Instructions to a painter for the drawing of the posture & progress of His Ma[jes]ties forces at sea, under the command of His Highness Royal together with the battel & victory obtained over the Dutch, June 3, 1665 / by Edm. Waller, Esq. Waller, Edmund, 1606-1687. 1666 Approx. 20 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 10 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-05 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A67335 Wing W500 ESTC R18618 12439428 ocm 12439428 62069 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A67335) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 62069) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 300:6) Instructions to a painter for the drawing of the posture & progress of His Ma[jes]ties forces at sea, under the command of His Highness Royal together with the battel & victory obtained over the Dutch, June 3, 1665 / by Edm. Waller, Esq. Waller, Edmund, 1606-1687. 18 p. Printed for Henry Herringman ..., London : 1666. First complete edition. An anonymous broadside, containing the first part of the poem, was published, 1665, under a slightly different title. Reproduction of original in Huntington Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. 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Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng War poetry, English. Anglo-Dutch War, 1664-1667 -- Poetry. 2002-11 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2003-01 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2003-02 John Latta Sampled and proofread 2003-02 John Latta Text and markup reviewed and edited 2003-04 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion INSTRUCTIONS TO A PAINTER , For the Drawing of the POSTURE & PROGRESS OF His Maties Forces at Sea , Under the Command of His Highness Royal. Together with the BATTEL & VICTORY Obtained over the Dutch , June 3. 1665. Ut , qui vos , Imperatores vestros , & Anglorum Res gestas semper ornavit , Humanitate vestrâ levatus , potius quam acerbitate violatus esse videatur . Cicero pro Arch. Poet. By EDM. WALLER Esq LONDON , Printed for Henry Herringman , at the Anchor on the Lower Walk of the New Exchange . 1666. INSTRUCTIONS TO A PAINTER , For the Drawing of the Posture and Progress of His Maties Forces at Sea , Under the Command of HIS HIGHNESS ROYAL . Together with The Battel and Victory obtained over the Dutch June 3. 1665. FIrst draw the Sea , That portion which between The greater World , and this of ours is seen ; Here place the British , there the Holland Fleet , Vast Floating Armies , both prepar'd to meet : Draw the whole World , expecting who shall Raign , After this Combate , o're the Conquer'd Main ; Make Heav'n concern'd , and an unusual Star Declare th'Importance of th' approaching War : Make the Sea shine with Gallantry , and all The English Youth flock to their Admiral , The Valiant Duke , whose early Deeds abroad , Such Rage in Fight , and Art in Conduct show'd ; His bright Sword now a dearer Int'rest draws , His Brothers Glory , and His Countries Cause . Let thy Bold Pencil , Hope , and Courage spread Through the whole Navy , by that Heroe led ; Make all appear , where such a Prince is by , Resolv'd to Conquer , or resolv'd to Die : With His Extraction , and His Glorious Mind Make the proud Sails swell , more than with the Wind ; Preventing Cannon , Make His louder Fame Check the Batavians , and their Fury tame : So hungry Wolves , though greedy of their Prey , Stop when they find a Lion in their way . Make Him bestride the Ocean , and Mankind Ask His Consent , to use the Sea and Wind : While His tall Ships in the barr'd Channel stand , He grasps the Indies in His Armed Hand . Paint an East-wind , and make it blow away Th' Excuse of Holland for their Navies stay ; Make them look pale , and the Bold Prince to shun , Through the cold North , and Rocky Regions run ; To find the Coast where Morning first appears , By the dark Pole the wary Belgian steers , Confessing now , He dreads the English , more Then all the Dangers of a Frozen Shore , While from our Arms security to find , They fly so far , they leave the Day behind : Describe their Fleet abandoning the Sea , And all their Merchants left a wealthy Prey ; Our first Success in War , make Bacchus Crown , And half the Vintage of the Year our own : The Dutch their Wine , and all their Brandee lose , Disarm'd of that , from which their Courage grows ; While the glad English , to relieve their Toil , In Healths to their great Leader drink the Spoil : His high Command to Africk's Coast extend , And make the Moors before the English bend , Those Barbarous Pirates willingly receive Conditions such , as we are pleas'd to give ; Deserted by the Dutch , let Nations know , We can our own , and their great business do ; False Friends chastise , and common Foes restrain , Which worse then Tempests did infest the Main . Within those Streights make Smyrna-Fleet With a small Squadron of the English meet ; Like Falcons these , those like a numerous Flock , Of Fowl , which scatter to avoid the Shock ; There paint Confusion in a various shape Some sink , some Yield , and flying some Escape : Europe and Africa from either Shore Spectators are , and hear our Cannon roar , While the divided World , in this , agree , Men that fight so , deserve to Rule the Sea. But neerer Home , thy Pencil use once more , And place our Navy by the Holland Shore ; The World they compass'd , while they fought with Spain , But here already they resign the Main : Those greedy Mariners , out of whose way , Diffusive Nature could no Region lay , At home , preserv'd , from Rocks and Tempests lie , Compell'd , like others , in their Beds to die ; Their single Towns th' Iberian Armies press't , We all their Provinces at once Invest , And in a Month , Ruine their Traffique , more , Then that long War , could in an Age before . But who can always on the Billows ly ? The watry Wilderness yields no supply ; Spreading our Sails , to Harwich we resort , And meet the Beauties of the British Court , Th' Illustrious Dutchess , and her Glorious Train , Like Thetis with her Nymphs , adorn the Main ; The gazing Sea-gods , since the Paphian Queen Sprung from among them , no such sight had seen ; Charm'd with the Graces of a Troop so fair , Those deathless Powers for us themselves declare , Resolv'd the Aid of Neptuno's Court to bring , And help the Nation where such Beauties spring : The Souldier here his wasted Store supplies , And takes new Valour from the Ladies Eyes : Mean while , like Bees , when stormy Winter 's gone , The Dutch ( as if the Sea were all their own ) Desert their Ports , and falling in their way Our Hamburgh Merchants are become their Prey ; Thus flourish they , before th' appoaching Fight , As dying Tapers give a blazing Light. To check their Pride , our Fleet half Victuall'd goes , Enough to serve us , till we reach our Foes , Who now appear , so numerous and bold , The Action worthy of our Arms we hold ; A greater Force , then that which here we find , Ne're press'd the Ocean , nor employ'd the Wind. Restrain'd a while by the unwelcom Night , Th' impatient English scarce attend the Light ; But now the Morning , Heav'n severely clear , To the fierce Work Indulgent does appear ; And Phoebus lifts above the Waves his Light , That he might see , and thus Record the Fight : As when loud Winds from different Quarters rush , Vast Clouds incountring , one another crush , With swelling Sails , so , from their several Coasts , Joyn the Batavian , and the British Hoasts ; For a less Prize , with less Concern and Rage , The Roman Fleets at Actium did Engage ; They for the Empire of the World they knew , These for the Old , Contend , and for the New : At the first Shock , with Blood , and Powder stain'd , Nor Heav'n , nor Sea , their former face retain'd ; Fury and Art produce Effects so strange , They trouble Nature , and her Visage change : Where burning Ships the banish'd Sun supply , And no Light shines , but that by which Men dy , There YORK appears , so prodigal is he Of Royal Blood , as ancient as the Sea , Which down to Him , so many Ages told , Has through the Veins of Mighty Monarchs roll'd ; The great Achilles march'd not to the Field , Till Vulcan that impenetrable Shield And Arms had wrought ; yet there no Bullets flew , But Shafts , and Darts , which the weak Phrygians threw ; Our bolder Heroe on the Deck does stand Expos'd , the Bulwark of his Native Land , Defensive Arms laid by , as useless here , Where massie Balls the Neighbouring Rocks do tear : Some Power unseen those Princes does protect , Who for their Country thus themselves neglect . Against Him first Opdam his Squadron leads , Proud of his late Success against the Swedes , Made by that Action , and his high Command , Worthy to perish by a Princes Hand : The tall Batavian in a vast Ship rides , Bearing an Army in her hollow Sides , Yet not inclin'd the English Ship to Board , More on his Guns relies , then on his Sword , From whence a fatal Volley we receiv'd , It miss'd the Duke , but His great Heart it griev'd , Three worthy Persons from His Side it tore , And dy'd His Garment with their scatter'd Gore : Happy ! to whom this glorious Death arrives , More to be valu'd than a thousand Lives ! On such a Theatre , as this , to dy , For such a Cause , and such a Witness by ! Who would not thus a Sacrifice be made , To have his Blood on such an Altar laid ? The rest about Him strook with Horrour stood , To see their Leader cover'd or'e with Blood ; So trembl'd Jacob , when he thought the stains Of his Sons Coat had issu'd from his Veins : He feels no wound , but in his troubled Thought , Before for Honour , now Revenge He fought , His Friends in pieces torn , the bitter News Not brought by Fame , with His own Eyes he views ; His Mind at once reflecting on their Youth , Their Worth , their Love , their Valour , and their Truth , The Joys of Court , their Mothers , and their Wives To follow Him abandon'd , and their Lives , He storms , and Shoots ; but flying Bullets now To execute His Rage , appear too slow ; They miss , or sweep but Common Souls away , For such a Loss , Opdam his Life must pay : Encouraging His Men , He gives the Word , With fierce intent that hated Ship to Board , And make the Guilty Dutch , with His own Arm , Wait on His Friends , while yet their Blood is warm : His winged Vessel like an Eagle shows , When through the Clouds to truss a Swan she goes ; The Belgian Ship unmov'd , like some huge Rock Inhabiting the Sea , expects the Shock : From both the Fleets Mens Eyes are bent this way , Neglecting all the Business of the day , Bullets their Flight , and Guns their Noise suspend , The silent Ocean does th' Event attend , Which Leader shall the Doubtful Vict'ry bless , And give an Earnest of the Wars Success ; When Heav'n it self for England to declare , Turns Ship , and Men , and Tackle into Air ; Their new Commander from his Charge is tost , Which that young Prince had so unjustly lost , Whose Great Progenitors with better Fate , And better Conduct sway'd their Infant State. His flight tow'rds Heav'n th' aspiring Belgian took , But fell , like Phaeton , with Thunder strook , From vaster hopes than his , He seem'd to fall , That durst attempt the British Admiral ; From her Broad-sides a ruder Flame is thrown , Than from the fiery Chariot of the Sun ; That bears the radiant Ensigh of the Day , And she the Flag that Governs in the Sea. The Duke ill pleas'd that Fire should thus prevent The work which for His brighter Sword He meant , Anger still burning in His valiant Breast , Goes to compleat Revenge upon the Rest ; So on the guardless Herd , their Keeper slain , Rushes a Tyger in the Lybian Plain . The Dutch accustom'd to the raging Sea , And in black Storms the Frowns of Heav'n to see , Never met Tempest which more urg'd their Fears , Than that which in the Prince His Look appears ; Fierce , Goodly , Young , Mars He resembles , when Jove sends him down , to scourge perfidious Men , Such as with foul Ingratitude have paid Both those that Led , and those that gave them Aid ; Where He gives on , disposing of their Fates , Terror and Death on His loud Cannon waits , With which He pleads His Brothers Cause so well , He shakes the Throne to which he does Appeal ; The Sea with Spoil His angry Bullets strow , Widows and Orphans making as they go ; Before His Ship , Fragments of Vessels torn , Flags , Arms , and Belgian Carcasses are born , And His despairing Foes to flight inclin'd , Spread all their Canvase to invite the Wind : So the rude Boreas where he lists to blow Makes Clouds above , and Billows fly below , Beating the shore , and with a boysterous rage Does Heav'n at once , and Earth and Sea ingage : The Dutch elsewhere , did through the watry Field Perform enough to have made others yield ; But English Courage growing as they fight , In danger , noise , and slaughter takes delight , Their bloody Task , unwearied still , they ply , Only restrain'd by Death , or Victory : Iron and Lead , from Earths dark Entrails torn , Like show'rs of Hail from either side are born ; So high the Rage of wretched Mortals goes , Hurling their Mothers Bowels at their Foes , Ingenious to their ruine , Every Age Improves the Arts , and Instruments of Rage ; Death-hast'ning ills Nature enough has sent , And yet Men still a thousand more invent . But Bacchus now , which led the Belgians on So fierce at first , to favour us begun ; Brandee and Wine , their wonted Friends , at length Render them useless , and betray their strength : So Corn in Fields , and in the Garden Flowers , Revive , and raise themselves with moderate Showers ; But over-charg'd with never-ceasing Rain , Become too moist , and bend their heads again : Their reeling Ships on one another fall , Without a Foe enough to ruine all : Of this Disorder , and the favouring Wind , The watchful English such Advantage find , Ships fraught with Fire among the Heap they throw , And up the so intangled Belgians blow ; The Flame invades the Powder-rooms , and then Their Guns shoot Bullets , and their Vessels Men ; The scorch't Batavians on the Billows float , Sent from their own to pass in Charon's Boat. And now our Royal Admiral , Success With all the marks of Victory does bless ; The burning Ships , the taken , and the slain Proclaim His Triumph o're the Conquer'd Main : Neerer to Holland as their hasty flight Carries the Noise and Tumult of the Fight , His Cannons roar , fore-runner of His Fame , Makes their Hague tremble , and their Amsterdam ; The British Thunder does their Houses rock , And the Duke seems at every Door to knock ; His dreadful Streamer like a Comets hair Threatning Destruction , hastens their Despair , Makes them deplore their scatter'd Fleet as lost , And fear our present Landing on their Coast. The Trembling Dutch th' approaching Prince behold As Sheep a Lion leaping tow'rds their Fold ; Those Piles which serve them to repel the Main They think too weak His Fury to restrain : What Wonders may not English Valour work , Led by th' Example of Victorious YORK ? Or what Defence against Him can they make , Who at such distance does their Country shake ? His fatal Hand their Bulwarks will o'rethrow , And let in both the Ocean and the Foe : Thus cry the People , and their Land to keep , Allow our Title to Command the Deep , Blaming their States ill Conduct to provoke Those Arms which freed them from the Spanish Yoke . Painter , excuse me , if I have a while Forgot thy Art , and us'd another Stile ; For though you Draw Arm'd Heroes as they fit , The Task in Battel does the Muses fit ; They in the dark Confusion of a Fight Discover all , instruct us how to Write , And Light and Honour to Brave Actions yield , Hid in the Smoak and Tumult of the Field . Ages to come shall know that Leaders Toil , And His Great Name on whom the Muses smile ; Their Dictates here let thy fam'd Pencil trace , And this Relation with thy Colours grace . Then Draw the Parliament , the Nobles met , And our Great Monarch , High above Them set , Like young Augustus let His Image be , Triumphing for that Victory at Sea , Where AEgypts Queen , and Eastern Kings o'rethrown . Made the Possession of the World His own . Last Draw the Commons at His Royal Feet , Pouring out Treasure to Supply His Fleet ; They vow , with Lives and Fortunes to maintain Their Kings Eternal Title to the Main , And with a Present to the Duke approve His Valour , Conduct , and His Countries Love. To the King. GREAT SIR , Disdain not in this Piece to Stand Supream Commander both of Sea and Land : Those which Inhabit the Celestial Bower , Painters express with Emblems of their Power ; His Club Alcides , Phoebus has his Bow , Jove has his Thunder , and your Navy You. But Your Great Providence no Colours here Can Represent , nor Pencil draw that Care Which keeps You waking , to secure our Peace , The Nations Glory , and our Trades Increase ; You for these Ends whole days in Counsel Sit , And the Diversions of Your Youth forget . Small were the worth of Valour , and of Force , If Your High Wisdom Govern'd not their Course ; You as the Soul , as the First Mover You Vigour and Life on every Part bestow , How to build Ships , and Dreadful Ordnance cast , Instruct the Artists , and Reward their Haste : So Jove Himself , when Typhon Heav'n does brave , Descends to visit Vulcan's smoaky Cave , Teaching the Brawny Cyclops how to frame His Thunder mixt with Terrour , Wrath , and Flame . Had the old Greeks discover'd Your Abode , Crete had not been the Cradle of their God , On that small Island they had look'd with scorn , And in Great Britain thought the Thunderer born . FINIS .