BALLAD LITERATURE. Huzzah, my valiant countrymen! again I say huz- Tis nobly done-the day's our own-huzzah, huzzah! Then laurels shall our glory crown For all our actions told: The hills shall echo all around, My loyal hearts of gold. Huzzah, my valiant countrymen!-again I say huz zah! 'Tis nobly done-the day's our own-huzzah, huzzah! The Pennsylvania Gazette of September 30, 1756, contains the following spirited ODE TO THE INHABITANTS OF PENNSYLVANIA. Still shall the tyrant scourge of Gaul On Britain's slumbering race? And not one generous chieftain rise In Britain's cause, with valour fired, Though Schuyler's arm was there. Lo! streaming through the clear blue sky, In British pomp display'd! Then rise, illustrious Britons, rise! But chief, let Pennsylvania wake, Their gloomy troops defy; For, lo! her smoking farms and plains, Her captured youths, and murder'd swains, Why should we seek inglorious rest, While ruthless, fierce, athirst for blood, Rouse, rouse at once, and boldly chase Let other Armstrongs* grace the field: And tremble round Du Quesne. And thou, our chief, and martial guide, The fine song, "As "How stands the glass around?" of power, The paths of glory lead but to the grave."* HOW STANDS THE GLASS AROUND? How stands the glass around? The colours they are flying, boys, Content with our hard fate, my boys, Why, soldiers, why, Should we be melancholy, boys? Why, soldiers, why? Whose business 'tis to die! Don't fear, drink on, be jolly, boys! "Tis he, you or I! Cold, hot, wet, or dry, We're always bound to follow, boys, "Tis but in vain,— I mean not to upbraid you, boys,- For soldiers to complain: Send us to him who made us, boys, But if we remain, A bottle and a kind landlady The worthy and gallant Colonel Armstrong, who, at the head of a number of the provincial troops, destroyed an Indian town, and its inhabitants, within twenty-five miles of Fort Du Quesne. + Bancroft's History United States, iv, 332. The death of Wolfe called forth many mournful tributes to his virtues. We select a few lines which appeared in the Pennsylvania Gazette, Nov. 8, 1759. Thy merits, Wolfe, transcend all human praise, Then, Wolfe, some faint resemblance should we find Thy last great scene should melt each Briton's heart, With foes surrounded, midst the shades of death, These were the words that closed the warrior's breath My eyesight fails!-but does the foe retreat? A generous chief, to whom the hero spoke, vance, And deal due vengeance on the sons of France." An awful band!-Britannia's mighty dead, JOHN MAYLEM. John Maylem was graduated at Harvard in 1715. He published, in 1758, The Conquest of Louisbourg, a Poem, 8vo. pp. 16, and in the same year, Gallic Perfidy, a Poem, about the same length. His name appears on the titlepages of both these productions, with the warlike aflix, "Philo-bellum." From the character of some unpublished poems, copied in a MS. collection made by Du Simitière the antiquary, preserved in the Philadelphia library, he appears to have loved wine and Venus as well. Du Simitière, who appears to have had a special fondness for the writer, has also copied a letter from John Maylem to Mr. J-s-phon, in which he calls himself a drunkard, and describes an attempt which he made to hang himself, in which a brief tension of the rope by his suspended neck was followed by an abandonment of the project, serious reflection, and, up to the date of the letter, a thorough reformation. Maylem's poetic ordnance is suggestive of the weight of the metal rather than the fire and momentum of the discharge. We will, however, give a brief passage from one of the most inten-ified of his "sound and fury" strains: Meanwhile, alternate deaths promiscuous fly, And the fierce meteors blaze along the sky; Then shiver in the air, and sudden pour With drooping flag and solemn pace advance, The following decided expression of opinion is taken from Du Simitière's MS. copy: SATIRE ON HALIFAX, IN NOVA SCOTIA. The dregs of Thames and Liffy's sable stream, Oh, Halifax! the worst of God's creation, We know nothing of this writer in connexion with America except that he wrote a portion of his poem on War in Newfoundland, in the winter of 1758; that the second edition of his performance was published at Portsmouth, "in Piscataqua, or New Hampshire Colony, in America, in 1761," the first having appeared in London in 1760, and the third "in Massachusetts Colony, in 1762." The fourth and last edition was published in London without date, but must have appeared in or before 1766, as we find it advertised in its complete form on the title-page of a play, The Conquest of Canada, by the same writer, and it was not until its fourth issue that it attained its full growth of ten books. He was also the author of Stentorian Eloquence and Medical Infal libility, a satire in verse on itinerant preachers and advertising quacks, published in 1771, and of Benevolence and Gratitude, a Poem, in 1772. The longest and most ambitious of these productions is the Heroic Poem on War. The subject grew upon the author from an account of the conquest of Louisburg to a chronicle of the entire war, including the achievements of the English at the Havana and Manilla. Wolfe is of course the chief hero of his chronicle. A few lines from the argument of his poem will display its style: BALLAD LITERATURE. I sing how Wolfe, the faithless foe engag'd; In Britain's cause (amidst the martial strife) * * * # Where English, Scotch, and bold Hibernians storm, The three-fold pow'rs their gallantry display, The closing simile is a good specimen of the strangely combined vigor and absurdity which characterize this odd production. Cockings's versification was amended by practice. His progress reminds us of those remarkable specimens of improvement put forth by advertising writing-masters as proofs of the proficiency of their pupils. As a specimen of his first attempt we will give the salutation of Sophia to her lover, Wolfe, when he comes to take leave of her before leaving for America, an interview to which the general has worked up himself and his audience by a preliminary soliloquy : Sophia.-When I find, sir, you prefer the noise and Danger of the Battle, and Fatigues of A foreign Campaign, to the quiet enjoyment Second attempt-A passage from the descrip- So fought brave Wolfe; so look'd their island fort. When empiricks illit'rate rise, And cram the press with bare-fac'd lies, Fourth and last attempt, from Benevolence and Gratitude, a very fair copy of verses, Master Cockings, with an exuberance of flourish quite remarkable as compared with the cramped hand of No. 1: Descend celestial muse! my song inspire; Cockings, but little successful as an epic, is still less so as a dramatic poet. His play is heavy and absurd. His heroes seem to forget in their long speeches that they have started with blank verse, their language soon degenerates into the plainest of plain prose. A passage from the thick of the action before Quebec will show, however, that the author lavishes his choicest sitniles with demoVOL. I.-28 cratic impartiality on the humbler as well as more Front Trumpet.-My brave fellows! behave like There's warm duty for ye! A sailor answers.-Never fear, sir! BENJAMIN YOUNG PRIME. The Patriot Muse, or Poems on some of the principal events of the late war: together with a poem on the Peace: Vincit amor patria: By an American Gentleman, was published at London in 1764, in an 8vo. pamphlet of 94 pages. It is stated in a note in the copy belonging to the Philadelphia Library, to be by Benjamin Young Prime of New York. It contains poems on Gen. Braddock's defeat; on the surrender of Fort William Henry; an elegy on Governor Belcher, the governor of New Jersey, and the Rev. Aaron Burr, President of Nassau Hall. A few lines will give a sufficient idea of the last. But whither am I led? why all this grief? An Ode on Viscount George Augustus Howe, slain in a skirmish near Carillon, July 6th, 1758, follows an ode on the surrender of Louisburg. It consists of thirty-four stanzas similar to the following: "Tis done, 'tis done, The day is won, At length the destin'd blow is giv'n; And strong our foes, Our cause is still the cause of heav'n, Another ode, "composed on the taking of Que bec," contains a tribute to Wolfe. Ah Wolfe! the mention of thy name Brave man! my conscious bosom bleeds, In pensive moans complain, When ah! perhaps her bravest hero dies? And in soft mis'ry mourn; Awhile my Shall drop the gay unfinished song, For her surviving sons the laurel wreath Struck by thy hapless fate, she joins To mourn her loss and their's in thy lamented death. Thou freely couldst resign Couldst act the patriot hero's part, As once the Decii certain death defy'd, Thus like those heroes didst thou greatly fall, Long as Quebec shall rear aloft her head, Long as Laurentius in his spacious bed, This is followed by two patriotic hymns, composed for, and sung on days of national thanksgiving, "by desire of the preacher on his text." The author also tries his hand on French verse, and gives La Lamentation de Louis sur les victoires des Anglois. A.D. MDCCLX. This is followed by Loyal Tears shed over Royal Dust, an elegy on George II. Also, "on the Liberty of the Press to Mr. F―, printer, at New York, A.D. MDCCLXII." With other verses on incidents of the war, and two Latin paraphrases of the lament of David over Absalom, and the fight with Goliath. In 1791, Dr. Prime published Columbia's Glory, or British Pride Humbled; a Poem on the American Revolution: some part of it being a parody on an ode entitled Britain's Glory, or Gallic Pride Humbled; composed on the capture of Quebec, A.D. 1759, by Benjamin Young Prime, M.D. In a brief preface, he speaks of his former publication in London, in 1764, and of the requests of his friends made to him to compose a parody upon it in honor of the American revolution. The plan expanded to a composition of 1441 lines, occupied with a review of the events of the war, a eulogy of the friends and denunciation of the enemies of the country. It was ready for publication at the close of the war, but, as the author informs us, in consequence of a seven years' absence from the city, his affairs had become somewhat deranged, and as no printer could be found to execute the work on any but cash terms, he postponed publishing for a few years. We extract a portion of a panegyric upon Washington:— O Washington! thou dear, illustrious chief! The soldier's glory and thy country's pride! Through the dire contest, and her sweet relief From the Virginia Gazette, May 2, 1766. Sure never was picture drawn more to the life Or affectionate husband more fond of his wife, Than America copies and loves Britain's sons, Who, conscious of Freedom, are bold as great guns. "Hearts of Oak are we still, for we're sons of those Men, Who always are ready, steady, boys, steady, To fight for their freedom again and again." Tho' we feast and grow fat on America's soil, Yet we own ourselves subjects of Britain's fair isle; And who's so absurd to deny us the name! Since true British blood flows in every vein. "Hearts of Oak, &c." Then cheer up, my lads, to your country be firm, Like kings of the ocean, we'll weather each storm; Integrity calls out, fair liberty, see, Waves her Flag o'er our heads and her words are be free. "Hearts of Oak, &c." give. Our worthy forefathers (let's give them a cheer) Their generous bosoms all dangers despised, The tree their own hands had to Liberty rear'd, gain, For our children shall gather the fruits of our pain." In freedom we're born, &c. How sweet are the labours that freemen endure, Swarms of placemen and pensionerst soon will Then join hand in hand, brave Americans all, All ages shall speak with amaze and applause This bumper I crown for our sovereign's health, In freedom we're born, &c. A tory parody of this song appeared in the Supplement Extraordinary to the Boston Gazette of Monday, September 26, 1768: Last Tuesday the following song made its ap- And own that you're mad at fair Liberty's call. In folly you're born, and in folly you'll live, And stupidly steady, Not as men but as monkies, the tokens you give. Your grandsire, old Satan-now give him a cheer!— In folly, &c. Such villains, such rascals, all dangers despise, In folly, &c. The tree which the wisdom of justice hath rear'd, spared, When fuddled with rum, the mad sots to restrain; Your brats and your bunters by no means forget, steal, Who ne'er in his life knew the scent of a meal. In folly, &c. When in your own cellars you've quaffed a regale, Then plunder, my lads, for when red coats appear, Then nod your poor numbskulls, ye pumpkins, and bawl! The De'il take such rascals, fools, whoresons and all. All ages shall speak with contempt and amaze, In folly, &c. Gulp down your last dram, for the gallows now We are indebted for this and the previous song to a very valuable collection of cuttings from American and English newspapers, illustrating the history of our country from 1660 to 1840, formed by the antiquary William Upcott, in the possession of the New York Historical Society. |