De Papineau Gun

AN INCIDENT OF THE CANADIAN REBELLION OF 1837.

Bon jour, M'sieu'--you want to know

  'Bout dat ole gun--w'at good she's for?

W'y! Jean Bateese Bruneau--mon pere,

  Fight wit' dat gun on Pap'neau War!

Long tam since den you say--C'est vrai,

  An' me too young for 'member well,

But how de patriot fight an' die,

  I offen hear de ole folk tell.

De English don't ack square dat tam,

  Don't geev de habitants no show,

So 'long come Wolfred Nelson

  Wit' Louis Joseph Papineau.

An' swear de peep mus' have deir right.

  Wolfred he's write Victoriaw,

But she's no good, so den de war

  Commence among de habitants.

Mon pere he leev to Grande Brulé  So smarter man you never see,

Was alway on de grande hooraw!

  Plaintee w'at you call "Esprit!"

An' w'en dey form wan compagnie

  All dress wit' tuque an' ceinture sash

Ma fader tak' hees gun wit' heem

  An' marche away to Saint Eustache,

W'ere many patriots was camp

  Wit' brave Chenier, deir Capitaine,

W'en 'long come English Generale,

  An' more two t'ousan' sojer man.

De patriot dey go on church

  An' feex her up deir possibill;

Dey fight deir bes', but soon fin' out

  "Canon de bois" no good for kill.

An' den de church she come on fire,

  An' burn almos' down to de groun',

So w'at you t'ink our man can do

  Wit' all dem English armee roun'?

'Poleon, hees sojer never fight

  More brave as dem poor habitants,

Chenier, he try for broke de rank

  Chenier come dead immediatement.

He fall near w'ere de cross is stan'

  Upon de ole church cimitiere,

Wit' Jean Poulin an' Laframboise

  An' plaintee more young feller dere.

De gun dey rattle lak' tonnere

  Jus' bang, bang, bang! dat's way she go,

An' wan by wan de brave man's fall

  An' red blood's cover all de snow.

Ma fader shoot so long he can

  An' den he's load hees gun some more,

Jomp on de ice behin' de church

  An' pass heem on de 'noder shore.

Wall! he reach home fore very long

  An' keep perdu for many day,

Till ev'ry t'ing she come tranquille,

  An' sojer man all gone away.

An' affer dat we get our right,

  De Canayens don't fight no more,

Ma fader's never shoot dat gun,

  But place her up above de door.

An' Papineau, an' Nelson too

  Dey're gone long tam, but we are free,

Le Bon Dieu have 'em 'way up dere.

  Salut, Wolfred! Salut, Louis!