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Waltoniana Inedited Remains in Verse and Prose of Izaak Walton
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Waltoniana
INEDITED REMAINS IN VERSE AND
PROSE OF IZAAK WALTON
AUTHOR OF THE COMPLETE ANGLER
WITH NOTES AND PREFACE
BY
RICHARD HERNE SHEPHERD
LONDON
1878
Few men who have written books have been able to win so large a
share of
the personal affection of their readers as honest Izaak Walton has
done,
and few books are laid down with so genuine a feeling of regret as
the
“Complete Angler” certainly is, that they are no longer. “One of
the
gentlest and tenderest spirits of the seventeenth century,” we all
know
his dear old face, with its cheerful, happy, serene look, and we
should
all have liked to accompany him on one of those angling excursions
from
Tottenham High Cross, and to have listened to the quaint,
garrulous,
sportive talk, the outcome of a religion which was like his homely
garb,
not too good for every-day wear. We see him, now diligent in his
business,
now commemorating the virtues of that cluster of scholars and
churchmen
with whose friendship he was favoured in youth, and teaching his
young
brother-in-law, Thomas Ken, to walk in their saintly
footsteps,—now
busy with his rod and line, or walking and talking with a friend,
staying
now and then to quaff an honest glass at a wayside
ale-house—leading a
simple, cheerful, blameless life
“Thro' near a century of pleasant years.”[1]
We have said that the reader regrets that Walton should have left
so
little behind him: his “Angler” and his Lives are all that is known
to
most. But we are now enabled to present those who love his memory
with
a collection of fugitive pieces, in verse and prose, extending in
date
of composition over a period of fifty years,—beginning with the
Elegy
on Donne, in 1633, and terminating only with his death in 1683. All
these,
however unambitious, are more or less characteristic of the man,
and
impregnated with the same spirit of genial piety that distinguishes
the
two well-known books to which they form a supplement.
Walton's devotion to literature must have begun at an early age;
for in
a little poem, entitled The Love of Amos and Laura,
published in 1619,
when he was only twenty-six, and attributed variously to Samuel
Purchas,
author of “The Pilgrims,” and to Samuel Page, we find the following
dedication to him:—
“TO MY APPROVED AND MUCH RESPECTED FRIEND, IZ. WA.
“To thee, thou more then thrice beloved friend,
I too unworthy of so great a blisse:
These harsh-tun'd lines I here to thee commend,
Thou being cause it is now as it is:
For hadst thou held thy tongue, by silence might
These have beene buried in obliuious night.
“If they were pleasing, I would call them thine,
And disauow my title to the verse:
But being bad, I needes must call them mine.
No ill thing can be cloathed in thy verse.
Accept them then, and where I have offended,
Rase thou it out, and let it be amended.
“S.P.” [2]
What poems Walton wrote in his youth, we have now no means of
knowing; it
has not been discovered that any have been printed, unless we adopt
the
theory advocated by Mr. Singer,[3] and by a writer in the
“Retrospective
Review,”[4] that the poem of Thealma and Clearchus, which he
published
in the last year of his life, as a posthumous fragment of his
relation
John Chalkhill, was really a juvenile work of his own. Some
plausibility
is lent to this notion by the fact that Walton speaks of the author
with
so much reticence and reserve in his preface to the volume, and
also that
in introducing two of Chalkhill's songs into the “Complete Angler,”
he
does not bestow on them the customary words of commendation. This
theory
has been rebutted by others, who assert that Walton was of too
truthful
and guileless a nature to resort to such an artifice. We confess
that we
are unable to see anything dishonest in the adoption, as a
pseudonym, of
the name of a deceased friend, or anything more than Walton appears
to
have done on another occasion when he published his two letters on
“Love
and Truth.” It is certain, however, that a family of Chalkhills
existed,
with whom Walton was closely connected by his marriage with the
sister of
Bishop Ken. But that an “acquaintant and friend of Edmund Spenser,”
capable of writing such a poem as Thealma and Clearchus,
should have
kept his talents so concealed, that in an age of commendatory
verses no
slightest contemporary record of him exists—is, to say the least,
extraordinary. There are cogent arguments then on both sides of the
question, and there is very little positive proof on either: so we
must
be content to leave the matter in some doubt and obscurity.
The first production to which our author attached the well-known
signature of “Iz. Wa.” was an Elegy on the Death of Dr. Donne, the
Dean
of St. Paul's, prefixed to a collection of Donne's Poems. Walton
was then
forty years of age. From this time forward we find him more or less
engaged, at not very long intervals, on literary labours, till the
very
year of his death.
The care which Walton spent on his productions seems to have been
very
great. He wrote and re-wrote, corrected, amended, rescinded, and
added.
This very poem—the Elegy on Donne—he completely remodelled in his
old
age, when he inserted it in the collection of his Lives. But we
have
thought it well to give the original version here as a literary
curiosity,
and the first work of his that has come down to us. The original
Lives
themselves—especially those of Wotton and Donne—were mere
sketches of
what they are in their present enlarged form.
Walton had the good fortune to be thrown very early in life into
the
society and intimacy of men who were his superiors in rank and
education.
But he had enough of culture, joined to his inherent reverence of
mind,
to appreciate and understand all that they had and he wanted.
The preface to Sir John Skeffington's Heroe of Lorenzo had
for two
centuries lain forgotten, and escaped the notice of Walton's
biographers,
till in 1852 it was discovered by Dr. Bliss of Oxford, and
communicated by
him to the late William Pickering.
The original Spanish work was first published in 1630. The author's
real
name was not Lorenzo, but Balthazar Gracian, a Jesuit of Aragon,
who
flourished during the first half of the seventeenth century, when
the
cultivated style took possession of Spanish prose, and rose to its
greatest consideration.[5] It is a collection of short, wise
apothegms
and maxims for the conduct of life, sometimes illustrated by
stories of
valour, or prowess, or magnanimity, of the old Castilian heroes who
figure
in “Count Lucanor.” The book, though now no longer read, must have
been
very popular at one time, for there exist two or three later
English
versions of it, without, however, the nervous concentration of
style and
idiomatic diction that characterize the translation sent forth to
the
world under Walton's auspices.
The two Letters published in 1680 under the title of Love and
Truth,[6]
were written respectively in the years 1668 and 1679. The evidence
of
their authorship is twofold, and we think quite conclusive. In one
of the
very few copies known to exist, and now in the library of Emanuel
College,
Cambridge, its original possessor, Archbishop Sancroft, has
written:—“Is.
Walton's 2 letters conc. ye Distemp's of ye Times, 1680,” and Dr.
Zouch
appended to his reprint of the tract[7] a number of parallel
passages
from other acknowledged writings of Walton, of themselves almost
sufficient to fix the question on internal evidence alone.
In the British Museum copy of this tract is the following note on
one of
the fly-leaves in the autograph of the late William Pickering:—
“The present is the only copy I have met with after twenty years'
search, excepting the one in Emanuel College, Cambridge. W.
Pickering.”
The copy described above [i.e., the Emanuel College copy]
appears to
be the same edition as the present [that now in the British
Museum], but
has the following variation. After the title-page is printed
The Author to the Stationer
“Mr. Brome,” &c., and the Epistle ends with “Your friend,” without
the
N.N. which is found in this copy. But what is more remarkable, the
printed
word Author is run through, and corrected with a pen, and over it
written
Publisher, which is evidently in the handwriting of Walton.
So Mr.
Pickering further certifies.
The following allusion towards the bottom of p. 37 confirms the
idea of
Walton's authorship. Speaking of Hugh Peters and John Lilbourn, the
writer
says:—“Their turbulent lives and uncomfortable deaths are not I
hope yet
worn out of the memory of many. He that compares them with the holy
life
and happy death of Mr. George Herbert, as it is plainly and I
hope truly
writ by Mr. Isaac Walton, may in it find a perfect pattern for an
humble
and devout Christian to imitate,” &c.
The following are the chief parallel passages in this pamphlet and
in
Walton's other writings, as indicated by Zouch:—
Second Letter, p. 19. Life of George Herbert.
I wish as heartily as you Mr. George Herbert having
do that all such Clergy-mens changed his sword and
Wives as have silk Cloaths silk clothes into a canonical
be-daubed with Lace, and coat, thus warned Mrs. Herbert
their heads hanged about against this egregious folly
with painted Ribands, were of striving for precedency:—
enjoyned Penance for their “You are now a minister's
pride: And their Husbands wife, and must now so far forget
punisht for being so tame, or your father's house, as not
so lovingly-simple, as to suffer to claim a precedence of any
them; for, by such Cloaths, of your parishioners,” &c.
they proclaim their own Ambition,
and their Husbands folly.
And I say the like, concerning
their striving for Precedency.
P. 20. Life of George Herbert.
And, I confess also, what One cure for the wickedness
you say of a Clergy-mans of the times would be,
bidding to fast on the Eves of for the clergy themselves
Holy-days, in Lent, and the to keep the Ember-weeks
Ember Weeks: And I wish strictly, &c.
those biddings were forborn,
or better practised by themselves.
P. 20. Life of George Herbert.
And, I wish as heartily as Those ministers that huddled
you can, that they would not up the church prayers
only read, but pray, the without a visible reverence
Common Prayer; and not and affection: namely, such
huddle it up so fast (as too as semed to say the Lord's
many do) by getting into a Prayer or collect in a breath.
middle of a second Collect,
before a devout Hearer can
say Amen to the first.
Preface to Sanderson's XXI
P. 20. Sermons, 1655.
And now, having unbowelled But since I had thus adventured
my very soul thus to unbowel myself,
freely to you, &c. and to lay open the very inmost
thoughts of my heart.
P.21. Life of Sanderton.
A Corrosive, or (as Solomon Riches so gotten, and added
says of ill-gotten riches) to his great estate, would
like gravel in his teeth. prove like gravel in his teeth.
P. 21. Life of Sir H. Wotton.
Those Bishops and Martyrs It was the advice of Sir
that assisted in this Reformation, Henry Wotton, “Take heed
did not (as Sir Henry Wotton of thinking the farther you go
said wisely) think the farther from the Church of Rome,
they went from the Church of Rome, the nearer you are to God.”
the nearer they got to heaven.
P. 23. Life of Richard Hooker.
To make the Women, the Here the very women and
Shop-keepers, and the middle- shopkeepers were able to judge
witted People ... less of predestination, and determine
busie, and more humble and what laws were fit to
lowly in their own eyes, and be obeyed or abolished.
to think that they are neither
called, nor are fit to meddle
with, and judge of the most
hidden and mysterious points
in Divinity, and Government
of the Church and State.
P. 36. Life of Sanderson.
I desire you to look back Some years before the unhappy
with me to the beginning of Long Parliament, this
the late Long Parliament nation being then happy and
1640, at which time we in peace.
were the quietest and happiest
people in the Christian World.
To the present Editor the collection and annotation of these
Remains has
been a most welcome labour of love. Some of his oldest and most
cherished
memories connect themselves with the author of the “Complete
Angler.” That
book was one of the first that he ever read with real and genuine
delight;
and even before reading days commenced, in the earliest dawn of
memory,
the place where Walton had cut his familiar signature of “Iz. Wa.”
on
Chaucer's tomb in Westminster Abbey, was pointed out to him often
by a
kindred spirit now here no more. The name of Walton will also be
found
enshrined in the earliest prose production[8] to which the Editor
prefixed his own name.
R.H.S.
FOOTNOTES
[1] “Happy old man, whose worth all mankind knows
Except himself, who charitably shows
The ready road to Virtue, and to Praise,
The road to many long, and happy days;
The noble arts of generous piety,
And how to compass true felicity.
——he knows no anxious cares,
Thro' near a Century of pleasant years;
Easy he lives and cheerful shall he die,
Well spoken of by late posterity.”
June 5, 1683.
(Flatman's Commendatory Verses prefixed to “Thealma and
Clearchus;"
Poems and Songs by Thomas Flatman, Third Edition.)
[2] The Love of Amos and Laura. Written by S.P. London. Printed
for
Richard Hawkins, dwelling in Chancery-Lane, neere Serieants
Inne,
1619. Printed at the end of a volume entitled, Alcilia,
Philoparthens
louing Folly, &c., which, from its being signed at the end
with the
initials “J.C.,” has been attributed to Walton's friend, John
Chalkhill, whose posthumous poem, Thealma and Clearchus,
he published
in the last year of his life. The lines to Walton do not appear
in the
earlier quarto edition of the book issued by the same publisher
in 1613,
or in the later quarto of 1628.
[3] Thealma and Clearchus; a Pastoral Romance, by John
Chalkhill.
First Published by Isaac Walton, 1683. A New Edition. Revised
and
Corrected (by S.W. Singer). Chiswick: 1820.
[4] Vol. iv. (1821), pp. 230-249.
[5] Ticknor's History of Spanish Literature (Lond. 1849),
vol. iii.
p. 177.
[6] Love and Truth: / in / Two modest and peaceable / Letters /
concerning / The distempers of the present Times. / Written /
From a quiet and Conformable Citizen of / LONDON, to two busie
and Factious/ Shop-keepers in Coventry./
1 Pet. 4. 15.
But let none of you suffer as a busiebody in other mens /
matters. /
LONDON, / Printed by M.C. for Henry Brome at the
Gun /
in St. Pauls Church-yard. 1680.
COLLATION: 4to. pp. iv. (with Title) 40 (Sig. A 1 and 2;
B to E 4).
[7] York, 1795, pp. x. 70.
[8] The School of Pantagruel, Sunbury, 1862, p. 9.
* * * * *
1633.
[Juvenilia: or Certaine Paradoxes and Problemes, written by I.
Donne.
London, Printed by E.P. for Henry Seyle, and are to be sold at the
signe
of the Tygers head, in Saint Pauls Church-yard, Anno Dom. 1633
(pp. 382-384).
Poems, by J.D. with Elegies on the Author's Death. London.
Printed by
M.F. for JOHN MARRIOT, and are to be sold at his Shop in St.
Dunstans
Church-yard in Fleet-street, 1635.
The text is printed from the revised version of 1635, and the
original
readings of 1633 are given at the foot of the page.]
An Elegie upon DR. DONNE.
Our Donne is dead; England should mourne, may say
We had a man where language chose to stay
And shew her gracefull power.[1] I would not praise
That and his vast wit (which in these vaine dayes
Make many proud) but, as they serv'd to unlock
That Cabinet, his minde: where such a stock
Of knowledge was repos'd, as all lament
(Or should) this generall cause of discontent.
And I rejoyce I am not so severe,
But (as I write a line) to weepe a teare
For his decease; Such sad extremities
May make such men as I write Elegies.
And wonder not; for, when a generall losse
Falls on a nation, and they slight the crosse,
God hath rais'd Prophets to awaken them
From stupifaction; witnesse my milde pen,
Not us'd to upbraid the world, though now it must
Freely and boldly, for, the cause is just.
Dull age, Oh I would spare thee, but th'art worse,
Thou art not onely dull, but hast a curse
Of black ingratitude; if not, couldst thou
Part with miraculous Donne, and make no vow
For thee, and thine, successively to pay
A sad remembrance to his dying day?
Did his youth scatter Poetry, wherein
Was all Philosophy? was every sinne,
Character'd in his Satyrs? Made so foule
That some have fear'd their shapes, and kept their soule
Safer by reading verse? Did he give dayes
Past marble monuments, to those, whose praise
He would perpetuate? Did he (I feare
The dull will doubt:) these at his twentieth year?
But, more matur'd; Did his full soule conceive,
And in harmonious-holy-numbers weave
A [2]_Crown of sacred sonnets, fit to adorne
A dying Martyrs brow: or, to be worne
On that blest head of Mary Magdalen,
After she wip'd Christs feet, but not till then?
Did hee (fit for such penitents as shee
And he to use) leave us a Litany,
Which all devout men love, and sure, it shall,
As times grow better, grow more classicall?
Did he write Hymnes, for piety, for wit,[3]
Equall to those, great grave Prudentius writ?
Spake he all Languages? knew he all Lawes?
The grounds and use of Physick; but because
'Twas mercenary, wav'd it? Went to see
That blessed place of Christs nativity?
Did he returne and preach him? preach him so
As since S. Paul none did, none could? Those know,
(Such as were blest to heare him) this is truth.[4]
Did he confirm thy aged?[5] convert thy youth?
Did he these wonders? And is this deare losse
Mourn'd by so few? (few for so great a crosse.)
But sure the silent are ambitious all
To be Close Mourners at his Funerall;
If not; In common pitty they forbare
By repetitions to renew our care;
Or, knowing, griefe conceiv'd, conceal'd, consumes
Man irreparably, (as poyson'd fumes
Doe waste the braine) make silence a safe way,
To'inlarge the Soule from these walls, mud and clay,
(Materials of this body) to remaine
With Donne in heaven, where no promiscuous pain
Lessens the joy we have, for, with him, all
Are satisfy'd with joyes essentiall.
Dwell on this joy my thoughts; oh, doe not call[6]
Griefe back, by thinking of his Funerall;
Forget hee lov'd mee; Waste not my sad yeares;
(Which hast to Davids seventy,) fill'd with feares
And sorrow for his death; Forget his parts,
Which finde a living grave in good mens hearts;
And, (for, my first is dayly payd for sinne)
Forget to pay my second sigh for him:
Forget his powerfull preaching; and forget
I am his Convert. Oh my frailty! let
My flesh be no more heard, it will obtrude
This lethargy: so should my gratitude,
My flowes[7] of gratitude should so be broke;
Which can no more be, than Donnes vertues spoke
By any but himselfe; for which cause, I
Write no Encomium, but this Elegie,[8]
Which, as a free-will-offring, I here give
Fame, and the world, and parting with it grieve
I want abilities, fit to set forth
A monument, great, as Donnes matchlesse worth.
IZ. WA.
FOOTNOTES
[1] In the edition of 1633, the poem opens thus:—
Is Donne, great Donne deceas'd? then England
say
Thou'hast lost a man where language chose to stay
And shew it's gracefull power, &c.
[2] La Corona.
[3] for piety and wit,—1633.
[4] As none but hee did, or could do? They know
(Such as were blest to heare him know) 'tis truth.—1633.
[5] age in the edition of 1633.
[6] My thoughts, Dwell on this Joy, and do not call—1633.
[7] vowes in the edition of 1633.
[8] Write no Encomium, but an Elegie.
Here the poem closed in the edition of 1633.
* * * * *
LINES ON A PORTRAIT OF DONNE IN
HIS EIGHTEENTH YEAR.
1635.
[Engraved under William Marshall's Portrait of Donne, “Anno Domini.
1591.
Aetatis suae 18,” prefixed to the second edition of Donne's Poems,
1635.]
This was for youth, Strength, Mirth, and wit that Time
Most count their golden Age; but t'was not thine.
Thine was thy later yeares, so much refind
From youths Drosse, Mirth &wit; as thy pure mind
Thought (like the Angels) nothing but the Praise
Of thy Creator, in those last, best Dayes.
Witnes this Booke, (thy Embleme) which begins
With Love; but endes, with Sighes, &Teares for sin's.
IZ: WA:
* * * * *
COMMENDATORY VERSES PREFIXED TO
THE MERCHANTS MAPPE OF
COMMERCE.
1638.
[The Merchants Mappe of Commerce: wherein the Universall Manner and
Matter
of Trade, is compendiously handled. By Lewes Roberts, Merchant. At
London,
Printed by R.O. for Ralph Mabb MDCXXXVIII. fol.
—The Second Edition, Corrected and much Enlarged. London, MDCLXXI.
fol.]
TO THE READER.
If thou would'st be a States-man, and survay
Kingdomes for information; heres a way
Made plaine, and easie: fitter far for thee
Then great Ortelius his Geographie.
If thou would'st be a Gentleman, in more
Then title onely; this MAP yeelds thee store
Of Observations, fit for Ornament,
Or use, or to give curious eares content.
If thou would'st be a Merchant, buy this Booke:
For 'tis a prize worth gold; and doe not looke
Daily for such disbursements; no, 'tis rare,
And should be cast up with thy richest ware.
READER, if thou be any, or all three;
(For these may meet and make a harmonie)
Then prayse this Author for his usefull paines,
Whose aime is publike good, not private gaines.
IZ. WA.
* * * * *
PREFACE TO QUARLES'S SHEPHERD
ORACLES.
1645.
[The Shepheards Oracles: Delivered in Certain Eglogues. By Fra:
Quarles.
London, Printed by M.F. for John Marriot and Richard Marriot, and
are to
be sold at their shop in S. Dunstans Church-yard Fleetstreet, under
the
Dyall. 1646.]
READER,
Though the Authour had some years before his lamented death,
compos'd,
review'd, and corrected these Eglogues; yet, he left no Epistle to
the
Reader, but onely a Title, and a blanke leafe for that purpose.
Whether he meant some Allegoricall exposition of the Shepheards
names, or
their Eglogues, is doubtfull: but 'tis certain, that as they are,
they
appear a perfect pattern of the Authour; whose person, and minde,
were
both lovely, and his conversation such as distill'd pleasure,
knowledge,
and vertue, into his friends and acquaintance.
'Tis confest, these Eglogues are not so wholly divine as many of
his
publisht Meditations, which speak his affections to be set upon
things
that are above, and yet even such men have their intermitted
howres, and
(as their company gives occasion) commixtures of heavenly and
earthly
thoughts.
You are therefore requested to fancy him cast by fortune into the
company
of some yet unknown Shepheards: and you have a liberty to beleeve
'twas
by this following accident.
“He in a Sommers morning (about that howre when the great eye of
Heaven
first opens it selfe to give light to us mortals) walking a gentle
pace
towards a Brook (whose Spring-head was not far distant from his
peacefull
habitation) fitted with Angle, Lines, and Flyes: Flyes proper for
that
season (being the fruitfull Month of May;) intending all
diligence to
beguile the timorous Trout, (with which that watry element
abounded)
observ'd a more then common concourse of Shepheards, all bending
their
unwearied steps towards a pleasant Meadow within his present
prospect,
and had his eyes made more happy to behold the two fair
Shepheardesses
Amaryllis and Aminta strewing the foot-paths with
Lillies, and
Ladysmocks, so newly gathered by their fair hands, that they yet
smelt
more sweet then the morning, and immediately met (attended with
Clora
Clorinda, and many other Wood-nymphs) the fair and vertuous
Parthenia:
who after a courteous salutation and inquiry of his intended
Journey,
told him the neighbour-Shepheards of that part of Arcadia had
dedicated
that day to be kept holy to the honour of their great God Pan
; and,
that they had designed her Mistresse of a Love-feast, which was to
be
kept that present day, in an Arbour built that morning, for that
purpose;
she told him also, that Orpheus would bee there, and bring
his Harp,
Pan his Pipe, and Titerus his Oaten-reed, to make
musick at this
feast; shee therefore perswaded him, not to lose, but change that
dayes
pleasure; before he could return an answer they were unawares
entred into
a living mooving Lane, made of Shepheard and Pilgrimes; who had
that
morning measured many miles to be eye-witnesses of that days
pleasure;
this Lane led them into a large Arbour, whose wals were made of the
yeelding Willow, and smooth Beech boughs: and covered over with
Sycamore
leaves, and Honysuccles.”
I might now tell in what manner (after her first entrance into this
Arbour)
Philoclea (Philoclea the fair Arcadian
Shepheardesse) crown'd her
Temples with a Garland, with what flowers, and by whom 'twas made;
I might
tell what guests (besides Astrea and Adonis) were at
this feast; and
who (beside Mercury) waited at the Table, this I might tell:
but may not,
cannot expresse what musick the Gods and Wood-nymphs made within;
and the
Linits, Larks, and Nightingales about this Arbour, during this holy
day:
which began in harmlesse mirth, and (for Bacchus and his
gang were
absent) ended in love and peace, which Pan (for he onely can
doe it)
continue in Arcadia, and restore to the disturbed Island of
Britannia,
and grant that each honest Shepheard may again sit under his own
Vine and
Fig-tree, and feed his own flock, and with love enjoy the fruits of
peace,
and be more thankfull.
Reader, at this time and place, the Authour contracted a friendship
with
certain single-hearted Shepheards: with whom (as he return'd from
his
River-recreations) he often rested himselfe, and whilest in the
calm
evening their flocks fed about them, heard that discourse, which
(with the
Shepheards names) is presented in these Eglogues.
23 Novem. 1645.
* * * * *
COUPLET ON DR. RICHARD SIBBES.
1650.
[Written by Izaak Walton in his copy of Dr. Richard Sibbes's work,
The
Returning Backslider, 4'10., 1650, preserved in the Cathedral
Library,
Salisbury. See Sir Harris Nicolas' Memoir of Walton, clv.]
Of this blest man let this just praise be given,
Heaven was in him, before he was in heaven.
IZAAK WALTON.
* * * * *
DEDICATION OF RELIQUIAE
WOTTONIANAE.
1651.
[Reliquiae Wottonianae, or, a Collection of Lives, Letters, Poems;
with
Characters of Sundry Personages: and other Incomparable Pieces of
Language
and Art. By The curious Pensil of the Ever Memorable Sr. Henry
Wotton,
Kt., Late, Provost of Eton Colledg. London, Printed by Thomas
Maxey, for
R. Marriot, G. Bedel, and T. Garthwait. 1651.]
{ KATHERIN STANHOP.
THE LADY { MARGARET TUFTON.
{ ANN HALES.
Since Bookes seeme by custome to Challenge a dedication, Justice
would
not allow, that what either was, or concern'd Sir Henry Wotton,
should be
appropriated to any other Persons; Not only for that nearnesse of
Aliance
and Blood (by which you may chalenge a civil right to what was
his;) but,
by a title of that intirenesse of Affection, which was in you to
each
other, when Sir Henry Wotton had a being upon Earth.
And since yours was a Friendship made up of generous Principles, as
I
cannot doubt but these indeavours to preserve his Memory wil be
acceptable
to all that lov'd him; so especially to you: from whom I have had
such
incouragements as hath imboldned me to this Dedication. Which you
are
most humbly intreated may be accepted from
Your very reall servant,
I. W.
* * * * *
ON THE DEATH OF WILLIAM
CARTWRIGHT.
1651.
[Comedies, Tragi-Comedies, with other Poems, by Mr. William
Cartwright,
late Student of Christ-Church in Oxford, and Proctor of the
University.
London, Printed for Humphrey Moseley, and are to be sold at his
Shop, at
the sign of the Prince's Arms in St. Pauls Church-yard, 1651.]
I cannot keep my purpose, but must give
Sorrow and Verse their way; nor will I grieve
Longer in silence; no, that poor, poor part
Of natures legacy, Verse void of Art,
And undissembled teares, CARTWRIGHT shall have
Fixt on his Hearse; and wept into his grave.
Muses I need you not; for, Grief and I
Can in your absence weave an Elegy:
Which we will do; and often inter-weave
Sad Looks, and Sighs; the ground-work must receive
Such Characters, or be adjudg'd unfit
For my Friends shroud; others have shew'd their Wit,
Learning, and Language fitly; for these be
Debts due to his great Merits: but for me,
My aymes are like my self, humble and low,
Too mean to speak his praise, too mean to show
The World what it hath lost in losing thee,
Whose Words and Deeds were perfect Harmony.
But now 'tis lost; lost in the silent Grave,
Lost to us Mortals, lost, 'till we shall have
Admission to that Kingdom, where He sings
Harmonious Anthems to the King of Kings.
Sing on blest Soul! be as thou wast below,
A more than common instrument to show
Thy Makers praise; sing on, whilst I lament
Thy loss, and court a holy discontent,
With such pure thoughts as thine, to dwell with me,
Then I may hope to live, and dye like thee,
To live belov'd, dye mourn'd, thus in my grave;
Blessings that Kings have wish'd, but cannot have.
IZ. WA.
* * * * *
PREFACE TO SIR JOHN SKEFFINGTON'S
HEROE OF LORENZO.
1652.
[The Heroe, of Lorenzo, or, The way to Eminencie and Perfection. A
piece
of serious Spanish wit Originally in that language written, and in
English.
By Sir John Skeffington, Kt. and Barronet. London, printed for John
Martin
and James Allestrye at the Bell in St Pauls Church-yard. 1652.]
That Sir John Skeffington (one of his late Majesties
servants, and a
stranger to no language of Christendom) did about 40 years
now past,
bring this Hero out of Spain into England.
There they two kept company together 'till about 12 months now
past: and
then, in a retyrement of that learned knights (by reason of a
sequestration
for his masters cause) a friend coming to visit him, they fell
accidentally
into a discourse of the wit and galantry of the
Spanish Nation.
That discourse occasioned an example or two, to be brought out of
this
Hero: and, those examples (with Sir John's choice
language and
illustration) were so relisht by his friend (a stranger to the
Spanish
tongue) that he became restles 'till he got a promise from Sir
John
to translate the whole, which he did in a few weeks; and so long as
that
imployment lasted it proved an excellent diversion from his many
sad
thoughts; But he hath now chang'd that Condition, to be possest of
that
place into which sadnesse is not capable of entrance.
And his absence from this world hath occasion'd mee (who was one of
those
few that he gave leave to know him, for he was a retyr'd man) to
tell the
Reader that I heard him say, he had not made the English so
short, or
few words, as the originall; because in that, the Author had
exprest
himself so enigmatically, that though he indevour'd to translate it
plainly; yet, he thought it was not made comprehensible enough for
common
Readers, therefore he declar'd to me, that he intended to make it
so by
a coment on the margent; which he had begun, but (be it spoke with
sorrow)
he and those thoughts are now buried in the silent Grave,[1] and my
self,
with those very many that lov'd him, left to lament that losse.
I.W.
FOOTNOTES
[1] Compare the poem on the death of Cartwright, supra:—
“But now 'tis lost; lost in the silent grave,” &c.
* * * * *
COMMENDATORY VERSE TO THE
AUTHOR OF SCINTILLULA
ALTARIS.
1652.
[Scintillula Altaris or, a Pious Reflection on Primitive Devotion:
as to
the Feasts and Fasts of the Christian Church, Orthodoxally Revived.
By
Edward Sparke, B.D. London; Printed by T. Maxey for Richard
Marriot, and
are to be sold at his Shop in St. Dunstan's Church-yard in
Fleetstreet,
1652.
This book reached a Seventh Edition during Walton's lifetime; but
his
Commendatory Verses are only to be found in the first.]
My worthy friend, I am much pleas'd to know,
You have begun to pay the debt you owe
By promise, to so many pious friends,
In printing your choice Poems; it commends
Both them, and you, that they have been desir'd
By persons of such Judgment; and admir'd
They must be most, by those that best shal know
What praise to holy Poetry we owe.
So shall your Disquisitions too; for, there
Choice learning, and blest piety, appear.
All usefull to poor Christians: where they may
Learne Primitive Devotion. Each Saints day
Stands as a Land-mark in an erring age
to guide fraile mortals in their pilgrimage
To the Coelestiall Can'an; and each Fast,
Is both the souls direction, and repast:
All so exprest, that I am glad to know
You have begun to pay the debt you owe.
IZ. WA.
* * * * *
DEDICATION OF THE LIFE OF DONNE
AND ADVERTISEMENT TO
THE READER.
1658.
[The Life of John Donne, Dr. in Divinity, and Late Dean of Saint
Pauls
Church London. The second impression corrected and enlarged.
Ecclus.48.14.
He did wonders in his life, and at his death his works were
marvelous.
London, Printed by J.G. for R. Marriot, and are to be sold at his
shop
under S. Dunstans Church in Fleet-street. 1658.]
Sir,
When this relation of the life of Doctor Donne was first made
publick, it
had besides the approbation of our late learned &eloquent King, a
conjunction with the Authors most excellent Sermons to support it;
and
thus it lay some time fortified against prejudice; and those
passions that
are by busie and malicious men too freely vented against the dead.
And yet, now, after almost twenty yeares, when though the memory of
Dr.
Donne himself, must not, cannot die, so long as men speak English;
yet
when I thought Time had made this relation of him so like my self,
as to
become useless to the world, and content to be forgotten; I find
that a
retreat into a defired privacy, will not be afforded; for the
Printers
will again expose it and me to publick exceptions; and without
those
supports, which we first had and needed, and in an Age too, in
which
Truth &Innocence have not beene able to defend themselves from
worse then
severe censures.
This I foresaw, and Nature teaching me selfe-preservation, and my
long
experience of your abilities assuring me that in you it may in
found:[1]
to you, Sir, do I make mine addreffes for an umbrage and
protection: and
I make it with so much humble boldnesse, as to say 'twere
degenerous in
you not to afford it.
For, Sir,
Dr. Donne was so much a part of yourself, as to be incorporated
into your
Family, by so noble a friendship, that I may say there was a
marriage of
fouls betwixt him and your[2] reverend Grandfather, who in his life
was an
Angel of our once glorious Church, and now no common Star in
heaven.
And Dr. Donne's love died not with him, but was doubled upon his
Heire,
your beloved Uncle the Bishop of [3] Chichester, that lives in this
froward generation, to be an ornament to his Calling. And this
affection
to him was by Dr. D. so testified in his life, that he then trusted
him
with the very secrets of his soul; &at his death, with what was
dearest
to him, even his fame, estate, &children.
And you have yet a further title to what was Dr. Donne's, by that
dear
affection &friendship that was betwixt him and your parents, by
which
he entailed a love upon yourself, even in your infancy, which was
encreased by the early testimonies of your growing merits, and by
them
continued, till D. Donne put on immortality; and so this
mortall was
turned into a love that cannot die.
And Sir, 'twas pity he was lost to you in your minority, before you
had
attained a judgement to put a true value upon the living beauties
and
elegancies of his conversation; and pitty too, that so much of them
as
were capable of such an expression, were not drawn by the pensil of
a
Tytian or a Tentoret, by a pen equall and more
lasting then their art;
for his life ought to be the example of more then that age in which
he
died. And yet this copy, though very much, indeed too much short of
the
Originall, will present you with some features not unlike your dead
friend,
and with fewer blemishes and more ornaments than when 'twas first
made
publique: which creates a contentment to my selfe, because it is
the
more worthy of him, and because I may with more civility intitle
you to
it.
And in this designe of doing so, I have not a thought of what is
pretended
in most Dedications, a Commutation for Courtesies: no indeed
Sir, I put
no such value upon this trifle; for your owning it will rather
increase my
Obligations. But my desire is, that into whose hands soever this
shall
fall, it may to them be a testimony of my gratitude to your self
and
Family, who descended to such a degree of humility as to admit me
into
their friendship in the dayes of my youth; and notwithstanding my
many
infirmities, have continued me in it till I am become gray-headed;
and as
Time has added to my yeares, have still increased and multiplied
their
favours.
This, Sir, is the intent of this Dedication: and having made the
declaration of it thus publick, I shall conclude it with commending
them
and you to Gods deare love.
I remain, Sir, what your many merits have made me to be,
The humblest of your Servants,
ISAAC WALTON.
My desire is to inform and assure you, that shall become my Reader,
that
in that part of this following discourse, which is onely narration,
I
either speak my own knowledge, or from the testimony of such as
dare do
any thing, rather than speak an untruth. And for that part of it
which is
my own observation or opinion, if I had a power I would not use it
to
force any mans assent, but leave him a liberty to disbelieve what
his own
reason inclines him to.
Next, I am to inform you, that whereas Dr. Donne's life was
formerly
printed with his Sermons, and then had the same Preface or
Introduction
to it; I have not omitted it now, because I have no such confidence
in
what I have done, as to appear without an apology for my
undertaking it.
I have said all when I have wished happinesse to my Reader.
I.W.
FOOTNOTES
[1] Sic: probably a misprint for “be found?”—ED.
[2] John King, B. of Lond.
[3] Hen. King, now B.C.
* * * * *
DAMAN AND DORUS.
AN HUMBLE EGLOG.
29th MAY 1660.
[Songs and other Poems. By Alex. Brome, Gent. London, Printed for
Henry
Brome, at the Gun in Ivy-Lane, 1661.
The Second Edition corrected and enlarged, 1664.
The Third Edition enlarged. London, Printed for Henry Brome, at the
Star
in Little Brittain, 1668.]
DAMAN and DORUS.
DAMAN.
Hail happy day! Dorus sit down:
Now let no sigh, nor let a frown
Lodge near thy heart, or on thy brow.
The King! the King's return'd! and now
Let's banish all sad thoughts and sing
We have our Laws, and have our King.
DORUS.
'Tis true, and I would sing, but oh!
These wars have sunk my heart so low
'Twill not be rais'd.
DAMAN.
What not this day?
Why 'tis the twenty ninth of May:
Let Rebels spirits sink; let those
That like the Goths and Vandals rose
To ruine families, and bring
Contempt upon our Church, our King,
And all that's dear to us, be sad;
But be not thou, let us be glad.
And, Dorus, to invite thee, look,
Here's a Collection in this Book,
Of all those chearful Songs, that we
Have sung so oft and merilie[1]
As we have march'd to fight the cause
Of Gods Anointed, and our Laws
Such Songs as make not the least ods
Betwixt us mortals and the Gods:
Such Songs as Virgins need not fear
To sing, or a grave Matron hear.
Here's love drest neat, and chast, and
gay
As gardens in the month of May;
Here's harmony, and Wit, and Art,
To raise thy thoughts, and chear thy heart.
DORUS.
Written by whom?
DAMAN.
A friend of mine,
And one that's worthy to be thine:
A Civil Swain, that knows his times
For business, and that done makes Rhymes;
But not till then: my Friend's a man
Lov'd by the Muses; dear to Pan:
He blest him with a chearful heart:
And they with this sharp wit and Art,
Which he so tempers, as no Swain,
That's loyal, does or mould complain.
DORUS.
I wou'd fain see him:
DAMAN.
Go with me
Dorus, to yonder broad beech-tree,
There we shall meet him and Phillis,
Perrigot, and Amaryllis,
Tityrus, and his dear Clora,
Tom and Will, and their Pastora:
There wee'l dance, shake hands and sing,
We have our Laws,
God bless the King.
IZ. WALTON.
FOOTNOTES
[1] Have sung with mirth and merry-gle:—1661.
* * * * *
TO MY REVEREND FRIEND THE AUTHOR
OF THE SYNAGOGUE.
1661.
[The Synagogue, or The Shadow of the Temple. Sacred Poems and
Private
Ejaculations. In imitation of Mr. George Herbert. The fourth
Edition
corrected and enlarged. London, Printed for Philemon Stephens, at
the
guilded Lyon in St. Pauls Churchyard, 1661. p. 67.]
Sir,
I lov'd you for your Synagogue, before
I knew your person; but now love you more;
Because I find
It is so true a picture of your mind:
Which tunes your sacred lyre
To that eternal quire;
Where holy Herbert fits
(O shame to prophane wits)
And sings his and your Anthems, to the praise
Of Him that is the first and last of daies.
These holy Hymns had an Ethereal birth:
For they can raise sad souls above the earth
And fix them there
Free from the worlds anxieties and fear.
Herbert and you have pow'r
To do this: ev'ry hour
I read you kills a sin,
Or lets a vertue in
To fight against it; and the Holy Ghost
Supports my frailties, lest the day be lost.
This holy war, taught by your happy pen,
The Prince of Peace approves. When we poor men
Neglect our arms,
W'are circumvested with a world of harms.
But I will watch, and ward,
And stand upon my guard,
And still consult with you,
And Herbert, and renew
My vows; and say, Well fare his, and your heart,
The fountains of such sacred wit and art.
IZ. WA.
* * * * *
EPITAPH ON HIS SECOND WIFE,
ANNE KEN.
1662.
[In Worcester Cathedral. The event is thus recorded by Walton in
his
Family Prayer-Book: “Anne Walton dyed the 17th of April, about one
o'clock
in that night, and was buried in the Virgin Mary's Chapel, in the
cathedral in Worcester, the 20th day.”]
Ex Terris
M.S.
Here lyeth buried so much as
could dye of ANNE, the Wife of
Isaak Walton;
who was
a Woman of Remarkable Prudence,
and of the Primitive Piety; her great
and general knowledge being adorned
with such true humility, and blest
with so much Christian meekness, as
made her worthy of a more memorable
Monument.
She dyed! (Alas, that she is dead!)
the 17th of April, 1662, aged 52.
Study to be like her.
* * * * *
LETTER TO EDWARD WARD
1670.
[Preserved among the MSS. in the Library of Trinity College,
Dublin.
First printed in “Notes and Queries,” May 17, 1856.]
S'r.,
I came well from Winton to London, about 3 weikes past: at that
time I
left Do'r Hawkins well: and my dafter (after a greate danger of
child
berth) not very well, but by a late letter from him, I heare they
be
boeth in good health.
The doctor did tell me a gowne and some bookes of y'rs were in
danger to
be lost, though he had made (at a distance) many inquiries after
them,
and intreated others to doe so too, but yet inefectually. He
theirfore
intreated me to undertake a search: and I have donne it so
succesfuly
that uppon thursday the 24th instant they were d'd to that letter
carryer
that Inns at the Rose in Smithfeild, and with them the Life of M'r.
George
Herbert (and 3 others) wrapt up in a paper and directed to you at
Rodon
Temple, the booke not tyed to the bundell, but of it selfe. The
bundell
cost me 3s. 8d. carryage to London, and I hope it will now come
safe to
your hands.
What I have to write more is my heartie wishes for y'r hapines, for
I am
y'r affec. frend and seruant,
IZAAK WALTON.
Nou'r 26th, 1670.
If you incline to write to me, direct your letter to be left at
M'r.
Grinsells, a grocer in King streite in Westminster. Much good doe
you
with the booke, w'ch I wish better.
* * * * *
DEDICATION OF THE THIRD EDITION
OF RELIQUIAE WOTTONIANAE.
1672.
[Reliquiae Wottonianae: or a Collection of Lives, Letters, Poems;
with
Characters of Sundry Personages: and other Incomparable Pieces of
Language
and Art. Also Additional Letters to several Persons, not before
Printed.
By the Curious Pencil of the Ever Memorable Sir Henry Wotton, K't,
Late
Provost of Eaton Colledge. The Third Edition, with large Additions.
London: Printed by T. Roycroft, for R. Marriott, F. Tyton, T.
Collins,
and J. Ford, 1672.]
MY LORD,
I have conceived many Reasons, why I ought in Justice to Dedicate
these
Reliques of Your Great Uncle, Sir Henry Wotton, to Your Lordship;
some
of which are, that both Your Grand-mother and Mother had a double
Right
to them by a Dedication when first made Publick; as also, for their
assisting me then, and since, with many Material Informations for
the
Writing his Life; and for giving me many of the Letters that have
fallen
from his curious Pen: so that they being now dead, these Reliques
descend
to You, as Heir to them, and the Inheritor of the memorable Bocton
Palace,
the Place of his Birth, where so many of the Ancient, and Prudent,
and
Valiant Family of the Wottons lie now Buried; whose remarkable
Monuments
You have lately Beautified, and to them added so many of so great
Worth,
as hath made it appear, that at the Erecting and Adorning them, You
were
above the thought of Charge, that they might, if possible, (for
'twas no
easie undertaking) hold some proportion with the Merits of Your
Ancestors.
My Lord, These are a part of many more Reasons that have inclin'd
me to
this Dedication; and these, with the Example of a Liberty that is
not
given, but now too usually taken by many Scriblers, to make
trifling
Dedications, might have begot a boldness in some Men of as mean as
my
mean Abilities to have undertaken this. But indeed, my Lord, though
I was
ambitious enough of undertaking it; yet, as Sir Henry Wotton hath
said
in a Piece of his own Character, That he was condemn'd by Nature
to a
bashfulness in making Requests: so I find myself (pardon the
Parallel)
so like him in this, that if I had not had more Reasons then I have
yet
exprest, these alone had not been powerful enough to have created a
Confidence in me to have attempted it. Two of my unexprest Reasons
are,
(give me leave to tell them to Your Lordship and the World)
that Sir
Henry Wotton, whose many Merits made him an Ornament even to Your
Family,
was yet so humble, as to acknowledge me to be his Friend; and died
in a
belief that I was so: since which time, I have made him the best
return
of my Gratitude for his Condescention, that I have been able to
express,
or he capable of receiving: and, am pleased with my self for so
doing.
My other Reason of this boldness, is, an incouragement (very
like a
command) from Your worthy Cousin, and my Friend, Mr. Charles
Cotton, who
hath assured me, that You are such a Lover of the Memory of Your
Generous
Unkle, Sir Henry Wotton, that if there were no other Reason then my
endeavors to preserve it, yet, that that alone would secure this
Dedication from being unacceptable.
I wish, that nor he, nor I be mistaken; and that I were able to
make You
a more Worthy Present.
My Lord, I am and will be
Your Humble and most
Affectionate Servant,
IZAAK WALTON.
Feb. 27, 1672.
* * * * *
LETTER TO MARRIOTT
1673.
[The original is preserved in Corpus Christi College, Oxford, and
was
printed for the first time in Sir Harris Nicolas' Life of Walton
(Pickering, 1837), lxxix, lxxx.]
M'R. MARRIOTT,
I have received Bentevolio, and in it M'r. Her's. life; I thank you
for
both. I have since I saw you received from M'r. Milington so much
of M'r.
Hales his life as M'r. Faringdon had writ; and have made many
inquiries
concerning him of many that knew him, namely of M'rs. Powny, of
Windsor,
(at whose house he died), and as I have heard, so have set them
down, that
my memory might not lose them. M'r. Mountague did at my being in
Windsor
promise me to summon his memory, and set down what he knew of him.
This I
desired him to do at his best leisure, and write it down, and he
that knew
him and all his affairs best of any man is like to do it very well,
because I think he will do it affectionately, so that if M'r.
Fulman make
his queries concerning that part of his life spent in Oxford, he
will
have many, and good, I mean true informations from M'r. Faringdon,
till
he came thither, and by me and my means since he came to Eton.
This I write that you may inform M'r. Fulman of it, and I pray let
him
know I will not yet give over my queries; and let him know that I
hope to
meet him and the Parliament in health and in London in October, and
then
and there deliver up my collections to him. In the mean time I wish
him
and you health; and pray let him know it either by your writing to
him,
or sending him this of mine.
God keep us all in his favour,
his and your friend to serve you,
IZAAK WALTON.
Winchester, 24th August, 1673.
* * * * *
PREFACE TO THEALMA AND
CLEARCHUS.
1678.
[Thealma and Clearchus, a Pastoral History, in smooth and easie
Verse.
Written long since, By John Chalkhill, Esq.; an Acquaintant and
Friend of
Edmund Spencer. London: Printed for Benj. Tooke, at the Ship in S.
Paul's
Church-yard, 1683.]
The Reader will find in this Book, what the Title declares, A
Pastoral
History, in smooth and easie Verse; and will in it find many Hopes
and
Fears finely painted, and feelingly express'd. And he will find the
first
so often disappointed, when fullest of desire and expectation; and
the
later, so often, so strangely, and so unexpectedly reliev'd, by an
unforeseen Providence, as may beget in him wonder and amazement.
And the Reader will here also meet with Passions heightned by easie
and
fit descriptions of Joy and Sorrow; and find also such various
events
and rewards of innocent Truth and undissembled Honesty, as is like
to
leave in him (if he be a good natur'd Reader) more sympathizing and
virtuous Impressions, than ten times so much time spent in
impertinent,
critical, and needless Disputes about Religion: and I heartily wish
it may
do so.
And, I have also this truth to say of the Author, that he was in
his time
a man generally known, and as well belov'd; for he was humble, and
obliging
in his behaviour, a Gentleman, a Scholar, very innocent and
prudent: and
indeed his whole life was useful, quiet, and virtuous. God send the
Story
may meet with, or make all Readers like him.
I.W.[1]
May 7, 1678.
FOOTNOTES
[1] The Poem of Thealma and Clearchus was left in an unfinished
state:
it terminates abruptly with the half line
“Thealma lives”—
Upon which Walton adds
And here the Author dy'd, and I hope the Reader will be sorry.
* * * * *
LETTER TO JOHN AUBREY.
1680.
[The original is amongst Aubrey's MSS. in the Ashmolian Museum:
annexed
to it is the following note by Aubrey: “This account I received
from Mr.
Isaac Walton (who wrote Dr. Donne's Life), &c. Decemb. 2, 1680, he
being
then eighty-seven years of age. This is his own hand-writing, I.A.”
See
Walton's Lives, With Notes and the Life of the Author by Thomas
Zouch,
third edition. York, 1817. Vol. II. pp. 353-356.]
I only knew Ben Jonson: But my Lord of Winton knew him very well;
and
says, he was in the 6th, that is, the uppermost fforme in
Westminster
scole, at which time his father dyed, and his mother married a
brickelayer,
who made him (much against his will) help him in his trade; but in
a short
time, his scolemaister, M'r. Camden, got him a better imployment,
which
was to atend or acompany a son of Sir Walter Rauley's in his
travills.
Within a short time after their return, they parted (I think not in
cole
bloud) and with a love sutable to what they had in their travilles
(not
to be commended). And then Ben began to set up for himself in the
trade
by which he got his subsistance and fame, of which I need not give
any
account. He got in time to have a 100L a yeare from the king, also
a
pension from the cittie, and the like from many of the nobilitie
and some
of the gentry, w'ch was well pay'd, for love or fere of his railing
in
verse, or prose, or boeth. My lord told me, he told him he was (in
his
long retyrement and sickness, when he saw him, which was often)
much
afflickted, that hee had profained the scripture in his playes, and
lamented it with horror: yet that, at that time of his long
retyrement,
his pension (so much as came in) was giuen to a woman that gouern'd
him
(with whome he liu'd and dyed near the Abie in Westminster); and
that
nether he nor she tooke too much care for next weike: and wood be
sure
not to want wine: of w'ch he usually tooke too much before he went
to
bed, if not oftener and soner. My lord tells me, he knowes not, but
thinks he was born in Westminster. The question may be put to Mr.
Wood
very easily upon what grounds he is positive as to his being born
their;
he is a friendly man, and will resolve it. So much for braue Ben.
You will
not think the rest so tedyous as I doe this.
ffor y'r 2 and 3 q'ue of Mr. Hill, and Bilingsley, I do neither
know nor
can learn any thing worth teling you.
for y'r two remaining q'ue of Mr. Warner, and Mr. Harriott this:
Mr. Warner did long and constantly lodg nere the water-stares, or
market,
in Woolstable. Woolstable is a place not far from Charing-Crosse,
and
nerer to Northumberland-house. My lord of Winchester tells me, he
knew
him, and that he sayde, he first found out the cerculation of the
blood,
and discover'd it to Dr. Haruie (who said that 'twas he (himselfe)
that
found it) for which he is so memorally famose. Warner had a pension
of 40l.
a yeare from that Earle of Northumberland that lay so long a
prisner in
the Towre, and som allowance from Sir Tho. Aylesbury, and with whom
he
usually spent his sumer in Windsor Park, and was welcom, for he was
harmles and quet. His winter was spent at the Woolstable, where he
dyed
in the time of the parlement of 1640, of which or whome, he was no
louer.
Mr. Herriott, my lord tells me, he knew also: That he was a more
gentile
man than Warner. That he had 120L a yeare pension from the said
Earle
(who was a louer of their studyes), and his lodgings in Syon-house,
where
he thinks, or believes, he dyed.
This is all I know or can learne for your friend; which I wish may
be
worth the time and trouble of reading it.
I.W.
Nou'r. 22, 80.
* * * * *
1683.
August the 9th, 1683.
In the name of God Amen. I Izaak Walton the elder of Winchester
being
this present day in the neintyeth yeare of my age and in perfect
memory
for wich praysed be God: but Considering how sodainly I may be
deprived
of boeth doe therfore make this my last will and testament as
followeth.
And first I doe [declare] my beleife to be that their is only one
God
who hath made the whole world and me and all mankinde to whome I
shall
give an acount of all my actions which are not to be justified, but
I hope
pardoned for the merits of my saviour Jesus.—And because [the
profession
of] Cristianity does at this time, seime to be subdevided into
papist and
protestant, I take it to be at least convenient to declare my
beleife to
be in all poynts of faith, as the Church of England now professeth.
And
this I doe the rather, because of a very long and very trew
friendmip
with some of the Roman Church.
And for my worldly estate, (which I have nether got by falshood or
flattery or the extreme crewelty of the law of this nation,) I doe
hereby
give and bequeth it as followeth.—First I give my son-in-law
Doc'r.
Hawkins and to his Wife, to them I give all my tytell and right of
or in
a part of a howse and mop in Pater-noster-rowe in London: which I
hold by
lease from the Lord Bishop of London for about 50 years to come and
I
doe also give to them all my right and tytell of or to a howse in
Chansery-lane, London; where in M'rs. Greinwood now dwelleth, in
which is
now about 16 years to come. I give these two leases to them, they
saving
my executor from all damage concerning the same. (And I doe also
give to
my saide dafter all my books this day at Winchester and Droxford:
and
what ever ells I can call mine their, except a trunk of linen w'ch
I give
my son Izaak Walton, but if he doe not marry, or use the saide
linen
himselfe, then I give the same to my grand-doughter Anne Hawkins).
And I give to my son Izaak, all my right and tytell to a lease of
Norington farme, which I hold from the lord B'p. of Winton.
And I doe also give him all my right and tytell to a farme or land
near
to Stafford: which I bought of M'r. Walter Noell: I say, I give it
to him
and [his] heares for ever, but upon the condition following.
Namely—If
my sone shall not marry before he shall be of the age of forty and
one
yeare; or being marryed shall dye before the saide age and leve noe
son
to inherit the saide farme or land: or if his son [or sonns] shall
not
live to ataine the age of twentie and one yeare, to dispose
otherwayes of
it, then I give the saide farme or land to the towne or corperation
of
Stafford (in which I was borne,) for the good and benifit of some
of the
saide towne, as I shall direct and as followeth, but first note,
that it
is at this presant time rented for 21li. 10s. a yeare (and is like
to
hold the said rent, if care be taken to keipe the barne and howsing
in
repaire) and I wood have and doe give ten pownd of the saide rent,
to
binde out yearely two boyes, the sons of honest and pore parents to
be
apprentices to som tradesmen or handy-craftmen, to the intent the
saide
boyes [may] the better afterward get their owne living.—And I doe
also
give five pownd yearly, out of the said rent to be given to some
meade-servant, that hath atain'd the age of twenty and [one] yeare
(not
les), and dwelt long in one servis, or to som honeft pore man's
daughter,
that hath atain'd to that age, to [be] paide her, at or on the day
of her
marriage.
And this being done, my will is, that what rent shall remaine of
the saide
farme or land, shall be disposed of as followeth.
First I doe give twenty shillings yearely, to be spent by the maior
of
Stafford and those that shall colect the said rent: and dispose of
it as
I have and shall hereafter direct. And that what mony or rent shail
remaine undisposed offe shall be imployed to buie coles for some
pore
people, that shall most neide them in the said towne; the saide
coles to
be delivered the last weike in Janewary, or in every first weike in
Febrewary: I say then, because I take that time to be the hardest
and
most pinching times with pore people. And God reward those that
shall doe
this with out partialitie and with honestie and a good contience.
And if the saide maior and others of the saide towne of Stafford,
shall
prove so necligent or dishonest as not to imploy the rent by me
given as
intended and exprest in this my will, (which God forbid,) then I
give the
saide rents and profits, of the saide farme or land, to the towne
and
chiefe magestrats or governers of Ecles-hall, to be disposed by
them in
such maner as I have ordered the disposall of it, by the towne of
Stafford,
the said Farme or land being nere the towne of Ecles-hall.
And I give to my son-in-law Doctor Hawkins, (whome I love as my
owne son)
and to my dafter his wife, and my son Izaak to each of them a ring
with
these words or motto;—love my memory, I.W. obiet = to the Lord B'p
of
Winton a ring with this motto—a mite for a million: I.W. obiet =
“And
to the freinds hearafter named I give to each of them a ring with
this
motto—A friends farewell. I.W. obiet” = and my will is, the said
rings
be delivered within fortie dayes of my deth. and that the price or
valew
of all the saide rings shall be—l3s. 4d. a peice.
I give to Doctor Hawkins Docto'r Donns Sermons; which I have hear'd
preacht, and read with much content, to my son Izaak I give Doc'r
Sibbs
his Soules Conflict and to my doughter his Brewsed Reide
; desiring
them to reade them so, as to be well aquanted with them, and I also
give
to her all my bookes at Winchester and Droxford, and what ever in
those
two places are or I can call mine: except a trunk of linen, which I
gave
to my son Izaak, but if he doe not live to make use of it, then I
give
the same to my grand-dafter, Anne Hawkins: And I give my dafter
Doc'r
Halls Works which be now at Farnham.
To my son Izaak I give all my books, (not yet given) at Farnham
Castell
and a deske of prints and pickters; also a cabinet nere my beds
head, in
w'ch are som littell things that he will valew, tho of noe greate
worth.
And my will and desyre is, that he will be kind to his Ante Beacham
and
his ant Rose Ken: by alowing the first about fiftie shilling a
yeare in
or for bacon and cheise (not more), and paying 4li. a yeare toward
the
bordin of her son's dyut to M'r. John Whitehead. for his ante Ken,
I desyre
him to be kinde to her according to her necessitie and his owne
abillitie.
and I comend one of her children to breide up (as I have saide I
intend
to doe) if he shall be able to doe it as I know he will; for, they
be
good folke.
I give to M'r. John Darbishire the Sermons of M'r. Antony
Faringdon, or
of do'r Sanderson, which my executor thinks fit to my servant,
Thomas
Edghill I give five pownd in mony, and all my clothes linen and
wollen
except one sute of clothes, (which I give to M'r. Holinihed, and
forty
shiling) if the saide Thomas be my servant at my deth, if not my
cloths
only.
And I give my old friend M'r. Richard Marriot ten pownd in mony, to
be
paid him within . 3 . months after my deth. and I desyre my son to
shew
kindenes to him if he shall neide, and my son can spare it.
And I doe hereby will and declare my son Izaak to be my sole
executo'r of
this my last will and testament; and Do'r Hawkins, to see that he
performs
it, which I doubt not but he will.
I desyre my buriall may be nere the place of my deth; and free from
any
ostentation or charg, but privately: this I make to be my last
will, (to
which I only add the codicell for rings,) this 16. day of August,
1683.
Witnes to this will. IZAAK WALTON.
The rings I give are as on the other side.
To my brother Jon Ken. to my brother Beacham.
to my sister his wife. to my sister his wife,
to my brother Docr Ken. to the lady Anne How.
to my sister Pye. to M'rs. King Dor Philips wife.
to M'r. Francis Morley. to M'r. Valantine Harecourt.
to Sr George Vernon. to M'rs. Elyza Johnson.
to his wife. to M'rs. Mary Rogers.
to his 3 dafters to M'rs. Elyza Milward,
to M'rs. Nelson. to M'rs. Doro. Wallop.
to M'r. Rich. Walton. to M'r. Will. Milward of
to M'r. Palmer. Christ-Church, Oxford.
to M'r. Taylor. to M'r. John Darbeshire.
to M'r. Tho. Garrard. to M'r. Veudvill.
to the Lord Bp. of Sarum. to M'rs. Rock.
to M'r. Rede his Servant. to M'r. Peter White.
to my Coz. Dorothy Kenrick. to M'r. John Lloyde.
to my Coz. Lewin. to my Coz Greinsells
to M'r. Walter Higgs. ——widow
to M'r. Cha Cotton. 16 M'rs. Dalbin must not
to M'r. Rich. Marryot. be forgotten.
——
22
Note that several lines are blotted }
out of this will for they are twice }
repeted: And, that this will is now } IZAAK WALTON
signed &sealed, this twenty and }
fourth day of October 1683 in the }
presence of us— }
Witnes, Abra. Markland.
Jos: Taylor,
Thomas Crawley.