No More Learning

Now on their coasts our conquering navy rides,
Way-lays their merchants, and their land besets;
Each day new wealth without their care provides;
They lie asleep with prizes in their nets.

203.

So close behind some promontory lie
The huge leviathans to attend their prey;
And give no chace, but swallow in the fry,
Which through their gaping jaws mistake the way.

204.

Nor was this all; in ports and roads remote,
Destructive fires among whole fleets we send;
Triumphant flames upon the water float,
And out-bound ships at home their voyage end. [178]

205.

Those various squadrons, variously designed,
Each vessel freighted with a several load,
Each squadron waiting for a several wind,
All find but one,--to burn them in the road.

206.

Some bound for Guinea, golden sand to find,
Bore all the gauds the simple natives wear;
Some for the pride of Turkish courts designed,
For folded turbans finest Holland bear.

207.

Some English wool vexed in a Belgian loom,
And into cloth of spongy softness made,
Did into France, or colder Denmark, doom,
To ruin with worse ware our staple trade.

208.

Our greedy seamen rummage every hold,
Smile on the booty of each wealthier chest;
And, as the priests who with their gods make bold,
Take what they like, and sacrifice the rest.

209.

But ah! how insincere are all our joys!
Which sent from heaven, like lightning, make no stay;
Their palling taste the journey's length destroys,
Or grief, sent post, o'ertakes them on the way.

210.

Swelled with our late successes on the foe,
Which France and Holland wanted power to cross,
We urge an unseen fate to lay us low,
And feed their envious eyes with English loss.

211.

Each element his dread command obeys,
Who makes or ruins with a smile or frown;
Who, as by one he did our nation raise,
So now he with another pulls us down.

212.

Yet London, empress of the northern clime,
By an 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. [179]

213.

As when some dire usurper heaven provides,
To scourge his country with a lawless sway;
His birth, perhaps, some petty village hides,
And sets his cradle out of fortune's way:

214.

Till fully ripe his swelling fate breaks out,
And hurries him to mighty mischiefs on;
His prince, surprised at first, no ill could doubt,
And wants the power to meet it when 'tis known:

215.

Such was the rise of this prodigious fire,
Which in mean buildings first obscurely bred,
From thence did soon to open streets aspire,
And straight to palaces and temples spread.

216.

The diligence of trades and noiseful gain,
And luxury more late, asleep were laid;
All was the night's; and, in her silent reign,
No sound the rest of nature did invade.

217.

In this deep quiet, from what source unknown,
Those seeds of fire their fatal birth disclose;
And, first, few scattering sparks about were blown,
Big with the flames that to our ruin rose.

218.

Then in some close-pent room it crept along,
And, smouldering as it went, in silence fed;
Till th' infant monster, with devouring strong,
Walked boldly upright with exalted head.

219.

Now, like some rich or mighty murderer,
Too great for prison, which he breaks with gold;
Who fresher for new mischiefs does appear,
And dares the world to tax him with the old:

220.

So 'scapes the insulting Fire his narrow jail,
And makes small outlets into open air;
There the fierce winds his tender force assail,
And beat him downward to his first repair.

221.

The winds, like crafty courtezans, with-held
His flames from burning, but to blow them more;
And, every fresh attempt, he is repelled
With faint denials, weaker than before. [180]

222.

And now, no longer letted of his prey,
He leaps up at it with enraged desire;
O'erlooks the neighbours with a wide survey,
And nods at every house his threatning fire.

223.

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. [181]

224.

Our guardian angel saw them where they sate,
Above the palace of our slumbering king;
He sighed, abandoning his charge to fate,
And, drooping, oft looked back upon the wing.

225.

At length the crackling noise and dreadful blaze
Called up some waking lover to the sight;
And long it was ere he the rest could raise,
Whose heavy eyelids yet were full of night.

226.

The next to danger, hot pursued by fate,
Half-clothed, half-naked, hastily retire;
And frighted mothers strike their breasts too late,
For helpless infants left amidst the fire.

227.

Their cries soon waken all the dwellers near;
Now murmuring noises rise in every street;
The more remote run stumbling with their fear,
And in the dark men jostle as they meet.

228.

So weary bees in little cells repose;
But if night-robbers lift the well-stored hive,
An humming through their waxen city grows,
And out upon each other's wings they drive.

229.

Now streets grow thronged, and busy as by day;
Some run for buckets to the hallowed quire;
Some cut the pipes, and some the engines play,
And some, more bold, mount ladders to the fire.

230.

In vain; for from the east a Belgian wind
His hostile breath through the dry rafters sent;
The flames, impelled, soon left their foes behind,
And forward with a wanton fury went.

231.

A key of fire ran all along the shore,
And lightened all the river with a blaze;[182]
The wakened tides began again to roar,
And wondering fish in shining waters gaze.

232.

Old father Thames raised up his reverend head,
But feared the fate of Simois would return;[183]
Deep in his ooze he sought his sedgy bed,
And shrunk his waters back into his urn.

233.

The fire, mean-time, walks in a broader gross;[184]
To either hand his wings he opens wide;
He wades the streets, and straight he reaches cross,
And plays his longing flames on the other side.

234.

At first they warm, then scorch, and then they take;
Now with long necks from side to side they feed;
At length, grown strong, their mother-fire forsake,
And a new colony of flames succeed.

235.

To every nobler portion of the town
The curling billows roll their restless tide;
In parties now they straggle up and down,
As armies, unopposed, for prey divide.

236.

One mighty squadron with a side-wind sped,
Through narrow lanes his cumbered fire does haste;
By powerful charms of gold and silver led,
The Lombard bankers and the Change to waste.

237.

Another backward to the Tower would go,
And slowly eats his way against the wind;
But the main body of the marching foe
Against the imperial palace is designed.

238.

Now day appears, and with the day the king,[185]
Whose early care had robbed him of his rest;
Far off the cracks of falling houses ring,
And shrieks of subjects pierce his tender breast.

239.

Near as he draws, thick harbingers of smoke,
With gloomy pillars, cover all the place;
Whose little intervals of night are broke
By sparks, that drive against his sacred face.

240.

More than his guards his sorrows made him known,
And pious tears, which down his cheeks did shower;
The wretched in his grief forgot their own,
So much the pity of a king has power.

241.

He wept the flames of what he loved so well,
And what so well had merited his love;
For never prince in grace did more excel,
Or royal city more in duty strove.

242.

Nor with an idle care did he behold;
Subjects may grieve, but monarchs must redress;
He chears the fearful, and commends the bold,
And makes despairers hope for good success.

243.

Himself directs what first is to be done,
And orders all the succours which they bring;
The helpful and the good about him run,
And form an army worthy such a king.

244.

He sees the dire contagion spread so fast,
That where it seizes all relief is vain;
And therefore must unwillingly lay waste
That country, which would else the foe maintain.

245.

The powder blows up all before the fire;[186]
The amazed flames stand gathered on a heap;
And from the precipice's brink retire,
Afraid to venture on so large a leap.

246.

Thus fighting fires a while themselves consume,
But straight, like Turks forced on to win or die,
They first lay tender bridges of their fume,
And o'er the breach in unctuous vapours fly.

247.

Part stay for passage, till a gust of wind
Ships o'er their forces in a shining sheet;
Part creeping under ground, their journey blind,
And climbing from below their fellows meet.

248.

Thus to some desert plain, or old wood-side,
Dire night-hags come from far to dance their round;
And o'er broad rivers on their fiends they ride,
Or sweep in clouds above the blasted ground.

249.

No help avails; for, hydra-like, the fire
Lifts up his hundred heads to aim his way;
And scarce the wealthy can one half retire,
Before he rushes in to share the prey.

250.

The rich grow suppliant, and the poor grow proud;
Those offer mighty gain, and these ask more;
So void of pity is the ignoble crowd,
When others' ruin may increase their store.

251.

As those who live by shores with joy behold
Some wealthy vessel split or stranded nigh;
And from the rocks leap down for shipwrecked gold,
And seek the tempests which the others fly:

252.

So these but wait the owners' last despair,
And what's permitted to the flames invade;
E'en from their jaws they hungry morsels tear,
And on their backs the spoils of Vulcan lade.

253.

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. [187]

254.

Night came, but without darkness or repose,
A dismal picture of the general doom;
Where souls, distracted when the trumpet blows,
And half unready, with their bodies come.

255.

Those who have homes, when home they do repair,
To a last lodging call their wandering friends;
Their short uneasy sleeps are broke with care,
To look how near their own destruction tends.

256.

Those, who have none, sit round where once it was,
And with full eyes each wonted room require;
Haunting the yet warm ashes of the place,
As murdered men walk where they did expire.

257.

Some stir up coals and watch the vestal fire,
Others in vain from sight of ruin run;
And while through burning lab'rinths they retire,
With loathing eyes repeat what they would shun.

258.

The most in fields, like herded beasts, lie down,
To dews obnoxious on the grassy floor;[188]
And while their babes in sleep their sorrows drown,
Sad parents watch the remnants of their store.

259.

While by the motion of the flames they guess
What streets are burning now, and what are near,
An infant, waking, to the paps would press,
And meets, instead of milk, a falling tear.

260.

No thought can ease them but their sovereign's care,
Whose praise the afflicted as their comfort sing;
E'en those, whom want might drive to just despair,
Think life a blessing under such a king.

261.

Meantime he sadly suffers in their grief,
Outweeps an hermit, and outprays a saint;
All the long night he studies their relief,
How they may be supplied, and he may want.

262.

"O God," said he, "thou patron of my days,
Guide of my youth in exile and distress!
Who me, unfriended, brought'st by wond'rous ways,
The kingdom of my fathers to possess:

263.

"Be thou my judge, with what unwearied care
I since have laboured for my people's good;
To bind the bruises of a civil war,
And stop the issues of their wasting blood.

264.

"Thou, who hast taught me to forgive the ill,
And recompense, as friends, the good misled;
If mercy be a precept of thy will,
Return that mercy on thy servant's head.

265.

"Or if my heedless youth has stepped astray,
Too soon forgetful of thy gracious hand,
On me alone thy just displeasure lay,
But take thy judgments from this mourning land.

266.

"We all have sinned; and thou hast laid us low,
As humble earth, from whence at first we came:
Like flying shades before the clouds we show,
And shrink like parchment in consuming flame.

267.

"O let it be enough what thou hast done;
When spotted deaths ran arm'd through every street,
With poisoned darts, which not the good could shun,
The speedy could out-fly, or valiant meet. [189]

268.

"The living few, and frequent funerals then,
Proclaimed thy wrath on this forsaken place;
And now those few, who are returned again,
Thy searching judgments to their dwellings trace.

269.

"O pass not, Lord, an absolute decree,
Or bind thy sentence unconditional;
But in thy sentence our remorse foresee,
And in that foresight this thy doom recal.

270.

"Thy threatnings, Lord, as thine, thou may'st revoke;
But, if immutable and fixed they stand,
Continue still thyself to give the stroke,
And let not foreign foes oppress thy land. "[190]

271.

The Eternal heard, and from the heavenly quire
Chose out the cherub with the flaming sword;
And bade him swiftly drive the approaching fire
From where our naval magazines were stored.

272.

The blessed minister his wings displayed,
And like a shooting star he cleft the night:
He charged the flames, and those that disobeyed,
He lashed to duty with his sword of light.

273.

The fugitive flames, chastised, went forth to prey
On pious structures, by our fathers reared;
By which to heaven they did affect the way,
Ere faith in churchmen without works was heard.

274.

The wanting orphans saw, with watery eyes,
Their founders' charity in dust laid low;
And sent to God their ever-answered cries;
For he protects the poor, who made them so.

275.

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. [191]

276.

The daring flames peeped in, and saw from far
The awful beauties of the sacred quire;
But since it was prophaned by civil war,
Heaven thought it fit to have it purged by fire.

277.

Now down the narrow streets it swiftly came,
And, widely opening, did on both sides prey;
This benefit we sadly owe the flame,
If only ruin must enlarge our way.

278.

And now four days the sun had seen our woes;
Four nights the moon beheld the incessant fire;
It seemed as if the stars more sickly rose,
And farther from the feverish north retire.

279.

In the empyrean heaven, the blessed abode,
The Thrones and the Dominions prostrate lie,
Not daring to behold their angry God;
And an hushed silence damps the tuneful sky.

280.

At length the Almighty cast a pitying eye,
And mercy softly touched his melting breast;
He saw the town's one half in rubbish lie,
And eager flames drive on to storm the rest. [192]

281.

An hollow crystal pyramid he takes,
In firmamental waters dipt above;
Of it a broad extinguisher he makes,
And hoods the flames that to their quarry drove.

282.

The vanquished fires withdraw from every place,[193]
Or, full with feeding, sink into a sleep:
Each household genius shows again his face,
And from the hearths the little Lares creep.

283.

Our king this more than natural change beholds;
With sober joy his heart and eyes abound:
To the All-good his lifted hands he folds,
And thanks him low on his redeemed ground.

284.

As when sharp frosts had long constrained the earth,
A kindly thaw unlocks it with cold rain;
And first the tender blade peeps up to birth,
And straight the green fields laugh with promised grain.

285.

By such degrees the spreading gladness grew
In every heart which fear had froze before;
The standing streets with so much joy they view,
That with less grief the perished they deplore.

286.

The father of the people opened wide
His stores, and all the poor with plenty fed:
Thus God's anointed God's own place supplied,
And filled the empty with his daily bread.

287.

This royal bounty brought its own reward,
And in their minds so deep did print the sense,
That if their ruins sadly they regard,
'Tis but with fear the sight might drive him thence.

288.

But so may he live long, that town to sway,
Which by his auspice they will nobler make,
As he will hatch their ashes by his stay,
And not their humble ruins now forsake. [194]

289.

They have not lost their loyalty by fire;
Nor is their courage or their wealth so low,
That from his wars they poorly would retire,
Or beg the pity of a vanquished foe.

290.

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. [195]

291.

The utmost malice of the stars is past,
And two dire comets, which have scourged the town,
In their own plague and fire have breathed their last,
Or dimly in their sinking sockets frown.

292.

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. [196]

293.

Methinks already from this chemic flame,
I see a city of more precious mould;
Rich as the town[197] which gives the Indies name,
With silver paved, and all divine with gold.

294.

Already labouring with a mighty fate,
She shakes the rubbish from her mountain brow,
And seems to have renewed her charter's date,
Which heaven will to the death of time allow.

295.

More great than human now, and more august,[198]
Now deified she from her fires does rise;
Her widening streets on new foundations trust,
And opening into larger parts she flies. [199]

296.

Before, she like some shepherdess did show,
Who sat to bathe her by a river's side;
Not answering to her fame, but rude and low,
Nor taught the beauteous arts of modern pride.

297.

Now, like a maiden queen, she will behold,
From her high turrets, hourly suitors come;
The East with incense, and the West with gold,
Will stand like suppliants to receive her doom.

298.

The silver Thames, her own domestic flood,
Shall bear her vessels like a sweeping train;
And often wind, as of his mistress proud,
With longing eyes to meet her face again.

299.

The wealthy Tagus, and the wealthier Rhine,
The glory of their towns no more shall boast;
And Seyne, that would with Belgian rivers join,[200]
Shall find her lustre stained, and traffic lost.

300.

The venturous merchant, who designed more far,
And touches on our hospitable shore,
Charmed with the splendour of this northern star,
Shall here unlade him, and depart no more.

301.

Our powerful navy shall no longer meet,
The wealth of France or Holland to invade;
The beauty of this town, without a fleet,
From all the world shall vindicate her trade.

302.

And while this famed emporium we prepare,
The British ocean shall such triumphs boast,
That those, who now disdain our trade to share,
Shall rob like pirates on our wealthy coast.

303.
Already we have conquered half the war,
And the less dangerous part is left behind;
Our trouble now is but to make them dare,
And not so great to vanquish as to find. [201]

304.

Thus to the eastern wealth through storms we go,
But now, the Cape once doubled, fear no more;
A constant trade-wind will securely blow,
And gently lay us on the spicy shore. [202]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 98: Note I. ]

[Footnote 99: Precious stones at first are dew condensed, and hardened
by the warmth of the sun, or subterranean fires. _Dryden. _]

[Footnote 100: According to their opinion who think, that great heap of
waters under the Line, is depressed into tides by the moon towards the
poles. _Dryden. _]

[Footnote 101: Note II. ]

[Footnote 102: The Spaniard. ]

[Footnote 103: Note III. ]

[Footnote 104: Alluding to the successful war of Cromwell against the
Dutch, in 1653. ]

[Footnote 105: Note IV. ]

[Footnote 106:

_Cœruleus Proteus immania ponti
Armenta, et magnas pascit sub gurgite phocas. _
]

[Footnote 107: Note V. ]

[Footnote 108: The planet Venus, which was visible in the day-time
about the birth-day of Charles II. , was by court astronomers affirmed
to be a new star. See page 51. ]

[Footnote 109: Note VI. ]

[Footnote 110: Note VII. ]

[Footnote 111: Protesilaus, the first Grecian who landed on the Trojan
shore, was killed in disembarking. ]

[Footnote 112: Opdam, the admiral of Holland. See note VIII. ]

[Footnote 113: The war began, by mutual aggressions, on the coast of
Guinea. ]

[Footnote 114: Note IX. ]

[Footnote 115: Note X. ]

[Footnote 116: _Si bene calculum ponas, ubique fit naufragium. _
PETRONIUS. ]

[Footnote 117: Note XI. ]

[Footnote 118: Note XII. ]

[Footnote 119: Note XIII. ]

[Footnote 120: Prince Rupert, and duke Albemarle. See note XV. ]

[Footnote 121: Note XIV. ]

[Footnote 122: _Examina infantium, futurusque populus. _ Plin. jun. in
pan. ad Trajanum. ]

[Footnote 123: Note XVI. ]

[Footnote 124: Where the Olympic games were celebrated. ]

[Footnote 125: _Credas innare revulsas Cyclades. _]

[Footnote 126: "Ahey! what, in the wind's eye, brother? Where did you
learn your seamanship. "--_Commodore Trunnion. _]

[Footnote 127: _Built_, for _build_ or _structure_. ]

[Footnote 128: Note XVII. ]

[Footnote 129: Note XVIII. ]

[Footnote 130: The Gauls, when they first entered the Roman senate,
were so much struck with the solemn appearance of the venerable
senators on their chairs of state, that, for a time, their fury was
absorbed in veneration. --_Liv. His. _ Lib. V. cap. 41. ]

[Footnote 131: Note XIX. ]

[Footnote 132: Note XX. ]

[Footnote 133: _Spem vultu simulat, premit alto corde
dolorem. _--VIRGIL. ]

[Footnote 134: _Tell_, for _number_. ]

[Footnote 135: Note XXI. ]

[Footnote 136: Note XXII. ]

[Footnote 137: Note XXIII. ]

[Footnote 138:

_Ille autem ---- ---- ---- ----
Faucibus ingentem fumum, mirabile dictu
Evomit, involvitque domum caligine cæca,
Prospectum eripiens oculis, glomeratque sub antro
Fumiferam noctem, commixtis igne tenebris. _ VIRGIL.
]

[Footnote 139: A falcon, I believe, is said to _fly at check_, when,
having missed her stroke, she deserts her proper object of pursuit for
a crow, or some other bird. ]

[Footnote 140: Note XXIV. ]

[Footnote 141: Note XXV. ]

[Footnote 142: _Vestigia retro improperata refert. _--VIRGIL. ]

[Footnote 143:

_Nec trucibus fluviis idem sonus: occidit horror
Equoris, antennis maria acclinata quiescunt. _
STATIUS.
]

[Footnote 144: The third of June, famous for two victories by the
English fleet over the Dutch in 1653 and 1665. On the last occasion,
the fleets met on the third, though the Dutch avoided fighting till the
fourth of the month. ]

[Footnote 145: Note XXVI. ]

[Footnote 146: Note XXVII. ]

[Footnote 147:

_Quum medii nexus, extremæque agmina caudæ
Solvuntur; tardosque trahit sinus ultima orbes. _
VIRGIL.
]

[Footnote 148: Corruptly for _flax_; her _down_ or _fur_. ]

[Footnote 149:

---- ----_Quos opimus,
Fallere et effugere triumphus est. _ Note XXVIII.
]

[Footnote 150: Note XXIX. ]

[Footnote 151: Note XXX. ]

[Footnote 152: To _imp_, generally, is to ingraft; but here there is a
reference to falconry, in which, when the broken feather in a hawk's
wing is supplied by art, it is said to be _imp'd. _]

[Footnote 153:

_Qualis apes, æstate nova, per florea rura,
Exercet sub sole labor, cum gentis adultos
Educunt fœtus, aut cum liquentia mella
Stipant, et dulci distendunt nectare cellas;
Aut onera accipiunt venientum, aut agmine facto
Ignavum fucos pecus a præsepibus arcent;
Fervet opus, redolentque thymo fragrantia mella. _
Æneid. Lib. I.
]

[Footnote 154: Sweden was the only continental ally of Britain during
this war. ]

[Footnote 155: _Marline_, a piece of untwisted rope, dipped in pitch,
and wrapped round a cable to guard it. ]

[Footnote 156: _Tarpawling_, pitched canvas. ]

[Footnote 157: Note XXXI. ]

[Footnote 158: _Extra anni solisque vias. _--VIRGIL. ]

[Footnote 159: By a more exact measure of longitude. _Dryden. _]

[Footnote 160: Apostrophe to the Royal Society. ]

[Footnote 161: Note XXXII. ]

[Footnote 162: Note XXXIII. ]

[Footnote 163: Note XXXIV. ]

[Footnote 164: Note XXXV. ]

[Footnote 165: Note XXXVI. ]

[Footnote 166: Note XXXVII. ]

[Footnote 167: Note XXXVIII. ]

[Footnote 168: _Gross_, used as a substantive for "main body. "]

[Footnote 169: _Levat ipse tridenti, et vastas aperit syrtes. _--VIRGIL. ]

[Footnote 170: Note XXXIX. ]

[Footnote 171: _Expires_, in the unusual sense of "is blown forth. "]

[Footnote 172: _Possunt quia posse videntur. _--VIRGIL. ]

[Footnote 173: Note XL. ]

[Footnote 174: Spar-hawk. A lark is said to be _dared_ by any object of
terror which makes it sit close.

Farewell nobility! E'en let his grace go forward,
And dare us with his cap, like larks. ----
]

[Footnote 175: St James, patron of Spain, on whose festival this battle
was fought. See note XLI. ]

[Footnote 176: Philip II. of Spain, against whom the Hollanders
rebelling, were aided by Queen Elizabeth. See notes XLI. and XLII. ]

[Footnote 177: Note XLII. ]

[Footnote 178: Note XLIII. ]

[Footnote 179: Note XLIV. ]

[Footnote 180: _Hæc arte tractabat cupidum virum, ut illius animum
inopia accenderet. _]

[Footnote 181: Note XLV. ]

[Footnote 182: _Sigæa igni freta late relucent. _]

[Footnote 183: Note XLVI. ]

[Footnote 184: The word _gross_, as already noticed, signifies "main
body. " It was a military phrase of the time. ]

[Footnote 185: Note XLVII. ]

[Footnote 186: Note XLVIII. ]

[Footnote 187: Note XLIX. ]

[Footnote 188: Note L. ]

[Footnote 189: Note LI. ]

[Footnote 190: Note LII. ]

[Footnote 191: Note LIII. ]

[Footnote 192: Note LIV. ]

[Footnote 193: Note LV. ]

[Footnote 194: Alluding to the city's request to the king, not to leave
them. ]

[Footnote 195: Note LVI. ]

[Footnote 196: Note LVII. ]

[Footnote 197: Mexico. ]

[Footnote 198: _Augusta_, the old name of London. ]

[Footnote 199: Note LVIII. ]

[Footnote 200: Alluding to the alliance betwixt France and Holland. ]

[Footnote 201: The disgraceful surprise of Chatham, in 1667, baffled
this prophecy. ]

[Footnote 202: Referring to the monsoons, which the navigators fall in
with upon doubling the Cape of Good Hope. ]




NOTES

ON

ANNUS MIRABILIS.


Note I.

_In thriving arts long time had Holland grown,
Crouching at home, and cruel when abroad;
Scarce leaving us the means to claim our own;
Our king they courted, and our merchants awed. _
St. 1. p. 104.

The jealousy of commerce between Holland and England recommended
a Dutch war to the nation; while the king, insensible to the many
advances made him by the States, cherished a hearty detestation at
their mode of government, and the manners of their people in general.
Some of the regicides had sought shelter in Holland; and it was only
by the uncommon alertness of Downes, the British ambassador, that
they were seized and sent to England. Nay, De Witt, and other leaders
in the States, kept up a secret correspondence with Ludlow, and the
other banished republican English, in hopes that their party might yet
find work for Charles in his own kingdom. Meanwhile, they extended
beyond measure their personal deference for Charles; willing to avoid
a war, which, in any event, must be prejudicial to their commerce,
and which, from the valour which the English had displayed in 1653,
might probably be unfortunate. But the interest of the East Indian
and African Companies, both of which were highly favoured by Charles
in the beginning of his reign, and the unatoned injuries which they
had sustained from the Dutch, were a sufficient counterpoise to every
pacific overture on the part of Holland.


Note II.

_And this may prove our second Punic war. _
St. 5. p. 105.

The first being that which the Parliament declared against the States,
and which Cromwell carried on with great success in 1653-4.


Note III.

_See how he feeds the Iberian with delays,
To render us his timely friendship vain;
And while his secret soul on Flanders preys,
He rocks the cradle of the babe of Spain. _
St. 8. p. 105.

France, a nation ever remarkable for seeing, almost intuitively, her
own interest, was not willing that the domineering spirit of Cromwell
should revive under the restored monarchy of England. Richelieu had
been forced to comply, to a certain extent, with the rash, and often
impolitic, but always energetic and daring, schemes of the Protector,
endeavouring, at the same time, to make them subservient to his own
purposes. But when there was no danger of England uniting with Spain
and Holland against France, it was much more the interest of that
kingdom, that the two great naval powers should waste their strength
in mutual warfare, or even that France should assist the weaker, than
that she should join with the stronger, to oppress the other entirely.
Besides, the French faction, with De Witt at their head, was now
paramount in Holland; and the indirect effect of any signal success of
the English must be the restoration of the house of Orange, so closely
allied to Charles II. , and the hereditary enemy of France, to the
dignity of the office of Stadtholder; an office, which, with the family
who held it, has been uniformly respected or degraded, as the English
or French faction prevailed in the United Provinces. The French court
had therefore various reasons for making the Dutch "lords by sea,"
since they could give them "law by land;" and these finally weighed so
deeply, as to lead them to take a part, though but a cold one, against
Britain in this very war.

The Spanish provinces in the Netherlands had always been the object of
French cupidity; and, according to count D'Estrade, a scheme was now
formed for dividing them between France and Holland; which, however,
the French court took great and successful care to conceal from the
party who were to be sufferers. This policy Dryden has termed, "rocking
the cradle of the babe of Spain. "


Note IV.

_Him aged seamen might their master call,
And chuse for general, were he not their king. _
St. 14. p. 107.

"As it is on all hands confessed, that never any English, perhaps I
might say, any prince, without distinction of countries, understood
maritime affairs so well as Charles II. did; so it cannot surprise any
intelligent reader, when we assert, that the English navy received
very great advantages from his skill and care in matters of this
nature. It must indeed be allowed, that he found the fleet, at his
restoration, in an excellent situation, and abundance of very able men
employed therein; and it must likewise be confessed, to the honour
of his government, that he preserved them in their several posts,
without any respect to party, which, without question, contributed not
a little to the increase of our naval power. How intent he was, for
the first ten years of his reign, in promoting whatever had a tendency
this way, appears from all the candid histories of those times, from
the collections of orders, and other public papers relating to the
direction of the navy while the duke of York was admiral, published of
late;[203] and, in a short and narrow compass, from the speech made
by the lord-keeper Bridgeman, who affirmed, that, from 1660 to 1670,
the charge of the navy had never amounted to less than 500,000l. a
year. "--_Lives of the Admirals_, Vol. II. p. 331.


Note V.

_And heaven, as if there wanted lights above,
For tapers made two glaring comets rise. _
St.