Holland turnd to Tinder,
OR, ENGLANDS
Third Great Royal VICTORY.
Being an exact Narrative brought by Captain Talbot Commander of the Elizabeth a fourth rate Frigat of the
Blew Squadron, who on wednesday night came into Harwitch, and sent an Express to the KING at White-
hall, of all that had past betwixt both the [f]leets, before and in the Fight: Which news hath been continued
since by other persons from aboard the Royal Charles, who give account of a total Rout given to the Dutch,
and a great Victory obtained against them, insomuch that they are beaten and blockd in their own Harbors:
All this was performed on Wednesday and Thursday 25. and 26. of July, 1666.
The Tune is, Packingtons pound.
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THe weather is clear, which was late over cast
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& our long expectations are answerd at last,
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With News from the Navie, which I shal impart
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Enough to rejoyce every English-mans heart,
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Thats honest and true,
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(And is not a Jew)
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but would give to God and to Cesar his Due.
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This will be a joyfull and Royal Relation
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To such as love God, the King, and the Nation:
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those Dutch Demigorgons, Gods power convinces
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& makes them all Servant, that aimd to be Princes.
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On Wednesday last, the twenty fift day of July,
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Came in this Narration which Ile tell ye truly,
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From brave Cap. Talbot, a man of stout carriage
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That then brought a part of this News into Harwich,
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Both Ruine and Rage,
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(In brave Equipage)
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Last wednesday at noone both thee fleets did ingage
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The winds were our freinds, & did fill out our sails
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With very fresh Northerly brave top-sail gales;
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We dind with the Hogens upon their own Coast,
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You might a bad Dutch-men there boild or roast.
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At first both the Navies did fight in a Line,
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Three hours with much fury & force (but in fine)
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The Enemies Fleet into three Squadrons flew,
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And Sir Jeremie Smith (Admiral of the Blew)
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By lot was to face,
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Persue and to Chase
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out the Zelanders Squadron, thee strongest that was
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They fought it out furiously, all the day after,
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And fiercely incounterd, like wild-fire & water,
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A Frigat of ours called the Resolution,
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Was burnt by the Dutch in this depth of confusion.
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The white and red squadrons did ply thee two other
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So fast that they almost were choakd with thee smother
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They tuggd very hard who should stand it out longest,
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Our blew was thee weakest, the Zealand the strongest
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And yet they fight
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Till so late at night,
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that powder and darkness deprivd them of sight
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The two Hollan[d] squadrons both turnd tail & fled[,]
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Pursued by the squadrons of our White and Red,
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Upon thursday morning betwixt nine and ten,
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The Zealands were cripled and hoppd home agen.
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The second Part, to the same Tune.
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TO aid thee blew squadron a thousand stout men
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Were sent (in five frigats) by sir William Pen,
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And Talbot doth telLus ere he did retire,
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On wednesday night he saw six Dutch ships on fire,
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Two hundred almost
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Of our men were lost,
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such victories seldom are gaind without cost,
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The Zealanders Admiral some think is gone
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Unto his last home, wh[e]n his flag was shot down,
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Tis highly presumd by the best knowing men,
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They nere will be able to fight us agen.
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The prestmen (wel mingld with stout voluntiers[)]
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Did drink away dolor and fight away fears:
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Our small shot did stand tot with valiant desire,
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Their Guns spit & sparkld like bay-leaves in fire
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Our Canons did roare
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They sunk and they tore
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thousands that heard them will nere hear them more.
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It is better far in a good cause to dye,
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Then with a bad conscience to live great & high:
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And in acts of honour theres no better thing,
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Then dye a true Martyr for God and the King.
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Our white and red squadrons Du Ruiter engagd
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Five hours, till at last his fierce fury aswagd,
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He fought as if he had been Mars his own son,
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From ten in the morning, till three afternoon.
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Our Red and our White
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Did dazel his sight,
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they made him to turn and to run away quite,
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For no other reason as some men suppose
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But courage did fall from his heart to his hose:
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Though bad men seek victory, and think to win it
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It never will prosper, if God be not in it.
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Our Frigots persued him, our Canons did roare,
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Until they were come within two miles of shore:
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Our great Ships persud, & contind thee slaughter,
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So far till they were within six fathom water:
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They durst not look back,
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To see what we lack,
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but posting for life, to their Harbours they tack;
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Their Flags being struck, and not let up again,
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Tis thought that Ven Trump & Du Ruiter is slain.
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He that doth protect us, will save us from evil,
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In spight of the Dutch, the Dane, or the Devil.
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Besides all the damage our Shipping hath done,
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To Vessels & men, in their fight, and their run.
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Two very stout Ships we have taken and fixd,
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And in them five hundred and ninety men tyrd,
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With tagging for that,
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They cannot get at.
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to make England stoop to their pittyful State;
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When slaves are turnd princes, no tyrants so evil
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When beggers are mounted, they ride to thee Devil
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No Souls so insulting as such sordid Slaves,
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As climb to preferment on honest mens graves.
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Our Genrals and Navy, are all safe and sound,
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The Prince, & the Duke have our foes in thee pound
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They in their own Harbors are prisners at ease,
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The King of great Brittain Commands where he please.
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We ride on the Ocean,
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And waite for the Motion,
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to venter again they have no great devotion.
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had they not crept in, theyd been burnt to a cinder
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And Holland by this time, had been turnd to tinder
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God bless King & Queen, with thee Duke, & all such,
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As are friends to great Brittain, & foes to the Dutch.
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