IX.

SIR JOHN SUCKLING'S CAMPAIGNE.

When the Scottish Covenanters rose up in arms, and advanced to the English borders in 1639, many of the courtiers complimented the king by raising forces at their own expence. Among these none were more distinguished than the gallant Sir John Suckling, who raised a troop of horse, so richly accoutred, that it cost him 12,000l. The like expensive equipment of other parts of the army, made the king remark, that the Scots would fight stoutly, if it were but for the Englishmen's fine cloaths.' [Lloyd's Memoirs.] When they came to action, the rugged Scots proved more than a match for the fine shewy English: many of whom behaved remarkably ill, and among the rest this splendid troop of Sir John Suckling's.

This humorous pasquil has been generally supposed to have been written by Sir John, as a banter upon himself. Some of his contemporaries however attributed it to Sir John Mennis, a wit of those times, among whose poems it is printed in a small poetical miscellany, intitled, Musarum deliciæ: or the Muses recreation, containing several pieces of poetique wit, 2d. edition.-By Sir J. M. [Sir John Mennis] and Ja. S. [James Smith.] Lond. 1656, 12mo.' -[See Wood's Athenæ. II. 397, 418.] In that copy is subjoined an additional stanza, which probably was written by this Sir John Mennis, viz. 'But now there is peace, he's return'd to increase

His money, which lately he spent-a,

But his lost honour must lye still in the dust;

At Barwick away it went-a.'

SIR John he got him an ambling nag,

To Scotland for to ride-a,

With a hundred horse more, all his own he swore,

To guard him on every side-a.

No Errant-knight ever went to fight

With halfe so gay a bravada,

5

Had you seen but his look, you'ld have sworn on a book,

Hee 'ld have conquer'd a whole armada.

The ladies ran all to the windows to see
So gallant and warlike a sight-a,
And as he pass'd by, they said with a sigh,
'Sir John, why will you go fight-a?'

10

But he, like a cruel knight, spurr'd on;
His heart would not relent-a,

For, till he came there, what had he to fear?
Or why should he repent-a?

The king (God bless him!) had singular hopes
Of him and all his troop-a:

The borderers they, as they met him on the way,
For joy did hollow, and whoop-a.

None lik'd him so well, as his own colonell,

Who took him for John de Wert-a;

But when there were shows of gunning and blows,
My gallant was nothing so pert-a.

For when the Scots army came within sight,
And all prepared to fight-a,

He ran to his tent, they ask'd what he meant,
He swore he must needs goe sh*te-a.

The colonell sent for him back agen,

To quarter him in the van-a,

But Sir John did swear, he would not come there,
To be kill'd the very first man-a.

To cure his fear, he was sent to the reare,
Some ten miles back, and more-a;
Where Sir John did play at trip and away,

And ne'er saw the enemy more-a.

Ver. 22, John de Wert was a German general of great reputation, and the terror of the French in the reign of Louis XIII. verbial in France, where he was called De Vert.

Hence his name became pro-
See Bayle's Dict.

X.

TO ALTHEA, FROM PRISON.

This excellent sonnet, which possessed a high degree of fame among the old Cavaliers, was written by Colonel Richard Lovelace during his confinement in the gate house Westminster: to which he was committed by the House of Commons, in April 1642, for presenting a petition from the county of Kent, requesting them to restore the king to his rights, and to settle the government. See Wood's Athenæ. Vol. II. p. 228, and Lyson's Environs of London, Vol. I. p. 109; where may be seen at large the affecting story of this elegant writer, who after having been distinguished for every gallant and polite accomplishment, the pattern of his own sex, and the darling of the ladies, died in the lowest wretchedness, obscurity, and want, in 1658.

This song is printed from a scarce volume of his poems intitled, Lucasta,' 1649, 12mo. collated with a copy in the Editor's folio MS.1

WHEN love with unconfined wings
Hovers within my gates,

And

my divine Althea brings

To whisper at my grates;
When I lye tangled in her haire,

And fetter'd with her eye,

The birds that wanton in the aire,

Know no such libertye.

5

When flowing cups run swiftly round

With no allaying Thames,

10

Our carelesse heads with roses crown'd,

Our hearts with loyal flames;

When thirsty griefe in wine we steepe,

When healths and draughts goe free,

Fishes, that tipple in the deepe,

Know no such libertìe.

15

Ver. 10, with woe-allaying themes, MS. Thames is here used for water in general.

1 Lucasta was a Miss Lucy Sacheverel, who, hearing that Lovelace had died at Dunkirk, married another.-Ed.

When, linnet-like, confined I

With shriller note shall sing
The mercye, sweetness, majestye,
And glories of my king;

When I shall voyce aloud how good

He is, how great should be,

Th' enlarged windes that curle the flood,
Know no such libertìe.

Stone walls doe not a prison make,

Nor iron barres a cage,

Mindes innocent and quiet, take

That for an hermitage:

If I have freedom in my love,
And in my soule am free,
Angels alone, that soare above,
Enjoy such libertìe.

20

25

30

XI.

THE DOWNFALL OF CHARING-CROSS.

Charing-cross, as it stood before the civil wars, was one of those beautiful Gothic obelisks erected to conjugal affection by Edward I. who built such a one wherever the herse of his beloved Eleanor rested in its way from Lincolnshire to Westminster. But neither its ornamental situation, the beauty of its structure, nor the noble design of its erection (which did honour to humanity), could preserve it from the merciless zeal of the times: For, in 1647, it was demolished by order of the House of Commons, as popish and superstitious. This occasioned the following not-unhumorous sarcasm, which has been often printed among the popular sonnets of those times.

The plot referred to in ver. 17, was that entered into by Mr Waller the poet, and others, with a view to reduce the city and tower to the service of the king; for which two of them, Nath. Tomkins and Rich. Chaloner, suffered death July 5, 1643. Vid. Ath. Ox. II. 24.

UNDONE, undone the lawyers are,
They wander about the towne,

Nor can find the way to Westminster,

Now Charing-cross is downe:

At the end of the Strand, they make a stand, 5 Swearing they are at a loss,

And chaffing say, that's not the way,

They must go by Charing-cross.

The parliament to vote it down.
Conceived it very fitting,

For fear it should fall, and kill them all,
In the house, as they were sitting.
They were told, god-wot, it had a plot,
Which made them so hard-hearted,
To give command, it should not stand,
But be taken down and carted.

Men talk of plots, this might have been

worse

For any thing I know,

Than that Tomkins and Chaloner,
Were hang'd for long agoe.
Our parliament did that prevent,
And wisely them defended,
For plots they will discover still,
Before they were intended.

But neither man, woman, nor child,

Will say,

I'm confident,

They ever heard it speak one word

Against the parliament.

An informer swore, it letters bore,

Or else it had been freed;
I'll take, in troth, my Bible oath,

It could neither write, nor read.