The Honour of the Cloathworking Trade: OR, THE Pleasant and Famous History OF Thomas of Reading: And other Worthy CLOTHIERS of the West and North of England.  
Setting forth their Merriments, Great Riches, Hospitality to the Poor, the Favour they gained with their Prince, and the Privileges granted them. With the Unfortunate Loves of the Earl of Salisbury's fair Daughter, and the Renowned Duke of Normandy. The woeful Death of Thomas of Reading, murdered by his Host; and other Matters. Also pleasant SONGS.  
Humbly Dedicated to the Worshipful Company of Cloathworkers.   woodcut of three horsemen and merchants with carts 
Printed for J. Deacon, at the Angel in Gilt-spur-street, without Newgate.   

The Honour of the Cloathworking Trade: OR, THE Pleasant History of Thomas of Reading, etc.  

CHAP. I How in the Reign of King Henry the First, Thomas of Reading, and many other honest wealthy Clothiers flourished in the West and North. How in their way to London, the King met their great number of Wains that stopped him; and upon the Speech of a Wain-driver, made a Law against treading down and spoiling the Corn. How Thomas of Reading made a Request to him, and his Answer, etc.  
WHen William Rufus who succeeded William the Conqueror in the English Throne, was killed as he hunted in New Forest, by an Arrow shot by Tyril, one of his Courtiers, which aimed at a Deer, and glancing on a Tree, gave the King his mortal Wound in the Side; his Brother Henry, surnamed from his great Learning and Wisdom Beau Clark, or fine Scholar, winding himself by great Gifts and Promises into the Affections of the English and Norman Nobility, got himself crowned King, whilst his eldest Brother Robert, to whom the Conqueror had left the Dukedom of Normandy, was warring against the Turks and Saracens in the Holy Land, and by his Valour won Jerusalem, of which City and the whole Country of Palestine the Christian Princes would have crowned him King; but he refused it, and returning home to lay claim to England, a miserable Fate or Misfortune befell him, as will appear in this History in due place.  
This Henry, called King Henry the First, the better to support himself in the Throne, made many good Laws, confirmed the great Charter of the Nation, and did such things as made Trade increase, and his Subjects flourish. He instituted the High Court of Parliament, which has ever since continued, to the great good of the Commonwealth. In his Reign the Clothing Trade very much increased, and our Merchants brought home great Wealth for English Cloth, it being highly valued and prized in all Countries; so that the younger Sons of Knights and Gentlemen to whom their Fathers could leave no Lands, were preferred to be Cloathiers, and in Riches often exceeded their elder Brothers: And among the Eminentest for Wealth and Good Breeding, of this Calling, were in those Days Thomas Cole, commonly called Thomas of Reading, as there born, and keeping his Cloth Manufacture, it being a very fair Town in Berkshire; Grey of Gloucester, Sutton of Salisbury, Fitzallen of Worcester commonly called William of Worcester, Thomas Dove of Exeter in Devonshire, Simon of Southam; of whose Industry and Riches, and the great Number of poor People they employed daily, King Henry hearing, styled them The Six Worthy Yeomen of the West, and that Epithet they carried to their Graves.  
Besides these there were others in the North who drove the same Trade, and did a great deal of good in the Land, viz Cuthbert of Kendale, Hodgkins of Hallyfax, and Martin Bryer of Manchester, each of these kept at least Two hundred Servants at work, viz. Weavers, Fuller's, Dyers, Carders, Spinners, Sheermen, Wool-pickers, Rowers, etc. killing each in his House two fat Oxen, beside a great many Sheep, Swine, and the like, for the well feeding their Families; so that in House-keeping they outdid the best Gentlemen in the Counties where they lived; and these, to hold the better Correspondency and settle the Prices of the Cloth, made an Agreement, under a Penalty of forfeiting 20 Pounds, to meet every Whitsuntide at London, and had their Warehouse at Gerard's-Hall, which was then an Inn, and so named from a huge monstrous Fellow that kept it, Nine Foot high, with Hands like Shoulders of Mutton.  
As they were on their way, their Wains laden with Cloth passed before them, and made a Train like a huge Caravan, or the Baggage of a marching Army, still increasing as the first called the next in the way, and so to the last, which was Thomas of Reading, who having highly feasted them, set out with the rest, his Wains going foremost, and being most in number; when so it happened, that the King, with the Prince his Son, and divers of his Nobility, were taking a Progress into Wales, to quiet the Welsh, who upon hearing that Robert Duke of Normandy was arming to invade England, began to rise in tumults, and making Inroads, did much Mischief to the English on the Borders. He no sooner perceived this great Train of Wains that reached over Hills and Valleys many Miles, but he began to wonder what it should mean, thinking that some great Army was behind, and these as the Vanguard were laden with Provision and Ammunition. Some of the timorous Nobles persuaded him not to advance, for fear of an Ambushment they supposed these were sent before to train him into, and so to surprise and make his Royal Person a Prisoner; but he being of an undaunted Courage, resolved to pass on, and meeting the foresmost at the coming out of a narrow Lane, than some Miles long, (for since the ways have been altered,) he demanded what they were, and who they belonged to? The Drivers answered, To Cole of Reading, and that they were Laden to London with Woollen Cloth, all his own Manufacture, and so they answered, till Fifty were passed; then others came on, and every one as they passed declared who they belonged to, which made the King wonder England should abound with such Wealthy People, which he little thought before it had done; yet vexed to be delayed, for the Lane being very narrow, he was forced to stay two or thee hours before they all passed by, when one of the Drivers, not knowing him to be the King, perceiving him to frown, said bluntly, Good Fellow, what, art thou in haste? Pray stay, and let your Betters be served before you; you are, I suppose, some Country 'Squire going a Hunting, to spoil poor People's Corn, and a fine pass they are brought to; I hope, e'er long, the King's Grace will be informed of it, and Punish such Knaves as trample down the Bread the Poor should eat; and so passed by, without staying for a Reply. But these Words thrown out by the Country Fellow, did afterwards a great deal of good to the Nation; for the King, upon his Return, made a Law to limit the times of Hunting and Hawking, under great Penalties, and that such Exercises should be forborn, till the Corn was off the Ground, that it might not be spoiled or wasted, for the pleasure of any, were he never so Rich or Noble; and this in a good measure has held ever since; for before, the Noblemen and Gentlemen, not regarding the meaner sort, trampled down their Fields at pleasure, and procured them to be punisheed as Mutineers, when they fought Redress.   woodcut of single horseman  woodcut of two horsemen 
The Wains being all passed, and the way clear, the King rid on with his slender Train, and at the other end of the Lane met the jolly Clothiers; Thomas of Reading knew him, as serving the Court with Cloth, and informed the rest it was the King; whereupon instantly alighting, they tied their Horses to a Hawthorn-bush, and kneeling, threw up their Caps, crying, God save His Majesty. Upon this, he demanded, Who they were? To which Thomas of Reading answered, in the Name of the rest, they were Clothiers, and his Loyal Subjects, who would stand by him with their Lives and Fortunes against all his Enemies. The King hereupon bid them rise, and demanded what they would ask of him? Upon this, Thomas grew bolder, and said, they had many Grievances to offer in behalf of themselves and their fellow-Subjects, whom the Proud and Covetous Nobility oppressed and kept under, to the great hindrance of the flourishing of Trade, and of the Kingdom in general, but more particularly to His Majesty's Coffers, which, if those Lets were removed, would be stored with Gold and Silver. To this the King replied, He hearty thanked them for their minding him of it; but being now upon a hasty Expedition, he must refer it to his Return from Wales; and so Commanding them to draw up their Grievances, and present them to him at London, he admitted them to kiss his Hand, and so dismissing them at this time, pursued his journey, saying to a Nobleman that road near him, I see now plainly a Prince may hear and know more out of his Palace, than ever he is able to do in it; for there my Flatterers blind me from seeing into Affairs, by laying false Perspectives before me, that they may gain their own Ends and Advantages on my well-meaning Subjects; but I perceive amongst plain, downright Men Truth is much sooner to be found: And this Evil I will remedy as soon as I may, and stand in the Defence of them and this Country against all Opposers, whilst I am able to wield my Sword, or to the last drop of my Blood. And so keeping his way, the Clothiers made theirs, with pleasant Songs, and merry Cheer, to London.   

CHAP. II. How the Clothiers of the West and North met at Bosom's Inn at London: Of the Entertainment they met withal, and the Frolicks they had. How Cuthbert fell in Love with his Hostess, and being taken napping by Old Bosom, was forced to pay an Hundred Pounds to save his Testicles; with the intrigue of their Wooing, and by what Stratagem he was catched by the Husband.  
Whilst all People were concerned at the Alarm the War threatened from Normandy by the Duke, had given this Land, our jolly Clothiers keeping up their Courage, as being both Wise and Valiant, were resolved not to abate of their wont Mirth; and having seen their Cloth unladed, and lately stowed, they went to their usual Inn, called to this day Bosom's Inn, from a greasy old slovenly Fellow, that first built it, and then lived in it, who always went nudging with his Head in his Bosom, in thick furred Garments, Winter and Summer, so that many in derision called him the Emblem or Picture of Old Winter, with Icicles at his Beard. This Old greasy Bearward had a Liquorish Tooth, he had got a fine handsome Young Wife, who had married him for what he had, but for his Person, cared not if he was hanged out of the way, that she might get a Young Husband, to please her to her heart's content.   woodcut of three men in an inn 
Dinner ended, Tom Dove, who was ever the merriest in the Company, proposed to sing a Song, which was agreed to, and thus he began.  

(1.)  
When Winter in his Icy Arms  
The Earth with Cold does bind,  
She droops, and cannot show her Charms:  
But when the Sun, more kind,  
Assists her with his warmer heat,  
O then she sighs no more,  
But from the cold Embrace does start,  
To him she does adore.   

(2.)  
The Rosy blush with Lily mix,  
And paleness put to flight;  
O there she could for ever fix,  
For ever take delight.  
Grey Heads Young Beauties so oppress,  
And make them sigh for change,  
Excuse them then, if they transgress,  
They have good cause to range.   
Oh Pox, cries Old Bosom, I smell a Rat, this is a Banter upon me, because I have married a Young Wife, but I'll warrant you I'll watch her Waters so narrowly, that I'll keep her from ever a Rabit-sucker, or Coney-catcher of you all. Cuthbert perceiving the Old Blade to be nettled, winked at the rest, and immediately changed the Discourse to News, saying, He had heard that Earl Morgan was fled out of the Land, to avoid the King's Displeasure, upon his being discovered to side with the Duke of Normandy. As for him, says Grey, it's no matter, he was a Covetous Wretch, he used to beg Lordships and Manors of the King, and either dispossess the Tenants quite, or hold them to Rack-Rents, it's well we are rid of him: But my Heart bleeds for the Generous and Courteous Earl of Shrewsbury, whom, upon like Suspicion, the King has banished, seized on all he has, turned his poor Lady and Daughter out a begging, who now wander about in a miserable Condition, I wish I knew where and how to Relieve them.  
Whilst this Discourse lasted, Drinking, and the noise of Fiddlers that played without, had lulled Old Bosom asleep, who hanging his Head down, snored like a Hog in a Sty. Cuthbert took this Opportunity to step into the Kitchen, and make Love to his fine Hostess, admiring she would Marry such a greasy, Butcherly Beast, than gave her a Kiss, and clapped an Angel into her hand, to buy her a pair of Gloves, pouring out his Amorous Passion, and the desire he had to please her by Night or Day. At first she seemed shy, as if she understood not his meaning, but at last told him, since she had been so unhappy to Marry one she could not love, if he could handsomely contrive the matter, she would grant his Suit. Then he told her, that Tom Dove blurting out an unlucky Song, had almost made Old Bosom jealous, and therefore, to take away all suspicion for the future, she must give him leave in her Husband's presence, without taking Offence at it, to rally her, and she show an inveterate hatred, and utter dislike of him, the better to blind the Old jealous Coxcomb, that he should not suspect their Love, and they acted it as occasion offered so to the Life, that it succeeded for a time to their wish; for she often threatened to scald him out of the Kitchen, or run him through with the Spit, when he called her Draggle-tail, and dirty Sow, wondering that such an honest, grave Man, as her Husband, could find in his heart to love such a dowdy Puss; so that her seeming Anger made the Old Man chide her often, for abusing one of his best Guests, saying, At this rate such a Gossip as she would scare all his Customers from his House, and then they might both go hang themselves. However, he had a little Suspicion of Tom Dove, who, to humour the matter, would be Frolicsome, and jest with her, and she would do the like with him. At Night the London Merchants came to pay a Visit to the Clothiers, bringing Wine and Delicacies with them, such as the Inn afforded not; the Glasses went round, and they were exceeding merry. But in the height of the jollity, Cuthbert being intent on the Love of his fair Hostess, left them to see if he could speak with her in private, and appoint an Assignation to consummate their Desires. It was now Twilight, and he perceived her walking at the lower end of the Yard, so he slily made up to her, and catching her about the Neck, gave her many Amorous Kisses; she seeing who it was, hastily retired into a little Shed or Hovel, leading him by the hand; and being entered, shutting fast the Door, gave him a Kiss, saying, Now take your Opportunity, I yield to your Embraces, and tho' the Place be something Incommodious, poor Lovers must make a hard shift to reap the Fruits of their Desires.  
Cuthbert, who was a Man of Mettle, only replied with Kisses, and immediately fell on board her; but as Ill Luck would have it, the House of Office standing in a corner of this Place, when they were in the height of their Amorous Delight, Old Bosom, having stuffed his Guts like a Cloak bag, came wallowing to empty his Load, and wondering to find the Door shut, being in haste, raped and called out, Who, in the Devil's Name, is here? Open the Door quickly, or I shall discharge in my Breeches. The Lovers knowing his hated Voice, were much startled and surprised; but there being no Remedy, Cuthbert fiercely replied It is I, what would you have? None shall come in here till I have done my Business. There are two holes, says Bosom, and one I think may serve your turn. There are so, says Cuthbert, but as it now strangely falls out, one is grievously beshit, and I am in the other, therefore shift somewhere else. This satisfied him, and immediately he hasled to the Dunghill, and turning up his beastly Butt-end, discharged at least half a Peck. As he was retreating from thence, at some distance he fancied, by the imperfect Light, he espied a Woman step out of the Hovel, and slip in at the back door of the House contrary to where he was. This, though he could not charge it certain, with the denial of Entrance gave him Suspicion there had been Foul Play; however, he seemed to take no notice, till he might be better assured: And so stepping out, he got a Letter to be writ, and carried to his Wife by a Porter, who was instructed to tell her, that he brought it from Westminster. When she read it, she rejoiced, for it imported, that her Husband's Rich Brother lay a Dying, and had sent for him to watch with him that Night; and in his absence she doubted not but to have her fill of Pleasure with Cuthbert, though before she had been disturbed in the midst of it.  
She soon told Cuthbert of this, who was overjoyed that she had swallowed it so easily. He no sooner read the Letter, but called for his Horse and Aquavitae Bottle, giving her a Kiss as in Kindness, bidding her be careful of the House, for he was certain he should stay all Night, and so they parted. Then he carried his Horse to another Inn, having before set a Spy upon his Wife, viz. the Chamberlain, who would fain have had a lick at her Honey-pot; but she disdaining him, his Love turned to Envy and Hatred, resolving none should enjoy, if he could help it, that which himself was denied: He sat up, watching his Master's Return, which he failed not to do when he supposed his Guest and Wife were in bed; and being let in by him, who assured him there was a Man in her Chamber, he, enraged with jealousy, blundered up stairs; his Wife first heard him, knowing his tread, and ordered Cuthbert immediately to rise, and get up the Chimney, and stride a cross the Bar, till she found an Opportunity to further his escape to his own Chamber: this he did in such haste, that he left his , but she conveyed them between the Bed and the Mat: By this time Bosom entered the Chamber, saying, My Dear, I am come sooner than I thought, for my Brother was only in a Fit, and recovered before I came there. Then peeping under the Bed, as for the Chamber-Pot, he espied a Sack-Posset, but took no notice of it, seeing no body there. Then, made excuses to look in other Places, and at last, peeping slightly up the Chimney, saw Cuthbert's naked Feet dangling down. The Good Woman fearing a Discovery, urged him to come to Bed: But he told her, his Horse had stumbled, and thrown him in a wet Plash, and he must have a Fire to dry him before he would do it. Immediately calling for Faggots, a Fire was kindled, which as it burned up, smothered and almost roasted Cuthbert, though by the help of his Breath and Pissing he endeavoured to hinder its Smoke and Heat, so that for fear of being marryred, he cried out lamentably. Bosom upon this, peeping up, cried out, Thieves, Thiefs; whereupon his Servants came running up, dragged him down, buffeted him severely▪ and by Bosom's Order bound him to the Bed post. The Good Woman seeing him draw his Knife, leapt out of Bed, fell on her Knees, and implored Mercy for him, for it was Mr. Cuthbert the Clothier. O then, replied he, I know his Business here, and your Cavils were to blind me; however, I'll be merciful, I'll spare his Life, but out go his Stones, I'll teach him to Caterwawl with my Wife. And he had certainly done it, had not Cuthbert given a Bond of 100 l. to release him. His Wife he confined to her Chamber for a Month with Bread and Water, to tool her Lechery, as he said. And this was not done so secretly, but by the means of some of the Servants, the other Clothiers came to know of it, which made them laugh hearty, and Cuthbert was jeered ever after, for looking Swallows Nests at such a time of Night in the Chimney, and running the hazard of finding his Tail: But he put it off as well as he could.   

CHAP. III. How the Clothiers made their Address to the King to Redress Grievances, and had their Desires granted. Of the Merriment they had in their way home. How their Wives hearing what a brave Town London was, would needs see it: How they were Entertained by the Merchant's Wives, and at their Return home longed for fine , etc.  
THE jolly Clothiers having sold their Cloth to a good Advantage, and received much Money, hearing the King had quieted the Welshmen, and was returned to his Palace, remembering what he had said to them, and their Promise to attend him, resolved to be as good as their Words, expecting Advantage thereby from his Grace and Favour, not only for themselves, but for the People in general. And having drawn up what they thought fit, they spruced up themselves, and went to cast themselves at his Feet, as hearing in a little time he was to go over the Sea with a great Army against Lewis the French King, and his Brother Robert, thereby to find them Work at home, and prevent their Landing in England, and leave the Bishop of Salisbury Regent at home, they concluded to take the first Opportunity, and were soon admitted to the Presence.   woodcut of king on throne with eight nobles 
The King knowing they were come, placed himself in his Royal Robes, with his Nobles about him, making a Glorious Show, and Commanding them, without fear or favour of any, from the greatest to the least, boldly and freely to speak what they had to say. Thomas of Reading, who was appointed to speak for them, having made his Majesty a Present of each Man a Hundred Pounds, which amounted to Nine Hundred in all, praying him to accept of it from his Dutiful Subjects, to enable him to def●nd the Realm, and carry on the War, looking on his Paper, said, We Humbly beseech Your Majesty, that there may be a settled Measure for Cloth throughout the Land, to prevent Differences and Difficulties arising in several Cl●ath-working Towns, by reason of the uncertainty of Measuring. This shall be done, said the King; and thereupon caused his own Arm to be measured, saying, This shall be the Standard-measure, and so I establish it, disannulling all other, as unlawful; and from that time it has been called, the Cloth Yard. Then, because there was a great deal of cracked Money in the Nation, which many refused, and therefore it hindered the Circle of Trade, he desired, in the Name of his Brethren, that the King would be pleased to issue out his Royal Proclamation, that it might pass in Payments without control. Nay, honest Clothiers, replied the King, I will do better than that; I will Command by my Proclamation none but cracked Money shall go, and then those that have whole Money, will be obliged to tract it, and then there will appear no difference.  
The next Demand was, That such as were taken stealing their Cloth, when it was on the Tenters in the Fields, might be hanged; for though they were at a vast Charge in watching of it, yet little fear of the Punishment, which was but a Whipping matter, made Thiefs bold, and in great Companies set upon those that watched it, and take it by force. To this the King promised he would procure such a Law to be made, as soon as the Parliament sitting had dispatched the weighty Affairs of the Nation, and accordingly it was made; but then Hanging was so strange a Death in England, that when they took Malefactors, and brought them to the Place of Execution, they could not get a Hangman for Money or Entreaty, no, nor by threats of Punishment, upon Refusal; so that they were forced to let them go, unless they would have hanged them themselves, which they often did, for fear of incurring the hatred of the People, by being too cruel to their Fellow-Creatures. But Hodgkins losing much, and being impatient at their Impunity, contrived with a Monk to frame an Engine at Hallifax to cut off their Heads without the help of a Man; for their Heads were no sooner in, but a Spring running, upon their touching it, a sharp Iron bore forcibly down, and whipped them off, and this awed Offenders. But to return: The King, at their Request, forbidden Commons to be enclosed by Rich Men, leaving them to the Poor; called Oppressors to Account, and punished many of them by Fine and Imprisonment: And then ordered the two Princes his Sons, viz. William and Robert, to treat the Clothiers sumptuously in his Palace, saying, He should from that time esteem them amongst the best of his Subjects; and so they were highly feasted with Wine, Venison, and other Delicacies. But Simon of Southampton, being a great admirer of Broth, preferred it before all, which made one of the Princes jestingly say, Sup, Simon, it's very good Broth; and from thence came the Proverb.  
When they had been well Entertained, to their hearts content, they took their Leave, and road to the Town, that is now called Colebrook, from the Murder of Cole, as shall be hereafter related. As for their Wains, they were gone before. And here at an Inn they usually made Merry in their coming and returning from London: Nor wanted they the Company of the men's Wives of the Town to bear them Company, and be Merry with them, who were so extremely taken with Tom Dove's Merry Pranks, that no sooner they heard he was come, but they would give their Husbands the slip, and run to him like Chickens to a Hen, and in praise of him made this Song, which was afterwards sung all over the Country.  

(1.)  
Welcome, Tom Dove, our only Love,  
The merriest Man alive,  
Thy Company we do approve,  
None shall us from it drive.   

(2.)  
Though Husbands fret, and pout and sweat,  
We care not for't a Pin,  
They nothing by the same shall get,  
For we'll play at In and In.   

(3.)  
Their Jealousy we do defy,  
And all their Anger scorn,  
If they our Freedom do deny,  
We'll graft on them the Horn.   
Having continued their Merriment here as long as they thought fit, the Women refusing to leave their Company, though their Husbands often sent for them, it was thought fit they should return home, and at Reading they parted. Every one arriving at his House, told their Wives how they had been Entertained, and what a fine Town London was, which set them so agog, that they would have no Nay, but sent Letters, as if they jumped all in a Mind, to meet at Cole's in Reading, take his Wife with them, and hey for London Town. To all their Husband's dissuasions they turned a deaf Ear, thinking a Days, and dreaming a Nights of their pleasant journey, and the Frolics they expected. So their Husbands finding it in vain, do what they could, to dissuade them from their headstrong Humour, gave way to it, and every one had a stately Palfrey, and their best Apparel, carrying Letters of Recommendation to Merchants, to receive, entertain, and show the Bravery of Court and City. And though the Husband's Business was urgent, that they could not accompany them, they had by Agreement every one a journeyman Weaver to ride before them; and so with full Purses to bear their Expenses, to Thomas of read's they came, who highly feasted them, and ordering his Wife to Accompany them, to London they road. The Merchants, upon their Arrival, Entertained them with all the Civility and Treatment imaginable, their Wives accompanied them to Court, and shown them what was rare to be seen; in the City, Shops full of Silks, Stuff, Plate, jewels, etc. which made them wonder any Place should be so Rich, they having never seen the like before.  
Whilst the Merchant's Wives thus welcomed the Mistresses, the London Weavers in Candlewick-street, then full of them, and Cheapside, did the like by the journeymen, plying them with Liquor lustily, and many Wagers were laid on both sides, who worked quickest and best, some of which the Countrymen lost, and some the Londoners. And so having seen all of Rarity that the Town could afford, the Merchant's Wives presented the Women with many fine Knacks, and the Merchants sent Tokens by them to their Husbands. The London Weavers presented the Country Weavers with Merry Songs, Pipes, and Ribbons. So that pleased on all hands, they returned wonderfully satisfied, and thought the Money in the journey well laid out. Yet herein an Inconveniency followed to the Clothiers, for their Wives having seen the Gallantry of the City Dames, fell into disdain of Sheep's Russet, and knowing their Husband's Ability, never left off leading them weary Lives, till they had  sent for from London, no Argument to the contrary signifying a Pin's Point; nor could any but London Tailors ever after that please them.   

CHAP. IU. How the Good Earl of Shrewsbury being banished, his Countess and ●air Daughter came to miserable Poverty, despised by their own Tenants. How Grey's Wife took the Lady Margaret into her Service. How the Duke of Normandy fell in Love, and attempting to Escape with her, had his Eyes put out. How she turned Nun, and was made Abbess: With other Matters.  
I Have already spoken something of the Banishment of the Good Earl of Shrewsbury, who in his Prosperity was a good Benefactor to the Poor though few in their Distress would assist his Countess, or Beautiful Margaret his only Daughter; some pretending they durst not, for f●●r of the Kings Displeasure, others despising them now fallen from a High Degree to a low Estate, as is usual with Ingrateful People in such Cases; and those whom they had done most for, most slighted them. So that the sorrowful Countess, worn out with Grief, and pined with Want, died in a Farmer's Outhouse, who had formerly been her Tenant, for she was not admitted into the Dwellinghouse. This great Affliction, in the loss of so dear and tender a Mother, drew Floods of Tears from her fair Daughter's Eyes: She fell upon the dead Body at the homely Grave it was put in, upbraiding Fortune's Fickleness, and accusing the cruel Destinies of too much Severity, desiring them to throw the Earth on her, and bury her with her dear tender Mother, to that they were constrained to take her away by force; then falling into a deadly sw●●● they conveyed her to the Farmer's House, and gave her comfortable things to revive her Spirits, but it ceased not her Lamentations. Whereupon the Farmer's Wife, who had so often been fed and relieved at the good Earl's Table, and under him had got all they had, said, Carry this puling Baggage out of my House, I wonder what a Murrain you brought her hither to trouble me for. ●ay, said the Farmer, Wife, let her stay here, for though I know she cannot do any hard Work, being brought up renderly, she may do us some Service, in keeping our Sheep.  
These Words cut the poor Lady to the Heart, and without saying any thing, she went out of the House, resolving to go to remote Parts of the Country, where none knew her, and trust in God's Mercy to help her in her Misery. Blouze, the Farmer's Wife, was glad of her Departure; for she being ugly herself, and the young Lady exc●eding beautiful, grew jealous of her Husband as soon as he spoke in her be half, and began to fling and tear like a Fiend of He●l. The young Lady having left these ungrateful People, put forth her Strength, and though weaker, traveled out of Shropshire into Gloucestershire, feeding on Berries, and drinking the Waters of clear Springs, till at length, weary and faint, she sat down upon a Stone by the way side, and fell afresh to lament her hard Fortune; when it chanced some young Maidens came by, and seeing her in that plight, compassionated her, ma●ing several Conjectures of the Cause; one saying, It must needs be Love that has brought her into this distress. Like enough, said another; for I myself was once almost at such a pass, but thank my Stars, I weathered it, and kicked it away with my Heel. Then they began to ask her several Questions, which she answered so courte●●●y and modestly, that they admired at it, proffering her Victuals and Drink, which they had in their Handkerchiefs and Bottles, for their Day's Subsistance, which pinching Hunger constrained her to accept; and being refreshed, her fading Colour returned, and looked in her homely Dress (for her rich Ornaments had long before been laid aside) like a little Angel: At length she demanded whither they were going? They told her, to Gloucester Fair, to be hired for Servants; and if she was out of Place, as by her Discontent she seemed to be, if she would go with them, she might get a good Service, and that if she behaved herself well in it, it might in time prefer her to some honest Country Fellow for her Husband. This made her smile, and then pausing a little, thinking it better to live a Servant than wander so forlorn up and down, and that in desert places her Beauty might betray her Modesty and Chastity to the Lust of some brutal Villain, she approved their Counsel, and away they went together.  
Now as she was standing in the Fair, Grey's Wife came to hire Servants, though she had many already, and wishfully beholding fair Margaret's modest Countenance and behaviour, came to her, and said, Maid, are you willing to be hired? She replied, Yes, good Dame, if you please, and I shall be willing to do any thing I am able or capable of. Well said, replied Dame Grey; then, Sweetheart, come along with me; if you are willing, I shall be as willing to instruct you where you are ignorant; you shall be well provided for, and I will give Statute Wages to boot.  
Both Parties agreed, she carried her home, and set her to carding Wool. Grey at Night came from Market, and hearing his Wife had hired a new Servant, sent for her to see her; her Beauty at first sight dazzled his Eyes, so that he cried out to his Wife, That she had, he thought, brought all the Fair home with her. Why so? says she. Why, replied he, I never saw one fairer in my Life! At this the good Woman was nettled, and began to grow jealous, intending in her Husband's Absence privately to send her away; but after, seeing her Diligence, modest Behaviour, and chaste Carriage, she concluded she could not be tempted to evil, and therefore altered her Resolution, preferring her above the rest of her Maids, and tendering her as dear as her own Children.  
Whilst she stayed here, the King had fought a great Battle in Normandy, with Duke Robert his Brother, taken him Prisoner, and seized his Country, and returning, brought him with him, committing him a Prisoner at large to Cardriff Castle: (for he had liberty with his Keepers to Hawk. Hunt, and follow other Princely Pastimes;) when one Day coming to Gloucester, Grey invited him and his Train to a splendid Entertainment, and afterward shown him his People at work; when among the Maids the Duke casting his Eyes on beautiful Margaret, stood in a maze to see so fair a Creature in such a place, and fell desperately in love with her, but concealed it at that time. Grey's Son was likewise extremely enamoured of her, and indeed every one that saw her fell in love with her; but in her low Condition remembering her high Birth, she gave no Countenance to any, till the Duke by Letter, and secret Messages, made his Love known to her, and after that, often they met in a neighbouring Forest, two or three Miles from the Town, and she received from him, with a solemn Promise of his honourable Love and entire Affection, a Diamond Ring, with many other Princely Presents; and the Desire she had to see her Father, inclined her the sooner to consent, for she heard he was in France, and the Duke proposed to slip from his Guard in the next Hunting, and meet her in that Forest, and convey her thither, where he would marry her in much Princely State: His manly Proportion, Beauty, and Courage, likewise fortified her in her Resolution, to commit herself to his Care and Conduct; and he failed not, at the ●●me appointed, with two trusty Servants, and a Horse for her to ri●● on, to meet her, and she mounted, they posted away to the Seaside; but not shipping being ready to go off, they waited so long, that the Noise of his Escape being brought to the King's Ear, such strict Search was made, that he was found, and the fair Lady in his company: But setting himself before her, he drew his Sword, and sternly commanded his Pursuers not to advance a Step, for if they did, they must come on the point of it; but they being a multitude, in hopes of Reward pressed forward to seize him, when the Duke so laid manfully about him, that nine or ten of them were slain, the rest beat off, many wounded, with a Cry raising the whole Country, his Servants slain in his Defence, he at last with the beauteous Margaret, was taken Prisoner, and both carried back to Cardiff Castle, till the King's Pleasure should be put out with Burning-glasses, and the Maid which he believed had enticed him to escape, should be put to death by strangling. This cruel Sentence being noised abroad, Grey's Wife understood that it was her dear Margaret that was doomed to die, whose Absence she had mourned ever since she was missing. This brought her almost to distraction; but taking more sober Advice, she for a good Sum got the Execution of the Sentence on both delayed, and writing to all the Clothier's Wives to haste to London, and meet her there, letting them know the Occasion; they failed not to do it, and going in their richest Apparel to the Palace, falling at the King's Feet, Grey's Wife shedding abundance of Tears, humbly besought His Highness to spare the Life of her poor innocent Maid whom the Love of the Duke his Brother had caused to fall under his Displeasure, and by him to be sentenced to death, The King upon this demanded who they were? and when he understood they were the Clothier's Wives, he bid them stand up, and ask them many Questions, hearing what a virtuous beautiful Maid she was, he was moved with Compassion towards her, and granted her Pardon, for Life and Liberty, but would in no wise do it for the Duke, fearing at one time or other he might effectually escape and raise fierce Wars against him, and withal strictly commanded that the Maid for her Presumption should be punished by seeing his Eyes put out.  
Grey's Wife humbly thanked the King, and returning with joy, caused fair Margaret to be released; but when she understood the Duke's Punishment was not remitted, and that she must be a Spectator of so killing a Sight, her Love to him made her burst into Tears, and passionately wish that the putting out her own Eyes might excuse him, since they had been criminal in leading him to do what he did; but nothing availed, for she was compelled to be at the woeful Sight, but before it was done, they embraced, kissed, and tenderly mourned, weeping over one another, so that the Hearts of those that stood by melted at their passionate Grief.  
The Duke, of a haughty Spirit, enraged to be thus dealt withal by his Brother, for Grief and Anger beat his Brains our against the Walls of the Castle wherein he was close confined, and so died; which woeful Tragedy fair Margaret no sooner heard of, but bursting into a flood of Tears, she discovered to Grey and his Wife, her Parentage, and the Miseries of her younger Years, at which they greatly wondered; and now becoming weary of the World, she vowed a Religious Life, went into a Nunnery, and for her virtuous Behaviour, was in time made Abbess, and spending her Days in Devotion, died an honourable Virgin.   

CHAP. V How a Law was made to Arrest Men for Debt, and how difficult it was to get Officers, no English being then found that would accept of the Place. How Tom. Dove was Arrested, and how Gerrard served the Officers. How Tom. Dove falling into Poverty, was sighted by his Servants, and others. How in his Despair the Clothiers fet him up again, so that he became very Rich, etc.  
IN the Reign of this King Henry the First, Arresting and Imprisoning Men for Debt was first established by Act of Parliament, taken from a Custom used among the Flemings; before, their Goods being only seizable, and their Persons free to labour and get more for the subsistence of themselves and Family; and however Creditable it is esteemed now amongst the Catchpoles, who make great Interest, and give good Sums of Money for their Places, the English Men in those Days so abhorred the Thoughts of thrusting their fellow-Subjects into Prisons, to restrain that Liberty which all things in Nature so much desire, and let them lie starving between Stone Walls, as too cruelly now it is seen, that it was as hard for the Sheriffs to get Catchpoles, as Hodgkins of Hallifax Hangmen, no English Man being to be found, though never so poor, that for any Money would take that despised Office upon him, so that they were obliged to send for Flemings, maintain them a Table, and give them large Salaries.  
Soon after this Law was made, Tom. Dove received great Losses by the Merchant's Goods being taken on the Seas, whilst France and England were at Wars, and coming up to Town to see if he could get in any Debts, the two Catchpoles, Flemings, hired by the Sheriffs of London to do the Office, were set on by his Creditors to seize him, and being showed him in the Street, after the Fashion of their Country, coming behind him with their Maces, first knocked him down, and then bid him stand, and charged him with Arrest. This startled him, and spoiled his Mirth; the thing was so unusual, that he knew not what to make of it, but thinking they designed to rob him, cried out, Thieves; so that a great Crowd got about them, and they had been knocked on the Head, had not the Creditors came in and told the Cause, and being known Citizens, pacified the Multitude. However, going into a Tavern, Tom Dove sent for Gerrard of Gerrard's- Hall, where he had some Effects lying, to come and bail him, and he accordingly came, and offered to be his Bail, affirming him to be a very honest Man, and though Fortune had now showed him a slippery Trick, to trip up his Heels, she would not doubt in a little time be more favourable, and raise him again. Then they demanded a Groat as their Fee, when but Two Pence was their due, or else (they swore) they would not take his Bail, but to Goal Tom. Dove must go. Ha! (said Gerrard, frowning on them) do you come hither to do justice, and by Extortion would break our Laws: To this they instantly replied, They would do as they list, for the Law was in their hands. Then looking on Dove, and seeing the Blood trickle down his Forehead, he demanded how it came, or who had dared to abuse him. Why, said Dove, these two Varlets knocked me down, without a Word speaking, and broke my Head. Nay then; said he, flauderkins if you are so insolent in this City, 'tis time to chastise ●●u, and not let you reign in your roguery, to abuse honest Men. Why, replied they, it is the Custom of our Country. What, said he, to be Rogues? Nay, then I'll show you the Custom of ours, and how we serve them. Then in his two mighty Paws he seized them, and in vain struggling, fling them on his Back, as if they had been little Children, carried them to the next Horse-Pond, and douced them over Head and Ears so long, till they were almost drowned, then turned them lose to the Rabble, who worried and kicked them about like Footballs. Being got clear, they sneaked away into their own Country, and gave such an Account of their Usage, that it was some Years before any Flemings could be persuaded to come over again to do this Office; nay in some Towns they were knocked on the Head in attempting to Arrest Men, and were so generally hated of the People, that they were as Egyptian Locust and Plague of the Nation.  
Tom. Dove was not idle all this while, but made his Escape, left London, and went home; but b●●nging little Money, his Servants, who were mostly Poor men's Children, that he had taken from the Parish, and brought up from their Infancies, at his own Charge, first began to murmur for their Wages; and though he gave every one as far as his Money would go, leaving himself not a Farthing, they unkindly forsook him, notwithstanding his passionate Entreaties and Beseeching, with Tears in his Eyes, that they would not leave him in his Distress, utterly to undo him by leaving his Work half undone.  
But the Clothiers hearing of his Misfortune, and pitying him, sent a collected Sum of 800 l. with part of which he paid his Debts, and employed the Overplus in carrying on his Trade, receiving again his ingrateful Servants, upon their Repentace. He became very Frugal, grew very Rich, married his Three Daughters with great Portions to Knights, built Almshouses, and died full of Years, beloved by all.   

CHAP. VI How the Clothiers assisted the King in his Wars with Men and Money, by which means he won great Victories, and compelled the French King to a Peace. How on his Return he made a Progress to visit them, and of his Entertainment, to his great Content.  
KIng Henry being in Wars against Lewis the French King, and hard put to it for Men and Money in another Country, the Clothiers in respect of what Kindness he had done them, and for the Honour of England, resolved to raise a great Stock of Money, and with the Leave of the Bishop of Salisbury who governed the Realm in the King's Absence. Five thousand Men, clothing them in white Coats li●●d with red, and arming them completely, sent them over, and Ten thousand Pounds, to the King, to enable him to maintain his Forces. The King seeing this, highly commended the Clothiers of England, saying, Never Prince had better Subjects. With this Auxilary Force he won many Battles and Towns, till the French King, tired out, was constrained to make Peace, allowing our King all the Charges he had been at in the Wars, vowing never to assist his Rebels, and not to molest him in any thing he was now in Possession of. So having settled his Affairs in Normandy, and the Frontiers, he returned in triumph, and as the first Mark of his Favour, made the Cloathworkers a Coporation, endowing them with large Privileges, bestowing many Manor-houses on them, as proper Places to set the Poor on work for their Advantage, and Peace firmly settled, he resolved to visit those, and Honour them with his Princely Presence, that had been so kind to him in his need.  
Spring come, he set forward with a Princely Train, and the first Visit was made to Thomas of Reading, who knowing before hand of his coming, made suitable Preparations, Feasting him as Richly as if he had been in his own Palace: For the King being brought into a great Hall, found four long Tables ready covered; and passing through that Place, he came into a fair large Parlour hung with Tapestry, interwoven with curious Devices in Gold, Silver, and Silk, where a Table was prepared for his Highness; all the Floor was covered with fine Scarlet Cloth, which after Dinner was distributed amongst His Majesty's Attendants. The King being sat, and the chiefest Nobility, a delicate Banquet was served up in Plate, and after that, Sweetmeats and Fruit in Glass Vessels curiously wrought; Wine went freely about, and the Attendants were very numerous. In the Hall dined the King's Servants, attended on by the Apprentices of the House, and all sounded with Melodius Music. Cedar-wood, and other Perfuming Woods were burnt to make a fragrant smell. After Dinner the King went to see the Work-houses, where the Cloth was prepared and made; in one he found Fifty Looms, and Men at Work in them merrily singing; in another 100 Wheels, with Maids a spinning at them; in another 100 Carders of Wool, in another 150 Poor men's Children picking the Wool, for which they had two Pence a Day and their Victuals; in another 50 Sheermen, in another as many Dyers, and in the next, Trullers; which great number of People the King wondered how he could maintain out of one Trade; and at his departure he was presented with a fair Golden Cup, embossed with many Devices relating to the Cloathworking Trade, which he ever used at his Table afterward: And for this great Kindness he built an Abbey in the Town, and a fair Castle, made Cole Governor of Reading, and when he died, himself was buried in the Abbey, keeping his Residence often in the Castle, saying, he could be no where better than among such good Neighbours.  
When the King had made his Progress to visit all the Clothiers, he returned home highly satisfied with the Entertainment he had received, and in London builded Places where they should bring and lay up their Cloth for Sale, to be viewed on certain days, prohibiting Stuffs and Silks to be brought from Foreign Parts; and enjoining his Subjects to follow his Example, in wearing Cloth Garments; so that the Woollen Manufacture grew not only Profitable, but Famous through all the World, And this Island by Strangers was called the Colchos, or Hesperian Land, from whence the Golden Fleeces were brought, to  and keep warm Mankind against the nipping Cold, and Rage of Winter Storms, and the Drapers than first began to Trade in Woollen Cloth, seeing it a very profitable way; for before, the Clothiers sold what was used in England themselves, for the proper use of the Natives, and Strangers, in their Apparel, in whole Pieces or Remnants, and had Stalls and Stands for that purpose; for the Merchants were under an Engagement not to sell any here, but what they bought was to be transported beyond the Seas.   

CHAP. VII. How Thomas of Reading, at the Crane Inn, at Colebrook, in his Return from London with a great Charge of Money, being in Bed, was let down by a Trap-door into a Scalding Cauldron, and Murdered. Of the sad Omens that preceded it. How the Murder was found out, the Host and Hostess hanged, and their House burnt down. Of his sumptuous Funeral in the Abbey of Reading, the Monument the King caused to be erected, and his Epitaph.  
THomas of Reading, frequently coming to London on his Occasions, used in his way to call at Colebrook, (since so named by his unhappy End, but) then only Brook Town, from a little Brook running by it into a River that carried the Water into the Thames, and his Inn was usually at the Crane, where, when he first came thither, lived an aged Couple of very honest People; but in conclusion, they dying, a villainous Fellow who had been Tapster with them for a time, though formerly a Soldier in the French Wars, prevailed with the old People's Daughter, who was a little silly, and married her; by which means he got his Head into the House, but (as it was afterwards found out) having a Wife alive, though it was kept secret, the poor Girl was soon suspected to die of Poison, and his other Wife, as if he had newly married, and brought her from the Northern Parts, was introduced, and being a cunning jade, she knew the way so to wheedle, coaks, and flatter her Guest, that they took her for a sharp, industrious Woman; so that Thomas of Reading often talking to her, was taken with her Discourse, and would lie now and than in the House, as he returned late from London, though in the end it proved his Ruin, as will hereafter appear.  
These People, it seems, though to appearance they had a good Trade, yet being wicked, God blasted their Endeavours; so that fretting in their Minds, they fell to contriving how to be Rich, but could find Success in nothing. At last the Wife contrived the Death of Thomas of Reading, after a wicked manner, imparting the Bloody Design to her Husband, who (tho' Villainous enough) was not willing to give Consent thereto, using Arguments to dissuade her, as the Danger of their Lives, etc. But she slighted what he said, and told him it was impossible it should be discovered, as she would manage it; so that understanding how she had laid the Plot, by her Persuasions, and tempted with the Thoughts of great Gain, he promised to be Assistant therein.  
In a little time after, Thomas of Reading called here, in his way to London, and ordered a Supper to be got ready against his Return at Night. Having dispatched his Business at London, he returned with Two Hundred Pound he had received of the Merchants; but by the way, met with many ill Omens of his Death: For his Horse floundered in a stiff, clayey Slough, and striving to get him out, slipped his Shoulder, so that he was forced to leave him in the next Village, and hire another. When he came near Colebrook, his Nose fell a bleeding, unusually, and he grew very sad, more-especially when he met with Ravens that flew accross and about him, croaking dismally. Coming to the Inn, he sat him down, and by the Heaviness and Melancholy that had seized his Spirits, looked very much concerned; which made the Host and Hostess ask how he did, and why he was so dull? To whom he replied, I know not; but the Signs I have observed, and the secret Impulses of my Heart, gives me to think I have not long to live, therefore I would fain reach home to make my Will, and prepare myself to leave the World. His saying this, made them suspect he had divined their Bloody Purposes.  
However, to be short, he was persuaded by some Arguments they used, to stay all Night, (only he writ a Letter to his Wife, to inform her of it, and where to find him if he came not by such a time,) and so gave his Enemies an Opportunity to facilitate their Ends: For finding himself drowsy, he desired to go to Bed, and was showed into the Fatal Chamber, where he read for some time, when a Schreech Owl came beating her boding Wings against the Window several times, with horrid Cries, and the Night Raven sat croaking on a Tree hard by. Bless me! said he, what can all these Presages of Death mean, but that I have not long to live? and so he went to Prayers a good while, and then to Bed. The Hostess listened at the Door, till she perceived he was asleep; and the Guest being all gone out of the House, she ran down to her Husband, and told him that now was the only time; and both together effected his unhappy Death after this manner. A Trap-door being made underneath his Bed, which was in a Room over a great Cauldron, they had nailed the Bed-cloaths to the further side of the Bed, to the Bedstead; so that now opening the Trap-door, he was shot into the Cauldron of scalding Water underneath, waking in his Fall, and crying, The Lord have Mercy on my Soul. These were his last Words, for soon he was stifled and scalded to Death, then with Pulleys having drawn the Trap-door up again, they drew him out, when dead, with an Iron Hook, stripping him, took his Money, and at a back Window threw the dead Body into the Brook; but as Providence ordered it, it was not carried away, but stopped near the House by a Tuft of Withes, and found the next Morning by some Fishermen, but who it was they knew not, till Cole's Wife came about Noon, and her Man with her, ask for her Husband; they denied he had been there, but she showing them the Letter they were startled, and hearing of a dead Body in the Brook she went to see it, and finding it her dear Husband, fell upon it and embraced it with Quteries, and a Flood of Tears; then search was made for his Horse, which being found in the Stable, the Host, struck with the Horror of the Gild, fled, but the Hostess was taken and charged with the Murder, which upon strict Examination she confessed, and that they had served several so. Soon after her Husband was seized by Hue-and Cry at Winchester, and both of them deservedly hanged, making a long Confession of their wicked Lives, too tedious hear to be set down.  
The Body of Cole was Embalmed, and notice sent to the Clothiers to come to his Funeral, who, very sorrowful at the News, failed not. The King hearing of this Disaster, protested he had lost one of the best Subjects in his Kingdom, ordering the Inn to be consumed with Fire, and laying a heavy Curse upon any that should hereafter rebuild it, ordering the Town, from the Body's being found in the Brook, ●o be called Colebrook, which Name it retains to this Day: He was buried with all the solemn Pomp imaginable at the King's new-founded Abbey at Reading, and the King was at the charge of a Stately Monument, with this Epitaph.  
HEre lies the worthy Clothier of the West,  
Whom God with Wealth and Honesty had blest,  
By murdering Hands the guiltless good Man died,  
Beloved he was, and was his Country's Pride;  
Reading ne'er boasted such a Man as he,  
But here his Dust lies to Eternity.  
As for the rest of the Clothiers they flourished many Years, got great Estates, and laid a Foundation for many Noble and Worshipful Families, being in must Esteem, and descending to the Grave full of Years, and th●ir Deaths lamented by Rich and Poor.    

* ⁎ * And thus having given as large an Account of the Lives and Actions of The Six Worthy Yeomen of the West, as our intended Brevity would permit, I refer you to the History more at large, sold by I Deacon at the Angel in Grit-spur-street, without Newgate.  
FINIS.