The Sixteenth Song

Olde Ver, neere to Saint Albans, brings
Watling to talk of auncient things;
What Verlam was before she fell,
And many more sad ruines tell.
Of the foure old Emperiall Waies,
The course they held, and too what Seas;
Of those seauen Saxon Kingdomes here,
Their sites, and how they bounded were.
Then Pure-vale vants her rich estate:
And Lea bewraies her wretched Fate.
The Muse, led on with much delight,
Deliuers Londons happy site;
Showes this loose Ages leud abuse:
And for this time there staies the Muse.

THe Brydall of our Tame and Princely Isis past:
And Tamesis their sonne, begot, and wexing fast,
Inuiteth Crystall Colne his wealth on him to lay,
Whose beauties had intic't his Soueraine Tames to stay,
Had he not been inforc't, by his vnruly traine.
For Brent, a pretty Brook, allures him on againe,
Great London to salute, whose hie-rear'd Turrets throng
To gaze vpon the Flood, as he doth passe along.
Now, as the Tames is great, so most transparent Colne
Feeles, with excessiue ioy, her amorous bosome swolne,
That Ver of long esteem'd, a famous auncient Flood
(Vpon whose aged Bank olde Verlamchester stood,
Before the Roman rule) here glorify'd of yore,
Vnto her cleerer banks contributed his store;
Enlarging both her streame, and strengthening his renowne,
Where the delicious Meads her through her course doe crown.
This Ver (as I haue said) Colnes tributary brook,
On Verlams ruin'd walles as sadly he doth look,
Neere Holy Albans Towne, where his rich shrine was set,
Old Watling in his way the Flood doth ouer-get.
Where after reuerence done, Ver quoth the Ancient Street
Tis long since thou and I first in this place did meet.
And so it is quoth Ver, and we haue liu'd to see
Things in farre better state then at this time they be:
But he that made, amend: for much their goes amisse.
Quoth Watling, gentle flood, yea so in truth it is:
And sith of this thou speakst; the very sooth to say,
Since Great Mulmutius, first, made me the noblest Way,
The soyle is altered much: the cause I pray thee showe.
The time that thou hast liu'd, hath taught thee much to knowe.
I faine would vnderstand, why this delightfull place,
In former time that stood so hie in Natures grace
(Which bare such store of graine, and that so wondrous great,
That all the neighboring Coast was cald the soyle of wheate)
Of later time is turn'd a hotte and hungry sand,
Which scarce repayes the seed first cast into the the Land.
At which the silent brooke shrunk-in his siluer head,
And fain'd as he away would instantly haue fled;
Suspecting, present speech might passed griefe renew.
Whom Watling thus againe doth seriously pursue;
I pray thee be not coy, but answere my demand:
The cause of this (deer Flood) I faine would vnderstand.
Thou saw'st when Verlam once her head aloft did beare
(Which in her cinders now lies sadly buried heere)
With Alablaster, Tuch, and Porphery adorn'd,
When (welneare) in her pride great Troynouant she scorn'd.
Thou sawest great-burthen'd Ships through these thy valleyes pass,
Where now the sharp-edg'd Sithe sheeres vp the spyring grasse:
That where the vgly Seale and Porpose vs'd to play,
The Grashopper and Ant now lord it all the day:
Where now Saint Albans stands was called Holme-hurst then;
Whose sumptuous Fane we see neglected now agen.
This rich and goodly Fane which ruind thou doest see,
Quoth Ver, the motiue is that thou importun'st me:
But to another thing thou cunningly doest flie,
And reason seem'st to vrge of her sterilitie.
With that he fetcht a sigh, and ground his teeth in rage;
Quoth Ver euen for the sin of this accursed Age.
Behold that goodly Fane, which ruind now doth stand,
To holy Albon built, first Martyr of the Land;
Who in the faith of Christ from Rome to Britanne came,
And dying in this place, resign'd his glorious Name.
In memory of whom, (as more then halfe Diuine)
Our English Offa rear'd a rich and sumptuous shrine
And Monastary heere: which our succeeding kings,
From time to time endow'd with many goodly things.
And many a Christian Knight was buried heere, before
The Norman set his foote vpon this conquered shore;
And after those braue spirits in all those balefull stowres,
That with Duke Robert went against the Pagan powers,
And in their Countries right at Cressy those that stood,
And that at Poyters bath'd their bilbowes in French blood;
Their valiant Nephewes next at Agin-court that fought,
Whereas rebellious France vpon her knees was brought:
In this religious house at some of their returns,
When nature claym'd her due, here plac't their hallowed vrnes:
Which now deuowring Time, in his so mighty waste,
Demolishing those walls, hath vtterly defac't.
So that the earth to feele the ruinous heaps of stones,
That with the burth'nous weight now presse their sacred boanes,
Forbids this wicked brood, should by her fruits be fed;
As loathing her owne womb, that such loose children bred.
Herewith transported quite, to these exclaimes he fell:
Liues no man, that this world her grieuous crimes dare tell?
Where be those noble spirits for ancient things that stood?
When in my prime of youth I was a gallant flood;
In those free golden dayes, it was the Satyres vse
To taxe the guilty times, and raile vpon abuse:
But soothers find the way preferment most to win;
Who seruing Great mens turnes, become the bauds to sin.
When Watling in his words that tooke but small delight,
Hearing the angry Brook so cruelly to bite;
As one that faine would driue these fancies from his mind,
Quoth he, Ile tell thee things that sute thy gentler kind.
My Song is of my selfe, and my three sister Streets,
Which way each of vs runne, where each her fellow meets,
Since vs, his Kingly Waies, Mulmutius first began,
From Sea, againe to Sea, that through the Iland ran.
Which that in mind to keep posterity might haue,
Appointing first our course, this priuiledge he gaue,
That no man might arrest, or debtors goods might seize
In any of vs fowre his militarie Waies.
And though the Fosse in length exceed me many a mile,
That holds from shore to shore the length of all the Ile,
From where Rich Cornwall points, to the Iberian Seas,
Till colder Cathnes tells the scattered Orcades,
I measuring but the bredth, that is not halfe his gate;
Yet, for that I am grac't with goodly Londons state,
And Tames and Seuerne both since in my course I crosse,
And in much greater trade; am worthier farre then Fosse.
But ô vnhappie chance! through times disastrous lot,
Our other fellow Streets lie vtterly forgot:
As Icning, that set out from Yarmouth in the East,
By the Iceni then being generally possest,
Was of that people first tearm'd Icning in her race,
Vpon the Chiltern here that did my course imbrace:
Into the dropping South and bearing then outright,
Vpon the Solent Sea stopt on the Ile-of-Wight.
And Rickneld, forth that raught from Cambria's farther shore,
Where South-Wales now shoots forth Saint Dauid's Promontore.
And, on his mid-way neere, did me in England meet;
Then in his oblique course the lusty stragling Street
Soone ouertook the Fosse; and toward the fall of Tine,
Into the Germane Sea dissolu'd at his decline.
Here Watling would haue ceast, his tale as hauing tolde:
But now this Flood that faine the Street in talke would hold,
Those ancient things to heare, which well old Watling knew,
With these entising words, her fairely forward drew.
Right Noble Street, quoth he, thou hast liu'd long, gone farre,
Much trafique had in peace, much trauailed in warre;
And in thy larger course suruay'st as sundry grounds
(Where I poore Flood am lockt within these narrower bounds,
And like my ruin'd selfe these ruins only see,
And there remains not one to pittie them or me)
On with thy former speech: I pray thee somwhat say.
For, Watling, as thou art a military Way,
Thy story of old Streets likes me so wondrous well,
That of the ancient folk I faine would heare thee tell.
With these perswasiue words, smooth Ver the Watling wan:
Stroking her dusty face, when thus the Street began;
When once their seauen-fold Rule the Saxons came to reare,
And yet with halfe this Ile sufficed scarcely were,
Though from the Inland part the Britans they had chas't,
Then vnderstand how heere themselues the Saxons plac't.
Where in Great Britans state foure people of her owne
Were by the seuerall names of their abodes well knowne
(As, in that horne which iuttes into the Sea so farre,
Wherein our Deuonshire now, and furthest Cornewall are,
The old Daumonij dwelt: so hard againe at hand,
The Durotriges sat on the Dorsetian Sand:
And where from Sea to Sea the Belgae forth were let,
Euen from Southhamptons shore, through Wilt and Sommerset,
The Attrebates in Bark vnto the Bank of Tames,
Betwixt the Celtick sleeue and the Sabrinian streames)
The Saxons there set down one Kingdome: which install'd,
And being West, they it their Westerne kingdom call'd.
So Eastward where by Tames the Trinobants were set,
To Trinouant their Towne, for that their name in debt,
That London now we tearme, the Saxons did possesse,
And their East kingdome call'd, as Essex doth expresse;
The greatest part thereof, and still their name doth beare;
Though Middlesex therein, and part of Hartford were;
From Colne vpon the West, vpon the East to Stour,
Where mighty Tames himselfe doth into Neptune pour.
As to our farthest Rise, where forth those Fore-lands leane,
Which beare their chaulky browes into the German Maine,
The Angles which arose out of the Saxon race,
Allur'd with the delights and fitnes of that place,
Where the Iceni liu'd did set their kingdome downe,
From where the wallowing Seas those queachy Washes drowne
That Ely doe in-Ile, to martyred Edmonds Ditch,
Till those Norfolcian shores vast Neptune doth intich:
Which (farthest to the East of this diuided Ile)
Th'East Angles kingdome, then, those English did instile.
And Sussex seemeth still, as with an open mouth,
Those Saxons Rule to shew that of the vtmost South
The name to them assum'd, who rigorously expeld
The Kentish Britans thence, and those rough wood-lands held
From where the goodly Tames the Surrian grounds doth sweep,
Vntill the smiling Downes salute the Celtick Deep.
Where the Dobuni dwelt, their neighbouring Cateuclani,
Cornauij more remote, and where the Coritani,
Where Dee and Mersey shoot into the Irish Sea;
(Which welneere o're this part, now called England, lay,
From Seuerne to the Ditch that cuts New-Market Plaine,
And from the Banks of Tames to Humber, which containe
So many goodly shires of Mersey, Mercia hight)
Their mightier Empire, there, the middle English pight.
Which farthest though it raught, yet there it did not end:
But Offa, king thereof, it after did extend
Beyond the Bank of Dee; and by a Ditch he cut
Through Wales from North to South, into wide Mercia put
Welneere the halfe thereof, and from three peoples there,
To whom three speciall parts diuided iustly were
(The Ordouices, now which North-Wales people be,
From Cheshire which of old diuided was by Dee:
And from our Marchers now, that were Demetae then;
And those Silures call'd, by vs the South-Wales men)
Beyond the Seuerne, much the English Offa took,
To shut the Britans vp, within a little nooke.
From whence, by Merseyes Banks, the rest a kingdome made:
Where, in the Britanes Rule (before) the Brigants sway'd;
The powerfull English there establisht were to stand:
Which, North from Humber set, they tearm'd North-humberland;
Two Kingdomes which had been, with seuerall thrones install'd.
Bernitia hight the one; Diera th'other call'd.
The first from Humber stretcht vnto the Bank of Tine:
Which Riuer and the Frith the other did confine.
Bernitia beareth through the spacious Yorkish bounds,
From Durham down along to the Lancastrian Sounds,
With Mersey and cleere Tine continuing to their fall,
To England-ward within the Pict's renowned Wall,
And did the greater part of Cumberland containe:
With whom the Britans name for euer shall remaine;
Who there amongst the rocks and mountaines liued long,
When they Loegria left, inforc't through powerfull wrong.
Diera ouer Tine, into Albania lay,
To where the Frith falls out into the German Sea.
This said, the aged Street sagd sadly on alone:
And Ver vpon his course, now hasted to be gone
T'accompany his Colne: which as she gently glides,
Doth kindly him imbrace: whom soon this hap betides;
As Colne come on along, and chanc't to cast her eye
Vpon that neighbouring Hill where Harrow stands so hie,
She Peryvale perceiu'd prankt vp with wreaths of wheat,
And with exulting tearmes thus glorying in her seat;
Why should not I be coy, and of my Beauties nice,
Since this my goodly graine is held of greatest price?
No manchet can so well the courtly palat please,
As that made of the meale fetcht from my fertill Leaze.
Their finest of that kind, compared with my wheate,
For whitenesse of the Bread, doth look like common Cheate.
What Barly is there found, whose faire and bearded eare
Makes stouter English Ale, or stronger English Beere.
The Oate, the Beane, and Pease, with me but Pulses are;
The course and browner Rye, no more then Fitch and Tare.
What seed doth any soyle, in England bring, that I
Beyond her most increase yet cannot multiply.
Besides; my sure abode next goodly London is,
To vent my fruitfull store, that me doth neuer misse.
And those poore baser things, they cannot put away,
How ere I set my price, nere on my chap-men stay.
When presently the Hill, that maketh her a Vale,
With things he had in hand, did interrupt her tale,
With Hampsted being falne and Hie-gate at debate;
As one before them both, that would aduance his State,
From either for his height to beare away the praise,
Besides that he alone rich Peryvale suruaies.
But Hampsted pleads, himselfe in Simples to haue skill,
And therefore by desert to be the noblest Hill;
As one, that on his worth and knowledge doth rely
In learned Physicks vse, and skilfull Surgerie;
And challengeth, from them, the worthiest place her owne,
Since that old Watling once, o're him, to passe was knowne.
Then Hie-gate boasts his Way; Which men do most frequent;
His long-continued fame; his hie and great descent;
Appointed for a gate of London to haue been,
When first the mighty Brute, that City did begin.
And that he is the Hill, next Enfield which hath place,
A Forrest for her pride, though titled but a Chase.
Her Purlewes, and her Parks, her circuit full as large,
As some (perhaps) whose state requires a greater charge.
Whose Holts that view the East, do wistly stand to look
Vpon the winding course of Lee's delightfull Brook.
Where Mimer comming in, inuites her Sister Beane,
Amongst the chalky Bankst increase their Mistresse traine;
Whom by the dainty hand, obsequiously they lead
(By Hartford gliding on, through many a pleasant Mead.
And comming in hir course, to crosse the common Fare,
For kindnes she doth kisse that hospitable Ware.)
Yet scarsely comfort Lee (alasse!) so woe begonne,
Complaining in her course, thus to her selfe alone;
How should my beauty now giue Waltham such delight,
Or I poore silly Brook take pleasure in her sight?
Antiquity (for that it stands so far from view,
And would her doating dreames should be believ'd for true)
Dare lowdly lie for Colne, that somtimes Ships did passe,
To Verlam by by her Streame, when Verlam famous was;
But, by these later times, suspected but to faine,
She Planks and Anchors shews, her errour to maintaine;
Which were, indeeds, of Boats, for pleasure there to rowe
Vpon her (then a Lake) the Roman Pompe to showe,
When Rome • her forces here did euery yeere supply,
And at old Verlam kept a warlike Colony.
But I distressed Lee, whose course doth plainely tell,
That what of Colne is said, of me none could refell,
Whom Alfred but too wise (poore Riuer) I may say
(When he the cruell Danes, did cunningly betray,
Which Hartford then besieg'd, whose Nauy there abode,
And on my spacious brest, before the Castle road)
By vantage of my soyle, he did diuide my Streame,
That they might ne're returne to Neptunes watry Realme.
And, since, distressed Lee I haue been left forlorne,
A by-word to each Brook, and to the World a scorne.
When Sturt, a Nymph of hers (whose saith she oft had prov'd,
And whom, of all her traine, Lee most intirely lov'd)
Least so excessiue greefe, her Mistresse might inuade,
Thus (by faire gentle speech) to patience doth perswade:
Though you be not so great to others as before,
Yet not a iot for that dislike your selfe the more.
Your ense is not alone, nor is (at all) so strange;
Sith euery thing on earth subiects it selfe to change.
Where riuers sometime ran, is firme and certaine ground:
And where before were Hills, now standing Lakes are found.
And that which most you vrge your beauty to dispoile,
Doth recompence your Bank, with quantitie of soyle,
Beset with ranks of Swans that, in their wonted pride,
Do prune their snowy plumes vpon your pleasant side.
And Waltham wooes you still, and smiles with wonted cheere:
And Tames as at the first, so still doth hold you deer.
To much beloued Lee, this scarcely Sturt had spoke,
But goodly Londons sight their further purpose broke:
When Tames his either Banks, adorn'd with buildings faire,
The City to salute doth bid the Muse prepare.
Whose Turrets, Fanes, and Spyres, when wistly she beholds,
Her wonder at the site, thu• strangely she vnfolds:
At thy great Builders wit, who's he but wonder may?
Nay: of his wisedom, thus, ensuing times shall say;
O more then mortall man, that did this Towne begin!
Whose knowledge found the plot, so fit to set it in.
What God, or heauenly power was harbourd in thy breast,
From whom with such successe thy labours should be blest?
Built on a rising Bank, within a Vale to stand,
And for thy healthfull soyle, chose grauell mixt with sand.
And where faire Tames his course into a Crescent casts
(That, forced by his Tydes, as still by her he hasts,
He might his surging waues into her bosome send)
Because too farre in length, his Towne should not extend.
And to the North and South, vpon an equall reach,
Two Hils their euen Banks do somewhat seeme to stretch,
Those two extreamer Winds from hurting it to let;
And only leuell lies, vpon the Rise and Set.
Of all this goodly Ile, where breathes most cheerefull aire
And euery way there-to the wayes most smooth and faire;
As in the fittest place, by man that could be thought,
To which by Land, or Sea, prouision might be brought.
And such a Road for Ships scarce all the world commands,
As is the goodly Tames, neer where Brute's City stands.
Nor any Hauen lies to which is more resort,
Commodities to bring, as also to transport:
Our Kingdome that enricht (through which we flourisht long)
E're idle Gentry vp in such aboundance sprong.
Now pestring all this Ile: whose disproportion drawes
The publique wealth so drie, and only is the cause
Our gold goes out so fast, for foolish foraine things,
Which vpstart Gentry still into our Country brings;
Who their insatiate pride seek chiefly to maintaine
By that, which only serues to vses vile and vaine:
Which our plaine Fathers carst would haue accounted sinne,
Before the costly Coach, and silken stock came in;
Before that Indian weed so strongly was imbrac't;
Wherin, such mighty summes we prodigally waste;
That Merchants long train'd vp in Gayn's deceitfull schoole,
And subtly hauing learn'd to sooth the humorous soole,
Present their painted toyes vnto this frantique gull,
Disparaging our Tinne, our Leather, Corne, and Wooll;
When Forrainers, with ours them warmly cloath and feed,
Transporting trash to vs, of which we nere had need.
But whilst the angry Muse, thus on the Time exclames,
Sith euery thing therin consisteth in extreames;
Lest she inforc't with wrongs, her limits should transcend,
Here of this present Song she briefly makes an end.