Chapter I: A - P || D - R - E (4)

We passed down Stock Marshes, being directed to keep the road-way, which being heavy walking (much rain having fallen the preceding night) I prevailed on the company to follow me over a style, which led along the beach by a creek side, imagining it as near and a better way; but was deceived, and led the company about two miles astray; but getting into the right road, we soon entered the Isle of Grain, (so called from its fruitfulness, as I conjecture,) and near the church there, we stopped at the Chequer ale-house, kept by Goody Hubbard, who entertained us with salt pork, bread, butter, and buns, and good malt liquor. Here Scott left and lost his penknife, value five shillings. We expected to have got a boat here to carry us over to Sheerness; but the ferry-man did not care to go, and another person we would have employed for that purpose sent us word, that the wind blew too hard. But our landlady put us into a method by which we might possibly get a passage; and that was, to go down the marshes towards the salt-houses, and endeavour to hail the ships in ordinary, and by that means get one of their boats. We accordingly went down to the shore, which was covered with variety of shells, and accidentally espied a little boat coming on our side the water below us, which Thornhill and Tothall went down to meet, and brought up to us, and with some difficulty took us in (the manner of our embarking is delineated in the 5th drawing); and we set sail for Sheerness. The sea ran high the wind blowing hard at S.W. and by S. In our passage we had the pleasure of seeing and hearing the guns fired from the fort and the men of war, and about twelve we landed. We traversed the fort, went round the lines, saw all the fortifications and batteries, and had a delightful prospect of the sea and the island of Sheppy. Scott was laughed at for smelling to the touch-holes of some of the guns lately discharged; and so was Hogarth, for sitting down to cut his toe-nails in the garrison. At one we set out for Queenborough, to which place we walked along the beach, which the spray flew over in many places. Thornhill fell down, and slightly hurt his leg; yet we all perambulated merrily, and arrived at Queenborough about two.

The town is but one street, situate on the east side of a creek, called after the town’s name, and branching out of the Medway near the town. The street is clean and well paved (for a more exact description see the 6th drawing), and answers the description I have had of a Spanish town, viz. there is no sign of any trade, nor were many human creatures to be seen at our first arrival. The church is low and ill built: among many tomb-stones there are but few epitaphs worth noting, and the most material I take to be the following one, viz.

Henry Knight Master of a Shipp to Greenland and
Herpooner 24 Voyages

In Greenland I whales Sea horses Bears did Slay
Though Now my Body is Intombe in Clay

The town-house or clock-house (as it is called) stands in the middle of the street, supported by four piers, which form four arches, and (it being holiday) was decorated with a flag, in which is delineated the arms of the corporation. We took up our quarters at the Red Lion (which the people call the Swans) fronting the river, and met with a civil, prating landlady; but she being unprovided with beds, we applied to a merry woman at a private house, who furnished us with what we wanted. We then took another walk up the town, had a view of the inside of the church, and a conference with the grave-digger, who informed us of the state of the corporation. Among other things we were told, that the mayor is a custom-house officer, and the parson a sad dog. We found, to our sorrow, that although the town has two market-days, yet there was not one piece of fresh meat of any sort, nor any poultry or fish, except lobsters, to be got; with which, and some eggs and bacon, we made our supper.

We walked up the hill behind the town, to a well of very good water; over which (we were informed) a palace formerly stood, built by King Edward the Third for his Queen Philippa. Whilst we were at the well, two sailors came and drew a bucket of water to drink, and told us, that they and four more, belonging to the Rose man of war, were obliged the day before to attend one of their midshipmen, a son of General S----, in a yawl up the creek, and run the vessel ashore, where the midshipman left them, (without any sustenance, but a few cockles, or one penny of money to buy any,) and went to Sheerness, and was not yet returned, and they half-starved. We gave the fellows six-pence, who were very thankful, and ran towards the town to buy victuals for themselves and their companions, who lay asleep at some distance. We going to view their boat that stuck fast in the mud, one of the sailors returned hastily, and kindly offered us some cockles; this seemed an act of so much gratitude that we followed the fellows into the town, and gave them another sixpence; and they fetched their companions, and all refreshed themselves, and were very thankful and merry.

About seven we passed through the town, and saw and conversed with several pretty women, which we did not expect, not having seen any at our arrival, and returned to our quarters. We got a wooden chair, and placed Hogarth in it in the street, where he made the Drawing No. 6, and gathered a great many men, women, and children, about him, to see his performance. Having finished his drawing, we again walked up town, and at the mayor’s door saw all the sailors before mentioned, who informed me, (with “your worship” at every word) that the midshipman was lately returned from Sheerness, and had been up the creek to see how the boat lay; and coming back, had met a sailor in company with a woman whom the midshipman wanted to be free with, and the sailor opposed, insisting she was his wife, and hindered him from being rude; which the midshipman resenting, was gone to the mayor to redress his grievance. We thought this a very odd affair, but did not stay to see the result of it.

About nine we returned to our quarters, drank to our friends as usual, and emptied several cans of good flip, and all sung merrily; but were quite put out of countenance by some Harwich men, who came with lobsters, and were drinking in the next room. They sung several sea-songs so agreeably, that our St. John could not come in competition, nor could Pishoken save us from disgrace; so that after finishing the evening as pleasantly as possible, we went out of the house the back-way to our lodgings, at near eleven.

When we came there, our landlady had provided a bed for Scott in the garret, which made him grumble, and us laugh: this provoked him so far, that he absolutely refused to lie there; and Tothall, out of pure good-nature, offered him his bed at the house we came from, and that he would lie in the garret. This Scott accepted, and went away; and Tothall going up stairs, found he was to lie on a flock bed, without curtains; so came down again immediately, and went after Scott, at which we were very merry, and slept upon it till six in the morning.

Tuesday morning, at six, Hogarth called me up, and told me, the good woman insisted on being paid for her bed, or having Scott before the mayor; which last we did all in our power to promote, but to no effect; so coming to the public-house where Scott and Tothall lay, we found the doors open (a thing common in this town,) and nobody up. However, Hogarth soon roused them; and then Scott related another distress he had the last night, viz. when he left us, and was going to bed, he perceived something stir under the bed-cloaths, which he (collecting all his courage) was resolved to feel; at which something cried out, (seemingly affrighted,) and scared him out of his wits; but, resuming courage enough to inquire into the nature of affairs, he found it to be a little boy of the house, who had mistook the bed. This relation, according to custom, made us very merry, and Tothall provided some breakfast; after which we left the Swans, and went up town, where our shirts were sent to be washed; but not having time to dry, we took them wet, and had them dried and ironed at the next town.

About ten we quitted Queenborough: the morning was delightful, the country very pleasant, through which we passed very agreeably up to Minster, a little village on the highest part of the island. We laboured hard to climb the hill to the church-yard, it being very steep. We saw there, on a wooden rail over the grave, the following epitaph in verse:

Here Interr’d George Anderson Doth Lye
By fallen on an Anchor he did Dye
In Sheerness Yard on Good Friday
ye 6th of April, I do say
All you that Read my Allegy: Be alwaies
Ready for to Dye--Aged 42 Years

Our landlord at the George procured us a key of the church, which we entered, and saw there the monuments of Lord Cheyne, of a Spanish Ambassador, and of the Lord Shorland. Scott made a drawing of the Ambassador, (vide Drawing the 7th,) and Hogarth of Lord Shorland (see Drawing the 8th). The legend of the last being remarkable, I shall relate it with all its circumstances. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth, this lord having been to visit a friend on this island, and passing by this church in his way home to Shorland, about two miles off, he saw a concourse of people gathered together in the church-yard; and inquiring the reason, was informed, that the parson who stood by there, refused to bury the corpse brought for that purpose, because there was no money to pay the burial fees. His lordship, being extremely moved at the parson, ordered the people to throw him into the grave, and bury him quick; which they accordingly did, and he died. My lord went home; and there reflecting on what he had done, and fearing to forfeit his life for the offence, he wrote a petition, setting forth the nature of his offence; and hearing the queen was on board one of the ships at the Nore, (to which place she came to take a view of her fleet designed to oppose the Spanish armada,) he took a horse, and rode directly into the sea, and swam to the Nore, above three miles off, and coming to the ship’s side, begged to see her majesty; who came immediately, and he presented his petition. The queen received, read, and granted it; and he, without quitting his horse, swam back again to the island; and coming on the shore met an old woman, who told him, that though the horse had then saved his life, he would be the cause of his death. His lordship fearing (and in order to prevent) the accomplishment of the old woman’s prophecy, alighted from his horse, drew his sword and killed him, and left him there; and his carcass was, by the force of the sea, thrown some little way on the land.

Some years after this, my lord, walking with some of his friends near the sea-side, espied the skull and some other bones of the horse lying there, and relating the foregoing account, happened to kick the skull and hurt one of his toes, which mortified and killed him; and he lies in Minster Church, and a monument is erected over his grave, on which he is figured with a horse’s head (supposed to be in the waves) placed by him. (Vide Drawing the 8th.) This story is so firmly believed in that parish, that a horse’s head, finely gilt, is placed as a weather-cock on the church steeple, and the figure of a horse is struck upon the spindle above that weather-cock, and the church is commonly called the Horse Church. We were so well satisfied of the people’s belief that all they told us was true, that we did not dare to declare our disbelief of one tittle of the story.

We dined at the George, staid till four, then left Minster, and walked to Sheerness; hired a small vessel, (vulgarly called a bomb-boat,) and about five set sail for Gravesend.

The wind blew a fresh gale at E. and by S. Scott grew very sea-sick, and did what was natural in such cases. Soon after, Hogarth grew sick, and was consequently uneasy, which was augmented by our stopping; and Tothall going on board Captain Robinson, in one of the custom-house sloops, riding in Holy Haven, who furnished him with some milk punch, and us with some fire to light our pipes, which was greatly wanted.

It rained hard all the voyage. We saw several porpoises rolling in pursuit of their prey; and one in particular was got so near shore, that we thought he must remain there; but he deceived our expectation, and got off again.

About seven, our sick passengers being recovered, we sailed merrily, and sung St. John, Pishoken, and several other songs and tunes ourselves, and our cockswain entertained us with several sailors’ songs; but our notes were soon changed by our vessel running on, and sticking fast in, the Blye sand, though we were almost in the middle of the channel. It was the tide of ebb, and within about an hour of flood, which gave us some concern, believing we should be forced to continue there some time, and bear the beating of the wind and waves; yet, by the industry of our mariners, and the skilful assistance of Tothall, we got off again in a little time (though with some difficulty); and the wind proving favourable, we arrived safe at Gravesend about ten.

We supped, and drank good wine, and thought our adventures and extraordinary mirth ended, but found otherwise: for a great coat Scott had borrowed for this journey, and left at Gravesend, and travelled without it, we found, on our arrival here, could not be found. This, though grief to him, was sport to us; and he soon got the better of his uneasiness, and grew as merry as we. Thus we continued till pretty late, and then went to bed.

Wednesday, at eight, we arose, breakfasted, and walked about the town. At ten went into a boat we had hired, with a truss of clean straw, a bottle of good wine, pipes, tobacco, and a match. The wind was favourable at S.E. and a mackerel gale. Our passage was very pleasant to all till we came into Eriff Reach, when Scott, being without his great coat, (for the reason above-mentioned,) taking a drawing of some shipping, a flurry of wind caused our vessel to ship a sea, which washed him from head to foot, and nobody else. He, greatly surprised, got up, and drawing the fore-tail of his shirt from out of his breeches, (which were also well soused with salt water,) he held it in both hands opposed to the windward; and the sun shining warm, he was soon dry; and, recovering his surprise, joined with us in laughing at the accident.

We came merrily up the river; and quitting our boat at Billingsgate, got into a wherry that carried us through bridge, and landed at Somerset Water-gate; from whence we walked all together, and arrived at about two at the Bedford Arms, Covent Garden, in the same good-humour we left it to set out on this very pleasant expedition.

I think I cannot better conclude than with taking notice, that not one of the company was unemployed; for Mr. Thornhill made the map, Mr. Hogarth and Mr. Scott the drawings, Mr. Tothall was our treasurer, which (though a place of the greatest trust) he faithfully discharged; and the foregoing Memoir was the work of

E. FORREST.

_The veracity of this manuscript is attested by us_,

WM. HOGARTH.
SAML. SCOTT.
WM. TOTHALL.
JNO. THORNHILL.

_London, May 27, 1732. Accompt of Disbursements for Messieurs Hogarth
and Co. viz._

£. _s._ _d._
To paid at the Dark-house, Billingsgate 0 0 8½
To paid for a pint of Geneva Hollands 0 1 0
To paid waterman to Gravesend 0 5 0
To paid barber ditto 0 0 10
To paid for breakfast at ditto 0 2 2
To paid for beer on the road to Rochester 0 0 9
To paid for shrimps at Chatham 0 0 9
To paid at the gunnery and dock 0 1 6
To paid bill at Rochester 1 7 3
28. To gave at Upnor for information 0 0 3
To paid at the Smack at ditto 0 4 3
To paid at Hoo 0 1 8
To paid at Stoke 0 11 6
29. To paid at Mother Hubbard’s at Grain 0 3 0
To paid for passage over to Sheerness 0 2 10
To paid for lobsters at Queenborough 0 1 6
To paid for two pots of beer to treat the
sexton 0 0 6
To paid for dinner, &c. 0 6 6
To charity gave the sailors 0 1 0
30. To paid for lodgings and maid 0 4 6
To paid for breakfast 0 2 6
To paid for washing shirts 0 1 8
To paid at Minster 0 9 2
To paid at Sheerness 0 1 3
To paid for a boat to Gravesend 0 7 0
31. To paid barber at ditto 0 1 2
To paid for sundry at ditto 1 0 3½
To paid for passage to Somerset House 0 5 6
----------------
£ 6 6 0
----------------

_Vouchers produced, examined, and allowed,
Per_ E. FORREST.
WM. HOGARTH.
SAML. SCOTT.
JNO. THORNHILL.

* * * * *

The Rev. Mr. Gostling’s version bore the same title and motto as the prose Tour, with this addition,--“Imitated in _Hudibrasticks_, by one well acquainted with some of the Travellers, and of the places here celebrated, with liberty of some additions.” It is subjoined; viz.

MR. GOSTLING’S ACCOUNT OF HOGARTH’S TOUR.

’Twas first of morn on _Saturday_,
The seven-and-twentieth day of _May_,
When _Hogarth_, _Thornhill_, _Tothall_, _Scott_,
And _Forrest_, who this journal wrote,
From _Covent-Garden_ took departure,
To see the world by land and water.
Our march we with a song begin;
Our hearts were light, our breeches thin.
We meet with nothing of adventure
Till _Billingsgate’s Dark-house_ we enter.
Where we diverted were, while baiting,
With ribaldry, not worth relating
(Quite suited to the dirty place)
But what most pleas’d us was his Grace
Of _Puddle Dock_, a porter grim,
Whose portrait _Hogarth_, in a whim,
Presented him in caricature,
He pasted on the cellar door.[347]
But hark! the Watchman cries “Past one!”
’Tis time that we on board were gone.
Clean straw we find laid for our bed,
A tilt for shelter over head.
The boat is soon got under sail,
Wind near S. E. a mack’rel gale,
Attended by a heavy rain;
We try to sleep, but try in vain,
So sing a song, and then begin
To feast on biscuit, beef, and gin.
At _Purfleet_ find three men of war,
The _Dursley_ galley, _Gibraltar_,
And _Tartar_ pink, and of this last
The pilot begg’d of us a cast
To _Gravesend_, which he greatly wanted,
And readily by us was granted.
The grateful man, to make amends,
Told how the officers and friends
Of _England_ were by _Spaniards_ treated,
And shameful instances repeated.
While he these insults was deploring,
_Hogarth_, like Premier, fell to snoring,
But waking cry’d, “I dream’d”--and then
Fell fast asleep, and snor’d again.
The morn clear’d up, and after five
At port of _Gravesend_ we arrive,
But found it hard to get on shore,
His boat a young son of a whore
Had fix’d just at our landing-place,
And swore we should not o’er it pass;
But, spite of all the rascal’s tricks,
We made a shift to land by six,
And up to Mrs. _Bramble’s_ go
[A house that we shall better know],
There get a barber for our wigs,
Wash hands and faces, stretch our legs,
Had toast and butter, and a pot
Of coffee (our third breakfast) got:
Then, paying what we had to pay,
For _Rochester_ we took our way,
Viewing the new church as we went,
And th’ unknown person’s monument.
The beauteous prospects found us talk,
And shorten’d much our two hours walk,
Though by the way we did not fail
To stop and take three pots of ale,
And this enabled us by ten
At _Rochester_ to drink again.
Now, Muse, assist, while I declare
(Like a true _English_ traveller)
What vast variety we survey
In the short compass of one day.
We scarce had lost the sight of _Thames_,
When the fair _Medway’s_ winding streams,
And far-extending _Rochester_,
Before our longing eyes appear:
The Castle and Cathedral grace
One prospect, so we mend our pace;
Impatient for a nearer view,
But first must _Strood’s_ rough street trudge through,
And this our feet no short one find;
However, with a cheerful mind,
All difficulties we get o’er,
And soon are on the _Medway’s_ shore.
New objects here before us rise,
And more than satisfy our eyes.
The stately Bridge from side to side,
The roaring cataracts of the tide,
Deafen our ears, and charm our sight,
And terrify while they delight.
These we pass over to the Town,
And take our Quarters at _The Crown_,
To which the Castle is so near,
That we all in a hurry were
The grand remains on’t to be viewing;
It is indeed a noble ruin,
Must have been very strong, but length
Of time has much impair’d its strength:
The lofty Tower as high or higher
Seems than the old Cathedral’s spire;
Yet we determin’d were to gain
Its top, which cost some care and pain;
When there arriv’d, we found a well,
The depth of which I cannot tell;
Small holes cut in on every side
Some hold for hands and feet provide,
By which a little boy we saw
Go down, and bring up a jack-daw.
All round about us then we gaze,
Observing, not without amaze,
How towns here undistinguish’d join,
And one vast One to form combine.
_Chatham_ with _Rochester_ seems but one,
Unless we’re shewn the boundary stone,
That and its yards contiguous lie
To pleasant _Brompton_ standing high;
The Bridge across the raging flood
Which _Rochester_ divides from _Strood_,
Extensive _Strood_, on t’other side,
To _Frindsbury_ quite close ally’d,
The country round, and river fair,
Our prospects made beyond compare,
Which quite in raptures we admire;
Then down to face of earth retire.
Up the Street walking, first of all
We take a view of the Town-Hall.
Proceeding farther on, we spy
A house, design’d to catch the eye,
With front so rich, by plastick skill,
As made us for a while stand still:
Four huge Hobgoblins grace the wall,
Which we four Bas Relievo’s call;
They the four Seasons represent,
At least were form’d for that intent.
Then _Watts’s Hospital_ we see
(No common curiosity);
Endow’d (as on the front appears)
In favour of poor travellers;
Six such it every night receives,
Supper and lodging _gratis_ gives,
And to each man next morn does pay
A groat, to keep him on his way:
But the contagiously infected,
And rogues and proctors, are rejected.
It gave us too some entertainment
To find out what this bounteous man meant,
Yet were we not so highly feasted.
But that we back to dinner hasted.
By twelve again we reach _The Crown_,
But find our meat not yet laid down,
So (spite of “Gentlemen, d’ye call?”)
On chairs quite fast asleep we fall,
And with clos’d eyes again survey
In dreams what we have seen to-day;
Till dinner’s coming up, when we
As ready are as that can be.
If we describe it not, we’re undone,
You’ll scarce believe we came from _London_,
With due attention then prepare
Yourself to hear our bill of fare
For our first course a dish there was
Of soles and flounders with crab-sauce,
A stuff’d and roast calf’s-heart beside,
With ’purt’nance minc’d, and liver fry’d;
And for a second course, they put on
Green pease and roasted leg of mutton.
The cook was much commended for’t;
Fresh was the beer, and sound the port;
So that _nem. con._ we all agree
(Whatever more we have to see)
From table we’ll not rise till three.
Our shoes are clean’d, ’tis three o’clock,
Come let’s away to _Chatham-Dock_;
We shan’t get there till almost four,
To see’t will take at least an hour;
Yet _Scott_ and _Hogarth_ needs must stop
At the Court-Hall to play _Scotch_ hop.
To _Chatham_ got, ourselves we treat
With Shrimps, which as we walk we eat,
For speed we take a round-about-
way, as we afterwards found out:
At length reach the King’s yards and docks
Admire the ships there on the stocks,
The men of war afloat we view,
Find means to get aboard of two;[348]
But here I must not be prolix,
For we went home again at six,
There smoak’d our pipes, and drank our wine,
And comfortably sat till nine,
Then, with our travels much improv’d,
To our respective beds we mov’d.
_Sunday_ at seven we rub our eyes,
But are too lazy yet to rise,
_Hogarth_ and _Thornhill_ tell their dreams,
And, reasoning deeply on those themes,
After much learned speculation,
Quite suitable to the occasion,
Left off as wise as they begun,
Which made for us in bed good fun.
But by and by, when up we got,
_Sam Scott_ was missing, “Where’s _Sam Scott?_”
“Oh! here he comes. Well! whence come you?”
“Why from the bridge, taking a view
Of something that did highly please me,
But people passing by would teaze me
With ‘Do you work on _Sundays_, friend?’
So that I could not make an end.”
At this we laugh’d, for ’twas our will
Like men of taste that day to kill.
So after breakfast we thought good
To cross the bridge again to _Strood_:
Thence eastward we resolve to go,
And through the Hundred march of _Hoo_,
Wash’d on the north side by the _Thames_,
And on the south by _Medway’s_ streams,
Which to each other here incline,
Till at the _Nore_ in one they join.
Before we _Frindsbury_ could gain,
There fell a heavy shower of rain,
When crafty _Scott_ a shelter found
Under a hedge upon the ground,
There of his friends a joke he made,
But rose most woefully bewray’d;
How against him the laugh was turn’d,
And he the vile disaster mourn’d!
We work, all hands, to make him clean,
And fitter to be _fitly_ seen.
But, while we scrap’d his back and side,
All on a sudden, out he cried,
“I’ve lost my cambrick handkercher,
’Twas lent me by my wife so dear:
What I shall do I can’t devise,
I’ve nothing left to wipe my eyes.”
At last the handkerchief was found,
To his great comfort, safe and sound,
He’s now recover’d and alive;
So in high spirits all arrive
At _Frindsbury_, fatn’d for prospects fair,
But we much more diverted were
With what the parish church did grace,
“A list of some who lov’d the place,
In memory of their good actions,
And gratitude for their benefactions.
Witnes our hands--_Will. Gibbons_, Vicar--”
And no one else.--This made us snicker:
At length, with countenances serious,
We all agreed it was mysterious,
Not guessing that the reason might
Be, the Churchwardens could not write.
At ten, in council it was mov’d.
Whoe’er was tir’d, or disapprov’d
Of our proceedings, might go back,
And cash to bear his charges take.
With indignation this was heard.
Each was for all events prepar’d.
So all with one consent agreed
To _Upnor-Castle_ to proceed,
And at the sutler’s there we din’d
On such coarse fare as we could find.
The Castle was not large, but strong,
And seems to be of standing long.
Twenty-four men its garrison,
And just for every man a gun;
Eight guns were mounted, eight men active,
The rest were rated non-effective.
Here an old couple, who had brought
Some cockles in their boat, besought
That one of us would buy a few,
For they were very fresh and new.
I did so, and ’twas charity;
He was quite blind, and half blind she.
Now growing frolicksome and gay,
Like boys, we after dinner play,
But, as the scene lay in a fort,
Something like war must be our sport:
Sticks, stones, and hogs-dung were our weapons,
And, as in such frays oft it happens,
Poor _Tothall’s_ cloaths here went to pot,
So that he could not laugh at _Scott_.
From hence all conquerors we go
To visit the church-yard at _Hoo_.
At _Hoo_ we found an Epitaph,
Which made us (as ’twill make you) laugh:
A servant maid, turn’d poetaster,
Wrote it in honour of her master;
I therefore give you (and I hope you
Will like it well) a _Vera Copia_:
“And . wHen . he . Died . You plainly . see
Hee . freely . gave . al . to . Sara . passaWee.
And . in . Doing . so . it DoTh . prevail .
that . Ion . him . can . well . bes . Tow . this Rayel .
On . Year . I sarved . him . it is well . none .
BuT Thanks . beto . God . it . is . all my . One.”

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