Brave Lord Willoughbey
The fifteenth day of July,
With glistering spear and shield,
A famous fight in Flanders
Was foughten on the field:
The most courageous officers
Were English captains three;
But the bravest man in battle
Was brave lord Willoughbèy.
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 fourteen thousand then,
Upon 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 calliver125 men,
Do you prove true to me,
I’ll be the foremost man in fight,
Says brave lord Willoughbèy.
And then the bloody enemy
They fiercely did assail,
And fought it out most furiously,
Not doubting to prevail:
The wounded men on both sides fell
Most piteous for to see,
Yet nothing could the courage quell
Of brave lord Willoughbèy.
For seven hours to all men’s view
This fight endured sore,
Until our men so feeble grew,
That they could fight no more;
And then upon dead horses
Full savourly they ate,
And drank the puddle water,
They could no better get.
When they had fed so freely,
They kneeled on the ground,
And praised God devoutly
For the favour they had found;
And beating up their colours,
The fight they did renew,
And turning tow’rds the Spaniard,
A thousand more they slew.
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 pursued courageously,
And caught their forces quite;
But at last they gave a shout,
Which echoed through the sky,
God, and St. George for England!
The conquerors 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 soldiers 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 dismayed:
If that we be but one to ten,
We will not be afraid
To fight with foreign enemies,
And set our nation free.
And thus I end the bloody bout
Of brave lord Willoughbèy.
Footnotes
124 Peregrine Bertie, Lord Willoughbey of Eresby, died 1601.
125 A kind of gun.