Edward Greensted's journey to Bethersden (1772)

Post date: Jan 28, 2012 6:0:36 PM

This ballad about his journey to Bethersden in November 1772 by Wateringbury historian Edward Greensted was originally edited by Jack Cronk and published in Archaeologia Cantiana, volume 111, 1993. It is reproduced here by kind permission of Kent Archaelogical Society.

Saturday I well remember

The Eighth and Twentieth of November

I start for Bethersden intent

To find friend Powel's settlement.

With a lantern, Candle, moving by five

Set out as hard as I could drive.

Unlucky was at first no doubt

I fell down and put my candle out.

Lighted up again at Teston

And road pursued with might and main

Till light, again, was forced to yield

to wind in Mr Charlton's field.

Got a light again at Farley Green

And soon by me Cocks Heath was seen.

To Linton the road still rough

Here got a pint & an ounce of snuff.

Hear blustering wind and driving rain

Bothered and drove me o'er the plain

Thro' thick, thro' thin, now wrong now right

Half up the Ley -I lost my light.

But dawning light now seven o'clock

I found myself at Boughton Cock.

Left here my Lantern, got some rum

Not having drank since came from home

Refresh'd set forward with good heart

Walked briskly till I came to Chart

Called on Ned Brook acquaintance old

Who gave me a dram to keep out the cold

And raised a fire to keep me warm

My poor old coat being quite wet through.

Then asked me in a friendly way

Break fast with them - at tea to stay

May every blessing Ned attend

And wet thro' ne'er want a friend,

To dry his coat, ask him to eat

and could him with a dram treat

here sit I now both dry and warm

which happened not till after even

the clock had struck, and gone eleven,

Roused now at my unlocked for stay

Took leaf, for Sutton took my way

Here stopt - enquired the rediest road

To Bethersden, my friends abode -

I was told the Country down below

was all with water in a flow,

by Headcorn, Smarden couldn't go

And if my journey I'd fulfil

Keep round I must upon the hill.

Lengthened my journey this the case

Obliged I was to mend my pace

Straight to East Sutton took my way

To Ulcombe next - here made some stay

Just drank a pint with Neighbour Pain,

and took me to my road again.

Here Boughton Malherbe took my way

Passed here the Church where the Wottons lay

Once here a name of great reknown

Tho' now forgot, a name scarcely known

Down hill - up hill I hence went on

Till nearly came to Egerton.

The Road inquir'd still - the meanwhile -

Till Crablin Barrs would have Stile,

indeed a fact with him disputed

But obstinate he'd not be refuted

Lucky from him I understood

At last, the Road lay thro' a wood.

To Egerton came next the Street,

Here took a dram, but nothing to eat -

To Pluckley next the road I took

Pass I many a dirty Road and Brook

Call'd for a pint being well mired

For Bethersden the road inquired -

Sundown. Road I had to find,

Besides advers'd [advised] to have a guide -

I soon consented this, some cost -

Unwilling I was not to be lost -

In quicksand ditches or mire slough

Then lets get out if I know how,

A guide for me was so procured

One to this country long inured

Brisk on his staff, did soon arrive

Three weeks advanced he's eighty five

Deaf as a post, so though he neither

Fear'd Marl pit, slough, ditch, wind nor weather

Agreed with him for sixteen pence

Safe to conduct me there from hence

One shilling dry, a Groat in beer

When safe we both arrived there

Set out we passed o'er hedges and fields

Mire bogs which this blest country yields

Dark blustring - could not see my hands

Uncertain whether sea or land

Civil my Guide still as we passed

Expressed his fear - he walked too fast

Oblig'd I bid him still go on -

By eighty five would not be outdone

Nor Ditch, for Dark we could not see over

Fell at first & then got over -

Oft courted by the attracting clay

Our shoes to leave another day.

Kept on we. Ruffet crost

Till in the dark my friend I lost,

I mist him as he pass'd his muse

one so famed to read through use

Now fors'd to hallow out a maine

Ere I my guide I found againe

Once more now met, made fresh assay

Till both lost in a miry way

Though I must here not only lose

E'en one, but also both my shoes

But resolute by mear main strength

we Freed our legs - got out at length

made most of time & travell'd hard.

Till safe we got in the Churchyard.

But interrupt'd in our chat

I fell o'er the graves and lost my hat

Blown somewhere by the gust of wind

Search'd but in vain no hat could find

Oblidg'd to leave it with the dead

And at the George arriv'd bare head.

Here got a light & with some pain,

Went back and found my hat again,

Wet, dirty set me by the fire -

Shoes, stockings, coat all in a mire

My stomach loudly called for meat

Steaks got for supper I hardly eat

Some beer got after, and some wine

Went off to bed, the clock struck nine.

But should have told you that my guide

In vain for home this evening tried

Set out - lost in the dark his way

Came back again & with me slept

Laid warm, we soundly slept all night

Rose in the morn'g as soon as light

My stockings wet they made me shiver

As those who with an ague (do) quiver

Had yet a mile and half to go

To Powels at a green below,

To shew the road I begg'd my friend

Would further his assistance lend

Willing he was to go, but thought

And feared the he'd most forgot

The fifty years or more agow

he went each morn that way to mow

Nor travel'd since he had that road

Removed hence distant his abode.

Unlucky we mistook the stile

and wandered wrong for half a mile

But found at last Friend Powels home

who wonder'd star'd to see us come

Housekeeper, him at breakfast found

Ask'd us to tea and sit us down

beg him to excuse my stay

for business done I must away

Up to the George there breakfast took

towards home then my journey make

Sunday bells now begin to chime

The Church I viewed, but my short time

I saw here to tombs of most repute

from Lovelaces & down to Chute

Decent tho' Gothick still most neat

The Temple seen & Pew'd complete

From the Churchyard hence view'd Palace

The Mansion Bethersden and Lovelace.

Lovelace here erst of noble fame

Who to the Mansion lent their name

Extinct that name, next with repute

A Hales succeeded, then a Chute

Famous alliance. Tho now forgot

Unless by Tombs to mem'ry brought

Learn giddy mortals hence to know

nothing substantial here below.

But learning now the musing strain

For home I now set out again

O'er meads thro woods each Cosway I tread

Towards the town of Smarden led.

The cosway smooth of slated stone

Tenacious found here many one

form'd of the Perriwinkles kind [Bethersden marble!]

Compact in masses formerly joined

but how they came connected so

To naturalists I leave to show.

The nodding mansion next I past

and tow'ring Seat surround with Tolls

here of oaks seen rise on high

While the late Vestas round lie

May the right owner of this place

Proceed to wipe off such disgrace -

My friend now eased us of some toil

Cut a cross the fields sav'd near a mile.

Smarden the town saw it nigh

The Church to the left we pass'd by

Where Justice Drainer once of fame

Of Justice Nine Hales got the name

who in the bloody Mary days

Informer turned, fortune to raise

Here through nine Hales with many a nod

Respt'd and adored his past wrought God

To Protestants denounced still was

who Reverence none his God would show

But in the end it came to pass

he lost his God and proved an ass

But leaving him long dead and gone

Our road we still kept briskly on

Call'd drank a mug of beer at the Kings Head

Still kept the road to Headcorn led.

Hence soon a Baptis meeting past

The preacher at it loud and fast

of noise possessed a noble stock

and loudly ball'd o'er all his flock

To hear his Doctrine could not stay

Oblig'd to keep still on our way

Nor nothing of notice 'tmore did meet

Until we came to Headcorn Street

Saw here the Church where once of old

The Monks seiz'd, satanic we're told

When holy water be to shund

Feign'd from the sprinkling mop to run

Here Monk a Saint, there Monk a devil

Passed on the vulgar of those days

From pious cheat their gain to raise

Monks for their gain know how to do it

If not the friend - still some shall rue it

My friend & I being now to part

I treated him with beer a quart

Who civil to me still was seen

Went with me to FivePlum-tree green

Direct me the ready way -

That to the town of Sutton lay

The nearest road by Sutton then

He told me was by Mottenden -

But I somehow by a mistake

To Farthing Green my way did make.

Thro thick, thro thin the Horse track round

I got from hence to Sutton Town -

Here stopt awhile I made a stand -

One footing more, I found on dry land,

The Church bells had just rung -

The Evening Service to begin -

Here got I some beer, bread & Cheese

And now refreshed my way I took

To see my honest Friend Ned Brook

Who gave me kindly in relief

Some good Plumb pudding & boiled beef

Diet before I ne'er had found -

In all my dirty tedious round

Insisted, made me to agree -

To stay and drink a dish of tea -

The evening with darkness spread

And I so far home to my bed -

My friend a lantern lent and light

Cross to Cocks Heath - he'd set me right

And to my friends I now in brief

Gave thanks & to him took my leave

For Ambro Green now set off straight

From whence to the fields I mist the gate

Met here some beaus, who thought fit

Me, to direct into a pit -

not them to mind as under brained

My road I found, Cocks Heath attained

Where at the Cock I staid an hour -

To save me from a bothering shower

The shower o'er I lighted up -

Intended yet at Home to sup

Walked on with all convenient haste

Till the Star some distance past

When yet the wind still at its height

Once more again blew out my light

Went to the Star to light again

Here comp'ny I found in a merry vain

Near half seas over - harty fellows

From Maidstone some both blues & yellows

Talked politicks of town and Nation -

But disagreed in conversation

I sat to drink my pint and heard 'em

But sometimes they so high I fear'd 'em

One asked the meaning of a Blue

Which he himself no other knew

Dropt this discourse - The next in vogue

Friend Wilks - blue, swore he was a rogue

Maintained the contrary by Yellows

Who Wilks declared an honest fellow

That bravely for his country stood

Rights, Liberties, & all thats good

Words high - ill language neither spared

Fell both together by the ears

The women squall'd alls in uprore

They fought and roll about the floor

To fight the Champions little stood

And best of all - was shed no blood

They struck indeed like other folks

But staggering - still they miss their strokes

Till by the interposing friend

The fight was put unto an end

And as friend Hudibras doth say

both lived to fight another day

My pint now out, and reckoning paid

Left Blues and Yellows - homewards made

Cocks Heath now crossed, the road there led

Thro Farleigh Street - here all abed

Toward Teston next I took my rout

Once more my candle here went out

Through Teston come without a light

And home I got about twelve at night

Wet - dirty was enough in reason

Nor journey good for the winter season

The country wild & weather rough

Gave me of Bethersden enough

And let what will hence be my station

I wish no such like perambulation.