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 C33&B Y 
 
 MRS O. S. MATTESON 
 
THE 
 
 CENTENNIAL FLIGHT 
 
 KING OF THE AIR 
 
 A POETICAL DESCRIPTION OP 
 
 THE BATTLES OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR, WITH THE 
 
 PLACES AND DATES OF THEIR OCCURRENCE ; 
 
 AS SEEN BY THAT GRAND OLD BIRD, 
 
 THE AMERICAN EAGLE. 
 
 IN TWO CANTOS. 
 
 • 
 
 By MES. O. S. MATTESON. 
 
 
 CHICAGO : 
 HAZLITT & REED, PRINTERS, 172 and 174 Clark Street. 
 
 1875. 
 

 COPYRIGHT. 
 
 MKS. O. S. MATTESON. 
 
 1875. 
 
TO 
 
 MY HUSBAND, 
 
 J. Jeffer^ojm ^VIatte^on, 
 
 FOR HIS KINDNESS OF HEART, INTEGRITY OF CHARAC- 
 TER, AND STRICT MORAL PRINCIPLES, THIS 
 VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY DED- 
 ICATED BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
INDEX TO THE REVOLUTIONARY WAIL 
 
 1755. 
 
 July 9. 
 
 1773. 
 
 Dec. 16. 
 
 1775. 
 
 Apr. 19. 
 
 
 Apr. 19. 
 
 
 May 10. 
 
 
 May 10. 
 
 
 June 17. 
 
 
 Oct. 27. 
 
 
 Dec. 8. 
 
 
 Dec. 81. 
 
 1776. 
 
 Jan. 1. 
 
 
 Mar. 17. 
 
 
 May 6. 
 
 
 June 15. 
 
 
 June 28. 
 
 
 Aug. 23. 
 
 
 Sep. 15. 
 
 
 Oct. 15. 
 
 
 Dec. 26. 
 
 
 Dec. 27. 
 
 L777. 
 
 Jan. 3. 
 
 
 Mar. 23. 
 
 
 Apr. 13. 
 
 
 Apr. 25. 
 
 
 July 6. 
 
 
 July 6. 
 
 
 July 7. 
 
 
 July 8. 
 
 
 Aug. 16. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Braddock's Defeat 45 
 
 Boston Tea Party 48 
 
 Battle of Lexington 48 
 
 Battle of Concord 48 
 
 Battle of Ticonderoga 49 
 
 Battle of Crown Point 49 
 
 Battle of Bunker Hill . 50 
 
 Battle of Hampton 52 
 
 Battle of Norfolk 52 
 
 Death of Montgomery 54 
 
 Burning of Norfolk 52 
 
 Boston Evacuated 58 
 
 Retreat from Quebec 56 
 
 Montreal Evacuated 56 
 
 Battle of Charleston 61 
 
 Battle of Long Island 64 
 
 British gain New York 68 
 
 British gain Crown Point. 72 
 
 Battle of Trenton 76 
 
 Battle of Borden town _ 76 
 
 Battle of Princeton 77 
 
 Peekskill Evacuated 80 
 
 Battle of Bound Brook 80 
 
 Danbury Captured 81 
 
 Ticonderoga Evacuated 85 
 
 Battle of Skeenesborough 86 
 
 Battle of Castletown 86 
 
 Battleof Fort Ann 86 
 
 Battle of Bennington 87 
 
 (5) 
 
h INDEX. 
 
 Aug. 22. Battle of Fort Schuyler 87 
 
 Sept. 11. Battle of Brandywine 82 
 
 Sept. 19. Battle of Stillwater 88 
 
 Oct. 10. Battle of Saratoga 89 
 
 Oct. 16. Burgoyne's Surrender 89 
 
 Oct. 22. Battle of Fort Redbank 88 
 
 Nov. 15. Battle of Fort Mifflin 84 
 
 1778. June 18. British Evacuate Philadelphia 91 
 
 July 1. Massacre of Wyoming 94 
 
 Aug. 28. Siege of Newport raised 92 
 
 Dec. 29. Battle of Savannah 95 
 
 1779. May 12. Attempt on Charleston 96 
 
 May 31. Evacuation of Stony Point 97 
 
 June 1. Battle of Fort La Fayette 97 
 
 June 20. Battle of Stono Ferry 96 
 
 July 5. Battle of New Haven 97 
 
 July 6. Battle of Fairfield 97 
 
 July 16. Battle of Stony Point 98 
 
 Aug. 22. Battle with the Indians 99 
 
 Oct. 9. Storming of Savannah 99 
 
 1780. May 12. Surrender of Charleston 101 
 
 June 23. Burning of Springfield 105 
 
 Oct. 7. Battle of King's Mountain 106 
 
 Dec. 27. Battle of Ninety-Six 106 
 
 1781. Jan. 17. Battle of Cow Pens 107 
 
 Feb. 25. Battle of Hillsborough 109 
 
 Mar. 6. Battle of Reedy Fork _ 109 
 
 Mar. 15. Battle of Guildford Court House... 109 
 
 Apr.23. Battle of Fort "Watson 110 
 
 Apr. 25. Battle of Hobkerk's Hill 111 
 
 May 10. Camden Evacuated 111 
 
 May 22. Ninety-Six Besieged 112 
 
 June 5. Surrender of Augusta 112 
 
 July 13. Battle of Monk's Corner 113 
 
 Sept. 8. Battle of Eutaw Springs 113 
 
 Sept. 30. Yorktown Invested 116 
 
 Oct. 19. Surrender of Corn wallis 116 
 
INTRODUCTORY 
 
 A hundred years ! Years fraught with joy and sorrow! 
 Tears in which were crowded alike the voiceless pangs 
 of unutterable woe and the sweet, delicious pulsings of 
 the most intense bliss ! Years which alike saw the na- 
 tion throbbing beneath a weight of gloom, or gliding in 
 tranquil security on the Sea of Fate. Years in which 
 storm-clouds and fierce winds cast their strength upon 
 the Ship of State, or brightest sunbeams shimmered down 
 through silvery rifts, glinting earth and sea with their 
 wealth of golden beauty. 
 
 The dim, shadowy past is replete with memories of 
 grand and mighty deeds, lofty, hope-inspired words, and 
 burning thoughts that have given a silvery lining to 
 hosts of tempest-riven clouds! Grandest lives have come 
 and gone, and the faithful, steadfast patriots, whose life- 
 blood bought for us this grand Republic, have long been 
 partakers of the divine glory their chivalric daring so 
 richly merited. 
 
 And yet, on and on through the endless ages of the 
 mystic future, shall the results of their noble life-work 
 thrill through the mighty universe, perhaps unseen, un- 
 felt iD its ministry, yet silently, grandly adding more 
 
 (?) 
 
8 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 perfect gems to the crowns of glory that awaited them 
 in the unseen life. 
 
 Heaven is rich in noble lives, and yet earth boasts its 
 heroes, whose deeds have thrilled the nation with unpar- 
 alleled bravery. As years roll on they bring up from the 
 depths of life, heroes whose grand souls freely devote 
 their life-work to the common good, and whose thoughts 
 are ever searching for some grand and beneficent result. 
 Thus it has ever been — thus will it ever be. To-day the 
 nation is a mighty power, steadfast and firm as the rock 
 where first it blossomed in its frail and helpless childhood. 
 
 The bud of promise has become a grand and georgeous 
 tree, and its stalwart branches reach from sun to sun, 
 gathering beneath their protecting care buds and blossoms 
 from every clime. We trust that its noble proportions 
 will never decrease, but that its grandeur will expand 
 throughout an eternity. 
 
 Author. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 FROM ENGLAND TO AMERICA. 
 
 Where the cliff hung beetling over, 
 
 Toppling from the British coast — 
 Lashed by waves in fury driven, 
 
 Seething round in contact close — 
 Where the foam went dashing upward, 
 
 Falling back in misty spray, 
 Came an Eagle, deftly working, 
 
 Toiling mutely, day by day. 
 
 Where no mortal step could wander, 
 
 On the topmost shaggy crest — 
 Safe from shock of storms or billows, 
 
 There this Eagle built her nest; 
 Built it far above the rushing 
 
 Of the white-caps down below, 
 And the hissing of the waters 
 
 In their angry, sullen flow. 
 2 (17) 
 
18 THE KING OF THE AIE. 
 
 All day long she heard the dashing 
 
 Of the spray against the rock, 
 And the thunder of the billows 
 
 As they broke, with fearful shock; 
 And the wind, in fitful gushes 
 
 Soughed and whistled through the crags, 
 Died away in plaintive moanings, 
 
 As it kissed the pendant jags. 
 
 Overhead she saw the sunlight 
 
 Drifting down in golden rays, 
 And at eve the starry watchers 
 
 Twinkled, in their witching ways; 
 And afar, o'er wealth of country, 
 
 Came the sound of busy life, 
 And the scent of luscious fruitage — 
 
 Far away from war and strife. 
 
 Faithful watched she, till the breaking 
 
 Of the shells her efforts crowned, 
 And the snowy crested Eaglets 
 
 Grew to rise and sail around : 
 Then, from 'neath maternal guarding, 
 
 One, more bold and fearless grown, 
 Strained its vision westward, longing 
 
 For a land to call its own. 
 
 Daily round the crest he circled, 
 
 Gaining strength at every turn — 
 Dashing swiftly o'er the country, 
 
 Something of its ways to learn. 
 Poised he o'er the peasant's cottage, 
 
 O'er the castles of the peers, 
 Till he found that English grandeur 
 
 Gained its wealth by peasant's tears. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 19 
 
 Thus lie viewed their stately castles, 
 
 With their rich and costly grounds, 
 And their parks so full of beauty, 
 
 As he went his daily rounds: 
 And he sighed for toiling serfdom 
 
 Pining, longing to be free — 
 And his heart grew sick with yearning 
 
 For a land of liberty. 
 
 For a land where Freedom's vintage, 
 
 Garnered forth from Freedom's soil, 
 Blessed the poor as well as lofty — 
 
 Rightful pay for human toil: 
 For a land where Lord or Noble 
 
 Over peasant held no sway — 
 For a land where monarch's pleasure 
 
 Could not sign a life awa}^. 
 
 Back beneath the drooping ledges — 
 
 Where the rocks were cleft apart, 
 And the waters ceased their howling, 
 
 'Mid the shadows dense and dark — 
 Came a wavelet, dashing, dancing, 
 
 Toying softly with the spray; 
 All the while, in sweetest measures, 
 
 Singing of a land away. 
 
 Eaglet listened to her music 
 
 As she dallied 'neath the cliff, 
 Till he caught her whispered meaning — 
 
 Whispered from a foaming drift; 
 Caught the song she sang so sweetly — 
 
 In her bright and sportive glee — 
 Of the hardships of a voyage 
 
 O'er the drear and joyless sea. 
 
20 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Gazed he o'er the waste of waters 
 
 As they boiled, and foamed, and seethed; 
 Yet he thought of naught but Freedom, 
 
 As a voiceless prayer he breathed. 
 One last look o'er England's grandeur — 
 
 One last sigh for " Home, Sweet Home " — 
 And the fearless, daring nestling 
 
 Shook his plumage and w T as gone. 
 
 From the topmost cliff uprising, 
 
 Where it jutted o'er the foam, 
 Came that brave *md dauntless birdling, 
 
 Seeking for a Peerless home; 
 Came he sailing bravely onward, 
 
 Swiftly cleaving with his wings 
 Through the endless depths of ether, 
 
 Like a more than human thing. 
 
 Far beneath him rolled the billows, 
 
 Sending up a sullen roar; 
 Far above, the hosts of Heaven 
 
 And the unseen, mystic shore! 
 Now the reefs went out beneath him — 
 
 Now an island came in sight — 
 But its beauties, glowing, gorgeous, 
 
 Gave to him no sweet delight. 
 
 Though its groves were filled with songsters, 
 
 And its forests teemed with fruit, 
 And the grass so green and sparkling, 
 
 Sang its praises, sweet though mute; 
 All the light, and love, and beauty, 
 
 That he saw upon his way, 
 Quenched not Eaglet's wistful longing 
 
 For a home away, away! 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 21 
 
 So lie cleft the azure, hoping 
 
 That his strength would bear him o'er; 
 For he knew that in the distance 
 
 He should find a friendly shore. 
 Wavelet whispered such a story 
 
 As she sported 'neath the crest — 
 So he hoped, but hope grew weary, 
 
 And he longed to be at rest! 
 
 Weak and faint, from sheer exhaustion — 
 
 Yet no land to greet his eye; 
 Ever westward, ever onward, 
 
 Still he flitted through the sky. 
 Ever wistful, ever watchful, 
 
 Gazed he toward the setting sun — 
 While the Ocean seethed beneath him 
 
 As he labored on, alone. 
 
 Ah ! his eye lights up one moment 
 
 And his hopes seem all ablaze ; 
 For, away in boundless distance 
 
 Sees he now a line of haze: 
 Surely, land is just before him — 
 
 Soon his heart will be at rest — 
 For this filmy haze grows darker 
 
 As it rises from the West. 
 
 Onward presses he a moment, 
 
 With a wild and blessed hope, 
 And his gaze fixed long and eager 
 
 O'er the broad and boundless scope: 
 Just one moment — eager, joyous, 
 
 As it looms up dark and grim — 
 Then a deep and savage mutter, 
 
 And his wistful sight grows dim. 
 
22 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Close upon him came the tempest 
 
 Till it seemed to gird him round; 
 And the lightning shot its terrors 
 
 'Mid an angry, crashing sound! 
 Then the wind came rushing onward, 
 
 Wrestling fiercely for his life — 
 And the storm -king, in its fury 
 
 Seemed with angry demons rife! 
 
 Loudly belched the booming thunder, 
 
 And the darkness seemed to pierce 
 With its venomed tongues of fire 
 
 Through his vitals, sharp and fierce! 
 And the darting, dancing demons 
 
 That in blinding belches came, 
 Seemed to fasten names of fury 
 
 On his poor, exhausted frame. 
 
 Bat he bravely bore the blindness, 
 
 As the weird wind whistled by; 
 Though its belches beat him backward, 
 
 He was doomed to do or die! 
 Crash on crash came o'er his hearing — 
 
 Peal on peal, yet still he breathed; 
 While, beneath him, angry billows 
 
 With their seething foam were wreathed, 
 
 Then it passed him ; in its fury 
 
 Lashing surge- mountain high — 
 And it left him almost sinking, 
 
 As it vaulted, howling, by: 
 Then he listened to its mutter 
 
 As it madly tore away 
 O'er the trackless waste of waters — 
 
 Shutting out the smiling day. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 23 
 
 Far beyond him boomed the thunder, 
 
 And the flashes fainter grew 
 Till they died away in distance, 
 
 Throwing back a rainbow hue: 
 Worn and bruised, with drooping pinions, 
 
 And his heart with anguish bowed — 
 What can save him from the billows? 
 
 What can save our birdling now? 
 
 Ah! he falters — wavers — trembles — 
 
 From exhaustion weak and faint; 
 Nerves and sinews snap and quiver, 
 
 Yet he utters no complaint! 
 Looks he down upon the billows, 
 
 Seething, roaring madly by, 
 Mounting up as if to catch him 
 
 In his flight along the sky. 
 
 Oh, how blissful seemed that homestead 
 
 He had left with hopes so high; 
 Hopes that led him on to madness — 
 
 Led him on to do or die! 
 Just below him seethed the billows, 
 
 Waiting for his strength to fail; 
 He must struggle — naught but Ocean 
 
 Near, to catch his dying wail! 
 
 Thoughts went rushing, ranting backward — 
 
 Blissful thoughts of " Home, Sweet Home," 
 Of the dear and tranquil resting 
 
 Ere this burning thought had come: 
 Dear old home ! How well he prized it 
 
 Now 'twas lost forevermore — 
 For his strength was fast departing, 
 
 And his eyes were blurring o'er! 
 
24 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Ah! he settles — downward, downward 1 
 
 Surely life is almost spent; 
 Yet away in endless distance 
 
 Still his anguished gaze is bent. 
 Angry billows almost grasp him, 
 
 And he feels the eager spray 
 As it dashes up in triumph, 
 
 Clutching for its welcome prey. 
 
 Almost sank he 'neath the waters, 
 
 And he gave himself to die! 
 For he saw no land uprising 
 
 In his glance along the sky : 
 But the billows' mocking mutter, 
 
 And the white-caps' eager moan, 
 Gave him strength to battle faintly 
 
 For his life, and for a home. 
 
 Onward still, a little longer, 
 
 And he drooped his failing eye; 
 Though he thought of turning homeward, 
 
 It would only be to die. 
 For the endless track of Ocean 
 
 Only mocked him, in his woe, 
 And he knew 'twould shortly claim him 
 
 In its revels down below! 
 
 One more trial — one exertion — 
 
 One more westward look, and then — 
 If the waste of waters mocked him, 
 
 He would never look again ! 
 Quick he strained his vision westward — 
 
 One swift glance, with filmy eye; 
 One great throb of joy and gladness 
 
 And he shot along the sky ! 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 25 
 
 In the distance saw he something — 
 
 Land had risen on his view! 
 All his weariness forgotten, 
 
 All his sinews strung anew. 
 Eagerly he cleft the ether, 
 
 With his gaze fixed on the land, 
 For he saw the rocks uprising, 
 
 And beheld the shining strand! 
 
 In the battle he had conquered, 
 
 For the sight of land ahead 
 Sent his life-blood coursing swiftly, 
 
 Though his hope had almost lied; 
 And the mocking, mirthful laughter 
 
 Of the foaming, boiling deep, 
 Roused him up to mighty action 
 
 From his almost deathly sleep. 
 
 Far and wide, in endless distance 
 
 Stretched the land he saw ahead; 
 As he strained his eyes, now sparkling, 
 
 That so late were almost dead! 
 Shot new vigor through his muscles 
 
 At that glad and welcome view, 
 And the life-blood, erst so dormant 
 
 Coursed along his veins anew! 
 
 Ocean roared, and foamed, and muttered! 
 
 Mad that she had lost her prey! 
 Mountain waves tossed up their waters, 
 
 White-caps dashed aloft their spray; 
 But it mattered not to Eaglet, 
 
 For he neared a place of rest; 
 And no more he sighed for Britain 
 
 Or his home upon the crest! 
 
26 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Nearer came he, glad and joyful 
 
 As he proudly viewed the land, 
 For its acres seemed as countless 
 
 As the sparkling grains of sand; 
 And its forests, filled with beauty 
 
 Seemed to nod him welcome home 
 As they saw him proudly sailing 
 
 O'er the billows' angry foam ! 
 
 Here before him, broad and fruitful, 
 
 Spread a land by Heaven blessed ! 
 And he gazed in triumph o'er it 
 
 Ere he settled down to rest. 
 Gently folded he his pinions — 
 
 Birdling of fair Freedom's stock! 
 And, with Liberty his watchword 
 
 Lighted down on Plymouth Kock! 
 
 Here was rest. ~No more exertion 
 
 For his weary, throbbing limbs; 
 No more wistful, anxious yearning 
 
 For the cliff, so dark and grim. 
 Here was wild, uncultured nature, 
 
 Luscious fruitage, rich and rare, 
 Only waiting to be garnered 
 
 With a little watchful care. 
 
 O'er the land in wonder gazed he 
 
 As he rested from his toil; 
 For it seemed to him as boundless 
 
 As his own forsaken soil. 
 Then he thought of all his labors 
 
 In his flight across the sea, 
 And how near he came to perish 
 
 In his search for Liberty. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 27 
 
 From the forest, as he listened 
 
 Came the song of many birds, 
 And they seemed to greet his coming 
 
 With a burst of kindly words. 
 Little recked they, as he fiercely 
 
 Grazed upon them in their flight, 
 Of the peril they were courting, 
 
 Which would grasp them ere the night. 
 
 Soft and mellow came the sunlight 
 
 O'er the dimness far away, 
 Greeting, with a tender welcome 
 
 Firstling of a glorious sway; 
 Came the dreamy rays of sunset 
 
 Shim'ring o'er the forest's gloam, 
 Glinting earth with gold and purple 
 
 For a royal "welcome home!" 
 
 Out upon the toppling billows 
 
 Flashed the sunset glories down, 
 Molding countless pearly jewels 
 
 From the spray they dashed around; 
 And the clouds in gauzy fleeces 
 
 Sailing softly overhead. 
 Lingered like a maze of beauty — 
 
 Pink, and gold, and silver edged. 
 
 Longer grew the somber shadows, 
 
 Shooting out o'er Ocean's surf, 
 Forming spectres in the woodland, 
 
 Glancing down upon the earth. 
 Eaglet proudly raised his pinions 
 
 And the breeze a moment fanned, 
 Rose aloft in blissful triump'h 
 
 In his first flight o'er the land. 
 
28 THE KING OF THE AIE. 
 
 Darker, denser grew the shadows, 
 
 And the foam upon the sea 
 Looked like spectres in the distance, 
 
 Dancing in their revelry. 
 And the songsters in the woodland 
 
 Only sang in plaintive tones; 
 And the breeze soughed through the forest 
 
 Filled with harsh and dismal moans! 
 
 Twilight slowly crept o'er Ocean, 
 
 And the stars came, one by one; 
 First with dim and hazy twinkling, 
 
 Then like sparkling gems they shone. 
 And they kissed the dancing crystals 
 
 That the waves tossed up on high, 
 And, when mirrored back by pearl drops 
 
 Shone like jewels in the sky! 
 
 All was peaceful save the Ocean 
 
 With its tumbling, plunging waves, 
 Which kept up a ceaseless thunder 
 
 As they boiled, and foamed, and raved; 
 And the breaking of the billows 
 
 As they dashed against the beach, 
 Kept a harsh and dismal clatter 
 
 That far inland seemed to reach. 
 
 Ere the twilight ceased its gleaming 
 
 Came our darling birdling home; 
 And the night seemed strange and weirdlike 
 
 As he rested there alone 
 Near the music of the waters, 
 
 Which so late had seemed a curse, 
 When he thought his weary life-strings 
 
 With their agony would burst. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 29 
 
 Leaflets quivered as he settled 
 
 On a forest monarch near, 
 Where the rock which first received him 
 
 Gave him mute, yet welcome cheer. 
 And the natives in the branches, 
 
 Mutely settled for the night, 
 Fluttered out from cover, trembling 
 
 In their terror and affright. 
 
 Sweetly slept he till the morning, 
 
 Dreaming he was home again ; 
 For the billows' ceaseless rumbling 
 
 Made sweet music for him then. 
 JBut he missed the tender pressure 
 
 Of the softly feathered breast 
 Which had guarded him so gently, 
 
 In that well remembered nest. 
 
 Then the waking at the dawning, 
 
 When his senses cleared away, 
 Brought remembrance of the anguish 
 
 He had borne from day to day; 
 And his thoughts went teeming backward 
 
 Till he followed all his flight; 
 Felt again the fearful anguish, 
 
 And the dimming, blurring sight! 
 
 But he shook his rumpled plumage 
 
 With an eager, anxious heart, 
 As he watched the coming dawning. 
 
 For the night was long and dark. 
 And the dreary waste before him 
 
 With the shadows o'er its breast — 
 Seemed to close up darkly round him 
 
 As if jealous of his rest. 
 
30 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Slowly o'er the dreary Ocean 
 
 Came the gray of early dawn; 
 Then the streaks of faintest crimson, 
 
 That betokened balmy morn: 
 Next, the rosy Hush far eastward, 
 
 Crimsoning the pearly foam, 
 Then the soft and liquid silver 
 
 Flashing o'er the toppling comb. 
 
 From the forest just beside him 
 
 Came the faintest breath of song, 
 From the host of waking warblers 
 
 Giving greetings to the morn. 
 Then it swelled, a mighty chorus, 
 
 And the woods seemed full of life, 
 With the loudly braying trumpet 
 
 And the shrill and timid fife. 
 
 Now the Ocean changed her raiment, 
 
 Casting off her crimson robe, 
 Dropping down her belt of silver 
 
 To the mermaid's rich abode; 
 And her graceful, pearly chaplet 
 
 She disdained to longer wear, 
 Donning now her royal vestments, 
 
 Golden hued, with jewels rare. 
 
 Then from out the midst of waters 
 
 Forth her golden chaplet came; 
 Hosts of sapphires trembling o'er it, 
 
 Gems and jewels without name. 
 Rich, and rare, and massive opals 
 
 Glinted from a thousand ways, 
 While the sheen of countless diamonds 
 
 Glimmered forth their lustrous ravs. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 31 
 
 O'er the forest came the gleaming 
 
 Of old Ocean's peerless crown, 
 And the golden rays grew brilliant 
 
 Over all the land around. 
 And the earth was clothed in beauty, 
 
 As it left the dancing crest — 
 Yet it lingered long and fondly 
 
 On the Ocean's pearly breast. 
 
 Every leaf had caught a jewel 
 
 From the spray that dashed the beach, 
 And the sunbeams glinting o'er them 
 
 Made a golden globe of each ; 
 And the dew-drops on the grasses 
 
 Hung in pendant crystal gems, 
 As they quivered from the motion 
 
 Of the gently swaying stems. 
 
 Eaglet gazed like one enchanted 
 
 O'er this bright and lovely scene — 
 With its dense and sweeping forests, 
 
 And its mossy beds of green; 
 And the weird and witching music 
 
 Which from hosts of warblers came, 
 Seemed to echo through the mazes 
 
 Of the endless forest chain. 
 
 But his heart was filled with yearning 
 
 For a view along the coast, 
 Yet he needed rest and quiet 
 
 Ere he ventured from his post; 
 So he sallied o'er the forest 
 
 In his search for something rare, 
 And he found that farther inland 
 
 It was just as bright and fair. 
 
32 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Then he plumed his pinions softly 
 
 As he lingered on the coast, 
 And he listened to the wavelets 
 
 As they gathered round him close; 
 And he sought the one that sent him 
 
 On his journey o'er the sea, 
 Where she said a home was waiting 
 
 For the brave, and true, and free. 
 
 Days passed on, and native Eagles 
 
 Strove to catch him in their toils — 
 Sought to drive him from his treasures; 
 
 From the broad and boundless soil. 
 But our birdling, firm and dauntless, 
 
 Gave no ground when once attained; 
 And he plumed his rumpled pinions 
 
 As his answer boldly came. 
 
 One bright morn, new strength imparted, 
 
 And his vigor all renewed, 
 Eaglet scanned the scenes around him 
 
 With a voiceless pain subdued. 
 Gazed he o'er the forest's grandeur, 
 
 O'er the fair and mossy land; 
 Listened sadly to the chorus 
 
 Of the darling feathered band. 
 
 O'er the Ocean ran his vision — 
 
 Deepest thunder met his ears — 
 And the foam it dashed so madly 
 
 Seemed to melt in briny tears; 
 And the grandeur of its music 
 
 Sent a homeless, voiceless dread! 
 He had learned to love it dearly 
 
 In the days so quickly fled. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIE. 33 
 
 Down the coast it still would greet him, 
 
 Yet this one dear spot he loved — 
 For it gave him blessed welcome 
 
 When all hope had failed, above. 
 And the billows, bright with sunbeams, 
 
 Thought he demons, then, to be; 
 Now, they seemed as sweet companions 
 
 In his flight across the sea. 
 
 Now, the tossing of the white-caps 
 
 Looked to him like fairy sport; 
 And the billows, rolling fiercely 
 
 Seemed their soft embrace to court; 
 And the splashing of the waters 
 
 On the brightly sanded beach, 
 Scattered up a thousand jewels, 
 
 With a rainbow spanning each. 
 
 Oh, he loved their mystic music 
 
 As they seethed around the shore, 
 And the grand old mountain billows 
 
 Tumbled proudly o'er and o'er; 
 And the curling, foaming eddies 
 
 That went spinning wildly round, 
 Gave a joyous, purling tinkle, 
 
 Just a faint, enchanting sound. 
 
 But he gathered up his musings 
 
 With a sad and troubled heart, 
 For his duty led him onward — 
 
 With their music he must part; 
 And the grandeur he had worshiped 
 
 In his new and lovely home, 
 Soon, alas, nmst be deserted; 
 
 He must sally forth alone! 
 3 
 
34 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Down the coast his vision trembled, 
 
 Till it blended with the sky; 
 And he knew that in those mazes 
 
 He must wander by and by. 
 Yet he hoped his new adventure 
 
 Might be blest for Freedom's sake — 
 That this broad and princely country 
 
 Might a home for millions make. 
 
 But he gave a last look round him, 
 
 And aloft his form uprose, 
 With his senses all awakened 
 
 From his calm and sweet repose; 
 And he cleft the ether firmly 
 
 In his proud and lofty flight, 
 And the scenes that passed beneath him, 
 
 Gave to him a grand delight. 
 
 Hills and valleys ^met his vision — 
 
 Rivers plunged along their way, 
 And the thickly wooded country 
 
 Gave his fancy brightest play. 
 Now a hill in hoary baldness 
 
 Came up boldly to his view; 
 Now a valley dark with verdure, 
 
 With a brooklet rippling through. 
 
 Then the coast, rock-ribbed and rugged, 
 
 Thick with crags, and shelving o'er, 
 With its jagged sides all time-worn 
 
 From the dash, and rush, and roar; 
 Then the plain, with grass embedded — 
 
 Then the lovely, quiet dell — 
 With the tinkling, purling music 
 
 Of the waters, as they fell. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIE. 35 
 
 Up the rivers pressed our birdling, 
 
 O'er their broad and sweeping breasts — 
 Now their banks all dark with timber, 
 
 Now all rough, with vacant crests. 
 Now the dash of rushing waters 
 
 Met his ear with dismal roar, ' 
 Echoed forth with grandest tumult, 
 
 Rumbling out from shore to shore. 
 
 Oh, he found a priceless treasure 
 
 When he gained this fairy land; 
 When he lighted, all exhausted, 
 
 On the rock-ribbed, hoary strand; 
 For it crept away in distance 
 
 Where the denser shadows lie, 
 And the clouds and verdure blended 
 
 Till they kissed the arching sky. 
 
 Years passed on, and still he wandered, 
 
 Beckoned on by beauties rare, 
 For this witching life of wildness 
 
 Seemed to him most wondrous fair; 
 And the red men of the forest, 
 
 And the darling, dove-eyed deer, 
 And the birds, with witching music 
 
 Gave to him most welcome cheer. 
 
 Oft he saw the shadows lengthen 
 
 As they lengthened long ago, 
 And he listened to the billows 
 
 In their ceaseless ebb and flow. 
 And he heard the happy songsters 
 
 As they twittered out their joy, 
 But they brought him not that sweetness 
 
 Which had seemed without alloy. 
 
36 THE KING OF THE AIE. 
 
 Years had brought him nothing better 
 
 Than this wild and roving lite, 
 With its rich and varied beauties, 
 
 And with countless blessings rite. 
 But he longed for braver action — 
 
 Something bolder yet than this — 
 Something which would, in the future. 
 
 Stir his soul with deepest bliss. 
 
 Stronger grew his inward yearning 
 
 As he hovered o'er the land, 
 Where the songbirds' ceaseless twitter 
 
 Met his ear on every hand. 
 And the blossoms mid the grasses 
 
 Raised their soft and dewy eyes, 
 As they smiled their happy greetings 
 
 To the cloudlets in the skies. 
 
 But at length a thought came o'er him — 
 
 He must see his home again ; 
 Not the one across the ocean — 
 
 That was nothing to him then; 
 But the one where first he landed, 
 
 Weak, and faint, and sick, and sore, 
 Which to him would e'er be sacred, 
 
 Though he saw it never more. 
 
 Up the coast, once more returning, 
 
 Where the land received him first, 
 Little recking, little dreaming 
 
 Of the sight that o'er him burst. 
 Thronging mem'ries spanned the distance, 
 
 Anxious hopes his heart assailed ; 
 But a scene now met his vision, 
 
 Which his soul with rapture nailed. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 37 
 
 There, upon his own loved bowlder 
 
 Sat a maiden young and fair — 
 And the sunlight on the ocean, 
 
 Was not brighter than her hair; 
 And she gazed across the waters 
 
 With a sad and somber smile, 
 As she sang a rippling sonnet 
 
 In a sweet and plaintive style. 
 
 Eaglet looked from her to Ocean, 
 
 And his senses seemed to fail; 
 Out upon the foam-capped billows 
 
 Lay a fleet just setting sail. 
 Then, while looking for the voices 
 
 Up along the sandy beach, 
 Saw he scores of human beings 
 
 Sadly gazing toward the fleet. 
 
 Thus he knew some swift winged angel 
 
 Must have carried back the word, 
 That a home of peace and Freedom 
 
 Had been gained by Freedom' 's bird! 
 And his heart was wild with triumph 
 
 As he sallied o'er their homes, 
 For he saw their fleet fast sailing 
 
 O'er the billows' toppling combs. 
 
 Now the place was all invaded 
 
 Where at first he lighted down, 
 And the birds that sang him welcome, 
 
 Only gave a saddened sound; 
 Thus the coming of the pilgrims, 
 
 With their weary days of toil, 
 Gave a wider scope of vision 
 
 O'er the rich and spreading soil. 
 
38 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Eaglet seemed like one enchanted 
 
 With the work so well begun, 
 For he saw that, in the future, 
 
 This would reach from sun to sun! 
 And he knew that bold and fearless 
 
 Would this band of pilgrims be — 
 They had proved it by their coming 
 
 O'er the dark and stormy sea. 
 
 O'er the coast he flew exultant, 
 
 As he saw their huts appear; 
 For this wealth of witching wildness 
 
 Seemed to Eaglet wondrous dear; 
 But he peered amid the shadows 
 
 'Neath the woodland's mystic shade, 
 Lest the foe from out its mazes 
 
 Crept adown the sylvan glade. 
 
 He had seen their noiseless creeping 
 
 In the forest's tangled depths, 
 When the game was all unmindful 
 
 Of their stealthy, muffled steps; 
 Noiselessly they crept upon them, 
 
 Parting leaf, and bough, and branch, 
 And the arrow's deadly piercing 
 
 Warned them first of their advance. 
 
 Close beside him, as he listened, 
 
 Came a tinkling, rippling wail, 
 And he saw 'twas just the water 
 
 From a tiny inland swail, 
 Which kept dripping, tinkling, singing, 
 
 As it slowly went its way, 
 Creeping, drop by drop, toward Ocean, 
 
 Yet so happy and so gay. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIE. 39 
 
 Thus might Freedom, while so feeble, 
 
 Only gather drop by drop, 
 But its long and toilsome journey 
 
 Must in something grander stop. 
 As the swail at last reached Ocean, 
 
 By its dripping, dripping on, 
 In the dim and distant future 
 
 Freedom's Ocean might be won. 
 
 But there came a time of terror 
 
 To those brave and daring souls, 
 For the stealthy steps of red men 
 
 Through the forest mazes stole. 
 Yet so silent were their footfalls 
 
 As they crept upon their foes, 
 That no sound had given warning 
 
 Till their hideous war cry rose. 
 
 Then came deeds of blackest horror, 
 
 As they rushed to combat fierce, 
 With the dead and wounded heroes 
 
 Deep with balls and arrows pierced! 
 And the burning, blazing buildings, 
 
 As they flashed their red arms out, 
 Seemed exulting with the savage 
 
 In his wild and liendish shout. 
 
 Eaglet's heart was soft and tender, 
 
 And he sighed for fallen hopes; 
 For, before the white man's coming, 
 
 Red men roamed this boundless scope, 
 Monarchs of this land of plenty, 
 
 Free as air, they roamed at will — 
 Now, their hunting-grounds invaded, 
 
 Driven back from hill to hill. 
 
40 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Dear old scenes that once were sacred — 
 
 Scenes their mem'ries held most dear — 
 All were gone, and paltry trinkets 
 
 Only gave them passing cheer. 
 Dearly bought, those worthless baubles, 
 
 For their hunting grounds" were gone; 
 All their happy joys departed — 
 
 Hushed their loud and fearless song. 
 
 Forest birds had piped their greetings 
 
 Every morning, at the dawn, 
 And the squirrels in the tree-tops, 
 
 Danced and chattered all day long. 
 And the tiny, dove-eyed blossoms 
 
 That the leaves could not conceal, 
 Lifted up their tender petals, 
 
 With a mute, but glad appeal. 
 
 Now the songbirds only mocked them, 
 
 Though they still sang just the same, 
 And the ranting, romping squirrels, 
 
 Chattered wildly, all in vain ; 
 And the dainty, pink-hued beauties 
 
 That looked up from 'neath their feet, 
 Only gave them thirst for vengeance, 
 
 By their glance, so pure and sweet. 
 
 Now they peered out in the thickets, 
 
 Glancing round with great unrest, 
 As in light canoes they darted 
 
 Down the river's turbid breast; 
 For a foe might now be lurking 
 
 On the thickly wooded bank — 
 So each dip was slow and muffled, 
 
 And their voices softly sank. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 41 
 
 Broad and placid flowed the rivers 
 
 As they rambled toward the surf. 
 Glancing in beneath the ledges, 
 
 Washing out the clinging turf, 
 Snatching leaflets from the tree tops 
 
 Bending down from broken crags, 
 Wavelets twirling, twisting, tumbling, 
 
 Hoisting leaflets up for flags. 
 
 Bowlders broad and high, and hoary 
 
 Lay in sullen, somber mood, 
 Flirting back the sunbeams drifting 
 
 Through the overhanging wood; 
 And the wavelets kissed the mosses 
 
 That crept down the humid mould, 
 Where the dark and rock-ribbed mountains 
 
 Stretched up high, and grand, and bold. 
 
 Years passed on, and every nation 
 
 Sent its influx o'er the soil, 
 And the red man's wealth of country 
 
 Went to serve the white man's toil; 
 And the sound of busy workmen 
 
 Echoed through the forest aisles, 
 As they felled the giant heroes 
 
 In the deeply tangled wilds. 
 
 But at length a sad disaster 
 
 Came to sicken hearts of steel; 
 For the foe attacked their hamlets 
 
 With a fierce and deadly zeal. 
 Secretly their plans were nurtured — 
 
 Treacherous their vows of peace. 
 For they came, all unsuspected, 
 
 When all thoughts of war had ceased. 
 
12 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Towns were sacked, and homesteads rifled 
 
 By the natives, in their hate, 
 For the j seemed like savage demons, 
 
 Bringing on such fearful fate. 
 Thirsting for the blood of victims, 
 
 Pushed they on the work of death, 
 Till along the whole great border 
 
 There was found no place of rest. 
 
 All the settlers felt their vengeance* 
 
 For the fiends pressed quickly on, 
 And the smoke that curled so wildly, 
 
 Told which way the foe had gone ! 
 And the flames that shot so brightly, 
 
 Showed their savage, painted forms, 
 As they danced around the embers 
 
 That were darkened ere the morn ! 
 
 Women, frail, and fair, and shrinking — 
 
 Tender children, sweet eyed babes ; 
 All the pets of manhood's household, 
 
 Dragged they to their early graves ! 
 Yet our men were strong to suffer, 
 
 And they bravely fought them down; 
 Though their foes were lurking demons, 
 
 Yet they fell by scores around. 
 
 Charged they fiercely to the battle, 
 
 And the contest wildly raged, 
 Till the Indian hosts were routed, 
 
 Though they deadly warfare waged; 
 But they fled before the valor 
 
 Of our brave and gallant men, 
 For they fought for rifled homesteads 
 
 That might never bloom again. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIE. 43 
 
 So they followed up their foemen 
 
 To their guarded fort away, 
 Deep embedded in the forest 
 
 Where the shadows thickest lay; 
 In a wild and tangled jungle 
 
 All impaled for close defense, 
 Stood their rude and warlike fortress, 
 
 Yet they drove their forces hence. 
 
 Eaglet watched with eyes of pity 
 
 O'er the young and growing States, 
 For he saw that discords ripened 
 
 Into strange and fitful shapes; 
 When the Indian feuds were settled 
 
 Discontent crept through their ranks; 
 And a jealous, angry portion 
 
 Back within the forest shrank. 
 
 So for years and years he saw it 
 
 As he journeyed up and down, 
 Pushing back along the borders, 
 
 O'er their new and thriving towns: 
 Eaglet prized the witching scenery 
 
 Ere the forest monarchs fell, 
 And the birds were driven backward 
 
 With the songs he loved so well. 
 
 Oh, he dearly loved the woodland, 
 
 With its purling, singing streams, 
 And the sunlight rippling o'er them 
 
 With its weird and fitful gleams, 
 As it peered amid the leaflets 
 
 For a glance at wavelets crest 
 
 Making bright the fitful shadows 
 
 In their wild and weird unrest. 
 
44 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 And the green and mossy carpets 
 
 In the darkly shaded dells, 
 Where no snnlight ever rested 
 
 On the damp and pearly shells; 
 And the tender, meek-eyed mosses 
 
 That would droop 'neath sunlight's kiss 
 As they closed their tender petals 
 
 In their new and blinding bliss. 
 
 And he loved the gentle music 
 
 Of the breeze that fanned the twigs, 
 Causing hosts of. joyous whispers 
 
 From the leaves in merry jigs; 
 Loved to watch them twirling, spinning, 
 
 At they broke from tender boughs, 
 From the passionate embraces 
 
 Of the breeze, with fitful vows. 
 
 In the deep and dark recesses 
 
 Where the tangled thickets grew, 
 And the marshes with their vapors 
 
 Rising up with grayish hue; 
 Where the frogs with ceaseless piping 
 
 Sent out croakings all day long, 
 Eaglet loved to light and listen 
 
 To the forests witching song. 
 
 So his life went on untroubled, 
 
 Save by constant growing feuds 
 That were rife among the people, 
 
 And which time had not subdued ; 
 For the mixed and mingled nations 
 
 Wanted each to bear the sway — 
 And at last their quarrels ended 
 
 In a sad and mournful day. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIE. 45 
 
 Dark oppressions from the British 
 
 With their royal notions filled, 
 Gathered o'er this infant country, 
 
 Prone to guide it as they Mailed. 
 But the people loved their Freedom, • 
 
 And the British sadly found 
 That a monarch's harsh oppression 
 
 Could not curse their noble ground. 
 
 Washington, our country's hero — 
 
 Grand and noble, firm and true, 
 With his courage, strength and valor 
 
 Carried safe our country through. 
 At the dark defeat of Braddock, 
 
 Long before fair Freedom's strife, 
 He alone, amid the carnage, 
 
 Seemed to bear a guarded life. 
 
 Up and down amid the firing, 
 
 After half the troops had fled — 
 Nearly all the leaders wounded, 
 
 Braddock numbered with the dead; 
 On his charger proudly seated, 
 
 Dashed he 'neath the deadly fire, 
 And, though fast they fell beside him, 
 
 Still unhurt remained our sire. 
 
 Near this time another battle 
 
 'Twixt the French and British raged; 
 Others followed, till the British 
 
 Almost ceaseless warfare waged; 
 Then a lull, and Eaglet, sickened 
 
 By the horrid sights he saw, 
 Fled away to distant borders 
 
 With his heart benumbed with awe. 
 
CANTO II. 
 
 THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR. 
 
 Here again for years he lingered, 
 
 All his senses sweetly fed 
 By the luscious wealth of nature 
 
 Fostered on her mossy bed; 
 Sights and sounds were all so lovely 
 
 In their mystic, mazy home, 
 That he asked for nothing grander 
 
 Than amid those wilds to roam. 
 
 Valleys guarded from the tempest 
 
 By their sentinels so grand, 
 Seemed to court his princely favor 
 
 For their richly treasured land ; 
 And the becks that bubbled through them 
 
 Rich with tiny flecks of foam, 
 Sent up kisses without number 
 
 For a welcome to their home. 
 
 Now came rippling o'er the country 
 
 Sounds that made him blanch with fear; 
 And the beck that bubbled 'neath him 
 
 Threw him up a pearly tear; 
 And her song was turned to mourning, 
 
 For her king would speed away, 
 And in distant countries linger 
 
 Through the long and dreary day. 
 (46) 
 
THE KING OF THE AIE. 47 
 
 Tree tops shivered as they heard it — 
 
 Blossoms bowed their heads in awe — 
 Mosses crept to earth more closely. 
 
 As the Eagle's dread they saw: 
 Now the sound came shiv'ring, shaking 
 
 Through the mountain gorges near, 
 Then, through valleys muttered, rumbled, 
 
 Falling sadly on the ear. 
 
 Birdlings stopped their songs to listen, 
 
 While the wind in sullen soughs 
 Swept around the shelving summits 
 
 Of the mountains dark and rough. 
 Nature seemed all sad and gloomy, 
 
 As so harshly came the sound, 
 For the shots from scores of muskets 
 
 Seemed to scatter o'er the ground. 
 
 Then the booming of the cannon 
 
 Roared and trembled through the gorge, 
 And the shrieks of dying heroes 
 
 Firmer Eagle's fury forged; 
 And he poised his pinions proudly, 
 
 Fiercely shook his plumage out, 
 And he cleft the azure sharply 
 
 As he echoed back the shout! 
 
 Mosses raised their eyes despairing — 
 
 Birdlings sang in plaintive strains — 
 Flow'rets poised their cups in sadness — 
 
 He would ne'er come back again. 
 And the beck, with bosom heaving, 
 
 Shut the sunlight from her face, 
 As she bubbled down the valley 
 
 'Neath the boughs all interlaced. 
 
48 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Eagle found new source of sorrow 
 
 As he swiftly sped away, 
 For he saw the hamlets 'neath him 
 
 Guarded round by night and day. 
 And he knew that war was brewing 
 
 For a long and bloody siege; 
 For he found the patriots training 
 
 In their sadly urgent needs. 
 
 But the battle which had roused him 
 
 From his rest in sylvan lands, 
 Was the first of bloody horrors 
 
 That should free our gallant bands; 
 Lexington first heard the booming- — 
 
 Concord next received attack, 
 But the British marched in terror 
 
 As they hurried swiftly back. 
 
 Like the wing of Fate spread o'er them 
 
 Followed vengeance on their track, 
 For those blunt and sturdy heroes 
 
 In their courage did not lack. 
 Out from mound, and tree, and thicket, 
 
 Came the flash, and crack, and roar; 
 Then a dash to gain a shelter, 
 
 Then the scene enacted o'er. 
 
 That first shot aroused the country, 
 
 And from field and shop they came; 
 Brave, determined, stalwart heroes — 
 
 Heroes who have blessed the name. 
 They had shown their matchless bravery 
 
 At their raid in Boston Bay, 
 Where, disguised as Mohawk Indians, 
 
 They had flung the tea away. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 49 
 
 News from Lexington and Concord 
 
 Quickly down the borders went, 
 And the people, deeply injured, 
 
 Seemed on fighting most intent; 
 They had seen their lands invaded, 
 
 And their Freedom was at stake; 
 So they made their preparations, 
 
 All their vigilance awake. 
 
 Ethan Allen, brave and noble, 
 
 In the meantime took the field, 
 And, with Arnold, bold and fearless, 
 
 Made two noble stations yield. 
 First Ticonderoga yielded — , 
 
 This they found an easy prey; 
 Still undaunted, pressed they closely, 
 
 And at Crown Point won the day. 
 
 Generals Howe, Burgoyne and Clinton 
 
 Came, with new troops, o'er the sea, 
 But their plans, though formed in secret, 
 
 Seemed on swiftest wings to flee. 
 Deepest threats were all unheeded, 
 
 Plots were thwarted, vengeance baulked; 
 And their stern, unflinching foemen, 
 
 At their boasting only mocked. 
 
 Eagle watched with throbbing pulses, 
 
 While he thought their plots complete, 
 But his heart with joy exulted, 
 
 As he saw their sure defeat. 
 And the gallant sons of Freedom, 
 
 Though their numbers were so small, 
 Seemed so brave, that Eagle wondered 
 
 If their hopes would ever fall. 
 4 
 
50 THE KING OF THE AIE. 
 
 Now the Bunker Hill intrenchment, 
 
 Boldly thrown up in the night 
 By a brave and gallant handfull, 
 
 Caught the jealous Britons' sight; 
 And from out their sullen war ships, 
 
 Lying in the river near, 
 Came the heavy boom of cannon, 
 
 Striking sharply on the ear. 
 
 Pealed it wildly through the timber 
 
 As it rumbled o'er the coast ; 
 And the balls and bombshells rattled, 
 
 Sent with Britons' fiercest boast. 
 But they kept a steady working, 
 
 As they listened to the roar, 
 And they saw the foe embarking, 
 
 Bringing scores of troops ashore. 
 
 Howe and Pigot, with their soldiers, 
 
 Charged to battle, grim and fierce, 
 While brave Prescott calmly waited 
 
 Till the balls could closer pierce. 
 Twice the foe, 'neath deadly aiming 
 
 And their lines all shot away, 
 Turned to fly — but Henry Clinton 
 
 Brought them back and gained the day. 
 
 While the battle raged so fiercely, 
 
 Lurid flames shot up on high, 
 And the light from burning Charlestown 
 
 Bathed in red the arching sky. 
 Pigot vented forth his hatred 
 
 As he fired this thriving town, 
 And the flames, all through the battle 
 
 Flashed their lurid light around. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 51 
 
 Eagle watched this dark destruction 
 
 With a heart benumbed with pain; 
 For he knew that all this toiling 
 
 Had been labor done in vain. 
 And his thoughts went out in hatred 
 
 Toward the author of this sin, 
 For the crackling of the buildings 
 
 Mingled with the horrid din. 
 
 Warren fell — so brave and fearless, 
 
 Leading on his stalwart men, 
 And the blow seemed doubly painful, 
 
 For the shot came from a friend. 
 Cool and dastardly the action, 
 
 For the aim was calmly drawn ; 
 And the soldiers wept the hero 
 
 From their ranks so early gone. 
 
 Eagle pined for becks and birdlings, 
 
 As the armies sank to rest, 
 For a lull had come between them 
 
 Since brave Warren met his death. 
 Washington, our loved commander, 
 
 Had at Cambridge just arrived, 
 But, for battles 'twixt the armies, 
 
 Gallant skirmishes sufficed. 
 
 While on Bunker Hill, the British 
 
 Had intrenched themselves so well, 
 Half a mile in front, our fortress 
 
 On their view undaunted fell ; 
 And the firing from the soldiers 
 
 Echoed back in gallant rounds, 
 As they bade their foes defiance 
 
 From their strongly guarded grounds. 
 
52 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Other portions, meanwhile, suffered, 
 
 For the war swept o'er the land; 
 On the sea, the royal cruisers 
 
 Made themselves a pirate band. 
 Thus, while roving, warring seamen 
 
 Chased our vessels, burned our towns, 
 On the land their needs were urgent, 
 
 For the foe pressed thickly round. 
 
 Now, at Hampton boomed the cannon, 
 
 For they tried to burn the town, 
 But they found the brave Yirginians 
 
 Boldly, firmly stood their ground ; 
 And the British ranks all broken, 
 
 Shrank away with fitful beat, 
 Scores of comrades dead and dying 
 
 In their sullen, sad retreat. 
 
 Soon, while Eagle watched so anxious, 
 
 Cannon boomed from o'er the sea; 
 And the lovely town of Norfolk 
 
 Next in order seemed to be. 
 Eagle knew Lord Dunmore's orders, 
 
 Given out with such a frown 
 As he sent on shore the sailors, 
 
 Were, to burn the hated town. 
 
 So, from out the fated buildings 
 
 Came bright puffs of lurid Same, 
 And the smoke grew thick above it — 
 
 Cries of horror from it came. 
 Flames went crackling through the timbers, 
 
 Smoke curled fiercer, farther out, 
 And our Eagle, list'ning seaward, 
 
 Heard Lord Dunmore's joyful shout. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 53 
 
 Thus it perished; and the Eagle 
 
 Saw its ashes blown about, 
 And he caught up Dunmore's fierceness 
 
 As he answered back the shout. 
 But no joy was in the answer, 
 
 For 'twas full of bitter hate; 
 And his mocking, taunting mutter 
 
 Forced to flee, no honor left him, 
 
 Dunmore safety sought with Howe, 
 While our men pushed on their conquests 
 
 Making pride to valor bow. 
 Fort St. John at last was conquered, 
 
 Chamblee fell before their sway, 
 Montreal was made a victim, 
 
 Carleton fain to quit the fray. 
 
 Toward Quebec, through fearful trials, 
 
 Marched our men, so strong and brave, 
 But the march was filled with horrors, 
 
 Deeper, darker than the grave. 
 Rapid streams, and oft recurring 
 
 Came before them, in their march; 
 Waterfalls which near engulfed them 
 
 Sent despair to stoutest hearts! 
 
 Endless woods, and dark morasses 
 
 Seemed their agony to mock, 
 And the plunging mountain torrents 
 
 Served their dearest hopes to baulk. 
 Worn ones turned from out those horrors 
 
 Fainting, from their cruel wants; 
 But the bolder, sterner portion 
 
 Braved again those demon haunts. 
 
54 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Hunger, with its fearful grappling 
 
 Pinched and clutched, till famished jaws, 
 Eager, fierce, ate dreaded reptiles, 
 
 In their zeal to serve the cause. 
 Oh ! the fearful, blinding tortures 
 
 Which their sinking souls rehearsed, 
 For at last their cartridge boxes 
 
 Went to deaden hunger's curse. 
 
 Bold Montgomery, noble, daring, 
 
 Who had longed to take the town, 
 In the midst of dismal winter 
 
 Drew his brave men closely round. 
 Just before Quebec he quartered, 
 
 Swung aloft a flag of truce, 
 But the soldiers fired upon it, 
 
 Adding insult to abuse. 
 
 So, with Arnold in one quarter 
 
 With a small but fearless troop, 
 And his own band in another 
 
 Charged they on with gallant swoop; 
 But the cannon pointed toward them, 
 
 Pouring out their deadly shot, 
 And Montgomery fell a victim 
 
 'Neath the firing, fierce and hot. 
 
 Thus our troops were shortly routed, 
 
 And they fell back, sick and sore; 
 For their ghastly, cold commander 
 
 In their ranks they sadly bore! 
 He had died, a martyred hero — 
 
 Bravely leading on his men; 
 And the wind in plaintive moanings 
 
 Sadly sang his requiem. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 55 
 
 Greatly thinned was now the army 
 
 Which was camped before the town; 
 Only just a feeble handful, 
 
 For disease had cut them down. 
 Ere the dreary winter ended 
 
 Arnold tried their works again, 
 But he found they stood the onset 
 
 With a treble force of men. 
 
 Eagle watched with deepest sorrow 
 
 O'er this band, once strong and brave, 
 For the hardships they endured 
 
 Brought them early to the grave; 
 Cold and bleak the wind swept o'er them, 
 
 Angry storms their barracks filled, 
 Till, through storms, disease and hunger, 
 
 Scores of noble hearts were stilled! 
 
 Oh, how tenderly he watched them, 
 
 As the snow Hakes piled around — 
 Sifting in upon their blankets 
 
 As they pressed the frozen ground; 
 And their forms, so thinly covered 
 
 Uttered now and then a moan, 
 While their ghastly, upturned faces 
 
 Seemed to plead for " Home, Sweet Home." 
 
 But at last came balmy breezes, 
 
 And the snow Hakes, pearly white, 
 Wept themselves away in dew drops, 
 
 Bringing fragrance to the night; 
 And the birds began their matins, 
 
 And the woods were full of song, 
 For the summer time was coming, 
 
 And the dreary winter gone. 
 
56 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 General Thomas came to lead them, 
 
 In the mystic month of May, 
 But he found them weak and feeble, 
 
 Struggling on from day to day. 
 Re-enforcements came to Carlton, 
 
 Who commanded at Quebec, 
 And he marched upon our forces — 
 
 Drove them back, a joyless wreck. 
 
 Deep disasters seemed to thicken 
 
 Round our brave, devoted band, 
 For the battle of the Cedars 
 
 Struck new terror through the land. 
 Then Burgoyne pursued our forces — 
 
 Checked the race so well begun — 
 Wrested Montreal from Arnold — 
 
 Siezed those forts so lately won. 
 
 Thus the Canada invasion 
 
 Proved a loss instead of gain, 
 For our men had died by hundreds, 
 
 And by hundreds had been slain; 
 And the British were receiving 
 
 Troops and stores from o'er the sea, 
 So it seemed but rash to combat, 
 
 Yet they loved their liberty! 
 
 As the winter ceased its hardships 
 
 And the spring took up its sway, 
 Eagle left Quebec's cold climate, 
 
 And to Boston winged his way; 
 There the British troops were quartered, 
 
 Idly waiting for the spring, 
 While, to Washington's force near them 
 
 Stalwart men came filing in. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 57 
 
 Howe at length sent out an army 
 
 Boldly burning buildings down, 
 Washington meanwhile preparing 
 
 For attack upon the town ; 
 But our Eagle hovered near him 
 
 With a strange, magnetic might, 
 And he turned his thoughts all southward 
 
 To the bold Dorchester Height. 
 
 This, when fortified, would give him 
 
 Sweeping range o'er Howe's whole troop, 
 And, unless they left their quarters, 
 
 Make the British standard droop: 
 So, one night a strong detachment 
 
 Passed in silence oer the neck, 
 While the cannon's ceaseless booming 
 
 Served their marching to protect. 
 
 All night long they toiled unwearied, 
 
 While the sounds of work were drowned 
 By the echo of the booming 
 
 As it rumbled o'er the ground : 
 And, as morning, gray and dusky, 
 
 Sent her greetings up on high, 
 Stalwart forts, and brave defenses 
 
 Stood out boldly od the sky. 
 
 Howe with ghastly terror viewed them, 
 
 For he saw his danger now; 
 And he sought to drive the forces 
 
 From this bold and beetling brow. 
 But a storm came swiftly o'er him, 
 
 And his vessels went adrift, 
 While the rain came down in torrents, 
 
 Hushing dismally and swift. 
 
58 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Eagle cleft the air in triumph, 
 
 Almost giddy with delight, 
 As he saw the hold defenses 
 
 Which were thrown up in one night; 
 And, when Howe, so dark and sullen, 
 
 Gave command to drive them out, 
 Eagle gazed in triumph westward, 
 
 Almost sending forth a shout. 
 
 O'er the sky came swiftly scudding 
 
 Lines of dark and vengeful hue, 
 Such as once he saw o'er Ocean, 
 
 When his heart so joyous grew. 
 Well remembered was the anguish 
 
 Which the distant mutter brought, 
 And the blearing, blinding battle 
 
 He so wildly, fiercely fought. 
 
 Now he saw the drifting, shifting 
 
 Of the clouds, in stern advance, 
 But they looked all fraught with beauty 
 
 To his eager, joyful glance; 
 And the mutter in the distance 
 
 Seemed like music to his ear, 
 For he knew 'twould send destruction 
 
 To the plans Howe held so dear. 
 
 So, one Sunday, shortly after, 
 
 In the dark and dreary morn, 
 With the chill March winds upon them. 
 
 Pressed they seaward, all forlorn; 
 But their hurry was so urgent 
 
 That no order did they mind, 
 And they sailed in great confusion, 
 
 Leaving piles of stores behind. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 59 
 
 On the Height the flag- staff quivered, 
 
 In a stalwart, clutching hand, 
 And glad peals of martial music 
 
 Came from Washington's brave band ! 
 Then they filed in solemn glory 
 
 Through the streets just left by Howe, 
 While a wreath of blessings gathered 
 
 Eound their leader's peerless brow! 
 
 British ships came o'er the Ocean, 
 
 Standing in for Boston Bay, 
 All unconscious that their army 
 
 Had so lately flown away; 
 But they found men there to greet them — 
 
 Men not quite of their belief, 
 Yet their ships were safely harbored, 
 
 And their stores were brought to grief. 
 
 Now, from Boston fled our Eagle, 
 
 For the place was safe from harm, 
 And he longed to visit Plymouth, 
 
 Which for him still held a charm. 
 So he listened as he flitted 
 
 To the sounds upon the way, 
 And he found that feuds were spreading, 
 
 Growing thicker, day by day. 
 
 On his old and sacred bowlder, 
 
 Where he lighted in distress, 
 Dropped he down to gaze o'er Ocean, 
 
 Draped in white and gauzy dress; 
 Billows foamed, and seethed, and muttered, 
 
 As they did long years ago, 
 And the white-caps tossed up jewels 
 
 They had gathered clown below. 
 
CO THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Glancing out once more on Ocean, 
 
 Dotted here and there with sail, 
 Eagle's heart grew sick and weary, 
 
 And his senses seemed to fail. 
 Out upon the billows trembled 
 
 Scores of objects, small and white, 
 Creeping slowly, faintly moving, 
 
 Thus it seemed to Eagle's sight. 
 
 Proudly from his rest he started; 
 
 Eagerly he dashed away ; 
 And the foam crept on beneath him, 
 
 With the billows' surging play. 
 Throbs of pain went pulsing through him 
 
 As he neared that mass of snow, 
 For he saw a fleet fast sailing 
 
 O'er the billows' mystic flow. 
 
 Stalwart ships were those beneath him, 
 
 Standing in for Charleston Bay ; 
 And he cleft the sunbeams fiercely, 
 
 As he sped in fear away. 
 But his heart beat high in triumph 
 
 As he found them all in arms, 
 For the men were ready stationed 
 
 Waiting for the first alarms. 
 
 They had fortified in earnest, 
 
 In the fear of coming war; 
 For a fort on Sullivan's Island 
 
 Six miles out, our Eagle saw. 
 All the way from that to Charleston 
 
 Were our troops prepared to fight, 
 Stationed where they'd most be needed, 
 
 If their aids had told them right. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 61 
 
 Swiftly came the fleet o'er Ocean, 
 
 And at last was placed in force; 
 Eight enormous war-ships charging, 
 
 With their cannon, grim and hoarse. 
 And the booming o'er the waters 
 
 Echoed fiercely 'mid the hills, 
 Quivered out through glen and forest 
 
 With its weird and startling chills. 
 
 But the fort upon the Island, 
 
 Where brave Moultrie led the troops, 
 Answered back the booming thunder 
 
 Which came bursting from the sloops. 
 Slowly, surely, closely aiming, 
 
 Poured they forth their deadly hail — 
 Every shot, with fierce precision 
 
 Forcing out the dying wail. 
 
 Henry Clinton, with his land force 
 
 Came to win the British cause, 
 But the channel, often forded, 
 
 Brought him to a sudden pause; 
 Now its waters, fiercely swollen, 
 
 Proved too deep for "troops to cross, 
 And, though needed by the seamen, 
 
 All the help from him was lost. 
 
 All day long the booming echoed 
 
 O'er the coast and down the Bay, 
 But at night it ceased its rumble, 
 
 And the fleet was drawn away. 
 Only one boat met the outlook 
 
 As the morning dawned again ; 
 That one on a shoal had stranded, 
 
 Spite of curses from the men. 
 
02 THE KING OF THE AIE. 
 
 Soon the flames shot up in grandeur, 
 
 And the boats were lowered away, 
 Bat our men were bent on boarding, 
 
 While the flames were holding sway; 
 So they quickly gained her rigging, 
 
 Seized her colors and her stores, • 
 Left her just before the thunder 
 
 Of her bursting struck the shores. 
 
 Eagle scanned the fight in progress 
 
 With an eager, anxious gaze, 
 And he saw that grand fleet beaten — 
 
 Watched their flight in deep amaze. 
 But his ear again detected 
 
 Sounds which came from off the land, 
 Filled with deep and fearful meaning 
 
 For our young, yet gallant band. 
 
 Shrieks, and howls, and dismal groaning, 
 
 Came to wither Eagle's heart, 
 And too well he knew the meaning 
 
 Of those sounds from distant parts; 
 Knew the red men then were rushing 
 
 On their victims unaware — 
 Knew the shrieks, and groans, and pleadings, 
 
 Struggled out through dark despair. 
 
 WTien had fled Sir Peter Parker, 
 
 And was hushed the sullen boom, 
 Eagle swept to frontier portions 
 
 Where had come this fearful doom ; 
 There the murders, tortures, burnings 
 
 That were laying waste the land, 
 Made him weep that he, though seeing, 
 
 Could not lend a helping hand. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIE. 63 
 
 But the echoes swept the country 
 
 Till the soldiers caught the tones, 
 And a host went out, in pity 
 
 For those wild, despairing moans. 
 Warriors met them, but they conquered — 
 
 Laid their blooming lands to waste — 
 Left them dead beside their victims, 
 
 Stamped with shame and foul disgrace. 
 
 Hope beat high and wild for Freedom 
 
 When those gallant ranks combined, 
 And, in one united Congress, 
 
 Independent papers signed. 
 Free from Britain ! free from serfdom ! 
 
 Stood that noble, stalwart clique! 
 July fourth thus made immortal 
 
 Seventeen hundred seventy-six! 
 
 Eagle heard the declaration 
 
 And his heart with hope beat high ; 
 For he knew that now this Nation 
 
 On its own strength must rely, 
 Up the coast again he hastened, 
 
 For brave Washington he loved, 
 And he longed to watch the army 
 
 From his mystic realm above. 
 
 But a dark, disastrous conflict 
 
 Came to crush his heart anew, 
 For our soldiers, camped at Brooklyn, 
 
 Seemed to curse the Briton's view. 
 Thirty thousand watched and waited 
 
 For the midnight's mystic gloom, 
 While those brave ones, scarce ten thousand, 
 
 All unconscious, neared their doom. 
 
64 THE KING OF THE AIE. 
 
 Sleep had hovered o'er the camp-ground, 
 
 With its witching dreams of home, 
 And afar, 'mid scenes of safety 
 
 In those dreams they seemed to roam; 
 And the tone's of distant loved ones 
 
 Fell like music on the ear, 
 For they mingled with the home scenes 
 
 Long unknown, yet still so dear. 
 
 Night was waning, and the glimmer 
 
 Of the stars that watched their sleep, 
 Twinkled brightly ere the morning 
 
 That would gather o'er the deep. 
 But the moon, with sudden pity 
 
 For the scenes she saw ahead, 
 Veiled her face in gloomy sadness 
 
 With the curtains round her bed. 
 
 Through the stillness came no warning 
 
 Of the foe who crept so near, 
 With their stealthy tread, so even, 
 
 Throbbing gently on the ear; 
 But the sleeping soldiers reveled 
 
 In their dreams of sweetest bliss, 
 And their lips in fancy trembled 
 
 'Neath a mother's holy kiss. 
 
 Hark! the sharp report of muskets 
 
 Sends a chill to every heart; 
 And from off their rustic couches, 
 
 Stern and fierce they wildly start ! 
 Pickets send the message swiftly 
 
 From the coast, along the lines, 
 Thai, the troops are fast approaching 
 
 With their fierce and warlike signs! 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 65 
 
 Brave Lord Stirling, marching toward them, 
 
 Formed his lines for quick defense; 
 Formed them sternly on a hillside 
 
 Crested o'er with forests dense. 
 There he made a sharp resistance, 
 
 Taking sure and deadly aim, 
 While, from distant quarters round him, 
 
 Sounds of deadly conflict came. 
 
 Sullivan's troops were sternly posted 
 
 Back of breastworks, on a hill; 
 Deaf to danger, watched they sharply, 
 
 While the British came so still. 
 Every man, with gun well pointed, 
 
 Waited for a closer aim; 
 Waited for a chance to mow them 
 
 As they slowly upward came. 
 
 Hark! a volley close behind them — 
 
 That in front was just a feint! 
 Horror seized them, and the wildness 
 
 Which prevailed, no pen can paint! 
 Just between two heavy fires — 
 
 Saw they naught but dark defeat*, 
 And they fled in deepest terror, 
 
 Dying in their wild retreat. 
 
 Eager British soldiers met them 
 
 As they rushed from out the wood, 
 And their stricken forms lay bleeding 
 
 Where just now the foeman stood. 
 Only now and then a handful 
 
 Cut their way through British lines; 
 Others, frantic, sought the forest, 
 
 Only darker death to find. 
 5 
 
66 THE KING OF THE AIE. 
 
 Sullivan vainly tried to stay them, 
 
 For his men were wild with fright; 
 Yet a few remained beside him 
 
 In the breastworks on the height. 
 Fought they there like valiant heroes, 
 
 Till so pressed they needs must flee, 
 For they knew no help could reach them, 
 
 Though their troops had all been free. 
 
 Stirling, pressed by double numbers, 
 
 Fought with brave, undaunted soul, 
 Till he heard the noise of muskets 
 
 From his camp at Brooklyn roll. 
 Safety called for instant action, 
 
 And he made a bold attack; 
 Under cover of this onset 
 
 All his troops fled safely back. 
 
 Eagle, filled with deepest horror, 
 
 Watched the conflict as it raged, 
 And he saw that stern and dauntless 
 
 Was the war the British waged. 
 All their plans were safely guarded, 
 
 And their men were sharply drilled; 
 While our ranks, so lately gathered, 
 
 Seemed with frantic terror filled. 
 
 Now they scattered, wild with anguish, 
 
 Bushing on to certain death, 
 Yet they uttered prayers for Freedom 
 
 With their last, departing breath. 
 Thickly strewn, their ghastly faces 
 
 Blanched with horror as they fell, 
 And their life-blood trickled darkly 
 
 O'er the soil they loved so well. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 67 
 
 Washington's troops, across the river, 
 
 Heard the dismal, sullen boom, 
 And the din, and rush, and rattle, 
 
 Filled their hearts with deepest gloom. 
 Soldiers sadly watched and listened 
 
 To the dull and dismal sound, 
 And in fancy saw their comrades 
 
 Scattered, bleeding, o'er the ground. 
 
 Hotly dashed the British forces 
 
 On the heels of fleeing men, 
 As, disordered and dejected, 
 
 Rushed they into camp again. 
 Washington, in deepest anguish, 
 
 Saw that all indeed was lost; 
 And he knew this last resistance 
 
 Had been made at fearful cost. 
 
 Closer gathered Howe his army, 
 
 Throwing up intrenchments high, 
 Day by day, with brave approaches 
 
 Slowly, surely drawing nigh; 
 Shortly they would mount our breastworks, 
 
 Take our men all captives grim; 
 Thus they chuckled in their triumph, 
 
 Getting all in warlike trim. 
 
 But, one morning, still and deathly 
 
 Seemed our camp, so close to view, 
 And the sentinels crept toward it, 
 
 Fearing, what, they scarcely knew. 
 But they cautiously approached it, 
 
 Peering in with startled gaze — 
 For the camp was bare and Vacant, 
 
 Which, last night, was all ablaze. 
 
68 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 O'er the river, borne in barges, 
 
 Had nine thousand men escaped, 
 And the British, close beside them, 
 
 Not a sound had heard them make. 
 Near New York our soldiers quartered, 
 
 And the troops from Brooklyn brought, 
 Gladly found themselves in safety 
 
 After all the ruin wrought. 
 
 Eagle hovered o'er Long Island, 
 
 Fiercely flitting back and forth, 
 For the dark stains on the grasses 
 
 Showed the battle's bloody course. 
 Here were crushed his own heart's treasures, 
 
 Gasping out a voiceless prayer; 
 They had fought for peerless Freedom — 
 
 Eagle's highest, noblest care. 
 
 Dark and vengeful were his glances 
 
 As he watched Howe close them in, 
 For he knew their well-placed cannon 
 
 Freedom's ranks would shortly thin. 
 But he dashed o'er Brooklyn's camp-ground, 
 
 Saw them lower their gleaming tents, 
 And he almost shouted wildly 
 
 As the barges bore them hence. 
 
 But the boom of cannon deepened, 
 
 For they strove to gain New York; 
 They had gained the stations round it — 
 
 Made their work both sure and short. 
 Just a sorry, faint resistance 
 
 Made by raw and frightened men, 
 Was the strength our troops could muster, 
 
 And the British won again. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 69 
 
 Sad and drooping was the plumage 
 
 Of our birdling, once so proud ; 
 For his dear, devoted country 
 
 Seemed enveloped in a cloud. 
 Eagle settled near the army 
 
 Which retreated miles away, 
 And his head drooped down in sorrow, 
 
 'Neath the clouds so dark and gray. 
 
 Short his dark and dreary musings, 
 
 For his self-hood gained its sway. 
 And he cast the darkness from him, 
 
 Wooing back the smiling day. 
 Should he, Freedom's proudest birdling— 
 
 Who had braved the wildest storms — 
 Droop and die because defeated, 
 
 Like those stiff and gory forms? 
 
 Proudly from his rest he vaulted, 
 
 And his eyes gave forth a gleam ; 
 And he shook himself in triumph, 
 
 Casting back his somber dream; 
 Upward, till he caught the sunbeams 
 
 As they met him, pure and free, 
 All his strength of soul and sinews 
 
 Pledged, henceforth, for Liberty. 
 
 Oh, what value lies in sunlight; 
 
 Brooklyn's dark and dread defeat 
 Made the sky seem grim and ghastly, 
 
 In their sad and sore retreat. 
 Officers had fled in terror, 
 
 Yolunteers seemed quite insane, 
 And our Eagle saw no gleaming 
 
 Of the sunlight on the plain. 
 
70 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Now, since he had caught the glimmer 
 
 Of the light and gorgeous day, 
 Sunbeams came in joyous ripples, 
 
 Flashing jewels on the way. 
 Armies rallied, standing firmly 
 
 While the foe against them dashed; 
 They had turned the picture over, 
 
 Looking where the sunlight flashed. 
 
 But a distant booming echoed 
 
 From afar, o'er hill and dale, 
 And it caught our Eagle's hearing 
 
 Like a dismal, ghostly wail. 
 Though he noticed Howe preparing 
 
 For attack upon our men, 
 Still he thought, before they ventured, 
 
 He might greet his loves again. 
 
 O'er the forest, happy, hopeful, 
 
 Flitted noiselessly our bird, 
 List'ning gladly to the music 
 
 He for months had scarcely heard; 
 Rippling, swelling, mellow, joyous, 
 
 Shouted out from tiny throats, 
 Came those welcome, winsome measures 
 
 From the warbling, dancing host. 
 
 Now a long deserted brooklet, 
 
 Trickling down its winding course, 
 Pleaded for a glance of greeting 
 
 With its gentle, winning force; 
 And the somber hills and mountains 
 
 Stiffly smiled from hoary crests, 
 Casting up their bright reflections 
 
 For a gem on Eagle's breast. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 71 
 
 Now and then a pink-lmed cluster 
 
 Threw him up a fragrant breath, 
 Or a drooping, loving blue-bell 
 
 Mutely beckoned him to rest. 
 Now a feathered, filmy fern leaf 
 
 Shook her plumage as he passed, 
 Then a trim and tufted balsam 
 
 Boldly on his vision flashed. 
 
 Yet he passed them by unanswered, 
 
 Though he longed for just one day; 
 But the tiring in the distance 
 
 Urged him still away, away! 
 So he cleft the ether sternly, 
 
 Casting down one loving glance 
 As he saw the beck, so gaily 
 
 O'er its pebbly bottom dance. 
 
 As he neared the heavy booming, 
 
 Saw he water once again, 
 And the snowy sails of war-ships 
 
 Met his view on hake Champlain. 
 Arnold's tiny boats were lighting 
 
 'Gainst a grim and monstrous fleet, 
 Yet, with stern, unflinching valor 
 
 Feared he not the foe to meet. 
 
 Sullenly the sails were flapping, 
 
 And the cordage creaked and groaned; 
 And the wind in fitful gushes 
 
 Through the rigging sighed ami moaned, 
 And the blinding smoke came belching 
 
 From the sides, with sudden lurch, 
 And the grim hail rattled fiercely 
 
 As it sped in deathly search. 
 
72 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Now a spar would crack and totter, 
 
 And the cordage snap and twirl, 
 Then a crash, and spar and canvas 
 
 O'er the side would fiercely whirl; 
 And the shrieks of drowning heroes, 
 
 As, in vain, they clung for life, 
 Echoed up from out the billows 
 
 In their mad and ghastly strife. 
 
 Arnold, 'gainst such fearful numbers 
 
 Gave them long and tedious fight, 
 But, as night came o'er the waters, 
 
 Gathered he his troops for flight. 
 In the morning, when the twilight 
 
 Blossomed out in gorgeous day, 
 Captain Pringle saw no canvas 
 
 Save his own, which near him lay. 
 
 Arnold fled for Ticonderoga, 
 
 Seeking shelter 'neath the fort, 
 But the foe, by hot pursuing 
 
 Reached him ere he entered port; 
 Yet he fought them, sharply, fiercely, 
 
 While his foremost boats escaped ; 
 Then he landed, burned his vessels, 
 
 And his course for safety shaped. 
 
 Carleton followed, only stopping 
 
 At Crown Point to take command; 
 But the other post defied him 
 
 From the water and the land. 
 Cold, bleak winter was approaching, 
 
 With its ice, and snow, and sleet, 
 So the leader and his forces 
 
 Drew away in grim retreat. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 73 
 
 Eagle saw their lines retreating 
 
 O'er the dark, uneven ground, 
 And he watched their swaying motions, 
 
 As through deep defiles they wound. 
 Then he shouted forth his rapture, 
 
 For he saw that here, at least, 
 Through the dreary days of winter, 
 
 War, with deeds of gore, must cease. 
 
 Gladly sped he homeward, homeward — 
 
 Shouting out a glad refrain, 
 Scarcely glancing down beneath him 
 
 In his flight o'er hill and plain. 
 He was sure his loves were watching 
 
 For his coming, day by day; 
 But, though fain to feel their kisses, 
 
 Duty called him far away. 
 
 So he shut his ears to music 
 
 Which for him had sweetest charms, 
 And he shortly gained the quarters 
 
 That were rife with war's alarms. 
 British troops had pushed our soldiers 
 
 Slowly back from place to place, 
 'Till again, with hearts discouraged 
 
 Fled they from the Briton's face. 
 
 Stalwart troops were still arriving, 
 Filling up Howe's able band, 
 
 While our forces, sad and gloomy, 
 Were too weak to make a stand. 
 
 Thus, from place to place they posted, 
 Giving up as Howe marched on, 
 
 'Till the British claimed the Islands- 
 Owned Forts Lee and Washington. 
 
74 THE KING OF THE AIK. 
 
 Newark, Trenton and New Brunswick 
 
 Each in turn were left behind, 
 And our troops, their time expiring, 
 
 For their treasured home scenes pined. 
 So they left our hero helpless, 
 
 Backward driven by a host; 
 Scarce two thousand stood beside him 
 
 When he needed help the most. 
 
 O'er the Delaware he hastened 
 
 Just as Howe's force came in sight; 
 Thirty thousand well trained soldiers, 
 
 Ready, eager for the light. 
 Howe gazed out across the river 
 
 With a proud, triumphant smile, 
 For he saw our scanty numbers 
 
 Weakly toward their quarters file. 
 
 Eagle hovered o'er the camp-ground, 
 
 With his head in sadness bowed; 
 For he saw the glory vanished 
 
 Which had made him once so proud : 
 But the dear commander lingered, 
 
 Hopeful still through all this loss, 
 Though he feared, the river frozen, 
 
 Howe would march his troops across. 
 
 O'er the river Eagle flitted, 
 
 Viewing now the British host 
 Scattered far o'er wealth of country, 
 
 From the midlands to the coast. 
 Seemed it now indeed as useless 
 
 For our small and meager band 
 'Gainst such odds to offer battle, 
 
 As now scattered o'er the land. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 75 
 
 Other men perhaps might falter 
 
 'Gainst such wildly fearful odds; 
 But our hero knew no fainting 
 
 In the course his footsteps trod. 
 Freedom's star before him twinkled — 
 
 Freedom's banner o'er him waved! 
 Would he see the star-beams darkened, 
 
 Or the banner go unsaved? 
 
 Washington set out to conquer — 
 
 For he knew his cause was just; 
 And he ne'er would see his banner 
 
 Trailing sadly in the dust! 
 So he called for new enlistments, 
 
 But the people saw no hope; 
 Then he knew his meager handful 
 
 Through the gloom alone must grope. 
 
 Merry Christmas, with its pleasures 
 
 Came at last in chilling state, 
 And the frost-king breathed his vengeance 
 
 Filled with piercing, pinching hate. 
 Washington sent two divisions 
 
 O'er the Delaware, to fight; 
 Leading on a third to Trenton 
 
 Through this cold and bitter night. 
 
 But the ice proved quite disastrous 
 
 To his happy, well-formed scheme, 
 For his band, alone successful, 
 
 Landed o'er the ice-bound stream. 
 Yet, though bitter cold the marching, 
 
 Pressed they on with footsteps firm, 
 For their nerves were steeled for battle, 
 
 And their hearts were bold and stern. 
 
76 THE KING OF THE AIK. 
 
 Early morning showed them Trenton, 
 
 With its Hessian guards in place, 
 But they dashed upon them quickly, 
 
 As they met them face to face. 
 And so steady was the onset, 
 
 And so bold the battle borne 
 That one thousand Hessians yielded — 
 
 Of their boasting quickly shorn. 
 
 But the rest rushed back in terror. 
 
 Making sure and safe retreat, 
 While our hero seized their colors, 
 
 Which went trailing at his feet. 
 Then he crossed again the river 
 
 O'er its rugged, ice-bound shores. 
 Brought to camp, in blissful triumph 
 
 All their cannon, arms and stores. 
 
 One more brave division landed 
 
 O'er the piles of gathered ice, 
 And, when news from Trenton reached them, 
 
 Still pressed on to join the strife. 
 But the British fled in terror, 
 
 As on Bordentown they marched, 
 And our troops were filled with triumph, 
 
 Though the-frost-king clutched their hearts. 
 
 Back to Trenton drew our forces, 
 
 Which, since fortune smiled again, 
 Numbered near five thousand heroes, 
 
 Loyal, brave and stalwart men. 
 Here Cornwallis marched against them, 
 
 Belching thunder through the day, 
 But at night our force retreated, 
 
 Passing Princeton, on the way. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 77 
 
 Here the earnest, noble Mercer — 
 
 Washington's most valued friend — 
 Fought and died, a valiant hero, 
 
 Firm, unflinching to the end. 
 Sharp, and stern, and fierce the battle; 
 
 Britons boldly, bravely bled, 
 'Till our country's life and honor 
 
 Rested on a slender thread. 
 
 Young, undisciplined and timid 
 
 Were the troops our hero led, 
 And so hotly pressed the Britons 
 
 That their courage drooped and fled. 
 Then the savior of our country — 
 
 Knowing Princeton must be won — 
 Offered up his life for Freedom, 
 
 Though the strife had just begun. 
 
 He had pledged himself, his honor — 
 
 And the pledge was sacred yet — 
 Thus to win our country's Freedom, 
 
 Or his life should pay the debt. 
 Now, amid his sinking soldiers, 
 
 With his grand and noble mien, 
 Tried he thus their strength to rally, 
 
 As he rushed their ranks between. 
 
 But disorder only thickened ; 
 
 All his efforts were in vain; 
 They had been so long in action 
 
 That their hearts were numb with pain! 
 Then, with keenest anguish cutting 
 
 Through his soul, so full of woe, 
 Proudly reined he up before them, 
 
 Sternly facing toward the foe. 
 
78 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Well they knew the fearful meaning 
 
 Of this pleading, mute appeal ! 
 Could they see him, in his manhood 
 
 Die a martyr to his zeal? 
 There he stood, so stern and silent, 
 
 Facing straight the eager foe; 
 Ah! they rush with frantic gesture! 
 
 Into line they quickly go! 
 
 Eagle watched with throbbing pulses 
 
 As he saw the men give way, 
 For he knew the cause was hopeless 
 
 If the British won the day. 
 Then he saw the vain endeavors 
 
 Of his grand and faithful friend, 
 And his agony was fearful 
 
 As he guessed the doleful end. 
 
 Oh ! he could not see him murdered 
 
 As he wheeled and took his stand! 
 He would breathe his life out freely 
 
 For this leader and his band! 
 Ah! his mute appeal is answered — 
 
 Soldiers fill the ranks again; 
 Yet, oh horror! stands he firmly 
 
 Twixt the British and his men ! 
 
 What can save him from the bullets ? 
 
 They will pierce him through and through! 
 Eagle gave one cry of anguish, 
 
 Then before him sternly flew. 
 Deadly shots now thickly rattled — 
 
 Fierce the cannon boomed around — 
 But our hero, calm, undaunted, 
 
 Stood alone, without a wound. 
 
THE KLN-G OF THE AIR. 79 
 
 Eagle plumed his rumpled pinions 
 
 As he lighted near the field, 
 While a song of deep thanksgiving 
 
 From his bosom softly pealed! 
 He had done his duty nobly, 
 
 For his chief a target seemed; 
 Yet, as cleared the smoke around him, 
 
 All unharmed his form was seen. 
 
 Now the British fled, disordered, 
 
 Washington had won the day 
 By his cool and daring conduct, 
 
 Setting foe and fear at bay. 
 He had turned the tide of battle — 
 
 Now he pushed away for rest, 
 Breaking down the bridge at Kingston 
 
 So pursuit could not be pressed. 
 
 Eagle hovered o'er our hero, 
 
 With his drooping hopes revived ; 
 For he saw, with deepest triumph 
 
 That our cause was still alive. 
 Then he flitted o'er the country, 
 
 Swooping down to catch the sounds 
 That were uttered by the people 
 
 As the news went speeding 'round. 
 
 Deepest joy, all unsuspected 
 
 Came to swell his troubled heart, 
 For he saw this fearful battle 
 
 Thrilled and throbbed through every part. 
 Howe's whole force seemed bent on plunder 
 
 As they idly passed their days, 
 And they roused the people's anger, 
 
 By their reckless, heartless ways. 
 
80 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Thus, when Washington, so dauntless, 
 
 Kind, and firm, and bold of heart, 
 'Gainst a host his own troops planted 
 
 In a conflict fierce and sharp, 
 When he bore away triumphant 
 
 Laurels they ne'er thought to win, 
 Hearts and hopes arose in triumph — 
 
 Volunteers came thronging in. 
 
 Short, though peaceful, was their resting 
 
 As at Morristown they lay, 
 For the British could not rout them, 
 
 Though their troops should come that way. 
 'Mid the hills they rested safely, 
 
 Strongly guarded, day and night; 
 And the foe, though trebly numbered, 
 
 Dare not draw them out to fight. 
 
 Washington sent out detachments 
 
 Through the rifled Jersey lands, 
 Getting back his losses bravely 
 
 From the boasting British bands. 
 Thus he kept his noble army 
 
 Driving back the British host, 
 Just as they had once been driven; 
 
 On and on, from post to post! 
 
 Howe's attention turned toward Peekskill, 
 
 Where McDougall held command. 
 But McDougall 's friends gave warning, 
 
 And he drew away his band. 
 Lord Cornwallis wanted Bound Brook, 
 
 Where brave Lincoln's forces lay, 
 But, though nearly all surrounded, 
 
 Through their ranks they cut their way. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 81 
 
 Danbury went to swell the conquests 
 
 That our men were forced to yield, 
 But the British depredations 
 
 Soon were doomed to other fields. 
 Arnold pressed across the country, 
 
 Giving battle to their troops, 
 And, with skirmish after skirmish, 
 
 Followed, 'till they gained their sloops. 
 
 Then our men commenced attacking 
 
 In return for British raids, 
 And they seized their stores in triumph, 
 
 Sent their vessels to the shades. 
 Scores of prisoners were captured 
 
 In these skirmishes so wild, 
 Who were forced to join the marching, 
 
 As to camp again they filed. 
 
 Thus our Eagle's mind was harrassed, 
 
 Watching o'er so broad a space, 
 Keeping track of all Howe's movements, 
 
 Flitting round from place to place. 
 But when Howe sent out his armies 
 
 With a view to gain our rear, 
 Flashed he down with softest whispers 
 
 To our chief, to him so dear. 
 
 Soon with joyous heart he saw him 
 
 Giving out a quick command, 
 And his forces hastened swiftly 
 
 Toward the mountain guarded land. 
 Thus again they gained the passes 
 
 Which the British longed to seize, 
 And again they felt the kisses 
 
 Of the buoyant mountain breeze. 
 6 
 
82 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 But those armies came against them, 
 
 And the Brandy wine they crossed, 
 Fighting still like valiant heroes, 
 
 Though at deep and fearful cost. 
 Sharp reports now echoed wildly 
 
 Through the valleys, o'er the hills, 
 And the booming of the cannon 
 
 Shook the leaflets, o'er the rills! 
 
 Fierce the battles at the stations 
 
 Where our chief had posted men, 
 For the British, with their thousands 
 
 Rushed to combat once again. 
 At Chad's Ford our chief was posted, 
 
 With the main part of his force, 
 While the British sent their missiles 
 
 Straight across the water-course. 
 
 All our troops were beaten backward 
 
 In a quick, confused retreat, 
 And they halted first at Chester, 
 
 'Till the scattered men could meet. 
 Morning found them marching onward, 
 
 Mourning sadly o'er their fate, 
 While the British, all triumphant, 
 
 Yented forth their bitter hate. 
 
 Grim defeat had clutched our army, 
 
 For they failed at every turn; 
 And a fate seemed thrown around them 
 
 Dark and vengeful, deep and stern. 
 Yet bold Wayne, with his detachment 
 
 Came in contact with the foe, 
 Drove them back in wild confusion 
 
 With a fierce, decided blow. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIE. 83 
 
 Washington was still undaunted, 
 
 Though his heart was filled with grief ; 
 He would die, without surrender, 
 
 Though the struggle might be brief ! 
 Once again he planned a battle, 
 
 Once again he led the way; 
 German town lay idly dreaming 
 
 As they charged, at dawn of day. 
 
 But again they met disaster, 
 
 Though they fought like heroes still; 
 For the British met them fiercely, 
 
 Sweeping toward them with a will. 
 Grim retreat again was ordered, 
 
 And our men rushed back to camp, 
 And the dense fog crooned around them, 
 
 Drifting o'er them cold and damp. 
 
 O'er the Delaware Fort Mifflin 
 
 Frowned, with cannon hoarse and grim, 
 Bedbank stood, in hoary sternness, 
 
 Just across, with guns in trim. 
 British troops, 'neath flying colors 
 
 Came to lay these stations low, 
 But the guns, all belching madly, 
 
 Gave their hopes a deadly blow. 
 
 Soldiers dropped, 'neath leaden missiles 
 
 Sent with firm, unerring aim, 
 And their officers lay dying, 
 
 Who so boldly onward came. 
 Sadly marched the remnant homeward, 
 
 While the vessels, sent to fight, 
 Grounded on the sandbars near them, 
 
 Helpless, now, for work or flight. 
 
84 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Eagle sailed o'er Howe's great army, 
 
 Listened to his angry cry, 
 And he knew our men at Mifflin, 
 
 Some, at least, were doomed to die. 
 For this noble stream they needed, 
 
 And they cared not for the cost; 
 So they made grim preparations, 
 
 Though the air was keen with frost. 
 
 Batteries were built near Mifflin, 
 
 And the ships were got in place, 
 "While a stormy cannonading 
 
 Shortly echoed back in chase. 
 'Neath the heavy, deadly missiles 
 
 Mifflin soon was beaten down, 
 While the garrison at Redbank 
 
 Left the fort, and safety found. 
 
 Howe now tried to force a battle, 
 
 Moving 'round to draw them out, 
 But our chief, in camp at Skippach 
 
 Let them send their troops about. 
 When at last they left their station, 
 
 And he saw the coast was clear, 
 Valley Forge was made his camp-ground 
 
 Through the winter, bleak and drear. 
 
 Eagle often thought of Schuyler 
 
 'Mid the hills on Lake Champlain, 
 Where his weak force, grim and quiet, 
 
 Through the winter frosts had lain. 
 All the summer he had flitted 
 
 O'er his loved and honored chief; 
 Now, in peaceful rest he left him, 
 
 Though this resting might be brief. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 85 
 
 Pained with doubt, and fear, and sorrow, 
 
 Eagle gazed once more around, 
 Gave a prayer for Princeton's hero, 
 
 Swept above the frozen ground. 
 On his way he met no greetings, 
 
 Caught no pink-hued blossom's glance; 
 And the birds had ceased their music, 
 
 And the becks their bubbling dance. 
 
 Still and white the scenes beneath him, 
 
 And the wind grew colder still, 
 And the trees — their boughs snow-laden — 
 
 Stretched their arms out stiff and chill. 
 But he came where piled-up timbers, 
 
 Formed for breastworks, met his view, 
 And he knew the course of battle 
 
 Had these fearful wilds passed through. 
 
 With his hopes in wild commotion, 
 
 Eagle swept above the hills, 
 'Till he reached Ticonderoga, 
 
 Where his heart with terror chilled. 
 No more saw he now the waving 
 
 Of the blessed stars and stripes, 
 But the British flag, in triumph 
 
 Flaunted out upon his sight. 
 
 Like a dream he seemed to follow 
 
 All the flight of that poor band, 
 As it spread away beneath him, 
 
 Fierce, appalling, stern, yet grand. 
 Here he saw Burgoyne's vast army 
 
 Rushing up to take the forts, 
 Then he seemed to hear the cannon 
 
 In their heavy, glum reports ! 
 
86 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Here St. Clair, with just a handful 
 
 Crept away from certain death. 
 Sending part out o'er the. water, 
 
 Mute and chill, with bated breath. 
 But the British soon pursued them, 
 
 And at Skenesborough gave them fight, 
 Where their stores were all deserted, 
 
 And the whole troops joined the flight. 
 
 Brave St. Clair, who led the land troops 
 
 Pushed for Castletown in haste; 
 But a large and prompt division 
 
 Gave him hot and speedy chase. 
 Now his rear-guard, faint and weary, 
 
 Halted, weak from swift retreat, 
 But the British rushed upon them, 
 
 Bringing sad and sure defeat. 
 
 Then, with hearts all sad and gloomy 
 
 Toward Fort Edward rushed our men, 
 For they wished to rest their forces 
 
 Ere they met the foe again ; 
 And the troops which Long commanded 
 
 Sadly gathered at Fort Ann, 
 But the British still pursued them, 
 
 Driving out the weary band. 
 
 Ere they left they fired the fortress, 
 
 And away in terror sped, 
 All their hopes placed on Fort Edward 
 
 Where the other band had fled : 
 And they gathered there exhausted, 
 
 Deeply stricken with their loss, 
 For the forts and brave defenses 
 
 All were built at fearful cost. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR, 87 
 
 Schuyler, thus to gain a respite, 
 
 Set his men to felling trees ; 
 Then the bridges all were broken — 
 
 Scattered out upon the breeze. 
 Thus Burgoyne advanced but slowly 
 
 As he marched to crush the foe, 
 And he found Fort Edward vacant, 
 
 After all his toil and woe. 
 
 Thus they kept Burgoyne impeded 
 
 As he followed up the chase, 
 Moving safely out before him, 
 
 Toiling on from place to place. 
 Stark gave battle to his forces, 
 
 Which at Bennington he met, 
 And the town, thus saved from plunder, 
 
 Offered up no sad regret. 
 
 Other sad and stern disasters 
 
 Came to hurt the royal cause,' 
 For Gansvoort, who held Fort Schuyler, 
 
 Brought their army to a pause. 
 Here Burgoyne had sent St. Leger 
 
 With command to take the fort, 
 But, when summoned to surrender, 
 
 Bold defiance gave Gansvoort. 
 
 Then St. Leger stormed the fortress, 
 
 And, when Herkimer appeared, 
 Placed in ambush scores of Indians, 
 
 Wild, untamed, with hatred bleared. 
 Herkimer led on his heroes, 
 
 Unsuspecting, brave and bold; 
 But they all fell, crushed and bleeding 
 
 As that tempest o'er them rolled ! 
 
38 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Now came word that Arnold neared them 
 
 With a strong and brave command, 
 And the news brought consternation 
 
 To that bloated savage band. 
 Thus St. Leger was defeated, 
 
 And he raised the siege at last, 
 Leaving all his stores behind him 
 
 As to Montreal he passed. 
 
 But the armies slowly gathered 
 
 For a grand, decisive raid; 
 And they marched to meet in battle, 
 
 With their plans all deeply laid. 
 At Stillwater came the meeting; 
 
 Each band claimed the victory, 
 But, though stern and fierce the battle, 
 
 Neither gained supremacy. 
 
 Night in somber silence settled, 
 
 Forcing foemen from their feuds, 
 And they left the gory gorges, 
 
 Neither army yet subdued. 
 So Burgoyne drew up his forces 
 
 Just beyond our cannon's range, 
 Throwing up a line of breastworks 
 
 'Till his quarters he could change. 
 
 Meanwhile General Lincoln's army 
 
 Was at work upon Lake George ; 
 And the chains began to weaken 
 
 Which by Koyalty were forged. 
 People saw that will and courage, 
 
 And a strong, united force, 
 Soon would turn the restless channel 
 
 Of the battle's surging course. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 89 
 
 Thus, when next Burgoyne attacked them 
 
 With his old and steady corps, 
 Men met men with nerves unflinching 
 
 Which were weak and faint before. 
 Arnold, always brave in battle, 
 
 Led his men to hottest fight; 
 And, though steeds were shot beneath him, 
 
 Still he fought with giant might. 
 
 In the night Burgoyne moved backward — 
 
 Placed his troops in strong array, 
 And his cannon, doubly shotted, 
 
 Fiercely boomed throughout the day. 
 In the night his troops retreated, 
 
 Leaving baggage, stores and sick, 
 While the rain rushed ranting o'er them, 
 
 And the mud was deep and thick. 
 
 When at last the rain was over 
 
 Gates pursued the vanquished foe, 
 Who at Saratoga met him 
 
 With a faint, disordered show. 
 Short the battle, and decisive, 
 
 For Burgoyne was fairly caged ; 
 And the haughty troops surrendered, 
 
 'Neath the war our forces waged. 
 
 Eagle's dream at last was over, 
 
 And the mystic spell was gone; 
 Then he turned him sadly homeward 
 
 In the frost of early dawn ; 
 But he cast his eyes in sorrow 
 
 O'er the posts our men had lost, 
 For that widely spread destruction 
 
 Left the country tempest tossed. 
 
00 THE. KING OF THE AIE. 
 
 Home again! But oh, how sadly 
 
 Gazed he o'er his cherished ones, 
 For their winter stores had failed them — 
 
 They had fallen short of funds. 
 In their march to winter quarters 
 
 O'er the rough and frozen ground, 
 They had marked, with gory footprints 
 
 Where their weary way had wound. 
 
 Scant and tattered was their clothing, 
 
 And their bare feet crushed the snow 
 As it piled in heaps around them, 
 
 And the storms passed to and fro; 
 Then, when famine came upon them 
 
 And their nerves grew weak and faint, 
 Eagle watched their hopeless anguish, 
 
 Though they uttered no complaint. 
 
 Winter lingered long and loving 
 
 In the lap of gorgeous spring, 
 But at last his reign was over, 
 
 And the snowflakes wept their king. 
 France had joined to fight the British, 
 
 And our troops new courage gained, 
 Fighting boldly, though so haggard — 
 
 Though so lately hope had waned. 
 
 But the British pushed their conquests, 
 
 Throwing out their scattered bands, 
 'Till the towns were wrapped in terror, 
 
 And a gloom oppressed the land. 
 Burned they down our vessels grimly, 
 
 'Till the Delaware was free, 
 Which they now in peace commanded 
 
 Through the Jerseys to the sea. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIE. 91 
 
 La Fayette had gained position 
 
 On the hills a few miles out; 
 William Howe would fain surprise him, 
 
 And his gallant forces rout. 
 But the Marquis, brave and thoughtful, 
 
 While they came with muffled tramp 
 Made retreat through wooded passes, 
 
 Leaving Howe the vacant camp. 
 
 British leaders, sorely frightened 
 
 Now the French were joining in, 
 Ordered Howe from Philadelphia, 
 
 Where his troops had idle been ; 
 Passed they out without a skirmish, 
 
 Though our troops were scarce restrained; 
 But they marched the streets in triumph 
 
 While the rear guard yet remained. 
 
 Washington disliked to spare them 
 
 'Till he gave one parting call, 
 So he followed with his forces, 
 
 Though so haggard and so small. 
 But they fought the foemen bravely, 
 
 As they turned to meet the fray, 
 Fighting on, 'till Henry Clinton 
 
 Meekly drew his troops away. 
 
 Washington demanded Newport, 
 
 Since the fleet from France arrived, 
 And he thought at once to gain it 
 
 By the help from her derived. 
 But a storm came swiftly o'er them, 
 
 And the fleet was scattered wide, 
 While on land their stores were flooded, 
 
 And unsheltered soldiers died. 
 
92 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 But they dried their guns and powder, 
 
 And began a fearful siege, 
 Daily gazing out to seaward, 
 
 Watching for their foreign liege 
 Ah! at last his sails are sighted, 
 
 And the men exulting cry; 
 But D'Estaing will not help them — 
 
 And they raise the siege and fly. 
 
 British hosts, with hatred swelling, 
 
 Burned our towns, and ships, and stores, 
 And the shouts that cheered the burning 
 
 Echoed out from Sylvan shores. 
 Spars and masts all burned to cinders 
 
 Toppled o'er like somber pall, 
 And the hulks, in glowing blackness 
 
 Mutely cursed their fiendish call. 
 
 Skirmish followed skirmish closely, 
 
 Britons cutting off our men; 
 Next, their soldiers thickly falling, 
 
 As they turned to fight again. 
 British fleets were trained for battle, 
 
 Moving out in conscious pride; 
 But a storm would strike them fiercely — 
 
 Dash them out upon the tide. 
 
 Winter storms were now approaching, 
 
 And our chief drew back his troops, 
 While the British army hastened 
 
 Toward the South, in Parker's sloops. 
 There the winter favored fighting, 
 
 On the balmy southern coast, 
 So they left New York well guarded, 
 
 Striking out for distant posts. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 93 
 
 Eagle saw our troops in quarters, 
 
 Then he turned from camp away; 
 For his ear had caught the wai lings 
 
 Rising louder, day by day, 
 That were forced from murdered settlers 
 
 Who had sought the wild frontier, 
 Where the refugees and Indians 
 
 Joined to keep them crushed with fear. 
 
 He had heard the dismal wailing, 
 
 Early in the summer borne 
 On the fragrant breeze that caught it, 
 
 From the dying victims torn; 
 But his heart was with the army 
 
 In its dreary, dark campaign, 
 And he lingered, as he listened 
 
 To the fearful sounds that came. 
 
 Now he hastened o'er the country, 
 
 And his heart grew dull and faint; 
 For the horrors which had happened 
 
 No skilled hand could ever paint ! 
 All the beauty, grand and blooming 
 
 Of Wyoming's lovely vale, 
 Had by savage hands been wasted, 
 
 'Mid the murdered settlers' wail. 
 
 Here again his vision opened, 
 
 And he saw as in a dream 
 All the fierce details of murder 
 
 Which with blood had dyed the stream ; 
 And his heart was almost palsied 
 
 With the bitter, vengeful hate 
 Which had wrought such ghastly ruin 
 
 Through this young and blooming State. 
 
94 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Refugees in painted grimness 
 
 Joined the savage Indian sports, 
 And, while terror seized the inmates, 
 
 Stormed Wyoming's slender forts. 
 High in air the axe was lifted, 
 
 Then it cleft the shrinking brain, 
 And the forms, all gashed and bleeding, 
 
 Lay in piles, convulsed with pain. 
 
 Still more hideous was the hatred 
 
 Which the demons showed at last, 
 For, the women, men and children 
 
 In the fort they fiercely massed! 
 Locked within it, flames were lighted, 
 
 And the dry wood roared and seethed, 
 While the demons danced and shouted, 
 
 And the sky with smoke was wreathed! 
 
 Stalwart troops were sent to quell them, 
 
 Who their reeking footsteps pressed, 
 While their raids throughout Virginia 
 
 Now received a sharp arrest. 
 Colonel Clark marched out against them; 
 
 Fearful toils his heart endured; 
 And the settlers blessed the hero 
 
 Who had peace at last secured. 
 
 Eagle's breath came short and hurried 
 
 As the blasting vision passed, 
 For his eye saw naught but ruin 
 
 Where before such beauties massed. 
 Crumbled walls, and blackened fences, 
 
 And the soil all dead and dark, 
 Seemed to cry for Eagle's vengeance — 
 
 Lying there so still and stark. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 95 
 
 But a sound from southern countries 
 
 Came in all its startling force, 
 Shiv'ring, booming through the mountains, 
 
 Pointing out war's surging course. 
 High in air our Eagle vaulted — 
 
 Left those marks of savage sway — 
 Dashed o'er mountain, stream and forest 
 
 In the gloom at dawn of da}'. 
 
 Nearer grew the sounds of combat 
 
 As he sped o'er hill and dale, 
 And the sun looked bright and smiling, 
 
 Since he left Wyoming's vale. 
 Still some signs of warfare met him, 
 
 For the frontier near him lay, 
 And he almost heard the war-whoop 
 
 Piercing through the forest gray. 
 
 Toward the booming, onward, onward 
 
 'Till Savannah flashed ahead, 
 And the sunbeams o'er her bosom 
 
 Soon dispelled his dismal dread. 
 Then he saw our men surrounded 
 
 By an angry British host, 
 And he saw our forces vanquished, 
 
 Sadly fleeing from their post. 
 
 Next he saw Augusta captured, 
 
 For the British won the day; 
 But at length, although they conquered, 
 
 They were slowly drawn away. 
 Yet our men took post below it, 
 
 And the British gained their rear, 
 While the poor souls fled in frenzy, 
 
 Dying in the marshes near ! 
 
96 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Troops were led to capture Charleston, 
 
 Which had been a favored post; 
 But Prevost now marched to seize it, 
 
 Drawing up his well trained host. 
 But he found our men were stubborn, 
 
 For they would not heed his threat, 
 So he stole away at midnight, 
 
 Creeping off with deep" regret. 
 
 Lincoln bravely drew his forces 
 
 Out to battle with the foe, 
 For among his small detachment 
 
 Men were eager for the blow. 
 So he dashed on Stono Ferry, 
 
 While his troops kept steady pace; 
 Gave them back such deadly battle 
 
 That in fear they left the place. 
 
 Thus, while Georgia was invaded, 
 
 In Virginia war was rife, 
 For the British sent detachments 
 
 Through the land in mortal strife. 
 And they pillaged from the settlers, 
 
 Burned the military stores, 
 Seized their richly laden vessels, 
 
 Left in fear those rifled shores. 
 
 British troops were gaining numbers 
 
 t From the fleets sent o'er the sea, 
 And their shipping seemed exhaustless, 
 
 With the harbors all so free. 
 They commanded all the waters, 
 
 Keeping other ships at bay, 
 While our chief remained defensive, 
 
 Waiting, watching, day by day. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 97 
 
 On the mystic, matchless Hudson, 
 
 Where the rocks rose high in air 
 And the sun, in softest glintings 
 
 Flashed its amber jewels rare — 
 Where the breeze in sweetest rapture 
 
 With the laughing sunbeams joined, 
 In its grim and sullen stillness 
 
 Stood the fort of Stony Point. 
 
 Just across the flashing waters, 
 
 On a point stood La Fayette; 
 But our troops were forced to yield them, 
 
 Though they yielded with regret. 
 Stony Point was soon abandoned — 
 
 La Payette stood firm at first, 
 But at last Sir Henry Clinton 
 
 Through their works in triumph burst. 
 
 Manning both the forts with Britons, 
 
 Clinton turned to other parts, 
 For he hated brave New England 
 
 For her independent charts. 
 Clinton sent his eager forces 
 
 O'er Connecticut's fair coast, 
 And New Haven fell a victim 
 
 To the dreaded British host. 
 
 Next, to Fairfield came the army 
 
 With its fierce and wild intent, 
 Where they forced their way in anger, 
 
 On their demon orgies bent. 
 Public property they wasted, 
 
 Burned the brisk and lovely town, 
 Cursed the pleading, houseless females, 
 
 As they left the ravished ground. 
 
98 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Norwalk shared the fate of Fairfield — 
 
 Greenwich next was all in flames, 
 But the gathering of our forces 
 
 Drove them from their fiendish games. 
 Still, New London claimed their hatred, 
 
 Though they dare not risk a raid, 
 For the men rushed forth to guard it, 
 
 And the boasters' work was stayed. 
 
 This was Tryon, with his minions, 
 
 Who had played this fiendish part, 
 And our Eagle watched him fiercely, 
 
 Deepest vengeance in his heart; 
 He had heard the fearful wailings 
 
 Of the homeless, foodless babes, 
 And he cursed the heartless author 
 
 Of these worse than Indian raids. 
 
 Stony Point again was captured, 
 
 Yet they gave them back the post; 
 They had gained the end desired — 
 
 Drawn back Tryon from the coast. 
 Clinton tried to force a battle, 
 
 Threatening, daring out our men — 
 But our chieftain, safely guarded, 
 
 Dare not risk a battle then. 
 
 Lovell bravely planned a battle 
 
 In Penobscot's lovely bay, 
 Rounding up with jaunty squadron, 
 
 Boldly urging on the fray. 
 But a fortnight's constant booming 
 
 Made no impress on the fort, 
 And assault upon the stronghold 
 
 Only seemed like daring sport. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIE. 99 
 
 But a fleet came down upon him 
 
 Ere the final shock had come, 
 And he fled before the tempest, 
 
 While his heart grew chill and numb. 
 Boats and crew were dashed in pieces, 
 
 Lovell cast 'mid pathless wilds; 
 And the few who with him lingered, 
 
 Famished, worn, through forests filed. 
 
 Major Lee pressed out in secret — 
 
 Charged a post the British held, 
 And so still had been his movements 
 
 That, with force, his onset fell. 
 But, as soon as boomed the cannon, 
 
 Signals flashed from far and near, 
 And he left with scores of captives 
 
 While the hostile coast was clear. 
 
 Eagle saw the troops preparing 
 
 For a deadly frontier war, 
 And he thought of dark Wyoming — 
 
 Saw its deeds enacted o'er ! 
 Daring men went out to fight them, 
 
 Who were met with boldest front, 
 But the red men left, discouraged, 
 
 All too weak to bear the brunt. 
 
 Pulaski, Lincoln and D'Estaing 
 
 Hurled their armies, strength and fleet 
 Toward reducing proud Savannah, 
 
 For Prevost still held the seat. 
 Long and sharp the cannonading, 
 
 But at length they stormed the town; 
 Yet the fierce, unequal struggle 
 
 Cut our gallant soldiers down. 
 
100 THE KING OF THE AIE. 
 
 Days and days had thus been wasted, 
 
 And our men had died by scores; 
 Still Savannah stood the tempest, 
 
 Though it came with fearful force. 
 Sadly was the battle yielded — 
 
 Sadly pressed the grim retreat, 
 While D'Estaing, sailing westward, 
 
 Met a storm which swept his fleet. 
 
 O'er Savannah Eagle lingered, 
 
 Circling sadly 'round the slain 
 Lying there, their upturned faces 
 
 Spattered o'er with dark red stains. 
 If i)'Estaing, in his hurry 
 
 Could have brooked a slow approach, 
 Lips that now lay still and speechless 
 
 Might have breathed a victor's notes. 
 
 But, to counteract his sorrows 
 
 Came the news from Colonel White, 
 Who, with only six bold comrades, 
 
 Charged a camp, one autumn night. 
 Scores of lights at first he kindled, 
 
 Cried "surrender!" which was done; 
 And the force thus strangely captured 
 
 Was one hundred forty one! 
 
 But the British forces centered 
 
 In one grand, decisive siege, 
 Which, for months and months was forming, 
 
 On the land, and o'er the seas; 
 All the while our army weakened — 
 
 Men, discouraged, left the field — 
 Others, 'neath the royal urging, 
 
 Helped the cause, when thus appealed. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 101 
 
 Charleston was a post they needed — 
 
 And their plans were deeply laid; 
 So, by safe and slow approaches, 
 
 They, for months, sure progress made. 
 Lincoln sent his scouts appealing 
 
 For assistance in the fort, 
 But the men, so oft defeated, 
 
 Sick of war, would not report. 
 
 Troops now gathered close about them, 
 
 Yessels drew in triumph 'round — 
 Moultrie, once so well defended, 
 
 Other occupants had found. 
 Lincoln's parties — guarding passes — 
 
 Soon were routed and dispersed, 
 And 'twas plain the storm approaching 
 
 O'er their heads would shortly burst. 
 
 Stout resistance gave our soldiers, 
 
 Though besieged on sea and land; 
 But at length our meager forces 
 
 Yielded to the stern command. 
 Men were dead and dying 'round them — 
 
 Guns dislodged and ramparts torn — 
 While the soldiers, nearly foodless, 
 
 Were, from hardships, deeply worn. 
 
 Eagle viewed with deep dejection 
 
 Charleston's fall 'neath British arms, 
 For the country lying 'round it 
 
 Soon would throb with dread alarms. 
 Well he knew the sun of Freedom 
 
 Once so bright would darkly wane, 
 Should our southern army perish 
 
 And the soil the British gain. 
 
102 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Now, to quell the stubborn forces 
 
 Clinton ordered out his troops — 
 Striking boldly through the country, 
 
 Spreading o'er the sea his sloops. 
 This he thought would awe the people, 
 
 And submission thus be gained; 
 But it only served to weaken 
 
 Deeply forged and galling chains. 
 
 Tarleton marched his legion outward, 
 
 Bound for Colonel Buford's camp, 
 Where he met the gathered soldiers, 
 
 With their ardor sadly damped; 
 On he led his ranting demons, 
 
 Cutting down with ruthless hand. 
 And, though hard they begged for quarters, 
 
 Slaughtered soldiers strewed the land. 
 
 Eagle sailed around in anguish, 
 
 Swooping down in wild despair, 
 With his heart all torn and bleeding 
 
 Like the heroes struggling there. 
 Tarleton '« quarters! Yes, such quarters 
 
 As the fiends might blush to own! 
 Somewhere, in the distant future 
 
 Tarleton ] s quarters might come home! 
 
 Now was shown the love of Freedom 
 
 Which was felt throughout the south, 
 For, though Britons ruled the country, 
 
 Yaliant men still pressed about. 
 British rules had forced submission, 
 
 But at heart their cause was dear; 
 And the insults and oppressions 
 
 Of the British brought no fear. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 103 
 
 Colonel Sumpter, who had suffered 
 
 Outrage deep from royal bands, 
 Gathered 'round him scores of patriots 
 
 Battling fiercely through the land. 
 From their tools they forged their weapons, 
 
 Made their balls of pewter plates, 
 And, though sometimes roughly beaten, 
 
 Beat them back, with double rates. 
 
 Shortly after Charleston yielded 
 
 Clinton heard — from o'er the sea — 
 That a large French fleet was coming, 
 
 Which would battle for the free; 
 So he led his forces outward — 
 
 Left Cornwallis at the fort — 
 Marched in splendor through the country. 
 
 As if born and bred at court. 
 
 Gates came onward with his army, 
 
 And the patriots joined his band; 
 But Cornwallis marched to meet them 
 
 As they crossed a marshy land. 
 Well he knew, this battle yielded, 
 
 All the south would rise in arms; 
 So he charged, and won the contest, 
 
 Patriots fleeing in alarm. 
 
 Brave DeKalb alone stood firmly, 
 
 And resisted to the last; 
 But the hero dropped in battle 
 
 As he bravely onward dashed. 
 Wounds were thick about his person, 
 
 And he shortly passed away, 
 While the twilight settled calmly 
 
 O'er his cold and lifeless clay! 
 
104 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Eagle's life had almost left him, 
 
 "Watching o'er such fearful deeds, 
 And his heart, so lately buoyant, 
 
 Sadly wept o'er Freedom's needs. 
 Must this struggle feed oppression? 
 
 Or, would-Freedom win at last? 
 Were the sad and doubtful questions 
 
 That our Eagle often asked. 
 
 O'er the seas Paul Jones had skirmished, 
 
 Gaining laurels for his skill, 
 Beating off huge British frigates — 
 
 Taking prizes with a will. 
 Swift Bon Homme Hi chard served him 
 
 As a brave, determined slave — 
 Dashing o'er the tossing waters, 
 
 Undismayed by wind or wave. 
 
 But at last a grim fate met her, 
 
 And she sank to peaceful rest; 
 And the billows rolled above her, 
 
 As her shattered form they pressed ! 
 But the Serapis was captured, 
 
 And Paul Jones had won his fame, 
 Ere the traitor's hand had struck her 
 
 With its bold and deadly aim! 
 
 Clinton hastened to the Hudson 
 
 When he left the southern States, 
 And he settled down inactive, 
 
 In suspense to watch and wait. 
 Now the French might come upon him, 
 
 All his guns were trim and free; 
 So he waited, idly listening 
 
 To the moaning of the sea. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 105 
 
 But at length this quiet galled him — 
 
 He was thirsting for a fight ; 
 Then he took a strong detachment, 
 
 Marching out in conscious might. 
 Springfield lay in quiet beauty 
 
 As they dashed upon the town, 
 But an obstinate resistance 
 
 From the outposts, cut them down. 
 
 They retreated for a moment, 
 
 And our forces manned the hill; 
 Here they dare not march against them, 
 
 Though the town they shortly filled. 
 Clinton sent the flames careening 
 
 Through the homes which bloomed around, 
 Marched away across the Jerseys, 
 
 Leaving woe where joy was found. 
 
 Though the fleet came o'er the Ocean, 
 
 No brave action was commenced ; 
 So the troops — for winter quarters — 
 
 To the Jersey lines were sent. 
 But our Eagle hovered southward, 
 
 Where the British pushed their raids, 
 Who, like fiends, still harrassed settlers, 
 
 Crushed their wives and tender babes. 
 
 For a time this carnage lasted — 
 
 Settlers fleeing for their lives — 
 With their whole possessions wasted 
 
 By the demons' bloody knives. 
 But there came a check upon them, 
 
 For the frontier settlers clanned, 
 And together met the British 
 
 With a strong and stalwart band. 
 
106 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Ferguson, through North Carolina 
 
 Gaining troops, had now been sent, 
 Calling out the loyal subjects — 
 
 Robbing foemen as he went; 
 'Gainst him bold and stalwart settlers 
 
 Like avenging angels came, 
 And they met him in the forest 
 
 Where, from trees they took their aim 
 
 British troops gave fearful battle, 
 
 But these hunters closed them in ; 
 "When one band was driven backward. 
 
 Others would the strife begin. 
 But a ball now pierced the leader, 
 
 And his men laid down their arms, 
 While the pioneers marched homeward, 
 
 Welcomed back by love's sweet charms. 
 
 Morgan sent a party outward 
 
 Who, at Clermont tried a ruse; 
 Only small arms had they with them, 
 
 Which would prove of little use. 
 But they turned a pine log toward them, 
 
 Which for cannon had to serve, 
 And their summons for surrender 
 
 Was obeyed without a word. 
 
 Next, to Ninety-six he sent them, 
 
 And surprised the forces there, 
 Colonel Washington, as leader, 
 
 Coming up all unaware. 
 Scores of men were killed and wounded, 
 
 And they fiercely seized the rest; 
 While, by growing bands of settlers 
 
 British troops were sorely pressed. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 107 
 
 Sumpter still their outposts harrassed — 
 
 Marion led a bold force out. 
 Who, attacking small detachments, 
 
 Put the foe again to rout. 
 If pursuit he feared would find him, 
 
 Backward to the swamps he fell, 
 Hiding in the dark recesses 
 
 That our Eagle loved so well. 
 
 But their chief, to stop forever 
 
 All disturbance from our men, 
 Sent out Tarleton with his demons, 
 
 Ripe for conquest once again. 
 Morgan was so brave and dauntless 
 
 That they longed to cut him down ; 
 So the j pressed their forces forward 
 
 O'er the sadly wasted ground. 
 
 Morgan knew his force was trifling 
 
 By the side of Tarleton's horde, 
 And he feared the van would reach him 
 
 Ere he crossed Broad river ford; 
 So he massed his troops at Cow Pens — 
 
 Firmly met the vaulting foe — 
 For his matchless Continentals 
 
 Sternly caught the fearful blow. 
 
 'Neath their firm and stout resistance 
 
 Britons shortly broke and fled; 
 Morgan followed up his triumphs, 
 
 Though his men had freely bled. 
 But they took five hundred prisoners, 
 
 All their wagons, horses, stores, 
 Dashed away in hasty marches 
 
 'Till they readied Catawba's shores. 
 
108 THE KING OF THE AIE. 
 
 Onward, 'till the stream was forded, 
 
 Sure his troops would be pursued; 
 Morgan knew, though badly beaten, 
 
 Tarleton's force was not subdued. 
 If Cornwallis — waiting somewhere — 
 
 Gained the news of his defeat, 
 He would send a force to crush him 
 
 Ere his troops could make retreat. 
 
 Gates had been relieved from duty; 
 
 Greene held now the whole command, 
 And he quickly rushed to Morgan 
 
 O'er a dismal waste of land. 
 On the night that Morgan crossed it, 
 
 Dark Catawba's waters rose, 
 And Cornwallis, as he neared it, 
 
 Saw the fates had interposed. 
 
 Yet the waters soon subsided 
 
 And Cornwallis passed the ford, 
 Driving back those sent to guard it, 
 
 With his fierce and angry horde. 
 But our forces gained upon them, 
 
 Nearing where the Yadkin flows, 
 And they crossed the river quickly, 
 
 When again the water rose. 
 
 But Cornwallis was determined 
 
 On a battle with our force, 
 And he traversed miles of marshes 
 
 Ere he crossed the swollen course. 
 Then he strove to press the battle 
 
 Ere Virginia's soil was gained, 
 But they reached the Dan and crossed it, 
 
 And his efforts were in vain. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 109 
 
 Eagle sailed above the soldiers 
 
 With his heart in mortal fear, 
 For he thought the foe would reach them, 
 
 Now the van had come so near. 
 But the drenching rain had saved them — 
 
 They had gained a safe retreat, 
 Where the weary, toil-worn soldiers 
 
 Bathed their gashed and bleeding feet. 
 
 Lee and Pickens led their forces 
 
 Out to harrass Tarleton's band, 
 Which was out enlisting soldiers 
 
 For the welfare of the land! 
 They were training at Hillsborough — 
 
 Pickens charged, with deadly blows — 
 What escaped were killed by Tarleton, 
 
 For he deemed them all his foes. 
 
 Greene at length recrossed the river, 
 
 And at Peedy Fork took post; 
 There Cornwallis swiftly hastened, 
 
 While the fog concealed his host. 
 Sharp and fierce the brief encounter, 
 
 And our men were driven back; 
 But pursuit was not attempted 
 
 O'er the wild, uneven track. 
 
 Greene now gained fresh re-enforcements, 
 
 And a battle shortly planned 
 Which in woe surpassed all others, 
 
 Striking terror through the land. 
 All his force was closely stationed 
 
 On the hill, with forests crowned, 
 Waiting, back of Guildford court-house 
 
 For the foe to reach the ground. 
 
110 THE KING OF THE AIE. 
 
 On they charged, and stern and fearful 
 
 Was the storm and shock that fell, 
 And otir men were slowly driven, 
 
 Though a part sustained it well. 
 Yet, though charged, and charging fiercely, 
 
 For awhile they held the field; 
 Then came terror — and the forest 
 
 Only seemed a partial shield. 
 
 Side by side, in writhing anguish 
 
 Friend and foe alike were thrown, 
 And the heart grew sick with horror, 
 
 Pierced by curse, and shriek, and groan. 
 All night long it rained in torrents 
 
 On their poor, unsheltered forms, 
 And the ground was soaked and flooded 
 
 From the fearful, blinding storms. 
 
 Eagle strove to shut his hearing — 
 
 Strove his agony to drown 
 By a sweeping, surging circle 
 
 O'er the crimson flooded ground; 
 Angels stooped from shores elysian — 
 
 Bathed in tears, and wild with woe — 
 Stooped and gathered up their darlings, 
 
 Leaving lifeless forms below. 
 
 Greene sent outward small detachments, 
 
 Swooping down on British posts, 
 While his army marched toward Camden, 
 
 And Cornwallis toward the coast. 
 Lee and Marion reached Fort Watson, 
 
 Swiftly built a breastwork near — 
 Stormed the fort, which humbly yielded, 
 
 For the storming was severe. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIE. Ill 
 
 Rawdon, in command at Camden 
 
 Knew that Greene would try his strength, 
 And he called for re-enforcements, 
 
 That were sent to him, at length. 
 General Greene, to intercept them 
 
 Marched his force to Hobkerk's hill, 
 Hoping there to win the contest, 
 
 Leaving Rawdon helpless still. 
 
 Eawdon heard of Greene's decision — 
 
 Planned a secret meeting there — 
 Marched his troops in triumph forward, 
 
 Coming up with stealthy care. 
 Greene, surprised, was still undaunted, 
 
 Though his troops at last gave way ; 
 Then the battle turned against him 
 
 And Lord Rawdon won the day. 
 
 Back to Camden drew Lord Rawdon, 
 
 Knowing Greene was not subdued ; 
 Then he burned the town and left it, 
 
 Thus still fostering the feud. 
 He had found the foe were closing 
 
 Slowly, surely, 'round his post, 
 And he knew his chance was waning 
 
 For a safe march to the coast. 
 
 Under Marion, Lee and Sumpter 
 
 Was a brave, determined host ; 
 And they kept up ceaseless warfare 
 
 Down the Santee to the coast. 
 On the Congaree they skirmished — 
 
 On Black river gained a fort, 
 And the posts were all invested 
 
 By this stern and stalwart horde. 
 
112 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Clarke and Pickens, like those others, 
 
 Kept the foe in constant fear, 
 For they rose as if by magic, 
 
 When there seemed no danger near. 
 Stores were captured, forts invested — 
 
 Bands compelled to give up arms — 
 And the settlers prayed for freedom 
 
 From the woe of war's alarms. 
 
 Lee and Pickens joined their forces 
 
 In a slow and measured march, 
 And Augusta was the object, 
 
 Which must meet their deadly darts. 
 All those forces gathered 'round her, 
 
 And the siege was fierce and hot; 
 But at length the British yielded 
 
 'Neath the deadly stream of shot. 
 
 Greene to Ninety-six now hastened, 
 
 And at once commenced the siege, 
 While the soldiers gained his plaudits 
 
 For their brave and daring deeds. 
 Close they pressed upon the fortress, 
 
 But the men refused to yield; 
 And for days the cannon's booming 
 
 Wildly through the forest pealed. 
 
 Long and obstinate the battle, 
 
 And our men were gaining ground, 
 But Lord Pawdon came to meet them, 
 
 Bravely fought, and saved the town. 
 Greene retreated from the contest, 
 
 Making marches swift and long, 
 And he gained a place of safety, 
 
 Though pursued by Kawdon's throng. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 113 
 
 Bawdon feared another battle 
 
 If he lingered at this post, 
 So he left it,. and retreated 
 
 To a station near the coast. 
 Greene's brave troops, all worn and weary, 
 
 Crossed the placid Congaree, 
 Where the} 7 rested from their labors 
 
 On the hills of fair Santee. 
 
 Ere they crossed the placid river 
 
 Towns and forts had met their doom; 
 Marion, Lee and Sumpter joining, 
 
 Bringing death, despair and gloom. 
 At Monk's corner stores were taken. 
 
 Men and horses met their fate; 
 And those stern and valiant heroes 
 
 Won their foemen's bitter hate. 
 
 Now the soldiers' rest was peaceful 
 
 'Neath the woods on Santee's hills, 
 For the banks were thronged with blossoms, 
 
 Down the slopes ran scores of rills. 
 Through the heat of summer sunbeams 
 
 Lingered they in placid rest, 
 Watching dawn burst o'er the forest — 
 
 Twilight gather in the west. 
 
 When at length their rest was over, 
 
 They were sent to Eutaw Springs ; 
 Where the British met them firmly, 
 
 Strong in center, ilank and wings. 
 Bravely fought both sides, and boldly, 
 
 But our men at last gave way, 
 And the British, though they claimed it, 
 
 Scarcely won the bold affray. 
 
114 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Greene marched out upon Dorchester — 
 
 Fought, and gained the post with ease, 
 While the heroes under Pickens 
 
 Marched against the Cherokees. 
 Indian war-whoops rang out boldly, 
 
 Victim's cries were all in vain, 
 But brave Pickens stilled the war-cry 
 
 Which had brought such fearful pain. 
 
 While the south was thus invested, 
 
 In the north the sky was black; 
 For the troops were poor and ragged, 
 
 And the pay was dull and slack. 
 Congress could not raise the money, 
 
 And a mutiny was planned, 
 Only quelled, at length, by payment 
 
 Of a part it owed the band. 
 
 Arnold, now a vengeful traitor, 
 
 Through Virginia swept his way, 
 Seizing stores and rifling homesteads, 
 
 Holding fierce and lordly sway. 
 Once so brave and strong for Freedom, 
 
 Bribes had turned his faithless heart; 
 And his name brought deepest terror 
 
 As he swept that tranquil part. 
 
 Washington, in hopes to check him, 
 
 In his fearful, fiendish course, 
 Sent out LaFayette to Eichmond 
 
 With a small, yet daring force. 
 Then Corn wall is joined with Arnold, 
 
 Rushed to Richmond with his horde, 
 But the Marquis hastened from it 
 
 As the British through it poured. 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 115 
 
 Albemarle was now invested, 
 
 British forces drawing near; 
 But the stores the town still boasted 
 
 LaFayette held wondrous dear. 
 Britons guarded all the passes, 
 
 But the Marquis, bound to win, 
 Cleared a road, and passed unnoticed, 
 
 Safely, swiftly marching in. 
 
 Thus Cornwallis missed the booty 
 
 Which his plans had well-nigh won, 
 And he drew away his forces 
 
 'Neath the early morning sun. 
 LaFayette marched out behind him, 
 
 Skirmished sharply on the way, 
 But lie dare not risk a battle, 
 
 Lest the foe should win the day. 
 
 Arnold's fiendish troops still reveled 
 
 In a carnage foul and dark — 
 Pressing on with double numbers, 
 
 Leaving foemen stiff and stark. 
 Then Cornwallis, camped at Yorktown, 
 
 Sent out bands, on forage bound, 
 While he placed redoubts" and fieldworks 
 
 Strongly guarded, o'er the ground. 
 
 Strong French fleets had crossed the Ocean, 
 
 Bringing troops who braved the storm, 
 And our men received them gladly, 
 
 Weak, discouraged, and forlorn. 
 Washington now met the leader, 
 
 And they planned a daring scheme — 
 Drew their armies off to Yorktown, 
 
 While the fleet sailed up the stream. 
 
116 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Count de Grasse the fleet commanded, 
 
 And the French force on the land 
 Under Rochambeau were marshalled, 
 
 Joined with Washington's command. 
 Closely round the fort they gathered — 
 
 Threw up breastworks in the night, 
 And Cornwallis, at the dawning 
 
 Saw no hope, except in flight! 
 
 Long and fierce the siege at Yorktown, 
 
 Though no help could reach the post, 
 For the place was all invested 
 
 By a grand, determined host! 
 Yet Cornwallis thought to pass them, 
 
 And at night his troops embarked; 
 But a storm came o'er the waters, 
 
 Vengeful, riotous and dark ! 
 
 Eagle flitted o'er and o'er them, 
 
 Filled with triumph, eager, wild ! 
 For he saw no help could reach them, 
 
 Since our men so closely filed. 
 Gloucester Point was also fated. 
 
 For they hemmed the two forts in, 
 And the daring, allied forces 
 
 Eagle knew would surely win. 
 
 Firm, unflinching were the leaders, 
 
 And the men drew deadly aim 
 'Till the works were torn and shattered, 
 
 And a white flag outward came! 
 Terms were offered, and accepted, 
 
 And the men laid down their arms, 
 "While Cornwallis, deeply humbled, 
 
 Yielded up his choicest charms ! 
 
THE KING OF THE AIR. 117 
 
 Consternation spread through England 
 
 "When they heard of Yorktown's fall, 
 For they deemed Cornwallis peerless, 
 
 Yet there came this fearful pall! 
 But the news of their disaster 
 
 Told them Congress was not dead ; 
 And they saw no way to conquer, 
 
 Though their best men fought and bled! 
 
 People cr~ed for peace and quiet, 
 
 'Till the clamor reached the king; 
 Then a peace was put in progress 
 
 Which would independence bring! 
 Independence to those brave ones 
 
 Who had sternly fought the foe — 
 Who had suffered toils and hardships 
 
 In the midst of deepest woe. 
 
 Yorktown proved the last encounter, 
 
 Save a skirmish now and then, 
 But the troops remained inactive 
 
 While a treaty Britain penned. 
 This for months and months was pending 
 
 In the courts beyond the sea, 
 But at last peace was concluded, 
 
 And America was free ! 
 
 Peace at last! No more sad marches, 
 
 No more weary, toilsome raids; 
 But the gory, ghastly hillsides 
 
 Silent loomed o'er glens and glades. 
 Peace was won ! And high in Heaven 
 
 Eagle's silver crest was poised > 
 While he gazed o'er free Columbia! 
 
 Land where centered all his joys! 
 
118 THE KING OF THE AIR. 
 
 Peace was won! His work was ended, 
 
 And he proudly cleft the air, 
 While his heart went out in rapture 
 
 Toward the land to him so fair! 
 Once again he longed to wander, 
 
 Happy, careless, as of yore, 
 Ere the sound of carnage echoed 
 
 Fiercely out from shore to shore. 
 
 Thought he of the gentle love-notes 
 
 That came breathing on the air, 
 As the beck threw up her rainbows 
 
 'Neath the boughs that whispered there; 
 Of the bright-hued, tempting blossoms 
 
 Who looked up from beds of moss, 
 As they shook the r trembling petals — 
 
 Light and fair as silken floss. 
 
 Voices long unheard seemed calling, 
 
 And he longed to greet his loves! 
 Longed to catch their gentle glances 
 
 As they watched his flight above. 
 Gladly plumed he now his pinions — 
 
 Gazed around with fondest pride — 
 Poised himself aloft and flitted 
 
 Far away from Ocean's tide. 
 
 Back along the frontier pressed he, 
 
 Greeting becks and birds again; 
 Throwing down a wealth of sunlight 
 
 To the deep and tangled glen. 
 Mountain tops once more upheld him — 
 
 Brooklets quenched his eager thirst, 
 And he sported, free and happy 
 
 'Mid the scenes which o'er him burst. 
 
 W 13 
 

 
 
 
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