The Fall of British Tyranny Part 17

GEN. LEE. What number of men in the whole attack was killed? did you learn?

MESSENGER. About sixty killed and wounded.

GEN. WAs.h.i.+NGTON. Have you any thing further to communicate?

MESSENGER. Nothing, sir, but to inform you they are all in good spirits, and desire reinforcements, and heavy artillery may be sent them as soon as possible.

GEN. WAs.h.i.+NGTON. That be our business--with all despatch. You may for the present withdraw. Serjeant!

_Enter SERJEANT._

SERJEANT. I wait your order, sir.

GEN. WAs.h.i.+NGTON. See that the Messenger and his horse want for nothing.

SERJEANT. I shall, sir.

[_Exeunt SERJEANT and MESSENGER._

SCENE IV.

GEN. WAs.h.i.+NGTON. I'll despatch an Express to the Congress. This repulse, if I mistake not (or victory, as Carleton may call it), will stand 'em but in little stead--'t will be only a temporary reprieve--we'll reinforce our friends, let the consequence be what it may--Quebec must fall, and the lofty strong walls and brazen gates (the s.h.i.+eld of cowards) must tumble by an artificial earthquake; should they continue in their obstinacy, we'll arm our friends with missive thunders in their hands, and stream death on them swifter than the winds.

GEN. LEE. I lament the loss of the valiant Montgomery and his brave officers and soldiers (at this time more especially) 'tis the fortune of war, 'tis unavoidable; yet, I doubt not, out of their ashes will arise new heroes.

GEN. PUTNAM. Who can die a more glorious, a more honourable death than in their country's cause?--let it redouble our ardour, and kindle a n.o.ble emulation in our b.r.e.a.s.t.s--let each American be determined to conquer or die in a righteous cause.

GEN. WAs.h.i.+NGTON. I have drawn my sword, and never will I sheathe it, till America is free, or I'm no more.

GEN. LEE. Peace is despaired of, and who can think of submission? The last pet.i.tion from the Congress, like the former, has been disregarded; they prayed but for liberty, peace and safety, and their omnipotent authoritative supreme-s.h.i.+ps will grant them neither: War, then, war open and understood, must be resolved on; this, this will humble their pride, will bring their tyrant noses to the ground, teach 'em humility, and force them to hearken to reason when 'tis too late. My n.o.ble General, I join you. [_Drawing his sword._] I'll away with the scabbard, and sheathe my sword in the bosom of tyranny.

GEN. PUTNAM. Have you not read the speech, where frowning revenge and sounds of awful dread for disgrace at Lexington and loss at Bunker's Hill echo forth? Not smiling peace, or pity, tame his sullen soul; but, Pharaoh-like, on the wings of tyranny he rides and forfeits happiness to feast revenge, till the waters of the red sea of blood deluge the tyrant, with his mixed host of vile cut-throats, murderers, and b.l.o.o.d.y butchers.

GEN. WAs.h.i.+NGTON. Yet, finding they cannot conquer us, gladly would they make it up by a voluntary free-will offering of a million of money in bribes, rather than be obliged to relish the thoughts of sacrificing their cursed pride and false honour, they sending over to amuse us (to put us off our guard) a score or two of commissioners with sham negotiations in great state, to endeavour to effect, by bribery, deception and chicanery, what they cannot accomplish by force. Perish such wretches!--detested be their schemes!--Perish such monsters!--a reproach to human understanding--their vaunted boasts and threats will vanish like smoke, and be no more than like snow falling on the moist ground, melt in silence, and waste away--Blasted, forever blasted be the hand of the villainous traitor that receives their gold upon such terms--may he become leprous, like Naaman, the Syrian, yea, rather like Gehazi, the servant of Elisha, that it may stick to him for ever.

GEN. PUTNAM. I join you both, and swear by all the heroes of New-England, that this arm, tho' fourscore and four [_Drawing his sword._], still nervous and strong, shall wield this sword to the last in the support of liberty and my country, revenge the insult offer'd to the immortal Montgomery, and brutal treatment of the brave Allen.

_O Liberty! thou suns.h.i.+ne of the heart!

Thou smile of nature, and thou soul of art!

Without thy aid no human hope cou'd grow, And all we cou'd enjoy were turn'd to woe._

[_Exeunt._

THE EPILOGUE.

SPOKEN BY MR. FREEMAN.

Since tyrants reign, and l.u.s.t and lux'ry rule; Since kings turn Neroes--statesmen play the fool; Since parli'ment in cursed league combine, To sport with rights that's sacred and divine; Destroying towns with direful conflagration, And murder subjects without provocation!

These are but part of evils we could name, Not to their glory, but eternal shame.

Pet.i.tions--waste paper--great Pharaoh cries, Nor care a rush for your remonstrances.

Each Jacobite, and ev'ry pimping Tory, Waits for your wealth, to raise his future glory: Or pensions sure, must ev'ry rascal have, Who strove his might, to make FREEMAN a slave.

Since this the case, to whom for succour cry?

To G.o.d, our swords, and sons of liberty!

Cast off the idol G.o.d!--kings are but vain!

Let justice rule, and independence reign.

Are ye not men? Pray who made men, but G.o.d?

Yet men make kings--to tremble at their nod!

What nonsense this--let's wrong with right oppose, Since nought will do, but sound, impartial blows.

Let's act in earnest, not with vain pretence, } Adopt the language of sound COMMON SENSE, } And with one voice proclaim INDEPENDENCE. } Convince your foes you will defend your right, That blows and knocks is all they will get by 't.

Let tyrants see that you are well prepar'd, By proclamations, sword, nor speeches scar'd; That liberty freeborn breathe in each soul!

One G.o.d-like union animate the whole!

_End of the First Campaign._