Archbishop Abbot's own Narrative.
[Rushworth. Historical Collections, idem.]
Pars Prima.
It is an example, so without example, that in the sunshine of the Gospel; in the midst of profession of the true religion; under a gracious King, whom all the world must acknowledge to be blemished with no vice; a man of my place and years, who has done some service in the Church and Commonwealth, so deeply laden with some furious infirmities of body, should be removed from his ordinary habitation, and, by a kind of deportation, should be thrust into one end of the Island (although I must confess into his own diocese), that I hold it fit that the reason of it should be truly understood, lest it may someways turn to the scandal of my person and calling. Which Declaration, notwithstanding, I intend not to communicate to any, but to let it lie by me privately; that it being set down impartially, whilst all things are fresh in memory, I may have recourse to it hereafter, if questions shall be made of anything contained in this Relation.
And this I hold necessary to be done, by reason of the strangeness of that, which, by way of Censure, was inflicted upon me; being then of the age of sixty-five years, encumbered with the gout, and afflicted with the stone: having lived so many years in a Place of great service, and, for ought I know, untainted in any of my actions; although my Master, King James (who resteth with GOD) had both a searching wit of his own to discover his servants, whom he put in trust, whether they took any sinister courses or not; and wanted not some suggesters about him, to make the worst of all men's actions whom they could misreport.
Yet this innocency and good fame to be overthrown in a month! and a Christian Bishop suddenly to be made fabula vulgi, to be tossed upon the tongues of friends and foes, of Protestants and Papists, of Court and Country, of English and Foreigners, must needs, in common opinion, presuppose some crime, open or secret; which, being discovered by the King, albeit not fully appearing to the world, must draw on indignation in so high a measure.
I cannot deny that the indisposition of my body kept me from Court, and thereby gave occasion to maligners to traduce me, as, "withdrawing myself from public services, and therefore misliking some courses that were taken": which abstaining, perhaps, neither pleased the King, nor the Great Man that set them on foot.
It is true, that in the turbulency of some things, I had not great invitements to draw me abroad; but to possess my soul in patience till GOD sent fairer weather. But the true ground for my abstaining from solemn and public places, was the weakness of my feet, proceeding from the gout: which disease being hereditary unto me, and having possessed me now nine years, had debilitated me more and more; so that I could not stand at all, neither could I go up or down a pair of stairs but, besides my staff, I must have the service of one at least, of my men, who were not fit to be admitted in every place where I was to come.
And although I was oft remembered by the wisest of my friends, that "I might be carried, as the old Lord Treasurer Burleigh was!" yet I did not think my service so necessary for the commonwealth, as his Lordship's, by long experience, was found to be. I did not value myself at so high a rate; but remembered that it was not the least cause of overthrow to Robert [Devereux], Earl of Essex, that he prized himself so, as if Queen Elizabeth and the Kingdom could not well have stood, if he had not supported both the one and the other.
Now for me, thus enfeebled, not with gout only, but with the stone and gravel, to wait on the King or the Council Table, was, by me, held a matter most inconvenient. In the Courts of Princes, there is little feeling of [for] the infirmities belonging to old age. They like them that be young and gallant in their actions, and in their clothes. They love not that men should stick too long in any room of greatness. Change and alteration bringeth somewhat with it; what have they to do with kerchiefs and staves, with lame or sickly men? It is certainly true, there is little compassion upon the bodily defects of any. The Scripture speaketh of "men standing before Kings." It were an uncouth sight to see the subject sit the day before the Coronation: when, on the morrow, I had work enough for the strongest man in England, being weak in my feet, and coming to Whitehall to see things in readiness against the next day. Yet, notwithstanding the stone and gout, I was not altogether an inutile servant in the King's affairs; but did all things in my house that were to be done: as in keeping the High Commission Court, doing all inferior actions conducing thereto; and despatching references from His Majesty that came thick upon me.
These Relations which are made concerning me, be of certain truth; but reach not to the reason I was discarded.
To understand therefore the verity, so it is, that the Duke of Buckingham (being still great in the favour of the King; could endure no man that would not depend upon him) among other men, had me in his eye, for not stooping unto him, so as to become his vassal.
I (that had learned a lesson, which I constantly hold, To be no man's servant, but the King's: for mine old royal Master which is with GOD, and mine own reason did teach me so) went on mine own ways; although I could not but observe, that as many as walked in that path did suffer for it upon all occasions, and so did I: nothing wherein I moved my Master taking place; which, finding so clearly (as if the Duke had set some ill character upon me), I had no way but to rest in patience; leaving all to GOD, and looking to myself as warily as I might. But this did not serve the turn; his undertakings were so extraordinary, that every one that was not with him, was presently [instantly] against him: and if a hard opinion were once entertained, there was no place left for satisfaction or reconciliation. What befell the Earl of Arundel, Sir Randal Carew, and divers others, I need not to report; and no man can make doubt but he blew the coals.
For myself, there is a gentleman called Sir H. S., who gave the first light what should befall me.
This Knight, being of more livelihood than wisdom, had married the Lady D., sister of the now Earl of E.; and had so treated her, both for safeguard of her honour, blemished by him scandalously; and for her alimony or maintenance, being glad to get from him; she was forced to endure a suit in the High Commission Court.
So to strengthen his party, he was made known to the Duke; and, by means of a dependent on his Grace, he got a letter from the King, that "The Commissioners should proceed no further in hearing of that cause; by reason that it being a difference between a Gentleman and his Wife, the King's Majesty would hear it himself." The solicitor for the lady, finding that the course of Justice was stopped, did so earnestly, by petition, move the King, that, by another letter, there was a relaxation of the former restraint, and the Commissioners Ecclesiastical went on.
But now, in the new proceeding, finding himself by justice like[ly] enough to be pinched; he did publicly in the Court, refuse to speak by any Counsel, but would plead his cause himself: wherein he did bear the whole business so disorderly and tumultuously, and unrespectively [disrespectfully], that, after divers reproofs, I was enforced, for the honour of the Court and the reputation of the High Commission, to tell him openly that "If he did not carry himself in a better fashion, I would commit him to prison!"
This so troubled the young gallant, that, within few days after, being at dinner or supper (where some wished me well), he bolted it out that "As for the Archbishop, the Duke had a purpose to turn him out of his Place, and that he did but wait the occasion to effect it." Which being brought unto me, constantly, by more ways than one; I was now in expectation, what must be the issue of this Great Man's indignation; which fell out to be, as followeth.
There was one Sibthorp, who, not being so much as a Bachelor of Arts (as it hath been credibly reported unto me), by means of Doctor Peirce, Dean of Peterborough (being Vice Chancellor of Oxford), did get to be confirmed upon him, the title of a Doctor.
This man is Vicar of Brackley, in Northamptonshire; and hath another benefice not far from it, in Buckinghamshire: but the lustre of his honour did arise from being the son-in-law of Sir John Lamb, Chancellor of Peterborough, whose daughter he married; and was put into the Commission of Peace.
When the Lent Assizes were, in February last [1627], at Northampton, the man that preached [on the 22nd of the month] before the Judges there, was this worthy Doctor: where, magnifying the authority of Kings (which is so strong in the Scripture, that it needs no flattery any ways to extol it), he let fall divers speeches which were distasteful to the auditors, and namely, "That Kings had power to put poll money upon their subjects' heads": when, against those challenges, men did frequently mourn.
He, being a man of low fortune, conceived that the putting his sermon [entitled "Apostolical Obedience"] in print, might gain favour at Court and raise his fortune higher, on he goeth with the transcribing of his sermon; and got a bishop or two to prefer this great service to the Duke. It being brought unto the Duke, it cometh in his head, or was suggested to him by some malicious body, that, thereby, the Archbishop might be put to some remarkable strait. For if the King should send the sermon unto him, and command him to allow it to the press, one of these two things would follow: that, either he should authorise it, and so, all men that were indifferent should discover him for a base and unworthy beast; or he should refuse it, and so should fall into the King's indignation, who might pursue it at his pleasure as against a man that was contrary to his service.
Out of this fountain flowed all the water that afterwards so wet. In rehearsing whereof, I must set down divers particulars; which some man may wonder how they should be discovered unto me: but let it suffice, once for all, that in the word of an honest man and a Bishop, I recount nothing but whereof I have good warrant; GOD Himself working means.
The matters were revealed unto me, although it be not convenient that, in this Paper, I name the manner how they came unto me; lest such as did, by well doing, farther me, should receive blame for their labour.
Well, resolved it is, that "I be put to it! and that, with speed!" and therefore Master William Murray (nephew as, I think, unto Master Thomas Murray, sometimes Tutor to Prince Charles), now of the King's Bedchamber, is sent to me with the written Sermon: of whom, I must say, that albeit he did the King his Master's service; yet he did use himself temperately and civilly unto me.
For avoiding of inquit and inquam, as Tully saith, I said this and he said that, I will make it by way of dialogue: not setting down every day's conference exactly by itself, but mentioning all things in the whole; yet distinguishing of times where, for the truth of the Relation, it cannot be avoided.
Murray. My Lord! I am sent unto you by the King, to let you know that his pleasure is, That whereas there is brought unto him, a Sermon to be printed: you should allow this Sermon to the press.
Archbishop. I was never he that authorised books to be printed: for it is the work of my Chaplains to read over other men's writings, and what is fit, to let it go; what is unfit, to expunge it.
Murray. But the King will have you yourself to do this, because he is minded that no books shall be allowed, but by you and the Bishop of London [then George Montaigne]: and my Lord of London authorised one the other day, Cosens's book; and he will have you do this.
Archbishop. This is an occupation that my old Master, King James, did never put me to; and yet I was then young, and had more abilities of body than I now have: so that I see I must now learn a new lesson. But leave it with me! and when I have read it, I shall know what to say unto it. A day or two hence, you shall understand my mind.
When I had once or twice perused it; I found some words which seemed to me to cross that which the King intended, and, in a sort, to destroy it; and therefore upon his return a day or two after, I expressed myself thus:
Master Murray! I conceive that the King intended that this Sermon shall promote the service now in hand about the Loan of Money: but in my opinion he much crosseth it. For he layeth it down for a rule (and because it should not be forgotten, he repeateth it again) that Christians are bound in duty one to another, especially all subjects to their Princes, according to the Laws and Customs of the Kingdom wherein they live. Out of this, will men except this Loan; because there is neither Law nor Custom for it, in the Kingdom of England.
Secondly. In my judgement, there followeth a dangerous speech, Habemus necessitatem vindicanda libertatis. (For this was all that was then quoted out of Calvin, no mention being made of any of the other words which are, now, in the printed copy.) For when, by the former rule he hath set men at liberty whether they will pay or not; he imposeth upon them a necessity to vindicate this liberty; and vindicare may be extended to challenge with violence, cum vi. But, for my part, I would be most unwilling to give occasion to Sedition and Mutiny in the kingdom!
Again, here is mention made of Poll Money; which, as I have heard, hath already caused much distaste where the Sermon was preached.
Moreover, what a speech is this? That he observes the forwardness of the Papists to offer double according to an Act of Parliament so providing; yea, to profess that they would part with the half of their goods: where he quoteth in the margent, Anno I. Caroli, the Act for the Subsidy of the Laity, whereby Popish Recusants were to pay double; when indeed there is no such Act!
And in the fifth place, it is said in this Sermon, that the Princes of Bohemia have power to depose their Kings, as not being hereditary. Which is a great question: such a one as hath cost much blood; and must not in a word be absolutely defined here, as if it were without controversy.
I pray you, make His Majesty acquainted with these things! and take the book with you!
Where it is to be noted, that, all this time, we had but one single copy [manuscript]; which was sometimes at the Court, and sometimes left with me.
Murray. I will faithfully deliver these things to the King, and then you shall hear further from me!
Some two or three days after, he returneth again unto me, and telleth me, That he had particularly acquainted the King with my objections; and His Majesty made this answer.
First. For the Laws and Customs of the Kingdom, he did not stand upon that. He had a precedent for that which he did, and thereon he would insist.
Archbishop. I think that to be a mistaking; for I fear there will be found no such precedent. King Henry VIII., as the Chronicle sheweth, desired but a Sixth Part of men's estates, Ten Groats in the Pound: our King desireth the whole six parts, full out; so much as men are set at in the Subsidy Book. And in the time of King Henry, although he were a powerful King; yet, for that taxation, there began against him little less than a rebellion; so that he held it wisdom to desist; and, laying the blame upon Cardinal Wolsey, professed that "he knew nothing of the matter."
Murray. Secondly. The King saith for the words, Habemus necessitatem vindicanda libertatis; he taketh them to be for him, and he will stand upon his liberty.
Thirdly. For Poll Money, he thinketh it lawful.
Fourthly. It is true, there was no such Act passed; and therefore it must be amended. (And yet in the printed book, it is suffered still to stand! Such slight, and, I may say, slovenly care was had, by them that published this Sermon.)
And fifthly. For that of Bohemia: he hath crossed it out of the book.
Some other matters there were, against which I took exception; but Master Murray being a young gentleman, although witty and full of good behaviour: I doubted that, being not deeply seen in Divinity, he could not so well conceive me or make report of my words to His Majesty: and therefore I, being lame and so disabled to wait on the King, did move him, that "He would, in my name, humbly beseech His Majesty to send [William Laud, then] the Bishop of Bath and Wells unto me; and I would, by his means, make known my scruples." And so I dismissed Master Murray; observing with myself, that the Answers to my five Objections especially to two or three [of them], were somewhat strange; as if the King were resolved (were it to his good, or to his harm) to have the book go forth.
After one or two days more, the young Gentleman cometh to me again, and telleth me, that "The King did not think it fit to send the Bishop of Bath unto me; but that expecteth I should pass the book."
In the meantime, had gone over one High Commission day; and this Bishop (who used otherwise on very few days, to fail) was not there: which being joined to His Majesty's message, made me, in some measure to smell that this whole business might have that Bishop's hand in it; especially I knowing in general, the disposition of the man.
The minds of those that were Actors for the publishing of the book, were not quiet at the Court, that the thing was not despatched. Therefore, one day, the Duke said to the King, "Do you see how this business is deferred! If more expedition be not used, it will not be printed before the end of the Term: at which time, it is fit that it be sent down into the countreys [counties]." So eager was he, that either by my credit, his undertakings might be strengthened; or at least, I might be contemned and derided, as an unworthy fellow.
This so quickened the King, that the next message which was sent by Master Murray, was in some degree minatory, "That if I did not despatch it, the King would take some other course with me!"
When I found how far the Duke had prevailed; I thought it my best way, to set down in writing, many objections, wherefore the book was not fit to be published: which I did modestly, and sent them to the King.
1. (Page 2.) These words deserve to be well weighed, And whereas the Prince pleads not the Power of Prerogative.
2. (Page 8.) The King's duty is first to direct and make Laws. There is no law made till the King assent unto it; but if it be put simply to make Laws, it will make much startling at it.
3. (Page 10.) If nothing may excuse from Active Obedience, but what is against the Law of GOD, or of Nature, or impossible; how doth this agree with the first fundamental position: (Page 5.) That all subjects are bound to all their Princes, according to the Laws and Customs of the Kingdom wherein they live.
4. (Page 11.) This is a fourth Case of Exception. The Poll Money, mentioned by him in Saint Matthew, was imposed by the Emperor as a Conqueror over the Jews: and the execution of it in England, although it was by a Law, produced a terrible effect in King Richard II.'s time; when only it was used, for ought that appeareth.
5. (Page 12.) It is, in the bottom, View of the reign of Henry III.; and whether it be fit to give such allowance to the book; being surreptitiously put out?
6. (In the same page.) Let the largeness of those words be well considered! Yea, all Antiquity to be absolutely for Absolute Obedience to Princes, in all Civil and Temporal things. For such cases as Naboth's Vineyard, may fall within this.
7. (Page 14.) Sixtus V. was dead before 1580.
8. (In the same page.) Weigh it well, How this Loan may be called a Tribute! and when it is said, We are promised, it shall not be immoderately imposed, how agreeth that, with His Majesty's Commission and Proclamation, which are quoted in the margent?
It should seem that this paper did prick to the quick; and no satisfaction being thereby accepted, Bishop laud is called, and he must go to answer to it in writing.
This man is the only inward [intimate] counsellor with Buckingham: sitting with him, sometimes, privately whole hours; and feeding his humour with malice and spite.
His life in Oxford was to pick quarrels in the Lectures of the Public Readers, and to advertise [denounce] them to the then Bishop of Durham [? T. Matthew, or his successor, W. James], that he might fill the ears of King James with discontents against the honest men that took pains in their Places, and settled the truth (that he called Puritanism) in their auditors.
He made it his work, to see what books were in the press; and to look over Epistles Dedicatory, and Prefaces to the Reader, to see what faults might be found.
It was an observation what a sweet man this was like[ly] to be, that the first observable act that he did, was the marrying of the Earl of D[evonshire] to the Lady R[ich] [See Vol. I. p. 483]: when it was notorious to the world, that she had another husband, and the same a nobleman, who had divers children then living by her.
King James did, for many years, take this so ill, that he would never hear of any great preferment of him: insomuch that Doctor Williams, the Bishop of Lincoln (who taketh upon him, to be the first promoter of him) hath many times said "That when he made mention of Laud to the King, His Majesty was so averse from it, that he was constrained oftentimes to say that 'He would never desire to serve that Master, which could not remit one fault unto his servant.'"
Well, in the end, he did conquer it, to get him [on the 10th October, 1621] the Bishopric of St. Davids: which he had not long enjoyed; but he began to undermine his benefactor, as, at this day, it appeareth.
The Countess of Buckingham told Lincoln, that "St. Davids was the man that undermined him with her son." And, verily, such is his aspiring nature, that he will under-work any man in the world! so that he may gain by it.
This man, who believeth so well of himself, framed an Answer to my Exceptions.
But to give some countenance to it; he must call in three other Bishops, that is to say, Durham, Rochester, and Oxford, tried men for such a purpose! and the style of the Speech runneth, "We, and We." This seemed so strong a Confutation, that, for reward of their service, as well as for hope that they would do more, Doctor Neyle, Bishop of Durham, and the Bishop of Bath, were sworn of the Privy Council.
The very day, being Sunday, Master Murray was sent unto me, with a writing: but finding me all in a sweat, by a fit of the stone which was then upon me, he forbore, for that time, to trouble me, and said, "That on the morrow, he would repair to me again."
I got me to bed, and lying all that night in pain; I held it convenient not to rise the next day.
And on the Monday, Master Murray came unto me; which was the eighth time that he had been with me, so incessantly was I plied with this noble work.
I had shewed it [the Apostolical Obedience] to a friend or two: whereof the one was a learned Doctor of Divinity; and the other had served many times in Parliament with great commendation. We all agreed that it was an idle work of a man that understood not Logic, that evidently crossed [contradicted] himself, that sometimes spake plausibly; and, in the end of his Sermon, [it] fell so poor and flat, that it was not worth the reading.
Master Murray coming to my bedside, said, "That he was sent again by the King, and had a paper to be shewed unto me."
Archbishop. You see in what case I am, having slept little all this last night; but nevertheless since you come from the King, I will take my spectacles, and read it.
Murray. No, my Lord! You may not read it, nor handle it; for I have charge not to suffer it to go out of my hands.
Archbishop. How then, shall I know what it is?
Murray. Yes, I have order to read it unto you! but I may not part with it.
Archbishop. I must conceive, that if I do not assent to it, His Majesty will give me leave to reply upon it; which I cannot do, but in my study, for there are my books.
Murray. I must go with you into your study; and sit by you, till you have done.
Archbishop. It is not so hasty a work. It will require time; and I have not been used to study, one sitting by me. But first read it, I pray you!
The young gentleman read it from the one end to the other; being two or three sheets of paper.
Archbishop. This Answer is very bitter; but giveth me no satisfaction. I pray you leave the writing with me; and I shall batter it to pieces.
Murray. No, my Lord! I am forbidden to leave it with you, or to suffer you to touch it.
Archbishop. How cometh this about? Are the authors of it afraid of it, or ashamed of it? I pray you tell His Majesty that I am dealt with neither manly, nor scholar like. Not manly, because I must fight with adversaries that I know not: not scholar like, because I must not see what it is that must confute me. It is now eight and forty years ago [i.e., in 1579], that I came to the University; and, since that time, I have ever loved a learned man. I have disputed and written divers books, and know very well what appertaineth to the Schools.
This is a new kind of learning unto me. I have formerly found fault, that the author of this Sermon quoteth not the places, whereupon he grounds his doctrine: and when I have oft called for them, it is replied to me that "I must take them upon the credit of the Writer," which I dare not do. For I have searched but one place, which he quoted in general, but sets down neither the words, nor the treatise, nor the chapter; and I find nothing to the purpose for which it is quoted: and therefore I have reason to suspect all the rest.
I pray you, therefore, in the humblest manner, to commend my service to the King my Master, and let him know that, unless I may have all the quotations set down, that I may examine them: and may have that Writing, wherein I am so ill used: I cannot allow the book!
Before I go further, it shall not be amiss to touch some particulars of that which I sent in writing to the King.
The First was Page 2. These words deserve to be well weighed. And whereas the Prince pleads not the power of Prerogative.
To this, Master Murray said, "The King doth not plead it."
But my reply was, "But what then, doth he coerce those refractories? for I have not heard of any Law, whereby they are imprisoned; and therefore I must take it to be by the King's Prerogative."
To the Second (Page 8). The King's duty is first to direct and make Laws. There is no Law made till the King assent unto it; but if it be put simply to make Laws, it will cause much startling at it.
To this I remember not any material thing was answered; neither to the Third.
(Page 10.) If nothing may excuse from Active Obedience, but what is against the Law of GOD, or of Nature, or impossible; how doth this agree with the first fundamental position: (Page 5.) That all subjects are bound to all their Princes, according to the Laws and Customs of the kingdom wherein they live.
This is a fourth case of Exception.
And here, before I go to the rest, the Doctor did truly hit upon a good point, in looking to the Laws and Customs, if he could have kept him to it.
For in my memory, and in the remembrance of many Lords and others that now live, Doctor Harsenet, the then Bishop of Chichester, and now of Norwich, in Parliament time, preached at Whitehall, a sermon (which was afterwards burned) upon the text, Give unto Cæsar, the things that be Cæsar's! wherein he insisted that "Goods and Money were Cæsar's; and therefore they were not to be denied unto him."
At this time, when the whole Parliament took main offence thereat, King James was constrained to call the Lords and Commons into the Banquetting House at Whitehall: and there His Majesty called all, by saying "The Bishop only failed in this, when he said The goods were Cæsar's, he did not add They were his, according to the Laws and Customs of the Country wherein they did live."
So moderate was our Cæsar then, as I myself saw and heard, being then an Eye and Ear Witness: for I was then Bishop of London.
To the Fourth. The Poll Money, in Saint Matthew, was imposed by the Emperor, as a Conqueror over the Jews: and the execution of it in England, although it was by a Law, produced a terrible effect in Richard II.'s time; when only it was used, for ought that appeareth.
Here the Bishop, in the Paper, excepted divers things "That sometimes among us, by Act of Parliament, strangers are appointed to pay by the poll:" which agreeth not with the Case: and that "It was not well to bring examples out of weak times; whereas we live in better: but it was a marvellous fault, the blame was not laid upon the rebels of that Age."
Those are such poor things, that they are not worth the answering.
But my Objection, in truth, prevailed so far, that in the printed book, it was qualified thus: Poll money, other persons, and upon some occasions.
Where, obiter, I may observe that my refusing to sign the Sermon, is not to be judged by the printed book: for many things are altered in one, which were in the other.
To the Fifth (Page 12). It is in the bottom, View of the reign of Henry III., whether it be fit to give such allowance to the book; being surreptitiously put out?
To this, it was said, "That being a good passage out of a blameworthy book, there was no harm in it."
But before the question of Sibthorp's treatise; the Bishop of Bath himself, being with me, found much fault with that Treatise, as being put out for a scandalous Parallel of those times.
To the Sixth, in the same page. Let the largeness of those words be well considered! Yea, all Antiquity to be absolutely for Absolute Obedience to Princes, in all Civil and Temporal Things. For such cases as Naboth's Vineyard may fall within this.
Here the Bishop was as a man in a rage, and said, "That it was an odious comparison! for it must suppose, that there must be an Ahab, and there must be a Jezebel, and I cannot tell what!"
But I am sure my Exception standeth true; and reviling and railing doth not satisfy my argument. All Antiquity taketh the Scripture into it: and if I had allowed that proportion for good, I had been justly beaten with my own rod.
If the King, the next day, had commanded me to send him all the money and goods I had; I must, by mine own rule, have obeyed him! and if he had commanded the like to all the clergymen in England, by Doctor Sibthorp's proportion and my Lord of Canterbury's allowing of the same; they must have sent in all! and left their wives and children in a miserable case.
Yea, the words extend so far, and are so absolutely delivered, that by this Divinity, if the King should send to the city of London, and the inhabitants thereof, commanding them "to give unto him all the wealth which they have," they are bound to do it!
I know our King is so gracious, that he will attempt no such matter: but if he do it not, the defect is not in these flattering Divines! who, if they were called to question for such doctrine, they would scarce be able to abide it.
There is a Meum and a Tuum in Christian commonwealths, and according to Laws and Customs, Princes may dispose of it. That saying being true, Ad reges, potestas omnium pertinet, ad singulos, proprietas.
To the Seventh (p. [14].), Pius V. was dead before the year 1580; they make no reply, but mend it in the printed book; changing it into Gregory XIII.
To the last (on the same page). Weigh it well! How this Loan may be called a Tribute; and when it is said, We are promised it shall not be immoderately imposed. How that agreeth with His Majesty's Commission and Proclamation, which are quoted in the margent?
They make no answer but in the published Sermon, distinguish a Tribute from a Loan or Aid: whereby they acknowledge it was not well before, and indeed it was improper and absurd: worthy of none but Doctor Sibthorp.
I have now delivered the grounds, whereupon I refused to authorise this book: being sorry at my heart, that the King, my gracious Master, should rest so great a building upon so weak a foundation; the Treatise being so slender, and without substance, but that it proceeded from a hungry man.
If I had been in Council, when the Project for this Loan was first handled, I would have used my best reasons to have had it well grounded; but I was absent, and knew not whereupon they proceeded: only I saw, it was followed with much vehemency. And since it was put in execution, I did not interpose myself to know the grounds of one, nor of the other.
It seemed therefore strange unto me, that, in the upshot of the business, I was called in, to make that good by Divinity, which others had done; and must have no other inducement to it, but Doctor Sibthorp's contemptible treatise!
I imagined this, for the manner of the carriage of it, to be somewhat like unto the Earl of Somerset's case; who having abused the wife of the Earl of Essex, must have her divorced from her husband, and must himself marry her. And this must not be done; but that the Archbishop of Canterbury must ratify all, judicially!
I know the cases are different; but I only compare the manner of the carriage.
When the approbation of the Sermon was by me refused, it was carried to the Bishop of London, who gave a great and stately allowance of it [It was entered at Stationers' Hall, under his authority, on the 3rd May, 1627]: the good man being not willing that anything should stick which was sent unto him from the Court; as appeareth by the book which is commonly called The Seven Sacraments, which was allowed by his Lordship, with all the errors! which since that time have been expunged and taken out of it.
But before this passed the Bishop's file, there is one accident which fitly cometh in to be recounted in this place.
My Lord of London hath a Chaplain, Doctor Worral by name; who is scholar good enough, but a kind of free fellow like man, and of no very tender conscience.
Doctor Sibthorp's Sermon was brought unto him; and "hand over head" as the proverb is, he approved it, and subscribed his name unto it: but afterwards, being better advised, he sendeth it to a learned gentleman of the Inner Temple; and writing some few lines unto him, craveth his opinion of that which he had done.
The Gentleman read it; but although he had promised to return his judgement by letter, yet he refused so to do: but desired Doctor Worral would come himself. Which being done, he spake to this purpose, "What have you done? You have allowed a strange book yonder! which, if it be true, there is no Meum or Tuum! no man in England hath anything of his own! If ever the tide turns, and matters be called to a reckoning; you will be hanged for publishing such a book!"
To which, the Doctor answered, "Yea, but my hand is to it! What shall I do?"
For that, the other replied, "You must scrape out your name! and do not suffer so much as the sign of any letter to remain in the paper!"
Which, accordingly he did; and withdrew his finger from the pie.
But what the Chaplain, well advised, would not do; his Lord, without sticking, accomplished: and so, being unsensibly hatched, it came flying into the world!
But in my opinion, the book hath persuaded very few understanding men; and hath not gained the King, sixpence.
Pars Secunda.
Hitherto, I have declared, at length, all passages concerning the Sermon; and, to my remembrance, I have not quitted anything that was worthy the knowing. I am now, in the second place, to shew what was the issue of this not allowing the worthy and learned Treatise.
In the height of this question, I privately understood from a friend in the Court, that "for a punishment upon me, it was resolved that I should be sent to Canterbury, and confined there." I kept this silently, and expected GOD's pleasure, yet laying it up still in my mind: esteeming the Duke to be of the number of them, touching whom, Tacitus observeth, that such as are false in their love, are true in their hate! But whatsoever the event must be, I made use of the report, that jacula prœvisa minus feriunt.
The Duke, at the first, was earnest with the King, that I must be presently sent away before his going to sea [He left Portsmouth, on the Rochelle Expedition, on the 27th June]. "For," saith he, "if I were gone, he would be every day at Whitehall, and at the Council table! and there, will cross all things that I have intended."
To meet with this objection, I got me away to Croydon, a month sooner than, in ordinary years, I have used to do; but the Term was ended early, and my main [strong] fit of the stone did call upon me to get me to the country, that there on horseback, I might ride on the downs: which I afterwards performed, and, I thank GOD! found great use of it in recovering of my stomach, which was almost utterly gone.
The Duke hastened his preparations for the fleet: but still that cometh in for one memorandum, "That if he were once absent, there should no day pass over but that the Archbishop would be with the King, and infuse things that would be contrary to his proceedings."
What a miserable and restless thing ambition is! When one talented, but as a common person; yet by the favour of his Prince, hath gotten that Interest, that, in a sort, all the Keys of England hang at his girdle (which the wise Queen Elizabeth would never endure in any subject); yet standeth in his own heart, in such tickle terms, as that he feareth every shadow, and thinketh that the lending of the King's ear unto any grave and well seasoned report, may blow him out of all! which in his estimation, he thinketh is settled on no good foundation, but the affection of the Prince; which may be mutable, as it is in all men, more or less. If a man would wish harm unto his enemy; could he wish him a greater torment, than to be wrested and wringed with ambitious thoughts!
Well, at first, it went current, that "with all haste, I must be doffed!" but, upon later consideration, "it must be stayed till the Duke be at sea, and then put in execution by the King himself; that, as it seemeth, Buckingham might be free from blame, if any should be laid upon any person."
Hence it was, that, after his going, there was a new prosecution of the Yorkshire men; and the refusing Londoners were pursued more fervently than before: and it is very likely that the arrow came out of the same quiver, that the Bishop coming to the election at Westminster, was driven back so suddenly to Bugden.
Take heed of these things, noble Duke! You put your King to the worst parts! whereof you may hear, one day! So when your Sovereign, in the Parliament time, had spoken sharply to both Houses, commanding them "To go together again, and to give more money!" and commanding them to "meddle no more with the Duke of Buckingham!" you came, the next day, and thought to smooth all, taking the glory of qualifying disturbances to yourself! Whereas, if you read books of true State Government (wherewithal you are not acquainted!), sweet things are personally to be acted by Kings and Princes, as giving of honours, and bestowing of noted benefits; and those things that are sour and distasting, are to be performed by their Ministers. You go the contrary way!
But as before the whole house falleth on fire, some sparks do fly out; so, before the message of the King was brought by the Secretary [of State], there were some inklings that such a thing would follow. And upon the naming of me, by occasion [incidentally], it was said by a creature of the Duke, that "It would not be long, before the Archbishop should be sequestered!" that was the word. So well acquainted are the Duke's followers, with great actions that are likely to fall out in State.
Accordingly on Tuesday, the 5th of July, 1627, the Lord Conway [Secretary of State] came to me to Croydon, before dinner-time; "having travelled," as he said, "a long journey that morning, even from Oatlands thither."
He would say nothing till he had dined. Then, because he was to return to Oatlands that night, I took him into the gallery: and when we were both sat down, we fell to it, in this manner.
My Lord! I know you, coming from Court, have somewhat to say to me.
Secretary. It is true, My Lord! and I am the most unwilling man in the world, to bring unpleasing news to any Person of Quality, to whom I wish well; and especially to such a one, as of whose meat I have eaten, and been merry at his house: but I come from the King, and must deliver his pleasure (I know who you are! and much more) with very civil language.
Archbishop. I doubt not, my Lord! but you have somewhat to say; and therefore, I pray you, in plain terms, let me have it!
Secretary. It is then His Majesty's pleasure, that you should withdraw yourself unto Canterbury! for which, he will afford you some convenient time.
Archbishop. Is that it! Then I must use the words of the Psalmist, "He shall not be afraid of any evil tidings; for his heart standeth fast, and believeth in the LORD!" But, I pray you, what is my fault that bringeth this upon me?
Secretary. The King saith, you know!
Archbishop. Truly, I know none, unless it be that I am lame; which I cannot help. It is against my will, and I am not proud of it.
Secretary. The King bade me tell you, "That if any expostulation were used"——
Archbishop. No, I will not use any expostulation! If it be his pleasure, I will obey. I know myself to be an honest man, and therefore fear nothing; but, my Lord! do you think it is for the King's service, in this sort, to send me away?
Secretary. No, by GOD! I do not think it: and so, yesterday, I told the King with an oath; but he will have it so.
Archbishop. I must say, as before, "He shall not be afraid of any evil tidings; for his heart standeth fast, and he believeth in the LORD!" But, I pray you, my Lord! is the King precisely set upon my going to Canterbury. There are questions in law between me and that town, about the liberties of my Archbishopric; which I, by my oath, am bound to maintain: and if I should be among them, I have many adversaries of the citizens. I have there some tenants, and the Dean and Chapter are interested in the question. I would be unwilling that my servants and their people should fall together by the ears, while I am in the town.
His Majesty knoweth this difference to be between us, by the token that a suit, which I lately brought against them, by a Quo Warranto in the King's Bench, was stopped: justice being denied me, which is not usual to be denied to any subject; and the King well knoweth, by whose means it was stayed.
I have therefore another house called Foord, five miles beyond Canterbury, and more out of the way. His Majesty may be pleased to let me go thither.
Secretary. I can say nothing to that, but I will acquaint the King with it; and I conceive nothing to the contrary, but that His Majesty will yield so much unto you.
I have a second Charge to deliver unto you, and that is that "His Majesty will not have you, from henceforth, to meddle with the High Commission. He will take care that it shall be done otherwise."
Archbishop. I do not doubt but it shall be better managed than it hath been by me: and yet, my Lord! I will tell you, that, for these many years that I have had the direction of that Court, the time is to come, that ever honest man did find fault that he had not there justice done.
Secretary. It is now Vacation time, and so consequently little to do; and by Michaelmas, His Majesty may set all in order.
Archbishop. I am sorry the King proceedeth thus with me, and letteth me not know the cause.
Secretary. Although I have no commission to tell you so. It is for a book which you would not allow, which concerned the King's service.
Archbishop. If that be it; when I am questioned for it, I doubt not but to give an honest answer.
Secretary. You will never be questioned for it!
Archbishop. Then am I the more hardly dealt withal; to be Censured, and not called to my answer.
Secretary. Well, my Lord! I will remember that of Foord: and will your Grace command me any more service?
Archbishop. No, my Lord! but GOD be with you! Only I end where I began, with the words of the Prophet, "He shall not be afraid for any evil tidings; for his heart standeth fast, and believeth in the LORD!"
It comforted me not a little, that the word was now out: "My confining must be, for not allowing of a book!" I had much ado to forbear smiling when I heard it: because now it was clear, it was not for felony or treason that was laid to my charge, nor for intelligence with the Spaniards or French, nor for correspondency [correspondence] with Jesuits and Seminary Priests; I thank GOD for that!
I had almost forgotten that, among many other memorable speeches that passed between us, I used this one, that "Peradventure, the King might be offended at me, because I was no more present at the matter of the Loan; but," said I, "my lameness hindered me therein; and I hoped thereby to do my Master better service. Because if ever course were taken to reconcile the King and his people (which if it be not, this Kingdom will rue it in the end!), I would hope, among many others, to be a good instrument therein, since my hand hath not been in those bitternesses, which have, of late, fallen out."
"You say well!" said the Secretary; "would you that I should tell the King so much?"
"Yea," said I, "if you please, I hold it not unfit that His Majesty should know it."
What he reported therein, I know not: but matters proceeded in the former course, as if there were no regard had of any such thing.
The Lord Conway being gone from me for two or three days; I expected to hear the resolution [as] to what place in Kent, I should betake myself. And receiving no news, I tossed many things in my mind, as perhaps that the King desired to hear somewhat from the Duke, how he sped on his journey [expedition]; or that peradventure he might alter his purpose, upon report of my ready obeying; or that it might so fall out, that some of the Lords at the Court, understanding, upon the Secretary's return from Croydon, that which was formerly concealed from them, might infuse some other counsels into the King.
These thoughts I revolved. At last, not forgetting the courses of the Court, and imprinting that into my heart, that there was no good intended towards me, but that any advantage would be taken against me, I sent a man to Whitehall, whither the King was now come for a night or two, and by him, I wrote to the Lord Conway, in these words
My very good Lord,
I do not forget the message, which you brought unto me on Thursday last; and because I have heard nothing from you since that time, I send this messenger on purpose to know what is resolved touching the house or houses where I must remain. There belong to the Archbishopric, three houses in Kent: one at Canterbury; another five miles beyond, called Foord; and a third, on the side of Canterbury, but two miles off, the name whereof is Beeksburn.
I pray your Lordship to let me know His Majesty's pleasure, whether he will leave the choice of any of those houses to reside in, to me?
I have reason to know the resolution thereof: because I must make my provision of wood and coals and hay for some definite place; and when I shall have brewed, it is fit I should know where to put it, or else it will not serve the turn. It is an unseasonable time to brew now, and as untimely to cut wood (it being green in the highest degree), and to make coals; without all which, my House cannot be kept. But when I shall know what must be my habitation, I will send down my servants presently [at once] to make the best provision they can.
And so, expecting your Lordship's answer, I leave you to the Almighty, and remain,
Your Lordship's very loving friend,
G. Cant.
Croydon, July 10, 1627.
He made my servant stay: and when he had gone up to know the King's pleasure, he returned me the answer following.
May it please your Grace,
I am ashamed, and do confess my fault, that I wrote not to your Grace before I received your reproof, though a gracious one; but, in truth, I did not neglect, nor forget; but the continual oppression of business would not permit me to advertise to your Grace, the King's Answer.
His Majesty heard seriously your professions and answers, and commanded me to signify unto you that "He knew not the present differences between you and the town [i.e., of Canterbury]; and if he had, he would not have cast you into that inconvenience." He was well pleased you should go to your house at Foord; and said, "He did not expect when the question was ended between your Grace and the town, that you should go to Canterbury."
And he further said, "He would not tie you to so short a time, as might be any way inconvenient; but doth expect that your Grace will govern it so, as His Majesty shall not need to warn you a second time."
I will not fail to move His Majesty to give you liberty to choose either of the houses you name, and give you knowledge of his pleasure, and in all things be ready to obey your commandments, or take occasion to serve you in the condition of
Your Grace's
Most humble servant,
Conway.
Whitehall, July 10, 1627.
I could not but observe therein that passage, that the King doth expect your Grace will so govern it, as His Majesty shall not need to warn you a second time.
I needed no interpreter to expound those words, and therefore did take order that one of my officers was presently despatched unto Foord, to see the house ready.
While necessaries were caring for, and I lay for some days at Croydon, and afterwards at Lambeth; the city of London was filled with the report of "my confining" (for so they did term it), and divers men spake diversely of it.
I will not trouble myself to mention some idle things; but some other of them require a little consideration. A main matter, that the Duke was said "to take in ill part," was the resort which was made to my house, at the times of dinner and supper, and that, oftentimes, of such as did not love him.
My answer unto that is, That, by nature, I have been given to keep a house according to my proportion, since I have had any means, and GOD hath blessed me in it. That it is a property, by Saint Paul required in a Bishop, that "He should be given to hospitality"; that it is another of his rules, "Let your conversation be without covetousness!" and those things, I had in mine eyes. Besides I have no wife, nor child: and as for my kindred, I do that for them which I hold fit; but I will not rob the Church, nor the poor, for them!
Again, it is so rare a fault in these things, that men not feeding on the King's meat, but of their own charge, should frankly entertain their friends when they come unto them; that I deserve to be pardoned for it!
But this is not all. When King James gave me the Bishopric, he did once between him and me, and another time before the Earl of Salisbury, charge me that "I should carry my house nobly!" that was His Majesty's word, "and live like an Archbishop!" which I promised him to do. And when men came to my house, who were of all Civil sorts, I gave them friendly entertainment: not sifting what exceptions the Duke made against them; for I knew he might as undeservedly think ill of others, as he did of me. But I meddled with no man's quarrels: and if I should have received none, but such as cordially, and in truth had loved him; I might have gone to dinner many times without company!
There, frequented me Lords Spiritual and Temporal, divers Privy Councillors, as occasion served, and men of the highest rank: where, if the Duke thought that we had busied ourselves about him, he was much deceived. Yet, perhaps the old saying is true, "A man who is guilty of one evil to himself; thinketh that all men that talk together, do say somewhat of him!" I do not envy him that happiness; but let it ever attend him!
As for other men, of good sort, but of lesser quality; I have heard some by name, to whom exception has been taken: and these are three. I know from the Court by a friend, that my house, for a good space of time, hath been watched; and I marvel that they have not rather named sixty, than three.
The First of these, is Sir Dudley Digges, a very great mote in the Duke's eye, as I am informed: for it is said that this Knight hath paid him in Parliament, with many sharp speeches. If this be so, yet what is that to me? He is of age to answer for himself!
But in the time of the late Parliament, when the Earl of Carlisle came unto me, and dealt with me thereabouts; I gave him my word, and I did it truly, that I was not acquainted with these things: only, being sick as I was, I had in general given him advice that he should do nothing that might give just offence to the King. And I have credibly heard that when Sir Dudley was last in the Fleet, committed from the Council table; he was much dealt with, to know whether he was not instigated by me to accuse the Duke in Parliament: the Knight, with all the protestations and assurances that could come from a Gentleman, acquitted me of the part and whole: wherein he did me but right.
And I do remember, when that man, now so hated! was a great servant of the Duke. So that if he have now left him, it cannot but be presumed that it is for some unworthy carriage, which the Gentleman conceiveth hath, by that Lord, been offered unto him.
Moreover, how can I but imagine the words and actions of Sir Dudley Digges have been ill interpreted and reported; when I myself saw the Duke stand up nine times in a morning, in a Parliament House, to fasten upon him words little less, if at all less than treason; when by the particular votes of all the Lords and Commons in both Houses, he was quit [acquitted] of those things, which the other would have enforced upon him. And a little while before, he was hastily clapped into the Tower; and within a day or two released again, because nothing was proved against him!
And I assure you, I am so little interested in his actions, that, to this day, I could never learn the reason why he was imprisoned in the Fleet; although he was kept there for seven or eight weeks.
I distinguish the King, from the Duke of Buckingham. The one is our Sovereign, by the laws of GOD and men! the other, a subject! as we are: and if any subject do impeach another, though of different degrees; let the party grieved, remedy himself by Law, and not by Power!
But, to speak further for this Knight, I may not forget that when he was publicly employed (one time to the Hague, a second time to Muscovia, and thirdly into Ireland about Affairs of the State), such opinions as were then held of his good endeavours.
As for my own part, ever since the days of Queen Elizabeth, I have been nearly acquainted with him. He was my pupil at Oxford, and a very towardly one; and this knowledge, each of the other, hath continued unto this time. He calleth me, Father; and I term his wife, my daughter. His eldest son is my godson; and their children are in love accounted my grandchildren.
The Second that I have heard named, was Sir Francis Harrington: a Gentleman, whom for divers years, I have not seen; and who, for ought I know, was never in my house but once in his life.
The Third was Sir Thomas Wentworth [who after Felton murdered Buckingham on the 23rd August, 1628, went over to the Court, and ultimately became Earl of Strafford]; who had good occasion to send unto me, and sometimes to see me; because we were joint executors to Sir George Savile, who married his sister, and was my pupil at Oxford. To whose son also, Sir Thomas Wentworth and I were Guardians, as may appear in the Court of Wards; and many things passed between us in that behalf: yet, to my remembrance, I saw not this gentleman but once, in these three-quarters of a year last past [i.e., since October, 1626]: at which time, he came to seek his brother-in-law, the Lord Clifford, who was then with me at dinner at Lambeth.
For one of the punishments laid upon me, it was told me by the Lord Conway, that "I must meddle no more with the High Commission." Accordingly, within a few days after, a Warrant is sent to the Attorney-General, that the Commission must be renewed, and the Archbishop must be left out. This, under hand, being buzzed about the town, with no small mixture of spite; I conceived it to be agreeable to [correspond with] the proceedings with [against] the Lords and Gentlemen, who refused to contribute to the Loan: they all being laid aside in the Commissions for Lieutenancy, and of the Peace, in their several counties.
For my part, I had no cause to grieve at this, since it was His Majesty's pleasure! but it was, by the actors therein understood otherwise; they supposing that this power gave me the more authority and splendour in the Church and Commonwealth.
To deliver therefore, truly, the state of this question. It cannot be denied but that it was a great point of policy for the establishing of order in the Ecclesiastical, and consequently Civil Estate also, to erect such a Court: whereby Churchmen [clergy] that exorbitated [exceeded bounds] in any grievous manner, might be castigated and rectified; and such sort of crimes in the laity might be censured [judged] as were of Ecclesiastical Cognisance. And, verily, this is of great use in the kingdom, as well for cherishing the study of the Civil Law, as otherwise; so that it be kept incorruptible, and with that integrity as so grave a Meeting and Assembly requireth. This was principally my care; who took much pains and spent much money that, in fair and commendable sort, justice was indifferently [impartially] administered to all the King's people that had to do with us.
But every one might see that this was to my singular trouble! For besides that to keep things in a straight course, sometimes in fits of the gout I was forced to be carried into the Court by my servants; where I could not speak much, but with difficulty: I was, at no time, free from petitions; from examinations; from signing of warrants to call some, to release others; from giving way to speeding, and forwarding Acts of Court. Suitors, as their fashion is, being so importunate as that, in summer and winter, in the day and in the night, in sickness and health, they would not be denied!
These things were daily despatched by me out of Duty; and more, out of Charity; no allowance of pay being from the King, or of fee from the subject to us that were the Judges. Nay, I may say more. The holding of that Court, in such sort as I did, was very expenseful to me, out of my private purse, in giving weekly entertainment to the Commissioners. The reason whereof was this. King James being desirous, when he made me Archbishop, that all matters should gravely and honourably be carried, directed me that I should always call some of the Bishops that were about London, and some Divines and Civilians [Doctors of the Civil Law], that, by a good presence, causes might be handled for the reputation of the action: and willed me withal, to imitate therein the Lord Archbishop Whitgift, who invited weekly some of the Judges to dinner, the rather to allure them thither. This advice proceeded from [John Bridgman] the Bishop of Durham that now is; which was not ill, if it came from a good intention.
I obeyed it, singly; and did that which was enjoined. But whereas in those times, the Commissioners were but few: since that time there hath been such an inundation of all sorts of men into that Company [i.e., the High Commission], that, without proportion, both Lords Spiritual and Temporal, Commissioners and not Commissioners, resorted thither; and divers of them brought so many of their men, that it was truly a burthen to me. I think it may, by my Officers, be justified upon oath, that since I was Archbishop, the thing alone hath cost me, out of my private estate [i.e., official income as Archbishop], one and a half thousand pounds; and if I did say two thousand pounds, it were not much amiss: besides all the trouble of my servants, who, neither directly nor indirectly, gained sixpence thereby in a whole year, but only travail and pains for their Master's honour; and of that, they had enough! my houses being like a great host[el]ry every Thursday in the Term; and for my expenses, no man giving me so much as thanks!
Now this being the true case, if the Church and Commonwealth be well provided for, in the administration of justice, and regard be had of the public [welfare]; can any discreet man think that the removing of me from this molestation, is any true punishment upon me? I being one that have framed myself to Reality, and not to Opinion: and growing more and more in years, and consequently into weakness; having before surfeited so long of worldly shews, whereof nothing is truly gained temporally but vexation of spirit, I have had enough of these things, and do not dote upon them. The world, I hope, hath found me more stayed and reserved in my courses.
Nevertheless, what was expedient for this, was despatched by me while I lived at Lambeth and Croydon; albeit I went not out of door.
"Yea, but you were otherwise inutile, not coming to the Star Chamber, nor to the Council table?"
My pain or weakness by the gout, must excuse me herein. When I was younger, and had my health, I so diligently attended at the Star Chamber, that, for full seven years, I was not one day wanting.
And for the Council table, the same reason of my indisposition may satisfy. But there are many other things that do speak for me.
The greatest matters there handled, were for money, or more attempts of war.
For the one of these, we of the Clergy had done our parts already: the Clergy having put themselves into payments of Subsidy, by an Act of Parliament; not only for these last two years (when the Temporalty lay in a sort dry), but yet there are three years behind, in which our payments run on, with weight enough unto us. And no man can justly doubt but my hand was in those grants, in a principal fashion.
And concerning the Provisions for War, I must confess my ignorance in the facts thereof. I knew not the grounds whereon the controversies were entered, in general. I thought that before wars were begun, there should be store of treasure; that it was not good to fall out with many great Princes at once; that the turning of our forces another way, must needs be some diminution from the King of Denmark; who was engaged by us into the quarrel for the Palatinate and Germany, and hazarded both his person and dominions in the prosecution of the question. These matters I thought upon, as one that had sometimes been acquainted with Councils; but I kept my thoughts unto myself.
Again, I was never sent for to the Council table but I went; saving one time, when I was so ill that I might not stir abroad.
Moreover, I was sure that there wanted no Councillors at the Board; the number being so much increased as it was.
Besides, I had no great encouragement to thrust my crazy body abroad; since I saw what little esteem was made of me, in those things which belonged to mine own occupation. With Bishoprics and Deaneries, or other Church places I was no more acquainted; than if I had dwelt at Venice, and understood of them but by some Gazette.
The Duke of Buckingham had the managing of these things, as it was generally conceived. For what was he not fit to determine in Church or Commonwealth, in Court or Council, in peace or war, at land or at sea, at home or in foreign parts?
Montague had put out [published] his Arminian book. I, three times, complained of it: but he was held up against me; and by the Duke magnified, as a well deserving man.
Cosens put out his treatise, which they commonly call The Seven Sacraments: which, in the first edition had many strange things in it, as it seemeth. I knew nothing of it, but as it pleased [John Bridgman] my Lord of Durham, and [William Laud] the Bishop of Bath, so the world did read.
We were wont, in the High Commission, to repress obstinate and busy Papists.
In the end of King James his time, a Letter was brought me, under the hand and signet of the King, that "We must not meddle with any such matter: nor exact the twelve pence for the Sunday, of those which came not to the Church (with which forfeit, we never meddled)." And this was told us to be, in contemplation of a marriage intended with the Lady Mary, the Daughter of France.
After the death of King James, such another Letter was brought from King Charles; and all execution against Papists was suspended.
But when the Term was at Reading, by open divulgation in all Courts under the Great Seal of England, we and all magistrates were set at liberty to do as it was prescribed by law. And our pursuivants must have their warrants again, and take all the priests they can; whereof Master Cross took fourteen or fifteen in a very short space.
Not long after, all these are set free! and Letters come from the King, under his royal signet, that "All warrants must be taken from our messengers, because they spoiled the Catholics, and carried themselves unorderly unto them, especially the Bishops' pursuivants:" whereas we had in all, but two; Cross, my messenger, for whom I did ever offer to be answerable; and Thomlinson, for whom my Lord of London, I think, would do as much. But the caterpillars, indeed, were the pursuivants used by the sectaries [Puritans]: men of no value, and shifters in the world; who had been punished and turned away by us, for great misdemeanours.
But truth of religion and GOD's service was wont to overrule human policies, and not to be overruled; and I am certain that things best prosper, where those courses are held. But be it what it may be, I could not tell what to make of this Variation of the Compass, since it was only commanded unto me, to put such and such things in execution: but I never understood anything of the counsel, whereby I might give my judgement how fit or unfit they were, or might speak to alter the tenour; whereunto, in former times, I had been otherwise used. Variety [diversity] of reasons breedeth variety of actions.
For the matter of the Loan, I knew not, a long time, what to make of it. I was not present when the advice was taken, I understood not what was the foundation whereupon the building was raised; neither did ever any of the Council acquaint me therewith.
I saw, on the one side, the King's necessity for money; and especially it being resolved that the war should be pursued. And, on the other side, I could not forget that in the Parliament, great sums were offered, if the Petitions of the Commons might be hearkened unto.
It still ran in my mind, that the old and usual way was best; that in kingdoms, the harmony was sweetest where the Prince and the people tuned well together; that, whatsoever pretence of greatness [he might have], he was but an unhappy man! that set the King and the Body of the Realm at division; that the people, though not fit to be too much cockered, yet are they that must pray! that must pay! that must fight for their Princes! that it could not be, but [that] a man so universally hated in the kingdom as the Duke was, must (for the preservation of himself) desperately adventure on anything! if he might be hearkened unto.
These meditations I had with myself, and, GOD knoweth! I frequently, in my prayers, did beg that he whom these things did most concern, would seriously think upon them.
It ran in my mind, that this new device for money could not long hold out! that then, we must return into the Highway, whither it were best, to retire ourselves betimes; the shortest errors being the best.
But these thoughts, I suppressed within my soul: neither did I ever discourage any man from lending, nor encourage any man to hold back; which I confidently avouch.
At the opening of the Commission for the Loan, I was sent for, from Croydon. It seemed to me a strange thing: but I was told there that "howsoever it shewed, the King would have it so; there was no speaking against it."
I had not heard [i.e., at any time before] that men, throughout the kingdom, should lend money against their will! I knew not what to make of it! But when I saw in the instructions that refusers should be sent away for soldiers to the King of Denmark; I began to remember Uriah, that was sent in the forefront of the battle: and, to speak truth, I durst not be tender in it.
And when, afterwards, I saw that men were to be put to their oath, "With whom they had had conference, and whether any did dissuade them?" and yet further beheld that divers were to be imprisoned; I thought this was somewhat a New World! yet, all this while, I swallowed my own spittle, and spake nothing of it to any man.
Nay, when after some trial in Middlesex; the first sitting was for Surrey, in my House [the Palace] at Lambeth; and the Lords were there assembled, with the Justices of the whole county: I gave them entertainment in no mean fashion.
And I sat with them, albeit I said nothing; for the confusion was such, that I knew not what to make of it. Things went on every day, and speech was of much money to be raised out of some counties, yet afterwards it was not so readily paid as preferred [? deferred]: and, at length, some refused, even in London itself, and Southwark; besides many gentlemen of special rank, and some Lords, as it was said. And though it was reported that "they were but a contemptible company!" yet the prisons in London demonstrated that they were not a very few, but persons both of note and number.
The Judges, besides, concurring another way, that "They could not allow the legality of the demand, and the enforcement that is used thereupon," did somewhat puzzle me, for being too busy in promoting of that for which I might, one day, suffer. Yet, hitherto, I remained silent; hoping that time would break that off which was almost come to an absolute period [full stop].
But instead of this, by the permission of GOD, I was called up to the King, to look clearly into the question. When the allowance of Sibthorp's pamphlet was put upon me, I had then some reason, out of the grounds of that sermon to fear (and I pray GOD that my fear was in vain!) that the Duke had a purpose to turn upside down the Laws, and the whole Fundamental Courses, and Liberties of the Subject: and to leave us, not under the Statutes and Customs which our progenitors enjoyed; but to the Pleasure of Princes, of whom, as some are gentle and benign, so some others, to ingreat themselves [make themselves greater], might strain more than the string will bear.
Besides, now it came in my heart, that I was present at the King's Coronation: where many things, on the Prince's part, were solemnly promised; which, being observed, would keep all in order, and the King should have a loving and faithful people, and the Commons should have a kind and gracious King.
The contemplations of these things made me stay my judgement, not any unwillingness to do my Prince any dutiful service: whom I must, and do honour above all the creatures in the world, and will adventure as far for his true good, as any one whatsoever.
But I am loath to plunge myself, so over head and ears, in these difficulties, that I can neither live with quietness of conscience, nor depart out of the world with good fame and estimation. And, perhaps, my Sovereign (if, hereafter, he looked well into this paradox) would, of all the world hate me! because one of my profession, age, and calling, would deceive him; and, with base flattery, swerve from the truth. The hearts of Kings are in the hands of GOD, and He can turn them as rivers of water.
I draw to a conclusion. Only repute it not amiss, because so much falleth in here, to observe a few words of the Duke of Buckingham—not as now he is, but as he was in his rising.
I say nothing of his being in France, because I was not present; and divers others there be, that remember it well: but I take him at his first repair to Court [in 1614].
King James, for many insolences, grew weary of Somerset: and the Kingdom groaning under the Triumvirate of Northampton, Suffolk, and Somerset (though Northampton soon after died [in June, 1614]) was glad to be rid of him.
We could have no way so good to effectuate that which was the common desire, as to bring in another in his room. "One nail," as the proverb is, "being to be driven out by another."
It was now observed that the King began to cast his eye upon George Villiers, who was then Cup-bearer, and seemed a modest and courteous youth. But King James had a fashion, that he would never admit any to nearness about himself, but such a one as the Queen should commend unto him, and make some suit on his behalf: that if the Queen, afterwards, being ill intreated, should complain of this "Dear One!"; he might make his answer, "It is 'long of yourself! for you were the party that commended him unto me!" Our old Master took delight strangely, in things of this nature.
That noble Queen, who now resteth in heaven, knew her husband well; and having been bitten with Favourites, both in England and Scotland, was very shy to adventure upon this request.
King James, in the meantime, more and more loathed Somerset; and did not much conceal it, that his affection increased towards the other.
But the Queen would not come to it; albeit divers Lords (whereof some are dead; and some, yet living) did earnestly solicit Her Majesty thereunto.
When it would not do; I was very much moved [i.e., desired by others] to put to, my helping hand: they knowing that Queen Anne was graciously pleased to give me more credit than ordinary; which, all her attendants knew, she continued to the time of her death.
I laboured much, but could not prevail. The Queen oft said to me, "My Lord! you and the rest of your friends know not what you do! I know your Master better than you all! For if this young man be once brought in, the first persons that he will plague, must be you that labour for him! Yea, I shall have my part also! The King will teach him to despise and hardly intreat us all; that he [Buckingham] may seem to beholden to none but himself."
Noble Queen! how like a Prophetess or Oracle did you speak!
Notwithstanding this, we were still instant, telling Her Majesty that "the change would be for the better! for George was of a good nature, which the other was not; and if he should degenerate, yet it would be a long time before he were able to attain to that height of evil, which the other had."
In the end, upon importunity, Queen Anne condescended [agreed to it]; and so pressed it with the King, that he assented thereunto: which was so stricken, while the iron was hot, that, in the Queen's Bedchamber, the King knighted him with a rapier which the Prince [Charles] did wear. And when the King gave order to swear him of the Bedchamber, Somerset (who was near) importuned the King with a message that he might be only sworn a Groom. But myself and others, that were at the door, sent to Her Majesty that "She would perfect her work, and cause him to be sworn a Gentleman of her Chamber!"
There is a Lord, or two, living that had a hand in this achievement. I diminish nothing of their praise for so happy a work: but I know my own part best; and, in the word of an honest man, I have reported nothing but truth.
George went in with the King; but no sooner he got loose, but he came forth unto me, in the Privy Gallery, and there embraced me. He professed that "He was so infinitely bound unto me that, all his life long, he must honour me as his father." And now, he did beseech me, that I would give him some Lessons how he should carry himself.
When he had earnestly followed this chase, I told him, I would give him three short lessons, if he would learn them.
The First was, That, daily, upon his knees, he should pray to GOD to bless the King his Master, and to give him (George) grace studiously to serve and please him.
The Second was, That he should do all good offices between the King and the Queen; and between the King and the Prince.
The Third was, That he should fill his Master's ears with nothing but truth.
I made him repeat these three things unto me: and then I would have him, to acquaint the King with them! and so tell me, when I met him again, what the King said unto him.
He promised he would. And the morrow after, Master Thomas Murray (the Prince's Tutor) and I standing together, in the gallery at Whitehall, Sir George Villiers coming forth, and drawing to us, he told Master Murray how much he was beholden unto me, and that I had given him certain instructions: which I prayed him to rehearse: as, indifferently well he did, before us. Yea, and that he had acquainted the King with them; who said, "They were instructions worthy of an Archbishop, to give to a young man."
His countenance of thankfulness continued for a few days, but not long! either to me or any others, his well wishers. The Roman historian, Tacitus, hath somewhere a note that "Benefits, while they may be requited, seem courtesies; but when they are so high, that they cannot be repaid, they prove matters of hatred."
Thus, to lie by me, to quicken my remembrance, I have laid down the Cause and the Proceedings of my sending [being sent] into Kent; where I remain at the writing of this Treatise. Praying GOD, to bless and guide our King aright! to continue the prosperity and welfare of this Kingdom, which, at this time, is shrewdly shaken! to send good and worthy men to be Governors [i.e., Bishops] of our Church! to prosper my mind and body, that I may do nothing that may give a wound to my conscience! and then, to send me patience quietly to endure whatsoever His Divine Majesty shall be pleased to lay upon me! Da quod jubes, et jube quod vis! and, in the end, to give me such a happy deliverance, either in life or death, as may be most for His glory; and for the wholesome example of others! who look much on the actions and passions of Men of my Place.
Ben Jonson.
Answer to Master Wither's Song,
Shall I, wasting in despair.
[Which Song originally appeared in the privately printed edition of Fidelia, in 1617; and was incorporated, with some variations in the text, in Fair Virtue in 1622, as may be seen at p. [454]. Jonson's Parody was printed in a very rare Collection, entitled A Description of Love: with certain Epigrams, Elegies, and Sonnets, &c., the Second Edition of which was printed in 1620. We have here used a copy of the Sixth Edition of 1629, in the British Museum; press mark, C. 39. a.]
Wither.
Shall I, wasting in despair,
Die, because a woman's Fair?
Or my cheeks make pale with care,
'Cause another's rosy are?
Be She fairer than the Day,
Or the flowery meads in May!
If She be not so to me,
What care I, how Fair She be?
Jonson.
Shall I, mine affections slack,
'Cause I see a woman's Black?
Or myself, with care cast down,
'Cause I see a woman brown?
Be She blacker than the night,
Or the blackest jet in sight!
If She be not so to me,
What care I, how Black She be?
Wither.
Should my foolish heart be pined,
'Cause I see a woman Kind?
Or a well disposèd nature
Joinèd with a comely feature?
Be She kind, or meeker than
Turtle dove, or pelican!
If She be not so to me,
What care I, how Fair She be?
Jonson.
Shall my foolish heart be burst,
'Cause I see a woman's curst?
Or a thwarting hoggish nature
Joinèd in as bad a feature?
Be She curst, or fiercer than
Brutish beast, or savage man!
If She be not so to me,
What care I, how Curst She be?
Wither.
Shall a woman's virtues make
Me to perish for her sake?
Or her merits' value known,
Make me quite forget mine own?
Be She with that Goodness blest
Which may merit name of Best!
If She seem not so to me,
What care I, how Good She be?
Jonson.
Shall a woman's vices make
Me her vices quite forsake?
Or her faults to me make known,
Make me think that I have none?
Be She of the most accurst,
And deserve the name of worst!
If She be not so to me,
What care I, how Bad She be?
Wither.
'Cause her fortunes seem too high,
Should I play the fool, and die?
He that bears a noble mind,
If not outward help he find;
Think, what, with them, he would do;
That, without them, dares to woo!
And unless that mind I see,
What care I, how Great She be?
Jonson.
'Cause her fortunes seem too low,
Shall I therefore let her go?
He that bears an humble mind
And with riches can be kind.
Think how kind a heart he'd have,
If he were some servile slave!
And if that same mind I see,
What care I, how Poor She be?
Wither.
Great, or Good, or Kind, or Fair,
I will ne'er the more despair!
If She love me (then believe!)
I will die, ere She shall grieve!
If She slight me, when I woo;
I can scorn, and let her go!
For if She be not for me!
What care I, for whom She be?
Jonson.
Poor, or Bad, or Curst, or Black,
I will ne'er the more be slack!
If she hate me (then believe!)
She shall die, ere I will grieve!
If She like me, when I woo;
I can like and love her too!
If that She be fit for me!
What care I, what others be?
[THE
FAMOUS AND
Wonderful Recovery
of a Ship of Bristol, called the
Exchange, from the Turkish
Pirates of Argier.]
WITH THE UNMATCHABLE
attempts and good success of John Rawlins, Pilot in
her, and other slaves: who, in the end (with the
slaughter of about forty of the Turks and Moors),
brought the ship into Plymouth, the 13th of
February [1622] last, with the Captain
a Renegado, and five Turks more;
besides the redemption of twenty-four
men and one boy from
Turkish slavery.
LONDON:
Printed for Nathaniel Butter, dwelling at the Pied Bull, at Saint Austen's Gate.
1622.
[This Narrative, which is reprinted from a very rare copy of the original edition in the Bodleian Library, was not written by Rawlins; but the unknown illustrator, or cementer of "the broken pieces of well-tempered mortar," so describing himself at p. [607], who put the information supplied by the brave Pilot, into its present shape.]
To the Right Honourable
George, Marquis of Buckingham,
Viscount Villiers, Baron of Whaddon, Lord High
Admiral of England; Justice in Eyre of all His
Majesty's Forests, Parks, and Chases beyond Trent;
Master of the Horse to His Majesty, and one of
the Gentlemen of His Majesty's Bed Chamber;
Knight of the most noble Order of the
Garter, and one of His Majesty's
most honourable Privy Council
of England and Scotland.
Right Honourable,
Seeing it hath pleased GOD by so weak means as my poor self, to have His power and goodness made manifest to the World, as by this following Relation may appear: I thought it my duty to present the same unto you; whom the Majesty of England hath presented unto us, as our Patron, and Chief Commander of our sea affairs. Accept it then, I humbly beseech you! as the unpolished work of a poor sailor; and the rather, for that it exemplifies the glory of GOD. For by such men as myself, your Honour must be served, and England made the happiest of all nations.
For though you have greater persons, and more braving spirits to be over our heads, and hold inferiors in subjection; yet are we the men that must pull the ropes, weigh up the anchors, toil in the night, endure the storms, sweat at the helm, watch the biticle [binnacle], attend the compass, guard the ordnance, keep the night hours, and be ready for all impositions.
If, then, you vouchsafe to entertain it! I have my desire. For, according to the oath of Jurors, it is "the truth, and the very truth." If otherwise, you suppose it trivial! it is only the prostitution of my service; and Wisdom is not bought in the market!
Your Honour's humbly to be commanded,
JOHN RAWLINS.
THE FAMOUS
and Wonderful Recovery of the Exchange of Bristol from the Turkish pirates of Argier.
The Psalmist saith, that "He that goeth to sea, shall see the wonders of GOD!" and I may well say, that he that converseth with mariners and sailors shall hear of the wonders of men! as by this following Discourse shall appear.
Not that I am willing to be the author of novelty, or amaze you with incredible reports; but because I would not let slip so remarkable an accident, and so profitable a relation. Remarkable, as extending to manifest the power and glory of GOD, who hath variety of supportation in store to sweeten affliction, and make all endurances subject to fortitude and patience: profitable, as being thus far exemplary, to teach all men of action and employment, not to despair in distress; and to know thus much, that brave attempts are compassed by resolution and industrious employment, and whether they thrive or not, yet shall the enterprise be Charactered with a worthy exploit. And if it end with success; O how shall the Actors be remembered to posterity! and make their fame immortal that, either purchased their liberty, even out of fire; or delivered themselves (though by death itself) from slavish captivity, or the thraldom of barbarous Infidels; who glory in nothing more than the perdition of our souls, and the derision of our Christ.
Hearken, then, I pray you! to this following Relation! and learn thereby, as I said, both to give GOD the praise of all deliverances; and to instruct one another in the absolute duties of Christianity. By the one, the Power and Providence, with all the attributes belonging to so immense a Deity, shall be made manifest; by the other, the weak brother shall be comforted, the strong confirmed, the wavering reduced, the faint-hearted erected, and the presumptuous moderated. By both, Religion shall have a sweet passage in the consciences of men; and men made the happy instruments of GOD's glory, and their own increases of good example and imitation.
And thus much for Preamble or Introduction. Now, to the matter itself!
In the year 1621, the 1st of November, there was one John Rawlins (born in Rochester, and dwelling three and twenty years in Plymouth) employed to the Straits of Gibraltar, by Master Richard, and Steven Treviles, Merchants of Plymouth; and freighted in a bark called the Nicholas of Plymouth, of the burden of 40 tons: which had also in her company, another ship of Plymouth, called the George Bonaventure, of 70 tons burden or thereabouts; which, by reason of her greatness beyond the other, I will name the Admiral [flag-ship], and John Rawlins's bark shall, if you please, be the Vice-Admiral.
These two, according to the time of the year, had a fair passage; and, by the 18th of the same month, came to a place at the entering of the Straits, named Trafalgar; but the next morning [19th November, 1621], being in the sight of Gibraltar, at the very mouth of the Straits, the watch descried five sail of ships. Who, as it seemed, used all the means they could to come near us; and we, as we had cause, used the same means to go as far from them; yet did their Admiral take in both his topsails, that either we might not suspect them, or that his own company might come up the closer together. At last, perceiving us [to be] Christians, they fell from devices, to apparent discovery of hostility, and making out against us. We again suspecting them [to be] pirates, took our course to escape from them; and made all the sails we possibly could for Terriff or Gibraltar: but all we could do, could not prevent their approach. For, suddenly, one of them came right over against us to windward; and so fell on our quarter. Another came up on our luff, and so threatened us there. And, at last, all five chased us; making great speed to surprise us.
Their Admiral was called Callfater; having upon her main-topsail, two top-gallant sails, one above another. But whereas we thought them all five to be Turkish Ships of War; we afterwards understood that two of them were their prizes (the one, a small ship of London, the other of the West Country), that came out of the Quactath, laden with figs and other merchandise, but now [were] subject to the fortune of the sea, and the captivity of pirates. But to our business!
Three of these ships got much upon us; and so much, that, ere half the day was spent, the Admiral, which was the best sailer, fetched up the George Bonaventure, and made booty of it.
The Vice-Admiral again, being nearest unto the lesser bark whereof John Rawlins was Master, shewed him the force of a stronger arm; and by his Turkish name, called Villa Rise, commanded him, in like sort, to strike his sails, and submit to his mercy: which, not to be gainsaid, nor prevented, was quickly done. And so Rawlins, with his bark, was as quickly taken; although the Rear-Admiral, being the worst sailer of the three, called Riggiprise, came not in, till all was done.
The same day, before night, the Admiral (either loath to pester himself with too much company, or ignorant of the commodity [which] was to be made by the sale of English prisoners, or daring not to trust them in his company for fear of mutinies, and exciting others to rebellion) set twelve persons who were in the George Bonaventure, and divers other English whom he had taken before, on the land, to try their fortunes in an unknown country.
But Villa Rise, the Vice-Admiral, that had taken John Rawlins, would not so dispense with his men; but commanded him, and five more of his company to be brought aboard his ship: leaving in his bark, three men and his boy, with thirteen Turks and Moors, who were, questionless, sufficient to overmaster the others, and direct the bark to harbour.
Thus they sailed direct for Argier [Algiers]. But, the night following followed them with great tempest and foul weather, which ended not without some effect of a storm: for they lost the sight of Rawlins's bark, called the Nicholas; and, in a manner, lost themselves (though they seemed safe a shipboard) by fearful conjecturing what should become of us?
At last, by the 22nd of the same month, they, or we (choose you whether! for I would not be mistaken in altering the persons, by either naming the first for the third, or the third for the first; but only make the discourse equal, by setting down the business honestly and truly as it chanced) arrived in Argier; and came in safety within the Mole: but found not our other bark there; nay, though we earnestly inquired after the same.
Yet heard we nothing to our satisfaction; but much matter was ministered to our discomfort and amazement. For although the Captain and our Overseers were loath we should have any conference with our countrymen; yet did we adventure to inform ourselves of the present affairs, both of the town and of the shipping. So that finding many English at work in other ships, they spared not to tell us the danger we were in, and the mischiefs we must needs incur; as being sure, "If we were not used like slaves, to be sold as slaves: for there had been five hundred brought into the market for the same purpose, and above a hundred handsome youths compelled to turn Turks; all English!" Yet, like good Christians, they bade us "Be of good cheer! and comfort ourselves in this! That GOD's trials were gentle purgations; and these crosses were but to cleanse the dross from the gold, and bring us out of the fire again, more clear and lovely."
Yet, I must needs confess, that they afforded us reason for this cruelty; as if they determined to be revenged of our last attempt to fire their ships in the Mole [by Sir Robert Mansell's fleet in May, 1621. See J. B's. Algiers Voyage, 1621], and therefore protested "to spare none! whom they could surprise, and take alone; but either to sell them for money or to torment them to serve their own ends."
Now their customs and usages, in both these, were in this manner.
First, concerning the first. The Bashaw [Pasha] had the overseeing of all prisoners who were presented unto him, at their first coming into the harbour; and so chose one out of every eight, for a present or fee to himself. The rest were rated by the Captains, and so sent to the market to be sold: whereat, if either there were repining, or any drawing back; then certain Moors and Officers attended, either to beat you forward, or thrust you in the sides with goads. And this was the manner of the selling of slaves.
Secondly, concerning their enforcing them, either to turn Turk or to attend their impieties: although it would make a Christian's heart bleed to hear of the same; yet must the truth not be hid, nor the terror left untold. They commonly lay them on their naked backs or bellies, beating them so long till they bleed at the nose and mouth: and if yet they continue constant, then they strike the teeth out of their heads, pinch them by their tongues, and use many other sorts of tortures to convert them. Nay, many times, they lay them, their whole length, in the ground, like a grave; and so cover them with boards, threatening to starve them, if they will not turn. And so, many, even for fear of torment and death, make their tongues betray their hearts to a most fearful wickedness: and so are circumcised with new names, and brought to confess a new religion. Others again, I must confess, who never knew any god but their own sensual lusts and pleasures, thought that any religion would serve their turns: and so, for preferment or wealth, very voluntarily renounced their faith, and became Renegadoes; in despite of any counsel which seemed to intercept them.
And this was the first news we encountered with, at our coming first to Argier.
The 26th of the same month, John Rawlins' bark, with his other three men and a boy, came safe into the Mole; and so were put all together, to be carried before the Bashaw; but that they took the Owner's Servant [? Supercargo] and Rawlins's boy, and, by force and torment, compelled them to turn Turks.
Then were they in all, seven English, besides John Rawlins: of whom the Bashaw took one; and sent the rest to their Captains, who set a valuation upon them. So the soldiers hurried us, like dogs, into the market; where, as men sell hackneys in England, we were tossed up and down, to see who would give most for us. And although we had heavy hearts, and looked with sad countenances; yet many came to behold us; sometimes taking us by the hand, sometimes turning us round about, sometimes feeling our brawns and naked arms: and so beholding our prices written in our breasts, they bargained for us accordingly; and, at last, we were all sold, and the soldiers returned with their money to their Captains.
John Rawlins was the last that was sold, by reason of his lame hand. He was bought by the Captain that took him, even that dog Villa Rise! who (better informing himself of his skill fit to be a Pilot, and his experience to be an Overseer) bought him and his Carpenter at very easy rates. For, as we afterwards understood by divers English Renegadoes, he paid for Rawlins but 150 Doublets, which make, of English money, £7 10s.
Thus was he and his Carpenter, with divers other slaves, sent into his ship to work; and employed about such affairs as belonged to the well rigging and preparing the same.
But the villainous Turks perceiving his lame hand, and that he could not perform so much as other slaves, quickly complained to their Patron: who as quickly apprehended the inconvenience: whereupon he sent for him, the next day, and told him, "He was unserviceable for his present purpose! and therefore unless he could procure £15 of the English there, for his ransom: he would send him up into the country, where he should never see Christendom again, and endure the extremity of a miserable banishment."
But see how GOD worketh all for the best for His servants! and confoundeth the presumption of tyrants, frustrating their purposes, to make His wonders known to the sons of men! and relieves His people, when they least think of succour and releasement!
Whilst John Rawlins was thus terrified with the dogged answer of Villa Rise, the Exchange of Bristol, a ship formerly surprised by the pirates, lay all unrigged in the harbour, till, at last, one John Goodale, an English Turk, with his confederates (understanding she was a good sailer, and might be made a proper Man of War) bought her from the Turks that took her; and prepare her for their own purposes.
Now the Captain that set them on work, was also an English Renegado, by the name of Rammetham Rise, but by his Christian name Henry Chandler: who resolved to make Goodale, Master over her.
And because they were both English Turks (having the command, notwithstanding, of many Turks and Moors) they concluded to have all English slaves to go in her; and for their gunners, English and Dutch Renegadoes: and so they agreed with the Patrons of nine English slaves and one French for their ransoms; who were presently employed to rig and furnish the ship for a Man of War.
And while they were thus busied, two of John Rawlins's, men (who were taken with him), were also taken up to serve in this Man of War: their names, James Roe and John Davies, the one dwelling in Plymouth; and the other in Foy, where the Commander of this ship was also born, by which occasion they became acquainted. So that both the Captain and the Master promised them good usage, upon the good service they should perform in the voyage; and withal, demanded of Davies if he knew of any Englishman to be bought, that could serve them as a Pilot; both to direct them out of harbour, and conduct them in their voyage. For, in truth, neither was the Captain a mariner, nor any Turk in her of sufficiency to dispose of navigate her through the Straits in security; nor oppose any enemy that should hold it out bravely against them.
Davies quick replied that, "As far as he understood, Villa Rise would sell John Rawlins, his Master, and Commander of the bark which was taken. A man every way sufficient for sea affairs, being of great resolution and good experience; and for all he had a lame hand, yet had he a sound heart and noble courage for any attempt or adventure."
When the Captain understood thus much, he employed Davies to search for Rawlins; who, at last lighting upon him, asked him, "If the Turk would sell him?"
Rawlins suddenly answered, that "By reason of his lame hand he was willing to part with him; but because he had disbursed money for him, he would gain something by him; and so priced him at 300 doublets, which amounteth to £15 English; which he must procure, or incur sorer endurances."
When Davies had certified thus much, the Turks a shipboard conferred about the matter; and the Master, whose Christian name was John Goodale, joined with two Turks who were consorted with him, and disbursed 100 doublets a piece, and so bought him of Villa Rise: sending him into the said ship called the Exchange of Bristol; as well to supervise what had been done, as to order what was left undone; but especially to fit the sails, and to accommodate [fit out] the ship. All which, Rawlins was very careful and indulgent in; not yet thinking of any particular plot of deliverance, more than a general desire to be freed from this Turkish slavery, and inhuman abuses.
By the 7th of January [1622], the ship was prepared, with twelve good cast pieces, and all manner of munition and provision which belonged to such a purpose: and, the same day, hauled out of the Mole of Argier, with this company, and in this manner.
There were in her sixty-three Turks and Moors, nine English slaves and one French, four Hollanders that were free men (to whom the Turks promised one prize or other, and so to return to Holland; or if they were disposed to go back again for Argier, they should have great reward, and no enforcement offered, but continue, as they would, both their religion and their customs): and for their gunners, they had two of our soldiers, one English and one Dutch Renegado. And thus much for the company.
For the manner of setting out, it was as usual, as in other ships; but that the Turks delighted in the ostentatious bravery of their streamers, banners, and topsails: the ship being a handsome ship, and well built for any purpose. The slaves and English were employed under hatches, about the ordnance and other works of order, and accommodating [berthing] themselves.
All which, John Rawlins marked, as supposing it an intolerable slavery to take such pains, and be subject to such dangers; and still to enrich other men, and maintain their voluptuous lives; returning themselves as slaves, and living worse than dogs amongst them. Whereupon, after he had conceited the indignity and reproach of their baseness, and the glory of an exploit that could deliver himself and the rest from this slavish captivity; being very busy among the English in pulling of ropes, and placing of ordnance, he burst into these, or such like abrupt speeches: "O hellish slavery! to be thus subject to dogs! to labour thus to enrich infidels, and maintain their pleasures! to be ourselves slaves, and worse than the outcast of the world! Is there no way of releasement? no device to free us from this bondage? no exploit, no action of worth to be put in execution, to make us renown in the world, and famous to posterity? O GOD! strengthen my heart and hand, and something shall be done to ease us of these mischiefs, and deliver us from these cruel Mahomedan dogs!"
The other slaves pitying his distraction, as they thought, bade him, "Speak softly! least they should all fare the worse for his distemperature!"
"The worse!" quoth Rawlins, "what can be worse? Death is the determiner of all misery! and torture can last but a while! But to be continually a dying; and suffer all indignity and reproach: and, in the end, to have no welcome but into the House of Slaughter or Bondage, is insufferable! and more than flesh and blood can endure! And therefore, by that salvation which Christ hath brought, I wilt either attempt my deliverance at one time or another, or perish in the enterprise! but if you would be contented to hearken after a release, and join with me in the action; I would not doubt of facilitating the same, and shew you away to make your credits thrive by some work of amazement, and augment your glory in purchasing your liberty!"
"Ay, prithee, be quiet!" said they again, "and think not of impossibilities! Yet, if you can but open such a door of reason and probability that we be not condemn for desperate and distracted persons, in pulling the sun (as it were) out of the firmament; we can but sacrifice our lives! and you may be sure of secrecy and taciturnity!"
"Now, blessed be my genius!" said Rawlins, "that ever this motive was so opportunely preferred! and therefore we will be quiet a while, till the iron be hotter, that we may not strike in vain."
The 15th January, the morning water [tide] brought us near Cape de Gatte, hard by the shore; we having in our company, a small Turkish Ship of War that followed us out of Argier, the next day: and now joining us she gave us notice of seven small vessels, six of them being Sattees and one a Polacca; who very quickly appeared in sight, and so we made towards them.
But having more advantage of the Polacca than the rest, and loath to lose all, we both fetched her up, and brought her past hope of recovery; which when she perceived, rather than she would voluntarily come into the slavery of the Mahomedans, she ran herself ashore; and so all the men forsook her.
We still followed as near as we durst, and for fear of splitting [i.e., on the rocks], let fall our anchors; making out [sending] both our boats, wherein were many musketeers and some English and Dutch Renegadoes: who came aboard home at their congé [entered the vessel, without opposition], and found three pieces of ordnance, and four murtherers [see Vol. I. p. 500], but straightway threw them all overboard, to lighten the ship. So they got her off, being ladened with hides, and logwood for dyeing: and presently sent her to Argier, taking nine Turks and one English slave out of one ship, and six out of the lesser; which, we thought, sufficient to man her.
But see the chance! or, if you will, how fortune smiled on us. In the rifling of this Catalcynia [? Catalonian], the Turks fell at variance, one with another; and in such a manner that we divided ourselves [parted company]: the lesser ship returned to Argier and our Exchange took the opportunity of the wind, and plied out of the Straits; which rejoiced John Rawlins very much, as resolving on some stratagem, when opportunity should serve.
In the meanwhile, the Turks began to murmur, and would not willingly go into the Marr Granada, as the phrase is amongst them; notwithstanding the Moors, being very superstitious, were contented to be directed by their Hoshca, who, with us, signifieth a Witch [or rather Wizard]: and is of great account and reputation amongst them, as not going in any great vessel to sea without one; and observing whatsoever he concludeth, out of his divination.
The ceremonies he useth are many; and when they come into the ocean, every second or third night, he maketh his conjuration. He beginneth, and endeth with prayer, using many characters, and calling upon GOD by divers names.
Yet, at this time, all that he did, consisteth in these particulars. Upon the sight, and, as we were afraid, the chasing of two great ships, being supposed to be Spanish Men of War, a great silence is commanded in the ship; and when all is done, the company giveth as great a screech; the Captain still coming to John Rawlins and sometimes making him to take in all his sails, and sometimes causing him to hoist them all out, as the Witch findeth by his book and presages.
Then have they two arrows and a curtleaxe lying on a pillow, naked. The arrows are, one for the Turks, and the other for the Christians. Then the Witch readeth, and the Captain or some other, taketh the arrows in their hand by the heads, and if the arrow for the Christians cometh over the head of the arrow for the Turks, then do they advance their sails, and will not endure the fight, whatsoever they see; but if the arrow of the Turks is found, in the opening of the hand, upon the arrow of the Christians, they will then stay and encounter with any ship whatsoever.
The curtleaxe is taken up by some child that is innocent, or rather, ignorant of the ceremony; and so laid down again. Then they do observe whether the same side is uppermost, which lay before: and so proceed accordingly.
They also observe lunatics and changlings, and the Conjurer writeth down their sayings in a book, grovelling on the ground, as if he whispered to the Devil, to tell him the truth: and so expoundeth the Letter, as it were, by inspiration.
Many other foolish rites they have, whereon they do dote as foolishly; and whereof, I could entreat more at large, but this shall suffice at this time.
Whilst he was thus busied, and made demonstration that all was finished; the people in the ship gave a great shout, and cried out "A sail!" "a sail!": which, at last, was discovered to be another Man of War of Turks. For he made towards us, and sent his boat aboard us; to whom, our Captain complained that being becalmed by the Southern Cape [? of Portugal, i.e., Cape St. Vincent]; and having "made" no voyage, the Turks denied to go any further northward; but the Captain resolved not to return to Argier, except he could obtain some prize worthy his endurances; but rather to go to Salle, and sell his Christians to victual his ship. Which the other Captain apprehended for his honour; and so persuaded the Turks to be obedient unto him: whereupon followed a pacification amongst us; and so that Turk took his course for the Straits, and we put up northward, expecting the good hour of some beneficial booty.
All this while our slavery continued; and the Turks, with insulting tyranny, set us still on work in all base and servile actions; adding stripes and inhuman revilings, even in our greatest labour. Whereupon John Rawlins resolved to obtain his liberty and surprise the ship, providing ropes with broad specks of iron, and all the iron crows, with which he knew a way, upon the consent of the rest, to ram up or tie fast their scuttles, gratings, and cabins; yea, to shut up the Captain himself with all his consorts: and so to handle the matter, that, upon the watchword given, the English being masters of the Gunner Room, ordnance and powder, they would either blow them into the air; or kill them, as they adventured to come down, one by one, if they should, by any chance, open their cabins.
But because he would proceed the better in his enterprise, as he had somewhat abruptly discovered himself to the nine English slaves, so he kept the same distance with the four Hollanders that were free men: till finding them coming somewhat towards them; he acquainted with them the whole conspiracy; and they affecting the plot, offered the adventure of their lives in the business.
Then, very warily, he undermined the English Renegado which was the Gunner; and three more, his associates: who, at first, seemed to retract.
Last of all, were brought in the Dutch Renegadoes, who were also in the Gunner Room; for always there lay twelve there, five Christians, and seven English and Dutch Turks.
So that, when another motion had settled their resolutions, and John Rawlins's constancy had put new life, as it were, into the matter: the four Hollanders very honestly, according to their promise, sounded the Dutch Renegadoes; who, with easy persuasion, gave their consent to so brave an enterprise.
Whereupon John Rawlins, not caring whether the English Gunners would yield or not, resolved, in the Captain's morning watch, to make the attempt.
But, you must understand that where the English slaves lay [in the Gun Room], there hung up always four or five crows of iron; being still under the carriages of the pieces. And, when the time approached, being very dark: because John Rawlins. would have his crow of iron ready, as other things were, and other men prepared, in their several places; in taking it out of the carriage, by chance, it hit on the side of the piece, making such a noise, that the soldiers hearing it, awaked the Turks, and bade them come down. Whereupon, the Boatswain of the Turks descended, with a candle, and presently searched all the slaves' places, making much ado of the matter: but finding neither hatchet, nor hammer, nor anything else to move suspicion of the enterprise more than the crow of iron, which lay slipped down under the carriages of the pieces; they went quietly up again, and certified the Captain, what had chanced, who satisfied himself that it was a common thing to have a crow of iron slip from his place.
But by this occasion, we made stay of our attempt; yet were resolved to take another or a better opportunity.
Only I must tell you, what John Rawlins would have done, if this accident had not happened. He was fully minded, with some others, with their naked knives in their hands, to press upon the Gunner's breast and the other English Renegadoes, and either force them to consent to their designs, or to cut their throats; first telling them plainly that "They had vowed to surprise the ship, and, by GOD's assistance, to obtain their liberty; and therefore Die! or Consent (when you hear the watchword given, For GOD! and King James! and St. George for England!) [that] you presently keep your places! and advise to execute what you are commanded!"
But as you have heard, GOD was the best physician to our wounded hearts; and used a kind of preventing physic, rather than to cure us so suddenly. So that, out of His Providence, perceiving some danger in this enterprise, He both caused us to desist; and, at last, brought our business to a better period, and fortunate end.
For we sailed still more northward, and Rawlins had more time to tamper with his Gunners, and the rest of the English Renegadoes: who very willingly, when they considered the matter, and perpended the reasons, gave way unto the project; and with a kind of joy seemed to entertain the motives. Only they made a stop at [as to] the first onset, who should begin the enterprise, which was no way fit for them to do; because they were no slaves, but Renegadoes, and so had always beneficial entertainment amongst them: but when it was once put in practice, they would be sure not to fail them; but venture their lives for GOD and their country.
When Rawlins had heard them out, he much liked their contradiction [reservation]; and told them plainly, "He did require no such thing at their hands! but the slaves and himself would first sound the channel, and adventure the water." And so, after reciprocal oaths taken, and hands given; Rawlins, once again, lay in wait for the fittest opportunity. But once again he was disappointed; and a suspicious accident brought him to re-collect his spirits anew, and study on the danger of the enterprise: and thus it was.
After the Renegado Gunner had protested secrecy, by all that might induce a man to bestow some belief upon him; he presently went up the scottle [scuttle]; but stayed not aloft a quarter of an hour. Nay, he came sooner down; and in the Gunner Room sat by Rawlins, who tarried for him, where he left him.
He was no sooner placed, and entered into some conference, but there entered into the place, a furious Turk, with his knife drawn, and presented it to Rawlins's body: who verily supposed he intended to kill him; as suspicious that the Gunner had discovered something. Whereat Rawlins was much moved; and so hastily asked, "What the matter meant? or whether he would kill him or not?" observing his countenance; and (according to the nature of jealousy) conceiting that his colour had a passage of change, whereby his suspicious heart condemned him for a traitor; but that, at more leisure, he sware the contrary, and afterwards proved faithful and industrious in the enterprise. And for the present, he answered Rawlins, in this manner, "No, Master! be not afraid! I think, he doth but jest!"
With that, John Rawlins gave back a little, and drew out his knife; stepping also to the Gunner's sheath, and taking out his, whereby he had two knives to one: which, when the Turk perceived, he threw down his knife, saying, "He did but jest with him!"
But, as I said, when the Gunner perceived, Rawlins took it so ill, he whispered something in his ear, that, at last, satisfied him: calling heaven to witness that "He never spake a word of the enterprise, nor ever would! either to the prejudice of the business, or danger of his person."
Notwithstanding, Rawlins kept the knives in his sleeve, all night, and was somewhat troubled; for that he had made so many acquainted with an action of such importance: but, the next day, when he perceived the coast clear, and that there was no further cause for fear, he somewhat comforted himself; and grew bolder and bolder in disposing the affairs of the ship. Only it grieved him that his enterprises were thus procrastinated: whereby the Mahomedan tyranny increased, and the poor slaves even groaned again under the burden of their bondage; and thought every day a year, till something was put in execution for their deliverance. For it was now full five weeks since Rawlins first projected the matter.
All this while, Rawlins drew the Captain to lie for the Northern Cape [? Cape Finisterre], assuring him, that thereby he should not miss purchase; which accordingly fell out, as a wish would have it: but his drift was, in truth, to draw him from any supply or second [reinforcement] of Turks, if GOD should give way to their enterprise, or success to the victory.
Yet, for the present, the 6th of February, being twelve leagues from the Cape, we descried a sail; and presently, took the advantage of the wind in chasing her, and at last fetched her up, making her strike all her sails: whereby we knew her to be a bark belonging to Torbay, near Dartmouth, that came from Averare, laden with salt.
Ere we had fully despatched, it chanced to be foul weather; so that we could not, or at least would not make out our boat; but caused the Master of the bark to let down his, and come aboard with his company; there being in the bark but nine men, and one boy.
And so the Master, leaving his Mate with two men in the same, came himself, with five men and the boy unto us; whereupon our Turkish Captain sent ten Turks to man her: amongst whom, were two Dutch and one English Renegado, who were of our confederacy, and acquainted with us.
But when Rawlins saw this partition of his friends, before they could hoist out their boat for the bark; he made means to speak with them, and told them plainly that "He would prosecute the matter, either that night, or the next: and therefore, whatsoever came of it, they should acquaint the English with his resolution, and make towards England; bearing up the helm, whiles the Turks slept and suspected no such matter. For, by GOD's grace, in his first watch, about midnight, he would shew them a light; by which they might understand that the enterprise was begun, or, at least, in a good forwardness for the execution."
So the boat was let down, and they came to the bark of Torbay; where the Master's Mate being left, as before you have heard, apprehended quickly the matter, and heard the discourse with amazement.
But time was precious, and not to be spent in disputing or casting of doubts, whether the Turks that were with them were able to master them or not; being seven to six: considering they had the helm of the ship, and the Turks being soldiers, and ignorant of sea affairs, could not discover whether they went to Argier or not; or, if they did, they resolved, by Rawlins's example, to cut their throats, or cast them overboard. And so I leave them to make use of the Renegadoes' instructions: and return to Rawlins again.
The Master of the bark of Torbay and his company were quickly searched, and as quickly pillaged, and dismissed to the liberty of the ship; whereby Rawlins had leisure to entertain him with the lamentable news of their extremities, and the adventure of their voyages: whereby he understood of his first setting out from the West country, of his taking and surprising at sea by Villa Rise; of his twice being sold as a slave, and so continuing to his heart-burning and excruciation; of the making [of] the Exchange of Bristol, a Man of War, which they were now in; of the Captain and Master, who were both English Renegadoes; of the cruelty of the Turks in general, and his own fortunes in particular; of his admission into the ship as a Pilot; of the friendship which passed between him and the Hollanders; of the imparting of the secret of surprising the ship, both to the slaves and Christian Renegadoes; of their consent and courageous apprehension of the matter; of the first attempt, and their twice disappointing; of his still resolution presently [at once] to put it in practice; of his last acquainting [of] the Dutch Renegadoes who went aboard his bark; and in a word, of every particular which was befitting to the purpose.
"Yea," he told him, that "that night, he should lose the sight of them, for they would make the helm for England;" and that he "would, that night, and evermore, pray for their good success and safe deliverance."
When the Master of the Bark of Torbay had heard him out, and that his company were partakers of his story; they all became silent: not either diffident of his discourse or afraid of the attempt; but as wondering at the goodness of GOD, and His mercy in choosing out such weak instruments to set forth His glory.
"True," quoth Rawlins, when he found them coming towards him, "it is so! For mark but the circumstance of the matter! and you shall see the very finger of GOD to point us out our deliverance! When we came into the main ocean to hunt after prizes, according to the nature of pirates, and that I resolved on the enterprise, there were sixty-five Turks in our ship, and only seventeen of our confederacy. Then it pleased GOD to abate us ten of the Turks, who were sent with the Polacca before recited. And when we were disappointed again of our purposes; you see now what hath chanced! We are rid of more Turks, and welcome you, as a new supply! so that, if you please, we shall be twenty-four strong; and they, in all, are but forty-five. Be therefore courageous! and let us join heart, hand, and foot together that we may execute this brave attempt for GOD's glory, our country's honour, the good example to others, our own deliverance, and (if we may not be counted vainglorious) our everlasting memory."
By that time he had finished this discourse also, the Master of the Bark and his company resolved to assist him: as projecting [foreseeing] the misery and wretchedness they should endure by being slaves to the Turks, and the happiness of their liberty besides the reputation of the enterprise. As for death, it was in community to all men: and so in the hands of GOD to dispose, at His pleasure; and either could not happen before the hour of limitation, or could not be prevented. For human policy must submit to Divine Providence.
Yet to shew himself an understanding man, he demanded of Rawlins, "What weapons he had? and in what manner he would execute the business?"
To which, he answered, that "He had ropes and iron hooks, to make fast the scottels, gratings, and cabins. He had also in the Gunner Room two curtleaxes, and the slaves had five crows of iron before them. Besides, in the scuffling, they made no question [of taking] of some of the soldiers' weapons."
Then for the manner, he told them, "They were sure of the ordnance, the Gunner Room, and the powder: and so blocking them up, would either kill them, as they came down; or turn the ordnance against their cabins, or blow them into the air by one stratagem or other." Thus were they contented, on all sides; and resolved to the enterprise.
The next morning, being the 7th of February, the prize of Torbay was not to be seen or found; whereat the Captain began to storm and swear, commanding Rawlins to search the seas up and down for her: who bestowed all that day in that business, but to little purpose; whereupon, when the humour was spent, the Captain pacified himself, as conceiting he should be sure to find her at Argier. But, by the permission of the Ruler of all actions, that Argier was England! and all his wickedness frustrated.
For Rawlins being now startled, lest he should return in this humour, for the Straits; the 8th of February went down into the hold, and finding a great deal of water below; told the Captain of the same: adding that "It did not come to the pump!" which he did very politicly, that he might remove the ordnance.
For when the Captain asked him the reason, he told him, "the ship was too far after the head."
Then, he commanded to use the best means he could, to bring her in order.
"Sure, then," quoth Rawlins, "we must quit our cables, and bring four pieces of ordnance after [abaft]; and that would bring the water to the pump." Which was presently put in practice.
So the pieces being usually made fast thwart the ship, we brought two of them, with their mouths right before the biticle [binnacle]. And because the Renegado Flemings would not begin [i.e., the fight]; it was thus concluded.
That the ship having three decks; we that did belong to the Gunner Room should be all there, and break up the lower deck. The English slaves, who always lay in the middle deck should do the like, and watch the scuttles. Rawlins himself prevailed with the Gunner, for so much powder as should prime the pieces: and so told them all, there was no better watchword, nor means to begin, than, upon the report of the piece, to make a cry and screech [shout], "For GOD, and King James!" and "St. George for England!"
When all things were prepared, and every man resolved, as knowing what he had to do; and the hour when it should happen, to be two in the afternoon: Rawlins advised the Master Gunner to speak to the Captain, that the soldiers might attend on the poop, which would bring the ship after [more aft]. To which the Captain was very willing; and upon the Gunner's information, the soldiers gat themselves to the Poop to the number of twenty; and five or six went into the Captain's cabin, where always lay divers curtleaxes and some targets [shields].
And so we fell to work to pump the water; and carried the matter fairly till the next day, which was spent as the former; being the 9th of February, and, as GOD must have the praise! the triumph of our victory.
For by that time, all things were prepared, and the soldiers got upon the Poop as the day before. To avoid suspicion, all that did belong to the Gunner Room went down; and the slaves in the middle deck, attended [to] their business. So that we may cast up our account in this manner.
First, nine English slaves, besides John Rawlins; five of the Torbay men and one boy; four English Renegadoes and two Dutch; four Hollanders: in all, four and twenty and a boy.
So that lifting up our hearts and hands to GOD, for the success of the business; we were wonderfully encouraged, and settled ourselves till the report of the piece gave us warning of the enterprise.
Now, you must consider that, in this company, were two of Rawlins's men, James Roe and John Davies, whom he brought out of England; and whom the fortune of the sea brought into the same predicament with their Master.
These were employed about noon, being, as I said, the 9th of February, to prepare their matches; while all the Turks, or at least most of them, stood on the Poop, to weigh down the ship as it were, to bring the water forward to the pump, the one brought his match lighted between two spoons, the other brought his, in a little piece of a can. And so, in the name of GOD! the Turks and Moors being placed as you have heard, and five and forty in number; and Rawlins having proined the touchholes: James Roe gave fire to one of the pieces, about two o'clock in the afternoon; and the confederates, upon the warning, shouted most cheerfully.
The report of the piece did tear and break down all the biticle and compasses; and the noise of the slaves made all the soldiers amazed at the matter: till seeing the quarter of the ship rent and feeling the whole body to shake under them; understanding the ship was surprised, and the attempt tended to their utter destruction, never bear robbed of her whelps was so fell and mad!
For they not only called us "Dogs!" and cried out "Usance de la mar," which is as much as to say, "The fortune of the wars!" but attempted to tear up the planks, setting a work hammers, hatchets, knives, the oars of the boat, boat-hook, their curtleaxes, and what else came to hand; besides stones and bricks in the Cook Room: all which they threw amongst us; attempting still and still, to break and rip up the hatches and boards of the steering, not desisting from their former execrations, and horrid blasphemies and revilings.
When John Rawlins perceived them so violent, and understood how the slaves had cleared the decks of all the Turks and Moors beneath; he set a guard upon the powder, and charged their own muskets against them: killing them from divers scout holes, both before and behind; and so lessened their number, to the joy of all our hearts.
Whereupon they cried out, and called for the Pilot: and so Rawlins, with some to guard him, went to them; and understood them, by their kneeling, that they cried for mercy and to have their lives saved; and they would come down; which he bade them do. And so they were taken one by one, and bound; yea, killed with their own curtleaxes. Which, when the rest perceived, they called us, "English dogs!" and reviled us with many opprobrious terms; some leaping overboard, saying, "It was the chance of war!" Some were manacled, and so thrown overboard: and some were slain and mangled with the curtleaxes; till the ship was well cleared, and ourselves assured of the victory.
At the first report of our piece, and the hurly burly in the decks; the Captain was writing in his cabin: and hearing the noise, thought it some strange accident; and so, came out with his curtleaxe in his hand, presuming by his authority to pacify the mischief.
But when he cast his eyes upon us, and saw that we were like to surprise the ship; he threw down his curtleaxe, and begged to save his life: intimating to Rawlins, "how he had redeemed him from Villa Rise; and ever since admitted him to place of command in the ship; besides honest usage in the whole course of the voyage."
All which Rawlins confessed; and at last, condescended [agreed] to mercy: and brought the Captain and five more into England.
The Captain was called Ramtham Rise; but his Christian name, Henry Chandler: and, as they say, a chandler's son in Southwark. John Goodale was also an English Turk. Richard Clarke, in Turkish, Jafar; George Cooke, Ramedam; John Browne, Mamme; William Winter, Mustapha: besides all the slaves and Hollanders; with other Renegadoes, who were willing to be reconciled to their true Saviour, as being formerly seduced with the hopes of riches, honour preferment, and such like devilish baits to catch the souls of mortal men and entangle frailty in the tarriers of horrible abuses and imposturing deceit.
When all was done, and the ship cleared of the dead bodies; John Rawlins assembled his men together, and with one consent gave the praise to GOD: using the accustomed Service on ship board: and, for want of books, lifted up their voices to GOD, as He put into their hearts or renewed their memories. Then, did they sing a Psalm; and, last of all, embraced one another, for playing the men in such a deliverance, whereby our fear was turned into joy, and trembling hearts exhilarated; that we had escaped such inevitable dangers, and especially the slavery and terror of bondage, worse than death itself!
The same night, we washed our ship, put everything in as good order as we could, repaired the broken quarter, set up the biticle, and bore up the helm for England: where, by GOD's grace and good guiding, we arrived at Plymouth, the 13th of February 1622; and were welcomed like the recovery of the lost sheep, or as you read of a loving mother that runneth, with embraces to entertain her son from a long voyage and escape of many dangers.
Not long after, we understood of our confederates that returned home in the bark of Torbay, that they arrived in Penzance in Cornwall, the 11th of February.
And if any ask after their deliverance, considering there were ten Turks sent to man her, I will tell you that too.
The next day after they lost us [i.e., 7th], as you have heard, the three Renegadoes had acquainted the Master's Mate and the two English in her, with Rawlins' determination; and that they themselves would be true to them, and assist them in any enterprise: then, if the worst came, there were but seven to six.
But, as it fell out, they had a more easy passage than turmoil and manslaughter. For they made the Turks believe the wind was come fair, and that they were sailing to Argier, till they came within sight of England: which one of them amongst the rest discovered, saying plainly, "that land was not like Cape St. Vincent!"
"Yes!" saith he that was at the helm, "and [if] you will be contented, and go down into the hold; and turn the salt over to windward, whereby the ship may bear full sail: you shall know and see more to-morrow!"
Whereupon five of them went down very orderly, the Renegadoes feigning themselves asleep; who presently start up, and with the help of the two English, nailed down the hatches. Whereat the principal amongst them much repined; and began to grow into choler and rage, had it not quickly been overpassed. For one stepped to him, and dashed out his brains; and threw him overboard.
The rest were brought to Exeter: either to be arraigned according to the punishment of delinquents in that kind, or disposed of as the King and Council shall think meet.
And this is the story of this Deliverance, and end of John Rawlins's voyage.
Now, gentle Reader! I hope you will not call in question the power and goodness of GOD, who, from time to time, extendeth His mercy to the miraculous preservation of His servants; nor make any doubt that He hath still the same arm and vigour as He had in times past, when Gideon's three hundred men overcame the Midianites: and many ancient stratagems are recorded to have had a passage of success, even within our memories, to execute as great a wonder as this. Nor do I think you will be startled at anything in the discourse touching the cruelty and inhumanity of Turks and Moors themselves: who, from a native barbarousness, do hate all Christians and Christianity; especially if they grow into the violent rages of piracy, or fall into that exorbitant course of selling of slaves, or enforcing of men to be Mahomedans.
Nor can I imagine, you will call in question our natural desire of liberty, and saving of our lives, when you see, from instinct of nature, all the creatures of the world come to the law of preservation: and our Saviour Himself, alloweth the flying out of one city into another, in the time of persecution; and Paul, by saying "He was a Roman!" procured his delivery.
Well, then, it is only the truth of the story that you are amazed at: making doubt whether your belief of the same may be bestowed to your own credit! I can say no more. The actors in this comic tragedy are most of them alive. The Turks are in prison! the ship is to be seen! and Rawlins himself dare justify the matter! For he hath presented it to the Marquis! a man not to be dallied withal in these things; nor any way to be made partaker of deceit.
Nay, I protest I think he durst not, for his ears! publish (concerning the substance) such a discourse to open overlooking, if it were not true! As for illustration, or cementing the broken pieces of well-tempered mortar, blame him not in that! For precious stones are worn enamelled and wrought in gold; which otherwise would still be of value and estimation; but published and receiving the addition of art and cunning, who doth not account [them] the better, and esteemeth himself the ruler for their possession.
So, then, entertain it for a true and certain discourse! Apply it! make use of it! and put it to thy heart for thy comfort! It teacheth the acknowledgment of a powerful, provident, and merciful GOD, who will be known in His wonders, and make weak things the instruments of His glory! It instructeth us in the practice of thanksgiving when a a benefit is bestowed, a mercy shown, and a deliverance perfected. It maketh us strong and courageous in adversity, like cordial restoratives to a sick heart; and our patience shall stand like a rock, against the impetuous assaults of affliction. It is a glorious sun to dissipate the clouds of desperation; and cheer us thus far that GOD can restore us, when we are under the pressure of discomfort and tribulation: for preferment comes neither from the East, nor the West; but from Him that holdeth the winds in His hands, and puts a hook in the nostrils of Leviathan.
So that if He do not give way to our contentment, it is because He will supply us with better graces, or keep us from the adder's hole of Temptation, whereat, if we tarry, we shall be sure to be stung unto death.
In a word, it is a Mirror to look Virtue in the face! and teach men the way to industry and noble performances; that a brave spirit and honest man shall say, with Nehemiah, "Shall such a man as I! fly? Shall I fear death or some petty trial; when GOD is to be honoured! my country to be served! my King to be obeyed! Religion to be defended! the Commonwealth supported! honour and renown obtained! and, in the end, the crown of immortality purchased?"
The names of those [four] English Renegadoes as consented, and joined with the Slaves, in the recovery of the Ship, were these:
Richard Clarke, the Gunner; called in Turkish, Jafar.
George Cooke, Gunner's Mate; called in Turkish, Ramedam.
William Winter, Carpenter; in Turkish, Mustapha.
John Browne, in Turkish, Memme.
One Dutch Renegado.
Four Dutch Slaves.
One French Slave.
Five Englishmen and a boy, taken but three days before.
Nine English Slaves, which they took with them from Argier.
In all twenty-four men and a boy: which were all safely landed at Plymouth, the 13th of February, 1621 [i.e., 1622].
They saved alive, of the forty-five Turks and Moors, the Captain, one Henry Chandler (born in Southwark), an English Renegado: and five Turks more, who are at this present in Plymouth Gaol, &c.
Lyrics, Elegies, &c. from Madrigals, Canzonets &c.
John Dowland, Bachelor of Music, &c., and Lutenist to Christian IV., King of Denmark.
The Third and Last Book of Songs or Airs.
1603.
To my honourable good Friend
JOHN SOUCH, Esquire:
for many courtesies, for which I embolden myself;
presuming of his good favour, to present
this simple work, as a token of my
thankfulness.
The estimation and kindness, which I have ever bountifully received from your favour, have moved me to present this novelty of Music to you: who, of all others, are fittest to judge of it, and worthiest out of your love, to protect it. If I gave life to these, you gave spirit to me! for it is always the worthy respect of others, that makes Art prosper in itself. That I may therefore possess, and make manifest to the world, your singular affection to me; and my grateful mind, in my weak ability, to you: I have here prefixed your honourable name, as a bulwark of safety and a title of grace; thinking myself no way able to deserve your favours more, than by further engaging myself to you, for this your noble presumed patronage. "He that hath acknowledged a favour," they say, "hath half repaid it!"; and if such payment may pass for current, I shall be ever ready to grow the one half out of your debt: though how that should be, I know not! since I owe myself, and more (if it were possible) unto you.
Accept me wholly then, I beseech you, in what terms you please! being ever, in my uttermost service,
Devoted to your Honour's kindness,
JOHN DOWLAND.
