Britannia victrix, or, The triumphs of the Royal Navy in the late victorious ingagement with the French fleet May, 1692 : a pindarick poem.

Britannia victrix, or, The triumphs of the Royal Navy in the late victorious ingagement with the French fleet May, 1692 : a pindarick poem.

Table of contents

Title page

Britannia Victrix:

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Britannia Victrix:

I.

FOrbear a while, my dearest Friend, forbear,

With more glad Tidings to regale my ear,

Least crouding Tales of new Success,

Which to my Thoughts so fast their Welcome press,

Should even the Pleasure of the Mind destroy,

And my Soul sink beneath the mighty Joy;

Gently, and by degrees relate,

The Gallick-Fleet's Inglorious Fate,

But let not from thy Lab'ring Tongue,

So very quick the welcome Accents Throng,

Tho sweet are all the Tidings of thy Breath,

I would not be with Roses prest to Death,

Some Gall in all our Pleasures Fate Distills,

And Joy wound up too high, too often Kills:

So when Diagoras of Old,

Whose three brave Sons had won immortal Fame,

By Prizes in th' Olympick Game,

Was by themselves of their good Fortune told,

When they their Garlands humbly laid

Upon their Aged Father's Head,

With such excess of Joy his Blood was Fir'd,

That in their Arms the Good Old Man Expir'd.

[Page]

II.

But yet if ever an excess of Joy,

Might be allow'd to be no Crime,

It must be surely at this time,

A Victory so bravely won,

And with such Vigour carried on,

That Neptune did in a full Councel own,

Since he the Oceans Government had known,

He never saw such manly Courage shown,

As did the English when they Fought;

And wonder'd by what Magick Spell,

Which on the Hearts of Frenchmen fell,

They should in such confusion run,

And would have Sail'd as quick as Wind and Thought.

For scarcely was th' Ingagement o're,

But his Blew Tritans from the Shore,

Took up the Wrecks from tatter'd Ships did fall,

Which they in memory of the Day,

Of the auspicious Conqu'ring MAY,

Hung up as Trophies in their Masters watr'y Hall.

III.

Auspicious Month indeed, from whence we may,

Of our new Happiness the Aera Date,

Since all the Storms, which did of late

So threaten us, are now blown quite away.

See a most pleasing Scene appears,

Of Rolling, Smiling, Peaceful Years;

When free from War and its Alarms,

Each shall his Property Possess,

Under the shade of Welcome Peace,

Fearless of Forreign and Domestick Harms;

For when, (as Poets feign,) Adromeda,

Chain'd to a Rock, stood still expos'd

To each Sea-Monster's hungry Jaws;

So, but of late Fair Albion lay,

Till Victory, like Perseus came,

To Rescue the Afflicted Dame,

Chas'd the grim Tyrants of the Sea,

In narrow Creeks to be inclos'd,

And to the Brittish Ocean gave new Laws

[Page]

IV.

Poets in this, as well as Painters share,

That what they would attempt to do, they dare,

But what kind Muse will now my Breast Inspire,

With Waller's Rapture, or with Denham's Fire,

Those Noble Bards did in immortal Verse,

Some late Sea Fights so movingly Rehearse

Each line with such new Spirit did they write,

Readers in fancy might behold the Fight,

As plain as if with Tellescopes they stood

On shore, and each minutest Action view'd,

Of warm Ingagements on the Purple Flood.

Come then my Muse, and furl thy Fancy's Sail,

And on the streams of Helicon,

Launch out with a successful Gale.

But ah, if in the bold Attempt,

(As who from chance can be exempt?)

Thou shouldst in spite of thy Endeavours fail,

'Twill yet of thee, as once of Phaeton

Be said, altho he was undone

In guiding Chariot of the Sun,

Yet for the bare attempt some praise he Won.

V.

Behold, with mighty Pleasure, Muse, behold,

Those floating Castles of the Sea,

Impregnable to Guns and Gold;

Observe the Royal Navy how she Glides,

And Cuts the Silver Froth of yeilding Tides,

In proud Procession how they go,

To meet the Lurking and Absconding Foe;

For several Leagues they spread their Canvas Wings,

A goodly sight which mighty pleasure brings,

With more Majestick Pride they Sail,

Than the Venetian Fleet by Bucentoro Led,

When with her mighty Duke she goes

In pomp the Adriatick Sea to Wed,

See how they Tide it with a merry Gale,

While from each Deck is heard the Voice

Of the loud Trumpets Martial noise,

[Page]A sound which Cowards can inspire,

And in the coldest Breast strike sparks of Fire;

Hark how the Tritons on the Rocks which dwell,

With pleasure hear the Warlike sign,

And each one winds his Concave shell,

To make the Harmony still more Divine.

VI.

On Quarter Deck (the Post of Honour) stands,

The Hero who the Ship Commands,

With manly Terror on his Brow,

To his Ships Crew he seems to show,

That Danger is a word he does not know:

Nor come the Sailors far behind,

Tho moving in a lower Sphere,

Each has a Brave and Noble Mind,

And scorns to name or think of Fear;

If one on Board they thought there was,

Who hid a Coward in his Breast,

Quite Over-board they'd throw the Ass,

Least he should prove Infectious to the rest;

With long Delays they all impatient grow,

And only wish to meet the skulking Foe.

VII.

A Sail, a Sail,—I have a Fleet in ken,

From Top mast Head is heard,—a welcome sound,

Which Ecchos all the Navy round,

And with new Souls inspires the Men,

Each to his Post in Order Runs,

As chearfully to tend the Guns,

As Shepherd e're at dawn of Day did creep,

O're Verdant Lawns to tend his gentle Sheep.

The Line of Battle Form'd, each ready stands

To wait his Admirals Commands

When he shall Fire, and when to Vere and Turn,

When to break through, and resolutely Burn;

And tho a wild Confusion seems to Reign,

On a Ships Deck when Battles near;

Yet one may plainly see that ev'ry Man,

As little of Disorder knows, as Fear,

[Page]With spreading Sails they see the threatning Foe

Approach; which they as gladly meet,

As e're did Bridegroom on his Wedding Night,

Th' Embraces of the Blushing Fair,

And wish to feel the first Provoking Blow.

VIII.

And now begins the warm Dispute,

Throwing from sides of Oaken Walls,

Their Death Denouncing Iron Balls,

Each other Mortally Salute;

See how the shot their Sails and Riging tears,

While Splinters thick as Hail,

More Mischief do than Cannon-Ball.

Now a Broad side a Ships Deck almost Clears,

For Bullets no Distinction know

Between an Admiral and a Common Tar,

But both promiscuously Bow,

When it comes whisting through the Air;

Down to the shades the Dead in clusters go,

While on the Deck the Wounded lye,

And in good earnest wish to Dye,

Since Life is grown a Burthen now;

Now Fate and Death their publick Revels keep,

And leave the Land a while, to Frolick in the Deep.

IX.

The Goddess Victory at Distance stood,

And saw the Contest on the Purple Flood,

(Now Purple grown indeed, with human Blood)

At last with mighty haste her Course she bore,

And with her Silver Wings our Navy shaddow'd o're,

Whilst all the Fleet with Joy the Omen View'd,

And for her Welcome, loud Discharges Roar;

And tho but just before,

The French with brav'ry kept the Watry Feild,

Since them does wisht Success forsake,

Their Cannons now as faint as Eccho's speak;

Their Petards Languish, their Guns are weak,

And all Dispirited prepare to Run or Yeild.

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X.

But whither, whither, O ye rigid Stars,

For safety shall the Gallik Fleet retire

To disappoint 'em, since the Winds conspire;

Homewards their Course they cannot steer,

And no kind Hospitable Harbour's near;

No Turkish Bay, nor Creek of Algerine,

Can on the Brittish Seas be seen;

Their Brethren of the Turbant would

In their Distress have helpt them if they could,

But ah, no Turkish Port their Navy can secure,

The Dardanells are far from Cape Barfleur.

XI.

Barfleur, a Word vvhich after ages shall

To mind vvith grateful Memory recal,

And lessen much the Fam'd Report

Of Bullogne Seige, Poicteurs, and Argencourt,

Places where bravely our Forefathers Fought,

And home their Conquering Lawrels brought,

By much Barfleur their Glory does out-vy,

Where we obtain'd a greater Victory,

Those Battles formerly we won,

Perhaps might shake the Gallick Throne;

But the Convulsion soon was o're,

This has done infinitely more,

For novv Determin'd is the Fate of France,

Its Ruin fixt, its Doom is Seal'd

Which has for Ages been conceal'd,

And all its hopes of Universal Monarchy,

Now Languish in a dull Expiring Trance.

XII.

Their hasty Flight my Muse does novv Descry,

Like Parthians shooting vvhile they run,

Casting a fearful look behind,

Whilst every loud Discharging Gun,

Does only bruise the Air and crush the Wind;

Like trembling Hares upon a plain they fly,

Double, Redouble and all Courses try

A vvretched Life to save,

They foam vvith Anger and vvith fury Rave.

[Page]They foam with Anger, and with Fury rave,

In haste they run, and we in haste pursue,

Cutting with nimble Keels the Silver Wave;

And tho they swift as Lightning flew,

Our Fleet as fast could Sail, since Winds and Waves conspire,

To further ours, and frustrate their Desire.

XIII.

Too weak alass, are all Attempts of Verse,

Great RUSSELL's Glory to rehearse;

Nor can the nicest Studied Praise,

Sufficient Trophies to his Vertue Raise,

A Work deserving Eame and Bays.

RVSSELL a Name, which after times shall Bless,

When they in Chronicles shall Read,

His mighty Actions and his great Success:

And what against the Gallick Fleet he did;

Born to revenge his Noble Kinsman's Blood;

Lord Russel▪

Who to French Councils fell a Sacrifice,

But he has bravely sluc'd a flood,

Of purple Gore, for ev'ry precious Drop of his.

XIV.

Tho the Illustrious House of Bedford claims,

A share of Glory with the first,

Of all the English Nobles Names;

And can as many Trophies show,

Upon her Antient Arms and Crest,

As any Warlike Hero's who were Born,

Their Name and Country to adorn.

Yet Envy must it self allow,

Tho dazling Beams of Light her Orb does fill,

That by the Admiral of the Name,

(Darling of Victory and Fame)

She shines with greater, brighter Lustre still;

And sure it is a happiness,

Which few great Families does bless,

But theirs, to whom the mighty Luck does fall,

To have produc'd a Martyr and an Admiral.

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XV.

If Subjects we with Soveraigns may compare,

(Tho' we the mighty Difference must allow)

With his Victorious Prince does Russell share

In all the Hardships and Fatigues of War,

If Heavenly Bodies, as the Learned hold,

Insencibles do move affairs below,

Who without wonder can behold,

A Noble General dispence,

Through a vast Camp his warning Influence,

Whilest every Warlike Soldiers Limb,

Seems but to be a part of him.

Just so at Sea, the Sailers one and all,

Each Morning bless their much Lord Admiral;

To doubt of wisht Success whet Mortal can,

When too such Heroes do the Cause maintain,

Nassaw at Land, and Russel on the Main.

XVI.

Hard Fate of Generals in War,

Who scarce doe Nature's common Blessings share,

When our brave Admiral all day,

In Fire and Smoke maintain'd the fray,

One would have thought that Balmy Sleep at night,

Should his tir'd Sences to repose invite,

But still his Manly Cares deny

Rest to his Thoughts, or Slumber to his Eye;

But yet behold! to recompence

The Burthen of his weary Sence,

A Night-piece, Victory prepares,

To please his Eyes, and gratifie hi [...] Ears.

Three Ships at distance, like three Meteors show,

Drest all in Flames from poop to prow,

By Gun-Powder's unlucky Blow,

Whilst the poor Mortals did inhabit there,

By Destinies too rigid Frown,

Are doom'd at once to Burn and Drown,

Thrown up like Rockets in the Air,

Then down again into the Deep with wild Despair.

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XVII.

For little Service little Praise is due,

But if the Thoughts Reverse we view,

What store of Lawrels will not fall,

Upon the Brows of conqu'ring Delavall;

For when by winds and Brittish Fury chas'd,

To Cape de Wyke the French for shelter got,

And on that little watry spot,

Esteem'd themselves secure, and danger past,

Then the Vice Admiral of the Red,

Came with his Squadron well prepar'd,

To do whatever Courage dar'd.

They saw the Skulking Ships in Corners lie,

As if to move they were afraid;

And since the Tide admittance does deny;

To Ships of Burthen they prepar'd,

With Boats well Man'd, and Fire-ships to declare

Defiance to the Enemy:

See, see, the wish'd desir'd Success,

Which does their bold endeavour bless.

Behold, the flames from Gallick Decks, which rise

To Victory, a Grateful Sacrifice,

Whilst Rigid Fate all Succours still denies.

XVIII.

Behold the Glory of their Fleet,

The Royal-Sun now all on flame,

A most unlook'd for Exit meet,

While with impatience the gay Gilded Dame.

Views the Incroachments of the Fire,

Upon her Gallant rich Attire:

She does with passion rave, with anger weep,

And as she downward goes,

Her Hissing Curses throws;

Then sinks a Hundred Fathom in the deep,

The Heavenly Sun, when he has run his Race

About the Globe, yet every welcome Night,

Plunges in Thetis watrey soft embrace,

Next Morning rising with new Rays of Light,

But the French Sun, once darling of their Eyes,

Is set, and never never more will rise;

[Page]So vain, short liv'd, and Transitory,

Are all the Pomps and Shows of humane Glory.

XIX.

If he who burnt Diana's Temple, stands,

Recorded in the Book of Fame,

(The bold Attempt of an inglorious Slave,

That was a Villains Act, but this a brave)

Can be to Heath denyed a Glorious Name,

Who dar'd to set the Royal Sun on Flame;

The Conquerant a noble Vessel made,

From Head to Stern, a heap of burning Brands,

With Fury see the Boats invade;

The Admirable, who although she makes

Some faint resistance of the others Fate partakes;

Fowlis his Ship, deserv'd a better Fate,

(The bold may be unfortunate)

For in the hottest of the Fight,

When Clouds of Smoak made Artificial Night,

He slackned not a Joynt, nor shrank a Nerve,

And though denied his wish'd Success,

Yet to his Praise this Truth we must confess,

Bravely to dare is bravely to deserve.

XX.

Can nothing scape discerning RUSSELL's Eye,

Who sure has got a Writ from Destiny,

The Gallick Fleet to overturn,

To Admiral Rook he Order gives,

In Cape le Hogue, their Ships to burn,

Who the Commission joyfully Receives,

And boldly Ventures on the Enterprize,

Six over night in flames expire,

And Morrows Dawn six more observes on fire,

Whilst English do with pleasure see

This Sea Burnt-Offering made to Victory,

A Grateful Morning, and an Evenings Sacrifice;

But still to make the Vict'ry more compleat,

With their own Guns the Enemy we beat;

From their Mud Plat-forms, now by Fates Decree,

Successess grown, both by the Land and Sea.

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XXI.

Tell me who can, my labouring Muse

Ashby's and Shovel's Praise refuse;

Rais'd by a Prince, who best their Merits knew,

Who found them always brave, and always true:

To Honour's Temple we may truly say,

Desert now only leads the way,

And not as heretofore,

When Interest, Bribes, and blind unthinking chance

Did thousands more then Worth advance,

And th' greatest share in Court Preferments bore,

Cautious in Council, they prepare

For all the worst events in War:

But when the wish'd for Minute does invite,

And the loud Cannon calls to fight,

Fearless of Danger on their Decks they stood,

Ready to Sacrifiee their Blood,

For the best Cause, and their dear Countrys good.

XXII.

Who without Sorrow, and a kind Regret,

Can think of Daring Carter's Fate?

Or when he hears how valiant Hastings dy'd,

Refuse the Tribute of a Tear,

Fate ev'n in Death would not their loves divide,

Who to each other were in Life so dear,

The Verdant Lawrels heretofore,

Which they upon their Temples wore;

Now since their Deaths appear more fresh and green,

And their brave actions, which before

The World in Whispers only car'd to Name,

Is now become the welcome Talk of Fame,

Who to the World their Daring Acts will tell,

While Sighs and Tears ring out their Funeral Knell.

XXII.

Nor must the Common Seamen want their Praise,

Who more than common Bravery show'd,

And by undaunted Courage did express

The Love which their Countries cause they ow'd:

For one and all they firmly stood,

Each free from Cowardise or Fear,

To Random Shots expos'd his Bosom bare;

Like Wall of Brass, and not of Flesh and Blood;

[Page]And tho' the boysterous Seas,

Their proper Element for fighting is;

Yet when near Coast of Normandy they drew,

And had the Army then in view,

Impatient of Delays they all implore,

To try their fortune on the shoar;

For flush'd with late success they did not doubt

To give the Enemy a total rout,

But their Commander wisely check'd their Rage,

Not suff'ring them so rashly to ingage,

Tho' late Defeats did more Defeats presage.

XXIV.

Heark in loud Consort how the Trumpets joyn,

A grateful sound to hear,

Which does to ev'ry listning Ear,

The welcome News of Vict'ry bear;

News truly Charming and Divine,

Which may with Songs supply the Mighty Nine,

Whilst Fame with strong and active Lungs,

Borrows a Thousand Thousand Tongues,

On Albions happy shores to tell,

How a French Fleet esteem'd invincible,

To Brittish Rage, a Grateful Victim fell.

XXV.

Hail! Welcome News, with treble welcome Hail,

No little Infant e're was seen,

The Milk from Breast more greedily to suck in,

Than we with pleasure catch thy wond'rous tale,

Suspence that torture of the Mind,

Long had our Thoughts in doubts dark Cave confin'd,

Yet hope the gay Fore-runner of Success,

With gladsom smiles would often bless

Our Anxious Souls until at last,

We did the Luscious Banquet taste,

Who the exalted pleasure can express,

When Tidings of a Victory,

Confirm'd▪ by all convincing certainty,

From dark Suspicious did our Souls Release;

The Joys, bless'd Souls unbodied feel,

Tho' far above our pow'r to tell,

Yet we in part their Mighty Transports guess;

By lively Mirth which still controuls,

[Page]And keeps her Revels in our Souls,

So great, that words cannot its Love express.

XXVI.

The thinking States-man, when the News he hears,

How e're his Thought may be employ'd,

In projects for his Countries good,

Now lays aside the weight of publick cares,

And with a Mind unbent, prepares

To share the common Joy, since now

In Mirth to Revel, Stoicks would allow,

The Plodding Man of Business too,

Smooths up the wrinckles of his Brow,

Puts on a chearful look, and seems to say,

His Mind shall now keep Holy-day;

The Rustick leaves this weary Plough,

And on a Lovely Verdant Green,

Are Tytirus and Phillis seen,

Dancing with other Nymphs and Swains,

Forgetting all their Amorous pains,

They trip it o're the Lawns, & frisk upon the Plains.

All Men from high to low degree,

Are fill'd with Mirth and Jollity,

And Albion enjoys an Universal Jubilee.

XXVII.

Amidst the Publick Triumphs, yet appear

Some Angry Looks, and Clouded Brows,

Faces, which Melancholy wear,

And who the wond'rous Riddle knows,

That Discontent should have a Seat,

So near, where all the Sons of Joy are met:

Wonder no more, but pity rather

This envious Crooking Murmuring Brood,

With Hopes uneertain as the Weather,

Foes to their own, and to the Publick good:

But let the Brave and Loyal Heart,

Insensible of Envy's smart;

For Mighty Joy allow a mighty Scope,

And still for more and more Successes hope.

XXVIII.

But must the mighty Joy be known,

To Albion's happy Land alone?

No, No, Industrious Fame takes care,

[Page]To spread the Tidings far and near,

Which does, as diff'rent Intrest guides,

Their Souls with different Passions fill,

And first, with winged speed she glides,

To great Nassaw, the News to tell,

Whom Heav'n indulgently does bless

In all his actions with a wisht Success;

The welcome News he soon Communicates,

To's Princely Allies and Confederates;

Who knowing that the Fortune of their Arms,

Depend upon the Fate of his:

Bless the kind Omen which alarms,

With Pannick fear, th' Insulting Foe,

Who with a strange Amazement hear

Their ill Success, in Naval War,

Dreading by Land another Fatal Blow.

XXIX.

Go on, Great Prince, till thy great Actions swell

So very high, that even Fame

Shall think't a Talk almost impossible,

To after Ages half thy Acts to tell,

But ah! what spot of Earth is there;

Upon this lower Globes Terrestrial Sphere,

Which has not heard thy Glorious Name?

Thou hast a Thousand Actions done,

Which will for ever make thee known,

Whilst Princes, who by diff'rent arts have try'd

To purchase Lasting Fame, have been deny'd,

And as inglorious liv'd, ingloriously have dy'd.

XXX.

But whilst abroad he seeks Renown by Arms,

Can we at home forget Maria's Charms?

Who while her Royal Consort shares

The long Fatigue of Forreign Wars,

Employs her most Industrious Cares;

For Albion's safety too too happy Isle,

While on thy Banks such Constelations smile.

But oh how bright will be the Sphere,

When after all the longer fatigues,

Of War and Stratagems close Intrigues:

WILLIAM and MARY shall thro' Europe be

Esteem'd the Arbiters of Peace and Liberty.

FINIS.

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§

§

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Britannia Victrix: OR, THE TRIUMPHS OF THE ROYAL NAVY, In the late Victorious Ingagement with the FRENCH FLEET MAY, 1692.

A Pindarick POEM.

—Domitosque Herculea manu

Telluris Juvenes, unde Periculum

Fulgens contremuit Domus

Saturnis Veteri.—

Hor. lib▪ 2. Ode 12.

LONDON, Printed for R. Taylor near Stationers-Hall, 1692.

Information about this book

Title statement

Britannia victrix, or, The triumphs of the Royal Navy in the late victorious ingagement with the French fleet May, 1692 : a pindarick poem.

Ames, Richard, d. 1693.

Edition statement

1692

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Text Creation Partnership,

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Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2005-12 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A25257

ID [STC]

Wing A2975A

ID [STC]

ESTC R40281

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

18809112

ID [OCLC]

ocm 18809112

ID [VID]

108370

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A25257)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 108370)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1663:2)

Source

— Britannia victrix, or, The triumphs of the Royal Navy in the late victorious ingagement with the French fleet May, 1692 : a pindarick poem., Ames, Richard, d. 1693..

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[2], 14 p.

Printed for R. Taylor ...,. London :: 1692.. (Attributed to Ames by Wing and NUC pre-1956 imprints.) (Reproduction of original in the Harvard University Library.)

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