CHAP. I How in the Reign of King Henry the Firſt, Thomas of Reading, and many other honeſt wealthy Clothiers flouriſhed in the VVeſt and North. How in their way to London, the King met their great num­ber of VVains that ſtopped him; and upon the Speech of a VVain-driver, made a Law againſt treading down and ſpoiling the Corn. How Thomas of Reading made a Requeſt to him, and his Anſwer, &c.

WHen VVilliam Rufus who ſucceeded VVilliam the Conqueror in the Engliſh Throne, was killed as he hunted in New For­reſt, by an Arrow ſhot by Tyril, one of his Courtiers, which aimed at a Deer, and glancing on a Tree, gave the King his mortal Wound in the Side; his Brother Henry, ſirnamed from his great Learning and Wiſdom Beau Clark, or fine Scholar, winding him­ſelf by great Gifts and Promiſes into the Affections of the Engliſh and Norman Nobility, got himſelf crowned King, whilſt his eldeſt Brother Robert, to whom the Conqueror had left the Dukedome of Normandy, was warring againſt the Turks and Sarazens in the Holy Land, and by his Valour won Jeruſalem, of which City and the whole Country of Paleſtine the Chriſtian Princes would have crowned him King; but he refuſed it, and returning home to lay claim to England, a miſerable Fate or Misfortune befel him, as will appear in this Hiſtory in due place.

This Henry, called King Henry the Firſt, the better to ſupport him­ſelf in the Throne, made many good Laws, confirmed the great Char­ter of the Nation, and did ſuch things as made Trade encreaſe, and his Subjects flouriſh. He inſtituted the High Court of Parliament, which has ever ſince continued, to the great good of the Commonwealth. In his Reign the Cloathing Trade very much encreaſed, and our Mer­chants brought home great Wealth for Engliſh Cloth, it being highly valued and prized in all Countries; ſo that the younger Sons of Knights and Gentlemen to whom their Fathers could leave no Lands, were preferred to be Cloathiers, and in Riches often exceeded their elder Brothers: And among the Eminenteſt for Wealth and Good Breeding, of this Calling, were in thoſe Days Thomas Cole, commonly called Thomas of Reading, as there born, and keeping his Cloth Manufacture, it being a very fair Town in Barkſhire; Grey of Glouceſter, Sutton of Salisbury, Fitzallen of VVorceſter commonly called VVilliam of VVorceſter, Thomas Dove of Exeter in Devonſhire, Simon of Southam; of whoſe Induſtry and Riches, and the great Number of poor People they employed daily, King Henry hearing, ſtiled them The Six VVorthy Yeomen of the VVeſt, and that Epithete they carried to their Graves.

Beſides theſe there were others in the North who drove the ſame Trade, and did a great deal of good in the Land, viz Cuthbert of Kendale, Hodgkins of Hallyfax, and Martin Bryer of Mancheſter, each of theſe kept at leaſt Two hundred Servants at work, viz. Weavers, Fullers, Dyers, Carders, Spinners, Sheermen, Wool-pickers, Rowers, &c. killing each in his Houſe two fat Oxen, beſide a great many Sheep, Swine, and the like, for the well feeding their Families; ſo that in Houſe-keep­ing they outdid the beſt Gentlemen in the Counties where they lived; and theſe, to hold the better Correſpondency and ſettle the Prices of the Cloth, made an Agreement, under a Penalty of forfeiting 20 Pounds, to meet every VVhitſontide at London, and had their Warehouſe at Ge­rard's-Hall, which was then an Inn, and ſo named from a huge mon­ſtrous Fellow that kept it, Nine Foot high, with Hands like Shoulders of Mutton.

As they were on their way, their Wains laden with Cloth paſſed be­fore them, and made a Train like a huge Caravan, or the Baggage of a marching Army, ſtill encreaſing as the firſt called the next in the way, and ſo to the laſt, which was Thomas of Reading, who having highly feaſted them, ſet out with the reſt, his Wains going foremoſt, and being moſt in number; when ſo it happened, that the King, with the Prince his Son, and divers of his Nobility, were taking a Progreſs into VVales, to quiet the Welſh, who upon hearing that Robert Duke of Nor­mandy was arming to invade England, began to riſe in tumults, and making Inroads, did much Miſchief to the Engliſh on the Borders. He no ſooner perceived this great Train of Wains that reached over Hills and Valleys many Miles, but he began to wonder what it ſhould mean, thinking that ſome great Army was behind, and theſe as the Vauntguard were laden with Proviſion and Ammunition. Some of the timerous Nobles perſwaded him not to advance, for fear of an Ambuſh­ment they ſuppoſed theſe were ſent before to train him into, and ſo to ſur­prize and make his Royal Perſon a Priſoner; but he being of an un­daunted Courage, reſolved to paſs on, and meeting the foreſmoſt at the coming out of a narrow Lane, then ſome Miles long, (for ſince the ways have been alter'd,) he demanded what they were, and who they belonged to? The Drivers anſwered, To Cole of Reading, and that they were Laden to London with Woollen Cloath, all his own Manufacture, and ſo they anſwered, till Fifty were paſſed; then others came on, and every one as they paſſed declared who they belonged to, which made the King wonder England ſhould abound with ſuch Wealthy People, which he little thought before it had done; yet vexed to be delayed, for the Lane being very narrow, he was forced to ſtay two or thee hours before they all paſſed by, when one of the Drivers, not knowing him to be the King, per­ceiving him to frown, ſaid bluntly, Good Fellow, what, art thou in haſt? Pray ſtay, and let your Betters be ſerved before you; you are, I ſuppoſe, ſome Country 'Squire going a Hunting, to ſpoil poor People's Corn, and a fine paſs they are brought to; I hope, e'er long, the King's Grace will be informed of it, and Puniſh ſuch Knaves as trample down the Bread the Poor ſhould eat; and ſo paſſed by, without ſtaying for a Reply. But theſe Words thrown out by the Country Fellow, did afterwards a great deal of good to the Nation; for the King, upon his Return, made a Law to limit the times of Hunting and Hawking, under great Penalties, and that ſuch Exerciſes ſhould be forborn, till the Corn was off the Ground, that it might not be ſpoiled or waſted, for the pleaſure of any, were he never ſo Rich or Noble; and this in a good meaſure has held ever ſince; for before, the Noblemen and Gentlemen, not regarding the meaner ſort, trampled down their Fields at pleaſure, and procured them to be puniſheed as Mutiniers, when they fought Redreſs.

The Wains being all paſſed, and the way clear, the King rid on with his ſlender Train, and at the other end of the Lane met the Iolly Clothiers; Thomas of Reading knew him, as ſerving the Court with Cloath, and informed the reſt it was the King; whereupon inſtantly alight­ing, they tyed their Horſes to a Hawthorn-buſh, and kneeling, threw up their Caps, crying, God ſave His Majeſty. Vpon this, he demanded, Who they were? To which Thomas of Reading anſwered, in the Name of the reſt, they were Clothiers, and his Loyal Subjects, who would ſtand by him with their Lives and Fortunes againſt all his Enemies. The King hereupon bid them riſe, and demanded what they would ask of him? Vpon this, Thomas grew bolder, and ſaid, they had many Grie­vances to offer in behalf of themſelves and their fellow-Subjects, whom the Proud and Covetous Nobility oppreſſed and kept under, to the great hindrance of the flouriſhing of Trade, and of the Kingdom in general, but more particularly to His Majeſty's Coffers, which, if thoſe Lets were removed, would be ſtored with Gold and Silver. To this the King replyed, He heartily thanked them for their minding him of it; but being now upon a haſty Expedition, he muſt refer it to his Return from Wales; and ſo Commanding them to draw up their Grievances, and preſent them to him at London, he admitted them to kiſs his Hand, and ſo diſmiſſing them at this time, purſued his Iourney, ſaying to a Nobleman that rode near him, I ſee now plainly a Prince may hear and know more out of his Palace, than ever he is able to do in it; for there my Flatterers blind me from ſeeing into Affairs, by laying falſe Perſpectives before me, that they may gain their own Ends and Advan­tages on my well-meaning Subjects; but I perceive amongſt plain, down-right Men Truth is much ſooner to be found: And this Evil I will remedy as ſoon as I may, and ſtand in the Defence of them and this Country againſt all Oppoſers, whilſt I am able to wield my Sword, or to the laſt drop of my Blood. And ſo keeping his way, the Clothiers made theirs, with pleaſant Songs, and merry Chear, to London.

CHAP. II. How the Clothiers of the VVeſt and North met at Boſom's Inn at Lon­don: Of the Entertainment they met withal, and the Frolicks they had. How Cuthbert fell in Love with his Hoſteſs, and being taken napping by Old Boſom, was forced to pay an Hundred Pounds to ſave his Teſticles; with the intrigue of their VVooing, and by what Stra­tagem he was catched by the Husband.

VVHilſt all People were concerned at the Alarm the War threatned from Normandy by the Duke, had given this Land, our Iolly Clothiers keeping up their Courage, as being both Wiſe and Valiant, were reſolved not to abate of their wonted Mirth; and having ſeen their Cloth unladed, and lately ſtowed, they went to their uſual Inn, called to this day Boſom's Inn, from a greaſie old ſlovenly Fellow, that firſt built it, and then lived in it, who always went nudging with his Head in his Boſom, in thick furr'd Garments, Winter and Summer, ſo that many in deriſion called him the Emblem or Picture of Old Winter, with Iſicles at his Beard. This Old greaſie Bearward had a Liquoriſh Tooth, he had got a fine handſom Young Wife, who had married him for what he had, but for his Perſon, cared not if he was hanged out of the way, that ſhe might get a Young Husband, to pleaſe her to her heart's content.

Dinner ended, Tom Dove, who was ever the merrieſt in the Com­pany, propoſed to ſing a Song, which was agreed to, and thus he began.

Oh Pox, cries Old Boſom, I ſmell a Rat, this is a Banter upon me, becauſe I have marryed a Young Wife, but I'll warrant you I'll watch her Waters ſo narrowly, that I'll keep her from ever a Rabit-ſucker, or Coney-catcher of you all. Cuthbert perceiving the Old Blade to be nettled, winked at the reſt, and immediately changed the Diſcourſe to News, ſaying, He had heard that Earl Morgan was fled out of the Land, to avoid the King's Diſpleaſure, upon his being diſcovered to ſide with the Duke of Normandy. As for him, ſays Grey, it's no matter, he was a Covetous Wretch, he uſed to beg Lordſhips and Mannors of the King, and either diſpoſſeſs the Tenants quite, or hold them to Rack-Rents, its well we are rid of him: But my Heart bleeds for the Ge­nerous and Courteous Earl of Shrewsbury, whom, upon like Suſpicion, the King has baniſhed, ſeized on all he has, turned his poor Lady and Daughter out a begging, who now wander about in a miſerable Condi­tion, I wiſh I knew where and how to Relieve them.

Whilſt this Diſcourſe laſted, Drinking, and the noiſe of Fidlers that played without, had lulled Old Boſom aſleep, who hanging his Head down, ſnored like a Hog in a Sty. Cuthbert took this Opportunity to ſtep into the Kitchen, and make Love to his fine Hoſteſs, admiring ſhe would Marry ſuch a greaſie, Butcherly Beaſt, then gave her a Kiſs, and clapt an Angel into her hand, to buy her a pair of Gloves, pouring out his Amorous Paſſion, and the deſire he had to pleaſe her by Night or Day. At firſt ſhe ſeemed ſhy, as if ſhe underſtood not his meaning, but at laſt told him, ſince ſhe had been ſo unhappy to Marry one ſhe could not love, if he could handſomly contrive the matter, ſhe would grant his Suit. Then he told her, that Tom Dove blurting out an unlucky Song, had almoſt made Old Boſom jealous, and therefore, to take away all ſuſpicion for the future, ſhe muſt give him leave in her Husband's preſence, with­out taking Offence at it, to rally her, and ſhe ſhew an inveterate hatred, and utter diſlike of him, the better to blind the Old Iealous Coxcomb, that he ſhould not ſuſpect their Love, and they acted it as occaſion offered ſo to the Life, that it ſucceeded for a time to their wiſh; for ſhe often threatned to ſcald him out of the Kitchen, or run him through with the Spit, when he called her Draggle-tail, and dirty Sow, wondring that ſuch an honeſt, grave Man, as her Husband, could find in his heart to love ſuch a dowdy Puſs; ſo that her ſéeming Anger made the Old Man chide her often, for abuſing one of his beſt Gueſts, ſaying, At this rate ſuch a Goſſip as ſhe would ſcare all his Cuſtomers from his Houſe, and then they might both go hang themſelves. However, he had a little Suſpi­tion of Tom Dove, who, to humour the matter, would be Frolickſom, and Ieſt with her, and ſhe would do the like with him. At Night the London Merchants came to pay a Viſit to the Clothiers, bringing Wine and Delicacies with them, ſuch as the Inn afforded not; the Glaſſes went round, and they were exceeding merry. But in the height of the Iollity, Cuthbert being intent on the Love of his fair Hoſteſs, left them to ſee if he could ſpeak with her in private, and appoint an Aſſignation to con­ſummate their Deſires. It was now Twilight, and he perceived her walking at the lower end of the Yard, ſo he ſlily made up to her, and catching her about the Neck, gave her many Amorous Kiſſes; ſhe ſeeing who it was, haſtily retired into a little Shed or Hovel, leading him by the hand; and being entred, ſhutting faſt the Door, gave him a Kiſs, ſaying, Now take your Opportunity, I yield to your Embraces, and tho' the Place be ſomething Incommodious, poor Lovers muſt make a hard ſhift to reap the Fruits of their Deſires.

Cuthbert, who was a Man of Mettle, only replyed with Kiſſes, and immediately fell on board her; but as Ill Luck would have it, the Houſe of Office ſtanding in a corner of this Place, when they were in the height of their Amorous Delight, Old Boſom, having ſtuffed his Guts like a Cloak bag, came wallowing to empty his Load, and wondring to find the Door ſhut, being in haſte, rap'd and called out, Who, in the De­vil's Name, is here? Open the Door quickly, or I ſhall diſcharge in my Breeches. The Lovers knowing his hated Voice, were much ſtart­led and ſurprized; but there being no Remedy, Cuthbert fiercely reply'd It is I, what would you have? None ſhall come in here till I have done my Buſineſs. There are two holes, ſays Boſom, and one I think may ſerve your turn. There are ſo, ſays Cuthbert, but as it now ſtrange­ly falls out, one is grievouſly beſhit, and I am in the other, therefore ſhift ſomewhere elſe. This ſatisfied him, and immediately he haſled to the Dunghil, and turning up his beaſtly But-end, diſcharged at leaſt half a Peck. As he was retreating from thence, at ſome diſtance he fancied, by the imperfect Light, he eſpyed a Woman ſtep out of the Hovel, and ſlip in at the back door of the Houſe contrary to where he was. This, though he could not charge it certain, with the denyal of Entrance gave him Suſpicion there had been Foul Play; however, he ſeemed to take no notice, till he might be better aſſured: And ſo ſtepping out, he got a Letter to be writ, and carried to his Wife by a Porter, who was in­ſtructed to tell her, that he brought it from Weſtminſter. When ſhe read it, ſhe rejoyced, for it imported, that her Husband's Rich Brother lay a Dying, and had ſent for him to watch with him that Night; and in his abſence ſhe doubted not but to have her fill of Pleaſure with Cuthbert, though before ſhe had been diſturbed in the midſt of it.

She ſoon told Cuthbert of this, who was overjoyed that ſhe had ſwal­lowed it ſo eaſily. He no ſooner read the Letter, but called for his Horſe and Aqua-vitae Bottle, giving her a Kiſs as in Kindneſs, bidding her be careful of the Houſe, for he was certain he ſhould ſtay all Night, and ſo they parted. Then he carried his Horſe to another Inn, having be­fore ſet a Spy upon his Wife, viz. the Chamberlain, who would fain have had a lick at her Honey-pot; but ſhe diſdaining him, his Love turned to Envy and Hatred, reſolving none ſhould enjoy, if he could help it, that which himſelf was denyed: He ſate up, watching his Ma­ſter's Return, which he failed not to do when he ſuppoſed his Gueſt and Wife were in bed; and being let in by him, who aſſured him there was a Man in her Chamber, he, enraged with Iealouſie, blundered up ſtairs; his Wife firſt heard him, knowing his tread, and ordered Cuthbert im­mediately to riſe, and get up the Chimney, and ſtride a croſs the Bar, till ſhe found an Opportunity to further his eſcape to his own Chamber: this he did in ſuch haſt, that he left his Cloaths, but ſhe conveyed them between the Bed and the Mat: By this time Boſom entred the Chamber, ſaying, My Dear, I am come ſooner than I thought, for my Brother was only in a Fit, and recovered before I came there. Then peeping under the Bed, as for the Chamber-Pot, he eſpied a Sack-Poſſet, but took no notice of it, ſeeing no body there. Then, made excuſes to look in other Places, and at laſt, peeping ſlightly up the Chimney, ſaw Cuth­bert's naked Feet dangling down. The Good Woman fearing a Diſco­very, urged him to come to Bed: But he told her, his Horſe had ſtum­bled, and thrown him in a wet Plaſh, and he muſt have a Fire to dry him before he would do it. Immediately calling for Faggots, a Fire was kindled, which as it burnt up, ſmothered and almoſt roaſted Cuth­bert, though by the help of his Breath and Piſſing he endeavoured to hinder its Smoak and Heat, ſo that for fear of being marryred, he cryed out lamentably. Boſom upon this, peeping up, cryed out, Thieves, Thieves; whereupon his Servants came running up, dragged him down, buffeted him ſeverely ▪ and by Boſom's Order bound him to the Bed poſt. The Good Woman ſeeing him draw his Knife, leaped out of Bed, fell on her Knees, and implored Mercy for him, for it was Mr. Cuthbert the Clothier. O then, replyed he, I know his Buſineſs here, and your Cavils were to blind me; however, I'll be merciful, I'll ſpare his Life, but out go his Stones, I'll teach him to Caterwawl with my Wife. And he had certainly done it, had not Cuthbert given a Bond of 100 l. to releaſe him. His Wife he confined to her Chamber for a Month with Bread and Water, to tool her Letchery, as he ſaid. And this was not done ſo ſecretly, but by the meanes of ſome of the Ser­vants, the other Clothiers came to know of it, which made them laugh heartily, and Cuthbert was jeered ever after, for looking Swallows Neſts at ſuch a time of Night in the Chimney, and runnin•the hazard of ſinding his Tail: But he put it off as well as he could.

CHAP. III. How the Clothiers made their Addreſs to the King to Redreſs Grie­vances, and had their Deſires granted. Of the Merriment they had in their way home. How their Wives hearing what a brave Town London was, would needs ſee it: How they were Entertained by the Merchants Wives, and at their Return home longed for fine Cloaths, &c.

THE Iolly Clothiers having ſold their Cloath to a good Advantage, and received much Money, hearing the King had quieted the Welſh­men, and was returned to his Palace, remembring what he had ſaid to them, and their Promiſe to attend him, reſolved to be as good as their Words, expecting Advantage thereby from his Grace and Favour, not only for themſelves, but for the People in general. And having drawn up what they thought fit, they ſpruced up themſelves, and went to caſt themſelves at his Feet, as hearing in a little time he was to go over the Sea with a great Army againſt Lewis the French King, and his Brother Robert, thereby to find them Work at home, and prevent their Landing in England, and leave the Biſhop of Salisbury Regent at home, they concluded to take the firſt Opportunity, and were ſoon ad­mitted to the Preſence.

The King knowing they were come, placed himſelf in his Royal Robes, with his Nobles about him, making a Glorious Shew, and Commanding them, without fear or favour of any, from the greateſt to the leaſt, boldly and freely to ſpeak what they had to ſay. Thomas of Reading, who was appointed to ſpeak for them, having made his Ma­jeſty a Preſent of each Man a Hundred Pounds, which amounted to Nine Hundred in all, praying him to accept of it from his Dutiful Sub­jects, to enable him to def•nd the Realm, and carry on the War, look­ing on his Paper, ſaid, We Humbly beſeech Your Majeſty, that there may be a ſettled Meaſure for Cloath throughout the Land, to prevent Differences and Difficulties ariſing in ſeveral Cl•ath-working Towns, by reaſon of the uncertainty of Meaſuring. This ſhall be done, ſaid the King; and thereupon cauſed his own Arm to be meaſured, ſaying, This ſhall be the Standard-meaſure, and ſo I eſtabliſh it, diſannulling all other, as unlawful; and from that time it has been called, the Cloath Yard. Then, becauſe there was a great deal of crack'd Money in the Nation, which many refuſed, and therefore it hindred the Circle of Trade, he deſired, in the Name of his Brethren, that the King would be pleaſed to iſſue out his Royal Proclamation, that it might paſs in Payments without controul. Nay, honeſt Clothiers, replyed the King, I will do better than that; I will Command by my Proclamation none but crack'd Money ſhall go, and then thoſe that have whole Money, will be obliged to track it, and then there will appear no difference.

The next Demand was, That ſuch as were taken ſtealing their Cloath, when it was on the Tenters in the Fields, might be hanged; for though they were at a vaſt Charge in watching of it, yet little fear of the Puniſhment, which was but a Whipping matter, made Thieves bold, and in great Companies ſet upon thoſe that watched it, and take it by force. To this the King promiſed he would procure ſuch a Law to be made, as ſoon as the Parliament ſitting had diſpatched the weighty Affairs of the Nation, and accordingly it was made; but then Hanging was ſo ſtrange a Death in England, that when they took Malefactors, and brought them to the Place of Execution, they could not get a Hang­man for Money or Entreaty, no, nor by threats of Puniſhment, upon Refuſal; ſo that they were forced to let them go, unleſs they would have hanged them themſelves, which they often did, for fear of incurring the ha­tred of the People, by being too cruel to their Fellow-Creatures. But Hodgkins loſing much, and being impatient at their Impunity, contrived with a Monk to frame an Engine at Hallifax to cut off their Heads with­out the help of a Man; for their Heads were no ſooner in, but a Spring running, upon their touching it, a ſharp Iron bore forcibly down, and whipt them off, and this awed Offenders. But to return: The King, at their Requeſt, forbid Commons to be encloſed by Rich Men, leaving them to the Poor; called Oppreſſors to Account, and puniſhed many of them by Fine and Impriſonment: And then ordered the two Princes his Sons, viz. William and Robert, to treat the Clothiers ſumptuouſly in his Palace, ſaying, He ſhould from that time eſteem them amongſt the beſt of his Subjects; and ſo they were highly feaſted with Wine, Veni­ſon, and other Delicacies. But Simon of Southampton, being a great admirer of Broth, preferred it before all, which made one of the Princes jeſtingly ſay, Sup, Simon, it's very good Broth; and from thence came the Proverb.

When they had been well Entertained, to their hearts content, they took their Leave, and rode to the Town, that is now called Colebrook, from the Murther of Cole, as ſhall be hereafter related. As for their Wains, they were gone before. And here at an Inn they uſually made Merry in their coming and returning from London: Nor wanted they the Company of the mens Wives of the Town to bear them Com­pany, and be Merry with them, who were ſo extreamly taken with Tom Dove's Merry Pranks, that no ſooner they heard he was come, but they would give their Husbands the ſlip, and run to him like Chickens to a Hen, and in praiſe of him made this Song, which was afterwards ſung all over the Country.

Having continued their Merriment here as long as they thought fit, the Women refuſing to leave their Company, though their Husbands often ſent for them, it was thought fit they ſhould return home, and at Reading they parted. Every one arriving at his Houſe, told their Wives how they had been Entertained, and what a fine Town London was, which ſet them ſo agog, that they would have no Nay, but ſent Letters, as if they jumped all in a Mind, to meet at Cole's in Reading, take his Wife with them, and hey for London Town. To all their Husbands diſſwaſions they turned a deaf Ear, thinking a Days, and dreaming a Nights of their pleaſant Iourney, and the Frollicks they expected. So their Husbands finding it in vain, do what they could, to diſſwade them from their headſtrong Humour, gave way to it, and every one had a ſtately Palfrey, and their beſt Apparel, car­rying Letters of Recommendation to Merchants, to receive, enter­tain, and ſhew the Bravery of Court and City. And though the Huſ­bands Buſineſs was urgent, that they could not accompany them, they had by Agreement every one a Iourney-man Weaver to ride before them; and ſo with full Purſes to bear their Expences, to Thomas of Reading's they came, who highly feaſted them, and ordering his Wife to Accompany them, to London they rode. The Merchants, upon their Arrival, En­tertained them with all the Civility and Treatment imaginable, their Wives accompanyed them to Court, and ſhewed them what was rare to be ſeen; in the City, Shops full of Silks, Stuff, Plate, Iewels, &c. which made them wonder any Place ſhould be ſo Rich, they having never ſeen the like before.

Whilſt the Merchants Wives thus welcomed the Miſtreſſes, the Lon­don Weavers in Candlewick-ſtreet, then full of them, and Cheapſide, did the like by the Iourney-men, plying them with Liquor luſtily, and ma­ny Wagers were lay'd on both ſides, who worked quickeſt and beſt, ſome of which the Country-men loſt, and ſome the Londoners. And ſo having ſeen all of Rarity that the Town could afford, the Merchants Wives preſented the Women with many fine Knacks, and the Merchants ſent Tokens by them to their Husbands. The London Weavers preſented the Country Weavers with Merry Songs, Pipes, and Ribbons. So that pleaſed on all hands, they returned wonderfully ſatisfied, and thought the Money in the Iourney well laid out. Yet herein an Inconveniency followed to the Clothiers, for their Wives having ſeen the Gallantry of the City Dames, fell into diſdain of Sheeps Ruſſet, and knowing their Husbands Ability, never left off leading them weary Lives, till they had Cloaths ſent for from London, no Argument to the contrary ſigni­fying a Pin's Point; nor could any but London Taylors ever after that pleaſe them.

CHAP. IV. How the Good Earl of Shrewsbury being baniſhed, his Counteſs and•air Daughter came to miſerable Poverty, deſpiſed by their own Te­nants. How Grey's Wife took the Lady Margaret into her Service. How the Duke of Normandy fell in Love, and attempting to Eſcape with her, had his Eyes put out. How ſhe turned Nun, and was made Abbeſs: With other Matters.

I Have already ſpoken ſomething of the Baniſhment of the Good Earl of Shrewsbury, who in his Proſperity was a good Benefactor to the Poor though few in their Diſtreſs would aſſiſt his Counteſs, or Beauti­ful Margaret his only Daughter; ſome pretending they durſt not, for f••r of the Kings's Diſpleaſure, others deſpiſing them now fallen from a High Degree to a low Eſtate, as is uſual with Ingrateful People in ſuch Caſes; and thoſe whom they had done moſt for, moſt ſlighted them. So that the ſorrowful Counteſs, worn out with Grief, and pined with Want, died in a Farmer's Out-houſe, who had formerly been her Te­nant, for ſhe was not admitted into the Dwelling-houſe. This great Affliction, in the loſs of ſo dear and tender a Mother, drew Floods of Tears from her fair Daughter's Eyes: She fell upon the dead Body at the homely Grave it was put in, upbraiding Fortune's Fickleneſs, and accuſing the cruel Deſtinies of too much Severity, deſiring them to throw the Earth on her, and bury her with her dear tender Mother, to that they were conſtrained to take her away by force; then falling into a dead•y ſw•••they conveyed her to the Farmer's Houſe, and gave her comfort•ble things to revive her Spirits, but it ceaſed not her Lamen­tations. Whereupon the Farmer's Wife, who had ſo often been fed and relieved at the good Earl's Table, and under him had got all they had, ſaid, Carry this puling Baggage out of my Houſe, I wonder what a Murrain you brought her hither to trouble me for. •ay, ſaid the Farmer, Wife, let her ſtay here, for though I know ſhe cannot do any hard Work, being brought up renderly, ſhe may do us ſome Service, in keeping our Sheep.

Theſe Words cut the poor Lady to the Heart, and without ſaying any thing, ſhe went out of the Houſe, reſolving to go to remote Parts of the Country, where none knew her, and truſt in God's Mercy to help her in her Miſery. Blouze, the Farmer's Wife, was glad of her De­parture; for ſhe being ugly her ſelf, and the young Lady exc•eding beautiful, grew jealous of her Husband as ſoon as he ſpoke in her be half, and began to fling and tear like a Fiend of He•l. The young La­dy having left theſe ungrateful People, put forth her Strength, and though weaker, travelled out of Shropſhire into Glouceſterſhire, feeding on Berries, and drinking the Waters of clear Springs, till at length, weary and faint, ſhe ſate down upon a Stone by the way ſide, and fell afreſh to lament her hard Fortune; when it chanced ſome young Maidens came by, and ſeeing her in that plight, compaſſionated her, ma•ing ſ•­veral Conjectures of the Cauſe; one ſaying, It muſt needs be Love that has brought her into this diſtreſs. Like enough, ſaid another; for I my ſelf was once almoſt at ſuch a paſs, but thank my Stars, I weathered it, and kicked it away with my Heel. Then they began to ask her ſeveral Queſtions, which ſhe anſwered ſo courte•••y and mo­deſtly, that they admired at it, proffering her Victuals and Drink, which they had in their Handkerchiefs and Bottles, for their Day's Subſiſtance, which pinching Hunger conſtrained her to accept; and being refreſhed, her fading Colour returned, and looked in her homely Dreſs (for her rich Ornaments had long before been laid aſide) like a little Angel: At length ſhe demanded whither they were going? They told her, to Glou­ceſter Fair, to be hired for Servants; and if ſhe was out of Place, as by her Diſcontent ſhe ſeemed to be, if ſhe would go with them, ſhe might get a good Service, and that if ſhe behaved her ſelf well in it, it might in time prefer her to ſome honeſt Country Fellow for her Hus­band. This made her ſmile, and then pauſing a little, thinking it bet­ter to live a Servant than wander ſo forlorn up and down, and that in deſart places her Beauty might betray her Modeſty and Chaſtity to the Luſt of ſome brutal Villain, ſhe approved their Counſel, and away they went together.

Now as ſhe was ſtanding in the Fair, Grey's Wife came to hire Servants, though ſhe had many already, and wiſhfully beholding fair Margaret's modeſt Countenance and behaviour, came to her, and ſaid, Maid, are you willing to be hired? She replied, Yes, good Dame, if you pleaſe, and I ſhall be willing to do any thing I am able or capable of. Well ſaid, replied Dame Grey; then, Sweetheart, come along with me; if you are willing, I ſhall be as willing to inſtruct you where you are ignorant; you ſhall be well provided for, and I will give Sta­tute Wages to boot.

Both Parties agreed, ſhe carried her home, and ſet her to carding Wool. Grey at Night came from Market, and hearing his Wife had hired a new Servant, ſent for her to ſee her; her Beauty at firſt ſight dazled his Eyes, ſo that he cried out to his Wife, That ſhe had, he thought, brought all the Fair home with her. Why ſo? ſays ſhe. Why, replied he, I never ſaw one fairer in my Life! At this the good Wo­man was nettled, and began to grow jealous, intending in her Hus­band's Abſence privately to ſend her away; but after, ſeeing her Dili­gence, modeſt Behaviour, and chaſt Carriage, ſhe concluded ſhe could not be tempted to evil, and therefore altered her Reſolution, preferring her above the reſt of her Maids, and tendering her as dear as her own Children.

Whilſt ſhe ſtayed here, the King had fought a great Battle in Nor­mandy, with Duke Robert his Brother, taken him Priſoner, and ſeized his Country, and returning, brought him with him, committing him a Priſoner at large to Cardriff Caſtle: (for he had liberty with his Keep­ers to Hawk. Hunt, and follow other Princely Paſtimes;) when one Day coming to Glouceſter, Grey invited him and his Train to a ſplendid Entertainment, and afterward ſhewed him his People at work; when among the Maids the Duke caſting his Eyes on beautiful Margaret, ſtood in a maze to ſee ſo fair a Creature in ſuch a place, and fell deſperately in love with her, but concealed it at that time. Grey's Son was like­wiſe extreamly enamour'd of her, and indeed every one that ſaw her fell in love with her; but in her low Condition remembring her high Birth, ſhe gave no Countenance to any, till the Duke by Letter, and ſecret Meſſages, made his Love known to her, and after that, often they met in a neighbouring Foreſt, two or three Miles from the Town, and ſhe received from him, with a ſolemn Promiſe of his honourable Love and entire Affection, a Diamond Ring, with many other Princely Pre­ſents; and the Deſire ſhe had to ſee her Father, enclined her the ſooner to conſent, for ſhe heard he was in France, and the Duke propoſed to ſlip from his Guard in the next Hunting, and meet her in that Foreſt, and convey her thither, where he would marry her in much Princely State: His manly Proportion, Beauty, and Courage, likewiſe fortified her in her Reſolution, to commit her ſelf to his Care and Conduct; and he failed not, at the••me appointed, with two truſty Servants, and a Horſe for her to ri••on, to meet her, and ſhe mounted, they poſted away to the Sea-ſide; but no ſhipping being ready to go off, they waited ſo long, that the Noiſe of his Eſcape being brought to the King's Ear, ſuch ſtrict Search was made, that he was found, and the fair Lady in his company: But ſetting himſelf before her, he drew his Sword, and ſternly commanded his Purſuers not to advance a Step, for if they did, they muſt come on the point of it; but they being a multitude, in hopes of Reward preſſed forward to ſeize him, when the Duke ſo layed man­fully about him, that nine or ten of them were ſlain, the reſt beat off, many wounded, with a Cry raiſing the whole Country, his Servants ſlain in his Defence, he at laſt with the beautious Margaret, was taken Priſoner, and both carried back to Cardiff Caſtle, till the King's Plea­ſure ſhould be put out with Burning-glaſſes, and the Maid which he believed had enticed him to eſcape, ſhould be put to death by ſtrangling. This cruel Sentence being noiſed abroad, Grey's Wife underſtood that it was her dear Margaret that was doomed to die, whoſe Abſence ſhe had mourned ever ſince ſhe was miſſing. This brought her almoſt to di­ſtraction; but taking more ſober Advice, ſhe for a good Summ got the Execution of the Sentence on both delayed, and writing to all the Clo­thiers Wives to haſt to London, and meet her there, letting them know the Occaſion; they failed not to do it, and going in their richeſt Appa­rel to the Palace, falling at the King's Feet, Grey's Wife ſhedding abundance of Tears, humbly beſought His Highneſs to ſpare the Life of her poor innocent Maid whom the Love of the Duke his Brother had cauſed to fall under his Diſpleaſure, and by him to be ſentenced to death, The King upon this demanded who they were? and when he underſtood they were the Clothiers Wives, he bid them ſtand up, and asking them many Queſtions, hearing what a vertuous beautiful Maid ſhe was, he was moved with Compaſſion towards her, and granted her Pardon, for Life and Liberty, but would in no wiſe do it for the Duke, fearing at one time or other he might effectually eſcape and raiſe fierce Wars a­gainſt him, and withal ſtrictly commanded that the Maid for her Pre­ſumption ſhould be puniſhed by ſeeing his Eyes put out.