Moderate Cavalier OR The Soldiers Description of IRELAND AND Of the Country Disease, With Receipts for the same: FRom Gloucester Siege till Arms laid down In Trewroe fields, I for the Crown Under St. George Marched up and down And then Sir, For Ireland came, and had my share Of Blows not Lands gained in that war But GOD defend me from such fare Again Sir. Take heed to thyself, lest theu make a Covenant with the Inhabitants of the Land whither thou goest, lest it be for a snare in the miast of thee, Exod: 34: 12, Only take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently, lest theu forget the things which thi●● eyes have seen, lest they depart from thy heart all the days of thy life. ●hus teach them thy sons and thy sons sons. Deut: 4. 9, A Book fit for all Protestants houses in Ireland▪ Printed Anno. Dom, MDCIXXV To the Protestant Nobility Gentry and Soldiery of Ireland, but more especially to the Woshipfull the Major Aldermen Sherriff, Citizens and Inhabitants of the City of Cork. A Soldier for the KING (great Sirs) to you Humbly presents this little book to view Which speaks of Stories old, and not of news Things to most of you known: may be of use In after ages, when we're dead and gone And 'mongst all Protestants worth thinking on He styles his book, The Moderate Cavalier Which who so reads, will find him so appear he's no Incendiary, to blow the fire Of descension 'mongst Factions; or desire Wars: being content with his low estate But's sorry that (too true) he can relate No more of good encouragement from friends To the poor Soldiers; who deserved amends For their past Service, ne'er to be forgot Whilst in Ireland's, an Englishman or Scott. Be pleased therefore (brave Sirs) to Patronise The Soldiers work, that to his Enemies He be not made contemptible, whose drift For a poor liveing's only to make shift Which being granted, the Soldier I say For you and yours Eternally shall pray. The Author upon his intent to have presented three dozen of these R●ks to the Major of Cork and his guests at his Feast when he first comes into his Office. GAllants, to Crown this Feast, you're here presented With a New dish of Poetry, Invented By a Soldier, and brought from Camp tothth' City Which speaks of serious things more than of witty Yet if in reading, it beget a smile I hope (dear friends) you're pleased well that while Behold three dozen Servitors appears Which are six files of Moderate Cavaliers All private Soldiers of the Forty Nine Revived with lost Arrears, byth' grand design Who come to make up a new Convivium Aut Fabulosum, Aut Historicum Their Root is Six, which makes a Battle square Their Front▪ their Flanks, their Rear, all equal are Silence once said, than they in Posture stand Till they receive the next word of Command. They will not Plunder, For you may your pocket Or Tru●k, leave to their charge and never lock it Be pleased to hear them speak, or you may find By looking on them, what is in their Mind If you done't like their Story, you may clap-em Byth' heels, Cashier or ●eare, or you may wrap-em About your Sweetmeats, or they'll light your Pipe Or at the worst, they'll serve your— to wipe If you do like their speech which is but Rustic They'll tell the Feats they have done with Pike & Musket How they have chased Teige, through woods & Bogs And frighted him, more than a Hare's with Dogs They'll tell how all Ireland, was at their cost Of Blood and Sweat, regained when it was lost Thus have I told you, what they are, and how They may prove serviceable unto you: It only rests that I Now for my pains No loser be: if that I get no gains Then, what you please, tothth' Poet, or the Printer 'TWill be an help to keep, a Fire in Winter MY Country Conscience, prompts me not at all ‛ On feigned Gods, but o'th' true God to call T'inspire my Muse, and help me to relate The poor English Protestant's case and State In Ireland, and to show how they grew poor And why so now, and then, let's God implore To be their aid, and pray him to enlarge Our Rich Countreymens' hearts, for to discharge Their duty natural: For I conclude, To Help their Helpers is but gratitude. These poor are such, whose mishap made them so And not their Sloth, as plainly here I'll show, Four hundred years, this venomless fair Land (Except the Natives hearts) was at Command Oth' English Sceptre, and Imperialll Crown, Whose often Conquests kept Rebellions down Till Forty one, when Hell broke lose: the Devil And Popish Priests, all plotting the uncivil Late bloody, barbarous and Inhuman war I want apt words, their malice to declare That Authors, Actors, and Contrivers were To kill and spoil the English every where Then spread abroad throughout this Isle in Peace At home, and in their beds a sleep, did these Hell-taught Furies, in one black dismal night One hundred thousand Murder, 'twas light (Except the light, they made by setting fire Oth' English dwelling houses) But t'inquire Of all the Tortures, and unheard of deaths (Till then) the tongue of any man that breaths Cannot express; much less than can my Pen For Burned, Hanged, Drowned & Whipped to doth were men Women with Child, and Babes but newly borne Alive ripped open, and to pieces torn Stripped naked forced to run through Furs & Thorns And hunted were with Dogs (having set Horns Upon their heads, to make them seem strange beasts Whreof they boasted, 'mongst themselves at Feasts All this was nothing to their Cruelty Which to escape, for England they must fly Where Men in haste are raised to suppress Those Cannibals, and help, these comfortless Who soon arrived (by God's blessing) here And dared the Slaves to Battle every where Twenty to one, Nay ●en, they judged no odds To give the Butchers, where the cause was Gods And in short space, a handful of Sick men This Bloody Nation had almost again Quite Conquered: But oh, alas! the War Twixt KING an Parliament, our Trophies mar Those Warlike spirits Quashed by a Cessation Of Arms; the bloody Rebels, take occasion To gather strength whilst our weak aids do scatter They seem, themselves with Victory to flatter Takeing advantage of the time, their Train Is brought with speed, their lost Forts to regain All's now their own, except some Seaport town And that's Besieged, and almost battered down Wherein lets leave them, praying for some aid And cross the Seas for England let us wade Where Agents do address themselves tothth' King And Parliament, more forces thence to bring But all in vain, their own turns first they'll serve Let Ireland sink or swim, or yield or Starve. When Youghall was besieged, and Cork blocked up Kinsale, and Bandon bridge dreading the Cup The Rebels had prepared for them to drink Of Ireland's sad estate, what could men think? The vast Estate of him that's now a Lord One bit of bread to him did not afford Would he not Promise much, but think ye then, To Warlike Officers and all their men That durst adventure but to fetch a Prey From his lost Lands; what promises I say Would he not make? should not the Soldiers share Be the one half at least, oth'gaine by war? Would he not Promise much, but think ye too If ere came Peace, what he for them would do? They should have Farms, to live on, at such Rates As if the same, had been their own Estates And, in all Cities, and the Markett towns They should be Freemen, if not wear Fur Gowns▪ Have ye not heard, how the Mouse in a Kieve Of good Ale drowning, promised to give Herself, toth'Cat, if she would help her out Of that same danger; whereof (there is no doubt) The Cat was glad; and forthwith lent her hand And brought her forth: The Mouse then at a stand What she should do; at length espied a hole Wherein she crept: the Car, seeing her stole Away; said, Faithless Mouse perform your word Or ne'er again such help' I'll you afford: The Mouse secure, tells her a pretty tale We keep no promises made in our Ale; So here I say, Soldiers were promised fair While to regain Ireland, most did despair But now▪ the work is done, they like the Cat Paid by the Mouse, are even laughed at. In England now the broils are grown so great Some for the King and others for the State That men grow scarce, the Father's up in Arms Against the Son, the Son again Alarms His Father's Quarters, Roundheads and Cavaliers They call each other in despite, and jeers They turn their Colters to sharp Spears, and Swords And fall to fight, more with Blows, than words There is no room for Cowards, all wil● fight 'Tis old men's glory, and the Youths delight It was long doubtful, which should overcome Sometimes the Crown prevailed, and other some ‛ Its Enemy: and to promote each cause For bounden Prentices they make new Laws, To take up Arms, and serve their times, i'th' war No Corporations, may their Freedoms bar This liberty proclaimed, like cursed Charms Emptyes the Shops, & fills the field with Arms Some borne by Men, but more, by Boys they're Soldiers That can but Musquetts carry on their shoulders. Most hurtful proved this Act, tothth' Age Fifteen And there abouts as now is plainly seen. For those that saved their lives, they lost their trades And learned to swagger 'mong'st the Roreing blades They, knew no Parents, but were Sons of Mars, Soldiers of Fortune, bred up in the Wars, Yet Novices they were, and spendthrifts too, Hott-mettled blades, they did themselves undo: Who was too greedy for the Upper hand, Which when 'tis got, than Soldiers must disband Buff Coats grow out of fashion, voted down And Arms must then give place unto the Gown Had they but fought, at the Low Country rate They'd better pleased the King, if not the State. But herein, let's not blame, the Victor's haste To end, those Civil Broils nor let us cast The name of Cowards▪ on the Royal bands Who were outwitted, not overcome with hands. Though we can't Judge, whose numbers were at first The Greatest; yet now we know who'd the worst The Statesmen, strove to weaken, still the King Whose, Project took effect in this one thing They, Ransomed still, their Prisoners of War Whereof the other Party, took no care But suffered theirs, to fill the Prisons, so That half their men, in field they could not show▪ Our English Irish Agents than addresses Make, for those Soldiers, and to them expresses Great Love, pity their present case, and then Do show the odds, 'twixt Prisoners and Free men They, further Urge: the Justness, of the cause 'Tis, for their Country, King, and all the Laws Of God, and Nature, 'gainst a Common Foe That they should fight, and into Ireland go Whilst here, they fought, but Brother against brother And dearest friends, were killing one another. The State consented, and the Prisoners yield To be at large, once more i'th' open field They cross the Seas, and hast, to Irish Shore Where getting foot-roome, soon do make it more They raise the Sieges, that before, was laid Against the Ports, where first to land they made Their Cause thus changed, a doubtful, for a Just one Tothth' of all their Foes, they boldly thrust on Where let us leave them, bravely making way For all the good, that's here enjoyed this day. The Royal Party, now in England, sees What 'tis, to lose such men: for by degrees They are o'ercome merely, for want of men And are past hopes, except, that one, beat ten Whereof, they do despair, knowing their Foe At Equal numbers, fought them, long ago Thus, weaker still, they grow, the other stronger They needs must yield, nor can they hold out longer. The War thus ended, th' Agents do Petition For fresh supplies, and show the sad condition Their friends are in, in Ireland; who do want Both Men, and money, and their Men Provant That are already there; a commit Reports their case, tothth' House, than they decree The Supernumeraries, to disband, Or send them over Seas into Ireland They give Commissions for to beat up Drums Throughout all England, and list all that comes For Soldiers; both Roundheads, and Cavaliers All are accepted. so they're Volunteers They promise them large pay, and 'tis no wonder The Rebel's goods, shall be to them free Plunder Each private man shall there, be a Frecholder And Gentleman to boot, is every Soldier. These Baits prevailed, with such as lost their trades In the late War, and could not get by Spades Their living; and of such, an Army's raised Who soon came o'er, and made the Rogues amazed They quit their weaker holds, fly to their stronger where they are Stormed, or else are Starved with hunger To Mountains, Woods, & Bogs, they're chased then (Not there secure) they're beaten out again In Loughs, and Islands then, they seek to hid Themselves, and villains; where to abide In safety, and unsought for, they suppose But they're deceived: for on dry land, such shows Of New built Shallops, Ships, & Boats appears Brought by these men, that out they pull byth' ears Those murdering Runaways: yet give them Quarter Who at the first, put the British to torture. Here, by the way (Reader) I thee advise To take notice, that I in any wise Do not ascribe, the glory o'th' Conquest To Men▪ but God; and where it is expressed The English suffered, or such seats did do Protestant's I mean; English and Scotch too, Who British are; for diff'recne I make none Between them, in any Service that's done For if I should, Mountroes' brave Army then Would be forgot; who were deserving Men Episcopants, and Presbyterians Independants and such Sectarians I give the Name of Protestants, to all That joined, against those that we Papists call Nor was the Conquest made▪ by Cavaliers Alone; Nor yet by the Parliamenteers: The Earl of Ormond, Noble was i'th' war And so was Inchyquin; who went as fare In danger, for the time they both Commanded As any men, could do till Cromwell Landed. Now when he came (to give the Deel his due) In Ireland he praiseworthy was; though true It is, for all his Acts, in England done Against both Kings, the Father, and the Son I count him base: But here some one may say His Irish Service too's, condemned this day: Well if it be, (I think) 'tis without cause For Ireland then, was in the very Jaws Of Death, and had been swallowed up, no doubt It the Irish, then had not got the Rout. But 'twas not He, nor his Army did all The Service, that was since done: as I shall Now make appear: for then, brave Sir Charles Coot Had been exempt, who so Nobly stood too't Maintaining of the Common cause; Gods just Revenge against Murder; whose very dust I honour, who in's Fathers steps so trod As to the Rebels, was the Scourge, or Rod Of the Almighty: He (by good advice) Did kill the Nitts, that they might not grow Lice The Lord of Broghill too, herein ought not Amongst the Worthies, once to be forgot. General jones, Reignolds, and many more Brave things in Ireland did, but (as before I said) These were Instruments; now the praise To God alone, let us return always. And left that Teige should say, He, for the King Did fight (which to me is a hateful thing) And pretend, that these Worthies, were his Fees My mind, and conscience, I will now disclose I think, they served God, the King; and State That were most Active, in breaking Teigs pate, Nay more I say; I think Broghil, an C●ot Against the King, never lift hand, or foot Whereas, the Irish Rebel-like, ran out Against the King, and Law: and meant (no doubt) To set the Pope above his head, whose right, Before the Kings, they did prefer, in spite. Can ever they, than (though deceitfully They seemed reformed) have claim to Loyalty I answer nay: God would not them permit To go unpunnished, for all their subtle wit They used: when vanquished, and quite overcome Then Teige, is for the King forscoth: for whom They Banished were, and with him were partakers In sufferings, imposed by his forsakers. No▪ they did the King much wrong: and great harms Pretending, for his right they took up Arms Yet▪ was not able him for to restore No: that's a work for those I named before Broghil, and Coot, with the Irish Brigade (So called) with Monk, their helping hands so laid That after subduing the Rebels here His Majesty in Peace, they brought in clear And reestablished him, in his Throne O'er whom on Earth Superior there's none▪ All this premised, the Rebels vanquished quite Fairly in Field, the Remnant put to flight Thus Ireland was reduced: But let's see how Our gallant Soldiers are requited now And whether they that have escaped their Graves By their own Country men are not made slaves And first I will begin with those (they say) Did Cromwell serve, who for Arrears of pay Had land sect out to them in satisfaction: You'd think them well: But truth is no detraction▪ Some private Soldiers, were by their Commanders Choosed of their Land, and Packed away to Flanders And he that would not go, but thought to stay And live on's Land, they sound another way To make him weary of it, by Law Suits Against him to commence, whereby the fruits Of all his hopes, his labour, and his Land; He spends at Law, his Capraine to withstand Wearied at Law, to purchase Peace, at last He sells his Land; and then that danger's passed▪ Now while his money la●ts, or some short space His Captain makes him Seargeant of that place But this ne'er holds for he with Cap in hand To's Captains wife at all turns cannot stand. Nor can he, Irish speak to buy and sell Nor tenants, can procure with them to dwell Then out he's turned, and in comes teige, in's room Whose double diligence, like a new Broome Sweeps all clean: is just tothth' Captain's mind What e'er, his Master says, he'll swear: so kind Besides, he proves tothth' Children, of his Master That, when the Maid chides them, he swears he'll basther With, Vo●rneen glagal, and Agra the crea He takes his Master's Son upon his knee And Streap●h granah, learns the Child, to call the Maid, Buddah a Man, adding taw Brawl: And then, teige laughs and swears by's gossip's hand His Father's son's, the best in all Ireland Thus filthy words, are taught the child in's Cradle Which seldom are left off, when come tothth' Saddle This pleases so the Mother of the child that, all teig does, is well: she's so beguiled With flattering, that now Teigs wife must Nurse The next Child she shall have: Teige swears his purse Shall be the Child's; Now, he's a Fosterfather Not for his own, but for this Child he'll gather he'll give the Child, a Coat I Bawn, of Bandle And buy it, Erogel gaulda, and then dandle The babe in's Arms, crying shane Poge, Cade Poge ●ic a me Vaister, Nab ●ousa Shane Oge? Yo● tow Lawnah: This pleases, more and more Teigs now of Kin that was not so before. Who now but Teige? His counsel so prevails, That all the English Servants, by his tales Are threatened to be turned away: his Cousins Come flocking round about him, by whole dozen Donnough the groom steps in, in Richard's place And Sbevane Oge, doth turn out gentle Grace Then Gilla Patrick, Hugh, and the Mac Roryes Are sent for home, who'd out amongst the Toryes With them their Morter-pieces: Owna, Sive And Moar great beastly Drones; creep into th' Hive Who so bewitch the Captain and his wife That these must be Followers, all their life. The English Neighbours (undegenerate) These Fury's cause their Fosterer to hate. Do Trespass on their land, and drive to Pound The honest men's Cattle, off their own ground To Law they go, now all things suit in fitness And Right or wrong, Teige is the Captains Witness▪ But may we think that Teige and his Crew To their Fosterer, will always prove true? No: you may swear it; for▪ what's bred i'th' bone Will not out of the flesh, when all is done. 'Tis known too well, in Ages past, how they Behaved themselves in peace; and how i'th' day Of war, their friendship, was but feinged, in peace Which gave them great advantage, to increase Rebellions: Then, would show their Cruelty To Gossips, and their Fosterers: and why Should any think, that these, who are the seed And offspring, of a Murderous Bloody breed Be otherwise than they? Had these but power Both Root and Branch, of English in one hour They would destroy: are we not Heretics? Say they, and was not that one o'th' old tricks Their Priests did use, to stir them to Sedition And Protestants to kill, would they not give Commission▪ Yea: Would they not absolve; the breach of Oaths 'Gainst King, and State: their Church, & Pope so loathe A Protestant? Their Antichristian Spirit Bids Murder us, and Saints them too for Merit What confidence in oaths, then may we have, Of Papists taken, I would of you crave? Do we not see, It is their chief Ambition Amongst the Protestants to make Division? 'Twas they, invented names, of Separation In our Religion: which by imitation Of them (for distinction sake) we did use; But in the Tract of time, did so abuse Our friends, that at length, they were held as Brands Of infamy: and weakened so our hands That amongst Protestants, grew as much strife As Papists e'er could wish: except the Life Of every one, that did not go to Mass Whereat they only aimed to bring to pass For when distinction was, 'twixt Old and New Protestants then such hatred grew As if Turks▪ jews, and Infidels combined Had been byth'ears, for what each one designed, And 'twixt the standing Army and disbanded Grew jealousies, which was the better Landed They caused the Forty nine for to suspect The Fifty three, as though through their neglect They was not satisfied with them: that they Remember might, their Christmas-box this day And I believe nothing hath drawn a Curse On English New interests, or proved worse Than that the Forty Nine had not Arrears Who served faithfully, in want Eight years Against the Common foe: which thing reflects On the Estates now, of the greedy Sects. Nor is it mended yet, since private men That well deserved, are now deceived again By their own Officers; pretending they Of Cromnell since had Arrears of their pay Yet many of them, never since did serve And those that did; they must do so or starve▪ But 'tis all one, Cromwell and Forty Nine Those private Soldiers Arrears did design Sold ne'er be paid: God grant it prove no Rot To the Estates the Officers have got Again Betwixt the Old and New Interest To move Law, Hath not Teige done his best? In brief they'd hand in all the hurt was done Amongst the English, since the world begun But here some may object, that the whole Nation Of Irish to this Charge, has no relation. For some, have proved their Innocence so clear As 'tis not fit to criminate them here, And others have been faithful all the wars, Whose bodies can their valour show by Scars. All this is granted; but o'th' first, I say One in ten thousand, is the most that may Be so supposed: whose Constant good affliction Did prove: though others (Living in Protection Durst not run forth) Penned up i'th' English Quarters Did Newters stand, who feared to die Martyrs As some, would brag, they did (who had betrayed The place they lived in) when sufferers were made And for the last, though Irish by Extraction I count them English for that very action. This answered thus, another may again Object: what though the Irish did in vain Their own Religion strive for to advance▪ They had Precedent for it our of France. But being overcome; should Cruelty Be measured back to them? that I deny▪ And leave to him, who said, Vengeance is Mine I will repay: To whom let us confine▪ Ourselves: yet while we thus resolve, shall we Unto our Countrymen, ungrateful be? In showing Mercy, forget to be just, Prefer our Foes, before our friends and thrust The Protestants, that helped us in our need Out of Employments, Papists put in stead? I answer, Nay: For that there is no reason. Ye don't we see 'tis just so at this season Begin at Dublin, the chief Regal City And mark how squares go there (the more's the pity) Though English, be the Judges, Irish Clerks Do there abound, With confidence like sparks Oth' world they Domineer: and who but they? With Cap in hand to them, brave Soldiers pray Ith' Court they will be seen; But go to Church There Teige and D●rmot leaves you in the Lurch. In Customs, Excize, Offices for Cloth Leather, Measures, Chimneys and to say troth In all Money-matters, they are Projectors And most on end employed to be Collectors Let's down into the Country come and see How all things there do go, whos'ever be High Sheriff an Irish man is the Under Then for the Bailiffs to be so's; not wonder Apparatours i'th' Bishop's Court who'd they? But Irish: and Who are Atturney's prey? And Proctors, are not they the very men? For one English, of them is there not ten? Is not the Army stuffed, with such like trash They're Ala mode de France, each one with's sweet A dirty Crevate, or a Fox-Furre Muffs And some of them brave fellows are in Buff ●ooted and Spurred, have cast off their old ●roges And wear great Breeches, that were Trowzed like Rogues With Vest and Tunic, stead of Blue Freeze Je●kin Can now tell tales of Madam and her Rhyme too't— Merkin An Irish man was seen in days of Old But with a Skean, while now we do behold Him with a Rapier or a good Back sword A cross his Arse, with Dam at every word. These are the Props that now support this Nation God grant they hold if e'er come alteration, All things thus ordered makes the English poor And poorer needs must be, while they're crowed o'er By e'vry Snap: For th' Irish wait upon Our Gentry, where they do but keep a man. Now here (perhaps) some would themselves excuse 'Tis not for love, they do the Irish use In all Employments, spoken of before, But cause their konwledge is therein fare more Than English have: But I say that surmise Is false, and won't pass Muster, with the wise, Who know the little skill the Irish have They learned it of the English; yet none (save Some few of them) that are in any art Their Crafts-Masters: although for th'botching part Degenerate English, and their own Nation Will them employ, 'gainst which there's no persuasion And here again (methinks) I hear some grumbling Against my last Assertion; and much mumbling Concerning Scholarship: all Uulgar mouths Are open▪ affirming this Country youths In Latinc fare exceed our English who Feign Common consent: gave them long ago Pre-eminence, For Schoolmasters therefore They will have Irish: oh! who, than we, more Stupid? Good God since this, so long hath past For Currant with most men, now at the last, Help my blunt quill, and my duller brain These foolish dreams, and fictions to restrain Amongst my Countrymen: open their eyes And let them see, what they believed were lies Remove that plague, which doth so many seize-on And grant, they may at length be ruled by reason. I say of Learning the Irish may not boast For any thing yet seen in all their Coast No Art, or Science, have have they yet found out No Treatise of Religion, and I doubt No History: or good Romance worth reading Was yet by any of them writ, and spreading In any part oth'world: what they do call Philosophy (wherein their boasts not small Is skill in Sophistry: wherewith to wrangle They are well versed who do Trifles jangle And with a Pack of learned Cow-boys they May with the world compare: none says them Nay On th'other side, Whole Volumes, English works through Christendom havegone: yea'mongst the Turks 'Tis true, some Irish speak good Latin: though The most of their Schoolmasters do not so But none of them can speak one word of Greek or Hebrew; in those tongues they are to seek Where all the English that do bear the name of Scholars; are good linguists in the same. And such as through the Gramar scarce have read In England, are Doctors to them here bred. The Padagog●es here cried up Humanists May blush (if shame they had, to come ith'Lists Of our half-Gramarians; All but the blind And obstinate, this truth can easily find. Nothing hath done more hurt tothth' English Nation Than Irish Schoolmasters by all relation The Fosterer, the babes, the Schools the youth, Do English turn to Irish: of a truth Their Speech, and Manners, are corrupted so That Mongrell-English may for Irish go As in all Ages past, they had an hand In all Rebellions hatched within this Land So will they still, it much is to be doubted join with the Irish; if they be not Routed For many of them, who were well to pass From Church have lately turned: now go to Mass, So then the Nurse, Schoolmaster, and the Priest Do foster, Teach and Preach up Antichrist. The Cannons of the English Church forbidden Such Schoolmasters; yet of them we're not rid And divers Statutes were in Ireland made Against them, Fostering and Priests, now laid Behind the backs of such as rule the roast For 'mongst the Great ones they're connived at most Though some of them are free from Imputation Of such like deeds, It is my chief persuasion Some Justices of Peace for their own ends To my own knowledge have bespoke their friends To send their Children to an IrishMaster A Papist, and but a Gramaticaster And seded him within an English town Wherein were English SchoolMasters, and down Have voted them; whose skill (if not exceed) Did equal his: of whom there was no need Unless it were to teach an Irish smack To such as did it in their English lack. This ill Example gave occasion to The Common people for the like to do And by such means the Bread is ta'en away Out of the English mouths, now at this day A good requital, for their coming o'er Soldiers into this Land: and it is more Than Probable, 'twill prove an Invitation To other English, for planting of this Nation Shibboleth. Iephthah's word recorded stands Which tried the Rebel Ephraimites, whose bands Were scattered, when Forty and two thousand At ●ordan, Passages fell by his hand Though they themselves Ephraimites denied By Sibboleth pronouncing they're descried. So here I say the tongue will soon discover Which is the man that is an Irish lover Bid him but say, This thing in Mouth A Third he'll fairly say, Dis Ting in Mout A Tired. Some say the water of St. Patrick's well When English drink thereof, like to a Spell By Magic Art procured makes them forgetful Of English Manners: others hold deceitful Is the Irish Clime transforming men's minds Tothth' Country Customs, turning with all winds But not the Water, nor the Irish Clime Have power o'er Noble minds Spirits sublime Contemn the Elements: there's no mutation With them, Nor subject are to alteration. 'Tis he who hath an evil eye, whose mind Is not with Virtue but full fraught with wind And such as place their chiefest happiness In things below the Sun▪ whose thoughts are less To be good than great feign would have excuses For unjust actions: and father abuses Done to their Neighbours on the land or water When their base hearts are guilty of the matter▪ He well observed in writing Ireland's Story Sir john Davies Since first the English Conquered it the (the glory Whereof he gave to Strongbows Martial hand Who then made England's King Lord of this Land) How that the great Estates some Chieftains had Within three Ages, made them prove as bad Or worse than the Wild-Irish were before For they did much oppress, and Lord it o'er Their followers, that helped them for to gain The Country: So that these poor souls were feign For England, from their Tyranny to fly Here quitting their Estates, when by and by Broke forth Rebellions; for the strongest hand was all the Law they would have in this Land. Then England would be forced again to send More Men to make new Conquests, and defend The Title, which to Ireland it did claim For the first Conquerors, were scarce in name English; Degenerating so in manners That they did March under the Rebel's Banners And it was harder to suppress that crew Than the Wild Irish; who was beat by few. Nay 'tis supposed the Major part this day Of Irish, are but Mongrells such as they For many of Queen Elizabeth's men In these last Wars were Rebels, But 'tis ten To one, that they were Papists, or my life For it, they Married had an Irish wife Which were grand Causes of degeneration Ever observed to happen in this Nation. 'Twas not for want of wholesome Laws still made So long it was Ireland could be said, To be an English Plantation: but 'cause There wanted Execution of those Laws For, had Oppression been but peeped into The meaner sore had lived here as they do In England, where Yeomen, and Tradesmen dare Demand their debts o'th' best not standing bare And if the statutes against Fosterers And those made, against Irish, SchoolMasters And Priests, had been observed: this Land had then Been well planted, with perfect English men Such as to flatter, are ashamed: or turn From English principles, would sooner burn Who love their Country speech, be't ne'er so broad Beyond an Irish Tone: though their abode Be in the Country, choose to be untarght Rather than learned (esteeming that so naught) If none but Irish Teachers they can have They'd Latin Jack their Native tongue to save And rather than marry an Irish wife Will Bachelors remain for term of life And for Religion, had rather than Papists Be any thing: the Heathens and mere Athists Did never hold, To Murder men was Just Because, not of their Sect. As Papists must Believe: to kill an Heretic is Merit Monsters in Nature! that's their Devilish Spirit▪ The English Custom's, not to put to Nurse Their Children, until Gold have filled their purse Or esse the Mother can't give suck, and then They claim no Foster-kindred, being Men Nor are they Fostered up in Idleness Although, their Parents do great wealth possess But they do bring them up at such a rate As is most suitable, to their Estate Some, shall their Youth at School and College spend Others, at Inns of Court, their Studies end Some go to Trades, others their Stately Teams Are wont to drive: Whilst here all's in extremes A Gentleman or Churl, Scholar or Cowboy No Trade but Merchant serves for every Plowboy. He that can reckon but his Pedigree▪ Twenty descents from a Gentleman, He I say as a poor gentleman will beg All o'er the Kingdom, till he hath one leg i'th' Grave rather than he will so disgrace His fare fetch Kindred, and their Gentile race By being of a Trade, though ne'er so good He will be Hanged first, and not slain his Blood. Another Evil in Ireland we see Which happens most to such as English be Farmers can't live unless their Wealth be great Or be befriended by some Potentate A Freehold worth ten pounds a year's no more To live on: than to make the owner Poor Who must attend all Sessions and Assizes And Turns and County Courts, and all devices That may be if his land do Bound, or's near Any Great Man's: He dares not but be there Or else he ' s Fined, a Quarter's Rent at least That in short space, he shall not have a Beast To ride on, or a Garran for to Plough 'Twas ever foe in Ireland: and so 'tis now: Then feign he'd set his Land, But who dares take it For he must Selled out right, or quite forsake it 'Cause this Great man, doth only aim to Hate He Sells it to him, even at's own Rate. Then if he's Wife, for England he'll away Before all's gone; where that in Peace he may Of a small Stock, or by a working hand Live better there: than here on's Freehold Land▪ To go, or stay, now doubtful is the matter For live he can't here well, if he can't Flatter▪ And if therein, he get not the right knack He shall have Teige and Dermott on his back With Mongrel Sheorge, and his appostate friends To sit on's skirts ('gainst whom good Lord defends) Who will backbite him, and traduce him, so That though he's poor, yet poorer he shall grow. Ill said, Clothed, and Lodged, the man falls sick And (weary of the world) cares not how quick Death summons him unto the silent grave Who trusts in Christ, that he his Soul will save He life's not long, but yet he doth survive His neighbour's Charity, which he alive Amongst his Countrymen, long since saw dead Who unto Dogs, do throw the children's bread And will use means, to save an Ox, or Cow Of their own, but their poor Countryman now They have no need of▪ for he looks for Cates They say; is too fine mouthed, and at the rates The Irish de, can't live: give them Potatoes They'll Boil, and Roast, and struck up their Moustaches This makes them Teige employ,▪ cause he will serve For l●sse than English can; so they must starve. Thus Irish far, must serve the man that labours Which hath destroyed, many poor English neighbours. The honest man thus deed, now goes to wrack That family▪ his widow at her back Gets up their youngest child: the rest byth' hand She takes and goes to him who hath much Land (An English man suppose) and tells her grief And for her, and the children, begs relief▪ From thence, they strike o'er, to an Irish Village Where Stacks of Corn they see, and store of tillage But when they're there, the people of the place Come round about them, stareing in their face And call them Clan Igaudas in disgrace That without Alms, from thence they trudge apace Then do they go, to such another man Though ten miles off (if one such find they can As was the children's Father) though no kin With whom they do make bold; he takes them in And sets such meat before them, as he eats Condoles their case; and gives advise (not threats) To go for England, amongst their own friends And (when refreshed) a Garrane to them lends To bring them to some town, with English planted Who have not yet forgot that they once wanted Such men as was these poor soul's Father▪ and They make a purse, to send them for England: Where (we suppose) they shall some comfort find 'Mongst Christians there, who will relieve their kind And where I leave them, sadly to report How our Grandees, Oppress the meaner sort Which to confirm, and to make Assidavit I'd bring Ten thousand, if need were to have-it▪ But now, 'cause this poor Man, doth personate The major part o'th' English: who of late Were Soldiers; let me not begrudge my breath To tell how it was sound, he came by's Death. The Crowner being called (one Mr, Justman Whom, if I mayn't believe, I'll never trust-man) In pannelled a JURY, whose Foreman Was Mr. Reason, next him (if I can tells name) I think was Mr. Look-sharp, who With three more such was sworn, and next unto Them▪ Mr. Experience: with his Pair-Royall And three with Mr. Telltruth, passed o'th' Trial. First Reason he began the Corpse to view He passed byth'old wounds, and looked about for new But finding none; he Judged him to die O●● Countrey-Disease, or some malady Inward; which mastered had, his vital part And did suppose Oppression went to's heart, Next, Mr. Look-sharp with his three espied OId wounds that were on's head, and some▪ on's side Which looked like Cutts, & Thrusts or Stalls with Skeans The least whereof might well have been a means To have brought him to's end: for such like Scars Had many Killed, the first day of the Wars▪ But 'cause they saw them whole, they passed them by And on his meager face, they east their eye Which did denote he had been hardly used And (to say truth) was over much abused They spied his neck to bend, his Shoulders black As if he'd borne Oppression on his back Which made them judge, that gave the man his Bane Whereat the Corpse, did (as 'twere) Sneeze again Then said Experience, and his three Friends The Countrey-Disease in three kinds extends Itself: first Murder, than the Blondy-●lix Which hath consumed more men, by three▪ in six Than did the Sword, in the late Bloody War The lasts Oppression whereof let's take care. Oth' First and Last Ireland was never free But to the Last, let's Death ascribed be. At length comes telltruth who brings up the Rear And his companions, all speak without fear: That this man had been long sore sick: But never Had any comfortable thing whatever To cure his grief: the man was since the day, that he with his Land parted They said, he faintly spoke on his Deathbed Not all the Wounds he had received on's head And in his body: Some at Knocknonosse Some at Conmell, at Lymrick and at Rosse No nor the Bloody Flux: but 'twas Oppression That did him Kill: to God he make's Confession And did declare tothth' World; it grieved him more To see the English make the English poor Than all the hardships, he did endure And 'twas too late then, to prescribe him cure He prayed God to forgivetheir Sin, and turn Their hearts: for whom to's Death, he needs must mourn Cause Evil they had done for Good, and did conclude They was most guilty of Ingratitude. Though 'tis but some English (I'll not say all) Are so: and those too now, I hope mend shall. This said; it was the Vote o'th' whole Enquest The man had lived, had he not been Oppressed Which is one kind of the Countrey-Disease Infectious and Mortal in times of Peace When bred of Wealth grows envious and haughty Good men's enemy, and friend to the naughty. Now since the Disease is found out; the Cure (To take't in time) may be effected sure; The Learned say, whose sayings let ', respect Remove the Cause, that takes away th'Effect. I'm not Physician, but (by chance) have got Three good Receipts, which (in my mind) may not Be much unfit to be prescribed here To cure this Countrey-Disease; far and near. The first Receipt. AGainst the first kind, credit while call●d Murthor ne'er trust an Irish Papist, further than you can throw an Ox: and if he flatter Suspect deceit, to be the end o'th' matter. Let him not wear a Sword, nor yet a Sk●an Nor be too intimate with him if mean You do to sleep in a whole skin: Put not A Gun into his hands Powder or Shott To kill the Daws, Nor give, or Lend, or Sell To such as he, though he shoot ne'er so well Let him not be your Fowler, if you can In Ireland find, but any English man, For by such means they Armed themselves at first And after that into Rehellion burst And with the Weapons of the very Owner Have Murdered him: their hearts as hard as stone-are. Let him not ride in the Militia-troops Nor in a Man of War (whose stately Poops Was not ordained for Shamrogeers) to serve Lest they Betray or else, do from you swerve. Whereby the English, may at Sea, and Land This Dear-bought Kingdom, keep under command Let not the want of Numbers invite The Ppaists aid, to Join with you in fight But, Trust on God, to Help you in your need Not Isr'el-like on Egypt's broken Reed. The Scriptures do declare, Armies have been Too great for God to lead: and that was seen By David, and valiant jonathan Said, God could save by few; the arm of man He did despise: so says the Sacred Story Lest to themselves, Men should a scribe the glory. If any private Murder chance to be (As from such like, this Nation's seldom free Let not the Murderer escape, whose blood Shall be on his own head, and reason good GOD'S Law doth warrant it▪ let not affection Favour or fear, or any man's Protection Save the Offenders life: Who sheds man's Blood By Man shall his be shed: though ne'er so good Let not pretence of Valour, or a Duel Have countenance in Law, or to the cruel Murderer, be hopes of pardon; this sure against all Murder (if not to say cure) Is a good Antidote taken in season This Kingdom to preserveith ' eye of Reason. The Second Receipt. THis second kind, doth only bear the name Of the Countrey-Disease: in war, this same Doth use t'outvie the Sword; the cause is want Of wholesome diet, and good Lodgings scant From whence this Disease doth proceed: Fresh men Are subject most to this; scarce one, in ten But at some time or other, hath been sick of this very Disease: 'tis not so quick As is the former kind; yet more have died Of it, than of any other beside. Med'cins for th'Flux are plenty; some will drink▪ New Al● over the Kieve for it: some think The leanest flesh of a Buttock of Beef Fresh, and half broiled, Griskin-like's the chief▪ As forth ' Ague-in England, so we here For this, Receipts have store; that I'll for bear Now, any more to name: 'cause I intent But this one preservative to commend. First keep Rebellions down, which causeth War War bringeth Scarcity, and that Hard fare Hard fare, and cold, causeth the Bloudyflux Which Thousands English, into their Gravesplucks▪ Now if War happen, to be counted wise Better than heretofore, your Soldires' prize. Let them have constant Pay, to buy them food And see their Provant, be wholesome and good: And let their Garrisons unto them yield Good Lodgings; and when out they go tothth' Field Let them have Tents, and pitch on Champaign ground Where Fire and Water, may be easily found All things so ordered, will doubtless prevent The Bloudyflux▪ to Armies incident This last in War; the rest in simes of Peace Are Medicines, against the Countrey-Disease. The Third Receipt. AGainst Oppression, thus runs my Receipt Take out of Holy Scripture, every Threat pronounced against that Sin: spread them upon A fine cloth of Understanding: let none Of them be lost; and if your Plaster crumble Or stick not fast; your Understanding humble By dipping it ith'Oyle of Grace: then cling (As'twere a Cere-cloath) 'twill tothth' Ulcerous thing That done, apply the Plaster to the part That doth Oppress (which most on end's the Heart Thence ne'er remove it, till it make you say (Like Samuel) behold I'm here this day Witness against me now, before the Lord And before his Anointed; (say the word) Whose Ox have I taken? whose Ass? or whom Have I defrauded? let the Oppressed come; Of whose hand, have I any Bribe received To blind mine eyes therewith? be not deceived) And I will it restore to them. I doubt If some Men here, should say the like; then out Would come an answer, not like his: the Poor English would say; then first our Arms restore Which you unjustly took away, by force Not paying what they cost us out of purse Wherewith (by God's blessing we did regain This lost Kingdom, and made you Lords: in vain Have we ventured our Lives, and lost our Blood To get Estates for you: if this be good Requital Judge ye? sure it was not so That Isr'el answered Samuel: No, no, They said, thou hast not us defrauded, not Oppressed us: neither didst thou take for A Babe, aught of any man's hand; the Lord And his Anointed witness, 'tis our word. This Medicine may be fit for the trusties Oth' Forty-Nine; who (by their licking Fees I'll not say Bribes) have got such vast Estates Makes Wise Men think, of what the Vulgar prates The Green-Chamber business, was but a Cheat Not well perceived, (their Juggling was so neat) Till now; we see, theirs was an Army strange All Officers, No Soldiers, could they range In Muster-Rolls: it seems, they all were Slain And their Dead-Pays; tothth' trusties now remain. This Med'cin's for the use of such as have A mind like Ahabs, to whom, his Wise gave Naboths Vineyard; because it was so near The Kings: let such the Prophet's Judgement fear And (if the Courts of Claims have done amiss) T●●● Medicine for their Cure prescribed is. Yet I for my part can no Man accuse And (if I could) I should be loath to use ●●y pen 'gainst English, they too my Superiors To whom, is Honour due; from all inferiors Some ●old the want of Money, and bad Tradeing Somes of Oppression; nay there is no wading In this great Sea, where that a Ship may ride Not Sound the Depth, at lowest Ebb of Tide. Oppression, is so various that I Can only Hint, what's obvious to each eye: The Wearer of the Shoe, he best doth know Whether it wring his Instep or his Toe. Then briefly where to do, Men make profession As they'd be done to, that doth cure Oppression. The Author's Prayer. NOw thou O God, who didst the Heavens make The Sea▪ and Land: when first the word thou spoke Let there be Lihgt; 'twas so; to thee alone We poor Distressed English, make our moan O God, who art the Scarcher of all hearts Tryest the Reins, and in the inward parts Of Man, has writ thy Law; Reveal I pray. Thy will On Earth, that our Governors may Know that they Rule for thee: the Kingdom's thine And in thy hand, all Power is Divine Make them to dread thy Name, that sit at Helm Lest by ill Steering, they at length o'er whelm This floating bottom Ireland, spoiled of Rigging Since th' English lost the Wells of their own digging▪ Their own, say I? ' 'twas. thou didst take this land From a Barbarous People, and in our hand Hast given it: that we should not do like The Nations, whom thou didst in fury strike O let, our Rulers see, that they alone Were not the men, that hath this Kingdom won Nor, that they can defend the same, from harm By humane policy, or fleshly arm. When Israel did all th' abominations Of the Heathen, and round about the Nations Thou didst drive out, whose Land thou didst them give Thou mad'st them flee before their Foes, and live Captives in a strange Land: so let us sear That our Back-slidings, make us not appear Like them: then, what may we, from thee expect But that our punishment, may in effect Be like to theirs? good God, take thou away From our Great Men, their stonyhearts I pray And give them Hearts of Flesh: that every one May do, but as unto, he would be done. Remove O Lord the spleen, and take away The Gall that's in men's hearts, now at this day Who Persecute their Brethren, without Cause Wresting the Old, and inventing New Laws To punish Anabaptists, and the Quakers And make the Cov'nanters, turn Cov'nant-breakers▪ Grant this Good God, and whatsoever more Thou knowest needful for us, we implore Thy Divine Goodness, to bestow it on us And answer every Lord have Mercy 'pon us Pronovnced at Church, at home, or other place With tokens of thy Favour, and thy Grace. The KING, his Counsels, and his Kingdoms bless And all his Subjects, the Great ones, and the Less The Reverend Clergy, each man in his station The Layman too, which comprehends the Nation▪ Yea, and the Irish, that are honest hearted Gods blessings be amongst them all imparted▪ And last of all O God, Bless, and defend Both me, and mine; and so I make an END. The Conclusion. ALL things that e'er beginning had Must have an end; be't good, or bade So hath this Book, a Story sad that's come sir To see you and some special friends And prays you give your recommends To those in power that may defends from some sir That would abuse the Cavalier For writing what he hath done here Though 'tis not half, I'll make appear he could sir Who is so Moderate, that drives At the amendment of men's lives And that Peace be amongst them, strives there should sir. Now, if the Soldier favour find Amongst his friends, to be so kind As to Imprint his Book: my mind to you sir▪ I'll tell; is that the Kingdom o'er It go, to show what some before ne'er knew: and I'll say more 'tIS TRUE SIR A Dialogue, betwixt the Soldier, Author of the Book, and an Echo, being a summary Discourse of the whole matter; briefly resounded by the Echo. Sold: Hark I here is an Echo; listen and hark Each: Mark: S: I will ralk with it, shall I nor now? Each: Now: S: and tell the passage●● and then mark Each: Mark: S: what answer it make 〈…〉 ●●ll how▪ Each: How: S: the Irish into Rebellion first Each: First: S: gathered in a Riotous Rout? Each: Rout: S: against Protestants, their fury burst Each: Burst: S: for they were so full it needs must out; Each: Out. S: of all measure was the cruel Papist Each: Papist: S: Bloody: a Murderous Rogue was Teige Each: Teige: S: and Dermot too, worse than a mere Atheist Each: Atheist: S: who Covenant keeps, there is no league Each: League: S: but the Pope doth indulge to be broke Each: Broke: S: who to the rebels sent into Ireland Each: Ireland: S: a Bull, that made the Kingdom smoke Each: Smoak; S, and to burn, as if it were a firebrand Each, Firebrand S; so starting mad, the Bull was made Each; Made. S, so that the British should be peeled Each, Peeled, S, plundered, their Cattles stolen & preyed Each, Preyed: S, and every Protestant should be Killed Each, Killed, S, hanged, star●ed, to pity no-man Each, No-man, S, that was of British race, a child Each, Child, S, newly born, and every tender Woman Each, Woman, S, to put toth'Sword, he judged too mild Each, Mild, S, So was the Bull for the POWDER PLOT Each, Plot, S, the Lords Anointed must not be spared Each, Spared, S, than all his Kingdoms sure should not Each, Not, S, but the Lord (who for our safeties cared Each, Cared. S, his Name alone be praised) then Each, Then, S, both the King and State preserved. we see Each, See, S, which should be a warning to all men Each, Men S, Watchful and Careful always to be Each, Be, S, Pondering these things and keeping sober Each, Sober, S, so that they may always Remember Each, Remember, S, FORTY ONE the month OCTOBER Each, October, S, and the FIFTH day of NOVEMBER. Each, NOVEMBER. FINIS.