William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
Old England, Forty Years Ago—1815O
When we were young and slender,
She aim’d at us a mortal blow,
But God was our defender.
Jehovah saw her horrid plan,
Great Washington he gave us:
His holiness inspired the man
With skill and power to save us.
To ravage, kill, and plunder:
Our heroes met them on the shore,
And drove them back with thunder.
Our independence they confess’d,
And with their hands they sign’d it:
But on their hearts ’twas ne’er impress’d,
For there I ne’er could find it.
Our liberties invading;
We bore it, and forbore until
Forbearance was degrading:
Regardless of the sailor’s right,
Impress’d our native seamen,
Made them against their country fight,
And thus enslaved our freemen.
He mildly did implore them
To let the suffering captives go,
But they would not restore them.
Our commerce, too, they did invade,
Our ships they search’d and seized,
Declaring, also, we should trade
With none but whom they pleased.
“We’ve power, and we must use it;
Our freedom surely lies at stake,
And we must fight, or lose it.
We’ll make old England’s children know
We are the brave descendants
Of those who flogg’d their fathers so,
And gain’d our independence.
We’ve put in warlike motion:”
Straight to the field our soldiers flew,
Our seamen to the ocean.
They met their foes on towering waves,
With courage, skill, and splendour;
They sunk them down to watery graves,
Or forced them to surrender.
Did wonders in our navy:
Brave Captain Hull sunk the Guerriere,
And Bainbridge sunk the Java;
Decatur took a ship of fame,
High on the waving water,
(The Macedonian was her name,)
And home in triumph brought her.
Met Barclay on Lake Erie;
At him his matchless thunders hurl’d,
Till Barclay grew quite weary.
He gain’d the victory and renown,
He work’d him up so neatly:
He brought old England’s banners down,
And swept the lake completely.
By fortune quite forsaken;
He was by bold M’Donough slain,
And all his fleet were taken.
Whene’er they met Columbia’s sons,
On lakes or larger waters,
They sunk beneath her thundering guns,
Or humbly cried for quarters.
He gave out special orders
For his whole army to retreat,
And leave the Yankee borders.
Through dreary wilds, o’er bog and fen,
The luckless general blunder’d:
He fled, with fifteen thousand men,
From Macomb’s fifteen hundred.
And let him not be named
Upon the rolls of valiant souls—
Of him we are ashamed;
For his campaign was worse than vain;
A coward and a traitor!
For paltry gold his army sold
To Brock, the speculator.
Had landed on his region,
Away the timorous creature ran,
With all his savage legion—
But overtaken were, and most
Of them were kill’d and taken:
But Proctor soon forsook his post,
And fled, to save his bacon.
Of Chauncey, Pike was landed,
And quickly made old England’s sons
Resign what he demanded.
From George’s fort to Erie’s beach
Our savage foes were beaten:
Their naked bones were left to bleach,
When wolves their flesh had eaten.
From scenes of desolation:
The terror of his noble eye
Struck him with consternation.
Brave Miller, Ripley, Gaines, and Scott,
At Erie and Bridgewater,
At Chippewa, in battles hot,
Their bravest foes did slaughter.
Must tarnish British glory:
Children will blush, in future times,
To read this shameful story.
They burn’d the volumes which comprised
The best of information:
Their barbarous deeds will be despised
By every Christian nation.
The sons of mischief aim’d;
The sons of Freedom met their foe,
And victory justly claim’d.
Amidst their ranks our thunder burst,
Many were kill’d and wounded;
Their chief commander bit the dust,
And all their schemes confounded.
When aided by kind Heaven!
Their leader and four thousand slew,
And lost but only seven.
Some interposing angel’s hand
Repell’d their vile intrusion;
The remnant of their broken band
Fled off, in sad confusion.
In most of them defeated;
Their grand defeat, at New Orleans,
The bloody scene completed.
Soon after this, sweet peace arrived;
Our armies were disbanded;
Our scatter’d foes who had survived
The war, were home commanded.
By fighting that old nation?
Our liberties we have maintain’d,
And raised our reputation.
We’ve gain’d the freedom of the seas;
Our seamen are released:
Our mariners trade where they please;
Impressments, too, have ceased.
Abroad we are respected:
We’ve check’d the rage of British pride,
Their haughtiness corrected.
First, to the God of boundless power
Be thanks and adoration:
Next, Madison, the wondrous flower,
And jewel of our nation.
To them our thanks we tender;
Our heroes next, by sea and land,
To them our thanks we render.
Let us be just, in union live,
Then who will dare invade us?
If any should, our God will give
His angels charge to aid us.