Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SAINCLAIRE'S DEFEAT, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SAINCLAIRE'S DEFEAT, by                    
First Line: "'twas november the fourth, in the year of 'ninety-one"
Last Line: "he fell that day amongst the slain, a valiant man was he"
Subject(s): "native Americans;ohio;st. Clair, Arthur (1736-1818);" Indians Of America;american Indians;indians Of South America


'T WAS November the fourth, in the year of ninety-one,
We had a sore engagement near to Fort Jefferson;
Sainclaire was our commander, which may remembered be,
For there we left nine hundred men in t' West'n Ter'tory.

At Bunker's Hill and Quebeck, there many a hero fell,
Likewise at Long Island (it is I the truth can tell),
But such a dreadful carnage may I never see again
As hap'ned near St. Mary's, upon the river plain.

Our army was attacked just as the day did dawn,
And soon was overpowered and driven from the lawn.
They killed Major Ouldham, Levin and Briggs likewise,
And horrid yells of savages resounded through the skies.

Major Butler was wounded the very second fire;
His manly bosom swell'd with rage when forc'd to retire;
And as he lay in anguish, nor scarcely could he see,
Exclaim'd, "Ye hounds of hell! Oh, revenged I will be!"

We had not been long broken when General Butler found
Himself so badly wounded, was forced to quit the ground;
"My God!" says he, "what shall we do? we're wounded every man;
Go charge them, valiant heroes, and beat them if you can."

He leaned his back against a tree, and there resigned his breath,
And like a valiant soldier sunk in the arms of death;
When blessed angels did await his spirit to convey,
And unto the celestial fields he quickly bent his way.

We charg'd again with courage firm, but soon again gave ground;
The war-whoop then redoubled, as did the foes around.
They killed Major Ferguson, which caused his men to cry,
"Our only safety is in flight, or fighting here to die."

"Stand to your guns," says valiant Ford; "let's die upon them here,
Before we let the sav'ges know we ever harbored fear!"
Our cannon-balls exhausted, and artill'rymen all slain,
Obliged were our musketmen the enemy to sustain.

Yet three hours more we fought them, and then were forc'd to yield,
When three hundred warriors lay stretched upon the field.
Says Colonel Gibson to his men, "My boys, be not dismayed;
I'm sure that true Virginians were never yet afraid.

"Ten thousand deaths I'd rather die than they should gain the field!"
With that he got a fatal shot, which caused him to yield.
Says Major Clarke, "My heroes, I can here no longer stand;
We'll strive to form in order, and retreat the best we can."

The word "Retreat!" being passed around, there was a dismal cry,
Then helter-skelter through the woods like wolves and sheep they fly.
This well-appointed army, who but a day before
Defied and braved all danger, had like a cloud passed o'er.

Alas, the dying and wounded, how dreadful was the thought!
To the tomahawk and scalping-knife in misery are brought.
Some had a thigh and some an arm broke on the field that day,
Who writhed in torments at the stake to close the dire affray.

To mention our brave officers, is what I wish to do;
No sons of Mars e'er fought more brave, or with more courage true.
To Captain Bradford I belonged, in his artillery,
He fell that day amongst the slain, a valiant man was he.





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