until there was a rattle and roar
as if a mighty battle was going on. Such was the famous "Battle of the
Kegs."

This was more of Dave Bushnell's work. He had made and set adrift those
powder kegs, fixing them so that they would explode on touching
anything. But he did not understand the river and its tides. He intended
to have them get among the ships at night, but it was broad day when
they came down, and by that time the eddying waters had scattered them
far and wide. So the powder kegs were of no more account than the
torpedoes. All they did was to give the British a scare.

Philadelphia had a poet named Francis Hopkinson, who wrote a poem
making fun of the British, called "The Battle of the Kegs." We give a
few verses of this humorous poem:

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

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,
The strange appearance viewing,
First "dashed" his eyes in great surprise,
Then said: "Some mischief's brewing.

"These kegs, I'm told, the rebels hold,
Packed up like pickled herring;
And they've come down to attack the town
In this new way of ferrying."

* * * * *

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

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

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

And so it went on, verse after verse, with not much poetry in it, but a
good deal of fun. The British did not enjoy it, for people did not like
to be laughed at then any more than now.

C