THE SERVICES OE LIEUT.-COLONEL FRANCIS DOWNMAN, R.A. 223 
Family, the Army and Navy and their representative commanders, and 
the ladies. A salute of music and three cheers graced each of these 
toasts. After the supper the dancing was renewed, and the whole 
broke up at 4 in the morning. 
The following lines were intended to have been declaimed by the 
herald after the knights had approached the Pavilion, in which were 
the General and the ladies. He bore in his hand a laurel wreath with 
the following inscription, but in delicacy to the General this was 
suppressed. 
Mars conquest plumed, the Cyprian Queen disarms, 
And victors, vanquished, yield to beauty’s charms. 
(He hangs the Crown on the front of the Pavilion and proceeds). 
Here then the laurel,—here the palm we yield, 
And all the trophies of the tilted field ; 
Here, Whites and Blacks 1 with blended homage, pay 
To each device the honours of the day. 
Hard were the task, and impious to decide 
Where both are fairest, which the fairer side 
Enough for us, if by such sports we-strove 
To grace this feast of military love, 
And, joining in the wish of every heart, 
Honoured the friend and leader ere we part. 
When great in arms our brave forefathers rose, 
And loosed the British Lion on his foes ; 
When the fall’n Gauls, then perjured too and base, 
The faithless fathers of a faithless race. 
First to attack, tho’ still the first to yield, 
Shrunk from their rage on Poictiers laureled field; 
Oft, while grim war suspended his alarms, 
The gallant bands with mimic deeds of arms, 
Thus to some favourite chief the feast decreed, 
And decked the tilting knight, th’ encountering steed. 
In manly sports that served but to inspire 
Contempt of death, and feed the martial fire. 
The lists beheld them celebrate his name. 
Who led their steps to victory and fame. 
Thro’ ev’ry rank the grateful ardour ran, 
All feared the chieftain, but all loved the man; 
And, fired with the soul of this bright day, 
Paid to a Salisbury what to 'Howe we pay. 
Shame to the envious slave that dares bemoan. 
Their sons degenerate, or their spirits flown — 
Let maddening Faction drive this guilty land 
With her worst foes to form th’ unnatural band ; 
In yon brave crowd old British courage glows 
Unconquered, growing as the danger grows. 
With hearts as bold as e’er their fathers bore, 
Their country they’ll avenge, her fame restore. 
Roused to the charge, methinks I hear them cry, 
Revenge and glory sparkling from each eye, 
Chained to our arms while Howe the battle led, 
Still round these files her wings shall conquest spread. 
Loved tho’ he goes, the spirit still remains 
That with him bore us o’er those trembling plains 
On Hudson’s banks the sure presage we read 
Of other triumphs to our arms decreed; 
Nor fear but equal honours shall repay 
Each hardy deed where Clinton points the way. 
1 The Knights so distinguished. 
