#black loyalist

I figure we may as well keep going with the established mid-1770's theme, inasmuch as it is possible to do so. In the previous lesson we touched on Black Loyalists and their oft-overlooked role during the American Revolution; for this entry we'll upend that very subject, with a look at the life of James Armistead (later Lafayette). Born enslaved in 1760 Virginia, James Armistead actually enlisted into the Continental Army in 1781 (with the consent of his then-owner). Of all the luminaries to which he could have been attached, it transpired that James was detailed to a unit under no less than the Marquis de Lafayette himself. While the details of the conversations are not recorded, at some point Lafayette persuaded James to work as a spy; his cover would be to pose as a runaway slave who had been hired by the British to spy on the Americans. (Which wouldn't have been the slightest bit unusual!)

During his time in this dangerous dual role, James gained the confidence of British General Charles Cornwallis; to the point where Cornwallis entrusted James to guide British troops through local roads and thoroughfares. James overheard many conversations amongst the British officers, many of whom who had no compunction about openly boasting about their plans in his presence. James surreptitiously handed off his written notes to other American spies and remained undercover in Cornwallis's camp for nearly two years. While there were other spies operating in Cornwallis's purview, none were able to deliver nearly as much tactical intelligence as James --a detail that was even noticed by Gen. George Washington. James's last field report of July 31, 1781 helped Lafayette trap the British at Hampton, which is widely accepted as the lead-in to the eventual British surrender at Yorktown.

After the war Lafayette had made a point of publicly praising James Armistead for his bravery and dedication, but he had already returned to his life as a slave as, due to fine-print quibbles, was not eligible for emancipation as he had not technically served as a soldier. To his credit Lafayette spent the next two years seeking out information on Armistead, and finally found him in 1784. Disappointed to learn James had returned to enslavement, Lafayette again spoke out on his behalf, this time directly to the Virginia General Assembly, who eventually emancipated him --a full two years later. Armistead took on the surname Lafayette and moved to New Kent County, where he was not only able to collect a postwar pension, but to eventually obtained 40 acres of farmland and raised a family. He died at home in 1832, at the remarkable age of 72.

I'm guessing your elementary school (or even high school) American Revolution curriculum didn't conspicuously mention James Somerset, but it's important to understand his life and the pivotal role he played in the legal underpinnings of just how American slavery came to be defined, and moreover how it was set apart from English case law. Born in West Africa sometime in 1741, Somerset was captured by British slave traders in 1749, and sold in the then-colony of Virginia, to one Scottish merchant named Charles Stewart. In 1764 Stewart moved to Boston to take a position as a Customs official, and brought Somerset with him. In 1769 Stewart moved to London and again brought Somerset with him.

Significantly Somerset was baptized on February 10, 1771 into the Church of England; legally recorded, and with witnesses and three specifically-named godparents. This specific detail is key to the broader legal understanding, as baptism was commonly associated with manumission --though in England it was more of a time-honored custom than it was any legal precedent or framework. Nevertheless in October of that same year, Somerset declared himself free and left Stewart's service.

Somerset's liberty was short-lived; a mere year later in 1771, he was kidnapped and forced aboard a slave trading vessel, to be sold in Jamaica. This is where his legal godparents stepped in and filed a habeas corpus case, which led into Somerset v. Stewart, 98 ER 499. Somerset was transported back across the Atlantic and presented before the King's Bench Court, and after a year of legal wrangling from a number of then-well-known lawyers like Granville Sharp (and a great deal of public attention, on both sides of the Atlantic!), in May of 1772 Chief Justice Lord Mansfield ruled that: the act of bringing a slave to England but then shipping that slave elsewhere for resale, represented a "high act of Dominion" that "must be recognized by the laws of the country where it is used." Essentially Mansfield's reasoning was that since there never had been a legal basis for slavery, neither in English common law nor in statutory law, that the practice was therefore unlawful and that Somerset must therefore be freed. In fact Lord Mansfield even took it an unexpected step further when he pronounced the institution of slavery "is of such a nature that it is incapable of being introduced on any reason, moral or political, but only positive law which preserves its Force long after the reasons, occasion, and time itself from once it was created, is erased from memory. It is so odious that nothing can be suffered to support it, but positive law."

The case was ultimately a narrow ruling and had truly been decided entirely on legal technicalities, fine print, and precedent... but it also constituted a considerable moral victory, particularly in light of Mansfield's opinion that the entire practice was based on flimsy precepts that should have frankly been dumped centuries ago. While the ruling certainly did not end the practice of slavery in England outright --nor did it affect the status quo of any English colony or territory, nor the actual slave trade itself-- it was the first case of its kind to recognize slavery's inherent wrongness: clearly signalling that this was not an issue that could be deferred indefinitely.

The decision is also widely considered to be a precursor to Dunmore's Proclamation of 1775, and certainly laid sufficient groundwork for the role of Black Loyalists during the Revolution. Yet at the same time, the Somerset ruling also more comfortably brought the subject of abolition into everyday American colonial discourse, which gained further traction over the course of the Revolution (and may have even informed Thomas Jefferson's own famously-deleted slavery abolition clause from the Declaration of Independence (see Lesson #15 in this series). And after ratification, four of the new U.S. states (Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, and newcomer Vermont) promptly encoded abolition directly into their respective state constitutions, again citing Somerset v. Stewart as the underlying framework.

Now let's talk about an actual Black Loyalist. Meet Boston King, born enslaved in (or around) 1760 in South Carolina. Significantly, King's parents were first-generation slaves (meaning, kidnapped and brought over from Africa). Both were literate and ensured that their son would also become so. Ostensibly apprenticed as a carpenter, as King would later tell it, his particular owner was so harsh and cruel with his punishments (floggings) that one instance left him unable to work for three weeks. During the Revolution, King stole ("borrowed") a horse and slipped away from his owner, pledging loyalty to the British near Charleston, undertaking dangerous missions on behalf of Captain Grey of the New York Volunteers, which was a Loyalist regiment from Nova Scotia. King later made his way to New York --the last American port to be evacuated by the British-- and while there he met Violet, another former South Carolina slave who had also joined the British side with the promise of freedom. After the Revolution, Boston and Violet were given certificates of freedom for their service to the British crown. Along with nearly 3,000 other Black Loyalists who had risked severe punishment and even execution during the war, they were evacuated and resettled in British-held Birchtown, Nova Scotia.

(This was neither a smooth nor a guaranteed process --Gen. George Washington had been negotiating firmly with the outgoing British commander-in-chief over the fate of Loyalist slave refugees, perhaps mindful of the vulnerability of his own "assets." [See Lesson #123 in this series!] Persistent eleventh-hour rumours that negotiations might fail and that the former slaves might yet be deported back to their former owners brought considerable anxiety; in King's words, "For days, we lost our appetite for food and sleep departed from our eyes.")

Now married to Violet and resettled in Birchtown, King honed his trade as a master carpenter and was also ordained as a Methodist minister. Unfortunately farming conditions in Nova Scotia were notoriously poor those years --in some instances bordering on outright famine-- and in 1792 the Kings decided to take advantage of a long-standing British offer to move to the newly-founded Province Of Freedom (later Sierra Leone), an established community for freed Blacks. The Kings were among the first (of approx. 1,200) settlers in what would become known as Freetown, although Violet died of malaria soon after they had arrived.

At the behest of the Sierra Leone Company, King was trained in London for two years as a teacher and missionary, and then returned to Freetown in 1796 to dust off his preaching skills --language barriers be damned. At some point during his time in London he penned his autobiography, Memoirs of the Life of Boston King, which would eventually see publication in serial form in 1798 in Wesleyan Methodist Magazine. The publication is significant because it was one of the very first written narratives of American slave life to see print --preceding Frederick Douglass's seminal work by nearly 50 years. At one point while in London King preached to a white congregation and reflected upon this in his memoir: "I found a more cordial love to the White People than I had ever experienced before. In the former part of my life I had suffered greatly from the cruelty and injustice of the Whites, which induced me to look upon them, in general, as our enmies (sic): And even after the Lord had manifested his forgiving mercy to me, I still felt at times an uneasy distrust and shyness toward them; but on that day the Lord removed all my prejudices."

The period of the American Revolution does not afford many accounts of individual rank and file soldiers’ exploits, particularly on the side British side. The filing of some 80,000 pension applications in the United States makes it much easier to learn of a soldier’s activities during the war, whether it be the mundane task of guard duty or the dangers of battle. There was no equivalent pension for British or Provincial veterans. The British method of reward was meant for long-serving or wounded soldiers of the army. Those so “recommended” received the benefit of the Chelsea Hospital in London, where a veteran could be an out-pensioner and simply receive a stipend living somewhere on his own, or an in-pensioner, residing at the hospital, complete with rations, clothing and lodging. Pensioners could also be called upon again for military service, typically in “invalid companies” serving in a fortress or garrison town somewhere in Great Britain, and typically for a limited duration.

In addition to soldiers of the established regiments of the British Army, Chelsea also admitted militia, new-raised British corps (regiments raised after the start of the war and disbanded at its conclusion) and in some cases Provincials (regiments raised in America consisting primarily of Loyalists). Between the years 1778 and 1784, some 10,834 soldiers were admitted as out-pensioners, the vast majority at the end of the war, when there was a general reduction in the size of the army.[1] Scattered among the pensioners were a small number of Provincial soldiers, including twenty-two men of the Queen’s Rangers. Ten more of the Rangers were admitted over the next five years.

The Queen’s Rangers was one of the first Provincial regiments raised in the New York City area upon the arrival of the British forces there in July 1776. The corps was initially commanded by Lt. Col. Robert Rogers, the famed ranger commander from the French and Indian War.[2] Rogers gathered a number of diverse characters together to raise the companies that would compose the corps, including Robert Cook, a Loyalist from Wrentham, Massachusetts, who found himself (briefly) a prisoner of the rebels just three days after hostilities commenced at Lexington and Concord.[3]

The Provincial Forces were soon after put under the supervision of Inspector General Alexander Innes, former secretary to Lord William Campbell, the royal governor of South Carolina. Innes had the unenviable task of regulating what amounted to a small army of amateurs, both soldiers and officers, into something approaching the quality of the British Army. The Provincials were to be paid, armed, clothed, fed and disciplined in the same manner as the Regulars, which led Innes to observe on March 14, 1777: “Negroes, Mulattoes, Indians and Sailors, have been enlisted, shall they be discharged, and orders given none in future be admitted?” The answer was an unequivocal yes, commanding they “be discharged and none to be hereafter enlisted on any account.”[4]

For the Queen’s Rangers, this was just one in a series of events that completely altered the corps late that winter. Unhappy with Robert Rogers and the bulk of his officers, Alexander Innes, with the blessing of the commander in chief of the British Army in America, Sir William Howe, set about replacing Rogers and his officers.[5] Among those affected was Capt. Robert Cook, one of the ousted officers, and his men, apparently all black. The point may have been virtually moot, if a deserter’s description from March 2, 1777 was accurate: “Captn. Cook’s Company of Negroes are (all but three or four) dead.”[6]

The changes led to a series of new commanders for the Rangers, all British Army officers, culminating in October 1777 when John Graves Simcoe, an officer “with Confessed Ability, & very distinguished Honor” was appointed commandant.[7] Simcoe, only twenty-five years old when he took command, had arrived in America in 1775 as a lieutenant in the 35th Regiment before being promoted to a captaincy in the 40th Regiment. By the summer of 1778, the new British commander in chief had promoted him to lieutenant colonel, back-dating his commission to July 1, 1776 so as to give seniority over all other Provincial officers of that rank.[8] Simcoe was clearly a rising star in the British Army.

Under Simcoe’s command and active leadership, the Queen’s Rangers would see extensive service on the outposts of the British Army, particularly in Westchester County, New York, and in New Jersey. The corps also grew and expanded in scope, adding a troop of cavalry along with light artillery and riflemen, making it a formidable corps of light infantry. The Rangers under Simcoe took part in such actions as the Battle of Monmouth and in repelling General Lord Stirling’s attack on Staten Island; they set sail in April 1780 to take part in the final stages of the Siege of Charleston, South Carolina.[9]

Arriving towards the end of operations (the city surrendered to the British on May 12, 1780), there was little for Simcoe and his men to do but await further orders and explore the countryside. Simcoe wrote to his friend John André, “We hunt & barbecú in a grove of laurels to morrow, I wish business would permit you to partake of what I expect a novel Pleasure.”[10] In addition to fine dining, Simcoe and his men secured several black slaves from the plantations and ranks of the enemy. “I understand Mrs. Elliot is to apply to the Comr. in Chief for four Negro boys now with the Queens Rangers, & I think it necessary to explain to this matter,” Simcoe once again wrote to André, continuing “The Boys are Taylors & Musicians, & are at this time clothed in the Rebel Artillery Uniform, which her Husband commanded.”[11] This was no doubt a reference to the late Lt. Col. Barnard Elliott, commander of the 4th South Carolina Regiment, an artillery unit.

Simcoe found use in other former slaves as well, most notably for intelligence gathering. One unnamed young African American was sent by Simcoe to André to be de-briefed; Simcoe wrote to André, the deputy adjutant general, “I send you a very intelligent Negro Boy, within the Circle of his knowledge — When you dismiss him I will be obliged to you to pass him to the Quarter House, as I mean to keep him.”[12]

So who were these young former slaves collecting around Simcoe, and what role could they play in an organization like the Queen’s Rangers that was officially barred from enlisting blacks as soldiers? The muster rolls of the regiment may provide some answers. In the Provincial Forces, muster rolls were made out once every sixty-one days and were created for the purpose of paying soldiers. The rolls themselves listed all the soldiers by company, noting things such as dates of enlistment and casualties (deaths, desertions, and discharges) over that period. Regrettably, the muster period covering the return of the corps to New York, April 25 to June 24, 1780, does not appear to exist. The one immediately after, however, seems to include some of the men alluded to by Simcoe. While blacks were not allowed to bear arms, some few did serve in other capacities: principally as pioneers (unarmed military laborers) and as drummers or musicians. Each company of men had at least one drummer, often two, with perhaps some fifers. Their job was to communicate signals to the troops in camp, on the march and in battle. Comparing the rolls from before and after the siege, new drummers appear on the rolls with names that suggest they may be among the men Simcoe mentioned to André.

One new drummer appeared in Capt. John Saunders’ company, listed as “John Carolina.” Other than an annotation that he was born in America, no personal information was listed.[13] Capt. McCrea’s company had two new drummers, both Americans, Richard Lockerman and Barney Hartley.[14] The company commanded by Capt. James Kerr had one as well, but being absent sick and not mustered, was listed simply as “A Black Musician Name Not remembered.”[15] Andrew Ellis, another American-born drummer, was listed in Capt. Stair Agnew’s company.[16] Perhaps most interesting was the Highland Company under Capt. John Mackay, who added a hornsman or “clarinet” by the name of Sampson.[17] Were all these drummers black? Perhaps, perhaps not. They do appear to have included the captured slaves of the Ellis family, not all of whom worked out in their new capacity. Captain Kerr eventually remembered that his drummer’s name was Hector Young, “A Black boy intended for the Musick; but found unfit & taken from the Strength 16 Sept. 1780.”

Were these all of them? Apparently not.

A 1789 certificate from Lieutenant Colonel Simcoe sheds light on the subject, but also some confusion: “That the negroes Barney and Andrew served as Bugle Horns in the Queen’s Rangers, from the Siege of Charlestown to the disbanding of that Corps. That Andrew is in Nova Scotia & Barney in London & upon Col. Simcoe’s Enquiry of him, he said, that both Andrew & himself belonged to Mr. [John] Izard, who at the Time they joined the Queen’s Rangers, was aid du Camp to the Rebel General [Isaac] Huger.”[18] Andrew was indeed Andrew Ellis, who at the end of the war was a trumpeter in Capt. David Shank’s troop of light dragoons in the Queen’s Rangers.[19] The corps had undergone a major expansion starting in 1780, with new troops of light dragoons (cavalry) being raised by Captains John Saunders, David Shank, and Thomas Ives Cooke; later they added a troop of hussars formerly commanded by Capt. Frederick de Diemar.[20] If what Simcoe stated was accurate, that Ellis and Barney had been the property of John Izard and not the Elliotts, they could not have been among the four boys mentioned to André as being used as musicians. And who was Barney?

The certificate referenced above, dated February 25, 1789, appears to coincide with a request made by Simcoe to the War Office on March 20 following. The Queen’s Rangers, along with four other Provincial battalions, were made regular regiments of the British Army on December 25, 1782, so there was no question that, as British soldiers, men of the Queen’s Rangers were eligible for Chelsea pensions provided they met the accepted criteria.[21]

Determining the identity of Barney took some sleuthing, aided by Simcoe’s letter to the War Office recommending the young black trumpeter:

Sir, B E Griffiths has applied to me for his Discharge from the Queens Rangers. The Particulars of his Situation I take the Liberty of Submitting to you, & entreating the Protection of the War Office on his behalf. He joined the Queens Rangers at The Siege of Charles Town, & was very useful as a Guide; He served as a Dragoon & was frequently distinguished for his Bravery & Activity—in particular at the action near Spencer’s Ordinary, by his presence of mind when sentinel, He was principally concerned in betraying the Enemy into an unfavourable [situation], & in the consequent Charge of Cavalry was distinguished by Fighting hand to hand with a French Officer who commanded a Squadron of the Enemy & taking him Prisoner. When the Cavalry afterwards charged the Rebel Infantry, He by his gallantry preserved the Life of his Captain & was severely wounded. His Activity had made him so remarkable That I personally interfered with The Baron Steuben at the Surrender of York Town to obtain that He might not risk the Hazard of being sent Prisoner into the Country—& had I been with The Regiment when it was disbanded, I should have felt it my Duty to have recommended him as a proper Object for his Majesty’s Bounty of Chelsea, not having that Power, I humbly hope that you will direct him to be examined; in particular, as being a Loyal Negro, He has no other means of reaping the Protection his Services in The Opinion of Every Officer of the Corps as well as mine most amply merit. I have the honor to be Sir, your most obt. & most Humble St. J G Simcoe Lt. Coll. Comdt. (late) Q Rangers[22]

By Simcoe’s statement above, this young man had clearly joined the Rangers at the Siege of Charleston, which coincides nicely with his correspondence with André and certificate from the previous month. But was “B E Griffiths” actually Barney? Simcoe himself provided the answer, by writing both this certificate and his book, A Journal of the Operations of a Partizan Corps called the Queen’s Rangers, in which he described in detail the terrific fighting that took place on June 26, 1781 at the Battle of Spencer’s Ordinary, Virginia. If the actions mentioned in Simcoe’s letter to the War Office were indeed that conspicuous, the accounts should likewise be in his published account of the battle. And they were.

While Simcoe’s narrative of the battle is quite lengthy, as the bloody action that day was quite complicated, it is necessary here to only cover the relevant passages. At this point in the war, the Queen’s Rangers were a part of the army serving under Lieutenant General Lord Cornwallis, which was just then occupying Williamsburg, Virginia. The Queen’s Rangers, along with a small number of New York Volunteers, North Carolinians, and Hessian Jägers, had lagged behind the main army to collect some cattle, giving the main Continental force in Virginia under Maj. Gen. the Marquis de Lafayette an opportunity to attack:

The highland Company of the Queen’s Rangers had been posted in the wood, by the side of the road, as a piquet: a shot or two from their sentinels gave an alarm, and Lt. Col. Simcoe gallopping across the field, towards the wood, saw Capt. Shank in pursuit of the enemy’s cavalry. They had passed through the fences which had been pulled down, as before-mentioned, so that, unperceived by the Highlanders, they arrived at Lee’s farm, in pursuit of the people who were collecting the cattle. Trumpeter Barney, who had been stationed as a vidette, gave the alarm, and gallopped off so as not to lead the enemy directly to where the cavalry were collecting their forage and watering, and, with great address, got to them unperceived by the enemy, calling out “draw your swords Rangers, the rebels are coming.” Capt. Shank, who was at Lee’s farm waiting the return of the troops with their forage, in order to post them, immediately joined, and led them to the charge on the enemy’s flank, which was somewhat exposed, while some of them were engaged in securing the bat-horses at the back of Lee’s farm: he broke them entirely. Serjeant Wright dashed Major Macpherson, who commanded them, from his horse, but, leaving him in pursuit of others, that officer crept into a swamp, lay there unperceived during the action, and when it was over got off. Trumpeter Barney dismounted and took a French officer, who commanded one of the divisions. The enemy’s cavalry were so totally scattered, that they appeared no more: many of them were dismounted, and the whole would have been taken, had not a heavy fire out of the wood, from whence the Highland company were now driven, protected them . . . Cornet Jones, who led the first division of cavalry, was unfortunately killed: he was an active, sensible, promising officer. The mounted riflemen of the Queen’s Rangers charged with Capt. Shank: the gallant Sergeant M’Pherson, who led them, was mortally wounded. Two of the men of this detachment were carried away by their impetuosity so far as to pass beyond the enemy, and their horses were killed: they, however, secreted themselves in the wood under some fallen logs, and, when the enemy fled from that spot, they returned in safety to the corps. By a mistake, scarcely avoidable in the tumult of action, Capt. Shank was not supported, as was intended, by the whole of his cavalry, by which fewer prisoners were taken than might have been: that valuable officer was in the most imminent danger, in fighting his way back through the enemy, who fired upon him, and wounded the Trumpeter Barney and killed some of the huzzars, who attended him.[23]

Without doubt, the person that Simcoe had recommended to the War Office, B E Griffiths, was the same “Trumpeter Barney” described in Simcoe’s Journal. Denied an opportunity to serve as a full-fledged trooper, the young liberated slave capitalized on what opportunity he had by enabling his troop to escape a situation where they were not in a proper fighting posture, capturing an enemy cavalry officer of the 1st Light Dragoons,[24] and saving the life of his troop’s commander, Capt. David Shank.[25]

Did Trumpeter Barney get his pension? Yes indeed. The Chelsea Admission Book for August 5, 1789 records one Barnard E. Griffiths (listed in an earlier entry as “a negro”) admitted to Chelsea on the recommendation of a letter from the Secretary at War. It further added that Griffiths was twenty-six years old in 1789, was a laborer from Charleston, South Carolina, and had been wounded. The one incorrect detail listed, not uncommon in the Chelsea records, was years of service, given as ten.[26] This may have stemmed from the fact that Barney had actually accompanied Simcoe back to England in November 1781 on board the Swallow packet and had never officially received a discharge, although he no doubt stopped receiving pay when the corps was disbanded on October 10, 1783.[27]

While a number of blacks served as drummers, fifers, trumpeters and pioneers in different Provincial units, no other received the sort of commendation written by their commanding officer as Barney did from Simcoe. What other acts of heroism may have taken place, but were not been passed down to us in the annals of history?

SOURCE.

On 20 July 1780, George Washington ordered Anthony Wayne to take the 1st and 2nd Pennsylvania Brigades of the Continental Army, four artillery pieces, and Stephen Moylan's 4th Continental Light Dragoons to destroy a British blockhouse at Bulls Ferry in Bergen Township, opposite New York City. The stockaded position was held by 70 Loyalists - many of them black - commanded by Thomas Ward, providing a base for British woodcutting operations and protection against raids by American militia.

At that time, the British kept cattle and horses on Bergen Neck to the south, within easy reach of foragers from the British garrison at Paulus Hook. A second motive for Wayne's operation was to seize the livestock for the use of Washington's army. Wayne sent his cavalry under the leadership of Harry Lee to round up the cattle, while he took three regiments and the artillery to attack the blockhouse.

Early on 21 July, Wayne bombarded the blockhouse with his four cannons, but an hour later there were no discernible results. After being peppered with accurate fire from the blockhouse, the American soldiers from the 1st and 2nd Pennsylvania Regiments became impatient. Despite their officers' attempts to stop them, the soldiers dashed forward through the abatis to the base of the stockade. Once there, they found it impossible to break into the defensive works, and were forced to retreat.

Wayne reported losses of 15 enlisted men killed, plus three officers and 46 enlisted men wounded. Clinton estimated that Wayne had almost 2,000 troops available. He admitted the loss of 21 casualties and reported that 50 round shot penetrated the blockhouse. In a poetical note at the end of his ballad mocking the battled - The Cow Chace - British Major John  André suggested that five Loyalists were killed.

Five refugees ('tis true) were found, Stiff on the blockhouse floor; But then 'tis thought the shot went round, And in at the back door.

In one stanza, the British major poked fun at American claims that their cannonballs could not damage the blockhouse.

No shot could pass, if you will take The General's word for true; But 'tis a d(amna)ble mistake, For every shot went through.

Lee rounded up a substantial number of cattle and returned them to Washington's camp. Wayne burned the wood-cutters' boats and captured some of the boatmen. From André's fifth stanza, it is clear that Colonel Thomas Proctor commanded Wayne's artillery. Proctor was born in Ireland ("remoter Shannon").

And sons of distant Delaware, And still remoter Shannon, And Major Lee with horses rare, And Procter with his cannon.

André mocked Wayne's subordinate Brigadier General William Irvine, who fought at Bull's Ferry. The British major credited Irvine, misspelled "Irving", with command of the attack on the blockhouse while Wayne and Lee had the easy work of cattle rustling. William Irvine was viciously lampooned by André.

At Irving's nod 'twas fine to see, The left prepare to fight; The while, the drovers, Wayne and Lee, Drew off upon the right.

Two later stanzas made fun of the retreat of Irvine's column.

Irving and terror in the van, Came flying all abroad; And cannon, colors, horse, and man, Ran tumbling to the road.