University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Arnold, with his Division.
Arnold.
Hard by the conflux of these sister tides,
It is determin'd, that we storm the wall.
This is the place, as fame reports to us,
By Montmorenci, where the Frenchmen lay,
T' oppose the British arms, what time great Wolfe
Rode on the bosom of that winding stream,
And meditated a debarkment here.
A shot—come on my veteran soldiery—
The salutation of their cannonade
Return with equal compliment. Wheel round
And circle this redoubt. Some rifle-men
Advance before, in silent ambuscade,
And pick them from that eminence. Long us'd
To strew the swift deer on the mountain top,
You need no council to direct your fire,
Save this, brave souls, take down their officers.
O, if this day, we stumble not, Quebec
With all her stores and magazines is ours
And thro' America the sound shall ring,
Of unstain'd victory; thro' all her groves,
The bold atchievment shall be mentioned,
And every hill shall echo with our fame.
A shot—A full platoon—Sad accident.
My ankle splintered with a musket ball.
I'm like Achilles, wounded in the heel,
And lose much blood. Be not discouraged,
My brave companions, but advance to fame.
I lose much blood, but yet will stay with you,
While one drop circles in the life-warm vein.

Oswald.
Nay Sir not so, the wound is dangerous.
Let these men bear you from the ensanguin'd field.
He faints with loss of blood. Support him hence
My gallant soldiers—let the wound be drest.

Morgan.
Come gallant souls, and patriots eminent,
Next in command on me devolves the task
Of Generalship; then may I pray from you
Obedience prompt, in this fair enterprize?
Say, shall I draw you off ingloriously,
With speediest step? or shall we yet advance,
And pour revenge on the indignant foe?
Think, Gentlemen, it will be base to leave
The brave Montgomery, who the other wall
By this time storming, will expect our aid,
And rendezvous in the besieged town.

Soldiery.
Lead on—lead on—we follow your command.

Morgan.
Come then brave Hendricks, in the charge advance
With these sure rifle-men, and from the mound
Of the first barrier pick the officers.

Oswald.
The barrier's ours, and the rude enemy
Lie in vast numbers wounded and cut off.

Captain Lamb.
Let some skill'd surgeon dress the wounded men;
For even an enemy, soft pity and love
Should have from us, if low and vanquished
They ask for mercy, and implore our aid.

Surgeon.
I dress them, Sir, with my best skill and speed,
For many lie deep wounded on the plain.
Some with their legs shot off, and some their arms
With grape-shot shatter'd. Some a musket-ball
Hath deeply pierc'd—

Captain Hendricks.
Bring up the ladders, plant them speedily.
One hundred Dollars Continental Bills,
Or gold of equal value to the man,
Distinguished with honour and fair fame,
Who first ascends the thirty-feet high wall.
Nor needs he doubt of firm and full support,
With the full corps of infantry, sustain'd.
Ye Pennsylvanian's, make the honour yours,
And shew the world, that Safquehanna's banks
Bred one adorn'd with this bright heraldry,
This standing monument of peerless praise,
That of this army, he the first assail'd
The ramparts of Quebec, swift-planting there,
The wide-stream'd standard, representative
With Thirteen streaks of ivory and blue,
The extended provinces. A fatal shot—

Oswald.
Fell tyranny, these are thy vestiges
In crimson battle and vindictive war,
Unpitying wag'd. The hero immature
Full in the vigour and fresh bloom of life,
With eye star-beaming, and high beating heart,
By thee cut down. The roseate glow of health
Fades on his cheek, and the sweet breath no more
Heaves in his bosom, yet soul-cheering thought!
Not unlamented, nor unwept he lies,
For many a tear, O Hendricks, shall bedew,
By Safquehanna's flood, the annual flowers,
When the sad story of thy mournful fate,
Is hence resounded to her rocky stream.