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 EARLY ENGLISH POETRY, 
 BALLADS, 
 
 AND POPULAR LITERATURE 
 OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 
 
 EDITED FROM ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPTS 
 AND SCARCE PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 4 vi 3 f n> 
 
 LONDON 
 PRINTED FOR THE PERCY SOCIETY, 
 
 HV T. RlCHARnS, ST. MAUTINS l,ANK. 
 M.DCCC.XI..
 
 *<- » «* I'-i •>*• • • • • • •
 
 V, \ 
 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. L 
 
 
 X 
 c 
 
 OLD BALLADS FROM EARLY PRINTED COPIES. 
 
 EDITED BY J. PAYNE COLLIER, ESQ. F.S.A. 
 
 SONGS AND BALLADS RELATIVE TO THE LONDON 
 PRENTICES. 
 
 EDITED BY CHAKI.ES MACitAT, ESQ. 
 
 HISTORICAL SONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 EDITED BY T. CROFTON CROKER, ESQ. 
 
 PAIN AND SORROW OF EVIL MARRIAGE. 
 
 EDITED BY J. TAVNE COLLIER, ESQ. F.S.A. 
 
 THE KING AND A POOR NORTHERN MAN. 
 
 EDITED BY J. PAYNE COLLIER, ESQ. F.S.A.
 
 X)LD BALLADS.
 
 eitf l^allati^, 
 
 EARLY PRINTED COPIES 
 
 OF THE UTMOST RARITY. 
 
 ^oiD for ti)€ fivjit tunc colUctttl. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 J. PAYNE COLLIER, ESQ. F.S.A. 
 
 LONDON : 
 PRINTED FOR THE PERCY SOCIETY, 
 
 BY C. RICHARDS, ST. MARTIN'S LANE.
 
 COUNCIL 
 
 €f)t ^eitp ^otittn* 
 
 J. A. CAHUSAC, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 WILLIAM CHAPPELL, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 JOHN PAYNE COLLIER, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 T. CROFTON CROKER, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 REV. ALEXANDER DYCE. 
 
 RICHARD HALLIWELL, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL, Esq. F.R.S. Treasurer. 
 
 WILLIAM JERDAN, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 SAMUEL LOVER, Esq. 
 
 CHARLES MAC KAY, Esq. 
 
 E. F. RIMBAULT, Esq. Sccrctanj. ^ 
 
 THOMAS WRIGHT, Esq. M.A. F.S.A
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The following Ballads are reprinted from the 
 original broadsides, which were published at various 
 dates between the middle of the sixteenth and the 
 beginning of the seventeenth centuries. Nearly 
 all of them are from the only existing copies ; 
 and of the few which are not absolutely unique 
 not more than two or three impressions are 
 known. 
 
 It was thought that they would be a curious 
 and valuable addition to the published specimens 
 of our early popular literature, and therefore an 
 appropriate commencement to the labours of The 
 Percy Society. 
 
 The reader who has devoted attention to relics 
 of this description, will not be surprised to observe
 
 among the contributors to the present volume, 
 such popular ballad-wj-iters as William Elderton, 
 Thomas Churchyard, and Thomas Deloney ; but 
 he will peruse with great interest the compo- 
 sitions of men like John Skelton, Richard Tarl- 
 ton, William Fulwood, and Thomas Preston, 
 now for the first time included among authors of 
 this class ; while the names of Stephen Peele, 
 Ralph Norris, and Robert Seall, will be new to 
 our most learned antiquaries. 
 
 The Ballads are reprinted precisely as they 
 stand in the old copies, (including the titles and 
 the imprints) with the exception of corrected 
 punctuation. Such illustrative matter as was 
 considered necessary, will be found to precede 
 each separate production.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGK 
 
 1 . The Maner of the Worhl now a ilayes. By John Skelton 1 
 
 "i. Of Misrules contending with Gods l\'orde by name, 
 And then of ones judgment that heard of the same. 
 
 By WiUiam Kethe . . . 'i 
 
 3. A new Balade made by Nicholas Balthorp, which sufl'ered in 
 
 Calys the XV daieof Marche M.D.L. . . .13 
 
 4. An Epitaph upon the death of Kyng Edward . . .17 
 
 0. A new mery Balad of a Maid that wold mary wy th a Servyng 
 
 Man. By Thomas Eniley . . . .21 
 
 C. The Panges of Love and Lover.s Fittes. By William Elderton 2.') 
 
 7. The cruel Assault of Gods Fort. By John Awdeley . . 28 
 
 5. A new Balet entituled howe to vvyve well. By Lewis Evans 87 
 
 0. A new Balade of the worthy service of late doen by Maister 
 
 Strangwige in Fraunce, and of his Death. By \V. Birch . 1 1 
 
 10. The Lamentation of Follie. By William Elderton . 1.5 
 
 1 1 . Against filthy writing and such like <lelighting. By Thomas 
 
 Brice . . . . . . . lil 
 
 12. A proper new Balade expressyng the fames 
 Concerning a Warning to all London Dames. 
 
 By Stephen Peele . . .52
 
 13. A Supplication to Elilertouue for Leaclie's unlewdnes, 
 Desiring him to pardone his manifest unrudenes. 
 
 By William Fulwood . .56 
 
 14. A Lftter from Rome to declare to the Pope 
 John Felton his frcend is hangd in a rope : 
 And farther, a right his Grace to informe 
 He dyed a Papist and seemd not to tnrne. 
 
 By Stephen Peele . . . . . C4 
 
 ;,- 15. A Lamentation from Rome how the Pope doth hewayle 
 Tliat Rehelles in England can not prevayle. 
 
 By Thomas Preston . . . .68 
 
 16. A Commendation of the adventerus Viage of the wnrthy 
 
 Captain M. Thomas Stutely, csqnyer, and others, towards 
 the land called Terra Florida. By Robert Seall . . 72 
 
 17. A very lamentable and wofull Discours of the fierce Finds 
 
 which lately flowed in Bedford shire, in Lincoln shire, and 
 in many other places, with the great losses of sheep and 
 otlier cattel, the 5 of October 1570. By Richard Tarlton . 7S 
 
 ^ 18. A fi-ee Admonition without any fees, 
 
 To warne the Papistes to beware of three trees. 
 
 By G. B. . . 85 
 
 19. A Warning to London by the Fall of Antwerp. By Ralph 
 
 Norris . . . . . . .80 
 
 20. A worthy mirrour, wherin ye may marke 
 An excellent Discourse of a breeding Larke ; 
 By readyng wherof perceyve well ye may 
 What trust is in freendes or on kinsfolks to stay. 
 
 By Arthur Bour . . .92 
 
 21. A proper now Ballad, breefely declaring the Death and Exe- 
 
 cution of 14 most wicked Traitors, who suffered Death in 
 Lincolncs Inue Fielde, neero London, the 20 and 21 of 
 September 1586. By Thomas Deloney . . . 101
 
 22. A Farewell, cauld Churcheyeards Rouude, 
 From the court to the cimtry ground. 
 
 By Thomas Churchyard .... 107 
 
 23. A joj'ful Song of the royall receiving of the Quecnes most 
 
 excellent Majestic into her Highnesse campe at Tilshurie, 
 in Essex, on Thursday and Frj'day the eight and ninth of 
 August 1588. By T.J. . . .110 
 
 24. Luke Hutton's Lamentation, which he wrote the day before 
 
 his Death, being condemned to be hanged at Yorke this 
 last Assises for his robberies and trespasses committed . 117 
 
 25. A lamentable Dittie composed upon the Death of Robert Lord 
 
 Devereux, late Earle of Essex, who was beheaded in the 
 Tower of London upon Ash Wednesday in the morning . 123
 
 SATIRICAL BALLAD ON THE TIMES. 
 
 Not only the initials at the end of the following ballad, " Finis 
 J. S.," but internal evidence, assign it to the humorous and 
 severe pen of the celebrated John Skelton. It is highly curious 
 and amusing as a picture of the times when it was written, but it 
 was not printed until after the death of the author, unless the copy 
 from which our transcript was made (in the Collection of the late 
 Mr. Heber) were itself a re-impression of some earlier edition. 
 W. Copland printed between 1548 and 1561, at least none of the 
 dated productions of his press are earlier or later ; it is fair to infer, 
 therefore, that the subsequent undated ballad appeared in the in- 
 terval. Several temporary allusions, and the ridicule of particular 
 fashions, may serve to ascertain pretty correctly the period when 
 it was composed. It will be observed that towards the close the 
 author changes his measiire, and employs at last those short lines 
 which obtained from him the appellation of " Skeltonic verses,'' 
 and does not even observe the form of stanza with which he had 
 commenced. The complaint, that there are " so few buyers of 
 books,'' came very naturally from one who was perhaps our first 
 author by profession. It should be mentioned, that in the 
 Register of the Abbey of Missenden (Sloane MSS. No. 747) is a 
 ballad in the same metre as the succeeding, and evidently only 
 a different and briefer version of it. It has no author's name, nor 
 initials appended, and is in a hand-writing of the time of Henry 
 VII. or VIII. It ends thus; 
 
 " God save our sovereign jord the kyuge, 
 And all his ryall kepinge. 
 For so noble a prince reyningc, 
 Sawe I never."
 
 ()].!) BALLADS, 
 
 THE MANER Ol-' THE WORLD NOW A DAYES. 
 
 So many poynted caps, 
 Lased with double flaps, 
 And so gay felted hats, 
 
 Sawe I never. 
 So many good lessons, 
 So many good sermons. 
 And so few devocions, 
 
 Sawe I never. 
 
 So many gardes worne. 
 Jagged and al to torne. 
 And so many falsely forsworne, 
 
 Sawe I never. 
 So few good polycies 
 In townes and cytyes 
 For kepinge of blinde hostryes, 
 
 Sawe I never. 
 
 So many good warkes. 
 
 So few wel lerned clarkes, 
 
 And so few that goodnes markes, 
 
 Sawe I never : 
 Such pranked cotes and sieves. 
 So few yonge men that preves, 
 And such encrease of theves, 
 
 Sawe 1 never. 
 
 So many garded hose. 
 Such cornede shoes, 
 And so many envious foes, 
 Sawe I never :
 
 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 So many questes sytte 
 With men of smale wit, 
 And so many falsely quitte, 
 Sawe I never., 
 
 So many gay swordes, 
 So many altered wordes, 
 And so few covered hordes, 
 
 Sawe I never : 
 So many empti purses. 
 So few good horses, 
 And so many curses, 
 
 Sawe I never. 
 
 Such bosters and braggers, 
 So newe fashyoned daggers, 
 And so many beggers, 
 
 Sawe I never : 
 So many propre knyves, 
 So well apparrelled wyves, 
 And so yll of theyr lyves, 
 
 Saw I never. 
 
 So many cockolde makers. 
 
 So many crakers. 
 
 And so many peace breakers, 
 
 Saw I never : 
 So much vayne clothing, 
 Witli cultyng and jagging, 
 And so much bragginge, 
 
 Saw I never. b 2
 
 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 So many newes and knackes, 
 So many naughty packes, 
 And so many that mony lackes. 
 
 Saw I never : 
 So many maidens with child, 
 And wylfully begylde, 
 And so many places untildr,, 
 
 Sawe I never. 
 
 So many women blamed, 
 And rightuously defaimed. 
 And so lytle ashamed, 
 
 Sawe I never: 
 Widowes so sone wed 
 After their husbandes be deade, 
 Having such hast to bed, 
 
 Sawe I never. 
 
 So much strivinge 
 
 For goodes and ibr wivinge. 
 
 And so lytle thryvynge, 
 
 Sawe I never : 
 So many capacities. 
 Offices and pluralites, 
 And chaunging of dignities, 
 
 Sawe I never. 
 
 So many lawes to use 
 The truth to refuse, 
 Suche falshead to excuse, 
 Sawe I never :
 
 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Executers havinge the ware, 
 Taking so littel care 
 Howe the soule dotli fare, 
 Sawe I never. 
 
 Amonge them that are riche 
 No frendshyp is to kepe tuche, 
 And such fayre glosing speche, 
 
 Sawe I never : 
 So many pore 
 In every bordoure, 
 And so small soccoure, 
 
 Saw I never. 
 
 So proude and so gaye, 
 So riche in araye, 
 And so skant of money, 
 
 Saw I never : 
 So many bowyers, 
 So many fletchers, 
 And so few good archers, 
 
 Saw I never. 
 
 So many chepers. 
 
 So fewe biers, 
 
 And so many borovvers, 
 
 Sawe I never: 
 So many alle sellers, 
 In baudy holes and sellers. 
 Of yonge folkes yll counsellers, 
 
 Sawe I never.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 So many pinkers. 
 So many thinkers, 
 And so many good ale drinkers, 
 
 Savve I never : 
 So many wronges, 
 So few mery songes. 
 And so many yll tonges, 
 
 Savve I never. 
 
 So many a vacabounde 
 
 Throvigh al this londe, 
 
 And so many in pryson bonde, 
 
 I sawe never : 
 So many citacions, 
 So fewe oblacions, 
 And so many newe lacions, 
 
 Sawe I never. 
 
 So many tieyng tales, 
 Pickers of purses and males, 
 And so many sales, 
 
 Saw I never: 
 So much preachinge, 
 Speaking fayre and teaching, 
 And so ill belevinge, 
 
 Saw I never. 
 
 So much wrath and envy. 
 Covetous and glottony, 
 And so litle charitie, 
 Sawe I never :
 
 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 So many carders, 
 Revelers and dicers, 
 And so many yl ticers, 
 Savve I never. 
 
 So many lollers. 
 
 So few true tollers, 
 
 So many baudes and pollers, 
 
 Sawe I never : 
 Such treachery, 
 Simony and usury, 
 Poverty and lechery. 
 
 Saw I never. 
 
 So many avayles. 
 
 So many geales. 
 
 And so many lals baylies, 
 
 Sawe I never : 
 By fals and subtyll wayes 
 All England decayes, 
 For more envy and lyers 
 
 Sawe I never. 
 
 So new facioned jackes. 
 
 With brode flappes in the neckes, 
 
 And so gay new partlettes, 
 
 Sawe I never : 
 So many slutteshe cookes, 
 So new facioned tucking hookes, 
 And so few biers of bookes. 
 Saw I never.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Sometime we song of myrtb and play. 
 But now our joy is gone away. 
 For so many fal in decay, 
 
 Sawe I never : 
 Whither is the welth of England gon ? 
 The spiritual saith they have none, 
 And so many wrongfully undone, 
 
 Saw I never. 
 
 It is great pitie that every day 
 
 So many brybors go by the way, 
 
 And £0 many extorcioners in eche cuntrey, 
 
 Sawe I never. 
 To the lord I make my mone, 
 For thou maist healpe us everichone : 
 Alas, the people is so wo begone. 
 
 Worse was it never. 
 
 Amendment 
 
 Were convenient. 
 
 But it may not be; 
 
 We have exiled veritie. 
 
 God is neither dead nor sicke. 
 
 He may amend al yet, 
 
 And trowe ye so in dede, 
 
 As ye beleve ye shal have mede. 
 
 After better I hope ever. 
 
 For worse was it never. 
 
 Finis. J. S. 
 
 Imprinted at London in Flete Strete at the signe of the Rose 
 Garland by W. Copland.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 MISRULE AND GOD'S WORD. 
 
 The last stanza of the following ballad carries it back to the reign 
 of Edward VI., when it most likely came from Singleton's press : 
 none of his dated performances are, however, earlier than 1553, 
 and he continued in the trade until 1592. The author, "William 
 Keth, was a zealous preacher and reformer, and such of his works 
 as are known were intended to promote and confirm the change 
 in religion, beginning with his ballad called " Tye thy mare Tom 
 boye," which probably was only a " moralization" of an older tune. 
 He translated some of the Psalms, and was a friend to John Knox, 
 and added a version of the 94th Psalm to " the Appellation of 
 John Knox," 1.558. Ritson (Bibl. Poet. 262) quotes the title of 
 the ballad inserted below with an important error, in which he is 
 followed by Dr. Dibdin, who does not appear to have seen the 
 original. Hugh Singleton also printed " William Keth his 
 Seeing Glasse,'' which came out in the time of Queen Mary, 
 while the writer was in exile at Frankfort. 
 
 OF MISRULES CONTENDING WITH <JODS VVORDE BV NAME, 
 AND THEN OK ONES JUDGMENT THAT HEARD OF THE SAME. 
 
 I HEARE saie, that some saie, ther chaunsed of late 
 Betwene one mad misrule and godde's word great hate ; 
 The cause of there out fall (as some saye) is this : 
 By here saye I harde it, now marke what it is. 
 
 This misrule was moved and inadde in his mynde, 
 That goddes worde with great men such grace shuki 
 
 still finde, 
 Wherby as an outcaste he myght be rejecte : 
 Thys some say, and here saye to be the effecte.
 
 10 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 But douting where all things whyche some saye were 
 
 ryght, 
 Sith some saye by here saye a lye spred be myght, 
 I sought, and harde some saye they did it beholde, 
 By whose wordes of credit my doutes were resolved. 
 
 But now to my purpose agayne for to come. 
 This misrule through madnes at last frynds had some, 
 Of wliome he gat comforte, as it maye Avell seme, 
 His boldnes well wayed, who would not so deme? 
 
 And beyng in favor at laste well was he, 
 That could unto mysrule from good order flee, 
 Who lost not ther labor, as some saye, for that, 
 But were well esteraed, and had, I harde what. 
 
 That gods worde muche lothing could it not abyde. 
 But stepped fourth boldly and misrule defied, 
 Wyshing from misrule all men to refrayne. 
 As from a thing noysome, to vile and to vayne. 
 
 But misrule, that hearyng, beganne for to starte, 
 Lyke one that were vexed, and that to the harte, 
 As it well aperethe by his subtil shyft, 
 Who so well can ponder the truth of his dryft. 
 
 He knew well he could not godde's worde well withstond, 
 To mete him as men do that fyght hand to hand. 
 But sought his fetch farder, by couler to crave. 
 And so under couler godde ,s worde to deprave.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 11 
 
 But now, if in conscience speake frely I maye, 
 
 In mynde I digresse not from that whyche some saye : 
 
 If mysrule mayntayned be, and seke to ascend, 
 
 In this casse I doute muche, but marke well the ende. 
 
 What regyons to ruyn hath there not bene brought, 
 Where misrule was chosen, and good rule unsought ; 
 Weales publick full welthy to nought brought it hath, 
 For mysrule to myschiefe must nedes be the path. 
 
 What caused god's wrath all fleshe to distroye, 
 Save onely viii parsons with olde father Noye, 
 But for that this misrule god's worde did deface, 
 And moved that all men misrule shuld imbrace. 
 
 In Sodom and Gomor suche lyke stryffe began 
 Betvvene this madde mysrule and gods worde ; but than, 
 Could god longe abide it, when he in his fume 
 With sulphire and brimston mysrule dyd consume ? 
 
 His owne Jewish people, as ofte as they ranne 
 
 A maddying with mysrule, wyth plages God beganne ; 
 
 To lerne us that mysrule he alwayes did hate. 
 
 And yet (alas) se you iiow he plaith chek mate. 
 
 By misrule the subjectes be so far past grace, 
 Theyr heddes and iheir rulers they know not in place ; 
 But lyke to beastes brutall, with ungodly strife. 
 As rebelles resyst wyll with losse of their lyfe.
 
 12 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 What law is so strayt niade they feare not to breake ? 
 What threat can such tounges stoppe they feare not to 
 
 speake ? 
 What doctrine can dry ve them to know what they be ? 
 Wliat myschief may move them, that onely they se. 
 
 What nede mo examples then this our owne realme, 
 To teach us that mysrule hath bene so extrearae, 
 In preasinge so proudly to noble welfare. 
 As some saye so boldly as it were Jack Hare. 
 
 And so under couler of spare and beware, 
 
 To taunt at god's preachers as muche as they dare, 
 
 Sayeng such passe not, by here saye to go, 
 
 And preach in ther pulpittes that thus some saye so. 
 
 Of some saye and here say this well tell I canne. 
 That hei'e say and some say the truth now and than. 
 Of such as both some saye and here saye dysdayne, 
 Bycause that both here saye and some saye so playne. 
 
 But be it that some saye by here say a misse. 
 And saye not (through here say) the truth as it is. 
 Doth it therfore folow for that thinge fourth brought. 
 That al thinges whyche some say therfore shuld be 
 nought ? 
 
 If it be unlawful! by here say to wade, 
 I mervell what PauU ment to use the same trade. 
 Who speaking by here say belyve did the same, 
 Which purgeth (as some saye) the rest from all blame.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 13 
 
 Bat god's vvorde of one thing hath cause to rejoj se, 
 For that this sharpe taunting is but mysrule's voyce, 
 Who beinge accepted, to muche thus I feare, 
 Of ryght shuld leave courtinge, and not remayne there. 
 
 But who shall stand douting, when our noble Kynge 
 Wyth his faythfull counsaill perceave shall the thingo, 
 But that they wyll shortly mysrule so represse, 
 That glad shal the good be to se suche redresse. 
 
 Finis. Quod Wyllyam Kethe. 
 Dominus mihi adjutor. 
 
 Imprynted at London in Temestrate by Heugh Syngelton 
 dwellynge oveigaynst the Stiliardes. 
 
 BALTHORFS BALLAD. 
 
 For what offence Nicholas Balthoip "suffered in Calais" in 1550 
 is no vifhere mentioned, and the subsequent ballad contains only an 
 obscure and general hint, where the writer thus accuses himself: 
 
 " Thou haste me caused to offende 
 In folowing muche thi fleshely wij ; 
 But, God willing, now I shal amend, 
 In token where of I do the kil," &c. 
 
 Which might lead us to suppose that he had committed suicide, 
 did not the title of the ballad seem to contradict it. Ritson conjec- 
 tures, no doubt rightl)', that he was the same as Nycholas 
 Baltroppe, who wrote " a ballet of mode," licensed to John 
 Walley and the widow Toy in 1557 (Bibl. Poet. 124), of course 
 after the author's death. The last dated book by Walley is in 
 1558, and it seems likely that the ensuing broad-side came out 
 very soon after the event to which it refers.
 
 14 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 A NEW'E BALADE MADE BY NICHOLAS BaLTHORP WHICH 
 SUFFERED IN CaLYS THE XV DAIE OF MARCHE M.D.L. 
 
 When raging death with extreme paine 
 Most cruellj' assaultes my herte, 
 And when my fleshe, although in vaine. 
 Doth feare the feUnge of that smarte ; 
 For when the swerde wil stop mi brethe, 
 Then am I at the poynt of death. 
 
 I call to minde the goodnes greate 
 
 The father promised to us al, 
 
 Howe that his sonne for us should sweat 
 
 Water and bloud, and drinke the gal, 
 
 And should lose the life he hathe 
 
 To pacilie his father's wrathe. 
 
 And how we shuld by his sonnes death 
 Knowe the father's mind and wil, 
 And to preserve us stil in faith 
 His commaundementes to fulfil ; 
 So that, before where we were slaine, 
 By his bloud we might live againe. 
 
 And where in thousand yeres ther were. 
 Before the comming of this childe, 
 Mani a man that came farre
 
 OLD BALLADS. 15 
 
 For lacke of knowledge was begild ; 
 As Pliaraoe's people, whiche did rebel 
 Againste Moses, deserving liel. 
 
 But when the child had shed his bloud, 
 
 He made us free wher we were bande ; 
 
 He after was to us so good 
 
 To put us in the promised lande, 
 
 And brought us from the lake so depe, 
 
 Wher he him selfe of us take kepe. 
 
 Then saide I streight unto my fleshe, 
 The vile carkas, why doest thou fret 
 That of this earthe art made so neslie, 
 And naught thou art but wormes meat ? 
 In the have I no delyght, 
 For al is vexed in sprite. 
 
 Thou haste me caused to ofFende 
 
 In folowing muche thi fleshely wil ; 
 
 But, God willing, now I shal amend. 
 
 In token where of I do the kil, 
 
 Because thou woldest not have him forgeve 
 
 Thi shameful fauts while thou might live. 
 
 Thou didest thi selfe so muche esteme 
 Thou madest thi spirite the to obeye ; 
 But thi rewarde is, as I deme, 
 Streight from the spirit now to decaie ; 
 And from the world thou shalt now turne. 
 And be a subjecte to the worme.
 
 16 OT.D BALLADS. 
 
 As for my spirite, I trust, heshal 
 Amonge the auncient fathers slepe, 
 Readie when the Lord doth eal 
 His heavenlie deitie for to kepe: 
 This is the chiefe grounde of my faithe. 
 And ther upon I take my death. 
 
 What availeth anie princely power, 
 
 Yf God agreeth not them tyl ? 
 
 For if the Lorde doth apointe the houre, 
 
 Thei can not worke against his wii ; 
 
 So that for me he doth prevente, 
 
 For to agre I do consente. 
 
 Beare record now, ye Christian al, 
 That seethe the ende of this mi life. 
 For helpe to none of you I cal, 
 But unto God for mercie rife ; 
 But this to you I calle and crye, 
 Witnes a christian do I die. 
 
 Forgeve me ai in this worlde wide, 
 And praie for me whiles I do live : 
 For do [no] mans sake tarieth the tide, 
 Therfore I do you al forgeve. 
 In the Lordes handes I do commend 
 My spirite, and here I make an ende. 
 
 Finis. Qd. Nicholas Balthorpe. 
 
 Imprinted at londoii in Foster lane by Jhon Waley.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 17 
 
 EPITAPH UPON EDWARD VI. 
 
 The following anonymous and undated production on the death 
 of Edward VI. was not printed until after the marriage of Philip 
 and Mary, in the second year of the reign of the latter, as the 
 king and queen are expressly prayed for in a sort of postscript. 
 Queen Mary only is mentioned in the body of the epitaph, and we 
 may probably infer that it was written soon after the burial of the 
 subject of it at Westminster, on the 10th of August, 1553. The 
 author, whoever he might be, very carefully avoids the topic 
 of religion, and adverts to the personal and chivalrous accomplish- 
 ments of the king, as well as to his known partiality for Greenwich, 
 where he died. 
 
 AN EPITAPH UPON THE DEATH OF KYNG EDWARD. 
 
 Adewe pleasure. 
 
 Gone is our treasure, 
 Morning may be our mirth ; 
 
 For Edward our king. 
 
 That rose did spring, 
 Is vaded and lyeth in earth. 
 
 Therfore morne we may 
 
 Both night and day, 
 And in hart we may be full sad : 
 
 Sense Brute came in, 
 
 Or at any time sence. 
 The like treasure we never had. 
 
 But Death witli his darte 
 Hath pearced the harte 
 Of that Prince most excellent. c
 
 18 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 The child new borne 
 Maj"^ lament and raorne, 
 And for the death of him repent. 
 
 Gone is our joy, 
 
 Our sport and our play ; 
 Our comfort is turned to care : 
 
 To Englandes great cost 
 
 This Jewell we have lost, 
 That with all Christendom might compare. 
 
 Of so noble birth, 
 
 The godliest in earth, 
 Our true king and eyre by right ; 
 
 Edward by name, 
 
 Borne of queene Jane, 
 And son to king Henry the eighth. 
 
 At the age of sixteene yeres, 
 
 As by Chronicles apperes. 
 In the seventh yere of his raigne, 
 
 God toke him away, 
 
 Our comfort and joy. 
 To Englands great dolour and payne. 
 
 In his tender age 
 
 So grave and so sage. 
 So well learned and wittie ; 
 
 And now that sweete flower 
 
 Hath builded his bower 
 In the earth, the more is the pitie.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 19 
 
 The whose losse and lacke 
 
 Is to England a wracke, 
 All faythfull hartes may morne, 
 
 To see that svvete childe. 
 
 So meeke and so milde, 
 So soone subdued by wormes. 
 
 Out of Grenewiche he is gone, 
 
 And lieth under a stone, 
 That loveth both house and parke. 
 
 Thou shalt see him no more, 
 
 That set by thee such store, 
 For death hath pearced his harte. 
 
 Gone is our king 
 
 That could run at the ringe, 
 And ofttimes ride on Blackheath. 
 
 Ye noble men of chevalry, 
 
 And ye men of artilerie, 
 May all lament his death. 
 
 That swete childe is deade, 
 
 And lapped in leade, 
 And in Westminster lyeth full colde : 
 
 All hartes may rewe. 
 
 That ever they him knew, 
 Or that swete childe did beholde. 
 
 Farewell, Diamonde deare, 
 Farewell, Christall cleare, 
 Farewell, the flower of chevalry 1 
 
 c 2
 
 20 OLD BALLADS, 
 
 The Lorde hath taken him, 
 And for his peoples sinne, 
 A just plage for our iniquitie. 
 
 But now, ye noble peeres, 
 
 Marke well your yeares, 
 For you do not know your day ; 
 
 And this you may be bolde, 
 
 Both yonge and olde, 
 Ye shall die and hence away. 
 
 And for our royall kinge, 
 
 The noblest livinge, 
 No longer with us may tarie ; 
 
 But his soule we do coramende 
 
 Unto the Lordes hande, 
 Who preserve our noble Queue Mary. 
 
 Longe with us to endure, 
 
 With mirth and pleasure, 
 To rule her realme aright. 
 
 And her enemies to withstande 
 
 By sea and by lande : 
 Lord preserve her both daye and nighte. 
 
 God save the Kinge and the Queene. 
 
 Imprinted at London in Holburne nere the Condite at the 
 signe of the Sarsins head by John Charlewood and John Tysdale.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 21 
 
 THE SERVING-MAN HUSBAND. 
 
 This " new merry ballad" has no date; but though it bears the 
 name of Waley, or Walley, as the printer of it, it seems to have 
 been licensed originally to him and the widow Toy, (Dibdin's 
 Typ. Ant. iii. p. 577,) about the first year of the reign of Elizabeth. 
 Dr. Dibdin gives the entry thus : — " A mayde that wolde mary 
 with a servynge man. Whan raging love," as if " whan raging 
 love" were the first words of it, whereas, that was either a separate 
 production, or the tune to which the ballad was sung. Thomas 
 Emley is not known as the writer of anything but the subsequent 
 ballad, and it is now for the first time re-printed, from a broadside. 
 In Ritson's "Ancient Songs," (ii. 7, edit. 1829) is a song, called 
 " The Praise of Serving-men ; " and at p. 145 of the same volume 
 is, " The Famous Flower of Serving-men ;" but the first is more 
 ancient, and the second more modern than the following. 
 
 A NEW MERY BALAD OF A MAID THAT WOLD MARY 
 WYTII A SERVYNG MAN. 
 
 NowE prudentlie to ponder proverbes of olde. 
 How that seldome or when commeth ihe better, 
 Wyth divers other tales as I have herd tolde. 
 That the nigher the bone, the flesh is much sweter ; 
 Thus a lover of late sente rae his letter ; 
 Therfore let al my friendes saye what they can, 
 I wyl have to my husbande a serving man. 
 
 The sight of serving men doth my herte good 
 When I them beholde, and wot ye well why?
 
 22 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Bicause they be lustie and ful of yonge bloude, 
 Stronge and nymble, and very quicke of eye, 
 Clene, brave in apparel, and made properlye ; 
 Wherfore let father and mother saye what they can, 
 I wyl have to ray husband a serving man. 
 
 My father and mother geveth me exhortacion, 
 
 That if ever their good wylles I wyl have, , 
 
 To take a man of some good occupacion. 
 
 Or els some ryche farmoures sonne, substaunce to 
 
 save. 
 Thus upon me dayly they do crave, 
 But let them bothe saye Avhat they can, 
 I wyl have to my husbande a serving man. 
 
 Servinge men that be gentle and wyce, 
 
 Can lacke no service, nor livyng at all. 
 
 Though one of an hundred suche be geven to vyce, 
 
 Shuld the residue of them be hated all ? 
 
 No, by saint Marie ; come of it what shall. 
 
 And let my friendes do and say what they can, 
 
 I wyl have to my husbande a serving man. 
 
 Servyng men honeste are greatly commended 
 Of Lordes and Ladies, and of gentelmen fyne ; 
 Though loutes with serving men be offended, 
 Yet wyl not I from their company declyne, 
 For I trust and hope one of them to be myne ; 
 Let my friends do and saye what they can, 
 I wyl have to my husband a servyng man.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 23 
 
 Serving men evei' be jocunde and mery, 
 Whether they have litle or muche in their purse, 
 And of good companie they are never wearie, 
 And a woman they love as a childe dothe the nurse ; 
 One serving man I knovve <hat loveth me no worse ; 
 Wherfore let all my friendes saye what they can, 
 I vvyl have to my husbande a servinge man. 
 
 Serving men finelie can colly and kysse, 
 
 Serving men featlie can maidens imbrace, 
 
 Fewe suche serving men of their purpose can raysse, 
 
 Bicause of audacite, beautie or grace, 
 
 And in some of them all three taketh place ; 
 
 Wherfore let my friendes saye what they can, 
 
 1 wyl have the swete, loving, kynde serving man. 
 
 Oh Lorde, how the herte in my bealie doth hoppe, 
 When I here that serving men be come to towne ; 
 Streight some resortes to my mistres shoppe, 
 There merelie talking, by me sitting downe ; 
 Of lovers fame they maye well weare the crowne ; 
 Wherfore let all the worlde sale what they can, 
 I wyl have to my husband a servinge man. 
 
 What yonge men eyther in towne or citie 
 With them in daliaunce maie compare ? 
 In entertainement they be excellent wittie, 
 God geve them longe lyfe and well to fare ; 
 Thoughe my chaunce be to live in carpe and care, 
 As my friendes saye, yet if that I can, 
 I wyl have to my husband a serving man.
 
 24 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Shulde I marie with a boye, a loute, or a slyrame, 
 
 A dawcocke, an asse, a toyle or a jacke, 
 
 That wyll not let me go tricke nor trimme. 
 
 Nor yet he hym selfe, but lyke one in a sacke, [lacke ? 
 
 And that with al mirth and solace w-yl grudge and find 
 
 I wyll DO such dranes ; say my friendes what they can, 
 
 But I wyl marrie with the merie good serving man. 
 
 A man is manlie, and to a woman comfortable, 
 
 But a churle or a nygarde is to women greate wooe ; 
 
 A serving man, beinge grome or but page in the stable, 
 
 With meate to his maisters owne borde mays go, 
 
 When ten times his betters may not do so, 
 
 And manie times be thrieftie; to prove this I can, 
 
 Wherfore shuld I not marie with a serving man ? 
 
 Some men growe ryche, although they do spend. 
 And some men waxe pore, thoughe they do spare ; 
 Then why may not a serving man to riches assend. 
 As well in their myrthe as some with their care ? 
 The world now a daies goth round and square, 
 Wherfore I wyl do the best that I can, 
 To have to my husbande a servynge man. 
 
 My mistres liveth a merye lyfe 
 As most women doth for her degree, 
 Although a serving man hath her to wyfe. 
 And whie may not I do so as well as she ? 
 No men on earth do better please me ; 
 Ryche or unriche, saye all what you can, 
 I wyll have to my husbande a servynge man.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 25 
 
 And tyll that daye douteles be come and gone, 
 That I quickely be maried to my true love, 
 My fleshe wyll pine awaye even to the bone, 
 Bicause my herte from hym wyll not remove. 
 Fare vvell, swete serving men, by God above ; 
 And for my sake all you that tipple pot or canne, 
 Drynke freely to the merie good serving man. 
 
 Finis. Quod Thomas Emley. 
 
 Imprinted at London in foster lane, by Jbon Waley. 
 
 THE PANGS AND FITS OF LOVE. 
 
 Herbert (as quoted in Dibdin's Typ. Ant., in. 583) mentions 
 the license of a ballad to Richard Lant, under the title of " The 
 Pangs of Love," but until very recently it was not known to have 
 been published. It is precisely in the same measure, and with the 
 same burden, as a song in the interlude of " The Trial of Treasure," 
 (Hist, of Dramatic Poetry, and the Stage, ii. 331) which was 
 printed in 1567, while what follows came from the press of Lant 
 in 1559, eleven years later than any dated performance by him 
 yet discovered. The initials, W. E., at the end, are doubtless 
 those of the celebrated William Elderton ; and making allowances 
 for misprints and clerical errors, (such as Priamus for Piramus, in 
 the fifth stanza, &c.) it is a very favourable specimen of his skill 
 as a poet. 
 
 THE PANGES OF LOVE AND LOVERS FITTES. 
 
 Was not good kyng Salamon 
 Ravished in sondry vvyse. 
 With every iivelie Paragon 
 That glistered before his eyes ?
 
 26 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 If this be true, as trewe it was, 
 
 Lad)' I lady ! 
 Why should not I serve you, alas, 
 
 My deare lady? 
 
 When Paris was enamoured 
 With Helena, dame bewties peare. 
 Whom Venus first him promised 
 To ventor on, and not to feare. 
 What sturdy stormes endured he 
 
 Lady ! lady ! 
 To winne her love, or it would be, 
 
 My deare ladye. 
 
 Knowe ye not, how Troylus 
 Lanquished and lost his joye. 
 With fittes and fevers mervailous 
 For Cresseda that dwelt in Troye ; 
 Tyll pytie planted in her brest, 
 
 Ladie ! ladie ! 
 To slepe with him, and graunt him rest, 
 
 My deare ladie. 
 
 I read sometime howe venterous 
 Leander was his love to please, 
 Who swomme the waters perillous 
 Of Abidon, those surginge sease, 
 To come to her where as she lay, 
 
 Ladie ! ladie ! 
 Tyll he was drowned by the waye, 
 
 My deare ladie.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 27 
 
 What say you then to Priaraus, 
 That promised his love to mete, 
 And founde by fortune merveilous 
 A bloudie clothe before his feete ? 
 For Tysbies sake hym selfe he slewe, 
 
 Ladie ! ladie ! 
 To prove that he was a lover trewe, 
 
 My deare ladie. 
 
 When Hercules for Eronie 
 Murdered a monster fell, 
 He put him selfe in jeoperdie 
 Perillous, as the stories tell, 
 Reskewinge her upon the shore, 
 
 Ladie 1 ladie ! 
 Which els by lot had died therfore. 
 
 My deare ladie. 
 
 Anaxeretes bewtifull, 
 When Iphis did beholde and see, 
 With sighes and sobbinges pitifull. 
 That Paragon longe wooed he ; 
 And when he could not wynne her so, 
 
 Ladye ! ladye ! 
 He went and honge him selfe for woe. 
 
 My deare ladye. 
 
 Besides these matters merveilous, 
 Good lady, yet I can lell the more; 
 The Gods have ben full amorous, 
 As Jupiter by learned lore,
 
 28 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Who changed his shape, as fame hath spred. 
 
 Lady ! ladye ! 
 To come to Alcumenaes bed, 
 
 My deare ladye. 
 
 And if bewtie bred such blisfulnesse. 
 Enamouring both God and man, 
 Good lady, let no wilfulnesse, 
 Exuperate your bewtie, then. 
 To slaye the hertes, that yeld and crave, 
 
 Ladye I ladye ! 
 The graunt of your good wil to have, 
 
 My deare ladye. 
 
 Finis. Qd. W. E. 
 
 Imprinted at London in Smithfeld in the Parish of Saynt 
 Bartholomewes Hospital! by 
 
 Richard Lant. 
 All. Dni. M.D. lix. xxij. Mar. 
 
 THE ASSAULT OF GOD'S FORT. 
 
 This highly interesting ballad, which celebrates, under the form 
 of an allegory, many of the early Reformers and their enemies, 
 was no doubt written by John Awdeley, the printer, and his ini- 
 tials are at the end of it. He was the writer and printer of "an 
 Epitaph upon Mayster John Viron, Preacher,'' which was licensed 
 to him in 1562, as well as of a poem dated 30th April 1569, 
 beginning, " Remember death, and thou shalt never sinne,'' sub-
 
 OLD BALLADS. 29 
 
 scribed, John Awd. The subject and treatment of what follows 
 fixes its date quite early in the reign of Elizabeth, perhaps in 1559 
 or 1560. Among other persons mentioned in it is John Avale, 
 perhaps related to Lemeke Avale who in 15C9 wrote and published 
 " A Commemoration or Dirige of Bastarde Edmonde Boner, 
 alias Savage, usurped Bishoppe of London," of which an account 
 is given in the Bridgewater Catalogue, p. 14. John Avale, or 
 Avails, is introduced into it in company with Miles Huggarde. 
 
 THE CRUEL ASSAULT OF GODS FORT. 
 
 By Edward the sixt, of England kyng, 
 A fort was made gods truth to shield ; 
 
 In whose lyfe time, by good rulyng, 
 Both friend and foe to it dyd yelde. 
 
 But when, for syrine of his owne flocke, 
 The Lord in wrath tooke him away, 
 
 Leaving the fort to his next stocke. 
 
 The enmies then sought out theyr pray. 
 
 Then blew up trumpets of Papists sounde 
 Souldiers to call, and wages gave : 
 
 Come who so would was armed rounde ; 
 None they refusde, but drest them brave. 
 
 The field was pitcht of Papists part, 
 With corned caps, tippets and gownes : 
 
 Theyr ordnaunce lay redy in cart 
 
 To beat the fort of Gods truth downe.
 
 30 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 The generall Gardner, brave and stout, 
 And captain Boner marcht foorth amain ; 
 
 Bourne with standard cryed out 
 
 Al arrae, al arme ! our shavlinges traine. 
 
 The auneient which that Bourne bare 
 
 Were fierce wolves teeth with blood besprent ; 
 
 Fire and fagot, whych did declare 
 
 Their ravenous hartes to Christians ment. 
 
 Then doctour Martin, as clarke of arrays. 
 With doctour Story, the master gonner, 
 
 These two in office were as trusty 
 
 As Gardner, Bourne, or byshop Bonner. 
 
 A cry was made throughout the host. 
 With fire and hempe all to destroy. 
 
 Where ever they were in al the cost, 
 That dyd the Popes power sake to noye. 
 
 The fort thus sieged on every syde 
 With cry so fierce to kyll them all : 
 
 A sorte for feare durst not abide, 
 But from Gods fort to them dyd fall. 
 
 Then might ye heare the canons rore. 
 Which Bourne and Watson falsely shot : 
 
 Yelde I yeld I these cryde, from hereticks lore, 
 Or batter we shal both wall and fort.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 31 
 
 No, no ! (quoth they within the fort) 
 We yelde us not Gods truth to stayne : 
 
 Though you destroy us in this sort, 
 
 God shal our fort wyth force maintayne. 
 
 Wyth that they all the fort wythin 
 
 Wyth sighes and sobs to God out cryde, 
 
 Thou Lord of hostes, way not our synne, 
 But ayde thy flocke so wo betyde. 
 
 For though with sinne we causde this day 
 That our good king thou shouldst thus take. 
 
 Yet, liord, with bitterness of soule we pray, 
 Strength us against this firye lake. 
 
 This done, they blowde a cheerful blast 
 
 Unto the souldiers in the fort. 
 Arme ye ! anne ye ! in all the hast, 
 
 Our enmies now to fort resort. 
 
 The auncient which was spred on wall. 
 Had a white lambe with red spots thicke. 
 
 And in gold letters were these wordes all, 
 Why do ye, Sauls, against me kicks ? 
 
 Forth came Rogers, Hooper and Sanders 
 Upon the walles the forte to fende ; 
 
 We yelde not (said they) to such destroyers, 
 But fight we will unto the ende.
 
 82 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 To these Steven Gardner gave onset, 
 And layde on lode as wolfe on pray : 
 
 He tooke them prisoners with his false net, 
 And sent them to the fire straightway. 
 
 Then Story, the maister of the shot, 
 On Papists rampire brave and proude, 
 
 For spilling bloud he cared not, 
 Assault ! assault ! he cryde aloude. 
 
 These were no sooner of the wall. 
 But up lept Rydley and Latymer, 
 
 To rescue God's fort so nere to fall, 
 And ded with force the foes encounter. 
 
 And bishop Cranmer, though with gyle 
 The enmies stole him from the fort, 
 
 Yet boldly fought with them a whyle. 
 And folowed his mates in lyke sort. 
 
 Then doctour Weston at these out shot 
 
 The pellets of Rome, and them did mayme, 
 
 So that away they passed not, 
 
 But were destroyed with fire and flame. 
 
 But Bradford then on the wall up lept. 
 And Philpot eke by him did stand ; 
 
 Cardmaker and Taylour also up crept. 
 And these by truth dyd noy theyrband
 
 OLD BALLADS. 83 
 
 Bishop Boner on these laide hand, 
 And to Smithfield sent them in hast ; 
 
 But to the death these did withstand. 
 And would not yeld to enmies blast. 
 
 Then blewe the Papists to assault, 
 
 And set a watch about the fort, 
 Of knights and yeraen to finde some fault 
 
 To make them yelde after this sort. 
 
 And sworen men in every cost 
 
 They did corapell to watch and spye ; 
 
 If any did resist their host, 
 
 They must present them for to dye. 
 
 The fort with enmies laid round about, 
 And al the captaines so cruelly slaine, 
 
 The soldiours therof with courage stout 
 Kept yet the walles with might and maine. 
 
 Now scale the walles, (quoth Boner then) 
 Behold, the captaines we have slaine : 
 
 Ransack the fort, destroy all men, 
 
 Both wemen and children, let none remaine. 
 
 Then scaling lathers were up rearde. 
 And John Avales on them with targe ; 
 
 His knees had crosses, because he fearde 
 The steps wold breake and hang him large. 
 
 D
 
 34 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Up came Beard, by Vales his man, 
 Armed al round as dronkardes use; 
 
 His head was closde with good ale can, 
 And in his hand a taverners cruse. 
 
 But they in fort did with them play. 
 
 And cast them bribes which made them yelde 
 
 They, striving who should have the pray, 
 Fought one with other in their owne fielde. 
 
 Yet battred was this fort full sore 
 With vehement shot on Papists part : 
 
 The walles they bet styl more and more. 
 But yet the fortmen would not start. 
 
 Then pushed the Papists with their pikes. 
 The hargabusses shot out amayne. 
 
 And dyms the ayre, and many strikes 
 Of them that did the fort sustayne. 
 
 The holberts and the bowmen eke, 
 
 Came preasing toward the fort with spede : 
 
 These were the rakehels that did seke 
 To have mens goodes playde Cains dede. 
 
 There might you see the fort about 
 
 Great streames of bloode and bodies slayne ; 
 
 The handes of al the host throughout 
 
 With blood of Saints they did them staine.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 35 
 
 In this assault the infants out cryde, 
 And eke their mothers as wydowes left, 
 
 To see theyr friendes before them dyde. 
 And al their goodes from them bereft. 
 
 Though thus the fort was almost gone 
 
 By cruel assault of enmies bolde, 
 Yet some within the fort alone 
 
 To God did crye, Lord keepe thy holde ! 
 
 Then God did send his slave Death down 
 
 Into the Papists host among. 
 Which slew the chiefest in all the towne, 
 
 And greatest captaines in the throng. 
 
 By thys great stroke of mightie Jove 
 
 The vehement force of Papists fell, 
 And sent this fort (which is hys love) 
 
 A godly captaine to keepe it well. 
 
 Which when in fort she did appere, 
 
 A flag of truce spred in her hand. 
 Aloud she cried, Cease now your yre, 
 
 And yelde to me, right heyre of England. 
 
 Then scattred were the Papists host. 
 Their flags of fire to ground did fall, 
 
 Their flaming brandes, which oft they tost. 
 Were clene out quentch at our Quenes call. 
 
 D 2
 
 86 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Crye then was made to God on hye 
 Of al the souldiours in the fort ; 
 
 Oh praise the Lorde for victorye, 
 In helping us after this sort ! 
 
 Now yelde (they cried) our brethren dere, 
 Which have against Gods truth so stoode ; 
 
 Beholde our Quene doth profer here 
 
 To graunt ye peace to chaunge your moode. 
 
 Which, if her clemencie you refuse, 
 And pleade not for your lives graunt, 
 
 "^he law of armes she must nedes use 
 On such as are to her repugnaunt. 
 
 Yelde, yelde, therefore : ye chiefe captaines, 
 
 Example geve to al your host, 
 Or els wyll God revenge with paines 
 
 The bloud of those whom ye have rost. 
 
 And all ye Christians of this England, 
 Your trumpets sound to Gods hie praise : 
 
 On Gods head set a bay garland, 
 
 For your triumphe of all these fraies. 
 
 Yeld now your lives after such sort 
 As God may not this fort so plage ; 
 
 Strength now your selves in this Gods fort, 
 That ye yelde no more to enmies rage.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 37 
 
 So God will spare us our Quene long, 
 So God will make our land encrease ; 
 
 So God wj^l builde our fort so strong, 
 That no enmies dare to it prease. 
 
 To this say al right Christen men, 
 God save our Quene ! Amen. Amen. 
 
 TeXwc. Qd. J. A. 
 
 Imprinted at Loudon by lohii Awdeley, dwelling by great 
 S. Bartehnewes beyonde Aldersgate. 
 
 HOW TO WIVE WELL. 
 
 The existence of this baJlad has been long known, as it is men- 
 tioned by Herbert, Ritson, Sec. ; but it has never been re- 
 printed, no authority mentioning where it was to be found. It is 
 preserved in the library of the Antiquarian Society, as well 
 as "the Second Poesye of Horace," by the same author, who also 
 translated the first Satire of Horace. Owen Rogers had a license 
 to print "A new yeres gyfte made by Lewes Evans," in 1561, 
 and to about that date may be assigned the following humorous 
 and satirical production. Lewis Evans calls himself " school- 
 master," but we are without any other particulars regarding him. 
 
 A NEW BALET ENTITULED HOWE TO WYVE WELL. 
 
 Wher wyving some raislike, 
 
 And women muche dysplease, 
 The women frowarde be. 
 
 And fewe men cane them please. 
 
 <! V- '-N ;% -s
 
 38 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 And thoughe the maried life 
 
 The wyse muste nedes comende, 
 
 Yet chifeste carke and care 
 Doth therin full depende. 
 
 For though thye lusting eyes 
 
 Thou fedeste with plaesant sighte, 
 
 And from thy hart do nothing kepe 
 Whiche maye gyve it delyght ; 
 
 And thoughe thou treasure have, 
 
 Reputed with the beste, 
 Yet yf thou have a frowarde wyf, 
 
 Then what prevaelith the reste ? 
 
 And syth unto a shrowe 
 
 None yll comparde maye be, 
 
 Then make no hast, lest after wast, 
 But faythfull loke she bee. 
 
 One Erupis philosopher 
 Doth tell us dangers sore, 
 
 Which be in seas, and eke one earth, 
 But none then women more : 
 
 For yf she frowarde be, 
 
 As moste doe growe from kynde, 
 That thee delights shall her displease, 
 
 Such is her frowarde mynde.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 39 
 
 Thy woes dothe her rejoes, 
 
 Thy sorwes joeth her harte : 
 When fortune frowne, that then will cause 
 
 Her from thee to departe. 
 
 In thee delitghts she not, 
 
 Thy presence maketh her lowere ; 
 When thou gevest her thy homcom kis, 
 
 Her countenance then is sowre. 
 
 That whiche doth thee myslyke 
 
 To her it doeth contente ; 
 And things to go agenste thy will 
 
 Full frowarde is she bente. 
 
 The frutefulnes of her 
 
 Is scowlding daye and nyghte, 
 And when thou angerste her, 
 
 Then with thy bratts she fights. 
 
 Yf sickenes, sores, or paynes 
 
 Doe happe thee to oppresse. 
 She coursing spend the tedyous nyght, 
 
 Prayng deth it to redresse. 
 
 Then wyll she send thy slave 
 
 To helpe to holde thy hedde, 
 When that full carles she 
 
 Will (after meate) to bedde.
 
 40 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 But when she heres thee deade, 
 She shifteth thee to grave ; 
 
 Thee bringes one byre to chiirche 
 Thy silye symple slave. 
 
 And for she cane not weepe, 
 With clothe she hydes her face, 
 
 And shakes her head as thoughe 
 She weepte forsuthe a pace. 
 
 The wanting of due tears, 
 That ought her eyes fall fro, 
 
 And fained wringing of her hands 
 Shewe furth no inwarde wo. 
 
 No joye cane her but gladde, 
 All myrth she dothe pretende, 
 
 And wisheth straight that in thi stede 
 God wokle anothere sende. 
 
 Wher is ther suche a foe 
 
 In other kynde of lyf ? 
 No foe raai doutelesse be coraparde 
 
 Unto the wicked wyf. 
 
 And though somes hape have bin 
 Full faythfuU wyves to finde, 
 
 Yet let the bade styll bere the blame, 
 That so growe out of kynd.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 41 
 
 At this good wyves have no disden, 
 
 For them it doth coinende ; 
 The worsere sort must be content, 
 
 [Tjherl'ore, you shrovvsse, amende. 
 
 You maydens al, that wives do mind 
 
 In lime to come to be, 
 Endever your selfe that eche of you 
 
 A faythfull wyfe maye be. 
 
 Finis. Quod Levvys Evans. 
 
 Imprinted at London by Owen Rogers at che spread Egle 
 betwyxte botli the Saynct Bartholomews. 
 
 SERVICES AND DEATH OF STRANGWIGE. 
 
 William Birch, the author of the subsequent ballad, on the life, 
 services, and death of Strangwige, also wrote " A Song betwene 
 theQuenes Majestic and England,'' ])rinted by William Pickering, 
 without date. Ritson only introduces Birch when speaking of 
 the productions of Elderton, upon one of which he composed a 
 puritanical parody. (Bibl. Poet. 196.) It appears that the hero 
 of what follows, after having led a most irregular and ungoverned 
 life, turned pirate, and being condemned and pardoned, vowed 
 afterwards to spend his life in the Queen's service ; and putting to 
 sea, attacked a French port, where he received his death-wound. He 
 seems to have been of " mean estate" and of " base birth," though 
 of " worshipful kin." Alexander Lacy, from whose press what 
 follows came, was a printer in the beginning of the reign of 
 Elizabeth, and had a license to publish Birch's puritanical parody 
 above-mentioned, in L562. The date of what follows was pro- 
 bably somewhat later, as Strangwige seems to have been engaged 
 in the hostilities against France which were carried on through 
 the summer of L563.
 
 42 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 A NEW BALADE OF THE WORTHY SERVICE OF LATE 
 
 DOEN BY MAISTER STRANGWIGE IN FRAUNCE, 
 
 AND OF HIS DEATH. 
 
 England hath lost a soldiour of late, 
 Who Strangwige was to name: 
 
 Although he was of nieaiie estate, 
 His deedes deserved fame. 
 
 For as the plowman plowes the ground, 
 And toj'leth to til for come, 
 
 So Strangwige sought a deadly wound 
 For Brittaine, where he was borne. 
 
 In deede of birth he was borne bace, 
 Although of worshipful kyn : 
 
 In youth he sought to runne the race 
 Where he might prowes wyn. 
 
 In his yong yeares he walked wyde, 
 
 And wandred oft a stray : 
 For why blynd Cupid did him guyde. 
 
 To walke that wyldsome way. 
 
 Thus here and there, I wot not where. 
 
 He sounded where to ryde. 
 But happy haven he found no where, 
 
 Nor harbour for to abyde.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 43 
 
 But when he had the course out run 
 
 Where pyrates prict the carde, 
 Tvvyse at the least he thought undone, 
 
 And looked for his revvarde. 
 
 For by legall lawes he was condemd, 
 
 Yet mercy bare the mace, 
 And in respect he wold amend. 
 
 He found a princes grace. 
 
 And in that state he vowed to God, 
 
 And to his righteous queene, 
 He wold nomore deserve such rod, 
 
 Nor at justice barre be scene. 
 
 He thus contented for a whyle, 
 
 And laughed fortune to scorne, 
 Tyl weeds did worke by subtil guyle 
 
 To overgrow the corne. 
 
 And then occabion served just 
 
 That martiall men must trudge : 
 He vaunced himselfe witli valiaunt lust ; 
 
 To go he did not grudge. 
 
 And to the sea he sought a charge 
 
 Where he might take his chaunce, 
 And therewith spred his sayles at large 
 
 To seke a porte in Fraunce. 
 
 f ■•>
 
 44 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 And passed by a warlyke towne 
 Where municion lay a land : 
 
 He spoyld and cut their chaynes a down, 
 And passed by strong hand. 
 
 Where as he caught a deadly wound, 
 Yet his courage never quayled, 
 
 But as he had ben safe and sound, 
 On his way forth he sayled. 
 
 And passed through even to that porte 
 
 Where he vowed to aryve ; 
 And still he did his men coumfort, 
 
 And courage did them geve. 
 
 Tlien Atropos did him assayle, 
 That al Adams kynd doth call ; 
 
 Against whose force may none prevayle, 
 But subject to him all. 
 
 This life (qd. he) which was me lent 
 From judgment seat, in perrill 
 
 I came with heart to that entent 
 To spende in my queenes quarell. 
 
 Therfore this debt here wil I pay, 
 
 This life which is not mine. 
 O Lord, receyve my spirit to joy, 
 
 That by Christes death is thine.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 45 
 
 All subjects now loke and foresee, 
 
 That to trade the vvarres pretend : 
 OfFendours eke (if any there bee) 
 
 Make ye no worse an end. 
 
 Finis. W. Birch. 
 
 Imprinted at London by Alexander Lacy for William Owen and 
 are to be sold at the little shop at the north dore of Poules. 
 
 THE LAMENTATION OF FOLLY. 
 
 There is nothing about the ensuing production to enable us to 
 fix its date with any accuracy. It is of a serious and religious 
 cast, written when the author, William EJderton, (whose initials 
 are at the end) was in a graver mood than at the time he pro- 
 duced his " jestes and mery toyes," which were licensed to Hugh 
 Singleton in 1561. We have therefore placed it later in the pre- 
 sent series of ballads, and John Allde, the printer of it, has no 
 dated work earlier than 1561. " The Lamentation of Folly" is 
 no where mentioned, and only a single copy has yet been dis- 
 covered. Elderton was dead when Tlio. Nash wrote his " Strange 
 Newes," which bears the date of 1592. Vide Sign. D 4. Several 
 of the rarest of Elderton's pieces are printed in the last volume 
 of the Harleian Miscellany, Edit. Park. 
 
 THE LAMENTATION OF FOLLIE : 
 
 TO THE TUNE OF NEW ROGERO. 
 
 Alas, what meaneth man 
 With care and greedy paine 
 
 To wrest to win a worldly fame 
 Wliich is but vile and vaine?
 
 46 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 As though he had no cause to doubt 
 
 The drift of his desire, 
 Not pleased though he rule the route, 
 
 But still to covet higher 
 
 And wander after will, 
 
 Farre passing his degree, 
 Not so contented still. 
 
 But a king himselfe to be. 
 Subverting law and right. 
 
 Detecting triall true, 
 Vv'ringing every wight. 
 
 That all the realme dooth rue. 
 
 Whose deed and ill desart, 
 
 Compact and false consent, 
 I thinke no Christen heart 
 
 Can choose but needs lament. 
 Alas, it seemed strange 
 
 Such thraldome in a realme 
 Which wealthie was to wast away 
 
 By will that was extreame. 
 
 Such vertue was profest. 
 
 Most famous frank and free, 
 Yet men transposed cleane, 
 
 More vile and worse to be. 
 And such as did pretend 
 
 To shew themselfe most holie. 
 Have svvarved in the end, 
 
 And fawned after follie.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 47 
 
 Whose wordes so disagree. 
 
 As waters come and go : 
 Their livings be contrary, 
 
 That should examples showe ; 
 And fawning after fame 
 
 Pursue their owne decay, 
 As though there were no God 
 
 To call their life away. 
 
 What surety is in man, 
 
 What truth or trust at all. 
 Which frameth what he can 
 
 To worke unworthy thrall ? 
 Oppression hath beene free, 
 
 The poore alas be spoyled, 
 Maides and wives be ravished, 
 
 The simple are beguiled. 
 
 Lawe is made a libertie, 
 
 And right is overthrowne ; 
 Faith is but a foolish thing, 
 
 Falsehood is alone. 
 Pride is counted clenlinesse, 
 
 And theft is but a slight, 
 Whoredome is but wantonnesse, 
 
 And waste is but delight. 
 
 Spoiling is but pleasure, 
 
 Riot is but youth, 
 Slaunder is a laughing game, 
 
 And lying eounted trueth.
 
 48 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Mariage is but mockage, 
 The children counted base : 
 
 Thus right is wronged everj' way 
 In our accursed case. 
 
 Flatterie is the forte of fame, 
 
 And trueth is troden downe ; 
 The innocent do beare the blame. 
 
 The wicked winne renowne. 
 Thus Sathan hath prevailed long, 
 
 And we for want of grace 
 Have troden vertue under foote, 
 
 And vice hath taken place. 
 
 But God that is most righteous 
 
 Hath scene our fatall fall, 
 And spred his raercie over us 
 
 To shield us from the thrall : 
 Whose mercy is so infinite 
 
 To such as were oppressed, 
 He hath restored them to right, 
 
 And hath their cai'e redressed. 
 
 And though that our unworthinesse 
 
 Hath not deserved so ; 
 Now let us cease our wickednesse, 
 
 And graft where grace may grow. 
 And let us pray for our defence, 
 
 Our worthy queene elect, 
 That God may works his will in her 
 
 Our thraldome to correct.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 49 
 
 That God be chiefely served so, 
 
 As dooth to him belong ; 
 That right may have his course againe, 
 
 And vanquish wicked wrong ; 
 That we may live in feare and awe. 
 
 And truly so intend, 
 And have the justice of the lawe 
 
 Our causes to defend. 
 
 That truth may take his wonted place, 
 
 And faith be fast againe, 
 And then repent and call for grace 
 
 That wrought our care and paine ; 
 That God send us a short redresse 
 
 With wealth and great increase, 
 And to our Queene to reigne and rule 
 
 In honour, health and peace. 
 
 Finis. W. E. 
 
 Imprinted at London by Edward Allde. 
 
 AGAINST FILTHY WRITING. 
 
 Thomas Brice, the author of the following invective, was a 
 preacher, who died before 1570, in which year John Allde had a 
 license to print an epitaph upon him. Three years earlier, H. 
 Bynneman had a license to print " Songes and Sonnettes by Thos. 
 Bryce," (Ritson, Bibl. Poet. 144) but they were probably not like 
 the " Songs and Sonnets" of the Earl of Surrey, &c., but pious 
 poems, and in 1567 Hugh Singleton was authorized to publish
 
 50 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 " The Court of Venus moralized by Thos. Bryce." One work by 
 him has survived, viz. " A Register in meter, containing the 
 names and patient sufferings" of the martyrs in the time of Queen 
 Mary, which was twice printed,— in 1559, by John Kingston, and 
 again by the same printer without date. The subsequent effusion 
 should seem to have been part of a literary contest, for the author 
 refers to what he had formerly written against some unnamed 
 antagonists, and in the last line notices the challenges which he had 
 received. It is no where enumerated among the productions of 
 the press of John Allde, and appears to have been unknown to all 
 our literary antiquaries. 
 
 AGAINST FILTHY WRITING, AND SUCH LIKE 
 DELIGHTING. 
 
 What meane the rimes that run thus large in every 
 
 shop to sell, 
 With wanton sound and filthie sense? me thinke it 
 
 grees not well. 
 We are not Ethnickes, we forsoth, at least professe 
 
 not so ; 
 Why range we then to Ethnickes trade ? come back, 
 
 where wil ye go? 
 
 Tel me, is Christ or Cupide Lord ? doth God or Venus 
 
 reigne ? 
 And whose are wee? whom ought wee serve ? I aske 
 
 it; answere plaine : 
 If wanton Venus, then go forth ; if Cupide, keep your 
 
 trade ; 
 If God or Christ, come bak the best, or sure you will 
 
 be made.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 51 
 
 Doth God, is he the Lord in deed; and should we 
 
 him obey? 
 Then his commaundement ousjht to guide all that we 
 
 doo or saj'. 
 But shew me his commaundement, then, thou filthy 
 
 writer thou ; 
 Let seet, I cease ; if not, geve place, or shamles shew 
 
 thee now. 
 
 We are no foes to musicke wee, a mis your man doth 
 
 take us, 
 So frendes to thinges corrupt and vile you all shall 
 
 never make us. 
 If you denie them such to bee, I stand to prove it I ; 
 If you confesse, (defend them not) why then do you 
 
 reply ? 
 
 But such they bee, I will mainteine, which yet you 
 
 bothe defend. 
 And judge them fooles that them mislike ; would God 
 
 you might amend I 
 But substance onely I regarde, let accidencis go : 
 Both you and wee, bee that wee bee, I therfore leave 
 
 it so. 
 
 And yet I wishe your tearmes in deed upon some 
 
 reason stayd ; 
 If mine be not, reprove them right, He blot that I have 
 
 sayd, 
 
 e2
 
 52 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 And that I wrote, or now doo wrighte, against you as 
 
 may seeme, 
 What cause I had, and have, I yelde to modest men to 
 
 deeme. 
 
 I wishe you well, I doo protest, (as God will, I will so) 
 I cannot helpe as frend ye wot, nor will not hurt as fo ; 
 But for the vile corrupting rimes which you confesse 
 
 to wrighte. 
 My soule and hart abhorres their sence, as far from my 
 
 delight. 
 
 And those that use them for their glee, as you doo 
 
 vaunte ye will, 
 I tell you plainly what I think ; I judge them to bee ill. 
 This boasting late in part hath causd mee now to say 
 
 my minde, 
 Though chalenges of yours also in every place I finde. 
 
 Thomas Brice. 
 
 Imprinted at London by John Aide for Edmond Halley and are to 
 he solde in Lumhard strete at the signe of the Egle. 
 
 A WARNING TO LONDON DAJ^IES. 
 
 It may be matter of conjecture whether Stephen Peell, the author 
 of the following, and of another ballad in this collection, were 
 not father to the distinguished poet George Peele. The Rev. 
 Mr. Dyce was probably not acquainted with the existence of 
 any such writer as Stephen Peell : if he knew nothing of him,
 
 OLD BALLADS. 53 
 
 we need not be surprised at the silence of all our other writers 
 upon old poets and poetry. It is impossible to assign a date to 
 this " Warning to all London Dames," but it may be given to an 
 early year in the reign of Elizabeth, and another production by 
 the same author (vide p. 65) clearly belongs to 1570. Stephen 
 Peell writes like a practised versifier, and in what follows there 
 are several pretty passages. 
 
 A PROPER NEW BALADE EXPRESSYNG THE FAMES 
 CONCERNING A WARNING TO ALL LONDON DAMES. 
 
 TO THE TUNE OF THE BLACKE ALMAINE. 
 
 You London dames whose passing fames 
 Through all the worlde is spread, 
 
 In to the skye ascendyng hye, 
 To every place is fled ; 
 
 For through each land and place, 
 
 For beauties kyndely grace, 
 You are renovvned over all, 
 You have the prayse and ever shall. 
 
 What wight on earth that can beliolde 
 
 More dearer and fayrer dames then you ? 
 Therfore to extoll you I may be bolde, 
 Your faces and graces so gay to view. 
 
 For vertues lore, and other thinges more, 
 
 Of truth you do excell : 
 I may well gesse for comelynesse, 
 
 Of all you beare the bell. 
 As trim in your arraye 
 As be the flowres in Maye; 
 
 With roset hew so bravely dight, 
 
 As twinkling starres that shyiieth by night.
 
 54 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 For curtesye in every parte, 
 Not many nor any resemble you can, 
 In lady natures comely arte, 
 So gravely and bravely to every man. 
 
 And oft when you goe, fayre dames, on a rowe 
 In to the feeldes so greene, 
 
 You sit and vewe the beautiful! hewe 
 Of flovvres that there be scene ; 
 
 Which lady Flora hath 
 
 So garnyshed in each path. 
 
 With all the pleasures that may be 
 (Fayre dames) are there to pleasure ye ; 
 
 Tyl frost doth come and nip the top, 
 
 And lop them and crop them, not one to be scene 
 So when that death doth hap to your lot. 
 Consider and gather what beauty hath beene. 
 
 For as the flowre doth change in an houre 
 That was so fayre to see ; 
 
 Consyder and gather, (fayre dames) the wether 
 May change as well with yee. 
 
 And turne your joyes as soone 
 
 As frost the flowres hath doone. 
 
 So sudden death may change as well 
 Your beauties that now doth excel 1, 
 
 And turne your sweetes to bitter and sowre ;. 
 
 When death with his breath comes stealing neare, 
 Such haps may hap to come in an houre, 
 W'hich ever or never you little dyd feare.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 55 
 
 Wlierfore I say, fay re dames so gay, 
 That death is busyest now 
 
 To catch you hence, where no defence 
 May make him once to bow. 
 
 Experience well doth try, 
 
 You see it with your eye. 
 
 How quickely some are taken hence, 
 Not youthfuU years may make defence : 
 
 And strange diseases many are scene 
 
 Encreasyng and preasyng to vexe us each day ; 
 But sure the lyke hath ever beene, 
 May hove you and move you to God to pray. 
 
 And learne to know, as grasse doth grovk' 
 
 And withereth into haye, 
 Remember therfore, kepe vertue in store. 
 
 For so you shall decaye. 
 And pitie on the poore, 
 With some parte of your store : 
 
 Loke that your lampes may ready bee ; 
 
 The dreadfull day approacheth nye, 
 When Christ shal come to judge our deeds. 
 No fairnes nor clerenes can helpe you than 
 
 The corne to seperate from the weeds, 
 
 Fayre dames when cometh the day of dome. 
 
 Now that I have sayd, let it be wayed. 
 
 It is no jesting toye ; 
 Not all your treasure can you pleasure, 
 
 It is but fadyng joye :
 
 56 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Therfore remember me 
 
 What I have sayd to yee. 
 
 And thus the Lorde preserve the Queene^ 
 Long space with us to live and raigne : 
 
 As we are all bound incessantlie 
 
 To desyre with prayr both night and day, 
 God to preserve her majestie. 
 Amen, let all her good subjects say. 
 
 Finis. Quoth Steven Peell. 
 
 Imprinted at S. Katherins by Alexander Lacie for Henrye 
 
 Kyrkham, dwellyng at the middle North dore 
 
 of S. Paules church. 
 
 A SUPPLICATION TO ELDERTON. 
 
 It is not easy to give anj' explanation of the circumstances out 
 of which the subsequent ballad arose. Its curiosity and value 
 depend much upon its personal allusions. We gather from it that 
 Leach was a manufacturer of hose, with whom Elderton had had 
 some literary skirmish, or "flyting," as our neighbours north of 
 the Tweed term it ; and William Fulwood, who was a writer as 
 early as 1562, (Ritson, Bibl. Poet. 213) seems to have interfered 
 " more to embroil the fray," by ironically taking part with the 
 less notorious combatant. In 1561 and 1562 John Allde had a 
 license to print " An Admonition to Elderton to leave the toyes by 
 hym begonne," but from the allusion made to Elderton's red nose 
 in the following effusion, it may be supposed that it was of some- 
 what later date. It was perhaps one of the " great many ballads" 
 which Dr. Dibdin informs us John Allde printed, the names of 
 none of which he furnishes.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 57 
 
 A SUPPLICATION TO ELDERTONNE FOR LEACHe's UNLEWDNES, 
 DESIRING HIM TO PARDONE HIS MANIFEST UNRUDENES. 
 
 Good gentle maister Eldertonne, 
 
 May I not you intreate, 
 To pardon Leache that he hath donne, 
 
 And not with him to frete ? 
 
 For I confesse, and know the same, 
 
 It was for lack of lewdnes, 
 That he so blasde abrode your name ; 
 
 Therefore forgive his rudenes. 
 
 For you may see he is in deed 
 
 An unrude simple man ; 
 Therefore of him take you no heed, 
 
 Sithe nurture none he can. 
 
 A seely simple man hee is. 
 
 As prooff may well be made, 
 For no more wit he hath, ywis, 
 
 But to call a spade a spade. 
 
 Therefore, though that your filthy rymes 
 
 He filthy name to bee. 
 Accuse him not, I say, of crimes ; 
 
 You hears his qualitie. 
 
 It was, no doubt, unhomely done 
 
 To chalenge in such case 
 So fyne a felow as Eldertonne, 
 
 That hath so fayre a face.
 
 ,58 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 But though your face be never so riche, 
 
 So precious or so gay, 
 Yet wil he scratche it if it itche, 
 
 The paines for to delay. 
 
 Wherefore you ought him thankes to geve 
 That vvorketh you such good, 
 
 And not to shake him by the sleeve, 
 To vvreke your angry moode. 
 
 I may well, must, and mervel much 
 
 What might be your intent, 
 Seth that you prove your selfe one such 
 
 As truth cannot content. 
 
 You showe that Leache you doo contemne. 
 
 Even by the self same reed 
 Wherein you do your self condemne : 
 
 I wishe you wolde take heed. 
 
 You binde it up vi'ith othes iiiow, 
 
 In faith, in faith, say yee ; 
 But by such frutes a man may know 
 
 The goodness of the tree. 
 
 A shame it is that you should bring 
 The example of Christ, I say, 
 
 And eke forthwith the self-same thing 
 So sore to disobey.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 59 
 
 For with the breach of charitie 
 
 You (loo him sharply charge, 
 And by and by outragiously 
 
 You raile on him at large. 
 
 Thus Sathan also for his turne 
 
 The scriptures can out-pike ; 
 And as you well his lesson learne, 
 
 So are your deedes a like. 
 
 You[r] harte is vaine and bent to evill, 
 
 Your toung also is naught ; 
 How can it be then but the devill 
 
 Must rule both toung and thought? 
 
 But hereby men may easely spie 
 
 How you doo Leache abuse. 
 Seth that your quarrell for to trie, 
 
 By scripture you refuse. 
 
 Therefore you go about, I see, 
 
 The scripture set aparte, 
 Unto your toies and vanitie, 
 
 His penne for to convart. 
 
 And if indeed you could him cause 
 
 From scripture for to flie, 
 No doubt, forsoth, but clause by clause 
 
 Much bravery should we see.
 
 60 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Then vvolde you leke, then wohl you laffe, 
 
 As you doo make reporte ; 
 Then wold you ansvvere every stafFe, 
 
 And that in sugred sorte. 
 
 In sugred sorte ? nay, poisened then 
 
 I might it better call, 
 Although it sugred seemes to men 
 
 Which are in sinfull thrall. 
 
 A wortiiy worke it is, doubtles, 
 
 And full of lerned skill, 
 Whereby appeareth your shameles 
 
 And wilful wicked will. 
 
 And where you write, that secretly 
 Your fault he should have tolde, 
 
 That might not be ; sith openly 
 Your selfe did it upholde. 
 
 And where as he ful skilfully 
 Takes scriptures for his stale, 
 
 You say in deed that wickedly 
 He useth them alwaie. 
 
 It is not streight way proved so, 
 
 When that you have it said, 
 Except you bring a profe thereto 
 
 Which cannot be denaid.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 61 
 
 As if that I should say in deed 
 
 You were an honest man, 
 All wise men might me then deride, 
 
 Sith prove it not I can. 
 
 I wolde now wishe you should forget 
 
 His science to deface ; 
 For honestly a man may get 
 
 His living in that race. 
 
 Muche better then the witte to spend, 
 
 A parasite to play, 
 The bad to please, the good to offend, 
 
 And play the foole all day. 
 
 And him methinkes you should not blame 
 
 That can well shape a hose ; 
 For he may likewise cut and frame 
 
 A case for your riche nose. 
 
 To make a hose is no suche shame 
 
 To Leache in his degree, 
 As is your nose a glorious fame 
 
 Upon your face to see. 
 
 It doth become you very ill 
 
 To talke so of your taile : 
 But you shal there your toung hold still. 
 
 As fitte for tounges that raile.
 
 G2 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 And if you still thus doo deny 
 Your knaverie to forbeare, 
 
 You shal therein have victory, 
 The garland you shall weare. 
 
 But heere I must full sore lament 
 
 The counsel you still geve 
 To your vile Jone, not to repent, 
 
 But beastly still to live. 
 
 O wicked man, darste thou be bolde, 
 Suche sinful seede to sovve? 
 
 And eke the same for to upholde, 
 In sinful hartes to growe? 
 
 O Lord, shal whoredom thus prevaile, 
 Shal men thus sinne mainteine? 
 
 Is this a christen common weale. 
 And can such filthe susteine? 
 
 O magistrates, play Phinehes parte 
 Towarde suche, be not to milde. 
 
 Which may procure most grevous smart 
 To many a mothers childe. 
 
 The whoredom of one heretofore 
 Great plagues to many hath brought, 
 
 Although the Lord eftsoons therfore 
 In him repentance wi'ought.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 63 
 
 What shal our lot be then, Oh Lord, 
 
 Which foster suche foule swine. 
 As live a lyfe to bee abhorde, 
 
 Yet glory and joye therein ? 
 
 Repent (O wretche) and eal for grace ; 
 
 Leave of these wicked toyes, 
 Lest Sathan reache thee sower sauce 
 
 To these thy pleasant joyes. 
 
 Now sir, if Leache, as you doe tell, 
 
 Seines fondly thinges to knit, 
 It is because you cannot well 
 
 Them honrie with reason hit. 
 
 A homely cloke wold serve full wel : 
 
 Is there none to be had? 
 If Eldertonne of none heare tell, 
 
 I doubt he will goe mad. 
 
 But if as you doo threaten, so 
 
 You fall for to bee wood, 
 You shall streight waies to Bedlem go, 
 
 To tame your madding mood. 
 
 Now, Eldertonne, I must desire 
 
 You to hold Leache excusde, 
 For that no reason doth appeare 
 
 Why he shuld so be usde.
 
 ()4 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 And sith that I thus curteously 
 
 For Leache doo you intreat, 
 Your phrensie so to satisfy, 
 
 You need no more to freat. 
 
 VVherfore, gentle Maiste Elderton, 
 
 As I may doo you pleasure, 
 Graunt this my supplication. 
 
 Which is not out of measure. 
 
 And thus subscribed, 
 The first day of June, 
 At which time you said 
 Beginneth your fume. 
 
 Qd. Willyam Fulwod. 
 
 Imprinted at London at the Long shop adjohiing unto Saint 
 Mildreds Church in the Pultry by John Aide. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF .JOHN FELTON. 
 
 John Felton, according to Stowe, was arraigned on the 4th, and 
 executed, by hanging and quartering before the Bishop of London's 
 palace, on the 8th August, 1570. His offence was hanging a bull 
 from the Pope on the gate of the Bishop of London. From the fol- 
 lowing ballad, (the second by the same author, Stephen Peell) it 
 appears also that the offender's quarters were exposed upon the 
 gates of the metropolis. It is in the form of an epistle to the 
 Pope, and is cleverly written, like "The Warning to London 
 Dames" to a very popular tune.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 65 
 
 A LETTER TO ROME TO DECLARE TO THE POPE 
 JOHN FELTON HIS FREEND IS HANGD IN A ROPE : 
 AND FARTHER, A RIGHT HIS GRACE TO ENFORME 
 HE DYED A PAPIST AND SEEMD NOT TO TURNE. 
 
 TO THE TUNE OF ROW WELL YE MAEINERS. 
 
 Who keepes Saint Angell gates ? 
 
 Where lieth our holy father, say ? 
 I muze that no man waytes, 
 
 Nor comes to meete me on the way. 
 Sir Pope, I say, yf you be nere, 
 Bow downe to me your listning eare : 
 Come forth, besturre you then a pace, 
 Fo[r] I have newes to show your grace. 
 
 Stay not, come on, 
 That I from hence were shortly gon : 
 
 Harke well, heare mee, 
 What tidings I have brought to thee. 
 
 The Bull so lately sent 
 
 To England by your holy grace, 
 John Felton may repent, 
 
 For settyng of the same in place ; 
 For he upon a goodly zeale. 
 He bare unto your common weale, 
 Hath ventured lyfe to pleasure you, 
 And now is hangd, I tell you true.
 
 66 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Wherfore, sir Pope, 
 In England have you lost your hope. 
 
 Curse on, spare not, 
 Your knights are lyke to go to pot. 
 
 But further to declare 
 
 He dyed your obedient chylde. 
 And never seemd to spare 
 
 For to exalt your doctrine wylde : 
 And tolde the people every one 
 He dyed your obedient sonne; 
 And as he might he did set forth 
 Your dignilie, thats nothyng worth ; 
 
 Your trash, your toyes 
 He toke to be his onely joyes : 
 
 Therefore hath wonne 
 Of you the crovvne of martirdome. 
 
 Let him be shryned then 
 
 According to his merits due, 
 
 As you have others doen 
 
 That prove unto their Prince untrue. 
 
 For these (sir Pope) you love of lyfe, 
 
 That with their Princes fall at stryfe, 
 
 Defendyng of your supreame power; 
 
 Yet som have paid full dearo therfore, 
 As now lately 
 
 Your freend John Felton seemd to try. 
 Therfore I pray 
 
 That you a masse for him wyll say.
 
 OLD BALTiADS. 67 
 
 Ryng all the belles in Rome, 
 
 To doe his sinful soule some good : 
 Let that be doen right soone, 
 
 Because that he hath shed his blood. 
 His quarters stand not all together, 
 But ye mai hap to ring them thether 
 In place where you wold have them be ; 
 Then might you doe as pleaseth ye. 
 
 For whye ? they hang 
 Unshryned each one upon a stang : 
 
 Thus standes the case, 
 On London gates they have a place. 
 
 J I is head upon a pole 
 
 Stands wavering in the wherling wynd, 
 But where shoulde be his soule 
 
 To you belongeth for to fynd : 
 I wysh you Purgatorie looke, 
 And search each corner with your hooke, 
 Lest it might chance, or you be ware, 
 The Devyls to catce him in a snare. 
 
 Yf ye him see, 
 From Purgatorie set him free : 
 
 Let not, trudge than, 
 Fetch Felton out, and yf ye can. 
 
 I wysh you now, sir Pope, 
 
 To loke unto your faithful freendes, 
 
 That in your Bulles have hope 
 
 To have your pardon for their sinnes ; 
 
 J.- 2
 
 68 OLD BALLADSw 
 
 For here, I tell you, everj^ lad 
 Doth scoff and scorne your bulles to bad, 
 And thinke they shall the better fare, 
 For hatyng of your cursed ware. 
 
 Now doe I end ; 
 I came to show you as a frend : 
 
 Whether blesse or curse, 
 You send to me, I am not the worse. 
 
 Finis. Steven Peele. 
 
 Imprinted by Alexander Lacie for Henrie Kirkham, dwellyng at 
 
 the signe of the blacke Boy : at the middle North 
 
 dore of Paules church. 
 
 THE POPE'S LAMENTATION. 
 
 The subsequent humorous ballad is in the same measure as 
 the preceding, and until now it has never been heard of. Ritson 
 (Bibl. Poet. 300) mentions Thomas Preston as the well-known 
 author of " Cambises," which Shakespeare ridicules, and of a 
 ballad called " A Geliflower, or swete Alarygolde," by the same 
 printer as the following, and one year earlier in point of date; but 
 Ritson knew nothing of this "Lamentation from Rome." It is 
 from first to last a piece of ridicule of the Pope and his Court, dis- 
 concerted at the news of the defeat of the rebels in Northumberland. 
 
 A LAMENTATION FROM ROME HOW THE POPE DOTH BEWAYLE, 
 THAT REBELLES IN ENGLAND CAN NOT PREVAYLE. 
 
 TO THE TDNE OF ROWE WELL YE MARINERS. 
 
 All you that newes would here, 
 Give eare to me, poor Fabyn Flye. 
 
 At Rome I was this yere, 
 
 And in the Pope his nose dyd lye ;
 
 OLD BALLADS. 69 
 
 But there I could not long abide, 
 He blew me out of every side ; 
 For furst when he had harde the newes 
 That Rebelles dyd their Prince misuse, 
 
 Then he with joye 
 Did sporte him selfe with many a toye : 
 
 He then so stout. 
 That from his nose he blew me out. 
 
 But as he was a slepe, 
 
 Into the same againe I goot : 
 I crept there in so depe. 
 
 That I had almost burnt my coote. 
 New newes to him was brought that night, 
 The Rebelles they were put to flight ; 
 But Lord, how then the Pope toke one, 
 And called for a Mary bone. 
 Up howgh ! make hast, 
 My lovers all be like to waste : 
 Ryse Cardnall, up priest, 
 Saint Peter he doth what he lest. 
 
 So then they fell to niesse : 
 
 The fryers on their beades did praye ; 
 The Pope began to blesse, 
 
 At last he weist not what to saye. 
 It chanced so the next day morne, 
 A post came blowing of his home, 
 Sayng Northomberland is take ; 
 But then the Pope began to quake. 
 
 He then rubd his nose;
 
 70 OT-l) BALLADS. 
 
 With pilgroiiie salve he noynt his liose. 
 
 Runne here, ninne ther - ; 
 His nayles for anger gan to pare. 
 
 Not Northomberland alone, 
 
 But many of his wicked ayd, 
 Such as thought not to grone : 
 
 They hoped well for to aplayd 
 Their partes, to have their hartes desire ; 
 But now is quenched their flames of fire. 
 The greatest and the meane beside, 
 With other youths fast bound must ride. 
 
 Ketch fast, kepe well, 
 There youthful! bloud they long to sell : 
 
 Trust this, dere Pope, 
 What is it than wherfore ye hope? 
 
 When he pei'ceaved well 
 
 The newes was true to him was brought, 
 Upon his knees he fell. 
 
 And then S. Peter he be sought. 
 That he would stand his frend in this, 
 To helps to ayd those servauntes his. 
 And he would do as much for him ; 
 But Peter sent him to Saint Simme. 
 
 So then he snuft, 
 The fryers all about he cuft : 
 
 He roarde, he cryde ; 
 The priests they durst not once abide. 
 
 The Cardnalles then they beginnes 
 To stav and take him in their arme.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 71 
 
 He spurnd them on the shinnes, 
 
 Away the[y] trudgd forfeare of harme. 
 
 So there the Pope was left alone. 
 
 Good Lord, how he dyd make his mone 1 
 
 The stooles against the walles he threwe, 
 
 And me out of his nose he blewe. 
 I hopt, I skipt, 
 
 From place to place about I whipt : 
 He swore, he tare. 
 
 Till from his crowne he pold the heare. 
 
 He courst me so about 
 
 In the house I could finde no rome. 
 Loth was I to go out, 
 
 And shrind my selfe under a brome. 
 Then by and by downe he was set ; 
 With anger he was one a svvet : 
 He rubde his elbovve on the wall. 
 So fell a rayling on Saint Paule. 
 
 Fye, fye, bloud, harte ! 
 He scratchd him selfe till he dyd smart. 
 
 Poll nose, rube eye, 
 Grash the teth, draws mouth awrye. 
 
 He wept and wrong his handes, 
 
 Yea, worse and worse began to fret : 
 
 Thus raging still he standes ; 
 
 Then out at doore I dyd me get. 
 
 I was not sooner gone from thence. 
 
 But vvoise and worse was his pretence.
 
 72 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 The post he plucked from the house, 
 He left no harbour for a mouse. 
 
 Thus now the Popes mad, 
 Because no better lucke they had ; 
 
 Forlorne, molest, 
 That they so ill their meate digest. 
 
 When I had vevved all, 
 
 To bring this newes my winges I spred. 
 To this parplict is he fall, 
 
 I wish some would go hold his head ; 
 For certainely he doth yll fare ; 
 Yet for the same I do not care, 
 For God his power will convince, 
 And ayd with right his beloved prince. 
 
 Then, Pope, radge thou: 
 The God in heaven hath made a vowe 
 
 To kepe all his. 
 That God is just, our stay he is. 
 
 Finis. Qd. Thomas Preston. 
 
 Imprinted at London in Fletestrete at the Signe of the Faulcon by 
 
 Wylliam GryfEth and are to be solde at his shoppe 
 
 in Saint Dunstones Churchyard. 1570. 
 
 STUTELEY'S VOYAGE TO FLORIDA. 
 
 Most of the existing information regarding the celebrated adven- 
 turer Thomas Stately, or Stukeley, is to be found in a note to 
 Dyce's Peek's Works, ii. 82. The name of Robert Seall, who 
 subscribes the ensuing ballad, is new in poetical bibliography ;
 
 OLD BALLADS. 73 
 
 and if he wrote anything else, it lias not been recovered. John 
 Allde must have printed this broadside at an early date, because 
 Stuteley's voyage to Florida was one of his lirst enterprises. The 
 parallel between Stutelcy and Columbus, near the end, is singular. 
 It is no where inserted among the productions of Allde's press. 
 
 A COMMENDATION OF THE ADXENTERUS VIAGE OF THE 
 
 WURTHY CAPTAIN, M. THOMAS STUTELY ESQUYER 
 
 AND OTHERS TOWARDS THE LAND CALLED 
 
 TERRA FLORIDA. 
 
 If fortunes force procure 
 
 The valiant noble hart 
 In travail pain and daungers great, 
 
 In warres to have his part ; 
 
 If losse of goods insue 
 
 Through valiant enterprise, 
 Or for slaknes, or the foresight 
 
 Of diligent advise ; 
 
 Yet of his wurthy praise 
 
 I can not speak tomiche, 
 Who ventreth both his goods and life 
 
 His contrey to enriche. 
 
 The worldly wise doo muse, 
 
 And also doo envay 
 At noble harts, when that their welths 
 
 Doo fall unto decay.
 
 74 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 As now of late I knew, 
 
 And saw the evidence, 
 Of one whose part it was to shew 
 
 The like experience. 
 
 A noble hart in deed, 
 
 And wurthy great renowne, 
 
 Whose fortune was not to remain 
 In cittie nor in towne. 
 
 A yong Eneas bolde. 
 
 With hart and courage stout. 
 Whose enterprise was only pight 
 
 Straunge things to bring about. 
 
 And though that all men seemd 
 
 His dooings to deride, 
 Yet this his fact he would not leve, 
 
 Nor throwe it so a side. 
 
 But stil he dooth procui'e 
 
 With boldned hart and minde 
 
 That thing which erst he had assayd 
 By travail now to finde. 
 
 Into a land unknowne 
 
 To win hym wurthy fame, 
 
 As exequies and memory 
 Of his most noble name ;
 
 OLD BALLADS. 75 
 
 Whiche if it fall to his lot 
 
 With fortunes helping hand, 
 He may wel make a lawhing stock 
 
 Of them whiche him withstand. 
 
 Some terme it Stolida, 
 
 And Sordida it name ; 
 And to be plain, they doo it mock 
 
 As at a foolishe game. 
 
 If reasons sence be cause 
 
 Of this forespoken talke. 
 Or fayned folly be the ground 
 
 Why mennes tungs thus doo walke, 
 
 Then might it seem to me 
 
 The Frenches labour lost, 
 Their careful pain and travail eke 
 
 That they therein have cost. 
 
 The cronicles also, 
 
 Whiche only seem as trew, 
 And writ by them that of that place 
 
 Before did take the vew. 
 
 The Spaniards eke doo shew, 
 
 And verify the same. 
 To be described as a thing 
 
 Deserving suche a name.
 
 76 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 The Portingales doo say 
 
 The crownacles be just, 
 And all that travaild have that coste 
 
 The same confes it must. 
 
 Of that in times before 
 
 Through talkes men have refraind, 
 Whiche for the love of travail sore 
 
 Their harts have long been paind. 
 
 Columbus, as I reed. 
 
 The space of many yeeres 
 
 Was counted as unwise also, 
 As in writers appeeres. 
 
 His ernest sute denied. 
 
 Yet in the finall ende 
 His wurds and deeds did seem at length 
 
 On reason to depend. 
 
 The like assay in hand 
 
 He did at last procure, 
 Whose life and lucky viages 
 
 Good fortune did assure. 
 
 At thend in savety home 
 
 At length he did retourn, 
 And quenched all their mocking harts, 
 
 Whiche erst did seem to burn.
 
 OLD BALLADS. / / 
 
 For fire of force must needs 
 
 Declare his burning heat, 
 Though for a time in smothering smoke 
 
 It seemes it self to beat. 
 
 So talk of tungs may not 
 
 By smothering through be tame, 
 
 But bursting out at length wil turn 
 Into a firye flame. 
 
 And then, the mallice gon, 
 
 The fire falleth down 
 x\nd quenched quite, as by this man, 
 
 Whiche was of great renowne. 
 
 Now, Stuetley, hoice thy sail, 
 
 Thy wished land to finde, 
 And never doo regard vain talke, 
 
 For wurds they are but winde. 
 
 And in reproof of all, 
 
 I will not once refrain 
 With prayer for to wish that thou 
 
 Maist safely come again. 
 
 And that sum frute at length 
 
 By travail thou maist finde, 
 With riches for to satisfy 
 
 Thy manly modest minde. 
 
 Finis. Qd. Robert Seall. 
 
 Imprinted at London at the long Shop adjoyniug unto Saint 
 Mildreds Churche in the Pultrie, by John AUde.
 
 78 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 THE FLOODS OF BEDFORDSHIRE, &c. 
 
 The subsequent ballad gives us the earliest notice of that extra- 
 ordinarily popular actor, Richard Tarlton, whose name is sub- 
 scribed as the author of it. Whether he was on the stage at this 
 time, must be matter of speculation ; but it is certain that he was 
 not a member of the first authorized theatrical company — that of 
 the Earl of Leicester, in 1574. (Vide Hist, of Dramatic Poetry and 
 the Stage, i. 211.) He is not spoken of as an actor until 1583, when, 
 with Wilson, he was at the head of the twelve players selected by 
 the Queen as her own company; but he must have obtained cele- 
 brity considerably before that date, and we know that he died in 
 September 1588. According to the writer of the play, " The 
 Three Lords and Three Ladies of London," published only two 
 years after Tarlton's death, he was originally "a water-bearer." It 
 seems probable that he had obtained some reputation prior to the 
 following temporary effusion, and that that reputation was employed 
 to secure it an additional sale, for it certainlj' has little merit as 
 an original composition. In 1578, John Allde (the printer of 
 what follows) had a license to publish '' Tarlton's device upon 
 this unlocked for great snowe." (Dibdin's Typ. Ant. iv. 579.) 
 The ensuing ballad was not the only production upon the occasion 
 to which it relates, for William How in 1571 printed '■ A Decla- 
 ration of such tempestuous and outragious Fluddes as hath been 
 in divers places of England. 1570." We may gather from 
 Thomas Nash's "Terrors of the Night," 4to. 1594, that " Tarl- 
 ton's Toys" had appeared in 1586, but Tarlton's " Jests" and 
 "News out of Purgatory" were published after his decease. The 
 precise share he had in the extemporal play of " The Seven Deadly 
 Sins," may be disputed. Stowe mentions the " terrible tempest of 
 wind and rain," on 5th October, 1570. 
 
 A VERY LAMENTABLE AND WOFULL DISCOURS OF THE FIERCE 
 
 FLUDS, WHICHE LATELY FLOWED IN BEDFORD SHIRE, I\ 
 
 LINCOLN SHIRE, AND IN MANY OTHER PLACES, WITH 
 
 THE GREAT LOSSES OF SHEEP AND OTHER CATTEL, 
 
 THE 5 OF OCTOBER 1570. 
 
 All faithful harts come waile, 
 
 Com rent your garments gay, 
 Els nothing can prevaile 
 
 To turn Gods wrath awav.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 79 
 
 Of waters fierce and fel, 
 
 And fluds both huge and hie, 
 
 You may report and tel 
 Of places far and nye. 
 
 Of monsters very rare, 
 That are unseemly borne, 
 
 Whiche dooth at large declare 
 We live as men forlorne. 
 
 We live and linger stil, 
 We wander quite astray, 
 
 We want true Christians skil 
 To guide us in the way. 
 
 Ful straunge unseemly sights 
 We may behold e and see, 
 
 What mis-deformed wights 
 Of women borne there bee. 
 
 Ouse bridge was lately lost 
 By force of roring streame, 
 
 Which many a crowne hath cost, 
 In this our English realme. 
 
 Why should I make delay. 
 Reciting of such acts ? 
 
 What need I more to say 
 Of vice and worldly facts?
 
 80 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 As erst I did pretend, 
 So forward will I glide, 
 
 To tel the totall end, 
 
 What hapned at this tide. 
 
 By rushing rivers late, 
 In Bedford town, no nay, 
 
 Ful many a woful state 
 
 May yeeld to fast and pray. 
 
 At twelve a clock at night. 
 It flowde with such a hed. 
 
 Yea, many a woful wight 
 Did swim in naked bed. 
 
 Among the rest there was 
 A woful widow sure, 
 
 Whome God did bring to passe 
 The death she did procure. 
 
 Widow Spencer by name : 
 A sleep she beeing fast, 
 
 The flud so rashly came, 
 That she aloft was cast. 
 
 Which seeing started up. 
 Regarding small her pelf, 
 
 She left beside her bed, 
 
 And so she drownd her self.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 81 
 
 The houses very strong, 
 The cattel great and small, 
 
 Were quickly laid along. 
 And so they perisht all. 
 
 The geldings tall and brave 
 In stables rashly roules : 
 
 The churche was over flowed 
 In Bedford, named Poules. 
 
 The gardens round about. 
 The sheep in marsh or feeld, 
 
 The river was so stout 
 
 They knew not where to sheeld. 
 
 The kine and oxen, to, 
 
 Were all drowned by force. 
 
 They west not what to doo. 
 It had so small remorse. 
 
 O Lord, this flud was straunge, 
 And none occasion why ; 
 
 The wether did not chaunge. 
 The wind was nothing hie. 
 
 There was no store of raine, 
 
 But very little sure, 
 That wee should thus sustaine 
 
 The losse we did endure.
 
 82 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 The arke of father Noy 
 
 Was had in minde as than, 
 
 When God did clene destroy 
 Both woman, childe and man. 
 
 But that he prorais made, 
 When he did heer remaine, 
 
 The world should never vade 
 By waters force againe ; 
 
 Els would we then have thought 
 The diedful day of doome 
 
 Had been both shape and wrought 
 To drown us all and some. 
 
 Upon the Saboth day 
 
 We were amazed all ; 
 In church we could not pray, 
 
 But in the judgement hall 
 
 We were assembled there, 
 With praiers most devout 
 
 To God, with many a tere, 
 To tame this river stout. 
 
 No horse nor man could passe 
 Of busines small or post, 
 
 For issue none there was, 
 No way but to be lost.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 83 
 
 In Bedford town, I knowe, 
 This many score of yeeres, 
 
 Did never rivers flowe, 
 
 To bring us in such feares. 
 
 By chaunce I came in place, 
 This great mischaunce to tel, 
 
 To end our crooked race 
 What fotune late befel. 
 
 Which tale no sooner doon, 
 Two men along did walke : 
 
 Betwixt us we begon 
 
 To raise some further talke. 
 
 What cuntrey men they were 
 I did request to knowe: 
 
 They said of Lincoln shire. 
 The certen trueth is so. 
 
 Quod they, your losse is small, 
 But one hath lost her life : 
 
 He askt what dame she was ? 
 I said one Spencer's wife. 
 
 In Lincoln shire (he said) 
 
 We have sustaind great losse : 
 
 Our stomacks are decaide, 
 That late so frolick was 
 
 g2
 
 84 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Our cattel in like case 
 
 Are drownd and cast away ; 
 For oure offence in every place 
 
 The dum beasts truly pay. 
 
 We have not scaped so : 
 
 Both widow, man and wife. 
 Since first this flud did flowe, 
 
 Have gained losse of life. 
 
 "When that the waters seast, 
 
 As I and more doo knowe, 
 Ther did from skies discend 
 
 A great and greevous snowe. 
 
 x\nd so we parted then. 
 
 Bewailing both togither, 
 Like poor and out cast men, 
 
 This sudden chaunge of wether. 
 
 In us therefore for shame 
 
 Let vice no more be seene. 
 And eke our selves to frame 
 
 To serve a right our Queen. 
 
 P'inis. Qd. Richard Tarlton. 
 
 Imprinted at London at the long shop adjoyning unto Saint 
 Mildreds Churche in the Pultrye by John Allde. 1570.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 85 
 
 ADMONITION TO THE PAPISTS. 
 
 This ballad, subscribed " G. B." may have been by Gulielmus or 
 William Birch, the author of a former piece of the same kind in 
 the present volume: William Baldwin, who was a writer of con- 
 siderable celebrity, and one of the original projectors of " The 
 Mirror for Magistrates," sometimes used the initials G. B. and 
 1371 is not perhaps too late a date for him. The following is, 
 however, precisely in the pious, puritanical spirit of Birch. It 
 was unknown to Dibdin, Ames and Herbert, and is therefore not 
 enumerated among the productions of Awdeley's press. Towards 
 the close it refers to the execution of John Felton in the year pre- 
 ceding, regarding which we have already inserted a contemporary 
 effusion by Stephen Peel. The " three trees," of which the 
 Homan Catholics are told in the title to beware, of course meant 
 " the triple gallow-tree," or "the three legged mare," as it was 
 sometimes called in the language of the time. 
 
 A FREE ADMONITION WITHOUT ANV FEES, 
 
 TO WARNE THE PAPISTES TO BEWARE OF THREE TREES. 
 
 If that you be not past all grace, 
 
 O Papystes, heare mee speake ; 
 Let reason rule and truth take place, 
 
 Cease you from that you seeke. 
 Can you God or his woord deface ? 
 
 Can you the truth wythstand? 
 Can you our noble Queene displace, 
 
 And yet lyve in England ? 
 
 Take heede, beware the Devyll is a kiiavf. 
 
 He wyl you sure begile : 
 In cruelty he would you have 
 
 To serve hym here awhile :
 
 86 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Witli lying and hipocrisy 
 
 His liyngdonie to uiayntayne, 
 Contemning truth and equity, 
 
 This is his subtile trayne. 
 
 Let cursed Cain example be 
 
 That slew Abel his brother ; 
 Whom neither God with majesty, 
 
 Could move to leave his murder, 
 Nor yet the godly lyfe of hym 
 
 That gave hym none offence, 
 Tyll he had heaped up hys synne 
 
 In practisyng his pretence. 
 
 Let Core and Dathan come from hell 
 
 Where now they do remayne, 
 That they their minds at length mai tel 
 
 Wherfore they ther remain ; 
 Namely for that they did rebel 
 
 And would not be perswaded, 
 But would be Lordes in Israel, 
 
 Tyll hell had them devoured. 
 
 What could make Absalon meeke and tame, 
 
 And to desist from rage ? 
 His father Davids worthy fame, 
 
 Or yet his counsel sage ? 
 No, no, these things wil not prevail 
 
 With hym that feares not God ; 
 The force of doctrine there doth fail, 
 
 Tyl God strike with his rod.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 87 
 
 And as the Devil in these did rage 
 
 To vvorke his vvycked wyll, 
 That nothyng coulde theyr furye swage 
 
 Tyl they did it fulfyl, 
 So that the law of God and man 
 
 They sought to overthrow ; 
 Even so of late I truly can 
 
 The lyke unto you show. 
 
 When kyng Edward of worthy fame 
 
 Had Antichrist put downe, 
 And to the glory of Gods name, 
 
 Had placed ti^uth in her roome : 
 The Denshire dolts, like Rebels ranck 
 
 In rusty armour ranged, 
 But hangd wer som, their carions stanck, 
 
 The world was quickly changed. 
 
 And then dyd Ket, the tanner stout, 
 
 In NorfFolke play his part, 
 Assembling such his rebels rout. 
 
 That innocents might smart. 
 But hanged he \vas, this was his end, 
 
 And so ende all the sort 
 That Rebels are and wyll not mend, 
 
 A rope be their comfort. 
 
 Such blessings as the Nortons had, 
 
 And such as Felton found, 
 God send Iheni all that are so bad 
 
 With heeles to blesse the ground
 
 88 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 If that you like not for to have 
 
 This blessyng in a rope, 
 Leave of you rebels for to rave, 
 
 And curse your clad the Pope. 
 
 Which makes you oft such crowes to pul. 
 
 Then leaves you in the mire ; 
 In sending you to such a Bull, 
 
 This is but symple hire : 
 Behold the end of this attempt 
 
 That last here was begun, 
 Loe, God your doyng doth prevent 
 
 The rebels race to run. 
 
 Synce God by grace doth guyde hys tlock 
 
 That none can them anoy. 
 If you be grafted in this stocke 
 
 He wyl you not destroy. 
 Feare God, flee syn, the truth embrace, 
 
 And seeke your Prince to please, 
 Obey the lawes and call for grace, 
 
 So shall you lyve at peace. 
 
 God save our Queene Elizabeth. 
 
 Finis. Qd. G. B. 
 
 Imprinted at London by John Awdely, for Henry Kirkhain, 
 
 dwelling at the middle North doore of Paules, at the signe 
 
 of the blacke Boy. The xii of December. 157L
 
 OLD BALLADS. 89 
 
 THE FALL OF ANTWERP. 
 
 The date of this ballad is only to be ascertained from the event to 
 which it relates : it is no where mentioned among the productions 
 of AUde's press, (which range between 1561 and 1590") though Dr. 
 Dibdin informs us " a great many ballads" were licensed to him. 
 Ralph or Rafe Norris is one of several names in this collection 
 quite new in our poetical bibliography, and no other production of 
 his pen is known. The tune to which he wrote, " Row well, ye 
 mariners," was very popular, as may be seen from Mr. W. Chap- 
 pell's "National English Airs," p. 134; and we have already 
 inserted two specimens of verse adapted to it. Camden introduces 
 the siege and sacking of Antwerp by the Spaniards among the 
 events of the year 1570, and there can be little doubt that the 
 " Warning to London" appeared very soon afterwards. 
 
 A WARNING TO LONDON BY THE FALL OF ANTWERP 
 
 TO THE TUNE OF ROW WEL YE MARINERS. 
 
 The sturdy oke at length, 
 
 When forse doth fail, though nere so tall, 
 Resigneth up his strength 
 
 By boistrous blasts unto the fal: 
 The stately stag in time dooth yeeld 
 Him self a pray to dogs in feeld : 
 The pecock proud, the swelling swan, 
 At last dooth serve the use of man. 
 
 Pride, pompe, plumes gay, 
 Must have a fall, who ere say nay : 
 
 Hye mindes, state, power, 
 Shall come to end within an houre. 
 
 Let Antwerp warning be, 
 
 Thou stately London, to beware.
 
 90 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Lest, resting in thy glee, 
 
 Thou wrapst thy self in wretched care. 
 Be vigilant, sleepe not in sin, 
 Lest that thy foe doo enter in : 
 Keep sure thy trench, prepare thy shot ; 
 Watch wel, so shall no foil be got. 
 
 Stand fast, play thy parte ; 
 Quail not, but shew an English hart. 
 
 Dout, dread, stil fear, 
 For Antwerps plague approcheth neer. 
 
 Leave tearing of thy God, 
 
 Let vain excesse be laid aside; 
 
 Els shalt thou feel the rod 
 
 Prepared for to scou[r]ge thy pride. 
 
 Forsake thy Devilish drunken trade. 
 
 Which almoste hath the entrance made. 
 
 Erect your walles, give out your charge ; 
 
 Keep wel your ray, run not at large. 
 Faint not, fiercely fight : 
 
 Shrink not, but keep your countries right. 
 Stand stout, on Jesus call. 
 
 And he no doubt will help you all. 
 
 Trust not a civil foe 
 
 Which under coulour wisheth good, 
 For ere thy self doost knowe. 
 
 By craft he seeks to have thy blood. 
 The snake in grasse doth groveling lie. 
 Til for revenge due time he spie.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 91 
 
 The leering dog doth bite more sore, 
 Then he that warning gives before. 
 
 Fine flattery, fair face 
 Much discorde breeds in every place. 
 
 Fire shot must be to hot 
 For those which have their God forgot. 
 
 Rejoyce not if thow see 
 
 Thy neighbours house set on a flame, 
 For like thy luck may be, 
 
 Unlesse thou wel prevent the same. 
 The scourge which late on Antwerp fel, 
 Thy wrack and ruine dooth foretel. 
 Make not a gibing jest therat, 
 Lest stately Troy be beaten flat. 
 
 Pray God faithfully 
 To save us from all treachery. 
 
 Dout not if we doo so. 
 We shall escape the forain fo. 
 
 Pray we with one accurde. 
 
 That God our Queene may ay defend 
 From those which seeke by swoord 
 
 To bring her graces reign to end. 
 Cut of (O Lord) their devilish dayes, 
 And graunt her life thy name to praise. 
 Garde her with grace, her champion be, 
 That she may gain the victory.
 
 92 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Hope wel, pray stil : 
 God is our guide, we feare none il. 
 
 Fear not, watch, pray : 
 God sheeld this Citie from decay. 
 
 Amen. Qd. Rafe Norris. 
 
 Imprinted at London at the long Shop adjoyning unto S. Mildreds 
 Church in the Pultrie by John Allde. 
 
 THE LARK AND HER FAMILY. 
 
 RiTSON, who mentions this ballad (Bibl. Poet. 137), informs us 
 that the author's name is not Arthur Bour, as it is subscribed at 
 the end, but Arthur Bourcher ; and certainly a person of the latter 
 name has a poem in " The Paradise of Dainty Devices." What 
 follows was twice printed, and the copy here adopted was of the 
 later edition by Richard Jones. Mr. Heber had an earlier im- 
 pression. The apologue, which is from iEsop, has been frequently 
 translated, and three times at an early date, — viz. in prose, in 
 "The Palace of Pleasure," 4to. 1566; and in verse, in "The 
 Forrest of Fancy," ^to. 1579, (attributed bj'^ some to H. Chettle, 
 and by others to H. Constable, but in all probability by neither) 
 where it is related in ten-syllable alternate rhyme, and by Arthur 
 Bour or Boucher, very cleverly, as follows. 
 
 A WORTHY MYRROUR, WHERIN YE MAY MARKE 
 
 AN EXCELLENT DISCOURSE OF A BREEDING LARKE : 
 
 BY READYNG WHEROF PERCEYVE WELL YE MAY 
 
 WHAT AT TRUST IS FREENDES OR ON KINSFOLKS TO STAY. 
 
 A LARKE sometimes did breed 
 
 Within a field of corne, 
 And had increase when as the grayue 
 
 Was redy to be shorne.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 93 
 
 Shee, wary of tlie tyme 
 
 And carefull for her nest, 
 Debated wisely with her selfe 
 
 What thynge to doo were best. 
 
 For to abyde the rage 
 
 Of cruell reapers hande, 
 Shee knew it was to perillous, 
 
 "With safetie for to stande : 
 
 And to dislodge her broode, 
 
 Unable yet to fly, 
 (Not knowing whither to remove) 
 
 Great harraes might hap thereby. 
 
 Therfore shee ment to staye 
 
 Tyll force constraynd to fleete, 
 And in the whyle for to provyde 
 
 Some other place as meete. 
 
 The better to provyde 
 
 The purpose of her raynde ; 
 She would fortliwith go seeke abroad, 
 
 And leave her yong behind: 
 
 But first shee bad them all 
 
 Attend their mothers wyll, 
 Which carefull was for to eschewe 
 
 Each likelyhood of yll.
 
 94 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 This corne is ripe (quoth shee,) 
 
 Wherin we nestled are, 
 The which (if heede prevents not hariues] 
 
 May cause our mortall care. 
 
 Therfore to fence with skyll 
 
 The sequeall of mishap pes, 
 I wyli provyde some other place 
 
 For feare of afterclappes. 
 
 Whilste I for this and foode 
 
 Am flowen hence awaye. 
 With heedefull eares attentive bee 
 
 What commers by doo saye. 
 
 Thus sayde shee vaunste her selfe 
 
 Upon her longest toe. 
 And mounted up into the skies, 
 
 Styll singing as shee flowe. 
 
 Anone shee home returnde 
 
 Full fraught with choyce of meate ; 
 
 But loe, (a suddaine change) her byrdes 
 For feare could nothyng eate. 
 
 Therwith agast she cryed, 
 
 What, how ? what meaneth this? 
 
 I charge ye on my blessyng tell 
 What thyng hath chaunst amis.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 95 
 
 Are these my welcomes home, 
 
 Or thankes for foode I have ? 
 Ye wonted were with chirping cheare 
 
 To gape before 1 gave : 
 
 But now such quawmes oppresse 
 
 Your former quiet kynde, 
 That (quite transformed) dumb mute things, 
 
 And senselesse soules I finde. 
 
 The prime and eldest birde 
 
 (Thuscheckt) began to say, 
 Alas, deare dame, such news we hard 
 
 Sence ye were flowen awaye, 
 
 That were it not the trust 
 
 That wee repose in you, 
 Our lives were lost remediles 
 
 We know it well ynow. 
 
 The owner of this plot 
 
 Came hither with his sonne, 
 And sayd to him, tliis wheat must down, 
 
 'Tis more than time 'twere don: 
 
 Go get thee to my friendes, 
 
 And byd them come to morne, 
 And tell them that I crave their helpes 
 
 To reape a peece of corne.
 
 .96 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 The Larke that was the dam 
 Stood in a dump a whyle. 
 
 And alter said, his frindes (quoth hee) 
 And then began to smile. 
 
 Tush, friendes are hard to finde. 
 True friendship seild appeares : 
 
 A man may misse to have a friend, 
 That lives olde Nestors yeares. 
 
 True Damon and his friend 
 Long ere our time were dead : 
 
 It was in Greece, a great way hence. 
 Where two such friends were bred. 
 
 Our country is to colde 
 
 To foster up a friende, 
 Tyll proofe be made eche one wyll say, 
 
 Slyll yours unto the ende. 
 
 But trye in time of neede 
 
 And all your friends are flowen ; 
 
 Suche fruitlesse seede, suche fickle stay 
 In faithlesse friendes is sowen. 
 
 Therfore be of good cheere, 
 Revive your dulled sprites, 
 
 Expell the care that causelesse thus 
 Bereaves you of delightes.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 97 
 
 Let no surmised feare 
 
 Deprive your eyes of sleepe, 
 My selfe wyll be amongst ye still. 
 
 That safely shall ye keepe. 
 
 And sweare eene by the tufte 
 
 That growes upon my crowne, 
 If all his helpe be in his freendes 
 
 This corne shall not goe downe. 
 
 The yong, assured by her 
 
 That such an othe dyd sweare, 
 Dyd passe the time with wonted sleepe, 
 
 And banisht former feare. 
 
 And when the drowsie night 
 
 Was fled from gladsome daye, 
 She bad them wake and looke about, 
 
 For she must go her way. 
 
 And saide, I warrant you, 
 
 These friendes wyll not come heere ; 
 Yet notwithstanding, listen well. 
 
 And tell me what you heare. 
 
 Anone the farmer came. 
 
 Enraged, wellnie madde, 
 And sware who so depends on friends. 
 
 His case is worse then badde :
 
 98 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 I wyll go fet my kinne 
 
 To helpe mee with this geare : 
 
 In things of greater weight then this 
 Their kindred shall aopeare. 
 
 The larkes, their dam returnd, 
 
 Informed her of all, 
 And how that he hymselfe was gone 
 
 His kindred for to call. 
 
 But when she hard of kinne 
 Shee laughinge cried aniayne, 
 
 A pin for kin, a figge for friendes, 
 Yet kinne the worst of twayne. 
 
 This man him selfe is poors 
 Though wealthy kine he have, 
 
 And kindred now a dayes doth quaile 
 When neede compelles to crave. 
 
 No, no, he shall returne 
 With yll contented minde ; 
 
 His paynes shall yeald but losse of time. 
 No succoure he shall finde. 
 
 They all are so addicte 
 
 Unto their private gayne. 
 That if ye lacke power to requite 
 
 Your sutes are all in vayne.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 99 
 
 My selfe am over chardgde 
 
 With harvest, ye raaye see, 
 And neerer is my skin then shirte : 
 
 This shall their answer bee. 
 
 Therfore, as earste of friendes 
 
 So saye I now of kin : 
 Wee shall receyve no hurte by them 
 
 Nor he no profite win. 
 
 Yet listen once agayne 
 
 What now [h]is refuge is. 
 For kinred shalbe lyke to friendes ; 
 
 Be well assured of this. 
 
 I must go furnish up 
 
 A neast I have begone, 
 And wyll returne and bring ye meate 
 
 Assoone as it is done. 
 
 Then up she clam the clowdes 
 
 With suche a lusty saye 
 That it rejoyste her yonglinges hartes 
 
 As in their neast they laye : 
 
 And muche they did commende 
 
 Their mothers lofty gate, 
 And thought it long til time had brought 
 
 Them selves to such estate. 
 
 H 2
 
 100 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Thus whilste their twinkelynge eyes 
 
 Were rovyng to and fro, 
 They saw where as the Farmer came 
 
 That was their raortall foe. 
 
 Who after due complaintes, 
 
 Thus said in the ende; 
 I wyll from hencefoorth trust rayselfe, 
 
 And not to kinne nor friende. 
 
 Who gives me glosing wordes, 
 And fayles me at my needs. 
 
 May in my Pater noster bee, 
 But never in my Creede. 
 
 My selfe wyll have it downe, 
 Since needes it must be so, 
 
 For proofe hath taught me too mutch wit 
 To trust to any mo. 
 
 The birdes that listenyng lays 
 
 Attentive to the same, 
 Informde their mother of the whole 
 
 As soone as ere she came. 
 
 Yee, mary, then quoth shee, 
 
 The case now altered is : 
 We wyll no longer heare abyde ; 
 
 I alwayes feared this.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 101 
 
 But out she got them all 
 
 And trudged away apace, 
 And through the corn she brought them safe 
 
 Into another place, 
 
 God send her lucke to shun 
 
 Both hauke and fowlers gin, 
 And mee the hap to have no neede 
 
 Of friende, nor yet of kin. 
 
 Finis. Arthur Bour. 
 
 Printed at London by Richard Johnes. 
 
 THE EXECUTION OF BALLARD, &c. 
 
 The history of the plot in which Ballard, Babbington, Tichbourne 
 and others, were engaged in 15S6, is well known. The subsequent 
 ballad, by the celebrated Thomas Deloney, (his initials T. D. 
 being at the conclusion of it) was no doubt printed immediately 
 after the execution of the " fourteen most wicked traitors," on 
 the 20th and 21st September. At the top of the broadside are 
 woodcuts of fourteen heads, but they are not likenesses, but merely 
 engravings which the printer happened to have in his possession, 
 and which had been already used for Hill's work on Physiognomy, 
 and perhaps for other publications requiring illustration. 
 
 A PROPER NEW BALLAD, BREEFELY DECLARING THE DEATH 
 
 AND EXECUTION OF 14 MOST WICKED TRAITORS, WHO 
 
 SUFFERED DEATH IN LINCOLNES INNE FIELDE, NEERE 
 
 LONDON : THE 20 AND 21 OF SEPTEMBER 1586. 
 
 TO THE TUNE OF WEEP WEEP. 
 
 Rejoyce in hart, good people all, 
 Sing praise to God on hye, 
 
 Which hath preserved us by his power 
 From traitors tiranny ;
 
 102 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Which now have had their due desarts. 
 
 In London lately seen, 
 And Ballard was the first that died, 
 For treason to our Queene. 
 
 O praise the Lord with hart and minde, 
 
 Sing praise with voices cleare ; 
 Seth traiterous crue, have had their due 
 To quaile their partener's cheere. 
 
 Next Babington, that caitife vilde, 
 
 Was hanged for his hier ; 
 His carcasse likewise quartered, 
 
 And hart cast in the fier. 
 Was ever seen such wicked troopes 
 
 Of tray tors in this land, 
 Against the pretious woord of truthe, 
 
 And their good Queene to stand ? 
 Oh praise, &c. 
 
 But heer beholde the rage of Rome, 
 
 The fruits of Popish plants ; 
 Beholde and see their wicked woorks, 
 
 Which all good meaning wants ; 
 For Savage also did receave 
 
 Like death for his desert, 
 Which in that wicked enterprise 
 
 Should then have doon his part. 
 O praise, &c,
 
 OLD BALLADS. 103 
 
 O cursed catifes, void of grace, 
 
 Will nothing serve your turne, 
 But to behold your cuntries wrack, 
 
 In malice while you burne ? 
 And Barnwell thou, which Avent to view 
 
 Her grace in each degree, 
 And how her life might be dispatcht, 
 
 Thy death we all did see. 
 O praise, &c. 
 
 Confounding shame fall to their share. 
 
 And hellish torments sting, 
 That to the Lords annointed shall 
 
 Devise so vile a thing. 
 O Techburne, what bewitched thee 
 
 To have such hate in store, 
 Against our good and gratious Queene, 
 
 That thou must dye therfore ? 
 O praise, &c. 
 
 What gaine for traitors can returne, 
 
 If they their wish did win ? 
 Or what preferment should they get, 
 
 By this their trecherous sinne? 
 Though forraine power love treason well. 
 
 The traitors they dispise. 
 And they the first that should sustaine 
 
 The smart of their devise. 
 O praise, &c.
 
 104 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 What cause had Tilney, traitor stout, 
 
 Or Abbington likewise, 
 Against the Lords annointed thus 
 
 Such mischeef to devise ? 
 But that the Devill inticed them 
 
 Such wicked woorks to render ; 
 For which these seven did suffer death. 
 
 The twentith of September. 
 O praise, &c. 
 
 Seven more the next day following 
 
 Were drawen from the Tower, 
 Which were of their confederates. 
 
 To dye that instant hower: 
 The first of them was Salsburie, 
 
 And next to him was Dun, 
 Who did complaine most earnestly 
 
 Of proud yong Babington. 
 O praise, &c. 
 
 Both lords and knights of hye renowne 
 
 He ment for to displace, 
 And likewise all the towers and townes 
 
 And cities for to race : 
 So likewise Jones did much complaine 
 
 Of his detested pride. 
 And shewed how lewdly he did live 
 
 Before the time he died. 
 O praise, &c.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 105 
 
 Then Charnock was the next in place 
 
 To taste of bitter death ; 
 And prayins; unto holy saints, 
 
 He left his vitall breath. 
 And in like maner Travers then 
 
 Did suffer in that place, 
 And fearfully he left his life, 
 
 With crossing brest and face. 
 O praise, &c. 
 
 Then Gage was stripped in his shirt, 
 
 Who up the lather went. 
 And sought for to excuse him selfe 
 
 Of treasons falce intent. 
 And Bellamie the last of all 
 
 Did suffer death that daye ; 
 Unto which end God bring all such 
 
 As wish our Queenes decay. 
 O praise, &c. 
 
 O faulce, and foule disloyall men, 
 
 What person would suppose 
 That clothes of velvet and of silke 
 
 Should hide such mortall foes? 
 Or who would think such hiddenhate 
 
 In men so fair in sight, 
 But that the Devill can turne him selfe 
 
 Into an angell bright. 
 O praise, &c.
 
 106 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 But, soveraigne Queene, have thou no care. 
 
 For God, which knoweth all. 
 Will still maiutaine thy royall state, 
 
 And give thy foes a fall. 
 And for thy Grace thy subjects all 
 
 Will make their praiers still, 
 That never traitor in this land 
 
 May have his wicked will. 
 O praise, &c. 
 
 Whose glorious dales in England heere 
 
 The mighty God maintaine. 
 That long unto thy subjects joye 
 
 Thy Grace may rule and raigne. 
 And, Lord, we pray, for Christes sake. 
 
 That all thy secret foes 
 May come to naught, which seeke thy life 
 
 And Englands lasting woes. 
 
 O praise the Lord with hart and minde, &c. 
 
 The names of 7 Traitors The names of the other 
 
 which were executed on vii which were exe- 
 
 Tuesday being the xx cuted on the next 
 
 of September 1586. day after. 
 
 John Ballard Freest. Thomas Salsbury. 
 
 Anthony Babingtou. Henry Dun. 
 
 John Savage. Edward Jhones. 
 
 Robert Barrwell. John Travers. 
 
 Chodicus Techburne. John Chaniock. 
 
 Charles Tilney. Robert Gage. 
 
 Edward Abbington. Harman Bellamy. 
 
 Finis. T. D. 
 
 Imprinted at London at the Long Shop adjoyning unto Saint 
 Mildreds Churche in the Pultrie by Edward AUde.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 107 
 
 CHURCHYARD'S FAREWELL TO COURT. 
 
 Thomas Churchyard, the author of the subsequent hitherto 
 unknown production, was a versifier (not to dignify him by the 
 title of poet, to which he had few pretensions) from his early 
 youth, and he continued to ])rint his rhimes down to the very year 
 of his death, 1604, when he had attained the age of eighty-four. 
 Many of his publications were autobiographical, and a singular 
 and varied life might easily be composed from them. He was 
 patronized in the outset of his career by the Earl of Surrey, and 
 wrote some of the " Songes and Sonnettes," first printed in 1557. 
 At this time he was probably in the army, and so he continued 
 for many years, vainly seeking employment at court. The 
 following ballad was evidently written in a fit of despondency at 
 some disappointment of the kind ; and he laments the absence of 
 Lady Sydney from court, as the cause of it. He probably means 
 the widow of Sir Philip Sydney, which would fix the date of 
 the ballad prior to her marriage with Robert Earl of Essex. 
 Some new and interesting particulars regarding Churchyard and 
 his patrons are to be found in Mr. Wright's " Elizabeth and her 
 Times," 8vo. 1838. 
 
 A FAREWELL, CAULO CH U RCHE YEARDS ROUNDE, 
 FROM THE COURTE TO THE CUNTRY GROWND. 
 
 In courte yf largies be, 
 Why parte I thens so bare ? 
 Yf lords were franke and fre, 
 Sum dradg wold lordings spare. 
 To hyme whose tonge and penn 
 Myght showe in every coste 
 
 The worthynes of men, 
 
 And who desarvythe moste. 
 
 Full lyttill may be gott 
 Where hungry droppes do falle ; 
 Where all goes to the pott 
 The kitchine fese are smalle.
 
 108 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 The byrde can spare no plumes 
 That fathers gaye wolde have ; 
 The Courtyer all consumes 
 Who makes hymeselfe so brave. 
 
 No, no, here lyes in dede 
 The padde within the strawe ; 
 For eche man pleadethe neade, 
 And he is held a dawe 
 That gyves to such as wante, 
 And thynkes hyme selfe in lacke. 
 This makes the world so skant, 
 And tournythe all to wracke. 
 
 For fryndshype, cowlde as ise, 
 I wayted longe and late, 
 And gladde to playe the vice 
 To plesure eche estate ; 
 And ever dyd I hope 
 To hitt my wyshyd marks, 
 Yet lo, I dyd but grope 
 For gnats within the darke. 
 
 Perhappes the froste hath nypt 
 Eache noble lyberall hand, 
 Or ellse awaye is skypte 
 In to sume other lannde. 
 God send a thawe a gayne, 
 And shyppes drawe home as fast, 
 That pore men for ther payne 
 Maye fynde some welthe at last.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 10.9 
 
 I saught the Prynce to sarve, 
 
 As all oure dutyes is, 
 
 And hope I dyd desarve 
 
 A greter sute then this ; 
 
 But dayes and wekes are spente, 
 
 And worne my cotes ful thyne, 
 And all my yearly rent, 
 Yet founde no grace therein. 
 
 No monstoure sure I am, 
 Nor fowUe deformyd thynge ; 
 No shepe nor suckinge lame ; 
 More lycke to sarve a kinge. 
 As shall both hand and harte 
 At lengthe my wytnes be. 
 When profFe in any part 
 Shall be requyrde of me. 
 
 Had I but founde a wyght 
 In courte, when I was there, 
 The Lady Sydney hight, 
 All changed had byn this gere. 
 What happ had I to shue 
 Where no suche helpe is founde ? 
 O dames, yt blush not you, 
 Thought she in grace a bound. 
 
 Nowe from the courte to carte, 
 My horse and I must pase. 
 Who hathe the meryst harte. 
 Who is in better case.
 
 110 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 My horse or I, God knowes : 
 The one muste beare his charge, 
 
 The other where he goes 
 
 Must pourely lyve at large. 
 
 Finis. Quod. T. Churcheyeard. 
 
 Imprinted at London in Fletestrte at the Faucon, over againste 
 St. Dunstons Churche by Wylliam GryfRth. 
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH AT TILBURY. 
 
 It would be idle to conjecture to whom the initials T. J. at the 
 end of this spirited ballad belong: had it been some half century 
 later, it would have been confidently assigned to Thomas Jordan, 
 who was a prolific penman of pieces of this class. The production 
 itself is no where mentioned, and the only known writer of about 
 that period whose name corresponds is Thomas Jeney, who in 1568 
 printed " A Discours of the present Troobles in Fraunce," trans- 
 lated from Ronsard. It is improbable, both from the date and 
 style, that the ballad should have been by him. It gives a few 
 particulars respecting the Queen's visit to the camp at Tilbury 
 not found in contemporary historians. The date when the ballad 
 was printed, was of course shortly anterior to the destruction of the 
 Spanish Armada. 
 
 A JOYFUL SONG OF THE ROYALL RECEIVING OF THE QUEENES 
 
 MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTIE INTO HER HIGHNESSE CAMPE 
 
 AT TILSBURIE, IN ESSEX : ON THURSDAY AND FRYDAY 
 
 THE EIGHT AND NINTH OF AUGUST 1588. 
 
 TO THE TUNE OF TRIUMPH .\ND JOY. 
 
 Good English men, whose valiant harts, 
 With courage great and manly partes, 
 Doe minde to daunt the overthwarts 
 Of any foe to England,
 
 OLD BALLADS. Ill 
 
 Attend a while, and you shall heare 
 What love and kindnesse doth appeare 
 From the princely mind of our love deare 
 
 Elizabeth Queene of England. 
 To cheare her souldiers one and all, 
 Of honour great or title small, 
 And by what name you will them call : 
 
 Elizabeth Queene of England. 
 
 The time being dangerous now, ye know, 
 That forraigne enimies to and fro 
 For to invade us make a show. 
 
 And our good Queene of England, 
 Her Majestie by grave advise. 
 Considering how the danger lyes. 
 By all good meanes she can devise 
 
 For the safetie of all England, 
 Hath pointed men of honour right. 
 With all the speede they could or might, 
 A campe of men there should be pight 
 
 On Tilsburie hill in England. 
 
 Her grace being given to understand 
 The mightie power of this her land. 
 And the willing harts thereon she fand 
 
 From every shire in England ; 
 The mightie troupes have shewed the same, 
 That day by day to London came. 
 From shires and townes too long to name, 
 
 To serve the Queene of England.
 
 112 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Her grace, to glad their harts againe, 
 In princely person tooke the paine 
 To honour the troupes and martiall traine 
 In Tilsburie campe in England. 
 
 On Thursday the eight of August last 
 
 Her Majestic by water past, 
 
 When stormes of winde did blow so fast, 
 
 Would feare some folke in England ; 
 And at her forte she went on land. 
 That neare to Tilsburie (strong) doth stand. 
 Where all things furnisht there she fand 
 
 For the safe defence of England. 
 The great shot then did rage and roare, 
 Replyed by a forte on the other shore. 
 Whose poudred pellets, what would ye have more, 
 
 Would feare any foe in England. 
 
 Her highnesse then to the canape did goe, 
 
 The order there to see and know, 
 
 Which her Lord Generall did dutifully showe 
 
 In Tilsburie campe in England : 
 And everie captaine to her came. 
 And every officer of fame. 
 To show their duetie and their name 
 
 To their sovereign Queene of England. 
 Of tents and cabins thousands three. 
 Some built with bowes and many a tree, 
 And many of canvasse she might see 
 
 In Tilsburie campe in England.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 113 
 
 Each captaine had his colours brave 
 Set over his tent in winds to wave ; 
 With them their officers there they have 
 
 To serve the Queene of England. 
 The other lodginges had their signe 
 For souldiers where to sup and dine, 
 And for to sleepe with orders fine 
 
 In Tilsburie campe in England : 
 And vittaling boothes there plentie were, 
 Where they sold meate, bread, cheese and beere : 
 One should have been hangd for selling too dear 
 
 In Tilsburie campe in England. 
 
 To tell the joy of all and some 
 
 When that her Majestie was come, 
 
 Such playing on phiphes and many a drum 
 
 To welcome the Queene of England : 
 Displaying of ensignes very brave, 
 Such throwing of hats, what would ye have ? 
 Such cryes of joy, God keepe and save 
 
 Our noble Queene of England ! 
 And then to bid her grace good night, 
 Great ordenance shot with pellets pight, 
 Fourteene faire peeces of great might 
 
 To teaze the foes of England. 
 
 Her Majestie went then away 
 To the Court, where that her highnesse lay, 
 And came againe on the next day 
 To Tilsburie campe in England. 
 
 I
 
 114 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 The captaines yerly did prepare 
 To have their battell set out faire, 
 Against her highnesse coming there, 
 
 To Tilsburie canape in England ; 
 And long before her highnesse came 
 Each point was ordered so in frame, 
 Which served to set forth the fame 
 
 Of a royal campe in England. 
 
 The gallant horsemen mounted brave, 
 With stomackes stoute that courage have, 
 Whose countenance sterne might well deprave 
 
 In fight the foe of England ; 
 The armde men, bowmen, and the shot 
 Of muskets and calivers hot. 
 None of these wanted, well I wot. 
 
 In Tilsburie campe in England. 
 Fiftie ensignes spred there were. 
 Of severall colours fine and faire. 
 Of drums and phyphes gi'eat numbers there. 
 
 In Tilsburie campe in England. 
 
 The battell plac'd in order due, 
 A mightie host, I tell you true ; 
 A famous sight it was to view 
 
 That royall campe in England. 
 The hoast thus set in battell ray, 
 In braver sorte then I can say. 
 For want of knowledge to display 
 
 So goodly a campe in England.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 115 
 
 How the maine battell and the winges, 
 The vauntgarde, rearewarde and such thinges, 
 The horsemen whose sharpe launces stinges 
 In fight the foe of England. 
 
 The noble men and men of fame, 
 In duetie bound did show the same, 
 To waite when that her highness came 
 
 Our soveraigne Queene of England : 
 And she, being come into the field, 
 A martiall staflPe my lord did yeelde 
 Unto her highnesse, being our shield 
 
 And marshall chiefe of England. 
 Then rode she along the campe to see 
 To everie captains orderly. 
 Amid the rankes so royally, 
 
 The marshall chiefe of England. 
 
 What princely wordes her grace declarde, 
 What gracious thankes in every warde 
 To every souldier, none she sparde 
 
 That served any where for England. 
 With princely promisse none should lacke 
 Meate or drinke or cloth for backe, 
 Golde and silver should not slacke 
 
 To her marshall men of England. 
 Then might she see the hats to flye, 
 And everie souldeir shouted hye 
 For our good Queene wee'i fight or dye 
 
 On any foe to England. 
 
 I 2
 
 116 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 And many a captaine kist her hand 
 As she past forth through everie band, 
 And left her traine farre off to stand 
 
 From her marshall men of England. 
 Two houres she spent among them there. 
 Her princely pleasure to declare, 
 Where many a one did say and sweare 
 
 To live and dye for England ; 
 And would not aske one penny pay. 
 To charge her highnesse any way, 
 But of their owne would finde a stay 
 
 To serve her grace for England. 
 
 To my lordes pavilion then she went, 
 A sumptuous faire and famous tent. 
 Where dinner time her highnesse spent 
 
 With martiall men of England. 
 In the evening, when the tide was come. 
 Her highnesse thankt them all and some : 
 With trumpets shrile and sound of drum 
 
 Returnd the Queene of England, 
 To the blockhouse where she tooke barge ; 
 Their divers captaines had their charge. 
 Then shot the cannons off at large 
 
 To honour the Queene of England. 
 
 And thus her highnesse went away, 
 For whose long life all England pray, 
 King Henries daughter and our stay, 
 Elizabeth Queene of England.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 117 
 
 What subject would not spend his life 
 And all he hath to stay the strife 
 Of forraigne foe that seekes so rife 
 
 To invade this realme of England. 
 Therefore, deare countrie men, I say, 
 With hart to God let us all pray 
 To blesse our armies night and day. 
 
 That serve our Queene for England. 
 
 Finis. T. J. 
 
 London, Printed by John Wolfe for Richard Jones. 1588. 
 
 THE EXECUTION OF LUKE HUTTON. 
 
 A TRACT by Luke Hutton, of which there were two editions, the 
 first without date, and the last in 1638, is very well known, and 
 an account of it may be found in the Bridgewater Catalogue, 
 (privately printed for Lord Francis Egerton) p. 149. Hence it 
 appears also that Hutton was the author of an earlier production, 
 called his " Repentance." He seems to have been a highway- 
 man and housebreaker, who, being condemned and pardoned, 
 dedicated an affected piece of contrition to Lord Chief Justice 
 Popham ; and on subsequent liberation, returned to his old 
 courses, and was hanged at York in 1598. Whether what follows, 
 or indeed anything that goes under his name, were really written 
 by him is very questionable. 
 
 LUKE HUTTON S LAMENTATION : WHICH HE WROTE THE DAY 
 
 BEFORE HIS DEATH, BEING CONDEMNED TO BE HANGED 
 
 AT YORKE THIS LAST ASSISES FOR HIS ROBBERIES 
 
 AND TRESPASSES COMMITTED. 
 
 TO THE TONE OP WANDERING AND WAVERING. 
 
 I AM a poore prisoner condemned to dye. 
 Ah woe is me, woe is me, for my great folly !
 
 118 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Fast fettred in yrons in place where I lie. 
 
 Be warned yong wantons, hemp passeth green holly. 
 
 My pai'ents were of good degree, 
 
 By whom I would not counselled be. 
 Lord Jesu forgive me, with mercy releeve me, 
 Receive, O sweet Saviour, my spirit unto thee. 
 
 My name is Hutton, yea Luke of bad life, 
 Ah woe is me, woe is me, for my great folly 1 
 Which on the high way did rob man and wife. 
 Be warned yong wantons, &c. 
 Inticed by many a gracelesse mate, 
 Whose counsel I repent too late. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 Not twentie yeeres old, alas, was I, 
 Ah woe is me, woe is me, &c., 
 When I begun this fellonie. 
 Be warned yong wantons, &c. 
 With me went still twelve yeomen tall. 
 Which I did my twelve Apostles call. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 There was no squire nor barron bold, 
 
 Ah woe is me, woe is me for my great folly ! 
 
 That rode the way with silver or gold, 
 Be warned yong wantons, &c. 
 
 But I and my twelve Apostles gaie 
 
 W^ould lighten their load ere they went away. 
 Lord, &c.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 119 
 
 This newes procured my kins-folkes griefe, 
 
 Ah woe is me, woe is me ! 
 They hearing I was a famous theefe, 
 
 Be warned yong wantons. 
 They wept, they wailde, they wrong their hands, 
 That thus I should hazard life and lands. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 They made me a jaylor a little before, 
 
 Ah woe, &c. 
 To keep in prison offenders store ; 
 
 Be warned, &c. 
 But such a jaylor was never none, 
 I went and let them out everie one. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 I wist their sorrow sore grieved me, 
 
 Ah woe is me, &c.. 
 Such proper men should hanged be. 
 
 Be warned yong, &c 
 My office ther I did defie. 
 And ran away for company. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 Three yeeres I lived upon the spoile. 
 
 Ah woe is me, &c. 
 Giving many a carle the foile, 
 
 Be warned yong, &c. 
 Yet never did I kil man nor wife, 
 Though lewdly long I led my life. 
 Lord, &c.
 
 120 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 But all too bad my deedes hath been, 
 
 Ah woe is me, &c. 
 Ofl'ending my country and my good queene, 
 
 Be warned yong, &c. 
 All men in Yorke-shire talke of me ; 
 A stronger theefe there could not be. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 Upon S. Lukes day was I borne, 
 
 Ah woe, &c. 
 Whom want of grace hath made a scorne, 
 
 Be war &c. 
 In honor of my birth day then, 
 I robd in a bravery nineteen men. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 The country weary to bea're this wrong, 
 
 Ah woe is me, &c. 
 With huse and cries pursude me long. 
 
 Be war &c. 
 Though long I scapt, yet loe at last, 
 London, I was in Newgate cast. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 There did I lye with a grieved minde : 
 
 Ah woe is me, &c., 
 Although the keeper was gentle and kinde, 
 
 Be warned yong, &c. 
 Yet was he not so kinde as I, 
 To let me be at libertie. 
 Lord, &c.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 121 
 
 At last the shiriffe of Yorke-shire came, 
 
 Ah woe is me, &c. 
 And in a warrant he had my name. 
 
 Be warned yong, &c. 
 Said he at Yorke thou must be tride, 
 With me therefore hence must thou ride. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 Like pangues of death his words did sound 
 
 Ah woe is me, &c. 
 My hands and armes full fast he bound. 
 
 Be warned, &c. 
 Good sir, quoth I, I had rather stay, 
 I have no heart to ride that way. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 When no entreaty might prevaile. 
 
 Ah woe is me, &c. 
 I calde for beere, for wine and ale ; 
 
 Be warned, &c. 
 And when my heart was in wofuU case, 
 I drunke to my friends with a smiling face. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 With clubs and staves I was garded then ; 
 
 Ah woe is me, &c. 
 I never before had such waiting men : 
 
 Be warned, &c. 
 If they had ridden before amaine, 
 Beshrew me if I had cald them againe. 
 Lord &c.
 
 122 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 And when into Yorke that I was come, 
 
 Ah, &c. 
 Each one on me did passe their doome : 
 
 Be war &c. 
 And whilst you live this sentence note, 
 Evill men can never have good report. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 Before the judges when I was brought, 
 
 Ah woe is me, &c. 
 Be sure I had a carefull thought. 
 
 Be &c. 
 Nine score inditements and seaventeene 
 Against me there was read and seene. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 And each of these was fellony found, 
 
 Ah woe is me, &c. 
 Which did my heart with sorrow wound. 
 
 Be &c. 
 What shouki I heerein longer stay. 
 For this I was condemned that day. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 My death each houre I do attend ; 
 
 Ah woe is me. 
 In prayer and teares my time I spend ; 
 
 Be &c. 
 And all my loving friends this day 
 I do intreate for me to pray. 
 Lord, &c.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 123 
 
 I have deserved long since to die : 
 
 Ah woe, &c. 
 A viler sinner livde not then I, 
 
 Be &c. 
 On friends I hopte ray life to save, 
 But I am fittest for my grave. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 A due my loving frauds each one : 
 
 Ah woe is me, woe is me, for my great folly ! 
 Thinke on my words when I am gone. 
 
 Be warned young wantons, &c. 
 When on the ladder you shall me view, 
 Thinke I am neerer heaven then you. 
 Lord, &c. 
 
 Finis. Hutton. 
 
 Printed at London for Thomas Millington. 1598. 
 
 THE DEATH OF THE EARL OF ESSEX. 
 
 The subsequent ballad, for obvious reasons, was not published 
 until James I. came to the throne, though it would seem from the 
 narrative that it had been written very soon after the melancholy 
 event it celebrates. It gives some new, and probably then well- 
 known, particulars regarding the Earl of Essex and his demeanour 
 before and at his execution, which are omitted by Camden and 
 other authorities. When Stowe wrote, he was afraid of enlarging 
 upon the subject, and purposely left it to the " books thereof 
 extant." Howes, in his continuation, was equally cautious, 
 although without the same reason. Margaret Allde, for whom 
 what follows was printed, was no doubt the widow of John Allde,
 
 124 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 whom Dr. Dibdin names Mary, possibly from misreading Marg. 
 in the registers of the Stationers' Company. (Typ. Ant. iv. 571.) 
 The tune of " Welladay," to which the anonymous writer adapted 
 his lines, is not mentioned, at least under that name, by Mr. W. 
 Chappell in his " National English Airs." 
 
 , LAMENTABLE DITTIE COMPOSED UPON THE DEATH OF 
 
 ROBERT LORD DEVEREUX, LATE EARLE OF ESSEX, WHO 
 
 WAS BEHEADED IN THE TOWER OF LONDON UPON 
 
 ASHWEDNESDAY IN THE MORNING. 1601. 
 
 TO THE TUNE OF WELLADAY. 
 
 Sweet Englands pride is gone, 
 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 Which makes her sigh and grone 
 
 Evermore still. 
 He did her fame advance 
 In Ireland Spaine and France, 
 And now by dismall chaunce 
 
 Is from her tane. 
 
 He was a vertuous peere, 
 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 And was esteemed deere 
 
 Evermore still. 
 He alwaies helpt the poore, 
 Which makes them sigh full sore ; 
 His death they doe deplore 
 
 In every place. 
 
 Brave honor grac'd him still 
 
 Gallantly, gallantly : 
 He nere did deede of ill, 
 
 Well is it knowne.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 125 
 
 But envie, that foule fiend 
 Whose malice ne're hath end, 
 Hath brought true vertues friend 
 Unto his thrall. 
 
 At tilt he did surpasse 
 
 Gallantly, gallantly, 
 All men that is and was 
 
 Evermore still. 
 One day, as it was seene, 
 In honor of his Queene 
 Such deeds hath ne're been seen 
 
 As he did doe. 
 
 Abroade and eke at home 
 
 Gallantly, gallantly, 
 For valour there was none 
 
 Like him before. 
 In Ireland France and Spaine 
 They feared great Essex name. 
 And England lov'd the same. 
 In every place. 
 
 But all would not prevaile, 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 
 His deedes did nought availe, 
 More was the pittie. 
 
 He was condemnd to die 
 
 For treason certainly, 
 
 But God that sits on hie 
 Knoweth all things.
 
 126 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 That Sunday in the raorne, 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 
 That he to the cittie came 
 With all his troupe: 
 
 That first began the strife, 
 
 And caused him loose his life, 
 
 And others did the like 
 As well as hee. 
 
 Yet her princely Majestie 
 Gratiously, gratiously, 
 
 Hath pardon given free 
 To many of them. 
 
 She hath released them quite, 
 
 And given them their right ; 
 
 They may pray both day and night 
 God to defend her. 
 
 Shrovetewesday in the night, 
 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 With a heavy harted spright, 
 
 As it is sayd, 
 The leiftenant of the Tower, 
 Who kept him in his power, 
 At ten a clocke, that hour, 
 To him did come. 
 
 And sayd unto him there, 
 Mournfully, mournfully, 
 
 My lord you must prepare 
 To die tomorrow.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 127 
 
 Gods will be done, quoth he, 
 Yet shall you strangely see 
 God strong in me tobe, 
 Though I am weake. 
 
 I pray you, pray for me, 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 That God may strengthen me 
 
 Against that houre. 
 Then straightway did he call 
 The guard under the wall, 
 And did intreate them all 
 For him to pray. 
 
 For to morrow is the day, 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 
 That I the debt must pay 
 Which I doe owe : 
 
 It is my life I meane, 
 
 Which I must pay my Queene, 
 
 Even so hath justice given 
 That I must doe. 
 
 In the morning was he brought, 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 
 Where a scaffold was set up 
 Within the Tower. 
 
 Many lords were present then, 
 
 With other gentlemen, 
 
 Which were appointed then 
 To see him dye.
 
 128 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 You noble lords, quoth he, 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 
 That must the witnesse be 
 Of this my death ; 
 
 Know, I never loved Papistrye, 
 
 But did it still defye. 
 
 And Essex thus did dye, 
 Heere in this place. 
 
 I have a sinner been, 
 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 Yet never wrong'd my Queene 
 
 In all my life. 
 My God I did offend, 
 Which grieves me at my end : 
 May all the rest amend, 
 I doe forgive them. 
 
 To the state I nere ment ill, 
 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 Neither wisht the Commons ill 
 
 In all my life; 
 But loved with all my heart. 
 And alwaies tooke their part 
 Whereas there was desert 
 In any place. 
 
 Then mildely did he crave, 
 Mournfully mournfully, 
 
 He might that favour have 
 Private to pray :
 
 OLD BALLADS. 129 
 
 rhen he prayed heartely, 
 And with great fervency 
 To God that sits on hie 
 For to receive him. 
 
 And then he prayed againe, 
 
 Mournefully, mournefuliy, 
 God to preserve his Queene 
 
 From all her foes ; 
 
 And send her long to raigne 
 
 True justice to maintaine, 
 
 And not to let proud Spaine 
 
 Once to offend her. 
 
 His gowne he slipt off then, 
 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 And put off his hat and band. 
 
 And hung it by ; 
 
 Praying still continually 
 
 To God that sits on hie, 
 
 That he might pacientiy 
 
 There suffer death. 
 
 My headsman that must be, 
 
 Then said he cheerfullie. 
 Let him come heere to me 
 That I may him see ; 
 Who kneeled to him then, 
 Art thou (quoth lie) the man 
 Which art appointed now 
 My life to free ?
 
 130 OLD BALLADS. 
 
 Yes, my lord, did he say, 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 
 Forgive me I you pray 
 For this your death. 
 
 1 heere doe thee forgive. 
 
 And may true justice live. 
 
 No foule crime to forgive 
 Within their place. 
 
 Then he kneeled downe againe, 
 Mournefully, mournefuUy, 
 And was required by some 
 
 There standing by. 
 To forgive his enemies 
 Before death closde his eyes, 
 Which he did in heartie wise, 
 Thanking them for it. 
 
 That thev would remember him, 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 
 That he might forgive all them 
 That had him wrong'd. 
 
 Now, my lords, I take mj' leave. 
 
 Sweet Christ my soule receive ; 
 
 Now when you wil I prepare, 
 For I am readie. 
 
 He laide his head on the blocke, 
 Welladay, welladay ! 
 
 But his doubtlet did let the stroke. 
 Some there did say.
 
 OLD BALLADS. 133 
 
 What must be done (quoth he) 
 Shall be done presently ; 
 Then his doubtlet put off hee, 
 And laye dovvne againe. 
 
 Then his headsman did his part 
 
 Cruelly, cruelly. 
 He was never seene to start 
 
 For all the blowes . 
 His soule it is at rest 
 In heaven among the blest, 
 Where God send us to rest. 
 
 When it shall please him. 
 
 God save the King. 
 
 Imprinted at London for Margret AUde, and are to be solde at tlie 
 long shop under Saiut Mildreds Church in the Poultry. 1603. 
 
 . RICIIAlms, PRINTER, ST. MARTIN S I.ANK
 
 A COLLECTION OF 
 
 SONGS AND BALLADS 
 
 RELATIVE TO THE LONDON PRENTICES 
 
 AND TRADES ; AND TO THE AFFAIRS 
 
 OF LONDON GENERALLY. 
 
 DURING THE 
 
 dTtfteentl), ^ijrtecnti), anb ^fijcntoixtl; CcnturifJi. 
 
 EDITED, 
 WITH NOTES AND INTRODDCTIONS, 
 
 BY CHARLES MAOKAY 
 
 LONDON : 
 PRINTED FOR THE PERCY SOCIETY, 
 
 BY C. RICHARDS, ST. MARTIN'S LANE. 
 
 MDCCCXLI.
 
 COUNCIL 
 
 Cf)e ^eitp ^otitt^. 
 
 J. A. CAHUSAC, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 WILLIAM CHAPPELL, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 JOHN PAYNE COLLIER, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 T. CROFTON CROKER, Esq. F.S.A. M.R.I.A. 
 
 REV. ALEXANDER DYCE. 
 
 RICHARD HALLIWELL, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL, Esq. F.R.S. Treasurer. 
 
 WILLIAM JERDAN, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 SAMUEL LOVER, Esq. 
 
 CHARLES MACKAY, Esq. 
 
 E. F. RIMBAULT, Esq. Secretary. 
 
 THOMAS WRIGHT, Esq. M.A. F.S.A.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 In offering this collection to the members of the 
 Percy Society, the Editor thinks it necessary to 
 say a few words in explanation of his departure 
 from his original intention of confining it solely 
 to Songs and Ballads relating to the London 
 Prentices and Trades during the fifteenth, six- 
 teenth, and seventeenth centuries. The London 
 Prentices were, during this period, and especially 
 towards the latter part of it, a very important 
 body; and it was thought that it would be a 
 matter of comparatively small difficulty to collect 
 a number of ballads relating to them sufficient to 
 form of themselves a volume of moderate size. 
 Upon further investigation, however, it was found 
 that the number extant was not so great as was 
 anticipated, and, of this number, some were 
 unworthy, and many more unfit on the score of 
 decency, for republication in the present day. 
 It was therefore deemed advisable to extend 
 the design of the collection, and to include, not 
 only ballads relating to the Prentices and Trades, 
 but to the public events and politics of London 
 in general. To these have been added a few
 
 that are interesting at the present time from 
 their mention of the ancient topography of this 
 daily increasing city; and the whole, it is hoped, 
 will prove acceptable to the members of the 
 Percy Society. 
 
 The Editor cannot conclude without returning 
 his thanks to various members of the Council, 
 and especially to the ever-zealous Mr. Rimbault, 
 for their valuable suggestions and other assistance 
 during the progress of his labours. 
 
 London, 
 March 'loth. 1841.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAOE 
 
 1. Epistles of John B;ill . . . . .1 
 
 2. Second Epistle of John Ball ..... 2 
 
 3. Jack Miller's Song ...... 3 
 
 4. Jack Trneman's Epistle . . . .4 
 
 5. Sir Richard Whittington's Advancement . .4 
 
 6. The Story of 111 May Day, in the time of King Henry VIII 11 
 
 7. The Honour of a London Prentice . .22 
 
 8. Upon my Lord Maior'.s Day being put off by reason of the 
 
 Plague ....... 28 
 
 9. London's Ordinary ; or, Every Man in hi.s Humour . . 31 
 
 10. George Barnwell . . . . .35 
 
 11. A Ballad ...... 51 
 
 12. The Banting Rambler . . .54 
 
 13. A True Character of Sundry Trades and Callings; or, a new 
 
 ditty of Innocent Mirth . . . . .59 
 
 14. Michaelmas Term . . . . . .63 
 
 15. A Use of Exhortation to the London Apprentices: or, a 
 
 Second Message after their Petition . . .67 
 
 16. Robin Conscience . . . . .69 
 
 17. A Dialogue betwixt Tom and Dick . . . .88 
 
 18. A Ballad in praise of London Prentices, and what they did 
 
 at the Cockpit Play-House, in Drury Lane 91 
 
 19. The Life and Death of the Two Ladies of Fin.sbury, that 
 
 gave Moorfields to the City, for the Maidens of London 
 
 to dry Cloaths . . . . .97 
 
 20. A new Song, on the Instalment of Sir John Moor Lord 
 
 Mayor of London . . . .103 
 
 21. Loyalty Triuraphant . . . . . .109 
 
 22. London's Joy and Triumph, on the Instalment of Sir A\'il]iam 
 
 Pritchard Lord Mayor of London for the ensuing year 112
 
 Vlll 
 
 23. 
 24. 
 
 26. 
 27. 
 28. 
 29. 
 30. 
 31. 
 32. 
 33. 
 34. 
 35. 
 36. 
 37. 
 38 
 39. 
 40. 
 41. 
 42. 
 43. 
 
 London's Lamentation for the Loss o: 
 A new Song, in praise of the Loyal 
 who, for their singular Loyali 
 Charter of London, 1684 . 
 Tlie Mug-Hoiise 
 
 The Conragioiis Enghsh Boys of sev 
 The Blacksmith 
 The Brewer . 
 
 The Good Fellows' Frolick; or, Kent 
 The Merry Hoastess . 
 The Merchant Tailors' Seng . 
 The Mercer's Company's Song 
 
 Freemen's Song, of Four Voices 
 
 The Scriuener's Seruant's Song of 
 A Belman's Song 
 
 The Smith's Man 
 
 The Cryer's Song of Cheapside 
 
 The Painter's Song of London 
 
 Citie Rounds . 
 
 New Broonies, — Green Broomes 
 
 The Tinker . 
 
 He that a Tinker would be 
 
 Hot Codlins . 
 
 f their Charter . 
 
 
 115 
 
 Company of Stationers, 
 
 
 ty, obtained the First 
 
 
 
 
 118 
 
 
 
 121 
 
 eral Trades and 
 
 CalUng 
 
 122 
 126 
 130 
 
 t Street Cluhb 
 
 
 134 
 
 138 
 142 
 147 
 148 
 
 lolbome . 
 
 
 150 
 
 151 
 
 152 
 
 . 152 
 
 153 
 
 . 153 
 
 . 154 
 
 . 155 
 
 . 156 
 
 . 157
 
 SONGS OF THE LONDON PRENTICES 
 AND TRADES. 
 
 EPISTLES OF JOHN BALL. 
 
 The Epistles of John Ball are taken from Stowe's Annals. John 
 Ball was a priest who was hanged and beheaded at St. Alban's, 
 on the 15th of July, 1381, for his participation in the rebellion 
 of Wat Tyler. He was author of that famous couplet — 
 
 " When Adam delved and Eve span, 
 Who was then the gentleman?" 
 
 And, according to Stowe, used to commence his sermons with it, 
 when he wished to stir up the people. He confessed, at the place 
 of execution, that he wrote these Epistles — half prose and half 
 verse — and distributed copies of them among the populace. 
 Stowe says they are full of ridtUes and dark sentences ; and 
 many of the allusions are now unintelligible. The following 
 was taken from the pockets of a man, who was captured after 
 the riots of London, and sentenced to be hanged. 
 
 John Shepe, sometime Saint Mary priest, of York, 
 and now of Colchester, greeteth well John Namelesse, 
 and Johii Miller, and John Carter, and biddeth them 
 that they beware of GUlinhrough, and standeth togethei* 
 in God's name; and biddeth Pierce Plowman goc to his 
 work, and chastise well Hob the Eohher, and take with 
 liim John Trneman, and all hi.s fellowes, and no moe. 
 
 B
 
 SONGS OF THE 
 
 John the Miller hath yground small, small, 
 The king's son of heaven shall pay foi" all, 
 Beware or be ye wo ! 
 Know jour friend from your foe. 
 Haveth ynough and saith hoe! 
 And doe well and better and fleeth sinne. 
 And seeketh peace and holde therein ! 
 And so biddeth John Trueman and aU his fellows 
 
 SECOND EPISTLE OF JOHN BALL. 
 
 Stowe says he had seen several other Epistles of John Ball, but 
 has only preserved the following. 
 
 John Bai,i., Saint Mary priest, 
 
 Greeteth well all manner of men, 
 
 And biddeth them in name of the Trinitie, 
 
 Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
 
 Stand manlike together in truth. 
 
 And helpe truth, and truth shall hel^j you. 
 
 Now reigneth pride in price, 
 
 Couetise is holden wise, 
 
 Lechery without shame, 
 
 Gluttonie without blame. 
 
 Enuie raigneth with reason. 
 
 And sloth is taken in great season, 
 
 God do boote, for now is time, Amen.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 
 
 JACK MILLER'S SONG. 
 
 Jack Miller was an important personage in these riots, but 
 the old chroniclers give no information of his fate. It is probable, 
 however, that he suffered execution about the same time as Wat 
 Tyler, John Ball, Jack Straw, and the other leaders of the 
 rebellion. Fifteen of them were beheaded with John Ball, at 
 St. Alban's, and more than double that number at London. The 
 following verses are printed in Stowe's Annals as if they were 
 prose, and have thus doubtless escaped the observation of those 
 who are curious in old poetry. 
 
 Jack Miller asketh helpe to turn his Mill aright, 
 
 He hath ground small, small, 
 
 The king's son of heauen shall pay for all ; 
 
 Looke thy Mill goe right, 
 
 With four sails, and the post; 
 
 Stand in stedfastnes. 
 
 With right and might. 
 
 With skill and will. 
 
 Let might helpe right. 
 
 And skill before will, 
 
 And right before might, 
 
 Then goeth our ]\Iill aright. 
 
 But if might 
 
 Goe before right. 
 
 And will 
 
 Before skill. 
 
 Then is our Mill misdight. 
 
 b2
 
 SOXfiS OF THE 
 
 JACK TRUEMAN'S EPISTLE. 
 
 This is also taken from Stowe, and was popular at the same 
 period as the foregoing. Jack Trueman is more than once 
 alluded to in the first Epistle of John Ball. The name of John 
 Bathon, which occurs in this, is not mentioned by any of the 
 historians of Wat Tyler's rebellion. 
 
 Jacke Trewman cloeth you to vnderstond 
 
 That falsenesse and guile liath raigiied too long ; 
 
 And truth hath been set vnder a locke, 
 
 And falsenesse raigneth in every flocke, 
 
 No man may come truth to, 
 
 But he sing, si dedero; [and therefore, 
 
 Speake, spend and speed, quoth John of Bathon, 
 
 Sinne fareth as wilde flood. 
 
 True love is away that is so good, 
 
 And clarkes for wealth wirketh them wo — 
 
 God doe boote for now is time, Amen. 
 
 SIR RICHARD WHITTINGTON'S ADVANCEMENT; 
 
 BEING AN HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF HIS EDICATION, 
 UNEXPECTED FORTUNE, CHARITY, ETC. 
 
 To the Tune of " Dainty, come thou to me." 
 
 The following is taken from the third edition of a " Collection of 
 old Ballads, corrected from the best and most ancient Coi^ies, 
 with Introductions, historical, critical, and humorous. London, 
 Printed for J. Roberts, in Warwick Lane ; D. Leach, in Black and 
 White Court, in the Old Bailey ; and J. Batteley, at the Dove, 
 in Paternoster Row. 1727." It has also been collated with 
 another copy of the same ballad, entitled " A song of Richard 
 Whittington, who by strange Fortunes came to be thrice Lord 
 Mayor of London, with his bountiful Gifts and Liberality, given
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. O 
 
 to this honourable City ;" which is to be found in the " Crown 
 Garland of Golden Hoses, gathered out of England's Royal 
 Garden, set forth in many pleasant new Songs and Sonnets, &c. 
 by R. Johnson. London, printed by J. M. for W. F. Thackeray, 
 at the Sign of the " Angel," in Duck Lane, near West Smith- 
 field, 1692." The two concluding stanzas do not appear in the 
 collection of 1727. The story of Sir Richard Whittington, 
 and the marvellous advancement of his fortune by means of 
 his cat, has long been popular in England ; but there appears 
 to be no other authority for it than tradition. The wealth and 
 benevolence of Sir Richard are however beyond doubt. This 
 worthy citizen was, as the ballad repeats, thrice Lord Mayor of 
 London, — the first time in 1396, the second in 1404, and the 
 third in 1419. From Sir Richard's will, it appears that his ex- 
 traction was not so humble as the old legends represent it, but 
 that he was the son of a knight — Sir William Whittington and 
 Dame Joan his wife. The various good works he performed, and 
 the charities he endowed, are correctly enumerated in the ballad. 
 Grafton, in his Chronicle, relates an anecdote of the knight, 
 which is not elsewhere recorded. In a codicil to his will, he 
 commanded his executors, as they should one day answer before 
 God, to look diKgently over the list of the persons indebted to 
 him, and if they found any who was not clearly possessed of 
 three times as much as would fully satisfy all the claim, they 
 were freely to forgive it. He also added, that no man whatever 
 should be imprisoned for any debt due to his estate. "Look 
 upon this, ye aldermen," says the historian emphatically, " for it 
 is a glorious glass !" 
 
 Here must I tell the praise 
 Of worthy Whittington, 
 
 Known to be in his days 
 
 Thrice Lord Mayor of London. 
 
 But of poor Parentage 
 Born was he, as we hear, 
 
 And in his tender Age 
 Bred up in Lancashire,
 
 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Poorly to London then 
 Came up this simple lad; 
 
 Wliere, with a Merchant-man 
 Soon he a dwelling had; 
 
 And in a kitchen plac'd, 
 A scullion for to be; 
 
 Where a long time he pass'd 
 In labour drudginly. 
 
 His daily service was 
 
 Turning at the fire; 
 And to scour pots of brass, 
 
 For a poor scullion's hire; 
 
 Meat and Drink all his Pay, 
 Of coin he had no store; 
 
 Therefore to run away 
 
 In secret, thought he bore. 
 
 So from the merchant-man 
 Whittington secretely 
 
 Towards his country ran 
 To pm'chase liberty. 
 
 But as he went along, 
 In a fair summer's morn, 
 
 London's bells sweetly rung 
 Whittington's back return; 
 
 Evermore sounding so, 
 
 Turn again, Whittington;
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 
 
 For thou, in time, shall grow 
 Lord Mayor of London. 
 
 Whereupon back again 
 
 Wliittington came with speed, 
 A prentice to remain, 
 
 As the Lord had decreed. 
 
 Still blessed be the bells. 
 This was his daily song; 
 
 This my good fortune tells, 
 Most sweetly have they rung. 
 
 If God so favour me, 
 I wiU not prove unkind; 
 
 London my love shall see. 
 And my large bounties find. 
 
 But, see this happy chance! 
 
 This scullion had a Cat, 
 Wliich did his state advance. 
 
 And by it wealth he gat. 
 
 His master ventur'd forth. 
 
 To a land far unknown. 
 With merchandize of Worth, 
 
 As is in Stories shown: 
 
 Whittington had no more 
 But this poor Cat as then, 
 
 Which to the sliip lie bore, 
 Like a brave valiant man:
 
 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Vent'ring the same, quoth he, 
 I may get store of gold, 
 
 And Mayor of London be, 
 As the Bells have me told. 
 
 WTiittington's merchandise 
 
 Carried to a land 
 Troubled with rats and mice, 
 
 As they did understand; 
 
 The King of the country there 
 
 As he at dinner sat, 
 Daily remained in fear 
 
 Of many a mouse and rat. 
 
 Meat that on trenchers lay, 
 No way they could keep safe; 
 
 But by rats bore away, 
 Fearing no wand or staff ; 
 
 Whereupon soon they brought 
 Whittington's nimble cat; 
 
 \Vliich by the King was bought ; 
 Heaps of gold giv'n for that. 
 
 Home again came these men 
 With their ship laden so, 
 
 Whittington's wealth began 
 By this cat thus to grow: 
 
 Scullions life he forsook, 
 To be a merchant good,
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 
 
 And soon began to look 
 How well his Credit stood. 
 
 After that he was chose 
 Sheriff of the City here, 
 
 And then full quickly rose 
 Higher as did appear; 
 
 For, to this City's praise, 
 Sir Richard Whittington 
 
 Came to be in his days 
 Thrice Mayor of London. 
 
 More his fame to advance, 
 Thousands he lent the King, 
 
 To maintain war in F'rance, 
 Glory from thence to bring. 
 
 And after, at a feast 
 
 "VVTiich he the King did make. 
 He burnt the bonds all in jest. 
 
 And would no money take. 
 
 Ten thousand pounds he gave 
 To his Prince willingly; 
 
 And would no penny have 
 For this kind courtesy. 
 
 As God thus made him great. 
 
 So he would daily see 
 Poor people fed with meat, 
 
 To shew his charity:
 
 10 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Prisoners poor cherish'd were, 
 Widows sweet comfort found: 
 
 Good deeds, both far and near 
 Of him do still resound. 
 
 Whittington's College is 
 One of his charities ; 
 
 Record reporteth this, 
 To lasting memories. 
 
 Newgate he builded fair, 
 For prisoners to lye in; 
 
 Christ Church he did repair, 
 Christian love for to win. 
 
 Many more such like deeds 
 Were done by Wliittington ; 
 
 Wliich joy and comfort breeds. 
 To such as look thereon. 
 
 Lancashire, thou hast bred 
 This flower of charity. 
 
 Though he be dead and gone, 
 Yet lives he lastingly. 
 
 Those bells that called him so: 
 " Turn again Wliittington," 
 
 Call you him back no more. 
 To live so in London.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 11 
 
 THE STORY OF ILL MAY DAY, IN THE TIME 
 OF KING HENRY THE EIGHTH, 
 
 AND WHY IT WAS SO CALLED: AND HOW QUEEN CATHARINE 
 
 BEGGED THE LIVES OF TWO THOUSAND 
 
 LONDON APPRENTICES. 
 
 To the Tune of " Essex's good night." 
 
 From the same collection as the preceding ballad. The story 
 of Evil May Day is one of great note in the annals of London, 
 and is one in which the apprentices played a chief but unhappy 
 part. The events which gave rise to this calamitous occurrence 
 happened in the early part of 1517 ; and the first outbi'eak was 
 on May-day of the same year. The story, as related in the ballad, 
 is very much exaggerated. The following more correct account 
 of it is taken from Mackay's " History of London," p. 203 to 212. 
 
 " The first of May, 1517, is a remarkable da}' in the annals of 
 London, and has been called Evil May day, on account of the 
 calamities which it occasioned. For some time pre^dous there 
 had existed a growing jealousy in the city towards the foreigners 
 and non-freemen who were permitted to exercise their craft 
 within the walls, to the detriment of the freemen, whose profits 
 were in consequence much reduced. One John Lincoln, a broker, 
 was loud in his complaints, and made himself very conspicuous 
 in his enmity to the foreign artisans. He had infiuence enough 
 with a popular preacher, named Bell, to induce him to make 
 allusions in his sermons to the injustice of suffering these 
 foreigners to take the bread out of the mouths of native-born 
 Englishmen. The preacher entered into the cause with so much 
 zeal, and expatiated with so much eloquence on the hardshijjs of 
 the oppressed freemen, that the whole city was in a ferment. 
 This was about the middle of April ; and day after day it was 
 whispered abroad, among the people, that on May-day some 
 dreadftd event would take place. It was impossible to trace this 
 dark and menacing rumour to its source — nobody knew what 
 was to happen, but every one was prepared for something extra- 
 ordinary. 
 
 " While the popular mind was in this state of excitement, the 
 young men of the city insulted and abused every foreigner tliey 
 passed. Three young men, named Studley, Stevenson, and
 
 12 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Betts, made themselves particularly conspicuous ; and having, on 
 the 28th of April, met five or six foreign traders in Cheapside, 
 they abused and beat them in so shamefid a manner, that the 
 lord mayor deemed it necessary to interfere, and sent out a strong 
 party of the city-watch to capture the offenders, who were im- 
 mediately conveyed, bound hand and foot, to the Compter. 
 
 " The indignation of the people against the foreigners now 
 began to assume a more threatening complexion, and the vague 
 rumours of the preceding fortnight hourly acquired a fearful con- 
 sistency ; and it was openly asserted, that on May-day evening every 
 foreigner in London would be put to the sword. This rumour 
 having reached the ears of Cardinal Wolsey, he sent in all haste 
 for the lord mayor, the sheriffs, and the principal aldermen, and 
 told them what he had heard, and that he should hold them 
 responsible for the tranquillity of the city. This was on the 
 30th of April, or May-day eve ; and as soon as the lord mayor 
 was dismissed from the presence of the cardinal, he returned to 
 the city, and immediately summoned a common-hall, to adopt 
 such measures as should appear advisable for the preservation of 
 the peace. The Guildhall was in less than an hour crowded by 
 the aldermen and common councilmen, all filled with the most 
 intense anxiety as to the fearful rumours that were abroad. 
 
 " After a long debate, it was agreed that orders should be im- 
 mediately issued to every householder in the city, calling upon 
 him to shut up his house, and keep his children, apprentices, and 
 servants, strictly within doors, from nine o'clock that night until 
 nine on the following morning. It was nearly eight o'clock 
 before they agreed to this resolution, and it was necessary that 
 they should acquaint Cardinal Wolsey of what they had resolved, 
 as they could do nothing without his approbation. The recorder 
 was, in consequence, charged to proceed with the utmost haste 
 to Westminster, and inform the cardinal. The latter signified 
 his approval of this precautionary measure, and the recorder 
 rode back again into the city, where he an-ived at half-past eight. 
 There now remained but the short space of half an hour to pro- 
 claim this order in ever}' part of the city ; the consequence was, 
 that the clock struck nine before the proclamation had been read 
 in more than two or three places. 
 
 " An unfortunate, and certainly unpremeditated circumstance, 
 rendered all these precautions vain, and let loose the flood of
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. IS 
 
 angry passions. Alderman Sir John Mundie, having just left the 
 common-hall, was passing through the Cheap, on his way home, 
 \vhen he saw two apprentices playing at buckler in the middle 
 of the street. It was a few minutes past nine o'clock ; and, 
 A\ ithout staying to inquire whether the order had yet been pub- 
 lished in that quarter, he threatened to send the two young- 
 men to the Compter. The over-zealous alderman met with an 
 insolent answer from the youths, who had no idea of leaving off 
 their sport ; and this having roused his ire, he seized hold of 
 one of them, with the intention of dragging him off to prison. 
 This unfortunate act was the signal for the commencement of 
 the riot. Several other apprentices, who were looking on, no 
 sooner saw this violence offered to their companion, than they 
 raised the customary cry of ' Prentices ! prentices ! — Clubs ! 
 clubs !' In less than a minute the shout was responded to by a 
 boisterous crowd of the young men of the city, armed with clubs, 
 bills, staves, and weapons of every description. They rescued 
 the apprentice from the grasp of the alderman, who had great 
 difiicidty in escaping with his life from the hands of his enraged 
 assailants. 
 
 " The riot had now begun in earnest, and the apprentices were 
 joined by upwards of seven lumdred watermen, porters, and idle 
 fellows, from all parts of the city. Another mob, with a similar 
 purpose, collected about the same time in St. Paul's Churchyard, 
 and the two having eftected a junction, and being increased every 
 minute by fresh bands of riotous apprentices from all parts of 
 the town, commenced the work of destruction. Their first ob- 
 ject was the release of Stevenson, Studley, and Betts, who had 
 been committed to Newgate two days before, and they proceeded 
 in that direction, bearing down all opposition, till they arrived 
 at the gates of the prison. The gaolers were summoned to 
 deliver up their captives ; and, this being refused, the mob in- 
 stantly broke open the doors, and brought them out in triumph. 
 
 " Their next feat was to force open the Compter, set all the 
 prisoners loose, and then plunder the building, of which they left 
 nothing but the bare walls standing. Having thus recruited 
 their ranks by the addition of men who were not likely to be 
 vei-y scrupulous as to what they attempted, they rushed on, hal- 
 looing and shouting, to Leadenhall Street, where several of the 
 foreigners resided, pillaging a house in St. Martin's-le-Grand in
 
 14 SONGS OF THE 
 
 their way, because somebody from a window had cried out 
 ' Down with the 'prentices ! down with the rioters !' The 
 strangers, who had heard, in common with every other inhabitant 
 of the city, the dark and sinister rumours of the preceding week, 
 liad taken care of their own safety, and transported themselves 
 and families to places of security, without the walls — to Islington, 
 Hackney, and other villages. The mob, thus baulked of their 
 victims, vented their rage upon their dwellings, and pillaged 
 every house where foreign traders or artisans, non-freemen, were 
 known to reside, levelUng to the ground such of them as were not 
 strong enough to resist their furious onset. This scene of plunder 
 and confusion continued without intermission until three o'clock in 
 the morning, when the rioters, exhausted with their own violence, 
 separated gradually, and returned to their homes. 
 
 " In the meantime the government had not been idle, and Car- 
 dinal Wolsey, on the first intimation of the real state of affairs 
 in the city, had dispatched a message, with orders to the lieu- 
 tenant of the Tower to commence a discharge of artillery upon 
 the city. Several shots were fired, but as they only damaged 
 the houses, vdthout producing the sUghtest effect upon the mob, 
 the assault from this qviarter was discontinued, and the Earls of 
 Shrewsbury and Surrey were ordered to enter the city at the 
 head of a strong body of troops. They did not, however, effect 
 an entrance, imtil the rioters had begim to disperse of their own 
 accord, when they aided the Lord Mayor in capturing nearly 
 three hundred of the most violent, including some women, who 
 had excited the rest. 
 
 "Next morning one of the aldermen recalled to mind the 
 seditious sermons of Dr. Bell, and orders were immediately 
 given for his apprehension, and that of John Lincohi, the broker, 
 who had originally prevailed upon him to preach to the people 
 as he had done. They were both sent to the Towei*, and the 
 following day was fixed for their trial, along with the other 
 rioters. The trial, owing to the great number of prisoners, was 
 afterwards fixed for the fourth of May, when the Duke of Nor- 
 folk and the Earl of Surrey were sent, on the part of the king, 
 to aid the lord mayor. The former entered the city with a force 
 of upwards of one thousand men, under whose escort the whole 
 of the prisoners were led at once through the streets from New- 
 gate to the Guildhall. The court was set, and John Lincoln,
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 15 
 
 Betts, Studley, and ten others, were found guilty, and ordered to 
 be taken next day to the place of execution, and to be hanged, 
 drawn, and quartered. The remaining rioters, whose trial had 
 not been proceeded with, were remanded to prison until a future 
 day. 
 
 " The king's commissioners were determined on this occasion 
 to strike terror, and orders were given that ten gallows should 
 be erected during the night in different parts of the city. One 
 was placed before Newgate, another at the Compter, and the 
 remaining eight at Aldgate, Bishopsgate, St. Martin's-le-Grand, 
 Mark Lane, Leadenhall Street, Gracechurch Street, Aldersgate 
 Street, and Smithfield. Early in the morning the thirteen un- 
 fortunate men were brought to the place of execution ; and John 
 Lincoln, in the presence of a large body of soldiers to keep the 
 crowd in awe, was first hanged. 
 
 " The spectators were remarkably silent, and looked upon each 
 other with lowering eyes, to think of the undue severity which 
 was about to deprive so many men of Ufe — for a rumour was 
 spread abroad that every one of the three hundred would surely 
 be hanged. The luckless companions of Lincoln, having been 
 forced to behold his death-struggles for a time, were then led off 
 to other quarters of the city, with the ropes about their necks, 
 followed by the array of the soldiery, and the immense but silent 
 mob. They had just arrived at the next gallows, when a horse- 
 man, covered with dust, rode rapidly through the mass, which 
 opened for him as he came. Every eye was turned towards him — 
 a fearful stillness reigned, and the multitude almost held its 
 breath, in anxiety to discover the message of the hard-riding 
 horseman. Wiping the perspiration from his forehead with one 
 hand, he presented a document to the sheriffs with the other. 
 It was a reprieve for the remaining culprits. An overpowering 
 shout of ' God save the King' resounded through the air as soon 
 as the multitude were made acquainted with it, and the pi'isoners 
 were then led back to Newgate. 
 
 " This act of grace was not a pardon, but only a reprieve till 
 the king's pleasui'e should be known, and the lord mayor and 
 aldermen, who had heard that the king was highly incensed with 
 them, resolved to wait upon Henry, who was then at Greenwich, 
 and exculpate themselves from all blame. The king did not 
 receive them so graciously as they had expected ; but told them
 
 16 SONGS OF THE 
 
 in angry terms, that such men as they ought not to be entrusted 
 with the government of a great city ; — that they had been gtiilty 
 of gross negligence at the very least, and for all that he yet kneiv 
 to the contrary, might have connived at the riot, for their own 
 dishonest purposes. With this he dismissed them, adding that 
 if he had anything further to communicate to them iipon the 
 matter, they should hear it from the mouth of the Lord Chan- 
 cellor Wolsey. 
 
 " The lord maj'or and his fellows left the royal presence in no 
 enviable frame of mind, and remained for two days in a state of 
 anxiety as to the ultimate intentions of the king. At the end of 
 that time a note was received from Cardinal Wolsey, to the effect 
 that they should present themselves with befitting himiility, and 
 with the whole of their prisoners, before the king, at Westmin- 
 ster Hall, on the 22nd of May. Accordingly, the lord mayor, 
 the recorder, the sheriffs, and many of the aldermen and mem- 
 bers of the common-council appeared before the king. They 
 were all dressed in mourning robes, in token of contrition for 
 their negligence. The king sate on the throne at the upper end 
 of Westminster Hall, surrounded by Cardinal Wolsey, the Dukes 
 of Norfolk and Suffolk, the Earls of Surrey, Shrewsbury and 
 Essex, and others of the principal officers of state. After the 
 lord mayor and the other city-functionaries had made their 
 obeisance to the king, orders were issued for the introduction of 
 the prisoners, who, to the number of two hundred and seventy- 
 eight, including eleven women, were marched into the hall, tied 
 together in couples, dressed only in their long shirts, and with 
 halters about their necks. 
 
 " The Lord Chancellor Wolsey then addressed the magistrates 
 in the king's name, and rebuked them in severe terms for their 
 negligence in not talcing proper precautions to preserve the peace 
 of the city, and the lives and property of strangers who had 
 taken up their abode within their walls in the fullest reUance 
 that they would be protected by the right feeling of the magis- 
 tracy, as well as by the law. The lord mayor and his company 
 bowed their heads in submission, and made no reply. Cardinal 
 Wolsey then turned from them to the long array of unfortunate 
 prisoners, and asked them what they could plead in extenuation 
 of their offence, and wherefore they should not one and all be 
 sentenced to death? The degraded and miserable ti-im of the
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 17 
 
 culprits, and the sobs and cries for mercy by which alone they 
 answered the interrogatory of the chancellor, somewhat softened 
 the heart of Henry ; some of the nobility present even shed 
 tears, and implored the king to pardon the unhappy culprits. 
 After a little solicitation, Henry allowed himself to be persuaded, 
 and ha\'ing listened to a severe admonition from the cardinal as 
 to their future conduct, they were ordered to be discharged. 
 The same night the ten gallows, the shame and dread of the 
 city, were removed amid the general rejoicings of the inhabit- 
 ants, upon whose mind the clemency of the king produced a 
 more salutary effect than all the rigour he could have employed," 
 
 Peruse the stories of this land, 
 
 And with advisement mark the same, 
 And you shall justly understand 
 
 How El May-Day first got the name. 
 For when King Henry th' Eighth did reign. 
 
 And rul'd our famous kingdom here. 
 His royal queen he had from Spain, 
 
 With whom he liv'd full many a year. 
 
 Queen Catharine nam'd, as stories tell, 
 
 Sometime his elder brother's wife ; 
 By which unlawful marriage fell 
 
 An endless trouble during life. 
 But such kind love he still conceiv'd 
 
 Of his fair queen, and of her friends, 
 ^Vliich being by Spain and France perceiv'd, 
 
 Their journey's fast for England's bends. 
 
 And with good leave were suffered 
 Within our kingdom here to stay : 
 
 c
 
 18 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Which multitude made victuals dear, 
 And all things else from day to day. 
 
 For strangers then did so increase, 
 By reason of King Henry's queen, 
 
 And privileg'd in many a place 
 To dwell, as was in London seen. 
 
 Poor tradesmen had small dealing then, 
 
 And who but strangers bore the bell ? 
 Which was a grief to English-men, 
 
 To see them here in London dwell : 
 Wherefore (God wot) upon May Eve, 
 
 As prentices on Maying went. 
 Who made the magistrates believe 
 
 At all to have no other intent. 
 
 But such a May-game it was known. 
 
 As like in London never were ; 
 For by the same fuU many a one, 
 
 With loss of life did pay fuU dear : 
 For thousands came with Bilboe blade, 
 
 As with an army they would meet. 
 And such a bloody slaughter made 
 
 Of foreign strangers in the street. 
 
 That all the channels ran with blood. 
 In every street where they remain'd ; 
 
 Yea, every one in danger stood. 
 That any of their part maintain'd ;
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 1 9 
 
 The rich, the poor, the okl, the young. 
 Beyond the seas tho' born and bred, 
 
 By prentices they suffer'd wrong, 
 
 When armed thus they gather'd head. 
 
 Such multitudes together went, 
 
 No warlike troops could them withstand. 
 Nor yet by policy them prevent, 
 
 What they by force thus took in hand: 
 TiU at the last King Henry's power 
 
 This multitude encompass'd round. 
 There with the strength of London's Tower 
 
 They were by force suppress'd and bound. 
 
 And hundi-eds hang'd by martial law, 
 
 On sign posts at their masters' doors, 
 By which the rest were kept in awe, 
 
 And frighted from such loud uproars; 
 And others which the fact repented, 
 
 (Two thousand 'prentices at least) 
 Were aU unto the King presented, 
 
 As mayor and magistrates thought best. 
 
 With two and two together tied. 
 
 Through Temple-Bar and Strand they go, 
 To Westminster there to be tried. 
 
 With ropes about their necks also: 
 But such a cry in every street. 
 
 Till then was never heard or known. 
 By mothers for their childi'en sweet, 
 
 Unhappily thus overtlu-own. c 2
 
 20 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Whose bitter moans and sad laments, 
 
 Possess'd the court with trembling fear; 
 Whereat the queen herself relents, 
 
 Tho' it coneern'd her country dear; 
 AYliat if (quoth she) by Spanish blood 
 
 Have London's stately streets been Avet, 
 Yet will I seek this country's good. 
 
 And paixlon for these yoimg men get. 
 
 Or else the world will speak of me, 
 
 And say Queen Catharine was unkind, 
 And judge me still the cause to be 
 
 These young men did their fortunes find. 
 And so disrob'd from rich attires, 
 
 AVith hau's hang'd down, she sadly hies, 
 And of her gracious lord requires 
 
 A boon, which hardly he denies. 
 
 The lives (quoth she) of all the blooms 
 
 Yet budding green, these youths, I crave; 
 O let them not have timeless tombs. 
 
 For nature longer limits gave: 
 In saying so, the pearled teai's 
 
 Fell trickling from her princely eyes; 
 Whereat his gentle Queen he cheers, 
 
 And says, stand up, sweet lady, rise. 
 
 The lives of them I freely give. 
 No means this kindness shall debar;
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 21 
 
 Thou hast thy boon, and they may live 
 
 To sei've me in my BuUen* war. 
 No sooner was this pardon given, 
 
 But peals of joy rung thi'ough the hall, 
 As tho' it thunder'd down from heaven 
 
 The Queen's renown amongst theiii all. 
 
 For which (kind Queen), with joytiu heart. 
 
 She gave to them both thanks and praise,' 
 And so from them did gently part, 
 
 And liv'd beloved all her days : 
 And when King Henry stood in need 
 
 Of trusty soldiers at command. 
 These prentices prov'd men indeed. 
 
 And fear'd no force of warlike band. 
 
 For at the siege of Tours, in France, 
 
 They shew'd themselves brave Englishmen ; 
 At Bullen, too, they did advance 
 
 St. George's lusty standard then : 
 Let Tourine, Tournay, and those towns 
 
 That good King Henry nobly won, 
 Tell London's prentices' renowns. 
 
 And of the deeds by them there done. 
 
 For HI May-Day and 111 May-games, 
 Perform'd in young and tender days, ^ 
 
 * Boulo'cnt'.
 
 22 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Can be no liindrance to their fames, 
 Or stains of" manhood any ways : 
 
 And now it is ordain 'd by law 
 
 We see on May-Day's eve at night, 
 
 To keep unruly youths in awe, 
 
 By London's watch in ai'mour bright. 
 
 Still to prevent the like misdeed, 
 
 Which once thro' headstrong young men came 
 And that 's the cause that I do read 
 
 May-Day hath got so ill a name. 
 
 THE HONOUR OF A LONDON PRENTICE : 
 
 BEING AN ACCOUNT OF HIS MATCHLESS MANHOOD AND BRAVE 
 
 ADVENTURES DONE IN TURKEY, AND BV WHAT MEANS 
 
 HE MARRIED THE KING's DAUGHTER, ETC. 
 
 To the Tune of " All you that love good fellows," &.c. 
 
 The tune of this ballad is to be found in Sir. Chappell's " Collection 
 of National English Airs." The editor of the " Collection of 
 Old Ballads, corrected from the most Ancient Copies Extant, 
 with Introductions, Historical, Critical, or Humorous, London, 
 1727," says this ballad relates " to a noble piece of chivahy per- 
 formed in Queen Elizabeth's day, but I must acknowledge myself 
 so ignorant that I cannot yet discover who this famous prentice 
 was, nor yet any particular accoimt of the fact." The only 
 celebrated apprentice in Queen Elizabeth's time, and who from 
 his after renown was of impoi*tance enough to have given occa- 
 sion to popidar ballads, was Edward Osborn, apprentice to Sir 
 William Hewitt, Lord Mayor of London, and cloth-worker, on 
 London Bridge. Osborn, while at work, saw his master's
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 28 
 
 daughter, then an infant, fall from the arms of a servant, who 
 was standing at the window, into the Thames. He instantly 
 sprang out of the window, and brought the child safely to the 
 shore. As she grew up to womanhood she bestowed her love 
 upon the apprentice, and afterwards mai-ried him, although the 
 Earl of Shrewsbury was a suitor for her hand. Osborn himself 
 became Lord Mayor of London, and was the founder of the 
 present ducal family of Leeds. It is stated in the histories of 
 London, that Osborn performed many valiant deeds, and was 
 quite a popular hero in his day. It does not however appear 
 that the present ballad, which is evidently fabulous, has any re- 
 ference to him, — the only allusions tending to warrant the sup- 
 position being, that both were from Cheshire and apprenticed to 
 masters who resided on London Bridge. There is a black-letter 
 copy of this ballad in the collection in three voliunes, folio, under 
 the press-mark 643m, in the British Museum, of which the fol- 
 lowing is a transcript. 
 
 Of a worthy London prentice 
 
 my purpose is to speak, 
 And tell his brave adventures 
 
 done for liis country's sake ; 
 Seek all the world about, 
 
 and you shall hardly find 
 A man in valour to exceed 
 
 a prentice gallant mind. 
 
 He was born in Cheshire, 
 
 The chief of men was he, 
 From thence brought up to London 
 
 a prentice-boy to be. 
 A merchant on the bridge 
 
 did like his service so, 
 That for three years his factor 
 
 to Turkey he should go.
 
 24 SONGS OF THE 
 
 And in that famous country 
 
 a year he had not been, 
 Ere he by tilt maintained 
 
 the honour of his queen : 
 Elizabeth the princess 
 
 he nobly did make known, 
 To be the Phenix of the world, 
 
 And none but she alone. 
 
 In armour richly gilded, 
 
 well-mounted on a steed, 
 One score of knights most hardy, 
 
 one day he made to bleed : 
 And brought them all to ground, 
 
 who proudly did deny 
 Elizabeth to be the pearl 
 
 of princely majesty. 
 
 The king of that same country 
 
 thereat began to frown. 
 And will'd his son, there present 
 
 to pull this youngster down ; 
 Who at his father's words 
 
 these boasting speeches said : 
 " Thou art a traytor, English boy, 
 
 and hast the traytor plaid." 
 
 " I am no boy nor traytor, 
 
 thy speeches I defie. 
 For which I'll be revenged 
 
 upon thee by and by :
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES, 25 
 
 A London prentice still 
 
 shall prove as good a man 
 As any of your Turkish knights, 
 
 do all the best you can." 
 
 And there withal he gave him 
 
 a box upon the ear, 
 Which broke his neck asunder, 
 
 as plainly doth appear. 
 " Now know, proud Turk," quoth he, 
 
 " I am no English boy. 
 That can with one small box o' th' ear 
 
 the prince of Turks destroy." 
 
 When the as king perceived 
 
 his son so strangely slain, 
 His soul was sore afflicted 
 
 with more than mortal pain : 
 And in revenge thereof, 
 
 he swore that he should dye 
 The cruel'st death that ever man 
 
 beheld with mortal eye. 
 
 Two lyons were prepared 
 
 this prentice to devour, 
 Near famish'd-up with hunger 
 
 ten days within the tower, , 
 To make them far more fierce 
 
 and eager of their pray. 
 To glut themselves with human gore, 
 
 upon this dreadful day.
 
 26 THE SONGS OF 
 
 The appointed time of torment 
 
 at length grew near at hand, 
 Wliere all the noble ladies 
 
 and barons of the land, 
 Attended on the king, 
 
 to see this prentice slain. 
 And buried in the hungry maws 
 
 of these fierce lyons twain. 
 
 Then in his shirt of cambrick, 
 
 with silk most richly wrought. 
 This worthy London prentice 
 
 was from the prison brought. 
 And to the lyons given 
 
 to stanch their hunger great. 
 Which had not eat in ten days' space 
 
 not one small bit of meat. 
 
 But God, that knows all secrets, 
 
 the matter so contriv'd, 
 That by this young man's valoui- 
 
 they were of life depriv'd; 
 For being faint for food, 
 
 they scarcely could withstand 
 The noble force and fortitude 
 
 and courage of his hand: 
 
 For when the hungry lyons 
 had cast him in their eyes, 
 
 The elements did thunder 
 with the eccho of their cries;
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 27 
 
 And running all amain 
 
 his body to devour, 
 Into their throats he thrust his anns, 
 
 with all his might and power; 
 
 From thence by manly valour 
 
 their hearts he tore in sunder, 
 And at the king he threw them, 
 
 to all the people's wonder. 
 " This have I done," quoth he, 
 
 " for lovely England's sake, 
 And for my country's maiden queen 
 
 much more will undertake." 
 
 But when the king perceived 
 
 his wrothful lyons' hearts, 
 Afflicted with great terrour, 
 
 his rigor soon reverst: 
 And turned all his hate 
 
 into remorse and love, 
 And said : " It is some angel 
 
 sent down from heaven above." 
 
 " No, no, I am no angel," 
 
 the courteous young man said, 
 " But born in famous England, 
 
 where God's word is obey'd : 
 Assisted by the heavens, 
 
 who did me thus befriend. 
 Or else they had most cruelly 
 
 brought here my life to end."
 
 28 SONGS OF THE 
 
 The king in heart amazed, 
 
 lift up his eyes to heaven, 
 And for his foul offences 
 
 did crave to be forgiven; 
 Believing that no land 
 
 like England may be seen, 
 No people better governed 
 
 by vertue of a queen. 
 
 So taking up this young man, 
 
 he pardon 'd him his life, 
 And gave his daughter to him 
 
 to be his wedded wife; 
 Where then they did remain, 
 
 and live in quiet peace, 
 In spending of their happy days 
 
 in joy and love's encrease. 
 
 London : Printed by and for W. S. and sold by the Booksellers 
 of Pye Corner and London Bridge. 
 
 UPON MY LORD MAJOR'S DAY, BEING PUT OFF 
 BY REASON OF THE PLAGUE. 
 
 This satirical ballad, which is extracted from " Wit and Drol- 
 lery, 1656," and which the Editor has not been able to find in 
 any earlier collection, appears, from the allusions it contains, to 
 have been written on the plague of 1602-1603. The mention 
 made in the third stanza of the Spanish armada, shows that that
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 29 
 
 event was still comparatively recent ; and the words in the eighth 
 stanza, " in first of reigne," fix its period more clearly as the 
 first of James I, when this great plague broke out. It raged 
 for nearly a year, and carried off 30,578 persons, of whom 3,090 
 died in one week. The lung's public entry into London, and the 
 city rejoicings, were postjioned from the 9th November, 1603, to 
 the 15th of March following, when the plague having abated, 
 the king, queen, and Prince Henry, rode from the Tower of 
 London through the city, which on that occasion was decorated 
 with more than usual magnificence. 
 
 If you '1 but heai' me I shall tell 
 A sad mischance that late befell, 
 
 for which the dayes of old, 
 In aU new almanacks must mourne, 
 And babes that never must be borne 
 
 shall weep to hear it told. 
 
 For loe the sport of that great day, 
 
 In which the Maior hath leave to play, 
 and with him all the town ; 
 
 His flag and drum, and fife released, 
 
 And he forbad to goe a feast- 
 ing in his scarlet gown. 
 
 No fife must on the Thames be seen. 
 
 To fright the maior, and please the queen, 
 
 nor any wilde-fire tost ; 
 Though he suppose the fleet that late 
 Invaded us in eighty-eight, 
 
 ore-matcht by his gaily foist.
 
 30 SONGS OF THE 
 
 The pageants, and the painted cost 
 Bestowed on them, ai-e all quite lost, 
 
 for now he must not ride ; 
 Nor shall they hear the players tale, 
 Who mounted on some mighty whale, 
 
 swims with him through Cheap-side. 
 
 Guildliall now must not entertaine 
 
 The maior, who there would feast his brain 
 
 with white broth and with hen; 
 Nor shall the fencers act their piggs 
 Before the hinch-boyes, which are giggs 
 
 whipt out with all the men. 
 
 Nor must he goe in state to sweare, 
 As he was wont, at Westminster, 
 
 no trumpet's at the hall; 
 Their clamorous voices there would stretch, 
 As if the lawyers they would teach 
 
 in their owne courts to bawl. 
 
 But what in sooth is pitty most, 
 Is for the daughters they have lost, 
 
 all joyes for which they pray; 
 Which scatter palmes on their cheeks. 
 Which they had prim'd at least thi-ee weeks 
 
 before, against the day. 
 
 And 'mongst themselves they much complain, 
 That this lord maior in first of reigne 
 should doe them so much wrong,
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 31 
 
 As to surpresse by message sad, 
 The feast for which they all have had 
 their march-pane dream so long. 
 
 Thus for their beauteous sakes have I 
 Described the dayes large history, 
 
 'tis true, although not witty; 
 Which is deny'd, for I'de be loth 
 To cut my coat above my cloath, — 
 
 my subject is the city. 
 
 LONDON'S ORDINARY: OR, EVERY MAN IN 
 HIS HUMOUR. 
 
 To a pleasant new Tune. 
 
 The following humorous list of taverns in London, has been 
 transcribed from a broadside in the British Museum. It is also 
 to be found in Heywood's " Rape of Lucrece." A portion of it, 
 with some variations, is also inserted, under the title of the " Ta- 
 vern Song," in the third edition of " Wit and IVIirth, an Antidote 
 against Melancholy. London, 1682." 
 
 Through the Royal Exchange as I walked, 
 where gallants in sattin did shine ; 
 
 At midst of the day they parted away 
 at several places to dine. 
 
 The gentry went to the King's Head, 
 
 the nobles unto the Crown ; 
 The knights unto the Golden Fleece, 
 
 and the plowman to the Clown.
 
 32 SONGS OF THE 
 
 The clergy will dine at the Miter, 
 
 the vintners at the Three Tuns; 
 The usurers to the Devil will go, 
 
 and the fryers unto the Nuns. 
 
 The ladies wiU dine at the Feathers, 
 
 the Globe no captain will scorn; 
 The huntsman will go to the Grey-hound below, 
 
 and some townsmen to the Horn. 
 
 The plummer wiU dine at the Fountain, 
 
 the cooks at the Holy Lamb; 
 The drunkards at noon to the Man in the Moon, 
 
 and the cuckolds to the Ram. 
 
 The rovers will dine at the Lyon, 
 
 the watermen at the Old Swan; 
 The bawds wiU to the Negro go, 
 
 and the whores to the Naked Man. 
 
 The keepers will to the White Hart, 
 
 the marriners unto the Ship; 
 The beggars they must take their way 
 
 to the Eg-shell and the Whip. 
 
 The farriers will to the Horse, 
 
 the blacksmith unto the Lock ; 
 The butchers to the Bull will go, * 
 
 and the carmen to Bridewell-Dock.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 33 
 
 The fishmongers unto the Dolphin, 
 
 the bakers to the Cheat-Loaf ; 
 The turners unto the Table will go, 
 
 where they may merrily quaff. 
 
 The taylor will dine at the Sheers, 
 
 the shoo-makers will to the Boot; 
 The Welshmen they will take their way, 
 
 and dine at the sign of the Goat. 
 
 The hosiers will dine at the Leg, 
 
 and drapers at the sign of the Brush; 
 
 The fletchers to Robin Hood will go, 
 and the spendthrift to Beggar's Bush. 
 
 The pewterers to the Quart Pot, 
 
 the coopers will dine at the Hoop; 
 The coblers to the Last will go, 
 
 and the bargemen to the Scoop. 
 
 The carpenters will dine at the Axe, 
 
 the colliers will dine at the Sack; 
 Your fruiterer he to the Cherry-tree, — 
 
 good fellows no liquor will lack. 
 
 The goldsmiths to the Three Cups, 
 
 their money they count as dross; 
 Your puritan to the Pewter Can, 
 
 and your papists to the Cross.
 
 34 SONGS OF THE 
 
 The weavers will dine at the Shuttle, 
 
 the glovers will into the Glove; 
 The maidens all to the Maidenhead, 
 
 and true lovers unto the Dove. 
 
 The sadlers will dine at the Saddle, 
 the painters to the Green Dragon; 
 
 The Dutchman will go to the sign of the Vi'ow, 
 where each man may drink his flagon. 
 
 The chandlers will dine at the Scales, 
 the salters at the sign of the Bag; 
 
 The porters take pain at the Labour-in-vain, 
 and the horse-courser to the Wliite Nag. 
 
 Thus every man in his humour, 
 
 from the north unto the south; 
 But he that hath no money in his purse, 
 
 may dine ai the sign of the Mouth. 
 
 The swaggerers will dine at the Fencers; 
 
 but those that have lost their wits, 
 With Bedlam Tom let there be their home, 
 
 and the Drum the drummers best hits. 
 
 The cheater will dine at the Chequer, 
 the pick -pocket at the Blind Ale-house; 
 
 Till taken and tride, up Holborn they ride, 
 and make their end at the gallows. 
 
 rrinted for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J. Clarke.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADRS. 85 
 
 GEORGE BARNWELL. 
 
 An apology may be necessary for the reproduction here of a 
 ballad so well known as " George Barnwell ;" and the only 
 apology that can be offered is, that a collection relating to London 
 and London Prentices would be incomplete without it. In the 
 introduction giien to it in Percy's Eeliquos, the bishop states 
 that this tragical ballad seems to relate to a real fact, but when 
 it happened he had not been able to discover. No further light 
 has since been thrown upon the matter. The title of the ballad, 
 as taken by Percy from the Ashmole Collection, at Oxford, is 
 " An excellent Ballad of George Barnwell, an Apprentice of 
 London, who thrice robbed his master, and Murdered his Uncle, 
 at Ludlow. To the Tune of ' The Mei'chant.' " The well-known 
 play of " George Barnwell," wi'itten by Lillo, and produced 
 by him in or shortly prior to 1730, was imtil very recently 
 annually brought forward on the metropolitan boards at holiday 
 time, as an example to the idle youths that then flocked to the 
 theatres ; but it now seems to bo discarded altogether, and bids 
 fair to become obsolete. It is said of a recent worthy chamber- 
 lain of the city, that he never failed when an apprentice was 
 bound before him, to relate the sad story of George Barnwell, 
 and quote some lines of the ballad, as a warning to him. 
 
 THE FIRST PART. 
 
 All youth of fair England 
 
 That dwell both far and near, 
 Regard my story that I tell, 
 
 And to my song give ear. 
 
 A London lad I was, 
 
 A merchant's prentice bound ; 
 My name George Barnwell ; that did spend 
 
 My master many a pound, 
 
 D 2
 
 36 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Take heed of harlots then, 
 And then* enticing trains ; 
 
 For by that means I have been brought 
 To hang alive in chains. 
 
 As I, upon a day, 
 
 Was walking through the street 
 About my master's business, 
 
 A wanton I did meet. 
 
 A gallant dainty dame. 
 And sumptuous in attire ; 
 
 With smUing look she greeted me. 
 And did my name require. 
 
 Which when I had declar'd, 
 
 She gave me then a kiss, 
 And said, if I would come to her, 
 
 I should have more than this. 
 
 Fair mistress, then quoth I, 
 
 If I the place may know, 
 This evening I wUl be with you, 
 
 For I abroad must go, 
 
 To gather monies in, 
 
 That are my master's due : 
 
 And ere that I do home return, 
 I'll come and visit you.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 37 
 
 Good Barnwell, then quoth she, 
 
 Do thou to Shoreditch come. 
 And ask for Mrs. Millwood's house, 
 
 Next door unto the Gun. 
 
 And trust me on my truth, 
 
 If thou keep touch with me. 
 My dearest friend, as my own heart 
 
 Thou shalt right welcome be. 
 
 Thus parted we in peace, 
 
 And home I passed right; 
 Then went abroad, and gathered in, 
 
 By six o'clock at night, 
 
 An hundred pound and one: 
 
 With bag under my arm 
 I went to Mrs. Millwood's house, 
 
 And thought on little harm ; 
 
 And knocking at the door. 
 
 Straightway herself came down ; 
 Rustling in most brave attire. 
 
 With hood and silken gown. 
 
 Who, through her beauty bright, 
 
 So gloriously did shine. 
 That she amaz'd my dazzling eyes. 
 
 She seemed so divine.
 
 38 SONGS OF THE 
 
 She took me by the hand, 
 
 And with a modest grace 
 Welcome, sweet Barnwell, then quoth she. 
 
 Unto this homely place. 
 
 And since I have thee found 
 
 As good as thy word to be : 
 A homely supper, ere we part. 
 
 Thou shalt take here with me. 
 
 pardon me, quoth I, 
 
 Fair mistress, I you pray ; 
 For why, out of my master's house. 
 So long I dare not stay. 
 
 Alas, good sir, she said. 
 
 Are you so strictly ty'd, 
 You may not with your dearest friend 
 
 One hour or two abide ? 
 
 Faith, then the case is hard ; 
 If it be so, quoth she, 
 
 1 would I were a prentice bound. 
 
 To live along with thee : 
 
 Therefore, my deai-est George, 
 
 List weU what I shall say. 
 And do not blame a woman much, 
 
 Her fancy to bewray.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 39 
 
 Let not affection's force 
 
 Be counted lewd desire ; 
 Nor think it not immodesty, 
 
 I should thy love require. 
 
 With that she turn'd aside, 
 
 And with a blushing red, 
 A mournful motion she bewray'd 
 
 By hanging down her head. 
 
 A handkerchief she had 
 
 All wrought with silk and gold : 
 Wlaich she to stay her trickling tears 
 
 Before her eyes did hold. 
 
 This thing unto my sight 
 
 Was wondrous rare and strange ; 
 
 And in my soul and inward thought 
 It wrought a sudden change : 
 
 That I so hardy grew, 
 
 To take her by the hand : 
 Saying, Sweet mistress, why do you 
 
 So dull and pensive stand ? 
 
 Call me no mistress now. 
 
 But Sarah, thy true friend. 
 Thy servant, MiUwood, honouring thee. 
 
 Until her life hath end.
 
 40 SONGS OF THE 
 
 If thou wouldst here alledge, 
 Thou art in years a boy; 
 
 So was Adonis, yet was he 
 Fair Venus' only joy. 
 
 Thus I, who ne'er before 
 Of woman found such grace, 
 
 But seeing now so fair a dame 
 Give me a kind embrace, 
 
 I supt with her that night, 
 With joys that did abound ; 
 
 And for the same paid pi'esently, 
 In Money twice three pound. 
 
 An hundred kisses then, 
 For my farewel she gave ; 
 
 Crying, Sweet Barnwell, when shall I 
 Again thy company have ? 
 
 O stay not hence too long. 
 
 Sweet George, have me in mind. 
 
 Her words bewitcht my childishness. 
 She uttered them so kind : 
 
 So that I made a vow. 
 Next Sunday without fail, 
 
 With my sweet Sarah once again 
 To tell some pleasant tale.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 41 
 
 When she heard me say so, 
 
 The tears fell from her eye ; 
 O George, quoth she, if thou dost fail, 
 
 Thy Sarah sure will dye. 
 
 Though long, yet loe ! at last. 
 
 The appointed day was come, 
 That I must with my Sarah meet ; 
 
 Having a mighty sum 
 
 Of money in my hand,* 
 
 Unto her house went I, 
 Whereas my love upon her bed 
 
 In saddest sort did lye. 
 
 What ails my heart's delight, 
 
 My Sarah dear ? quoth I ; 
 Let not my love lament and grieve. 
 
 Nor sighing pine, and dye. 
 
 But tell me, dearest friend, 
 
 What may thy woes amend. 
 And thou shalt lack no means of help. 
 
 Though forty pound I spend. 
 
 * The having a sum of money with him on Sunday, &c. shows 
 this narrative to have been penned before the civil wars: the 
 strict observance of the Sabbath was owing to change of manners 
 at that period. — Percy.
 
 42 SONGS OF THE 
 
 With that she turn'd her head, 
 
 And sickly thus did say, 
 Oh me, sweet George, my grief is great. 
 
 Ten pound I have to pay 
 
 Unto a cruel wretch ; 
 
 And God he knows, quoth she, 
 I have it not. Tush, rise, I said, 
 
 And take it here of me. 
 
 Ten pounds, nor ten times ten, 
 Shall make my love decay, 
 
 Then from my bag into her lap, 
 I cast ten pound straightway. 
 
 All blithe and pleasant then, 
 
 To banqueting we go; 
 She proffered me to lye with her. 
 
 And said it should be so. 
 
 And after that same time, 
 
 I gave her store of coyn, 
 Yea, sometimes fifty pound at once, 
 
 All which I did purloyn. 
 
 And thus I did pass on; 
 
 Until my master then 
 Did call to have his reckoning in 
 
 Cast up among his men.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 43 
 
 The which when as I heai'd, 
 
 I knew not what to aay; 
 For well I knew that I was out 
 
 Two hundred pound that day. 
 
 Then from my master straight 
 
 I ran in secret sort; 
 And unto Sarah Millwood there 
 
 My case I did report. 
 
 " But how she us'd this youth, 
 
 In this his care and woe, 
 And all a strumpet's wiley ways, 
 
 The SECOND PART may show." 
 
 THE SECONB PART. 
 
 Young Barnwell comes to thee 
 
 Sweet Sarali, my delight; 
 I am undone, unless thou stand 
 
 My faithful friend this night. 
 
 Our master to accompts 
 
 Hath just occasion found; 
 And I am caught behind the hand 
 
 Above two hundred pound. 
 
 And now his wrath to 'scape. 
 
 My love, I fly to thee. 
 Hoping some time I may remaine 
 
 In safety here with thee.
 
 44 SONGS OF THE 
 
 With that she knit her brows, 
 
 And looking all aquoy, 
 Quoth she, Wliat should I have to do 
 
 With any prentice boy? 
 
 And seeing that you have purloyn'd 
 Your master's goods away, 
 
 The case is bad, and therefore here 
 You shall no longer stay. 
 
 Why, dear, thou know'st, I said, 
 How all which I could get, 
 
 I gave it, and did spend it all 
 Upon thee every whit. 
 
 Quoth she, Thou art a knave, 
 To chai'ge me in tliis sort. 
 
 Being a woman of credit fair. 
 And known of good report. 
 
 Tlierefore I tell thee flat. 
 Be packing with good speed, 
 
 I do defie thee from my heart. 
 And scorn thy filthy deed. 
 
 Is this the friendship, that 
 
 You did to me protest? 
 Is this the great affection, which 
 
 You so to me exprest?
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 45 
 
 Now fie on subtle shrews! 
 
 The best is, I may speed 
 To get a lodging any where 
 
 For money in my need. 
 
 False woman, now farewell, 
 
 Wliilst twenty pound doth last, 
 My anchor in some other haven 
 
 With freedom I wiU cast. 
 
 Wlien she perceiv'd by this, 
 
 I had store of money there, 
 Stay, George, quoth she, thou art too quick: 
 
 Why, man, I did but jeer. 
 
 Dost think for all my speech. 
 
 That I would let thee go? 
 Faith no, said she, my love to thee 
 
 I wiss is more than so. 
 
 You scorne a prentice boy, 
 
 I heard you just now swear, 
 Wherefore I will not trouble you. 
 
 Nay, George, hark in thine ear; 
 
 Thou shalt not go to-night. 
 
 What chance soe'er befaU; 
 But man we'U have a bed for thee, 
 
 Or else the devil take aU.
 
 46 SONGS OF THE 
 
 So I by wiles bewitcht, 
 
 And snar'd with fancy still, 
 
 Had then no power to get away, 
 Or to withstand her will. 
 
 For wine on wine I call'd. 
 And cheer upon good cheer; 
 
 And nothing in the world I thought 
 For Sarah's love too dear. 
 
 Whilst in her company, 
 
 I had such merriment ; 
 All, all too little I did think, 
 
 That I upon her spent. 
 
 A fig for care and thought! 
 
 When all my gold is gone. 
 In faith, my girl, we will have more, 
 
 Wlioever I light upon. 
 
 My father's rich, why then 
 Should I want store of gold? 
 
 Nay with a father sure, quoth she, 
 A son may well make bold. 
 
 I've a sister richly wed, 
 I'll rob her ere I'U want. 
 
 Nay then, quoth Sarah, they may well 
 Consider of you scant.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 47 
 
 Nay, I an uncle have: 
 
 At Ludlow he doth dwell: 
 He is a grazier, which in wealth 
 
 Doth all the rest excell. 
 
 Ere I will live in lack. 
 
 And have no coyn for thee ; 
 I'll rob his house, and murder him. 
 
 Wlay should you not? quoth she: 
 
 Was I a man, ere I 
 
 Would live in poor estate; 
 On father, friends, and all my kin, 
 
 I would my talons grate. 
 
 For without money, George, 
 
 A man is but a beast: 
 But bringing money, thou shalt be 
 
 Always my welcome guest. 
 
 For shouldst thou be pui'sued 
 
 With twenty hues and cryes. 
 And with a warrant searched for 
 
 With Argus' hundred eyes. 
 
 Yet here thou shalt be safe; 
 
 Such privy wayes there be. 
 That if they sought an hundi-ed years. 
 
 They could not find out thee.
 
 48 SONGS OF THE 
 
 And so carousing both 
 
 Their pleasures to content: 
 
 George Barnwell had in little space 
 His money wholly spent. 
 
 Which done, to Ludlow straight 
 
 He did provide to go, 
 To rob his wealthy uncle there; 
 
 His minion would it so. 
 
 And once he thought to take 
 
 His father by the way, 
 But that he fear'd his master had 
 
 Took order for his stay. 
 
 Unto his uncle then 
 
 He rode with might and main, 
 Wlio with a welcome and good cheer 
 
 Did Barnwell entertain. 
 
 One fortnight's space he stayed 
 
 Until it chanced so^^ 
 His uncle with his cattle did 
 
 Unto a market go. 
 
 His kinsman rode with liim. 
 Where he did see right plain, 
 
 Great store of money he had took: 
 When coming home again,
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 49 
 
 Sudden within a wood, 
 
 He struck his uncle down, 
 And beat his brains out of his head; 
 
 So sore he crackt his crown. 
 
 Then seizing fourscore pound, 
 
 To London straight he hyed, 
 And unto Sarah Millwood all 
 
 The cruell fact descryed. 
 
 Tush, 'tis no matter, George, 
 
 So we the money have 
 To have good cheer in jolly sort. 
 
 And deck us fine and brave. 
 
 Thus lived in filthy sort, 
 
 Until their store was gone: 
 When means to get them any more, 
 
 I wis, poor George had none. 
 
 Therefore in railing sort, 
 
 She thrust him out of door: 
 Which is the just reward of those, 
 
 Who spend upon a whore. 
 
 O! do me not disgrace 
 
 In this my need, quoth he, 
 She call'd him thief and murderer; — 
 
 With all the spight might be, 
 
 F.
 
 50 SONGS OF THE 
 
 To the constable she sent, 
 
 To have him apprehended: 
 And shewed how far, in each degree, 
 
 He had the laws offended. 
 
 When Barnwell saw her cWft, 
 
 To sea he got straightway; 
 Where fear and sting of conscience 
 
 Continually on him lay. 
 
 Unto the lord mayor then, 
 
 He did a letter write; 
 In which his own and Sai'ah's fault 
 
 He did at large recite. 
 
 Whereby she seized was, 
 
 And then to Ludlow sent; 
 Where she was judg'd, condemn'd, and hang'd, 
 
 For mm*der incontinent. 
 
 There dyed this gallant quean, 
 
 Such was her greatest gains: 
 For murder in Polonia, 
 
 Was Barnwell hang'd in chains. 
 
 Lo ! here's the end of youth, 
 
 That after harlots haunt; 
 Who in the spoil of other men, 
 
 About the streets do flaunt.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 5] 
 
 A BALLAD. 
 
 To the Tune of " I waile in woe, I plunge in pain ; or, Labandola 
 
 Shott." 
 
 In the books of the Stationer's Company is the following entry : 
 "7 November,! 576, licensed imtohim (i.e. Richard Jones) aballad, 
 intituled 'A woeful Ballad, made by Mr. George Manny ngton an 
 Hour before he suffered at Cambridge CasteD,' to the Tune of 
 ' Labandola Shott,' and beginning ' I waile in woe, I plunge in 
 paino.' " The following ballad, which is transcribed from " Wit 
 and Drollery," 1656, and which is published without atitle, appears 
 from the allusion to Mannington, to have been written at a time 
 when the fate of that malefactor was still recent and fresh in the 
 popular memory. The lines commencing the second stanza: 
 
 " I cast my coat and cap away, 
 And went in silk and satms gay," 
 
 seem to refer to an order published in 1582, at the command of 
 the queen. Elizabeth, being scandaUzed at the extravagance of 
 dress indulged in by the citizens generally, and by the appren- 
 tices in particular, sent a remonstrance to the Court of Common 
 Council, commanding them to take care, under pain of her dis- 
 pleasure, that the apprentices dressed themselves in a more sober 
 and becoming manner. The court issued their orders accord- 
 ingly ; and apprentices were commanded to wear a woollen coat 
 and cap, and forbidden under any circumstances, or upon any 
 pretence whatever, to wear jewellery, or any silk or velvet 
 apparel, or to carry any weapon of offence or defence. For the 
 first transgression of this kind, the delinquent was to be punished 
 at the discretion of his master ; for the second, ho was to be pub- 
 licly whipped in the hall of his company ; and for the third, he 
 was not only to be whipped, but to serve six months longer than 
 the term for which he was bound. The ballad relating to George 
 Mannington may be seen in the " Gentleman's Magazine" for 
 January 1781 ; and in Ritson's Collection of Ancient Songs and 
 Ballads. In " Eastward Iloe," by Jonson, Chapman, and Mars- 
 ton, Quicksilver, the apprentice, is introduced as a prisoner in 
 the Counter, reading these verses, which he calls his " Repent- 
 
 E 2
 
 52 SONGS OP THE 
 
 ance." The tune of " Labandola Shott," although that of a 
 "woful ballad," was, it appears, frequently danced to. Seeliitson's 
 introduction to the " Lamentation of George Mannington," in his 
 Ancient Songs and Ballads, vol. ii. p. 47. London, 1829. 
 
 In Cheapside, famous for gold and plate, 
 
 Quicksilver I did dwell of late; 
 
 I had a master good and kinde, 
 
 That would have wrought me to his minde. 
 
 He bade me still work upon that, 
 
 But, alas! I wrought I know not what. 
 
 He was a Touchstone, black but true. 
 
 And told me still what would ensue; 
 
 Yet, woe is me, I would not learne, 
 
 I saw, alas! but could not discerne. 
 
 I cast my coat and cap away, 
 I went in silkes and sattins gay; 
 False mettall of good manners I 
 Did daily coyne unlawfully. 
 I scorn'd my master, being drunke, 
 I kept my gelding and my punke, 
 And with a knight, Sir Flash by name. 
 Who now is sorry for the same. 
 
 Still eastward hoe, was all my word. 
 But westward I had no regard; 
 Nor never thought what would come after. 
 As did, alas, his youngest daughter.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 53 
 
 At last the black oxe trod on my foote, 
 I saw then what belong'd unto't; 
 Now cried I, Tonch-stone, touch me still, 
 And make me cm-rent by thy skill. 
 
 O Mannington, thy stories show 
 
 Thou cut'st a horse head off at a blow ; 
 
 But I confesse I have not the force 
 
 For to cut off the head of a horse, 
 
 Yet I desire this grace to win. 
 
 That I may cut off the horse-head of Sin, 
 
 And leave his body in the dust 
 
 Of Sinnes high way, and bogges of lust, 
 
 Whereby I may take Vertue's purse ; 
 
 And live with her for better for worse. 
 
 Farewell, Cheapside; farewell, sweet trade 
 Of goldsmiths all, that never shall fade; 
 Farewell, dear fellow prentices all. 
 And be you warned by my fall: 
 Shun usurer's bonds, and dice and drabs, 
 Avoid them as you would French scabs; 
 Seek not to goe beyond your tether, 
 And cut your thongs unto your lether, 
 So shall you thrive by little and little, 
 Scape Tyborne, Counters, and the Spittle.
 
 54 SONGS OF THE 
 
 THE RANTING RAMBLER: 
 
 OR, A YOUNG gentleman's FROLLICK THRO' THE CITY BY 
 night; WHERE HE WAS TAKEN BY THE WATCH, AND SENT 
 TO THE COUNTER BECAUSE HE WOULD NOT SPEAK; AND 
 THE NEXT DAY BROUGHT BEFORE MY LORD MAYOR, WHERE 
 HIS PARDON WAS BEGG'd BY HIS LOVING DAUGHTER. 
 
 To a pleasant new Tune, called " The Rant, Dal, derra, 
 rara." 
 
 From a broadside in the British Museum. The time of the 
 Rant is to be found in " A Collection of National English Airs," 
 by W. Chappell, F.S.A. 4to. 1840. 
 
 I PRAY now attend to this ditty, 
 a merry and frollicksome song, 
 
 'Twas of a young spark through the city, 
 by night he went ranting along, 
 
 The Rant, Dal derra, rarra, &c. 
 
 The constable happen'd to hear him, 
 and caU'd to his watch out of hand; 
 
 They went forth and never did fear him, 
 but presently bid him to stand. 
 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 Come bring forth the lanthorn and candle, 
 That streight we his person may seize; 
 
 I hope we have power to handle 
 such turbulent fellows as these. 
 
 The Rant, &c.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 55 
 
 Sir, come before Mi\ Constable, 
 
 there to be examin'd, in course, 
 Nay, if you refuse it, we're able 
 
 to bring you before him by force. 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 Friend, where have you been this late hour, 
 
 ne'er baffle, but now tell me true; 
 'Tis very well known I have power 
 
 to punish such ranters as you, 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 No person like him ever acted, 
 
 his senses and reason is fled; 
 I think that the fellow's distracted; — 
 
 why han't you a tongue in your head? 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 I'm the king's lieutenant, don't flout me, 
 
 my power aU persons wiU own; 
 The watch are my nobles about me, 
 
 this chair is a type of the throne. 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 This touch of my office I'll lend him, 
 my power o'er night he don't mind; 
 
 Therefore to the Counter I'll send him, 
 next morning a tongue he may And. 
 
 The Rant, &c.
 
 56 SONGS OF THE 
 
 The watchmen did streightways surround him, 
 and him to the Counter they bring, 
 
 And yet notwithstanding they found him 
 resolved this ditty to sing. 
 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 Come open, Turnkey of the prison, 
 this ranter must with you remain. 
 
 When sleep has restored his reason, 
 our master will call here again. 
 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 The keeper he said. Worthy Squire, 
 you seem like a person well bred; 
 
 Will you have a chamber and fire? 
 or shall we provide you a bed? 
 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 Come bring him a quart of canary, 
 
 and pipes of tobacco also; 
 The gentleman seems to be merry, 
 
 he'U pay us before he doth go. 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 The prisoners heard the oration, 
 
 how he in his rant did proceed, 
 And therefore without disputation, 
 
 they all came for garnish with speed. 
 The Rant, &c.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 57 
 
 And streight they laid bold of las bever, 
 and told bim be garnisb sbould pay; 
 
 Tbe keeper be us'd bis endeavour 
 to pacifie tbem wbile next day. 
 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 Tbe constable that was offended, 
 
 next day to the goal did repair, 
 And being with servants attended, 
 
 he brought him before tbe Lord Mayor. 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 As I in my watch-bouse was sitting, 
 
 this fellow a racket did keep; 
 A humour which was much unfitting, 
 
 he waken'd men out of their sleep. 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 Said I, where is your habitation, 
 
 I question'd this over and o'er ; 
 But he would give me no relation, 
 
 but still be came ranting tbe more. 
 Tbe Rant, &c. 
 
 My officers has be not rested, 
 
 in this you must satisfie me; 
 They to my Lord Mayor streight protested, 
 
 no man bad slept better than he. 
 The Rant, &c.
 
 58 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Do's such a strange humour attend you? 
 
 will you by strange fancies be led? 
 Again to the Counter I'll send you, 
 
 to cure the strange noise in your head. 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 Then streightways came in my lord's daughter, 
 and begg'd that he might be set free; 
 
 And said, Sir, I know that hereafter, 
 youH find this a wager to be. 
 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 He streightways did grant her desire, 
 
 and to her request he agrees, 
 And did the young gallant require 
 
 to pay down his officers fees. 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 To pay which the gallant was ready, 
 
 yet never a word did he say, 
 But made a bow to the young lady, 
 
 and then he went singing away. 
 The Rant, &c. 
 
 Licensed according to Order. 
 Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Back.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 59 
 
 A TRUE CHARACTER OF SUNDRY TRADES AND 
 
 CALLINGS : OR, A NEW DITTY OF 
 
 INNOCENT MIRTH. 
 
 This song is new, perfect, and true, 
 ' There's none can this deny ; 
 For I am known, friend, to be one 
 That scorn to tell a lie. 
 
 To the Tune of " Old Simon the KinR-." 
 
 Licensed according to Order. 
 
 From a broadside in the British Museum. The song and tune 
 of " Old Sir Simon the King, are reprinted in " A Collection of 
 National Enghsh Airs," by W. Chappell, F.S.A. 4to. 1840. 
 
 Now, gentlemen, be you all merry, 
 
 I'll sing you the song of a want; 
 I'll make you as merry as may be, 
 
 Tho' money begins to grow scant, 
 A Woman without e'er a tongue 
 
 She never can scold very loud; 
 'Tis just such another great want 
 
 When the Fidler wants his crowd. 
 Good people, I teU unto you, 
 
 These lines are absolute new; 
 For I hate and despise the telling of lies, — 
 
 This ditty is merry and true. 
 
 A Ship that's without e'er a sail, 
 
 May be driven the Lord knows whither; 
 
 'Tis just such another sad want 
 
 When the Shooe-maker wants his leather.
 
 60 SONGS OF THE 
 
 A man that has got but one legg, 
 Will mtike but a pitiful runner; 
 
 And he that has no eyes in his head, 
 Will make but a sorrowful Gunner, 
 
 Grood people, I tell, &c. 
 
 A Doctor without any stomack 
 
 Will make but a pitiful dinner; 
 And he that has got no dinner to eat. 
 
 Will quickly look thinner and thinner. 
 A bell without e'er a clapper. 
 
 Will make but a sorrowful sound; 
 And he that has no land of his own. 
 
 May work on another man's ground. 
 Good people, I tell, &c. 
 
 A Blacksmith without his bellows. 
 
 He need to not rise very soon; 
 And he that has no cloaths to put on. 
 
 May lye in his bed till noon. 
 An Innkeeper without any custom. 
 
 Will never get store of wealth ; 
 And if he has ne'er a sign to hang up. 
 
 He may e'en go hang up himself. 
 Good people, &c. 
 
 A Miller without any stones. 
 He is but a sori'owful soul; 
 
 And if that he has no corn to grind, 
 He need not stand taking of toll.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 01 
 
 The Taylor we know he is loath 
 
 To take any cabbidge at all, 
 If he has no silk, stufl^, or cloath. 
 
 To do that good office withal. 
 Good people, &c. 
 
 A Woman without e'er a fault, 
 
 She like a bright star will appear ; 
 But a Brewer without any niault, 
 
 WiU make but pitiful beer. 
 A man that has got but one shirt, 
 
 Wlien e'er it is wash'd for his hide, 
 I hope it can't be no great hurt 
 
 To lye in his bed till 'tis dry'd. 
 Good people, &c. 
 
 A Mountebank without his fools, 
 
 And a ship-kennel turn'd out of place, 
 A Tinker without any tools. 
 
 They are aU in a sorrowful case. 
 All know that a dish of good meat, 
 
 It is the true stay of man's life; 
 But he that has nothing to eat, 
 
 He need not to draw out his knife. 
 Good people, &c. 
 
 A Pedlar without e'er a stock, 
 
 It makes him look pittiful blew; 
 A Shepherd without e'er a flock. 
 
 Has little or nothins: to do.
 
 62 SONGS OF THE 
 
 A Farmer without any corn, 
 
 He neither can give, sell, or lend; 
 
 A Huntsman without e'er a horn, 
 
 His whistle must stand his good friend. 
 
 Good people, &c. 
 
 A Plowman that has ne'er a plow, 
 
 I think may live at his ease; 
 A Dairy without e'er a cow. 
 
 Will make but bad butter and cheese. 
 A man that is pittiful poor, 
 
 Has little or nothing to lose; 
 And he that has never a foot, 
 
 It saves him the buying of shooes. 
 Good people, &c. 
 
 A Warren without e'er a coney, 
 
 Is barren, and so much the worse; 
 And he that is qixite without money, 
 
 Can have no great need of a purse, 
 I hope there is none in this place 
 
 That is now displeas'd with this song; 
 Come buy up my ballads apace, 
 
 And I'll pack up my awls and begone. 
 Good people, I tell unto you. 
 
 These lines are absolute new; 
 For I hate and despise the telling of lies, 
 
 This ditty is merry and true. 
 
 London : Printer! for P. Brooksby, at the " Golden Ball," in 
 Pye Corner.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 68 
 
 MICHAELMAS TERM. 
 
 THE CITIZENS KIND WELCOME TO COUNTRY-MEN THAT 
 FROM ALL PARTS OF THE LAND COME HITHER ABOUT THEIR 
 NEEDLESSE OCCASIONS (nEEDFUL, I MEAN) WITH A DES- 
 CRIPTION OF THE SEASONS AND MANNERS OF THE PEOPLE 
 THEREIN IMPLOYED. 
 
 To the Tune of " The Rambling Gierke." 
 [From a broadside in the Bi-itish Museum.] 
 
 Come hither, my muse, if that thou be'st cold. 
 
 And warm thyself well Avith Promethean fire ; 
 Which when thou hast done, let me be bold 
 
 In matter of moment thy aid to require. 
 My mind is resolved to Avrite on a theam. 
 
 The which my expression I hope shall confirm; 
 Those men that do come from all parts of the realm, 
 
 I bid them all welcome to Michaelmas Term. 
 
 The tradesmen of London, with long expectation 
 
 Have lookt for the coming of this happy time; 
 They are sick at heart of the tedious vexation. 
 
 But now on a sudden they'll be in their prime. 
 They think themselves happy, especially some. 
 
 If Michaelmas rent and their dyet they earn; 
 But now they are glad, for their harvest is come, — 
 
 The countiy brings money to Michaelmas Term. 
 
 The Innholders, Vintners, Victualers, and Cooks, 
 Through want of imployment make grievus complaint •
 
 64 SONGS OF THE 
 
 In all this long season they were off o' th' hook, 
 But now their Red Lettise they do new paint. 
 
 Some set up new signes, or new florish the old, 
 And mend their old houses, if they be infirm ; 
 
 To venture their money they dare Avell be bold. 
 In hope to regain it in Michaelmas Term. 
 
 The Tapsters, Ostlers, and Chamberlains ale. 
 
 Chiefly about Holborn, Fleet Street, and the Strand, 
 Since Trinity term had takings but small, 
 
 Which caus'd many of them to run behind hand; 
 But now they are jovial, and take heart a grace. 
 
 And both nimble gestures and speeches they learn; 
 Their gains now come tumbling in a great pace, — 
 
 Long time they have wished for Michaelmas Term. 
 
 Some atturnies, and some that solicite law cases, 
 
 That at the vacation in the country plods. 
 They, like to King Janus, can use double faces. 
 
 And bribe to set neighbour with neighbour at odds; 
 Now hither they come, with their bags full of law, 
 
 But the profits they all to themselves do confirm ; 
 Although it be but for a trusse of rye straw, 
 
 The case must be try'd at Michaelmas Term. 
 
 The rambling Clerks, that for lodging and dyet 
 Have run on the ticket with Vitlers and Cooks, 
 
 Besides now and then for some overplus royot 
 
 Some of them have pawn'd their gowns and their books.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 65 
 
 O now they ai*e frollick, and sing care away, 
 For country clients about them do swarm; 
 
 Now all their old scores they'll be able to pay, — 
 Their hands are so busy in Michaelmas Term. 
 
 The three-peny ordinaries are so full throng'd, 
 
 That there you can scarce get one bit of meat; 
 Your countrymen proudly do scorn to be wrong'd, 
 
 And yet their own bellies they basely wiU cheat. 
 The lawyers' hands are stiU itching for fees, 
 
 Wliich makes the plain husbandman let out his farm. 
 To come up to London to eat bread and cheese, 
 
 While lawyers eat rost meat in Michaelmas Term. 
 
 The dainty fine girls that keep shop in the Change, 
 
 Against this quick season have been exercis'd. 
 To furnish their coiFers with fashions all strange, — 
 
 The finest and rarest that can be devis'd; 
 They keep their old ditty, — sir, what is't you lack? — 
 
 Wliich country people are greedy to learn: 
 The husband must carry the wife some new knack, 
 
 Or else he's not welcome from Michaelmas Term. 
 
 The jovial Watermen trim up their botes. 
 
 And to be more plyant in plying their fares, 
 With strong beer and ale they do liquor their tlu"oats, 
 
 For which they will wander to the ale-house by pairs; 
 And, if the frost do not their labour prevent, 
 
 Abundance of money they daily will earn, 
 Wliich in the vacation will freely be spent. 
 
 And then they will think upon Michaehnas Term.
 
 66 SONGS OF THE 
 
 The feather-heel'd wenches that live by their owne, 
 
 Who long have been needy, for want of good ti'aining; 
 For when all the gallants are gone out o' th' town, 
 
 O then these fine pinaces lack their due lading. 
 Therefore the vocation they rue like the rest. 
 
 Because neither dyet nor cloaths they can earne; 
 But now they're in hope well to feather their nest, — 
 
 They looke for good doings in Michaelmas Term. 
 
 Pick-pockets and Cheaters, with knights of the post. 
 
 Doe long for the term-time, like honester men; 
 Where concourse of people is, they doe get most, 
 
 With raking exploits, which they use now and then. 
 And yet if they chance to be got in the nick. 
 
 The Hangman next sessions will teach them a charm 
 Will cure their disease, be they never so sick; 
 
 O then will they think upon Michaelmas Term. 
 
 The court and the city, the country withaU, 
 
 K you will behold a part of all three, 
 Then come at this time to Westminster Hall, 
 
 Where people from all parts assembled be: 
 And thus I'll conclude, as at first I began. 
 
 Experience all this for truth will confirm; 
 I hope I have given distaste to no man, 
 
 For I bid them all welcome to Michaelmas Term. 
 
 Printed for F. Coles, J. W. T. Vere, W. Gilbertson.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 67 
 
 A USE OF EXHORTATION TO THE LONDON 
 
 APPRENTICES : OR, A SECOND MESSAGE 
 
 AFTER THEIR PETITION. 
 
 These lines, which are transcribed from a broadside in the 
 British Museum, have no date, but are probably of the year 
 1643. At that time, and for some months previous, the appren- 
 tices had taken a great part in public affairs ; they had assisted 
 to fortify London against the royal army; they had drawn up 
 petitions to parliament several times, and besieged the doors of 
 the house in going to present them. After the battle of Edge- 
 hill, when the king retired to Oxford, the parliamentary army, 
 under the Earl of Essex, was recruited out of the apprentices of 
 London, who were encouraged by an ordinance of parliament 
 that delivered them from the authority of their masters, and 
 commanded their masters to receive them upon their return, 
 with a clause to indemnify the masters out of the public purse 
 for any damage they might sustain by their absence. In 1643, 
 the king made an effort to gain over the Londoners and the 
 apprentices, and wrote a letter, addressed to the lord mayor, 
 aldermen, and aU other wcll-affectcd citizens, with the view of 
 eftecting a reconcihation. These verses appear to have been 
 printed at Oxford at the time, to aid the efforts of the king, and 
 produce an impression upon that powerful body, the apprentices. 
 The " carnation coats" and " lobsters" alluded to, are the soldiers 
 of the Earl of Essex : and the mention of the doings in Exeter 
 and Cornwall, shows that we must fix the date of this production 
 shortly after the vdctories of the Cornish royalists. The petition 
 of the apprentices may be seen in the Hai'leian Miscellany, 
 vol. viii. page 593. 
 
 Young men, whei'e are you now; what, fast asleep? 
 What, in a di*eam? or do you keep 
 Close to the fire-side, because 'tis cold? 
 Or (as your masters say) must you be told 
 Over and over? "Wliat are you blinde? 
 Besotted quite, or do you feare the winde? 
 
 f2
 
 68 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Or have the gun-men plung'd you into fears? 
 
 Or are you frighted with their bandileers? 
 
 Wliy gaze you thus? like men distracted, 
 
 Looking at one another, and nothing acted : 
 
 Crying a lyon lurketh in the way: 
 
 When as 'tis but a lobster, whom (men say) 
 
 Turn him but o're and o're he'U turn to you ; 
 
 Then turn for shame, sluggards, least you rue 
 
 When 'tis too late; — be wise betimes, 
 
 Me thinks the countries valour shoidd ring chimes: 
 
 Unless you stop your ears, you can't but hear 
 
 How Exiter and Cornwal banish fear; 
 
 They help for you to better your condition, 
 
 They hazard all to fulfill your petition; 
 
 Yet you won't help yourselves, I blush to see 
 
 Such pettie places venture more then we. 
 
 Then Prentices awake, awake for shame. 
 
 Be faint no more, all cowardize disclaim; 
 
 Disband feamality, let courage be your portion, 
 
 In such a case, vallour's the best devotion. 
 
 Petitions wiU not do, fare means are slighted. 
 
 You are compell'd at least, much more invited 
 
 To do the work yourselves; then since 'tis so. 
 
 Shew yourselves men, about the business go: 
 
 Time is a precious thing, forbear delay, 
 
 WTiilst the sun shines, be sure to make your hay. 
 
 Fear not carnation coats, they are but men. 
 
 They'd rather eat then fight; not one in ten, 
 
 But (like self-seeking rascalls) are so evil. 
 
 For six-pence more they'd list unto the devil.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 69 
 
 Then blades revive, thus far I dare aspire, 
 You may yourselves accomplish your desire; 
 The day's your own, and such is your condition, 
 Yourselves may quickly grant your own petition. 
 Till these things come to pass, tiU this we see, 
 Serve Jacob's prentiship, you shan't be free. 
 Till men have noble hearts, till youths grow bold, 
 TiU men do one another's good uphold. 
 Till valour springs, till courage doth increase. 
 Till wrong have right, expect no settled peace: 
 Here's arguments enough, if you be wise. 
 Reduce your honour, though you lose your eyes. 
 Uphold your trade, maintain the good old cause, 
 Uncoat the lobsters, take away their clawes. 
 
 Take this for all, I have no more to say, 
 I am the guide to put you in the way: 
 Here's the right path, hang him that goes astray. 
 
 J.E. App;— 
 Oxford : Printed for Carohis Adolphus. 
 
 ROBTN CONSCIENCE: 
 
 OR, CONSCIONABLE ROBIN, HIS PROGRESS THROUGH COURT, 
 
 CITY, AND COUNTRY, WITH HIS BAD ENTERTAINMENT 
 
 AT EACH SEVERAL PLACE. 
 
 This ballad, which is of peculiar value to all who are interested 
 in the topography of London, was, it would appear, first pub- 
 lished at Edinburgh, in 1683, in a small duodecimo tract of
 
 70 SONGS OF THE 
 
 twenty-four pages, and has been since (very incorrectly) printed in 
 the first volume of the Harleian Miscellany. The local allusions 
 arc interesting at this distance of time, and the satire is of such 
 a character as never to be out of date. The idea seems to have 
 been suggested by Lydgate's ballad of " London Lackpenny." 
 
 I HAVE been quite through England wide 
 With many a faint and weary stride, 
 To see what people there abide 
 
 that love me, 
 Poor Robin Conscience is my name, 
 Sore vexed with reproach and blame, 
 For all wherever yet I came 
 
 reprove me. 
 
 Few now endure my presence here, 
 1 shall be banishd quite I fear, 
 I am despised every where, 
 
 and scorned. 
 Yet is my fortune now and then 
 To meet some good woman or man, 
 Who have (when they my woes did scan) 
 
 sore mourned. 
 
 To think that conscience is despised, 
 Which ought to be most highly prized, 
 This trick the devil hath devised 
 
 to blind men, 
 'Cause Conscience tells them of their ways, 
 Wlaich are so wicked now-a-days. 
 They stop their ears to what he says; — 
 
 unkind men!
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 71 
 
 I first of all went to the court, 
 Wliere lords and ladies did resort, 
 My entertainment there was short; — 
 
 cold welcome! 
 As soon as e'er my name they heard, 
 They ran away full sore afear'd, 
 And thought some goblin had appear'd 
 
 from heU come. 
 
 " Conscience," quoth one, " begone with speed, 
 The court few of thy name doth breed, 
 We of thy presence have no need; — 
 
 be walking; 
 Thou tell'st us of our pride and lust. 
 Which spite of thee we follow must. 
 (So out of court was Conscience thrust) 
 
 no tallcing. 
 
 Thus banished from the court I went. 
 To Westminster incontinent. 
 Where I alas was sorely shent 
 
 for coming. 
 The lawyers did against me plead, 
 " 'Twas no great matter," some there said, 
 " If Conscience quite were knock 'd in th' head; 
 
 Then running 
 
 From them I fled with winged haste; 
 They did so threaten me to baste. 
 Thought it was vain my breath to waste 
 in counsel.
 
 72 SONGS OP THE 
 
 For lawyers cannot me abide, 
 Because for falsehood I them elude, 
 And he that holds not on their side 
 must down still. 
 
 Unto the city hied I then, 
 
 To try what welcome there, trades-men 
 
 Would give poor Robin Conscience; when 
 
 I came there 
 The shop-keepers that use deceit 
 Did come about me and did threat, 
 Unless I would begone, to beat 
 
 me lame there. 
 
 And every one, both high and low. 
 Held Conscience as a mortal foe 
 Because he doth ill vices show 
 
 each minute. 
 Therefore the City in uproar 
 Against me rose, and me so tore 
 That Tm resolved I'll never more 
 
 come in it. 
 
 On Friday I to Smithfield went, 
 Wliere being come incontinent. 
 The horse-coursers with one consent 
 
 did chide me; 
 They said that I was not myself. 
 And said I was a pinching elf, 
 And they could get more store of pelf, 
 
 beside me.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 73 
 
 I told them of a. cheating trick 
 Wliich makes the horses run and kick, 
 By putting in an eel that's quick 
 
 i' th' belly, 
 Another which they use full oft 
 To bear their lame jades' heads aloft. 
 And beat their buttocks till they're soft 
 
 as jelly. 
 
 I told them that their wealth would rot. 
 That they by cheating men thus got, 
 But they for this same tale, would not 
 
 abide me, 
 And charged me quickly to be gone. 
 Quoth they, " Of Conscience we use none," 
 Those whom I follow with my mone 
 
 out-ride me. 
 
 From thence I stepp'd into Long Lane, 
 Where many brokers did remain, 
 To try how they would entertain 
 
 poor Conscience; 
 But my name when I to them told. 
 The women did begin to scold, 
 The men said, " They that word did hold 
 
 but nonsense." 
 
 For Conscience is so hard a word 
 That scarce the broker can afford 
 To read it, for his mouth is stored 
 with lying -,
 
 74 SONGS OF THE 
 
 He knows not what this Conscience means, 
 That is no cause unto his gains, 
 Thus I was scorned for my pains; 
 all crying, 
 
 " Away with Conscience from this lane, 
 For we his presence do disdain": — 
 They said if I came there again 
 
 among them, 
 They said they'd band me back and side; 
 Being menaced, away I hied; 
 Thus worldlings think, that when I chide, 
 
 I wrong them. 
 
 Among the butchers then went I; 
 As soon as e'er they did me spy, 
 They threaten'd me most spitefully 
 
 to kill me; 
 Quoth one, " If Conscience here should dwell 
 We were not able to live well, 
 Nor could we gain by the meat we sell; — 
 
 nor will we 
 
 Be bound to follow Conscience nice, 
 Wliich would confine us to a price; 
 Robin, be rul'd by my advice, 
 
 (quoth he then) 
 And get thee to some other place; 
 We hate to look thee in the face:" 
 I, hearing this, from them a-pace 
 
 did flee then.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 75 
 
 To Newgate market went I then, 
 Wliere comitiy-women, maids, and men, 
 Were selling needl'ul things; and when 
 
 they saw me, 
 At me the butter-woman rails 
 Whose butter weigh'd not down the scales; 
 Another comes, and with her nails 
 
 did claw me. 
 
 The bakers which stood in a row, 
 Began to brawl at me also, 
 And charged me away to go, 
 
 because I 
 Told them they did make lesser bread; — 
 Did not the laws put them in dread; — 
 There's some of them would wish them dead, 
 
 might laws die. 
 
 Thus chid of them, my way I took 
 Unto Pye-corner, where a cook 
 Glanc'd at me as the devil did look 
 
 o'er Lincoln. 
 " Conscience," quoth he, " thou shew'st not wit 
 In coming to this place unfit; 
 I'll run thee thorow with a spit; 
 
 then think on 
 
 Those words to thee which I have said, 
 I cannot well live by my trade. 
 If I should stiU require thy aid 
 in selling:
 
 76 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Sometimes one joint I must roast thrice 
 Ere I can sell it at my price; 
 Then here's for thee (who art so nice) 
 No dwelling." 
 
 Perforce he drove me backward still, 
 
 Until I came tmto Snow -hill; 
 
 The sale-men there, with voices shrill 
 
 fell on me. 
 I was so irksome in their sight, 
 That they conjured me to flight, 
 Or else they swore, (such was their spight) 
 
 " They'd stone me." 
 
 At Turn-again Lane the fish-wives there 
 
 And wenches did so rail and swear, 
 
 Quoth they, " No Conscience shall come here, 
 
 we hate him;" 
 Their bodges which for half-pecks go 
 They vowed at my head to throw ; 
 No Conscience they were bred to know, 
 
 but prating. 
 
 Away thus frighted by these scolds, 
 
 To Fleet Street straight my love it holds, 
 
 Where men whose tongues were made in moulds 
 
 of flattery. 
 Did cry, "What lack you, countryman?" 
 But seeing me away they ran, 
 As though the enemy had began 
 
 his battery.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 77 
 
 One said to others, " Sir, ill news. 
 Here Conscience comes us to abuse, 
 Let us his presence all refuse 
 
 together, 
 And boldly stand against him all ; 
 We ne'er had use of him, nor shall 
 He live with us; — what chance did call 
 
 him hither?" 
 
 The haberdashers that sell hats 
 Hit Robin Conscience many pats, 
 And like a company of cats 
 
 they scratch'd him; 
 Quoth they, " Why com'st thou unto us? 
 We love not Conscience," rufing thus. 
 They gave him words opprobrious, 
 
 and match'd him. 
 
 The mercers and silk-men also. 
 
 That live in Paternoster Row, 
 
 Their hate against poor Conscience show, 
 
 and when I 
 Came to that place they all did set 
 On me, 'cause I their gain would let, 
 Wlio will both sweai' and lie to get 
 
 one penny. 
 
 From thence unto Cheapside I past, 
 Where words in vain I long did waste, 
 Out of the place I soon was chas'd ; 
 quoth one man,
 
 78 SONGS OF THE 
 
 " Conscience, for thy presumption base, 
 Intruding to this golden place, 
 Thou death deserv'st, therefore a-pace 
 begone man ! 
 
 Think'st thou that we have so much gold 
 Before our eyes still to behold, 
 Will this by Conscience be controll'd 
 
 and curbed; 
 Oh! no, poor fellow, haste away, 
 For if long in this place thou stay. 
 Thou shalt be (I'll be bold to say) 
 
 disturbed." 
 
 From thence I turned down Bread Street, 
 A cheese-monger I there did meet. 
 He hied away with winged feet 
 
 to shun me; 
 " How now," quoth I, "Avhy run ye so?" 
 Quoth he, " Because I well do know 
 Tliat thou art Conscience my old foe; — 
 
 thou'st done me 
 
 Great wrong: while I made use of thee. 
 And dealt with all men honestly, 
 A rich man I could never be; 
 
 but since then 
 I banish'd have thy company, 
 And us'd deceit with those that buy, 
 I thrive, and therefore, Robin, hie 
 
 thee hence then."
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 79 
 
 I left him with his bad intent, 
 
 And unto Fish Street straight I went, 
 
 Among those lads who wish that Lent 
 
 were aU year, 
 As soon as e'er they me espy'd, 
 They all at once upon me cry'd, 
 And swore that " Conscience shoiild not guide 
 
 a stall there." 
 
 I seeing things thus seeming strange 
 That all men did from goodness range. 
 Did hie me straight to the Exchange. 
 
 A merchant 
 Was so affrighted when I came, 
 That presently he blush'd for shame, 
 His countenance did show the same 
 in searchant. 
 
 Quoth he, " Friend Robin, what dost thou 
 Here among us merchants now? 
 Our business will not allow 
 
 to use thee; 
 For we have tratfic without thee. 
 And thrive best if thou absent be; — 
 I for my part will utterly 
 
 refuse thee." 
 
 Now I, being thus abus'd below. 
 Did walk up stairs, where on a row 
 Brave shops of ware did make; a show 
 most sumptuous.
 
 80 SONGS OF THE 
 
 But, when the shop-folk me did spy, 
 They drew their dark light instantly, 
 And said, in coming there, was I 
 presumptuous. 
 
 The gallant girls that there sold kna,cks 
 Wliieh ladies and brave women lacks. 
 When they did see me, they did wax 
 
 in choler. 
 Quoth they, " we ne'er knew Conscience yet, 
 And, if he comes our gains to let. 
 We'll banish him; he'll here not get 
 
 one scholar." 
 
 I, being jeered thus and scorn'd. 
 
 Went down the stairs, and sorely mourn'd 
 
 To think that I shoidd thus be turn'd 
 
 a begging. 
 To Grace-church-street I went along. 
 Where dwell a great ungracious throng, 
 That will deceive both old and young 
 
 As drapers, poulterers, and such 
 \VTio think they never get too much; 
 The word Conscience to them is Dutch, 
 
 or Spanish; 
 And harder too, for speech they'll leam, 
 With all their heart, to serve their turn, 
 But Conscience, when they him discern, 
 
 they banish.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 81 
 
 I, seeing all the city given 
 
 To use deceit, in spight of heaven, 
 
 To leave their company I was driven 
 
 perforce then; 
 So over London bridge in haste, 
 I, — hiss'd and scoiF'd of all men, — past; 
 Then I to Southwark took, at last, 
 
 my course then. 
 
 When I came there, I hoped to find 
 Welcome according to my mind; 
 But they are rather more unkind 
 
 than London. 
 All sorts of men and women, there, 
 Ask'd how I durst to them appear. 
 And swore my presence they would clear 
 
 abandon. 
 
 Then I, being sore athii'st, did go 
 Into an alehouse in the Row, 
 Meaning a penny to bestow 
 
 on strong beer; 
 But, 'cause I for a quai't did call. 
 My hostess swore, " she'd bring me small, 
 Or else I should have none at all." 
 
 Thus wrong'd there, 
 
 I bade her on her licence look, 
 
 " Oh sir," quoth she, " ye are mistook, 
 
 I have a lesson without book 
 
 most perfect: g
 
 82 SONGS OF THE 
 
 If I my licence should observe, 
 Aiid not in any point to swerve, 
 Both I and mine, alas ! should starve, 
 not surfeit. 
 
 " Instead of a quai"t-pot of pewter, 
 I fill small jugs, and need no tutor; 
 I quart'ridge give to the geometer* 
 
 most duly; 
 And he will see, and yet be blind; 
 A knave, made much of, will be kind, 
 If you be one, sir, tell your mind 
 
 most truly." 
 
 " No, no," quoth I, "I am no knave. 
 No fellowship with such I have; 
 My name is Robin Conscience, brave, 
 
 that wander 
 From place to place, in hope that some 
 Will as a servant give me room; 
 But all abuse me, where I come, 
 
 with slander." 
 
 Now, when my hostess heard me tell 
 My name, she swore " I should not dwell 
 With her, for I would make her sell 
 full measure." 
 
 Tlie ganger.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 88 
 
 She did conjure me to depai't; 
 " Hang Conscience," quoth she, " give me art 
 I have not got, by a penny a quart, 
 my treasure." — 
 
 So out of doors I went with speed. 
 And glad she was to be thus freed 
 Of Conscience, that she thence might speed 
 
 in frothing. 
 To the King's Bench I needs would go; 
 The jailor did me backward throw: 
 Quoth he, " For Conscience here ye know 
 
 is nothing." 
 
 Through Blackman Street I went, where whores 
 Stood gazing, there at many doors, — 
 There two or three bawds against me roars 
 
 most loudly: 
 And bade me to get thence apace, 
 Or else they'd claw me by the face; 
 They swore they scorn'd me and all grace. 
 
 Most proudly 
 
 I walk'd into St. George's field, 
 Where rooking rascals I beheld. 
 That aU the year their hopes did build 
 
 on cheating; 
 They were close playing at nine pins, — 
 I came and told them of their sins. 
 Then one among tlie rest begins, 
 
 intrcatinji G 2
 
 84 SONGS OF THE 
 
 That I would not torment them so. — 
 
 I told them that I would not go: 
 
 " Wliy then," quoth he, " HI let thee know 
 
 we care not; 
 And yet we'll banish thee perforce." 
 Then he began to swear and curse; 
 And said, " Prate on till thou art hoarse, 
 
 and spare not." 
 
 I left them in their wickedness, 
 And went along in great distress, 
 Bewailing of my bad success 
 
 and speed. 
 A windmill standing there hard by, 
 Towards the same then passed I, 
 But when the miUer did me spy, 
 
 he ciyed, 
 
 " Away with Conscience, I'U none such, 
 That dweU with honesty so much, 
 I shall not quickly fiU my hutch 
 
 by due toll; 
 But must, for every bushel of meal 
 A peck, if not three gallons, steal; 
 Therefore with thee I will not deal, 
 
 thou true soul." 
 
 Then leaving cities, skirts and all, 
 Where my welcome it was but small, 
 I went to try what would befall 
 i' th' country.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 85 
 
 There thought I to be entertain'd 
 But I was likewise there disdain'd, 
 As long as bootless I complain'd 
 to th' gentry. 
 
 And yet no service could I have; 
 Yet, if I would have play'd the knave, 
 I might have had maintainance brave 
 
 among them. 
 Because that 1 was Conscience poor, 
 Alas! they thrust me out of door, — 
 For Conscience many of them swore 
 
 did wrong them. 
 
 Then went I to the yeomanry, 
 And farmers all of the country, 
 Desiring them most heartily 
 
 to take me: 
 I told them I would sell theii" corn 
 Unto the poor; but they did turn 
 Me out of doors, and with great scorn 
 
 foi'sake me. 
 
 One said, " He had no use of me 
 To sell his corn; for, I (quoth he) 
 Must not be only rul'd by thee 
 
 in selling. 
 If I shall Conscience entertain, 
 He'd make me live in crossing gain, — 
 Here is for thee, I tell thee plain, 
 
 no dwelling."
 
 86 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Thus from the rich men of the worUl 
 Poor Conscience up and down is hurl'd;- 
 Like angry curs at me they snarl'd, 
 
 and check'd me. 
 Alas! what shall I do? thought I. 
 Poor Robin, must I starve and die? 
 Aye, that I must, if nobody 
 
 respect me. 
 
 At last I to myself bethought 
 
 AVliere I must go, and heaven brought 
 
 Me to a place where poor folks wrought 
 
 most sorely; 
 And there they entertained me well, 
 With whom I ever mean to dwell, 
 With them to stay it thus befel, 
 
 though poorly. 
 
 Thus people that do labour hard 
 Have Robin Conscience in regard. 
 For which they shall have their reward 
 
 in heaven; 
 For all their sorrows here on earth. 
 They shall be fiUed with true mirth, — 
 Crowns shall to them at second birth 
 
 be given. 
 
 And all these caitiffs that deny'd 
 To entertain him for their guide. 
 When they by Conscience shall be tried 
 and judged.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 87 
 
 Then will they wish that they had us'd 
 Poor Conscience, whom they have refus'd, — 
 Wliose company they have abus'd 
 and grudged. 
 
 Thus Robin Conscience, that hath had, 
 Amongst most men a welcome bad, 
 He now hath found to make him glad, 
 
 abiding 
 'Mong honest folks that hath no lands, 
 But get their living with their hands, 
 These are the friends that to him stands 
 
 and's guiding. 
 
 These still keep Conscience from grim death. 
 And ne'er gainsay what'er he saith; 
 These lead their lives so here beneath, 
 
 that dying. 
 They may ascend from poverty 
 To glory and great dignity, 
 Where they shall live and never die; 
 
 w hile frying 
 
 In hell the wicked lie, who would 
 
 Not use true Conscience as they shoidd. 
 
 This is but for a moral told 
 
 you; in it 
 He that observes may somewhat spy 
 That savours of divinity, — 
 For conscionable folks do 1 
 
 begin it.
 
 88 80NGS OF THE 
 
 And so I'll bring all to an end: — 
 
 It can no honest man offend, 
 
 For those that Conscience do defend, 
 
 it praises. 
 And if that any gall'd jade kick, 
 The author liath devis'd a trick, 
 To turn him loose, i' th' fields to pick 
 
 up daisies. 
 
 A DIALOGUE BETWIXT TOM AND DICK : 
 
 THE FORMER A COUNTRYMAN, THE OTHER A CITIZEN, PRE- 
 SENTED TO HIS EXCELLENCY AT THE COUNCIL OF STATE, 
 drapers' hall, in LONDON, MARCH 28, 1660. 
 
 To the Tune of " I'll never love thee more." 
 
 The tune of " I'll never love thee more" is found in " The 
 English Dancing Master," 4to. 1651, and in at least ten more 
 editions of the same work. " I'll never love thee more" is the 
 burden of the Marquess of Montrose's celebrated song, begin- 
 ning " My dear and only love, I pray," which is reprinted in 
 Evans' Collection of Old Ballads, 8vo. 1810. The following 
 ballad, from a broadside in the collection in the British Museum, 
 in three volumes, folio, under the press-mark 643m, is a loyalist 
 effusion, made immediately prior to the restoration of Charles II, 
 when General Monk, the " George" so vaunted by Dick in every 
 stanza, was in the height of his popularity. In the previous 
 year, the citizens, uncertain whether to side with the parhament 
 or make a stand against it, and greatly apprehensive of a civil 
 war, declined for a time to declare either for the parliament or 
 the army. The apprentices, however, were more decided in their 
 opinions, and assembled in great numbers about the doors of the 
 House of Commons, and in the streets of the city, declaring that
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 89 
 
 they would have a free parliament. Colonel Hughson marched 
 against them with a company of troops, and a conflict ensued, in 
 which several of the apprentices were slain. The proceeding- 
 was very unpopidar in the city, and a violent outcry was raised 
 against the army. The Committee of Safety afterwards apphed 
 to the city for a loan, which was denied, the citizens at the same 
 time boldly objecting to their authority, and declaring their in- 
 tention to submit to no imposition that was not commanded by a 
 freely chosen parliament. General Monk was immediately 
 ordered to march into the city and reduce it to obedience. He 
 posted regiments at all the gates, — the posts and chains were pulled 
 down, — the portcullises at Bishopsgate, Cripplegate, and Aldgate 
 taken away, and the other gates taken off' and their hinges 
 destroyed. Eight members of the Common Council and two 
 aldermen were also made prisoners, together with a great number 
 of apprentices and other riotous young men. Monk afterwards 
 saw reason to regret his severity against the city, and mistrusting 
 the parliament, in whose name he had acted, he thought it pru- 
 dent, in the interest of the king, to make peace again with the 
 Londoners. Having drawn up his army in Finsbury Fields, he 
 sent a message to the Lord Mayor, in which he expressed his 
 sorrow for what he had done to the prejudice of the city, and 
 desired the favour of a conference with his lordship and the 
 Common Council, that he might make reparation for his late 
 error. They met accordingly, and the result was that friendship 
 was sworn between them, and the doom of the famous, or in- 
 famous. Hump Parhament was sealed. " This coalition," says 
 Entick, in his History of London, vol. ii. p. 240, " was no 
 sooner published in the city but an universal joy and rejoicing 
 spread over all, vnth ringing of bells, acclamations, bonfires, and 
 illuminations. At the same time they breathed out the most 
 contemptible tokens and signs of scorn and ridicide against the 
 parliament. There was scarce a bonfire where a rump was not 
 roasted, or something I'esembling a rump, to celebrate the par- 
 liament's funeral obsecpiies." Monk was now as popular in the 
 city as he was formerly detested ; and between this time and the 
 return of Charles II, was a frequent visitor to one or other of the 
 city halls, to deliberate with the lord mayor and corporation 
 upon the exigencies of the times. Maitland says, book i. p. 285, 
 that " at this time strong nightly guai'ds were kept in the city,
 
 90 SONGS OF THE 
 
 with the chains drawn across the streets till the morning ; and 
 by day frequent entertainments were made by the several com- 
 panies at their halls for regaling the Council of State, the general 
 (Monk), and his principal officers. The entertainment, com- 
 memorated in the title of the following ballad, took place only 
 seventeen days before the celebrated letter of Charles II was 
 written to the citizens from Breda. 
 
 Tom. Now would I give my life to see 
 This wondrous man of might, 
 Dick, dost thou see that jolly lad? That's he, 
 
 I'le warrant him he's right. 
 There's a trtie Trojan in his face; 
 Observe him o'er and o'er. 
 Dick. Come, Tom, if ever George be base "j 
 Ne're trust good feUow more. j 
 
 He's none of that phantastique brood 
 
 That murther while they pray; 
 That trusse and cheat us, for om* good, 
 
 (All in a godly way); 
 He drinkes no bloud, and they no sack 
 
 Into their gutts will poure, 
 But if George does not do the knack, ^ 
 
 Ne're trust good feUow more. / 
 
 His quiet conscience needs no guard, 
 He's brave, but full of pitty. 
 Tom. Yet, by your leave, he knock'd so hard, 
 H'ad like t'a^vak'd the city.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. !)T 
 
 Dick. Foole, 'twas the Rump that let a f — t, 
 
 The chaynes and gates it tore, 
 
 But if George bears not a true heart, , 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Ne're trust good fellow more. 
 
 ,rt, I 
 
 Tom. Your city-blades are cunning rookes, 
 How rarely you collogue him! 
 But when your gates flew off the hookes, 
 You did as much be-rogue him. 
 Dick. Pugh — 'twas the Rump did onely feele, 
 The blowes the city bore; 
 But if George be'ut as true as Steele 
 Ne're trust good fellow more. 
 
 > Chorus. 
 
 Dick. Come, by this hand, we'll crack a quart, 
 
 Thou'U pledge his health, I trow: 
 Tom. Tope, boy! Dick — A lusty dish my heart, 
 
 Away wi't ! Tom — Let it go. 
 Drench me your slave in a full bowle, 
 
 I'll take 't an 'twere a score. 
 Dick. Nay, if George be'nt a hearty soule, ^ 
 
 Ne're trust good fellow more. J 
 
 Tom. But heark you, sirrah, we're too loud, 
 
 He'll hang us by and by. 
 Methinks, he should be vengeance proud? 
 Dick. No more than thou or I. 
 Tom. Why, then, I'le give him the best blade 
 
 That e'er the Bilbo wore. 
 
 Dick. If George prove not a bonny lad, i 
 
 TV- , , r. 1. Chorus. 
 
 JNere trust good lellow more. )
 
 92 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Tom. 'Twas well he came, we'd mawll'd the tayle 
 We've all throwne up our fannes; 
 And from the musket to the flayle 
 
 Put all oui* men in armes. 
 The gii'les had ta'ne the Members down 
 Ne're saw such things before. 
 Dick. K George speak not the town our owne, 
 Ne're trust good fellow more. 
 
 Dick. But, prethee, are the folks so mad — 
 
 Tom. So mad, say'st, — They're undone, 
 
 There's not a penny to be had; 
 
 And ev'ry mother's sonne 
 Must fight if he intend to eate. 
 Grow valliant now he is poore. 
 Dick. Come — yet if George don't do the feate, 
 Ne're trust good fellow more. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Tom. Why, Richard, 'tis a devilish thing, 
 We're not left worth a gi-oate. 
 My Doll has sold her wedding ring, 
 
 And Sixe has pawn'd her coate. 
 The sniv'ling rogues abus'd our squire. 
 And call'd his mistresse whore. 
 Dick. Yet — if George don't what we desire, 
 
 TVT 5 1 f. n ' Chorus. 
 
 Nere trust good leLlow more. 
 
 re, I 
 
 Tom. By this good day; I did but speak. 
 They took my py-baU'd mare; 
 And put the carrion Avench to th' squeak, 
 (Things go against the hair).
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 93 
 
 Our prick-ear'd cor'nell looks as bigg' 
 Still as he did before. 
 Dick. And yet if George do'nt humme his gigg, 
 Ne're trust good fellow more. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Faith, Tom; our case is much at one; 
 
 We're broke for want of trade ; 
 Our city's baffled, and undone. 
 
 Betwixt the Rump and blade. 
 We've emptied both our veines and baggs 
 
 Upon a factious score : 
 If George compassion not our raggs ~i 
 
 Ne're trust good fellow more. j 
 
 Tom. But what dost think should be the cause 
 
 Whence all these mischiefs spring? 
 Dick. Our damned breach of oaths and lawes. 
 Our murther of the king. 
 We have been slaves since Charles his reign, 
 
 We liv'd like lords before. 
 If George do'nt set all right again, ) 
 
 • yJhoTHS. 
 
 Ne're trust good fellow more. j 
 
 Tom. Our vicar — (and he's one that knows) 
 
 Told me once — I know what; — 
 
 (And yet the thief is woundy close). 
 
 Dick. 'Tis all the better; — That 
 
 Has too much honesty and witt 
 
 To let his tongue runne o'er; 
 
 If this prove not a lucky hit, ) ^, 
 ^T , n ( Chorus. 
 
 Ne re trust good fellow more, j
 
 94 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Shall's ask liim, what lie means to doe? 
 Tom. Good faith, with all my heart; 
 
 Thou mak'st the better leg o' th' two; 
 
 Take thou the better part. 
 I'll follow, if thoii'lt lead the van. 
 Dick. Content — I'll march before. 
 
 If George prove not a gallant man, ") 
 Ne re trust good fellow more. ) 
 
 My Lord — in us the nation craves, 
 But Avhat you're bound to doe. 
 Tom. We have liv'd drudges; Dick. — And we slaves; 
 Both. We would not die so too. 
 
 Restore us but our lawes agen: \ 
 
 Th'unborn shall thee adore; 
 If George denies us his Amen, 
 Ne're trust good fellow more. 
 
 A BALLAD IN PRAISE OF LONDON PRENTICES 
 
 AND WHAT THEY DID AT THE COCKPIT! 
 
 PLAY-HOUSE, IN DRURY LANE. 
 
 The London pi-entices, at the time of the Revolution, laid claim 
 not only to great valoiu' but to great piety. " On Shrove Tues- 
 day, March 4th, 1617," says Mr. J. P. Collier, in his "History 
 of English Dramatic Poetry and Annals of the Stage," vol. i. 
 p. 401 ; " some riots occurred in Lincobi's Inn Fields (then an 
 open space unoccupied by houses) and in Drury Lane, where the 
 mob, among whom the apprentices appear, as usual, to have been 
 especially active, made an attack upon the Cockpit Theatre. 
 Camden, in his Annals, states that they pulled it down and
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 95 
 
 destroyed the wardrobe ; but accordino- to the account of this 
 circumstance in the Privy Council Register, which was draM^n up 
 on the following day, the mob only attempted to pull it down. 
 However there is no doubt they did considerable damage, and 
 that several lives were lost in the fray. The apprentices of 
 London from time immemorial had claimed, or at least exercised, 
 the right of attacking and demolishing houses of ill fame on Shrove 
 Tuesday ; and, in this instance, they carried their zeal for morals 
 a degree farther." In the Collection of Ballads in the British 
 Museum, which will be found under the press-mark 643m, there 
 are two or three other ballads relating to the demolition of the 
 houses of ill-fame by the apprentices, and the complaints made 
 by their frail tenants of the rigid righteousness of the young- 
 men, but they are too gross for publication. 
 
 The Prentices of London long- 
 Have famous been in story, 
 
 But now they are exceeding all 
 Their chronicles of glory: 
 
 Looke backe, some say, to other day, 
 But I say looke before ye, 
 
 And see the deed they have now done, 
 Tom Brent and Johnny Cory. 
 
 Tom Brent said then to his merry men, 
 
 " Now whoop my men and hollow, 
 And to the Cockpitt let us goe, — 
 
 rU lead you like brave Rollow." 
 Then Johnny Corry answered straight, 
 
 In words much like Apollo; 
 "Lead, Tommy Brent, incontinent. 
 
 And we'll be sure to follow."
 
 96 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Thi'ee score of these brave prentices, 
 
 All fit for workes of wonder, 
 Rush'd down the plaine of Drury Lane, 
 
 Like lightning and like thunder: 
 And there each dore, with hundreds more, 
 
 And windows burst asunder; 
 And to the tire-howse broke they in, 
 
 Which some began to plunder. 
 
 " Now hold your handes, my merry men," 
 
 Said Tom; "for I assure ye, 
 Who so begin to steale shall win 
 
 Mee both for judge and jury: 
 And eke for executioner. 
 
 Within this lane of Drury; 
 But teare and rend, I'U stand your frend, 
 
 And will uphold your fury." 
 
 King Priam's robes were soon in rags, 
 
 And broke his gilded scepter; 
 False Cressid's hood, that was so good 
 
 When loving Troylus kept her: 
 Besse Brydges gowne, and Muli's crowne. 
 
 Who would ful faine have lept her: 
 Had Theseus scene them use his queene 
 
 So ill, he had bewept her. 
 
 Books old and young on heap they flung, 
 And burnt them in the blazes, — 
 
 Tom Dekker, Haywood, IVIiddleton, 
 And other wand'ring crayzes.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 97 
 
 Poor Daye that daye not scapte awaye; 
 
 And what still more amazes, 
 Immortall Cracke* was burnt all blacke, 
 
 Which every bodie praises. 
 
 Now sing we laude with one accord, 
 
 To these most digni laude. 
 Who thus intend to bring to end 
 
 All that is vile and bawdie; 
 All players and whores thrust out a' dores, 
 
 Seductive both and gawdie. 
 And praise we these bold prentices 
 
 Cum voce et cum corde. 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF THE TWO LADIES OF 
 
 FINSBURY, THAT GAVE MOORFIELDS TO THE 
 
 CITY, FOR THE MAIDENS OF LONDON 
 
 TO DRY CLOATHS. 
 
 To the Tune of " Wliere is my true love." 
 
 From the " Crown Garland of Golden Roses." The ballad is 
 also inserted in Evans' Collection, vol. iii. p. 318. 
 
 You gallant London damsels. 
 Awhile to me give ear, 
 
 * " Regarding this person, or play," says Mr. Collier, "which- 
 ever it might be, I can give no information."
 
 98 SONGS OF THE 
 
 And be you well contented 
 
 With what you now shall hear. 
 
 The deeds of two kind ladies 
 Before you shall appear; — 
 
 Oh maidens of London so fair! 
 
 At Finsbury there dwelled 
 
 A noble gallant knight, 
 That for the love of Jesus Christ 
 
 Desired for to fight: 
 And so unto Jerusalem 
 
 He went in armour bright. 
 Oh maidens of London so fair! 
 
 And charged both his daughters 
 
 Unmarried to remain, 
 TiU lie from blessed Palestine 
 
 Returned back again: 
 And then two loving husbands 
 
 For them he woidd attain; 
 Oh maidens of London so fair! 
 
 "When he was gone from fair England 
 A knight of Rhodes to be. 
 
 His daughters they were well content, 
 Though born of good degree. 
 
 To keep themselves in mean estate 
 Of living orderly; — 
 
 Oh maidens of London so fair!
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 9.0 
 
 The eldest of the two was nam'd 
 
 Fair Maiy, as is said, 
 Wlio made a secret vow to God 
 
 To live and die a maid ; 
 And so a true professed nun 
 
 Herself with speed array'd, — 
 Oh maidens of London so fair! 
 
 Her garments were of mourning black, 
 
 Befitting her desires, 
 WTiere at the house of Bethlehem 
 
 The abbess she requires, 
 An entertainment to be made 
 
 To their melodious quires; — 
 Oh sweet singing maids so fair! 
 
 Where in the nunnery she remained 
 
 Beloved many a year, 
 Still spending day and night in prayers 
 
 For her old father dear, — 
 Refusing worldly vanities 
 
 With joy and pleasant cheer; — 
 Oh heavenly blest maidens so fair! 
 
 And in the name of Jesus Christ 
 
 A holy cross did build, 
 Which some have seen at Bedlam-gate, 
 
 Adjoining to Moorfield: 
 These be the blessed springing fruits 
 
 That chastity doth yield; — 
 Oh maidens of London so iairl u 2
 
 100 SONGS OF THE 
 
 " K that England's great royal queen 
 I should be made," quoth she, 
 
 " Not half so well contented then, 
 Good ladies should I be; 
 
 There is no life that's half so sweet 
 As virgin life, I see:" 
 
 Oh maidens of London so fair ! 
 
 " Nor will I taste the joys of love 
 
 Belong to marriage bed. 
 Nor to a king consent to yield 
 
 My blooming maidenhead. 
 Till from my father I do hear 
 
 To be alive or dead;" 
 Oh maidens of London so fair! 
 
 So virgin-like she spent her days 
 About this pleasant spring. 
 
 And us'd herself from time to time 
 Upright in every thing; 
 
 Which caused the ladies of this land 
 Her noble praise to sing; — 
 
 Oh maidens of London so fair! 
 
 The younger of the sisters, nam'd 
 Dame Annis, fair and clear, 
 
 Who framed there a pleasant well, 
 By her esteemed dear; 
 
 Where wives and maidens daily came 
 To wash, from far and near; 
 
 Oh heaven -blest maidens so fair!
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 1 01 
 
 In it were all her earthly joys, 
 
 Her comfort and delight; 
 About the same remaining still 
 
 With pleasure day and night, 
 As glorious as the golden sun, 
 
 In aU his beams so bright; 
 Oh maidens of London so fair! 
 
 The lovely ladies of the land 
 
 Unto Dame Annis went, 
 Persuading her this single life 
 
 Was not the best content; 
 The married sort doth most commend, 
 
 Being still to pleasures bent; 
 Oh maidens of London so fair! 
 
 And daily troops of London dames 
 
 Unto her did repair. 
 With purest lawn and cambric fine 
 
 To wash both clean and fair; 
 And rich embroidered furnitures 
 
 Of child-bed linen rare; — 
 Oh maidens of London so fair! 
 
 Thus lived these two sisters here. 
 
 As you have heard it told, 
 Till time had chang'd their beauteous cheeks, 
 
 And made them wrinkled old ; 
 Then of their father news was brought 
 
 How he was wrapt in mould; — 
 Oh maidens of London so fair!
 
 102 SONGS OF THE 
 
 For the King of England soon 
 
 The Duke of Normandy, 
 Returned from Jerusalem 
 
 With fame and victory; 
 And brought their father's heai't in lead 
 
 Here buried for to be; — 
 Oh maidens of London so fair! 
 
 This heart that spilt its deai'est blood 
 For Jesus Christ in heaven, 
 
 Being thus unto his daughters twain 
 In kindness brought and given, 
 
 Was mourned for three hundred days. 
 From morning until even; 
 
 Oh maidens of London so fair! 
 
 And then with lamentations, 
 Sweet maidens, being weary, 
 
 Their aged father's noble heart 
 Most solemnly did bury; 
 
 And gave the place their father's name, 
 As says our English story: 
 
 Oh maidens of London so fair! 
 
 Old Sir John Fines he had the name. 
 Being buried in that place. 
 
 Now, since then, called Finsbmy, 
 To his renown and grace; 
 
 Wtich time to come shall not outwear, 
 Nor yet the same deface: 
 
 Oh maidens of London so fair!
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 1 03 
 
 And likewise when those maidens died, 
 
 They gave those pleasant fields 
 Unto our London citizens, 
 
 Which they most bravely build. 
 And now are made most pleasant walks. 
 
 That great contentment yield 
 To maidens of London so fair! 
 
 Where lovingly both man and wife 
 
 May take the evening air, 
 And London dames to dry their cloaths 
 
 May hither still repair; 
 For that intent most freely given, 
 
 By these two damsels fair, 
 Unto the maidens of London for ever! 
 
 A NEW SONG, ON THE INSTALMENT OF SIR 
 JOHN MOOR LORD MAYOR OF LONDON. 
 
 To the Tune of " St. George for England." 
 
 From a " Collection of One Hundred and Eighty Loyal Songs, all 
 written since 1678, and intermixed mth several new Love Songs. 
 The Fourth Edition, with many Additions. London, printed 
 and to be sold by Richard Butt, in Princess Street, in Covent 
 Garden. 1694." These loyal songs appear, from the initials 
 N. T. to the preface, to have been collected by Nathaniel Thomp- 
 son, who says that the mahce of the opposite party " swelled so 
 high against him, that he was imprisoned six times ; so that for 
 above six years he was never free from trouble, havdng seldom 
 less than three or four indictments at a session against him ; at 
 other times, informations in the Crown Office, which villainous 
 contrivances of their agents cost him at least £.i()0 in money, 
 besides the loss of his trade and reputation. The jirincipal
 
 104 SONGS OF THE 
 
 crimes alleged against him were — ' Let Oliver now be forgotten,' 
 a song ; ' A Hue and Cry after Titus Gates when turned from 
 Whitehall ;' ' The Character of an ig-noramus Doctor ;' ' A Dia- 
 logue between the Devil and the Doctor ;' and ' The Prisoners' 
 Lamentation for the Loss of Sheriff Bethel.' " 
 
 Towards the end of the reign of Eng Charles II, the more than 
 suspected popery of the king, and the avowed popery of the heir to 
 the throne, were the occasion of violent contests for all the municipal 
 offices for the city of London. Sir Patience Ward, the late lord 
 mayor, was a \'iolent enemy of the court ; and at the expiration 
 of his mayoralty, great efforts were made by the friends of the 
 king and the Duke of York, to secure sheriffs as fully attached 
 to their side as the next in rotation to the chair (Sir John Moor) 
 was known to be. The lord mayor, in accordance with an 
 ancient custom, drank to Mr. Dudley North, at the Bridge House 
 feast, by which this person was nominated as one of the sheriffs. 
 Another gentleman in the court interest, named Box, was also 
 nominated ; and two, named Papilion and Dubois, on the popular 
 side, being proposed, a hot contest for the office took place, which 
 ended, after many squabbles, in the election of the latter, — the 
 crowd follomng them, great numbers shouting " God bless the 
 protestant sheriffs — God bless Papilion and Dubois." Some dis- 
 turbance having taken place at the polling-booth. Sir John Moor 
 complained to the king and council of being jostled and insulted. 
 In consequence, the lord mayor, aldermen, and sheriffs, were 
 ordered to attend the Privy Council on the Monday following, 
 and the lord mayor having made his complaint, the late sheriffs, 
 Pilkington and Shute, and Mr. Alderman Cornish, were com- 
 mitted prisoners to the Tower, and the attorney-general was 
 ordered to prosecute with the utmost rigour of the law all persons 
 implicated in the late disturbances. Several persons were 
 arrested, whose trial came on shortly afterwards, before the 
 Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys, in the Iving's Bench, at Guildhall. 
 The following were found guilty, and fined in the imdermen- 
 tioned sums : — Alderman Cornish, the late sheriffs, and the Lord 
 Gray, were fined 1,000 marks each ; four other influential citi- 
 zens, named Pilkington, Player, Swinock, and Goodenough, 500 
 marks each ; one, named Deagle, 400 marks ; two, named Jenkes 
 and Freeman, 300 marks each ; one, named Jekyll, 200 marks ; 
 and two, named Keys and Wickham, 100 marks each.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 105 
 
 You London lads rejoyce, 
 
 And cast away your care, 
 Since with one heart and voice 
 
 Sir John is chosen Mayor; 
 The famous Sir John Moor, 
 
 Lord Mayor of London town. 
 To your eternal praise 
 
 Shall stand a suhject of renown 
 Amongst your famous worthies, 
 
 Who have been most esteem'd; 
 For Sir John, Sir John, 
 
 Your honour hath redeem'd. 
 Sir John he's for the king's right, 
 
 Wliich rebels would destroy, 
 Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy. 
 
 When with a Hide-bound mayor 
 
 The town was in distraction, 
 Sir John clapt in the chair. 
 
 And cur'd the hall of faction ; 
 He to the people shew'd 
 
 Their duty and allegiance, 
 How to the sacred king and laws 
 
 They pay their due obedience. 
 Sir George unto the people 
 
 A loyal speech did give; 
 But Sir John, Sir John, 
 
 Your honour did retrieve. 
 Sir John is for allegiance. 
 
 Which rebels would destroy. 
 Vive, Vive, Vive lo Roy.
 
 106 SONGS OF THE 
 
 When thou wast last, O London, 
 
 In faction and sedition; 
 By Whigs and zealots are xmdone, 
 
 While they were in commission; 
 Wlien treason, like Old NoU's brigade, 
 
 Did gallop through the town. 
 And loyalty (a tyr'd jade) 
 
 Had cast her rider down; 
 The famous Sir George Jeffiys 
 
 Your charter did maintain ; 
 But Sir John, Sir John, 
 
 Restor'd your fame again. 
 Sir John, he is for monarchy, 
 
 AVhich rebels would destroy. 
 Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy. 
 
 "When the mayor with sheriffs mounted, 
 
 And jealousies contriv'd. 
 And all the town run after, 
 
 As if the devil driv'd; 
 Then famous Sir John Moor 
 
 Thy loyalty restor'd. 
 And noble Sir George Jeffrys 
 
 Who did the acts record; 
 Sir George of aU the heroes 
 
 Deserves the foremost place; 
 But Sir John, Sir John, 
 
 Hath got the sword and mace; 
 Sir John, he is for justice, 
 
 Which rebels would desti'oy. 
 Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 107 
 
 Sir Patience wou'd have the court 
 
 Submit unto the city, 
 White -Hall stoop unto the Change, 
 
 And is not that a pity? 
 Sheriff Bethel (save allegiance) 
 
 Thinks nothing a transgression: 
 Sir Tom rails at the lawful prince, 
 
 Sir Bob at the succession; 
 While still the brave Sir George 
 
 Does their fury interpose. 
 But Sir John, Sir John, 
 
 Maintains the royal cause. 
 Sir John is for His Highness 
 
 Whom rebels would destroy. 
 Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy. 
 
 Sir Patience is for a parliament. 
 
 Sheriff Bethel a petition, 
 Instead of an address 
 
 Cramm'd brim full of sedition. 
 Sir Tom he is for liberty 
 
 Against prerogative; 
 Sir Bob is for the subject's right, 
 
 But will not justice give; 
 And brave Sir George does all 
 
 Their famous deeds record: 
 But Sir John, Sir John, 
 
 Your loyalty restor'd. 
 Sir John, he's for the int'rest 
 
 Which rebels woukl destroy. 
 Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy.
 
 108 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Sir Patience he calls for justice, 
 
 And then the wretch will sham us; 
 Sheriff Bethel he packs a jury 
 
 Well vers'd in ignoramus: 
 Sir Tom would hang the Tory, 
 
 And let the Wliig go free; 
 Sir Bob wou'd have a commonwealth, 
 
 And cry down monarchy. 
 While still the brave Sir George 
 
 Does all their deeds record; 
 But Sir John, Sir John, 
 
 Your loyalty restor'd; 
 Sir John he is for justice, 
 
 Which rebels would destroy. 
 Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy. 
 
 And may such loyal mayors. 
 
 As honest sheriffs find; 
 Such sheriffs find a jury 
 
 Will to the king be kind; 
 And may the king live long 
 
 To rule such people here; 
 And may ye such a Lord Mayor find 
 
 And Sheriffs every year: 
 That traytors may receive 
 
 The justice of the laws, 
 While Sir John, Sir John, 
 
 Maintains the royal cause; 
 Sir John is for the king still, 
 
 Wliom rebels would destroy. 
 Vive, Vive, Vive le Roy.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 109 
 
 LOYALTY TRIUMPHANT. 
 
 ON THE CONFIRMATION OF MR. NORTH AND MR. RICH. 
 
 Tune, — "Joy to the bridegroom." 
 
 From the same collection as the preceding, and relating to the 
 same circumstances. Mr. North and Mr. Box, the defeated can- 
 didates at the Common Hall, were returned by the lord mayor 
 to the Court of Aldermen, as the duly elected sheriffs, upon 
 pretence of the illegality of the former proceedings, already 
 alluded to. The citizens petitioned the Court of Aldermen to 
 swear in Papilion and Dvibois, the protestant sheriffs, as they 
 were called, but the aldermen refused. Mr. Box, however 
 fearing that if he served the office riots might ensue, declined, 
 and was fined the usual sum. The court party thereupon, aided 
 by the influence of the lord mayor, returned Mr. Peter Rich, 
 the person alluded to in the ballad, and he and Mr. North were 
 sworn accordingly. In Entick's " History and Survey of Lon- 
 don," vol. ii. page 316, are the following remarks relative to 
 these memorable proceedings: — "All this strife about sheriflFs, 
 was not in favour of any particular men ; the court had deep 
 views. By securing sheriffs of London in their interest, they 
 secured juries to acquit or condemn whom they pleased, — to 
 favour or ruin. Under which influence we find the juries that 
 found Lord Russell (Lord William Russell) guilty of treason; 
 that fined Alderman Pilkington £100,000, for saying 'that the 
 Duke of York had fired the city, and was now come to cut their 
 throats,' upon the information of Sir William Hooker and Sir 
 Henry Tulse, Aldermen ; and brought in Sir Patience Ward 
 guilty of perjury, because he, upon the trial of Alderman Pil- 
 kington, swore he did not hear him say the words above recited, 
 though he was present at the time Hooker and Tulse swore that 
 he said them." 
 
 Fill up the bowl, and set it round, 
 The day is won, the Sheriff's crown'd, 
 The rabble flies, the tumults yield ; 
 And loyalty maintains the field:
 
 110 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Saint George for England, then amain 
 To royal James the ocean drain. 
 
 With justice may it ever flow, 
 
 And in an endless circle go; 
 
 The brim with conqu'ring bays be crown'd, 
 
 And faction in the di'egs be drown'd: 
 
 Then to the Queen and royal James 
 
 Sacrifice your flowing Thames. 
 
 Thanks to Sir John, our good Lord Mayor, 
 'Gainst Sherifis' tricks he kept the Chair; 
 The Court and City's rights maintains. 
 While head-strong faction bi-oke the reins; 
 Then to the famous Sir John Moor; 
 May after-age that name adore. 
 
 Wliat zeal (ye whigs) to the old cause, 
 Thus makes you act against the laws; 
 That none for SheriiF must contend. 
 But your old ignoramus friend ? 
 Bvit now, your hopes are all destroy'd, 
 And your twx) champions laid aside. 
 
 Is tliis your love to Church and State, 
 That no good man must serve of late, 
 Wliile you can find one fjxctious rogue 
 To sway the poll, and get the vogue; 
 By unjust means your rights you claim, 
 And lawless force maintain the same.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. Ill 
 
 But brave Sir John, while th' storms increase, 
 
 His wisdom made the tumults cease; 
 
 In spight of all illegal poU, 
 
 The routs and ryotts did control; 
 
 Whence he shall gain a lasting name, 
 
 And after-age record his fame. 
 
 Amongst the men of cliiefest worth. 
 The vote is given for loyal North: 
 
 In spight of Pilkington and Sh 
 
 Papillion, and the rabble rout. 
 Then to brave North a double dose, 
 Who the strong factions did oppose. 
 
 Now Box withdraw, Dubois contends, 
 And noble Rich the stage ascends; 
 By legal ('gainst illegal) vote, 
 The loyal Tribune they promote; 
 Then, to brave Rich a help of hand, 
 Wlio the loud tumults did withstand. 
 
 For ropes and gibbets the next year, 
 The whigs (we hope) need not despair; 
 If Rich find timber, (give them scope) 
 Brave North will never grudge them rope: 
 Then to conclude, we'll crown the bowl. 
 With a health to the king and each loyal soul.
 
 112 SONGS OF THE 
 
 LONDON'S JOY AND TRIUMPH, ON THE INSTAL- 
 MENT OF SIR WILLIAM PRITCHARD LORD 
 MAYOR OF LONDON FOR THE 
 ENSUING YEAR. 
 
 To the Tune of " Tangier March." 
 
 From the same Collection as the preceding. Sir William Prit- 
 chard succeeded Sir John Moor in the Mayoralty, and was of 
 the same political opinions as his predecessor. Many of the 
 names of the persons mentioned in the following, will be found 
 in our note to the foregoing ballad, on the installation of Sir 
 John Moor and the confirmation of Mr. North and Mr. Rich. 
 
 Let the AVhigs revile, the Tories smile, 
 
 That their business is compleated; 
 Let all rejoyce with heart and voice 
 
 That the WTiig 's at last defeated. 
 The Wliigs for loyalty so fam'd, 
 
 "With all theii* hopes are undone; 
 Since now brave Pritchard is proclaim'd 
 
 Tlie loyal Mayor of London. 
 
 Y"ou Polish brace whose brazen face 
 
 To the chair wou'd be aspiring. 
 See the rabble crowd who bawl'd so loud 
 
 Are bawk'd beyond admiring; 
 Learn in time to mitigate 
 
 Your bold tumvxltuous furies; 
 Ere you shall find you trust too late 
 
 To ignoramus juries.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 1 1 3 
 
 Let player Tom receive the doom 
 
 So long due for his cheating, 
 Who did purloin the city coin, 
 
 To keep up holy meeting; 
 To rob the orphan, and the poor, 
 
 His great discharge of trust is, 
 And run upon the widows' score. 
 
 To do the city justice. 
 
 Let Ward repent, and Jenks relent. 
 
 Their practice so malicious; 
 Let Hubbard rue, with all the crew. 
 
 That they were so officious; 
 Such Jews as these, who did deny 
 
 Their Saviour for a tester. 
 No doubt again would crucify 
 
 Their sovereign lord and master. 
 
 For North and Rich, and ev'ry such. 
 
 They set up a Papillion; 
 'Gainst Pritchard bold, with Cornish Gold, 
 
 With ryot and rebellion. 
 To love the king can you pretend, 
 
 Who RoyaUsts deny all? 
 And with such vigour dare contend 
 
 Against the man tliat's loyal. 
 
 For shame, in time repent your crime, 
 Your ryot and commotion; 
 
 I
 
 114 SONGS OF THE 
 
 And to the Mayor, who kept the chair, 
 Pay all your just devotion. 
 
 Such was their loyalty of late 
 To give the king no money; 
 
 But freely thi'ow away their plate 
 To join with rebel Toney. 
 
 Thus you before did run on score 
 
 With royal Charles, your master; 
 Like drunk or mad, spent all you had 
 
 To uphold a bold impostor. 
 Let not knaves again betray, 
 
 And rob you of your reason ; 
 Then leave your factious heads to pay 
 
 Tlie forfeit of your treason. 
 
 With all your heat what did you get? 
 
 With all yoiu- did ann quarter;* 
 But to involve with each resolve 
 
 The more entangled Charter? 
 To James your just allegiance give. 
 
 Your properties then plead 'em; 
 Defending the prerogative 
 
 You best protect your freedom. ~ 
 
 * The Editor is qiiite unable to explain this line. It is pro- 
 bably a misprint ; but he has in vain endeavoured to discover the 
 true reatling.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 115 
 
 LONDON'S LAMENTATION FOR THE LOSS OF 
 THEIR CHARTER. 
 
 To the Tunc of " Pakint^on's Pound." 
 
 From the same Collection as the preceding. The constant disputes 
 between the court and the citizens relative to the appointment of 
 the sheriffs, led to the well-known determination on the part of the 
 government of Charles II, to annul the charters of the city. The 
 celebrated Quo Warranto was issued by the attorney-general, 
 and the corporation was cited into the Court of King's Bench, 
 to show cause why they had so long usurped the pri\'ilege of 
 choosing their own officers. The matter being argaied, Lord 
 Chief Justice Jones pronounced judgment against the city, on 
 the 12th of Jime, 1683. The court then took the government 
 of London into its own hands. Sir William Pritchard was coo- 
 firmed in the office of lord mayor, during his Majesty's pleasure ; 
 eight aldermen in the popular interest were deprived of their 
 office, and eight others of the York faction appointed to their 
 places. Besides this, the king dismissed the then recorder. Sir 
 George Treby, and confen'ed the dignity upon Thomas Jerner, 
 whom he also knighted for the occasion. 
 
 You freemen and master, and prentices mourn, 
 For now you are left with your Cliarter forlorn; 
 Since London was London, I dare boldly say, 
 For your riots you never so dearly did pay: 
 
 In Westminster Hall 
 
 Your Dagon did fall. 
 That caus'd you to ryot and mutiny all; 
 Oh London! Oh London! thou'dst better had none, 
 Than thus with thy Charter to vie with the throne. 
 
 Oh London! Oh London! how cou'dst thou pretend 
 Against thy Defender thy crimes to defend? 
 
 i2
 
 1 ] 6 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Thy freedom and rights from kind princes did spring, 
 And yet in contempt thou withstandest thy king; 
 
 With bold brazen face, 
 
 They pleaded thy case. 
 In hopes to the Charter the king would give place : 
 Oh London ! thou'dst better no Chai-ter at all, 
 Than thus for rebellion thy Charter shou'd fall. 
 
 Since Britains to London came over to dwell, 
 You had an old Charter to buy and to sell; 
 And whilst in allegiance each honest man lives, 
 Tlien you had a Charter for Lord Mayor and Shrieves; 
 
 But when, with your pride. 
 
 You began to backslide, 
 And London by factions did run with the tide; 
 Then London, Oh London! 'tis time to withdraw, 
 Lest the flood of your factions the land over-flow. 
 
 "^'VTien faction and fury of rebels prevail'd. 
 
 When coblers were kings, and monarchs were jay I'd, 
 
 When masters in tumult their prentices led. 
 
 And the tail did begin to make war with the head; 
 
 When Thomas and Kate 
 
 Did bring in their plate, 
 T'uphold the old cause of the Rump of the state; 
 Then tell me. Oh London! I prithee now tell, 
 Hadst thou ere a Charter to fight and rebel? 
 
 "WTien zealous sham sheriffs the city oppose. 
 In spight of the Charter, the king, and the laws,
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 117 
 
 Aiid make such a ryot and rout in the town, 
 That never before such a racket was known; 
 Wlien ryoters dare 
 Ai'rest the Lord May'r, 
 And force the king's substitute out of the chair; 
 Oh London ! whose Charter is now on the lees, 
 Did your Chai'ter e'er warrant such actions as these? 
 
 Alas for the brethren! what now must they do, 
 For choosing Whig sheriffs and burgesses too? 
 The Charter with Patience is gone to the pot, 
 And the Doctor is lost in the depth of the plot: 
 
 St. Stephen his flayl 
 
 No more will prevail. 
 Nor Sir Robert's dagger, the Charter to bail; 
 Oh London ! thou'dst better have laid in the fire, 
 Then thus thy old Charter should stick in the mire. 
 
 But since with your folly, your faction and pride. 
 You sink with the Chai'ter who strove with the tide. 
 Let all the lost rivers return to the main 
 From whence they descended; they'll spring out again; 
 
 Submit to the king 
 
 In every thing. 
 Then of a new Charter, new sonnets we'll sing; 
 As London (the phoenix of England) ne'er dies, 
 80 out of the flames a now Charter will rise.
 
 118 SONGS OF THE 
 
 A NEW SONG, IN PRAISE OF THE LOYAL COM- 
 PANY OF STATIONERS, WHO, FOR THEIR 
 SINGULAR LOYALTY, OBTAINED THE FIllST 
 CHARTER OF LONDON, 1684. 
 
 To the Tune of " Winchester Wedding." 
 
 From the same Collection as the foregoing. The Stationers' 
 Company, as related in the ballad, obtained a restoration of their 
 charter, in consequence of their dutiful submission to the court. 
 The persons alluded to in the ballad by the names of Dick, Jack, 
 George, William, &c. were probably apprentices, distuiguished 
 in their day for their adherence to the popular side. 
 
 In London was such a quarter, 
 
 The like was never known, 
 About the forfeited Charter, 
 
 Betwixt the Court and the Town. 
 The masters were crowding before, 
 
 The prentices i' th' rear did fall, 
 There were a thousand and more 
 
 Attended to lead up the brawl : 
 Kit arm'd with a fork and a spade, 
 
 And Bob with a shovel and fork. 
 But Tender was for a surrender 
 
 And now it began to work. 
 
 Quoth Willy, what lose the Charter ? 
 
 I'll sooner lose my head : 
 Quoth Bob Hog, I'll die a martyr 
 
 Before that shall ever be said. 
 Quoth John, you may shut up your sliopping, 
 
 Y'oLu* Charter was all your shield,
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 119 
 
 For every seaman of Wapping 
 
 May be freeman now of the Guield, 
 
 Quoth a butcher, the beggarly French 
 Will out of our mouths eat the bread ; 
 
 But the weaver he cock'd up his beaver, 
 And valiantly march'd at the head. 
 
 But Stationers -Hall so loyal 
 
 The Charter by which they meet, 
 The gift of his Ancestors Royal, 
 
 Did humbly lay at his feet ; 
 Whose suit he so far befriendeth, 
 
 Their liberties know no bound, 
 Their Charter her Wliigs extendeth, 
 
 Thro' London, and full four miles round. 
 And now from the Bygot and Whig, 
 
 (To distinguish the good men and true), 
 The table is purg'd, and rabble 
 
 With the members excluded withdrew. 
 
 With limping Dick the zealous, 
 
 Went doting Yea and Nay, 
 And squinting Jack so zealous 
 
 Lest loyalty got the day. 
 With these Jack Thumb was reckon'd, 
 
 And hungry Will of the Wood ; 
 And Frank the first and the second. 
 
 And George that will never be good. 
 And thus they did trip it along, 
 
 Whilst William led up the brawl,
 
 120 SONGS OF THE 
 
 But Jolin did storm above any 
 To be turn'd out of the Hall. 
 
 Jack gave his right hand to Harry, 
 
 yVho almost his place had lost, 
 And swore if the day they carry. 
 
 The loyal should pay for the roast. 
 But Bob Hog who made a tryal, 
 
 And found how the jig would go, 
 Resolv'd to change sides and be loyal, 
 
 But all the Dissenters said " No:" 
 Thus whilst to the Charter or law 
 
 They would no obedience yield, 
 The glory was still, true Tory 
 
 Is master of the field. 
 
 Now to the stationers honour, 
 
 The Charter is on record ; 
 Great Charles the bountiful donor 
 
 Their franchises has restor'd ; 
 To whose everlasting glory 
 
 Thy honour will still redound ; 
 That they are the first in story. 
 
 Who London's Charter did found ; 
 Then to the brave founder a health, 
 
 Who first did our freedom create ; 
 A bumper to Charles, to the rumper 
 
 A halter, and Robin Hogs fate.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 121 
 
 THE MUG-HOUSE. 
 
 From the same Collection as the preceding. This ballad, which 
 was written prior to the year 1694, shows that the " Mug" was 
 a common party cry at least twenty-four years before the cele- 
 brated Mug-house riots, which broke out in Salisbury Court, 
 Fleet Street, and led to the death of several persons. I have 
 seen it somewhere stated, though I am not able to refer to the 
 passage, that the " mugs" out of which the poUticians of that 
 day drank their beer, were fashioned into the resemblance of 
 Lord Shaftesbury's face. It has since become a vulgar phrase, 
 to say of a man with a disagreeable countenance, that " he has an 
 ugly mug." 
 
 If sorrow the tyrant invade thy breast, 
 Draw out the foul fiend by the lug, the lug; 
 Let no thought of to-morrow disturb thy rest, 
 But dash out its brains with a mug, a mug. 
 If business unluckily go not well. 
 Let dull fools their ill fortune hug: 
 To show our aUegiance we'll go to the Bell, 
 And drown aU our cares in a mug, a mug. 
 
 K thy wife be not one of the best, the best, 
 
 Admit not a respit to think, to think; 
 
 Or the weight of thy forehead weigh down thy brcst, 
 
 Div^ert the dull demon with drink, with drink; 
 
 If thy mistress prove peevisli, and will not gee. 
 
 Ne'er pine, ne'er pine, for the sct)rnful pug; 
 
 But find out a prettier, and kinder than she; 
 
 And banish despair with a mtig, a mug.
 
 122 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Let zealots o'er coffee new plots divine, 
 And lace with fresh treasons the pagan ch'ug; 
 With loyal blood flowing in our veins, that shine 
 Like our faces, inspir'd with the mug, the mug; 
 Let sectaries dream of alarms, alarms. 
 And fools, still for new changes tug; 
 We fam'd for om- loyalty, will stand to our arms; 
 And di'ink the king's health in a mug, a mug. 
 
 Then, then to the queen, let the next advance. 
 
 With all loyal lads of true English race; 
 
 That scorn the stum'd notion of Spain and France; 
 
 Or to Burdeux or Burgundy to give place. 
 
 The flask and the bottle breed ach and gout, 
 
 AVliilst we, we all the season lie snug; 
 
 Nor Spaniard nor Florentine can vie with our stout, 
 
 And Monsieur submits to the mug, the mug. 
 
 THE COURAGIOUS ENGLISH BOYS OF SEVERAL 
 TRADES AND CALLING ; 
 
 AS WEAVERS, SHOOMAKERS, DYERS, AND HATTERS, IN CITY 
 AND COUNTRY, WHOSE RESOLUTION IS TO MARCH INTO 
 FLANDERS AFTER KING WILLIAM, TO RELIEVE THAT COUN- 
 TRY FROM THE FRENCH CRUELTY, AND FROM THENCE 
 MARCH WITH HIM TO CONQUER FRANCE. 
 
 To the Tune of " Let Csesar live long." 
 
 From a broadside in the British Museum. Licensed according to 
 Order. The song of " Let Caesar live long," with the tune, is printed
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 123 
 
 in " A Collection of One Hundred and Eighty Loyal Songs," &c. 
 12mo. 1694, 4tli edition, from which we have already and largely 
 quoted ; also in earlier editions of the same work. 
 
 Brave boys we shall soon have an army of those 
 That will both the French and the Papists oppose, 
 What tho' they do now on the Protestants frown, 
 It is not those Romans that shaU run us down; 
 For every tradesman his calling will leave. 
 And bright shining armour resolves to receive. 
 
 The Weavers they throw by their shuttle and loom, 
 Resolving to stand against treacherous Rome, 
 Whose insolent pride did their betters degrade, 
 And oftentimes proved the ruin of trade; 
 Therefore the brave Weavers will now play their part, 
 Vowing that Mounsier they'll vex to the heart. 
 
 The valiant Shoomakers in hundreds come, 
 Resolving to follow the true martial di'um. 
 With flourishing colours to enter the field. 
 Not fearing to miike the proud enemy yield. 
 The bones of St. Hugh they do now bid adieu. 
 As having a far greater work now to do. 
 
 The Butchers, the Dyers, the Hatters also. 
 With undaunted courage these valiantly go, 
 Stout lads that are season'd to laborious work. 
 Well able to fight the proud French or the Turk, 
 In glittering arms they resolve to appear. 
 To make all our enemies tremble for fear.
 
 124 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Not only in London, but every where 
 They do to the army in thousands repair, 
 The Cornwall and Devonshire boys are agreed 
 To make the proud papists in Flanders to bleed; 
 And like valiant souldiers they solemnly vow 
 To make the most insolent Catholicks bow. 
 
 The Dorset and Somerset boys too we find, 
 They are to a Protestant monarch inclin'd; 
 And at his command they will valiantly go 
 In order our enemies to overthrow. 
 They have not forgot their relations of late, 
 Who sufFer'd under a great person of state. 
 
 Through every county all over the west. 
 Their loyalty to their good king is exprest; 
 And under his banner they'll fight till they dye. 
 Or otherwise make our proud enemies flye; 
 Their cause being good, they are void of all fear. 
 Resolving to charge from the front to the rear. 
 
 'Tis very well known that they fear not the French, 
 Nor will they reth-e to give back an inch. 
 But up to the face of the enemy ride, 
 To curb and subdue their insolent pride: 
 A touch of true courage ere long they shall feel. 
 They'll chase them with swords of true temper'd 
 steel.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES, 125 
 
 Our army makes Lewis to tremble and quake, 
 He fearing that Mons we again will retake; 
 Which we are resolved this summer to do, 
 And a farther progress we still will pursue; 
 With undaunted courage, brave boys, we'll advance. 
 In order to conquer the glory of France. 
 
 Renowned King William, of conduct and skill, 
 With brave sons of thunder will follow them still; 
 Wliile drums they are beating, and trumpets do sound. 
 And cannons like thunder are tearing the ground. 
 The glory and ]jower of France we disdain. 
 King William in triumpli and glory shall reign. 
 
 From Flanders to France, boys, we soon will repair. 
 And conquer that nation, oppose us who dare. 
 Their castles, and towers, and cities subdue, 
 And make the proud Lewis submit to us too; 
 Wliilst conquering William with lawrels is crown'd. 
 His fame and his name thro' the world shall go round. 
 
 Printed for J. Blare, at the " Looldng-glass," on London Bridge.
 
 126 SONGS OF THE 
 
 THE BLACKSMITH. 
 
 From " Pills to Purge Melancholy ; or, Wit and Mirth, an An- 
 tidote against Melancholy, compounded of witty and ingenious 
 Ballads, Songs, and Catches, and other pleasant and merry 
 Poems ; the Third Edition, enlarged. London, printed by A. G. 
 and J. P. and sold by Henry Playford, near the Temple Church, 
 1682." 
 
 Of all the trades that ever I see, 
 
 Ther's none to a Blacksmith compared may be, 
 
 With so many several tools works he, 
 
 "V\Tiich nobody can deny. 
 
 The first that ever thunderbolt made 
 Was a Cyclops of the Blacksmith's trade, 
 As in a leai'ned author is said, 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 When thundering like we strike about, 
 The fire like lightning flashes out, 
 Which suddenly with water we dout, 
 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 The fairest goddess in the skies. 
 To many with Vtdcan did advise. 
 And he was a Blacksmith grave and wise, 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 Viilcan he, to do her right. 
 Did build her a town by day and by night. 
 And gave it a name which was Hammersmith hight. 
 Which nobody can deny.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 127 
 
 Vulcan further did acquaint her, 
 That a pretty estate he would appoint her, 
 And leave her Sea Coal Lane for a joynter, 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 And that no enemy might Avrong her. 
 
 He built her a fort you'd wish no stronger, 
 
 Which was in the lane of Ironmonger, 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 Smithfield he did cleanse from dirt, 
 And sure there was great reason for't. 
 For there he meant she should keep her coui't, 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 But after in a good time and tide. 
 It was by the blacksmith rectified. 
 To the honour of Edmund Ironside, 
 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 Vulcan after made a train 
 Wlierein the god of war was ta'en, 
 W^hich ever since hath been call'd Paul's Chain, 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 The common proverb, as it is read. 
 That a man must hit the nail on the head. 
 Without the Blacksmith cannot be said, 
 WTiich nobody can deny.
 
 128 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Anothei' must not be forgot, 
 And falls unto the Blacksmith's lot, 
 That a man must strike while the iron is hot. 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 Another comes in most proper and fit, 
 The Blacksmith's justice is seen in it. 
 When you give a man roast meat, and beat him with 
 the spit. Which nobody can deny. 
 
 Another comes in our Blacksmith's way, 
 When things are safe, as old wives say, 
 We have them under lock and key, 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 Another that's in the Blacksmith's books, 
 And only to him for remedy looks, 
 Is when a man's quite off the hooks, 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 Another proverb to him doth belong. 
 And therefore let's do the Blacksmith no wrong, 
 When a man's held hard to it, buckle and thong. 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 Another proverb doth make me laugh. 
 Wherein the Blacksmith may challenge half, 
 When a reason 's as plain as a pike staff, 
 Which nobody can deny.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 129 
 
 Tho' your lawyers travel both near and far, 
 And by long pleading a good cause may mar, 
 Yet your Blacksmith takes more pains at the bar. 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 Tho' your scrivener seeks to crush and to kill, 
 By his counterfeit deeds, and thereby doth ill, 
 Yet your blacksmith may fo?ye what he will, 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 Tho' your bankrupt citizens lurk in their holes, 
 And laugh at their creditors and their catchpoles. 
 Yet your Blacksmith can fetch them over the coals, 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 Though jockey in stable be never so neat. 
 To look to his nag and prescribe him his meat, 
 Yet your Blacksmith knows better how to give himaheaf, 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 If any tailor have the itch. 
 
 The Blacksmith's water as black as pitch 
 
 Will make his hands go thorough stitch, 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 There's never a slut, if filth o'ermatcli her. 
 But owes to the Blacksmith for her leacher, [her. 
 
 For without a pair of fo7iffs there's no man would touch 
 Which nobody can deny.
 
 130 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Your roaring boys who every one quails, 
 Fights, domineers, swaggers, and rails, 
 Could never yet make the smith eat his nails, 
 Wliieh nobody can deny. 
 
 If a scholar be in doubt. 
 And cannot well bring his matter about, 
 The Blacksmith can always hammer it out, 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 Now if to know him you would desire. 
 You must not scorn but rank him higher, 
 For what he gets is out of the Jire, 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 Now here's a good health to Blacksmiths all. 
 And let it go round, as round as a ball; 
 We'll drink it all off, though it costs us a fall, 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 THE BREWER. 
 
 From the same Collection as the preceding. The last stanzas 
 evidently refer to Oliver Cromwell, whose father was a brewer, 
 at Huntingdon, and appear, from the allusions to his son Richard, 
 to have been written shortly after the death of the great Pro- 
 tector, by some admirer of his principles and prowess. 
 
 Theke's many a clinching verse is made 
 In honour of the Blacksmith's trade, 
 But more of the Brewer may be said, 
 
 Which nobody can deny.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 131 
 
 I need not much of this repeat, 
 The Blacksmith cannot be complete, 
 Unless the Brewer do give him a heat, 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 When Smug unto the forge doth come, 
 Unless the Brewer doth liquor him home, 
 He'll never strike " my pot and thy pot, Tom," 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 Of all professions in the town. 
 
 The Brewer's trade hath gain'd renown, — 
 
 His liquor reacheth up to the crown, 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 Many new laws from him there did spring. 
 Of all the trades he still was their king; 
 For the Brewer had the world in a sling, 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 He scorneth all laws and marshal stops. 
 But whips an army as sound as tops, 
 And cuts off his foes as thick as hops; 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 He dives for riches down to the bottom, 
 And cries, " My masters," when he has got 'em, 
 "Let every tub stand on its own bottom;" 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 k2
 
 132 SONGS OF THE 
 
 111 warlike acts lie scorns to stoop; 
 For when his army begins to droop, 
 He draws them up as round as a hoop, 
 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 The Jewish sot, that scorns to eat 
 The flesh of swine, and Brewers' beat, — 
 'Twas the sight of his hogshead made 'em retreat, 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 Poor Jockey and his basket hilt. 
 Was beaten, and much blood was spilt, 
 And their bodies, like barrels, did run a tilt, 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 Tho' Jemmy gave the first assault, 
 The Brewer at last made him to halt, 
 And gave them what the cat left in the malt, 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 They cry'd that Antichrist came to settle 
 Religion in a cooler and a kettle ; 
 For his nose and copper were both of one mettle, 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 Some Christian kings began to quake. 
 And said with the Brewer no quarrel we'll make, 
 We'll let him alone, as he brews, let him bake; 
 Which nobody can deny.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 133 
 
 He had a strong and very stout heart, 
 And thought to be made an emperor for't, 
 But the devil put a spoke in his cart, 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 If any intended to do him disgrace, 
 His fm-y would take otF his head in the place, 
 He always did carry his furnace in liis face. 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 But yet, by the way, you must understand, 
 He kept his foes so under command, 
 That Pride could never get the upper hand, 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 He was a stout Brewer, of whom we may brag. 
 But now he is hurried away with a hag, — 
 He brews in a bottle and bakes in a bag. 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 And now may all stout soldiers say. 
 Farewell the glory of the day, 
 For the Brewer himself is tm-ned to clay, 
 Wliich nobody can deny. 
 
 Thus fell the brave brewer, the bold son of slaughter; 
 We need not to fear what shall ibUow after. 
 For he dealt all his time in fire and water. 
 Which nobody can deny.
 
 134 SONGS OF THE 
 
 And if his successor had had but his might, 
 Then we had not been in a pitiful plight, 
 But he was found many grains too light. 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 Let's leave off singing, and drink off our bub, 
 We'U call up a reckoning, and eveiy man club. 
 For I think I have told you a tale of a tub. 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 THE GOOD FELLLOWS' FROLICK: 
 OR, KENT STREET CLUBB. 
 
 From Evans' Collection of Old Ballads, Lond. 1810, vol. i. p. 162 
 
 Here is a crew of jovial blades, 
 
 That lov'd the nut-brown ale. 
 They in an alehouse chanc'd to meet, 
 
 And told a merry tale. 
 A bonny seaman was the first, 
 
 But newly come to town, 
 And swore that he his guts could burst. 
 
 With ale that was so brown. 
 
 See how the jolly carman he 
 Doth the strong liquor prize, 
 
 He so long in the alehouse sat, 
 That he drank out his eyes;
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 135 
 
 And groping to get out of door, 
 
 Sot-like, he tumbled down, 
 And there he like a madman swore 
 
 He lov'd the ale so brown. 
 
 The nimble weaver he came in, 
 
 And swore he'd have a little. 
 To drink good ale it was no sin, 
 
 Though't made him pawn his shuttle. 
 Quoth he, I am a gentleman. 
 
 No lusty country clown, 
 But yet I love with all my heart 
 
 The ale that is so brown. 
 
 Then next the blacksmith he came in, 
 
 And said, " 'Twas mighty hot;" 
 He sitting down did thus begin: 
 
 " Fair maid, bring me a pot; 
 Let it be of the very best. 
 
 That none exceeds in town, 
 I tell you true, and do not jest, 
 
 I love the ale so brown." 
 
 The prick louse tailor he came in, 
 
 Wliose tongue did run so nimble, 
 And said he would engage for drink 
 
 His bodkin and his thimble. 
 " For though with long thin jaws I look, 
 
 I value not a crown, 
 So I can have my belly full 
 
 Of ale that is so brown."
 
 136 SONGS OF THE 
 
 The lusty portei* passing by 
 
 With basket on his back, 
 He said that he was grievous dry, 
 
 And needs would pawn his sack. 
 His angry wife he did not fear. 
 
 He valued not her frown, 
 So he had that he lov'd so dear, 
 
 I mean the ale so brown. 
 
 The next that came was one of them 
 
 Was of the gentle craft, 
 And when that he was wet within. 
 
 Most heartily he laugh'd. 
 Crispin was ne'er so boon as he, 
 
 Tho' some kin to a crown, 
 And there he sat most merrily, 
 
 With ale that was so brown. 
 
 But at the last a barber, he 
 
 A mind had for to taste. 
 He called for a pint of drink, 
 
 And said he was in haste, 
 The di'ink so pleased he tarried there 
 
 Till he had lost a crown, 
 'Twas all the money he coidd spare 
 
 For ale that is so brown. 
 
 A broom-man as he passed by 
 His morning draught did lack :
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 137 
 
 Because that he no money had, 
 He pawn'd his shirt from 's back: 
 
 And said that he without a shirt 
 Would cry brooms up and down; 
 
 " But yet," quoth he, " I'll merry be 
 With ale that is so brown." 
 
 But when aU these together met, 
 
 Oh what discourse was there; — 
 'Twould make one's hair to stand on end 
 
 To hear how they did swear! 
 One was a fool and puppy dog. 
 
 The other was a clown, 
 And there they sat and swiU'd their guts 
 
 With ale that was so brown. 
 
 The landlady they did abuse, 
 
 And caUed her nasty whore; 
 Quoth she, " Do you your reckoning pay, 
 
 And get you out of door!" 
 Of them she could no money get, 
 
 Which caused her to frown; 
 But loath they were to leave behind 
 
 The ale that was so brown.
 
 138 SONGS OF THE 
 
 THE MERRY HOASTESS : 
 
 OR, 
 
 A pretty new ditty, compos'd by an hoastess that lives in the city 
 To wrong such an hoastess it were a great pity, 
 By reason she caused this pretty new ditty. 
 
 From Evans' Collection of Old Ballads, vol. i. page 150. 
 
 Come all that love good company, 
 
 And hearken to my ditty, 
 'Tis of a lovely hostess fine, 
 
 That lives in London city, 
 WTiich sells good ale, nappy and stale, 
 
 And always thus sings she, 
 My ale was tunn'd when I was young. 
 
 And a little above my knee. 
 
 Her ale is lively, strong, and stout. 
 
 If you please but to taste, 
 It is well brew'd you need not fear, 
 
 But I pray you make no waste. 
 It is lovely brown, the best in town, 
 
 And always thus sings she, 
 My ale was tunn'd when I was young, 
 
 And a little above my knee. 
 
 The gayest lady with her fan. 
 
 Doth love such nappy ale. 
 Both city maids and country girls 
 
 That carry the milking pail,
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 139 
 
 Wm take a touch, and not think much, 
 
 To sing so merrily, 
 My ale was tunn'cl when I was young, 
 
 And a little above my knee. 
 
 Both lord and squire have a desire 
 
 Unto it night and day, 
 For a quart or two, be it old or new, 
 
 And for it then will pay, 
 With pipe in hand, they may her command. 
 
 To sing right merrily, 
 My ale was tunn'd when I was young, 
 
 And a little above my knee. 
 
 You're welcome aU, brave gentlemen. 
 
 If you please to come in, 
 To take a cup I do intend. 
 
 And a health for to begin, 
 To all the merry jovial blades 
 
 That will sing for company, 
 My ale was tunn'd when I was young. 
 And a little above my knee. 
 
 Here's a health to all brave Englishmen, 
 
 That love a cup of ale, 
 Let every man fill up his can. 
 
 And see that none do fail ; 
 'Tis very good to nourish the blood, 
 
 And make you sing with me, 
 My ale was tunn'd when I was young, 
 
 And a little above my knee.
 
 140 SONGS OF THE 
 
 THE SECOND PART. 
 
 The bonny Scot will lay a plot 
 
 To get a handsome touch 
 Of this my ale so good and stale, 
 
 So wiU the cunning Dutch, 
 They wUl take a part with all theii- heart, 
 
 To sing this tune with me, 
 My ale was tunn'd when I was young, 
 
 And a little above my knee. 
 
 It will make the Irish cry " ahone!" 
 
 K they but take their fill. 
 And put them all quite out of tune. 
 
 Let them use their chiefest skill. 
 So strong and stout it wiU hold out. 
 
 In any company, — 
 For my ale was tunn'd when I was young, 
 
 And a little above my knee. 
 
 The Welshman on St. David's day. 
 
 Will cry, " Cot's plutter a nail!" 
 Hur will hur ferry quite away 
 
 From off that nappy ale; 
 It makes hm- foes with hur red nose, 
 
 Hur seldom can agree, — 
 But my ale was tunn'd when I was young. 
 
 And a little above my knee. 
 
 The Spaniard stout will have a bout, 
 For he hath store of gold,
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 141 
 
 Till at the last he is laid fast, — 
 
 My ale doth him so hold; 
 His poignard strong is laid along, 
 
 Yet he is good company, — 
 For my ale was tunn'd when I was young. 
 
 And a little above my knee. 
 
 There's never a tradesman in England 
 
 That can my ale deny, — 
 The weaver, tailor, and glover. 
 
 Delight it for to buy; 
 Small money they do take away. 
 
 If that they drink with me, — 
 For my ale was tunn'd when I was yoxnig, 
 
 And a little above my knee. 
 
 There's Smug, the honest blacksmith, 
 
 He seldom can pass by, 
 Because a spark lies in his throat. 
 
 Which makes him very dry; 
 But my old ale tells him a tale, 
 
 So finely we agree, — 
 For my ale was tunn'd when I was young. 
 
 And a little above my knee. 
 
 The brewer, baker, and butcher. 
 
 As well as all the rest. 
 Both night and day will watch where they 
 
 May find ale of the best;
 
 142 SONGS OF THE 
 
 And the gentle craft will come fuU oft, 
 
 To drink a cup with me, — 
 For my ale was tunn'd when I was young, 
 
 And a Httle above my knee. 
 
 So, to conclude, good feUows all, 
 
 I bid you all adieu; 
 If that you love a cup of ale. 
 
 Take rather old than new: 
 For if you come where I do dwell. 
 
 And chance to drink with me, — 
 My ale was tunn'd when I was young, 
 
 And a little above my knee. 
 
 THE MERCHANT TAILORS' SONG. 
 
 To the Tune of " Treason's Joy." 
 
 From the " Crown Garland of Golden Roses," where it is enti- 
 tled " A delightful Song of the four famous Feasts of England ; 
 one of them ordained by Iving Henry the Seventh to the Honour 
 of Merchant Taylors, she\ving how seven Ivings having been free 
 of that Company, and how lastly it was graced by the renowned 
 Henry of Great Britain." The ballad is also inserted in Evans' 
 Collection, vol. iii. page 44 to 50 ; and in the " History of the 
 Twelve Companies of London, by William Herbert. London, 
 1834." 
 
 Englaxd is a kingdom 
 
 Of all the world admired, 
 More stateliness in pleasures 
 
 Can no way be desired;
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 1 43 
 
 The court is full of bravery, 
 
 The city stor'd with wealth, 
 The law preserveth unity, 
 
 The country keepeth health. 
 
 Yet no like pomp and glory 
 
 Our chronicles record. 
 As four great feasts of England 
 
 Do orderly afford; 
 All others be but dinners called, 
 
 Or banquets of good sort. 
 And none but four be named feasts, 
 
 Which here I will report. 
 
 St. George our English champion. 
 
 In most delightfid sort. 
 Is celebrated year by year 
 
 In England's royal court; 
 The king with all his noble train. 
 
 In good and rich array, 
 StiU glorifies the festival 
 
 Of great St. George's day. 
 
 The honoured Mayor of London 
 
 The second feast ordains, 
 By which the worthy citizen 
 
 Much commendation gains; 
 For lords and judges of the land, 
 
 And knights of good request, 
 To GuikUiaU come to countenance 
 
 Lord Mayor of London's feast.
 
 144 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Also the sergeants of the law 
 
 Another feast aifords, 
 AVith grace and honour glorified 
 
 By England's noble lords; 
 And this we call the sergeant's feast, 
 
 A third in name and place, 
 But yet there is a fourth likewise 
 
 Deserves a gallant grace. 
 
 The Merchant Tailor's company, 
 
 The fellowship of fame, 
 To London's lasting dignity 
 
 Lives honour'd with the same; 
 A gift King Henry the Seventh gave. 
 
 Kept once in three years still, 
 Wliere gold and gowns be to poor men 
 
 Given by King Henry's will. 
 
 Full many a good fat buck he sent, 
 
 The fairest and the best 
 The king's large forests can afford. 
 
 To grace this worthy feast; 
 A feast that makes the number just 
 
 And last account of four. 
 Therefore let England thus record 
 
 Of feasts there be no more. 
 
 Then let all London companies. 
 
 So highly in renown, 
 Give Merchant Tailor's name and fame 
 
 To wear the laurel crown;
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 1 45 
 
 For seven of England's royal kings 
 
 Thereof have all been free, 
 And with their loves and favours graced 
 
 This worthy company. 
 
 King Richard once, the second name, 
 
 Unhappy in his fall, 
 Of all his race of royal kings 
 
 Was freeman first of all ; 
 Bullingbrook, fourth Henry, next, 
 
 By order him succeeds, 
 To gloryfie his brotherhood 
 
 By many princely deeds. 
 
 Fift Henry, which so valiantly 
 
 Deserved fame in France, 
 Became free of this company, 
 
 Fair London to advance; 
 Sixt Henry, the next in reign, 
 
 Though luckless in his dayes. 
 Of Merchant Tailors freeman was. 
 
 To their eternal praise. 
 
 Fourth Edward, that most worthy king, 
 
 Beloved of great and small, 
 Also performed a freeman's love 
 
 In this renowned hall; 
 Third Richard, which by cruelty, 
 
 Brought England many woes, 
 Unto this worthy company 
 
 No little favour shews. ^
 
 146 SONGS OF THE 
 
 But richest favours yet at last 
 
 Proceeded from a king 
 Whose kingdom round about the world 
 
 In princes' ears do ring; 
 King Henry, whom we call the Seventh, 
 
 Made them the greatest grace. 
 Because in Merchant Tailor's Hall 
 
 His picture now stands plac'd. 
 
 Their charter was his princely gift, 
 
 Maintained to this day, 
 He added Merchant to the name 
 
 Of Tailors, as some say. 
 So Merchant Tailors they be called, 
 
 His royal love was so, 
 No London company the like 
 
 Estate of kings can shew. 
 
 From time to time we thus behold 
 
 The Merchant Tailors' glory. 
 Of whose renown the Muses' pen 
 
 May make a lasting story. 
 This love of kings begot such love 
 
 Of our now royal prince, 
 For greater love than this to them 
 
 Was ne'er before nor since. 
 
 It pleased so Ids princely mind. 
 
 In meek kind courtesie, 
 To be a friendly freeman made 
 
 Of this brave company.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 1 47 
 
 O London then in heart rejoyce, 
 
 And Merchant Tailors sing 
 Forth praises of this gentle prince, 
 
 The .son of our good king. 
 
 To tell the welcome to the world 
 
 Here then in London had, 
 Might fill us full of pleasant joyes, 
 
 And make our hearts full glad. 
 His triumphs were performed and done. 
 
 Long lasting will remain, 
 And chronicles report aright 
 
 The order of it plain. 
 
 THE MERCER'S COMPANY'S SONG. 
 
 This ballad, which is of the year 1701, is transcribed from Her- 
 bert's " History of the Twelve Companies of London." 
 
 Advance the virgin, — lead the van, — 
 Of all that are in Loudon free. 
 
 The Mercer is the foremost man 
 That founded a society. 
 Cho. Of all the trades that London grace, 
 
 We are the first in time and place. 
 
 When nature in perfection was. 
 And virgin beauty in her prime, 
 
 l2
 
 148 SONGS OF THE 
 
 The Mercer gave the nymph a gloss, 
 And made e'en beauty more sublime. 
 Cho. In this above our brethren blest, 
 
 The Virgin's since our coat and crest. 
 
 Let others boast of lions bold, 
 
 The camel, leopard, and the bear, — 
 
 That tygers fierce their arms uphold. 
 
 And rav'nous wolves their scutcheons rear, 
 Cho. To us our virgin innocence 
 
 Is both supporter and defence. 
 
 Then let a loyal peal go round. 
 There's none dare claim priority; 
 
 To Cesar's health each glass be crown'd, 
 Wliose predecessors made us free. 
 Cho. Of all the trades that London grace, 
 
 Our's first in dignity and place. 
 
 FREEMEN'S SONG, OF FOUR VOICES. 
 
 From "Deuteromelia: or, the Second Part of pleasant Rounde- 
 layes ; K. H. Mirth, or Freemen's Songs, and such delightful 
 Catches. London, printed for Thomas Adams, dwelling in Paul's 
 Chui'ch-yard, at the sign of the ' A\'Tiite Lion,' 1 609." The terms 
 K. H. Mirth and Freemen s Songs have given rise to considerable 
 discussion. It is supposed that the former stands for King Henry's 
 Mirth ; that is, songs or catches of a merry nature, vrhich were 
 favourites with that prince. It may be so ; but there is no au- 
 thority for it beyond mere conjecture. Ritson has some absurd 
 notion of freemen being a mistake for three-men, because Shake-
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 149 
 
 speare speaks of " Three-men so^ig-men," that is, men who could 
 sing songs of three parts: but if Ritson ever saw the book in 
 question, he must there have found freemen's songs to four voices, 
 which sets the mutter at rest. This ballad is also to be found in 
 the "PiUs to Purge Melancholy," third edition, vol. i. p. 49. 
 London, 1707. 
 
 Who liveth so merry in all this land 
 As doth the poor widdow that selletli the sand? 
 And ever shee singeth as I can guesse, 
 WiU you buy any sand, any sand, mistress? 
 
 The broom-man maketh his living most sweet, 
 With carrying of broomes from street to street; 
 Wlio would desire a pleasanter thing, 
 Then all the day long to doe nothing but sing. 
 
 The chimney-sweeper all the long day. 
 He singeth and sweepeth the soote away; 
 Yet when he comes home altho' he be weary. 
 With his sweet wife he maketh full merry. 
 
 The cobbler he sits cobbling till noone. 
 And cobbleth his shooes till they be done; 
 Yet doth he not feare, and so doth say, 
 For he knows his worke will soone decay. 
 
 The mai-chant man doth saile on the seas. 
 And lye on the ship-board with little ease; 
 Always in doubt the rocke is neare. 
 How can he be merry and make good cheare?
 
 150 SONGS OF THE 
 
 The husband-man all day goetli to plow, 
 And when he comes home he serveth his sow; 
 He moyleth and toyleth all the long yeare, 
 How can he be merry, and make good cheare? 
 
 The servingman waiteth fro' street to street. 
 With blowing his nails and beating his feet: 
 And serveth for forty shillings a yeare, 
 That 'tis impossible to make good cheare. 
 
 A^Hio liveth so merry and maketh such sport 
 As those that be of the poorest sort? 
 The poorest sort wheresoever they be. 
 They gather together by one, two, and thi-ee. 
 
 And every man will spend his penny, 
 
 What makes such a shot among a great many? 
 
 THE SCRTUENER'S SERUANT'S SONG 
 OF HOLBORNE. 
 
 This and the five follomng, — "The Belman's Song," "The 
 Smith's Man," " The Cryer's Song of Cheapside," " The Pain- 
 ter's Song of London," and " The City Rounds," — are transcribed 
 from " Meligmata ; Musical Phantasies, fitting the Court, City, 
 and Country Manners, to three, four, and five Voices, — 
 
 To all delightful, except to the spiteful ; 
 To none offensive, except to the pensive. 
 
 London, printed by William Stansby, for Thos. Adams, 1611." 
 Prom the initials, T. R., B.M., at the end of the dedication, there
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 151 
 
 can be little doubt that the work was compiled by Thomas Ra- 
 venscroft, Bachelor of Music. He was also the editor of " Deu- 
 teromelia," and two other musical works. In the year 1822, the 
 Duke of Marlborough jiresented to the Members of the Rox- 
 burgh Club " A Selection from the Works of Thomas Ravens- 
 croft," but they were very incorrectly given. 
 
 My master is so wise, so wise, 
 
 That he'es proceeded wittall, 
 My mistris is a foole, a foole, 
 
 And yet 'tis the most get-all. 
 Let the vsurer cram him 
 
 Interest that excell, 
 Their pit's enough to damme him 
 
 Before he goes to heU. 
 Li Holborne some: in Fleet Streete some, 
 \Vliere care he come. 
 
 A BELMAN'S SONG. 
 
 Maides to bed, and cover coale, 
 Let the mouse out of her hole, 
 Crickets in the chimney sing, 
 Whilst the little bell doth ring; 
 If fast asleep, who can tell 
 Wlien the clapper hits the bell?
 
 152 SONGS OF THE 
 
 THE SMITH'S MAN. 
 
 Who will be the smith's man? 
 
 He that any good can, 
 
 To take his cups, or di'ink his bowls. 
 
 Or whisk his beesom o'er the coals, 
 
 Or heave the bellows, the first to blow. 
 
 And while the iron is hot, strike ho! 
 
 Fou^h — foiigh — to lough ! 
 
 THE CRYER'S SONG OF CHEAPSIDE. 
 
 Oyes ! oyes ! oyes I if any one at fifteene 
 Hath taken vp and found 
 
 A pretie pretie tiling 
 That hath her maiden head vnbound, 
 If any gallant haue with cater-tray, 
 Play'd the wise-acre, and made aU away, 
 
 Let him come to the cryer. 
 There wiU be laide a thousand pound to tenne, 
 That none of these will e'er be had againe. 
 
 Oyes ! oyes ! if note or line, or word be here let fall. 
 That giues to any man the taste of gall. 
 
 Let him come to the cryer, 
 I wiU lay my lips to a fat shroving hen 
 That none of these will 'er be had againe. 
 For this I say and likewise I protest 
 No arrowes here are shot at any brest; 
 But all are welcome to my musicke feaste.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 153 
 
 THE PAINTER'S SONG OF LONDON. 
 
 Where are you, faire maides, 
 That have need of our trades? 
 
 I'll sell you a rare confection: 
 Will yee have your faces spread 
 Either with white or red, 
 
 Will yee buy any fair comp lection? 
 
 My drugges are no dregges, 
 For I have whites of egges. 
 
 Made in a rare confection. 
 Red leather and surflet water, 
 Scarlet colour or staues-aker, 
 
 Will yee buy any fair complection? 
 
 CITIE ROUNDS. 
 
 Broomes for old shooes ! pouchrings,bootes and buskings ! 
 
 Will yee buy any new broome? 
 New oysters! new oysters! new new cockels! 
 
 Cockles nye ! fresh herrings ! Will yee buy any straw ? 
 Hay yee any kitchen stuiFe, maides? 
 
 Pippins fine, cherrie ripe, ripe, I'ipe! 
 Cherrie ripe! &c.
 
 154 SONGS OF THE 
 
 Hay any wood to cleaue? 
 Give eare to the clocke! 
 Beware your locke ! 
 Your fii'e and youi* light! 
 And God giue you good night! 
 One o' clocke! 
 
 NEW BROOMES— GREEN BROOMES. 
 
 From " A right excellent and famous comedy, called The Three 
 Ladies of London, written by R. W. printed in 1584." One of 
 the personages of the comedy is Conscience, who is supposed to 
 enter with brooms at her back, singing the following. 
 
 New broomes, green broomes, wiU you buy any? 
 Come, maydens, come quickly, let me take a peny. 
 
 My broomes are not steeped, 
 
 but very well bound: 
 My broomes be not crooked, 
 
 but smooth cut and round. 
 I wish it should please you 
 
 to buy of my broome: 
 Then would it well ease me, 
 
 if market were done. 
 
 Have you any olde bootes, 
 
 or any olde shoone? 
 Poweh-rings or buskins 
 
 to cope \\ith new broome?
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 155 
 
 If so you have, maydens, 
 
 I pray you bring hither: 
 That you and I, friendly, 
 
 may bai'gen together. 
 
 New broomes, green broomes, will you buy any? 
 Come, maydens, come quickly, let me take a peny. 
 
 THE TINKER. 
 
 From " Catch that Catch can ; or, the Musical Companion," 
 1667, 4to. Both this and the following appear in the "New 
 Academy of Complements, erected for Ladies, Gentlewomen, 
 Courtiers, Gentlemen, Scholars, Souldiers, Citizens, Countrymen, 
 and all Persons of what Degree soever, of both Sexes, compiled 
 by L. B. Sir C. S. Sir W. D. and others, the most refined Wits 
 of the Age. London, printed by J. D. for John Churchill, at 
 the 'Black Swan,' in Paternoster Row. 1694." The initials 
 Sir C. S. and Sir W. D. are probably meant for Sir Charles 
 Sedley and Sir WilUam Davenant. 
 
 Have you any work for a tinker, mistriss? 
 
 Old brass, old pots, or kettles? 
 
 rie mend them all with a tink, terry tink, 
 
 And never hurt your mettles. 
 
 First let me have but a touch of your ale, 
 
 'Twin steel me 'gainst cold weather, 
 
 Or tinkers frees, 
 
 Or vintners lees. 
 
 Or tobacco, chuse you whether.
 
 ] 56 SONGS OF THE 
 
 But of your ale, 
 
 Your nappy ale, 
 
 I would I had a ferkin, 
 
 For I am old, 
 
 And very cold, 
 
 And never wear a jerkin. 
 
 HE THAT A TINKER WOULD BE. 
 
 From " Wit and jVIirth, or Pills to Purge Melancholy," vol. i. 
 London, 1707. 
 
 He that a Tinker, a Tinker would be. 
 
 Let him leave other loves 
 And come listen to me; 
 Though he travels all the day. 
 
 He comes home late at night, 
 And dallies with liis doxey 
 
 And di-eams of delight. 
 
 His pot and his toast in the morning he takes, 
 AjQd all the day long good music he makes; 
 And wanders the world to wakes and to fairs. 
 And casts his cap at the court and her cares. 
 Wlien to the to'ivn the tinker doth come. 
 Oh how the wanton wenches run! 
 
 Some bring him basons, some bring him bowls; 
 All wenches pray him to stop up their holes.
 
 LONDON PRENTICES AND TRADES. 157 
 
 Tink! goes the hammer, 
 The skillet and the skummer! 
 
 Come bring me the copper kettle! 
 For the Tinker, the merry Tinker, 
 
 He is the man of mettle. 
 
 HOT CODLINS. 
 
 From "Catch that Catch Can; or, the Musical Companion," 1GG7, 
 4to. 
 
 Have you observ'd the wench in the street, — 
 
 She's scai'ce any hose, or shoes to her feet, 
 
 Yet she is very merry, 
 
 And when she cries. 
 
 She sings " I ha' hot codlins ;" 
 
 Or have you ever seen or heard 
 
 The mortal with a lio?i tawny beard? — 
 
 He lives as merrily as any heart can wish. 
 
 And still he cries " buy a brisk.'''' 
 
 Since these are merry why should we take care? 
 
 Musicians, like camelions, must live by the ayr. 
 
 Then let's be blith and bonny, 
 
 And no good meeting balk ; 
 
 For when we have no mony, 
 
 We shall find chalk.
 
 C. RIcn.AKnS, PRINTKU. ST. MARTIN'S I.AXE.
 
 THE 
 
 HISTORICAL SONGS 
 OF IRELAND: 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF 
 
 THE REVOLUTIONARY STRUGGLE 
 
 BKTWEK.N 
 
 JAMES II AND WILLIAM III. 
 
 WITH INTRODUCTIONS AND NOTES, 
 
 T. CROFTON CROKER. 
 
 LONDON : 
 PRINTED FOR THE PERCY SOCIETY, 
 
 BY C. KICHARUS, ST. MARTIN'S LANE.
 
 COUNCIL 
 
 €f)t pertp M>otUt^* 
 
 J. A. CAHUSAC, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 WILLIAM CHAPPELL, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 JOHN PAYNE COLLIEK, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 T. CROFTON CROKER, Esq. F.S.A. M.R.I.A. 
 
 REV. ALEXANDER DYCE. 
 
 RICHARD HALLIWELL, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL, Esq. F.R.S. Treasurer. 
 
 WILLIAM JERDAN, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 SAMUEL LOVER, Esq. 
 
 CHARLES MACKAY, Esq. 
 
 E. F. RIMBAULT, Esq. Secretary 
 
 THOMAS WRIGHT, Esq. M.A. F.S.A.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 There is an old adage, that " the least said is the 
 soonest mended ;"" to the profound wisdom of 
 which the Editor subscribes. 
 
 Nevertheless, in editing the following songs, he 
 has said a great deal more than is necessary, to 
 recal to the reader's mind the precise circum- 
 stances under which the songs, selected by him to 
 illustrate an important page in the history of 
 the British Isles, were written. He has been 
 induced to pursue this course, and to deviate 
 from the path which prudence dictated he should 
 follow, by the strong light under which party 
 feelings may regard even at the present moment 
 some of the points touched upon in this Collection. 
 
 The endeavour honestly to perform his duty as 
 Editor, without reference to party objects, has 
 perhaps led him into the error of minute contem- 
 porary illustration ; which, if it should be so 
 considered after thus explaining his motive, he 
 trusts will be indulgently viewed by the members 
 of the Percy Society. 
 
 The Editor most gratefully acknowledges the 
 assistance he has received from many kind friends, 
 while passing this little publication through the 
 press, 
 
 Kosumoncrs Boner, Fulliam, 
 26th Jrawnri/, 1841.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 LiLLIBURLERO 
 
 Introduction - - - - 1 
 
 Ballad. Parti - - . . 6 
 
 Ditto. Part II ... - 9 
 
 Notes - - . . - II 
 
 The Reading Skirmish — 
 
 Introduction - - - 14 
 
 Ballad - - - - - 15 
 
 Notes - - - - - 19 
 
 King James's Welcome to Ireland — 
 
 Introduction - - - - 22 
 
 Song - . - - - 29 
 
 Undaunted Londonderrv — 
 
 Introduction - - - .30 
 
 Ballad - - - - - 46 
 
 Notes - - - - - 49 
 
 The Protestant Commander — 
 
 Inti'oduction . - - - 51 
 
 Ballad - - - - - 53 
 
 The Boyne Water — 
 
 Introduction - - - - 56 
 
 Ballad - - - - - 60 
 
 Notes - . . • - 63 
 
 The Death of the Duke of Schomberg — 
 
 Introduction - - - - 64 
 
 Ballad - - - - - 71
 
 The Woman AVarkior — 
 
 Intvodiiction - - - .74 
 
 Ballad - - - - - 76 
 
 Note - - - - - 79 
 
 The Conquest of Ireland — 
 
 Introduction - - - - 80 
 
 La Conquete d'Irlande - - - 83 
 
 Le Relour de Daphnii - - - 80 
 
 Notes - - - - - 101 
 
 The Stout Inniskillin Man — 
 
 Introduction - - - -109 
 
 Song - - - - - 115 
 
 The Treaty of Limerick — 
 
 Introduction - - - - 117 
 
 Epigram ..... 120 
 
 It was a' for our rightfu' King — 
 
 Introduction ... . . 120 
 
 Song - - - . - 121 
 
 The Jacks put to their Trumps — 
 
 Inti'oduction - . - - 133 
 
 Ballad - - - - - 135
 
 HISTOEICAL SONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 LILLI BURLERO. 
 
 It is stated in the " Memoirs of Ireland, by the Author 
 of the Secret History of Europe,"* that soon after the 
 accession of James II, " the Irish lords animated their 
 vassals to insult them [the Protestants], giving out that 
 the Earl of Clarendon should not be long lord-lieutenant. 
 They hired wretched scribblers to make barbarous songs 
 in praise of Tyrconnel, whom they designed his suc- 
 cessor, and prophetically decreed him the honour of de- 
 stroying the English Church. These infamous ballads 
 were bawled about the streets, and served to inflame 
 their lewd mirth." 
 
 At this period, according to a letter which the Editor 
 has seen, and which existed among that important his- 
 torical collection, the Southwell MSS.,f " an Irish song 
 was much sung by the lower orders of the people 
 throughout the kingdom, in which there was a great 
 repetition of the words Lere, lere, burlerc ;J and it was 
 
 * London, 171G, p. 45. 
 
 f Now dispersed. Sold by auction at Messrs. Christie's, 
 February 1 834, by order of the executors of Lord De Clifford. 
 J " Religion, religion, your religion.^' 
 
 B
 
 2 LILLI BURLERO. 
 
 soon after most effectively parodied against Tyrconnel 
 and the tyrannical proceedings towards the poor Pro- 
 testants in Ireland." 
 
 According to Bishop Percy, " Lilli burlero, and 
 Bullen a lah, are said to have been words of distinction 
 used among the Irish Papists, in their massacre of the 
 Protestants in 1641." There can be no doubt that these 
 words are an English imitation of the sound of an 
 Irish phrase or sentence, but they are so disguised as 
 to admit only of a conjectural translation. Mr. David 
 Murphy, an ingenious Irish scholar, supposes the ori- 
 ginal words to have been equivalent to "A foreign 
 soldier, strike him down." 
 
 The first part of the song of Lilli burlero is preserved 
 by Bishop Percy, in his " Reliques of Ancient English 
 Poetry," where these remarks occur upon it : " The fol- 
 lowing rhymes, slight and insignificant as they may now 
 seem, had once a more powerful effect than either the 
 philippics of Demosthenes or Cicero ; and contributed 
 not a little towards the great revolution of 1688. Let 
 us hear a contemporary writer. ' A foolish ballad was 
 made at that time, treating the Papists, and chiefly the 
 Irish, in a very ridiculous manner, which had a burden 
 said to be Irish words, ' Lero, lero, lilliburlero,' that 
 made an impression on the [king's] army, that cannot 
 be imagined by those that saw it not. The whole array, 
 and at last the people, both in city and county, were 
 singing it perpetually ; and, perhaps, never had so slight 
 a thing so great an effect.* — Bishop Burnet's History of 
 his Own Times."
 
 LILLI BURLERO. 3 
 
 A note in Percy at the end of Lilli burlero, adds, 
 " The foregoing song is attributed to Lord Wharton, in 
 a small pamphlet, entitled, ' A true Relation of the 
 several Facts and Circumstances of the intended Riot 
 and Tumult on Queen Elizabeth's Birthday, &c. third 
 edition. London, 1712, price 2d., see page 5, viz. :' — 
 ' A late viceroy [of Ireland] who has so often boasted 
 himself upon his talent for mischief, invention, lying, 
 and for making a certain Lilli burlero song, with which, 
 if you may believe himself, he sung a deluded prince 
 out of three kingdoms.' " 
 
 With regard to the authorship of Lilli burlero, Mr. 
 Markland has observed,* that, according to Lord 
 Dartmouth, " there was a particular expression in it, 
 which the King remembered he had made use of to the 
 Earl of Dorset, from whence it was concluded that he 
 was the author." " The ballad of Lilli burlero," re- 
 marked Beauclerk to Dr. Johnson, " was once in the 
 mouths of all the people of this country, and is said to 
 have had a great effect in bringing about the revolution. 
 Yet I question," he continued, " whether any body can 
 repeat it now; which shews how improbable it is that 
 much poetry should be preserved by tradition." This, 
 however, is not a fair deduction ; for, a political squib, 
 and especially one in a barbarous jargon, cannot be 
 considered poetry ; and, although in a moment of ex- 
 citement few things are more captivating to the fancy 
 
 * Boswell's Johnson. Note in Murray's 10 vol. ed. vol. v. 
 p. 291. 
 
 B 2
 
 4 LILLI BURLERO. 
 
 than the jingle of satirical rhymes which have a witty 
 reference to temporary circumstances, yet few things 
 sooner lose their popular relish. 
 
 A slight I'eference to the verses of this period, will 
 shew how popular the ballad of Lilli burlero must have 
 been.* 
 
 * In the Irish Hudibras, (London 1689, p. 151), we have — 
 
 '• LilU-ho-lero-lero sing 
 Tyrconnel is no longer k ," &c. 
 
 In an epistle to Mr. Dryden, (Poems on Affairs of State, 
 1716, vol. i. p. 143,) 
 
 " Dryden, thy wit has catterwaul'd too long, 
 Now lero lero is the only song." 
 
 The tenth verse of a ballad on the Inniskilling Regiment, 
 in the same volume (p. 261) runs thus : — it may also be found 
 in D' Urfey's " Pills to purge Melancholy." 
 
 " He the nag of an Irish papist did buy, 
 So doubting his courage and his loyalty, 
 He taught him to eat with his oats gunpowdero, 
 And prance to the tune of LilU-burlero." 
 
 A ballad entitled " Popery pickled ; or, the Jesuit's Shoes 
 made of running Leath," has the following verse : 
 
 " Would you see the priests recanting, 
 Now they fear the English law ; 
 You shall hear them all a ranting 
 Lero, lero, bullen a la." 
 
 " On the Lord Lovelace's coming to Oxford from Gloucester 
 Gaol in 1688. 
 
 " At the foot of the colours blithe Craudon did go. 
 Who play'd a new tune you very well know ; 
 His bagpipes squeak'd nothing but Uro, kro, 
 
 Which nobodv can denv."
 
 LILLI BURLERO. 5 
 
 Sterne has materially contributed to extend the fame 
 of Lilli burlero to our times, by making my Uncle 
 Toby whistle the tune on many occasions. The present 
 version of this celebrated song, is given from " The 
 Muses' Farewell to Popery and Slavery ; or, a Collec- 
 tion of Miscellany Poems, Satyrs, Songs, &c. made by 
 the most eminent wits of the nation, as the Shams, In- 
 trigues, and Plots of Priests and Jesuits gave occasion." 
 London, 1689. And the second part from the sup- 
 plement to the same work. In the table of contents, 
 the first part of Lilli burlero is emphatically called 
 " The Irish Song." 
 
 Mr. Monck Mason, in his " History of St. Patrick's 
 Cathedral," states, that " Abel Roper, publisher of the 
 ' Post-boy,' a person of infamous character, who was 
 alternately Whig or Tory, as suited his purpose, is said 
 to have been the original printer of the celebrated 
 ballad of Lilly bullero." 
 
 The zealous Secretary of the Percy Society, Mr. 
 Rimbault, has informed the Editor, that " The air of 
 Lilli burlero is generally considered to be the composi- 
 tion of the celebrated Henry Purcell ; but that it could 
 
 A song in " the Muses' Farewell to Popery and Shivery," 
 contains this verse : 
 
 " Life and fortune addresses 
 
 Shall not wear out our presses, 
 To flatter and sooth a just Nero; 
 
 But loud declarations 
 
 To secure the three nations 
 From the French, and from lAlli hiirhru." &c. 
 
 Sec also note (B), p. 21.
 
 6 LILLI BURLERO. 
 
 not have been his composition is evident from the fact 
 of its being contained in 'An Antidote against Melan- 
 choly,' printed in the year 1661, when Purcell was only 
 three years old. The air is there given (with some tri- 
 fling difference in the latter part) to the following words : 
 
 ' There was an old man at Walton cross, 
 Who merrily sung when he liv'd by the loss ; 
 He never was heard to sigh a hey ho, 
 But he sent it out with a hey ti'oly lo. 
 He chear'd up his heart 
 When his goods went to wrack, 
 With a hem, hey hem 
 And a cup of old sack 
 
 Sing, hey troly-troly lo.' 
 
 " The air of Lilli burlero," adds Mr. Rimbault, " first 
 appeared with Purcell's name to it, in ' Musick's 
 Handmaid, New Lessons and Instructions for the Vir- 
 ginals, 1678,' where it is called Lilli burlero, or Old 
 woman, whither so high ; but Purcell's name attached 
 to it merely signifies that he arranged it." 
 
 LILLI BURLERO. 
 
 Ho ! brother Teague, dost hear de decree, 
 
 Lilli burlero bullen a la; 
 Dat we shall have a new debittie, [^deputy'] 
 Lilli burlero bullen a la. 
 Lero, lero, lero, lero, Lilli burlero bullen a la. 
 Lero, lero, lero, lero, Lilli burlero bullen a la.
 
 LILLI BURLERO. 
 
 Ho ! by my shoul, it is a T 1, [Talbot] 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 And he will cut all the English- t — t, [throat] 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 Though by my shoul de English do prat, 
 
 Lilli, &e. 
 De law's on dare side, and Chreist knows what, 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 But if dispense do come from de pope, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 We'll hang Magno Carto and demselves^ in a rope, 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 And^ the good T 1 [^Talbotl is made a lord, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 And he with brave lads is coming aboard,' 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 Who all in France have taken a swear, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 Dat dey will have no Protestant h — r, [Aejr] 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 O I * but why does he '' stay behind ? 
 Lilli, &c. 
 
 ^ Ho ! by Sheint Tyburn. — Percy. 
 
 2 Englishmen's. — Percy. * Dem. — Percy. * For. — Percy. 
 
 * And he, brave lads, is coming aboard. — Percy. 
 
 ® Ara. — Percy. "> King James.
 
 8 LILLI BURLEKO. 
 
 Ho by nij' shoiil 'tis a Protestant wind,' 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 Now T 1 \_Tyrconnel~\ is come ashore,^ 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 And we shall have commissions gillore,^ 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 And he dat will not go to m — ss^ [_mass~\ 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 Shall ^ turn out and look like an ass, 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 Now, now de heretics all go down, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 By Chreist and St. Patrick de nation's our own,® 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 There was an old prophecy found in a bog, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 That Ireland should be rul'd by an ass and a dog :' 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 And now this prophecy is come to pass,® 
 Lilli, &c. 
 
 1 See note (A). 
 
 2 But see de Tyrconnel is now come ashore. — Percy. 
 
 ^ Plenty — in abundance. ■• Go to de Mass. — Percy. 
 « Shall he.- Percy. « See note (B). 
 
 ^ " Ireland shall he rul'd by an ass and a dog." — Percy. 
 ^ " The prophecy's true, and now come to pass." — Poems 
 on Affairs of State.
 
 LILLI BURLERO. 
 
 For T — but's [^Talbot's^ the dog, and Tyr — nel's 
 [Tyrconnel's] the ass,^ 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF LILLI BURLERO 
 BULLEN A LA. 
 
 By Creist my dear Morish vat makes de sho' shad ? 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 The heritticks jear us and mauke me mad, 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 Plague take me, dear Tague, but I am in a rage, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 Poo' what impidence is in dish age ? 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 Vat if Dush [Dutch] shou'd come as dey hope, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 To up hang us for all de dispence of de pope, 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 Day shay dat T I's [Tyrconnel] a friend to 
 
 de mash, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 For which he's a traitor, a goose, and an ass, 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 1 See note (C).
 
 10 LILLI BURLERO. 
 
 Ara' plague tauke me now I make a swar, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 I to Shent Tyburn will make a great prayer, 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 O* I will pray to Shaint Patrick's frock, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 Or to Loretto's sacred smock, 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 Now a plague tauke me what dost dow tink, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 De English confusion to popery drink ; 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 And by my shoul the mash house pull down, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 While they were swearing the mayor of de town, 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 O' fait and be I'll mauke de decree, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 And swar by the Chancellor's modesty,^ 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 Dat I no longer in English will stay, 
 
 Lilli, &c. 
 For be goad dey will hang us out of de way, 
 
 Lilli, &c. &c. 
 
 1 See note (D).
 
 LILLI BURLERO. H 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 (A) When it was known that the Prince of Orange was 
 about leaving Holland for the invasion of England, such was 
 the excitement of public feeling, that the slightest change in 
 the wind was regarded with intense anxiety. If it blew fairly 
 for England, it was spoken of as the Protestant, and when 
 in an adverse direction, as the Catholic wind. The apart- 
 ments of James II were opposite to the banquetting-house at 
 Whitehall. On the roof of this building he caused a lofty 
 vane to be erected, which he is said to have regarded daily 
 with extreme interest. This curious relic is supposed to be 
 the vane at present existing. 
 
 (B) " What follows," observes Bishop Percy, " is not in 
 some copies." Both the first and second parts of Lilli bur- 
 lero may be found in " A Collection of Poems on Affairs of 
 State," vol. iii. p. 231 (1704), but without these verses. At p. 
 256, however, they are given as an epigram, and entitled " An 
 Irish Prophecy." 
 
 (C) " For Talbot's de dog, and James is de ass." —Percy. 
 The last line of the " Irish Prophecy" above mentioned, agrees 
 with the text, and not with Bishop Percy's version, which at 
 first seems the better reading of the two. But the line appears 
 intended to satirise the heads of Church and State. Peter 
 Talbot, the brother of Tyrconnel, had been the titular, or 
 Roman Catholic Archbishop of Dublin, and many anecdotes 
 are current as to the keenness with which he watched the 
 property that had belonged to his church. The one most
 
 12 LILLI BURLERO. 
 
 commonly told is, that " landing at a place called the Sker- 
 ries, within twelve miles of Dublin, the archbishop was very 
 hospitably entertained by one Captain Coddingtou, at whose 
 house he lodged all night. The next morning he (the arch- 
 bishop) took him aside, and after the most affectionate expres- 
 sions of kindness, asked him, ' what title he had to that 
 estate ?' for that he observed he had expended considerably 
 upon its improvements. Coddingtou answered, ' 'Twas an 
 old estate belonging to the Earl of Thomoud.' Talbot re- 
 plied, ' That's nothing, it belonged to the church, and would 
 be taken away.' He then advised him to lay out no more 
 upon it, but to get what he could and desert it." Harris 
 (Ware's "Writers," p. 192) says that Peter Talbot, who had 
 been educated as a Jesuit, " was always forming designs, and 
 contriving schemes for advancing" the interests of the Roman 
 Catholic church, which, to use the words of an old author, 
 " he guarded with the fidelity that became the doggedness of 
 his name." 
 
 Upon being appointed by the pope Archbishop of Dublin, 
 as a reward, it is supposed, for the part he had played in 
 England during Cromwell's government, Talbot directly em- 
 broiled himself with Plunket, the titular Primate of Ireland, 
 who told him " that he had the reputation of meddling too 
 much in affairs of state." Mr. D' Alton, in his " Memoirs of 
 the Archbishops of Dublin" (1838), labours hard to shew that 
 Talbot was an amiable and persecuted man ; and expresses a 
 hope that justice will be done to his character, notwithstanding 
 " the prejudices of his contemporaries have sought to vilify 
 his memory ; and even Mr. Moore has reflected their opinions 
 when he styles him ' the clever and turbulent Peter Talbot.' " 
 This prelate died a prisoner in the Castle of Dublin, in 1680 ; 
 a picture of him is preserved at Malahide Castle.
 
 LILLI BURLERO. 13 
 
 (D) The notorious Judge Jeffreys was made Lord Chancellor 
 by James IT, 28th September 1685, and created Baron Wera. 
 His cruelty is said to have been only exceeded by his insa- 
 tiable avarice, and the open and unblushing manner in which 
 he received bribes. " He was not more hasty to hang up 
 those that had no money than he was zealous to procure in- 
 demnity to those that were rich. Pardons now were just as 
 they were at Rome, not according to the ofience, but the 
 ability of the person, from ten pounds to 14,000 guineas, 
 which last sum this judge of iniquity did not scruple to take 
 from Mr. Sp — s, and with which he bought an estate that may 
 be justly called ' the Field of Blood.' " Upon this passage, 
 which is from a contemporary tract, the Editor's friend Mr. 
 Bruce observes : — " I fancy there is a little mistake in the name 
 of the person who paid Jeffreys the 14,000 guineas. You have it 
 " Mr. Sp — s." The immensity of the amount seems to fix it 
 
 as having been the sum paid by " Mrs. P x" [Mrs Pri- 
 
 daux] for the release of her husband, which was agreed to 
 be £15,000; but a sum was al)ated byway of discount for 
 prompt payment, and the sum actually paid was thus reduced 
 to about 14,000 guineas. One can scarcely think there could 
 have been two such transactions. With the money thus ob- 
 tained Jeffreys bought the manor ofBoughton in Leicester- 
 shire, and after the establishment of William III, an endea- 
 vour was made to charge that estate with the sum paid to 
 Jeffreys on account of Mr. Pridaux, but it failed." — Wool- 
 rycK's Life of Jeffreys, p. 238. Jeffreys, as is well-known, 
 having been taken in Wapping disguised as a sailor, died soon 
 after in the Tower. A contemporary rhymer recommends 
 that — 
 
 " On his grave 
 
 Tliis should be wrote : — I was both fool and knave ; 
 To law and drink a scandal and a slave."
 
 14 
 
 THE READING SKIRMISH. 
 
 " In 1688, a skirmish happened at Reading (Berk- 
 shire), in which fell the only officer of the Prince of 
 Orange's army, who lost his life in the expedition 
 which effected the happy revolution of that year. King 
 James's army, consisting of some Irish and Scotch 
 regiments, had been quartered at Reading, and had 
 quitted it on hearing that the Prince of Orange was 
 advancing with the main body of his army. The inha- 
 bitants, immediately on their departure, invited the 
 Prince to take possession of the town, and secure them 
 from the Irish, of which nation the King's army was 
 then chiefly composed, and of whom they, in common 
 with the rest of the kingdom, seemed to have enter- 
 tained a great dread. The King's army having received 
 intelligence that it was only a detachment from the 
 Prince of Orange, that had advanced to Newbury, 
 returned to Reading, and posted some Irish dragoons 
 to defend the bridge ; the Scotch were drawn up in 
 the market-place, when the Prince of Orange's troops 
 entered the town ; a slight skirmish ensued, and a few 
 lives were lost, but the King's troops soon fled with 
 precipitation, and left the town in possession of their 
 opponents.* This aff'air became the subject of a ballad, 
 
 * Kennet's History.
 
 THE READING SKIRMISH. 15 
 
 called the ' Reading Skirmish ; or the bloody Irish 
 .routed by the victorious Dutch.' The anniversary of 
 the Reading fight is still commemorated by bell-ringing 
 in the three parishes." — Lysons' Magna Britannia. 
 
 This song is given from a collection of printed 
 ballads, &c. in the British Museum, two vols, folio. 
 The original is in black letter, except the title and the 
 last line of each verse, and is embellished with a wood- 
 cut representing two knights in armour tilting. 
 
 " By Chreest and St. Patrick we all go down," 
 resembles so closely the tenth verse of the first part of 
 Lilli burlero, (see p. 8) that there can be little doubt 
 this burden was derived from it; and there are reasons 
 for believing that this verse was the conclusion of the 
 original song. See Note (B) p. 11. 
 
 THE READING SKIRMISH ; 
 
 OR, THE BLOODY IRISH ROUTED BY THE VICTORIOUS DUTCH. 
 
 " Five hundred papishes came there, 
 To make a final end 
 Of all the town in time of prayer, 
 But God did them defend." 
 
 To the tune of Lilli borlero. Licensed according to order. 
 Printed for J. D. iu the year 1688. 
 
 We came into brave Reading by night, 
 Five hundred horsemen, proper and tall ; 
 
 Yet not resolved fairly to fight. 
 
 But for to cut the throats of them all.
 
 16 THE READING SKIRMISH. 
 
 Most of us was Irish Papists, 
 
 Who vowed to kill, then plunder the town ; 
 We this never doubted, but soon we were routed, 
 
 By Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down. 
 
 In Reading town we ne'er went to bed, 
 
 Every soul there mounted his horse, 
 Hoping next day to fill them with dread ; 
 
 Yet I swear by St. Patrick's cross, 
 We most shamefully was routed. 
 
 Fortune was pleased to give us a frown, 
 And blasted our glory : I'll tell you the story. 
 
 By Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down. 
 
 W^e thought to slay them all in their sleep. 
 
 But by my shoul, were never the near ; 
 The hereticks their guard did so keep. 
 
 Which put us in a trembling fear. 
 We concluded something further, 
 
 To seize the churches all in the town. 
 With killing and slaying, while they were a praying. 
 
 But we were routed, and soon run down. 
 
 Nay, before noon, we vowed to despatch 
 
 Every man, naj', woman and child; 
 This in our hearts we freely did hatch, 
 
 Vowing to make a prey of the spoil : 
 But we straightways was prevented, 
 
 When we did hope for fame and renown. 
 In less than an hour we forced [are] to scoure. 
 
 By Chreest and St. Patrick, we are run down.
 
 THE READING SKIRMISH. 17 
 
 We were resolved Reading to clear, 
 
 Having in hand the flourishing sword ; 
 The bloody sceen was soon to appear, 
 
 For we did then but wait for the word : 
 While the ministers were preaching, 
 
 We were resolved to have at their gown ; 
 But straight was surrounded, and clearly confounded. 
 
 By Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down. 
 
 Just as we all were fit to fall on, 
 
 In came the Dutch with fury and speed ; 
 And amongst them there was not a man. 
 
 But what was rarely mounted indeed ; 
 And rid up as fierce as tygers, 
 
 Knitting their brows, they on us did frown. 
 Not one of them idle, their teeth held their bridle. 
 
 By Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down. 
 
 They never stood to use many words. 
 
 But in all haste up to us they flocked ; 
 In their right hands their flourishing swords. 
 
 And in their left carbines ready cock'd : 
 We were forced to fly before them 
 
 Thorow the lanes and streets of the town ; 
 While they pursued after, and threaten'd a slaughter. 
 
 By Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down. 
 
 Thus being fairly put to the rout, 
 
 Hunted and drove before 'um like dogs; 
 
 c
 
 18 THE READING SKIRMISH. 
 
 Our captain bid us then face about, 
 
 But we wisht for our Irish bogs ; 
 Having no great mind for fighting, 
 
 The Dutch did drive us thorow the town ; 
 Our foreheads we crossed, yet still was unhorsed. 
 
 By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down. 
 
 We threw away our swords and carbines. 
 
 Pistols and cloaks lay strow'd on the lands ; 
 Cutting off boots for running, uds-doyns, 
 
 One pair of heels was worth two pair of hands.i 
 Then we called on sweet St. Coleman,2 
 
 Hoping he might our victory crown ; 
 But Dutchmen pursuing poor Teagues to our ruin. 
 
 By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down. 
 
 Never was Teagues in so much distress. 
 
 As the whole world may well understand ; 
 When we came here, we thought to possess 
 
 Worthy estates of houses and land : 
 But we find 'tis all a story, 
 
 Fortune is pleased on us to frown : 
 Instead of our riches, we stink in our breeches. 
 
 By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down. 
 
 They call a thing a three-legged mare, 
 
 Where they will fit each neck with a nooze ; 
 
 Then vvith our beads to say our last prayer, 
 After all this to die in our shoes. 
 
 1 See note (A). * See note (B).
 
 THE READING SKIRMISH. 19 
 
 Thence we pack to purgatory ; 
 
 For us let all the Jesuits pray. 
 Farewell, Father Peters/ here's some of your creatures 
 
 Would have you to follow the selfsame way. 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 (A) The Irish troops, on which James depended at this 
 critical period, were ill disciplined, and generally, upon the 
 slightest cause, ran away panic-struck. In the instance men- 
 tioned in the song, we are told, that " Upon tlie approach of 
 a small party of his highness' [the Prince of Orange's] cavalry, 
 the Irish made a discharge and abandoned their post; the 
 Scotch, who had no inclination to fight, followed their example, 
 and fled in disorder, till they were rallied by the Earl of Fa- 
 versham, who was coming up to support them. Of the Irish 
 not many were killed, and as few taken. However, the court 
 [James's party] complained that the [Reading] town's-peopie 
 shot at them behind, from their windows, while the prince's 
 horse charged them before; but they justify themselves by 
 saying, that the fear the Irish were in made them fancy they 
 were attacked on every side, which, at this juncture, the court 
 thought fit to believe. Maidenhead bridge was also fortified, 
 and its defence committed to the Irish ; but some of the 
 townsmen beating a Dutch march in the night, in order to 
 alarm them, this stratagem took so well, that the Irish aban- 
 
 1 See note (C). 
 
 c2
 
 20 THE READING SKIRMISH. 
 
 doned their post in confusion, leaving their great guns behind 
 them." 
 
 (B) Edward Coleman, hanged at Tyburn in 1678, for his 
 participation in the Popish Plot. 
 
 " Now, painter, draw me hell in all its heat. 
 Let sulphurous flames and dismal darkness meet, 
 And in the hottest place, as hest heiits, 
 Draw Stayley, Coleman, and the Jesuits." 
 
 The Second Advice to a Painter. Broadside. 
 
 Upon this broadside Mr. Bruce has favoured the Editor 
 with the following observations : 
 
 " Stayley was the first victim sacrificed upon the testimony 
 of the respectable contrivers of the Popish plot. He was a 
 goldsmith or banker in Covent Garden, and it was sworn that 
 he was overheard to say, in a cook's shop, that the king was a 
 great rogue, and that his was the hand that would kill him, if 
 nobody else's would. All that seems to have been true was 
 that he was in the cook's shop and spoke iu French. The 
 words were uttered on the 14th November, 1678 ; he was 
 arraigned on the 20th of the same month ; tried on the 21st ; 
 executed on the 26th. His relations petitioned the king that 
 his body might not be set up on the gates of the city, and Charles 
 "out of his princely clemency and compassion," granted an 
 order for the sheriff to deliver the " quarters" to his friends. 
 This was done, but, they being injudicious enough to say 
 masses over the mangled remains, and bury them pompously 
 in St. Paul's, Covent Garden, the king revoked his order ; the 
 body was disinterred ; and the head and quarters made to 
 adorn the city in the usual manner. The authorities for 
 these facts are Burnet's Own Times, ii. 160, Edit. 1823; 
 and the State Trials, vi. 1502. Stayley was probably a part- 
 ner with his father in the banking-house, which was lately 
 Wrights'.
 
 THE READING SKIRMISH. 21 
 
 " There is a reference to ' Sweet Saint Coleman,' in a libel 
 published in 1689, entitled ' The Chancellor's Examination 
 and Preparation for a Trial,' of which Woolrych has given 
 a copy. It purports to contain a will made by Jeffreys, in 
 which he gives a thousand pounds, for the erection ' of a 
 shrine and chapel to St. Coleman, for the particular devotion 
 of a late very great English zealot: for whose gloiy,' he 
 continues, ' I further order my executors to bear half charges 
 in inserting and registering the sacred pajjers and memoirs of 
 the said saint in those divine legends ' The Lives of the 
 Saints,' by the hands of the reverend and no less industrious 
 successor. Father Peters.' In the same paper there is also 
 the following passage : — ' I desire that my funeral anthems 
 be all set to the tune of ' Old Lilliburlero,' that never-to-be- 
 forgotten Irish Shibboleth, in commemoration not only of 
 200,000 heretics that formerly danced off to the said musical 
 notes, but also of the second part of the same tune, lately 
 designing, setting, and composing by a great master of mine 
 and myself.' " 
 
 (C) The skirmish at Reading took place on the 9th Decem- 
 ber, 1688. On the 6th of December, " the popish party had 
 become so contemptible in London, that there was a hue and 
 cry after Father Petre publicly cried and sold in the streets." 
 
 This song, from the statement that the Irish intended to 
 " cut the throats of them all," and had " vowed to kill and 
 then plunder the town," was no doubt written immediately 
 after the 13th December, on which day "some country fellows 
 arriving towards midnight at Westminster, caused a sudden 
 uproar by reporting that the Irish, in a desperate rage, were 
 approaching London, firing the houses, and putting man, 
 woman, and child, to the sword. This false report gathered 
 as it went along, so that in a few moments, not only the
 
 22 THE READING SKIRMISH. 
 
 trained bands and disciplined troops appeared in ai-ms, but 
 eveiy body leaving their beds, placed lights in the windows, 
 betook themselves, with half their clothes on, the most fearful 
 to flight, the most resolute to their weapons. And what is 
 most strange, this alarm spread itself the same night over the 
 whole kingdom, and all that were able to carry arms vowed 
 the defence of their lives, laws, religion, and liberties, and 
 stood resolved to destroy all the Irish and papists in England, 
 in case any injury were offered them. Some said that this 
 general flight was occasioned by seven or eight Irish soldiers, 
 who, having no money, resolved to keep themselves from 
 starving, by forcibly entering into a country house. Whilst 
 they were cuffing with those who would have thrust them 
 out, a paltry cottage happened to catch fire, whereupon all 
 the neighbouring towns and villages rang their alarm bells, 
 which were echoed throughout all England. 
 
 " Some politicians assigned another cause {which was most 
 probable) of this universal terror, and said it was industriously 
 propagated by the directions of the Duke of Schomberg, both 
 to feel the pulse of the nation, and to inspire them with 
 resentment against the popish party, by letting them see to 
 what dangers they were reduced by the bringing of Irish 
 troops into the kingdom." — Bowyer's History of William III. 
 Vol. i. 372 and 387. (1703.) 
 
 KING JAMES'S WELCOME TO IRELAND. 
 
 James II landed at Kinsale on Tuesday, 12th March, 
 1688-9, where he was received by the Earl of Clan- 
 carty, and where, " for the want of bells," we are told, 
 " the king was welcomed with the shouts and accla-
 
 KING JAMES'S WELCOME TO IRELAND. 28 
 
 mations of the people, bonfires, &c." Mr. Walker 
 states that a national dance, called the Rinka fada, 
 which he has minutely described in the " Memoirs of 
 the Irish Bards," was danced on this occasion before 
 James, " the figure and execution of which delighted 
 him exceedingly." 
 
 On the following day, James proceeded to Cork, and 
 awaited in that city the arrival of his lord-deputy, 
 Tyrconnel. Here the king publicly heard mass on 
 Sunday, the 1 7th March, (St. Patrick's day) at the 
 new chapel of the north abbey, to which he went in 
 procession through the main street of the city, sup- 
 ported by two Franciscan friars, and attended by 
 several other friars in their habits. Many traditionary 
 anecdotes are remembered of James's sojourn in Cork, 
 which tend to shew, that mercy, although the royal 
 prerogative, was one sparingly exercised by that king. 
 His sanction of the execution of Mr. Brown, a magis- 
 trate and a Protestant gentleman of consideration ii: 
 the county, was, under the circumstances, a cruel and 
 impolitic act ; and the shooting on the spot, without 
 trial, a recruit whose musket had accidentally gone off, 
 was an unnecessary display of despotism. 
 
 On Wednesday, the 20th March, James rode to 
 Lismore Castle, where he is said to have started back 
 with surprise at beholding the height of tiie window 
 from which he looked upon the Blackwater. That 
 night he slept at Clonmel. On Thursday he rested in 
 the Castle of Kilkenny ; and on Friday night, after 
 being at Carlow, " slabbered with the kisses of the
 
 24 KING James's 
 
 rude country Irish gentlewomen, so that he was forced 
 to beg to have them kept from him," the king slept at 
 Sir Maurice Eustace's, near Kilcullen Bridge, distant 
 seventeen miles from Dublin. 
 
 The journey was chiefly performed by James on 
 horseback, and he always made a point of riding through 
 the towns and villages. During this royal progress, 
 the roads were thronged with the peasantry, to be 
 recognised in Irish history under the name of Rappa- 
 rees,* or the more antiquated name of Tories, who 
 
 * The word Rapparee is explained by O'Reilly, as " a liti- 
 gious, bullying fellow." 
 
 " Not only the men," says M'Kenzie, iu his ' Narrative of 
 the Siege of Londonderry' (1690), " but the women and boys 
 too, began to furnish themselves with skeans and half pikes ; 
 it being the great business of the Irish smiths in tlie countiy 
 to make this sort of arms for them. These were afterwards 
 called Rapparees, a sort of Irish vultures that follow their 
 armies to prey on their spoil." Dean Story observes of the 
 Rapparees, that they were "very prejudicial to our [William's] 
 army, as well by killing our men privately, as stealing our 
 horses and intercepting our provisions. But after all," he 
 adds, " lest the next age may not be of the same humour 
 with this, and the name of Rapparee may possibly be thought 
 a finer thing than it really is, I do assure you that, iu my 
 style, they can never be reputed other than tories, robbers, and 
 bog-trotters." 
 
 O'Hallorau, who would excite our sympathy on behalf of 
 " those imhappy freebooters, called Rapparees," states that 
 " they were too numerous to be employed in the [Irish] army, 
 and their miseries often obliged them to prey alike upon friend 
 and foe; at length some of the most daring of them formed 
 themselves into independent compcmies^ whose subsistence 
 chiefly arose from depredations committed on the enemy."
 
 WELCOME TO IRELAND. 25 
 
 were armed with half pikes, skeins, or daggers, and 
 affected a militarj' appearance. 
 
 About noon, on Saturday, the 24th March, James 
 entered Dublin. The way on both sides, from the St. 
 James's Gate to the Castle, was lined with soldiers, 
 and strewed with fresh gi-avel. At the entrance of the 
 liberty of the city, a stage had been erected covered 
 with tapestry, on which were placed two harpers ; 
 "and below," says a contemporary writer,* "a great 
 number of friars, with a large cross, singing ; and 
 about forty oyster wenches, poultry and herb women, 
 in white," who danced along by the side of the king to 
 the castle, " here and there strewing flowers. Some 
 hung out of their balconies, tapestry and cloth of arras ; 
 and others imitating them, sewed together the coverings 
 of Turkey work chairs, and bandle cloth blankets, and 
 hung them out likewise on each side of the street." 
 
 " About a mile from Dublin, he [the king] called 
 for a fresh pad-nag, which, turning about to be brought 
 him, got loose, and forced him to stay, which did, in 
 some measure, vex him, so that he said to Tyrconnel, 
 ' I think you are all boder'd.' " 
 
 After the siege of Limerick, a reward of forty shillings 
 was offered for the head of every Rapparee who did not sub- 
 mit himself. Upon which it has been asked, how a magistrate 
 was to distinguish the head of a Rapparee from any other 
 head ? A smart passage on this subject occurs in O'Uriscol's 
 " History of Ireland," vol. ii. p. 356. 
 
 * " Ireland's Lamentation," &c. written by an English 
 Protestant that lately narrowly escaped with his life tVom 
 thence. London, printed by J. D. KiHi).
 
 26 KING James's 
 
 At the proper point, James was met by " the lord 
 mayor, aldermen, common-council, master, wardens, 
 and brethren of the several companies, in their form- 
 alities, the king and herald at arms, pursevants, and 
 servants of the household, and there received the sword 
 of state (which he gave to Tyrconnel, who carried it 
 before him through the city), and the sword and keys 
 of the city, and there had a speech made to welcome 
 him to that loyal city and people, by Counsellor Dillon, 
 who, that morning, was sworn recorder in the room of 
 Counsellor Barnwell. 
 
 " From thence he set forward toward the castle, pre- 
 ceded by five or six coaches with six horses each, two 
 callashes, four or five carts, and one close waggon, at- 
 tended by five or six French troopers ; next them fol- 
 lowed about two hundred of the stragglers of the city 
 that went out to meet him ; and after them, Major 
 Barker, of the royal regiment, bareheaded, giving orders 
 to the soldiers to keep the middle of the street clear, 
 and stand with their muskets shouldered ; then twenty- 
 nine horsemen, bareheaded, shouting before Mr. Fitz- 
 james, who was alone in one of Tyrconnel's coaches 
 with six horses. Close after him followed three officers 
 of the guard on horseback, attended by three led 
 horses ; after them, fifteen or sixteen officers of the 
 army, closely followed by the five trumpets and kettle- 
 drums of state m their liveries. After them, about 
 twenty of the gentlemen at large on horseback ; then 
 the messengers and pursevants, servants of the house- 
 hold ; next them, the herald and king-at arms ; close 
 after them, Tyrconnel, carrying the sword of state im-
 
 WELCOME TO IRELAND. 27 
 
 mediately before King James, who rid on a pad-nag in 
 a plain cinnamon- coloured cloth suit, and black slouch- 
 ing hat, and a George hung over his shoulder with a 
 blue ribbon. He was attended by the Duke of Ber- 
 wick, Lord Granard, and some maids running by him 
 on his left hand ; the Lords Powis and Melfort on his 
 right, with their hats on. Close after him followed a 
 troop of dragoons, several gentlemen and officers, two 
 troops of horse, and many attendants. After them, six 
 lords' coaches with six horses each ; then Judge Keating 
 in scarlet, and next after his, three other gentlemen's 
 coaches empty, with six horses each ; then three coaches 
 with two horses each ; and then, last of all, the confused 
 rabble on foot." 
 
 As King James was " riding along in this order," 
 continues the minute narrator of his entry into Dublin, 
 " one Flemming, a pretended mad Scotsman, in Skinner 
 Row, the middle of the city, suddenly rushed through 
 the crowd, flung his hat over the king's head, crying in 
 French, with a loud voice, ' Let the king live for ever,' 
 caughtsuddenly (madman-like) fast hold of the king's 
 hand and kist it, and so ran capering after his hat. 
 
 " As James marched thus along, the pipers of the 
 several companies played the tune of ' The king enjoys 
 his own again ;' and the people shouting and crying, 
 ' God save the king.' And if any Protestants were ob- 
 served not to shew their zeal that way, they were im- 
 mediately reviled and abused by the rude papists. And 
 [James] being come thus to the castle, [he] alighted 
 from his horse, and was met at the gate by the host, 
 overshaded with a canopy bore up by four popish
 
 28 KING James's 
 
 bishops, and accompanied with a numerous train of 
 friars singing, and others of that clergy. And among 
 the rest, the titular primate with a triple crown ui^on 
 his head, representing the pope, who this unfortunate 
 and bigotted prince no sooner saw, but he forthwith 
 went down upon his knees to pray to the image, and 
 for a blessing from this Irish pope. And from thence 
 [James was] conducted into the chapel there (made by 
 Tyrconnel of Henry ComwelFs riding-house), where 
 Te Deiim was sung for his happy arrival. Thence he 
 retired into an apartment prepared in a new house 
 built before in the castle by Tyrconnel, and there dined 
 and refreshed himself." 
 
 The following song, which is given from the recita- 
 tion of an old lady, was probably that sung by the 
 pretty "oyster wenches, poultry and herb women in 
 white," who strewed flowers beside the king. There is 
 some slight resemblance between the first verse, and 
 one of a Jacobite song, called " King William's March," 
 a satire on William's departure to join his army in Ire- 
 land previous to the battle of the Boyne, the burden of 
 which song is, " O Willie, Willie wan beard." 
 
 " Play, piper — play, piper. 
 Play a bonny spring, 
 For there's an auld harper 
 Harping to the king. 
 Wi' his sword by his side. 
 An' bis sign by his reade. 
 An' his crown on bis head 
 Like a true king."
 
 WELCOME TO IRELAND. 29 
 
 KING JAMES'S WELCOME TO IRELAND. 
 
 Play, piper — play, piper, 
 
 Come, lasses, dance and sing, 
 And old harpers strike up 
 
 To harp for the king. 
 He is come — he is come, 
 
 Let us make Ireland ring 
 With a loud shout of welcome, 
 
 May God save the king. 
 
 Bring ye flowers — bring ye flowers. 
 
 The fresh flowers of spring, 
 To strew in the pathway 
 
 Of James our true king. 
 And better than flowers, 
 
 May our good wishes bring 
 Along life of glory 
 
 To James our true king. 
 
 Huzza, then — huzza, then. 
 
 The news on the wing. 
 Triumphant he comes 
 
 Amid shouts for the king. 
 All blessings attend him, 
 
 May evei'y good thing 
 Be showered on the brave head 
 
 Of James, our true king.
 
 30 
 
 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 
 
 " The defence of Derry," says O'Driscol,* " has 
 been much celebrated ; but never beyond, hardly ever 
 as much, as it merited. Few sieges have had more 
 effect upon the fate of nations ; none ever displayed 
 more heroic devotion and endurance on the part of the 
 besieged." 
 
 The story of the siege of Derry, is a long and a me- 
 lancholy one. Tyrconnel having withdrawn the garri- 
 son in order to enable him to send Irish troops to 
 England to support the cause of James, soon perceived 
 his error, and he endeavoured to remedy it by ordering 
 Lord Antrim's regiment, which consisted wholly of 
 Roman Catholics, to regarrison the town. On the 7th 
 December, 1688, the advanced party of this regiment 
 appeared within a short distance of the gate, when 
 about a dozen young men, whose names are fondly re- 
 membered in local history as " the 'prentice boys," 
 closed the gate and drew up the bridge, and, seizing 
 upon the keys of the town, they secured the otlier thi-ee 
 gates, and refused to admit King James's soldiers. 
 Their conduct being approved of by a large and influ- 
 ential body of the inhabitants, guards were posted, the 
 magazine and all the arms that could be collected taken 
 possession of, and an agent was despatched to London 
 
 * History of Ireland, vol. ii. p. 14 ; 1827.
 
 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 31 
 
 with an urgent application for support. " On this sud- 
 den, and apparently unimportant movement," it is justly 
 remarked by Di-. Reid,* " the fate of the three kingdoms 
 ultimately depended." 
 
 The result of these violent proceedings was, that 
 Lord Antrim's " red shanks" retired ; and a negociation 
 followed, by which a free and general pardon for all 
 that had passed was granted, and a small body of Pro- 
 testant soldiers only were to be admitted into Derry, 
 commanded by Lord Mountjoy, who vvas known to be 
 attached to the Protestant cause. On Lord Mountjoy 
 being recalled, he was succeeded by Colonel Lundy, a 
 professed friend of the Protestants ; but, as subsequently 
 appeared, a decided partisan to James, owing, it is 
 asserted, to his being under several obligations to the 
 Duke of Berwick.-l- 
 
 Derry had become the principal refuge of the Pro- 
 testants of the north of Ireland, who chose rather the 
 hazard of standing on their defence, than of submit- 
 ting to the persecution they were likely to suffer under 
 Tyrconnel's government. But Lundy's reputation as 
 an officer of honour, courage, and skill, stood so high, 
 that "the Ulster Protestants, who had entered into an 
 armed association for the protection of their lives, 
 liberty, and property, determined, although he had 
 been appointed by Tyrconnel, to put themselves under 
 his command. 
 
 * History of the Presbyterian Church iu Ireland, vol. ii. 
 p. 440. London, 1837. 
 
 f Life of the Duke of Berwick, p. 36. London, 1738.
 
 32 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 
 
 While these occurrences took place, James arrived 
 in Ireland, and, on the 8th of April, left Dublin at the 
 head of an array of 12,000 men, with a considerable train 
 of artillery, intending to reduce the refractory north to 
 submission, and then to proceed to Scotland. In ten 
 days after the king left Dublin, he appeared before 
 Londonderry, which place he expected would immedi- 
 ately be surrendered to him ; but, to his astonishment, 
 the reply to the royal summons was a heavy discharge 
 of cannon from the walls. 
 
 Although two regiments had arrived from England 
 to aid in the defence of Derry, Lundy stated " that 
 they had provisions but for a very few days, a week or 
 ten days at most, and that the people who were in the 
 city were but a rabble," therefore, that the place was 
 not tenable, and he advised the newly-arrived troops to 
 return, which they did. Upon the determination of the 
 council of war being promulgated, that Derry was to 
 be given up to King James, the cries of "treachery" 
 and " no surrender" resounded through the city, and 
 at this critical moment Captain Adam Murray, the 
 commander of a volunteer corps, arrived in the town. 
 He remonstrated with Lundy, and encouraged the 
 inhabitants to defend the place, upon which they 
 rushed to the walls, and fired upon James and his 
 advancing army. The men of Derry now prepared 
 for an obstinate defence. " Their choice of governors 
 was as extraordinary as the whole proceeding had been 
 strange." Major Baker, a military officer, and the 
 Rev. George Walker, a Protestant clergyman, were
 
 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 33 
 
 elected to the government of the besieged town, and 
 the treacherous Lundy escaped in disguise, " with a 
 load of match on his back." 
 
 It has been as eloquently as truly observed, that, " in 
 mockery of all human wisdom, it was the very folly of 
 the mob that saved the town ; it was the madness of a 
 crowd of fools that snatched this important fortress 
 from the grasp of James, and contributed materially to 
 the successful issue of the war. The defence of Derry 
 was accomplished at an expense., no doubt, of enormous 
 and incalculable snfFering. Most of the population 
 perished miserably, and only a wasted and I'uined rem- 
 nant of the people survived to enjoy their melancholy 
 triumph." 
 
 Nothing could exceed the excitement of the besieged, 
 and nothing but that excitement could have enabled 
 them to sustain a siege of one hundred and five days. 
 
 " The Protestant clergy of all denominations," says 
 O'Driscol, " shared the labours of the siege in their 
 turns ; and when the day's work was over, and their 
 military tasks were at an end, they took their places 
 in the churches and conventicles.* There the people 
 crowded to their devotions, — weary, indeed with the 
 toils and labours of the day, and fainting, perhaps, for 
 want of sufficient food, but still with the high excite- 
 ment which the perils and the importance of the occa- 
 
 * There were eighteen clergymen iu the town of the com- 
 munion of the church, and seven non-conforming ministers. — 
 Walker.
 
 34 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 
 
 sion created ; and when the preacher poured forth his 
 labouring heart at the feet of the great disposer of 
 events, the God of armies, and the ruler of the destiny 
 of nations, the people joined in the prayer with a solemn 
 energy of devotion which those only know who have 
 been in ' peril of their lives,' and in ' the toil of their 
 enemies.' The awful circumstances in which the city 
 was placed, were inspiration to the preacher, and fer- 
 vent and undoubting faith to the congregation. The 
 ' man of God' had no need of the ornaments of speech, 
 while the thunder of the enemies' cannon roared round 
 the walls ; and the doubts of the sceptic, and the jests 
 of the scoffer fled before the face of famine, and the 
 rebuke of unrelenting misery. 
 
 " Thirty thousand fugitives, including aged men, 
 boys, women, and children from the neighbouring dis- 
 tricts, exclusive of the garrison, were shut up within 
 the walls of Derry.* Those could render no assistance 
 in the defence. The besiegers were estimated at twenty 
 thousand. When the rulers of this little republic looked 
 around them upon the multitude that were to be fed, 
 and abroad upon the host that encompassed them, 
 even their utmost enthusiasm could hardly sustain their 
 confidence, or their most exalted piety preserve them 
 from despair." 
 
 " It did beget," says Walker, " some disorder among 
 us, and confusion, when we looked about us, and saw 
 
 * Of these 10,000 left upon protections from the enemy, 
 and 7,000 died.— Walker.
 
 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 35 
 
 what we were doing; our enemies all about us, and 
 our friends running away from us. A garrison we had, 
 composed of a number of poor people frightened from 
 their own homes, who seemed more fit to hide them- 
 selves than to face an enemy. When we considered 
 that we had no persons of any experience in war among 
 us, and those very persons that were sent to assist us 
 had so little confidence in the place, that they no sooner 
 saw it than they thought fit to leave it ; that we had but 
 few horse to sally out with, and no forage ; no engineers 
 to instruct us in our works ; no fire- works, not so much 
 as a hand-granado to annoy the enemy ; not a gun well 
 mounted in the whole town ; that we had so many 
 mouths to feed, and not above ten days' provisions for 
 them in the opinion of our former governors ; that 
 every day several left us, and gave constant intelligence 
 to the enemy ; that they had so many opportunities to 
 divide us, and so often endeavoured it, and to betray 
 the governors ; that they were so numerous, so powerful 
 and well-appointed an army, that, in all human proba- 
 bility, we could not think ourselves in less danger than 
 the Israelites at the Red Sea. When we considered all 
 this, it was obvious enough what a dangerous under- 
 taking we had ventured upon. But the resolution and 
 courage of our people, and the necessity we were under, 
 and the great confidence and dependence amongst us 
 on God Almighty, that he would take care of us and 
 preserve us, made us overlook all those difficulties." 
 
 " This quotation, from the diary of this singular man," 
 observes O'Driscol, " is admirably descriptive of the 
 
 D 2
 
 36 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 
 
 situation and condition of the besieged. Their defence 
 was conducted in a most unmilitar}- and irregular man- 
 ner, but it was effectual. Those who chose sallied 
 against the enemy, in what order, and with what accom- 
 paniment they pleased, and their sallies were frequent. 
 The town was almost in ruins ; the gates were often 
 open ; and the besieged would scornfully invite the 
 attack of their enemy, and ask why he lost his powder 
 upon the walls when the gates were open to him ? 
 
 " The high-wrought enthusiasm of the besieged 
 seems to have deterred the Irish commanders from the 
 attack, and they resolved to wait the slow but certain 
 progress of famine." 
 
 Having vainly essayed to take " Undaunted London- 
 derry," which, to use the expression of Story, " was the 
 greatest thorn in their sides," .James returned to 
 Dublin, and committed the conduct of the siege to 
 General de Rosen, a foreign officer of some reputation. 
 " Every day increased the sufferings of the unhappy 
 garrison. Disease followed upon the rear of famine. 
 Exhausted with incessant labour, perishing of hunger, 
 sick from unwholesome and unnatural food, hope for- 
 sook them, and they surrendered themselves to despair, 
 but not to the enemy. They could not yet resolve to 
 submit. 
 
 "While in this state of sullen stupor, they were sud- 
 denly roused by the appearance of ships in the lake 
 bearing British ensigns. It was a fleet of thirty sail, 
 bringing troops, arms, ammunition, and provisions for 
 the relief of the garrison. The joy and exultation of
 
 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 87 
 
 the perishing people of Derry knew no bounds. It was 
 to them a resurrection from death to life ; from bond- 
 age to liberty. They gazed with ecstacy upon the ships 
 as they continued their steady course upon the beauti- 
 ful waters of Lough Foyle ; every heart beat high, as 
 ship after ship bore up and displayed her white canvass 
 to the anxious crowd close wedged upon the ramparts. 
 Every voice whispered fervent murmurs of thanks- 
 giving to the God of the land and of the ocean, who 
 never deserts his faithful people in their extremity, or 
 consigns those who trust in him to the hands of his 
 enemies. 
 
 " On a sudden, the ships were observed to haul to 
 windward, to the amazement of the garrison, and the 
 surprise of the army outside the walls. What could be 
 the meaning of this manoeuvre ? It was soon explained ; 
 the ships were standing out to sea. Signal followed 
 rapidly after signal from the dismayed inhabitants of 
 Derry, and Kirk made no signal in return. 
 
 "Meantime the Irish take their measures. Batteries 
 are planted along the shore, strong battalions are 
 marched to the water's edge, and line the borders of 
 the lake where they approach the city. A boom of 
 great strength, formed of timber, strong cables, and 
 vast iron chains, is stretched across a narrow part of 
 the lake, and made firm upon either shore. While all 
 this is transacting, the fleet was rapidly passing out of 
 sight. 
 
 " Faith and patience are the great foundations of the 
 Christian religion ; and, though all are called upon to
 
 38 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 
 
 practise them, there have been few instances, perhaps, 
 of a severer trial than this was to the forlorn citizens of 
 Derry. When the hand is stretched out to save and 
 instantly withdrawn ; when the time is come, and to- 
 morrow will be too late, can the victim be accused if he 
 dies with murmurs upon his lip ? 
 
 " Baker, the governor, was dead ; and famine was 
 now rapidly thinning the ranks of the heroic garrison 
 more effectually than the sword of the enemy. Their 
 food was dead horses, dogs, cats, rats, and all loathsome 
 vermin. The extremity and horror of the famine had 
 nearly dissolved all discipline and authority. Murmurs 
 for a capitulation began to be heard among the dying 
 and ghastly crowd, and were only suppressed by the 
 fury of those who had become almost insane by their 
 sufferings. They threatened death to any who should 
 propose or mention a surrender, while they were 
 themselves expiring and without hope. Their detesta- 
 tion of Popery seemed to derive strengtii from the decay 
 of nature. 
 
 "They heard in a shoi't time from Kirk; he had 
 sailed round to Lough Swilly. He still talked of relieving 
 them, but he spoke doubtingly. He assured them that 
 everything went on well in England and Scotland for 
 the Protestant cause, and advised them to hold out 
 bravely, and be careful of their provisions. It was un- 
 certain whether Kirk's communications were not a cruel 
 mockery." 
 
 Marshal de Rosen, annoyed at the obstinacy with 
 which Londonderry resisted, had recourse to a cruel and
 
 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 39 
 
 unsoldierlike mode of attack — appealing to the hearts of 
 the besieged, instead of storming their batteries. He 
 sent out parties to collect all the miserable Protestants 
 they could find about the country, without regard to 
 age or sex, and these were driven, by Rosen's orders, 
 under the walls of the tovvn to perish, unless saved by 
 its capitulation. The besieged in return brought 
 forth their prisoners ; and, having erected a gallows 
 upon the rampart, threatened to hang them imme- 
 diately, unless the unfortunate creatures who had been 
 driven under the walls were allowed to depart. This 
 had the desired effect, but many had already died from 
 the hardships to which they were exposed ; and some, 
 as they expired, with their last breath, entreated the 
 famishing garison to persevere in the defence of the 
 place. 
 
 " The tumult of the retreating multitude had hardly 
 ceased outside the walls, when three ships were disco- 
 vered, in the lake, with all sails set, and steering for 
 the town. These were two store-sloops, laden with 
 provisions, and the Dartmouth frigate, part of Kirk's 
 squadron. Kirk had learned that his conduct at Derry 
 bad been heard with anger and astonishment in Eng- 
 land, and he hastened to avert the storm which he 
 saw was likely to overtake him. His dastardly or 
 treacherous conduct had lengthened the sufferings 
 of Derry from the middle of June to the end of 
 July. 
 
 " The ships approached in view of the besiegers and 
 the besieged ; but of the latter, more than half the eyes
 
 40 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 
 
 were closed in death that had witnessed the former in- 
 effectual attempt at relief. The Irish army had taken 
 their posts along the shore ; the batteries that com- 
 manded the harbour were manned ; the boom was 
 made tight, and all was in readiness. As the vessels 
 came within the range of shot, a heavy fire of cannon 
 and musketry was opened upon them from the Irish 
 lines along the shore. They returned the fire with 
 spirit, and continued to advance. At length the head- 
 most store-ship approached the boom, and struck it ; 
 the boom was broke, but the vessel went ashore with 
 the violence of the rebound. The besieging army 
 shouted, and prepared to board her; but the vessel 
 fired all her guns, and, extricated by the shock, she 
 floated and passed rapidly unto the city followed by her 
 companions. 
 
 "The garrison of Derry had consisted of about 
 eight thousand men; it was now reduced to less than 
 four. The Irish army broke up suddenly and retired 
 — their loss is said to have exceeded that of the garri- 
 son." 
 
 Walker, the gallant defender of Londonderry, pro- 
 ceeded to London with an address to King William and 
 his queen, and was received by their majesties in the 
 most gracious manner. Thanks were voted to him by 
 the House of Commons, and delivered in form by the 
 Speaker ; he was entertained by the city, and cheered 
 wherever he was recognised by the populace, as the 
 champion of the Protestant faith ; the honorary degree 
 of Doctor of Divinity was conferred on him by the
 
 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 41 
 
 University of Oxford ; the king presented him with 
 £5,000; and, by his majesty's command, Sir Godfrey 
 Kneller painted Walker's picture, which was imme- 
 diately engraved. In this picture he is represented 
 " with a Bible, open at the 20th chapter of Exodus, in 
 one hand, and a drawn sword in the other. His gar- 
 ment of a purple colour, and a large old-fashioned 
 band, form a strong contrast to the military sash ap- 
 pearing in crimson folds about his waist," in which a 
 pistol is lodged. 
 
 While in London, Walker published his " Diary of 
 the Siege of Londonderry," which was followed by no 
 less than nine publications on the same subject. In the 
 address prefixed to his " Diary," he apologizes as a 
 churchman, for having acted in that service a part which 
 might, with more propriety, have been done by other 
 hands. It is impossible that Walker could have been 
 made Bishop of Derry, as stated by O'Driscol, for that 
 see was not vacant until the day previous to the Battle 
 of the Boyne, where Walker was mortally wounded, 
 and where he was engaged as chaplain to the army. 
 
 O'Driscol, whose animated account of the " Siege of 
 Derry" has been so largely quoted from, therefore very 
 unfairly says, " This man was unnecessarily present at 
 the Boyne. Walker's exploits at Derry," he adds, 
 " might have had an excuse in the peculiarity of his 
 situation ; but neither his exhibitions in London, nor 
 his presence at the Boyne, can be; justified." Now, the 
 fact is, Walker was a hero in Derry, the advocate of 
 his brave fellow-sufferers in London, and, in the course
 
 42 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 
 
 of his duty as a Protestant clergyman, was slain at the 
 Boyne.* 
 
 * Mr. Bruce, in a note to the Editor, remarks upon this 
 passage : — " You are probably aware that there is a letter of 
 Tillotson's, in which he says ' the king . . . hath made him 
 [Walker] Bishop of Londonderry.' You say the see was not 
 vacant until the day before the Battle of the Boyne : i.e. the 
 30th June. Now I find in Wood's ' Athenae' (iv. 288), that 
 Bishop Hopkins died on the 19th June, 1690, and was buried 
 on the 24th, in St. Mary Aldermanbury. It is possible, if 
 Wood's date be right, that Walker may have been appointed, 
 although Wood himself, in another place (iv. 877), merely 
 says that he ' was designed to succeed' Bishop Hopkins ; 
 which is probably all that is true, and that the design may have 
 existed long before Hopkins's death. After all, the question 
 is, not whether he was Bishop of Derry, but whether he was 
 chaplain to the army. If he w'ere, he was in his place at the 
 Boyne, whether bishop or not. And upon that point Wood 
 aids you ; for, immediately after stating that on his way 
 back into Ireland he had the degree of D.D. conferred upon 
 him at Oxford, he goes on : ' thence he went into Ireland, 
 where having a command conferred upon him in the army 
 (iv. 409) he ' received his death's wound,' and so on in 
 Wood's usual ballad style. One can scarcely conceive any 
 other 'command' than a chaplaincy conferred upon a new- 
 made D.D. It is very strange that Burnet does not mention 
 even the name of Walker. 
 
 " It seems from an extract from Anchitell Gray's Debates, 
 in the ' Gentleman's Magazine' for 1745, p. 192, that the 
 House of Commons recommended the king to grant ' the 
 widows and orphans of Londonderry' £10,000, and that they 
 communicated their determination upon that head to Dr. 
 Walker at the same time that they returned him thanks for 
 his defence. Walker was apparently the bearer of the peti- 
 tion of ' the widows and orphans ;' of itself a sufficient cause 
 for his coming to London. He returned the house thanks on 
 their behalf as well as his own."
 
 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 48 
 
 Dr. Reid, in his " History of the Presbyterian Church 
 in Ireland," says,* "It is painful to be obliged to add, 
 that the gallant defenders of Derry and Enniskillen 
 were treated very ungratefully by the state. Instead 
 of being in any wise rewarded, they did not even re- 
 ceive the amount of pay which was acknowledged by 
 parliament to be justly due to them." Dr. Reid then 
 enters into various particulars on this subject, the result 
 of which is, that after two-and-thirty years of tedious 
 and fruitless negociations, 1^,1 511. \7s.8d. arrears were 
 due to the eight regiments that formed the garrison of 
 Derry, " not a farthing of which appears to have been 
 ever paid." Upon this statement, however, it may be 
 questioned whether the Derry and Enniskillen troops 
 were not in the same position as the thirteen Dutch and 
 three French regiments, who served with thein in Ire- 
 land, regarding their claims for arrears of pay, and 
 whose cases were printed in 1709, with "the case of 
 several of tlie inhabitants of Ireland, that subsisted 
 the army there for the year 1690 and 1691 pursuant to 
 the directions of the government;" and to whom and 
 not to the troops, this arrear of their pay appears to 
 have been due. 
 
 In the " Memoir of the Ordnance Survey of Lon- 
 donderry,"f it is stated that, '• after a lapse of more 
 than two centuries, the fortifications of Derry remain 
 nearly unchanged in their original form and character ; 
 the external ditch, indeed, is no longer visible, being 
 
 * Vol. ii. note, p. 473. f Vol. i. p. 100. Dublin, 1837.
 
 44 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY, 
 
 mostly occupied by the rears of houses. Between 1806 
 and 1808, the walls were repaired at a cost of 1,119/. 
 6s. 2d. In 1824, the north-west bastion was demolished 
 to make room for the erection of a market; and, in 
 1826, the central western bastion was modified for the 
 reception of Walker's Testimonial — an ornamental 
 memorial, both just and appropriate. 
 
 " Of the guns which performed such valuable services 
 in by-gone time, a few are preserved as memorials in 
 their original localities, the bastions ; but the greater 
 number have been converted to the quiet purposes of 
 peace, serving as posts for fastening cables, protecting 
 the corners of streets, &c. There are six at the south- 
 west bastion, two of which are inscribed ' vintners, 
 
 LONDON. 1648.' ' MERCERS, LONDON. 1642.' Of the 
 
 others, one bears the arms of Elizabeth — a rose sur- 
 mounted by a crown, with the letters ' E. R.' at each 
 side ; and below, the date 1590. Another, the arms of 
 the Irish Society ; and a third, a less decipherable de- 
 vice. Of these three, the first was one of the few 
 pieces of ordnance possessed by the city on the out- 
 break of the rebellion of 1641. There are four at 
 Walker's Testimonial, two of which are inscribed 
 
 ' MERCHANT TAYLORS, LONDON. 1642.' ' GROCERS, 
 
 LONDON. 1642.' Mounted on a carriage, in the court- 
 house-yard, and in good condition, stands ' Roaring 
 Meg,' so called from the loudness of her roaring during 
 the siege. This cannon is four feet six inches round at 
 the thickest part, and eleven feet long, and is thus in- 
 scribed, 'FISHMONGERS, LONDON. 1642.' The total
 
 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 45 
 
 number of cannon remaining in the city and suburbs is 
 nearly fifty." 
 
 The song upon the gallant defence of Londonderry 
 is here given from a black letter copy in the British 
 Museum, preserved in a collection of ballads, &c. 2 
 vols, folio. The title runs thus : " Undaunted London- 
 derry ; or, the Victorious Protestants' constant success 
 against the proud French and Irish Forces. To the 
 tune of ' Lilli Borlero.' Licensed according to Order." 
 It is embellished with a rude woodcut, representing a 
 city in flames, and bearing the word " Londonderry." 
 " Printed for J. Deacon, in Guiltspur Street." 
 
 This song is quite unworthy of the achievement that 
 it was intended to celebrate. Among the poems* of 
 the Rev. John Graham, the historian and bard of Derry, 
 may be found several clever lyrics referring to the me- 
 morable siege of " the maiden city ;" one in particular, 
 entitled "The Catalogue" (p- 97), which consists of 
 no less than thirty-six verses, combines all the vigorous 
 simplicity of the old ballad, with an extraordinary mass 
 of minute historical particulars. Although not in- 
 cluded in Mr. Graham's volume of poems, the editor 
 believes that he does not incorrectly attribute the 
 authorship of the following spirited verses to that gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 " Derriana ! lovely dame. 
 By many suitors courted ; 
 Thy beauty rare and deeds of fame. 
 Have been but ill reported. 
 
 * Belfast, 1829.
 
 4b* UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 
 
 " Seated in dignity serene 
 Beside a crystal fountain, 
 In radiant comeliness thou'rt seen 
 O'ershadowed by a mountain. 
 
 " Round tliee are groves and villas bright, 
 And temples of devotion ; 
 Fair fields for plenty and delight, 
 And inlets of the ocean. 
 
 " What was proud Troy compared to thee, 
 Though Hector did command her ? 
 How great thy Foyle would seem to be 
 Near Homer's old Scamander ! 
 
 " Like thee, two sieges shai-p she stood. 
 By timid friends forsaken ; 
 But, unlike thee, twice drenched in blood, 
 She fainted and was taken. 
 
 " What was her cause compared to thine ? 
 A harlot she protected ; 
 But thou for Liberty divine 
 All compromise rejected. 
 
 " But Troy a bard of brilliant mind 
 Found out to sing her glory. 
 While thou canst only dunces find 
 To mar thy greater story." 
 
 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 
 
 Protestant boys, both valliant and stout, 
 Fear not the strength and power of Rome, 
 
 Thousands of them are put to the rout, 
 Brave Londonderry tells 'um their doom ;
 
 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 47 
 
 For their cannons roar like thunder, 
 
 Being resolved the town to maintain ; 
 For William and Mary, still brave Londonderry, 
 
 Will give the proud French and Tories their bane. 
 
 Time after time, veith powder and balls, 
 
 Protestant souls they did 'urn salute ; 
 That before Londonderry's stout walls, 
 
 Many arc slain and taken to boot ; 
 Nay. their noble Duke of Berwick, 
 Many reports, is happily tane,* 
 Where still they confine him, and will not resign him, 
 
 Till they have given the Tories their bane. 
 
 Into the town their bombs they did throw,f 
 
 Being resolved to fire the same. 
 Hoping thereby to lay it all low, 
 
 Could they but raise it into a flame ; 
 But the polititious Walker, j 
 
 By an intreague did quail them again, 
 And blasted the glory of French, Teague, and Tory, 
 
 By policy, boys, he gave them their bane. 
 
 Thundering stones they laid on the wall 
 
 Ready against the enemy came, § 
 With which they vow'd the Tories to mawl 
 
 Whene'er they dare approach but the same. 
 
 * See note (A). J See note (B). 
 
 t See note (C). § See note (D).
 
 48 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 
 
 And another sweet invention, 
 
 The which in brief I reckon to name ; 
 
 A sharp bloody slaughter, did soon follow after. 
 Among the proud French, and gave 'em their bane. 
 
 Stubble and straw in parcels they laid, 
 
 The which they straightways kindled with speed ; 
 By this intreague the French was betrayed, 
 
 Thinking the town was fired indeed.* 
 Then they placed their scaling ladders, 
 
 And o'er the walls did scour amain ; 
 Yet strait, to their wonder, they were cut in sunder. 
 
 Thus Frenchmen and Tories met with their bane. 
 
 Suddenly, then, they opened their gate. 
 
 Sallying forth with vigour and might ; 
 And, as the truth I here may relate, 
 
 Protestant boys did valliantly fight, 
 Taking many chief commanders,f 
 
 "While the sharp fray they thus did maintain 
 With vigorous courses, they routed their forces. 
 
 And many poor Teagues did meet with their bane. 
 
 While with their blood the cause they have sealed. 
 Heaven upon their actions did frown, 
 
 Protestants took the spoil of the field. 
 
 Cannons full five they brought to the town. 
 
 * See note (E). t See note (F).
 
 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 49 
 
 With a lusty, large, great mortar 
 
 Thus they returned with honour and gain, 
 
 While Papists did scour from Protestant power, 
 As fearing they all should suffer their bane. 
 
 In a short time we hope to arrive 
 
 With a vast army to Ireland, 
 And the affairs so well we'll contrive, 
 
 That they shall ne'er have power to stand 
 'Gainst King William and Queen Mary, 
 
 Who in the throne does flourish and reign ; 
 We'll down with the faction that make the distraction. 
 
 And give the proud French and Tories their bane. 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 (A) In a sally, which was made liy the garrison of London- 
 derry towards the end of April, " the Duke of Berwick re- 
 ceived a slight wound in his back." This was probably the 
 origin of the report mentioned in the song, and fixes the pre- 
 cise date of its composition to have been May 1689, as no 
 allusion to any subsequent occurrence is made. 
 
 (B) A list of the number of bombs thrown into London- 
 derry daily during the siege, may be found in Walker's 
 " Diary." The total number was 587, l)esides cannon-balls 
 of twenty pounds' weight. 
 
 E
 
 50 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 
 
 (C) " Violent disagreements arose as to the most acceptable 
 modes of addressing the Supreme Being. Some of the clergy 
 denounced those as unworthy to assist in the defence of the 
 town who refused to take the solemn covenant ; hut the good 
 sense of Walker and others appeased the tumult as often as 
 it broke forth, and no serious consequences followed." — 
 O^DriscoVs Ireland, vol. ii. p 16. 
 
 (D) The labour was probably performed by the women. In 
 Mackenzie's Narrative of the Siege (London, 1690), under 
 date of the 4th of June, it is stated, that " our women, also, 
 did good service, carrying ammunition, match, bread, and 
 drink to our men, and assisted to very good purpose at the 
 Bogg side, in beating off the granadiers with stones, who 
 came so near to our lines." 
 
 (E) This seems to refer to the burning of some houses 
 outside the walls soon after the commencement of the siege. 
 " The first thing they [the governors] went upon, was the 
 burning of all the houses clear round the town without the 
 walls, and levelling their rubbish and ditches, so that the 
 enemy might not sculk in them and gall the men on the 
 walls." — A true and impartial Account of the most material 
 passa(/cs in Ireland, since December 1688, p. 27. London, 
 1689. 
 
 (F) No doubt an allusion to the sally made by the besieged 
 on the 6th of May, when, according to Mackenzie, " the men 
 were impatient, and ran out of their own accord." Lord 
 Neterville, Sir Gerald Aylmur, and Lieut.-Col. Talbot (called 
 Wicked Will), and who afterwards died of his wounds, were 
 taken prisoners in this affair.
 
 UNDAUNTED LONDONDERRY. 51 
 
 ADDITIONAL NOTE. 
 
 Mr. Bruce views the action of this ballad in somewhat a 
 different light from the Editor. He says : — " Are you satisfied 
 that the lines to which your notes C, E, and F refer, relate to 
 separate transactions, which, if I apply the notes correctly 
 you seem to consider them to do ? The song reads to me as 
 if the whole of its action related to one incident in the siege- 
 The French threw their bombs, hoping to set the town on fire. 
 Walker defeated them by a stratagem. Stones had been pre- 
 viously piled on the walls, — he collected stubble and set it on 
 fire. The French thought they had succeeded, and mounted 
 the walls, where Walker's troops were ready stationed to use 
 their piles of stones and cut the assailants ' in sunder.' No 
 sooner had they thus repelled them, than out they sallied 
 ' with vigour and might,' and took the ' many chief com- 
 manders.' I think it is all one. If not, I do not understand 
 the praise of Walker's intrigue." 
 
 THE PROTESTANT COMMANDER. 
 
 On the 20th of March, 1690, in compliance with a 
 royal summons, a new parliament met at Westminster. 
 On the following day, King William addressed himself 
 to both houses, stating that he was resolved to leave 
 nothing unattempted on his part which might contribute 
 to the prosperity of the nation ; and finding his presence 
 in Ireland would be absolutely necessary for the more 
 
 e2
 
 52 THE PROTESTANT COMMANDER. 
 
 speedy reducing of that kingdom, he continued his re- 
 solution of going thither as soon as might be, and he 
 had now called them together for their assistance, to 
 enable him to prosecute the war with speed and vigour. 
 The king concluded a long speech by observing, that 
 the season of the year and his journey into Ireland, 
 would admit but of a very short session, so that he re- 
 commended to them the making such despatch, that 
 they might not be engaged in debates when their ene- 
 mies were in the field. 
 
 " All the people," says Dean Story, " were now big 
 with hopes of his Majesty's coming for Ireland, who left 
 Kensington the 4th of June, 1690, took shipping at 
 Hylake on the 12th, and on the 14th, being Saturday, 
 he landed, about four in the afternoon, at Carigfergus ;* 
 from whence, being upon the road to Belfast, he was 
 met by the general, Major-General Kirk, and a great 
 many more officers of the army, that were expecting 
 his Majesty's landing. And that evening landed his 
 highness Pi'ince George, the Duke of Ormond, Earl of 
 Oxford, Earl of Portland, Earl of Scarborough, Earl 
 of Manchester, my Lord Overkirk, my Loi'd Sidney, 
 with a great many other persons of quality, some of 
 them officers in the army, and others volunteers." 
 
 The following song is entitled, " The Protestant Com- 
 mander, or a Dialogue between him and his loving 
 
 * "A large stone at the point of the quay is still called 
 ' King William's stone,' from his having set bis foot on it 
 when landing." — McSkimin's History of Carrickfergus.
 
 THE PROTESTANT COMMANDER. 53 
 
 Lady, at his departure hence with his Majesty King 
 WiUiam, for the expedition in Ireland. To the tune of 
 ' Let Caesar live long.' Licensed according to order." 
 It is copied from a collection of ballads and broadsides, 
 in two vols, folio, in the British Museum, and is in 
 black letter, except the two last lines or chorus of each 
 verse, which are in Roman letter, with the exception of 
 the words " King William." This song is " printed for 
 P. Brooksby. J. Deacon.'' The rest of the imprint is 
 cut off, but it probably was " J. Blare and J. Black," 
 as these persons appear to have been the principal 
 ballad publishers in London during the Revolution of 
 1688. 
 
 THE PROTESTANT COMMANDER. 
 
 Farewell, my sweet lady, my love, and delight. 
 Under great King "William in person I'll fight ; 
 Wherefore for awhile I must leave thee behind, 
 Yet let not my absence, love, trouble thy mind : 
 In Dublin city our king we'll proclaim. 
 And crown him with trophies of honour and fame. 
 
 An army we have of true Protestant boys, 
 
 Who fears not the French nor the Irish, dear joys ; 
 
 We'll freely salute them with powder and ball, 
 
 Till we have utterly routed them all ; 
 
 The sword of King William his name shall proclaim, 
 
 And crown him with trophies of honour and fame.
 
 54 THE PROTESTANT COMMANDER. 
 
 Love, let me go with thee, the lady reply 'd, 
 
 I freely can venture to die by thy side ; 
 
 A heart of true courage I bear in my breast, 
 
 Therefore for King William I vow and protest, 
 
 A sword I will flourish his name to proclaim, 
 
 And crown him with trophies of honour and fame. 
 
 I'll strip oflP these jewels and rings which I wear, 
 And other apparel in brief I'll prepare ; 
 In bright shining armour I then will appear. 
 And march in the field by the side of my dear ; 
 The conquering sword shall King William proclaim, 
 And crown him with trophies of honour and fame. 
 
 My jewel, if thou hast a mind to go o'er 
 
 Along with thy love to the Irish shore ; 
 
 I freely will give my consent to this thing, 
 
 Yet not like a souldier to fight for the king : 
 
 His army is able his name to proclaim, 
 
 And crown him with trophies of honour and fame. 
 
 The court is more fit than the camp for my dear. 
 
 Where beautiful ladies in glory appear ; 
 
 While soldiers of fortune must fight in the field. 
 
 Until they have made the proud enemy yield. 
 
 The conquering sword shall King William proclaim, 
 
 And crown him with trophies of honour and fame. 
 
 My dearest, said she, I'll to Ireland go, 
 I value not courts, neither fear I the foe ;
 
 THE PROTESTANT COMMANDER. 55 
 
 Thy presence will yield me both joy and delight; 
 I'll wait in thy tent till, returning from fight, 
 The conquering sword does King William proclaim, 
 And crown him with trophies of honour and fame. 
 
 If thou shouldst be wounded, my dear, in the field, 
 Then shall I be ready some succour to yield, 
 'Tis true, my sweet lady, he straitways reply 'd, 
 Thy earnest desire shall not be deny'd ; 
 Our conquering sword shall King William proclaim, 
 And crown him with trophies of honour and fame. 
 
 The French and the Tories King William will rout, 
 
 From city to castle he'll course them about ; 
 
 We'll make the poor Teagues to quite change their tone. 
 
 From Lilli burlero to Ah I hone, ah ! hone. 
 
 With conquering sword we'll King William proclaim, 
 
 And crown him with trophies of honour and fame. 
 
 The Frenchmen the height of our fury shall feel. 
 We'll chase them with swords of true-tempered steel ; 
 They, food for the ravens and crows shall be made, 
 To* teach them hereafter that land to invade. 
 Then through the wholenation our king we'll proclaim, 
 And crown him with trophies of honour and fame. 
 
 * " And" in the printed copy, probably a printer's error. 
 " To" is substituted as the more obvious readiu"^.
 
 56 
 
 THE BOYNE WATER. 
 
 The Battle of the Boyne, although in its result 
 among the most important in Englisli history, was, as a 
 battle, neither remarkable for the length of time it 
 occupied, the severity of the conflict, the number of 
 killed, nor the skill displayed on either side. 
 
 A veteran, who was himself engaged in this battle, 
 has left us the following description of it,* which will 
 serve to correct the inflated accounts given by various 
 historians. " On the 29th of June we advanced to 
 Atherdee [Ardee], and on the SOth marched up to the 
 enemy and encamped within cannon-shot of them. 
 They were drawn up in good order, and to great ad- 
 vantage, on the other side of the Boyne, and seemed 
 resolved to dispute the passage of the river with us. 
 There was a rising ground on our side, which over- 
 looked their whole situation ; to this place they con- 
 cluded the King [William] would come to make his 
 observations. Whereupon they planted four field- 
 
 * " Memoirs of the most remarkable military transactions, 
 from the year 1683 to 1718, containing a more particular 
 account than any yet published, of the several battles, sieges, 
 &c. in Ireland and Flanders, during the reigns of King 
 William and Queen Anne, by Captain Robert Parker, late of 
 the Royal Regiment of Foot in Ireland, who was an eye-wit- 
 ness to most of them. Published by his son. Second Edition." 
 London, 176.3.
 
 THE BOYNE WATER. 57 
 
 pieces in a place proper for their purpose, under covert 
 of some bushes, which prevented them from being 
 discovered. The king came this evening to the very 
 spot they expected, and had not been long there when 
 they fired their four field-pieces at him. One of the 
 balls grazed on his shoulder, tore his clothes, and raised 
 a contusion in his skin ; but he soon had it dressed, and 
 shewed himself to the array. However, the enemy 
 observing some confusion in those about the king, con- 
 cluded he was killed ; and this news soon flew to Dub- 
 lin, and from thence to Paris, where they had public 
 rejoicings for it. 
 
 " Upon the king's taking a view of the enemy 
 [James's army], he observed they were strongly posted, 
 and drawn up to great advantage; and saw plainly it 
 would be a difficult matter to force them from their 
 ground, unless some measures were taken before the 
 battle began, which might oblige them to break the 
 order they were drawn up in. Upon this a council of 
 war was held, in which it was resolved that Lieut.- 
 General Douglas should march by break of day, with 
 about 8,000 men, to the ford of Slane, tvvo miles up 
 the river, in order to pass there, and fall on the left 
 flank of the enemy, while the king, with the main of 
 the army, charged them in front. 
 
 " Early next morning, being the first of July, both 
 armies were drawn up in order of battle, and General 
 Douglas marched off with his detachment. The enemy 
 perceiving this, ordered off" the greatest part of their 
 left wing to oppose Douglas ; and they were put into
 
 58 THE BOYNE WATER. 
 
 no small confusion, in drawing troops from other parts 
 in order to make good their left, which they had weak- 
 ened. This answered the king's expectation, who, 
 perceiving the disorder they were in, ordered the army 
 to pass the river.* The front line was over before the 
 enemy had recovered their disorder, and the king soon 
 passed over and put himself at the head of them. The 
 enemy, being now prepared, charged our first line, and 
 broke through some of them. And some of ours, in 
 their turn, obliged some of theirs to scamper. By this 
 time, our whole army having passed the river, we 
 charged each other alternately with various success. 
 But the engagement did not last long, for they soon 
 took to their heels, even before Douglas could come up 
 to engage those that were sent against him, notwithstand- 
 ing he had passed the ford before the king began the 
 battle. 
 
 " I have met," adds Captain Parker, " with several 
 accounts of this battle ; some of them very particular 
 in reciting all the charges and repulses that had been 
 made on both sides, as if it had lasted the greatest part 
 of the day, and the field had been covered with slain. 
 But, after all, the enemy made but a poor fight of it, as 
 may appear by the loss on both sides. The enemy had 
 not quite 800 killed, and about as many taken ; and 
 we not above 500 killed, and as many wounded." 
 
 This total of thirteen hundred killed, where sixty 
 
 * According to Story, " it was about a (j[uarter past ten 
 when our [William's] Foot first entered the river."
 
 THE BOYNE WATER. 59 
 
 thousand men were in the field to contest the crown of 
 England, headed by the claimants in person, gives the 
 Battle of the Boyne the character rather of a mere 
 skirmish to pass a difficult ford of a river than of an 
 important victory. In fact, it was James's panic that 
 made the Battle of the Boyne memorable. 
 
 " And a mighty creditable thing it was, surely, to 
 that same King William, as you call him, and some- 
 thing to boast of," observed an Irishman, commenting 
 upon this victory, " a mighty creditable thing, indeed, 
 to turn out against a man's father-in-law, and to beat 
 him." 
 
 It is noticed by Mr. Lockhart, in his life of Sir 
 Walter Scott, that an old officer of dragoons, hearing 
 of the arrival of " the great unknown" at Drogheda 
 (July 1825), sent in his card, with the polite offer to 
 attend him over the field of the Battle of the Boyne, 
 about two miles off, which, of course, was accepted. 
 " Sir Walter," adds Mr. Lockhart, " rejoicing the ve- 
 teran's heart by his vigorous recitation of the famous 
 ballad [The crossing of the wafer) as we proceeded to 
 the ground, and the eager and intelligent curiosity with 
 which he received his explanations of it." 
 
 This song has been called " the Great Orange Song 
 of Ireland. " The present version is given from a MS. 
 copy, in the Editor's possession, which corrects the read- 
 ing of a line in the seventh verse, invariably printed — 
 
 " And tried at Mihnount after.
 
 60 THE BOYNE WATER. 
 
 THE BOYNE WATER. 
 
 July the first, in Oldbridge town,* 
 
 There was a grievous battle, 
 Where many a man lay on the ground, 
 
 By the cannons that did rattle. 
 King James he pitched his tents between 
 
 The lines for to retire ; 
 But King William threw his bomb-balls in. 
 
 And set them all on fire. 
 
 Thereat enraged, they vow'd revenge 
 
 Upon King William's forces ; 
 And often did cry vehemently, 
 
 That they would stop their courses : 
 A bullet from the Irish came, 
 
 Which grazed King William's arm: 
 They thought his majesty was slain, 
 
 Yet it did him little harm. 
 
 Duke Schomberg then, in friendly care, 
 
 His king would often caution 
 To shun the spot, where bullets hot 
 
 Retain'd their rapid motion. 
 But William said, — He don't deserve 
 
 The name of Faith's defender. 
 That would not venture life and limb 
 
 To make a foe surrender. 
 
 * See note (A).
 
 THE BOYNE WATER. 61 
 
 When we the Boyne began to cross, 
 
 The enemy they descended ; 
 But few of our brave men were lost. 
 
 So stoutly we defended. 
 The horse was the first that marched o'er, 
 
 The foot soon followed a'ter, 
 But brave Duke Schomberg was no more 
 
 By venturing over the water. 
 
 When valiant Schomberg he was slain, 
 
 King William thus accosted 
 His warlike men, for to march on, 
 
 And he would be the foremost. 
 " Brave boys," he said, " be not dismayed 
 
 For the losing of one commander ; 
 For God will be our king this day, 
 
 And I'll be general under." 
 
 Then stoutly we the Boyne did cross, 
 
 To give our enemies battle ; 
 Our cannon, to our foes' great cost. 
 
 Like thundering claps did rattle. 
 In majestic mien our prince rode o'er, 
 
 His men soon followed a'ter: 
 With blows and shouts put our foes to the route, 
 
 The day we crossed the water. 
 
 The Protestants of Drogheda 
 
 Have reasons to be thankful 
 That they were not to bondage brought, 
 
 They being but a handful :
 
 62 THE BOYNE WATER. 
 
 First to the Tholsel they were brought. 
 And tied at Milmount a'ter,* 
 
 But brave King William set them free, 
 By venturing over the water. 
 
 The cunning French, near to Duleek,t 
 
 Had taken up their quarters ; 
 And fenced themselves on every side, 
 
 Still waiting for new orders. 
 But in the dead time of the night, 
 
 They set the field on fire ; 
 And, long before the morning light, 
 
 To Dublin they did retire. 
 
 Then said King WiUiam to his men, 
 
 After the French departed — 
 " I'm glad," said he, " that none of ye 
 
 Seemed to be faint-hearted. 
 So sheath your sw^ords, and rest awhile ; 
 
 In time we'll follow a'ter." 
 These words he uttered with a smile. 
 
 The day he crossed the water. 
 
 Come, let us all, with heart and voice. 
 Applaud our lives' defender, 
 
 Who, at the Boyne, his valour shewed. 
 And made his foes surrender. 
 
 * See note (B). t See note (C).
 
 THE BOYNE WATER. 63 
 
 To God above the praise we'll give, 
 
 Both now and ever a'ter ; 
 And bless the "glorious memory"* 
 
 Of King William that crossed theBoyne water. 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 (A) The Dutch guards first entered the river Boyne at a 
 ford opposite to the little village of Oldhridge. 
 
 (B) " After the battle of the Boyne, the popish garrison of 
 Drogheda took the protestants out of prison, into which they 
 Had thrown them, and carried them to the Mount ; where 
 they expected the cannon would play, if King William's 
 forces besieged the town. They tied them together, and set 
 them to receive the shot; but their hearts failed them who 
 were to defend the place, and so it pleased God to preserve 
 the poor protestants." — Memoirs of Ireland, hy the Author of 
 the Secret History of Europe. (1716) p. 221. 
 
 (C) " When, in the course of the day, the battle approached 
 James's position on the hill of Donore, the warlike prince 
 retired to a more secure distance at Duleek, where he soon 
 put himself at the head of his French allies, and led the 
 retreat ; the king and the French coming off without a scar." 
 — O'DriscoVs History of Ireland, ii. 116. 
 
 (D) Many curious anecdotes might be told about " the 
 glorious memory," It was the fashion among the whigs of 
 
 * See note (D).
 
 64 THE DEATH OF THE 
 
 William and Anne's time, as it was among the tories of our 
 day, to drink " the glorious, pious, and immortal memory" of 
 King William III ; which is supposed to have induced Dr. 
 Peter Brown, Bishop of Cork, to publish, in 1715, a little 
 volume which was much spoken of, intitled " Of Drinking in 
 Remembrance of the Dead ;" and in the following year " A 
 Discourse on Drinking Healths." His notion was, that 
 drinking to the dead is tantamount to praying for them, and 
 not, as is truly the case, in approbation of certain conduct or 
 principles. Neither whigs nor tories have been less copious 
 of their libations in consequence ; and the only effect Dr. 
 Brown's books appear to have had, was the production of an 
 addenda to the obnoxious toast, " and a fig for the Bishop of 
 Cork." 
 
 THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF 
 SCHOMBERG. 
 
 " The renowned Duke of Schomberg or Schonberg," 
 says a contemporary writer, " was a person of firm and 
 composed courage, and one of the best generals that 
 France ever bred. To the laurels he gathered in Cata- 
 lonia and in Flanders, he added the glory of having 
 fixed the present King of Portugal* on his throne, and 
 of having been instrumental to the settlement of King 
 William. He had a great experience of the world, 
 
 * Pedro II.
 
 DUKE OF SCHOMBERG. 65 
 
 knew men and things better than any man of his pro- 
 fession ever did, and was as great in council as at the 
 head of an arm}'. In his declining years, his memory 
 very much failed, but his judgment remained true and 
 clear to the last. He appeared courteous and affable 
 to everybody, and yet he had an air of grandeur that 
 commanded respect from all. He was of a middle 
 stature, fair coraplexioned, a very sound hardy man of 
 his age, and sat a horse incomparably well. As he 
 loved always to be neat in his cloaths, so he was ever 
 pleasant in his conversation, of which this repartee is a 
 pregnant instance. Sometime before he went for Ire- 
 land, he was walking in St. James's Park, amidst crowds 
 of the young and gay, and being asked, what a man of 
 his age had to do with such company? — his answer 
 was, that a good General makes his retreat as late as 
 he can. — He was eighty-two years of age when he was 
 killed." 
 
 Notwithstanding the great age of the Duke of Schom- 
 berg, William determined to entrust to him the com- 
 mand of an expedition into Ireland, on the result of 
 which depended the crown of England. " It is a proof 
 of the deep importance which the British parliament 
 attached to this expedition, that the House of Commons 
 sent for Schomberg, on his appointment, and the 
 Speaker having ordered a chair for the veteran, made 
 him a complimentary speech ; after which the House 
 voted him a sum of £100,000, a vast sum of money at 
 that period. In addition to this munificent grant, the 
 
 F
 
 66 THE DEATH OF THE 
 
 General was created a Duke by the King, and presented 
 with the Order of the Garter."* 
 
 Schomberg landed at Carrickfergus, on the 13th of 
 August, 1689, with about ten thousand men. His 
 campaign, although unmarked by any brilliant achieve- 
 ment, was severe and distressing in no ordinary degree; 
 and all his judgment and coolness (no doubt, the qua- 
 lities for which he had been selected by William) were 
 required to preserve himself and his master from de- 
 feat. 
 
 Before the Battle of the Boyne, in which Schomberg 
 fell, he is said to have remonstrated with William 
 against attacking the enemy in so strong a position as 
 that occupied by James's army. The Prince of Orange 
 (for, until after that battle, William, although proclaimed 
 in England and acknowledged by several foreign powers, 
 can scarcely be called king) determined otherwise ; and 
 it has been well remarked, that " he reasoned as a king, 
 Schomberg argued as a general ; and though they dif- 
 fered, they were both right." The Duke, it is stated, 
 retired from the council of war to his tent, dissatisfied 
 that certain movements, which he had suggested, were 
 not adopted, and when the order of battle was brought 
 to him, he took it M-ith discontent and indifference, ob- 
 serving, " It was the first that ever was sent him." 
 
 * O'Driscol's History of Ireland, ii. p. 51. It should be 
 observed, that of this sum of £100,000, the duke received 
 but a small part ; his son had £5,000 per annum paid him by 
 King: William in lieu of the remainder.
 
 DUKE OF SCHOMBERG. 67 
 
 Schomberg received his death-wound while leading 
 some French cavalry and infantry, whom he had rallied 
 a second time, across the Boyne. " AUons, Messieurs, 
 voila vos persccuteurs !" exclaimed the Duke ; and he 
 had scarcely uttered these words, when two sabre cuts 
 on the head, but not mortal wounds, were given to him 
 by some of James' guards, who were retreating full 
 speed to the main body. 
 
 " In this hurry," to use the words of Captain Par- 
 ker, " he was killed, some said by his own men, as they 
 fired on the enemy, and some said, otherwise; but that 
 which passed current in the army that day, and indeed 
 seems most probable, was, that he was shot by a trooper 
 that had deserted from his own regiment about a year 
 before, and was then in King James's guards." The 
 skull, which is shewn in St. Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin, 
 as that of the gallant Schomberg, appears to have been 
 penetrated by a ball in the forehead. 
 
 "The remains of this great General," says Mr. "Wil- 
 liam Monck Mason,* " were removed to this cathedral 
 immediately after the Battle of Boyne, where they lay 
 until the 10th of July, and were then deposited under 
 the altar ; the interment of Duke Schomberg is noted 
 with a pencil in the register; the entry is almost illegible, 
 insomuch that it has been often sought for in vain. 
 Although he well merited from the gratitude of a 
 country in whose cause he fell, and the favour of a 
 
 * " History of St. Patiick's," Appendix I, note (A). 
 
 JF 2
 
 68 THE DEATH OF THE 
 
 prince whom he faithfully served, such a testimonial, no 
 memorial of the place of his interment was erected un- 
 til the year 1731. 
 
 " Dean Swift, besides his anxiety to embellish this 
 his cathedral, was actuated by a just indignation to- 
 wards the relations of this great man, who, though they 
 derived all their wealth and honours from him, neglected 
 to pay the smallest tribute of respect to his remains; 
 he therefore caused this stone [a slab of black marble 
 fixed in the wall near the monument of Archbishop 
 Jones] to be erected, and himself dictated the inscrip- 
 tion, which is as follows : 
 
 "Hie infra situm est corpus Frederici Ducis de Schon- 
 berg ad Bubindam, occisi a.d. 1690. 
 
 " Decanus et capitulum maximopere etiam atque 
 etiam petieiunt, ut heeredes Ducis monumentum in 
 memoriam parentis erigendum curarent. 
 
 " Sed postquam per epistolas, per amicos, diu ac 
 saepe orando nil profecere ; hunc deraum lapidem sta- 
 tuerunt; saltem ut sciashospes ubinam terrarum Schon- 
 BERGEXSES cineres delitescunt.* 
 
 * In a letter to the Countess of Suffolk respecting this 
 monument, Dean Swift says : — " And I will confess it was upon 
 their [the Chapter's] advice that T omitted the only two passages 
 which had much bitterness in them ; and which a bishop here, 
 one after your own heart, blamed me very much for leaving 
 out: declaring the treatment given us by the Schomberg 
 family deserved a great deal worse. Indeed, madam, I shall 
 not attempt to convince England of anything that relates to 
 this kingdom." 
 
 " One of the passages to which he alludes iu this letter Dr.
 
 DUKE OF SCHOMBERG. 69 
 
 '* Plus potuit fama virtiatls apud alienos quam san- 
 guinis proximitas apud suos. a.d. 1731. 
 
 " Dean Swift, before he caused this stone to be 
 erected, made repeated applications to the descendants 
 of this nobleman, and endeavoured to interest them so 
 far as to contribute somewhat toward erecting a monu- 
 ment to his memory ; on the 10th IMa}^ 1728, he wrote 
 a letter to Lord Carteret, from vvhich I extract the fol- 
 lowing passage : 
 
 " ' The great Duke of Schomberg is buried under 
 the altar in ray cathedral. My Lady Holderness is 
 my old acquaintance ; and I writ her about a small 
 sum to make a monument for her grandfather. I writ 
 to her myself; and also, there was a letter from the 
 Dean and Chapter, to desire she would order a monu- 
 ment to be raised for him in my cathedral. It seems 
 Mildmay, now Lord Fitzwalter, her husband, is a 
 covetous fellow ; or whatever is the matter, we have 
 had no answer. I desire you will tell Lord Fitzwalter, 
 that if he will not send fifty pounds to make a monu- 
 ment for the old duke, I and the Chapter will erect a 
 small one of ourselves for ten pounds ; whereon it shall 
 be expressed, that the posterity of the duke, naming 
 particularly Lady Holderness and Mr. Mildmay, not 
 having the generosity to erect a monument, we have 
 
 Delany informs us was as follows :— instead of ' Saltern ut 
 scias bospes,' &c. it stood thus : ' Saltern ut sciat viator in- 
 dignabundus, quali in cellula, tanti ductoris cineres delites- 
 cunt.' "
 
 70 THE DEATH OF THE 
 
 done it of ourselves. And if, for an excuse, they pretend 
 they will send for his body, let them know it is mine ; 
 and, rather than send it, I will take up the bones, and. 
 make of it a skeleton, and put it in my register office 
 to be a memorial of their baseness to all posterity. 
 This I expect your Excellency will tell Mr. Mildmay, 
 or, as you now call him, Lord Fitzwalter ; and I expect 
 likewise that he will let Sir Conyers D'Arcy know how 
 ill I take his neglect in this matter; although to do him 
 justice, he averred, 'that Mildmay was so avaricious a 
 wretch, that he would let his own father be buried 
 without a coffin, to save charges.'" — Svnft's Works, \o\. 
 xvii. p. 219. Scott's Edition. 
 
 Swift's letter repeating his application to the Countess 
 of Holderness on this subject, dated the 22nd May, 
 1729, is entered on the book of Chapter-minutes, and 
 is printed by Mr. Mason in his history of St. Patrick's. 
 " When this inscription was first set up. Swift was 
 informed that it had given great offence," and he wrote 
 to his friend Pope on the occasion (29th July, 1731). 
 See Scott's Edition of Sivift, vol. xvii. p. 412. In the 
 same volume, p. 416, and p. 449, may be found two 
 letters from Swift, dated 24th July, and 26th October, 
 1731, to the Countess of Suffolk, referring to this mo- 
 nument, the latter of which contains this passage: — 
 " Why should the Schomberg family be so uneasy at 
 a thing they were so long warned of, and were told they 
 might prevent for fifty pounds ?" 
 
 The following Lament is given from a black-letter 
 copy in a Collection of Ballads, &c. 2 vols, folio, in the
 
 DUKE OF SCHOMBERG. 71 
 
 British Museum. It is entitled, " The Valiant Soul- 
 dier's Misfortune, or His Grace the Duke of Schoru- 
 berg's last farewell. To the tune of ' The Souldier's 
 Departure.' Licensed according to Order, and printed 
 for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Black." Two 
 rude wood-cuts embellish this ballad ; one of which 
 represents a battle, and bears, in a conspicuous part, the 
 initials I. D. The other cut is a monumental effigy. 
 
 THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF SCHOMBERG. 
 
 Let all noble stout commanders, 
 
 Likewise souldiers, foot and horse, 
 Both in England, Holland, Flanders, 
 
 Now lament this heavy loss, 
 Of a right renowned leader, 
 
 Who did many fights maintain, 
 The Duke Schomberg, gentle reader. 
 
 He in Ireland was slain. 
 
 With a right heroick spirit 
 
 He was evermore endu'd. 
 Fame and glory did he merit 
 
 As his foes he still subdu'd. 
 Where the guns did roar like thunder, 
 
 Bloudy fights he did maintain. 
 Filling all the world with wonder. 
 
 But great Schomberg now is slain.
 
 72 THE DEATH OF THE 
 
 At tbe head of warlike forces, 
 
 Did he place his chief delight. 
 Taking such effectual courses 
 
 That his foes he put to flight; 
 Where the warlike drums did rattle, 
 
 Bloudy fights he did maintain 
 Never did he lose a battle, 
 
 Yet great Schomberg now is slain. 
 
 Though great councils did assemble, 
 
 To oppose him in the field ; 
 Yet he made them quake and tremble, 
 
 And as soon submit and yield. 
 Nay, his very name they dreaded, 
 
 Causing them to flye amain. 
 Many armies hath he headed, 
 
 Yet at last he now is slain. 
 
 Righteous causes he defended. 
 
 And would wronged monarchs right ; 
 So that blessings still attended 
 
 Him in shining armour bright : 
 By the sword he purchased glory, 
 
 Which the world can never stain. 
 Though he, by a rebel Tory, 
 
 Was in sharp battle slain. 
 
 He in warlike flaming fire. 
 
 Salamander-like did live ; 
 Nothing did he more desire 
 
 Than a fatal stroke to give.
 
 DUKE OF SCHOMBERG. 73 
 
 To a rude rebellious faction. 
 
 Who in villanies did reign ; 
 But in the late Irish action, 
 
 Noble Schomberg he was slain. 
 
 Pale-faced Death has now confin'd him 
 
 In a narrow silent tomb ; 
 Yet a name he left behind him,* 
 
 Sweeter than a rich perfume. 
 Let his actions be recorded 
 
 In the lasting rolls of fame, 
 In another world rewarded. 
 
 Noble Schomberg, who was slain. 
 
 Though his death may be lamented, 
 
 France shall have no cause to boast, 
 Their designs will be prevented 
 
 By our warlike armed host ; 
 Who, with courage, will pursue them, 
 
 Britain's freedom to maintain. 
 And has valiant courage shew'd 'em. 
 
 Though great Schomberg he is slain. 
 
 Towns and castles do's surrender 
 
 To our right renowned King, 
 The true Christian Faith's defender 
 
 Through the land his fame do's ring : 
 Nay, his very foes adore him, 
 
 Wishing that he long may reign ; 
 Boys, he conquers all before him, 
 
 Though great Schomberg he is slain. 
 
 * In the original erroneously printed " himer."
 
 74 
 
 THE WOMAN WARRIOR, 
 
 " Who," says the introduction prefixed to this song, 
 in D'Urfey's " Pills to Purge Melancholy,"* "lived in 
 Cow Cross, near West Smithfield ; who, changing her 
 apparel, entered herself on board in quality of a sol- 
 dier, and sailed to Ireland, where she valiantly behaved 
 herself, particularly at the siege of Cork, where she lost 
 her toes, and received a mortal wound in her body, of 
 which she died in her return to London." 
 
 Whether the foundation of this song be true, or a 
 mere poetical invention, the Editor is unable to deter- 
 mine. Many instances, however, are on record of the 
 gallantry of " Warrior Women, " especially during 
 revolutionary times. The lamentation for the heroine 
 of Cow Cross, the Mary Ambree of her age, appears 
 to have been one of the many indirect efforts made to 
 bring into popular notice the military skill of the 
 famous Duke, then the Earl of Marlborough. William 
 III had returned to England, after an unsuccessful 
 effort to reduce Limerick ; and Marlborough, anxious 
 to distinguish himself, was, it is believed, appointed to 
 the command of an expedition for Ireland, by the in- 
 fluence of the Princess Anne's party, who urged the 
 necessity of securing Cork and Kinsale, which were 
 open to receive troops or supplies from France for the 
 
 * Vol. V. p. 8. 1719.
 
 THE WOMAN WARRIOR. 75 
 
 support of the cause of James. William, although he 
 could not well refuse his sanction to the proposed ex- 
 pedition, is said to have viewed it with a jealous eye, 
 and to have caused what is asserted to be the unneces- 
 sary co-operation of the Duke of Wirtemberg at the 
 head of a body of foreign troops, which led to a dis- 
 pute between Marlborough and Wirtemberg, as to the 
 command, and ended in an adjustment that they should 
 command alternate days. 
 
 Dryden, in his prologue to " The Mistakes," a play 
 written by Joseph Harris, comedian, says : 
 
 " Our young poet has brought a piece of work, 
 In which though much of art there does not lurk, 
 It may hold out three days, and that's as long as Cork." 
 
 And as Marlborough commanded on the first and third 
 days of the siege : viz. the 27th and 29th September, 
 1690, he obtained the credit of taking Cork. As a 
 military exploit it was one of no great difficulty ; but 
 in a political point of view it was important, and the 
 achievement was proportionably magnified for party 
 purposes. Marlboiough's success at Cork may be 
 considered as the foundation of his future fame and 
 fortune. " The Earl arrived at Kensington on the 
 28th October," says a contemporary writer, " where he 
 received that favourable welcome from their majesties 
 which his great services deserved. How his lordship 
 came a year after to lay down his employments is still 
 a secret." 
 
 Immediately after the taking of Cork, Kinsale sur-
 
 76 THE WOMAN WARRIOR. 
 
 rendered; and the adherents of James truly sung, in 
 rhymes still current in Ireland : 
 
 " We have no fortresses that we can call our gwti, 
 But Limerick stout, Gal way, and brave Athlone." 
 
 THE WOMAN WARRIOR. 
 
 Let the females attend 
 
 To the lines which are penn'd, 
 
 For here I shall give a relation 
 Of a young marry 'd wife 
 Who did venture her life ; 
 
 For a soldier, a soldier she went from the nation. 
 
 She her husband did leave. 
 And did likewise receive 
 
 Her arms, and on board she did enter ; 
 And right valiantly went 
 With a resolution bent 
 
 To the ocean, the ocean, her life there to venture. 
 
 Yet of all the ship's crew, 
 Not a seaman that knew 
 
 They then had a woman so near 'em ; 
 On the ocean so deep 
 She her counsel did keep, 
 
 Ay, and therefore, and therefore she never did 
 fear 'em.
 
 THE WOMAN WARRIOR. 77 
 
 She was valiant and bold, 
 And would not be control'd 
 
 By any that dare to offend her ; 
 If a quarrel arose, 
 She would give him dry blows, 
 
 And the captain, the captain did highly commend 
 her. 
 
 For he took her to be 
 Then of no mean degree, 
 
 A gentleman's son, or a squire ; 
 With a hand white and fair. 
 There was none could compare, 
 
 Which the captain, the captain did often admire. 
 
 On the Irish shore, 
 
 Where the cannons did roar, 
 
 With many stout lads she was landed ; 
 There her life to expose. 
 She lost two of her toes. 
 
 And in battle, in battle was daily commended. 
 
 Under Grafton* she fought, 
 Like a brave hero stout. 
 
 And made the proud Tories retire ; 
 She in field did appear 
 With a heart void of fear, 
 
 And she bravely, she bravely did charge and 
 give fire. 
 
 * See note (A).
 
 78 THE WOMAN WARRIOR. 
 
 While the battering balls. 
 Did assault the strong walls 
 
 Of Cork, and sweet trumpets sounded ; 
 She did bravely advance 
 Where by unhappy chance 
 
 This young female, young female, alas ! was 
 wounded. 
 
 At the end of the fray 
 Still she languishing lay, 
 
 Then over the ocean they brought her, 
 To her own native shore: 
 Now they ne'er knew before 
 
 That a woman, a woman had been in that slaughter. 
 
 What she long had conceal'd 
 Now at length she reveal'd, 
 
 That she was a woman that ventur'd ; 
 Then to London with care 
 She did straightways repair. 
 
 But she dy'd, oh she dy'd e'er the city she enter'd. 
 
 When her parents beheld, 
 They with sorrow was fill'd. 
 
 For why, they did dearly adore her ; 
 In her grave now she lies, 
 Tis not watery eyes, 
 
 No, nor sighing, nor sighing that e'er can re- 
 store her.
 
 THE WOMAN WARRIOR. 79 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 (A) The Duke of Grafton (son of Charles II) served as a 
 volunteer at the siege of Cork, and received a mortal wound 
 in his shoulder, while leading some grenadiers to the assault. 
 The place where he fell, which then was a marsh, has since 
 been built upon, and the street named " Grafton's Alley," 
 from this event. The Duke died at Cork on the 9th October. 
 (" London Gazette," 2,604.) " His bowels," says Fitzgerald, 
 in his rude local chronicle, " The Cork Remembrancer," 
 4' were buried at Spring Garden, and his body carried to Eng- 
 land." The following jocular and equivocal epitaph on the 
 Duke of Grafton's death, does full justice to his bravery : 
 
 " Beneath this place 
 Is stowed his Grace 
 
 The Duke of Grafton ; 
 As sharp a blade 
 As e'er was made , 
 
 Or e'er had haft ou ; 
 Who ne'er tiu-n'd tail, 
 Though shot like hail 
 Flew 'bout his ears, 
 Through pikes and spears 
 So thick they hid the sun, 
 He valued not the balls of gun. 
 He ne'er would dread 
 Shot made of lead. 
 Or cannon-ball, 
 Nothing at all. 
 Yet a bullet of Cork 
 Soon did his work ; 
 Unhappy pellet. 
 With grief I teU it. 
 It has undone 
 Great Caesar's son, 
 A statesman spoiled, 
 A soldier foiled, 
 God rot him 
 'Who shot him , 
 A sou of a whore, 
 I sav no more."
 
 80 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 When the Editor placed before the Council of the 
 Percy Society, the extremely rare, if not unique, 
 pamphlet, in which the following curious contemporary 
 song, on the return of William III from Ireland, occurs, 
 the wish of the Council appeared to be, that, instead 
 of inserting merely the song in the present collection, 
 the pamphlet should be reprinted entire. 
 
 This pamphlet is a small quarto, consisting of 
 eighteen pages, and entitled " La Conquete d'Irlande ; 
 Dialogue en Vers." The imprint : " A Londres, chez 
 R. Baldwin, dans Warwick Lane, a I'Enseigne des 
 Armes d'Oxford. 1691." It was formerly, as appears 
 from the stamp, " bibliotheca heeeriana," in the 
 possession of the late Mr. Heber. The character of 
 this production resembles the masque of Charles the 
 First's time, and that it was written by a French refugee 
 is certain, from the national feeling evident in many 
 passages. Neither can it escape the reader how politely 
 the exiled king is treated in a party song ; there is 
 nothing of asperity — no abuse whatever ; he is merely 
 " the unfortunate Mceris." If it had been the produc- 
 tion of an English pen, James's " papistrie" would 
 scarcely have been passed without notice. 
 
 With respect to the reception given by King William 
 to the French Protestants, it has been observed* that 
 
 * The History of King William III. (1702) vol. ii. p. 78.
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 81 
 
 " it became a prince who owed his greatness to his 
 being the support of the Protestant interest to cast an 
 eye of compassion upon those who had abandoned their 
 possessions and various callings in France upon the 
 score of religion ; wherefore his Majestj* issued out a 
 proclamation, [25th April, 1689] whereby he declared, 
 'That finding in his subjects a true and just sense of 
 their deliverance from the persecution lately threatning 
 them for their religion, and of the miseries and oppres- 
 sions the French Protestants lay under, such of them 
 as should seek their refuge in, and transport themselves 
 into, this kingdom of England, should not only have his 
 royal protection^ but he would so aid and assist them in 
 their several trades and ways of livelihood, as that their 
 being in this realm might be comfortable and easie to 
 them. 
 
 " Some people, altogether void of charity, repined at 
 this invitation given to foreigners to settle here; but 
 the generality highly applauded his Majesty for it, not 
 only out of a Christian tenderness for their persecuted 
 brethren, but also out of their love for the welfare of 
 England ; wisely considering that the kind entertain- 
 ment Queen Elizabeth gave to the Walloons, whom the 
 Inquisition drove out of the Low Countries, had vastly 
 improved the woollen and silken manufactures of this 
 nation ; and that the Dutch daily encreased in riches 
 and strength, by the favour tiiey showed to the French 
 refugees, amongst whom were many wealthy merchants, 
 or brave and experienced officers and soldiers, who 
 would cheerfully venture their lives in the defence of 
 
 G
 
 82 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 the Protestant religion, and of those States that afforded 
 them protection." 
 
 The Editor has preferred faithfully retaining the 
 spelling of the original tract, to making any, even a 
 literal alteration. 
 
 LA CONQUETE DIRLANDE. 
 
 INTERLOCUTEURS : 
 
 Ariste .... Anglois. 
 
 Lycidas .... Irlandois Refugie. 
 
 HypoMENE .... Francois Refugie. 
 
 Alexis .... Hollandois. 
 
 Theophane . . . Anglois. 
 
 ARISTE. 
 
 Quel sujet, Lycidas, si matin vous ameine ? 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Cork, Ariste, est rendu, la nouvelle est certaine, 
 Le brave Malborough signalant sa valeur,* 
 A montre ce que pent la conduite et le cceur. 
 Les Irlandois vaincus et prisonniers de guerre. 
 
 * See introductory remarks to the preceding song, p. 74.
 
 THE CONQUEST OP IRELAND, 83 
 
 Le Francois pred * courage, et ne voit rien sur terre. 
 Qui puisse I'erapecher de tomber dans les fers ; 
 La fuite est son refuge, il repasse les mers. 
 Kingsale a nos soldats ouvre aussi-tot les portes, 
 Le Vieux Fort emporte par nos braves cohortes ; 
 Le Nouveau quelque jours vainement se defend, 
 Nos valureux guerriers le pressent, il se rend.f 
 Mais, 6 chere conquete I 6 cruel sort des armes ! 
 Grafton y meurt ;J Bellone en a verse des larmes. 
 Mars repand a sa mort du sang au lieu de pleurs, 
 Et rile par des oris temoigne ses douleurs.§ 
 Manes appaisez-vous, I'Hybernois prend la fuite, 
 Et le Printemps prochain voit I'lrlande reduite. 
 L'Automne le verroit, si le faux point d'lionneur|| 
 N'eut pas devant Limriek retarde ce bonheur. 
 Tandis que les premiers trop avides de gloire, 
 Disputent aux seconds I'honneur de la victoire, 
 Le canon ennemi tonne de toutes parts, 
 Et les chasse tous deux de dessus les remparts. 
 
 ARISTE. 
 
 J'ay su ce coup fatal, mais puis qu'en recompense. 
 On voit tout Albion en bonne intellisence, 
 Le Parlement conforme aux volontez du Roy, 
 Un rebelle vaincu nous ferat-il la loy ? 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Non. Je crains seulement la France martiale. . . . 
 
 * No douhta misprint for ferd. \ See note (A). 
 
 + See p. 79. § See note (B). 
 
 II See p. 75. 
 
 g2
 
 84 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 ARISTE. 
 
 II est vray, sa valeur que nulla autre n'egale, 
 
 Son pouvoir qu'aucun coup ne paroit ebranler, 
 
 Son Prince qui jamais ne semble chanceler, 
 
 Son peuple trop zele, ses conseillers trop sages, 
 
 Et ses succes passez sont de tristes presages. 
 
 La derniere campagne, on a vti les Germains 
 
 Assez unis entr'eux n'en venir point aux mains, 
 
 Le Batave battu, le Savoyard en fuite, 
 
 Opprimez par le nombre, ou faute de conduite, 
 
 Ou le Fraufois montrant trop d'adresse et de coeur. 
 
 Mais qu'il est beau de vaincre un Roy toujours vain- 
 
 queur 
 
 Que son nom soit illustre et son pouvoir terrible, 
 liouis est invaincu, mais non pas invincible ; 
 Plus I'adversaire est noble et le combat douteux, 
 Plus la victoire est belle et le sort glorieux. 
 Quel ennemi craint-on, si le bras de Guillaume 
 A fait voir si souvent qu'il vaut seul un royaume ? 
 Suivons-le, et que les soins de nos coeurs soient banis. 
 A propos : et vos vers, le Retour de Daphnis,* 
 Ne peut-on point les voir ? 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Quoy, devant Hypomene 
 Lire des vers Fran9ois ? 
 
 HYPOMENE. 
 
 Ma presence vous gene ; 
 Je m"en vay. 
 
 * William III.
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 85 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Vous pouvez m'entendre sans danger, 
 Pourvu que vous pensiez que je suis etranger, 
 Et qu'il faut me passer quelque faute grossiere. 
 
 HYPOMENE. 
 
 A d'autres. Vous riraez aussi bien que Moliere. 
 
 LE RETOUR DE DAPHNIS. 
 
 stances; 
 
 Lycidas lit. 
 
 I. 
 
 Bergers, chantons en ce beau jour 
 
 Le Liberateur de retour ; 
 Le ciel nous a rendu cette tete si chore ; 
 Oublions nos ennuis, oublions nos fraj'eurs, 
 Et si quelque souci ronge encore nos coeurs, 
 
 Que ce soit le soin de lay plaire. 
 
 II. 
 
 Loijons le Souverain des Cieux, 
 
 Qui sur ce heros tient les yeux, 
 Qui par tout I'acconipagne, et par tout le couronne ; 
 La foudre a respecte les lauriers de Daplinis, 
 Et quand sous ces ramcaux nous nous tiendrons unis, 
 
 Qu'aucun danger ne nous etonne.
 
 86 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 III. 
 
 Son grand coeur le porte aux hazards, 
 
 II veut surpasser les Cezars ; 
 II vient, il voit, il vainc, il conquiert I'Hybernie ; 
 Des passages forcez qu'on ne nous parle plus, 
 De I'Hydaspe, du Rhin, des Alpes, du Taurus, 
 
 La Boyne a leur gloire ternie. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Ou sont ces guerriers indomptez, 
 Dans un coin de leur camp plantez, 
 Ou du sommet dun mont regardant si Ton donne; 
 Qu'ils ne s'excusent plus sur le sort des combats, 
 C'est d'eux que vient le mal ; que peuvent des soldats 
 Lors que le chef les abandonne ?* 
 
 V. 
 
 C'est a notre chef glorieux, 
 
 Qu'est du le succes de nos vceux : 
 C'est de son sang verse que Ton tient la victoire ; f 
 Playe heureuse qui fait le salut du Pais, 
 Anime nos guerriers, abat nos ennemis, 
 
 Et comble le blesse de gloire I 
 
 VI. 
 
 Qui peut egaler sa valeur ? 
 
 Rien que luy seul dans le malheur, 
 C'est alors que Ton voit triompher sa sagesse ; 
 C'est dans I'adversite qu'eclate sa vertu, 
 Et jamais sous ce poids son courage abatu, 
 
 Ne marqua la moindre foiblesse. 
 
 * See p. 63, and note (G). f See note (C).
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 87 
 
 VII. 
 
 Soit imprudence, ou lachete. 
 
 Ascendant, ou fatalite, 
 Les maitres de la mer, batus sur leur rivage,- 
 Succombent sous I'efFort du superbe Gaulois;* 
 Et le Batave aux mains deserte de I'Anglois, 
 
 Luy laisse Tocean en gage. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Un ange vient dans le moment, 
 
 Rapporter ce coup assoramant 
 All valureux Daphnis, qui rangeoit son armee, 
 Pret a passer le fleuve, et livrer le combat. 
 Croit-on sous ce revers que son ame s'abat ? 
 
 EUe n'est pas meme allarmee.f 
 
 IX. 
 
 Nul trait ne trahit sa douleur; 
 
 " Courage I" dit-il ; " le malheur 
 Poursuit nos ennemis, et sur mer et sur terre ; 
 Pas5ons, amis, passons, I'Hybernois est a nous ; 
 Ces laches pourroient-ils resister a vos coups, 
 
 Et savent-ils I'art de la guerre ?' 
 
 X. 
 
 Ainsi qu'un rapide torrent, 
 
 Dont la pluye enfle le courant, 
 Innonde, entraine, abat, et semble toujours craitre, 
 Ainsi Ton voit nager nos valureux guerriers, 
 Terrasser, foudroyer, et courir aux lauriers, 
 
 Sur les traces de leur grand maitre. 
 
 * See note (D). t See note (E).
 
 88 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Qui pourroit ne pas avancer, 
 
 En voyant ce heros percer 
 Les epais bataillons des forces d'Hybernie ; 
 En le voyant suivi du Prince^ et de Schomberg,^ 
 De Solmes,^ de Douglas,* Cuts/' Lumley/ Wirtemberg/ 
 
 Renversant la troupe ennemie. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Par tout I'Hybernois chancelant 
 
 Fuit devant Ormond^ et Portland f 
 Overkerk ^^ y fait voir la valeur qui I'anime ; 
 Oxford,^iGinkle,i-Sidney;^'^Montpouillan,i*Scraveraor,i^ 
 Harmstad,^'' et cent guerriers s'y signalent eqcor, 
 
 Que Ton ne peut nommer en rime. 
 
 1 Prince George of Denmark, see p. 52. 
 
 2 Count Schomberg, General of the Horse. 
 
 ^ Henry, Count de Solmes, or Zolmes, General of the Foot ; 
 made Commander-in-Chief of the Forces in Ireland, on King 
 William's return to England. 
 
 ■^ Lieutenant-General Douglas. 
 
 * John, Lord Cutts ; see note (F). 
 
 ^ Richard, Viscount Lumley, created Earl of Scarborough. 
 
 "^ The Duke of Wirtemberg, General of the Danes; see 
 p. 75. 
 
 ^ The Duke of Ormond ; see p. 52. 
 
 ^ Earl of Portland, Maistre-G eneral des Camp; seep. 52. 
 
 10 Lord Overkirk, Maistre-General des Camp ; see p. 52. 
 
 11 The Earl of Oxford ; see p. 52. 
 
 12 Baron de Ginckel, Lieutenant-General ; made Com- 
 mander-in-Chief of the army on Count Solmes leaving for 
 England in September 1690. The Victor of Aughrio, and 
 the negociator of the memorable " Articles of Limerick." 
 Created Earl of Athlone. 
 
 13 Henry, Viscount Sdney, Major-General of Fcot; see
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 89 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Cependant le triste Mceris* 
 
 Pousse au ciel d'iiiutiles cris, 
 Lors qu'il voit fuir ses gens du haut d'une coUine ; 
 Et ne pouvant forcer rimplacable destin, 
 II cede et se retire en hate vers Dublin, f 
 
 Cachant le chagi'in qui le mine. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 C'est trop long-temps braver le sort, 
 
 Ne pouvant rencontrer la mort, 
 " Fuyons, amis," dit-il, " et retournons en France ; 
 Daphnis est invincible, on a beau resister; 
 Pour plaire au grand Louis, j'ay voulu tout tenter, 
 
 Mais a quoy nous sert la defense ?" 
 
 XV. 
 
 Laissons ce Prince infortune 
 
 Recourir a son Dieu-donne,t 
 Revenons a Daphnis, que la gloire envjronne ; 
 Son parti dans Dublin se trouve le plus fort, 
 Drogheda se soumet,§ on luy rend Waterford, || 
 
 L'ennemi les champs abandonne. 
 
 p. 52. Appointed one of the Lord Justices of Ireland, and after- 
 wards Secretary of State; created in 1694 Earl of Rumney. 
 
 14 The Marquis of Montpouillan, the senior commander of 
 one of the thirteen Dutch regiments which went into Ireland 
 with William. 
 
 15 Or Scravenmore, Major-General of Horse. 
 ^^ The Prince of H esse Darmstadt. 
 
 * James II. f See note (G). 
 
 X Does this allude to the Pretender, — the warming-pan 
 gentleman !' or does it refer to James's Popish propensities ? 
 § See note (H). || See note (I).
 
 90 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Venez, vaincus, — venez, vainqueurs; 
 
 Jouissez en paix des douceurs 
 D'un empire ou le ciel a fait tant de raerveilles ; 
 Souraettez a ses loix jusques a vos desirs, 
 Et si jamais en haul vous poussez des soupirs, 
 
 Demandez des graces pareilles. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Priez qu'il prolonge les jours 
 
 D'un roy notre unique recours, 
 Qui nous defend luy seul contre deux puissant Princes ; 
 Qui pour notre repos affronte le danger, 
 Arme, unit nos voisins afin de nous vanger, 
 
 Et gagne en un mois des provinces. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Et de la tete et de la main, 
 
 Par tout il paroit plus qu'humain. 
 Passant les demi-dieux dont nous parle la fable ; 
 General, capitaine, et soldat a la fois, 
 Un Nestor en conseil, un Achile en exploits. 
 
 Ah I que n'est-il invulnerable I 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Le ciel est fecond en bien-faits, 
 
 Nous en ressentons les effets, 
 Mais peut-on esperer miracle sur miracle ? 
 Est-ce que les boulets connoissent les heros ? 
 Si quelqu'un de leurs coups tranchoit des jours si beaux, 
 
 Bon Dieu, quel terrible spectacle !
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 91 
 
 XX. 
 
 On verroit I'insolent Gaulois, 
 
 Sur nos cotes donner les loix, 
 Tenter encor un coup d'y faire un descente ; 
 On verroit le saint nom de la Religion, 
 Servant de couverture a chaque faction, 
 
 Armer la discorde naissante. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 On verroit de fleuves de sang 
 
 Du plus haut et du plus bas rang 
 La Tamise grossie, et la tei're couverte. 
 Daphnis, quand ta valeur t'engage a conquerir, 
 Pense qii'un coup fatal t'y peut faire perir, 
 
 Et que rien n'egale ta perte. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Pasteurs, dont les sacrez accens 
 
 Sur ce Prince sont si puissans, 
 De cueuillir des lauriers faites liiy perdre envie ; 
 Chantez que son courage a passe nos souhaits, 
 Qu'il ne doit plus songer qu'a retablir la paix, 
 
 Assurant nos jours par sa vie. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Compagnons, illustres rivaux, 
 
 De sa gloire et de ses travaux, 
 Gardez de reveillerson ardeur martiale; 
 Pensez que le peril est aussi fait pour vous, 
 Et qua suivre un heros au plus epais des coups, 
 
 Le danger votre honneur egale.
 
 92 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 XXiV. 
 
 Innocente troupe d'agneaux, 
 
 Remplissez de cris ces cotaux, 
 Et qu'a vos belemeiis son grand coeur s'amolisse ; 
 Nymphes, pour I'enchainer employez vos attraits, 
 Amour, pour le blesser decoche tous tes traits, 
 
 Et Ion rira de ta malice, 
 xxv. 
 
 Nymphes, je crains pour vos appas, 
 
 Daphnis est ne pour les combats, 
 Sensible au soul plaisir d'achever sa victoire ; 
 Le printemps cessera d'embelir nos guerets, 
 Les oiseaux de chanter dans le fonds des forets, 
 
 Plutot que luy d'aimer la gloire. 
 
 HYPOMENE. 
 
 Ouy, cruel Lycidas, j'espere que vos vceux 
 
 Du ciel et de Daphnis censez pernicieux, 
 
 A quoy que votre zele indiscret vous engage, 
 
 Seront placez au rang des serments d'un volage. 
 
 Voulez-vous par vos cris arreter un heros, 
 
 De qui I'Europe en trouble attend seul le repos ; 
 
 Du reproche honteux d'une conduite mole 
 
 Ternir un nom chante de I'un a I'autre pole, 
 
 Et retenir le bras qui veut nous secourir, 
 
 De crainte des hazards qu'on court a conquerir. 
 
 Ne craignez rien, le Ciel, son ange tutelaire, 
 
 Le rendra possesseur de prince titulaire ; 
 
 Je vois encor un coup couronner ce grand roy, 
 
 N'enviez point aux Francs de vivre sous sa loy.
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 93 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 Parlons p'us franchement, avouez le, Hypomene, 
 L'interet d'Albion n'est pas ce qui vous meine ; 
 Un motif plus puissant anime vos raisons ; 
 On vous retient des prez, des champs, et des maisons, 
 Des enf'ans bien nourris, une femme fort sage, 
 Les bourreaux ont sur vous lasse toute leur rage ; 
 C'est un mal sans remede. On a vu de tons terns 
 Les petits exposez a la fureur des grands, 
 Et quand de se vanger ils ont eu la manie, 
 Ajouter a leurs niaux nouvelle ignominie. 
 Croyez-moy, soyez calme, et benissez le sort, 
 Par un naufrage heurenx vous vous trouvez au port. 
 Chez tous les Protestans, les peuples, et les princes 
 Vous ont ouvert les bras, leur bourse, et leurs provinces, 
 Eu plus d'egards pour vous que pour ceux du pais, 
 Qu'esperez-vous de tel parmi nos ennemis ? 
 Vous voulez, dites-vous, aller joindre vos freres, 
 Les aider a sortir de leurs longues miseres. 
 Puisse le juste Ciel accomplir vos souhaits, 
 Et que suivant chez vous la Victoire ou la Paix, 
 Vous goutiez les plaisirs dune innocente vie. 
 Puissent les traits malins d'une jalouse envie 
 N'irriter plus I'esprit du monarque Gaulois, 
 Et ne plus renverser le boulevart des loix. 
 Qu'il n'arrive jamais de rupture nouvelle, 
 Capable a vous forcer d'etre ingrat ou rebelle, 
 De trahir votre prince ou votre defenseur. 
 
 HYPOMENE. 
 
 Vos voeux en apparence ont beaucoup de douceur,
 
 94 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 Mais ils cachent au fond je ne say quoy qui pique. 
 Voulez-vous nous charger de la haine publique ; 
 Qu'odieux aux Bretons, ct suspects aux Franc^ois, 
 Nous errions vagabonds par les monts et les bois ; 
 Toujours battus des flots, des vents, de la tempete, 
 Sans trouver nulla part ou reposer la tete ? 
 
 ARISTE. 
 
 Nod, Hypomene, non, connoissez Lycidas, 
 
 Vous nuire ce seroit avoir le coeur trop bas, 
 
 II vous airae, et voudroit vous voir I'esprit tranquille, 
 
 Et n'abandonner pas aisement votre azyle. 
 
 HYPOMENE. 
 
 Nous suivrons vos avis, la prudence du roy 
 
 Nous servira de guide, et ses ordres de loy. 
 
 Si sa protection merite nos services. 
 
 Son exemple et son bras sont des heureux auspices, 
 
 Sous qui le fier Gaulois peut craindre des banis. 
 
 ALEXIS. 
 
 Je vous laisse en repos disposer de Daphnis, 
 L'arreter dans votre isle, ou I'amener en France : 
 D'autres raisons chez luy font pancher la balance. 
 Son grand cceur renfermant les secrets de I'etat, 
 Vouloir le decouvrir c'est faire un attentat. 
 Mais si j'ose meler mes pensees aux autres, 
 De plus forts interets I'emportent sur les votres. 
 Chez les gens vertueux, les amis anciens 
 Sont toujours preferez a de nouveaux liens. 
 Ce sacre rejetton de tant d'illustres princes, 
 A vu le jour naissant dans nos riches provinces, 
 Qui trois lustres et plus sous sa direction,
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 95 
 
 Ont temoigne pour luj' leur tendre affection. 
 C'est pour votre salut, ou de toute la terre, 
 Qu'un puissant roy nous fait une mortelle guerre, 
 Et de votre bonheur ce monarque jaloux, 
 Nous fit pour I'empecher sentir ses premiers coups. 
 L'officieux Germain veut en vain nous defendre, 
 Sans le bras de Daphnis que pouvons-nous attendre ? 
 Pretez-nous son seeours, rendez le a son pais, 
 C'est le seul Mars qu'on pent opposer a Louis. 
 
 ARISTE. 
 
 Ouy, nous vous le rendrons, mais avec cette clause, 
 Qu'en maitre souverain de vos coeurs il dispose, 
 Et que vous n'alliez pas par de faux contre-temps, 
 Mettre obstacle aux succes dont vous serez contens. 
 Quotant de vos esprits une crainte importune, 
 Vous luy laissiez le soin de la cause commune ; 
 Qu'une trop naturelle, ou maligne lenteur, 
 Fasse place aux efforts d'une sincere ardeur ; 
 Que vous fermiez I'oreille aux vaines conjectures 
 D'un ennemi qui tache a rompre nos mesures, 
 Et vous faire abuser de votre liberte, 
 Par un jaloux caprice ou par temerite. 
 Pour causer notre deuil, ne faites pas sa joie, 
 Et ne nous livrez pas a ses fureurs en proie. 
 
 ALEXIS. 
 
 Accusez de caprice et de soub^on jaloux, 
 Nous pourrions le souffrir d'un autre que de vous. 
 Chez qui regnent le plus les plaintes, les murmures, 
 Les libelles malins, les fausses conjectures ? 
 Voit-on chez les Batave, ecrivain ou rimeur
 
 96 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 S'en prendre insolemraent aux droits du gouverneur? 
 A-on lA-t-oii] oui parler chez nous de Jacobites, 
 Ou de Louisiens ? en connoissez-voiis? dites. 
 
 HYPOMENE. 
 
 Eh, de grace ! Bergers, ne passez pas plus loin. 
 Si de vous chagriner vous prenez tant de soin, 
 Croyez-vous que toujours un fidele Hypomene 
 De vous racommoder se donnera la peine? 
 Manquons nous d'ennemis, declarez ou couverts, 
 Qui nous font quercller pour nous mettre des fers? 
 
 THEOFHANE. 
 
 Embrassez-vous, bergers, ct sortez de vos doutes, 
 Vous courez a Daphnis par differentes routes, 
 Unissez vos efforts centre nos ennemis, 
 Assurez du succes que le cicl a promis. 
 
 ARISTE. 
 
 Promis ! Expliquez-vous, comment done, Theophane ? 
 Dites, ne craignez point ici d'esprit profane. 
 
 ALEXIS. 
 
 Est-ce un prophete? A-t-il eu quelque vision ? 
 
 THEOPHANE. 
 
 Ce siecle est-il un temps a revelation ? 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Qui vous fait done parler ainsi ? 
 
 THEOFHANE. 
 
 Ce n'est qu'un songe. 
 
 HYPOMENE. 
 
 Ecoutons. 
 
 THEOPHANE. 
 
 Accable du chagrin qui me ronge,
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 97 
 
 Depuis que pour ranger I'Hybernois sous la loy, 
 
 Nous voyons tons les jours s'exposer un grand roy ; 
 
 Dans un lieu solitaire ou souvent je ra'egare, 
 
 Je revois au bonheur que son retour prepare. 
 
 La fraicheur de I'ombrage et I'ardeur du soleil. 
 
 La lassitude enfin m'invitoient au sommeil. 
 
 Je m'etends sous un arbre, ou tot apres Morphea 
 
 Eut enchante mes sens, et ma peine etoufee. 
 
 Dans ce profond sommeil, tout a coup d'un haut ton, 
 
 Une celeste voix m'appelle par mon nom. 
 
 Je m'eveille en sursaut, au moins il me le semble, 
 
 Un eclat de splendeur m'environne, je tremble, 
 
 Je palis, je fremis, je ne sais ou je suis, 
 
 Je fais de vains efforts pour parler, je ne puis. 
 
 Ne crains point, dit la voix, Ecoute, Theophane, 
 
 Ce que n'ou'it jamais une oreille prophane. 
 
 Avant que Cynthie ait fourni trois cours entiers. 
 
 Ton Daphnis reviendra couronne de lauriers. 
 
 Avant que Phebus ait parcouru I'Ecliptique, 
 
 Ce heros finira la misere publique. 
 
 Ses deux fiers ennemis egaux en leur malheur, 
 
 Tous deux craints par leur liaine, et I'un parsa valeur, 
 
 Ne pouvant soutenir I'effort de sa puissance : 
 
 Ou ploiront sous son joug, ou fuiront sa presence. 
 
 Au devant du vainqueur tout le peuple sortant, 
 
 Teraoigne par ses cris combien il est content ; 
 
 Les cloches, les buchers marquent leur allegresse ; 
 
 Les harangues, les vers expriment leur tendresse; 
 
 Mais cependant Daphnis, qui veille pour 1 etat, 
 
 S'applique a prevenir un nouvel attentat, 
 
 H
 
 98 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 Jette les fondemens d'une paix immobile, 
 Qui rende le pays florissant et trauquile, 
 Qui remette le calme au milieu d'Albion ; 
 Et luy fasse oublier le nom de faction. 
 Tandis que rAquilon fait regner la froidure, 
 Et que d'epais frimats il couvre la nature, 
 Son esprit penetrant perce dans I'avenir, 
 Et contre ses projets rien ne sauroit tenir. 
 A quelle des vertus donner la preference ? 
 Sera-ce a sa valeur ? sera-ce a sa prudence ? 
 Ses desseins sont batis qu'ils ne sauroient tomber, 
 Et son bras si puissant qu'il ne peut succomber. 
 Mais le printemps revient, et deja le Zephire, 
 Semble eveiller Daphnis, et sans cesse luy dire, 
 Qu'il faut passer la mer et voler au secours 
 D'une troupe d'amis qui I'attend tous les jours : 
 Que combattre sans luy e'est tenter Tirapossible, 
 Qu'a tout autre qu'a luy la France est invincible, 
 Et qu'a toute I'Europe elle mettra des fers, 
 Si son bras ne luy fait sentir un dur revers. 
 Neptune I'a deja porte chez les Bataves, 
 Je le vois entoure d'une troupe de braves. 
 Qui s'animent I'un I'autre a repandre leur sang, 
 Et veulent au combat chacun le premier rang. 
 Le Breton et le Beige oubliant leurs querelles, 
 Montrent a le servir des ardeurs mutuelles ; 
 L'Espagnol a repris son antique valeur ; 
 En suivant ce heros qui peut manquer de coeur ? 
 Pour I'interet commun de la cause publique. 
 On voit se reunir tout le corps Germanique,
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 99 
 
 Et du brave Lorrain s'ils regrettent le sort, 
 
 lis trouvent plus igi que n'a ravi la raort. 
 
 La Boyne et le Shannon ne sont pas de sa gloire 
 
 D'assez dignes temoins. Et le Rhin, et la Loire, 
 
 Et le Danube, et I'Arne, et le Tybre fameux, 
 
 Raconteront un jour ses exploits merveilleux. 
 
 Ses grandes actions rempliront les histoires, 
 
 Et ses combats seront contez par ses victoires. 
 
 Mais que vois-je I I'Envie au parler decevant, 
 
 Monstre qui nieurt sans cesse, et sans cesse est vivant, 
 
 Qui du bien des huraains fait sa plus grande peine, 
 
 Et ne prend du plaisir que dans ce qui les gene, 
 
 Le sujet de I'horreur de la Terre et des Cieux, 
 
 Veut rendre de Daphnis les desseins odieux. 
 
 Impute sa valeur a son heureuse etoile, 
 
 Et de la piete prenant le sacre voile, 
 
 Inspire aux faux zelez qu'ils doivent craindre un bras, 
 
 Qui des Saints faineans menace le trepas. 
 
 Qui met dans Albion I'Eglise sur le trone, 
 
 Et tache dabolir le nom de Babylone. 
 
 Puis tournant ses regards vers les ambitieux. 
 
 La grandeur du heros quelle expose a leurs yeux, 
 
 Son nora ecrit au front du Temple de Meraoire, 
 
 Les grandes actions qui ternissent leur gloire, 
 
 Et I'amour qu'ont pour lui ses fideles sujets, 
 
 Les porte a traverser ses illustres projets. 
 
 Enfin cette Megere anime un coeur timide, 
 
 En peignant de Daphnis le courage intrepide, 
 
 Et leur persuadant que ses vastes desseins 
 
 Vent a luy conquerir I'empire des humains ; 
 
 H 2
 
 100 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 Que trop differer met la fortune en balance, 
 Et qu'il est encor temps de borner sa puissance. 
 L'Ignorance a ces mots leve ses etendarts, 
 La Discorde en fureur fremit de toutes parts, 
 L'alliance se romt. Un amas de perfides 
 Forment contra Daphnis des complots parricides ; 
 Les Protestans, liguez pour pi'oteger Sion, 
 Jurent d'aneantir la superstition. 
 Ne crain point de Babel I'impuissant artifice, 
 De la religion soutien seul I'edifice, 
 Daphnis, la verite s'est commise a tes soins, 
 Et son Pere Eternel veille pour ses besoins. 
 Va, fais la triompher du couchant a I'aurore, 
 Heros cheri du Ciel ; que le Tybre I'adore, 
 Que la Seine qui I'aime, et ne I'embrasse pas, 
 Avec toutes ses eaux se jette entre tes bras: 
 Que I'aigle ravissante abhorre le carnage, 
 Du sang des meurtriers fais deborder le Tage, 
 Sois le Liberateur du Chretien gemissant, 
 Et va planter la croix ou regne le croisant. 
 A ces mots la voix cesse, et ma foible paupiere 
 Eblou'ie a I'instant d'un eclat de lumiere, 
 Je ne say si pour lors je commence a veiller, 
 Ou si je n'avois fait encor que sommeiller. 
 Mais cette vision me chargeant la memoire, 
 Je vous cherchois, amis, pour en faire rhistoire. 
 
 FIN.
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 101 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 (A) Cork being reduced (see p. 75), was put under the 
 government of Colonel Hales. " Brigadier Villiers was, the 
 same day, detached with a party to possess himself of Kinsale, 
 which not being tenable was deserted by the enemy. On the 
 2nd October, the Lord Marlborough came thither with the 
 army ; on the 3rd, Major-General Tettau and Colonel Fitz- 
 Patrick, with about eight hundred men, got over in boats, 
 unperceived, near Ringroan Castle, marched towards the Old 
 Fort (called Castle ni Park), which they boldly assaulted and 
 took by storm ; whereupon the enemy retired into the Castle, 
 but, at the same time, three barrels of their powder took fire 
 at the gate, and blew it up, with about forty soldiers. At 
 length the governor, Colonel Driscoll, and two hundred of 
 the garrison, being killed, the rest surrendered upon quarter. 
 
 " Hereupon the New Fort (called Charles Fort) was sum- 
 moned ; but Sir Edward Scot, the governor, answered, that it 
 would be time enough a month hence to talk of surrendering : 
 whereupon the trenches were opened the 6th October; the 
 batteries were managed by the Danes on the east, and by the 
 English on the north. On the 15th a breach was made by 
 the Danes, and the English being masters of the counterscarp, 
 they sprung a mine with good success, when the governor 
 capitulated, and surrendered upon honourable conditions : 
 which would not have been granted, but that the weather was 
 exceedingly bad, provisions scarce, and the army very sickly. 
 Colonel O'Donovan delivered the keys of this fort into Lord 
 Marlborough's hands, who having thus fortunately accom- 
 plished the design of his voyage, left his brother, Brigadier 
 Churchill, governor of Charles Fort; and having disposed
 
 102 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 his regiments into Cork, Kinsale, and Bandon, he returned 
 with the fleet to Portsmouth." — Sir Richard Cox's Narration, 
 MS. quoted by Smith in his History of Cork. 
 
 (B) Although it is not probable that Ireland would respond 
 by its cries to the feeling of the English upon the death of 
 the Duke of Grafton, it is nevertheless probable that native 
 professional keeners exerted their extraordinary powers upon 
 that occasion. Stanihurst observes : — " They [the Irish] 
 follow the dead corpse to the grave with howling and bar- 
 barous outcries, pitifull in aparance ; whereof grew, as I 
 suppose, the proverbe, ' To weepe Irish.' " 
 
 (C) On the 30th June, King William encamped about a 
 mile distant from the River Boyne, and at noon he rode in 
 full view of the Irish army, which lay encamped on the other 
 side. 
 
 " The enemy soon discovered it must be His Majesty who 
 was so attended, which made them draw down two pieces of 
 six-pound ball from the forts a little higher, and planted them 
 opposite to the place where our horse were drawn up, they 
 presently began to fire, and one of the balls passed so close 
 to His Majesty that it took away a piece of his coat, waste 
 coat, and shirt, raised the skin on the blade of his right 
 shoulder and drew a little blood ; but a plaister being put on, 
 His Majesty continued on horseback without the least con- 
 cern, till four in the afternoon, when he dined, and in the 
 evening was on horseback again, though he had been up from 
 one in the morning." — Villare Hilernicum, or a View of 
 His Majestifs late Conquest in Ireland, by W. Griffyth, Esq. 
 1690. 
 
 The Irish local tradition respecting this memorable shot is 
 perhaps worth repeating. It is said that one of James's
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND, 103 
 
 officers observing William on the opposite bank of the river, 
 directed two guns to be brought to a particular spot, where 
 they would be concealed by some old thorns, under the direc- 
 tion of a gunner named Burke, who was reputed to be ex- 
 ceedingly skilful in his art. The officer rode off to James, 
 who was not far distant, and solicited His Majesty to behold 
 the shot, which he complied with, and came up to the guns 
 just as Burke said : — " I have the Prince of Orange covered ;" 
 James, instead of giving the word fire, exclaimed : " Would 
 you make a widow of my daughter ?" But the gunner, who 
 saw only the movement of his monarch's lips, mistook the 
 import of his words, and applied his match to the touch-hole. 
 The news of William's death immediately spread through 
 the Irish camp, and was speedily carried to Paris. Voltaire, 
 in his " Siecle de Louis XIV," says : — " Cette fausse nouvelle 
 fut re^ue a Paris avec une joie indecente et honteuse. Quel- 
 ques magistrats subalternes encoiiragerent les bourgeois et 
 le peuple a faire des illuminations. On sonna les cloches; 
 on brula dans plusieurs quartiers des figures d'osier qui re- 
 presenterent le Prince d'Orange, comme on brule le pape dans 
 Londres ; on tira le canon de la Bastille, non par ordre du 
 roi, mais par le zele inconsidere d'un commandant." 
 
 (D) The 29th April, 1689, Admiral Herbert, being on the 
 south coast of Ireland, by his scouts discovered the French 
 fleet, and next day had intelligence that they were gone into 
 Baltimore, being forty-four sail ; but, on pursuing them, the 
 scouts had sight of them to the west of Cape Clear; and, 
 upon steering after them, found they were got into Bantry 
 Bay. The admiral lay off the bay all night, and next morn- 
 ing stood in, Avhere he found the enemy at anchor ; but soon 
 got under sail, bearing dowii upon him, in a line composed of 
 twenty-eight men of war and live fire ships. When they
 
 104 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 came within musquet-sbot of the Defiance, who led the van, 
 the French admiral put out the signal of battle; which was 
 begun by firing their great and small shot at the Defiance, 
 and the rest as they came into line. The English made 
 several boards to gain the wind, or, at least to engage them 
 closer. Finding that way of working very disadvantageous, 
 Admiral Herbert stood off to sea, as well to have got his 
 ships into a line as to have gained the wind of the enemy ; 
 but found them so cautious in bearing down, that he could 
 not get an opportunity to do it; so continued battering 
 upon a stretch till five in the afternoon, when the French 
 admiral stood into the bay. The admiral's ship and some 
 others being disabled in their rigging, they could not follow 
 them ; but continued for some time after before the bay, and 
 the admiral gave them a gun at parting. In this action 
 Captain George Aylmer, of the Portland, with one lieutenant 
 and ninety-four seamen were killed, and about two hundred 
 and fifty wounded. On the 7th of May the admiral got into 
 Plymouth with the fleet. — CampbeWs Naval History, vol. iii. 
 p. 9. 
 
 Although it appears to have been William's policy to con- 
 sider this encounter in the light of a victory (see subsequent 
 note), the dispassionate historian must regard the affair as a 
 defeat. If any advantage was gained, that advantage was 
 most unquestionably on the side of the French fleet. 
 
 (E) On the 15th, May, 1689, a fortnight after the encounter 
 of the French and English fleets off" the south-west coast of 
 Ireland, King William went to Portsmouth, " both to hasten 
 the refitting of the fleet, and to distribute rewards to the 
 officers and soldiers who had distinguished themselves in the 
 late engagement. Admiral Herbert was declared, and soon 
 after made Earl of Torrington ; Captain John Ashby, com-
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 105 
 
 mander of the Defiance, ami Captain Cloudesly Shovel, of 
 the Edgar, received the honour of knighthood; and each 
 seaman a gratuity of ten shillings, which amounted to the 
 sum of £26,000. Besides this donative to the living, His 
 Majesty's bounty extended to the relicts of those who had 
 lost their lives in his and their country's service. Some 
 report that when the king received the news of this sea-fight, 
 he said : ' That 'twas necessary in the beginning of a war, 
 but that it had been rash in the course of it.' " — Bowyer's 
 History of William III, vol. ii. p. 83. 
 
 (F) " Lord John Cutts, one of the most memorable men of 
 his day, a soldier of great enterprise and bravery, was the sou 
 of Richard Cutts, Esq. of Matching in Essex. He entered 
 early into the army, and served under the Duke of Monmouth 
 abroad ; was aid-du-camp to the Duke of Lorraine in Hun- 
 gary, and signalized himself in an extraordinaiy manner at 
 the taking of Breda by the Imperialists, in 1 686. By what 
 means he found leisure to court the muses does not appear; 
 but in 1687, his 'Poetical Exercises,' written upon several 
 occasions, dedicated to Her Royal Highness Maiy, Princess 
 of Orange, afterwards Queen Mary, were printed in 8vo. 
 containing verses to that princess, to Waller, &c. among them 
 one entitled ' La Muse Cavalier.' 
 
 " On the landing of the Prince of Orange, he had conferred 
 on him the command of a regiment, and was created Baron 
 of Gowran in Ireland, December 6, 1690. April 14, 1693, 
 he was appointed governor of the Isle of Wight, and raised 
 in rank to be a Major-General. 
 
 " In 1696, when the assassination plot was discovered, 
 Lord Cutts was Captain of the King's Guards. In 1699, in 
 some complimentary verses to King William on his conquests, 
 Lord Cutts is thus introduced :
 
 106 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 " The warlike Cutis the welcome tidings brings. 
 The true best servant of the best of Kings ; 
 Cutts, whose known worth no herald need proclaim, 
 His wounds and his own worth can speak his fame." 
 
 "As Colonel of the Coldstream Guards, Steele was in- 
 debted to him, in 1701, for a military commission, and to 
 him he dedicated his ' Christian Hero.' On the accession 
 of Queen Anne, he was made a Lieutenant-General of the 
 Forces in Holland; Commander-in-Chief of the Forces in 
 Ireland under the Duke of Ormond, March 23, 1705 ; and, 
 ' to keep him out of the way of action,' subsequently one of 
 the Lords Justices, a circumstance which it is said broke his 
 heart. He died at Lord KeiTy's house, in Dublin, January 
 26, 1707, and was buried in the Cathedral of Christ's Church." 
 — Abridged from Thorpe's Catalogue of State Papers. 
 
 (G) " The wreath of laurel which the unfortunate James 
 won by sea he lost by land. Having been a spectator of the 
 battle of the Boyne, he thought it most prudent while the 
 fate of the day was yet undecided to seek for safety in flight. 
 In a few hours he reached the Castle of Dublin, where he was 
 met by Lady Tyrconnell, a woman of spirit. ' Your country- 
 men (the Irish), Madam,' said James, as he was ascending the 
 stairs, ' can run well.' — ' Not quite so well as youi Majesty,' 
 retorted her ladyship, ' for I see you have won the race.' 
 Having slept that night in Dublin, he rode the next day to 
 Waterford, a distance of two hundred English miles, in the 
 space of twenty-four hours. On his arrival in that city he 
 went immediately on board a ship that lay ready for him in 
 the harbour, in order to carry him to France. As he was 
 passing along the quay a sudden gust of wind carried oflF his 
 hat, and as it was night, General O'Ferrall, an old officer in 
 the Austrian service, presented him with his own. James took
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 107 
 
 it without any ceremony, observing as he put it on his head, 
 that if he had lost a crown by the Irish, he had gained a hat 
 by them." 
 
 The following graphic extract from a contemporary journal, 
 affords a complete vindication of Lady Tyrconnell's reply : 
 
 "July 1st. Early in the morning the Protestants were 
 wakened by an alarm, and the news that there would be a 
 battle. The gates of the city {Dublin) were kept strictly 
 guarded, and the Protestants kept their houses. The issue 
 they expected with the greatest apprehensions. Several reports 
 were spread abroad every hour: one, that the French fleet 
 were in the bay ; another, that a French express was come 
 from Waterford, with the news of taking the Isle of Wight, 
 by the French, and of their being gone to Dover ; then that 
 the English right wing were quite routed; then that the 
 Prince of Orange was taken prisoner. But at five that after- 
 noon, some that had made their escape on tired horses, told 
 the Protestants that the Irish were much worsted, and others, 
 at six, that they were totally defeated. From hence, till one 
 that night, all the entries of the town were filled with dusty, 
 wounded, and tired soldiers and carriages perpetually com_ 
 ing in. 
 
 " After these, several of King James's horse-guards came 
 in straggling, without pistols or swords, and could not tell 
 what was become of himself. 
 
 " Near ten at night, he came in with about two hundred 
 horse, all in disorder. The Protestants concluded now that it 
 was a total rout, and that the English army were just ready 
 to come into town, but were greatly surprised, when an hour 
 or two after they heard the whole body of the Irish horse 
 coming in, in very good order, with kettle-drums, hautboys, 
 and trumpets ; and early the next morning the French, and a 
 great party of the Irish foot. These being a little rested.
 
 108 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 marched out again (as they gave out) to meet the enemy, 
 which were supposed to draw nigh. 
 
 "Wednesday, July 2d. About five this morning. King 
 James, having sent for the Irish Lord Mayor and some prin- 
 cipal persons to the castle, made a speech to them." 
 
 This speech is well known, and has beeu admirably criti- 
 cized by O'Driscol. {History of Ireland, vol. ii. p. 218.) 
 Immediately after its delivery James left Dublin for Waterford. 
 
 (H). The morning after the Battle of the Boyne, " His 
 Majesty sent Brigadier la Meillouere, with one thousand 
 horse and dragoons, a party of foot and eight pieces of cauuon, 
 to summons Drogheda, wherein the Irish had a garrison of 
 about 1300 men, commanded by my Lord Iveagh, who sur- 
 rendered the town upon condition that his garrison should 
 have leave to march out without their arms, and be conducted 
 to Athlone ; tho' their barbarity in tying the Protestants, in 
 town, back to back, and placing them where they expected 
 our guns to play (see p. 63) ought not to be forgot." — Story^s 
 wars of Ireland, p. 26. (1693.) 
 
 (I). " Major General Kii-k, with his own regiment and Col. 
 Brewer's, as also a party of horse, marched (on the 20th July 
 1690) from Carrick towards Waterford, more forces designing 
 to follow. The ilajor General sent a trumpet to summon 
 the town, who, at first, refused to surrender, there being two 
 regiments then in garrison ; their refusal, however, was in 
 such civil terms, that their inclinations were easily understood; 
 for soon after, they sent out to know what terms they might 
 have ? which were the same mth those of Drogheda. But not 
 liking tliem, they proposed some of their own, which were, 
 that they might enjoy their estates, the liberty of their religion, 
 and a safe convoy to the next garrison, with their arms and
 
 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 109 
 
 proper goods. Those would not be granted ; then the heavy 
 cannon were brought down that way, and some more forces 
 ordered to march. But the Irish, understanding this, sent to 
 ask liberty to march out with their arras, and to have a safe 
 convoy, which was granted them. And accordingly on the 
 25th, they marched out, with their arms and baggage, being 
 conducted to Mallow. 
 
 " The day after Waterford surrendered, (July 26) King 
 William went to see it, and took care that no persons should 
 be disturbed in their houses and goods." — Smith's Waterford, 
 p. 154. 
 
 THE STOUT INNISKILLIN MAN. 
 
 " Nor did Inniskillin, another town in the north of 
 Ireland," says the author of a History of King William 
 III, " contribute less than Londonderry to the asserting 
 the Protestant cause ; for upon notice that the latter 
 had deny'd entrance to the Lord Antrim's Regiment, 
 they resolved not to admit any Irish garrison, and 
 having raised a regiment of twelve companies, gave the 
 command of it to Gustavus Hamilton, Esq. a person of 
 conduct and resolution, whom they likewise chose their 
 governor. The towns-men being thus in some posture 
 of defence, proclaimed King William and Queen Mary, 
 on the 11th March [ 1689] ; but the Lord Galraoy de- 
 
 * London, 1702, vol. ii. p. 69.
 
 110 THE STOUT INNISKILLIN MAN. 
 
 daring for King James, some time after his Majesty's 
 arrival at Dublin, summoned the Governor of Innis- 
 killin to surrender that place to him, with a promise as 
 from King James, to grant them better terras than they 
 miglit ever expect from him afterwards. A council 
 being called upon this summons, it was unanimously 
 agreed to stand firm to their former resolutions of de- 
 fending the Protestant religion, and maintaining King 
 William's title. 
 
 " Whereupon, the Lord Galmoy landed all his forces 
 towards Crom, a castle sixteen miles distant fromlnnis- 
 killin, and possessed by the Protestants, which was be- 
 sieged some time by part of his troops ; but the Innis- 
 killiners having thrown a relief of two hundred men 
 into the castle, forced him to raise the siege and to re- 
 treat to Belturbat. On the Sith of April, a detachment 
 of the garrison of Inniskillin, headed by Lieutenant 
 Colonel Lloyd, made an excursion into the enemies' 
 country, took and demolished the Castle at Aughor, 
 and returned home with a considerable booty. Several 
 other skirmishes and rencontres passed between the 
 two parties, wherein the Inniskilliners signalized their 
 valour, and always came off with advantage ; but none 
 of those actions was so remarkable as that which hap- 
 pened, as it were, by a particular appointment of Pro- 
 vidence, on the same day Londonderry was relieved, 
 wherein 2000 Inniskilliners fought and routed 6000 
 Irish at a place called Newtown-Butler, and took their 
 commander, M'Carthy [More], with the loss only of 
 twenty men killed, and fifty wounded." 
 
 Upon more than one occasion Schomberg compli-
 
 THE STOUT INNISKILLIN MAN. Ill 
 
 mented the bravery of the Inniskillin troops in the 
 highest manner ; and the many gallant feats performed 
 by them are to be found recorded in " A true Relation 
 of the Actions of the Inniskillen Men," from their first 
 taking up arms in December, 1688, by the Rev. An- 
 drew Hamilton,* and " A farther impartial Account 
 of the Inniskillen men," by Captain William Mac Car- 
 mock.f 
 
 " These troops," says 0'Driscol,t speaking in what 
 may be called the dashing historical style, " the fame 
 of whose exploits had been spread abroad, excited 
 much attention in the British camp. Their appearance 
 was remarkable. They were a fine and hardy body of 
 men; but resembled more a horde of wild Arabs, or 
 Italian banditti, than a body of European cavalry. They 
 observed little order in their military movements ; and 
 no uniformity of dress or accoutrement. Every soldier 
 was armed and clad according to his own fancy, and 
 each man was attended like the Asiatic military, by a 
 servant mounted on an inferior horse and carrying his 
 heavy arms and baggage. § 
 
 * London, 4to. p. 65. 1690. 
 
 t London, 4to. p. 68. 1G9L 
 
 X " History of Ireland," vol. ii. p. 55. 
 
 § The practice of horsemen requiring attendants, appears 
 to have been carried to a serious extent in Ireland. Pierce 
 Butler, Earl of Orraond and Ossory, being required in the 
 time of a Geraldine rebellion to send to the Lord Deputy a 
 body of sixty or eighty horsemen, objected to the expense it 
 would be to the king; begging his lordship to consider, that 
 " every horssman must have 3 horsses and 3 kepers." — MS. 
 Letter in State Paper Office.
 
 112 THE STOUT INNISKILLIN MAN. 
 
 " But they were distinguished by an astonishing 
 rapidity of movemenl, and a boldness or rather fierce- 
 ness, and contempt of all difficulty and danger, which 
 made them almost invincible. They never calculated 
 obstacles or counted numbers, but rushed to the attack 
 with the ferocity and exultation of a tiger when bound- 
 ing upon his prey. That the enemy was Popish was 
 enough to excite horror and contempt. To hesitate in 
 attacking such a foe was disgrace worse than death ; 
 and to slaughter them a more acceptable service to the 
 Lord than a smoking holocaust offered by David him- 
 self. 
 
 " These strange troops were religious men or thought 
 they were. Their memories were abundantly stored 
 with scraps of the Old Testament, chiefly relating to 
 the massacres and spoliations committed by the Jews. 
 Upon these they formed themselves, and with these 
 they justified their practices. They were robbers and 
 murderers. They spared no man's life or property. 
 When spoil was not otherwise to be had, they never 
 hesitated to plunder their own party, whether Irish 
 Protestants or British allies. They were a fearful 
 scourge in the country, and aggravated dreadfully the 
 calamities of the war ; but they were scrupulous to 
 have their proper establishment of Chaplains or gifted 
 preachers of the word ; and heard prayers or out- 
 pourings of the spirit regularly. The Derrymen were 
 in all respects similar to the Inniskilliners. 
 
 " The Inniskilliners could not endure the restraints of 
 discipline ; and when placed under Schomberg's com-
 
 THE STOUT INNISKILLIN MAN. 113 
 
 mand, they said of themselves that ' they should never 
 thrive so long as they were under his orders,' and they 
 were right. They were a kind of Cossack cavalry, 
 that were of no use unless left to themselves, and their 
 irregularities connived at. Schomberg did not under- 
 stand them ; and General Ginckle, at a later pei'iod of 
 the war, considered them a nuisance and hated them 
 cordially." 
 
 Although there are some truths in this sketch of the 
 Inniskilliners, it is evidently the preparatory candid 
 statement of an ingenious lawyer, to support his asser- 
 tions respecting their conduct at the Boyne, where he 
 would represent, if he could, these wild and fanatic 
 troops as wanting in courage when headed by " their 
 saviour," as William was irreverently styled by them. 
 
 It is said, by O'Driscol, that King William led on 
 bravely to the attack, his horse regiments ; " their 
 charge was met by that of the Irish cavalry, and they 
 had no sooner come in contact than the whole of this 
 foreign cavalry went about and rode off the field. 
 The Irish horse followed in pursuit, and the king stood 
 alone upon the field of battle. At this moment," con- 
 tinues O'Driscol, <* the Inniskilliners appeared coming 
 up, and the King rode towards them and asked them 
 what they would do for him ? Woolsey told his men, 
 it was the king, and asked if they would follow him ? 
 The men replied by a shout, and the King put himself 
 at their head, and rode towards the Irish infantry ; but 
 the northerns did not venture to charge, and on receiving 
 
 I
 
 114 THE STOUT INNISKILLIN MAN. 
 
 a well-directed volley they tvent about, and left the King 
 alone on the field as before." 
 
 Now contemporary writers, and eye-witnesses of the 
 conduct of the Inniskilliners — those men of wild and 
 fanatic bravery, who are represented as deserting their 
 King upon the field of battle, in consequence of a well- 
 directed volley, — assure us that they behaved most gal- 
 lantly. 
 
 According to one authority,* " Duke Schomberg 
 headed the Dutch fort-guards, and the King the Innis- 
 killin horse, telling them, ' they should be his guards 
 that day.' " Is it probable then, that these men, — men 
 who had been, for the preceding eighteen months under 
 constant fire, would desert, at this critical moment, the 
 post of danger and of honour ? Story's words are, 
 " the Inniskilliners, and French, too, both horse and 
 foot, did good service" [at the Boyne,] 
 
 A contemporary manuscript account of the battle, 
 most probably gives the true explanation of the retreat 
 of the Inniskilliners, After William's foreign cavalry 
 had been forced back, " the King, with that coolness of 
 thought which accompanies true courage, rode up to 
 the Inniskillin horse, and asked, what they would do 
 for him ? Their officer told his men that it was King 
 William who asked them that question. The brave 
 
 * " A true and perfect Journal of the Affairs of Ireland 
 since His jNIajesty's Arrival in that Kingdom, by a Person of 
 Quality." London 1690. See also " Villare Hibernicura, by 
 W. Griffyth, Esq." Loudon, 1690.
 
 THE STOUT INNISKILLIN MAN. 115 
 
 fellows then gave a loud cheer, and the King saying 
 that they should be his guards, headed them. They 
 advanced with the King, and received the enemy's fire ; 
 and as his Majesty wheeled to the left they followed. 
 But when King William led up some Dutch troops, 
 they perceived their error, and returned bravely to the 
 charge." 
 
 The following song is given from a manuscript, in 
 which it is stated to have been "sung at the play-houses." 
 It is printed with some slight variations in D'Urfey's 
 " Pills to purge Melancholy," vol. i. p. 203, where it is 
 entitled, " Mac Bailor, a comical ditty, in imitation of 
 the Irish stile," and where the music may be found. 
 
 THE STOUT INNISKILLIN MAN. 
 
 If a woeful sad ditty to know thou art willing, man, 
 Open thy ears, joy, and then thou shalt see ;* 
 To London, Mac Ballor,f a stout Inniskillin man, 
 
 A seeking brown Kate, by my shoul am come eey ; 
 My heart is sore wounded, sore wounded, sore, 
 
 A la boo, boo, boo, boo, hone, ok hone, hery Morah. 
 
 * A specimen of that figure of speech called a bull. To 
 Irishmen speaking imperfectly the English language, may be 
 ascribed the national reputation for blunders. 
 
 \ Mac Bailor means literally son of a clown. " lialach, a 
 clown, a sturdy fellow." — O'Reilly. 
 
 I 2
 
 116 THE STOUT INNISKILLIN MAN. 
 
 When the valiant King William cross'd over the Boyne, 
 
 joy. 
 
 And with broken pates made Jack Papishes flee ; 
 Of dragoons a brave troop made a gallop to join, joy, 
 
 And march with the foremost by Chreest did come eey ; 
 They were beaten sore, curst and swore, and did roar, 
 Jl la boo, boo, boo, ^c. 
 
 When I went on a party, I sung and was merry too. 
 Though hunger gives small occasion to laugh ; 
 
 I without any grumbUng fought in Londonderry too, 
 Without one dram of Snush or Usquebaugh, 
 
 Where we fed on roots, stinking fruits, old jack boots, 
 A la boo, boo, boo, 6fc. 
 
 In a skirmish near Limerick, on the banks of the Shan- 
 non there, 
 Many stout Teagues were slain in time of rout ; 
 And at Aghrim I narrowly escaped the damned cannon 
 there. 
 Catching the balls by my shoul in my mout. 
 But though the guns spared my bones, love Gad zoons, 
 A la boo, boo, boo, 8^c. 
 
 The bully god, Mars, though a bug-bear they make him. 
 All arm'd like a gunsmith with bullets and fire, 
 
 I defy ; but the little whelp, Cupid, plague take him. 
 Makes me snort and grunt like a hog in the mire. 
 
 She has Irish eyes, Dutch size, an English prize, 
 A la boo, boo, boo, 5fc.
 
 THE STOUT INNISKILLIN MAN. 117 
 
 Heaven make me a cobler, or make me a broom-man, 
 Or, cry puddings, what a plague call ye it i' th' streets. 
 
 So I may no more follow after a woman ; 
 
 De'il take me, 't has scared me quite out of my wits : 
 
 For when I get drunk, like a monk, I'm in a funk. 
 A la boo, boo, boo, ^c. 
 
 THE TREATY OF LIMERICK. 
 
 "When they came to capitulate," says Burnet, "the 
 Irish insisted on very high demands, which was set on 
 by the French, who hoped they would be rejected ; but 
 the king had given Ginckle secret instructions that he 
 should grant all the demands they could make that 
 would put an end to the war. So every thing was 
 granted, to the great disappointment of the French, 
 and the no small grief of some of the English, who 
 hoped this war should have ended in the total ruin of 
 the Irish interest " 
 
 " No one was pleased ;" observes O'Driscol. " The 
 Anglo-Irish party inveighed bitterly against the treaty, 
 as being unreasonably favourable to the Irish, whom it 
 was their object to crush, not to treat with. The Irish 
 were loud in their accusations of those who had made 
 peace with an enemy, who they asserted had never yet 
 kept faith with them ; and at a moment when a great 
 French fleet was on the coast, and when, even without
 
 118 THE TREATY OF LIMERICK. 
 
 their help, thej^ were able and ready to fight the battle 
 out to the last. The court of France cried out loudly 
 against the treaty, as treasonable and disgraceful ; 
 having been made without necessity." 
 
 After some interesting remarks upon this famous 
 treaty, O'Driscol proceeds : — " The clergy of the vio- 
 lent party commenced preaching against the treaty, 
 Dr. Dopping, Bishop of Meath, had the boldness to 
 preach against it before the Lords Justices, at Christ 
 Church, in Dublin, the Sunday after their return from 
 Limerick. He reproached the justices bitterly for the 
 treaty they had concluded, and argued that Protestants 
 were not bound to keep faith with Papists. 
 
 " The king was alarmed at this spirit, and ordered 
 Dopping to be removed from the council ; and Dr. 
 Moreton, bishop of Kildare, and other moderate di- 
 vines, Mere instructed topreach the obligation of keeping 
 faith with all men. But Dopping continued to be the 
 popular man amongst his party." 
 
 The epigram, or " smart poem," on the treaty of 
 Limerick, here given, is copied from a rare tract of 
 twelve pages, entitled the " British Muse, or Tyranny 
 Expos'd : a satyr, occasioned by all the fulsom and 
 lying poems and elegies that have been written on the 
 deatli of the late King James, to which is added a 
 smart poem on the generous Articles of Limerick and 
 Galway." ^A MS. note adds, "supposed to have been 
 written by Tutchin."] 
 
 " London, Printed for Eliz. Mallet, and Sold by the
 
 THE TREATY OF LIMERICK. 119 
 
 Williamite Book-sellers of London and Dublin, who 
 are the haters of Tyranny and Slavery." 
 
 This tract is without date, but appears from the 
 address to the reader to have been published immedi- 
 ately after the death of James II (1700). " He [James] 
 has now," says the writer, " paid his debt to nature. 
 But his men of blood, who had not fully satisfied their 
 sanguinary desires in the late reign, are building monu- 
 ments of praise to his memory, which ought to be 
 buried in eternal oblivion. These men are the occasion 
 of this poem, and if they find it disagreeable they may 
 thank themselves." 
 
 Tutchin — " Captain Tutchin," as he was nicknamed — 
 the supposed author of this epigram, was the gentleman 
 w^ho, being sentenced by Jeffries to be whipt in several 
 market-towns, for writing something or other in favour 
 of Monmouth, petitioned the king that his sentence 
 might be changed to hanging. He was a poor, miser- 
 able wretch, and died in great distress in some privi- 
 leged place, in 1707 ; his death being said to have been 
 hastened by a severe personal chastisement, inflicted 
 upon him about a month before by some friends of 
 King James. 
 
 " The following verses were made upon the surrender 
 of Limerick, 1691. When the late King James's army 
 (that fled there) obtained such large conditions."
 
 120 THE TREATY OF LIMERICK. 
 
 THE TREATY OF LIMERICK. 
 
 Hard fate, that still attends our Irish war. 
 The conquerors lose, the conquered gainers are ; 
 Their pens the triumph of our swords defeat : 
 We fight like soldiers, but like fools we treat. 
 Sure Teague has charm'd us with some fatal spell : 
 For lest the coward should no more rebell, 
 Lest he grow honest by becoming poor, 
 We pardon all his former bloody score, 
 And set him up again to murther more, 
 With a new fund of our own plunder'd store ; 
 But England doubtless in our loss will share ; 
 And, to reconquer, a new tax prepare. 
 
 IT WAS A' FOR OUR RIGHTFU' KING 
 
 Is copied, with the following introductory observations, 
 from a small volume, entitled " Jacobite Minstrelsy," 
 published at Glasgow in 1829. There have been so 
 many clever modern imitations in Scotland of Jacobite 
 songs, that it is difficult to distinguish between what is 
 genuine or not, and the Editor is therefore unwilling to 
 risk an opinion in this matter ; he consequently gives 
 this song and its history as he found them. 
 
 " Captain Ogilvie, of the house of Inverquharity, is 
 believed to have been the author of this song. He
 
 IT WAS a' for our rightful KING. 121 
 
 was with King James at the battle of the Boyne, and 
 afterwards fell in an engagement on the Rhine. It is 
 said also that he was one of the hundred gentlemen, all 
 of good families, who volunteered to attend their royal 
 master in his exile. James had afterwards the pain of 
 seeing these devoted followers submit voluntarily to 
 become private soldiers on his account in the French 
 service, rather than return to their own country, with 
 permission of the government, although it was optional 
 to them to do so. They were formed into one company, 
 and fought both in Spain and on the Rhine with heroic 
 valour and reputation. At the peace of 1696 only 
 sixteen of them remained alive. Of the whole number 
 only four were Catholics ; the rest were Protestants of 
 the Episcopalian persuasion, and several of them had 
 been bred as divines. What is perhaps still more 
 curious, by far the greater portion of them were low- 
 landers." 
 
 IT WAS A' FOR OUR RTGHTFU' KING. 
 
 It was a' for our rightfu' king 
 We left fair Scotland's strand ! 
 
 It was a' for our rightfu' king 
 We e'er saw Irish land, my dear, 
 We e'er saw Irish land.
 
 122 IT AVAS a' for our rightfu' king. 
 
 Now a' is done that men can do, 
 
 And a' is done in vain ; 
 My love an' native land, fareweel, 
 
 For I maun cross the main, my dear ; 
 
 For I maun cross the main. 
 
 He turn'd him right an' round about 
 
 Upon the Irish shore, 
 And ga'e his bridle-reins a shake. 
 
 With, " Adieu for evermore, my dear ; 
 
 With, " Adieu for evermore." 
 
 The sodger frae the wars returns. 
 
 The sailor frae the main ; 
 But I hae parted frae my love, 
 
 Never to meet again, my dear, 
 
 Never to meet again. 
 
 When day is gane, an' night is come, 
 An' a' folk bound to sleep, 
 
 I think on him that's far awa'. 
 
 The lee-lang night an' weep, my dear, 
 The lee-lang night an' weep.
 
 123 
 
 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS 
 
 Is reprinted from a rare 4to. pamphlet of twelve pages, 
 so entitled : — " A Tale of a King James's Irish Shilling. 
 
 Quis talia fando, 
 
 Mynnidonum Dolopumve aiit duri miles Ulyssei 
 Temperet a lacrymis ? 
 
 Virgil, jEneid. ii. 
 
 London, Printed and Sold by R. Burleigh, in Amen 
 Corner. 1714. (Price 5d.y 
 
 The title-page is embellished with a wood-cut, not 
 badly executed, of the reverse and obverse of James 
 the Second's brass shilling, for August 1689. 
 
 " When the late king was obliged by his necessity to 
 make brass money current in Ireland, it was at first 
 pretended to pass only in payments between man and 
 man in their daily commerce and dealings, and in pub- 
 lick payment of duties to the Exchequer. But soon 
 after, the Irish beginning to consider that they were 
 generally indebted to the English, and that this might 
 be a fit season, and a lucky opportunity to get their 
 debts easily and cheaply discharged, a proclamation 
 was published, enjoyning and requiring, that copper 
 and brass money should pass as current money within 
 the realm of Ireland, in the payment of bills, bonds, 
 debts by record, mortgages, and all other payments 
 whatsoever. By which knack many a poor Protestant 
 was fob'd out of his right, and compell'd to take an heap
 
 124 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 
 
 of trash for debt, (as he was for his wheat and other 
 commodities) or be precluded from any further satis- 
 faction. 
 
 " And thus I have heard that Colonel Roger Moore 
 was served, (but I do not aver it upon my certain know- 
 ledge) who having an incumbrance of £3,000 upon the 
 Lord Dillon's estate, who is married to the daughter of 
 the Lord or Lady Tyrconnel ; she sent for him, and 
 told him, that having some money at her command, 
 and being very desirous to take off the burthen from 
 her daughter's estate, she was content to pay him off in 
 ready money, provided he would make some handsome 
 abatement of the sum due. The gentleman being com- 
 plaisant to the lady, and very willing to receive money 
 in such a time of scarcity, freely consented to abate 
 a thousand pounds, so the rest might be paid down 
 at once. Tiie lady seem'd very thankful, and appointed 
 him to come next day, and to bi'ing the deeds and obli- 
 gations with him, and to receive his money. Accord- 
 ingly he came, and having given a legal release, the 
 lady opened a door, and shewed him a long table 
 covered over with copper and brass, and tendered it for 
 his payment ; which whether he rejected it in passion, 
 or hired a cart to carry it away I cannot tell ; but this 
 I can say, having an estate, which was mortgaged to 
 the old proprietor before ISil, to which on payment 
 of the mortgage money, he hoped to be restored by 
 repealing the Acts of Settlement; he repaired to me, 
 and desired me to appoint time and place for paying 
 the mortgage money, of which I have taken time to
 
 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 125 
 
 consider. One of the most eminent silver smiths in 
 Dublin, having sold all his plate to a papist, who pro- 
 mised to pay him his price (agreed upon) in silver and 
 gold ; but no faith being to be kept with hereticks, the 
 goldsmith was compelled to take brass and copper. 
 But not to detain the reader with many more of these 
 examples, I here present you with that savoury and 
 fruitful proclamation, which is to make brass money 
 pass in satisfaction of all debts. 
 
 " By the King, a Proclamation. 
 
 " James R. 
 
 " Whereas, we have by former Proclamations of the 
 \^th and 27 th days of June lact, for the reasons therein 
 set forth : ordained and declared, that a certain coyn 
 made by our order of a certain metal, mixed ivith cop- 
 per and brass, and marked and stamped as in the said 
 Proclamations is expressed, in Sixpence, Twclvepence, 
 and Half-crown pieces, should during cur pleasure pass 
 as current mony, anioug all our subjects tvithin this 
 realm, according to the rates and values in the said 
 Proclamations mention d ; and in all payments to be paid 
 either to us or from us, or to, or by any of our subjects 
 within this kingdom ; excepting mortgages, bills, bonds, 
 or obligations, debts due by record, and mony heretofore 
 left in trust or keeping ivith any person. And whereas 
 it hath since been represented to us, that such restriction 
 upon the said coyn is a great hindrance to trade and 
 industry, and to the circulation of the said mony, in
 
 126 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 
 
 regard men of trade and industry cannot have credit 
 without passing bonds and judgments, which since they 
 cannot satisjie by the said mony, they are therefuve the 
 less industrious to acquire it by the sale of any of their 
 goods or merchandizes, as are also the generality of all 
 others; because ivhen they have acquired any quantiti/ 
 thereof, they cannot thereby pay their debts, nor clear 
 their estates from incumbrances ; ivhereof toe have 
 thought ft by the advice of our privy council, further 
 to declare and ordain, that the aforesaid mony, made of 
 mixture of copper and brass as aforesaid, shall here- 
 after during our pleasure pass as current mony within 
 this realm, not only in all payments, in the said former 
 Proclamation mentioned ; but also in all the said pay- 
 ments of bills, bonds, debts by record, mortgages, and 
 all other payments whatsoever, in the said former Pro- 
 clamations excepted ; and whereas this is ordered at this 
 time to supply the present scarcity of mony, and remedy 
 the great inconvenience which would otherivise ensue ; 
 lue do therefore hereby promise and declare to all our 
 loving subjects, that as soon as the said mony shall be 
 called in, and decried, we shall thereupon not only 
 receive from all our loving subjects within this kingdom, 
 such proportion thereof as shall be in any of their 
 hands, at such time as it shall be so decried, according 
 to the value for which it noiv passes, in satisfaction of 
 any rents, customs, excise, debts or duties, which they 
 shall oive to us; but also where no such debts or duties 
 shall be due to us, tve will make full satisfaction for
 
 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 127 
 
 the same in gold or silver of the current coyn of this 
 kingdom. 
 
 " Given at our Court at Dublin Castle, the i^th 
 day of February, 1689."* 
 
 "About the 10th of March," (1690-1) says Story, 
 (p. 61 ) " we had an account by sorae Protestants, that 
 came out of Connaught, that the Irish a little after my 
 Lord Tyrconnel's landing, being out of humour with 
 the brass money, little or nothing being to be had for 
 it, they cry'd it down by Proclamation, the crown piece 
 to three pence, the half-crown to three halfpence, the 
 shilling to a penny, and the sixpence to an halfpenny. 
 After which the soldiers lived upon free quarters. Pro- 
 visions also being scarce, and no markets, for want of 
 money, those parts begun to be under worse circum- 
 stances every day." 
 
 In a curious contemporary manuscript, in the Editor's 
 library, written by Colonel Charles 0"Kelly,| the fol- 
 lowing particulars respecting the brass currency intro- 
 duced by James occur: — " Another grievance was, that 
 which was generally believed to be in a great measure the 
 occasion of the Irish ruin, and of the disorders of their 
 
 * An Account of the Transactions of the late King James 
 in Ireland. London, 1690. 
 
 f As the names of the parties and places mentioned appear 
 masked in this manuscript, — for instance, Aniasis, for James ; 
 Corydon, for Tyrconnel ; Cjin-us, for Ireland ; Syria, for 
 France; &c. — the disguise has been removed in the above 
 extract, with the view of making it readily intelligible.
 
 128 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 
 
 government. This was the abundance of copper monej' 
 that was coined bj' the king's order, and which produced 
 so many inconveniences in the countrj', that it merits a 
 more particular relation, and deserves to be traced up to 
 its source. When James arrived in Ireland, which was 
 about the middle of March, in the second year of the 
 war, he found the country very bare of gold and silver 
 (the English, who had all the wealth of the kingdom 
 in their hands, having transported their effects info 
 England) ; and as he was not very fond of spending in 
 haste the stock of money which Louis XIV freely 
 granted for the support of the war in Ireland, least it 
 might oblige him to call for more; a thing he would 
 gladly avoid, foreseeing, that by being too far engaged 
 to any foreign prince in that manner, the reimburse- 
 ment of such vast sums must exhaust his treasure when 
 he came to the possession of his kingdoms, which he 
 soon expected, by the voluntary submission of his 
 deluded subjects ; he was therefore advised by a Scotch 
 counsellor, to make use of this copper coin to serve his 
 present turn in Ireland ; adding that this method would 
 enable him to employ a good part of his gold to keep 
 in heart his friends in Scotland and gain others in Eng- 
 land, which he represented was of greater consequence 
 than the affairs of Ireland, and that matters being once 
 settled there, he might recall this coin again and recom- 
 pense the losers. But though the French ambassador, 
 Count d'Avaux, and the nobles of Ireland, assured 
 James, that if he laid out the money he brought from 
 France, it would by circulation come back again into
 
 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 129 
 
 his treasury (the Parliament of the kingdom having 
 already freely granted a subsidy of £200,000); ne- 
 vertheless the Scottish advice prevailed. Accord- 
 ingly a considerable part of the gold was sent into that 
 country, and the remainder being reserved by James 
 for a dead lift, the copper money was resolved upon, and 
 the mint set to work in the August of the second year. 
 " On its first appearance abroad, the Protestants in 
 Leinster shewed a reluctancy to receive it ; but they 
 were soon forced into a compliance. Elsewhere it 
 passed pretty well in the beginning ; the people, who 
 were hitherto scant of money, being glad to have any 
 coin current among them, to advance trade, which was 
 dead in the country. But when it came to be coined 
 in such plenty, that the merchants, who could not use 
 it in foreign countries, raised the price of their out- 
 landish ware to an unreasonable rate, and that the 
 country people, following the example, began to rise 
 the prices of their commodities also, and in fine, that 
 the French troops, who were paid in silver, seemed to 
 reject it ; then, and not before, it began to decline. 
 But what undervalued it most, was the little esteem the 
 great ones about court shewed for it : Tyrconnel's 
 lady commonly giving double the quantity of brass for 
 so much silver. This made the inferior sort to vilify 
 the coin, which became so despicable, especially after 
 the defeat of James on the river Boyne, that the com- 
 modity which might be purchased for one piece of 
 silver would cost twenty in brass ; and yet Tyrconnel, 
 and those who governed under him, extorted from the 
 
 K
 
 130 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 
 
 country people their goods at the king's rate, when paid 
 in silver. But the oppression that the poor Irish mer- 
 chants lay under in the cities of Limerick and Gahvay, 
 from Tyrconnel's party, was most insufferable. A factor 
 who had his goods ready to be shipped on board a 
 vessel hired for that purpose, must have the affliction 
 to behold his warehouse broke open, and all the intended 
 freight, which he acquired with so great pains and 
 expense, snatched from him in a moment ; for which 
 he had the value given him in copper according to the 
 king's rate (or perhaps a ticket for it) which would not 
 yield him the price of a shoebuckle in any foreign 
 country. And though this plunder was daily committed, 
 under pretence of supplying the king's stores, yet the 
 misfortune was, that the nephews and nieces, the friends 
 and favourites of Tyrconnel, got the greater part of 
 the spoil. The town of Galway can bear witness that 
 this was done commonly by his own orders, when he 
 was there to take shipping for France. If an outlandish 
 vessel came in by chance (for few would come design- 
 edly into a land where no other coin was used but 
 copper) the whole cargo was immediately seized, and 
 the owners must stay until their ship was loaded again 
 with the country provisions or commodities, which were 
 to be plundered from the natives. This unhappy man- 
 agement made all neighbouring nations shun that part 
 of Ireland, which was reputed an infamous den of rob- 
 bers and a receptacle of pyrates. It was the common 
 opinion, that this pitiful project of the copper coin was 
 purposely advised by some, who designed the total
 
 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 131 
 
 ruin of Ireland ; for it might easily be foreseen, that it 
 would quickly destroy all commerce, wherein chiefly 
 consists the wealth of any country surrounded by the 
 sea." 
 
 As money is said to be the sinews of war, O'Driscol's 
 view of the policy of this question, on both sides, is 
 perhaps worthy of consideration. 
 
 " The two kings who divided the British empire at 
 this time, were both driven by their necessities to 
 schemes of finance. William, having been reared in 
 the counting-house of Holland, was the abler contriver. 
 He laid the basis of the debt of England, by borrowing 
 gold and pawning the revenue of the country to the 
 lender. James did not understand the matter, or could 
 get no one to lend upon his security ; and the alchemy 
 of banking, or converting paper into gold, was not yet 
 discovered. But his plan was not very different. 
 
 " James's plan was to convert copper, or other metal 
 of small value, into gold and silver. He coined a large 
 quantity of base metal, into pieces upon which he 
 stamped a nominal value, and made them a legal tender 
 for crowns, halfcrowns, and other silver and gold coin. 
 By his proclamation, this new coinage was to be re- 
 ceived in all dealings, except only in the payment of 
 trust money, or money due on bills, bonds, or mort- 
 gages, and except for customs on imported commodities. 
 These exceptions were soon removed, — all but the latter. 
 
 " James promised that this coin should, at the end of 
 the war, be received in payment at the Exchequer, and 
 exchanged for sterling money. A i-espectable historian
 
 132 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 
 
 (Leland) says, that this plan of finance was against all 
 ' law, reason, and humanity,' and that it has rendered 
 the name of James 'horrible to Irish Protestants.' It 
 was not against law, because a law was made for the 
 purpose ; and reason and humanity seem to have little 
 to do with financial schemes. James's was as good as 
 many of later date. His bank failed, undoubtedly; so 
 have many other banks ; but the Protestants did not 
 suffer more by the failure than the people of other 
 creeds. The Catholics were far the greatest holders 
 of James's promissory copper tokens. 
 
 " James's plan was a copper bank, set up instanter, 
 with an immediate bank restriction. There might have 
 been, no doubt, an over-issue ; but if the Protestants 
 lost, they had least right of any to complain, for 
 they did all they could to break the banker, and finally 
 succeeded in driving him out of the kingdom, copper- 
 notes and all. The Catholics lost by the coin very se- 
 verely, and they lost their estates also. The Protestants, 
 though they lost by this early experiment in banking, 
 recovered the land, which was ample compensation. 
 
 " In all former Irish wars, the land was made to pay 
 a great part, if not the whole, of the expense. Loans 
 were raised in London for carrying on the war, the 
 lender to be satisfied afterwards in Irish estates. This 
 system could not now be acted upon. There were 
 already two sets of claimants for the land : one claiming 
 under William, and the other under James. There was 
 no party that could be safely put out at this time.
 
 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 133 
 
 Hence the necessity of the financial measures resorted 
 to by the contending powers. 
 
 " James was totally ignorant how to support the 
 credit of his coin. He had but one idea about any 
 thing — force ; and force, when applied to the currency, 
 is sure to fail. His exceptions to the circulation of his 
 coin, though a clumsy attempt at being honest, were 
 very injurious to its credit. Probably, if he had got a 
 few thousand pounds of sterling coin, and made his 
 copper tokens convertible, he might have kept up their 
 credit, as long, at least, as things went on well in the 
 country ; and it would have been time enough for the 
 restriction after the battle of the Boyne. 
 
 " James, like greater financiers, soon found himself 
 exceedingly embarrassed. His metal tokens came back 
 rapidly to his exchequer, in the payment of all taxes 
 and assessments. They were paid to him at their no- 
 minal value, but in the common transactions of busi- 
 ness they fell almost to their intrinsic worth. He could 
 fix a denomination upon his coin ; but the seller of any 
 article could fix a price upon his commodity, to meet 
 the arbitrary denomination. If a piece of metal, worth 
 one penny, be tendered for a shilling, the seller of a 
 pennyworth of bread has only to ask a shilling for it, 
 and the difficulty is got rid of. James was puzzled at 
 this. He found it necessary, in of der to keep his scheme 
 of currency afloat, to take one step more, and fix a 
 price upon commodities, as he had settled a value upon 
 his coin.
 
 134 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 
 
 "Having done this, his views suddenly enlarged. 
 He found that money might be made of it; and he 
 turned merchant himself. He bought large quantities 
 of butter, corn, hides, wool, and other articles, at such 
 prices as he thought proper to give, and he paid for all 
 by a few pounds'-weight of tin or copper. It is easy to 
 believe that he was no welcome customer : but he had 
 persons employed to find out who had goods to sell ; 
 and none dared to refuse to deal with a customer who 
 had forty-two regiments of foot and fourteen of cavalry. 
 All those commodities he shipped to France, where thev 
 were sold for his own account. By this traffic, he real- 
 ised large sums of money, at the expense of his subjects." 
 
 There can be no question that the following ballad, 
 upon internal evidence, may be as fairly attributed to 
 Dean SAvift, as many effusions which have appeared in 
 several editions of his works ; but when it is stated that 
 the pamphlet from which it is copied, was found among 
 a bundle of broadsides, most, if not all, of which, are 
 well-known to be Swift's composition, and when it is 
 remembered how many of the productions of Swift's 
 muse, about the period when this " tale of King James' 
 Shilling" was printed (1714), are unknown, and to 
 which the Dean himself has made especial reference, it 
 will be admitted that this ballad deserves more than or- 
 dinary consideration, especially if it be possible to trace 
 in it the germs of feeling which afterwards displayed 
 themselves so vigorously in the Drapier's opposition to 
 Wood's coinage, and which have formed an immortal 
 wreath for the brow of Swift.
 
 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 135 
 
 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 
 
 I. 
 
 How wondrous fickle is this world 1 
 
 How Fortune's wheel turns round ! 
 The spoke that is to-day at top, 
 
 To-morrow 's on the ground. 
 II. 
 When once in dust a monarch 's laid, 
 
 His honour soon is gone. 
 All in an instant tack about 
 
 And court the rising sun. 
 III. 
 True friendship with Astraea went, 
 
 And took to Heav'n her flight, 
 For she and loyalty long since 
 
 Were banish'd Ireland quite. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The name of Christians we assume. 
 
 But are than Pagans worse. 
 There's few amongst us who have more 
 
 Religion than a horse. 
 
 V. 
 
 Religion a chimajra proves, 
 
 Heaven has our pray'rs the least, 
 
 All our sincere devotion 's paid 
 Alone to interest. 
 
 VI. 
 
 While my dear master smiled on me, 
 
 Whose image still I bear, 
 I was a welcome guest to all, — 
 
 Was courted everywhere.
 
 136 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 
 
 VII. 
 The gentleman, and tradesman, too, 
 
 My company approved ; 
 In city, and at Court I dwelt, 
 
 And was by all beloved. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The miser hugg'd me in his arms, 
 And lock'd me in his chest, 
 
 And never once his visit fail'd 
 Before he went to rest. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The ladies did my shapes approve, 
 My features, too, admired ; ' 
 
 Where e'en my king could never go, 
 Securely I retired. 
 
 X. 
 
 Within their bosoms lay all day, 
 And revelled in their arms ; 
 
 I was myself all over love, 
 And they all over charms. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Thus for a time I liv'd secure, 
 And at my heart's content, 
 
 But soon I found a wondrous change 
 On Will's establishment. ' 
 
 XII. 
 
 Some few, indeed, my stamp did prize, 
 
 As high as e'er before ; 
 Yet as the Revolution grew, 
 
 I wasted more and more.
 
 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 137 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Those few, at last, veer'd quite about, 
 
 And joyn'd in my disgrace, 
 They cry'd, my masters son, and I, 
 
 Came both of bastard race. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 That I had never seen the light. 
 
 If James had never run. 
 That I at Dublin was begot. 
 
 And was a cannon's son. 
 
 XV. 
 
 In such contempt, in short, I fell, 
 
 Which was a very hard thing. 
 They scurrilously us'd nac there, 
 
 For nothing but a farthing. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Mad, you may think, to be thus us'd, 
 
 Tho' miserably poor, 
 Thinking I couldn't well be worse, 
 
 To England I came o'er. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 But to my sorrow when I came. 
 
 Like-treatment there I found. 
 No Jajobite amongst 'em all 
 
 My former value own'd. 
 
 XVIIl. 
 
 All Will's, and best of Anna's, reign. 
 
 No better was my state ; 
 But yet I cheer'd myself with hopes 
 
 I should be fortunate. 
 
 L
 
 138 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 My master's son, 1 thought, would come. 
 
 His father's cause t' advance; 
 I thought t' have shewn my face again, 
 
 And welcom'd him from France. 
 XX. < 
 In greater lustre thought to shine, 
 
 Long hop'd to be prefer'd, 
 T' have laid the Father's image down, 
 
 For that of James the Third. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 But all my hopes abortive prov'd, 
 lu need, he found no friend. 
 
 There wasn't one amongst 'em all. 
 Would sail against the wind. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Misfortunes never come alone, 
 
 Just before Anna dy'd. 
 By Whigg and Tory, too, was I 
 
 Most basely mortify'd. 
 
 XXIIl. 
 
 No piece that wore m' unhappy face 
 Amongst the rogues would pass, 
 
 For any more than what would prove 
 To be my weight in brass. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 And now King George, and all his tribe. 
 
 Is settled in the nation, 
 I still a harder fate do dread, 
 
 A far-worse transmigration.
 
 THE JACKS PUT TO THEIR TRUMPS. K)9 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Some founder soon will melt me down, 
 
 And sell my despised mettle 
 To some damn'd tinker, in the street, 
 
 To mend some whore's damn'd kettle. 
 *xxvi. 
 Take warning, Brother Jacks, by me, 
 
 Before 'tis quite too late. 
 Think what will be your next remove, 
 
 If you should transmigrate. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 If you at Tyburn chance to swing, 
 You're brought all to such passes ; 
 
 That when you quit your present shapes. 
 You'll change, I fear, to asses. 
 
 C. UlCllARDS, I'KINTKR, ST. MARTIN S LANE.
 
 C6e iape anli ^oroiue 
 
 of
 
 THE 
 
 PAIN AND SORROW 
 
 EVIL MARRIAGE 
 
 FROM AN UNIQUE COPY 
 ^rintcTJ bi? Mnnfeyu tit Mortc. 
 
 LONDON : 
 REPRINTED FOR THE PERCY SOCIETY, 
 
 BY C. UICHARDS, ST. MARTINS LANE.
 
 COUNCIL 
 
 €i)t percp ^ofietLn 
 
 J. A. CAHUSAC, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 WILLIAM CHAPPELL, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 JOHN PAYNE COLLIER, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 T. CROFTON CROKER, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 REV. ALEXANDER DYCE. 
 
 RICHARD HALLIWELL, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL, Esq. F.R.S. Treasurer 
 
 WILLIAM JERDAN, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 SAMUEL LOVER, Esq. 
 
 CHARLES MACKAY, Esq. 
 
 E. F. RIMBAULT, Esq. Secretary. 
 
 THOMAS WRIGHT, Esq. M.A. F.S.A.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 There are three early humorous tracts in verse 
 upon the subject of marriage, all printed by 
 Wynkyn de Worde : only one of them has a 
 date, 1535, but we can have little difficulty in 
 assigning the two others to about the same 
 period. They have the following titles. 
 
 1. "A complaynt of them that be to soone 
 maryed." 
 
 2. " Here begynneth the complaynte of them 
 that ben to late maryed." 
 
 3. " The payne and sorowe of evyll maryage." 
 The last we have printed entire in the following 
 
 pages, and of the two others, Dr. Dibdin has 
 inserted a brief account in his edition of Ames 
 (Typ. Ant. ii. 384). We propose to go more at 
 large into a description of the contents of these 
 ancient and facetious relics. 
 
 We have reason to believe that the two first 
 are translations ; and in default of English cx])res- 
 sions, especially in the second piece, the writer
 
 has employed, and sometimes anglicised, several 
 of the French words, which he thought better 
 adapted to his purpose. To this production, 
 " the Auctour," as he calls himself, has subjoined 
 a sort of epilogue, which ingeniously includes the 
 printer's colophon, as follows : 
 
 " Here endeth the complaynt of to late maryed, 
 For spendynge of tyme or they a borde 
 The sayd holy sacramente have to longe taryed, 
 Humane nature tassemble and it to accorde. 
 Enprynted in Fletestrete by Wynkyn de Worde, 
 Dwellynge in the famous cyte of London, 
 His hous in the same at the sygne of the Sonne." 
 
 At the conclusion of the " complaynt of them 
 that be to soone maryed," the date of 1 535 has 
 also been interwoven. Wynkyn de Worde's will 
 was proved the 19th January, loSi, which, ac- 
 cording to our present mode of computing the 
 year, would be the 19th January, 1535 ; so that 
 either this piece came out after his death, or it 
 was printed just before that event, and in an- 
 ticipation of the new year, which would not then 
 commence until the 26th March. 
 
 Each of the tracts has a wood-cut on the title- 
 page, but only that called " The payne and 
 sorowe of evyll maryage," can be said to have 
 anything to do with the subject, and that no 
 doubt had been used for other works : it reprc-
 
 Vll 
 
 sents a marriage ceremony, — a priest joining the 
 hands of a couple before the altar. 
 
 The " complaynt of them that be to soone 
 maryed" opens with the following stanza: 
 
 " For as moclie as many folkc there be 
 That (lesyre the sacrament of wcddynge, 
 Other wyll kepe them in vyrgyny[l]e, 
 And toyll in chastyte be lyvynge; 
 Therl'ore I wyll put now in wrytynge 
 In what sorowe these men lede theyr lyves, 
 That to soone be coupled to cursed Wyves." 
 
 Thence the author proceeds to give some very 
 sage and serious advice upon the evil of too hasty 
 matrimonial alliances, but he does not attempt 
 much humour until he comes to describe the con- 
 duct of his wife (for he wi"ites in the first person 
 throughout) when they had been married eight 
 days : until then ho had not been " chyddon no 
 banged," but he suffered for it bitterly afterwards ; 
 
 " But soone ynoughe I had assayes 
 Of sorowe and care that made me bare." 
 
 It may here be observed that the stanza is peculiar, 
 and consists of eight lines, the four first lines 
 rhyming alternately, the fifth rhyming with the 
 fourth, then a line with a new rhyme, while the 
 seventh line rhymes with the third and fourth, and 
 the eighth with the sixth. He continues the nar- 
 rative of his sufferings in the following manner :
 
 Vlll 
 
 " About eyght dayes, or soone after 
 Our maryage, the tyme for to passe 
 My wyfe I toke, and dyd set her 
 Upon my knee for to solace ; 
 And began her for to enbrace, 
 Sayenge, syster, go get the tyme loste ; 
 We must thynke to labour a pace 
 To recompence that it hathe us coste. 
 
 " Than for to despyte she up arose, 
 And drewe her faste behynde me, 
 To me sayenge, is this the glose ? 
 Alas, pore caytyfe, well T se 
 That I never shall have, quod she. 
 With you more than payne and tormente : 
 I am in an evyll degre ; 
 I have now loste my sacramente. 
 
 " For me be to longe with you here, 
 Alas, I ought well for to thynke 
 What we sholde do within ten yere, 
 Whan we shall have at our herte brynke 
 Many chyldreu on for to thynke, 
 And crye after us without fayle 
 For theyr meate and theyr drynke ; 
 Then shall it be no mervayle. 
 
 " Cursed be the houre that I ne was 
 Made a none in some cloyster. 
 Never there for to passe ; 
 Or had be made some syster, 
 In servage with a clousterer. 
 It is not eyght dayes sythe oure weddynge 
 That we two togyther weere : 
 By god, ye speke to soone of werkynge." 
 
 The second piece of ancient facetiw^ " the 
 complaynte of them that ben to late maryed," is
 
 written with much more humour, and is far better 
 worth preservation, but it is disfigured by in- 
 delicacy, though not of the grossest kind, and 
 never introduced but for the sake of heightening 
 the drollery. It is the lamentation of an elderly 
 gentleman, who after a youth of riot had married 
 a young frolicksome wife, and he relates very 
 feelingly the inconveniences, annoyances, and jea- 
 lousies to which he is thereby exposed. After 
 two introductory stanzas, (all of them are in the 
 ordinary seven-line ballad form) he thus states 
 his resolution late in life to commit the folly of 
 matrimony. 
 
 " To longe have I lyved without onj' make ; 
 All to longe have I used my yonge age : 
 I wyll all for go and a vvyfe to me take 
 For to increase both our twoos lynage ; 
 For saynt John sayth that he is sage 
 That ayenst his wyll doth him governe, 
 And our lordes preccpte hym selfe for to learne. 
 
 " There is no greter pleasure than for to have 
 A wyfe that is full of prudence and wysdome. 
 Alas, for love nygh I am in poynte to rave. 
 These cursed olde men have an yll customc 
 Women for to blame, both all and some ; 
 For that they can not tlicyr myndes full fyll, 
 Therfore they speke of them but all yll. 
 
 " Now, syth that I have my tyme used 
 For to follow my folyshe pleasaunces, 
 And have my selfe oftentimes sore abused 
 At plaies and sportes, pompes and daunccs,
 
 Spendynge gokle and sylver and grete fynaunccs, 
 For faut of a wyfe the cause is all : 
 To late maryed men may me call." 
 
 Hence he proceeds to narrate his early coiu'ses, 
 especially his amours with " mercenary beauties." 
 He says : — 
 
 " Yf I withhelde ony praty one, 
 Swetely ynough she made me chere, 
 Sayenge that she loved no persona 
 But me, and therto she dyde swere. 
 But whan I wente fro that place there, 
 Unto another she dyde as moche ; 
 For they love none but for theyr poche." 
 
 His male companions were about upon a par 
 with his female, and upon both he wasted his 
 substance ; but having at last married, he ima- 
 gined that he had only to enjoy tranquillity and 
 happiness, and exclaimed : — 
 
 " Now am I out of this daunger so alenge, 
 Wherfore I am gladde it for to persever. 
 Longe about have I ben me for to renge ; 
 But it is better to late than to be never. 
 Ceites I was not in my lyfe tyll hyther 
 So full of joye, that doth in my herte iuspyre : 
 Wedded folke have tyme at theyr desyre." 
 
 On trying the experiment, he by no means finds 
 it answer his expectation. Besides other evils, 
 he says, " constrayned I am to be full of jalousy ;" 
 and he admits in plain terms that his young wife
 
 has no great reason to be satisfied with her old 
 husband. He observes : — 
 
 " It is saycl that a man in servytude 
 Hym puttetli, wlian he doth to woman bende : 
 He ne hath but only habytude 
 Unto her the whiche well doth hym tende. 
 Who wyll to householde comprehende, 
 And there a bout studyeth in youth alwayes, 
 He shall have honoure in his olde dayes. 
 
 " Some chyldren unto the courtes hauntes, 
 And ben purvayed of benefyccs ; 
 Some haiinteth markettes and ])e marchauntes, 
 Byenge and sellynge theyr marchaundyses ; 
 Or elles constytuted in otfyces. 
 Theyr faders and moders have grete solace, 
 That to late maryed l)y no waye base. 
 
 " I be wayll the tyme that is so spent, 
 That I ne me hasted tor to wedde ; 
 For I shall have hei-ytage and rente. 
 Both golde and sylver and kynrcd ; 
 But syth that our lorde hath ordeyned 
 That I this sacrament take me upon, 
 I wyll kepe it trewely at all season." 
 
 In the subsequent stanza, which occurs soon 
 afterwards, the author seems to alhide to the first 
 of the three tracts now under consideration. 
 
 " Yf that there be ony tryfelers, 
 That have wylled for tu blame maryage, 
 I dare well saye that they ben but lyers. 
 Or elles god fayled in the fyrste age : 
 Adam bereth wytnesse and tesuuniage : 
 Maryed he was, and comen we ben. 
 God dyde choyse maryage unto all men."
 
 xu 
 
 This stanza affords an instance of the employ- 
 ment of an anglicised French word because it 
 happened to answer the transhxtor"'s purpose as a 
 rhyme to " age." His objection is not to mar- 
 riage generally, but to marriage when a man has 
 ceased to be the subject of amorous affection ; for 
 he says expressly, 
 
 " All they that by theyr subtyll artes 
 Hath wylled for to blame maryage, 
 I wyll susteyne that they 1)6 bastardes, 
 Or at least wage an evyll courage, 
 For to saye that therein is servage 
 In niar\'age ; but I it reny, 
 For therin is but humayne company. 
 
 " Yf ther be yll women and rebell, 
 Shrewed, dispytous, and eke felonyous, 
 There be other fayre, and do full well, 
 Propre, gentyll, lusty and joyous, 
 That ben full of grace and vertuous ; 
 They ben not all born under a sygnet : 
 Happy is he that a good one can get." 
 
 He adds just afterwards : — 
 
 " Galantes, playne ye the tyme that ye have lost, 
 Maiy you be tyme, as the wj'se man sayth. 
 Tossed I have ben fro pyler to post 
 In commersynge natures werke alwayes. 
 I have passed full many quasy dayes, 
 That now unto good I can not mate, 
 For mary I dyde my selfe to late." 
 
 In the second line we ought to read " sayes"
 
 XUl 
 
 for " sayth," as the rhyme evidently shews. The 
 last stanza of the body of the poem is in the 
 same spirit. 
 
 " Better it is in youth a wyfe for to take, 
 And lyve with her to goddes pleasaunce, 
 Than to go in age, for goddes sake. 
 In worldly sorowe and pcrturhaunce. 
 For youthes love and utteraunce. 
 And than to dye at the last ende, 
 And be dampned in hell with the foule fende." 
 
 The thi'ee terminating stanzas consist of a sup- 
 plementary address from " the Auctour," the last 
 containing the imprint or colophon as already 
 inserted. The work is ended by Wynkyn de 
 Worde's well known tripartite device. 
 
 We now proceed to insert, in its entire shape, 
 the third tract upon this amusing subject, pre- 
 mising that (like our preceding quotations) it 
 is from an unique copy. It will remind the reader 
 in several places of passages in the Prologue of 
 Chaucer''s " Wife of Bath," especially where she 
 remarks, 
 
 " Thou sayst droppyug houses, and eke smoke, 
 And chidyng wyves maken men to flee 
 Out of her owne houses. Ah, benedicitc ! 
 What ayleth suche an olde man for to chide ?" 
 
 But the Wife of Bath does not quote Solomon 
 for the proverb, as we find him referred to on
 
 XIV 
 
 p. 20. Again, in a subsequent stanza, p. 21, we are 
 strongly reminded of the lines where the Wife of 
 Bath thus describes her conduct after she had 
 married her fifth husband :— 
 
 " Therfore made I ruy visytations 
 To vigilles, and to processyons, 
 To preachyng eke, and to pilgiymages, 
 To playes of myracles, and to manages, 
 And weared on my gay skarlet gytes." 
 
 The main difference is that instead of saying, 
 with Chaucer, that women frequent " playes of 
 myracles," the author of the ensuing tract tells 
 us that they delight " on scaffoldes to sytte on 
 high stages," from whence they usually beheld 
 such performances. Throughout, the writer seems 
 to have had our great early poet more or less in 
 his eye, and hence we may possibly conclude, that 
 if the two other pieces on the same subject were 
 translations, this was original. It, therefore, 
 deserves the more attention.
 
 THE PAYNE AND SOROWE OF 
 EVYLL MARYAGE. 
 
 Take hede and lerne, thou lytell chylde, and se 
 That tyme passed wyl not agayne retourne, 
 And in thy youthe unto vertues use the : 
 Lette in thy brest no maner vyce sojourne, 
 That in thyne age tliou have no cause to niourne 
 For tyine lost, nor for defaute of vvytte : 
 Thynke on this lesson, and in thy mynde it shytte. 
 
 Glory unto god, lovynge and benyson 
 To Peter and Johan and also to Laurence, 
 Whiche have nie take under proteccyon 
 From the deluge of mortall pestylence, 
 And from the tempest of deedly vyolence, 
 And me preserve that I fall not in the rage 
 Under the bonde and yocke of maryage. 
 
 I was in purpose to have taken a wyfe, 
 
 And for to have wedded without avysednes 
 
 A full fayre mayde, with her to lede my lyfe, 
 
 Whome that I loved of hasty wylfulnes. 
 
 With other fooles to have lyved in dystresse. 
 
 As some gave me counseyle, and began me to constrayno 
 
 To have be partable of theyr woofull payne. 
 
 B
 
 18 THE PAYNE AND SOROWE 
 
 They laye upon me, and hasted me full sore, 
 And gave me counseyle for to have be bounde. 
 And began to prayse cche daye more and more 
 The woofuU lyfe in whiche they dyd habounde. 
 And were besy my gladnes to confounde, 
 Themselfe rejoysynge, bothe at even and morowe, 
 To have a felowe to lyve with them in sorowe. 
 
 But of his grace god hath me preserved 
 By the wyse counseyle of these aungelles thre : 
 From hell gates they have my lyfe conserved 
 In tyme of warre, whan lovers lusty, 
 And bryght Phebus was fresshest unto se 
 In Gemynys, the lusty and glad season, 
 Whan to wedde caught fyrst occasyon. 
 
 My joye was sette in especyall 
 
 To have wedded one excellent in fayrnes. 
 
 And thrugh her beaute have made my selfe thrall 
 
 Under the yocke of everlastynge dystresse ; 
 
 But god alonely of his high goodnes 
 
 Hath by an aungell, as ye have herde me tell, 
 
 Stopped my passage from that peryllous hell. 
 
 Amonge these aungelles, that were in nombre thre, 
 
 There appered one out of the southe, 
 
 Whiche spake fyrst of all the trynyte 
 
 All of one sentence, the mater is full couthe ; 
 
 And he was called Johan with the golden mouthe, 
 
 Which concluded by sentence full notable, 
 
 Wyves of custome ben gladly varyable.
 
 OF EVYLL MARY AGE. 19 
 
 After this Johan, the story sayth also, 
 
 In confyrmacyon of theyr fragylyte, 
 
 How that Peter, called acorbylio, 
 
 AfFermeth playnly, how that wyves be 
 
 Dyverse of herte, full of duplycyte, 
 
 Mayterfull, hasty, and eke proude, 
 
 Crabbed of langage whan they lyst crye aloude. 
 
 Who taketh a wyfe receyveth a great charge, 
 In whiche he is full lyke to have a fall : 
 With tempest tossed, as is a besy barge ; 
 There he was fre he raaketh hymselfe thrall. 
 Wyves of porte ben full imperyall, 
 Husbandes dare not theyr lustes gaynsaye, 
 But lovely please and mekely them obaye. 
 
 The husbandes ever abydeth in travayle ; 
 
 One labour passed there cometh an other newe, 
 
 And every daye she begynneth a batayle. 
 
 And in complaynynge chaungeth chere and hewe. 
 
 Under suche falsnes she fayneth to be true ; 
 
 She maketh hym rude as is a dull asse. 
 
 Out of whose daunger impossyble is to passe. 
 
 Thus wedlocke is an endlesse penaunce, 
 
 Husbandes knowe that have experyence, 
 
 A martyrdom and a contynuaunce 
 
 In sorowe everlastynge, a deedly vyolence ; 
 
 And this of wyves is gladly the sentence 
 
 Upon theyr husbandes, whan they lyst to be bolde, 
 
 How they alone governeth the housholde.
 
 20 THE PAYNE AND SOROWE 
 
 And yf her husbande happen for to thryve, 
 She sayth it is her prudent purveyaunce : 
 If they go abacke ayenwarde and unthryve, 
 She sayth it is his raj'sgovernnunce. 
 He bereth the blame of all suche ordynaunce ; 
 And yf they be poore and fall in dystresse, 
 She sayth it is his foly and lewdnesse. 
 
 And yf so be he be no vverkman good. 
 
 It may well happe he shall have an home, 
 
 A large bone to stufie with his hood i 
 
 A mowe behynde, and fayned cheere beforne : 
 
 And yf it fall that theyr good be lorne 
 
 By aventure, eyther at even or morovve, 
 
 The sely husbande shall have all the sorowe. 
 
 An husbande hath greate cause to care 
 
 For wyfe, for chylde, for stufFe and meyne, 
 
 And yf ought lacke she wyll bothe swere and stare, 
 
 He is a wastour and shall never the : 
 
 And Salomon sayth there be thynges thre, 
 
 Shrewde wyves, rayne, and smokes blake 
 
 Make husbandes ofte theyr houses to forsake. 
 
 Wyves be beestes very unchaungeable 
 
 In theyr desyres, whiche may not staunched be, 
 
 Lyke a swalovve whiche is insacyable : 
 
 Peryllous caryage in the trouble see; 
 
 A wawe calme full of adversyte. 
 
 Whose blandysshynge endeth with myschaunce, 
 
 Called Cyrenes, ever full of varyaunce.
 
 OF EVYLL MARY AGE. 21 
 
 They them rejoyce to se and to be sene, 
 And for to seke sondrye pylgrymages, 
 At greate gaderynges to walke on the grene, 
 And on scafFoldes to sytte on hygh stages, 
 If they be fayre to shevve theyr vysages ; 
 And yf they be foule of loke or countenaunce, 
 They it amende with pleasynge dalyaunce. 
 
 And of profyte they take but lytell hede, 
 
 But loketh soure whan theyr husbandes ayleth ought; 
 
 And of good mete and drynke they wyll not fayle in dede. 
 
 What so ever it cost they care ryght nought ; 
 
 Nor they care not how dere it be bought, 
 
 Rather than they should therof lacke or mysse, 
 
 They wolde leever laye some pledge ywys. 
 
 It is trewe, I tell you yonge men everychone, 
 
 Women be varyable and love many wordes and stryfe: 
 
 Who can not appease them lyghtly or anone, 
 
 Shall have care and sorowe all his lyfe, 
 
 That woo the tyme that ever he toke a wyfe; 
 
 And wyll take thought, and often muse 
 
 How he myght fynde the maner his wyfe to refuse. 
 
 But that maner with trouth can not be founde, 
 
 Therfore be wyse or ye come in the snare, 
 
 Or er ye take the waye of that bounde; 
 
 For and ye come there your joye is tourned unto, care. 
 
 And remedy is there none, so may I fare, 
 
 But to take pacyens and thynke none other way aboute ; 
 
 Than shall ye dye a martyr without ony doute.
 
 22 THE PAYNE AND SOROWE OF EVYLL MARYAGE. 
 
 Therfore, you men that wedded be. 
 
 Do nothynge agaynst the pleasure of your vvyfe, 
 
 Than shall you lyve the more meryly, 
 
 And often cause her to lyve wlthouten stryfe; 
 
 Without thou art unhappy unto an evyll lyfe. 
 
 Than, yf she than wyll be no better, 
 
 Set her upon a lelande and bydde the devyll fet her. 
 
 Therfore thynke moche and saye nought, 
 
 And thanke God of his goodnesse, 
 
 And prece not for to knowe all her thought, 
 
 For than shalte thou not knowe, as I gesse, 
 
 Without it be of her own gentylnesse, 
 
 And that is as moche as a man may put in his eye, 
 
 For, yf she lyst, of thy wordes she careth not a flye. 
 
 And to conclude shortly upon reason, 
 
 To speke of wedlocke of fooles that be blente. 
 
 There is no greter grefe nor feller poyson, 
 
 Nor none so dredeful peryllous serpent, 
 
 As is a wyfe double of her entent. 
 
 Therfore let yonge men to eschew sorowe and care 
 
 Withdrawe theyr fete or they come in the snare. 
 
 Here endeth the payne and sorowe of evyll raaryage. 
 Imprynted at London in Fletestrete at the signe of the 
 Sonne, by me Wynkyn de Worde.
 
 C. RICHAHDS. FRINTKR, IdO, ST. MARTIN'S LANE, CHARING CROSS.
 
 THE KING 
 
 A POOR NORTHERN MAN 
 
 OR, 
 
 TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE. 
 
 dTrom ti)e dttiition of 1640. 
 
 ATTRIBUTED TO MARTIN PARKER. 
 
 LONDON : 
 REPRINTED FOR THE PERCY SOCIETY, 
 
 BY C. lUCHAUDS, ST. MARTIN'S LANE. 
 MDCCCXLI.
 
 COUNCIL 
 
 C6e ^errp ^orietp* 
 
 J. A. CAHUSAC, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 WILLIAM CHAPPELL, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 JOHN PAYNE COLLIER, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 T. CROFTON CROKER, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 REV. ALEXANDER DYCE. 
 
 RICHARD HALLIWELL, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL, Esq. F.R.S. Treasurer. 
 
 WILLIAM JERDAN, Esq. F.S.A. 
 
 SAMUEL LOVER, Esq. 
 
 CHARLES MACKAY, Esq. 
 
 E. F. RIMBAULT, Esa Secretary. 
 
 THOMAS WRIGHT, Esq. M.A. FS.A.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Although somewhat modernized in the following 
 copy, there is little doubt that the humorous 
 story of " The King and the poor Northern Man" 
 is much older than 1640. It reads in particular 
 places like a narrative of considerable antiquity ; 
 but when it was " printed by Tho. Cotes," whose 
 name appears at the bottom of the title-page of 
 the black-letter edition which we have employed, 
 it was intended that the reader should suppose 
 the tale a new one, and that it was the author- 
 ship of Martin Parker, the celebrated and popular 
 ballad-maker : his well-known initials are placed 
 quite at the end, after the word '■'■Finis" but 
 possibly he was not concerned in the imposition, 
 which might be concocted by Francis Grove, the 
 bookseller. No older edition is extant than that 
 we have reprinted, and as far as yet appears it is 
 the only remaining copy of it. We find it men- 
 tioned in no bibliographical work, nor have we 
 been able to trace it in any catalogue.
 
 VI 
 
 Besides the internal evidence, there is external 
 proof of the antiquity of the story, and even of 
 the title of the piece. In Henslowe's Diary, 
 under the date of 1601, we meet with two entries, 
 the first of which runs thus : 
 
 " Lent at the apoyntment of the company, and 
 ray Sonne, unto Hary Chettell, in earnest of a 
 playe called To good to be trewe or Northern 
 Man, the some of 5s : the 14 of novmbr. 1601." 
 
 The second is as follows : 
 
 " Pd. at the apoyntment of Robart Shawe, and 
 Thomas Towne, unto Mr. Hathwaye and Mr. 
 Smythe, in part of payment of a boocke called 
 To goode to be trewe, the 6 of Janewary 1601, 
 the some of 1^." 
 
 Hence we see that as early as 1601 a play had 
 been written by Henry Chettle, Richard Hathe- 
 waye and Wentworth Smith, called " Too good 
 to be true, or the Northern Man," though the 
 second title is omitted in Henslowe's latest entry. 
 This play was, no doubt, founded upon the popu- 
 larity of the subsequent story ; the incidents of 
 which are highly laughable, and would have af- 
 forded much scope to the rustic comicalities of 
 such actors as Pope, Singer, or Kempe. 
 
 That the story was known of old by the name 
 of " Too good to be true" we are not without 
 proof. The same incidents were employed in a
 
 vn 
 
 broadside in verse under the title of " The King 
 and Northern Man," printed " by W.O., and to be 
 sold by the Booksellers in Pye Corner and Lon- 
 don Bridge," a copy of which is in the British 
 Museum. The wording of the body of the ballad 
 does not differ very materially from our version 
 of 1640, but it varies at the beginning and end. 
 The writer professes in the outset to have bor- 
 rowed from a work already in print, for the broad- 
 side thus opens : 
 
 " To drive away the weary clay 
 
 A hook I chanc'd to take in hand, 
 And therein I read assuredly 
 
 A story, as you shall understand. 
 
 " Perusing many a history over, 
 
 Amongst the leaves I chanc'd to view 
 
 The books name, and the title is this, 
 The Second Lesson, ton f/ood to be true.''' 
 
 Thus we have both the titles of the play men- 
 tioned by Henslowe in his first memorandum. The 
 book which the writer of the broadside employed 
 must have been a now lost collection of popular 
 histories, divided into what were called " Lessons," 
 the " second lesson" being the tale of " The King 
 and a poor Northern Man," or " Too good to 
 be true." This was probably the same as the 
 story used by Chettle, Hathwaye, and Smith 
 for the foundation of their play, which story was
 
 VI 11 
 
 furbished up in 1640, and printed in a separate 
 duodecimo pamphlet. It is this pamphlet that 
 we have now accurately reprinted, with the omis- 
 sion only of some coarse and uncouth wood-cuts, 
 at the time intended to be attractive. 
 
 Many of our readers will be aware that the 
 same circumstance of a visit to the King by one 
 of his country tenants, though much abridged, 
 forms the subject of a comic song, which has kept 
 its place in various modern collections.
 
 THE KING AND 
 A POOEE NORTHERNE MAN. 
 
 SHEWING HOW A POORE NORTHUMBERLAND MAN, 
 
 A TENANT TO THE KING, BEING WRONGED BY 
 
 A LAWYER (his NEIGHBOUR), WENT TO 
 
 THE KING HIMSELF TO MAKE KNOWNE 
 
 HIS GRIEVANCES. FULL OF SIMPLE 
 
 MIRTH AND MERRY 
 
 PLAINE JESTS. 
 
 Printed at London by Tho. Cofe.% and are to be sold 
 
 by Francis Grove, dwelling upon Snow hill. 
 
 161-0.
 
 THE 
 
 KING AND A POORE NORTHERNE MAN. 
 
 Come hearken to me all around, 
 
 and I will tell you a merry tale 
 Of a Northumberland man that held some ground, 
 
 which was the Kings land in a dale. 
 
 He was borne and bred thereupon, 
 
 and his father had dwelt there long before, 
 
 Who kept a good house in that country, 
 and stav'd the wolfe from off his doore. 
 
 Now, for this farme the good old man 
 just twenty shillings a yeare did pay : 
 
 At length came cruell death with his dart, 
 and this old farmer he soone did slay : 
 
 Who left behinde him an aude wife then, 
 that troubled was with mickle paine. 
 
 And with her cruches she walkt about, 
 for she was likewise blinde and lame. 
 
 When that his corpes were laid in the grave 
 his eldest sonne possesse did the farme, 
 
 At the same rent as the father before : 
 
 he took great paines and thought no harme. 
 
 n 2
 
 4 THE KING AND 
 
 By him there dwelt a Lawyer false, 
 
 that with his farme was not content, 
 But over the poore man still hang'd his nose, 
 
 because he did gather the King's rent. 
 
 This farme layd by the Lawyer's land, 
 which this vild kerne had a mind unto : 
 
 The deele a good conscience had he in his bulke, 
 that sought this poore man for to undoe. 
 
 He told him he his lease had forfite, 
 
 and that he must there no longer abide : 
 
 The King by such lownes hath mickle wrong done, 
 and for you the world is broad and wide. 
 
 The poore man pray'd him for to cease, 
 
 and content himselfe, if he would be willing ; 
 
 And picke no vantage in my lease, 
 and I will give thee forty shilling. 
 
 Its neither forty shillings, no forty pound, 
 Ise warrant thee, so can agree thee and me, 
 
 Unlesse thou yeeld me thy farme so round, 
 and stand unto my curtesie. 
 
 The poore man said he might not do sa : 
 
 his wife and his bearnes will make him ill warke. 
 
 If thou wilt with my farme let me ga, 
 
 thou seemes a good fellow, Ise give thee five marke.
 
 A POORE NORTHERNE MAN. 
 
 The Lawyer would not be so content, 
 
 but further in the matter he means to smell. 
 
 The neighbours bad the poor man provide his rent, 
 and make a submission to the King him sell. 
 
 This poore man now was in a great stond, 
 
 his senses they were almost wood : 
 I thinke, if he had not tooke grace in 's mind 
 
 that he would never againe beene good. 
 
 His head was troubled in such a bad plight, 
 
 as though his eyes were apple gray ; 
 And if good learning he had not tooke 
 
 he wod a cast himselfe away. 
 
 A doughty heart he then did take, 
 and of his mother did blessing crave, 
 
 Taking farewell of his wife and bearnes ; 
 it earned his heart them thus to leave. 
 
 Thus parting with the teares in his eyne, 
 
 his bob-taild dog he out did call : 
 Thou salt gang with me to the King; 
 
 and so he tooke his leave of them all. 
 
 He had a humble staffe on his backe, 
 
 a jerkin, I vvat, that was of gray, 
 With a good blue bonnet, ho thought it no lacke ; 
 
 to the king he is ganging as fast as he may.
 
 6 THE KING AND 
 
 He had not gone a mile out o' th' toone, 
 but one of his neighbours he did espy : 
 
 How far ist to th' King ? for thither am I boone, 
 as fast as ever I can hye. 
 
 I am sorry for you, neighbour, he sayd, 
 
 for your simplicity I make mone : 
 Ise warrant you, you may ask for the King, 
 
 when nine or ten dayes journey you have gone. 
 
 Had I wist the King wond so farre 
 
 Ise neere a sought him a mile out o'th' toone: 
 Hes either a sought me, or wee'd neere a come nare ; 
 
 at home I had rather spent a crowne. 
 
 Thus past he alang many a weary mile, 
 
 in raine, and wet, and in foule mire, 
 That ere he came to lig in his bed ' 
 
 his dog and he full ill did tire. 
 
 Hard they did fare their charges to save, 
 
 but alas hungry stomackes outcrie for meate, 
 
 And many a sup of cold water they dranke, 
 when in the lang way they had nought to eate. 
 
 Full lile we know his hard griefe of mind, 
 
 and how he did long London to ken ; 
 And yet he thought he should finde it at last, 
 
 because he met so many men.
 
 A POORE NORTHERNE MAN, 
 
 At length the top of kirkes he spide, 
 and houses so thicke that he was agast : 
 
 I thinke, quoth he, their land is full deere, 
 for ther's nought that here lies wast. 
 
 But when he came into the citj"^ of London, 
 of every man for the King he did call. 
 
 They told him that him he neede not feare, 
 for the King he lies now at Whitehall. 
 
 For Whitehall he then made inquire, 
 but as he passed strange geere he saw : 
 
 The bulkes with such gue gawes were dressed, 
 that his mind a tone side it did draw. 
 
 Gud God, unto himselfe he did say, 
 what a deele a place I am come unto 1 
 
 Had a man, I thinke, a thonsne pounds in's purse, 
 himselfe he might quickly here undoe. 
 
 At night then a lodging him a got, 
 
 and for his supper he then did pay : 
 He told the host then heed goe lig in his bed, 
 
 who straight took a candle and shewd him the way. 
 
 Then with spying of farlies in the citie, 
 because he had never been there beforne, 
 
 He lee so long a bed the next day, 
 
 the Court was removM to Windsor that morne.
 
 8 THE KING AND 
 
 You ha laine too long then, then said his host, 
 you ha laine too long by a great while : 
 
 The king is now to Windsor gone ; 
 he's further to seeke by twenty mile. 
 
 I thinke I was corst, then said the poore man ; 
 
 if I had been wise I might ha consider. 
 Belike the King of me has gotten some weet : 
 
 he had neere gone away had not I come hither. 
 
 He fled not for you, said the hoste ; 
 
 but hie you to Windsor as fast as you may : 
 Be sure it will requite your cost, 
 
 for looke, what's past the king will pay. 
 
 But when he came at Windsor Castle, 
 with his bumble staff upon his backe, 
 
 Although the gates wide open stood 
 
 he layd on them till he made urn cracke. 
 
 Why, stay I pray friend, art mad ? quoth the Porter 
 what makes thee keepe this stirre to day ? 
 
 Why, I am a tenant of the Kings, 
 and have a message to him to say. 
 
 The King has men enough, said the Porter, 
 
 your message well that they can say. 
 Why, there's neere a knave the King doth keepe 
 
 shall ken my secret mind to day.
 
 A POORE NORTHERNE MAN. 
 
 I were told, ere I came from home, 
 
 ere I got hither it would be dear bought : 
 
 Let me in, Ise give thee a good single penny, 
 
 I see thou wilt ha small, ere thou't doe for nought. 
 
 Gramercy, said the Porter then ; 
 
 thy reward's so great I cannot say nay. 
 Yonder's a Nobleman within the court, 
 
 He first heare what he will say. 
 
 When the Porter came to the Nobleman, 
 he sayd he would shew him a pretty sport : 
 
 There's sike a clowne come to the gate, 
 
 as came not this seven yeares to the Court. 
 
 He cals all knaves the King doth keepe ; 
 
 he raps at the gates and makes great din ; 
 He's passing liberall of reward ; 
 
 heed give a good single penny to be let in. 
 
 Let him in, sayd the Nobleman. 
 
 Come in, fellow, the Porter gan say : 
 If thou come within thy selfe, he sayde, 
 
 thy staffe behind the gate must stay. 
 
 And this cuckolds curre must lig behind : 
 what a deele, what a cut hast got with thee I 
 
 The King will take him up for his owne sel, 
 Ise warrant, when as he him doth see.
 
 10 THE KING AND 
 
 Beshrew thy limbes, then said the poore man ; 
 
 then mayst thou count nie foole, or worse. 
 I wat not what banckrout lies by the King ; 
 
 for want of money he may picke my purse. 
 
 That's to be fear'd, the Porter said ; 
 
 Ise wish you goe in well arm'd ; 
 For the King he hath got mickle company, 
 
 and among them all, you may soone be harm'd. 
 
 Let him in with his staffe and his dog, said the Lord, 
 and with that he gave a nod with's head, and beck 
 with's knee. 
 
 If you be Sir King, then said the poore man, 
 as I can very well thinke you be; 
 
 For I was told ere I came from home, 
 
 you're the goodliest man ere I saw beforne ; 
 
 With so many jingle jangles about ones necke, 
 as is about yours, 1 never saw none, 
 
 I am not the King, said the Nobleman, 
 
 fellow, although I have a proud coat. 
 If you be not the King, helpe me to the speech of him, 
 
 you seeme a good fellow, Ise gi you a groat. 
 
 Gramercy, said the Nobleman ; 
 
 the rewards so great, I cannot say nay. 
 lie go know the Kings pleasure, if I can ; 
 
 till I come againe be sure thou stay.
 
 A POORE NORTHERNE MAN. 11 
 
 Heres sike a staying, then said the poore man ; 
 
 belike the Kings better than any in our countrey. 
 I might be gone to th' farthest nuke i'th' house, 
 
 neither lad nor lovvne to trouble me. 
 
 When the Nobleman came to the King, 
 
 he said he would shew his Grace good sport : 
 
 Heres such a clowne come to the gate, 
 
 as came not this seven yeares to the Court. 
 
 He cals all knaves your Highnesse keepes, 
 and more than that, he termes them worse. 
 
 Heele not come in without his stafFe and his dogge, 
 for fear some bankrout will picke his purse. 
 
 Let him in with his staffe and his dog, said our King, 
 
 that of his sport we may see some. 
 Weele see how heele handle everything, 
 
 as soone as the match of bowles is done. 
 
 The Nobleman led him through many a roome, 
 
 and through many a gallery gay. 
 What a deele doth the king with so many toome houses, 
 
 that he gets um not fild with corne and hay ? 
 
 What gares these babies and babies all ? 
 
 some ill have they done that they hang by the walls ? 
 And staring aloft at the golden roofe toppe, 
 
 at a step he did stumble, and downe he falles.
 
 12 THE KING AND 
 
 Stand up, good fellow, the Nobleman sayd ; 
 
 what, art thou drunke or blind, I trow ? 
 Ise neither am blinde nor drunke, he sed, 
 
 although, in my sowle, you oft are so. 
 
 It is a disease, said the Lord againe, 
 
 that many a good man is troubled withall. 
 
 Quoth the Country man then, yet I made your proud 
 stones 
 to kisse my backeside, though they gave me a fall. 
 
 At last they spide the King in an ally, 
 
 yet from his game he did not start. 
 The day was so hot, he cast off his doublet ; 
 
 he had nothing from the wast up but his shirt. 
 
 Loe, yonder's the King, said the Noble man : 
 
 behold, fellow ; loe, where he goes. 
 Beleevet hee's some unthrift, sayes the poore man, 
 
 that has lost his money and pawnd his cloathes. 
 
 How hapt he hath gat neere a coate to his backe ? 
 
 this bowling I like not; it hath him undone. 
 Ise warrant that fellow in those gay cloathes, 
 
 he hath his coyne and his doublet won. 
 
 But when he came before the King, 
 
 the Nobleman did his curtesie : 
 The poore man followed after him, 
 
 and gave a nod with his head and a becke with his knee.
 
 A POORE NORTHERNE MAN. 1 3 
 
 If you be Sir King, then said the poore man, 
 
 as I can hardly thinke you be ; 
 Here is a gude fellow tliat brought me hither, 
 
 is liker to be the King than ye. 
 
 I am the King, his Grace now sayd ; 
 
 Fellow, let me thy cause understand. 
 If you be Sir King, Ime a tennant of yours, 
 
 that was borne and up brought within your owne 
 lande. 
 
 There dwels a Lawyer hard by me, 
 
 and a fault in my lease he sayes he hath found ; 
 And all was for felling five poor ashes, 
 
 to build a house upon my owne ground. 
 
 Hast thou a lease here ? said the King, 
 
 or canst thou shew to me the deed ? 
 He put it into the Kings owne hand, 
 
 and said. Sir, tis here, if that you can read. 
 
 Why, what if I cannot ? said our King ; 
 
 that which I cannot, another may. 
 I have a boy of mine owne, not seven yeares old, 
 
 a will read you as swift as yould run i'th' highway. 
 
 Lets see thy lease, then said our King : 
 then from his blacke boxe he puld it out. 
 
 He gave it into the Kings owne hand, 
 
 with foure or five knots ty'd fast in a clout.
 
 14 THE KING AND 
 
 Wast neere unloose these knots ? said the King : 
 he gave it to one that behind him did stay. 
 
 It is a proud horse, then said the poore man, 
 
 will not carries owne provinder along the highway. 
 
 Pay me forty shillings, as Ise pay you, 
 I will not thinke much to unloose a knot : 
 
 I would I were so occupied every day. 
 Ide unloose a score on um for a groat. 
 
 When the King had gotten these letters to read, 
 
 and found the truth was very so : 
 I warrant thee, thou hast not forfeit thy lease, 
 
 if that thou hadst feld five ashes moe. 
 
 I, every one can warrant me, 
 
 but all your warrants are not worth a flea ; 
 For he that troubles me and will not let me goe, 
 
 neither cares for warrant of you nor me. 
 
 The Lawyer he is sike a crafty elfe : 
 
 a will make a foole of twenty such as me ; 
 
 And if that I said gang hang my sel, 
 Ise trow, he and I sud neere agree. 
 
 For he's too wise for all our towne, 
 
 and yet we ha got crafty knaves beside. 
 
 Heele undoe me and my wife and bearnes: 
 alas, that ever I saw this tide !
 
 A POORE NORTHERNE MAN. 15 
 
 Thoust have an injunction, said our King; 
 
 from troubling of thee he will cease : 
 Heele either shew thee a good cause why, 
 
 or else heele let thee live in peace. 
 
 What's that injunction ? said the poore man, 
 
 good Sir, to me I pray you say. 
 Why, it is a letter He cause to be written : 
 
 but art thou as simple as thou shewest for to day ? 
 
 Why, ift be a letter, Ime neere the better : 
 
 keep t to yourselfe and trouble not me. 
 I could a had a letter cheaper written at home, 
 
 and neere a come out of mine owne countrey. 
 
 Thoust have an attachment, said our King : 
 
 charge all thou seest to take thy part. 
 Till he pay thee an hundred pound, 
 
 be sure thou never let him start. 
 
 A, wais me 1 the poore man saide then ; 
 
 you ken no whit what you now do say. 
 A won undoe me a thousand times, 
 
 ere he such a mickle of money will pay. 
 
 And more than this, there's no man at all 
 that dares anongst him for to lift a hand ; 
 
 For he has got so much guile in his budget, 
 that he will make all forfeit their land.
 
 16 THE KING AND 
 
 If any seeme against thee to stand, 
 be sure thou corae hither straight way. 
 
 A, marry, is that all Ise get for my labour? 
 then I may come trotting every day. 
 
 Thou art hard a beleefe, then said our King : 
 to please him with letters he was right willing. 
 
 I see you have taken great paines in writing, 
 with all my heart He give you a shilling. 
 
 He have none of thy shilling, said our King ; 
 
 man, with thy money God give thee win. 
 He threw it into the Kings bosome ; 
 
 the money lay cold next to his skin. 
 
 Beshrew thy heart, then said our King ; 
 
 thou art a carle something too bold : 
 Dost thou not see I am hot with bowling ? 
 
 the money next to my skin lies cold. 
 
 I neere wist that before, said the poore man, 
 
 before sike time as I came hither. 
 If the Lawyers in our country thought twas cold, 
 
 they would not heape up so much together. 
 
 The King call'd up his Treasurer, 
 
 and bad him fetch him twenty pound. 
 
 If ever thy errant lye here away, 
 He beare thy charges up and downe.
 
 A POORE NORTHERNE MAN. 17 
 
 When the poore man saw the gold tendred, 
 
 for to receive it he was willing. 
 If I had thought the King had so mickle gold, 
 
 beshrew my heart, Ide a kept my shilling. 
 
 Now, farewell, good fellow, quoth the King : 
 see that my command you well doe keepe ; 
 
 And when that the Lawyer you have in your hands, 
 looke that he doe pay you before he doe sleepe. 
 
 Gods benison light on your soule, then he sayd, 
 and send you and yours where ever you gang : 
 
 If that I doe ever meete with your fewd foes, 
 
 Ise sweare by this staffe that their hide I won bang. 
 
 And farewell, brave lads now, unto you all : 
 I wod all may win and neane of you leese. 
 
 Haude ; take this same tester among you awe : 
 I ken that you Courtiers doe all looke for fees. 
 
 Thus with a low courtsie of them he tooke leave, 
 thinking from the Court to take his way ; 
 
 But some of the gentlemen then of the Kings 
 would needs invite him at dinner to stay. 
 
 A little entreaty did soone serve his turne : 
 a thought himsel as good a man as them all. 
 
 But where (quoth he) sail I have this same feast? 
 then straightway they ushered him into the hall. 
 
 c
 
 18 THE KING AND 
 
 Such store ofr eheare on the board there was plast, 
 that made the countryman much for to muse. 
 
 Quoth he, I doe think you are all craftie knaves, 
 that such a service you will not refuse. 
 
 I nere saw such a flipper de flapper before ; 
 
 here's keele I doe think is made of a whetstone. 
 Heer's dousets and flappjacks, and I ken not what ; 
 
 I thinke, in the worlde such feasts there is none. 
 
 When he had well din'd and had filled his pancb, 
 then to the winecellar they had him straight way, 
 
 Where they with brave claret and bi'ave old Canary, 
 they with a foxe tale him soundly did pay. 
 
 So hard they did ply him with these strong wines, 
 that he did wrong the long seames of his hose. 
 
 That two men were faine to leade him up stayres ; 
 so, making indentures, away then he goes. 
 
 The poore man got home next Sunday : 
 
 the Lawyer soone did him espy. 
 Oh, Sir, you have been a stranger long, 
 
 I thinke from me you have kept you by. 
 
 It was for you indeed, said the poore man, 
 the matter to the King as I have tell. 
 
 I did as neighbours put it in my head, 
 
 and made a submission to the King my sel.
 
 A POORE NORTHERNE MAN. 19 
 
 Whatadeel didst thou with the King ? said the Lawyer: 
 could not neighbours and friends agree thee and me ? 
 
 The deel a neighbour or friend that I had, 
 that would a bin sike a dales man as he. 
 
 He has gin me a letter, but I know not what they cal't ; 
 
 but if the King's words be frue to me, 
 When you have read and perused it over, 
 
 I hope you will leave, and let me be. 
 
 He has gin me another, but I know not what 'tis ; 
 
 but I charge you all to hold him fast. 
 Pray you that are learned this letter reade ; 
 
 which presently made them all agast. 
 
 Then they did reade this letter plaine, 
 
 the Lawyer must pay him a hundred pound. 
 
 You see the King's letter, the poore man did say, 
 and unto a post he sal straight way be bound. 
 
 Then unto a post they tide him fast, 
 and all men did rate him in cruell sort ; 
 
 The lads, and the lasses, and all the tovvne 
 at him had great glee, pastime and sport. 
 
 He pay it, He pay it, the Lawyer said : 
 
 the attachment, I say, it is good and faire ; 
 
 You must needes something credit me, 
 till I goe home and fetch some meare.
 
 20 THE KING, ETC. 
 
 Credit ! nay, thats it the King forbad: 
 he bad, if I got thee, 1 should thee stay. 
 
 The Lawyer payd him an hundred pound 
 in ready money, ere he went away. 
 
 Would every Lawyer were served thus I 
 
 from troubling poore men they would cease : 
 
 They'd either show them a good cause wh}-, 
 or else they'd let them live in peace. 
 
 And thus I end my merry tale, 
 
 which shewes the plain mans siniplenesse, 
 And the Kings great mercy in righting his wrongs, 
 
 and the Lawyers fraud and wickednesse. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 M. P. 
 
 C. RICHARDS, PRINTER, ST. MARTIN'S I.AXE.
 
 ,, SOUTHERN RErfnL°/ ^^^'fomia 
 
 305 De Neve Drive "p.^.?'- '-'^«ARY FAC/LITV
 
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