On the gently-fwelling flood,
At midnight, with ftreamers flying,
Our triumphant navy rode;
There while Vernon fate all-glorious
From the Spaniards late defeat,
And his crews, with fhouts victorious,
Drank fuccefs to Englands fleet,
On a fudden, fhrilly founding,
Hideous yells and shrieks were heard ;
Then, each heart with fear confounding,
A fad troop of ghofts appear'd;
All in dreary hammocks fhrouded,
Which for winding-fheets they wore,
And, with looks by forrow clouded,
Frowning on that hoftile fhore.
These elegant ftanzas were written (chiefly, perhaps, with a defign to incenfe the public against the maladministration of fir Robert Walpole) on the taking of Porto-Bello, from the Spaniards, by admiral Vernon, in 1739. The circumftances attending the death of admiral Hofier, which happened in thofe parts, 1726, are recorded in hiftory nearly in the fame manner as they are reprefented in the fong.
On them gleam'd the moons wan luftre,
When the fhade of Hofier brave
His pale bands was feen to muster,
Rifing from their wat❜ry grave:
O'er the glimmering wave he hied him,
Where the Burford rear'd her fail,
With three thousand ghofts befide him,
And in groans did Vernon hail.
Heed, oh! heed our fatal ftory;
I am Hofiers injur'd ghoft;
You who now have purchas'd glory
At this place where I was loft,
Though in Porto-Bellos ruin
You now triumph, free from fears,
When you think on my undoing,
You will mix your joys with tears.
See thefe mournful fpectres, fweeping
Ghaftly o'er this hated wave,
Whose wan cheeks are ftain'd with weeping;
These were English captains brave:
Mark thofe numbers, pale and horrid,
Who were once my failors bold;
Lo! each hangs his drooping forehead,
While his dismal tale is told.
I, by twenty fail attended,
Did this Spanish town affright,
Nothing then its wealth defended,
But my orders, not to fight:
VOL. II.
Oh! that in this rolling ocean
I had caft them with disdain,
And obey'd my hearts warm motion
To have quell'd the pride of Spain.
For refiftance I could fear none,
But with twenty fhips had done
What thou, brave and happy Vernon,
Haft atchiev'd with fix alone.
Then the Bastimentos never
Had our foul dishonour feen,
or the fea the fad receiver
Of this gallant train had been.
Thus, like thee, proud Spain difmaying,
And her galleons leading home,
Though, condemn'd for difobeying,
I had met a traitors dɔɔm;
To have fall'n, my country crying,
He has play'd an English part,
Had been better far than dying
Of a griev'd and broken heart.
Unrepining at thy glory,
Thy fuccessful arms we hail;
But remember our fad ftory,
And let Hofiers wrongs prevail.
Sent in this foul clime to languish,
Think what thousands fell in vain,
Wafted with disease and anguish,
Not in glorious battle flain.
Hence with all my train attending
From their oozy tombs below,
Through the hoary foam afcending,
Here I feed my conftant woe :
Here the Bastimentos viewing,
We recall our fhameful doom,
And, our plaintive cries renewing,
Wander through the midnight gloom.
O'er thefe waves, for ever mourning,
Shall we roam, depriv'd of reft,
If, to Britains fhores returning,
You neglect my juft request:
After this proud foe fubduing,
When your patriot friends you fee,
Think on vengeance for my ruin,
And for England-sham'd in me.
HE mufe and the hero together are fir'd,
The fame noble views have their bosoms inspir'd ;
As freedom they love, and for glory contend,
The mufe o'er the hero ftill mourns as a friend:
And here let the mufe her poor tribute bequeath
To one British hero,-'tis brave captain Death!
* Written, as it is faid, by one of his surviving crew.
His ship was the Terrible,-dreadful to see!
His crew were as brave, and as gallant as he;
Two hundred, or more, was their good complement,
And fure braver fellows to fea never went :
Each man was determin'd to spend his last breath
In fighting for Britain, and brave captain Death.
A prize they had taken diminish'd their force,
And foon the good prize-fhip was loft in her course:
The French privateer * and the Terrible met ;—
The battle begun,—all with horror beset:
No heart was difmay'd,—each as bold as Macbeth ;—
They fought for Old-England, and brave captain Death.
Fire, thunder, balls, bullets, were feen, heard, and felt;
A fight that the heart of Bellona would melt!
The shrouds were all torn, and the decks fill'd with blood,
And scores of dead bodies were thrown in the flood:-*
The flood, from the days of old Noah and Seth,
Ne'er faw fuch a man as our brave captain Death.
At last the dread bullet came wing'd with his fate,
Our brave captain dropp'd,—and foon after his mates—
* Called the Vengeance.The ftrange circumftance mentioned by fome writers of one of the Terribles lieutenants being named Devil, the furgeon Ghoft, and of her having been fitted out at Executiondock, feems entirely void of foundation.
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