Poems on Affairs of State

Renowned Blake, what Trumpet may be found,
That can thy matchless Praises duly sound;
Or what Seraphick Pen, that can set forth,
In fitting Measures thy transcendent Worth?
And justly warble forth in saddest Strains,
Thy Death, and Loss thereby the Land sustains?
Is that Sidneian Spirit, with his Dust,
Extinct? or for this mournful Subject must
Heroick Spencer, and that sweet Divine
Dubartas, rais'd be from their resting Shrine,
Thy signal unexampled Acts to sing,
Of which the whole World doth already ring?
Which if in order we must needs recount,
Our mean unpolish'd Quill they far surmount,
That to thy Merit we shall in debt remain,
So great a Sum not able to attain:
Leaving a richer Pen the same to pay,
Whilst in the common Stock our Mite we lay.

When first Bellona did fair Albion greet
With dreadful Larums in the open Street;
And when that high and Roman-like Dispute
Of the Militia, did in Field recruit
Two Armies, 'twixt the late unhappy King
And Parliament, from whence, as from a Spring,

275

Ran Seas of Blood throughout this Isle, which had
Drown'd all, but that Jehovah it forbad:
Commissions of Array are issu'd out,
Which do disturb the trembling Land throughout.
Blake now stands up without Delay or Fear,
'Gainst the Tyrannick Levies doth appear;
And with those noble Patriots of the West,
A Captain of stout Foot, himself addrest
With their associate Troops to march, and face
The Royal Forces, who with nimble pace
Quitting the Field, to Sherborne do retreat,
That antient Castle, Digby's stately Seat:
From thence are forc'd with tedious March to fly
To the Cornubian Mountains strong and high;
And there divided, some away do post,
Through swelling Severn to the Cambrian Coast,
And fenced Hills of Wales for shelter, where
Th'old Britains by the Romans chased were.

So after many signal Proofs shewn forth
Of his Heroick Prowess and true Worth,
At Bodmyn, Bristol, and at Lansdown Fight,
And at Bridgewater (where he first saw Light)
Tho by just Providence and Heaven's Decree,
We were deny'd a Conquest yet to see;
And Royal Charles did subjugate the West,
And two full Winters had the same possest.
He now arriveth to the Council great,
Thereof a Member, to consult and treat
Of State-Concernments (where sometimes did vote
His grave Progenitors, there to promote
The Common Good) and so with great Applause,
'Mongst other Worthies, he that Publick Cause,
'Twixt Prince and People then in high Debate,
Is call'd with Dint of Sword to vindicate:
And speedily on Neptune's Chariot sent,
Commander of a valiant Regiment,

276

Rais'd by stout Popham of illustrious Rank,
And timely landing on the Western Bank.

Born there, 1598.

I.

Lyme to relieve, that old Maritime Seat
By faithful Celey kept with hazard great,
Near gasping, as beleaguer'd strongly by
A Rhenish Prince's Army strong and high,
Form'd of all Nations, who like ravenous Bears,
Thirst after English Blood; whilst he prepares
Himself for Sallies, and thro Help Divine
The bold Assailants slays like Herds of Swine;
Prince Maurice still recruits, still is repel'd
With Loss of Thousands, and at last compel'd
To quit the Leaguer with his Princely Train,
Not daring fiery Lyme to face again.

II.

He having now paid to Jehovah High

1644.

His Vows and Thanks for his first Victory,
In Triumph hence doth march, bent to set free
The neighbouring Places that in Thraldom be,
(Assisted by stout Pye from Essex sent,
That Peer renown'd, in Arms so eminent)
To that strong Castle founded by King Ine,
Of Saxon Race, seated as 'twere on Rhine,
Or rather Eden sweet, a Land so blest,
Call'd vulgarly, the Garden of the West.
And herein yet more happy, that brave Blake,
His first Breath in this fertile Soil did take;
'Gainst this strong Hold, call'd Taunton, that fair Town,
(By high born Stawel kept) he sitteth down,
Soon forcing the Besieged to submit
To his Conditions; They forthwith do quit
A Princely Garison, stor'd plenteously
With all Provisions, here he worthily
Is now ordained Governour; but he,
As born to high Atchievements, will not be
Embas'd with Rest and Sloth, but prudently
Foresees approaching Storms; for suddenly

277

Great Forces under Wyndham are drawn out,
This growing Garison to quell and rout:
Whilst with few Men, but by him spirited,
And by his Fortitude and Wisdom led,
With Sallies strong, the potent Foe he plies,
That with great Loss, and greater Shame he flies.

III.

Yet here the Royal Party will not rest,
But fresh Alarums do him still infest:
On sudden, lo, a formidable Host,
Commanded by the Chieftains, and the most
Stout Greenvil, Goring, Hopton, breathing out
Nought else but Fire and Sword the Camp throughout.
Here might you hear the Irish Tories thunder
More hideous Threats than Cannon, that asunder
The Castle seem'd to rend: Lo like a Flood,
Great Multitudes have broke the Line, now Blood
Is like to dye fair Tone, or rather make
New Rivers in the Streets, all lies at stake;
Women and Children, nought but ghastly Death
Beholding, and half dead do gasp for Breath.
Yet here great Wonders wrought by those

May 1645.

Tauntonian Blades, the overflowing Foes
Are bravely check'd, and stopped at a Bay,
And forc'd to fight at Pistol-shot by day
And night, from house to house, until the Foe
Repuls'd, such Fury could not undergo.
Now are made good the words sometimes he spake,
By Inches they their bloody way should make;
And yet poor Souls, have lost their way at last,
As into Darkness and Confusion cast.

And when that Goring sent to him in scorn
A tatter'd Drum (best suting their forlorn
Condition) for exchange of Pris'ners, he
Them kindly treats, and quickly sets them free;
And like himself, or like that Grecian Prince,
The falling Foe with Kindness doth convince:

278

This one Exchange doth to the other add,
Returns the Nuncio with new Raiment clad.

Yea to their great astonishment, upon
Their taking of a neighbouring Garison,
Insulting proudly with great Threats and Jeers,
The Church's Bells he ringeth in their Ears,
And thereby quickly checks their Pride and Rage,
Of their ensuing Fall a sad Presage.

Redoubted Weldon lo, that Man of Kent,
With seasonable Succour hither sent,
From th'Hills appears: The harass'd Foe again
Doth raise the Siege, and fairly leaves his Slain
By thousands to their Mother Earth, to feed
The hungry Worms, which look'd before indeed
For other Flesh, whilst Mercy with strong Hands,
Out of the raging Fire pulls us as Brands.

IV.

The Kingly Forces never rest nor cease
From their implacate Wrath, which doth increase,
Still hotly thirsting for the Blood of those,
Who merely in their own Defence arose.
Fresh Armies now are levied, to pull down
The haughty Courage of the sturdy Town,
By a third Siege more dreadful than the rest,
Which kindles Flames of Valour in the Breast
Of this stout Hector, made for Dangers great,
Like that great Greek that did Darius beat.
Here Goring chief Commander vows to lay
His Bones, or not retreat or march away,
Till that proud Castle were reduc'd, just then
When Naseby Battel wavering stood, and when
He straitly summon'd was by Royal Call
To aid his King on that Day Vertical.
The gallant Governour well knowing all
These Passages, together he doth call
His Captains, cheers his warlike Boys, who like
Lions fall on, and with Amazement strike

279

The Royalists, whose stout Heart will not yield,
Till master'd by a stouter in the Field.

Here now that joyful Sound of Naseby-fight
Was heard, like sweetest Musick for delight:
After sad Thunder-cracks let England sing
Still that appealing Victory, and bring
Fresh Laurels to adorn that glorious Field,
Whilst to th'Almighty we due Praises yield.
Now Noble Fairfax doth victoriously
March to relieve the Western Parts, that lie
Opprest; the same at once relieves, and meets
Another Conquest in brave Taunton Streets,
Atchiev'd by Blake, who solemn Thanks ordains
Unto the Highest, who for ever reigns.

V.

And now to march forthwith he doth prepare
To Dunster, that strong towring Castle, where
The wasting Pestilence of late did rage,

April 1646.

Which God was pleas'd on his approach t'asswage.
The Foes great Obstinacy did him move
To spring a Mine; the lofty Walls above
Mount in the Air, some dead, some living are
In those great Heaps blown up, the Fruits of War;
At length dear Blake to thee they did resign
This Castle, by Rendition now made thine.

Thro Heav'ns fair Aspect now, auspicious Peace
Begins to spring, and flagrant Arms to cease;
To that great Senate he from bloody Fights
Returns, there to assert the Peoples Rights:
And he that was a Warriour stout of late,
Doth now consult of arduous things of State;
Well hoping in the end the Sword to see
Into a pruning Hook might turned be.

VI.

But lo, sad Rumours from the British Main,
Our Fleet revolted is, which doth a Train

1649.

Of Troubles new, and great Combustions breed;
For our great Sins a just vindictive Meed:

280

Now this Brave Senator must once again
Harness himself, more Honour yet to gain,
For his great Merit elected General:
And as the first Fruits of this publick Call,
Those Princely Pirates from Kingsale doth rout,
Rupert and Maurice both, two Princes stout;

July.

From thence he to th'Herculean Straits do's chase
These German Exiles, who from place to place
Pursu'd within th'Hetrurian Seas (which do
The Worlds Terrestrial Globe divide in two)
Are forced with their winged Fleet to fly
Unto the Caribean Isles, to lie
At Mercy of the Deep, and on that Coast
The greatest part of those great Ships, yea most
Of those seduced Souls with Maurice sink,
As Lead in mighty Waters (sad to think!)

VII.

He now for Tagus Banks do's steer his Fleet,

1650.

And with his thundring Squadrons Lisbon greet,
Which did the English so much wrong of late,
And for it must account unto the State.
Mean while those rich Brasilian Ships arrive,
Which with nine others outward bound do strive
Him to escape in vain, near all made Prize
By his successful Fleet, who like a wise
As well as gallant Captain, by his Care
For this great Spoil a Convoy doth prepare.
With this mellifluous Trophy from Brazil,
Which with its sweetness did all England fill,
In Triumph homewards he his Course doth bend,
Where Publick Service doth him still attend.
Yea to his Praise this may recorded be,
That as the End of War is Peace, so he
(After full Reparation by them made
To th'English) did restore both Peace and Trade.

281

VIII.

A famous Island, and of great Import
To England, startled with the loud Report
Of his amazing Actions, trembling stands:
To this strong Isle begirt with Rocks and Sands
He sails, and Greenvil summons (that stout Knight,
Then Chief Commander there) the State to right
By his Surrender, or he must be sure
The Fury of his valiant Arm endure.
Whilst Trump then hovering with his Fleet in vain
Solicits with vast Sums the same to gain;
At length upon Blake's sight he doth retreat,
Or rather fly: By this Commander great,
Now Scilly is reduced to the State,
And Joy of English Merchants, who of late
Could not for fear of this new Dunkirk trade,
So rich and high by warlike Plundrings made.

IX.

Impregnate Dunkirk once our Friend, but now
Our Foe, if Noble, will with Homage bow
To him, as 'twere once holding in his Hands
The Scales of France and Spain on either Sands:
As Umpire he decides and weighs the Town
Freely to Spain, for England's great Renown.
Tho that Ledean Marquiss did him treat,
And him caress'd in vain with Presents great:
Yet not without a rich and glorious Prize
As unto them, so to himself, whose wise
And gallant Conduct six stout Ships did seize,
No less than Princes stile we two of these;
Great Neptune with his triple Scepter dread,
Princess Maria eke with Crowned Head,
All captive led by this great Admiral,
Which did the Conquer'd French so much appal.

282

X.

Nor can we Jersey Isle in Silence pass,
So near a Hostile Coast that seated was,
And by a mighty Monarch then protected,
From his black Storms, yet was by him subjected:
Which France beholding from her lofty Strand,
At such portentous Acts doth trembling stand,
And seeing Holland since in humble wise
Strike to our Flag, her Peace of England buys.

XI.

He yet engag'd is in more dreadful Fights,

1652.

Which all the World on every Coast afrights:
New Fires of War betwixt two Protestant
And Neighbour Nations kindled are, which want
Not Rome's Fomenters; which the British, French,
And the Batavian Seas could hardly quench:
That Thunder-striking and Dutch Admiral,
Which Scilly late did court; that Hannibal,
With fair Pretexts, attempteth to surprize
Our Royal Downs, a Sore unto his Eyes.
Our watchful Scipio, now in the Great James,
By him made greater soon appears, and tames
The Belgick Lion, with his roaring Whelps.
Tho three to one, the Lord of Hosts still helps
Such as on him in just Appeals depend,
And to that righteous Judg their Cause commend.

XII.

Our new made Foe now beaten hence we see,

1652.

Whose Fate pursues them, humbled more to be:
The boundless Love of Trade, transports on post
These famous Merchants to th'Orcadian Coast,
To force our Caledonian Fishes there,
Of whose Bones, as they bruit, first founded were
The Walls of Amsterdam, that Magazine
On Texel Banks, which to their Fleet hath been.
He with his Eagle Fleet soon them pursues,
Their num'rous Men of War sinks and subdues,

283

The Busses takes; the one his Justice feels,
The other tasts his Mercy: hence he wheels
His winged Frigots, when our antient Right
He had restor'd by his unconquer'd Might,
And so with Shoutings homeward sails, where lo
More dismal Actions he must undergo.

XIII.

And shall we Portland name, a Portland Fight,

Febr. 1652.

Where mortal Wound first seiz'd this noble Wight?
Yet to his Glory; where behold, the High
And Mighty States brought low, he gallantly
Triumphing sails thro Seas of Belgick Blood,
Tho wounded, whilst the Sun eclipsed stood;
Thro that black Storm, and that tempestuous Fight
Three Winters days (like a continual Night)
Which lasted, whilst that he the Day to gain,
Doth in his grisly Wounds on Deck remain,
As in Triumphal Chair, would not retire
For his more speedy Cure; but is on fire,
And thereby with new Courage doth inflame
His English Trojans, to their lasting Fame,
But terror of the Foe, who now o'erthrown
Post homewards, there this fatal Blow to moan.
But stay, my Muse, here Noble Monk we must
And Gallant Dean salute with Honour just,
His brave Compeers, whose Gallantry shown here,
Posterity in Leaves of Fame may hear.

XIV.

And after some small Interval of Rest,

June 1653.

Scarce cur'd he buckles for the last Contest
Against the Dutch, tho much impaired by
His Martial Hurts received formerly;
Inducing him to say, he was more fit
For some sick Hospital than brave De Wit
And valiant Trump to fight: yet he again,
With Mind above his Strength, and not in vain,

284

Takes Neptune's Field, and on the Flemish Flood
Relieves Brave Dean and Monk engag'd in Blood;
Whose valiant Acts and high Atchievements then
In that sharp Fight, deserve a golden Pen.
The English Standard then by Blake display'd
In Laureate Essex, finds the Foe dismay'd.

Here now in Sight of both the Nations, you
Great Earthquakes on each Shore might sadly view,
Made by those horrid Thunders which did quell
Their Navy, where their chiefest Pillar fell;
With whose dear Blood the greatest Victory
Was gained by our Fleet, for that hereby
'Twixt antient Friends is wrought a lasting Peace,
For mutual Commerce, and their Joys encrease:
His former Wish he now fulfill'd doth see,
So often by him mention'd, that as he
The Tragick Prologue of this War hath seen,
So might a happy Period, which hath been
Accomplish'd in his Eyes: Let Spain and Rome
Hence read with Grief and Rage their fatal Doom.

Old Van Trump kill'd.

XV.

And now we see the Seat of ghastly War

Decemb. 1654.

Remov'd from home to foreign Countries far,
Unto a wrathful Foe inveterate,
Whose Character in bloody Lines bear date
From Eighty eight; and so unwearied Blake
Plows up the Southern Seas, his way to make,
And in those boistrous Floods to him well known
Before proud Cadiz Strand, as on on his own,
One Winter full did ride, which Drake did never,
Nor Hawkins, or brave Forbisher endeavour,
Nor yet the hardy Dutch, (whose proper Seat
And Element is in the Waters great)
Did e'er assay, tho all the World abroad,
And both the Indies be their common Road.

285

XVI.

Prroud Malaga, how was thy roaring Mouth

1655.

Muzled by him, the Terror of the South,
When thy strong Mould was seiz'd, thy thundring Guns
Speekt up, and all the Town afrighted runs?
Thy warlike Fleet, tho scaping Storms and Winds
Abroad, no Harbour in thy Harbours finds;
But are destroy'd all in thy smoking Bay,
Unto his fiery Engines made a Prey.

XVII.

How suddenly doth Vigo now bemoan
The like Disaster with a howling Tone?
When Vulcan, Mars, and Neptune all conspire
Her Merchants and her Men of War by Fire
And Sword to spoil: Whilst he doth leave the Port
And Ships all flaming in prodigious sort.

XVIII.

Yea Tunis, that old punick City, quakes,

1655.

And at great distance strong Alarum takes,
As tho the Roman Legions on their Shoar
Appear'd: The Turks are summon'd to restore
Our English Goods and Captives, but refuse,
And therefore must expect no other News
Than Cannon Peals, whilst he doth seize their Port,
And charge the Infidels up to their Fort.
Twelve stately Ships of War behold in Flames
Consuming are, whereby he quickly tames
Their Cham-like Spirit by his unconquer'd Power,
Whilst raging Fires the Vessels do devour.

The poor Mahometans do trembling fly
From their strong Holds to Mountains that were nigh;
Whence like so many Fiends of blackest hue,
(With scaring horrid Faces) they might view,
In those sulphureous fiery Streams below,
A new Gehenna, to their greater woe.
A Day so dark, the Ottomanian fear'd
A fall, and th'horned Moon in Blood appear'd,

286

That old Republick, and brave Virgin City,
Ne'er ravish'd yet by warlike Foe, tho pity
So Romanized; that Virago stout,
Which at Lepanto Fight the Turks did rout;
Fair Venice now with Shouts doth gratulate
The English African, who now in State
From his late Conquest saileth by their Shoar,
Where loudest Trumpets sound, where Cannons roar;
(Leading his ransom'd ones, the Christian Slaves,
From Turkish Yoke rescu'd as from their Graves)
As if Triumphant Cæsar were in Sight,
Returning now from the Pharsalian Fight.

He leaving these poor Caitiffs to lament
This doleful Loss, for more Exploits is bent.

XIX.

But where was now the Iberian God, that should

1656.

Protect those Galleons huge, so fraught with Gold?
That the Peruvian Mines exhaust were near,
The golden Age again seem'd to appear.
Was Baal journying then or else asleep,
So great a Treasure could no better keep?
Or did that Babylonish Prince now hope
To be install'd fifth Monarch by the Pope?
And build a new Escurial for so high
A Majesty? Lo all triumphantly,
In Streams of Spanish Blood near Cadiz Sands,
Doth flow into those still victorious Hands
Of him, and Noble Montague, his dear
Collegue, now honour'd to convoy and steer
This Princely Prize, and Treasure so immense
Bound for th'Elysian Thames, design'd from thence
A Present only for a Sovereign meet,
A Conqueror of Kings, whom now we greet;
A greater than that Macedonian Prince,
Or any Hero that hath e'er been since;
For he did mostly barbarous Foes defeat,
This the most civil, warlike, truly great,

287

With greatest joy uniting Nations three
By threefold Cord, not ever like to be
Dissolv'd, ne'er yet so firm in any Age,
One Law, one Faith, one Blood, which may presage
Fair Halcion days; our British Annals may
Cromwel the Great we'll stile him from this day.
The midland Seas which many Years him knew,
And Tribute to him paid, bids now adieu
To this European Ajax; ne'er again
The like to see, while Sun and Moon remain.

XX.

The Islands falsly called Fortunate,
Do trembling gaze at their approaching Fate.
And where's a Homer now, that fully may
His last stupendious Act to life pourtray?
A Theme as Noble as the Trojan Story,
Which fill'd all Pens and Ages with its Glory.

He now against this Scarlet Whore of Rome,
As born to execute the Written Doom,
And as inspir'd (from all Fear exempt)
The grand Canarian Cross he doth attempt,
Which had the Indian Mines some few days past
Near drain'd, and now possest those Treasures vast:
Twice eight great warlike Ships he doth assail,
And up unto the Castle Walls doth sail;
All that great Fleet, those mighty Galleons, he
With golden Argos burneth (sad to see)
In those huge Bonfires made a Sacrifice
Unto the Bacchanalian God: Whose Eyes
Dim waxed to behold the Ocean wide
By those Ætnean Fires almost dry'd,
To see such Flames, and unheard Thunders hear,
That Sancta Cruz, and all the Isle did fear
On that black Day the World would be dissolv'd,
And in another Chaos be involv'd.
The Dolphins by those flashy clatterings scar'd,
From their own proper Region are debar'd,

288

And forc'd to fall into a watry Hell,
Their sad Exile there to bewail and tell.

The frighted Foot, which from the lined Strand
Saw Seas of Blood, now will no longer stand,
But from those fenced Walls and Bulwarks strong,
To lofty Teneriff did run, among
The craggy Rocks and Caves themselves to hide,
Such blasting Storms not able to abide.
What ailed thee, great Mountain and proud Peek,
That shelter for thy self thou now didst seek?
Who to thy forlorn Fugitives should be
A Sanctuary, when they fled to thee.
Why didst thou quake, sky-daring Mount, so high,
That into Heaven thou presum'st to pry?
From the Creation, seeming to be fixt
Above the middle Region, and there mixt
Amongst the Stars, from fiery Meteors free.
Or didst thou fear, that now fulfill'd should be
That sacred Prophecy? That by the Power
Of Faith remov'd, the Seas should thee devour?
Those Indian Silver-Mines, and Wealth so vast
For Spanish Cræsus hither sent, are fast
In durance kept, and like to perish here,
Made useless to their Masters, or in fear
Of English Frigots, that perhaps may seize
Those Golden Heaps, if they appear on Seas.

XXI.

Hence fully fraught with Glory, now he steers
His course for Sally (where he soon appears)
That little Egypt, and most doleful Cell,
Which held some of our English Israel
In Bonds; he maketh there a Noble Peace,
And freely doth the Christian Slaves release:
Whence gone, he takes another glorious Spoil,
Still Providence on his Designs doth smile.

289

XXII.

A little Army of Canarian Dons,

1657.

From th'Indies come, he taketh, now in Bonds
Attending this great Victor, to perform
Their Obsequies to him in solemn Form;
Who, after thousand Storms, to which enur'd
He was, and noble Wounds by him endur'd,
Of which he languish'd, now return'd in Peace
To English Port, did there alas decease,
Yet gloriously, where he did sacrifice
For us his dearest Blood, Death's great Prize;
When many hundreds he had ta'ne of late,
Now to a Royal Chappel brought in State,
For his Devotion ye'rst to him well known,
Amongst the Kings inter'd, and near to one,
That Prince of Peace, which join'd in Hymen's Band
The two divided Houses of our Land.

If now some British Plutarch, kindly prest
With Love of Vertue sparkling in his Breast,
Should in Historick Stile limm out this Brave
And English Aristides, and from Grave
Redeem his Memory; for his Renown,
This one thing more (his worthy Deeds to crown)
May added be, the Glory of them all,
That during those long Wars, wherein the fall
Of thousands he beheld, as many rise
To Fortunes high, (true Valours Meed and Prize)
Yet he postponing with Heroick Zeal,
His private Interest to the publick Weal,
Himself would not advance by those vast Spoils,
Still him attending from those bloody Broils,
(Tho Millions seiz'd by his Conduct, so skill'd
In Arms and Counsel, the English Coffers fill'd)
Who with his Native portion well content,
For his dear Countrys good was gladly spent.

What Marble Pile, what Monument for thee,
Great Britain's Shield, Spain's Scourge, now rais'd shall be?

290

That may our English Heroes animate,
Thy matchless Worth (brave Blake) to emulate;
And to succeeding Times eternize may
Thy Name, and thee entitle from this day
A Saint devout, for Learning Socrates,
A Cato Just, for Valour Hercules.

And thou Great Oliver, thy Sword gird on:
Ride forth and prosper, Truth's great Champion,
Against that Romish Beast; Jehovah send
Such Leaders still, thy high Designs t'attend:
That so that Glorious Work, advanc'd so far
Against proud Babel, by a Holy War,
Under thy Conduct may yet farther thrive,
And to perfection in the end arrive;
Yea crowned with this Epinicion be,
Great Babylon is fall'n, and that by Thee.

University of Virginia Library

The Life and Actions of that Valiant Hero Robert Blake Esq;

General of the Fleets of the Commonwealth of England, from the Year 1649. to 1657. when he died in Plimouth Sound much lamented.

An Historical Poem.

I.

II.