Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE BATTLE OF PLATTSBURG, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE BATTLE OF PLATTSBURG, by                    
First Line: "sir george prevost, with all his host"
Last Line: "he'll fight, they say, another day, / who saves himself by running"
Subject(s): "plattsburg, Battle Of;prevost, Sir George (1767-1816);war Of 1812;


SIR GEORGE PREVOST, with all his host,
March'd forth from Montreal, sir,
Both he and they as blithe and gay
As going to a ball, sir.
The troops he chose were all of those
That conquer'd Marshall Soult, sir;
Who at Garonne (the fact is known)
Scarce brought they to a halt, sir.

With troops like these, he thought with ease
To crush the Yankee faction:
His only thought was how he ought
To bring them into action.
"Your very names," Sir George exclaims,
"Without a gun or bayonet,
Will pierce like darts through Yankee hearts,
And all their spirits stagnate.

"Oh! how I dread lest they have fled
And left their puny fort, sir,
For sure Macomb won't stay at home,
T' afford us any sport, sir.
Good-by!" he said to those that stay'd:
"Keep close as mice or rats snug:
We'll just run out upon a scout,
To burn the town of Plattsburg."

Then up Champlain with might and main
He marched in dress array, sir;
With fife and drum to scare Macomb,
And drive him quite away, sir.
And, side by side, their nation's pride
Along the current beat, sir:
Sworn not to sup till they ate up
M'Donough and his fleet, sir.

Still onward came these men of fame
Resolved to give "no quarter:"
But to their cost they found at last
That they had caught a Tartar.
At distant shot awhile they fought,
By water and by land, sir:
His knightship ran from man to man,
And gave his dread command, sir.

"Britons, strike home! this dog Macomb --
So well the fellow knows us --
Will just as soon jump o'er the moon
As venture to oppose us.
With quick despatch light every match,
Man every gun and swivel,
Cross in a crack the Saranac,
And drive 'em to the devil!"

The Vermont ranks that lined the banks,
Then poised the unerring rifle,
And to oppose their haughty foes
They found a perfect trifle.
Meanwhile the fort kept up such sport,
They thought the devil was in it;
Their mighty train play'd off in vain --
'T was silenced in a minute.

Sir George, amazed, so wildly gazed,
Such frantic gambols acted,
Of all his men, not one in ten
But thought him quite distracted.
He cursed and swore, his hair he tore,
Then jump'd upon his pony,
And gallop'd off towards the bluff,
To look for Captain Downie.

But when he spied M'Donough ride,
In all the pomp of glory,
He hasten'd back to Saranac,
To tell the dismal story:
"My gallant crews -- Oh! shocking news --
Are all or killed or taken!
Except a few that just withdrew
In time to save their bacon.

"Old England's pride must now subside.
Oh! how the news will shock her,
To have her fleet not only beat,
But sent to Davy's locker.
From this sad day, let no one say
Britannia rules the ocean:
We've dearly bought the humbling thought,
That this is all a notion.

"With one to ten I'd fight 'gainst men,
But these are Satan's legions,
With malice fraught, some piping hot
From Pluto's darkest regions!
Helas! mon Dieu! what shall I do?
I smell the burning sulphur --
Set Britain's isle all rank and file,
Such men would soon engulf her.

"That's full as bad -- Oh! I'll run mad!
Those western hounds are summon'd;
Gaines, Scott, and Brown are coming down,
To serve me just like Drummond.
Thick, too, as bees, the Vermontese
Are swarming to the lake, sir;
And Izard's men, come back again,
Lie hid in every brake, sir.

"Good Brisbane, beat a quick retreat,
Before their forces join, sir:
For, sure as fate, they've laid a bait
To catch us like Burgoyne, sir.
All round about, keep good look out:
We'll surely be surrounded;
Since I could crawl, my gallant soul
Was never so astounded."

The rout begun, Sir George led on,
His men ran helter skelter,
Each tried his best t' outrun the rest
To gain a place of shelter;
To hide their fear, they gave a cheer,
And thought it mighty cunning --
He'll fight, they say, another day,
Who saves himself by running!





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