THREE ELEGIES:

  • The First, to the MEMORY of Lieutenant-General Mackay.
  • The Second, to the MEMORY of My Lord Angus, Only Son of the Marquiss of Dowglas.
  • The Third, to the MEMORY of Lieut. Collonel Fullerton.

Who were all Three Slain, at the Attacque at Steenkerken near Enguin, on July 24. St. Vet. August 3. St. Nov. Anno DOM. 16 [...]2.

Written by RO. FLEMING.

EDINBURGH, Printed in the Year 1692

To the Memory of Lieutenant-General Mackay.
Who was Kill'd near Enguin, July, 14. August [...]. 1692.

Dignum Laude Virum
Musa vetat mori.—
Horat.
MAckay! what? that Great, that Noble Name,
So loudly Honour'd by the Voice of Fame?
What, Dead? no sure, he lives, and ever shall,
His Name no Grave admits, or Funeral.
Let Death ore's Ashes triumph as its Spoil,
His noble Fame's immortal as his Soul.
For even whil'st Death does his Exit boast,
It sends his Glory to each Forraign Coast.
Glory, which was the Center of his Soul,
Th, Vital Sp'rits, which through his Life did roul.
Glory, which was not a meer Itch of Blood,
Of doing things Extravagant, but Good.
A Glory, which GOD did himself inspire,
A Glory hallow'd by Religious Fire.
Thence't was, he honour'd all were Good and Brave,
Pitied meer Fools, but hated every Knave.
Thence't was, his Pulse did beat with Gen'rous Heat,
And all his Presence, all his Life was Great.
Thence't was, his Thoughts, brave Projects still did form,
Which he as bravely after did perform.
Brave were his Actions, Noble was his Aim;
And He that Nobly would declare the same,
Must form such genuine Notions in his Thought,
[Page 4] As may the Bravery shew, wherewith he Fought.
But who's alive, that hath the Art or Skill,
To Pen those Actions, which may Volumes fill.
Those Actions, which a Plutarch do require,
Or a new Virgil with Poetick Fire,
To dress this Hero in deserv'd Attire.
But though it be a Work and Task too great
For my affrighted Muse, for to narrate
The Bravery of this Bravest Man, yet she
Taught by his great Example scorns to flee;
But does resolve on the Attempt, to tell
How brave the Hero liv'd, how brave he fell.
Nature did frame him in the Womb for War,
And sent him in the very Bud afar;
To do such Actions, even whilst a Youth,
As did amaze all Hearts, and fill'd each mouth.
Let Venice tell, how bravely then he fought,
And with a Roman Courage Glory sought.
Yea, let all Europe and the World say,
If they'l but speak ingenuously, if they
Did not admire the dawning of his Day.
But those so many Actions, and so Great,
Both First and Later, here for to relate,
Do so Afright my Weak and bashfull Muse;
That She's resolv'd, but One or Two to chuse
Out of the Rest; to let the World know,
How much all Europe to this Man doth owe.
When our brave David did resolve to try,
To save whole Britain from the Grave or die;
Mackay, who Sauls Arts had long withstood,
Resolv'd, in the Attempt to spend his Blood.
And in the glorious Race did nobly start,
And in each Step, as nobly did his Part.
Of all the Hero's helpt Him to the Throne,
[Page 5] MACKAY is one of th' First, and yields to none.
Let Scotland say, what Actions there he did,
Which Spite of Envy's Clouds, cannot ly hid;
What Wisdom and what Valour he did show
In all Attacks against the Rebel Foe.
Where, had all others been as brave and true,
No need had been a Treaty to pursue
With the poor, Conquer'd, Thieving Highland-Crew.
Let Irelands Coasts sound forth his glorious Name,
And Eccho-like reverberate his Fame;
Since to none more she does her Freedom owe,
Though Envy would o'recloud what all may know.
Who was't? who at Athlone did lead the Van,
And leapt into the River the first Man?
Who with the first did scale the frightn'd Town,
And at his Feet made th' Bloody Foe fall down?
Is there a Man, to whom Red Agrim Feilds,
A fresher or a fairer Lawrel yeilds?
When he like Thunder on the Foe did Charge,
And shew'd his Might was as his Courage large:
When he the Fury of the Foe did quell,
And by his Hand, the Sons of Anak fell.
But it's too long in Verse for to declaim,
Upon so great, and so diffus'd a Theme.
Nay 'tis above th' Historians Art to shew,
In proper Colours th' Actions he did do.
Wherefore my Muse Heroick thoughts lays by,
And with faint Heart attempts his Elegy;
Draws now the Curtain of the last sad Scene,
And shews how he unto his Exit came.
Near Enguin's Fields, it was resolv'd to try
One brisk Attack upon the Enemy.
There VVirtenberg the Danes did bravely lead;
And bold Mackay march'd glorious on the Head
Of daring Scots and English, who that day,
Resolv'd to make the French for Namur pay:
[Page 6] Many together for this End were met,
At the Suns rise, who ne'er did see him set.
Brave was the Aim, and nobly was it laid,
Brave to the Issue, even though-betray'd.
Where, though too many brave men have been lost,
Th' French, whom th' Fight a double Number cost
Have little cause a Victory to boast.
Nay, if one gen'rous Spark in such remain,
They can't but praise and wonder at the Slain:
Who having broke through every Stop i'th'way,
Made the Foe dearly for their Blood to pay.
Ther't was Mackay Wonders did perform,
Roul'd through the Feilds like an impetuous Storm,
Forc'd all before him, till a fatal Ball,
Stopt his Career. At whose so sudden fall,
The Foe encourag'd venture on anew,
And with fresh Forces their Designs pursue;
Then did our Soldiers Strength begin to tyre;
Yet did such things as made the French admire:
But who needs wonder that they did Retire.
Since brave Mackay their Heart and Life was gone,
Whose Presence seem'd an Army all alone.
But since it was by Heaven thus decreed,
That he must now from all his Toyl be freed;
Let's cease to Judge what we can never find,
And prize the Example which he left behind:
For in his Soul such Qualities did dwell,
As rarely to a single Man e're fell.
He was whate're could any one commend,
Barve Soldier, Christian, Subject, Man and Friend.
Illustrissimo Heroi, Carmina haec Exequi [...]ia, Debita Musa. Exaravit, Cecinit, Posuit,
R. F.

To the Memory of My LORD Angus, Only Son of The MARQUISS of Dowglas,
Who was slain near Enguin, July 24. S. Vet. 1692.

Ostendunt Terris hunc tantum sata nec ultra
Esse sinunt—
Virg.
WHat? Angus dead! Let's stop and say no more;
But with sad Sighs, and briny Tears, deplore
The Common Loss: the Stroak is far too great
For Words to tell, or Lines for to relate.
But, what! Shall Silence then his Name o'recloud,
As undistinguish'd from the Common Croud?
Shall we with Death, as Stupid, Sympathize,
Which ev'n a Tomb his dear Remains denyes?
Or shall no other Elegy be made
To shew his worth, but barely this; He's Dead?
No, no; my Muse this Treachery doth scorn
To see a Youth so Brave, so Nobly Born,
In dark Oblivion have his Name to Rust,
As if his Fame were Mortal as his Dust.
No; we'll in this Deaths Project Countermine,
And Consecrate these Verses for his Shrine.
Let then the World know how it is bereft
Of such a glorious Flower, as Death has left
Scarce such another standing on the Stage;
A Flower, the glory of this Dwarfy Age.
[Page 8] One, who with such a Radiant Lustre shone
In thefirst Budding, as if fully grown.
Who, though a Youth, did to such Virtue rise,
As few, ev'n in this Noon do e'er comprise.
He was all Beauty; Lovely, Noble, Brave,
Were the Perfections, which him Nature gave:
And as his Birth and his Descent was high,
So Glory was the Object of his Eye.
Mean things he scorned, was in all things Great:
His Life did shew his Soul was Virtue's Seat.
Sure, never Youth more Nobly did begin
All Hearts and Honours Prize at once to win.
His Morning-Sun did rise without a Cloud;
But soon his Skie grew black with Thunder loud.
Sweet Bud! soon blossom'd, and soon nip'd with cold;
Yet worthy for to have thy Name inroll'd
I'th'list of thy Great Ancestors, whose names
Fame loudly yet to all the World proclaims.
Justly, alas! the Dowglasses bemoan
Their state, since all their hopes with thee are gone.
Alas! Sweet Youth, why wert thou made to be
At once our Glory and our Miserie?
Ah! had not thy Perfections (just begun
In Lifes fair Morning) been Eclips'd so soon,
We had admir'd and glory'd in thy Noon.
But Oh! as Angels tarry not on Earth,
And Noble Souls make haste from panting Breath;
So thou abruptly leaves thy Friends below,
Just as the Lawrel should have Crown'd thy Brow:
Thy Soul, the pure, the bright Ethereal Flame,
In haste, Wing'd up from hence to whence it came.
But why so fast? What haste for to be gone?
So as thy flight was secret, seen by none.
Why is it thy Great Ashes to us here,
[Page 9] Though sought and sought again, do not appear?
Is it because thou scornest Earthly Fame,
And from the World withdraws thy very Name?
Or is't not rather, that thy flight from Earth
May be esteem'd Translation, not a Death?
Whate'er it be, Death has no cause to boast,
As if thou wert all Shipwrackt here and lost.
For as thy Soul's Immortal, so thy Name
We do commit unto the Voice of Fame,
A Monument lo to thy Worth and Praise,
On lasting Pillars of strong Verse I raise,
Verse, which because they sing of Thee, do claim
To be Immortal, like their Noble Theme.
This done, my Muse her part to Fame gives o're,
Until Eternity discover more.
Nobilissimo Juveni Hoc qualecunque Monumentum Sacrum esse voluit,
R. F.

To the Memory of Lieutenant Collonel Fullerton:
Who was Slain at Steenkerken, July 24. St. Ver. 1692.

‘O celeres hominum bonorum dies.—’Apul.
WHat suddain Thought rides Post through all my Breast?
And does forbid my Muse to be at rest.
It was but now She Spiritless did grow,
Whilst She Mackay and Angus Worth did show;
And did resolve to let a better Pen
Record the Actions of such other Men:
As in the late sad Scene conjoyn'd did stand,
And to th' Attack did give their helping Hand.
But a new Name doth my Affections sway,
And my poor Muse doth venture to obey.
It's Fullerton. That Name doth Sound so big,
I'th' Ears of each true Williamite and Whig,
As was enough to fright a Rogue of late,
Th' Object of his Envy and his Hate:
Since there was none more nobly did despise
Base sneiking Villains and their Treacheries.
He bravely did set forth in Glories Race,
And in no Action did bely his Face,
His Face which sparkl'd with Majestick Grace:
In which a Physiognamist could see,
[Page 11] As in his Body, nought but Symmetrie.
For Nature, when she shap't and framed it,
Resolv'd with care no Error to commit,
As knowing that a noble Soul should dwell
In that fair Fabrick, which did shew so well.
A Noble Soul, which stored was with all
Th' Attractive Virtues, which could one befall:
Virtue, which did to all his Life dispense
A constant universal Influence.
Religion o're his Soul did bear the sway,
And he to God did hearty Homage pay:
Was true unto his King and General,
Kind to good men, and Courteous to all;
Brave to his Friends, Affectionat to Her,
Whose Love alternate ne're from Him did stir.
Brave was the End, which he did still design;
To reach the which, he never did decline
From the strict Rules of Virtues Sacred Line.
Through all the Stops and Hardships which he met,
He march'd Victorious; even when he Set.
When brave Argile and Monmouth joyn'd to free
The British Empire from the Tyrannie
Which did it threaten, he put to his Hand
For the Defence of his dear Native Land.
And, tho the Project failed of the end,
It serv'd the more his Valour to commend;
Who having Fought, till he could do no more,
With noble Bravery adverse Fortune bore.
Yea, Story scarce can shew a Parallel,
When he, to free th' unfortunate Argile,
Did personate his Character and Stile:
Which having done, and he a Pris'ner made,
He force'd again his Way, and bravely Fled.
But though the Noble Peer was seiz'd of new,
(Such was his Fate) yet Fullerton did shew
That sacred Supposition to be true;
[Page 12] That some brave Men there are dare shed their Blood,
To save a Patriot for a Country's good
When the great Orange triumph'd on the Main,
And justly did the British Scepter gain;
A second time he bravely ventur'd o're
With the fair Fleet, unto the longing Shore;
And justly did deserve the Character,
Which afterwards he did as bravely bear.
And as he came in valiant' Clieland's stead,
He did unto his Spirit too succeed.
But too too quick did his bright Taper burn,
And blaz'd alas! too soon into the Urn.
For in the fatal Fight, near Enguin Plains,
This noble Youth, whose Life no Error stains,
Was Call'd by Death to leave his dear Remains,
There Major Ker his Valour too did show,
And fearless did receive his mortal blow.
There Fullerton did nobly Charge through all,
Did nobly Fight and did as nobly Fall;
Scorning to be oblidg'd for Life, to those
Who basely did both God and Truth oppose.
And since he nobly thus did yield his Breath,
Let us to Fame his noble Name bequeath.
Optimo Fortissimoque Viro Versus hosce Lugubres Amica Musa. Effudit, Dicavit▪
R. F.

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