Lambeth, Dr. Featly, sequestered, plundered, imprisoned, and dead a prisoner.

Newington, Mr. Heath, sequestered.
Hackney, Mr. Moore, sequestered.
Islington, divers ministers turned out.

Stepney, Dr. Stamp, sequestered, plundered, and forced to fly. N. B. In the adjacent towns, besides those of the Abby-Church and Islington, outed five, dead one.

The total of the ministers of London, within the bills of mortality (besides St. Paul's and Westminster) turned out of their liv ings by sequestration and otherwise, one-hundred and fifteen. Whereof were doctors in divinity, above forty.

And the most of them plundered of their goods, and their wives and children turned out of doors.

Imprisoned in London, and in the ships, and in the several jails and castles in the country, twenty.

Fled to prevent imprisonment, twenty-five.

Dead in remote parts and in prisons, with grief, twenty-two. About forty churches void, having no constant minister in them. Usquequo, domine*, Rev. vi. 10.

A SHORT HISTORY

OF THE

ENGLISH REBELLION.

Compiled in Verse, by MARCHAMONT NEDHAM,
Author of Mercurius Fragmaticus.

London: Printed in 1661. Quarto, containing thirty-feven pages.

WHEN as we liv'd in peace (God wot)

A king would not content us;

But we, forsooth, must hire the Scot,

To all-be-parliament us.

Then down went king and bishops too;
On goes the holy wirk,

Betwixt them and the brethren blue,

T' advance the crown and kirk.

But when that these had reigned a time,
Robb'd kirk, and sold the crown;

A more religious sort up climb,
And crush the jockies down.

* How long. O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood, &c. VOL. VII.

N

But now we must have peace again,
Let none with fear be vext;
For, if without the king these reign,
Then high down they go next.

A peace, a peace, the country cries,
Or else we shall be undone;
For this brave war we thank the wise
Confiding men of London.

Sure now they may, as well as we,
Know how to value quiet,

When th' army comes their guests to be,
For a twelvemonth's cash and diet.

Free quarter is a tedious thing,

And so is the excise..

None can deliver us but the king,
From this damn'd Dutch device.

The parliament hath serv'd seven years;
True vengeance then we see,
Upon feign'd jealousies and fears;
For yet they are not free.

Long peace a plenty did beget,

And plenty brought forth pride; Through pride to faction men were set In parties to divide.

The new-formed priests first led the way, And said it was no sin,

By force to drive the king away,

And draw the city in.

The lords and commons they consent
To what each Rabbi saith;

And so the catholick down went,
T' advance the publick faith.

This brought a war and taxes on,
T' inslave a free-born people:
And now the work is thus far gone,
Next have at Crown and Steeple.
Our wise reformers, brave and gay,
Have ta'en a goodly course,
To fight, to feast, to fast and pray,
And milk each honest purse.

The crown's revenue goes to wreck,
While they sing hymns and psalms;
And, rather than themselves will lack,
The king must live on alms.

We are, the learned Synod says,
The Church of England's nurse,
Who make them bless the Sabbath-days,
And all the week to curse.

The plough stands still, and trade is small;
For goods, lands, towns, and cities;
Nay, I dare say, the Devil and all,
Pays tribute to committees.

A Scot and Jesuit, join'd in hand,
First taught the world to say,
That Subjects ought to have command,
And Princes to obey.

These both agreed to have no King;
The Scotchman he cries further,

No Bishop; 'tis a godly thing
States to reform by murther.

Then th' Independent, meek and sly,
Most lowly lies at lurch,
And so, to put poor Jocky by,

Resolves to have no Church.

The King dethron'd, the Subjects bleed!
The Church hath no abode;
Let us conclude they 're all agreed,
That sure there is no God.

Our States-men (though no Lunaticks,
No Wizards, nor Buffoons)
Have shewn a hundred changeling tricks,
In less than three new-moons.

The devil's foot is cleft (men speak)
And so (God knows) are they:
The factions rule by fits, then take
Their turns, and run away.

They vote, unvote, and vote with noise

What they cry'd down before,

ing and bishops. *This refers to the petition of the tumultuous rabble of the London apprentices against the

O happy treason! see how wealth
Is made their heaven! they swell
With pride; and live by blood and stealth,
As if there were no hell!

No Sadducees but must confess,
Those monsters, which are told,
In story, are risen now no less
Prodigious, than of old.

Both Cain and Judas back are come,
In wizards most divine;
God bless us from a pulpit-drum,
And a preaching Catiline.

They feed upon a kingdom's curse,
And prey upon a king!

The dev'l provide a second course,
And then a voider bring.

Now, Charles, thy conquest is compleat,
And all the world shall see,

That God, which guides the royal Scot,
Will thy avenger be.

O House of Commons, House of Lords,
Amend before September:

For 'tis decreed, your soldiers swords
Shall then you all dismember.

But like fair chapmen 'twas well done,
To give you time and day

To cast accompts; for, one by one,
They will you soundly pay.

The kingdom all in pieces torn!
Your time is fairly spent ;
To make yourselves a very scorn,
Your king but Jack-a-Lent.

Now, now, we see 'twas for the crown

The houses both did fight:

For, since the cavaliers are down,
They put the king to flight.

The adjutators, stern and proud,
Said, he should have no quarter,
Because he is a king; and vow'd
To make the saint a martyr.*

* See the Dissenting Ministers vindication of themselves from the horrid and detestable mu der of king Charles the First, in Vol. VI. p. 129.

Their officers cry'd, Hail, O king;
The rest made mocks and scorns;
The houses vinegar did bring,

And all did plat the thorns.

Thus crucify'd, great Charles did live
As dead, is gone away:

For resurrection, God will give

A new cor'nation-day.

Rouse up! king Charles hath miss'd the snare
Laid on his royal feet;
Let th' adjutators now take care

Each for his winding-sheet.

The army rendezvoused are,

And do they know not what;
The Scots and they are like to jar,
Let us thank God for that.

The houses know not what to think;
The cits horn-madded be:

They must be whipt, until they stink,
A joyful sight to see!

Thus, Cavaliers, cast up your caps,
And tell the rebels plain,

That Charles, in spight of all their traps,

Shall shortly rule again.

For liberty, and privilege,
Religion, and the king,

We fought; but O! the golden wedge!

That is the only thing.

There lies the cream of all the cause;

Religion is but whig;

Pure privilege eats up the laws,

And cries, For kings a fig.

The houses may a Christmas keep,
The countrymen a Lent;
The citizens (like silly sheep)
Must fast, and be content.

Then where is Liberty (I pray)
With Justice, Truth, and Right?
Sure they and Conscience fled away
With Charles, to th' Isle of Wight.

Gape, gape for peace, poor countrymen;

The members mean to treat:

And we shall see fair play agen,

When they no more can cheat.