MEMOIRS OF LADY FANSHAWE

I have thought it good to discourse to you, my most dear and only son,

the most remarkable actions and accidents of your family, as well as

those more eminent ones of your father; and my life and necessity, not

delight or revenge, hath made me insert some passages which will

reflect on their owners, as the praises of others will be but just,

which is my intent in this narrative. I would not have you be a

stranger to it; because, by the example, you may imitate what is

applicable to your condition in the world, and endeavour to avoid

those misfortunes we have passed through, if God pleases.

Endeavour to be innocent as a dove, but as wise as a serpent; and let

this lesson direct you most in the greatest extremes of fortune. Hate

idleness, and curb all passions; be true in all words and actions;

unnecessarily deliver not your opinion; but when you do, let it be

just, well-considered, and plain. Be charitable in all thought, word

and deed, and ever ready to forgive injuries done to yourself, and be

more pleased to do good than to receive good.

Be civil and obliging to all, dutiful where God and nature command

you; but friend to one, and that friendship keep sacred, as the

greatest tie upon earth, and be sure to ground it upon virtue; for no

other is either happy or lasting.

Endeavour always to be content in that estate of life which it hath

pleased God to call you to, and think it a great fault not to employ

your time, either for the good of your soul, or improvement of your

understanding, health, or estate; and as these are the most pleasant

pastimes, so it will make you a cheerful old age, which is as

necessary for you to design, as to make provision to support the

infirmities which decay of strength brings: and it was never seen that

a vicious youth terminated in a contented, cheerful old age, but

perished out of countenance. Ever keep the best qualified persons

company, out of whom you will find advantage, and reserve some hours

daily to examine yourself and fortune; for if you embark yourself in

perpetual conversation or recreation, you will certainly shipwreck

your mind and fortune. Remember the proverb--such as his company is,

such is the man, and have glorious actions before your eyes, and think

what shall be your portion in Heaven, as well as what you desire on

earth.

Manage your fortune prudently, and forget not that you must give God

an account hereafter, and upon all occasions.

Remember your father, whose true image, though I can never draw to the

life, unless God will grant me that blessing in you; yet, because you

were but ten months and ten days old when God took him out of this

world, I will, for your advantage, show you him with all truth, and

without partiality.

He was of the highest size of men, strong, and of the best proportion;

his complexion sanguine, his skin exceedingly fair, his hair dark

brown and very curling, but not very long; his eyes grey and

penetrating, his nose high, his countenance gracious and wise, his

motion good, his speech clear and distinct. He never used exercise but

walking, and that generally with some book in his hand, which

oftentimes was poetry, in which he spent his idle hours; sometimes he

would ride out to take the air, but his most delight was, to go only

with me in a coach some miles, and there discourse of those things

which then most pleased him, of what nature soever.

He was very obliging to all, and forward to serve his master, his

country, and friend; cheerful in his conversation; his discourse ever

pleasant, mixed with the sayings of wise men, and their histories

repeated as occasion offered, yet so reserved that he never showed the

thought of his heart, in its greatest sense, but to myself only; and

this I thank God with all my soul for, that he never discovered his

trouble to me, but went from me with perfect cheerfulness and content;

nor revealed he his joys and hopes but would say, that they were

doubled by putting them in my breast. I never heard him hold a

disputation in my life, but often he would speak against it, saying it

was an uncharitable custom, which never turned to the advantage of

either party. He would never be drawn to the fashion of any party,

saying he found it sufficient honestly to perform that employment he

was in: he loved and used cheerfulness in all his actions, and

professed his religion in his life and conversation. He was a true

Protestant of the Church of England, so born, so brought up, and so

died; his conversation was so honest that I never heard him speak a

word in my life that tended to God's dishonour, or encouragement of

any kind of debauchery or sin. He was ever much esteemed by his two

masters, Charles the First and Charles the Second, both for great

parts and honesty, as for his conversation, in which they took great

delight, he being so free from passion, that made him beloved of all

that knew him, nor did I ever see him moved but with his master's

concerns, in which he would hotly pursue his interest through the

greatest difficulties.

He was the tenderest father imaginable, the carefullest and most

generous master I ever knew; he loved hospitality, and would often

say, it was wholly essential for the constitution of England: he loved

and kept order with the greatest decency possible; and though he would

say I managed his domestics wholly, yet I ever governed them and

myself by his commands; in the managing of which, I thank God, I found

his approbation and content.

Now you will expect that I should say something that may remain of us

jointly, which I will do though it makes my eyes gush out with tears,

and cuts me to the soul to remember, and in part express the joys I

was blessed with in him. Glory be to God, we never had but one mind

throughout our lives. Our souls were wrapped up in each other's; our

aims and designs one, our loves one, and our resentments one. We so

studied one the other, that we knew each other's mind by our looks.

Whatever was real happiness, God gave it me in him; but to commend my

better half, which I want sufficient expression for, methinks is to

commend myself, and so may bear a censure; but, might it be permitted,

I could dwell eternally on his praise most justly; but thus without

offence I do, and so you may imitate him in his patience, his

prudence, his chastity, his charity, his generosity, his perfect

resignation to God's will, and praise God for him as long as you live

here, and with him hereafter in the Kingdom of Heaven. Amen.

Your father was born in Ware Park, in the month of June, in the year

of our Lord 1608, and was the tenth child of Sir Henry Fanshawe, whose

father bought Ten, in Essex, and Ware Park, in Hertfordshire. This,

your great-grandfather, came out of Derbyshire from a small estate,

Fanshawe-Gate, being the principal part that then this family had,

which exceeded not above two hundred pounds a year, and about so much

more they had in the town and parish of Dronfield, within two miles of

Fanshawe-Gate, where the family had been some hundreds of years, as

appears by the church of Dronfield, in the chancel of which church I

have seen several grave-stones with the names of that family, many of

them very ancient; and the chancel, which is very old, was and is kept

wholly for a burying-place for that family.

There is in the town a free school, with a very good house and noble

endowment, founded by your great-grandfather, who was sent for to

London in Henry the Eighth's time, by an uncle of his, and of his own

name, to be brought up a clerk under his uncle Thomas Fanshawe, who

procured your great-grandfather's life to be put with his in the

patent of Remembrancers of his Majesty's Exchequer, which place he

enjoyed after the death of his uncle, he having left no male issue,

only two daughters, who had both great fortunes in land and money, and

married into the best families in Essex in that time. This was the

rise of your great-grandfather, who, with his office and his

Derbyshire estate, raised the family to what it hath been and now is.

He had one only brother, Robert Fanshawe, who had a good estate in

Derbyshire, and lived in Fanshawe-Gate, which he hired of his eldest

brother, your great-grandfather.

In this house my mother was born, Margaret, the eldest daughter of

Robert, your great-great-uncle: he married one of the daughters of

Rowland Eyes, of Bradway, in the same county of Derby, by whom he had

twelve sons and two daughters: that family remains in Dronfield to

this day.

Your great-grandfather married Alice Bourchier, of the last Earl of

Bath's family,[Footnote: This was not the fact. She was the daughter

of Anthony Bourchier, Esq., of the County of Gloucester, a family in

no way connected with the noble house of Bath.] by whom he had only

one son that lived, Henry, which was your grandfather; afterwards,

when he had been two years a widower, he married one of the daughters

of Customer Smythe, who had six sons and six daughters: his sons were

Sir John Smythe, Sir Thomas Smythe, Sir Richard Smythe, Sir Robert

Smythe, Mr. William Smythe, and Mr. Edward Smythe, who died young: two

were knighted by Queen Elizabeth, and two by King James; the eldest

was grandfather of the now Lord Strangford; the second had been

several times ambassador, and all married into good families, and left

great estates to their posterity, which remain to this day. The

daughters were Mrs. Fanshawe, your great-grandmother-in-law; the

second married Sir John Scott, of Kent; the third married Sir John

Davies, of the same county; the fourth married Sir Robert Poynz, of

Leicestershire; the fifth married Thomas Butler, of Herald, Esq.; and

the sixth married Sir Henry Fanshawe, your grandfather: these all left

a numerous posterity but Davies, and this day they are matched into

very considerable families. [Footnote: Lady Fanshawe is not quite

correct in her account of the Smythe family, and the statements in

Peerages are equally erroneous. Thomas Smythe, Esq. of Ostenhanger, in

Kent, Farmer of the Customs to Philip and Mary, and to Queen

Elizabeth, was the second son of John Smythe, Esq., (whose ancestors

were seated at Corsham, in Wiltshire, as early as the 15th century,)

by Joan, daughter of Robert Brounker, ancestor of the celebrated

Viscount Brounker. Customer Smythe died in 1591, and had by Alice,

daughter and heiress of Sir Andrew Judde, Lord Mayor of London, and

one of the representatives of Archbishop Chicheley, seven sons and six

daughters, 1. Andrew, who died young. 2. Sir John, of Ostenhanger,

father of Sir Thomas Smythe, K.B., who married Lady Barbara Sydney,

daughter of Robert first Earl of Leicester, K.G., was created Viscount

Strangford, in Ireland, in 1628, and was the ancestor of Percy Clinton

Sydney Smythe, sixth and present Viscount Strangford and first Baron

Penshurst, G.C.B. 3. Henry Smythe, of Corsham. 4. Sir Thomas Smythe,

of Bidborough, in the county of Kent, ambassador to Russia in 1604,

whose male descendants became extinct on the death of Sir Stafford

Sydney Smythe, Chief Baron of the Exchequer, in 1778. 5. Sir Richard

Smythe, of Leeds Castle, in Kent, whose son, Sir John, dying

issueless, in 1632, his sisters became his co-heiresses. 6. Robert

Smythe, of Highgate, who left issue. 7. Symon Smythe, killed at the

siege of Cadiz in 1597. Of the daughters of Customer Smythe, Mary

married Robert Davye, of London, Esq.; Ursula married, first, Simon

Harding, of London, Esq., and secondly William Butler, of Bidenham, in

Bedfordshire, Esq.; Johanna was the wife of Thomas Fanshawe, of Ware

Park, Herts, Esq.; Katherine was first the wife of Sir Rowland

Hayward, Lord Mayor of London, and secondly of Sir John Scott, of

Scott's Hall, in Kent; Alice married Edward Harris, of Woodham, in

Essex, Esq.; and Elizabeth, the sixth and youngest daughter, was the

wife of Sir Henry Fanshawe, Remembrancer of the Exchequer, father of

Sir Richard Fanshawe, the ambassador. Sir ROBERT Poyntz, of

Leicestershire, is a mistake of Lady Fanshawe's for Sir JAMES Poyntz,

of North Oxenden, in Essex, who married Mary, the sister and co-

heiress of Sir John Smythe, son of Sir Richard, of Bidborough, before

mentioned, and GRANDDAUGHTER of the Customer.]

Your great-grandfather had by his second wife, Sir Thomas Fanshawe,

Clerk of the Crown, and Surveyor-General of King James; to him he gave

his manor of Jenkins, in Essex, valued at near two thousand a year.

His second son by the same wife, William, he procured to be Auditor of

the Duchy, whose posterity hath in Essex, at Parslowes, about seven or

eight hundred pounds a year. His eldest daughter married Sir

Christopher Hatton, heir to the Lord Chancellor Hatton; his second

married Sir Benjamin Ayloffe, of Brackstead, in Essex; the third

married Mr. Bullock Harding, in Derbyshire; all men of very great

estates. As your grandfather inherited Ware Park and his office, the

flower of his father's estate, so did he of his wisdom and parts; and

both were happy in the favour of the princes of that time, for Queen

Elizabeth said that your grandfather was the best officer of accounts

she had, and a person of great integrity; and your grandfather was the

favourite of Prince Henry, and had the Prince lived to be King, had

been Secretary of State, as he would often tell him. Mr. Camden speaks

much in praise, as you may see, of Sir Henry Fanshawe's garden of Ware

Park, none excelling it in flowers, physic herbs, and fruit, in which

things he did greatly delight; also he was a great lover of music, and

kept many gentlemen that were perfectly well qualified both in that

and the Italian tongue, in which he spent some time. He likewise kept

several horses of manege, and rid them himself, which he delighted in,

and the Prince would say none did it better; he had great honour and

generosity in his nature, and to show you a little part of which I

will tell you this of him. He had a horse that the then Earl of Exeter

was much pleased with, and Sir Henry esteemed, because he deserved it.

My Lord, after some apology, desired Sir Henry to let him have his

horse and he would give him what he would; he replied, "My Lord, I

have no thoughts of selling him but to serve you; I bought him of such

a person, and gave so much for him, and that shall be my price to you

as I paid, being sixty pieces"; my Lord Exeter said, "That's too much,

but I will give you, Sir Henry, fifty," to which he made no answer;

next day my Lord sent a gentleman with sixty pieces, Sir Henry made

answer, "That was the price he paid and once had offered him, my Lord,

at, but not being accepted, his price now was eighty"; at the

receiving of this answer my Lord Exeter stormed, and sent his servant

back with seventy pieces. Sir Henry said, that "since my Lord would

not like him at eighty pieces, he would not sell him under a hundred

pieces, and if he returned with less he would not sell him at all";

upon which my Lord Exeter sent one hundred pieces, and had the horse.

His retinue was great, and that made him stretch his estate, which was

near if not full four thousand pounds a year; yet when he died, he

left no debt upon his estate. He departed this life at the age of

forty-eight years, and lies buried in the chancel, in a vault with his

father in the parish church of Ware; he was as handsome and as fine a

gentleman as England then had, a most excellent husband, father,

friend, and servant to his Prince. He left in the care of my lady his

widow, five sons and five daughters. His eldest son succeeded him in

his lands and office, and after the restoration of the King, he was

made Lord Viscount of Dromore in Ireland; he did engage his person and

estate for the crown, and fought in the battle of Edgehill, and this

ruined his estate, and was the cause of his sons selling Ware Park;

afterwards he tried, by the King's assistance, to be reimbursed, but

could not prevail. He was a very worthy, valiant, honest, good-natured

gentleman, charitable, and generous, and had excellent natural parts,

yet choleric and rash, which was only incommode to his own family: he

was a very pretty man, for he was but low, of a sanguine complexion,

much a gentleman in his mien and language; he was sixty-nine years of

age when he died, and is buried with his ancestors in Ware Church.

He married first the daughter of Sir Giles Allington, by whom he hath

a daughter called Anne, who remains a maid to this day; his second

wife was Elizabeth, daughter to Sir William Cockain, Lord Mayor of

London. She was a very good wife, but not else qualified extraordinary

in any thing. She brought him many children, whereof now remain three

sons and five daughters.

Thomas, Lord Viscount Fanshawe, his eldest son, died in May 1674; he

was a handsome gentleman, of an excellent understanding, and great

honour and honesty. He married the daughter and sole heir of Knitton

Ferrers, of Bedford-bury, in the county of Hertford, Esq., by whom he

had no child. After his father's death he married the daughter of Sir

John Evelyn, widow to Sir John Wrey, of Lincolnshire; by this wife he

had several children, of which only two survived him, Thomas, now Lord

Viscount Fanshawe, and Katherine. His widow is lately married unto my

Lord Castleton, of Senbeck, in Yorkshire. He lies buried with his

ancestors in the Parish Church of Ware. Your uncle Henry, that was the

second, was killed in fighting gallantly in the Low Countries with the

English colours in his hand. He was very handsome and a very brave

man, beloved and lamented by all who knew him. The third died a

bachelor; I knew him not. The fourth is Sir Simon Fanshawe, a gallant

gentleman, but more a libertine than any of his family; he married a

very fine and good woman, and of a great estate; she was daughter and

coheir to Sir William Walter, and widow to Knitton Ferrers, son to Sir

John Ferrers, of Hertfordshire.

Your father, Sir Richard Fanshawe, Knight and Baronet, one of the

Masters of the Requests, Secretary of the Latin Tongue, Burgess for

the University of Cambridge, and one of his Majesty's most honourable

Privy Council of England and Ireland, and his Majesty's Ambassador to

Portugal and Spain, was the fifth and youngest son. He married me, the

eldest daughter of Sir John Harrison, Knight, of Balls, in the county

of Hertford; he was married at thirty-five years of age, and lived

with me twenty-three years and twenty-nine days; he lies buried in a

new vault I purchased of Humphry, Lord Bishop of London, in St. Mary's

Chapel in the Church of Ware, near his ancestors, over which I built

him a monument.

My dear husband had six sons and eight daughters, born and christened,

and I miscarried of six more, three at several times, and once of

three sons when I was about half gone my time. Harrison, my eldest

son, and Henry, my second son; Richard, my third; Henry, my fourth;

and Richard, my fifth, are all dead; my second lies buried in the

Protestant Church-yard in Paris, by the father of the Earl of Bristol;

my eldest daughter Anne lies buried in the Parish Church of

Tankersley, in Yorkshire, where she died; Elizabeth lies in the Chapel

of the French Hospital at Madrid, where she died of a fever at ten

days old; my next daughter of her name lies buried in the Parish of

Foot's Cray, in Kent, near Frog-Pool, my brother Warwick's house,

where she died; and my daughter Mary lies in my father's vault in

Hertford, with my first son Henry; my eldest lies buried in the Parish

Church of St. John's College in Oxford, where he was born; my second

Henry lies in Bengy Church, in Hertfordshire; and my second Richard in

the Esperanza in Lisbon in Portugal, he being born ten weeks before my

time when I was in that Court. I praise God I have living yourself and

four sisters, Katherine unmarried, Margaret married to Vincent

Grantham, Esq., of Goltho, in the county of Lincoln, Anne, and

Elizabeth.

Now I have shown you the most part of your family by the male line,

except Sir Thomas Fanshawe, of Jenkins, who has but one child, and

that a daughter, and two brothers, both unmarried. Their father as

well as themselves was a worthy honest gentleman and a great sufferer

for the Crown, wholly engaging his estate for the maintenance thereof;

and so is my cousin John Fanshawe, of Parslowes, in Essex, who hath

but two sons, one unmarried by his first wife, who was the daughter of

Sir William Kingsmill; and the other is a child whom he had by his

last wife, the daughter of my cousin, Thomas Fanshawe, of Jenkins.

I confess I owe Sir Thomas Fanshawe as good a character as I can

express, for he fully deserves it, both for his true honours, and most

excellent acquired and natural parts; and that which is of me most

esteemed, he was your father's intimate friend as well as near

kinsman; and during the time of the war he was very kind to us, by

assisting us in our wants, which were as great as his supports; which,

though, I thank God, I have fully repaid, yet must ever remain obliged

for his kindness and the esteem he hath for us.

He married the daughter and heir of Sir Edward Heath, a pretty lady

and a good woman; but I must here with thankfulness acknowledge God's

bounty to your family, who hath bestowed most excellent wives on most

of them, both in person and fortune; but with respect to the rest, I

must give with all reverence justly your grandmother the first and

best place, who being left a widow at thirty-nine years of age,

handsome, with a full fortune, all her children provided for, kept

herself a widow, and out of her jointure and revenue purchased six

hundred pounds a year for the younger children of her eldest son;

besides, she added five hundred pounds a piece to the portions of her

younger children, having nine, whereof but one daughter was married

before the death of Sir Henry Fanshawe, and she was the second, her

name was Mary, married to William Neuce, Esq., of Hadham, in

Hertfordshire; the eldest daughter married Sir Capell Bedells, of

Hammerton, in Huntingdonshire; the third never married; the fourth

married Sir William Boteler, of Teston, in Kent; the fifth died young.

Thus you have been made acquainted with most of your nearest relations

by your father, except your cousins german, which are the three sons

of your uncle, Lord Fanshawe, and William Neuce, Esq., and his two

brothers, and Sir Oliver Boteler, and my Lady Campbell, three maiden

sisters of hers, and my Lady Levingthorpe, of Blackware, in

Hertfordshire. There was more, but they are dead; and so are the most

part of them I have named, but their memories will remain as long as

their names, for honest, worthy, virtuous men and women, who served

God in their generations in their several capacities, and without

vanity none exceeded them in their loyalty, which cost them dear, for

there were as many fathers, sons, uncles, nephews, and cousins german,

and those that matched to them, engaged and sequestered for the Crown

in the time of the late rebellion as their revenue made nearly eighty

thousand pounds a year, and this I have often seen a list of and know

it to be true.

The use of which to you is, that you should not omit your duty to your

king and country, nor be less in your industry to exceed at least, not

shame, the excellent memory of your ancestors. They were all eminent

officers; and that, I believe, keeping them ever employed, made them

so good men. I hope in God the like parallel will be in you, which I

heartily and daily pray for.

I was born in St. Olave's, Hart-street, London, in a house that my

father took of the Lord Dingwall, father to the now Duchess of Ormond,

in the year 1625, on our Lady Day, 25th of March. Mr. Hyde, Lady

Alston, and Lady Wolstenholme, were my godfather and godmothers. In

that house I lived the winter times till I was fifteen years old and

three months, with my ever honoured and most dear mother, who departed

this life on the 20th day of July, 1640, and now lies buried in

Allhallow's Church, in Hertford. Her funeral cost my father above a

thousand pounds; and Dr. Howlsworth preached her funeral sermon, in

which, upon his own knowledge, he told before many hundreds of people

this accident following: that my mother, being sick to death of a

fever three months after I was born, which was the occasion she gave

me suck no longer, her friends and servants thought to all outward

appearance that she was dead, and so lay almost two days and a night,

but Dr. Winston coming to comfort my father, went into my mother's

room, and looking earnestly on her face, said "she was so handsome,

and now looks so lovely, I cannot think she is dead"; and suddenly

took a lancet out of his pocket and with it cut the sole of her foot,

which bled. Upon this, he immediately caused her to be laid upon the

bed again and to be rubbed, and such means as she came to life, and

opening her eyes, saw two of her kinswomen stand by her, my Lady

Knollys and my Lady Russell, both with great wide sleeves, as the

fashion then was, and said, Did not you promise me fifteen years, and

are you come again? which they not understanding, persuaded her to

keep her spirits quiet in that great weakness wherein she then was;

but some hours after she desired my father and Dr. Howlsworth might be

left alone with her, to whom she said, "I will acquaint you, that

during the time of my trance I was in great quiet, but in a place I

could neither distinguish nor describe; but the sense of leaving my

girl, who is dearer to me than all my children, remained a trouble

upon my spirits. Suddenly I saw two by me, clothed in long white

garments, and methought I fell down with my face in the dust; and they

asked why I was troubled in so great happiness. I replied, O let me

have the same grant given to Hezekiah, that I may live fifteen years,

to see my daughter a woman: to which they answered, It is done; and

then, at that instant, I awoke out of my trance;" and Dr. Howlsworth

did there affirm, that that day she died made just fifteen years from

that time. My dear mother was of excellent beauty and good

understanding, a loving wife, and most tender mother; very pious, and

charitable to that degree, that she relieved, besides the offals of

the table, which she constantly gave to the poor, many with her own

hand daily out of her purse, and dressed many wounds of miserable

people, when she had health, and when that failed, as it did often,

she caused her servants to supply that place.

She left behind her three sons, all much older than myself. The

eldest, John, married three wives: by his last, who was the daughter

of Mr. Ludlow, a very ancient and noble family, he left two daughters,

who are both unmarried. My second brother, William, died at Oxford

with a bruise on his side, caused by the fall of his horse, which was

shot under him, as he went out with a party of horse against a party

of the Earl of Essex, in 1643. He was a very good and gallant young

man; and they are the very words the king said of him, when he was

told of his death: he was much lamented by all who knew him. The

third, Abraham, hath left no issue; I was the fourth, and my sister

Margaret, the fifth, who married Sir Edmund Turner, of South Stock, in

Lincolnshire, a worthy pious man.

My father, in his old age, married again, the daughter of Mr.

Shatbolt, of Hertfordshire, and had by her a son, Richard, and a

daughter, Mary. The son married the eldest daughter of the now Lord

Grandison, and the daughter married the eldest son of Sir Rowland

Lytton, of Knebworth, in Hertfordshire. My father lived to see them

both married; and enjoyed a firm health, until above eighty years of

age. He was a handsome gentleman of great natural parts, a great

accomptant, vast memory, an incomparable penman, of great integrity

and service to his prince; had been a member of several Parliaments; a

good husband and father, especially to me, who never can sufficiently

praise God for him, nor acknowledge his most tender affection and

bounty to me and mine; but as in duty bound, I will for ever say, none

had ever a kinder and better father than myself. He died on the 28th

day of September, 1670; and lies buried by my mother in his own vault

in Allhallows Church, in Hertford.

My father was born at Bemond, in Lancashire; the twelfth son of his

father, whose mother was the daughter of Mr. Hippom, cousin german to

the old Countess of Rivers. I have little knowledge of my father's

relations more than the families of Aston, Irland, Sandis, Bemond, and

Curwen, who brought him to London and placed him with my Lord

Treasurer Salisbury, then Secretary of State, who sent him into Sir

John Wolstenholm's family, and gave him a small place in the Custom-

house, to enable him for the employment. He, being of good parts and

great capacity, in some time raised himself, by God's help, to get a

very great estate, for I have often heard him say that, besides his

education, he never had but twenty marks, which his father gave him

when he came to London, and that was all he ever had for a portion. He

made it appear with great truth that, during the time of the war, he

lost by the rebels above one hundred and thirty thousand pounds, and

yet he left his son sixteen hundred pounds a year in land, and gave

his daughter above twenty thousand pounds.

Now it is necessary to say something of my mother's education of me,

which was with all the advantages that time afforded, both for working

all sorts of fine works with my needle, and learning French, singing,

lute, the virginals and dancing, and notwithstanding I learned as well

as most did, yet was I wild to that degree, that the hours of my

beloved recreation took up too much of my time, for I loved riding in

the first place, running, and all active pastimes; in short, I was

that which we graver people call a hoyting girl; but to be just to

myself, I never did mischief to myself or people, nor one immodest

word or action in my life, though skipping and activity was my

delight, but upon my mother's death, I then began to reflect, and, as

an offering to her memory, I flung away those childnesses that had

formerly possessed me, and, by my father's command, took upon me

charge of his house and family, which I so ordered by my excellent

mother's example as found acceptance in his sight. I was very well

beloved by all our relations and my mother's friends, whom I paid a

great respect to, and I ever was ambitious to keep the best company,

which I have done, I thank God, all the days of my life. My father and

mother were both great lovers and honourers of clergymen, but all of

Cambridge, and chiefly Doctor Bamberge, Doctor Howlsworth,

Broanbricke, Walley, and Mickelthite, and Sanderson, with many others.

We lived in great plenty and hospitality, but no lavishness in the

least, nor prodigality, and, I believe, my father never drank six

glasses of wine in his life in one day.

About 1641, my brother, William Harrison, was chosen Burgess of ----,

and sat in the Commons' House of Parliament, but not long, for when

the King set up his standard he went with him to Nottingham; yet he,

during his sitting, undertook that my father should lend one hundred

and fifty thousand pounds to pay the Scots who had then entered

England, and, as it seems, were to be both paid and prayed to go home,

but afterwards their plague infected the whole nation, as to all our

sorrows we know, and that debt of my father's remained to him until

the restoration of the King. In 1642 my father was taken prisoner at

his house, called Montague House, in Bishopgate Street, and threatened

to be sent on board a ship with many more of his quality, and then

they plundered his house, but he getting loose, under pretence to

fetch some writings they demanded in his hands concerning the public

revenue, he went to Oxford in 1643, and thereupon the Long Parliament,

of which he was a member for the town of Lancaster, plundered him out

of what remained, and sequestered his whole estate, which continued

out of his possession until the happy restoration of the King.

My father commanded my sister and myself to come to him to Oxford

where the Court then was, but we, that had till that hour lived in

great plenty and great order, found ourselves like fishes out of the

water, and the scene was so changed, that we knew not at all how to

act any part but obedience, for, from as good a house as any gentleman

of England had, we came to a baker's house in an obscure street, and

from rooms well furnished, to lie in a very bad bed in a garret, to

one dish of meat, and that not the best ordered, no money, for we were

as poor as Job, nor clothes more than a man or two brought in their

cloak bags: we had the perpetual discourse of losing and gaining towns

and men; at the windows the sad spectacle of war, sometimes plague,

sometimes sicknesses of other kind, by reason of so many people being

packed together, as, I believe, there never was before of that

quality; always in want, yet I must needs say that most bore it with a

martyr-like cheerfulness. For my own part, I began to think we should

all, like Abraham, live in tents all the days of our lives. The King

sent my father a warrant for a baronet, but he returned it with

thanks, saying he had too much honour of his knighthood which his

Majesty had honoured him with some years before, for the fortune he

now possessed: but as in a rock the turbulence of the waves disperses

the splinters of the rock, so it was my lot, for having buried my dear

brother, William Harrison, in Exeter College Chapel, I then married

your dear father in 1644 in Wolvercot Church, two miles from Oxford,

upon the 18th day of May. None was at our wedding but my dear father,

who, at my mother's desire, gave me her wedding-ring, with which I was

married, and my sister Margaret, and my brother and sister Boteler,

Sir Edward Hyde, afterwards Lord Chancellor, and Sir Geoffry Palmer,

the King's Attorney. Before I was married, my husband was sworn

Secretary of War to the Prince, now our King, with a promise from

Charles I. to be preferred as soon as occasion offered it, but both

his fortune and my promised portion, which was made 10,000 pounds,

were both at that time in expectation, and we might truly be called

merchant adventurers, for the stock we set up our trading with did not

amount to twenty pounds betwixt us; but, however, it was to us as a

little piece of armour is against a bullet, which if it be right

placed, though no bigger than a shilling, serves as well as a whole

suit of armour; so our stock bought pen, ink and paper, which was your

father's trade, and by it, I assure you, we lived better than those

that were born to 2OOO pounds a year as long as he had his liberty.

Here stay till I have told you your father's life until I married him.

He was but seven years old when his father died, and his mother, my

Lady, designed him for the law, having bred him first with that famous

schoolmaster Mr. Farnaby, and then under the tuition of Dr. Beale, in

Jesus College in Cambridge, from whence, being a most excellent

Latinist, he was admitted into the Inner Temple; but it seemed so

crabbed a study, and disagreeable to his inclinations, that he rather

studied to obey his mother than to make any progress in the law. Upon

the death of his mother, whom he dearly loved and honoured, he went

into France to Paris, where he had three cousins german, Lord

Strangford, Sir John Baker of Kent, and my cousin Thornhill. The whole

stock he carried with him was eighty pieces of gold, and French silver

to the value of five pounds in his pocket; his gold was quilted in his

doublet; he went by post to lodgings in the Fauxbourg St. Germain,

with an intent to rest that night, and the next day to find out his

kindred; but the devil, that never sleeps, so ordered it, that two

friars entered the chamber wherein he was, and welcoming him, being

his countrymen, invited him to play, he innocently only intending

diversion, till his supper was ready; but that was not their design,

for having engaged him, they left him not as long as he was worth a

groat, which when they discovered, they gave him five pieces of his

money until he could recruit himself by his friends, which he did the

next day: and from that time forward never played for a piece. It came

to pass, that seven years after, my husband being in Huntingdonshire,

at a bowling-green, with Sir Capel Bedells, and many other persons of

quality, one in the company was called Captain Taller. My husband, who

had a very quick and piercing eye, marked him much, as knowing his

face, and found, through his peruke wig, and scarlet cloak and buff

suit, that his name was neither Captain nor Taller, but the honest

Jesuit called Friar Sherwood, that had cheated him of the greatest

part of his money, and after had lent him the five pieces; so your

father went to him, and gave him his five pieces, and said, 'Father

Sherwood, I know you, and you know this:' at which he was extremely

surprised, and begged of your father not to discover him, for his life

was in danger. After a year's stay in Paris, he travelled to Madrid in

Spain, there to learn that language; at the same time, for that

purpose, went the late Earl of Caernarvon, and my Lord of Bedford, and

Sir John Berkeley, and several other gentlemen. Afterwards, having

spent some years abroad, he returned to London, and gave so good an

account of his travels, that he was about the year 1630 made Secretary

of the Embassy, when my Lord Aston went Ambassador. During your

father's travels, he had spent a considerable part of his stock, which

his father and mother left him: in those days, where there were so

many younger children, it was inconsiderable, being 50 pounds a year,

and 1,500 pounds in money. Upon the return of the ambassador, your

father was left resident until Sir Arthur Hopton went Ambassador, and

then he came home about the year 1637 or 1638; and I must tell you

here of an accident your father had coming out of Spain in this

journey post: he going into a bed for some few hours to refresh

himself, in a village five leagues from Madrid, he slept so soundly,

that notwithstanding the house was on fire, and all the people of the

village there, he never waked; but the honesty of the owners was such,

that they carried him, and set him asleep upon a piece of timber on

the highway; and there he awaked, and found his portmanteau and

clothes by him, without the least loss, which is extraordinary,

considering the profession of his landlord, who had at that time his

house burnt to the ground. After being here a year or two, and no

preferment coming, Secretary Windebank calling him Puritan, being his

enemy, because himself was a Papist, he was, by his elder brother, put

into the place of the King's Remembrancer, absolutely, with this

proviso, that he should be accountable for the use of the income; but

if in seven years he would pay 8,000 pounds for it to his brother,

then it should be his, with the whole revenue of it; but the war

breaking out presently after, put an end to this design; for, being

the King's sworn servant, he went to the King at Oxford, as well as

his fellows, to avoid the fury of this madness of the people, where,

having been almost a year, we married, as I said before; and I will

continue my discourse where we left.

Now we appear on the stage, to act what part God designed us; and as

faith is the evidence of things not seen, so we, upon so righteous a

cause, cheerfully resolved to suffer what that would drive us to,

which afflictions were neither few nor small, as you will find. This

year the Prince had an established Council, which were the Earl of

Berkshire, Earl of Bradford, Lord Capel, Lord Colepeper, Lord Hopton,

and Sir Edward Hyde, Chancellor of the Exchequer. My husband was then,

as I said, newly entered into his office of secretary of the Council

of War, and the King would have had him then to have been sworn his

Highness's Secretary, but the Queen, who was then no friend to my

husband, because he had formerly made Secretary Windebank appear in

his colours, who was one of her Majesty's favourites, wholly

obstructed that then, and placed with the Prince Sir Robert Long, for

whom she had a great kindness; but the consequence will show the man.

The beginning of March 1645, your father went to Bristol with his new

master, and this was his first journey: I then lying-in of my first

son, Harrison Fanshawe, who was born on the 22nd of February, he left

me behind him. As for that, it was the first time we had parted a day

since we married; he was extremely afflicted, even to tears, though

passion was against his nature; but the sense of leaving me with a

dying child, which did die two days after, in a garrison town,

extremely weak, and very poor, were such circumstances as he could not

bear with, only the argument of necessity; and, for my own part, it

cost me so dear, that I was ten weeks before I could go alone; but he,

by all opportunities, wrote to me to fortify myself, and to comfort me

in the company of my father and sister, who were both with me, and

that as soon as the Lords of the Council had their wives come to them

I should come to him, and that I should receive the first money he

got, and hoped it would be suddenly. By the help of God, with these

cordials I recovered my former strength by little and little, nor did

I in my distressed condition lack the conversation of many of my

relations then in Oxford, and kindnesses of very many of the nobility

and gentry, both for goodness sake, and because your father being

there in good employment, they found him serviceable to themselves or

friends, which friendships none better distinguished between his place

and person than your father.

It was in May 1645, the first time I went out of my chamber and to

church, where, after service, Sir William Parkhurst, a very honest

gentleman, came to me, and said he had a letter for me from your

father and fifty pieces of gold, and was coming to bring them to me. I

opened first my letter, and read those inexpressible joys that almost

overcame me, for he told me I should the Thursday following come to

him, and to that purpose he had sent me that money, and would send two

of his men with horses, and all accommodation both for myself, my

father, and sister, and that Lady Capell and Lady Bradford would meet

me on the way; but that gold your father sent me when I was ready to

perish, did not so much revive me as his summons. I went immediately

to walk, or at least to sit in the air, being very weak, in the garden

of St. John's College, and there, with my good father, communicated my

joy, who took great pleasure to hear of my husband's good success and

likewise of his journey to him. We, all of my household being present,

heard drums beat in the highway, under the garden wall. My father

asked me if I would go up upon the mount to see the soldiers march,

for it was Sir Charles Lee's company of foot, an acquaintance of ours;

I said yes, and went up, leaning my back to a tree that grew on the

mount. The commander seeing us there, in compliment gave us a volley

of shot, and one of their muskets being loaded, shot a brace of

bullets not two inches above my head as I leaned to the tree, for

which mercy and deliverance I praise God. And next week we were all on

our journey for Bristol very merry, and thought that now all things

would mend, and the worst of my misfortunes past, but little thought I

to leap into the sea that would toss me until it had racked me; but we

were to ride all night by agreement, for fear of the enemy surprising

us as they passed, they quartering in the way. About nightfall having

travelled about twenty miles, we discovered a troop of horse coming

towards us, which proved to be Sir Marmaduke Rawdon, a worthy

commander and my countryman: he told me, that hearing I was to pass by

his garrison, he was come out to conduct me, he hoped as far as was

danger, which was about twelve miles: with many thanks we parted, and

having refreshed ourselves and horses, we set forth for Bristol, where

we arrived on the 2Oth of May.

My husband had provided very good lodgings for us, and as soon as he

could come home from the Council, where he was at my arrival, he with

all expressions of joy received me in his arms, and gave me a hundred

pieces of gold, saying, "I know thou that keeps my heart so well, will

keep my fortune, which from this time I will ever put into thy hands

as God shall bless me with increase." And now I thought myself a

perfect queen, and my husband so glorious a crown, that I more valued

myself to be called by his name than born a princess, for I knew him

very wise and very good, and his soul doted on me; upon which

confidence I will tell you what happened. My Lady Rivers, a brave

woman, and one that had suffered many thousand pounds loss for the

King, and whom I had a great reverence for, and she a kindness for me

as a kinswoman, in discourse she tacitly commended the knowledge of

state affairs, and that some women were very happy in a good

understanding thereof, as my Lady Aubigny, Lady Isabel Thynne, and

divers others, and yet none was at first more capable than I; that in

the night she knew there came a post from Paris from the Queen, and

that she would be extremely glad to hear what the Queen commanded the

King in order to his affairs; saying, if I would ask my husband

privately, he would tell me what he found in the packet, and I might

tell her. I that was young and innocent, and to that day had never in

my mouth what news, began to think there was more in inquiring into

public affairs than I thought of, and that it being a fashionable

thing would make me more beloved of my husband, if that had been

possible, than I was. When my husband returned home from Council,

after welcoming him, as his custom ever was he went with his handful

of papers into his study for an hour or more; I followed him; he

turned hastily, and said, "What wouldst thou have, my life?" I told

him, I had heard the Prince had received a packet from the Queen, and

I guessed it was that in his hand, and I desired to know what was in

it; he smilingly replied, "My love, I will immediately come to thee,

pray thee go, for I am very busy." When he came out of his closet I

revived my suit; he kissed me, and talked of other things. At supper I

would eat nothing; he as usual sat by me, and drank often to me, which

was his custom, and was full of discourse to company that was at

table. Going to bed I asked again, and said I could not believe he

loved me if he refused to tell me all he knew; but he answered

nothing, but stopped my mouth with kisses. So we went to bed, I cried,

and he went to sleep. Next morning early, as his custom was, he called

to rise, but began to discourse with me first, to which I made no

reply; he rose, came on the other side of the bed and kissed me, and

drew the curtains softly and went to Court. When he came home to

dinner, he presently came to me as was usual, and when I had him by

the hand, I said, 'Thou dost not care to see me troubled'; to which he

taking me in his arms, answered, 'My dearest soul, nothing upon earth

can afflict me like that, and when you asked me of my business, it was

wholly out of my power to satisfy thee, for my life and fortune shall

be thine, and every thought of my heart in which the trust I am in may

not be revealed, but my honour is my own, which I cannot preserve if I

communicate the Prince's affairs; and pray thee with this answer rest

satisfied.' So great was his reason and goodness, that upon

consideration it made my folly appear to me so vile, that from that

day until the day of his death I never thought fit to ask him any

business but what he communicated freely to me in order to his estate

or family. My husband grew much in the Prince's favour; and Mr. Long

not being suffered to execute the business of his place, as the

Council suspected that he held private intelligence with the Earl of

Essex, which when he perceived he went into the enemy's quarters, and

so to London, and then into France, full of complaints of the Prince's

Council to the Queen-Mother, and when he was gone your father supplied

his place.

About July this year, [1645,] the plague increased so fast in Bristol,

that the Prince and all his retinue went to Barnstaple, which is one

of the finest towns in England; and your father and I went two days

after the Prince; for during all the time I was in the Court I never

journeyed but either before him, or when he was gone, nor ever saw him

but at church, for it was not in those days the fashion for honest

women, except they had business, to visit a man's Court. I saw there

at Mr. Palmer's, where we lay, who was a merchant, a parrot above a

hundred years old. They have, near this town, a fruit called a

massard, like a cherry, but different in taste, and makes the best

pies with their sort of cream I ever eat. My Lady Capell here left us,

and with a pass from the Earl of Essex, went to London with her eldest

daughter, now Marquesse of Worcester. Sir Allan Apsley was governor of

the town, and we had all sorts of good provision and accommodation;

but the Prince's affairs calling him from that place, we went to

Launceston, in Cornwall, and thither came very many gentlemen of that

county to do their duties to his Highness: they were generally loyal

to the crown and hospitable to their neighbours, but they are of a

crafty and censorious nature, as most are so far from London. That

country hath great plenty, especially of fish and fowl, but nothing

near so fat and sweet as within forty miles of London. We were

quartered at Truro, twenty miles beyond Launceston, in which place I

had like to have been robbed. One night having with me but seven or

eight persons, my husband being then at Launceston with his master,

somebody had discovered that my husband had a little trunk of the

Prince's in keeping, in which were some jewels that tempted them us to

assay; but, praised be God, I defended, with the few servants I had,

the house so long that help came from the town to my rescue, which was

not above a flight shot from the place where I dwelt; and the next day

upon my notice my husband sent me a guard by his Highness's command.

From thence the Court removed to Pendennis Castle, some time commanded

by Sir Nicholas Slanning, who lost his life bravely in the King's

service [Footnote: He was killed at the siege of Bristol.], and left

an excellent name behind him. In this place came Sir John Granville

into his Highness's service, and was made a gentleman of his

bedchamber. His father was a very honest gentleman, and lost his life

in the King's service; and his uncle, Sir Richard, was a good

commander but a little too severe. I was at Penzance with my father,

and in the same town was my brother Fanshawe and his lady and

children. My father and that family embarked for Morlaix, in

Brittanny, with my father's new wife, which he had then married out of

that family. My cousin Fanshawe, of Jenkins, and his eldest son, being

with them, went also over, but being in a small vessel of that port

and surprised with a great storm, they had all like to have been cast

away, which forced them to land in a little creek, two leagues from

Morlaix, upon the 28th of March, 1646; and five days after the Prince

and all his council embarked themselves in a ship called the Phoenix,

for the Isles of Scilly. They went from the Land's-end, and so did we;

being accompanied with many gentlemen of that country, among whom was

Sir Francis Basset, Governor of the Mount, an honest gentleman, and so

were all his family; and in particular we received great civility from

them. But we left our house and furniture with Captain Bluet, who

promised to keep them until such a time as we could dispose of them;

but when we sent, he said he had been plundered of them,

notwithstanding it was well known he lost nothing of his own. At that

time this loss went deep with us, for we lost to the value of 2OO

pounds and more. But, as the proverb saith, an evil chance seldom

comes alone: we having put all our present estate into two trunks, and

carried them aboard with us in a ship commanded by Sir Nicholas

Crispe, whose skill and honesty the master and seamen had no opinion

of, my husband was forced to appease their mutiny which his

miscarriage caused; and taking out money to pay the seamen, that night

following they broke open one of our trunks, and took out a bag of 60

pounds and a quantity of gold lace, with our best clothes and linen,

with all my combs, gloves, and ribbons, which amounted to near 300

pounds more. The next day, after having been pillaged, and extremely

sick and big with child, I was set on shore almost dead in the island

of Scilly. When we had got to our quarters near the Castle, where the

Prince lay, I went immediately to bed, which was so vile, that my

footman ever lay in a better, and we had but three in the whole house,

which consisted of four rooms, or rather partitions, two low rooms and

two little lofts, with a ladder to go up: in one of these they kept

dried fish, which was his trade, and in this my husband's two clerks

lay, one there was for my sister, and one for myself, and one amongst

the rest of the servants. But, when I waked in the morning, I was so

cold I knew not what to do, but the daylight discovered that my bed

was near swimming with the sea, which the owner told us afterwards it

never did so but at spring tide. With this, we were destitute of

clothes,--and meat, and fuel, for half the Court to serve them a month

was not to be had in the whole island; and truly we begged our daily

bread of God, for we thought every meal our last. The Council sent for

provisions to France, which served us, but they were bad, and a little

of them. Then, after three weeks and odd days, we set sail for the

Isle of Jersey, where we safely arrived, praised be God, beyond the

belief of all the beholders from that island; for the pilot not

knowing the way into the harbour, sailed over the rocks, but being

spring tide, and by chance high water, God be praised, his Highness

and all of us came safe ashore through so great a danger. Sir George

Carteret was Lieutenant-Governor of the island, under my Lord St.

Albans: a man formerly bred a sea-boy, and born in that island, the

brother's son of Sir Philip Carteret, whose younger daughter he

afterwards married. He endeavoured, with all his power, to entertain

his Highness and Court with all plenty and kindness possible, both

which the island afforded, and what was wanting, he sent for out of

France.

There are in this island two castles, both good, but St. Mary's is

best, and hath the largest reception. There are many gentlemen's

houses, at which we were entertained. They have fine walks along to

their doors, double elms or oaks, which is extremely pleasant, and

their ordinary highways are good walks, by reason of the shadow. The

whole place is grass, except some small parcels where corn is grown.

The chiefest employment is knitting; they neither speak English nor

good French; they are a cheerful, good-natured people, and truly

subject to the present government. We quartered at a widow's house in

the market-place, Madame De Pommes, a stocking merchant: here I was

upon the 7th of March, [Footnote: Query, May or June. She did not

arrive in Jersey until April.] 1646, delivered of my second child, a

daughter, christened Anne. And now there began great disputes about

the Prince, for the Queen would have him to Paris, to which end she

sent many letters and messengers to his Highness and Council, who were

for the most part against his going, both to the Queen his mother, and

his going to France, for reasons of state, but the Queen having an

excellent solicitor in the Lord Colepeper, it was resolved by his

Highness to go: upon which Lord Capell, Lord Hopton, and the

Chancellor staid at Jersey, and with them my husband, whose employment

ceased when his master went out of his father's kingdom;--not that

your father sided with either party of the Council, but having no

inclination at that time to go to the Court, and because his brother,

Lord Fanshawe, was desperately sick at Caen, he intended to stay some

time with him. About the beginning of July, the Prince, accompanied

with the Earl of Bradford, a soldier of fortune, and Lord Colepeper,

and the Earl of Berkshire, and most of his servants, went to

Cotanville, and from thence to Paris, where he remained some little

time by his mother the Queen's council, and afterwards went into

Holland. Your father and I remained fifteen days in Jersey, and

resolved that he would remain with his brother in Caen, whilst he sent

me into England, whither my father was gone a month before, to see if

I could procure a sum of money. The beginning of August we took our

leave of the governor's family, and left our child with a nurse under

the care of the Lady Carteret; [Footnote: It was apparently this Lady,

of whom Pepys observes, 30th June, 1662. "Told my Lady Carteret, how

my Lady Fanshawe is fallen out with her only for speaking in behalf of

the French: which my Lady wonders at, they having been formerly like

sisters."--Diary, vol. i. p. 284.] and in four days we came to Caen,

and myself, sister, and maid went from Mr. Fanborne's house, where my

brother and all his family lodged, aboard a small merchantman that lay

in the river; and upon the 30th of August, I arrived in the Cowes,

near Southampton, to which place I went that night, and came to London

two days after. This was the first time I had taken a journey without

your father, and the first manage of business he ever put into my

hands, in which I thank God I had good success; for, lodging in Fleet

Street, at Mr. Eates, the Watchmaker, with my sister Boteler, I

procured by the means of Colonel Copley, a great Parliament-man, whose

wife had formerly been obliged to our family, a pass for your father

to come and compound for 300 pounds which was a part of my fortune,

but it was only a pretence, for your grandfather was obliged to

compound for it, and deliver it us free. And when your father was

come, he was very private in London; for he was in daily fears to be

imprisoned before he could raise money to go back again to his master,

who was not then in a condition to maintain him. Thus upon thorns he

stayed the October 1647. In the October before, 1646, my brother

Richard Harrison was born; and this year my sister Boteler married Sir

Philip Warwick, her second husband; for her first, Sir William

Boteler, was killed at Cropley-bridge, commanding a part of the King's

army: he was a most gallant, worthy, honest gentleman.

The 30th of July I was delivered of a son, called Henry, in lodgings

in Portugal-row, Lincoln's-inn-fields. This was a very sad time for us

all of the King's party, for by the folly, to give it no worse name,

of Sir John Berkeley, since Lord Berkeley, and Mr. John Ashburnham, of

the King's bedchamber, who were drawn in by the cursed crew of the

then standing army for the Parliament to persuade the King to leave

Hampton Court, to which they had then carried him, and to make his

escape, which design failing, as the plot was laid, he was tormented

and afterwards barbarously and shamefully murdered, as all the world

knows.

During his stay at Hampton Court, my husband was with him, to whom he

was pleased to talk much of his concerns, and give him there

credentials for Spain, with private instructions, and letters for his

service; but God for our sins disposed his Majesty's affairs

otherwise. I went three times to pay my duty to him, both as I was the

daughter of his servant, and wife of his servant. The last time I ever

saw him, when I took my leave, I could not refrain weeping: when he

had saluted me, I prayed to God to preserve his Majesty with long life

and happy years; he stroked me on the cheek, and said, 'Child, if God

pleaseth, it shall be so, but both you and I must submit to God's

will, and you know in what hands I am'; then turning to your father,

he said, 'Be sure, Dick, to tell my son all that I have said, and

deliver those letters to my wife; pray God bless her! I hope I shall

do well'; and taking him in his arms, said, 'Thou hast ever been an

honest man, and I hope God will bless thee, and make thee a happy

servant to my son, whom I have charged in my letter to continue his

love, and trust to you'; adding, 'I do promise you that if ever I am

restored to my dignity I will bountifully reward you both for your

service and sufferings.' Thus did we part from that glorious sun, that

within a few months after was murdered, to the grief of all Christians

that were not forsaken by God.

The October, as I told you, my husband and I went into France, by the

way of Portsmouth, where, walking by the sea side about a mile from

our lodgings, two ships of the Dutch, then in war with England, shot

bullets at us so near that we heard them whiz by us; at which I called

to my husband to make haste back, and began to run, but he altered not

his pace, saying, 'If we must be killed, it were as good to be killed

walking as running.' But, escaping, we embarked the next day; and that

journey fetched home our girl we had left in Jersey; and my husband

was forced to come out of France to Hamerton, in Huntingdonshire, to

my sister Bedell's, to the wedding of his nephew, the last Lord Thomas

Fanshawe, who then married the daughter of Ferrers: as I have said

before, she was a very great fortune, and a most excellent woman, and

brought up some time after her mother's death with my sister Bedell.

About two months after this, in June, I was delivered of a son on the

8th day, 1648. The latter end of July I went to London, leaving my

little boy Richard at nurse with his brother at Hartingfordbury. It

happened to be the very day after that the Lord Holland was taken

prisoner at St. Neot, and Lord Francis Villiers was killed; and as we

passed through the town, we saw Colonel Montague, afterwards Earl of

Sandwich, spoiling the town for the Parliament and himself. Coming to

London, I went to welcome the Marchioness of Ormond to town, that then

was come out of France, who received me with great kindness, as she

ever had done before, and told me she must love me for many reasons,

and one was, that we were both born in one chamber: when I left her,

she presented me with a ruby ring set with two diamonds, which she

prayed me to wear for her sake, and I have it to this day.

In the month of September my husband was commanded by the Prince to

wait on him in the Downs, where he was with a very considerable fleet;

but the fleet was divided, part being for the King, and part for the

Parliament. They were resolved to fight that day, which if they had,

would have been the most cruel fight that ever England knew; but God

by his will parted them by a storm, and afterwards it was said, Lord

Colepeper, and one Low, a surgeon, that was a reputed knave, so

ordered the business, that for money the fleet was betrayed to the

enemy. During this time my husband wrote me a letter, from on board

the Prince's ship, full of concern for me, believing they should

engage on great odds; but, if he should lose his life, advised me to

patience, and this with so much love and reason, that my heart melts

to this day when I think of it; but, God be praised, he was reserved

for better things.

In December [Footnote: This must be a mistake for NOVEMBER; for in

September he was on board the fleet in the Downs, and after passing

SIX WEEKS IN PARIS, he went to Calais with Lady Fanshawe on the 25th

of DECEMBER, 1649. The date of the year is also erroneous, as it is

evident from the context that it was 1648.] my husband went to Paris

on his master's business, and sent for me from London: I carried him

300 pounds of his money. During our stay at Paris, I was highly

obliged to the Queen-Mother of England. We passed away six weeks with

great delight in good company; my Lady Norton, that was governess to

the Lady Henrietta, Charles the First's youngest daughter, was very

kind. I had the honour of her company, both in my own lodging and in

the Palace Royal, where she attended her charge; likewise my Lady

Danby, and her daughter, my Lady Guilford, with many others of our

nation, both in the Court and out of it; amongst whom was Mr. Waller,

the poet, and his wife: they went with us to Calais, upon the 25th of

December, 1649. I, with my husband, kissed the Queen-Mother's hand,

who promised her favour, with much grace, to us both, and sent letters

to the King, then in Holland, by my husband. From her Majesty we

waited on the Princes, and afterwards took our leave of all that

Court.

When we came to Calais, we met the Earl of Strafford and Sir Kenelm

Digby, with some others of our countrymen. We were all feasted at the

Governor's of the castle, and much excellent discourse passed; but, as

was reason, most share was Sir Kenelm Digby's, who had enlarged

somewhat more in extraordinary stories than might be averred, and all

of them passed with great applause and wonder of the French then at

table; but the concluding one was, that barnacles, a bird in Jersey,

was first a shell-fish in appearance, and from that, sticking upon old

wood, became in time a bird. After some consideration, they

unanimously burst out into laughter, believing it altogether false;

and, to say the truth, it was the only thing true he had discoursed

with them: that was his infirmity, though otherwise a person of most

excellent parts, and a very fine-bred gentleman.

My husband thought it convenient to send me into England again, there

to try what sums I could raise, both for his subsistence abroad and

mine at home; and though nothing was so grievous to us both as

parting, yet the necessity both of the public and your father's

private affairs, obliged us often to yield to the trouble of absence,

as at this time. I took my leave with sad heart, and embarked myself

in a hoy for Dover, with Mrs. Waller and my sister Margaret Harrison,

and my little girl Nan; but a great storm arising, we had like to be

cast away, the vessel being half full of water, and we forced to land

at Deal, every one carried upon men's backs, and we up to the middle

in water, and very glad to escape so. About this time the Prince of

Orange was born. [Footnote: This is an error, as he was born on the

4th of November, 1650.]

My husband went from thence by Flanders into Holland to his master;

and, in February following, your father was sent into Ireland by the

King, there to receive such monies as Prince Rupert could raise by the

fleet he commanded of the King's; but a few months put an end to that

design, though it had a very good aspect in the beginning, which made

my husband send for me and the little family I had thither. We went by

Bristol very cheerfully towards my north star, that only had the power

to fix me; and because I had had the good fortune, as I then thought

it, to sell 300 pounds a year to him that is now Judge Archer, in

Essex, for which he gave me 4000 pounds, which at that time I thought

a vast sum; but be it more or less, I am sure it was spent in seven

years' time in the King's service, and to this hour I repent it not, I

thank God. Five hundred pounds I carried to my husband, the rest I

left in my father's agent's hands to be returned as we needed it.

I landed at Youghall, in Munster, as my husband directed me, in hopes

to meet me there; but I had the discomfort of a very hazardous voyage,

and the absence of your father, he then being upon business at Cork.

So soon as he heard I was landed, he came to me, and with mutual joy

we discoursed those things that were proper to entertain us both; and

thus, for six months, we lived so much to our satisfaction, that we

began to think of making our abode there during the war, for the

country was fertile, and all provisions cheap, and the houses good,

and we were placed in Red Abbey, a house of Dean Boyle's in Cork, and

my Lord of Ormond had a very good army, and the country seemingly

quiet; and, to complete our content, all persons were very civil to

us, especially Dean Boyle, Lord Chancellor of Ireland, and Archbishop

of Dublin and his family, and the Lord Inchiquin, whose daughter

Elkenna I christened in 1650.

But what earthly comfort is exempt from change? for here I heard of

the death of my second son, Henry, and, within a few weeks, of the

landing of Cromwell, who so hotly marched over Ireland, that the fleet

with Prince Rupert was forced to set sail, and within a small time

after he lost all his riches, which was thought to be worth hundreds

of thousands of pounds, in one of his best ships, commanded by his

brother Maurice, who with many a brave man sunk and were all lost in a

storm at sea.

We remained some time behind in Ireland, until my husband could

receive his Majesty's commands how to dispose of himself. During this

time I had, by the fall of a stumbling horse, being with child, broke

my left wrist, which, because it was ill-set, put me to great and long

pain, and I was in my bed when Cork revolted. By chance that day my

husband was gone on business to Kinsale: it was in the beginning of

November 1650. [Footnote: These events happened in November 1649.] At

midnight I heard the great guns go off, and thereupon I called up my

family to rise, which I did as well as I could in that condition.

Hearing lamentable shrieks of men, women, and children, I asked at a

window the cause; they told me they were all Irish, stripped and

wounded, and turned out of the town, and that Colonel Jeffries, with

some others, had possessed themselves of the town for Cromwell, Upon

this, I immediately wrote a letter to my husband, blessing God's

providence that he was not there with me, persuading him to patience

and hope that I should get safely out of the town, by God's

assistance, and desired him to shift for himself, for fear of a

surprise, with promise that I would secure his papers.

So soon as I had finished my letter, I sent it by a faithful servant,

who was let down the garden-wall of Red Abbey, and, sheltered by the

darkness of the might, he made his escape. I immediately packed up my

husband's cabinet, with all his writings, and near 1000 pounds in gold

and silver, and all other things both of clothes, linen, and household

stuff that were portable, of value; and then, about three o'clock in

the morning, by the light of a taper, and in that pain I was in, I

went into the market-place, with only a man and maid, and passing

through an unruly tumult with their swords in their hands, searched

for their chief commander Jeffries, who, whilst he was loyal, had

received many civilities from your father. I told him it was necessary

that upon that change I should remove, and I desired his pass that

would be obeyed, or else I must remain there: I hoped he would not

deny me that kindness. He instantly wrote me a pass, both for myself,

family, and goods, and said he would never forget the respect he owed

your father. With this I came through thousands of naked swords to Red

Abbey, and hired the next neighbour's cart, which carried all that I

could remove; and myself, sister, and little girl Nan, with three

maids and two men, set forth at five o'clock in November, having but

two horses amongst us all, which we rid on by turns. In this sad

condition I left Red Abbey, with as many goods as were worth 100

pounds which could not be removed, and so were plundered. We went ten

miles to Kinsale, in perpetual fear of being fetched back again; but,

by little and little, I thank God, we got safe to the garrison, where

I found your father the most disconsolate man in the world, for fear

of his family, which he had no possibility to assist; but his joys

exceeded to see me and his darling daughter, and to hear the wonderful

escape we, through the assistance of God, had made.

But when the rebels went to give an account to Cromwell of their

meritorious act, he immediately asked them where Mr. Fanshawe was?

They replied, he was that day gone to Kinsale. Then he demanded where

his papers and his family were? At which they all stared at one

another, but made no reply. Their General said, 'It was as much worth

to have seized his papers as the town; for I did make account to have

known by them what these parts of the country are worth.'

But within a few days we received the King's order, which was, that my

husband should, upon sight thereof, go into Spain to Philip IV. and

deliver him his Majesty's letters; and by my husband also his Majesty

sent letters to my Lord Cottington and Sir Edward Hyde, his

Ambassadors Extraordinary in that Court. Upon this order we went to

Macrome to the Lord Clancarty, who married a sister of the Lord

Ormond; we stayed there two nights, and at my coming away, after a

very noble entertainment, my Lady gave me a great Irish greyhound, and

I presented her with a fine besel-stone.

From thence we went to Limerick, where we were entertained by the

Mayor and Aldermen very nobly; and the Recorder of the Town was very

kind, and in respect they made my husband a freeman of Limerick. There

we met the Bishop of Londonderry and the Earl of Roscommon, who was

Lord Chancellor of that Kingdom at that time. These two persons with

my husband being together writing letters to the King, to give an

account of the kingdom, when they were going down stairs from my Lord

Roscommon's chamber, striving to hold the candle at the stairs' head,

because the privacy of their despatch admitted not a servant to be

near, my Lord Roscommon fell down the stairs, and his head fell upon

the corner of a stone and broke his skull in three pieces, of which he

died five days after, leaving the broad seal of Ireland in your

father's hands, until such time as he could acquaint his Majesty with

this sad account, and receive orders how to dispose of the seals. This

caused our longer stay, but your father and I being invited to my Lord

Inchiquin's, there to stay till we heard out of Holland from the King,

which was a month before the messenger returned, we had very kind

entertainment, and vast plenty of fish and fowl. By this time my Lord

Lieutenant the now Duke of Ormond's army was quite dispersed, and

himself gone for Holland, and every person concerned in that interest

shifting for their lives; and Cromwell went through as bloodily as

victoriously, many worthy persons being murdered in cold blood, and

their families quite ruined.

From hence we went to the Lady Honor O'Brien's, a lady that went for a

maid, but few believed it: she was the youngest daughter of the Earl

of Thomond. There we stayed three nights. The first of which I was

surprised by being laid in a chamber, when, about one o'clock I heard

a voice that wakened me. I drew the curtain, and in the casement of

the window, I saw, by the light of the moon, a woman leaning into the

window, through the casement, in white, with red hair and pale and

ghastly complexion: she spoke loud, and in a tone I had never heard,

thrice, 'A horse'; and then, with a sigh more like the wind than

breath she vanished, and to me her body looked more like a thick cloud

than substance. I was so much frightened, that my hair stood on end,

and my night clothes fell off. I pulled and pinched your father, who

never woke during the disorder I was in; but at last was much

surprised to see me in this fright, and more so when I related the

story and showed him the window opened. Neither of us slept any more

that night, but he entertained me with telling me how much more these

apparitions were usual in this country than in England; and we

concluded the cause to be the great superstition of the Irish, and the

want of that knowing faith, which should defend them from the power of

the Devil, which he exercises among them very much. About five o'clock

the lady of the house came to see us, saying she had not been in bed

all night, because a cousin O'Brien of her's, whose ancestors had

owned that house, had desired her to stay with him in his chamber, and

that he died at two o'clock, and she said, 'I wish you to have had no

disturbance, for 'tis the custom of the place, that, when any of the

family are dying, the shape of a woman appears in the window every

night till they be dead. This woman was many ages ago got with child

by the owner of this place, who murdered her in his garden and flung

her into the river under the window, but truly I thought not of it

when I lodged you here, it being the best room in the house.' We made

little reply to her speech, but disposed ourselves to be gone

suddenly.

By this time my husband had received orders from the King to give the

Lord Inchiquin the seals to keep until farther orders from his

Majesty. When that business was settled, we went, accompanied by my

Lord Inchiquin and his family, four or five miles towards Galway,

which he did not by choice, but the plague had been so hot in that

city the summer before, that it was almost depopulated, and the haven

as much as the town. But your father hearing that, by accident, there

was a great ship of Amsterdam bound for Malaga, in Spain, and Cromwell

pursuing his conquests at our backs, resolved to fall into the hands

of God rather than into the hands of men; and with his family of about

ten persons came to the town at the latter end of February, [Footnote:

Probably January, as in a subsequent page Lady Fanshawe says, she

embarked for Galway in the beginning of February.] where we found

guards placed that none should enter without certificates from whence

they came; but understanding that your father came to embark himself

for Spain, and that there was a merchant's house taken for us, that

was near the sea-side, and one of their best, they told us, if we

pleased to alight, they would wait on us to the place; but it was long

from thence, and no horses were admitted into the town.

An Irish footman that served us, said, 'I lived here some years and

know every street, and likewise know a much nearer way than these men

can show you, Sir; therefore come with me, if you please.' We resolved

to follow him, and sent our horses to stables in the suburbs: he led

us all on the back side of the town, under the walls, over which the

people during the plague, which was not yet quite stopped, flung out

all their dung, dirt, and rags, and we walked up to the middle of our

legs in them, for, being engaged, we could not get back. At last we

found the house, by the master standing at the door expecting us, who

said, 'You are welcome to this disconsolate city, where you now see

the streets grown over with grass, once the finest little city in the

world.' And indeed it is easy to think so, the buildings being

uniformly built, and a very fine marketplace, and walks arched and

paved by the sea-side for their merchants to walk on, and a most noble

harbour.

Our house was very clean, only one maid in it besides the master; we

had a very good supper provided, and being very weary went early to

bed. The owner of this house entertained us with the story of the late

Marquis of Worcester, who had been there some time the year before: he

had of his own and other friends' jewels to the value of 8000 pounds,

which some merchants had lent upon them. My Lord appointed a day for

receiving the money upon them and delivering the jewels; being met, he

shows them to all these persons, then seals them up in a box, and

delivered them to one of these merchants, by consent of the rest, to

be kept for one year, and upon the payment of the 8000 pounds by my

Lord Marquis to be delivered him.

After my Lord had received the money, he was entertained at all these

persons' houses, and nobly feasted with them near a month: he went

from thence into France. When the year was expired, they, by letters

into France, pressed the payment of this borrowed money several times,

alleging they had great necessity of their money to drive their trade

with; to which my Lord Marquis made no answer; which did at last so

exasperate these men, that they broke open the seals, and opening the

box found nothing but rags and stones for their 8000 pounds at which

they were highly enraged, and in this case I left them.

At the beginning of February we took ship, and our kind host, with

much satisfaction in our company, prayed God to bless us and give us a

good voyage, for, said he, 'I thank God you are all gone safe aboard

from my house, notwithstanding I have buried nine persons out of my

house within these six months'; which saying much startled us, but,

God's name be praised, we were all well, and so continued.

Here now our scene was shifted from land to sea, and we left that

brave kingdom, fallen, in six or eight months, into a most miserable

sad condition, as it hath been many times in most kings' reigns, God

knows why! for I presume not to say; but the natives seem to me a very

loving people to each other, and constantly false to all strangers,

the Spaniards only excepted. The country exceeds in timber and sea-

ports, and great plenty of fish, fowl, flesh, and, by shipping, wants

no foreign commodities. We pursued our voyage with prosperous winds,

but with a most tempestuous master, a Dutchman, which is enough to

say, but truly, I think, the greatest beast I ever saw of his kind.

When we had just passed the Straits, we saw coming towards us, with

full sails, a Turkish galley well manned, and we believed we should be

all carried away slaves, for this man had so laden his ship with goods

for Spain, that his guns were useless, though the ship carried sixty

guns. He called for brandy; and after he had well drunken, and all his

men, which were near two hundred, he called for arms and cleared the

deck as well as he could, resolving to fight rather than lose his

ship, which was worth thirty thousand pounds. This was sad for us

passengers; but my husband bade us be sure to keep in the cabin, and

the women not to appear, which would make the Turks think that we were

a man-of-war, but if they saw women they would take us for merchants

and board us. He went upon the deck, and took a gun and bandoliers,

and sword, and, with the rest of the ship's company, stood upon deck

expecting the arrival of the Turkish man-of-war. This beast, the

Captain, had locked me up in the cabin; I knocked and called long to

no purpose, until, at length, the cabin-boy came and opened the door;

I, all in tears, desired him to be so good as to give me his blue

thrum cap he wore, and his tarred coat, which he did, and I gave him

half a crown, and putting them on and flinging away my night clothes,

I crept up softly and stood upon the deck by my husband's side, as

free from sickness and fear as, I confess, from discretion; but it was

the effect of that passion, which I could never master.

By this time the two vessels were engaged in parley, and so well

satisfied with speech and sight of each other's forces, that the

Turks' man-of-war tacked about, and we continued our course. But when

your father saw it convenient to retreat, looking upon me, he blessed

himself, and snatched me up in his arms, saying, 'Good God, that love

can make this change!' and though he seemingly chid me, he would laugh

at it as often as he remembered that voyage. And in the beginning of

March we all landed, praised be God, in Malaga, very well, and full of

content to see ourselves delivered from the sword and plague, and

living in hope that we should one day return happily to our native

country; notwithstanding, we thought it great odds, considering how

the affairs of the King's three kingdoms stood; but we trusted in the

providence of Almighty God, and proceeded.

We were very kindly entertained by the merchants, and by them lodged

in a merchant's house, where we had not been with our goods three

days, when the vessel that brought us thither, by the negligence of a

cabin-boy, was blown up in the harbour, with the loss of above a

hundred men and all our lading.

After we had refreshed ourselves some days, we went on our journey

towards Madrid, and lodged the first night at Velez Malaga, to which

we were accompanied by most of the merchants. The next day we went to

Grenada, having passed the highest mountains I ever saw in my life,

but under this lieth the finest valley that can be possibly described,

adorned with high trees and rich grass, and beautified with a large

deep clear river. Over the town and this standeth the goodly vast

palace of the King's, called the Alhambra, whose buildings are, after

the fashion of the Moors, adorned with vast quantities of jasper-

stone; many courts, many fountains, and by reason it is situated on

the side of a hill, and not built uniform, many gardens with ponds in

them, and many baths made of jasper, and many principal rooms roofed

with the mosaic work, which exceeds the finest enamel I ever saw. Here

I was showed in the midst of a very large piece of rich embroidery

made by the Moors of Grenada, in the middle as long as half a yard of

the true Tyrian dye, which is so glorious a colour that it cannot be

expressed: it hath the glory of scarlet, the beauty of purple, and is

so bright, that when the eye is removed upon any other object it seems

as white as snow.

The entry into this great Palace is of stone, for a Porter's-lodge,

but very magnificent, through the gate below, which is adorned with

figures of forestwork, in which the Moors did transcend. High above

this gate was a bunch of keys cut in stone likewise, with this motto:

'Until that hand holds those keys, the Christians shall never possess

this Alhambra.' This was a prophecy they had, in which they animated

themselves, by reason of the impossibility that ever they should meet.

But see, how true there is a time for all things! It happened that

when the Moors were besieged in that place by Don Fernando and his

Queen Isabella, the King with an arrow out of a bow, which they then

used in war, shooting the first arrow as their custom is, cut that

part of the stone that holds the keys, which was in fashion of a

chain, and the keys falling, remained in the hand underneath. This

strange accident preceded but a few days the conquest of the town of

Grenada and kingdom.

They have in this place an iron grate, fixed into the side of the

hill, that is a rock: I laid my head to the key-hole and heard a noise

like the clashing of arms, but could not distinguish other shrill

noises I heard with that, but tradition says it could never be opened

since the Moors left it, notwithstanding several persons had

endeavoured to wrench it open, but that they perished in the attempt.

The truth of this I can say no more to; but that there is such a gate,

and I have seen it.