Name: Spanish Maidens
Duration: 1 min 48 s
Channel: Traditional
Description: "Spanish Maidens" is a song by Bartholomew Klick. Tune to an English sea chantey written to insult Spaniards. Not to be confused with an Irish Traditional Melody of the same name, which I will be posting up in a few days.

Spanish Maidens

Bartholomew Klick

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Tune to an English sea chantey written to insult Spaniards. Not to be confused with an Irish Traditional Melody of the same name, which I will be posting up in a few days.

bartholomew pennywhistle

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Bartholomew Klick

Military Songs, Outlaw Songs, Bar Songs and Sea Shanteys.

I play woodwinds; Recorder, Pennywhistle and Fife. I'm saving up for a low whistle. I am completely self taught and I ussually play by ear, though I can read sheet music if I feel like it. I'm actually looking for a band to join, so if any of you hear something you like, feel free to contact me.

Song Info

Genre

World • World General

Charts

#3,404 in subgenre Peak #59

Charts

Peak #196

Author

Traditional

Rights

2005 - Bartholomew Klick

Uploaded

April 12, 2006

Track Files

MP3

MP3 1.7 MB • 128 kbps • 1:48

Story behind the song

This is actually my own version of a traditional sea chantey written by english sailors sometime after the defeat of the Spanish Armada in the 1400's.  The arrangement is my own; specifically the embellishments and the ending round. 

For more information on the traditional tune which this is derived from, take a look at the contemplators wonderful page on it at:

http://www.contemplator.com/sea/sladies.html

Lyrics

Farewell and adieu to you, Spanish Ladies,
Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain;
For we've received orders for to sail for ole England,
But we hope in a short time to see you again.
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt sea.
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England;
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty five leagues.

We hove our ship to with the wind from sou'west, boys
We hove our ship to, deep soundings to take;
'Twas forty-five fathoms, with a white sandy bottom,
So we squared our main yard and up channel did make.
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt sea.
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England;
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty five leagues.

The first land we sighted was called the Dodman,
Next Rame Head off Plymouth, off Portsmouth the Wight;
We sailed by Beachy, by Fairlight and Dover,
And then we bore up for the South Foreland light.
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt sea.
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England;
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty five leagues.

Then the signal was made for the grand fleet to anchor,
And all in the Downs that night for to lie;
Let go your shank painter, let go your cat stopper!
Haul up your clewgarnets, let tacks and sheets fly!
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt sea.
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England;
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty five leagues.

Now let ev'ry man drink off his full bumper,
And let ev'ry man drink off his full glass;
We'll drink and be jolly and drown melancholy,
And here's to the health of each true-hearted lass.
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt sea.
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England;
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty five leagues.