84 JOURNAL OF JOHN ASTON, 1639 



us that favour, that Mr Willbraham and my-selfe were admitted 

 to ly in the same poore bed and nasty sheetes which my Lord 

 of Arundell's steward had formerly layen in (how long wee 

 knew not) but, by their sent, it might have beene his cooke 

 or scullion rather, for their smell and uncleannesse would affoord 

 us but little rest ; yet Mr Willbraham would needes goe into 

 bed, and Mr Crew, as a greater privilege, had little Jeiferye's 

 bed and foule sheetes to himself e. Beeing thus satisfied for 

 lodging, our next care was for victualls : the house would 

 affoord us none, and to buy any in that or any other villadge 

 was a bootelesse hope, the whole army having devoured all 

 the store thereabouts. Some tents there were yet standing 

 at Gosswick, and Mr Willbraham and my-selfe having the 

 sharpest appetites repaired thither in hopes to get somewhat 

 to stay our stomacks, and, beeing devided, I met with Sir 

 Ellis Hicks and Mr Butler and Mr Slater who tooke me into 

 their tent and gave mee a joint of roast mutton out of their 

 stoare ; I came then to Mr Willbraham to shew him how wee 

 had sped, and wee thought our-selves not meanely fortunate ; 

 yet afterwards wee mended our commons, for wee found the 

 king's kitchin tent standing, and there wee stored our-selves 

 both for our dinner, supper, and breakfast the next morning, 

 more constant meales than souldiours usually have. In the 

 meane time Mr Crew taking care of his horse shewed more 

 of his mercy to his beast than Dr Turner^^ did to one of 

 his servants, a footman, who lay then gasping for life in the 

 stable over head in straw, and Mr Crew had like to have 

 set his horse on topp of him, whom his master (though he 

 were a physitian) tooke noe charitable care for, neither sent 

 him any thing to comfort him in that languishing paine, till 

 hee was cryed out to by the servants of the house, and then 

 it came too late, hee breathing his last about an houre after 

 wee came in, having poysoned him-selfe (as they conjectured) 

 with ill dyet and corrupt water, and his master tooke as 

 little care to give him a decent oi- christian buriall. This 

 was a poore meane house with thick walls (somewhat castle- 

 like) and a flatt roofe, from whence that evening, the Holy 



^ Querij. Dr Samuel Turner who died 1647. 



