The True Englishmans Complaints, Poem
Vox & Lacrimae Anglorum: OR, The True Engliſh—mens COMPLAINTS, To their Repreſentatives in PARLIAMENT.
Humbly tendred to their ſerious Conſideration at their next ſitting, February the 6th. 1667-68.
By reaſon of the Multitude of Oppreſſions, they make the oppreſſed to cry. They cry out, by reaſon of the Arm of the Mighty. Job 35. 9.
And in every Province whitherſoever the Kings Commandment, and his Decree came, there was great Mourning, and Fasting, and Weeping and Wayling. Eſth. 4. 3.
Printed in the Year 1668.
To the Parliament.
THeſe Lines had kiſs'd your Hands October laſt,
But were ſuſpended till the time was paſt;
Becauſe we hop'd you were about to do
That which this just Complaint incites you to;
It is our duty, to put you in mind
Of that great Work which yet doth lag behind:
Our Grief and Woes do force us loud to cry,
And call on you for ſpeedy Remedy;
Which was the moving Cauſe of theſe our Tears,
That you may know our Sufferings and our Fears.
And Providence now having led the way
To give it birth; peruſe it well we pray.
And do not take it for an old Wives ſtory,
But know the Nations Griefs lie here before ye:
Though in ſhort hints, yet here, as in a Map,
With eaſe you'l ſee the cauſe of our Miſhap.
There's not a free-born Engliſh Protestant,
But ſets both hand and heart to this Complaint.
Vox & Lacrimae Anglorum.
REnowned Partiots, open your Eyes,
And lend an ear to th' Juſtice of our cries;
As you are Engliſh men (our blood and bones)
Know 'tis your duty to regard our Groans;
On you, next God, our confidence relies,
You are the Bulwarks of our Liberties.
Within your Walls was voted-in our King,
For joy whereof our ſhouts made England sing,
And to make him a great and glo…ious Prince,
Both you and we have been at great expence.
Full Five and twenty hundred thouſand pound,
(By you enacted) ſince hath been paid down,
Our Cuſtoms to a vaſt Revenew come;
Our Fiſhing-money, no inferiour ſum.
That old Ale-ſpoiling trade of the Exciſe,
Doth yearly to a maſs of money riſe;
Beſides the Additional of Royal Aid,
And Chimney-money, which is yearly paid.
Oft have our heads by Polls been ſadly ſhorn,
With money from poor Servants Wages torn.
Our Dunkirk yeelded many a thouſand pound,
(Tis eaſier far to ſell than gain a Town.)
With forc'd Benevolence, and other things,
Enough t'enrich a dozen Daniſh Kings,
Million on million on the Nations back,
Yet we and all our Freedoms go to wrack.
We hop'd when firſt theſe heavy Taxes roſe,
Some ſhould be uſ'd to ſcare away our foes,
Or beat them, till (like Gibeonites) they bring
Their Grandees ready haltred to our King;
Or make them buckle, and their points untruſs;
As they did when the Motto, God with VsUs.
But Oh! inſtead of this, our cruel Fate
Hath made us like a Widow, deſolate.
Our Houſes ſadly burnt about our ears,
Our Wives & Children ſenſleſs made with fears;
Our Warlike Ships, in which our ſafety lay,
Unto our daring foes are made a prey.
Our Forts and Caſtles, which ſhould guard our Land,
Juſt like old Nunneries and Abbies ſtand.
And long before our Inland-Towns demur'd,
That Sea and Land alike might be ſecur'd.
Our Magazines, which did abound with ſtore,
Like us (ſad Engliſh-men) are very poor.
Our Trade is loſt, our Merchants are undone,
Yeomen and Farmers, all to Ruine run.
Thoſe that our fatal Battels fought, neglected;
And ſwearing, damme, cowardly Rogues protected.
Our gallant Seamen(once the world did dread)
For want of Pay, are metamorphoſed:
Whilſt their ſad Widows & poor Orphans weep.
Whoſe dear Relations periſht in the deep;
And to augment and aggravate their grief,
At the Pay-office find but cold relief;
Many a month are forc'd to wait and ſtay,
To ſeek the price of blood, dead Husbands pay.
The ſober People, who our Trade advanced,
Throughout our Nation quite diſcountenanced.
It grieves our hearts that we ſhould live to ſee
True Virtue pnniſhed, and Vice go free.
Thouſands there be that could not hurt a worm,
Impriſoned were, 'cauſe they cannot conform.
Others exil'd, and from Relations ſent,
We know not why, but being innocent.
Whilſt Romes black Locuſts menace us with ſtorms
Like Egypts Frogs, about the Kingdom ſwarms.
Our penal Laws are never executed
Againſt thoſe Vermin, which our Land polluted,
Only to blind and hoodwink us (alas)
An Edict paſſes to prohibir Maſs,
With ſuch a latitude, as moſt men ſay,
It's like its Sire, the Oath Et caetera.
But prais'd be God for Peace, that's very clear;
But on what terms th' Event will make appear;
We dread leſt it ſhould be more to our coſt,
Than when Amboyna Spicery was loſt.
They treat with Rod in hand, our Buttocks bare;
Judge what the iſſues of ſuch Treaties are.
Thus ſick, ye Worthies, ſick our Nation lies,
And none but God can cure her maladies.
Thoſe that ſhould chear her in your interval,
Like dull Quack-ſalvers, make her ſpirits fail:
Turn ſhe her wither'd face to whom ſhe will,
All that ſhe gets is but a purging Pill.
If any of her Children for her cry,
Her cruel Empricks uſe Phlebotomy.
That wholſom Phyſick which ſhould cleanſe her blood,
They do detain, inflaming what is good.
This for a long time hath bad humours bred,
Which ſends up filthy vapours to the head.
All wiſe men judge, if theſe extreams endure;
'Twill period in a mad-brain'd Calenture.
Then, O ye Worthies, now for Heavens ſake,
Some pitty on your gaſping Country take.
Call to account thoſe Leeches of the State,
Who from their truſt deeply prevaricate;
Who have of Engliſh Coin exhauſted more,
Than would ten Cuer-de-Lions home reſtore.
Who like perfideous and deceitful Elves,
Ruine the Nation to enrich themſelves,
More ready were our Counſels to diſcloſe,
Then to protect us from our Belgian foes.
The Fleet divided, ſhews ſuch treachery,
That Pagans, Turks and Infidels decry.
The States Purſe cannot but be indigent,
When ſo much money over-Sea is ſent.
No wonder Dutchmen cry, Thanks Clarendine,
We are ſo roundly paid with Engliſh Coin.
If Georges mouth be ſtopt, think they that we
Have all our eyes bor'd out, and cannot ſee.
Our foes of Engiiſh Coin have greater ſtore
Since Wars began, than ere they had before.
Quaint ſtratagem, for Rulers buſied be
To tye a raw Hide to an Orange Tree;
With reſolution, 'cauſe he's of that blood,
To lift his head above the Mogan hood.
Then both the Kiep-skins would be well beſtow'd,
One honour'd here, t'other as much abroad.
Theſe and ſuch Projects have procur'd a War,
Where mortals worry'd were like Dog and Bear.
Then Money works the wonder, that is ſure,
The price of Dunkirk here may much procure.
Dunkirk was ſold, but why, we do not know,
Unleſs t' erect a new Seraglio,
Or be a Receptacle unto thoſe,
Were once intended our invading foes.
Then let that treacherous Abject Lump of Pride,
With all his joynt-Confederates beſide,
Be brought to Juſtice, tryed by our Laws,
And ſo receive the merits of their Cauſe.
Who juſtly now are made the peoples hate.
That would not do them Juſtice in the Gate.
… We pray your Honours chooſe out a Committee
To find the Inſtruments that burnt our City;
Can one poor ſenſleſs Frenchmans life repair
The loſſe of Britains great Imperial Chair?
Many there were in that vile fact detected,
And thoſe that ſhould them puniſh, them protected.
When Nero did the like on famous Rome,
Were all her Senators and People dumb?
Muſt we be ſilent, when incompaſt round
With black-mouth'd Dogs, that would us all confound?
Moſt helliſh Plot! 'twas Guido Faux in grain,
Hatch'd by the Jeſuites in France and Spain.
For which your Honours wiſely did remember
To keep another fifth day of November.
When theſe Delinquents up and down the Nation
You ſifted for, then came your Prorogation.
Mean while, though London in her aſhes lies,
Yet out of her ſhall ſuch a Phaenix riſe,
Shall be a ſcourge and terrour unto thoſe,
Who for this hundred years have been her foes.
Perfideous Papiſts! ſhall your treachery,
Think ye, reduce US to Idolatry?
Blood-thirsty Monsters! we know better things;
Not all the pride of your dark-lanthorn Kings,
Nor all your Counſels of Achitophel,
Shall make us run your ready road to Hell;
Blind Blockheads, we abhor your rotten Whore;
None but the God of Jacob we adore.
We beg your Honours to redeem our Trade,
Which in your Intervals is much decay'd;
Regaining that, we hope ſuch fruit 'twill yeeld,
We on our Ruins chearfully may build.
We pray repeal that Law unnatural,
That men in queſtion for their Conſcience call:
'Tis cruelty, for you to force men to
The thing, that they had rather die than do,
This is mans All, 'tis Chriſt's Prerogative,
Therefore againſt it 'tis in vain to ſtrive.
Diſtribute Juſtice with an equal hand
Unto the Peer, as Peaſant of the Land;
Many true Commoners murder'd of late,
Yet Juſtice ſtrikes not the Aſſaſſinate.
Why ſhould the juſt Cauſe of the Clyent be
Utterly loſt, wanting a double Fee?
Why partial Judges on the Benches ſit,
And Juries overaw'd, which is not fit?
Why ſome corrupted, others wanting wit,
And why a Parliament ſhould ſuffer it?
Why great mens wills ſhould be their only Law;
And why they do not call to mind Jack Straw?
Why they do let their Reputation rot,
And why Carnarvan Edward is forgot?
Why Bloodworth would not let that dreadful Fire
Extinguiſht be, as good men did deſire?
And why Lifeguard-men at each Gate were ſet,
Hindring the people thence their goods to get?
Why were our Houſes levell'd with the ground,
That fairly ſtood about the Tower round?
When many thouſand Families were left
Without a houſe, then we muſt be bereſt
Of habitations too with all the reſt,
And ſhare with thoſe that greatly were diſtreſt.
Why ſhould our Mother-Queen exhauſt our ſtore,
Enriching France, and making England poor
Spending our Treaſure in a forreign Land,
Which doth not with our Nations Intreſt ſtand?
Therefore in time ſtay th' bleeding of this vein,
Leſt it our Nations vital ſpirits drain.
Why England now, as in the dayes of yore,
Muſt have an Interceſſor, Madam Shore?
Why upon her is ſpent more in a day,
Than would a deal of publick charge defray?
Why ſecond Roſamond is made away?
And that remains a Riddle to this day.
Why Papiſts put in places of great truſt,
And Proteſtants lay by their Arms to ruſt?
Why Courtiers rant with Goods of other mens,
And with Protections cheat the Citizens?
Why drunken Juſtices are tolerated,
And why the Goſpel's almoſt abrogated?
Why Clergy-men do domineer ſo high,
That ſhould be patterns of humility?
Why they do Steeple upon Steeple ſet,
As if they meant that way to Heav'n to get?
Who nothing have to prove themſelves devout,
Save only this, that Cromwel turn'd them out.
Why Tippits, Copes, Lawnſleeves & ſuch like geer
Conſume above three millions by the year?
Why Bell and Dragon Drones, like Boar in ſty,
Eat more than all the painful Miniſtry?
Which is one cauſe the Nation is ſo poor,
And when the King will find their Privy Door?
When Daniel ſhews th' impreſſion of their feet,
And gives direction, then hee'l come to ſee 't.
Why Englands grand Religion now ſhould be
A Stalking-Horſe to blind Idolatry?
Why many thouſauds now bow down before it,
That in their Conſciences do much abhor it?
Why Treachery is us'd by Comp…ication,
Fraud and Deceit the All-a-moad in faſhion?
Why ranting Cowards in Buſt-coats are put,
And why they Robbers turn, to fill their gut?
Why Fools in Corporations do command,
Who know nor Juſtice, nor the Law o'th Land?
Why he who brought our necks into this Yoke,
Dreads not the thoughts of Feltons fatal ſtroke?
Sure they'r bewitch'd who think us Engliſh men
Have no more courage left us than a Hen.
And why that intereſt is become the leaſt,
In the year Sixty greater than the reſt?
We know no reaſon, but do all conſent,
Theſe are the fruits of an Ill-Government.
Some think our Judgments do run parallel
With Davids in the dayes of Iſrael.
The difference is, he was a Man of God;
But ours have been his ſore afflicting Rod;
To which we turn our naked backs, and ſay,
Lord, during thy pleaſure, Vive le Roy.
We pray reſtore our faithful Miniſters,
Whom we do own as Chriſt's Ambaſſadors.
Why are our Pulpits peſtred with that Crew,
That took up Orders ſince black Bartholmew;
Who Myſteries of Goſpel know no more,
Than that dumb Calf that Iſrael did adore.
Too late for us to you to make our moan,
When they have led us to deſtruction.
Muſt all be enemies to King and State,
That from the Church of England ſeparate?
Muſt all the Meetings of the Innocent
Be judg'd unlawful and to Priſon ſent?
'Twere better all ſuch Edicts you made void,
And grant the Liberty they once enjoy'd;
Confirming that unto them by a Law,
Makes good the Royal Promiſe at Breda.
Tread all Monopolies into the Earth,
And make proviſion that no more get birth.
In this a Prince's danger chiefly lies,
That he is forc'd to ſee with others eyes:
From hence our Troubles roſe in Forty one,
When that Domeſtick War at firſt begun.
Relieve th' Oppreſſed, ſet all Priſoners free,
Who for their Conſciences in durance be.
Poor Debtors who have not wherewith to pay,
Break off their Shackles, let them go their way.
And let ſuborned Witneſſes appear
No more againſt the Innocent to ſwear.
Let no more Juries that are byaſſed,
Selected be to do what they are bid;
Who to fulfill mens Luſts and Cruelty,
Regard not though the Innocent do dye.
Why ſhould our juſt Laws as a Cobweb be,
To catch ſmall flies, and let the great go free?
This …urns true judgment into wormwood gall,
Doth for the Vengeance of th' Avenger call.
Then eaſe thoſe Burdens under which we groan,
Give Liberty its Reſurrection.
Let painful Husbandry, the Child of Peace,
Be now encouraged, ſince Warrs do ceaſe:
Let not the poor enſlaved Plow-man crave
Redreſs from you, and yet no ſuccour have.
'Tis too much like a baſe French ſtratagem,
To make the People poor to govern them.
More happy for a Prince, when Aid he craves,
To hav't from free-born men, than injur'd ſlaves.
We are free-born, we yet are Engliſh-men,
Let's not like old men boaſt what we have been;
But make us happy by your gentle Rayes,
And You ſhall be the tenour of our Praiſe;
And our poſterities with joynt conſent,
Shall call you Englands healing Parliament;
But if you ſtill will make our Bands the ſtronger,
If Priſoners muſt remain in durance longer;
If wandring Stars muſt ſtill by force detrude
(Under Eclipſe) thoſe of firſt Magnitude;
If Prelates ſtill muſt ov'r our Conſcience ride,
And Papiſts bonfires make on us beſide.
If he and they (whoſe Avarice and Pride
So long have rid our backs, and gall'd our ſide)
Have got ſo ſtrong an intreſt in the State,
That their Commitment coſts ſo long debate;
Until a way be made for his eſcape
To forreign parts, there to negotiate:
The edge of Juſtice ſurely's turn'd aſide,
To cut the poor ones fleſh, and ſave the Hide.
If you mens Luſts and Av'rice gratifie,
And yet our empty Purſe-ſtrings will unty;
You are too free of what nev'r was your own,
And know you only make us more to groan,
(Aſſe-like:) and ſurely any mortal man,
Will ſeek to eaſe his burden when he can.
There's not an Engliſh-man but well hath learn'd,
Your Priviledges are alike concern'd
With all our Liberties; That he that doth
Infringe the one, uſurps upon them both.
And ſhall it on your Door and Tombs be writ,
This was that Parliament ſo long did ſit,
While Conſcience, Liberty, our Purſe and Trade;,
The Country, City, Ships, and All's betray'd?
That made an Act for building on the Vrn,
But no Inqueſt who did the City burn;
To feed a Palmer-worm, who threw away
That publick ſtock that Seamen ſhould defray.
Since now you have an opportunity,
Redeem your ſelves and us from Slavery:
If not, (the Wheel goes round) there is no doubt,
You'l alſo ſhare with thoſe you have turn'd out.
Vivat Lex Rex.