The fourth volume of letters writ by a Turkish spy who lived five and forty years undiscover'd at Paris : giving an impartial account to the Divan at Constantinople of the most remarkable transactions of Europe, and discovering several intrigues and secrets of the Christian courts (especially of that of France) continued from the year 1642 to the year 1682 / written originally in Arabick, translated into Italian, and from thence into English, by the translator of the first volume.

LETTER XVI.

To the Captain Bassa.

THou that art a Man of War, delightest, no Doubt, to hear of Combats and Bat∣tels. And I tell thee, That since the Begin∣ning of the World, there have never been known such dreadful Sea-Fights, as during the present War between the English and Dutch. It seems, there is an Emulation sprung up in the Latter: They grudge the Inhabitants of Britain the Character, which has been given 'em from all Antiquity, Of being the most Victorious on that Element, of any Nation on the Earth.

'Tis possible there may be some more par∣ticular Grounds of their present Quarrel, to which I am a Stranger. But assuredly, they have pursu'd their Animosities very eagerly on both Sides. And, let the Occasion be what it will, the Dutch are still Losers.

I sent thee an Account of a Combat be∣tween their Fleets last Year, since which they have had many other Engagements. And 'tis said here, that during this War, the English have taken from the Dutch, near Two Thou∣sand Merchant Vessels; have Sunk and Burnt many of their Ships of War, slain some of their Chief Commanders, spoil'd their Trade, and reduc'd 'em almost to as great Streights, as when they first courted the Protection of the

English against their Sovereign, the King of Spain, from whom they had then newly Re∣volted.

But the most terrible Conflict was, on the Second of this Moon, wherein the Dutch had Seven and Twenty of their Greatest Ships, ei∣ther sunk or burnt, Two Thousand of their Seamen and Soldiers kill'd, and a Thousand taken Prisoners, with many Captains. That Great General Trump, whom I mention'd in my Last, was slain in this Fight, after he had perform'd Prodigies of Valour.

The French say, that during the Heat of this Engagement, Trump being excessive Thir∣sty, call'd for a Bowl of Wine; which his Servant had no sooner deliver'd to him, but a Cannon-Bullet took his Hand off, just as he was retiring from his Master. The brave General touch'd with a Noble Compassion, spilt the Wine on the Deck, say∣ing, It is not fit that I should quench my Thirst, with the Blood of a Faithful Slave. And as soon as he had spoke these Words, another Bullet took from him, the Power of ever drinking again.

If such an Accident should happen to thee, when thou fightest against the Infidels, know for certain, that thou shalt be immediately transported to the Green and Shady Banks of the Rivers of Wine in Paradise, where thou may'st drink thy Fill in Eternal Security. For he that dies fighting for the Faith, is a Martyr.

Paris, 12th. of the 8th. Moon, of the Year 1653.