William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
Bold HawthorneWritten by the Surgeon of the Vessel
T
Before the close of day,
All hands on board of our privateer,
We got her under weigh;
We kept the Eastern Shore along,
For forty leagues or more,
Then our departure took for sea,
From the isle of Mauhegan shore.
A man of real worth,
Old England’s cruel tyranny
Induced him to go forth;
She, with relentless fury,
Was plundering all our coast,
And thought, because her strength was great,
Our glorious cause was lost.
Of power and dignity,
By land thy conquering armies,
Thy matchless strength at sea;
Since taught by numerous instances
Americans can fight,
With valour can equip their stand,
Your armies put to flight.
Farewell our friends and wives;
We trust in Heaven’s peculiar care,
For to protect their lives;
To prosper our intended cruise
Upon the raging main,
And to preserve our dearest friends
Till we return again.
It bore us on our way,
As far unto the southward
As the Gulf of Florida;
Where we fell in with a British ship,
Bound homeward from the main;
We gave her two bow-chasers,
And she return’d the same.
And so prepared for fight;
The contest held four glasses,
Until the dusk of night;
Then having sprung our mainmast,
And had so large a sea,
We dropp’d astern and left our chase
Till the returning day.
The ship still being nigh,
All hands made for engaging
Our chance once more to try;
But wind and sea being boisterous
Our cannon would not bear,
We thought it quite imprudent
And so we left her there.
Near the coast of Portugal,
In longitude of twenty-seven
We saw a lofty sail;
We gave her chase, and soon perceived
She was a British snow
Standing for fair America,
With troops for General Howe.
With glasses, and he said,
“My boys, she means to fight us,
But be you not afraid;
All hands repair to quarters,
See every thing is clear,
We’ll give her a broadside, my boys,
As soon as she comes near.”
And her men were well secured,
And bore directly for us,
And put us close on board;
When the cannon roar’d like thunder,
And the muskets fired amain,
But soon we were alongside
And grappled to her chain.
The cannon ceased to roar,
We fought with swords and boarding-pikes
One glass or something more,
Till British pride and glory
No longer dared to stay,
But cut the Yankee grapplings,
And quickly bore away.
As plainly might appear;
Yet sudden death did enter
On board our privateer.
Mahoney, Crew, and Clemmons,
The valiant and the brave,
Fell glorious in the contest,
And met a watery grave.
Among our warlike crew,
With them our noble captain,
To whom all praise is due;
To him and all our officers,
Let’s give a hearty cheer;
Success to fair America
And our good privateer!