Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 List of Illustrations
 Chapter I: Of my birth and...
 Chapter II: Of my sojourn...
 Chapter III: Of the plague and...
 Chapter IV: Of things at home
 Chapter V: Of things at Oxford
 Chapter VI: Of the King's going...
 Chapter VII: Of the fight at Copredy...
 Chapter VIII: Of the plague at...
 Chapter IX: Before Naseby
 Chapter X: Of Naseby fight
 Chapter XI: After Naseby
 Chapter XII: Of my father's end...
 Chapter XIII: Of my coming back...
 Chapter XIV: Of Bodley's libra...
 Chapter XV: Of the visitors at...
 Chapter XVI: Of my kinsfolk at...
 Chapter XVII: Of my going...
 Chapter XVIII: Of the trial of...
 Chapter XIX: Of the King's...
 Chapter XX: Of matters at...
 Chapter XXI: Of my adventures at...
 Epilogue: Rotterdam, May 1st...
 Back Cover

Group Title: With the King at Oxford : a tale of the great rebellion
Title: With the King at Oxford
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00054408/00001
 Material Information
Title: With the King at Oxford a tale of the great rebellion
Physical Description: 298, 2 p., 16 leaves of plates : ill. (some col.), port ; 20 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Church, Alfred John, 1829-1912
Seeley and Co ( Publisher )
Publisher: Seeley & Co.
Place of Publication: London
Publication Date: 1886
Subject: Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Kings and rulers -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Capital punishment -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
History -- Juvenile fiction -- Great Britain -- Stuarts, 1603-1714   ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1886   ( rbgenr )
Genre: Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Statement of Responsibility: by Alfred J. Church ; with sixteen illustrations.
General Note: Publisher's advertisements follow text.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00054408
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002224232
notis - ALG4493
oclc - 13357466

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page i
    Half Title
        Page ii
        Page iii
    Title Page
        Page iv
        Page v
        Page vi
    Table of Contents
        Page vii
    List of Illustrations
        Page viii
    Chapter I: Of my birth and bringing-up
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
    Chapter II: Of my sojourn in London
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
    Chapter III: Of the plague and other matters
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
    Chapter IV: Of things at home
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
    Chapter V: Of things at Oxford
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
    Chapter VI: Of the King's going to Worcester
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
    Chapter VII: Of the fight at Copredy Bridge
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
    Chapter VIII: Of the plague at Oxford and other matters
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
    Chapter IX: Before Naseby
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
    Chapter X: Of Naseby fight
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
    Chapter XI: After Naseby
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
    Chapter XII: Of my father's end and other matters
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
    Chapter XIII: Of my coming back to Oxford
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
    Chapter XIV: Of Bodley's library
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
    Chapter XV: Of the visitors at Oxford
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
    Chapter XVI: Of my kinsfolk at Enstone
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
        Page 216
        Page 217
        Page 218
        Page 219
        Page 220
        Page 221
        Page 222
        Page 223
    Chapter XVII: Of my going to London
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
        Page 227
        Page 228
        Page 229
        Page 230
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
        Page 235
        Page 236
        Page 237
    Chapter XVIII: Of the trial of the king
        Page 238
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
        Page 247
        Page 248
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
    Chapter XIX: Of the King's death
        Page 252
        Page 253
        Page 254
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
        Page 258
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
        Page 262
    Chapter XX: Of matters at Enstone
        Page 263
        Page 264
        Page 265
        Page 266
        Page 267
        Page 268
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
        Page 272
        Page 273
        Page 274
    Chapter XXI: Of my adventures at sea
        Page 275
        Page 276
        Page 277
        Page 278
        Page 279
        Page 280
        Page 281
        Page 282
        Page 283
        Page 284
        Page 285
        Page 286
        Page 287
        Page 288
        Page 289
        Page 290
        Page 291
        Page 292
    Epilogue: Rotterdam, May 1st 1660
        Page 293
        Page 294
        Page 295
        Page 296
        Page 297
        Page 298
        Page 299
        Page 300
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
Full Text


f; -4441,

7, 7

Ail -- ------- -

The Baldwin Library




*i ( cU'' i t^^

.~~G A' -

FTA d 'al XNV. M

-*AN f. PFIR '^ '_./^**



A4 Ausheleer.

With the KING



Rev. Alfred J. Church, M.A.
Professor of Latin in University College, London
Author of Stories from Homer "

With Sixteen Illustrations

All Rights Reserved


(eorge Ritifam fleettooot 2ur



I cannot allow this book to appear without the expression of my
thanks to the Rev. Andrew Clark, Fellow of Lincoln College,
Oxford, who very kindly put at my service a number of interesting
records of the domestic history of the College.
A. C.

October, 1885.




A MUSKETEER Frontisiece






With the KING





My father was the son of a gentleman of
Oxfordshire that had a small estate near to
the town of Eynsham, in that county. The
monks of Eynsham Priory had the land afore-
time; and 'twas said that here, as elsewhere,
there was a curse upon such as held for their
own uses that which had been dedicated to
God's service. How this may be I know not,
though there are notable instances-as, to wit,
the Russells-in which no visible curse has
fallen on the holders of such goods; but it is
certain that my father's forbears wasted their
estate grievously. Being but the third son, he


had scarce, in any case, tarried at home; but,
matters being as they were, the emptiness of
the family purse drove him out betimes into the
world. Being of good birth and breeding he
got, without much ado, a place about the Court,
which was not, however, much to his liking. I
have heard him say-and this, though, as will
be seen hereafter, he was a great lover of
monarchy-that, between a weak king and
villainous courtiers, Whitehall was no place
for an honest gentleman. Robert Carr, that
was afterwards Earl of Somerset, he liked
little, and George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham,
he liked yet less, being, as he was wont to say,
by so much a greater villain than Somerset as a
duke is greater than an earl. He was right
glad, therefore, to leave the "sunshine of the
Royal presence;" for so did men speak of the
Court in the hyperbolical language of those
times, even for so dismal and outlandish a part
as Ireland. But I know not whether he did
not wish himself back, for of Ireland he would
never afterwards speak with any measure of
patience, declaring that he knew not which were
the worse, the greediness and cruelty of the


English conquerors, or the savagery and un-
reason of the native people. Here he tarried
for some three or four years, having, indeed,
had bestowed upon him an estate, which, for its
boundaries, at least, was of considerable mag-
nitude, but from which he received nothing but
trouble. Who hath it now I know not; and,
indeed, he charged me to have nought to do
with it, saying-for I remember his very words
-" If they will give thee the whole island
in fee, say them nay, for it is fit for nothing
but to be drowned under the sea." Yet his
next venture was not one whit happier, as
will be readily concluded, when I say that he
took service with Sir Walter Raleigh, whom he
chanced to fall in with at Cork, at which place
Sir Walter touched on his way to the Indies in
search of gold. Gold got they none, but of
hard blows not a few, and of pains and sickness
still more. My father was with the boats that
sailed up the river Orinoco, and caught in his
arms, I have heard him say, Walter Raleigh
the younger, when this last was slain by a
bullet from a Spanish arquebuse. From this
voyage he came back beggared in and purse


not a little broken in health; to the end of
his days indeed he suffered much at times from
the fever that he contracted in those parts.
The year following that wherein Raleigh was
beheaded, came what seemed at the first sight
good news, namely, that the Bohemians had
bestowed the crown of their country upon the
Elector of Bavaria, husband to the Princess
Elizabeth, the king's daughter. Thereupon
there arose such a tumult of joy throughout the
country as the oldest man living scarce remem-
bered to have heard before. There was
nothing too good to be hoped for as about to
come from this promotion. Indeed, I have
heard my father say that he was himself pre-
sent when the Archbishop of Canterbury (Dr.
Abbott) preached a sermon wherein he declared
that this event was foretold in Scripture,
naming even the chapter and verse, which
were, if I remember right, in the Book of the
Revelation. My father was carried away with
the rest, and having, as may well be thought, a
special gift for choosing for his own that which
should be the losing side, forthwith took service
with the Elector, to whom King James, though


scarce approving of the cause, sent at this time
auxiliaries to the number of four thousand. In
this army my father had a captain's commis-
sion, with pay to the amount of four shillings
by the day-handsome wages, only that he
never received of them so much as a doit.
Nor did the campaign recompense the defect
of gains by any excess of glory. It was, indeed,
as barren of laurels as of gold; and my father,
who, being favourably known of old time by the
Princess, was appointed to command the guard
of the Elector, arrived in his Highness's com-
pany at the Hague without a penny in his
pocket, and scarce a coat to his back.
But now behold a turn of Fortune's wheel.
While he lingered in Holland, not from choice,
indeed, but from compulsion, seeing that he did
not possess the wherewithal to pay his passage
to England, came news of an inheritance that
had fallen to him, being nothing less-or, may
be, I should rather say, considering its poverty,
nothing more-than the family estate. This
fell to my father by the death of his two elder
brothers, who both expired of a fever on the
same day. And this day, so strangely do things


fall together in this world, was the very same as
that on which all his worldly hopes seemed to
have been overset, that is, the 8th of November,
in the year 1620, when the Elector Palatine was
utterly defeated by the Duke of Bohemia. My
father then, coming, as I have said, to Holland
this same winter with the Elector, there heard
of his inheritance, not, indeed, without some
natural regret for the cause that had brought it
to him, yet, because his brothers were older by
far, and akin by half-blood only, and strangers
by long interruption of acquaintance, not sorrow-
ful overmuch.
The said inheritance was, as may be gathered
from what has been written above, a mighty
poor thing, being, after all' debts and encum-
brances were paid, but of sixty pounds value by
the year at the most. Nevertheless, for a poor,
battered soldier that had no way to earn his
bread, 'twas by no means to be despised.
Veterans that have passed through the wars-
if my father, that was but just thirty years of
age, may be so called-do commonly love the
quietude of a country retreat (and it was thus
that Auogustus Caesar and others did reward


their legions); and my father affected this
manner of life as readily as did ever old soldier
in the world, and, being a man of useful parts,
he turned his sword into a ploughshare with
good result, and this not only of profit of
money, but of health also. Being thus set up,
both in body and estate, he took courage to
ask in marriage a maiden of those parts, Cicely
Harland by name. She was the daughter of a
gentleman that had a like estate with my father,
only it was without encumbrance, so that
Mistress Cicely was not ill-provided with a por-
tion. My father, whose name-for this I have
not yet mentioned was Philip Dashwood,
married Mistress Cicely Harland in the month
of September, 1623. Of this marriage were
born two children; first, my sister Dorothy, in
August, 1624, and secondly myself, a Philip
also, who came into this troublesome world on
Christmas Day, 1625, having as my birthright,
as the gossips say, the gift of seeing spirits,
though this I have never yet, to my knowledge,
enjoyed. My first teaching, save the very
rudiments which my dear mother did impart to
me, was from Master William Hearnden, par-


son of the parish, to which, indeed, he had been
presented by my father in the vacancy before
described. They had been close friends in
that luckless campaigning in Bohemia, where
Master Hearnden was chaplain to the English
regiment-ay, and on occasion also, I have
heard say, captain also; for he was, as the
country folk say, "a man of his hands." Not
the less was he a virtuous and godly clerk, and
a sound scholar also, and with a rare gift which
scholars, be they ever so sound, have not
always-of teaching that which he knew.
On January the 6th, 1633, being then twelve
days past my eighth birthday, I was entered of
the Merchant Taylors' School, at Laurence
Pountney, in the City of London, by the pre-
sentation of William Harford, kinsman to my
mother, that was one of the Court of the said
Company. Mr. Edwards was then master of
the school, and remained so during the time of
my continuance there.
At the first I lodged in the house of Master
William Rushworth, that was a merchant of
timber, and dwelt in the Strand, of whom and
of whose house more hereafter.


Within a few weeks of my coming I saw
what my elders told me was the finest spectacle
that had been seen in London within the
memory of man, that is, a mighty grand mas-
querade, with which the gentlemen of the four
Inns of Court entertained their Majesties King
Charles, and Henrietta of France, his Queen.
I was yet too much of a child to have any clear
understanding of what I saw, though the number
of men and horses, the splendour of scarlet and
purple, of gold and silver, and all the magnifi-
cence of the show made a notable mark on my
mind. But I heard much talk about it in after
times; and, indeed, till the late troubles came
upon the country, there was nothing of which
there was more frequent mention than of this
same masquerade. Thus it came to pass that,
filling up what I observed at the time with that
which I heard afterwards, I came to have such
a notion of the matter as might have been con-
ceived by one much older than I then was. If,
therefore, I may join together what was after-
wards told to me with what I remember of
myself, this masquerade was shown on Candle-
mas Day, which is the second day of February,


the procession starting from Chancery Lane
when it was now dusk. First came twenty
footmen in scarlet liveries, with silver lace, each
carrying a torch. These were the Marshal's
men that cleared the way, and with them came
the Marshal himself, an extraordinary proper
handsome gentleman, riding one of the King's
horses, with two lackeys, each carrying a torch,
and a page that bare his cloak. After these
came a hundred gentlemen, five and twenty
from each Inn of Court, riding on horses, the
finest that could be found in London, and
apparelled as bravely as men could be. After
these again came what was styled the anti-
masque, cripples and beggars on horseback,
mounted on the poorest, leanest jades that
could be gotten out of the dirt-carts and else-
where. These had their proper music of keys
and tongs, making the queerest noise that can
be imagined, but yet with a sort of concert.
Then followed another antimasque, this time of
birds. The first portion was men on horse-
back, playing on pipes and whistles, and other
instruments by which the notes of birds may
be imitated; the second was the birds them-


selves, among which I specially noted an owl
in an ivy bush. What these creatures were I
knew not at the time, but learnt afterwards
that they were little boys put into covers of
the shapes of the birds. After these came
that which pleased the people mightily, and at
which I laughed heartily myself, though not
knowing why: this was a satire on the pro-
jectors and monopolisers from whom the realm
had long suffered. First there was a man
riding on a very mean steed that had a great
bit in his mouth; and on the man's head was a
bit, with reins and headstall fastened to it, and
a petition written for a patent that no one in
the kingdom should ride their horses save with
such bits as they might buy of him. Second
to him was another with a bunch of carrots on
his head and a capon in his fist, and he had
a petition also for a patent, that none should
fatten capons save with carrots and by his
licence. Behind these came other horsemen,
and last of all four chariots, one for each Inn
of Court, these being the most splendid of all.
The King and Queen were so mightily pleased
with this pageant that they desired to see it


again. Thereupon the Lord Mayor invited
their Majesties to a banquet in the Merchant
Taylors' Hall, and the same masque was there
again performed, the procession having gone
eastward this time. And we scholars of the
school were privileged to see it from a gallery
that was set apart for us.



My sojourn with Master Rushworth was but
for a time. Accordingly some three days, or
thereabouts, after that I had been a spectator of
the lawyers' great masque, I changed my abode
to the house of one Mr. Timothy Drake, a
woollen draper, that dwelt upon London Bridge,
on the north side. Master Drake was bound to
my kinsman Master Harford, of whom I have
before spoken, by many obligations of benefits
received; and when the said uncle, being single
and well advanced in years, was unwilling to be
troubled with the charge of a child, Master
Drake gladly received me; not, I suppose,
without good consideration given. It was
judged to be more convenient for me to lodge
upon the bridge, which is but little more than a
stone's throw from the Merchant Taylors'
School, than in the Strand; nor was I unwilling


to go, but my sojourn there was but for a very
short time, as I shall presently show.
'Twas a marvellous place this same London
Bridge, more like, indeed, to a village than
a bridge, having on either side houses, some of
them being shops, as was that in which I dwelt,
and some taverns, and some private dwellings.
And about the middle of the bridge stood a
great building, which they called Nonesuch
House, very splendidly painted with colours,
and having wooden galleries hanging over the
river, richly ornamented with carving and
gilding. This Nonesuch House covered the
whole breadth of the bridge from the one side
to the other; and in the middle of it was an
arch with the road passing under it.
The bridge had, or, I should rather say, has
(for it still stands and will, I doubt not, stand
for many ages to come) twenty arches, of which
one is blocked. They are but small, the
purpose of the builder, Peter of Colechurch,
having been, it is said, thus to restrain the
ebbing of the tide, and so to make the river
above the bridge more easily navigable. I
should rather think, if I may say so much

*c-:-~~~--..- *-- .--.

OF Ila

L i :

-. ' .- r .... .

'I' -

HA.N 4 P7 yr

Lond-on B' ridge.
."Ii- :._ ._

' .. ----- ,....A : :. -___- _

Ea /ide


without wrong to the pious man, that in that
rude age (now near upon five centuries since)
he knew not how to build bigger. And being
thus small they are still further diminished by
the sterling that are built about the piers, to
keep them from damage by ice or floods. Thus
it came to pass that of nine hundred feet (for
such is the length of the bridge from end to
end) scarce two hundred remain for the water-
way. The consequence thereof is that when
the water is lower than the sterling it rushes
through the arches with a singular great
violence. How great it is may be judged
from this, that in some of the arches there is a
waterfall, so to speak, of as much as two feet,
when the tide is at its strongest; and this
strongest is when it is about half-spent, running
upwards; but why the flow should be stronger
than the ebb I know not, seeing that this latter
is increased by the natural current of the river.
I do remember, if I may delay those that shall
read this chronicle with such childish recol-
lections, how I marvelled at the first at this
same ebb and flow, of which I had never before
heard. On the first day of my coming to


Master Drake's house, being, as I remember,
the seventh day of February, I looked out
from my chamber window about half-past five of
the clock, and saw the Thames full to his banks
and flowing eastward, as by rights he should, it
being then but just past the flood. But the
next time that I chanced to cast my eyes on
him, the tide having but newly begun to flow,
lo! he was dwindled to half his span, and ran
westward. Of a truth I thought that there was
witchcraft, and, being a simple child, ran down
into my host's parlour, crying, What ails the
river that it is half-spent and runs the wrong
way ?" and was much laughed at for my pains.
I thought to have much pleasure from sojourn
in the house upon the bridge, and doubtless
should have had but for the sad mishap of
which I shall shortly speak. For indeed there
was much to be seen daily upon the river. On
the eastern side, looking, that is to say, towards
the sea, there were goodly ships from all parts
of the world, lading and unlading their cargoes,
for through the bridge none could go; nay,
the very wherries, for the violence of the
water, would not venture the passage save


at the highest or lowest of the tide; but
passengers were discharged on the one side and
took boat again on the other. And on the
western side there were the barges of my Lord
Mayor and of the richer of the Companies; and
barges of trade, carrying all manner of goods
and especially timber, both for building and
burning; and small boats almost without number,
both of private persons and of watermen that
plied for hire. And on occasions there were
races among the watermen and also among the
'prentices of the City. And there were other
sports, notably that of tilting upon the water, in
which the vanquisher would dismount the
vanquished, not indeed from his horse but from
his boat, and sometimes drive him into the
water, with no small laughter from the spectators.
The bridge also afforded another pastime, for
when the tide was so far ebbed that it was
possible to stand upon the sterling (which
were at other times covered with water) there
were many fishes to be caught, for these com-
monly resort where there is abundance of food
to be found, as must needs be in so great a
city as London. And if any cannot conceive


of the anglers' craft as practised in the midst
of such din and tumult, they may take as a
proof that the makers of anglers' tackle con-
gregate in Crooked Lane, which is hard by the
bridge, more than in any other place in
Being also a lad, for all my tender years, of
an active fancy and apt to muse by myself, and
to build castles in the air, or, as some say, in
Spain, for my delight, I did not forget the story
of Edward Osborne, that was 'prentice to Sir
William Hewet, clothworker, some time Lord
Mayor of London, how he leapt from the
window of one of the bridge houses, and saved
his master's daughter that had been dropped
into the river by a careless maid. All the
dwellers on the bridge have the story ready,
so to speak, on the tip of their tongues, as if it
were a credit to themselves ; nor would I dis-
courage the thought, for haply it might give
a lad boldness to venture his life in the like
gallant way. Hence, before I had been in the
house an hour they showed me the window
from which the said Edward leapt. All the
world knows, I suppose, how he afterwards


married this same daughter, and received with
her a great estate, and how he rose to great
prosperity, being Lord Mayor in the year I583,
and how his posterity are to this day persons
of great worship and renown, who will yet, if
I mistake not, rise higher in the state. 'Tis
true I was no 'prentice, nor had Master Drake
a daughter, save one that must have been forty
years of age at the very least; but what are
these hindrances to the fancy when it is minded
to disport in its own realms ?
But now for the mishap which scattered
these fancies and the hopes of other delights,
of which I have before spoken. I came, as I
have said, to sojourn with Master Drake on the
seventh day of February, being, as I remember,
a Thursday; and on the Monday following my
sojourn was ended. Near to Master Drake's
house dwelt Mr. John Briggs, a needle-maker
by trade, who was wont to keep up a brisk
fire for the carrying on of his craft. Thisbeing
maintained at a greater height and for a longer
time together than was customary, trade being
beyond ordinary brisk, heated the woodwork
adjoining, than which there is, as I conceive,


no more common cause of such mischief. This
at least, was conjectured at the time, for nothing
could be known of a certainty. What is
established is, that about ten of the clock at
night on Monday aforesaid, the fire began in
Mr. Briggs' house, and that so suddenly and
with such violence that he and his wife and
child, a maid of about four years (who, as
being of a more convenient age and size than
Mistress Tabitha Drake, I had resolved should
fall into the river and be saved by me) escaped
with their lives very hardly, having nothing on
but their shirts, and it may be said, the smoke,
so near did they come to being burned. Nor
were we in much better case, save that Master
Drake and his wife and daughter, having
entertained the parson of the parish to supper
('twas in the parish of St. Magnus the Martyr)
had not yet gone to bed. Thus they were able
not only to save themselves and me, who was
in bed and sound asleep, more easily, but also,
to carry off some of their chief possessions.
As for putting out of the fire, little or nothing
could be done. A man might have thought
that, the houses being on a bridge, there would


be sufficient water at hand to prevent a fire,
how great soever. But it was not so. By
ill-luck it happened that the river was at its
very lowest, so that the engines, of which there
were three, newly made, and much admired for
their excellence, could get no water from it,
and, indeed, were broken in the endeavour.
And when the conduits were opened, and the
pipes that carried water through the streets cut,
these also yielded but little water, so that
the fire raged almost without let or hindrance.
Yet such water as there was, was used to the
uttermost, men carrying the buckets up ladders,
which were set against the burning houses, and
pouring them upon the flames. From this,
indeed, came other damages, for the ladders
were burnt through, to the hurt of many, by
the breaking of their arms and legs, and even
to the loss of their lives. All that night and
the next day until noon the fire continued to
burn fiercely; nor did it stop till it came to the
first empty space upon the bridge; there it
was stayed for want of matter, the brewers'
men that were on the other side of the river
also helping by bringing abundance of water on


their drays and wetting the houses that
were yet unconsumed. There were forty-
three houses burned in all, being about the
third part of those that stood upon the bridge.
The road was so blocked by the ruins that,
though as many as had space to stand laboured
to carry away the timber and bricks, and tiles
and rubbish, none could pass over the bridge
before Wednesday, and there were remains of
the fire yet smouldering on the Tuesday follow-
ing, as I learned to my cost, having on that
day burnt my finger with a live coal of fire
which I took up in my hand.
By God's mercy, the night was warm, or else
the inhabitants that were ousted so suddenly
from their homes had suffered much. It was
still, also, a matter for which we are yet more
bound to be thankful; for had the wind, which
was, indeed, from the south, and so blew
towards the City, been strong, London itself
would have been much endangered, the more
so as the traders in Thames Street have much
pitch, tar, rosin, oil, and other inflammable
goods in their houses. Indeed, were I minded
to prophesy, I should say that some day, there


will arise in this very part of London, for
nowhere is the peril greater, such a conflagra-
tion as has never been seen in the world;
save only, it may be, when Rome was set on
fire by that mad Cesar, Nero.
As for myself, I found shelter, for the time,
with my kinsman, Master Harford, in his fine
mansion, hard by the Church of Saint Peter
on Cornhill. Whether he would have kept me
now that his scheme of lodging me with Master
Drake had fallen through, I cannot say; but, if
he ever entertained any such purpose, it was
shortly dismissed by reason of my behaviour.
'Twas, as I have said, a fine mansion, Master
Harford being one of the wealthiest merchants
in London, and the table kept proportionate
thereto. There was no mistress of the house,
Master Harford being, as I have said, a
bachelor, but a housekeeper, Joan Fuller by
name, a kind woman, and knowing in all the
knowledge of the store-room and kitchen, but
otherwise of scant sense. She, having none on
whom to bestow her affections, save a cat and a
dog, took a mighty favour to me, which favour
she showed in the fashion that she herself


would have most approved, if I may say so much
without unkindness to the memory of one that
is now deceased; for she plied me, both in
season and out of season, with all manner of
dainty meats, so that in the space of eight days
or thereabouts I fell sick. 'Twas no great
matter, only a sickness as would come to any
child that had been so dealt with, and was easily
set right by the apothecary's medicines, which,
to my mind, so nauseous were they, did more
than outweigh all the pleasure of my dainty
feeding; but it settled Master Harford in his
intention to lodge me elsewhere than in his
own house. Master Drake could not entertain
me any more, having to be content with scant
lodging for himself and his wife and daughter.
Nor was there any talk of building up the houses
again; and this, indeed, was not done for more
than thirteen years after the burning; but the
sides of the bridge where they had been were
covered in with boarding. So it came about
that I was sent back to my first lodging with
Master Rushworth, in the Strand.
He was, as I have said, a merchant of timber,
and had his house in the Strand, on the north


side, with a yard on the other side of the street,
in which he stored his goods and did his buying
and selling. In this I was free to play as
much as suited my liking, and here also I found
great delights, of which the chief, I think, was
the discovery that the captain of one of the
barges which brought him timber was a certain
William Beasley, of Oxford, who had served
my father as bailiff and fisherman, and in other
employment, as many as a single pair of his
hands could discharge. With him I had much
talk, and always counted this talk very precious,
it being chiefly of home matters, so that only
the actual going thither could by any means be
more to be desired.




I WAS well content both with my lodging at
Master Rushworth's, though I thought, doubtless
for want of grace, he was too puritanically in-
clined, and with the school. Our good parson had
grounded me so well in the rudiments of Latin
that I took at the first a place beyond my years;
and I used such diligence and ability, if I may
say so much of myself, that I lost not this advan-
tage afterwards. Twice in the year there was
held an examination of the scholars, or, as they
call it, probation; and they that acquit them-
selves well therein are nominated to a higher
place. This promotion I never failed to gain,
save the first time only, when I had been but
three months in the school, and this in a form
which had none other so young as I. I do
believe, indeed, that even then I had earned
promotion; but the usher kept me back of set
purpose, thinking this to be the best for me, for
which kindness, though it angered me at the time,


I have since been most grateful. In the end it
served me well, for, not to be tedious by dwell-
ing over long on such matters, I had obtained at
the first probation of 1636, of which year I shall
shortly have more to say, a most excellent place
in the school, being promoted into the fourth
form, in which there was not, I remember, one
scholar but had, at the least, six months more
of age than myself.
But now there came a most grievous inter-
ruption, not to me only, which had been but
a small matter, but to the prosperity of the
whole nation. In the third year of my school-
ing (that is to say 1635) the plague broke
out with no small violence in the City. And
though it abated somewhat in the winter, as
it commonly does, the cold seeming to dis-
courage it, so that 'twas hoped it would depart
altogether, yet in the year following, so soon as
the spring-time began, it grew to such a height
as had never before been known, so far as the
memory of living man could reach. But there
had been worse before, the Black Death, to
wit, which left, 'twas said, scarce a tenth part
of the people alive, and the Sweating sickness


in the days of King Henry VIII. From this
visitation the school suffered greatly. I do
not say that many scholars actually perished of
the sickness, for of these there were not, I
take it, more than three or four at the most.
But our numbers were sadly finished; for
none came from the country, parents fearing
to send their children into the midst of so
deadly an infection, and of the London scholars
also many were kept at home, lest, mixing
with their fellows, they should either take the
disease or convey it upon their clothes. It
was a dismal sight to see the classes grow
smaller, I may say, day after day. And when
any boy was seen to be absent, there were
rumours that he was dead of the plague;
and though these, as I have said, were, for the
most part, not true, yet we that remained
were not the less troubled. At the last, when
our numbers had dwindled down to a third or
thereabouts of the full, came down an order from
the Court that the school be shut. And this
was done on the seventeenth of May, 1636.
I remember that we heard this news with
a great shout of joy ; for boys would rejoice in


holiday though it should be brought about
by the ending of the world; and now there
was prospect of such a holiday as never had
been known; and indeed the scholars were not
again assembled together for the space of a
year and five months, though Mr. Edwards,
the chief master, taught some boys during that
whole time, lest the school altogether ceasing
to be, its property should be diverted elsewhere.
But I was too young to be one of these.
As for myself, there was no small question-
ing what had better be done with me. My
father indeed, as soon as there was talk of the
school being shut up, had sent word that I
should come home to him. But this was not
easy to be done. For there was great fear
throughout the country lest travellers from
London should bring the infection of the
disease with them, so that the roads were dili-
gently watched, and all that were suspected of
hailing thence were forthwith sent back, some-
times not without much maltreatment. This
being so the river was the only highway that was
left open. On this travellers were not hindered,
provided only that they did not go forth from


their boat into the villages round about. And
by this highway I did in the end return home.
On the eleventh of June, for I remember
that it was election day at the school, though
the customary festivities were intermitted by
reason of the plague, comes Richard Beasley
with his barge, having with him a load of
timber, and what I counted of more worth by
far, the commandment from my father that I
should return with him. And this I did about
a sennight after, when he had finished the un-
loading of his cargo. We were six days on
our journey, and I think that I never had so
delightful a time. First it was no small joy to
be quit for a tile of London, which was in-
deed in those days a most dreadful place. None
were seen in the streets save such as had urgent
business; and these walked at such speed as if
death were after them, (as indeed in a sense it
was,) holding a handkerchief or pomander with
some scent, recommended by the faculty, to their
noses, as a safeguard against infection. As for
the gallants in their brave attire and the fair
matrons and damsels that had been wont to
throng the public ways, they were invisible,

and the church bells never gave forth a merry
peal, but were tolling continually, till indeed this
was forbidden as augmenting the terror of the
citizens.. And there passed continually along
the streets the funerals of the wealthier sort of
people and their families. But as for the poorer,
the dead-cart carried them to their burying
places, and this I, lying awake at night, have
often heard rumbling awfully along, and also
the cry of the men asking, whenever they saw
a house shut up, whether there was anything for
them. And I must confess, though it be to my
discredit, that Master Rushworth and his wife
wearied me with over long exercises of prayer
such as they thought fitted for the occasion, not
remembering my tender years. It may easily be
concluded therefore that I was sufficiently glad
to depart from London. And for the journey
itself, it was, as 1 have said, delightful beyond all
compare. We set out on the nineteenth of June,
being, as I remember, a Saturday, for Robert,
though he had all things ready, would not begin
his journey on a Friday, a scrupulousness at
which I was not a little offended, being above
all things desirous to depart. That night we
Z7 Z11


lay at Richmond, and the day following also,
being a Sunday, on which day William Beasley
was steadfast not to travel. He would say that,
if a man cared not for his own soul, knowing it
not to be worth a groat, he should have regard
to his beast, which must be priced at twenty
shillings at the least.
We travelled without any mischance save that
at Bray, where the river is more than ordinary
shallow, William Beasley's son having had the
rudder in charge, ran the barge on a shoal,
and would have had a great whipping from his
father but that I took the blame on myself;
which was indeed but fair, for I was distracting
the lad with my talk when he needed all his
wits for his work. At some of the ferries we
had to serve ourselves, for the ferrymen would
not venture themselves near to those that
might be bringing, as they thought, the infec-
tion of the disease from London. And when we
would buy anything from the town and villages,
as eggs and milk, or the like, we left the money
at an appointed place (the custom having
grown up in former visitations), dropping it into
a bowl of water; and the country folk after-


wards brought their goods. And then, with a
"God save you!" given and returned, we
went on our way. 'Twas a doleful thing to be so
shunned, as if we had been lepers; yet I could not
blame the people, knowing that the plague had
been carried down from London to the utter
destruction of many villages. For a village, if it
once take the infection, will often, for lack of
ministration to the sick, suffer worse than the
town. But once only did the riverside people
show us any hostility; and this was at Walling-
ford, where they stoned us from the bridge,
but without doing any considerable hurt.
But notwithstanding these incommodities,
'twas a most delightsome time such as I have
ever remembered with pleasure, and shall re-
member so long as life be left to me. I have
seen evil days since then-Thames running red
with civil blood, if I may so speak, and all this
fair land of England disturbed with the strife of
brothers fighting against brothers. But these
days had not then come; and if there were
signs and tokens of the storms that were gather-
ing, and such doubtless there were for them that
had discerning eyes. I was too young to take


note of them. And I was newly come from a
city where there was but little talk of aught but
pestilence and death, and doleful sights and
sounds about me on every side, so that the
country scenes, full of gladness and life, into
which I had, as it were, escaped, were the more
exceedingly delightful. Nor is there, methinks,
a fairer thing in England, when one is once
past the environs of the city, than Thames, nor
any season in which Thames is more to be ad-
mired than that early summer in which we were
then journeying. For the trees are in their
fullest leaf and not yet withered at all by
the heat, and the river banks are bright with
flowers, as the forget-me-nots and the flags,
both yellow and purple, and the water-plants,
of more kinds than I can name, gay with
blossom; also one may see the water-hens and
the grebes, leading about their newly hatched
broods, and the swans, carrying on their backs
their cygnets, whose brown plumes show forth
tenderly from out the silvery white, and the
halcyons with their comely colours of green
and red, carrying food to their young. All these
and many more things that I have not the wit


duly to describe did I see and note, young though
I was, during our voyage.
Also as we went along William Beasley
would cast a bait-a moth, may be, or a slug, or
sometimes, to my no small wonder, a morsel of
cheese-under the boughs that hung over the
water, and draw out thence mighty big cheven-
ders, or, as some call them, chubs. This he
did with a most dexterous hand; ay, and having
caught them, he would cook them no less skil-
fully, so that this fish, which I have since found
to be tasteless, made as dainty meat as could be
desired; or was it that the flavour was not in the
dish but in its surroundings ? And when we
had accomplished our journey for the day, he
would prepare an angle for me, and teach me to
catch roaches and perches. And once, I re-
member, when I was pulling to me a roach that
was on the hook, a pike of some six or seven
pounds laid hold upon him, and would not let
go, so bold and ravenous was he. And William
Beasley, in the deftest manner that ever I be-
held (and I have seen the same thing oft
attempted since, but never accomplished), put a
hand-net under the beast, and brought him in.


And he would have it, being one of the kindest
hearts that ever lived, that I had caught the
pike. And we had a greatfeast off him; 'twas ex-
cellent meat, white and firm, though somewhat
weedy, said William ; but I noted nothing amiss.
Near to Oxford my father met me, and carried
me home, where I lived with much content until
the time when, as I have said, the Merchant
Taylors' School was opened again, a space of
fifteen months and more. 'Twas not lost time
so far as learning was concerned, for our good
parson took me in hand again and taught me.
And, indeed, he had been teaching my sister
Dorothy, so that she was a match, ay, and more
than a match, for me, being both older and of
a nimbler wit. But being the tenderest soul
alive, and fearing that I should be grieved if she
outstripped me too far, she would hold back;
and I, thinking that I could vanquish her, and
being sometimes by her suffered so to do, did
my utmost. Verily I believe that I had not
learned more at the school itself, though my
preceptors there were diligent both with the
voice and the rod, in which latter instrument of
learning they had such faith as Solomon himself,


who, methinks, has much affliction of youth to
answer for, could not have excelled. Nor did I
gain in learning only, but also in strength of
body and health, in which, haply, I had fared ill
had I been cooped within the City walls.
In the year 1643-for that I be not tedious to
them that shall read this history I shall say no
more of my schooldays-I, being then eighteen
years of age and not unfit, if I may say so much
of myself, to compare with the best scholars of
the said school, did hope for my election to a
vacancy in the College of St. John the Baptist
at Oxford. But of this hope I was disappointed,
not altogether, methinks, of my own fault. It
came about in this manner. About the begin-
ning of May comes a letter from the President
and Fellows of the College, wherein they write
that they dare not, by reason of the troubles of
the times, venture so far as to come to London
that they might take part, as their custom was,
in the election of scholars to their College. So
it turned out, to cut the matter short, that the
Company held the said election privately by
themselves. Now my uncle, Master Harland
aforesaid, died about this time; and as during


his life he had been somewhat masterful, ruling
most things according to his pleasure, so now,
being dead, there was, so to speak, a turn of
the tide against him and his, by which turn
I suffered. They also to whom I looked for
help, to wit the President and Fellows of St.
John's College, were absent for the cause that I
have already set forth. And so it happened that
when it came to the election I had but two
voices. And this I say not by way of complaint
against them that ordered the election, nor of
murmuring against God, but because I desire to
set forth what befell me, and, as far as I can,
the causes of the same. As for murmuring, in-
deed, I doubt much whether I lost any great
profit in this matter, though I will confess that it
was at the time no small disappointment and
bitterness. For the same cause that hindered
the Fellows of the College from coming to
London, hindered also the scholars that were
then elected from going to Oxford; so that it
was a long time before they were admitted to
their preferment. And, in truth, when they
were admitted, it was but an unprofitable
matter, for the College was almost at the point


of dissolution for lack of means, many of its
tenants not being able to pay their rents, and
some that had the ability making pretence of the
troubles of the times to cover their dishonesty.
And thus my schooldays came to an end.




I HAVE said but little hitherto of our civil
troubles; and, indeed, they touched us but lightly
within the walls of our school. I had almost
said that they did but give a new name to our
sports; for whereas our factions-such as a
school commonly has-had before called them-
selves by the names of Greeks and Trojans, or
Romans and Carthaginians, according as
Homer or Livy were most in our hands, so
now we were King's men and Parliament's
men, or Rebels, as we that were of the loyal
faction would often style these latter. But it
must be confessed that there was something
beyond the ordinary of veritable anger in these
combats; so that once or twice the partisans
appeared in their places in school with broken
heads or other damage, and would doubtless
have so done more often but for fear of our


master, Mr. Edwards, who did mete out a most
severe and impartial justice to all that presumed
to disturb the peace of his realm. The City
folk were for the most part friends to the
Parliament, and their faction had the majority
of the scholars. Yet the King, too, had those
that stood stoutly by him; of whom I, being
tall and strong and expert in all bodily exercises,
was chosen to be the leader. I do remember
what a fierce battle we had on the fifth day of
January, in the year 1642, which was the day
following that on which the King would have
seized the five members. So hot were we
about it that we noted not our master coming
upon us and finding us inflagrante delicto. A
battle of the bees, says Virgil, is stayed by the
throwing of a little dust, and we were pacified
by the first sound of his voice; and, indeed,
though I have had experience of sundry sights
and sounds of terror, I know nothing so terrible
as the voice of a schoolmaster, so he be one
that hath what all have not, the true secret of
rule. He had noted down the names of all the
chief combatants before we were aware of him;
nor did one of them escape due punishment.


As for myself, being, as I suppose, of such an
age, and may be strength that I could scarce be
flogged, he set me to English the first book of the
Pharsalia of Lucan, which treats, as all know,
of the civil wars of Rome. 'Tis choice verse,
doubtless, but passing difficult-or so at least I
found it-and gave me but scant leisure between
Epiphany-tide ('twas on the fifth day of January
that the tumult was) and the beginning of Lent,
a space of near upon two months. So much,
then, for our mimicries of war. But now,
coming home-which I did not long after my
hopes at the school had been, as I have said,
disappointed-I found the reality. And, indeed,
on my journey, which was not accomplished
without peril, I had seen something of it. For
coming by way of Thame-which I was advised
was to be preferred because some troopers of
the Prince Rupert lay at Fawley near to Henley-
upon-Thames and harried all travellers with
small respect of parties-and staying to bait my
horse at the inn, I heard that a notable man was
lying dead in one of the chambers. ('Twas
Midsummer Day, I remember.) This was Master
John Hampden, who had been shot in the


shoulder upon Chalgrove Field six days before,
and being carried to Thame died there on the
very day on which I chanced to pass through.
His name had been much in men's mouths, and
was not a little regarded even by them who
judged him to have erred (of which number was
I); and it troubled me not a little to hear that
he had been slain, though he was an enemy to
the King. I had heard before of such things,
and, indeed, at Edgehill, where the King's men
and the army of the Parliament under my Lord
Essex had fought with doubtful success,
thousands had been slain and wounded; but
now I saw death close at hand for the first
time; and it moved me mightily.
I found my father greatly discomposed,
though at first he sought to hide his trouble
by jest and banter. The first evening after
my coming, as we sat by the fire, for he was
one that even at midsummer would have a fire
be it ever so small, he smoking his pipe, which
was a custom he had learned of the Germans, he
began thus with me:
I am for the King, as you well know, son
Philip; but wouldd be well if you could be


persuaded in your conscience that the Parliament
has the right."
I could say nothing, being struck dumb, so to
speak, with astonishment. Then he went on:
"'Tis the fashion hereabouts to order things
in this way, and has been since these present
troubles began, as doubtless you would have
known but for being away in London. See
now there is Master Holmes at Upcott, t'other
side of the river; he is for the Parliament, and
Geoffrey his son is for the King; and Sir
William Tresham, of Parton, is a staunch
Cavalier, but William Tresham the younger
e'en as staunch a Roundhead."
"Nay, father," said I, finding my tongue at
last, I cannot conceive that I should be found
different from you in this matter."
Then he laughed and said: Your schooling
has not made your wits as nimble as might have
been looked for. Dost not see how the matter
stands ? If the King prevail, no harm shall
befall Upcott, for is not Geoffrey loyal ? nor any
if the Parliament get the better, seeing that
Master Holmes himself hath ever been zealous
for it. And for Sir William, 'tis but the same


story told the other way. Master Tresham goes
in the new ways, but the good knight his
father loves the old; and it cannot but be that
the one or the other is in the right. What
say you ? I am too old to change, and the
world would wonder if, when I have fought
for his Majesty's house, I should now turn
against him; but you have been brought up
among the citizens, with whom he is, I am told,
in but small favour. Shall we make a Master
Doubleface between us, and make the inherit-
ance sure whatever may befall ? "
What I should have said I know not, for
though the matter of his speech was utterly
strange to me, he showed no token but of being
utterly serious; but I must have showed some
distemper in my face, for before I could answer,
he broke in upon me:
Nay, son Philip, answer not. 'Tis enough.
I did ill to jest on such a matter, which is indeed
too serious for any words but those of soberness.
Come, let us take counsel together. To live
here is a thing past all enduring, at least for any
man that cares not to run with the hare and
hunt with the hounds. An I could welcome


the Parliament's men one day and the King's
men the next, I might make a good profit out
of both, and so fare well. But such is not to
my taste. My purpose then is to put my sword
to the grindstone again, and to take service with
the King. I am not what I was, but I am not
too old to strike a blow for the good cause.
The farm I shall leave to John Vickers. 'Tis
an honest man enough, but he cares not, I do
believe in my heart, one groat for King or
Parliament, so that he gets in the hay and corn
without damage of blight or hindrance of
weather. I have made a covenant with him,
not in writing, but by word of mouth-for be he
not honest, as indeed I do trust he is, writing
will not bind him more than speech-that he
shall pay so much by the year, according as the
price of corn shall be. 'Twill be, as I reckon,
about eighty pounds; of this I shall keep twenty
for my own use, so that I shall not need to
trouble the King's chest, which has, I take it,
enough, and more than enough, to do. Your
mother's portion is in the hands of Nicholas
Barratt, a maltster of Reading, who pays six
pounds per centum, making thirty pounds by


the year in all. And this, with the residue of
that which comes from John Vickers she must
make suffice for herself and your sister Dorothy
and you. And now for yourself."
At that I brake in: That matter is soon
sped. My place is nowhere but with my
"Nay," said he, "you have forgotten half
the commandment, which runs: 'Honour thy
father and thy mother.' Thy mother and sister
must needs dwell in Oxford, and I should not
be content to leave them there without some
man of their kindred to take their part. I
doubt neither the loyalty nor the courage of
those that serve his Majesty, but there are
not a few among them that are somewhat loose
of life, which is, indeed, but too common a fault
of soldiers. You will soon see for yourself that
a fair maid, such as is your sister Dorothy, could
scarce stir abroad had she not you to bear her
company, nor would I have you at your age in
a camp; 'tis not a place for a lad, as you still
are, for all your inches and broad shoulders.
'Tis the time for learning and fitting yourself for
your work in life; for these wars will come to an


end some day, though I doubt not that they
will last so long that this realm shall be almost
brought to ruin. And what would you do,
being left at two or three and twenty years
of age, having learnt nothing and forgotten
much, and 'all thy occupation gone,' as Will
Shakespeare hath it ?"
It matters not what I said in answer to this.
I did not yield at once, but debated the matter
for awhile, being thus disappointed of my hope.
But 'twas all to no purpose, for my father was
resolute, and I could not but acknowledge in
my heart that he had the right.
The next day, therefore, my mother and
sister having for some time past bestirred them-
selves to get all things ready for removal, we
left our home and journeyed to Oxford, lodging
for a time at the Maideznead, which is a tavern
opposite to Lincoln College, till we could find a
convenient dwelling in the town. This was no
easy matter, for Oxford was full, it may be said
to overflowing, with courtiers and soldiers. But
at last, by the kindness of Mistress Wood,
widow of Thomas Wood, that had died the
year before, having been always a good friend


to my father, we found a little house not far
from Merton College. 'Twas but a poor place,
having only two chambers with one parlour and
a kitchen, with no garden but a little yard only
(a thing which troubled the women folk much,
not only because it stinted them of air and
exercise, the streets being scarce fit for them to
walk in, but because they were constrained to
buy such trifles as parsley and mint, and every-
thing, though but the veriest trifle, that was
needed for the household). Yet we were right
glad to find even this shelter, having almost
begun to despair; and, indeed, we scarce suffered
the former occupiers, the widow and daughter
of a King's officer, newly slain in the wars, to
depart before we filled their places, so fearful
were we lest someone else should be beforehand
with us. Nor indeed, for very shame, could we
complain, seeing that Mistress Wood lived in a
house that was scarce better than ours, her own
having been given up to my Lord Colepepper,
Master of the Rolls. Nor was it a slight
matter that this narrow dwelling suited our
shallow purse, for shallow it was when money
was so scarce and all articles of provision so


dear as we found them to be in Oxford. And
here let me say that neither did Master Barratt
fail to pay interest on my mother's fortune, nor
John Vickers his yearly rent, most scrupulously
calculated according to the current price of
corn. The worthy man also did send my
mother many gifts of fruit and butter, and fowls
and game in its season, so that although we had
no superfluity, we never lacked, but could give
to many that needed. Of these, indeed, there
was no small number in Oxford, some of them
being persons of good estate, that, having less
honest tenants than John Vickers, could get no
return of rent from their lands.
Me my father entered at Lincoln College,
with the Rector of which, Dr. Paul Hood, he
had a friendship (or I should rather say an
acquaintance) of old standing. By good fortune
it happened that the place of one of the four
Trappes scholars fell empty beyond expec-
tation, the scholar having taken service with
the King and being killed in battle. The news
came on the very day of my entering, and as I
had gained some credit by answering, and much
praise from them that examined me, and no


one else desired the place, the vacancy being, as
I have said, without expectation, I was chosen
to it by a unanimous voice. 'Twas no great
matter, fifty-two shillings by the year only; but
'twas, nevertheless, a welcome promotion.




'TWAs a stirring time at Oxford when I first
began my residence in the University. The
King had there his headquarters, and there
was scarce a day but messengers came bearing
news, good or bad, of the war that was being
carried forward in every part of England.
Also a Parliament sat-I speak now of the first
year of my residence, that is to say from
October, 1643, to the same month of the year
following-at which were present some hundred
and fifty, reckoning both Commoners and Peers.
But of these matters I shall say more hereafter;
at the present I will speak rather of things
concerning my own College.
Lincoln College is a fair building, of an
honourable antiquity, there being six Colleges
only that are older than it and ten that are of


newer date, but it has only a poor estate, its
first founder having died before he could fulfil
his purpose, and other benefactors, for such
have not been wanting to us, not wholly
making good his unwilling defect. Its chief
ornament is the chapel, which is in the Gothic
style (a style, in my judgment, much to be
preferred to the Italian novelty which many
in these days prefer), fairly lined with cedar,
and illustrated with windows most hand-
somely painted. These windows were brought
from Italy at the instance of the builder, Dr.
Williams, sometime Bishop of Lincoln and
Lord Keeper, whose liberality in this matter
is the more to be commended because he is
not even of this University, but visitor only
of the College in right of his bishopric. My
chamber was under the roof at the top of
the chapel staircase, and had a fair prospect
of the church of All Saints, which, in a sort,
belongs to the College, and of that part of the
town which lies toward the river.
On the first day of November, being All
Saints' Day, we-that is to say, all the mem-
bers of the College then residing, from the


Rector to the Clerks-walked in solemn pro-
cession to this church, where prayers were said,
and a sermon preached by Master Richard
Chalfont, the Sub-Rector, the Rector, to whom
the duty of this discourse more properly
belongs, pleading inability by reason of illness;
but 'tis thought that 'twas an excuse rather than
a reason, and that, being a prudent man, as was
most abundantly proved by his keeping his pre-
ferment through all the changes of the times,
he chose rather to be silent in so critical a
juncture of affairs. We looked for a discourse
on political matters from Master Chalfont, who
was very hot for the King; but he preached
on no such subject, but on the pleasures which
shall be enjoyed in heaven. Some thought the
theme ill-chosen, but others, to whose opinion
I incline, greatly commended this choice, saying
that of politics we hear enough, and more than
enough, in the market-place, and that higher
things are more befitting the sanctuary. 'Twas
a most academical discourse. I remember he
told us that we should there, among other good
things, find repaired all damages that time or
accident has made in the remains of antiquity,


reading, for example, the comedies of Eupolis,
a contemporary, but elder, of Aristophanes,
which have been most lamentably lost, and
such books of Livy and Tacitus as are wanting
to the manuscripts, and solving also problems
of geometry and algebra which are beyond our
present skill. I thought that many of the
auditors listened to these prognostications with
blank faces, as thinking, doubtless, that they had
here upon earth more than a sufficiency of such
The day was kept as a high day in the College,
provision beyond the ordinary being made both
for dinner and supper in the hall. There was
no lack of jollity, though I heard some com-
plain, in a doubtful manner, of the change
which had been wrought since the last Gaudy
(for such is the name, being short for gaaudea-
mzts, which they give to this festivity) was held.
Then there had been a goodly show of plate,
none drinking save out of silver; but this was
now all gone, being melted down for the pay
of his Majesty's soldiers, and our cups were
of earthenware.
On Shrove Tuesday, which, in the year 1644


(to which I am now come), fell on the second
day of March, there was held what, if I may
borrow a word from a venerable custom of
antiquity, may be styled the initiation of the
Freshmen. The fire in the hall was made
earlier than ordinary; the Fellows also went to
supper before six, and made an end sooner than
at other times, so leaving the hall to the liberty
of the undergraduates, but not without an
admonitory hint given by the Sub-Rector, as
having charge of the discipline of the College
that all things should be carried on in good
order. While they were at supper in the hall,
the cook was making hot caudle at the charge
of the Freshmen, who, I should have said, are
all that have come into the University since the
Shrove Tuesday last before. (Caudle, I should
say, for the sake of those that are not learned
in such matters, is a drink made of oatmeal
flour, mixed in water, with sherry wine.) This
being ready, and all the undergraduates and
servants being assembled in the hall, each
Freshman, in his turn, according to his seniority,
was constrained to make a speech, but not with-
out preparation, for notice was given that it


would be required of him on Candlemas Day.
First, he plucked off his gown and bands, and
made himself look as like a low fellow as he
could; some, I must needs confess, acquitting
themselves in this respect with much success.
This done, he made his speech, being placed on
a form, which was set on the high table, touch-
ing with such wit as he was master of on the
persons and characters of his brother Freshmen
and on the servants of the College, the latter
more especially, being a game at which the
very feeblest hawks could fly. If he did well,
speaking in an audible voice, and with a good
fluency of words and passable matter, there
was given him a cup of caudle, and no salted
drink; if he did indifferently, neither ill nor
well, some caudle and some salted drink; but if
he was dull, or halted in his speech, then he had
nothing but salted drink; that is to say, beer, with
salt therein, and tucks- to boot. This done, the
senior cook administered to him an oath, which
began thus: Item tu jurabis, quod penidless
bench non visitabis," but the rest I forget. As
for penniless bench," 'tis a seat by St. Martin's
A "tuck" was a pinch, given with finger and thumb under
the lip, and sometimes drawing blood.


Church (which is called also Carfax), where
the hucksters and butter-women sit. This oath
each Freshman took over an old shoe, which
when he had kissed with due solemnity, he 1put
on again his gown and bands, and was duly
admitted into the worshipful company of seniors.
This was doubtless but foolish work, though I
doubt me much whether now, when we are so
far wiser that all such festivities are forbidden,
we be much better. I trust, at the least, that
none will think the worse of me if I boast that
I did my fooling so graciously that the cup that
was given to me was of caudle only, and no
admixture of salt.
Such sportiveness is to be looked for in the
young; and, indeed, did their gay temper and
light heart lead them no further than into such
diversions, there were small cause for blame ;
it may be alleged also, there was something
academical, though turned to purposes of mirth, in
these our enforceddisputings. So much may not
be said of all the sports to which the younger sort
were addicted. Some were given to the fight-
ing of cocks, a barbarous thing in my judgment,
though long custom has appropriated it to the


last day before Lent, so that some would think
the world itself shaken in its foundations were
this absent; but, be it good or bad, 'twill be
acknowledged that 'tis not a seemly thing for
the quadrangle of a College, where I have seen
it practised, and that not once or twice only.
The baiting of badgers also with terrier dogs
was much followed. As for hunting the fox, it
was interrupted by the war; for who could
follow the chase when he was like to find the
King's men in one village and the Parliament's
soldiers in the next ? So the war brought peace,
I may say, to the foxes; but the hares and
partridges had little rest, for the disturbed times
gave excuse to many for carrying fire-arms,
which they could use, as occasion served, for
their own purposes. But who could know
whether a musket were loaded with a bullet
that might kill a man, or with small shot that
might bring down a beast or a bird? And
if 'twas a bullet that it bore, what was to hinder
it being used against a fat hart or a roebuck ?
The keepers of game had, I take it, an ill time
in these days; indeed, their occupation was in
many places wholly given up. And if such


abuses have commonly been found among the
scholars of the University, now they prevailed
tenfold more. But of this more in its proper place.
But what shall be said of the seniors, the
Masters of Arts. Before I came to Oxford I
had thought, in my simplicity, that these were
all grave and reverend persons, given to books
and study, that, as our new poet, Master John
Milton, has it, did outwatch the Bear;" but I
soon learnt to think otherwise; and here I will
take leave to tell a true tale, from which may be
seen how some of these reverend seniors did
demean themselves. But that there were grave
and pious men even in the worst times I shall
not deny.
There was in the College a certain Master of
Arts, by name Thomas Smith, a violent person,
who had been admonished and punished for
diverse offences and disorders, of which it was
counted not the least heinous that he kept does
in his chamber, and would neither remove them
nor himself when warned by the Rector so to
do. Master Smith had a quarrel, in which
private enmity was doubtless aggravated by
public differences, with another Master of Arts,


also dwelling in the College, by name Nicholas
North, and a minister. They had had diverse
failings out in time past, but the gravest of all,
by reason of which Master Smith came near to
being expelled from the College (and doubtless
had been so but for the favour of some Fellows
that were of his way of thinking in matters of
Church and State), was this. It will be best
told in their own words, as I afterwards found
it written down; and first for Master North's
On Monday night, immediately after I had
supped in the buttery, going in the new
quadrangle, I heard a door shut, and thinking
it had been mine, said to him that came forth,
'Who is there?' Master Smith answered, 'Who
are you that examine me ?' I replied, I do
not examine you.' He said, 'You are a base
rogue for examining me.' When I heard him
say so, fearing he would fall upon me, I hasted
with all the speed I could to my chamber ; but,
as I opened the door, Master Smith caught hold
of my gown and said, Sirrah! Come out;
you are a base rogue for examining me!' Said
I, You cannot prove me such. I pray you let


me go; I have nought to say to you.' Ay,'
said he, 'but I have something to say to you ;'
and taking me by the ear and hair of the head
with one hand, he plucked out a cudgel that
was under his gown, and making into the
chamber upon me, struck me with the cudgel
upon the head. About the third blow it broke
in two. After that he struck me half-a-dozen
blows with that piece he had in his hand, and
when I wrested this out of his hand he laid me
about the face with his fist. There being two
in my chamber, I asked them whether they
were not ashamed to see me beaten in my own
chamber, and would not call company to take
him off. After a while came Master Chalfont*
running in and took him off from me, and three
several times did Master Smith call me 'base
rogue' and run in upon me, and was taken off
three times by Master Chalfont; and when I
entreated him to go out of my chamber he
called me a base, inferior rogue, and would not
go out till he had every piece of his stick."
Now for Master Smith's story:
SThis Richard Chalfont was expelled in the year 1648. He
was ministertothe company of English Merchants in Rotterdam.


Coming out of my chamber on Monday
night, about seven of the clock, I met Master
North coming forth from his chamber. He said,
'What are you, sir ?' I answered, 'What is
that to you ?' He drew me to his chamber
door. I asked him why he used me so. He
said that I had taken something out of his
chamber. I told him that he was an unworthy
man, and I would make him know himself;
and Master North being within his chamber,
dared me to fall on him, saying 'Strike me if
thou durst! Then I perceived a bed-staff in
his gown sleeve, he holding the little end in
his hand and the great end downwards. There-
upon, having a stick in my hand, I struck at
him, and hitting him on the top of the head,
broke the stick in pieces."
Here Master Smith was questioned how he
came to have a stick, which it is against
rule and custom to carry. He said, I was
newly come out of town from the company of
some friends, and by the way was jostled from
the walk by two scholars, and having shortly to
return, not knowing whether I might be abused
again, took the stick under my gown."


Further, in answer to Master North, he said,
" I do not absolutely know whether I did after
strike him in his chamber, but might have so
done, partly by heat of passion and ill-language
that was given me, and partly defending
There was no small discussion about this
matter, but in the end Master Smith was com-
manded to pay ten pounds to Master North for
the wrong done to him (of which sum Master
North was persuaded to abate a third part),
and to make a public submission and acknow-
ledgment in the chapel in the face of all the
society assembled. And these two things
he did.
Such were the manners of the time, and
afterwards, as will be seen, they grew worse
rather than better.



My father was well remembered by some of
the older sort about the King's person, as
also by the Prince Rupert, elder son of the
Princess Elizabeth, and so nephew to the King,
who, when he was a child, had greatly favoured
him. Hence, without any delay, he obtained the
commission of a captain of horse. Indeed,
being a man of capacity and of some experience
in military matters, while most of the King's
officers were wholly raw and uninstructed in the
art of war, he had more weight in council than
of right belonged to his rank; nor do I doubt
but that, had it not pleased God to order things
otherwise, he would have been promoted to a
principal command. Indeed he had, very soon
after his first joining the army, the chief direc]
tion of his regiment, the colonel being a young
gentleman of quality, that had none of the


virtues belonging to a soldier save courage
only, unless it is to be counted as a virtue that
he knew his own ignorance, and gave a ready
ear to the counsel of wiser men.
For myself, I gave my attention to things
academical, and was a diligent student, exercis-
ing an industry which, I make bold to say, few
others in the University excelled. This, it must
be confessed, was not altogether of my own
free choice; but my father would have it so.
"Stick to your books," he would say, "son
Philip, so long as you can." Thus for the
present time you will serve your cause most
effectually. If the need come for your hand, I
shall not spare to call you ; but remember that
it is easier to take up the sword than to lay it
down." Nevertheless, with my father's consent;
that I might be ready for such occasion when
soever it might come, I learnt my exercises,
both as a foot-soldier and a trooper. (I had
learnt to ride while yet a child, perfecting
myself in the art during my long compelled
absence from school in the time of the plague.)
I had, through the bounty of my father, arms
of my own, namely, a steel cap, a back and


breast-piece and a pike, with the other appur-
tenances. We trained commonly in the quad-
rangle of New College, the warden whereof, Dr.
Robert Pink, deputy vice-chancellor, was a
zealous King's man. There was a school kept
in the cloisters of New College, wherein were
taught first the singing boys of the chapel
(with which scarce any other in England can
be compared), and also other youth of the town.
And I remember what ado the ushers had with
the lads on the training days. There was no
holding them in their school on these occasions;
neither tasks nor the terror of the lash could
hinder them from seeing and following the
As this year (1644) went on, it was more and
more manifest that the King was in a great strait.
My father would have it that he was ill served by
his advisers, especially in their continual chang-
ing of their plans, which, when they had settled
them after long and painful debate, they'
would often unsettle without sufficient cause.
I have, indeed, heard him say, If his Majesty
would but trust his own judgment, which is
indeed better than can be found in many of


them that pretend to be his advisers, and
having once come by a resolution would carry
it out determinately, wouldd be well for him
and for his kingdom." Whatever the cause, it
came to pass that in the month of May the
King's affairs were in such ill case that he was
like to be besieged in Oxford. The forces
that he had with him were scarce a third part
as numerous as those that the Parliament had
arrayed against him; nor could he look for
any present help from elsewhere, Prince
Rupert being on his march to relieve my Lord
Derby (besieged in his castle of Lathom), and
Prince Maurice having sat down before Lyme
in the county of Dorset, a little fisher-town
which he was not like to take, and which, if
taken, had been but of small account. The
King therefore had to retire his troops from
Reading. Abingdon also, which is not
more than five miles from Oxford, was aban-
doned, though this was against the King's
desire and even command expressly given; so
that all Berkshire now was in the hands of Par-
liament by their two commanders, the Earl
of Essex and Sir William Waller, and the King


was forced to draw his whole force of horse
and foot on the north side of Oxford; nay
more, the Parliament came into Oxfordshire, my
Lord Essex getting over the Thames at Sand-
ford Ferry (which is three miles away from
Oxford), and halting on Bullingdon Green,
whence he sent parties of horse up to the very
gates of the city. This was on the twenty-ninth
day of May. Meanwhile Sir William Waller
also had crossed the Thames and was come as far
as Eynsham, where he lay at my father's house,
but did no damage, but was, on the contrary,
cause of no small profit to John Vickers, and so
through him to my father; the said John selling
to him and his company poultry and eggs and
the like at such a price as did, in a way, avenge
the King's wrongs. Now, therefore, the King
was well nigh surrounded, for some of my
Lord Essex's horse had gone forward as far as
Woodstock, so that there was but one vacant
space left in the circle which the enemy had
not yet occupied, to wit, between Eynsham and
Woodstock, and this space was of not more
than six miles.
So desperate indeed was the situation of

affairs that there were many now who counselled
the King that he should give himself up to the
Earl of Essex, to which advice he gave this
answer, as my father told me who heard the
very words as they came from his mouth.
"'Tis possible I shall be found in the hands of
the Earl of Essex, but I shall be dead first."
On the third day of June, at eleven of the
clock in the forenoon, as I sat in my chamber,
comes my father to me. I was reading, I
remember, in the twenty-seventh book of the
Histories of Livy of how the Consul Livius
made a sudden march to join forces with his
colleague against Hasdrubal, then threatening
to combine his army with Hannibal's to the
great danger of the commonwealth of Rome.
My father had a more cheerful look than I had
seen in him since my coming home. Indeed,
he was one of them to whom the bare prospect
of danger is a singular great delight, so that
the whistling of a bullet near to him would
rouse him as a draught of wine does other
men, and would change his ordinary mood,
which was somewhat grave and reserved, to a
most uncommon gaiety and mirth. Says he,

-- Ak


mom ~ ,,~~s

I-r k ;L M m

Friar Bacon s House.r


"Son Philip, I see you are set to pull down Friar
Bacon's house about your ears.* Nevertheless,
put away your books, if you have a mind for a
ride to-night. My colonel is sick of a fever,
which he contracted, I take it, from toasting
the King too zealously last night at St. John's
College, where they drink perilously deep.
'Tis not a serious ailment, but it hinders him at
the present time from the saddle ; and by the
King's special word I am to have command
of the regiment. Further, the King said,
'Thou wilt need some one to carry mes-
sages and the like, a young man of courage and
discretion, and a bold rider. Dost know of
such a one ?' Then I said-let it not turn your
head to hear such good opinions of yourself-
'Sire, I have a son who would do his utmost to
please your Majesty.' Then he would know
who you were; but when he heard that you
were a scholar, his face clouded somewhat, and
he said, 'A scholar is best at his books. 'Tis
not the least evil of this most unhappy war that
it has changed this seat of learning into a
The tradition was that the house would fall when a more
learned man than the Friar should pass beneath it.


barrack of soldiers. Where shall I find
preachers and counsellors if I turn my scholars
into troopers ?' But when I told his Majesty
that you were diligent at your books, he said,
Well, if the lad will take this ride as a holiday
and return hereafter to his books, it shall be
as you wish. Will you answer for him ?' And
when I said that I would it was settled that you
should come. But mind, son Philip, that you
do not falsify my word. And now I will have
a word with Master Hood, your Rector, for the
King has promised that you shall have dispen-
sation for the. rest of your term if perchance you
have not kept it." And, indeed, I had kept
but half of Trinity term, which begins on the
Wednesday after Whit Sunday. The Rector
made no hindrance, being always amenable to
them that are in authority. Only he would not
give me permission to be absent under his hand,
which my father would gladly have had. "'Tis
no need," he said; but I do suspect that he
would not do aught that might be used in evi-
dence against him. He is a good man, of wise
carriage and conduct, and learning sufficient for
his place; but 'tis cardinal doctrine with him that

-u/1 I/

,..... ... ....
i r

1111!!11111]11111111111!1!111!1!11111111111 11 lll 1 l il!11 1 11 1) ll1lll l l 11 l lllllll]


he must be Rector of Lincoln College. 'Tis not
altogether ill with the world, he thinks, so long
as that be so. Hitherto he has kept his profits
and dignities while many have lost them, as I
shall show hereafter; and if, to speak profanely,
Fortune shall give another turn to her wheel,
and the King have his own again, I doubt not
we shall find Master Hood* at the top in as
good case as ever.
My father had, with no small difficulty, be-
spoken a horse for me, and when I had settled
my small affairs at College, I went down to
William Barnes his stables in S. Aldate's so as
to make acquaintance with him. The first sight
of him dashed me somewhat. He was, I
thought, over small for me, having not more than
thirteen hands in height, while my stature ex-
ceeded six feet by three inches and more. But
his colour troubled me more than his littleness,
for he was of the spotted kind, such as they com-
monly use in shows. William Barnes perceived
that I was ill at ease, and would comfort me. "Nay,
% Paul Hood held the Rectorship of Lincoln College from 1620
to 1668, and therefore outlasted the change from King to Par-
liament, and from Parliament again to King. No other head of
a house was equally compliant or equally long lived.

Master," he said, "'tis an excellent beast for all
his queer look. A good horse is ever of a good
colour, say I; and as for strength it does not
always go with bigness. I warrant he would
carry three of you, if his back were long
enough. And if your legs be over long, you
must shorten your stirrups." Nor, indeed, were
his commendations ill bestowed. It must be
confessed that there was much laughter when I
was first seen on his back, and laughter is some-
times almost as ill to bear as blows. But he
never failed me in any need. He never flinched
at the noise of the cannons-no, not when he
heard it for the first time, whereas there were, I
noted, many horses that could never be
trusted, but that they would carry their riders
clean off the field, to their no small discredit, or
straight into the enemy, to their no small danger.
But Spot-for so I called the good beast-was
ever steady and obedient to the rein, and if
provender were short he was content to wait,
nor yet failed in strength, however long the
day's work might be. Poor Spot, he is with
many another on Naseby Field. I am not
ashamed to confess that though I had, God


knows, other and heavier griefs that day, I
shed tears to think I should see him no more.
But I must return to the time of which I am
now speaking.
Though my father had been secret as to the
purpose of the ride, as he named it, to which he
called me, I had little doubt what this might
be. Yet was I somewhat mistaken. For
thinking that the King was intending to go
forth from Oxford, where, as I have said,
he was near to being surrounded, to some part
where he might have freer action, and to do this
with a small company of followers, I found,
coming down to the north gate, which I did
about half-past eight on the evening, that there
was a whole army assembled. There were, as I
did afterwards discover, about 6,ooo men, of
whom the greater part were horse. The horse
were drawn up in a very fair array in Port
Meadow, which had been conveniently chosen
for this purpose, as lying low and so being
out of sight of the enemy. The foot soldiers,
marching down the lane that runs by Aristotle's
Well, there joined them; and so, about nine
of the clock, when it was now beginning to grow


dark, we set off, the horse, whereof my father's
regiment was the foremost, being in front, and
the footmen following after with as much haste
as they might. And, indeed, besides that all
were picked men, 'twas not a march in which
any would desire to linger, so great was the
danger lest the enemy's forces, being much more
numerous, should close upon us. These, as I
have before said, were on either side of us,
but on the present occasion the army of Lord
Essex was the more to be dreaded, seeing that
it had pushed forward its outposts so far as
Woodstock town, whereas we, marching by
Picksey and Oxsey Mead, and over Worton
Heath, skirted the very walls of Woodstock
Park. Our chief care was concerning a certain
bridge over the Evenlode River that is hard by
the village of Long Hanborough, whether it were
held by the enemy or no. For if it was so held
we should have to fight for it, and if we fought
it would be small odds whether we got the
better or the worse, for we could scarce hope,
being checked upon our way, to outstrip our
pursuers. About midnight there was a con-
sultation held among the leaders, whereof the

.:-.--5 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ -- - -==-:''.: ..='

= f~ _-- -.._'. .
. t
_ .- :- ---. ___- ,- --.:" .. ..
_-._ .. -. .._- -' ~
: _=-- ",-

p :_ .. y_

---- :2 -i _ -----

_~~~~~ ', ". -
i _i r,'.:

A -a-of O 'es


outcome was this, that my father with two
hundred horsemen, each carrying a mus-
queteer behind him, rode forward with as
much speed as they could command, being
specially chosen for their courage and for the
strength and quickness of their horses. It was
purposed that these should occupy and hold
the bridge at Hanborough. With these I rode,
and when we were come to the bridge, and by
God's providence found it vacant, says my
father to me, "Son Philip, ride back to the
army with all the speed you can, and tell the
good news to the King." So I rode, putting
spurs to my horse, though indeed the good
beast needed not spur nor whip; and when I
arrived at the army I found the King, with
whom was the whole inception and conduct of
the affair from the beginning to the end, had
ridden to the front. And when he saw me,
careful and troubled as he was about the matter,
he had much ado to keep from laughter, so
strange a figure did we show. But when he
heard my news, he said, This is excellent
good tidings; never came more welcome
Mercury than thou. And that need be a


marvellous good beast of thine, be his looks
what they may, for thee to have gone and
returned so speedily. But spare him now, and
follow quietly."
There is no need to write of this march at
length, though indeed it was marvellously well
conceived and executed. Let it suffice then to
say so much as follows. We proceeded with-
out halt till the afternoon, when we came to
Burford, which is distant from Oxford about
sixteen miles. There we refreshed ourselves
awhile, and his Majesty was so graciously
disposed that he would have my father and me
to sup with him and the great lords that were
about his person. After supper he talked with
my father awhile about military affairs, asking
his opinion in the most courteous fashion; and
he had also a few words with me about my
books, not forgetting to warn me that I must
not neglect them for any pleasures or excite-
ments of war. About nine of the clock the
King, desiring to put as much space as might
be between himself and his pursuers, gave
command to march, which was performed, but
not without some murmuring. And, indeed, it


was a laborious march, for though our way for
the most part lay along the valley, yet at the
last, it being little short of midnight, we made a
steep ascent, and so having mounted the height
with no small pains, descended the same with
no less to Bourton-on-the-Water. Here we
rested for the night, keeping under such shelter
as we could find, or, the greater part of us,
under none at all. We had marched, I take it,
not less than thirty miles, which is no small
achievement, especially for an army that had
been for many months past in garrison. The
next day betimes we set forth again, the King
intending at the first to halt at Evesham, but
after hearing that General Waller was in pursuit,
and that crossing the Avon at Stratford might
so cut him off from Worcester, to which place
he was bound, changed his purpose and went
on without halt to Worcester. And here I must
record a marvellous deliverance from instant
danger that befell me on my way. 'Twas at
Pershore in Worcestershire, where there is a
bridge over the Avon. This the King com-
manded should be broken down, and gave
commandment accordingly to the officer that


had the charge of such matters. But he being
either new to his business, or overhasty to
finish the matter, lest the enemy should per-
chance come up and find it undone, set fire
to the gunpowder wherewith it was to be
destroyed, before the due time. By this mis-
adventure Major Bridges, a very skilful and
courageous man, was killed, and with him
also three other officers and about twenty
common soldiers. I myself was like to have
perished with these, being thrown into the
river, by the falling of the bridge. But being
somewhat before the others I escaped, for
whereas they were done to death by the force
of the explosion, I did but lose my footing and
fall into the river. And here again my good
steed showed how excellent a beast he was,
for he swam most bravely against the stream,
and in the end landed me on the bank,
being not much the worse, save for the wetting.
From Evesham the King rode to Worcester,
where the townsfolk received him with much



OF his Majesty's marching and counter-
marchings, after his coming to the City of
Worcester, I shall not write in this place, save
to say that they were ordered with such skill as
utterly confounded his pursuers. But they that
read this book will, I doubt not, pardon me if
I speak somewhat particularly of the battle
which his Majesty fought at Copredy Bridge,
seeing that it was the first battle in which I had
a hand.
On the twenty-eighth day of June, being a
Friday, the army lay for the night in the field,
eastward of Banbury. The next day the King
marched to the North, having the Cherwell
River on his left hand, Sir William Waller at
the same time coasting on the other side of
the river. My father and I were with the rear
of the army, in which were a thousand foot and


two brigades of horse of which the one was
commanded by my Lord Northampton, and the
other by my Lord Cleveland. In this latter
was the regiment of which my father had
charge for the time. About noon we halted
to dine. This business finished, we began
again to march, not expecting that the enemy,
who was some way distant from the river,
would fall upon us. But about two of the clock
we noted that the body of the army-with
which was the King himself-had since dinner
made such haste that there was now a great
space left between them and us; for we
had received no command to quicken our
marching. Being somewhat uneasy at this-
for it was not to be doubted that Sir William
Waller, being a man experienced in warfare,
would take occasion of this dividing of the
army to fall upon us-we spied certain scattered
horsemen riding towards us, with such hurry
and confusion as men are when they are pur-
sued. While we wondered what this might
mean comes a rider post-haste to my Lord
Cleveland, and says:
My Lord, be on your guard, and make


ready to defend yourselves. The enemy has
taken Copredy Bridge, which the Dragoons
were keeping for the King, and will cross the
river in a short space of time. 'Tis said that
he has five thousand men and twenty pieces of
These numbers were exaggerated by fame, as
is commonly the case, for there were, in truth,
little more than half the number. At the same
time, we perceived that a brigade of horse,
which we reckoned at about a thousand, had
crossed the river by a certain ford, which was
a mile below the bridge, and was ready to
fall upon us in the rear. These latter, being
the nearer to us of the two, seemed to my Lord
Cleveland to demand his first care. Thereupon
he drew up his brigade to a rising ground,
which faced the ford aforesaid, and passed the
word that we should make ready to charge. Then
we all descended from our horses and looked
to our saddle-girths, that they should not fail
us, and to the trimming of our pistols. Then,
mounting again, we drew our swords, and so
sat waiting for the word. Whether during that
said waiting I felt any fear I can scarce say.


'Tis, indeed, a mighty difficult thing clearly to
distinguish between fear and other feelings that
are somewhat akin to it. The Latins had a
certain word-trepidare, to wit-which has a
singular variety of meaning, That it has
something to do with "trembling" there can
scarce be doubt, and it does often signify such
agitation of mind as is commonly shown by
trembling; yet sometimes also its meaning
seems to be haste only; and, indeed, a man
may tremble for eagerness and not for fear.
That I had any thought of flying or shrinking
back I can, with a good conscience, deny. A
man must be beside himself with fear that
should think of such a thing; but my heart beat
mighty quick, and I thought of them that were
dear to me as might one who thinks to see
them no more. While these things were in my
mind comes my father, riding along in front of
the line, to see that all were ready. When he
comes to me-I being placed at the right
end of the line-he laid his right hand on
my shoulder, and said, Be steady, son Philip;
let not your horse carry you too fast. That
you be not too slow I need not warn


you." ('Twas marvellous what heart he put
into me by these words, which seemed to take
my courage as something beyond doubt.)
"Give the point of your sword to an enemy
rather than the edge, and keep your pistols for a
last resource, when you shalt find yourself in
close quarters with an enemy and like to be
hard pressed."
When he had said so much the trumpet
sounded for a charge, and we set spurs to our
horses, and rode, slowly at the first, and keeping
our ranks passably well, but afterwards at our
horses' full speed, and in a certain disorder. I
do believe that the veriest coward upon earth
could not fear if he once found himself riding
in a charge; a man cannot choose but forget
himself, and, if he have no courage of his own,
he takes that of his company and is content to
meet dangers at which he would otherwise
tremble and grow pale. The enemy had scarce
finished their crossing of the river; and though
they put on a bold face, and even began to move
forward to encounter us, they could not stand,
but were broken at the first encounter. For
myself, I clean forgot my father's command that


I should give the point of my sword, and struck
lustily, often missing my blow altogether, and
doing but little at other times but blunting my
sword. 'Twas all the better so for one of the
enemy's horse that was overthrown by our
charge. He was a lad of seventeen or there-
abouts, a brave youth, for he would stand his
ground though his men left him. But now he
and his horse went down before us, and that
straight in my way. Thereupon, being on the
ground and helpless, he cried Quarter!" Now,
whether or no I heard him is more than I can
say, but I must confess with shame that I was
so carried out of myself with the fury of battle
that it was as if he had not spoken, for I struck
at him, so lying, with all my might. But the
fury which caused me so to forget myself did
also make me altogether miss my aim. God
be thanked therefore! for otherwise that day had
been to me for all my life such a shame and
sorrow as cannot be expressed. As I was in
the act to lift my sword again-for I will con-
ceal nothing-I felt a hand upon my arm that
held it as with a grip of iron; and my father,
for it was he, cried in such a voice as I had

University of Florida Home Page
© 2004 - 2010 University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries.
All rights reserved.

Acceptable Use, Copyright, and Disclaimer Statement
Last updated October 10, 2010 - - mvs