THE

_HISTORY_

OF

TOM LONG the Carrier

[Illustration]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN ALDERMARY CHURCH YARD

BOW LANE

Although the address "To the Reader" says--

"Of all the Toms that ever yet was nam'd,

Was ever Tom like TOM LONG fam'd,

Tom Tram, who mad pranks shews,

Unto Tom Long, will prove a Goose.

Tom Thumb is dumb until the pudding creep,

In which he was entomb'd, then out doth peep.

The fool may go to school, but ne'er be taught,

Such rare conceits with which Tom Long is fraught.

Tom Ass but for his ugly ears, might pass,

Since no such jewels as our Tom he wears.

Tom Tell Truth is but froth, the truth to tell,

From all the Toms, TOM LONG doth bear the bell,"

yet the Chap-book is very dreary fun, not even being enlivened by any

good illustrations--those supplied belonging to other books--but it

is valuable for its frontispiece, which represents a Chapman of

Elizabethan or Jacobean time, a veritable Autolycus. The other edition

in the British Museum, "Printed and Sold at Sympson's Warehouse in

Stone Cutter Street, Fleet Market," has a bad copy of this engraving.

THE

WORLD

TURNED

UPSIDE DOWN

OR THE

_FOLLY OF MAN_

EXEMPLIFIED

IN TWELVE COMICAL RELATIONS

UPON

UNCOMMON SUBJECTS

_Illustrated with Twelve curious Cuts

Truly adapted to each Story_

[Illustration]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN LONDON

[Illustration]

"Philosophers of old will tell us,

As Tycho, and such merry fellows,

That round this habitable ball

The beamy sun did yearly fall;

No wonder then the world is found

By change of place Turn'd Upside Down;

If revolutions strange appear

Within the compass of the sphere;

If men and things succession know,

And no dependance reigns below;

Since tis allow'd the world we dwell in,

Is always round the sun a sailing;

Experience to our knowledge brings;

That times may change as well as things,

And art than nature wiser grown,

Turns every object upside down,

Whim's epidemic takes her rise,

And constancy's become a vice.

He that to do is fortunate,

The darling minions of his fate!

To morrow feels his fate's displeasure,

Spoil'd his hoarded idol treasure!

And like this man, his emblem shows,

A sudden revolution knows.

His fortune grows profoundly scurvy

Turns the poor earthworms topsy turvy,

Becomes the tennis ball of fools,

Things quite form'd out of nature's rules.

Such as you see Atlas bear

Upon their backs this mighty sphere.

The young, the old, the middle aged,

Are all in this great task engaged;

And strive with wondrous eagerness

Which all the greatest part possess.

Since folly then has got the ascendant,

He's most a fool that han't a hand in't;

And as the mad brain'd world runs round

Still keeps towards the rising ground."

This is quite enough for a specimen of the style of this poem, and,

luckily, the illustrations explain themselves.

[Illustration: THE OX TURNED FARMER.]

[Illustration: THE OLD SOLDIER TURNED NURSE.]

[Illustration: THE REWARD OF ROGUERY, OR THE ROASTED COOK.]

[Illustration: THE DUEL OF THE PALFRIES.]

[Illustration: THE MAD SQUIRE AND HIS FATAL HUNTING.]

[Illustration: THE OX TURNED BUTCHER.]

[Illustration: GALLANTRY--A LA MODE--OR THE LOVERS CATCHED BY THE

BIRD.]

[Illustration: THE HONEST ASS AND MILLER.]

[Illustration: THE HORSE TURNED GROOM.]

[Illustration: THE WATER WONDER, OR FISHES LORDS OF THE CREATION.]

[Illustration: SUN, MOON, STARS AND EARTH TRANSPOSED.]

A Strange and Wonderful

RELATION

OF THE

OLD WOMAN

WHO WAS DROWNED AT

_RATCLIFFE HIGHWAY_

A Fortnight ago.

TO WHICH IS ADDED

THE OLD WOMAN'S DREAM,

A little after her Death.

PART THE FIRST.

[Illustration]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN LONDON.

This book is somewhat of a curiosity; it is the only one of its

kind in the whole series of Chap-books, and has been several times

reprinted in the country. It is illustrated, in every edition, with

engravings which have no connection with the text, which, however,

would be an impossible task, as the following page or so of the

commencement will show. The frontispiece has nothing whatever to

do with the book, but it is curious and valuable, as giving a

representation of the ducking-stool. There are two parts, but they

both consist of such rodomontade as the following:--

"It was the last Monday Morning about four o'clock in the afternoon

before sun rising, going over Highgate Hill I asked him if the Old

Woman was dead that was drowned at Ratcliffe Highway a few nights ago.

He told me he could not tell, but if I went a little farther I should

meet with two young men on horseback, riding under a mare, in a blue

red jerkin and a pair of white freestone breeches, and they would give

intelligence. So when I came up with the women they thought I was a

Hector that was come to rob them and therefore ran to me, but I most

furiously pursued before them, so that one of them for meer madness,

seeing him dead, drew out his sword and directly killed him. The horse

for vexation seeing himself dead ran away as fast as he could, leaving

them to go on foot upon another horse's back forty miles--Friend, said

I, I mean you no good, but pray inform me if the Old woman be dead yet

that was drowned at Ratcliff Highway a fortnight ago? and they told me

they could not tell; but if I went a little farther I should meet with

two women driving an empty cartful of apples, and a Mill Stone in the

midst, and they would give me particular intelligence--But when I came

up with them they would not satisfy me neither; but told me if I went

down to the waterside, there lived one Sir John Vang, and he would

give me true intelligence. So going by the waterside, I hooped and

hallowed, but I could make nobody see. At last I heard Six Country

Lads and Lasses, who were all fast asleep playing at nine pins under

a hay cock, piled up of pease straw in the midst of the Thames, and

eating of a roasted bran pudding freezing hot," etc., etc.

THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM.

Wright, in his "Early Mysteries," 1838, published some poems, by an

anonymous writer, which he assigned to the thirteenth century, called

"Descriptus Norfolciensum," by which it would appear that these tales

had their origin in Norfolk; and the "Folcs of Gotham" are mentioned

as early as the fifteenth century in the Townley "Mysteries." But be

that as it may, "The Merie Tales" are undoubtedly the work of Andrew

Borde, or Boorde, who lived in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

He was born at Holmesdale in Sussex, was educated at Oxford, and

afterwards became a Carthusian monk. At the persecution, _temp._ Henry

VIII., he escaped abroad, and travelled over many parts of Europe and

some portion of Africa. He settled at Montpellier, became a physician,

and practised as such on his return to England. For some reason, he

was imprisoned in the Fleet, where he died, April, 1549. There are two

black-letter editions without dates, and there is one in the Bodleian

library, with a woodcut of the hedging in the cuckoo, "The Merry

Tales of the Mad Men of Gotham. Gathered together by A.B. of Physick

Doctor," 1630; but Ant. à Wood, in his "Ath. Oxon." (Bliss, edition),

says it was printed in the reign of Henry VIII.

Gotham is a village about six miles from Nottingham, and the name of

the "Cuckoo bush" is still given to a place near the village.

THE

=Merry Tales=

OF THE

WISE MEN OF GOTHAM.

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LONDON.

TALE 1.

There was two Men of Gotham, and one of them was for going to

Nottingham market to buy sheep; and the other came from the Market,

and both met on Nottingham Bridge.--Well met, said one to the other,

Whither are you going, said he that came from Nottingham; Marry, said

he that was going thither, I am going to the market to buy sheep--To

buy sheep! said the other, which way will you bring them home? Marry,

said the other, I will bring them over this bridge--By Robin Hood,

said he that came from Nottingham, but thou shalt not--By Maid

Margery, said the other, but I will--You shall not, said the one. I

will, said the other.

Then they beat their staves one against the other, and then against

the ground, as if a hundred sheep had been between them. Hold then

there said the one. Beware of my sheep leaping over the bridge, said

the other--I care not said the one--They shall all come this way, said

the other--But they shall not, said the one--Then said the other, if

thou make much ado, I will put my finger in thy mouth. The Devil thou

wilt said the one. And as they were in contention, another Wise Man

that belonged to Gotham, came from the market with a sack of meal on

his horse; and seeing his neighbours at strife about sheep, and none

betwixt them, said he, Ah! fools, will you never learn wit! help me

to lay this sack upon my shoulder; and they did so, and he went to the

side of the bridge, and shook out the meal into the river, saying,

How much meal is there in the sack, neighbours? Marry, said they,

none.--By my faith, replies this Wise Man, even so much wit is there

in your two heads to strive for that which you have not.

Now which was the Wisest of these three, I leave you to judge.

TALE 2.

There was a man of Gotham that rode to the market with two bushels

of wheat, and because his horse should not be damaged by carrying too

great a burden, he was determined to carry the corn himself on his

own neck and still kept riding upon the horse until the end of his

journey.--Now I will leave you to judge which is the wisest, his horse

or himself.

TALE 3.

On a time the Men of Gotham fain would have pinned in the Cuckow, that

she might sing all the year; all in the midst of the town they had a

hedge made round in Compass, and got a cuckow, and put her into it,

and said, Sing here, and you shall lack neither meat nor drink all

the year--The Cuckow when she perceived herself encompassed within the

hedge, flew away. A vengeance on her, said these Wise Men, we made not

the hedge high enough.

TALE 4.

There was a Man of Gotham who went to Nottingham market to sell

Cheese, and going down the hill to Nottingham bridge one of the

cheeses fell out of his wallet, and ran down the hill. Whoreson, said

the fellow, what can you run to the market alone?--I'll now send one

after another; then laying down his wallet, taking out the cheeses, he

tumbled them down the hill, one after another; some ran into one bush,

and some into another; however he charged them to meet him in the

market place--The man went to the market to meet with the cheeses, and

staid till the market was almost over, then went and enquired of his

neighbours, if they saw the cheeses come to market? Why, who should

bring them? said one--Marry themselves, said the fellow, they knew the

way very well--A vengeance on them, they run so fast I was afraid they

would run beyond the market; I suppose by this time they are got

as far as York:--so he immediately rode to York, but was very much

disappointed; and to this day no man has ever heard of his cheeses.

TALE 5.

A Man of Gotham, bought at Nottingham market a trivet or bar iron, and

going home with it, his shoulder grew weary of the carriage; he set

it down, and seeing it had three feet, said Whoreson, thou hast three

feet, and I but two, thou shalt bear me home, if thou wilt--so set

himself down on it saying

Bare me along as I have bore thee,

For if thou dost not thou shalt stand still for me.

The Man of Gotham seeing that his trevit would not move, Stand still,

said he, in the Mayor's name, and follow me if thou wilt; and I can

shew thee the way.--When he went home, his wife asked him where the

trivet was? he told her it had three legs, and he but two, and he had

taught him the ready way to his house; and therefore he might come

home himself if he would. Where did you leave the trevit? said the

woman. At Gotham bridge, said he. So she immediately went and fetched

the trevit, otherwise she must have lost it, on account of her

husband's want of wit.

TALE 6.

A certain Smith of Gotham had a large wasp's nest in the straw at the

end of his forge, and there coming one of his neighbours to have his

horse shod, and the wasps being exceeding busy, the man was stung by

one of them; and being grievously affronted, he said, Are you

worthy to keep a forge or no, to have men stung with these wasps?--O

neighbour, said the smith, be content, and I shall put them from their

nest presently. Immediately he took a Coulter, and heated it red hot

and thrust it into the straw, at the end of the forge, and set it on

fire and burnt it up.--Then said the smith, I told thee I'd fire them

out of their nest.

TALE 7.

One Good Friday the Men of Gotham consulted together what to do with

their white herrings, red herrings, sprats, and salt fish, and agreed

that all such fish should be cast into the pond or pool in the middle

of the town, that the number of them might encrease against the

next year. Therefore every one that had any fish left did cast them

immediately into the pond--Then said one, I have as yet gotten left

so many red herrings, Well, said another, and I have left so many

whitings--Another immediately cried out, I have as yet gotten so many

sprats left;--And, said the last, I have as yet gotten so many salt

fishes, let them go together in the great pond without distinction,

and we may be sure to fare like Lords the next year--At the beginning

of the next Lent they immediately went about drawing the pond,

imagining they should have the fish; but were much surprised to find

nothing but a great eel. Ah! said they, a mischief on this eel, for

he hath eaten up our fish. What must we do with him, said one to the

other. Kill him, said one. Chop him in pieces, said another. Nay, not

so, said the other, let us drown him.--Be it accordingly so, replied

them all.--So they immediately went to another pond, and cast the eel

into the water. Lie there, said these wise men, and shift for thyself,

since you may not expect any help of us--So they left the eel to be

drowned.

TALE 8.

On a time the men of Gotham had forgotten to pay their rent to their

landlords, so one of them said to the other, To morrow must be pay

day, by whom can we send our money that is due to our landlord? upon

which one of them said, I have this day taken a hare, and he may carry

it, for he is very quick footed. Be it so, replied the rest, he shall

have a letter and a purse to put our money in, and we can direct her

the right way. When the letter was written, and the money put in a

purse, they immediately tied them about the hare's neck saying, You

must go to Loughboro' and then to Leicester, and at Newark is our

landlord; then commend us unto him, and there is his due. The hare,

as soon as she got out of their hands ran quite a contrary way--Some

said, Thou must go to Loughborough--Others said, let the hare alone

for she can tell a nearer way than the best of us--let her go.

TALE 9.

A Man of Gotham that went mowing in the meads, found a large

grasshopper; he immediately threw down his scyth, and ran home to his

neighbours, and said that the devil was there in the field, and was

hopping amongst the grass. Then was every man ready with their clubs

and staves, with halberts and other weapons to kill the grasshopper.

When they came almost to the place where the grasshopper was, said one

to the other, Let every man cross himself from the Devil, for we will

not meddle with him--So they returned again and said--We were blest

this day that we went no farther--O ye cowards! said he that left his

scyth in the mead, help me to fetch my scyth. No, answered they, it is

good to sleep in a whole skin; it is much better for thee to lose thy

scyth than to marr us all.

TALE 10.

On a certain time there were twelve men of Gotham, that went to fish,

and some stood on dry land. And in going home, one said to the other,

We have ventured wonderfully in wading, I pray God that none of us

come home to be drowned--Nay, Marry, said one to the other, let us see

that, for there did twelve of us come out--Then they told themselves,

and every one told eleven. Said the one to the other, There is one of

us drowned. They went back to the brook where they had been fishing

and sought up and down for him that was drowned, making great

lamentation.

A Courtier coming by, asked what it was they sought for, and why they

were sorrowful? Oh! said they, this day we went to fish in the brook;

twelve of us came out together, and one is drowned--Said the Courtier,

tell how many there be of you. One of them said eleven, and he did

not tell himself. Well, said the Courtier, what will you give me and I

will find the twelfth man. Sir, said they, all the money we have got.

Give me the money, said the Courtier, and began with the first, and

gave him a stroke over the shoulders with his whip, which made him

groan, saying Here is one; and so he served them all, and they all

groaned at the matter. When he came to the last, he paid him well,

saying Here is the twelfth man.--God's blessings on thy heart, said

they, for thus finding our dear brother.

TALE 11.

A Man of Gotham riding along the highway, saw a cheese, so drew his

sword and pricked it with the point in order to take it up. Another

man came by, and alighted, and picked it up, and rode away with it.

The man of Gotham rides back to Nottingham to buy a long sword to pick

up the cheese, and returning to the place where the cheese did lie, he

pulled out his sword, and pricking the ground, he said, if I had this

sword at the first, I should have gotten the cheese myself, but now

another has got it from me.

TALE 12.

A Man of Gotham who did not love his wife, she having fair hair, her

husband said divers times, He would cut it off, but durst not do

it when she was awake; so resolved to do it when she was asleep:

therefore one night he took up a pair of sheers and put them under his

pillow, which his wife perceiving, said to one of her maids, Go to bed

to my husband, for he thinks to cut off my hair to-night; let him cut

off thy hair, and I will give thee as good a kirtle as ever thou

didst see. The maid did so, and feigned herself asleep; which the man

perceiving, cut off the maids hair and wrapped it about the sheers,

and laid them under his pillow and went to sleep; then the maid arose

and the wife took the hair and sheers and went into the hall, and

there burnt the hair. The man had a fine horse that he loved much;

and the good wife went into the stable, cut off the tail of the horse,

wrapping the sheers up in it, and then laid them under the pillow

again. Her husband seeing her combing her head in the morning, he

marvelled very much thereat--The girl seeing her master in a deep

study, said, What the Devil ails the horse in the stable, he bleeds so

prodigiously? The man ran into the stable, and found the horse's tail

was cut off; then going to his bed, he found the sheers wrapped up in

his horse's tail. He then went to his wife, saying, I cry thee mercy,

for I intended to have cut off my horses tail. Yea, said she, self do,

self have--Many men think to do a bad turn but it turneth oftimes to

himself.

Tale 13 is rather too broad in its humour to be reproduced.

TALE 14.

A Man of Gotham took a young buzzard, and invited four or five

gentlemen's servants to the eating of it; but the old wife killed an

old goose and she and two of her gossips eat up the buzzard, and the

old goose was laid to the fire for the gentlemen's servants. So when

they came and the goose was set before them, What is this? said one of

them. A fine buzzard, said the man. A buzzard! said they, why it is

an old goose, and thou art a knave to mock us; and in anger departed

home.

The fellow was very sorry that he had affronted them, and took a bag,

and put in the buzzard's feathers; but his wife desired him before he

went to fetch her a block of wood, and in the intrim, she pulled out

the buzzard's feathers, and put in the gooses. Then the man taking the

bag went to the gentlemen's servants, and said, Pray be not angry with

me; you shall see I had a buzzard, for here be the feathers. Then he

opened the bag and shook out the goose's feathers. They said, Why thou

knave, could you not be content to mock us at home but art come

here to mock us? The one took a cudgel and gave him a dozen stripes,

saying, Heretofore mock us no more.

Tale 15 is too silly, and not worth reproducing.

TALE 16.

A young man of Gotham went a wooing to a fair maid; his mother warned

him before hand, saying, whenever you look at her, cast a sheep's eye

at her and say, How dost thou do, my sweet pigsnie![14] The fellow

went to the butchers shop and bought seven or eight sheeps eyes; and

then when this lusty wooer was at dinner, he would look upon his fair

wench, and cast in her face a sheep's eye, saying how do you do, my

sweet pigsnie?--How do you do, swine's face? said the wench; what do

you mean by casting a sheep's eye at me?--O sweet pigsnie, have at

thee another.--But I defy thee, swine's flesh, said the wench.--What,

my sweet old pigsnie be content, for if you live till next year, you

will be a foul sow.--Walk knave, walk, said she, for if you live till

next year, you will be a fool.

[Footnote 14: A term of endearment, generally used towards a

young girl:

"And here you may see I have

Even such another,

Squeaking, gibbering, of everie degree.

The player fooles dear darling _pigsnie_

He calls himselfe his brother,

Come of the verie same familie."

TARLTON'S _Horse Loade of Fooles_.

Chaucer, in "The Milleres Tale," says--

"Hire shoon were laced on her legges hie;

She was a primerole (primrose), a piggesnie."

]

TALE 17.

There was a man of Gotham who would be married, and when the day of

marriage was come, they went to church. The priest said, Do you say

after me. The priest said say not after me such words but say what I

shall tell you--Thou dost play the fool to mock with the Holy Bible

concerning Matrimony. Then the fellow said, Thou dost play the fool

to mock with the Holy Bible concerning Matrimony. The priest could not

tell what to say, but answered, what shall I do with this fool? And

the man said, What shall I do with this fool.--So the priest departed,

and would not marry him--But he was instructed by others how to do

and was afterwards married--And thus the breed of Gothamites has been

perpetuated even unto this day.

TALE 18.

There was a Scotchman who dwelt at Gotham, and he took a house, a

little distance from London, and turned it into an inn, and for a sign

he would have a Boars head; accordingly he went to a Carver, and said,

Make me a Bare heed. Yes, said the Carver. Then says he, Make me a

bare heed and thous have twenty pence for thy hire. I will do it, said

the Carver.--So on St. Andrew's day, before Christmas the which is

called Youl in Scotland, the Scot came to London for his Boar's head

to set up at his door. I say, to speak, said the Scotchman, hast thou

made me a bare's heed. Yes, said the Carver. Aye then thous a good

fellow. He went and brought a man's head that was bare, and said here

is your bare head! Aye, said the Scot, the mickle devil! is this a

bare heed? Yes, said the carver. I say, said the Scotchman, I will

have a bare heed, like a heed that follows the sow that has gryces.

Sir, said the Carver, I don't know a sow and gryces. What! whoreson,

know you not a sow that will greet and groan, and her gryces will run

after and cry Aweek, aweek. O, said the Carver it is a pig--Yes said

the Scotchman, let me have her heed made in timber, and set on

her scalp, and let her sing, whip, whire. The Carver said he could

not.--You whoreson, said he, gang as she'd sing Whip, whire.--This

shews that all men delight in their fancy.

TALE 19.

In old times, during these tales, the wives of Gotham got into an

alehouse, and said, They were all profitable to their husbands; which

way, good gossips? said the alewife.--The first said, I tell you all,

good gossips, I can brew or bake, so I am every day alike; and if I go

to the alehouse, I pray to God to speed my husband, and I am sure my

prayers will do him more good than my labour. Then said the second,

I am profitable to my husband in saving candle in the winter; for I

cause my husband and all my people to go to bed by daylight, and rise

by the same.--The third said, I am profitable in sparing bread, for I

drink a gallon of ale, care not how much meat and drink at home, so I

go to the tavern at Nottingham and drink wine and such other things,

as God sends me.--The fourth said, A man will for ever have more

company in another's house than his own, and most commonly in an

alehouse. The fifth said, My husband has flax and wool to spare, if

I go to other folks houses to do their work.--The sixth said, I spare

both my husbands wood and coals, and talk all the day at other folks

fire. The seventh said, beef, mutton and pork are dear, wherefore

I take pigs, hens, chickens, conies which be of a lower price.--The

eighth said I spair my husband's lie and soap, for whereas I should

wash once a week, I wash but once a quarter; then said the alewife,

and I keep all my husband's ale that I brew from sowering, for, as I

used to drink it most up, now I never leave a drop.

TALE 20.

One Ash Wednesday the Minister of Gotham would have a Collection of

his parishioners, and said unto them, My friends the time is come that

you must use prayer, fasting and alms; but come ye to shrift, I will

tell you more of my mind; but as for prayer, I don't think that two

men in the parish can say half the Pater Noster. As for fasting, ye

fast still, for ye have not a meal's victuals in a year. As for alms

deed, what should they do to give that have nothing to take? But as

one came to shrift and confessed himself to have been drunk divers

times in the year, but especially in Lent: the priest said In Lent you

should most refrain from drunkenness and refrain from drink--No, not

so, said the fellow, for it is an old proverb that fish would swim.

Yes, said the priest--it must swim in the water; I say you mercy,

quoth the fellow, I thought it should have swum in fine ale, for I

have been so.--Soon after the man of Gotham came to shrift, and even

the priest knew not what penance to give; he said, If I enjoin prayer,

you cannot say your Pater Noster. And it is but a folly to make you

fast, because you never eat a meals meat. Labour hard and get a dinner

on Sunday, and I will come and partake of it--Another man he enjoined

to fare well on Monday, and another on Tuesday, and one after another,

that one or the other would fare well once in a week, that he might

have part of their meat. And as for alms deeds the priest said, ye

be beggars all except one or two so therefore bestow your alms among

yourselves.

FINIS.

JOE MILLER'S

_JESTS_

BEING

A COLLECTION

OF

The most Brilliant JESTS and most pleasant

short Stories in the English Language--

_The greater Part of which are taken from the Mouth of that

facetious Gentleman whose Name they bear_.

[Illustration]

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JOE MILLER

Was a comedian, born 1684, died August 15, 1738; but, although he

might have originated the jests, he did not collect them, which was

done by John Mottley, a dramatist, in 1739. Miller was buried in

St. Clement's burial-ground, in Portugal Street, Clare Market--now

destroyed--and his tombstone was to be seen in 1852. Part of his

epitaph was--

"HERE LYE THE REMAINS OF

HONEST JO. MILLER

WHO WAS

A TENDER HUSBAND

A SINCERE FRIEND

A FACETIOUS COMPANION

AND AN EXCELLENT COMEDIAN," etc.

Hogarth is said to have engraved a ticket for his benefit on April 25,

1717, when he played Sir Joseph Wittol in Congreve's "Old Batchelor."

All jokes marked with an asterisk are in the first edition, but the

book has been somewhat expurgated.

"Joe Miller going with a friend one day along Fleet Street, and seeing

old Cross the Player, who was very deaf, and unwilling that any one

should know it, on the other side of the way, told his friend he

should see some Sport; so beckoning Cross with his finger, and

stretching open his mouth as wide as ever he could, as if he halloed

to him, though he said nothing; the old fellow came puffing from the

other side of the way. What a pox do you make such a noise for, do you

think one can't hear?

* "Joe Miller another day sitting in the window at the Sun tavern

in Clare Street, while a fish woman was passing by, crying, Buy my

soul--buy my maids! Ah! you wicked creature, said Joe, are you not

content to sell your own soul, but you must sell your maid's also.

"A person of quality coming into a church where several of his

ancestors lay buried, after he had praised them very much for worthy

men, Well, said he, I am resolved, if I live, to be buried as near

them as possible.

"One man told another who used not to be clothed very often, that his

new coat was too long for him; That's true answered the other, but it

will be longer before I get another.

* "A poor man who had a termagant wife, after a very long dispute, in

which she was resolved to have the last word, told her, if she spoke

another crooked word more he would beat her brains out: Why then,

Ram's Horns, you dog, said she if I die for it.

"A certain Country Squire asked a Merry Andrew why he played the fool?

For the same reason, said he, as you do, for want; you do it for want

of wit, I for want of money.

* "A Welshman bragging of his family, said, that his father's effigy

was set up in Westminster Abbey; being asked whereabouts, he said, In

the same monument with Squire Thynne, for he was his coachman.

"A very harmless Irishman was eating an apple pie with some quinces

in it. Arrah now, dear honey, said he, if so few of these quinces give

such a flavour, how would an apple pye taste made all of quinces.

* "An Irish lawyer of the Temple having occasion to go to dinner, left

this direction in the keyhole; Gone to the Elephant and Castle,

where you will find me, and if you cannot read this, carry it to the

stationer's and he will read it for you.

* "Two Oxford Scholars meeting on the road with a Yorkshire ostler,

they fell to bantering him; and told him, That they would prove him to

be an horse or an ass, Well, said the ostler, I can prove your saddle

to be a mule. A mule, said one of them, how can that be? Because said

the Ostler, it is something between a horse and an ass.

* "The Chaplain's boy of a man of war, being sent out of his own ship

on an errand to another, the boys were conferring notes about their

manner of living. How often do you go to prayers now? Why, answered

the other, in case of a storm or the apprehension of any danger from

an enemy. Aye, said the first, there is some sense in that; but my

master makes us go to prayers when there is no more occasion for it,

than for my leaping overboard.

* "King Henry VIII. designing to send a nobleman on an embassy to

Francis I. at a very dangerous juncture, he begged to be excused,

saying, Such a threatening message to so hot a prince as Francis I.

might go near to cost him his head. Fear not said old Harry: if the

French King should offer to take away your life, I will revenge it

by taking off the heads of the Frenchmen now in my power.--But of all

these heads, replied the Nobleman, not one would fit my shoulders.

* "A prince laughing at one of his nobles whom he had employed in

several embassies, told him he looked like an owl. I know not, said

the Courtier, what I look like; but this I know, that I have had the

honour several times to represent your Majesty's person.

* "A Mayor of Yarmouth, in antient times, being by his office a

justice of the peace, and one who was willing to dispense the laws in

the wisest manner, though he could hardly read, got himself a statute

book, where finding a law against firing a beacon, or causing one

to be fired, read it, Frying bacon or causing it to be fried; and

according went out the next night upon the scent, and being directed

by his nose to the Carriers house he found the man and his wife both

frying bacon, the husband holding the pan, while the wife turned it.

Being thus caught in the fact and having nothing to say for themselves

his worship committed them both to prison without bail or mainprize.

* "A gentleman who had been a shooting brought home a small bird with

him, and having an Irish servant, he asked him if he had shot that

little bird? Yes, he told him. Arrah, by my shoul, honey, replied the

Irishman, it was not worth the powder and shot, for this little thing

would have died in the fall.

* "The same Irishman being at a tavern, where the Cook was dressing

some Carp, he observed some of the fish moved, after they were gutted

and put in the pan, which much surprised honest Teague.--Well, now

by my faith, said he, of all the Christian creatures that ever I saw,

this same carp will live the longest after it is dead.

* "A young fellow riding down a steep hill, doubting if the foot of it

was boggish, called out to a clown that was ditching, and asked if

it was hard at the bottom? Aye, answered the countryman, it is hard

enough at the bottom, I will warrant you. But in half a dozen steps

the horse sunk up to the saddle girts, which made the young gallant

whip, spur, curse, and swear; Why you whoreson of a rascal, said he

to the ditcher, didst thou not tell me that it was hard at the bottom?

Aye, said the ditcher, but you are not halfway to the bottom yet.

* "An Englishman and a Welshman disputing in whose Country was the

best living; said the Welshman, there is such noble housekeeping in

Wales, that I have known above a dozen cooks to be employed at one

wedding dinner. Aye, replied the Englishman, that was because every

man toasted his own cheese.

* "One losing a bag of money of about Fifty pounds, between the Temple

Gate and Temple Bar, fixed up a paper, offering a reward to those who

took it and should return it. Upon which, the person that had it came

and wrote underneath it to the following effect: Sir, I thank you for

the offered reward, but indeed you really bid me to my loss.

* "A very humourous countryman having bought a barn in partnership

with a neighbour of his, neglected to make the least use of it, while

the other had plentifully stored his part with corn and hay. In a

little time the latter came to him, and conscientiously expostulated

with him about laying out his money to so little purpose. Why,

neighbour, said he, pray never trouble your head, you may do what you

will with your part of the barn, but I will set mine on fire.

* "The famous Tom Thynne, who was remarkable for his good housekeeping

and hospitality, standing one day at his gate in the Country, a beggar

came up to him and craved a mug of his small beer. Why, how now, said

he, what times are these, when beggars must be choosers! I say, bring

this fellow a mug of strong beer.

* "A profligate young Nobleman being in company with some sober

people, desired leave to toast the Devil. The gentleman who sat next

to him, said he had no objection to any of his Lordship's particular

friends.

* "A certain Lady of quality, sending her Irish footman to fetch

home a pair of new stays, strictly charged him to take a coach if

it rained, for fear of wetting them. But a great shower falling,

the fellow returned with the stays dripping wet; and being severely

reprimanded for not doing as he was ordered, he said he had obeyed

his orders. How then, answered the lady, could the stays be wet if you

took them into the coach with you? No replied honest Teague, I know

my place better, I did not get into the Coach, but rode behind, as I

always used to do.

"Two honest gentlemen, who dealt in brooms, meeting one day in

the street, one asked the other, how the devil he could afford to

undersell him as he did, when he stole the stuff, and made the brooms

himself? Why, you silly dog, replied the other, I steal them ready

made.

"A cowardly servant having been out a hunting with his master, they

killed a wild boar. The fellow thinking the boar stirred, betook

himself to a tree; upon which his master called to him, and asked

him, what he was afraid of, as the boar's guts were out? No matter for

that, said he, his teeth are in.

"One Irishman meeting another, asked, what was become of their old

acquaintance Patrick Murphy? Arrah! now, dear honey, answered the

other, he was condemned to die, but he saved his life by dying in

prison.

"One asked his friend, why he, being such a proper man himself, had

married so small a wife? Why, friend, said he, I thought you had known

that of evils we should chuse the least.

"Two gentlemen, one named Chambers and the other Garret, riding to

Tyburn, said the first, This would be a pretty tenement, if it had a

garret. You fool, says Garret, don't you know there must be Chambers

first.

"Two Irishmen having travelled on foot from Chester to Barnet, were

much tired and fatigued with their journey, and the more so when they

were told that they had still ten miles to London. By my shoul and St.

Patrick, cries one of them, it is but five miles apiece, let's e'en

walk on.

* "A country clergyman meeting a neighbour who never came to church

although an old fellow about sixty, he gave him some reproof on that

account and asked him if he never read at home? No, replied the clown,

I cannot read. I dare say, said the parson, You don't know who made

you? Not I, in troth, said the countryman. A little boy coming by at

the time--Who made you, child? said the parson. God, sir, said the

boy. Why, look you there quoth the clergyman, are you not ashamed to

hear a child five or six years old tell me who made him, when you, who

are so old a man, cannot? Ah! said the countryman it is no wonder that

he should remember; he was made but the other day, and it is a long

while, measter, since I was made."

A

WHETSTONE

FOR

DULL WITS

OR A

=Poesy=

OF NEW AND INGENIOUS

_RIDDLES_

Of Merry Books this is the Chief,

'Tis as a purging Pill;

To carry off all heavy Grief

And make you laugh your Fill

PRINTED & SOLD IN LONDON

Question. Into this world I came hanging,

And when from the same I was ganging,

I was cruelly batter'd and Squeez'd,

And men with my blood, they were pleas'd.

[Illustration]

Answer. _It is a Pipping pounded into Cyder._

Q. A Wide Mouth, no ears nor eyes,

No scorching flames I feel--

Swallow more than may suffice

Full forty at a meal.

[Illustration]

A. _It is an Oven._

Q. Tho' of great age

I'm kept in a Cage

Having a long tail and one ear,

My mouth it is round

And when Joys do abound

O' then I sing wonderful clear.

[Illustration]

A. _It is a Bell in a Steeple; the Rope betokens a Tail, & the Wheel

an ear._

Q. The greatest travellers that e'er were known

By Sea and land were mighty archers twain;

No armor proof, or fenced walls of stone,

Could turn their arrows; bulwarks were in vain.

Thro' princes courts, and kingdoms far and near,

As well in foreign parts as Christendom,

These travellers their weary steps then steer,

But to the deserts seldom come.

[Illustration]

A. _'Tis Death and Cupid, whose arrows pierce thro' the walls of Brass

or strong Armour in all Courts and Kingdoms in the habitable World._

Q. Two Calves and an Ape

They made their escape

From one that was worse than a spright;

They travell'd together

In all sorts of weather

But often were put in a fright.

[Illustration]

A. _'Tis a Man flying from his scolding wife; the two Calves and an

Ape, signify the calves of the legs and the Nape of his neck, which by

travelling was expos'd to the weather._

Q. A thing with a thundering breech

It weighing a thousand welly,

I have heard it roar

Louder than Guys wild boar,

They say it hath death in its belly.

[Illustration]

A. _It is a Cannon._

Q. It flies without wings,

Between silken strings

And leaves as you'll find

It's guts still behind.

[Illustration]

A. _It is a Weaver's Shuttle._

Q. Close in a cage a bird I'll keep,

That sings both day and night,

When other birds are fast asleep

It's notes yield sweet delight.

[Illustration]

A. _It is a Clock._

Q. To the green wood

Full oft it hath gang'd,

Yet yields us no good

Till decently hang'd.

[Illustration]

A. _It is a hog fattened with Acorns, which makes good bacon when

hanged a drying._

Q. Rich, yellow, and bright,

Long, slender and white,

Both one in another there are;

Now tell unto me,

What this Riddle may be,

Then will I your wisdom declare.

[Illustration]

A. _A Diamond ring on a Lady's finger._

Q. A Visage fair

And voice is rare,

Affording pleasant charms;

Which is with us

Most ominous

Presaging future harms.

[Illustration]

A. _A Mermaid, which betokens destruction to Mariners._

Q. To ease men of their care

I do both rend and tear

Their mother's bowels still;

Yet tho' I do,

There are but few

That seem to take it ill.

[Illustration]

A. _'Tis a Plough which breaks up the bowels of the Earth for the

sowing of Corn._

Q. By sparks in lawn fine

I am lustily drawn,

But not in a chariot or Coach;

I fly, in a word,

More swift than a bird,

That does the green forest approach.

[Illustration]

A. _An Arrow drawn in a Bow by a Gentleman Archer._

Q. By the help of a guide

I often divide

What once in a green forest stood;

Behold me, tho' I

Have got but one eye,

When that is stopt I do the most good.

[Illustration]

A. _A Hatchet, with which they cleave Wood; till the Eye is stopped

with the Haft, it cannot perform business._

Q. My back is broad, my belly is thin,

And I am sent to pleasure youth;

Where mortal man has never been

Tho' strange it is a naked truth.

[Illustration]

A. _A Paper Kite which mounts the lofty air._

_THE TRUE_

TRIAL

OF

UNDERSTANDING:

OR

=Wit Newly Reviv'd=

BEING A BOOK OF

RIDDLES

Adorned with Variety of

PICTURES.

New Riddles make both Wit and Mirth,

The Price of a Penny, yet not half the Worth.

By S. M.

PRINTED AND SOLD IN

LONDON.

Q. Tho' it be cold I wear no cloaths,

The frost and snow I never fear,

I value neither shoes nor hose,

And yet I wander far and near;

Both meat and drink are always free,

I drink no cyder, mum, nor beer,

What Providence doth send to me

I neither buy, nor sell, nor lack.

[Illustration]

A. _A Herring swimming in the Sea._]

Q. Once hairy scenter did transgress,

Whose dame, both powerful and fierce,

Tho' hairy scenter took delight

To do the thing both fair and right,

Upon a Sabbath day.

[Illustration]

A. _An old Woman whipping her Cat for Catching Mice on a Sunday._

Q. Promotion lately was bestow'd

Upon a person mean and small;

Then many persons to him flow'd,

Yet he return'd no thanks at all;

But yet their hands were ready still

To help him with their kind good will.

[Illustration]

A. _It is a Man pelted in the Pillory._

Q. There was a sight near Charing Cross,

A creature almost like a horse;

But when I came the beast to see,

The head was where the Tail should be.

[Illustration]

A. _A Mare tied with her tail to the Manger._

Q. As I walked thro' the street,

It was near twelve o'clock at night;

Two all in black I chanc'd to meet,

Their eyes like flaming fire bright.

They passed by, and nothing said,

Therefore I was not much afraid.

[Illustration]

A. _Two long lighted Links carried along the street._

Q. Three men near the flowing Thames,

Much pains and labour they did take

They did both scratch and claw their wems,

Until their very hearts did ache.

It is as true as e'er was told,

Therefore this riddle now unfold.

[Illustration]

A. _Three Fidlers in Thames Street, who played up a bridegroom in the

Morning, who gave them nothing to drink._

Q. There is a steeple standing fair,

'Tis built upon a rock of care,

Therein a noise both fierce and shrill,

Tho' here was neither clock nor bell.

[Illustration]

A. _An old woman scolding in a high crown'd Hat._

Q. My weapon is exceeding keen,

Of which I think I well may boast,

And I'll encounter Colonel Green

Together with his mighty host.

With me they could not then compare,

I conquer them both great and small,

Tho' thousands stood before me there

I stood and got no harm at all.

[Illustration]

A. _A Man mowing of Grass with a Scyth, which took all before it._

Q. I saw five birds all in a cage,

Each bird had but one single wing,

They were an hundred years of age,

And yet did fly and sweetly sing.

The wonder did my mind possess,

When I beheld their age and strength;

Besides, as near as I can guess,--

Their tails were thirty feet in length.

[Illustration]

A. _A Peel of Bells in a Steeple._

_The whole Trial and Indictment of_

SIR JOHN BARLEYCORN, KNT.

_A Person of noble Birth and Extraction and well known by

Rich and Poor throughout the Kingdom of Great Britain; Being

accused of several Misdemeanours, by him committed against his

Majesty's Liege People; by killing some, wounding others, and

bringing Thousands to Beggary, and ruins many a poor family._

Here you have the substance of the Evidence given in against him on

his Trial; with the Names of the Judges, Jury and Witnesses. Also the

comical Defence Sir John makes for himself, and the Character given

him by some of his Neighbours, namely Hewson the Cobler, an honest

Friend of Sir John's, who is entomb'd as a Memorandum, at the Two

Brewers in East Smithfield.

_Taken in Short Hand by Thomas Tosspot, Foreman of the Jury._

[Illustration]

LICENSED AND ENTERED ACCORDING TO ORDER.

THE

Arraigning and Indicting

OF

SIR JOHN BARLEYCORN, KNT.

_Newly Composed_

BY A WELL WISHER TO SIR JOHN,

AND ALL THAT LOVE HIM.

[Illustration]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN ALDERMARY CHURCH YARD

LONDON.

This Chap-book not only contains the following ballad, but sets forth

the offences of which Sir John is guilty, and witnesses are called to

prove them. They consist principally of his making people quarrelsome,

etc. For the defence it is asserted that "there is not such another

in the land that can do what he can and hath done for he can make a

cripple to go, he can make a coward to fight with a valiant soldier;

nay he can make a good soldier to feel neither hunger or cold." It is

needless to say he is triumphantly acquitted.

[Illustration]

"A NEW SONG.

"_To the Tune of Old Sir John Barleycorn, Or Jack of all Trades._

"All you that be good fellows,

Come listen unto me,

If that you love the alehouse

And merry company.

"Attend unto my story,

It makes my heart full sorry,

Which I fear is too true

And many doth it rue.

"'Tis of a gallant noble Knight,

Which many know full well,

An honest man, I witness can,

If I the truth may tell.

"His name is Sir John Barleycorn,

Who makes both beer and bread,

What would do all that now are born,

If Barleycorn was dead?

"For as I abroad did walk,

I heard a piteous cry,

And many a man did talk

That Barleycorn must die,

"His enemies increase so fast,

At board, and eke at bed,

I fear their malice will not cease,

Till they cut off his head.

"For Smut the honest blacksmith,

With many tradesmen more;

And Snip the nimble Taylor,

Doth vow that he shall die.

"And Will the Weaver doth complain,

With many thousands more;

I hope their labour is in vain,

Therefore they may give o'er.

"Yet now awhile give ear,

You that are standers by,

And you presently shall hear

Sir John condemned to die.

"All you that love poor Barleycorn,

A good word for him give,

And he that speaks against him,

I wish he may not live."

The foregoing is nothing like so witty, or funny, as the Black-Letter

ballad. A copy is in the British Museum (Rox. i. 343), which, although

it has been reprinted, is not generally known, and is too good to

lose.[15]

"A pleasant new Ballad to Sing both Even and Morne,

Of the bloody Murther of Sir John Barleycorne.

"To the tune of _Shall I lye beyond thee_.

"As I went through the North Countrey,

I heard a merry greeting,

A pleasant toy, and full of joy,

two noble men were meeting.

"And as they walked for to sport,

vpon a Sommers day,

Then with another noble man

they went to make a fray.

"Whose name was sir John Barleycorne

he dwelt down in a dale;

Who had a kinsman dwelt him nigh

they cal'd him Thomas Goodale.

"Another named Richard Beere,

was ready at that time;

Another worthy Knight was there,

call'd sir William White Wine.

"Some of them fought in a blacke Jacke,

some of them in a Can;

But the chiefest in a blacke pot,

like a worthy noble man.

"Sir John Barleycorne fought in a Boule

who wonne the victorie;

And made them all to fume and sweare

that Barleycorne should die.

"Some said kill him, some said drowne,

others wisht to hang him hie;

For as many as follow Barleycorne

shall surely beggers die.

"Then with a plough they plowed him vp

and thus they did deuise,

To burie him quicke within the earth

and swore he should not rise.

"With horrowes strong they combed him

and burst clods on his head:

A joyfull banquet then was made,

when Barleycorne was dead.

"He rested still within the earth

till raine from skies did fall

Then he grew vp in branches greene,

which sore amazed them all.

"And so grew vp till Midsommer,

which made them all afeard;

For he was sprouted vp on hie

and got a goodly beard.

"Then he grew till S. James tide

his countenance was wan,

For he was growne vnto his strength,

and thus became a man.

"With hookes and sickles keene,

into the field they hide,

They cut his legs off by the knees,

and made him wounds full wide.

"Thus bloodily they cut him downe

from place where he did stand,

And like a thiefe for treachery,

they bound him in a band.

"So then they tooke him vp againe

according to his kind;

And packt him vp in seuerall stackes

to wither with the wind.

"And with a pitchfork that was sharpe,

they rent him to the heart,

And like a thiefe for treason vile

they bound him in a cart.

"And tending him with weapons strong,

vnto the towne they hie,

And straight they mowed him in a mow

and there they let him lie.

"Then he lay groaning by the wals,

till all his wounds were sore;

At length they took him vp againe

and cast him on the floore.

"They hyred two with holly clubs,

to beat on him at once,

They thwacked so on Barlycorne

that flesh fell from the bones.

"And then they tooke him vp againe

to fulfill womens mind

They dusted and they sifted him,

till he was almost blind.

"And then they knit him in a sacke

which grieued him full sore;

They steep'd him in a Fat, God wot,

for three dayes space and more,

"Then they tooke him vp againe,

and laid him for to drie,

They cast him on a chamber floore,

and swore that he should die.

"They rubbed and they stirred him

and still they did him turne,

The Malt man swore that he should die

his body he would burne.

"They spightfully tooke him vp againe

And threw him on a kill:

So dried him then with fire hot,

and thus they wraught their will.

"Then they brought him to the mill,

and there they burst his bones,

The Miller swore to murther him

betwixt a pair of Stones.

"Then they tooke him vp againe,

and seru'd him worse than that

For with hot scalding liquor score

they washt him in a Fat.

"But not content with this, God wot,

that did him mickle harme,

With threatning words they promised

to beat him into barme

"And lying in this danger deep

for feare that he should quarrell,

They took him straight out of the fat

and tunn'd him in a barrell.

"And then they set a tap to him,

euen thus his death begun;

They drew out euery drain of blood,

whilst any drop would run,

"Some brought iacks vpon their backs

some brought bill and bow,

And euery man his weapon had,

Barlycorne to overthrow.

"When sir John Goodale heard of this

he came with mickle might

And there he took their tongues away,

their legs or else their sight.

"And thus sir John in each respect

so paid them all their hire,

That some lay sleeping by the way

some tumbling in the mire--

"Some lay groning by the wals,

some in the streets down right,

The best of them did scarcely know

what they had done ore night.

"All you good wiues that brew good ale

God turne from you all teen,

But if you put too much water in

the devill put out your eyne.

[Footnote 15: This ballad, which is circa 1640, was stolen

wholesale by Robert Burns, as an examination of "John

Barleycorn" will prove.]

"FINIS.

"LONDON, PRINTED FOR JOHN WRIGHT, AND ARE TO BE SOLD AT HIS SHOP IN

GUILTSPURRE STREET, AT THE SYNE OF THE BIBLE."

LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER.

There can be very little doubt but that this virago was a living

being, for the first edition known of her "Life and Pranks"--which

was published in 1582, and which differs materially from the Chap-book

version--bears internal evidence of her reality; and she must have

lived in the reign of Henry VIII., for, in chapter ii. she finds, on

her arrival in London, her mistress drinking with Doctor Skelton

(poet laureate, who died 1529), Will Summers the King's Jester, and a

Spanish knight called Sir James of Castille. As the 1582 edition does

not mention her death, she might then have been alive. The Chap-book

version says, "After marriage she kept a house at Islington." This may

have been true, but she also seems to have had one on the Southwark

side of the river, for a scarce tract, called "Holland's leaguer,"

etc. (London, 1632), says, "It was out of the _Citie_ yet in the view

of the _Citie_ only divided by a delicate _River_: there was many

handsome buildings, and many hearty neighbours, yet at the first

foundation, it was renowned for nothing so much as for the memory of

that famous Amazon, _Longa Margarita_, who had there for many years

kept a famous _infamous_ house of open Hospitality," and on the tract

is a woodcut of the house. That she was well known, appears in an old

book, "Pierces Supererogation, on a new prayse of the Olde Asse," by

Gabriell Harvey, 1593, p. 145: "Phy, Long Megg of Westminster would

have been ashamed to disgrace her Sonday bonet with her Satterday

witt. She knew some rules of Decorum; and although she were a lustie

bounsing rampe, somewhat like Gallemella or maide Marian, yet was she

not such a roinish rannell, or such a dissolute gillian-flurtes, as

this wainscot-faced Tomboy.'

It is probable from this, as speaking of her in the past tense, that

she was then dead, and this is the more likely, as there is an entry

in the curious diary of Philip Henslowe, proprietor of the Rose

Theatre near Bankside, Southwark, relating to her. He kept a register

of all the plays performed by the servants of Lord Strange and the

Lord Admiral, and by other companies, between February 19, 1591-2, and

November 5, 1597. Against each entry was put the sum he received as

a proprietor from either a part or the whole of the galleries; so we

read, "R the 14 of febreary 1594, at long mege of westmester (18[16])

_l._iii. _s._ix. _d._o." It was performed at the theatre at Newington

Butts, which Howes, in his continuation of Stowe's "Chronicles"

(1631), mentions as having been there "in former time." By whom it

was acted seems uncertain, as the heading reads, "_In the name of God,

Amen, beginning at_ newington _my_ lord admirell men, _and_ my lord

chamberlen men, as followeth, 1594."

It is a singular coincidence that on this very February 14, 1594,

the Registers of the Stationers' Company should have an entry: "xiiij

Febr. John Danter. Entred for his Copie &c. a ballad entituled The mad

merye pranckes of Long Megg of Westm(inster) ... vj^_d_."

That the play was popular, is evidenced by the fact that in N. Field's

play, "Amends for Ladies" (1618), Meg is not only mentioned, but the

play is spoken of by Fee simple: "Faith, I have a good mind to see

Long Meg and the Ship at the Fortune."

[Footnote 16: This shows how popular the play was, as it notes

it had the long run of eighteen representations.]

THE WHOLE

=Life and Death=

OF

LONG MEG

OF

WESTMINSTER

[Illustration]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN ALDERMARY CHURCH YARD.

LONDON

CHAP. 1.

WHERE MEG WAS BORN, HER COMING UP TO LONDON, AND HER USAGE TO THE

HONEST CARRIER.

In the reign of Henry VIII. was born in Lancashire, a maid called LONG

MEG. At eighteen years old she came to London to get her a service;

Father Willis the Carrier being the Waggoner, and her neighbour,

brought her up with some other lasses. After a tedious journey, being

in sight of the desired city, she demanded why they looked sad? We

have no money said one, to pay our fare. So Meg replies, If that be

all, I shall answer your demands, and this put them in some comfort.

But as soon as they came to St. John's Street, Willis demanded their

money. Say what you will have, quoth she. Ten shillings a piece, said

he. But we have not so much about us, said she.--Nay, then I will have

it out of your bones.--Marry, content, replied Meg; and taking a staff

in her hand, so belaboured him and his man, that he desired her for

God's sake to hold her hand.--Not I, said she, unless you bestow an

angel on us for good luck, and swear e'er we depart to get us good

addresses.

The Carrier having felt the strength of her arm, thought it best to

give her the money, and promised not to go till he had got them good

places.

CHAP. 2.

OF HER BEING PLACED IN WESTMINSTER, AND WHAT SHE DID AT HER PLACE.

The Carrier having set up his horses, went with the lasses to the

Eagle in Westminster, and told the landlady he had brought her three

fine Lancashire lasses, and seeing she often asked him to get her a

maid, she might now take her choice. Marry, said she I want one

at present, and here are three gentlemen who shall give their

opinions--As soon as Meg came in, they blessed themselves, crying

Domine, Domine, viee Originem.[17]

So her mistress demanded what was her name; Margaret, forsooth, said

she briskly--And what work can you do? She answered she had not been

bred unto her needle, but to hard labour, as washing, brewing, and

baking, and could make a house clean--Thou art, quoth the hostess, a

lusty wench, and I like thee well, for I have often persons that will

not pay--Mistress, said she, if any such come let me know, and I'll

make them pay, I'll engage.--Nay, this is true, said the Carrier, for

my carcase felt it; and then he told them how she served him--On this

Sir John de Castile, in a bravado, would needs make an experiment of

her vast strength; and asked her, If she durst exchange a box o' the

ear with him. Yes, quoth she, if my mistress will give me leave. This

granted, she stood to receive Sir John's blow, who gave her a box with

all his might, but it stirred her not at all; but Meg gave him such

a memorandum on his ear that Sir John fell down at her feet.--By

my faith, said another, she strikes a blow like an ox, for she hath

knocked down an Ass.--So Meg was taken into Service.

[Illustration]

[Footnote 17: In the 1582 edition the passage runs, "As soon as

they saw long Meg they began to smile, and Dr. Skelton in his

mad merry vain blessing himself began thus,

Domine, Domine, Vid: Origin."

]

CHAP. 3.

THE METHOD MEG TOOK TO MAKE ONE OF THE VICARS PAY HIS SCORE.

Meg so bestirred herself, she pleased her mistress, and for her

tallness was called Long Meg of Westminster.

One of the lubbers of the Abbey had a mind to try her strength, so

coming with Six of his associates one frosty morning calls for a

pot of Ale, which being drank, he asked what he owed? To which Meg

answers, Five Shillings and Threepence.

[Illustration]

O thou foul scullion, I owe thee but three shillings and one penny,

and no more will I pay thee. And turning to his landlady, complained

how Meg had charged him too much. The foul ill take me, quoth Meg, if

I misreckon him one penny, and therefore, Vicar, before thou goest

out of these doors, I shall make thee pay every penny; and then she

immediately lent him such a box on the ears, as made him reel again.

The Vicar then steps up to her, and together both of them went by the

ears.--The Vicars head was broke, and Megs Cloaths torn off her back.

So the Vicar laid hold of her hair, but he being shaved she could not

have that advantage; so laying hold of his ears, and keeping his pate

to the post, asked him how much he owed her? As much as you please

said he.--So you knave, quoth she, I must knock out of your bald pate

my reckoning. And with that she began to beat a plain song between the

post and his pate. But when he felt such pain, he roared out he would

pay the whole--But she would not let him go, until he laid it down,

which he did, being jeered by his friends.

CHAP. 4.

OF HER FIGHTING AND CONQUERING SIR JAMES OF CASTILE A SPANISH KNIGHT.

All this time Sir James continued his suit to Meg's mistress but to

no purpose. So coming in one day and seeing her melancholy, asked what

ailed her? for if any one has wronged you I will requite you--Marry,

quoth she, a base knave in a white sattin doublet has abused me, and

if you revenge my quarrel, I shall think you love me--Where is he?

quoth Sir James.--Marry--said she, he said he would be in St. George's

Fields--Well, quoth he, do you and the Doctor go along with me, and

you shall see how I'll pumel the knave.

Unto this they agreed, and sent Meg into St. George's Fields

beforehand. Yonder, said she, walks the fellow by the windmill. Follow

me, hostess, said Sir James, I will go to him. But Meg passed as if

she would have gone by. Nay, stay, said Sir James, you and I part not

so; I am this gentlewoman's champion, and fairly for her sake will

have you by the ears--With that Meg drew her sword, and to it they

went.

At the first blow she hit him on the head, and often endangered

him--At last she struck his weapon out of his hands, and stepping up

to him, swore all the world should not save him--O, save me, Sir,

said he, I am a Knight and it is but a woman's matter; do not spill

my blood. Wer't thou twenty Knights, said Meg, and was the King

here himself, I would not spare thy life, unless you grant me one

thing--Let it be what it will, you shall be obeyed--Marry, said

she, that this night you wait on my plate at this woman's house, and

confess me to be your master.

This being yielded to, and a supper provided, Thomas Usher and others

was invited to make up the feast; and unto whom Sir James told

what had happened.--Pho! said Usher, jeeringly, it is no such great

dishonour for to be foiled by an English gentleman, since Cæsar the

Great was himself driven back by their extraordinary courage. At this

juncture, Meg came in, having got on her man's attire. Then said

Sir James, This is that valiant gentleman whose courage I shall ever

esteem. Hereupon she pulling off her hat, her hair fell about her

ears, and she said I am no other than Long Meg of Westminster; and so

you are heartily welcome.

At this they all fell a laughing, nevertheless at supper time,

according to agreement, Sir James was a proper page; and she, having

leave of her mistress, sat in state like her Majesty--Thus Sir James

was disgraced for his love, and Meg was counted a proper woman.

CHAP. 5.

HER USAGE TO THE BAILIFF OF WESTMINSTER, WHO CAME INTO HER MISTRESS'S

AND ARRESTED HER FRIEND.

A Bailiff having for the purpose took forty shillings, arrested a

gentleman in Meg's mistress's house, and desired the company to keep

peace. She, coming in, asked what was the matter? O, said he, I'm

arrested. Arrested! and in our house! Why this unkind act to arrest

one in our house; but, however take an Angel, and let him go. No, said

the Bailiff, I cannot, for the creditor is at the door. Bid him come

in said she, and I'll make up the matter. So the creditor came in: but

being found obstinate she rapped him on the head with a quart pot, and

bid him go out of doors like a knave; he can but go to prison, quoth

she, where he shall not stay long, if all the friends I have can fetch

him out.

The creditor went away with a good knock, and the Bailiff was going

with his prisoner. Nay, said she, I'll bring a fresh pot to drink with

him. She came into the parlour with a rope, and knitting her brows,

Sir Knave, said she, I'll learn thee to arrest a man in our house,

I'll make thee a spectacle for all catchpoles; and tossing the

rope round his middle, said to the gentleman, Sir, away, shift for

yourself, I'll pay the bailiff his fees before he and I part. Then she

dragged the bailiff unto the back side of the house, making him go up

to his chin in a pond, and then paid him his fees with a cudgel; after

which he went away with the amends in his hands; for she was so well

beloved that no person would meddle with her.

CHAP. 6.

OF HER MEETING WITH A NOBLEMAN, AND HER USAGE TO HIM AND TO THE WATCH.

[Illustration]

Now it happened she once put on a suit of man's apparel. The same

night it fell out, that a young nobleman being disposed for mirth,

would go abroad to see the fashions, and coming down the Strand,

espies her, and seeing such a tall fellow, asked him whither he was

going? Marry, said she, to St. Nicholas's to buy a calve's head. How

much money hast thou? In faith, said she, little enough, will you

lend me any?--Aye, said he, and putting his thumb into her mouth,

said--There's a tester. She gave him a good box on the ear, and said,

There's a groat, now I owe you twopence. Whereupon the Nobleman drew,

and his man too; and she was as active as they, so together they go;

but she drove them before her into a little Chandler's shop, insomuch

that the Constable came in to part the fray, and, having asked what

they were, the nobleman told his name, at which they all pulled off

their caps--And what is your name? said the Constable. Mine, said she

is Cuthbert Curry Knave--Upon this the constable commanded some to lay

hold on her, and carry her to the Compter. She out with her sword and

set upon the watch, and behaved very resolutely; but the constable

calling for clubs, Meg was forced to cry out, Masters, hold your

hands, I am your friend, hurt not Long Meg of Westminster--So they all

staid their hands, and the nobleman took them all to the tavern; and

thus ended the fray.

CHAP. 7.

MEG GOES A SHROVING, FIGHTS THE THIEVES OF ST. JAMES'S CORNER AND

MAKES THEM RESTORE FATHER WILLIS THE CARRIER HIS HUNDRED MARKS.

Not only the cities of London and Westminster, but Lancashire also,

rung of Meg's fame: so they desired old Willis the Carrier to call

upon her, which he did, taking with him the other lasses. Meg was

joyful to see them, and it being Shrove Tuesday, Meg went with them to

Knightsbridge, and there spent most of the day, with repeating tales

of their friends in Lancashire, and so tarried the Carrier, who again

and again enquired how all did there; and made the time seem shorter

than it was. The Night growing on, the carrier and the two other

lasses were importunate to be gone, but Meg was loath to set out, and

so stayed behind to discharge the reckoning, and promised to overtake

them.

It was their misfortune at St. James's Corner to meet with two thieves

who were waiting there for them and took an hundred marks from Willis

the Carrier, and from the two wenches their gowns and purses.--Meg

came up immediately after, and then the thieves, seeing her also in a

female habit, thought to take her purse also; but she behaved herself

so well that they began to give ground. Then said Meg, Our gowns and

purses against your hundred marks; win all and wear all. Content,

quoth they.--Now, lasses, pray for me, said Meg--With that she buckled

with these two knaves, beat one and so hurt the other, that

they entreated her to spare their lives--I will, said she, upon

conditions.--Upon any condition, said they--Then, said she, it shall

be thus: 1. That you never hurt a woman, nor any company she is in.

2. That you never hurt lame or impotent men.

3. That you never hurt any Children or innocents.

4. That you rob no carrier of his money.

5. That you rob no manner of poor or distressed.

Are you content with these conditions? We are, said they. I have no

book about me, said she, but will you swear on my smock tail? which

they accordingly did, and then she returned the wenches their gowns

and purses, and old Father Willis the Carrier an hundred marks.

The men desiring to know who it was had so lustily be-swinged them,

said, To alleviate our sorrow pray tell us your name? She smiling,

replied, If any one asks you who banged your bones, say Long Meg of

Westminster once met with you.

CHAP. 8.

MEG'S FELLOW SERVANT PRESSED; HER USAGE OF THE CONSTABLE; AND

OF HER TAKING PRESS MONEY TO GO TO BOLOGNE.

In those days were wars between England and France, and a hot press

about London. The Constables of Westminster pressed Meg's fellow

servant and she told them if they took him her mistress was undone.

All this could not persuade the Constable, but Harry must go, on which

she lent the Constable a knock--Notice being given to the Captain, he

asked who struck him--Marry, quoth Meg, I did, and if I did not love

soldiers, I'd serve you so too. So taking a Cavalier from a mans hand,

she performed the exercise with such dexterity, that they wondered;

whereupon she said, Press no man, but give me press money, and I

will go myself. At this they all laughed, and the Captain gave her an

Angel. Whereupon she went with him to Bologne.

CHAP. 9.

OF HER BEATING THE FRENCHMEN OFF THE WALLS OF BOLOGNE, FOR WHICH

GALLANT BEHAVIOUR SHE IS REWARDED BY THE KING WITH EIGHT PENCE

PER DAY FOR LIFE.

King Henry passing the seas took Bologne; hereupon the Dauphin with a

great number of men surprised and retook it. Meg being a Laundress

in the town, raised the best of the women, and with a halberd in her

hand, came to the walls, on which some of the French had entered, and

threw scalding water and stones at them, that she often obliged them

to quit the town before the soldiers were up in arms--And at the sally

she came out the foremost with her halberd in her hand to pursue the

Chace.

The report of this deed being come to the ears of the King, he allowed

her for life, eight pence a day.

CHAP. 10.

OF HER FIGHTING AND BEATING A FRENCHMAN BEFORE BOLOGNE.

During this, she observed one who in a bravado tossed his pike; she

seeing his pride, desired a drum, to signify that a young soldier

would have a push at pike with him. It was agreed on, and the place

appointed, life against life.

On the day the Frenchman came, and Meg met him, and without any salute

fell to blows; and, after a long combat, she overcame him, and cut off

his head. Then pulling off her hat her hair fell about her ears.

By this the Frenchman knew it was a woman, and the English giving a

shout, she by a Drummer sent the Dauphin his soldier's head, and said,

An English Woman sent it.

The Dauphin much commended her, sending her an hundred crowns for her

Valour.

CHAP. 11.

OF HER COMING TO ENGLAND, AND BEING MARRIED.

The Wars in France being over, Meg came to Westminster, and married a

soldier, who, hearing of her exploits, took her into a room and making

her strip to her petticoat, took one staff, and gave her another,

saying, As he had heard of her manhood, he was determined to try

her--But Meg held down her head, whereupon he gave her three or four

blows, and she in submission fell down upon her knees desiring him to

pardon her--For, said she, whatever I do to others, it behoves me to

be obedient to you; and it shall never be said, If I cudgel a knave

that injures me, Long Meg is her husband's master; and therefore use

me as you please--So they grew friends, and never quarrelled after.

CHAP. 12.

LONG MEG'S USAGE TO AN ANGRY MILLER.

Meg going one day with her neighbours to make merry, a miller near

Epping looking out, the boy they had with them about fourteen years

old, said, Put out, miller, put out.--What must I put out? said he.--A

thief's head and ears, said the other.

At this the Miller came down and well licked him, which Meg

endeavoured to prevent, whereupon he beat her; but she wrung the stick

from him, and then cudgelled him severely; and having done, sent the

boy to the Mill for an empty sack, and put the Miller in, all but his

head; and then fastening him to a rope she hawled him up half way, and

there left him hanging. The poor Miller cried out for help, and if his

wife had not come he had surely been killed, and the mill, for want of

corn, set on fire.

CHAP. 13.

OF HER KEEPING HOUSE AT ISLINGTON, AND HER LAWS.

After Marriage she kept a house at Islington. The Constable coming one

night, he would needs search Meg's house, whereupon she come down in

her shift with a cudgel, and said, Mr. Constable take care you go

not beyond your Commission, for if you do, I'll so cudgel you, as you

never was since Islington has been.--The Constable seeing her frown,

told her he would take her word, and so departed.

Meg, because in her house there should be a good decorum, hung up a

table containing these principles; First--If a Gentleman or Yeoman had

a charge about him, and told her of it, she would repay him if he lost

it, but if he did not reveal it, and said he was robbed, he should

have ten bastinadoes, and afterwards be turned out of doors.

Secondly, whoever called for meat and had no money to pay, should have

a box on the ear, and a cross on the back that he might be marked and

trusted no more.

Thirdly. If any good fellow came in, and said he wanted money, he

should have his belly full of meat and two pots of drink.

Fourthly. If any rafler came in, and made a quarrel, and would not

pay his reckoning, to turn into the fields and take a bout or two with

Meg, the maids of the house should dry beat him, and so thrust him out

of doors.

These and many such principles, she established in her house, which

kept it still and quiet.

FINIS.

MERRY FROLICKS

OR THE

_Comical Cheats_

OF

SWALPO

A NOTORIOUS PICK POCKET

And the Merry Pranks of

ROGER the CLOWN

[Illustration]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN ALDERMARY CHURCH YARD

BOW LANE LONDON

Nowadays, Swalpo would have made a fortune as a prestidigitateur, for

his was the high art of pocket-picking, and people used to employ

him to show his talents for their amusement, even after he had become

virtuous, and steward to a nobleman. The frontispiece represents him

meeting with a countryman at Bartholomew Fair, and cautioning him

against pickpockets. The countryman tells him he has a broad piece,

which he puts in his mouth. Swalpo instructs a confederate boy, who

tumbles and falls down in front of the countryman, scattering a lot of

change, which he held in his hand. The people round about help to pick

up the money, and the boy declares he has got it all except a broad

piece of gold. Swalpo then comes up, and says he saw the countryman

put it in his mouth; it is discovered, and the countryman gets as

badly used as a "welsher" at a race meeting.

The next engraving shows how "Swalpo steals a fine Coat from a

Nobleman's back."

"The whole Company being greatly pleased with the ingenuity of the

last trick, Swalpo said, Alas, gentlemen, this trick is not worth

talking of, such as this, we send our boys about. There is now a

Nobleman going by the door, I will wager a guinea I steal his coat

from off his back before all his followers. The gentlemen staked each

their guinea, and Roger and Swalpo covered them as before. Then out

went Swalpo, and dogged the Nobleman to a tavern; as soon as he was

conducted upstairs, Swalpo went to the barkeeper, and desired to

borrow an apron for the Nobleman his master would only be served by

himself; he ran so nimbly, and did everything so handily, that the

Company were mightily pleased with him, taking him for a servant to

the house; he never came into the room but he passed some merry jest,

and when they spoke to him, his answers pleased them all mightily.

"When he found them in a good humour, he resolved not to trifle,

wherefore as he waited behind the Lord's chair he took out his knife,

and made a slit in the back seam of his coat, and ran downstairs for

more liquor, when he returned, as soon as he came near his Lordship he

started back, asking what taylor made that coat, which would not hold

one day? Some of the Company rising and seeing the slash, said the

taylor had affronted my Lord--Said he I paid him his price, and he

shall hear of it--My Lord, said Swalpo, it is only the end of a thread

has slipt, such things often happen; there is a fine drawer of my

acquaintance lives in the next street, if your Lordship pleases, I

will convey it under my master's cloak, and return immediately. The

Nobleman borrows a great coat of one of the Company, and gave it unto

Swalpo, who immediately came down to the vintner, and told him what

had happened, and to prevent its being seen in the streets, desires

him to lend him his Cloak. The Vintner shewed him where it was, which

Swalpo put on, as also a hat which hung on the next pin; thus he walks

off with them, and coming to the tavern at which the gentlemen waited,

he went into a room, changed his cloaths, then returns and salutes

them. Says one, Instead of a coat you come in a cloak; so then opening

the cloak they were surprised to see the rich embroidered Coat. Then

Roger laughed heartily; but when he told them how he had performed it,

they all burst into a great laughter."

[Illustration]

Space will only admit of one more story of his dexterity in picking

pockets after notice given:--

"The Nobleman hearing of his dexterity in taking watches desired him

to do it. Swalpo bid the Nobleman be on his guard; so he walked up and

down the room as did also Swalpo. While the Lord was disputing warmly

with some of the Company, Swalpo who watched his opportunity, gently

tickles the Lord with a feather under the right ear; which makes him

on a sudden quit the watch to scratch himself, and clapping his hand

to his fob again, he found it gone. He looks behind him, and sees

Swalpo with the watch in his hand, bowing, which occasioned much

laughter."

[Illustration]

THE

=Life and Death=

OF

SHEFFERY MORGAN

THE

_Son of Shon ap Morgan_

[Illustration]

NEWCASTLE; PRINTED IN THIS YEAR

There are several editions of this book, and parts of it are amusing.

Sheffery was the son of a small farmer, and received some slight

education. His father sent him to the university, where he wasted his

time, and learnt nothing; but his father, considering his studies were

sufficient and complete, got the promise of a living from the bishop,

provided Sheffery could preach a sermon he could approve of. The

day came and he knew nothing that he should say--in fact, he had not

brains enough to compose a sermon--but "Sheffery no sooner enters the

church, but he steps into the pulpit, and so begun as followeth. 'Good

people, all hur knows, there's something expected from hur by way

of Discourse, and seeing we are all met together, take the following

matter as an undeniable truth; There are some things that I know and

you know not, and there are some things that neither you nor I know;

For thus, as I went over a stile, I tore my breeches; that I know,

and you know not; but what you'll give me towards the mending of them,

that you know and I know not; but what the knave the taylor will have

for mending them, that neither you nor I know.'"

This sermon did not gain Sheffery his proposed living, so he started

for London to seek his fortune. On the road, he joined two Welsh

drovers, who asked him to help them and they would share with him the

shilling they were to receive. "At last they came to Smithfield where

the owner gave them a whole shilling, then was their care to part this

one piece equally amongst three; Sheffery being ingenious said, 'We'll

go change it for three groats:' to which they consented: So going from

street to street, at last they came to Lombard Street, where Sheffery

spies a tray full of groats, and cry'd Here, hur will do it, if ever.

The gentleman of the shop being at dinner, the hatch was shut, and

nobody in the shop but an old jackanapes chained, upon the cáunter;

Sheffery leaning over the hatch said 'Good sir, will you give hur

three groats for a shilling?' and held the shilling forth, which the

jackanapes took, and put it down into the place where he used to see

his master put money, and minded Sheffery no more; but hur was very

urgent with the jackanapes for hur change; and said 'Good Sir, what

does hur intent to do? Will hur give her three groats for a shilling

or no; But the jackanapes not minding, stirred hur Welsh blood up,

fearing that the old shentleman was minded to sheat them, which caus'd

a great croud about the door, so that the gentleman of the house heard

them, and coming into the shop to see what was the matter, began to

be rough with them, doubting they intended to rob his shop; but they

cried out, that they were poor Welshmen that thought no hurt but

desired to have three groats for a shilling. The gentleman finding

them to be three poor ignorant fellows, asked them for their shilling;

they immediately told him they had given it to hur poor aged father.

The gentleman in great wrath cry'd out, You villains, do you think I'm

the son of a jackanapes. And threatening to set them by the heels; but

discovering their simplicity asked them what the jackanapes did with

it. Quoth they, he put it into that hole. So he supposed it might

be, and gave them three groats, bidding them be gone, so away went

Sheffery's countrymen to their places provided for them, but Sheffery

had hur fortune to seek."

Which he did with varying success; married the widow of a physician,

set up as doctor, got a wonderful reputation, and finally died,

leaving his practice to his son Shon ap Morgan.

There is a Second Part to this history.

THE

WELCH TRAVELLER;

OR THE

=Unfortunate Welchman=

By HUMPHREY CORNISH

[Illustration]

NEWCASTLE. PRINTED IN THE PRESENT YEAR

This is another of the satires against the Welsh, which were so

frequent in the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. It was

written in the latter part of the seventeenth century, as the first

edition shows.

"The Welch Traveller; or the Unfortunate Welchman;

"If any Gentleman do want a Man,

As I doubt not but some do now and than,

I have a Welchman though but meanly clad--

Will make him merry be he nere so sad:

If that you read, read it quite ore I pray,

And you'l not think your penny cast away.

"By Humphry Crouch.

"London printed for William Whitwood at the Sign of the Bell in Duck

Lane near Smithfield 1671."

The engraving to that edition is exactly similar to the Chap-book

frontispiece.

As the frontispiece to the Aldermary edition (from which the subjoined

illustrations are taken) is almost similar to "The Life and Death of

Sheffery Morgan," one from a Newcastle Chap-book of about the same age

has been substituted. This is a metrical story of the adventures of a

Welshman who was going along star-gazing.

[Illustration]

"For as hur gaz'd upon the Sky,

For want of better wit,

Poor Taffy fell immediately

Into a great deep pit.

"Had not a shepherd been hur friend,

And help'd hur quickly out,

Hur surely then had had an end,

Hur makes no other doubt."

Hungry and weary, he arrived at an alehouse, where the hostess gave

him rotten eggs, which he cast in her face, and fled. Seeing an apple

tree, he climbed it in order to assuage his hunger.

"Up into the tree hur gets,

The owner came anon,

Made hur almost besides hur wits,

A cruel fight began.

[Illustration]

"He pelted hur with large huge stones

And hur did apples cast;

The stones did so benumb her pones

That down hur come at last."

He fled, and lying down under a hedge, saw a couple of lovers, one of

whom dropped a gold ring, which he picked up and appropriated. But

"Going thro' a town, God wot,

Against some ill bred curs,

Hur shewed it to a chattering trot

Who said the ring was hers."

An altercation ensued, and it ended in their going before a justice,

where the Welshman, calling the justice a "great Boobie," was sent to

the stocks. Whilst there, the lovers passed him, and he told them that

the woman had the ring. She was apprehended and put with him in the

stocks.

[Illustration]

"Now Taffy had his hearts desire

He had her company,

But when he did begin to jeer,

She in his face did fly."

He was released, and finding a house open and the proprietor absent,

he entered and began feeding on the bacon smoking up the chimney,

sitting astride of it; but fell down, bacon and all, when the owner

and his wife were sitting by the fire. The man beat him severely, and

he ran away. Joining some gipsies on the road, they agreed to rob the

house of its bacon, by letting Taffy down the chimney with a rope.

This was done.

[Illustration]

"They let him down, to work he falls,

The bacon strait doth bind,

The gipsies up the bacon haul

And leave the fool behind."

He went to the larder and helped himself to the bread and butter,

and by his sooty and begrimed appearance he frightened the maid, who

thought he was the devil; and she alarmed her master, who came with

a sword, but was appalled by the sight of the pseudo-fiend. He walked

away, frightening the children, till the women of the town determined

to drive the devil out; and sorely they beat poor Taffy, who took

refuge in the church, where he was captured by the sexton, who was not

afraid of him, carried before a justice, and condemned to stand for

"one long hour or more" in the pillory, where the history leaves him.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

JOAKS UPON JOAKS.

OR

_No Joak like a true Joak_.

BEING THE

Diverting Humours of Mr. John Ogle a Life

Guard Man

THE

MERRY PRANKS OF LORD MOHUN AND THE

EARLS OF WARWICK AND PEMBROKE

WITH

_Rochesters Dream, his Maiden Disappointment and

his Mountebanks Speech_

TOGETHER WITH

The diverting Fancies and Frolicks of Charles 2

and his three Concubines

[Illustration]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN LONDON.

Space will only admit of a few of these "Joaks," even if their quality

would permit them to be reproduced for general perusal. "Another time

Ogle wanted a pair of boots which were brought to him. They fitting

him he walks up and down the shop to settle them to his feet, but

espying an opportunity, he ran out of the shop, and the shoemaker

followed him, crying, Stop thief, stop thief--No, gentlemen, it is for

a wager, I am to run in boots, and he shoes and stockings. Then,

said the mob, Well done boots, shoes and stockings can never overtake

thee--So Ogle got clear off with the boots."

[Illustration]

"One time the Earl of Warwick being out late one night and in company

of an officer who had an artificial leg, they went into the Dark house

near Billingsgate, but by the way the wary Warwick scraped a deal of

dust out of a rotten post, and as he was putting it up before several

people, one asked him what that powder was good for? Warwick said, it

is good for all manner of bruises, sores, and scalds. And to shew the

excellency of it, he desired them to bring him a kettle of scalding

hot water. Then rubbing the powder on his friends artificial leg, he

put it into the water. Now, the people seeing he was not hurt, soon

bought up all the powder, so that his lordship very shortly raised

between three and four pounds. Soon after this a very ingenious

drayman who had purchased some of the powder, being in company with

some of his calling, and having laid a wager that he could put his

leg into a kettle of scalding water without hurting himself. The wager

being laid, he, like a cunning dog, got into a private room, to rub

the powder of rotten post upon his leg. Which done, he returns to the

kitchen, and plunged his leg into the kettle of scalding hot water

which made him roar out like a town bull, and what was worst, he had

like to have lost his leg."

[Illustration]

Lord Pembroke was once playing the fool with a woman of low degree,

when she persuaded him to strap her child upon his back, which when

done, she ran away, and left him the child to take care of.

[Illustration]

The frontispiece is supposed to represent the following scene:--"The

Earl of Rochester being out of favour at the Court took private

lodgings on Tower Hill, where being in disguise, he set up a

mountebank's stage upon the hill, and spoke to the Mob in the

following manner.

"Gentlemen and Ladies.

"Here is my famous Unguentum Aureum, or Golden Ointment, so very

famous for curing all kinds of distempers in men, women and children.

Look here, good people, this is my noble Tinctura Hyperboriacorum

prepared only by myself. This will make the blind to see, the deaf to

hear and the dumb to speak; nay there is nothing can restore life

so soon as this; for with three drops of this tincture I restored a

gentleman to life who had lost his head seven years; but he being

a state criminal, the Emperor made me fly to Germany for my great

exploit; Therefore I am come here to seek my fortune, with my

incomparable and famous tincture, which cures all manner of sickness,

hectick fever, jaundice, looseness, megrims, and all other distempers

incident to mankind," etc.

THE

_HISTORY_

OF

ADAM BELL, CLIM OF THE CLOUGH.

AND

WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLIE.

Who were three Archers good enough

The best in the North Country.

[Illustration]

NEWCASTLE: PRINTED IN THIS PRESENT YEAR.

This Chap-book follows the old poem very closely, and, in its main

facts, is almost identical with an edition of 1550.[18]

The story is briefly as follows:--Of the three outlaws, only one,

William of Cloudeslie, was married, and he longed to see his wife

and children at Carlisle. He went, was welcomed by his wife, but

was betrayed to the sheriff by an old woman whom he had kept out

of charity over seven years. His house was surrounded, and, as no

entrance could be forced, it was set on fire. William let down his

wife and children out of a back window, and at last he was compelled

to sally forth in order to escape being burnt. He was overcome and

captured, and sentenced to be hanged next day. A little boy heard of

this, and ran and told Adam Bell and Clim, who went to Carlisle, and,

in spite of fearful odds against them, rescued William when on his

road to execution. They performed prodigies of valour, killed the

justice, and sheriff, and hundreds of the citizens, and finally

got clear off. William's wife joined them, and, fearful of the

consequences of their deeds, they set off at once to London to sue

for pardon from the king. At first he would not hear of it, but at

the queen's intercession he relented and pardoned them, just before a

letter arrived from Carlisle narrating their evil doings. The pardon

could not be recalled, but the king, having heard of their wonderful

shooting, determined that they should beat all his archers or die.

William did so, by cleaving a hazel wand at four hundred paces, and

then shooting an apple off his son's head at a hundred and twenty

paces. The king was so struck with these marvellous feats that--

"Now God forbid, then said the King,

That thou should shoot at me.

I give thee Eighteen pence a Day,

And my Bow shalt thou bear,

Yea, over all the North Country,

I make thee Chief Keeper.

Ill give thee Thirteen pence a Day,

Said the Queen, by my fay

Come fetch the payment when thou wilt

No man shall say thee Nay.

William, I make thee Gentleman,

Of Clothing and of Fee,

Thy Brethren of my Bedchamber

For they are lovely to see.

Your Son, for he's of tender age,

Of my Cellarists shall be;

And when he comes to Man's Estate

Better preferr'd shall be;

And William bring your wife, said she,

I long full sore to see;

She shall be chief Gentlewoman

To govern my Nursery."

It will be seen from the foregoing short description, that the

frontispiece has nothing to do with the book. It is very evidently

belonging to some history of Robin Hood, as he is represented in the

centre at the top, having on one side either the Bishop of Carlisle

or the Abbot of St. Mary's, and on the other the beggar, tinker, or

shepherd who thrashed him, while at the bottom are Little John, Friar

Tuck, and Maid Marian.

[Footnote 18: "Adam bel Clym of the cloughe and wyllyym of

cloudesle. (colophon) Imprinted at London in Lothburye by

Wyllyam Copland." Black letter.]

A

TRUE TALE

OF

ROBIN HOOD.

[Illustration]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN ALDERMARY CHURCH YARD

LONDON

[Illustration]

Whilst the poems and ballads on Robin Hood are more plentiful than

on any other Englishman, the Chap-books are comparatively scarce,

probably on account of the impossibility of condensing his numerous

adventures and exploits into the conventional twenty-four pages. There

are several editions printed in London, all having similar engravings,

of which, however, but three or four belong properly to the work,

which are reproduced below, the first being Robin Hood and the Abbot

of St. Mary.

[Illustration]

"He bound the Abbot to a tree,

And would not let him pass

Before that to his men and he,

His Lordship had said Mass."

The next is Robin's attack on the Bishop of Ely.

[Illustration]

"He riding down towards the North,

With his aforesaid train

Robin and his men did issue forth,

Them all to entertain.

And with the gallant grey goose wing,

They shew'd to them such play,

That made their horses kick and fling,

And down their riders lay.

Full glad and fain the Bishop was,

For all his thousand men,

To seek what means he could to pass

From out of Robin's ken.

Two hundred of his men were kill'd,

And fourscore horses good,

Thirty who did as captives yield,

Were brought to the Green Wood--

Which afterwards were ransomed

For twenty marks a man,

The rest set spurs to horse and fled

To the town of Warrington."

And there is the representation of the treacherous monk bleeding him

to death.

[Illustration]

"This sad perplexity did cause

A fever as some say,

Which him into confusion draws,

Tho' by a stranger way.

This deadly danger to prevent,

He hy'd him with all speed

Unto a Nunnery with intent

For health's sake there to bleed.

A faithless friar did pretend

In love, to let him blood,

But he by falsehood wrought the end

Of famous Robin Hood."

THE

_HISTORY_

OF THE

BLIND BEGGER

OF BEDNAL GREEN.

[Illustration: Young _Monford_ Riding to the Wars where he

unhapily lost his Eyesight]

Licensed and Enterd according to Order

Printed for _T. Norris_, at the _Looking-Glass_ on _London Bridge_.

The illustrations to this very scarce Chap-book are evidently of

earlier date than 1715, to which it is assigned, and, with the

exception of the one of the blind beggar and his dog, have probably

very little to do with the letter-press. The frontispiece is more

likely to represent "Prince Rupert and his dogge Pudle" than "Young

Monford Riding to the Wars." The ballad is well known, and extremely

popular in England; it was written in the reign of Elizabeth, to

commemorate the tradition of Henry de Montfort, a son of Simon de

Montfort, the famous Earl of Leicester, founder of the House of

Commons, who was slain at the battle of Evesham, August 4, 1265. His

son, Henry, who was left for dead on the field, was found, according

to the ballad, by a baron's daughter, who had come to search for her

father, but finding young Montfort half dead and deprived of sight by

his wounds, she "was moved with pitye and brought him awaye."

"In secret she nurst him, and swaged his paine,

While hee through the realme was beleev'd to be slaine;

At length his faire bride she consented to bee,

And made him glad father of prettye Bessee.

And now lest oure foes oure lives sholde betraye,

Wee clothed ourselves in beggar's arraye;

Her jewelles shee sold, and hither came wee;

All our comfort and care was our prettye Bessee."

The Chap-book differs somewhat in detail from the ballad. It places

the time in the wars with France, and the scene itself in France,

whither Monford went, accompanied by his wife in man's attire. He was

wounded and blind, and was discovered on the field by his wife and

servant, and on his recovery to health they all returned to England;

but his relations, for some unknown reason, treated him very coldly,

and this their high spirits could not brook, so it ended in their

settling down at Bethnal Green, where she spun and he turned beggar.

Here a professional beggar named Snap introduced himself to him, and

"invited him to their Feasts, or Rendezvouse in White chappel, whither

he having promised to come, and they between them tipp'd off four

black Pots of Hum, they at that time parted." His wife took him to the

"rendezvouse," where he not only thoroughly enjoyed himself, but the

beggars presented him with a dog trained to the business.

[Illustration]

Soon after this pretty Betty was born, and at fifteen years of age was

a marvel of beauty, and a paragon of accomplishments. Betty then left

her parents, and obtained a situation at an inn at Rumford, where she

found plenty of lovers, all of whom, except the knight, withdrew their

pretensions to her hand when they heard she was only the daughter of a

blind beggar. The knight, however, was constant, and they had just set

out together to see old Monford, when the knight's uncle came up, and,

having followed them, created a scene at the beggar's residence, when,

to end it, Monford proposed to give angel for angel with the knight's

uncle, as a fortune for the young people. The uncle's servant was sent

for coin, and the two old gentlemen set themselves to their task of

dropping angels against each other; but the beggar kept producing

cats' skins filled with gold, and beat the knight's uncle. This money

was made up to £3000 by Monford, who also gave Bessie "a hundred

more to buy her a gown." Monford declared his pedigree; everybody was

pleased and happy, and the young couple were duly married.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: The young Knight that Married pretty _Betty_]

THE HISTORY OF THE

BLIND BEGGAR

_Of Bethnal Green_;

SHEWING

HIS BIRTH AND PARENTAGE.

His going to the Wars, losing his sight, and turning Beggar at Bethnal

Green. Of his getting Riches, and the Education of his Daughter; who

is courted by a young Knight.--Of the Beggar's dropping Gold with the

Knight's Uncle.--Of the Knight's Marriage with the Beggar's Daughter;

and the Discovery of his famous Pedigree.

[Illustration]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN ALDERMARY CHURCH YARD BOW LANE LONDON

[Illustration]

"The Beggar Trav'lling with his Dog,

Brings home good store of Wealth to prog

With which he does outvie the Knight,

And weds his Child to her delight."

[Illustration: THE BLIND BEGGAR RECEIVING ALMS.]

[Illustration: MONTFORT RETURNING FROM THE BEGGARS' FEAST.]

[Illustration: PRETTY BESSIE RECEIVING HER FATHER'S BLESSING WHEN

GOING TO SEEK HER OWN LIVELIHOOD.]

[Illustration: BESSIE AND THE KNIGHT GOING TO SEE HER FATHER.]

[Illustration: The HISTORY of The Two Children in the WOOD.]

_The most Lamentable and Deplorable_

HISTORY

OF THE

TWO CHILDREN IN THE WOOD:

CONTAINING

The happy Loves and Lives of their Parents, the Treachery and

barbarous Villany of their Unkle, the duel between the Murdering

Ruffians, and the unhappy and deplorable death of the two innocent

Children.

As also an Account of the Justice of God that overtook the Unnatural

Unkle; and of the deserved Death of the two murdering Ruffians.

TO WHICH IS ANNEX'D

THE OLD SONG UPON THE SAME

LONDON: PRINTED BY AND FOR W.O., AND SOLD BY THE BOOKSELLERS.