Chapter VI: Part II: 319 (6)

The poet is here more modest than the court of England, who claimed an absolute victory. Ralph says, with some justice, that "to recount the precise issue of this unparalleled engagement, and ascertain the loss on either side, seems to be alike impossible. Both nations claimed the honour of the victory, and both affronted the Common Father of the Universe with their impious acknowledgments, when they ought to have approached Him in sackcloth and ashes, for having wantonly sacrificed so many innocent, gallant, and meritorious men, in a dispute that common sense, and common honesty, might have adjusted in half an hour." _History_, Vol. I. p. 132. De Witt himself, the sworn foe of England, bore the following remarkable testimony to the gallantry of her seamen: "If the English were beat, their defeat did them more honour than all their former victories. No fleet but theirs could, after the first day's fight, have been brought to engage again. English men may be killed, English ships may be burned, but English courage is invincible." Quoted, in the "Lives of the Admirals," from a MS. history by Wicquefort.

Note XXIX.

_Returned, he with the fleet resolved to stay;
No tender thoughts of home his heart divide;
Domestic joys and cares he puts away,
For realms are households, which the great must guide._

St. 138. p. 129.

The Duke of Albemarle was not more remarkable for bravery in action, than for his hatred of all corrupt practices in paying and victualling the navy. His presence accelerated the necessary repairs, while the sternness of his discipline repressed all those hateful peculations, by which the servants of the public sometimes betray their trust, and sap her dearest bulwark. The satirist alludes to this in the following lines, which he puts in the mouth of the Duchess of Albemarle, hailing her husband's return to port:

Well, George, in spite of them, there safe dost ride,
Lessened in nought, I hope, but thy backside;
For, as to reputation, this retreat
Of thine exceeds their victories so great;
Nor shalt thou stir from thence, by my consent,
Till thou hast made the Dutch and them repent.

* * * * *

Fall to thy work there, George, as I do here;
Cherish the valiant up, cowards cashier:
See that the men have pay, and beef, and beer.
Find out the cheats of the four millioneer,--
Out of the very beer they sell the malt,
Powder of pow der, from powder'd beef the salt.
Put thy hand to the tub;--instead of ox,
They victual with French pork that hath the p--.
Never such cotqueens by small arts to wring;
Ne'er such ill huswives in the managing;
Pursers at sea know fewer cheats than they;
Mariners on shore less madly spend their pay.
See that thou hast new sails thyself, and spoil
All their sea-market, and their cable coil.
Look that good chaplains on each ship do wait,
Nor the sea-diocese be impropriate:
Look to the sick and wounded prisoners; all
Is prize,--they even rob the hospital:
Recover back the prizes too; in vain
We fight, if all be taken that is ta'en.

_Instructions to a Painter._

Note XXX.

_As those who unripe veins in mines explore,
On the rich bed again the warm turf lay,
Till time digest the yet imperfect ore,
And know it will be gold another day._
St. 139. p. 129.

It was believed by the ancient chemists, that gold (the noblest of metals) was formed in the earth by a sort of chemical process, and might be detected in an imperfect state; in which case the miner's only resource was to close up the vein, and leave Nature to perfect the great work. It was this rooted and inveterate belief which caused so many to give faith to the fable of alchemy. For, if gold was thus gradually formed in the veins of the earth, the alchemist had only to discover the process which Nature pursued in her task, and he obtained the grand secret.

Note XXXI.

_The goodly London, in her gallant trim,
The Phœnix-daughter of the vanished old._
St. 151. p. 131.

The former vessel, called the London, had been destroyed by fire. The city now built a new vessel, under the name of the Loyal London, and presented her as a free gift to Charles. This ship was a favourite theme of the poets of the day:

Whether by chance or plot the London died,
She'll rise the Loyal London purified.
That child, which doth from loyal parents spring,
May brag that he's the godson of a king.

* * * * *

No sooner was blown out the London, when
London took breath, and blew her in again.

Another bard not only compares the ship to the city from which she derived her name, but proves the captain to be the Lord Mayor, with this slight difference, that he carries his own sword, instead of having a sword-bearer to take that trouble. The passage occurs in a "Poem upon his Majesty's late declarations for toleration, and publication of war against the Hollander, by T. S. of Grey's Inn, Esq."

The Loyal London follows next to these;
Some call her the metropolis of seas,
About whose walls not Thames but seas now cling,
Wondering to see a city thus on wing.
Venice no more shall Neptune's darling be,
That stays ashore while this pursues the sea;
Here valiant Spragge (like the Lord Mayor) appears,
Only this difference--Spragge his own sword bears,
My lord's supported is by other hands;
This rules the sea, while t'other rules the lands:
Nor is there wanting to increase his state
A cap of maintenance; since his sober pate
Still to his active hands commends advice,
'Tis happy to be valiant and wise.

This second London had also the ill hap to perish by fire, being burned by the Dutch, in the disgraceful surprise of Chatham, 1667.

Note XXXII.

_O truly royal! who behold the law,
And rule of Beings in your Maker's mind._
St. 166. p. 134.

In this and the preceding stanza, our author, from the improved arts of ship-building and navigation, is led to compliment the Royal Society, then newly instituted, of which he was himself a member.

Note XXXIII.

_Already were the Belgians on our coast._--St. 168. p. 134.

Notwithstanding the exertions made by Charles and his ministers, and celebrated with such minuteness by the poet, the Dutch fleet, which needed fewer repairs, was first at sea, and their admirals braved the coast of England, dating letters and dispatches, "From the fleet in the mouth of the river of London." The English were about a fortnight behind their enemies in preparation, owing chiefly to the difficulty of manning their fleet.

Note XXXIV.

_Old expert Allen, loyal all along, Famed for his action on the Smyrna fleet._ St. 172. p. 135.

Sir Thomas Allen, vice-admiral of the White, and, as I believe, an old cavalier, opened the war by an action of some consequence in the Mediterranean. With a squadron of eight or nine ships, he attacked the Dutch homeward-bound Smyrna fleet, near Cadiz; consisting of forty merchant vessels, many of which were in these days capable of a stout resistance, and a convoy of four ships of war. Allen defeated them totally, killed their commodore, Brackel, took or sunk four of their richest ships, and drove the rest into the bay of Cadiz. He commanded the van in the engagement of July 25, 1666.

Note XXXV.

_Holmes, the Achates of the general's fight;
Who first bewitched our eyes with Guinea gold._
St. 173. p. 135.

Sir Robert Holmes, rear-admiral of the White, is called the General's Achates, from the eager fidelity with which he supported Albemarle. The injuries which the African company sustained from the Dutch, and particularly their taking Cape Corfe Castle, had occasioned Sir Robert Holmes' being dispatched to the coast of Guinea in 1661, for the purpose of making reprisals. Having done them some damage on this visit, he returned for the same purpose in 1663; when he took Goree, and the Dutch merchant-men lying there, of whom he made prize, though the nations were not actually at war. He was repulsed from St George Del Mina, the chief of the Dutch forts on the coast of Africa, but was successful in taking Cape Corfe, the principal object of his voyage. He also took from the Dutch a colony in North America, called Nova Belgia, and bestowed on it the present name of New York. The Dutch preferred a heavy complaint against Holmes, for these warlike aggressions. But it would appear, that, if he had exceeded his instructions, he had not disobliged those by whom they were given; for, although he was committed to the Tower, he was speedily liberated, upon pleading, that he had found, on board a Dutch prize, instructions to seize the English fort at Coromantin.

Note XXXVI.

_With him went Spragge, as bountiful as brave,
Whom his high courage to command had brought._
St. 174. p. 135.

Sir Edward Spragge, knighted by King Charles, for his gallant behaviour on the 3d of June 1665, was one of the best and bravest officers whom the English navy (_Leonum Nutrix_) has ever produced. He distinguished himself in the battle of four days, already celebrated; and in that of the 25th of July, which Dryden is proceeding to detail, he carried a flag under Sir Jeremiah Smith, admiral of the Blue. The brunt of the battle fell upon this division, because, itself the weakest, it was encountered by that of Van Tromp, the strongest and best manned squadron of the enemy. Spragge afterwards distinguished himself by defending Sheerness, and by chastising the Algerines. But the last scene of his life crowned all his naval achievements. In the battle of the 11th of August 1672, Tromp and he engaged like personal enemies, so that the conflict resembled less a chance rencontre in the confusion of battle, than a fixed and appointed duel between these admirals. Both were forced to shift their flag aboard other vessels, and instantly renewed with the utmost fury their individual contest. In shifting his flag for the second time, a chance cannon-ball pierced Sir Edward Spragge's barge, and that gallant admiral was drowned, to the grief, it is said, of Tromp, his generous enemy. He left behind him, according to the account both of friends and foes, the character of one of the bravest men and best commanders who ever fought at sea; nor was he less lamented by his friends on shore, for those civilized manners, and that gentle disposition, which almost always attend enlightened valour.

Note XXXVII.

_Harman, who did twice-fired Harry save,
And in his burning ship undaunted fought._--St. 174. p. 135.

This alludes to an exploit of Sir John Harman, who commanded the Henry in the four days combat. He belonged to the Blue squadron, which broke through the Dutch fleet; but, the Swiftsure and Essex being taken, his single vessel had great part of the Zealand division to contend with.--"His ship being disabled, the Dutch Admiral, Evertz, called to Sir John, and offered him quarter, who answered, 'No, sir, it is not come to that yet,' and immediately discharged a broadside; by which Evertz was killed, and several of his ships damaged, which so discouraged their captains, that they quitted the Henry, and sent three fire-ships to burn her. The first grappled on her starboard quarters, and there began to arise so thick a smoke, that it was impossible to perceive where the irons were fixed. At last, when the ship began to blaze, the boatswain of the Henry threw himself on board of it, discovered, and removed the grappling irons, and in the same instant, jumped on board his own ship. He had scarce done this, before another fire-ship was fixed on the larboard; this did its business so effectually, that the sails were quickly on fire, which frightened the chaplain and fifty men over board. Upon this, Sir John drew his sword, and threatened to kill any man who should attempt to provide for his own safety, by leaving the ship. This obliged them to endeavour to put out the fire, which in a short time they did; but the cordage being burned, the crossbeam fell down, and broke Sir John's leg; at which instant, the third fire-ship bore down, but four pieces of cannon, laden with chain-shot, disabled her. So that, after all, Sir John brought his ship into Harwich, where he repaired her as well as he could; and, notwithstanding his broken leg, put to sea again to seek the Dutch."[207]

Note XXXVIII.

_Young Hollis, on a muse by Mars begot,
Born, Cæsar-like, to write and act great deeds:
Impatient to revenge his fatal shot,
His right hand doubly to his left succeeds._--St. 175. p. 135.

Sir Frescheville Hollis, mentioned in this verse, was the son of Frescheville Hollis, of Grimsby, by his second wife, Mrs Elizabeth Molesworth. His father signalized himself in the civil wars, as appears from a sign manual of Charles II., dated Jersey, December 4th, 1649, authorising him to bear, _or, two piles gules_, quarterly, with his paternal coat, and setting forth,--that in parliament he strenuously asserted the king's prerogative; and, being colonel of a regiment in time of the rebellion, behaved with exemplary valour against the rebels, in the several battles of Kenton, Banbury, Brantford, Newark, Atherton, Bradford, and Newbury; and when the rebels had possessed themselves of the chief places of England, he with no less fortitude engaged with those that were besieged by them in Colchester.

How Sir Frescheville Hollis' 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

---- ---- metaphor of man,
Got on a muse by Father Publican:
For 'tis not harder much if we tax nature,
That lines should give a poet such a feature,
Than that his verse a hero should us shew,
Produced by such a feat, as famous too.

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, a circumstance alluded to in the verses. He was Rear-Admiral 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 Southwould 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-of-war, 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, &c. page 74_.

Note XXXIX.

_Now van to van the foremost squadrons meet,
The midmost battles hastening up behind_.--St. 186. p. 137.

The particulars of the memorable engagement, thus introduced and described in the following stanzas, are thus narrated in the "Lives of the Admirals." Vol. 11.

"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 Kœnders, 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 vice-admiral'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 then cannonaded again, when de Ruyter found himself so hard pressed, and his fleet in such eminent 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."

Note XL.

_O famous leader of the Belgian fleet,
Thy monument inscribed such praise shall wear,
As Varro, timely flying, once did meet,
Because he did not of his Rome despair_.--St. 194. p. 139.

Michael Adrien de Ruyter, a gallant and successful admiral, was born in 1607, chosen lieutenant-admiral of the States in 1666, and died in 1676, being mortally wounded in an engagement with the French in Sicily. Dryden compares him to Terentius Varro, who commanded the Romans at the battle of Cannæ, and to whom, after that dreadful defeat, the senate voted their thanks,--"_Quia de Republica non desperasset._"

Note XLI.

_Then let them know, the Belgians did retire
Before the patron saint of injured Spain._
St. 197. p. 139.

The battle was fought on the 25th of July, which is the day of St James, the tutelar saint of Spain. From this circumstance, the poet takes an opportunity, in the following stanzas, to inculcate a political doctrine, which the war with Holland and France had rendered fashionable. It contains an impeachment of the policy of Queen Elizabeth, who, by supporting the Netherlands against Philip of Spain, laid, as our author contends, the foundation for rebellion, and the establishment of a republic in England. The power of the Spanish monarchy, the poet avers, was slower in its growth, and a less reasonable object of jealousy to the English, than the more active and energetic governments of France and Holland.

Note XLII.

_But whate'er English to the blessed shall go,
And the fourth Henry or first Orange meet,
Find him disowning of a Bourbon foe,
And him detesting a Batavian fleet._
St. 201. p. 140.

The poet here follows up the doctrine he has laid down, by a very bold averment, that Henry IV. of France, and the first Prince of Orange, instructed in sound policy by their translation to the blessed, would, the one disown the war against Henry III. into which he was compelled to enter to vindicate his right of succession to the crown against the immediate possessor, and the other detest the Dutch naval power, although the only means which could secure his country's independence.

Note XLIII.

_Nor was this all: in ports and roads remote,
Destructive fires among whole fleets we send;
Triumphant flames upon the waters float,
And out-bound ships at home their voyage end._
St. 204. p. 140.

Immediately after the battle of the 25th, the victorious fleet of England sailed for the Dutch coast, to attack the islands of Vlie and Schelling; for which purpose, a squadron, well manned, and with a sufficient number of fire-ships, was detached under the command of Sir Robert Holmes. "On the 8th of July, about seven in the morning, this squadron weighed, divided from the rest of the fleet, and came to anchor about a league from the Buoys, where they met the prince's pleasure-boat, called the Fanfan, who had discovered in the harbour a considerable number of ships near the Vlie, which proved to be 170 merchant-ships, the least of which was not less than 200 ton burden, with two men of war, which had lately conveyed near a hundred of the aforesaid ships from the northward, homeward-bound, some from the Straits, some from Guinea, some from Russia, some from the East countries; the rest were outward-bound ships, all of which likewise were very richly laden.

"Sir Robert Holmes, considering that, if he should proceed, as his design was first, to attempt a descent upon the land, that numerous fleet might possibly pour in such numbers of men, as might render the success hazardous, resolved to begin with the ships; and, accordingly, having ordered the Advice and the Hampshire to lie without the Buoys, he weighed with the rest of his fleet; and, the wind being contrary, he turned, with much ado, into Schelling road, where the Tyger came to anchor, and immediately Sir Robert went on board the Fanfan, and hoisted his flag, upon which the officers came on board him, and there it was ordered that the Pembroke, which drew the least water, with the fire-ships, should fall in amongst the enemy's fleet, with what speed they could. Captain Brown, with his fire-ships, chose very bravely to lay the biggest man of war aboard, and burned him downright. Another fire-ship, running up at the same time to the other man of war, he, backing his sails, escaped the present execution of the fire-ship, but so as to run himself by it on ground, where he was presently taken by some of the long-boats, and fired. The other three fire-ships clapped the three great merchant-men on board, which carried flags in their main-tops, and burned them. This put their fleet into great confusion, which Sir Robert Holmes perceiving, made a signal for all the officers to come on board again, and presently gave orders that Sir William Jennings, with all the boats that could be spared, should take the advantage, and fall in, sink, burn, and destroy all they could, but with a strict command that they should not plunder. The execution was so well followed, each captain destroying his share, some twelve, some fifteen merchant-men, that, of the whole fleet, there escaped not above eight or nine ships, one of which was a Guinea man of war, of 24 guns, and three small privateers. These ships, being driven up into a narrower corner of the stream, served to protect four or five merchant men that were a-head of them, where it was not possible for our boats to come at them, though even these few were much damaged.

"The next day, being the 10th of August, it was found more expedient to land upon the coast of Schelling, than upon Vlie, which was performed by Sir Robert Holmes, with eleven companies, in his long-boats, and he landed with little or no opposition. When he came on shore, he left one company to secure his boats, and with the other ten marched three miles up into the country, to the capital town, called Brandaris, in which there were upwards of a thousand fine houses; where, keeping five companies upon the skirt of the town, to prevent any surprise of the enemy, he sent the other five to set fire to the place: But, finding them somewhat slow to execute that order, and fearing they might be tempted to forget themselves in the pillage, he was himself forced to set fire to some houses to the windward, the sooner to dispatch the work, and hasten his men away, which burned with such violence, that in half an hour's time most part of the town was in a light flame. This place was reported, by those who were found in it, to have been very rich, and so it appeared by some of the soldiers' pockets; but very few people were to be seen there, having had time to escape from the danger, except some old men and women, who were used by the English, after they fell into their hands, with all possible gentleness and humanity.

"This blow greatly affected the Dutch, who, according to their own accounts, suffered the loss of near six millions of guilders; and, if we take the ships into this computation, they confess they were losers to the amount of eleven millions, or one million, one hundred thousand pounds sterling."--_Lives of the Admirals_, Vol. II. p. 269, from the account of Sir Robert Holmes.

Note XLIV.

_Yet London, empress of the northern clime,
By a high fate thou greatly didst expire;
Great as the world's, which, at the death of Time,
Must fall, and rise a nobler frame by fire._
St. 212. p. 142.

_"Esse quoque in fatis reminiscitur, adfore tempus,
Quo mare, quo tellus, correptaque regia cœli
Ardeat; et mundi moles operosa laboret."_
OVID. _Metam._ Lib. I.

The dreadful Fire of London befel almost ere the inhabitants had done with rejoicing over the flames which consumed the fleet at Vlie, and the town of Brandaris. This horrible conflagration took its rise in the house of one Farryner, an obscure baker in Pudding-lane, near New Fish Street. It broke out on the night preceding the 2d September, 1666, with astonishing fury; and the houses in the lane, and its neighbourhood, being entirely constructed of timber, warped, and dried by a long drought, its progress was soon so rapid, that the inhabitants were content to escape from it with their lives, without attempting to save their moveables, far less to intercept the progress of the conflagration. In the morning, the attempts to stop a fire, now become so general, and which raged amidst such combustible buildings, proved totally ineffectual. The narrowness of the streets, and the nature of the houses was such, that, where one house was on fire, the devastation soon became general; and a strong east wind (a Belgian wind, as Dryden calls it), prevailing through the whole day, the flames, by various means of approach, occupied and surrounded the greater part of the city, properly so called. The magazines of naval stores, pitch, tar, hemp, dried wood, and other materials for shipping, which occupied the yards by the side of the river, soon caught the flames, to which they afforded a most horrible supply of strength and nourishment. All help seemed now to be in vain; for it is one thing to quench a fire, which has only occupied a few houses, and against which all the skill and exertion of those best qualified to check its progress can be at once directed, and another to extinguish a conflagration which occupies many streets, and which, if quelled in one spot where skillfully opposed, is triumphant in many others, where its ravages are only the object of wonder and lamentation to the heartless and ignorant citizens. At length universal destruction and dismay prevented the adoption of uniform or effectual measures against the destruction which seemed to impend in every quarter. The progress and extinction of this horrible fire will be learned from the text, and the following notes.

Note XLV.

_The ghosts of traitors from the bridge descend,
With bold fanatic spectres to rejoice;
About the fire into a dance they bend,
And sing their Sabbath notes with feeble voice._
St. 223. p. 144.

This most beautiful stanza requires but little illustration. London Bridge, as early as Shakespeare's time, was a place allotted for affixing the heads of persons executed for treason. Thus Catesby to Hastings,

The princes both make high account of you--
--For they account his head upon the _bridge_.

The skulls of the regicides, of the fifth-monarchy insurgents, of Philips, Gibb, Tongue, and other fanatics executed for a conspiracy in 1662, were placed on the Bridge, Towerhill, Temple-bar, and other conspicuous places of elevation; that of the famous Hugh Peters, in particular, was stationed upon the bridge. The _Sabbath notes_, imputed to this assembly of fanatic spectres, are the infernal hymns chaunted at the witches' Sabbath; a meeting, concerning which antiquity told and believed many strange things.

Note XLVI.

_Old father Thames raised up his reverend head,
But feared the fate of Simois would return._
St. 232. p. 145.

Dryden, in the hurry of composition, has here made a slight inaccuracy. It was not Simois, but Xanthus, otherwise called Scamander, who, having undertaken to drown Achilles, was nearly dried up by the devouring fires of Vulcan. He called, indeed, upon his brother river to assist him in his undertaking, but Simois appears to have maintained a prudent neutrality. See the _Iliad_, Book XXI.

Note XLVII.

_Now day appears, and with the day the king._
St. 238. p. 146.

The king, by his conduct during this emergency, gained more upon the hearts of his subjects, than by any action of his life. Completely awakened, by so dreadful an emergence, from his usual lethargy of pleasure and indolence, he came into the now half-burned city, with his brother and the nobility, and gave an admirable specimen of what his character was capable, when in a state of full exertion. Not contented with passive expressions of sorrow and sympathy, he issued the most prudent orders, and animated their execution by his presence. His anxiety was divided betwixt the task of stopping the conflagration, and the no less necessary and piteous duty of relieving those thousands, who, having lost their all by the fire, had neither a morsel of food, nor a place of shelter. For the one purpose, he spared neither commands, threats, example, nor liberal rewards, which he lavished with his own hand; for the other, he opened his naval and military magazines, and distributed among the miserable and starving sufferers, the provisions designed for his fleet and army. In fine, such were his exertions, and so grateful were his people, that they deemed his presence had an almost supernatural power, and clamourously entreated not to be deprived of it, when, after the fire was quenched, he was about to leave London.

Note XLVIII.

_The powder blows up all before the fire._
St. 245. p. 147.

"So many houses were now burning together, that water could not be had in sufficient quantities where it was wanted. The only remedy left was, to blow up houses at convenient distances from those which were on fire, and to make, by that means, void spaces, at which the fury of the conflagration should spend itself for want of fuel. But this means also proved ineffectual; for the fire, in some places, made its way by means of the combustible part of the rubbish of the ruined houses, not well cleared, and in others, by flakes of burning matter of different kinds, which were carried through the air, by the impetuous wind, to great distances. And the city being at that time almost all built of very old timber, which had besides been parched and scorched by the sun the whole preceding summer, one of the hottest and dryest that had been ever known, it came to pass that, wherever such fiery matter chanced to light, it seldom wanted fit fuel to work and feed upon."--_Baker's Chronicle_, p. 642. Edit. 1730.

Note XLIX.

_The days were all in this lost labour spent;
And, when the weary king gave place to night,
His beams he to his royal brother lent,
And so shone still in his reflective light._
St. 253. p. 149.

The Duke of York was as active and vigilant as his brother upon this melancholy occasion. His exertions and seasonable directions, prevented the fire from breaking out afresh from the Inner Temple, after it had been got under in other places of the town. Yet the idle calumny, which stigmatized the Roman Catholics, as the authors of the conflagration, was often extended to James himself. In that tissue of falsehood and misrepresentation, which Titus Oates entitled, "A Picture of the Late King James," he charges him "with beholding the flames with joy, and the ruins with much rejoicing," p. 30, and says he would have impeached him, as an accessary to the raising of that fire, had he not promised to Prince Rupert to bring forward no accusation that could hurt the king; "for I could not charge you," says he, "but must charge him too." In which case, by the way, this able witness would have made the king accessary to his own murder, which, according to Oates' own evidence, was to have been perpetrated during the fire, had not the hearts of the Jesuits failed them, on seeing the zeal with which he laboured to extinguish it.

Note L.

_The most, in fields, like herded beasts, lie down,
To dews obnoxious on the grassy floor._
St. 258. p. 149.

In this, and foregoing verses, the miseries of those, whose houses were consumed, are strikingly painted. Many fled for refuge to the houses of friends, and lodged there the remnants of their property, which they had been able to save. These were often forced to abandon their places of asylum, by a fresh invasion of the devouring element, and to yield up to its rage all which they had before rescued. At length, distrusting safety in the city itself, the villages in its vicinity soon became filled with fugitives, till, in the end, no place of refuge was left but the open fields, where thousands remained for several nights, without shelter, watching the progress of the flames, which were consuming the metropolis.

Note LI.

_O let it be enough what thou hast done,
When spotted deaths ran armed through every street,
With poisoned darts, which not the good could shun,
The speedy could out-fly, or valiant meet._
St. 267. p. 151.

In 1665, the plague broke out in London with the most dreadful fury. In one year, upwards of 90,000 inhabitants were cut off by this frightful visitation. The citizens were driven into the country, and so desolate was the metropolis, through death and desertion, that the grass is said actually to have grown in Cheapside.

Note LII.

_Thy threatnings, Lord, as thine, thou mayst revoke;
But, if immutable and fixed they stand,
Continue still thyself to give the stroke,
And let not foreign foes oppress thy land._--St. 270. p. 151.

The poet puts into the prayer of Charles the solemn and striking choice of David, when, as a penalty for his presumption in numbering the children of Israel, he was compelled to make an election between three years famine, three years subjugation to his enemies, or three days pestilence. "And David said unto God, I am in a great strait: let me fall now into the hand of the Lord, for very great are his mercies; but let me not fall into the hand of man." Dryden had already, in Stanza 265, paraphrased the patriotic prayer of David: "Let thy hand, I pray thee, O Lord my God, be on me, and on my father's house, but not on thy people, that they should be plagued." Chron. Book I. ch. xxi.

Note LIII.

_Nor could thy fabric, Paul's, defend thee long,
Though thou wert sacred to thy Maker's praise;
Though made immortal by a poet's song,
And poets songs the Theban walls could raise._
St. 275. p. 152.

Waller had addressed a poem to Charles I. upon his Majesty's repairing St Paul's. Denham, in the commencement of "Cowper's Hill," alludes both to the labours of the monarch, and of the poet:

Paul's, the late theme of such a muse, whose flight
Has bravely reached and soared above thy height,
Now shalt thou stand, though sword, or time, or fire,
Or zeal more fierce than they, thy fall conspire;
Secure whilst thee the best of poets sings,
Preserved from ruin by the best of kings.

The fire of London, however, neither respected the labours of Charles, the song of Waller, nor the prophecy of Sir John Denham. During the conflagration, as St Paul's was in an insulated situation, and constructed of strong stone-work, it was long thought to be in no danger from the fire, and many of the sufferers employed it as a place of deposit for the wreck of their goods and fortunes. But the whole adjoining buildings in the churchyard being in a light flame, it became impossible, even for the massy fabric of the cathedral, to resist the combustion. The wood arches and supports being consumed, the stone-work gave way with a most horrible crash, and buried the whole edifice in a pile of smoking ruins.

Note LIV.

_He saw the town's one half in rubbish lie,
And eager flames drive on to storm the rest._
St. 280. p. 153.

The inscription on the monument states, that the fire consumed eighty-nine churches, the city-gates, Guildhall, many public structures, hospitals, schools, libraries, a vast number of stately edifices, thirteen thousand two hundred dwelling houses, four hundred streets. Three hundred and seventy-three acres within the city walls, and sixty-three acres and three roods without the walls, remained heaped with the smoking ruins of the houses, which had once occupied them.

Note LV.

_The vanquished fires withdraw from every place._--St. 282. p. 153.

About ten o'clock of the evening of Tuesday the 5th of September, after the fire had raged for three days, the high east wind, which had been the means of forcing on its ravages, began to abate, and, in proportion, the efforts used to stop the progress of the flames became effectual. In some places, houses being opportunely blown up prevented the further spreading of the fire; in others, the flames, spent for lack of fuel, seemed to go out of themselves. On the morning of the 6th, the conflagration was totally extinguished.

The prejudices of the times assigned different causes for this tragical event, according to the political principles of the discordant parties. Most agreed, that the fire was raised by design; for, although the multitude are content to allow, that a private person may die suddenly of a natural disorder, or that a cottage may be consumed by accidental fire; yet the death of a king, or the conflagration of a metropolis, must, according to their habits of thinking, arise from some dark and dismal plot, planned, doubtless, by those, whose religious or political sentiments are most remote from their own. The royalists accused the fanatics; the puritans the papists, of being the raisers of this dreadful fire. Some suspected even the king and duke of York; though it is somewhat difficult to see any advantage they could derive from burning a city, which had been just loading them both with treasures. The Monument, whose inscription adopts one of these rash opinions, is a more stately, but not a more respectable, record of prejudice, than the stone figure in Smithfield, whose tablet declares, the fire must have been specially and exclusively a judgment for the crime of GLUTTONY, since it began in _Pudding-Lane_, and ended in _Pye-Corner_!

An event so signally calamitous called forth, as may be readily supposed, the condolence and consolations, such as they were, of the poets of the day. One author, who designs himself J. A. Fellow of King's College, Cambridge, poured forth verses "Upon the late lamentable Fire in London, in an humble imitation of the most incomparable Mr Cowley his Pindaric strain." This usurper of the Theban lyre informs us, that

About those hours which silence keep.
To tempt the froward world to ease;
Just at the time when, clothed with subtile air.
Guilty spirits use to appear;
When the hard students to their pillows creep;
(All but the aged men that wake,
Who in the morn their slumbers take,)
When fires themselves are put to sleep,
(Only the thrifty lights that burn, and melancholy persons please;)
Just then a message came,
Brought by a murmuring wind;
(Not to every obvious flame,
Thousand of those it left behind.)
And chose a treacherous heap of sparks,
Which buried in their ashes lay;
Which, when discovered by some secret marks,
The air fan'd the pale dust away:
What less than Heaven could ere this message send?
The embers glowing, waked, and did attend.

In an unusual tone
The embassy delivered was;
The teeming air itself did groan,
Nor for its burden could it farther pass.
Their dialects, but to themselves unknown,
Only by sad effects we see,
They did agree,
To execute the great decree;
And all with the same secrecy conspire,
That as heaven whispered to the air, the air should to the fire.
The drowsy coals no sooner understand
The purport of their large command,
And that the officious wind did there attend
Its needful aid to lend,
But suddenly they seek out
The work they were to go about;
And sparks, that had before inactive lain,
Each separate had its portion ta'en;
Though scattered for a while, designed to meet again.

Thus far contrived the wary fire,
Thinking how many 'twould undo;
Fearing their just complaint,
And the perpetual restraint;
It winked, as one would think 'twould fain
Have slept again;
Had not the cruel wind rose higher,
Which forced the drooping coals revive,
To save themselves alive.
Thus without fresh supply of food,
Not able to subsist,
Much less resist
A breath by which they were so rudely kist,
They seized a neighbouring stack of wood,
Which straight into one horrid flame did turn,
Not as it stood designed to burn.
Thus, while each other they oppose.
Poor mortals trace the mighty foes,
By the vast desolations each makes where'er he goes.

Besides this choice imitation of Cowley, we have "_Londini quod reliquum_, or London's Remains," in Latin and English; "_Actio in Londini Incendiarios_, the Conflagration of London, poetically delineated;" _Londinenses Lacrymæ_, or "London's tears mingled with her ashes;" and, doubtless, many other poems on the same memorable event.

Note LVIII.

_Not with more constancy the Jews, of old,
By Cyrus from rewarded exile sent
Their royal city did in dust behold,
Or with more vigour to rebuild it went._--St. 290. p. 155.

When Cyrus conquered Babylon, he restored the Jewish tribes to their native land, after seventy years captivity. The mixed feelings, with which they began to rebuild their ruined temple and city, are emphatically described in the book of Ezra, chap. iii.

"11. And they sung together by course, praising and giving thanks unto the Lord, because he is good, for his mercy endureth for ever towards Israel. And all the people shouted with a great shout when they praised the Lord, because the foundation of the house of the Lord was laid.

"12. But many of the priests and Levites, and chief of the fathers, who were ancient men, that had seen the first house, when the foundation of this house was laid before their eyes, wept with a loud voice, and many shouted loud for joy.

"13. So that the people could not discover the noise of the shout of joy from the noise of the weeping of the people; for the people shouted with a loud shout, and the noise was heard afar off."

Note LIX.

_Now frequent trines the happier lights among,
And high-raised Jove, from his dark prison freed,
Those weights took off that on his planet hung,
Will gloriously the new-laid works succeed._
St. 292. p. 155.

According to the jargon of astrology, a _trine_, or triangular conjunction of planets, was supposed to be eminently benign to mankind. To this Dryden adds the circumstance of the planet Jove being in his ascension, as a favourable aspect. Our poet was not above being seriously influenced by these fooleries; and I dare say will be found, on reference to any almanack of 1666, to have given a very accurate account of the relative state of the heavenly bodies in that year.

Note LX.

_More great than human now, and more august,
Now deified she from her fires does rise;
Her widening streets on new foundations trust,
And opening into larger parts she flies._--St. 295. p. 156.

It is here truly stated, that the calamity of the great fire was ultimately attended with excellent consequences to the city. By a proclamation from the king, of an arbitrary and dictatorial nature, but which the emergency seems to have justified, the citizens were prohibited from rebuilding their houses, except with solid materials, and upon such plans as should be set forth by a committee appointed for the purpose. In this manner, the endless disputes about property, whose boundaries were now undistinguishable, were at once silenced, and provision was made for the improvements in widening the streets, and prohibiting the use of lath and timber, of which materials the houses were formerly composed. "Had the king," says Hume, "been enabled to carry his power still farther, and made the houses be rebuilt with perfect regularity, and entirely upon one plan, he had contributed much to the convenience, as well as embellishment, of the city. Great advantages, however, have resulted from the alterations, though not carried to the full length. London became much more healthful after the fire. The plague, which used to break out with great fury twice or thrice every century, and indeed which was always lurking in some corner or other of the city, has scarcely ever appeared since that calamity."--Vol. VII. p. 4l6.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 203: "Memoirs of English affairs, chiefly naval, from 1660 to 1673, by his Royal Highness James Duke of York." Lond. 1729, 8vo.]

[Footnote 204: While these sheets were going to press, (to use the approved editorial phraseology,) I have discovered that these abstruse truths were asserted, not by Lilly himself, but a brother Philo-math, Richard Kirby, in his _Vates Astrologicus_, or England's Astrological Prophet.]

[Footnote 205: Sir Thomas Clifford was the person through whose medium Tydiman carried on a treaty with the Danish governor Alfeldt, for the surrender of the Dutch fleet; the sincerity of which, on the part of the Danes, may be greatly doubted, since their after conduct evinced an unrighteous desire of securing the whole booty of the unfortunate Dutchmen for themselves, which they must otherwise have divided with the English. See RALPH'S _Hist._ Vol. I. p. 118.]

[Footnote 206: The wits of that age, who laughed at every thing, made themselves very merry with this accident. Denham exhorts the painter thus:

But most with story of his hand and thumb,
Conceal, as honour would, his grace's bum,
When the rude bullet a large collop tore
Out of that buttock never turned before;
Fortune, it seems, would give him by that lash
Gentle correction for his fight so rash;
But should the Rump perceive't, they'd say that Mars
Has thus avenged them upon Aumarle's ----.

The bard elsewhere gives his grace the admonition,

Guard thy posteriours, George, ere all be gone;
Though jury-masts, thou'st jury-buttocks none.

_Instructions to a Painter, part 2d._
]

[Footnote 207: This is taken from the narrative imputed to Harman himself.--See _Lives of the Admirals_, Vol. II. p. 262. Its authenticity is questioned by Ralph, on account of the _lubberly_ phrases, _cordage_ and _crossbeam_ for _slings_ and _yard_. But the same circumstances occur in a letter from Alborough, dated June 2d, and published in the London Gazette for June 4th, giving an account of the crippled state in which the Henry had come into that port, and of the part she had sustained in the action. A doggrel poet, on the same occasion, apostrophises

----Brave Harman now, his fiery ordeals past,
Submits unto his watery trial last;
Whose sober valour shall encrease his glory,
And gain new plumes to enrich a future story.
_On the Declaration of Toleration, and Publication of War._
]

ABSALOM

AND

ACHITOPHEL.