Defeated in Jersey, the English turned with increased vigor to the task of securing the line of the Hudson. An army under General Burgoyne, starting from Canada, was to march down the Hudson to Albany; a second, under Colonel Saint Leger, was to descend the Mohawk valley and unite with Burgoyne; while a third, under Sir William Howe, was to ascend the river to Albany, thus completing the conquest of New York. Burgoyne began his advance early in June with an army of eight thousand men; but soon ran short of supplies, and finally, on August 13, detached an expedition to the little village of Bennington, where the Americans had collected horses and stores. Word of its approach was sent forward and Colonel John Stark prepared to give it a warm reception. THE RIFLEMAN'S SONG AT BENNINGTON Why come ye hither, stranger? Your mind what madness fills? In our valleys there is danger, And danger on our hills! Hear ye not the singing Of the bugle, wild and free? Full soon ye'll know the ringing Of the rifle from the tree! The rifle, the sharp rifle! In our hands it is no trifle! Ye ride a goodly steed; He may know another master: Ye forward come with speed, But ye'll learn to back much faster, When ye meet our mountain boys And their leader, Johnny Stark! Lads who make but little noise, But who always hit the mark With the rifle, the true rifle! In their hands will prove no trifle! Had ye no graves at home Across the briny water, That hither ye must come, Like bullocks to the slaughter? If we the work must do, Why, the sooner 'tis begun, If flint and trigger hold but true, The quicker 'twill be done By the rifle, the good rifle! In our hands it is no trifle! Within a day, eight hundred yeomen were marching under Stark's orders. He was joined by a regiment under Colonel Seth Warner, and on August 15, 1777, in the midst of a drenching rain, set out to meet the enemy. THE MARCHING SONG OF STARK'S MEN [August 15, 1777] March! March! March! from sunrise till it's dark, And let no man straggle on the way! March! March! March! as we follow old John Stark, For the old man needs us all to-day. Load! Load! Load! Three buckshot and a ball, With a hymn-tune for a wad to make them stay! But let no man dare to fire till he gives the word to all, Let no man let the buckshot go astray. Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire all along the line, When we meet those bloody Hessians in array! They shall have every grain from this powder-horn of mine, Unless the cowards turn and run away. Home! Home! Home! When the fight is fought and won, To the home where the women watch and pray! To tell them how John Stark finished what he had begun, And to hear them thank our God for the day. EDWARD EVERETT HALE.