A true RELATION OF A great Robbery committed neere Andiver in Hampshire, UPON JOHN LLOYD, AND DAVID GWYN, The one of Northwales, the other of Southwales, comming up to LONDON.
And how the Brittaines bravely encountered with twelve Thieves; killed six in the place, and wounded the rest: yet at last were Mastered, and robbed by the said Thieves.
VVith divers strange Passages▪ and events concerning the same; which (being truly worth observation) were thought fit to put to publike view for satisfaction of all their Countrey-men, friends, and acquaintance; and all others that desire to be truly informed touching the same.
Cantabit vacuus coram latrone viator.
LONDON, Printed for G. F. neere York-house. 1648.
To the Courteous Reader.
Courteous Reader,
A Thing may happen in a moment, which perhaps will not fall out againe, in seven yeeres; Though (I must confesse) I am a stranger to the persons who are the subjects of the ensuing lines, and to their Countrey, yet at the importunate sollicitation, and information of many of my friends and Comrades of those parts, I undertooke to publish what my weake Muse could performe herein; being ravished with the thought of the conceited subject, which merited a better vaine then mine to give it a true varnish. Whatever you finde dropt from my rude Language, [Page] excuse the weaknesse of my fancy, being more to please others that would have it so, then my owne Genius; and perhaps may adde a smile to thy countenance. I say no more, but Quod spero & placeo, (si placeo) tuum est. And so am gone.
Democritus junior.
In praise of my deare Friend, the Author hereof.
My Friend,
THy Worke I have perus'd, in which I finde
Matter most admirable to my minde.
It is as Musicall as Davids Lyre.
Thy Muse I doe adore, thy Muse admire.
The Times restore thee thanks, for why?
Here's matter to digest a Christmas Pie;
Sufficient, and able to reimburse,
What Jack or Taffie suffer'd by their Purse.
I. Ho.
A True Relation of the Robbing of two gallant WELCH-MEN.
THe remnant of the Brittish worth of old,
Is by their * Bards to future ages told;
W [...]lsh-P [...]ets.
And that their Valour did out-blaze their same,
None else but they deserv'd the Martiall Name.
Ev'n to this present time left as a Story,
To sing their worth, their praise and glory.
Muses stood mute-wise in admiration,
At the deportment of that Nation;
Admire we must, nor can we doe no more,
The like was never heard, since or before.
OWEN great *TEWDYR, Prince of the Northern Pole,
Prince of North-Wales.
Vertue and Valour left he for his Dole.
Prince *BRYCHAN swayd the Southern parts
Rare in his worth, and skilfull in all Arts.
Prince of Brecknockshire.
These Gallant Prowesse Princes of that soyle,
Endlesse hatred alwaies got the broyle
Betwixt them, and the strife and jarre,
While liv'd, begot a constant warre.
The sequel leads my Muse to speak the praise,
Of other two brave Gallants; I want but Bayes
[Page 2]To crown their Worth and Vertue store,
An Embleme, visible for evermore.
They both descended from the Royall Blood
Of those Heroick Princes that then stood
So long, so gallant and so stout;
Admird they were in all the World about.
Red
The North-Wales man, and a crafty F [...]x.
Iack the one by name of Tewdyrs race,Feirce in his wrath, and fearfull in his face,
He dar'd, and durst with any one encounter;
For him to run away, it were a wonder!
Th' others descent from Brichan, far Nobler Blood
Then any of the Tewdyrs, or the Flood,
His Name as big as 'looks are grym,
Monstrum horrendum
A South-Wales man, who never was in London; he heard often of it, and thought it was no City, but a Monster upon earth.
DAVID GWYN.Upon a gloomy day not long since past
Marching for London without his Breakfast,
Mounted above reason with Pistols, Sword and all,
But in their way they had a rotten fall.
Resolv'd they were for London, there to try
Their skil and Art with gallant Chivalry.
The Gwyn to Court brave Ladies to his minde,
A lasse poore Taffie left his Purse behinde.
The blustring Flood, wel trayn'd in Cupids Schoole,
Thought to make Taffie prove an arrant foole,
Gave precepts to the youth for to imbrace
The Ladies favours, and obtaine their grace,
By learning first to cringe, and next to swive,
So soon as they at London should arive.
But in the Rode these two Bilbonians met
Twelve gallant Sparks, who bravely them beset:
Tewdyr looks back, and spies their glittering Swords,
The Blades carvetting with big Oathes and words.
Neere Andiver in Hampshire, prov'd the day
Dismal to none but to Iohn Flood and I.
Quoth Noble Taffie, resolv'd I am to die,
If nothing else afford me remedy.
I look'd me back, and spy'd my Blades behind;
Judge what a terrour then struck in my minde!
Spur up thy horse, our lives are neere an end.
Horse, Horse, away, and let's us no longer stay,
For they doe vow and sweare they wil us stay,
And rob us, which is worse then death;
With this they ranne till they were out of breath.
Old Iack being better mounted, spur'd away,
Left Taffie and his * Goate to goe astray.
The young mans horse not much bigger then a Welsh Goate.
And wanting ayde, was then compel'd to cry
Helpe Plowmen now (I pray) or else I die.
The heartlesse Clowns would not afford their ayde
To this poore Brittaine, sorely now affrayd:
And, wanting helpe, among the Thieves he fell;
O what a dolfull story it is to tell!
He groan'd and said, (Brave hearts) O give me breath,
Delight not in an ancient Brittaines death.
All that I have is yours, so that you be
Preservers of my life and liberty.
Quoth they, true Brittaine, rouse, rouse up thy heart,
Thinke not wee'l ayme to act a wicked part;
'Tis not thy life nor blood wil us content,
Yeeld up thy purse, for that's our chiefest bent.
To this reply'd poore Taffie, in a faint straine,
Here is the store which doth with me remaine;
Content I am to part, so you wil spare
My life that's deare and then I doe not care.
Farewel the Purse with eight odde pounds in money,
For want of which, Ile cease to court or coney.
And after they bereav'd this youth of all,
They spur'd and cry'd, and gave to Iohn a call.
Iohn with his gallant Polimero steere,
Scorn'd to turne backe, but did them flout and jeere,
Swore a big Oath that he would never yeeld,
Resolv'd he was to die within the field;
So long my horse, or selfe, can act it out,
Let me alone, Ile put the Rogues to rout.
Forth came his Sword, his Pistol charg'd, let flie,
Routed the Rebels wing that Northward lie.
[Page 4]In this same gallant action being two houres space,
Encountered with these Cutters face to face.
At last his horse grew weak, his spirit fayle,
Such gallant soule who would not much bewaile?
Helpe, helpe (quoth he) to Taffie, villaine come,
Behold my case, I am fore're undone;
Make Hue and cry, call for the Plowmens ayde,
See now the Rogues begin to be dismay'd.
No helpe for Iohn, who there along was left
Amongst the Rascall Thieves that him bereaft
Not onely of his Cash but sences to,
Drew down the high looks of his lofty brow;
And (as himselfe relates) his horse did tire,
This name he hath from Twedyr the Prince of Northwales, being he is from thence himselfe.
Tumbl'd poore * Twedyr up to the eares in mire.
When valiant Iohn could them resist no more
He yeelded up his Purse and all his store,
His Horse, his Cloke, his Saddle, nay lost all!
How now old Fox, could you not chuse to fall?
Crafty and cunning was this * Fox of old,
He parted with his money, not his Gold;
A Fox in respect of his subtilty, being a notable crafty man in all his dealings.
Taffie lost all, the Gold he did conceale,
What foole was Taffie he did it not reveale?
With fainting hearts in this unhappy plight,
Up to the Hill they went, and there did light,
Condoling their mischance, and curst the day
That ever brought them to that cursed way.
In this same sad condition both did strive
To uphold their sinking spirits and alive
Each other to preserve, with sweet and balsome tales,
Like conquered Taffies newly come from Wales;
Till this Metropolis they both should enter,
And by some other Nobler way to venter
Their fortune lost, and valour to regaine.
Assistance of friends they knew it was in vaine
To crave; to beg they were asham'd;
To fall to rob, could they be justly blam'd?
Supported with vaine hopes, at last they came
To this brave Town to play their latter game.
[Page]In this same conflict, both of them fell out,
Which prov'd most coward, which most stout.
Tewdyr began to sweare and brag, that he
Did then behave himselfe most gallantly;
Kil'd six and more with his great Trojan hand,
If Taffie durst (not fight) but onely stand.
Cursed be the wombe which brought forth such an Asse,
That brought us both to such a sorry passe.
Ye sonnes of Mars trust not a heartlesse Gay,
Instead of fight he wil but runne away.
Hold there my friend (quoth Noble Taffie)
I cannot thinke on this, but I must laugh;
You fight, you shite, what ayl'd your pocky nose,
You ranne away and durst not face your foes?
The World can testifie my valour and my skil,
To fight and roare with any he that wil.
My proper person promis'd nothing lesse;
Merit of worth, as all men by me guesse.
A Coward Rascall that nere drew a Sword
In anger all his life, take't on my word!
I fought most gallantly, he spurr'd away,
Left to the hazzard of that gloomy day.
Concluding this discourse, they did agree,
To Westminster to goe, there for to see
If they could finde the Blades that them did rob;
Poore men for want they did both sigh and sob.
Ne're a man that wore a Sword, but they
Like Countrey Hobbies star'd him in the eye.
Often to Westminster they came in vaine,
As wise as fooles they did returne againe.
But on a morne Jack Tewdyr did behold
One of the sparkes that was so rash and bold
As to demand his Purse, but truely he
For want of Taffies presence, had no certainty.
The next day met with his Comradoe Gwyn,
Told him the story; next he did begin
His feature, face, and body to discry,
His terrible looks and sterne Phisiognomy.
Which much amaz'd the youngster on my word,
[Page]And struck him dumbe to heare he had a Sword.
Resolv'd they were to trie another way,
Whatever Fate or Fortune would gainesay.
Brave Twedyr to the Countrey doth retire,
Relates his fate, and makes his friends admire
At his escape, and what to him befel,
Which for a Christmas tale serves for to tel.
Some at him laugh, others great pity take;
Some jeere and flout, some lamentation make,
Some wish him wel, but most did pray,
This Vermin Twedyr might not live that day.
The crafty Fox sits silent, lets them curse;
Out of their Treasure he wil cram his purse,
He poles the Countrey people with deale of ease,
By colour of an Office, cal'd Clerk of Peace.
Taffie Atturney is of great renowne,
Big in his Countrey, but an arrant Clowne.
His Clients Cash was all that he did loose,
I deem him for his pains a gagling Goose.
His greatest ayme was Ladies to salute,
Whose vapring presence strucke the young man mute;
A Countrey leg could make, and busse his hand,
Rub up his nose, and like a Goblyn stand.
And being no later then the other day
Fortune did present him in his way
With a rare purchase, had he but the wit,
And money to, t'improve the best of it,
Might have regain'd his credit and lost fame,
Made himselfe rich and famous in his name.
Wanting both wit and Cash, nay breeding to,
Lost all his hopes, to his eternall woe.
Thus (Gentle Reader) you have here at large
The true Relation of the Brittaines charge
Neere Andiver the manner, time, and place
Where they were rob'd, and how with much disgrace.
Which being the sum in the Frontispiece of the Book
I promis'd to performe; pray view and looke,
And with impartiall judgement give your Vote,
Which prov'd the man, or which the Goate.
‘—Nemo me impune lucessit.’
FINIS.