English Iliads, OR A SEA-FIGHT REVIEWED IN A POEM Occasioned by the death of a person of Honour slain in the late War between the English and the Dutch.
By J. W.
Together with an Irenicum, or Reflections on the Trumpeter and Conditions of Peace.
— moriemur in ultis
At moriemur ait —
Virg. Aeneid.
The noble Voluntiers free as mans Will
Aequally ready to be kill'd or kill.
— [...]
Hom. Iliad. 4.
But slavish Seamen forced by a Press
Stood on the Decks, like Vooden men at Chess.
London, Printed for Jonathan Edwin at the three Roses in Ludgate Street, 1674.
An Advice to a Friend to print his Poem, part being written some years past.
WHen sence in Poesie heightened cometh forth,
It doth not borrow from the times its worth,
As some spruce Wits, whom Fortune doth renown
For some caught upstart humour of the Town,
Which when digested in a waggish Verse,
Extorts a laugh from Clubbing Stationers,
Or some pert Novice who will them commend,
If luckily a pair of lines do end,
Or some fond Poet, who writes Playes in rithm,
With a new measure vaumping up old time,
Which made Theatrical, the vulgar stares,
At's jingling verse, tagg'd as the points he wears,
'Tis trifling Art which syllables cant vary,
What you write's like Caesars Commentary,
And what's eternal do not call too late,
That neither hath a Poste or Antedate.
J. W.
ENGLISH ILLIADS, OR A SEA-FIGHT REVIEWED IN A POEM Occasioned by the death of a person of Honour slain in the late War between the English and the Dutch.
On the Death of the Lord of MAIDSTONE.
WEr't proper now to cry or make sad noise,
I'de borrow breath, or steal a Stentors voice
Rending the Earth for's Vault, and with my moan
The Earth should eccho whilst the Sea did groan.
His Mourners throat must all be Canon bore,
Who' wails his fate, loud as the Seas must roar.
I call my Muse, which through a tender throat,
At vulagar death sends forth a whining note;
Here must be sighs like winds, which rageing blow
With lofty wings disordering all below.
Some with their sudden shrieks awaken'd death,
Whilst men expiring catch their mourners breath,
By which but half alive, they ghastly stare,
'Till Fates retake their rescu'd Prisoner,
Way with such accents, they are childish tones.
Honours disturb'd by 'frighting Female moans.
NOBLES and TARPOLLINS compar'd.
THough the bold Sailor's arm'd 'gainst wind and weather,
Whose Nerves like cordage knit his limbs together,
Whose joynts like Pulleys, and his Callous hand,
Like the Ships helm, can its vaste bulk command;
And leggs and arms, as yeards and masts, whilst he
Vaunts with his strength, the Ships Epitome:
Rigg'd by his King he fears not to prevail,
Tallow'd in's mels, and when cloath'd under sail,
Such a Sea-man of War by's own broadside,
Not by the Ships, thinks himself fortified,
Though this Pitcht Monster strutting on the decks
In heat of fight melts like a Babe of wax:
Yet Nobles tender frame Seamen deride,
Not built by Nature t'outface wind and tide,
But the Tarpollin thinks his own skin buff,
Tann'd by the weather to be Musket proof,
And in his sinews only made for toyl
Thinks himself wrapt as in a cable coyl
Yet he's not safe, though he scape iron balls
As ill built fabricks by's own weight he falls,
As Niobe suppose him made of stone,
With marble sides hard as the rock, his bone
Ribb'd like his vessel, whom if you look on
Youl swear his soul's in Naturs garrison
Yet not secure, a little force hath broke
The sturdy flint when art did give the strok
A twisted silk much stronger is than thread,
Those who are finest made, not soonest dead.
How much of Canvas, and rude flesh was torn?
How many limbs broke in that bloody morn?
Yet Maidstone's safe, the cruel Fates all day,
'Fore they could hit, their threatning balls did lay.
Some look on Voluntiers as on the Moon,
Which the Clown thinks made to be gazd upon
These are but vulgar errors, for each ray
Commands a wave, her all the Seas obey.
Such true Heroes, who adorn their breast,
With a brave courage, not for fight were drest,
Yet the Ships Glory, they as Colours are
To shew whose Ship it is, and cause of War,
Which Flags of silk are oft with honour born,
On the Main Top when lower sails are torn.
Late Wars compar'd with those in former Ages.
Speak not of men who dare in forrests stalk,
'Mongst Dens and Caves, but who on Decks can walk.
The Naval Squadrons when design'd for War,
Seem like a Wood where fiercest Creatures are,
Whose Images, plac'd on the Sterns, do more
Affright than living savage Beasts at shore,
Vnder those shadows the loud Cannons roar,
These senceless Figures onely made for state,
Seem living when the Guns them animate;
From Mast to Mast Sea-men like Squirrels skip,
Whilst great Guns roar, as Lions, in the ship;
A Fleets a moving Desart on the Seas,
An artificial floating Wilderness.
When Souldiers were first train'd they onely knew
To bend a Wooden Arch, a piece of Eugh,
Or sturdy steal, which scorns its bridle string,
And humane arms, whilst it the shot doth sling,
They sent their darts like winged death through
the aire,
Whose threatning plumes stroke Armies in despair,
But never bullet shot, which as it flyes,
Do's whistle death, and sing mens Obsequies.
When steal's edg'd force, and hollow brass unknown,
Prodigious stones were by great Ajax thrown,
Which by success 'mongst Greeks were sam'd and made
The subject of Old Homers Iliade,
The Roman who by sieges spread his name,
His cheifest Engine was the battering Ram
When Cities were as folds, the Hurdle wall
By such mechanical devise did fall:
When brutish men first yok'd in towns were stal'd
And Kings and Shepheards by the same name call'd
The first and best of Engineers did use
Glass to burn Ships which were at Syracuse,
Such weapons if with ours compar'd are toyes,
Ours look like Soldiers arms, theirs fit for boyes;
Though Glasses (those bold thieves) out face the Sun,
And steal noons fire, they are by Guns out down,
Canons their Engines do as much surpass
As a Fire ship doth a smal burning Glass
Let Carthaginians talk of Alps and snow,
The Liquid Mountains, which on leas do flow,
Are much more terrible, rock mountains there,
Yield not to ships though fraught with vinegar
By punick Art 'haps such sowre liquor, can
Consume Land rocks; not those in th' Ocean,
All these can't fright, not rocks or rageing wind
Can 'ere make wreck of a true noble mind.
Canons more terrible than Thunder.
WHo Guns and Thunder will compare may see
How Heaven's out done by Earths artillery
To be aveng'd of some an angry Jove
Calls for a Cloud, and when it is above,
Contracting it's own nitrous parts, doth crowd
Them in the bosom of a dismal Cloud,
Thus charg'd, it sails about the spacious Aire
Striking some guilty Cowards in despair,
And makes an Emperour put's lawrel on
Fearing the Worlds, and's own destruction:
And when great Jove prepared stands shoot,
Through the Clouds bowels the enrag'd fire bursts out,
The fluid sides its force doth rend in sunder,
And then's the crack wch Mortals do call thunder,
To make a noise like that once Art did try,
That Earth might be the Eccho of the Sky,
One envying the pompous State above
Did give a challenge to the thundring Jove,
A Chariotier with's Bridge thought he could vye
Noise with Heavens arch though his was not so high.
But none Guns thunder counterfeited, that
Transcends all skill and power to imitate,
If Art and Nature joyn'd for a loud noise,
The Cannons roaring mouth would be their choice,
Things so unlike who ever dar'd compare,
Guns brazen sides, and thunders cloudy aire?
The hollow Irons more dreadful and more loud
Than th hollow heavens are with the thundring clouds,
For a bolt sent from thence, may with its stroke,
Touch an unmoved hill or shake an Oak,
Split by unknown force, but when the Gun.
Sends shot, that can rend ships, more oakes then one.
Thunder affrights with noyse but hurts us not,
Like a gun charg'd with powder not with shot,
Lightnings like fireships with false wooden guns
Only can scorch the sides by which it runs,
But when the prison'd shot breaks loose the gun
It self doth start and carriage backward run
No sooner is the fire put to the trayne
But by one blow almost an army's slain;
The thundring clouds can't at all times appear
Heavens guns are charging at least, half the year,
From Spring to Autum then the angry sky
Doth scorch the Earth which Summers heat made dry,)
But Canons force, quickas the sudden eye,
One spark makes shot, swift as the lightnings fly
Such fatal thunder he did fear no more
Than noise proclaiming triumphs on the shore.
More brave than Caesar he scorns Laureal wreaths
Though midst sea lightning, and the smoke, he breaths;
Cause when it thunder'd he no laureal wore
Its but just to crown him with't on shore.
Some Ships on Fire.
THese are home-dangers, when he looks abroad.
He sees more terrours in the watry Road,
There fire and water in confusion,
The world did seem to end as it begun,
Forth' Elements contending on the main,
Seem'd a new Chaos, and canfus'd again,
Sulphurous lightning all about he sees,
Whose flashes threaten to lick up the Seas,
More dreadful 'twas than fire at Phaeton's fall
That frighted Earth, but this do's Sea and all
Its powerful Gods, such flames do fly about,
Which Neptune in's full sea cannot put out
Nothing but flames, which way so e're he turn
The grapling Keels like funeral Pils do burn,
Which boards some Ships, and none its rage can stop,
Displaying its flameing Flag on the Main top,
(That Lemnian Cripple propt with one sound leg)
With greatst Monarchs will dispute his Flag.
No buckets then can serve, no Engine can
Quench such wild fire though't squirt the Ocean
Seamen like spiders up the Ropes do climb,
And there they hang long as their weary'd limb
Can hold, but, when the rageing fire doth play,
To quench themselves fall down into the Sea.
Wild beasts at sight of fire do start, and fly,
And some with noise of Guns, not shot, do die,
But the brave Spirits dare themselves involve
In fire which can't destroy, though't can dissolve,
They are first principles, who fear no flame,
Which may scortch bodies, but calcines their name.
More danger in a Sea-Fight, than in a Land-Battle.
FOrtune disown's the name of Wheel, for she
Makes seas the Emblem of unconstancy;
She on a watry globe impowr'd to drown
More rash then spokes do's turn waves up and down:
The hardned Seamen who their days have spent;
With patience, on th'unconstant Element
Say that their lives still border on despair
Their flying Fish scarce live 'twixt flouds and air,
Who can proynosticate where winds will blow
Or calculate how high the seas will flow,
By lunar aspects, when art that hath done
'Tis like a picture of a changing moon
A Protea [...] face who ever could pourtrey
Or gogling eye which never looks, one way
Sea fights not rul'd by science, no sure skill
To protect lives, or certaine rule to kill
Who incamp's secure within his line,
And nought do's fear but earth quakes or a mine
Which may be sprung, from which point winds do blow;
He cares not seeing his footing's sure below;
But who on seas doth 'venture out to war
Must wait the leisure of some slow-pac't star
And fickle winds? The Roman with his spade
Hath level'd hills, and wayes through mountaines made
But watry mounts not strength or art makes plain
A planet queen in rambling seas doth reign;
Only the moon can make seas rise or fall,
And as she runs her course obeys her call.
Some excuse cowardize with Pretence that no Valour can be shewed at Sea.
TO stay on shore Cowards more pleas will feign
And cry down all the actions on the main,
They curse the gods and do blind Fortune blame
And her fit Engines, guns which have no aime;
The ship doth stagger, and the moving gun
Unconstant as the wheel it runs upon:
Canons surprize and do in ambush lay,
Peepe out of wood, and unexpected slay,
And as a Lyon Seiz'd of's prey doth roar
Come out of thickets not perceiv'd before;
Wh'in duels falls, or the swords victim lyes,
He sees the point which threatens 'fore he dyes
But Bullets are not seen whilst they do fly,
Clandestine murther gives them Victory,
And when that is obtain'd, the treach'rous Gun
Makes Proclamation of what shot hath done,
Who on the land with steel do miss their pass
Retract and stand on the same gorund and place,
And some land souldiers save themselves by flight,
With as much honour as they could by fight,
But ships are prisons, and the Naval Wall,
Do's shut men up, till Fate sayes who shall fall,
These thoughts keeps some at home, who ne'r intend
To go beyond their Thule, the Lands end,
For fear the briny flouds their feet should wet,
Their door posts are Herculean Pillars set,
These are like trees which on the Earth do stand
Ty'd fast by roots and nourish't by the Land,
They are like shell fish, and their souls nome bred.
Who starve without a house spread o're their head;
This Crab-fish Crew, when they are fore't to sea,
Though seeming forward, backward creep away,
They when the Fleets are smartly joyn'd i fight
Like Isles inchanted vanish out of sight,
And when there's thunder for their ears too loud,
Aeneas like, pass off in smoke and clouds,
But Maidstone sought alost in sight of all,
And made the World Spectators of his fall.
Some with these dangers terrified did weep,
Cowards like Reptiles in the Ark did did creep
Into the hole as Snakes with out warm blood,
Or treacherous Greeks shut in a Horse Wood.
Loss of Men in the Ships
TO see the number of the men there slain
Would make some blood congeal'd in every vein,
To see an arm broke here, and there a thigh
And legs design'd to walk, in th'air to fly,
Some would expire by kind sympathy
There are dissections where the small shot flie,
That fleas the man, and shews his Arteries,
And veins and sinews with the naked bone,
Without a help of a Chyrurgion,
But th'great Shot as terrible as great
Opens the breast and shews how the heart does beat,
With ruins compass'd he undaunted stood,
Aloft 'mongst splinters of the bones and Wood,
How many Cowards in a fearful fit,
Fancied themselves next blot that should be hit:
How many victims slain fell by his side,
How many deaths saw he before he dy'd,
The numerous Corps hurl'd over board that day,
Like men at Chesboard he saw born away,
True courage faints not though bare bones it see,
Neither doth start at Wars Anatomy.
Though thousands bleed on decks, and thousands slain
Like Monsters floating on the bloody Main
Reliques of carcasses boy'd by the flood,
Like Niles Productions out of its warm Mud,
Yet all these sights his valour could not check,
Which Scorns all storms He's like a Mast on Deck
If all were slain He'd call the ship his own,
Nought can disturb brave souls possession.
The Fleet Be calm'd.
The Sullen Calm & the more thwarting tyde
Stood in the way when victory should ride,
Yet the stout English valour wont obey
Commands of fickle air or flowing sea,
If Aeolus hold his, they'l breath a wind
Into their sailes, rather than lurck behind;
Sandwich and Harman both will cross the sea
If Neptune frown they'l frown as much as he
If he do side with the Dutch enemy
If Aeolus be sullen, and the waves
Like a dead Jea, they'l row like galley Slaves
With Canonns iron oares, for every gun
When 'twas discharg'd did serve to tug them on
The winds were like the cautious Swede and Dane
Who interposed in actions on the Main
And seemed like friends but merely out of spite
They stopt their breath for to prevent the fight
Only part of the Fleet engaged.
HAve you not seen the Snake that dunghilwonder,
When some stout arm cuts its sleek back in sunder,
Though't so disabled that it cannot fight,
With spiral turnings would its part unite,
So the far sever'd ships, and disjoyn'd Fleet
Did make Meanders on the Waves to meet;
Yet 'twas in vain, for Seamen with their skill
Tacking about, their sayles could never fill.
Have you not seen a Champion, when he's held
By others strength from rushing in the feild,
Doubles his rage, as Sampson when he's bound
Did snap his cords, and all about him wound,
Such was the English valour, they on board
Did Burst a cable as he snapt a cord
For though the Calm opposing ships dotye
Like ankors to their bay the bullets fly
Nobility doth not degrade it self by encounters with the most best vassals.
THe want of courage some would thus excuse,
With a loud oath they swear they do not use
To fight gainst galley slaves, and when they dy'd
Would for their lives as Peers by Peers, be try'd
Such weak pretences this brave Hero scorn'd,
By the base foe the conquest is dorn'd
Champions design'd the greatest acts to do,
Fought not with starrs but baser things below.
Gyants were fools, who did the heavens assault
Tis more true valour t' enter in a vault
Where Snakes or Dragones are, such foes as these
Become St. George, or the great Hercules,
Who ugly Polyphemus hills in's den
Doth more than if he slew ten thousand men,
He who resolv'd to get the name of man
Fights not th'Athenians, But the Affrican,
Some Hero's travel'd to the banks of Nile
Cause famous for its monstrous Crocodile
The Champions so renown'd for Courage, when
They went to fight sought not for gentlemen,
Great Theseus duel'd Robbers and did slay
The plundring crew, which on the road did prey
One Hero'o virtue by a dung hil tryed,
By which the Augean groom was deifted.
Who wanting foes above to try his might
Did open earth, and went to Hell to fight,
My Lord kill'd by a shot, when the Dutch Fleet was at a great distance from the English, about six a clock in the Evening.
ALL mischief seems far off when it is near,
It ceases to be such caus't doth appear;
It is Fates method to conceal decrees,
What's most pernicious that man seldom sees,
When Nature fights, and doth resolve to kill,
She fools Physitians with pretended skill,
By what man falls these men of Art scarce know:
'Till death strips man, and shews the mortal blow.
Dark Destinies with him did seem to play,
But a sad Vesper clos'd an auspicious day,
They seem'd unwilling, yet resolv'd his fall,
And then like Jugglers play'd a Fatal Ball.
When starrs fight against men, and Heavens wage War,
Saturn hurts most, though the most distant star,
As a land Captain he to death did yield,
The first who enters, but last leaves the field,
He fell, and as he fell, the Seamen cry,
Here is true valour, true Nobility,
They look't on him, and the declining Sun,
And when both sate, 'twas time the fight was done.
An Irenicum or Reflections on the Conditions of Peace by the Trumpeter.
Come Triton with thy Trumpet calm the Seas,
Proclaim no Triumph, only sound like peace,
Away my Martial numbers it is meet,
You are laid by like a neglected Fleet,
My comick Muse Halcyon like will rest,
On the shore side, no Seas will wrack her nest,
Now Guns are gagged, and speak not as in War,
There is no sound but of the Trumpeter:
Who on the English shores, in's brass did blow
With such success as once 'gainst Jericho,
For by's breath the Ships our wooden Wall
Gave way, though force could never make them fall,
Dutch bottoms like the Trojan bulky Horse,
Which ne're could find away by Arms or force,
But when a treasure in their keeles do bring,
The Fleet makes way as Convoy to a King.
FINIS.