MAYERES HIS TRAVELS: Containing a true Recapitulation of all the remarkable passages which befell in the Author's Peregrination and Voyages, as namely in these Employments following: viz. his 1 Voyage for the wars in Ireland in Queen E. R. 2 At Breda, under one of the four English Colonel Regiments. 3 With Count Mansfield. 4 To Cales. 5 To the I'll of Rhee. Whereunto is added a speech the Author held with great King Hunger in his journey over the Alps. Collected and written by him who was both an actor, and an eye witness in the above named several employments, the space of forty years, R. M. S. Gent. Published with Licence and Authority. LONDON, Printed by T. H. for Richard Harper, and are to 〈…〉 TO THE RIGHT Worshipful and much honoured john Potham, Knight and Baronet, a poor Soldier wisheth all happiness in this life, and eternal felicity in the life to come. RIGHT WORSHIPFUL, IT is said that the silly Wren, the least of all Birds, takes her chiefest shelter under the Eagles wings, and that the Princely Unicorn delighting in Music would stand still to hear (after the sweet singing Philomela had sounded out her melodious and silver sounding tunes) the poor Thrush to warble out her chat, and so sometimes, that great Augustus (who made the World to tremble) would vouchsafe to hear and read, the homely work of a rustic Shepherd, aswell as the learned and lofty Verse of Virgil: All which imboldneth me (poor Vassal) to dedicate this poor Pamphlet, being the tragical discourse of my lives Catastrophe to your noble self, Verse I dare not call, neither prose; it is but a poor, plain, brief and true rehearsal of my disasters in that little service and poor travel that I have undergone, being the space of forty years: Beseeching your noble self, to be the Eagle, to shelter this my poor Wren-like work, under the shadow of your loving wings; and to hear the Rural tune of a poor Rustic Soldier clattering in an Iron coat, aswell as Orpheus with his dainty Music, clad in a Peacock coloured suit, singing out his delighting Sirens songs more than Philomela like, and as Augustus to deign to look down so low, as to take the view of tragical discourse of a poor soldiers unfortunate passages, as the thrice noble verse of learned Spenser, Draiton, and their fellows: happy shall I think myself, if you will not be displeased at my presumption, but much more happy shall I be, if your Worship will but give my poor widow's mite your kind and favourable acceptance: I hope the better, in regard I found your favour once in Bohemia, being utterly unknown, being then (as I am still) very poor, it was not then, nor is not now for any gift I sought or seek more than your noble and loving countenance, and respect. Thus will I rest, leaving your noble self to the Lords protection, and myself and my poor Catastrophe to the World's view, and sharp censure of many viporous and malignant tongues. Your Worships in all service, RANDULFH MAYERES. GEntle Reader, I entreat thee, that if thou findest any things amiss in this Catalogue of my disasters, and thyself couldst have done much better, laugh not this to scorn, but do that better thou canst do, and give the glory to God that hath given thee those better parts: for poor man that I am, what I have done, I have done it as no scholar but a poor soldier, not seen in any poetical Fiction, or Enigmatical invention, much less in any pathetical curiosity of dainty discourse, but plain as poor, for I can no better: Wherefore I beseech thee speak sparingly, censure lovingly, judge charitably of a poor unlearned soldier's Catastrophe: he is one that will not wrong thee nor no man, but favours all, hates none, loves God, honours his King and Country, and hopes to die in God's fear, and after to live with him in glory, and so I rest thine in all duty, R. M. TO be a soldier, is an honour; such As all may speak but none commend too much. To be a Poet, that doth far transcend Mortality: Man, hath his proposed end: But the Muse is immortal, upward flying To what is everlasting, never dying. But where these, in one Centre shall combine, Though soldiers terrene, and the Muse divine; Yet both of them make a sweet harmony, 'Twixt Mars the god of war, and Mercury. Great Caesar, famed in many a glorious sight, Still, what he did by day wrote down by night And was his own Chronologer: what he Deserved in that, may be conferred on thee (My worthy Friend) who nothing here sett'st (But as it justly may be called thine own) So, of those passages thou dost descry down, Thou hast been witness, both in ear and eye. In the French wars thou hast an Actor been, And in the Irish, served the Maiden Queen Eliza, of blessed memory: the scars Thou wear'st about thee of the Belgic wars, Thou also wast a sharer in the fate Of the sad loss, in the Palatinate, Thy worthy service hath been known to be Both in Cales Voyage, and the Isle Del-ree. And needs must thou immortal glory win, To give so fair account where thou hast been, Both Arms and Arts thy meeter doth express, In thy praise therefore I could write no less. Th. Haywood. Humphrey Crouch To the Author Master Randulph Mayres. TO thee brave Mayres whose spirit's not confined Within the limits of a coward's mind, For as the Elements of fire and water, When as they meet do strive which shall be greater, So fear and valour in a soldier's breast, Do strive in volentars, and some that's pressed, But like a flash of lightning valour did Put life in thee, when fear struck others dead, In a good cause valour made thee resolved, To venture forth which made thee be extolled, And what thy youth performed in field and town, Now crowns thy age with honour and renown, To try the worst of ills thou tookst a pride, As this Book shows which cannot be denied, Hard lodging, hunger, cold, could not displant thee, Nor yet grim death himself could ever daunt thee, When cowards fled, and some that stayed proved base, Thou stout didst brave King Hunger to his face, Thy daring heart did climb the Alps so high, Not high enough for thee, I grieve that I Want matter to extol thee as I should, Whose name deserveth to be writ in gold. The losing of Breda is thy relating, The I'll of Ree which set the French a prating: That though our men were beaten from that coast, Thou show'st the French have no great cause to And since to talk of wars is thy delight: All the Bohemian wars thou dost recite, boast, Thou being an eyewitness of these things, The news unto thy native Country brings. Rest (worthy man) from all thy pains and toils, For age, we know, the stoutest soldier foils. To the gentle Reader of Master Randulph Mayeres his travels. GEntle Spectators of this Pamphlet small, The Author doth desire no praise at all, His works praise him so worthily he writes, To read his travels he the world incites, The name of Poet he doth here refuse, Yet we may understand he hath a Muse. Soldier and Scholar, it seems he is belike, For he can use his pen as well as Pike, He is no Venus' Darling, you shall know it, A son of Mars, a Soldier, and a Poet: So then regardless of vain Critics cavils, Honour his person, and read o'er his travels. H. C. Imprimatur. Th. Wykes. May 12. 1638. 1 MY Muse is mounted and perforce will write, Putting me on, to write some new found thing, But I cannot from a shallow brain indite Any that's new, but must old tidings bring: Yet still my Muse, she doth me much reprove And bids me cease, unless I write of love. 1 Nothing in this age is so delightful as love-toys, and lascivious rhymes, wherein youth takes his chiefest felicity, for Venus the great Goddess of Love, with her three children base begotten, as Pride, Beauty, and Riches, with her near Kinsman the great god Bacchus at her elbow, bears all the sway in these days: so that one sheet of paper is more valued writ as a Love-toy, than a Ream of paper writ in this nature. 2 And tells me that, Bellona's banished clear, And hides her face, even as a coward base And dare not once the goddess Love come near, For love not war is holden all in grace: But yet I cannot, but of war must speak, And not of love although my heart should break. 2 Yet could I wish the wise to consider that as Venus hath her three delightful Daughters, and a frolic Kinsman: So hath the Goddess Bellona's three Handmaids, Fire, Sword, and Famine, which being sent abroad: make such havoc of Venus' Images, as nothing then, is so much in respect as Mars his messengers, which indeed is poor soldiers, which in this age is most of all men rejected: and disrespected, unless it be of some noble spirits, and the learned Patrons of divine Contemptations, & Managers of Martial affairs. 3 Nor can I write as Satirists use to do, Against what, not some harsh invective verse, Nor strive I can to put my Muse unto The pleasure of fair Venus to rehearse: Nor can I write, as fittest is indeed, Of bloody Mars, oft made my body bleed. 4 Then Muse give leave, for I am minded now, To warble out the whole Catastrophey Of the disasters I have wandered through, They are intricate as is Menander's way, A Labyrinth wherein I have laboured sore, And yet my labour still is more and more. 4 I call this my Catastrophe, for that it is the rehearsal of all, or most what of my lives passage since I was able to bear Arms as a Soldier, being a tragical discourse of a Soldier, a Traveller, a Prisoner, a Pilgrim, a Beggar, and in some small measure a poor Scholar. 5 My labour hath been for to travel much, To search the secrets on this Orb of earth, But yet, alas, my sorrows they were such In Lethe's ditoh, that I have, lost my breath: For nothing find I but the rolling stone, That had no moss, nor none will grow upon. 5 This ditch or flood of Lethe, is the ditch or flood of all forgetfulness: which made me forget my sorrows so quickly. The stone of Sisyphus is always turning, yet never gets any thing unless it be filth, but is still barer and barer, and so am I 6 A Scholar once I did desire to be In learning lore I took a great delight, But ere the virtue, therein I could see The States to me bore such a deadly spite, Before my portion I could half possess, They took it from me, left me motherless. 6 My mother died ere I came to any perfection in learning, which was my undoing. 7 Then being young and fresh in youthful years, My mind so green with every wave was tossed Which to repent I do with many tears, To see how fond I my time then lost, And eke how vainly I my time did spend, And never thought, how want would come i'th' end. 7 I thought of no want, when I went first to the wars, which now makes me come home by weeping cross, more is my sorrow. 8 For nothing then would relish with my taste, But what was got in great Bellona's wars Instead of Pen, with Pike my time I waste, Still searching out where Mars did keep his jars Till means & friends & hopes & all were gone Then old and maimed I returned home. 8 He that puts the hazard of his fortunes being young, to the hope of friends comfort being old, is more like to die a beggar in contempt, then at his death to give a dole to the poor to gain him commendation. 9 Where that I hoped, I should justly find True recompense for loss of means, and blood, Since for my Nation I have been so kind, To venture life and limb for Country's good, But I instead of love and courtesy Received loss, pain, grief and misery. 9 Here I end my Exordium. 10 But to begin my catalogue of woe, And of the sorrows I have undergone, And of my service done against my foe, Of all the passage, you shall hear anon, Tho simply done, pardon my want of skill, It is the truth accept it for good will. 10 And begin my catalogue. 11 It is no Poem nor no Pamphlet rude, The one I cannot learning I do want, And into Pamphlets I durst ne'er intrude, Nor thrust myself, because my brain's to scant, To flourish up as Poets can do well, Such dainty phrases I could never tell. 11 I am no Poet, nor am I a Pamphlet-maker, I want learning for the one, and cunning practice & curious phrases for the other. 12 Yet Rural like the truth I will set forth, Poor as it is, made by as poor a man, And may be holden of as little worth, Because a Soldier seemeth time to scan: Into a verse to show the spite of fate, Which he hath bought at too too dear a rate. 12 Though it be not a work of Pean, I am sure it is not of Pan, for he was a rich shepherd, and I am a poor soldier, and this is mine own work truly, though never so homely. 13 For first of all a friend that was me near, Entreated me whom I could not deny, In Ireland in Arms for to appear In complete course my loyalty to try: In the behalf of that same noble Queen, Whose like (I think) on earth was never seen. 13 The first service that ever I was in, was in Ireland, at a place called the Curlewes, being then the great Oneile his Country, where was one of the worst days that the English had in Ireland: for there was lost Sir Coniers Clifford then Colonel, a noble Commander, Sir Alexander Radcliffe Lieutenant Colonel, and brave Sir james Harrington, all of high birth and very noble, with a world of English more, to the great grief of the Queen: There I stayed still, and served in diverse parts after, as at Dungannon where was good service, at the Isle of Muck, wherein going on was drowned Sir Samuel Bagnall his Ancient, which made many prognosticate worse success than fell out, also at Kinsale, where was a lamentable sore Leaguer, and a long, but a happy for us in the end. 14 For when my hopes in learning it was lost, I then took arms as holding it the best, Since Fortune had my towardness so crossed, I thought I could not be no better blessed Then for my Queen & honoured country fight, For to maintain their true and lawful right. 15 Though I but one, yet one must needs begin A number that is number numberless, Then a soldier needly must come in, To make the number be it more or less (For why) I played a soldiers faithful part, I did my best both with my hand and heart. 16 But after that a hard time I had been, A soldier there my Queen being dead & gone I got reward a shot may yet be seen, And that was all and then away did come Home into England to my Friends again, Who did disdain my service, love and pain. 16 At the Queen's death I came into England with a sore shot, not whole, yet as welcome to my friends, as the poor Mariner makes water into his ship, especially my stepmother. 17 And bade me go once more another Voyage, And see if that I could find any worse, For my own Father dear swore in his rage The day that I was born, that he would curse And rather wish me in untimely grave, Then I one hour, a future life should have. 18 When I poor soul, had done nothing at all But what was just and honourable both, And for defending the State general, The best I could my mind being very loath To do that thing, might not me well beseem, In the defence of Country and my Queen. 19 Which when I saw my Friend's obdurity, And that my entertainment it was such And saw nothing but present misery And that for love, my Friends hate me so much A wished that ere, I might here live in scorn, That I might die, where I was never born. 20 Then did I crave a Soldier pressed to be, Which was well liked by the better sort And did commend my love and duty free And to this day I have their good report That I would go unto the wars again, To venture life, ere live with Friends disdain. 20 After this new supplies went for Ireland, I was pressed to go again, not much unwillingly, seeing the refractory & harsh dealing of my dearest friends, for as the old saying is, In prosperity a friend is easily found, but in adversity not one of a thousand, so hath it been with me, for ever when I came into England with a full purse, the dearest and nearest Friends I had, would help me to spend it and make it empty, but when I came home poor, I was not for their company. 21 Which I did do, and then did much endure A second time in Ireland again And further means I never could procure, Save that I got my labour for my pain. For when Sir Cary Dougherthy was dead, I came to England forced to beg my bread. 21 I served in Ireland until the last Rebellion in Loughfoyle, beginning at the Diry by Sir Cary Dougherthy, in which time I served under the command of Sir Oliver Saint john, after Lord Deputy, also Sir Edward York, Sir Richard Hansard, Captain George Malary, & Sir George Flower. 22 Where that I found such simple courtesy, As caused me again to leave the land, And then I travailed into Italy, When noble Payton did our Force command, Under the Signior and Venetian State, Where I bought wit at such an extreme rate. 22 After my second time coming from Ireland, I found such poor respect of my friends that I traveled into Italy, and served under the English Regiment at Venice, Sir Henry Payton being General, my Captain was Billingsley. 23 As that I did, beside, my loss of blood, Endure the hard and cruel slavery Even of the Turks where I found nothing good, But all I got, was stripes and misery: But God in mercy, after a time was pleased▪ ay from the Turkish slavery was eased. 23 But going an unfortunate Voyage to Sea for desire of gain, I got instead a world of pain being taken prisoner by the Turks, where I remained a slave a long time, but by God's providence (beyond expectation of any humane reason, I was by the help of the Christians, released, to wit, a man of Florence, who brought me to Leghorn, a dainty Haven Town seated to the Sea upon the foot of the River Arno; which runs up from thence to the rare and goodly City Florence, but rather I may say the River Arno runs from Florence to Leghorn, being about fifty miles. 24 And did return to Florence City fair, Where now again I came to Italy, And was o'erjoyed to see that City rare, In my conceit the prime of Lombardie. Tho many praise some other Cities more, Yet do I think they are mistaken sore. 24 The saying is that Italy is the ganden of the World, and that Lombardy is the garden of Italy, and Florence, the garden of Lombardy, which indeed it is, for it is curious for building, delicately seated, and very bravely peopled and full of plenty, it hath in it a very stately Grand Dome, or Church all of pure chequer work white and black Marble corner wise set, there is a great and massy ball of beaten gold on the top of the high Steeple. 25 Tho Venice it be rich, and Genoa proud, Milan be learned, and Belogna brave, And mighty Rome for spaciousness abowed, Dainby, Verona, yet none of these you have: So Dainby fair, a curious seat to see, As Florence is within all Italy. 25 After I left Florence, I was at diverse curious Cities of marvellous beauty, of which I have named some, especially Genoa, where the marquis Spinola had a curious house. Genoa exceeds for high building any place that ever I saw. Milan is a dainty Academy, especially for Physic, and so is Mantua, Verona a very fine City, as also Bellogna, Brussia, Bargamore, and many others, Rome me thought was but a ragged great thing, and not very beautiful, the chiefest things of note is the Bridge of Tiber, and Saint Angelo's, the Pyramids, the Pope's Palace and his gilded gate, with the great and Metropolitan Church of Saint Peter: as also I must remember their Panthaon, which was the Temple of the old Roman gods, which is a mighty thing built round either for fear their gods should fall by the ears for prerogative Royal, as indeed it was, or else for fear they should run out at the West end of the Church like stout gods, and turn cowards. 26 But leaving Italy, thus after I Had been from England almost twice five years, I passed the Alps, those mighty Mountains high Where I did weep more drops of brinish tears, Then I got water for to drink that time, Saving cold snow to slake the thirst was mine. 26 I came out of Italy over the Alps in winter, where I was not perished so much with cold, but hungry, also being sixteen days without a bit of bread, coming Hanibals way when their was no Convoy, upon which I made the following Fiction. 27 Yet for my thirst it was not so extreme, But that I could have undergone the same, But for vild hunger, I could find no mean, It was so grievous and so much to blame, That I was glad to satisfy his force By eating bark from tree, & that was worse. 28 For I was glad passing that desert way, Which Hannibal (they say) for's Army made Weary by night, and travelling by day, Where many a filthy root my taste assayed, Before I came unto the Silvian Wood, Where comfort none I found, nor nothing good. 29 Betwixt these mountains & these desert woods, Me thought I heard a hollow sounding voice, Come from the crags whereas poor silly shrubs Do grow secure, there did I hear this noise: Even as an echo sounding forth to me, His name, his nature, and his quality. 30 Which when I heard, my senses was amazed 'Twixt hope & fear, (I stood) as one half dead To hear a voice out from those rocks so raised, To cry to me, and ask me for some bread: When I poor man, had nothing for to eat, Tears for my drink, and sorrow for my meat. 31 Alas (quoth I) my sorrow is too much, And thou art hunger, I do know thee well, I do not love companions to have such, Nay, stay (quoth he) a tale I must thee tell: How once in plenty thou didst make no spare Now hast thou hunger, nought else for thy share. A Speech made by the great King Hunger. 32 AM not I Hunger and of force will be, The great Commander of each Monarchy, When Pride doth come, with riches in his hand, Thinking my power he can perforce withstand What is my plot, to bring him down to bow And beck to me, (o) I shall tell thee how. Envy I send, and sweet Ambition both To pride and riches which are very loath To part with either, until they have brought, Both pride & riches and themselves to nought By mortal war, or by such vain desires As Envy, Pride, Ambition still requires Then do I laugh to see their bravery Brought down so low, as subject be to me And being subject brought unto my thrall, Their life is hateful, death is best of all. For though a mean, in all extremes there be, Yet their no mean, nor mercy found in me For I am hunger, and so extreme strong, I'll make the wife to do her husband wrong. Nay, I am hunger, and do prick so deep, I'll make the strongest heart on earth to weep: I'll make the naked man run as he were mad, To beg a crust, and of the same be glad To feed me hunger poor King that I am, And think himself more than a happy man. Nay, I command a strong beleaguered Citiy, And of their sorrows I do take no pity When fire and sword and all the wrath of man, Cannot them conquer, if I come I can Nay, I can make them with old Me●iana weep, And force them search even in the dunghill To find a Maggot if she be not their, To eat their children and to make good cheer, deep, And tyranny even such as this I do, Yet thou vild pride that puts me thereunto, For if thou pride, with riches would assent To give the poor, poor natures poor content, And keep thyself from foul ambitious hate, And be content and gripe no more estate, But help the poor, and hurt him not at all And come not in, base envies filthy thrall Which ruins kingdoms much more may do thee Although thou live in great security, And when I hunger, knocks, and lets thee see How that the poor is hunger-starved by me, If thou wouldst help them with thy poorest crumbs That from the dainties of thy table comes. What need I plead upon this woeful stage, But that it is a more than Iron-age, For pity mercy, and all love is fled, But pride and envy never will be dead, Until I cease upon their bodies brave, Then do I bring envy and pride to grave. Am not I King the strongest then on earth, Save only he which gives all vital breath? Which being said this (Hung) voice was gone, Yet I was left with hunger all alone. The end of this Fiction. 33 Now after nineteen days were quite over past, Those desert Hills and Woods I left them all, And unto Basil I did come at last, And then with, th' Rhine toward Germany did fall: And shortly came to Strasburgh City brave, Where loving entertainment that I have. 33 The first Town of note I came to on this side the Alps was Basil, being seated very high on the Rhine. 34 For there I found an English Gentleman, One Middleton a Corporal there was he, Who doth not spare, to do the best he can In any kind, then for to comfort me. For to a Gesthouse he me present sent, Where that I found good Christian like content. 34 Here at Strasburgh, I had kind entertainment, by the means of Master Middleton: I lay there in the Gesthouse being a very dainty stove to be in: reasonable good meat and wine, with curious good lodging, where I lay five days. 35 Here did I stay five days myself to ease And went to view the Church's fabric fair, And there I saw, the eye of man to please, The Sun and Moon, and Heavens by motion rare, How each from other doth pass and impart Strange for to see, all wrought by curious art. 35 Here in this Church is this work of wonder, for by motion you may see how the whole Orb moveth, also how the Sun and Moon passeth the Heavens, as also the four age of man, as infancy, youth, strength, and old ages, as also the four quarters of the year, as Spring, Summer, Harvest, and Winter, passing by motion with the four quarters of the hour, and then when the Clock strikes, the brazen Cock crows and claps his wings. 36 Besides the crowing of a brazen Cock, With dainty voice both audible and shrill, Once in an hour by motion as a Clock, And other wonders of exceeding skill, Beside the Steeple, being called they say, A wonder of the World as well it may. 36 For this Steeple it is builded eight square, exceeding high, all arches one upon another, so that which way soever you pass you may see quite through it, and for the curious workmanship to be in such a stone, I think the like is not to be seen. 37 For though the Church of Florence builded be Of checker-work, and Diamond wise to view, Also the steeple curious work to see, Graced with a ball of beaten gold so true: Yet it's not like to Strasburgh steeple fair, Nor for the building, it's not half so rare. 38 For that it is of such exceeding height, Arch bound most dainty to spectators view, Arch upon Arch by perfect art and sleight, He that ne'er saw it, scant will think it true, That such a work within the World were wrought, By mortal man, since man was made of nought. 39 Here did I see brought in by Burghers two A man (they said) was called the wand'ring jew But I with him, had nought at all to do, So that for me, he may be false or true, For what he was as then I did not care, My mind was more, my supper not to spare. 39 Here I saw this old Pilgrim, who Master Middleton told me was noted to be the wand'ring jew: but for my part I did take no great regard of him more than I have writ. 40 A black tall man of stature that he was, With visage stern, his colour pale and wan, And Pilgrim he both up and down did pass, Within the town where I did see him than, Groans, sighs & sobs, I heard him often give, But what of him (they said) I scarce believe. 41 This town environed with the noble Rhine, Governed by States within themselves all free And guarded strong by soldiers brave and fine, Stout men of body as a man shall see, Courteous and kind, to strangers that they be This can I say, for they were so to me. 41 This town of Strasburgh is a free State of itself, environed by the River Rhine a very strong thing, and a brave Garrison of soldiers in it well maintained: when I was there they wore red velvet Cassocks with the Flower Deluce in blue cloth, and edged with silver very comely. 42 So now to Saurine that I take my way, And through a desert and a mighty Wood, Unto Panspoyce, but there I could not stay, For there I found not any thing was good, But harbour cold, and courtesy so much I do not care, how seldom I have such. 42 I came by many other places I cannot name, also it is needless. 43 Then did I come to the Duke of Lorains land And to the dainty City of Nancie, Dainty it is and sweetly it doth stand For air most sweet and good commodity For Corn and Cattle, Wood, and water fair, It hath enough and can to others spare. 43 If this City of Nancie be not of late ruinated, it is as fine a little sweet thing as ever a man can see on earth for all outward blessings natural for man's content: a little before I came to it, I was at a great Monastery where was many English Jesuits, and other Priests called Saint Nicholai. 44 So now by Tow and Fow, Tholas, and Bar, I pass my way, with cold and hunger both, And though indeed I come my Country war To help my need, there's few, or none that doth Unless poor man I got a bit of bread Which few would give for to relieve my need. 45 So on I came unto the Champion Plain, Where fourteen days I travailed with woe, For nothing had I, all within the same, But what the Cloisters help me then unto Some meat and drink, and harbour poor I had, Tho it was poor, yet of it I was glad. 45 This Champion Country is a very scant Country for fire, but very rich of Corn especially, also there is pretty good store of hard wine to keep out the cold. 46 For winter it was cold, and I was poor, My clothing thin, and barefoot than I was, And all my limbs was numbed & grown so sore, That ten miles on a day I could not pass, Yet in the end I came to Paris City, Where I did find some comfort, love and pity. 46 I will speak nothing of these parts of France, being all in Picardy and Normandy, which every one almost knows they are so near hand. 47 So then to Roan where Merchants kind I found, And then to Deep a dainty Haven town Where I got shipping for our English ground, And came to Dover poor and eke unknown, But yet I had the Gesthouse courtesy, john Bangor then was in the majoralty. 47 john Bangor was Major, when I landed at Dover. 48 From him a Pass to London that I had, Being both poor, lame and in misery, Where when I came my heart indeed was glad, For there I got good clothes even presently: For that some moneys fell unto my lot, That former sorrows they were all for●ot. 49 Then news was come of the Bohemian wars. For which my mind was presently so bend That I would see, how there would go the jars, And did indeed, for thither that I went With noble Grace and many worthy men, Who did not come again not one of ten. 49 I went into Bohemia with Sir Andrew Grace being General we were not there long before all was lost, yet for the time there was some sharp doings and much loss. 50 For though indeed the service it was short, Because at first the hopes was very poor, Yet Pilsen it can tell there was brave sport, When all the ground with blood was turned gore, And Prague can say and other parts indeed, That in these wars many a brave heart did bleed. 51 Thus when I saw the hopes was poor and bare, No staying then at all, there was for me For nothing saw I fall unto my share, But service hard with want and misery: Away I came to the Palatinate, And for my welcome there a shot I got. 52 There was in service to defend the land Of Englishmen so brave a Regiment, Whom noble Vere, as General did command The like I never saw where ere I went. For of a hundred scarce you could find ten, But by their birth, or worth were Gentlemen. 53 Oxford and Essex noble Earls were there, And many Gallants under their command, Brave Rich and Wentworth and Burlassie were With Colours flying, fair in field did stand That noble Burroughs, & brave Herbert too, Fairfax and Wilmot all their best to do. 53 Never went a more noble company of voluntary soldiers out of England, then went to this Voyage of the Palatinate, and had worse success. 54 Knowls and kind Thornix they were not behind With many Gallants here to try their luck, And many more, who was of noble mind, Even as Bonithon and brave Captain Buck: Who came to look for honour in the field, For to the foe, that they would never yield. 55 Once here we had, hope of a noble day, And was prepared with the Foe to fight, When noble Oxford led our Vanguard way Having the Foe before us in our sight, Thinking none other but without all doubt, To end that war by then to fight it out. 55 This was the day that the Palatinate was lost, for if we had gone on, we had such vantage, every way, especially in horse, as also our soldiers very able, and as forward to go upon service, we had good store of Canon and all mounted, our horse had given fire to the enemy, we had all things just in readiness for the Battle: then marquis Baden being General of the Field betrayed the Country, and would not let us fight that night, so in the morning the enemy was fled and got his trenches, and so we lost all. 56 Our forlorn hopes were ready, all drawn forth And Doctor Burgess gave brave encouragement To all our soldiers, who was of that worth That all was ready, and to battle bend, But marquis Baden all our hopes then bard, And all our pastime for that day was marred. 57 For after that our Canon mounted was Fair for to play against the enemy, Also our horse fallen on: like hearts of brass, To show their valour and fidelity: And we were ready, both with hart & hand To fight our parts, as long as we could stand. 58 But present tidings came we should not fight, But every man his quarter fair should keep Because it grew, even some what to ward night, Which made the heart of many a soldier weep: To see how basely that same day was lost, Which did indeed the Palsgraves' Country cost. 59 For that same night, our foe their trenches got, Which was more safe than any Castle strong, Not caring then what we could do a jot, And in the same they did remain so long: Till that they had even so increased their force, That they were able to give us the worse. 60 For winter coming, and our force grew weak, Our fare being hard, and eke our payment bad, Our Captains then, with us did all betake, To several towns, and of the same were glad: And there we did in Garrison remain, Till we were forced to yield them up again. 61 But not with ease, this dare I tell you plain, Nor with the loss of small or little blood, But with hard war they did the Country gain, With woeful spoil, and but with little good: Town after town, when they were very poor, For until then, we would not give them over. 62 For there we kept unto Commission came From England's King unto our General, And Chichester that Lord brought him the same, With Frankindale we should deliver all: Then we with honour marched quite away, For in the country, there we might not stay. 62 After that most, nay, indeed all the Palatinate was lost both higher and lower, yet my Lord kept Frankindale till my Lord of Chichester brought Commission from King james, to deliver it up by way of composition. 63 Then every man had leave for to depart, Unto his Country or where liked him best, Being glad to march with poor and heavy heart, To find some place where he might take his rest, But many a man, this can I truly say Did lose his life, in coming thence away. 64 But God above, did then preserve me so That I got down along the noble Rhine, And did me keep even from the mortal Foe, That not one hurt I got in that same time, But safely came to Utrich where indeed I did get means for to relieve my need. 64 I got down the Rhine and came to utrich in the Netherlands, where I served Sir Ferdinando Knightley until I came for England, to go over with the four Regiments. 65 And here I stayed under the States a while, Being under pay, of noble Knightley he Thinking the best, and time so to beguile Till he thought good, his Pass to give to me, Then did I come to England's shore again, But here I stayed not long for to be plain. 66 For that four noble Peers were ready bend In foreign parts, their valour for to try, And each of them a warlike Regiment, Being men of courage and of spirits high, Oxford and Essex, and Southampton three, The fourth of these was noble Willoughby. 66 These four Peers had each a Regiment that went over at the first time Breda was beleaguered and won by the Enemy, and where (more was the pity) the Lord Henry Earl of Oxford, with over-heating himself at Treheyes Sconce, got such a vehement surfeit, that at the Hage in short time after he died: as also did the Earl of Southampton, and the young and noble Lord Wriothesley his son, to the great grief of all the whole Regiments. At this Voyage I got a shot in my head, and then I came for England. 67 These Nobles had Captains of high degree To follow them, being men of high renown, And each of them a worthy company, Of soldiers stout, & of brave courage known: But yet indeed this Voyage was not the best, Two of the Earls did die besides the rest. 68 That in this great exploit did hope for gains, And went with these same Lords their worths to try, But had no more, but death even for their pains As it did prove, and with them then went I, But yet I came a Fool as I did go, With one shot more, that I got from the Fo. 69 Then presently a press was new prepared, For noble Mansfield, dainty Voyage was that As ever was in any age yet heard: For hunger and extremes, I'll tell you what, Yet can I scarcely now the same rehearse (For why) I shame to put it in my verse. 69 This Voyage of mansfield's was the poorest that ever soldiers made, for if they had lost their lives in service and fair fight, it had redownded to their honour, but dying so basely as they did, being starved, was such a poor proceeding as hath not been hard of. 70 It was so poor and bad and base withal, That he declared I cannot well tell how, For noble Mansfield so I will him call, Was in no fault, this dare I swear and vow: He did his best, his soldiers to maintain, And honour to himself and them to gain. 71 For many went in this disastrous Voyage, Brave noble hearts, and valour truly tried, As noble Cromwell, Dutton, wise and sage, That honoured Ramsey, and gallant Rich beside, And Sir Ralph Hopton that same noble Knight Whose worth is more than I can write of right. 72 For when some others left their soldiers poor, Those that were his, and left to hungervild, He did not leave them, nor did give them over, But like a faithful Captain meek and mild: Did them relieve, and left them safe & sound, Though that it cost him many a hundred pound. 73 Now do I think I hear the vulgar cry, That at this Voyage some fault, for sure there was, (Else) with vild hunger, why did so many die Upon shipboard, and not to land did pass: The soldier's fault that was so bad at home, The States would not, let them on their land come. 73 Now by the censure of the common and vulgar sort Count Mansfield was much blamed, but altogether unjustly and unworthily, for he was a very noble Gentleman and of a high spirit▪ stout and very courageous, wise and gentle, and expert in the wars, he was ever loving to an honest soldier, but hated a shark, he had too many in this Press, more was the pity, for it killed his noble, heart, when he was cut off from landing them, for (indeed) the fault was neither his, nor any of the Commanders then appointed for that service, for they were very noble Gentlemen: but the main cause of this much loss on shipboard, was the very roguery & inhuman carriage of the vulgar pressed soldiers, which made such spoil in all places of England as they went, especially in Kent: that the tidings came both to the ears of the French King, as also to the States: who hearing what hurt and inhuman parts they played in their own Country: being a Kingdom of a commendable and civil government, thought they would make havoc in theirs, where wars is kept a foot: therefore to prevent a greater mischief, they would not a mit them to come to shore, and this their own base carriage brought their own ruins: and this was the main cause of so much loss on shipboard. 74 O Getheringbarch, what woeful work was there, When overboard so many men were thrown That every morn, the water did appear, With dead men's corpse for to be overflown! O soldiers then, beware, take heed by this In your own Country never do amiss. 74 Nothing can be more hateful to GOD, then for a soldier who is commanded to fight for the truth of the Gospel, and for his King and Country to be a traitor and enemy to it, and by any colour or pretence to wrong the inhabitants of his own Nation: as God knows too many of these soldiers did was then pressed, therefore God showed his judgement upon them. 75 But strive to do your King and Country good, And not the Kingdom harm before you go, For if you do, you sure will lose your blood, If not thus basely, yet before your foe, You shall have shame and with disgrace shall die, For God is just, and justly will you try. 76 Then soldiers all bear you an honest mind, And being pressed take hearts of valour then, And to your Country, ere be true and kind, And with your foe, be sure to fight like men, So shall you gain credit and comfort brave, And to your Country much more welcome have. 76 Nothing in a soldier is more honourable then to be well conditioned and true to his Country. 77 Then after this another Voyage, I went To Cadiz fair where Sack did make such spoil, That soldiers had their wits therewith so spent, That then with shame, the foe gave us the foil: Besides commission it was counted bad, And said the worst, that ere General had. 77 This Voyage is too well known, therefore I will say no more of it: but that I went from Hull with Sir William Courtney, I had as good have had stayed at home. 78 But what it was, I cannot truly tell But by report, and fame may tell a lie, For with edge-tools, I do not love to mell, For they will cut, therefore I'll let them lie, But how it was, I cannot truly say, Many were glad they came so well away. 79 But presently we had another Press Where I was sent into the North Country, And did receive three hundred men no less, All able men, as any man might see, Where that indeed, I then Conductor was, And brought them safe to Hull where they did pass. 79 This Voyage I went also from Hull with Captain Francis Conisby to the Long Line, to General Morgan, then for Stoad Leaguer, but presently I came back. 80 Over the Seas with all the Northern men, To Denmark's Voyage, and to the Leaguer poor Which was at Stoad, but I with them as then There did not stay but presently came over, Even from Long Line, where noble Conisby Did send me back with Sir john Burlassie. 81 Now here I must the Muses summon all With trumpets sound, chiefly Melpomene, To aid me here, and show the heavy fall Even of such Worthies as I dare well say Will vex great Mars within his Court to find, So many Worthies of so noble mind. 81 This I'll of Ree Voyage was not so poor as pitiful by reason of so great a loss of noble Soldiers & great Commanders: the passages of it is too well known, therefore I will say no more of it. 82 As here was lost, woe to that fatal chance, And woe unto that more than dismal day, That England had that overthrow by France, Which makes the French for to presume & say, From England's yoke that they have eased their neck, And brought brave England for to bow and beck. 83 Aswell as they had formerly been kept Under command of England's Royal Kings, Now that obedience they away have swept, And of Heroic victory now sings Having their green died with our Crimson gore, Of noble blood, whose loss we may deplore. 84 But out (alas) what doth the Frenchmen say, And as the Spaniard; nay, the Bo●ish Dutch Lay Sack enough but in the English way, They need no foe, their valour is so much they'll kill each other in their drunken fits, For Bacchus is their god, and spoils their wits. 84 It is an ordinary brag of the Spaniard to give out: that throw but a Butt of Sack in the way of the English, and with their own help killing one another being drunk, will do more hurt in an English Army, than a thousand Spaniards can do in Arms. 85 For Mars is banished quite, and valour to, Unless it be in some brave minded men Which are so few, alas what can they do, When in a hundred scarce you shall find ten, That ere is pressed but they are bred so base, That they have, neither valour, truth nor grace. 85 And the Dutch braggeth that they have changed trades with the English, for we have learned them to fight, and they us to drink, or else we have taken the trade up at our own hands, never being any apprentices to the same, yet free, without any order of L●w: So now we English are the drinkers, and the drunken Dutchmen brave soldiers, more is the pity. 86 For any slave, if he be ne'er so bad, Is holden good enough to serve the King, Nay, any thief, whence ere he can be had Which doth good soldiers oft to ruin bring, For when they should do service as they ought, Pressed to be gone, they are then to be sought. 87 Which makes brave hearts come oft by weeping cross, And loaf their lives by such disasters base, Which might have honour, but comes home with loss, Both of their lives, and with most vild disgrace And then these slaves to England will come over. Saw ne'er the foe, yet beg for soldiers poor. 88 And tell you tales how Cannons they do roar, And how great Mars his trumpet brave doth found, And how they are lamed and made exceeding poor By that hard war, in which they ne'er were found, But run away before it did begin, To beg or steal, their former course of sin. 89 But why do I use this prolixity, To speak of that which I can never mend? Yet pray I will, and that most heartily, That God & King would better soldiers send Against the foes of his blessed royal blood, For until then, that we shall ne'er do good. 90 Yet still me thinks the trumpets sound amain, Woe and alas, when shall I ever see Such noble hearts tread English earth again, As now was lost in this same I'll of Ree, Rue we may call, and rue we may that day, The Duke did find, o'er Neptune's flood the way. 90 Gentle Reader give me leave this by the way to let thee understand, that at our first going on, we had good sport, and very noble service, and bravely performed, and with great credit to the Lord General the Duke: And though at our coming off we had the worse, yet the French for all their bragging need not so much boast of their gains or noble victory, for first and last they lost a world of fine fellows: But indeed it was God's providence, and foreseeing determination. That we should know we were all at his disposing, and not as some scandalous and filthy reproachful tongues did use to give out to the derogation of the noble Duke's honour being the General all which for as far forth (as I for my part) could ever discern, was altogether unjust, for never could any General carry himself more lovingly to all his soldiers, than he did not only to the Commanders and Officers, but even to the poorest Sentinels, and none that was a soldier of worth and quality, will (I think) or can justly say but he was truly noble, of a very amiable and loving disposition to all that had any suit unto him. Some foul tongues ●ave out that at the retreat and coming off that my Lord Duke was then on shipboard, but I am sure, when it was dark night he was in the field, and brought to the Bridge a good quantity both of shot and powder: For as he was of an amiable condition, so was he of a stout and courageous spirit, ever forward to further an honest & good soldier in his suit, but a coward or a man of a preposterous or foul carriage he could never abide; but never man yet lived or died without enemies (especially one so eminent) no more did he, much more was the pity. 91 Brave Rich & Burrows you there lost your breath, And so did Bret and Bingley both beside, And Radcliffe sweet, my Captain turned to earth, Brave Coningam, whose fame yet never died, Heidon & blundel both two noble Knights. With York and Thornix took their last good nights. 92 With many more brave Captains of great fame, Which lost their lives, & bodies turned to dust, Whom I for we cannot but weep to name, Why say I so, for to them that I must? For sure I am, all flesh was born to die, As was these Gallants most unhappily. 93 For formerly no age hath ever known, That Englishmen received such vile disgrace, Nor Chronicle past memory hath shown, That bragging France did England so debase, As it did then within this paltry I'll, So many Worthies of their lives beguile. 94 Mars did envy against great Neptune's flood, Great Neptune he was vexed at Mars again, To see that I'll drowned with our English blood, Which water had enough about the same: But now their pits are filled with purple gore, As they were filled with saltish brine before. 95 But for to leave this more than hapless place, And those sweet souls in bliss that died therein, For though their bodies be interred so base, Yet do their souls a Halleluia sing Unto jehovah the blessed God above, Who oft doth visit whom he best doth love. 96 But I poor man amongst all these worthy dead, Did scape alive and came to English shore, Being in my travel forced to beg my bread, With woeful wounds which was both green and sore, Until to London that at length I came Where I poor man, a long time did lie lame. 97 But when I was recovered of the same, Unto the Belgic States that I went over, And there indeed I did take arms again, To see what Fortune would befall me more: Thinking far better there to live in pay, Then for to burden England any way. 98 But yet (alas) I had not there been long Till Mastrick Leaguer fell out very sore And cruel fate again did me that wrong, That yet a shot unto my share fell more. Beside I lost my noble Colonel good, Stout and devout as on the earth ere stood. 98 Here at Mastrick I got another shot for my reward, and that was all the preferment that fell to my share. 99 So I poor soul, being then disabled quite, Was forced to take the Gesthouse courtesy, Where comfortless and without all delight, I did remain in pain and misery: Until poorly, recovered that I was, Then left I arms and did to England pass. 100 For after that my limbs I got again, I to my Country, then did make repair, Where for my service, travel, loss, and pain, I did request some pension for my share: For I had served thirty years and more, In constant service, never gave it over. 101 For which poor I must need● constrained be, To end my days like to an Anchorist, And with what means the Gentry will give me, Content myself until I take my rest, In earth's wide womb where I must rot to dust, God grant my soul it may live with the just. Now arms farewell, brave soldiers all adieu, I was a soldier, but I am none now. Yet is my heart to soldiers ever true, For I to Mars have made a constant vow: That I will be a servant to him still, In what I can his service to fulfil. For though I can't do King, nor Country good, Yet I a soldier from henceforth will be To jesus Christ, who shed his precious blood, To save that soul, immortal is in me. Thus will I rest, in faith and hope will I Resolved be, and never fear to die. Thus you have heard the whole Catastrophe Of the disasters, I have wandered through, Of th' intricate Meanders weary way, Though it be little, yet it is enough: And he that covets, for to have it more Let him begin, for now will I give over. FINIS.