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diff --git a/29225.txt b/29225.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2cb967a --- /dev/null +++ b/29225.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2134 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Battle of Bunkers-Hill, by Hugh Henry Brackenridge + +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 Battle of Bunkers-Hill + +Author: Hugh Henry Brackenridge + +Editor: Montrose J. Moses + +Release Date: June 26, 2009 [EBook #29225] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BATTLE OF BUNKERS-HILL *** + + + + +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 Battle of Bunkers-Hill_, 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 BATTLE OF BUNKERS-HILL + +_By_ + +HUGH HENRY BRACKENRIDGE + +[Illustration: HUGH HENRY BRACKENRIDGE] + + + + +HUGH HENRY BRACKENRIDGE + +(1748-1816) + + +The battle of Bunker's Hill was an event which stirred whatever dramatic +activity there was in America at the time of the Revolution. Therefore, +a play written on the subject should not be omitted from a collection +supposed to be representative of the different periods in American +history and in American thought. The reader has an interesting +comparison to make in Hugh Henry Brackenridge's play, which the +title-page declares is "A dramatic piece of five acts, in heroic +measure, by a gentleman of Maryland," and a later piece entitled "Bunker +Hill, or the Death of General Warren," written by John Daly Burk +(1776-1808), who came to America because of certain political +disturbances, and published his drama with a Dedication to Aaron Burr +(1797), the year it was given in New York for the first time.[1] It will +be found that the former play is conceived in a better spirit, and is +more significant because of the fact that it was written so soon after +the actual event. + +It is natural that Hugh Henry Brackenridge should have been inspired by +the Revolution, and should have been prompted by the loyal spirit of the +patriots of the time. For he was the stuff from which patriots are made, +having, in his early life, been reared in Pennsylvania, even though he +first saw the light near Campbletown, Scotland, in 1748. His father (who +moved to America in 1753) was a poor farmer, and Hugh received his +schooling under precarious conditions, as many boys of that time did. We +are given pictures of him, trudging thirty miles in all kinds of +weather, in order to borrow books and newspapers, and we are told that, +being quick in the learning of languages, he made arrangements with a +man, who knew mathematics, to trade accomplishments in order that he +himself might become better skilled in the science of calculation. + +At the age of fifteen, he was so well equipped that he was engaged to +teach school in Maryland, at Gunpowder Falls, some of his pupils being +so much larger and older than he that, at one time, he had to take a +brand from the fire, and strike one of them, in order to gain ascendency +over him. + +At eighteen, pocketing whatever money he had saved, he went to President +Witherspoon, of the College of New Jersey, arranging with that divine to +teach classes in order that he might afford to remain and study. While +there, among his classmates may be counted James Madison, future +president of the United States, Philip Freneau, the poet, and others of +later note. Aaron Burr was a Junior at the time of Brackenridge's +graduation, as was William Bradford. Though he was on intimate terms +with Madison, he was much more the friend of Freneau, the two writing +together "The Rising Glory of America." Should one take the complete +piece, which was read by Brackenridge at Commencement, and mark therein +that part of the poem composed by Freneau, and included later in +Freneau's published works, one might very readily understand that +Brackenridge was less the poet, even though in some ways he may have +been more versatile as a writer. + +This piece, "The Rising Glory of America,"[2] is representative of a +type of drama which was fostered and encouraged by the colleges of the +time. We find Francis Hopkinson, in the College of Philadelphia, writing +various dialogues, like his "Exercise: Containing a Dialogue [by the +Rev. Dr. Smith] and Ode, sacred to the memory of his late gracious +Majesty George II. Performed at the public commencement in the College +of Philadelphia, May, 1761." Yet Hopkinson was one of the Signers of the +Declaration of Independence! + +What says Abbe Robin, viewing Harvard in 1781: + + Their pupils often act tragedies, the subject of which is + generally taken from their national events, such as the battle + of Bunker's Hill, the burning of Charlestown, the death of + General Montgomery, the capture of Burgoyne, the treason of + Arnold, and the Fall of British Tyranny. You will easily + conclude that in such a new nation as this, these pieces must + fall infinitely short of that perfection to which our European + literary productions of this kind are wrought up; but, still, + they have a greater effect upon the mind than the best of ours + would have among them, because those manners and customs are + delineated, which are peculiar to themselves, and the events are + such as interest them above all others. The drama is here + reduced to its true and Ancient origin. + +Nathaniel Evans also wrote dialogues, performed at the public +Commencements in Philadelphia, like the one on May 17, 1763. We have +already noted that "The Prince of Parthia" was written as a college +play. "The Military Glory of Great Britain" was also prepared as an +entertainment by the graduates of the College of New Jersey, held in +Nassau-Hall, September 29, 1762, with the authorship unknown. It was a +type of play which tempted many men, who later tried their hand at more +important dramatic work. + +Another interesting title of the time ran as follows: + + An/Exercise,/containing/a Dialogue and Ode/On the Accession of + His present gracious Majesty,/George III./Performed at the + public Commencement in the College of/Philadelphia, May 18th, + 1762./Philadelphia:/Printed by W. Dunlap, in Market-Street, + M,DCC,LXII./ + +In order to understand the spirit which prompted both Brackenridge and +Freneau, one needs must turn to an account of the latter's life, and +learn therefrom certain facts concerning the early college spirit of +Brackenridge, which was ignored by his son in the only authentic record +of his life we have. + +From Freneau we understand, for example, that, as early as June 24, +1769, a certain number of students banded themselves into an +undergraduate fraternity, called the American Whig Society, the chief +members of that association being Madison, Brackenridge, Bradford, and +Freneau himself. There is a manuscript book in the possession of the +Historical Society of Pennsylvania, originally owned by Bradford, and +containing some of their later poetical tirades. It is called "Satires +against the Whigs," and is composed of ten pastorals by Brackenridge and +a number of satires by Freneau. It is strange that the intimacy between +Brackenridge and Freneau did not lead to their rooming together while at +College, Brackenridge giving way to James Madison. But we do know that +the two were very intimately associated in early literary work, and, in +the manuscript book just mentioned, there is contained the fragment of a +novel written alternately by the two, and called "Father Bombo's +Pilgrimage to Mecca in Arabia." + +Then followed "The Rising Glory of America," which, when Brackenridge +graduated, September 25, 1771, was announced on the program of +events--afternoon division--as being entirely by himself. This must have +been an oversight, inasmuch as Freneau had more than a mere hand in the +execution of the piece, and inasmuch as we possess Brackenridge's own +confession "that on his part it was a task of labour, while the verse of +his associate flowed spontaneously." + +The college life of the time was not devoted entirely to literary +creativeness or to political discussions. There is published an address +by President Witherspoon to the inhabitants of Jamaica (1772), in which +he outlined the course of study to which the students were subjected. It +indicates, very excellently, the classical training that Brackenridge, +Freneau, and Madison had to undergo. In fact, we find, on Commencement +Day, Freneau debating on "Does Ancient Poetry excel the Modern?" and +throwing all his energy in favour of the affirmative argument. And +Brackenridge, selected to deliver the Salutatory, rendered it in Latin, +"De societate hominum." (See Pennsylvania _Chronicle_; John Maclean's +"History of the College of New Jersey," i, 312; Madison's correspondence +while a student; also Philip Vickers Fithian's Journal and Letters: +1764-1774. Student at Princeton College: 1770-1772. Tutor at Nomini Hall +in Virginia: 1773-1774. Ed. ... by J. R. Williams. Princeton, 1900.) The +Princeton historian points to this class of 1771 as being so patriotic +that a unanimous vote was taken to appear at graduation in nothing but +things of American manufacture.[3] + +This much we do know regarding the early life of Brackenridge: that he +was always pressed for money, that it was his indefatigableness and +thirst for knowledge which carried him through the schools of the time, +and through college. + +His son even confesses that his father was obliged, on one occasion, to +write an address which one of the students had to deliver, and to +receive in payment therefor a new suit of clothes! + +It was after his graduation that Brackenridge tutored in the College for +a while, meantime taking up a course in theology. After this, he +accepted a position as teacher in a school on the eastern shore of +Maryland, because the "Academy" offered him a most flattering salary, +and he could not reject it, however much he may have been interested in +his college work. No sooner was he established there than he wrote to +his friend, Freneau, inviting him to take the second position in the +Maryland Seminary. This position was accepted by Freneau, who wrote to +James Madison on November 22, 1772, mentioning therein that Brackenridge +was at the head of Sommerset Academy, to which he himself had come on +October 18th of that year, and where he was teaching the young idea and +pursuing at the same time his theological studies. + +As illustration of how much Freneau was at heart in tune with the work, +we note that he says, "We have about thirty students in this Academy who +prey upon me like leeches." + +According to Brackenridge's son, whose Memoir of his father is published +in the 1846 edition of "Modern Chivalry," there must, however, have been +in this part of Maryland a polished social atmosphere, which gave ample +opportunity for the wit, the scholarship, and the conversational and +social powers of Brackenridge to develop. + +For the students of Sommerset Academy, Brackenridge wrote his play, "The +Battle of Bunkers-Hill,"[4] and though there is no record of this piece +having been actually presented, it is generally agreed that the +Principal wrote his drama as an exercise for the pupils to perform. It +was published anonymously, the fashion of the day which has led to many +disputes,--for example, as to the authorship claims of John Leacock and +Mrs. Mercy Warren. Royall Tyler was likewise diffident about letting his +name appear on the title-page of "The Contrast." + +When published in 1776, Brackenridge's piece was dedicated to Richard +Stockton, and its tone and temper are thoroughly indicative of the +spirit that must have dominated all his writings while at College. + +The year 1776 marks Brackenridge's severance from teaching work. He soon +after went to Philadelphia with his small fortune of one thousand +pounds, and continued his efforts to make a livelihood by editing the +_United States Magazine_, which afforded him an opportunity of airing +his patriotic views, and gave him the added pleasure of inviting his +associate, Freneau, to become one of the leading contributors. The +following year, even though he had never been ordained in the Church, +Brackenridge, nevertheless, a licensed divine, enlisted as Chaplain in +the Revolutionary Army, and there are extant a number of vigorous +political sermons which it was his wont to deliver to the soldiers--the +same fiery eloquence seen in his "Eulogium on the Brave Men who fell in +the Contest with Great Britain," delivered in 1778. + +Some time elapsed while he travelled hither and thither with a bible in +his saddle-bags, according to description, and then Brackenridge took up +the study of law, inasmuch as his very advanced views on religious +questions would not allow him to subscribe to all the tenets of his +Presbyterian faith. This drew down upon him the inimical strictures of +the pulpit, but marked him as a man of intellectual bravery and certain +moral daring. + +Having completed his law reading in Annapolis, under Samuel Chase, +afterwards Supreme Court Judge, he crossed the Alleghanies, in 1781, and +established himself in Pittsburgh, where he rapidly grew in reputation, +through his personal magnetism and his undoubted talents as a lawyer. He +was strictly in favour of the Federal Constitution, and those who wish +to fathom his full political importance should not only study his record +as Judge of the Supreme Court of the State of Pennsylvania, when he was +appointed by Governor McKean, but, more significant still, the part he +took in the Whiskey Insurrection, which brought him in touch with Albert +Gallatin. In accord with the temper of the times, he was a man of party +politics, although he never allowed his prejudices to interfere with his +duties on the bench. As a Judge, his term of office ran from 1800 to the +day of his death, June 25, 1816. + +Mr. Brackenridge, besides being the author of the dialogue and play +mentioned, likewise wrote several other dramas, among them being a +tragedy, "The Death of General Montgomery at the Siege of Quebec" +(1777), and a number of Odes and Elegies. The historical student will +find much material relating to Brackenridge's political manoeuvres, in +his book on the Western Insurrection; but probably as an author he is +more justly famous for his series of stories and sketches published +under the title, "Modern Chivalry" (1792), and representing a certain +type of prose writing distinctive of American letters of the time of +Clay and Crawford. These impressions were later added to. It is a type +to be compared with the literary work done in the Southern States by J. +J. Hooper, Judge Longstreet, and Judge Baldwin in ante-bellum days. + +Among Brackenridge's other works may be mentioned: + +An account of Pittsburgh in 1786. (Pittsburgh _Gazette_, July 29, 1786. +Carnegie Library, Pittsburgh: _Monthly Bulletin_, 1902, v., 257-262, +288-290, 332-335.) + +The Adventures of Captain Farrago. Philadelphia, 1856. + +The Adventures of Major O'Regan. Philadelphia, 1856. + +Gazette Publications. Carlisle, 1806. + +Incidents of the Insurrection in the western parts of Pennsylvania. +Philadelphia, 1795. + +Law Miscellanies. Philadelphia, 1814. + +Narrative of the late Expedition against the Indians. 1798. + +An Occasional Paper by Democritus, entitled "The Standard of Liberty." +1802. + +Political Miscellany. 1793. + +There are many plays extant dealing specifically with events connected +with the Revolution and the War of 1812. For a discussion of same, see +an article by A. E. Lancaster, "Historical American Plays," +_Chautauquan_, 31:359-364, 1900; also see the present editor's "The +American Dramatist," Chapter III. Note the following plays particularly: + +C. E. GRICE. "The Battle of New Orleans; or, Glory, Love and Loyalty." +An Historical and National Drama. 1816. + +W. IOOR. "The Battle of the Eutaw Springs, and Evacuation of Charleston; +or, the Glorious 14th of December, 1782." A National Drama. Played in +Charleston, 1817. + +S. B. H. JUDAH. "A Tale of Lexington." A National Comedy, founded on the +opening of the Revolution. 1823. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] Burk wrote another play, "Female Patriotism; or, The Death of Joan +d'Arc," given a New York production in 1798. An interesting letter from +Burk to J. Hodgkinson, who produced his "Bunker Hill," is to be found in +Dunlap's "The American Theatre" (London, 1833, i, 313). The play has +been reissued by the Dunlap Society (1891, no. 15), and edited, with an +introduction by Brander Matthews. + +[2] Philadelphia:/Printed by Joseph Crukshank, for R. +Aitken,/Bookseller, Opposite the London-Coffee-/House, in +Front-Street./M,DCC,LXXII./ + +[3] The students of Princeton have not revived the "Battle of +Bunkers-Hill," but they point still with some pride to the ivy which was +planted by the class of 1771. + +[4] The/Battle/of/Bunkers-Hill./A Dramatic Piece,/of Five Acts,/in +Heroic Measure. /By a Gentleman of Maryland./--Pulcrumque mori succurrit +in armis./Virgil./--'Tis glorious to die in Battle.--/Philadelphia:/ +Printed and Sold by Robert Bell, in Third-Street./MDCCLXXVI./ + + + + +[Illustration: THE + +BATTLE + +OF + +BUNKERS-HILL. + +A DRAMATIC PIECE, + +OF FIVE ACTS, + +IN HEROIC MEASURE. + + +BY A GENTLEMAN OF MARYLAND. + + +----_Pulcrumque mori succurrit in armis._ + +VIRGIL. + +'Tis glorious to die in Battle. + + +PHILADELPHIA: + +Printed and Sold by ROBERT BELL, in Third-Street. + +MDCCLXXVI. + + +FAC-SIMILE TITLE-PAGE OF THE FIRST EDITION] + + + + +TO + +RICHARD STOCKTON, _Esquire_; + +MEMBER + +OF THE HONOURABLE, + +THE + +CONTINENTAL CONGRESS, + +for the State + +of + +NEW-JERSEY. + +SIR, + +I take the Freedom to Inscribe with YOUR Name, the following short +Performance in Honour of some brave MEN, who have fallen in the Cause of +LIBERTY. + +It was at first drawn up for an Exercise in Oratory, to a number of +young Gentlemen in a southern Academy, but being now Published, may +serve the same Purpose, in other AMERICAN Seminaries. + +The many Civilities, received from YOUR Family, at an earlier Period of +my Life, while a Student at NEW-JERSEY College, demand the warmest +Gratitude; and I do continually, with the most sincere Pleasure, +recollect and acknowledge them. + +It is my fervent wish, that the Ruler of the Universe may Crown with +Success, the Cause of FREEDOM, and speedily relieve our bleeding Country +in whose Service YOU have distinguishedly exerted YOUR eminent +Abilities, by assisting HER Deliberations in the grand Council of the +Empire. + +SIR, + +I am, +With great Respect, +Your much obliged, +and most humble Servant, + +THE AUTHOR. + + + + +PROLOGUE + +to the + +BATTLE + +of + +BUNKERS-HILL + +_By a Lieutenant Colonel in the CONTINENTAL ARMY._ + + +This mighty Era big with dread alarms, +Aloud calls each AMERICAN to arms. +Let ev'ry Breast with martial ardour glow, +Nor dread to meet the proud usurping foe. +What tho' our bodies feel an earthly chain, +Still the free soul, unblemish'd and serene +Enjoys a mental LIBERTY,--a charm, +Beyond the power of fate itself to harm. +Should vict'ry crown us in the doubtful strife-- +Eternal honours mark the hero's life. +Should Wounds and slaughter be our hapless doom-- +Unfading laurels deck the Martyr's Tomb: +A sure reward awaits his soul on high, +On earth his memory shall never die, +For when we read the fatal story o'er, +One tear shall drop for him who is--no more, +Who nobly struggled to support our laws, +And bravely fell in freedom's sacred cause. + Let virtue fire us to the martial deed; +We fight to conquer and we dare to bleed: +Witness ye fathers! whose protracted time, +Fruitful of story, chronicles the clime. +These howling deserts, hospitably tame, +Erst snatch'd you martyrs, from the hungry flame; +'Twas Heav'n's own cause, beneath whose shelt'ring power, +Ye grew the wonder of this present hour-- +The task--be ours with unremitted toil, } +To guard the rights of this dear-purchas'd soil,} +From Royal plund'rers, greedy of our spoil, } +Who come resolv'd to murder and enslave, +To shackle FREEMEN and to rob the brave. +The loud mouth'd cannon threaten from afar, +Be this our comfort in the storm of war-- +Who fights, to take our liberty away, +Dead-hearted fights, and falls an easy prey. +Then, on my brethren to the embattl'd plain, +Who shrinks with fear, anticipates a chain. + + + + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE + + +WARREN } +PUTNAM } _American Officers._ +GARDINER } + +GAGE } +HOWE } +BURGOYNE } _British Officers._ +CLINTON } +LORD PIGOT } + +SHERWIN, _Aide-de-camp to General Howe._ + +Soldiers, &c. + + + + +THE + +BATTLE + +OF + +BUNKERS-HILL + + + + +ACT I. + + +SCENE I. _Camp at Cambridge._ + +_Enter WARREN, PUTNAM, and GARDINER._ + +WARREN. + + Why thus, brave Putnam, shall we still encamp +Inactive here; and with this gentle flood, +By Cambridge murmuring, mix briny tears? +Salt tears of grief by many a parent shed, +For sons detain'd, and tender innocents +In yon fair City, famishing for bread; +For not fond mothers or their weeping babes-- +Can move the hard heart of relentless Gage. +Perfidious man! Who pledg'd his oath so late, +And word of honour to those patriots +Yet in his power, that yielding him their arms, +They should receive permission to depart, +And join once more their valiant countrymen; +But now detains as hostages these men, +In low damp dungeons, and in gaols chain'd down +While grief and famine on their vitals prey. +Say, noble Putnam, shall we hear of this, +And let our idle swords rust in the sheath, +While slaves of Royal Power impeach our worth +As vain, and call our patience cowardice? + +PUTNAM. + + Not less, bold Warren, have I felt the pangs +Of woe severe in this calamity: +And could I with my life redeem the times, +The richest blood that circles round my heart, +Should hastily be shed. But what avails +The genuine flame and vigour of the soul, +When nature's self, and all the strength of art, +Opposes every effort in our power? +These sons of slavery dare not advance, +And meet in equal fight our hostile arms. +For yet they well remember LEXINGTON, +And what they suffer'd on that rueful day, +When wantoning in savage rage, they march'd +Onward to CONCORD, in a firm array, +Mock music playing, and the ample flag +Of tyranny display'd; but with dire loss +And infamy drove back, they gain'd the town, +And under cover of their ships of war, +Retir'd, confounded and dismay'd. No more +In mirthful mood to combat us, or mix +Their jocund music with the sounds of war. +To tempt no more unequal fight with men, +Who to oppose dire arbitrary sway, +Have grasp'd the sword: and resolute to brave +Death in a thousand dreary shapes, can know, +In the warm breast, no sentiment of fear. + +GARDINER. + + The free born spirit of immortal fire +Is stranger to ignoble deeds, and shuns +The name of cowardice. But well thy mind, +Sage, and matur'd by long experience, weighs +The perilous attempt, to storm the town, +And rescue thence, the suff'ring citizens. +For but one pass to that peninsula, +On which the city stands, on all sides barr'd. +And here what numbers can supply the rage, +Of the all devouring, deep mouth'd cannon, plac'd, +On many a strong redoubt: while on each side, +The ships of war, moor'd, in the winding bay, +Can sweep ten thousand from the level beach, +"And render all access impregnable." + +WARREN. + + True, valiant Gard'ner, the attempt is vain, +To force that entrance to the sea-girt town; +Which while we hop'd for peace, and in that view, +Kept back our swords, we saw them fortify. +But what if haply, with a chosen few, +Led through the midnight shades, yon heights were gain'd, +And that contiguous hill, whose grassy foot, +By Mystic's gentle tide is wash'd. Here rais'd, +Strong batt'ries jutting o'er the level sea, +With everlasting thunder, shall annoy +Their navy far beneath; and in some lucky hour, +When dubious darkness on the land is spread, +A chosen band may pierce their sep'rate fleet, +And in swift boats, across the narrow tide, +Pour like a flame, on their unguarded ranks, +And wither them: As when an angel smote +The Assyrian camp. The proud Sennacherib, +With impious rage, against the hill of God, +Blasphem'd. Low humbl'd, when the dawning light, +Saw all his host dead men: So yet I trust, +The God of battles will avouch our cause, +And those proud champions of despotic power, +Who turn our fasting to their mirth, and mock +Our prayers, naming us the SAINTS, shall yet, +Repay with blood, the tears and agonies, +Of tender mothers, and their infant babes, +Shut up in BOSTON. + +PUTNAM. + + Heaven, smile on us then, +And favour this attempt. Now from our troops, +Seven hundred gallant men, and skill'd in arms, +With speed select, choice spirits of the war. +By you led on, brave Gard'ner, to the heights, +Ere yet the morn with dawning light breaks forth, +Intrench on BUNKERS-HILL; and when the day +First o'er the hill top rises, we shall join +United arms, against the assailing foe, +Should they attempt to cross the narrow tide, +In deep battalion to regain the hill. + +GARDINER. + + The thought is perilous, and many men, +In this bold enterprise, must strew the ground. +But since we combat in the cause of God, +I draw my sword, nor shall the sheath again +Receive the shining blade, till on the heights +Of CHARLES-TOWN, and BUNKER'S pleasant HILL, +It drinks the blood of many a warrior slain. + + + + +ACT II. + + +SCENE I. _Boston._ + +_Enter GAGE, HOWE, and BURGOYNE._ + +BURGOYNE. + + How long, brave gen'rals, shall the rebel foe, +In vain arrangements, and mock siege, display +Their haughty insolence?--Shall in this town, +So many thousands, of _Britannia's_ troops, +With watch incessant, and sore toil oppress'd, +Remain besieg'd? A vet'ran army pent, +In the inclosure, of so small a space, +By a disorder'd herd, untaught, unofficer'd. +Let not sweet Heav'n, the envious mouth of fame, +With breath malignant, o'er the Atlantic wave +Bear this to Europe's shores, or tell to France, +Or haughty Spain, of LEXINGTON'S retreat. +Who could have thought it, in the womb of time, +That _British_ soldiers, in this latter age, +Beat back by peasants, and in flight disgrac'd, +Could tamely brook the base discomfiture; +Nor sallying out, with spirit reassum'd, +Exact due tribute of their victory? +Drive back the foe, to Alleghany hills, +In woody valleys, or on mountain tops, +To mix with wolves and kindred savages. + +GAGE. + + This mighty paradox, will soon dissolve. +Hear first, Burgoyne, the valour of these men, +Fir'd with the zeal, of fiercest liberty, +No fear of death, so terrible to all, +Can stop their rage. Grey-headed clergymen, +With holy bible, and continual prayer, +Bear up their fortitude--and talk of heav'n, +And tell them, that sweet soul, who dies in battle, +Shall walk, with spirits of the just. These words +Add wings to native rage, and hurry them +Impetuous to war. Nor yet in arms +Unpractised. The day of LEXINGTON +A sad conviction gave our soldiery, +That these AMERICANS, were not that herd, +And rout ungovern'd, which we painted them. + +HOWE. + + Not strange to your maturer thought, Burgoyne, +This matter will appear. A people brave, +Who never yet, of luxury, or soft +Delights, effeminate, and false, have tasted. +But, through hate of chains, and slav'ry, suppos'd, +Forsake their mountain tops, and rush to arms. +Oft have I heard their valour published: +Their perseverance, and untamable, +Fierce mind, when late they fought with us, and drove, +The French encroaching on their settlements, +Back to their frozen lakes. Or when with us +On Cape Breton, they stormed Louisburg. +With us in Canada, they took Quebec; +And at the Havannah, these NEW-ENGLAND MEN, +Led on by Putnam, acted gallantly. +I had a brother once, who in that war, +With fame commanded them, and when he fell, +Not unlamented; for these warriors, +So brave themselves, and sensible of merit, +Erected him a costly monument; +And much it grieves me that I draw my sword, +For this late insurrection and revolt, +To chastise them. Would to Almighty God, +The task unnatural, had been assign'd, +Elsewhere. But since by Heaven, determined, +Let's on, and wipe the day of LEXINGTON, +Thus soil'd, quite from our soldiers' memories. +This reinforcement, which with us have fail'd, +In many a transport, from _Britannia's_ shores, +Will give new vigour to the Royal Arms, +And crush rebellion, in its infancy. +Let's on, and from this siege, calamitous, +Assert our liberty; nay, rather die, +Transfix'd in battle, by their bayonets, +Than thus remain, the scoff and ridicule +Of gibing wits, and paltry gazetteers, +On this, their madding continent, who cry, +Where is the _British_ valour: that renown +Which spoke in thunder, to the Gallic shores? +That spirit is evaporate, that fire; +Which erst distinguish'd them, that flame; +And gen'rous energy of soul, which fill'd +Their Henrys, Edwards, thunder-bolts of war; +Their Hampdens, Marlboroughs, and the immortal Wolfe, +On the Abraham heights, victorious. +_Britannia's_ genius, is unfortunate, +And flags, say they, when Royal tyranny +Directs her arms. This let us then disprove, +In combat speedily, and take from them, +The wantonness of this fell pride, and boasting. + +GAGE. + + Tho' much I dread the issue of the attempt, +So full of hazard, and advent'rous spirit; +Yet since your judgment, and high skill in arms, +From full experience, boldly prompts you on, +I give my voice, and when one day hath pass'd, +In whose swift hours, may be wrought, highly up, +The resolution, of the soldiery, +With soothing words, and ample promises, +Of rich rewards, in lands and settlements, +From the confiscate property throughout, +These rebel colonies, at length subdu'd; +Then march we forth, beat up their drowsy camp, +And with the sun, to this safe capital, +Return, rich, with the triumphs of the war. +And be our plan, that which brave Haldiman, +Ere yet recall'd, advis'd to us. Let first, +Brave Howe, and Clinton, on that western point, +Land with the transports, and mean time Burgoyne, +With the artillery, pour sharp cannonade, +Along the neck, and sweep, the beachy plain, +Which lies to Roxborough, where yon western stream, +Flowing from Cambridge, mixes with the Bay. +Thus, these AMERICANS, shall learn to dread, +The force of discipline, and skill in arms. + + + + +ACT III. + + +SCENE I. _Bunkers-Hill._ + +_Enter GARDINER, with seven hundred men._ + +GARDINER. + + This is the hill, brave countrymen, whose brow +We mean to fortify. A strong redoubt, +With saliant angles, and embrasures deep, +Be speedily thrown up. Let each himself, +Not undeserving, of our choice approve, +For out of thousands, I have challeng'd you, +To this bold enterprise, as men of might, +And valour eminent, and such this day, +I trust, will honour you. Let each his spade, +And pick-axe, vig'rously, in this hard soil, +Where I have laid, the curved line, exert. +For now the morning star, bright Lucifer, +Peers on the firmament, and soon the day, +Flush'd with the golden sun, shall visit us. +Then gallant countrymen, should faithless Gage, +Pour forth his lean, and half-starv'd myrmidons; +We'll make them taste our cartridges, and know, +What rugged steel, our bayonets are made of; +Or if o'er charg'd, with numbers, bravely fall, +Like those three hundred at Thermopylae, +And give our Country, credit in our deaths. + + + + +ACT IV. + + +SCENE I. _Boston._ + +GAGE [_solus_]. + + Oh, sweet tranquillity, and peace of soul, +That in the bosom of the cottager, +Tak'st up thy residence--cannot the beams, +Of royal sunshine, call thee to my breast? +Fair honour, waits on thee, renown abroad, +And high dominion, o'er this Continent, +Soon as the spirit, of rebellious war, +Is scourg'd into obedience. Why then, ye Gods, +This inward gnawing, and remorse of thought, +For perfidy, and breach of promises! +Why should the spouse, or weeping infant babe, +Or meek ey'd virgin, with her sallow cheek, +The rose by famine, wither'd out of it; +Or why the father, or his youthful son, +By me detain'd, from all their relatives, +And, in low dungeons, and, in Gaols chain'd down, +Affect my spirit, when the mighty cause, +Of _George_ and _Britain_, is endangered? +For nobly struggling, in the cause of kings, +We claim the high, the just prerogative, +To rule mankind, and with an iron rod, +Exact submission, due, tho' absolute. +What tho' they style me, villain, murderer, +And imprecate from Heaven, dire thunderbolts, +To crush my purposes--Was that a gun, +Which thunders o'er the wave?--Or is it guilt, +That plays the coward, with my trembling heart, +And cools the blood, with frightful images. +O guilt, thy blackness, hovers on the mind, +Nor can the morning dissipate thy shades. +Yon ruddy morn, which over BUNKERS-HILL, +Advancing slowly, blushes to the bay, +And tips with gold the spires of CHARLES-TOWN. + +_Enter BURGOYNE._ + + The rebel foe, grown yet more insolent, +By that small loss, or rout, at LEXINGTON, +Prevent our purpose and the night by-past, +Have push'd intrenchments, and some flimsy works, +With rude achievement, on the rocky brow, +Of that tall hill. A ship-boy, with the day, +From the tall mast-head, of the Admiral, +Descry'd their aim, and gave the swift alarm. +Our glasses mark, but one small regiment there, +Yet, ev'ry hour we languish in delay, +Inspires fresh hope, and fills their pig'my souls, +With thoughts of holding it. You hear the sound +Of spades and pick-axes, upon the hill, +Incessant, pounding, like old Vulcan's forge, +Urg'd by the Cyclops. + +_Enter HOWE._ + + To your alarm posts, officers; come, gallant souls, +Let's out, and drive them from that eminence, +On which the foe, doth earth himself. +I relish not, such haughty neighbourhood. +Give orders, swiftly, to the Admiral, +That some stout ship heave up the narrow bay, +And pour indignant, from the full-tide wave, +Fierce cannonade, across the isthmus point, +That no assistance may be brought to them. +If but seven hundred, we can treat with them. +Yes, strew the hill, with death, and carcasses, +And offer up, this band, a hecatomb, +To _Britain's_ glory, and the cause of kings. + + [_Exeunt BURGOYNE and HOWE._ + +GAGE [_solus_]. + + May Heaven protect us, from their rage, I say, +When but a boy, I dream'd of death in bed, +And ever since that time, I hated things +Which put him, like a pair of spectacles, +Before my eyes. The thought lies deep in fate, +Nor can a mortal see the bottom of it. +'Tis here--'Tis there--I could philosophize-- +Eternity, is like a winding sheet-- +The seven commandments like--I think there's seven-- +I scratch my head--but yet in vain I scratch-- +Oh Bute, and Dartmouth, knew ye what I feel, +You sure would pity an old drinking man, +That has more heart-ake, than philosophy. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE II. _HOWE with the British Army._ + +HOWE. + + The day at length, propitious shews itself, +And with full beams of majesty, the sun, +Hath bless'd its fair nativity; when Heaven, +Brave soldiers, and the cause of kings, +Calls on the spirit of your loyalty, +To chastise this rebellion, and tread down, +Such foul ingratitude--such monstrous shape, +Of horrid liberty, which spurns that love-- +That fond maternal tenderness of soul, +Which on this dreary coast, first planted them: +Restrain'd the rage, of murdering savages, +Which, with fierce inroad, on their settlements, +Made frequent war--struck down the arm of France, +Just rais'd, to crush them, in their infancy: +And since that time, have bade their cities grow, +To marts of trade: call'd fair-ey'd commerce forth, +To share dominion, on the distant wave, +And visit every clime, and foreign shore. +Yet this, brave soldiers, is the proud return, +For the best blood of _England_, shed for them. +Behold yon hill, where fell rebellion rears +Her snake-stream'd ensign, and would seem to brave +With scarce seven hundred, this sea-bounded Camp, +Where may be counted, full ten thousand men, +That in the war with France so late, acquir'd +Loud fame, and shook the other continent. +Come on, brave soldiers, seize your gleaming arms, +And let this day, in after times be held, +As Minden famous, and each hostile field, +Where _British_ valour shone victorious. +The time moves slow, which enviously detains, +Our just resentment from these traitors' heads. +Their richest farms, and cultur'd settlements, +By winding river, or extensive bay, +Shall be your first reward. Our noble king, +As things confiscate, holds their property, +And in rich measure, will bestow on you, +Who face the frowns, and labour of this day. +He that outlives this battle, shall ascend, +In titled honour, to the height of state, +Dukedoms, and baronies, midst these our foes, +In tributary vassalage, kept down, +Shall be your fair inheritance. Come on, +Beat up th' heroic sound of war. The word +Is, _George_ our sov'reign, and _Britannia's_ arms. + + + + +ACT V. + + +SCENE I. _Bunkers-Hill._ + +_WARREN with the American Army._ + +WARREN. + + To arms, brave countrymen, for see the foe +Comes forth to battle, and would seem to try, +Once more, their fortune in decisive war. +Three thousand, 'gainst seven hundred, rang'd this day, +Shall give the world, an ample specimen, +What strength, and noble confidence, the sound +Of Liberty inspires. That Liberty, +Which, not the thunder of Bellona's voice, +With fleets, and armies, from the _British_ Shore, +Shall wrest from us. Our noble ancestors, +Out-brav'd the tempests, of the hoary deep, +And on these hills, uncultivate, and wild, +Sought an asylum, from despotic sway; +A short asylum, for that envious power, +With persecution dire, still follows us. +At first, they deem'd our charters forfeited, +Next, our just rights, in government, abridg'd. +Then, thrust in viceroys, and bashaws, to rule, +With lawless sovereignty. Now added force, +Of standing armies, to secure their sway. +Much have we suffer'd from the licens'd rage, +Of brutal soldiery, in each fair town. +Remember March, brave countrymen, that day +When BOSTON'S streets ran blood. Think on that day, +And let the memory, to revenge, stir up, +The temper of your souls. There might we still, +On terms precarious, and disdainful liv'd, +With daughters ravished, and butcher'd sons, +But Heaven forbade the thought. These are the men, +Who in firm phalanx, threaten us with war, +And aim this day, to fix forever down, +The galling chains, which tyranny has forg'd for us, +These count our lands and settlements their own, +And in their intercepted letters, speak, +Of farms, and tenements, secured for friends, +Which, if they gain, brave soldiers, let with blood, +The purchase, be seal'd down. Let every arm, +This day be active, in fair freedom's cause, +And shower down, from the hill, like Heav'n in wrath, +Full store of lightning, and fierce iron hail, +To blast the adversary. Let this ground, +Like burning AEtna or Vesuvius top, +Be wrapt in flame--The word is, LIBERTY, +And Heaven smile on us, in so just a cause. + + +SCENE II. _Bunkers-Hill._ + +GARDINER [_leading up his men to the engagement_]. + + Fear not, brave soldiers, tho' their infantry, +In deep array, so far out-numbers us. +The justness of our cause, will brace each arm, +And steel the soul, with fortitude; while they, +Whose guilt hangs trembling, on their consciences, +Must fail in battle, and receive that death, +Which, in high vengeance, we prepare for them. +Let then each spirit, to the height, would up, +Shew noble vigour, and full force this day. +For on the merit, of our swords, is plac'd, +The virgin honour, and true character, +Of this whole Continent: and one short hour, +May give complexion, to the whole event, +Fixing the judgment whether as base slaves, +We serve these masters, or more nobly live, +Free as the breeze, that on the hill-top, plays, +With these sweet fields, and tenements, our own. +O fellow soldiers, let this battle speak, +Dire disappointment, to the insulting foe, +Who claim our fair possessions, and set down, +These cultur'd-farms, and bowry-hills, and plains, +As the rich prize, of certain victory. +Shall we, the sons of MASSACHUSETTS-BAY, +NEW HAMPSHIRE, and CONNECTICUT; shall we +Fall back, dishonour'd, from our native plains, +Mix with the savages, and roam for food, +On western mountains, or the desert shores, +Of Canada's cold lakes? or state more vile, +Sit down, in humble vassalage, content +To till the ground for these proud conquerors? +No, fellow soldiers, let us rise this day, +Emancipate, from such ignoble choice. +And should the battle ravish our sweet lives, +Late time shall give, an ample monument, +And bid her worthies, emulate our fame. + + +SCENE III. _Boston._ + +_The British Army being repuls'd, SHERWIN is dispatch'd to GENERAL + GAGE, for assistance._ + +_SHERWIN, GAGE, BURGOYNE, and CLINTON._ + +SHERWIN. + + Our men advancing, have receiv'd dire loss, +In this encounter, and the case demands, +In swift crisis, of extremity, +A thousand men to reinforce the war. + +GAGE. + + Do as you please, Burgoyne, in this affair, +I'll hide myself in some deep vault beneath. + + [_Exit._ + +BURGOYNE. + + 'Tis yours, brave Clinton, to command, these men. +Embark them speedily. I see our troops, +Stand on the margin of the ebbing flood +(The flood affrighted, at the scene it views), +And fear, once more, to climb the desp'rate hill, +Whence the bold rebel, show'rs destruction down. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE IV. + +WARREN. + +_Mortally wounded, falling on his right knee, covering his breast with + his right hand, and supporting himself with his firelock in his + left._ + + A deadly ball hath limited my life, +And now to God, I offer up my soul. +But O my Countrymen, let not the cause, +The sacred cause of liberty, with me +Faint or expire. By the last parting breath, +And blood of this your fellow soldier slain, +Be now adjur'd, never to yield the right, +The grand deposit of all-giving Heaven, +To man's free nature, that he rule himself. +With these rude Britons, wage life-scorning war, +Till they admit it, and like hell fall off, +With ebbing billows, from this troubl'd coast, +Where but for them firm Concord, and true love, +Should individual, hold their court and reign. +Th' infernal engin'ry of state, resist +To death, that unborn times may be secure, +And while men flourish in the peace you win, +Write each fair name with worthies of the earth. +Weep not your Gen'ral, who is snatch'd this day, +From the embraces of a family, +Five virgin daughters young, and unendow'd, +Now with the foe left lone and fatherless. +Weep not for him who first espous'd the cause +And risking life have met the enemy, +In fatal opposition--But rejoice-- +For now I go to mingle with the dead, +Great Brutus, Hampden, Sidney, and the rest, +Of old or modern memory, who liv'd, +A mound to tyrants, and strong hedge to kings, +Bounding the inundation of their rage, +Against the happiness and peace of man. +I see these heroes where they walk serene, +By crystal currents, on the vale of Heaven, +High in full converse of immortal acts, +Achiev'd for truth and innocence on earth. +Mean time the harmony and thrilling sound +Of mellow lutes, sweet viols, and guitars, +Dwell on the soul and ravish ev'ry nerve. +Anon the murmur of the tight-brac'd drum, +With finely varied fifes to martial airs, +Wind up the spirit to the mighty proof +Of siege and battle, and attempt in arms. +Illustrious group! They beckon me along, +To ray my visage with immortal light, +And bind the amarinth around my brow. +I come, I come, ye first-born of true fame. +Fight on, my countrymen, be FREE, be FREE. + + +SCENE V. _Charles-town._ + +_The reinforcement landed, and orders given to burn Charles-town, that + they may march up more securely under the smoke. GENERAL HOWE rallies + his repuls'd and broken troops._ + +HOWE. + + Curse on the fortune, of _Britannia's_ arms, +That plays the jilt with us. Shall these few men +Beat back the flower, and best half of our troops, +While on our side, so many ships of war, +And floating batt'ries, from the mystic tide, +Shake all the hill, and sweep its ridgy top? +O Gods! no time can blot its memory out. +We've men enough, upon the field today, +To bury, this small handful, with the dust +Our march excites--back to the charge--close ranks, +And drive these wizards from th' enchanted ground. +The reinforcement, which bold Clinton heads, +Gives such superiority of strength, +That let each man of us but cast a stone, +We cover this small hill, with these few foes, +And over head, erect a pyramid, +The smoke, you see, enwraps us in its shade, +On, then, my countrymen, and try once more, +To change the fortune, of the inglorious day. + + +SCENE VI. _Bunkers-Hill._ + +GARDINER [_to the American Army_]. + + You see, brave soldiers, how an evil cause, +A cause of slavery, and civil death, +Unmans the spirit, and strikes down the soul. +The gallant _Englishman_, whose fame in arms, +Through every clime, shakes terribly the globe, +Is found this day, shorn of his wonted strength, +Repuls'd, and driven from the flaming hill. +Warren is fallen, on fair honour's bed, +Pierc'd in the breast, with ev'ry wound before. +'Tis ours, now tenfold, to avenge his death, +And offer up, a reg'ment of the foe, +Achilles-like, upon the Hero's tomb. +See, reinforc'd they face us yet again, +And onward move in phalanx to the war. +O noble spirits, let this bold attack, +Be bloody to their host. GOD is our Aid, +Give then full scope, to just revenge this day. + + +SCENE VII. _The Bay-Shore._ + +_The British Army once more repuls'd, HOWE again rallies his flying + troops._ + +HOWE. + + But that so many mouths can witness it, +I would deny myself an _Englishman_, +And swear this day, that with such cowardice, +No kindred, or alliance, has my birth. +O base degen'rate souls, whose ancestors, +At Cressy, Poitiers, and at Agincourt, +With tenfold numbers, combated, and pluck'd +The budding laurels, from the brows of France. +Back to the charge, once more, and rather die, +Burn'd up, and wither'd on this bloody hill, +Than live the blemish of your Country's fame, +With everlasting infamy, oppress'd. +Their ammunition, as you hear, is spent, +So that unless their looks, and visages, +Like fierce-ey'd Basilisks, can strike you dead; +Return, and rescue yet, sweet Countrymen, +Some share of honour, on this hapless day. +Let some brave officers stand on the rear, +And with the small sword, and sharp bayonet, +Drive on each coward that attempts to lag, +That thus, sure death may find the villain out, +With more dread certainty, than him who moves, +Full in the van, to meet the wrathful foe. + + +SCENE VIII. _Bunkers-Hill._ + +_GARDINER, desperately wounded and borne from the field by two + soldiers._ + +GARDINER. + + A musket-ball, death-wing'd, hath pierc'd my groin, +And widely op'd the swift curr'nt of my veins. +Bear me then, Soldiers, to that hollow space, +A little hence, just in the hill's decline. +A surgeon there may stop the gushing wound, +And gain a short respite to life, that yet +I may return, and fight one half hour more. +Then, shall I die in peace, and to my GOD, +Surrender up, the spirit, which He gave. + + +SCENE IX. + +PUTNAM [_to the American Army_]. + + Swift-rising fame, on early wing, mounts up, +To the convexity of bending Heaven, +And writes each name, who fought with us this day, +In fairest character, amidst the stars. +The world shall read it, and still talk of us, +Who, far out-number'd, twice drove back the foe, +With carnage horrid, murm'ring to their ships. +The Ghost of Warren says, enough--I see +One thousand veterans, mingled with the dust. +Now, for our sacred honour, and the wound, +Which Gard'ner feels, once more we charge--once more, +Dear friends, and fence the obscur'd hill +With hecatombs of slain. Let every piece +Flash, like the fierce-consuming fire of Heaven, +And make the smoke, in which they wrap themselves, +"A darkness visible."--Now once again, +Receive the battle, as a shore of rock +The ocean wave. And if at last we yield, +Leave many a death, amidst their hollow ranks, +To damp the measure, of their dear-bought joy. + + +SCENE X _and Last_. _Bunkers-Hill._ + +_The American Army overpower'd by numbers are obliged to retreat._ + +_Enter HOWE, PIGOT, and CLINTON with the British Army._ + +RICHARDSON [_a young officer, on the parapet_]. + + The day is ours, huzza, the day is ours, +This last attack has forc'd them to retreat. + +CLINTON. + + 'Tis true, full victory declares for us, +But we have dearly, dearly purchas'd it. +Full fifteen hundred of our men lie dead, +Who, with their officers, do swell the list +Of this day's carnage--On the well-fought hill, +Whole ranks cut down, lie struggling with their wounds, +Or close their bright eyes, in the shades of night. +No wonder! such incessant musketry, +And fire of Cannon, from the hill-top pour'd, +Seem'd not the agency of mortal men, +But Heaven itself, with snares, and vengeance arm'd, +T' oppose our gaining it. E'en when was spent +Their ammunition, and fierce Warren slain, +Huge stones were hurled from the rocky brow, +And war renew'd, by these inveterate; +Till Gard'ner wounded, the left wing gave way, +And with their shatter'd infantry, the whole, +Drawn off by Putnam, to the causeway fled, +When from the ships, and batt'ries on the wave +They met deep loss, and strew'd the narrow bridge, +With lifeless carcases. Oh, such a day, +Since Sodom and Gomorrah sunk in flames, +Hath not been heard of by the ear of man, +Nor hath an eye beheld its parallel. + +LORD PIGOT. + + The day is ours, but with heart-piercing loss, +Of soldiers slain, and gallant officers. +Old Abercrombie, on the field lies dead. +Pitcairn and Sherwin, in sore battle slain. +The gallant reg'ment of Welsh fusileers, +To seventeen privates, is this day reduc'd. +The grenadiers stand thinly on the hill, +Like the tall fir-trees on the blasted heath, +Scorch'd by the autumnal burnings, which have rush'd, +With wasting fire fierce through its leafy groves. +Should ev'ry hill by the rebellious foe, +So well defended, cost thus dear to us, +Not the united forces of the world, +Could master them, and the proud rage subdue +Of these AMERICANS.-- + +HOWE. + + E'en in an enemy I honour worth, +And valour eminent. The vanquish'd foe, +In feats of prowess shew their ancestry, +And speak their birth legitimate; +The sons of Britons, with the genuine flame, +Of British heat, and valour in their veins. +What pity 'tis, such excellence of mind, +Should spend itself, in the fantastic cause, +Of wild-fire liberty.--Warren is dead, +And lies unburied, on the smoky hill; +But with rich honours he shall be inhum'd, +To teach our soldiery, how much we love, +E'en in a foe, true worth and noble fortitude. +Come then, brave soldiers, and take up the dead, +Majors, and Col'nels, which are this day slain, +And noble Captains of sweet life bereft. +Fair flowers shall grow upon their grassy tombs, +And fame in tears shall tell their tragedy, +To many a widow and soft weeping maid, +Or parent woe-ful for an only son, +Through mourning _Britain_, and _Hibernia's_ isle. + +_Enter BURGOYNE from Boston._ + + Oft have I read, in the historic page, +And witnessed myself, high scenes in war: +But this rude day, unparallel'd in time, +Has no competitor--The gazing eye, +Of many a soldier, from the chimney-tops, +And spires of Boston, witnessed when Howe, +With his full thousands, moving up the hill, +Receiv'd the onset of the impetuous foe. +The hill itself, like Ida's burning mount, +When Jove came down, in terrors, to dismay +The Grecian host, enshrouded in thick flames; +And round its margin, to the ebbing wave, +A town on fire, and rushing from its base, +With ruin hideous, and combustion down. +Mean time, deep thunder, from the hollow sides +Of the artill'ry, on the hilltop hear'd, +With roar of thunder, and loud mortars play'd, +From the tall ships, and batt'ries on the wave, +Bade yon blue ocean, and wide heaven resound. +A scene like which, perhaps, no time shall know, +Till Heav'n with final ruin fires the ball, +Burns up the cities, and the works of men, +And wraps the mountains in one gen'ral blaze. + + [_Exeunt._ + +_The End._ + + + + +EPILOGUE + +_Written by a Gentleman of the Army._ + + +_Supposed to be spoken, immediately after the Battle; by LIEUTENANT + COLONEL WEBB, Aide-de-camp to GENERAL PUTNAM._ + +The field is theirs, but dearly was it bought, +Thus long defended and severely fought. +Now pale-fac'd death sits brooding o'er the strand, +And views the carnage of his ruthless hand. +But why my heart this deep unbidden sigh, +Why steals the tear, soft trickling from the eye? +Is FREEDOM master'd by our late defeat, +Or HONOUR wounded by a brave retreat? +'Tis nature dictates; and in pride's despite, +I mourn my brethren slaughter'd in the fight. +Th' insulting foe now revels o'er the ground, +Yet flush'd with victory, they feel the wound. +Embru'd in gore, they bleed from ev'ry part, +And deep wounds rankle at _Britannia's_ heart. +O fatal conquest! Speak thou crimson'd plain, +Now press'd beneath the weight of hundreds slain! +There heaps of _British_ youth promiscuous lie, +Here, murder'd FREEMEN catch the wand'ring eye. +Observe yon stripling bath'd in purple gore, +He bleeds for FREEDOM on his native shore. +His livid eyes in drear convulsions roll, +While from his wounds escapes the flutt'ring soul, +Breathless and naked on th' ensanguin'd plain, +Midst friends and brothers, sons and fathers slain. +No pitying hand his languid eyes to close, +He breathes his last amidst insulting foes; +His body plunder'd, massacred, abus'd; +By Christians--Christian fun'ral rites refus'd-- +Thrown as a carrion in the public way, +To Dogs, to Britons, and to Birds a prey. +Enwrapt in sulph'rous flame and clouds of smoke, +Brave Gard'ner sinks beneath the deadly stroke, +And Warren bleeds to grace the bloody strife, +And for his injur'd country gives his life. +Yet while his mighty soul ascends the skies, +On earth his blood for ten-fold vengeance cries. +Great spirit rest--by Heaven it is decreed, +Thy murd'ring tyrants by the sword shall bleed. +E'en racks and gibbets would but consecrate, +And death repeated be too kind a fate. +The sword is drawn, in peace no more to rest, +Till justice bathes it in some tyrant's breast. +Honour my weapon with the glorious task, +And let me stab, 'tis all the boon I ask. +Kind pow'rs, beneath your all-protecting shield, +I now unsheathe my sword, and take the field +Sure of success, with this sweet comfort giv'n, +Who fights for FREEDOM,--fights the cause of HEAV'N. + + + + +AN ODE + +_on the Battle of BUNKERS-HILL._ + + +_Sung and Acted by a Soldier in a Military Habit, with his Firelock, +&c._ + +_In the Same Measure with a Sea Piece, Entitled the "Tempest."_ + + --Cease, rude Boreas, blust'ring railer-- + + I. + + You bold warriors, who resemble + Flames, upon the distant hill, + At whose view, the heroes tremble, + Fighting with unequal skill. + Loud-sounding drums now with hoarse murmurs, + Rouse the spirit up to war, + Fear not, fear not, tho' their numbers, + Much to ours, superior are. + Hear brave WARREN bold commanding, + "Gallant souls and vet'rans brave, + See the enemy just landing, + From the navy-cover'd wave. + Close the wings--advance the center-- + Engineers point well your guns-- + Clap the matches, let the rent air, + Bellow to _Britannia's_ sons." + + + II. + + Now think you see, three thousand moving, + Up the brow of BUNKERS-HILL, + Many a gallant vet'ran shoving, + Cowards on against their will. + The curling volumes all behind them, + Dusky clouds of smoke arise, + Our cannon-balls, brave boys shall find them, + At each shot a hero dies. + Once more WARREN midst this terror, + "Charge, brave soldiers, charge again, + Many an expert vet'ran warrior + Of the enemy is slain. + Level well your charged pieces, + In direction to the town; + They shake, they shake, their lightning ceases, + That shot brought six standards down." + + + III. + + Maids in virgin beauty blooming, + On _Britannia's_ sea-girt isle, + Say no more your swains are coming, + Or with songs the day beguile. + For sleeping sound in death's embraces, + On their clay-cold beds they lie, + Death, grim death, alas defaces, + Youth and pleasure which must die. + "March the right wing, GARD'NER, yonder, + Take th' assailing foe in flank, + The hero's spirit lives in thunder, + Close there, sergeants, close that rank. + The conflict now doth loudly call on + Highest proof of martial skill, + Heroes shall sing of them, who fall on, + The slipp'ry brow of BUNKERS-HILL." + + + IV. + + Unkindest fortune, still thou changest, + As the wind upon the wave, + The good and bad alike thou rangest, + Undistinguish'd in the grave. + Shall kingly tyrants see thee smiling, + Whilst the brave and just must die, + Them of sweet hope and life beguiling + In the arms of victory? + "Behave this day, my lads, with spirit, + Wrap the hill-top as in flame; + Oh, if we fall, let each one merit, + Immortality in fame. + From this high ground like Vesuv'us + Pour the floods of fire along; + Let not, let not, numbers move us, + We are yet five hundred strong." + + + V. + + Many a widow sore bewailing + Tender husbands, shall remain, + With tears and sorrows, unavailing, + From this hour to mourn them slain. + The rude scene striking all by-standers, + Bids the little band retire, + Who can live like salamanders, + In such floods of liquid fire? + "Ah! Our troops are sorely pressed, + HOWE ascends the smoky hill, + Wheel inward, let these ranks be faced, + We have yet some blood to spill. + Our right wing push'd, our left surrounded, + Weight of numbers five to one, + WARREN dead, and GARD'NER wounded, + Ammunition is quite gone." + + + VI. + + See the steely points, bright gleaming, + In the sun's fierce dazzling ray, + Groans arising, life-blood streaming, + Purple o'er the face of day. + The field is cover'd with the dying, + Free-men mixt with tyrants lie, + The living with each other vying, + Raise the shout of battle high. + Now brave PUTNAM, aged soldier, + "Come, my vet'rans, we must yield; + More equal match'd, we'll yet charge bolder, + For the present quit the field. + The GOD of battles shall revisit, + On their heads each soul that dies, + Take courage, boys, we yet sha'n't miss it, + From a thousand victories." + + + + +A SPEECH + +_By GENERAL WASHINGTON, on his entering the Town of Boston, at the head + of the American Army, after the British troops were by his skilful + approaches obliged to abandon it._ + + + Auspicious day, of happiness unmix'd! + When this fair City, without blood-shed won, + Receives to her sweet bosom, once again, + Her free-born sons, of perseverance try'd, + And noble fortitude, in deeds of arms. + Now let the father meet his infant son, + His virgin daughter, and long faithful spouse, + And kiss away all tears, but those of joy. + Now, let the ardent lover clasp his fair, + New flush the red rose in her damask cheek, + Light up the glad beam in her rolling eye, + And bid all pain and sorrowing be gone. + Oh, happy day--Shine on thou blissful sun, + And not one vapour blemish thy career, + Till from thy mid-day champaign, wheeling do + Thou in the western ocean go to rest. + O happy town--Now let thy buildings smile, + Thy streets run down, with silver floods of joy, + And from thy temples, loudly, hymn and song + Sweep the high arches of resounding Heaven. + Yes, fellow soldiers, let us bend to him + Who gave us strength, and confidence of soul, + To meet the Battle and fierce iron war, + Urg'd on severe by the tyrannic foe, + With deadly thunder, and mischievous arms. + To him who with his tempest, bulg'd the deep, + And their full hundred war-ships, on the bay, + Chain'd, with his strong wind, to the North-east shore. + The hand of Heaven, is visible in this, + And we, O God, pour forth our souls in praise. + O fellow soldiers, let our off'rings rise, + Not in rich hecatombs, of bulls and goats, + But in true piety, and light of love, + And warm devotion, in the inward part. + Let your festivity be mix'd with thought, + And sober judgment, on this grand event. + March on, and take true pleasure to your arms, + You all are bridegrooms, to fair joy to-day. + + + + +A +MILITARY SONG +by the +ARMY: + +_On GENERAL WASHINGTON'S victorious entry into +the Town of Boston._ + + + I. + + Sons of valour, taste the glories, + Of Celestial LIBERTY, + Sing a Triumph o'er the Tories + Let the pulse of joy beat high. + + + II. + + Heaven this day hath foil'd the many + Fallacies of GEORGE their King, + Let the echo reach Britan'y, + Bid her mountain summits ring. + + + III. + + See yon Navy swell the bosom, + Of the late enraged sea, + Where e'er they go we shall oppose them, + Sons of valour must be free. + + + IV. + + Should they touch at fair RHODE-ISLAND, + There to combat with the brave, + Driven, from each hill, and high-land, + They shall plough the purple wave. + + + V. + + Should they thence, to fair VIRGIN'Y + Bend a squadron to DUNMORE, + Still with fear and ignominy, + They shall quit the hostile shore. + + + VI. + + To CAROLINA or to GEORG'Y, + Should they next advance their fame, + This land of heroes shall disgorge the + Sons of tyranny and shame. + + + VII. + + Let them rove to climes far distant, + Situate under Arctic skies, + Call on Hessian troops assistant, + And the Savages to rise. + + + VIII. + + Boast of wild brigades from Russia, + To fix down the galling chain, + Canada and Nova Scotia, + Shall discharge these hordes again. + + + IX. + + In NEW-YORK State rejoin'd by CLINTON, + Should their standards mock the air, + Many a surgeon shall put lint on + Wounds of death received there. + + + X. + + War, fierce war, shall break their forces, + Nerves of tory men shall fail, + Seeing HOWE with alter'd courses, + Bending to the western gale. + + + XI. + + Thus, from every bay of ocean, + Flying back, with sails unfurl'd, + Tost with ever-troubl'd motion, + They shall quit this smiling world. + + + XII. + + Like Satan banished from HEAVEN, + Never see the smiling shore, + From this land so happy, driven, + Never stain its bosom more. + + _The End._ + + + + +TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES + +General: The variable hyphenation of Charles(-)town, hill(-)top, +Free(-)men, ten(-)fold, thunder(-)bolts and to(-)day in the original has +been preserved in this transcription. + +On page 241, Ioor has been capitalised in line with other playwrights. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Battle of Bunkers-Hill, by +Hugh Henry Brackenridge + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BATTLE OF BUNKERS-HILL *** + +***** This file should be named 29225.txt or 29225.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/2/29225/ + +Produced by David Starner, Brownfox and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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