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THE
PENNYLES
PILGRIMAGE,

OR

The Money-lesse perambulation,

of JOHN TAYLOR, _Alias_
the Kings Majesties
_Water-Poet_.

HOW HE TRAVAILED ON FOOT
from _London_ to _Edenborough_ in _Scotland_, not carrying
any Money to or fro, neither Begging, Borrowing,
or Asking Meate, drinke or
Lodging.

_With his Description of his Entertainment_
in all places of his Journey, and a true Report
of the unmatchable Hunting in the _Brea_
of _Marre_ and _Badenoch_ in
_Scotland_.

With other Observations, some serious and
worthy of Memory, and some merry
and not hurtfull to be Remembred.

_Lastly that (which is Rare in a Travailer)
all is true._

LONDON

Printed by _Edw: Allde_, at the charges of the
Author. 1618




TO THE TRULY
NOBLE AND RIGHT
HONORABLE LORD GEORGE MARQUIS
of Buckingham, Viscount Villiers, Baron of
Whaddon, Justice in Eyre of all his Majesty's
Forests, Parks, and Chases beyond Trent, Master
of the Horse to his Majesty, and one of the Gentlemen
of his Highness Royal Bed-Chamber, Knight
of the most Noble Order of the Garter, and
one of his Majesty's most Honorable
Privy Council of both the
Kingdoms of England
and Scotland.


Right Honorable, and worthy honoured Lord, as in my Travels, I was
entertained, welcomed, and relieved by many Honourable Lords, Worshipful
Knights, Esquires, Gentlemen, and others both in England and Scotland.
So now your Lordship's inclination hath incited, or invited my poor muse
to shelter herself under the shadow of your honorable patronage, not
that there is any worth at all in my sterile invention, but in all
humility I acknowledge that it is only your Lordship's acceptance, that
is able to make this nothing, something, and withal engage me ever.

          Your Honors,

              In all observance,

                    JOHN TAYLOR.


[Decorative thought break]




TO ALL MY LOVING ADVENTURERS,
BY WHAT NAME OR TITLE SOEVER,
MY GENERAL SALUTATION.


_Reader, these Travels of mine into_ Scotland, _were not undertaken,
neither in imitation, or emulation of any man, but only devised by
myself, on purpose to make trial of my friends both in this Kingdom of_
England, _and that of_ Scotland, _and because I would be an eye-witness
of divers things which I had heard of that Country; and whereas many
shallow-brained Critics, do lay an aspersion on me, that I was set on by
others, or that I did undergo this project, either in malice, or mockage
of Master_ Benjamin Jonson, _I vow by the faith of a Christian, that
their imaginations are all wide, for he is a gentleman, to whom I am so
much obliged for many undeserved courtesies that I have received from
him, and from others by his favour, that I durst never to be so impudent
or ungrateful, as either to suffer any man's persuasions, or mine own
instigation, to incite me, to make so bad a requital, for so much
goodness formerly received; so much for that, and now Reader, if you
expect_

That I should write of cities' situations,
Or that of countries I should make relations:
Of brooks, crooks, nooks; of rivers, bournes and rills,
Of mountains, fountains, castles, towers and hills,
Of shires, and piers, and memorable things,
Of lives and deaths of great commanding kings,
I touch not those, they not belong to me;
But if such things as these you long to see,
Lay down my book, and but vouchsafe to read
The learned _Camden_, or laborious _Speed_.

     _And so God speed you and me, whilst I rest

          Yours in all thankfulness:_

                JOHN TAYLOR.


[Decorative thought break]




TAYLOR'S
PENNILESS PILGRIMAGE.


   List Lordlings, list (if you have lust to list)
   I write not here a tale of had I wist:
   But you shall hear of travels, and relations,
   Descriptions of strange (yet English) fashions.
   And he that not believes what here is writ,
   Let him (as I have done) make proof of it.
   The year of grace, accounted (as I ween)
   One thousand twice three hundred and eighteen,
   And to relate all things in order duly,
   'Twas Tuesday last, the fourteenth day of July,
   Saint _Revels_ day, the almanack will tell ye
   The sign in _Virgo_ was, or near the belly:
   The moon full three days old, the wind full south;
   At these times I began this trick of youth.
   I speak not of the tide, for understand,
   My legs I made my oars, and rowed by land,
   Though in the morning I began to go
   Good fellows trooping, flocked me so,
   That make what haste I could, the sun was set,
   E're from the gates of _London_ I could get.
   At last I took my latest leave thus late,
   At the Bell Inn, that's _extra Aldersgate_.
   There stood a horse that my provant[1] should carry,
   From that place to the end of my fegary,[2]
   My horse no horse, or mare, but gelded nag,
   That with good understanding bore my bag:
   And of good carriage he himself did show,
   These things are excellent in a beast you know.
   There in my knapsack, (to pay hunger's fees)
   I had good bacon, biscuit, neat's-tongue, cheese
   With roses, barberries, of each conserves,
   And mithridate, that vigorous health perserves:
   And I entreat you take these words for no-lies,
   I had good _Aqua vitae, Rosa_ so-lies:
   With sweet _Ambrosia_, (the gods' own drink)
   Most excellent gear for mortals, as I think,
   Besides, I had both vinegar and oil,
   That could a daring saucy stomach foil.
   This foresaid Tuesday night 'twixt eight and nine,
   Well rigged and ballasted, both with beer and wine,
   I stumbling forward, thus my jaunt begun,
   And went that night as far as _Islington_.
   There did I find (I dare affirm it bold)
   A Maidenhead of twenty-five years old,
   But surely it was painted, like a whore,
   And for a sign, or wonder, hanged at door,
   Which shows a Maidenhead, that's kept so long,
   May be hanged up, and yet sustain no wrong.
   There did my loving friendly host begin
   To entertain me freely to his inn:
   And there my friends, and good associates,
   Each one to mirth himself accommodates.
   _At Well-head_ both for welcome, and for cheer,
   Having a good _New ton_, of good stale beer:
   There did we _Trundle_[3] down health, after health,
   (Which oftentimes impairs both health and wealth.)
   Till everyone had filled his mortal trunk,
   And only _No-body_[3] was three parts drunk.
   The morrow next, Wednesday Saint _Swithin's_ day,
   From ancient _Islington_ I took my way.
   At _Holywell_ I was enforced carouse,
   Ale high, and mighty, at the Blindman's House.
   But there's a help to make amends for all,
   That though the ale be great, the pots be small.
   At _Highgate_ Hill to a strange house I went,
   And saw the people were to eating bent,
   In either borrowed, craved, asked, begged, or bought,
   But most laborious with my teeth I wrought.
   I did not this, 'cause meat or drink was scant,
   But I did practise thus before my want;
   Like to a Tilter that would win the prize,
   Before the day he'll often exercise.
   So I began to put in use, at first
   These principles 'gainst hunger, 'gainst thirst.
   Close to the Gate,[4] there dwelt a worthy man,
   That well could take his whiff, and quaff his can,
   Right Robin Good-fellow, but humours evil,
   Do call him _Robin Pluto_, or the devil.
   But finding him a devil, freely hearted,
   With friendly farewells I took leave and parted,
   And as alongst I did my journey take,
   I drank at _Broom's well_, for pure fashion's sake,
   Two miles I travelled then without a bait,
   The Saracen's Head at _Whetstone_ entering straight,
   I found an host, that might lead an host of men,
   Exceeding fat, yet named _Lean_, and _Fen_.[5]
   And though we make small reckoning of him here,
   He's known to be a very great man there.
   There I took leave of all my company,
   Bade all farewell, yet spake to _No-body_.
   Good reader think not strange, what I compile,
   For _No-body_ was with me all this while.
   And _No-body_ did drink, and, wink, and scink,
   And on occasion freely spent his chink.
   If anyone desire to know the man,
   Walk, stumble, _Trundle_, but in _Barbican_.
   There's as good beer and ale as ever twang'd,
   And in that street kind _No-body_[6] is hanged.
   But leaving him unto his matchless fame,
   I to St. _Albans_ in the evening came,
   Where Master _Taylor_, at the Saracen's Head,
   Unasked (unpaid for) me both lodged and fed.
   The tapsters, hostlers, chamberlains, and all,
   Saved me a labour, that I need not call,
   The jugs were filled and filled, the cups went round,
   And in a word great kindness there I found,
   For which both to my cousin, and his men,
   I'll still be thankful in word, deed, and pen.
   Till Thursday morning there I made my stay,
   And then I went plain _Dunstable_ highway.
   My very heart with drought methought did shrink,
   I went twelve miles, and no one bade me drink.
   Which made me call to mind, that instant time,
   That drunkenness was a most sinful crime.
   When _Puddle-hill_ I footed down, and past
   A mile from thence, I found a hedge at last.
   There stroke we sail, our bacon, cheese, and bread,
   We drew like fiddlers, and like farmers fed.
   And whilst two hours we there did take our ease,
   My nag made shift to mump green pulse[7] and peas.
   Thus we our hungry stomachs did supply,
   And drank the water of a brook hard by.
   Away toward _Hockley_ in the Hole, we make,
   When straight a horseman did me overtake,
   Who knew me, and would fain have given me coin,
   I said, my bonds did me from coin enjoin,
   I thanked and prayed him to put up his chink,
   And willingly I wished it drowned in drink.
   Away rode he, but like an honest man,
   I found at _Hockley_ standing at the Swan,
   A formal tapster, with a jug and glass,
   Who did arrest me: I most willing was
   To try the action, and straight put in bail,
   My fees were paid before, with sixpence ale,
   To quit this kindness, I most willing am,
   The man that paid for all, his name is _Dam_,
   At the Green Dragon, against _Grays-Inn_ gate,
   He lives in good repute, and honest state.
   I forward went in this my roving race,
   To _Stony Stratford_ I toward night did pace,
   My mind was fixed through the town to pass,
   To find some lodging in the hay or grass,
   But at the _Queen's Arms_, from the window there,
   A comfortable voice I chanced to hear,
   Call _Taylor, Taylor_, and be hanged come hither,
   I looked for small entreaty and went thither,
   There were some friends, which I was glad to see,
   Who knew my journey; lodged, and boarded me.
   On Friday morn, as I would take my way,
   My friendly host entreated me to stay,
   Because it rained, he told me I should have
   Meat, drink, and horse-meat and not pay or crave.
   I thanked him, and for his love remain his debtor,
   But if I live, I will requite him better.
   (From _Stony Stratford_) the way hard with stones,
   Did founder me, and vex me to the bones.
   In blustering weather, both for wind and rain,
   Through _Towcester_ I trotted with much pain,
   Two miles from thence, we sat us down and dined,
   Well bulwarked by a hedge, from rain and wind.
   We having fed, away incontinent,
   With weary pace toward _Daventry_ we went.
   Four miles short of it, one o'ertook me there,
   And told me he would leave a jug of beer,
   At _Daventry_ at the Horse-shoe for my use.
   I thought it no good manners to refuse,
   But thanked him, for his kind unasked gift,
   Whilst I was lame as scarce a leg could lift,
   Came limping after to that stony town,
   Whose hard streets made me almost halt right down.
   There had my friend performed the words he said,
   And at the door a jug of liquor staid,
   The folks were all informed, before I came,
   How, and wherefore my journey I did frame,
   Which caused mine hostess from her door come out,
   (Having a great wart rampant on her snout.)
   The tapsters, hostlers, one another call,
   The chamberlains with admiration all,
   Were filled with wonder, more than wonderful,
   As if some monster sent from the _Mogul_,
   Some elephant from _Africa_, I had been,
   Or some strange beast from the _Amazonian_ Queen.
   As buzzards, widgeons, woodcocks, and such fowl,
   Do gaze and wonder at the broad-faced owl,
   So did these brainless asses, all amazed,
   With admirable _Nonsense_ talked and gazed,
   They knew my state (although not told by me)
   That I could scarcely go, they all could see,
   They drank of my beer, that to me was given,
   But gave me not a drop to make all even,
   And that which in my mind was most amiss,
   My hostess she stood by and saw all this,
   Had she but said, come near the house my friend,
   For this day here shall be your journey's end.
   Then had she done the thing which [she] did not,
   And I in kinder words had paid the shot.
   I do entreat my friends, (as I have some)
   If they to _Daventry_ do chance to come,
   That they will baulk that inn; or if by chance,
   Or accident into that house they glance,
   Kind gentlemen, as they by you reap profit,
   My hostess care of me, pray tell her of it,[8]
   Yet do not neither; lodge there when you will,
   You for your money shall be welcome still.
   From thence that night, although my bones were sore,
   I made a shift to hobble seven miles more:
   The way to _Dunchurch_, foul with dirt and mire,
   Able, I think, both man and horse to tire.
   On _Dunsmoor_ Heath, a hedge doth there enclose
   Grounds, on the right hand, there I did repose.
   Wit's whetstone, Want, there made us quickly learn,
   With knives to cut down rushes, and green fern,
   Of which we made a field-bed in the field,
   Which sleep, and rest, and much content did yield.
   There with my mother earth, I thought it fit
   To lodge, and yet no incest did commit:
   My bed was curtained with good wholesome airs,
   And being weary, I went up no stairs:
   The sky my canopy, bright _Phoebe_ shined
   Sweet bawling _Zephyrus_ breathed gentle wind,
   In heaven's star-chamber I did lodge that night,
   Ten thousand stars, me to my bed did light;
   There barricadoed with a bank lay we
   Below the lofty branches of a tree,
   There my bed-fellows and companions were,
   My man, my horse, a bull, four cows, two steer:
   But yet for all this most confused rout,
   We had no bed-staves, yet we fell not out.
   Thus nature, like an ancient free upholster,
   Did furnish us with bedstead, bed, and bolster;
   And the kind skies, (for which high heaven be thanked,)
   Allowed us a large covering and a blanket;
   _Auroras_ face 'gan light our lodging dark,
   We arose and mounted, with the mounting lark,
   Through plashes, puddles, thick, thin, wet and dry,
   I travelled to the city _Coventry_.
   There Master Doctor _Holland_[9] caused me stay
   The day of _Saturn_ and the Sabbath day.
   Most friendly welcome, he me did afford,
   I was so entertained at bed and board,
   Which as I dare not brag how much it was,
   I dare not be ingrate and let it pass,
   But with thanks many I remember it,
   (Instead of his good deeds) in words and writ,
   He used me like his son, more than a friend,
   And he on Monday his commends did send
   To _Newhall_, where a gentleman did dwell,
   Who by his name is hight _Sacheverell_.
   The Tuesday _July's_ one and twentieth day,
   I to the city _Lichfield_ took my way,
   At _Sutton Coldfield_ with some friends I met,
   And much ado I had from thence to get,
   There I was almost put unto my trumps,
   My horse's shoes were worn as thin as pumps;
   But noble _Vulcan_, a mad smuggy smith,
   All reparations me did furnish with.
   The shoes were well removed, my palfrey shod,
   And he referred the payment unto God.
   I found a friend, when I to _Lichfield_ came,
   A joiner, and _John Piddock_ is his name.
   He made me welcome, for he knew my jaunt,
   And he did furnish me with good provant:
   He offered me some money, I refused it,
   And so I took my leave, with thanks excused it,
   That Wednesday, I a weary way did pass,
   Rain, wind, stones, dirt, and dabbling dewy grass,
   With here and there a pelting scattered village,
   Which yielded me no charity, or pillage:
   For all the day, nor yet the night that followed.
   One drop of drink I'm sure my gullet swallowed.
   At night I came to a stony town called _Stone_.
   Where I knew none, nor was I known of none:
   I therefore through the streets held on my pace,
   Some two miles farther to some resting place:
   At last I spied a meadow newly mowed,
   The hay was rotten, the ground half o'erflowed:
   We made a breach, and entered horse and man,
   There our pavilion, we to pitch began,
   Which we erected with green broom and hay,
   To expel the cold, and keep the rain away;
   The sky all muffled in a cloud 'gan lower,
   And presently there fell a mighty shower,
   Which without intermission down did pour,
   From ten a night, until the morning's four.
   We all that time close in our couch did lie,
   Which being well compacted kept us dry.
   The worst was, we did neither sup nor sleep,
   And so a temperate diet we did keep.
   The morning all enrobed in drifting fogs,
   We being as ready as we had been dogs:
   We need not stand upon long ready making,
   But gaping, stretching, and our ears well shaking:
   And for I found my host and hostess kind,
   I like a true man left my sheets behind.
   That Thursday morn, my weary course I framed,
   Unto a town that is _Newcastle_ named.
   (Not that _Newcastle_ standing upon _Tyne_)
   But this town situation doth confine
   Near _Cheshire_, in the famous county _Stafford_,
   And for their love, I owe them not a straw for't;
     But now my versing muse craves some repose,
     And whilst she sleeps I'll spout a little prose.

In this town of _Newcastle_, I overtook an hostler, and I asked him what
the next town was called, that was in my way toward _Lancaster_, he
holding the end of a riding rod in his mouth, as if it had been a flute,
piped me this answer, and said, _Talk-on-the-Hill_; I asked him again
what he said _Talk-on-the-Hill_: I demanded the third time, and the
third time he answered me as he did before, _Talk-on-the-Hill_. I began
to grow choleric, and asked him why he could not talk, or tell me my way
as well there as on the hill; at last I was resolved, that the next town
was four miles off me, and that the name of it was, _Talk-on-the-Hill_:
I had not travelled above two miles farther: but my last night's supper
(which was as much as nothing) my mind being informed of it by my
stomach. I made a virtue of necessity, and went to breakfast in the Sun:
I have fared better at three Suns many times before now, in _Aldersgate
Street_, _Cripplegate_, and new _Fish Street_; but here is the odds, at
those Suns they will come upon a man with a tavern bill as sharp cutting
as a tailor's bill of items: a watchman's-bill, or a welsh-hook falls
not half so heavy upon a man; besides, most of the vintners have the law
in their own hands, and have all their actions, cases, bills of debt,
and such reckonings tried at their own bars; from whence there is no
appeal. But leaving these impertinences, in the material Sunshine, we
eat a substantial dinner, and like miserable guests we did budget up the
reversions.

   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.

But once more, a word or two of _Edinburgh_, although I have scarcely
given it that due which belongs unto it, for their lofty and stately
buildings, and for their fair and spacious street, yet my mind persuades
me that they in former ages that first founded that city did not so well
in that they built it in so discommodious a place; for the sea, and all
navigable rivers being the chief means for the enriching of towns and
cities, by the reason of traffic with foreign nations, with exportation,
transportation, and receite of variety of merchandizing; so this city
had it been built but one mile lower on the seaside, I doubt not but it
had long before this been comparable to many a one of our greatest towns
and cities in _Europe_, both for spaciousness of bounds, port, state,
and riches. It is said, that King _James_ the fifth (of famous memory)
did graciously offer to purchase for them, and to bestow upon them
freely, certain low and pleasant grounds a mile from them on the
seashore, with these conditions, that they should pull down their city,
and build it in that more commodious place, but the citizens refused it;
and so now it is like (for me), to stand where it doth, for I doubt such
another proffer of removal will not be presented to them, till two days
after the fair.

Now have with you for _Leith_, whereto I no sooner came, but I was well
entertained by Master _Barnard Lindsay_, one of the grooms of his
Majesties bed-chamber, he knew my estate was not guilty, because I
brought guilt with me (more than my sins, and they would not pass for
current there) he therefore did replenish the vaustity[14] of my empty
purse, and discharged a piece at me with two bullets of gold, each
being in value worth eleven shillings white money; and I was creditably
informed, that within the compass of one year, there was shipped away
from that only port of _Leith_, fourscore thousand boles of wheat, oats,
and barley into _Spain_, _France_, and other foreign parts, and every
bole contains the measure of four English bushels, so that from _Leith_
only hath been transported three hundred and twenty thousand bushels of
corn; besides some hath been shipped away from Saint _Andrews_, from
_Dundee_, _Aberdeen_, _Dysart_, _Kirkaldy_, _Kinghorn_, _Burntisland_,
_Dunbar_, and other portable towns, which makes me to wonder that a
kingdom so populous as it is, should nevertheless sell so much
bread-corn beyond the seas, and yet to have more than sufficient for
themselves.

So I having viewed the haven and town of _Leith_, took a passage boat to
see the new wondrous Well,[15] to which many a one that is not well,
comes far and near in hope to be made well: indeed I did hear that it
had done much good, and that it hath a rare operation to expel or kill
divers maladies; as to provoke appetite, to help much for the avoiding
of the gravel in the bladder, to cure sore eyes, and old ulcers, with
many other virtues which it hath, but I (through the mercy of God,
having no need of it, did make no great inquisition what it had done,
but for novelty I drank of it, and I found the taste to be more pleasant
than any other water, sweet almost as milk, yet as clear as crystal, and
I did observe that though a man did drink a quart, a pottle, or as much
as his belly could contain, yet it never offended or lay heavy upon the
stomach, no more than if one had drank but a pint or a small quantity.

I went two miles from it to a town called _Burntisland_, where I found
many of my especial good friends, as Master _Robert Hay_, one of the
Grooms of his Majesty's Bed-chamber, Master _David Drummond_, one of his
Gentlemens-Pensioners, Master _James Acmootye_, one of the Grooms of the
Privy Chamber, Captain _Murray_, Sir _Henry Witherington_ Knight,
Captain _Tyrie_, and divers others: and there Master _Hay_, Master
_Drummond_, and the good old Captain _Murray_ did very bountifully
furnish me with gold for my expenses, but I being at dinner with those
aforesaid gentlemen, as we were discoursing, there befel a strange
accident, which I think worth the relating.

I know not upon what occasion they began to talk of being at sea in
former times, and I (amongst the rest) said, I was at the taking of
_Cadiz_; whereto an English gentleman replied, that he was the next good
voyage after at the Islands: I answered him that I was there also. He
demanded in what ship I was? I told him in the Rainbow of the Queens:
why (quoth he) do you not know me? I was in the same ship, and my name
is _Witherington_.

Sir, said I, I do remember the name well, but by reason that it is near
two and twenty years since I saw you, I may well forget the knowledge of
you. Well said he, if you were in that ship, I pray you tell me some
remarkable token that happened in the voyage, whereupon I told him two
or three tokens; which he did know to be true. Nay then, said I, I will
tell you another which (perhaps) you have not forgotton; as our
ship and the rest of the fleet did ride at anchor at the Isle of
_Flores_ (one of the Isles of the _Azores_) there were some fourteen men
and boys of our ship, that for novelty would go ashore, and see what
fruit the island did bear, and what entertainment it would yield us; so
being landed, we went up and down and could find nothing but stones,
heath and moss, and we expected oranges, lemons, figs, musk-mellions,
and potatoes; in the mean space the wind did blow so stiff, and the sea
was so extreme rough, that our ship-boat could not come to the land to
fetch us, for fear she should be beaten in pieces against the rocks;
this continued five days, so that we were almost famished for want of
food: but at last (I squandering up and down) by the providence of God
I happened into a cave or poor habitation, where I found fifteen loaves
of bread, each of the quantity of a penny loaf in _England_, I having a
valiant stomach of the age of almost of a hundred and twenty hours
breeding, fell to, and ate two loaves and never said grace: and as I was
about to make a horse-loaf of the third loaf, I did put twelve of them
into my breeches, and my sleeves, and so went mumbling out of the cave,
leaning my back against a tree, when upon the sudden a gentleman came to
me, and said, "Friend, what are you eating?" "Bread," (quoth I,) "For
God's sake," said he, "give me some." With that, I put my hand into my
breech, (being my best pantry) and I gave him a loaf, which he received
with many thanks, and said, that if ever he could requit it, he would.

I had no sooner told this tale, but Sir _Henry Witherington_ did
acknowledge himself to be the man that I had given the loaf unto two and
twenty years before, where I found the proverb true, that men have more
privilege than mountains in meeting.

In what great measure he did requite so small a courtesy, I will relate
in this following discourse in my return through _Northumberland_: so
leaving my man at the town of _Burntisland_, I told him, I would but go
to _Stirling_, and see the Castle there, and withal to see my honourable
friends the Earl of _Mar_, and Sir _William Murray_ Knight, Lord of
_Abercairney_, and that I would return within two days at the most: but
it fell out quite contrary; for it was and five and thirty days before I
could get back again out of these noble men's company. The whole
progress of my travel with them, and the cause of my stay I cannot with
gratefulness omit; and thus it was.

A worthy gentleman named Master _John Fenton_, did bring me on my way
six miles to _Dunfermline_, where I was well entertained, and lodged at
Master _John Gibb_ his house, one of the Grooms of his Majesty's
Bed-chamber, and I think the oldest servant the King hath: withal, I was
well entertained there by Master _Crighton_ at his own house, who went
with me, and shewed me the Queens Palace; (a delicate and Princely
Mansion) withal I saw the ruins of an ancient and stately built Abbey,
with fair gardens, orchards, meadows belonging to the Palace: all which
with fair and goodly revenues by the suppression of the Abbey, were
annexed to the crown. There also I saw a very fair church, which though
it be now very large and spacious, yet it hath in former times been much
larger. But I taking my leave of _Dunfermline_, would needs go and see
the truly noble Knight Sir _George Bruce_, at a town called the
_Culross_: there he made me right welcome, both with variety of fare,
and after all, he commanded three of his men to direct me to see his
most admirable coal mines; which (if man can or could work wonders) is a
wonder; for myself neither in any travels that I have been in, nor any
history that I have read, or any discourse that I have heard, did never
see, read, or hear of any work of man that might parallel or be
equivalent with this unfellowed and unmatchable work: and though all I
can say of it, cannot describe it according to the worthiness of his
vigilant industry, that was both the occasion, inventor, and maintainer
of it: yet rather than the memory of so rare an enterprise, and so
accomplished a profit to the common-wealth shall be raked and smothered
in the dust of oblivion, I will give a little touch at the description
of it, although I amongst writers, am like he that worse may hold the
candle.

The mine hath two ways into it, the one by sea and the other by land;
but a man may go into it by land, and return the same way if he please,
and so he may enter into it by sea, and by sea he may come forth of it:
but I for variety's sake went in by sea, and out by land. Now men may
object, how can a man go into a mine, the entrance of it being into the
sea, but that the sea will follow him, and so drown the mine? To which
objection thus I answer, that at low water mark, the sea being ebbed
away, and a great part of the sand bare; upon this same sand (being
mixed with rocks and crags) did the master of this great work build a
round circular frame of stone, very thick, strong, and joined together
with glutinous or bituminous matter, so high withal that the sea at the
highest flood, or the greatest rage of storm or tempest, can neither
dissolve the stones so well compacted in the building or yet overflow
the height of it. Within this round frame, (at all adventures) he did
set workmen to dig with mattocks, pickaxes, and other instruments fit
for such purposes. They did dig forty feet down right into and through a
rock. At last they found that which they expected, which was sea coal,
they following the vein of the mine, did dig forward still: so that in
the space of eight and twenty, or nine and twenty years, they have
digged more than an English mile under the sea, so that when men are at
work below, an hundred of the greatest ships in _Britain_ man sail over
their heads. Besides, the mine is most artificially cut like an arch or
a vault, all that great length, with many nooks and bye-ways: and it is
so made, that a man may walk upright in the most places, both in and
out. Many poor people are there set on work, which otherwise through the
want of employment would perish. But when I had seen the mine, and was
come forth of it again; after my thanks given to Sir _George Bruce_, I
told him, that if the plotters of the Powder Treason in England had
seen this mine, that they (perhaps) would have attempted to have left
the Parliament House, and have undermined the Thames, and so to have
blown up the barges and wherries, wherein the King, and all the estates
of our kingdom were. Moreover, I said, that I could afford to turn
tapster at _London_, so that I had but
          one quarter of a mile of his mine to make me
             a cellar, to keep beer and bottled ale
                 in. But leaving these jests in
                   prose, I will relate a few
                       verses that I made
                         merrily of this
                              mine.

   I that have wasted, months, weeks, days, and hours
   In viewing kingdoms, countries, towns, and towers,
   Without all measure, measuring many paces,
   And with my pen describing many places,
   With few additions of mine own devising,
   (Because I have a smack of _Coryatizing_[16])
   Our _Mandeville_, _Primaleon_, _Don Quixote_,
   Great _Amadis_, or _Huon_, travelled not
   As I have done, or been where I have been,
   Or heard and seen, what I have heard and seen;
   Nor Britain's _Odcombe_ (_Zany_ brave _Ulysses_)
   In all his ambling, saw the like as this is.
   I was in (would I could describe it well)
   A dark, light, pleasant, profitable hell,
   And as by water I was wafted in,
   I thought that I in _Charon's_ boat had been,
   But being at the entrance landed thus,
   Three men there (instead of _Cerberus_)
   Convey'd me in, in each one hand a light
   To guide us in that vault of endless night,
   There young and old with glim'ring candles burning
   Dig, delve, and labour, turning and returning,
   Some in a hole with baskets and with bags,
   Resembling furies, or infernal hags:
   There one like _Tantalus_ feeding, and there one,
   Like _Sisyphus_ he rolls the restless stone.
   Yet all I saw was pleasure mixed with profit,
   Which proved it to be no tormenting Tophet[17]
   For in this honest, worthy, harmless hell,
   There ne'er did any damned Devil dwell;
   And th' owner of it gains by 't more true glory,
   Than _Rome_ doth by fantastic Purgatory.
   A long mile thus I passed, down, down, steep, steep,
   In deepness far more deep, than _Neptunes_ deep,
   Whilst o'er my head (in fourfold stories high)
   Was earth, and sea, and air, and sun, and sky:
   That had I died in that _Cimmerian_[18] room,
   Four elements had covered o'er my tomb:
   Thus farther than the bottom did I go,
   (And many Englishmen have not done so;)
   Where mounting porpoises, and mountain whales,
   And regiments of fish with fins and scales,
   'Twixt me and heaven did freely glide and slide,
   And where great ships may at an anchor ride:
   Thus in by sea, and out by land I past,
   And took my leave of good Sir _George_ at last.

The sea at certain places doth leak, or soak into the mine, which by the
industry of Sir _George Bruce_, is all conveyed to one well near the
land; where he hath a device like a horse-mill, that with three horses
and a great chain of iron, going downward many fathoms, with thirty-six
buckets fastened to the chain, of the which eighteen go down still to
be filled, and eighteen ascend up to be emptied, which do empty
themselves (without any man's labour) into a trough that conveys the
water into the sea again; by which means he saves his mine, which
otherwise would be destroyed with the sea, besides he doth make every
week ninety or a hundred tons of salt, which doth serve most part of
_Scotland_, some he sends into _England_, and very much into _Germany_:
all which shows the painful industry with God's blessings to such worthy
endeavours: I must with many thanks remember his courtesy to me, and
lastly how he sent his man to guide me ten miles on the way to
_Stirling_, where by the way I saw the outside of a fair and stately
house called _Allaway_, belonging to the Earl of _Mar_ which by reason
that his honour was not there, I past by and went to _Stirling_, where I
was entertained and lodged at one Master John _Archibalds_, where all my
want was that I wanted room to contain half the good cheer that I might
have had there! he had me into the castle, which in few words I do
compare to _Windsor_ for situation, much more than _Windsor_ in
strength, and somewhat less in greatness: yet I dare affirm that his
Majesty hath not such another hall to any house that he hath neither in
_England_ or _Scotland_, except Westminster Hall which is now no
dwelling hall for a prince, being long since metamorphosed into a house
for the law and the profits.

This goodly hall was built by King _James_ the fourth, that married King
_Henry_ the Eight's sister, and after was slain at _Flodden field_; but
it surpasses all the halls for dwelling houses that ever I saw, for
length, breadth, height and strength of building, the castle is built
upon a rock very lofty, and much beyond _Edinburgh_ Castle in state and
magnificence, and not much inferior to it in strength, the rooms of it
are lofty, with carved works on the ceilings, the doors of each room
being so high, that a man may ride upright on horseback into any chamber
or lodging. There is also a goodly fair chapel, with cellars, stables,
and all other necessary offices, all very stately and befitting the
majesty of a king.

From _Stirling_ I rode to Saint _Johnstone_,[19] a fine town it is, but
it is much decayed, by reason of the want of his Majesty's yearly coming
to lodge there. There I lodged one night at an inn, the goodman of the
house his name being _Patrick Pitcairne_, where my entertainment was
with good cheer, good lodging, all too good to a bad weary guest. Mine
host told me that the Earl of _Mar_, and Sir _William Murray_ of
_Abercairney_ were gone to the great hunting to the _Brae_ of _Mar_[20];
but if I made haste I might perhaps find them at a town called
_Brekin_, or _Brechin_, two and thirty miles from Saint _Johnstone_
whereupon I took a guide to _Brechin_ the next day, but before I came,
my lord was gone from thence four days.

Then I took another guide, which brought me such strange ways over
mountains and rocks, that I think my horse never went the like; and I am
sure I never saw any ways that might fellow them I did go through a
country called _Glen Esk_, where passing by the side of a hill, so steep
as the ridge of a house, where the way was rocky, and not above a yard
broad in some places, so fearful and horrid it was to look down into the
bottom, for if either horse or man had slipped, he had fallen without
recovery a good mile downright; but I thank God, at
night I came to a lodging in the Laird of _Edzell's_ land, where I lay
at an Irish house, the folks not being able to speak scarce any English,
but I supped and went to bed, where I had not laid long, but I was
enforced to rise, I was so stung with Irish musquitoes, a
creature that hath six legs, and lives like a monster altogether upon
man's flesh, they do inhabit and breed most in sluttish houses, and this
house was none of the cleanest, the beast is much like a louse in
_England_, both in shape and nature; in a word, they were to me the _A._
and the _Z._ the prologue and the epilogue, the first and the last that
I had in all my travels from _Edinburgh_; and had not this Highland
Irish house helped me at a pinch, I should have sworn that all
_Scotland_ had not been so kind as to have bestowed a louse upon me: but
with a shift that I had, I shifted off my cannibals, and was never more
troubled with them.

The next day I travelled over an exceeding high mountain, called mount
_Skene_, where I found the valley very warm before I went up it; but
when I came to the top of it, my teeth began to dance in my head with
cold, like Virginal's jacks;[21] and withal, a most familiar mist
embraced me round, that I could not see thrice my length any way:
withal, it yielded so friendly a dew, that did moisten through all my
clothes: where the old Proverb of a Scottish mist was verified, in
wetting me to the skin. Up and down, I think this hill is six miles, the
way so uneven, stony, and full of bogs, quagmires, and long heath, that
a dog with three legs will out-run a horse with four; for do what we
could, we were four hours before we could pass it.

Thus with extreme travel, ascending and descending, mounting and
alighting, I came at night to the place where I would be, in the Brae of
_Mar_, which is a large county, all composed of such mountains, that
Shooter's Hill, Gad's Hill, Highgate Hill, Hampstead Hill, Birdlip
Hill, or Malvern's Hills, are but mole-hills in comparison, or like a
liver, or a gizard under a capon's wing, in respect of the altitude of
their tops, or perpendicularity of their bottoms. There I saw Mount _Ben
Aven_, with a furred mist upon his snowy head instead of a night-cap:
(for you must understand, that the oldest man alive never saw but the
snow was on the top of divers of those hills, both in summer, as well as
in winter.) There did I find the truly Noble and Right Honourable Lords
_John Erskine_ Earl of Mar, _James Stuart_ Earl of Murray, _George
Gordon_ Earl of Enzie, son and heir to the Marquess of Huntly, _James
Erskine_ Earl of Buchan, and _John_ Lord _Erskine_, son and heir to the
Earl of Mar, and their Countesses, with my much honoured, and my best
assured and approved friend, Sir _William Murray_ Knight, of
_Abercairney_, and hundred of others Knights, Esquires, and their
followers; all and every man in general in one habit, as if _Lycurgus_
had been there, and made laws of equality: for once in the year, which
is the whole month of August, and sometimes part of September, many of
the nobility and gentry of the kingdom (for their pleasure) do come into
these Highland Countries to hunt, where they do conform themselves to
the habit of the Highland men, who for the most part speak nothing but
Irish; and in former time were those people which were called the
_Red-shanks_.[22] Their habit is shoes with but one sole apiece;
stockings (which they call short hose) made of a warm stuff of divers
colours, which they call tartan: as for breeches, many of them, nor
their forefathers never wore any, but a jerkin of the same stuff that
their hose is of, their garters being bands or wreaths of hay or straw,
with a plaid about their shoulders, which is a mantle of divers colours,
of much finer and lighter stuff than their hose, with blue flat caps on
their heads, a handkerchief knit with two knots about their neck; and
thus are they attired. Now their weapons are long bows and forked
arrows, swords and targets, harquebusses, muskets, dirks, and Lochaber
axes. With these arms I found many of them armed for the hunting. As for
their attire, any man of what degree soever that comes amongst them,
must not disdain to wear it; for if they do, then they will disdain to
hunt, or willingly, to bring in their dogs: but if men be kind unto
them, and be in their habit; then are they conquered with kindness, and
the sport will be plentiful. This was the reason that I found so many
noblemen and gentlemen in those shapes. But to proceed to the hunting.

My good Lord of _Mar_ having put me into that shape,[23] I rode with him
from his house, where I saw the ruins of an old castle, called the
castle of _Kindroghit_ [Castletown]. It was built by King _Malcolm
Canmore_ (for a hunting house) who reigned in _Scotland_ when _Edward_
the Confessor, _Harold_, and Norman _William_ reigned in _England_: I
speak of it, because it was the last house that I saw in those parts;
for I was the space of twelve days after, before I saw either house,
corn field, or habitation for any creature, but deer, wild horses,
wolves, and such like creatures, which made me doubt that I should never
have seen a house again.[24]

Thus the first day we travelled eight miles, where there small cottages
built on purpose to lodge in, which they call Lonchards, I thank my good
Lord _Erskine_, he commanded that I should always be lodged in his
lodging, the kitchen being always on the side of a bank, many kettles
and pots boiling, and many spits turning and winding, with great variety
of cheer: as venison baked, sodden, roast, and stewed beef, mutton,
goats, kid, hares, fresh salmon, pigeons, hens, capons, chickens,
partridge, moor-coots, heath-cocks, capercailzies, and termagants
[ptarmigans]; good ale, sack, white, and claret, tent, (or Alicante)
with most potent _Aquavitae_.

All these, and more than these we had continually, in superfluous
abundance, caught by Falconers, Fowlers, Fishers, and brought by my
Lord's tenants and purveyors to victual our camp, which consisted of
fourteen or fifteen hundred men and horses; the manner of the hunting is
this: five or six hundred men do rise early in the morning, and they do
disperse themselves divers ways, and seven, eight, or ten miles compass,
they do bring or chase in the deer in many herds, (two, three, or four
hundred in a herd) to such or such a place, as the Nobleman shall
appoint them; then when day is come, the Lords and gentlemen of their
companies, do ride or go to the said places, sometimes wading up to
their middles through bournes and rivers: and then: they being come to
the place, do lie down on the ground, till those foresaid scouts which
are called the Tinchel, do bring down the deer: but as the proverb says
of a bad cook, so these Tinchel-men do lick their own fingers; for
besides their bows and arrows, which they carry with them, we can hear
now and then a harquebuss or a musket go off, which they do seldom
discharge in vain: Then after we had stayed there three hours or
thereabouts, we might perceive the deer appear on the hills round about
us, (their heads making a show like a wood) which being followed close
by the Tinchel, are chased down into the valley where we lay; then all
the valley on each side being waylaid with a hundred couple of strong
Irish greyhounds, they are let loose as the occasion serves upon the
herd of deer, so that with dogs, guns, arrows, dirks, and daggers, in
the space of two hours, fourscore fat deer were slain, which after are
disposed of some one way, and some another, twenty and thirty miles, and
more than enough left for us to make merry withal at our rendezvous. I
liked the sport so well, that I made these two sonnets following.

   Why should I waste invention to indite,
   _Ovidian_ fictions, or Olympian games?
   My misty Muse enlightened with more light,
   To a more noble pitch her aim she frames.
   I must relate to my great Master JAMES,
   The Caledonian annual peaceful war;
   How noble minds do eternize their fames,
   By martial meeting in the Brae of _Mar_:
   How thousand gallant spirits came near and far,
   With swords and targets, arrows, bows, and guns,
   That all the troop to men of judgment, are
   The God of Wars great never conquered sons,
   The sport is manly, yet none bleed but beasts,
   And last the victor on the vanquished feasts.
   If sport like this can on the mountains be,
   Where _Phoebus_ flames can never melt the snow;
   Then let who list delight in vales below,
   Sky-kissing mountains pleasure are for me:
   What braver object can man's eyesight see,
   Than noble, worshipful, and worthy wights,
   As if they were prepared for sundry fights,
   Yet all in sweet society agree?
   Through heather, moss, 'mongst frogs, and bogs, and fogs,
   'Mongst craggy cliffs, and thunder-battered hills,
   Hares, hinds, bucks, roes, are chased by men and dogs,
   Where two hours hunting fourscore fat deer kills.
   Lowland, your sports are low as is your seat,
   The Highland games and minds, are high and great.

Being come to our lodgings, there was such baking, boiling, roasting,
and stewing, as if Cook Ruffian had been there to have scalded the devil
in his feathers: and after supper a fire of fir-wood as high as an
indifferent May-pole: for I assure you, that the Earl of _Mar_ will give
any man that is his friend, for thanks, as many fir trees (that are as
good as any ship's masts in England) as are worth if they were in any
place near the Thames, or any other portable river) the best earldom in
England or Scotland either: For I dare affirm, he hath as many growing
there, as would serve for masts (from this time to the end of the world)
for all the ships, caracks, hoys, galleys, boats, drumlers, barks, and
water-crafts, that are now, or can be in the world these forty years.

This sounds like a lie to an unbeliever; but I and many thousands do
know that I speak within the compass of truth: for indeed (the more is
the pity) they do grow so far from any passage of water, and withal in
such rocky mountains, that no way to convey them is possible to be
passable, either with boat, horse, or cart.

Thus having spent certain days in hunting in the Brae of _Mar_, we went
to the next county called _Badenoch_, belonging to the Earl of _Enzie_,
where having such sport and entertainment as we formerly had; after four
or five days pastime, we took leave of hunting for that year; and took
our journey toward a strong house of the Earl's, called _Ruthven_ in
_Badenoch_, where my Lord of _Enzie_ and his noble Countess (being
daughter to the Earl of _Argyle_) did give us most noble welcome three
days.

From thence we went to a place called _Balloch Castle_,[25] a fair and
stately house, a worthy gentleman being the owner of it, called the
Laird of _Grant_; his wife being a gentlewoman honourably descended
being sister to the right Honourable Earl of _Athol_, and to Sir
_Patrick Murray_ Knight; she being both inwardly and outwardly
plentifully adorned with the gifts of grace and nature: so that our
cheer was more than sufficient; and yet much less than they could afford
us. There stayed there four days, four Earls, one Lord, divers Knights
and Gentlemen, and their servants, footmen and horses; and every meal
four long tables furnished with all varieties: our first and second
course being three score dishes at one board; and after that always a
banquet: and there if I had not forsworn wine till I came to _Edinburgh_
I think I had there drunk my last.

The fifth day with much ado we gate from thence to _Tarnaway_, a goodly
house of the Earl of _Murrays_,[26] where that Right Honourable Lord and
his Lady did welcome us four days more. There was good cheer in all
variety, with somewhat more than plenty for advantage: for indeed the
County of _Murray_ is the most pleasantest and plentiful country in all
_Scotland_; being plain land, that a coach may be driven more than four
and thirty miles one way in it, alongst by the sea-coast.

From thence I went to _Elgin_ in _Murray_,[27] an ancient City, where
there stood a fair and beautiful church with three steeples, the walls
of it and the steeples all yet standing; but the roofs, windows, and
many marble monuments and tombs of honourable and worthy personages all
broken and defaced: this was done in the time when ruin bare rule, and
Knox knocked down churches.

From _Elgin_ we went to the Bishop of _Murray_ his house which is called
_Spiny_, or _Spinay_: a Reverend Gentleman he is, of the noble name of
_Douglas_, where we were very well welcomed, as befitted the honour of
himself and his guests.

From thence we departed to the Lord Marquess of _Huntlys_ to a sumptuous
house of his, named the _Bog of Geethe_, where our entertainment was
like himself, free, bountiful and honourable. There (after two days
stay) with much entreaty and earnest suit, I gate leave of the Lords to
depart towards _Edinburgh_: the Noble Marquess, the Earl of _Mar_,
_Murray_, _Enzie_, _Buchan_, and the Lord _Erskine_; all these, I thank
them, gave me gold to defray my charges in my journey.

So after five and thirty days hunting and travel I returning, past by
another stately mansion of the Lord Marquesses, called _Stroboggy_, and
so over _Carny_ mount to _Brechin_, where a wench that was born deaf and
dumb came into my chamber at midnight (I being asleep) and she opening
the bed, would feign have lodged with me: but had I been a
_Sardanapalus_, or a _Heliogabulus_, I think that either the great
travel over the mountains had tamed me; or if not, her beauty could
never have moved me. The best parts of her were, that her breath was as
sweet as sugar-candian,[28] being very well shouldered beneath the
waste; and as my hostess told me the next morning, that she had changed
her maiden-head for the price of a bastard not long before. But
howsoever, she made such a hideous noise, that I started out of my
sleep, and thought that the Devil had been there: but I no sooner knew
who it was, but I arose, and thrust my dumb beast out of my chamber; and
for want of a lock or a latch, I staked up my door with a great chair.

Thus having escaped one of the seven deadly sins as at _Brechin_, I
departed from thence to a town called _Forfor_; and from thence to
_Dundee_, and so to _Kinghorn_, _Burntisland_, and so to _Edinburgh_,
where I stayed eight days, to recover myself of falls and bruises, which
I received in my travel in the Highland mountainous hunting. Great
welcome I had showed me all my stay at _Edinburgh_, by many worthy
gentlemen, namely, old Master _George Todrigg_, Master _Henry
Livingston_, Master _James Henderson_, Master _John Maxwell_, and a
number of others, who suffered me to want no wine or good cheer, as may
be imagined.

Now the day before I came from _Edinburgh_, I went to _Leith_, where I
found my long approved and assured good friend Master _Benjamin Jonson_,
at one Master _John Stuarts_ house; I thank him for his great kindness
towards me: for at my taking leave of him, he gave me a piece of gold of
two and twenty shillings[29] to drink his health in _England_. And
withal, willed me to remember his kind commendations to all his friends:
So with a friendly farewell, I left him as well, as I hope never to see
him in a worse estate: for he is amongst noblemen and gentlemen that
know his true worth, and their own honours, where, with much respective
love he is worthily entertained.

So leaving _Leith_ I returned to _Edinburgh_, and within the port or
gate, called the _Nether-Bow_, I discharged my pockets of all the money
I had: and as I came pennyless within the walls of that city at my first
coming thither; so now at my departing from thence, I came moneyless out
of it again; having in company to convey me out, certain gentlemen,
amongst the which Master _James Acherson_, Laird of _Gasford_, a
gentleman that brought me to his house, where with great entertainment
he and his good wife did welcome me.

On the morrow he sent one of his men to bring me to a place called
_Adam_, to Master _John Acmootye_ his house, one of the Grooms of his
Majesty's Bed-chamber; where with him and his two brethren, Master
_Alexander_, and Master _James Acmootye_, I found both cheer and
welcome, not inferior to any that I had had in any former place.

Amongst our viands that we had there, I must not forget the Sole and
Goose (_sic_), a most delicate fowl, which breeds in great abundance in
a little rock called the _Bass_, which stands two miles into the sea. It
is very good flesh, but it is eaten in the form as we eat oysters,
standing at a side-board, a little before dinner, unsanctified without
grace; and after it is eaten, it must be well liquored with two or three
good rouses[30] of sherry or canary sack. The Lord or owner of the
_Bass_ doth profit at the least two hundred pound yearly by those geese;
the _Bass_ itself being of a great height, and near three quarters of a
mile in compass, all fully replenished with wild fowl, having but one
small entrance into it, with a house, a garden, and a chapel in it; and
on the top of it a well of pure fresh water.

From _Adam_, Master _John_ and Master _James Acmootye_ went to the town
of _Dunbar_ with me, where ten Scottish pints of wine were consumed,
and brought to nothing for a farewell: there at Master _James Baylies_
house I took leave, and Master _James Acmootye_ coming for _England_,
said, that if I would ride with, that neither I nor my horse should want
betwixt that place and _London_. Now I having no money nor means for
travel, began at once to examine my manners and my want: at last my want
persuaded my manners to accept of this worthy gentleman's undeserved
courtesy. So that night he brought me to a place called _Cockburnspath_,
where we lodged at an inn, the like of which I dare say, is not in any
of his Majesty's Dominions. And for to show my thankfulness to Master
_William Arnot_ and his wife, the owners thereof, I must explain their
bountiful entertainment of guests, which is this:

Suppose ten, fifteen, or twenty men and horses come to lodge at their
house, the men shall have flesh, tame and wild fowl, fish with all
variety of good cheer, good lodging, and welcome; and the horses shall
want neither hay or provender: and at the morning at their departure the
reckoning is just nothing. This is this worthy gentlemen's use, his
chief delight being only to give strangers entertainment _gratis_: and I
am sure, that in _Scotland_ beyond _Edinburgh_, I have been at houses
like castles for building; the master of the house his beaver being his
blue bonnet, one that will wear no other shirts, but of the flax that
grows on his own ground, and of his wife's, daughters', or servants'
spinning; that hath his stockings, hose, and jerkin of the wool of his
own sheep's backs; that never (by his pride of apparel) caused mercer,
draper, silk-man, embroiderer, or haberdasher to break and turn
bankrupt: and yet this plain home-spun fellow keeps and maintains
thirty, forty, fifty servants, or perhaps, more, every day relieving
three or fourscore poor people at his gate; and besides all this, can
give noble entertainment for four or five days together to five or six
earls and lords, besides knights, gentlemen and their followers, if they
be three or four hundred men, and horse of them, where they shall not
only feed but feast, and not feast but banquet, this is a man that
desires to know nothing so much, as his duty to God and his King, whose
greatest cares are to practise the works of piety, charity, and
hospitality: he never studies the consuming art of fashionless fashions,
he never tries his strength to bear four or five hundred acres on his
back at once, his legs are always at liberty, not being fettered with
golden garters, and manacled with artificial roses, whose weight
(sometime) is the last reliques of some decayed Lordship: Many of these
worthy housekeepers there are in _Scotland_, amongst some of them I was
entertained; from whence I did truly gather these aforesaid
observations.

So leaving _Cockburnspath_, we rode to _Berwick_, where the worthy old
Soldier and ancient Knight, Sir _William Bowyer_, made me welcome, but
contrary to his will, we lodged at an Inn, where Master _James Acmootye_
paid all charges: but at _Berwick_ there was a grievous chance happened,
which I think not fit the relation to be omitted.

In the river of _Tweed_, which runs by _Berwick_, are taken by fishermen
that dwell there, infinite numbers of fresh salmons, so that many
households and families are relieved by the profit of that fishing; but
(how long since I know not) there was an order that no man or boy
whatsoever should fish upon a Sunday: this order continued long amongst
them, till some eight or nine weeks before Michaelmas last, on a Sunday,
the salmons played in such great abundance in the river, that some of
the fishermen (contrary to God's law and their own order) took boats and
nets and fished, and caught near three hundred salmons; but from that
time until Michaelmas day that I was there, which was nine weeks, and
heard the report of it, and saw the poor people's miserable
lamentations, they had not seen one salmon in the river; and some of
them were in despair that they should never see any more there;
affirming it to be God's judgment upon them for the profanation of the
Sabbath.

The thirtieth of September we rode from _Berwick_ to _Belford_ from
_Belford_ to _Alnwick_, the next day from _Alnwick_ to _Newcastle_,
where I found the noble Knight, Sir _Henry Witherington_; who, because I
would have no gold nor silver, gave me a bay mare, in requital of a loaf
of bread that I had given him two and twenty years before, at the Island
of _Flores_, of the which I have spoken before. I overtook at
_Newcastle_ a great many of my worthy friends, which were all coming for
_London_, namely, Master _Robert Hay_, and Master _David Drummond_,
where I was welcomed at Master _Nicholas Tempests_ house. From
_Newcastle_ I rode with those gentlemen to _Durham_, to _Darlington_, to
_Northallerton_, and to _Topcliffe_ in _Yorkshire_, where I took my
leave of them, and would needs try my pennyless fortunes by myself, and
see the city of _York_, where I was lodged at my right worshipful good
friend, Master Doctor _Hudson_ one of his Majesty's chaplains, who went
with me, and shewed me the goodly Minster Church there, and the most
admirable, rare-wrought, unfellowed[31] chapter house.

From _York_ I rode to _Doncaster_, where my horses were well fed at the
Bear, but myself found out the honorable Knight, Sir _Robert Anstruther_
at his father-in-law's, the truly noble Sir _Robert Swifts_ house, he
being then High Sheriff of _Yorkshire_, where with their good Ladies,
and the right Honourable the Lord _Sanquhar_, I was stayed two nights
and one day, Sir _Robert Anstruther_ (I thank him) not only paying for
my two horses' meat, but at my departure, he gave me a letter to
_Newark_ upon _Trent_, twenty eight miles in my way, where Master
_George Atkinson_ mine host made me as welcome, as if I had been a
French Lord, and what was to be paid, as I called for nothing, I paid as
much; and left the reckoning with many thanks to Sir _Robert
Anstruther_.

So leaving _Newark_, with another gentleman that overtook me, we came at
night to _Stamford_, to the sign of the Virginity (or the Maidenhead)
where I delivered a letter from the Lord _Sanquhar_; which caused Master
_Bates_ and his wife, being the master and mistress of the house, to
make me and the gentleman that was with me great cheer for nothing.

From _Stamford_ the next day we rode to _Huntington_, where we lodged at
the Postmaster's house, at the sign of the Crown; his name is _Riggs_.
He was informed who I was, and wherefore I undertook this my pennyless
progress: wherefore he came up to our chamber, and supped with us, and
very bountifully called for three quarts of wine and sugar, and four
jugs of beer. He did drink and begin healths like a horse-leech and
swallowed down his cups without feeling, as if he had had the dropsy, or
nine pound of sponge in his maw. In a word, as he is a post, he drank
post, striving and calling by all means to make the reckoning great, or
to make us men of great reckoning. But in his payment he was tired like
a jade, leaving the gentleman that was with me to discharge the terrible
shot, or else one of my horses must have lain in pawn for his
superfluous calling, and unmannerly intrusion.

But leaving him, I left _Huntington_, and rode on the Sunday to
_Puckeridge_, where Master _Holland_ at the Falcon, (mine old
acquaintance) and my loving and ancient host gave me, my friend, my man,
and our horses excellent cheer, and welcome, and I paid him with, not a
penny of money.

The next day I came to _London_, and obscurely coming within Moorgate, I
went to a house and borrowed money: and so I stole back again to
_Islington_, to the sign of the Maidenhead,[32] staying till Wednesday,
that my friends came to meet me, who knew no other, but that Wednesday
was my first coming; where with all love I was entertained with much
good cheer: and after supper we had a play of the Life and Death of _Guy
of Warwick_,[33] played by the Right Honourable the Earl of _Derby_ his
men. And so on the Thursday morning being the fifteenth of October, I
came home to my house in _London_.


[Decorative thought break]




THE EPILOGUE TO ALL MY ADVENTURERS AND OTHERS.


   Thus did I neither spend, or beg, or ask,
   By any course, direct or indirectly:
   But in each tittle I performed my task,
   According to my bill most circumspectly.
   I vow to God, I have done SCOTLAND wrong,
   (And (justly) against me it may bring an action)
   I have not given it that right which doth belong,
   For which I am half guilty of detraction:
   Yet had I wrote all things that there I saw,
   Misjudging censures would suppose I flatter,
   And so my name I should in question draw,
   Where asses bray, and prattling pies do chatter:
   Yet (armed with truth) I publish with my pen,
   That there the Almighty doth his blessings heap,
   In such abundant food for beasts and men;
   That I ne'er saw more plenty or more cheap.
   Thus what mine eyes did see, I do believe;
   And what I do believe, I know is true:
   And what is true unto your hands I give,
   That what I give, may be believed of you.
   But as for him that says I lie or dote,
   I do return, and turn the lie in's throat.
     Thus gentlemen, amongst you take my ware,
     You share my thanks, and I your moneys share.

        _Yours in all observance and gratefulness,

              ever to be commanded_,

                   JOHN TAYLOR.


FINIS.

[Decoration]


[Footnote 1: PROVANT.--Provender; provision.]

[Footnote 2: FEGARY.--A vagary.]

[Footnote 3: TRUNDLE.--_i.e._, John Trundle of the sign of _No-body_
(see note page 6).]

[Footnote 4: It is reasonable to conjecture that at this date the custom
of "Swearing-in at Highgate was not in vogue--or, _No-body_ would have
taken the oath.]

[Footnote 5: NAMED LEAN AND FEN.--Some jest is intended here on the
Host's name.--Qy., Leanfen, or, the anagram of A. FENNEL.]

[Footnote 6: NO-BODY was the singular sign of John Trundle, a
ballad-printer in Barbican in the seventeenth century [and who seems to
have accompanied our author as far as _Whetstone_ on his "Penniless
Pilgrimage"--and, certainly up to this point a very "wet" one!] In one
of Ben Jonson's plays Nobody is introduced, "attyred in a payre of
Breeches, which were made to come up to his neck, with his armes out at
his pockets and cap drowning his face." This comedy was "printed for
John Trundle and are to be sold at his shop in Barbican at the sygne of
No-Body." A unique ballad, preserved in the Miller Collection at
Britwell House, entitled "The Well-spoken No-body," is accompanied by a
woodcut representing a ragged barefooted fool on pattens, with a torn
money-bag under his arm, walking through a chaos of broken pots, pans,
bellows, candlesticks, tongs, tools, windows, &c. Above him is a scroll
in black-letter:--

"Nobody.is.my.Name.that.Beyreth.Every.Bodyes.Blame."

The ballad commences as follows:--

   "Many speke of Robin Hoode that never shott in his bowe,
   So many have layed faultes to me, which I did never knowe;
           But nowe, beholde, here I am,
           Whom all the worlde doeth diffame;
           Long have they also scorned me,
           And locked my mouthe for speking free.
           As many a Godly man they have so served
           Which unto them God's truth hath shewed;
           Of such they have burned and hanged some.
           That unto their ydolatrye wold not come:
           The Ladye Truthe they have locked in cage,
           Saying of her Nobodye had knowledge.
           For as much nowe as they name Nobodye
           I thinke verilye they speke of me:
           Whereffore to answere I nowe beginne--
           The locke of my mouthe is opened with ginne,
           Wrought by no man, but by God's grace,
           Unto whom be prayse in every place," &c.

Larwood and Hotten's _History of Signboards_.]

[Footnote 7: PULSE.--All sorts of leguminous seeds.]

[Footnote 8: See Dedication to _The Scourge of Baseness_.]

[Footnote 9: MASTER DOCTOR HOLLAND.--The once well-known Philemon
Holland, Physician, and "Translator-General of his Age," published
translations of Livy, 1600; Pliny's "Natural History," 1601; Camden's
"Britannica," &c. He is said to have used in translation more paper and
fewer pens than any other writer before or since, and who "would not let
Suetonius be Tranquillus." Born at Chelmsford, 1551; died 1636.]

[Footnote 10: EDMUND BRANTHWAITE.--Robert Branthwaite, William
Branthwaite _Cant._, and "Thy assured friend" R. B., have each written
Commendatory Verses to ALL THE WORKS OF JOHN TAYLOR. London 1630. And
Southey in his "Lives and Works of Uneducated Poets," has the
following:--"One might have hoped in these parts for a happy meeting
between John Taylor and Barnabee, of immortal memory; indeed it is
likely that the Water-Poet and the Anti-Water-Poet were acquainted, and
that the latter may have introduced him to his connections hereabout,
Branthwaite being the same name as Brathwait, and Barnabee's brother
having married a daughter of this Sir John Dalston."]

[Footnote 11: PIERCE PENNILESS, by Thomas Nash. London, 1592.]

[Footnote 12: This "ordnance of iron" still exists there, and is
historically known as "Mons Meg" and popularly as "Long Meg."]

[Footnote 13: RECEITE.--A receptacle.]

[Footnote 14: VAUSTITY.--Emptiness.]

[Footnote 15: _See_ Anderson's The Cold Spring of Kinghorn Craig, Edinb.
1618.]

[Footnote 16: CORYATIZING.--Thomas Coryate, an English traveller, who
called himself the "Odcombian leg-stretcher." He was the son of the
rector of Odcombe, and in 1611 published an account of his travels on
the Continent with the singular title of "Coryates Crudities. Hastily
gobled up in five Moneths travells in France, Savoy, Italy, Rhetia,
commonly called the Grisons country, Helvetia, alias Switzerland, some
parts of high Germany, and the Netherlands; Newly digested in the
hungary aire of Odcombe in the county of Somerset, and now dispersed to
the nourishment of the travelling members of this Kingdome, &c. London,
printed by W. S., Anno Domini 1611." Taylor had an especial grudge
against Coryat, for having had influence enough to procure his "Laugh
and be Fat"--directed against the traveller--to be burned; and that he
never failed to "feed fat the ancient grudge," may be seen in the many
pieces of ridicule levelled at the author of the "Crudities," even after
his death.]

[Footnote 17: TOPHET.--The Hebrew name for _Hell_.]

[Footnote 18: CIMMERIAN.--Pertaining to the Cimmerii, or their country;
extremely and perpetually dark. The Cimmerii were an ancient people of
the land now called the Crimea, and their country being subject to heavy
fogs, was fabled to be involved in deep and continual obscurity. Ancient
poets also mention a people of this name who dwelt in a valley near Lake
Avernus, in Italy, which the sun was said never to visit.]

[Footnote 19: PERTH.]

[Footnote 20: BRAEMAR.]

[Footnote 21: VIRGINAL JACK.--A keyed instrument resembling a spinet.]

[Footnote 22: RED-SHANKS.--A contemptuous appellation for Scottish Highland
clansmen and native Irish, with reference to their naked hirsute limbs, and
"As lively as a _Red-Shank_" is still a proverbial saying:--"And we came into
Ireland, where they would have landed in the north parts. But I would
not, because there the inhabitants were all _Red-shanks_."--_Sir Walter
Raleigh's_ Speech on the Scaffold.]

[Footnote 23: PUT ME INTO THAT SHAPE.--That is, invested him in Highland
attire.]

[Footnote 24: "Probably the district around the skirts of Ben
Muicdui."--_Chambers'_ Domestic Annals of Scotland.]

[Footnote 25: BALLOCH CASTLE.--Now called Castle-Grant.]

[Footnote 26: MORAY.]

[Footnote 27: MORAYLAND.]

[Footnote 28: SUGAR-CANDIAN.--_i.e._, Sugar-candy.]

[Footnote 29: A PIECE OF GOLD OF TWO-AND-TWENTY SHILLINGS.--"This was a
considerable present; but Jonson's hand and heart were ever open to his
acquaintance. All his pleasures were social; and while health and
fortune smiled upon him, he was no niggard either of his time or talents
to those who needed them. There is something striking in Taylor's
concluding sentence, when the result of his (Jonson's) visit to Drummond
is considered:--but there is one _evil that walks_, which keener eyes
than John's have often failed to discover.--I have only to add, in
justice to this honest man (Taylor) that his gratitude outlived the
subject of it. He paid the tribute of a verse to his benefactor's
memory:--the verse indeed, was mean: but poor Taylor had nothing better
to give."--Lt. Col. Francis Cunningham's edition of Gifford's Ben
Jonson's Works, p. xli.

"In the summer of 1618 Scotland received a visit from the famous Ben
Jonson. The burly Laureate walked all the way, among the motives for a
journey then undertaken by few Englishmen, might be curiosity regarding
a country from which he knew that his family was derived, his
grandfather having been one of the Johnsons of Annandale. He had many
friends too, particularly among the connections of the Lennox family,
whom he might be glad to see at their own houses. Among those with whom
he had amicable intercourse, was William Drummond, the poet, then in the
prime of life, and living as a bachelor in his romantic mansion of
Hawthornden, on the Esk, seven miles from Edinburgh. It is probable that
Drummond and Jonson had met before in London, and indulged together in
the "wit-combats" at the Mermaid and similar scenes. Indeed, there is a
prevalent belief in Scotland that it was mainly to see Drummond at
Hawthornden that Jonson came so far from home, and certain it is, from
Drummond's report of his '_Conversations_,' that he designed 'to write a
Fisher or Pastoral (Piscatory?) Play--and make the stage of it on the
Lomond Lake--he also contemplated writing in prose his 'Foot Pilgrimage
to Scotland,' which, with a feeling very natural in one who found so
much to admire where so little had been known, he spoke of entitling 'A
DISCOVERY.' Unfortunately, this work, as well as a poem in which he
called Edinburgh--

     'The Heart of Scotland, Britain's other eye,'

has not been preserved to us. We can readily see that the work
contemplated must have been of a general character, from Jonson's
letters to Drummond on the subject of it. How much to be regretted that
we have not the Scotland of that day delineated by so vigorous a pen as
that of the author of _Sejanual_"--_Chambers'_ Domestic
Annals of Scotland, vol. 1.

Whether Taylor's "Penniless Pilgrimage" really did interfere with, and
prevent the publication of Ben Jonson's 'Foot Pilgrimage' would now be
difficult to say. It is very evident from Taylor's remarks in his
Dedication "To all my loving adventurers, &c.," he had been accused by
the critics that he "_did undergo this project, either in malice, or
mockage of Master Benjamin Jonson_." It is quite certain that Taylor
lost no time in getting his "Pilgrimage" printed "at the charges of the
author" immediately on his return to London on the fifteenth of October
1618.]

[Footnote 30: ROUSE.--A full glass, a bumper.]

[Footnote 31: UNFELLOWED.--_i.e._, not matched.]

[Footnote 32: TO ISLINGTON TO THE SIGN OF THE MAINDENHEAD.--This then
roadside Public-house, we are informed from recent enquiries, was
situate at the corner of Maiden Lane, Battle Bridge, now known as King's
Cross, from a statue of George IV.--a most execrable performance taken
down 1842. The "Old Pub" is turned into a gin palace, and named the
Victoria, while Maiden Lane--an ancient way leading from Battle Bridge
to Highgate Hill--is known now as York Road.]

[Footnote 33: GUY OF WARWICK.--There are several versions and editions of
this work. In the book of the Stationers' Company, John Trundle--he at
the sign of NO-BODY--on the 15th of January, 1619, entered "a play,
called the Life and Death of Guy Earl of Warwick, written by John Day
and Thomas Dekker." See Baker's Biog. Dram., page 274, vol. 2.--"Well,
if he read this with patience I'll be gelt, and troll ballads for Master
Trundle yonder, the rest of my mortality."--_Ben Jonson's_ Every Man in
his Humour, act i. sc. 2.]


Corrections Made by Transcriber

     Page 16, line 16: "hls" changed to "his."
     Page 36: "forgotton" changed to "forgotten."
     Page 46: "musquitoes" changed to "mosquitoes."
     Footnote 6, last line of poem: "he" changed to "be."
     Page 46: Orphaned right parenthesis removed.





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pennyles Pilgrimage, by John Taylor

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