Burgoyne Monologue from The Battle of Bunkers-Hill

From The Battle of Bunkers-Hill by H. H. (Hugh Henry) Brackenridge

male · defiant · 1:19 min

How long, brave gen'rals, shall the rebel foe, In vain arrangements, and mock siege, display Their haughty insolence?--Shall in this town, So many thousands, of Britannia's troops, With watch incessant, and sore toil oppress'd, Remain besieg'd? A vet'ran army pent, In the inclosure, of so small a space, By a disorder'd herd, untaught, unofficer'd. Let not sweet Heav'n, the envious mouth of fame, With breath malignant, o'er the Atlantic wave Bear this to Europe's shores, or tell to France, Or haughty Spain, of LEXINGTON'S retreat. Who could have thought it, in the womb of time, That British soldiers, in this latter age, Beat back by peasants, and in flight disgrac'd, Could tamely brook the base discomfiture; Nor sallying out, with spirit reassum'd, Exact due tribute of their victory? Drive back the foe, to Alleghany hills, In woody valleys, or on mountain tops, To mix with wolves and kindred savages.

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