes two!--Gage smote upon his breast, 225 And cried,--"What fate determines, must be best-- But now attend--a counsel I impart That long has laid the heaviest at my heart-- Three weeks--ye G.o.ds!--nay, three long years it seems Since roast-beef I have touched except in dreams. 230 In sleep, choice dishes to my view repair, Waking, I gape and champ the empty air.-- Say, is it just that I, who rule these bands, Should live on husks, like rakes in foreign lands?--[95]

Come, let us plan some project ere we sleep, 235 And drink destruction to the rebel sheep.

"On neighbouring isles uncounted cattle stray, Fat beeves and swine, an ill-defended prey-- These are fit visions for my noon day dish, These, if my soldiers act as I would wish, 240 In one short week should glad your maws and mine; On mutton we will sup--on roast beef dine."

Shouts of applause re-echoed through the hall, And what pleased one as surely pleased them all; Wallace was named to execute the plan, 245 And thus sheep-stealing pleased them to a man.

Now slumbers stole upon the great man's eye, His powdered foretop nodded from on high, His lids just opened to find how matters were, Dissolve, he said, and so dissolved ye are, 250 Then downward sunk to slumbers dark and deep,-- Each nerve relaxed--and even his guts asleep.[96]

[A] An inhuman, butchering English judge in the time of Charles the first.--_Freneau's note._

[B] Capt. Wallace.--_Freneau's note._ Sir James Wallace was a prominent naval officer during the Revolution. In 1774-5 he commanded the _Rose,_ a 20-gun frigate, and greatly annoyed the people of Rhode Island by his detention of shipping and his seizure of private property. His severity and activity made him greatly detested by the colonists during the entire Revolution.

EPILOGUE

What are these strangers from a foreign isle, That we should fear their hate or court their smile?-- Pride sent them here, pride blasted in the bud, 255 Who, if she can, will build her throne in blood, With slaughtered millions glut her tearless eyes, And bid even virtue fall, that she may rise.

What deep offence has fired a monarch's rage?

What moon-struck madness seized the brain of Gage? 260 Laughs not the soul when an imprisoned crew Affect to pardon those they can't subdue, Though thrice repulsed, and hemmed up to their stations, Yet issue pardons, oaths, and proclamations!-- Too long our patient country wears their chains, 265 Too long our wealth all-grasping Britain drains.

Why still a handmaid to that distant land?

Why still subservient to their proud command?

Britain the bold, the generous, and the brave Still treats our country like the meanest slave, 270 Her haughty lords already share the prey, Live on our labours, and with scorn repay;-- Rise, sleeper, rise, while yet the power remains, And bind their n.o.bles and their chiefs in chains: Bent on destructive plans, they scorn our plea, 275 'Tis our own efforts that must make us free-- Born to contend, our lives we place at stake, And rise to conquerors by the stand we make.-- The time may come when strangers rule no more, Nor cruel mandates vex from Britain's sh.o.r.e, 280 When commerce may extend her shortened wing, And her rich freights from every climate bring, When mighty towns shall flourish free and great, Vast their dominion, opulent their state, When one vast cultivated region teems 285 From ocean's side to Mississippi streams, While each enjoys his vineyard's peaceful shade, And even the meanest has no foe to dread.

And you, who, far from Liberty detained, Wear out existence in some slavish land-- 290 Forsake those sh.o.r.es, a self-ejected throng, And armed for vengeance, here resent the wrong: Come to our climes, where unchained rivers flow, And loftiest groves, and boundless forests grow.

Here the blest soil your future care demands; 295 Come, sweep the forests from these shaded lands, And the kind earth shall every toil repay, And harvests flourish as the groves decay.

O heaven-born Peace, renew thy wonted charms-- Far be this rancour, and this din of arms-- 300 To warring lands return, an honoured guest, And bless our crimson sh.o.r.e among the rest-- Long may Britannia rule our hearts again, Rule as she ruled in George the Second's reign, May ages hence her growing grandeur see, 305 And she be glorious--but ourselves as free!

[85] Text from the edition of 1809. The poem was first published in New York in 1775 by Anderson, under the t.i.tle, "A Voyage to Boston, a poem,"

and a second edition was printed the same year in Philadelphia for William Woodhouse. The revision of the poem in the 1786 edition of Freneau's works mentions that the poem was published in September, 1775.

This is evidently a mistake. In the issue of October 21, of Anderson's _Const.i.tutional Gazette,_ appears the advertis.e.m.e.nt, "This day is published & to be sold by the printer, 'A Voyage to Boston: a Poem.'"

The copy of the poem in possession of the Library Company, Philadelphia, has endorsed upon it, "published in October, 1775." This earliest version, only a fragment of which was given in the various editions of the poet's works, has never before been reprinted. It is as follows:

A VOYAGE TO BOSTON, A POEM

ARGUMENT

Introductory reflections. A traveller undertakes a voyage to Boston: arrives in a river of Ma.s.sachusetts: has there a sight of the native Genius of North-America, who presents him with a mantle, and acquaints him with its virtue of rendering the wearer invisible; desires him to visit the town in that state and remark the transactions there. Accordingly he arrives at General Gage's mansion, where are several other ministerial tools sitting in council. The striking similarity of Gage's temper and conduct to that of Hernando Cortez. Some account of Cortez, and his horrid devastations in Mexico, &c. The traveller enters their junto, and gives an account of the chief members of it, viz., General Gage, Admiral Greaves, General Burgoyne, Lord Percy, General Howe, Capt.

Wallace, and a numerous fry of dependents and needy favourites waiting for posts and estates in America, as soon as they shall have compelled us to resign our liberties: General Gage's surprize at their several defeats in New-England, and questions his leaders thereupon. Lord Percy's answer: Greaves's reply to that n.o.bleman: Gage's raillery upon Percy for his nimble retreat on April 19, 1775. Percy's defence of his conduct on that day, and the reason of his activity; and desires them to forget Lexington for the present, and turn their eyes to the late loss at Bunker's Hill. General Howe's speech concerning that action. Burgoyne's harrangue, with his invectives against Colonel Grant, who "pledged himself for the general cowardice of all America:" Gage's brief reply; and communicates his intention of purloining cattle from the islands, and plans that right honourable exploit; but being overcome by sleep, dismisses his counsellors. The cutting down the Liberty Tree in Boston, and untimely end of one of the wretches employed in that sneaking affair. Distresses of the imprisoned citizens in Boston.

Dissection of a Tory. The traveller leaves Boston, and visits the Provincial Camp; meets the Genius of America again on the way and resigns the mantle, whereby he again becomes visible; arrives at the camp. View of the Rifle-men, Virginians, &c. Speech of an American soldier; his determined resolution, which is that of all America, to defend our rights and privileges. Grief that he must fight against our own nation. Mention of Carleton and Johnson; concludes with a melancholy recital of our present distractions, and sincere hope of reconcilation with Great Britain before a wicked ministry render it too late. Conclusion.

How curs'd the man whom fate's unhappy doom Confines, unluckly, to his native home, How doubly curs'd by cross grain'd stars is he, Whom fate ties down, tho' struggling to be free!

Heaven gave to man this vast extended round.

No climes confine him and no oceans bound; Heaven gave him forest, mountain, vale and plain, And bade him vanquish, if he could, the main: Then, miser, h.o.a.rd and heap thy riches still, View the sun rise above thy well known hill, Vile as the swine, enjoy thy gloomy den, Sweat in the compa.s.s of a squalid pen, 'Till sick of life, on terms with death agree, And leave thy fortune, not thy heart, to me.

So mus'd the bard who this rough verse indites, a.s.serting freedom, and his country's rights: Nor mus'd in vain; the fruitful musings brought To practice what in theory he thought; And gave desire, a keen desire, to roam A hundred or two hundred leagues from home.

Where should he go? The eastern hills reply, Come, pensive traveller, with thy tearful eye, Come, and fair Boston from our summit see, No city sits so widow-like as she; Her trading navies spread their sails no more, Remotest nations cease to seek her sh.o.r.e, Deep are her weeds--in darkest sable clad, O come and view the Queen of all that's sad, Long are her nights, that yield no chearful sound, Like endless nights in tombs below the ground, Low burns her lamp before th' insulting rout; See, the lamp dies, and every light goes out!

O Britain come, and, if you can, relent This rage, that better might on Spain be spent.

Touch'd with the mountain's melancholy prayer (Perhaps a mountain or Dame Fancy there) Could I refuse, since mutual grief endears, To seek New Albion's Lady all in tears?

But doubts perplexing hover'd o'er my mind, Whether to chuse the aid of horse or wind; That suits the best with bards of place and state, This must be needy Rhymers compensate, Since Jove his ancient bounty has deny'd, And grants no modern Pegasus to ride.

Dark was the night, the winds tempestuous roar'd From western skies, and warn'd us all aboard; Spread were the sails, the nimble vessel flies O'er Neptune's bosom and reflected skies; Nor halt I here to tell you how she roves O'er Tython's chambers and his coral groves.

Let some prose wand'rer long-sun journals keep, I haste me, like the vessel, o'er the deep; Nor tire you with descriptions of the coast, New mountains gain'd or hills in aether lost,-- The muse can only hint at scenes like these, Not stop to spend her poem in their praise: Three days we cut the brine with steady prore, The fourth beheld as on New Albion's sh.o.r.e.

Guard me, ye heavens, shield this defenceless head, While travelling o'er these sanguine plains of dead; Nor only me, may heaven defend us all From the harsh rigour of King George's ball.

Far in the depth of an aspiring wood, Where roll'd its waves a silver winding flood, Our weary vessel urg'd its darksome way, And safely anchor'd in a shady bay.

Landing, I left the weather-beaten crew, And pensive rov'd as home-sick travellers do; When all at once before my wand'ring eyes, The Genius of the river seem'd to rise; Tall and erect, untaught by years to bow, But not a smile relax'd his clouded brow: His swarthy features vengeful deeds forebode, Terror march'd on before him as he trode; His rattling quiver at his shoulder hung, His pointed spear and glitt'ring helmet rung; The tall oaks trembled at the warlike shade, When thus the Genius of the water said: "O curious stranger, come from far to see What grieves us all, but none so much as me!

The free-born Genius of the woods am I, Who scorn to dwell in lands of slavery; I, tho' unseen, command the heart to dare, And spread the soul of freedom thro' the air, That each may taste and value if he can, This sovereign good that const.i.tutes the man: Here, in the center of tyrannic sway, I spread my spirit and forbid dismay, To every bosom dart may influence round, Like the sun beams that fructify the ground; But waft a timorous and ign.o.ble breath Where conscience, conscience bids them shrink at death.

"O stranger, led by Heaven's supreme decree, Go, view the dire effects of tyranny, Strait to the town direct thy fated way, But heark attentive, listen and obey, I to thy care commit this magic vest, To guard thee 'midst yon' spires, a viewless guest; Whene'er its wreathy folds thy limbs embrace, No mortal eye thy roving step shall trace; Unseen as ghosts that quit the clay below, Yet seeing all securely thou shalt go.

There watch the motions of the hostile lines, Observe their counsels, watch their deep designs; Trace all their schemes, the lawless strength survey Of licens'd robbers howling for their prey."

So spoke the Genius of the shaded wave, And then the vest of wondrous virtue gave, Which scarce my limbs enwrapt, when I began To move as ne'er before did mortal man.

Light as the air, as free as winds I stray'd, Pierc'd firmest rocks and walls for prisons made, Soar'd high, nor ask'd the feeble aid of art, And trac'd all secrets but the human heart.

Then to the town I held my hasty course, To Boston's town subdu'd by lawless force; Close by a centinel I took my stride, The wretch ne'er saw me tho' I graz'd his side: But for my vest, what pains had been my lot.

What gibes, what sneers, reproaches, and what not?

Or in their place the robbers had constrained To turn a Tory, which my heart disdained.

Now stalk'd I on towards the dome of state, Where Gage resides, our western Potentate, A second Cortez,[a] sent by heaven's command, To murder, rage, and ravage o'er our land; A very Cortez--what's the difference?

He wants his courage and he wants his sense; E'en Cortez would our tyrant's part disdain.

That murder'd strangers; this his countrymen; In all the rest resemblance so exact, No gla.s.s Venetian could more true reflect.

In all their rest, congenial souls combin'd, The scourge, the curse and scandal of our kind.

Cortez was sent by Spain's black brotherhood, Whose faith is murder, whose religion blood; Sent unprovok'd, with his Iberian train, To fat the soil with millions of the slain: Poor Mexico! arouse thy sanguine head, Peru, disclose thy hosts of murder'd dead!

Let your vast plains all white with human bones, That bleeding lie, and ask sepulchral stones, Force a dumb voice and echo to the sky, The blasting curse of papal tyranny; And let your rocks, and let your hills proclaim, That Gage and Cortez' errand is the same.

Say then what cause this murd'rous band restrains?

The want of power is made the monster's chains, The streams of blood his heart foredooms to spill, Is but a dying serpent's rage to kill: What power shall drive this serpent from our sh.o.r.e, This scorpion, swoln with carnage, death, and gore?

Twelve was the hour,--infernal darkness reign'd, Low hung the clouds, the stars their light restrain'd: High in the dome a dire a.s.sembly sat, A stupid council on affairs of state; To their dim lamps I urg'd my fearless way, And marching 'twixt their guards without delay, Step'd boldly in, and safely veil'd from view, Stood in the center of the black-guard crew.

First, Gage was there--a mimic chair of state,

[a] Hernando Cortez, one of the original conquerors of Spanish America, who depopulated many provinces, and slew several millions of the natives of this continent. See Father Barthol. Du Casis's History.--_Freneau's note._

Here follow lines 72-131 above, with the following variations: line 75, "trident of the sea"; 76, "of artillery"; 79, "everlasting hum"; 80, "But senseless as the echo of a drum"; 81, "his ample chair supplies"; 82, "in studious guise"; 83, "to grant the world to see"; 87-90,

"His arm and pen of equal strength we call, This kills with dullness, just like that with hall."

91, "O conscious muse"; 93, "the Hero"; 95, "How should"; 97, "as Sol descending to repose"; 98, "the furious Captain"; 100, "'mongst those who find it"; 104, "His forked tongue hiss'd nothing else but Zounds!"; 105, "his army's fatal doom"; 106, "Ceas'd to beseech"; 107-108,

"(How could the skies refuse the pious man When half the pray'r was blood! and death! and d.a.m.n!)"

110, "sleeveless errand to a distant land"; 113, "the Pandemonian crew"; 114, "a pension'd few"; 116, "In dreams of Indian gold and Indian state;" 118, "hungry as h.e.l.l"; 121, "a secondary band"; 123, "a.s.sail'd the crowd"; 124, "Black as the horrors of a wintry cloud"; 125, "for doubts had place to grow"; 126, "or no"; 127-131,

Gage starts, rebounding from his ample seat, Swears thrice, and cries--"Ye furies, are we beat?

Thrice are we drubb'd?--Pray gentles let me know, Whether it be the fault of fate or you?"

He ceas'd, the anger flash'd from both his eyes, While Percy to his query thus replies,-- "Let G.o.ds and men attest the words I say, Our soldiers flinch'd not from the dubious fray, Had each a head of tempered steel possest, A heart of bra.s.s, and admantine breast, More courage ne'er had urg'd them to the fray, More true-born valour made them scorn dismay."

"Whoe'er," said Greaves, "their cowardice denies, Or Lord, or Knight, or 'Squire. I say he lies: How could the wretches help but marching on, When at their backs your swords were ready drawn, To pierce the man that flinch'd a single pace, From all h.e.l.l's light'ning blazing in his face?

Death on my life! My Lord, had I been there, I'd sent New-England's army thro' the air, Wrench'd their black hearts from this infernal brood, And turn'd their streams to Oliverian blood.

Here follow lines 131-200 above, with the following variations: 131, "but toys"; 132, "to be conquer'd thus"; 134, "this play-thing army"; 135, "Five thousand to five hundred"; 136, "And fourteen hundred"; 139, "Indeed," cries Gage, "'tis twice we have been beat"; 141, "You 'scap'd my very blood"; 147, "So spoke the Hero"; 148, "The brilliant Peer replies"; 149, 150, not in the original version; 151, "old Styx's sh.o.r.e"; 153, "his sable sail"; 154, "the lazy gale"; 157, "Farewell Quadrille, that helps out life's short span"; following 158.

"Farewell my steeds that stretch across the plain, More swift than navies bounding o'er the main."

160, "dull Medusa"; 163, 164, not in original version; 165-168,

"Since then, this truth is by mankind confess'd, That ev'ry Lord must yet be Pluto's guest."