The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston ... The Sixth edition |
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 | The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston |  |
197
MOB CONTRA MOB:
OR, THE RABBLERS RABBLED.
O qualis nurly-burly fuit! si forte vidisses
Pypantes arsas, & flavo sanguine breekas
Dripantes, hominumque heartas ad prœlia faintas.
Hawthornden, Pol. Middin.
Pypantes arsas, & flavo sanguine breekas
Dripantes, hominumque heartas ad prœlia faintas.
Hawthornden, Pol. Middin.
199
Canto I.
In pious all-reforming times,
When Sense and Learning were thought crimes,
When zeal had got the start of Reason,
And Loyalty was called Treason;
When apostolic constitutions
Were banish'd by new revolutions,
Instead of which, the Sough and Tone
Were counted orthodox alone;
When Impudence, Grimace and Cant,
Were thought enough to make a Saint;
And when a sullen wry-mouth'd Face
Past for a certain mark of Grace;
When Pulpit-thumpers did express
Their indigested raw address,
With far less manners, though more Tone,
To Heav'n, than to the British throne,
And less devoutly supplicate
Their God, than civil magistrate;
Cry'd down all forms of prayer, rather
Than lye, in calling God their Father;
Then cramm'd and stuff'd the long-ear'd croud
With new-coin'd doctrine long and loud,
Amusing all the list'ning press
With most seraphic emptiness.
When uprightness and honesty,
Insipid dry morality,
And learning, were a-packing sent,
As rebels to the government;
When penitence was called Pop'ry,
And abstinence but monkish Fopp'ry,
Forgiving injuries, mere jests,
Preach'd only by prelatic Priests,
Who lead their simple Flocks astray
From the more powerful gospel-way;
Religion now, like navigation,
Is much improved in the nation,
And now the Helm to such is given,
Who steer a nearer course to Heaven,
And teach their hearers to love God,
By hating man, which is right odd:
When cross-grain'd Saints no Glore would sing
To God, nor honoured the King,
The stubborn and rebellious Crew
Give neither God nor Cæsar's due,
As if they were predestinate
To hate all that is Good or Great,
And by Decrees of Fate appointed
Still to oppose the Lord's anointed;
When covenanted Saints did join,
With merry hearts, to drink their wine:
In these brave days the mighty Mob,
Like him who once harassed Job,
Run to and fro throughout the nation,
And madly wrought up Reformation;
What avarice, or pride, or spight,
Produc'd, was called Claim of Right;
Whate'er they did, by force or awe,
It was, or they could make it, Law;
Which I could prove by Syllogism,
As clear as that a Cone's no Prism,
By reasons good, drawn a majori
Ad minus, if you'll hear the story;
For sure it is no harder thing,
To make the law, than make the King;
This then the Mob can do at random,
So that, quod erat demonstrandum,
A certain M---ch of great fame,
Known by his Nose, we'll blank his name,
Avouch'd, which proves the thing no fable,
The jus divinum of the Rabble;
And if we view the state of nature,
A King is but the people's creature.
When men sprung from the ground, like garlic,
Then all the Sons of Earth were warlike,
Not one would yield unto another,
Each Whore-son fought against his brother,
Like those sprung from the Dragon's Teeth,
One brother sought another's death;
And this, forsooth, they did the rather,
Because they had no common father,
Who by paternal right may reign;
Then first the Mob set up a King,
And still they have this power inherent,
To make their Gods, or God's Vicegerent;
And they who have the pow'r to make them,
At pleasure can in pieces break them.
So children playing in a ring,
Gravely set up a nine-pin King,
With this design, as is most plain,
That they may knock him down again.
When Sense and Learning were thought crimes,
When zeal had got the start of Reason,
And Loyalty was called Treason;
When apostolic constitutions
Were banish'd by new revolutions,
Instead of which, the Sough and Tone
Were counted orthodox alone;
When Impudence, Grimace and Cant,
Were thought enough to make a Saint;
And when a sullen wry-mouth'd Face
Past for a certain mark of Grace;
When Pulpit-thumpers did express
Their indigested raw address,
With far less manners, though more Tone,
To Heav'n, than to the British throne,
And less devoutly supplicate
Their God, than civil magistrate;
Cry'd down all forms of prayer, rather
Than lye, in calling God their Father;
200
With new-coin'd doctrine long and loud,
Amusing all the list'ning press
With most seraphic emptiness.
When uprightness and honesty,
Insipid dry morality,
And learning, were a-packing sent,
As rebels to the government;
When penitence was called Pop'ry,
And abstinence but monkish Fopp'ry,
Forgiving injuries, mere jests,
Preach'd only by prelatic Priests,
Who lead their simple Flocks astray
From the more powerful gospel-way;
Religion now, like navigation,
Is much improved in the nation,
And now the Helm to such is given,
Who steer a nearer course to Heaven,
And teach their hearers to love God,
By hating man, which is right odd:
When cross-grain'd Saints no Glore would sing
To God, nor honoured the King,
The stubborn and rebellious Crew
Give neither God nor Cæsar's due,
As if they were predestinate
To hate all that is Good or Great,
And by Decrees of Fate appointed
Still to oppose the Lord's anointed;
When covenanted Saints did join,
With merry hearts, to drink their wine:
In these brave days the mighty Mob,
Like him who once harassed Job,
Run to and fro throughout the nation,
And madly wrought up Reformation;
What avarice, or pride, or spight,
Produc'd, was called Claim of Right;
201
It was, or they could make it, Law;
Which I could prove by Syllogism,
As clear as that a Cone's no Prism,
By reasons good, drawn a majori
Ad minus, if you'll hear the story;
For sure it is no harder thing,
To make the law, than make the King;
This then the Mob can do at random,
So that, quod erat demonstrandum,
A certain M---ch of great fame,
Known by his Nose, we'll blank his name,
Avouch'd, which proves the thing no fable,
The jus divinum of the Rabble;
And if we view the state of nature,
A King is but the people's creature.
When men sprung from the ground, like garlic,
Then all the Sons of Earth were warlike,
Not one would yield unto another,
Each Whore-son fought against his brother,
Like those sprung from the Dragon's Teeth,
One brother sought another's death;
And this, forsooth, they did the rather,
Because they had no common father,
Who by paternal right may reign;
Then first the Mob set up a King,
And still they have this power inherent,
To make their Gods, or God's Vicegerent;
And they who have the pow'r to make them,
At pleasure can in pieces break them.
So children playing in a ring,
Gravely set up a nine-pin King,
With this design, as is most plain,
That they may knock him down again.
The christian Reader will excuse,
The lawless freedom of my Muse,
Which from the subject here digresses,
To prove what Haly-kirk professes;
Besides, if men did not digress,
'Tis known the Pulpit and the Press,
When now employed by such Asses
Would waste less Paper and Sand-glasses,
So here my Muse doth scrape a Leg,
And courteous Reader's pardon beg,
That, if to make the verse to clink,
I only speak what others think,
Or, in pursuing of my project,
I err in Prosody or Logic,
He kindly may excuse my Babble;
So I return unto the Rabble.
The lawless freedom of my Muse,
202
To prove what Haly-kirk professes;
Besides, if men did not digress,
'Tis known the Pulpit and the Press,
When now employed by such Asses
Would waste less Paper and Sand-glasses,
So here my Muse doth scrape a Leg,
And courteous Reader's pardon beg,
That, if to make the verse to clink,
I only speak what others think,
Or, in pursuing of my project,
I err in Prosody or Logic,
He kindly may excuse my Babble;
So I return unto the Rabble.
Canto II.
This
Hydra of uncertain birth,
If sprung from hell, or sprung from earth,
If Lethe's or Geneva's spawn,
An enemy to Gown and Lawn,
And all that superstition fosters,
As Canons, Creeds, and Pater-nosters,
Doxologies, and Days festival,
And every other thing that's civil,
All laws divine and human scorns,
And with more heads, by far, and horns,
Than Beasts describ'd in Revelation,
Push'd on a godly Reformation.
First on the pleasant banks of Clyde,
Fruitful of Treason, Lust and Pride,
And farther to the setting sun,
Where Saints do live, and Saints alone;
As some affirm, in Irish ground
No Viper lives, nor can be found,
No Spider there, no Frog, nor Toad,
So none live here but men of God.
At Pentland-hills and Bothwel-brigs,
Where once the covenanted Whigs,
Inspir'd with zealous fury, fought
Against their King, and gained nought:
The Saints affirm'd that Windle-straws
Would that day fight for the Old Cause,
And so it prov'd, as those who saw,
Told that they fought like Men of Straw.
If sprung from hell, or sprung from earth,
If Lethe's or Geneva's spawn,
An enemy to Gown and Lawn,
And all that superstition fosters,
As Canons, Creeds, and Pater-nosters,
Doxologies, and Days festival,
And every other thing that's civil,
All laws divine and human scorns,
And with more heads, by far, and horns,
Than Beasts describ'd in Revelation,
Push'd on a godly Reformation.
First on the pleasant banks of Clyde,
Fruitful of Treason, Lust and Pride,
And farther to the setting sun,
Where Saints do live, and Saints alone;
As some affirm, in Irish ground
No Viper lives, nor can be found,
203
So none live here but men of God.
At Pentland-hills and Bothwel-brigs,
Where once the covenanted Whigs,
Inspir'd with zealous fury, fought
Against their King, and gained nought:
The Saints affirm'd that Windle-straws
Would that day fight for the Old Cause,
And so it prov'd, as those who saw,
Told that they fought like Men of Straw.
Here, first, that Beast with many Heads
Began to shew his mighty Deeds,
And furiously, with Sword in hand,
From Superstition purg'd the land;
With Pitchforks, Scythes, and such like tools,
Reform'd Kirks, Colleges and Schools;
With Dagger, Sword, and Musket-shot,
Did Gospel-purity promote;
Kilmarnocks-knives, and Forks, and Bodkins,
Pick-axes, and a thousand odd things,
With Flails, and Cudgels made of Birk,
Most proper tools to plant the Kirk,
And thoroughly to purge the nation,
By blood, or some Evacuation,
From noxious humours, and the Devil,
Of myter'd heads, and the King's Evil.
Thus Mountsbanks and Urine gazers,
Armed with Pincers, Launcets, Razors,
With Spatulas and Clyster-pipes,
Close siege lay to their patients tripes,
Till they have turned out what's in,
And then to stuff them do begin,
With such sophistic Drugs and Pills,
Which leaves them sicker, or else kills;
Or cunningly their teeth he draws,
And so depopulates their jaws,
Yet very gravely does assure them,
There is no other way to cure them,
And then expects right ample Fees,
For cures far worse than the disease.
Began to shew his mighty Deeds,
And furiously, with Sword in hand,
From Superstition purg'd the land;
With Pitchforks, Scythes, and such like tools,
Reform'd Kirks, Colleges and Schools;
With Dagger, Sword, and Musket-shot,
Did Gospel-purity promote;
Kilmarnocks-knives, and Forks, and Bodkins,
Pick-axes, and a thousand odd things,
With Flails, and Cudgels made of Birk,
Most proper tools to plant the Kirk,
And thoroughly to purge the nation,
By blood, or some Evacuation,
From noxious humours, and the Devil,
Of myter'd heads, and the King's Evil.
Thus Mountsbanks and Urine gazers,
Armed with Pincers, Launcets, Razors,
With Spatulas and Clyster-pipes,
Close siege lay to their patients tripes,
Till they have turned out what's in,
And then to stuff them do begin,
With such sophistic Drugs and Pills,
Which leaves them sicker, or else kills;
Or cunningly their teeth he draws,
And so depopulates their jaws,
204
There is no other way to cure them,
And then expects right ample Fees,
For cures far worse than the disease.
Still more and more the Mob advanced,
And, as the Devil pip'd, it danced,
With agile motion crossed Forth,
To plant the gospel in the North,
Sack'd every Kirk, storm'd every steeple,
Dragoon'd all the opposing people;
And, being by the Bench assisted,
Seldom and faintly was resisted:
Some of them had escap'd the Gallows,
And therefore patroniz'd their fellows,
To make their own case seem the fairer,
They still would vindicate a sharer.
Thus Success did attend the Rabble,
In each attempt, and every Squabble,
And still the Reformation
By Fraud or Force was carried on,
And o'er the Grampian-hills it glided,
Which Scots from Picts of old divided.
Here I my wearied bones will rest,
And, when I am again refresht,
The Mob I'll meet in place more proper,
And trigg it too, till then let's stop here.
And, as the Devil pip'd, it danced,
With agile motion crossed Forth,
To plant the gospel in the North,
Sack'd every Kirk, storm'd every steeple,
Dragoon'd all the opposing people;
And, being by the Bench assisted,
Seldom and faintly was resisted:
Some of them had escap'd the Gallows,
And therefore patroniz'd their fellows,
To make their own case seem the fairer,
They still would vindicate a sharer.
Thus Success did attend the Rabble,
In each attempt, and every Squabble,
And still the Reformation
By Fraud or Force was carried on,
And o'er the Grampian-hills it glided,
Which Scots from Picts of old divided.
Here I my wearied bones will rest,
And, when I am again refresht,
The Mob I'll meet in place more proper,
And trigg it too, till then let's stop here.
Canto III.
In Northern Climes a country lies,Some think 'twixt Ursa Major's thighs;
Perhaps the reason makes them guess it
Is, that the Boar doth oft bepiss it;
205
She squirts it too with snow and hail.
If so, or not, I will not jangle,
Let those who trade in Line and Angle,
Who know by head the heavenly Cattle,
Can rank them up in Line of Battle,
And plainly tell the reason why
Bulls, Boars and Dogs, who guard the sky,
So harmless are, since we remark
They never bellow, grunt, nor bark;
Let those, who in these wares do traffic,
Describe them by rules geographic;
Yet, lest the Reader should repine,
This country lies be-north the Line,
Where foaming Neptune oftimes roars,
Insulting the opposing shores,
Which proudly beat him off again,
Extending far into the Main;
Nought here, which life requires, is wanting,
But that the naked fields lack planting:
Had Phyllis in this country liv'd,
Tho' by a faithless Lover griev'd,
A growing tree she had not found,
To keep her Tip-toes from the ground.
Turn but your Bowsprit to the pole,
And I assure you on parole,
If closely you pursue your Nose,
You'll find the place which we propose;
The people who this land possesses,
Live quietly, and pay their Cesses,
They fear the Lord, and till the ground,
And love a Creed that's short and sound;
'Tis true, their speech is not so pointed,
Nor with screw'd Looks their face disjointed;
If scant of Theory, their Practice
Supplies that want, which most exact is.
206
Nor covet much new Reformations;
They are not for new Paths, but rather
Each one joggs after his old father;
In other things discreet and sober,
Their Zeal no warmer than October:
Tho' stately, which is much admir'd,
Their Zeal and Courage too were fir'd,
Which makes me mind a good old Tale
My Good-dame told, “Tread on a Snail,
‘Tho' she be simple, yet no doubt
‘The Snail her horns will put out.”
With Zeal and Avarice possest,
Our Reformators could not rest,
Till of this place they got possession,
And forc'd on it their new Confession;
When arguments could not prevail,
And all their other Acts did fail,
Once more they rendezvous the Rabble,
To plant the Kirk with Gun and Shabble;
For tho' it still be frankly granted
By every one that's covenanted,
That Canons are the Pope's engines,
To carry on his black designs,
Found out in Antichristian schools;
Yet Pistols may be pious tools,
And in the Kirk, when militant,
There ought to be no swordless Saint.
Canto IV.
About the ports of Aberdeen
The Hotch-potch Rabble did conveen,
Of different Names, and different Natures,
Complexions, Principles and Features;
Some Hectors, Tories, Bullies, Ranters,
Some True-blue Saints and Covenanters,
Old Consuls, and old Fornicators,
Were now become new Reformators,
Both Messengers of God and Sathan,
And many of the tribe of Dathan;
Some Pharisees and Hypocrites,
Consultors, Scribes and Parasites,
Mechanicks some, and Aqueductors,
And Proppers of old ruin'd structures.
Some who liv'd, as my author tells,
Not by the Kirk, but by the Bells.
Malignants too did help afford
To fight the battles of the Lord,
Which was the cause (as say the Godly)
That they came off so very oddly;
Some of the Mob, spur'd on with Conscience,
And some with Maggot, some with Nonsense,
But most of all, as wise men think,
Went not so much to fight as drink.
Thus fifty Troopers, and some more,
Armed as we have said before,
With Infantry, which made a force
Equal in number to the Horse,
Set forward all with one accord,
Leaving the city Bon-accord,
Inspir'd with mighty Resolution,
Because they fear'd no opposition:
Some were for this Kirk, some for that Kirk,
And some no mortal knows for what Kirk:
Yet all of them their course did steer
To storm and take the Kirk of Deer.
The Hotch-potch Rabble did conveen,
Of different Names, and different Natures,
Complexions, Principles and Features;
207
Some True-blue Saints and Covenanters,
Old Consuls, and old Fornicators,
Were now become new Reformators,
Both Messengers of God and Sathan,
And many of the tribe of Dathan;
Some Pharisees and Hypocrites,
Consultors, Scribes and Parasites,
Mechanicks some, and Aqueductors,
And Proppers of old ruin'd structures.
Some who liv'd, as my author tells,
Not by the Kirk, but by the Bells.
Malignants too did help afford
To fight the battles of the Lord,
Which was the cause (as say the Godly)
That they came off so very oddly;
Some of the Mob, spur'd on with Conscience,
And some with Maggot, some with Nonsense,
But most of all, as wise men think,
Went not so much to fight as drink.
Thus fifty Troopers, and some more,
Armed as we have said before,
With Infantry, which made a force
Equal in number to the Horse,
Set forward all with one accord,
Leaving the city Bon-accord,
Inspir'd with mighty Resolution,
Because they fear'd no opposition:
Some were for this Kirk, some for that Kirk,
And some no mortal knows for what Kirk:
Yet all of them their course did steer
To storm and take the Kirk of Deer.
Perhaps the reader here may wonder,
How Tories could commit this Blunder,
And in a Presbyterian quarrel
Expose themselves to certain peril;
They only did what hath been done;
There's nothing new beneath the sun.
A myter'd head, born in our nation,
Oppos'd the Scottish Toleration,
And still this Prelate boldly ventures
To plead and write for the Dissenters.
How Tories could commit this Blunder,
And in a Presbyterian quarrel
Expose themselves to certain peril;
208
There's nothing new beneath the sun.
A myter'd head, born in our nation,
Oppos'd the Scottish Toleration,
And still this Prelate boldly ventures
To plead and write for the Dissenters.
Yea, more, a certain author, who
The plotting trade doth nicely know,
Hath trac'd the Revolution's spring,
And tells a Hogan Mogan King,
Who sav'd our land from Superstition,
Despotick power, and Inquisition,
The only Presbyterian prop,
Yet was an Ally to the Pope,
And did the Romish See advance
Against the growing power of France.
Now, if a Prelate for Dissenters
Can set his wit upon the Tenters,
If Rome can with Geneva join,
To carry on a good design,
If such a Prince could make a shift
To lend to Antichrist a lift,
Who then can doubt but Tories might
For Whigs with a good conscience fight,
To plant and propagate a Schism?
'Tis plainly prov'd by Syllogism.
The plotting trade doth nicely know,
Hath trac'd the Revolution's spring,
And tells a Hogan Mogan King,
Who sav'd our land from Superstition,
Despotick power, and Inquisition,
The only Presbyterian prop,
Yet was an Ally to the Pope,
And did the Romish See advance
Against the growing power of France.
Now, if a Prelate for Dissenters
Can set his wit upon the Tenters,
If Rome can with Geneva join,
To carry on a good design,
If such a Prince could make a shift
To lend to Antichrist a lift,
Who then can doubt but Tories might
For Whigs with a good conscience fight,
To plant and propagate a Schism?
'Tis plainly prov'd by Syllogism.
The night preceeding the engagement,
Some Scouts went off from the Kirk Reg'ment,
Designing for to view the Trenches,
But were oppos'd by warlike Wenches,
Whose Man-like courage soon did stop,
And routed the Forlorn-hope:
These Wenches with Scar-crows were armed,
By which our Troopers sore were harmed,
By swinging these about their heads,
Most of the Riders lost their Steeds,
And, stuned with the martial sound,
Dropt topsie-turvie to the ground;
The rest, opprest with pannick fear,
Kept at a distance in the rear.
The Captain was a man of force,
Who closely sticking to his horse,
With mighty valour forward prest,
Commanding to bring up the rest,
Upbraiding all the silly Pack,
Who to the Women turn'd their back.
Mean time a Plow-man, with a Pattle,
Engag'd the Captain close in battle,
And very quickly made him stand,
By wounding him in the Sword-hand.
When flying Foes are in a Terror,
Not to pursue must be an error.
At Cannæ, where fierce Hannibal
Kill'd Romans like a cannibal,
His March to Rome had he intended,
He'd sack'd the Town, and the War ended;
He would not take it when he could,
Nor after could he when he would.
But here there was a wiser Crew,
Who did their Victory pursue,
Finding their foes in bad condition,
March'd up, and seiz'd their Ammunition,
With all their Wine, and other Forage,
In which lay all the Troopers courage:
This News when the Kirk-army heard,
The consequences much they fear'd,
And every one did greatly dread
Next day what would to this succeed.
Now finding what they scarce suppos'd,
That they were like to be oppos'd
In their design of Kirk-Plantation,
They fell into a Consternation,
And many, who at first seem'd keen,
Wish'd now to be at Aberdeen.
Some Scouts went off from the Kirk Reg'ment,
Designing for to view the Trenches,
But were oppos'd by warlike Wenches,
Whose Man-like courage soon did stop,
And routed the Forlorn-hope:
These Wenches with Scar-crows were armed,
By which our Troopers sore were harmed,
By swinging these about their heads,
Most of the Riders lost their Steeds,
209
Dropt topsie-turvie to the ground;
The rest, opprest with pannick fear,
Kept at a distance in the rear.
The Captain was a man of force,
Who closely sticking to his horse,
With mighty valour forward prest,
Commanding to bring up the rest,
Upbraiding all the silly Pack,
Who to the Women turn'd their back.
Mean time a Plow-man, with a Pattle,
Engag'd the Captain close in battle,
And very quickly made him stand,
By wounding him in the Sword-hand.
When flying Foes are in a Terror,
Not to pursue must be an error.
At Cannæ, where fierce Hannibal
Kill'd Romans like a cannibal,
His March to Rome had he intended,
He'd sack'd the Town, and the War ended;
He would not take it when he could,
Nor after could he when he would.
But here there was a wiser Crew,
Who did their Victory pursue,
Finding their foes in bad condition,
March'd up, and seiz'd their Ammunition,
With all their Wine, and other Forage,
In which lay all the Troopers courage:
This News when the Kirk-army heard,
The consequences much they fear'd,
And every one did greatly dread
Next day what would to this succeed.
Now finding what they scarce suppos'd,
That they were like to be oppos'd
In their design of Kirk-Plantation,
They fell into a Consternation,
210
Wish'd now to be at Aberdeen.
Canto V.
A Counsellor, renown'd by fameFor ruling Judgments that are lame,
Rose and address'd himself to Ralph,
The Guardian of his better half;
“The adverse Mob seem resolute,
‘Said he, to keep our Forces out;
‘No Law nor Reason can prevail
‘Against a Rustick with a Flail;
‘When Handy-blows come in the play,
‘Both Law and Reason must give way;
‘No Rhetorick, nor Logick term,
‘Can then secure our Bones from harm;
‘It is in vain to think that words
‘Can guard us for from these Stones and Swords;
‘So further, Sir, ere we proceed,
‘To chuse a Leader we have need.”
Ralph vouched all he said was true,
Desiring he would range the Crew:
Then he was chosen Gen'ral by luck,
Not for his Courage, but his Conduct;
Who, for his Qualities, may pass
Under the name of Hudibras:
Only, 'tis said, the fatal Sisters
Had twisted Courage to his Whiskers,
Whereas our Knight that day had shav'd,
Which was the cause he misbehav'd;
To Sampson you might him compare,
He lost his Vigour with his Hair.
211
In Line of battle, Foot and Horse,
In Middle of the other Rout
Appear'd a Miller, stern and stout,
Who boldly, without asking leave,
Caught an old Bailie by the sleeve,
And, in a rage, began to swear,
“You Whig-fac'd Knave, you gain'd your gear,
‘And all you have on earth, among us,
‘What Devil tempts you now to wrong us?
‘But, since you have us thus provoked,
‘I wish I hang, if we were yoked,
‘But I shall neatly tan your Hide,
‘So long's my Lewder does abide.”
On which the Bailie thought it best,
Lest that his Doublet should be drest,
To fly from face of such a Rabble,
That did appear so formidable.
This put our Captain in some doubt,
To see the Enemy so stout,
And his own men so cowardly,
That Carles threats made them to fly,
Yet he embraced the command,
And to do feats he took in hand;
Of victory he made no doubt,
When all his forces be call'd out,
In line of battle to appear,
With all the Clergy in the Rear;
With Whigs and Salters in the centre,
Where none but hardy men durst venture,
And all the Tories in the Front.
Mean time a Midden he did mount,
His Courage then made him so witless,
In rage and fury to draw Cutlace.
This Cutlace was a peaceful thing,
As ever was in Numa's reign:
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And never witness'd wounds or death,
Nor thumping Handy-blows, nor Knocks,
Save once upon a Chamber-box,
Which did occasion mighty grudging,
In the poor Blade to leave its lodging;
It cost some pains to force it out,
To save its Master from the Rout;
Yet, after tugging and hard pulling,
A token that it was unwilling
To do much harm, it came abroad,
To serve its friends, the Men of God.
Some do affirm, this trusty Shabble
Was consecrate to fright the Rabble,
And that the Kirk devoutly had,
Wrote Faith's Defender on the Blade.
First, he commanded Mr Justice,
In whose good conduct no small trust is,
In form of Law, at a due distance,
To ask the warriours assistance;
Then to advance to the Kirk-Door,
Attended with his Guard de Corps.
A bulky Messenger, and brawny,
Of a complexion somewhat tawny,
With sullen aspect led the Van,
On Mr Justice his right-hand;
And one, who never did succeed
In planting Kirks, the left did lead;
By whose advice the Mob proceeded,
A little further than they needed.
At the first prospect of resistance,
Some sculking stood at a great distance,
Until the first assault was over,
That they some courage might recover,
Resolving, if the Van were victors,
To follow on as stout as Hectors,
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To make their Heels defend their Head:
They judged it a piece of folly,
To venture upon the first Volley;
But had the En'my chanc'd to yield,
They'd been the foremost in the field.
Thus when Sir Mastiff stands his Ground,
Though snarling eurs do him surround,
And all the other cow'rdly whelps,
At distance stands and loudly yelps,
With tusks unsheath'd, the Croud he dares:
But if he chance to turn his arse,
The meanest Cur of Turnspit-race,
Will be the foremost in the Chace.
The Hero, who led on the right,
Had seized many a Squire and Knight,
And made them yield at his discretion,
Without the least capitulation;
Yea, instances can be produc'd,
That he more Rebels hath reduc'd,
To their Allegiance back again,
Than Staremberg hath done in Spain.
This Hero, with his friend, assaulted
With fury while the Rabble halted;
And loudly call'd, not to retard
The Engineer with his petard;
Not doubting he the Style would open,
Or else by force would get it broken;
But he no courage had to venture,
Betwixt the army's Front and Centre,
Yet quickly he found this excuse,
Why he his orders did refuse;
“The adverse Mob, upon suspicion,
‘Hath lately seiz'd our Ammunition,
‘By which 'tis plainly understood,
‘That my Engines can do no good.”
That which their courage most inspir'd,
Was, that the Mob at first retir'd;
But they no sooner did attack
The Gate, than they were driven back,
With many a Pelt upon their skin,
By Wives who lin'd the walls within.
A meagre Fellow, with thick Lips,
Run first a Preacher through the Hips,
Which was the Signal fix'd upon,
For Male and Female to fall on;
Then in the Front with stones they maul'd them,
And in the Rear with Cudgels gall'd them.
A certain Female call'd the Twitter,
Laid Ratio Sacra in the gutter,
Who, prostrate so, with life at stake,
Cry'd out aloud for Mercy's sake.
He lay in peril for to smother,
Untill a young malignant brother
Came up, who lost his thumb sinister
Rescuing the fanatick minister.
Thus he, who was to Saints a stranger,
Rescued the Saint from present danger,
And in a very proper season,
Set up the Oracle of Reason,
Who, being raised from his fall,
Was now a two leg'd animal,
And featherless, which is the nature
And notion of a human creature.
Then having made some whining faces,
And most emphatical Grimaces,
With hands lift up he gave a sob,
And then bespoke the adverse Mob
With serious expostulation,
Imploring only a Cessation
Of Arms, for a little season,
Untill by force of solid Reason
The business he might debate,
By Argument or Postulate,
Desiring any of the Foes,
Either to answer or propose,
As they inclin'd, and they should find him,
With Reason ready for to bind 'em,
And evidently mak't appear
They took the wrong Sow by the ear.
Had seized many a Squire and Knight,
And made them yield at his discretion,
Without the least capitulation;
Yea, instances can be produc'd,
That he more Rebels hath reduc'd,
To their Allegiance back again,
Than Staremberg hath done in Spain.
This Hero, with his friend, assaulted
With fury while the Rabble halted;
And loudly call'd, not to retard
The Engineer with his petard;
Not doubting he the Style would open,
Or else by force would get it broken;
But he no courage had to venture,
Betwixt the army's Front and Centre,
Yet quickly he found this excuse,
Why he his orders did refuse;
“The adverse Mob, upon suspicion,
‘Hath lately seiz'd our Ammunition,
‘By which 'tis plainly understood,
‘That my Engines can do no good.”
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Was, that the Mob at first retir'd;
But they no sooner did attack
The Gate, than they were driven back,
With many a Pelt upon their skin,
By Wives who lin'd the walls within.
A meagre Fellow, with thick Lips,
Run first a Preacher through the Hips,
Which was the Signal fix'd upon,
For Male and Female to fall on;
Then in the Front with stones they maul'd them,
And in the Rear with Cudgels gall'd them.
A certain Female call'd the Twitter,
Laid Ratio Sacra in the gutter,
Who, prostrate so, with life at stake,
Cry'd out aloud for Mercy's sake.
He lay in peril for to smother,
Untill a young malignant brother
Came up, who lost his thumb sinister
Rescuing the fanatick minister.
Thus he, who was to Saints a stranger,
Rescued the Saint from present danger,
And in a very proper season,
Set up the Oracle of Reason,
Who, being raised from his fall,
Was now a two leg'd animal,
And featherless, which is the nature
And notion of a human creature.
Then having made some whining faces,
And most emphatical Grimaces,
With hands lift up he gave a sob,
And then bespoke the adverse Mob
With serious expostulation,
Imploring only a Cessation
Of Arms, for a little season,
Untill by force of solid Reason
215
By Argument or Postulate,
Desiring any of the Foes,
Either to answer or propose,
As they inclin'd, and they should find him,
With Reason ready for to bind 'em,
And evidently mak't appear
They took the wrong Sow by the ear.
Then from the Croud a Plough-man prest,
And thus in haste the Priest addrest,
Without the usual Decorum
Of Preface, standing close before him,
“Why come you here in manner hostile?”
Quoth he, We come to preach the gospel.
‘Where read you in the holy Word,
‘Of gospelizing with the Sword?
‘What Scripture text can you alledge
‘To prove your martial Equipage?
‘Of Mahomet I've heard it said,
‘That his Religion thus he spread;
‘You seem Apostles of the Turk—”
Peter, quoth he, had Sword and Durk,
And us'd them too, as is most clear,
In cutting off of Malchus' ear.
“You misapply, and mince the Text,
‘Pray read the words which follow next,
‘And there, I think, you'l find a word
‘Which to the Sheath condemns the Sword;
‘And the Apostle, who did use it,
‘Did in the end but slightly rule it!”
Quoth he, we must compel th'unwilling.
“But not by Force, nor yet by killing;
‘Such rugged bloody disposition
‘Smells rankly of the Inquisition,
‘Where Rack, and Wheel, and Fire, and Faggot,
‘Confutes all Reason, and the Maggot
‘Of conscience, and with Stripes and Knocks
‘Makes Heretics turn Orthodox;
‘And forces them their Faith to alter,
‘Or else converts them in a Halter.”
“Sir, if you are such Argumenters,
And thus in haste the Priest addrest,
Without the usual Decorum
Of Preface, standing close before him,
“Why come you here in manner hostile?”
Quoth he, We come to preach the gospel.
‘Where read you in the holy Word,
‘Of gospelizing with the Sword?
‘What Scripture text can you alledge
‘To prove your martial Equipage?
‘Of Mahomet I've heard it said,
‘That his Religion thus he spread;
‘You seem Apostles of the Turk—”
Peter, quoth he, had Sword and Durk,
And us'd them too, as is most clear,
In cutting off of Malchus' ear.
“You misapply, and mince the Text,
‘Pray read the words which follow next,
‘And there, I think, you'l find a word
‘Which to the Sheath condemns the Sword;
‘And the Apostle, who did use it,
‘Did in the end but slightly rule it!”
Quoth he, we must compel th'unwilling.
“But not by Force, nor yet by killing;
‘Such rugged bloody disposition
‘Smells rankly of the Inquisition,
‘Where Rack, and Wheel, and Fire, and Faggot,
‘Confutes all Reason, and the Maggot
‘Of conscience, and with Stripes and Knocks
‘Makes Heretics turn Orthodox;
216
‘Or else converts them in a Halter.”
‘And by such means persuade Dissenters,
‘We mean to give you some small sport,
‘And your own Arguments retort;
‘And you, I hope, will be content,
‘Whatever may be the event
‘Which in this doubtful Skirmish happens,
‘Since we make use of your own Weapons:
‘No man of Houour will refuse
‘To fight, if he the Weapons chuse.”
Quoth he, but you must know the Laws
Do now support the good Old Cause;
If you oppose, the Judges sentence,
At last, will force you to Repentance;
You'd better now forbear from crimes,
Than mourn for them in after-times.
“Sir, what you call the good Old Cause,
‘Appears so full of Cracks and Flaws,
‘No Art nor Skill the same can solder,
‘It grows the crazier the older,
‘And now is put to a hard shift,
‘When Tories come to lend a lift,
‘And Kirk-dragoons are rais'd to back
‘The Gospel-work you undertake;
‘Besides the Revolution Foot
‘By standing long hath got the Gout,
‘And, prest with useless burden, maugre
‘All faint supports, begins to stagger;
‘The Kirk, which hath no more foundation,
‘But fickle people's inclination,
‘Whene'er the Mob begins to grumble,
‘The tottering Fabric down must tumble,
217
‘Portends the downfal of the Steeple.”
This Conference being fully ended,
And yet the matter nothing mended;
The Gen'ral call'd a Buchan laird,
The Captain of the Clergy's guard.
To march, with all his chosen force
Which he had brought, both Foot and Horse,
Who came on purpose, I suppose,
The adverse Party to oppose,
Since thrawn Trees do always splinder
Best with a Wedge of their own Timber.
Then, in obedience to command,
He marched up with Sword in hand;
But to the Guard 'ere he had spoken,
By chance his Honour's head was broken;
Which so disordered his Skull,
That his attempt was rend'red null,
Yet from the Kirk he got applause,
For losing Blood in the Old-Cause.
Next him was plac'd a foreign Factor,
Who first resolv'd to be an Actor,
But when he saw the Fray begin,
The fear Minheer had for his skin,
And weakness of his constitution,
Made him to change his Resolution;
Then he with earnestness did pray,
That the propitious Gods, that day,
To save him from the Rabbie's knocks,
Would turn him to a Butter-box.
The Mob, regardless of his prayers,
As they were of his Neighbour's tears,
In fury, with their Trees and Stones,
First broke his head, then beat his bones.
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If any will a Sloop provide
To take me off, I here do swear
I never shall again see Deer.
A Chapman next, with face like flambo,
And buttocks wrapt in Dantzick shambo,
Who lov'd to sleep in a whole skin,
Before the Battle did begin,
Resolving not to die a Martyr
For Presbbyt'ry, cry'd out for Quarter;
The dismal thoughts of Blood and Wounds,
Made him to fall in frequent Swoons.
At last, awak'ning out of Trance,
Resolv'd no farther to advance;
Then retrogade, with all his might,
He moves to save himself by flight,
Until a Wife, who knew he oft
Her Plaiden-web in Market coft,
Had pity on his wreck'd condition,
And took him under her tuition;
She felt his Pulse, and found him panting,
And him to save from further fainting,
In Pantry-nook the Wife did close him,
And with a double-Gill did dose him.
The cordial scarcely reach'd his heart,
When Crack of Gun made him to start,
And vent a foul flegmatic F---t,
Which proves what's said, that panic fear
Oft forces passage thro' the Rear.
The dreadful Terror that possest him,
Made him to pray the Wife to nest him;
She quickly yields to all he begs,
And shelters him betwixt her Legs,
And buttocks wrapt in Dantzick shambo,
Who lov'd to sleep in a whole skin,
Before the Battle did begin,
Resolving not to die a Martyr
For Presbbyt'ry, cry'd out for Quarter;
The dismal thoughts of Blood and Wounds,
Made him to fall in frequent Swoons.
At last, awak'ning out of Trance,
Resolv'd no farther to advance;
Then retrogade, with all his might,
He moves to save himself by flight,
Until a Wife, who knew he oft
Her Plaiden-web in Market coft,
Had pity on his wreck'd condition,
And took him under her tuition;
She felt his Pulse, and found him panting,
And him to save from further fainting,
In Pantry-nook the Wife did close him,
And with a double-Gill did dose him.
The cordial scarcely reach'd his heart,
When Crack of Gun made him to start,
And vent a foul flegmatic F---t,
Which proves what's said, that panic fear
Oft forces passage thro' the Rear.
The dreadful Terror that possest him,
Made him to pray the Wife to nest him;
She quickly yields to all he begs,
And shelters him betwixt her Legs,
So once a reverend Son of Levi,
The Females Darling, Mr DAVY,
When for the good Old-Cause pursu'd,
His goddess Venus him rescu'd,
Moving a godly sighing Sister,
To hide the Saint, in his great Mister,
In the same bed with her own Daughter,
Where sweet inbearing Truths he taught her;
To Venus altar he did bow,
His Thanks and Gratitude to shew;
And worship'd, on his bended Knees,
Among the pleasant Cherry-Trees.
A Weather-beaten son of Mars,
The Females Darling, Mr DAVY,
219
His goddess Venus him rescu'd,
Moving a godly sighing Sister,
To hide the Saint, in his great Mister,
In the same bed with her own Daughter,
Where sweet inbearing Truths he taught her;
To Venus altar he did bow,
His Thanks and Gratitude to shew;
And worship'd, on his bended Knees,
Among the pleasant Cherry-Trees.
With long Toledo at his arse,
For many warlike Actions fam'd,
Which never were, nor can be nam'd,
Both Wealth and Honour long had sought
In bloody Fields, yet seldom fought,
Now, weary with the Tuck of Drum,
Came home to storm a widow's Bum,
Laid by his Helmet and his Shield,
To cultivate a barren Field;
With care he shunned Wounds and Scars,
Except it were in holy Wars,
That is to say, in Whig Kirk planting,
Where people's inclination's wanting,
And there he mighty Feats had done,
In company with John Gilon,
His bonus Genius and attendant,
Then Whig, but now he's Independent;
Like Proteus, it is his hap,
Most frequently to change his Shape,
And many Turnings he hath made
In his Religion and his Trade:
This Hero, hearing of the Fray,
Could not in Conscience be away;
Lest that the Project should miscarry,
He thought his Presence necessary,
220
But was the first who did retire.
Canto VI.
What Mortal can recount the perilsOf those who live by broils and quarrels,
And who do gain their daily bread
By knocking others on the head?
How oft doth fortune, (Pox upon her,)
Plague and confound these men of Honour?
And, like a Pedant, jerks the Arse
Of th'truant disciples of Mars?
A learned Author, pro comperto,
Proves, Dulce bellum inexperto.
No Mortal ever did deny it,
If any do, then let him try it.
They'll find it but a foolish Game,
To lose their Legs to purchase Fame,
And stand till Foes their Bones do batter,
To furnish Gazette-writers matter.
Now of all Wars th'ecclesiastic
Is certainly the most fantastic,
And none lie oftner in the Lurch
Than Janizaries of the Church;
And so it happened in this Battle,
Where Kirk-men ran like Buchan cattle,
Nor durst Kirk errant-knights adventure,
With Sword in hand the Kirk to enter;
The Passes were so stoutly guarded,
Aud all the Croud with Stones bombarded;
They could no longer keep their station,
But, studying Self-preservation,
The stoutest, who the Legions headed,
And who, at first, no danger dreaded,
221
But, losing heart and resolution,
They thought it safest to be trudging
Backward in haste unto their Lodging:
And many of the Tribe had need
To run for Plaisters to their head.
No sooner did the Amazons
Discharge a Volley of big stones,
And Buchan Plow-men charge with Flails,
But Front and Rear turn'd all their Tails,
And Kirk-knight-errants ran with speed,
And every one got on his Steed;
Nor needs the Reader long demur,
To know if then they us'd the Spur;
Whatever use they made of Bridle,
The Spur and Whip were never idle;
Which makes the thing to be admir'd,
That men with Zeal so much inspir'd,
Rode faster home, spurr'd on with fear,
Than they advanced to Old-Deer.
End of the Third Decade.
| The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston | |