Poems of American Patriotism Part 4

THE LITTLE BLACK-EYED REBEL

WILL CARLETON

[Sidenote: Between Sept. 26, 1777, and June 17, 1778]

_The heroine's name was Mary Redmond, and she lived in Philadelphia. During the occupation of that town by the British, she was ever ready to aid in the secret delivery of the letters written home by the husbands and fathers fighting in the Continental Army._

A boy drove into the city, his wagon loaded down With food to feed the people of the British-governed town; And the little black-eyed rebel, so innocent and sly, Was watching for his coming from the corner of her eye.

His face looked broad and honest, his hands were brown and tough, The clothes he wore upon him were homespun, coa.r.s.e, and rough; But one there was who watched him, who long time lingered nigh, And cast at him sweet glances from the corner of her eye.

He drove up to the market, he waited in the line; His apples and potatoes were fresh and fair and fine; But long and long he waited, and no one came to buy, Save the black-eyed rebel, watching from the corner of her eye.

"Now who will buy my apples?" he shouted, long and loud; And "Who wants my potatoes?" he repeated to the crowd; But from all the people round him came no word of a reply, Save the black-eyed rebel, answering from the corner of her eye.

For she knew that 'neath the lining of the coat he wore that day, Were long letters from the husbands and the fathers far away, Who were fighting for the freedom that they meant to gain or die; And a tear like silver glistened in the corner of her eye.

But the treasures--how to get them? crept the question through her mind, Since keen enemies were watching for what prizes they might find: And she paused a while and pondered, with a pretty little sigh; Then resolve crept through her features, and a shrewdness fired her eye.

So she resolutely walked up to the wagon old and red; "May I have a dozen apples for a kiss?" she sweetly said: And the brown face flushed to scarlet; for the boy was some what shy, And he saw her laughing at him from the corner of her eye.

"You may have them all for nothing, and more, if you want," quoth he.

"I will have them, my good fellow, but can pay for them," said she; And she clambered on the wagon, minding not who all were by, With a laugh of reckless romping in the corner of her eye.

Clinging round his brawny neck, she clasped her fingers white and small, And then whispered, "Quick! the letters! thrust them underneath my shawl!

Carry back again _this_ package, and be sure that you are spry!"

And she sweetly smiled upon him from the corner of her eye.

Loud the motley crowd were laughing at the strange, ungirlish freak, And the boy was scared and panting, and so dashed he could not speak; And, "Miss, _I_ have good apples," a bolder lad did cry; But she answered, "No, I thank you," from the corner of her eye.

With the news of loved ones absent to the dear friends they would greet, Searching them who hungered for them, swift she glided through the street.

"There is nothing worth the doing that it does not pay to try,"

Thought the little black-eyed rebel, with a twinkle in her eye.

MOLLY MAGUIRE AT MONMOUTH

WILLIAM COLLINS

[Sidenote: June 28, 1778]

_The battle of Monmouth was indecisive, but the Americans held the field, and the British retreated and remained inactive for the rest of the summer._

On the b.l.o.o.d.y field of Monmouth Flashed the guns of Greene and Wayne.

Fiercely roared the tide of battle, Thick the sward was heaped with slain.

Foremost, facing death and danger, Hessian, horse, and grenadier, In the vanguard, fiercely fighting, Stood an Irish Cannonier.

Loudly roared his iron cannon, Mingling ever in the strife, And beside him, firm and daring, Stood his faithful Irish wife.

Of her bold contempt of danger Greene and Lee's Brigades could tell, Every one knew "Captain Molly,"

And the army loved her well.

Surged the roar of battle round them, Swiftly flew the iron hail, Forward dashed a thousand bayonets, That lone battery to a.s.sail.

From the foeman's foremost columns Swept a furious fusillade, Mowing down the ma.s.sed battalions In the ranks of Greene's Brigade.

Fast and faster worked the gunner, Soiled with powder, blood, and dust, English bayonets shone before him, Shot and sh.e.l.l around him burst; Still he fought with reckless daring, Stood and manned her long and well, Till at last the gallant fellow Dead--beside his cannon fell.

With a bitter cry of sorrow, And a dark and angry frown, Looked that band of gallant patriots At their gunner stricken down.

"Fall back, comrades, it is folly Thus to strive against the foe."

"No! not so," cried Irish Molly; "We can strike another blow."

Quickly leaped she to the cannon, In her fallen husband's place, Sponged and rammed it fast and steady, Fired it in the foeman's face.

Flashed another ringing volley, Roared another from the gun; "Boys, hurrah!" cried gallant Molly, "For the flag of Was.h.i.+ngton."

Greene's Brigade, though shorn and shattered, Slain and bleeding half their men, When they heard that Irish slogan, Turned and charged the foe again.

Knox and Wayne and Morgan rally, To the front they forward wheel, And before their rus.h.i.+ng onset Clinton's English columns reel.

Still the cannon's voice in anger Rolled and rattled o'er the plain, Till there lay in swarms around it Mangled heaps of Hessian slain.

"Forward! charge them with the bayonet!"

'Twas the voice of Was.h.i.+ngton, And there burst a fiery greeting From the Irish woman's gun.

Monckton falls; against his columns Leap the troops of Wayne and Lee, And before their reeking bayonets Clinton's red battalions flee.

Morgan's rifles, fiercely flas.h.i.+ng, Thin the foe's retreating ranks, And behind them onward das.h.i.+ng Ogden hovers on their flanks.

Fast they fly, these boasting Britons, Who in all their glory came, With their brutal Hessian hirelings To wipe out our country's name.

Proudly floats the starry banner, Monmouth's glorious field is won, And in triumph Irish Molly Stands beside her smoking gun.

SONG OF MARION'S MEN

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT

[Sidenote: 1780-1781]

_While the British Army held South Carolina, Marion and Sumter gathered bands of partisans and waged a vigorous guerilla warfare most hara.s.sing and destructive to the invader._

Our band is few, but true and tried, Our leader frank and bold; The British soldier trembles When Marion's name is told.

Our fortress is the good greenwood Our tent the cypress-tree; We know the forest round us, As seamen know the sea.

We know its walls of th.o.r.n.y vines, Its glades of reedy gra.s.s, Its safe and silent islands Within the dark mora.s.s.

Woe to the English soldiery, That little dread us near!

On them shall light at midnight A strange and sudden fear: When, waking to their tents on fire, They grasp their arms in vain, And they who stand to face us Are beat to earth again.