Reliques of Ancient English Poetry

But art thou a woman, as thou dost declare, Whose valor hath proved so undaunted in warre?

If England doth yield such brave lasses as thee,

Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary | Full well may they conquer, faire Mary

Ambree?

Her foes they besett her on everye side, As thinking close siege shee cold never abide;

To beate down the walles they all did decree :

But stoutlye deffyd them brave Mary Ambree.

Then tooke shee her sword and her targett in hand,

And mounting the walls all undaunted did stand,

There daring their captaines to match any three:

O what a brave captaine was Mary Ambree!

Ambree.

The prince of Great Parma heard of her

renowne

Who long had advanced for Englands

faire crowne;

Hee wooed her and sued her his mistress to bee,

And offerd rich presents to Mary Ambree."

But this virtuous mayden despised them all,

Ile nere sell my honour for purple nor pall:

A mayden of England, sir, never will bee The fere of a monarcke, quoth Mary Ambree.

PEREGRINE BERTIE, Lord Willoughby of Eresby, had, in the year 1586, distinguished himself at the siege of Zutphen, in the Low Countries. He was the year after made general of the English forces in the United Provinces, in the room of the Earl of Leicester, who was recalled. This gave him an opportunity for signalizing his courage and military skill in several actions against the Spaniards. One of these, greatly exaggerated by popular report, is probably the subject of this old ballad, which, on account of its flattering encomiums on English valour, hath always been a favourite with the people.

Lord Willoughby died in 1601. Both Norris and Turner were famous among the military men of that age.

The sharp steel-pointed arrows,
And bullets thick did fly;
Then did our valiant soldiers

Charge on most furiously;
Which made the Spaniards waver,
They thought it best to flee,
They fear'd the stout behaviour
Of brave lord Willoughbèy.

Then quoth the Spanish general,

Come let us march away,

I fear we shall be spoiled all

If here we longer stay;
For yonder comes lord Willoughbey
With courage fierce and fell,
He will not give one inch of way
For all the devils in hell.

And then the fearful enemy
Was quickly put to flight,
Our men persued couragiously,
And caught their forces quite;
But at last they gave a shout,

Which ecchoed through the sky, God, and St. George for England! The conquerers did cry.

This news was brought to England
With all the speed might be,
And soon our gracious queen was told
Of this same victory.

O this is brave lord Willoughbey,

My love that ever won, Of all the lords of honour

'Tis he great deeds hath done.

To the souldiers that were maimed,
And wounded in the fray,
The queen allowed a pension
Of fifteen pence a day;
And from all costs and charges

She quit and set them free:
And this she did all for the sake
Of brave lord Willoughbèy.

Then courage, noble Englishmen,
And never be dismaid;

If that we be but one to ten,
We will not be afraid
To fight with foraign enemies,
And set our nation free.
And thus I end the bloody bout
Of brave lord Willoughbèy.

XXI.--VICTORIOUS MEN OF EARTH

THIS little moral sonnet hath such a pointed application to the heroes of the foregoing and following ballads, that I cannot help placing it here, though the date of its composition is of a much later period. It is extracted from Cupid and Death, a masque, by J. S. [James Shirley], presented March 26, 1653. London, printed 1653, 4to.

VICTORIOUS men of earth, no more

Proclaim how wide your empires are ; Though you binde in every shore, And your triumphs reach as far

As night or day;

Yet you proud monarchs must obey, And mingle with forgotten ashes, when Death calls yee to the croud of common

men.

Devouring famine, plague, and war,

Each able to undo mankind,
Death's servile emissaries are:

Nor to these alone confin'd,
He hath at will

More quaint and subtle wayes to kill; A smile or kiss, as he will use the art, Shall have the cunning skill to break a heart.

XXII. THE WINNING OF CALES.

THE subject of this ballad is the taking of the city of Cadiz (called by our sailors corruptly Cales) on June 21, 1596, in a descent made on the coast of Spain, under the command of the Lord Howard, admiral, and the Earl of Essex, general.

The valour of Essex was not more distinguished on this occasion than his generosity: the town was carried sword in hand, but he stopped the slaughter as soon as possible, and treated his prisoners with the greatest humanity, and even affability and kindness. The English made a rich plunder in the city, but missed of a much richer, by the resolution which the Duke of Medina, the Spanish admiral, took, of setting fire to the ships, in order to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy. It was computed that the loss which the Spaniards sustained from this enterprise amounted to twenty millions of ducats. See Hume's History.

The Earl of Essex knighted on this occasion not fewer than sixty persons, which gave rise to the following sarcasm :

"A gentleman of Wales, a knight of Cales,

And a laird of the north country;
But a yeoman of Kent with his yearly rent
Will buy them out all three.'

Most

The ballad is printed, with some corrections, from the Editor's folio MS., and seems to have been composed by some person who was concerned in the expedition. of the circumstances related in it will be found supported by history.

Where the kinges navy securelye did ryde;

To the seas presentlye went our lord Being upon their backs, piercing their

The beacons were fyred, as need then required;

To hyde their great treasure they had little space.

Dub a dub, etc.

Wee marched in presentlye, decking the walls on hye,

With English colours which purchased

renowne.

Dub a dub, etc.

There you might see their ships, how they Entering the houses then, of the most

were fyred fast,

And how their men drowned themselves

in the sea;

richest men,

For gold and treasure we searched eche day;

There might you hear them cry, wayle In some places wè did find, pyes baking

and weep piteously,

When they saw no shift to scape thence

away.

Dub a dub, etc.

The great St. Phillip, the pryde of the Spaniards,

Was burnt to the bottom, and sunk in

the sea;

But the St. Andrew, and eke the St. Matthew,

Wee took in fight manfullye and brought away.

Dub a dub, etc.

The Earl of Essex most valiant and hardye, With horsemen and footmen marched

up to the town;

The Spanyards, which saw them, were greatly alarmed,

Did fly for their savegard, and durst

not come down. Dub a dub, etc.

Now, quoth the noble Earl, courage my soldiers all,

Fight and be valiant, the spoil 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, thinking it vain to fight,

Hung upp flags of truce and yielded

the towne ;

left behind,

Meate at fire rosting, and folkes run

away.

Dub a dub, etc.

Full of rich merchandize, every shop catched our eyes,

Damasks and sattens and velvets full fayre ;

Which soldiers measur'd out by the length of their swords;

Of all commodities eche had a share.
Dub a dub, etc.

Thus Cales was taken, and our brave general

March'd to the market-place, where he

did stand:

There many prisoners fell to our several shares,

Many crav'd mercye, and mercye they fannd.

Dub a dub, etc.

When our brave General saw they delayed all,

And wold not ransome their towne as they said,

With their fair wanscots, their presses and bedsteds,

Their joint-stools and tables a fire we made;

And when the town burned all in flame,

With tara, tantara, away wee all

came.

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Reliques of Ancient English Poetry: Consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, Etc