Chapter VIII: Part 8

But Susan and they strait haul’d him away,
While Tom, the poor taylor, did sigh, beg, and pray;
Yet all was in vain, for they did him retain,
And told him that now he must fight on the main,
_Tho’ a taylor_.

Then to White Hart Yard they went with regard,
And there a poor taylor was labouring hard
Upon his shop-board. Nan drew out her sword,
Saying he must King William his service afford,
_Tho’ a taylor_.

The taylor did quake--nay, quiver and shake.
At length with a pitiful voice he did spake,
While tears down did run; he cry’d, ‘I’m undone.
I never did know the right end of a gun;
_I’m a taylor_.’

Then stout Boston Bess said, ‘Nevertheless
You must go with us, we’ve a warrant to press;
Then wave this excuse, and lay by your goose;
Such nimble young fellows may be of great use,
_Tho’ only a taylor_.’

And then, by report, they went to Round Court,
Where seven young taylors were making of sp[ort],
Their hearts void of care, who when they come the[re],
These maids did catch napping, as Moss catch’d [his] ma[re],
_Seven taylors_.

They thought to resist, but Joan with her fist,
She thumpt them about till the taylors they pi[ ],
And then in a rage the rest did engage,
And brought them away to the round-house or ca[ge],
_These poor taylors_.

With all might and main down to Dutchy Lane
These petticoat press-masters hurried again,
To press some they knew: ’twas Morgan and Hu[gh],
A couple belong’d to the cross-legged crew,
_And Welsh taylors_.

Then Morgan hur railes, crys, ‘Splutter-a-nails,
Hur newly come up to fair London from Wales;
Then pray cease your strife, hur has a young wife,
Besides hur was never yet kill’d in hur life.’
_A Welsh taylor._

But yet, right or wrong, they brought ’em along,
And happen’d to meet with three more in the thro[ng].
Then said lusty Jane, ‘You must serve King and Que[en]!’
And thus these stout females did press full fourte[en],
_And all taylors_.

_THE COURAGIOUS COMMANDER; OR, A BRIEF RELATION OF THAT MOST NOBLE ADVENTURE OF SIR CLOUDESLY SHOVELL, IN THE BAY OF DUBLIN, ON GOOD FRYDAY, IN BRINGING THE PELLICAN FRIGAT OUT OF THEIR HARBOUR IN TRIUMPH AND VICTORY._

To the Tune of _Let Cæsar live long_.

Now, noble brave boys, let the sweet trumpet sound,
While seamen with trophies of honour are crown’d;
For gracious King William they’ll fight till they dye,
And scorn from the face of a Tory to flye.
Sir brave Cloudesly Shovell sail’d to Dublin Bay,
And brought the brave _Pellican_ frigat away.

Bold James and his Teagues they did stand and behold
Our noble commander, couragious and bold,
Who ventur’d just close to the banks of their shore
And laid the proud enemy sprawling in gore:
With fire and sword, boys, we enter’d the bay,
And brought the brave _Pellican_ frigat away.

Our noble commander first enter’d aboard,
On the _Monmouth_ yacht; this did courage afford
To all the brave sailors of Protestant pride,
Who vow’d they wou’d venture to dye by his side;
Then crossing the bar they enter’d the bay,
And brought the brave _Pellican_ frigat away.

The Tory commander did fire amain,
While we did salute him with bullets again,
Till twenty or more of his rebells were kill’d.
Now when he our valour and courage beheld,
He straight cut his cable to flye from the fray,
But we brought the brave _Pellican_ frigat away.

The Protestants’ goods they were sending for France;
By us they were stopt--ay, and taken by chance,
Which made the poor French-men to swear, fret, and frown,
To see our brave seamen of fame and renown,
With what resolution our guns they did play,
When we brought the brave _Pellican_ frigat away.

The Tories came down with their foot and their horse,
And with their old master lamented his loss;
And into the water a party did ride,
Discharging their pistols against our ship’s side;
But like men of courage our guns we did play,
And brought the brave _Pellican_ frigat away.

‘You damn’d English dogs,’ one proud Monsieur did cry,
But straight at his horse we a bullet let flye;
He was in a rage to find such salutes,
That straight he was forc’d to shake off his jack-boots;
Then after the rebels our guns we did play,
And brought the brave _Pellican_ frigat away.

But here is one thing that is worthy of note:
Two Protestant boys they did wade to our boat;
We straight took them in, and their lives we did save:
An account of the fears of the rebels they gave.
Our streamers we spread, and our flags did display,
And brought the brave _Pellican_ frigat away.

This is but a rellish and taste of their doom;
Brave boys, we will down with the bullworks of Rome.
The rebels in France they may put their whole trust,
While we all their glory lay low in the dust.
With fire and sword, boys, we’l enter the fray
King William’s great army shall carry the day.

_THE SEAMEN’S VICTORY; OR, ADMIRAL KILLEGREW’S GLORIOUS CONQUEST OVER THE FRENCH FLEET, IN THE STREIGHTS, AS THEY WERE COMING FROM THOULON TOWARDS BREST_;

With the manner of taking three of their French men-of-war, and sinking two more; although the French Admiral vainly boasted he would recover Brest or Paradice, yet he shamefully run from the English fleet.

To the Tune of _The Spinning Wheel_.

Here’s joyfull news came late from sea;
’Tis of a gallant victory
Which o’er the French we did obtain
Upon the throbbing ocean main.
As soon as e’er they found our rage
The rogues was glad to disengage.

The French fleet sailing from Thoulon,
As we by letters understand,
To join with those that lay at Brest,
As some of them have since confest;
But our brave fleet with them did meet,
And made the Frenchmen soon retreat.

Five ships, with others, did advance,
Being the very pride of France:
The _Lewis_, _Dauphin_, and the _Sun_,
With others which were forced to run.
As by this ditty you shall hear,
Brave English boys, the coast did clear.

The French at first did brag and boast,
But we so wisely rul’d the roast,
Under our Admiral Killegrew,
That we engag’d and beat them too,
Declaring that we did not fear
The haughty rage of proud Monsieur.

Our admiral bore up amain,
Resolving that he would maintain
A sharp and bloudy fight with those
Who dare King William’s crown oppose:
Then broad-sides streight began to roar,
Which laid the French in reeking gore.

Right valiant seamen, fierce and bold,
Couragious noble hearts of gold,
All with a resolution bent,
Whole showers of shot to them they sent,
By which the French in hundreds fell:
Our guns did ring their passing-bell.

We pour’d our shot on e’ery side,
‘’Tis bravely done,’ the captain cry’d.
‘Though sharp and bloudy be the fray,
The French are beat; we have the day.
True English boys, ’twas bravely done;
See how the Frenchmen run, they run.’

Now while we did maintain the fight
Two French ships there we sunk downright,
And likewise have we taken three.
This crown’d our work with victory;
The noble, valiant Killegrew
After the rest do’s still pursue.

The French-men they did [soon] retreat;
They were a shatter’d, torn fleet.
But if he shall them overtake
A prize of all the rest he’ll make;
Couragious boys are sail’d with him,
Who freely ventures life and limb

Under the admiral’s command,
For to defend the native land.
May Heaven prosper still and bless
Our valiant soldiers’ good success,
That we hereafter may advance,
To shake the very crown of France.

_TORRINGTONIA; OR, A NEW COPY OF VERSES ON THE LATE SEA ENGAGEMENT._

To a Tune _Which nobody can deny_.

I sing not the battle (so fam’d) of Lepanto,
Nor what the Turks got by the siege of Otranto,
Nor the Spanish Armada so brave and gallanto,
_Which nobody can deny_.

Nor how they were bang’d by invincible Drake,
Nor the courage and conduct of excellent Blake,
Nor of men that fought bravely when all was at stake,
_Which nobody can deny_.

But a sort of sea-fight ’tween the French and Hollander,
Where th’ English had joyn’d, but that their commander-
In-chief wou’d not be a with- but a by-stander,
_Which nobody can deny_.

The Dutch to the enemy boldly drew near,
But th’ admiral o’th English more wisely did steer,
For he thought it was safer to keep in the rear,
_Which nobody can deny_.

Grafton (’twas said) came courageously in,
And by mauling the French great honour did win,
But Torr’ was resolv’d to sleep in a whole skin,
_Which nobody can deny_.

Had each ship and its captain but been independant,
They’d certainly made a [more] glorious end on’t,
Then commanded by such a stout superintendant,
_Which nobody can deny_.

Tyrrel and Dorrel did boldly stand to ’em
(Thinking to beat the French and to undo ’em),
But th’ Admiral only came thither to view ’em,
_Which nobody can deny_.

And tho’ the French fleet was so little esteem’d,
And their courage and conduct despisable deem’d,
To wise Herbert they plainly invincible seem’d,
_Which nobody can deny_.

Some ships too fool-hardy did headlong engage,
Which put the stout admiral in such a rage,
That nought but a whore could passion asswage,
_Which nobody can deny_.

When the shot from the enemy flying at random
Slew the stout hero’s dog, that could no way withstand ’em,
His bitches desired their master to land ’em,
_Which nobody can deny_.

’Twould make a man, much more a woman, agast, sir,
To see a dog kill’d ’twixt the leggs of his master,
Who much more deserv’d such a dismal disaster,
_Which nobody can deny_.

Some say that he wanted both powder and ball.
Be that true or false, it was certainly all
One to him, whose courage was so very small,
_Which nobody can deny_.

The Dutch at the enemy bravely did fire all,
Tho’ Arthur commanded the fleet to retire all,
For which if he be’nt hang’d we much shou’d admire all,
_Which nobody can deny_.

Tho’ the French for a time may bluster and boast
Of the honour they won by Torrington lost,
Their courage will cool when our fleet’s on their coast,
_Which nobody can deny_.

Not one town of theirs, nor two, three, nor four
Shall appease for the pranks they play’d on our shoar;
We have admirals now that will pay off the score,
_Which nobody can deny_.

Printed at the request of a Tarr for the diversion of the melancholly Widows of Wapping.

_ENGLAND’S TRIUMPH AT SEA_ [1691].

A mighty great fleet, the like was ne’re seen
Since the reign of King William and Mary his Queen,
Design’d the destruction of France to have been:
_Which nobody can deny_.

This fleet was compos’d of English and Dutch,
For ships, guns, and men there was never seen such;
Nor so little done, when expected so much:
_Which nobody can deny_.

Eighty-six ships of war, which we capitall call,
Besides frigats and tenders, and yachts that are small,
Sayl’d out, and did little or nothing at all:
_Which nobody can deny_.

Thirty-nine thousand and five hundred brave men,
Had they chanc’d to have met the French fleet, O then,
As they beat ’em last year, they’d have beat ’em agen:
_Which nobody can deny_.

Six thousand great guns, and seventy-eight more,
As great and as good as ever did roar;
It had been the same thing had they left ’em ashore
_Which nobody can deny_.

Torrington now must command ’em no more,
For we try’d what mettal he was made on before,
And ’tis better for him on land for to whore,
_Which nobody can deny_.

For a bullet, perhaps, from a rude cannon’s breach,
Which makes no distinction betwixt poor and rich,
Instead of his dog might have ta’ne off his bitch,
_Which nobody can deny_.

But Russell, the cherry-cheekt Russell, is chose
His fine self and his fleet at sea to expose;
But he will take care how he meets with his foes,
_Which nobody can deny_.

For there was a lady he left on land,
To whom he had promised his heart and his hand,
Though in her youth she was otherwise mann’d,
_Which nobody can deny_.

And why plump Russell who need never beg,
To move our compassion, goe venture a leg,
And break the heart of the good Lady Peg,
_Which nobody can deny_.

We had sea-collonells o’ th’ nature of otter,
Which either might serve by land or by water,
Tho’ of what they have done we hear no great matter,
_Which nobody can deny_.

In the month of May last they sailed on the main,
And now in September are come back again,
With the loss of some ships, but in battle none slain,
_Which nobody can deny_.

_ENGLAND’S GREAT LOSS BY A STORM OF WIND._

You gentlemen of England fair,
Who live at home free from all care,
Little do you think or know
What we poor sailors undergo:
We whine and toil upon the waves,
We work like Turks or galley slaves.

’Twas on November the second day
When first our admiral bore away;
Intending for his native shore,
The wind at west-south-west did roar,
Attended by a dismal sky,
And the seas did run full mountains high.

The very first land that we did make,
It chanc’d to be the old Ram’s Head,
Which made us all rejoice around
To see our flag-stem in Plymouth Sound,
Stretching well over for Fishes Nose,
Thinking to fetch up in [H]amose.

The tide of ebb not being done,
She set strong to the westward run,
Which put us all in dread and fear,
To see our ships, they would not wear,
The wind and weather increased sore,
And drove nine sail of ships on shore.

When we came to Northumberland Rock,
The _Lyon_, _Lynx_, and _Antelope_,
The _Loyalty_, and _Eagle_ too,
The _Elizabeth_ made all to rue:
She ran astern, and the line broke,
And sunk the _Hardwick_ at first stroke.

Now you shall hear the worst of all:
The largest ship had the greatest fall;
The great _Coronation_, and all her men,
Were all drown’d except nineteen;
The master’s mate, and eighteen more,
Got in their long boat safe on shore.

As to our ships, we value not,
Had it not fallen to our sailor’s lot;
The greatest loss is to their wives
In losing of their husbands’ lives;
And to Old England it may be more
Than nine sail of ships on shore.

[_NAVAL WARFARE OF 1692._]

To the Tune of _Aim not too high_.

To God alone let us all glory give,
By whose permission we poor mortals live,
And tho’ our enemies may swell with pride
He soon can compass them on every side.

King William is the glorious instrument,
Which by the providence of God was sent
To save our drooping laws and liberty
From French and Popish cruel tyranny.

When in dark gloomy cells the plot was laid
This free-born land and nation to invade,
Bold Brittain sail’d forthwith her royal fleet,
Which did the daring enemy defeat.

Renowned Russell let them understand
That, for the honour of his native land,
Thro’ smoke and flame he could with courage go
To face proud Lewis, that insulting foe.

No fear nor favour could his actions sway,
Nor could he in the least be drawn away
From acting like a noble hero bold,
For all the promised gifts of cursed gold.

[The] valiant Ashby let them feel his rage,
While death he rid in triumph o’er the stage
Of the French navy on the ocean main,
And English boys did victory obtain.

The spirits of the French began to faint,
So that they pray’d to ev’ry Popish saint
To help them in a time of sad distress;
Yet they were burnt and beaten ne’ertheless.

Admiral Carter fought them through and through,
The like of him before they never knew;
His chain-shot did their ships in pieces tear,
As if great Jove with thunder had been there.

Brave Delavall met with the _Rising Sun_
Of France, who to the shore for shelter run
With many more, which in a stately flame
He soon did set, our glory to proclaim.

Sir Cloudsly Shovel, with a valiant heart,
In this most glorious conquest bore a part;
His roaring cannons sunk them in the main,
From whence they never can return again.

The force of France he ne’er was known to fear,
But, like a stout commander, vow’d to clear
The seas of French, or they should make his grave
And monument in a rough roaring wave.

The next was Rook, that brave, heroick soul,
Who none alive could ever yet controul;
A dozen men-of-war of France he burn’d,
Who e’er next day was all to ashes turn’d.

The French was follow’d to their very shore,
Pursu’d with guns, which did like thunder roar:
Such admirals before was never known;
They scar’d old Lewis--nay, and shook his throne.

Nor were the valiant Dutch-men far behind:
They on the ocean bear a noble mind;
True sons of thunder, that will not retreat
Until they see their foes destroyed and beat.

Tho’ they had once been wounded on the main,
Like soldiers, they resolved to bleed again,
Or bring the proud insulting tyrant low,
Who strives to seek all Europe’s overthrow.

Those valiant souls let all good men commend;
Their lives they ventur’d freely to defend
Religion, laws, and likewise liberty:
’Tis better dye than live in slavery.

But God above, I hope, will ever bless
Our arms by sea and land with good success,
That victories may constantly increase
Till war is swallow’d in a glorious peace.

Now for King William let all subjects pray,
That God would guard his person night and day;
From all false friends, and likewise open foes,
Let angels guard him wheresoe’er he goes.

_THE ROYAL TRIUMPH; OR, THE UNSPEAKABLE JOY OF THE THREE KINGDOMS FOR THE GLORIOUS VICTORY OVER THE FRENCH BY THE ENGLISH AND DUTCH FLEETS, TO THE JOY AND COMFORT OF ALL TRUE SUBJECTS._

Tune is, _Let the soldiers rejoyce_.

Valiant Protestant boys,
Here’s millions of joys
And triumph now bro ... ught from the ocean;
For the French mighty fleet
Now is shatter’d and beat,
And destruction, destruction, boys, will be their portion.

Here’s the Jacobite crew--
Now believe me, ’tis true--
Invited the Fre ... nch to this nation;
Who was crossing the seas,
With the Teague Rapparees,
True cut-throats, true cut-throats, upon my salvation.

But, alas! they did find
A true Protestant wind,
Which five weeks or lon ... ger it lasted,
Till the most royal fleet,
And the Dutch both compleat,
They with thunder, with thunder this project soon blasted.

On the nineteenth of May
The French fleet made way,
To make of our cou ... rage a tryal;
They suppos’d we’d ne’er fight,
But they were’nt in the right,
For we show’d them, we show’d them we were true and loyal.

Our admirals bold,
With their brave hearts of gold,
They fell on like bra ... ve sons of thunder;
And their chain-shot let fly,
As the fleet they drew nigh,
Where they tore them, and rent them, and tore them asunder.

Our squadron, true blew,
Fought their way through and through;
At length in Lobs’ Po ... und, boys, we got ’um,
Where we gave the proud French
Such a fiery drench
That we sent them, we sent them straight down to the bottom.

Such a slaughter we made,
While the loud cannons play’d,
Which laid the poor Mo ... nsieurs a-bleeding;
Nay, their chief admiral
We did bitterly maul,
And have taught him, I hope, better breeding.

Our brave admiral
Being stout Dellaval,
Whose actions all m ... en may admire;
For the French _Rising Sun_
Was not able to run,
Which with seven, with seven more ships did he fire.

Valiant Rook sail’d straightway
Where a French squadron lay
Close amongst the ro ... cks then for shelter;
But we fell on galore,
And we fir’d twelve more;
Thus we fir’d and burn’d the French fleet helter-skelter.

Being sunk, took, and burn’d,
There’s not many return’d,
Was this not a wo ... full disaster?
How they far’d on our coast
Let ’em sail home and boast
To old Lewis, old Lewis, their fistula-master.

When he hears how they sped
It will strike him near dead,
Losing what he lo ... ng has been getting;
But we’ll have him to know
That we’ll still keep him low:
He shall never, shall never, boys, conquer Great Britain.

_ADMIRAL RUSSELL’S SCOWERING THE FRENCH FLEET; OR, THE BATTLE AT SEA._

Thursday in the morn, the Ides of May,
Recorded be for ever the famous ninety-two.
Brave Russel did discern by dawn of day
The lofty sails of France advancing now.
‘All hands aloft, aloft; let English valour shine.
Let fly a culvering, the signal of the line;
Let ev’ry hand supply his gun.
Follow me, and you’ll see
That the battle will be soon begun.’

Tourville o’er the main triumphant rowl’d
To meet the gallant Russel in combat on the deep;
He led the noble train of heroes bold
To sink the English admiral at his feet.
Now every valiant mind to victory does aspire;
The bloody fight’s begun, the sea itself on fire,
And mighty Fate stood looking on
Whilst a flood all of blood
Fill’d the port-holes of the _Royal Sun_.

Sulpher, smoak, and fire disturbed the air,
With thunder and wonder to fright the Gallick shore;
Their regulated bands stood trembling near
To see their lofty streamers now no more.
At six a clock the Red the smiling victor led,
To give a second blow, their total overthrow.
Now death and horror equal reign;
Now they cry, tun, or dye!
Brittish colours ride the vanquish’d main.

See they run amaz’d thro’ rocks on sands:
One danger they grasp at, to shun a greater fate.
In vain they crie for aid to weeping lands;
The nimphs and sea gods mourn their lost estate.
For ever more adieu, thou dazling _Royal Sun_;
From thy untimely end thy master’s fate begun:
Enough, thou mighty god of war.
Now we sing, ‘God bless the King,
Let us drink to ev’ry English tar.’

Come, jolly seamen, all with Russel go
To sail on the main, proud Monsieur for to greet
And give our enemy a second blow,
And fight Tourville if that he dare to meet.
Come, brother tar, what cheer? Let each [his gun] supply,
And thump ’em off this year, or make Mounsie[u]r to fly
While we do range the ocean round.
Day or night we will fight
When our enemy is to be found.

Let it ne’er be said that English boys
Should e’er stay behind when their admiral goes;
But let each honest lad crie with one voice,
‘Brave Russel, lead us on to fight the foes.’
We’ll give them gun for gun, some sink and other burn.
Broad-sides we’ll give ’em too, till Monsieur crys, ‘Morblew!
Des Engleteer vill kill us all.’
Whilst they scower we will pour
Thick as hail amongst them cannon-ball.

_A MERRY NEW BALLAD ON THE GREAT VICTORY OVER THE FRENCH FLEET, MAY THE 19th 1692._

To as merry a new Tune, _Hey! for the honour of Old England_.

I sing ye a ballad as round me ye stand,
Which is for the honour of Old England:
_Old England, Old England;
Which is for the honour of Old England_.

In the month of May, the year ninety-two,
The Englishman did his old valour show:
_Old England, Old England, etc._

We sent out our scouts the foe to descry
When Cape de Hague we were sailing by
_Old England, etc._

This was a good omen, we now understand,
And Lewis hates Hague by sea or by land:
_Old England, etc._

But in our Channel the battel was fought,
And so the French fleet in a net was caught,
_Net was caught, net was caught;
And so the French fleet in a net was caught_.

Yet Monsieur, expecting that all was his own,
On Admirall Russell did boldly bear down:
_Old England, etc._

He gave a broad-side, which was kindly took,
And then the _Britannia_ in thunder spoke,
_Thunder spoke, thunder spoke,
And then the ‘Britannia’ in thunder spoke_.

Till in musquet shot she fires no gun,
In compliment then salutes the French _Sun_,
_Old England, etc._

And warms her sides so that for all her might
She fairly tows off, and bids us good night:
_Old England, etc._

Thus have we been taught in a tale or old song,
French fury was never known to last long:
_Old England, etc._

When Tourville had given the signal to flye,
His squadrons, as ready, do westward, ho! ply:
_Old England, etc._

Some of his lame geese, not able to bear
Their heads above water, to the bottom they steer:
_Old England, etc._

The rest we pursue in their stragling flight,
And chase the poltrons most part of the night:
_Old England, Old England,
And hey! for the honour of Old England_.

The next morning was foggy; but when it grew clear
The chase was renew’d, and so was their fear:
_Old England, etc._

We made all our sail, and gave ’em no rest.
From point to point drove ’em, from west to east:
_Old England, etc._

Those coursers, so brisk at the starting-place,
Run heavily now through Alderney Race:
_Old England, etc._

Into Cherburgh Bay three tall ones did run,
Where a northern blaze burns up the south _Sun_:
_Old England, etc._

’Twas Heath did this feat; and Greenway another,
For the _Conquerant_ fell, in flames and in smother:
_Old England, etc._

And Fowlis was daring, though he miss’d his prey;
He flew at the _Sun_, but stoopt by the way:
_Old England, etc._

But now we are making for Bay Le Hogue,
Where on land, they say, are many a brogue:
_Old England, etc._

These doughty wights, those true Irish Teagues
Won’t let us come near ’em by several leagues:
_Old England, etc._

Such gallant alliance the French much imports;
They’ll save their friends’ ships, as they did their own forts:
_Old England, etc._

But manning our boats, those wise ones we cozen,
And burn in this bay thirteen to the dozen:
_Old England, etc._

This action’s far greater than that of Lepanto,
And merits alone a whole noble canto:
_Old England, etc._

For, like the old Britains, our men did assail ’em
In open boats, and naked we quail ’em:
_Old England, etc._

We storm’d their fore-castles, their decks we did scale,
And with their own canon we made ’em turn tale:
_Old England, etc._

Earl Danby commanded the headmost boat,
Which was in a moment from under him shot:
_Old England, etc._

Then a musquet ball does graze on his shin,
But still he goes on, more honour to win:
_Old England, etc._

Not a captain was here but toss’d up his brands;
The seamen were furies, with flames in their hands:
_Old England, etc._

What bonfires we made on our Norman coast!
Where William the Conqueror rules the roast:
_Rules the roast, rules the roast;
Where William the Conqueror rules the roast_.

But now in all pomps, where great men appear,
The post of honour is still in the reer:
_Old England, etc._

Brave Russel can never enough be prais’d;
Such trophies are owing as never were rais’d:
_Old England, etc._

To his courage and conduct great honours are due:
To all of the flag; the Red, White, and Blew:
_Old England, etc._

To Delaval, Almonde, Shovell, Ashby, Rook,
Whose names are all writ in Fame’s lasting book:
_Old England, etc._

To Carter, the bold! who never can die;
He only i’th’ bed of honour does lie:
_Old England, etc._

His story is great, for he comes not an ace
Behind Withrington in Old Chevy Chace.
_Old England, etc._

Nay, he is before him, for he fought on his stumps,
With joy in his face and not doleful dumps:
_Old England, etc._

Stout Hastings shall live; shall ever be famed,
With all our commanders, too long to be named:
_Old England, etc._

What need we say more? there is no occasion;
This French does excell the Spanish invasion:
_Old England, etc._

The downfall of Lewis le Grand is reckon’d
So far above that of Philip the Second:
_Old England, etc._

’Twas in eight eight Queen Bess swept the main,
In ninety-two Queen Mary the same:
_Old England, etc._

Now all English lads not enter’d their teens
Shall chant forth the praise of those Protestant Queens,
_Protestant Queens! Protestant Queens!
Shall chant out the praise of those Protestant Queens_.

Our London merchants will now live at ease,
May trade without convoys all over the seas:
_Old England, etc._

The New-Castle men may bring in their coals;
And never must Petres say Mass in Paul’s,
_Mass in Paul’s! Mass in Paul’s!
And never must Petres say Mass in Paul’s_.

_THE VALIANT SEAMEN’S COURAGE:_

Who by the order of the Right Honourable Admiral Russel did on the tenth of May perform a brave exploit on the French, burning thirty-eight sail of their merchantmen, and taking a man-of-war, to the great honour of the English nation.

To the Tune of _Fond boy_, etc.

Joyful tydings I bring; let us merrily sing
Till we make the whole nation with triumph to ring;
For an admiral, he, by his conduct at sea,
Now has made the poor French-men to come by the lee.
_This is but the beginning of what we intend
For to shew them before the brave summer does end._

A detachment sent out bravely scour’d about
Till they put a whole fleet of French ships to the rout;
We were four or five sail, who to fight never fail,
And the one carry’d fiery flames in her tail.
_This, etc._

To these merchants of France we did fairly advance;
So good was our fortunate, prosperous chance
That we put them in fear: to the shore they did steer,
While we follow’d with thundering shot in the reer.
_This, etc._

Some was sailing for Brest and St. Malo’s, we guest,
To fair Dunkirk with stores and provision the rest;
But their voyage we stay’d and fierce havock we made,
While our thundering cannons against them we play’d.
_This, etc._

Quoth the frighted Mounsieur, ‘To de shore let us steer,
Here is coming five sail of de proud Englateer;
Now, begar, let us run from de noise of deir gun,
Or dey’ll serve us as dey did our dear _Rising Sun_.’
_Yet this is but a taste, boys, of what we intend
For to give them before the brave summer does end._

As they fled in disgrace still we mended our pace,
And, like true sons of thunder, we follow’d the chase,
Where in harbour near shore thirty-eight sail or more
We did set all on fire; in flames they did roar.
_This, etc._

When our project did take, such a flame it did make,
Just as if the seas had been a fiery lake;
All their charges and cost of their cargo were lost:
Now was ever poor French-men so plaguely crost?
_This, etc._

It was on the tenth day of this sweet month of May
When the valiant bold Britains did shew them this play,
And we make no great doubt, e’er the summer is out,
For to give them a sharp and more vigorous rout.
_This, etc._

Boys, the work we’ll compleat with a most royal fleet,
For we valiant tarpollins do scorn to retreat;
Not a French-man we’ll spare; let them come if they dare
On the ocean, brave Russel will fight with them fair.
_This is but a beginning of what he intends
For to shew them before the brave summer it ends._

_ENGLAND’S GLORY IN THE BEHAVIOUR OF BRAVE KILLEYGROVE._

All you that will be England’s friends, be you rich or be you poor,
Give ear to me and I’ll relate what happened in ninety-four.
’Twas in the month of December--mark well but what I say--
The _Plymouth_, with five frigates more, set sail out of Cales Bay.

Brave Killeygrove was commodore, bound up into the Streights,
Where he lost his life with many more, and this was their hard fate.
When we came off the Cape Boner, two ships we did espy,
Which prov’d to be French men-of-war, and to us they drew nigh.

They took us to be merchant-men, come down from the Levant,
From Smyrna or from Scanderoon, from Venice or Mercant,
Till bearing down before the wind, the truth of it to view,
They took us to be men-of-war, and they found it to be true.

O, then they tack’d, and we stood after, as fast as we could hie,
But before it was full three o’clock to them we did draw nigh.
O, then bespoke brave Killeygrove, to his men both brisk and free,
‘I make no doubt but in little time our prizes they will be.’

The French were not unwilling to fight, but to fire they did begin;
Then we gave them a whole broadside, which made their ears to ring.
We had not fir’d passing two broadsides, as I remember well,
But there came an unlucky shot, by which brave Killeygrove fell.

Then Raleigh was the second man that did take up the sword;
And bravely he did manage it, as you may take my word.
We had not been engaged there not past one glass or two,
But that the _Falmouth_ she came up, and she gave the last her due.

Next came the little _Adventure_ up, and her guns she fir’d so true
She put Jack Frenchman to the rout, he knew not what to do.
We being quite disabled, the _Carlisle_ she made way
After the biggest of the two, and she carry’d her the next day.

But had our mast and tiller held, O! then they would have seen,
Notwithstanding, for all the _Carlisle_, our prizes they should
have been.
But, to conclude, they were taken both, for all they were so bold,
And soon after they were carried into Marseilles Mold.

_AN EXCELLENT SONG, CALL’D THE FRIGHTED FRENCH; OR, RUSSEL SCOURING THE SEAS._

To a Pleasant Tune.

Russel on the ocean, minding Tourville’s motion,
Made them to run at the noise of our guns,
And Toulon shall be their portion;
The French must trot it home by land,
Whilst Russel on the seas command.
Sound the trumpet, beat the drum, while the French do run,
_Sound the trumpet, etc., sound, etc., while the French do run
still before us_.

Now the spring’s a-coming, our English will be burning
Your towns that be builded near the sea;
You’ll find the sea-men booming;
Then let your armies all advance,
Yet we’ll lye on the coast of France,
Sounding trumpets, beating drum, while the towns do burn,
_Sounding trumpets, etc., sounding trumpets, towns do burn unto
ashes_.

The Turk and the barbarian, how the English fleet do scare ’em
And make them to know, before they do go,
That the French shall dread and fear ’em.
Now, Monsieur, bring out all you can;
We’ll fight you ship or man to man.
_Sound the trumpet, etc., sound, etc., man to man, we will fight
’em._

Each brave English freeman will be a jolly seaman;
With Russel we’ll go to fight the foe,
For the honour of Old England.
Let Tourville with his fleet then come;
Some we’ll sink and some we’ll burn.
Gun for gun we’ll give them too, while they cry, ‘Morbleu!’
_Gun for gun, etc., gun, etc., while they cry, ‘We are routed!’_

The Turks they are much grieved, altho’ they still believed
That the French fleet could the English beat,
But now they are deceived;
In Toulon they all do sneak and hide,
Whilst Russel in the Straights doth ride,
Daring Tourville for to come, and bring out his fleet,
_Daring Tourville, etc., daring, etc., bring out his fleet, for to
fight us_.

Since the French are frighted they by the world are slighted,
For Russel the brave is resolved for to have
The English nation righted;
He cares not what the French can do,
Since the Red squadron and the Blew
Are full resolved for to be masters of the sea,
_Are full resolved for to be, are, etc., masters, etc., in spite of
Monsieur_.

_THE CÆSAR’S VICTORY._

It being [an] account of a ship so called in her voyage to the East Indies, richly laden, [which] was beset with five sail of Pirates; but the Cæsar so rarely behaved herself that she came off with conquest and put her foes to flight, losing no more than one man, and but seven wounded, one of which was Francis Stevens, a Water-man, who formerly ply’d at Puddle-Dock, who lost his arm.

To the Tune of _Cannons rore_.

As we was sailing on the main,
Well laded with great store of gain,
We was in danger to be ta’en:
Five pirates ships appeared,
Who sailed up with courage bold,
As if they would not be contrould;
But we brave noble hearts of gold
Their courage never feared.

We soon did understand their will,
And therefore used our chiefest skill,
Resolving there our blood to spill
Rather than lose our _Cæsar_:
We vow’d she should not be their prey,
And therefore, boys, we show’d them play.
It was upon the Sabbath day:
No pirates could appease her.

The master, flourishing his sword,
Did comfort to us all afford,
Both seamen, souldiers then on board,
True courage to awaken;
Then with one voice we all did cry,
‘We are resolved to make them fly,
Or in the _Cæsar_ we will dye,
Rather than to be taken.’

Before the fight we this did do:
Our bread into the sea we threw,
To make room for the whole ship’s crew
To fight and keep foes under:
This truth can never be deny’d,
We soon did quell their haughty pride
By giving them a full broadside:
Our cannons roar’d like thunder.

Full five long hours there we fought,
In the brave _Cæsar_, fierce and stout;
At length we put them to the rout
Who aimed at our treasure:
We pour’d them in whole showers of lead,
So that they tumbled down for dead
And in the ocean made their bed,
Where they may lie their leisure.

Their admiral did want to be
Aboard of _Cæsar_, this we see,
That they might have rich plunder free,
The thing which they delight in:
But yet there was not one that dare
To come on board of _Cæsar_ there;
They knew their lives we would not spare,
So fierce we was for fighting.

Good Fortune she our courage crown’d,
Or else aboard on us they’d found
The sum of fourscore thousand pound,
Besides all other lading:
Could they but once have seen us fall,
Their booty then had not been small,
Two hundred thousand pound in all;
This would have spoil’d our trading.

I hope we gave them all their due,
Yet sav’d our coyn and cargo too.
Believe me, this is perfect true,
It is no feigned story:
For though our foes were five to one,
Yet we at last did make them run:
And when we see our work was done
To God we gave the glory,

Who did indeed our rights maintain;
For in this skirmish on the main
Of us there was but one man slain,
And seven others wounded:
But those that sought our overthrow,
They lost a many more, we know.
Thus Providence did kindness show
When we was so surrounded.

_A COPY OF VERSES, COMPOSED BY CAPTAIN HENRY EVERY, LATELY GONE TO SEA TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE._

To the Tune of _The Two English Travellers_.

Come, all you brave boys, whose courage is bold,
Will you venture with me? I’ll glut you with gold.
Make haste unto Corona: a ship you will find,
That’s called the _Fancy_, will pleasure your mind.

Captain Every is in her, and calls her his own;
He will box her about, boys, before he has done:
French, Spaniard, and Portuguese, the heathen likewise,
He has made a war with them until that he dies.

Her model’s like wax, and she sails like the wind;
She is rigg’d, and fitted, and curiously trimm’d,
And all things convenient has for his design.
God bless his poor Fancy, she’s bound for the mine.

Farewel, fair Plimouth, and Cat-Down be damn’d:
I once was part-owner of most of that land;
But as I am disown’d, so I’ll abdicate
My person from England to attend on my fate.

Then away from this climate and temperate zone,
To one that’s more torrid, you’ll hear I am gone
With an hundred and fifty brave sparks of this age,
Who are fully resolved their foes to engage.

These northern parts are not thrifty for me;
I’ll rise the Anterise, that some men shall see
I am not afraid to let the world know
That to the South Seas and to Persia I’ll go.

Our names shall be blaz[on]ed and spread in the sky,
And many brave places I hope to descry
Where never a French man e’er yet has been,
Nor any proud Dutchman can say he has seen.

My commission is large, and I made it myself,
And the capston shall stretch it full larger by half;
It was dated in Corona, believe it, my friend,
From the year ninety-three unto the world’s end.

I honour St. George, and his colours I were,
Good quarters I give, but no nation I spare;
The world must assist me with what I do want;
I’ll give them my bill when my money is scant.

Now this I do say and solemnly swear:
He that strikes to St. George the better shall fare
But he that refuses shall suddenly spy
Strange colours aboard of my Fancy to fly.

Four chiviliges of gold in a bloody field,
Environ’d with green, now this is my shield;
Yet call out for quarter before you do see
A bloody flag out, which is our decree.

No quarters to give, no quarters to take;
We save nothing living: alas! ’tis too late;
For we are now sworn by the bread and the wine,
More serious we are than any divine.

Now this is the course I intend for to steer;
My false-hearted nation, to you I declare
I have done thee no wrong, thou must me forgive;
The sword shall maintain me as long as I live.

_VILLANY REWARDED; OR, THE PIRATE’S LAST FAREWEL TO THE WORLD;_

Who was executed at Execution Dock on Wednesday, the 25th of November, 1696, being of Every’s crew; together with their Free Confession of their most Horrid Crimes.

To the Tune of _Russel’s Farewel_.

Well may the world against us cry; for these our deeds most base,
For which, alas! we now must dye, death looks us in the face,
Which is no more than what’s our due, since we so wicked were,
As here shall be declar’d to you. Let pyrates then take care.

We with our comrades, not yet ta’en, together did agree,
And stole a ship out from the Groyne, to roam upon the sea;
With which we robb’d and plundered too, no ship that we did spare.
Thus many a one we did undo. Let pyrats then take care.

Our ship being well stored then for this our enterprise,
One hundred and eighty men there was in her likewise:
We pillag’d all we could come nigh, no nation we did spare,
For which a shameful death we dye. Let pyrates then take care.

We robb’d a ship upon the seas, the _Gunsway_ call’d by name,
Which we met near the East Indies, and rifled the same;
In it was gold and silver store, of which all had a share;
Each man 600 pounds and more. Let pirates then take care.

Thus for some time we liv’d and reign’d as masters of the sea;
Every merchant we detain’d and us’d most cruelly.
The treasures took, we sunk the ship, and those that in it were
That would not unto us submit. Let pirates then take care.

Thus wickedly we every day liv’d upon others’ good,
The which, alas! we must repay now with our dearest blood;
For we on no one mercy took, nor any did we spare.
How can we then for mercy look? Let pirates then take care.

We thus did live most cruelly, and of no danger thought,
But we at last, as you may see, are unto justice brought
For outrages of villany, of which we guilty are,
And now this very day must dye. Let pirates then take care.

Now farewel to this wicked world, and our companions too;
From hence we quickly shall be hurl’d to clear the way for you;
For certainly if e’re you come to justice, as we are,
Deserved death will be your doom. Then pirates all take care.

_CAPTAIN KID’S FAREWEL TO THE SEAS; OR, THE FAMOUS PIRATES LAMENT._

To the Tune of _Coming down_.

My name is Captain Kid, who has sail’ [who has sail’d],
My name is Captain Kid, who has sail’d;
My name is Captain Kid.
What the laws did still forbid
Unluckily I did while I sail’d [while I sailed, etc.].

Upon the ocean wide, when I sail’d, etc.,
Upon the ocean wide, when I sail’d,
Upon the ocean wide
I robbed on every side,
With most ambitious pride, when I sail’d.

My faults I will display while I sail’d, etc.,
My faults I will display while I sail’d;
My faults I will display,
Committed day by day
[A line lost.]

Many long leagues from shore when I sail’d, etc.,
Many long leagues from shore when I sail’d,
Many long leagues from shore
I murdered William More,
And laid him in his gore, when I sail’d,

Because a word he spoke when I sail’d, etc.,
Because a word he spoke when I sail’d,
Because a word he spoke:
I with a bucket broke
His scull at one sad stroke, while I sail’d.

I struck with a good will when I sail’d, etc.,
I struck with a good will when I sail’d;
I struck with a good will,
And did a gunner kill
As being cruel still when I sail’d.

A Quida merchant then while I sail’d, etc.,
A Quida merchant then while I sail’d,
A Quida merchant then
I robbed of hundreds ten,
Assisted by my men, while I sailed.

A banker’s ship of France, while I sailed, etc.,
A banker’s ship of France, while I sailed,
A banker’s ship of France
Before us did advance:
I seized her by chance, while I sailed.

Full fourteen ships I see when I sailed, etc.,
Full fourteen ships I see when I sailed;
Full fourteen ships I see,
Merchants of high degree;
They were too hard for me when I sailed.

We steered from sound to sound while we sailed,
We steered from sound to sound while we sailed;
We steered from sound to sound,
A Moorish ship we found;
Her men we stript and bound while we sailed.

Upon the ocean seas while we sailed, etc.,
Upon the ocean seas while we sailed,
Upon the ocean seas
A warlike Portuguese
In sport did us displease, while we sailed.

At famous Malabar when we sailed, etc.,
At famous Malabar when we sailed,
At famous Malabar
We went ashore, each tar,
And robbed the natives there, when we sailed.

Then after this we chased, while we sailed,
Then after this we chased, while we sailed,
Then after this we chased
A rich Armenian, graced
With wealth, which we embraced, while we sailed.

Many Moorish ships we took while we sailed,
Many Moorish ships we took while we sailed,
Many Moorish ships we took;
We did still for plunder look;
All conscience we forsook while we sailed.

I, Captain Cullifoord, while I sailed, etc.,
I, Captain Cullifoord, while I sailed,
I, Captain Cullifoord,
Did many merchants board,
Which did much wealth afford, while we sailed.

Two hundred bars of gold, while we sail’d, etc.,
Two hundred bars of gold, while we sailed,
Two hundred bars of gold
And rix dollars manifold
We seized uncontrolled, while we sailed.

_St. John_, a ship of fame, when we sailed, etc.,
_St. John_, a ship of fame, when we sailed,
_St. John_, a ship of fame,
We plundered when she came,
With more that I could name, when we sailed.

We taken was at last, and must die, etc.,
We taken was at last, and must die;
We taken were at last,
And into prison cast:
Now, sentence being past, we must die.

Tho’ we have reigned awhile we must die, etc.,
Tho’ we have reigned awhile we must die;
Tho’ we have reigned awhile,
While fortune seemed to smile,
Now on the British Isle we must die.

Farewel the ocean main, we must die, etc.,
Farewel the ocean main, we must die;
Farewel the ocean main:
The coast of France or Spain
We ne’er shall see again; we must die.

From Newgate now in carts we must go, etc.,
[From Newgate now in carts we must goe;]
From Newgate now in carts,
With sad and heavy hearts,
To have our due deserts we must go.

Some thousands they will flock when we die,
Some thousands they will flock when we die,
Some thousands they will flock
To Execution Dock,
Where we must stand the shock and must die.

_A SATYR ON THE SEA-OFFICERS; OR, A LONG PROLOGUE TO A SHORT PLAY;_

Spoken by a woman at Oxford, dress’d like a sea-officer.

By Sir H. S.