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| Windermere from Sour Howes |
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| Windermere from the western side. |
I have conducted a lot of research on subjects that have been forgotten with reference to Lake District history, most of these have been tragedies on the fells and lakes. It really commenced through my interest of a drowning that occurred in Derwentwater, where 5 young ladies of Nelson, East Lancashire (all aged 20 and 21), were drowned on 12th August 1898, and at the time of the burgeoning group holiday experience of the Co-Operative Holiday Association (CHA), commenced by the man regarded as the father of the Outdoor Holiday Movement, Thomas Arthur Leonard. I then began researching other drownings, and was able to do a full account on the origins of White Cross Bay, where a cross was placed to mark the place where two young Wigan men drowned on 13th September 1853. I also was able to compile a fuller account on a tragedy of a training exercise just after WWII, where trainees from Warcop drowned while practicing landings on the islands.
I don't recall at what point in all my research it was, but imagine my surprise when I discovered sparse references to an even larger drowning tragedy than the Derwentwater incident, and my shock to discover that the number of victims was forty-seven! The incident has become known as The Great Boat Tragedy of Windermere or Winandermere of 19th October 1635, hence the matter appearing closer to legend, than fact; but fact it is.
Who were they, and how did such a tragedy come to be? One can understand that after 1635, with a lack of print or people of the mass population's ability to read and write, that it came to slip from the consciousness, but not entirely, though different references came to quote date variations and how people came to be on the boat, or ferry. There was a 'great boat' ferry that plied between the western and eastern shores of the lake, connecting the Bowness and Ambleside communities with Hawkshead, and that was the vessel that the sad occurrence happened upon. Variations of the tragedy say that it was a wedding party, another that it was people returning from a Market Day at Hawkshead; perhaps the truth was a combination of these two groups of travellers. Later accounts stated that the married couple themselves were drowned, but evidence later uncovered showed this not to be the case, though family members did drown. Folklore has it that the tragic victims were buried at the back of the church at Bowness, yet they are recorded in the Grasmere register, which I cannot explain, nor it seems could anyone else; the Bowness church has since been extended at the back, so perhaps all evidence is lost.
There is one other source of information that is crucial to the story, and it is a poem, albeit an abstract account, but the preamble contains significant detail. The poem was all but lost to the knowledge of historians, but there was discovered to be one original printed version which is now stored in The Bodleian Library, at Oxford University. The poem is 'The Fatall Nuptiall, or Mournefull Marriage. The heavy and lamentable Accident lately occurring, by the drowning of 47 persons, and some of those of especiall quality, in the water of Windermere, in the NORTH. October 19, 1635.
Contained within the Preamble, or Introduction, are references to those that drowned, and the association of some as family members, namely the mother and brother of the bride. When the list of the dead is inspected it is clear that the only persons these could be were, 'Geruies Strickland's wife of Stavelay' and 'Rolland Strickland'. The married couple were the groom, William Sawrey and the bride, Thomasin Strickland. Sadly the couple were to have a child through the marriage but it was stillborn and buried at Hawkshead on 12th July 1636; Thomasin was to follow the child to the grave, most likely dying through a complication connected to the birth, and buried on 25th July. Had it been immediately after the birth then death could have been through haemorrhage, or some other quick and merciful end, but to have been approaching 13 days later suggests she died a lingering and pain racked death with mercy paying little part. William went on to re-marry a Hester Sands on 10th June 1638.
Saint Martin's church at Bowness-on-Windermere was extended in 1870 and in the 'Bowness Long Ago' article in the Lakes Chronicle, 12th August 1908 edition, it quoted another local paper from 1888, which spoke of the extension, stating, '..... There were also the graves of, "Long Will Robinson," whom I saw drowned, of, "poor Tom." and the, "eight and forty row" of the ferry boat wedding party when forty-eight persons were laid in one trench, now cut in two by the new chancel. ....." What happened to the removed bones is not stated, but that they were so buried at St. Martin's there now seems no doubt. The church records I believe no longer exist, but, for some reason yet unexplained (perhaps a clerical archivist may have some explanation), but they are listed in the Grasmere Parish Records. These were quoted in the, 'Lakes Chronicle' of 26th August 1908. The article was a response to clarify the position of the earlier stated. 'Bowness Long Ago' article of 12th August; it stated:
“BOWNESS LONG AGO."
An article, with the above heading. which appeared in our columns of August 12th, has aroused no small amount of interest among readers of the Chronicle: and, in connection with the same topic. we are now favoured with the following supplementary remarks by Mr Bailey- Kempling.
The article in question makes reference to the Ferry-boat disaster on Windermere, when, through the carelessness or want of judgment of those on board - a sudden flocking to one side - the boat heeled over and some 47 [or 48?] lives were lost. There are four sources of contemporaneous evidence of this catastrophe. The first is the Grasmere Parish Register, and the entry, in its rugged quaintness, is as follows :_
“The XXth of Octob: 1635, theis were all drowned in Windermer water in one boate comeigne over from Hawkshead:-
Mr. George Wilson, of Kendall.
John Beck, his wife, his son, and a servant maide, of Kendall
Thomas Powe, of Kendall.
Randall Noble, of Kendall.
John Kitchin's son of Strickland field.
John Pearson and his wife, of Skelsmere.
Christopher Phillipson, of Ashes.
Geruies Strickland's wife of Stavelay.
Mary, daughter of John Phillipson.
Thomas Milner, boateman and his 2 daughters.
Henry Pearson and Dorothie, his sister.
Tho: Bateman, of Crooke.
James Warriner, of the same.
John Satterthwayte, of the same.
Christopher Willan's wife.
Rolland Strickland.
Myles Powe.
Anthony Sewart.
Anthony Elleray.
Richard Robinson.
Thomas Parke, son of Rolland.
Willm : Park, of Colgarth.
James Sewart.
Myles Byrkehead, son of Myles.
Willm : Roberts, son of Thomas.
Christoph : Parke, of Colgarth, Willm's brother.
Willm : Rowes.
Thomas Wood's wife.
Nicholas Bell wife.
George Baxter and his wife.
John Rowanson.
Willm: Holme.
Richard Robinson.
Willm : Sewart’s wife.
Richard Seill's daughter.
Marke Harrinson's wife.
Arthur Ellis.
Myles Riggs.
and 2 more or 3, and 7 horses, and one that escaped.'
This closing sentence has a subtlety of humour not often found in the staid pages of Parish Records.
The second authority is Wharton, the old chronicler, who has the following notice:-
"Eighteenth of October, 1635, the river Kent came into the vestry [Kendal Parish Church]. And 19th Thomas Miller, boatman, and 47 men and women were drown'd in Windermere water, with 9 or 10 horses, having been at a wedding."
Thirdly, there was published a volume, a few months after the accident, which gave a detailed account of the sad affair. It was entitled
" Fatal Nuptial ; Or, Mournful Marriage, relating to the Heavy and lamentable Accident lately occurring by the Drowning of 47 Persons (and some of them of especial Quality) in the Water of Windermere 19th Oct., 1635. —1636-2/-.
Last of all, but not the least interesting, is the versified reference by Hoggart, a local poetaster. It is as follows :
"Upon the 19th day of October, 1635 the Great Boat upon Windermere Water sunck about Sun Setting, when was drowned fforty-seaven persons and eleaven horses : ffrom Sudden Death Libera Nos.
Weepe not, sweet friends, but wipe away all teares
We are delivered from all human feares;
Let no man rashly judge of this our fall,
But rather let't a warning be to all;
And let none censure what we did,
Our thoughts were known to God, to mortals hid;
And though our bodyes sunk into the deepe,
Our soules did mounte, and therefore do not weepe."
So much for the "especial quality" of wedding guests—horses and men.
Thomas Hoggart, " Ald Hoggart" as he was commonly named, was one of those rhymsters (we must not too seriously call them poets) of the neighbourhood to whom attention was called in our previous article. He was a Troutbeck man, not a native of Bowness, though well known here; and, perhaps, not a little of his reputation was due to the fact that William Hoggarth, the famous artist, was his nephew. Cunningham, in his Life of the painter, says of Hoggart: He " was a rustic poet and satirist, whose rude and witty productions (in the opinion of Adam Walker, the natural philosopher) reformed the manners of the people as much, at least, as the services of the clergyman." The late Dr. Craig Gibson also remarks of Hoggart’s verses : “considering that the author was a poor denizen of a rude and remote fell-dale, who died at the commencement of last century, they are altogether surprising." Hoggart died in 1709. Two brief examples of his pen, in addition to the one already quoted, may be given. The first is:_
UPON THE PRESENT CLERK OF WINDERMERE.
Under these monumental stones,
A Parish Clerk doth lye,
A hogshead doth enclose his bones,
For he was always dry.
His lips unto the tap he laz'd,
His back to the bung-hole brink,
Who knows (although that he be dead)
But he may dream of drink.
To spare the fare of Charon's boats,
When he to Styx shall come,
This barrel may save him a groat.
To drink in Elysium.
The second is:
ON BOWNESS AND HER KIRK.
An old Kirk with a new steeple,
A poor towne and proud people.
Much more might be said concerning Hoggart did space but permit. A full account of his life and work was given, some time ago, in a booklet issued by G. Middleton, of Ambleside, and from which the above excerpts are mainly culled. He was, possibly, the best of his class, one of a type in which the true vein of humour was obvious mid uppermost, an artless unaffected soul—the very antipodes to such wretched drivellers as the “Poet Close."
******* A further piece of evidence I found at the Lancashire Archives where the renowned writer Thomas West (1720 - 1799) viewed the Grasmere register and noted the names of the deceased from the Great Boat Disaster of Windermere. West made famous his 'Viewing Stations' which were specific sites of great beauty, around the English Lakes, that he recommended to be viewed through a Claude Glass. This is basically a slightly convex portable mirror, which could be of various colours or hues, and with your back to the scene to be viewed you looked into the mirror which had caught (and coloured) the whole scene behind you. West had also viewed the Grasmere register and listed the names in letters to others.
A PREAMBLE, OR
INTRODUCTION
to this Funerall
POEME
FOR the quality of griefe, none
knowes it, but he who hath experimentally and personally felt it. That Place,
which hath hitherto been secured from the last perill, you shall now see
personated a spectacle of Sorrow: where those who vowed in a Sacred and
Christian manner, their vowes to Hymen, the Soveraigne of Nuptialls, are now
with Thetis To close in wat’ry Funeralls. The occasion of these sad
Obits proceded from a Marriage and a Market day, which begot to the Attendants
a mournefull night; yet from that Night (such was their assured expectance, and
our undoubted affiance) a happy day. The place, where these drenched Soules
were to take Boate, was that famous and renowned Mere of Windermere, a
Mere no less eminent and generously knowne for her Sole-breeding, and peculiar
kinde of fishes (commonly called Chares) as for those windy and
labyrinthian mazes, with those curiously shaded , beauteously tufted, naturally
fortifide, and impregnably seated Hands in every part of the Mere interveined.
To relate the several windings of it, or more historically to describe it, were
fruitless, being already explained by a genuine and learned Relater. To divert
then from the Place, to the sad occasion of this Action, thus I proceed.
Windermere, or
Winandermere, streaming, or rather staying in a continuate Tract or
Channell, without any visible of apparent Current, and dividing the Counties of
Westmerland and Lancashire, hath ever constantly kept a Boat for
Passengers; especially those Inhabitants who remaine or reside in the Barrony of
Kendall, (a place to her honour,
antiently famous for her Commerce and industrious Manufacture) as all others,
who may have occasion to addresse their course by that passage, to the Market
of *Hawkside, or other places adjoining.
To this Boat, upon a nuptiall but fatall occasion, sundry
Passengers, and these all Inhabitants within the Barrony of Kendall, (a
Burrough as I formerly observed, highly eminent, by having such neare relation and generall correspondence with most places
of trade or trafficke in this Kingdome) repaired; hoping with a safe and secure
gale to arrive, where no perill had ever yet approach’d. The Boat they enter’d,
securely confident, with 47. in number, besides other carriages and
horses, which (together with the roughnes of the water & extremity of
weather) occasioned this inevitable danger.
Lanch’d had these scarcely to the medth of the
water, being scantily a mile broad, but the Boat, either through the pressure
and weight which surcharg’d her, or some violent and impetuous windes and waves
that surpriz’d her, with all her people, became drench’d in the depths. No
succour, no reliefe afforded, for Gods definite Will had so decreed: So as, not
one person of all the number was saved: Amongst which, the Brides Mother, and
her Brother in this liquid regiment, equally perished.
To aggravate the quality of
this Accident, I need not; an imaginary representment of sorrow is sufficient
to it selfe. Onely, let me reare before your eyes this Theatre; on which you
are not to expect ought from this Tyringhouse of heaviness, but Scenes of
passion and disconsolate anguish.
Many of these left Wives without Husbands,
others Husbands without Wives; most of these, Children without Fathers or
Mothers. Estates they had, but indisposed; because in such a moment of time
prevented, as wherein they stood most secured, soonest abridged.
What a fatall Nuptiall was
this? when those Nuptiall ribbons and sprigges of Rosemary, which were given as
favours for a Nuptiall, became Rosemary sprigges to adorne their Funerall?
What an Embleme of Mortality may men see in
himselfe, in this image of himselfe? A Navigator is not to be secure in three
inches, nor man of his life, which is but a spanne. How secure were these in
their temperate mirth; and with what a calme Convoy they expected to arrive at
their Port? If we should consider those billowes, wherewith we are daily and
hourly encountered: those perilous passages, whereto we are exposed: with that
difficulty of the Haven, at which we are to be landed, wee would constantly
tremble, and stand in feare, least every wave, every worldly care,
should endanger our shipwracke.
What loving associates were these to Hymen?
what Conjugall consorts to a festive Nuptiall? yet see the close
of their marriage melody, drowns it selfe in a wat’ry Lachrymae!
What then on Earth is heere constant? or where in ought may we be confident? A
merry Evening makes an heavy morning: and a glad going out, a sad returning.
Sad to their friends, but cheerfull to their dearest soules, which have call’d
from the Depths, and are assuredly heard.
**It is a good
Prayer, to deliver us from sudden Death, yet there is no sudden Death
to them that die well. Gods mercy is betixt the bridge and the brinke;
Nor are we to despaire of these helpe, who in God repose their sole hope. Abyssus
abyssum invocate: These in the depth of their
misery, call’d upon the depth of Gods mercy; and though they could not reach to
land with the hand of their body; they reach’d with the hand of faith to the
Haven of Glory. As no man values the place of his Birth, so is hee not
to disvalue the place of his Death. Wee have a sacred President; to whom
neither place of Birth nor Death became an Ornament.
Wee are here to pass the
waters of tribulation; our Barkes are weake, our passage dangerous:
Shelves wee have full of perill: presumption to transport us, despaire
to deject us. If wee surcharge our vessel, what may wee expect but
drowning? if wee ballase it not enough, what may we looke for but floating? We
have an Anchor; it is our Saviour: wee cannot faile, if through him wee
suffer. Hee, who can command the Windes and the Seas, will waft us o’re these
troublesome Seas, and conduct us to the Port of rest.
It is time, that while wee are heere imbarked,
there is no security; Marchant venturers wee are all, hazarding our state,
stocke and store in crazy and leeking vessels. Wee bicker with waves,
stormes and tempests: even our own dissorting passions;
which like so many billowes, mutine in us, and threaten shipwracke. Neptunum
procul a terra; wee eye, and eying, sigh for our Haven.
Poor Sea-fairing Soules, what
a doe wee make with our distempered Motions, (which to use the words of that
Divine Father) swarme like so many Bees about us; and while they sting
us, wee hold them deare unto us!
Invironed wee are with danger
on the Maine; and perilous Sands and Shelv’s oppose us in our landing. Though
the Course of our Navigation be passing short; the continued Current of our
dangerous passage appears long.
We account him foolishly merry, and insensible
of perill, who, when the Windes rage, the Waves rise, & nothing but feare
and horrour become Objects to the weakned Ship, carrouseth and drinkes healths
to the Winde, as One secure of his approaching fate. And what lesse doe wee,
when in these weake Barkes of our Bodies, wee expose our selves to all sensuall
pleasures, as if wee were a shore and secure from danger, when wee are
surrounded with perill, and farre divided from our Harbour?
The Philosophers question
impli’d a Divine Morall: Quanta spissitudo navium? 4. digitorum. And
that Sacred Light of the Orientall Church might seeme to answer this, no
lesse positively than pithily: Tres cubiti terrae te expectant.
That surviving glory of Stagyrus
reports, that about the River Hypanis, which runneth through a part of
Europe into the Sea Pontus, are bred certaine Beastes which live but one
day; and surely, if wee should compare thus straite confined limit or period of
our own age with immortality, (the Soules sole-harbour after her disbarking
from the Sea of misery) we shall be found in regard to our frailty every way as
transitory, as these day-dying Beasts.
Death is such a discursive Serjeant, and so
serious in the discharge of his Errand, as there is no place of priviledge to
exclude him, or rescue the party arrested by him. Hee ha’s a Mace for the Sea,
as well as Land. Which may be instanced in no patterne more clearly, no Object
more truely, then in this Tragicke Scene of Sorrow, which we have now in
action: Where, of 47. as we have formerly related, not one secured, not one
from Death rescued: and this happened the 19. Of October.
But as waves follow waves, so it oftimes
falleth on the progress of woes, for no lesse remarkable is it, that upon the
6. November, a Graves-end Barge was by report cast away, seconding this former
very nearly, if not wholly, in number: but the apparancy of their danger begot
this report (as wee have since heard) without any other actuall disaster.
The use of these should necessarily conduce to
our selv’s: on Water and Land to recommend us in our passage and
conduct to his Sacred direction and protection, by whom wee breath and have
our being. In aquis & terries de Deo meditari, & ceolesti ejus
custodies now – Ipsos ***comendare, est neque ab
aquis nee a terries, motu vel metu discriminus imminentis, periclitari. And
Withall, to reteine a charitable opinion of such, as by these premature and
adventitious ends, are translated from us. Pauli nanfragium animae salus
fiut: Let us apply this, though in another sense addressed, to these
hopefull Soules now departed. Hee, who is the LORD of the Depths, can
extend his unbounded mercy to the Depths; and put an hooke in the nose-thrills
of that Leviathan, who raigneth, ruleth and rageth in the Depths.
This Preamble hath
enlarged it selfe to so extensive a measure, as it may seeme to some, to
resemble a Mindain Structure: but as arguments give light to Subjects;
so Preambles, by way of Introduction, have ever given light to
refinedst Poems.
(*In the
margin starting next to the word ‘Hawkside’ – The Charter of which Market was
procured by that industrious Agent for his Countrey [or is it Countey?], Mr.
Allen Nicholson.)
**So as
this night bee their proper impreze: Mergimur immerse rapida sub guzgite
tuti: “Per maze per terzas, Semita rects bonis.
***
Malum est mori in naufragio, & bonumest mori felize? – Aug in Psal c.48
“THE FATALL NVPTIALL.”
THE FATALL NVPPTIALL:
OR, MOVRNEFVLL MARRIAGE.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Poeme.
Hymen, put out thy lights,
thy selfe confound
With griefe, to see thy teare-swolne
cosorts drownd,
Thy late Attendants: See of forty seven
None rescued from death, but wholly driven
From hope, helpe, harbour! Recollect it thus,
And joyne in mournefull Eligies with us.
Husbands of Wives, Wives of their Husbands reft,
Parents of Babes, Babes of their Parents left.
Heere Widdows tears, and there poor Orphans cryes,
These fill the Cesterns of distilling eyes
With confluence of teares. What a sad Night
Hath damp’t the beauty of a Nuptiall light
With Universal sorrow? – Pray thee stay
And sayle along with me in this same way,
This wat’ry Region, where the curled waves
Afford us teares, and to their bodies graves:
- See, see the leeking Vessell how it strives
And combats with the waves, to save their lives!
It sighs and seeks for Land, but press’d with weather,
And her surcharged burden both together,
While surging billowes mount above the brinke,
Shee’s forc’d to yield, and with her fraught to sinke.
To sinke! O silence that perplexing word,
It will a Deluge of new griefe afford
To the relenting Reader, who with teares
Will rinse each comme and period that he heares:
And wooe th’ inraged waves, and chide them too,
When he in milder tearmes shall cease to woo;
And in such home bred Dialect as this,
Taxe them and tell them, that they did amisse.
(Hand) O
should you now see how Child clings on Mother,
Husband on Wife, Wife Husband,
one on other,
Grasping the yeelding Streames,
who in remorce
With Wat’ry veils shroud their inchanneld
coarse;
Should you conceit these Objects,
you with me
Would cloze in one-united Lachrymae.
O WINDERMERE, who art renown’d afarre
For thy sole-breeding there
unvalued Charre,
And with thy spacious channell
doest divide
Two antient Counties seated on
each side;
(Hand) May
thy fresh waters salt and brackish turne,
And in their chang’d condition
henceforth mourne;
May those distilling conduits of
thine,
Loosing their native sweetnesse
flow with brine:
Tuning each accent of this accident
To Swanlike Odes of dying
dreriment.
What did incense thee thus? What
furious fate?
Thethis and Hymen
were they at debate?
Did any impious one this
shipwracke cause,
Some high Delinquent to Heav’ns
sacred Lawes,
Whose deepe-dyde sinne did so the
State infest
As it became a Scourge unto the
rest
That were his haplesse Consorts?
or some wretch,
Some hideous hagge, or late-reprived
Witch
Sprung from those desart
Concaves, forlorne Cells,
Raising these stormes with their
infernall Spells?
No; No; nor this, nor that, nor
any these
Gave life to these expiring
miseries.
It was that fixt decree, to which
‘tis fit
That wee who are his Creatures
should submit.
The sacred Scriptures they will plainly tell
How those, on whom the Tower of
Shilo fell,
Were not the greatest sinners,
Nor ought we,
To judge, but by the rule of
Charitie
To measure all our Censures: for
who ar’t,
That liv’st so free from act, so
pure in hart,
Who canst in judgement with
th’Almighty stand,
Or prove good weight when
balanc’d by his hand?
If he doe spare then, ‘tis his
mercy to us,
And if hee scourge, hee doth but
justice doe us.
But let me now divert my dolefull
Scene,
And pencyle these who now have
drowned bene,
In their owne native feature!
“These were such
Who, to relieve their Meniey,
labour’d much
In their industrious Wool-worke;
justly fam’d,
And for their Manuall labour Sheare-men
nam’d.
An usefull mystery! Which though
it make
Course cloaths, and such as ne’re
did Alnage take,
Yet tis commodious to the
Common-weale,
And fit for Sale, although unfit
for Seale.
For if th’ poore work-man
scarcely can supply
With late and earely toile his
Family
Now when his Trading is exempt and
freed,
In paying Alnage how
should hee succeede?
But Heav’ns be blest for our
dread Soveraigne,
Who cheers with freedome such an
honest gaine.
Most then of these wract Passengers were such
Whom never yet ambition did
tutch,
Grinding oppression, griping
avarice,
“Conscience their praise, and
competence their prize.
Much comfort (sure) crowns such
wheres’ere they dye,
Though drencht below, their
thoughts are fixt on hye.
But amongst these, both love and blood doe urge
An higher straine of passion for
my *GEORGE.
*Mr.
George Wilson, Atturney in the Common Law: one of pregnant conceit and
sincere in the course of his practise.
Of pregnant ripe conceit, firme
to his friends,
And ne’re soak’t Clients purse
with endlesse ends;
Young, yet well read in hours;
fixing his love
On Lawes Divine and on the
Land above.
Such dispositions make a good Atturney,
And wing his passage for an
heav’nly journey:
Where he this fee may for
his labour erne,
Peacefull Eternity without a Terme.
(Hand) A
just weeke after, and same houre o’th day,
His Corpes were found, that hee
was throwne away,
Untouch’t and undisfigur’d; to
imply
Mans face i’th Depths
retieines a Majesty.
Next Him, those nursing fosters of my Three,
Three little ones, whom they so
carefullie
Tender’d, exact of me their
funeral teares,
With such a Monument as Vertue
reares
On her true-meaning followers:
for to show
How their industrious Master and
these two
Exprest their love and zeale to
me and mine,
Would aske a lasting-living-loving-line:
And Gratitude keepes somewhat to
requite;
“To Him my love, to Them
my last good-night.
Yet recollect those latest words
She said,
When she that fatall vessel entered,
While thrice she lanched forward
to the Maine,
Thrice she step’d in, and thrice
retyr’d againe,
As one divining what would after
fall,
With trickling teares thus on the
Oares did call;
Oh stay thy Boat, secure me and my Mate!
“One may
foresee, but not prevent their fate.
Next these, His
losse, who at my Table fed,
And as one of
mine owne, was sometimes bred,
I mone; One may
their duty farre forgit,
Yet God forbid,
wee should not this remit,
As wee hope for
remission: Hee is dead,
And with him my
disasts are buried.
To waft him o’re
(no doubt) it did Heav’ns please,
From th’waters
of Contention unto Peace.
For th’ rest, I knew them only by report,
Of honest fame,
though of obscurer sort.
And these with
those I confidently trust
Are now enrowl’d
ith’ number of the just.
Now to our selves let something be applied,
And then these
papers shall be laid aside,
“J’st so, that
we in hourely danger stand,
Whether wee
saile by Sea, or go by Land?
“That we to th’
World, but one entrance have,
But thousand
meanes of passage to our grave?
“That all our
ways are hedg’d about with feare,
While wee are
Pilgrims in this Desart heere?
“That none shall
be exempted, but must goe
Unto the place
where they’r confined to?
“And that the wise
shall no more fruit receave
Of all his
labours, then the foole shall have?
And that their
end’s alike, for both shall die
To prove them Coheirs
of Mortality?
“For th’ politick
Him must yield to swelling Humber,
As well as th’
least of his inferior number,
“And Archie
that rich foole, when he least dreames,
For purchast
lands, must be possest of streams:
“What can wee
practice, project or devise,
When ther’s no
priviledge for Foole or Wise?
Let’s like wise Merchants then, make it our
care
To looke unto
our Faith, our Fraught, our Fare;
Like Prudent
Pilots, on our guard let’s stand,
That with safe
prize wee may returne to Land.
For ev’n
methinks, before they yield to Fate,
Their case they
seeme thus to expostulate.
Spare me, insulting waves, the Father cryes,
Take pitty, of
my poore parentall eyes,
In me yee shall
drowne many; for my life
Supports a
Family, Children, and Wife.
These perish if
I fall; then pity take
If not for me,
yet for mine Infants sake.
I have
industrious beene, and given relief
Out of my little
store, to ease the griefe
Of hungry
Soules; Nor doe I boast of this,
For Heav’ns you
know, I’ve done too much amisse:
Not in those
works of mercy that were wrought,
Have I perform’d
my duty as I ought.
Give me some
longer respite, that I may
Redeeme the time
wherein I went astray.
Thou who
command’st the winds and waves, and went
Upon the waters,
calme this element;
Steere our weake
Barke, for it is in thine hand,
To still this
Storme, and bring us safe a land:
But let not our
will, but thy Will be done,
And as hee ends,
another streight begun.
I am a Mother, O deliver mee
From these
inclosing dangers which I see;
A tender Infant
hangs upon my brest,
And only in my
bosome takes sweet rest;
How will it cry,
if it his mother lacke!
Then for the Babes
sake shield me from this wracke.
If shuddering
horrour now surprize mine heart,
Oh what an
anguish will it be to part
A mother from
the fruit of her owne wombe,
And in the
wat’ry depths, to have a Tombe?
Excuse my feare,
deare Lord, it is not common
For vizile
Spouts to be in a Woman.
Where my Lord
is, my thoughts are fixed there,
Yet flesh and
blood their dissolution feare.
To thee then I
direct my sole request,
In whom I put my
trust, in whom I rest:
Incline thine
eare to a poore Womans crye,
And be thou
mine, whether I live or dye.
The feare-surpirized Childe, who
sighs for shore,
And ne’re knew
well what danger went before;
Sends forth a
shrieke or two, yet knows not why,
For ‘las hee
knowes not what it is to dye.
Oh save me, Mother! When shall we get home?
I have desire
that wee to land may come,
I’l goe no more
by Water, by your leave,
Nor shall a
Cock-boat e’re your boy receave.
What meane these
swelling bubbles that arise,
And with these
sprinklings wash mine head and eyes?
I cannot tell,
but they affright me sore,
Get I to land,
I’l trouble these no more.
At Ducke and
Drake I’d rather safely play,
On our owne
Poole upon the Holy-day.
- Ay me! That
last wave, mother, washt my coat,
An other such
would throw me out o’th Boat.
Faine would I
sleepe, but yet I cannot heere,
Take any rest,
I’m taken so with feare.
- Oh save me
Mother! thus her Lambkin cride;
And she with
teare-swolne eyes again replide.
Feare nothing,
Child: Heaven shield us from mishap;
Sleepe pretty
Ape, l’l shroud thee with my lap.
‘Twixt feare
and love such mutuall conflicts bee,
The waves socke
her, she him upon her knee.
Weigh these
surprised soules who rightly can,
And shares not
in these miseries of man
With joynt
compassion? Who can eye this Shelfe
Of danger, and
reflect not on himselfe?
Of the whole
substance of our Marchandize,
One onely
Pearle’s of unvalued prize:
Which got, wee
gaine; which lost, it is in vaine
To have possest
the Indies for our gaine.
Let’s then contemplate Him, where wee may
rest,
For all things
else are losse, hows’ere possest.
If wee have
wealth, perchance, wee have not health;
If wee have
health, perhaps, wee have not wealth;
If health and
wealth, yet friendship may be scant;
If health,
wealth, friendship, wee may honour want;
If health,
wealth, honour we injoyers be,
Yet what are
these if wee want libertie?
But God is all
in one, for it is hee
Who with a
girdle bounds the surging Sea:
Nought may
oppose his Empire, whose command
Reacheth from
Sea to Sea, from Land to Land.
Some Merchants
for Silkes, Sables, golden Oare,
Dive in the
depths, before they vent to shore,
But wee runne no
such hazard; for wee seaze
On Him, who in
Him seazeth wholy these.
Draw in thy sailes, my Muze; and muze
on Him,
Who free from
staine, assoiles our soules from sin.
*Jonah. 2.5.6. Who, when the Waters compasse us
halfe dead,
The Depths
enclose us, weedes enwrappe our head;
When wee to th’ bottome
of the mountains go,
And th’ Earth
with barres immuzes our bodies too;
Yet from the Pit
will Hee our Spirits raise,
To whom bee
still the sacrifice of Praise.
FINIS
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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archibald_Armstrong
Here, I am the documenter of the evidence and mainly choose not to offer my opinion as explanation, the reader can apply their own. It stands as a sad yet important piece of Westmorland history and one of the biggest fresh water drowning tragedies in the country. Certainly the poem hasn't been available in a public forum for approaching 400 years, which is surprising for what is one of the nation's greatest loss of lives. To my knowledge it took the sinking of the Marchioness on the River Thames on 19th August 1989 to surpass this lakeland tragedy, when 51 drowned.
(**On the meaning of 'barke', its usual meaning refers to a vessel or barge, but here, also a body carrying a soul.)
FOOTNOTE
It appears that the great boat tragedy was not the only fatality, and it is the accounts of the Fleming household of Rydal Hall that gives reference to another tragedy:
The Estate and
Household Accounts
of
Sir DANIEL FLEMING
of
Rydal Hall,
Westmorland
1688 – 1701
Page 245 - September 14 1697:
This day Tho. Brathwaits Great
boat was cast away, being over-loaded and it being a stormy day, with 4 men
therein viz. Rob. Grunel, Rob. Grunel his son, Will. Ellerey, & James
Brathwait of Sawerey, ye last of whom was drowned, & ye other three
narrowly escaped. She was loaded with Limestones. This Boat was cast away 62
yeares ago next Octob. ye. 19th, when 46 persons were drowned, &
7 Horses, it being a very windy day upon Windermere.