Cleave liquid mountains of the foaming flood,
And tinge the billows with the Gallic blood,
A faithful drubbing to their future good.
Bury their squadrons ill in watery tombs;
And when the news unto Versailles it comes,
Let Lewis swear by Gar and gnaw his thumbs.
Oh! ride triumphant o'er the Gallic powers,
And conquer all these cursed foes of ours,
And sweep the ocean with your iron showers.
While all the tribes in Neptune's spacious hall,
Shall stand astonish'd at the cannon ball;
To see such hail-stones down among them fall.
Some of their tribes perhaps are killed dead,
And others in a vast amazement fled,
While Neptune stands aghast and scratch's his head.
My roving muse the surface reach again,
Search every part of the Atlantic plain,
And see if any Gallics yet remain;
And if they do, let British cannon roar;
And let thy thunders reach the western shore.
While I shall strive to rouse her sons once more.
Stephen Tilden.
Active hostilities began early in 1755. On February 20 General Edward Braddock landed at Hampton, Va., and proceeded at once to organize an expedition to march against Fort Duquesne. George Washington, who had already had some bitter experience with the French, was made one of his aides-de-camp. On May 29 the army, with an immense wagon train, began its long journey across the mountains.