THE REVENGE A BALLAD OF THE FLEET, 1591 ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON At Flores in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay, And a pinnace, like a flutter'd bird, came flying from far away: Then spake Sir Richard Grenville: "I know you are no coward; I should count myself the coward if I left them, my Lord Howard, So Lord Howard passed away with five ships of war that day, Men of Bideford in Devon, And we laid them on the ballast down below; For we brought them all aboard, 5 10 15 And they blessed him in their pain, that they were not left to Spain, 20 To the thumbscrew and the stake, for the glory of the Lord. He had only a hundred seamen to work the ship and to fight, And he sail'd away from Flores till the Spaniard came in sight, Good Sir Richard, tell us now, There'll be little of us left by the time this sun be set." And Sir Richard said again: "We be all good English men. 30 Let us bang these dogs of Seville, the children of the devil, For I never turn'd my back upon Don or devil yet." Sir Richard spoke, and he laugh'd, and we roared a hurrah, and so The little Revenge ran on sheer into the heart of the foe, With her hundred fighters on deck, and her ninety sick below; 35 For half of their fleet to the right and half to the left were seen, And the little Revenge ran on thro' the long sea-lane between. Thousands of their soldiers look'd down from their decks and laugh'd, Thousands of their seamen made mock at the mad little craft 40 By their mountain-like San Philip that, of fifteen hundred tons, And up-shadowing high above us with her yawning tiers of guns, Took the breath from our sails, and we stay'd. And while now the great San Philip hung above us like a cloud Whence the thunderbolt will fall 45 Long and loud, Four galleons drew away From the Spanish fleet that day, And two upon the larboard and two upon the starboard lay, 50 But anon the great San Philip, she bethought herself and went, Having that within her womb that had left her ill-content; And the rest they came aboard us, and they fought us hand to hand, For a dozen times they came with their pikes and musketeers, And a dozen times we shook 'em off as a dog that shakes his ears 55 When he leaps from the water to the land. And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer sea, But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three. Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built galleons came, Ship after ship, the whole night long, with her battle-thunder and flame; Ship after ship, the whole night long, drew back with her dead and 60 her shame. For some were sunk and many were shatter'd, and so could fight us no more God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before? For he said, "Fight on! fight on!" Tho' his vessel was all but a wreck; And it chanced that, when half of the short summer night was gone, 65 And the night went down, and the sun smiled out far over the 70 summer sea, And the Spanish fleet with broken sides lay round us all in a ring; But they dared not touch us again, for they fear'd that we still could sting, So they watch'd what the end would be. And we had not fought them in vain, But in perilous plight were we, Seeing forty of our poor hundred were slain, And half of the rest of us maim'd for life In the crash of the cannonades and the desperate strife; And the sick men down in the hold were most of them stark and cold, And the pikes were all broken or bent, and the powder was all 80 of it spent; And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side; But Sir Richard cried in his English pride, "We have fought such a fight for a day and a night As may never be fought again! We have won great glory, my men! And a day less or more At sea or ashore, 85 Sink me the ship, Master Gunner-sink her, split her in twain! And the gunner said, "Ay, ay," but the seamen made reply: "We have children, we have wives, And the Lord hath spared our lives. We will make the Spaniard promise, if we yield, to let us go; And the stately Spanish men to their flagship bore him then, Where they laid him by the mast, old Sir Richard caught at last, And they praised him to his face with their courtly foreign grace; But he rose upon their decks, and he cried: "I have fought for Queen and Faith like a valiant man and true; I have only done my duty as a man is bound to do: With a joyful spirit I, Sir Richard Grenville, die!" And he fell upon their decks, and he died. 90 95 100 And they stared at the dead that had been so valiant and true, 105 That he dared her with one little ship and his English few; 110 |