| I will not defalcate a groat, |
| Nor force his wife to cut his throat; |
| But with his doxy he may stay, |
| And live to fight another day; |
| Drink all the cider he has made, |
| And have to boot, a green cockade. |
| But as I like a good Sir Loin, |
| And mutton chop whene'er I dine, |
| And my poor troops have long kept Lent, |
| Not for religion, but for want, |
| Whoe'er secretes cow, bull or ox |
| Or shall presume to hide his flocks; |
| Or with felonious hand eloign |
| Pig, duck, or gosling from Burgoyne, |
| dare to pull the bridges down, |
| My boys to puzzle or to drown; |
| Or smuggle hay, or plow, or harrow, |
| Cart, horses, wagons or wheelbarrow |
| Or 'thwart the path, lay straw or switch, |
| As folks are wont to stop a witch, |
| I'll hang him as the Jews did Haman ; |
| And smoke his carcase for a gammon. |
| I'll pay in coin for what I eat, |
| Or Continental counterfeit. |
| But what's more likely still, I shall, |
| (So fare my troops,) not pay at all. |
| With the most Christian spirit fir'd, |
| And by true soldiership inspir'd, |
| I speak as men do in a passion |
| To give my speech the more impression. |
| If any should so hardened be, |
| As to expect impunity, |
| Because procul a fulmine, |
| I will let loose the dogs of Hell, |
| Ten thousand Indians, who shall yell, |
| And foam and tear, and grin and roar, |
| And drench their moccasins in gore; |
| To these I'll give full scope and play |
| From Ticonderog to Florida; |
| They'll scalp your heads, and kick your skins, |
| And rip your, and flay your skins, |
| And of your ears be nimble croppers, |
| And make your thumbs tobacco-stoppers. |
| If after all these loving warnings, |
| My wishes and my bowels' yearnings, |
| You shall remain as deaf as adder, |
| Or grow with hostile rage the madder, |
| I swear by George, and by St. Paul, |
| I will exterminate you all. |
| Subscrib'd with my manual sign |
| To test these presents, John Burgoyne |
II. EXTRACT FROM GATES'S AND BURGOYNE'S CORRESPONDENCE.
General Burgoyne had complained of the harsh treatment experienced by the provincial prisoners taken at Bennington, and requested that a surgeon from his army should be permitted to visit the wounded; and that he might be allowed to furnish them with necessaries and attendants. "Duty and principle," he added, "make me a public enemy to the Americans, who have taken up arms; but I seek to be a generous one; nor have I the shadow of resentment against any individual, who does not induce it by acts derogatory to those maxims, upon which all men of honor think alike." In answer to this letter, General Gates, who had just taken command of the American army, said, "that the savages of America should, in their warfare, mangle and scalp the unhappy prisoners who fall into their hands, is neither new nor extraordinary, but that the famous Lieutenant-general Burgoyne, in whom the fine gentleman is united with the soldier and the scholar, should hire the savages of America to scalp Europeans, and the descendants of Europeans; nay, more, that he should pay a price for each scalp so barbarously taken, is more than will be believed in Europe, until authenticated facts shall, in every gazette, confirm the truth of the horrid tale.
"Miss M'Crea, a young lady, lovely to the sight, of virtuous character, and amiable disposition, engaged to an officer of your army, was, with other women and children, taken out of a house near Fort Edward, carried into the woods, and there scalped and mangled in a most shocking manner. Two parents, with their six children, were all treated with the same inhumanity, while quietly resting in their once happy and peaceful dwelling. The miserable fate of Miss M'Crea was particularly aggravated, by being dressed to receive her promised husband; but met her murderer employed by you. Upwards of one hundred men, women and children, have perished by the hands of the ruffians, to whom, it is asserted, you have paid the price of blood."
To this part of his letter, General Burgoyne replied, "I have hesitated, sir, upon answering the other paragraphs of your letter. I disdain to justify myself against the rhapsodies of fiction and calumny, which, from the first of this contest,
