THE WAR OF 1812-15
Reading edition

TRUXTON'S VICTORY
(Action between the Constellation and the Insurgente, 9 Feb., 1799.)
[This song and the one that follows it relate to a naval conflict of 1799, during the troubles which for a time threatened war between France and the United States. As the second of the two songs was written in 1813, and both were much sung at that period, it has been thought best to present both of them where one properly belongs, namely, among the poems of the last war with Great Britain.—Editor.]
When Freedom, fair Freedom, her banner display'd, Defying each foe whom her rights would invade, Columbia's brave sons swore those rights to maintain, And o'er ocean and earth to establish her reign; United they cry, While that standard shall fly, Resolved, firm, and steady, We always are ready To fight, and to conquer, to conquer or die. Tho' Gallia through Europe has rushed like a flood, And deluged the earth with an ocean of blood: While by faction she's led, while she's governed by knaves, We court not her smiles, and will ne'er be her slaves; Her threats we defy, While our standard shall fly, Resolved, firm, and steady, We always are ready To fight, and to conquer, to conquer or die. Tho' France with caprice dares our Statesmen upbraid, A tribute demands, or sets bounds to our trade; From our young rising Navy our thunders shall roar, And our Commerce extend to the earth's utmost shore. Our cannon we'll ply, While our standard shall fly; Resolved, firm, and steady, We always are ready To fight, and to conquer, to conquer or die. To know we're resolved, let them think on the hour, When Truxton, brave Truxton off Nevis's shore, His ship mann'd for battle, the standard unfurl'd, And at the Insurgente defiance he hurled; And his valiant tars cry, While our standard shall fly, Resolved, firm, and steady, We always are ready To fight, and to conquer, to conquer or die. Each heart beat exulting, inspir'd by the cause; They fought for their country, their freedom and laws; From their cannon loud volleys of vengeance they pour'd, And the standard of France to Columbia was lower'd. Huzza! they now cry, Let the Eagle wave high; Resolved, firm, and steady, We always are ready To fight, and to conquer, to conquer or die. Then raise high the strain, pay the tribute that's due To the fair Constellation, and all her brave Crew; Be Truxton revered, and his name be enrolled, 'Mongst the chiefs of the ocean, the heroes of old. Each invader defy, While such heroes are nigh, Who always are ready, Resolved, firm, and steady To fight, and to conquer, to conquer or die.

THE "CONSTELLATION" AND THE "INSURGENTE."
(Action of 9 February, 1799.)
Come all ye Yankee sailors, with swords and pikes advance, 'Tis time to try your courage and humble haughty France, The sons of France our seas invade, Destroy our commerce and our trade, 'Tis time the reckoning should be paid! To brave Yankee boys. On board the Constellation, from Baltimore we came, We had a bold commander and Truxton was his name! Our ship she mounted forty guns, And on the main so swiftly runs, To prove to France Columbia's sons Are brave Yankee boys. We sailed to the West Indies in order to annoy The invaders of our commerce, to burn, sink, and destroy; Our Constellation shone so bright, The Frenchmen could not bear the sight, And away they scamper'd in affright, From the brave Yankee boys. 'Twas on the 9th of February, at Montserrat we lay, And there we spy'd the Insurgente just at the break of day, We raised the orange and the blue, To see if they our signals knew, The Constellation and her crew Of brave Yankee boys. Then all hands were called to quarters, while we pursued in chase, With well prim'd guns, our tompions out, well spliced the main brace. Soon to the French we did draw nigh, Compelled to fight, they were, or fly, The word was passed, "Conquer or die," My brave Yankee boys. Lord! our Cannons thunder'd with peals tremendous roar, And death upon our bullets' wings that drenched their decks with gore, The blood did from their scuppers run, Their chief exclaimed, "We are undone!" Their flag they struck, the battle won, By the brave Yankee boys. Then to St. Kitts we steered, we bro't her safe in port, The grand salute was fired and answered from the fort, John Adams in full bumpers toast, George Washington, Columbia's boast, And now "the girl we love the most!" My brave Yankee boys.
1813.


THE WASP'S FROLIC.
(Action of 18 October, 1812.)
[From "Naval Songster," 1815.]
'Twas on board the sloop-of-war Wasp boys, We set sail from Delaware Bay, To cruise on Columbia's fair coast, sirs, Our rights to maintain on the sea. Three days were not passed on our station, When the Frolic came up to our view; Says Jones, "Show the flag of our nation"; Three cheers were then gave by our crew. We boldly bore up to this Briton, Whose cannon began for to roar; The Wasp soon her stings from her side ran, When we on them a broadside did pour. Each sailor stood firm at his quarters, 'Twas minutes past forty and three, When fifty bold Britons were slaughter'd, Whilst our guns swept their masts in the sea. Their breasts then with valor still glowing, Acknowledged the battle we'd won, On us then bright laurels bestowing, When to leeward they fired a gun. On their decks we the twenty guns counted, With a crew for to answer the same; Eighteen was the number we mounted, Being served by the lads of true game. With the Frolic in tow, we were standing, All in for Columbia's fair shore; But fate on our laurels was frowning, We were taken by a seventy-four.


"CONSTITUTION" AND "GUERRIÈRE."
(Action of 19 August, 1812.)
It oft times has been told, That the British seamen bold, Could flog the tars of France so neat and handy, oh! But they never found their match, Till the Yankees did them catch, Oh, the Yankee boys for fighting are the dandy, oh! The Guerrière a frigate bold, On the foaming ocean rolled, Commanded by proud Dacres, the grandee, oh! With as choice a British crew, As a rammer ever drew, Could flog the Frenchmen two to one so handy, oh! When this frigate hove in view, Says proud Dacres to his crew, "Come clear ship for action and be handy, oh! To the weather gage, boys, get her," And to make his men fight better, Gave them to drink gun-powder mixed with brandy, oh! Then Dacres loudly cries, "Make this Yankee ship your prize, You can in thirty minutes, neat and handy, oh! Twenty-five's enough I'm sure, And if you'll do it in a score, I'll treat you to a double share of brandy, oh!" The British shot flew hot, Which the Yankees answered not, Till they got within the distance they called handy, oh! "Now," says Hull unto his crew, "Boys, let's see what we can do, If we take this boasting Briton we're the dandy, oh!" The first broadside we pour'd Carried her mainmast by the board, Which made this loftly frigate look abandon'd, oh! Then Dacres shook his head, And to his officers said, "Lord! I didn't think those Yankees were so handy, oh!" Our second told so well That their fore and mizzen fell, Which dous'd the Royal ensign neat and handy, oh! "By George!" says he, "we're done," And they fired a lee gun, While the Yankees struck up Yankee Doodle Dandy, oh! Then Dacres came on board, To deliver up his sword, Tho' loth was he to part with it, it was so handy, oh! "Oh keep your sword," says Hull, "For it only makes you dull, "Cheer up and take a little drink of brandy, oh!" Now, fill your glasses full, And we'll drink to Captain Hull, And so merrily we'll push about the brandy, oh! John Bull may toast his fill, But let the world say what they will, The Yankee boys for fighting are the dandy, oh!

THE "UNITED STATES" AND "MACEDONIAN."
(Action 25 of October, 1812.)
How glows each patriot bosom that boasts a Yankee heart, To emulate such glorious deeds and nobly take a part; When sailors with their thund'ring guns, Prove to the English, French, and Danes That Neptune's chosen fav'rite sons Are brave Yankees boys. The twenty-fifth of October, that glorious happy day, When we beyond all precedent, from Britons bore the sway,— 'Twas in the ship United States, Four and forty guns the rates, That she should rule, decreed the Fates, And brave Yankee boys. Decatur and his hardy tars were cruising on the deep, When off the Western Islands they to and fro did sweep, The Macedonian they espied, "Huzza! bravo!" Decatur cried, "We'll humble Britain's boasted pride, My brave Yankee boys." The decks were cleared, the hammocks stowed, the boatswain pipes all hands, The tompions out, the guns well sponged, the Captain now commands; The boys who for their country fight, Their words, "Free Trade and Sailor's Rights!" Three times they cheered with all their might, Those brave Yankee boys. Now chain-shot, grape, and langrage pierce through her oaken sides, And many a gallant sailor's blood runs purpling in the tides; While death flew nimbly o'er their decks, Some lost their legs, and some their necks, And Glory's wreath our ship be-decks, For brave Yankee boys. My boys, the proud St. George's Cross, the stripes above it wave, And busy are our gen'rous tars, the conquered foe to save, Our Captain cries "Give me your hand," Then of the ship who took command But brave Yankee boys? Our enemy lost her mizzen, her main and fore-top-mast, For ev'ry shot with death was winged, which slew her men so fast, That they lost five to one in killed, And ten to one their blood was spilled, So Fate decreed and Heaven had willed, For brave Yankee boys. Then homeward steered the captive ship, now safe in port she lies, The old and young with rapture viewed our sailors' noble prize; Through seas of wine their health we'll drink, And wish them sweet-hearts, friends, and chink, Who 'fore they'd strike, will nobly sink Our brave Yankee boys.
1813.


THE "UNITED STATES" AND "MACEDONIAN."
(Action of 25 October, 1812.)
The banner of Freedom high floated unfurled, While the silver-tipt surges in low homage curled, Flashing bright round the bow of Decatur's brave bark, In contest, an "eagle"—in chasing a "lark." The bold United States, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield—be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." All canvas expanded to woo the coy gale, The ship cleared for action, in chase of a sail; The foemen in view, every bosom beats high, All eager for conquest, or ready to die. The bold United States, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield—be known to yield or fly. Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." Now havoc stands ready, with optics of flame, And battle-hounds "strain on the start" for the game; The blood demons rise on the surge for their prey, While Pity, rejected, awaits the dread fray. The bold United States, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield—be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." The gay floating streamers of Britain appear, Waving light on the breeze as the stranger we near; And now could the quick-sighted Yankee discern "Macedonian," emblazoned at large on her stern. The bold United States, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield—be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." She waited our approach, and the contest began, But to waste ammunition is no Yankee plan; In awful suspense every match was withheld, While the bull-dogs of Britain incessantly yelled. The bold United States, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield—be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." Unawed by her thunders, alongside we came, While the foe seemed enwrapped in a mantle of flame; When, prompt to the word, such a flood we return, That Neptune aghast, thought his trident would burn. The bold United States, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield—be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." Now the lightning of battle gleams horridly red, With a tempest of iron and hail-storm of lead; And our fire on the foe we so copiously poured, His mizzen and topmasts soon went by the board. The bold United States, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield—be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." So fierce and so bright did our flashes aspire, They thought that their cannon had set us on fire, "The Yankee's in flames!"—every British tar hears, And hails the false omen with three hearty cheers. The bold United States, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield—be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." In seventeen minutes they found their mistake, And were glad to surrender and fall in our wake; Her decks were with carnage and blood deluged o'er, Where welt'ring in blood lay an hundred and four. The bold United States, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield—be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." But though she was made so completely a wreck, With blood they had scarcely encrimsoned our deck; Only five valiant Yankees in the contest were slain, And our ship in five minutes was fitted again. The bold United States, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield—be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." Let Britain no longer lay claim to the seas, For the trident of Neptune is ours, if we please, While Hull and Decatur and Jones are our boast, We dare their whole navy to come on our coast. The bold United States, Which four-and-forty rates, Will ne'er be known to yield—be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die." Rise, tars of Columbia!—and share in the fame, Which gilds Hull's, Decatur's and Jones's bright name; Fill a bumper, and drink, "Here's success to the cause, But Decatur supremely deserves our applause." The bold United States, Which four-and-forty rates, Shall ne'er be known to yield—be known to yield or fly, Her motto is "Glory! we conquer or we die."
1813.


PERRY'S VICTORY.
(Battle of Lake Erie, 10 September, 1813.)
[This ballad, clumsy as it is in construction, was very popular in its day, mainly, perhaps, because of the peculiarly dramatic character of the action it was written to celebrate.—Editor.]
We sailed to and fro in Erie's broad lake, To find British bullies or get into their wake, When we hoisted our canvas with true Yankee speed, And the brave Captain Perry our squadron did lead. We sailed thro' the lake, boys, in search of the foe, In the cause of Columbia our brav'ry to show, To be equal in combat was all our delight, As we wished the proud Britons to know we could fight. And whether like Yeo, boys, they'd taken affright, We could see not, nor find them by day or by night; So cruising we went in a glorious cause, In defence of our rights, our freedom, and laws. At length to our liking six sails hove in view, Huzzah! says brave Perry, huzzah! says his crew, And then for the chase, boys, with our brave little crew, We fell in with the bullies and gave them "burgoo." Though the force was unequal, determined to fight, We brought them to action before it was night; We let loose our thunder, our bullets did fly, "Now give them your shot, boys," our commander did cry. We gave them a broadside, our cannon to try, "Well done," says brave Perry, "for quarter they'll cry, Shot well home, my brave boys, they shortly shall see, That quite brave as they are, still braver are we." Then we drew up our squadron, each man full of fight, And put the proud Britons in a terrible plight, The brave Perry's movements will prove fully as bold, As the fam'd Admiral Nelson's prowess of old. The conflict was sharp, boys, each man to his guns, For our country, her glory, the vict'ry was won, So six sail (the whole fleet) was our fortune to take, Here's a health to brave Perry, who governs the Lake.
1813.

YANKEE THUNDERS.
Britannia's gallant streamers, Float proudly o'er the tide, And fairly wave Columbia's stripes, In battle side by side. And ne'er did bolder seamen meet, Where ocean's surges pour; O'er the tide now they ride, While the bell'wing thunders roar, While the cannon's fire is flashing fast, And the bell'wing thunders roar. When Yankee meets the Briton, Whose blood congenial flows, By Heav'n created to be friends, By fortune rendered foes; Hard then must be the battle fray, Ere well the fight is o'er; Now they ride, side by side, While the bell'wing thunders roar, While her cannon's fire is flashing fast, And the bell'wing thunders roar. Still, still, for noble England Bold D'Acres' streamers fly; And for Columbia, gallant Hull's As proudly and as high; Now louder rings the battle din, And thick the volumes pour; Still they ride, side by side, While the bell'wing thunders roar, While the cannon's fire is flashing fast, And the bell'wing thunders roar. Why lulls Britannia's thunder, That waked the wat'ry war? Why stays the gallant Guerrière, Whose streamers waved so fair? That streamer drinks the ocean wave, That warrior's fight is o'er! Still they ride, side by side, While the bell'wing thunders roar, While the cannon's fire is flashing fast, And the bell'wing thunders roar. Hark! 'tis the Briton's lee gun! Ne'er bolder warrior kneeled! And ne'er to gallant mariners Did braver seamen yield. Proud be the sires, whose hardy boys Then fell to fight no more: With the brave, mid the wave; When the cannon's thunders roar, Their spirits then shall trim the blast, And swell the thunder's roar. Vain were the cheers of Britons, Their hearts did vainly swell, Where virtue, skill, and bravery With gallant Morris fell. That heart so well in battle tried, Along the Moorish shore, And again o'er the main, When Columbia's thunders roar, Shall prove its Yankee spirit true, When Columbia's thunder's roar. Hence be our floating bulwark Those oaks our mountains yield; 'Tis mighty Heaven's plain decree— Then take the wat'ry field! To ocean's farthest barrier then Your whit'ning sail shall pour; Safe they'll ride o'er the tide, While Columbia's thunders roar, While her cannon's fire is flashing fast, And her Yankee thunders roar.
1813.

YE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND.
[This rudely constructed song—evidently composed in the forecastle, where poets are not exigent in the matter of rhymes, is included in this collection, notwithstanding its imperfections, because of the hold it took upon the minds of patriotic people. It was still a favorite song in many parts of the country as late as 1859, and it is valuable as a reflection of the spirit in which the War of 1812-14 was regarded by those who fought it.—Editor.]
Ye parliament of England, You lords and commons, too, Consider well what you're about, And what you're going to do; You're now to fight with Yankees, I'm sure you'll rue the day, You roused the sons of liberty, In North America. You first confined our commerce, And said our ships shant trade, You next impressed our seamen, And used them as your slaves; You then insulted Rogers, While ploughing o'er the main, And had not we declarèd war, You'd have done it o'er again. You thought our frigates were but few, And Yankees could not fight, Until brave Hull your Guerrière took And banished her from your sight. The Wasp then took your Frolic, We'll nothing say to that, The Poictiers being of the line, Of course she took her back. The next, your Macedonian, No finer ship could swim, Decatur took her gilt-work off, And then he sent her in. The Java, by a Yankee ship Was sunk, you all must know; The Peacock fine, in all her plume, By Lawrence down did go. Then next you sent your Boxer, To box us all about, But we had an Enterprising brig That beat your Boxer out; We boxed her up to Portland, And moored her off the town, To show the sons of liberty The Boxer of renown. The next upon Lake Erie, Where Perry had some fun, You own he beat your naval force, And caused them for to run; This was to you a sore defeat, The like ne'er known before— Your British squadron beat complete— Some took, some run ashore. There's Rogers in the President, Will burn, sink, and destroy; The Congress, on the Brazil coast, Your commerce will annoy; The Essex, in the South Seas, Will put out all your lights, The flag she waves at her mast-head— "Free Trade and Sailor's Rights." Lament, ye sons of Britain, Far distant is the day, When you'll regain by British force What you've lost in America; Go tell your king and parliament, By all the world 'tis known, That British force, by sea and land, By Yankees is o'erthrown. Use every endeavor, And strive to make a peace, For Yankee ships are building fast, Their navy to increase; They will enforce their commerce, The laws by heaven are made, That Yankee ships in time of peace, To any port may trade.
1813.


COMRADES! JOIN THE FLAG OF GLORY.
Comrades! join the flag of glory, Cheerily tread the deck of fame, Earn a place in future story, Seek and win a warrior's name. Yankee tars can laugh at dangers, While the roaring mountain wave Teems with carnage—they are strangers To a deed that is not brave. May our bannered stars as ever Splendidly o'er freemen burn, Till the night of war is over, Till the dawn of peace return.
1813.

OUR NAVY.
On wings of glory, swift as light, The sound of battle came, The gallant Hull in glorious fight Has won the wreaths of fame. Chorus.—Let brave Columbia's noble band With hearts united rise, Swear to protect their native land Till sacred freedom dies. Let brave Decatur's dauntless breast With patriot ardor glow, And in the garb of vict'ry drest Triumphant blast the foe. Chorus.—Let brave, etc. And Rogers with his gallant crew O'er the wide ocean ride, To prove their loyal spirits true, And crush old Albion's pride. Chorus.—Let brave, etc. Then hail another Guerrière there, With roaring broadsides hail; And while the thunder rends the air See Briton's sons turn pale. Chorus.—Let brave, etc. "The day is ours, my boys, huzza!" The great commander cries, While all responsive roar huzza! With pleasure-sparkling eyes. Chorus.—Let brave, etc. Thus shall Columbia's fame be spread, Her heaven-born eagle soar; Her deeds of glory shall be read When tyrants are no more. Chorus.—Let brave, etc.
1813.


THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER.
By FRANCIS SCOTT KEY.
[Written during the bombardment of Fort McHenry, below Baltimore, by the British fleet, 1814, the author being at the time forcibly detained on board one of the British ships.—Editor.]
O Say, can you see by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, On the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming; And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. O say, does the star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore dimly seen, through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses? Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam, In full glory reflected now shines on the stream. 'Tis the star-spangled banner! O long may it wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! And where is that band who so vauntingly swore That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion A home and a country shall leave us no more? Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave, From the terror of death and the gloom of the grave. And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! O thus be it ever when freemen shall stand Between their loved homes and the war's desolation; Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heaven-rescued land, Praise the power that has made and preserved us a nation. Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just. And this be our motto: "In God is our trust." And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.


SEA AND LAND VICTORIES.
(From "The Naval Songster," 1815.)
With half the Western world at stake, See Perry on the midland lake, The unequal combat dare; Unawed by vastly stronger pow'rs, He met the foe and made him ours, And closed the savage war. Macdonough, too, on Lake Champlain, In ships outnumbered, guns, and men, Saw dangers thick increase; His trust in God and virtue's cause He conquer'd in the lion's jaws, And led the way to peace. To sing each valiant hero's name Whose deeds have swelled the files of fame, Requires immortal powers; Columbia's warriors never yield To equal force by sea or field, Her eagle never cowers. Long as Niagara's cataract roars Or Erie laves our Northern shores, Great Brown, thy fame shall rise; Outnumber'd by a veteran host Of conquering heroes, Britain's boast— Conquest was there thy prize. At Plattsburg, see the Spartan band, Where gallant Macomb held command, The unequal host oppose; Provost confounded, vanquished flies, Convinced that numbers won't suffice Where Freemen are the foes. Our songs to noblest strains we'll raise While we attempt thy matchless praise, Carolina's godlike son; While Mississippi rolls his flood, Or Freemen's hearts move patriots' blood, The palm shall be thine own. At Orleans—lo! a savage band, In countless numbers gain the strand, "Beauty and spoil" the word— There Jackson with his fearless few, The invincibles by thousands slew, And dire destruction poured. O Britain! when the tale is told Of Jackson's deeds by fame enrolled, Should grief and madness rise, Remember God, the avenger, reigns, Who witnessed Havre's smoking plains, And Hampton's female cries.


OLD IRONSIDES.
By OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.
[This poem was inspired by the announcement that the frigate Constitution was to be dismantled. Though written later it belongs among the poems of the War of 1812, as the Constitution's fame was won in that war.—Editor.]
Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has dimmed to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar;— The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee;— The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea!

O better that her shattered hulk Should sink beneath the wave; Her thunders shook the mighty deep, And there should be her grave; Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the god of storms, The lightning and the gale!
1836.
