A late Weary, Merry Voyage, &c.
TIme was, this Land was sick of Peace & Wealth,
And War, and Poverty must give her Health:
Grave Reformation, Physick did apply,
And Mars himselfe us'd much Phlebotomy;
I will not say our Land was full of Witches
To charm us to contemn our Peace and Riches;
But my beliefe is fix'd, my thoughts are pich'd;
One halfe were Witches, th' other halfe bewitch'd.
Stern War hath let us bloodith' Master vaine,
And many a pursie purse did purge and draine.
Thus Plenty made us proud, and War doth show
How good Peace was, and how our selves to know.
Affliction is the Line, the Hooke the Net
To catch us from the World, they new beget
Our soules to Heav'n, and by a gratious Birth
Lifts up our mindes to slight this sordid Earth.
[Page 8]And I doe wish all Sects, strifes, contradictions,
Would make such use of England's sad afflictions.
And now a short discourse of travelling
Of Travellers, and of my wandering:
The Sun's a Traveller (and a great one too)
In twice twelve houres, he round the World doth goe;
The Moone surrounds us in her changing spheare,
Three hundred sixty and five times a yeare.
But yet the thoughts of man more quick doth run
Then flashing lightning, or the Moone or Sun.
My restlesse thoughts can in a moment leape
To Heaven, and thence to the infernall deepe.
To Europe, Asia, and America,
To the orient Indies, to hot Africa;
The Summer, Autumne, Winter, and the Spring
Are in perpetuall motion, travelling.
And though my thoughts (like other men's are vaine,
Winds, Seas, nor Stormes, my thinking can restraine.
At Travellers, let no man carpe or cavill,
Our Mothers (at our births) were all in travell.
And from our birth unto our buriall,
In divers Functions we do travell All.
The Footman's feet, the Statesman's working braine,
In travell, labour, and continuall paine
[Page 9]Do spend themselves, and all their courses bend
For private ends (to no end) till they end.
The Lawyer travells, his tongue (swift with sleight)
Sells his words deare, by measure, tale, and weight:
And those that buy them deare, do often find
They paid well for good words, but words are winde.
All men are born to travell, each man must
With paine and travell, turn unto his dust:
Then happy is the man that can go right,
Who doth his paths with Davids Lanthorne light.
And all my life time it hath been my fate
To be a traveller legitimate:
From head to heele, by either Land or Sea
I am a Traveller, Right Cape a Pe [...].
Now Clothoe, my poor vitall thread hath spunne,
And Lachesis, her r [...]eling work's near done:
Now Atropos is ready with her Knife
To cut the uncertaine feeble twist of life;
Now in my Autumne, or my fall o'th leafe
Halfe dead, halfe living, halfe blinde, lame, halfe deafe,
Now all these five halves can not make one whole
(From m' head unto my body bearing sole)
Now at this time, with brains, and feet, and pen,
I am an old new Traveller agen.
'Tis not the greatnes of Golias can
Perswade me to be lesser then a man:
[Page 10]She's cal'd a ship, whose burthen's but foure score,
And one thats fifteen hundred is no more.
Though Folio be our learned Vollums, yet
Decimo sexto, may expresse some wit.
A generous minde respects the poor man's Mite,
'Tis said, a Larke is better then a Kite.
Nor would I have the Reader to mistake,
That odious bold comparisons I make:
Pamphlets must not compare with Reverend Writings
Of Theologues, or Historians grave enditings.
The Owle must not as high as th' Eagle flee,
Yet Owles are Fowles, as well as Eagles bee.
So I, that am poor, weak, Aquatticus,
A Traveller, and Poet Minnimus,
The honour, wholly, humbly I ascribe
T' the Worthies of most sacred Levies Tribe,
And the learn'd servants of the triple Trine,
Whose verses make mortallity divine:
Your genius high Illuminations are
Transcending mine, as Titan doth a Starre;
Yet your refulgence doth not blinde me so,
But that my silly Glowormes light doth glow.
I scribble, and I walke, I walke and scribble,
I give and take Jests, Bull, and clinch, and quibble.
Amongst good Poets I have plaid at Crambo,
And I have found mens words and deedes not Ambo.
[Page 11]The last yeare (sixteen hundred forty nine)
I went to Cornewall, and some foes of mine
Did certifie a Lye, malitiously,
That I was subtle, and a dangerous spye;
And did with travell, and a faign'd pretence
With th' Enemy have some Intelligence.
For which three dayes in prison I was closed,
With sleepe reposed, and my minde composed:
I knew my conscience clear, and well disposed,
By Truths my accusations were opposed,
And I (not found the man I was supposed)
Without a Fee or Fine, on me imposed,
And unto misery and want exposed
(Not guilty found) from Prison I was losed.
But if I had a thought, or bad intent
When I from London, into Cornwall went,
Against the Army, State, or Parliament,
Let torments both my soule and corps torment.
No man can blame me much that I have grumbled,
That I, for no cause was thus to tos'd and tumbled;
And that I never could m' Accuser see,
My Books and Bills took, and detain'd from me:
The Books declar'd my Journy too and fro,
The Bills, were names of men, and where to go
To finde the men, to pay me for my pain,
My losse of those, made all my labour vain;
[Page 12]And for that losse, I once more try my friends,
Hope tells me, Time will make me some amends.
False Fortunes frownes, makes me not fear or shrink,
And evill fall on him that ill doth think.
My Muse shall now sing, though she be no Singer,
For (Reader with thee) I'le no longer linger:
My brain Enthusiastick holds it meet
To make the feet of Verse, tell how my feet
Did travell gauling gravell, and surbated,
Sometimes by day, sometimes by night belated.
To write my acts my selfe, as 'tis most fit,
Caesar himselfe his Commentaries writ:
And solid Johnson made his Muse his Cock
To crow his savoury Voyage up Fleet Dock:
So I do hold it worthy imitation,
To follow them, and write mine own Relation.
The fourteenth day of August, London, London
I left, O what hath many a mothers
* son don?
What hath the mad and furious sword and gun don?
But kill'd some, made some rich, and some are undon.
That I may say of London, what a Town ist,
There lives the Seeker, Dipper, and the Brownist:
There's roome for Ranters, and alas how apt ist
To harbour the ungovern'd Annabaptist?
[Page 13]Th'ast plaid thy Game home, like a cunning Gamester,
Thou more Religions hast, then hath dam'd Amster.
I downe the Thames the day aforesaid went,
(On one side Essex, on the other Kent)
Untill at last, to Gravesend I was borne,
And lodg'd in Milton, at the plenteous Horne.
That Horne, was Cornucopia unto mee
Two dayes meat, drinke, and lodging,
* quarter free.
From thence unto a private house I went,
And there (with small charge, and much discontent)
Foure dayes I stayd, and every tide did watch
To have some Ship, or Hoigh, Boat, Barke, or Katch,
To carry me to Norfolk or some place
Where I might foot it, and jog on my Race.
In all this time I never wanted drinke,
And for their drinke, I give 'em thanks in Inke:
No otherwayes my thanks I can expresse,
But verbally, and with the Pen and Presse.
The twentieth day of August, Kent and I
Tooke leave, and to the Fort of Tilberry
I past, and ere I there an houre had bin,
A lucky ship of Ipswich tooke me in.
She quickly spread abroad her canvas wings,
The whistling winde in shrowdes and taklin sings:
[Page 14]That next day following, near the houre eleaven
We came t'an Anchor safe in Harwich Haven:
My thanks unto the Master I must utter,
He's owner of the ship, his sirname's Butter:
His ship and selfe both nam'd the Jonathan,
And I have seldome found a kinder man.
My fare was as he far'd, and well he far'd,
And (in his Cabbin) I my lodging shar'd;
For which he would not take one mite of mee,
Thus was my Passage, Meat, and Lodging free
For which I would requite him, if I could,
And till I can, let him take what I would.
From Harwich Harbour, with the winde and tide,
In a small Boat, we up to Ipswich slide:
At the White Horse, I there was entertain'd
So well (for nothing) that they nothing gain'd.
For which among my worthy friends I ranke them,
Kind Master Atkins, and his Wife, I thanke them.
Ipswich, is the chiefe Towne of the County of Suffolke, it hath twelve Parish Churches in it: There hath been more in former times, it may bee called a City for the large bounds and extent of it: It is from the North to the South a large mile in breadth, and from East to West it is two miles [Page 15] in length: our famous infortunate Cardinall, Thomas Wolsey was borne there, where hee had caused to bee layd the foundation of a Magnificent stately Colledge, the ruines whereof are now scarce to be found; but in memory of his birth and birth place, there hee built a large and strong Shambles (for Butchers to sell, and others to buy flesh) the like of it is not in England; the Towne hath been walled strongly, but spoyled and demollished by the Danes nor was (nor is like to bee) [...]ever repaired; it is governed by two Bayliffes, and ten Portmen, who doe weare Scarlet Gownes when occasion is, their Common Counsell (being many) are very substantiall men, read more in Mr. Cambden or Mr. Speed.
August the two and twentieth, thence went I
Eight miles to Stanhum, and lodg'd at the Pye.
The next day, was an extream rainy Friday,
Wet (through my cloaths) unto my skin, or hyde, a
Tedious and weary Journy twenty miles,
Bedabbled, dirty, clambring many stiles,
I came at night unto a Town call'd Newton,
And there I had a dry house, and wet sute on.
On Saturday (the day call'd Bartholmew)
I rose, and trampled through the mire and dew;
[Page 16]My tyred feet the rotten highway beat on
Unto a Village, or a Bridge call'd Eaton:
There at the Lyon, (red as any Stammell)
Is harbour good, for man, or Horse, or Cammell:
There dwels my cousin Wil Hart, and's good wife Bridgid
By them two nights, I was well fed and lidged.
I stayd with them the Saturday and Sunday,
And he with me to Norwich went on Munday:
There did my Cousin Hart, prove more kind hearted,
And there we merry were, s [...]ooke hands and parted.
One Master Edward Martin there doth dwell,
Who both divine Bookes, and prophane, doth sell:
We (till that time) ne're saw each others face,
Yet there he freely kept me three dayes space;
From Monday untill Thursday morning there
He thought no cost too heavy, or too deere:
He brought me out of Town: a mile at least,
And there I freed him from a troublous Guest.
Norwich, is a famous ancient City, built many yeares before the Norman Conquest; it had a strong Castle in it double ditched, out of the ruins or corruption of the Castle, a Jayle (or Goale) was engendred, to which use it is now put: It was spoyled by Hugh Bigot Earl of Norfolk, in the raign of K, Henry the second, and a greater mischief befell the [Page 17] City in King Henry the thirds time, for the Citizens (in a tumultuous fury) spoyled it with fire, and withal burnt the goodly Priory Church, which afterwards they were caused to rebuild in a fairer manner. Lastly, Norwich was won and fired by Ket and his Army of Rebels, since when it hath been well repaired, and in a flourishing condition; the wals of the City are of more circuit or bounds then the wals of London: But it is to be considered, there are Pasture Grounds, Gardens, and waste Lands (not built upon) more then half the ground within the walls; it hath 12. gates to issue in and out 12. severall wayes, whereby it may be conceived that it is large in circuit, (for London hath not fo many) there are 30. faire Parish Churches, there were five more, but they are ruined besore these present troubles; the goodly Cathedrall is much defaced in these late times of Reformation. It was governed by 2 Bayliffs, till King Edward the fourth impowred them to chuse a Mayor, and gave Priviledges to them, and Charters of honorable and memorable regard: The Low Dutch (or Netherland Nation) being frighted from their Country by the cruelty of the Duke D' Alva, who was Livetenant Governour there under the King of Spaine, (who for his Tyranny the people called Duke Diabota) they fled in multitudes into England, and thousands [Page 18] of them came to Norwich, where they have so thrived, and withall much inriched the City, that it is thought there are 10000. Weavers, Spinners, and other Artificers, dayly imployed for the making of sundry sorts of Sayes, with other Stuffs innumerable, either for wearing or ornaments; to adorne houses with Hangings, Carpets, or Curtaines, of innumerable sorts, colours, varieties, and more hard names then any Apothecary hath upon his Boxes or Gallypots, and so much for Norwich, with my further thanks to Mr. Edward Martin, with Mr. Richard Thacker, Mr. Vowte, Cum multis aliis, Omnium Gathrum, All ta Mall.
The County of Norfolk hath in some parts found a strange alteration, since the last yeare, 1649. in the price of Hay, for it is fallen from 4s. 4d. the hundred weight, to one groat the hundred; this I thought worthy of relating to shew the fertility of the Soyle, by the Almighties blessings.
Angust the nine and twentieth I went forth
From Norwich City ten miles further North,
To Worsted, well Wet, with a heavenly shower,
Mine Hostesse entertain'd me, to her power;
Although the weather frown'd, she did not lower,
Her lookes were sweet, but yet her Ale was sower.
My lodging good, my reck'ning was not deare,
For ten pence, Supper, Bed, and Breakfast there.
[Page 19]I arose as soone as day began to show,
And (two miles thence) did unto Honing go;
There, to the Minister I welcome was,
And merrily one day and night did pass:
And there we made a shift that Fryday night
To eate a well fed, fat Tith Pig outright.
Next day I Honing left, and did begin
To crosse the North of Norfolk, towards Lyn:
That day I chanc'd a gallant house to finde
A Master bountifull, and servants kinde:
I need not tell my Reader where, or who,
The name of Oxnet, all doth plainly show.
Sir William Paston: there I found and spake with the Apelles of our Age, Mr. Edward Peirce Painter, and Mr. John Stone was there, whose rare Arts are most exquisitly manifested both in painting, limming, and cunning carved Statues in stone.
That Saturday I went t'a Towne call'd Reepham,
And as amongst great sinners, I the chiefe am:
I grieve to see the Churches there demollish'd,
Sects plenty, and true Piety abollish'd.
This Town of Repham (or Reepham) hath three faire Churches, were standing in one Church-yard, it is sayd they were built by three Sisters; one of them hath beene long decayed and fallen to the ground, onely the Tower stands faire and strong; the other two Churches do serve four Parishes, [Page 20] and I could hear no more but three Bels on Sunday there: So that the reckoning is one Church-yard, three Bels, two Chreches, three Steeples, foure Parishes, and one broken Church for Lumber.
The second of September (being Monday) I left Reepham, and travelled 18. miles to a Village called Gayton; but by the way (at a place called Brissley) I was told of a Holy Sister, who by falling back, had risen forward, to the increase of the faithfull: she being reproved falling and rising, sayd it was pure zeale that pricked her on, and that it was done with a Brother, he and she, and every one being bound to do for, and with one another, and I hearing of her kindnesse bestowed this short Epigram on her.
Hath Lust defil'd her purenesse, never match'd?
No 'twas deceit, she hath been cunny-catch'd:
It was a rule, she learned of her Mother,
That 'twas no sin to couple with a Brother.
But to return again where I left: at Gayton there are 2 playn Ale-houses, and one Wine Ale-house; these houses were distant one from the other a furlong, or two flight shoot: at the first house (where the Wine was) there were fellows swaggering, and ready to draw their fists, there I would not lodge; at the second I would have lodged, but could not, their beds were all taken up; at the third the doors [Page 21] were lock'd & the windows shut, no body at home, the folkes not come home from Harvest worke; forward I knew not whether, and backward I would not goe, and to stand still there was cold comfort for an old weary Traveller, there being no harbour, but a wild Common, nor any company to passe the time withall but 3 or 4 flocks of Geese; in this extremity I espy'd an old-old, very old, neat handed little antient man, to him I went, and told him that I would have lodged at that house, but it was shut up; quoth he the folkes will come home by and by, but I doe not know whether they have any lodging or no, and sure me think you be a clean man, and tis pitty you should lye on the Common, if you will goe home and lye with me, I am an old Widdower, and one bed shall hold us both.
I thankfully embraced his courteous offer, and went with him, where I sup'd and log'd well, and would take nothing of me; his name is Sampson Warrington, in remembrance of whose kindnes I have written this thankfull expession.
I was told there of a precise holy mā in those parts, who sent his man unto a Pasture ground to see his horse, the fellow went, and brought word to his Master that his horse was Dead, dead quoth hee, how dar'st thou tell me my horse is dead? the fellow answered, I pray you be not angry, sure I am [Page 22] that if he be not dead, that he is either deceased, or changed his life; well sayd the Master, if my horse be departed, I have lost a good one, for he was so sure of his feet, that I would have put my life into his hands.
Tuesday September 3. I went 4 miles to a Village called North-Wooton, 3 miles from Linn, there I was much beholding to my Kinsman Mr. John Clark, he gave me large and free welcome, for which to him with his good Wife, my gratitude is manifested; also my thankes to Mr. Swift.
Wednesday I went to Linn, where a good old Joviall Lad named John Scarborow entertained mee sumptuously (for my Cozen John Clarks sake) and also he was somewhat the kinder to me, because he had often heard of me, besides of his own dispo [...]ition is free from discourtesie to strangers, I thank him for my fresh fish, my Duck, or Mallard, my lodging, Ale, and Oysters, with the appurtenances. &c.
Linn was much honoured by King John for their Loyalty, for which that King gave them his owne word, and a faire gilt Bole, which they keep as honorable memorialls to this day: it is a faire large stronge Sea Towne, it is now a Garison, the River hat the Sea doth flow thereinto, disperseth it self into many Branches, for the commodious enriching [Page 23] of divers Shires, Counties, Townes, and Places, as Rutlandshire, Huntingdonshire, Cambridge, and Cambridgeshire, the Isle of Ely, &c. those Rivers doe carry and re-carry all maner of goods and Merchandise, so that Linn with all those Countreys are furnished with more Sea-coales then doe come up the River of Thames, wood being so scarce that the Rich might blow their nailes, and the poore would bee starved in the Winter for want of fiting in all those Counties, if the Rivers were not.
. . .Thursday the 5. of September I left Linn, and tooke an open passage Boat, being bedewed all day and night, and almost all the Fryday with raine without ceasing, so that, on Fryday I came to Cambridge sufficiently pickled: there I tooke up my lodging at the signe of the Rose (one of the best Innes) where I thank Mr. Brian and his Wife (my old acquaintance) I had good cheere and lodging gratis and welcome; I tooke notice of the Colledges, they stand as fair and stately as ever, and (for any thing that I know) there may be as much learning as ever was, but I saw but few Schollars or Gowne men.
On Saturday the 7. of September, I was determined to see Sturbridge Faire, but by fortune I espyed an empty Cart returning towards London 17 miles to a Towne call'd Baldock; by which means I left [Page 24] Cambridge without taking my leave of Mr. Brian, for which I crave his and his Wive's pardon.
That day I was uncarted at Baldock, and footed it 7 miles more to Steevenedge, there (at the Faulcon) I stayd Saturday and Sunday, and on Monday I travelled to Hatfield, and to Barnet 17 miles, wher I was discreetly wet and dirty, and took up my lodging at the Bell with a silent Clapper. The next day (being Tuesday) I came home to my house wet and weary in Phoenix Alley, at the signe of the Crowne, near the Globe Taverne, about the middle of Long-Acre or Covent Garden.
Thus having touch'd no State, or State Affaires,
Or mentioned men that sit in Honours Chaires:
I dare declare him of a base condition,
That of my Lines or Travels hath suspition.
I formerly have falsely been accus'd,
And therefore now I hope to be excus'd.
This time I travell'd (for my life's preserving)
To get some money, to prevent a starving:
And every one that for my Booke doth pay me,
Doth love me, lodge me, feed me, and aray me.
With feet and pen, my walke and worke is done,
And (Caesar like) the Conquest I have won:
And though I never shall have Caesars Fame,
Tet I did see, I came, and overcame.
FINIS.