The Dutch Damnified: OR, The Butter-Boxes Bob'd.

Being a brief and true account how Sir Robert Holme, Sir Phillip Howard, and Sir William Jennings, with Eleven Companies of Foot, Five Fire-ships, and some Ketches, and Boats, Burnt and Destroy'd near a Hundred and Sixty Saile of Dutch Ships in the Uly. As also they Burnt the rich Town of Bran­daris, in the Icland of Schelling, consisting of above A Thousand Houses, Richly Fur­nisht, with Goods of extraordinary value. Our Seamen and Souldiers returning Richly laden with their Enemies Spoyle, being sufficiently rewarded for their Noble enterprise, and all this performed (by Gods Providence) with the losse of Ten Men on our side.

The Tune is, A Fig For France, and Holland too, &c.
[figure]
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R [...]n [...] Bells for joy, let none be sad,
For now we have news will make you glad
[...] make you blith and merry too,
[...]o s [...] how the Dutch are forc'd to bow:
Their brags and boasts will not prevail,
We'le[?] teach them for to lowre their Sail.
Then Hogan Mogans b'ware your Pates,
For now we shall make you distressed States.
We paid you home in July last,
And soundly did your sides bumbast,
If that you had not swiftly run,
You surely had been quite undone:
But now we landed on your shore,
And found the way to make you poor.
Then Hogan Mogans b'ware your Pates,
For now we shall make you distressed States.
For all your idle vain excuses,
E're long we shall pull up your Sluces,
Our men have found the way to land
As you by this will understand:
It will be but a bitter Pill,
When such sad news your hearts do fill.
Then Hogan Mogans b'ware your Pates,
For now we shall make you distressed States.
You in your Harbours lurk for fear,
Not thinking such bad news to hear,
We scorn to come and steal your Shéep,
And then like Thieves away to créep:
Your Towns to Burn, and Ships to fire
Is work that Englishmen desire.
Then Hogan Mogans b'ware your Pates,
For now we shall make you distressed states.
[figure]
SIr Robert Holmes that Valiant Knight,
Had orders upon Tuesday night,
The Uly Icland for to burn,
And quite destroy't ere be return:
Sir Philip Howard did him assist,
Sir William Jennings he did his best.
Then Hogan Mogans curse your Fates,
For now we shall make you distressed States.
They chose eleven hundred men,
To pull the Dutch out of their Den,
With Fire-ships, Ketches, Boats & Hoyes
Well mann'd with lusty English Boyes:
With joyful hearts they leave the Fléet,
And sayle away their Foes to méet.
Then Hogan Mogan curse your Fates,
For now we shall make you distressed States.
At length they spy'd without all faile
One hundred and seventy Saile.
Of Merchant Ships which anchored were,
In Uly road, being void of fear,
Sir Robert Holmes he thought it meet,
With Fire-Ships to destroy that Fleet.
Then Hogan Mogans 'ware your pates,
For now we shall make you distressed States.
So hotly they pursued the game,
That straight the fleet was on a flame,
Some Frigats which the rest did guard,
Iust like their Neighbours so they far'd;
Our men most furiously were bent,
And burnt them down incontinent.
Then Hogan Mogans 'ware your pates,
For now we shall make you distressed States.
This being done away we haste,
The Schelling Island for to waste,
And there we fright our Cowardly foes,
And land our men where none oppose.
Then up we martch into the Isle,
Our crafty foes for to beguile.
Then Hogan Mogans ware your pates,
For now we shall make you distressed States.
When they heard of our coming nigh,
Away they fled, all that could flye,
And left their goods and all the rest,
To be dispos'd as we thought best.
The bravest Town in all that place,
We burnt quite down, and did deface.
Then Hogan Mogans beware your pates,
For now we shall make you distressed States.
Our men had plunder there good store,
To make them rich, they'l ne'r be poor,
They brought away great store of plate,
And now they quaff their cups in state;
Their Cabbins are like Gold-smith shops,
God send us many such like crops.
Then Hogan Mogans curse your fates,
For now we shall make you distressed States.
Their trugtaild' Frows were in a maze,
To see their town all on a blaze,
They wept and waild, & wrung their jaws,
And curst their States, which was the cause,
May all that's enemies to our King,
Be brought to such like banquetting.
Then Hogan Mogans curse your Fates,
For now we shall make you distressed States▪

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. wright.

With Allowance.

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