It was brought at her command;
Strait she shot sweet William Taylor,
With the same soon out of hand.
When the captain saw the wonder
Which the maiden fair had done,
He instantly made her lieutenant
Of the gallant _Thunder Bomb_.
_BILLY TAYLOR._
A Burlesque Ballad.
Sung by Mr. Emery, at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden.
Billy Taylor was a gay young fellow,
Full of mirth, and full of glee;
And his heart he did diskiver
To a lady fair and free.
_Fol lol etc._
Four-and-twenty stout young fellows,
Clad they were in blue array,
Came and press’d young Billy Taylor,
And forthwith sent him to sea.
_Fol lol, etc._
Soon his true love follow’d arter,
Under the name of Richard Carr;
And her lily white hands she daub’d all over
With the nasty pitch and tar.
_Fol lol, etc._
When they came to the first engagement,
Bold she fit amongst the rest,
Until a cannon-ball cut her jacket open,
And diskivered her lily white breast.
_Fol lol, etc._
When the captain com’d for to hear on’t,
Says he ‘Vat vind has blown you here?’
Says she ‘I come to seek for my true love,
Whom you press’d, and I love so dear.’
_Fol lol, etc._
‘If you come to seek for your true love,
Tell unto me his name, I pray?’
‘His name, kind sir, is Billy Taylor,
Whom you press’d, and sent to sea.’
_Fol lol, etc._
‘If his name is Billy Taylor,
He’s both cruel and severe;
For rise up early in the morning,
And you’ll see him with a lady fair.’
_Fol lol, etc._
With that she ros’d up in the morning,
Early as by break of day;
And she met her Billy Taylor
Walking with a lady gay.
_Fol lol, etc._
Forthwith she call’d for sword and pistol,
Which did come at her command,
And she shot her Billy Taylor,
With his fair one in his hand.
_Fol lol, etc._
When the captain com’d for to hear on’t,
He werry much applauded her for what she had done;
And quickly he made her the first lieutenant
Of the gallant _Thunder Bomb_.
_Fol lol, etc._
_CAWSAND BAY._
In Cawsand Bay lying,
The Blue Peter flying,
And all hands turned up for the anchor to weigh;
There came a young lady,
As fresh as a May day,
And modestly hailing, this damsel did say:
‘I want my young man, there,
Do you hear! bear a han’ there,
To hoist me on board, or to send him to me;
His name’s Henry Grady,
And I am a lady
Come off to prevent him from going to sea.’
The captain, his honour,
When he looked upon her,
Ran down the ship’s side for to help her aboard;
Says he with emotion,
‘What son of the ocean
Can thus be looked after by Helena Ford?’
The lady made answer:
‘That there is my man, sir,
I’ll make him as fine and as free as a lord;’
‘No, no,’ says the cap’n,
‘That can’t very well happen,
I’ve got sailing orders; you, sir, stay on board.’
‘Avast,’ says the lady,
‘Don’t you heed him, Henry Grady,
He once was your captain, but now you’re at large;
You shan’t stay aboard here,
For all that man’s order;’
Then out of her bosom she hauled his discharge.
Says the captain, says he now:
‘I’m blowed, but he’s free now’;
Says Jack, ‘Let old Weatherface keep all my clothes;’
On shore then he steered her,
And the lads they all cheered her,
But the captain was jealous, and looked down his nose.
Then she got a shore tailor
To rig her young sailor
In tight Nankin breeches, and a blue long-tailed coat;
And he looked like a squire
For all to admire,
With a dimity handkerchief tied round his throat.
And they had a house greater
Than e’er a first-rater,
With servants in uniform handing the drink;
And a garden to go in
Where the flowers was a-blowin’,
The daisy, the buttercup, lily and pink.
And he got education
Quite fit for his station,
For you know we are never too old for to learn;
And his shipmates they found him,
With his young ones around him,
All chips of the old block, from the stem to the stern.
_GENERAL CAMPBELL._
It was in the month of April, upon the fourteenth day,
This expedition did embark to cross the raging sea;
Our fleet being well prepared, our anchors we did weigh,
To sail against the Burmese to show them British play.
When we embark’d from Madras it grieved our hearts full sore,
Our wives and children weeping as they sat on the shore,
Crying, ‘Art thou gone and left us thy absence for to mourn,
To languish on a foreign land awaiting thy return?’
We left the roads of Madras upon the sixteenth day;
Each man being well prepared and eager for the fray,
Our squadron form’d a brilliant line to shew a grand half-moon:
With British colours flying, we sailed against Rangoon.
When we were three days sailing, three sails appear’d in view;
We fir’d off a signal gun, when quickly they lay to:
Our commodore bore down on them, we followed him in line,
But they proved to be some British troops awaiting us to join.
Next to Port Cornwallis our course we then did steer,
And hoisted all our stunsails without either dread or fear.
The next thing that appear’d in view was the Calcutta fleet,
Was lying there at anchor, all waiting us to meet.
Our fleet being assembled (the sail was sixty-three)
A signal gun for sailing was fired instantly;
When out to sea we bore again, and sailed both night and day,
And on the tenth of May, my boys, we anchor’d in their bay.
It was early the next morning, the weather being fair,
We weigh’d our anchors to the bows, and up the river did steer.
The enemy commenced on shore to put us to the rout;
But we upon the decks did stand, resolved to fight it out.
The _Lilly_ frigate led the way, when clouds of smoke did rise,
The _Leander_ sloop in company, which did our foes surprise;
The _Sophia_ brig and gun boats, their cannon loud did roar,
Like thunder rent the elements all on the Burmese shore.
‘All hands prepare for landing!’ resounded through the fleet;
‘Let every man have sixty rounds his enemy for to meet.’
Like lions bold we rushed on shore at ten o’clock that day:
These cowardly dogs could not us stand, we forced them to give way.
Now Rangoon we have taken, let us drink unto our king;
May all his loyal subjects fresh laurels to him bring.
Likewise to General Campbell, who commanded on that day,
And pull’d their saucy peacock down on the eleventh day of May.
_THE BOLD ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN ROSS._
Air--_Tars of the ‘Blanche.’_
Come listen awhile with attention,
You seamen and landsmen likewise,
While I of a hero will mention
Which England, fam’d England, should prize.
Bold Ross was our noble commander,
His equal was ne’er seen before;
But mark what us sailors went under
When we sailed from Old England’s shore.
We sail’d to the Pacific Ocean,
Our hearts both undaunted and free,
Bold Ross cheered us all with the notion
That we should all prosperous be;
But our mainmast was soon smashed to pieces
While we hauled in the ship _Fury’s_ store.
Said Ross, ‘Now the tempest increases,
’Tis for honour of Old England’s shore.’
Long time in tempestuous weather,
’Midst rocks, ice and water were we;
We were staunch, bold, and vowed to each other
To die or the North Pole to see.
Ross espied from the ship’s starboard quarter
The land that did add to their store--
Crying, ‘Look out, my boys, for fresh water,
We’re far from Old England’s shore.’
Our hardships we bore, and were ready
To follow our brave captain’s call,
Who was bold, was undaunted but ready,
His study alone was us all;
While we roamed o’er the cold stormy regions,
On wilds that were ne’er trod before,
No cot, house, or church or religion,
Like those upon Old England’s shore.
You may talk about Parry and Cook, boys,
Who tried these cold regions to find--
Only a short trip they took, boys,
Then left the bright magnet behind.
Bold Ross left the British flag flying,
Which no one could e’er do before,
Then light-hearted, though nearly dying,
Came with glory to Old England’s shore.
’Twas thought that no one since Creation
Would find it until time did end;
But King William’s name of this nation
So proud on that magnet does bend.
So build for bold Ross a fine pillar,
And cast it with gold letters o’er;
Bold Ross brav’d the wave, ice, and billow,
In triumph reached Old England’s shore.
This hero, the pride of our nation,
Gained honour, likewise his ship’s crew;
May they rise into dignity’s station
For being undaunted and true.
Bold Ross, as a pledge of honour,
With the Lord Mayor of London did dine,
And they gave him three cheers and a bumper,
Drank to trade and to commerce in wine.
_THE CAPTURE OF ST. JEAN D’ACRE._
Come, all you old warlike liners, who boast of deeds of war
Achieved by famous Nelson in the glorious days of yore,
Hear what has happened lately along the Syrian coast:
The downfall of the Egyptians, of which we made our boast.
_So here’s a health to brave Napier; to brave Napier huzza!
Who conquered the Egyptians, and made them run away._
On the first day of November, and forty was the year,
The _Wasp_ off St. Jean d’Acre arrived, as you may hear.
That night we anchor’d in the bay, and lay there all the night;
At half-past ten the following day, the squadron hove in sight.
As they came in they anchor’d, and furl’d without more ado;
But some of us kept under weigh, the _Castor_, _Wasp_, and Co.
The next forenoon they all did weigh, (it was our admiral’s plan)
To close with St. Jean d’Acre; the _Powerful_ led the van.
We took up our positions, abreast of Acre town,
Determin’d, if they’d not give in, to knock their ramparts down.
A flag of truce was then sent in, but they refused to treat
Or come to any peaceful terms with this gallant British fleet.
At half-past two that afternoon the action did begin:
Our shot and shell swift flew like hail, the ramparts soon fell in;
The flagship and the _Powerful_ showed them smart British play,
Against the noble _Benbow’s_ fire the Egyptians could not stay.
The _Castor_ acted well her part: the foe strove hard to shake her,
But rather hot she sent her shot ’gainst the forts of St. Jean
d’Acre.
The _Edinburgh_ and _Revenge_, the _Carysfort_ and _Pique_,
The _Hazard_ and the _Talbot_ made them think of quick retreat.
The saucy _Thunderer_ that day poured forth her British thunder,
Knowing well it was the surest way to make her foes knock under.
Besides, four steamers fit for war were there, I am proud to tell;
They harassed well our enemy with death-conveying shell.
The warlike brave _Bellerophon_ is worthy of her name;
For as she ranged up to the forts she poured forth smoke and flame.
Austrian frigates and the Turks, although in number few,
By Britons led they did their best--great praise to them is due.
Then comes the little stinging _Wasp_, her weight in gold she’s
worth;
For under the walls of Acre she took a liner’s berth:
As close as ever she could get, her captain strove to take her,
And sprung her broadsides to the forts, and stung poor St. Jean
d’Acre.
That afternoon, at four o’clock, we heard a dreadful roar:
Each vessel trembled at the shock, each eye was turned on shore.
One of their magazines blew up, it was an awful sight;
Death made an awful conquest there, the heavens were black as night.
The poor Egyptians, paralysed, scarce knew what course to take,
And after five they all began their quarters to forsake:
A general terror soon was spread throughout the shattered town;
They confess’d us British conquerors and haul’d their colours down.
_THE BORNEO HEROES._
Come, all you jolly sailors bold, the truth you soon shall know
Concerning of a glorious fight on the Isle of Borneo.
As we were cruising off the coast we heard the dreadful news
How the pirates they had massacred our merchants’ crews.
_Huzza! huzza! huzza! huzza! with Captain Talbot, boys, we’ll
die or win the day!_
The news it flew like lightning, from ship to ship it ran:
Admiral Cochrane gave the word, brave Talbot led the van;
And soon we manned all our boats, and down the river flew.
Brave Talbot he commanded us with all the vessel’s crew.
_Huzza, etc._
When we came up to the boom we found it so secure,
The cannon from their batteries on us poor lads did pour;
But soon we cut our way through, like lions sprang on shore,
And soon five hundred pirates lay bleeding in their gore.
_Huzza, etc._
While they were bleeding in their gore we rushed into their town,
And there the produce of many a gallant ship we found;
For plunder and distribution, boys, it was our whole intent:
In one hour and twenty minutes the town to ashes sent.
_Huzza, etc._
When we returned to our admiral and told him the glorious news,
‘Three cheers, my boys, for England, and all the gallant crews!’
So we’ll drink to Admiral Cochrane, and gallant Talbot too,
The officers of the squadron, and all the vessel’s crew.
_Huzza, etc._
Now we have returned to England, to let our friends all know
How we destroyed the pirates on the coast of Borneo;
For we left the flag of England by all nations to be seen:
And for our reward we’ll boldly go, boys, to our gracious Queen.
_Huzza, etc._
_THE SLAVE CHASE._
Set every stitch of canvas to woo the fresh’ning wind;
Our bowsprit points to Cuba, the coast lies far behind.
Filled to the hatches full, my boys, across the seas we go;
There’s twice five hundred niggers in the stifling hold below.
‘A sail! What say you, boys? Well--let him give us chase
A British man-of-war you say--well, let him try the race;
There’s not a swifter vessel ever floated on the waves
Than our tidy little schooner well ballasted with slaves.’
Now stronger yet and stronger still came down the fiery breeze,
And ever fast and faster sped the strange ship on the seas,
Flinging each rude and bursting surge in glittering haloes back,
And bearing high to heaven aloft the English Union Jack!
‘Now curses on that ensign,’ the slaving captain said;
‘There’s little luck for slavers when the English bunting’s spread.
But pack on sail and trim the ship; before we’ll captured be
We’ll have the niggers up, my boys, and heave them in the sea.’
Hoarse was the slaving captain’s voice, and deep the oath he swore:
‘Haul down the flag; that’s shot enough, we don’t want any more.’
Alongside dashed the cruiser’s boat to board and seize the prize.
Hark to that rattling British cheer that’s ringing to the skies!
‘Up, up with the negroes speedily; up, up, and give them breath;
Clear out the hold from stem to stern: that noisome den is death;
And run aloft St. George’s Cross, all wanton let it wave,
The token proud that under it there never treads a slave.’
_THE RUSSIANS WON’T COME OUT._
Written by a seaman on board the _Cressy_.
What can we luckless sailors do? no fun comes to our share;
The enemy keeps out of view--to meet us they won’t dare!
In vain our pennants fly so gay, our cruisers roam about,
We might as well in Portsmouth lay--the Russians won’t come out!
In Helsingfors they lay quite close; ’neath Cronstadt mole they
crowd;
They’ll not come out and meet the foes whom once they dared so loud.
Like to some worn-out batter’d hulk each gallant ship so stout
Behind the batteries does skulk--the cowards won’t come out!
The _Arrogant_ and _Hecla_, too, gave them a lesson rough;
Tho’ fighting to our lads was new they proved both smart and tough;
They strewed the ground with soldiers gay, their batteries knocked
about,
And brought their merchant ships away, yet still they won’t come out!
While in the Baltic we deplore our idle time at sea,
Our comrades on the Turkish shore are as badly off as we.
Though many ships they’ve made their own, ta’en many a strong
redoubt,
And batter’d half Odessa down, the Russians won’t come out!
That mighty man, Prince Menschikoff, in harbour still does lie,
And at the Allied Fleets does scoff as they are sailing by.
‘Don’t think,’ says he, ‘that I’m a fool, a valiant, headstrong lout;
I’m safe and snug in Sebastopol, and be hanged if I’ll come out.’
Oh! would they but their anchors weigh and boldly put to sea,
With joy to see a sight so gay how full each heart would be;
But oh! such wishes are in vain: they know there’s little doubt,
They never would get in again if once they venture out.
_DON’T FORGET YOUR OLD SHIPMATE._
We’re the boys that fear no noise
Whilst thundering cannons roar,
And long we’ve toiled on the rolling wave,
And now we’re safe on shore.
_Don’t forget your old shipmate,
Fol de rol._
Since we sailed from Plymouth Sound,
Four years gone, to-night, Jack,
Were there ever chummies known,
Such as you and I, Jack?
_Don’t forget, etc._
We have served the self-same gun,
Quarter-deck division,
Sponger I, and loader you,
Through the whole commission.
_Don’t forget, etc._
Oftentimes have we laid out,
Toil nor danger fearing,
Hauling out the flapping sail
To the weather ear-ring.
_Don’t forget, etc._
When the middle watch was on,
And the time went slow, boy,
Who could tune a rousing stave,
Who like Jack or Joe, boy?
_Don’t forget, etc._
There she swings an empty hulk,
Not a soul below now;
Number seven, starboard mess,
Misses Jack and Joe now.
_Don’t forget, etc._
But the best of friends must part,
Fair or foul the weather;
Tip us your flipper for a shake,
Now a drink together;
_And don’t forget your old shipmate, etc._
NOTES
P. 1. =The Battle of Sluys.= From Joseph Hall’s edition of the _Poems_
of Lawrence Minot, p. 14. The following explanations of references and
words are from Mr. Hall’s notes:--
Line 1. Lithes = listen.
Stanza 1.--Suth = true; sad = serious; salue = greet; bute (bote) =
remedy, benefit.
Stanza 2.--Sir Hugh Kyret = Hugues Quiéret, Seigneur de Tours en
Vimieu; leve = believe; lare = teaching; brin (bren) = burn; unkind =
unnatural; sowed = smarted; lered = taught.
Stanza 3.--Buriase = burgesses; sone = soon; mekill = much, great;
grame = hurt.
Stanza 4.--Sergantes = sergeants, soldiers; snell = quick.
Stanza 5.--Dight = ready; kene = bold; byfor = before; Blankebergh =
Blanckenberghe, in West Flanders; sary = wretched; waniand = waning
(moon).
Stanza 6.--Sir Robard, &c. = Sir Robert Morley, Marshal of Ireland;
wonnen = captured; oway = gone, worthless.
Stanza 7.--Erle of Northamton = William de Bohun; wede = armour; Sir
Walter the Mawnay = Sir W. Manny; bede = offer.
Stanza 8.--The duc of Lankaster = Henry of Derby; drive = rush, dash
on; mody = courageous, proud; stint = stopped; strive = a conflict;
fone = few.
Stanza 9.--Eth = easy; raw = line, order of battle; fer = far; bud =
behoved.
Stanza 10.--Earl of Glowcester=Hugh de Audley; glade = gladden; biker =
fight; baldely = bravely; brim = sea, flood; at = to.
Stanza 11.--Prest = ready.
Stanza 12.--John of Aile = Jan van Eyle or Heylle; scheltron =
squadron; schene = bright; Cagent = Cadzant, in Zeeland; cantly =
eagerly; tene = sorrow.
Stanza 13.--Swith = quickly; skrith = escape; kouth = knew; kith = show.
Stanza 14.--Kogges = cogs, or cocks, ships of burden; stound = time,
short time.
Stanza 15.--Wall = choice; flude (flode) = sea; confort = cheer.
Stanza 16.--Gert = caused; blin = cease.
P. 3. =Les Espagnols sur Mer.= From Joseph Hall’s edition of the
_Poems_ of Lawrence Minot, p. 33.
Stanza 1.--Spede = cause to prosper; wight = stout; dale = earth,
grave; fele = many; fare = brag.
Stanza 2.--Taburns = tabours, small drums; weremen = warriors; holl =
hull.
Stanza 3.--Hurdis = bulwark; on here = on high; neghed = approached;
snaper = stumble; ferr = farther; fine = come to an end, die; tyne =
lose; reved = carried off.
Stanza 4.--Boy with thi blac berd--Barbenoire or Bocca-Negra, pirate
of Genoa; rede = advise; blin = cease; were on = fight against; domp =
plunge; lout = bow low to.
P. 4. =The Pilgrims’ Sea Voyage.= From a MS. in the library of Trinity
College, Cambridge. Edited by J. F. Furnivall for the Early English
Text Society in 1867; also printed in Halliwell’s _Early Naval
Ballads_, p. 1. Date of MS. temp. Henry VI. A translation is given by
Clowes, _The Royal Navy_, i. 344.
On p. 5, line 15, ‘lyle’ is a misprint for ‘lyke.’
Stanza 1.--Gramys = troubles.
Stanza 2.--Hissa = hoist away: French ‘hissez’; crake = talk.
Stanza 3.--Taylia = haul aft the sheet.
Stanza 4.--No nere = steer no nearer the wind. The note of
interrogation is clearly wrong.
Stanza 5.--Trussa = haul on the truss; probably the French ‘troussez.’;
Wartake = French ‘uretacque’ (Jal); defined by Falconer as ‘the
preventer fore tack.’ Cf. _Inventories of Henry VII._, p. 71.
Stanza 6.--Pery = a squall; Thou canst no whery = thou understandest
not a ship.
P. 6. =Sir Andrew Barton.= Text in Hales and Furnivall, _Bishop
Percy’s Folio MS._, iii. 399, and in Child, _English and Scottish
Popular Ballads_, iii. 334. There is also a later broadside version
which is printed in _A Collection of Old Ballads_, 1723, i. 159, and
in _Roxburghe Ballads_, i. 10. Percy’s _Reliques_ contains a composite
version.
Bishop Percy’s MS. is said to belong to the reign of Charles I., but
the version of this ballad it contains probably belongs to an earlier
period. It apparently attributes to Charles, Lord Howard of Effingham,
who died in 1624, the exploit of his kinsman, Sir Edward Howard, who
died in 1513, a kind of confusion which is not uncommon in ballads
handed down by tradition.
Contemporary narratives give no account of Sir Edward Howard’s
tactics, and the details given are probably the invention of the author
of the ballad. The reference to ‘beams’ in stanzas 7 and 9 on p. 9
has been explained in many different ways. One explanation is that it
refers to some primitive form of ram, such as that described by De la
Roncière in his _Histoire de la Marine Française_, i. 256. Another is,
that the ‘beams,’ also termed in the MS. ‘beanes’ or ‘beaves,’ were
heavy weights designed to be dropped on the enemy’s ship. It seems more
likely that some apparatus for grappling the enemy’s ship was meant.
‘He clasped me to his archborde’ says the merchant in stanza 3 on p.
9. ‘Archborde’ is explained by Hales and Furnivall in a note to mean
the side of a ship, and to be the same as hatch-bord.’ _Bishop Percy’s
Folio MS._, iii. 407.
The two following stanzas from Percy’s _Reliques_, i. 335, ed. 1893,
will serve to fill the gap on p. 10 of the text:
‘And seven pieces of ordinance,
I pray your honour lend to mee,
On each side of my ship along,
And I will lead you on the sea.
A glasse Ile sett, that may be seene,
Whether you sayle by day or night;
And to-morrowe, I sweare, by nine of the clocke
You shall meet with Sir Andrew Barton, knight.’
THE SECOND PART.
‘The merchant sett my lorde a glasse
So well apparent in his sight,
And on the morrowe, by nine of the clocke,
He shewed him Sir Andrewe Barton, knight.
His hachebord it was gilt with gold,
So deerlye dight it dazzled the ee:
“Nowe by my faith,” lord Howarde sais,
This is a gallant sight to see.’
P. 16. =John Dory.= Text in Ritson, _Ancient Songs and Ballads_, ed.
1877, p. 198, and in Child, _English and Scottish Popular Ballads_, v.
131. The ballad was first printed in 1609, but is mentioned in 1575.
Tune in Chappell, _Old English Popular Music_, i. 93, ed. Wooldridge.
It refers to no known historical event, but is perhaps a traditional
account of some incident in the Hundred Years’ War. Carew, in his
_Survey of Cornwall_, refers to the ballad as ‘an old three-man’s song’
about ‘one Nicholas, son to a widow near Foy’ (ed. 1602, p. 135).
P. 17. =The Mariner’s Song.= From the _Comedy of Common Conditions_,
circa 1570. Printed by J. P. Collier, _English Dramatic Poetry_, ed.
1879, ii. 293; also in Stone’s _Sea Songs and Ballads_, p. 4.
P. 18. =The Obtaining of the Great Galleazzo.= _Roxburghe Ballads_,
vi. 384. Also printed in Arber’s _Tudor Tracts_, p. 485, and in J. P.
Collier’s _Broadside Black-Letter Ballads_, 1868, p. 79, which gives
some variants. By Thomas Deloney.
P. 21. =The Winning of Cales.= _Roxburghe Ballads_, vi. 402. Printed
also in Hales and Furnivall, _Bishop Percy’s Folio MS._, iii. 453,
which gives some variants. Written by Thomas Deloney, and probably
first appeared in his _Garland of Good Will_, about 1596, soon after
the capture of Cadiz.
P. 23. =The Sailor’s Onely Delight.= _Roxburghe Ballads_, vi. 408. A
version with variants is given by Child, _English and Scottish Popular
Ballads_, v. 133. In Fletcher’s _Two Noble Kinsmen_, the jailor’s
daughter sings a fragment of an earlier version:
The George Alow came from the South
From the coast of Barbary-a;
And there he met with brave gallants of war
By one, by two, by three-a.
Well hail’d, well hail’d, you jolly gallants,
And whither now are you bound-a?
O let me have your company
Till [I]come unto the Sound-a.