MacLean, Gerald, editor. The Return of the King : An Anthology of English Poems Commemorating the Restoration of Charles II / edited by Gerald MacLean
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John Tatham
verses from
from Londons Glory
5 July

   Titlepage: verses in: Londons Glory / Represented by / TIME, TRUTH, and FAME: / AT / The Magnificent TRIUMPHS and / ENTERTAINMENT / of His most Sacred MAJESTY / CHARLS the II. / The DUKES of York and Glocester, / The two Houses of Parliament, / Privy Councill, Judges, &c. / At Guildhall on Thursday, being the 5th. day / of July 1660. and in the 12th. Year of His / Majesties most happy Reign. / [rule] / TOGETHER / With the Order and Management of / the whole Days Business. [rule] / Published according to Order. / [rule] / London, Printed by William Godbid in Little Brittain. 1660. / [ornamental box]

    John Tatham wrote the Lord Mayor's pageants between 1657-1664.

    London's Glory is dedicated to Sir Thomas Aleyn, Lord Mayor of London and contains a brief epistle to the reader. After the speechs given here, the rest of the tract describes the order of the procession to Whitehall by the Mayor and representatives of the major guilds, where they are met by the royal party, including members of both houses of parliament, and the privy council. En route to Guildhall, the procession is variously interupted by pageants: at the conduit at Fleet Street, Time gives his speech, and then at St Pauls, Truth speaks. Apparently not all went according to plan: "Another Pageant presents its self at Foster-lane, being a large and goodly Fabrick, a Trumpeter placed on the Top, where it was intended Fame should speak; But at the great Conduit in Cheapside, Fame presents her Speech" (p. 8). Another poetic account appears in the broadside, The Royal Entertainment (cf)

    In 1660, 29 October, he produced a pageant The Royal Oake with Other various and delightfull Scenes presented on the Water and the Land, Celebrated in Honour of the deservedly Honoured Sir Richard Brown Bar. Lord Mayor of the City of London the 29th. day of October in the 12th year of his majesties most happy, happy, Reign, An. Dom. 1660. And performed at the Costs and Charges of the Right Worshipfull Company of Merchant-Taylors, Being twice as many Pageants and Speeches as have been formerly showen (London, 1660; O=Gough London 122.12) for the new Lord Mayor, Sir Robert Brown, a member of the Merchant Taylor's Company [Wing T232; L,O,CH]. In the year of Charles's return, Tatham also published The Rump: Or The Mirrour of the late Times. A New Comedy (1660), which claimed to have been "Acted Many Times with Great Applause, at the Private House in Dorset Court." O=Mal. 215(3). seen 4/96. In the first issue of the play, Lambert, Fleetwood, Wareston and Whitlock appear as characters with the names of Bertlam, Woodfleet, Stoneware, Lockwhit; a second issue calls them by their own names. Pepys bought a copy in November. Maidment and Logan reckon the play would have been performed in February, 1660 (p. 284).

[ornamental border]


Most Sacred Sir,

TIme on his bended knee your Pardon Craves,
Having been made a Property to Slaves;
A Stalking-horse unto their horrid Crimes,
Yet when things went not well the fault was Times.
My Fore-top held by Violence not Right,
Dy'd the Suns Cheeks with blood, defil'd the Light:
That all Men thought they eas'd their misery
If they could but Securely rail on me.
These Clamours troubled Time, who streight grew sick
With Discontents, as Touch'd unto the Quick;
And so far spent 'twas thought he could not mend,
Rather grow worse and worse; All wish'd his End.
Nay, was concluded dead, and worst of all
With many a Curse they Peal'd his Funeral.
Now see the Change, Since Your arrival here
Time is Reviv'd, and nothing thought too dear
That is Consum'd upon him, ne're was he
So lov'd and pray'd for since his Infancy.
Such is the Vertual Fervour of your Beams,
That not Obliquely but directly Streams
Upon your Subjects; So the Glorious Sun
Gives growth to th'infant Plants he smiles upon.
Welcome Great Sir unto your Peoples Love
Who breath their very Souls forth as You move.
Their long and tedious Suff'rings do express
'Till now they ne're had Sense of Blessedness.
The Cheer'd-up-Citizens cease to Complain,
Having Receiv'd their Cordial Soveraign.
Among the Rest the Skinners Company
Crowd to express their Sense of Loyalty
And those born deaf and dumb and can but 1 see
Make their hands speak Long live Your Majesty:
Whose Royal Presence cures the Wounded State
Re-guilds Time's Coat, and gives a turn to Fate.


[1] and can but] ed; and can can but LT, O1, O2, WF


Most gracious Soveraign,

BOund by allegiance, Truth, Daughter to Time
(Long since abus'd) Welcomes you to this Clime,
Your Native Soyle, to which you have been long
A Stranger; Now Truth should not want a Tongue,
Although she hath been Murder'd by Report
Shee's now Camp-Royal and Attends your Court;
And as in Rules of Strict Divinity,
He that desires the Judges Clemency,
Must first Condemn himself, and so prepare
His way for Pardon, 'tis your Kingdomes Care;
Who do confess whil'st other Nations strove
Which should be happiest in your Princely love,
Were so insensible of that blest heat
A Pulse they wanted Loyalty to beat;
With Penitential tears they meet your Palme
Shewing a Loyal Tempest in a Calme.
Then from your Rayes of Majesty they do
Derive such Joy speaks no less Wonder too,
Children that hardly hear'd of such a thing
Now frequently do cry God bless the King.
Nay though their damned Sires instructed them
To hate the Cask'net yet they'l love the Jem;
Such is your Radices that you Refine
Sublunar things to Species more divine.
You have new Coyn'd all hearts, and there Imprest,
Your Image which gives Vigour to the rest
Of their late stupid faculties that now,
They'l pass for Currant, and true Subjects grow:
Th'untainted Clothiers Company by me
Their Instrument, pray for your Majesty;
May you live long and happy, and Encrease,
For ever Crown the harvest of your peace;
Since graciously you have deceiv'd Our fears
Instead of Wars brought Musick of the spheres.



Most Mighty Sir,

FAme, that ne'r left you at the worst Essay,
Welcomes you home, and Glorifies this day:
You whose blest Innocence and matchless Mind
Could ne're be stain'd or any wayes Confin'd,
Has stood the Shock of Fortunes utmost hate
And yet your Courage did Outdare your Fate;
That even those Fiends (for sure none else could be
Your Enemies) admir'd Your Constancy;
Commending that they most did Envy, so
Against their Wills your Fame did Greater grow:
And when those Miscreants 'gainst you did prepare,
And thought You Sure, Your wisdom broke the snare.
'Twas strange that through the cloud none could descry
A Spark of that fulness of Majesty.
But Heav'n that Orders all things as it list
Shut up their Eyes in an Egyptian Mist.
You have past many Labyrinths, are Return'd
Now to Your People who long time have Mourn'd;
The want of Your warm Beams they have not known,
A Sommer since your Father left his Throne;
That like th'benum'd Muscovians they now run,
With eager hast to meet their Rising Sun;
And if the Rout in Uproar chance to be,
It cann't be Judg'd but Loyal Mutiny;
Since that You do their Golden Times Revive,
They to express a Joyful Salve strive;
Blest Prince thrice Welcome is the general Cry,
And in that speaks the Grocers Company;
To which the present Maior a Brother is,
Whose Loyalty finds happiness in this,
This Royal Change, Fame now shall spread his Wing,
And of your after Glories further sing;
Sionce in Your self You are a History
A Volume bound up for Eternity.