The Blanche Frigate

You Frenchmen, don't boast of your fighting, nor talk of great deeds, 'tis in vain;
Do you think that Old England you'll frighten as easy as Holland and Spain ?
We listen and laugh while you threaten, your boasting the valour of France,
Since your frigate Le Pique has been beaten by the jolly brave tars of the Blanche.

She sail'd from the bay of Point Petre, four hundred and fifty on board,
And we were all ready to meet her: to conquer or die was the word !
The cans of good liquor were flowing, we gave them three cheers to advance,
And courage in each heart was glowing, for cowards ne'er sail'd in the Blanche.

The night then upon us declining, the moon did afford us alight,
Each star with fresh lustre was shining, to keep the French frigate in sight.
The breeze gently filled all our sails, our ship through the water did launch,
And the grog flew in bumpers and pails amongst the brave tars in the Blanche.

At midnight we came alongside, each ship being prepared for the fight;
'Huzza !' then bold Faulkner he cried, ' we'll conquer or perish this night';
So they gave us a broadside to try our courage and found us all staunch,
Not a man there but rather would die, than cowardly yield up the
Blanche.

The fight made the sea seem on fire ; each bullet destructively flew.
Britannia her sons did inspire with courage that damp'd the
French crew,
Saying, ' Cowards, you surely must die, for over you Death turns his lance,'
While our balls repeat as they fly, ' Fight on, my brave tars of the
Blanche:

Our mainmast and mizen being gone the Frenchmen they thought us their own,
And with ' Vive la Republique !' their song we thought they would never have done.
We joined in their song undismayed, with music that made them all dance,
And not a false note was there played by the harmonious tars of the Blanche.

When Faulkner resigned his last breath each tar gave a tear and a sigh,
Such sorrow was found at his death, but we'll soon be revenged was the cry,
But, like Wolfe, with victory crowned, at his death he said ' Ne'er mind my chance;
Fight on, my brave boys, or be drowned on board of our frigate the Blanche:

Bold Watkins his place soon supplied, and like a bold Hector engaged
His guns with more judgment to guide, for the death of his captain enraged;
And who could our fury allay when Le Pique alongside did advance ?
The masts being all shot away we grappled her close to the
Blanche.

They though it in vain to withstand ; they called out for quarter amain.
Although the advantage they had still Britons were lords of the main.
So push the grog round, let it pass, since they found us truehearted and staunch ;
Every lad with his favourite lass drink success to the tars of the
Blanche.