London (England) -- History -- 17th century; London (England) -- Social life and customs -- 17th century
“The miseries and calamities which of late have happened in this
confused place of England are so many that they furnish the discourse
both of this and of other nations, who, notwithstanding, are not able
to express them all. I shall now relate you only two, befalling within
these few days, and to this end, that, by the true report of these
(which, by men of sundry passions, may be prevented), others of the
like nature, if it please God, may be prevented. Of the one, I have
certaine information; of the other, I myselfe was an eye-witness.
The first happened, at Acton, some six miles distant from London,
where lived a gentleman, reported and believed to be different in
religion (as too many nowadays are, which we know to be the cause of
all our evils) from the Church of England; but in the voice of most
of his neighbours, a sober, moderate, and charitable-minded man. This
gentleman, having in his house no more but one ancient gentlewoman, his
kinswoman, whom he intrusted as his housekeeper, with one serving man
and maide, had his house besett with divers companies of soldiers, who
had listed themselves for the service of the King and Parliament, and
were in pay and command under officers; where, after they had forced
him to open the gates by threatning words, they entered the house,
and so strangely despoiled him that they left him not a bed, bedstead,
table, doore, or glasse window, chest, trunk, or the smallest utensil,
but sold all for very small prices before his servants’ faces, some of
them having forced him before on foote to London; and for his bills,
bonds, letters, and other writings the most part they tore in pieces,
and strewed them about the house; others some they sent up to London.
He hath, with much industry and long time, rarely furnished a plot of
ground with the choicest flowers and outlandish trees which he could
procure, which they plucked up by the roots, as many as they could, and
the rest left so desolate that, whereas it was thought the finest and
most curious garden in all those parts, there is now left nothing but
the ruines of Art and Nature.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account