THE COMPLAINT OF CHRISTMAS▪ AND THE TEARS OF TWELFTIDE. By JOHN TAYLOR. LONDON: Printed for JAMES BOLER, dwelling at the sign of the Marigold in Paul's Churchyard. 1631. To the most mighty, much unworthy honoured, and to the Right Rich-worshipped disworshipped, & to the al-to-much powerful and respected; the miserable Money-mongers & Mammonists, whose hateful habitations are within the bounds of Europe or the Pales of Christendom; Christmas sends Greeting. TAke it as you please you Almighty makers of Beggars, you provokers of thieves and encreasers of Vagabonds; I, I myself, old Christmas (without fear or flattery, proclaims your base entertainment, are you all turned Fox-fured, Goldfinches Wolves, Cormorants, Caterpillars, & Curmudgeans? Hath the devil & the world so besotted and bewitched you, that you will wilfully spend your days miserably, to end your lives detestedly? will you live poor to dye rich? will you empty your consciences, to fill your bags? and will you pinch your bellies to starve yoursoules? He that should have told me for five hundred years ago, that Christmas and Hospitality should have been thus unregarded and slighted, I should have held him for a lying Prophet, and a false Prognosticator. Oh mad and brutish age, wherein the avarice of one is the prejudice of thousands; when the Coach eats up the Cart, the Back robs the Belly, when the Perfumes, crewels, cullisses and the Casting-bottle, makes a warm Chamber and a cold Kitchen; Know you thick skinned Hidebound Chuffs, that you are hared of God & men, yea your own children or heirs (for whom you rake and ravine) do inwardly curse & hate you, and know, that what most vilely you get over the devil's back, your inheritors will as wickedly spend under his Dams belly. What a shame it is (if you had the grace to see it) that you should give your minds to live upon the unnatural lechery and engendering of money, that all the meat you eat in your own houses is the accursed spawns of oppression, extortion, bribery, and insatiate covetousness: and yet some of you keep no houses at all, but pinch your own and your families guts at home, when at other men's boards you are tyrants, where you turn the old custom backward, and instead of keeping Christmas, you (like droves) make Christmas keep you; but take it for a warning, let me not find it so the next year; for if I do, I will send you such guests as shall never forsake you; as the Dropsy, Gout, colic, the Stone, & the like kind tokens of my just anger, which you shall receive as most worthy & deserved New-yeeres-guifts. Your friend or foe, as you hereafter use him, Chritmas. To the most Right and truly honourable, to the Rightly approved and deseruinglie beloved, right Worshipful, and to the Rest of the small number of Liberal and Charitable Houskeepers of Christendom; old Christmas sends loving Commendations. YOU that are thick sown and thin come up, as if the world were barren of virtue, or past breeding of Goodness: you that are as rare as Phenixes, as scare as black Swans or white Negroes, and as much to be held in admiration as Snow in july, Strawberries in December, the Sunshine at Midnight, or a blazing Star at Noon: I assure you my brave worthy Benefactors, that I your ancient and yearly Guest (Christmas,) am heartily sorry to see your quondam number so much shrunk in the wetting; and although you are fall'n into that lamentable consumption that I with my friends favourers and followers can scarcely find the tithe of my former entertainment: yet (to show my thankful memory to your worthy predecessors,) with my gratefulness to you (too few) that are survivors, and to encourage a fruitful Spring, enease or multiplication of your successors. I send to you this my loving & friendly Epistle. You in your discetions, hold the commendable and golden mean way betwixt the two extreme Gulfs of Niggerality and prodegality, betwixt Hunger & Gluttony, betwixt Hide all & Spend all, betwixt wilful Slavery and wasteful Bravery. I wish most unfeignedly that the dew of Heaven may descend blessedly, that you may fructify, multiply fruitfully, increase and ampliffe, like the tree which Nabuchadnezar dreamed of, whose top reached to Heaven, and whose branches extended and stretched to the ends of the Earth: you have the Celestial Graces; your Hope is constant, your Faith is fervent, your Charity is frequent: your Hope is in assurance of that never faiing possession wherein the unblasted tree of your Faith is firmly fixed and rooted; and your Charity is the pious fruit which springs from that faithful Tree. And he that with his Grace doth plant it, water it, and cause it to increase, will crown his own gifts on your heads, that are his beloved instruments; not only here, with blessings transitory and temporal, but hereafter with that unspeakable glory which was, is, and shall be permanent and Eternal. Yours in the best of friendship, Christmas. To the Profuse Sardanapallitanians, most famous Infamous Heliogabalonians, the complete company of Cockbrained whimsie-pated Gul-Gallants, the intemperate prodigals and abusively nicknamed and called either Honourable, worshipful honest, wise, or any style or title that hath a relish of Commendations. Brave Sparks have amongst you, though Christmas be old, yet you shall perceive that he neither fears your Toledoes, Bilboes, or Steelettoes; I know that each of you have more shadow than substance, more tongue than truth, and more hair than wit, though many of you be bald or beardless. You that have Roared away your Land, Whored away your money, and Scored away your credits; that with often unnatural going to bed at Sunrising, and rising at supper time to breakfast, by turning the course of time out of his natural circumvolution; as the day into night, and the night into day, like Owls, Bats, and Glow-worms, are monsters against nature, that pay more for the maring of your clothes, then for the making, giving twice as much for the cutting as for the sowing; whose exercise is drinking and dicing, and whose grace is swearing; who entertain old Christmas with Gluttony and Ebriety, with the ill gotten expenses of thievery, cheating, unthristy borrowing, unmeasurable exhausting, unmerciful oppressing, or any unlawful obtaining; Know, all the whole kennel or litter of you, that I scorn you and your surfeiting welcome: let me persuade you to be wiser hereafter, and not to keep me company in such prodigal manner, that you must be forced to far the worse all the year after: Let it not be imputed to me, that I and my company did in twelve days, eat up that which should have lasted 365. The old Proverb saith Enough is a feast, and as you love to feast, so have no more then enough, lest to much feasting perforce, do breed and engender to much fasting spite of your teeth. Finally, Know, that I do come every year in memory of a great blessing, and I would not have your wasteful profuseness to turn that blessed time of Remembrance into an accursed use of impious blasphemy, and worse than Heathenish, Paganish, Bacchanalliall Beastiallitie. So wishing every of you to use your best endeavours each one to mend one, I leave you till the next year, in small hope to have my request granted. No way your friend, till you mend your manners, Christmas. THE COMPLAINT OF CHRISTMAS. ABout that time of the year when Skiegilding, and Earth-polishing Don Phoebus had (like a skilful Clothworker) stretched the nights upon the longest Tenterhooks of time, and curtold the days to the coldest abreviation, or a brief coldness, (an emblem of frozen charity:) I, Christmas, according to my old custom of 1600. years standing, visited the world; and like a quick Post, riding upon the wings of full speed, in ten days space I haunted the most Kingdoms and Climates of the Christian world. I was in the stewing-stoves of Russia, Muscovia, Pollonia, Sweavia, Hungaria, Austria, Bohemia, Germania, and so many other numb-cold teeth-gnashing Regions, that if I should name them all, I should strike the Readers into such a shivering, and endanger their wits and bounties with a perpetual dead palfie or Apoplexy: In the most of these places my cheer and entertainment was Pilchards, Anchovies, Pickled-Herring, white and red dried Sprats, Neat's tongues, Stock fish, hanged Beef, Mutton, raw Bacon, Brand-wine, (alias Aqua vitae) Tantablins, dirty Puddings, and Flapdraggons sowsd and carowsd with Balderdash. Indeed most of their diet is so well seasoned, that the men do naturally sweat salt, and the women do weep brine: and I noted that they never watered either their saltest fish or flesh in any other vessels than their bellies, which was an exceeding policy to vent their Malt, and a stratagem to make Saltpetre of their Vrin. In Spain and Italy I was welcomed in many great Dons and Magnificoes houses, with three Alphabets of salads at one meal, but all the meat upon five of their tables would scarce give a zealous Puritan his supper on good Friday. I have seen a hungry Signior or Clarissimo eat a truss of Sampheir, with his fork like a Prenge or Pitchsorke tossing it into the hayloft of his chaps, as if his mouth had been an Hostry: In a word, I perceived that what either the Italian or Spaniard doth want in gluttony and drunkenness, he takes out his share in pride and lechery with more extortion than threescore in the hundred. So (amongst their multiplicity of sauces) I leave them like saucy companions. Being at Rome I was mightily feasted, for they thought nothing too hot, too heavy, or too dear for me: I met there with no sects of dull or cynical Diogenasses, there was no parsimonious banquets, or Philosophical kind of feasting, I found not a man that was not half a Doctor, and was well skilled in Kitching Physic, and they knew that roots and fountain water would breed Crudities, therefore if they eat any, it was Potatoes, Skirrets, or Eringoes, baked with the luscious pulp, p●● or linings of the marrowbones of he Goats, or lusty Rams. Vitellius or Helliogabalus could not have bid me better welcome than those charitable minded men did: I mused at it; but at last I considered that his holiness with all his Cardinals and Clergy, were like Millers, and had toll out of all the kingdoms of Christendom, and that they had Mines of gold and silver in Purgatory, (and it is thought that the Philosopher's stone is there,) which was more safely brought into the treasury, than the King of Spain's Ships can come from the West Indies, (for Purgatory is a Country which the Sea-sowsd pickled Hollander never yet discovered.) Indeed we did out-Epicure the Epicure, and made Epicurism seem sobriety, both in meat, music, perfumes, masks, or any thing that might with delight fill the five senses, or cinque-ports of man. For recreation I went to visit the lean Carthusian Friars, whom I no sooner beheld, but me thought I saw so many Death's heads, or Memento mories, a man might have told their ribs like so many ragged laths, their looks were almost as sharp as a hatchet; a good Anatomist might have discerned them only by the eye without incision: For how could it be otherwise with them, that all their whole life time feed upon phlegmatic fish; fish, fish, nothing but fish. Sometimes perhaps they tasted Caviar, Potathoes, or Anchovies, which they renced down with the suds of Sack: Then they had Almond Butter, a few blue Figs, and Reisins of the Sun to make up a starveling meal; but I observed one thing in this Friar whom I fasted withal, he would eat no poor john, or offer to catch a Ling by the Pole, but he loved a well grown Place exceeding well▪ provided, it were well buttered: he never would go to bed without a Cod's head, for Maids he fed hungerly upon them, but as for Soles he trod them under his fect. He gave me a dish of fish, dressed (as he said) with the same oil that was made of the Olives that grew upon Mount Olivet the last time my great Lord and Master was there▪ which I believed to be as true as Saint john Baptist had two heads, or Saint Dennis having his own head cut off, did take it up in his hands and carry it more than a mile. I gave my Friar the hearing, and the eating of some of his fish to boot, but I was very parsimonious and frugal of belief, and indeed I could not spare or afford him any. At last I grew so bold with him, with whom I dined that day, as to ask him the reason why he and the rest of his order did never eat flesh; he answered me, that it was in honour of S. Peter, because he was a fisherman: by the same substantial reason, I replied you might (for the honour of S. Paul) dwell in Tents, for he was a tentmaker. But there is a great mystery, or misery in it, that men should hold opinion that a man cannot go towards heaven with as good a conscience having the leg or wing of a Capon in his belly, as he might do with the Cob of a red Herring. For Reverend Sir, quoth I, you are a carnal man though you eat nothing but fish, for you must understand that there is a flesh of fishes: beside, as there are beasts on the land, so Corin. 15. there is a Sea-horse, a Sea-calf, a Sea-oxe, and the like; and further you know, That whatsoever goes into the mouth doth not defile the man: but he would not hear on that side, but prayed me to feed and stop my mouth of such as the blessed Virgin and the Saints had sent him, (indeed I heard him not talk of God at all.) So my belly being more full of his talk than his cheer, I took my leave thankfully of him, bidding him heartily farewell, which he could hardly do● having no better diet. In France I found a great deal more meat and less sauce, but the most part of the Mounsiers were saucy enough of themselves. Indeed the entertainment I had there, made me half amazed; for I thought the people themselves had been so many sacrifices to me, the men (for the most part) the Gallants I mean, were in the most bitterest of winter cut and slashed and carbonadoed into Rashers, Collops, Steaks, and Spitchcocks; that it was no more but cast a handful of salt upon a Gentleman, and he was ready for the broiling. Their Pride would have outfaced the cold of Caucausus; nay, had they been under the frozen Zone, they would have showed their linen thorough the sippers of their sleeves, breasts and shoulders, the heat of the fashion warmed them, although their teeth chatterd in their heads. The women were well-faced creatures, (but like our melancholy Gentlemen, who are in danger of a man-catching Sergeant) they seemed afraid to show their faces, and therefore they hid their heads in black bags, like Lawyer's declarations; the difference is, that the Lady's bag is silk, and the Lawyer's Buckram. There every Peasant keeps his wife like a Hawk (for they all wear Hoods) and a pair of old English Boots will hood a brace of them from generation to generation: and I observed that the miserable Country people durst not eat their owne Beef or Mutton (except the tripes and offal) for there is a penalty laid upon them if they bring not their best to the Markets, either of Beast or Bird; the Gallant Mounsiers have a prerogative to have all the Geese, Gulls, and Woodcocks that the Country yields, the Buzzards, Widgeons, and Cuckoo's are for the City's diet only, but the Partridge, Pheasant and Peacock are Courtiers. I had almost forgotten some particularities which I obferued in Germany, for I perceived they had been mad Gamesters at vied Ruff almost over all the Empire: the most of them had wrangled and played foul play, for Hypocrisy, and Cruelty cut, Ambition rubbed, and Oppression won the game, whilst Royal and real Virtues were merely cheated and abused: Clubs being trump won the Sett by fraud and force, the Spades and Diamonds assisting them, so that the Hearts only suffered, whilst Kingdoms, Principalities, and many fair Lordships lay at stake for't. Descending into the Low-Countries, or Netherlands, the Dutch States feasted me in state; and coming to Amsterdam, where there are almost as many heresies as Nations, I was indifferently bid welcome by most of the Sectaries, but I was most villainously used (rather abused) by a prick-eared Puritan, whose beard was warped like green Wainscot, or a capital S. (I think it stood as many ways as a Seaman's Compass.) He was a Cobbler on Translater by his trade; and coming to him I found his shop open, and he a mending of a bad or wicked sole of a zealous sisters who had often trod awry, and his brotherly function was to patch or piece her upright; but in sincerity I perceived the Cobbler was crafty, and wrought altogether to his own ends. I mused at his little respect of me, because he was at work, and telling him that I was come to dine with him, and keep Holiday: he asked me my name, and I told him my name was Christmas. At the very name of Mass, he leaped from me like a Squirrel, as nimbly as if he had had neither gut in his belly, or stone in his breech. And having recovered himself, he stopped both his ears, for fear my name the second time should strike him: he told me that the Mass was profane, and so were all the days in the year that ended with the word Mass, as Candle- mass, Lam- mass, Michael- mass,, Martlemasse, and that some Papist had been my Godfather; therefore he would have nothing to do with me. It is abomination (said he) and the mimic solemnising of this hellborn superstition was borrowed (or stolen) from the Heathens; therefore there was one said well when he called the Synagogue, or finfull Assembly, or fry of Friars at the Mass, the kingdom of Apes, for there is such mopping and mowing, such crossing and creeping, such ducking and nodding, that any reasonable man would think they were mad; beside, the Priest hath more postures than six Fencers, as if he were at quarterstaff with his Breaden god, that I am persuaded the God of heaven hold them in derision, and their Service to be rather masking or mummery than Divine; therefore, I say, the Mass is profane, and so art thou, therefore with me thou get'st no entertainment. Thus was poor Christmas welcomed like jack Drum and thrust out of doors; yet I suspected his hypocriticality spoke at us invectively against the Mass, that he might (with the more cunning and less suspect) defend what was ill in himself and be held the more devout, (much like as one Whore or Thief should revile and scandal another) for howsoever he prated, I thought him a Rascal, that would employ himself about his trade on such a day as was celebrated in the memory of the birth of our glorious Redeemer, God and Man, jesus Christ, which was the happiest day that mortality ever beheld: for in our Creation God showed his power, but in our Redemption his unspeakable love and mercy: therefore this day should be kept holy in remembrance of him that is the Holy of Holiest. That day we have escaped any danger, we celebrate with all joy and mirth, and shall this day be put to profane uses whereon our inestimable ransom was given us, that on this day put on mortality to make us immortal, that on this blessed day did put off his unspeakable glory, and put on our insupportable misery, thereby to make us eternally glorious; that on this day came to conquer and confound the power of our conquerors, Sin, Death, and Hell, and to free us from perpetual malediction. Saint Austin (that blessed Lamb, and Angelical Doctor of the Church) did with great thankfulness celebrate his birthday, saying, Let us so celebrate the day of our births, that we may give thanks to God who: would have us to be borne that we might be consecrated to himself. Also Pharaoh and Herod did not omit the celebration of the days of their nativities. At the birth of a young Prince the Bells do clamour the joy of the people, the great Ordnance do thunder out their rejoicings, the Bonfires do manifest men's fervent affections: Why not then on this happiest day, whereon our chiefest happiness came, this great day when the Angel of the great Counsel came to make our eternal peace between God and man; oh let us then for his sake be merry in God, and charitable to our neighbours, let us feast with thankfulness, and relieve with alacrity those impoverished members, of whom our gloriour Redeemer is the head. But you Master Confusion the Puritan, who are a Weathercock, Shuttlecock, a right Laodician, neither hot or cold, fit to be cast out of all good society of Christendom, or to be perpetually Amster-damnified into Holland; your sincerity being void of verity; your Faith unfruitful of good works, your Hope Innovation, your Charity Invisible, or like a Noun adjective, not to be seen, felt, heard, or understood. I arrived in England the 25. of December, about one of the clock in the morning, where I was no sooner landed, but (as old as I was) I cut a caper for joy, assuring myself that I was now in my ancient Harbour or heaven of happiness, in the Eden of the Earth, the Paradise of Terrestrial Peace, Plenty and Pleasure, the most fruitful Garden of the rotundious Globe, the comfortable Canaan, that flowest with Milk and Hony. And as thou (O England) hast ever given old Christmas (with his twelve Holiday Servingmen) good entertainment, with such cheer, hospitality, and welcome, as the Christian world never hath done the like. So (I observing the ancient Proverb) where I was wont to far well am come again. I having been four hours wrapped in this ecstasy of joy of my safe landing, at last I heard Master Chantecleere (the night's living Clock, or Cock, and the day's dial) with the care-piercing clang of his Horne-trumpet, crow out a Proclamation of the approach of Aurora; which I was glad to hear, for poor Christmas was as cold as a Snowball. Day being risen out of his oriental bed (the black Curtains of the night being drawn) I looked up and down the Country to see into which house I should go first, for I saw many fair houses which I had often been well entertained at; but I could perceive no doors open no lights thorough the windows, or smoke from the Chimneys, which made me doubtful where I was. My poor twelve old fellows were half frozen with fear and amazement, till (by mere fortune) I spied a swarm of Beggars, who made towards us, bidding us very welcome, saying, they had missed us long, acknowledging themselves beholding to us all, but chiefly to me. Not much to me (quoth I) but I remember there is a Lords of the Manors house at the end of this Village, I will go thither, and do you come after me, and anon I will give you your bellies full of good cheer. So the Beggars and I parted, and I with my men went to the Lords house, where finding the gate shut, I peeped in at the Keyhole, saw an old poor half-starved Servingman lean against the wall, bewailing the miseries of the time present, and grieving at the alterations of the time past, despairing of the amendment of the time to come. I was half afraid of him dreading that instead of better meat he would fall aboard of me and my troop; at last, seeing me retreat back, he beckoned to me, and watering every word with a tear, he spoke to me as followeth: Oh Christmas, old reverend Christmas! whither art An old Servingman's complaint to Christmas. thou going? What haste art thou now making to this house, where hospitality had once her habitation; where the poor man was relieved, the stranger succoured, the traveller refreshed, and all men bid welcome? Why art thou making such haste now? Now it is decayed, ruined, sunk. This house that from the Conquest hath been famous for Hospitality, is now buried in her own ruins. Look round about thee, where are now those high woods that did shelter this house from the winds violence? Now they are low enough, the woodman's axe hath humbled their proud heads. Look into the Parks: Deer may be dear now, for there are very sew there: My young Master not long since closed them in a Paste Pale, in a Tavern, where they were hunted by a company of fawning flattering hounds. Look into the Meadows, dost thou see an Ox there? No, no; they are all driven to the City. Is there a Calf or Sheep in the Pastures? no, they are all knocked on the head, and have their throats cut, having Parchment made of their skins to make him bonds after he had sold their flesh. Look into the Garden, is there a Beehive there? no, all the honey-birds are fled, and the Wax spent in sealing Bonds for Commodities. Look about the Yard, there is not a Duck, Chicken, Hen or Capon to be seen? not a Goose to be had? they are all plucked, and have pens made of their quills to set his hand to his undoing. Look into the Barn, there is not so many Ears to be found there as there are on a common Bailies head; or so much Corn in the Garners as will breakfast a Chicken. O Christmas, Christmas, my old eyes are almost bloodshot with weeping at the follies of my young Master, who iustead of making his Chymneyes smoke in the Country, makes his nose smoke in a Tobaceo-shop in the City. His Predecessors was wont to invite his Tenants to dinner, but now he hath more need to be invited himself; which his Quondam Tenants are not able todoe, for their new Landlord hath used them like Traitors, and set them on the Rack. Instead of keeping a good house in the Country, some blind house in the City keeps him: Instead of keeping a kennel of hounds, he is afraid to be fed on by hounds; he dares not look a Sergeant in the face, for fear he should bite him by the shoulder. Instead of keeping a fair Stable of horse, he keeps a foul Table of— Ravenous beasts that at one riotous supper will devour more than the Paris-Garden dogs. Instead of keeping a proper Servingmen, he hath much ado to keep himself; and whereas he should walk in his own gardens in the Country, he walks the Temple garden in the City: and last of all he thinks Milford-lane as safe a harbour for him as Milford Haven. Oh Christmas, is it not pity that such an ancient house as this where Hospitality, the Romans household God dwel●●▪ should thus decay? An old Usurer in the deep whirlpit of his ill conscience, hath devoured my young Master's house and lands. Thus have I unballanced myself of that burden of grief I was laden with, if you will not believe me draw nigh the house; the door is open for this old penny-father (whom I am forced to serve) need fears no thieves, for they rather fear him: for if they see any thing in this house now worth carrying away, they have better eyes than ever I had. The complaint of this poor Servingman was but an ill breakfast for me and my company that cold morning; yet I and my Comrades went along with him thorough Note. the yard, which looked much of his complexion, very lean; and I no sooner was in the house but I fell into a swound: so that had it not been for those that were about me I had departed; for they gave me hot waters, and rubbed my temples, and at last, with much ado, brought me to myself; so that then I purposed, what sight soever should poison my eyes, I would make a full survey of all the chief parts of the house. The wide room that I first set my foot in, was rather Christmas survey throughout the house. like the hole of some loathsome jail, than the Hall of an House: The Hall. Indeed it rather was a hell where a damnable extorting Devil dwelled with a few spirits about him. I may properly call them spirits, for they had little flesh about them. There was not so much fire in the Chimney as would broil a Pilchard, for his Hearth was as cold as my heart. The Blacke-Iacke whom every Servingman in the The jack. house was wont to wring by the ear, for being too saucy with them, (for he often would fling them into the fire, and make them quarrel without without cause) was cast aside in a blind corner. This spirit of the Buttery, (that would run foaming at the mouth up and down the house as being weary of travelling) was lamentably abused; this leather-suited Servingman (whom the Butler had often pitched over the Bar) I saw lie in a dark corner on his belly, with his mouth wide open like a Canon, as it were gaping for that full Charge he was wont to have in his old Master's time. Thus lay he sleeping in a hole that had made many sleep. The Tables. The Tables (that were wont to be spread with clean Linen, Diaper and Damask for the rich, and homespun for the poor,) were now covered with dust, and a company of starved Mice and Rats, that for want of crumbs were scarce able to crawl out of their nests, supplied the places of many guests, that were wont to fill them, in the time of bounteous housekeepers. I have known the time when I have seen a Gentleman Sewer (that Captainelike led a company of Servingmen bare, or bare Servingmen) armed with full dishes of meat, and the Clerk of the Kitchen, the Clerk of that stomachful Band bringing up the Rear, that in a quarter of an hour's warning, would perform a brave piece of service, and spite of hunger and famine place the right worshipful sirloin at the upper end of the Table, attended by two saucers of Vinegar and Pepper, that waited on him like his Pages. I had almost forgot the Mince-pies were quite forgot, also plum-broth stiffnecked colerick Choler of Brawn, that boldly charged on the Front with his sprig of Rosemary on his head, instead of a white feather, like a Bride-bush: but if these stout Captains, Brawn and burly Beef could not take down the stomaches of those that did assault them with their slighted blades, instantly upon the Rear would come whole troops of hot soldiers, ss Capons, Hens, Lamb, Mutton and Veal to their rescue, and after them whole company's of wildfowl would come flying to their succour; many tenderhearted Chicken have I seen torn in pieces in these terrible conflicts, many plump Partridges and Quails that could not quail their stomaches. Often have I seen the dogs (that could do more than many Knights of the Post) fall together by the ears for bones, the well filled guests have slung under the Tables to them. I have seen the wide throated Usher of the Hall, that took no small pride to cry Gentlemen and Yeomen to the Dresser, fill the Alms. basket with meat and bread well sopped with the fat of wholesome powder Beef. I have seen these windows stuck full of Holly and luy; but now the laborious Spider, that most skilful Spinner and Weaver, that in his nets entraps the silly Fly, as artificially as the Spider-like Tradesman doth the young Gentleman, hath his Loomb-worke hanging in every window, not fearing the house wife's Broom. Last of all, this Hall have I seen strewed with rushes, a sign of the soft and kind entertainment the guests should have: I have seen a Lord of Misrule, that with his honest mirth hath made old Christmas laugh: I have seen Armour, Swords, and Pikes adorn this Hall, which seemed to defend and aid Hospitality, but now there is no such Star appears, no such sight seen, and I fear, I am grown so old and dim, that I shell never see it again. From the Hall, I made a step into the Buttery, but Buttery. the thirsty Butler could not make me drink; he could not entertain me as a man would do a dog, which is with a crust. But the Servingman told me, because his Master would not be thought prodigal, bought his Beer and Bread at the next Alehouse. Instead of Plate, I saw a company of old Peuterpots, which (though they had no leaks) very seldom did hold any Beer in them. The bin grew musty for want of use, and the Chipping-knife rusty for want of exercise. The Butler was not many crumbs the better for all the Bread that came into the house in a week, for he had not so many chippins to his fees, as would breakfast a Mouse; or so much waste Beer, as would drowned a fly. As for Cards and Dice that were wont to be as good to the Butler as a ten pound Copyhold, the Master held profane: for he held the one were the Devil's Books, the other Witches bones; therefore unlawful to be read, or followed. I was going down into the Cellar, but I thought it in vain to descend so lo, seeing so little drink stirring above. Seeing I could not quench my thirst in the Buttery, I made bold to see if I could break my fast in the Kitchen, Kitchen. which had not so many Seacoles' or Wood mit as would roast three ribs of a rack of Mutton: then saw I the Master Cook (that now was not able to lick his own fingers) turn the lean spit; so that now he was both Cook and Scullion. The Dripping pans and Kettles ●●apt many a scouring, which indeed was good husbandry in their owner, for too much use would make the Kettles look thin, and too much scouring the Spits to sharp. The Oven that had wont to look as black in the mouth as a Tobacco pipe, and as hot as a Maquanella that drinks nothing but Aquavitae, was now cool enough; he could not now complain of any hart-burning, or of the unkindness of the Cook that oftentimes did surfeit him with filling his belly to full, and cramming him up to the mouth with Pasties, and baked meats. The Dresser-boord looked as lean as a cook's shop in the time of the forty fasting days. The choleric Cook that in times past would out of his fury scald the breakfast beggars, as they stood cutting slices of roast Beef off from the Spit, and boiled out of the pot, now was as tame as a Waterman in a great frost, as a Player in a great plague. He told me that he had not one quarter of Beef in the Kitchen, for a quarter of a year together; so that now he could not be beholding to the Butler for his Ladle of Beer, or the Butler to him for a trencher of meat: for the one was almost choked for want of liquor, and the other starved for want of meat. The jack on the Mantletree. There was one sight did much afflict me, and that was the jack, which in former times did rule the roast, and hindered many poor men's children from the warm office of turne-broches. It never was a bountiful time since a Dog in the wheel, and the jack in the Mantletree began to turn the Spit; for they began first to turn Hospitality out of doors. But the fault is in our English Brewers, that Dutchmen have such devices in their sconces, for if they did not ton up so many barrels of our Brittanian Barleybroth in their buckingtub- bellies, their Geometrical pates could never find out such uncharitable Engines. Being weary of the Kitcken, I took Lazanello de Coquo by the fingers and bade him be of good cheer (if he could get any meat to his dinner) and I went into the Larder, that was wont to look as fat as a Tripewife; Larder. but now, the copy of that lovely complexion was changed, for I have known when the smell of it (as a man passed by) would have given him his breakfast, but now would not yield so much as would stay a man's stomach while dinner time: It was fall'n much away since I saw it last, by reason of his thin diet: so I forsook the Larder, and went into the Dairy, Dairy. As soon as I came in I saw the Bowls whelmed upon each other backs, like so many men that lay heaped up in one grave in a time of Pestilence: They lay on the ground as if they mourned for their emptiness. The Cherme stood behind the door, as if it were ashamed of itself; for whereas he was wont to have his mouth buttered more than any Flemings, now he was as lean as any Spaniards. The Cheese-presse, that like a Cockney loved to feed on Curds and congealed milk into welshmen's roastmeate, stood close against the wall, as if it had been loath I should have seen it: and to be plain with you, there was not so much Cheese to be seen as would bait a Moustrap, or so much Butter as would make a toast for a Citizen's son. There was not a timorous fearful Custard to be seen, whose nature is to quake if your teeth do but water at him. Thus looking into every corner of the house beloestaires (as narrowly as if I had been some enquiring Constable, and had warrant for the search) but finding no such thing as I expected, up stairs went I and all my sorrowful associates, and looking into a withdrawing-Chamber I saw the old Mammon himself sitting over a The description of the Usurer. few Cinders to warm his gouty tooes, for no other part did need the comfort of a fire, for from head to foot, he was furred like a Muscovite. Instead of a Bible he had a Bond in his hand, which he was diligently perusing to see if it were forfeit or no: his face very seldom did look upward, for his dull melancholy eyes was most commonly fixed on the earth, as if he were looking out for a Mine: He kept his keys continually tacked at his girdie, one hand always on them, as if he feared they would run from him and unlock his Chest for those that would do more good with his bags, than he himself ever had. He was like the Poets Euclio that feared every man that did but look towards his house, came to rob it: for he no sooner cast his Ospray eyes on me and my company, but he cried, thieves, thieves, as loud as his hoarse throat could creak it out, braving his poor servants, telling them they had let in fellows to rob him: so to stop this Hellhounds mouth, I spoke to him as followeth. Sir, fear not, there are none here that intent to hurt you: if you catch any it must be yourself that must do it to yourself, and not we. My name is Christmas, these grey haired men that are with me, are men of my near and dear acquaintance, these poor men in their patched cloaks, poor people that wish well to me: all true men, though poor men; and we come to you for a few days, hoping of a free entertainment: if it is not your pleasure to welcome us as your Guests, it is not our part to force it. This old Penny-father looked as sour on me, as if I had brought him a Privy-seal to borrow money of him, or a Subpaena out of the Exchequer for extortion: and in brief told me, that I was an imposture, and only came to entice the people to prodigality and expense: and as for the poor, he had nothing to do with them, for he was poor himself. Poor yourself, said I, 'tis true; for how can you be Christmas to the Curmudgion. rich, that never think you have enough. In this you show yourself most unnatural, for Nature is content with a little, but you with never so much. Therefore covetous rich men may well be called the sons of the Earth because they hunt after nothing but earth. What need you be covetous? Hath not God given you himself, what need you have any more? If God cannot suffice you, what can satisfy you? As for external riches they are more fugitive than Chemist's Quicksilver, or the most notorious Vagabond. He inherits nothing that loseth Christ, he loseth nothing that possesseth Christ. Will you possess him, let the poor possess some of your wealth? Wilt thou lose nothing, then put it to a spiritual interest, let the poor borrow some of thee? Here on earth thou hast but eight for a hundred, which is most finfull use; but with the poor thou shalt have a hundred for eight, which is a most heavenly interest. He that doth bestow his benevolence on the poor, doth not lose, but get; and by scattering his bread on the waters, doth gather and increase. By keeping them you do not possess them, or by dispersing them, lose them. Gold and silver are good, not that they can make you good, but that you may do good. How can money be better lent than to the poor, for my Lord and Master will be bound to see it paid in again but he is a surety few Usurers will take. What Note. is gold, but yellow rubbish? What is silver, but white dross? and nothing makes them precious but covetousness. Gold is a matter of labour, his peril that doth possess Anagram. Pecunia cui pena it: It is an ill master, a worse servant. Be not a slave then to your estate, but entertain me with some part of it, relieve those that follow me, cover your boards and load them with well-fild dishes▪ so shall you crown yourself with all our blessings. My Oratory would do no good, my Physic would not work; blessings he regarded as much as a true Protestant will the Anathema of the holy Father the Pope▪ for without any verbal answer he thrust me and my company out of doors without saying Farewell. Thus was poor Christmas used, which made me and my consorts look very blank upon the matter: so we wandered up and down from house to house but found little comfort. Some would only smile on me, another ask me how I did, and give me a cup of small Beer and a crust, and so farewell: a fourth, that laid all on his back, would not look on me; so away went we still jogging on. At last I cast up my dim eyes, and I saw a house where for four or five years together I had not been bountifully, but profusely entertained, for the Master of it did almost surfeit me every meal: A way went we thither, and coming to the gate, the grumbling Servingman (that opened his mouth wider than a trap door) told me, there was no entertainment for me, but began to rail at me, and said, that his Master was the worse for me by a thousand pound a year, therefore bid me be gone, for he had warrant from his Master to lock me, out of doors; telling me moreover, if I would speak with his master I must to London, for he was sojourning there, not intending to return while the Parliament was ended. Well, thought I, it were good if the Proclamation that summons all Country-Gentlemen to return into the Country, would ●ake hold of him and many others that lie lurking there because they would not be troubled in the Country with their poor neighbours. As for thy Master, that spent more in three or four year, than he is able to get together again in threescore, I did not entice to that expense. Can I help his riot and excess? I desire to undo no man. I love to see men bountiful, not prodigal: I never enticed him to luxury; I thought what would become of his prodigality. He was prodigal because he would be accounted a good housekeeper. A good housekeeper? Oh simplicity▪ that for keeping three or four prodigal and fulsome feasts he should make himself a beggar for ever after. I think indeed now that a good house is abler to keep him, than he a good house. No, no, they are the means that bless, no man can live without them, though few have them. What cause had your Master to feast all the richest in the Country, and at one sumptuous and sinful supper, to consume more than would relieve a Parish of poor folks a quarter? Is this charity? No, no. But I think your Master doth scarce know where he may read this. His fulsome, gluttonous, and Bacchanalian Feasts, did presage of fasts. It grieved me first to foresee it, now to know it. Is it charity to lard and grease the fat Country Boars, I mean the rich chuffs that have enough in their Barns to relieve themselves and their poor neighbours? This kills, not cures charity. Gluttonous Feasts cost much, do little good, much hurt. They mingle Earth, Heaven, Sea, and Fire in their bellies at one sitting. What Fowl soever flies in the Air, what Beast soever treads on the Earth, what Fish soever swims in the Sea, and what strange drinks, Wines, and strong Waters soever, (that are of fiery natures) we barrall up in our bellies at one dinner or supper: So that the confusion of these Elements cannot choose but beget diverse tempests in us, which like earthquakes continually shake our bodies by the arising of hot and fiery vapours from our stomaches. So that if Nature could find her tongue now, as in the days of Ovid, she would complain once more to jove of her wrongs: for is it not against Nature to see fishes that should swim in the Seas, first swim in wine vinegar, then in wine, being so scorched, carbonadoed, soused, and so martyred, that when it comes to the Table, a man cannot judge whether it be fish or flesh? Then to have another dish brought to the board covered over with an inundation of Vinegar, Oil, and Pepper? Is it not against Nature to have pounds of Butter roasted, whose Cooking with white-bread, cinnamon and Sugar will cost more than half a dozen Milch Kine will yield in a week? Is it not against Nature to have Mutton larded with Ambergris, and breaded with Civet? To have Birds come to the Table limned to the dish with viscous and clammy sauces, faster than they were before in the Fowler's lime-twigs? And to have many of these invented and made dishes come to a Table, do you think it would not make Nature complain? Yes, yes; for all this doth no good to Charity. And it is no wonder, as the Philosopher faith, why so suddenly we die, seeing we live by Death. Some will out-Epicure Geta the Emperor, that had his Table furnished with dishes according to the Alphabet: some again almost as gluttonous as Theocritus Chius, that having devoured at one bit, a live fish, said that he had swallowed heaven: To whom one answered, that he wanted one thing, which was to drink off the Sea at a draught; now if he had but remembered to bid him eat the earth instead of bread, he had made a pretty meal of it. Alas, alas, this luxuriousness kills as many as Physic. Let Christmas be at a feast where is good store of good cheer, but not too dainty or costly, but such as a man's own yard or pasture affords: where the Tables are filled with guests, not rich, but poor: not so few as the Graces, that are only three; or no more than the Muses, nine; for a feast ought to be absolute for all comers. I am of his mind, for if I have a moderate preparation of meat and drink, honest mirth, good welcome, and a cup of good Wine or Beer; I care not for set Suppers, high Music, complemental Cringies. No, no, if your master had but began thus moderately, he need not now to have taken the City over his head to hide himself from me. But he is not the first that hath done so, (though that be no excuse for him) I would he might be the last, for I and my followers fare the worse for him and such profuse Prodigals. So away went I and my train, having little comfort yet as you may perceive, but as we were walking and talking of our bad fortune, we might perceive a plain Country man come towards us: he had high-shooes A Farmer. on that looked as black as a Bullice, white stockings made of the wool of his own Sheep, grey Trunk-hose, with all accoutrements belonging to this Country plainness: As soon as he came somewhat nigh me, he began to salute me and bid me welcome into the Country, telling me if it pleased me I should be welcome to his house: So without many circumstances I took his proffer, and with my (now) merry mates went toward his Farm, which was not far off. As soon as we came into the yard (well stored with Poultry) the Farmer himself shook me by the hand, and bid all the rest welcome. The Dame of the house dressed up in her homespun Gown, came to meet me; the Maidservants rejoiced to see me, and the ploughmen's hearts leaped in their straw-coloured letherd Doublets for joy of my approach. Then with all Country solemnity I was had into the Parlour and set down by a good fire. I was presented with a cup of brown Ale, seasoned with Cinnamon, Nutmegs, and Sugar. When dinner was ready, I was set at the upper end of the Table, my own company set round about me, and the rest eat with the servants. We had Brawn of their own feeding, Beef of their own kill; we had brave plum broth in bole-dishes of a quart. The White-loafe ran up and down the Table, like a Bowl in an Alley, every man might have a fling at him: the March Beer marched up and down, and we were all merry without the help of any Musicians. We had good cheer, and good welcome which was worth all: for the Goodman of the house did not look with a sour or stoical brow, but was full of mirth and alacrity, so that it made the house merry. A, ha, quoth I, this is something like, our dinner is better than our breakfast, this is as Christmas would have it, here is neither too delicate cheer, which doth cost much, or will cause surfeits, or too little or mean, but such as will kill hunger. They are the best feasts where the poor are relieved, the rich are able to help themselves. Dinner being done, Grace being said, the Cloth taken away, the poor refreshed, we went to the fire: before which, lay store of Apples piping hot, expecting a bowl of Ale to cool themselves in. Evening Prayer drew nigh, so we all repaired to Church, where I heard myself much spoken of, but after Service was done, few respected me: some indeed, invited me to their houses, but I thought my entertainment would not be worth my labour, considering my company: so went I home again with my honest Hobnaile-wearer, with whom I passed the time away in discourse while supper, which being ended, we went to Cards. Some sung Carols, merry songs, some again to waste the long nights, would tell Winter-tales. At last came in a company of Maids with Wassell, Wassell, jolly Wassell: I tasted of their Cakes, and supped of their Bowl: and for my sake, the White-loafe and Cheese were set before them, with Minee-Pies, and other meat. These being gone, the jolly youths and plain dealing Plow-swaines, being weary of Cards, fell to dancing; from dancing to show me some Gambols. Some ventured the breaking of their shins to make me sport, some the scalding of their lips to catch at Apples tied at the end of a stick, having a lighted candle at the other; some shod the wild Mare; some at hotcockles, and the like. These Country revel's expiring with the night, early in the morning we all took our leave of them, being loath to be too troublesome; and rendering them unfeigned thanks for our good cheer (who still desired that we would stay with them a little longer) we instantly traveled towards the City. Being entered into it, we saw very few look with a smiling countenance on us, but a few Prentices or journeymen that were tricked up in their Holiday clothes; but we conjectured their Masters were not up, or else we could not go so far unbidden. At last the Bells began to ring, every householder began to bestir himself, the Maidservants we saw run hurrying to the Cook's shops with Pies, and the jacks went as nimbly as any of the wife's tongues: and before we were aware, whole Parishes of people came to invite us to dinner: Some took me by the hands and would have me his guest, another took Saint Stephen; a third, Saint john; a fourth, Childermas; but New-year's day was welcome to them all, especially to the rich; but all this while the poor was not looked on, they were not invited: It grieved me, as it did them (poor souls) and I spoke as much as I could for them; but I was answered, the Parish had taken order for the poor already, and that their houses were only for their friends, and not Beggars; and for my part, if I would stay with them for a week or so, I should be as welcome to them as any of their rich neighbours. Alas, alas, said I, is Charity as well as Conscience banished out of your freedom? How can you make me truly welcome, except the poor feed with me? It doth me more good to see a prisoner released, and the poor man relieved, than taste of your daintiest meat. Yet I will confess I have scene many famous and memorable deeds done by well-disposed Citizens; the Hospitals and other charitable houses can witness it, and that some in these days follow the footsteps of their predecessors; but the present compared to those past, are no more in comparison than the least Star to the Sun, or a Glow-worm to a Star. Charity in those times was in her youth, in her prime, in her perfect ripeness; now she is old, decrepit, and lame: for she is seldom seen walking in the streets, she is now only an Vmbra, a Shadow, a Ghost: her substance is vanished; nay, she is dead: And will you know when she died? I will tell you, When Prodigality, Drunkenness, and Excess began When Charity began to sicken. to live, than she died; their generation was her destruction. When Prodigality spent as much one day as would keep her a month; when Pride wore as many clothes on her back as would clothe an Hospital of fatherless children; when Drunkenness swallowed, in the whirlpool of his belly, more drink at one draught than would quench the thirsts of many poor children; when Gluttony spent more at one meal than would content many hungry Lazars; when Farmers began to make their son's Gentlemen, and young Gentlemen began to be devoured by Usurers: then, then, Charity lay on her sicke-bed, nay, on her deathbed. Will you When in her prime. know when she was in her perfect health? I will tell you. When Gentlemen did not know what a yard of Satin, Velvet, Cloth of Gold, or Tissue is worth; when gold and silver lace were not seen in Cheapside; when Beverhats, blue, red, yellow, and green Starch were not worn; when Lords went in good Cloth, and their Servingmen in good Freeze, or Stuffe; when the Gentry did not know what did belong to Tobacco, Anchovies, Chaviare, and Pickled-Oysters; when such walking-Spirits as Footboys and Pages went invisible; when we went not hurrying along the streets in their French Carts, as fast as if the Devil had been the Coachman: then, then. Charity was well, was in health, and looked cheerfully. The Roman Catholics boast they have Charity living with them (which they reverence as much as they do their Saints) by which, with the help of good works they hope to merit. Alas, alas, they are deceived, their Charity will do them little good, except they have the help of her elder sister, Faith. Therefore I think it not amiss, if the Romanists would borrow some of our Faith for some of their Charity and good deeds, for we wnnt one, as much as they do the other. But I begin to be weary with talking thus to no purpose: Therefore England, beautiful, fruitful, and yet blessed Land, take heed lest thy Gluttony, Pride, and Excess, Covetousness, Bribery, and Extortion, have that Adamantine force to pull down heavens judgements on thee as they did on Sodom. Thou art as sumptuous as that City was, be not thou so sinful. Before it was burnt it was compared to a Garden, nay, to a Paradise for the neat and pleasant situation, and the happy plentifulness of all things: But now it is a place destitute of water and fruit; only, there are such growing, that only delight the eye, but deride the touch and taste: for on those stinking and burnt banks, grow Apples, that being touched fall in dust. Thou mayst be so, thou wilt be so, except some of thy fullness have vent toward the poor. Thou art such a fortunate Island, that Histrographers write of, blessed with an excellent temperature of Air, and singular Clemency of Heaven: where about March, the Spring begins to clothe the earth in a Summer livery. Heaven is bountiful and patient, be thou penitent and thankful. But as I was going forward with my Admonition, they stopped my mouth by their entreating me to be their guest for three or four days: so for such a small quantity of time, I bestowed myself among them. But I was the most royalest, noblest, and worthiliest entertained at Court, Inns of Court and Temples, where I was resident while Candlemas, and then left this Land. FINIS. A Christmas CAROL, To the tune of Poor TOM. Rejoice, rejoice, this day is come Salvation unto Christendom: All that will hear their blessed Redeemers voice, Let them all with mirth rejoice, rejoice. The Saviour of the world is borne, To ransom us that were forlorn: He left the Heavens, and came to us on earth, And from a blessed Virgin's womb had birth. Here a mighty mystery well was wrought, whose depth no man can gather; A Mayden-mother pure, a Son forth brought, and no man was the father: God above, with peace and love, The sinful world possessed With heavenly treasure, past all measure, Who is ever blessed. He this day to Grace a feast, sent his Son to be a Guest: Let us then, like thankful men give entertainment to him: And let us still with heart and will, our best of service do him: Himself for us he hath given, to draw us from earth to heaven. Therefore for all his pain, let's give him ourselves again. TO wipe away our sins great sums, God's Son and heir in person comes; He left his glorious and Immortal throne, and underneath his Father's curse did groan: Down from the heavens to the earth he came, to honour us he took our shame; He suffered death that we might live thereby, and through his merits reign eternally. Seeing he hath with his precious blood washed clear our foul offences, How can we render any thing that may be recompenses, Since we may not any way give any thing worth taking; Or all that can be done by man, no satisfaction making: Let us do as David says, give him honour, laud and praise. Let Christmas day put us in mind, that Christ was borne this day: Let's entertain him here, that we may entertain him aye. That we all with one heart and desire, amidst the Celestial Choir All honour and praise may sing, to Christ our heavenly King. FINIS. A CATALOGVE OF ALICE Mr JOHN TAILOR'S several Books, Printed together in one Volume in Folio. Tailors Urania. The first part of the troubles and destructions of jerusalem. The second part and final destruction of jerusalem by Titus and Vespasian. The life and death of the most blessed amongst women, the Virgin Mary, the mother of our Lord jesus Christ. Superbiae flagellum, or the Whip of Pride. Against cursing and swearing. The fearful Summer. The Travels of twelvepences. The Armado, or Navy of Ships that sail as well by land as by sea. The Beggar, or the praise of Beggar's beggary & begging. Tailor's Goose. jack a Lent. Tailor's penniless Pilgrimage, or journey (without money) from London to Edinburgh in Scotland, and back to London. The Acts and exploits of Wood the great Eater in Kent. Sir Gregory Nonsense▪ A very merry Wherry voyage from London to York with a pair of Oars. A new Difcovery, (by sea) with a Wherry, from London to Salisbury. A Kicksie winsie, or a Lerry cum Twang. Tailor's Motto. An Epicedium or mournful death-song for Coriats' supposed drowning. The eighth Wonder of the world, or Coriats' reviving. Laugh and be fat. Coriats' News and Letter with the Authors paraphasing verses. A Bawd very modest. A Whore very honest. A These very true. A Hangman very necessary. The unnatural Father. Tailor's Revenge against Fenner. Fenners Defence. A Caft over the water to Fenner. The Waterman's suit concerning Players. Wit and mirth. A Dog of War. The World runs on wheels. The nipping or snipping of abuses. A brief of the Chronicle from Brute to this present in Verse. A brief of the Chronicle from the Norman Conquest to this present. A Farewell to the Tower bottles. The Marriage of the Princess Elizabeth. A funeral Elegy for King james. A funeral Elegy for the Earl of Nottingham. A funeral Elegy for the Earl of holderness. A funeral Elegy for the Bishop of Winchester. A funeral Elegy for the Duke of Richmond and Lenox. A funeral Elegy for john Moray Esquire. These Books in number sixty three are here, Bound in one Volume, scattered here and there: They stand not thus in order in the book, But any man may find them that will look. FINIS.