Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.

On the British Blockade, and Expected Attack on New York

Philip Freneau (1752–1832)

OLD Neversink with bonnet blue,

The present times may surely rue

When told what England means to do;

Where from the deep his head he rears

The din of war salutes his ears,

That teased him not for thirty years.

He eastward looks towards the main

To see a noisy naval train

Invest his bay, our fleets detain.

What can be done in such a case?—

His rugged heights the blast must face,

The storm that menaces the place.

With tents I see his mountain spread,

The soldier to the summit led,

And cannon planted on his head:

From Shrewsbury beach to Sandy Hook

The country has a martial look,

And Quakers skulk in every nook.

What shall be done in such a case?

We ask again with woful face,

To save the trade and guard the place?

Where mounted guns the port secure,

The cannon at the embrasure,

Will British fleets attempt to moor?

Perhaps they may—and make a dash

To fill their pockets with our cash—

Their dealings now are rather harsh.

They menace to assail the coast

With such a fleet and such a host

As may devour us, boil’d or roast.

Their feelings are alive and sore

For what they got at Baltimore,

When, with disgrace, they left the shore,

And will revenge it, if they can,

On town and country, maid and man;

And all they fear is Fulton’s plan;

Torpedoes planted in the deep,

Whose blast may put them all to sleep,

Or ghostify them at a sweep.

Another scheme, entirely new,

Is hammering on his anvil too,

That frightens Christian, Turk and Jew.

A frigate, mounting thirty-six!—

Whoe’er with her a quarrel picks

Will little get but cuffs and kicks.

A frigate meant to sail by steam!—

How can she else but torture them,

Be proof to all their fire and flame!

A feast she cooks for England’s sons,

Of scalded heads and broken bones,

Discharged from iron-hearted guns.

Black Sam himself, before he died,

Such suppers never did provide;

Such dinners roasted, boil’d, and fried.

To make a brief of all I said,

If to attack they change blockade,

Their guard-ships shall be well repaid

With water scalding from the pot,

With melted lead, and flaming shot,

With vollies of—I know not what.

The British lads will be so treated:

Their wooden walls will be so heated,

Their ruin will be soon completed.

Our citizens shall stare and wonder—

The Neversink repel their thunder,

And Cockburn miss a handsome plunder.