The Sailors Account
OF THE
ACTION at VIGO.
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MUse will have her Song; hark! she merrily
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sings,
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The Praise of a Queen that has beaten two Kings:
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Of Ormond and Rook too, and how they fell on,
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And flat as a Flounder laid Monsieur and Don.
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Bright Eugene and Marlbrough shou'd live in our Rime,
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And other brave Heroes too, had we but time:
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But Heroes excuse us, for now Muse and I go,
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To raise to the Stars the Dead-doers at VIGO.
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You Monsieurs and Dons, if with Losses you meet,
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Yet don't be discourag'd, we'll pay off your Fleet.
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Cries a Hawk from the Wing, the Eagle-ey'd Hardy,
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Game! game! Royal Game! we shall take 'em all tardy:
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In VIGO they ride, Men of War, Galleons,
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The Might of the Monsieurs and Pride of the Dons:
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Lead on, great Commander, sink, burn, take the Plate;
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'Twill all be our own, if we don't come too late.
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We'll brisk up old England with Fame & with Plunder;
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We'll win 't tho' we Charge thoro' Lightning & Thunder.
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You Monsieurs and Dons, if with Losses you meet,
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Yet don't be discourag'd, we'll pay off your Fleet.
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Sir George sends the News to the stout Hogen Mogen,
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Then Squadrons we join without any Proroging:
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Soon VIGO we make, where a Deodand Cloak,
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A Cloke sent from Heaven, wraps us and our Oak.
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Unseen we consult, and resolve to break in,
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But not with First Rates, least the Brine be too thin:
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On the Thirds high in View, are the First Rate
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Commanders,
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This Rums the brisk Seamen, & Brandys the Landers:
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You Monsieurs and Dons, if with Losses you meet,
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Yet don't be discourag'd, we'll pay off your Fleet.
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My dear Baladina, let's stop and take Breath;
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One Glass, and no more then; for Halting is Death.
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Here's a Health to the Queen. I'll pledg't.
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One had said,
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Sir, speech up your Men, that they mayn't be afraid.
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Afraid? And a Speech? says a Sailor there by,
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Sir, you slander the Fleet, and your Country bely.
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Let Cowards be Speecht, that Spur is here vain;
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The English need rather the Curb and the Rein.
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You Monsieurs and Dons, if with Losses you meet,
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Yet don't be discourag'd, we'll pay off your Fleet.
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The Second PART.
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GReat Ormond first Lands with his Jolly Marines,
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Men fit to serve ANNA the greatest of Queens:
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In Order they march, two Thousand in all,
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All handsom Young Men, all Lusty and tall.
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Of the Dons and their Guns they do but make sport,
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Defy their whole Army, and Ravish their Fort:
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They had blockt up their Port with Mast, Cable and
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Chain,
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But Hobson soon taught 'em twas Labour in Vain.
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You Monsieurs and Dons, if with Losses you meet,
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Yet don't be discourag'd, we'll pay off your Fleet.
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Your Boom is now cut, and your Fort is now taken,
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And now, Rogues, where are you? Now where is
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your Bacon?
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Your Shatereno, we shall make him to skip;
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But, scorning to yield her, he burns his tall Ship:
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'Twas a Forest alone, 'twas a new Rising SUN,
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But alas! this must set, as the former had done.
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Surviving Confounders against us still roar,
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Excuse 'em this once and they'll do so no more.
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You Monsieurs and Dons, tho' with Losses you meet,
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Yet don't be dismay'd, we have paid off your Fleet.
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Now, after Work, Wages, we'll laugh and relate,
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O, what a rich Cordial is Plunder and Plate!
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Both Monsieurs and Dons had been many Moons Rig-
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ging,
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And thousands of Hands many Years had been Dig-
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ging:
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But (O, 'tis to them a sad Tale to be told!)
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For Us 'twas they rigg'd, and digg'd Silver and Gold.
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The Dreadful now quake, and the poor Galleons
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Surrender rich Cargo to Tars and Dragoons.
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But what is't to us if with Losses they meet?
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If we had their Money, we paid off their Fleet.
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O, Britain, be thankful for such a good Queen!
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The like since Great El'zabeth never was seen:
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Be thankful for Statesmen, who don't Rob and starve
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Us;
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For Sea and Land Worthies, that Fight to Preserve
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Us:
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Be thankful for Ormond, the Churchills, and Rook;
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But yet, let me tell you, GOD never will Brook
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Your Cursing and Swearing, your Lying & Cheating;
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These Winds are contrary, they'll hinder Defeating.
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Let Lewis repent too; For what can he gain,
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Who Looses his Soul for the Kingdoms of Spain.
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