ANONYMOUS
The fifteenth day of July,With glistering spear and shield,A famous fight in FlandersWas foughten in the field:The most conspicuous officersWere English captains three,But the bravest man in battelWas brave Lord Willoughby.The next was Captain Norris,A valiant man was he:The other, Captain Turner,From field would never flee.With fifteen hundred fighting men,Alas! there were no more,They fought with forty thousand thenUpon the bloody shore.‘Stand to it, noble pikemen,And look you round about:And shoot you right, you bowmen,And we will keep them out:You musket and cailìver men,Do you prove true to me,I’ll be the bravest man in fight,’Says brave Lord Willoughby.And then the bloody enemyThey fiercely did assail,And fought it out most valiantlyNot doubting to prevail:The wounded men on both sides fellMost piteous for to see,Yet nothing could the courage quellOf brave Lord Willoughby.For seven hours to all men’s viewThis fight endurèd sore,Until our men so feeble grewThat they could fight no more;And then upon dead horsesFull savourly they eat,And drank the puddle water,They could no better get.When they had fed so freely,They kneelèd on the ground,And praisèd God devoutlyFor the favour they had found;And bearing up their colours,The fight they did renew,And cutting tow’rds the Spaniard,Five thousand more they slew.The sharp steel-pointed arrowsAnd bullets thick did fly,Then did our valiant soldiersCharge on most furiously:Which made the Spaniards waver,They thought it best to flee:They feared the stout behaviourOf brave Lord Willoughby.Then quoth the Spanish general,‘Come let us march away,I fear we shall be spoilèd allIf that we longer stay:For yonder comes Lord WilloughbyWith courage fierce and fell,He will not give one inch of groundFor all the devils in hell.’And when the fearful enemyWas quickly put to flight,Our men pursued courageouslyTo rout his forces quite;And at last they gave a shoutWhich echoed through the sky:‘God and Saint George for England!’The conquerors did cry.This news was brought to EnglandWith all the speed might be,And soon our gracious Queen was toldOf this same victory.‘O! this is brave Lord WilloughbyMy love that ever won:Of all the lords of honour’Tis he great deeds hath done!’To the soldiers that were maimèd,And wounded in the fray,The Queen allowed a pensionOf eighteen pence a day,And from all costs and chargesShe quit and set them free;And this she did all for the sakeOf brave Lord Willoughby.Then courage, noble Englishmen,And never be dismayed!If that we be but one to ten,We will not be afraidTo fight with foreign enemies,And set our country free,And thus I end the bloody boutOf brave Lord Willoughby.Anonymous.
The fifteenth day of July,With glistering spear and shield,A famous fight in FlandersWas foughten in the field:The most conspicuous officersWere English captains three,But the bravest man in battelWas brave Lord Willoughby.The next was Captain Norris,A valiant man was he:The other, Captain Turner,From field would never flee.With fifteen hundred fighting men,Alas! there were no more,They fought with forty thousand thenUpon the bloody shore.‘Stand to it, noble pikemen,And look you round about:And shoot you right, you bowmen,And we will keep them out:You musket and cailìver men,Do you prove true to me,I’ll be the bravest man in fight,’Says brave Lord Willoughby.And then the bloody enemyThey fiercely did assail,And fought it out most valiantlyNot doubting to prevail:The wounded men on both sides fellMost piteous for to see,Yet nothing could the courage quellOf brave Lord Willoughby.For seven hours to all men’s viewThis fight endurèd sore,Until our men so feeble grewThat they could fight no more;And then upon dead horsesFull savourly they eat,And drank the puddle water,They could no better get.When they had fed so freely,They kneelèd on the ground,And praisèd God devoutlyFor the favour they had found;And bearing up their colours,The fight they did renew,And cutting tow’rds the Spaniard,Five thousand more they slew.The sharp steel-pointed arrowsAnd bullets thick did fly,Then did our valiant soldiersCharge on most furiously:Which made the Spaniards waver,They thought it best to flee:They feared the stout behaviourOf brave Lord Willoughby.Then quoth the Spanish general,‘Come let us march away,I fear we shall be spoilèd allIf that we longer stay:For yonder comes Lord WilloughbyWith courage fierce and fell,He will not give one inch of groundFor all the devils in hell.’And when the fearful enemyWas quickly put to flight,Our men pursued courageouslyTo rout his forces quite;And at last they gave a shoutWhich echoed through the sky:‘God and Saint George for England!’The conquerors did cry.This news was brought to EnglandWith all the speed might be,And soon our gracious Queen was toldOf this same victory.‘O! this is brave Lord WilloughbyMy love that ever won:Of all the lords of honour’Tis he great deeds hath done!’To the soldiers that were maimèd,And wounded in the fray,The Queen allowed a pensionOf eighteen pence a day,And from all costs and chargesShe quit and set them free;And this she did all for the sakeOf brave Lord Willoughby.Then courage, noble Englishmen,And never be dismayed!If that we be but one to ten,We will not be afraidTo fight with foreign enemies,And set our country free,And thus I end the bloody boutOf brave Lord Willoughby.Anonymous.
The fifteenth day of July,With glistering spear and shield,A famous fight in FlandersWas foughten in the field:The most conspicuous officersWere English captains three,But the bravest man in battelWas brave Lord Willoughby.
The next was Captain Norris,A valiant man was he:The other, Captain Turner,From field would never flee.With fifteen hundred fighting men,Alas! there were no more,They fought with forty thousand thenUpon the bloody shore.
‘Stand to it, noble pikemen,And look you round about:And shoot you right, you bowmen,And we will keep them out:You musket and cailìver men,Do you prove true to me,I’ll be the bravest man in fight,’Says brave Lord Willoughby.
And then the bloody enemyThey fiercely did assail,And fought it out most valiantlyNot doubting to prevail:The wounded men on both sides fellMost piteous for to see,Yet nothing could the courage quellOf brave Lord Willoughby.
For seven hours to all men’s viewThis fight endurèd sore,Until our men so feeble grewThat they could fight no more;And then upon dead horsesFull savourly they eat,And drank the puddle water,They could no better get.
When they had fed so freely,They kneelèd on the ground,And praisèd God devoutlyFor the favour they had found;And bearing up their colours,The fight they did renew,And cutting tow’rds the Spaniard,Five thousand more they slew.
The sharp steel-pointed arrowsAnd bullets thick did fly,Then did our valiant soldiersCharge on most furiously:Which made the Spaniards waver,They thought it best to flee:They feared the stout behaviourOf brave Lord Willoughby.
Then quoth the Spanish general,‘Come let us march away,I fear we shall be spoilèd allIf that we longer stay:For yonder comes Lord WilloughbyWith courage fierce and fell,He will not give one inch of groundFor all the devils in hell.’
And when the fearful enemyWas quickly put to flight,Our men pursued courageouslyTo rout his forces quite;And at last they gave a shoutWhich echoed through the sky:‘God and Saint George for England!’The conquerors did cry.
This news was brought to EnglandWith all the speed might be,And soon our gracious Queen was toldOf this same victory.‘O! this is brave Lord WilloughbyMy love that ever won:Of all the lords of honour’Tis he great deeds hath done!’
To the soldiers that were maimèd,And wounded in the fray,The Queen allowed a pensionOf eighteen pence a day,And from all costs and chargesShe quit and set them free;And this she did all for the sakeOf brave Lord Willoughby.
Then courage, noble Englishmen,And never be dismayed!If that we be but one to ten,We will not be afraidTo fight with foreign enemies,And set our country free,And thus I end the bloody boutOf brave Lord Willoughby.
Anonymous.
Attend you, and give ear awhile,And you shall understandOf a battle fought upon the seasBy a ship of brave command.The fight it was so gloriousMen’s hearts it did fulfil,And it made them cry, ‘To sea, to sea,With theAngel Gabriel!’This lusty ship of Bristol,Sailed out adventurouslyAgainst the foes of England,Her strength with them to try;Well victualled, rigged, and manned she was,With good provision still,Which made them cry, ‘To sea, to sea,With theAngel Gabriel!’The Captain, famous Netherway(That was his noble name);The Master—he was called John Mines—A mariner of fame:The Gunner, Thomas Watson,A man of perfect skill:With many another valiant heartIn theAngel Gabriel.They waving up and down the seasUpon the ocean main,‘It is not long ago,’ quoth they,‘That England fought with Spain:O would the Spaniard we might meetOur stomachs to fulfil!We would play him fair a noble boutWith ourAngel Gabriel!’They had no sooner spokenBut straight appeared in sightThree lusty Spanish vesselsOf warlike trim and might;With bloody resolutionThey thought our men to spill,And vowed that they would make a prizeOf ourAngel Gabriel.Our gallant ship had in herFull forty fighting men;With twenty piece of ordnanceWe played about them then,With powder, shot, and bulletsRight well we worked our will,And hot and bloody grew the fightWith ourAngel Gabriel.Our Captain to our Master said,‘Take courage, Master bold!’Our Master to the seamen said,‘Stand fast, my hearts of gold!’Our Gunner unto all the rest,‘Brave hearts, be valiant still!Fight on, fight on in the defenceOf ourAngel Gabriel!’We gave them such a broadsideIt smote their mast asunder,And tore the bowsprit off their ship,Which made the Spaniards wonder,And causèd them in fear to cry,With voices loud and shrill,‘Help, help, or sunken we shall beBy theAngel Gabriel!’So desperately they boarded usFor all our valiant shot,Threescore of their best fighting menUpon our decks were got;And lo! at their first entrancesFull thirty did we kill,And thus with speed we cleared the deckOf ourAngel Gabriel.With that their three ships boarded usAgain with might and main,But still our noble EnglishmenCried out ‘A fig for Spain!’Though seven times they boarded usAt last we showed our skill,And made them feel what men we wereOn theAngel Gabriel.Seven hours this fight continued:So many men lay dead,With Spanish blood for fathoms roundThe sea was coloured red.Five hundred of their fighting menWe there outright did kill,And many more were hurt and maimedBy ourAngel Gabriel.Then seeing of these bloody spoils,The rest made haste away:For why, they said, it was no bootThe longer there to stay.Then they fled into Calès,Where lie they must and willFor fear lest they should meet againWith ourAngel Gabriel.We had within our English shipBut only three men slain,And five men hurt, the which I hopeWill soon be well again.At Bristol we were landed,And let us praise God still,That thus hath blest our lusty heartsAnd ourAngel Gabriel.Anonymous.
Attend you, and give ear awhile,And you shall understandOf a battle fought upon the seasBy a ship of brave command.The fight it was so gloriousMen’s hearts it did fulfil,And it made them cry, ‘To sea, to sea,With theAngel Gabriel!’This lusty ship of Bristol,Sailed out adventurouslyAgainst the foes of England,Her strength with them to try;Well victualled, rigged, and manned she was,With good provision still,Which made them cry, ‘To sea, to sea,With theAngel Gabriel!’The Captain, famous Netherway(That was his noble name);The Master—he was called John Mines—A mariner of fame:The Gunner, Thomas Watson,A man of perfect skill:With many another valiant heartIn theAngel Gabriel.They waving up and down the seasUpon the ocean main,‘It is not long ago,’ quoth they,‘That England fought with Spain:O would the Spaniard we might meetOur stomachs to fulfil!We would play him fair a noble boutWith ourAngel Gabriel!’They had no sooner spokenBut straight appeared in sightThree lusty Spanish vesselsOf warlike trim and might;With bloody resolutionThey thought our men to spill,And vowed that they would make a prizeOf ourAngel Gabriel.Our gallant ship had in herFull forty fighting men;With twenty piece of ordnanceWe played about them then,With powder, shot, and bulletsRight well we worked our will,And hot and bloody grew the fightWith ourAngel Gabriel.Our Captain to our Master said,‘Take courage, Master bold!’Our Master to the seamen said,‘Stand fast, my hearts of gold!’Our Gunner unto all the rest,‘Brave hearts, be valiant still!Fight on, fight on in the defenceOf ourAngel Gabriel!’We gave them such a broadsideIt smote their mast asunder,And tore the bowsprit off their ship,Which made the Spaniards wonder,And causèd them in fear to cry,With voices loud and shrill,‘Help, help, or sunken we shall beBy theAngel Gabriel!’So desperately they boarded usFor all our valiant shot,Threescore of their best fighting menUpon our decks were got;And lo! at their first entrancesFull thirty did we kill,And thus with speed we cleared the deckOf ourAngel Gabriel.With that their three ships boarded usAgain with might and main,But still our noble EnglishmenCried out ‘A fig for Spain!’Though seven times they boarded usAt last we showed our skill,And made them feel what men we wereOn theAngel Gabriel.Seven hours this fight continued:So many men lay dead,With Spanish blood for fathoms roundThe sea was coloured red.Five hundred of their fighting menWe there outright did kill,And many more were hurt and maimedBy ourAngel Gabriel.Then seeing of these bloody spoils,The rest made haste away:For why, they said, it was no bootThe longer there to stay.Then they fled into Calès,Where lie they must and willFor fear lest they should meet againWith ourAngel Gabriel.We had within our English shipBut only three men slain,And five men hurt, the which I hopeWill soon be well again.At Bristol we were landed,And let us praise God still,That thus hath blest our lusty heartsAnd ourAngel Gabriel.Anonymous.
Attend you, and give ear awhile,And you shall understandOf a battle fought upon the seasBy a ship of brave command.The fight it was so gloriousMen’s hearts it did fulfil,And it made them cry, ‘To sea, to sea,With theAngel Gabriel!’
This lusty ship of Bristol,Sailed out adventurouslyAgainst the foes of England,Her strength with them to try;Well victualled, rigged, and manned she was,With good provision still,Which made them cry, ‘To sea, to sea,With theAngel Gabriel!’
The Captain, famous Netherway(That was his noble name);The Master—he was called John Mines—A mariner of fame:The Gunner, Thomas Watson,A man of perfect skill:With many another valiant heartIn theAngel Gabriel.
They waving up and down the seasUpon the ocean main,‘It is not long ago,’ quoth they,‘That England fought with Spain:O would the Spaniard we might meetOur stomachs to fulfil!We would play him fair a noble boutWith ourAngel Gabriel!’
They had no sooner spokenBut straight appeared in sightThree lusty Spanish vesselsOf warlike trim and might;With bloody resolutionThey thought our men to spill,And vowed that they would make a prizeOf ourAngel Gabriel.
Our gallant ship had in herFull forty fighting men;With twenty piece of ordnanceWe played about them then,With powder, shot, and bulletsRight well we worked our will,And hot and bloody grew the fightWith ourAngel Gabriel.
Our Captain to our Master said,‘Take courage, Master bold!’Our Master to the seamen said,‘Stand fast, my hearts of gold!’Our Gunner unto all the rest,‘Brave hearts, be valiant still!Fight on, fight on in the defenceOf ourAngel Gabriel!’
We gave them such a broadsideIt smote their mast asunder,And tore the bowsprit off their ship,Which made the Spaniards wonder,And causèd them in fear to cry,With voices loud and shrill,‘Help, help, or sunken we shall beBy theAngel Gabriel!’
So desperately they boarded usFor all our valiant shot,Threescore of their best fighting menUpon our decks were got;And lo! at their first entrancesFull thirty did we kill,And thus with speed we cleared the deckOf ourAngel Gabriel.
With that their three ships boarded usAgain with might and main,But still our noble EnglishmenCried out ‘A fig for Spain!’Though seven times they boarded usAt last we showed our skill,And made them feel what men we wereOn theAngel Gabriel.
Seven hours this fight continued:So many men lay dead,With Spanish blood for fathoms roundThe sea was coloured red.Five hundred of their fighting menWe there outright did kill,And many more were hurt and maimedBy ourAngel Gabriel.
Then seeing of these bloody spoils,The rest made haste away:For why, they said, it was no bootThe longer there to stay.Then they fled into Calès,Where lie they must and willFor fear lest they should meet againWith ourAngel Gabriel.
We had within our English shipBut only three men slain,And five men hurt, the which I hopeWill soon be well again.At Bristol we were landed,And let us praise God still,That thus hath blest our lusty heartsAnd ourAngel Gabriel.
Anonymous.