Our small arms did rattle, and our great guns did roar, Till one of them we sunk, and the other run ashore; Such a slaughter we made as you seldom shall see, Till an hundred and eighty we drown’d in the sea. Our fight being over, and our fray being done, And every man then scowering his gun, And every man to a full flowing bowl; Here’s a health to all British loyal souls. There’s one thing more does trouble our mind; It’s for to leave our chief mate, that noble soul, behind, But he being wounded most desperate sore, We were forced for to leave him at Gibraltar. But now, my brave boys, we are plowing of the main, In spite of our enemies France or Spain: It’s all for to gain both honour and gold, And we’ll let them know Little-John won’t be control’d. My name is George Cook, the author of this, And he may be hang’d that will take it amiss. _A NEW SONG ON THE BATTLE FOUGHT ON THE 18th JUNE, 1793._ Between the _La Nymphe_ Frigate, of thirty-six twelve-pounders, commanded by Captain Pellew, and the _Cleopatra_, a French Ship of forty eighteen-pounders, commanded by Monsieur Jean Mullon, with 350 men. Come, all you British heroes, listen to what I say; ’Tis of a noble battle that was fought the other day; And such a sharp engagement we hardly ever knew: Our officers were valiant and our sailors so true. The _La Nymphe_ was our frigate, and she carried a valiant crew, With thirty-six twelve-pounders, that made the French to rue. At daylight in the morning the French hove in sight; Captain Pellew he commanded us in this fight. Full forty eighteen-pounders we had for to engage; The French they thought to confound us, they seemed so much enrag’d. Our captain cry’d, ‘Be steady, boys, and well supply each gun; We’ll take this haughty Frenchman, or force her for to run.’ The action then began, my boys, [with] shot on every side; They thought her weight of metal would soon subdue our pride. I think the second broadside her captain he was slain, And many a valiant Frenchman upon the decks were lain. We fought on with such fury, made every shot to tell, And thirteen brave seamen in our ship there fell, Tho’ forty-five minutes was the time this fight did last, The French ship lost her tiller and likewise her mizen mast. Then yard arm and yard arm we by each other lay, And sure such noble courage to each other did display; We form’d a resolution to give the French a check, And instantly we boarded her off the quarter-deck. Her colours being struck, my boys, she then became our prize, And our young ship’s company subdued our enemies, Altho’ they were superior in metal and in men. Of such engagement you may seldom hear again.