The flames and the smoak Soe increased theyr woe, Oure guns we kept firyng, They had noe where to fly. At length, being forced, And soe a conclusion At last we did make, The Spanish Armado We did them bumbaste,1 And made them of English men's When this noble victory We did obtaine, Then home we returnèd 1 Bombard. ANONYMOUS. THE ROYAL VICTORY.1 LET England and Irelande and Scotlande rejoyce, As deals with the Devil And eke with the Dutch. For why should my nature or conscience repine Soe high a victory wee could not commande, Who vapour'd and swagger'd, Like lords in a hutch: But let the bold Hollander burn, sinke or swimme— They have honour enough to be beaten bye him. Fyre, aire, earth and water, it seems, were employ'd To those who doe fyght against God and the King. 1 This, as a broadside has it, was "obtain'd-with the Providence of Almighty God-on June 3, 1665," by the Duke of York (afterwards James II). The Duke fell in with the Dutch fleet, off Harwich, blew up the Dutch admiral's ship, took eighteen first-raters, and sank fourteen other vessels of different ratings. The duke-so excellent an admiral, yet, alas, so poor a king !—was also in command of the English fleet when it and the French allies fell foul of the Dutch in Southwold Bay, May 28, 1672; an action that was bloody and obstinate yet so indecisive that, although the duke chased the Hollanders down to their own coasts, it was not really finished till Prince Rupert defeated Ruyter in the following year, when they agreed thereafter to strike to the British flag on its own seas. The battel was hot The fyre was like rain, And like hayle was the shott; For in this ingagement ten thousand did bleed In this cruell conflict stout Opdam was slaine It was his goode fate To fall at that rate Who sinke under princes Are buried in state: Suche courage fortune in one grave must lye; The gallant younge fellow, the son of Van Trump 1— Whose braines were beat out bye the head of the "Rump❞— Engaging with Holmes, a brave captain of ours, He noe longer could swimme; But he that caught fishes, Now fishes catch him. They eat upp our fishe, without reasone or lawes; 2 1 These references to the Van Tromps, father and son, are all wrong. Marten the elder (who had sailed up and down the Channel with a broom at his masthead, on the supposition that he had swept the English from the seas) lost thirty sail and was killed in an engagement with Monk, off the Dutch coast, July 31, 1653; while Monk-whom Charles II made Duke of Albemarle for his chief share in the Restoration-was certainly a long way from ever being the head of the Rump' Parliament, which dissolved itself in March 1660, three months after Monk returned from his five years' governance of Scotland. Cornelius, the son of Marten, died peacefully in Amsterdam in 1691. 66 2 This was just the old, old complaint against Dutch and French fishermen poaching in English waters, which was done very largely at that time, and often caused fights when the English fishermen caught them; it has continued ever since, but to a far less extent during the past thirty years. To mocke at men's miserie is not mine aime, 1 Who will for Amboyna 1 For he that did comber his conscience with guilt, In this cruell contest (our fortune was suche) They tortur'd our men, They look'd not to have With fyre and with water their sinews were crackt— In fyre and in water these dy'd for the fact. According as our God of Battel commanded, The best of their vessels we fyr'd and stranded,- But 'twas soe extream, Our men were neare dying With killing of them: They lost, when the muskets and cannons soe thunder'd, Twice soe manye thousand as we have lost hundred. 'Twould make a brave Englishman's heart leap to see 't, But forty shippes made an escape from their fleet, 1 On Feb. 7, 1623, the Dutch settlers on the island of Amboina (Moluccas) massacred the British factors for a supposed conspiracy to turn the Dutch off the island. It appears that nothing was done in direct retaliation; it is also curious that the balladist should have in mind this historical incident, forty-two years after it happened, yet make such a muddle about Admiral Van Tromp and his son-unless, as regards the latter, the ballad was written on hearing the first news of the battle with the misstatement that Cornelius had been killed there. Whych our men pursue with muche courage and strengthe, 'Tis doubtless but we shall surprise them at lengthe. If God be our guide And stande bye our side, We shall be befriended With fayre winde and tide : If Providence prosper us with a goode gale, Prince Rupert like lightning flew through their fleete; Save one, there did falle, For Death did commande Bold Smith in the "Mary" did sheare out his way, Brave Lawson and Minn there did play both their parts, And sende they may meete The conquest compleate: God blesse all the Princes, and every thing That fyghtes for ye kingdom and prayes for ye King. ANONYMOUS. 1 This prayer was not answered-perhaps to the chagrin of the balladist, unless he also put this down to "God's will "-for De Ruiter died, in the harbour of Syracuse eleven years after this battle, from the effects of a wound he had received during an engagement with a French fleet in the Straits of Messina. |