Chapter 2

And now with sleep my muse hath eased her brain I'll turn my style from prose, to verse again. That which we could not have, we freely spared, And wanting drink, most soberly we fared. We had great store of fowl (but 'twas foul way) And kindly every step entreats me stay, The clammy clay sometimes my heels would trip, One foot went forward, the other back would slip, This weary day, when I had almost past, I came unto Sir _Urian Leigh's_ at last, At _Adlington_, near _Macclesfield_ he doth dwell, Beloved, respected, and reputed well. Through his great love, my stay with him was fixed, From Thursday night, till noon on Monday next, At his own table I did daily eat, Whereat may be supposed, did want no meat, He would have given me gold or silver either, But I, with many thanks, received neither, And thus much without flattery I dare swear, He is a knight beloved far and near, First he's beloved of his God above, (Which love he loves to keep, beyond all love) Next with a wife and children he is blest, Each having God's fear planted in their breast. With fair demaines, revenue of good lands, He's fairly blessed by the Almighty's hands, And as he's happy in these outward things, So from his inward mind continual springs Fruits of devotion, deeds of piety, Good hospitable works of charity, Just in his actions, constant in his word, And one that won his honour with the sword, He's no carranto, cap'ring, carpet knight, But he knows when, and how to speak or fight, I cannot flatter him, say what I can, He's every way a complete gentleman. I write not this, for what he did to me, But what mine ears, and eyes did hear and see, Nor do I pen this to enlarge his fame But to make others imitate the same, For like a trumpet were I pleased to blow, I would his worthy worth more amply show, But I already fear have been too bold, And crave his pardon, me excused to hold. Thanks to his sons and servants every one, Both males and females all, excepting none. To bear a letter he did me require, Near _Manchester_, unto a good Esquire: His kinsman _Edmund Prestwitch_, he ordained, That I was at _Manchester_ entertained Two nights, and one day, ere we thence could pass, For men and horse, roast, boiled, and oats, and grass; This gentleman not only gave harbour, But in the morning sent me to his barber, Who laved, and shaved me, still I spared my purse, Yet sure he left me many a hair the worse. But in conclusion, when his work was ended, His glass informed, my face was much amended. And for the kindness he to me did show, God grant his customers beards faster grow, That though the time of year be dear or cheap, From fruitful faces he may mow and reap. Then came a smith, with shoes, and tooth and nail, He searched my horse's hoofs, mending what did fail, Yet this I note, my nag, through stones and dirt, Did shift shoes twice, ere I did shift one shirt: Can these kind things be in oblivion hid? No, Master _Prestwitch_, this and much more did, His friendship did command and freely gave All before writ, and more than I durst crave. But leaving him a little, I must tell, How men of _Manchester_ did use me well, Their loves they on the tenter-hooks did rack, Roast, boiled, baked, too--too--much, white, claret, sack, Nothing they thought too heavy or too hot, Can followed can, and pot succeeded pot, That what they could do, all they thought too little, Striving in love the traveller to whittle. We went into the house of one _John Pinners_, (A man that lives amongst a crew of sinners) And there eight several sorts of ale we had, All able to make one stark drunk or mad. But I with courage bravely flinched not, And gave the town leave to discharge the shot. We had at one time set upon the table, Good ale of hyssop, 'twas no AEsop-fable: Then had we ale of sage, and ale of malt, And ale of wormwood, that could make one halt, With ale of rosemary, and betony, And two ales more, or else I needs must lie. But to conclude this drinking aley-tale, We had a sort of ale, called scurvy ale. Thus all these men, at their own charge and cost, Did strive whose love should be expressed most, And farther to declare their boundless loves, They saw I wanted, and they gave me gloves, In deed, and very deed, their loves were such, That in their praise I cannot write too much; They merit more than I have here compiled, I lodged at the Eagle and the Child, Whereas my hostess, (a good ancient woman) Did entertain me with respect, not common. She caused my linen, shirts, and bands be washed, And on my way she caused me be refreshed, She gave me twelve silk points, she gave me bacon, Which by me much refused, at last was taken, In troth she proved a mother unto me, For which, I evermore will thankful be. But when to mind these kindnesses I call, Kind Master _Prestwitch_ author is of all, And yet Sir _Urian Leigh's_ good commendation, Was the main ground of this my recreation. From both of them, there what I had, I had, Or else my entertainment had been bad. O all you worthy men of _Manchester_, (True bred bloods of the County _Lancaster_) When I forget what you to me have done, Then let me headlong to confusion run. To noble Master _Prestwitch_ I must give Thanks, upon thanks, as long as I do live, His love was such, I ne'er can pay the score, He far surpassed all that went before, A horse and man he sent, with boundless bounty, To bring me quite through _Lancaster's_ large county, Which I well know is fifty miles at large, And he defrayed all the cost and charge. This unlooked pleasure, was to me such pleasure, That I can ne'er express my thanks with measure. So Mistress _Saracoal_, hostess kind, And _Manchester_ with thanks I left behind. The Wednesday being _July's_ twenty nine, My journey I to _Preston_ did confine, All the day long it rained but one shower, Which from the morning to the evening did pour, And I, before to _Preston_ I could get, Was soused, and pickled both with rain and sweat, But there I was supplied with fire and food, And anything I wanted sweet and good. There, at the Hind, kind Master _Hind_ mine host, Kept a good table, baked and boiled, and roast, There Wednesday, Thursday, Friday I did stay, And hardly got from thence on Saturday. Unto my lodging often did repair, Kind Master _Thomas Banister_, the Mayor, Who is of worship, and of good respect, And in his charge discreet and circumspect. For I protest to God I never saw, A town more wisely governed by the law. They told me when my Sovereign there was last, That one man's rashness seemed to give distaste. It grieved them all, but when at last they found, His Majesty was pleased, their joys were crowned. He knew, the fairest garden hath some weeds, He did accept their kind intents, for deeds: One man there was, that with his zeal too hot, And furious haste, himself much overshot. But what man is so foolish, that desires To get good fruit from thistles, thorns and briars? Thus much I thought good to demonstrate here, Because I saw how much they grieved were; That any way, the least part of offence, Should make them seem offensive to their Prince. Thus three nights was I staid and lodged in _Preston_, And saw nothing ridiculous to jest on, Much cost and charge the Mayor upon me spent, And on my way two miles, with me he went, There (by good chance) I did more friendship get, The under Sheriff of _Lancashire_ we met, A gentleman that loved, and knew me well, And one whose bounteous mind doth bear the bell. There, as if I had been a noted thief, The Mayor delivered me unto the Sheriff. The Sheriff's authority did much prevail, He sent me unto one that kept the jail. Thus I perambuling, poor _John Taylor_, Was given from Mayor to Sheriff, from Sheriff to Jailor. The Jailor kept an inn, good beds, good cheer, Where paying nothing, I found nothing dear, For the under-Sheriff kind Master _Covill_ named, (A man for house-keeping renowed and famed) Did cause the town of _Lancashire_ afford Me welcome, as if I had been a lord. And 'tis reported, that for daily bounty, His mate can scarce be found in all that county. The extremes of miser, or of prodigal, He shuns, and lives discreet and liberal, His wife's mind, and his own are one, so fixed, That _Argus_ eyes could see no odds betwixt, And sure the difference, (if there difference be) Is who shall do most good, or he, or she. Poor folks report, that for relieving them, He and his wife, are each of them a gem; At the inn, and at his house two nights I staid, And what was to be paid, I know he paid: If nothing of their kindness I had wrote, Ungrateful me the world might justly note: Had I declared all I did hear, and see, For a great flatterer then I deemed should be, Him and his wife, and modest daughter _Bess_, With earth, and heaven's felicity, God bless. Two days a man of his, at his command, Did guide me to the midst of _Westmoreland_, And my conductor with a liberal fist, To keep me moist, scarce any alehouse missed. The fourth of August (weary, halt, and lame) We in the dark, to a town called _Sedbergh_ came, There Master _Borrowed_, my kind honest host, Upon me did bestowed unasked cost. The next day I held on my journey still, Six miles unto a place called _Carling_ hill, Where Master _Edmund Branthwaite_[10] doth reside, Who made me welcome, with my man and guide. Our entertainment, and our fare were such, It might have satisfied our betters much; Yet all too little was, his kind heart thought, And five miles on my way himself me brought, At _Orton_ he, I, and my man did dine, With Master _Corney_ a good true Divine, And surely Master _Branthwaite_'s well beloved, His firm integrity is much approved: His good effects, do make him still affected Of God and good men, (with regard) respected. He sent his man with me, o'er dale and down, Who lodged, and boarded me at _Penrith_ town, And such good cheer, and bedding there I had, That nothing, (but my weary self) was bad; There a fresh man, (I know not for whose sake) With me a journey would to _Carlisle_ make: But from that city, about two miles wide, Good Sir _John Dalston_ lodged me and my guide. Of all the gentlemen in _England's_ bounds His house is nearest to the Scottish grounds, And fame proclaims him, far and near, aloud, He's free from being covetous, or proud; His son, Sir _George_, most affable, and kind, His father's image, both in form and mind, On Saturday to _Carlisle_ both did ride, Where (by their loves and leaves) I did abide, Where of good entertainment I found store, From one that was the mayor the year before, His name is Master _Adam Robinson_, I the last English friendship with him won. He (_gratis_) found a guide to bring me through,

[Sidenote: _My thanks to Sir John and Sir Geo. Dalston, with Sir Henry Curwin._]

From _Carlisle_ to the city _Edinburgh_: This was a help, that was a help alone, Of all my helps inferior unto none. Eight miles from _Carlisle_ runs a little river, Which _England's_ bounds, from _Scotland's_ grounds doth sever. Without horse, bridge, or boat, I o'er did get

[Sidenote: _Over Esk I waded._]

On foot, I went, yet scarce my shoes did wet. I being come to this long-looked-for land, Did mark, remark, note, renote, viewed, and scanned; And I saw nothing that could change my will, But that I thought myself in _England_ still. The kingdoms are so nearly joined and fixed, There scarcely went a pair of shears betwixt; There I saw sky above, and earth below, And as in _England_, there the sun did show; The hills with sheep replete, with corn the dale,

[Sidenote: _The afore-named knights had given money to my guide, of which he left some part at every ale-house._]

And many a cottage yielded good Scottish ale; This county (_Avondale_) in former times, Was the cursed climate of rebellious crimes: For _Cumberland_ and it, both kingdoms borders, Were ever ordered, by their own disorders, Some sharking, shifting, cutting throats, and thieving, Each taking pleasure in the other's grieving; And many times he that had wealth to-night, Was by the morrow morning beggared quite: Too many years this pell-mell fury lasted, That all these borders were quite spoiled and wasted, Confusion, hurly-burly reigned and revelled, The churches with the lowly ground were levelled; All memorable monuments defaced, All places of defence o'erthrown and razed. That whoso then did in the borders dwell, Lived little happier than those in hell. But since the all-disposing God of heaven, Hath these two kingdoms to one monarch given, Blest peace, and plenty on them both have showered, Exile, and hanging hath the thieves devoured, That now each subject may securely sleep, His sheep and neat, the black the white doth keep, For now those crowns are both in one combined, Those former borders, that each one confine, Appears to me (as I do understand) To be almost the centre of the land, This was a blessed heaven expounded riddle, To thrust great kingdoms skirts into the middle. Long may the instrumental cause survive. From him and his, succession still derive True heirs unto his virtues, and his throne, That these two kingdoms ever may be one; This county of all _Scotland_ is most poor, By reason of the outrages before, Yet mighty store of corn I saw there grow, And as good grass as ever man did mow: And as that day I twenty miles did pass, I saw eleven hundred neat at grass, By which may be conjectured at the least, That there was sustenance for man and beast. And in the kingdom I have truly scanned, There's many worser parts, are better manned, For in the time that thieving was in ure, The gentles fled to places more secure. And left the poorer sort, to abide the pain, Whilst they could ne'er find time to turn again. The shire of gentlemen is scarce and dainty, Yet there's relief in great abundance plenty, Twixt it and England, little odds I see, They eat, and live, and strong and able be, So much in verse, and now I'll change my style, And seriously I'll write in prose awhile.

To the purpose then: my first night's lodging in _Scotland_ was at a place called _Moffat_, which they say, is thirty miles from _Carlisle_, but I suppose them to be longer than forty of such miles as are betwixt _London_ and Saint _Albans_, (but indeed the Scots do allow almost as large measure of their miles, as they do of their drink, for an English gallon either of ale or wine, is but their quart, and one Scottish mile (now and then, may well stand for a mile and a half or two English) but howsoever short or long, I found that day's journey the weariest that ever I footed; and at night, being come to the town, I found good ordinary country entertainment: my fare and my lodging was sweet and good, and might have served a far better man than myself, although myself have had many times better: but this is to be noted, that though it rained not all the day, yet it was my fortune to be well wet twice, for I waded over a great river called _Esk_ in the morning, somewhat more than four miles distance from _Carlisle_ in _England_, and at night within two miles of my lodging, I was fain to wade over the river of _Annan_ in _Scotland_, from which river the county of _Annandale_, hath its name. And whilst I waded on foot, my man was mounted on horseback, like the _George_ without the Dragon. But the next morning, I arose and left _Moffat_ behind me, and that day I travelled twenty-one miles to a sorry village called _Blythe_, but I was blithe myself to come to any place of harbour or succour, for since I was born, I never was so weary, or so near being dead with extreme travel: I was foundered and refoundered of all four, and for my better comfort, I came so late, that I must lodge without doors all night, or else in a poor house where the good wife lay in child-bed, her husband being from home, her own servant maid being her nurse. A creature naturally compacted, and artificially adorned with an incomparable homeliness: but as things were I must either take or leave, and necessity made me enter, where we got eggs and ale by measure and by tail. At last to bed I went, my man lying on the floor by me, where in the night there were pigeons did very bountifully mute in his face: the day being no sooner come, and having but fifteen miles to _Edinburgh_, mounted upon my ten toes, and began first to hobble, and after to amble, and so being warm, I fell to pace by degrees; all the way passing through a fertile country for corn and cattle: and about two of the clock in the afternoon that Wednesday, being the thirteenth of August, and the day of _Clare_ the Virgin (the sign being in _Virgo_) the moon four days old, the wind at west, I came to take rest, at the wished, long expected, ancient famous city of _Edinburgh_, which I entered like Pierce Penniless,oeee11] altogether moneyless, but I thank God, not friendless; for being there, for the time of my stay, I might borrow, (if any man would lend) spend if I could get, beg if I had the impudence, and steal, if I durst adventure the price of a hanging, but my purpose was to house my horse, and to suffer him and my apparel to lie in durance, or lavender instead of litter, till such time as I could meet with some valiant friend, that would desperately disburse.

Walking thus down the street, (my body being tired with travel, and my mind attired with moody, muddy, Moor-ditch melancholy) my contemplation did devotely pray, that I might meet one or other to prey upon, being willing to take any slender acquaintance of any map whatsoever, viewing, and circumviewing every man's face I met, as if I meant to draw his picture, but all my acquaintance was _Non est inventus_, (pardon me, reader, that Latin is none of my own, I swear by _Priscian's Pericranium_, an oath which I have ignorantly broken many times.) At last I resolved, that the next gentleman that I meet withal, should be acquaintance whether he would or no: and presently fixing mine eyes upon a gentleman-like object, I looked on him, as if I would survey something through him, and make him my perspective: and he much musing at my gazing, and I much gazing at his musing, at last he crossed the way and made toward me, and then I made down the street from him, leaving to encounter with any man, who came after me leading my horse, whom he thus accosted. My friend (quoth he) doth yonder gentleman, (meaning me) know me, that he looks so wistly on me? Truly sir, said my man, I think not, but my master is a stranger come from _London_, and would gladly meet some acquaintance to direct him where he may have lodging and horse-meat. Presently the gentleman, (being of a generous disposition) overtook me with unexpected and undeserved courtesy, brought me to a lodging, and caused my horse to be put into his own stable, whilst we discoursing over a pint of Spanish, I relate as much English to him, as made him lend me ten shillings, (his name was Master _John Maxwell_) which money I am sure was the first that I handled after I came from out the walls of _London_: but having rested two hours and refreshed myself, the gentleman and I walked to see the City and the Castle, which as my poor unable and unworthy pen can, I will truly describe.

The Castle on a lofty rock is so strongly grounded, bounded, and founded, that by force of man it can never be confounded; the foundation and walls are unpenetrable, the rampiers impregnable, the bulwarks invincible, no way but one it is or can be possible to be made passable. In a word, I have seen many straits and fortresses, in _Germany_, the _Netherlands_, _Spain_ and _England_, but they must all give place to this unconquered Castle, both for strength and situation.

Amongst the many memorable things which I was shewed there, I noted especially a great piece of ordnance of iron, it is not for battery, but it will serve to defend a breach, or to toss balls of wild-fire against any that should assail or assault the Castle; it lies now dismounted.[12] And it is so great within, that it was told me that a child was once gotten there: but I, to make trial crept into it, lying on my back, and I am sure there was room enough and spare for a greater than myself.

So leaving the Castle, as it is both defensive against my opposition, and magnific for lodging and receite,[13] I descended lower to the City, wherein I observed the fairest and goodliest street that ever mine eyes beheld, for I did never see or hear of a street of that length, (which is half an English mile from the Castle to a fair port which they call the _Nether-Bow_) and from that port, the street which they call the _Kenny-gate_ is one quarter of a mile more, down to the King's Palace, called _Holy-rood-House_, the buildings on each side of the way being all of squared stone, five, six, and seven stories high, and many bye-lanes and closes on each side of the way, wherein are gentlemen's houses, much fairer than the buildings in the High Street, for in the High Street the merchants and tradesmen do dwell, but the gentlemen's mansions and goodliest houses are obscurely founded in the aforesaid lanes: the walls are eight or ten foot thick, exceeding strong, not built for a day, a week, or a month, or a year; but from antiquity to posterity, for many ages; there I found entertainment beyond my expectation or merit, and there is fish, flesh, bread and fruit, in such variety, that I think I may offenceless call it superfluity, or satiety. The worst was, that wine and ale was so scarce, and the people there such misers of it, that every night before I went to bed, if any man had asked me a civil question, all the wit in my head could not have made him a sober answer.

I was at his Majesty's Palace, a stately and princely seat, wherein I saw a sumptuous chapel, most richly adorned with all appurtenances belonging to so sacred a place, or so royal an owner. In the inner court I saw the King's arms cunningly carved in stone, and fixed over a door aloft on the wall, the red lion being in the crest, over which was written this inscription in Latin,

_Nobis haec invicta miserunt, 106 proavi._

I enquired what the English of it was? it was told me as followeth, which I thought worthy to be recorded.

_106, forefathers have left this to us unconquered._

This is a worthy and memorable motto, and I think few kingdoms or none in the world can truly write the like, that notwithstanding so many inroads, incursions, attempts, assaults, civil wars, and foreign hostilities, bloody battles, and mighty foughten fields, that maugre the strength and policy of enemies, that royal crown and sceptre hath from one hundred and seven descents, kept still unconquered, and by the power of the King of Kings (through the grace of the Prince of Peace) is now left peacefully to our peaceful king, whom long in blessed peace, the God of peace defend and govern.