Being come to our lodgings, there was such baking, boiling, roasting, and stewing, as if Cook Ruffian had been there to have scalded the devil in his feathers: and after supper a fire of fir-wood as high as an indifferent May-pole: for I assure you, that the Earl of Mar will give any man that is his friend, for thanks, as many fir trees (that are as good as any ship's masts in England) as are worth if they were in any place near the Thames, or any other portable river) the best earldom in England or Scotland either: For I dare affirm, he hath as many growing there, as would serve for masts (from this time to the end of the world) for all the ships, caracks, hoys, galleys, boats, drumlers, barks, and water-crafts, that are now, or can be in the world these forty years.
This sounds like a lie to an unbeliever; but I and many thousands do know that I speak within the compass of truth: for indeed (the more is the pity) they do grow so far from any passage of water, and withal in such rocky mountains, that no way to convey them is possible to be passable, either with boat, horse, or cart.
Thus having spent certain days in hunting in the Brae of Mar, we went to the next county called Badenoch, belonging to the Earl of Enzie, where having such sport and entertainment as we formerly had; after four or five days pastime, we took leave of hunting for that year; and took our journey toward a strong house of the Earl's, called Ruthven in Badenoch, where my Lord of Enzie and his noble Countess (being daughter to the Earl of Argyle) did give us most noble welcome three days.
From thence we went to a place called Balloch Castle,[1] a fair and stately house, a worthy gentleman being the owner of it, called the Laird of Grant; his wife being a gentlewoman honourably descended being sister to the right Honourable Earl of Athol, and to Sir Patrick Murray Knight; she being both inwardly and outwardly plentifully adorned with the gifts of grace and nature: so that our cheer was more than sufficient; and yet much less than they could afford us. There stayed there four days, four Earls, one Lord, divers Knights and Gentlemen, and their servants, footmen and horses; and every meal four long tables furnished with all varieties: our first and second course being three score dishes at one board; and after that always a banquet: and there if I had not forsworn wine till I came to Edinburgh I think I had there drunk my last.
The fifth day with much ado we gate from thence to Tarnaway, a goodly house of the Earl of Murrays,[2] where that Right Honourable Lord and his Lady did welcome us four days more. There was good cheer in all variety, with somewhat more than plenty for advantage: for indeed the County of Murray is the most pleasantest and plentiful country in all Scotland; being plain land, that a coach may be driven more than four and thirty miles one way in it, alongst by the sea-coast.
From thence I went to Elgin in Murray,[3] an ancient City, where there stood a fair and beautiful church with three steeples, the walls of it and the steeples all yet standing; but the roofs, windows, and many marble monuments and tombs of honourable and worthy personages all broken and defaced: this was done in the time when ruin bare rule, and Knox knocked down churches.
From Elgin we went to the Bishop of Murray his house which is called Spiny, or Spinay: a Reverend Gentleman he is, of the noble name of Douglas, where we were very well welcomed, as befitted the honour of himself and his guests.
From thence we departed to the Lord Marquess of Huntlys to a sumptuous house of his, named the Bog of Geethe, where our entertainment was like himself, free, bountiful and honourable. There (after two days stay) with much entreaty and earnest suit, I gate leave of the Lords to depart towards Edinburgh: the Noble Marquess, the Earl of Mar, Murray, Enzie, Buchan, and the Lord Erskine; all these, I thank them, gave me gold to defray my charges in my journey.
So after five and thirty days hunting and travel I returning, past by another stately mansion of the Lord Marquesses, called Stroboggy, and so over Carny mount to Brechin, where a wench that was born deaf and dumb came into my chamber at midnight (I being asleep) and she opening the bed, would feign have lodged with me: but had I been a Sardanapalus, or a Heliogabulus, I think that either the great travel over the mountains had tamed me; or if not, her beauty could never have moved me. The best parts of her were, that her breath was as sweet as sugar-candian,[4] being very well shouldered beneath the waste; and as my hostess told me the next morning, that she had changed her maiden-head for the price of a bastard not long before. But howsoever, she made such a hideous noise, that I started out of my sleep, and thought that the Devil had been there: but I no sooner knew who it was, but I arose, and thrust my dumb beast out of my chamber; and for want of a lock or a latch, I staked up my door with a great chair.
Thus having escaped one of the seven deadly sins as at Brechin, I departed from thence to a town called Forfor; and from thence to Dundee, and so to Kinghorn, Burntisland, and so to Edinburgh, where I stayed eight days, to recover myself of falls and bruises, which I received in my travel in the Highland mountainous hunting. Great welcome I had showed me all my stay at Edinburgh, by many worthy gentlemen, namely, old Master George Todrigg, Master Henry Livingston, Master James Henderson, Master John Maxwell, and a number of others, who suffered me to want no wine or good cheer, as may be imagined.
Now the day before I came from Edinburgh, I went to Leith, where I found my long approved and assured good friend Master Benjamin Jonson, at one Master John Stuarts house; I thank him for his great kindness towards me: for at my taking leave of him, he gave me a piece of gold of two and twenty shillings[5] to drink his health in England. And withal, willed me to remember his kind commendations to all his friends: So with a friendly farewell, I left him as well, as I hope never to see him in a worse estate: for he is amongst noblemen and gentlemen that know his true worth, and their own honours, where, with much respective love he is worthily entertained.
So leaving Leith I returned to Edinburgh, and within the port or gate, called the Nether-Bow, I discharged my pockets of all the money I had: and as I came pennyless within the walls of that city at my first coming thither; so now at my departing from thence, I came moneyless out of it again; having in company to convey me out, certain gentlemen, amongst the which Master James Acherson, Laird of Gasford, a gentleman that brought me to his house, where with great entertainment he and his good wife did welcome me.
On the morrow he sent one of his men to bring me to a place called Adam, to Master John Acmootye his house, one of the Grooms of his Majesty's Bed-chamber; where with him and his two brethren, Master Alexander, and Master James Acmootye, I found both cheer and welcome, not inferior to any that I had had in any former place.
Amongst our viands that we had there, I must not forget the Sole and Goose (sic), a most delicate fowl, which breeds in great abundance in a little rock called the Bass, which stands two miles into the sea. It is very good flesh, but it is eaten in the form as we eat oysters, standing at a side-board, a little before dinner, unsanctified without grace; and after it is eaten, it must be well liquored with two or three good rouses[6] of sherry or canary sack. The Lord or owner of the Bass doth profit at the least two hundred pound yearly by those geese; the Bass itself being of a great height, and near three quarters of a mile in compass, all fully replenished with wild fowl, having but one small entrance into it, with a house, a garden, and a chapel in it; and on the top of it a well of pure fresh water.
From Adam, Master John and Master James Acmootye went to the town of Dunbar with me, where ten Scottish pints of wine were consumed, and brought to nothing for a farewell: there at Master James Baylies house I took leave, and Master James Acmootye coming for England, said, that if I would ride with, that neither I nor my horse should want betwixt that place and London. Now I having no money nor means for travel, began at once to examine my manners and my want: at last my want persuaded my manners to accept of this worthy gentleman's undeserved courtesy. So that night he brought me to a place called Cockburnspath, where we lodged at an inn, the like of which I dare say, is not in any of his Majesty's Dominions. And for to show my thankfulness to Master William Arnot and his wife, the owners thereof, I must explain their bountiful entertainment of guests, which is this:
Suppose ten, fifteen, or twenty men and horses come to lodge at their house, the men shall have flesh, tame and wild fowl, fish with all variety of good cheer, good lodging, and welcome; and the horses shall want neither hay or provender: and at the morning at their departure the reckoning is just nothing. This is this worthy gentlemen's use, his chief delight being only to give strangers entertainment gratis: and I am sure, that in Scotland beyond Edinburgh, I have been at houses like castles for building; the master of the house his beaver being his blue bonnet, one that will wear no other shirts, but of the flax that grows on his own ground, and of his wife's, daughters', or servants' spinning; that hath his stockings, hose, and jerkin of the wool of his own sheep's backs; that never (by his pride of apparel) caused mercer, draper, silk-man, embroiderer, or haberdasher to break and turn bankrupt: and yet this plain home-spun fellow keeps and maintains thirty, forty, fifty servants, or perhaps, more, every day relieving three or fourscore poor people at his gate; and besides all this, can give noble entertainment for four or five days together to five or six earls and lords, besides knights, gentlemen and their followers, if they be three or four hundred men, and horse of them, where they shall not only feed but feast, and not feast but banquet, this is a man that desires to know nothing so much, as his duty to God and his King, whose greatest cares are to practise the works of piety, charity, and hospitality: he never studies the consuming art of fashionless fashions, he never tries his strength to bear four or five hundred acres on his back at once, his legs are always at liberty, not being fettered with golden garters, and manacled with artificial roses, whose weight (sometime) is the last reliques of some decayed Lordship: Many of these worthy housekeepers there are in Scotland, amongst some of them I was entertained; from whence I did truly gather these aforesaid observations.
So leaving Cockburnspath, we rode to Berwick, where the worthy old Soldier and ancient Knight, Sir William Bowyer, made me welcome, but contrary to his will, we lodged at an Inn, where Master James Acmootye paid all charges: but at Berwick there was a grievous chance happened, which I think not fit the relation to be omitted.
In the river of Tweed, which runs by Berwick, are taken by fishermen that dwell there, infinite numbers of fresh salmons, so that many households and families are relieved by the profit of that fishing; but (how long since I know not) there was an order that no man or boy whatsoever should fish upon a Sunday: this order continued long amongst them, till some eight or nine weeks before Michaelmas last, on a Sunday, the salmons played in such great abundance in the river, that some of the fishermen (contrary to God's law and their own order) took boats and nets and fished, and caught near three hundred salmons; but from that time until Michaelmas day that I was there, which was nine weeks, and heard the report of it, and saw the poor people's miserable lamentations, they had not seen one salmon in the river; and some of them were in despair that they should never see any more there; affirming it to be God's judgment upon them for the profanation of the Sabbath.
The thirtieth of September we rode from Berwick to Belford from Belford to Alnwick, the next day from Alnwick to Newcastle, where I found the noble Knight, Sir Henry Witherington; who, because I would have no gold nor silver, gave me a bay mare, in requital of a loaf of bread that I had given him two and twenty years before, at the Island oi Flores, of the which I have spoken before. I overtook at Newcastle a great many of my worthy friends, which were all coming for London, namely. Master Robert Hay, and Master David Drummond, where I was welcomed at Master Nicholas Tempests house. From Newcastle I rode with those gentlemen to Durham, to Darlington, to Northallerton, and to Topcliffe in Yorkshire, where I took my leave of them, and would needs try my pennyless fortunes by myself, and see the city of York, where I was lodged at my right worshipful good friend. Master Doctor Hudson one of his Majesty's chaplains, who went with me, and shewed me the goodly Minster Church there, and the most admirable, rare-wrought, unfellowed[7] chapter house.
From York I rode to Doncaster, where my horses were well fed at the Bear, but myself found out the honorable Knight, Sir Robert Anstruther at his father-in-law's, the truly noble Sir Robert Swifts house, he being then High Sheriff of Yorkshire, where with their good Ladies, and the right Honourable the Lord Sanquhar, I was stayed two nights and one day, Sir Robert Anstruther (I thank him) not only paying for my two horses' meat, but at my departure, he gave me a letter to Newark upon Trent, twenty eight miles in my way, where Master George Atkinson mine host made me as welcome, as if I had been a French Lord, and what was to be paid, as I called for nothing, I paid as much; and left the reckoning with many thanks to Sir Robert Anstruther.
So leaving Newark, with another gentleman that overtook me, we came at night to Stamford, to the sign of the Virginity (or the Maidenhead) where I delivered a letter from the Lord Sanquhar; which caused Master Bates and his wife, being the master and mistress of the house, to make me and the gentleman that was with me great cheer for nothing.
From Stamford the next day we rode to Huntington, where we lodged at the Postmaster's house, at the sign of the Crown; his name is Riggs. He was informed who I was, and wherefore I undertook this my pennyless progress: wherefore he came up to our chamber, and supped with us, and very bountifully called for three quarts of wine and sugar, and four jugs of beer. He did drink and begin healths like a horse-leech and swallowed down his cups without feeling, as if he had had the dropsy, or nine pound of sponge in his maw. In a word, as he is a post, he drank post, striving and calling by all means to make the reckoning great, or to make us men of great reckoning. But in his payment he was tired like a jade, leaving the gentleman that was with me to discharge the terrible shot, or else one of my horses must have lain in pawn for his superfluous calling, and unmannerly intrusion.
But leaving him, I left Huntington, and rode on the Sunday to Puckeridge, where Master Holland at the Falcon, (mine old acquaintance) and my loving and ancient host gave me, my friend, my man, and our horses excellent cheer, and welcome, and I paid him with, not a penny of money.
The next day I came to London, and obscurely coming within Moorgate, I went to a house and borrowed money: and so I stole back again to Islington, to the sign of the Maidenhead,[8] staying till Wednesday, that my friends came to meet me, who knew no other, but that Wednesday was my first coming; where with all love I was entertained with much good cheer: and after supper we had a play of the Life and Death of Guy of Warwick,[9], played by the Right Honourable the Earl of Derby his men. And so on the Thursday morning being the fifteenth of October, I came home to my house in London.
- ↑ Balloch Castle.—Now called Castle-Grant.
- ↑ Moray.
- ↑ Morayland.
- ↑ Sugar-Candian.—i.e., Sugar-candy.
- ↑ A Piece of Gold of Two-and-Twenty Shillings.—"This was a considerable present; but Jonson's hand and heart were ever open to his acquaintance. All his pleasures were social; and while health and fortune smiled upon him, he was no niggard either of his time or talents to those who needed them. There is something striking in Taylor's concluding sentence, when the result of his (Jonson's) visit to Drummond is considered:—but there is one evil that walks, which keener eyes than John's have often failed to discover.—I have only to add, in justice to this honest man (Taylor) that his gratitude outlived the subject of it. He paid the tribute of a verse to his benefactor's memory:—the verse indeed, was mean: but poor Taylor had nothing better to give."—Lt. Col. Francis Cunningham's edition of Gifford's Ben Jonson's Works, p. xli.
"In the summer of 1618 Scotland received a visit from the famous Ben Jonson. The burly Laureate walked all the way, among the motives for a journey then undertaken by few Englishmen, might be curiosity regarding a country from which he knew that his family was derived, his grandfather having been one of the Johnsons of Annandale. He had many friends too, particularly among the connections of the Lennox family, whom he might be glad to see at their own houses. Among those with whom he had amicable intercourse, was William Drummond, the poet, then in the prime of life, and living as a bachelor in his romantic mansion of Hawthornden, on the Esk, seven miles from Edinburgh. It is probable that Drummond and Jonson had met before in London, and indulged together in the "wit-combats" at the Mermaid and similar scenes. Indeed, there is a prevalent belief in Scotland that it was mainly to see Drummond at Hawthornden that Jonson came so far from home, and certain it is, from Drummond 's report of his 'Conversations,' that he designed 'to write a Fisher or Pastoral (Piscatory?) Play—and make the stage of it on the Lomond Lake—he also contemplated writing in prose his 'Foot Pilgrimage to Scotland,' which, with a feeling very natural in one who found so much to admire where so little had been known, he spoke of entitling 'A Discovery.' Unfortunately, this work, as well as a poem in which he called Edinburgh—has not been preserved to us. We can readily see that the work contemplated must have been of a general character, from Jonson's letters to Drummond on the subject of it. How much to be regretted that we have not the Scotland of that day delineated by so vigorous a pen as that of the author of Sejanus!'—Chambers' Domestic Annals of Scotland, vol. i.'The Heart of Scotland, Britain's other eye,'
Whether Taylor's "Penniless Pilgrimage" really did interfere with, and prevent the publication of Ben Jonson's 'Foot Pilgrimage' would now be difficult to say. It is very evident from Taylor's remarks in his Dedication "To all my loving adventurers, &c.," he had been accused by the critics that he "did undergo this project, either in malice, or mockage of Master Benjamin Jonson." It is quite certain that Taylor lost no time in getting his "Pilgrimage" printed "at the charges of the author" immediately on his return to London on the fifteenth of October 1618. - ↑ Rouse.—A full glass, a bumper.
- ↑ Unfellowed.—i.e., not matched.
- ↑ To Islington to the Sign of the Maidenhead.—This then roadside Public-house, we are informed from recent enquiries, was situate at the corner of Maiden Lane, Battle Bridge, now known as King's Cross, from a statue of George IV.—a most execrable performance—taken down 1842. The "Old Pub" is turned into a gin palace, and named the Victoria, while Maiden Lane—an ancient way leading from Battle Bridge to Highgate Hill—is known now as York Road.
- ↑ Guy of Warwick.—There are several versions and editions, of this work. In the book of the Stationers' Company, John Trundle—he at the sign of No-Body—on the 15th of January, 1619, entered "a play, called the Life and Death of Guy Earl of Warwick, written by John Day and Thomas Dekker." See Baker's Biog. Dram., page 274, vol. 2.—"Well, if he read this with patience I'll be gelt, and troll ballads for Master Trundle yonder, the rest of my mortality."—Ben Jonson's Every Man in his Humour, act i. sc. 2.