¶ The cruel assault of Gods Fort.  
By Edward the sixth, of England king,  
A Fort was made gods truth to shield  
In whose life time/ by good ruling,  
Both friend and so to it did yield.  
But when for sin of his own flock,  
The Lord in wrath took him away:  
Leaving the Fort to his next stock/  
The enemies than sought out their prey.  
Then blew up trumpets of Papists sound  
Soldiers to call/ and wages gave:  
Come who so would/ was armed round,  
None they refused, but dressed them brave.  
The field was pytcht of Papists part,  
With corned caps, tippets, and gowns.  
Their ordnance lay ready in cart,  
To beat the fort of god's truth down.  
The general Gardner/ brave and stone  
And Captain Boner, marched forth amain,  
Bourne with standard, cried out,  
All arm/ all arm, our shavelings train.  
The Ancient which that Bourne bore/  
Were fierce wolves teeth, with blood besprent  
Fire and Faggot, which did declare,  
Their ravenous hearts to Christians meant.  
Then doctor Martin, as clerk of army  
With Doctor Story, the master Gonner:  
These two in office, were as trusty,  
As Gardner, Bourne/ or bishop Bonner.  
A cry was made, throughout the host:  
With fire and hemp, all to destroy:  
Where ever they were, in all the cost,  
That did the Pope's power seek to noye.  
The Fort thus sieged on every side,  
With cry so fierce, to kill them all:  
●●●te for fear durst not abide,  
But from God's Fort to them did fall.  
Then might ye hear the Canons roar/  
Which Bourne and Watson falsely shot:  
Yield, yield these cried, from heretics lore  
Or batter we shall/ both wall and fort.  
No/ no (quoth they within the Fort)  
We yield us not Gods truth to stain:  
Though you destroy us in this sort/  
God shall our Fort/ with force maintain.  
With that they all the Fort within/  
With sighs and sobs to God out cried:  
Thou Lord of hosts, way not our sin,  
But aid thy flock so woe betide.  
For though with sum, we caused this day  
That our good king thou shouldst thus take:  
Yet Lord with bitterness of soul we pray,  
Strength us against this fiery lake.  
This done they blowde a cheerful blast,  
Unto the soldiers in the Fort:  
Arm ye/ arm ye, in all the haste,  
Our enemies now to Fort resort.  
The Ancient which was spread on wall,  
Had a white Lamb, with red spots thick:  
And in gold letters were these words all,  
Why do ye saul's, against me kick?  
Forth came Rogers, Hooper & Sanders  
Upon the walls the Fort to fiend:  
We yield not (said they) to such destroyers,  
But fight we will unto the end.  
To these Steven Gardner, gave onset,  
And laid on load, as wolf on prey:  
He took them prisoners, with his false net/  
And sent them to the fire straightway.  
Then Story the master of the shot/  
On Papists rampire brave and proud:  
For spilling blood he cared not,  
Assault/ assault he cried aloud.  
These were no sooner of the wall,  
But up leapt Rydley and Latimer:  
To rescue Gods fort, so near to fall.  
And did with force, the foes encounter.  
And bishop Cranmer/ though with guile,  
The enemies stole him from the Fort:  
Yet boldly fought with them a while,  
And followed his mates, in like sort.  
Then doctor Weston, at these out shot,  
The pellets of Rome, and them did maim:  
So that away they passed not,  
But were destroyed with fire and flame.  
But Bradford then on wall up leapt,  
And Philpot eke by him did stand:  
Cardmaker and Tailor also up crept,  
And these by truth did neytheyr band.  
Bishop Boner, on these laid hand,  
And to Smithfield sent them in haste:  
But to the death/ these did withstand,  
And would not yield to enemies blast.  
Then blewe the Papists to assault,  
And set a watch about the Fort:  
Of knights and yeomen to find some fault/  
To make them yield after this sort.  
And sworn men in every cost,  
They did compel to watch and spy:  
If any did resist their host/  
They must present them for to die.  
The Fort with enemies laid round about,  
And all the captains so cruelly slain:  
The soldiers thereof with courage stout,  
Kept yet the walls with might and main.  
Now scale the walls (quoth Boner then)  
Behold the captains we have slain:  
Ransack the Fort/ destroy all men/  
Both women & children let none remain,  
Then scaling lathers were up reared,  
And john Auales on them with targe:  
His knees had crosses because he feared,  
The steps would break and hang him large  
Up came Beard, by Vales his man/  
Armed all round as drunkards use:  
His head was closed, with goodale can/  
And in his hand a Taverners cruse.  
But they in Fort/ did with them play/  
And cast them bribes, which made them yield,  
They striving who should have the prey,  
Fought one with other in their own field.  
Yet battered was this Fort full sore/  
With vehement shot on Papists part:  
The walls they bet still more and more/  
But yet the fortmen would not start.  
Then pushed the Papists with their pikes,  
The Hargabusses shot out amain:  
And dyms the air and many strikes/  
Of them that did the Fort sustain.  
The Holberts and the Bowmen eke,  
Came pressing toward the Fort with speed:  
These were the rakehells that did seek,  
To have men's goods played cain's deed.  
There might ye see the Fort about.  
Great streams of blood & bodies slain.  
The hands of all the host throughout,  
With blood of Saints they did them stain.  
In this assault the infants out cried,  
And eke their mothers as widows left,  
To see their friends before them died/  
And all their goods from them bereft.  
Though thus the Fort, was almost gone,  
By cruel assault of enemies bold:  
Yet some within the Fort alone,  
To God did cry/ Lord keep thy hold.  
Then God did send his slave Death down  
Into the Papists host among:  
Which slew the chiefest in all the town/  
And greatest captains in the throng.  
By this great stroke of mighty jove,  
The vehement force of Papists fell:  
And sent this Fort (which is his Love)  
A godly captain to keep it well.  
Which when in Fort she did appear/  
And flag of truce spread in her hand:  
Aloud she cried, cease now your ire/  
And yield to me right heir of England:  
Then scattered were the Papists host/  
Their flags of fire to ground did fall.  
Their flaming brands which oft they tossed,  
Were clean out quench at our queens call.  
Cry was then made to God on high/  
Of all the soldiers in the Fort:  
Oh praise the Lord for victory,  
In helping us after this sort.  
Now yield (they cried) our brethren dear,  
Which have against God's truth so stood:  
Behold our Queen doth proffer here,  
To grant ye peace to change your mood.  
Which if her clemency you refuse/  
And plead not for your lives grant:  
The law of arms she must needs use/  
On such as are to her repugnant.  
Yield, yield therefore ye chief captains  
Example give to all your host:  
Or else will God revenge with pains/  
The blood of those whom ye have roast.  
And all ye Christians of this England/  
Your trumpet's sound to God's high praise,  
On God's head set a bay garland/  
For your triumph of all these frays.  
Yield now your lives after such sort,  
As God may not this Fort so plague.  
Strength now yourselves in this gods fort  
That ye yield no more to enemies rage.  
So God will spare us our Queen long,  
So God will make our land increase:  
So God will build our fort so strong,  
That no enemies dare to it press.  
To this say all right Christian men,  
God save our Queen. Amen. Amen.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. ● I. A.   

¶ Imprinted at London by john Awdeley, dwelling by great S. Bartelmew's beyond Aldersgate.