‘I am hurt, but I am not slaine;
I’le lay mee downe and bleed a-while,
And then I’le rise and ffight againe.
‘Ffight on, my men,’ sayes Sir Andrew Bartton,
‘These English doggs they bite soe lowe;
Ffight on for Scottland and Saint Andrew
Till you heare my whistle blowe!’
But when they cold not heare his whistle blow,
Sayes Harry Hunt, ‘I’le lay my head
You may bord yonder noble shipp, my lord,
For I know Sir Andrew hee is dead.’
With that they borded this noble shipp,
Soe did they itt with might and maine;
They ffound eighteen score Scotts alive,
Besids the rest were maimed and slaine.
My lord Haward tooke a sword in his hand,
And smote of Sir Andrews head;
The Scotts stood by did weepe and mourne,
But never a word durst speake or say.
He caused his body to be taken downe,
And over the hatch-bord cast into the sea,
And about his middle thre hundred crownes:
‘Whersoever thou lands, itt will bury thee.’
With his head they sayled into England againe,
With right good will, and fforce and main,
And the day beffore Newyeeres even
Into Thames mouth they came againe.
My lord Haward wrote to King Heneryes grace,
With all the newes hee cold him bring:
‘Such a Newyeeres gifft I have brought to your Grace
As never did subject to any king.
‘Ffor merchandyes and manhood,
The like is nott to be ffound;
The sight of these wold doe you good,
Ffor you have not the like in your English ground.’
But when hee heard tell that they were come,
Full royally hee welcomed them home;
Sir Andrewes shipp was the kings Newyeeres guifft;
A braver shipp you never saw none.
Now hath our king Sir Andrews shipp,
Besett with pearles and precyous stones;
Now hath England two shipps of warr,
Two shipps of war, before but one.
‘Who holpes to this?’ sayes King Henerye,
‘That I may reward him ffor his paine;’
‘Harry Hunt, and Peeter Simon,
William Horseleay, and I the same.’
‘Harry Hunt shall have his whistle and chaine,
And all his iewells, whatsoever they bee,
And other rich giffts that I will not name,
For his good service he hath done mee.
‘Horslay, right thoust be a knight,
Lands and livings thou shalt have store;
Howard shalbe Erle of Nottingham,
And soe was never Haward before.
‘Now, Peeter Simon, thou art old;
I will maintaine thee and thy son;
Thou shalt have five hundred pound all in gold,
Ffor the good service that thou hast done.’
Then King Henerye shiffted his roome;
In came the Queene and ladyes bright;
Other arrands they had none
But to see Sir Andrew Bartton, knight.
But when they see his deadly fface,
His eyes were hollow in his head;
‘I wold give a hundred pound,’ sais King Henerye,
‘The man were alive as hee is dead!
‘Yett for the manfull part that hee hath playd,
Both heere and beyond the sea,
His men shall have halfe a crowne a day
To bring them to my brother, King Iamye.’
_JOHN DORY._
As it fell on a holy-day, and upon an holy-tide-a,
John Dory bought him an ambling nag, to Paris for to ride-a:
And, when John Dory to Paris was come, a little before the gate-a,
John Dory was fitted, the porter was witted, to let him in
thereat-a.
The first man that John Dory did meet, was good King John of
France-a;
John Dory could well of his courtesie, but fell down in a trance-a:
‘A pardon, a pardon, my liege and my king, for my merie men and for
me-a;
And all the churles in merie England, Ile bring them all bound to
thee-a.’
And Nicholl was then a Cornish man, a little beside Bohide-a.
And he mande forth a good blacke barke, with fiftie good oares on a
side-a.
‘Run up, my boy, unto the maine-top, and looke what thou canst
spie-a.’
‘Who ho! who ho! a goodly ship I do see, I trow it be John Dory-a.’
They hoist their sailes, both top and top, the meisseine and all was
tride-a;
And every man stood to his lot, whatever should betide-a.
The roring cannons then were plide, and dub-a-dub went the drumme-a;
The braying trumpets lowd they cride to courage both all and some-a.
The grapling-hooks were brought at length, the browne bill and the
sword-a;
John Dory at length, for all his strength, was clapt fast under
board-a.
_THE MARINER’S SONG._
From the ‘Comedy of Common Conditions,’ about 1570.
_Lustely, lustely, lustely let us saile forthe;
The winde trim doth serve us, it blows from the north._
All thinges we have ready and nothing we want
To furnish our ship that rideth hereby;
Victuals and weapons thei be nothing skant,
Like worthie mariners ourselves we will trie.
_Lustely, lustely, &c._
Her flagges be new trimmed, set flanting alofte,
Our ship for swift swimmyng, oh! she doth excel;
We fear no enemies, we have escaped them ofte;
Of all ships that swimmeth she beareth the bell.
_Lustely, lustely, &c._
And here is a maister excelleth in skill,
And our maister’s mate he is not to seeke;
And here is a boteswaine will do his good will,
And here is a ship, boy, we never had leak.
_Lustely, lustely, &c._
If fortune then faile not, and our next voiage prove,
We will return merely, and make good cheare,
And holde all together as friends link’d in love;
The cannes shall be filled with wine, ale, and beer.
_Lustely, lustely, &c._
_A JOYFUL NEW BALLAD, DECLARING THE HAPPIE OBTAINING OF THE GREAT
GALLEAZZO_,
Wherein Don Pietro de Valdez was the chiefe, through the mightie power
and providence of God, being a special token of his gracious and
fatherly goodness towards us, to the great encouragement of all those
that willingly fight in the defence of his gospel, and our good Queene
of England.
To the Tune of, _Mounseurs Almaigne_
O noble England, fall doune upon thy knee,
And praise thy God with thankfull hart, which still maintaineth thee.
The forraine forces, that seekes thy utter spoile:
Shall then through his especiall grace be brought to shamefull foile.
With mightie power they come unto our coast:
To over runne our countrie quite, they make their brags and boast.
In strength of men they set their onely stay,
But we upon the Lord our God will put our trust alway.
Great is their number of ships upon the sea;
And their provision wonderful, but, Lord, thou art our stay.
Their armed souldiers are many by account,
Their aiders eke in this attempt doe sundry waies surmount.
The Pope of Rome, with many blessed graines,
To sanctify their bad pretense, bestowed both cost and paines.
But little land, be not dismaide at all;
The Lord no doubt is on our side, which soone will worke their fall.
In happie houre our foes we did descry,
All under saile with gallant wind as they cam passing by.
Which suddaine tidings to Plymmouth being brought,
Full soone our Lord high Admirall for to pursue them sought.
And to his traine coragiously he said:
‘Now for the Lord and our good Queene to fight be not afraide.
Regard our cause, and play your partes like men:
The Lord no doubt will prosper us in all our actions then.’
This great Galleazzo, which was so huge and hye,
That like a bulwarke on the sea did seeme to each man’s eye,
There was it taken, unto our great reliefe;
And divers nobles, in which traine Don Pietro was the chiefe.
Strong was she stuft, with cannons great and small,
And other instruments of warre, which we obtained all.
A certaine signe of good successe we trust,
That God will overthrow the rest, as he hath done the first.
Then did our navie pursue the rest amaine
With roaring noise of cannons great, till they neare Callice came.
With manly courage they followed them so fast,
Another mighty Gallion did seem to yeeld at last,
And in distress, for savegard of their lives,
A flag of truce they did hang out, with many mournful cries:
Which when our men did perfectly espie,
Some little barkes they sent to her, to board her quietly.
But these false Spaniards, esteeming them but weake,
When they within their danger came, their malice forth did breake.
With charged cannons, they laide about them then;
For to destroy those proper barkes, and all their valiant men.
Which when our men perceived so to be,
Like lions fierce they forward went, to ’quite this injurie,
And bourding them, with strong and mightie hand,
They kild the men untill their arke did sinke in Callice sand.
The chiefest captaine of this Gallion so hie,
Don Hugo de Moncaldo he, within this fight did die,
Who was the Generall of all the Gallions great:
But through his braines with pouders force a bullet strong did beat.
And manie more by sword did loose their breath;
And manie more within the sea did swimme and tooke their death.
There might you see the salt and foming flood,
Dyed and staind like scarlet red, with store of Spanish blood.
This mightie vessell was threescore yards in length:
Most wonderfull to each man’s eie, for making and for strength,
In her was placed an hundreth cannons great;
And mightily provided eke, with bread, corne, wine and meat.
There was of oares two hundered, I weene:
Three-score foote and twelve in length, well measured to be seene,
And yet subdued, with manie others more:
And not a ship of ours lost, the Lord be thankt therefore.
Our pleasant countrie, so fruitfull and so faire,
They doe intend by deadly warre to make both poore and bare:
Our townes and cities to racke and sacke likewise:
To kill and murder man and wife, as malice doth avise;
And to deflower our virgins in our sight;
And in the cradle cruelly the tender babe to smite.
God’s holy truth they meane for to cast downe:
And to deprive our noble Queene both of her life and crowne.
Our wealth and riches, which we enjoyed long,
They doe appoint their prey and spoile, by crueltie and wrong;
To set our houses a fier on our heades;
And cursedly to cut our throates, as we lye in our beds.
Our children’s braines to dash against the ground;
And from the earth our memorie for ever to confound.
To change our joy to griefe and mourning sad:
And never more to see the dayes of pleasure we have had.
But God almightie be blessed evermore,
Who doth encourage Englishmen to beate them from our shoare.
With roaring cannons, their hastie steps to stay,
And with the force of thundering shot to make them flye away:
Who made account, before this time of day;
Against the walls of faire London their banners to display,
But their intent the Lord will bring to nought,
If faithfully we call and cry for succour as we ought.
And you, deare bretheren, which beareth armes this day.
For safegarde of your native soile, marke well what I shall say.
Regard your dueties, thinke on your countrie’s good:
And feare not, in defense thereof, to spend your dearest bloud.
Our gracious Queene doth greete you every one:
And saith she will among you be in bitter storme.
Desiring you true English hearts to beare;
To God, and her, and to the land wherein you nursed were.
Lord God almightie, which hath the harts in hand:
Of everie person to dispose, defend this English land.
Bless thou our Soveraigne with long and happie life:
Indue her Councel with thy grace, and end this mortall strife.
Give to the rest of Commons more and lesse,
Loving harts, obedient minds, and perfect faithfulnesse.
That they and we, and all, with one accord
On Sion hill may sing the praise of our most mightie Lord.
T(HOMAS) D(ELONEY).
_AN EXCELLENT SONG ON THE WINNING OF CALES BY THE ENGLISH._
(Tune of, _Dub a Dub; or, the Seaman’s Tantara rara_.)
Long the proud Spaniards had vanted to conquer us,
Threatening our country with fire and sword;
Often preparing their navy most sumptuous,
With all the provision that Spain could afford.
_Dub-a-dub, dub-a-dub, thus strike their drums;
Tan-ta-ra, ta-ra-ra, the Englishmen comes!_
To the seas presently went our Lord Admirall,
With knights couragyous, and captaines full good;
The Earl of Essex, a prosperous Generall,
With him prepared to passe the salt floode.
_Dub-a-dub, etc._
At Plymouth speedily took they shipp valiantly,
Braver shippes never were seen under sayle;
With their fayre colours spread, and streamers o’re their head
Now, bragging Spanyards, take heed of your tayle.
_Dub-a-dub, etc._
Unto Cales, cunningly, came we most speedylye,
Where the King’s navy did secretelye ride,
Being upon their backe, piercing their butts of Sacke,
Ere that the Spanyards our coming descry’d.
_Tan-ta-ra, ta-ra-ra, the Englishmen comes;
Bounce-a-bounce, bounce-a-bounce, off went the guns._
Great was the crying, running and ryding,
Which at that season was made in that place;
The Beacons were fyred, as need then required,
To hyde their great treasure they had little space.
_‘Alas!’ they cryed, ‘Englishmen comes,’ etc._
There you might see the shipps, how they were fired fast,
And how the men drowned them selves in the sea:
There you may hear them cry, wail and weep piteously,
When as they saw no shift to escape thence away.
_Dub-a-dub, etc._
The great _Saint Philip_, the pryde of the Spanyards,
Was burnt to the bottom, and sunke in the sea;
But the _Saint Andrew_, and eke the _Saint Matthew_
We took in fight manfully, and brought them away.
_Dub-a-dub, etc._
The Earl of Essex, most valyant and hardy,
With horse-men and foot-men march’d towards the towne
The enemies which saw them, full greatly affrighted,
Did fly for their safe-guard, and durst not come downe.
_Dub-a-dub, etc._
‘Now,’ quoth the noble Earl, ‘courage, my soldiers all!
Fight and be valiant, the spoyl you shall have;
And [be] well rewarded all, from the great to the small;
But looke that the women and children you save!’
_Dub-a-dub, etc._
The Spaniards, at that sight, saw ’twas in vain to fight,
Hung up their flags of truce, yielding the town;
We march’d in presently, decking the walls on high
With our English colours, which purchas’d renown.
_Dub-a-dub, etc._
Ent’ring the houses then, and of the richest men,
For gold and treasure we searched each day;
In some places we did find pye baking in the oven,
Meat at the fire roasting, and folkes fled away.
_Dub-a-dub, etc._
Full of rich merchandize every shop we did see,
Damasks, and sattins, and velvets full fair;
Which soldiers measure out by the length of their swords,
Of all commodities each one hath a share.
_Dub-a-dub, etc._
Thus Cales was taken, and our brave generall
March’d to the market-place, where he did stand;
There many prisoners of good account were took;
Many craved mercy, and mercy they found.
_Dub-a-dub, etc._
When as our brave generall saw they delayed time,
And would not ransom their town, as they said,
With their faire wainscots, their presses and bedsteads,
Their joint-stooles and tables, a fyre we made;
_And when the town burned all in a flame,
With tan-ta-ra, tan-ta-ra rara, from thence we came_.
(By THOMAS DELONEY.)
_THE SAILOR’S ONELY DELIGHT:_
Shewing the brave fight between _George-Aloe_, the _Sweep-stakes_ and
certain Frenchmen at Sea.
The _George-Aloe_ and the _Sweep-stake_ too,
_With hey, with hoe, for and a nony no_;
O they were merchant-men and bound for Safee,
_And alongst the coast of Barbary_.
The _George-Aloe_ to anchor came,
But the jolly _Sweepstake_ kept on her way.
They had not sayled leagues two or three,
But they met with a Frenchman of war upon the sea.
‘All haile, all haile, you lusty gallants,
Of whence is your fair ship, or whither are you bound?’
‘We are Englishmen and bound for Safee,
Of whence is your fair ship, or whither are you bound?’
‘Amaine, amaine, you gallant Englishman,’
‘Come, you French swads, and strike down your sayle.’
They laid us aboord on the star-boord side,
And they overthrew us into the sea so wide.
When tidings to the _George-Aloe_ came,
That the jolly _Sweep-stake_ by a Frenchman was tane.
‘To top! to top, thou little ship-boy!
And see if this Frenchman of war thou canst descry.’
‘A sayle, a sayle, under our lee,
Yea, and another under her obey.’
‘Weigh anchor! weigh anchor, O jolly boat-swain,
We wil take this Frenchman if we can.’
We had not sayled leagues two or three,
But we met the Frenchman of war upon the sea,
‘All haile, all haile, you lusty gallants,
Of whence is your faire ship and whither are you bound?’
‘O, wee are merchant-men and bound for Safee.’
‘I, and wee are French-men, and war upon the sea.
‘Amaine, amaine, you English dogges!’
‘Come aboard, you French rogue, and strike down your sailes.’
The first good shot the _George-Aloe_ (made),
He made the French-men’s hearts sore afraid.
The second shot the _George-Aloe_ did afford,
He struck their mainmast over the board.
‘Have mercy, have mercy, you brave Englishmen,’
‘O what have you done with our brethren,
_As they sayled in Barbarie_?’
‘Wee laid them aboard on the starboard side,
And we threw them into the sea so wide.’
‘Such mercy as you have shewed unto them,
Then the like mercy shall you have againe.
Wee laid them aboard on the larboard side,
And we threw them into the sea so wide.
Lord! how it grieves our hearts full sore,
To see the drowned French-men swim along the shore.
Now, gallant sea-men all, adieu,
_With hey, with hoe, for and a nony no_;
This is the latest newes that I can write to you,
_To England’s coast from Barbarie_.
_THE SEAMAN’S SONG OF CAPTAIN WARD, THE FAMOUS PYRATE OF THE WORLD,
AND AN ENGLISH-MAN BORN._
Tune, _The King’s going to Bulloign_.
Gallants, you must understand,
Captain Ward of England,
A pyrate and a rover on the sea,
Of late a simple fisherman
In the merrry town of Feversham,
Grows famous in the world now every day.
From the Bay of Plimouth
Sayled he towards the south,
With many more of courage and of might;
Christian princes have but few
Such seamen, if that he were true,
And would but for his King and country fight.
Lusty Ward adventurously
In the Straights of Barbary
Did make the Turkish gallyes for to shake.
Bouncing cannons fiery hot
Spared not the Turks one jot,
But of their lives great slaughter he did make.
The islanders of Malta,
With argosies upon the sea,
Most proudly braved Ward unto his face
But soon their pride was overthrown,
And their treasures made his own,
And all their men brought to a wofull case.
The wealthy ships of Venice
Afforded him great riches;
Both gold and silver won he by his sword.
Stately Spain and Portugal
Against him dare not bear up sail,
But gave him all the title of a lord.
Golden-seated Candy,
Famous France and Italy,
With all the countries of the Eastern parts,
If once their ships his pride with-stood,
They surely all were cloath’d in blood,
Such cruelty was plac’d within their hearts.
The riches he hath gain’d,
And by bloodshed obtained,
Well may suffice for to maintain a king;
His fellows all were valiant wights,
Fit to be made prince’s knights,
But that their lives do base dishonors bring.
This wicked-gotten treasure
Doth him but little pleasure;
The land consumes what they have got by sea,
In drunkenness and letchery,
Filthy sins of sodomy,
Their evil-gotten goods do wast[e] away.
Such as live by thieving
Have seldome-times good ending,
As by the deeds of Captain Ward is shown:
Being drunk amongst his drabs,
His nearest friend he sometimes stabs;
Such wickednesse within his heart is grown.
When stormy tempest riseth,
The Causer he despiseth,
Still denies to pray unto the Lord.
He feareth neither God nor devil,
His deeds are bad, his thoughts are evil,
His onley trust is still upon his sword.
Men of his own country
He still abuseth vilely;
Some back to back are cast into the waves;
Some are hewn in pieces small,
Some are shot against a wall;
A slender number of their lives he saves.
Of truth it is reported
That he is strongly guarded
By Turks that are not of a good belief;
Wit and reasons tell them
He trusteth not his country-men,
He shews the right condition of a thief.
At Tunis in Barbary
Now he buildeth stately
A gallant palace and a royal place,
Decked with delights most trim,
Fitter for a prince than him,
The which at last will prove to his disgrace.
To make the world to wonder,
This captain is commander
Of four-and-twenty ships of sayl,
To bring in treasure from the sea
Into the markets every day:
The which the Turks do buy up without fail.
His name and state so mounteth,
These countrey-men accounteth
Him equal to the nobles of that land;
But these his honours we shall find
Shortly blown up with the wind,
Or prove like letters written in the sand.
_THE SONG OF DANSEKAR THE DUTCHMAN._
(_Second Part of the Sea-man’s Song of Ward and Dansekar._)
Sing we sea-men, now and than,
Of Dansekar the Dutchman,
Whose gallant mind hath won him great renown;
To live on land he counts it base,
But seeks to purchase greater grace
By roving on the ocean up and down.
His heart is so aspiring,
That now his chief desiring
Is for to win himself a worthy name;
The land hath far too little ground,
The sea is of a larger bound,
And of a greater dignity and fame.
Now many a worthy gallant,
Of courage now most valiant,
With him hath put their fortunes to the sea;
All the world about have heard
Of Dansekar and Captain Ward,
And of their proud adventures every day.
There is not any kingdom,
In Turkey or in Christendom,
But by these pyrates have received loss;
Merchant-men of every land
Do daily in great danger stand,
And fear do much the ocean main to cross.
They make children fatherless,
Woful widows in distresse;
In shedding blood they [take] too much delight;
Fathers they bereave of sons,
Regarding neither cries nor moans,
So much they joy to see a bloody fight.
They count it gallant bearing
To hear the cannons roaring,
And musket shot to rattle in the sky;
Their glories would be at the highest
To fight against the foes of Christ,
And such as do our Christian faith deny.
But their cursed villanies,
And their bloody pyracies,
Are chiefly bent against our Christian friends;
Some Christians so delight in evils
That they become the sons of divels,
And for the same have many shameful ends.
England suffers danger
As well as any stranger;
Nations are alike unto this company;
Many English merchant-men,
And of London now and then,
Have tasted of their vile extremity.
London’s _Elizabeth_
Of late these rovers taken hath,
A ship well laden with rich merchandize;
The nimble _Pearl_ and _Charity_,
All ships of gallant bravery,
Are by these pyrates made a lawful prize.
The _Trojan_ of London,
With other ships many a one,
Hath stooped sail, and yielded out of hand,
(These pyrates they have shed their bloods,
And the Turks have bought their goods),
Being all too weak their power to withstand.
Of Hull the _Bonaventer_,
Which was a great frequenter
And passer of the Straits to Barbary,
Both ship and men [late] taken were
By Pyrates Ward and Dansekar,
And brought by them into captivity.
English Ward and Dansekar
Begin greatly now to jar
About [the true] dividing [of] their goods;
Both ships and soldiers gather head,
Dansekar from Ward is fled:
So full of pride and malice are their bloods.
Ward doth only promise
To keep about rich Tunis,
And be commander of those Turkish seas;
But valiant Dutch-land Dansekar
Doth hover neer unto Argier,
And there his threat’ning colours now displays.
These pyrates thus divided,
By God is sure provided
In secret sort to work each other’s woe;
Such wicked courses cannot stand,
The Divel thus puts in his hand,
And God will give them soon an overthrow.
_THE FAMOUS SEA-FIGHT BETWEEN CAPTAIN WARD AND THE RAINBOW._
To the Tune of _Captain Ward_, etc.
Strike up, you lusty gallants, with musick and sound of drum:
For we have descry’d a rover upon the sea is come;
His name is Captain Ward, right well it doth appear
There has not been such a rover found out this thousand year;
For he hath sent unto our King, the sixth of January,
Desiring that he might come in, with all his company;
‘And if your King will let me come, till I my tale have told,
I will bestow for my ransome full thirty tun of gold.’
‘O nay! O nay!’ then said our King, ‘O nay, this may not be,
To yield to such a rover my self will not agree;
He hath deceiv’d the French-man, likewise the King of Spain,
And how can he be true to me, that hath been false to twain?’
With that our King provided a ship of worthy fame;
_Rainbow_ she is called, if you would know her name.
Now the gallant _Rainbow_ she rowes upon the sea,
Five hundred gallant seamen to bear her company.
The Dutch-man and the Spaniard she made them for to flye,
Also the bonny French-man, as she met him on the sea.
When as this gallant _Rainbow_, did come where Ward did lye,
Where is the captain of this ship?’ this gallant _Rainbow_ did cry.
‘O that am I,’ says Captain Ward, ‘there’s no man bids me lye;
And if thou art the King’s fair ship thou art welcome unto me.’
‘I’le tell thee what,’ says _Rainbow_, ‘our King is in great grief
That thou should’st lye upon the sea and play the arrant thief,