What time the sun in zenith glory shone.

And fill’d with golden light the western zone,

Warren, Sir Edward, landed on the shore —

Never such numbers on the sail before —

Gibbs, Lambert, character’d with warriors great, 430

To rule the columns of o’erwhelming weight.

As leaves, innumerous, quiver on the trees —

As swarming multitudes of clustering bees —

As stars in heaven, as sands upon the shore.

So seem th’ invaders from the deep to pour.

Gibbs, in the centre, on the right of Keene,

Marshals his host, who oft the field had seen;

On right of Gibbs, Lambert extends his band,

Than whom, more brave, ne’er trod a foreign land.

Proud in the centre of the crimson lines, 440

The tent of Packingham with splendour shines,

At head of which, a flag-staff mates the skies.

Bearing the Cross to speak to distant eyes.

Now come to Packingham, defeated Keene

Saluted, and commenced with solemn mien:

“Brother of Wellington! my heart gives back —

I know not why, — but sad was the attack —

Yea, thou must hearken, though what I recite,

Should damp thy bosom with the drops of night.

“Scarce had I fix’d my line upon the shore, 450

Giving instructions for the morning hour —

When lo, the enemy, a sudden flood,

Drove in and drew the richest of our blood.

I rallied — fought — but soon my strength gave way —

Such desperate passion urg’d them in the fray.

“The first alarm was thunder mix’d with flame,

From a dark vessel hid upon the stream.

This day, with heated globes, from yonder mound,

We cast her broken through the void profound —

Gibbon expir’d — and with him. hundreds four, 460

While twice that number sprinkled earth with gore.

“Six thousand warriours must have form’d their strength,

To strike such numbers lifeless at their length.

This Jackson seems an eagle on the wing —

Yea, he defies the standards of the king.

We each must watch the movements of his eye,

Or not this host will yield us victory.

He now with art is labouring to defend

The pass, — through which the city we must bend.

“And now would I in confidence propose 470

To move upon them and with bayonet close.

Early, at dawn, ere they their works complete,

I’d charge upon them, and their lines defeat.

Sustain my legions with proportion might,

I’ll mount the ramparts and their prospects blight.”

Thus Packingham: “With pride of heart, I hear,

Though struck with sudden death in night severe.

Your soul is rous’d to wipe away the stain,

And the past glory of your arms maintain.

Strengthen your veterans. — In the blaze of day, 480

Teach them to die, when we commence the fray.

And should your effort need increase of power,

Gibbs will advance — his name, a bulwark tower.

“Let Jackson, or ten thousand Jacksons join.

The whole must kneel, when men like you combine.

Turn, bend your strength against their dexter wing,

Bearing in front the standard of the king!”

His thoughts were full of conquest. Keene obeys —

Numbers his host, and one by one surveys,

Sees each is furnish’d for the enterprise, 490

To storm at Jackson, when the day should rise.

At every step, he feels his impulse large —

And whispers to himself: “Now mine’s the charge!”

So, thus a stately bull, subdu’d in fight.

Stung with reproaches, meditates at night

His absent enemy — he braves the flood,

Hardening his strength to do the work of blood —

He paws the earth — he grinds his pointed horns

On flinty rocks — and drives through wounding thorns.

He bellows to the blast — he snuffs the wind, 500

And stands and triumphs in his mighty mind:

Such were the feelings in the breast of Keene,

As with his passion, he inflam’d his men.

While this transpir’d, the patriotick band

Incessant labour’d to defend the land.

Plauche, and Daquin, and Lacoste retain,

With Ross, the right position of the plain.

Carroll’s division in the centre stand —

And Coffee on the left maintains the land.

Patterson, Cowley, late of Caroline, 510

And Cormac, fair in youth, their strength combine,

Th’ unfinished batteries on the right to form

To show a bold resistance in the storm.

And now, the starry eyes of heaven burn clear,

Looking with melting love from sphere to sphere.

Clouds swim loose — floating on the breath of night,

Touch’d with the silver of the moon’s soft light.

Like angel spirits, when they sail around

To bear some message with delicious sound,

Sweet-breathing to the stars. But now, behold, 520

Like breath they vanish from the star of gold —

The last, but loveliest of the train of night, —

Soft it approaches with delicious light,

Trembling and flushing through the cedars green,

Like some fair maid half willing to be seen.

Soon as the star of morning gilds the skies,

Kcene’s crowded columns for the combat rise.

Slow, as in martial pomp they press the road,

The herald bombs with fiery trains explode.

Ready for war, his ship had Tompson sprung — 530

Sublime his cannon speak with death’s deaf tongue!

Yet pause they not, though ranks on ranks are broke —

Not death disturbs them by his voice, or look!

From bulwarks half complete the Patriots aim,

And strike the enemy with solid flame.

Gibbs marks the conflict — rushes to the scene,

A full division to support of Keene.

And now firm-wedg’d the boast of England stand,

Though hundreds fall and eat the bloody sand.

The line of Jackson burns like heaven on fire — 540

Albion’s like Hecla, when its flames aspire.

Clark, Churchill, Shannonhouse, Bray, Clinton, Knight,

And other names, fall blasted in the fight.

Lo, Henderson, the pride of Carroll’s force,

Is stopp’d amid the glory of his course.

An envious bullet fasten’d on his eyes,

Whose flash was lightning to his enemies.

As some tall ash, which oft had brav’d the blast,

Rent by a whirlwind, is destroy’d at last —

Its branches bent awry — its verdure fled — 550

So on the cold earth lies the warrior’s head.

For hours twice three and seven, the Albions strive

To force the battle and the Patriots drive —

But so exhausting is the Jackson fire,

Through walks of blood disaster’d they retire.

But Packenham, who frequent death had seen,

Is not discourag’d by defeat of Keene —

It only rous’d his myriads to display

A greater courage at the next essay.

He gives instructions to his chiefs around, 560

Ready to hearken and obey the sound:

“For two succeeding days we’ll mound the earth,

But on the next we’ll move for conquest forth.

And when we strike, we’ll strike the blow unknown,

When half their eagle watchfulness has flown.

“During the night preceding of the fray,

Gibbs, Thornton, secret with pioneers away,

And, near their right position, batteries raise,

Prepared at signal to elance the blaze.

Lambert, whose bosom’s fountain in the storm 570

Chafes like the Clyde when swell’d in wildest form,

Lead your battalions to the left extreme,

And let your fires the highest heavens inflame.

Thus at the moment we their flanks shall down —

And then, triumphant, we approach the town!”

This order having pass’d, they file away,

And every part implicitly obey:

For two succeeding suns they mound the heath,

To guard the sudden breaking in of death.

But in the darkness of the third deep night, 580

Thornton and Gibbs raise bulwarks on the right,

And as the morn the face of ocean streaks

With purple light, their new-made thunder breaks.

Lambert, his squadrons urges with a press

To humble Coffee into littleness.

While this was done, no time the Patriots lost.

To make secure against the kingly host,

Their labours of defence. With joy they hear,

Kentucky hastening to relieve them near.

Lo, at the signal, when the blast begun, 590

Instant each heart was melted into one!

Coffee at Lambert pours a fiery stream,

Yet firm he stands, and wakes the battle’s flame.

At length so wide, so withering is his loss —

Full many a silver life is turn’d to dross.

He reels, gives way — breaks — scatters o’er the field —

And forth the works of Gibbs and Thornton yield.

And Patterson’s, and Cowley’s cannon soon,

Sweep them away before the time of noon.

The pride of Albion in the dust is low, 600

To be thus handled by their western foe —

Men, late from managing the simple plough.

Yet Packingham reveal’d no look dismay’d —

His columns squar’d, he this exclaiming, said:

“Erect your souls beyond these trials past!

By slow approaches, they’ll resign at last.

Something to warm this icy feeling, now.

Will soon remove this dampness from the brow.

Ere long, we’ll find them, careless of their guard —

Then ample will the day our toils reward. 610

Disaster, frequent, in the end is best.

Where the soul scorns to be by fate depress’d.

Our loss will make them vain of their success,

And cause them soon to lose their watchfulness.

Perchance they now may laugh upon our power,

By which, we’ll conquer in a happy hour.

“Hence, for the time, defensive we’ll remain,

And, when unlook’d for, burst upon the plain.”

The columns heard, and to their tents repair’d,

And tliere, oblivious, on their luxuries far’d — 620

The palsy of their hearts remove with wine,

Steeping their troubles in a bath divine.

The bold Kentuckians, marshall’d by Adair,

Land at the city — presently repair

To join with Louisiana, Tennessee,

On death determin’d, or their soils to free

From tread of hostile feet.

When Jackson saw

His brother chief made venerable in war,

He plied the left sharp rowel to his horse,

And met — saluted, and began discourse: 630

“Glad beats my bosom with a sacred glow,

To see a man who oft hath seen a foe.

Thy days of youth were spent in arms with me,

Against the sires of this same enemy.

“Thrice have we met — thrice foil’d their veteran band —

But mark how vast their gathering o’er the land!

Thy sage experience and thy valiant power,

I need, momentous, at this trying hour.

You’ve fought with Shelby, long renown’d in fame.

And caught the manner of his conquering flame.640

“In your defensive line we place our trust.

To guard the soil and bow their heads to dust.

The whole made strong with solid batteries eight,

To mount twice six of heavy-casted weight.

“You, with Kentucky, will the centre hold,

Supporting Carroll, noted for the bold.”

Jackson concluded. And Adair replied:

“My heart delicious throbs with holy tide.

To have the honour to unite with thee,

Whose name will brighten to eternity! 650

“Thy plan defensive is a theme of praise —

Thine every act decisively displays

A soul that burns to live! ’Tis true, I’ve seen

Some little service, when my days were green, —

And had the honour in the present fight,

To war with Shelby for my country’s right.

What little I’ve acquir’d I’ll free impart —

But all thy plans display a perfect art.

Nothing I see to strengthen or amend —

But when complete, secure will they defend 660

The passage from the foe — and lift on high

The eagle — wing of heaven — born Liberty!”

His plume-clad head each to the other bent,

And wheel’d diverse. Adair, with bold intent,

Carroll makes strong — while Jackson through the line

Gives action to the whole — the whole combine

Their labours to perfect — half reeking toil

Through night’s close darkness — half upon the soil,

Their arms beside them, in pavilions rest —

Courage imparting slumber to their breast. 670

During six suns the Albion powers remain

Behind their ramparts listless on the plain —

But on the seventh, fiend Cockburn makes the shore —

Marines five thousand, constitute his power.

Instant the tent of Packenham he seeks,

And, without pausing, to the general speaks,

While Gibbs and Lane, and Thornton, Lambert,Keene,

In their full robes on either hand are seen.

“Briton’s proud Chief! the glory of her throne —

Second in fame to Wellington alone! 680

Hearing disasters had befel your host,

With sorted names I’ve landed on the coast —

Five thousand large in number from the fleet,

To aid your strength the city to defeat.

“I’d not be thought to sway you in command,

Or plan th’ attack to fight upon the land —

But then, a hint remote in season said,

Will not unfrequent help the wisest head.

“I find there’s nothing brings our strength to bear,

As some temptations to salute the fair. 690

By that, at Hampton I the fight acquir’d —

Maddening the blood as though the heart were fir’d.

Beauty and Booty — were the words I chose —

And soon they scatter’d from the field our foes.

“Twice from their lines your veteran powers have fled,

And once, surpris’d in darkness, join’d the dead.

Except that something of the kind be done.

Too soon we cannot from the shores be gone.

If, when you fail’d, their works were incomplete,

What prospect, marshall’d now, your strength to meet?

But let this promise to the troops be made, 701

And at thy feet their standards will be laid.

“We are impatient to behold your Grace,

Install’d the royal Governor of the place,

That we on Charleston may our weapons turn,

And that proud city into ashes burn.”

Cockburn concluded. Packenham replies,

A flush’d excitement quickening in his eyes:

“Terror of ocean! Death upon the tide!

Your thoughts match mine — complete they coincide.

Yes — something must be done. Your plan I’ll try, 711

Soon as new day shall glimmer in the sky.

“Gibbs, in the centre let your name shine forth —

Keene, with the right wing desolate the earth.

Lambert, reserv’d your warriors will remain,

To move, when I shall bid you to the plain.

“Reckless of death must we exert our might,

And blind the Stars in ever-during night!”

His tongue spoke confidence. They file away,

To nerve their columns for the dreadful day. 720

They fix fascines and ladders through the night.

And shells, and rockets, to begin the fight.

Scarce the faint glimmer of the morn was seen,

Casting a doubtful light upon the green.

When Packenham rode forth with feelings proud,

So deep his columns: — Thus with accents loud:

“Firm is the English oak! None — none of earth,

This day obstructs us in our moving forth!

Behold, this day the strife of strifes we end —

Freedom in dust beneath our steel shall bend! 730

Move to the battle with an iron tread,

Should heaven’s artillery burst upon our head!

The man who fights this fight will honour gain —

Till time shall die his memory will remain!

Nor honour’s wreath alone shall deck your brow,

When once ye triumph o’er yon breasted foe;

Let Beauty, Booty, in the city there,

Lighten your souls to strike them in despair.

What spirit — giving charms! — what glorious boon!

Inviting, yielding, in reclining swoon! 740

Spoils, honours, raptures! these — ah, these are yours,

When once ye pass the chain of Jackson’s powers!

How sweet, how tempting is the fruit! — how fair!

Do not your souls seem leaping to be there?

Wind, wind your heart-chords to the tenor strain.

And ye shall be there and the harvest gain.

“The strength is ours to conquer as we go —

Silent at first, but ere you strike the blow.

Shout to the heavens! then, strong with thunder, charge — 749

Booty and Beauty! England and Saint George!”

As heaving clouds roll heavy from the north,

So deep and dreadful move the myriads forth,

Fix’d in their purpose never to return,

Should smiting heaven against their madness burn.

While these events were passing in their lines,

The Jackson army — (finish’d their designs,)

Stood breasted for the storm. Lo, now, in night —

(The same the foe was mustering for the fight,)

Just as day’s harbinger reveals her light,

They hear a bustle in the Albion camp 760

Of neighing horses, and the heavy tramp

Of feet innumerous. Every eye and ear

Is bent with sharpen’d nerve to see, to hear —

Their blood like lightning hurries through their veins,

To learn the tumult gathering on the plains.

As hungry panthers pant to seize their prey,

So pant the Patriots for the closing fray.

Jackson, his soul’s sublimity as fire,

Visits the ranks — flaming their passion higher —

To this, to that, to every part he hies,770

Planning the death of all his enemies.

Now as the morn with doubtful ray appears,

His soul leaps forward to their listening ears:

“Fathers of virgin beauty! Deathless band!

Patriots — defenders of your native land!

The hour hath come your hearts’ best blood to prove —

Deep o’er the plains their swarming thousands move!

Dark-stain’d with acts of infamy they come.

To strike back Freedom from her bosom’d home!

Ruin — spoliations — murky deeds of night — 780

The torch of fire — cold massacres delight!

No beam of honour shines upon their breast —

A cloud of pestilence to blight the West!

Hope withers at their touch — Mercy retires,

Weeping — all the bless’d virtues man desires!

Destruction’s emissaries — suckers of blood —

Their deeds make hell cry out in horrid mood!

Heaven gives them to our deaths! Yes, now’s their doom —

A retribution for their crimes hath come!

Worth, Honour, Justice, Liberty, and Fame — 790

Yea, all on earth that hath a sacred name —

Will aid our efforts this eternal hour,

To hurl defiance on the slaving power!

“Keep lock’d in silence till close sight be given —

Then bare your bosoms! — let your souls reach heaven!”

Lo, while the pouring of his soul went on,

They stood like rocks cemented into one.

They seem’d at times to mount above the spheres,

As though divinity had touch’d their ears!

While rapt in thought, lo. Victory in sight, 800

Descends — in likeness of an eagle’s flight.

Her ivory beak a written scroll contains,

Which smooth unfurls as sails she o’er the plains.

The letters edg’d with gold these words display:

Thy land, Columbia! never shall decay!

Lost in admiring, the defenders stand,

And softly whisper: “God protects the land!”

Now all is silence on the battle heath —

No word, no whisper — solemn, hush’d as death,

The Britons heavy move with darkness slow — 810

Deepening and vast convulsions on their brow!

Behold, the signal given! — a shout resounds

Tearing the centre of creation’s bounds —

Thousands on thousands dreadful join in one,

As though the circle of old Time were done!

So when th’ Infernal with a serpent art,

Struck death’s cold arrow through the human heart,

With smiles to please a ghost — from Eden’s bowers,

He went and gave the triumph to his powers —

His subjects heard — At once the strength of hell — 820

Millions on millions shouted horrible —

Causing the universe of death to shake,

And all the damn’d convulsively to quake:

Like this the shoutings from the host rebound —

The cheek of heaven assaulting with the sound.

The shouting done, they drive along with ire —

Instant the line of Jackson is on fire!

Yet still they press in terrors clad severe —

The mouths of brass peal dreadful through the sphere.

Pale death pursues the sound! still fierce they come,

Reckless of death, which crowds them to the tomb. 831

Balls, rockets stream, shells burst, — mortars explode —

Thunders mix thunders, shaking heaven’s abode:

Thus when creation in crude silence dwelt,

No cheering light, no heat ethereal felt —

Thes un yet travelling in its orbit dark —

When lo, th’ Eternal with a hollow spark,

Touch’d it on fire! A wilderness of flame

Leap’d into life, and fill’d the boundless frame —

Flash’d through the universe. Deep, with a sound 840

Jarring creation from her depths profound,

Thunder’d the conflagrating world. To view the scene,

E’en Spirits crown’d with heaven shrunk back with fearful mien:

So for the given space the scene was grand, —

Like ridge of rocks Columbian warriors stand,

And fill the plains with fire! — Big thunders roll —

The earth seems, loosen’d from its fastenings whole!

Death finds his riot: Packenham, Gibbs, Keene —

A thousand others of their proudest men,

Lie wrapp’d in gore! The vulgar load the plain, 850

Causing the Earth to utter shrieks of pain.

The Mississippi swell’d with curdling blood.

Thickens: — So vast the battle’s magnitude.

It bursts its banks! Thirteen mad lightnings ply —

Thirteen red thunders break along the sky!

The few that dare to live — the remnant few,

Fly from the carnage with their souls struck through —

A whirlwind tempest sweeps them from the shore,

A past the ocean to be heard no more!

The turbulence subsides. Clouds break — behold,860

What scenes of wonder to the sight unfold!

Star-rob’d, Fredonia and her train descend —

What streams of gold upon their paths attend!

Fame, eagle Vict’ry, Independence, Peace,

Compose the circle touch’d with sunbeam grace.

They break in numbers — Hark!

“Columbia — live!

This day to thee eternity we give!

Yea, let the tyrants of the world combine,

Thy Stars shall burn with vital beams divine!

Never this motto — never let it die —

Virtue, bless’d Freedom; — Union, proud Liberty! 871

FINIS.