 | The lay of the Scottish fiddle : a tale of Havre de Grace |  |
XX.
Valiant O'Neale amid the crowd,Cry'd out “by Jesus,” oft and loud;
But finding that it would not do,
To fright the plunder-loving crew,
Retir'd behind a neighbouring wall,
And swore as loud as he could bawl,
Till Cockburn's men as legends say,
Kidnap'd and carry'd him away.
Thrice valiant wight! of mighty fame,
And far as swearing goes—true game,
A thousand heroes, just like you,
Had put childe Cockburn's prowess down,
And very likely, sav'd the town.
Mr. Scott here seems to insinuate that O'Neale distinguished himself only by making a great noise, and swearing lustily. Whether this injustice of the poet proceeds from some remains of the old grudge arising from the dispute about Ossian, or about the honour of peopling the two countries, the Editor cannot tell. This much is pretty certain, that he has not given due credit to O'Neale for his superior prowess. It has been clearly ascertained, that he killed two of the twelve canvas back duets, mentioned in the preceding poem; and it is, moreover, the general opinion in the neighbourhood of Havre de Grace, that he would have killed several of the British, had he not, by a very excusable blunder, shut both eyes instead of one, whenever he pulled the trigger.
| The lay of the Scottish fiddle : a tale of Havre de Grace | |