XIX.

MARY AMBREE.

In the year 1584, the Spaniards, under the command of Alexander Farnese, prince of Parma, began to gain great advantages in Flanders and Brabant, by recovering many strong holds and cities from the Hollanders, as Ghent, (called then by the English _Gaunt_,) Antwerp, Mechlin, &c. See Stow's _Annals_, p. 711. Some attempt made with the assistance of English volunteers to retrieve the former of those places probably gave occasion to this ballad. I can find no mention of our heroine in history, but the following rhymes rendered her famous among our poets. Ben Jonson often mentions her, and calls any remarkable virago by her name. See his _Epic[oe]ne_, first acted in 1609, act iv. sc. 2. His _Tale of a Tub_, act i. sc. 2. And his masque intitled the _Fortunate Isles_, 1626, where he quotes the very words of the ballad,

----"_Mary Ambree_, (Who marched so free To the siege of Gaunt, And death could not daunt, As the ballad doth vaunt) Were a braver wight, &c."

She is also mentioned in Fletcher's _Scornful Lady_, act v. _sub finem_.

----"My large gentlewoman, my _Mary Ambree_, had I but seen into you, you should have had another bed-fellow."----

It is likewise evident, that she is the virago intended by Butler in _Hudibras_ (p. i. c. iii. v. 365), by her being coupled with _Joan d'Arc_, the celebrated _Pucelle d'Orleans_.

"A bold virago stout and tall As _Joan_ of France, or English _Mall_."

This ballad is printed from a black letter copy in the Pepys Collection, improved from the Editor's folio MS. and by conjecture. The full title is, _The valorous acts performed at Gaunt by the brave bonnie lass Mary Ambree, who in revenge of her lovers death did play her part most gallantly_. The tune is, _The blind beggar, &c._

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[The copy from the MS., which is printed at the end, will be found to differ considerably from the following version.]

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When captain's couragious, whom death cold not daunte, Did march to the siege of the citty of Gaunt, They mustred their souldiers by two and by three, And the formost in battle was Mary Ambree.

When brave Sir John Major[671] was slaine in her sight, 5 Who was her true lover, her joy, and delight, Because he was slaine most treacherouslie, Then vowd to revenge him Mary Ambree.

She clothed herselfe from the top to the toe In buffe of the bravest, most seemelye to showe; 10 A faire shirt of male[672] then slipped on shee; Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?

A helmett of proofe shee strait did provide, A strong arminge sword shee girt by her side, On her hand a goodly faire gauntlett put shee; 15 Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree?

Then tooke shee her sworde and her targett in hand, Bidding all such, as wold, bee of her band; To wayte on her person came thousand and three: Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree? 20

My soldiers, she saith, soe valiant and bold, Nowe followe your captaine, whom you doe beholde; Still foremost in battel myselfe will I bee: Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

Then cryed out her souldiers, and loude they did say, 25 Soe well thou becomest this gallant array, Thy harte and thy weapons soe well do agree, There was none ever like Mary Ambree.

Shee cheared her souldiers, that foughten for life, With ancyent and standard, with drum and with fyfe, 30 With brave clanging trumpetts, that sounded so free; Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

Before I will see the worst of you all To come into danger of death, or of thrall, This hand and this life I will venture so free: 35 Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

Shee led upp her souldiers in battaile array, Gainst three times theyr number by breake of the daye; Seven howers in skirmish continued shee: Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree? 40

She filled the skyes with the smoke of her shott, And her enemyes bodyes with bullets soe hott; For one of her owne men a score killed shee: Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

And when her false gunner, to spoyle her intent, 45 Away all her pellets and powder had sent, Straight with her keen weapon shee slasht him in three: Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

Being falselye betrayed for lucre of hyre, At length she was forced to make a retyre; 50 Then her souldiers into a strong castle drew shee: Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

Her foes they besett her on everye side, As thinking close siege shee cold never abide; To beate down the walles they all did decree: 55 But stoutlye deffyd them brave Mary Ambree.

Then tooke shee her sword and her targett in hand, And mounting the walls all undaunted did stand, There daring their captaines to match any three: O what a brave captaine was Mary Ambree! 60

Now saye, English captaine, what woldest thou give To ransome thy selfe, which else must not live? Come yield thy selfe quicklye, or slaine thou must bee. Then smiled sweetlye brave Mary Ambree.

Ye captaines couragious, of valour so bold, 65 Whom thinke you before you now you doe behold? A knight, sir, of England, and captaine soe free, Who shortelye with us a prisoner must bee.

No captaine of England; behold in your sight Two brests in my bosome, and therfore no knight: 70 Noe knight, sirs, of England, nor captaine you see, But a poor simple lass, called Mary Ambree.

But art thou a woman, as thou dost declare, Whose valor hath provd so undaunted in warre? If England doth yield such brave lasses as thee, 75 Full well may they conquer, faire Mary Ambree.

The prince of Great Parma heard of her renowne, Who long had advanced for Englands faire crowne; Hee wooed her and sued her his mistress to bee, And offerd rich presents to Mary Ambree. 80

But this virtuous mayden despised them all, Ile nere sell my honour for purple nor pall: A mayden of England, sir, never will bee The whore of a monarcke, quoth Mary Ambree.

Then to her owne country shee backe did returne, 85 Still holding the foes of faire England in scorne: Therfore English captaines of every degree Sing forth the brave valours of Mary Ambree.

[Illustration]

[The following version is reprinted from Hales and Furnivall's edition of the folio MS. vol. i. p. 516.

Captaine couragious, whome death cold daunte, beseeged the Citye brauelye, the citty of Gaunt! they mustered their soliders by 2 & by 3: & the fformost in Battele was Mary Aumbree! 4

When braue Sir Iohn Maior was slaine in that fight, that was her true louer, her Ioy & delight, shee swore his death vnreuenged shold not bee; was not this a braue, bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 8

The death of her trueloue shee meant to requite with fire & ffamine [&] sword shining bright, which lately was slaine most villanouslye; was not this a braue, bonnye Lasse, Mary Aumbree? 12

Shee cladd her selfe from the top to the toe in buffe of the brauest most seemlye to show, & a faire shirt of Male slipped on shee; was not this a braue, bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 16

A helmett of proofe shee tooke on her head, & a strong arminge sword shee wore by her side; a goodly fayre gauntlett on her hand put shee; was not this a braue, bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 20

Shee tooke her sword & her targett in hand, bidding all such as wold, wayte on her band. to waite on her person there came 1000^{ds} 3: was not this a braue, bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 24

"My soldiers," shee saith, "soe valiant and bold, now ffollow your Captain which you doe beholde; in the fight formost my selfe will I bee!" was not this a braue, bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 28

Then cryed out her souldiers, & loude thé did say, "soe well thou becomes this gallant array, thy hands & thy weapons doe well soe agree, there was neuer none like to Mary Aumbree!" 32

Shee cheared her good souldiers that foughten for life, with the cominge of Ancyents, with drum & with fife, that braue sonding trumpetts with ingines soe free, att last thé made mention of Mary Aumbree. 36

"Before that I doe see the worst of you all come in the danger of your enemyes thrall, this hand & this sword shall first sett him free;" was not this a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 40

Shee forward went on in Battaile array, & straight shee did make her foes flye away; 7 houres in sckirmish continued shee; was not this a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 44

The skyes shee did fill with the smoke of her shott, in her enemies bodyes with bulletts soe hott; for one of her owne men, a sckore killed shee; was not this a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 48

Then did her gunner spoyle her intent, pelletts & powder away had he sent: then with her sword shee cutt him in 3, was not this a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 52

Then was shee caused to make a retyre, being falsely betrayd, as itt doth appeare; then to saue her selfe into a castle went shee; was not this a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 56

Her foes thé besett her on euerye side, thinking in that castle shee wold not abyde; to beate downe those walls they all did agree; was not that a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 60

She tooke her sword & her targett in hand, shee came to the walls, and vpon them did stand, their daring their Captaine to match any 3, was not that a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 64

"Thou English Captain, what woldest thou giue to ransome thy liffe which else must not liue? come downe quickly, & yeeld thee to mee!" then smiled sweetlye Mary Aumbree; 68

"Good gentle Captain, what thinke you by mee, or whom in my likenesse you take mee to bee?" "a knight, sir, of England, & Captain soe free, that I meane to take away prisoner with me." 72

"Good gentle Captain, behold in your sight 2 brests in my bosome, & therfore no knight; noe knight, Sir, of England, nor Captain soe free, but eue[n]e a pore bony Lasse, Mary Aumbree." 76

"If thou beest a woman as thou dost declare, that hast mangled our soliders, & made them soe bare; the like in my liffe I neuer did see; therfore Ile honor thee, Mary Aumbree." 80

"Giue I be a woman, as well thou doest see, Captain, thou gettst noe redemption of mee without thou wilt fight with blowes 2 or 3." was not this a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 84

God send in warrs, such euent I abide, god send such a solider to stand by my side! then safely preserued my person wilbe; there was neuer none like to Mary Aumbree!] 88

FOOTNOTES:

[671] So MS. _Serjeant Major_ in _PC._

[672] A peculiar kind of armour, composed of small rings of iron, and worn under the cloaths. It is mentioned by Spencer, who speaks of the Irish Gallowglass or Foot-soldier as "armed in a long Shirt of Mayl." (_View of the State of Ireland._)