In Britain's cause, with valor fired, Braddock, unhappy chief! expired, And claim'd a nation's tear; Nor could Oswego's bulwarks stand The fury of a savage band, Though Schuyler's arm was there. Still shall this motley, murderous crew Their deep, destructive arts pursue, And general horror spread? No--see Britannia's genius rise! Swift o'er the Atlantic foam she flies And lifts her laurell'd head! Lo! streaming through the dear blue sky, Great Loudon's awful banners fly, In British pomp display'd! Soon shall the gallant chief advance; Before him shrink the sons of France, Confounded and dismay'd. Then rise, illustrious Britons, rise! Great Freedom calls, pursue her voice, And save your country's shame! Let every hand for Britain arm'd, And every breast with virtue warm'd, Aspire at deathless fame! But chief, let Pennsylvania wake, And on her foes let terrors shake, Their gloomy troops defy; For, lo! her smoking farms and plains, Her captured youths, and murder'd swains, For vengeance louder cry. Why should we seek inglorious rest, Or sink, with thoughtless ease oppress'd, While war insults so near? While ruthless, fierce, athirst for blood, Bellona's sons, a desperate brood! In furious bands appear! Rouse, rouse at once, and boldly chase From their deep haunts, the savage race, Till they confess you men. Let other Armstrongs grace the field! Let other slaves before them yield, And tremble round Duquesne. And thou, our chief, and martial guide, Of worth approved, of valor tried In many a hard campaign, O Denny, warmed with British fire, Our inexperienced troops inspire, And conquest's laurels gain! _Pennsylvania Gazette_, September 30, 1756. Meanwhile things were in a troubled condition in Acadia, where the so-called "French neutrals" were discovered to be in arms against England. "Every resource of patience and persuasion" had been used to secure their loyalty to Great Britain, but in vain. At last it was decided to disperse them among the southern provinces, and the deportation began in October. At the end of two months, about six thousand of the Acadians had been sent away, and their homes destroyed. THE EMBARKATION From "Evangeline" [October 8, 1755] Four times the sun had risen and set; and now on the fifth day Cheerily called the cock to the sleeping maids of the farm-house. Soon o'er the yellow fields, in silent and mournful procession, Came from the neighboring hamlets and farms the Acadian women, Driving in ponderous wains their household goods to the sea-shore, Pausing and looking back to gaze once more on their dwellings, Ere they were shut from sight by the winding road and the woodland. Close at their sides their children ran, and urged on the oxen, While in their little hands they clasped some fragments of playthings.