University of Virginia Library

The Author being in Moscouia, wrytes to certaine his frendes in Englande of the state of the place, not exactly, but at all aduentures, and minding to haue descrybed all the Moscouites maners, brake off his purpose vpon some occasion. The three Epistles followe.

To his especiall frende, master Edwarde Dancie.

My Dancie deere, when I
recount within my brest:
My London frends and wonted mates
and thee aboue the rest.
I feele a thousand fittes
of deepe and deadly woe:
To thinke that I from sea to land,
from blisse to bale did goe.
I left my natiue soyle,
ful like a retchlesse man
And vnacquainted of the coast,
among the Russies ranne.
A people passing rude,
to vices vile enclinde:
Folke fitte to be of Bacchus traine,
so quaffing is their kinde.
Drinke is their whole desire,
the pot is all their pride:
The sobrest head doeth once a day,
stand needeful of a guyde.
If he to banquet bid his frends,
he wil not shrinke
On them at dinner to bestow
a dosen kindes of drinke.
Such licour as they haue
and as the countrey giues:
But cheefly two, one called Kuas,
whereby the Musick liues.
Small ware and waterlike
but somewhat tart in taste:
The rest is Meade, of hony made
wherewith their lips they baste.
And if he goe vnto
his neighbour as a guest:
He cares for litle meate, if so
his drinke be of the best.
Perhaps the Mausick hath
a gay and gallant wife:
To serue his beastly lust yet he
will leade a bowgards life.
The monster more desires
a boy within his bed
Then any wench, such filthy sinne
ensues a drunken head.
The woman to repay,
her drousie husbands dettes:
From stinking stoue vnto her mate
to baudy banquet gets.
No wonder though they vse
such vile and beastly trade:
Sith with the hatchet and the hand,
their chiefest Gods be made.
Their Idolles haue their hearts
on God they neuer call:
Unlesse it be (Nichola Bough)
that hangs against the wall.
The house that hath no God,
or painted saint within:
Is not to be resorted to,
that roofe is full of sinne.
Besides their priuate Gods,
in open places stand
Their crosses, vnto which they crouch,
and blesse themselues with hand.
Deuoutly downe they ducke,
with forhead to the ground:
Was neuer more deceit in ragges,
and greasie garments found.
Almost the meanest man
in all the countrey rides:
The woman eke against our vse,
her trotting horse bestrides.
In sundry colors they
both men and women go:
In buskins all, that money haue
on buskins to bestow.
Eche woman hanging hath
a ring within hir eare:
Which all of ancieut vse, and some
of very pride do weare.
Their gate is very graue,
their countenance wise and sad:
And yet they follow fleshly lusts,
their trade of liuing bad.
It is no shame at all,
accounted to defile
Anothers bed, they make no care
their follies to concile.
Is not the meanest man
in all the land, but he
To buy hir painted colours doth
allow his wife a fee.
Wherewith she decks hir selfe,
and dies hir tawnie skin:
She prancks and paints hir smokie face,
both browe, lip, cheeke and chin.
Yea those that honest are
(if any such there vee)
Within the land, do vse the like,
a man may plainly see.
Upon some womens cheekes
the painting how it lies:
In plaster sort, for that too thicke
hir face the harlot dies.
But such as skilfull are,
and cunning dames in deed:
By daily practise do it well,
yea sure they do exceed.
They lay their colours so,
as he that is full wise:
May easily be deceiued therein,
if he do trust his eies.
I not a little muse
what madnesse makes them paint
Their faces, waying how they keepe
the stoue by meere constraint.
For seldom when, vnlesse
on church or mariage day.
A man shall see the dames abrode
that are of vest aray.
The Russie means to reape
the profit of hir pride:
And so he mewes hir, to be sure
she lie by no mans side.
Thus much (friend Dancie)
I did meane to write to thee:
To let thee wite, in Russia land,
what men and women bee.
Hereafter I perhaps
of other things will write:
To thee and other of my friends,
which I shall see with sight.
And other stuffe besides,
which true report shall tell:
Meane while I end my louing lines,
and bid thee now farewell.

To Spencer.

If I should now forget
or not remember thee:
Thou (Spencer) mightst a foule rebuke
and shame impute to mee.
For I to open shew
did loue thee passing well:
And thou were he, at parture whom
I loathd to bid farewell.
And as I went thy friend,
so I continue still:
No better proofe thou canst desire
than this, of true good will.
I do remember well
when needs I should away:
And that the preast would licence vs,
no longer time to stay.
Thou wroongst me by the fist,
and holding fast my hand:
Didst craue of me to send thee newes,
and how I likte the land.
It is a sandie soyle,
no very fruitfull vaine:
More wast and wooddie grounds there are
than closes fit for graine.
Yet graine there growing is,
which they vntimely take:
And cut or ere the corne be ripe,
they mowe it on a stake.
And laying sheafe by sheafe,
their haruest so they drie:
They make the greater hast.
for feare the frost the corne destrie.
For in the winter time,
so glarie is the ground:
As neither grasse nor other graine
in pastures may be found.
In comes the cattell then,
the sheepe, the colt, the cowe:
Fast by his bed the Mowsicke
then a lodging doth alowe.
Whom he with fodder feeds,
and holds as deare as life:
And thus they weare the Winter with
the Mowsicke and his wife.
Eight monthes the Winter dures,
the glare it is so great:
As it is May before he turne
his ground to sowe his wheate.
The bodies eke that die,
vnburied lie till then:
Laid vp in coffins made of firre,
as well the poorest men.
As those of greater state,
the cause is lightly found:
For that in winter time
they cannot come to breake the ground.
And wood so plenteous is
quite throughout all the land:
As rich and poore at time of death,
assured of coffins stand.
Perhaps thou musest much,
how this may stand with reason:
That bodies dead, can vncorrupt,
abide so long a season.
Take this for certaine troth,
as soone as heate is gone:
The force of cold the body bindes
as hard as any stone.
Without offence at all,
to any liuing thing:
And so they lie in perfit state,
till next returne of spring.
Their beasts be like to ours,
as far as I can see:
For shape and show, but somwhat lesse
of bulke and bone they bee.
Of watrith taste, the flesh not firme,
like English biefe:
And yet it serues them very well,
and is a good reliefe.
Their sheep are very small,
sharpe singled, handfull long:
Great store of fowle on sea and land,
the moorish reeds among.
The greatnes of the store
doth make the prices lesse:
Besides, in all the land they know
not how good meat to dresse.
They vse neither broach nor spit,
but when the stoue they heat,
They put their vitails in a pan,
and so they bake their meat.
No pewter to be had,
no dishes but of wood:
No vse of trenchers, cups
cut out of birch are very good.
They vse but woodden spoones,
which hanging in a case:
Each Mowsike at his girdle ties,
and thinks it no disgrace.
With whittles two or three,
the better man the mo.
The chiefest Russies in the land,
with spone and kniues do go.
Their houses are not huge
of building, but they say
They plant them in the loftiest ground
to shift the snow away.
Which in the Winter time
eche where full thicke doth lie:
Which makes them haue the more desire
to set their houses hie.
No stone worke is in vse,
their roofes of rafters bee:
One linked in another fast,
their wals are all of tree.
Of mastes both long and large,
with mosse put in betweene,
To keep the force of weather out,
I neuer earst haue seene.
A grosse deuise so good,
and on the roofe they lay:
The burthen barke, to rid the raine
and sudden showres away.
In euery roome a (stoue)
to serue the winter turne:
Of wood they haue suffising store,
as much as they can burne.
They haue no English glasse,
of slices of a rocke:
Hight Sluda, they their windowes make,
that English glasse doth mocke.
They cut it very thin,
and sowe it with a threed,
In pretie order like to panes,
to serue their present need.
No other glasse good faith
doth giue a better light:
And sure the rocke is nothing rich,
the cost is very slight.
The chiefest place is that
where hangs the God by it:
The owner of the house himselfe,
doth neuer vse to sit.
Unlesse his better come,
to whom he yeelds the seat:
The stranger bending to the god,
the ground with browe must beat.
And in that very place,
which they most sacred deeme:
The stranger lies a token that
his guest he doth esteeme.
Where he is woont to haue
a Beares skin for his bed:
And must in stead of pillow
clap his saddle to his hed.
In Russia other shift
there is not to be had:
For where the bedding is not good,
the bolsters are but bad.
I mused very much
what made them so to lie
Sith in their countrey downe is rife,
and feathers out of cry.
Unlesse it be because
the countrey is so hard:
They feare by nicenes of a bed,
their bodies would be marde.
I wisht thee oft with vs,
saue that I stoode in feare
Thou wouldst haue loathed to haue layd,
thy limmes vpon a beare
As I and Stafford did,
that was my make in bed:
And yet we thanke the God of heauen,
we both right wel haue sped.
Loe thus I make an end,
none other newes to thee:
But that the countrey is too colde
the people beastly be.
I write not all I know,
I touch but here and there
For if I should, my pen would pinch,
and eke offend I feare.
Who so shal reade this verse,
coniecture of the rest:
And thinke by reason of our trade
that I doe thinke the best.
But if no traffick were,
then could I boldly pen
The hardnes of the soyle,
and eke the manners of the men.
They say the Lyons pawe
geues iudgement of the beast:
And so may you deeme of the great
by reading of the least.

To Parker.

My Parker, paper, pen
and inke were made to write,
And idle heads that litle doe,
haue leysure to endite
Wherfore respecting these,
and thine assured loue,
If I would write no newes to thee
thou mightst my pen reprooue.
And sithens fortune thus,
hath shoued my ship from shore:
And made me seeke another Realme
vnseene of me before.
The manners of the men,
I purpose to declare
And other priuate points beside,
which strange and geason are.
The Russie men are round
of bodies, fully fast
The greatest part with bellies big,
that ouerhang the wast.
Flat headed for the most,
with faces nothing faire.
But browne by reason of the stoue,
and closenes of the ayre.
It is their common vse,
to shaue or els to sheare,
Their heads: for none in all the land,
long lolling lockes doe weare.
Unles perhaps he haue
his soueraigne Prince displeasde
For then he neuer cuts his heare,
vntil he be appeasde.
A certaine signe to know
who in displeasure be:
For euery man that vewes his head
wil say, loe this is he.
And during all the time,
he lets his locks to grow:
Dares no man for his life,
to him a face of frendship show.
Their garments be not gay,
nor handsome to the eye:
A cap aloft their heads they haue
that standeth very hie.
Which (Colpack) they doe tearme
they weare no ruffes at al
The best haue collars set with pearle
Rubasca they doe call.
Their shirts in Russie long
they worke them downe before
And on the sleeues with coloured silkes,
two ynches good or more.
Aloft their shirts they weare
a garment iocket wise
Hight Onoriadka, and about
his bourly wast he ties
His Portkies, which in stead,
of better breeches be.
Of linnen cloth that garment is
no codpeece is to see
A paire of yornen stockes
to keepe the cold away:
Within his bootes the Russie weares,
the heeles they vnderlay.
With clouting clamps of steele,
sharpe pointed at the toes:
And ouer all a Suba furde,
and thus the Russie goes.
Wel butned is the Sube
according to his state
Some silke, of siluer other some
but those of poorest rate
Doe weare no Subes at all
but grosser gownes to sight:
That reacheth downe beneath the calfe,
and that Armacha hight.
These are the Russies robes,
the richest vse to ride
From place to place, his seruant runnes
and followes by his side.
The Cassocke beares his fealt,
to force away the raine:
Their bridles are not very braue,
their saddles are but plaine.
No bittes, but snaffels all,
of bryche their saddles be:
Much fashioned like the Scottish seates,
broad flaxs to keepe the knee.
From sweating of the horse,
the pannels larger farre
And broader be than ours
they vse short stirrops for the warre,
For when the Russie is
pursude by cruel foe
He rides away, and sodenly,
betakes him to his bowe.
And bendes me but about
in saddle as he sits
And therewithall amid his race,
his following foe he hittes.
Their bowes are very short,
like Turky bowes outright:
Of sinewes made with byrthen barke,
in cunning maner dight.
Small arrowes, cruel heads,
that fel and forked be:
Which being shot from out those bowes
a cruel wayes wil flee.
They seldome shooe their horse,
vnlesse they vse to ride
In poast vpon the frozen floode,
then cause they shal not slide
He sets a slender calke,
and so he rides his way:
The horses of the countrey goe,
good fourescore veorsts a day
And all without the spurre
once prick them and they skip,
But goe not forward on their way.
the Russie hath his whip
To rap him on the ribs
for though all booted be
Yet shal you not a paire of spurs
in all the countrey see,
The common game is chesse
almost the simplest wil
Both geue a checke and eke a mate,
by practise comes their skil.
Againe the dice as fast,
the poorest roges of all
Wil sit them downe in open field
and there to gaming fall.
Their dice are very small,
in fashion like to those
Which we doe vse, he takes them vp,
and ouer thumbe he throwes,
Not shaking them a whit,
they cast suspiciously:
And yet I deeme them voyd of arte,
that dicing most apply.
At plaxe when siluer lackes,
goes saddle, horse and all:
And each thing els worth siluer walkes,
although the price be small.
Because thou louest to play,
frend Parker, other while
I wish thee there, the weary day,
with dicing to beguile.
But thou were better farre
at home, I wist it wel
And wouldst been loath among such loutes
so long a time to dwel.
Then iudge of vs thy frends,
what kind of life we had.
That neere the frozen pole to wast
our weary dayes were glad.
In such a sauage soyle,
where lawes doe beare no sway
But all is at the King his wil,
to saue or els to stay.
And that saunce cause God wot,
if so his minde be such
But what meane I with kings to deale
we ought no Saints to touch.
Conceaue the rest your selfe,
and deeme what liues they leave:
Where lust is law, and subiectes liue
continually in dread.
And where the best estates,
haue none assurance good
Of lands, of liues, nor nothing falles
vnto the next of bloud.
But all of custome doeth
vnto the Prince redowne:
And all the whole reuenue comes
vnto the king his crowne,
Good faith I see thee muse,
at what I tel thee now
But true it is, no choyce
but all at Princes pleasure bowe.
So Tarquine ruled Rome,
as thou remembrest well:
And what his fortune was at last,
I know thy selfe canst tell.
Where will in common weale,
doth beare the onely sway.
And lust is law, the prince and realme
must needs in time decay.
The strangenesse of the place is such
for sundry things I see:
As if I would, I cannot write
such priuate point to thee.
The cold is rare, the people rude,
the prince so full of pride:
The realm so stord with monks & nunnes,
and priests on euery side.
The maners are so Turkylike,
the men so full of guile:
The women wanton, temples stuft
with idols that defile.
The seats that sacred ought to be,
the customs are so quaint:
As if I would describe the whole,
I feare my pen would faint.
In summe I say, I neuer saw
a prince that so did raigne:
Nor people so beset with Saints,
yet all but vile and vaine.
Wild Irish are as ciuil as
the Russies in their kind:
Hard choice which is the best of both,
each bloodie rude, and blind.
If thou be wise, as wise thou art,
and wilt be rulde by mee:
Liue still at home, and couet not,
those barbarous coasts to see.
No good befals a man that seekes,
and finds no better place:
No ciuil customs to be learnd,
where God bestowes no grace.
And truly ill they do deserue,
to be beloued of God:
That neither loue, nor stand in awe
of his assured rod.
Which (thogh be long) yet plagues at last
the vile and beastly sort
Of sinfull wights, that all in vice
do place their chiefest sport.
Adieu friend Parker, if thou list,
to know the Russies well:
To Sigismundus booke repaire,
who all the truth can tell.
For he long earst in message went,
vnto that sauage king:
Sent by the Pole, and true report
in each respect did bring.
To him I recommend my selfe,
to ease my pen of paine:
And now at last do wish thee well,
and bid farewell againe.