'T WAS in the reign of George the Third The public peace was much disturb'd By ships of war, that came and laid Within our ports to stop our trade. In seventeen hundred seventy-two, In Newport harbor lay a crew That play'd the parts of pirates there, The sons of Freedom could not bear. Sometimes they'd weigh and give them chase -- Such actions, sure, were very base; No honest coasters could pass by But what they would let some shot fly. Which did provoke to high degree Those true-born sons of Liberty, So that they could no longer bear Those sons of Belial staying there. But 't was not long 'fore it fell out, That William Doddington so stout, Commander of the Gaspee tender, Which he had reason to remember -- Because, as people do assert, He almost had his just desert Here, on the tenth day of last June, Between the hours of twelve and one -- Did chase the sloop call'd the Hannah, Of whom one Linsey was commander; They dogg'd her up to Providence Sound, And there the rascal got aground. The news of it flew, that very day, That they on Nanquit Point did lay, That night, about half after ten, Some Narragansett Indian-men -- Being sixty-four, if I remember, Soon made this stout coxcomb surrender: And what was best of all their tricks, They in his breech a ball did fix. They set the men upon the land, And burn'd her up, we understand; Which thing provoked the king so high, He said, "those men should surely die." So, if he can but find them out, The hangman he'll employ, no doubt: For he has declared, in his passion, "He'll have them tried in a new fashion." Now for to find those people out, King George has offered, very stout, One thousand pounds to find out one That wounded William Doddington. One thousand more he says he'll spare, For those who say they sheriffs were: One thousand more there doth remain For to find out the leader's name. Likewise, one hundred pounds per man, For any one of all the clan. But let him try his utmost skill, I'm apt to think he never will Find out any of those hearts of gold, Though he should offer fifty fold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER THE QUARREL by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE GRAPE-VINE SWING by WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 67 by ALFRED TENNYSON CANE: NOVEMBER COTTON FLOWER by JEAN TOOMER STARRY NIGHT by KENNETH SLADE ALLING |