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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Group, by Mercy Warren
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Group
+       A Farce
+
+Author: Mercy Warren
+
+Editor: Montrose J. Moses
+
+Release Date: June 26, 2009 [EBook #29224]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GROUP ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES
+
+This e-book contains the text of _The Group_, extracted from
+Representative Plays by American Dramatists: Vol 1, 1765-1819. Comments
+and background to all the plays and the other plays are available at
+Project Gutenberg.
+
+Spelling as in the original has been preserved.
+
+
+
+
+THE GROUP
+
+_By_ MRS. MERCY WARREN
+
+[Illustration: MRS. MERCY WARREN]
+
+
+
+
+MRS. MERCY WARREN
+
+(1728-1814)
+
+
+Most of the literature--orations as well as broadsides--created in
+America under the heat of the Revolution, was of a strictly satirical
+character. Most of the Revolutionary ballads sung at the time were
+bitter with hatred against the Loyalist. When the conflict actually
+was in progress, the theatres that regaled the Colonists were closed,
+and an order from the Continental Congress declared that theatre-going
+was an amusement from which all patriotic people should abstain. These
+orders or resolutions were dated October 12, 1778, and October 16.
+(Seilhamer, ii, 51.) The playhouses were no sooner closed,
+however--much to the regret of Washington--than their doors were
+thrown wide open by the British troops stationed in Boston, New York,
+and Philadelphia. A complete history of the American stage has to deal
+with Howe's players, Clinton's players, and Burgoyne's players.
+
+Of all these Red-Coat Thespians, two demand our attention--one, Major
+André, a gay, talented actor; the other, General Burgoyne, whose pride
+was as much concerned with playwriting as with generalship. The latter
+dipped his pen in the satirical inkpot, and wrote a farce, "The
+Blockade of Boston." It was this play that drew forth from a woman, an
+American playwright, the retort stinging. This lady was Mrs. Mercy
+Warren[1] who, although distinguished for being a sister of James
+Otis, and the wife of General James Warren, was in her own name a most
+important and distinct literary figure during the Revolution.
+
+So few women appear in the early history of American Drama that it is
+well here to mention Mrs. Charlotte Ramsay Lennox (1720-1804) and Mrs.
+Susanna Rowson (1762-1824). The former has the reputation of being the
+first woman, born in America, to have written a play, "The Sister"
+(1769). The author moved to London when she was fifteen, and there it
+was her piece was produced, with an epilogue by Oliver Goldsmith. She
+is referred to in Boswell's Life of Johnson.
+
+Of Susanna Rowson, whose Memoir has been issued by Rev. Elias Nason,
+we know that, as a singer and actress, she created sufficient
+reputation in London to attract the attention of Wignell, the
+comedian. (Clapp. Boston Stage. 1853, p. 41.)
+
+With her husband, she came to this country in 1793, and, apart from
+her professional duties on the stage, wrote a farce, "Volunteers"
+(1795), dealing with the Whiskey Insurrection in Pennsylvania, "The
+Female Patriot" (1794), "Slaves in Algiers; or, A Struggle for
+Freedom" (1794), and "Americans in England" (1796). All of these were
+produced. Her literary attainments were wide, her most popular novel
+being "Charlotte Temple, a Tale of Truth" (1790). She likewise
+compiled many educational works. (See Wegelin.)
+
+The picture conjured up in our mind of Mrs. Warren is farthest away
+from satire. To judge by the costume she wore when she sat to Copley
+for her portrait, she must have been graced with all the feminine
+wiles of the period. Behold Mrs. Mercy Warren, satirist, as the
+records describe her:
+
+    Her head-dress is of white lace, trimmed with white satin
+    ribbons. Her robe is of dark-green satin, with a pompadour
+    waist, trimmed with point lace. There is a full plait at the
+    back, hanging from the shoulders, and her sleeves are also of
+    point lace. White illusion, trimmed with point lace, and
+    fastened with a white satin bow, covers her neck. The front of
+    the skirt and of the sleeves are elaborately trimmed with
+    puffings of satin.
+
+But however agreeable this picture may be, Mrs. Warren, on reading
+Burgoyne's farce, immediately sharpened her pen, and replied by
+writing a counter-farce, which she called "The Blockheads; or, the
+Affrighted Officers."[2] It was in the prologue to this play that the
+poet-dramatist wrote:
+
+    Your pardon first I crave for this intrusion.
+    The topic's such it looks like a delusion;
+    And next your candour, for I swear and vow,
+    Such an attempt I never made till now.
+    But constant laughing at the Desp'rate fate,
+    The bastard sons of Mars endur'd of late,
+    Induc'd me thus to minute down the notion,
+    Which put my risibles in such commotion.
+    By yankees frighted too! oh, dire to say!
+    Why yankees sure at red-coats faint away!
+    Oh, yes--They thought so too--for lack-a-day,
+    Their gen'ral turned the _blockade_ to a play:
+    Poor vain poltroons--with justice we'll retort,
+    And call them _blockheads_ for their idle sport.
+
+Unfortunately, we cannot test the comparative value of satire as used
+by Burgoyne and Mrs. Warren, because the Burgoyne play is not in
+existence. But, undoubtedly, our Revolutionary enthusiast knew how to
+wield her pen in anger, and she reflects all of the bitter spirit of
+the time. Not only is this apparent in "The Blockheads," but likewise
+in "The Group," a piece which holds up to ridicule a number of people
+well known to the Boston of that day.
+
+Mrs. Warren was the writer of many plays, as well as being noted for
+her "History of the American Revolution" (1805), and for her slim
+volume of poems (1790), which follow the conventional sentiments of
+the conventionally sentimental English poetry of that time.
+
+In "The Group" we obtain her interesting impressions, in dramatic
+form, of North and Gage and, from the standpoint of the library, we
+regard with reverence the little copy of the play printed on the day
+before the battle of Lexington--a slim brochure, aimed effectively at
+Tory politicians.[3]
+
+In fact, mention the name Tory to Mrs. Warren, and her wit was ever
+ready to sharpen its shafts against British life in America. That is
+probably why so many believe she wrote "The Motley Assembly," a farce,
+though some there be who claim that its authorship belongs to J. M.
+Sewall. Dr. F. W. Atkinson asserts that this was the first American
+play to have in it only American characters.[4]
+
+The satirical farce was a popular dramatic form of the time. Mrs.
+Warren was particularly effective in wielding such a polemic note, for
+instance, when she deals with the Boston Massacre in her Tragedy, "The
+Adulateur" (Boston: Printed and sold at the New Printing-Office,
+/Near Concert-Hall./ M,DCC,LXXIII./). On the King's side, however, the
+writers were just as effective. Such an example is seen in "The Battle
+of Brooklyn, A farce of Two Acts: as it was performed at Long-Island,
+on Tuesday, the 27th of August, 1776, By the Representatives of the
+Tyrants of America, Assembled at Philadelphia" (Edinburgh: Printed in
+the Year M.DCC.LXXVII.), in which the British ridicule all that is
+Continental, even Washington. This farce was reprinted in Brooklyn,
+1873.
+
+Jonathan Mitchell Sewall's (1748-1808) "A Cure for the Spleen; or,
+Amusement for a Winter's Evening" (1775) was another Tory protest,
+which carried the following pretentious subtitle: "Being the substance
+of a conversation on the Times, over a friendly tankard and pipe,
+between Sharp, a country Parson; Bumper, a country Justice; Fillpot,
+an inn-keeper; Graveairs, a Deacon; Trim, a Barber; Brim, a Quaker;
+Puff, a late Representative. Taken in short-hand by Roger de Coverly."
+
+Mrs. Warren was the intimate friend of many interesting people. It
+concerns us, however, that her most significant correspondence of a
+literary nature was carried on with John Adams, afterwards President
+of the United States. This friendship remained unbroken until such
+time as Mrs. Warren found it necessary to picture Adams in her History
+of the Revolution; when he objected to the portraiture.
+
+The student of history is beholden to Mr. Adams for many of those
+intimate little sketches of Revolutionary and early national life in
+America, without which our impressions would be much the poorer. His
+admiration for Mrs. Warren was great, and even in his correspondence
+with her husband, James Warren, he never allowed an opportunity to
+slip for alluding to her work as a literary force in the life of the
+time. I note, for example, a letter he wrote on December 22, 1773,
+suggesting a theme which would "become" Mrs. Warren's pen, "which has
+no equal that I know of in this country."
+
+In 1775, after "The Group" was written, and, according to custom,
+submitted by Warren to John Adams for criticism and approval, we find
+him praising Mrs. Warren, and quoting from her play. So poignantly
+incisive was Mrs. Warren's satire that many people would not credit
+her with the pieces she actually wrote, and there were those who
+thought it incredible that a woman should use satire so openly and so
+flagrantly as she. The consequence is, many of her contemporaries
+attributed the writing of "The Group" to masculine hands, and this
+attitude drew from Mrs. Warren the following letter written to Mr.
+Adams:
+
+    My next question, sir, you may deem impertinent. Do you remember
+    who was the author of a little pamphlet entitled, _The Group?_
+    To your hand it was committed by the writer. You brought it
+    forward to the public eye. I will therefore give you my reason
+    for naming it now. A friend of mine, who lately visited the
+    Athenĉum [a Boston Library], saw it among a bundle of pamphlets,
+    with a high encomium of the author, who, he asserted, was Mr.
+    Samuel Barrett. You can, if you please, give a written testimony
+    contradictory of the false assertion.
+
+This letter was written long after the Revolution, when she was not
+loath to let it be known that she was the creator of this little play,
+and is clearly indicative of the general attitude the public had
+toward Mrs. Warren as an author. Her appeal instantly called forth a
+courteous rejoinder from Mr. Adams, who wrote:
+
+    What brain could ever have conceived or suspected Samuel
+    Barrett, Esquire, to have been the author of "The Group"? The
+    bishop has neither the natural genius nor the acquired talents,
+    the knowledge of characters, nor the political principles,
+    sentiments, or feelings, that could have dictated that pungent
+    drama. His worthy brother, the Major, might have been as
+    rationally suspected.
+
+    I could take my Bible oath to two propositions, 1st. That Bishop
+    Barrett, in my opinion, was one of the last literary characters
+    in the world who ought to have been suspected to have written
+    "The Group." 2d. That there was but one person in the world,
+    male or female, who could at that time, in my opinion, have
+    written it; and that person was Madam Mercy Warren, the
+    historical, philosophical, poetical, and satirical consort of
+    the then Colonel, since General, James Warren of Plymouth,
+    sister of the great, but forgotten, James Otis.
+
+According to Adams, he immediately went to the Boston Athenĉum, where
+his nephew, W. S. Shaw, was Librarian. He drew from the shelves a copy
+of "The Group", which had been bought from the collection of Governor
+Adams of Massachusetts, and forthwith, on looking it over, wrote down
+the original names of the people satirized therein.[5] This copy is
+still a valuable possession of the library.
+
+While Mrs. Warren was writing "The Group," she sent it piecemeal to
+her husband, who was on the field of battle. He, being proud of the
+literary attainments of his wife, sent it around to his friends, under
+seal of secrecy. And his appeal to these friends was very significant
+of the pride he felt in the manuscript. Here is what he wrote to
+Adams, on January 15, 1775:
+
+    Inclosed are for your amusement two Acts of a dramatic
+    performance composed at my particular desire. They go to you as
+    they came out of the hand of the Copier, without pointing or
+    marking. If you think it worth while to make any other use of
+    them than a reading, you will prepare them in that way & give
+    them such other Corrections & Amendments as your good Judgment
+    shall suggest.
+
+It gradually became known among Warren's friends who the real writer
+of the satire was, much to the consternation of Mrs. Mercy Warren. She
+was modest to the extreme, usually being thrust into writing on
+particular subjects by the enthusiasm of her friends. For example, she
+wrote a poem on the Boston Tea Party, and, in sending it to her
+husband, she confessed that it was a task
+
+    done in consequence of the request of a much respected friend.
+    It was wrote off with little attention.... I do not think it has
+    sufficient merit for the public eye.
+
+By the same post, she sent him another scene from "The Group."
+
+    Whatever you do with either of them [meaning the manuscripts],
+    you will doubtless be careful that the author is not exposed,
+    and hope your particular friends will be convinced of the
+    propriety of not naming her at present.
+
+Mrs. Warren was the author of several other plays, among them "The
+Adulateur" and "The Retreat," which preceded "The Group" in date of
+composition, and "The Sack of Rome." The latter was contained in a
+volume of poems issued in 1790, in which "The Ladies of Castile" was
+dedicated to President Washington, who wrote the author a courteous
+note in acknowledgment.
+
+In the preface to this volume, Mrs. Warren gives her impressions of
+the stage, which are excellent measure of the regard Americans of this
+period had for the moral influence of the playhouse. Thus, she writes:
+
+    Theatrical amusements may, sometimes, have been prostituted to
+    the purposes of vice; yet, in an age of taste and refinement,
+    lessons of morality, and the consequences of deviation, may,
+    perhaps, be as successfully enforced from the stage, as by modes
+    of instruction, less censured by the severe; while, at the same
+    time, the exhibition of great historical events, opens a field
+    of contemplation to the reflecting and philosophic mind.
+
+But Mrs. Warren was not entirely given over to the serious occupations
+of literary work. We find her on intimate terms with Mrs. Adams, the
+two of them in their daily association calling each other _Portia_ and
+_Marcia_.
+
+Who actually played in "The Group" when it was given a performance is
+not recorded. We know, however, from records, that it was given for the
+delectation of the audiences assembled "nigh head quarters, at Amboyne."
+This evidence is on the strength of Mrs. Warren's own statement.
+Sanction for the statement appears on the title-pages of the New York,
+John Anderson, issue of 1775,[6] and the Jamaica-Philadelphia, James
+Humphreys, Jr., edition of the same year.
+
+I have selected this play, "The Group," as being an excellent example
+of the partisan writing done at the time of our American Revolution,
+and no one can afford to overlook it, although its actable qualities,
+according to our present-day judgment, are doubtful.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] Mrs. Warren was born at Barnstable, Mass., September 25, 1728, and
+died at Plymouth, Mass., October 19, 1814.
+
+[2] The/Blockheads:/or, the/Affrighted Officers. /A/Farce. /Boston:/
+Printed in Queen-Street,/M,DCC,LXXVI./
+
+[3] On the title-page of the Boston edition there appears the
+following proem: "As the great business of the polite world is the
+eager pursuit of amusement, and as the Public diversions of the season
+have been interrupted by the hostile parade in the capital; the
+exhibition of a new farce may not be unentertaining."
+
+[4] The /Motley /Assembly, /A /Farce. /Published /For the
+/Entertainment /of the / Curious. /Boston: /Printed and Sold by
+Nathaniel Coverly, in /Newbury-Street, / M,DCC,LXXIX./
+
+[5] Mrs. Warren's biographer, Alice Brown, quotes the list, as
+follows, the persons satirized being in parentheses: Lord Chief
+Justice Hazlerod (Oliver); Judge Meagre (E. Hutchinson); Brigadier
+Hateall (Ruggles); Hum Humbug, Esq., (Jno. Erving); Sir Sparrow
+Spendall (Sir Wm. Pepperell); Hector Mushroom (Col. Murray); Beau
+Trumps (Jno. Vassall); Dick, the Publican (Lechmere); Monsieur de
+François (N. R. Thomas); Crusty Crowbar, Esq. (J. Boutineau);
+Dupe,--Secretary of State (T. Flucker); Scriblerius Fribble (Leonard);
+Commodore Bateau (Loring). The significance of these names will be
+apparent to student of local Colonial history.
+
+[6] The /Group,/ A / Farce: / As lately Acted, and to be Re-acted, to
+the Wonder/ of all superior Intelligences; /Nigh Head Quarters, at/
+Amboyne. /In Two Acts./ New-York: / Printed by John Anderson,/ at
+Beekman's-Slip./ [The Boston edition was printed and sold by Edes and
+Gill, in Queen-Street, 1775.]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE
+
+GROUP,
+
+A
+
+FARCE:
+
+As lately Acted, and to be Re-acted, to the Wonder of all superior
+Intelligences;
+
+NIGH HEAD QUARTERS, AT
+
+AMBOYNE.
+
+IN TWO ACTS.
+
+JAMAICA, PRINTED;
+_PHILADELPHIA_, RE-PRINTED;
+BY JAMES HUMPHREYS, junior, in Front-street.
+
+M,DCC,LXXV.
+
+FAC-SIMILE TITLE-PAGE OF THE FIRST EDITION]
+
+
+
+
+The AUTHOR has thought proper to borrow the following spirited lines
+from a late celebrated Poet, and offer to the public, by way of
+PROLOGUE, which cannot fail of pleasing at this crisis.
+
+
+PROLOGUE
+
+_WHAT! arm'd for virtue, and not point the pen,
+Brand the bold front of shameless guilty men,
+Dash the proud gamester from his gilded car,
+Bare the mean heart which lurks beneath a star,_
+
+                 *  *  *
+
+_Shall I not strip the gilding off a knave,
+Unplac'd, unpension'd, no man's heir, or slave?
+I will, or perish in the gen'rous cause;
+Hear this and tremble, ye who 'scape the laws;
+Yes, while I live, no rich or noble knave,
+Shall walk the world in credit to his grave;
+To virtue only, and her friends, a friend,
+The world beside may murmur, or commend._
+
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONĈ
+
+
+_Lord Chief Justice HAZLEROD_,
+_Judge MEAGRE_,
+_Brigadier HATEALL_,
+_HUM HUMBUG, Esquire_,
+_Sir SPARROW SPENDALL_,
+_HECTOR MUSHROOM,--Col._
+_BEAU TRUMPS_,
+_DICK, the Publican_,
+_SIMPLE SAPLING, Esquire_,
+_Monsieur de FRANÇOIS_,
+_CRUSTY CROWBAR, Esquire_,
+_DUPE,--Secretary of State_,
+_SCRIBLERIUS FRIBBLE_,
+_Commodore BATEAU_,
+_COLLATERALIS,--a new-made Judge_.
+
+Attended by a swarm of court sycophants, hungry harpies, and
+unprincipled danglers, collected from the neighbouring villages,
+hovering over the stage in the shape of locusts, led by
+Massachusettensis in the form of a basilisk; the rear brought up by
+Proteus, bearing a torch in one hand, and a powder-flask in the other.
+The whole supported by a mighty army and navy, from Blunderland, for
+the laudable purpose of enslaving its best friends.
+
+
+
+
+_The_
+
+GROUP
+
+_A_
+
+_Farce_
+
+
+
+
+ACT I.
+
+
+SCENE I. _A little dark Parlour in Boston:_
+
+_GUARDS standing at the door._
+
+_HAZLEROD, CRUSTY CROWBAR, SIMPLE SAPLING, HATEALL, and HECTOR
+MUSHROOM._
+
+SIMPLE.
+
+  I know not what to think of these sad times,
+The people arm'd,--and all resolv'd to die
+Ere they'll submit.----
+
+CRUSTY CROWBAR.
+
+  I too am almost sick of the parade
+Of honours purchas'd at the price of peace.
+
+SIMPLE.
+
+  Fond as I am of greatness and her charms,
+Elate with prospects of my rising name,
+Push'd into place,--a place I ne'er expected,
+My bounding heart leapt in my feeble breast.
+And ecstasies entranc'd my slender brain.--
+But yet, ere this I hop'd more solid gains,
+As my low purse demands a quick supply.--
+Poor Sylvia weeps,--and urges my return
+To rural peace and humble happiness,
+As my ambition beggars all her babes.
+
+CRUSTY.
+
+  When first I listed in the desp'rate cause,
+And blindly swore obedience to his will,
+So wise, so just, so good I thought Rapatio,
+That if salvation rested on his word
+I'd pin my faith, and risk my hopes thereon.
+
+HAZLEROD.
+
+  Any why not now?--What staggers thy belief?
+
+CRUSTY.
+
+  Himself--his perfidy appears--
+It is too plain he has betray'd his country;
+And we're the wretched tools by him mark'd out
+To seal its ruins--tear up the ancient forms,
+And every vestige treacherously destroy,
+Nor leave a trait of freedom in the land.
+Nor did I think hard fate wou'd call me up
+From drudging o'er my acres,
+Treading the glade, and sweating at the plough,
+To dangle at the tables of the great;
+At bowls and cards to spend my frozen years;
+To sell my friends, my country, and my conscience;
+Profane the sacred sabbaths of my God;
+Scorn'd by the very men who want my aid
+To spread distress o'er this devoted people.
+
+HAZLEROD.
+
+  Pho--what misgivings--why these idle qualms,
+This shrinking backwards at the bugbear conscience;
+In early life I heard the phantom nam'd,
+And the grave sages prate of moral sense
+Presiding in the bosom of the just;
+Or planting thongs about the guilty heart.
+Bound by these shackles, long my lab'ring mind,
+Obscurely trod the lower walks of life,
+In hopes by honesty my bread to gain;
+But neither commerce, or my conjuring rods,
+Nor yet mechanics, or new fangled drills,
+Or all the iron-monger's curious arts,
+Gave me a competence of shining ore,
+Or gratify'd my itching palm for more;
+Till I dismiss'd the bold intruding guest,
+And banish'd conscience from my wounded breast.
+
+CRUSTY.
+
+  Happy expedient!--Could I gain the art,
+Then balmy sleep might sooth my waking lids,
+And rest once more refresh my weary soul.
+
+HAZLEROD.
+
+  Resolv'd more rapidly to gain my point,
+I mounted high in justice's sacred seat,
+With flowing robes, and head equip'd without,
+A heart unfeeling and a stubborn soul,
+As qualify'd as e'er a Jefferies was;
+Save in the knotty rudiments of law,
+The smallest requisite for modern times,
+When wisdom, law, and justice are supply'd
+By swords, dragoons, and ministerial nods,
+Sanctions most sacred in the Pander's creed,
+I sold my country for a splendid bribe.
+Now let her sink--and all the dire alarms
+Of war, confusion, pestilence, and blood,
+And tenfold mis'ry be her future doom--
+Let civil discord lift her sword on high,
+Nay, sheath its hilt e'en in my brother's blood;
+It ne'er shall move the purpose of my soul;
+Tho' once I trembled at a thought so bold;
+By Philalethes's arguments, convinc'd,
+We may live Demons, as we die like brutes,
+I give my tears, and conscience to the winds.
+
+HATEALL.
+
+  Curse on their coward fears, and dastard souls,
+Their soft compunctions and relented qualms,
+Compassion ne'er shall seize my steadfast breast
+Though blood and carnage spread thro' all the land;
+Till streaming purple tinge the verdant turf,
+Till ev'ry street shall float with human gore,
+I Nero-like, the capital in flames,
+could laugh to see her glotted sons expire,
+Tho' much too rough my soul to touch the lyre.
+
+SIMPLE.
+
+  I fear the brave, the injur'd multitude,
+Repeated wrongs, arouse them to resent,
+And every patriot like old Brutus stands,
+The shining steel half drawn--its glitt'ring point
+Scarce hid beneath the scabbard's friendly cell,
+Resolv'd to die, or see their country free.
+
+HATEALL.
+
+  Then let them die--_The dogs we will keep down_--
+While N----'s my friend, and G---- approves the deed,
+Tho' hell and all its hell-hounds should unite,
+I'll not recede to save from swift perdition
+My wife, my country, family, or friends.
+G----'s mandamus I more highly prize
+Than all the mandates of th' etherial king.
+
+HECTOR MUSHROOM.
+
+  Will our abettors in the distant towns
+Support us long against the common cause,
+When they shall see from Hampshire's northern bounds
+Thro' the wide western plains to southern shores
+The whole united continent in arms?----
+
+HATEALL.
+
+  They shall--as sure as oaths or bond can bind;
+I've boldly sent my new-born brat abroad,
+Th' association of my morbid brain,
+To which each minion must affix his name,
+As all our hope depends on brutal force,
+On quick destruction, misery, and death;
+Soon may we see dark ruin stalk around,
+With murder, rapine, and inflicted pains;
+Estates confiscate, slav'ry, and despair,
+Wrecks, halters, axes, gibbeting and chains,
+All the dread ills that wait on civil war;----
+How I could glut my vengeful eyes to see
+The weeping maid thrown helpless on the world,
+Her sire cut off.--Her orphan brothers stand,
+While the big tear rolls down the manly cheek.
+Robb'd of maternal care by grief's keen shaft,
+The sorrowing mother mourns her starving babes,
+Her murder'd lord torn guiltless from her side,
+And flees for shelter to the pitying grave
+To screen at once from slavery and pain.
+
+HAZLEROD.
+
+  But more complete I view this scene of woe,
+By the incursions of a savage foe,
+Of which I warn'd them, if they dare refuse
+The badge of slaves, and bold resistance use.
+Now let them suffer--I'll no pity feel.
+
+HATEALL.
+
+  Nor I!----But had I power, as I have the will,
+I'd send them murm'ring to the shades of hell.
+
+_End of the First Act._
+
+
+
+
+ACT II.
+
+_The scene changes to a large dining room. The table furnished with
+  bowls, bottles, glasses, and cards.----The Group appear sitting
+  round in a restless attitude. In one corner of the room is discovered
+  a small cabinet of books, for the use of the studious and
+  contemplative; containing, Hobbs's Leviathan, Sipthorp's Sermons,
+  Hutchinson's History, Fable of the Bees, Philalethes on Philanthropy,
+  with an appendix by Massachusettensis, Hoyl on Whist, Lives of the
+  Stuarts, Statutes of Henry the Eighth, and William the Conqueror,
+  Wedderburne's speeches, and acts of Parliament, for 1774._
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+_HATEALL, HAZLEROD, MONSIEUR, BEAU TRUMPS, SIMPLE, HUMBUG, SIR
+SPARROW, &c., &c._
+
+SCRIBLERIUS.
+
+                   ----Thy toast, Monsieur,
+Pray, why that solemn phiz:--
+Art thou, too, balancing 'twixt right and wrong?
+Hast thou a thought so mean as to give up
+Thy present good, for promise in reversion?
+'Tis true hereafter has some feeble terrors,
+But ere our grizzly heads are wrapt in clay
+We may compound, and make our peace with Heav'n.
+
+MONSIEUR.
+
+  Could I give up the dread of retribution,
+The awful reck'ning of some future day,
+Like surly Hateall I might curse mankind,
+And dare the threat'ned vengeance of the skies.
+Or like yon apostate----
+
+                           [_Pointing to HAZLEROD, retired to a corner
+                            to read Massachusettensis._
+
+                          Feel but slight remorse
+To sell my country for a grasp of gold.
+But the impressions of my early youth,
+Infix'd by precepts of my pious sire,
+Are stings and scorpions in my goaded breast;
+Oft have I hung upon my parent's knee
+And heard him tell of his escape from France;
+He left the land of slaves, and wooden shoes;
+From place to place he sought a safe retreat,
+Till fair Bostonia stretch'd her friendly arm
+And gave the refugee both bread and peace:
+(Shall I ungrateful 'rase the sacred bonds,
+And help to clank the tyrant's iron chains
+O'er these blest shores--once the sure asylum
+From all the ills of arbitrary sway?)
+With his expiring breath he bade his sons,
+If e'er oppression reach'd the western world,
+Resist its force, and break the servile yoke.
+
+SCRIBLERIUS.
+
+  Well quit thy post;----Go make thy flatt'ring court
+To Freedom's Sons and tell thy baby fears;
+Shew the foot traces in thy puny heart,
+Made by the trembling tongue and quiv'ring lip
+Of an old grandsire's superstitious whims.
+
+MONSIEUR.
+
+  No,----I never can----
+So great the itch I feel for titl'd place,
+Some honorary post, some small distinction,
+To save my name from dark oblivion's jaws,
+I'll hazard all, but ne'er give up my place,
+For _that_ I'll see Rome's ancient rites restor'd,
+And flame and faggot blaze in ev'ry street.
+
+BEAU TRUMPS.
+
+             ----That's right, Monsieur,
+There's nought on earth that has such tempting charms
+As rank and show, and pomp, and glitt'ring dress,
+Save the dear counters at belov'd Quadril,
+Viner unsoil'd, and Littleton, may sleep,
+And Coke lie mould'ring on the dusty shelf,
+If I by shuffling draw some lucky card
+That wins the livres, or lucrative place.
+
+HUM HUMBUG.
+
+  When sly Rapatio shew'd his friends the scroll,
+I wonder'd much to see thy patriot name
+Among the list of rebels to the state,
+I thought thee one of Rusticus's sworn friends.
+
+BEAU TRUMPS.
+
+  When first I enter'd on the public stage
+My country groan'd beneath base Brundo's hand,
+Virtue look'd fair and beckon'd to her lure,
+Thro' truth's bright mirror I beheld her charms
+And wish'd to tread the patriotic path
+And wear the laurels that adorn his fame;
+I walk'd a while and tasted solid peace
+With Cassius, Rusticus, and good Hortensius,
+And many more, whose names will be rever'd
+When you, and I, and all the venal herd,
+Weigh'd in Nemesis, just impartial scale,
+Are mark'd with infamy, till time blot out
+And in oblivion sink our hated names.
+But 'twas a poor unprofitable path,
+Nought to be gain'd, save solid peace of mind,
+No pensions, place or title there I found;
+I saw Rapatio's arts had struck so deep
+And giv'n his country such a fatal wound,
+None but his foes promotion could expect;
+I trim'd, and pimp'd, and veer'd, and wav'ring stood,
+But half resolv'd to shew myself a knave,
+Till the Arch Traitor prowling round for aid
+Saw my suspense and bade me doubt no more;--
+He gently bow'd, and smiling took my hand,
+And whispering softly in my list'ning ear,
+Shew'd me my name among his chosen band,
+And laugh'd at virtue dignifi'd by fools,
+Clear'd all my doubts, and bade me persevere
+In spite of the restraints, or hourly checks
+Of wounded friendship, and a goaded mind,
+Or all the sacred ties of truth and honour.
+
+COLLATERALIS.
+
+  Come, 'mongst ourselves we'll e'en speak out the truth.
+Can you suppose there yet is such a dupe
+As still believes that wretch an honest man?
+  The later strokes of his serpentine brain
+Outvie the arts of Machiavel himself,
+His Borgian model here is realiz'd
+And the stale tricks of politicians play'd
+Beneath a vizard fair----
+                ----Drawn from the heav'nly form
+Of blest religion weeping o'er the land
+For virtue fall'n, and for freedom lost.
+
+BEAU TRUMPS.
+
+  I think with you----
+----unparalleled his effront'ry,
+When by chican'ry and specious art,
+'Midst the distress in which he'd brought the city,
+He found a few (by artifice and cunning,
+By much industry of his wily friend
+The false Philanthrop----sly undermining tool,
+Who with the Syren's voice----
+Deals daily round the poison of his tongue)
+To speak him fair--and overlook his guilt.
+They by reiterated promise made
+To stand his friend at Britain's mighty court,
+And vindicate his native injur'd land,
+Lent him their names to sanctify his deeds.
+But mark the traitor----his high crimes gloss'd o'er
+Conceals the tender feelings of the man,
+The social ties that bind the human heart;
+He strikes a bargain with his country's foes,
+And joins to wrap America in flames.
+Yet with feign'd pity, and Satanic grin,
+As if more deep to fix the keen insult,
+Or make his life a farce still more complete,
+He sends a groan across the broad Atlantic,
+And with a phiz of Crocodilian stamp,
+Can weep, and wreathe, still hoping to deceive,
+He cries the gath'ring clouds hang thick about her,
+But laughs within----then sobs----
+                ----Alas! my country?
+
+HUM HUMBUG.
+
+  Why so severe, or why exclaim at all,
+Against the man who made thee what thou art?
+
+BEAU TRUMPS.
+
+  I know his guilt,--I ever knew the man,
+Thy father knew him e'er we trod the stage;
+I only speak to such as know him well;
+Abroad I tell the world he is a saint,
+But as for int'rest I betray'd my own
+With the same views, I rank'd among his friends:
+But my ambition sighs for something more.
+What merits has Sir Sparrow of his own,
+And yet a feather graces the fool's cap:
+Which did he wear for what himself achiev'd,
+'Twould stamp some honour on his latest heir----
+But I'll suspend my murm'ring care awhile;
+Come, t' other glass----and try our luck at Loo,
+And if before the dawn your gold I win,
+Or e'er bright Phoebus does his course begin,
+The eastern breeze from Britain's hostile shore
+Should waft her lofty floating towers o'er,
+Whose waving pendants sweep the wat'ry main,
+Dip their proud beaks and dance towards the plain,
+The destin'd plains of slaughter and distress,
+Laden with troops from Hanover and Hess,
+It would invigorate my sinking soul,
+For then the continent we might control;
+Not all the millions that she vainly boasts
+Can cope with Veteran Barbarian hosts;----
+But the brave sons of Albion's warlike race,
+Their arms, and honours, never can disgrace,
+Or draw their swords in such a hated cause,
+In blood to seal a N----'s oppressive laws,
+They'll spurn the service;----Britons must recoil,
+And shew themselves the natives of an isle
+Who sought for freedom, in the worst of times
+Produc'd her Hampdens, Fairfaxes, and Pyms.
+  But if by carnage we should win the game,
+Perhaps by my abilities and fame:
+I might attain a splendid glitt'ring car,
+And mount aloft, and sail in liquid air.
+Like Phaëton, I'd then out-strip the wind,
+And leave my low competitors behind.
+
+_Finis._
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Group, by Mercy Warren
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Group, by Mercy Warren
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Group
+       A Farce
+
+Author: Mercy Warren
+
+Editor: Montrose J. Moses
+
+Release Date: June 26, 2009 [EBook #29224]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GROUP ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="tnote"><p class="center"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></p>
+<p>This e-book contains the text of <i>The Group</i>, extracted from
+<b>Representative Plays by American Dramatists: Vol 1, 1765-1819</b>. Comments and
+background to all the plays, and links to the other plays are available
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29221/29221-h/29221-h.htm">here</a>.</p>
+<p>For your convenience, the transcribers have provided the following links:</p>
+<p class="center">
+<a href="#MRS_MERCY_WARREN"><b>Mrs Mercy Warren.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#PROLOGUE"><b>Prologue</b></a><br />
+<a href="#DRAMATIS_PERSONAE"><b>Dramatis Person&aelig;</b></a><br />
+<a href="#ACT_I"><b>ACT I.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#ACT_II"><b>ACT II.</b></a><br />
+</p>
+<p>Spelling as in the original has been preserved.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h1>THE GROUP</h1>
+
+<h2><i>By</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Mercy Warren</span></h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 501px;">
+<img src="images/image_213.png" width="501" height="534" alt="Mrs. Mercy Warren" title="Mrs. Mercy Warren" />
+<span class="caption">Mrs. Mercy Warren</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="MRS_MERCY_WARREN" id="MRS_MERCY_WARREN"></a>MRS. MERCY WARREN</h2>
+
+<h3>(1728-1814)</h3>
+
+
+<p>Most of the literature&mdash;orations as well as broadsides&mdash;created
+in America under the heat of the Revolution, was of a strictly
+satirical character. Most of the Revolutionary ballads sung at
+the time were bitter with hatred against the Loyalist. When
+the conflict actually was in progress, the theatres that regaled
+the Colonists were closed, and an order from the Continental
+Congress declared that theatre-going was an amusement from
+which all patriotic people should abstain. These orders or
+resolutions were dated October 12, 1778, and October 16. (Seilhamer,
+ii, 51.) The playhouses were no sooner closed, however&mdash;much
+to the regret of Washington&mdash;than their doors were
+thrown wide open by the British troops stationed in Boston,
+New York, and Philadelphia. A complete history of the American
+stage has to deal with Howe's players, Clinton's players,
+and Burgoyne's players.</p>
+
+<p>Of all these Red-Coat Thespians, two demand our attention&mdash;one,
+Major Andr&eacute;, a gay, talented actor; the other, General Burgoyne,
+whose pride was as much concerned with playwriting as
+with generalship. The latter dipped his pen in the satirical inkpot,
+and wrote a farce, "The Blockade of Boston." It was
+this play that drew forth from a woman, an American playwright,
+the retort stinging. This lady was Mrs. Mercy Warren<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>
+who, although distinguished for being a sister of James Otis,
+and the wife of General James Warren, was in her own name
+a most important and distinct literary figure during the
+Revolution.</p>
+
+<p>So few women appear in the early history of American Drama
+that it is well here to mention Mrs. Charlotte Ramsay Lennox
+(1720-1804) and Mrs. Susanna Rowson (1762-1824). The former
+has the reputation of being the first woman, born in America,
+to have written a play, "The Sister" (1769). The author
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>moved to London when she was fifteen, and there it was her
+piece was produced, with an epilogue by Oliver Goldsmith. She
+is referred to in Boswell's Life of Johnson.</p>
+
+<p>Of Susanna Rowson, whose Memoir has been issued by Rev.
+Elias Nason, we know that, as a singer and actress, she created
+sufficient reputation in London to attract the attention of Wignell,
+the comedian. (Clapp. Boston Stage. 1853, p. 41.)</p>
+
+<p>With her husband, she came to this country in 1793, and,
+apart from her professional duties on the stage, wrote a farce,
+"Volunteers" (1795), dealing with the Whiskey Insurrection in
+Pennsylvania, "The Female Patriot" (1794), "Slaves in Algiers;
+or, A Struggle for Freedom" (1794), and "Americans in England"
+(1796). All of these were produced. Her literary attainments
+were wide, her most popular novel being "Charlotte
+Temple, a Tale of Truth" (1790). She likewise compiled many
+educational works. (See Wegelin.)</p>
+
+<p>The picture conjured up in our mind of Mrs. Warren is
+farthest away from satire. To judge by the costume she wore
+when she sat to Copley for her portrait, she must have been
+graced with all the feminine wiles of the period. Behold Mrs.
+Mercy Warren, satirist, as the records describe her:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Her head-dress is of white lace, trimmed with white satin ribbons.
+Her robe is of dark-green satin, with a pompadour waist, trimmed
+with point lace. There is a full plait at the back, hanging from the
+shoulders, and her sleeves are also of point lace. White illusion,
+trimmed with point lace, and fastened with a white satin bow, covers
+her neck. The front of the skirt and of the sleeves are elaborately
+trimmed with puffings of satin.</p></div>
+
+<p>But however agreeable this picture may be, Mrs. Warren, on
+reading Burgoyne's farce, immediately sharpened her pen, and
+replied by writing a counter-farce, which she called "The Blockheads;
+or, the Affrighted Officers."<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> It was in the prologue to
+this play that the poet-dramatist wrote:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Your pardon first I crave for this intrusion.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The topic's such it looks like a delusion;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And next your candour, for I swear and vow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such an attempt I never made till now.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But constant laughing at the Desp'rate fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bastard sons of Mars endur'd of late,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Induc'd me thus to minute down the notion,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which put my risibles in such commotion.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By yankees frighted too! oh, dire to say!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why yankees sure at red-coats faint away!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, yes&mdash;They thought so too&mdash;for lack-a-day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their gen'ral turned the <i>blockade</i> to a play:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor vain poltroons&mdash;with justice we'll retort,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And call them <i>blockheads</i> for their idle sport.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Unfortunately, we cannot test the comparative value of satire
+as used by Burgoyne and Mrs. Warren, because the Burgoyne
+play is not in existence. But, undoubtedly, our Revolutionary
+enthusiast knew how to wield her pen in anger, and she reflects
+all of the bitter spirit of the time. Not only is this apparent in
+"The Blockheads," but likewise in "The Group," a piece which
+holds up to ridicule a number of people well known to the Boston
+of that day.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Warren was the writer of many plays, as well as being
+noted for her "History of the American Revolution" (1805),
+and for her slim volume of poems (1790), which follow the conventional
+sentiments of the conventionally sentimental English
+poetry of that time.</p>
+
+<p>In "The Group" we obtain her interesting impressions, in
+dramatic form, of North and Gage and, from the standpoint of
+the library, we regard with reverence the little copy of the play
+printed on the day before the battle of Lexington&mdash;a slim brochure,
+aimed effectively at Tory politicians.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p>
+
+<p>In fact, mention the name Tory to Mrs. Warren, and her wit
+was ever ready to sharpen its shafts against British life in
+America. That is probably why so many believe she wrote
+"The Motley Assembly," a farce, though some there be who
+claim that its authorship belongs to J. M. Sewall. Dr. F. W.
+Atkinson asserts that this was the first American play to have
+in it only American characters.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p>
+
+<p>The satirical farce was a popular dramatic form of the time.
+Mrs. Warren was particularly effective in wielding such a
+polemic note, for instance, when she deals with the Boston
+Massacre in her Tragedy, "The Adulateur" (Boston: Printed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>
+and sold at the New Printing-Office, /Near Concert-Hall./
+M,DCC,LXXIII./). On the King's side, however, the writers
+were just as effective. Such an example is seen in "The Battle
+of Brooklyn, A farce of Two Acts: as it was performed at
+Long-Island, on Tuesday, the 27th of August, 1776, By the
+Representatives of the Tyrants of America, Assembled at
+Philadelphia" (Edinburgh: Printed in the Year M.DCC.
+LXXVII.), in which the British ridicule all that is Continental,
+even Washington. This farce was reprinted in Brooklyn, 1873.</p>
+
+<p>Jonathan Mitchell Sewall's (1748-1808) "A Cure for the
+Spleen; or, Amusement for a Winter's Evening" (1775) was
+another Tory protest, which carried the following pretentious
+subtitle: "Being the substance of a conversation on the Times,
+over a friendly tankard and pipe, between Sharp, a country
+Parson; Bumper, a country Justice; Fillpot, an inn-keeper;
+Graveairs, a Deacon; Trim, a Barber; Brim, a Quaker; Puff,
+a late Representative. Taken in short-hand by Roger de
+Coverly."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Warren was the intimate friend of many interesting
+people. It concerns us, however, that her most significant correspondence
+of a literary nature was carried on with John Adams,
+afterwards President of the United States. This friendship
+remained unbroken until such time as Mrs. Warren found it
+necessary to picture Adams in her History of the Revolution;
+when he objected to the portraiture.</p>
+
+<p>The student of history is beholden to Mr. Adams for many
+of those intimate little sketches of Revolutionary and early
+national life in America, without which our impressions would
+be much the poorer. His admiration for Mrs. Warren was great,
+and even in his correspondence with her husband, James Warren,
+he never allowed an opportunity to slip for alluding to her work
+as a literary force in the life of the time. I note, for example, a
+letter he wrote on December 22, 1773, suggesting a theme which
+would "become" Mrs. Warren's pen, "which has no equal that
+I know of in this country."</p>
+
+<p>In 1775, after "The Group" was written, and, according to
+custom, submitted by Warren to John Adams for criticism and
+approval, we find him praising Mrs. Warren, and quoting from
+her play. So poignantly incisive was Mrs. Warren's satire that
+many people would not credit her with the pieces she actually
+wrote, and there were those who thought it incredible that a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>
+woman should use satire so openly and so flagrantly as she.
+The consequence is, many of her contemporaries attributed the
+writing of "The Group" to masculine hands, and this attitude
+drew from Mrs. Warren the following letter written to Mr.
+Adams:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>My next question, sir, you may deem impertinent. Do you remember
+who was the author of a little pamphlet entitled, <i>The Group?</i>
+To your hand it was committed by the writer. You brought it forward
+to the public eye. I will therefore give you my reason for
+naming it now. A friend of mine, who lately visited the Athen&aelig;um
+[a Boston Library], saw it among a bundle of pamphlets, with a
+high encomium of the author, who, he asserted, was Mr. Samuel
+Barrett. You can, if you please, give a written testimony contradictory
+of the false assertion.</p></div>
+
+<p>This letter was written long after the Revolution, when she
+was not loath to let it be known that she was the creator of this
+little play, and is clearly indicative of the general attitude the
+public had toward Mrs. Warren as an author. Her appeal instantly
+called forth a courteous rejoinder from Mr. Adams,
+who wrote:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>What brain could ever have conceived or suspected Samuel Barrett,
+Esquire, to have been the author of "The Group"? The bishop
+has neither the natural genius nor the acquired talents, the knowledge
+of characters, nor the political principles, sentiments, or feelings, that
+could have dictated that pungent drama. His worthy brother, the
+Major, might have been as rationally suspected.</p>
+
+<p>I could take my Bible oath to two propositions, 1st. That Bishop
+Barrett, in my opinion, was one of the last literary characters in the
+world who ought to have been suspected to have written "The
+Group." 2d. That there was but one person in the world, male or
+female, who could at that time, in my opinion, have written it;
+and that person was Madam Mercy Warren, the historical, philosophical,
+poetical, and satirical consort of the then Colonel, since
+General, James Warren of Plymouth, sister of the great, but forgotten,
+James Otis.</p></div>
+
+<p>According to Adams, he immediately went to the Boston
+Athen&aelig;um, where his nephew, W. S. Shaw, was Librarian. He
+drew from the shelves a copy of "The Group", which had been
+bought from the collection of Governor Adams of Massachusetts,
+and forthwith, on looking it over, wrote down the original<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>
+names of the people satirized therein.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> This copy is still a valuable
+possession of the library.</p>
+
+<p>While Mrs. Warren was writing "The Group," she sent it
+piecemeal to her husband, who was on the field of battle. He,
+being proud of the literary attainments of his wife, sent it
+around to his friends, under seal of secrecy. And his appeal to
+these friends was very significant of the pride he felt in the manuscript.
+Here is what he wrote to Adams, on January 15, 1775:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Inclosed are for your amusement two Acts of a dramatic performance
+composed at my particular desire. They go to you as they
+came out of the hand of the Copier, without pointing or marking.
+If you think it worth while to make any other use of them than a
+reading, you will prepare them in that way &amp; give them such
+other Corrections &amp; Amendments as your good Judgment shall
+suggest.</p></div>
+
+<p>It gradually became known among Warren's friends who the
+real writer of the satire was, much to the consternation of Mrs.
+Mercy Warren. She was modest to the extreme, usually being
+thrust into writing on particular subjects by the enthusiasm of
+her friends. For example, she wrote a poem on the Boston
+Tea Party, and, in sending it to her husband, she confessed that
+it was a task</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>done in consequence of the request of a much respected friend. It
+was wrote off with little attention.... I do not think it has sufficient
+merit for the public eye.</p></div>
+
+<p>By the same post, she sent him another scene from "The
+Group."</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Whatever you do with either of them [meaning the manuscripts],
+you will doubtless be careful that the author is not exposed, and hope
+your particular friends will be convinced of the propriety of not
+naming her at present.</p></div>
+
+<p>Mrs. Warren was the author of several other plays, among
+them "The Adulateur" and "The Retreat," which preceded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>
+"The Group" in date of composition, and "The Sack of Rome."
+The latter was contained in a volume of poems issued in 1790,
+in which "The Ladies of Castile" was dedicated to President
+Washington, who wrote the author a courteous note in acknowledgment.</p>
+
+<p>In the preface to this volume, Mrs. Warren gives her impressions
+of the stage, which are excellent measure of the regard
+Americans of this period had for the moral influence of the playhouse.
+Thus, she writes:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Theatrical amusements may, sometimes, have been prostituted
+to the purposes of vice; yet, in an age of taste and refinement, lessons
+of morality, and the consequences of deviation, may, perhaps,
+be as successfully enforced from the stage, as by modes of instruction,
+less censured by the severe; while, at the same time, the exhibition
+of great historical events, opens a field of contemplation to the
+reflecting and philosophic mind.</p></div>
+
+<p>But Mrs. Warren was not entirely given over to the serious
+occupations of literary work. We find her on intimate terms
+with Mrs. Adams, the two of them in their daily association
+calling each other <i>Portia</i> and <i>Marcia</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Who actually played in "The Group" when it was given a
+performance is not recorded. We know, however, from records,
+that it was given for the delectation of the audiences assembled
+"nigh head quarters, at Amboyne." This evidence is on the
+strength of Mrs. Warren's own statement. Sanction for the
+statement appears on the title-pages of the New York, John
+Anderson, issue of 1775,<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> and the Jamaica-Philadelphia, James
+Humphreys, Jr., edition of the same year.</p>
+
+<p>I have selected this play, "The Group," as being an excellent
+example of the partisan writing done at the time of our American
+Revolution, and no one can afford to overlook it, although
+its actable qualities, according to our present-day judgment,
+are doubtful.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Mrs. Warren was born at Barnstable, Mass., September 25, 1728, and died at
+Plymouth, Mass., October 19, 1814.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The/Blockheads:/or, the/Affrighted Officers. /A/Farce. /Boston:/ Printed in
+Queen-Street,/M,DCC,LXXVI./</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> On the title-page of the Boston edition there appears the following proem:
+"As the great business of the polite world is the eager pursuit of amusement, and
+as the Public diversions of the season have been interrupted by the hostile parade
+in the capital; the exhibition of a new farce may not be unentertaining."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The /Motley /Assembly, /A /Farce. /Published /For the /Entertainment /of the /
+Curious. /Boston: /Printed and Sold by Nathaniel Coverly, in /Newbury-Street, /
+M,DCC,LXXIX./</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Mrs. Warren's biographer, Alice Brown, quotes the list, as follows, the persons
+satirized being in parentheses: Lord Chief Justice Hazlerod (Oliver); Judge
+Meagre (E. Hutchinson); Brigadier Hateall (Ruggles); Hum Humbug, Esq.,
+(Jno. Erving); Sir Sparrow Spendall (Sir Wm. Pepperell); Hector Mushroom
+(Col. Murray); Beau Trumps (Jno. Vassall); Dick, the Publican (Lechmere);
+Monsieur de Fran&ccedil;ois (N. R. Thomas); Crusty Crowbar, Esq. (J. Boutineau);
+Dupe,&mdash;Secretary of State (T. Flucker); Scriblerius Fribble (Leonard); Commodore
+Bateau (Loring). The significance of these names will be apparent to
+student of local Colonial history.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> The /Group,/ A / Farce: / As lately Acted, and to be Re-acted, to the Wonder/
+of all superior Intelligences; /Nigh Head Quarters, at/ Amboyne. /In Two Acts./
+New-York: / Printed by John Anderson,/ at Beekman's-Slip./ [The Boston edition
+was printed and sold by Edes and Gill, in Queen-Street, 1775.]</p></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter gap3" style="width: 358px;">
+<img src="images/image_221.png" width="358" height="573" alt="THE GROUP, A FARCE:" title="THE GROUP, A FARCE:" />
+<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fac-Simile Title-Page of the First Edition</span></span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<p class="gap3"><a name="PROLOGUE" id="PROLOGUE"></a>The <span class="smcap">Author</span> has thought proper to borrow the following
+spirited lines from a late celebrated Poet, and offer to the public,
+by way of <span class="smcap">Prologue</span>, which cannot fail of pleasing at this crisis.</p>
+
+
+<p class="center gap2">PROLOGUE</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i><span class="smcap">What!</span> arm'd for virtue, and not point the pen,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Brand the bold front of shameless guilty men,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Dash the proud gamester from his gilded car,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Bare the mean heart which lurks beneath a star,</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center">*&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;*</p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Shall I not strip the gilding off a knave,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Unplac'd, unpension'd, no man's heir, or slave?</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>I will, or perish in the gen'rous cause;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Hear this and tremble, ye who 'scape the laws;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Yes, while I live, no rich or noble knave,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Shall walk the world in credit to his grave;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>To virtue only, and her friends, a friend,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The world beside may murmur, or commend.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="DRAMATIS_PERSONAE" id="DRAMATIS_PERSONAE"></a>DRAMATIS PERSON&AElig;</h2>
+
+
+<table summary="Dramatis Personae">
+<tr>
+<td><i>Lord Chief Justice <span class="smcap">Hazlerod</span></i>,</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i>Judge <span class="smcap">Meagre</span></i>,</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i>Brigadier <span class="smcap">Hateall</span></i>,</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i><span class="smcap">Hum Humbug</span>, Esquire</i>,</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i>Sir <span class="smcap">Sparrow Spendall</span></i>,</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i><span class="smcap">Hector Mushroom</span>,&mdash;Col.</i></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i><span class="smcap">Beau Trumps</span></i>,</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i><span class="smcap">Dick</span>, the Publican</i>,</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i><span class="smcap">Simple Sapling</span>, Esquire</i>,</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i>Monsieur de <span class="smcap">Fran&ccedil;ois</span></i>,</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i><span class="smcap">Crusty Crowbar</span>, Esquire</i>,</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i><span class="smcap">Dupe</span>,&mdash;Secretary of State</i>,</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i><span class="smcap">Scriblerius Fribble</span></i>,</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i>Commodore <span class="smcap">Bateau</span></i>,</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><i><span class="smcap">Collateralis</span>,&mdash;a new-made Judge</i>.</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="hangindent">Attended by a swarm of court sycophants, hungry harpies, and
+unprincipled danglers, collected from the neighbouring villages,
+hovering over the stage in the shape of locusts, led by
+Massachusettensis in the form of a basilisk; the rear brought
+up by Proteus, bearing a torch in one hand, and a powder-flask
+in the other. The whole supported by a mighty army and
+navy, from Blunderland, for the laudable purpose of enslaving
+its best friends.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3 class="gap3"><i>The</i></h3>
+
+<h2>GROUP</h2>
+
+<h3><i>A</i></h3>
+
+<h3><i>Farce</i></h3>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="ACT_I" id="ACT_I"></a>ACT I.</h2>
+
+
+<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span> <i>A little dark Parlour in Boston:</i></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Guards</span> standing at the door.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Hazlerod</span>, <span class="smcap">Crusty Crowbar</span>, <span class="smcap">Simple Sapling</span>, <span class="smcap">Hateall</span>,
+and <span class="smcap">Hector Mushroom</span>.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Simple.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">I know not what to think of these sad times,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The people arm'd,&mdash;and all resolv'd to die<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere they'll submit.&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Crusty Crowbar.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">I too am almost sick of the parade<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of honours purchas'd at the price of peace.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Simple.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Fond as I am of greatness and her charms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Elate with prospects of my rising name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Push'd into place,&mdash;a place I ne'er expected,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My bounding heart leapt in my feeble breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ecstasies entranc'd my slender brain.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But yet, ere this I hop'd more solid gains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As my low purse demands a quick supply.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor Sylvia weeps,&mdash;and urges my return<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To rural peace and humble happiness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As my ambition beggars all her babes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Crusty.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">When first I listed in the desp'rate cause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And blindly swore obedience to his will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So wise, so just, so good I thought Rapatio,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That if salvation rested on his word<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'd pin my faith, and risk my hopes thereon.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Hazlerod.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Any why not now?&mdash;What staggers thy belief?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Crusty.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Himself&mdash;his perfidy appears&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is too plain he has betray'd his country;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we're the wretched tools by him mark'd out<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To seal its ruins&mdash;tear up the ancient forms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And every vestige treacherously destroy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor leave a trait of freedom in the land.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor did I think hard fate wou'd call me up<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From drudging o'er my acres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Treading the glade, and sweating at the plough,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To dangle at the tables of the great;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At bowls and cards to spend my frozen years;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To sell my friends, my country, and my conscience;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Profane the sacred sabbaths of my God;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scorn'd by the very men who want my aid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To spread distress o'er this devoted people.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Hazlerod.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Pho&mdash;what misgivings&mdash;why these idle qualms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This shrinking backwards at the bugbear conscience;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In early life I heard the phantom nam'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the grave sages prate of moral sense<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Presiding in the bosom of the just;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or planting thongs about the guilty heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bound by these shackles, long my lab'ring mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Obscurely trod the lower walks of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In hopes by honesty my bread to gain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But neither commerce, or my conjuring rods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor yet mechanics, or new fangled drills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or all the iron-monger's curious arts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gave me a competence of shining ore,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or gratify'd my itching palm for more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till I dismiss'd the bold intruding guest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And banish'd conscience from my wounded breast.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Crusty.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Happy expedient!&mdash;Could I gain the art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then balmy sleep might sooth my waking lids,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rest once more refresh my weary soul.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Hazlerod.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Resolv'd more rapidly to gain my point,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I mounted high in justice's sacred seat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With flowing robes, and head equip'd without,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A heart unfeeling and a stubborn soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As qualify'd as e'er a Jefferies was;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save in the knotty rudiments of law,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The smallest requisite for modern times,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When wisdom, law, and justice are supply'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By swords, dragoons, and ministerial nods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sanctions most sacred in the Pander's creed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I sold my country for a splendid bribe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now let her sink&mdash;and all the dire alarms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of war, confusion, pestilence, and blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tenfold mis'ry be her future doom&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let civil discord lift her sword on high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay, sheath its hilt e'en in my brother's blood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It ne'er shall move the purpose of my soul;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho' once I trembled at a thought so bold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Philalethes's arguments, convinc'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We may live Demons, as we die like brutes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I give my tears, and conscience to the winds.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Hateall.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Curse on their coward fears, and dastard souls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their soft compunctions and relented qualms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Compassion ne'er shall seize my steadfast breast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though blood and carnage spread thro' all the land;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till streaming purple tinge the verdant turf,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till ev'ry street shall float with human gore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I Nero-like, the capital in flames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">could laugh to see her glotted sons expire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho' much too rough my soul to touch the lyre.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Simple.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">I fear the brave, the injur'd multitude,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Repeated wrongs, arouse them to resent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And every patriot like old Brutus stands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shining steel half drawn&mdash;its glitt'ring point<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scarce hid beneath the scabbard's friendly cell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resolv'd to die, or see their country free.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Hateall.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Then let them die&mdash;<i>The dogs we will keep down</i>&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While N&mdash;&mdash;'s my friend, and G&mdash;&mdash; approves the deed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho' hell and all its hell-hounds should unite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'll not recede to save from swift perdition<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My wife, my country, family, or friends.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">G&mdash;&mdash;'s mandamus I more highly prize<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than all the mandates of th' etherial king.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Hector Mushroom.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Will our abettors in the distant towns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Support us long against the common cause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When they shall see from Hampshire's northern bounds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thro' the wide western plains to southern shores<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The whole united continent in arms?&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Hateall.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">They shall&mdash;as sure as oaths or bond can bind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I've boldly sent my new-born brat abroad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th' association of my morbid brain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To which each minion must affix his name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As all our hope depends on brutal force,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On quick destruction, misery, and death;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon may we see dark ruin stalk around,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With murder, rapine, and inflicted pains;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Estates confiscate, slav'ry, and despair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wrecks, halters, axes, gibbeting and chains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the dread ills that wait on civil war;&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How I could glut my vengeful eyes to see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The weeping maid thrown helpless on the world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her sire cut off.&mdash;Her orphan brothers stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the big tear rolls down the manly cheek.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Robb'd of maternal care by grief's keen shaft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sorrowing mother mourns her starving babes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her murder'd lord torn guiltless from her side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flees for shelter to the pitying grave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To screen at once from slavery and pain.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Hazlerod.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">But more complete I view this scene of woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the incursions of a savage foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of which I warn'd them, if they dare refuse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The badge of slaves, and bold resistance use.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now let them suffer&mdash;I'll no pity feel.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Hateall.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Nor I!&mdash;&mdash;But had I power, as I have the will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'd send them murm'ring to the shades of hell.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center"><i>End of the First Act.</i></p>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="ACT_II" id="ACT_II"></a>ACT II.</h2>
+
+<div class="hangindent"><p><i>The scene changes to a large dining room. The table furnished
+with bowls, bottles, glasses, and cards.&mdash;&mdash;The Group appear
+sitting round in a restless attitude. In one corner of the room is
+discovered a small cabinet of books, for the use of the studious and
+contemplative; containing, Hobbs's Leviathan, Sipthorp's Sermons,
+Hutchinson's History, Fable of the Bees, Philalethes on
+Philanthropy, with an appendix by Massachusettensis, Hoyl
+on Whist, Lives of the Stuarts, Statutes of Henry the Eighth, and
+William the Conqueror, Wedderburne's speeches, and acts of
+Parliament, for 1774.</i></p></div>
+
+
+<p class="center gap3"><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Hateall</span>, <span class="smcap">Hazlerod</span>, <span class="smcap">Monsieur</span>, <span class="smcap">Beau Trumps</span>, <span class="smcap">Simple</span>,
+<span class="smcap">Humbug</span>, <span class="smcap">Sir Sparrow</span>, &amp;c., &amp;c.</i></p>
+
+<div class="poem"></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scriblerius.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">&mdash;&mdash;Thy toast, Monsieur,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pray, why that solemn phiz:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Art thou, too, balancing 'twixt right and wrong?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hast thou a thought so mean as to give up<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy present good, for promise in reversion?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis true hereafter has some feeble terrors,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ere our grizzly heads are wrapt in clay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We may compound, and make our peace with Heav'n.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Monsieur.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Could I give up the dread of retribution,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The awful reck'ning of some future day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like surly Hateall I might curse mankind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dare the threat'ned vengeance of the skies.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0 lfloat">Or like yon apostate&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<div class="stagedir">&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Pointing&nbsp;to&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Hazlerod</span>,&nbsp;retired&nbsp;to&nbsp;a&nbsp;corner to&nbsp;read&nbsp;Massachusettensis.</i><br /></div>
+<span class="i6">Feel but slight remorse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To sell my country for a grasp of gold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the impressions of my early youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Infix'd by precepts of my pious sire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are stings and scorpions in my goaded breast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft have I hung upon my parent's knee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And heard him tell of his escape from France;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He left the land of slaves, and wooden shoes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From place to place he sought a safe retreat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till fair Bostonia stretch'd her friendly arm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gave the refugee both bread and peace:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Shall I ungrateful 'rase the sacred bonds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And help to clank the tyrant's iron chains<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er these blest shores&mdash;once the sure asylum<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From all the ills of arbitrary sway?)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With his expiring breath he bade his sons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If e'er oppression reach'd the western world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resist its force, and break the servile yoke.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Scriblerius.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Well quit thy post;&mdash;&mdash;Go make thy flatt'ring court<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Freedom's Sons and tell thy baby fears;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shew the foot traces in thy puny heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made by the trembling tongue and quiv'ring lip<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of an old grandsire's superstitious whims.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Monsieur.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">No,&mdash;&mdash;I never can&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So great the itch I feel for titl'd place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some honorary post, some small distinction,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To save my name from dark oblivion's jaws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'll hazard all, but ne'er give up my place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For <i>that</i> I'll see Rome's ancient rites restor'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flame and faggot blaze in ev'ry street.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Beau Trumps.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">&mdash;&mdash;That's right, Monsieur,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There's nought on earth that has such tempting charms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As rank and show, and pomp, and glitt'ring dress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save the dear counters at belov'd Quadril,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Viner unsoil'd, and Littleton, may sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Coke lie mould'ring on the dusty shelf,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If I by shuffling draw some lucky card<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That wins the livres, or lucrative place.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Hum Humbug.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">When sly Rapatio shew'd his friends the scroll,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wonder'd much to see thy patriot name<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among the list of rebels to the state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thought thee one of Rusticus's sworn friends.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Beau Trumps.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">When first I enter'd on the public stage<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My country groan'd beneath base Brundo's hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Virtue look'd fair and beckon'd to her lure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thro' truth's bright mirror I beheld her charms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wish'd to tread the patriotic path<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wear the laurels that adorn his fame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I walk'd a while and tasted solid peace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Cassius, Rusticus, and good Hortensius,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many more, whose names will be rever'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When you, and I, and all the venal herd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weigh'd in Nemesis, just impartial scale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are mark'd with infamy, till time blot out<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in oblivion sink our hated names.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But 'twas a poor unprofitable path,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nought to be gain'd, save solid peace of mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No pensions, place or title there I found;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw Rapatio's arts had struck so deep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And giv'n his country such a fatal wound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">None but his foes promotion could expect;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I trim'd, and pimp'd, and veer'd, and wav'ring stood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But half resolv'd to shew myself a knave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the Arch Traitor prowling round for aid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw my suspense and bade me doubt no more;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He gently bow'd, and smiling took my hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And whispering softly in my list'ning ear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shew'd me my name among his chosen band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And laugh'd at virtue dignifi'd by fools,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clear'd all my doubts, and bade me persevere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In spite of the restraints, or hourly checks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of wounded friendship, and a goaded mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or all the sacred ties of truth and honour.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Collateralis.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Come, 'mongst ourselves we'll e'en speak out the truth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can you suppose there yet is such a dupe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As still believes that wretch an honest man?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The later strokes of his serpentine brain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Outvie the arts of Machiavel himself,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Borgian model here is realiz'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the stale tricks of politicians play'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath a vizard fair&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">&mdash;&mdash;Drawn from the heav'nly form<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of blest religion weeping o'er the land<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For virtue fall'n, and for freedom lost.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Beau Trumps.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">I think with you&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&mdash;&mdash;unparalleled his effront'ry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When by chican'ry and specious art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Midst the distress in which he'd brought the city,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He found a few (by artifice and cunning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By much industry of his wily friend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The false Philanthrop&mdash;&mdash;sly undermining tool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who with the Syren's voice&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deals daily round the poison of his tongue)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To speak him fair&mdash;and overlook his guilt.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They by reiterated promise made<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To stand his friend at Britain's mighty court,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vindicate his native injur'd land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lent him their names to sanctify his deeds.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But mark the traitor&mdash;&mdash;his high crimes gloss'd o'er<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Conceals the tender feelings of the man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The social ties that bind the human heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He strikes a bargain with his country's foes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And joins to wrap America in flames.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet with feign'd pity, and Satanic grin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if more deep to fix the keen insult,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or make his life a farce still more complete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sends a groan across the broad Atlantic,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with a phiz of Crocodilian stamp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can weep, and wreathe, still hoping to deceive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He cries the gath'ring clouds hang thick about her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But laughs within&mdash;&mdash;then sobs&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">&mdash;&mdash;Alas! my country?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Hum Humbug.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Why so severe, or why exclaim at all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Against the man who made thee what thou art?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p class="center gap2"><span class="smcap">Beau Trumps.</span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">I know his guilt,&mdash;I ever knew the man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy father knew him e'er we trod the stage;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I only speak to such as know him well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Abroad I tell the world he is a saint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as for int'rest I betray'd my own<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the same views, I rank'd among his friends:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But my ambition sighs for something more.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What merits has Sir Sparrow of his own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet a feather graces the fool's cap:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which did he wear for what himself achiev'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twould stamp some honour on his latest heir&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I'll suspend my murm'ring care awhile;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, t' other glass&mdash;&mdash;and try our luck at Loo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if before the dawn your gold I win,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or e'er bright Ph&oelig;bus does his course begin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The eastern breeze from Britain's hostile shore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should waft her lofty floating towers o'er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose waving pendants sweep the wat'ry main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dip their proud beaks and dance towards the plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The destin'd plains of slaughter and distress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Laden with troops from Hanover and Hess,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It would invigorate my sinking soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For then the continent we might control;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not all the millions that she vainly boasts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can cope with Veteran Barbarian hosts;&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the brave sons of Albion's warlike race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their arms, and honours, never can disgrace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or draw their swords in such a hated cause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In blood to seal a N&mdash;&mdash;'s oppressive laws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They'll spurn the service;&mdash;&mdash;Britons must recoil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And shew themselves the natives of an isle<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who sought for freedom, in the worst of times<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Produc'd her Hampdens, Fairfaxes, and Pyms.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But if by carnage we should win the game,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perhaps by my abilities and fame:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I might attain a splendid glitt'ring car,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mount aloft, and sail in liquid air.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like Pha&euml;ton, I'd then out-strip the wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leave my low competitors behind.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Finis.</i></p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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+</pre>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Group, by Mercy Warren
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Group
+       A Farce
+
+Author: Mercy Warren
+
+Editor: Montrose J. Moses
+
+Release Date: June 26, 2009 [EBook #29224]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GROUP ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES
+
+This e-book contains the text of _The Group_, extracted from
+Representative Plays by American Dramatists: Vol 1, 1765-1819. Comments
+and background to all the plays and the other plays are available at
+Project Gutenberg.
+
+Spelling as in the original has been preserved.
+
+
+
+
+THE GROUP
+
+_By_ MRS. MERCY WARREN
+
+[Illustration: MRS. MERCY WARREN]
+
+
+
+
+MRS. MERCY WARREN
+
+(1728-1814)
+
+
+Most of the literature--orations as well as broadsides--created in
+America under the heat of the Revolution, was of a strictly satirical
+character. Most of the Revolutionary ballads sung at the time were
+bitter with hatred against the Loyalist. When the conflict actually
+was in progress, the theatres that regaled the Colonists were closed,
+and an order from the Continental Congress declared that theatre-going
+was an amusement from which all patriotic people should abstain. These
+orders or resolutions were dated October 12, 1778, and October 16.
+(Seilhamer, ii, 51.) The playhouses were no sooner closed,
+however--much to the regret of Washington--than their doors were
+thrown wide open by the British troops stationed in Boston, New York,
+and Philadelphia. A complete history of the American stage has to deal
+with Howe's players, Clinton's players, and Burgoyne's players.
+
+Of all these Red-Coat Thespians, two demand our attention--one, Major
+Andre, a gay, talented actor; the other, General Burgoyne, whose pride
+was as much concerned with playwriting as with generalship. The latter
+dipped his pen in the satirical inkpot, and wrote a farce, "The
+Blockade of Boston." It was this play that drew forth from a woman, an
+American playwright, the retort stinging. This lady was Mrs. Mercy
+Warren[1] who, although distinguished for being a sister of James
+Otis, and the wife of General James Warren, was in her own name a most
+important and distinct literary figure during the Revolution.
+
+So few women appear in the early history of American Drama that it is
+well here to mention Mrs. Charlotte Ramsay Lennox (1720-1804) and Mrs.
+Susanna Rowson (1762-1824). The former has the reputation of being the
+first woman, born in America, to have written a play, "The Sister"
+(1769). The author moved to London when she was fifteen, and there it
+was her piece was produced, with an epilogue by Oliver Goldsmith. She
+is referred to in Boswell's Life of Johnson.
+
+Of Susanna Rowson, whose Memoir has been issued by Rev. Elias Nason,
+we know that, as a singer and actress, she created sufficient
+reputation in London to attract the attention of Wignell, the
+comedian. (Clapp. Boston Stage. 1853, p. 41.)
+
+With her husband, she came to this country in 1793, and, apart from
+her professional duties on the stage, wrote a farce, "Volunteers"
+(1795), dealing with the Whiskey Insurrection in Pennsylvania, "The
+Female Patriot" (1794), "Slaves in Algiers; or, A Struggle for
+Freedom" (1794), and "Americans in England" (1796). All of these were
+produced. Her literary attainments were wide, her most popular novel
+being "Charlotte Temple, a Tale of Truth" (1790). She likewise
+compiled many educational works. (See Wegelin.)
+
+The picture conjured up in our mind of Mrs. Warren is farthest away
+from satire. To judge by the costume she wore when she sat to Copley
+for her portrait, she must have been graced with all the feminine
+wiles of the period. Behold Mrs. Mercy Warren, satirist, as the
+records describe her:
+
+    Her head-dress is of white lace, trimmed with white satin
+    ribbons. Her robe is of dark-green satin, with a pompadour
+    waist, trimmed with point lace. There is a full plait at the
+    back, hanging from the shoulders, and her sleeves are also of
+    point lace. White illusion, trimmed with point lace, and
+    fastened with a white satin bow, covers her neck. The front of
+    the skirt and of the sleeves are elaborately trimmed with
+    puffings of satin.
+
+But however agreeable this picture may be, Mrs. Warren, on reading
+Burgoyne's farce, immediately sharpened her pen, and replied by
+writing a counter-farce, which she called "The Blockheads; or, the
+Affrighted Officers."[2] It was in the prologue to this play that the
+poet-dramatist wrote:
+
+    Your pardon first I crave for this intrusion.
+    The topic's such it looks like a delusion;
+    And next your candour, for I swear and vow,
+    Such an attempt I never made till now.
+    But constant laughing at the Desp'rate fate,
+    The bastard sons of Mars endur'd of late,
+    Induc'd me thus to minute down the notion,
+    Which put my risibles in such commotion.
+    By yankees frighted too! oh, dire to say!
+    Why yankees sure at red-coats faint away!
+    Oh, yes--They thought so too--for lack-a-day,
+    Their gen'ral turned the _blockade_ to a play:
+    Poor vain poltroons--with justice we'll retort,
+    And call them _blockheads_ for their idle sport.
+
+Unfortunately, we cannot test the comparative value of satire as used
+by Burgoyne and Mrs. Warren, because the Burgoyne play is not in
+existence. But, undoubtedly, our Revolutionary enthusiast knew how to
+wield her pen in anger, and she reflects all of the bitter spirit of
+the time. Not only is this apparent in "The Blockheads," but likewise
+in "The Group," a piece which holds up to ridicule a number of people
+well known to the Boston of that day.
+
+Mrs. Warren was the writer of many plays, as well as being noted for
+her "History of the American Revolution" (1805), and for her slim
+volume of poems (1790), which follow the conventional sentiments of
+the conventionally sentimental English poetry of that time.
+
+In "The Group" we obtain her interesting impressions, in dramatic
+form, of North and Gage and, from the standpoint of the library, we
+regard with reverence the little copy of the play printed on the day
+before the battle of Lexington--a slim brochure, aimed effectively at
+Tory politicians.[3]
+
+In fact, mention the name Tory to Mrs. Warren, and her wit was ever
+ready to sharpen its shafts against British life in America. That is
+probably why so many believe she wrote "The Motley Assembly," a farce,
+though some there be who claim that its authorship belongs to J. M.
+Sewall. Dr. F. W. Atkinson asserts that this was the first American
+play to have in it only American characters.[4]
+
+The satirical farce was a popular dramatic form of the time. Mrs.
+Warren was particularly effective in wielding such a polemic note, for
+instance, when she deals with the Boston Massacre in her Tragedy, "The
+Adulateur" (Boston: Printed and sold at the New Printing-Office,
+/Near Concert-Hall./ M,DCC,LXXIII./). On the King's side, however, the
+writers were just as effective. Such an example is seen in "The Battle
+of Brooklyn, A farce of Two Acts: as it was performed at Long-Island,
+on Tuesday, the 27th of August, 1776, By the Representatives of the
+Tyrants of America, Assembled at Philadelphia" (Edinburgh: Printed in
+the Year M.DCC.LXXVII.), in which the British ridicule all that is
+Continental, even Washington. This farce was reprinted in Brooklyn,
+1873.
+
+Jonathan Mitchell Sewall's (1748-1808) "A Cure for the Spleen; or,
+Amusement for a Winter's Evening" (1775) was another Tory protest,
+which carried the following pretentious subtitle: "Being the substance
+of a conversation on the Times, over a friendly tankard and pipe,
+between Sharp, a country Parson; Bumper, a country Justice; Fillpot,
+an inn-keeper; Graveairs, a Deacon; Trim, a Barber; Brim, a Quaker;
+Puff, a late Representative. Taken in short-hand by Roger de Coverly."
+
+Mrs. Warren was the intimate friend of many interesting people. It
+concerns us, however, that her most significant correspondence of a
+literary nature was carried on with John Adams, afterwards President
+of the United States. This friendship remained unbroken until such
+time as Mrs. Warren found it necessary to picture Adams in her History
+of the Revolution; when he objected to the portraiture.
+
+The student of history is beholden to Mr. Adams for many of those
+intimate little sketches of Revolutionary and early national life in
+America, without which our impressions would be much the poorer. His
+admiration for Mrs. Warren was great, and even in his correspondence
+with her husband, James Warren, he never allowed an opportunity to
+slip for alluding to her work as a literary force in the life of the
+time. I note, for example, a letter he wrote on December 22, 1773,
+suggesting a theme which would "become" Mrs. Warren's pen, "which has
+no equal that I know of in this country."
+
+In 1775, after "The Group" was written, and, according to custom,
+submitted by Warren to John Adams for criticism and approval, we find
+him praising Mrs. Warren, and quoting from her play. So poignantly
+incisive was Mrs. Warren's satire that many people would not credit
+her with the pieces she actually wrote, and there were those who
+thought it incredible that a woman should use satire so openly and so
+flagrantly as she. The consequence is, many of her contemporaries
+attributed the writing of "The Group" to masculine hands, and this
+attitude drew from Mrs. Warren the following letter written to Mr.
+Adams:
+
+    My next question, sir, you may deem impertinent. Do you remember
+    who was the author of a little pamphlet entitled, _The Group?_
+    To your hand it was committed by the writer. You brought it
+    forward to the public eye. I will therefore give you my reason
+    for naming it now. A friend of mine, who lately visited the
+    Athenaeum [a Boston Library], saw it among a bundle of pamphlets,
+    with a high encomium of the author, who, he asserted, was Mr.
+    Samuel Barrett. You can, if you please, give a written testimony
+    contradictory of the false assertion.
+
+This letter was written long after the Revolution, when she was not
+loath to let it be known that she was the creator of this little play,
+and is clearly indicative of the general attitude the public had
+toward Mrs. Warren as an author. Her appeal instantly called forth a
+courteous rejoinder from Mr. Adams, who wrote:
+
+    What brain could ever have conceived or suspected Samuel
+    Barrett, Esquire, to have been the author of "The Group"? The
+    bishop has neither the natural genius nor the acquired talents,
+    the knowledge of characters, nor the political principles,
+    sentiments, or feelings, that could have dictated that pungent
+    drama. His worthy brother, the Major, might have been as
+    rationally suspected.
+
+    I could take my Bible oath to two propositions, 1st. That Bishop
+    Barrett, in my opinion, was one of the last literary characters
+    in the world who ought to have been suspected to have written
+    "The Group." 2d. That there was but one person in the world,
+    male or female, who could at that time, in my opinion, have
+    written it; and that person was Madam Mercy Warren, the
+    historical, philosophical, poetical, and satirical consort of
+    the then Colonel, since General, James Warren of Plymouth,
+    sister of the great, but forgotten, James Otis.
+
+According to Adams, he immediately went to the Boston Athenaeum, where
+his nephew, W. S. Shaw, was Librarian. He drew from the shelves a copy
+of "The Group", which had been bought from the collection of Governor
+Adams of Massachusetts, and forthwith, on looking it over, wrote down
+the original names of the people satirized therein.[5] This copy is
+still a valuable possession of the library.
+
+While Mrs. Warren was writing "The Group," she sent it piecemeal to
+her husband, who was on the field of battle. He, being proud of the
+literary attainments of his wife, sent it around to his friends, under
+seal of secrecy. And his appeal to these friends was very significant
+of the pride he felt in the manuscript. Here is what he wrote to
+Adams, on January 15, 1775:
+
+    Inclosed are for your amusement two Acts of a dramatic
+    performance composed at my particular desire. They go to you as
+    they came out of the hand of the Copier, without pointing or
+    marking. If you think it worth while to make any other use of
+    them than a reading, you will prepare them in that way & give
+    them such other Corrections & Amendments as your good Judgment
+    shall suggest.
+
+It gradually became known among Warren's friends who the real writer
+of the satire was, much to the consternation of Mrs. Mercy Warren. She
+was modest to the extreme, usually being thrust into writing on
+particular subjects by the enthusiasm of her friends. For example, she
+wrote a poem on the Boston Tea Party, and, in sending it to her
+husband, she confessed that it was a task
+
+    done in consequence of the request of a much respected friend.
+    It was wrote off with little attention.... I do not think it has
+    sufficient merit for the public eye.
+
+By the same post, she sent him another scene from "The Group."
+
+    Whatever you do with either of them [meaning the manuscripts],
+    you will doubtless be careful that the author is not exposed,
+    and hope your particular friends will be convinced of the
+    propriety of not naming her at present.
+
+Mrs. Warren was the author of several other plays, among them "The
+Adulateur" and "The Retreat," which preceded "The Group" in date of
+composition, and "The Sack of Rome." The latter was contained in a
+volume of poems issued in 1790, in which "The Ladies of Castile" was
+dedicated to President Washington, who wrote the author a courteous
+note in acknowledgment.
+
+In the preface to this volume, Mrs. Warren gives her impressions of
+the stage, which are excellent measure of the regard Americans of this
+period had for the moral influence of the playhouse. Thus, she writes:
+
+    Theatrical amusements may, sometimes, have been prostituted to
+    the purposes of vice; yet, in an age of taste and refinement,
+    lessons of morality, and the consequences of deviation, may,
+    perhaps, be as successfully enforced from the stage, as by modes
+    of instruction, less censured by the severe; while, at the same
+    time, the exhibition of great historical events, opens a field
+    of contemplation to the reflecting and philosophic mind.
+
+But Mrs. Warren was not entirely given over to the serious occupations
+of literary work. We find her on intimate terms with Mrs. Adams, the
+two of them in their daily association calling each other _Portia_ and
+_Marcia_.
+
+Who actually played in "The Group" when it was given a performance is
+not recorded. We know, however, from records, that it was given for the
+delectation of the audiences assembled "nigh head quarters, at Amboyne."
+This evidence is on the strength of Mrs. Warren's own statement.
+Sanction for the statement appears on the title-pages of the New York,
+John Anderson, issue of 1775,[6] and the Jamaica-Philadelphia, James
+Humphreys, Jr., edition of the same year.
+
+I have selected this play, "The Group," as being an excellent example
+of the partisan writing done at the time of our American Revolution,
+and no one can afford to overlook it, although its actable qualities,
+according to our present-day judgment, are doubtful.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] Mrs. Warren was born at Barnstable, Mass., September 25, 1728, and
+died at Plymouth, Mass., October 19, 1814.
+
+[2] The/Blockheads:/or, the/Affrighted Officers. /A/Farce. /Boston:/
+Printed in Queen-Street,/M,DCC,LXXVI./
+
+[3] On the title-page of the Boston edition there appears the
+following proem: "As the great business of the polite world is the
+eager pursuit of amusement, and as the Public diversions of the season
+have been interrupted by the hostile parade in the capital; the
+exhibition of a new farce may not be unentertaining."
+
+[4] The /Motley /Assembly, /A /Farce. /Published /For the
+/Entertainment /of the / Curious. /Boston: /Printed and Sold by
+Nathaniel Coverly, in /Newbury-Street, / M,DCC,LXXIX./
+
+[5] Mrs. Warren's biographer, Alice Brown, quotes the list, as
+follows, the persons satirized being in parentheses: Lord Chief
+Justice Hazlerod (Oliver); Judge Meagre (E. Hutchinson); Brigadier
+Hateall (Ruggles); Hum Humbug, Esq., (Jno. Erving); Sir Sparrow
+Spendall (Sir Wm. Pepperell); Hector Mushroom (Col. Murray); Beau
+Trumps (Jno. Vassall); Dick, the Publican (Lechmere); Monsieur de
+Francois (N. R. Thomas); Crusty Crowbar, Esq. (J. Boutineau);
+Dupe,--Secretary of State (T. Flucker); Scriblerius Fribble (Leonard);
+Commodore Bateau (Loring). The significance of these names will be
+apparent to student of local Colonial history.
+
+[6] The /Group,/ A / Farce: / As lately Acted, and to be Re-acted, to
+the Wonder/ of all superior Intelligences; /Nigh Head Quarters, at/
+Amboyne. /In Two Acts./ New-York: / Printed by John Anderson,/ at
+Beekman's-Slip./ [The Boston edition was printed and sold by Edes and
+Gill, in Queen-Street, 1775.]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE
+
+GROUP,
+
+A
+
+FARCE:
+
+As lately Acted, and to be Re-acted, to the Wonder of all superior
+Intelligences;
+
+NIGH HEAD QUARTERS, AT
+
+AMBOYNE.
+
+IN TWO ACTS.
+
+JAMAICA, PRINTED;
+_PHILADELPHIA_, RE-PRINTED;
+BY JAMES HUMPHREYS, junior, in Front-street.
+
+M,DCC,LXXV.
+
+FAC-SIMILE TITLE-PAGE OF THE FIRST EDITION]
+
+
+
+
+The AUTHOR has thought proper to borrow the following spirited lines
+from a late celebrated Poet, and offer to the public, by way of
+PROLOGUE, which cannot fail of pleasing at this crisis.
+
+
+PROLOGUE
+
+_WHAT! arm'd for virtue, and not point the pen,
+Brand the bold front of shameless guilty men,
+Dash the proud gamester from his gilded car,
+Bare the mean heart which lurks beneath a star,_
+
+                 *  *  *
+
+_Shall I not strip the gilding off a knave,
+Unplac'd, unpension'd, no man's heir, or slave?
+I will, or perish in the gen'rous cause;
+Hear this and tremble, ye who 'scape the laws;
+Yes, while I live, no rich or noble knave,
+Shall walk the world in credit to his grave;
+To virtue only, and her friends, a friend,
+The world beside may murmur, or commend._
+
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+_Lord Chief Justice HAZLEROD_,
+_Judge MEAGRE_,
+_Brigadier HATEALL_,
+_HUM HUMBUG, Esquire_,
+_Sir SPARROW SPENDALL_,
+_HECTOR MUSHROOM,--Col._
+_BEAU TRUMPS_,
+_DICK, the Publican_,
+_SIMPLE SAPLING, Esquire_,
+_Monsieur de FRANCOIS_,
+_CRUSTY CROWBAR, Esquire_,
+_DUPE,--Secretary of State_,
+_SCRIBLERIUS FRIBBLE_,
+_Commodore BATEAU_,
+_COLLATERALIS,--a new-made Judge_.
+
+Attended by a swarm of court sycophants, hungry harpies, and
+unprincipled danglers, collected from the neighbouring villages,
+hovering over the stage in the shape of locusts, led by
+Massachusettensis in the form of a basilisk; the rear brought up by
+Proteus, bearing a torch in one hand, and a powder-flask in the other.
+The whole supported by a mighty army and navy, from Blunderland, for
+the laudable purpose of enslaving its best friends.
+
+
+
+
+_The_
+
+GROUP
+
+_A_
+
+_Farce_
+
+
+
+
+ACT I.
+
+
+SCENE I. _A little dark Parlour in Boston:_
+
+_GUARDS standing at the door._
+
+_HAZLEROD, CRUSTY CROWBAR, SIMPLE SAPLING, HATEALL, and HECTOR
+MUSHROOM._
+
+SIMPLE.
+
+  I know not what to think of these sad times,
+The people arm'd,--and all resolv'd to die
+Ere they'll submit.----
+
+CRUSTY CROWBAR.
+
+  I too am almost sick of the parade
+Of honours purchas'd at the price of peace.
+
+SIMPLE.
+
+  Fond as I am of greatness and her charms,
+Elate with prospects of my rising name,
+Push'd into place,--a place I ne'er expected,
+My bounding heart leapt in my feeble breast.
+And ecstasies entranc'd my slender brain.--
+But yet, ere this I hop'd more solid gains,
+As my low purse demands a quick supply.--
+Poor Sylvia weeps,--and urges my return
+To rural peace and humble happiness,
+As my ambition beggars all her babes.
+
+CRUSTY.
+
+  When first I listed in the desp'rate cause,
+And blindly swore obedience to his will,
+So wise, so just, so good I thought Rapatio,
+That if salvation rested on his word
+I'd pin my faith, and risk my hopes thereon.
+
+HAZLEROD.
+
+  Any why not now?--What staggers thy belief?
+
+CRUSTY.
+
+  Himself--his perfidy appears--
+It is too plain he has betray'd his country;
+And we're the wretched tools by him mark'd out
+To seal its ruins--tear up the ancient forms,
+And every vestige treacherously destroy,
+Nor leave a trait of freedom in the land.
+Nor did I think hard fate wou'd call me up
+From drudging o'er my acres,
+Treading the glade, and sweating at the plough,
+To dangle at the tables of the great;
+At bowls and cards to spend my frozen years;
+To sell my friends, my country, and my conscience;
+Profane the sacred sabbaths of my God;
+Scorn'd by the very men who want my aid
+To spread distress o'er this devoted people.
+
+HAZLEROD.
+
+  Pho--what misgivings--why these idle qualms,
+This shrinking backwards at the bugbear conscience;
+In early life I heard the phantom nam'd,
+And the grave sages prate of moral sense
+Presiding in the bosom of the just;
+Or planting thongs about the guilty heart.
+Bound by these shackles, long my lab'ring mind,
+Obscurely trod the lower walks of life,
+In hopes by honesty my bread to gain;
+But neither commerce, or my conjuring rods,
+Nor yet mechanics, or new fangled drills,
+Or all the iron-monger's curious arts,
+Gave me a competence of shining ore,
+Or gratify'd my itching palm for more;
+Till I dismiss'd the bold intruding guest,
+And banish'd conscience from my wounded breast.
+
+CRUSTY.
+
+  Happy expedient!--Could I gain the art,
+Then balmy sleep might sooth my waking lids,
+And rest once more refresh my weary soul.
+
+HAZLEROD.
+
+  Resolv'd more rapidly to gain my point,
+I mounted high in justice's sacred seat,
+With flowing robes, and head equip'd without,
+A heart unfeeling and a stubborn soul,
+As qualify'd as e'er a Jefferies was;
+Save in the knotty rudiments of law,
+The smallest requisite for modern times,
+When wisdom, law, and justice are supply'd
+By swords, dragoons, and ministerial nods,
+Sanctions most sacred in the Pander's creed,
+I sold my country for a splendid bribe.
+Now let her sink--and all the dire alarms
+Of war, confusion, pestilence, and blood,
+And tenfold mis'ry be her future doom--
+Let civil discord lift her sword on high,
+Nay, sheath its hilt e'en in my brother's blood;
+It ne'er shall move the purpose of my soul;
+Tho' once I trembled at a thought so bold;
+By Philalethes's arguments, convinc'd,
+We may live Demons, as we die like brutes,
+I give my tears, and conscience to the winds.
+
+HATEALL.
+
+  Curse on their coward fears, and dastard souls,
+Their soft compunctions and relented qualms,
+Compassion ne'er shall seize my steadfast breast
+Though blood and carnage spread thro' all the land;
+Till streaming purple tinge the verdant turf,
+Till ev'ry street shall float with human gore,
+I Nero-like, the capital in flames,
+could laugh to see her glotted sons expire,
+Tho' much too rough my soul to touch the lyre.
+
+SIMPLE.
+
+  I fear the brave, the injur'd multitude,
+Repeated wrongs, arouse them to resent,
+And every patriot like old Brutus stands,
+The shining steel half drawn--its glitt'ring point
+Scarce hid beneath the scabbard's friendly cell,
+Resolv'd to die, or see their country free.
+
+HATEALL.
+
+  Then let them die--_The dogs we will keep down_--
+While N----'s my friend, and G---- approves the deed,
+Tho' hell and all its hell-hounds should unite,
+I'll not recede to save from swift perdition
+My wife, my country, family, or friends.
+G----'s mandamus I more highly prize
+Than all the mandates of th' etherial king.
+
+HECTOR MUSHROOM.
+
+  Will our abettors in the distant towns
+Support us long against the common cause,
+When they shall see from Hampshire's northern bounds
+Thro' the wide western plains to southern shores
+The whole united continent in arms?----
+
+HATEALL.
+
+  They shall--as sure as oaths or bond can bind;
+I've boldly sent my new-born brat abroad,
+Th' association of my morbid brain,
+To which each minion must affix his name,
+As all our hope depends on brutal force,
+On quick destruction, misery, and death;
+Soon may we see dark ruin stalk around,
+With murder, rapine, and inflicted pains;
+Estates confiscate, slav'ry, and despair,
+Wrecks, halters, axes, gibbeting and chains,
+All the dread ills that wait on civil war;----
+How I could glut my vengeful eyes to see
+The weeping maid thrown helpless on the world,
+Her sire cut off.--Her orphan brothers stand,
+While the big tear rolls down the manly cheek.
+Robb'd of maternal care by grief's keen shaft,
+The sorrowing mother mourns her starving babes,
+Her murder'd lord torn guiltless from her side,
+And flees for shelter to the pitying grave
+To screen at once from slavery and pain.
+
+HAZLEROD.
+
+  But more complete I view this scene of woe,
+By the incursions of a savage foe,
+Of which I warn'd them, if they dare refuse
+The badge of slaves, and bold resistance use.
+Now let them suffer--I'll no pity feel.
+
+HATEALL.
+
+  Nor I!----But had I power, as I have the will,
+I'd send them murm'ring to the shades of hell.
+
+_End of the First Act._
+
+
+
+
+ACT II.
+
+_The scene changes to a large dining room. The table furnished with
+  bowls, bottles, glasses, and cards.----The Group appear sitting
+  round in a restless attitude. In one corner of the room is discovered
+  a small cabinet of books, for the use of the studious and
+  contemplative; containing, Hobbs's Leviathan, Sipthorp's Sermons,
+  Hutchinson's History, Fable of the Bees, Philalethes on Philanthropy,
+  with an appendix by Massachusettensis, Hoyl on Whist, Lives of the
+  Stuarts, Statutes of Henry the Eighth, and William the Conqueror,
+  Wedderburne's speeches, and acts of Parliament, for 1774._
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+_HATEALL, HAZLEROD, MONSIEUR, BEAU TRUMPS, SIMPLE, HUMBUG, SIR
+SPARROW, &c., &c._
+
+SCRIBLERIUS.
+
+                   ----Thy toast, Monsieur,
+Pray, why that solemn phiz:--
+Art thou, too, balancing 'twixt right and wrong?
+Hast thou a thought so mean as to give up
+Thy present good, for promise in reversion?
+'Tis true hereafter has some feeble terrors,
+But ere our grizzly heads are wrapt in clay
+We may compound, and make our peace with Heav'n.
+
+MONSIEUR.
+
+  Could I give up the dread of retribution,
+The awful reck'ning of some future day,
+Like surly Hateall I might curse mankind,
+And dare the threat'ned vengeance of the skies.
+Or like yon apostate----
+
+                           [_Pointing to HAZLEROD, retired to a corner
+                            to read Massachusettensis._
+
+                          Feel but slight remorse
+To sell my country for a grasp of gold.
+But the impressions of my early youth,
+Infix'd by precepts of my pious sire,
+Are stings and scorpions in my goaded breast;
+Oft have I hung upon my parent's knee
+And heard him tell of his escape from France;
+He left the land of slaves, and wooden shoes;
+From place to place he sought a safe retreat,
+Till fair Bostonia stretch'd her friendly arm
+And gave the refugee both bread and peace:
+(Shall I ungrateful 'rase the sacred bonds,
+And help to clank the tyrant's iron chains
+O'er these blest shores--once the sure asylum
+From all the ills of arbitrary sway?)
+With his expiring breath he bade his sons,
+If e'er oppression reach'd the western world,
+Resist its force, and break the servile yoke.
+
+SCRIBLERIUS.
+
+  Well quit thy post;----Go make thy flatt'ring court
+To Freedom's Sons and tell thy baby fears;
+Shew the foot traces in thy puny heart,
+Made by the trembling tongue and quiv'ring lip
+Of an old grandsire's superstitious whims.
+
+MONSIEUR.
+
+  No,----I never can----
+So great the itch I feel for titl'd place,
+Some honorary post, some small distinction,
+To save my name from dark oblivion's jaws,
+I'll hazard all, but ne'er give up my place,
+For _that_ I'll see Rome's ancient rites restor'd,
+And flame and faggot blaze in ev'ry street.
+
+BEAU TRUMPS.
+
+             ----That's right, Monsieur,
+There's nought on earth that has such tempting charms
+As rank and show, and pomp, and glitt'ring dress,
+Save the dear counters at belov'd Quadril,
+Viner unsoil'd, and Littleton, may sleep,
+And Coke lie mould'ring on the dusty shelf,
+If I by shuffling draw some lucky card
+That wins the livres, or lucrative place.
+
+HUM HUMBUG.
+
+  When sly Rapatio shew'd his friends the scroll,
+I wonder'd much to see thy patriot name
+Among the list of rebels to the state,
+I thought thee one of Rusticus's sworn friends.
+
+BEAU TRUMPS.
+
+  When first I enter'd on the public stage
+My country groan'd beneath base Brundo's hand,
+Virtue look'd fair and beckon'd to her lure,
+Thro' truth's bright mirror I beheld her charms
+And wish'd to tread the patriotic path
+And wear the laurels that adorn his fame;
+I walk'd a while and tasted solid peace
+With Cassius, Rusticus, and good Hortensius,
+And many more, whose names will be rever'd
+When you, and I, and all the venal herd,
+Weigh'd in Nemesis, just impartial scale,
+Are mark'd with infamy, till time blot out
+And in oblivion sink our hated names.
+But 'twas a poor unprofitable path,
+Nought to be gain'd, save solid peace of mind,
+No pensions, place or title there I found;
+I saw Rapatio's arts had struck so deep
+And giv'n his country such a fatal wound,
+None but his foes promotion could expect;
+I trim'd, and pimp'd, and veer'd, and wav'ring stood,
+But half resolv'd to shew myself a knave,
+Till the Arch Traitor prowling round for aid
+Saw my suspense and bade me doubt no more;--
+He gently bow'd, and smiling took my hand,
+And whispering softly in my list'ning ear,
+Shew'd me my name among his chosen band,
+And laugh'd at virtue dignifi'd by fools,
+Clear'd all my doubts, and bade me persevere
+In spite of the restraints, or hourly checks
+Of wounded friendship, and a goaded mind,
+Or all the sacred ties of truth and honour.
+
+COLLATERALIS.
+
+  Come, 'mongst ourselves we'll e'en speak out the truth.
+Can you suppose there yet is such a dupe
+As still believes that wretch an honest man?
+  The later strokes of his serpentine brain
+Outvie the arts of Machiavel himself,
+His Borgian model here is realiz'd
+And the stale tricks of politicians play'd
+Beneath a vizard fair----
+                ----Drawn from the heav'nly form
+Of blest religion weeping o'er the land
+For virtue fall'n, and for freedom lost.
+
+BEAU TRUMPS.
+
+  I think with you----
+----unparalleled his effront'ry,
+When by chican'ry and specious art,
+'Midst the distress in which he'd brought the city,
+He found a few (by artifice and cunning,
+By much industry of his wily friend
+The false Philanthrop----sly undermining tool,
+Who with the Syren's voice----
+Deals daily round the poison of his tongue)
+To speak him fair--and overlook his guilt.
+They by reiterated promise made
+To stand his friend at Britain's mighty court,
+And vindicate his native injur'd land,
+Lent him their names to sanctify his deeds.
+But mark the traitor----his high crimes gloss'd o'er
+Conceals the tender feelings of the man,
+The social ties that bind the human heart;
+He strikes a bargain with his country's foes,
+And joins to wrap America in flames.
+Yet with feign'd pity, and Satanic grin,
+As if more deep to fix the keen insult,
+Or make his life a farce still more complete,
+He sends a groan across the broad Atlantic,
+And with a phiz of Crocodilian stamp,
+Can weep, and wreathe, still hoping to deceive,
+He cries the gath'ring clouds hang thick about her,
+But laughs within----then sobs----
+                ----Alas! my country?
+
+HUM HUMBUG.
+
+  Why so severe, or why exclaim at all,
+Against the man who made thee what thou art?
+
+BEAU TRUMPS.
+
+  I know his guilt,--I ever knew the man,
+Thy father knew him e'er we trod the stage;
+I only speak to such as know him well;
+Abroad I tell the world he is a saint,
+But as for int'rest I betray'd my own
+With the same views, I rank'd among his friends:
+But my ambition sighs for something more.
+What merits has Sir Sparrow of his own,
+And yet a feather graces the fool's cap:
+Which did he wear for what himself achiev'd,
+'Twould stamp some honour on his latest heir----
+But I'll suspend my murm'ring care awhile;
+Come, t' other glass----and try our luck at Loo,
+And if before the dawn your gold I win,
+Or e'er bright Phoebus does his course begin,
+The eastern breeze from Britain's hostile shore
+Should waft her lofty floating towers o'er,
+Whose waving pendants sweep the wat'ry main,
+Dip their proud beaks and dance towards the plain,
+The destin'd plains of slaughter and distress,
+Laden with troops from Hanover and Hess,
+It would invigorate my sinking soul,
+For then the continent we might control;
+Not all the millions that she vainly boasts
+Can cope with Veteran Barbarian hosts;----
+But the brave sons of Albion's warlike race,
+Their arms, and honours, never can disgrace,
+Or draw their swords in such a hated cause,
+In blood to seal a N----'s oppressive laws,
+They'll spurn the service;----Britons must recoil,
+And shew themselves the natives of an isle
+Who sought for freedom, in the worst of times
+Produc'd her Hampdens, Fairfaxes, and Pyms.
+  But if by carnage we should win the game,
+Perhaps by my abilities and fame:
+I might attain a splendid glitt'ring car,
+And mount aloft, and sail in liquid air.
+Like Phaeton, I'd then out-strip the wind,
+And leave my low competitors behind.
+
+_Finis._
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Group, by Mercy Warren
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