_Stanton Court, May 12, 1590._
IT was but the other day that in looking over my papers and books (for
I am an old woman, and must needs be thinking of setting my house in
such order as I would leave it), I came upon this volume, containing
the record of my girlish days. I have had much pleasure in perusing it,
and thus going back to the days of my childhood and youth.
I have lived to see great changes. In this land, where I was once
so near to being a nun, there lingers hardly one religious house,
so-called. The Scripture, then a hid treasure, is now in reach of all,
taught even in dame schools, and read in all the churches, and we have
peace at home and abroad, sitting every man under his own vine and
fig-tree, with none to make us afraid.
The Spanish Armada, which did so threaten us last year, is dispersed
like a summer cloud, albeit the dispersion thereof did cost me a dear
nephew, and I may say my last daughter also, for I have little hope
that my dearest Mary will long survive her husband, my brother's second
son, who died of his wounds at Plymouth after the victory. But she
cannot, in course of nature, long precede her father and mother. My
husband is yet strong and hearty for one of his age, and I myself am as
vigorous as a woman of my years can expect to be.
My eldest granddaughter, an orphan, and some time a care from her
delicacy, is grown a fine woman, and betrothed to her cousin Corbet, my
great nephew and her second cousin. 'Twas not altogether with my will,
I confess. There have been too many mixtures of the blood already, yet
they have loved each other almost from childhood, as did Richard and
myself, and I cannot reasonably oppose the match. 'Tis for her, always
near and dear as a daughter, that I have taken on me to arrange these
memorials, and for her sake I add a few words.
My father and his second wife lived to see Richard Earl of Stanton, my
Lord having died unmarried not long after the death of his Lady and her
child, which chanced close together. My mother survived her husband for
many years, living most happily with her step-son and his wife Joyce,
whom she had brought up under her own eye.
On the suppression of the convents, which took place under my Lord
Cromwell, my husband had a grant from the king of the lands of our
priory here, not however without paying a round sum for the same.
He also bought the house and lands belonging to my old convent, and
bestowed them in endowing a boys' and a girls' school in our village,
and in rebuilding certain almshouses which have existed here from very
early times.
Most of our Sisters had homes to which they returned. Sister Catherine
was one of the first and loudest to be convinced of the error of her
ways, and related more scandals than I care to record concerning our
manner of life. But she was ever a hypocrite in grain, seeking naught
but her own advancement. Our Mother was at last left almost alone,
with nobody but Sister Placida, and one young maid, an orphan. Sister
Placida chose to go abroad, to a convent of our order in France, and we
supplied her the means to do so. Our Mother would fain have done the
same, but we persuaded her to try abiding with us for a year, and she
found herself so well content that she remained the rest of her life,
save for some few years, during the unhappy reign of Queen Mary, when
she betook herself to a convent in London, but returned to us again
when the house was broken up. She was not fond of talking about it, and
I don't think she found the return to her old life either as pleasant
or as edifying as she expected. She lived to a great age, and though
she never in words renounced her old faith, yet during her later years
she attended our family devotions, and spent much time in the study of
the Scriptures.
I never saw and one more amazed than she was when I told her the secret
of the fire which destroyed the shrine of St. Ethelburga, for, as I
believed at the time, she had no knowledge of the plot which had so
nearly destroyed me. She was absent, even as the priest told me, at a
chapter in Exeter, and they thought to complete their work and remove
all its traces before her return. Nay, I have always believed that but
for their signal and most unexpected discomfiture, she herself might
have been the next victim, for she had more than one bitter enemy
in the house, specially in Sister Catherine, who never forgave her
humiliation, and who afterward bruited some shameful scandals about
dear Mother and the rest of the family.
As I always suspected, 'twas Prudence who was the first cause of mine
arrest, she giving information to Father Barnaby concerning what she
called mine apostasy. She travelled the land afterwards as a pilgrim,
visiting various holy places, and trafficking in relics, till at last
Richard and I being on a journey, found her set in the stocks as a
vagrant, and in evil case enow. We procured her release, and took
her to a place of shelter, where she died, as I trust, penitent. She
confessed to her treachery, and told me of many instances, wherein she
had abused my dear mother's ear with false tales. And yet she persisted
to the last, and as I believe truly, that she acted as she did out of
love to my soul, and as she said, to give me a last chance.
As I have said, my husband bought the church lands about here, and
likewise the site of our old convent, which last he gave for the
endowment of our boys' and girls' schools in this village. *
No doubt there was much injustice and greed in the way the convents
and religious foundations were put down, and good and bad were often
involved in one common ruin. Yet I do believe the suppression of the
convents wrought good in the end. Such a life as theirs is utterly
without warrant in Scripture or reason. 'Tis clean against nature too,
and it could not be but that great disorders should grow out of it.
The very almsgiving, whereof so much was made, did foster a swarm of
beggars and idlers, and since, in the nature of things, but little
discretion could be used by those who never saw the folk at their own
homes, the most impudent and worthless fared the best. I believe our
house was better than the general run. There was no open scandal in my
time, at least, and all were kindly treated; yet I would sooner see a
daughter of mine in her coffin than doomed to such a living death.
* They are called Lady Rosamond's schools to this day. I would all
convent lands had been as well bestowed.—D. C.
I leave this book to my eldest daughter, Amy Rosamond Champernoun,
daughter of Sir David Champernoun, and my second daughter Rosamond,
and betrothed bride of my great nephew Henry Corbet, captain of her
Majesty's ship the Grayhound. I beseech her to transmit the same to her
eldest daughter, or failing that, to the female descendant of our line
whom she may judge most fit to have the same.
_ROSAMOND STANTON._
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