THE TRIUMPHS

OF

LOVE AND ANTIQUITY.

The Triumphs of Loue and Antiquity. An Honourable Solemnitie performed through the Citie, at the confirmation and establishment of the Right Honourable Sir William Cockayn, Knight, in the office of his Maiesties Lieutenant, the Lord Maior of the Famous Citie of London: Taking beginning in the morning at his Lordships going, and perfecting it selfe after his returne from receiuing the oath of Maioralty at Westminster, on the morrow after Symon and Judes Day, October 29. 1619. By Tho: Middleton. Gent. London, Printed by Nicholas Okes. 1619. 4to.

Reprinted in Nichols’s Progresses of King James, vol. iii. p. 570.

To the honour of him to whom the noble Fraternity of Skinners, his worthy brothers, have dedicated their loves in costly Triumphs, the Right Honourable Sir William Cockaine, Knight, Lord Mayor of this renowned City, and Lord General of his Military Forces.

Love, triumph, honour, all the glorious graces
This day holds in her gift; fix’d eyes and faces
Apply themselves in joy all to your look;
In duty, then, my service and the book,
At your Lordship’s command,
Tho. Middleton.
THE TRIUMPHS
OF
LOVE AND ANTIQUITY.

If foreign nations have been struck with admiration at the form, state, and splendour of some yearly triumphs, wherein Art[330] hath been but weakly imitated and most beggarly worded, there is fair hope that things where invention flourishes, clear Art and her graceful proprieties should receive favour and encouragement from the content of the spectator, which, next to the service of his honour and honourable Society, is the principal reward it looks for; and not despairing of that common favour—which is often cast upon the undeserver, through the distress and misery of judgment—this takes delight to present itself.

And first, to begin early with the love of the city to his lordship, let me draw your attentions to his honour’s entertainment upon the water, where Expectation, big with the joy of the day, but beholding[331] to free love for language and expression, thus salutes the great master of the day and triumph.

The speech to entertain his lordship upon the water.
Honour and joy double their blessings on thee!
I, the day’s love, the city’s general love,
Salute thee in the sweetness of content;
All that behold me worthily may see
How full mine eye stands of the joy of thee;
The more, because I may with confidence say
Desert and love will be well match’d to-day;
And herein the great’st pity will appear,
This match can last no longer than a year;
Yet let not that discourage thy good ways,
Men’s loves will last to crown thy end of days;
If those should fail, which cannot easily die,
Thy good works wed thee to eternity.
Let not the shortness, then, of time dismay
The largeness of thy worth, gain every day;
So, many years thou gain’st that some have lost;
For they that think their care is at great cost,
If they do any good in time so small,
They make their year but a poor day in all;
For, as a learnèd man will comprehend,
In compass of his hour, doctrine so sound,
Which give another a whole year to mend,
He shall not equal upon any ground;
So the judicious, when he comes to bear
This powerful office, struck with divine fear,
Collects his spirits, redeems his hours with care,
Thinks of his charge and oath, what ties they are;
And with a virtuous resolution then
Works more good in one year than some in ten:
Nor is this spoken any to detract,
But all t’ encourage to put truth in act.
Methinks I see oppression hang the head,
Falsehood and injury with their guilt struck dead,
At this triumphant hour; ill causes hide
Their leprous faces, daring not t’ abide
The brightness of this day; and in mine ear
Methinks the Graces’ silver chimes I hear.
Good wishes are at work now in each heart,
Throughout this sphere of brotherhood play their part;
Chiefly thy noble own fraternity,
As near in heart as they’re in place to thee,
The ensigns of whose love bounty displays,
Yet esteems all their cost short of thy praise.
There will appear elected sons of war,
Which this fair city boasts of, for their care,
Strength, and experience, set in truth of heart,
All great and glorious masters in that art
Which gives to man his dignity, name, and seal,
Prepar’d to speak love in a noble peal,
Knowing two triumphs must on this day dwell,
For magistrate one, and one for coronel:[332]
Return lord-general, that’s the name of state
The soldier gives thee, peace the magistrate.
On then, great hope! here that good care begins,
Which now earth’s love and heaven’s hereafter wins.

At his lordship’s return from Westminster, those worthy gentlemen whose loves and worths were prepared before in the conclusion of the former speech by water, are now all ready to salute their lord-general with a noble volley at his lordship’s landing; and in the best and most commendable form, answerable to the nobleness of their free love and service, take their march before his lordship, who, being so honourably conducted, meets the first Triumph by land waiting his lordship’s most wished arrival in Paul’s-Churchyard, near Paul’s-Chain, which is a Wilderness, most gracefully and artfully furnished with divers kind of beasts bearing fur, proper to the fraternity; the presenter the musical Orpheus, great master both in poesy and harmony, who by his excellent music drew after him wild beasts, woods, and mountains; over his head an artificial cock, often made to crow and flutter with his wings. This Orpheus, at the approach of his lordship, gives life to these words:

The speech delivered by Orpheus.
Great lord, example is the crystal glass
By which wise magistracy sets his face,
Fits all his actions to their comeliest dress,
For there he sees honour and seemliness:
’Tis not like flattering glasses, those false books
Made to set age back in great courtiers’ looks;
Like clocks on revelling nights, that ne’er go right,
Because the sports may yield more full delight,
But when they break off, then they find it late,
The time and truth appear:[333] such is their state
Whose death by flatteries is set back awhile,
But meets ’em in the midst of their safe smile;
Such horrors those forgetful things attend,
That only mind their ends, but not their end.
Leave them to their false trust, list thou to me;
Thy power is great, so let thy virtues be,
Thy care, thy watchfulness, which are but things
Remember’d to thy praise; from thence it springs,
And not from fear of any want in thee,
For in this truth I may be comely free,—
Never was man advanc’d yet waited on
With a more noble expectation:
That’s a great work to perfect; and as those
That have in art a mastery can oppose
All comers, and come off with learnèd fame,
Yet think not scorn still of a scholar’s name,
A title which they had in ignorant youth,—
So he that deals in such a weight of truth
As th’ execution of a magistrate’s place,
Though never so exact in form and grace,
Both from his own worth and man’s free applause,
Yet may be call’d a labourer in the cause,
And be thought good to be so, in true care
The labour being so glorious, just, and fair.
Behold, then, in a rough example here,
The rude and thorny ways thy care must clear;
Such are the vices in a city sprung,
As are yon thickets that grow close and strong;
Such is oppression, cozenage, bribes, false hires,
As are yon catching and entangling briers;
Such is gout-justice, that’s delay in right,
Demurs in suits that are as clear as light;
Just such a wilderness is a commonwealth
That is undrest, unprun’d, wild in her health;
And the rude multitude the beasts a’ the wood,
That know no laws, but only will and blood;
And yet, by fair example, musical grace,
Harmonious government of the man in place,
Of fair integrity and wisdom fram’d,
They stand as mine do, ravish’d, charm’d, and tam’d:
Every wise magistrate that governs thus,
May well be call’d a powerful Orpheus.
Behold yon bird of state, the vigilant cock,
The morning’s herald and the ploughman’s clock,
At whose shrill crow the very lion trembles,
The sturdiest prey-taker that here assembles;
How fitly does it match your name and power,
Fix’d in that name now by this glorious hour,
At your just voice to shake the bold’st offence
And sturdiest sin that e’er had residence
In secure man, yet, with an equal eye,
Matching grave justice with fair clemency!
It being the property he chiefly shews,
To give wing-warning still before he crows,
To crow before he strike; by his clapt wing
To stir himself up first, which needful thing
Is every man’s first duty; by his crow,
A gentle call or warning, which should flow
From every magistrate; before he extend
The stroke of justice, he should reprehend
And try the virtue of a powerful word,
If that prevail not, then the spur, the sword.
See, herein honours to his majesty
Are not forgotten, when I turn and see
The several countries, in those faces plain,
All owing fealty to one sovereign;
The noble English, the fair-thriving Scot,
Plain-hearted Welsh, the Frenchman bold and hot,
The civilly instructed Irishman,
And that kind savage the Virginian,
All lovingly assembled, e’en by fate,
This thy day’s honour to congratulate.
On, then; and as your service fills this place,
So through the city do his lordship grace.

At which words this part of Triumph moves onward, and meets the full body of the show in the other Paul’s-Churchyard; then dispersing itself according to the ordering of the speeches following, one part, which is the Sanctuary of Fame, plants itself near the Little Conduit in Cheap; another, which hath the title of the Parliament of Honour, at St. Laurence-Lane end. Upon the battlements of that beauteous sanctuary, adorned with six-and-twenty bright-burning lamps, having allusion to the six-and-twenty aldermen—they being, for their justice, government, and example, the lights of the city—a grave personage, crowned with the title and inscription of Example, breathes forth these sounds:

Example.
From that rough wilderness, which did late present
The perplex’d state and cares of government,
Which every painful magistrate must meet,
Here the reward stands for thee,—a chief seat
In Fame’s fair Sanctuary, where some of old,
Crown’d with their troubles, now are here enroll’d
In memory’s sacred sweetness to all ages;
And so much the world’s voice of thee presages.
And these that sit for many, with their graces
Fresh as the buds of roses, though they sleep,
In thy Society had once high places,
Which in their good works they for ever keep;
Life call’d ’em in their time honour’s fair stars,
Large benefactors, and sweet governors.
If here were not sufficient grace for merit,
Next object, I presume, will raise thy spirit.

In this masterpiece of art, Fame’s illustrious Sanctuary, the memory of those worthies shine[s] gloriously that have been both lord mayors of this city and noble benefactors and brothers of this worthy fraternity; to wit, Sir Henry Barton, Sir William Gregory, Sir Stephen Jennings, Sir Thomas Mirfen, Sir Andrew Judd, Sir Wolstone Dixie, Sir Stephen Slany, Sir Richard Saltonstall, and now the right honourable Sir William Cockaine.

That Sir Henry Barton, an honour to memory, was the first that, for the safety of travellers and strangers by night through the city, caused lights to be hung out from Allhollontide[334] to Candlemas; therefore, in this Sanctuary of Fame, where the beauty of good actions shine[s], he is most properly and worthily recorded.

His lordship by this time gracefully conducted toward that Parliament of Honour, near St. Laurence-Lane end, Antiquity, from its eminence, thus gloriously salutes him:

Antiquity, in the Parliament of Honour.
Grave city-governor, so much honour do me,
Vouchsafe thy presence and thy patience to me,
And I’ll reward that virtue with a story,
That shall to thy fraternity add glory;
Then to thy worth no mean part will arise,
That art ordain’d chief for that glorious prize.
’Tis I that keep all the records of fame,
Mother of truths, Antiquity my name;
No year, month, day, or hour, that brings in place
Good works and noble, for the city’s grace,
But I record, that after-times may see
What former were, and how they ought to be
Fruitful and thankful, in fair actions flowing,
To meet heaven’s blessings, to which much is owing.
For instance, let all grateful eyes be plac’d
Upon this mount of royalty, by kings grac’d,
Queens, prince, dukes, nobles, more by numbering gain’d
Than can be in this narrow sphere contain’d;
Seven kings, five queens, only one prince alone,
Eight dukes, two earls, Plantagenets twenty-one;
All these of this fraternity made free,
Brothers and sisters of this Company:
And see with what propriety the Fates
Have to this noble brotherhood knit such states;[335]
For what society the whole city brings
Can with such ornaments adorn their kings,—
Their only robes of state, when they consent
To ride most glorious to high parliament?
And mark in this their royal intent still;
For when it pleas’d the goodness of their will
To put the richest robes of their loves on
To the whole city, the most ever came
To this Society, which records here prove,
Adorning their adorners with their love;
Which was a kingly equity.
Be careful then, great lord, to bring forth deeds
To match that honour that from hence proceeds.

At the close of which speech the whole Triumph takes leave of his lordship for that time; and, till after the feast at Guildhall, rests from service. His lordship, accompanied with many noble personages; the honourable fellowship of ancient magistrates and aldermen of this city; the two new sheriffs, the one of his own fraternity (the complete Brotherhood of Skinners), the right worshipful master sheriff Dean, a very bountiful and worthy citizen; not forgetting the noble pains and loves of the heroic captains of the city, and gentlemen of the Artillery-garden,[336] making, with two glorious ranks, a manly and majestic passage for their lord-general, his lordship, thorough Guildhall-yard; and afterward their loves to his lordship resounding in a second noble volley.

Now, that all the honours before mentioned in that Parliament, or Mount of Royalty, may arrive at a clear and perfect manifestation, to prevent[337] the over-curious and inquisitive spirit, the names and times of those kings, queens, prince, dukes, and nobles, free of the honourable Fraternity of Skinners in London, shall here receive their proper illustrations.

Anno 1329. King Edward the Third, Plantagenet, by whom, in the first of his reign, this worthy Society of Skinners was incorporate, he their first royal founder and brother: queen Philip his wife, younger daughter of William Earl of Henault, the first royal sister; so gloriously virtuous that she is a rich ornament to memory; she both founded and endowed Queen’s College in Oxford, to the continuing estate of which I myself wish all happiness; this queen at her death desired three courtesies, some of which are rare in these days; first, that her debts might be paid to the merchants; secondly, that her gifts to the church might be performed; thirdly, that the king, when he died, would at Westminster be interred with her.

Anno 1357. Edward Plantagenet, surnamed the Black Prince, son to Edward the Third, Prince of Wales, Duke of Guienne, Aquitaine, and Cornwall, Earl Palatine of Chester. In the battle of Poictiers in France, he, with 8000 English against 60,000 French, got the victory; took the king, Philip his son, seventeen earls, with divers other noble personages, prisoners.

King Richard the Second, Plantagenet. This king being the third royal brother of this honourable Company, and at that time the Society consisting of two brotherhoods of Corpus Christi, the one at St. Mary Spittle, the other at St. Mary Bethlem without Bishopsgate, in the eighteenth of his reign granted them to make their two brotherhoods one, by the name of the Fraternity of Corpus Christi of Skinners, which worthy title shines at this day gloriously amongst ’em; and toward the end of this king’s reign, 1396, a great feast was celebrated in Westminster Hall, where the lord mayor of this city sate as guest.

Anno 1381. Queen Anne, his wife, daughter to the Emperor Charles the Fourth, and sister to [the] Emperor Wenceslaus, whose modesty then may make this age blush now, she being the first that taught women to ride sideling on horseback; but who it was that taught ’em to ride straddling, there is no records so immodest that can shew me, only the impudent time and the open profession. This fair precedent of womanhood died at Sheen, now Richmond; for grief whereof King Richard her lord abandoned and defaced that goodly house.

Anno 1399. King Henry the Fourth, Plantagenet, surnamed Bolingbroke, a fourth royal brother. In his time the famous Guildhall in London was erected, where the honourable courts of the city are kept, and this bounteous feast yearly celebrated. In the twelfth year of his reign the river of Thames flowed thrice in one day.

Queen Joan, or Jane, Duchess of Bretagne, late wife to John Duke of Bretagne, and daughter to the King of Navarre, another princely sister.

Anno 1412. King Henry the Fifth, Plantagenet, Prince of Wales, proclaimed Mayor and Regent of France: he won that famous victory on the French at the battle of Agincourt.

Queen Catherine, his wife, daughter to Charles the Sixth, King of France.

King Henry the Sixth, Plantagenet, of the house of Lancaster.

King Edward the Fourth, Plantagenet, of the house of York. This king feasted the lord mayor, Richard Chawry, and the aldermen his brethren, with certain commoners, in Waltham Forest: after dinner rode a-hunting with the king, who gave him plenty of venison, and sent to the lady mayoress and her sisters the aldermen’s wives, two harts, six bucks, and a tun of wine, to make merry; and this noble feast was kept at Drapers’ Hall.

Anno 1463. Queen Elizabeth Grey, his wife, daughter to Richard Woodville, Earl Rivers, and to the Duchess of Bedford; she was mother to the Lord Grey of Ruthin, that in his time was Marquis Dorset.

King Richard the Third, brother to Edward the Fourth, Duke of Gloucester, and of the house of York.

Lionel Plantagenet, third son to the third Edward, Duke of Clarence and Earl of Ulster: Philip his daughter and heir married Edward Mortimer, Earl of March, from whom the house of York descends.

Henry Plantagenet, grandchild to Edmond Crouchback, second son to Henry the Third.

Richard Plantagenet, father of Edward the Fourth, Duke of York and Albemarle, Earl of Cambridge, Rutland, March, Clare, and Ulster.

Thomas Plantagenet, second son of Henry the Fourth.

John Plantagenet, third son of Henry the Fourth; so noble a soldier, and so great a terror to the French, that when Charles the Eighth was moved to deface his monument—being buried in Rouen—the king thus answered,—“Pray, let him rest in peace being dead, of whom we were all afraid when he lived.”

Humfrey Plantagenet, fourth son of Henry the Fourth.

John Holland, Duke of Exeter.

George Plantagenet, brother to Edward the Fourth.

Edmond Plantagenet, brother to Edward the Fourth.

Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury and Warwick, called the Great Earl of Warwick.

John Cornwall Knight, Baron Fanhope.

The royal sum.

Seven kings, five queens, one prince, seven dukes, one earl; twenty-one Plantagenets.

Seven kings, five queens, one prince, eight dukes, two earls, one lord; twenty-four Skinners.

The feast ended at Guildhall, his lordship, as yearly custom invites it, goes, accompanied with the Triumph before him, towards St. Paul’s, to perform the noble and reverend ceremonies which divine antiquity religiously ordained, and are[338] no less than faithfully observed. Holy service and ceremonies accomplished, his lordship returns by torchlight to his own house, the whole Triumph placed in comely and decent order before him; the Wilderness; the Sanctuary of Fame, adorned with lights; the Parliament of Honour; and the Triumphant Chariot of Love, with his graceful concomitants, the chariot drawn with two luzerns.[339] Near to the entrance of his lordship’s gate, Love, prepared with his welcome, thus salutes him:

Love.
I was the first, grave lord, that welcom’d thee
To this day’s honour, and I spake it free,
Just as in every heart I found it plac’d,
And ’tis my turn again now to speak last;
For love is circular, like the bright sun,
And takes delight to end where it begun,
Though indeed never ending in true will,
But rather may be said beginning still,
As all great works are of celestial birth,
Of which love is the chief in heaven and earth.
To what blest state then are thy fortunes come,
Since that both brought thee forth and brings thee home?
Now, as in common course, which clears things best,
There’s no free gift but looks for thanks at least;
A love so bountiful, so free, so good,
From the whole city, from thy brotherhood—
That name I ought a while to dwell upon—
Expect some fair requital from the man
They’ve all so largely honour’d: what’s desir’d?
That which in conscience ought to be requir’d;
O, thank ’em in thy justice, in thy care,
Zeal to right wrongs, works that are clear and fair,
And will become thy soul, whence virtue springs,
As those rich ornaments thy brother-kings.
And since we cannot separate love and care—
For where care is, a love must needs be there,
And care where love is, ’tis the man and wife,
Through every estate that’s fix’d in life—
You are by this the city’s bridegroom prov’d,
And she stands wedded to her best belov’d:
Then be, according to your morning vows,
A careful husband to a loving spouse;
And heaven give you great joy,—both it and thee,
And to all those that shall match after ye!

The names of those beasts bearing fur, and now in use with the bountiful Society of Skinners, the most of which presented in the Wilderness, where Orpheus predominates.

Ermine, foine, sables, martin, badger, bear,
Luzern, budge, otter, hipponesse, and hare,
Lamb, wolf, fox, leopard, minx, stot, miniver,
Racoon, moashy, wolverin, caliber,
Squirrel, mole, cat, musk, civet, wild and tame,
Cony, white, yellow, black, must have a name,
The ounce, rowsgray, ginnet, pampilion;
Of birds the vulture, bitter, estridge,[340] swan:
Some worn for ornament, and some for health,
All to the Skinners’ art bring fame and wealth.

The service being thus faithfully performed, both to his lordship’s honour and to the credit and content of his most generously bountiful Society, the season commends all to silence; yet not without a little leave taken to reward art with the comely dues that belong unto it, which hath been so richly expressed in the body of the Triumph with all the proper beauties of workmanship, that the city may, without injury to judgment, call it the masterpiece of her triumphs; the credit of which workmanship I must justly lay upon the deserts of master Garret Crismas[341] and master Robert Norman, joined-partners in the performance.