Books: Memoirs of Lady Fanshawe
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Lady Fanshawe >> Memoirs of Lady Fanshawe
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As soon as it was day, we began our journey towards Nantz, and by the
way we passed by a little poor chapel, at the door of which a friar
begged an alms, saying, that he would show us there the greatest
wonder in the world. We resolved to go with him. He went before us to
the altar, and out of a cupboard, with great devotion, he took a box,
and crossing himself he opened it, in that was another of crystal that
contained a little silver box; he lifting this crystal box up, cried,
'Behold in this the hem [Footnote: Thus in the MS.; but query if a
mistake of the transcriber.] of St. Joseph, which was taken as he
hewed his timber!' To which my husband replied, 'Indeed, Father, it is
the lightest, considering the greatness, that I ever handled in my
life.' The ridiculousness of this, with the simplicity of the man,
entertained us till we came to Nantz. We met by the way good grapes
and walnuts growing, of which we culled out the best.
Nantz is a passable good town, but decayed: some monasteries in it,
but none good nor rich. There was in a nunnery, when I was there, a
daughter of Secretary Windebank. There is English provisions, and of
all sorts, cheap and good. We hired a boat to carry us up to Orleans,
and we were towed up all the river of Loire so far. Every night we
went on shore to bed, and every morning carried into the boat wine and
fruit, and bread, with some flesh, which we dressed in the boat, for
it had a hearth, on which we burnt charcoal: we likewise caught carps,
which were the fattest and the best I ever eat in my life. And of all
my travels none were, for travel sake as I may call it, so pleasant as
this; for we saw the finest cities, seats, woods, meadows, pastures,
and champaign that I ever saw in my life, adorned with the most
pleasant river of Loire; of which, at Orleans, we took our leaves.
Arriving, about the middle of November 1650, at Paris, we went, so
soon as we could get clothes, to wait on the Queen-Mother and the
Princess Henrietta. The Queen entertained us very respectfully, and
after many favours done us, and discoursing in private with your
father about affairs of state, he received her Majesty's letters to
send to the King, who was then on his way to Scotland. We kissed her
hand and went to Calais, with resolution that I should go to England,
to send my husband more money, for this long journey cost us all we
could procure: yet this I will tell you, praised be God for his
peculiar grace herein, that your father nor I ever borrowed money nor
owed for clothes, nor diet, nor lodging beyond sea in our lives, which
was very much, considering the straits we were in many times, and the
bad custom our countrymen had that way, which did redound much to the
King's dishonour and their own discredit.
When we came to Calais, my husband sent me to England, and staying
himself there, intending, as soon as he had received money, to go and
live in Holland until such time as it should please Almighty God to
enable him again to wait on his Majesty, now in Scotland, both to give
him an account of his journey into Spain, as of the rest of his
employments since he kissed his hand. But God ordered it otherwise;
for the case being that the two parties in Scotland being both
unsatisfied with each other's ministers, and Sir E. Hyde and Secretary
Nicholas being excepted against, and left in Holland, it was proposed,
the state wanting a Secretary for the King, that your father should be
immediately sent for, which was done accordingly, and he went with
letters and presents from the Princess of Orange, and the Princess
Royal.
Here I will show you something of Sir Edward Hyde's nature: he being
surprised with this news, and suspecting that my husband might come to
a greater power than himself, both because of his parts and integrity,
and because himself had been sometimes absent in the Spanish Embassy,
he with all the humility possible, and earnest passion, begged my
husband to remember the King often of him to his advantage as occasion
should serve, and to procure leave that he might wait on the King,
promising, with all the oaths that he could express to cause belief,
that he would make it his business all the days of his life to serve
your father's interest in what condition soever he should be in: thus
they parted, with your father's promise to serve him in what he was
capable of, upon which account many letters passed between them.
When your father arrived in Scotland, he was received by the King with
great expressions of great content; and after he had given an account
of his past employment, he was by the King recommended to the York
party, who received him very kindly, and gave him both the broad seal
and signet to keep.
They several times pressed him to take the Covenant, but he never did,
but followed his business so close, with such diligence and temper,
that he was well beloved on all sides, and they reposed great trust in
him. When he went out of Holland, he wrote to me to arm myself with
patience in his absence, and likewise that I would not expect many
letters as was his custom, for that was now impossible; but he hoped,
that when we did meet again, it would be happy and of long
continuance, and bade me trust God with him, as he did me, in whose
mercy he hoped, being upon that duty he was obliged to, with a
thousand kind expressions.
But God knows how great a surprise this me, being great with child,
and two children with me not in the best condition to maintain them,
and in daily fears of your father upon the private account of
animosities amongst themselves in Scotland; but I did what I could to
arm myself, and was kindly visited both by my relations and friends.
About this time my cousin Evelyn's wife [Footnote: Evelyn frequently
mentions his "cousin Richard Fanshawe," in his Diary. On the 6th of
February, 1651-2, he says, "I went to visit my cousin Richard
Fanshawe, and divers other friends"; and on the 6th of March, in that
year, he observes, "My cousin Richard Fanshawe came to visit me, and
inform me of many considerable affairs." On the 23rd of November,
1654, he went to London to visit his "cousin Fanshawe."--Diary, vol.
ii. pp. 48, 49, 98. Lady Brown, Mr. Evelyn's mother-in-law, died at
Woodcot, in Kent, towards the end of October 1652.--Ibid. p. 61.] came
to London, and had newly buried her mother, my Lady Brown, wife to Sir
Richard Brown, that then was resident for the King at Paris. A little
before she and I and Doctor Steward, a Clerk of the closet to King
Charles the First, christened a daughter of Mr. Waters, near a year
old. About this time, Lord Chief Justice Heath died at Calais, and
several of the King's servants at Paris, amongst others Mr. Henry
Murray, of his bedchamber, a very good man.
I now settled myself in a handsome lodging in London. With a heavy
heart I stayed in this lodging almost seven months, and in that time I
did not go abroad seven times, but spent my time in prayer to God for
the deliverance of the King and my husband, whose danger was ever
before my eyes. I was seldom without the best company, and sometimes
my father would stay a week, for all had compassion on my condition. I
removed to Queenstreet, and there in a very good lodging I was upon
the 24th of June delivered of a daughter: in all this time I had but
four letters from your father, which made the pain I was in more
difficult to bear.
I went with my brother Fanshawe to Ware Park, and my sister went to
Balls, to my father, both intending to meet in the winter; and so
indeed we did with tears; for the 3rd of September following was
fought the battle of Worcester, when the King being missed, and
nothing heard of your father being dead or alive, for three days it
was inexpressible what affliction I was in. I neither eat nor slept,
but trembled at every motion I heard, expecting the fatal news, which
at last came in their news-book, which mentioned your father a
prisoner.
Then with some hopes I went to London, intending to leave my little
girl Nan, the companion of my troubles, there, and so find out my
husband wheresoever he was carried. But upon my coming to London, I
met a messenger from him with a letter, which advised me of his
condition, and told me he was very civilly used, and said little more,
but that I should be in some room at Charing-cross, where he had
promise from his keeper that he should rest there in my company at
dinner-time: this was meant to him as a great favour. I expected him
with impatience, and on the day appointed provided a dinner and room,
as ordered, in which I was with my father and some of our friends,
where, about eleven of the clock, we saw hundreds of poor soldiers,
both English and Scotch, march all naked on foot, and many with your
father, who was very cheerful in appearance, who after he had spoken
and saluted me and his friends there, said, 'Pray let us not lose
time, for I know not how little I have to spare. This is the chance of
war; nothing venture, nothing have; so let us sit down and be merry
whilst we may.' Then taking my hand in his and kissing me, 'Cease
weeping, no other thing upon earth can move me: remember we are all at
God's disposal.'
Then he began to tell how kind his Captain was to him, and the people
as he passed offered him money, and brought him good things, and
particularly Lady Denham, at Borstal-house, who would have given him
all the money she had in her house, but he returned her thanks, and
told her he had so ill kept his own, that he would not tempt his
governor with more, but if she would give him a shirt or two, and some
handkerchiefs, he would keep them as long as he could for her sake.
She fetched him two smocks of her own, and some handkerchiefs, saying
she was ashamed to give him them, but, having none of her sons at
home, she desired him to wear them.
Thus we passed the time until order came to carry him to Whitehall,
where, in a little room yet standing in the bowling-green, he was kept
prisoner, without the speech of any, so far as they knew, ten weeks,
and in expectation of death. They often examined him, and at last he
grew so ill in health by the cold and hard marches he had undergone,
and being pent up in a room close and small, that the scurvy brought
him almost to death's door.
During the time of his imprisonment, I failed not constantly to go,
when the clock struck four in the morning, with a dark lantern in my
hand, all alone and on foot, from my lodging in Chancery Lane, at my
cousin Young's, to Whitehall, in at the entry that went out of King
Street into the bowling-green. There I would go under his window and
softly call him: he, after the first time excepted, never failed to
put out his head at the first call: thus we talked together, and
sometimes I was so wet with the rain, that it went in at my neck and
out at my heels. He directed me how I should make my addresses, which
I did ever to their general, Cromwell, who had a great respect for
your father, and would have bought him off to his service upon any
terms.
Being one day to solicit for my husband's liberty for a time, he bade
me bring the next day a certificate from a physician, that he was
really ill. Immediately I went to Dr. Bathurst, that was by chance
both physician to Cromwell and to our family, who gave me one very
favourable in my husband's behalf. I delivered it at the Council
Chamber, at three of the clock that afternoon, as he commanded me, and
he himself moved, that seeing they could make no use of his
imprisonment, whereby to lighten them in their business, he might have
his liberty upon four thousand pounds bail, to take a course of
physic, he being dangerously ill. Many spake against it, but most Sir
Henry Vane, who said he would be as instrumental, for aught he knew,
to hang them all that sat there, if ever he had opportunity, but if he
had liberty for a time, that he might take the engagement before he
went out: upon which Cromwell said, 'I never knew that the ENGAGEMENT
[Footnote: Cromwell probably meant to pun upon this word.--In Ireland,
"engagement" means an ISSUE; "an engagement in the neck," arm, &c.,
i.e., an issue in those places.] was a medicine for the scorbutic.'
They, hearing their General say so, thought it obliged him, and so
ordered him his liberty upon bail. His eldest brother, and sister
Bedell, and self, were bound in four thousand pounds; and the latter
end of November he came to my lodgings, at my cousin Young's. He there
met many of his good friends and kindred; and my joy was
inexpressible, and so was poor Nan's, of whom your poor father was
very fond. I forgot to tell you, that when your father was taken
prisoner of war, he, before they entered the house where he was,
burned all his papers, which saved the lives and estates of many a
brave gentleman.
When he came out of Scotland, he left behind him a box of writings, in
which his patent of Baronet was, and his patent of additional arms,
[Footnote: A coat of augmentation was granted to Richard Fanshawe,
Esq., Remembrancer of the Exchequer, and to his family, by patent,
dated at Jersey, 8th of February, 2 Car. II. 1650, being "Cheeky
Argent and Azure, a Cross Gules." Grants of that kind to persons who
distinguished themselves in the service of the King were very common,
and consisted, in most cases, either of the lion of England, a fleur-
de-lis, or, as in the instance of Mr. Fanshawe, of the Cross of St.
George. Sir Richard was created a Baronet on the 2nd of September
1650.] which was safely sent after him, after the happy restoration of
the King. You may read your father's demeanour of himself in this
affair, wrote by his own hand, in a book by itself amongst your books,
and it is a great masterpiece, as you will find.
Within ten days he fell very sick, and the fever settled in his throat
and face so violently, that, for many days and nights, he slept no
more but as he leaned on my shoulder as I walked: at last, after all
the Doctor and Surgeon could do, it broke, and with that he had ease,
and so recovered, God be praised! In 1652, he was advised to go to
Bath for his scorbutic that still hung on him, but he deferred his
journey until August, because I was delivered on the 30th of July of a
daughter.
At his return, we went to live that winter following at Benfield, in
Hertfordshire, a house of my niece Fanshawe's. In this winter my
husband went to wait on his good friend the Earl of Strafford, in
Yorkshire; and there my Lord offered him a house of his in Tankersly
Park, which he took, and paid 120 l. a year for. When my husband
returned, we prepared to go in the spring to this place, but were so
confined, that my husband could not stir five miles from home without
leave. About February following, my brother Neuce died, at his house
at Much Hadham, in Hertfordshire. My sister, Margaret Harrison,
desired to go to London, and there we left her: she soon after married
Mr. Edmund Turner, afterwards Sir Edmund.
In March we with our three children, Anne, Richard, and Betty, went
into Yorkshire, where we lived a harmless country life, minding only
the country sports and country affairs. Here my husband translated
Luis de Camoens; and on October 8th, 1653, I was delivered of my
daughter Margaret. I found all the neighbourhood very civil and kind
upon all occasions; the place plentiful and healthful, and very
pleasant, but there was no fruit: we planted some, and my Lord
Strafford says now, that what we planted is the best fruit in the
North.
The house of Tankersly and Park are both very pleasant and good, and
we lived there with great content; but God had ordered it should not
last, for upon the 20th of July 1654, at three o'clock in the
afternoon, died our most dearly beloved daughter Ann, whose beauty and
wit exceeded all that ever I saw of her age. She was between nine and
ten years old, very tall, and the dear companion of my travels and
sorrows. She lay sick but five days of the smallpox, in which time she
expressed so many wise and devout sayings, as is a miracle for her
years. We both wished to have gone into the same grave with her. She
lies buried in Tankersly church, and her death made us both desirous
to quit that fatal place to us; and so the week after her death we
did, and came to Hamerton, and were half a year with my sister Bedell.
Then my husband was sent for to London, there to stay, by command of
the High Court of Justice, and not to go five miles from that town,
but to appear once a month before them. We then went again to my
cousin Young's, in Chancery Lane: and about Christmas my husband got
leave to go to Frog-Pool, in Kent, to my brother Warwick's; where,
upon the 22nd of February 1655, I was delivered of a daughter, whom we
named Ann, to keep in remembrance her dear sister, whom we had newly
lost. We returned to our lodgings in Chancery Lane, where my husband
was forced to attend till Christmas 1655; and then we went down to
Jenkins, to Sir Thomas Fanshawe's; but upon New Year's Day my husband
fell very sick, and the scorbutic again prevailed, so much that it
drew his upper lip awry, upon which we that day came to London, into
Chancery Lane, but not to my cousin Young's, but to a house we took of
Sir George Carey, for a year. There by the advice of Doctor Bathurst
and Doctor Ridgley, my husband took physic for two months together,
and at last, God be praised! he perfectly recovered his sickness, and
his lip was as well as ever.
In this house, upon the 12th day of July in 1656, I was delivered of a
daughter, named Mary; and in this month died my second daughter,
Elizabeth, that I had left with my sister Boteler, at Frog-Pool, to
see if that air would recover her; but she died of a hectic fever, and
lies buried in the church of Foots Cray. My husband, weary of the
town, and being advised to go into the country for his health,
procured leave to go in September to Bengy, in Hertford, to a little
house lent us by my brother Fanshawe.
It happened at that time there was a very ill kind of fever, of which
many died, and it ran generally through all families: this we and all
our family fell sick of, and my husband's and mine after some months
turned to quartan agues; but I being with child, none thought I could
live, for I was brought to bed of a son in November,[Footnote: "This
son, Henry, lies buried in Bengy church."] ten weeks before my time;
and thence forward until April 1658, I had two fits every day, that
brought me so low that I was like an anatomy. I never stirred out of
my bed seven months, nor during that time eat flesh, nor fish, nor
bread, but sage posset drink, and pancake or eggs, or now and then a
turnip or carrot. Your father was likewise very ill, but he rose out
of his bed some hours daily, and had such a greediness upon him, that
he would eat and drink more than ordinary persons that eat most,
though he could not stand upright without being held, and in perpetual
sweats, and that so violent that it ran down day and night like water.
This I have told you that you may see how near dying we were; for
which recovery I humbly praise God. He got leave in August to go to
Bath, which, God be praised! perfectly recovered us, and so we
returned into Hertfordshire, to the Friary of Ware, which we hired of
Mrs. Heydon for a year. This place we accounted happy to us, because
in October we heard the news of Cromwell's death, upon which my
husband began to hope that he should get loose of his fetters, in
which he had been seven years; and going to London, in company with my
Lord Philip, Earl of Pembroke, he lamented his case of his bonds to
him that was his old and constant friend. He told him that if he would
dine with him the next day, he would give him some account of that
business. The next day he said to him, 'Mr. Fanshawe, I must send my
eldest son into France; if you will not take it ill that I desire your
company with him and care of him for one year, I will procure you your
bonds within this week.' My husband was overjoyed to get loose upon
any terms that were innocent, so, having seen his bonds cancelled, he
went into France to Paris, from whence he by letter gave an account to
Lord Chancellor Clarendon of his being got loose, and desired him to
acquaint his Majesty of it, and to send him his commands, which was
about April 1659. He did to this effect, that his Majesty was then
going a journey, which afterwards proved to Spain; but upon his
return, which would be about the beginning of winter, my husband
should come to him, and that he should have, in present, the place of
one of the Masters of Request, and the Secretary of the Latin Tongue.
Then my husband sent me word of this, and bade me bring my son
Richard, and my eldest daughters with me to Paris, for that he
intended to put them to a very good school that he had found at Paris.
We went as soon as I could possibly accommodate myself with money and
other necessaries, with my three children, one maid, and one man. I
could not go without a pass, and to that purpose I went to my cousin
Henry Nevill, [Footnote: He was her cousin, being the second son of
Sir Harry Nevill the younger, of Billingbere, in Essex, by Elizabeth,
daughter of Sir John Smythe, of Ostenhanger, sister to the first
Viscount Strangford.] one of the High Court of Justice, where he was
then sitting at Whitehall. I told him my husband had sent for me and
his son, to place him there, and that he desired his kindness to help
me to a pass: he went in to the then masters, and returned to me,
saying, 'that by a trick my husband had got his liberty, but for me
and his children, upon no conditions we should not stir.' I made no
reply, but thanked my cousin, Henry Nevill, and took my leave. I sat
me down in the next room, full sadly to consider what I should do,
desiring God to help me in so just a cause as I then was in. I began
and thought if I were denied a passage then, they would ever after be
more severe on all occasions, and it might be very ill for us both. I
was ready to go, if I had a pass, the next tide, and might be there
before they could suspect I was gone: these thoughts put this
invention in my head.
At Wallingford House, the Office was kept where they gave passes:
thither I went in as plain a way and speech as I could devise, leaving
my maid at the gate, who was much a finer gentlewoman than myself.
With as ill mien and tone as I could express, I told a fellow I found
in the Office that I desired a pass for Paris, to go to my husband.
'Woman, what is your husband, and your name?' 'Sir,' said I, with
many courtesies, 'he is a young merchant, and my name is Ann
Harrison.' 'Well,' said he, 'it will cost you a crown:'--said I, 'That
is a great sum for me, but pray put in a man, my maid, and three
children.' All which he immediately did, telling me a malignant would
give him five pounds for such a pass.
I thanked him kindly, and so went immediately to my lodgings; and with
my pen I made the great H of Harrison, two ff, and the rrs, an n, and
the i, an s, and the s, an h, and the o, an a, and the n, a w, so
completely, that none could find out the change. With all speed I
hired a barge, and that night at six o'clock I went to Gravesend, and
from thence by coach to Dover, where, upon my arrival, the searchers
came and demanded my pass, which they were to keep for their
discharge. When they had read it, they said, 'Madam, you may go when
you please;' but says one, 'I little thought they would give a pass to
so great a malignant, especially in so troublesome a time as this.'
About nine o'clock at night I went on board the packet-boat, and about
eight o'clock in the morning landed safe, God be praised! at Calais. I
went to Mr. Booth's, an English merchant, and a very honest man. There
I rested two days; but upon the next day he had advice from Dover,
that a post was sent to stay me from London, because they had sent for
me to my lodgings by a messenger of the Court, to know why, and upon
what business, I went to France. Then I discovered to him my invention
of the changing my name, at which as at their disappointment we all
laughed, and so did your father, and as many as knew the deceit. We
hired a waggon-coach, for there is no other at Calais, and began our
journey about the beginning of June 1659.
Coming one night to Abbeville, the Governor sent his Lieutenant to me,
to let me know my husband was well the week before, that he had seen
him at Paris, and had promised him to take care of me in my going
through his government, there being much robbery daily committing;
that he would advise me take care of the garrison soldiers, and giving
them a pistole a piece, they would convey me very safely. This, he
said, the Governor would have told me himself, but that he was in bed
with the gout; I thanked him, and accepted his proffer. The next
morning he sent me ten troopers well armed, and when I had gone about
four leagues, as we ascended a hill, says some of these, 'Madam, look
out, but fear nothing.' They rid all up to a well-mounted troop of
horse, about fifty or more, which, after some parley, wheeled about
into the woods again. When we came upon the hill, I asked how it was
possible so many men so well armed should turn, having so few to
oppose them; at which they laughed, and said, 'Madam, we are all of a
company, and quarter in this town. The truth is, our pay is short, and
we are forced to keep ourselves this way; but we have this rule, that
if we in a party guard any company, the rest never molest them, but
let them pass free.'
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