A late Weary, Merry Voyage, And Journey: OR, John tailors month's travels,  
By Sea and Land, from London to Gravesend, to Harwich, to Ipswitch, to Norwich, to Linne, to Cambridge, and from thence to London:  
Performed and written on purpose to please his Friends, and to pleasure himself in these unpleasant and necessitated Times.  
Printed in the year, 1650.   

To the Judicious, or Ignorant Reader, the Author sends this loving advertisement.  
Gentlemen and Yeomen:  
LET me entreat you not to use my book as you do your Oysters, (which you open in the middle) it is not so handsome entering into a house through a window, or the backside, as it is in the front or foredoore: He's no good Courtier that falutes a fair Lady behind, nor can that Reader find the true sense of any Book or Pamphlet that begins at Finis: It is a preposterous kind of feeding for a man to eat his Cheese before his roast-meat, and after that to sup up his broth. So much for Introduction and Instruction. I thank my Dictionary I am furnished with as much broken Latin as declares my perambulating condition; Vado, bids me to go, Vadens, commands me to be going, and Vagu●, puts me in mind of wandering, but quo Gentium fugiam, to what place or corner of the World shall I go or fly to, there lies the question: To stay at home I was in a starving condition, and to go from home, I was in a Dillemma or wavering betwixt Hope and Diffidence, to what place, whither, to whom, why, wherefore, and how my resolution was constantly inconstant, and my determinations so slippery, that I could find no steadfast footing in my mind, which ways to bend my course: But considering that I had made eleven Vagaries, Voyages, and journeys before; and that one fling more would make my Labours a dozen (much like the twelve Labours of Hercules in number, though far unequal in quantity, quality, weight, and measure) To make my uncertain travels a complete Jury, I framed this following humorous Bill, which I gave to divers persons of sundry Functions, Callings, Dispositions, and Humours.  
Anno Domini, 1650.  
Whereas John Taylor doth intend to make a progress this Summer (He knows not when, or whither) to see some Friends in the country, (He knows not who,) being certain that his Journey and entertainments will be (He knows not how;) and that he purposeth to return again to London (He knows not what time;) and that he intends to write a Relation of his perambulations (He knows wherefore:) That when he doth give me (or cause to be delivered to me) the said Relations aforesaid, that then I will freely give to him for the same, in good English money, the sum of somewhat; though neither myself, or he, knows how much or little, that somewhat may be: To the which engagement I have subscribed my name and dwelling: where, if at his return, he do kindly find me, he shall friendly feel me.  
TO this unfellowed matchless Bill, there are many men that have subscribed to pay me money for this book at my return. I thank God I am not so light of belief as to believe that they will all pay me; nor will I despair 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 some are as willing to pay as they were to subscribe. The Countries that I have footed, have been fruitful, plenteous, with abundance of most good things (except news and Cuckolds) but such stuff as my Observations collected, I ambled to distribute to delight my Friends, to please mine Enemies, and pleasure myself.  
John Taylor.   

A late Weary, Merry Voyage, &c.  

TIme was, this Land was sick of Peace & Wealth,  
And War, and Poverty must give her Health:  
Grave Reformation, physic did apply,  
And Mars himself used much Phlebotomy;  
I will not say our Land was full of Witches  
To charm us to contemn our Peace and Riches;  
But my belief is fixed, my thoughts are piched;  
One half were Witches, th' other half bewitched.  
Stern War hath let us bloodith' Master vain,  
And many a pursy purse did purge and drain.  
Thus Plenty made us proud, and War doth show  
How good Peace was, and how ourselves to know.  
Affliction is the Line, the hook the Net  
To catch us from the World, they new beget  
Our souls to heaven, and by a gracious Birth  
Lifts up our minds to slight this sordid Earth.  
And I do wish all Sects, strifes, contradictions,  
Would make such use of England's sad afflictions.   

And now a short discourse of travelling  
Of Travellers, and of my wandering:  
The Sun's a Traveller (and a great one too)  
In twice twelve hours, he round the World doth go;  
The moon surrounds us in her changing sphere,  
Three hundred sixty and five times a year.  
But yet the thoughts of man more quick doth run  
Then flashing lightning, or the moon or Sun.  
My restless thoughts can in a moment leap  
To Heaven, and thence to the infernal deep.  
To Europe, Asia, and America,  
To the orient Indies, to hot Africa;  
The Summer, autumn, Winter, and the Spring  
Are in perpetual motion, travelling.  
And though my thoughts (like other mens' are vain,  
Winds, Seas, nor storms, my thinking can restrain.  
At Travellers, let no man carp or cavil,  
Our Mothers (at our births) were all in travel.  
And from our birth unto our burial,  
In divers Functions we do travel All.  
The footmen's feet, the Statesman's working brain,  
In travel, labour, and continual pain  
Do spend themselves, and all their courses bend  
For private ends (to no end) till they end.  
The Lawyer travels, his tongue (swift with slight)  
Sells his words dear, by measure, tale, and weight:  
And those that buy them dear, do often find  
They paid well for good words, but words are wind.  
All men are born to travel, each man must  
With pain and travel, turn unto his dust:  
Then happy is the man that can go right,  
Who doth his paths with David's lantern light.  
And all my life time it hath been my fate  
To be a traveller legitimate:  
From head to heel, by either Land or Sea  
I am a Traveller, Right Cape a Pe●.  
Now Clothoe, my poor vital thread hath spun,  
And Lachesis, her r●eling work's near done:  
Now Atropos is ready with her Knife  
To cut the uncertain feeble twist of life;  
Now in my autumn, or my fall o'th' leaf  
Half dead, half living, half blind, lame, half deaf,  
Now all these five halves can not make one whole  
(From my head unto my body bearing sole)  
Now at this time, with brains, and feet, and pen,  
I am an old new Traveller again.  
'Tis not the greatness of Goliath can  
Persuade me to be lesser than a man:  
She's called a ship, whose burden's but four score,  
And one that's fifteen hundred is no more.  
Though Folio be our learned volumes, yet  
Decimo sexto, may express some wit.  
A generous mind respects the poor man's Mite,  
'Tis said, a lark is better than a Kite.  
Nor would I have the Reader to mistake,  
That odious bold comparisons I make:  
Pamphlets must not compare with Reverend Writings  
Of Theologues, or Historians grave inditings.  
The owl must not as high as th' Eagle flee,  
Yet owls are fowls, as well as Eagles be.  
So I, that am poor, weak, Aquatticus,  
A Traveller, and Poet Minnimus,  
The honour, wholly, humbly I ascribe  
't the Worthies of most sacred Levies Tribe,  
And the learned servants of the triple Trine,  
Whose verses make mortality divine:  
Your genius high Illuminations are  
Transcending mine, as Titan doth a star;  
Yet your refulgence doth not blind me so,  
But that my silly glow-worms light doth glow.  
I scribble, and I walk, I walk and scribble,  
I give and take Jests, Bull, and clinch, and quibble.  
Amongst good Poets I have played at Crambo,  
And I have found men's words and deeds not Ambo.  
The last year (sixteen hundred forty nine)  
I went to Cornwall, and some foes of mine  
Did certify a lie, maliciously,  
That I was subtle, and a dangerous spy;  
And did with travel, and a feigned pretence  
With th' Enemy have some Intelligence.  
For which three days in prison I was closed,  
With sleep reposed, and my mind composed:  
I knew my conscience clear, and well disposed,  
By Truths my accusations were opposed,  
And I (not found the man I was supposed)  
Without a Fee or Fine, on me imposed,  
And unto misery and want exposed  
(Not guilty found) from Prison I was loosed.  
But if I had a thought, or bad intent  
When I from London, into Cornwall went,  
Against the Army, State, or Parliament,  
Let torments both my soul and corpse torment.  
No man can blame me much that I have grumbled,  
That I, for no cause was thus to tosed and tumbled;  
And that I never could my Accuser see,  
My Books and Bills took, and detained from me:  
The Books declared my journey too and fro,  
The Bills, were names of men, and where to go  
To find the men, to pay me for my pain,  
My loss of those, made all my labour vain;  
And for that loss, I once more try my friends,  
Hope tells me, Time will make me some amends.  
False fortune's frowns, makes me not fear or shrink,  
And evil fall on him that ill doth think.   

My Muse shall now sing, though she be no Singer,  
For (Reader with thee) I'll no longer linger:  
My brain enthusiastic holds it meet  
To make the feet of Verse, tell how my feet  
Did travel galling gravel, and surbated,  
Sometimes by day, sometimes by night belated.  
To write my acts myself, as 'tis most fit,  
Caesar himself his Commentaries writ:  
And solid Johnson made his Muse his Cock  
To crow his savoury Voyage up Fleet Dock:  
So I do hold it worthy imitation,  
To follow them, and write mine own Relation.  
The fourteenth day of August, London, London  
I left, O what hath many a mother's 
* This kind of Verse or rhyme, is hard to make, and when they are made they are not worth any thing, especially when they are in the hands of an ignorant Reader.  son done?  
What hath the mad and furious sword and gun don?  
But killed some, made some rich, and some are undone.  
That I may say of London, what a Town ist,  
There lives the Seeker, Dipper, and the Brownist:  
There's room for Ranters, and alas how apt is't  
To harbour the ungoverned Annabaptist?  
Th''ve played thy Game home, like a cunning Gamester,  
Thou more Religions hast, than hath damned Amster.  
I down the Thames the day aforesaid went,  
(On one side Essex, on the other Kent)  
Until at last, to Gravesend I was borne,  
And lodged in Milton, at the plenteous horn.  
That horn, was Cornucopia unto me  
Two days' meat, drink, and lodging, 
* I thank a B●ker. I thank John Brafferson the Master of a Tilt-boat there for my four days' entertainment.  quarter free.  
From thence unto a private house I went,  
And there (with small charge, and much discontent)  
Four days I stayed, and every tide did watch  
To have some Ship, or hoy, Boat, bark, or catch,  
To carry me to Norfolk or some place  
Where I might foot it, and jog on my Race.  
In all this time I never wanted drink,  
And for their drink, I give 'em thanks in ink:  
No otherways my thanks I can express,  
But verbally, and with the Pen and press.   

The twentieth day of August, Kent and I  
Took leave, and to the Fort of Tilberry  
I passed, and ere I there an hour had been,  
A lucky ship of Ipswitch took me in.  
She quickly spread abroad her canvas wings,  
The whistling wind in shrouds and taklin sings:  
That next day following, near the hour eleven  
We came t'an Anchor safe in Harwich Haven:  
My thanks unto the Master I must utter,  
He's owner of the ship, his sirname's Butter:  
His ship and self both named the Jonathan,  
And I have seldom found a kinder man.  
My fare was as he fared, and well he fared,  
And (in his cabin) I my lodging shared;  
For which he would not take one mite of me,  
Thus was my Passage, Meat, and Lodging free  
For which I would requite him, if I could,  
And till I can, let him take what I would.   

From Harwich Harbour, with the wind and tide,  
In a small Boat, we up to Ipswitch slide:  
At the White Horse, I there was entertained  
So well (for nothing) that they nothing gained.  
For which among my worthy friends I rank them,  
Kind Master Atkins, and his Wife, I thank them.   
Ipswich, is the chief town of the County of Suffolk, it hath twelve Parish Churches in it: There hath been more in former times, it may be called a City for the large bounds and extent of it: It is from the North to the South a large mile in breadth, and from East to West it is two miles in length: our famous infortunate Cardinal, Thomas Wolsie was borne there, where he had caused to be laid the foundation of a Magnificent stately college, the ruins whereof are now scarce to be found; but in memory of his birth and birth place, there he built a large and strong Shambles (for Butchers to sell, and others to buy flesh) the like of it is not in England; the town hath been walled strongly, but spoiled and demolished by the Danes nor was (nor is like to be) never repaired; it is governed by two bailiffs, and ten Portmen, who do wear Scarlet gowns when occasion is, their Common counsel (being many) are very substantial men, read more in Mr. Cambden or Mr. Speed.  

August the two and twentieth, thence went I  
Eight miles to Stanhum, and lodged at the pie.  
The next day, was an extreme rainy Friday,  
Wet (through my clothes) unto my skin, or hide, a  
Tedious and weary journey twenty miles,  
Bedabbled, dirty, clambering many styles,  
I came at night unto a Town called Newton,  
And there I had a dry house, and wet suit on.  
On Saturday (the day called Bartholomew)  
I rose, and trampled through the mire and dew;  
My tired feet the rotten highway beat on  
Unto a Village, or a Bridge called Eton:  
There at the lion, (red as any stammel)  
Is harbour good, for man, or Horse, or camel:  
There dwells my cousin will Hart, and's good wife Bridgid  
By them two nights, I was well fed and lidged.  
I stayed with them the Saturday and Sunday,  
And he with me to Norwich went on Monday:  
There did my Cousin Hart, prove more kind hearted,  
And there we merry were, s●ooke hands and parted.  
One Master Edward Martin there doth dwell,  
Who both divine books, and profane, doth sell:  
We (till that time) ne'er saw each others face,  
Yet there he freely kept me three days' space;  
From Monday until Thursday morning there  
He thought no cost too heavy, or too dear:  
He brought me out of Town: a mile at least,  
And there I freed him from a troublous Guest.   
Norwich, is a famous ancient City, built many years before the Norman Conquest; it had a strong Castle in it double ditched, out of the ruins or corruption of the Castle, a jail (or goal) was engendered, to which use it is now put: It was spoiled by Hugh Bigot Earl of Norfolk, in the reign of K, Henry the second, and a greater mischief befell the City in King Henry the thirds time, for the Citizens (in a tumultuous fury) spoiled it with fire, and withal burned the goodly Priory Church, which afterwards they were caused to rebuild in a fairer manner. Lastly, Norwich was won and fired by Ket and his Army of Rebels, since when it hath been well repaired, and in a flourishing condition; the walls of the City are of more circuit or bounds then the walls of London: But it is to be considered, there are Pasture Grounds, Gardens, and waste Lands (not built upon) more than half the ground within the walls; it hath 12. gates to issue in and out 12. several ways, whereby it may be conceived that it is large in circuit, (for London hath not foe many) there are 30. fair Parish Churches, there were five more, but they are ruined before these present troubles; the goodly cathedral is much defaced in these late times of Reformation. It was governed by 2 bailiffs, till King Edward the fourth empowered them to choose a Mayor, and gave privileges to them, and Charters of honourable and memorable regard: The Low Dutch (or netherlands Nation) being frighted from their Country by the cruelty of the Duke D' Alva, who was lieutenant governor there under the King of Spain, (who for his Tyranny the people called Duke Diabota) they fled in multitudes into England, and thousands of them came to Norwich, where they have so thrived, and withal much enriched the City, that it is thought there are 10000 Weavers, Spinners, and other Artificers, daily employed for the making of sundry sorts of says, with other Stuffs innumerable, either for wearing or ornaments; to adorn houses with Hangings, Carpets, or curtains, of innumerable sorts, colours, varieties, and more hard names then any Apothecary hath upon his Boxes or Gallypots, and so much for Norwich, with my further thanks to Mr. Edward Martin, with Mr. Richard Thacker, Mr. Vowte, Cum multis aliis, Omnium Gathrum, All ta Mall.  
The County of Norfolk hath in some parts found a strange alteration, since the last year, 1649. in the price of Hay, for it is fallen from 4s. 4d. the hundred weight, to one groat the hundred; this I thought worthy of relating to show the fertility of the soil, by the almighty's blessings.  

August the nine and twentieth I went forth  
From Norwich City ten miles further North,  
To Worsted, well Wet, with a heavenly shower,  
Mine hostess entertained me, to her power;  
Although the weather frowned, she did not lower,  
Her looks were sweet, but yet her Ale was sour.  
My lodging good, my reckoning was not dear,  
For ten pence, Supper, Bed, and Breakfast there.  
I arose as soon as day began to show,  
And (two miles thence) did unto Honing go;  
There, to the Minister I welcome was,  
And merrily one day and night did pass:  
And there we made a shift that Friday night  
To eat a well fed, fat tithe Pig outright.  
Next day I Honing left, and did begin  
To cross the North of Norfolk, towards Lyn:  
That day I chanced a gallant house to find  
A Master bountiful, and servants kind:  
I need not tell my Reader where, or who,  
The name of Oxnet, all doth plainly show.   
Sir William Paston: there I found and spoke with the Apelles of our Age, Mr. Edward Peirce Painter, and Mr. John Stone was there, whose rare Arts are most exquisitely manifested both in painting, limming, and cunning carved Statues in stone.  

That Saturday I went t'a town called Reepham,  
And as amongst great sinners, I the chief am:  
I grieve to see the Churches there demolished,  
Sects plenty, and true Piety abolished.   
This Town of Repham (or Reepham) hath three fair Churches, were standing in one churchyard, it is said they were built by three Sisters; one of them hath been long decayed and fallen to the ground, only the Tower stands fair and strong; the other two Churches do serve four Parishes, and I could hear no more but three bells on Sunday there: So that the reckoning is one churchyard, three bells, two Chreches, three Steeples, four Parishes, and one broken Church for Lumber.  
The second of September (being Monday) I left Reepham, and traveled 18. miles to a Village called Gayton; but by the way (at a place called Brissley) I was told of a Holy Sister, who by falling back, had risen forward, to the increase of the faithful: she being reproved falling and rising, said it was pure zeal that pricked her on, and that it was done with a Brother, he and she, and every one being bound to do for, and with one another, and I hearing of her kindness bestowed this short Epigram on her.  

Hath Lust defiled her pureness, never matched?  
No 'twas deceit, she hath been cunny-catched:  
It was a rule, she learned of her Mother,  
That 'twas no sin to couple with a Brother.   
But to return again where I left: at Gayton there are 2 plain alehouses, and one Wine alehouse; these houses were distant one from the other a furlong, or two flight shoot: at the first house (where the Wine was) there were fellows swaggering, and ready to draw their fists, there I would not lodge; at the second I would have lodged, but could not, their beds were all taken up; at the third the doors were locked & the windows shut, nobody at home, the folks not come home from Harvest work; forward I knew not whether, and backward I would not go, and to stand still there was cold comfort for an old weary Traveller, there being no harbour, but a wild Common, nor any company to pass the time withal but 3 or 4 flocks of Geese; in this extremity I espied an old-old, very old, neat handed little ancient man, to him I went, and told him that I would have lodged at that house, but it was shut up; quoth he the folks will come home by and by, but I do not know whether they have any lodging or no, and sure me think you be a clean man, and 'tis pity you should lie on the Common, if you will go home and lie with me, I am an old widower, and one bed shall hold us both.  
I thankfully embraced his courteous offer, and went with him, where I supped and loged well, and would take nothing of me; his name is Samson Warrington, in remembrance of whose kindness I have written this thankful expession.  
I was told there of a precise holy man in those parts, who sent his man unto a Pasture ground to see his horse, the fellow went, and brought word to his Master that his horse was Dead, dead quoth he, how dar'st thou tell me my horse is dead? the fellow answered, I pray you be not angry, sure I am that if he be not dead, that he is either deceased, or changed his life; well said the Master, if my horse be departed, I have lost a good one, for he was so sure of his feet, that I would have put my life into his hands.  
Tuesday September 3. I went 4 miles to a Village called North-Wooton, 3 miles from Linn, there I was much beholding to my Kinsman Mr. John Clark, he gave me large and free welcome, for which to him with his good Wife, my gratitude is manifested; also my thanks to Mr. Swift.  
Wednesday I went to Linn, where a good old jovial Lad named John Scarborow entertained me sumptuously (for my cousin John Clark's sake) and also he was somewhat the kinder to me, because he had often heard of me, besides of his own dispo●ition is free from discourtesy to strangers, I thank him for my fresh fish, my Duck, or Mallard, my lodging, Ale, and Oysters, with the appurtenances. &c.  
Linn was much honoured by King John for their Loyalty, for which that King gave them his own word, and a fair gilt bowl, which they keep as honourable memorials to this day: it is a fair large strong Sea town, it is now a garrison, the River hat the Sea doth flow thereinto, disperseth itself into many Branches, for the commodious enriching of divers Shires, Counties, towns, and Places, as Rutlandshire, Huntingdonshire, Cambridge, and Cambridgeshire, the Isle of Ely, &c. those Rivers do carry and recarry all manner of goods and Merchandise, so that Linn with all those countries are furnished with more sea-coals than do come up the River of Thames, wood being so scarce that the Rich might blow their nails, and the poor would be starved in the Winter for want of fitting in all those Counties, if the Rivers were not.  
... Thursday the 5. of September I left Linn, and took an open passage Boat, being bedewed all day and night, and almost all the Friday with rain without ceasing, so that, on Friday I came to Cambridge sufficiently pickled: there I took up my lodging at the sign of the Rose (one of the best inns) where I thank Mr. Brian and his Wife (my old acquaintance) I had good cheer and lodging gratis and welcome; I took notice of the colleges, they stand as fair and stately as ever, and (for any thing that I know) there may be as much learning as ever was, but I saw but few scholars or gown men.  
On Saturday the 7. of September, I was determined to see Sturbridge fair, but by fortune I espied an empty Cart returning towards London 17 miles to a town called Baldock; by which means I left Cambridge without taking my leave of Mr. Brian, for which I crave his and his Wive's pardon.  
That day I was uncarted at Baldock, and footed it 7 miles more to Steevenedge, there (at the falcon) I stayed Saturday and Sunday, and on Monday I traveled to Hatfield, and to Barnet 17 miles, where I was discreetly wet and dirty, and took up my lodging at the Bell with a silent Clapper. The next day (being Tuesday) I came home to my house wet and weary in Phoenix Alley, at the sign of the crown, near the Globe tavern, about the middle of Long-Acre or Covent Garden.  

Thus having touched no State, or State affairs,  
Or mentioned men that sit in honour's chairs:  
I dare declare him of a base condition,  
That of my Lines or Travels hath suspicion.  
I formerly have falsely been accused,  
And therefore now I hope to be excused.  
This time I traveled (for my life's preserving)  
To get some money, to prevent a starving:  
And every one that for my book doth pay me,  
Doth love me, lodge me, feed me, and array me.  
With feet and pen, my walk and work is done,  
And (Caesar like) the Conquest I have won:  
And though I never shall have Caesar's Fame,  
Tet I did see, I came, and overcame.   
FINIS.