Ingratitude reveng'd, or, A poem upon the happy victory of His Majesties naval forces against the Dutch, June the 3 and 4, 1665 under the auspicious conduct of His Royal Highness James Duke of York, Lord Admiral of England &c.

Ingratitude reveng'd, or, A poem upon the happy victory of His Majesties naval forces against the Dutch, June the 3 and 4, 1665 under the auspicious conduct of His Royal Highness James Duke of York, Lord Admiral of England &c.

Table of contents

Title page

TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, JAMES Duke of York & Albanie, Earl of Ulster, Constable of Dover Castle, Lord Warden of the Cinque-Ports, Governor of the Town of Portsmouth, Knight of the most Noble Order of the Garter, Lord High Admiral of England, Ireland and Wales, and the Dominions and Islands thereto belonging, of the Town of Calis, and Marches of the same; of Normandy, Gascoigne, and Aquitane; And One of His Majesties Most Honorable Privy Council.

INGRATITUDE REVENGD.

INGRATITUDE REVENGD.

[Page]

SCarce had poor Holland baffl'd potent Spain,

When she usurps upon the spacious Main;

And (oh ingrateful!) first affronts that Crown,

Whose Pow'r alone kept her from sinking down,

Whose kinder pity and relieving grace,

Stampt High and Mighty on her Brazen-face.

So the revived Snake seeks to destroy

That Life, by which she did her own enjoy.

No sooner had our mis-imployed Sword

Dissolv'd their Yoke, expell'd their Nat'ral Lord,

But (oh perfidious!) these Dutch Fisher-men

Their Patrons quite forget, demonstrate plain

How they'l requite us. And our Merchants finde

To whom i'th Indies they had been so kinde.

Their baseness had un-sheath'd our

King James

Sov'reign's Blade,

If th' High and Mighty had not quickly made

Humble Requests for Peace; which got, how soon

Broke? witness Lantoree and Poleroon,

And that unparallel'd dire Cruelty

AMBOYNA saw, of all the Epitomy.

Not any Heathen, any Christian Prince,

But breaking Leagues, they have abused since;

And if their sly Endeavors had not fail'd,

The World from Holland must have all retayl'd.

His Sacred MAJESTY now taking Care,

A Nest of Pyrats should not Christians scare,

(A Crew of Infidels, that domineers

In thieving Tunis, and in proud Argiers)

[Page] With th' Dutch contracts by joyned Power t'invade

These Vile Obstructors of all Publique Trade.

But (oh! the like can any Age produce?)

These treacherous Toads with Argiers strikes a Truce;

Intending to make LONDON stoop as low

To pedling Amsterdam, as Antwerp now.

When Reparation's sought for, with fresh throngs

They do require us of renewed Wrongs,

And will with Arms, and armed Fleets maintain,

Forgetting their last Fate, their Pride again.

All this yet our Heroick Neptune views

With un-disturbed looks, no passion shews;

Yet doth at last with a Majestick Frown

Tell them, Myn Heer must vail to th' English Crown.

Now is His ROYAL HIGHNESS out at Sea,

And wondring Thetis is amaz'd to see

Whole Forrests float upon her face,

Whilest her soft Bosom moving Castles grace.

Neptune displeas'd to finde his Tritons caught

Within a Wooden City, lab'ring sought

To make's Escape, cryes out; Here's one that reigns

O're me, and bindes my vaster arms in chains;

Here's he, who Rules as far as Windes do blow,

Or winged Fleets upon my Surface go;

Whose weighty Navies make my shoulders crack,

Whose daring Subjects plough my ample back,

Who have toucht all by their Discoveries,

That rising, or that setting Phoebus sees.

Then his affrighted head th'astonish'd God

Sunk down again into his moist Abode.

Now had kinde Zeph'rus with auspicious Gales

Stretch'd out our Canvas, fill'd our pregnant Sayls,

And in triumphant order wafted o're

Our well-mann'd Fleet to view the Belgian shore,

Our still-victorious Flags there riding, made

The poor Dutch Lyon shrink into a shade.

Straight angry Corus doth usurp the Deep,

Their Festivals the wanton Porpus keep,

[Page] Presaging Storms; but ours, some Tackling lost,

Recover safe again the Brittish Coast:

These Storms at last the bragging Dutch bring out,

Storms or more kinde or cruel, is a doubt,

Which though permitting to joyn with their Friends,

Hurry'd them on to their approaching ends.

Saturday the 3 of June, at three of the Clock in the morning. 1665

Unwilling Phoebus slowly hastened,

As very loth to leave his Eastern Bed:

Desiring rather to eclipse his Ray,

Than view the Slaughters of th'ensuing day.

Heavens smaller Lights then seem'd to cease to burn,

Dreading the ancient Chaos might return.

And now our Fleet bears up, enrag'd (they say)

That Winds and Ocean were more calm than they.

The Cyclades you might have then believ'd,

Torn from their firm Foundations, had been heav'd

On the rude Waves; or that vast Mountains had

Strongly 'gainst Mountains there encountered;

Or two unfixed Towns, or floating Woods,

Or Islands rolling on the curled Floods.

The War-presaging Trumpet and loud Drum,

In horrid accents tell the Dutch We come;

Who after Brandy-wine and Gunpowder

Had well provok't their duller Souls draw near,

Such Morning-Draughts Sarmatians never take,

Nor those that border on Meotis Lake;

The Dutch those Cannibals intend t' out-vie,

As well in Barbarism, as in Cruelty.

The Tyger, Lyon, Elephant and Bear,

The Leopard, Wolf, the Boar, the Dog appear

Fiercely advancing, threatning bloody strife,

With an aspect far grimmer than the Life,

Making depressed Amphitrite show

A salvage Wilderness, or like unto

Old Rome's great Circus, where these beasts did breathe

Their last, in acting serious parts of Death.

The Tempest-breathing Brass soon spoke aloud,

Muffling Day's Visage in a dusky cloud,

[Page] Forthwith involving in a sable Cloak

Contending Fleets, whilest Seas lay hid in smoak;

And from its angry Mouth fierce Bullets flie,

Impartial Messengers of Destinie.

If some old Greek, or Roman Poet had

But heard this dismal Noise, and view'd the sad

And never-equall'd Slaughters here, no words

Had now been left us in the fam'd Records

Of Troy or Thebs; Ulysses still had lay

Forgotten in his Native Ithaca:

Aeneas too had un-remembred come

From the Sigiean shore to Latium;

Sicilian Aetna ne're had kept such coil,

Nor the loud Cataracts of Seven mouth'd Nile.

Fiercely each Ship in a resolved Rage,

All terrors of grim Death forgot, engage;

Upon each other a tempestuous Shower

Of fatal Broad-sides never-ceasing powre,

Whilest meagre Death (but then in Purple clad)

Is satiated with the wounds they made:

Cross Charon rails at him with winged feet,

Because he had not rigg'd him out a Fleet,

Or tallow'd his old Boat; Legions of Ghosts

Vex the old Sculler, fill the Stygian Coasts.

The sense of Hearing is by hearing crost,

All Fear by too much cause of fear is lost;

The loud-mouth'd Cannons roaring silenc'd then

The groans of wounded, and of dying men:

Nought left but Valour, here's no way to run,

No means approaching Dangers left to shun,

Here all men know (if they come any more)

Their hands, not feet, must bring them to the shore.

Here might be seen a helpless Pine, had got

'Twixt winde and water an unlucky Shot;

But whilest the colder Element steals in,

She burns; then a grand Combate doth begin

Between old Neptune and the God of Fire,

Till in the conquering Waves he must expire;

[Page] Mean while her men need take no care for Graves,

Both crackling Flames, and rough devouting Waves

Are ready; Death sits in's Majestick weeds,

The furious Bullets take away their Heads;

Next comes a whistling Chain-shot, sweeps away

Hundreds from Vulcans rage into the Sea;

Though different Planets, various Aspects reign'd

When they were born, they center in one end.

Let antique dayes forget their Actium now,

The stout Agrippa and Augustus too,

And let the Legends never more be seen

Of mad Antonius, or th' Egyptian Queen;

Nor let the Austrian Prince Lepanto name

His Naval Conquest, nor the Turkish shame.

Audacious Opdam toward the Duke does stear

His Gouty Limbs, included in a Chair,

Kindly salutes with his Broad-sides, and then

His Highness sharply answers him agen;

His ROYAL HIGHNESS on whose Conquering Brow

So many Naval Coronets shall grow.

Here's Eight of theirs with Four of ours engag'd;

Saturday, 5 in the evening.

Never till now thus dire Bellona rag'd:

One Ball by a sad inauspicious blow,

Muskerry, Boyl, and loved Falmouth slew,

Close by His HIGHNESS, who undaunted stood,

Although besprinkled with their purple blood.

Now Opdam's wounded, when a happy Shot

Alters the Scene, and spoils the present Plot.

Oh happy Shot! whose sure unerring blow

Reliev'd His HIGHNESS, and procured too

Brave Smith an Honor, and a lasting Name,

To live in the Eternal Books of Fame;

Whilest Opdam's End, or th' Oriana's Fate,

Shall be lamented by the Hogen State.

Now Opdam's Ship takes fire, high thunder spoke,

Belching up horrid Waves of flames and smoke,

Obnubilating the disturbed Skies,

A pitchy Cloud of Powder roaring flies.

[Page]

Not so the vast Enceladus doth roar,

Shaking the Basis o'th' Trinacrian shore,

VVhen from hot Aetna's subterranean Caves,

Huge cinder'd Rocks, curl'd Flames and Fumes he heaves.

This Tempest bears up all; torn Members there

Of half-dead Mortals flie i'th yielding Air,

Using an Art beyond Dedalian skill,

To mount Air's Regions with no feathered Quill;

Men, Decks, Guns, Tackling, broken Planks and tall

Masts, i'th' same Chaos are evolved all;

And into Step-dame Thetis must fall low,

As Phaethon into the River Poe.

Now might be seen upon the liquid Plain

Two Foes, though swimming, fierce t' engage again,

Strugling together, till both loose their breath;

Poor souls! though foes in life, yet friends in death.

Two brothers shaking hands forsake the light,

Both slain together, take their last Good-night,

And dying thus in their own blood they lye,

Truely conjoyn'd in Consanguinity.

Here's one whose Arms are gone, (then useful Limbs)

Yet wanting them (alas!) a while he swims,

Thinking to catch kinde Planks; till out of breath,

And wearied, armless he embraceth Death.

But you thrice Noble, thrice Illustrious Souls,

Whom immaturer Destiny Enrols

Dear Victims to your grateful Countreys good,

VVho for your KING and Countrey spent your blood,

How must we mourn you! Oh! those colder VVaves

VVhereon you dy'd, whereon such horror raves,

Are scarce with all their brackish Floods, Supplies

Enough to furnish our lamenting Eyes!

These HEROES knew it was a gallant toil

To lose their Lives to save their Native Soil.

These were our Decii; let our Matrons mourn,

Let th' Peoples Hearts be their eternal Urn;

And, though the chiller Seas Entomb them now.

Tell the next Age what they, and theirs do owe

[Page] To such Deserts! whilest in a doleful Knell

We give our Salve, and our last Farewel.

Oh happy Worthies! if my humble Pen

Could here have reacht the old Poetick Strain,

You should have lived!—Yet your lasting Fame

Shall be Eterniz'd by a purer Flame.

The Dutch thus worsted, and five Admirals slain,

Nine taken, Eighteen sunk, they strive to gain

The Texel with the rest; but many come

A great way short of their desired Home.

But oh! GREAT SIR, the Title's due to You,

To His Majesty.

Of Brittains Parent, and its Refuge too!

In Your long, happy, and successful Raign,

Saturnian Ages will return again.

You many careful Nights (Great Prince) do make,

That we may all our rest securely take.

You by Your Royal Care and Wisdom, know

To guard us from our selves, and from our Foe.

The proudest Nations on the Globe must Greet,

With stooping Sayls, each Vessel of the Fleet;

Whilest by most Potent Princes, YOU alone

For the World's feared Neptune shall be known.

And You, Illustrious Sir, by whose great Care

To the Duke of York.

And happy Conduct we successful are,

How many Naval Honors, Triumphs you,

And Rostrate Columns doth your Countrey owe?

A Herd of Sheep with such a Chieftain might

Tygers subdue, and Leopards put to flight;

How can the Mastiff e're be conquered,

Whilest there's a Royal Lyon for his Head?

VVhen Thetis saw you furrowing her Plains,

VVe may suppose she us'd these kinder strains.

Here's He, whose early Glories do out-run

The envy'd Lustre of my VVarlike Son;

Whose worth in Honors-Field one hour declares

Greater, than he attained in ten years.

And, oh Heroick Prince, your Conduct too

To Prince Rupert.

Subdues proud Holland, with our Hearts also;

[Page] This Happy Victory can do no less,

Than Crown your former Labors with Success.

Brave Sandwich, Lawson, Ascugh, Holms, their Glory

Shall in our Annals have a living Story,

With all the rest of those bold Worthies, who

Reveng'd their injur'd Countrey on its Foe.

And You, the Noblest Patriots, ever were

To the Two Houses of Parliament.

Within those Walls, your wise foreseeing Care,

With liberal hearts provide for fresh Supplies,

Knowing in Money War's best Sinews lyes.

What shall not England now not dare to do,

Embrac'd both by her Sovereign and You?

And thou, oh stately City, whose fair face

To the City of London.

Minerva, Mercury, Bellona grace,

Whose Arms and Arts astonish'd Europe owns,

Whose Trade the frigid and the torrid Zones,

VVhose double-named River kindly brings

[As Tribute] useful, and all precious things,

Rich Indian Harvests, what is rare or strange,

Whilest his transparent Stream's the Worlds Exchange,

Thy helping hand was here. What though

London Frigat.

that's gone

Which bore thy Name? thy willing heart builds one

Greater than She, whom angry Fates no more

Resolv'd should terrifie the Belgick shore.

Oh may thou flourish still secure from Foes,

VVhilest lucid Thames in his Meanders goes

Through reedy Banks; but slowly hast'ning thus,

To the Embraces of Oceanus.

FINIS.

§

[Page]

Ingratitude Reveng'd: OR, A POEM UPON THE HAPPY VICTORY OF HIS Majesties Naval Forces AGAINST THE DUTCH; June the 3. and 4. 1665.

Under the Auspicious CONDUCT of His ROYAL HIGHNESS, JAMES DUKE of YORK, Lord High Admiral of England, &c.

Non ego ventosae plebis suffragia venor,

Contentus paucis lectoribus.—

Horat.

LONDON: Printed by T. J. for Dixy Page, at the Turks-head in Cornhil, near the Royal Exchange, 1665.

TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, JAMES Duke of York & Albanie,
Earl of Ulster, Constable of Dover Castle, Lord Warden of the Cinque-Ports, Governor of the Town of Portsmouth, Knight of the most Noble Order of the Garter, Lord High Admiral of England, Ireland and Wales, and the Dominions and Islands thereto belonging, of the Town of Calis, and Marches of the same; of Normandy, Gascoigne, and Aquitane; And One of His Majesties Most Honorable Privy Council.

[Page]

May it please Your Highness,

THough I may be supposed to undertake vainly, like him, who would needs read Lectures of Martial Stratagems to the Great Carthaginian, yet Your Highness his innate Candour, and Command in the late [Page] Happy Victory, obliged me to prostrate these Lines at Your feet. And in this Pamphlet is as much dutiful Affection, as if it were a greater Volume of the Authors, who humbly implores the honour to subscribe himself,

Your ROYAL HIGHNESS Most obedient Servant, William Smith.

Information about this book

Title statement

Ingratitude reveng'd, or, A poem upon the happy victory of His Majesties naval forces against the Dutch, June the 3 and 4, 1665 under the auspicious conduct of His Royal Highness James Duke of York, Lord Admiral of England &c.

Smith, William, fl. 1660-1686.

Edition statement

1665

Publication

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Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2005-12 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A60595

ID [STC]

Wing S4258

ID [STC]

ESTC R26926

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

09581612

ID [OCLC]

ocm 09581612

ID [VID]

43719

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A60595)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 43719)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1340:14)

Source

— Ingratitude reveng'd, or, A poem upon the happy victory of His Majesties naval forces against the Dutch, June the 3 and 4, 1665 under the auspicious conduct of His Royal Highness James Duke of York, Lord Admiral of England &c., Smith, William, fl. 1660-1686..

Extent

[2], 8 p.

Printed by T.J. for Dixy Page,. London :: 1665.. ("Epistle dedicatory" signed: William Smith.) (Reproduction of original in the Harvard University Library.)

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