The Journal of Joachim Hane: containing his escapes and sufferings during his employment by Oliver Cromwell in France from November 1653 to February 1654Hane, Joachim
History
The Journal of Joachim Hane: containing his escapes and sufferings during his employment by Oliver Cromwell in France from November 1653 to February 1654
Hane, Joachim
France -- Foreign relations -- Great Britain; Great Britain -- Foreign relations -- France
I went now to consider of a place where I might spend this prey in rest
and safty, and knowing that all the sittuation theirabouts would not
aford me a better accomodation then the presse house joyned to the same
dwelling house where I borrowed the loafe, both being under one roofe
only distinguished by a partition wall in the midle, I went into the
same, in hopes that the people of the house when they came home would
not once suppose me to have tarried so neare the place wher I had
comitted such a fact, but that they would rather perswade themselves
that I was gon further to conceale my actions. This presse house was
very full of lumber, and their was amongst the rest a great coupe or fat
about nyne foot high and seaven foot wide. I liked this coupe so well
that I made use of it for my lodging as long as I should stay on this
side of the water, supposeing that their I should lye in no bodys way to
be discovered, because no body could get neither in nor out of the same
without a ladder. But having first made provision how to get in and out
by meanes of a long rope and longe notched peece of wood reared up
within the tubb, went into the same and fell to feed upon such cheare as
God had sent me, giving God praise both for this seasonable releife and
for so necessary and convenient lodging prepared for me, for I estemed
myselfe now to want nothing having meate within the fatt with me, and
their lay four hogsheads of small wine or burick (made with water
wherwith the grapes are washed after they are pressed over againe) in a
room which was instead of a seller under the dwelling house, but the
dore of it came into the press house. Their as often as I was dry and
nobody in the way I went to drinke my fill with a reed out of the
bung-hole opened with an iron naile which I continually carryed about
me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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