Song by George Campbell c.1760s

Ye patriot souls who love to sing,
What serves your country and your king,
         In wealth, peace, any royal estates,
Attention give whilst I rehearse,
A modern fact, in jingling verse,
How party interest strove what it cou’d,
To profit itself by public blood,
         But, justly met its merited fate.

Let all those Indian traders claim,
Their just reward, inglorious fame,
         For vile base and treacherous ends.
To Pollins, in the spring they sent,
Much warlike stores, with an intent
To carry them to our barbarous foes,
Expecting that no-body dare oppose,
         A present to their Indian friends.

Astonish’d at the wild design,
Frontier inhabitants combin’d
         With brave souls, to stop their career,
Although some men apostatiz’d,
The bold frontiers they bravely stood,
To act for their King and their country’s good,
         In joint league, and strangers to fear.

On March the fifth, in sixty-five,
Their Indian presents did arrive,
         In long pomp and cavalcade,
Near Sidelong Hill, where in disguise,
Some patriots did their train surprise,
And quick as lightning tumbled their loads,
And kindled them bonfires in the woods,
         And mostly burnt their whole brigade.
At Loudon, when they heard the news,
They scarcely knew which way to choose,
         For blind rage and discontent;
At length some soldiers they sent out,
With guides for to conduct the route,
And seized some men that were trav’ling there,
And hurried them into Loudon where
         They laid them fast with one consent.

But men of resolution thought,
Too much to see their neighbors caught,
         For no crime but false surmise;
Forthwith they join’d a warlike band,
And march’d to Loudon out of hand,
And kept the jailors pris’ners there,
Until our friends enlarged were,
         Without fraud or any disguise.

Let mankind censure or commend,
This rash performance in the end,
         Then both sides will find their account.
‘Tis true no law can justify,
To burn our neighbors property,
But when this property is design’d
To serve the enemies of mankind,
         It’s high treason in the amount.

Written by George Campbell, (an Irish gentleman who had been educated in Dublin) and frequently sung to the tune of the “Black Joke”.  An Account of the Remarkable Occurrences in the Life and Travels of Col. James Smith., Smith, James. Robert Clarke & Co. Cincinnati Ohio., 1870