Chapter X: Part 10

Then our fore-mast went away at four o’clock at night,
Our men [were] in our fore-top, which put us in a fright,
Poor souls we could not save them but overboard did go:
They were lost with the mast in the Bay of Biscay, oh!

It being dark and dismal besides a dreadful night,
One man upon the fore castle was killed out right,
With a ring upon his finger in pieces broke also,
There he lay till next day when we overboard him throw.

We stove our barge and long boat and hove them overboard,
Because we had no tackle or else we might have lower’d.
What with the sea roaring in which made our chests to flow,
And we rowl’d and we shoal’d in the Bay of Biscay, oh!

We lay in that condition full seven or eight days,
Till our furnace tumbled down, which put us in a maze
For we could get no victuals dress’d as I am very sure,
We did eat all raw meat till we came to Gibraltar.

As for our admiral and captain, they are stout hearts of gold,
Besides our three lieutenants of courage stout and bold,
And all our whole ship’s company we made a gallant show,
Altho’ we were in despair in the Bay of Biscay, oh!

The storm being quite over we got up jury-masts,
And steer’d away to Gibraltar, to which we came at last,
And when we came to Gibraltar on shore the yawl did go,
For to tell what befel in the Bay of Biscay, oh!

Within a day or two after we came into the mole.
The people all came flocking down, our ship to behold:
They said it was the strangest thing that ever they did know,
We ne’er repine but drink wine and drown all woe.

As for oatmeal and peas, we ne’er got any of that:
Our purser H----s put ’em in his pocket to make his guts fat.
But when we did come home, boys, we paid him off his score,
Tho’ [he] knew ’twas our due, it help’d to increase [his store].

_THE PACIFICK FLEET: A NEW BALLAD._

Good people, give ear, I’ll tell you a story,
Will tickle your ears, if you wish Britain’s glory;
For in rhyme sure the like was ne’er yet laid before ye,
_Which nobody can deny_.

The Spaniards of late so haughty are grown,
They pretend both our towns and our ships are their own,
And the latter they take still, ’tis very well known,
_Which, etc._

Hereupon we sent word they would find it the best
To give over these pranks, for we liked not their jest,
And they gravely replied they would weigh our request,
_Which, etc._

But still they went on highly pleased with the joke,
Our traders were taken, our merchants were broke,
Resolved if they could our stern wrath to provoke,
_Which, etc._

So our wrath was provoked, and our rage was so great,
That a fleet was equipped, those proud Spaniards to beat,
And we sent for Dutch help in a violent heat,
_Which, etc._

So the Dutch came to help us with twelve men-of-war
(For the Dutch like the Devil injustice abhor,
And they knew that the Spaniards had not played us fair),
_Which, etc._

So to Spithead they went, and at Spithead have lain,
But design very soon to scower out the main,
To retrieve us our honour and humble proud Spain,
_Which, etc._

But when to this purpose the fleets are to weigh,
I am sure yet no Briton will venture to say,
But this I am sure, they will sail when they may,
_Which, etc._

But in the meantime, as in line they are laid,
Most wisely they are of a double use made:
To our nobles diversion, to our foes they give dread,
_Which, etc._

For the gentry all round, and nobility too,
To Portsmouth ride post this Armada to view,
As the first English fleet was set out for a show,
_Which, etc._

But as France will not bear Christian blood to be shed,
Notwithstanding a Wager himself’s at the head,
Fat bucks in great number have bled in their stead,
_Which, etc._

For the Cardinal thinks the same end we fulfil
If we bear the expense, tho’ the fleet does lie still,
For we so frighten Spain they will do what we will,
_Which, etc._

So the fleet lies at anchor, the chaplains read prayers,
The ladies are learning our tarpawling airs,
And each cook for each day some new dishes prepares,
_Which, etc._

The treats are of venison, of rack-punch, and jelly,
Chaire entière have the ladies as some people tell ye
And few will return without tarr in their belly,
_Which, etc._

So when sail they will, they will leave us at home
A brood of young sailors for ages to come,
Who will ’list volunteers at the sound of a drum,
_Which, etc._

On this score alone the expense were well made,
For sailors are wanting for war both and trade,
So the scheme for the public was very well laid,
_Which, etc._

_THE ENGLISH SAILOR’S RESOLUTION TO FIGHT THE SPANIARDS._

Come all you jolly sailors bold,
Who always scorn to be controul’d;
But freely us’d to range the seas,
And plow the ocean where they please;
But now are oppos’d and plundered by those
Guarda Coastas belonging to Spain;
But this I can tell, would we thump them but well,
Our merchants might have their own again.

Our merchants have been long abus’d,
Our ships have been taken, our men misus’d;
And tho’ we often did complain,
No restoration e’er could gain;
But still are put by, with some fallacy,
Altho’ we’re masters of the main;
But this I can tell; wou’d we thump them but well,
Our merchants might have their own again.

’Cause Captain Jenkins did them oppose,
They cut off his ears and slit his nose,
And then his hands together bound,
And to the yard arm drew him up and down;
Then with a jear, they gave him his ear,
Saying ‘Take it to your master’ in disdain.
But our King I can tell, loves his subjects so well,
That he’ll curb the haughty pride of Spain.

So insolent they did behave,
They of our sailors did make slaves,
And work’d all day hard as they cou’d.
With musty horse beans for their food,
Or else a little dish of stinking stock-fish;
Not fitting unto the dogs to throw,
These men would delight to do themselves right,
If to war with the Spaniards we go.

Fifty-two sail of ships (they say)
In nine years time they’ve took away.
A very tragical account,
To what great sums must this amount;
Our rights to in[v]ade and spoil our trade,
High time for our merchants to complain.
I hope to see the day this long score they must pay,
And make them refund it all again.

For these vile crimes they’ve an excuse,
And say they suffer great abuse;
[line missing]
And bring their pieces of eight away,
This I must own by some has been done,
But let them only have the blame;
’Tis hard to condemn all the rest for them,
For rogues will be rogues while the world remains.

Our gracious King and parliament
To right our merchants are fully bent;
For they have been too long abus’d,
And by false pretences have been amus’d.
But now I’m glad to find our Government so kind.
To redress our merchants who complain,
For this I can, etc.

With taking our ships they’re not content,
But want our towns on the continent;
As Georgia and Carolina brave,
They boast and brag they soon will have.
But we hope that our fleet their designs will defeat,
When they approach the coast of Spain,
For this I can, etc.

There’s Giberaltar and Portmahone,
They very fain would make their own;
It grieves them much, we’ve been told,
That two such places we should hold.
Giberalter’s the key, ’tis well known of that sea
Call’d by the name of the Mediterain.
For this I can, etc.

Come jolly sailors, far and near,
To man our fleet with speed prepare;
With Admiral Haddock freely go,
True British valour for to show;
And brave boys boldly fight our merchants for to right,
Free plunder, boys, will crown your pain,
For this I can tell, would we thump them but well,
Our merchants might have their own again.

_ENGLAND’S GLORY IN THE DECLARATION OF WAR._

COMPOS’D BY GEORGE BARKER.

Let every loyal soul rejoyce,
And joyn with me in heart and voice,
Since now we have a happy choice,
France and Spain to bring under.
Fall on, brave boys, without delay,
Brave Haddock will his guns display,
And quickly make of Spain a prey,
And give his men the plunder.

Next, merchants, let your voices ring,
O’er flowing bowls we’ll cheerful sing,
With many thanks unto the King,
For granting us protection.
No longer we’ll be in the dark,
Since we have got letters of marque,
We’ll make Jack Spaniard for to smart
And pay for the Convention.

Spithead shall no more with us groan,
Nor we poor sailors make our moan,
We’ll alter Jack Spaniard’s tone,
Though they so long have wanted.
For now we shall be kept in pay,
Our wives next year appear so gay;
Of Spanish gold we’ll make a prey,
With courage most undaunted.

No more of trade let us complain;
Our antient rights we shall maintain,
Brave Britain’s isle flourish again
By the new declaration.
We’ll learn Spain in this present war
Our merchant captains for to fear,
With us they have run their jest too far,
In their base depredations.

Our shops shall soon be open’d wide,
By humbling Jack Spaniard’s pride,
And our poor tradesmen full employ’d,
To their great satisfaction.
Then let us all in love unite,
And stand for the King and country’s right;
Boldly with proud Spain we’ll fight,
And thus end all distraction.

_THE TAKING OF THE PRINCISSA._

You brave English sailors that plow the ocean wide,
There are no better fellows in all the world beside;
Give ear unto a bloody fight to you I will display
Between a Spanish man-of-war, and the _Kent_, near Cator Bay.
The _Lennox_ and the _Orford_ was cruising thereabout,
And by a Spanish man-of-war they quickly were spy’d out.

Under French colours she down upon us bore,
Thinking we were two merchant ships which had of riches store;
The third she thought a man-of-war our convoy for to be,
And soon she tho’t to have taken us, if not more force than she;
But whilst our English man-of-war did preparations make,
And when that she came up with her, it prov’d a sad mistake.

She carried five hundred seamen, four hundred marines,
Most of them Irish fellows, who fought with [courage keen];
Seventy-four guns she mounted, all of the largest size,
With which she thought of our ships to make a noble prize,
But she was much mistaken, as plainly doth appear,
For we have made a prize of her, and she’s arrived here.

The _Lennox_, Captain Manning, receiv’d the first broadside,
Which carried away his foremast, and his bowsprit beside;
This sad unhappy accident he would no longer stay;
He was so sore disabled, was forc’d to bear away;
But for to shew his courage bold altho’ distressed sore,
He did a thundering broadside into the Spaniard pour.

The next run up the _Kent_, with Captain Durell bold,
Who gave to them a good broadside, like jolly hearts of gold,
Which scar’d the Spanish captain so, he was just going to strike,
So certainly he had it done, but for an Irish tike,
Which was his first lieutenant, who with the men combin’d;
He said ‘I’ll fight the ship myself, the captain we’ll confine.

‘Now come, my loving countrymen, with courage play your parts,
For if the English take us, we are sure of our deserts;
’Tis better manfully to fight, and here to die at sea,
For if the English take us now, we shall all hanged be.’
With that they gave a loud huzza, unto him thus did cry,
‘You shall from hence our captain be, we’ll fight until we die.’

Like jolly hearts of gold they made their cannons roar,
Into the _Kent_ without delay a full broad-side did pour;
Which noble Captain Durell bold did soon return again;
Full fifty of the Spanish men by that broad-side were slain.
Broad-side for broad-side, nine hours we did fight,
Till we at length did take them, our cause being just and right.

Yard-arm and yard-arm, for hours there [we] lay;
With great guns, small arms, and cutlasses we made a bloody fray;
Dead men in numbers lay about, our scuppers fill’d with blood,
Which made the seas [a]round us so like a purple flood.
Three fingers from one hand brave Captain Durell lost;
But yet he was not daunted, still he maintain’d the cause.

The third it was the _Orford_, who had spectator been,
But could not come to help us, nor join the bloody scene;
He hove his ship up to the wind, and brought some guns to bear,
When the desperate saw that, his heart sunk down with fear;
He was so sore disabled, and was so flutter’d then,
To which he had already lost above five hundred men.

But then this Irish desperate did also order then
Two guns to point down in the hold, to sink both ship and men.
O! this unhappy order fill’d his men with horrid dread,
When instantly a cannon-ball came and took off his head.
They made no more resistance, but down their colours took,
And to the _Orford_ now come up, immediately she struck.

So now these Irish desperates, their case it must look sad;
To fight against King and country, their cause was very bad.
Here’s health to all our admirals, and the captains also,
Likewise to every brave seaman aboard with them that go.
And may the bowl successful flow to all our British fleet,
Wishing they may Jack Spaniard drub, where’er with them they meet.

_ENGLISH COURAGE DISPLAY’D, OR BRAVE NEWS FROM ADMIRAL VERNON._

Being a copy of verses giving an account of the taking Porto Bello, the 22nd of November last, written by a seaman on board the _Burford_, the admiral’s ship, and sent here from Jamaica.

Tune of _Glorious Charles of Sweden_.

Come loyal Britons all rejoyce with joyful acclamations,
And join with one united voice upon this just occasion;
To Admiral Vernon drink a health, likewise to each brave fellow
Who with that noble admiral was at the taking of Porto Bello.

From Jamaica he did sail with Commodore Brown to attend him,
Against the Spaniards to prevail, for which we must commend him,
At Porto Bello he arriv’d where each brave gallant fellow
With Admiral Vernon bravely fought, at the taking Porto Bello.

Two men-of-war of twenty guns, likewise five Guarda Costa’s
They in the harbour quickly took, to surrender they were forc’d, sir;
Then the town he summons’d strait, to surrender at his will O,
Which they refusing he did bumbard the town of Porto Bello.

He did bumbard it above two days, and they again return’d it;
The bombs and morters loud did play, he vow’d that he would burn it:
Which when they came to understand, and that he was so brave a
fellow
They did surrender out of hand, the town of Porto Bello.

Then with his men he went on shore who strait began to plunder,
’Tis as they serv’d our ships before, and therefore is no wonder.
With plenty of rum and good strong wines, our men did soon get
mellow
Then swore that never a house should stand in the town of Porto
Bello.

The governor to the admiral sent and to him made an offer
Of thirty thousand pieces of eight the houses to save did proffer.
Which the admiral did accept with a right and free goodwill O,
And therefore let the houses stand in the town of Porto Bello.

Their Iron Castle he destroy’d, and all their guns he seized.
The Spaniards ne’er was more anoy’d; he did just what he pleased.
The South Sea snow he did release, and many a stout English fellow
Whom they had rob’d upon the seas, and carried into Porto Bello.

All their brass guns he took away, the iron ones he nailed
And then threw them into the sea, before from thence he sailed,
Many a jolly sailor’s pouch was cram’d with white and yellow,
For they from plunder could not be kept in the town of Porto Bello.

Besides, brave Vernon freely gave amongst his men as follows,
Who bravely did themselves behave, full thirty thousand dollars,
This must their courage animate; each tar is a rich fellow,
And this is good encouragement for the taking Porto Bello.

When he had stayed there nineteen days, with just resentment fir’d,
Their forts demolished and castles rase’d he from them then retired,
But first he to Panama sent for many a gallant fellow,
Who in prison lay confin’d to be brought to Porto Bello.

While trumpets they did loudly sound and colours were displaying,
The prizes he with him brought away while sailors were huzzaing.
And when they to Jamaica come, a glorious tale to tell O
Of the noble action they had done in taking of Porto Bello.

To Admiral Vernon toss off a glass, may heaven protect and defend
him,
And when he has the Spaniard thump’d, may a safe return attend him
To Comodore Brown toss another down, and to each gallant fellow
Who did so bravely play their parts at the taking of Porto Bello.

_HOSIER’S GHOST._

To the Tune of _Come and Listen to My Ditty_.

As near Porto Bello lying
On the gently swelling flood,
At midnight, with streamers flying,
Our triumphant navy rode;
There while Vernon sat all glorious
From the Spaniards’ late defeat,
And his crew with shouts victorious,
Drank success to England’s fleet,

On a sudden shrilly sounding,
Hideous yells and shrieks were heard;
Then, each heart with fear confounding,
A sad troop of ghosts appear’d,
All in dreary hammocks shrouded,
Which for winding-sheets they wore,
And with looks by sorrow clouded,
Frowning on that hostile shore.

On them gleam’d the moon’s wan lustre,
When the shade of Hosier brave
His pale band was seen to muster,
Rising from their watery grave.
O’er the glimmering wave he hied him,
Where the _Burford_ rear’d her sail,
With three thousand ghosts beside him,
And in groans did Vernon hail.

‘Heed, O heed our fatal story,--
I am Hosier’s injur’d ghost,--
You who now have purchased glory
At this place where I was lost!
Though in Porto Bello’s ruin
You now triumph free from fears,
When you think on our undoing,
You will mix your joy with tears.

‘See these mournful spectres sweeping
Ghastly o’er this hated wave,
Whose wan cheeks are stain’d with weeping--
These were English captains brave!
Mark those numbers pale and horrid--
Those were once my sailors bold!
Lo! each hangs his drooping forehead,
While his dismal tale is told.

‘I by twenty sail attended
Did this Spanish town affright:
Nothing then its wealth defended
But my orders not to fight.
Oh! that in this rolling ocean
I had cast them with disdain,
And obey’d my heart’s warm motion,
To have quell’d the pride of Spain!

‘For resistance I could fear none,
But with twenty ships had done
What thou, brave and happy Vernon,
Hast achieved with six alone.
Then the Bastimentos never
Had our foul dishonour seen,
Nor the sea the sad receiver
Of this gallant train had been.

‘Thus, like thee proud Spain dismaying,
And her galleons leading home,
Though condemn’d for disobeying,
I had met a traitor’s doom;
To have fallen, my country crying,
He has play’d an English part,
Had been better far than dying,
Of a griev’d and broken heart.

‘Unrepining at thy glory,
Thy successful arms we hail;
But remember our sad story,
And let Hosier’s wrongs prevail.
Sent in this foul clime to languish,
Think what thousands fell in vain,
Wasted with disease and anguish,
Not in glorious battle slain.

‘Hence with all my train attending,
From their oozy tombs below,
Through the hoary foam ascending,
Here I feed my constant woe:
Here the Bastimentos viewing,
We recall our shameful doom,
And, our plaintive cries renewing,
Wander through the midnight gloom.

‘O’er these waves for ever mourning
Shall we roam depriv’d of rest,
If to Britain’s shores returning
You neglect my just request.
After this proud foe subduing,
When your Patriot friends you see,
Think on vengeance for my ruin,
And for England sham’d in me!’

_VERNON’S GLORY: OR, THE SPANIARDS’ DEFEAT._

Being an account of the taking of Carthagena by Vice-Admiral Vernon, Rear-Admiral Ogle, and Commodore Lestock, on the First of April last. Written by a sailor on board the _Shrewsbury_, and brought over by the _Spence_ sloop.

Tune of _Brave Vernon’s Triumph_.

Once more, brave boys, let us proclaim
Brave noble Admiral Vernon’s fame,
With Sir Chaloner Ogle too:
They now have made the Spaniards rue;
For Carthageen they now have ta’en,
And laid it level with the ground;
Seven castles so brave their town could not save,
For Vernon and Ogle have beat them down.

Last March we did from Jamaica sail
With a fair and gentle gale;
Vice-Admiral Vernon of the Blue,
Sir Chaloner Ogle, Rear-Admiral too,
With Lestock Commodore, we made our cannons roar,
And two-and-twenty frigates besides:
Thirty ships of the line, a sight very fine,
Before Carthageen at anchor to ride.

Bocachica Castle first we took,
Which made the Spaniards blue to look;
That being of the largest force,
The other six did fall of course:
With our cannons and bombs we dismounted their guns,
And our colours did on their Castles raise:
Then toss off a glass, and about let it pass,
To Admiral Vernon’s and Ogle’s praise.

For twelve hours’ space we bombarded the town,
Before we brought their proud spirits down;
We fir’d so smart that they thought we were mad,
At length to surrender they were glad.
We did so cannonade, and such breaches we made,
And many of their houses set in a flame;
They did submit to fate, and the town surrender[ed]
To Admiral Vernon, the scourge of Spain.

The _Shrewsbury_ she did suffer most,
And many of her sailors were lost;
Her cable broke, on the Castles she drove,
And there expected she would have stove;
But kind Providence stood in her defence:
Much shatter’d at last she clear’d her way.
Her jolly sailors bold, those noble hearts of gold,
All the time shew’d the Spaniards gallant play.

Don Blass with six ships in the harbour lay,
And soon we shew’d him British play;
We made that proud and hectoring Don
Coward-like from his ship to run;
Tho’ his ship he forsook, two captains we took
And unto England brought them home;
Let th’ insulting foe and proud Don know
Vernon can conquer wherever he comes.

Six galleons did there remain,
Which by our fleet were burnt or ta’en:
And tho’ their treasure was on shore
Yet we found a sufficient store;
For plunder, my boys, did crown our joys
After that strong place we had won:
We did revel and roar and booze it on shore,
And forgot all the dangers we had run.

In the king’s store-house we found
The value of several thousand pounds,
Which with great joy we brought away,
And did on board our ships convey:
Our success was crown’d with plunder we found,
While the cowardly Spaniards from us fled;
So great was their fear, they would not us come near,
For Vernon had fill’d them all with dread.

When we had all their treasure seiz’d,
And freely plunder’d where we pleas’d,
And none but rubbish did remain,
Their store-houses we set on flames:
Thus we burnt them down quite unto the ground:
A heap of ashes for to view;
Let the cowards know, tho’ they did insult us so,
What noble Admiral Vernon can do.

Our jolly tars, brave, noble hearts,
And the brave marines did play their parts;
The officers their orders gave,
Which the men performed as brave.
They never did flinch, nor gave back an inch,
But sweet revenge was all their cry:
They scorn’d for to run from the mouth of a gun,
But with Vernon and Ogle would conquer or die.

For the proud Queen of Spain we care not a fart!
For Carthageen she may break her heart;
Of Don Blass, that cowardly tool,
Brave Vernon did make an April fool:
For ’twas upon that day we made him run away,
Unto our noble admiral’s fame:
Then fill a brimming glass, and round let it pass,
To Admiral Vernon and Ogle’s name.

Come, brave boys, a health begin,
And fill your glasses to the brim;
A health to Admiral Vernon brave;
To Sir Chaloner Ogle another we’ll have;
To each jolly tar and marine that was there,
Whose courage the[n] was bravely seen;
To Lestock, Commodore, and many thousands more,
Who assisted at taking of Carthageen.

_THE SAPHIRAH [sic] IN TRIUMPH: OR, BRITISH VALOR DISPLAY’D._

Compos’d by James Craft, who lost his arm in the action.

Come you jovial British fellows, listen, pray, to what I write,
Honour jolly English sailors, for their nation they do fight;
It was with courage most undaunted from Port Rhode the _Sapphire_
sail’d,
By mishap our cable parted, but we soon the Spaniards quell’d.

A full intent to batter Vigo, our full force was only forty guns,
Which to them does plainly show, sir, what courage in the English
runs;
With spreading sails we plough’d the ocean, the seas indeed ran
mountains high,
Not fearing death to gain promotion, with proud Spain our valour try.

All along their coast we sailed, the wind it blowed very hard;
Our main-top-sail yard it failed, but we it did not regard.
We did soon their harbour enter, they prepared for us were,
And we boldly in did venture without any dread or fear.

As soon as ever we came nigh them they did fire at us first;
We not wanting to pass by them immediately our anchor cast.
And up went our bloody pennant and defy’d their cannon-ball,
We made to run both landlord and tenant, and behind to leave their
all.

No quarters from them we requir’d, they did see us boldly bent;
Kill or be kill’d we designed, that indeed was our intent.
Then our cannon roar’d like thunder, sweeter musick who could hear?
They did make our foes to wonder, fill’d their hearts with dread
and fear.

Their privateers at anchor lying we did sink before their face;
Women with their children crying from the town did run a-pace.
By us their prison was confounded: to some it proved a happy day;
Such as were not kill’d or wounded took to their heels and run away.

Their nunnery did feel our fury, their blind zeal could not them
save;
Some in confusion and great hurry were sent by us to their grave.
About their ears their houses tumbled, which no doubt did grieve
them sore;
Was ever haughty Spain so humbled by one small ship as now before?

Two thousand shot and more we fir’d at their churches, forts, and
town,
It made us laugh till we were tir’d to see their houses tumble down:
Seventeen hundred and forty-four, sir, January the fifteenth day,
That we made the Spaniards rue, sir, our most noble British play.

We had in this bold action one man killed, and no more;
Which I think was enough to vex ’em, they having many in their gore.
Had the day but longer lasted, and our ship not damnify’d,
We’d made them surrender, we protested, or would all have surely
dy’d.

We then soon for Lisbon sailed, where we got wine our hearts to
cheer.
At Vigo widows their fates bewailed, and curst the time that we
came there.
I wish that all our brave commanders, who sail the seas for
Britain’s right,
May like bold Holmes prove Alexanders, not fearing death when they
do fight.

May he meet with a just treatment from our nation for the same,
For so bold and brave defeatment none but cowards can him blame.
Little Laughton, our third lieutenant, did at that time great
valour show;
King and country’s bold defendant, beloved by all that does him
know.

Bring us wine, let it be sherry, fill the glass up to the brink;
Drown all sorrows and be merry; to our noble captain drink.
Pray God send our royal master George the Second long to reign,
For to meet with no disaster, but the victory always gain.

_ADMIRAL MATTHEWS’ ENGAGEMENT AGAINST THE COMBINED FLEETS OF FRANCE AND SPAIN._

Brave Admiral Matthews has been on the main,
With a true British heart, against France and Spain;
Resolving to fight for old England once more,
And make them knock under before he gives o’er;
For there never was such a bold fleet, as they say,
Sent out by Old England this many a day.

He had not long been on the sea, it is true,
Before [that] in sight there appear’d in his view
Twenty-eight sail of the French and proud Spain,
Who swiftly w[ere] sailing along the salt main.
Then he cry’d, ‘My brave boys, look, see how they ride!
I hope in small time we shall soon cool their pride.’

We hoisted our sails, and away then we went,
With our guns all ready, and hearts likewise bent,
Until that we come to the view of them all;
Then strait our brave admiral unto us did call,
At the word of command to make ready with speed,
‘For I think the proud Dons will fight us indeed.’

But the wind prov’d contrary, we could not pursue,
Altho’ that we had them so full in our view;
And for to deceive us they did lay in wait,
Thinking we should follow them up to the Straits:
Though our good God was pleas’d to alter the wind,
Yet fortune unto us it proved unkind.

There is an old proverb I’ve lately thought on,
‘When you think of a friend you’re sure to find none’;
For when that I thought to see Lestock come by,
He was five miles a distance, and would not come nigh;
But for all that misfortune, we never could start,
We pursued after them with a true British heart.

A mile’s distance next day, they at us did fire,
But in half an hour we to them drew nigher,
Until that we came within pistol-shot,
Then we did let fly; and why should we not?
As we sent ’em one broadside, another did come,
Which made our cannons [to] play, bomb! bomb!

Our admiral then took his glass in his hand,
To espy what he could, as you shall understand;
A double shot came unto him so nigh,
That it took off the place where his arm did lye.
But for that misfortune, and all that foul play,
He held ’em six hours in hot battle that day.

The night being come, they straightway gave o’er,
And went off with their cripples; we see ’em no more.
But now that the war is proclaim’d against France,
When we see them again we’ll make ’em to prance;
And if ever they into our presence do come,
We’ll make our cannons play ‘Britons, strike home.’

Then straightway we left them in grief to complain,
Whilst we are carousing along the salt main.
Pray God bless our fleet, and his Majesty too,
And grant them success wherever they go.
Concluding as this, and my song to end,
In Matthews’ brave ship these verses were penn’d.

_A NEW SONG IN PRAISE OF BRAVE CAPTAIN HORNSBY._

Come all you brave sailors that plough on the main,
And hear of the brave Captain Hornsby by name;
How bravely he acted and play’d his own part,
That he made the proud Frenchmen to quake in their hearts.

The French captain came up, and said, ‘You English dog, strike.’
‘Not so,’ said brave Hornsby, ‘I first chuse to fight,
To strike to a Frenchman I hold it so base,
That I rather chuse to die in this place.’

The Frenchmen then boarded his vessel straightway,
And brave Captain Hornsby did shew them fine play;
He fought them five hours, five hours or more,
’Till thirty-six Frenchmen lay dead in their gore.

All the men that he had on his ship were but eight,
And yet to a Frenchman he scorn’d for to strike;
Tho’ he had but one man for the Frenchman’s ten,
He both burnt his vessel and drown’d all his men.

Come, all ye brave sailors that plough on the main,
Remember the brave Captain Hornsby, by name;
And if that a Frenchman commands you to strike,
Give answer like Hornsby, you first chuse to fight.

If you take a good courage, and have a strong faith,
Trust in your Creator, he’ll ne’er you forsake;
If you have but one man for the Frenchman’s ten,
You may both sink his vessel and drown all his men.

Now brave Captain Hornsby, as I have been told,
Has got as a present a medal of gold;
Besides a fine chain of gold so bright,
Because the proud French he so bravely did fight.

Likewise every man in his ship, as we hear,
Has had five pounds paid him down for his share;
The boys forty shillings a piece they have got
For standing so bravely against the French shot.

Now all you brave heroes that heareth this song,
I beg you excuse if any, thing be wrong;
For I am no poet, nor scholar I swear,
But I love loyal subjects I vow and declare.

So let’s all in the praise of Hornsby now sing,
For whom bonfires did blaze, and bells they did ring;
To hear of this battle so gallantly got,
And he and his men so preserved from the shot.

And now to conclude of brave Hornsby so bold,
I wish he was master of a million of gold;
For fighting so boldly against the proud French,
And laying them low in a watery trench.
Tho’ he had but one man to the Frenchman’s ten,
Yet he sunk both his vessel, and drown’d all his men.

_CAPTAIN COBB’S BRAVERY._

Captain Cobb in Lynn doth dwell, a man of worthy fame,
He went on board the bold _Bacchus_, a ship of lovely fame, _fal
lal lal, etc._

From Lynn to Port there we were bound, and for to load with wine;
And as we were returning home, a privateer espyed.

Our master bold said, ‘Every man stand true [un]to his gun;
And let us give them a full broadside, and see if we can them shun.’

No sooner we had fired at them, but the Spaniards returned the same;
We tacked our ship about again, and gave them [a]thump for their
pain.

The second broadside the Spaniard [fired] they wounded our captain
sore,
‘For quarters, quarters,’ our captain [cried]; ‘No, damn it,’ the
boatswain swore,

‘Go you down into your cabin, and leave all things to me;
I’ll warrant I’ll make them all stand true, and will gain the
victory.’

We had no more than fourteen men, and two boys which made sixteen;
We fought with a hundred and twenty-four men, and cleared our way
of them.

There were thirty of them boarded us, a dreadful sight to see,
I could not get my gun to fire, and sore it did grieve me.

A blunderbuss I took in hand, and did them sweetly bang;
Some we drove into the sea, and some on the deck lay slain.

And the rest of them that was left alive, their arms we took from
them;
And stowed them close down in their hold, till to England we came.

We began at four in the afternoon, and fought while eight at night;
And before we had fired at her larboard side on her we ’spyed a
light.

No sooner [had] we fired at her, no more of her we could see,
God knows whether we sunk her, or whether she run away.

The Heavens above alone did us love, o’er our enemies to prevail;
So we set sail and away we came, with a fine and pleasant gale.

When to old England we come, and our merchants do hear of the same,
I hope they will some kindness shew, and reward us for our pains.

If every Englishman like us would fight upon the sea,
They need not fear to sail the seas, nor to face the enemy.

_THE PRINCESS ROYAL’S ESCAPE FROM THE GOODWIN SANDS._

Come all you jolly sailors that to the seas are bent,
I’ll tell you of a story that shall make your hearts relent,
It’s of the _Princess Royal_, that gallant ship of fame,
Commanded by bold Captain Lee by name.

On the seventh of February from the Nore we did sail,
Our topsails a flying with a fine and pleasant gale,
But no further then the Gun-fleet that night could we go
Where we lost our pinnace and three men in her also.

So then for the Gun-fleet we quickly did sail,
All for the Downs with a fine and pleasant gale,
And when we came down there our orders were so,
No further then the Downs our ship was to go,

And there for to wait to join our fleet,
All with Sir John Norris the French fleet to meet.
On the seventh day our fleet they came in,
Expecting at Dungeness the French fleet to trim.

So then from the Downs we quickly did sail,
All for Dungeness the French to prevail,
But then off Folkstone we was forc’d to bring to,
Where the French fleet did appear in our view.

Our captain on board the admiral he went,
To let him know our losses it was our full intent,
The admiral he order’d us to Spithead with speed,
But our thiler being broke we turn’d back again.

Four anchors we lost which grieved us full sore,
To think we had but one anchor and cable more,
So we stear’d for the Downs and when we came there
We let go our last anchor in despair.

Right on the Goodwin Sands O the wind it did blow,
Which fill’d our whole ship’s company all full of woe.
But thanks be to God our cable it did hold,
Which saved the lives of so many sailors bold.

So now my lads since the danger it is o’er,
How merry we will be boys if e’er we get on shore,
With full flowing bowls the bumpers shall go round
With our lasses upon our knees our sorrows to drown.

So now to conclude and end my song,
It was a brisk young sailor unto the ship belong’d
It was a brisk young sailor that these lines did make,
And o’er a can of flip his heart would never ake.

_THE LOSS OF THE VICTORY MAN-OF-WAR._

Good people all, pray give attention, to this fatal tragedy,
Which I am bound to mention of the gallant _Victory_:
Fourteen hundred souls did perish, and are to the bottom gone,
Oh! the dismal grief and horror of their widows left alone.

When we first from Spithead sailed, convoy unto Lisbon bound,
They with good flip and punch regaled a brave new ship both right
and sound:
A hundred and ten guns she mounted, all of brass so smart and clean,
The best ship in the Navy counted, but alas! no more is seen.

But the voyage proved fatal, as by the sequel we shall find,
For as she was home returning, she was off Scilly left behind
In a dreadful storm of lightning, and of hail and thunder too,
And has never since been heard of, the fatherless have cause to rue,

From Alderney we’ve information that they heard that stormy night,
At least ninety guns to fire which did them something affright:
But as the more the storm increased it gave them more room to guess
That some ship upon the ocean, was in sad and deep distress.

We saw floating some days after some spare yards were drove on shore,
On which was the name _Victory_, this gave us suspicion more:
That the noble ship was stranded on the Gaskets was our fear,
Long we waited with impatience, but no news of them could hear.

The brave gallant Admiral Balchen with fourteen hundred men beside,
If she’s lost, went to the bottom, and all at once together died:
Oh! the dismal grief and horror if one had been there to see,
How they all were struck with horror when sunk down the _Victory_.

O! the sad and dismal story, I’m griev’d when I the same relate,
So many blasted in their glory and at once shared the same fate:
Some thinking on their wives and children, and some on their
parents dear,
Sunk to the bottom in a moment, and no time to say a prayer.

O _Victory_! thou wast unlucky, but once before was out at sea,
In the night run foul of the _Lion_, and her carved work took away:
Now thou art gone to the bottom with a jovial company,
An admiral, marines and sailors, most unhappy _Victory_!

Oh! the grief of mournful widows, and their children fatherless,
And the grief of tender parents, is more than what I can express:
Some lamenting for their sweethearts overwhelm’d with grief we see,
Each one laments his dear relation, Oh! the fatal _Victory_!

Children crying for their fathers, widows weeping in distress,
God will surely be their comfort, and protect the fatherless.
He’ll be a husband to the widow that loves honest industry,
And does give them His protection; farewell fatal _Victory_!

_DISCONSOLATE JUDY’S LAMENTATION FOR THE ABSENCE OF HER TRUE LOVE JOHNNY, ON BOARD THE VICTORY, WITH ADMIRAL BALCHEN, NOW MISSING._

Tune of _Down by a Crystal River Side_.

Come pity me, young maidens all,
Who am brought into wretched thrall,
My love was prest away to sea,
And is on board the _Victory_.

When of him I did take my leave,
He said, ‘Dear Judy, do not grieve;
Altho’ I absent from you be,
Stout is our ship, the _Victory_.

‘Brave Balchen is a gallant man,
And will conduct us safe to land;
Then my dear Judy I shall see,
When safe returns the _Victory_.’

Ah! John, indeed my heart did fail,
When you to Lisbon was to sail,
For dangers they are great at sea,
Oh! now where is the _Victory_.

O John, my lovely sailor dear,
My heart is sore opprest with fear;
A letter, true love, send to me,
From on board the _Victory_.

No cruel balls has hurt my dear,
No fatal rocks you have come near,
Nor taken by an enemy,
You nor the gallant _Victory_.

Nine hundred men on board you have,
A jolly crew both stout and brave
As ever did go out to sea,
God send safe home the _Victory_.

Dear Johnny, I at Portsmouth wait,
And watch for you early and late,
Wishing each moment for to see
Come sailing in the _Victory_.

_ENGLAND’S GLORY; OR THE FRENCH KING STRIPPED._

Being a new song compos’d by Capt. Roberts, in praise of those bold sailors belonging to the _Prince Frederick_, and _Duke_ Privateers, who took the two French ships with forty five waggon loads of money on board, which was brought through the City in triumph to the Tower.

Tune of _Avast! Honest Mess-mate_.

Come all you jolly seamen, that’s willing to enter
On board of the _Duke_, your lives for to venture,
On board of the _Duke_, she’s called by name,
She cruizes the seas for old England’s fame.
_Fal, etc._

The fourth day of May from the Downs we set sail,
O, we were blest with a very fine gale:
And with the _Prince Frederick_ being our Commodore,
We steered away, boys, for the Canary shore.
_Fal, etc._

The tenth day of July, it being very clear,
We espy’d three ships belonging to Mounsieur;
O, these three ships were coming from Peru,
With gold and silver, boys, all in our view.
_Fal, etc._

A broadside from these French dogs we did receive,
But quickly two for one O we did them give:
But then at length they would no longer fight,
‘Our ships are a sinking’ for quarter they cry’d.
_Fal, etc._

We hoisted out our pinnace, went to them straitway,
We boarded two of their ships the very same day;
We brought all the prisoners on board our own ship,
Our hearts then within us began for to leap.
_Fal, etc._

Then we went to Kingsale, being the nearest place,
That we durst go to for to show our face:
Where we had good wine and punch in gollore,
And rum and brandy, boys, all in good store.
_Fal, etc._

_THE LUCKY SAILOR; OR THE SAILOR’S INVITATION TO GO WITH ADMIRAL ANSON._

Come jolly sailors, join with me,
Come jolly sailors, join with me,
To fight with Anson for renown,
That we the French pride may pull down!
We’ll take ’em all upon the seas;
We’ll take ’em all upon the seas;
We’ll make ’em strike where’er we meet,
Or serve ’em all as we’ve done these.

My boys, you heard what we have done, (_bis_)
Ten sail of men-of-war we took,
And made the merchant-men to run;
Our admiral he ordered then, (_bis_)
Three men-of-war to chase ’em all,
To sink and take whate’er they can.

The _Centurion_ first led the van, (_bis_)
And held ’em till we came up;
Then we their hides did sorely bang,
Our broadsides we on them did pour, (_bis_)
We gave the French a sower d[r]ench,
And soon their topsails made them lower.

And when they saw our fleet come up, (_bis_)
They for quarters call’d without delay,
And their colours they that moment struck
O! how we did rejoice and sing, (_bis_)
To see such prizes we had took,
For ourselves and for George our King.

O! now, my boys, I’m come on shore, (_bis_)
I’ll make you drink before we part;
Such luck I never had before.
Here is a health to those brave men, (_bis_)
That did command this noble fleet,
Bold Anson and brave Warren.

My boys our prizes is arrived, (_bis_)
Which when the people they did see,
It did their very hearts revive.
With joy and mirth we spent the night, (_bis_)
In drinking loyal healths all round,
It was such a welcome sight.

Our ships are all a fitting up, (_bis_)
Again with Anson we will go,
I wish we may have but good luck.
My boy, I’d have you to go too, (_bis_)
For Anson is a lucky man,
Where’er he comes he makes ’em rue.

This is the second time you’ve seen (_bis_)
The waggon loads of money come,
And all taken by brave Anson.
Come now, my boys, drink off a glass; (_bis_)
Let’s not forget now we’re come home,
Each bold sailor’s pretty lass.

_TIT FOR TAT: A SEA KICK FOR A LAND CUFF._

Being the sailors’ song upon our having a Hawke’s eye on the French fleet, the fourteenth of October last [1747].

1

Ring, ring out our bells! and to Calais from Dover
Let our cannons loud roar carry France the news over,
That the balance of land and sea war we’ve brought home,
And our prizes, at Portsmouth, pay their Bergen-opzoom.
So Huzzah! to King George, boys; long, long may he reign,
By the right of old England, long lord of the main!
_So Huzzah! to King George, etc._

2

Now hark! and you’ll hear (and with truth ’twill be told)
How the seas have been swept by his true hearts of gold:
In the month of October, to West Indies bound,
A fleet so becrowded with numbers we found,
Tho’ our ken could not count ’em, our first chasing gun
Observ’d ’em less forward to fight than to run.
_Tho’ our ken could not count ’em, etc._

3

All, all hands aloft, and away ’fore the wind,
Full sail sped their merchants, from convoys behind;
Yet, to do their tall ships the true honour we owe ’em,
Tho’ to beat was above ’em, to fly was below ’em.
But their cargoes, in danger, had no time to talk;
So like pigeons they flew from our bold British Hawk.
_But their cargoes, in danger, etc._

4

Now broadsides to broadsides, smash! thro’ and thro’ boring,
Made the sea seem a forest of lions all roaring!
But the _Severn’s_ bruised ribs felt our shot fly so sore,
That her loud fifty mouths never spoke a word more.
So silenc’d we left her, without more concern,
To be catch’d, as we saw, by our frigates astern.
_So silenc’d we left her, etc._

5

Of their _Trident_ our _Devonshire_ came alongside,
And souse! in her guts, such a dose did she hide,
That the rummaging pills almost work’d her to death,
For she soon, like the _Severn_, lay gasping for breath.
Then bounce! came their _Terrible_--foul on a _Tartar_;
But she too sung small, till she cry’d out for quarter.
_Then bounce! came their Terrible, etc._

6

Now shatter’d and batter’d (Morbleu! such a sight!)
Their _Thunder_ knock’d under, and stole off by night;
When six of their squadron, that scarcely could creep,
We lugg’d and tugg’d home, in our harbours to sleep.
And so large were their hulks, tho’ we ply’d ’em with rubbing,
To be sure their thick hides took a good deal of drubbing.
_And so large were their hulks, etc._

7

And now, the next year, when the prizes we’ve made
By our own hands are mann’d out, we’ll drive a French trade;
While the sea is our market, for squadrons we’ll barter,
And give for first rates only bullets and quarter!
So, Huzzah! to King George, boys; long, long may he reign,
By the right of old England, long lord of the main.
_So, Huzzah! etc._

8

While our salt water walls so begird us about,
And our cruisers, and bruisers, keep good looking out,
What force need old England to fear can offend her,
From France, or from Spain, or a Popish Pretender?
So, Huzzah! to King George, boys; long, long may he reign,
By the right of old England, long lord of the main.
_So Huzzah! etc._

_A NEW SONG ON ADMIRAL KNOWLS TAKING PORT LOUIS._

Tune of _Duke of Lorain and the Princess Royal_.

Let every loyal Briton sing
Prosperity to George our King;
He that refuses let him swing,
As many has done before him;
But I shall raise my chearfull voice,
Let Englishmen with me rejoice,
For valiant Knowls, huzza! brave boys,
The sailor does admire.

Hispaniola and Louis Port
Afforded Englishmen brave sport.
Brave news, brave news for the British Court,
Those places both are taken;
We’ve taken Pondicherry too.
Another scene appears in view:
Jago de Cuba soon must rue,
If I am not mistaken.

It is such valiant acts as these
That makes Mounsieur cry out for peace:
Morblue hostilities pray cease
And I’ll return all Flanders!
Let all true Britons fill their bowls,
A health to that hero Admiral Knowls,
A health to our Brittish sailors bold
That fought with this brave comander.

Another glass to the sailors brave
That with him such proofs of valour gave;
Confusion to the rebel slave
That does refuse to drink it!
Let all true Britons fill their bowls:
A health to hero Admiral Knowls,
A health to our British sailors bold
That fought with this brave commander.

_A NEW SONG._

Sung by HANNAH SNELL, alias JAMES GRAY, at the New-Wells _Goodman’s Fields_.

Tune of _Come and listen to my Ditty, etc._

I.

All ye noble British spirits that midst dangers glory sought,
Let it lessen not your merit that a woman bravely fought:
Cupid slily first inroll’d me, Pallas next her force did bring,
Press’d my heart to venture boldly for my love and for my King.

II.

Sailorlike, to fear a stranger, straight I ventured on the main,
Facing death and every danger, love and glory to obtain;
Tell me, you who hear my story, what could more my courage move?--
George’s name inspired with glory, William was the man I lov’d.

III.

When from William Susan parted she but wept and shook her hand;
I, more bold (tho’ tender-hearted), left my friends and native land;
Bravely by his side, maintaining British rights, I shed my blood,
Still to him unknown remaining, watch’d to serve and do him good.

IV.

In the midst of blood and slaughter, bravely fighting for my King,
Facing death from every quarter, fame and conquest home to bring;
Sure you’ll own ’tis more than common, and the world proclaim it too,
Never yet did any woman more for love and glory do.

_THE LIGHTERMAN’S PRENTICE PREST AND SENT TO SEA._