n ii'U) til tr u ujt£k/u ii u- H' u CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE PS 755.A2T902"'™""'' """^ V.2 ^*^' iSSmSmmimSil? ""feneau .-poet of the 3 1924 021 971 100 The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924021971100 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU Volume II THE POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU POET OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION EDITED FOR The Princeton Historical Association BY FRED LEWIS FATTEE OF THE PENNSYLVANIA STATE COLLEGE, AUTHOR OF " A HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE ' " THE FOUNDATIONS OF ENGLISH LITERATURE " ETC. Volume II Princeton, N. J. The University Library 1903 T "A/. H y Copyright 1902 by The Princeton University Library C S.. Robinson &" Co. University Press Princeton N. J. CONTENTS VOLUME II PART II Continued The First Poetic Period. I'jys-iyh t PAGE George the Third's Soliloquy - 3,* Sir Harry's Invitation - 7'!' Dialogue between his Britannic Majesty and Mr. Fox 9 ■r^ •^he British Prison Ship 18 ' The Spy 39 A * PART III Era of the Freeman's Journal. l';8l-iygo On the Memorable Victory of Paul Jones 75 V An Address 81 -^ A New-York Tory 84 V To Lord Cornwallis 86 ^ A London Dialogue 87 A Lord Cornwallis to Sir Henry Clinton 89 The Vanity of Existence 91 '^ VI CONTENTS •» On the Fall of General Earl Cornwallis jTo THE Memory of the Brave Americans Arnold's Departure Plato to Theon Prologue to a Theatrical Entertainment Ruins of a Country Inn The Royal Adventurer Lord Dunmore's Petition Epigram A Speech by the King of Britain Rivington's Last Will and Testament Lines Occasioned by Mr. Rivington's New Titular Types Lines on Mr. Rivington's New Engraved King's Arms A Prophecy, Written 1782 The Argonaut or Lost Adventurer -The Political Balance Dialogue at Hyde Park Corner On the Late Royal Sloop of War General Monk Truth Anticipated Barney's Invitation Song on Captain Barney's Victory On Sir Henry Clinton's Recall Sir Guy Carleton's Address Scandanavian War Song page 92 -^\ lOI^ 104 " 108' IIO^ 112''' II4X 116 ' 117 124 1 26 A' 128 130^ 140 <> 142 A 143 149 153 •^'' 159 CONTENTS Vll The Projectors On General Robertson's Proclamation A Picture of the Times Prince William Henry's Soliloquy Satan's Remonstrance The Refugees" Petition to Sir Guy Carleton Sir Guy's Answer To a Concealed Royalist To the Concealed Royalist, in Answer to a Second Attack To the Concealed Royalist on his Farewell To THE Royalist Unveiled To Shylock Ap-Shenkin The Prophecy of King Tammany Rivington's Reflections New Year's Verses, January i, 1783 New Year's Verses, January 8, 1783 Hugh Gaine's Life Stanzas Occasioned by the Departure of the British FROM Charleston, December 14, 1782 On the British King's Speech A New-York Tory's Epistle Manhattan City Verses Occasioned by General Washington's Arrival in Philadelphia 160 162 ^ 163 ' 167 '• 169 ' 172-! 173 174 .' 177 ' 179 181 18s 187, 190-'^ 197 198 201 <^ 214 ^ - 217 ^ 219 -223-- 225 Viu CONTENTS PAGE Rivington's Confessions 229 A News-Man's Address 238 New Year's Verses, January 7, 1784 - - - 240 The Happy Prospect 242 The Dying Indian, Tomo-Chequi 243 Lines Intended for Mr. Peale's Exhibition 246 The Hurricane 250 To the Keeper of the King's Water Works 252 Lines Written at Port Royal 253 To Sir Toby, a Sugar Planter 258'' Elegy on Mr. Robert Bell - 260 On the First American Ship that Explored the Rout TO India - 261 The Newsmonger - 263 Sketches of American History 269^- The Progress of Balloons 276'^ On the Emigration to America 280 The Seasons Moralized 282 On the Death of Colonel Laurens 283 On the Vicissitudes of Things 284 Pewter-Platter Alley in Philadelphia 287 On the Death of General Joseph Reed 288 A Renegado Epistle - 290-^' The American Siberia - 293 Epistle to Sylvius - - 295 - Jl CONTENTS IX PAGE The Departure, 1785 296 A Newsman's Address - 301 Literary Importation 303 '^' The Englishman's Complaint 305 The Wild Honey Suckle - 306 On a Book Called Unitarian Theology - 307 To Zoilus - 309 On the Legislature of Great-Britain Prohibiting the Sale of Dr. Ramsay's History - 312 The Death Song of a Cherokee Indian 313 Stanzas Written at the Foot of Monte Souffriere 314 On the Crew of a Certain Vessel 317 The Bermuda Islands - 318 Florio to Amanda 319 Philander: or The Emigrant 321 The Fair Solitary 325 Amanda in a Consumption - 326 Elegiac Lines - - 328^ The Insolvent's Release 329 May to April 331 To an Author 332 "^ To Misfortune 335 To- Cracovius Putridus 336 Slender's Journey 338'^ The Hermit of Saba 359 CONTENTS (•The Indian Burying Ground The Indian Student The Man of Ninety Alcina's Enchanted Island Horace, Lib. I. Ode 15 A Subscription Prayer Epistle to the Patriotic Farmer Palemon to Lavinia A Newsman's Address On the Prospect of a Revolution in France To a Dog To Lydia To Cynthia Amanda's Complaint Hatteras St. Catharine's To Mr. Churchman The Procession to SylvAnia The Pilgrim's Progress Sangrado's Expedition to Sylvania The Distrest Theatre To Memmius page 369 371 374 376 377 379 380 381 383 38s 387 387 391 392 394 397 398 399 401 402 404/^ 406 PART II {Continued) THE FIRST POETIC PERIOD 1775— 1 78 1 Vol. II THE POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU GEORGE THE THIRD'S SOLILOQUYi What mean these dreams, and hideous forms that rise Night after night, tormenting to my eyes — No real foes these horrid shapes can be. But thrice as much the}'^ vex and torture me. 5 How cursed is he — how doubly cursed am I — Who lives in pain, and yet who dares not die ; To him no joy this world of Nature brings, In vain the wild rose blooms, the daisy springs. Is this a prelude to some new disgrace, lo Some baleful omen to my name and race ! — It may be so — ere mighty Caesar died Presaging Nature felt his doom, and sighed ; ' From the edition of 1809. The poem was first published in the May / number of the United States Magazine, I77g, and much revised and enlarged for the edition of 1786, where it bore the title, " George III. His Soliloquy for 1779." This earliest version, which began with the startling line, " O Damn this Congress, damn each upstart state," was made up as follows, the numbering referring to the above version : Lines 68-72, 47-64, followed by ' ' Yet rogues and savage tribes I must employ, And what I cannot conquer will destroy." 4 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1775 A bellowing voice through midnight groves was heard, And threatening ghosts at dusk of eve appeared — 15 Ere Brutus fell, to adverse fates a prey. His evil genius met him on the way, And so may mine ! — but who would yield so soon A prize, some luckier hour may make my own ? Shame seize my crown ere such a deed be mine — 20 No — to the last my squadrons shall combine. And slay my foes, while foes remain to slay, Or heaven shall grant me one successful day. Is there a robber close in Newgate hemmed. Is there a cut-throat, fettered and condemned ? 25 Haste, loyal slaves, to George's standard come. Attend his lectures when you hear the drum ; Your chains I break — for better days prepare, / Come out, my friends, from prison and from care, ; Far to the west I plan your desperate sway, 30 There 'tis no sin to ravage, burn, and slay, There, without fear, your bloody aims pursue, ' And shew mankind what English thieves can do. That day, when first I mounted to the throne, I swore to let all foreign foes alone. Lines 23-32, followed by " Ye daring hosts that croud Columbia's shore, Tremble ye traitors, and exult no more ; Flames I shall hurl with an unceasing hand, Till fires eternal blaze throughout your land, And every dome and every town expires, And traitors perish in the unfeeling fires ; But hold — though this be all my soul's desire. Will my own towns be proof to reiel fire. If in revenge my raging foes should come. And burn my London — it would strike me dumb, To see my children and my queen in tears. And these tall piles come tumbling round my ears. 1781] GEORGE THE THIRD'S SOLILOQUY 5 35 Through love of peace to terms did I advance, And made, they say, a shameful league with France.^ But different scenes rise horrid to my view, I charged my hosts to plunder and subdue — At first, indeed, I thought short wars to wage ' 40 And sent some jail-birds to be led by Gage,^ For 'twas but right, that those we marked for slaves Should be reduced by cowards, fools, and knaves ; Awhile directed by his feeble hand. Whose troops were kicked and pelted through the land, 45 Or starved in Boston, cursed the unlucky hour They left their dungeons for that fatal shore. France aids them now, a desperate game I play, / And hostile Spain will do the same, they say ; My armies vanquished, and my heroes fled, 50 My people murmuring, and my commerce dead, My shattered navy pelted, bruised, and clubbed. By Dutchmen bullied, and by Frenchmen drubbed, My name abhorred, my nation in disgrace, How should I act in such a mournful case ! 55 My hopes and joys are vanished with my coin. My ruined army, and my lost Burgoyne ! What shall I do — confess my labours vain. Or whet my tusks, and to the charge again ! Would to its inmost caverns fright my mind, And stun onrself, the boldest of mankind." Lines 73-76, followed by ' ' My future years I consecrate to woe, For this great loss my soul in tears shall flow." Ending with lines 77-82. ^ Alluding to the peace of 1761 and the forced retirement of Pitt. ^ "And sent a scoundrel by the name of Gage." — Ed. 1786. 6 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [177S But Where's my force — my choicest troops are fled, 60 Some thousands crippled, and a myriad dead — If I were owned the boldest of mankind, And hell with all her flames inspired my mind, Could I at once with Spain and France contend. And fight the rebels on the world's green end ? — 65' The pangs of parting I can ne'er endure, ' Yet part we must, and part to meet no more! rOh, blast this Congress, blast each upstart State, On whose commands ten thousand captains wait; From various climes that dire Assembly came, 70 True to their trust, as hostile to my fame, 'Tis these, ah these, have ruined half my sway. Disgraced my arms, and led my slaves astray^ I Cursed be the day when first I saw the sun, ': Cursed be the hour when I these wars begun : 75 The fiends of darkness then possessed my mind. And powers unfriendly to the human kind. To wasting grief, and sullen rage a prey, To Scotland's utmost verge I'll take my way. There with eternal storms due concert keep 80 And while the billows rage, as fiercely weep — Ye highland lads, my rugged fate bemoan. Assist me with one sympathizing groan, ^ For late I find the nations are my foes, ! I must submit, and that with bloody nose, 85 Or, like our James, fly basely from the state, ; Or share, what still is worse — old Charles's fate. ' " O let the earth my rugged fate bemoan, And give at least one sympathizing groan.'' — United States Magazine, ijyg. I78i] SIR HARRY'S INVITATION SIR HARRY'S INVITATION » Come, gentlemen Tories, firm, loyal, and true, Here are axes and shovels, and something to do ! For the sake of our king, Come, labour and sing; You left all you had for his honour and glory. And he will remember the suffering Tory : We have, it is true. Some small work to do ; But here's for your pay Twelve coppers a day. And never regard what the rebels may say. But throw off your jerkins and labour away. To raise up the rampart, and pile up the wall. To pull down old houses and dig the canal. To build and destroy — Be this your employ, In the day time to work at our fortifications, And steal in the night from the rebels your rations: The king wants your aid. Not empty parade; Advance to your places Ye men of long faces. Nor ponder too much on your former disgraces. This year, I presume, will quite alter your cases. ' According to Frank Moore's Songs and Ballads of the Revolution, this poem was first issued as a ballad-sheet in 1779- It was reprinted in the Free- man^ s Journal, April 17, 1782, and was published in the author's three editions. The text follows the edition of I795. Sir Henry Clinton was left in command of New York City, July 5, 1777, when Howe started on his expedition for the capture of Philadelphia. Fre- neau's poem indicates his treatment of the Tory refugees. 8 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [177S Attend at the call of the fifer and drummer, The French and the Rebels are coming next summer, And forts we must build Though Tories are kill'd — Then courage, my jockies, and work for your king, For if you are taken no doubt you will swing — If York we can hold I'll have you enroU'd ; And after you're dead Your names shall be read As who for their monarch both labour'd and bled. And ventur'd their necks for their beef and their bread. 'Tis an honour to serve the bravest of nations, And be left to be hang'd in their capitulations — Then scour up your mortars And stand to your quarters, 'Tis nonsense for Tories in battle to run. They never need fear sword, halberd, or gun ; Their hearts should not fail 'em, No balls will assail 'em, Forget your disgraces And shorten your faces. For 'tis true as the gospel, believe it or not, Who are born to be hang'd, will never be shot. 1781] A DIALOGUE A DIALOGUE BETWEEN HIS BRITANNIC MAJESTY AND MR. FOX> Supposed to have passed about the time of the approach of the com- bined fleets of France and Spain to the British coasts, August, 1779. King G. Good master Fox,^ your counsel I implore. Still George the third, but potent George no more. By North conducted to the brink of fate, j I mourn my folly and my pride too late : 1 The promises he made, when once we met In Kew's gay shades,* I never shall forget, That at my feet the western world should fall. And bow to me the potent lord of all — Curse on his hopes, his councils and his schemes, ' His plans of conquest, and his golden dreams, *The royal gardens at Kew. — Freneau's note. •First published in the United States Magazine, December, 1779. The text follows the edition of 1786. ' ' Early in June, the French fleet of thirty-one ships of the line, yielding to Spanish importunities, put to sea from Brest ; and yet they were obliged to wait off the coast of Spain for the Spaniards. After a loss of two months in the best season of the year, a junction was effected with more than twenty ships of war under the command of . . . Count Gaston ; and the combined fleet, the largest force that had ever been afloat, sailed for the British Channel. . . . The united fleet rode unmolested by the British. . . . On the 16th of August they appeared off Plymouth, but did not attack the town. After two idle days a strong wind drove them to the west ; when the gale had abated, the allies rallied, returned up the channel, and the British retreated before them. No harmony existed between the French and Spanish officers. A deadly malady ravaged the French ships and infected the Spanish. The combined fleet never had one chief. The French returned to port and remained there ; the Span- iards sailed for Cadiz, execrating their allies." — Bancroft. " " Charly Yon."— Ed. ijgs- lO POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [177S These have allur'd me to the jaws of hell, By Satan tempted thus Iscariot fell : Divested of majestic pomp I come, My royal robes and airs I've left at home, Speak freely, friend, whate'er you choose to say, Suppose me equal with yourself to-day : How shall I shun the mischiefs that impend ? How shall I make Columbia* yet my friend ? I dread the power of each revolted State, The convex East hangs balanc'd with their weight. How shall I dare the rage of France and Spain, And lost dominion o'er the waves regain ? Advise me quick, for doubtful while we stand, Destruction gathers o'er this wretched land : These hostile squadrons to my ruin led. These Gallic thunders fill my soul with dread, If these should conquer — Britain, thou must fall And bend, a province, to the haughty Gaul: If this must be — thou earth, expanding wide. Unlucky George in thy dark entrails hide — Ye oceans, wrap me in your dark embrace — Ye mountains, shroud me to your lowest base — Fall on my head, ye everlasting rocks — But why so pensive, my good master Fox ?^ Fox While in the arms of power and peace you lay. Ambition led your restless soul astray. Possest of lands extending far and wide, And more than Rome could boast in all her pride, * America, so called, by poetical liberty, from its discoverer. — Freneau's note. 1 Fox's opposition to the American war is too well known to need comment. 1781] A DIALOGUE II Yet, not contented with that mighty store, Like a true miser, still you sought for more ; And, all in raptures for a tyrant's reign. You strove your subjects dearest rights to chain; Those ruffian hosts beyond the ocean sent. By your commands on blood and murder bent. With cruel hand the form of man defac'd. And laid the toils of art and nature waste. (For crimes like these imperial Britain bends, For crimes like these her ancient glory ends) These lands, once truest to your name and race, Whom the wide ocean's utmost waves embrace, Your just protection basely you deny'd, Their towns you plunder'd, and you burnt beside. Virginia's slaves, without one blush of shame, Against their lords^ you arm'd with sword and flame; At every port your ships of war you laid. And strove to ruin and distress their trade. Yet here, ev'n here, your mighty projects fail'd ; For then from creeks their hardy seamen sail'd, In slender barques they cross'd a stormy main. And traffick'd for the wealth of France and Spain ; O'er either tropic and the line they pass'd, And, deeply laden, safe return'd at last : Nor think they yet had bow'd to Britain's sway. Though distant nations had not join'd the fray, Alone they fought your armies and your fleet, And made your Clintons and your Howes retreat. And yet while France stood doubting if to join. Your ships they captur'd, and they took Burgoyne! How vain is Briton's strength, her armies now Before Columbia's bolder veterans bow ; 1 " Their cause."— ^ So black, corrupted, mortified, and lean _. ^__ That once we try'd to move our flinty chief. And thus address'd him, holding up the beef: "See, captain, see! what rotten bones we pick, ' ' What kills the healthy cannot cure the sick : "Not dogs on such by Christian men are fed, "And see, good master, see, what lousy bread! " "Your meat or bread (this man of flint replied) "Is not my care to manage or provide — "But this, damn'd rebel dogs, I'd have you know, " That better than you merit we bestow ; " Out of my sight! " nor more he deign'd to say. But whisk'd about, and frowning, strode away. Each day, at least three carcases we bore, And scratch'd them graves along the sandy shore ; By feeble hands the shallow graves were made. No stone memorial o'er the corpses laid ; In barren sands, and far from home, they lie. No friend to shed a tear, when passing by ; O'er the mean tombs insulting Britons tread. Spurn at the sand, and curse the rebel dead. When to your arms these fatal islands fall, (For first or last they must be conquer'd all) Americans ! to rites sepulchral just. With gentlest footstep press this kindred dust. And o'er the tombs, if tombs can then be found, Place the green turf, and plant the myrtle round. 38 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1775 Americans ! a just resentment shew, And glut revenge on this detested foe ; While the warm blood exults the glowing yein Still shall resentment in your bosoms reign, Can you forget the greedy Briton's ire. Your fields in ruin, and your domes on fire. No age, no sex from lust and murder free. And, black as night, the hell born refugee ! Must York forever your best blood entomb. And these gorg'd monsters triumph in their doom. Who leave no art of cruelty untry'd ; Such heavy vengeance, and such hellish pride ! Death has no charms — his realms dejected lie In the dull climate of a clouded sky ; Death has no charms, except in British eyes, See, arm'd for death, the infernal miscreants rise ; See how they pant to stain the world with gore, And millions murder'd, still would murder more ; This selfish race, from all the world disjoin'd. Perpetual discord spread throughout mankind, Aim to extend their empire o'er the ball, Subject, destroy, absorb, and conquer all. As if the power that form'd us did condemn AH other nations to be slaves to them^ Rouse from your sleep, and crush the thievish band. Defeat, destroy, and sweep them from the land, Ally'd like you, what madness to despair. Attack the ruffians while they linger there •, There Tryon sits, a monster all complete, See Clinton there with vile Knyphausen meet. And every wretch whom honour should detest There finds a home — and Arnold with the rest. Ah ! traitors, lost to every sense of shame. Unjust supporters of a tyrant's claim ; 1781] THE SPY 39 Foes to the rights of freedom and of men, Flush'd with the blood of thousands you have slain, To the just doom the righteous skies decree We leave you, toiling still in cruelty, Or on dark plans in future herds to meet, Plans form'd in hell, and projects half complete: The years approach that shall to ruin bring Your lords, your chiefs, your miscreant of a king. Whose murderous acts shall stamp his name accurs'd, And his last triumphs more than damn the first. THE SPYi Sir Henry Clinton, Major Andrd, Lucinda, Amelia, Arnold, Gen. Green, Servants to Arnold, Peasants, Knyphausen, Gen. Robertson. Scene I. — West Point Fort. ]effery anti Pasquin, servants to Arnold, working in a garden. Pasq. (Throwing down his spade) Faith, Jeffery, I am weary of toiling among these rocks and precipices. I must e'en give o'er. Our master should have fetched his soil along with him to these savage retreats. We may work till we are gray-headed ere we can produce a turnip or a cabbage for him on these barren, unthrifty rocks. Jeff. Be not discouraged, Pasquin, we shall have better soil to work in ere long. Pasq. How know you that ? ^This fragment of a drama, as far as I can find, was never published. Freneau, judging from indications, wrote it shortly after his "Prison Ship," in the autumn of 1780, only a few weeks after the events took place which it records. It exists, as far as I know, only in Freneau's fragmentary and much-revised autograph manuscript now in the possession of Miss Adele M. Sweeney of Jersey City. The arrest of Andre took place September 23, 1780. 40 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1775 Jeff. I overheard my master t'other day telling a friend of his, whom, by the by, the people of this coun- try call a Tory, that he had planned matters so that in a little time the war would be over, and then he would purchase one of the most fertile tracts of land in Amer- ica and entitle it a Manor; that he would settle the same goodly possession with tenants and vassals, and so being master among them, spend the remainder of his days in quiet. Pasq. I pray for the speedy fulfilling of this design. Our master, I know, is an able general. Why, I sup- pose he intends to rout the enemy out of New York, retake Charleston, conquer the warships of Britain, kill the king, and so force the English nation to make peace with the Americans. Jeff. Heaven only knows in what manner he intends to act or what his plan may be, but this I am sure of, he keeps it very secret, and I believe there are not above one or two of his friends that know anything of it. Pasq. Well, the sooner he gets a new garden for us the better. I have worn out a dozen mattocks and as many spades on these cursed craggy rocks. One's tools to work here should be made of adamant. But, Jeffery, do you not observe how gracious and intimate our master has been for these several months past with some who are called disaffected ? Jeff. I have had it in my mind to make the same observation to you, and do you not perceive that their intimacy daily increases ? Pasq. And then, when our master is at table with some of these chosen favorites, how he sneers and hints ludicrous things against the American officers and army. One would think he heartily despised them, by his behaviour. 1781] THE SPY 41 Jeff. And what was it he said of the French the other day ? Did he not say they were a perfidious nation of knaves, a herd of needy scoundrels who were endeavoring to conquer this country from the king of Britain, that they might add it to their own dominions and make the people here slaves ? Pasq. And when the general gives a dance or an entertainment or a ball, we see none of the true-heart Americans invited. His guests are a lukewarm, half- disaffected sort of people, who say more than for their own sakes I would choose to mention to everybody. Jeff. Well, this may all be true, and yet I cannot help thinking our master is a hearty friend to his coun- try. He does these things for a feint, under a mask, as it were, to find out secrets from the enemy. In good faith, I am of opinion he will shortly drive every British soldier off the continent and then become pos- sessed of his Lordship or Manor, or what-so you call it. Pasq. Amen, I say, and so let us work on in hopes of better times. Scene II. — Scene changes to New York. Sir Henry Clinton and Major Andr£ in a private apartment. Sir Henry. Andr6, my friend arid faithful confidant. Since Fortune now vouchsafes to smile again. And stubborn Charlestown bends to Britain's yoke. What shall we next attempt or next achieve ? I have transmitted home a full account Of that great capture, that important city Which long has bid defiance to our arms, With all particulars and circumstances Attending on the siege, and in the list Of British officers with honour mentioned. You, sir, are not forgot. I must confess. 42 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [i77S By your advice I planned that expedition, Which now shall set me high in royal favor, By your unconquered spirit and perseverance, A mind that laughs at toils and difficulties, I carried on the siege with fire and vigour Against a foe with hearts of adamant, And found them to submit — but princely favor Is like a fire that only burns as long As you afford it fuel. Before this conquest Of Charlestown wears away, and hardly leaves A faint impression on the royal mind. Let's hatch some great exploit, some daring action That strikes into the heart of this rebellion. That one deed, treading on the heels of t'other, May make us great indeed. Maj. Andrd. I have been thinking Some time. Sir Henry, what we should be doing. 'Tis yet but early in the active season; The summer scarce has finished her career, And in this mild, this pleasing temperate climate Three months as yet are open for campaigns; But then our worn-out, dying, wounded soldiers Demand our pity. Those who came from Charlestown Have brought with them a lingering hectic fever Which hardly one survives. Our soldiers here Who do the duty of the garrison, With constant watching, unremitted labor. Cannot be spared from hence. Were we sufficient In horse and foot to combat with the foe, I forthwith would advise your Excellency Once more to try the force of Washington, That so, by killing and by captivating Him and his troops, we totally might ruin This only stay, this bulwark of rebellion. I78i] THE SPY 43 But since our circumstances don't allow With open force t' attack the hostile lines, Let's try the witching power of bribery. We read the Prince of Macedon declared That those strong gates his javelins could not pierce Nor battering ram effect a breach upon, Were open still to gold. {Pauses Sir Henry, Speak on, my friend. For I approve the motion to my soul If any project likely to succeed, Or well-planned scheme thou canst impart to me, Gold shall not be deficient. Millions lie Appropriated to this very purpose, And often have I sent to sound some chiefs Whose qualities and influence are great In yonder hostile camp, but their stern souls Are so well armed with more than Spartan virtue That there corruption seems to have no power, And all my schemes and plans are come to nothing. MaJ. Andrd. I know a man Who, wouldst thou think it, by his chieftain trusted. And even this moment placed in high command. And honoured to profusion by his country — The Americans in truth almost adore him — That I do correspond with daily. O Britain, Britain, That one descended from thy true-born sons Should plot against the soil that gave him birth, And for the value of a little gold Betray its dearest rights. But traitors are the growth of every country And Arnold is our own ! Sir Henry. What say you ? Arnold ? Can Arnold then be bought ? I greet you now ! Arnold, in chief command at West Point fort ? 44 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [177S Arnold, who galled our sides in Canada ? Arnold, who took and plundered Montreal ? Gold shall not here be scarce if gold can buy him ; Ten thousand sterling pounds are at his service. And twice ten thousand more if he deliver This West Point fort with its dependencies Into the hand of Clinton. Maj. Andrd. If we can gain the fort we all things gain, The country round must at our mercy lie ; Then may our shipping sail to Albany, Disbark the troops that march for Saratoga, Who, taking thence the route to Lake Champlain, May soon reduce the forts, and in a month Open a new acquaintance with the north. Communicated free to Canada. — Another great advantage we shall gain : By being masters then of Hudson's river, We shall cut off all intercourse and passage Between the eastern and the southern states, Which I conceive will be of consequence Toward the speedy ending of the war. Sir Henry. And so you say that we can buy the fort ; Then happy I — my fame and fortune sure ; This service will be of such eminence That Britain never can requite Sir Henry. Maj. Andrd. I do report that you can buy the fort. For well I know the man I have to deal with ; For just ten thousand guineas The troops, the fort, and Arnold are your own. And to this man, altho' he be a rascal, You must consider we are obligated. He quits his friends, his honour, and his country. The fame of all his great and brilliant actions, 1781] THE SPY 45 And the encomiums both of France and Spain, Perhaps all Europe, Britain not excepted. Sold for ten thousand guineas and to serve us. Sir Henry. And obligated we confess ourselves. This West Point fort — for this a long campaign I spent along the shores of Hudson's river, And failed at last with loss of Stony Point, The works, the stores, and twice three hundred soldiers. The prime of all my pack; — yes, powerful gold, I own thy aid in this extremity. Tho' Britain be the greatest in the world In ships and men with genius for the sea, Yet cannot her stout navy take this fort By open force with all its weight of cannon. It stands upon a craggy eminence. All fenced around with towers and battlements. The works of mighty nature. To these subjoined the nicest aids of art — Glacis and bastions, flanks and counter scarps, Horn works and moat, half moons and covert way. Trenches and mines, tenaille and battery. With guns of every size and every bore. And such a host of desperadoes there. Who to the last drop of their blood would hold it. That none but devils, I presume, can take it. Beside, in sailing up the Hudson river. When from this fort you're yet a full mile distant. You turn a point at whose extremity So high the mountains swell above the flood That in a moment all your sails are lifeless ; The southern breezes die that blew with vigor. And there you lie at mercy of the fort. Your ships raked fore and aft and ruin around you. But all these difficulties cease if Arnold 46 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [177S Betray the place, as you would fain assure me. Now tell me, friend, the manner, how and when You did entice this champion from his duty. Maj. AndrL From some connection I have had with him, I found the leading feature of his soul Was avarice. He could feign and counterfeit. Persuade you black was white or white was black. And swear, as interest prompted, false or true. This known, I reasoned thus: If his base soul Can toil and fret and browbeat death itself. Endure the summer suns and winter snows In tedious route through hyperborean wilds, And sordid wealth alone incites him to it. Why may not British gold have some effect On such a slavish soul? I wrote him straight (Your pardon, sir, it was without your leave) And by a trusty lad I sent the letter. Sewed in a jacket, to the following import: That if he would forego his present station. Betray the fortress and the garrison. And he himself come over to our interest, He should be recompensed in such a manner That he might sit him down at ease in England, Up to the eyes in wealth and laugh at rebels. Sir Henry. And, pray, what answer did he send to this? Maj. Andrd. One that almost outdid ray expectation. He wrote me back that if I would adventure To trust myself within the Americ lines. He would, by means of secret friends and passports. Gain me admittance to his residence ; Or meeting close in personal interview In some lone place hereafter to be fixed on. 1781] THE SPY 47 Confer with me upon the fittest means Of rendering up his charge. He further added That he was weary of this damned rebellion, For ten thousand guineas would be yours, That doing thus he meant his country's good, And would pursue it to his utmost power. Sir Henry. Upon a lucky hour you thought of Arnold. But, friend, I charge you, if this scheme succeed, Take not the merit of it to yourself ; But let the world imagine it was Clinton Who schemed, who plotted, and seduced the villain ; That by this deed more honour I may gain Than if I had defeated Washington By dint of blows on yonder Jersey plain. Your recompense shall not be wanting, Andr6 ; My trusty friend, go make haste toward the highlands. A frigate shall be ready to convey you. Accept the proffered conference, and bring Plans of the fort and all its avenues, The number of the soldiers that defend it. And whate'er else may be of service to us ; That tho' if by chance his treason be discovered, And his designments lose- their consummation. We may have somewhat to facilitate — Some bold attack that may hereafter be Upon this proud and self-sufficient fortress. Maj. Andrd. But, sir, consider. If I undertake So bold a stroke as this, I risk my life. Perhaps may meet an ignominious death. When once I pass the British lines, that instant Do I become a spy. That character Ever belongs to common, vulgar men. To suttlers and to pedlars, desperate wretches. 48 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1775 The rubbish and the scourings of the world ; Can I descend to so desperate an office ? Sir Henry. But, then, your country ! — Consider what it is you owe your country. Distressed she combats with revolted nations. And can't by force reduce them to subjection ; Assist her while you can, and take my word. You need not fear an apprehension. I charge you, be not found within their lines; Remember still to keep on neutral ground, Unless a flag of truce be sent from Arnold That will secure your person and the plot. But if by chance you should be questioned By any scouting parties of militia, A purse of shillings scattered to the wretches Will soon procure a passage unmolested. I long to hear the upshot of this meeting, The Vulture man-of-war is at your service, And shall to-morrow take you up the river As far as she with safety may adventure. Maj. AndrL Then for the sake of Britain and of you Will I to Arnold haste away, Sir Harry. If things succeed, as I expect they shall, Within three days will I be back to tell you The means we fall upon to gain the fort. Act II. Scene I. — Enter an aide-de-camp front General Washington to Arnold. Scene, West Point Fort. Time, midnight. Aide D. C. Sir, I am sent by our renowned general To let you know that in his best opinion Five hundred men in reason are too few To man the works of this important post. 1781] THE SPY 49 Three thousand, he informs, are at your service. Lying at camp, with stores and baggage ready. Whene'er you send a requisition for them. Arnold. Five hundred are too few ! Why, sir, what means he ? I do assert, and do insist upon it, That with the aid of scant two hundred men I could defend this fort and all its outworks (Its strength is so prodigious in defence) Against ten legions of the boldest Britons, With Clinton at the head to lead them on, Whether he choose to come by sea or land. Aide D. C. Well be it so. I have discharged my duty In bringing you our noble general's message. Pray, sir, have you commands to send from hence ? My time to stay is short ; I must be going. Arnold. Tho' I am steady to my sentiment. That these five hundred men are full sufficient. Yet, to comply with the spirit of his meaning. You may inform the general, two hours' warning Will bring me in four thousand of militia. They are as rugged and as hardy fellows. As bold and desperate in the works of war, As skilled to hit the mark or push the bagnet. As any of the choicest continentals. Pray tell the general this, and I am sure, I'm satisfied, he'll be of my opinion. \Exit Aide D. C. Arnold {solus). This is the time for dark and danger- ous action ; This is the time that thieves and murderers choose To execute their desperate designs. But art thou, Arnold, less than murderer. Who thus prepare to stab thy bleeding country ? so POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [177S And can I then descend to be a traitor! By honest toils a name have I acquired, Great and unequalled in the rolls of fame ; And shall that name to infamy be doomed By one base act that mars and cankers all ? For this have I in winter's joyless reign Explored the naked wilds of northern clime, When mid the snows and frosts and chilling winds Cold earth has been my bed. Ambition, rise And fire my soul to nobler purposes. To-morrow Major Andr6 comes to meet me, And I am to consult on ways and means To give this fort up to my country's foes. Shall I repent of my unjust proceedings. Admit this daring Briton to my portal. And say I did thus to entrap the man Who is grand vizar to Sir Henry Clinton ? Whose scheming head doth hurt our country more Than all their host beside ? But that would be ungenerous — more than that. Ten thousand guineas are the offered price Of my desertion — more than that, perhaps I shall henceforward be caressed by kings And bear a generalship that may reduce These states revolted back to Britain's sway. ***** For now I do imagine They have no rights, no claims to independence. Born were we all, subjected to a king, And that subjection must return again. The people are not dull republicans. By nature they incline to monarchy. How glorious should I be to have a share In bringing back my country to allegiance. Can France uphold them in their proud demand. 1781] THE SPY 51 That race of puny, base, perfidious dogs ? Sooner shall all the house of Bourbon sink Their Rochambault, D'Estang and La Fayette, And Spain confederate cease to be a nation. And all their allies dwindle into atoms, Ere Britain will withdraw her righteous claim Or yield a jot of her dominion here To any people living. Then, Andr6, come. The sooner Britain gains this fort the better. Scene II. — Major Andr^, Lucinda. Parlor. Maj. AndrL I cannot leave this city, sweet Lu- cinda, without imparting to you that I am going a little way toward the American lines, at the request of his Excellency, upon some business of importance. I am come to chat a little with you ere 1 go. It may be some days before you see me again. Lucinda. If it be not too great a presumption in me, my dear Major, I would beg to know whether you depart on a peaceable or hostile errand. You must pardon a woman's curiosity. I had a frightful dream about you a few nights ago, which I cannot banish from my mind ever since. Maj. AndrL I am happy, madam, in being the sub- ject of your dreams. But dreams are delusions of the mind, mere vagaries and whimsies not to be attended to. You may remember that, prior to our Charles- town expedition, you discouraged me a good deal with a vision you had of a vessel shipwrecked, and myself with the other passengers drowned, and yet little or nothing was intimated thereby. We made our passage safe, conquered the place, and returned with victory and honor. 52 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [i77S Lucinda. True. But your fleet endured a terri- ble hurricane, in which many perished. Maj. AndrL O Lucinda, thou art a dreamer of dreams, thou thinkest, love. Lucinda. This last was represented to my mind in quite a different manner, in such lively colours that I cannot help thinking some evil is foreboded to you. Maj. AndrL Poh! Let's hear the extraordinary dream, then, that we may laugh a little at it. Lucinda. I imagined myself in a country where the skies were forever cloudy and gloomy, with frequent bursts of thunder and flashes of lightning. Among many other objects, all of which seemed disconsolate and melancholy, I saw you endeavouring to reach the summit of a sharp, craggy precipice. You leaped with surprising agility over dark gulfs and apertures therein, which no other man would have thought of passing. The spectators admired your activity and daring spirit. The continual obstacles in your way seemed nothing to you, and at length you bid fair to gain the summit, when, catching hold of a shrub, which was but slightly rooted in one of the crevices of the rock, it instantly gave way, and you tumbled to the bottom, dashed to pieces on the pointed crags and torn in a shocking manner. I shrieked out and waked. Maj. Andr^. Your dream was frightful indeed; but still it was nothing but a dream. Why, I haye imag- ined before now in my sleep that I have tumbled down ten thousand fathoms in a perpendicular line; but all this was owing to mere mechanical causes, the motion of the animal spirits or the veins being rather too replete with blood. Lucinda. Well, be it so. I hope my dream may be the forerunner of no mischief. But are you going 1781] THE SPY 53 out on a fighting expedition, sir, if I may be so bold to ask the question ? Maj. AndrL My dearest love, I will conceal noth- ing from you. I know you are the girl of a thousand for keeping a secret. It must not take air. I have corrupted General Arnold. He is to sell West Point fort to me, and this evening I am to set out and consult with him upon the fittest means to blind the eyes of the Samson and deliver up the place to Sir Henry without danger of failure. Lucinda. But could not some person be deputized for this purpose whose life is not of such value to Britain as yours ? You are a proud soul to Sir Henry Clinton. He enterprises nothing without first having your advice and direction. If you should be inter- cepted in your way by the Americans, would it not endanger your life, my dear Andr6, to be found with- out some mission or any plausible excuse for being within an enemy's lines ? Maj. Andre. You are too timorous, Lucinda. I shall go and come by water in an armed ship. I may perhaps just venture on shore in a ' of time, but shall take care not to expose myself to any danger. I well know how far to venture, but if the worst come to the worst, I can tell them I have deserted from the British. Then I shall be caressed among them till such times as I can find an opportunity to escape and join my countrymen. Lucinda. You venture all this, you say, at the request of Sir Henry ? Maj. Andr^. Yes; but chiefly to serve my country. Had I a thousand lives, I would lay them all down for Britain and my king. But I must go. You deject my ^ Here occurs an illegible word in Freneau's manuscript. 54 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [177S spirits, my girl. A woman is destructive to the spirit of enterprise in a man. Poh! I am growing melan- choly too, You must cheer my drooping soul, Lucinda. I heard you humming a little song the other day. Do let's have it. I think it begins thus: "My native shades delight no more." Lucinda. Although I am in no humour for music, you shall hear it, my love. I suppose it was made by some British officer on his setting out for America, who was as great an idolater to his king and country as most English gentlemen. \Sings My native shades delight no more,^ I haste to meet the ocean's roar, I seek a wild inclement shore Beyond the Atlantic main : 'Tis virtue calls! — I must away! — Nor care nor pleasure tempts my stay. Nor all that love himself can say, A moment shall detain. ^This poem was first published in the edition of 1786 under the title, " The English Quixote of 1778 ; or, Modern Idolatry." In the i8og edition Freneau added the following : Epilogue 'Tis so well known 'tis hardly worth relating That men have worshipped gods, though of their own creating : Art's handy work they thought they might adore. And bowed to gods that were but logs before. Idols, of old, were made of clay or wood. And, in themselves, did neither harm nor good. Acted as though they knew the good old rule, " Friend, hold thy peace, and you'll be thought no fool." Britons ! their case is yours — and linked in fate. You, like your Indian allies — good and great — Bow to some frowning block yourselves did rear. And worship wooden monarchs — out of fear. 1781] THE SPY 55 To meet those hosts who dare disown Allegiance to Britannia's throne, I draw the sword that pities none, I draw their rebel blood ; Amazement shall their troops confound. When hackt and prostrate on the ground ; My blade shall drink from every wound A life-restoring flood! The swarthy Indian, yet unbroke, Shall bind his neck to Britain's yoke. Or flee from her avenging stroke To deserts all unknown; The southern isles shall own her sway, Peru and Mexico obey, And those who yet to Satan pray Beyond the southern zone. For George the Third I dare to fall, Since he to me is all in all ; May he subdue this earthly ball And nations tribute bring. Yon western states shall wear his chain, Where traitors now with tyrants reign. And subject shall be all the main To George, our potent king. When honour calls to guard his throne, My life I dare not call my own ; My life I yield without a groan For him whom I adore. In lasting glory shall he reign, 'Tis he shall conquer France and Spain, Tho' I perhaps may ne'er again Behold my native shore. 56 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [177S Maj. AndrL You sing charmingly, Lucinda. The poor fellow's resolution pleases me. He engages to give his life, if necessary, for his king and country, and yet perhaps he feels the ingratitude of both every hour in the day. It must, however, be so. Nature has formed us with a principle of love to our native land. What say you, Lucinda ? Lucinda. It may be so, sir ; and yet that love need not carry us to such an idolatrous extravagance as is manifested in the little stanzas I had the pleasure of singing to you. Maj. AndrL Indeed you are in the right, but we are slaves to custom. Lucinda. I have sung to please you, my love ; now, if you have leisure, I would beg your attention a moment to a little ditty that pleases myself. Maj. AndrL Most gladly, my angel; I can pro- long half an hour yet in your agreeable company. [Looking at his watch Lucinda sings^ You chide me and tell me I must not complain To part a few days from my favourite swain. He is gone to the battle and leaves me to mourn, And say what you please, he will never return. When he left me he kissed me, and said, my sweet dear. In less than a month I again will be here ; With anguish and sorrow my bosom did burn. And I wept, being sure he would never return. I said, my dear creature, I beg you would stay. But he with his soldiers went strutting away. 'This lyric has been used by Freneau in his poem, "Mars and Hymen," 1781] THE SPY 57 Then why should I longer my sorrows adjourn, For I know in my heart he will never return. Whenever there's danger he loves to be there, He fights like a hero when others despair. In this expedition he goes to his urn ; You call me a fool if he ever return. Maj. AndrL The application of this I must take to myself, I suppose. Fie upon you, lady ; you need to divert me with merry jokes and a strain of wit peculiar to yourself. You now are pensive, demure, and melan- choly. You make me so, too. Lucinda. Yonder comes Sir Henry. I suppose he has some private business with you. I must retire. \_Exit Lucinda. Enter Sir Henry and others Maj. AndrL How do your Excellencies? Will you please to sit ? Sir Henry. Till you return from this important errand I am a slave to impatience. Major Andr6. I beg you would this night equip with speed. And on an eagle's wings to Arnold haste. The frigate lies at single anchor ready, And winds propitious to our purpose blow. But hark ye, friend, and tell the general then That if he can by any means at all, On any artful, plausible pretence. So manage matters and with such address As to entice the great Americ chief, At that same hour the fort is yielded to us. There to be present on some feigned business. That so we may be master of his person, Tell him if he does this his pay is double. Besides ten thousand guineas we have promised, 58 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [177S Ten thousand more with gratitude I'll pay, And think him cheaply bought. He is the soul, The great upholder of this long contention. I dread his prudence and his courage more Than all the armies that the Congress raise, Than all the troops or all the ships of France. Maj. Andrd. Well thought! I shall obey your Excellency. It is a bold and dangerous undertaking, 'Tis hazardous, but not impossible. To win on this great chief — 'tis a bright thought. He'll think himself as safe at West Point Fort As in the bosom of his spacious camp. And therefore will not hesitate to come Only attended by a score of guards. The same attempt may seize the fort and him. Sir Henry. And be precise to fix the time, when we Must take possession of the citadel. Against the hour that I expect you back Five thousand troops shall be embarked and ready To execute whatever plan you fix on. \Exit Sir Henry. Reenter Lucinda with a handkerchief to her eyes Maj. AndrL The time is come that is appointed for my departure. It is impossible that even beauty or wit or tears can now withhold me from my purpose. I have promised his Excellency and now to hesitate would prove me to be a coward, one altogether unwor- thy to be trusted with any business that requires wit and dexterity. Lucinda. Your resolution is fixed, and I do not desire you to fall from it; only if heaven should so order that any fatal accident befall you, remember the unfortunate Lucinda. She sends her good wishes along 1781] THE SPY 59 with you, and prays for all imaginable prosperity on every undertaking in which Major Andr6 bears a part. Maj. AndrL My thanks to you, my dearest. If a heart so good as thine petition heaven for my safety, I have nothing to fear. Thy prayers are my guardian angels, and will protect me in every danger. My honour calls me and I must go. Give me a parting kiss, my dear. Adieu, adieu. \He leaves her Now native courage warm my wavering breast. And fires of resolution blaze within me. For I must on a dangerous errand go. With secret cunning to deceive the foe. Whose active souls in dire connections meet, Where one false step my ruin makes complete. Ye guardian powers that still protect the brave. Some pity on distressed Britain have. By me she seeks some portion to regain Of her lost empire, tried so oft in vain. But dreadful scenes before my eyes appear, And dangers thicken as they draw more near. But soft — no dangers can my heart appal, I have a soul that can despise them all. More than an equal chance for life I see. But life and death must be the same to me. \Exit Act III. Scene I. — Robinson's house. A stormy night. Arnold. Pasquin. Arnold. How looks the weather ? Pasquin. Stormy, sir; very stormy; it blows ter- rifically and there is heavy rain. Arnold. Pasquin! Pasquin. Sir. 6o POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [177S Arnold. Tell the sentries upon duty to-night that I expect a gentleman of my acquaintance here about ten o'clock. When he comes to the outer gate, bid one of them conduct him to my apartment. Pasquin. Your honour shall be obeyed. \Exit Arnold (solus). Peace to this gloomy grove that sees me acting What open daylight would disdain to own. Ye wood, be witness of my dark designs. And shade me o'er, ye lofty eminences ; Tremendous gloom, encompass me around In clouds that wing from Greenland's foggy caves, Plutonian darkness on your pinions bring. Conceal my base intent from human view, And be the daylight still a stranger to it. Storm on, ye wind, the tempest that ye make In the broad regions of the troubled ether Is quiet to the tumult of my soul ! Departing honour, — take thy last adieu, 'Tis this night's deed that stamps me for a villain. Who comes there ? \Enter Pasquin Pasquin. Sir, there is a traveller just alighted at Sergeant Jones's quarters, who desires to know whether he can have a little private conference with you, and asked me whether you were alone or no. Arnold. A traveller? How is he dressed? Pasquin. He has on a plain suit of blue clothes, a cocked beaver hat and draw boots. He rides a common bay horse, and by his general appearance one would suppose him to be a commissary, or perhaps a quar- ter-master. Arnold. How came you to know all these particu- lars; the night being so dark and stormy? Pasquin. I had a glimpse of him by means of a 1781] THE SPY 61 lanthorn we carried out when he got off his horse. Over all, I forgot to mention, he had a fear-naught riding coat. Arnold. A plain blue suit, you say? Pasquin. Yes. Arnold. And draw boots ? Pasquin. Yes. Arnold. And wore he sword ? Pasquin. No ; he had no sword, that I saw. Arnold. And what aspect is he ? Is he a well- looking man ? Pasquin. As handsome a man, please your honour, as ever the sun shone upon. It did me good to look upon him. Arnold {aside). This must be him. [7b Pasquin Bid the sergeant show him the way to me immediately, and put up his horse in my own stable. He is from Philadelphia, a friend and relative of mine. \Exit Pasquin Arnold {solus). This is Major Andr6, indeed. We have agreed in our correspondence that he shall pass here under the name of Captain Ashton, to prevent suspicion. [Sergeant introduces Major Andre Arnold. Captain Ashton, my friend, how are you ? Please to draw near the fire and sit. How do our friends at Philadelphia ? [Exit sergeanf] The booby is now gone, and we may talk freely without sus- picion. Maj. AndrL I am happy at length to see General Arnold, with whom I have corresponded so long at a distance. I hope, my dear general, you are ready to perform your promise. Arnold. Undoubtedly the fort shall be yours within three days, upon the conditions I mentioned to you in 62 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1775 my last letter. I hope you have apprised Sir Henry of them. Maj. Andrd. Yes, sir. He is satisfied, and thinks your demand really moderate; but now let us to the point. We must fall upon some plan by which we must act without much danger of miscarriage. Would it not be best that our troops should seem to take the fort by surprise, and thus prevent the world from having any suspicion of treachery in the case ? Arnold. I have had the same thought, my dear sir. Besides, if we can make this pass, I shall become a prisoner of war to you in appearance, be exchanged after a little time, and so be in a capacity to serve you again ; or, pretending the fort not tenable, I may make my escape during your attack, and all this without any suspicion on the part of the Americans. Maj. AndrL God grant your scheme may be suc- cessful. Arnold. Now hear what I have to propose further. When you are embarked with your army, suppose one or two thousand men or more sail up the river as far as you safely can, short of the fort, and endeavour to make the country believe you are on a plundering expedition. I shall have companies out who will give me notice of all your movements. Then land your men, march up to the fort, demand a surrender, which I will absolutely refuse. Upon which hang out your bloody flag and fire against the walls point blank, without mercy. In that part of the fortress where I shall be, you will see a small white flag flying. Do not fire to that quarter. The garrison shall discharge the artillery three times over your heads, after which I will surrender and open the gates to you. Then, by not putting one of the garrison to death, which would be your right, you 1781] THE SPY 63 having stormed it, you will have an excellent opportu- nity of giving the world a new instance of British humanity. Then you may pour your troops into the fort, take possession of it, and hoist the British flag. The prisoners may immediately be sent to the shipping and ordered to New York before the Continental forces will have a chance of hindering the embarkation. What say you ? Maj. Andri. Excellently well imagined. I hope it may succeed. The money shall be paid you on your arrival at York ; but there is another service Sir Henry would fain hope you could indulge him in, and your reward shall be double. Arnold. What may it be ? Maj. Andre. He is eager to be possessed of your Commander-in-Chief. Could you contrive no way to get him into our hands ? He is the soul of this obsti- nate rebellion. Were he a prisoner to us, America would soon be ours again. Arnold (^pausing). Why, true, it would greatly facili- tate the recovery of the colonies. Let me see. I will endeavour to prevail upon him to spend a day or two at Robinson's home. Nay, I am sure he will be here next Monday, and the garrison. There are a number of dis- affected people not far from hence, whom I can engage to secure his person and convey him on board the Vul- ture ship of war. Maj. Andr^. If we become by your means pos- sessed of these two jewels, General Washington and this important fort, we shall never think the obligation sufficiently acknowledged. You will become the great- est man in the world. Britain will adore you. She will kiss the very ground you tread upon, besides lav- ishing wealth upon you by millions. 64 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1775 Arnold. She is heartily welcome to such poor ser- vices as I can render her. What I do is from principle, from the consciousness of a rectitude of heart and love to my country. Maj. AndrL Sir, you were born to be a great man. Now, if you will be pleased to deliver me the plan of the fort, signals of recognizance and other papers of conse- quence in this affair, I will be going. I do not think myself safe till such times as I get within the British lines again. Arnold. The danger is trifling. With a passport from me, you may go anywhere in these colonies. Maj. Andrd. Sir, I thank you. It may be of ser- vice indeed. Arnold. I will write it immediately. There, sir; and here is the packet. I will not detain you, because I know the business requires dispatch. You will, how- ever, sup with me, and take a glass of wine before you go. Maj. Andrd. I shall hardly have time; however, I will wait half an hour. Arnold. Walk with me into this other apartment; we soldiers do not stand upon ceremonj'. But how do you carry these papers so as to conceal them in case you meet with any over-curious persons ? Maj. Andri. I have an expedient. I can carry them in the foot of my boot. Do you see how snug they lie ? \Putting them on Arnold. Aye, faith, that was well thought of; but do not put the passport in your boot. Maj. AndrL No, no. That goes into my pocket. 1781] THE SPY 65 Scene II. — An ancient stone building in the Dutch taste. Three officers, Vincent, Ambrose, Asmith. Vincent and Asmith entering. Am. Well are we met in these sequestered wilds; Whence come ye, brothers, at so late an hour ? Vin. From scouring all the country up and down, To seize, if fortune please, illicit traders. Who are so bold and unscrupulous grown That oft in open day, as well as night. They bear large cargoes of provision down To yonder ships that still infest our river. How I detest these underhanded scoundrels. Who, hungry as the grave for British gold, Feed the vile foe that lurks within our harbours. Am. Gods! Can they be so base, — but there are they Who sell their country for a mess of pottage, — A servile, scheming race whose god is gain. Who for a little gold would stab their fathers And plunder life from her who gave them life. These are not true Americans. They are A spurious race — scum, dregs, and bastards all. They are not true Americans, I say. As. They cannot be, they help toward our ruin. But, gentlemen, I'll tell you what I think; We have so many lurking foes within. And such a potent enemy without. That I almost despair, I must confess, That ever we shall rend these thirteen States From persevering Britain, and compel Acknowledgment of independence here. Vin. Say not so. The rights of humanity, 'tis these we fight for. 66 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1775 And not to carry ruin round the globe. Appearances are so much in our favour That he who doubts that this event shall be, Must be as blind as he whose useless orbs Have never drank the radiated light. Nay, he who doubts of this, who dares to doubt (If nature be not ^ to miracles And devils rule with delegated sway) Deserves not nor is worthy to enjoy The paradise we look for. Amb. Be it so. But let us leave the great event to fate. Who soon or late will bring to light its purpose ; Our duty to our country must be done, And in so doing we its freedom hasten. But, friends, why stay we here? By yonder stars That still revolving point toward the pole, I find it must be midnight. Vin. I do expect a score of peasants here, A set of hardy, bold, and faithful fellows. Whom I can trust in all emergencies. In different parties I shall these despatch Toward the hostile lines, for I suspect That intercourse too often doth subsist Between our disaffected and the foe. Amb. And are these peasants armed ? Vin. Armed with a musquet and a bayonet ; A true and desperate soldier wants no more. As. And thirty cartridges to every man, With three days' victuals in their knapsacks stored. Amb. It is enough. I hope they will not tarry. ' An illegible word. 1781] THE SPY 6^ Scene III. — A number of armed peasants in an outhouse. 1st P. Do you know what we are sent for, brother Harry ? 2nd P. To go on some secret expedition, I suppose. 1st P. And which way shall we bend, think ye ? 2nd P. God bless you. Why do you ask such a question ? It is not for us to know where we are going. We shall know bye and bye, I warrant you, after we have marched two or three score of miles. 1st P. And where are our officers ? 2nd P. They are in the adjoining house. They will be with us presently. jrd P. And how shall we pass the time till they come ? 2nd P. O, merrily enough. We can dance and sing. 1st P. Harry, you can sing. Give us a song. 2nd P. [Sings Ours not to sleep in shady bowers,^ When frosts are chilling all the plain. And nights are cold and long the hours To check the ardor of the swain. Who parting from his cheerful fire All comforts doth forego. And here and there And everywhere Pursues the prowling foe. 2nd P. How like you that ? 1 This poem had also been used in " Mars and Hymen." In later editions it was printed as a distinct lyric, with the title " The Northern Soldier." The present version, reprinted from Freneau's manuscript, will be seen to differ considerably from the others. 68 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1775 3rd P. O, very well. I love to hear anything that touches upon the hardships of a soldier's life. 4.th P. Give us the rest ; give us the rest. 1 love that song, Harry. 2nd P. But we must sleep in frost and snows, No season shuts up our campaign ; Hard as the oaks, we dare oppose The autumn's or the winter's reign. Alike to us the winds that blow In summer's season gay, Or those that rave On Hudson's wave And drift his ice away. For Liberty, celestial maid. With joy all hardships we endure. In her blest smiles we are repaid. In her protection are secure. Then rise superior to the foe, Ye freeborn souls of fire ; Respect these arms, 'Tis freedom warms. To noble deeds aspire. Winter and death may change the scene. The cold may freeze, the ball may kill. And dire misfortunes intervene ; But freedom shall be potent still To drive these Britons from our shore. Who, cruel and unkind. With slavish chain Attempt in vain Our freeborn limbs to bind. 1781] THE SPY 69 Pasq. O, excellent — " Our freeborn limbs to bind " — by my soul, they never shall bind mine. Harry, give us another song on our affairs and then we'll be ready. All. Ay, ay; another, another. 2nd P. I have not many by heart. I do recollect one at present, but it was made at the beginning of the war. All. No matter, no matter; let's hear it. 2nd P. \Sings The cohorts of Britain are now all complete. She has brushed up her soldiers and manned out her fleet; The lion has roared whose trade is to kill. And we are the victims whose blood he must spill. But ere I am slaughtered and wrapped in a shroud I must tell you the motive that makes him so proud. The monkeys and puppies that bow to his rule Have told him a lie and deceived the old fool. They say we are cowards, not dressed in red coats. That he without danger may cut all our throats ; If we see but a Briton, confounded with fear, We'll throw down our muskets and run like a deer. That one thousand men with a captain would dare To march from New Hampshire to Georgia, they swear. But here lies the trick of these wonderful men, They tell us they'll do it, but do not say when. Such a motive to fight would you ever conceive. Yet such is the motive that makes him so brave. 70 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1775 On such a presumption, in hopes of applause, He whets up his grinders and sharpens his claws. But hark, Mr. Lion, and be not so stout. In fancy alone you have put us to rout. To show you how little your threat'nings avail, Here's a kick at your breech and a clip at your tail.^ But everything seems poisoned where I tread, And I am tortured to perfection. [^ExtL Enter an officer of the guard Scene IV. — -Another apartment in said house. Enter Aide to Gen. Arnold. Aide. General Arnold here ? Jeff. Two hours have hardly yet elapsed since he Across the river to the garrison On some important business went in haste, So as I told to his attendant here. For since the general parted I arrived. Is he, then, at the garrison ? by heaven, We'll have him in a trice. Aide. You'll have him in a trice. Pray, what means that? Jeff, I see your ignorance, my honest friend. Why such a damned, unnatural plot has happened That when I mention it, if you have feeling. At the first word your blood must chill with horror And admiration shake your very soul. This traitor Arnold, this vile, abandoned traitor, This monster of ingratitude unequalled, ' A part of the manuscript is missing at this point. 1781] THE SPY 71 Has been conspiring with an English spy To render up the fort to General Clinton. Aide. What fort ? the fort at West Point, mean you ? Jeff. The fort at West Point, on my sacred honour, The garrison, dependencies, and stores. And, what is more, the person of our leader. Five thousand troops at York are now embarked. And even wait this night to take possession. Aide. Is this reality ; sure you are jesting. And yet you serious seem to be of countenance. Lips that quiver, eyes that glow with passion. Tempt me to think your story may be true. And yet I doubt it. Came you here to seize him ? Jeff. Nay, doubt it not. I have the papers with me That at a glance betray this horrid treason. Aide. For what could he do this? Was it Resentment, Avarice, Ambition That prompted him to act the traitor's part ? And yet I'm sure it never could be avarice. His country lavishes her wealth upon him ; He has the income of a little king. And perquisites that by a hundred ways Not only the base wants of life supply. But deck him out in elegance and grandeur. Perhaps, indeed, he has ambitious views : He aims to make his court to Britain's king, And rise upon the ruins of his country. Perhaps it is resentment and disgust. For many hate him, and have often said He fattens on the plunder of the public. Jeff. 'Tis avarice, sir, that base, unmanly motive. The glare of British gold has captivated This hero, as we thought him. What a curse. 72 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1775 That human souls can of such stuff be moulded, That they, foregoing fame and character. E'en for the sake of what is despicable, Be foe to virtue and to virtue's friend* But such are to be found, and every age has seen 'em, Who, for the sake of mere external show. Some qualities that seemed to them attractive * ' Here the manuscript ends abruptly. . PART III ERA OF THE FREEMAN'S JOURNAL 1 78 1 — 1790 ERA OF THE FREEMAN'S JOURNAL 1781 — 1790^ ON THE MEMORABLE VICTORY^ Obtained by the gallant Captain Paul Jones, of the Good Man- Richard, over the Seraphis, etc., under the command of Captain Pearson. Written August, 1781 O'er the rough main with flowing sheet The guardian of a numerous fleet, Seraphis from the Baltic came ; A ship of less tremendous force Sail'd by her side the self-same course, Countess of ScarVro' was her name. 'This period began in August, 1781, when Freneau became connected with Mr. Francis Bailey's Freeman's Journal, in Philadelphia. In June, 1784, he left Philadelphia for a wandering career upon the ocean, which continued until 1790, when his assumption of the editorship of the New York Adver- tiser and his marriage put an end for a time to his wanderings. The greater part of the poems written during this period appeared originally in the Free- man's Journal. ^ This was the first poem contributed by Freneau to the Freeman's Jour- nal. It appeared August 8, 1781. The exploit of Jones is too well known to need further comment ; it took place September 23, 1779. The text follows the edition of 1786. 76 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 2 And now their native coasts appear, Britannia's hills their summits rear Above the German main ; Fond to suppose their dangers o'er, They southward coast along the shore, Thy waters, gentle Thames, to gain. 3 Full forty guns Serapkis bore. And Scarb'ro's Countess twenty-four, Mann'd with Old England's boldest tars — What flag that rides the Gallic seas Shall d-are attack such piles as these, Design'd for tumults and for wars ! 4 Now from the top-mast's giddy height A seaman cry'd — " Four sail in sight "Approach with favouring gales;" Pearson, resolv'd to save the fleet. Stood off to sea these ships to meet. And closely brac'd his shivering sails. 5 With him advanc'd the Countess bold, Like a black tar in wars grown old : And now these floating piles drew nigh ; But, muse, unfold what chief of fame In th' other warlike squadron came, Whose standards at his mast head fly. 6 'Twas Jones, brave Jones, to battle led As bold a crew as ever bled Upon the sky surrounded main ; I79°] ON A MEMORABLE VICTORY "JJ The Standards of the Western World Were to the willing winds unfurl'd, Denying Britain's tyrant reign. 7 The Good Man Richard led the line ; The Alliance next: with these combine The Gallic ship they Pallas call : The Vengeance, arm'd with sword and flame, These to attack the Britons came — But two accomplish'd all. 8 Now Phoebus sought his pearly bed : But who can tell the scenes of dread, The horrors of that fatal night! Close up these floating castles came; The Good Man Richard bursts in flame; Seraphis trembled at the sight. 9 She felt the fury of her ball, Down, prostrate down, the Britons fall ; The decks were strew'd with slain : Jones to the foe his vessel lash'd ; And, while the black artillery flash'd, Loud thunders shook the main. lO Alas ! that mortals should employ Such murdering engines, to destroy That frame by heav'n so nicely join'd ; Alas ! that e'er the god decreed That brother should by brother bleed. And pour'd such madness in the mind. 78 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 II But thou, brave Jones, no blame shalt bear; The rights of men demand thy care : For these you dare the greedy waves — No tyrant on destruction bent Has planned thy conquests — thou art sent To humble tyrants and their slaves. 12 See ! — dread Ser aphis flames again — And art thou, Jones, among the slain. And sunk to Neptune's caves below — He lives — though crowds around him fall. Still he, unhurt, survives them all; Almost alone he fights the foe. 13 And can thy ship these strokes sustain ? Behold thy brave companions slain. All clasp'd in ocean's dark embrace. "Strike, or be sunk! " — the Briton cries — " Sink, if you can ! " — the chief replies, Fierce lightnings blazing in his face. 14 Then to the side three guns he drew, (Almost deserted by his crew) And charg'd them deep with woe : By Pearson's flash he aim'd the balls ; His main-mast totters — down it falls — Tremendous was the blow.^ ' "Overwhelming half below." — Ed. ifgS- I79°] ON A MEMORABLE VICTORY 79 15 Pearson as yet disdain'd to yield, But scarce his secret fears conceal'd, And thus was heard to cry — "With hell, not mortals, I contend; "What art thou — human, or a fiend, " That dost my force defy ? 16 "Return, my lads, the fight renew! " So call'd bold Pearson to his crew ; But call'd, alas ! in vain ; Some on the decks lay maim'd and dead ; Some to their deep recesses fled, And more were bury'd in the main.^ 17 Distress'd, forsaken, and alone, He haul'd his tatter'd standard down, And yielded to his gallant foe ; Bold Pallas soon the Countess took, Thus both their haughty colours struck. Confessing what the brave can do. 18 But, Jones, too dearly didst thou buy These ships possest so gloriously. Too many deaths disgrac'd the fray : Thy barque that bore the conquering flame. That the proud Briton overcame, Even she forsook thee on thy way ; ^ " And hosts were shrouded in the main." — Ed. lygs- 8o POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 19 For when the morn began to shine, Fatal to her, the ocean brine Pour'd through each spacious wound ; Quick in the deep she disappear'd, But Jones to friendly Belgia steer'd. With conquest and with glory crown'd. 20 Go on, great man, to daunt the foe. And bid the haughty Britons know They to our Thirteen Stars shall bend ; The Stars that veil'd in dark attire, Long glimmer'd with a feeble fire, But radiant now ascend ; ^ 21 Bend to the Stars that flaming rise In western, not in eastern, skies. Fair Freedom's reign restor'd. So when the Magi, come from far, Beheld the God-attending Star, They trembled and ador'd. 179°] AN ADDRESS 8 1 AN ADDRESS! To the Commander-in-Chief, Officers, and Soldiers of the American Army Accept, great men, that share of honest praise A grateful nation to your merit pays : Verse is too mean your merit to display. And words too weak our praises to convey. When first proud Britain raised her hostile hand With claims unjust to bind our native land. Transported armies, and her millions spent To enforce the mandate that a tyrant sent; "Resist! resist! " was heard through every state. You heard the call, and feared your country's fate; Then rising fierce in arms, for war arrayed, You taught to vanquish those who dared invade. Those British chiefs whom former wars had crowned With conquest — and in every clime renowned ; Who forced new realms to own their monarch's law, And whom even George beheld with secret awe — Those mighty chiefs, compelled to fly or yield. Scarce dared to meet you on the embattled field ; To Boston's port you chased the trembling crew, Quick, even from thence the British veterans flew — ' First published in Ha^ Freeman! s Journal, Septembers, 1781, under the title " To his Excellency General Washington," and reprinted without change in the edition of 1786. The same paper contained the following news item : " On Thursday, the 30th of August, 'at one o'clock in the afternoon, his excel- lency General Washington, Commander-in-chief of the American Armies, accompanied by the Generals Rochambeau and Chattelux, with their respective suites, arrived in this city.'' The early version was addressed wholly to Wash- ington, the opening line reading, "Accept, great chief," etc. For the edition of 1795 it was changed to include officers and soldiers. 82 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Through wintry waves they fled, and thought each wave Their last, best safety from a foe so brave ! ' What men, like you, our warfare could command. And bring us safely to the promised land ? — Not swoln with pride, ^ with victory elate — 'Tis in misfortune you are doubly great: When Howe victorious our weak armies chased. And, sure of conquest, laid Cesarea waste, When prostrate, bleeding, at his feet she lay, And the proud victor tore her wreathes away, Each gallant chief put forth his warlike hand And raised the drooping genius of the land, Repelled the foe, their choicest warriors slain. And drove them howling to their ships again. While others kindle into martial rage Whom fierce ambition urges to engage. An iron race, by angry heaven designed To conquer first and then enslave mankind ; Here chiefs and heroes* more humane we see, They venture life, that others may be free. O ! may you live to hail that glorious day When Britain homeward shall pursue her way — That race subdued, who filled the world with slain And rode tyrannic o'er the subject main! — What few presumed, you boldly have atchieved, A tyrant humbled, and a world relieved. O Washington, who leadst this glorious train, ^ Still may the fates thy valued life maintain. — 1"* * * they fled, and thought the sea With all its storms less terrible than thee ! " — Ed. 1^86. ''■ " Not Clinton-like." — lb. ' "You undismay'd." — lb. * " In him a hero." — /*. ^ This and the line following not in the original version. I79°] AN ADDRESS 83 Rome's boasted chiefs, who, to their own disgrace. Proved the worst scourges of the human race. Pierced by whose darts a thousand nations bled. Who captive princes at their chariots led; Born to enslave, to ravage, and subdue — Return to nothing when compared to you ; Throughout the world your growing fame has spread, In every country are your virtues read ; Remotest India hears your deeds of fame. The hardy Scythian stammers at your name ; The haughty Turk, now longing to be free, Neglects his Sultan to enquire of thee ; The barbarous Briton hails you to his shores. And calls him Rebel, whom his heart adores. Still may the heavens prolong your vital date, And still may conquest on your banners wait: Whether afar to ravaged lands you go. Where wild Potowmac's rapid waters flow. Or where Saluda laves the fertile plain And, swoln by torrents, rushes to the main ; Or if again to Hudson you repair To smite the cruel foe that lingers there — Revenge their cause, whose virtue was their crime. The exiled hosts from Carolina's clime. Late from the world in quiet mayest thou rise And, mourned by millions, reach your native skies — With patriot kings and generous chiefs to shine. Whose virtues raised them to be deemed divine : May Vasa* only equal honours claim, Alike in merits — not the first in fame ! *Gustavus Vasa of Sweden, the deliverer of his country. — Freneau^s note. In the earlier editions this read Louis. First changed for the edition of 1795. 84 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 A NEW-YORK TORY" To His Friend in Philadelpliia Dear Sir, I'm so anxious to hear of your health, I beg you would send me a letter by stealth : I hope a few months will quite alter the case, When the wars are concluded, we'll meet and embrace. For I'm led to believe from our brilliant success. And, what is as clear, your amazing distress, That the cause of rebellion has met with a check That will bring all its patrons to hang by the neck. Cornwallis has managed so well in the South, Those rebels want victuals to put in their mouth ; And Arnold has stript them, we hear, to the buff^ — Has burnt their tobacco, and left them — the snufi. Dear Thomas, I wish you would move from that town Where meet all the rebels of fame and renown ; When our armies, victorious, shall clear that vile nest You may chance, though a Tory, to swing with the rest. But again — on reflection — I beg you would stay — You may serve us yet better than if moved away — Give advice to Sir Harry of all that is passing, What vessels are building, what cargoes amassing ; ^ Freeman! s Journal, September 5, 1781. ''■ Cornwallis, in command of the British army in the South, was in the early part of 1781 working his way steadily northward from South Carolina. Benedict Arnold arrived in the Chesapeake, January 2, 1781, and, supported by the British navy there, committed extensive ravages on the rivers and unprotected coasts of Virginia. Arnold offered to spare Richmond if he were given its stores of tobacco. The offer being rejected, the city with its tobacco was burned. 1790] A NEW-YORK TORY TO HIS FRIEND 85 Inform, to a day, when those vessels will sail. That our cruisers may capture them all, without fail — By proceedings like these, your peace will be made, The rebellious shall swing, but be you ne'er afraid. I cannot conceive how you do to subsist — The rebels are starving, except those who 'list; And as you reside in the land of Gomorrah, You must fare as the rest do, I think, to your sorrow. Poor souls! if ye knew what a doom is decreed, (I mean not for you, but for rebels indeed), You would tremble to think of the vengeance in store, The halters and gibbets — I mention no more. The rebels must surely conclude they're undone, Their navy is ruined, their armies have run ; It is time they should now from delusion awaken — The rebellion is done — for the Trumbull^ is taken ! ^ The American frigate Trumbull, 20, Captain James Nicholson, was chased off the capes of the Delaware, August 8th, 1781, by three British cruisers. As it was blowing heavily towards night, the fore-topmast of the Trumbull was carried away by a squall, bringing down with it, on deck, the main-topgallant mast. About ten o'clock at night, one of the British vessels, the Iris, 32, came up and closed with her while still encumbered with the wreck. " In the midst of rain and squalls, in a tempestuous night, with most of the forward hamper of the ship over her bows, or lying on the forecastle, with one of the arms of the fore-topsail yard run through her fore-sail, and the other jammed on deck, and with a disorganized crew. Captain Nicholson found himself compelled to go to quarters, or to strike without resistance. He pre- ferred the first ; but the English volunteers, instead of obeying orders, went below, extinguished the lights, and secreted themselves. Near half of the remainder of the people imitated this example, and Captain Nicholson could not muster fifty of even the diminished crew he had, at the guns. The battle that followed might almost be said to have been fought by the ofiicers. These brave men, sustained by a party of the petty ofiicers and seamen, managed a few of the guns for more than an hour, when the General Monk, 18, coming up and joining in the fire of the Iris, the Trumbull submitted." — Cooper's Naval History. — \_DuyckincKs note, ed. of iSdj. 86 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 TO LORD CORNWALLIS^ At York, Virginia Hail, great destroyer (equalled yet by none) Of countries not your master's, nor your own ; Hatched by some demon on a stormy day, Satan's best substitute to burn and slay ; Confined at last, hemmed in by land and sea, Burgoyne himself was but a type of thee ! Like his, to freedom was your deadly hate, Like his your baseness, and be his your fate : To you, like him, no prospect Nature yields. But ruined wastes and desolated fields^ — In vain you raise the interposing wall, And hoist those standards that, like you, must fall, In you conclude the glories of your race, Complete your monarch's and your own disgrace. What has your lordship's pilfering arms attained ? — Vast stores of plunder, but no State regained — That may return, though you perhaps may groan, Restore it, Charley,^ for 'tis not your own — Then, lord and soldier, headlong to the brine Rush down at once — the devil and the swine. Wouldst thou at last with Washington engage. Sad object of his pity, not his rage ? ' This did not appear in the Freeman s Journal, In the edition of 1786 it bore the title, "To Lord Cornwallis, at York, Virginia, October 8, 1781." ^ Cornwallis arrived in Virginia from his Southern campaign early in the summer of 1781, and immediately began with extreme vigor to subjugate that State. His cruelty and severity were exceptional, even in the annals of war. " The Americans of that day," says Bancroft, "computed that Cornwallis, in his midsummer marchings up and down Virginia, destroyed property to the value of three million pounds sterling." '"Ruffian."— £a'./7j'6. 179°] A LONDON DIALOGUE 87 See, round thy posts how terribly advance The chiefs, the armies, and the fleets of France ; ^ Fight while you can, for warlike Rochambeau Aims at your head his last decisive blow, Unnumbered ghosts from earth untimely sped, Can take no rest till you, like them, are dead — Then die, my Lord ; that only chance remains To wipe away dishonourable stains. For small advantage would your capture bring, The plundering servant of a bankrupt king. A LONDON DIALOGUE 2 Between My Lords, Dunmore and Germaine Dunmore Ever since I return'd to my dear native shore. No poet in Grubstreet was ever dunned more — I'm dunned by my barber, my taylor, my groom ; How can I do else than to fret and to fume ? They join to attack me with one good accord, From morning till night 'tis "my lord, and my lord." And there comes the cobler, so often denied — If I had him in private, I'd thresh his tough hide. ' On October 8th, Comwallis, at York, was surrounded by the American army, who had just completed the first line of trenches. The redoubts were so far enough completed on the gth that the Americans and French felt ready to begin the bombardment of the British works. ^ Freeman' s Journal, September ig, 1781. The original title, the one used in the 1786 edition, was " Dialogue between the Lords Dunmore and Mans- field." Lord Dunmore was Governor of Virginia at the beginning of the war, in 1775, and was driven from that State by the outraged colonists. He con- tinued in America, in various capacities, until near the close of the war. Lord George Germaine was Colonial Secretary under George III., and so had charge of the American War. 88 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Germaine Would you worry the man that has found you in shoes? Come, courage, my lord, I can tell you good news — Virginia is conquered, the rebels are banged,^ You are now to go over and see them safe hanged : I hope it is not to your nature abhorrent To sign for these wretches a handsome death warrant — Were I but in your place, I'm sure it would suit To sign their death warrants, and hang them to boot. Dunmore My lord! — I'm amazed — have we routed the foe ? — I shall govern again then, if matters be so — And as to the hanging, in short, to be plain, I'll hang them so well, they'll ne'er want it again. With regard to the wretches who thump at my gates, I'll discharge all their dues with the rebel estates; In less than three months I may send a polacca As deep as she'll swim, sir, with corn and tobacco. Germaine And send us some rebels — a dozen or so — They'll serve here in London by way of a show ; And as to the Tories, believe me, dear cousin. We can spare you some hundreds to pay for the dozen. ^Alluding to the vigorous campaign of Comwallis. In June, Germaine had written to Comwallis : "The rapidity of your movements is justly matter of astonishment to all Europe." On August 2nd he wrote : "I see nothing to prevent the recovery of the whole country to the King's obedience." 179°] LORD CORNWALLIS TO CLINTON LORD CORNWALLIS TO SIR HENRY CLINTONi [From York, Virginia] From clouds of smoke, and flames that round me glow, To you, dear Clinton, I disclose my woe : Here cannons flash, bombs glance, and bullets fly; Not Arnold's^ self endures such misery. Was I foredoomed in tortures^ to expire. Hurled to perdition in a blaze of fire ? With these blue flames can mortal man contend — What arms can aid me, or what walls defend ? Even to these gates last night a phantom strode, And hailed me trembling to his dark abode : Aghast I stood, struck motionless and dumb, Seized with the horrors of the world to come. Were but my power as mighty as my rage. Far different battles would Cornwallis wage ; Beneath his sword yon' threat'ning hosts should groan. The earth would quake with thunders all his own. O crocodile ! had I thy flinty hide. Swords to defy, and glance the balls aside, By my own prowess would I rout the foe. With my own javelin would I work their woe — But fates averse, by heaven's supreme decree, Nile's serpent formed more excellent than me. 'First published in the Freeman's Journal, October 17, 1781, two days before the final surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown. " On the seventeenth [of September] Cornwallis reported to Clinton : ' This place is in no state of defence. If you cannot relieve me very soon, you must be prepared to hear the worst.' " — Bancroft. » " Satan's seU."—Ed. 17S6. ' " Like Kovah/'—Ii. 90 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Has heaven, in secret, for some crime decreed That I should suffer, and my soldiers bleed ? Oris it by the jealous powers concealed, That I must bend, and they ignobly yield ? Ah! no — the thought o'erwhelms my soul with grief: Come, bold Sir Harry, come to my relief; Come, thou brave man, whom rebels Tombstone call. But Britons, Graves^ — come Digby, devil and all; Come, princely William, with thy potent aid. Can George's blood by Frenchmen be dismayed ? From a king's uncle once Scotch rebels run. And shall not these be routed by a son ? Come with your ships to this disastrous shore, Come — or I sink — and sink to rise no more ; By every motive that can sway the brave Haste, and my feeble, fainting army save ; Come, and lost empire o'er the deep regain. Chastise these upstarts that usurp the main ; I see their first rates to the charge advance, I see lost Iris wear the flags of France ; There a strict rule the wakeful Frenchman keeps ; There, on no bed of down. Lord Rawdon sleeps! Tired with long acting on this bloody stage. Sick of the follies of a wrangling age. Come with your fleet, and help me to retire To Britain's coast, the land of my desire — For, me the foe their certain captive deem. And every trifler^ takes me for his theme — Long, much too long in this hard service tried. Bespattered still, be-deviled, and belied ; ^ "Lord Sandwich, after the retirement of Howe, gave the naval command at New York to officers without ability ; and the aged Arbuthnot was suc- ceeded by Graves, a coarse and vulgar man of mean ability, and without skill in his profession." — Bancroft. 2 "School-boy."— ^rf. 1786. I790] THE VANITY OF EXISTENCE 9I With the first chance that favouring fortune sends I fly, converted, from this land of fiends; Convinced, for me, she has no gems in store, Nor leaves one triumph, even to hope for more. THE VANITY OF EXISTENCE^ To Thyrsis In youth, gay scenes attract our eyes. And not suspecting their decay Life's flowery fields before us rise, Regardless of its winter day. But vain pursuits and joys as vain, Convince us life is but a dream. Death is to wake, to rise again To that true life you best esteem. So nightly on some shallow tide. Oft have I seen a splendid show ; Reflected stars on either side. And glittering moons were seen below. But when the tide had ebbed away. The scene fantastic with it fled, A bank of mud around me lay, And sea-weed on the river's bed. 'Published in the Freeman's Journal, October 24, 1781, under the title ' A Moral Thought," and reprinted without change in the edition of 1786. 92 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 ON THE FALL OF GENERAL EARL CORN- WALLIS Who, with above seven thousand Men, surrendered themselves prisoners of war to the renowned and illustrious General George Wash- ington, Commander-in-chief of the allied armies of France and America, on the memorable 19th of October, 178 1.' ' ' Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths, " That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile " Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh, ' ' Before this earthly prison of their bones ; ' ' That so the shadows be not unappeas'd, " Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth." — Shakespeare' s Titus Andronicus, Act I, Scene II. A Chieftain join'dwith^ Howe, Burgoyne, and Gage, Once more, nor this the last, provokes my rage — Who saw these Nimrods first for conquest burn ! Who has not seen them to the dust return ? This ruffian* next, who scour'd our ravag'd fields, Foe to the human race,* Cornwallis yields! — None e'er before essay'd such desperate crimes, Alone he stood, arch-butcher of the times, ^This title was changed for the edition of 1795 by leaving out the words "the renowned and illustrious General George Washington, Commander-in- chief of," and also the quotation from Shakespeare. The same title was used in 1 809, with the added quotation ; ' ' One brilliant game our arms have won to-day. Another, Princes, yet remains to play. Another mark our arrows must attain — Gallia assist I — nor be our efforts vain." — Horn. Odyssey, Book XXII. In the issue of the Freeman's Journal of October 24, 1781, the editor ^ \^Continued on page gj. * " Formed on." — Ed. i^gj. ' "Conqueror." — lb. * " Foe to the rights of man."— /^. 1790] ON THE FALL OF CORNWALLIS 93 Rov'd uncontroul'd this wasted country o'er, Strew'd plains with dead, and bath'd his jaws with gore ?^ 'Twas thus the wolf, who sought by night his prey, And plunder'd all he met with on his way, Stole what he could, and murder'd as he pass'd, Chanc'd on a trap, and lost his head at last. What pen can write, what human tongue can tell The endless murders of this man of hell!^ Nature in him disgrac'd the form divine ; (Nature mistook, she meant him for a — swine : That eye his forehead to her shame adorns ; Blush! nature, blush — bestow him tail and horns|-i— By him the orphans mourn — the widow'd dame Saw ruin spreading in the wasteful flfame ; Gash'd o'er with wounds beheld with streaming eye A son, a brother, or a consort, die ! — voiced his joy by printing the following in large letters, that covered more than half of the first page of the paper : BE IT REMEMBERED That on the 17th day of October, 1781, Lieut, General Charles Earl Cornwallis with above 5000 British troops surrendered themselves prisoners of war to his excel- lency Gen. George Washington, commander in chief of the allied forces of France and America. LAUS DEO !— Two weeks later, in the issue of November 7th, Freneau printed the above poem. It was so mutilated and changed for the edition of 1795 that I have reproduced the text of the 1786 edition, which was printed verbatim from the newspaper, and have indicated in the footnotes the most significant changes. ^ This does not overdo the contemporary estimate of Cornwallis. Attempt- ing to crush at once the American rebellion by the use of the harshest measures, he inaugurated a veritable reign of terror. " Cruel measures seek and find cruel agents ; officers whose delight was in blood patrolled the country, burned houses, ravaged estates, and put to death whom they would. . . . For two years cold-blooded assassinations, often in the house of the victim and in the presence of his wife and little children, were perpetrated by men holding the king's commission." — Bancroft. ^ " Lord of war." — Ed. lygS- 94 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Through ruin'd realms bones lie without a tomb, And souls he sped to their eternal doom, Who else had liv'd, and seen their toils again Bless'd by the genius of the rural reign. But turn your eyes, and see the murderer fall,^ Then say — " Cornwallis has atchiev'd it all." — Yet he preserves the honour and the fame That vanquish'd heroes only ought to claim — Is he a hero! — Read, and you will fund Heroes are beings of a different kind : — Compassion to the worst of men is due, And mercy heaven's first attribute, 'tis true ; Yet most presume it was too nobly done To grant mild terms to Satan's first-born son. Convinc'd we are, no foreign spot on earth But Britain only, gave this reptile^ birth. That white-cliff'd isle, the vengeful dragon's^ den. Has sent us monsters where we look'd for men. When memory paints their horrid deeds anew. And brings these murdering miscreants to your view. Then ask the leaders of these bloody bands. Can they expect compassion at our hands ? — But may this year, the glorious eighty-one. Conclude successful, as it first begun ; * This brilliant year their total downfall see. And what Cornwallis is, may Clinton be.^ O come the time, nor distant be the day. When our bold navy shall its wings display ; Mann'd by our sons, to seek that barbarous shore," The wrongs revenging that their fathers bore : ^This line and the nine following lines were omitted from the edition of 1795. ^ "Warrior."— ^rf, lyg^. * "And all wars be done."— /(5. ' " Tyrant's."— 73. 5 " Sir Henry be."— 7^. * " Manned by brave souls, to see the British shore." — lb. 1790] ON THE FALL OF CORNWALLIS 95 As Samuel hew'd the tyrant Agag down,^ So hew the wearer of the British crown ; Unpitying, next his hated offspring slay, Or into foreign lands the fiends convey : ^ Give them their turn to pine and die in chains, 'Till not one monster^ of the race remains. Thou, who resid'st on those thrice happy shores, Where white rob'd peace her envied blessings pours. Stay, and enjoy the pleasures that she yields ; But come not, stranger, to our wasted fields. For warlike hosts on every plain appear, War damps the beauties of the rising year : In vain the groves their bloomy sweets display ; War's clouded winter chills the charms of May : Here human blood the trampled harvest stains ; Here bones of men yet whiten all the plains ; Seas teem with dead ; and our unhappy shore Forever blushes with its children's gore. But turn your eyes — behold the tyrant fall. And think* — Cornwallis has atchiev'd it all. — All mean revenge Americans disdain, Oft have they prov'd it, and now prove again ; With nobler fires their generous bosoms glow ; Still in the captive they forget the foe : — • But when a nation takes a wrongful cause, And hostile turns to heaven's and nature's laws ; When, sacrificing at ambition's shrine, Kings slight the mandates of the power divine, And devastation spread on every side. To gratify their malice or their pride, 1 "As earthquakes shook the huge Colossus down." — Ed. i^g^. ^ " By force convey."— /<5. ' " Tyrant."— /i5. * "Nor say." — Id. 96 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 And send their slaves their projects to fulfil, To wrest our freedom, or our blood to spill : — Such to forgive, is virtue too sublime ; For even compassion has been found a crime. A prophet once, for miracles renown'd, Bade Joash smite the arrows on the ground — Taking the mystic shafts, the prince obey'd, Thrice smote them on the earth — and then he stay'd — Griev'd when he saw full victory deny'd, "Six times you should have smote," the prophet cry'd, "Then had proud Syria sunk beneath thy power, "Now thrice you smite her — but shall smite no more." '"Cornwallis ! thou art rank'd among the great; Such was the will of all-controuling fate. As mighty men, who liv'd in days of yore. Were figur'd out some centuries before; So you with them in equal honour join, Your great precursor's name was Jack Burgoyne ! Like you was he, a man in arms renown'd, Who, hot for conquest, sail'd the ocean round ; This, this was he, who scour'd the woods for praise. And burnt down cities* to describe the blaze J^j So, while on fire, his harp Rome's tyrant strung. And as the buildings flam'd, old Nero sung. Who would have guess'd the purpose of the fates. When that proud boaster bow'd to conquering Gates ! — Then sung the sisters t as the wheel went round, (Could we have heard the invigorating sound) Thus surely did the fatal sisters sing — "When just four years do this same season bring, * Charlestown, near Boston. See his letter on that occasion. — Freneaiis note. The poet has satirized Burgoyne's literary pretentions in the ' ' Voyage to Boston," q. V. t The Parccc, or Fates, who, according to the Heathen mythology, were three in number. — lb. 1790] ON THE FALL OF CORNWALLIS 97 "And in his annual journey, when the sun "Four times completely shall his circuit run, "An angel then shall rid you of your fears, "By binding Satan for a thousand years, "Shall lash the serpent^ to the infernal shore, "To waste the nations and deceive no more, "Make wars and blood, and tyranny to cease, "And hush the fiends of Britain^ into peace." Joy to your lordship, and your high descent, You are the Satan that the sisters meant. Too soon you found your race of ruin run, Your conquests ended, and your battles done ! But that to live is better than to die, And life you chose, though life with infamy. You should have climb'd your loftiest vessel's deck,' And hung a millstone round your halter'd neck — * Then plung'd forever to the wat'ry bed, Hell in your heart, and vengeance on your head.® All must confess, that in regard to you,* 'Twas wrong to rob the devil of his due — For Hayne, for Hayne!^ no death but thine atones; TFor thee, Cornwallis, how the gallows groans ! That injur'd man's, and all the blood you've shed. That blood shall rest on your devoted head ; ^ " His godship." — Ed. J7gS- ^ "The rage of Europe." — lb. '"Mast."—/*. * " Took one sad survey of your wanton waste." — Jb. * " Lost all your honours — even your memory dead." — lb. * This and the five following lines omitted in edition of 1795. ' An allusion to the brutal execution of the patriot, Isaac Hayne, of Charlestown, by General Rawdon, in the summer of 1781. The guilt of this crime rests almost wholly upon Rawdon. Yet ' ' his first excuse for the execu- tion was in the order of Cornwallis which had filled the woods of Carolina with assassins." — Bancroft. 98 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Asham'd to live, and yet afraid to die, Your courage slacken'd as the foe drew nigh — Ungrateful wretch, to yield your favourite band To chains and prisons in a hostile land : To the wide world your Negro friends to cast, And leave your Tories to be hang'd at lastj-j- You should have fought with horror and amaze, 'Till scorch'd to cinders in the cannon blaze, 'Till all your host of Beelzebubs' was slain, Doom'd to disgrace no human shape again — As if from hell this horned host he drew,^ Swift from the South the embodied ruffians^ flew; Destruction follow'd at their cloven feet, 'Till you, Fayette, constrain'd them to retreat. And held them close, 'till thy fam'd squadron came, De Grasse, completing their eternal shame. When the loud cannon's unremitting glare And red hot balls compell'd you to despair. How could you stand to meet your generous foe ? Did not the sight confound your soul with woe ? — In thy great soul what god-like virtues shine, What inborn greatness, Washington, is thine! — Else had no prisoner trod these lands to-day, All, with his lordship, had been swept away, All doom'd alike death's vermin to regale. Nor one been left to tell the dreadful tale ! But his own terms the vanquish'd murderer* nam'd — He nobly gave the miscreant^ all he claim'd. And bade Cornwallis, conquer'd and distress'd, Bear all his torments in his tortur'd breast. ' "Gog-magogs." — Ed. lyqS- * "From depth of woods this hornet host he drew." — lb. ' " Envenom'd ruffians." — lb. * "The mean invader." — lb. * " The prisoner." — lb. 1790] ON THE FALL OF CORNWALLIS 99 Now curs'd with life, a foe to man and God, Like Cain, I drive you to the land of Nod. He with a brother's blood his hands did stain. One brother he, you have a thousand slain. And, O! may heaven affix some public mark^ To know Cornwallis — may he howl and bark! — On eagle's wings explore your downward flight^ To the deep horrors of the darkest night,^ Where, rapt in shade on ocean's utmost bound,* No longer sun, nor moon, nor stars are found ; Where never light her kindling radiance shed. But the dark comets rove with all their dead,* Doom'd through the tracks of endless space to run No more revolving to confound the sun^ Such horrid deeds your spotted soul' defame We grieve to think your shape and ours the same ! Enjoy what comfort in this life you can,* The form you have, not feelings of a man ; Haste to the rocks, thou curse to human kind. There thou may'st wolves and brother tygers find ; Eternal exile be your righteous doom And gnash your dragon's teeth in some sequester'd gloom ; Such be the end of each relentless foe Who feels no pity for another's woe ; So may they falP — even you, though much too late, * See Whiston's Hypothesis. — FreneaiCs note. ^ This line and the next omitted from later editions. ^ " Homeward flight." — Ed. ifgs. ' " Plan future conquests and new battles fight." — lb, * This and the following five lines omitted from later editions. * "Your murdering host." — Ed. 1793. * This and the following seven lines omitted from later editions. ' " Remorse be theirs." — Ed. iSog. 100 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Shall curse the day you languished to be great ; Haste from the torments of the present life/ Quick, let the halter end thee or the knife ; So may destruction rush with speedy wing, Low as yourself, to drag your cruel king ; '^ His head torn off, his hands, his feet, and all,^ Deep in the dust may Dagon's image fall ; His stump alone escape the vengeful steel, Sav'd but to grace the gibbet or the wheel. ^ This line and the following omitted from later editions. ' " Each tyrant king." — Ed. i8og. ' The later editions end at this point as follows : ' ' Swept from this stage, the race that vex our ball, Deep in the dust may every monarch fall. To wasted nations bid a long adieu. Shrink from an injured world — and fare like you." 1790] TO THE MEMORY OF BRAVE AMERICANS lOI TO THE MEMORY OF THE BRAVE AMERICANS! Under General Greene, in South Carolina, who fell in the action of September 8, 1781 At Eutaw Springs the valiant died ; Their limbs with dust are covered o'er — Weep on, ye springs, your tearful tide ; How many heroes are no more ! ^ If in this wreck of ruin, they Can yet be thought to claim a tear, O smite your gentle breast, and say The friends of freedom slumber here ! Thou, who shalt trace this bloody plain, If goodness rules thy generous breast, Sigh for the wasted rural reign ; Sigh for the shepherds, sunk to rest ! 'First published in the Freematis Journal, November 21, 1781. The patriot army under Greene spent the summer of 1781 in the High Hills of Santee, in South Carolina. " On the 22d of August, Greene broke up his camp very quietly and started out on the last of his sagacious campaigns By vigilant scouting parties, he so completely cut off the enemy's means of information that Stuart remained ignorant of his approach until he was close at hand. The British commander then fell back on Eutaw Springs, about fifty miles from Charleston, where he waited in a strong position. The battle of Eutaw Springs may be resolved into two brief actions between sunrise and noon of the 8th of September, 1781. In the first action the British line was broken and driven from the field. In the second, Stuart succeeded in forming a new line, supported by a brick house and palisaded garden, and from this position Greene was unable to drive him. It has therefore been set down as a British victory. If so, it was a victory followed the next evening by the hasty retreat of the victors, who were hotly pursued by Marion and Lee." — Fiske. ''"In the two engagements the Americans lost in killed, wounded, and missing, five hundred and fifty-four men." — Bancroft. 102 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Stranger, their humble graves adorn ; You too may fall, and ask a tear ; 'Tis not the beauty of the morn That proves the evening shall be clear. — They saw their injured country's woe ; The flaming town, the wasted field ; Then rushed to meet the insulting foe ; They took the spear — but left the shield.^ Led by thy conquering genius, Greene, The Britons they compelled to iiy ; None distant viewed the fatal plain. None grieved, in such a cause to die — But, like the Parthian, famed of old, Who, flying, still their arrows threw. These routed Britons, full as bold. Retreated, and retreating slew.^ Now rest in peace, our patriot band ; Though far from nature's limits thrown, We trust they find a happier land, A brighter sunshine of their own. ^ Scott borrowed this line in the introduction to the third canto of Mar- mion, in the apostrophe to the Duke of Brunswick, which reads thus : ' ' Lamented Chief ! — not thine the power To save in that presumptuous hour, When Prussia hurried to the field And snatched the spear but left the shield." ''After the first engagement the British fled in confusion. Greene, in his eagerness, pursued them too closely, and sheltered by the brick house, they inflicted upon the advancing Americans the greater part of the loss of life incurred during the battle. I79°] ARNOLD'S DEPARTURE 103 ARNOLD'S DEPARTURE! Imitated from Horace ' ' Mala soluta navis exit alite Ferens olentem Mavium,'" &c. With evil omens from the harbour sails The ill-fated barque that worthless Arnold bears, — God of the southern winds, call up the gales. And whistle in rude fury round his ears. With hori/ld waves insult his vessel's sides. And may the east wind on a leeward shore Her cables part while she in tumult rides, And shatter into shivers every oar. And let the north wind to her ruin haste, With such a rage, as when from mountains high He rends the tall oak with his weighty blast, And ruin spreads where'er his forces fly. May not one friendly star that night be seen ; No moon, attendant, dart one glimmering ray. Nor may she ride on oceans more serene Than Greece, triumphant, found that stormy day, 'First published in the July 10, 1782, issue of the Freeman's Journal, under the title " The loth Ode Horace's Book of Epodes Imitated. Written in December, 1781, upon the departure of General Arnold from New-York." The poem was reprinted verbatim in the 1786 edition. ' ' The capitulation at Yorktown having virtually put an end to the war, and Arnold, finding himself neither respected by the British officers nor likely to be further employed in the service, obtained permission from Sir Henry Clinton to go to England. He sailed from New York with his family in December, i^ii."— Sparks' Life of Arnold. 104 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 When angry Pallas spent her rage no more On vanquished Ilium, then in ashes laid, But turned it on the barque that Ajax* bore, Avenging thus her temple and the maid. When tossed upon the vast Atlantic main Your groaning ship the southern gales shall tear, How will your sailors sweat, and you complain And meanly howl to Jove, that will not hear! But if, at last, upon some winding shore A prey to hungry cormorants you lie, A wanton goat to every stormy power, f And a fat lamb, in sacrifice, shall die. PLATO, THE PHILOSOPHER, TO HIS FRIEND THEONi Semel omnibus calcanda via Lethi. — Hor. Why, Theon, wouldst thou longer groan Beneath a weight of years and woe, Thy youth is lost, thy pleasures flown, And time proclaims, " 'Tis time to go." To willows sad and weeping yews With me a while, dear friend, repair,^ Nor to the vault thy steps refuse, Thy constant home shall soon be there. * Ajax the younger, son of Oileus, king of the Locrians. He debauched Cassandra in the temple of Pallas, which was the cause of his misfortune on his return from the siege of Troy. — Freneau's note. f The Tempests were Goddesses amongst the Romans. — li. ^Freeman's Journal, January 2, 1782. In the editions of 1795 and 1809, the title is " To an Old Man." ^ " With me a while, old man, repair." — Ed: lygS- 1790] PLATO TO THEON 105 To summer suns and winter moons Prepare to bid a long adieu, Autumnal seasons shall return And spring shall bloom, but not for you. Why so perplext with cares and toil To rest upon this darksome road, 'Tis but a thin, a thirsty soil, A barren and a bleak abode. Constrain'd to dwell with pain and care. These dregs of life are bought too dear, 'Tis better far to die than bear The torments of another year.' Subjected to perpetual ills A thousand deaths around us grow. The frost the tender blossom kills, And roses wither as they blow. Cold nipping winds thy fruits assail. The infant^ apple seeks the ground. The peaches fall, the cherries fail, The grape receives a fatal wound. The breeze that gently ought to blow Swells to a storm and rends the main. The sun that charm'd the grass to grow Turns hostile and consumes the plain ; The mountains waste, the shores decay. Once purling streams are dead and dry — 'Twas nature's work — 'tis nature's play, And nature says that all must die. ' " The torments of life's closing year." — Ed. lygS- ^"Blasted."— /^. I06 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Yon' flaming lamp, the source of light, In chaos dark shall shroud his beam And leave the world to mother night, A farce, a phantom, or a dream. What now is young must soon be old, Whate'er we love, we soon must leave, 'Tis now too hot, 'tis now too cold — To live is nothing but to grieve. How bright the morn her course begun. No mists bedimm'd the solar sphere — The clouds arise — they shade the sun. For nothing can be constant here. Now hope the longing soul employs. In expectation we are blest; But soon the airy phantom flies. For, lo ! the treasure is possest. Those monarchs proud that havoc spread, (While pensive nature^ dropt a tear) Those monarchs have to darkness fled And ruin bounds their mad career. The grandeur of this earthly round. Where Theon^ would forever be. Is but a name, is but a sound — Mere emptiness and vanity. Give me the stars, give me the skies, Give me the heaven's remotest sphere. Above these gloomy scenes to rise Of desolation and despair. 1 " Reason."— Sd. i^gj. ' "Folly."—/*. 179°] PLATO TO THEON 107 Those native fires that warmed the mind Now languid grown too dimly glow, Joy has to grief the heart resigned And love itself is changed to woe. The joys of wine are all you boast, These for a moment damp thy pain ; The gleam is o'er, the charm is lost — And darkness clouds the soul again. Then seek no more for bliss below, Where real bliss can ne'er be found, Aspire where sweeter blossoms blow And fairer flowers bedeck the ground. Where plants of life the plains invest And green eternal crowns the year, The little god within thy breast^ Is weary of his mansion here. Like Phosphor clad in bright array ^ His height meridian to regain, He can, nor will no longer stay ' To shiver on a frozen plain. Life's journey past, for death* prepare, 'Tis but the freedom of the mind, Jove made us mortal — his we are. To Jove, dear Theon,° be resigned. '■ "That swells the breast." — £d. lygs- ^ " Sent before the day." — 16. ' " The dawn arrives — he must not stay." — li. * " Fate."— /<5. 5 " Be all our cares." — li. I08 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 PROLOGUE 1 To a Theatrical Entertainment in Philadelphia Wars, cruel wars, and hostile Britain's rage Have banished long the pleasures of the stage ; From the gay painted scene compelled to part, (Forgot the melting language of the heart) Constrained to shun the bold theatric show, To act long tragedies of real woe, Heroes, once more attend the comic muse ; Forget our failings, and our faults excuse. r In that fine language is our fable drest Which still unrivalled, reigns o'er all the rest; Of foreign courts the study and the pride. Who to know this abandon all beside ; ^ First published in the Freeman's Journal, January 9, 1782, with the fol- lowing introduction: "On WednesdayLevening, the 2d instant [January 2, 1782] Alex. Quesnay, Esq., exhibited a most elegant entertainment at the play- house, where were present his excellency Gen. Washington, the Minister of France, the President of the State, a number of officers of the army, and a brilliant assemblage of ladies and gentlemen of the city who were invited. After a prologue suitable to the occasion, Eugenie, an elegant French comedy, was first presented (written by the celebrated M. Beaumarchais), and in the opinion of several good judges was extremely well acted by the young gentle- men students in that polite language/) After the comedy was acted the Lying Varlet, a farce ; to this succeeded several curious dances, followed by a brilliant illumination, consisting of thirteen pyramidal pillars, representing the thirteen States, — on the middle column was seen a cupid, supporting a laurel crown over the motto, 'Washington, the pride of his Country and terror of Britain.' On the summit was the word Virginia, on the right Connecticut, with the names Greene and La Favette, on the left the word Pennsylvania, with the names Wayne and Steuben, and so on according to the birthplace and State proper to each general. The spectacle ended with an artificial illumination of the thirteen columns." The prologue, written at the request of Mr. Quesnay, is as above. 179°] PROLOGUE 1 09 Bold, though polite, and ever sure to please ; Correct with grace, and elegant with ease ; Soft from the lips its easy accents roll, Formed to delight and captivate the soul : In this Eugenia tells her easy lay. The brilliant work of courtly Beaumarchais : In this Racine, Voltaire, and Boileau sung. The noblest poets in the noblest tonguej If the soft story in our play expressed Can give a moment's pleasure to your breast, To you. Great Men,^ we must be proud to say That moment's pleasure shall our pains repay : Returned from conquest and from glorious toils. From armies captured and unnumbered spoils ; Ere yet again, with generous France allied. You rush to battle, humbling British pride ; While arts of peace your kind protection share, O let the Muses claim an equal care. You bade us first our future greatness see, Inspired by you, we languished to be free ; Even here where Freedom lately sat distrest. See, a new Athens rising in the west! Fair science blooms, where tyrants reigned before, Red war, reluctant, leaves our ravaged shore — Illustrious heroes, may you live to see These new Republics powerful, great, and free ; Peace, heaven born peace, o'er spacious regions spread. While discord, sinking, veils her ghastly head. 'In the 1786 version, which was reprinted verbatim from the newspaper, this read "Great Sir,'' with the foot-note, "Addressed to His Excellency General Washington," and the rest of the poem was made to refer solely to him. In the later versions this was changed so as to read, "Addressed to the Commander in Chief and several of the officers of the American army then present at the theatre in Southwark." no POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 STANZAS 1 Occasioned by the Ruins of a Country Inn, unroofed and blown down in a storm Where now these mingled ruins lie A temple once to Bacchus rose, Beneath whose roof, aspiring high. Full many a guest forgot his woes : No more this dome, by tempests torn, Affords a social safe retreat ; But ravens here, with eye forlorn, And clustering bats henceforth will meet. The Priestess of this ruined shrine, Unable to survive the stroke. Presents no more the ruddy wine. Her glasses gone, her china broke. The friendly Host, whose social hand Accosted strangers at the door. Has left at length his wonted stand, And greets the weary guest no more. Old creeping Time, that brings decay. Might yet have spared these mouldering walls, Alike beneath whose potent sway A temple or a tavern falls. Is this the place where mirth and joy. Coy nymphs and sprightly lads were found? Indeed ! no more the nymphs are coy, No more the flowing bowls go round. ^Published in tlie Freeman' s Journal, January 23, 1782. 179°] STANZAS 1 1 1 Is this the place where festive song Deceived the wintry hours away? No more the swains the tune prolong, No more the maidens join the lay : Is this the place where Nancy slept In downy beds of blue and green? — Dame Nature here no vigils kept, No cold unfeeling guards were seen. 'Tis gone ! — and Nancy tempts no more. Deep, unrelenting silence reigns ; Of all that pleased, that charmed before. The tottering chimney scarce remains ! Ye tyrant winds, whose ruffian blast Through doors and windows blew too strong, And all the roof to ruin cast, The roof that sheltered us so long. Your wrath appeased, I pray be kind If Mopsus should the dome renew ; That we again may quafE his wine, Again collect our jovial crew. 112 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 THE ROYAL ADVENTURERS Prince William of the Brunswick race, To witness George's sad disgrace The Royal Lad came over Rebels to kill by Right Divine — Deriv'd from that illustrious line The beggars of Hanover. So many chiefs got broken pates In vanquishing the rebel States, So many nobles fell. That George the Third in passion cry'd, " Our royal blood must now be try'd; " 'Tis that must break the spell: " To you (the fat pot-valiant Swine To Digby said) dear friend of mine, " To you I trust my boy. " The rebel tribes shall quake with fears, " Rebellion die when he appears; " My Tories leap with jo3^" 'Published in the Freeman's Journal, January 30, 1782. " Prince Wil- liam Henry, third son of George III, afterwards William IV, entered the navy as midshipman at the age of fourteen in 1779. He sailed in the Prince George of 98 guns to Gibraltar, in the course of which cruise he saw some service under Rodney in conflict with the Spanish fleet ; and it was in this ship, accom- panied by Admiral Digby, that he arrived at New York in September, 1781." — Duyckinck. He was received with great enthusiasm and ceremony. In the Freeman' s Journal oi January 25, 1782, was the following, doubtless from the pen of Freneau : " It is observable that the arrival of Prince William Henry in New York filled the British with ' joy ineffable and universal.' The very chim- ney sweeps, smitten with the poetic flame, composed odes in his praise, some 179°] THE ROYAL ADVENTURER 1 13 So said, so done — the boy was sent, But never reach'd the continent, An Island held him fast — Tet there his friends danc'd rigadoons. The Hessians sung in High Dutch tunes, " Prince William's come at last." " Prince William comes!" — the Briton cry'd — " The glory of our empire wide " Shall now be soon restor'd — " Our monarch is in William seen, " He is the image of our queen, " Let William be ador'd!" The Tories came with long address, With poems groan'd the Royal press, And all in William's praise — The boy astonish'd look'd about To find their vast dominions out. Then answer'd in amaze, " Where all your empire wide can be, " Friends, for my soul I cannot see: " 'Tis but an empty name; " Three wasted islands and a town "In rubbish bury'd — half burnt down, " Is all that we can claim : of which were inserted in The Royal Gazetted The 1809 edition was given a long French motto from Mirabeau, which Freneau translates as follows ; " The favourites of a throne bask in its sunshine, like butterflies in a fine day. Their very slaves at the foot of royalty partake of the delusion. They keep a nation under their feet, and their every folly influences and is followed by the multitude. They care not if their fathers and their nearest relatives are trampled into the dust, provided they can figure away in the circles of a court, etc." 114 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 " I am of royal birth, 'tis true, " But what, alas! can princes do, " No armies to command? " Cornwallis conquer'd and distrest, " Sir Henry Clinton grown a jest, " I curse and leave the land." LORD DUNMORE'S PETITION TO THE LEGISLATURE OF VIRGINIA^ Humbly Sheweth — That a silly old fellow, much noted of yore, And known by the name of John, earl of Dunraore, Has again ventured over to visit your shore. The reason of this he begs leave to explain — In England they said you were conquered and slain, (But the devil take him who believes them again) — So, hearing that most of you rebels were dead, That some had submitted, and others had fled, I mustered my Tories, myself at their head. And over we scudded, our hearts full of glee. As merry as ever poor devils could be. Our ancient dominion, Virginia, to see ; Our shoe-boys, and tars, and the very cook's mate Already conceived he possessed an estate. And the Tories no longer were cursing their fate. ^ First published in the Freeman's Journal, February 13, 1782, and printed almost without change in the various editions. Lord Dunmore was appointed Royal Governor of Virginia in 1770, but, after a stormy career was forced to flee from the colony after the news of Lexington had reached the Southern patriots. 179°] LORD DUNMORE'S PETITION 1 15 Myself, (the don Quixote) and each of the crew, Like Sancho, had islands and empires in view — They were captains, and kings, and the devil knows who : But now, to our sorrow, disgrace, and surprise, \ No longer deceived by the Father of Lies,* We hear with our ears, and we see with our eyes : — I have therefore to make you a modest request, (And I'm sure, in my mind, it will be for the best) Admit me again to your mansions of rest. There are Eden, and Martin, and Franklin, and Tryon,^ All waiting to see you submit to the Lion, And may wait till the devil is king of Mount Sion : — Though a brute and a dunce, like the rest of the clan, ' I can govern as well as most Englishmen can ; / And if I'm a drunkard, I still am a man : ' I missed it some how in comparing my notes. Or six years ago I had joined with your votes ; Not aided the negroes in cutting your throats.^ Although with so many hard names I was branded, I hope you'll believe, (as you will if you're candid) That I only performed what my master commanded. * The printer of the Royal Gazette. — Freneau's note, ed. of lySd. 1 " The last Royal Governors : Robert Eden of Maryland ; Joseph Martin of North Carolina ; William Franklin of New Jersey ; William Tryon of New York. " — Duyckinck. ^ After the second patriot convention assembled in Richmond, Va., in March, 1775, to take measures toward putting the colony in a state of defence, Dunraore, " To intimidate the Virginians, issued proclamations and circulated a rumor that he would incite an insurrection of their slaves. . . , . ' The whole country,' said he, ' can easily be made a solitude ; and by the living God! if any insult is offered to me or to those who have obeyed my orders, I will declare freedom to the slaves and lay the town in ashes.' " — Bancroft. Il6 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Give me lands, whores and dice, and you still may be free ; Let who will be master, we sha'nt disagree ; If king or if Congress — no matter to me; — I hope you will send me an answer straitway, For 'tis plain that at Charleston we cannot long stay — And your humble petitioner ever shall pray. DUNMORE. Charleston, /<2:«. 6, 1782. EPIGRAM' Occasioned by the title of Mr. Rivington's* New York Royal Gazette being scarcely legible Says Satan to Jemmy, " I hold you a bet "That you mean to abandon our Royal Gazette, "Or, between you and me, you would manage things better "Than the Title to print on so sneaking a letter. " Now being connected so long in the art " It would not be prudent at present to part; "And people, perhaps, would be frightened, and fret " If the devil alone carried on the Gazette." Says Jemmy to Satan (by the way of a wipe), "Who gives me the matter should furnish the type; "And why you find fault, I can scarcely divine, "For the types, like the printer, are certainly thine. * Royal printer, to his Britannic majesty while his forces held the city of New York, from 1776 to November 25, 1783.. — Freneau's note. ^Published in the Freeman' s Journal, February 13, 1782. 1 79°] A SPEECH 1 17 "'Tis yours to deceive with the semblance of truth, "Thou friend of my age, and thou guide of my youth! "But, to prosper, pray send me some further supplies, "A sett of new types, and a sett of new lies." A SPEECH^ That should have been spoken by the King of the Island of Britain to his Parliament My lords, I can hardly from weeping refrain, When I think of this year and its cursed campaign ; ^ But still it is folly to whine and to grieve. For things will yet alter, I hope and believe. Of the four southern States we again are bereav'd, They were just in our grasp (or I'm sadly deceiv'd) : There are wizards and witches that dwell in those lands. For the moment we gain them, they slip from our hands. Our prospects at present most gloomy appear; Cornwallis returns with a flea in his ear, Sir Henry is sick of his station we know — And Amherst, though press'd, is unwilling to go. The Hero^ that steer'd for the cape of Good Hope With Monsieur Suffrein was unable to cope — 'In the Freeman's Journal of February 2, 1782, is given his Majesty's speech of November 27, 1781, in full, followed by the speech he should have given. The first tidings of the surrender of Cornwallis reached England November 25. The king's speech to Parliament was confused and aimless. ' Alluding to the last campaign of the war, which culminated in the surren- der of Cornwallis. ^"Commodore George Johnstone, commanding the British East India fleet, was attacked by the French fleet under M. de Suffrein at St. Jago, one of the Cape de Verd Islands, in 1781. Johnstone's flag-ship was the Rodney, 50. " — Duyckinck. Il8 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Many months are elaps'd, yet his task is to do — To conquer the cape, and to conquer Peru : When his squadron at Portsmouth he went to equip He promis'd great things from his fifty-gun ship ; But let him alone — while he knows which is which, He'll not be so ready "/^ die in a ditch." This session, I thought to have told you thus much, "A treaty concluded, and peace with the Dutch" — But as stubborn as ever, they vapour and brag, And sail by my nose with the Prussian flag. The empress refuses to join on our side, As yet with the Indians we're only ally'd : (Though such an alliance is rather improper, For we English are white, but their colour is copper.) The Irish, I fear, have some mischief in view ; They ever have been a most troublesome crew — If a truce or a treaty hereafter be made. They shall pay very dear for their present free trade. Dame Fortune, I think, has our standards forsaken, For Tobago, they say, by Frenchmen is taken ; Minorca's besieg'd — and as for Gibraltar, By Jove, if it's taken I'll take to the halter. It makes me so wroth, I could scold like Xantippe When I think of our losses along Mississippi — And see in the Indies that horrible Hyder, His conquests extending still wider and wider. 'Twixt Washington, Hyder, Don Galvez, De Grasse, By my soul we are brought to a very fine pass — When we've reason to hope new battles are won, A packet arrives — and an army's undone ! — 179°] A SPEECH II9 In the midst of this scene of dismay and distress, What is best to be done, is not easy to guess, For things may go wrong though we plan them aright, And blows they must look for, whose trade is to fight. N In regard to the rebels, it is my decree That dependent on Britain they ever shall be ; Or I've captains and hosts that will fly at my nod And slaughter them all — by the blessing of God. But if they succeed, as they're likely to do. Our neighbours must part with their colonies too : Let them laugh and be merry, and make us their jest. When La Plata revolts, we shall laugh with the rest — 'Tis true that the journey to castle St. Juan Was a project that brought the projectors to ruin ; But still, my dear lords, I would have you reflect, Who nothing do venture can nothing expect. ^ If the Commons agree to afford me new treasures, My sentence once more is for vigorous measures : Accustom'd so long to head winds and bad weather. Let us conquer or go to the devil together. I20 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 RIVINGTON'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT^ [A True Copy from the Records]^ Since life is uncertain, and no one can say, How soon we may go, or how long we shall stay, Methinks he is wisest who soonest prepares, And settles in season his worldly affairs : Some folks are so weak they can scarce avoid crying. And think when they're making their wills they are dying ; 'Tis surely a serious employment — but still. Who e'er died the sooner for making his will ? Let others be sad when their lives they review, But I know whom I've serv'd — and him faithfully too; And though it may seem a fanatical story, He often has show'd me a glimpse of his glory. ^Published in the FreemafCs Journal, February 27, 1782. One week earlier it was advertised for sale as a broadside. I have followed the 1786 version. James Rivington, an Englishman, was a bookseller and printer in New York from 1761 until the close of the Revolution. In 1773 he published the first number of The New York Gazetteer, or the Connecticut, New Jersey, Hudson's River and Quebec Weekly Advertiser. At the opening of the war he became a violent British partisan. His office was destroyed by the Whigs in 1775. Two years later he established Rivington's New York Loyal Gazette, which became the official British newspaper in America. On December 13 of the same year, he changed the name to the Royal Gazette. In the last years of the Revolution, when British success seemed more and more uncertain, Riv- ington began to lean toward the Whig side, but he was never trusted by the patriots, and he passed his last years in loneliness and poverty. ' Omitted in later editions. 179°] RIVINGTON'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT 121 Imprimis, my carcase I give and devise To be made into cakes of a moderate size, To nourish those tories whose spirits may droop, / And serve the king's army with Portable Soup. ' Unless I mistake, in the scriptures we read That "worms on the dead shall deliciously feed," The scripture stands true — and that I am firm in. For what are our tories and soldiers but vermin ? — This soup of soups can't be call'd that of beef. And this may to some be a matter of grief : But I'm certain the Bull would occasion a laugh. That beef Portable Soup should be made of a Calf. To the king, my dear master, I give a full sett (In volumes bound up) of the Royal Gazette, In which he will find the vast record contain'd Of provinces conquer'd and victories gain'd. As to Arnold the traitor and Satan his brother, I beg they will also accept of another ; And this shall be bound in Morocco red leather. Provided they'll read it like brothers together. But if Arnold should die, 'tis another affair, Then Satan surviving shall be the sole heir; He often has told me he thought it quite clever. So to him and his heirs I bequeath it forever. I know there are some (that would fain be thought wise) Who say my Gazette is the record of lies ; In answer to this, I shall only reply — All the choice that I had was to starve or to lie. 122 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 My fiddles, my flutes, French horns and guittars* I leave to our heroes now weary of wars — To the wars of the stage they more boldly advance. The captains shall play and the soldiers shall dance. f To Sir Henry Clinton, his use and behoof, I leave my French brandy of very high proof ; It will give him fresh spirits for battle and slaughter And make him feel bolder by land and by water: Yet I caution the knight, for fear he do wrong, 'Tis avant la viande et apres le poissonX It will strengthen his stomach, prevent it from turning. And digest the affront of his effigy burning. To Baron Knyphausen,^ his heirs and assigns, I bequeath my old hock, and my Burgundy wines. To a true Hessian drunkard no liquors are sweeter. And I know the old man is no foe to the creature. To a general, my namesake, § I give and dispose Of a purse full of clipp'd, light, sweated half joes; I hereby desire him to take back his trash, And return me my Hannay's infallible Wash. || * The articles of bequest in this poem were incessantly advertised in the Royal Gazette, and puffed off with a. dexterity peculiar to the editor of that paper. — Freneau's note in ed. of iSog. f It became fashionable at this period with the British officers to assume the business of the Drama, to the no small mortification of those who had been holding them up as the undoubted conquerors of North America. — lb. X Before flesh and after fish. — See the Royal Gazette. — lb. J General James Robertson. — lb. II Used in the venereal disease. — lb. ' Baron Wilhelm von Knyphausen, in command of the Hessian troops. 1790] RIVINGTON'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT 123 My chessmen and tables, and other such chattels \ I give to Cornwallis renowned in battles : By moving of these (not tracing the map) He'll explain to the king how he got in the trap. To good David Mathews^ (among other slops) j I give my whole cargo of Maredant's drops, If they cannot do all, they may cure him in part, And scatter the poison that cankers his heart: Provided, however, and nevertheless. That what other estate I enjoy and possess At the time of my death (if it be not then sold) Shall remain to the Tories to have and to hold. As I thus have bequeath'd them both carcase and fleece. The least they can do is to wait my decease ; But to give them what substance I have, ere I die. And be eat up with vermin, while living — not I — In Witness whereof (though no ailment I feel) Hereunto I set both my hand and my seal; (As the law says) in presence of Avitnesses twain, 'Squire y^A;? CoghillKnap* and brother Hugh Gaine. James Rivington, {L.S.) New-York, Feb. 20, 1782. *A Notary Public in New-York. — i^;-««^fl«V note. " ' Knapp,' says Dawson, in a note to New York City During the Revolution, was ' a notorious pettifogger, a convict who had fled from England for his own benefit.'"— Duyckinck. • "Tremendous."— .Efl'. i8og. ' David Mathews, Mayor of New York during the British occupancy. 124 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 LINES Occasioned by Mr. Rivington's new Titular Types to his Royal Gazette, of February 27, 1782' Well — now (said the devil) it looks something better ! Your title is struck on a charming new Letter : Last night in the dark, as 1 gave it a squint, • I saw my dear partner had taken the hint. I ever surmised (though 'twas doubted by some) That the old types were shadows of substance to come : But if the new Letter is pregnant with charms. It grieves me to think of those cursed King's Arms! "The Dieu et mon droit (his God and his right) Is so dim, that I hardly know what is meant by't; The paws of the Lion can scarcely be seen, And the Unicorn's guts are most shamefully lean ! The Crown is so worn of your master the Despot, That I hardly know whether 'tis a crown or a pisspot: When I rub up my day-lights, and look very sharp I just can distinguish the Irishman's Harp : Another device appears rather silly, Alas ! it is only the shade of the Lilly ! For the honour of George, and the fame of our nation, Pray give his escutcheons a rectification — Or I know what I know, (and I'm a queer shaver) Of Him and his Arms I'll be the In-grave-r. ^Published in the Freeman's Journal, March 13, 1782, 179°] LINES 12 S LINES On Mr. Rivington's new engraved King's Arms to his Royal Gazette i From the regions of night, with his head in a sack, Ascended a person accoutred in black, And upward directing his circular eye whites ; (Like the Jure-divino political Levites) And leaning his elbow on Rivington's shelf. While the printer was busy, thus mus'd with himself: " My mandates are fully complied with at last, "New arms are engrav'd, and new letters are cast; "I therefore determine and freely accord, "This servant of mine shall receive his reward." Then turning about, to the printer he said, " Who late was my servant shall now be my Aid ; " Since under my banners so bravely you fight, " Kneel down ! — for your merits I dubb you a knight, "From a passive subaltern I bid you to rise "The Inventor as well as the Printer of lies." ^ Freeman's Journal, March 27, 1782. The Gazette, among the Whigs at least, was the synonym for falsity and unfairness. It was generally alluded to as the Lying Gazette. 126 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 A PROPHECY! Written 1782 ' When a certain great king, whose initial is G, Shall force stamps upon paper, and folks to drink tea; When these folks burn his tea, and stampt paper, like stubble, You may guess that this king is then coming to trouble. But when a petition he treads under his feet. And sends over the ocean an army and fleet; ^Published in tlie Freeman's Journal, March 27, 1782, with the following introduction : "Mr. Printer: The people of England at this time seem persuaded or rather deluded into the opinion that the American revolt will be quashed in the year 1786, and under that idea it is likely will prosecute the war with vigour for some time to come. This infatuation chiefly owes its birth to a prophecy of one John Cosins, who lived in the reign of the Second Charles, importing that a certain transatlantic insurrection, and the Kirk of Scotland, will both fall to the ground in the year above mentioned. Cosins's predictions are as follows, taken from the Royal Gazette of the 1 8th ult. . ' When a branch of the thistle gets over the Atlantic, And in a new world the root shall be planted, And when it doth arrive at a degree of perfection It surely will breed a great insurrection. In the year seventy and four the root will be polished. And in eighty and six it will be quite abolished. The lily and the thistle in that year will unite, But the lion and the dun cow will put them to flight. The eagle will eagerly join in the fray, But luna will clip both their wings in a day. O thistle, O thistle, thy wounds will be sore, Kirk and kirk government will be no more, And you'll be abridg'd of all civil power.' To show that America has not been wholly destitute of oracular sages in past times, I send you the following choice words or prophetical hints of an illiterate fisherman, who died about thirty years ago at his habitation, a few miles above the mouth of the Susquehanna. I discovered the paper contain- 1790] A PROPHECY 127 When that army, half-starved, and frantic with rage. Shall be coop'd up with a leader whose name rhymes to cage, When that leader goes home, dejected and sad, You may then be assur'd the king's prospects are bad: But when B and C with their armies are taken. This king will do well if he saves his own bacon. In the year seventeen hundred and eighty and two, A stroke he shall get that will make him look blue ; In the years eighty-three, eighty-four, eighty-five, You hardly shall know that the king is alive ; ■ In the year eighty-six^ the affair will be over, "^ And he shall eat turnips that grow in Hanover. The face of the lion then shall become pale. He shall yield fifteen teeth, and be sheer'd of his tail. O king, my dear king, you shall be very sore, The Stars and the Lilly shall run you on shore, And your lion shall growl, but never bite more. ing them by mere accident in tumbling over the leaves of an old book at an inn near that place. If you think the lines worth inserting in your paper, they are at your service." Reprinted without change in the edition of 1786, the text of which I have followed above. In later editions the prophecy was changed somewhat to conform to historical facts. ^ In the later editions these two lines are made to read ; "And soon, very soon, shall the season arrive When Nebuchadnezzar to pasture shall drive." '"'In the year eighty-three." — Ed. ijgS- 128 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 THE ARGONAUT OR, LOST ADVENTURER! True to his trade — the slave of fortune still — In a sweet isle, where never winter reigns, I found him at the foot of a tall hill, Mending old sails, and chewing sugar canes : Pale ivy round him grew, and mingled vines, Plaintains, bananas ripe, and yellow pines. And flowering night-shade, with its dismal green, Ash-coloured iris, painted by the sun, And fair-haired hyacinth was near him seen. And China pinks by marygolds o'er-run : — " But what (said he) have men that sail the seas, "Ah, what have they to do with things like these! " I did not wish to leave those shades, not I, "Where Amoranda turns her spinning-wheel; "Charmed with the shallow stream, that murmured by, " I felt as blest as any swain could feel, " Who, seeking nothing that the world admires, " On one poor valley fixed his whole desires. " With masts so trim, and sails as white as snow, "The painted barque deceived me from the land, " Pleased, on her sea-beat decks I wished to go, " Mingling my labours with her hardy band; " To reef the sail, to guide the foaming prow "As far as winds can waft, or oceans flow. ' From the edition of 1809. In 1788 this was entitled " The Lost Sailor;" in 1795, "Argonauta." 179°] THE ARGONAUT 1 29 "To combat with the waves who first essayed, " Had these gay groves his lightsome heart beguiled, "His heart, attracted by the charming shade, "Had changed the deep sea for the woody wild ; "And slighted all the gain that Neptune yields "For Damon's cottage, or Palemon's fields. "His barque, the bearer of a feeble crew, "How could he trust when none had been to prove her; ' Courage might sink when lands and shores withdrew, "And feeble hearts a thousand deaths discover: " But Fortitude, tho' woes and death await, " Still views bright skies, and leaves the dark to fate. "From monkey climes where limes and lemons grow, ' ' And the sweet orange swells her fruit so fair, "To wintry worlds, with heavy heart, I go "To face the cold glance of the northern bear, "Where lonely waves, far distant from the sun, "And gulphs, of mighty strength, their circuits run. "But how disheartening is the wanderer's fate! "When conquered by the loud tempestuous main, "On him, no mourners in procession wait, "Nor do the sisters of the harp complain. — "On coral beds and deluged sands they sleep, "Who sink in storms, and mingle with the deep. "'Tis folly all — and who can truly tell "What storms disturb the bosom of that main, "What ravenous fish in those dark climates dwell "That feast on men — then stay, my gentle swain! " Bred in yon' happy shades, be happy there, "And let these quiet groves claim all your care." 130 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 So spoke poor Ralph, and with a smooth sea gale Fled from the magic of the enchanting shore, But whether winds or waters did prevail, I saw the black ship ne'er returning more, Though long I walked the margin of the main. And long have looked — and still must look in vain ! THE POLITICAL BALANCE^ Or, The Fates of Britain and America Compared A Tale Deciding Fates, in Homer's stile, we shew, And bring contending gods once more to view. As Jove the Olympian (who both I and you know. Was brother to Neptune, and husband to Juno) Was lately reviewing his papers of state. He happened to light on the records of Fate : In Alphabet order this volume was written — So he opened at B, for the article Britain — ; She struggles so well, said the god, I will see i What the sisters in Pluto's dominions decree. And first, on the top of a column he read " Of a king with a mighty soft place in his head, "Who should join in his temper the ass and the mule, " The third of his name, and by far the worst fool : 1 This poem appeared in the April 3, 1782, issue of the Freeman' s Journal, filling the entire first page of the paper. I have followed the text of the 1809 edition. 179°] THE POLITICAL BALANCE 131 " His reign shall be famous for multiplication, ' ' The sire and the king of a whelp generation : " But such is the will and the purpose of fate, / "For each child he begets he shall forfeit a State: ' "In the course of events, he shall find to his cost ' "That he cannot regain what he foolishly lost; " Of the nations around he shall be the derision, "And know by experience the rule of Division." So Jupiter read — a god of first rank — And still had read on — but he came to a blank : For the Fates had neglected the rest to reveal — They either forgot it, or chose to conceal : When a leaf is torn out, or a blot on a page That pleases our fancy, we fly in a rage — So, curious to know what the Fates would say next, No wonder if Jove, disappointed, was vext. But still as true genius not frequently fails. He glanced at the Virgin, and thought of the Scales; And said, "To determine the will of the Fates, "One scale shall weigh Britain, the other the States." Then turning to Vulcan, his maker of thunder, Said he, " My dear Vulcan, I pray you look yonder, / "Those creatures are tearing each other to pieces, '•And, instead of abating, the carnage increases. "Now, as you are a blacksmith, and lusty stout ham- eater, " You must make me a globe of a shorter diameter; j "The world in abridgment, and just as it stands / "With all its proportions of waters and lands; / 132 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 "But its various divisions must so be designed, "That I can unhinge it whene'er I've a mind — "How else should I know what the portions will weigh, "Or which of the combatants carry the day ?" Old Vulcan complied, (we've no reason to doubt it) So he put on his apron and strait went about it — Made center, and circles as round as a pancake, And here the Pacific, and there the Atlantic. An axis he hammered, whose ends were the poles, (On which the whole body perpetually rolls) A brazen meridian he added to these, Where four times repeated were^ ninety degrees. I am sure you had laughed to have seen his droll attitude. When he bent round the surface the circles of latitude, The zones and the tropics, meridians, equator. And other fine things that are drawn on salt water. Away to the southward (instructed by Pallas) He placed in the ocean the Terra Australis, New Holland, New Guinea, and so of the rest — America lay by herself in the west : From the regions where winter eternally reigns. To the climes of Peru he extended her plains ; Dark groves, and the zones did her bosom adorn, And the Crosiers,* new burnished, he hung at Cape Horn. * Stars, in the form of a cross, which mark the South Pole in Southern latitudes. — FreneatCs note. ' " On which were engraven twice." — Ed. iy86. 179°] THE POLITICAL BALANCE 133 The weight of two oceans she bore on her sides, With all their convulsions of tempests and tides ; Vast lakes on her surface did fearfully roll, And the ice from her rivers surrounded the pole. Then Europe and Asia he northward extended. Where under the Arctic with Zembla they ended ; (The length of these regions he took with his garters. Including Siberia, the land of the Tartars.) In the African clime (where the cocoa-nut tree grows) He laid down the desarts, and even the negroes, The shores by the waves of four oceans embraced, And elephants strolling about in the waste. In forming East India, he had a wide scope, Beginning his work at the cape of Good Hope; Then eastward of that he continued his plan, 'Till he came to the empire and isles of Japan. Adjacent to Europe he struck up an island, ; (One part of it low, but the other was high land) ; With many a comical creature upon it, And one wore a hat, and another a bonnet. ! Like emmits or ants in a fine summer's day, They ever were marching in battle array. Or skipping about on the face of the brine. Like witches in egg-shells (their ships of the line). These poor little creatures were all in a flame, To the lands of America urging their claim. Still biting, or stinging, or spreading their sails; (For Vulcan had formed them with stings in their tails). 134 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 So poor and so lean, you might count all their ribs,* Yet were so enraptured with crackers and squibs, That Vulcan with laughter almost split asunder, •'Because they imagined their crackers were thunder.j ''^Due westward from these, with a channel between, A servant to slaves, Hibernia was seen, Once crowded with monarchs, and high in renown. But all she retained was the Harp and the Crown ! Insulted forever by nobles and priests,^ And managed by bullies, and governed by beasts. She looked! — to describe her I hardly know how — Such an image of death in the scowl on her brow. For scaffolds and halters were full in her view. And the fiends of perdition their cutlasses drew : And axes and gibbets around her were placed. And the demons of murder her honours defaced. With the blood of the worthy her mantle was stained. And hardly a trace of her beauty remained. Her genius, a female, reclined in the shade. And, sick of oppression,^ so mournfully played, That Jove was uneasy to hear her complain, And ordered his blacksmith to loosen her chain : Then tipt her a wink, saying, " Now is your time, "(To rebel is the sin, to revolt is no crime) "When your fetters are off, if you dare not be free " Be a slave and be damned,' but complain not to me." * Their national debt being now above /. 200,000,000 sterling. — Freneau^s note. ' This and the nine following lines were written for the edition of i8og. ^ " Merely for music"— Ed. 17S6. ' " If you will,"— 7,5. 1790] THE POLITICAL BALANCE 1 35 But finding her timid, he cried in a rage — ' ' Though the doors are flung open, she stays in the cage ! " Subservient to Britain then let her remain, ' ' And her freedom shall be, but the choice ' of her chain, 'j At length, to discourage all stupid pretensions, Jove looked at the globe, and approved its dimensions. And cried in a transport — " Why what have we here! "Friend Vulcan, it is a most beautiful sphere! "Now while I am busy in taking apart "This globe that is formed with such exquisite art, "Go, Hermes, to Libra, (you're one of her gallants) "And ask, in my name, for the loan of her balance." Away posted Hermes, as swift as the gales, And as swiftly returned with the ponderous scales, And hung them aloft to a beam in the air. So equally poised, they had turned with a hair. Now Jove to Columbia his shoulders applied, I But aiming to lift her, his strength she defied — Then, turning about to their godships, he says — "A body so vast is not easy to raise; " But if you assist me, I still have a notion "Our forces, united, can put her in motion, "And swing her aloft, (though alone I might fail) "And place her, in spite of her bulk, in our scale; "If six years together the Congress have strove, "And more than divided the empire with Jove; "With a Jove like myself, who am nine times as great, "You can join, like their soldiers, to heave up this weight." 1 " Length."— ^«r. 17S6. 136 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 So to it they went, with handspikes and levers, And upward she sprung, with her mountains and rivers ! Rocks, cities, and islands, deep waters and shallows, Ships, armies, and forests, high heads and fine fellows : "Stick to it! " cries Jove, "now heave one and all! "At least we are lifting 'one-eighth of the ball! ' "If backward she tumbles — then trouble begins, "And then have a care, my dear boys, of your shins! " When gods are determined what project can fail ? So they gave a hard shove, and she mounted the scale ; Suspended aloft, Jove viewed her with awe — And the gods,* for their pay, had a hearty — huzza! But Neptune bawled out — "Why Jove you're a noddy, " Is Britain sufficient to poise that vast body ? "'Tis nonsense such castles to build in the air — "As >vell might an oyster with Britain compare." "Away to your waters, you blustering bully," Said Jove, "or I'll make you repent of your folly, "Is Jupiter, Sir, to be tutored by you ? — " Get out of my sight, for I know what to do ! " Then searching about with his fingers for Britain, Thought he, "this same island I cannot well hit on; "The devil take him who first called her the Great: " If she was — she is vastly diminished of late ! " Like a man that is searching his thigh for a flea, He peeped and he fumbled, but nothing could see ; At last he exclaimed — "I am surely upon it — " I think I have hold of a Highlander's bonnet." * American soldiers. — Freneau's note. 179°] THE POLITICAL BALANCE 137 But finding his error, he said with a sigh, "This bonnet is only the island of Side! "* So away to his namesake the planet he goes, And borrowed two moons to hang on his nose. Through these, as through glasses, he saw her quite clear. And in raptures cried out — "I have found her — she's here! " If this be not Britain, then call me an ass — " She looks like a gem in an ocean of glass. " But, faith, she's so small I must mind how I shake her; " In a box I'll inclose her, for fear I should break her: "Though a god, I might suffer for being aggressor, "Since scorpions, and vipers, and hornets possess her; "The white cliffs of Albion I think I descry — "And the hills of Plinlimmon appear rather nigh — "But, Vulcan, inform me what creatures are these, i "That smell so of onions, and garlick, and cheese ?" Old Vulcan replied — "Odds splutter a nails! "Why, these are the Welch, and the country is Wales! "When Taffy is vext, no devil is ruder— "Take care how you trouble the offspring of Tudor! " On the crags of the mountains hur living hur seeks, " Hur country is planted with garlick and leeks; " So great is hur choler, beware how you teaze kur, "For these are the Britons — unconquered by Caesar."^ *An Island on the north-west of Scotland. — Freneau's note. ' In the 1786 edition there was inserted at this point the following stanza omitted in the later versions : ' ' Jove peep'd thro' his moons, and examin'd their features, And said, ' By my truth, they are wonderful creatures, ' The beards are so long that encircle their throats, ' That (unless they are Welchmen) I swear they are goats.' " 138 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 I — " But now, my dear Juno, pray give me my mittens, "(These insects I am going to handle are Britons) "I'll draw up their isle with a finger and thumb, "As the doctor extracts an old tooth from the gum.^ Then he raised her aloft — but to shorten our tale, She looked like a clod in the opposite scale — Britannia so small, and Columbia so large — A ship of first rate, and a ferryman's barge ! Cried Pallas to Vulcan, "Why, Jove's in a dream — "Observe how he watches the turn of the beam! "Was ever a mountain outweighed by a grain ? "Or what is a drop when compared to the main?" But Momus alledged — " In my humble opinion, "You should add to Great-Britain her foreign dominion, "When this is appended, perhaps she will rise, "And equal her rival in weight and in size." "Alas! (said the monarch), your project is vain, " But little is left of her foreign domain ; "And, scattered about in the liquid expanse, "That little is left to the mercy of France; " However, we'll lift them, and give her fair play" — And soon in the scale with their mistress they lay; But the gods were confounded and struck with surprise. And Vulcan could hardly believe his own eyes ! I For (such was the purpose and guidance of fate) ' Her foreign dominions diminished her weight — By which it appeared, to Britain's disaster. Her foreign possessions were changing their master. 179°] THE POLITICAL BALANCE 139 Then, as he replaced them, said Jove with a smile — ' "Columbia shall never be ruled by an isle — " But vapours and darkness around her may rise, "And tempests conceal her awhile from our eyes; "So locusts in Egypt their squadrons display, "And rising, disfigure the face of the day; " So the moon, at her full, has a frequent eclipse, "And the sun in the ocean diurnally dips. "Then cease your endeavours, ye vermin of Britain — (And here, in derision, their island he spit on) "'Tis madness to seek what you never can find, "Or to think of uniting what nature disjoined; " But still you may flutter awhile with your wings, "And spit out your venom and brandish your stings: "Your hearts are as black, and as bitter as gall, " A curse to mankind — and a blot on the Ball."* * It is hoped that such a sentiment may not be deemed wholly illiberal — Every candid person will certainly draw a line between a brave and magnani- mous people, and a most vicious and vitiating government. Perhaps the follow- ing extract from a pamphlet lately published in London and republished at Baltimore (June, 1809) by Mr. Bernard Dornin, will place the preceding sen- timent in a fair point of view : "A better spirit than exists in the English people, never existed in any people in the world ; it has been misdirected, and squandered upon party pur- poses in the most degrading and scandalous manner ; they have been led to believe that they were benefiting the commerce of England by destroying the commerce of America, that they were defending their sovereign by perpetuat- ing the bigoted oppression of their fellow subjects ; their rulers and their guides have told them that they would equal the vigour of France by equalling her atrocity, and they have gone on, wasting that opulence, patience and courage, which if husbanded by prudent, and moderate counsels, might have proved the salvation of mankind. The same policy of turning the good quali- ties of Englishmen to their own destruction, which made Mr. Pitt omnipotent, continues his power to those who resemble him only in his vices ; advantage is I40 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 DIALOGUE AT HYDE-PARK CORNERS (London) Burgoyne Let those who will, be proud and sneer And call you an unwelcome peer, But I am glad to see you here : The prince that fills the British throne. Unless successful, honours none ; Poor Jack Burgoyne! — you're not alone. Cornwallis Thy ships, De Grasse, have caused my grief- To rebel shores and their relief There never came a luckier chief: In fame's black page it shall be read. By Gallic arms my soldiers bled — The rebels thine in triumph led. taken of the loyalty of Englishmen, to make them meanly submissive ; their piety is turned into persecution ; their courage into useless and obstinate conten- tion ; they are plundered because they are ready to pay, and soothed into assinine stupidity because they are full of virtuous patience. If England must perish at last, so let it be : that event is in the hands of God ; we must dry up our tears, and submit. But that England should perish swindling and steal- ing ; that it should perish waging war against lazar-houses and hospitals ; that it should perish persecuting with monastic bigotry ; that it should calmly give itself up to be ruined by the flashy arrogance of one man, and the narrow fanaticism of another ; these events are within the power of human beings, but I did not think that the magnanimity of Englishmen would ever stoop to such degradations." — Freneau's note. ' Text from the edition of 1809. The poem first appeared in the Free- man's Journal, April 24, 1782. 1790] DIALOGUE AT HYDE-PARK CORNER 141 Burgoyne Our fortunes different forms assume, I called and called for elbow-room,^ Till Gates discharged me to my doom ; But you, that conquered far and wide, In little York thought fit to hide. The subject ocean at your side. Cornwallis And yet no force had gained that post — Not Washington, his country's boast. Nor Rochambeau, with all his host, Nor all the Gallic fleet's parade — Had Clinton hurried to my aid, And Sammy Graves been not afraid. Burgoyne For head knocked off, or broken bones, Or mangled corpse, no price atones ; Nor all that prattling rumour says, Nor all the piles that art can raise, The poet's or the parson's praise. Cornwallis Though I am brave, as well as you. Yet still I think your notion true ; Dear brother Jack, our toils are o'er — With foreign conquests plagued no more, We'll stay and guard our native shore. ^ See Vol. I, page 166, note. ^ "Had I been blest with elbow-room, I might have found a different doom." — Ed. 1786. 142 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 ON THE LATE ROYAL SLOOP OF WAR GENERAL MONK^ ( Formerly the Washington ) Mounting Six Quarter Deck Wooden Guns When the Washington ship by the English was beat, They sent her to England to shew their great feat, And Sandwich straitway, as a proof of his spunk. Dashed out her old name, and called her the Monk. "This Monk hated Rebels (said Sandy) — 'od rot 'era — "So heave her down quickly, and copper her bottom; "With the sloops of our navy we'll have her enrolled, "And manned with picked sailors to make her feel bold; 'First published in the Freeman's Journal, April 24, 1782. On April 10, the Journal contained the following account of the battle : " Yesterday the Hyder Ally, a vessel fitted out for the protection of this river and its trade, returned to Chester after a severe conflict with a vessel of superior force, which with great gallantry and good conduct on the part of Capt. Barney and his crew, has been captured and brought into port. The particulars of the action, as far as we have been able to collect them, are that a fleet of merchantmen, having proceeded down the bay, were met by an enemy's frigate of forty guns, with the General Mo7ik, Sloop of War, and Fair American, privateer ; the General Monk having eighteen nine pounders and one hundred and fifty men. The fleet endeavored to return, but were pursued by the frigate, sloop, and privateer. The Fair American being engaged with one of the fleet, and the frigate being at a considerable distance, gave the Hyder Ally an opportunity to attack the General Monk singly, which Capt. Barney embraced, and after a very close and brave attack of about thirty minutes, the General Monk surrendered to her inferior adversary. The General Monk had fifty-three men killed and wounded, among whom are most of the officers ; on board the Hyder Ally there were fifteen killed and wounded. A brig, one of the fleet, was taken, and the General Greene left engaged with the Fair American. The conduct of Capt. Barney has given the greatest satis- faction and shows him truly worthy of the trust committed to him." 179°] TRUTH ANTICIPATED 143 "To shew that our king is both valiant and good, "Some guns shall be iron, and others be wood, "And, in truth, (though I wish not the secret to spread) "All her guns should be wooden — to suit with his head." TRUTH ANTICIPATED 1* A Rivingtonian Dialogue What brilliant events have of late come to pass, No less than the capture of Monsieur de Grasse ! His majesty's printer has told it for true, As we had it from him, so we give it to you. ^The first trace that I can find of this poem is in the 1786 edition, where it is signed, " Written April, 1782." * "Occasioned by the naval victory gained by Admiral Rodney and Capt. Comwallis, of the British fleet in the West Indies, over the squadron of Count De Grasse." — Freneau's note to iSog edition. On June 5, 1782, Freneau printed the following in t\ie Journal : "Formidable, between Guadaloupe and Monpenat, April 14, 1782. ' ' Sir : I am this moment favoured with your excellency's letter, and have the happiness to acquaint you that after having had a partial engagement with the enemy on the gth, wherein 16 of my rear were prevented by calms from join- ing in the action, on the 12th I had the good fortune to bring them to a general action, which lasted from seven o'clock in the morning until half-past six in the afternoon, without a moment's intermission. Count de Grasse, with the Ville de Paris and four other ships of the line and one sunk, graced the victory. The remainder of their fleet was so miserably shattered and their loss of men so very great from their having their whole army consisting of 5,500 men on board the ships of war, that I am convinced it will be almost impossi- ble to put them in a condition for service for some considerable time. I am hastening with my whole fleet, etc. G. B. Rodney." Freneau's early doubts as to this victory, which was loudly proclaimed in the Royal Gazette, is evidenced not only by the poem, but by the following comment on Rodney's letter : ' ' The unskilful forger of Sir George Rodney's letter, which is pretended 144 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Many folks of discernment the story believed, And the devil himself it at first had deceived, Had it not been that Satan imported the stuff, And signed it George Rodney, by way of high proof.* Said Satan to Jemmy, "Let's give them the whappers — " Some news I have got that will bring in the coppers, "And truth it shall be, though I pass it for lies, "And making a page of your newspaper size. " A wide field is open to favour my plan, "And the rebels may prove that I lie — if they can; "Since they jested and laughed at our lying before, " Let it pass for a lie, to torment them the more. " My wings are yet wet with the West-India dew, "And Rodney I left, to come hither to you, " I left him bedeviled with brimstone and smoke, " The French in distress, and their armament broke. " For news so delightful, with heart and with voice " The Tories of every degree may rejoice; " With charcoal and sulphur shall utter their joy "'Till they all get as black as they paint the old Boy." Thus, pleased with the motion, each cutting a caper, Down they sat at the table, with pen, ink, and paper; In less than five minutes the matter was stated, And Jemmy turned scribe, while Satan dictated. to have been wafted from Jamaica to Savannah and thence to Charleston, exhibits Sir George not as a British admiral, but as a saucy upstart. ... To comment on this absurd forgery virould be nugatory." ' " For that was enough." — Ed. ij86. I79°] TRUTH ANTICIPATED 145 " Begin (said the devil) in the form of a Letter, "(If you call it true copy, 'tis so much the better) " Make Rodney assert he met the French fleet,- i "Engaged it, and gave 'em a total defeat. " But the better to vamp up a show of reality, " The tale must be told with circumstantiality, "What vessels were conquered by Britain's bold sons, " Their quotas of men, and their number of guns. " There's the Villa de Paris — one hundred and ten — "Write down that George Rodney has killed half her men — "That her hull and her rigging are shattered and shaken, " Her flag humbled down, and her admiral taken. "Z^ Cesar, 'tis true, is a seventy-four, " But the Villa de Paris was thirty-six more ; " With a grey goose's quill if that ship we did seize on, "Z^ Cesar must fall, or I'll know what's the reason. " The next that I fix on to take is the Hector, "(Her name may be Trojan, but shall not protect her) " Don't faulter, dear comrade, and look like a goose, "If we've taken these three, we can take Glorieuse. "The last mentioned ship runs their loss up to four, '' Le Diadem sunk, shall make it one more; " And now, for the sake of round numbers, dear cousin, "Write Ardent, and then we have just half-a-dozen! " Jemmy smiled at the notion, and whispered "O f y ! " Indeed 'tis a shame to persuade one to lie" — But Satan replied — "Consider, my son, ' ' I am a prince of the winds, and have seen what is done : / 146 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 " With a conquest like this, how bright we shall shine! " That Rodney has taken six ships of the line, "Will be in your paper a brilliant affair; " How the Tories will laugh, and the rebels will swear. I " But farther, dear Jemmy, make Rodney to say, I" If the sun two hours longer had held out the day, "The rest were so beaten, so baisted, so tore, " He had taken them all, and he knew not but more." So the partners broke up, as good friends as they met. And soon it was all in the Royal Gazette ; The Tories rejoiced at the very good news. And said, There's no fear we shall die in our shoes. Now let us give credit to Jemmy, forsooth. Since once in a way he has hit on the truth : If again he returns to his practice of lies, He hardly reflects where he'll go when he dies. But still, when he dies, let it never be said That he rests in his grave with no verse at his head ; But furnish, ye poets, some short epitaph. And something like this, that readers may laugh : Here lies a King's Printer, we needn't say who : There is reason to think that he tells what is true : But if he lies here, 'tis not over-strange. His present position is but a small change. So, reader, pass on — 'tis a folly to sigh. For all his life long he did little but lie^ I79°] BARNEY'S INVITATION 147 BARNEY'S INVITATION! Come all ye lads who know no fear, To wealth and honor with me steer In the Hyder AH privateer, Commanded by brave Barney. She's new and true, and tight and sound. Well rigged aloft, and all well found — Come away and be with laurel crowned, Away — and leave your lasses. Accept our terms without delay. And make your fortunes while you may, Such offers are not every day In the power of the jolly sailor. Success and fame attend the brave. But death the coward and the slave, Who fears to plow the Atlantic wave, To seek the bold invaders. Come, then, and take a cruising bout. Our ship sails well, there is no doubt. She has been tried both in and out. And answers expectation. ^ "A number of gentlemen having met in the evening [about April i, 1 782] at Crawford and Donaldson's insurance office in High street and, con- versing on the subject of the captures making in the bay by the General Monk, just then arrived, it was resolved to raise a loan of money by which to fit out a vessel which might succeed to capture her. The money was obtained of the Bank of North America upon the responsibility of sundry individuals ; the Hyder Ali was purchased of John W. Stanley and the command given to Capt. Barney ; a crew of volunteers, chiefly from the regular service, was en- gaged, and a commission of a letter of marque procured. In a week the vessel was ready and sailed." — Watson's Annals of Philadelphia. The poem was 148 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Let no proud foes whom Europe bore, Distress our trade, insult our shore — Teach them to know their reign is o'er, Bold Philadelphia sailors ! We'll teach them how to sail so near, Or to venture on the Delaware, When we in warlike trim appear And cruise without Henlopen. Who cannot wounds and battle dare Shall never clasp the blooming fair; The brave alone their charms should share. The brave are their protectors. With hand and heart united all, Prepared to conquer or to fall. Attend, my lads, to honour's call, Embark in our Hyder AH. From an Eastern prince ^ she takes her name, Who, smit with Freedom's sacred flame. Usurping Britons brought to shame. His country's wrongs avenging; See, on her stern the waving stars — Inured to blood, inured to wars, Come, enter quick, my jolly tars, To scourge these warlike Britons. included in the editions of 1786 and 1809. Why Freneau omitted this spirited lyric and also ' Barney's Victory over the Monk ' from his edition of 1795 has never been explained. ^ Hyder Ali, a prince of Mysore, India, who defeated in 1767 the British troops and forced them to sue for peace. In 1780, assisted by the French, he invaded Carnatic, but was defeated the following year by Sir Eyre Coote. From his hostility to the English and his alliance with the French he was hailed with enthusiasm by the American patriots. I79°] SONG 149 Here's grog enough — then drink a bout, I know your hearts are firm and stout ; American blood will never give out, And often we have proved it. Though stormy oceans round us roll. We'll keep a firm undaunted soul. Befriended by the cheering bowl, Sworn foes to melancholy : While timorous landsmen lurk on shore, 'Tis ours to go where cannons roar — On a coasting cruise we'll go once more, Despisers of all danger; And Fortune still, who crowns the brave. Shall guard us over the gloomy wave A fearful heart betrays a knave — Success to the Hyder AH. SONG^ On Captain Barney's Victory over the Ship General Monk O'er the waste of waters cruising. Long the General Monk had reigned ; All subduing, all reducing. None her lawless rage restrained : ^ First published in the Freeman's Journal yiay 8, 1782, with the follow- ing introduction : "Mr. Bailey •. " Reading Capt. Barney's late gallant exploit in your and other newspapers, I could not restrain myself from scribbling the few following stanzas relative to that affair and descriptive not of what was really said or done in the most ISO POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Many a brave and hearty fellow Yielding to this warlike foe, When her guns began to bellow Struck his humbled colours low. But^grown bold with long successes, Leaving the wide watery way, She, a stranger to distresses. Came to cruise within Cape May : " Now we soon (said captain Rogers) "Shall their men of commerce meet; "In our hold we'll have them lodgers, "We shall capture half their fleet. "Lo! I see their van appearing — " Back our topsails to the mast — "They toward us full are steering "With a gentle western blast: " I've a list of all their cargoes, "All their guns, and all their men : " I am sure these modern Argos " Cant escape us one in ten : "Yonder comes the Charming Sally ■"Sailing with the General Greene — "First we'll fight the Hyder AH, " Taking her is taking them : minute particulars but of what might be supposed to have passed in similar circumstances. Yours, RUSTICUS. "Dover, April 26, 1782. "To the Tune of the Tempest or Hosier's Ghost.'' The omission of this stirring lyric from the edition of 1795 I can ascribe only to accident. 179°] SONG 151 "She intends to give us battle, "Bearing down with all her sail — "Now, boys, let our cannon rattle! "To take her we cannot fail. " Our eighteen guns, each a nine pounder, " Soon shall terrify this foe ; "We shall maul her, we shall wound her, "Bringing rebel colours low." — While he thus anticipated Conquests that he could not gain. He in the Cape May channel waited For the ship that caused his pain. Captain Barney then preparing. Thus addressed his gallant crew — "Now, brave lads, be bold and daring, " Let your hearts be firm and true ; "This is a proud English cruiser, " Roving up and down the main, "We must fight her — must reduce her, "Though our decks be strewed with slain. "Let who will be the survivor, "We must conquer or must die, " We must take her up the river, "Whate'er comes of you or I: "Though she shews most formidable "With her eighteen pointed nines, "And her quarters clad in sable, " Let us baulk her proud designs. "With four nine pounders, and twelve sixes "We will face that daring band; "Let no dangers damp your courage, "Nothing can the brave withstand. 1 52 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 "Fighting for your country's honour, "Now to gallant deeds aspire ; "Helmsman, bear us down upon her, " Gunner, give the word to fire ! " Then yard arm and yard arm meeting. Strait began the dismal fray. Cannon mouths, each other greeting. Belched their smoky flames away : Soon the langrage, grape and chain shot. That from Barnes's cannons flew, Swept the Monk, and cleared each round top. Killed and wounded half her crew. Captain Rogers strove to rally But they from their quarters fled. While the roaring Hyder Ali Covered o'er his decks with dead. When from their tops their dead men tumbled. And the streams of blood did flow, Then their proudest hopes Avere humbled '' By their brave inferior foe. All aghast, and all confounded. They beheld their champions fall. And their captain, sorely wounded. Bade them quick for quarters call. Then the Monk's proud flag descended. And her cannon ceased to roar ; By her crew no more defended. She confessed the contest o'er. Come, brave boys, and fill your glasses, You have humbled one proud foe. No brave action this surpasses, Fame shall tell the nations so — 179°] ON SIR HENRY CLINTON'S RECALL I 53 Thus be Britain's woes completed, Thus abridged her cruel reign, 'Till she ever, thus defeated, Yields the sceptre of the main. ON SIR HENRY CLINTON'S RECALL" The dog that is beat has a right to complain — Sir Harry returns a disconsolate man. To the face of his master, the Lgrd's^ oil-anointed. To the country provided for thieves disappointed. Our freedom, he thought, to a tyrant must fall, He concluded the weakest must go to the wall; The more he was flattered, the bolder he grew — He quitted the old world to conquer the new. But in spite of the deeds he has done in his garrison, (And they have been curious beyond all comparison) He now must go home, at the call of his king, To answer the charges that Arnold may bring. But what are the acts that this chief has atchieved? — If good, it is hard he should now be aggrieved. And the more, as he fought for his national glory. Nor valued, a farthing, the right of the story. This famous great man, and two birds* of his feather, In the Cerberus frigate came over together; But of all the bold chiefs that re-measure the trip, Not two have been known to return in one ship.^ * Generals Howe and Burgoyne. — Freneau's note. ^ First published in the Freeman's Journal, May 22, 1782. Sir Henry Clinton was superseded as Commander-in-Chief of the British armies in America by Sir Guy Carleton, who took command May 5, 1782. 2 "Devil's. "—£ Balderi patris scamna Parata scio in aula : Bibemus Cerevisiam Rx concavis crateribus craniorum. Non gemit vir fortis contra mortem Magnifici in Odini domibus, &c. Translation Brave deeds atchieved, at death's approach I smile, In Balder's hall I see the table spread, The enlivening ale shall now reward my toil, QuafEed from their sculls, that by ray faulchion bled. Heroes no more at death's approach shall groan : In lofty Odin's dome all sighs forbear — Conscious of bloody deeds, my fearless soul Mounts to great Odin's hall, and revels there. ' First printed June 19, 1782, in number 16 of the series of papers contrib- uted to the first volume of the Freeman's Journal -avAa the title The Pilgrim, and reprinted to some extent in the edition of 1788 under the title The Philos- opher of the Forest. The essay, which might be entitled " On the Irrationality of War," contained the following passage : ' ' They [the Scandinavians] imagined the chief pleasure of this immortality would be to drink beer out of bowls made of the skulls of the enemies they had slain in battle, according to the number of which every one was to be esteemed and honored in the mansions of another world. Their war songs were particu- larly horrible to the imagination, and full of those savage notions of valor and romantic heroism that is to this day observable in the North American Indians. ... Is it possible that a being illuminated by the rays of that spiritual sun could in his senses write the following lines : they were composed (with a great deal more) by one of the warrior chiefs of the Scandinavians more than 800 years since, a few hours before he expired ? " l6o POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 THE PROJECTORS' Before the brazen age began, And things were yet on Saturn's plan, None knew what sovereign bliss there lay- In ruling, were it but a day. Each with spontaneous food content, His life in Nature's affluence spent; The sun -was mild, serene and clear, And walked in Libra all the year; No tempests did the heaven deform, 'Twas not too cold nor yet too warm ; People were then at small expence. They dug no ditch, and made no fence. No patentees by sleight or chance For Indian lands got double grants, Not for their wants, but just to say, " If you come here, expect to pay." Base grasping souls, your pride repress ; Beyond your wants must you possess? If ten poor acres will supply A rustic and his family, Why, Jobbers, would you have ten score. Ten thousand and ten thousand more? It is a truth well understood, "All would be tyrants if they could." The love of sway has been confessed The ruling passion of the breast: Those who aspire to govern states. If baulked by disapproving fates, 'First published in the Freeman^ s Journal, July 3, 1782, under the signa- ture " Cassibilan." I have followed the 1809 text. 179°] THE PROJECTORS l6l Resolve their purpose to fulfil, And scheme for tenants at their will. Ten thousand acres, fit for toil, In Indiana's fertile soil — Ten thousand acres ! come, agree — Timon is named ^ the patentee, And, as the longing stomach craves, He'll honour fools and flatter knaves. If Rome, of old, to greatness rose Triumphant over all her foes. None need believe that people then Were more in strength than modern men ; If o'er the world their eagles waved, 'Twas property their freedom saved ; ^ From lands, not shared amongst the few. An independent spirit grew : Each on a small and scanty spot. With much ado his living got, Inured to labour from his birth, ^ Each Roman soldier tilled the earth, Great as a monarch on the throne By having something of his own. ^ " Let me become." — Ed. lySd. ^ " 'Twas policy the world enslav'd." — lb. 'This line and the following not in the 1786 version. l62 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 ON GENERAL ROBERTSON'S PROCLA- MATIONi Old Judas the traitor (nor need we much wonder) Falling down from the gallows, his paunch split asunder, Affording, 'tis likely, a horrible scent Rather worse than the sulphur of hell, where he went. So now this bra' chieftain, who long has suspended And kept out of view what his master intended, Bursts out all at once, and an inside discloses. Disgusting the Tories, who stop up their noses. The short of the matter is this, as I take it — New-York of true Britons is plainly left naked. And their conduct amounts to an honest confession. That they cannot depend on the run-a-way Hessian. ^ First published in the FreematCs Journal, June 10, 1782, prefaced by the following reprint of the proclamation taken from Rivington's Royal Gazette of the 26th of June : ' ' By His Excellency Lieutenant-General James Robertson, Governor of New York, &'c. , S^c. The Commander-in-chief having shown the great con- fidence he reposes in the Citizens of New York by trusting his Majesty's interest there, to their Zeal, Loyalty, and Gallantry, I persuade myself that every citizen will with alacrity claim his title to a share of the Militia duty ; that none may be deprived of this, and that those whose zeal would lead them to appear whenever called for, may not be called for too often, I think proper to declare ; ' ' That all persons are to perform the Militia duty, excepting the Ministers of God's Word, his Majesty's Counsellors and principal servants whose avoca- tions to religious and civil, necessarily prevents their attendance on Military duties. "All persons who from age or infirmity are unable to act, may do duty by substitutes, providing those they offer are judged sufficient by the Colonel of the regiment, or commanding officer of the corps to which they belong. ' ' If any of the Gentlemen of the learned professions find themselves so usefully employed as to be induced to avoid the honour of appearing in person, 1790] ON ROBERTSON'S PROCLAMATION 163 In such a dilemma pray what should they do? Hearts loyal, to whom should they look but to You? — You know pretty well how to handle the spade, To dig their canals and to make a parade ; The city is left to your valiant defence, And of course it will be but of little expence. Since there is an old fellow that looks somewhat sooty Who, gratis, will help you in doing your duty — " In doing our duty ! — 'tis duty indeed " (Says a Tory) if this be the way that we speed ; "We never loved fighting, the matter is clear — " If we had, I am sure we had never come here. " George we owned for our king, as his true loyal sons, " But why will he force us to manage his guns? — " Who 'list in the army or cruise on the wave, " Let them do as they will — 'tis their trade to be brave. •'Guns, mortars and bullets,^ we easily face, " But when they're in motion — it alters the case ; "To skirmish with Huddies* is all our desire "For though we can murder, we cannot stand fire. they are supposed to be judges of the importance of their own time, and may act by proper substitutes. " As no person deserves protection in a place of which he refuses to con- tribute to the defence ; every person who refuses to appear when summoned to his Militia duty is to be confined in the Main-Guard by the Colonel or com- manding Officer of the corps to which he belongs, where he is to be kept till further orders. James Robertson. New York, June 22, 1782." * Capt. Huddy, an American Captain, who, after capitulating in a block- house, was hanged by refugees, called new levies. — Freneau's^note. ' "Gun bullets in boxes." — Ed. iy86. 164 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 To the standards of Britain we fled for protection, And there we are gathered, a goodly collection ; And most of us think it is rather too hard For refusing to arm to be put under guard; Who knows under guard what ills we may feel! — It is an expression that means a great deal — 'Mongst the rebels they fine 'em who will not turn out. But here we are left in a sorrowful doubt; — These Britons were always so sharp and so shifty — The rebels excuse you from serving when fifty, But here we are counted such wonderful men We are kept in the ranks, till we are four score and ten. Kicked, cuffed and ill treated from morning till night We have room to conjecture that all is not right. For Freedom we fled from our country's defence And freedom we'll get — when death sends us hence. ' If matters go thus, it is easy to see That as idiots we've been, so slaves we shall be ; And what will become of that peaceable train Whose tenets enjoin them from war to abstain? Our city commandant must be an odd shaver, Not a single exception to make in their favour! — Come let us turn round and rebelliously sing, Huzza for the Congress! — the de'il take the king." ^ In place of this stanza, the edition of 1786 had the following : ' ' Provided the clergy but preach non-resistance ' ' And passive obedience — they wave their assistance ; " But we — tho' we're sick and have death in our faces, " Must purchase a proxy to serve in our places." I79°] A PICTURE OF THE TIMES 165 A PICTURE OF THE TIMES^ With Occasional Reflections Still round the world triumphant Discord flies, Still angry kings to bloody contest rise ; Hosts bright with steel, in dreadful order plac'd. And ships contending on the watery waste ; Distracting demons every breast engage. Unwearied nations glow with mutual rage ; Still to the charge the routed Briton turns, The war still rages and the battle burns ; See, man with man in deadly combat join. See, the black navy form the flaming line ; Death smiles alike at battles lost or won — Art does for him what Nature would have done. Can scenes like these delight the human breast? — Who sees with joy humanity distrest ; Such tragic scenes fierce passion might prolong. But slighted Reason says, they must be wrong. Curs'd be the day, how bright soe'er it shin'd. That first made kings the masters of mankind ; And curs'd the wretch who first with regal pride Their equal rights to equal men deny'd. But curs'd o'er all, who first to slav'ry broke Submissive bow'd and own'd a monarch's yoke, Their servile souls his arrogance ador'd And basely own'd a brother for a lord ; Hence wrath and blood, and feuds and wars began. And man turned monster to his fellow man. ^Contributed to the July 19, 1782, issue of the Freeman's Journal over the signature " Philomeides." The title in the 1786 edition was "Philosoph- ical Reflections." I have used the original text. l66 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Not SO that age of innocence and ease When men, yet social, knew no ills like these ; Then dormant yet, ambition (half unknown) No rival murder'd to possess a throne ; No seas to guard, no empires to defend — Of some small tribe the father and the friend. The hoary sage beneath his sylvan shade Impos'd no laws but those which reason made ; On peace not war, on good not ill intent. He judg'd his brethren by their own consent; Untaught to spurn those brethren to the dust ; In virtue firm, and obstinately just. For him no navies rov'd from shore to shore. No slaves were doom'd to dig the glitt'ring ore ; Remote from all the vain parade of state, No slaves in diamonds saunter'd at his gate. Nor did his breast the guilty passions tear. He knew no murder and he felt no fear. Was this the patriarch sage? — Then turn thine eyes And view the contrast that our age supplies; Touch'd from the life, I trace no ages fled, I draw no curtain that conceals the dead ; To distant Britain let thy view be cast, And say the present far exceeds the past ; Of all the plagues that e'er the world have curs'd, Name George the tyrant, and you name the worst ! What demon, hostile to the human kind. Planted these fierce disorders in the mind? All urg'd alike, one phantom we pursue. But what has war with happiness to do? In death's black shroud this gem can ne'er be found ; Who deals for that the life-destroying wound. Or pines with grief to see a brother live, That life dissolving which we cannot give? 1790] PRINCE WILLIAM HENRY'S SOLILOQUY 167 'Tis thine, Ambition! — Thee these horrors suit: Lost to the human, she assumes the brute ; She proudly vain or insolently bold, Her heart revenge, her eye intent on gold, Sway'd by the madness of the present hour Mistakes for happiness extent of power; That shining bait which dropt in folly's way Tempts the weak mind, and leads the heart astray ! Thou happiness! still sought but never found, I ^ We, in a circle, chase thy shadow round; \'<'r>a A Meant all mankind in different forms to bless. Which yet possessing, we no more possess: — Thus far remov'd and painted on the eye Smooth verdant fields seem blended with the sky, O; But where they both in fancied contact join "^ In vain we trace the visionary line ; Still as we chase, the empty circle flies. Emerge new mountains or new oceans rise. ' PRINCE WILLIAM HENRY'S SOLILOQUY ^ Occasioned by Public Rejoicings in Philadelphia for the birth of the Dauphin of France, son to Louis XVI J People are mad thus to adore the Dauphin — Heaven grant the brat may soon be in his coffin — ^ The honours here to this young Frenchman shown. Of right should be Prince George's, or my own ; And all those wreathes that bloom on Louis now, Should hang, unfading, on my father's brow. ^ Freeman' s Journal, July 24, 1782. Text from edition of 1786. ^ The prayer of the prince was soon answered. l68 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 To these far shores with longing hopes I came, (By birth a Briton, not unknown to fame) Pleasures to share that loyalty imparts, Subdue the rebels, and regain their hearts. Weak, stupid expectation — all is done ! Few are the prayers that rise for George's son ; Nought through the waste of these wide realms I trace, But rage, contempt, and curses on our race. Hosts with their chiefs by bold usurpers won. And not a blessing left for George's son ! Here on these isles* (my terrors not a few) I walk attended by the Tory crew : These from the first have done their best to please, But who would herd with sycophants like these? This exiled race, who their lost shores bemoan, Would bow to Satan, if he held our throne-— Rul'd by their fears — and what is meaner far. Have worshipp'd William only for his star! To touch my hand their thronging thousands strove. And tir'd my patience with unceasing love — In fame's fair annals told me I should live. But they, poor creatures, had no fame to give : Must Digby's royal pupil walk the streets, And smile on every ruffian that he meets ; Or teach them, as he has done — he knows when — That kings and princes are no more than men? Must I alas disclose, to our disgrace. That Britain is too small for George's race? Here in the west, where all did once obey. Three islands only, now, confess our sway ; And in the east we have not much to boast. For Hyder AH drives us fronl the coast : *New York and the neighbouring islands. — Freneau's note. 179°] SATAN'S REMONSTRANCE 169 Yield, rebels, yield — or I must go once more Back to the white cliffs of my native shore ; (Where, in process of time, shall go sir Guy, And where sir Harry has returned to sigh. Whose hands grew weak when things began to cross. Nor made one effort to retrieve our loss) Oatmeal and Scottish kale pots round me rise, — And Hanoverian turnips greet mine eyes ; — Welch goats and naked rocks my bosom swell. And Teague ! dear Teague ! — to thee I bid farewell^ Curse on the Dauphin and his friends, I say. He steals our honours and our rights away. Digby — our anchors! — weigh them to the bow. And eastward through the wild waves let us plow : Such dire resentments in mj' bosom burn, That to these shores I never will return, 'Till fruits and flowers on Zembla's coast are known, And seas congeal beneath the torrid zone. SATAN'S REMONSTRANCE! "^ [Occasioned by Mr. Rivington's Late Apology for Lying] Your golden dreams, your flattering schemes, Alas! where are they fled. Sir? Your plans derang'd, your prospects chang'd, You now may go to bed. Sir. — ' First published in tiie Freeman's Journal, August 7, 1782, witli the note, " See the Royal Gazette of the loth ult. and our last." The article in the Royal Gazette is as follows ; ' ' To the Public : " The Publisher of this paper, sensible that his zeal for the success of his Majesty's arms, his sanguine wishes for the good of his country and his friend- ship for individuals, have at times led him to credit and circulate paragraphs IJO POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 How could you thus, my partner dear, Give up the hopes of many a year? — Your fame retriev'd, and soaring high, In Truth's resemblance seem'd to fly; But now you grow so wondrous wise. You turn, and own that all is lies. A fabric that from hell we rais'd. On which astonish'd rebels gaz'd, And which the world shall ne'er forget. No less than Rivington's Gazette, Demolish'd at a single stroke — The angel Gabriel might provoke. "That all was lies," might well be true. But why must this be told by you? Great master of the wooden head, Where is thy wonted cunning fled? It was a folly to engage That truth henceforth should fill your page. When you must know, as well as I, Your only mission is to lie. Such are the plans which folly draws — We now, like bears, may suck our paws; — without investigating the facts so closely as his duty to the public demanded, trasting to their feelings and depending on their generosity, he begs them to look over past errors and depend on future correctness, for henceforth he will neither desire nor expect nor solicit their favors longer than his endeavors shall stamp the same degree of authenticity and credit on the Royal Gazette (of N. Y.) as all Europe allow to the Royal Gazette of London." T^i^ Freeman^ s Journal re^^nntsA this on July 31, with the comment: " From hence it is to be presumed that Satan, Rivington & Co. have thoughts of breaking up partnership.'' The text follows the edition of 1786. 1790] SATAN'S REMONSTRANCE 171 Brought up in lying from your youth, You should have dy'd a foe to truth, Since none but fools in this accord, That Virtue is its own reward.^ Your fortune was as good as made, Great artist in the lying trade ! But now I see with grief and pain Your credit cannot rise again : No more the favourite of my heart. No more will I my gifts impart. Yet something shall you gain at last For lies contriv'd in seasons past — When pressing to the narrow gate I'll show the portal mark'd by Fate, Where all mankind (as parsons say) Are apt to take the wider way. And, though the Royal Printer swear. Will bolt him in, and keep him there ! iThis stanza, printed in the edition of 1786, was omitted from the later editions. 172 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 THE REFUGEES' PETITION TO SIR GUY CARLETON' Humbly Sheweth — That your Honour's petitioners,^ Tories by trade, From the first of the war have lent Britain their aid, And done all they could, both in country and town. In support of the king and the rights of his crown ; But now, to their grief and confusion, they find " The de'il may take them who are farthest behind." In the rear of all rascals they still have been placed And Rebels and Frenchmen^ full often have faced. Have been in the midst of distresses and doubt Whene'er they came in or whene'er they went out; Have supported the king and defended his church And now, in the end, must be left in the lurch. Though often, too often, his arms were disgraced, We still were in hopes he would conquer at last, And restore us again to our sweethearts and wives The pride of our hearts and the joy of our lives — But he promised too far, and we trusted too much. And who could have looked for a war with the Dutch? Our board broken up, and discharged from our stations. Sir Guy ! it is cruel to cut off our rations ; ^ First published in the Freeman's Journal, August 28, 1782. Sir Guy Carleton's generous and humane nature was in marked contrast with the cruelty of his predecessors. Text is from the edition of 1809. ''■ The anxiety of the Tories during the closing months of the war was ex- ceedingly great. Sir Guy Carleton, the commander-in-chief, was, during all his stay in America, delayed with petitions, complaints, and remonstrances. ' " Halters and gibbets."— -£;/. I^86. 179°] SIR GUY'S ANSWER 173 Of a project like that, whoe'er was the mover, It is, we must tell you, a hellish manoeuvre, A plan to destroy us — the basest of tricks By means of starvation, a stigma to fix.^ If a peace be intended, as people surmise, (Though we hope from our souls these are nothing but lies) Inform us at once what we have to expect. Nor treat us, as usual, with surly neglect; Or else, while you Britons are shipping your freights^ We'll go to the Rebels, and get our estates. SIR GUY'S ANSWER We have reason to think there will soon be a peace. And that war with the Rebels will certainly cease ; But, be that as it will, I would have you to know That as matters are changing, we soon may change too ; In short, I would say, (since I have it at heart) Though the war should continue, yet we may depart. Four offers in season I therefore propose, (As much as I can do in reason, God knows) In which, though there be not too plentiful carving, There still is sufficient to keep you from starving. And, first of the first, it would mightily charm me To see you, my children, enlist in the army, Or enter the navy, and get for your pay, A farthing an hour, which is sixpence per day — There's Hector Clackmanan, and Arthur O'Gregor And Donald M'Donald shall rule you with vigour: ^ " To get us away to the shallows of Styx." — Ed. iy86. ^ " By the mass and the will of the fates." — lb. 174 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 If these do not suit you, then take your new plan, Make your peace with the rebels, (march off to a man) : ^ There rank and distinction perhaps you may find And rise into offices fit to your mind — But if still you object — I advise you to take a Farewell to New-York — and away to Jamaica.^ TO A CONCEALED ROYALIST ^ On a Virulent Attack ' ' We have force to crumble you into dust, although you were as hard as rocks, adamant, or jasper." Kien-Lhi, alias John Tuck, Viceroy of Canton^ When round the bark the howling tempest raves Tossed in the conflict of a thousand waves, The lubber landsmen weep, complain, and sigh, And on the pilot's skill, or heaven, rely; Lurk in their holes, astonished and aghast. Dreading the moment that must be their last. The tempest done — their terror also ceases. And up they come, and shew their shameless faces, ' " That is, if you can." — Ed. 1786. ^ " But if still you object — to be all on a level. Burn uf your red coats and go off to the Devil.''^ — lb. ^ During the summer of 1782 the Freeman's Journal waged a bitter war- fare with the Independent Gazetteer, a paper which had been established in Philadelphia on April 13, 1782, by Eleazer Oswald. To such extremes did this quarrel go that Oswald, defeated by the more nimble pen of his adversary, at length challenged him to a duel. The above poem marks the beginning of the poetical phase of the battle. It appeared in the Journal on the 28th of Continued on page lyj *This title first appeared in the 1809 edition. In the edition of 1795 the title was " To Shylock Ap-Shenkin, an abusive court writer." 179°] TO A CONCEALED ROYALIST 175 At once feel bold, and tell the pilot, too, He did no more than they — themselves — could do ! A Foe to Tyrants ! one your pen restores : — There is a Tyrant whom your soul adores : And every line you write too plainly shows. Your heart is hostile to that tyrant's foes. What, worse than folly, urged this genius dull With Churchill's^ wreathes to shade his leaden scull: So, midnight darkness union claims with light: So, oil and water in one mass unite :— August and was a reply to the following effusion published in the Gazetteer four days previously : " Mr. Oswald : The following lines are addressed to a most infamous Tyrant, . . and to a noted speculator when high in office. Yours, &c., A Foe to Tyrants. " Be wicked as you will, do all that's base. Proclaim yourselves the monsters of your race, Let vice and folly your dark souls divide. Be proud with meanness and be mean with pride. Deaf to the voice of faith and honour, fall From side to side, yet be of none at all: Spurn all those charities, those sacred ties. Which nature, in her bounty, good as wise. To work our safety and ensure her plan, Contriv'd to bind and rivet man to man: Lift against Virtue pow'r's oppressive rod. Betray your country, and deny your God." But candour in some future day will scan The actions of pale Joe and brazen Sam, Who're lost to virtue and all sense of shame, They've barter'd honour for some villain's name: Yet may they pass unnotic'd in the throng And, free from envy, safely sneak along; Let Clarkson tell how Joe is in disgrace And honest Jack will follow up the chase." ^The twelve lines in quotation points in the poem by "The Foe to Tyrants " were taken, with little change, from Churchill's " Epistle to William Hogarth." 176 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 No more your rage in plundered verse repeat, Sink into prose — even there no safe retreat.^ Reed's^ patriot fame to distant years may last, When rancorous reptiles to the dogs are cast, Or, where oblivion spreads her weary wings, Lost in the lumber of forgotten things ; And none shall ask, nor wish to know, nor care, Who — what their names — or when they lived — or where. ^ ' ' ' Sneak into prose — the dunce's last retreat. ' ' — Ed. iyS6. '^ The attack of ' ' The Foe to Tyrants " was directed mainly against Gen- eral Joseph Reed, the "pale Joe" of the poem. So bitter and persistent were the attacks of " Oswald's Scribblers " that Reed, in ^e Journal oi Sept. II, published a protest against the "set of men in this city [who] uninjured and unprovoked by me are weekly pouring forth some abuse under anonymous signatures." And early in 1783 he put forth a pamphlet entitled "Remarks on a late publication in the Independent Gazetteer, with a short address to the people of Pennsylvania on the many libels and slanders which have lately ap- peared against the author." A second edition was called for several weeks after the first issue of this pamphlet. ' Freneau signed these lines as they appeared in the Journal "A Foe to Malice." 179°] TO THE CONCEALED ROYALIST 177 TO THE CONCEALED ROYALIST ^ In Answer to a Second Attack 2 Quid immerentes hospiies vexas, canis Ignavus adversum lupos ? Quin hue inanes, si potes, vertis minus, Et me remorsurum peiis ? — — Hor. Epod. 10. Base as they are, this rancorous royal crew^ Seem baser still, when they are praised by you. By you adorned in regal garb they shine, Sweat through your verse, and stink in every line. True child of folly — eldest of her tribe — How could you dream that you were worth a bribe. — ^ This poem appeared in the Journal, September 4, 1782, in answer to the following, which had been published in the Gazetteer, August 31, 1782 : " Mr. Oswald : Please give the following Lines, addressed to the Foe to Malice, a Place in your useful Paper ; in order to conviiice this great Poet {who never borrowed a Line in his Life) how easy it is to take his Battery, and turn it against himself. A FoE TO Tyrants. " When in the Bark, the unskilful Pilot raves, And lets her drive amidst conflicting waves ; The free-born Landsmen rous'd, complain, and cry. What Pilot's this, on whom we can't rely ? We're wreck'd, undone, and driven on the shore, Unless you quit the helm, and steer no more. The Pilot, conscious of the mischief done. Not knowing what to do, or where to run, Lurks to his hole, astonish'd and aghast. Dreading the moment that must be his last. Continued, page lyS 2 The title in the edition of 1786 was " To the Foe to Tyrants," and in 1795 " To Shylock Ap-Shenkin." Freneau translates the stanza from Horace as follows : "A dog, cowardly against wolves, yet molests strangers that have no quarrel with him — approach, whelp, and attack us, who are able to dash your teeth down your throat." ^ "Vile as they are, this lukewarm Tory crew." — Ed. 1786. 1/8 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Ill-fated scribbler, with a pointless quill, Retract the threat you dare not to fulfil : Round your own neck the wythe or halter twine. And be the science of a hangman thine : — ^ Have we from you purloined one shred of wit, Or did we imitate one line you writ ? Peace to your verse ! — we do not rob the dead. The clay-cold offspring of a brazen head. Docjtor ! retire ! what madness would it be To point artillery at a mite like thee ? — Such noxious vermin clambering from their shell. By squibs and crackers might be killed as well. ' ' ' And round your neck the wythe or halter twine, And be the office of the hangman mine." — Ed. jy86. The tempest o'er — his terrors also fled, Once more upon the deck he shews his head. At once grown brave, he tells the people too, He did for them, whatever man could do. But cease thy boasting — Freemen all will think, A Bark thus manag'd, in the deep must sink. "A Foe to Tyrants — ne'er receiv'd a Bribe, Nor Gold ador'd, nor stuck to Johnston's side ; With malice stupid, ev'ry line must show. The man that's Johnston's friend is not thy foe. What wond'rous fancy urg'd thy genius bright, r To speak of Churchill — as if thou coud'st write ; I To shine in borrow^ d flumes, with base design, > And to oblivion worthy men consign. Reptiles and Dogs, and all those dreary things. Bespeak the mind from whence such slander springs ; Dirt thou may'st throw — the dunce's last retreat, For none but dunces will thy lines repeat. Not Churchill's wreathes, but hick'ry withes will do. To twine thy brows, and lace thy jacket too ; Leave thy friend R , we've had enough of him, For abler Pilots live the Bark to trim. What ! if a thousand Joes should wince and bawl, One honest Jack would make amends for all." 1790] TO THE CONCEALED ROYALIST 179 But, if you must torment the world with rhymes, (Perhaps you came to curse us for our crimes) In sleepy odes indulge your smoky wit, Pindarics would your happy genius fit — With your coarse white-wash daub some miscreant's face, Puppies advanced, or traitors in disgrace : ^ To gain immense renown we leave you free. Go, scratch and scribble, uncontrouled by me : — Haste to the realms of nonsense and despair — The ghosts of murdered rhymes will meet you there ; Like rattling chains provoke unceasing fears. And with eternal jinglings — stun your ears. TO THE CONCEALED ROYALIST^ On His Farewell " I will meet you, Brutus, at Philippi." — Roman History. Since ink, thank heaven ! is all the blood you spill, Health to the driver of the grey goose quill : Such war shall leave no widow in despair. Nor curse one orphan with the public care. ' " Blockheads in power or traitors in disgrace." — Ed. 1786. 2 In the Journal of September 11, 1782, in answer to the effusion of the "Foe to Tyrants" in the Gazetteer of September 7, entitled, "To the Foe to Malice. The Farewell." This farewell began as follows : " When men will prostitute the power of rhime. Their dirt and malice jingling out of time ; When men the sacred shrine of truth forsake. And deal in slander, just for slander's sake, 'Tis time to quit plain reason, common sense. And in their stile Correction to dispense. l8o POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 'Tis the worst wound the heart of man can feel, When touched, or worried, by an ass's heel — With generous satire give your foes their due, Nay, give them more, and prove them scoundrels too: Make them as black as hell's remotest gloom. But still to genius let them owe their doom : — By Jove's red lightnings 'tis no shame to bleed. But by a grovelling swine — is death indeed ! — Now, by the laurels of your royal crew, I knew no shame, till I engaged with you : — But such an odour atraosphered your song, I held my nose, and quickly passed along. Grieved for the wretch who could such filth display. His maw disgorging in the public way. Armed though we are, unusual tumults rise; — But all resentment in my bosom dies. We deem, that in the skirmish of a day, This bard must perish, and his verse decay : This day he goes to black oblivion's clime ; Turned, chased, and routed by the "power of rhyme." We wished him still unhandled and unhurt — We wished no evils to this man of dirt; We thought to leave him sweltering in his den, Not with such rotten trash to tinge the pen : But his mean labours wrought his present woe, And his own scribblings, now, have laid him low ! " Our Theme first pointed to yoWipale-fac'd friend Whom you forsook— unable to defend ; To save his fame, you thought it best to fly To vile abuse, and low scurrility ; Then feel the Weapons you yourself have us'd And blame not those you've dirtily abus'd." The rest of the poem is too vile to reproduce. i . 1790] TO THE ROYALIST UNVEILED l8l Before his eyes the sexton's spade appears, And muffled bells disorganize his ears : Already is his mean existence fled, Sense, wit, and reason — all proclaim him dead : In his own lines he tolled his funeral bell. And when he could not sing — he stunk — farewell ! TO THE ROYALIST UNVEILED ^ (And addressed to all whom it may concern) The sage who took the wrong sow by the ears, And more than kingdoms claimed for Vermonteers ; Who, from twelve wigwams down to eight decreased. Is now your prophet, and may serve for priest — Ye, who embraced the democratic plan. Yet with false tears beheld the wrongs of man — 'This poem appeared September 25, 1782. The laureate of the Inde- pendent Gazetteer, after his farewell on September 7, was silent until October 15, when he produced the following : ' ' Stanzas addressed to little Fr — N — u, Poetaster to the Skunk-scented association, and successful imitator of Sternhold and Hopkins, of poetical memory ; in humble imitation of his own doggerel. ' ' Fr — n — u, great man ! 'tis thee I sing. And to thy shrine just incense bring The attribute of praise; To thee, who scorn'd all common rules. Supreme of dunces, chief of fools, I dedicate my lays. " Sternhold is dead ! What though he be ? Another Sternhold now in thee Beotia's sons explore ; Like this, thy mind is clear and bright. Transparent as the darkest night. When angry tempests roar. I82 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 To him apply — go — soothe him in distress/ To him fall prostrate — and to him confess. When first that slave of slaves began to write, Truth cursed his pen, and Reason took her flight : Dullness on him her choicest opiates shed, Black as his heart, and sleepy as his head. Him on her soil Hibernia could not bear; The viper sickened in that wholesome air, — Then rushed abroad, a Jesuit, in disguise. Flush, on the wings of malice, rage, and lies ; ^ ' ' To him apply, dear Oswald, in distress. " — Indefendent Gazetteer. ' ' Thy verse, but ah ! my powers are vain. To tell the wonders of thy brain Where mists of dullness sit ; Cimmerian darkness round thy head, It's sable mantle long hath spread. To veil thy wooden wit. ' ' Thy satire, mystic type of lead. Keen as a dart without a head, And vigorous as age ; 'T would almost make a mill-stone cry To have thy muse its enemy. When cloathed in her rage. " Thy bold, heroic numbers swell. As lofty as the deepest well Where noxious vapours rise ; Thy song as sweet as Bellman's note. When spun through Mitchell's * brazen throat, Or midnight Watchmen's cries. ' ' Thy eyes, the index of the soul, With mad, poetic fury roll. In eager search of fame ; Thy face, ye gods ! ah ! what a face ! Thy air, thy port, thy quaint grimmace. Add honor to thy name. ♦ Cryer of Philadelphia. 179°] TO THE ROYALIST UNVEILED 183 To this new world a nuisance and a pest, To curse the worthy, and abuse the best. Thou base born mass of insolence and dirt, With all the will, but not the power to hurt ; Whose shallow brain each empty line reveals — Art thou worth draggling at our chariot wheels? Who, on the surface of a rugged ground. Would stoop to trail your carcass round and round? — No — like a Felon, hanged to after time, Be one more victim to the " force of rhyme." "When, late, sleep's Goddess, clos'd my eyes, And dreams in sweet gradation rise. Soul-soothing guests of night, Methought the cloud-invelop'd Queen * Display'd her dull, somnific mien. In majesty and might. ' ' Thick, opiate dews she did dispense, Whilst poppies, foes to wit and sense. Hung pendant from her head ; Safe in her hand, by love, impell'd. Great Fr — n — u's sacred form she held, Impress'd on genuine lead. " With blinking, am'rous, rush-light eyes She view'd her blest Saturnine prize. As conscious of his worth ; Then smooth'd the wrinkles of her frown, And shook her poppy-teeming crown, With unaffected mirth, " ' Go on (she cry'd), with fervent zeal. Thou glory of that common-weal. Where dullness bears the sway ! E'en L — e to thee shall yield the chair, His rhimes shall vanish into air, Before thy duller lay. • The Queen of Dullness. l84 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Waft us, ye powers, to some sequestered place, Where never malice shewed its hateful face — Remove us far from all the ruffian kind (Baseness with insolence forever joined) To some retreat of solitude and rest — Nor shall another pang disturb the breast — When thought returns — and one regrets to know, He had to combat with a two-faced foe. " ' Corcoran,* long ago, hath fled, And roving Jem,-|- 'tis said, is dead. Those foes to common sense ; Now Fr — n — u thou, their son and heir. More stupid than a stupid mare, Steps forth in my defence. ' ' ' Thee shall no wisdom e'er molest. No wit shall perforate thy breast, Nor humour shew her face; Thy drowsy verse shall prove a balm. Specific as the hundredth psalm. When W — ch — r sings base. " ' Each flow'r of Billingsgate I'll cull. To render thee, my son, more dull, If duller thou canst be. Thy works with Stemhold's shall be bound, While Hopkins, from the dark profound. Shall yield the palm to thee. ' " She ceas'd, and all that own'd her cause. In one loud transport of applause, Burst like a sudden gale ; All hail, great man ! was Bailey's cry, Hail ! Joe, and Skunk, and Tom, reply. Dullness and Fr — n — u, hail ! " • Dr. Corcoran, a poetaster, well known. + Jemmy, the rover, a sonnetter of the Pennsylvania line. 1790] TO SHYLOCK AP-SHENKIN 185 TO SHYLOCK AP-SHENKIN ^ Long have I sate on this disastrous shore, And, sighing, sought to gain a passage o'er To Europe's courts, where, as our travellers say. Poets may flourish, or — perhaps — they may; But such abuse has from your coarse pen fell Perhaps I may defer my voyage as well. Why should I far in search of patrons roam, And Shy lock leave to triumph here at home? ^ The first eight lines of this poem appeared first as the opening stanza of MacSwiggin, published in 1775; the rest of the poem was first published in Hat. Freeman! s Journal oi Dec. 18, 1782, and republished in the 1786 edition under the title " To Whom it may Concern." The above version was made for the edition of 1795, but was not reprinted in 1809. The Gazetteer of the following week (Dec. 21) contained several parodies of Freneau's poem, one of which was as follows: " Mr. Oswald : — Whereas a copy of verses of my composition appeared in Bailey's paper, of whom I should have expected more circumspection, I have sent you a genuine copy as they ought to have been printed, the justice of which I hope everybody acquainted with the persons will acknowledge. The Author. " Should Oswald's painters all my features trace, And shew me as I am in soul and face ; Among the vile and worthless of mankind, Without a spark of virtue in my mind. And write my name beneath, I would reply, The portrait, though a true one, told a lie. "Still shall my bagpipes of sedition play, And I, like other dogs, shall have my day ; My hoarse-mouth'd cry shall war with sense proclaim. And madly howl at ev'ry virtuous name ; Our hungry scribes in verse and prose shall join. Though Chaos glooms through ev'ry stupid line ; In spite of sense we'll write, by shame unhurt. And all our rage discharge, and all our dirt. Night-owls will screech, since Heav'n has left them free. And wolves will howl, or wolves they would not be. 1 86 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Should Shylock's poems* style you all that's base, Abuse your stature, and malign^ your face. Make you the worst and vilest of your kind. With not one spark of virtue^ in your mind; Would you to Shylock's^ rancorous page reply, So fam'd for scandal, and so prone to lie? Still may those bag-pipes of sedition play, (For fools may write" and knaves must have their day) Still from that page let clamorous bards* defame, And madness rave, and malice take her aim : May scribes on scribes in verse and prose combine, And fiend-like Sawney roar^ through every line; Long may they write, unquestion'd and unhurt. And all their rage discharge, and all their dirt : Night-owls must screech, by heaven's supreme decree. And wolves must howl, or wolves they would not be. From empty froth these scribbling insects rose ; What honest man but counts them for his foes? When they are lash'd, may dunce with dunce condole. And bellow nonsense from the tortured soul ; ' ' Although from dirt, we like musquetoes rose, And quiet people count us still their foes; When we are crush'd, or chas'd from hole to hole, We'll strive to tease and torture ev'ry soul. When we are dead and in some ditch are cram'd (For die we must, and with our works be damn'd), When we shall howl our last departing groans, And brother dogs regale upon our bones ; The horrors of our souls awhile to calm, Let me compose, and Duffield sing a psalm." ' "Oswald's scribblers." — Freeman! s Journal. " " Blaspheme."— ^rf. iy86. ' " Reason."—/*, * "Who would to Oswald's." — Freeman's Journal. ^ " Must prate and dogs." — Ed. i'j86. ° " Hoarse-mouth 'd whelps." — lb. ' " And one dark chaos gloom." — lb. 1790] THE PROPHECY OF KING TAMMANY 187 When they are dead and in some dungeon cramm'd, (For die they will, and all their works be damn'd) When they have belch'd their last departing groans, May dogs and doctors barbecue^ their bones. And, the last horrors of their souls to calm, Shylock, their bard,^ console them with — a psalm ! THE PROPHECY OF KING TAMMANY ' The Indian chief who, famed of yore, Saw Europe's sons adventuring here. Looked, sorrowing, to the crowded shore. And sighing dropt a tear ! He saw them half his world explore. He saw them draw the shining blade. He saw their hostile ranks displayed. And cannons blazing through that shade Where only peace was known before. "Ah, what unequal arms!" he cried, " How art thou fallen, my country's pride, "The rural, sylvan reign! " Far from our pleasing shores to go "To western rivers, winding slow, " Is this the" boon the gods bestow ! ' " Canonize." — Freemati s Journal. ^ " Fallon, the priest."— ^(f. 17S6. ' Published in the Freeman's Journal, December 11, 1782. Tammany was an Indian chieftain of the Lenni Lennape Confederacy of New York and Pennsylvania during the early colonial era. There is a tradi- tion that he was the first Indian to welcome William Penn to America. Some traditions locate his lodge near the present site of Princeton College and others make him end his long life near a spring in Bucks county, Pa. He figures in Cooper's novel, " The Last of the Mohicans." l88 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 " What have we done, great patrons, say, " That strangers seize our woods away, " And drive us naked from our native plain? " Rage and revenge inspire my soul, " And passion burns without controul; " Hence, strangers, to your native shore! " Far from our Indian shades retire, " Remove these gods that vomit fire, "And stain with blood these ravaged glades no more; " In vain I weep, in vain I sigh, " These strangers all our arms defy, " As they advance our chieftains die! — " What can their hosts oppose! " The bow has lost its wonted spring, " The arrow faulters on the wing, " Nor carries ruin from the string " To end their being and our woes. " Yes, yes, — I see our nation bends; " The gods no longer are our friends; — " But why these weak complaints and sighs? " Are there not gardens in the west, " Where all our far-famed Sachems rest? — " I'll go, an unexpected guest, " And the dark horrors of the way despise. " Even now the thundering peals draw nigh, " 'Tis theirs to triumph, ours to die! " But mark me. Christian, ere I go — " Thou, too, shalt have thy share of woe; " The time rolls on, not moving slow, " When hostile squadrons for your blood shall come. 179°] THE PROPHECY OF KING TAMMANY 189 " And ravage all your shore ! " Your warriors and your children slay, " And some in dismal dungeons lay, " Or lead them captive far away " To climes unknown, through seas untried before. " When struggling long, at last with pain " You break a cruel tyrant's chain, " That never shall be joined again, " When half your foes are homeward Hed, " And hosts on hosts in triumph led, " And hundreds maimed and thousands dead, " A sordid race will then succeed, " To slight the virtues of the firmer race, " That brought your tyrant to disgrace, " Shall give your honours to an odious train, " Who shunned all conflicts on the main " And dared no battles on the bloody plain, " Whose little souls sunk in the gloomy day " When virtue only could support the fray " And sunshine friends kept off — or ran away." So spoke the chief, and raised his funeral pyre — Around him soon the crackling flames ascend ; He smiled amid the fervours of the fire To think his troubles were so near their end, 'Till the freed soul, her debt to nature paid. Rose from the ashes that her prison made. And sought the world unknown, and dark oblivion's shade. 190 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 RIVINGTON'S REFLECTIONS^ I. The more I reflect, the more plain it appears, If I stay, I must stay at the risque of my ears, I have so be-peppered the foes of our throne, Be-rebelled, be-deviled, and told them their own. That if we give up to these rebels at last,^ 'Tis a chance if my ears will atone for the past. 'Tis always the best to provide for the worst — So evacuation I'll mention the first: If Carleton should sail for our dear native shore (As Clinton, Cornwallis, and Howe did before) And take off the soldiers that serve for our guard, (A step that the Tories would think rather hard) Yet still I surmise, for aught I can see. No Congress or Senates would meddle with me. For what have I done, when we come to consider, But sold my commodities to the best bidder? ' Published in the Freeman! s Journal, December, 1782, in two installments and inserted without change in the edition of 1786. The first installment bore the motto " Inclusus pcenam" expectat. — Virg. ," and the second the motto " Incertus quo fata ferant, quo sistere detur. — Virg." Almost no change was • made in the text for the later editions. Rivington bore this attack with cool- Iness; he calmly inserted the first installment of the poem in his Royal Gazette ! for December 14, and gave to it the following introduction: " Mr. Rivington, having been applied to by many gentlemen for a pleasant publication respect- ing himself, exhibited in the Philadelphia Freeman s Journal, of December 4th, takes leave to copy it into this Day's Gazette, and assures the Author that a Column shall at any time be most cheerfully reserved to convey that Gentleman's lively Lucubrations to the Public." ^ " Rivington, in his Gazette, fought the Rebels, a term of which he made very frequent use while he entertained the opinion that the Americans would be subjected by the British arms." — Thomas's History of Printing. 179°] RIVINGTON'S REFLECTIONS I91 If I offered to lie for the sake of a post, Was I to be blamed if the king offered most? The King's Royal Printer! — Five hundred a year! Between you and me, 'twas a handsome affair: Who would not for that give matters a stretch, And lie back and forward, and carry and fetch. May have some pretensions to honour and fame — f But what are they both but the sound of a name, ! Mere words to deceive us, as I have found long since, } Live on them a week, and you'll find them but non- sense. The late news from Charleston my mind has per- plext. If that is abandoned, — I know what goes next : This city of York is a place of great note. And that we should hold it I now give my vote ; But what are our votes against Shelburne's^ decrees? These people at helm steer us just where they please. So often they've had us all hands on the brink. They'll steer us at last to the devil, I think : And though in the danger themselves have a share, It will do us small good that they also go there. It is true that the Tories, their children, and wives Have offered to stay at the risque of their lives. And gain to themselves an immortal renown By all turning soldiers, and keeping the town : Whoe'er was the Tory that struck out the plan. In my humble conceit, was a very good man ; But our words on this subject need be very few — Already I see that it never will do : ' Shelburne was at the head of the British ministry but seven months, yet in that time, by his firmness and zeal, he accomplished a final settlement of the quarrel with the colonies. "The treaty," says Bancroft, "which ruled the fate of a hemisphere was mainly due to Lord Shelburne." 192 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 For, suppose a few ships should be left us by Britain, With Tories to man them, and other things fitting. In truth we should be in a very fine box, As well they might guard us with ships on the stocks. And when I beheld them aboard and afloat, I am sure I should think of the bear in the boat.* On the faith of a printer, things look very black — And what shall we do, alas ! and alack ! Shall we quit our young princes and full blooded peers. And bow down to viscounts and French chevaliers? Perhaps you may say, " As the very last shift " We'll go to New-Scotland, and take the king's gift." Good folks, do your will — but I vow and I swear, I'll be boil'd into soup before I'll live there : Is it thus that our monarch his subjects degrades? — Let him go and be damned, with his axes and spades. Of all the vile countries that ever were known In the frigid, or torrid, or temperate zone, (From accounts that I've had) there is not such another; It neither belongs to this world or the other: A favor they think to send us there gratis To sing like the Jews at the river Euphrates, And, after surmounting the rage of the billows, Hang ourselves up at last with our harps on the willows ; Ere I sail for that shore, may I take my last nap — Why, it gives me the palsy to look on its map ! And he that goes there (though I mean to be civil) May fairly be said to have gone to the devil. Shall I push for Old England, and whine at the throne? Indeed ! they have Jemmies enough of their own ! Besides, such a name I have got from my trade, They would think I was lying, whatever I said ; * See Gay's Fables. — Freneau's note, Ed. lySt. i79°J RIVINGTON'S REFLECTIONS I93 Thus scheme as I will, or contrive as I may, Continual difficulties rise in the way : In short, if they let me remain in this realm, ^j What is it to Jemmy who stands at the helm? ' \ I'll petition the rebels (if York is forsaken) For a place in their Zion which ne'er shall be shaken I am sure they'll be clever : it seems their whole study : They hung not young Asgill for old captain Huddy,^ And it must be a truth that admits no denying. If they spare us for Murder they'll spare us for Lying. II. Folks may think as they please, but to me it would seem. That our great men at home have done nothing but dream : Such trimming and twisting and shifting about, And some getting in, and others turned out; And yet, with their bragging and looking so big. All they did was to dance a theatrical jig. Seven years now, and more, we have tried every plan. And are just as near conquering as when we began, ^The Freeman's Journal oi April 24 and May I, 1782, gives full details of the Huddy affair. I can do no better than to quote Freneau's own version of the episode contributed to the Journalior June 12: "Capt. Huddy, of the Jersey militia, was attacked in a small fort on Tom's river, by a party of refugees in the British pay and service, was made prisoner, together with his company, carried to New York, and lodged in the provost of that city ; about three weeks after which, he was taken out of the provost down to the water side, put into a boat and brought again to the Jer- sey shore, and there, contrary to the practice of all nations but savages, was hung up on a tree [April 8, 1782] and left hanging until found by our people, who took him down and buried him. " The inhabitants of that part of the country where the murder was com- mitted, sent a deputation to general Washington, with a full and certified state 194 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Great things were expected from Clinton and Howe, But what have they done, or where are they now? Sir Guy was sent over to kick up a dust, Who already prepares to return in disgust — The object delusive we wish to attain Has been in our reach, and may be so again — I But so oddly does heaven its bounties dispense, \ And has granted our king such a small share of sense p That, let Fortune favour or smile as she will, I We are doomed to drive on, like a horse in a mill, 1 And though we may seem to advance on our rout, 'Tis but to return to where we sate out. From hence I infer (by way of improvement) That nothing is got by this circular movement; And I plainly perceive, from this fatal delay. We are going to ruin the round-about way ! Some nations, like ships, give up to the gale, And are hurried ashore with a full flowing sail ; So Sweden submitted to absolute power. And freemen were changed to be slaves in an hour ; Thus Theodore soon from his grandeur came down. Forsaking his subjects and Corsican crown ; But we — 'tis our fate, without ally or friend. To go to perdition, close hauled to the wind. of the fact. Struck as every human breast must be, with such outrage, and determined both to punish and prevent it for the future, the general repre- sented the case to general Clinton, who then commanded, and demanded that the refugee officer who ordered and attended the execution, and whose name is Lippencut, should be delivered up as a murderer, and in case of refusal that the person of some British officer should suffer in his stead. The demand, though not refused, has not been complied with, and the melancholy lot (not by selection, but by casting lots) has fallen upon captain Asgil of the guards, who, as I have already mentioned, is on his way from Lancaster to camp, a martyr to the general wickedness of the cause he engaged in, and the ingrati- tude of those he-has served." Asgill was finally released. 179°] RIVINGTON'S REFLECTIONS 195 The case is too plain, that if I stay here I have something to hope and something to fear: In regard to my carcase, I should n't mind that — I can say " I have lived," and have grown very fat; Have been in my day remarkable shifty. And soon, very soon, will be verging on fifty. 'Tis time for the state of the dead to prepare, 'Tis time to consider how things will go there; Some few are admitted to Jupiter's hall, But the dungeons of Pluto are open to all — 'The day is approaching as fast as it can [ When Jemmy will be a mere moderate man, Will sleep under ground both summer and winter. The hulk of a man, and the shell of a printer, And care not a farthing for George, or his line, What empires start up, or what kingdoms decline^ Our parson last Sunday brought tears from my eyes, When he told us of heaven, I thought of my lies — To his flock he described it, and laid it before 'em, (As if he had been in its Sanctum Sanctorum') Recounted its beauties that never shall fade, And quoted John Bunyan to prove what he said; Debarred from the gate who the Truth should deny, Or " whosoe'er loveth or maketh a lie." Through the course of my life it has still been my lot In spite of myself, to say " things that are not." And therefore suspect that upon my decease Not a poet will leave me to slumber in peace. But at least once a week be-scribble the stone Where Jemmy, poor Jemmy, lies sleeping alone! Howe'er in the long run these matters may be. If the scripture is true, it has bad news for me — And yet, when I come to examine the text, And the learned annotations that Poole has annexed. 196 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Throughout the black list of the people that sin I cannot once find that I'm mention'd therein ; Whoremongers, idolators, all are left out, And wizards and dogs (which is proper, no doubt) But he who says, I'm there, mistakes or forgets — It mentions no Printers of Royal Gazettes ! In truth, I have need of a mansion of rest, And here to remain might suit me the best — Philadelphia in some things would answer as well, (Some Tories are there, and my papers might sell) But then I should live amongst wrangling and strife, And be forced to say credo the rest of my life : For their sudden conversion I'm much at a loss — /' I am told that they bow to the wood of the cross, And worship the reliques transported from Rome, St. Peter's toe-nails, and St. Anthony's comb. — If thus the tru* faith they no longer defend I scarcely can think where the madness will end — If the greatest among them submit to the Pope, What reason have I for indulgence to hope? If the Congress themselves to the Chapel did pass,* Ye may swear that poor Jemmy would have to sing mass. * " On the 4th of November last, the clergy and select men of Boston " paraded through the streets after a crucifix, and joined in a procession in ' ' praying for a departed soul out of Purgatory ; and for this they gave the " example of Congress, and other American leaders, on a former occasion at ' ' Philadelphia, some of whom, in the height of their zeal, even went so far as "to sprinkle themselves with what they call Holy water .'"— Royal Gazette, of December 11 inst. — Freneaus note. 1 79°] NEW YEAR'S VERSES 197 NEW YEAR'S VERSES Addressed to those Gentlemen who have been pleased to favour Francis Wrigley, News Carrier, with their custom January i, 1783 According to custom, once more I appear With the verse you expect at the dawn of the year: For at length we have got into Eighty and Three ; And in spite of proud Britain, are happy and free. If the times have been hard, and our commerce gone wrong. We still have been able to struggle along. If some, through misfortunes, are slack in the purse, It is not so bad but it might have been worse. Great things, the year past, were reveal'd to our eyes : The Dutch have confess'd us their friends and allies; And humbled the pride of our haughty invaders. By fighting their fleets and destroying their traders. If the English succeeded in taking the Count, To what, in the end, did their conquest amount ? With their boasts, and their brags, and their shouts of applause. It but sav'd them from ruin — not ruin'd our cause. But leaving the weight of political cares To those, who are plac'd at the helm of affairs, To the humours of fortune in all things resign'd, I mean by my visit to put you in mind. That, as true as a clock, both early and late. With the news of the day I have knock'd at your gate, And gave you to know what the world was a doing. What Louis intended, or George was a brewing. lg8 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 If sometimes the papers were trifling and flat, And the news went against us, — I cou'dn't help that; If parties were angry, and vented their spite, I bro't you their wranglings — not help'd them to write. I therefore presume (and not without reason) You'll remember your Newsman, and think of the season ; The markets are high, and the weather is cold ; No party I serve, and no pension I hold. We Hawkers are men, and have children and wives To comfort our hearts, and to solace our lives : But if I say more, you'll think it is stuff; And a word to the wise is, in reason, enough. NEW YEAR'S VERSES ^ Addressed to the Customers of the Freeman's Journal, by the Lad who carries it January 8, 1783 Let those who will, in hackney'd rhyme And common cant, take up your time, And even the muse's aid implore To tell you what you knew before. The days are short and nights are long. The weather cold and hunger strong. The markets high — and such like stuff — I'm sure you know it well enough; — Untaught by us, I dare to say. You hit, exactly. New Year's day, ^ Text of this and the preceding poem from the edition of 1786. The last twenty-four lines of the above were republished in the edition of 1795, under the title " On the New-Year's Festival." 179°] NEW YEAR'S VERSES 1 99 And knew at least as well as we The present year is eighty-three ; — (Such simple things as these to tell A mere drum head would do as well — ) All this I knew you knew before, And therefore knock'd not at your door Upon the individual day When eighty-three came into play, With verses for the purpose plann'd Bidding you gravely watch your sand, Since death is always near at hand ; All this I left to those whose trade is To threaten beaus and frighten ladies. And brought my papers, (swiftly speeding) The Freeman's Journal, for your reading. Unhappy Journal, doom'd by fate To meet with unrelenting hate. From those who can their venom spit. Yet condescend to steal your wit; While Timon, with malicious spirit. Allows you not a grain of merit, While he an idle pomp assumes Let him return his borrow'd plumes, And you will find the insect creeping With not a feather worth the keeping. But this is neither here nor there. May quarrels past dissolve in air; In Stygian waves of sable hue Be all absorb'd with Eighty-Two, Or, lost on Lethe's silent shore, Disgrace our rising State no more. Another word I meant to say, (Kind customers, have patience, pray. My subject is the New Year's Day) 200 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 How came it that mistaken man Has thus inverted nature's plan, And contradicted common reason By making this the mirthful season, When all is dreary, dull, and dead. The sun to southern climates fled To dart his fierce and downright beams Intensely on Brazilian streams ; No daisies on the frozen plain. No daffodils to please the swain, The limpid wave compell'd to freeze, And not a leaf upon the trees ! — 'Tis wrong^ — the very birds will say, Their New Year is the bloom of May ; Then nature calls to soft delights. And they obey as she invites. And yet this happiness below. Which all would gain but few know how, Is not to time or place confin'd, 'Tis seated only in the mind ; Let seasons vary as they will. Contentment leaves us happy still. Makes life itself pass smooth away. Makes every hour a New Year's day. I79°] HUGH GAINE'S LIFE 20I POLITICAL BIOGRAPHY' HUGH GAINE'S LIFE* City ov New-York, Jan. i, i783.-|- To the Senate % of York, with all due submission. Of honest Hugh Gaine the humble Petition j'^ An account of his Life he will also prefix. And some trifies that happejied in seventy-six ; He hopes that your Honours will take no offence, If he sends you some groans of contrition from hence. And, further, to prove that he^s truly sincere. He wishes you all a happy New Year. And, first, he informs, in his representation. That he once was a printer of good reputation, And dwelt in the street called Hanover Square, (You'll know where it is, if you ever was there) Next door to the dwelling^ of doctor Brownjohn, (Who now to the drug-shop^ of Pluto is gone) But what do I say — who e'er came to town. And knew not Hugh Gaine at the Bible and Crown. * A character well remembered in New York, and the adjacent States, — now deceased. — Freneau's note. Gaine died April 25, 1807. f The British army evacuated New York the November following. — lb. X The Legislature of the State were at this time in session at Fishkill. — lb. ' First published in the Freeman' s Journal in several installments, the first appearing Jan. 8, 1783. Hugh Gaine began as a printer in New York in 1750, and two years later established the New York Mercury. His imprint for many years was " Printed by Hugh Gaine, Printer, Bookseller, Stationer, at the Bible and Crown, in Hanover Square." Upon the beginning of hostilities with England he at first sided with the patriots. ' ' Gaine's polit- ical creed it seems was to join the strongest party. When the British troops Continued, page 202 * " It is to be questioned if Gaine ever wrote a petition." — Paul Leicester Ford. 3 " Drug shop." — Ed. lySd. * " Dog house." — lb. 202 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Now, if I was ever so given to lie, My dear native country I wouldn't deny ; (I know you love Teagues) and I shall not conceal That I came from the kingdom where Phelim O'Neale And other brave worthies ate butter and cheese, And walk'd in the clover-fields up to their knees ; Full early in youth, without basket or burden. With a staff in my hand, I passed over Jordan, (I remember my comrade was doctor Magraw,* And many strange things on the waters we saw. Sharks, dolphins, and sea-dogs, bonettas, and whales. And birds at the tropic, with quills in their tails) And came to your city and government seat, And found it was true you had something to eat ; When thus I wrote home — "The country is good, "They have plenty of victuals and plenty of wood: The people are kind, and, whatever they think, " I shall make it appear, I can swim where they'll sink; "Dear me! they're so brisk, and so full of good cheer, "By my soul, I suspect they have always new year, "And therefore conceive it is good to be here." So said, and so acted — I put up a press. And printed away with amazing success ; Neglected my person, and looked like a fright, Was bothered all day, and was busy all night, * A cynical and very eccentric Physician. — Freneaus note. were about to take possession of New York in 1776, he left the city and set up his press at Newark ; but soon after, in the belief that appearances were against the ultimate success of the United States, he privately withdrew from Newark and returned to New York. At the conclusion of the war, he peti- tioned the State legislature for leave to remain in the city and, having obtained permission, his press was employed in book printing, etc., but his newspaper was discontinued when the British army left." — Thomas' History of Philadel- phia, I have used the text from the edition of 1809. I 1790] HUGH GAINE'S LIFE 203 Saw money come in, as the papers went out, While Parker and Weyman* were driving about, And cursing and swearing, and chewing their cuds. And wishing Hugh Gaine and his press in the suds: Ned Weyman was printer, you know to the king, And thought he had got all the world in a string, (Though riches not always attend on a throne) So he swore I had found the philosopher's stone, And called me a rogue, and a son of a bitch. Because I knew better than him to get rich. To malice like that 'twas in vain to reply — You had known by his looks he was telling a lie. Thus life ran away, so smooth and serene — Ah ! these were the happiest days I had seen ! But the saying of Jacob I found to be true, \ " The days of thy servant are evil and few ! " ; The days that to me were joyous and glad, | Are nothing to those which are dreary and sad ! I The feuds of the Stamp Act foreboded foul weather, And war and vexation all coming together: Those days were the days of riots and mobs. Tar, feathers, and tories, and troublesome jobs — Priests preaching up war for the good of our souls. And libels, and lying, and Liberty poles. From which, when some whimsical colours you waved. We had nothing to do, but look up and be saved — (You thought, by resolving, to terrify Britain — Indeed, if you did, you were damnably bitten) I knew it would bring an eternal reproach, When I saw you a-burning Cadwallader'sf coach; * New York Printers, many years before the Revolution. — FreneaiCs note. Parker and Weyman were in partnership in the printing business be- tween the years 1753 and 1759, during which time they were the leading printers of New York. f Lieutenant-Governor Cadwallader Golden. — lb. 204 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 I knew you would suffer for what you had done, When I saw you lampooning poor Sawney his son, And bringing him down to so wretched a level, As to ride him about in a cart with the devil. Well, as I predicted that matters would be — To the stamp-act succeeded a tax upon Tea: What chest-fulls were scattered, and trampled, and drowned. And yet the whole tax was but threepence per pound! May the hammer of Death on my noddle descend, And Satan torment me to time without end. If this was a reason to fly into quarrels. And feuds that have ruined our manners and morals; A parson himself might have sworn round the compass. That folks for a trifle should make such a rumpus. Such a rout as to set half the world in a rage. Make France, Spain, and Holland with Britain engage, While the Emperor, the Swede, the Russ, and the Dane, All pity John Bull — and run off with his gain. But this was the season that I must lament — I first was a whig with an honest intent; Not a Yankee^ among them talked louder or bolder. With his sword by his side, or his gun on his shoulder; Yes, I was a whig, and a whig from my heart. But still was unwilling with Britain to part — 1 thought to oppose her was foolish and vain, I thought she would turn and embrace us again, And make us as happy as happy could be, By renewing the Eera of mild Sixty-Three : And yet, like a cruel, undutiful son, Who evil returns for the good to be done, ^ " Fellow."— Ed. 17S6. 179°] HUGH GAINE'S LIFE 205 Unmerited odium on Britain to throw/ I printed some treason for Philip Freneau, Some damnable poems reflecting on Gage,^ The King and his Council, and writ with such rage, So full of invective, and loaded with spleen. So sneeringly smart, and so hellishly keen. That, at least in the judgment of half our wise men, Alecto herself put the nib to his pen. At this time arose a certain king Sears, ^ Who made it his study to banish our fears : He was, without doubt, a person of merit. Great knowledge, some wit, and abundance of spirit; Could talk like a lawyer, and that without fee. And threatened perdition to all that drank tea. Long sermons did he against Scotchmen prepare,* And drank like a German, and drove away care ; Ah! don't you remember what a vigorous hand he put To drag ofE the great guns, and plague captain Vande- put.* That night f when the Hero (his patience worn out) Put fire to the cannons and folks to the rout, * Captain of the Asia man of war, who cannonaded the city. — Freneau' s note. t August, 1775.— 7.5. 1 " To gain a mere trifle, a shilling or so." — Ed. 1786. ^ General Gage's Soliloquy, and General Gage's Confession, both printed in 1775- '"Under orders from the New York Convention Isaac Sears, in the night of the twenty-fourth of August [1775] removed cannon from the bat- tery of the city. Captain Vandeput of the Asia, a British man-of-war in the harbor of the city, kept up a heavy but ineffective fire on the working party, who succeeded in removing twenty-one eighteen pounders with their carriages. It was feared that a bombardment would follow and families began to retreat into the country." — Bancroft. * This line and the following not in the 1786 edition. 206 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 And drew up his ship with a spring on her cable, And gave us a second confusion of Babel, And (what was more solid than scurrilous language) Poured on us a tempest of round shot and langrage ; Scarce a broadside was ended 'till another began again — By Jove ! it was nothing but Fire away Flanagan ! * Some thought him saluting his Sally's and Nancy's,^ 'Till he drove a huge ball through the roof of Sam Francis ; f The town by his flashes was fairly, enlightened. The women miscarried, the beaux were all frighten'd ; For my part, I hid in a cellar (as sages And Christians were wont in the primitive ages : Thus the Prophet of old that was w^rapt to the sky, Lay snug in a cave 'till the tempest went by, But, as soon as the comforting spirit had spoke, He rose and came out with his mystical cloak) Yet I hardly could boast of a moment of rest, The dogs were a-howling, the town was distrest! But our terrors soon vanished, for suddenly Sears Renewed our lost courage and dried up our tears. Our memories, indeed, must have strangely decayed If we cannot remember what speeches he made. What handsome harangues upon every occasion. How he laughed at the whim of a British invasion! " P — X take 'em (said he) do ye think they will come? " If they should — we have only to beat on our drum, " And run up the flag of American freedom, "And people will muster by millions to bleed 'em! " What freeman need value such blackguards as these! "Let us sink in our channel some Chevaux de frise * A cant phrase among privateers men. — Freneau's note. f A noted Inn-holder in New- York. — lb. " Black Sam." — Ed. i-jSb. ^ " At first we supposed it was only a sham."— .£ First published in Bailey's Pocket Almanac for 1785. The edition of 1809 is used. 1790] DEATH OF COLONEL LAURENS 283 ON THE DEATH OF COLONEL LAURENS 1 Since on her plains this generous chief expired, Whom sages honoured, and whom France admired ; ^ Does Fame no statues to his memory raise. Nor swells one column to record his praise Where her palmetto shades the adjacent deeps, Affection sighs, and Carolina weeps! Thou, who shalt stray where death this chief confines. Revere the patriot, subject of these lines : Not from the dust the muse transcribes his name. And more than marble shall declare his fame Where scenes more glorious his great soul engage, Confest thrice worthy in that closing page When conquering Time to dark oblivion calls. The marble totters, and the column falls. Laurens! thy tomb while kindred hands adorn. Let northern muses, too, inscribe your urn. — Of all, whose names on death's black list appear, 'Published in Ihe Freeman s Journal, October 17, 1787, introduced as follows : " Mr. Bailey, THE subsequent lines were written two or three years after the event that occasioned them, but have never been printed. If you think them in any degree worthy of the memory of the patriotic young officer they attempt to celebrate (and whose death has been so deeply regretted throughout America) I must request you to insert them in your Journal. A. B." The 1788 edition prints the poem with this title : " To the Memory of the brave, accomplished and patriotic Col. John Laurens, Who in the 27th year of his age, was killed in an engagement with a detachment of the British from Charleston, near the river Cambahee, in South Carolina, August 1782." The text follows the edition of 1809. ^In 1780 Laurens was sent by Congress on a mission to France for a loan and supplies, in which he was successful. 284 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 No chief, that perished, claimed more grief sincere, Not one, Columbia, that thy bosom bore, More tears commanded, or deserved them more ! Grief at his tomb shall heave the unwearied sigh. And honour lift the mantle to her eye : Fame through the world his patriot name shall spread. By heroes envied and by monarchs read : Just, generous, brave — to each true heart allied : The Briton's terror, and his country's pride ; For him the tears of war-worn soldiers ran, The friend of freedom, and the friend of man. Then what is death, compared with such a tomb. Where honour fades not, and fair virtues bloom ; When silent grief on every face appears. The tender tribute of a nation's tears; Ah ! what is death, when deeds like his, thus claim The brave man's homage, and immortal fame ! ON THE VICISSITUDES OF THINGS^ " The constant lapse of rolling years Awakes our hopes, provokes our fears Of something yet unknown ; We saw the last year pass away. But who, that lives can safely say. The next shall be his own? " ^ This appeared first as the regular New Year's sheet of the Freeman's Journal, January i, 1785. Its original title was, " New Year's Verses, addressed to the Customers of the Freeman's Journal by the Lad who carries it. " Text from the edition of 1809. 179°] ON THE VICISSITUDES OF THINGS 285 So hundreds talk — and thousands more Descant their moral doctrines o'er ; And when the preaching's done, Each goes his various, wonted way. To labour some, and some to play — So goes the folly on. How swift the vagrant seasons fly ; They're hardly born before they die, Yet in their wild career, Like atoms round the rapid wheel. We seem the same, though changing still. Mere reptiles of a year. Some haste to seek a wealthy bride, Some, rhymes to make on one that died ; And millions curse the day, When first in Hymen's silken bands The parson joined mistaken hands, And bade the bride obey. While sad Amelia vents her sighs. In epitaphs and elegies. For her departed dear. Who would suppose the muffled bell. And mourning gowns, were meant to tell. Her grief will last — a year? In folly's path how many meet — What hosts will live to lie and cheat — How many empty pates May, in this wise, eventful year, In native dignity appear To manage Rising States ! 286 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 How vain to sigh! — the wheel must on And straws are to the whirlpool drawn, With ships of gallant mien — What has been once, may time restore ; What now exists, has been before — Years only change the scene. In endless circles all things move ; Below, about, far off, above, This motion all attain — If Folly's self should flit away. She would return some New year's day, With millions in her train. Sun, moon, and stars, are each a sphere. The earth the same, (or very near)^ Sir Isaac has defined — In circles each coin is cast. And hence our cash departs so fast. Cash — that no charm can bind. From you to us — from us it rolls To comfort other cloudy souls: — If again we make it square,* Perhaps the uneasy guest will stay To cheer us in some wintry day. And smooth the brow of care. * The old Continental. — Freneaiis note. 179°] PEWTER-PLATTER ALLEY 287 PEWTER-PLATTER ALLEY In Philadelphia (As it appeared in January, 1784) From Christ-Church graves, across the way, A dismal, horrid place is found, Where rushing winds exert their sway. And Greenland winter chills the ground : No blossoms there are seen to bloom. No sun pervades the dreary gloom ! The people of that gloomy place In penance for some ancient crime Are held in a too narrow space. Like those beyond the bounds of time. Who darkened still, perceive no day. While seasons waste, and moons decay. Cold as the shade that wraps them round. This icy region prompts our fear ; And he who treads this frozen ground Shall curse the chance that brought him here - The slippery mass predicts his fate, A broken arm, a wounded pate. When August sheds his sultry beam. May Celia never find this place, Nor see, upon the clouded stream, The fading summer in her face ; And may she ne'er discover there The grey that mingles with her hair. '^ Freeman' s Journal, February 23, 1795. 288 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 The watchman sad, whose drowsy call Proclaims the hour forever fled, Avoids this path to Pluto's hall; For who would wish to wake the dead ! — Still let them sleep — it is no crime — They pay no tax to know the time. No coaches here, in glittering pride, Convey their freight to take the air, No gods nor heroes here reside, Nor powdered beau, nor lady fair — All, all to warmer regions flee, And leave the glooms to Towne* and me. ON THE DEATH OF THE REPUBLICAN PATRIOT AND STATESMAN, GENERAL JOSEPH REED Soon to the grave ^ descends each honoured name That raised their country to this blaze ^ of fame : Sages, that planned, and chiefs that led the way To Freedom's temple, all too soon decay, * Benjamin Towne, then Printer of the Evening Post. — Freneau's note. 'First published in th& Freeynan's Journal, March 9, 1785, with the fol- lowing introduction : "On Saturday morning last [March 5] departed this life in the forty- third year of his age, General Joseph Reed, Esq., formerly President of this State ; and on Sunday his remains were interred in the Presbyterian burying ground in Arch Street. His funeral was attended by his excellency the Presi- dent and the Superior Executive Council, the Honourable the Speaker and the General Assembly, the Militia Officers and a greater number of citizens than we've ever seen here on any similar occasion." Text follows the edition of 1809. Reed was one of the leading figjures of the Revolutionary era. As dele- gate to the Continental Congress, aide and secretary to Washington, Adjutant General, volunteer soldier, and Governor of Pennsylvania, he was an active and able man, and his early death was much regretted. I 790] ON THE DEATH OF GENERAL REED 289 Alike submit to one impartial^ doom, Their glories closing in perpetual gloom, Like the pale* splendours of the evening, fade. While night advances, to complete the shade. Reed, 'tis for thee we shed the unpurchased tear. Bend o'er thyStomb, and plant our laurels there: Your acts, your life,^ the noblest pile transcend. And Virtue, patriot Virtue, mourns her friend, Gone to those realms, where worth may claim regard, And gone where virtue meets her best reward. No single art engaged his vigorous* mind. In every scene his active genius shined : Nature in him, in honour to our age. At once composed the soldier and the sage — Firm to his purpose, vigilant, and bold. Detesting traitors, and despising gold. He scorned all bribes from Britain's hostile throne For all his country's wrongs he held^ his own. Reed, rest in peace: for time's impartial page Shall raise the blush on^ this ungrateful age: Long in these climes thy name shall flourish fair, The statesman's pattern, and the poet's care ; Long in these climes' thy memory shall remain. And still new tributes from new ages gain. Fair to the eye that injured honour rise — Nor traitors triumph while the patriot dies. The following are the variations in the 1786 edition : ^ Swift to the dust. 2 These heights. * Manly. ' Unalter'd. ' Were thrice. * Dim. ^ Blast the wrongs of. * Thy own brave deeds. " On these plains. 290 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 A RENEGADO EPISTLE ^ To the Independent Americans We Tories, who lately were frightened away, When you marched into York all in battle array, Dear Whigs, in our exile have somewhat to say. From the clime of New Scotland we wish you to know We still are in being — mere spectres of woe, Our dignity high, but our spirits are low. Great people we are, and are called the king's friends; But on friendships like these what advantage attends? We may stay and be starved ^ when we've answered his ends! The Indians themselves, whom no treaties can bind, We have reason to think are perversely inclined — And where we have friends is not easy to find. From the day we arrived on this desolate shore We still have been wishing to see you once more. And your freedom enjoy, now the danger is o'er. Although we be-rebelled you up hill and down. It was all for your good — and to honour a crown Whose splendours have spoiled better eyes than our own. That traitors we were, is no more than our due. And so may remain for a century through. Unless we return, and be tutored by you. 'Text from the edition of 1809. First published in the FreemarCs Journal, March 30, 1785, under the title, "A New York Tory's Epistle.'' '^ "We may starve and be damn'd." — Ed. iyS6. 1790] A RENEGADO EPISTLE 291 Although with the dregs of the world we are classed, We hope your resentment will soften at last, Now your toils are repaid, and our triumphs are past. When a matter is done, 'tis a folly to fret — But your market-day mornings we cannot forget. With your coaches to lend, and your horses to let. Your dinners of beef, and your breakfasts of toast! But we have no longer such blessings to boast. No cattle to steal, and no turkies to roast. Such enjoyments as these, we must tell you with pain, 'Tis odds we shall only be wishing in vain Unless we return, and be brothers again. We burnt up your mills and your meetings, 'tis true. And many bold fellows we crippled and slew — (Aye! we were the boys that had something to do!) Old Huddy^ we hung on the Neversink shore — But, Sirs, had we hung up a thousand men more. They had all been avenged in the torments we bore. When Asgill to Jersey you foolishly fetched. And each of us feared that his neck would be stretched, When you were be-rebelled, and we were be-wretched. In the book of destruction it seems to be written The Tories must still be dependent on Britain — The worst of dependence that ever was hit on^ Now their work is concluded — that pitiful jobb — They send over convicts to strengthen our mob — And so we do nothing but snivel and sob. ^See note to poem " On Gen. Robertson's Proclamation," Vol. II, p. 162. J 292 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 The worst of all countries has fallen to our share, Where winter and famine provoke our despair, And fogs are for ever obscuring the air. Although there be nothing but sea dogs to feed on, Our friend jemmy Rivington made it an Eden — But, alas! he had nothing but lies to proceed on. Deceived we were all by his damnable schemes — When he coloured it over with gardens and streams. And grottoes and groves, and the rest of his dreams^ Our heads were so turned by that conjuror's spell. We swallowed the lies he was ordered to tell — But his " happy retreats " were the visions of hell. We feel so enraged we could rip up his weazon, When we think of the soil he described with its trees on, And the plenty that reigned, and the charms of each season. Like a parson that tells of the joys of the blest To a man to be hanged — he himself thought it best To remain where he was, in his haven of rest. , Since he helped us away by the means of his types. His precepts should only have lighted our pipes, His example was rather to honour your stripes. Now, if we return, as we're bone of your bone. We'll renounce all allegiance to George and his throne And be the best subjects that ever were known. In a ship, you have seen (where the duty is hard) The cook and the scullion may claim some regard. Though it takes a good fellow to brace the main yard. 1790] THE AMERICAN SIBERIA 293 Howe'er you despise us, because you are free, The world's at a loss for such people as we. Who can pillage on land, and can plunder at sea. So long for our rations they keep us in waiting — The Lords and the Commons, perhaps, are debating If Tories can live without drinking or eating. So we think it is better to see you, by far — And have hinted our meaning to governor Parr * — The worst that can happen is — feathers and tar. Nova-Scotia, Feb. 178^. THE AMERICAN SIBERIA^ When Jove from darkness smote the sun. And Nature earth from chaos won, One part she left a barren waste By stormy seas and fogs embraced. Jove saw her vile neglect, and cried, " What madness did your fancy guide — Why have you left so large a space With winter brooding o'er its face? No trees of stately growth ascend. Eternal fogs their wings expand — My favorite — man — I placed not there, But spirits of a darker sphere. * Then Governor of Nova-Scotia. — Freneau's note. ^ Text follows the edition of i8og. 294 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 If Nature's self neglects her trade What strange confusion will be made : Such climes as these I doomed to fall On Saturn's cold unsocial ball : But such a blemish, here, to see — How can it else but anger me? Where chilling winds forever freeze, What fool will fix on lands like these? " Nature, abashed, thus made reply : " When earth I formed, I don't deny, Some parts I portioned out for pain. Hard storms, dull skies, and — little gain. Mankind are formed with different souls : Some will be suited near the poles. Some pleased beneath the scorching line. And some. New Scotland, will be thine. Yet, in due time, my plastic hand Shall mould it o'er, if you command ; By you I act — if you stand still The world comes tumbling down the hill! " Untouched — (said Jove) — remain the place! In days to come I'll form a race. Born to betray their country's cause, And aid an alien monarch's laws. When traitors to their country die, To lands, like this, their phantoms fly ; But when the brave by death decay The mind explores a different way. 179°] EPISTLE TO SYLVIUS 295 Then, Nature, hold your aiding hand — Let fogs and tempests chill the land ; While this degenerate work of thine To knaves and knapsacks I resign. EPISTLE TO SYLVIUS^ On the Folly of Writing Poetry Of all the fools that haunt our coast The scribbling tribe I pity most : Their's is a standing scene of woes, And their's no prospect of repose. Then, Sylvius, why this eager claim To light your torch at Clio's flame? To few she shews sincere regard. And none, from her, should hope reward. A garret high, dark dismal room. Is still the pensive poet's doom : Hopes raised to heaven must be their lot. Yet bear the curse, to be forgot. Hourly they deal with Grecian Jove, And draw their bills on banks above : Yet stand abashed, with all their fire. When brought to face some country 'squire. ^ On Nov. 24, 1785, Freneau sailed from Middletown Point as Master of the sloop Monmouth bound for southern ports. This lyric, first published in the edition of 1788, seems to have been his valedictory to the muse for a season. His conflict with Oswald and other critics had much embittered him. The text is from the edition of iSoq. 296 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 To mend the world, is still their aim : The world, alas ! remains the same. And so must stand to every age, Proof to the morals of the page ! The knave that keeps a tippling inn, The red-nosed boy that deals out gin, If aided by some paltry skill May both be statesmen when they will. The man that mends a beggar's shoes. The quack that heals your negro's bruise, The wretch that turns a cutler's stone. Have wages they can call their own : The head, that plods in trade's domains, Gets something to reward its pains; But Wit — that does the world beguile. Takes for its pay — an empty smile! Yet each presumes his works will rise. And gain a name that never dies ; From earth, and cold oblivion freed, Immortal, in the poets' creed ! Can Reason in that bosom reign Which fondly feeds a hope so vain, When every age that passes by Beholds a crowd of poets die ! Poor Sappho's fate shall Milton know — His scenes of grief and tales of woe No honours, that all Europe gave. No merit — shall from ruin save. 179°] EPISTLE TO SYLVIUS 297 To all that write and all that read Fate shall, with hasty step, succeed ! Even Shakespeare's page, his mirth, his tears May sink beneath this weight of years. Old Spenser's doom shall. Pope, be thine The music of each moving line Scarce bribes an age or two to stay, Admire your strain — then flit away. The people of old Chaucer's times Were once in raptures with his rhymes. But Time — that over verse prevails. To other ears tells other tales. Why then so sad, dear rhyming friends — One common fate on both attends, The bards that sooth the statesman's ear. And him — who finds no audience there. Mere structures formed of common earth, Not they from heaven derive their birth. Or why through life, like vagrants, pass To mingle with the mouldering mass? — Of all the souls, from Jove that came To animate this mortal frame, Of all the myriads, on the wing, How few can taste the Muse's spring ! Sejanus, of mercantile skill, Without whose aid the world stands still. And by whose wonder-working play The sun goes round — (his flatterers say) 298 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Sejanus has in house declared " These States, as yet, can boast no bard, And all the sing-song of our clinle Is merely nonsense, fringed with rhyme." With such a bold, conceited air When such assume the critic's chair. Low in the dust is genius laid. The muses with the man in trade. Then, Sylvius, come — let you and I On Neptune's aid, once more rely : Perhaps the muse may still impart Her balm to ease the aching heart. Though cold might chill and storms dismay, Yet Zoilus will be far away : With us at least, depart and share No garret — but resentment there. THE DEPARTURE 1 1785 From Hudson's cold, congealing streams As winter comes, I take my way Where other suns prompt other dreams, And shades, less willing to decay, Beget new raptures in the heart, Bid spleen's dejective crew depart. And wake the sprightly lay. ' This poem was first published in the Freemaiis Journal, April 18, 1787, with a note " Written at leaving Sandy Hook on a voyage to the West Indies." It is dated Nov. 26, 1785 ; it was, therefore, written at sea. It was published in the 1788 edition, which the text follows, and omitted from the i8og edition. 179°] THE DEPARTURE 299 Good-natur'd Neptune, now so mild, Like rage asleep, or madness chain'd. By dreams amus'd or love beguil'd, Sleep on 'till we our port have gain'd. The gentle breeze that curls the deep. Shall paint a finer dream on sleep ! — Ye nymphs, that haunt his grottoes low, Where sea green trees on coral grow, No tumults make Lest he should wake, And thus the passing shade betray The sails that o'er his waters stray. Sunk is the sun from yonder hill. The noisy day is past; The breeze decays, and all is still, As all shall be at last ; The murmuring on the distant shore. The dying wave is all I hear. The yellow fields now disappear, No painted butterflies are near, And laughing folly plagues no more. The woods that deck yon' fading waste, That every wanton gale embrac'd, ' Ere summer yet made haste to fly ; How smit with frost the pride of June ! How lost to me ! how very soon The fairy prospects die ! Condemn'd to bend to winter's stroke, Low in the dust the embowering oak Has bid the fading leaf descend. Their short liv'd verdure at an end ; 300 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 How desolate the forests seem, Beneath whose shade The enamour'd maid Was once so fond to dream. What now is left of all that won The eye of mirth while summer stay'd — The birds that sported in the sun, The sport is past, the song is done ; And nature's naked forms declare, The rifled groves, the vallies bare. Persuasively, tho' silent, tell. That at the best they were but drest Sad mourners for the funeral bell ! Now while I spread the venturous sail To catch the breeze from yonder hill. Say, what does all this folly mean? Why grieve to pass the wat'ry scene? Is fortitude to heaven confin'd? — No — planted also in the mind. She smooths the ocean when she will. But life is pain — what ills must try. What malice dark and calumny, Indifference, with her careless eye. And slander, with her tale begun ; Bold ignorance, with forward air, And cowardice, that has no share In honours gain'd, or trophies won. To these succeed, (and these are few Of nature's dark, unseemly crew) Unsocial pride, and cold disgust, Servility, that licks the dust ; Those harpies that disgrace the mind ; 1790] A NEWSMAN'S ADDRESS 301 Unknown to haunt the human breast When pleasure her first garden dress'd — But vanish'd is the shade so gay, And lost in gloom the summer day That charm'd the soul to rest. What season shall restore that scene When all was calm and all serene, And happiness no empty sound, The golden age, that pleas'd so well? — The Mind that made it shall not tell To those on life's uncertain road ; Where lost in folly's idle round. And seeking what shall ne'er be found We press to one abode. A NEWSMAN'S ADDRESS ^ Old Eighty-Five discharg'd and gone, Another year comes hastening on To quit us in its turn : With outspread wings and running glass Thus Time's deluding seasons pass. And leave mankind to mourn. But strains like this add grief to grief ; — We are the lads that give relief With sprightly wit and merry lay : Our various page to all imparts Amusement fit for social hearts. And drives the monster, spleen, away. ' Freneau arrived in Charleston Dec. 8, and remained there until Jan. 23, when he cleared for Sunbury. On Jan. ist, he wrote the above verses for the carriers of the Charleston Columbian Herald. They were republished in the editions of 1788 and 1795, which later edition the text follows. 302 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Abroad our leaves of knowledge fly, And twice a week they live and die ; Short seasons of repose ! Fair to your view our toils display The monarch's aim, what patriots say, Or sons of art disclose : Whate'er the barque of commerce brings From sister States, or foreign kings. No atom we conceal: All Europe's prints we hourly drain, All Asia's news our leaves contain. And round our world we deal. If falsehoods sometimes prompt your fears. And horrid news from proud Algiers, That gives our tars such pain ; Remember all must have their share, And all the world was made for care. The monarch and the swain. If British isles (that once were free, In Indian seas, to you and me) All entrance still restrain, Why let them starve with all their host When British pride gives up the ghost. And courts our aid in vain. We fondly hope some future year Will all our clouded prospects clear. And commerce stretch her wings ; New tracks of trade new wealth disclose. While round the globe our standard goes In spite of growling kings. 179°] LITERARY IMPORTATION 303 Materials thus together drawn To tell you how the world goes on May surely claim regard ; One simple word we mean to say, This is our jovial New Year's da_v, And now, our toils reward. LITERARY IMPORTATION 1 However we wrangled with Britain awhile We think of her now in a different stile, And many fine things we receive from her isle ; Among all the rest, Some demon possessed Our dealers in knowledge and sellers of sense To have a good bishop imported from thence. The words of Sam Chandler* were thought to be vain, When he argued so often and proved it so plain " That Satan must flourish till bishops should reign: " Though he went to the wall With his project and all. Another bold Sammy f, in bishop's array, Has got something more than his pains for his pay. It seems we had spirit to humble a throne. Have genius for science inferior to none, *Who laboured for the establishment of an American Episcopacy, pre- viously to the revolutionary war." — FreneatCs note. t Bishop Samuel Seabury, of Connecticut. — lb. ' First pubUshed, as far as can be learned, in the 1788 edition, and dated Charleston, S. C, 1786. The text is taken from the edition of 1809. 304 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 But hardly encourage a plant of our own : If a college be planned, 'Tis all at a stand 'Till to Europe we send at a shameful expense, To send us a book-worm to teach us some sense. Can we never be thought to have learning or grace Unless it be brought from that horrible^ place Where tyranny reigns with her impudent face ; And popes and pretenders, And sly faith-defenders Have ever been hostile to reason and wit. Enslaving a world that shall conquer them yet. 'Tis a folly to fret at the picture I draw : And I say what was said by a Doctor Magraw ; X " If they give us their Bishops, they'll give us their law." How that will agree With such people as we, Let us leave to the learned to reflect on awhile. And say what they think in a handsomer stile. X A noted practitioner in physic, formerly of N. York. — PreneaiCs note, Ed. jySS. 1 " Damnable "—Ed. 17 S8. 179°] THE ENGLISHMAN'S COMPLAINT 305 THE ENGLISHMAN'S COMPLAINT 1 In Carolina Arriving from Britain with cargo so nice Once more have I touched at these regions of rice ! Dear Ashley, with pleasure thy stream I review : But how changed are these plains that we wished to subdue. If through the wild woods he extended his reign, And death and the hangman were both in his train, Cornwallis no longer disturbs your repose, His lordship is dead or at least in a doze. By Sullivan's island how quiet we pass ; Fort Johnson no longer salutes us, alas ! — The season has been you did nothing but mourn, But now you will laugh at a Briton's return ! Instead of gay soldiers that walked the parade. Here is nothing but draymen and people in trade ; Instead of our navy that thundered around. Here is nothing but ships without guns to be found. Instead of Lord Rawdon and Nesbit Balfour, Whose names and whose notions you cannot endure. But whom in their glory you could not forget When puffed by the froth of the Royal Gazette : Instead of those tyrants, who homewards have flown, This country is ruled by a race of its own. Whom once we could laugh at — but now we must say Seem rising to be in a handsomer way. 'This first appeared in the 1788 edition. The date of composition is indi- cated by the last line. The British evacuated the city in 1782. The edition of 1809 has been followed. 306 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 To US and our island eternally foes, How tedious you are in forgetting your woes, Your plundered plantations you still will remember. Although we have left you — three years last December ! THE WILD HONEY SUCKLE ^ Fair flower, that dost so comely grow, Hid in this silent, dull retreat, Untouched thy honied blossoms blow. Unseen thy little branches greet: No roving foot shall crush thee here. No busy hand provoke a tear. By Nature's self in white arrayed. She bade thee shun the vulgar eye, And planted here the guardian shade. And sent soft waters murmuring by ; Thus quietly thy summer goes, Thy days declining to repose. Smit with those charms, that must decay, I grieve to see your future doom ; They died — nor were those flowers more gay, The fl owe rs that did in Eden bloom ; Unpitying frosts, and Autumn's power Shall leave no vestige of this flower. ' Freneau doubtless wrote this poem in Charleston, S. C, in July, 1786. It appeared first|in the Freeman' s Journal, August 2, 1 7S6, and was republished in the edition of 1788, and in the later editions, almost without change. The poet probably refers to the Rhododendron Viscosum, or as some call it the Azalia viscosun since it is the only flower popularly known as the wild honey- suckle that is both white and fragrant. According to Chapman's Southern Flora, it flowers in the latitude of Charleston in July and August. The text is from the edition of 1809. 179°] UNITARIAN THEOLOGY 307 From morning suns and evening dews At first thy little being came : If nothing once, you nothing lose, For when you die you are the same ; The space between, is but an hour, The frail duration of a flower. ON A BOOK CALLED UNITARIAN THEOLOGY » In this choice work, with wisdom penned, we find The noblest system to reform mankind. Bold truths confirmed, that bigots have denied. By most perverted, and which some deride. Here, truths divine in easy language flow. Truths long concealed, that now all climes shall know Here, like the blaze of our material sun. Enlightened Reason proves, that God is One — As that, concentered in itself, a sphere, Illumes all Nature with its radiance here. Bids towards itself all trees and plants aspire, Awakes the winds, impels the seeds of fire. And still subservient to the Almighty plan. Warms into life the changeful race of man ; So — like that sun — in heaven's bright realms we trace One Power of Love, that fills unbounded space. Existing always by no borrowed aid. Before all worlds — eternal, and not made — To That indebted, stars and comets burn, ' This was published in the Freeman's Journal, Oct. 4, 1 786, under the title "On the Honourable Emanuel Swedenborg's Universal Theology." A column advertisement of the book appeared in the Journal Oct. 25. The poem was reprinted in the 1788 collection and in the later edition of i8og, which the text follows. 308 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Owe their swift movements, and to That return ! Prime source of wisdom, all-contriving mind. First spring of Reason, that this globe designed; Parent of order, whose unwearied hand Upholds the fabric that his wisdom planned. And, its due course assigned to every sphere. Revolves the seasons, and sustains the year! — Pure light of Truth ! where'er thy splendours shine. Thou art the image of the power divine ; Nought else, in life, that full resemblance bears. No sun, that lights us through our circling years, No stars, that through yon' charming azure stray. No moon, that glads us with her evening ray. No seas, that o'er their gloomy caverns flow, No forms beyond us, and no shapes below ! Then slight — ah slight not, this instructive page. For the mean follies of a dreaming age : Here to the truth, by Reason's aid aspire. Nor some dull preacher of romance admire ; See One, Sole God, in these convincing lines. Beneath whose view perpetual day-light shines; At whose command all worlds their circuits run, And night, retiring, dies before the sun ! Here, Man no more disgraced by Time appears. Lost in dull slumbers through ten thousand years ; Plunged in that gulph, whose dark unfathomed wave Men of all ages to perdition gave ; An empty dream, or still more empty shade. The substance vanished, and the form decayed : — Here Reason proves, that when this life decays. Instant, new life in the warm bosom plays, As that expiring, still its course repairs Through endless ages, and unceasing years. 179°] TO ZOILUS 309 Where parted souls with kindred spirits meet, Wrapt to the bloom of beauty all complete ; In that celestial, vast, unclouded sphere. Nought there exists but has its image here ! All there is Mind ! — That Intellectual Flame, From whose vast stores all human genius came. In which all Nature forms on Reason's plan — Flows to this abject world, and beams on Man ! TO ZOILUS^ [A Severe Critic] Six sheets compos'd, struck off, and dry The work may please the world (thought I) — If some impell'd by spleen or spite, Refuse to read, then let them write : I too, with them, shall have my turn, And give advice — to tear or burn. Now from the binder's, hurried home. In neat array my leaves are come : Alas, alas! is this my all? The volume is so light and small. That, aim to save it as I can, 'Twill fly before Myrtilla's fan. ' This was first published in tlie Freeman's Journal, Oct 11, 1786, thougli it undoubtedly was written before tlie poet left Philadelphia. It was repub- lished in the 1788 edition under the title "The Pamphleteer and the Critic." The text follows the 1795 edition. 310 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Why did I no precautions use? To curb these frolics of the Muse ? Ah ! why did I invoke the nine To aid these humble toils of mine — That now forebode through every page The witling's sneer, the critic's rage. Did I, for this, so often rise Before the sun illum'd the skies, And near my Hudson's mountain stream Invoke the Muses' morning dream. And scorn the winds that blew so cool ! I did — and I was more the fool. Yet slender tho' the book, and small. And harmless, take it all in all, I see a monstrous wight appear, A quill suspended from his ear ; Its fate depends on his decree. And what he says must sacred be ! A brute of such terrific mien At wild Sanduski ne'er was seen. And in the dark Kentuckey groves No beast, like this, for plunder roves, Nor dwells in Britain's lowering clime A reptile, so severe on rhyme. The monster comes, severe and slow. His eyes with arrowy lightnings glow, Takes up the book, surveys it o'er, Exclaims, " damn'd stuff! " — but says no more: The book is damn'd by his decree. And what he says must gospel be ! 179°] TO ZOILUS 311 But was there nothing to his taste? — Was all my work a barren waste — Was not one bright idea sown, And not one image of my own? — Its doom was just, if this be true : But Zoilus shall be sweated too. Give me a cane of mighty length, A staff proportion'd to my strength. Like that, by whose destructive aid The man of Gath his conquests made ; Like that, which once on Etna's shore The shepherd of the mountain bore : For wit traduc'd at such a rate To other worlds I'll send him, straight. Where all the past shall nothing seem. Or just be imag'd, like a dream ; Where new vexations are design'd, No dull quietus for the mind ! Arm'd with a staff of such a size Who would not smite this man of lies : Here, scribbler, help me ! seize that pen With which he blasts all rhyming men : His goose-quill must not with him go To persecute the bards below. — How vast a change an hour may bring ! How abject lies this snarling thing I No longer wit to him shall bow. To him the world is nothing now ; And all he writ, and all he read Is, with himself, in silence laid ! 312 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Dead tho' he be — (not sent to rest) No keen remorse torments my breast : Yet, something in me seems to tell I might have let him live, as well ; — 'Twas his to snarl, and growl, and grin, And life had, else, a burthen been. ON THE LEGISLATURE OF GREAT-BRITAIN PROHIBITING THE SALE, IN LONDON, OF Doctor David Ramsay's History of the Revolutionary war in South Carolina' Some bold bully Dawson, expert in abusing. Having passed all his life in the practice of bruising ; At last, when he thinks to reform and repent. And wishes his days had been soberly spent. Though a course of contrition in earnest begins. He scarcely can bear to be told of his sins. So the British, worn out with their wars in the west (Where burning and murder their prowess confessed ) When, at last, they agreed 'twas in vain to contend (For the days of their thieving were come to an end) They hired some historians to scribble and flatter. And foolishly thought they could hush up the matter. But Ramsay^ arose, and with Truth on his side, Has told to the world what they laboured to hide ; With his pen of dissection, and pointed with steel. If they ne'er before felt he has taught them to feel, ^ Freeman' s Journal, Oct. 11, dated Philadelphia, Oct. 9. The text fol- lows the edition of i8og. ''David Ramsay's "History of the Revolution in South Carolina," was published at Trenton, New Jersey, in 1785. 1790] DEATH SONG OF A CHEROKEE INDIAN 313 Themselves and their projects has truly defined, And dragged them to blush at the bar of mankind. As the author, his friends, and the world might expect. They find that the work has a damning effect — In reply to his Facts they abuse him and rail, And prompted by malice, prohibit the sale. But, we trust, their chastisement is only begun ; Thirteen are the States — and he writes but of one ; Ere the twelve that are silent their story have told, The king will run mad, and the book will be sold. THE DEATH SONG OF A CHEROKEE INDIAN ^ The sun sets in night, and the stars shun the day. But glory remains when their lights fade away. Begin, ye tormentors : your threats are in vain For the son of Alknomock can never complain. ' The first trace I can find of this poem is in the initial number of Matthew Carey's American Museum, Jan. i, 1787, where it is placed among the selected poetry and assigned to P. Freneau. This testimony of Carey's as to its gen- uineness carries with it considerable weight. Knapp, who in 1829 reviewed the poem as Freneau's, doubtless had before him a copy of the Museum. The poem, however, is not included in any of the poet's collections and I can find no earlier newspaper appearance, although my search has not been exhaustive. The authenticity of a poem suspected to be Freneau's may always be gravely doubted if it is not found to be included in his collected works, for he hoarded his poetic product, especially in his earlier period, with miserly care. The poem appeared in 1806 among the poems of Mrs. John Hunter with the title " The Death Song, written for and adapted to, an original Indian air." Several of Mrs. Hunter's best poems had been long in circulation before she was induced to collect them. In 1822 Maria Edgeworth introduced the poem into her book " Rosamond," ascribing it to her. She added the following note : " The idea of this ballad was suggested several years ago by hearing a gentleman who resided many years among the tribe called the Cherokees, sing a wild air, which he assured me was customary for these people to chant with a barbarous jargon implying contempt for their enemies in the moments of torture and death. I have endeavored to give something of the characteristic spirit and sentiment of those brave savages." 314 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Remember the woods, where in ambush he lay, And the scalps which he bore from your nation away ! Why do ye delay? — 'till I shrink from my pain? Know the son of Alknomock can never complain. Remember the arrows he shot from his bow Remember your chiefs by his hatchet laid low The flame rises high, you exult in my pain? Know the son of Alknomock will never complain. I go to the land where my father is gone : His ghost shall rejoice in the fame of his son Death comes like a friend, he relieves me from pain And thy son, O Alknomock, has scorned to complain. STANZAS Written at the foot of Monte Souffriere, near the Town of Basseterre, Guadaloupe ^ These Indian isles, so green and gay In summer seas by nature placed — Art hardly told us where they lay, 'Till tyranny their charms defaced : Ambition here her efforts made, And avarice rifled every shade. 'Published in the Freeman's Journal oi Jan. 31, 1787, with the introduc- tion " The following verses, wrote by Mr. Freneau are subjoined to a short and accurate account of the West Indies in the printer's Pocket Almanac for the present year." The title of the poem suffered many variations in later editions. In the 1788 edition, where it was reprinted from the Journal, it was entitled " Stanzas written In a blank leaf of Burke's History of the West India Islands," and it was signed " Pennsylvania, 1786." In the 1795 edition it was entitled " Caribbeana," and in the edition of 1809, the text of which I have followed, it received the title above given. The poem was carefully revised for the edition of 1795. 179°] STANZAS 315 Their genius wept, his sons to see By foreign arms untimely fall, And some to distant climates flee. Where later ruin met them all : He saw his sylvan offspring bleed, That envious natures might succeed. The Chief, who first o'er untried waves To these fair islands found his way. Departing, left a race of slaves, Cortez, your mandate to obey. And these again, if fame says true, To extirpate the vulgar crew. No more to Indian coasts confined. The Patron, thus, indulged his grief; And to regret his heart resigned, To see some proud European chief. Pursue the harmless Indian race. Torn by his dogs in every chace.^ Ah, what a change ! the ambient deep No longer hears the lover's sigh ; But wretches meet, to wail and weep The loss of their dear liberty : Unfeeling hearts possess these isles, Man frowns — and only nature smiles. Proud of the vast extended shores The haughty Spaniard calls his own, 1 " While he to tears his heart resign'd With pain he saw the falling leaf ; ' And thus (he cry'd) our reign must end, We, like the leaves, must now descend.' " Ed. 1788. 3l6 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 His selfish heart restrains his stores, To other climes but scarcely known : ^ His Cuba lies a wilderness, Where slavery digs what slaves possess. Jamaica's sweet, romantic vales In vain with golden harvests teem ; Her endless spring, her fragrant gales More than Elysian magic seem : ^ Yet what the soil profusely gave Is there denied the toiling slave. Fantastic joy and fond belief Through life support the galling chain ; Hope's airy prospects banish griefs. And bring his native lands again : His native groves a heaven display, The funeral is the jocund day. For man oppressed and made so base. In vain from Jove fair virtue fell ; Distress be-glooms the toiling race, They have no motive to excel : In death alone their miseries end, The tyrant's dread — is their best friend. \ \ How great their praise let truth declare, "- - 1 Who touched with honour's sacred flame. Bade freedom to some coasts repair To urge the slave's neglected claim; And scorning interest's swinish plan. Gave to mankind the rights of man. ^ ' ' No other world may share those stores To other worlds so little known." Ed. ij88. ^ " Did more to me than magic seem. ' ' lb. 1790] ON THE CREW OF A CERTAIN VESSEL 317 Ascending there, may freedom's sun In all his force serenely clear, A long, unclouded circuit run. Till little tyrants disappear; And a new race, not bought or sold, Rise from the ashes of the old. ON THE CREW OF A CERTAIN VESSEL ' Several of whom happened to be of simUar names to Celebrated Foreign Clergymen In life's unsettled, odd career What changes every day appear To please or plague the eye : A goodly brotherhood of priests Are here transformed to swearing beasts Who heaven and hell defy. Here Bonner, bruised with many a knock, Has changed his surplice for a frock ; Old Erskine swabs the decks. And Watts, who once such pleasure took In writing Hymns — here, turned a cook. Sinners no longer vex. Here Burnet, Tillotson, and Blair, With Jemmy Hervey, curse and swear. Here Cudworth mixes grog ; Pearson the crew to dinner hails, A graceless Sherlock trims the sails. And Bunyan heaves the log. ^The index to the edition of 1795 instead of "vessel" gives "ship of war." The text follows the edition of 1809. 3l8 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 THE BERMUDA ISLANDS^ ' ' Bermuda, walled with rocks, who does not know, That happy island, where huge lemons grow," &c. Waller's Battle of the Summer Islands. These islands fair with many a grove are crowned, With cedars tall, gay hills, and verdant vales. But dangerous rocks on every side is found, Fatal to him who unsuspecting sails. The gay Palmetto shades the adjacent wave : Blue, ocean water near the lime-tree breaks ! — I leave the scene ! — this stormy quarter leave. And rove awhile by Harrington's sweet lake. In every vale fair woodland nymphs are seen In bloom of youth, to mourn some absent love. Who, wandering far on Neptune's rude domain, Heaves the fond sigh at every new remove. From hill to hill I see Amanda stray, Searching, with anxious view, the encircling main, To espy the sail, so long, so far away. Rise from the waves, and bless her sight again. 'During several weeks in 1778 Freneau resided in Bermuda. While there he seems to have been greatly impressed by an instance of inconstancy. He has in several prose sketches, notably in " Light Summer Reading," 1788, and in the following series of poems, composed at different times, described the incident. There is a tradition that Freneau spent several weeks in the family of the Governor of Bermuda and that it was the daughter of this official who was the unfortunate Amanda. Some traditions have mentioned Freneau him- self as the lover. The text is from the edition of 1809. 1790] FLORIO TO AMANDA 319 Now, on some rock, with loose, dishevelled hair, Near dashing waves, the sorrowing beauty stands, Hoping that each approaching barque may bear Homeward the wandering youth from foreign lands. Oh ! may no gales such faithful loves destroy. No hidden rock to Hymen fatal prove : And thou, fond swain, thy nicest art employ Once more on these sweet isles to meet your love. When verging to the height of thirty-two. And east or west you guide the dashy prow ; Then fear by night the dangers of this shore. Nature's wild garden, placed in sixty-four.* Here many a merchant his lost freight bemoans. And many a gallant ship has laid her bones. FLORIO TO AMANDA^ Lamp of the pilot's hope! the wanderer's dream, Far glimmering o'er the wave, we saw thy beam : Forced from your aid by cold December's gale As near your isle we reefed the wearied sail : From bar to bar, from cape to cape I roam. From you still absent, still too far from home. — What shall repay me for these nights of pain. And weeks of absence on this restless main, * Lat. 32 deg. 20 min. N. — Long. 63.40 W. — and about 780 miles East of the coast of South Carolina. — Freneau's note. ^On Jan. 20, 1789, Freneau was at Castle Ireland, Bermuda, where eleven years before he had passed five delightful weeks in the family of the English Governor. The above lines were written on the tempestuous return voyage, doubtless inspired by her who soon afterward became his wife. The text fol- lows the i8og version. 320 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Where every dream recalls that charming shade, Where once, Amanda, once with you I strayed, And fondly talked, and counted every tree. And minutes, ages, when removed from thee. What sad mistake this wandering fancy drew To quit my natives shores, the woods, and You, When safely anchored on that winding stream. Where you were all my care, and all my theme : There, pensive, loitering, still from day to day. The pilot wondered at such strange delay. Musing, beheld the northern winds prevail. Nor once surmised that Love detained the sail. Blest be the man, who, fear beneath him cast. From his firm decks first reared the tapering mast; And catching life and motion from the breeze. Stretched his broad canvas o'er a waste of seas ; And taught some swain, whom absence doomed to mourn His distant fair one — taught a quick return : He, homeward borne by favouring gales, might find Remembrance welcome to his anxious mind. And grateful vows, and generous thanks might pay To Him, who filled the sail, and smoothed the way. To me, indeed ! the heavens less favouring prove : Each day, returning, finds a new remove — Sorrowing, I spread the sail, while slowly creeps The weary vessel o'er a length of deeps ; Her northern course no favouring breeze befriends. Hail, storm, and lightning, on her path attends : Here, wintry suns their shrouded light restrain, Stars dimly glow, and boding birds complain ; Here, boisterous gales the rapid Gulph controul. Tremendous breakers near our Argo roll ; Here cloudy, sullen Hatteras, restless, raves Scorns all repose, and swells his weight of waves: 179°] PHILANDER: OR THE EMIGRANT 32 I Here, drowned so late, sad cause of many a tear, Amyntor floats upon his watery bier ; By bursting seas to horrid distance tossed, Thou, Palinurus, in these depths wert lost, When, torn by waves, and conquered by the blast, Art strove in vain, and ruin seized each mast. Now, while the winds their wonted aid deny, For other ports, from day to day, we try Strive, all we can, to gain the unwilling shore. Dream still of you — the faithful chart explore ; See other groves, in happier climates placed Untouched their bloom, and not one flower defaced. Did Nature, there, a heaven of pleasure shew, Could they be welcome, if not shared with you? — Lost are my toils — my longing hopes are vain: Yet, 'midst these ills, permit me to complain, And half regret, that, finding fortune fail, I left your cottage — to direct the sail : Unmoved, amidst this elemental fray. Let me, once more, the muses' art essay, Once more — amidst these scenes of Nature's strife. Catch at her forms and mould them into life ; By Fancy's aid, to unseen coasts repair. And fondly dwell on absent beauty there. PHILANDER: OR THE EMIGRANT ^ While lost so long to his Arcadian shade. Careless of fortune and of fame he stray'd. Philander to a barbarous region came And found a partner in a colder shade. Fair as Amanda ; and perhaps might claim ' The text follows the edition of 1795- 322 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 With her the impassion'd soul, and friendship's holy flame; For sprightly loves upon her bosom play'd, And youth was in her blush, and every shepherd said She was a modest and accomplish'd dame. What have I done, (the wandering shepherd cry'd) Thus to be banish'd from a face so fair, (For now the frosts had spoil'd the daisies' pride, And he once more for roving did prepare) Ah, what have I to do with swelling seas Who once could pipe upon the hollow reed? — I take no joy in such rude scenes as these. Nor look with pleasure on the vagrant weed That gulphy streams from rugged caverns bore. Which floats thro' every clime, and never finds a shore ! But other fields and other flowers were mine, 'Till wild disorder drove me from the plain. And the black dogs of war were seen to join. Howl o'er the soil, and dispossess the swain : Why must I leave these climes of frost and snow? — Were it not better in these glooms to stay. And, while on high the autumnal tempests blow, Let others o'er the wild seas take their way, And I with my Livinia's tresses play? — Ah, no, no, no ! the imperious wave demands That I must leave these shores, and lose these lands And southward to the high equator stray : But Fancy now has lost her vernal hue ; See Nature in her wintry garb array'd — And where is that fine dream which once she drew While yet by Cambria's stream she fondly play'd ! Lavinia heard his long complaint, and said, Wouldst thou, for me, detain the expecting sail — ? Go, wanderer, go — the trees have lost their shade. 1790] PHILANDER: OR THE EMIGRANT 323 And my gay flowers are blasted by the gale, And the bright stream is chill'd that wandered thro' the vale: Ah, why, Philander, do you sigh, so sad ! Why all this change in such a jovial lad? Smooth seas shall be your guard, and, free from harms, Restore you, safely, to Lavinia's arms! Or should the eastern tempest rend your sail. Trust me, dear shepherd, should the seas prevail. And you be laid in Neptune's cradle low, The winds will bring me back the woeful tale When I must to the long shore weeping go. And while I see the ruffian surge aspire, Some consolation will it be to know No pain or anguish can afflict the head The limbs or stomach, when the heart is dead. Thus long discoursing, on the bank they stood, The heavy burthen'd barque at anchor lay. While the broad topsails, from the yards unfurl'd. Shook in the wind, and summon'd him away ; Brisk blew the gales, and curl'd the yielding flood. Nor had he one excuse to urge his stay — Be chang'd (he said) ye winds that blow so fair; Why do not tempests harrow up the deep. And all but the moist south in quiet sleep ! To the bleak shore the parting lovers came. And while Philander did his sighs renew. So near the deep they bade their last farewell That the rough surge, to quench the mutual flame Burst in and broke the embrace, and o'er Lavinia flew ; While a dark cloud hung lowering o'er the main, From whence the attendants many an omen drew. And said Philander would not come again ! 324 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Now to their various heights the sails ascend, And southward from the land their course they bore. Lavinia mourn'd the lover and the friend, And stood awhile upon the sandy shore, 'Till interposing seas the hull conceal'd, And distant sails could only greet her view, Like a faint cloud that brush'd the watery field. And swell'd by whistling winds, impetuous, flew : Then to a neighbouring hill the nymph withdrew, And the dear object from that height survey'd, 'Till all was lost and mingled with the main. And night descended, with her gloomy shade, And kindled in the heavens her starry train. Safe to the south the ocean-wading keel In one short month its rapid course achiev'd, And the cold star, that marks the Arctic pole, Was in the bosom of the deep receiv'd: And now the weary barque at anchor rode Where Oronoko pours his sultry wave. Moist Surinam, by torrents overflow'd. And Amazonia vends the fainting slave ; — Philander, there, not fated to return, Perceiv'd destruction in his bosom burn, And the warm flood of life too fiercely, glow : The vertic sun a deadly fever gave, And the moist soil bestow'd his bones a grave. Deep in the waste, where oceans overflow, And Oronoko's streams the forests lave. Oft' to the winding shore Lavinia came Where fond Philander bade his last adieu, (And that steep hill which gave her the last view) Till seven long years had round their orbits ran, 179°] THE FAIR SOLITARY 325 Yet no Philander came, or none she knew ; Alas (she cry'd) for every nymph but me Each sea-bleach'd sail some welcome wanderer brings, And all but I get tidings of their friends ; Sad Mariamne drowns herself in woe If one poor month Amyntor quits her arms. And says, " from Ashley's stream he comes too slow," — And bodes the heavy storm, and midnight harms : What would she say, if doom'd to wait, like me, And mourn long years, and no Philander see ! THE FAIR SOLITARY! No more these groves a glad remembrance claim Where grief consumes a half deluded dame. Whom to these isles a modern Theseus bore, And basely left, frail virtue to deplore^—. In foreign climes detained from all she loved, By friends neglected, long by Fortune proved. While sad and solemn passed the unwelcome day What charms had life for her, to tempt her stay? Deceived in all; for meanness could deceive. Expecting still, and still condemned to grieve. She scarcely saw — to different hearts allied That her dear Florio ne'er pursued a bride ! Are griefs, like thine, to Florio's bosom known? — Must these, alas! be ceaseless in your own? 1 Published in the 1795 edition under the title "The Mourning Nun." Text from the edition of i8og. 326 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Life is a dream ! — its varying shades I see ; But this cold wanderer hardly dreams of thee — The bloom of health, which bade all hearts adore, To your pale cheek what physic shall restore? Vain are those drugs that art and love prepares, No art redeems the waste of sighs and tears ! AMANDA IN A CONSUMPTION > Smit by the glance of your bright eyes When I, Amanda, fondly gaze, Strange feelings in my bosom rise And passion all my reason sways : Worlds I would banish from my view, And quit the gods — to talk with you. The smile that decks your fading cheek. To me a heavy heart declares ; When you are silent I would speak But cowardice alarms my fears: All must be sense that you do prize. All that I say — be grave and wise. When wandering in the evening shade I shared her pain, and calmed her grief, A thousand tender things I said, But all I said gave no relief : When from her hair I dried the dew, She sighed, and said — I am not for you! 'The FreemarC s Journal 'gxva.'K.i. this poem on Feb. 7, 1787, with the date of composition Jan. 26, 1787. The lady's name in this original version was Cynthia. The poem was reprinted in the 1788 collection as a part of the story " Light Summer Reading." The half mad poet, who is infatuated with the lovely Marcia, writes the verses and inscribes them ' ' To Marcia. " It seems to have been a favorite with the poet. He republished it in the National Gazette in 1 792 under the title " Marcella in a Consumption." Text from the edition of 1809. 179°] AMANDA IN A CONSUMPTION 327 When drooping, dull, and almost dead With fevers brought from sultry climes, She would not wrap my fainting head ; But recommended me some rhymes On patience and on fortitude. And other things — less understood. When, aiming to engage her heart With verses from the muses' stock ; She sighed, regardless of the art. And counted seconds by the clock ; " And thus, (she said) " will verse decay, " And thus the muse will pass away ! " When languishing upon her bed In willow shades, remote from towns. We came ; and while Priscilla read Of chrystal skies and golden crowns : She bade us at a distance stand, And leaned her head upon her hand. So, drooping hangs the fading rose, When summer sends the beating shower: So, to the grave Amanda goes. Her whole duration — but an hour! Who shall controul the sad decree. Or what, fair girl, recover thee? Such virtue in that spirit dwells — Such fortitude amidst such pain ! — And, now, with pride my bosom swells. To think I have not lived in vain. For, slighting all the sages knew, I learn philosophy from you. 328 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 ELEGIAC LINES ^ With life enamoured, but in death resigned, To seats congenial flew the unspotted mind : Attending spirits hailed her to that shore Where this world's winter chills the soul no more. Learn hence, to live resigned ; — and when you die No fears will seize you, when that hour is nigh. Transferred to heaven, Amanda has no share In the dull business of this world of care. Her blaze of beauty, even in death admired, A moment kindled, but as soon expired. Sweet as the favourite offspring of the May Serenely mild, not criminally gay : Adorned with all that nature could impart To please the fancy and to gain the heart ; Heaven ne'er above more innocence possessed. Nor earth the form of a diviner guest : A mind all virtue! — flames descended here From some bright seraph of some nobler sphere ; Yet, not her virtues, opening into bloom, Nor all her sweetness saved her from the tomb, From prospects darkened, and the purpose crossed. Misfortune's winter, — and a lover lost; Nor such resemblance to the forms above, The heart of goodness, and the soul of love! ^In the 1788 edition this appeared as two poems. The opening six lines had the title " Epitaph " and the remainder was entitled " Lines on the Death of a Lady.'' In the 1809 edition, the text of which is followed here, the poem was placed in the group of Amanda poems. 1790] .THE INSOLVENT'S RELEASE 329 Ye thoughtless fair ! — her early death bemoan, Sense, virtue, beauty, to oblivion gone. ^ THE INSOLVENT'S RELEASE^ (By H. Salem) Not from those dismal dreary coasts I come Where wizzard Faustus chews his brimstone rolls. Nor have I been to wrangle with the men Of that sad country, where, for want of rum. Dead putrid water from the stagnant fen Is drank, unmingled, by departed souls : Nor from that dog-house do I bring you news, Where Macedonian Philip * mends old shoes, But from that dreadful place arrived. Where men in debt at cribbage play. And I most cunningly contrived To fatten on two groats a day — Full on my back now turned the key, The 'squire himself is not so free. When to these rugged walls, a fathom thick, I came, directed by the sheriff's stick, * See Lucian's Dialogues ; to the following effect : " Great scholars have in Lucian read, When Philip, king of Greece, was dead His soul and body did divide, And each part took, a different side ; One rose a star, the other fell Below — and mended shoes in hell." — Freneau's note. ^ "And while you mourn your fate, think on your own." — Ed. ijSS. '^ The version in the Freeman s Journal is dated Philadelphia, April 10, 1787. The title in the 1788 version is " The Insolvent's Release and Miseries of a Country Jail." The " H. Salem " was first added in the edition of 1809, the text of which I have followed. 330 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Alas, said I, what can they mean to do ! I am not conscious of one roguish trick ! I am no thief — I took no Christian's life, Nor have I meddled with the parson's wife, (Which would have been a dreadful thing you know) Then, by these gloomy walls, this iron gate Appointed by the wisdom of your state To shut in little rogues, and keep out great ; Tell me, ye pretty lads, that deal in law. Ye men of mighty wigs, ye judges, say — Say ! by the jailor's speckled face That never beamed one blush of grace ; How long must I In prison lie For just nine guineas — that I cannot pay! Return, ye happy times, when all were free, No jails on land, no nets at sea; When mountain beasts unfettered ran. And man refused to shut up man, As men of modern days have shut up me ! — This is the dreary dark abode Of poverty and solitude ; Such was the gloomy cell where Bunyan lay While his dear pilgrim helped the time away — Such was the place where Wakefield's vicar drew Grave morals from the imprisoned crew. And found both time to preach and pray. In bed of straw and broken chair What consolation could be found ! No gay companions ventured there To push the ruddy liquor round ! From jug of stone I drank, alone, A beverage, neither clear nor strong I790] MAY TO APRIL 33 I No table laid, No village maid Came there to cheer me with her song ; My days were dull, my nights were long! My evening dreams, My morning schemes Were how to break that cruel chain. And, Jenny, be with you again. MAY TO APRILi Without your showers, I breed no flowers, Each field a barren waste appears ; If you don't weep, my blossoms sleep. They take such pleasures in your tears. As your decay made room for May, So I must part with all that's mine : My balmy breeze, my blooming trees To torrid suns their sweets resign ! O'er April dead, my shades I spread: To her I owe my dress so gay — Of daughters three, it falls on me To close our triumphs on one day : Thus, to repose, all Nature goes ; Month after month must find its doom : Time on the wing. May ends the Spring, And Summer dances on her tomb ! 'First published in the Freeman's Journal where it was signed Philadel- phia, April 16, 1787. Text from the edition of i8og. 332 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 TO AN AUTHORS Your leaves bound up compact and fair, In neat array at length prepare, To pass their hour on learning's stage, ^ To meet the surly critic's rage ; The statesman's slight, the smatterer's^ sneer — Were these, indeed, your only* fear. You might be tranquil and resigned : What most should touch your fluttering mind ; ' Is that, few critics * will be found To sift^ your works, and deal the wound. Thus, when one fleeting year is past On some bye-shelf your book is cast — * Another comes, with something new,^ And drives you fairly out of view : With some to praise, but more to blame. The mind^" returns to — whence it came; ^ First published in the 1788 edition. It doubtless records the poet's mood a year or two after his first book, the 1786 collection, was given to the public. Its original title was "An Author's Soliloquy." In 1795 the title was changed to "An Author on Authorship.'' Text from the 1809 edition. ^ " Time's broad stage."— ^(/. 178S. ' " Pedants." — lb. *The poem in the 1788 version is wholly in the first person. ^ " What most torments my boding mind." — Ed. fjSS. ' " No critic."— 7,5. ' " Read."— /^. ' " With dead men's works my book is class'd." — lb. ' This line and the following not in the original version. " " Soul."-/,5. 179°] TO AN AUTHOR 333 And some alive, who scarce could read * Will publish satires on the dead. Thrice happy Dryden*, who could meet Some rival bard in every street ! When all were bent on writing well It was some credit to excel: — ^ Thrice happy Dryden, who could find A Milbourne for his sport designed — And Pope, who saw the harmless rage Of Dennis bursting o'er his page Might justly spurn the critic's aim, Who only helped to swell his fame. On these bleak climes by Fortune thrown, Where rigid Reason reigns alone, Where lovely Fancy has no sway. Nor magic forms about us ^ play — Nor nature takes her summer hue Tell me, what has the muse to do? — An age employed in edging steel Can no poetic raptures feel ; No solitude's attracting power,* * See Johnson's lives of the English Poets. — Freneau's note. ^ ' ' And I must wear the marks of time Who hardly flourish'd in my prime." — Ed. iyS8. ^ In the 1788 version two lines follow : " While those condemn'd to stand alone Can only by themselves be known. " — lb. ' "Around her. "—/^. * " No fabled Love's enchanting power, Nor tale of Flora's painted bower, Nor woodland haunt, or murmuring grove. Can their prosaic bosoms move." — lb. 334 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 No leisure of the noon day hour, No shaded stream, no quiet grove Can this fantastic century move ; The muse of love in no request — Go — try your fortune ' with the rest. One of the nine you should engage,* To meet the follies of the age : — On one, we fear, your choice must fall — The least engaging of them all — ' Her visage stern — an angry style — A clouded brow — malicious smile — A mind on murdered victims placed — She, only she, can please the taste ! ^ " I'll try my fortune." — lb. ^ ' ' Which of the Nine shall I engage To suit the humour of the age." — lb. ' Followed by : " So late she does her wreathes prepare I hardly think them worth my care." — lb. I79P] TO MISFORTUNE 335 TO MISFORTUNE! Dire Goddess of the haggard brow, Misfortune ! at that shrine I bow Where forms uncouth pourtray thee still, A leaky ship, a doctor's bill : A poet damn'd, a beggar's prayer, The critic's growl, the pedant's sneer. The urgent dun, the law severe, A smoky house, rejected love. And friends that all but friendly prove. Foe to the pride of scheming man Whose frown controuls the wisest plan, To your decree we still submit Our views of gain, our works of wit. Untaught by you the feeble mind A dull repose, indeed, might find : But life, unvext by such controul. Can breed no vigour in the soul. The calm that smooths the summer seas May suit the man of sloth and ease : But skies that fret and storms that rave Are the best schools to make us brave. ^ Published in the Freeman's Journal, July i8, 1787 ; dated "Philadel- phia, July 16." Republished in the 1788 and 1795 editions, the latter of which I have followed. 336 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 On Heckla's heights who hopes to see The blooming grove, the orange tree Awhile on hope may fondly lean 'Till sad experience blots the scene. If Nature acts on Reason's plan, And Reason be the guide of man ; Why should he paint fine prospects there, Then sigh, to find them disappear? For ruin'd states or trade perplext 'Tis almost folly to be vext: The world at last will have its way And we its torrent must obey. On other shores a happier guest The mind must fix her haven of rest. Where better men and better climes Shall soothe the cares of future times. TO CRACOVIUS PUTRIDUS^ The Sailor, toss'd on stormy seas. Implores his patron-god for ease When Luna hides her paler blaze. And stars, obscurely, dart their rays : For ease the Yankee, fierce in war. His stores of vengeance points afar : For ease, the toiling Dutchman sighs, Which gold, nor gems, nor purple buys! ' Published in tlie Freeman's Journal, Sept. '5, 1787. In the 1788 edition it was entitled " Horace, Lib. II, Ode 16, Imitated and addressed to Governor Parr. Otium divos rogat in patenti, &c." The poem seems to have been occasioned by the return of General Arnold to Nova Scotia from England. Text from the edition of 1795. 179°] TO CRACOVIUS PUTRIDUS 337 No treasur'd hoards, from India trade, No doctor's, or the lawyer's aid Can ease the tumults of the mind, Or cares to gilded roofs assign'd. The end of life he, best, completes Whose board is spread with frugal treats. Whose sleep no fears, no thirst of gain, Beneath his homely shed, restrain. Why, then, with wasting cares engage. Weak reptiles of so frail an age — Why, thus, to far-off climates run. And lands beneath another sun? For, though to China's coasts we roam. Ourselves we ne'er can leave at home: Care, swift as deer — as tempests strong. Ascends the prow, and sails along. The mind that keeps an even state. And all the future leaves to fate. In every ill shall pleasure share. As every pleasure has it's care. Fate early seal'd Montgomery's doom, In youth brave Laurens found a tomb ; While Arnold spends in peace and pride The years, that heaven to them denied. A host of votes are at your call ; A seat, perhaps, in Congress-Hall; ^ And vestments, soak'd in Stygian dye. Where'er you go, alarm the eye : 1 '" An hundred slaves before you fall, A coach and six attends your call." — Ed. lySS. 338 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 On me, a poor and small domain, With something of a poet's vein The muse bestow'd — and share of pride To spurn a scoundrel from my side. SLENDER'S JOURNEY *i Sit mihi fas audita loqui, — Virg. I. Preliminary Reflections Tormented with landlords and pester'd with care. This life, I protest, is a tedious affair; And, since I have got a few dollars to spare, I'll e'en take a jaunt, for the sake of fresh air. Since the day I return'd to this king-hating shore Where George and his cronies are masters no more, * Mr. Robert Slender, of Philadelphia (Stocking Weaver) . Freneau's note. ' First published in pamphlet form by Bailey, April, 1787, under the title, ' ' A Journey from Philadelphia to New- York by way of Burlington and South- Amboy. By Robert Slender, Stocking Weaver." The advertisement in the Freeman' s Journal oi April 25 declares that " Some truth in the occasion and a good deal of fancy in the colouring mark the character of the above perform- ance. The style is smooth and easy and the pleasurable air that is diffused over the whole piece will certainly render the whole poem acceptable to such as choose to read it." The poem was republished in the editions of 1788 and 1795, the text of the latter of which I have used. It was again republished in a twenty-four page pamphlet by Thomas Neversink, Philadelphia, Dec. 20, iSog, under the title " A Laughable Poem; or Robert Slender's Journey from Philadelphia to New York." The earlier versions, of which the 1788 text was a reprint, had the poem divided into four cantos. In the 1795 edition the sub- division into sections was made. Freneau thoroughly revised the poem for the 1795 edition, making very many changes, all for the better. He cut out nearly all of the indelicate allusions and expressions of the earlier edition, including the coarse but highly picturesque dialogue between the skipper and the captain, and it has seemed best to me not to resurrect them. The iSog edition was reprinted with little change from the 1795 version. 179°] SLENDER'S JOURNEY 339 And others are plac'd at the helm of affairs, Relieving the weight of his majesty's cares ; For many long weeks, it has still been my doom To sit like a mopus, confin'd to my loom,* Whose damnable clatter so addles my brain, That, say what they will, I am forc'd to complain. Our citizens think, when they sit themselves down In the gardens that grow in the skirts of the town, They think they have got in some rural retreat. Where the nymphs of the groves, and the singing birds meet When only a fence shuts them out from the street; With the smoke of the city be-clouding their eyes They sit in their boxes, and look very wise. Take a sip of bad punch, or a glass of sour wine ; Conceiting their pleasures are equal to mine, Who rove where I will, and wherever I roam. In spite of new faces, am always at home. Poor Richard, the reel-man, had nothing to say ; He knew very well I would have my own way ; — When I said, " My dear Richard, I'm sick of the town, And Dutchmen that worry me, upstairs and down, A book of bad debts, and a score of bad smells, The yelping of dogs, and the chiming of bells ; I am sick of the house, and the sight of small beer. And the loom may be going, tho' I am not here ; I therefore shall leave you, and that, to be plain, 'Till I feel in a humour to see you again." — Poor Richard said nothing to all that I spoke. But kindled his pipe, and redoubled his smoke. * The stocking-loom was invented by a young man who paid his addresses to a handsome stocking-knitter, and being rejected, in revenge contrived this curious machine, which, it is said, consists of no less than six thousand differ- ent pieces. Preneau's note, if 88 edition. 340 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Yet it would have been nothing but friendship in him To have said, — " Robert Slender, 'tis only a whim: — A trip to the Schuylkill, that nothing would cost, Might answer your ends, and no time would be lost; But if you are thinking to make a long stay. Consider, good Robert, what people will say : His rent running on, and his loom standing still — The man will be ruin'd! — he must, if he will — ! If tradesmen will always be flaunting about. They may live to repent it — before the year's out! " II. Characters of the TRAVELLERS William Snip, Merchant Taylor As I never could relish to travel alone, I look'd round about, but could hit upon none Whom Satan was tempting to leave their own houses And ramble to York with their daughters and spouses ; At last, by repeating my trouble and care. And preaching a month on the sweets of fresh air, And the curse and the plague of remaining in town. Where the heat was sufficient to melt a man down, I got a few friends to consent to the trip ; And the first I shall mention was honest Will. Snip, Philadelphia the famous had own'd to his birth, The gravest of towns on the face of the earth ; Where saints of all orders their freedom may claim. And poets, and painters, and girls of the game : To him all its streets and its alleys were known. But his travels had never exceeded the town : — A salesman by trade (and a dabster was he To make a silk knee-band set snug to the knee) With his wife (and he says I may mention her name) Susanna Snipinda — so charming a dame. 179°] SLENDER'S JOURNEY 341 The sun had with pleasure look'd down on her head, So freckled was she, and her tresses so red. To wait on the will of so handsome a lady A youngster was order'd to hold himself ready, A sly looking lad that was 'prentice to Snip, And long had been learning to cabbage and clip ; — When Snip was in sight, he was mild as a lamb; When absent, old Satan could hardly rule Sam. III. O'Keef, a Swaggering Captain The next I describe is bold captain O'Keef, A killer of men, and a lover of beef : With the heroes of old he had put in his claim, And catch'd at their mantles, and rose into fame : To the sound of a fife and the tune of no song With his Andra Ferrara* he paddled along: From his manners so rough, and his dealing in ruin, He was known thro' the town by the name of Sir Bruin ; He was, among women, a man of great parts, A captain of foot, and a master of arts : He had, a sweet creature put under his care, (Whose style of address was, my dear, and my dear) A Milliner's girl, with a bundle of lace, Whom Cynthiaf he call'd, for the sake of her face. At a ball or a frolic how glib his tongue ran. He was, I may say, an unparallell'd man, Very apt to harangue on the hosts he has slain Of people — perhaps that may meet him again: Yet so kind to the sex of the feminine make, * A large kind of sword, in use among the Italians. — Freneau's note, jjgj edition. t Cynthia is also a poetical name for the Moon. — Freneau's note, 1788 edition. 342 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 By his words, he would venture to die for their sake, Whence some have suspected, that some he ador'd Have more than made up for the wastes of his sword. IV. TOUPPEE: a French Hair Dresser The third in succession was Monsieur Touppee, A barber from Paris, of royal degree, ( For oft when he takes up his razor, to strap it. He tells his descent from the house of Hugh Capet*) Tho' soft in the head, his discourses were long. Now counting his honours, and now his I'argent. This barber, tho' meaning for pleasure to stray. Yet had some pomatum to sell by the way, Perfumes, and fine powders, and essence of myrrh, A bundle of brooms, and a firkin of beer : — His merits are great (he would have us suppose ) For Louis (it seems) he has had by the nose, Has bid him, when drooping, to hold up his chin, And handled a tongs — at the head of the Queen. \ V. Bob : fl Ballad Singer A singer of ballads was next in our train. Who long had been dealing in ballads in vain ; He sometimes would sing in a musical tone. And sometimes would scribble a song of his own : Yet never was seen with his brethren to mix — And laugh'd at your poets in coaches and six ; Who sing, like the birds, when the weather is fine ; Whose verses the ladies pronounce " so divine; " Who ride with Augustus, wherever he goes, *A popular French nobleman, who, A. D. 987, usurped the crown of France, and was the first of a new race of monarchs. — Freneatis note, ifSS edition. 179°] BLENDER'S JOURNEY 343 And, meeting old Homer, would turn up the nose — As to those, like himself, that were held to the ground, He knew it was folly to feed them with sound — He knew it was nonsense to crown them with bays. And was too much their friend to insult them with praise. For a dozen long years he had liv'd by the mob : On the word of a weaver, I pitied poor Bob! ^ He had sung for the great and had rhym'd for the small. But scarcely a shilling had got by them all — So bad was his luck, and so poor was the trade. And the Muses, he thought, were so sneakingly paid, That if times didn't alter, and that very soon. He said and he swore, he must sing his last tune. Some devil had put it, somehow, in his head If he took a short journey his fortune was made : Some devil had told him (but whether in dreams Or waking, I know not) some devil, it seems. Had made him believe that the nymphs and the swains Were fairly at war with their old fashion'd strains. That the tunes which the kirk or the curates had made (And which always had ruin'd the balladman's trade) Were wholly disus'd, and that now was the time For singers of catches and dealers in rhyme To step from their stalls, where they long were disgrac'd. Reform the old music, and fix a new taste. VI. O' Bluster: a Seaman A mate of a schooner, bespatter'd with tar. Who had lately come in from Savanna-la-Mar,* *A seaport town in the S. W. quarter of Jamaica. — Freneau's note, jySS edition. ^The 1788 version here adds this couplet : "The Babes in the wood was his favourite song, Or Barbara Allan, or Johnny Armstrong." 344 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 For, the sake of an airing had slept from his deck And ventur'd a jaunt, at the risque of his neck, His name and his nation no soul could mistake. — He was Bryan O'Bluster, and much of a rake; From morning till night he was still on the move, Was always in taverns, or always in love : His life was sustain'd by the virtues of grog, And many long miles he had sail'd by the log. — Of battles and storms he had known a full share. And his face, it was plain, was the worse for the wear; To see a mean fellow, lord how it would fret him ; And he hated a puppy, wherever he met him — He was ready to bleed for the good of each State, But since they had left the poor seamen to fate ; Themselves in the dumps, and their fair ones in tears, And many brave fellows detain'd in Algiers ! — Had spirit sufficient to make themselves free, But not to resent their affronts on the sea ! As this was the case — he must bid us good night, And sail with a flag that would do itself right. At cursing and swearing he play'd a good hand. But never was easy a minute on land ; If the wind was a-head, or his Kitty untrue, Why, patience was all the relief that he knew : — In the midst of misfortune he still was serene, And Kitty, he said, was a feeble machine : His heart was too hard for a lady to sigh, Yet I guess'd him a rogue by the leer in his eye : " The world (he would say) is a whimsical dance — And reason had taught him to leave it to chance. In chace of dame Fortune his prime he had pass'd, And now was beginning to fail very fast. But thought it was folly his heart to perplex. As Fortune was just like the rest of her sex ; — 1790] SLENDER'S JOURNEY 345 Designing, and fickle, and taken with show, Now fond of a monkey, and now of a beau : — Yet, still, as the goddess was made up of whim, He meant to pursue 'till she smil'd upon him." And tho' he was always deceived in the chace. He smooth'd up his whiskers, and wore a bold face. On horseback he first had attempted to go, But the horse was no fool, and had give him a throw ; He fell in a pond, and with not a dry rag on The horse brought him back to the sign of the waggon, Where three times he call'd for a dram of their best. And three times the virtues of brandy confess'd ; Then took some tobacco, and soberly said, " De'il take such a vessel; she's all by the head, Broach'd to on a sudden, and then, d'ye see. Myself and the saddle went over the lee." His head was so full of his ragged command He could scarcely believe he was yet on dry land ; He would rise in his sleep ; call the watch up at four. Ask the man at the helm how the Eddystone bore ; Then, rubbing his eyes, bawl out, " By my soul, " We are bearing right down on the Hatteras shoal; " The devil may trust to such pilots as you: "We are close on the breakers — the breakers — halloo ! " Vn. EZEKIEL: a Rhode-Island Lawyer The sixth, and the last, that attended our journey, Was a man of the law, a Rhode-Island attorney. As cunning as Satan to argue or plead. To break an entailment, or get himself fee'd They call'd him Ezekiel — I cannot tell what — Perhaps I forget it — perhaps I do not — 346 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 He had once been a parson, and studied at Yale,* But took to the law, when his preaching grew stale ; In his system of thinking, not well understood, I wander'd about, like a man in a wood ; From morning 'till night he was nothing but whim. Not a man in the town held opinions, like him : In regard to the vulgar, he argued that Law Was better than preaching, to keep them in awe : That the dread of a gallows had greater ejffect. And a post or a pillory claim'd more respect From a knave — and would sooner contribute to mend. Than all the grave precepts that ever were penn'd. VIII. The Chapter of DEBATES Having pitch'd on our party, there rose a dispute On the mode of conveyance — in waggon or boat? For my part, said Snip, I was always afraid Of sailors, and sloops and the shallopman's trade. And the reason thereof I will candidly tell, My grandmother, Mopsy, was drown'd in a well ; I therefore intreat you, and fervently pray We may go with the waggons the Burlington way." " Hold, master," the sailor replied in a fret, " The devil's not ready to bait for you yet: Even this way, you know, there is water to pass. And twenty long miles we should sail with an ass; — But, gentlemen all, will you take my advice? Here's Albertson's f sloop; she's so new and so nice, Her bottom so sleek, and her rigging so trim. Not Bailey t or Hydef can be mentioned with him; * Yale College in New- Haven. — Freneau's note, lySS edition. ■)■ Commanders of Philadelphia and New- York packets. — lb. 179°] SLENDER'S JOURNEY 347 In her cabbin and steerage is plenty of room, And how clever she looks with her Hying jib-boom, A topsail aloft, that will stand by the wind, And a yard rigg'd athwart, for a squaresail design'd. " Odds fish! I would sooner some little delay Than go, like a booby, the fresh-water way Where your cream-colour'd captains ne'er swear a bad word. And sail without compass or quadrant on board, Catch catfish and sturgeons, but never a whale, Nor balance a mizen, to fight with the gale : But Albertson goes by the route of Cape May, Salt-water, and sees the bold porpusses play : Where the shore of the coast the proud ocean controuls He travels, nor strikes on the Barnegat shoals." " You tar-smelling monster! (Snipinda rejoin'd) Your jargon has almost distracted my mind. If Snip should be drownded, and lost in the sea, You never once think what a loss it would be ! I should then be a widow, dejected and sad And where would I find such another sweet lad ! And Doctor Sangrado a letter has wrote, And how, in three weeks he will want a new coat." — Snip's heart, at her answer, seera'd ready to break : " Snipinda," said he, " I would live for your sake! If I should be drownded, indeed, it is true, It would be a bad journey for Sam and for you ! " — For fear they should hear him, Sam whisper'd, "In troth I would give my new hat that the devil had both." " If Snip should be drown'd," said the valiant O'Keef, " Poor woman! already I guess at her grief — However, for aught that a stranger can see, There are dozens as brisk at the needle as he. 348 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 And, tho' it were hard that the sea-fish should tear him, I'm fully convinc'd that his brethren can spare him : " But were I to mention the very best way, And the quickest to boot (for they go in a day) I would sleep over night at the sign of the Queen,* (Where the wine is so good, and the beds are so clean) Then starting by day-break, and riding in state, Arriving in Bristol — we breakfast at eight, Then push on our way, with a rapid career. With nothing to hinder, and nothing to fear. Till Trenton, and Princeton, and Brunswick are pass'd. And safe on the Hudson they drop us at last." When the captain had finish'd, the Frenchman arose, And smoothing his whiskers, and squaring his toes, With a bend of his back, and a swing of his head Thus expressing his wish, with a flourish, he said : " Wherever pomatums are most in demand That route has my vote, be it water or land : Wherever I travel, through sun-shine or glooms. May fortune direct me to powders and plumes ! — So, gentlemen, choose, I beseech you, that road Where ladies prefer to be dress'd in the mode." " Hold, varlet, be still " — said the Yankee attorney, " Are you to decide on the route of our journey? These run-about fellows, I cannot but hate 'em, With their rings, and their ruffles, and rolls of pomatum : But, gentlemen, (if I may venture to speak In the stile I was wont when I dabbled in Greek, When I blew on my trumpet, and call'd up my pack, Who thought I was holy because I was black; Or, if you allow me a moral to draw From some words that were frequent with Doctor Magraw); — * Indian Quctn. —Freneau's note, i'j88 edition. 179°] SLENDER'S JOURNEY 349 " We all have in view to arrive at one town, "Yet each one would find out a way of his own; " What a pity it is that we cannot agree " To march all together to Zion " — said he — But, since I'm convinc'd that it cannot be so, (For his journey resembles our journey below) Like the sects in religion, I heartily pray That each, as he pleases, may have his own way, Let Snip, and the captain, adventure by land, The sailor by sea — he can reef, steer, and hand; Let the Frenchman set out in a gaudy balloon, (He'll either be there, or be dead, very soon,) For my own part, I'm fond of the Burlington boat. But still, if you're willing, I'll put it to vote : The hint was sufficient — he put it to vote. And fate bade us go with the Burlington boat. IX. The Passage to BURLINGTON The morning was fair, and the wind was at west. The flood coming in, and the ladies were drest; At the sign of the Billet we all were to meet. And Snip was the first that appear'd in the street ; He strutted along with a mighty brisk air. While Sam and Snipinda walked slow in the rear. Dress'd, booted, and button'd, and " cutting a shine " The captain came next, with his loaded carbine ; Then handed on board the milliner's maid : The barber and ballad-man longer delay'd For one had his ballads to sing and to play. And the other some beards to take off by the way : At last they arriv'd, and the sailor along, (But he was besotted — his dram had been strong — ) 35° POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 The lawyer, Ezekiel, was last to appear, With a cane in his hand and a quill at his ear. But, just as we all were prepar'd to embark. The wind came a-head, and the weather look'd dark: So, whilst they were busy in hoisting the sails And trimming close aft' to encounter the gales. Our seaman advis'd them to take in a reef As the vessel was light — but the skipper was deaf: " His boat was his own" — and he knew to a hair The " worth of her freight," and the "sail she could bear." Then a storm coming on, we stow'd away snug, Some link'd with a lady, and some with a jug: Snipinda and Sam were inclining to sleep, And the lawyer harangu'd on the risques of the deep. O' Bluster was busy in looking for squalls, And Cynthia discours'd upon dances and balls. And while the poor ballad-man gave us a song The Frenchman complain'd that his stomach felt wrong. Arriving, at length at the end of this stage, We quitted our cabbin (or rather our cage) To the sign of the Anchor we then were directed, Where captain O'Keef a fine turkey dissected; And Bryan O'Bluster made love to egg-nog, And pester'd the ladies to taste of his grog : Without it (said Bryan) I never can dine, 'Tis better, by far, than your balderdash wine, It braces the nerves and it strengthens the brain, A world — and no grog — is a prison of pain. And Man, the most wretched of all that are found To creep in the dust, or to move on the ground ! It is, of all physic, the best I have seen To keep out the cold, and to cut up the spleen — 179°] SLENDER'S JOURNEY 351 Here, madam — miss Cynthia — 'tis good — you'll con- fess — Now taste — and you'll wish you had been in my mess — With grog I'm as great as a king on his throne ; The worst of all countries is — where there is none, New Holland, New Zealand — those islands accurs'd — Here's health to the man that invented it first. X. Vexations and Disasters Coop'd up in a waggon, the curtains let down, At three in the morning we drove out of town : A morning more dark I ne'er saw in my life. And the fog you might almost have cut with a knife, It was a fit season for murders and rapes, For drunken adventures and narrow escapes : — So, with something to think of, ^ut little to say, The driver drove on, looking out for the way, 'Till we came to the brow of a horrible hill, Six miles on our road, when the cattle stood still — "Are you sure you have took the right road?" — queried Snip ; " I am" — said the driver — and crack'd with his whip. Then away ran the horses, but took the wrong road. And away went the waggon, with all its full load ; Down, deep in a valley, roU'd over and over. Fell the flying-machine, with its curtains and cover. Where shatter'd and shiver'd — no glimpse yet of day, A mass of destruction, together we lay ! Then howlings were heard, that would frighten a stone, And screeching, and screaming, and many a groan. The bruising of heads, and the breaking of shins. Contrition of heart, and confession of sins. 352 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 First rose from his ruins tall captain O'Keef, And call'd to Ezekiel, and begg'd for his brief: * A writ he demanded, as soon as 'twas day, And ask'd his advice, if a suit would not lay? Then felt for his sword, but chanc'd on a cane. And rush'd at the stageman, to cleave him in twain. As fortune would have it, the stageman had fled, And Snip the whole vengeance receiv'd on his head; The staff had been whirl'd with so deadly a sweep Poor Will in a moment was all in a heap : There was room to surmise that his senses were hurt, For, in spite of our bruises, he made us some sport: His head, he conceited, was made of new cheese; And ask'd, if the sexton would give up his fees? — Then, rolling away on the side of the hill. With his head in a horse-pond, he lay very still : At last he bawl'd out — " I'm sick at my heart! Come hither, companions, and see me depart! Snipinda, Snipinda! — alas, I must leave her — And all, for the sake of this villainous weaver, Who never would give me a moment of rest 'Till I left my dear shop-board, and thus am distrest ! But a time will arrive (if I deem not amiss) When Slender, the weaver, will suffer for this — May his breeches, be always too big for his wear. Or so narrow and scant as to torture his rear; May his waistcoat be ever too long or too short. And the skirts of his tunic not both of a sort ; — And, when from this sorrowful jaunt you return. Tell Doctor Sangrado 'tis needless to mourn: Ah ! tell him I firmly believ'd I was going Where people no longer are wed-ding and wooing, * A Lawyer's compend, in which he notes down the heads of arguments in Law-suits. — Frtneau's note, lygs edition. 179°] SLENDER'S JOURNEY 353 Where white linen stockings will ever be clean, And sky-men are clad in the best of nankeen ; Where with old Continental our debts we can pay, And a suit of best broad-cloth will last but a day ; Where with pretty brass thimbles the streets are all pav'd. And a remnant — if not a whole piece — shall be sav'd. Where cloth may be cabbag'd — and that without fear — And journeymen work — thirteen months to the year! " Snipinda was mov'd at so dismal a yell. And groping about to find where he fell, Exclaim'd, " I have got a sad bruise on one hip. But matters, I fear, are much worse with poor Snip." "Yes, yes" — answer'd Snip — "I'm preparing to go — Be speedy, Snipinda, my pulse is so low ! " Then she went where he lay, and took hold of his head. And whisper'd the captain, "how much he has bled! " ( For she thought, as he lay with his nose in the puddle, That the water was blood, that had flow'd from his noddle.) " Ah ! where is the doctor, to give him a pill; And where is the Lawyer, to write his last- will? Ezekiel! Ezekiel! attend to his words; If I am his widow, I must have my thirds ! But can you" — and here she reclin'd on his breast — "And can you resolve to forsake me distrest, Is it thus you would quit me, my joy and my love. And leave me alone for the shop-boards above : Is it thus you consign me to trouble and woe? — When you are departed, ah! where shall I go? I shall then be a widow — forsaken and sad — And where shall I find such another sweet lad? Who then will afford me a mint-water dram. Gallant me to meeting — and who will flog Sam? " 354 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 By this time the story was currently spread, And most were convinc'd that the taylor was dead, — " The taylor is dead beyond all relief! The taylor is dead," cry'd captain O'Keef : " To fetch up a fashion, or trump up a whim. Not a knight of the thimble was equal to him ! " " The taylor is dead" — (the lawyer exclaim'd) God speed him ! — 'tis better to die than be maim'd : If life is a race, as the learned pretend, God help him ! his racing is soon at an end : His anchor is cast, and his canvas is furl'd ; A creature he was, so attach'd to the world. So eager for money — (I say it with grief ) He never consider'd the 'fall of the leaf.' He is come ( we may say ) to the end of his tether Where the maid and her master shall lay down together For the place where he's gone may we also prepare. Where the Mind, when admitted, shall rest from her care, And fiddles — the finest that ever were seen. Shall play, for his comfort, a brisk Bonny Jean. " The taylor is dead" (said the company round) " The taylor is dead " — the dark forests resound. — ' ' He is dead ! " — blubber'd Sam, with a counterfeit sigh — When the sailor bawl'd out — " By my soul it's a lie ! The fellow has only a mind for some fun. His blood is not cold, and his race is not run. His head, it is true, may have had a small shock : I'll bind it — 'twill only be strapping a block: Here, hand me a neck-cloth, a napkin, a clout! Now — heave up his noddle, and strap it about! Success to the skull that can bear a good jirk — They only have damag'd his ginger-bread work." The matters turn'd out as he said and he swore. And the taylor threw open his peepers once more. 1790] SLENDER'S JOURNEY 355 XI. Conclusion of the Journey When the morning appear'd, it is horrid to tell What mischiefs the most of our crew had befel : A bundle lay here, and a budget lay there ; The Frenchman was fretting and pulling his hair, The horses were feeding about on the hill. And Snip, with his head on a hassock lay still, The driver beseech'd us the fault to excuse, The night had been dark — and "he lost both his shoes " — Then he rais'd up his waggon, rejoicing to find That, by leaving the top and the curtains behind, We still might proceed — for the body was sound. And the wheels, upon searching, uninjur'd all 'round. But dull and dishearten'd we travell'd along, Our waggon dismantled, our harness all wrong: The lawyer was vext that we went a snail's pace, And Cynthia was sure she had lost half her lace ; While Bryan O'Bluster, who Snip had restor'd. Asserted, that Snip was the Jonas on board. And often declar'd, in his moments of glee, " He would give him a souse, if he had him at sea." At length, we arriv'd, with the marks of our fall, And halted to dine at the town of Road-Hall : Honest David has always a dish of the best, But Snipinda declar'd there was nothing well drest — " And Snip (she exclaim'd) I would ask him to eat. But I know that he never could relish roast-meat : I think it were better to get him some Tea, He always was fond of slop dinners, like me, But then he could never endure your Bohea — La! madam, is this the best tea that you keep? By the taste and the smell, you have purchas'd it cheap ! 356 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 No Hyson or Congo to give a sick stranger ! Poor man! I've no doubt but his life is in danger! " No doctor like Neptune for people like him, ( Quoth O'Bluster) — his illness is merely a whim : If I had him at sea, with the rest of our crew, He should dance to the tune of a bowl of Burgoo ! " " From all that appears (said captain O'Keef ) I judge he might venture to taste the roast beef, Nay — I think I can guess, from the cast of his eye. He longs to have hold of the gooseberry pye ! " " Why captain (she cry'd) would you kill the poor sinner? If he cannot have tea, he shall go without dinner ! " At length to the Ferry we safely arrive. Each thanking his genius he still was alive : Poor Cynthia complain'd of abundance of harms. The black on her face and the blue on her arms: Snipinda exclaim'd that she wanted "a patch. For Snip, in his ravings, had give her a scratch : The corpse of the captain was merely a wreck. And the sailor complain'd of a kink in his neck. He had a contusion, beside, on his thigh ; And the ballad-man talk'd of a bruise on his eye. Just adding, " how much he was vext at the heart That no one regarded the song-singing art : Yet the town was in love with his music (he said) But never consider'd he liv'd by the trade ; That affronts and neglect were forever his lot. And the lovers of music respected him — not; He had sung for the nymphs, and had sung for the swains, But they were unwilling to purchase his strains. I79°] SLENDER'S JOURNEY 357 When he put up his ballads and call'd for his pay, The shepherds slunk off, and the nymphs ran away." So, we said what we could to encourage poor Bob, And pitied his fortune, — to live by the mob : Advis'd him to cobble, cut throats, or dig ditches If he wish'd to advance to perferment and riches; That the time had arriv'd, when a sycophant race Of poets are only promoted to place — He should scorn them alike, if attach'd to a crown. Singing lies to a court, or disguis'd in the gown ; That a poet of genius (all history shews) Ne'er wanted a puppy, to bark at his muse : And, though their productions were never once read. Yet Bavius and Mevius must also be fed. Then the skipper came in, with a terrible noise, Exclaiming, " The wherry is ready, my boys: The sails are unfurl'd, and the clock has struck eight; Away to the wharf, for no longer I wait! " Now all were embark'd, and the boat under sail. With a dark cloudy sky and a stiff blowing gale : In plying to windward we delug'd our decks — O' Bluster discours'd of disasters and wrecks — Snip offer'd the skipper five dollars, and more. And a pair of new trowsers, to run us on shore ; " And, if I was there (said the faint-hearted swain) No money should tempt me to travel again ! I had rather, by far, I had broken both legs, Been rotting in prison, or pelted with eggs ! Now comrades and captains, I bid you good night. And you, Mr. Slender, our journey will write ; A journey like this will attention attract. Related in metre, and known to be fact." — 358 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Snipinda was sorry she ever left home — Ezekiel confess'd it was madness to roam ; — Toupee was alarm'd at the break of the seas, And you, Robert Slender, were not at your ease ; Yet couldn't help laughing at captain O'Keef, Who shunn'd little Cynthia, and cast up his beef: " And, Bruin (she said) 1 am sick at my heart. Come hither, 1 pray you — and see me depart: What wretches e'er travell'd so rugged a route ; Alas! I am sorry that e'er we set out! " And Sam, while he own'd what a thief he had been, O'Bluster made love to a bottle of gin — Bob's ballads and poems lay scatter'd and torn Himself in the dumps and his visage forlorn; — Snip lay with his head by the side of a pot. In doubt if his soul was departing or not, Complaining, and spewing, and cursing his luck — Then look'd at Snipinda — and call'd her his duck. At last to relieve us, when thought of the least. The wind came about to the south of southeast, The barque that was buried in billows before Now flew like a gull by the Long-Island shore. And gaining the port where we wish'd to arrive. Was safe in the bason — precisely at five. 179°] THE HERMIT OF SABA 359 THE HERMIT OF SABA^ Hermit, First Mariner, Second Mariner, Third Mariner Scene, The Island of Saba * Hermit Though many years on these tall cliffs residing I recollect not such a dreadful quarrel Between the seas and water-vexing tempests As now torments my ears, and pains my eyes — Clouds, low suspended, seem to embrace the foam Of yonder angry ocean — bursting thunders, With their pale sheets of lightning, are as busy As though they meant to cleave this mass of nature, Proving at once the world's mortality — But am I safe on this sea-girded island. Or can these shores, thus beaten, bear the shock Of such a bold assault — ? When universal ruin shall approach. Will the grand scene be more astonishing When thou, sky-pointing Saba, Shalt tremble on thy base most fearfully ! — *One of the windward Islands in the W. Indies. It is small, and appears like an immense cone, or sugar loaf, rising out of the surrounding ocean. — The inhabitants are of Dutch origin, and are equally strangers to the luxury and tyranny of the Sugar Islands. — Lat. 17° 30' N. Lon. 63° 12' W. — Freneau's note. ' This poem was doubtless a product of Freneau's earlier Muse, as were alsothepoems " The Indian Burying Ground," " The Indian Student," "The Man of Ninety," and " Alcina's Enchanted Island" which follow. They were, however, first printed in the edition of 1788 and there is no other hint as to their date. I have followed in all cases except the last the i8og text. 360 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Night comes ! — I'll to my cavern in the mountain, Far from the torrent's roar and bursting billow ; That cavern, where I oft have found repose Since on this barren isle, a shipwrecked stranger, I made my sole escape — Ha! what are these! A barque half buried in the spouting surge Comes rushing towards the isle, impelled by winds That scorn all motives of compassion. Hark ! now she strikes the iron pointed reef Foundering ; the horrid surge that breaks upon her Has sealed their doom, and hope itself forsakes them Man is too weak to combat with the power Of these mad elements, that conquer all. Ending the day light of our misery ! — Yes, yes — I'll to my haunt, for scenes like these Pain the shocked soul and damp all resolution ; — Or, shall I to the shore, while day remains. And search among the shell-incrusted coral. Lest if by some great chance or miracle Some wretch survives upon the ragged rocks. Who knowing not of human kind residing On this sequestered, unfrequented isle. Tired in contending with the angry billows And beaten by the surge the whole night through For want of such relief, may die ere morning — Perdition ! three I see upon the rocks Clinging, to keep off death, while the rude billow Swells o'er their heads, insultingly victorious : Now from the reef upborne I see them struggle. Heaven grant, successfully! — they labour on. Now headlong to the shore, now back they go Despairing to the main! — now, now they land Safe in that calm recess, a narrow bay 179°] THE HERMIT OF SABA 361 To them the heaven from impending ruin — So what are you? — First Mariner If thou art an inhabitant of the isle, Lend your kind aid to three half perished wretches Of threescore souls, the only three remaining — And if thou knowest of any sheltered spot Where from these horrid blasts and water spouts We may retire to pass the long dull night : Or if thou knowest of any standing pool Or running stream, or earth-supported spring, O tell us ! and, as nothing more remains. Our gratitude must be thy sole reward. Hermit Among the hills, on their declivities Full many a sylvan haunt I have espied Ere now, in wandering when the heaven was bright ; But springs or running streams abound not here The skies alone supply the hollowed rock From whence I drain my annual full supply : Yet to my cavern you shall all resort To taste a hermit's hospitality — If you have strength, ascend this winding path And amongst these rugged rocks, still following me. We soon shall reach a safe retreat, removed Alike from noisy seas, and mountain torrents. Second Mariner Lo ! here the tall palmettoe, and the cedar, The lime tree, and sweet scented shrubs abundant With mingling branches, form a blest abode ; 362 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Here, bleating lambs crowd to the evening- fold And goats and kids, that wander o'er the hills, Vext by the storm, herd to the social hermit; In neighbouring groves the juicy lemon swells. The golden orange charms the admiring eye, And the rich cocoa yields her milky stream. Hermit Here, strangers, here repose your wearied limbs While some dead boughs I bring from yonder thicket. To wake the friendly blaze. — To drain the dams Of these impatient kids, be next my care : The cocoa's milky flesh, dried pulse and roots Shall be your fare to night ; and when to-morrow Dispells the gloom, and this tornado ceases, We'll search along the shores, and find where lie The bodies of your dear and lost companions. That so we may commit them to the dust. And thus obliterate from our remembrance The horrid havock that this storm occasioned. Third Mariner O good old man, how do I honour thee ! My future days, my services are your's ; For you, will I be earlier than the sun To bring you sticks to light the morning fire ; For you, will I attempt these dangerous cliffs And climb on high to pluck the blushing plum ; For you will I from yonder rocky height Drain chrystal waters, to delight your taste : But now be kind ; I wish to hear you tell What chance or fortune brought you to these shores : Whether alone on these rough craggs you dwell 179°] THE HERMIT OF SABA 363 Where wandering mist is gathered into showers, Or whether town or village decks the plain ; Or is there sheltered port, where swelling sails Lodge lofty ships, from hurricanes secure, Fenced in by reefs, or locked by neighbouring hills. Hermit No town or village owns this scanty soil. Nor round its coast one safe recess is seen, Where lofty ship, or barque of meaner freight Might rest secure, untroubled by the winds, Which still pursue the restless surge that pours. And spits its venom, on these ragged shores ; Nor in these woody wilds, till you were wrecked. Except myself, did Christian man reside. Wandering from Europe to these Indian isles So late discovered on the world's green end. — All lies as Nature formed it, rough throughout, And chance has planted here this garden wild. For such as I, who wandering from the world ; Cities, and men, and civilized domains. The farther distant, find the bliss more pure. Third Mariner In such a sad retreat, and all alone ! — To hold no converse but with senseless trees, To have no friendship but with wandering goats. And worthless reptiles that infest the ground — Can man be happy in so dull a scene? Hermit To the steep summit of this slighted isle I often climb at early dawn of day. And o'er the vast expanse I throw my view. 364 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Not idly thence the busy scene surveying — Vast fleets I sometimes see, each kept at bay, Or joining both in angry conversation. Their object avarice half, and half ambition — What is it all to me? what are they seeking That can give more than a sufficiency? — That object I have here which they pursue, Grasping it, miser-like, in my embraces — The stream distilling from the shaded cliff. And fruits mature from trees by Nature planted. And contemplation, heaven-born contemplation ! These are my riches ! I am wealthier far Than Spain's proud fleets, that load the groaning ocean — Wait you in yonder cave — I will return — My herd of goats is wandering in the wild. And I must house them, ere the close of day. {Exit) First Mariner Who can this hermit be — what doth he here? In such a dismal cell who would inhabit Thus lonely, who has crowds and cities seen — Is he some savage offspring of the isle. The mountain goat his food, his god the sun ; Some wretch produced from mingled heat and moisture. Full brother to the hungry pelican ; His friend, some monster of the adjacent wood ; His wife, some sorceress, red haired hag from hell ; His children, serpents, scorpions, centipedes — Third Mariner It was but now, (he spoke before he thought) he told me. That he is richer than the fleets of Spain 179°] THE HERMIT OF SABA 365 That burden the wide bosom of the ocean ; And then he seemed so pleased and satisfied, Boasting himself the happiest of mankind. Second Mariner Where should this wealth be hid — his cave shows none : A prayer book and a cross, a string of beads, A bed of moss, a cap, an earthen jug. And some few goat skins, furnish out his cave : But still this humble guise of poverty- Vast sums of splendid riches may conceal : The flooring of his den is a loose sand — Searching a fathom deep may shew strange things. While we, so long pursuing, hit on fortune. — Perhaps this hermit is some bloody pirate, Who having plundered friends and foes, alike. Has brought his booty here, to bury it. First Mariner Lo ! there he comes, driving his goats before him : He means to fence them from the tempest's rage Under the shelter of those tufted cedars : It does, indeed, appear most possible. That in this cavern rests his plundered wealth : When sleep has locked his senses in repose We'll seize him on his couch, and binding him, Cast him from yonder jutting promontory That hangs a hundred fathoms o'er the deep — Thus, shall his fate prevent discovery. Second Mariner Your project pleases me — it is most wrong That such a savage should enjoy such hoards 366 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Of useful wealth, he has not heart to use : — He builds no ships, employs no mariners; But, like a miser, hides the ill-gotten store. And had he died before we wandered hither His gold had perished, and none been the wiser. Third Mariner While you observe his motions, fellow sufferers. Of twisted bark I'll make a sett of thongs Wherewith to bind him at the midnight hour, Lest waking, he should struggle to be free And slip our hands before we gain the summit From whence we mean to plunge his tawny carcase : — There, there he comes — "Now, hermit, now befriend us, " For cruel, merciless hunger gnaws our vitals, " And every mischief that can man dishearten " Is ripe to drive us into desperation ! " Hermit Have patience, till from yonder arched grotto I bring my bowls of milk, and seasoned roots. And fruits I plucked before the day was high : Now, friends, enjoy my hospitality : All's at your service, wretched shipwrecked men; And when you've satisfied the rage of hunger Repose on these soft skins ; your sea-beat limbs Demand the aid of kind refreshing sleep : I'll to my evening prayers, as I am wont, And early dreams ; — for travelling o'er the hills, And pelted by the storm the whole day past. My knees grow feeble, and I wish for rest. {Exit) I79°] THE HERMIT OF SABA 367 Second Mariner Yes, yes — first pray, and then repose in peace, Hermit of Saba, ne'er to wake again ! Or should you wake, it must be in convulsions. Tossed from the peak of yonder precipice, Transfixt on pointed rocks, most bloodily. Third Mariner Now, now's the time: he sleeps: I hear him snore — This hidden gold has so possessed my brain. That I, at all events, must handle it: Yet should the hermit 'wake while thus engaged. Sad mischief might ensue : his nervous arm ( More than a match for our exhausted vigour ) Might exercise most horrible revenge ! Long practising among these rugged mountains, Pursuing goats, bounding from rock to rock. And cleaving trees to feed his evening fire. His nerves and blood are all activity : And then he is of so robust a fabrick That we should be mere children in his hands, Whirling us from the precipice at pleasure, ( Thus turning on ourselves our own designs ) Or catching up some fragment of a rock Grind into atoms our pale, quivering limbs ; Taking full vengeance on ingratitude. First Mariner Fast bound in chains of sleep, I first assail him ; This knotty club shall give the unerring blow ; You follow on, and boldly second me ! Thus — comrades — thus ! — that stroke has crushed his brain ! 368 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 He groans! he dies? — now bear him to the summit Of yon' tall cliff, and having thence dislodged him, Uninterrupted we shall dig his riches. Heirs to the wealth and plenty of his cave. Second Mariner ( conscience struck ) 'Tis done, 'tis done — the hermit is no more: — Say nothing of this deed, ye hills, ye trees. But let eternal silence brood upon it. O, base, base, base ! ! — why was I made a man, And not some prowling monster of the forest. The worst vile work of Nature's journeymen ! Ye lunar shadows! no resemblance yield From craggy pointed rock, or leafy bush. That may remind me of this murdered hermit. Third Mariner Deep have I fathomed in his cave, but find No glimpse of gold — we surely did mistake him : His treasures were not of that glittering kind ; Dryed fruits, and one good book; his goats, his kids. These were, indeed, his riches — Now, hermit, now I feel remorse within me : While here we stay thy shadow will torment us. From every haunted rock, or bush, projecting; And when from hence we go, that too shall follow. Crying — Perdition on these fiends from Europe, Whose bloody malice, or whose thirst for gold, Fresh from the slaughter-house of innocence Unpeoples isles, and lays the world in ruin ! 1790] THE INDIAN BURYING GROUND 369 THE INDIAN BURYING GROUND ^ In spite of all the learned have said, I still my old opinion keep ; The posture, that we give the dead. Points out the soul's eternal sleep. Not so the ancients of these lands — The Indian, when from life released. Again is seated with his friends, And shares again the joyous feast.* His imaged birds, and painted bowl. And venison, for a journey dressed. Bespeak the nature of the soul. Activity, that knows no rest. His bow, for action ready bent, And arrows, with a head of stone, Can only mean that life is spent. And not the old ideas gone. Thou, stranger, that shalt come this way, No fraud upon the dead commit — Observe the swelling turf, and say They do not lie, but here they sit. * The North American Indians bury their dead in a sitting posture ; decorating the corpse with wampum, the images of birds, quadrupeds, &c : And (if that of a warrior) with bows, arrows, tomhawks, and other mili- tary weapons." — Freneau's note. 'In the 1788 edition this has the title "Lines Occasioned by a Visit to an old Indian Burying Ground." 37° POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Here still a lofty rock remains, On which the curious eye may trace ( Now wasted, half, by wearing rains ) The fancies of a ruder race. Here still an aged elm aspires. Beneath whose far-projecting shade (And which the shepherd still admires ) The children of the forest played ! There oft a restless Indian queen ( Pale Shebah, with her braided hair ) And many a barbarous form is seen To chide the man that lingers there. By midnight moons, o'er moistening dews; In habit for the chase arrayed, The hunter still the deer pursues. The hunter and the deer, a shade!' And long shall timorous fancy see The painted chief, and pointed spear. And Reason's self shall bow the knee To shadows and delusions here. 'Campbell borrowed this line for his poem " O'Connor's Child." Stanza IV of the poem begins as follows : ' ' Bright as the bow that spans the storm In Erin's yellow vesture clad, A son of light — a lovely form He comes and makes her glad ; Now on the grass-green turf he sits, His tassel'd horn beside him laid ; Now o'er the hills in chase he flits, The hunter and the deer a shade ! " 179°] THE INDIAN STUDENT 371 THE INDIAN STUDENT Or, Force of Nature 1 From Susquehanna's farthest springs Where savage tribes pursue their game, ( His blanket tied with yellow strings,) A shepherd of the forest came. Not long before, a wandering priest Expressed his wish, with visage sad — " Ah, why (he cried) in Satan's waste, " Ah, why detain so fine a lad? " In white-man's land there stands a town " Where learning may be purchased low — " Exchange his blanket for a gown, " And let the lad to college go." — From long debate the council rose. And viewing Shalum's tricks with joy To Cambridge Hall,* o'er wastes of snows, They sent the copper-coloured boy. One generous chief a bow supplied, This gave a shaft, and that a skin ; The feathers, in vermillion dyed. Himself did from a turkey win : * Harvard College, at Cambridge in Massachusetts. — Freneau's note, edi- tion iy88. ^ The 1788 version bore under the title the motto ; ' ' Rura mihi et rigui placeant in valliius amnes ; Flumina amem, sylvasque inglorius.'" ViRG. Georg. II. V. 483. 372 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Thus dressed so gay, he took his way O'er barren hills, alone, alone ! His guide a star, he wandered far. His pillow every night a stone. At last he came, with foot so lame. Where learned men talk heathen Greek, And Hebrew lore is gabbled o'er, To please the Muses, — twice a week. Awhile he writ, awhile he read, Awhile he conned their grammar rules — ( An Indian savage so well bred Great credit promised to the schools.) Some thought he would in law excel, Some said in physic he would shine ; And one that knew him, passing well, Beheld, in him, a sound Divine. But those of more discerning eye Even then could other prospects show. And saw him lay his Virgil by To wander with his dearer bow. The tedious hours of study spent. The heavy-moulded lecture done, He to the woods a hunting went. Through lonely wastes he walked, he run. No mystic wonders fired his mind ; He sought to gain no learned degree. But only sense enough to find The squirrel in the hollow tree. 179° THE INDIAN STUDENT 373 The shady bank, the purling stream, The woody wild his heart possessed. The dewy lawn, his morning dream In fancy's gayest colours dressed. " And why (he cried) did I forsake ' ' My native wood for gloomy walls ; " The silver stream, the limpid lake " For musty books and college halls. " A little could my wants supply — " Can wealth and honour give me more ; " Or, will the sylvan god deny " The humble treat he gave before? " Let seraphs gain the bright abode, " And heaven's sublimest mansions see — " I only bow to Nature's God — " The land of shades will do for me. " These dreadful secrets of the sky " Alarm my soul with chilling fear — " Do planets in their orbits fly, " And is the earth, indeed, a sphere? ' Let planets still their course pursue, ' And comets to the centre run — ' ' In Him my faithful friend I view, " The image of my God — the Sun. " Where Nature's ancient forests grow, " And mingled laurel never fades, " My heart is fixed ; — and I must go " To die among my native shades." 374 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 He spoke, and to the western springs, ( His gown discharged, his money spent, His blanket tied with yellow strings,) The shepherd of the forest went.* THE MAN OF NINETY " To yonder boughs that spread so wide, Beneath whose shade soft waters glide, Once more I take the well known way ; With feeble step and tottering knee I sigh to reach my white-oak tree. Where rosy health was wont to play. If to the shades, consuming slow. The shadow of myself, I go. When I am gone, wilt thou remain ! — From dust you rose, and grew like me ; I man became, and you a tree. Both natives of one grassy plain. How much alike ; yet not the same ! - — You could no kind protector claim ; Alone you stood, to chance resigned : When winter came, with blustering sky. You feared its blasts — and so did I, And for warm suns in secret pined. ■^ The 1788 version has this additional stanza : ' ' Returning to this rural reign The Indians welcom'd him with joy ; The council took him home again, And bless'd the copper-colour'd boy.'' V" 1790] THE MAN OF NINETY 375 When vernal suns began to glow You felt returning vigour flow ; Which once a year new leaves supplied ; Like you, fine days I wished to see, And May was a sweet month to me, But when November came — I sighed! If through your bark some ruffian arm A mark impressed, you took the alarm. And tears awhile I saw descend; Till Nature's kind maternal aid A plaister on your bruises laid, And bade your trickling sorrows end. Like you, I feared the lightning's stroke, Whose flame dissolves the strength of oak, And ends at once this mortal dream ; — You saw, with grief, the soil decay That from your roots was torn away ; You sighed — and cursed the stream. With borrowed earth, and busy spade. Around your roots new life I laid. While joy revived in every vein ; ( The care of man shall life impart ) — Though Nature owns the aid of art, No art, immortal, makes their reign. How much alike our fortune — say — Yet, why must I so soon decay When thou hast scarcely reached thy prime — Erect and tall, you joyous stand ; The staff of age has found my hand, That guides me to the grave of time. 376 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Could I, fair tree, like you, resign, And banish all those fears of mine. Grey hairs would be no cause of grief ; Your blossoms die, but you remain. Your fruit lies scattered o'er the plain — Learn wisdom from the falling leaf. As you survive, by heaven's decree. Let withered flowers be thrown on me Sad compensation for my doom. While winter greens and withering pines And cedars dark, and barren vines, Point out the lonely tomb. The enlivening sun, that burns so bright, Ne'er had a noon without a night. So Life and Death agree ; The joys of man by years are broke " — 'Twas thus the man of ninety spoke. Then rose, and left his tree. lALCina's enchanted island In These fair fields unfading flowers abound. Here purple roses cloathe the enchanted ground ; Here, to the sun expand the lillies pale Fann'd by the sweet breath of the western gale : Here, fearless hares through dark recesses stray. And troops of leverets take the woodland way, Here stately stags, with branching horns, appear. And rove unsought for, unassail'd by fear: V ' Published in the 1788 edition under the title "Ariosto's Description of the Gardens in Alcina's Inchanted Island. From the Italian." Text from the edition of 1795. \ 1790] HORACE, LIB. I. ODE 15 377 Unknown the snare, the huntsman's fatal dart That wings the death of torture to the heart. In social bands they trace their sylvan reign, Chew the rich cud, or graze along the plain. In these gay shades the nimble deer delight, While herds of goats ascend the rocky height, Browse on the shrubs that shade the vale below, And crop the plants, that there profusely grow. HORACE, LIB. I. ODE 15 1 Nereus prophesies the destruction of Troy' As 'cross the deep to Priam's shore The Trojan prince bright Helen bore, Old Nereus hushed each noisy breeze And calmed the tumults of the seas. Then, musing on the traitor's doom, Thus he foretold the woes to come ; " Ah why remove, mistaken swain, ' ' The prize that Greece shall seize ^ again ! " With omens sad, you sail along; " And Europe shall resent the wrong, " Conspire to seize your bride away, " And Priam's town in ashes lay. " Alas! what toils and deaths combined! " What hosts of men and horses joined! — " Bold Pallas now prepares her shield, " And arms her chariot for the field. 1 First found in the 1788 edition ; text from the 1809 edition. ' The 1788 edition had the following line after the title : " Pastor quum traheretfer freta navibus, etc." ' " Fetch." — Ed. 1788. 378 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Can you with heavenly forms engage, A goddess kindling into rage ; Who ne'er have dared a mortal foe And wars, alone, of Venus, know. In vain you dress your flowing hair. And songs, to aid the harp, prepare ; The harp, that sung to female ears, Shall fail when Mars and Greece appears. n vain will you bewail your bride. And meanly in her chamber hide. In hopes to shun, when lingering jMhu meaniy in ner cnamuer niue. In hopes to shun, when lingering there. The massy dart, and Cretan spear. In vain will you, with quickening pace. Avoid fierce Ajax in the chace; For late those locks, that please the eye. In dust and death must scattered lie. Do you not see Ulysses, too. The sage that brings your nation low : And Nestor from the land of Pyle — Chiefs skilled in arms and martial toil. Dost thou not see bold Teucer here, And him — no tardy chariotteer ; Who both pursue with eager force. And both controul the thundering horse. Thou, to thy grief, shalt Merion know, And Tydeus' son shall prove thy foe. Who wastes your realms with sword and fire; Tydides, greater than his sire. 179°] A SUBSCRIPTION PRAYER 379 " Like timorous deer, prepared to fly " When hungry wolves are passing by, " No more the herbs their steps detain, " They quit their pastures, and the plain: " So you from his triumphant arms " Will fly, with all your female charms ; " Can deeds, like these, your valour prove, " Was this your promise to your love? " Achilles' wrath shall but delay " Your ruin to a later day — " The Trojan matrons then may mourn, " And Troy by Grecian vengeance burn." A SUBSCRIPTION PRAYERS For defraying the burial expences of an Old Soldier Ah ! Give him a tomb, for a tomb is his due, A shilling, great man, is a trifle to You : If you give him a tomb, that his name may survive, May Fortune attend you, and help you to thrive: May you always have something to praise and approve, And the pleasure to dream of the girl that you love. Prepar'd for the worst, but enjoying the best. With a girl and a bottle he feather'd his nest : Half sick of the world, in the wane of his life, To hasten his exit, he took him a wife. But, finding his fair one a damnable elf, He grounded his arms — and took leave of himself. ^Entitled in 1788, "Patrick Mulhoni. A Subscription Prayer. Dale obolum Belisario.'' Text from the 1795 edition. 38o POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 EPISTLE TO THE PATRIOTIC FARMERS Thus, while new laws the stubborn States reclaim, And most for pensions, some for honours aim, You, who first aimed a shaft at George's crown, And marked the way to conquest and renown. While from the vain, the lofty, and the proud. Retiring to your groves, you shun the crowd, — Can toils, like yours, in cold oblivion end, Columbia's patriot, and her earliest friend ? Blest, doubly blest, from public scenes retired. Where public welfare all your bosom fired ; Your life's best days in studious labours past Your deeds of virtue make your bliss at last ; When all things fail, the soul must rest on these ! — May heaven restore you to your favourite trees, And calm content, best lot to man assigned. Be heaven's reward to your exalted mind. When her base projects you beheld, with pain, And early doomed an end to Britain's reign. When rising nobly in a generous cause (Sworn foe to tyrants and imported laws) Thou Dickinson ! the patriot and the sage. How much we owed to your convincing page : * * The Farmer's Letters, and others of his truly valuable writings. — Freneau's note. ^ John Dickinson (1732-1808), a lawyer in Philadelphia, and a member of the Colonial Congress of 1765 and of the Continental Congress of l^^^, first came into wide prominence in 1767 through the publication of his series of papers entitled ' ' Letters from a Pennsylvania Farmer to the Inhabitants of the British Colonies.'' From this time until his death he was a vigorous and voluminous publicist. His influence upon his times was very great. The text of the poem is from the 1809 edition. 179°] PALEMON TO LAVINIA 38 1 That page — the check of tyrants and of knaves, Gave birth to heroes who had else been slaves, Who, taught by you, denied a monarch's sway ; And if they brought him low — you planned the way. Though in this glare of pomp you take no part Still must your conduct warm each generous heart: What, though you shun the patriot vain and loud. While hosts neglect, that once to merit bowed, Shun those gay scenes, were recent laurels grow. The mad Procession, and the painted show ; In days to come, when pomp and pride resign, Who would not change his proudest wreathes for thine, In fame's fair fields such well-earned honours share. And Dickinson confess unrivalled there! [1788] PALEMON TO LAVINIA ^ [Written 1788] " Torn from your arms by rude relentless hands, No tears recall our lost Alcander home. Who, far removed by fierce piratic bands, Finds in a foreign soil * an early tomb : Well may you grieve ! — his race so early done, No years he reached, to urge some task sublime ;— No conquests made, no brilliant action won, No verse to bear him through the gulph of time. Amidst these shades and heart depressing glooms. What comfort shall we give — what can we say ; In her distress shall we discourse on tombs. Or tell Lavinia, 'tis a cloudy day? * Algiers, tlie piratical city on the coast of Barbary. — Freneau's note. ^ First published in the 1795 edition. Text from the edition of 1809. 382 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 The pensive priest accosts her with a sigh : With movement slow, in sable robes he came — But why so sad, philosopher, ah, why, Since from the tomb alone all bliss we claim? By pining care and wakeful sorrow worn, While silent griefs her downcast heart engage, She saw me go, and saw me thrice return To pen my musings on some vacant page. To learning's store, to Galen's science bred, I saw Orestes rove through all the plain : His pensive step no friendly genius led To find one plant that might relieve your pain ! Say, do I wake? — or are your woes a dream! Depart, dread vision! — waft me far away: Seek me no more by this sky painted stream That glides, unconscious, to the Indian bay. Alcander ! — ah ! — what tears for thee must flow — What doom awaits the wretch that tortured thee! May never flower in his cursed garden blow. May never fruit enrich his hated tree : May that fine spark, which Nature lent to man, Reason, be thou extinguished in his brain ; Sudden his doom, contracted be his span. Ne'er to exist, or spring from dust again. May no kind genius save his step from harms : Where'er he sails, may tempests rend the sea ; May never maiden yield to him her charms. Nor prattling infdnt hang upon his knee ! i79°] A NEWSMAN'S ADDRESS 383 Retire, retire, forget the inhuman shore : Dark is the sun, when woes like these dismay ; Resign your groves, and view with joy no more The fragrant orange, and the floweret gay." A NEWSMAN'S ADDRESS ^ Though past events are hourly read, The various labours of the dead. In vain their story we recall. The rise of empires, or the fall ; Our modern men, a busy crew, Must, in their turn, have something new. By moralists we have been told That " Time himself in time grows old; " The seasons change, the moons decay, " The sun shines weaker every day, " Justice is from the world withdrawn, " Virtue and friendship almost gone, " Religion fails (the clergy shew) " And man, alas, must vanish too." Let others such opinions hold, ( Since grumbling has been always old ; ) All Nature must decay, 'tis true. But Nature shall her face renew, Her travels in a circle make. Freeze but to thaw, sleep but to wake. Die but to live, and live to die, In summer smile, in autumn sigh, ' I have not been able to find the paper which first used these New Year's verses. The 1788 edition gave them the title " New Year's Verses for 1788. [Supposed to be written by the Printer's lad, who supplies the customers with his weekly paper.] " Text from the edition of 1795. 384 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Resume the garb that once she wore, Repeat the words she said before, Bow down with age, or, fresh and gay. Change, only to prevent decay. As up and down, with weary feet, I travel each fatiguing street. Meeting the frowns of party men. Foes to the freedom of the pen. And to your doors our sheets convey — I sometimes think I hear you say, " Ah, were it not for what he brings, ( This messenger of many things ) We should be in a sorry plight; The wars of Europe out of sight, No paragraphs of home affairs To tell us how the fabric wears Which Freedom built on Virtue's plan, And Virtue only can maintain." But something further you pretend, — From want of money, heaven defend ! Leave that to those who sleep in sheds. Or on the pavement make their beds. Who clean the streets, or carry news. Repair old coats, or cobble shoes — Of every ill with which we're curs'd This want of money is the worst : This was the curse that fell on Cain, The vengeance for a brother slain : For this he quit his native sod, Retreated to the land of Nod, And, in the torture of despair, Turn'd poet, pimp, or newsman there — Divines have labour'd in the dark To find the meaning of his mark : 1790] ON THE PROSPECT OF A REVOLUTION 385 How many idle things they wrote 'Twas nothing but a ragged coat. Should money, now, be scarce with you, With me, alas, 'tis nothing new ! We news-men always are in need, ( So Beer and Bacchus have decreed ) And still your bounty shall implore Till — printing presses are no more ! Did we not conjure up our strain The year might come and go again. Seasons Advance, and moons decay, And life itself make haste away. And news-men only vex their brains To have their labour for their pains — Such usage I may iind, 'tis true, But then it would be — something new ! Con the prospect of a revolution in FRANCE 1] '^ Now, at the feast they plan the fall of Troy ; " The stern debate Atrides hears with joy." — Horn. Odys. Borne on the wings of time another year Sprung from the past, begins its proud career : From that bright spark which first illumed these lands, See Europe kindling, as the blaze expands. Each gloomy tyrant, sworn to chain the mind. Presumes no more to trample on mankind : Even potent Louis trembles on his throne. The generous prince who made our cause his own, \ ^ This appeared first in the Daily Advertiser of New York, March 7, 1790, It is the first of Freneau's series of poems on the French Revolution and its message. Text from the edition of 1809.I 386 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 More equal rights his injured subjects claim, No more a country's strength — that country's shame ; Fame starts astonished at such prizes won, And rashness wonders how the work was done. Flushed with new life, and brightening at the view, Genius, triumphant, moulds the world anew ; To these far climes in swift succession moves Each art that Reason owns and sense approves. What though his age is bounded to a span Time sheds a conscious dignity on man. Some happier breath his rising passion swells. Some kinder genius his bold arm impels. Dull superstition from the world retires. Disheartened zealots haste to quench their fires ; One equal rule o'er twelve * vast States extends, Europe and Asia join to be our friends. Our active flag in every clime displayed Counts stars on colours that shall never fade ; A far famed chief o'er this vast whole presides Whose motto Honor is — whom Virtue guides His walks forsaken in Virginia's groves Applauding thousands bow where'er He moves, Who laid the basis of this Empire sure Where public faith should public peace secure. Still may she rise, exalted in her aims, And boast to every age her patriot names. To distant climes extend her gentle sway, While choice — not force — bids every heart obey : Ne'er may she fail when Liberty implores, Nor want true valour to defend her shores, 'Till Europe, humbled, greets our western wave, And owns an equal — whom she wished a slave. * At this time, Rhode-Island was not a member of the general Confedera- tion of the American States. [1788] — Freneau's note. 179°] TO A DOG 387 TO A DOG^ Occasioned by putting him on shore at the Island of Sapola, for theft Since Nature taught you, Tray, to be a thief. What blame have you, for working at your trade? What if you stole a handsome round of beef ; Theft, in your code of laws, no crime was made. The ten commandments you had never read. Nor did it ever enter in your head : But art and Nature, careful to conceal, Disclos'd not even the Eighth — Thou shalt not steal. Then to the green wood, caitiff, haste away : There take your chance to live — for Truth must say, We have no right, for theft, to hang up Tray. TO LYDIA^ " Tu frocul a f atria, ah dura! inculta deserta. Me sine, sola videbis ViRG. ECLOG. Thus, safe arrived, she greets the strand. And leaves her pilot for the land ; But Lydia, why to deserts roam. And thus forsake your floating home ! 1 First published in th& National Gazette, Nov. 3> I79i- Sapola Island is one of the sea-islands of Mcintosh County, Georgia, forty-two miles southwest of Savannah. The somewhat unusual proceeding of putting a worthless dog on shore, instead of the more common expedient of killing him at once, is only another evidence of the poet's kindly heart. Text from the edition of 1809. ^ There is a discrepancy in the dates given to this poem. It was pub- lished in the Freeman's Journal, Sept. 3, 1788, with the preliminary remarks : 388 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 To what fond care shall I resign The bosom, that must ne'er be mine : With lips, that glow beyond all art. Oh ! how shall 1 consent to part ! — Long may you live, secure from woes, Late dying, meet a calm repose. And flowers, that in profusion grow. Bloom round your steps, where'er you go. On you all eyes delight to gaze, All tongues are lavish in your praise ; With you no beauty can compare. Nor Georgia boast one flower so fair. Could I, fair girl, transmit this page, A present, to some future age. You should through every poem shine, You, be adored in every line : From Jersey coasts too loth to sail. Sighing, she left her native vale ; Borne on a stream that met the main, Homeward she looked, and looked again. The gales that blew from off the land Most wantonly her bosom fanned, And, while around that heaven they strove. Each whispering zephyr owned his love. ' ' The following copy of verses came accidentally into my hands. I am told that it was written by Capt. Freneau and addressed to a young Quaker lady who went passenger in his vessel to Georgia to reside in the western parts of that State. From the New York Daily Advertiser." It was r^rinted in the 1795 edition, and in the edition of 1809, where it has the note : " Miss Lydia Morris, a young quaker lady, on her landing from the sloop Industry, at Savannah, in Georgia, December 30th. i8o6." I have followed the 1809 text. 179°] TO LYDIA 389 As o'er the seas, with you I strayed, The hostile winds our course delayed. But, proud to waft a charge so fair, To me were kind — and held you there. I could not grieve, when you complained That adverse gales our barque detained Where foaming seas to mountains grow, From gulphs of death, concealed below. When travelling o'er that lonely wave To me your feverish hand you gave. And sighing, bade me tell you, true, What lands again would rise to view ! When night came on, with blustering gale. You feared the tempest would prevail, And anxious asked, if I was sure That on those depths we sailed secure ? Delighted with a face so fair, I half forgot my weight of care, The dangerous shoal, that seaward runs, Encircled moons, and shrouded suns. With timorous heart and tearful eyes. You saw the deep Atlantic rise. Saw wintry clouds their storms prepare, And wept, to find no safety there. Throughout the long December's night, ( While still your lamp was burning bright ) To dawn of day from evening's close My pensive girl found no repose. 39° POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Then now, at length arrived from sea, Consent, fair nymph, to stay with me — The barque — still faithful to her freight, Shall still on your direction wait. Such charms as your's all hearts engage ! Sweet subject of my glowing page. Consent, before my Argo roves To sun-burnt isles and savage groves. When sultry suns around us glare. Your poet, still, with fondest care, To cast a shade, some folds will spread Of his coarse topsails o'er your head. When round the barque the billowy wave And howling winds, tempestuous, rave, By caution ruled, the helm shall guide Safely, that Argo o'er the tide. Whene'er some female fears prevail, At your request we'll reef the sail. Disarm the gales that rudely blow. And bring the loftiest canvas low. When rising to harass the main Old Boreas drives his blustering train. Still shall they see, as they pursue. Each tender care employed for you. To all your questions — every sigh! I still will make a kind reply ; Give all you ask, each whim allow. And change my style to thee and thou. 179°] TO CYNTHIA If verse can life to beauty give, For ages I can make you live ; Beyond the stars, triumphant, rise, While Cynthia's tomb neglected lies : Upon that face of mortal clay I will such lively colours lay. That years to come shall join to seek All beauty from your modest cheek. Then, Lydia, why our bark forsake ; The road to western deserts take ? That lip — on which hung half my bliss. Some savage, now, will bend to kiss; Some rustic soon, with fierce attack, May force his arms about that neck; And you, perhaps, will weeping come To seek — in vain — your floating home! 391 TO CYNTHIA^ Through Jersey^ groves, a wandering stream That still its wonted music keeps. Inspires no more my evening dream, Where Cynthia, in retirement, sleeps. Sweet murmuring stream ! how blest art thou To kiss the bank where she resides, Where Nature decks the beechen bough That trembles o'er your shallow tides. ^ This poem appeared in the Freematis Journal, Jan. 29, 1789, under the title: "Stanzas written at Baltimore in Maryland, Jan. 1789, by Capt. P. Freneau.'' It was republished in the Daily Advertiser, Jan. 5, 1790, under the title "To Harriot." It was used in the editions of 1795 and i8og. The text follows the latter edition. *" Monmouth's." — Ed. i^Sg. " Morven's vale." — Ed. ijgo. 392 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 The cypress-tree on Hermit's height, Where Love his soft addresses paid By Luna's pale reflected light — No longer charms me to its shade ! To me, alas ! so far removed, What raptures, once, that scenery gave, Ere wandering yet from all I loved, I sought a deeper, drearier wave. Your absent charms my thoughts employ : I sigh to think how sweet you sung. And half adore the painted toy That near my careless heart you hung. Now, fettered fast in icy fields. In vain we loose the sleeping sail ; The frozen wave no longer yields. And useless blows the favouring gale. Yet, still in hopes of vernal showers. And breezes, moist with morning dew, I pass the lingering, lazy hours. Reflecting on the spring — and you. AMANDA'S COMPLAINT 1 " In shades we live, in shades we die. Cool zephyrs breathe for our repose ; In shallow streams we love to play. But, cruel you, that praise deny Which you might give, and nothing lose. And then pursue your destined way. 'First published in the New York Daily Advertiser, Sept. 7, 1790, under the title, "Written at Cape Hatteras," and dated June, 1789. The last line 179°] AMANDA'S COMPLAINT 393 Ungrateful man ! when anchoring here, On shore you came to beg relief ; I shewed you where the fig trees grow, And wandering with you, free from fear. To hear the story of your grief I pointed where the cisterns are. And would have shewn, if streams did flow ! The Men that spurned your ragged crew, So long exposed to Neptune's rage — I told them what your sufferings were : Told them that landsmen never knew The trade that hastens frozen age. The life that brings the brow of care. A lamb, the loveliest of the flock. To your disheartened crew I gave, Life to sustain on yonder deep — Sighing, I cast one sorrowing look When on the margin of the main You slew the loveliest of my sheep. Along your native northern shores. From cape to cape, where'er you stray. Of all the nymphs that catch the eye, They scarce can be excelled by our's — Not in more fragrant shades they play ; — The summer suns come not so nigh. Confess your fault, mistaken swain. And own, at least, our equal charms — of this version reads, " Hatteras maidens are not fair." It was republished in the National Gazette, March ig, 1792, under the title " Tormentina's Com- plaint,'" and dated "Castle Island, Bermuda, Jan. 20, 1789." In the 1809 edition, the text of which I have followed, it was grouped with the Amanda poems. 394 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Have you no flowers of ruddy hue, That please your fancy on the plain ? — Would you not guard those flowers from harm, If Nature's self each picture drew ! Vain are your sighs — in vain your tears, Your barque must still at anchor lay, And you remain a slave to care ; A thousand doubts, a thousand fears, 'Till what you said, you shall unsay, Bermudian damsels are not fair ! HATTERAS^ In fathoms five the anchor gone; While here we furl the sail. No longer vainly labouring on Against the western gale : While here thy bare and barren cliffs, O Hatteras, I survey. And shallow grounds and broken reefs — What shall console my stay ! The dangerous shoal, that breaks the wave In columns to the sky; The tempests black, that hourly rave. Portend all danger nigh : ^ Text from the edition of 1795. The poem seems to have appeared first in the Freeman's Journal of Dec. 9, 1789, with the title " The Pilot of Hat- teras, by Capt. Philip Freneau." Affixed was the note: "This celebrated genius, the Peter Pindar of America, is now a master of a packet which runs between New York, Philadelphia, and Charleston. His tuneful numbers during the war did much to soften the disagreeable sensations which a state of warfare so generally occasions." The poem was reprinted in the National Gazette of Jan. 16, 1792, with the note, " Written off the Cape, July, 1789, on a voyage to South Carolina, being delayed sixteen days with strong gales ahead." The poem was omitted from the edition of 1809. 179°] HATTERAS 395 Sad are my dreams on ocean's verge ! The Atlantic round me flows, Upon whose ancient angry surge No traveller finds repose ! The Pilot comes! — from yonder sands He shoves his barque, so frail. And hurrying on, with busy hands. Employs both oar and sail. Beneath this rude unsettled sky Condemn'd to pass his years, No other shores delight his eye. No foe alarms his fears. In depths of woods his hut he builds, Devoted to repose, And, blooming, in the barren wilds His little garden grows : His wedded nymph, of sallow hue, No mingled colours grace — For her he toils — to her is true. The captive of her face. Kind Nature here, to make him blest. No quiet harbour plann'd ; And poverty — his constant guest, Restrains the pirate band : His hopes are all in yonder flock. Or some few hives of bees. Except, when bound for Ocracock,* Some gliding barque he sees : *A11 vessels from the northward that pass within Hatteras Shoals, bound for Newbern and other places on Palmico Sound, commonly in favour- able weather take a Hatteras pilot to conduct them over the dangerous bar of Ocracock, eleven leagues north southwest of the cape. — Freneau's note. 396 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 His Catharine then he quits with grief, And spreads his tottering sails, While, waving high her handkerchief. Her commodore she hails : She grieves, and fears to see no more The sail that now forsakes. From Hatteras' sands to banks of Core Such tedious journies takes! Fond nymph ! your sighs are heav'd in vain ; Restrain those idle fears : Can you — that should relieve his pain — Thus kill him with your tears ! Can absence, thus, beget regard. Or does it only seem ? He comes to meet a wandering bard That steers for Ashley's stream. Though disappointed in his views, Not joyless will we part; Nor shall the god of mirth refuse The Balsam of the Heart: No niggard key shall lock up Joy — I'll give him half my store Will he but half his skill employ To guard us from your shore. Should eastern gales once more awake, No safety will be here : — Alack! I see the billows break, Wild tempests hovering near: Before the bellowing seas begin Their conflict with the land. Go, pilot, go — your Catharine join. That waits on yonder sand. I79°] ST. CATHARINE'S 397 ST. CATHARINE'S*! He that would wish to rove a while In forests green and gay, From Charleston bar to Catharine's isle Might sigh to find the way ! What scenes on every side appear, What pleasure strikes the mind, From Folly's train, thus wandering far, To leave the world behind. The music of these savage groves In simple accents swells, And freely here, their sylvan loves The feather'd nation tells ; The panting deer through mingled?shades Of oaks forever green The vegetable world invades, That skirts the watery scene. Thou sailor, now exploring far The broad Atlantic wave, Crowd all your canvas, gallant tar, Since Neptune never gave On barren seas so fine a view As here allures the eye, Gay, verdant scenes that Nature drew In colours from the sky. * An island on the sea-coast of Georgia. — Freneatis note. ^ Text from the edition of 1795. The poem seems to have appeared first in the National Gazette of Feb. i6, 1792, under the title, " Lines written at St. Catharine's Island on the coast of Georgia, November, 1789." The poem is not found in the 1809 edition. 398 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 Ye western winds ! awhile delay To swell the expecting sail — Who would not here, a hermit, stay In yonder fragrant vale, Could he engage what few can find, That coy, unwilling guest (All avarice banish'd from the mind) Contentment, in the breast! TO MR. CHURCHMAN 1 On the rejection of his Petition to the Congress of the United States, to enable him to make a voyage to Baffin's Bay, to ascertain the truth of his Variation Chart Churchman ! methinks your scheme is rather wild Of travelling to the pole Where icy billows roll, And pork and pease Are said to freeze Even at the instant they are boil'd. Rejected, now, your humble, ardent prayer For cash, to speed your way To Baffin's frozen bay, 'Tis your own fault if you repine ! You should have mention'd some rich golden mine — Not Variation Charts, that claim no care. ^ This poem is found only in the 1795 edition. The Journal of the House of Representatives, ist Congress, ist Session, April 20, 1789, notes the inves- tigations of John Churchman in regard to the magnetic needle and the determination of longitude by his method and grants to Churchman the right of exclusive use of his invention. Unfavorable report on his petition for aid to enable him to make a voyage to Baffin's Bay to pursue his investigations of the causes of the variation of the magnetic needle. I790] THE PROCESSION TO SYLVANIA 399 Avarice, alone, would sooner bid you go Than all the inducements Art can shew : The men, whom you petition for some dollars, Tho' willing to be thought prodigious scholars. Yet care as much for variation charts As king of spades, and knave of hearts. Churchman ! 'tis best to quit this vain pursuit This Variation is a common thing ! Rather attach yourself to Caesar's wing — You'll find it better — better, sir, by half. To sooth Pomposo's ear — or make him laugh: So shall you, mounted in a coach and six. Ride envoy to the country of the Creeks — So shall you visit Europe's gaudy courts. And see the polish'd world, at public charge ; Return — and spend your life in sports, Be air'd in coach, and sail'd in barge : — Pursue this track, thou man of curious soul. Nor, like a whale, go puffing to the pole. THE PROCESSION TO SYLVANIA ^ In Life's dull round, how often folks are cross'd. Their projects spoil'd, their sayings misapplied ; Some friends in woods and some in oceans lost. Some doom'd to walk on foot, while others ride. 'Published in the Daily Advertiser, Dec. 30, 1789, with this introduc- tion : ' ' The seat of government in South Carolina is removed by act of Assembly from Charleston to Columbia, a dismal place in the centre of that state consisting of only four houses. This removal is by many in Carolina considered as premature and amongst other animadversions has occasioned the two following poetic pieces which from several circumstances we conclude to have been written by Mr. Freneau." The title of the poem was originally " The Procession to Columbia." It was published only in the 1795 edition. 400 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 But, now, let preachers moralize in verse, While I to yonder caravan attend That all prepar'd, like some slow moving herse Begins its journey to an Indian land ; Bound for Sylvania! — sad, disheartening town, When thou art nam'd how many a nymph will sigh. Sigh, lest her sweet-heart should return a clown With grizly homespun coat, long beard, and pumpkin pye. This caravan with wondrous geer is stow'd. All sorts of moveables — straw beds, and cradles. Old records, salted fish, make up their load. With kegs of brandy, frying pans, and ladles. A pensive Printer in a one-horse chair ( Dragg'd slowly on by sullen sleepy steed, With some ill-fated squires) brings up the rear. Contriving future news for folks to read. To guard the whole, a trusty knight appears. With chosen men, to keep the wolves at bay : They march — and lo! Belinda all in tears That bears must hug instead of ladies gay. '^ 1790] THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 401 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS » From his obscure abode, On many a tiresome road The pilgrim, musing, took his way : Through dark and dismal groves Where the sad turtle loves To pass the night, and kill the day. In an obscure retreat, I saw the pilgrim greet, A barren soil and dreary town ; — Thy streets be-gloomed with trees With pain the traveller sees, Sylvania, barren of renown. — What can console him there ? — Not even a house of prayer With glittering spire is seen to rise — No nymphs in gaudy trim Will there be seen by him ; — No music, sermons, balls, or pigeon pies. Dull, melancholy streams, Dutch politics and schemes. Owls screeching in the empty street — Wolves howling at the doors — Bears breaking into stores; These make the picture of the town — complete. iJn the Daily Advertiser oi Dec. 30, 1789, this bore the title, " A View of Columbia," and the opening line was "From Charleston's gay abode." In, the 1795 edition the title was changed to " Lysander's Retreat." Text '■■om the edition of 1809. 402 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [jySi SANGRADO'S EXPEDITION TO SYLVANIA^ Tir'd of his journey o'er a sandy waste, Sangrado to Sylvania^ came at last: A bear-skin coat was round his carcase roll'd, Shivering with northern winds, ^ that blew so cold : Dark was the night — much for his shins he fear'd, For not on» lamp in all the town appear'd, Twelve was the hour — the citizens, in bed. Slept sound — of bears and wolves no more in dread; No city-guards, no watchmen hove in sight, No chyming bell sung out the time of night ; But foggy blasts their wintry music blew Through shabby trees that round the court-house * grew ; At length, alighting at one scurvy dome, He knock'd — and hop'd the people were at home. — Ho ! — ( cry'd the man within ) ho ! who are you ? — What ! heigh ! — from Cambria ? ° — have you nothing new ? — Sang'rado Nothing at all — the times are shameful bad ; Money at ten per cent — hard to be had : 'Published in the Daily Advertiser, Feb. 5, 1790, under the title "A Columbian Dialogue from the Charleston Gazette, supposed to have been written by Capt. Freneau." Text from the 1795 edition. '' " Columbia." — Ed. ifgo. ' " Shivering with Hobaw winds." — lb. * "The State house."— 7.5. * " Charleston."— /i5. 179°] SANGRADO'S EXPEDITION 403 With apples and potatoes, our dear cousins The northern men, are pouring in by dozens : The French, 'tis said, will soon discharge their king — This, friend, is all I know — and all I bring — Citizen What ! not some oysters, gather'd near the coast, Such as in days of old we lov'd to roast ? Sangrado No, not an oyster — faith, you're in a dream. To think I'd load my little nag with them : We both are weary ; let me in, I pray, Even though you turn us out at break of day. Citizen 'Tis midnight now — return from whence you come — High time all honest people were at home. Sangrado Brother, me thinks my toes are somewhat cold — Unbar your door — if one may be so bold : Wet to the skin, and travelling all the day, I want some rest — open the door, I say! Citizen Open the door, forsooth ! the man is mad : Lodging is not so easy to be had ; It is an article we do not trade in. Nor shall my bed by all the world be laid in. Our very hay-loft is as full as can be — Push off, my friend, and try your luck at Granby. 404 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 THE DISTREST THEATRE*^ Health to the Muse ! — and fill the glass, Heaven grant her soon some better place , Than earthen floor and fabric mean, Where disappointment shades the scene : There as I came, by rumour led, I sighed and almost wished her dead ; Her visage stained with many a tear. No Hallam and no Henry here ! But what could all their art attain ? — When pointed laws the stage restrain The prudent Muse obedience pays To sleepy squires, that damn all plays. Like thieves they hang beyond the town, They shove her off — to please the gown ; — Though Rome and Athens owned it true, The stage might mend our morals too. See, Mopsus all the evening sits O'er bottled beer, that drowns his wits ; Were Plays allowed, he might at least Blush — and no longer act the beast. * Harmony Hall, at Charleston, now demolished. — Freneatis note. ' Published in the National Gazette, Nov. 21, 1791, with the following explanation : ' ' The amusements of the Theatre were some time since prohib- ited within the limits of the City of Charleston by an act of the Legislature of the State of South Carolina. In obedience to this act all subsequent dramatic exhibitions were removed to an obscure building in the City of liberties called Harmony Hall. The following stanzas owe their origin to the above edict." Text from the 1809 edition. 1790] THE DISTREST THEATRE 405 See, Marcia, now from guardian free, Retailing scandal with her tea ; — Might she not come, nor danger fear From Hamlet's sigh, or Juliet's tear. The world but acts the player's part* — (So says the motto of their art) — That world in vice great lengths is gone That fears to see its picture drawn. Mere vulgar actors cannot please ; The streets supply enough of these ; And what can wit or beauty gain When sleepy dullness joins their train ? A State betrays a homely taste, By which the stage is thus disgraced. Where, drest in all the flowers of speech. Dame virtue might her precepts teach. Let but a dancing bear arrive, A pig, that counts you four, or five — And Cato, with his moral strain May strive to mend the world in vain. * Totus Mundus agit Histrionem. — Freneau's note. 4o6 POEMS OF PHILIP FRENEAU [1781 TO MEMMIUS' Whoe'er at Court would hope to cut a dash, He must go loaded with some useful trash, Something, sage Dullness, to prolong your reign ; All fancy — stuff — all ornament is vain! Happy the man who plans, by force of steam To drive his boat twelve knots against the stream ; Still happier he, who, born to build a bridge. Schemes mighty matters on some river's edge : — Such to the world the noblest light impart. The first in genius, and the first in art ! Hence, then, ye bards, from our wise court refrain ; Wiseacres have forestall'd the present reign : "No empty scribblings we endure at court" (Cries Publius, poring o'er a dull Report;) "Nothing but useful projects we require, (Cries a new-fangled, self-important 'squire) "Even Churchman, with his chart, will just but do, " Who to the pole will now all art pursue: " For foreign courts have fail'd our men of song, "And trust me, bards, the Muses went along; ' ' Since that bright morn they stept on board their brig, " No Muses here — no Muses are with pig; "Nor 'till their barque shall heave in sight, once more, " Shall one true Muse grow pregnant on this shore! " ' This poem is unique, as far as I can discover, in the 1795 edition. The reference to steamboats alludes to Fitch, who at that time was experimenting with steam navigation. In 1790 he completed his fourth boat, which during the summer made regular trips from Philadelphia to Burlington, at the rate of eight miles per hour. 1790] TO MEMMIUS 407 Now, had not wayward Fortune fix'd me fast, Firm to a point, that never shall be pass'd ; Did I the smiles of Fortune still pursue. And, Memmius, wish to rise in fame, like you. Were this my scheme, I'd quit at once the sail, And haste to court with compasses and scale, Quit all the hopes the finer arts bestow. The flowers of fancy, and — no fruits that grow; Indulge that powerful something in the scull That makes us wealthy while it keeps us dull. To the best place ensures a certain claim. The road to fortune, and the road to fame. End of Volume II j