Jamie quelled the proud foe on the ocean, And rode the sole conqueror over the main; To this gallant hero let all pay devotion, For England her admiral sees him again.

Ballad: The Unfortunate Whigs

1682. - From the Roxburgh Ballads.

To the tune of "The King enjoys his own," &c.

The Whigs are but small, and of no good race, And are beloved by very few; Old TONY broach'd his tap in every place, To encourage all his factious crew.

At some great houses in this town, The Whigs of high renown, And all with a true blue was their stain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony WILL NE'R ENJOY HIS OWN, AGAIN.

They all owne duty to their lawful prince, And loyal subjects should have been; But their duty is worn out long since, By the a.s.sOCIATION seen.

But these are the Whigs, That have cut off some legs, And fain would be at that sport amain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony WILL NE'R ENJOY HIS OWN AGAIN.

And yet they are sham-pretenders, And they swear they'll support our laws; These be the great defenders of IGNORAMUS and the OLD CAUSE: They'll defend the King By swearing of the thing, These are the cursed rogues in grain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony WILL NE'R ENJOY HIS OWN AGAIN.

The true religion that shall down, Which so long has won the day, And COMMON-PRAYER i'th' church of ev'ry town, If that the Whigs could but bear the sway: For Oates he does begin Now for to bring them in, As when he came mumping from Spain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony WILL NE'R ENJOY HIS OWN AGAIN.

How all their shamming plots they would hide, Yet they are ignorant, they say, When as Old TONY he was try'd And brought off with IGNORAMUS sway: When Oates he was dumb And could not use his tongue, This is the shamming rogues in grain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony WILL NE'R ENJOY HIS OWN AGAIN.

Then let all true subjects sing, And d.a.m.n the power of all those That won't show loyalty to their King, And a.s.sist him against his Whiggish foes.

Then in this our happy state, In spight of traytors' hate, We will all loyal still remain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony WILL NE'R ENJOY HIS OWN AGAIN.

G.o.d preserve our gracious King, With the Royal Consort of his bed, And let all loyal subjects sing That the crown may remain on Charles's head; For we will drink his health In spight of COMMON-WEALTH, And his lawful rights we will maintain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony WILL NE'R ENJOY HIS OWN AGAIN.

Printed for S. Maurel, in the year 1682.

Ballad: The Downfall Of The Good Old Cause

From a "Collection of One Hundred and Eighty Loyal Songs, all written since 1678," and published London, 1694. [Fourth Edition.]

Tune, - "Hey, Boys, up go we."

Now the Bad Old Cause is tapt, And the vessel standeth stoop'd; The cooper may starve for want of work, For the cask shall never be hoop'd; - We will burn the a.s.sociation, The Covenant and vow, The public cheat of the nation, Anthony, now, now, now

No fanatick shall bear the sway In court, city, or town, These good kingdoms to betray, And cry the right line down; - Let them cry they love the King, Yet if they hate his brother, Remember Charles they murdered, And so they would the other.

Weavers and such like fellows In pulpit daily prate, Like the Covenanters, Against the Church and State: Yet they cry they love the King, But their baseness will discover; Charles the First they murdered, And so they would the other.

When these fellows go to drink, In city or in town, They vilify the bishops And they cry the Stuarts down: Still they cry they love the King, But their baseness I'll discover; Charles the First they murdered, And so they would the other.

When the King wanted money, Poor Tangier to relieve, They cry'd down his revenue, Not a penny they would give: Still they cry'd they loved the King, But their baseness I'll discover; Charles the First they murdered, And so they would the other.

The n.o.ble Marquis of Worcester, And many such brave lord, By the King-killing crew They daily are abhor'd, And called evil councellors, When the truth they did discover; And Charles the First they murdered, And so they would the other.

The Papists they would kill the King, But the Phanaticks did; Their perjuries and treacheries Aren't to be parallel'd: Let them cry they love the King, Their faults I will discover; Charles the First they murdered, And so they would the other.

Charles the Second stands on's guard, Like a good politick King; The Phanaticks ought to be abhor'd For all their flattering: Let them cry they love the King, Their faults I will discover; Charles the First they murdered, And so they would the other.

Now let us all good subjects be, That bear a loyal heart; Stand fast for the King And each man act his part; And to support his Sovereign, Religion, and the laws, That formerly were established, And down with the cursed cause.

Ballad: Old Jemmy

From a "Collection of 180 Loyal Songs," written since 1678. This is a parody on the Whig song, "Young Jemmy is a lad that's royally descended," written in celebration of the Duke of Monmouth. Old Jemmy is the Duke of York, afterwards James II.

To the tune of "Young Jemmy."

Old Jemmy is a lad Right lawfully descended; No b.a.s.t.a.r.d born nor bred, Nor for a Whig suspended; The true and lawful heir to th' crown By right of birth and laws, And bravely will maintain his own In spight of all his foes.

Old Jemmy is the top And chief among the princes; No MOBILE gay fop, With Birmingham pretences; A heart and soul so wondrous great, And such a conquering eye, That every loyal lad fears not In Jemmy's cause to die.

Old Jemmy is a prince Of n.o.ble resolutions, Whose powerful influence Can order our confusions; But oh! he fights with such a grace No force can him withstand, No G.o.d of war but must give place When Jemmy leads the van.

To Jemmy every swain Does pay due veneration, And Scotland does maintain His t.i.tle to the nation; The pride of all the court he stands, The patron of his cause, The joy and hope of all his friends, And terror of his foes.

Maliciously they vote To work Old Jemmy's ruin, And zealously promote A Bill for his undoing; Both Lords and Commons most agree To pull his Highness down, But (spight of all their policy) Old Jemmy's heir to th' crown.

The schismatick and saint, The Baptist and the Atheist, Swear by the Covenant, Old Jemmy is a Papist: Whilst all the holy crew did plot To pull his Highness down, Great Albany, a n.o.ble Scot Did raise unto a crown.

Great Albany, they swear, He before any other Shall be immediate heir Unto his royal brother; Who will, in spight of all his foes, His lawful rights maintain, And all the fops that interpose Old Jemmy's York again.

The Whigs and zealots plot To banish him the nation, But the renowned Scot Hath wrought his restoration: With high respects they treat his Grace, His royal cause maintain; Brave Albany (to Scotland's praise) Is mighty York again.

Against his envious fates The Kirk hath taught a lesson, A blessing on the States, To settle the succession; They real were, both knight and lord, And will his right maintain, By royal Parliament restored, Old Jemmy's come again.

And now he's come again, In spight of all Pretenders; Great Albany shall reign, Amongst the Faith's defenders.

Let Whig and Birmingham repine, They show their teeth in vain, The glory of the British line, Old Jemmy's come again.

Ballad: The Cloak's Knavery