British officers in garrison at Boston and New York. They possess little merit. We give the PROLOGUE TO ZARA. Spoken by Lord Rawdon, at Boston. In Britain once (it stains the historic page) more. To sooth the times too much resembling those, A call on beauty to conduct the Muse? The adventurous capture of General Prescott at New ort furnished ready material for a popular ballad, which was not lost sight of. Prescott was the commanding officer of the British troops in possession of Newport, and had rendered himself very unpopular by acts of petty tyranny. Lieutenant-Colonel Barton, of the American militia at Providence, determined to take him prisoner. Embarking with a small party of picked men in four whale-boats, they crossed on the night of the tenth of July, 1777, Narragansett bay to the house of a Quaker named Overing, Prescott's head-quarters, about five miles from the town. Gagging the sentinel, they entered the house unperceived, roused Prescott from his bed, and carried him off without giving him time to dress, speed being essential to success in the daring exploit, from the presence of three British frigates in the bay close to the house. The party re The following paragraph from an Tnglish journal of the period furnishes us with some valuable information, hitherto we believe unnoticed, relative to the amateur performances by officers of the any, which appear froin their frequency to have been extremely popular during the British occupancy of our cities. "An American Correspondent says, that the officers of the army in New York, concerned in the management of the theatre, there form a body like any other company of Comedians, and share the profits arising from their exhibitions. To people on this side the water, it may seem mean for British officers to perform for hire; but in New York necessaries are so extremely dear, that an inferior officer, who has no other resources than his pay, undergoes more difficulties than the common soldier; and circumstanced as many brave men now are in America, such an exertion of their talents to increase their incomes deserves the greatest, encouragement."-1781, Upcotts Newspaper Cuttings. A parody on this prologue was published in the Freeman's Journal or New Hampshire Gazette, June 22, 1776. crossed in safety, and conveyed their prisoner to Providence, and thence to Washington's headquarters on the Hudson: Prescott remained a prisoner until the following April, when he was exchanged for General Charles Lee, and returned to his troops in Rhode Island. Barton received a sword, and a grant of land in Vermont, from Congress. He subsequently became involved in legal proceedings in consequence of a transfer of a portion of this tract, and was thrown into prison for debt, where he remained until the visit of Lafayette in 1825, who, hearing of the circumstance, paid the debt and released the old soldier.* The ballad written on the occasion, it is said, was served up to Prescott himself when he returned to his station. The story is thus told : Shortly after his exchange he returned to Rhode Island, and was invited to dine on board the admiral's ship, with many other officers of the highest grade. General Prescott was naturally a haughty, imperious man, and as a commander was very unpopular with his officers and soldiers, and with the citizens of Newport, but a brave and skilful officer. It was often that boys as well as men were sent from the town on board the admiral's ship for any offence, and confined there for some time, by the arbitrary authority of those in power. Martial law was the law of the place. A small lad, about thirteen years of age, was placed in this situation previous to General Prescott's return, and was on board, with many others, at the time the general dined there. He did not know General Prescott. 66 After dinner the wine circulated freely, and a toast and song were repeatedly called for. In the course of the evening the first lieutenant observed to the admiral, who was a real jolly son of Neptune, that "there was a Yaukee lad on board who would shame all the singing." Bring him up here," says Prescott. The boy was accordingly brought into the cabin. The admiral called on him to give them a song. The little fellow, being somewhat intimidated by gold-laced coats, epaulettes, &c., replied, “I can't sing any songs but Yankee songs." The admiral, perceiving that he was embarrassed, ordered the steward to give him a glass of wine, saying, "Come, my little fellow, don't be frightened; give us one of your Yankee songs." General Prescott spoke in his usual haughty, imperious manner, "You d-d young rebel, give us a song or I'll give you a dozen." The admiral interfered, and assured the lad that he should be set at liberty the next day, "if he would give them a song-any one he could recollect." The following doggerel, written by a sailor of Newport, was then given, to the great amusement of the company. 'Twas on a dark and stormy night, And in a whale-boat they set off Who then resided there. Through British fleets and guard-boats strong. Lossing's Field-Book, ii. 75. A tawny son of Afric's race Them through the ravine led, But to get in they had no means Except poor Cuffee's head, Who beat the door down, then rush'd in, "Stop! let me put my breeches on," Then through rye-stubble him they led, And placed him in their boat quite snug, And him they've carried hum." The drums were beat, skyrockets flew, And march'd around the ground they knew, But through the fleet with muffled oars And landed him on 'Ganset shore When unto land they came, Where rescue there was none, A d-d bold push," the general cried, 'Of prisoners I am one.' There was a general shout of all the company during the whole song, and at the close, one who was a prisoner on board at the time, observed, he thought the deck would come through with the stamping and cheering." General Prescott joined most heartily in the merriment. Thrusting his hand into his pocket, he handed the boy a guinea, saying, "Here, you young dog, is a guinea for you." The boy was set at liberty the next morning. This anecdote is often related by an aged gentleman living at Newport.* There is another version thus given in Mrs. Williams's Life of Barton. The day was spent, the evening fair, But they, like hardy sons of Mars, Thus did they cross and march away, On hostile measures bent; McCarty's Songs, ii. 367-369, quoted from Plymouth Memorial, 1885. + This song is still in traditional circulation: A friend had it from an old soldier, who commenced his recitation vigor. ously: The moon shone bright, the night was clear, Young David took this bloody Saul, Go to your king, and to him say, We are indebted to North Carolina "Wood Notes" for the following TRIBUTE TO GENERAL FRANCIS NASH. Genius of Freedom! whither art thou filed? On Bunker's height great Warren is no more; New England's boast, the generous Wooster, slain, The gallant Nash, who, with the fatal wound, 66 Though tortured, welt'ring on the hostile ground, Fight on, my troops," with smiling ardor said, ""Tis but the fate of war, be not dismay’d.” High Heaven ordain'd for great designs this woe, Which, till the destined period, none must know. Heroes of old thus for their country stood, Raised mighty empires, founded with their blood; In this new world like great events must come; Thus Athens rose, and thus imperial Rome. Inscribed to Col. Thomas Clark, of the First North Carolina Battalion, by his friend and most obedient humble servant, ALEX. MARTIN. Camp, near Germantown. Oct. 30, 1777. General Nash was wounded on the fourth, and died on the seventh of October, 1777. Lieut.-Col. Alexander Martin, the author of the lines, at the close of the war became governor of his native state of North Carolina, and afterwards a senator of the United States. Col. Clark succeeded to Nash's command.‡ The unsuccessful attempt, in connexion with the French fleet, to dislodge the British from Newport, in July, 1778, gave occasion to a lively Tory effusion. YANKEE DOODLE'S EXPEDITION TO RHODE ISLAND, BALLAD LITERATURE. They bow'd to him, and he to them, II. Begar, said Monsieur, one grand coup III. So Yankee Doodle did forget The sound of British drum, Sir, How oft it made him quake and sweat In spite of Yankee rum, Sir. IV. He took his wallet on his back, His rifle on his shoulder, And vow'd Rhode Island to attack Before he was much older. V. In dread array their tatter'd crew, Advanced with colours spread, Sir; Their fifes play'd Yankee Doodle doo, King Hancock at their head, Sir. VI. What numbers bravely cross'd the seas, I cannot well determine, A swarm of rebels and of fleas, And every other vermin. VII. Their mighty hearts might shrink they tho't, A plenteous store they therefore brougt VIIL They swore they'd make bold Pigot squeak, So did their good Ally, Sir, And take him prisoner in a week; But that was all my eye, Sir. IX. As Jonathan so much desir'd, To shine in martial story, D'Estaing with politesse retir'd To leave him all the glory. X. He left him what was better yet, At least it was more use, Sir, He left him for a quick retreat, A very good excuse, Sir. XI. To stay, unless he ruled the sea, On islands should not fight, Sir. XII. Another cause with these combin'd, The next event of the war of which we offer poetical commemoration, is the Massacre at Wyoming. The ballad which follows is printed, apparently for the first time, in the Appendix to the History of Wyoming by Charles Miner, where it is stated to have been written soon after the tragedy by "Mr. Uriah Terry, of Kingston.” WYOMING MASSACRE. Kind Heaven, assist the trembling muse, Of poor Wyoming's overthrow, One hundred whites, in painted hue, The last of June the siege began, While many a brave and valiant man Our troops marched out from Forty Fort, Three hundred strong, they marched along, But oh! alas! three hundred men, To meet eight hundred men complete, Four miles they marched from the Fort Too far indeed did Butler lead, To keep a safe retreat. And now the fatal hour is come They bravely charge the foe, Some minutes they sustained the fire, And then they did attempt to fly, With bitter cries and mournful sighs They seek some safe retreat, Run here and there, they know not where, Their piercing cries salute the skies- "And as for you, enlisted crew, We'll raise your honours higher: Then naked in those flames they're cast, Nor son, nor sire, these tigers spare,- Methinks I hear some sprightly youth, His mournful state condole: "But O! there's none to save my life, I little thought I should be brought "I hoped for many a joyful day, "Farewell, fond mother; late I was, Your heart would ache, and even break, "Farewell, indulgent parents dear, I now must die, and here must lie "For O! the fatal hour is come, I see the bloody knife, The Lord have mercy on my soul !" Nor transitory dream. The Forty Fort was the resort, To save them from the cruel rage, Now, when the news of this defeat, You well may know our dreadful woe, A doleful sound is whispered round, The nightly gloom forebodes our doom, How can we bear the dreadful spear, And if we run, the awful gun, Will rob us of our life. But Heaven! kind Heaven, propitious power! He did assuage the savage rage, The gloomy night now gone and past, The sun returns again, The little birds from every bush, With aching hearts and trembling hands Some men were chose to meet this flag, And now poor Westmoreland is lost, But O! they've robbed us of our all, And we'll rejoice and bless the Lord, And now I've told my mournful tale, To help our cause and break the jaws In the same year, appeared from the press of Thomas and Samuel Green, New Haven, a pamphlet entitled Poems, occasioned by several circumstances and reminiscences in the present grand contest of America for Liberty. The author has been ascertained by the Rev. Stephen Dodd, of East Haven church, who has republished the poems,* to have been the Rev. Wheeler Case, pastor of the Presbyterian church of Pleasant Valley, Dutchess courty, New York. He states in his preface that some of the pieces have been written merely for amusement, and others with design to promote the cause of liberty, into whose Treasury he casts his mite in publishing them. They are quaint and spirited expressions of patriotism and piety, mainly elicited by the defeat of Burgoyne. The struggle is symbolized by a contest between the eagle and the crane, in which the latter (in 1776) is hopefully made to come off victorious. The แ tragical death of Miss M'Crea" is celebrated with more feeling than art. In the verses, “An Answer to the Messengers of the Nation," with a text from Isaiah, the writer expresses the not uncommon feeling of the pulpit of those days towards General Washington, who was looked to as a deliverer under the protection of heaven, "the sword of the Lord and of Gideon." We give two passages from this old volume for their earnestness and their historical value. WASHINGTON. Let not my theme by any be abus'd, Tho' Zion's founded, means must yet be us GOD and his people went to war as one. Revolutionary Memorials, embracing Poems by the Rev. Wheeler Case. New York: M. W. Dodd. 1859. t Jer. xlviii. 10. Gideon went forth against a mighty host, Where did he learn this skill, or whence this might? Hail-stones from heaven were sent, and flames of fire. The sun and moon are stopp'd, they cease to run, 'Till Joshua's work is o'er, his work is done. Joshua the hero, and the man of GOD, Rais'd up his eye, his mandate sent abroad, "Till I have crush'd my foes and done JEHOVAH's will. O what a blessing to the States! it is our bliss, THE FALL OF BURGOYNE. Is this Burgoyne, Burgoyne the great, And threaten'd vengeance from the state, Is't he that made the earth to tremble, * General Washington ordered a number of fires to be made, and kept burning till towards day. In the middle of the night he made a forced march to Princeton, where he attacked and took two regiments stationed there. In the morning Howe was preparing to attack Washington, and much elated with expectations of crushing him, sent out his spies to make discoveries; but to his great surprise was soon informed where Washington was, by hearing the heavy cannonade at Princeton. That doth great Babel's king resemble, To Indians he gives stretch no more, His titles he proclaims no more, No more his triumphs spread, Where is his great and mighty host, The sons of Anak, Britain's boast? They caught Burgoyne with all his crew, Great WASHINGTON, that man of might, Unless with speed he takes his flight, W. During this year Rivington's contributors kept up a constant succession of pasquinades. quote a few: NEW YORK, October 24, 1778. INTELLIGENCE EXTRAORDINARY. We learn from Philadelphia, that there was lately exhibited in that city, an admirable Farce called INDEPENDENCE. Who was the author is not positively known. Some people are of opinion, that it is the work of a certain Quack Doctor, called FRANKLIN. Others assert, that it is the joint production of the strolling company by whom it was acted; it is, however, generally allowed, that one Adams gave the first hint, contrived the plot, and cast the parts. It appeared in the exhibition so tragi-comical that the audience were at a loss whether to laugh or cry, they were, however, well pleased with the catastrophe, and joined heartily in the following chorus, which was sung by the excellent actor who played the part of the PRESIDENT. The celebrated Voltaire somewhere relates, that a song was the cause of the REFORMATION in France. SONG. Our farce is now finish'd, your sport's at an end, Derry down, down, hey derry down. Old Shakspeare, a poet who should not be spit on, On this puny stage we have strutted our hour, Derry down, &c. This Devil, you know, out of spleen to the church, |