"The Battle of the Kegs." · Curious Questions

In January 1778, while the channel of the Delaware river was nearly free from ice, some Whigs at Bordentown, N. J., sent floating down the river a number of torpedoes in the form of kegs, filled with gunpowder, and so arranged mechanically that they would explode on rubbing against any object. It was hoped that some of these torpedoes would touch a British war vessel at Philadelphia, explode and sink her. One of them, touching a piece of floating ice in front of the city, blew up, and created intense alarm. For twenty-four hours afterward, not a thing was seen floating on the bosom of the river without being fired at by the British on the shore. This amused the Americans greatly, and Judge Francis Hopkinson, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, wrote the following satirical ballad about it:-

Gallants attend, and hear a friend
Trill forth harmonious ditty;
Strange things I'll tell, which late befell
In Philadelphia city.

'Twas early day, as poets say,
Just when the sun was rising,
A soldier stood on a log of wood
And saw a thing surprising.

As in amaze he stood to gaze,
The truth can't be denied, sir,
He spied a score of kegs or more,
Come floating down the tide, sir.

A sailor, too, in jerkin blue,
This strange appearance viewing,
First damned his eyes, in great surprise,
Then said: "Some mischief's brewing!"

"These kegs, I'm told, the rebels hold,
Packed up like pickling herring;
And they're come down t' attack the town,
In this new way of ferrying."

The soldier flew, the sailor, too,
And scared almost to death, sir,
Wore out their shoes to spread the news,
And ran till out of breath, sir.

Now up and down, throughout the town,
Most frantic scenes were acted;
And some ran here and other there,
Like men almost distracted.

Some "Fire!" cried, which some denied,
But said the earth had quaked;
And girls and boys, with hideous noise,
Ran through the streets half naked.

Sir William, he, snug as a flea,
Lay all this time a-snoring;
Now in affright he starts upright,
Awaked by such a clatter;
He rubs both eyes, and boldly cries:-
"For God's sake, what's the matter!'

At his bedside he then espied
Sir Erskine at command, sir.
Upon one foot he had one boot,
And t'other in his hand, sir.

"Arise! arise!" Sir Erskine cries,
"The rebels, more's the pity,
Without a boat, are all afloat
And ranged before the city.

The motley crew, in vessels new,
With Satan for their guide, sir,
Packed up in bags, or wooden kegs,
Come driving down the tide, sir.

Therefore prepare for bloody war;
These kegs must all be routed,
Or surely we despised shall be,
And British courage doubted."

The royal band now ready stand,
All ranged in dread array, sir,
With stomach stout to see it out,
And make a bloody day, sir.

The cannons roar from shore to shore,
The small arms make a rattle;
Since wars began, I'm sure no man
E'er saw so strange a battle.

The rebel dales, the rebel vales,
With rebel trees surrounded,
The distant wood, the hills and floods,
With rebel echoes sounded.

The fish below swam to and fro,
Attacked from every quarter;
"Why, sure," thought they, "the devil's to pay
'Mongst folks above the water."

The kegs, 'tis said, though strongly made
Of rebel staves and hoops, sir,
Could not oppose their powerful foes,
The conquering British troops, sir.

From morn to night, these men of might
Displayed amazing courage,
And when the sun was fairly down
Retired to sup the porridge.

A hundred men, with each a pen
Or more, upon my word, sir,
It is most true, would be too few
Their valor to record, sir.

Such feats did they perform that day
Against those wicked kegs, sir,
That years to come, if they get home,
They'll make their boats and brags, sir.