and her commander, sir John Chicheley, made prisoner, her sailors soon after finding the opportunity they had watched for, seized all the Dutch sailors who had been put in upon them, and brought the ship back to our own fleet, together with all the Dutchmen prisoners; for which, as they deserved, they were well rewarded. This is the same ship which the earl of Mulgrave, afterwards duke of Buckingham, commanded the next sea fight, and has caused to be painted in his house in St. James's Park.

I must not omit one very remarkable occurrence which happened in this ship. There was a gentleman aboard her, a volunteer, of a very fine estate, generally known by the name of Hodge Vaughan: this person received, in the beginning of the fight, a considerable wound, which the great confusion during the battle would not give them leave to inquire into; so he was carried out of the way, and disposed of in the hold. They had some hogs aboard, which the sailor, under whose care they were, had neglected to feed; these hogs, hungry as they were, found out and fell upon the wounded person, and between dead and alive eat him up to his very scull, which, after the fight was over, and the ship retaken, as before, was all that could be found of him.

Another thing, less to be accounted for, happened to a gentleman volunteer who was aboard the same ship with myself. He was of known personal courage, in the vulgar notion of it, his sword never having failed him in many private duels. But notwithstanding all his land-mettle, it was observed of him at sea, that whenever the bullets whizzed over his head, or any way incommoded his ears, he immediately quitted the deck, and ran down into the hold. At first he was gently reproached; but after many repetitions, he was laughed at, and began to be despised; sensible of which, as a testimonial of his valour, he made it his request to be tied to the mainmast. But had it been

granted him, I cannot see any title he could have pleaded from hence to true magnanimity; since to be tied from running away can import nothing less than that he would have still continued these signs of cowardice if he had not been prevented. There is a bravery of mind which I fancy few of those gentlemen duellists are possessed of. True courage cannot proceed from what sir Walter Raleigh finely calls the art or philosophy of quarrel. No! It must be the issue of principle, and can have no other basis than a steady tenet of religion. This will appear more plain, if those artists in murder will give themselves leave coolly to consider, and answer me this question, Why he that had ran so many risks at his sword's point, should be so shamefully intimidated at the whiz of a cannonball?

The names of those English gentlemen who lost their lives, as I remember, in this engagement.

Commissioner Cox, captain of the Royal Prince, under the command of the admiral; and Mr. Travanian, gentleman to the duke of York; Mr. Digby, captain of the Henry, second son to the earl of Bristol; sir Fletchvile Hollis, captain of the Cambridge, who lost one of his arms in the war before, and his life in this; captain Saddleton, of the Dartmouth; the lord Maidstone, son to the earl of Winchelsea, a volunteer on board the Charles, commanded by sir John Harman, vice-admiral of the Red.

Sir Philip Carteret, Mr. Herbert, Mr. Cotterel, Mr. Poyton, Mr. Gose, with several other gentlemen unknown to me, lost their lives with the earl of Sandwich, on board the Royal James; Mr. Vaughan, on board the Katherine, commanded by sir John Chicheley.

In this engagement, sir George Rook was youngest lieutenant to sir Edward Sprage; Mr. Russel, afterwards earl of Orford, was captain of a small fifth rate,

called the Phoenix; Mr. Herbert, afterwards earl of Torrington, was captain of a small fourth rate, called the Monck; sir Harry Dutton Colt, who was on board the Victory, commanded by the earl of Ossory, is the only man now living that I can remember was in this engagement.

But to proceed, the Dutch had one man-of-war sunk, though so near the shore, that I saw some part of her mainmast remain above water; with their admiral Van Ghent, who was slain in the close engagement with the earl of Sandwich. This engagement lasted fourteen hours, and was looked upon the greatest that ever was fought between the English and the Hollander.

I cannot here omit one thing, which to some may seem trifling; though I am apt to think our naturalists may have a different opinion of it, and find it afford their fancies no undiverting employment in more curious, and less perilous reflections. We had on board the London, where, as I have said, I was a volunteer, a great number of pigeons, of which our commander was very fond. These, on the first firing of our cannon, dispersed, and flew away, and were seen nowhere near us during the fight. The next day it blew a brisk gale, and drove our fleet some leagues to the southward of the place where they forsook our ship, yet the day after they all returned safe aboard; not in one flock, but in small parties of four or five at a time. Some persons at that time aboard the ship admiring at the manner of their return, and speaking of it with some surprise, sir Edward Sprage told them that he brought those pigeons with him from the Straits; and that when, pursuant to his order, he left the Revenge man-of-war, to go aboard the London, all those pigeons, of their own accord, and without the trouble or care of carrying, left the Revenge likewise, and removed with the sailors on board the London,

where I saw them: all which, many of the sailors afterwards confirmed to me. What sort of instinct this could proceed from, I leave to the curious.

Soon after this sea engagement I left the fleet. And the parliament, the winter following, manifesting their resentments against two of the plenipotentiaries, viz. Buckingham and Arlington, who had been sent over into Holland; and expressing, withal, their great umbrage taken at the prodigious progress of the French arms in the United Provinces; and warmly remonstrating the inevitable danger attending England in their ruin; King Charles from all this, and for want of the expected supplies, found himself under a necessity of clapping up a speedy peace with Holland.

This peace leaving those youthful spirits that had by the late naval war been raised into a generous ferment, under a perfect inactivity at home; they found themselves, to avoid a sort of life that was their aversion, obliged to look out for one more active, and more suitable to their vigorous tempers abroad.

I must acknowledge myself one of that number; and therefore in the year 1674 I resolved to go into Flanders, in order to serve as volunteer in the army commanded by his highness the prince of Orange. I took my passage accordingly at Dover for Calais, and so went by way of Dunkirk for Brussels.

Arriving at which place, I was informed that the army of the confederates lay encamped not far from Nivelle, and under the daily expectation of an engagement with the enemy. This news made me press forward to the service; for which purpose I carried along with me proper letters of recommendation to sir Walter Vane, who was at that time a major-general. Upon further inquiry I understood that a party of horse, which was to guard some waggons that were going to count Montery's army, were to set out next morning; so I got an Irish priest to introduce me to the commanding officer, which he readily obliged me in; and

they, as I wished them, arrived in the camp next day.

I had scarce been there an hour, when happened one of the most extraordinary accidents in life. I observed in the east a strange dusty coloured cloud, of a pretty large extent, riding (not before the wind, for it was a perfect calm) with such a precipitate motion, that it was got over our heads almost as soon as seen. When the skirts of that cloud began to cover our camp, there suddenly arose such a terrible hurricane, or whirlwind, that all the tents were carried aloft with great violence into the air; and soldiers' hats flew so high and thick, that my fancy can resemble it to nothing better than those flights of rooks, which at dusk of evening, leaving the fields, seek their roosting places. Trees were torn up by the very roots; and the roofs of all the barns, &c. belonging to the prince's quarters, were blown quite away. This lasted for about half an hour, until the cloud was wholly past over us, when as suddenly ensued the same pacific calm as before the cloud's approach. Its course was seemingly directly west; and yet we were soon after informed, that the fine dome of the great church at Utrecht had greatly affered by it the same day. And, if I am not much mistaken, sir William Temple, in his Memoirs, mentions somewhat of it, which he felt at Lillo, on his return from the prince of Orange's camp, where he had been a day or two before.

As soon after this as I could get an opportunity, I delivered, at his quarters, my recommendatory letters to sir Walter Vane; who received me very kindly, telling me at the same time, that there were six or seven English gentlemen, who had entered themselves volunteers in the prince's own company of guards; and added, that he would immediately recommend me to count Solmes, their colonel. He was not worse than his word, and I was entered accordingly. Those six gentlemen were as follows; Clavers, who since