The Fall of British Tyranny Part 14

LORD BOSTON. Well, Gentlemen, what are we met here for?

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Who the devil shou'd know, if you don't?--d.a.m.n it, didn't you send for us?

LORD BOSTON. Our late great loss of men has tore up the foundation of our plan, and render'd all further attempts impracticable--'t will be a long time ere we can expect any more reinforcements--and if they should arrive, I'm doubtful of their success.

CLINTON. The provincials are vastly strong, and seem no novices in the art of war; 'tis true we gain'd the hill at last, but of what advantage is it to us?--none--the loss of 1400 as brave men as Britain can boast of, is a melancholy consideration, and must make our most sanguinary friends in England abate of their vigour.

ELBOW ROOM. I never saw or read of any battle equal to it--never was more martial courage display'd, and the provincials, to do the dogs justice, fought like heroes, fought indeed more like devils than men; such carnage and destruction not exceeded by Blenheim, Minden, Fontenoy, Ramillies, Dettingen, the battle of the Boyne, and the late affair of the Spaniards and Algerines--a mere c.o.c.k-fight to it--no laurels there.

MR. CAPER. No, nor triumphs neither--I regret in particular the number of brave officers that fell that day, many of whom were of the first families in England.

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Aye, a d.a.m.n'd affair indeed--many powder'd beaus--pet.i.t maitres--fops--fribbles--skip jacks--macaronies--jack puddings--n.o.blemen's b.a.s.t.a.r.ds and wh.o.r.es' sons fell that day--and my poor marines stood no more chance with 'em than a cat in h.e.l.l without claws.

LORD BOSTON. It can't be help'd, Admiral; what is to be done next?

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Done?--why, what the devil have you done? nothing yet, but eat Paramount's beef, and steal a few Yankee sheep--and that, it seems, is now become a d.a.m.n'd lousy, beggarly trade too, for you hav'n't left yourselves a mouthful to eat.

[_Aside._]

"_Bold at the council board, But cautious in the field, he shunn'd the sword._"

LORD BOSTON. But what can we do, Admiral?

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Do?--why, suck your paws--that's all you're like to get. [_Aside._] But avast, I must bowse taught there, or we shall get to loggerheads soon, we're such d.a.m.n'd fighting fellows.

LORD BOSTON. We must act on the defensive this winter, till reinforcements arrive.

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Defensive? aye, aye--if we can defend our bellies from hunger, and prevent a mutiny and civil war among the small guts there this winter, we shall make a glorious campaign of it, indeed--it will read well in the American Chronicles.

LORD BOSTON. I expect to be recalled this winter, when I shall lay the case before Lord Paramount, and let him know your deplorable situation.

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Aye, do--and lay it behind him too; you've got the weather-gage of us this tack, messmate; but I wish you a good voyage for all--and don't forget to tell him, the poor worms are starving too, having nothing to eat, but half starv'd dead soldiers and the s.h.i.+ps'

bottoms. [_Aside._] A cunning old fox, he's gnaw'd his way handsomely out of the Boston cage--but he'll never be a _wolf_, for all that.

MR. CAPER. I shall desire to be recalled too--I've not been us'd to such fare--and not the least diversion or entertainment of any sort going forward here--I neither can nor will put up with it.

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. I think we're all a parcel of d.a.m.n'd b.o.o.bies for coming three thousand miles upon a wild-goose chase--to perish with cold--starve with hunger--get our brains knock'd out, or be hang'd for sheep-stealing and robbing hen-roosts.

LORD BOSTON. I think, Admiral, you're always grumbling--never satisfied.

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Satisfied? I see no appearance of it--we have been here these twelve hours, scolding upon empty stomachs--you may call it a council of war (and so it is indeed, a war with the guts) or what you will--but I call it a council of famine.

LORD BOSTON. As it's so late, Gentlemen, we'll adjourn the council of war till to-morrow at nine o'clock--I hope you'll all attend, and come to a conclusion.

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. And I hope you'll then conclude to favour us with one of them fine turkeys you're keeping for your sea store [_Aside._] or that fine, fat, black pig you or some of your guard stole out of the poor Negroe's pen. As it's near Christmas, and you're going to make your exit--you know the old custom among the sailors--pave your way first--let us have one good dinner before we part, and leave us half a dozen pipes of Mr. Hanc.o.c.k's wine to drink your health, and a good voyage, and don't let us part with dry lips.

_Such foolish councils, with no wisdom fraught, Must end in wordy words, and come to nought; Just like St. James's, where they bl.u.s.ter, scold, They nothing know--yet they despise being told._

[_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[9] See Burgoyne's letter.

ACT V.

SCENE I. _At Montreal._

_GENERAL PRESCOT and OFFICER._

GENERAL PRESCOT.

So it seems indeed, one misfortune seldom comes alone.--The rebels, after the taking of Ticonderoga and Chamblee, as I just now learn by a Savage, marched immediately to besiege St. John's, and are now before that place, closely investing it, and no doubt intend paying us a visit soon.

OFFICER. Say you so? then 'tis time to look about us.

GEN. PRESCOT. They'll find us prepar'd, I'll warrant 'em, to give 'em such a reception as they little dream of--a parcel of Yankee dogs.

OFFICER. Their success, no doubt, has elated them, and given 'em hopes of conquering all Canada soon, if that's their intent.

GEN. PRESCOT. No doubt it is--but I'll check their career a little.----

_Enter SCOUTING OFFICER, with COLONEL ALLEN, and other prisoners._

SCOUTING OFFICER. Sir, I make bold to present you with a few prisoners--they are a scouting detachment from the army besieging St.

John's.

GEN. PRESCOT. Prisoners? Rebels, I suppose, and scarcely worth hanging.

COL. ALLEN. Sir, you suppose wrong--you mean scarcely worth your while to attempt.

GEN. PRESCOT. Pray, who are you, sir?

COL. ALLEN. A man, sir, and who had the honour, till now, to command those brave men, whom you call rebels.

GEN. PRESCOT. What is your name? If I may be so bold?

COL. ALLEN. Allen.

GEN. PRESCOT. Allen?

COL. ALLEN. Yes, Allen.

GEN. PRESCOT. Are you that Allen, that Colonel Allen (as they call him) that dar'd to take Ticonderoga?