Chapter 21

Bunker's-Hill._

LORD BOSTON, ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE, ELBOW ROOM, MR. CAPER, GENERAL CLINTON, EARL PERCY.

LORD BOSTON. I fully expected, with the help of the last reinforcement you brought me over, and the advice and assistance of three accomplish'd and experienc'd Generals, I should have been able to have subdued the rebels, and gain'd immortal laurels to myself--have return'd to Old England like a Roman Consul, with a score or two of the rebel Generals, Colonels and Majors, to have grac'd my triumph.

ELBOW ROOM. You have been vastly disappointed, sir--you must not look for laurels (unless wild ones) nor expect triumphs (unless sham ones) from your own victories or conquests in America.

LORD BOSTON. And yet, not more disappointed than you, sir--witness your thrasonical speeches on your first landing, provided you had but elbow room--and Mr. Caper too, to bring over Monsieur Rigadoon, the dancing-master, and Signor Rosin, the fiddler forsooth; he thought, no doubt, to have country danc'd the rebels out of their liberty with some of his new cuts--with his soft music to have fascinated their wives and daughters, and with some of 'em, no doubt, to have taken the tour of America, with his reg'ment of fine, sleek, prancing horses, that have been feeding this six months on codfish tails; he thought to have grown fat with feasting, dancing, and drinking tea with the Ladies, instead of being the skeleton he now appears to be--not to mention any thing of his letter, wherein he laments Tom's absence; for[9] "had Tom been with him (he says) he wou'd have been out of danger, and quite secure from the enemy's shot."

PERCY. I think, Gentlemen, we're even with you now; you have had your mirth and frolic with us, for dancing "Yankee Doodle," as you called it, from Lexington.--I find you have had a severer dance, a brave sweat at Bunker's Hill, and have been obliged to pay the fiddler in the bargain.

CLINTON. However, Gentlemen, I approve (at proper seasons) of a little joking, yet I can by no means think (as we have had such bad success with our crackers) that this is a proper time to throw your squibs.

LORD BOSTON. I grant you, sir, this is a very improper time for joking; for my part, I was only speaking as to my own thoughts, when Mr. Elbow Room made remarks, which he might as well have spared.

ELBOW ROOM. I took you, sir, as meaning a reflection upon us for our late great loss, and particularly to myself, for expressing some surprise on our first landing, that you should suffer a parcel of ignorant peasants to drive you before 'em like sheep from Lexington; and I must own I was a little chagrin'd at your seeming so unconcern'd at such an affair as this (which had nearly prov'd our ruin), by your innuendoes and ironical talk of accomplish'd Generals, Roman Consuls and triumphs.

LORD BOSTON. My mentioning accomplish'd Generals, surely, sir, was rather a compliment to you.

ELBOW ROOM. When irony pass current for compliments, and we take it so, I shall have no objection to it.

MR. CAPER. The affair of Lexington, My Lord Boston, at which you were so much affrighted (if I am rightly inform'd), was because you then stood on your own bottom, this of Bunker's Hill you seem secretly to rejoice at, only because you have three accomplish'd and experienc'd Generals to share the disgrace with you, besides the brave Admiral Tombstone--you talk of dancing and fiddling, and yet you do neither, as I see.

LORD BOSTON. And pray, sir, what did you do with the commission, the post, the Duke of Grafton gave you, in lieu of your losses at Preston election, and the expenses of your trial at the king's bench for a riot, which had emptied your pockets?--Why you sold it--you sold it, sir--to raise cash to gamble with.----

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Damn it, don't let us kick up a dust among ourselves, to be laugh'd at fore and aft--this is a hell of a council of war--though I believe it will turn out one before we've done--a scolding and quarrelling like a parcel of damn'd butter whores--I never heard two whores yet scold and quarrel, but they got to fighting at last.

CLINTON. Pray, Gentlemen, drop this discourse, consider the honour of England is at stake, and our own safety depends upon this day's consultation.

LORD BOSTON. 'Tis not for argument's sake--but the dignity of my station requires others should give up first.

ELBOW ROOM. Sir, I have done, lest you should also accuse me of obstructing the proceedings of the council of war.

MR. CAPER. For the same reason I drop it now.

LORD BOSTON. Well, Gentlemen, what are we met here for?

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Who the devil shou'd know, if you don't?--damn it, didn't you send for us?

LORD BOSTON. Our late great loss of men has tore up the foundation of our plan, and render'd all further attempts impracticable--'t will be a long time ere we can expect any more reinforcements--and if they should arrive, I'm doubtful of their success.

CLINTON. The provincials are vastly strong, and seem no novices in the art of war; 'tis true we gain'd the hill at last, but of what advantage is it to us?--none--the loss of 1400 as brave men as Britain can boast of, is a melancholy consideration, and must make our most sanguinary friends in England abate of their vigour.

ELBOW ROOM. I never saw or read of any battle equal to it--never was more martial courage display'd, and the provincials, to do the dogs justice, fought like heroes, fought indeed more like devils than men; such carnage and destruction not exceeded by Blenheim, Minden, Fontenoy, Ramillies, Dettingen, the battle of the Boyne, and the late affair of the Spaniards and Algerines--a mere cock-fight to it--no laurels there.

MR. CAPER. No, nor triumphs neither--I regret in particular the number of brave officers that fell that day, many of whom were of the first families in England.

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Aye, a damn'd affair indeed--many powder'd beaus--petit maitres--fops--fribbles--skip jacks--macaronies--jack puddings--noblemen's bastards and whores' sons fell that day--and my poor marines stood no more chance with 'em than a cat in hell without claws.

LORD BOSTON. It can't be help'd, Admiral; what is to be done next?

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Done?--why, what the devil have you done? nothing yet, but eat Paramount's beef, and steal a few Yankee sheep--and that, it seems, is now become a damn'd lousy, beggarly trade too, for you hav'n't left yourselves a mouthful to eat.

[_Aside._]

"_Bold at the council board, But cautious in the field, he shunn'd the sword._"

LORD BOSTON. But what can we do, Admiral?

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Do?--why, suck your paws--that's all you're like to get. [_Aside._] But avast, I must bowse taught there, or we shall get to loggerheads soon, we're such damn'd fighting fellows.

LORD BOSTON. We must act on the defensive this winter, till reinforcements arrive.

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Defensive? aye, aye--if we can defend our bellies from hunger, and prevent a mutiny and civil war among the small guts there this winter, we shall make a glorious campaign of it, indeed--it will read well in the American Chronicles.

LORD BOSTON. I expect to be recalled this winter, when I shall lay the case before Lord Paramount, and let him know your deplorable situation.

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Aye, do--and lay it behind him too; you've got the weather-gage of us this tack, messmate; but I wish you a good voyage for all--and don't forget to tell him, the poor worms are starving too, having nothing to eat, but half starv'd dead soldiers and the ships' bottoms. [_Aside._] A cunning old fox, he's gnaw'd his way handsomely out of the Boston cage--but he'll never be a _wolf_, for all that.

MR. CAPER. I shall desire to be recalled too--I've not been us'd to such fare--and not the least diversion or entertainment of any sort going forward here--I neither can nor will put up with it.

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. I think we're all a parcel of damn'd boobies for coming three thousand miles upon a wild-goose chase--to perish with cold--starve with hunger--get our brains knock'd out, or be hang'd for sheep-stealing and robbing hen-roosts.

LORD BOSTON. I think, Admiral, you're always grumbling--never satisfied.

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. Satisfied? I see no appearance of it--we have been here these twelve hours, scolding upon empty stomachs--you may call it a council of war (and so it is indeed, a war with the guts) or what you will--but I call it a council of famine.

LORD BOSTON. As it's so late, Gentlemen, we'll adjourn the council of war till to-morrow at nine o'clock--I hope you'll all attend, and come to a conclusion.

ADMIRAL TOMBSTONE. And I hope you'll then conclude to favour us with one of them fine turkeys you're keeping for your sea store [_Aside._] or that fine, fat, black pig you or some of your guard stole out of the poor Negroe's pen. As it's near Christmas, and you're going to make your exit--you know the old custom among the sailors--pave your way first--let us have one good dinner before we part, and leave us half a dozen pipes of Mr. Hancock's wine to drink your health, and a good voyage, and don't let us part with dry lips.

_Such foolish councils, with no wisdom fraught, Must end in wordy words, and come to nought; Just like St. James's, where they bluster, scold, They nothing know--yet they despise being told._

[_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[9] See Burgoyne's letter.