Then commeth owre owner lyke a lorde,
And speketh many a royall worde.
And dresseth hym to the hygh borde.
To see all thyng be well.
EARLY NAVAL BALLADS.
Anone he calleth a carpentere,
And biddyth hyin bryng with hym hys gere,
To make the cabans here and there,
With many a febyl cell.
A sak of strawe were there ryght good,
For som must lyg theym in theyr hood ;
I had as lefe be in the wood,
Without mete or drynk.
For when that we shall go to bedde.
The purape was nygh our bedde hede,
A man were as good to be dede,
As smell thereof the stynk.
A TRUE RELATION OF THE LIFE AND DEATH
OF SIR ANDREW BARTON, A PYRATE
AND ROVER ON THE SEAS.
The present text of the following ballad, which has beeu printed
by Percy and others, is taken from an original black-letter copy
preserved in the British Museum. It will be seen that the several
versions vary considerably from each other.
Tunc — " Come, follow my love," &c.
When Flora with her fragrant flowers
bedeckt the earth so trim and gay,
And Neptune with his dainty showers
came to present the month of May,
EARLY NAVAL BALLADS.
King Henry would a hunting ride,
over the river Thames passed he.
Unto a mountain-top also
did walk, some pleasure for to see :
Where fortj' merchants he espy'd,
with fifthy sail came towards him,
Who then no sooner were arriv'd,
but on their knees did thus complain :
" A n't please your grace, we cannot sail
to France no voyage to be sure,
But Sir Andrew Barton makes us quail,
and robs us of our marchant ware."
Vext was the King, and turning him.
Said to the Lords of high degree,
" Have I ne'er a Lord within my realm,
dare fetch that traytor unto me ?"
To him reply 'd, Charles Lord Howard,
" I will, my liege, with heart and hand ;
If it will please you grant me leave," he said,
" I will perform what you command."
To him then spoke King Henry,
" I fear, my Lord, you are too young. "
" No whit at all, my Liege," quoth he ;
" I hope to prove in valour strong :
The Scotch knight I vow to seek,
in what place soever he be, .
And bring ashore with all his might,
or into Scotland he shall carry me."
EARLY NAVAI> IJALLADS.
"A hundred men," the King then said,
" out of my realm shall chosen be,
Besides sailors and ship-boys,
to guide a great ship on the sea :
Bow-men and gunners of good skill
shall for this service chosen be,
And they at thy command and will,
in all affairs shall wait on thee."
Lord Howard call'd a gunner then,
who was the best in all the realm.
His age was threescore years and ten,
and Peter Simon was his name :
My Lord call'd then a bow-man rare,
whose active hands had gain'd fame,
A gentleman born in Yorkshire,
and William Horsely was his name.
" Horsely," quoth he, " I must to sea
to seek a traytor, with good speed ;
Of a hundred bow-men brave," quoth he,
" 1 have chosen thee to be the head."
" If you, my Lord, have chosen me
of a hundred men to be the head.
Upon the main mast I'll hanged be,
if twelve score I miss one shilling's breadth.
Lord Howard then of courage bold,
went to the sea with pleasant cheer,
Not curb'd with winter's piercing cold,
tho' it was the stormy time of year ;
EARLY NAVAL BALLADS.
Not long had he been on sea,
more in days than number three,
But one Henry Hunt there he espy'd,
a merchant of New-castle was he ;
To him Lord Howard cali'd out amain,
and strictly charged him to stand,
Demanding then from whence he came,
or where he did intend to land :
The merchant then made answer soon,
with heavy heart and careful mind,
" My Lord, my ship it doth belong
unto New-castle upon Tine."
" Canst thou shew me," the Lord did say,
" as thou didst sail by day and night,
A Scottish rover on the sea,
his name is Andrew Barton, knight?"
Then the merchant sigh'd and said,
with grieved mind, and well away,
" But over well I know that wight,
I was his prisoner yesterday :
" As I, my Lord, did sail from France,
a Burdeave voyage to take so far,
I met with Sir Andrew Barton thence,
who rob'd me of my merchant ware :
And mickle debts God knows I owe,
and every man doth crave his own ;
And I am bound to London now,
of our gracious King to beg a boon."
EARLY NAVAL T5ALLADS.
" Show me him," said Lord Howard then,
" let me once the villain see,
And ev'ry penny he hath from thee ta'en,
I'll double the same with shillings three."
" Now God forbid," the merchant said,
" I fear your aim that you will miss :
God bless you from his tyranny,
for little you think what man he is.
" He is brass within and steel without,
his ship most huge and mighty strong,
With eighteen pieces of ordnance
he carrieth on each side along :
With beams for his top-castle,
as also being huge and high.
That neither English nor Portugal
can Sir Andrew Barton pass by."
" Hard news thou shew'st," then said the Lord,
" to welcome stranger to the sea :
But as I said, I'll bring him aboard,
or into Scotland he shall carry me."
The merchant said, " If you will do so,
take councel then, I pray, withal,
Let no man to his top -castle go,
nor strive to let his beams down fall."
" Lend me seven pieces of ordnance then
of each side of my ship," said he,
" And to morrow, my Lord,
again I will your honour see :
EARLY NAVAL BALLADS.
A glass I set as may be seen,
whether you sail by day or night ;
And to morrow be sure before seven,
you shall see Sir Andrew Barton, knight."
The merchant set my Lord a glass
so well apparent in his sight,
That on the morrow, as his promise was,
he saw Sir Andrew Barton, knight ;
The Lord then swore a mighty oath,
" Now by the heavens that be of might.
By faith, believe me, and by troth,
1 think he is a worthy knight."
Sir Andrew Barton seeing him
thus scornfully to pass by,
As tho' he cared not a pin
for him and his company ;
Then called he his men amain,
" Fetch back yon pedlar now," quoth he,
*' And ere this way he comes again,
I'll teach him well his courtesie."
" Fetch me my lyon out of hand,"
saith the Lord, " with rose and streamer high ;
Set up withal a willow-wand,
that merchant like I may pass by."
Thus bravely did Lord Howard pass,
and on anchor rise so high ;
No top-sail at last he cast,
but as a foe did him defie.
10 EARLY NAVAI. JJALF^ADS.
A piece of ordnance soon was shot,
by this proud pirate fiercely then,
Into Lord Howard's middle deck,
which cruel shot killed fourteen men.
He called then Peter Simon, he :
" Look how thy word do stand instead,
For thou shalt be hanged on main-raast,
if thou miss twelve score one penny breath.
Then Peter Simon gave a shot,
which did Sir Andrew mickle scare,
In at his deck it came so hot,
kill'd fifteen of his men of war;
" Alas," then said the Pirate stout,
"I am in danger now I see;
This is some lord I greatly fear,
that is set on to conquer me."
Then Henry Hunt, M'ith riguor hot,
came bravely on the other side.
Who likewise shot in at his deck,
and killed fifty of his men beside :
Then, " Out, alas," Sir Andrew cry'd,
" What may a man now think or say,
Yon merchant-thief that pierceth me,
he was my prisoner yesterday."
Then did he on Gordion call,
unto the top-castle for to go,
And bid his beams he should let fall,
for he greatly fear'd an overthrow.
EARLY NAVAL BALLADS. 11
The Lord call'd Horsley, now in haste,
" Look that thy word stand instead,
For thou shalt be hanged on main-mast,
If thou miss twelve score a shilling's breath."
Then up mast-tree swerved he,
this stout and mighty Gordion ;
But Horsley he most happily
shot him under his collar-bone :
Then call'd he on his nephew then,
said, " Sister's sons 1 have no mo.
Three hundred pound I will give thee,
if thou wilt to top- castle go."
Then stoutly he began to climb,
from off the mast scorn'd to depart :
But Horsley soon prevented him,
and deadly pierc'd him to the heart.
His men being slain, then up amain
did this proud pirate climb with speed,
For armour of proof he had put on,
and did not dint of arrows dread :
" Come hither, Horsley," said the Lord,
" see thou thy arrows aim aright;
Great means to thee I will afford,
and if thou speedst, I'll make thee knight:"
Sir Andrew did climb up the tree,
Avith risht good will and all his main ;
Then upon the breast hit Horsley he,
till the arrow did return again :
12 KART-Y NAVAL IJAF.I,A1)S.
Then Horsley 'spied a private place,
with a perfect eye in a secret part,
His arrow swiftly flew apace,
and smote Sir Andrew to the heart :
" Fight on, fight on, my merry men all,
a little I am hurt, yet not slain;
I'll but lie down and bleed awhile,
and come and fight you again :
" And do not," said he, " fear English rogues,
and of your foes stand not in awe.
But stand fast by St. Andrew's crosse,
until you hear my whistle blow."
They never heard his whistle blow,
which made them all full sore afraid.
Then Horsley said, " My Lord aboard,
for now Sir Andrew Barton's dead ;"
Thus boarded they this gallant ship,
with right good will and all their main,
Eighteen score Scots alive in it,
besides as many more was slain.
The Lord went where Sir Andrew lay,
and quickly thence cut off his head ;
" I should forsake England many a day,
if thou wert alive as thou art dead."
Thus from the wars Lord Howard came,
w ith mickle joy and triumphing ;
The pirate's head he brought along
for to present unto our King :
EARLY NAVAL BALLADS. 13
Who briefly unto him did say,
before he knew well what was done,
" Where is the knight and pirate gay,
that I nayself may give the doom?"
" You may thank God," then said the Lord,
" and four men in the ship," quoth he,
" That we are safely come ashore,
sith you never had such an enemy :
That is, Henry Hunt, and Peter Simon,
William Horsely and Peter's son ;
Therefore reward tliem for their pains,
for they did service at their turn."
To the merchant therefore the King he said,
" In lieu of what he hath from thee tane,
I give thee a noble a-day ;
Sir Andrew's whistle and his chain :
To Peter Simon a crown a day ;
and half-a-crown a-day to Peter's son.
And that was for a shot so gay,
which bravely brought Sir Andrew down :
Horsely, I will make thee a knight,
and in Yorkshire thou shalt dwell:
Lord Howard shall Earl Bury hight,
for this act he deserveth well :
Ninety pound to our English men,
who in this fight did stoutly stand ;
And twelve pence a-day to the Scots till they
come to my brother king's high land.
Printed by and for "VV. O. and sold by the Booksellers.
14 EARLY NAVAL IJAT-LADS.
IN PRAIS OF SEAFARINGE MEN, IN HOPE OF
The two following ballads are taken from MS. Sloane, 2497, fol. 47,
a manuscript in the British Museum of the time of Queen Eliza-
beth. The note at the end of this ballad enables us to determine
its date, for it can scarcely refer to any other " farewell" than that
of Sir Richard Greenville, who fitted out a squadron for foreign
discovery in the spring of the year 1585. As usual in the manu-
script documents of the time of Queen Elizabeth, the orthography
of the gallant officer's name is strangely metamorphosed; and,
were I induced to follow the example of many writers of the pre-
sent day, I might reasonably take to myself the credit of having
discovered the proper mode of writing it, and be the first to com-
mence an innovation, which, on account of its novelty alone,
would be certain of meeting with a numerous body of supporters.
Whoe siekes the waie to win renowne,
Or flies with whinges of hie desarte,
Whoe seikes to wear the lawrea crouen,
Or hath the mind that would espire,
Lett him his native soylle eschew,
Lett him go rainge and seeke a newe.
Eche hawtie harte is well contente.
With everie chance that shal betyde ;
No hap can hinder his entente ;
He steadfast standes, though fortune slide.
The sunn, quoth he, doth shine as well
Abrod, as earst where I did dwell.
EARLY NAVAL BALLADS. 15
In chaynge of streames each fish can live,
Eche foule content with everie ayre,
Eche hautie hart remainethe still,
And not be dround in depe dispaire :
Wherfor I judg all landes alicke,
To hautie hartes whom fortune sicke.
Too pas the seaes som thinkes a toille,
Sura thinkes it strange abrod to rome,
Sum thinkes it a grefe to leave their soylle,
Their parents, cynfolke, and their vi'horae.
Thinke soe who list, I like it nott ;
I must abrod to trie my lott.
Whoe list at whome at carte to drudge,
And carke and care for worldlie trishe,
With buckled sheoes let him goe trudge,
Instead of launce a whip to slishe ;
A mynd that base his kind will show,
Of caronn sweete to feed a crowe.
If Jasonn of that mynd had bine.
The Gresions when thay cam to Troye,
Had never so the Trogian's foylde,
Nor never put them to such anoye :
Wherfore who lust to live at whome.
To purchas fame I will go rome.
Finis, Sur Richard GrinfiUdes farewell.
16 EARLY NAVAL IJALLADS.
ANOTHER OF SEAFARDINGERS, DESCRIBING
[MS. Sloane, 2497, fol. 47.]
What pen can well reporte tlie plighte
Of those that travell on the seaes ?
To pas the werie winters nighte
With storraie cloudes wisshinge for daie,
With waves that toss them to and fro, —
Thair pore estate is hard to show.
W^hen bolstering windes begins to blowe
On cruell costes, from haven wee,
The foggie mysts soe dimes the shore,
The rocks and sajides we raaie not see,
Nor have no rome on seas to trie,
But praie to God and yeld to die.
When shauldes and sandie bankes apears,
What pillot can direct his course ?
When fominge tides draueth us so nere,
Alas ! what forteun can be worse ?
Then ankers haald must be our stale,
Or ellce we falle into decaye.
We wander still from lofFe to lie,
And findes no steadfast wind to blow ;
W^e still reraaine in jeopardie,
Each perelos poynt is hard to showe ;
In time we hope to find redresse.
That lonfre have lived in heviues.
EARLY NAVAL BALLADS. 17
O pinchinge, werie, lothsome lyfe,
That travell still in far exsylle,
The dangers great on sease be ryfe,
Whose recompence doth yeld but toylle !
O Fortune, graunte me mie desire, —
A hapie end I doe require.
When freats and states have had their fill.
And gentill calm the cost will clere,
Then hautie liartes shall have their will,
That longe hast wept with morning cheere ;
And leave the seaes with thair anoy.
At home at ease to live in joy.
THE SPANISH ARMADA.
The following, which appears, says Mr. Chappell, to have been
written at the time of the threatened invasion of the Spanish
Armada, is taken from a manuscript in the possession of Mr.
Pearsall, bearing the date of 158S. The music of the song is
given by Mr. Chappell.
From mercilesse invaders.
From wicked men's device,
O God 1 arise and helpe us,
To quele owre enemies.
Sinke deepe their potent navies,
Their strength and corage breake,
O God I arise and arm us,
For Jesus Christ, his sake.
18 EARLY NAVAf. BALLADS.
Though cruel Spain and Parma
With heathene legions come,
O God 1 arise and arm us,
We'll dye for owre home !
We will not change owre Credo
For Pope, nor boke, nor bell ;
And yf the Devil come himself.
We'll hounde him back to hell.
SIR FRANCIS DRAKE: OR, EIGHTY-EIGHT.
[From MS. Harl. 791, fol. 59.]
In eyghtye-eyght, ere I was borne,
As I can well remember.
In August was a fleete prepar'd.
The moneth before September.
Spayne, with Biscayne, Portugall,
Toledo and Granado,
All these did meete, and made a fleete,
And call'd it the Armado.
Where they had gott provision,
As mustard, pease, and bacon,
Some say two shipps were full of whipps,
But I thinke they were mistaken.
EARLY NAVAL BALLADS. 19
There was a litle man of Spaine,
That shott well in a gunn-a,
Don Pedro hight, as good a knight
As the Knight of the Sun-a.
King Phillip made him Admirall,
And charged him not to stay-a,
But to destroy both man and boy,
And then to runn away-a.
The King of Spayne did freet amayne,
And to doe yet more harme-a,
He sent along, to make him strong,
The famous prince of Parma.
When they had sayl'd along the seas.
And anchor'd uppon Dover,
Our Englishmen did bourd them then,
And cast the Spaniards over.
Our Queene was then att Tilbury,
What could you more desire-a ?
For whose sweete sake. Sir Francis Drake
Did sett them all on fyre-a.
But let them looke about themselfes,
For if they come againe-a,
They shall be serv'd with that same sauce,
As they weere, I know when- a.
20 EARLY NAVAL BALLADS.
SIR FRANCIS DRAKE: OR, EIGHTY-EIGHT.
The following is another version of the foregoing ballad, and is
taken from " Wit and Mirth, or Pills to Purge Melancholy," vol.
ii. p. 37. The tune is also given by D'Urfey, Another copy is
given in the "Westminster Drollery," 12mo. Lond. 167 J.
To the tune of Eighty-eight.
Some years of late, in Eighty eight,
As I do well remember-a,
It was, some say, on the ninth of May,
And some say in September-a.
The Spanish train launch'd forth a-main.
With many a fine bravado.
Whereas they thought, but it prov'd nought,
The Invincible Armado.
There was a little man tliat dwelt in Spain,
That shot well in a gun -a,
Don Pedro hight, as black a wight,
As the Knight of the Sun-a.
King Philip made him Admiral,
And bad him not to stay-a,
But to destroy both man and boy.
And so to come away- a.
The Queen was then at Tilbury,
What could we more desire-a?
Sir Francis Drake, for her sweet sake,
Did set 'em all on fire-a.
EARLY NAVAL BALLADS. 21
Away they ran by sea and land,
So that one man slew three seore-a,
And had not they all run away,
O my soul, we had killed more-a.
Then let them neither brag nor boast.
For if they come again-a,
Let them take heed they do not speed,
As they did they know when-a.
SITTING AND DRINKING IN A CHAIR MADE OUT OF THE
RELIQUES OF SIR FRANCIS DRAKE's SHIP.
From a rare collection of " Choyce Poems,'' printed at London
in the seventeenth century, a copy of which is preserved in the
Chear up, my mates ! the wind doth fairly blow,
Clap on more sails, and never spare,
Farewel all land I for now we are
In the wide sea of drink, and merrily we go.
Bless me I 'tis hot, another bowl of wine.
And we shall cut the burning line !
Hey, boys ! she sends it away, and by my head I know
We round the world are sailing now.
What dull men are those who tarry at home,
When abroad they might wantonly roam ?
22 f:arly naval ^ballads.
And gain such experience ; and spie too
Such countries and wonders as I do ?
But prithee, good pilot, take heed what you do.
And fail not to touch at Peru,
WiMi gold there the vessel to store,
And never, and never be poor,
And never be poor any more.
What do I mean ? What thoughts do me misguide ?
As well upon a stafFe may witches ride
Their fancied journeys in the air,
As I sail round the world in a chair ;
'Tis true, but yet this chair which here you see,
For all its quiet now and gravity,
Has wand'red and has travell'd more
Then ever beast, or fish, or bird, or ever tree before ;
In every air, in every sea tas been,
'Tis compasst all the earth, and all the heaven tas seen,
Let not the pope's itself with this compare.
This is the only universal chair.
The pious wandrers fleet, sav'd from the flame
(Which still the reliques did of Troy pursue.
And took them for its due)
A squadron of immortal nymphs became,
Still with their arras they row'd about the seas.
And still made new and greater voyages :
Nor has the first poetique ship of Greece,
Though now a star, she so triumphant show.
And guides her sailing successors below,
(Bright as her antient fraighi, the shining fleece)
EARLY NAVAL BALLADS. 2:3
Yet to this daj^ a quiet harbour found,
The tide of heaven still carries her around ;
Only Drake's sacred vessel (which before
Had done, and had seen more
Then those have done or seen.
Even since they goddesses, and this a star has been,)
As a reward for all her labours past.
Is made the seat of rest at last.
Let the case now quite altered be ;
And as thou went'st abroad the world to see,
Let the world now come to see thee.
The world will do't for curiosity.
Does no lesse than devotion pilgrims make,
And I myself, who now love quiet too,
As much almost as any chair can do.
Would yet a journey take
An old wheel of that charriot to see ;
Which Phseton so rashly brake, [Drake ?
Yet what could that say more then these remains of
Great relique ' thou too in this port-of-ease
Hast still one way of making voyages.
The breath of fame, like an auspicious gale
(The great trade wind which nere does fail)
Still with full triramc, and spreading sail.
Shall drive thee round the world, and thou shalt run
As long around it as the sun.
The straights of time too narrow are for thee,
Launch forth into an undiscovered sea,
And steer the endless course of vast eternity.
Take for thy sail this verse, and for thy pilot me.
24 EARLY NAVAL HALLADS.
SIR FRANCIS DRAKE AND QUEEN ELIZABETH.
The following is taken from " Wit and Drollery," 12ino. Lond.
1656. Another copy is preserved in MS. No. 36, in the Ashmolean
iMuseum at Oxford, fol. 296.
Sir Francis, Sir Francis, Sir Francis his son,
Sir Robert, and eke Sir William did come.
And eke the good Earle of Southampton,
Marcht on his way most gallantly ;
And then the Queen began to speak :
You are welcome home Sir Francis Drake;
Then came my L.Chamberlain,and with his white stafFe,
And all the people began for to laugh.
THE queen's speech.
Gallants all of British blood.
Why do not ye saile on th' ocean flood ?
I protest ye are not all worth a philberd,
Compared with Sir Humphry Gilberd.
THE queen's REASON.
For he walkt forth in a rainy day,
To the New-found-land he took his way,
With many a gallant fresh and green ;
He never come home again. God bless the Queen.
EARLY NAVAL BALLADS. 25
THE FAME OF SIR FRANCIS DRAKE.
Fkom a little duodecimo volume, printed at London in the year
1641, under the title of "Witt's Recreations, augmented with
ingenious conceites for the Wittie, and merrie medicines for the
Sir Drake, whom well the world's end knew,
Which thou did compasse round,
And whom both poles of heaven once saw,
Which north and south do bound.
The starres above would make thee knowne,
If men here silent were ;
The sun himselfe cannot forget
THE TRIUMPH OF SIR FRANCIS DRAKE.
It is probably a chimerical idea, but I cannot help thinking that
there is some similarity between this song and one of the airy
rhymes of the White Lady of Avenel. It is taken from the well-
known opera of" Sir Francis Drake."
Steersman. Aloof ! and aloof ! and steady I steer !
'Tis a boat to our wish,
And she slides like a fish
When chearily stem'd, and when you row clear.
She now has her trimme !
Away let her swim,
Mackrels are swift in the shine of the moon ;
And herrings in gales when they wind us,
But, timeing our oars, so smoothly we run
That we leave them in shoals behind us.
26 EARLY NAVAL BALLADS.
Chonis. Then cry, one and all !
Amain I for Whitehall.
The Diegos wee'l board to ruinmidge their Iiould,
And drawing our steel they must draw out their gold.
Steersman. Our master and's mate, with bacon and pease,
In cabins keep aboard ;
Each as warm as a lord :
No queen, lying-in, lies more at her ease.
Whilst we lie in wait
For reals of eight,
And for some gold quoits, which fortune must send :
But, alas, how their ears will tingle,
When finding, though still like Hectors we spend,
Yet still all our pockets shall jingle.
Chorus. Then cry, one and all !
Steersman. Oh, how the purser shortly will wonder,
When he sums in his book
All the wealth we have took,
And finds that wee'l give him none of the plunder;
He means to abate
The tyth for the state ;
Then for our owners some part he'l discount :
But his fingers are pitcht together ;
Where so much will stick, that little will mount,
When he reckons the shares of either.
Chorus. Then cry, one and all !
EARLY NAVAL BALLADS, 27
Steersman. At sight of our gold the boatswain will bristle,
But not finding his part,
He will break his proud heart,
And hang himself strait i'th'chain of his whistle.
Abaft and afore !
Make way to the shore !
Softly as fishes which slip through the stream.
That we may catch their sentries napping.
Poor little Diegos, they now little dream
Of us the brave warriors of \\ apping.