The Endymion's Triumph

Come, all you valiant British tars, attend unto my theme.
In eighteen hundred and fifteen this fact I will proclaim :
As we were cruising off New York, the night it being clear,
Bold Mars to us a message sent an enemy was near.

On January fifteen, just by the dawn of day,
We 'spied a Yankee frigate that just had put to sea.
To her our squadron soon gave chace, but all soon dropt behind,
Except the bold Endymion, who flew before the wind.

It was a handsome chace, my boys, as ever yet was seen,
Each man stood to his quarters, for victory was keen ;
When, about the hour of four o'clock, long torn began to tell,
With her we soon came up, brave boys, our ship could sail so well.

Their Commodore Decatur all hands on deck did call,
Saying, ' Be of good courage, their vessel's very small;
Besides, we have two men to one so, boys, be not asleep,
For in less than ten minutes we'll sink her in the deep.'

But soon he found his great mistake at five o'clock at night
We gave to them three daring cheers, and began the bloody fight.
This was their boasted frigate, in her they did confide,
But soon the bold Endymion pull'd down their Yankee pride.

Two hours and forty minutes, with courage void of fear,
This bloody fight we did maintain and swept her decks so clear.
When she haul'd down her colours our valiant captain cries,
'Well done, well done, my brave boys, the President's our prize ! '

We had twenty kill'd and wounded thank God we had no more
Whilst one hundred of those Yankees lay weltering in their gore,
And more than twenty wounded, most grevious was their cries,
Their bitter moans and dying groans did rend the very skies.

The President she was well manned, five hundred was her crew ;
Three hundred and forty the Endymion were, 'tis true;
Yet, nurs'd in the lap of victory, those Yankees did despise,
For we were all bold British tars and stout courageous boys.

A curious observation, twelve months that day were spent
Since this proud Yankee commodore a challenge to us sent.
We joyfully accepted it, British honour to [de]fend,
But our commodore would not permit, nor yet the same commend.

Full sore it grieved bold Captain Hope that contest to decline,
But now he may exult and say, ' Decatur, you are mine;
I long'd to meet you on this coast and sought you with much toil,
And since I have you snug on board, I'll shew you British soil.'

This action we'll record in the annals of British fame,
Her sixty-three to forty-eight it was unequal game.
Since we left Plymouth Harbour in eighteen hundred and thirteen,
All along the Yankee coast we have thirty prizes ta'en.

Bold Captain Hope commanded us, his praises we'll proclaim,
To him the greatest honour's due, he merits British fame.
'Be silent, men !' was all his cry. ' Bring all your guns to bear,
And do not fire one shot in vain; both round and grape prepare.

It would take the quill of Homer or Virgil to indite
The valour of our officers display'd upon that night:
Our undaunted first lieutenant, bold Morgan of renown,
Mr. Garson, Mr. Ormon, bold Fanshaw and Yeaman.

But on the seventeenth, brave boys, at twelve o'clock at night
We lost our fore and main mast, to us a doleful sight;
To see us in this dreadful gale an adamant heart would weep,
Our quarter-deck and forecastle guns we plunged in the deep.

But soon we rigged our jurymast when that the gale was o'er,
The weather it came fine and clear, the billows ceas'd to roar;
But soon another gale arose, which lasted three whole days,
In the Gulph Stream we were toss'd about, tremendous were the seas.

Our prize she was dismasted and much injury sustain'd ;
Thank God she's now arrived safe, the anchorage she's gain'd.
Thus kind Heaven protected us, all dangers we surviv'd,
For now in sweet Bermuda our ship and she's arriv'd.

Now let Commodore Decatur and all his Yankee crew
Write home to cowardly Madison what British tars can do ,
Whilst our trophies we'll bring home unto the British shore,
And cans of grog we'll pledge, my boys, now tempests cease to roar.

So fill to me a flowing bowl and let the toast go round:
God prosper long bold Captain Hope, with laurels he is crown'd;
Success to our bold officers and all our valiant crew,
And may all British seamen their victories pursue.