But see, how true there is a time for all things! It happened that when the Moors were besieged in that place by Don Fernando and his Queen Isabella, the King with an arrow out of a bow, which they then used in war, shooting the first arrow as their custom is, cut that part of the stone that holds the keys, which was in fashion of a chain, and the keys falling, remained in the hand underneath. This strange accident preceded but a few days the conquest of the town of Grenada and kingdom.

They have in this place an iron grate, fixed into the side of the hill, that is a rock: I laid my head to the key-hole and heard a noise like the clashing of arms, but could not distinguish other shrill noises I heard with that, but tradition says it could never be opened since the Moors left it, notwithstanding several persons had endeavoured to wrench it open, but that they perished in the attempt.

The truth of this I can say no more to; but that there is such a gate, and I have seen it.

After two days we went on our journey; and on the 13th of April 1650, we came to the Court of Madrid, where we were the next day visited by the two English amba.s.sadors, and afterwards by all the English merchants.

Here I was delivered of my first daughter, that was called Elizabeth, upon the 13th of July. She lived but fifteen days, and lies buried in the Chapel of the French Hospital. Your father had great difficulty to carry on his business, without encroaching upon the Extraordinary Amba.s.sador's negotiation, and the performance of his Majesty's commands to show his present necessities, which he was sent to Philip IV. for, in hopes of a present supply of money, which our King then lacked; but finding no good to be done on that errand, he and I, accompanied by Dr. Bell, of Jesus College in Cambridge, who had been his tutor, went a day's journey together towards St. Sebastian, there to embark for France.

While we stayed in this Court we were kindly treated by all the English; and it was no small trouble to your father's tutor to quit his company, but, having undertaken the charge of that family of the amba.s.sador's as their chaplain, he said, he held himself obliged in conscience to stay, and so he did. In a few months after he died there, and lies buried in the garden-house, where they then lived.

Whilst we were in Madrid, there was sent one Askew, as resident from the then Governor of England; he lay in a common eating-house where some travellers used to lie, and being one day at dinner, some young men meeting in the street with Mr. Prodgers, a gentleman belonging to the Lord Amba.s.sador Cottington, and Mr. Sparks, an English merchant, discoursing of news, began to speak of the impudence of that Askew, to come a public minister from rebels to a Court where there were two Amba.s.sadors from his King. This subject being handled with heat, they all resolved to go without more consideration into his lodgings immediately and kill him: they came up to his chamber door, and finding it open, and he sat at dinner, seized him, and so killed him, and went their several ways. Afterwards they found Mr. Sparks in a church for rescue, notwithstanding it was contrary to their religion and laws, and they forced him out from thence, and executed him publicly, their fears of the English power were then so great.

There was at that time the Lord Goring, son to the Earl of Norwich: he had a command under Philip the Fourth of Spain, against the Portuguese: he was generally esteemed a good and great commander, and had been brought up in Holland in his youth, of vast natural parts; for I have heard your father say, he hath dictated to several persons at once that were upon despatches, and all so admirably well, that none of them could be mended. He was exceeding facetious and pleasant company, and in conversation, where good manners were due, the civilest person imaginable, so that he would blush like a girl. He was very tall, and very handsome: he had been married to a daughter of the Earl of Cork, but never had a child by her. His expenses were what he could get, and his debauchery beyond all precedents, which at last lost him that love the Spaniards had for him; and that country not admitting his constant drinking, he fell sick of a hectic fever, in which he turned his religion, and with that artifice could scarce get to keep him whilst he lived in that sickness, or to bury him when he was dead.

We came to St. Sebastian's about the beginning of September, and there hired a small French vessel to carry us to Nantz: we embarked within two days after our coming to this town. I never saw so wild a place, nor were the inhabitants unsuitable, but like to like, which made us hasten away, and I am sure to our cost we found the proverb true, for our haste brought us woe. We had not been a day at sea before we had a storm begun, that continued two days and two nights in a most violent manner; and being in the Bay of Biscay, we had a hurricane that drew the vessel up from the water, which had neither sail nor mast left, and but six men and a boy. Whilst they had hopes of life they ran swearing about like devils, but when that failed them, they ran into holes, and let the ship drive as it would. In this great hazard of our lives we were the beginning of the third night, when G.o.d in mercy ceased the storm of a sudden, and there was a great calm, which made us exceeding joyful; but when those beasts, for they were scarce men, that manned the vessel, began to rummage the bark, they could not find their compa.s.s anywhere, for the loss of which they began again such horrible lamentations as were as dismal to us as the storm past.

Thus between hope and fear we pa.s.sed the night, they protesting to us they knew not where they were, and truly we believed them; for with fear and drink I think they were bereaved of their senses. So soon as it was day, about six o'clock, the master cried out, 'The land! the land!' but we did not receive the news with the joy belonging to it, but sighing said, G.o.d's will be done! Thus the tide drove us until about five o'clock in the afternoon, and drawing near the side of a small rock that had a creek by it, we ran aground, but the sea was so calm that we all got out without the loss of any man or goods, but the vessel was so shattered that it was not afterwards serviceable: thus, G.o.d be praised! we escaped this great danger, and found ourselves near a little village about two leagues from Nantz. We hired there six a.s.ses, upon which we rode as many as could by turns, and the rest carried our goods. This journey took us up all the next day, for I should have told you that we stirred not that night, because we sat up and made good cheer; for beds they had none, and we were so transported that we thought we had no need of any, but we had very good fires, and Nantz white wine, and b.u.t.ter, and milk, and walnuts and eggs, and some very bad cheese; and was not this enough, with the escape of shipwreck, to be thought better than a feast? I am sure until that hour I never knew such pleasure in eating, between which we a thousand times repeated what we had spoken when every word seemed to be our last.

As soon as it was day, we began our journey towards Nantz, and by the way we pa.s.sed by a little poor chapel, at the door of which a friar begged an alms, saying, that he would show us there the greatest wonder in the world. We resolved to go with him. He went before us to the altar, and out of a cupboard, with great devotion, he took a box, and crossing himself he opened it, in that was another of crystal that contained a little silver box; he lifting this crystal box up, cried, 'Behold in this the hem [Footnote: Thus in the MS.; but query if a mistake of the transcriber.] of St. Joseph, which was taken as he hewed his timber!' To which my husband replied, 'Indeed, Father, it is the lightest, considering the greatness, that I ever handled in my life.' The ridiculousness of this, with the simplicity of the man, entertained us till we came to Nantz. We met by the way good grapes and walnuts growing, of which we culled out the best.

Nantz is a pa.s.sable good town, but decayed: some monasteries in it, but none good nor rich. There was in a nunnery, when I was there, a daughter of Secretary Windebank. There is English provisions, and of all sorts, cheap and good. We hired a boat to carry us up to Orleans, and we were towed up all the river of Loire so far. Every night we went on sh.o.r.e to bed, and every morning carried into the boat wine and fruit, and bread, with some flesh, which we dressed in the boat, for it had a hearth, on which we burnt charcoal: we likewise caught carps, which were the fattest and the best I ever eat in my life. And of all my travels none were, for travel sake as I may call it, so pleasant as this; for we saw the finest cities, seats, woods, meadows, pastures, and champaign that I ever saw in my life, adorned with the most pleasant river of Loire; of which, at Orleans, we took our leaves.

Arriving, about the middle of November 1650, at Paris, we went, so soon as we could get clothes, to wait on the Queen-Mother and the Princess Henrietta. The Queen entertained us very respectfully, and after many favours done us, and discoursing in private with your father about affairs of state, he received her Majesty's letters to send to the King, who was then on his way to Scotland. We kissed her hand and went to Calais, with resolution that I should go to England, to send my husband more money, for this long journey cost us all we could procure: yet this I will tell you, praised be G.o.d for his peculiar grace herein, that your father nor I ever borrowed money nor owed for clothes, nor diet, nor lodging beyond sea in our lives, which was very much, considering the straits we were in many times, and the bad custom our countrymen had that way, which did redound much to the King's dishonour and their own discredit.

When we came to Calais, my husband sent me to England, and staying himself there, intending, as soon as he had received money, to go and live in Holland until such time as it should please Almighty G.o.d to enable him again to wait on his Majesty, now in Scotland, both to give him an account of his journey into Spain, as of the rest of his employments since he kissed his hand. But G.o.d ordered it otherwise; for the case being that the two parties in Scotland being both unsatisfied with each other's ministers, and Sir E. Hyde and Secretary Nicholas being excepted against, and left in Holland, it was proposed, the state wanting a Secretary for the King, that your father should be immediately sent for, which was done accordingly, and he went with letters and presents from the Princess of Orange, and the Princess Royal.

Here I will show you something of Sir Edward Hyde's nature: he being surprised with this news, and suspecting that my husband might come to a greater power than himself, both because of his parts and integrity, and because himself had been sometimes absent in the Spanish Emba.s.sy, he with all the humility possible, and earnest pa.s.sion, begged my husband to remember the King often of him to his advantage as occasion should serve, and to procure leave that he might wait on the King, promising, with all the oaths that he could express to cause belief, that he would make it his business all the days of his life to serve your father's interest in what condition soever he should be in: thus they parted, with your father's promise to serve him in what he was capable of, upon which account many letters pa.s.sed between them.

When your father arrived in Scotland, he was received by the King with great expressions of great content; and after he had given an account of his past employment, he was by the King recommended to the York party, who received him very kindly, and gave him both the broad seal and signet to keep.

They several times pressed him to take the Covenant, but he never did, but followed his business so close, with such diligence and temper, that he was well beloved on all sides, and they reposed great trust in him. When he went out of Holland, he wrote to me to arm myself with patience in his absence, and likewise that I would not expect many letters as was his custom, for that was now impossible; but he hoped, that when we did meet again, it would be happy and of long continuance, and bade me trust G.o.d with him, as he did me, in whose mercy he hoped, being upon that duty he was obliged to, with a thousand kind expressions.

But G.o.d knows how great a surprise this me, being great with child, and two children with me not in the best condition to maintain them, and in daily fears of your father upon the private account of animosities amongst themselves in Scotland; but I did what I could to arm myself, and was kindly visited both by my relations and friends.

About this time my cousin Evelyn's wife [Footnote: Evelyn frequently mentions his "cousin Richard Fanshawe," in his Diary. On the 6th of February, 1651-2, he says, "I went to visit my cousin Richard Fanshawe, and divers other friends"; and on the 6th of March, in that year, he observes, "My cousin Richard Fanshawe came to visit me, and inform me of many considerable affairs." On the 23rd of November, 1654, he went to London to visit his "cousin Fanshawe."--Diary, vol.

ii. pp. 48, 49, 98. Lady Brown, Mr. Evelyn's mother-in-law, died at Woodcot, in Kent, towards the end of October 1652.--Ibid. p. 61.] came to London, and had newly buried her mother, my Lady Brown, wife to Sir Richard Brown, that then was resident for the King at Paris. A little before she and I and Doctor Steward, a Clerk of the closet to King Charles the First, christened a daughter of Mr. Waters, near a year old. About this time, Lord Chief Justice Heath died at Calais, and several of the King's servants at Paris, amongst others Mr. Henry Murray, of his bedchamber, a very good man.

I now settled myself in a handsome lodging in London. With a heavy heart I stayed in this lodging almost seven months, and in that time I did not go abroad seven times, but spent my time in prayer to G.o.d for the deliverance of the King and my husband, whose danger was ever before my eyes. I was seldom without the best company, and sometimes my father would stay a week, for all had compa.s.sion on my condition. I removed to Queenstreet, and there in a very good lodging I was upon the 24th of June delivered of a daughter: in all this time I had but four letters from your father, which made the pain I was in more difficult to bear.

I went with my brother Fanshawe to Ware Park, and my sister went to b.a.l.l.s, to my father, both intending to meet in the winter; and so indeed we did with tears; for the 3rd of September following was fought the battle of Worcester, when the King being missed, and nothing heard of your father being dead or alive, for three days it was inexpressible what affliction I was in. I neither eat nor slept, but trembled at every motion I heard, expecting the fatal news, which at last came in their news-book, which mentioned your father a prisoner.

Then with some hopes I went to London, intending to leave my little girl Nan, the companion of my troubles, there, and so find out my husband wheresoever he was carried. But upon my coming to London, I met a messenger from him with a letter, which advised me of his condition, and told me he was very civilly used, and said little more, but that I should be in some room at Charing-cross, where he had promise from his keeper that he should rest there in my company at dinner-time: this was meant to him as a great favour. I expected him with impatience, and on the day appointed provided a dinner and room, as ordered, in which I was with my father and some of our friends, where, about eleven of the clock, we saw hundreds of poor soldiers, both English and Scotch, march all naked on foot, and many with your father, who was very cheerful in appearance, who after he had spoken and saluted me and his friends there, said, 'Pray let us not lose time, for I know not how little I have to spare. This is the chance of war; nothing venture, nothing have; so let us sit down and be merry whilst we may.' Then taking my hand in his and kissing me, 'Cease weeping, no other thing upon earth can move me: remember we are all at G.o.d's disposal.'

Then he began to tell how kind his Captain was to him, and the people as he pa.s.sed offered him money, and brought him good things, and particularly Lady Denham, at Borstal-house, who would have given him all the money she had in her house, but he returned her thanks, and told her he had so ill kept his own, that he would not tempt his governor with more, but if she would give him a shirt or two, and some handkerchiefs, he would keep them as long as he could for her sake.

She fetched him two smocks of her own, and some handkerchiefs, saying she was ashamed to give him them, but, having none of her sons at home, she desired him to wear them.

Thus we pa.s.sed the time until order came to carry him to Whitehall, where, in a little room yet standing in the bowling-green, he was kept prisoner, without the speech of any, so far as they knew, ten weeks, and in expectation of death. They often examined him, and at last he grew so ill in health by the cold and hard marches he had undergone, and being pent up in a room close and small, that the scurvy brought him almost to death's door.

During the time of his imprisonment, I failed not constantly to go, when the clock struck four in the morning, with a dark lantern in my hand, all alone and on foot, from my lodging in Chancery Lane, at my cousin Young's, to Whitehall, in at the entry that went out of King Street into the bowling-green. There I would go under his window and softly call him: he, after the first time excepted, never failed to put out his head at the first call: thus we talked together, and sometimes I was so wet with the rain, that it went in at my neck and out at my heels. He directed me how I should make my addresses, which I did ever to their general, Cromwell, who had a great respect for your father, and would have bought him off to his service upon any terms.

Being one day to solicit for my husband's liberty for a time, he bade me bring the next day a certificate from a physician, that he was really ill. Immediately I went to Dr. Bathurst, that was by chance both physician to Cromwell and to our family, who gave me one very favourable in my husband's behalf. I delivered it at the Council Chamber, at three of the clock that afternoon, as he commanded me, and he himself moved, that seeing they could make no use of his imprisonment, whereby to lighten them in their business, he might have his liberty upon four thousand pounds bail, to take a course of physic, he being dangerously ill. Many spake against it, but most Sir Henry Vane, who said he would be as instrumental, for aught he knew, to hang them all that sat there, if ever he had opportunity, but if he had liberty for a time, that he might take the engagement before he went out: upon which Cromwell said, 'I never knew that the ENGAGEMENT [Footnote: Cromwell probably meant to pun upon this word.--In Ireland, "engagement" means an ISSUE; "an engagement in the neck," arm, &c., i.e., an issue in those places.] was a medicine for the s...o...b..tic.'

They, hearing their General say so, thought it obliged him, and so ordered him his liberty upon bail. His eldest brother, and sister Bedell, and self, were bound in four thousand pounds; and the latter end of November he came to my lodgings, at my cousin Young's. He there met many of his good friends and kindred; and my joy was inexpressible, and so was poor Nan's, of whom your poor father was very fond. I forgot to tell you, that when your father was taken prisoner of war, he, before they entered the house where he was, burned all his papers, which saved the lives and estates of many a brave gentleman.

When he came out of Scotland, he left behind him a box of writings, in which his patent of Baronet was, and his patent of additional arms, [Footnote: A coat of augmentation was granted to Richard Fanshawe, Esq., Remembrancer of the Exchequer, and to his family, by patent, dated at Jersey, 8th of February, 2 Car. II. 1650, being "Cheeky Argent and Azure, a Cross Gules." Grants of that kind to persons who distinguished themselves in the service of the King were very common, and consisted, in most cases, either of the lion of England, a fleur- de-lis, or, as in the instance of Mr. Fanshawe, of the Cross of St.

George. Sir Richard was created a Baronet on the 2nd of September 1650.] which was safely sent after him, after the happy restoration of the King. You may read your father's demeanour of himself in this affair, wrote by his own hand, in a book by itself amongst your books, and it is a great masterpiece, as you will find.

Within ten days he fell very sick, and the fever settled in his throat and face so violently, that, for many days and nights, he slept no more but as he leaned on my shoulder as I walked: at last, after all the Doctor and Surgeon could do, it broke, and with that he had ease, and so recovered, G.o.d be praised! In 1652, he was advised to go to Bath for his s...o...b..tic that still hung on him, but he deferred his journey until August, because I was delivered on the 30th of July of a daughter.

At his return, we went to live that winter following at Benfield, in Hertfordshire, a house of my niece Fanshawe's. In this winter my husband went to wait on his good friend the Earl of Strafford, in Yorkshire; and there my Lord offered him a house of his in Tankersly Park, which he took, and paid 120 l. a year for. When my husband returned, we prepared to go in the spring to this place, but were so confined, that my husband could not stir five miles from home without leave. About February following, my brother Neuce died, at his house at Much Hadham, in Hertfordshire. My sister, Margaret Harrison, desired to go to London, and there we left her: she soon after married Mr. Edmund Turner, afterwards Sir Edmund.

In March we with our three children, Anne, Richard, and Betty, went into Yorkshire, where we lived a harmless country life, minding only the country sports and country affairs. Here my husband translated Luis de Camoens; and on October 8th, 1653, I was delivered of my daughter Margaret. I found all the neighbourhood very civil and kind upon all occasions; the place plentiful and healthful, and very pleasant, but there was no fruit: we planted some, and my Lord Strafford says now, that what we planted is the best fruit in the North.

The house of Tankersly and Park are both very pleasant and good, and we lived there with great content; but G.o.d had ordered it should not last, for upon the 20th of July 1654, at three o'clock in the afternoon, died our most dearly beloved daughter Ann, whose beauty and wit exceeded all that ever I saw of her age. She was between nine and ten years old, very tall, and the dear companion of my travels and sorrows. She lay sick but five days of the smallpox, in which time she expressed so many wise and devout sayings, as is a miracle for her years. We both wished to have gone into the same grave with her. She lies buried in Tankersly church, and her death made us both desirous to quit that fatal place to us; and so the week after her death we did, and came to Hamerton, and were half a year with my sister Bedell.

Then my husband was sent for to London, there to stay, by command of the High Court of Justice, and not to go five miles from that town, but to appear once a month before them. We then went again to my cousin Young's, in Chancery Lane: and about Christmas my husband got leave to go to Frog-Pool, in Kent, to my brother Warwick's; where, upon the 22nd of February 1655, I was delivered of a daughter, whom we named Ann, to keep in remembrance her dear sister, whom we had newly lost. We returned to our lodgings in Chancery Lane, where my husband was forced to attend till Christmas 1655; and then we went down to Jenkins, to Sir Thomas Fanshawe's; but upon New Year's Day my husband fell very sick, and the s...o...b..tic again prevailed, so much that it drew his upper lip awry, upon which we that day came to London, into Chancery Lane, but not to my cousin Young's, but to a house we took of Sir George Carey, for a year. There by the advice of Doctor Bathurst and Doctor Ridgley, my husband took physic for two months together, and at last, G.o.d be praised! he perfectly recovered his sickness, and his lip was as well as ever.

In this house, upon the 12th day of July in 1656, I was delivered of a daughter, named Mary; and in this month died my second daughter, Elizabeth, that I had left with my sister Boteler, at Frog-Pool, to see if that air would recover her; but she died of a hectic fever, and lies buried in the church of Foots Cray. My husband, weary of the town, and being advised to go into the country for his health, procured leave to go in September to Bengy, in Hertford, to a little house lent us by my brother Fanshawe.

It happened at that time there was a very ill kind of fever, of which many died, and it ran generally through all families: this we and all our family fell sick of, and my husband's and mine after some months turned to quartan agues; but I being with child, none thought I could live, for I was brought to bed of a son in November,[Footnote: "This son, Henry, lies buried in Bengy church."] ten weeks before my time; and thence forward until April 1658, I had two fits every day, that brought me so low that I was like an anatomy. I never stirred out of my bed seven months, nor during that time eat flesh, nor fish, nor bread, but sage posset drink, and pancake or eggs, or now and then a turnip or carrot. Your father was likewise very ill, but he rose out of his bed some hours daily, and had such a greediness upon him, that he would eat and drink more than ordinary persons that eat most, though he could not stand upright without being held, and in perpetual sweats, and that so violent that it ran down day and night like water.

This I have told you that you may see how near dying we were; for which recovery I humbly praise G.o.d. He got leave in August to go to Bath, which, G.o.d be praised! perfectly recovered us, and so we returned into Hertfordshire, to the Friary of Ware, which we hired of Mrs. Heydon for a year. This place we accounted happy to us, because in October we heard the news of Cromwell's death, upon which my husband began to hope that he should get loose of his fetters, in which he had been seven years; and going to London, in company with my Lord Philip, Earl of Pembroke, he lamented his case of his bonds to him that was his old and constant friend. He told him that if he would dine with him the next day, he would give him some account of that business. The next day he said to him, 'Mr. Fanshawe, I must send my eldest son into France; if you will not take it ill that I desire your company with him and care of him for one year, I will procure you your bonds within this week.' My husband was overjoyed to get loose upon any terms that were innocent, so, having seen his bonds cancelled, he went into France to Paris, from whence he by letter gave an account to Lord Chancellor Clarendon of his being got loose, and desired him to acquaint his Majesty of it, and to send him his commands, which was about April 1659. He did to this effect, that his Majesty was then going a journey, which afterwards proved to Spain; but upon his return, which would be about the beginning of winter, my husband should come to him, and that he should have, in present, the place of one of the Masters of Request, and the Secretary of the Latin Tongue.

Then my husband sent me word of this, and bade me bring my son Richard, and my eldest daughters with me to Paris, for that he intended to put them to a very good school that he had found at Paris.

We went as soon as I could possibly accommodate myself with money and other necessaries, with my three children, one maid, and one man. I could not go without a pa.s.s, and to that purpose I went to my cousin Henry Nevill, [Footnote: He was her cousin, being the second son of Sir Harry Nevill the younger, of Billingbere, in Ess.e.x, by Elizabeth, daughter of Sir John Smythe, of Ostenhanger, sister to the first Viscount Strangford.] one of the High Court of Justice, where he was then sitting at Whitehall. I told him my husband had sent for me and his son, to place him there, and that he desired his kindness to help me to a pa.s.s: he went in to the then masters, and returned to me, saying, 'that by a trick my husband had got his liberty, but for me and his children, upon no conditions we should not stir.' I made no reply, but thanked my cousin, Henry Nevill, and took my leave. I sat me down in the next room, full sadly to consider what I should do, desiring G.o.d to help me in so just a cause as I then was in. I began and thought if I were denied a pa.s.sage then, they would ever after be more severe on all occasions, and it might be very ill for us both. I was ready to go, if I had a pa.s.s, the next tide, and might be there before they could suspect I was gone: these thoughts put this invention in my head.

At Wallingford House, the Office was kept where they gave pa.s.ses: thither I went in as plain a way and speech as I could devise, leaving my maid at the gate, who was much a finer gentlewoman than myself.

With as ill mien and tone as I could express, I told a fellow I found in the Office that I desired a pa.s.s for Paris, to go to my husband.

'Woman, what is your husband, and your name?' 'Sir,' said I, with many courtesies, 'he is a young merchant, and my name is Ann Harrison.' 'Well,' said he, 'it will cost you a crown:'--said I, 'That is a great sum for me, but pray put in a man, my maid, and three children.' All which he immediately did, telling me a malignant would give him five pounds for such a pa.s.s.

I thanked him kindly, and so went immediately to my lodgings; and with my pen I made the great H of Harrison, two ff, and the rrs, an n, and the i, an s, and the s, an h, and the o, an a, and the n, a w, so completely, that none could find out the change. With all speed I hired a barge, and that night at six o'clock I went to Gravesend, and from thence by coach to Dover, where, upon my arrival, the searchers came and demanded my pa.s.s, which they were to keep for their discharge. When they had read it, they said, 'Madam, you may go when you please;' but says one, 'I little thought they would give a pa.s.s to so great a malignant, especially in so troublesome a time as this.'

About nine o'clock at night I went on board the packet-boat, and about eight o'clock in the morning landed safe, G.o.d be praised! at Calais. I went to Mr. Booth's, an English merchant, and a very honest man. There I rested two days; but upon the next day he had advice from Dover, that a post was sent to stay me from London, because they had sent for me to my lodgings by a messenger of the Court, to know why, and upon what business, I went to France. Then I discovered to him my invention of the changing my name, at which as at their disappointment we all laughed, and so did your father, and as many as knew the deceit. We hired a waggon-coach, for there is no other at Calais, and began our journey about the beginning of June 1659.

Coming one night to Abbeville, the Governor sent his Lieutenant to me, to let me know my husband was well the week before, that he had seen him at Paris, and had promised him to take care of me in my going through his government, there being much robbery daily committing; that he would advise me take care of the garrison soldiers, and giving them a pistole a piece, they would convey me very safely. This, he said, the Governor would have told me himself, but that he was in bed with the gout; I thanked him, and accepted his proffer. The next morning he sent me ten troopers well armed, and when I had gone about four leagues, as we ascended a hill, says some of these, 'Madam, look out, but fear nothing.' They rid all up to a well-mounted troop of horse, about fifty or more, which, after some parley, wheeled about into the woods again. When we came upon the hill, I asked how it was possible so many men so well armed should turn, having so few to oppose them; at which they laughed, and said, 'Madam, we are all of a company, and quarter in this town. The truth is, our pay is short, and we are forced to keep ourselves this way; but we have this rule, that if we in a party guard any company, the rest never molest them, but let them pa.s.s free.'

I having pa.s.sed all danger, as they said, gave them a pistole each man, and so left them and went on my journey, and met my husband at St. Dennis, G.o.d be praised! The 20th day of October, my then only son died of the small-pox; he lies buried in the Protestant Church, near Paris, between the Earl of Bristol and Doctor Steward. Both my eldest daughters had the small-pox at the same time, and though I neglected them, and day and night attended my dear son, yet it pleased G.o.d they recovered and he died, the grief of which made me miscarry, and caused a sickness of three weeks.

After this, in the beginnings of November, the King came to visit his mother, who was at her own house at Combes, two leagues from Paris, and thither went my husband and myself. I had not seen him in almost twelve years: he told me that if it pleased G.o.d to restore him to his kingdoms, my husband should partake of his happiness in as great a share as any servants he had. Then he asked me many questions of England, and fell into discourse with my husband privately two hours, and then commanded him to follow him to Flanders. His Majesty went the next day, my husband that day month, which was the beginning of December. I went with our family to Calais, and my husband sent me privately to London for money in January. I returned him one hundred and fifty pounds, with which he went to the King, and I followed to Newport, Bruges, and Ghent, and to Brussels, where the King received us very graciously, with the Princess Royal and the Dukes of York and Gloucester. After staying three weeks at Brussels, we went to Breda, where we heard the happy news of the King's return to England. In the beginning of May we went with all the Court to the Hague, where I first saw the Queen of Bohemia, who was exceeding kind to all of us.

Here the King and all the Royal Family were entertained at a very great supper by the States; and now business of state took up much time.

The King promised my husband he should be one of the Secretaries of State, and both the now Duke of Ormond, and the Lord Chancellor Clarendon, were witnesses of it, yet that false man made the King break his word for his own accommodation, and placed Mr. Norris, a poor country gentleman of about two hundred pounds a year, a fierce Presbyterian, and one that never saw the King's face: but still promises were made of the reversion to your father.

Upon the King's restoration, the Duke of York, then made Admiral, appointed ships to carry over the company and servants of the King, who were very great. His Highness appointed for my husband and his family a third-rate frigate, called the Speedwell; but his Majesty commanded my husband to wait on him in his own ship. We had by the States' order sent on board to the King's most eminent servants, great store of provisions: for our family we had sent on board the Speedwell a tierce of claret, a hogshead of Rhenish wine, six dozen of fowls, a dozen of gammons of bacon, a great basket of bread, and six sheep, two dozen of neats' tongues, and a great box of sweetmeats. Thus taking our leaves of those obliging persons we had conversed with in the Hague, we went on board upon the 23rd of May, about two o'clock in the afternoon. The King embarked at four of the clock, upon which we set sail, the sh.o.r.e being covered with people, and shouts from all places of a good voyage, which was seconded with many volleys of shot interchanged: so favourable was the wind, that the ships' wherries went from ship to ship to visit their friends all night long. But who can sufficiently express the joy and gallantry of that voyage, to see so many great ships, the best in the world, to hear the trumpets and all other music, to see near a hundred brave ships sail before the wind with vast cloths and streamers, the neatness and cleanness of the ships, the strength and jollity of the mariners, the gallantry of the commanders, the vast plenty of all sorts of provisions; but above all, the glorious majesties of the King and his two brothers, were so beyond man's expectation and expression! The sea was calm, the moon shone at full, and the sun suffered not a cloud to hinder his prospect of the best sight, by whose light, and the merciful bounty of G.o.d, he was set safely on sh.o.r.e at Dover in Kent, upon the 25th [Footnote: Probably a mistake for the 26th] of May, 1660.

So great were the acclamations and numbers of people, that it reached like one street from Dover to Whitehall: we lay that night at Dover, and the next day we went in Sir Arnold Braem's [Footnote: Of a Dutch family settled at Bridge, in Kent. The house at Dover, in which Lady Fanshawe lay, was built by Jacob Braem, and is, or was in Hasted's time, the Custom-house. The family is now extinct.] coach towards London, where on Sunday night we came to a house in the Savoy. My niece, Fanshawe, then lay in the Strand, where I stood to see the King's entry with his brothers; surely the most pompous show that ever was, for the hearts of all men in this kingdom moved at his will.

The next day I went with other ladies of the family to congratulate his Majesty's happy arrival, who received me with great grace, and promised me future favours to my husband and self. His Majesty gave my husband his picture, set with small diamonds, when he was a child: it is a great rarity, because there never was but one. We took a house in Portugal Row, Lincoln's-inn Fields. My husband had not long entered upon his office, but he found an oppression from Secretary Nicholas, to his great vexation, for he, as much as in him lay, engrossed all the pet.i.tions, which really, by the foundation, belonged to the Master of the Requests; and in this he was countenanced by Lord Chancellor Clarendon, his great patron, notwithstanding he had married Sir Thomas Aylesbury's daughter, that was one of the Masters of the Requests.

This year I sent for my daughter Nan from my sister Boteler's, in Kent, where I had left her; and my daughter Mary died in Hertfordshire in August, and lies buried in Hertford church, in my father's vault.

In the latter end of the summer I miscarried, when I was near half gone with child, of three sons, two hours one after the other. I think it was with the hurry of business I then was in, and perpetual company that resorted to us of all qualities, some for kindness and some for their own advantage.

As that was a time of advantage, so it was of great expense, for on April the 23rd, 1661, the King was crowned, when my husband, being in waiting, rode upon his Majesty's left hand [Footnote: Evelyn says, that at the coronation of Charles the Second were "Two persons, representing the Dukes of Normandy and Aquitaine, viz., Sir Richard Fanshawe and Sir Herbert Price, in fantastic habits."-Diary, vol. ii.