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A SONG ON THE DUKE'S LATE GLORIOUS
SUCCESS OVER THE DUTCH.
From a broadside in the possession of Mr. Rimbault. It was evidently written soon after a most obstinate engagement, which took place in Southwold Bay, on the 20th May, 1672, between the combined fleets of England and France on the one side, and that of the Dutch on the other.-E. F. R.
ONE day, as I was sitting still,
Upon the side of Dunwich-hill,
By chance I saw De Ruyter's fleet
In sooth it was a noble treat
I cannot stay to name the names
Of all the ships that fought with James,
But this I say, the noble host
And covered all the hollow coast
The French, who should have join'd the Duke,
Full far astern did lag and look, Although their hulls were lighter;
But nobly faced the Duke of York,
Right stoutly did his vessel stalk,
Well might you hear their guns, I guess,
From Sizewell-gap to Easton Ness,
They batter'd without let or stay
"Twas then the Dutchmen run away, The Duke had beat them tightly.
Of all the battles gain’d at sea,
This was the rarest victory
I will not name the rebel Blake,
And yet was forced three days to take,
So now we've seen them take to flight,
This way, and that, where'er they might,
Here's to King Charles, and here's to James,
And here's to all the Suffolk dames,
THE ENGLISHMEN'S VICTORY OVER THE
RELATING HOW FIVE ENGLISH FRIGATES, VIZ. THE HENRY,
RUBY, ANTELOPE, GREYHOUND, AND BRYAN, BURNT ALL THE SPANISH SHIPS IN THEIR HARBOUR, AT MALAGO: BATTERED DOWN THEIR CHURCHES AND THEIR HOUSES ABOUT THEIR EARS, KUL'D ABUNDANCE OF THEIR MEN, AND OBTAINED AN HONOURABLE VICTORY.
Whereever English seamen goes
They are a terror to their foes. To the tune of Five sail of frigats bound for Malago, &c. [From the British Museum Collection of Old Ballads.]
Come all you brave sailors
that sails on the main, I'll tell you of a fight
that was lately in Spain,
bound to Malago,
our orders was so.
There was the Henry and Ruby,
and the Antelope also,
for fire-ships must go ;
and played our parts,
to quake in their hearts.
Then we came to an anchor
so nigh to the mould, Methinks you proud English do
grow very bold: But we came to an anchor
so near to the town, That some of their churches
we soon battered down.
They hung out their flag of truce,
for to know our intent, And they sent out their long-boat,
to know what we meant : But our captain he answered
them bravely, it is so, For to burn all your shipping
before we do go.
For to burn all your shipping
you must us excuse, 'Tis not five sail of frigats
shall make us to muse. But we burnt all their shipping,
and their gallies also, And we left in the city
full many a widow.
Come, then says our captain,
let's fire at the church; And down came their belfrey,
which grieved them much;
And down came the steeple,
which standeth so high, Which made the proud Spaniards
to the nunnery flye.
So great a confusion
we made in the town, That their lofty buildings
came tumbling down : Their wives and their children
for help they did cry, But none could relieve them,
though danger was nigh.
The flames and the smoak,
so increased their woe, That they knew not whither
to run nor to go; Some to shun the fire,
leapt into the flood, And there they did perish
in water and mud.
Our guns we kept firing,
still shooting amain, Whilst many a proud Spaniard
was on the place slain : The rest being amazed, for succour did
cry, But all was in vain,
they had no where to flye.