took place during the war. _Admiral Mathews’s Engagement against the
Combined Fleets of France and Spain_ narrates the indecisive battle
of February 11, 1744, which led to the trials of Mathews himself,
Vice-Admiral Lestock, and several captains. The author was evidently
a partisan of Mathews (p. 186). _The Lucky Sailor, or the Sailor’s
Invitation to go with Admiral Anson_, celebrates the victory of Anson
and Warren over the French fleet under La Jonquière on May 3, 1747 (p.
195). Hawke’s victory over M. de l’Etenduère on October 14, 1747, is
the subject of _Tit for Tat, A Sea Kick for a Land Cuff_ (p. 197). A
song on the taking of Port Louis in Hispaniola by Rear-Admiral Charles
Knowles, in March 1748, closes the series (p. 199). Several ballads
relate to minor actions. Captain Holmes in the Sapphire on January
15, 1743, destroyed five Spanish privateers in Vigo Harbour. The
ballad, written by a sailor who lost his arm in the action, dates it
January 1744 (p. 184). The true date is given in Samuel Boyse’s _An
Historical Review of the Transactions of Europe from the beginning of
the war with Spain in 1739_, published in 1747, vol. i. p. 390; and
in Beatson’s _Naval and Military Memoirs_, i. 173. During 1744 two
small merchantmen fought extraordinarily gallant and successful actions
against French privateers, which were celebrated in contemporary
ballads (pp. 187, 189).
‘In January Captain Cobb in the Bacchus, bound from Oporto to Lynn,
being attacked by a Spanish privateer, of ten guns and 120 men,
maintained a fight of four hours, with only fourteen men and two
boys; and though the privateer boarded him, he cleared his ship
by killing several of the enemy. Soon after, one of his shot took
place so luckily, that the privateer suddenly foundered, and all he
could do was to save about thirty of the Spaniards, who the next day
treacherously rose upon him. However, after an obstinate fight, in
which eleven were killed, he subdued the rest and brought them into
Dartmouth, where this brave man died of the wounds he received in
this last action.
‘In June, one Richard Hornby, master of a small vessel bound from
Yarmouth to Rotterdam, mounting six guns, and having only five men
and three boys, was attacked on the coast of Holland by the Marquis
de Brancos, a French privateer of eighteen guns and seventy-five men,
against whom he defended himself bravely for four hours, repulsing
the enemy, who attempted to board him twice. At length a shot of his
entering the privateer’s powder-room, she blew up, and all her crew
perished. This action being represented by the Lords of the Admiralty
to his Majesty, he was pleased to reward Captain Hornby with a gold
chain and medal of 200_l._ value.’
(Boyse, ii. 114.)
To this period also belong several ballads commemorating disasters at
sea, or escapes from shipwreck. _Admiral Cavendish’s distress on board
the Canterbury_ (p. 168) must have been written in the year 1728. It
is interesting because its metre is probably an imitation of that of
_You Gentlemen of England_, while the refrain, ‘In the Bay of Biscay
O,’ evidently inspired the well-known song of that name written by
Andrew Cherry (Stone, _Sea Songs_, p. 32). The latter was first sung by
Incledon in an operatic sketch entitled _Spanish Dollars_, which was
produced in April 1805.
Another ballad dealing with a similar subject is _The Princess Royal’s
Escape from the Goodwin Sands_, written by a sailor on board the ship,
and describing a storm which took place in February 1744 (p. 190).
Two others deal with the loss of Sir John Balchen and the Victory, a
first-rate carrying 108 guns, wrecked on the Caskets on October 4,
1744. About a thousand men perished with Balchen (pp. 192-94).
The War of the Austrian Succession closed with the Treaty of
Aix-la-Chapelle in October 1748.
The Seven Years’ War commenced in America and India, and spread to
Europe. War between France and England was not declared till May 18,
1756, though on June 8, 1755, Boscawen’s fleet captured two French men
of war, the Alcide and the Lys, off Newfoundland. As early as February
1755 there was ‘a hot press’ for seamen, and in July Hawke was sent
to sea with eighteen ships to intercept the French fleet under Du
Guay, and to make reprisals upon French commerce. The story of _The
Lighterman’s Prentice_ relates to this cruise (p. 201). Nearly 300
French merchantmen and about 8,000 seamen were captured before the end
of 1755 (Entick, _History of the Late War_ i. 137, 187). _Britain’s
Resolution to fight the French_ also refers to these captures, but
the exultation they caused lasted but a short time (p. 203). Byng’s
action with La Galissonière on May 20 and the capture of Port Mahon
which followed on June 29, dashed all these hopes, and popular feeling
demanded that the admiral’s misconduct should be punished with death.
Every scribbler wrote poems and epigrams against him, and political
hostility to the Government swelled the cry.
‘To the block with Newcastle and yard-arm with Byng,’ is the chorus of
one ballad appropriately entitled _Block and Yard-arm_. A collection
of these was published at the time: _Bungiana; or an Assemblage of
What-d’ye-call-em’s in prose and verse that have occasionally appeared
relative to the conduct of a certain naval commander, 1756_. The French
commander’s conduct was not thought much better than Byng’s, and one
of the squibs in this collection satirises both. It is entitled _The
Pacific Engagement, a poetical dialogue between two courteous admirals_.
‘(_Byng._)
At last we are met--but I hope with no other
Intent or design but to spare one another.
Though we seem by our flags to be desperate foes,
Let us part, if you please, without banging or blows.
‘(_Galissonière._)
But since fighting and wars are the arts which we trade in,
We must have a little and short cannonading;
Our guns must be fired at a distance, but still
With no wicked intention to wound or to kill....’
Byng’s despatch was frequently parodied in verse, and one of these
parodies, _The Letter of a certain Admiral_, is given on p. 207,
together with _A Rueful Story_ (p. 209). Blakeney became the hero of
the hour, and a naval officer who had served in the defence of Fort St.
Philip was glorified with him in _A New Song_ (p. 206). Another ballad
handed down to tradition, of which the tune as well as the words has
been preserved, accused Byng of selling Port Mahon, and contrasted his
treachery with the courage of West (p. 210).
Next year another fiasco excited popular feeling to fury, namely the
abortive ‘secret expedition’ to Rochefort in September 1757. The navy
did its part in capturing the isle of Aix; the ships could not get
near enough to batter Rochefort, and the soldiers were never landed.
Sir John Mordaunt, the commander of the troops, was acquitted by a
court-martial. The _New Song written on the Isle of Aix_ (p. 211) is
apparently intended to represent the feelings of Hawke, who was vexed
and indignant at the decision of the generals not to attempt a landing
(Burrows, _Life of Hawke_, ed. 1896, p. 138).
The year 1758 was more fortunate, but neither Pocock’s engagements
in the East Indies nor the capture of Louisbourg are the subject of
ballads which have reached us. Keppel’s expedition against the French
colonies in Africa attracted more attention. One ballad, _Bold Sawyer_,
relates the capture of Goree, which took place December 28, 1758
(Entick, iii. 271-8). While it gives the names of the ships engaged in
the expedition correctly, it calls the captain of the Nassau Sawyer,
though his name was James Sayer. Another ballad relates the fate of the
Lichfield, Captain Barton, which ran ashore on the coast of Morocco on
November 29, 1758 (p. 214). The crew were made slaves, and were not
released till April 1760, when they were ransomed for 170,000 dollars
by a special ambassador sent for the purpose (Duncan, _The Mariner’s
Chronicle_, iii. 118-30).
The year 1759 was the great year of the war. On August 18 Boscawen
defeated De la Clue, taking three ships of the line and destroying two.
On November 20 Hawke beat Conflans in Quiberon Bay. Hawke’s victory
is the theme of a ballad apparently written by someone on board the
flagship (p. 217). _Neptune’s Resignation_, a pretentious mythological
poem ‘written by Mr. Wagnall’ is interesting as a curiosity (p. 218).
Twenty-three years later it was adapted to fit Rodney’s victory. Two
other pieces of verse--one composed by Paul Whitehead and sung by Mr.
Beard at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, the other by Robert English,
chaplain of the Royal George--are reprinted in Hawke’s _Life_ (pp.
253-56). ‘Though the rude billows raged,’ sang the chaplain, ‘so close
we engaged
That rarely a shot was misplaced;
The troops on the land chilled with horror they stand
To see the white flag so disgraced.
‘No longer they’ll boast of descents on our coast,
The bright Queen of the main to reduce;
The fair English rose more lovely it blows,
While droops the faint Flower de Luce.
‘Each generous heart played so gallant a part
That glory has crowned our endeavours
And what is still more, the lasses on shore
Will esteem us deserving their favours.’
Boscawen and Hawke had effectively ended the French threats of
invasion, for which purpose a number of flat-bottomed boats had been
built (Entick, iii. 403; v. 50). It is to this project that Garrick
contemptuously refers in _Hearts of Oak_, a song in his pantomime
_Harlequin’s Invasion_, which was produced on December 31, 1759. The
text of the song is so altered in the current versions that it seemed
desirable to print it in its original form (p. 220). The only French
landing effected took place in Ireland. In October 1759 M. Thurot, with
six frigates and 1,300 troops, eluding the squadron under Commodore
Boys, which was blockading that port, set out on his adventurous
cruise. The weather frustrated an intended descent near Londonderry,
but on February 21 he landed some troops at Carrickfergus, but put to
sea again after occupying the place for six days. Next day, on February
28, Captain John Elliot, with the Aeolus, Pallas, and Brilliant
frigates, engaged the three ships that were left of Thurot’s squadron,
and captured them all (Clowes iii. 230; Entick iv. 319-333). Thurot
fell in the fight, and the ballad called _Thurot’s Dream_ records his
fate (p. 220). This is one of the rare cases in which oral tradition
has preserved a better version of the original piece than any of the
printed broadsides.
Another minor action of much interest, which took place a year
earlier, is the subject of the ballad entitled _Gilchrist and Hotham’s
Bravery_ (p. 216). On March 20, 1759, the Southampton, 32, Captain
James Gilchrist, and the Melampe, 24, Captain William Hotham, engaged
two French frigates and captured one of them, the Danae, a 40-gun
ship (Clowes, iii. 301; Entick, iv. 266). The capture of three French
privateers in the West Indies by Captain O’Brien and Captain Taylor in
August 1760 furnished another theme for indifferent verse (p. 222, cf.
Entick, v. 55).
After 1759 there were no fleet actions in European waters. Hawke,
Boscawen, and Rodney blockaded the western ports of France through
1760. In June 1761 the island of Belleisle surrendered to a naval and
military force commanded by General Hodgson and Commodore Keppel. This
conquest is the subject of _A New Song on the Taking of Belleisle_,
but the song touches only the service of the soldiers. Pitt meant to
tender the island as an equivalent for Minorca in the negotiations for
peace which began about this time. For the rest of the war the interest
centres in the West Indies. Guadeloupe had fallen in May 1759; Dominica
fell in June 1761; Martinique was taken in February 1762, and Grenada,
St. Lucia, and St. Vincent with Martinique.
‘As soon as this news to the French King was brought
He immediately put on his mourning coat,
Saying “Where shall I go or where shall I run?
They’ve ruined my nation, alas, I’m undone.”’
The _New Song on the Taking of Martinico_ thus pictures its effect:
‘And now for Jack Spaniards we’ll show them a dance,
And humble their pride as well as proud France.’
War had been declared against Spain on January 4, 1762, and the
squadron which had helped to reduce Martinique now joined an expedition
sent from England under Sir George Pocock and the Earl of Albemarle,
and laid siege to Havana. The city fell on August 13, 1762, and a
ballad on its capture is printed on p. 223. It is remarkable for the
badness of its metre and the correctness of its historical details
(see Entick, v. 363-385; Clowes iii. 245). With this capture the war
ended. The preliminaries of peace were signed on November 3, 1762, the
definitive treaty on February 10, 1763.
Peace was welcome news to the sailors. A ballad called _The Sailors’
Dialogue_, evidently written about this date, expresses their views.
‘When all the ship is paid, we’ll lead a merry life,’ says Jack, and
rejoices with Tom over the prospect of a full pocket and plenty of
drink (p. 227). It gave them additional satisfaction to think that
their officers would not be equally pleased. What Jack thought good
news was bad news to admiral, captain, and lieutenant, as the ballad
called _Distressed Men of War_ sets forth at length (p. 228). A fact
which made it worse was that a very limited number of subordinate
officers received half-pay, and that the rates were extremely low
(Clowes, ii. 233; iii. 19, 340).
It is evident from a number of ballads, some belonging to the middle,
others to the later part of this century, that there was considerable
discontent in the navy. The feelings which found expression in _The Sea
Martyrs_, in William III.’s time, were equally strong when George III.
began to reign, and were to manifest themselves later in the mutinies
of 1797. One perennial complaint was the badness of the provisions and
the cheats of the purser. Musty meat, mouldy biscuit, hard, stinking
Suffolk cheese, petty-warrant beer, burgoo ‘fit for nothing but to make
a sailor spew,’ were what he provided, ‘though the nation allows men
what’s fitting to eat.’ So says _The Saylor’s Complaint; or the true
Character of the Purser of a Ship_ (p. 233), and every casual reference
to a purser in any ballad is always abusive.
A still greater grievance was the difficulty a man had in getting his
pay:
‘My life I have ventured for gold
My king and my country to serve,
Now the wars are all over,
Brave sailors may perish and starve,’
is the sum of a second _Sailor’s Complaint_ (p. 230). Often the sailor
received a ticket for his pay, which he was obliged to sell to an
usurer at a ruinous reduction--a practice which had existed since the
time of Charles II., as Pepys witnesses, but which seems to have been
checked towards the middle of the eighteenth century, according to _The
Ticket-Buyer’s Lamentation_ (p. 231).
A third grievance was the severity of the discipline. A pamphlet
quoted by Entick (v. 59) explains why it is that neither by bounty
nor compulsion men enough for the fleet can be found. ‘The reason is
known to every common seaman, who, whilst Gazettes are filled with
encomiums of their bravery and contempt of danger, and our senators are
devising the wisest means for their provision and support, yet languish
under the greatest hardships and the most abject slavery, puzzled and
perplexed with unnecessary trifles, hard wrought, and ill-used by
almost every petty officer of but a month’s standing, who, ignorant
of duty, whether performed right or wrong, flourishes his rattan over
the head of the ablest seaman, and acts the tyrant over them without
control.’
Even ‘snotty boys of midshipmen,’ some hardly ten years old, declares
one ballad, ‘strike many a brave fellow.’ In another a sailor declines
to volunteer, and gives a captain his reason:
Your damned rogues of officers use men so cruel,
That a man of war is worse than hell and the devil.
(pp. 235, 239).
Ill usage made volunteers scarce and increased the discontent of
pressed men. Complaints against impressment, and references to the
abuses to which it gave rise, become increasingly frequent during the
latter half of the eighteenth century. The pressgang makes its first
appearance in fiction in 1748 with Smollet’s account of the seizure
of Roderick Random on Tower Hill, and his sufferings in the tender.
The earliest caricature representing the operations of a press-gang
is _English Liberty Displayed_, which belongs to the year 1770, when
Wilkes and the London magistrates were opposing the execution of press
warrants in the City (_Catalogue of Satirical Prints in the British
Museum_, iv. 641). Next came Gillray’s _Liberty of the Subject_,
published October 15, 1779. Our ballads supplement this evidence by
stories such as those related in _The Lighterman’s Prentice_ and in the
narrative of the eighteen Greenland men (pp. 201, 226, 234-36, 249).
Another ballad called a _Dialogue between Will and Jack_, too long to
insert, describes the general terror which prevailed about 1778 or
1779. The people seem all run mad, ‘for fear of the press they won’t
lie in their beds’; farmers and millers send boys and girls and old
men to the markets for them; carriers and carters, ‘like goats in the
mountains, they lie in the fields’; and so with all other trades. The
French are at sea to invade us, and now our bold sailors must fight for
all. The King wants men and will find them out.
The King found it difficult to get men, not merely because his service
was unpopular, but also because there was a more profitable alternative.
One characteristic of the wars of the middle of the eighteenth century
was the great development of privateering. ‘The privateers,’ writes
Sir J. K. Laughton, ‘were, in their day, a most important item in the
naval strength of the country, with this additional and especial merit,
that they were most numerous and strongest when the royal navy was
weakest or most severely taxed.... In looking for valuable services
of privateers we find them not in the periods of our national glory,
not during the wars of the French Revolution, when Howe and Hood and
Nelson crushed the French navy; not during the later years of the Seven
Years’ War, when Hawke and Boscawen and Saunders grandly maintained
England’s supremacy; but during the war of American Independence or
the war of the Austrian Succession, when the fortunes of the navy were
at a low ebb.... In such times of disaster and disgrace the rough and
ready work of the privateers appeared more brilliant, and had a very
real national importance’ (_Studies in Naval History_, p. 201). Of two
famous privateer captains, Fortunatus Wright and George Walker, the
same author gives a full account, and the exploits of many others are
recorded in _The Liverpool Privateers_, published by Mr. Gomer Williams
in 1897. Their captures and their battles were sometimes the subject of
verse, and therefore a few examples of ballads relating to them have
been inserted. In July 1745, Captain Talbot in the Prince Frederick,
with Captain Morecock in the Duke, captured two Spanish ships with
cargoes worth over 3,000,000 dollars. The share of each seaman amounted
to £850 (Laughton, p. 237; Beatson, _Naval and Military Memoirs_, i.
294; Boyse, _An Historical Review of the Transactions of Europe_, ii.
171). This capture is celebrated in _England’s Glory, or the French
King Stripped_ (p. 194). At the beginning of the Seven Years’ War the
Terrible privateer, commanded by Captain Death, was taken by the French
privateer Vengeance, of St. Malo, on December 27, 1756. The Terrible
had twenty-six guns, the Vengeance thirty-four. The crew of the
Vengeance numbered 350, while the Terrible, weakened by sending away
some men in a prize, could muster only 116. Out of them the captain
and fifty men were killed outright, and over forty wounded before the
ship was taken (Entick, _History of the Late War_, 1765, ii. 110). So
desperate a fight, at a moment when the popular indignation against
Byng for not fighting it out with La Galissonière was at its height,
naturally roused enthusiasm, and Captain Death and the Terrible were
celebrated in the ballad and the poem printed on pp. 204-5.
A common form of song is one which takes the form of an invitation to
enter on board a privateer under some popular captain. Of this there
are many specimens in existence, and two are here reprinted (pp. 225,
226). The Lord Anson and the Hawke were two Liverpool privateers
which made many captures in 1756 and 1757 (Williams, pp. 87-95). The
Blandford was a Bristol ship, though Captain Stonehouse seems to have
been a Liverpool man (_ib._ p. 186). In these and similar invitations
the prospect of plunder naturally holds the first place. A Newcastle
song says:
If we should meet with a galloon,
Our own we’ll make her very soon,
The drums shall beat and music play,
To the Antigallican haste away.
To Charlotte’s Head then let’s repair,
We’ll be received with welcome there;
We’ll enter then without delay,
To the Antigallican haste away.
(_Rhymes of Northern Bards_, by John Bell, 1812, p. 320). Another song,
called _The Sailor’s Courtship to the Lady’s Waiting-Maid_, treats the
argument sentimentally:
My love she does wait on a lady so fair,
And I do belong to a stout privateer;
Rich prizes I’ve taken since the wars did begin,
From the lofty monsieurs and brought them all in.
And now of [these] riches my love shall have share,
For she shall be drest in rich silks most rare.
With ribbons and rings my jewel I’ll deck,
And a fine chain of gold to hang round her neck.
And before that my money begins to grow scant,
I’ll away to the sea, for my love shall ne’er want,
And boldly we’ll make the loud cannons to roar,
And bring home rich prizes as heretofore.
You pretty young maids who have sweethearts at sea,
Pray take this advice and be ruled by me,
Slight not a bold sailor while he’s ploughing the main,
Most richly he’ll clothe you when he comes home again.
(_Madden Collection_, Cambridge). The prospect of manning a privateer
depended a good deal on the reputation of its commander, and
consequently his character was often set forth, as in the ballad called
after Captain Barber of the ship Resolution of Liverpool:
Give noble Captain Barber
A good broadsword in hand;
The French to fight [is] his heart’s delight
When Barber gives command.
He’s kind and tender-hearted
And makes his foes to fly,
He governs men with justice
And great generosity.
(_Madden Collection_). Or again in _A New Song_:
Come with me you jolly tars,
We’re talking of the Spanish war,
Come my boys and tack about,
We’ll put the Spaniards to the rout.
_Chorus._
I beg you’ll fill your pots all round,
Success to the fleet that’s outward bound;
Likewise unto all true blues
That sails along with Jemmy Askew,
For he’s the man that’s bold and true,
He’ll fight for his King and country too.
Come haste away to the rendezvous,
There’s plenty of good peck and booze;
Askew is a seaman’s friend,
My boys, you’ll find him in the end.
_Chorus as before._
When the American war began, the British public expected a series of
easy victories--at all events wherever the navy was engaged. The ballad
called _The Brags of Washington_ is an instance of this (p. 244).
Consequently the repulse of the fleet under Sir Peter Parker, which
attacked Charleston on June 28, 1776, was a disagreeable surprise.
It is the theme of an English ballad, _On the late Engagement in
Charleston River_, and of an American song parodying Parker’s despatch
(pp. 245-47; cf. Clowes, iii. 372). In February 1778 France concluded
a defensive treaty with the United States, and in April hostilities
between France and England began. _The Cruisers_ celebrates the
beginning of this stage of the war; _The Arethusa_ its first action,
namely, the fight between that ship and the Belle Poule on June 17,
1778 (pp. 247-248). The song, according to Sir J. K. Laughton, ‘sets
truth and seamanship alike at defiance,’ for the Arethusa fought well
but was beaten, and would certainly have been taken or sunk if the
approach of the English seventy-fours had not scared the Belle Poule
away (_Sea Fights and Adventures_, p. 8). It is to be observed that
the crew of the Belle Poule numbered 230 not 500 men, that she was not
driven ashore, and that she was ultimately taken by the Nonsuch, 64
guns, in 1780 (Clowes, iv. 13, 99, 114). To the same date or to 1777
belongs a song _On the brave Admiral Lockhart_, printed in Logan’s
_Pedlar’s Pack_ (p. 77). Lockhart took the command of the Shrewsbury
in 1777. The verses are to be sung to the tune of _Hearts of Oak_.
Ye sons of old Ocean who’re strangers to fear
On board of the _Shrewsbury_ quickly repair;
Brave Lockhart commands her, rejoice every tar,
For Lockhart commanded the _Tartar_ last war.