Part 17

Behold, noble captain, the sorrowful tears, That down my cheeks trickle amain, To move your hard heart to release me of fear And to grant me my love once again.

No maiden’s heart ever was so full of woe, Then, good sir, take pitty on me; And let him no further into the wars go, But be pleased to set my love free.

CAPTAIN.

O cease thy suit, damsel, and be not so sad, Let reason thy mind now aswage; Ten thousand such seamen must e’re long be had, All against the proud foes to engage.

MAN.

My dearest, why dost thou the captain offend? Thou seest he by no means will yield; And I am resolved my blood for to spend Upon the salt sea or in field.

Therefore be contented, and cease thy sad moan, Take comfort, and do thou not fear; If fortune befriend me, when as I am gone, I shall once again see mine own dear.

MAID.

My dearest, since thou must be parted from me, And here must no longer remain, The thought of thy love all my comfort shall be Until I do see thee again.

Each hour for thy welfare to God will I pray, That He will in safety preserve My own dearest lover by night and by day Whilst he on the ocean doth serve.

This token, I prethee, love, for my sake keep, Remember me when you it wear; This parting kiss take, which doth cause me to weep, And so heavens bless mine own dear.

MAN.

Adieu, my dear jewel: thy love I have found; Our parting doth grieve me full sore. The drums they do beat, and the trumpets do sound, And I must stay no longer on shore.

_THE MAIDENS FROLICK; OR, A BRIEF RELATION HOW SIX LUSTY LASSES HAS PREST FULL FOURTEEN TAYLORS ON THE BACKSIDE OF ST. CLEMENTS, AND THE OTHER ADJACENT PLACES._

To the Tune of _An Orange_.

Of late near the Strand, we well understand, Six lasses that took a brisk frollick in hand; ’Twas thus, I profess, they in seaman’s dress, Not far from the May-pole, resolved to press _Fourteen taylors_.

Young Nancy she ty’d a sword by her side, And she was resolved for to be their guide: This young female crew, Kate, Bridget, and Prue, And she that went formost was Lieutenant Sue, _Pressing taylors_.

These maids by consent, their minds fully bent, First thro’ the back side of St. Clements they went, Where just in the street they a taylor did meet; They prest him, and streight he fell down at their feet: ‘_I’m a taylor_.

‘I tell you,’ said he, ‘I ne’er was at sea, And therefore, kind gentlemen, pray set me free, And pity these tears; I have liv’d forty years, And never us’d weapon but bodkin and shears. _I’m a taylor._’

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.