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 | Columbia's glory |  |
Of sentiment and principle devoid,
What though thy agents, in a cause so vile,
To execute thy purposes, employ'd
The basest schemes of violence and guile?
What though Columbia oft has seen
Wide desolation spread,
Along her far extended coasts,
By their ill-natur'd spleen;
Her towns in ruins laid
To furnish matter for illiberal boasts;
The living to chagrin,
Trampled and spurn'd the ashes of the dead;
And, or by fire consum'd,
Or to the vilest uses doom'd,
The sacred temples of the Lord of Hosts.
What tho' she oft with virtuous pain,
And all a mother's anguish saw,
But saw alas! in vain,
(Dire outrages on natures law!)
Her daughters ravish'd, and her gallant sons.
Ev'n in the instant of surrender, fall
By the vile hands of miscreants profane,
With sword or bayonet or ball
Deliberately slain;
Or into cruel bondage led,—
Chid in imperious tones,
Revil'd, insulted, chain'd,—
Close crouded in some dreary cell,
With stale unwholesome food
And nauseous water fed,—
Scourg'd, threaten'd and constrain'd
Against their country to rebel,
And shed congenial blood,
Or, by severe decrees,
Condemn'd, in num'rous shoals,
By famine, hardship or disease,
To perish wretchedly, by slow degrees,
In prison-ships and goals?
What though, by thy intriguing knaves,
The Indian savages and Negro slaves
Were tempted to conspire
With a rebellious crew
Of base deserters from Columbia's cause,
Servile abettors of thy wicked laws,
Who would have giv'n thee more than was thy due?
Who, by attrocious crimes,
The scandal of the times,
Have well deserv'd the gibbit for their hire;
Who coasting the defenceless shores,
On their own native ground,
And at their parent's doors,
Have scatter'd desolation round
By plunder, sword and fire.
What though thy agents, in a cause so vile,
To execute thy purposes, employ'd
The basest schemes of violence and guile?
What though Columbia oft has seen
Wide desolation spread,
Along her far extended coasts,
By their ill-natur'd spleen;
Her towns in ruins laid
To furnish matter for illiberal boasts;
The living to chagrin,
Trampled and spurn'd the ashes of the dead;
28
Or to the vilest uses doom'd,
The sacred temples of the Lord of Hosts.
What tho' she oft with virtuous pain,
And all a mother's anguish saw,
But saw alas! in vain,
(Dire outrages on natures law!)
Her daughters ravish'd, and her gallant sons.
Ev'n in the instant of surrender, fall
By the vile hands of miscreants profane,
With sword or bayonet or ball
Deliberately slain;
Or into cruel bondage led,—
Chid in imperious tones,
Revil'd, insulted, chain'd,—
Close crouded in some dreary cell,
With stale unwholesome food
And nauseous water fed,—
Scourg'd, threaten'd and constrain'd
Against their country to rebel,
And shed congenial blood,
Or, by severe decrees,
Condemn'd, in num'rous shoals,
By famine, hardship or disease,
To perish wretchedly, by slow degrees,
In prison-ships and goals?
What though, by thy intriguing knaves,
The Indian savages and Negro slaves
Were tempted to conspire
With a rebellious crew
Of base deserters from Columbia's cause,
Servile abettors of thy wicked laws,
Who would have giv'n thee more than was thy due?
29
The scandal of the times,
Have well deserv'd the gibbit for their hire;
Who coasting the defenceless shores,
On their own native ground,
And at their parent's doors,
Have scatter'd desolation round
By plunder, sword and fire.
'Tis remarkable, that at Huntington on Long-Island, a certain Col. Thompson, wantonly projected the building of a fortification, needless as it was, on the burying ground, and that, in the execution of his plan the bones of a number of the dead were dug up.
In this manner were a number of American officers as well as privates, and among the rest, Col. Ledyard, Commandant of Fort Griswold, at Groton, a near relation of the author, was most savagely butchered by an officer, of the name of Beckwith, at the moment he delivered his sword in token of surrender.
| Columbia's glory | |