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CLXXVI.

Thousands were there in darker fame that dwell, Whose deeds some nobler poem shall adorn; And, though to me unknown, they sure fought well,

Whom Rupert led, and who were British born.

CLXXVII.

Of every size an hundred fighting sail;
So vast the navy now at anchor rides,
That underneath it the pressed waters fail,

And with its weight it shoulders off the tides.

no less fortitude engaged with those that were besieged by them in Colchester.

How Sir Frescheville Hollis's mother merited the title of a muse, or by what writings he signalised himself, I am really ignorant. There were few men of quality who did not at this time aspire to something of a literary character. As the taste for conceits began to decay before the turn for ridicule and persiflage, which characterised the wits of the court of Charles, Dryden was often ridiculed for the pedigree he has assigned to this literary champion. Buckingham alludes to it in his "Poetical Reflections on the Poem of Absalom and Achitophel," where he calls Dryden, a

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The noble author of this flat parody informs us, by marginal notes, that the "Father Publican means a committee man, and adds on the word "hero," "See's Sir Denzil Hollis." By which, by the way, we may notice, that his Grace's accuracy was much of a piece with his poetry, for the hero's name was Frescheville.

Sir Frescheville Hollis was a man of high spirit and enterprise. He lost an arm in the great sea-fight of the 3d June,

CLXXVIII.

Now, anchors weighed, the seamen shout so shrill.

That heaven and earth, and the wide ocean rings;

A breeze from westward waits their sails to fill, And rests in those high beds his downy wings.

CLXXIX.

The wary Dutch this gathering storm foresaw, And durst not bide it on the English coast; Behind their treacherous shallows they withdraw, And there lay snares to catch the British host.

CLXXX.

So the false spider, when her nets are spread, Deep ambushed in her silent den does lie, And feels far off the trembling of her thread, Whose filmy cord should bind the struggling

fly;

a circumstance alluded to in the verses. He was rearadmiral of the squadron with which Sir Robert Holmes attacked the Dutch Smyrna fleet, near the Isle of Wight, in 1671-2. Finally he was killed in the desperate action off Southwold Bay, 28th May, 1672. There is a remarkable passage in his will, made on the 17th May, 1665, by which, after stating he was going to sea, as commander of a man-ofwar, he directs: "In case my body should be brought to land to be buried, I desire that some stone may be laid over me, with this inscription: Know, reader, whatsoever thou be, if I had lived, it was my intent not to have owed my memory to any other monument but what my sword should raise for me of honour and victory."-Collins' Historical Collections of the families of Cavendish, Hollis, etc., page 74. [His father's name seems to have been Gervase, not Frescheville. Gervase Hollis was an antiquary-which does not perhaps much help the conceit.-ED.]

CLXXXI.

Then, if at last she find him fast beset,
She issues forth, and runs along her loom;
She joys to touch the captive in her net,
And drag the little wretch in triumph home.

CLXXXII.

The Belgians hoped, that, with disordered haste, Our deep-cut keels upon the sands might run; Or, if with caution leisurely* were past,

Their numerous gross + might charge us one by one.

CLXXXIII.

But with a fore-wind pushing them above, And swelling tide that heaved them from below,

O'er the blind flats our warlike squadrons move, And with spread sails to welcome battle go.

CLXXXIV.

It seemed as there the British Neptune stood,
With all his hosts of waters at command;
Beneath them to submit the officious flood,
And with his trident shoved them off the
sand.§

CLXXXV.

To the pale foes they suddenly draw near,
And summon them to unexpected fight:
They start like murderers when ghosts appear,
And draw their curtains in the dead of night.

* [i.e., apparently, "they."-ED.]

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Gross," used as a substantive for "main body." [First edition "host."-ED.]

§ Levat ipse tridenti, et vastas aperit syrtes.-Virgil.—D.

CLXXXVI.

Now van to van the foremost squadrons meet,
The midmost battles hasting up behind ;*
Who view far off the storm of falling sleet,

And hear their thunder rattling in the wind.

The particulars of the memorable engagement thus introduced and, described in the following stanzas, are thus narrated in the "Lives of the Admirals," vol. xi. :—

"On the 25th of July, about noon, the English came up with the enemy, off the North-Foreland. Sir Thomas Allen with the White squadron began the battle, by attacking Evertz. Prince Rupert and the Duke, about one in the afternoon, made a desperate attack upon De Ruyter, and, after fighting about three hours, were obliged to go on board another ship. In this space the White squadron had entirely defeated their enemies; Admiral Evertz, his vice-admiral De Vries, and his rear-admiral Koenders, being all killed, the vice-admiral of Zealand taken, and another ship of 50 guns burnt. The Prince and Duke fought De Ruyter ship to ship, disabled the "Guelderland," of 66 guns, which was one of his seconds, killed the captain of another, and mortally wounded two more, upon which the Dutch squadron began to fly. However, Vice-Admiral Van Nes stood bravely by De Ruyter, and received great damage'; yet, being at last deserted by all but seven ships, they yielded to necessity, and followed the rest of their fleet as fast as they could. De Ruyter's ship was so miserably torn, and his crew so dispirited and fatigued, that he could have made but little resistance, and nothing but the want of wind hindered the English from boarding him. As for Admiral Van Tromp, he was engaged with Sir Jeremiah Smith at a distance, and so could not assist his friends. As his was the strongest squadron of the Dutch fleet, and Smith's the weakest of the English, we had not great advantage on that side; yet some we had, his viceadmiral's ship being disabled, and his rear-admiral killed; which, however, did not hinder his fighting it out with much bravery, as long as there was light.

"Admiral de Ruyter continued his retreat that night, and the next day Prince Rupert and the Duke of Albemarle pursued him with part of the Red squadron, as fast as the wind would permit. A fire-ship bore down upon the Dutch admiral, and missed very little of setting him on fire. They

Second battle.

CLXXXVII.

At length the adverse admirals appear,

The two bold champions of each country's right;

Their eyes describe the lists as they come near, And draw the lines of death before they fight.

CLXXXVIII.

The distance judged for shot of every size,
The linstocks touch, the ponderous ball
expires: *

The vigorous seamen every port-hole plies,
And adds his heart to every gun he fires!

CLXXXIX.

Fierce was the fight on the proud Belgians' side, For honour, which they seldom sought before; But now they by their own vain boasts were tied,

And forced, at least in show, to prize it more.

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then cannonaded again, when De Ruyter found himself so hard pressed, and his fleet in such imminent danger, that, in a fit of despair he cried out, My God, what a wretch am I! amongst so many thousand bullets, is not there one to put me out of my pain?' By degrees, however, he drew near their own shallow coast, where the English could not follow him. Upon this occasion Prince Rupert insulted the Dutch admiral by sending a little shallop, called the "Fanfan,” with two small guns on board, which, being rowed near De Ruyter's vessel, fired upon him for two hours together; but at last a ball from the Dutch admiral so damaged his contemptible enemy, that the crew were forced to row, and that briskly, to save their lives. The enemy being driven over the flats into the wylings, the English went to lie at Schonevelt, the usual rendezvous of the Dutch fleets."

* Expires, in the unusual sense of "is blown forth."

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