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IV 
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JAMES  C.J.PENDEI\EL  BRODHURST 
COUNT  DE  BOSCOBEL. 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


THE    YEENEY    FAMILY    DURING 
THE    CIVIL    WAS 


VOL.  II. 


PRINTED    BT 

BPOTTISWOODK    AND    CO.,    NEW-STREET   SQUA.RK 
LOS  DOS 


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MEMOIRS  OF  THE  VERNEY  FAMILY 

DURING   THE   CIVIL  WAR 

COMPILED  FROM  THE  LETTERS  AND   ILLUSTRATED   BY 
THE   PORTRAITS   AT   CLAYDON   HOUSE 

BY 

FHANCES     PAliTHEXOPE     VEliNEY 

u\ 

'  Let  us  sit  upon  the  ground 
And  tell  sad  stories  of  the  death  of  kings' 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES— VOL.  II. 

LONDON 
\  G  M  ANS,     GEEEX.     .VXD     CO. 

AND   NEW   YORK  :    15   EAST   16"'   STREET 
1892 

All    rights    reserved 


V.~L 


PREFACE 

TO 

THE     SECOND    VOLUME 


AFTER  laying  aside  the  work  for  some  years,  Lady 
Verney  made  great  efforts  latterly  to  complete  the 
first  volume  of  these  memoirs.  The  MS.  was  left  tied 
up  and  labelled,  'A  Birthday  Gift  for  my  dear  Harry, 
December  8,  1889.'  Of  the  materials  she  had  pre- 
pared for  continuing  the  work  she  wrote  :  '  I  think 
the  second  volume  will  ran  more  easily  ;  the  agony  is 
piled  up  both  for  the  family  and  the  nation,  and  that 
seems  to  melt  down  the  infinity  of  small  details, 
which  worry  one  so  much,  into  a  coherent  whole,  and 
makes  it  more  easy  to  write.  I  shall  end  with  the 
year  '49,  which  will  simplify  it.'  Eventually  Lady 
Verney  decided  to  include  1650,  to  complete  the  life 
of  Dame  Mary  Verney,  who,  after  Sir  Edmund's 
death,  is"! the  most  interesting  character  in  the  memoirs. 
Ample  materials  exist  at  Claydon  for  carrying  on 
the  life  of  Sir  Ralph  Verney  through  the  period  of 


VI         VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE  CIVIL  WAR 

the  Commonwealth  and  the  Restoration  to  his  death 
in  1696 — if  those  who  have  followed  the  story  of  his 
career  in  these  two  volumes  have  so  much  sympathy 
with  him  as  to  wish  to  know  the  rest. 

If  it  is  permissible  to  apply  to  a  chapter  in  the 
domestic  history  of  England  what  was  written  about 
a  great  fragment  of  the  '  History  of  the  World,'  I 
should  like  to  quote  Raleigh's  words  :  '  I  forbear  to 
style  my  readers,  gentle,  courteous,  and  friendly,  thereby 
to  beg  their  good  opinions,  or  to  promise  a  3rd 
volume,  which  I  also  intend,  if  these  receive  grace 
and  good  acceptance  ;  for  t'  is  certain  let  us  claw 
the  reader  with  never  so  many  courteous  phrases — 
yet  shall  we  evermore  be  thought  fools  that  write 
foolishly.' 

MARGARET  M.  YERNEY. 

CLAYDON  HOUSE  :  March  31,  1892. 


CONTENTS 

OF 

THE     SECOND    VOLUME 


PAGE 

PREFACE     ...........         v 

NOTES  ON  THE  ILLUSTRATIONS  xiii 


CHAPTER  I. 

DAME    MARGARET    VERNEY. 

Dame  Margaret's  death  in  1641 — Lady  Sussex's  condolences — 
Review  of  Margaret's  early  life  at  Hillesden  and  her  married 
life  at  Claydon — Her  mother-in-law  and  her  mother — Infant 
mortality — Epitaphs  on  infants — The  grandchildren — Mar- 
garet's father,  Sir  Thomas  Dentjn — Her  household  manage- 
ment— The  Plague  in  1636 — The  Verney  ladies  avoid  the 
Court — Ralph's  grief  at  his  mother's  death — Expenses  of 
mourning— Her  will  ........  1 

CHAPTER  II. 

SIR  RALPH'S  NOTES — THE  GEAND  REMONSTRANCE  AND 
THE  ATTEMPT  ON  THE  FIVE  MEMBERS. 

Sir  Ralph's  notes  of  the  Debates — On  the  advancement  of 
learning — On  Church  music — On  Eliot's  imprisonment — On 
the  Queen's  health  and  her  journey  to  Holland — Toleration 
denounced — The  Grand  Remonstrance — Excitement  in  the 
House — Palmer  imprisoned — Mobs  at  Westminster — The 
king's  reception  by  the  City  on  his  return  from  Scotland — 
The  king's  attempt  to  arrest  the  five  members — List  of  men 
chosen  by  the  Commons  to  command  the  militia  ...  20 


Vlll      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL  WAR 
CHAPTER  III. 

THE    RISING   IN   MUNSTEK,    1641-42. 

PAGE 

Consternation  in  England — Strafford's  successors — Sir  John 
Leeke's  letters  from  Munster— Terror  of  the  Loyalists — 
Destruction  of  property — Sir  John  deplores  the  loss  of  '  Queen 
Elizabeth's  rodd ' — Youghal  holds  out — Dungarvan  lost  and 
regained — Lord  Barrymore  killed— Irish  homes  broken  up  .  41 

CHAPTER  IV. 

CARY  VERNEY'S  MARRIAGE. 

Sir  Edmund  marries  his  daughter  to  Captain  Gardiner — Sir 
Thomas  Gardiner,  Recorder  of  London— His  violent  behaviour 
— His  committal  to  the  Tower — The  bride's  linen  and  lace — 
The  wedding  in  1642 — The  young  couple  at  Cuddesdon — 
Captain  Gardiner  joins  the  king's  army  in  the  North — The 
Gardiners  object  to  Sir  Ralph's  politics — Gary  hears  of  her 
father's  death  and  her  husband  being  taken  prisoner — Cary 
a  widow — Birth  of  her  daughter — Unkindness  of  the  Gardiners 
— Second  marriage  to  Mr.  Stewkeley — Prosperous  days  .  58 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE   RAISING   OF   THE    STANDARD,    1642. 

War  imminent — Lady  Sussex's  apprehensions — Her  brother  Sir 
Francis  Wortley  in  trouble  with  the  Parliament — Mrs.  Eure's 
account  of  distress  in  Yorkshire — Painful  position  of  Sir 
Edmund— Strained  relations  between  him  and  Sir  Ralph — 
Sir  Edmund  joins  the  king  at  York — The  Standard  raised  at 
Nottingham— The  Standard  and  the  Standard-Bearer — Letters 
from  the  king's  army  in  the  North — Family  divisions  .  .  80 

CHAPTER  VI. 

SIR   EDMUND    STRIKES    HIS   LAST   BLOW   FOR   THE    KING. 

Arms  used  in  the  Civil  War— Battle  of  Edgehill — The  struggle 
round  the  Standard — Sir  Edmund's  death — Ghost  stories — 
The  Standard  retaken — Sir  Ralph's  grief — Sir  Edward 
Sydenham  made  Knight-marshal — Character  of  Sir  Edmund 
Verney 100 


CONTENTS   OF  THE   SECOND   VOLUME  ix 

CHAPTER  VII. 

CONCERNING   EDMUND,    THE    YOUNG   CAVALIER. 

PAGE 

The  army  disbanded  in  1641 — Edmund  at  Claydon — His  pay 
in  arrears — Sent  to  Ireland — The  soldiers  without  food  or 
pay — Edmund  in  command  of  Dathcoffy  Castle— Remonstrates 
with  Ralph  on  his  taking  the  Parliament  side — Wounded  at 
Rathconnel — Serves  under  Ormonde — Edmund's  distress  at 
his  father's  death — Money  troubles — The  Alnage — The  Verney 
girls  petition  Parliament — The  law's  delays  ....  128 

CHAPTER  VIH. 

SIR  RALPH'S  CHOICE,  THE  COVENANT  OR  EXILE. 

Tom's  complaints  from  the  Fleet — Troubles  at  Gorhambury — 
'  Sogers'  and  plunderers —Heavy  taxes — Tom's  marriage  and 
release  from  prison — Current  news  from  Lady  Sussex — 
Doll  Leeke's  advice  to  Ralph — Sir  R.  Burgoyne's  letters — 
The  Covenant  taken  by  the  House — Ralph  refuses  to  sign, 
and  resolves  to  go  abroad — His  uncomplaining  heroism — 
Henry's  imprisonment — The  influenza — Ralph's  preparations 
for  departure — Transport  of  luggage — His  sisters  and  children 
— Household  difficulties  at  Claydon — The  Covenant  pressed 
upon  Members — Final  arrangements,  will,  and  farewells — 
The  voyage  to  Rotterdam — Despatch  of  goods  to  Rouen  .  148 

CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    BURNING   OF   HILLESDEN   HOUSE. 

Sir  Ralph's  letters  home — Hillesden  and  the  Dentons — Aunt 
Isham's  grievance — Hillesden  House  fortified,  besieged,  taken 
and  burnt— Sir  Alexander  Denton's  letters  from  the  Tower — 
Tom  imprisoned  at  Cambridge — Two  love-stories — Captain 
Abercrombie's  death — Colonel  John  Denton's  death — Sir 
Ralph's  condolences — Sir  Alexander's  death — Mrs.  Isham's 
troubles  .  . 186 

CHAPTER  X. 

IN    EXILE. 

Sir  Ralph  offends  both  sides — Gossip  in  the  '  Diurnals ' — Sir 
Ralph  voted  out  of  the  House  of  Commons — His  distress  at 
the  news — The  life  in  exile — Sir  Ralph's  books — Lady 


VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 


CHAPTER  X.—  continued.  PAGE 

Verney's  housekeeping — An  Englishman  and  his  French 
lacquey — Waiting-maids  and  waiting-gentlewomen — Luce 
and  Besse — French  schools — Christmas  stores  lost — Wigs, 
pomatums,  fans  and  fashions — Lord  Devonshire  goes  home — 
'  Mischiefe '  to  the  rescue — A  sad  parting  ....  210 


CHAPTER  XL 

MARY   LADY   VERNEY   '  SOLICITING.' 

Mary  in  England — Cipher  names — Expense  of  London  lodgings — 
Friends  estranged — Mary  sick  with  a  fever — The  Committee 
of  Sequestration — Interviews  with  Lady  Warwick — Puritan 
services — Henry's  '  horrid  tricks ' — Birth  of  Mary's  third  son — 
Ralph's  christening  and  journey  to  Clay  don — Tom's  abuse — 
Mary  goes  to  Claydon  and  Misterton — '  The  wayes,  the 
soldiers,  and  the  sicknesse' — Troublesome  creditors.  .  .  243 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MARY   LOSES    HER   CHILDREN   AND   WINS    HER   SUIT. 

Household  cares — Rats,  moths  and  rust — Soldiers  quartered  at 
Claydon — The  Rector  and  the  Agent  quarrel — The  '  ritch  fatt ' 
lawyer — Mrs.  Allcock's  wedding — Jack  and  Ralph — Peg's 
illness  and  death  at  Blois — Ralph's  death  at  Claydon — Bitter 
sorrow — Sir  Ralph's  counsels  of  despair — Mary's  petition 
granted — The  sequestration  of  Claydon  taken  off — Dr.  Denton 
has  a  wedding  feast — Mary's  journey — Husband  and  wife 
reunited 283 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

'  SIR   MUN  '    IS   TREACHEROUSLY    SLAIN. 

Sir  Edmund,  the  young  cavalier,  Governor  of  Chester — Siege  and 
surrender  of  Chester — Edmund  with  Ormonde  in  Ireland — 
Money  troubles — Edmund  at  Paris — Siege  of  Colchester — Sir 
George  Lucas  shot — Edmund  in  Ireland  again — False  report 
of  his  death  at  Dublin — Siege  of  Drogheda — Edmund  killed 
in  cold  blood — Cromwell's  letters  .  320 


CONTENTS   OF   THE   SECOND   VOLUME  xi 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    '  MACHES  '    OF   THE    FIVE    GIELS. 

PAGE 

Marriage  treaties,  portions  and  bargainings — Penelope  and  her 
cousin — Susan  and  her  widower — Money  troubles — Susan  in 
need  of  a  trousseau — Margaret  marries  Sir  Thomas  Elmes — 
Their  domestic  quarrels — Susan's  marriage — Mr.  Alport  in 
the  Fleet — Penelope  marries  John  Denton — Lady  Verney's 
opinion  of  her  sisters-in-law — Troubles  with  Mary  and  Eliza- 
beth— Elizabeth  at  school — The  Alports  at  Overton  Manor- 
Susan's  death — Her  funeral  at  Malpas  Church — Margaret 
Elmes'  death— Mary  marries  Robert  Lloyd,  of  Chester .  .  349 

CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  END  OF  MANY  THINGS  AND  PEOPLE. 

Sir  Ralph  and  Mary  at  Blois — Sir  Puckering  Newton,  the  gay 
buttertiy  of  society — Cromwell  in  power — Execution  of  King 
Charles — Loyalty  of  Westminster  School — The  King's  funeral 
— '  Eikon  Basilike ' — Mary  fails  in  health — Drinks  the  BourV.on 
waters — Tom  in  trouble  again — Henry  lives  '  like  the  wander- 
ing Jew' — Mary's  merry  messages — News  of  Edmund's  death 
— Mary's  death — Sir  Ralph's  despair  and  self-reproaches — Dr. 
Denton's  counsels — Mary's  funeral  at  Claydon — Her  husband's 
tribute  to  her  memory — Review  of  the  characters  of  Sir 
Edmund  and  Sir  Ralph  Verney  ......  391 

APPENDIX. 

Documents  concerning  Sir  Edmund  Verney's  claims  on  the 
Alnage.  From  Nalson's  Collection  of  MSS.,  Vol.  XV.,  in  the 
possession  of  the  Duke  of  Portland,  printed  by  his  kind 
permission  : — 

Petition  of  the  Verney  Girls  to  the  Honble.  Committee 

of  the  King's  Revenue         .         .         .         .         .         .     431 

The  Committee  refer  the  Petition  to  the  Solicitor- General 

for  his  Report      ........     433 

Report  of  Oliver  St.  John,  Solicitor-General    .         .         .     433 

Order  of  the  Committee  that  St.   John's  Report  le  re- 
ported to  the  House  of  Commons         ....     437 

INDEX  439 


NOTES   ON   THE   ILLUSTRATIONS 

TO   VOLUME    II. 


SIR  EDMUND  VERNEY,  KT.,  KNIGHT-MARSHALL  AND  STANDARD- 
BEARER  .........         Frontispiece 

From  a  picture  by  Vandyck  at  Claydon  House.  Vandyck  painted  this 
picture  by  order  of  Charles  I.,  who  gave  it  to  Sir  Edmund.  It  is 
mentioned  in  all  the  lists.  It  was  exhibited  at  the  old  British  Institu- 
tion Exhibition  of  Old  Masters,  and  pronounced  by  the  Curator  of  the 
Louvre  '  diablement  beau  ' ;  it  was  also  in  the  Vandyck  Exhibition. 
Sir  Edmund  has  a  ruddy  complexion  and  fair  hair  ;  he  is  in  armour 
with  a  red  sash,  with  his  Marshall's  staff,  the  original  of  which 
hangs  below  the  picture  at  Claydon  ;  the  helmet  was  delayed  by  the 
armourer  during  the  Scotch  war  (Vol.  i.  315),  and  arrived  after 
peace  was  declared ;  he  said  he  should  keep  it  henceforth  to  boil  his 
porridge  in. 

MARY  BLAKENEY,  WIFE  OF  THE  IST  SIR  EDMUND  VERNEY  to  face  p.  3 
From  a  picture  at  Claydon  House.  Two  pictures  of  'ould  Lady 
Verney '  appear  in  the  old  lists ;  one,  now  lost,  is  called  '  large,  with 
a  book  &  a  crutch ' — this  seems  to  be  the  one  mysteriously  de- 
scribed as  '  Grandmother  Verney  without  any  Strainer ! '  it  was 
labelled  at  the  back  '  a  Turville,'  the  name  of  her  first  husband. 

DAME  SUSAN  DENTON to  face  p.  6 

From  a  picture  at  Claydon  House  on  panel,  in  a  black  embroidered 
dress  and  beautiful  pearls.  This  is  the  old  lady  who  threatened  to 
dress  in  sackcloth  lined  with  ashes  (Vol.  i.  284)  when  her  daughter 
married  a  Papist,  and  who  was  so  kind  to  her  great-grandson,  Mun 
Verney. 

DAME  MARGARET  VERNEY to  face  p.  20 

From  a  bust  in  Middle  Claydon  Church,  from  the  monument  Sir  Ralph 
put  up  to  his  father  and  mother,  his  wife  and  himself ;  he  had  the 
busts  done  in  Home,  and,  excepting  his  own,  they  were  all  taken 
from  pictures.  Dame  Margaret's,  with  a  veil  on  her  head,  is  sweet, 
grave,  and  tender  in  expression. 


XIV      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

FACSIMILE  OF  SIR  RALPH'S  PENCIL  NOTES  TAKEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 
OF  COMMONS  DURING  THE  ATTEMPTED  ARREST  OF  THE  FIVE 
MEMBERS to  face  p.  37 

CHARLES  I. to  face  p.  80 

From  a  picture  by  Vandyck  at  Claydon  House,  given  to  Sir  Edmund 
Verney  by  the  king.  Charles  was  much  pleased  with  this  portrait,  and 
had  several  replicas  made ;  one  was  burnt  in  the  fire  at  Whitehall, 
another  is  in  the  Dresden  Gallery.  The  ring  figured  below  was  also  a 
present  from  the  king  to  Sir  Edmund,  and  is  now  at  Claydon.  The 
miniature  is  exquisitely  finished,  but  it  is  a  careworn  face  painted  in 
the  plain  daylight  of  ordinary  prose,  and,  in  contrast  with  the 
Vandyck,  shows  how.  much  the  memory  of  Charles  has  owed  to  the 
magic  of  that  great  painter's  art. 

SIR  EDMUND  VERNEY,  KT.  MARSHALL,  STANDARD-BEARER  TO 
CHARLES  I to  face  p.  126 

From  a  bust  in  Middle  Claydon  Church.  A  fine  soldierly-looking 
head  in  armour,  done  at  Rome. 

INTERIOR  OF  HILLESDEN  CHURCH p.  188 

From  a  pencil  drawing  by  Lady  Verney,  showing  the  large  Denton 
tomb  inside  the  altar-rails,  removed  when  the  church  was  restored; 
the  small  monument  catching  the  light  in  the  S.E.  corner  is  that  of 
Dr.  William  Denton. 

SIR  THOMAS  DENTON,  KT.,  OF  HILLESDEN    .         .         .  to  face  p.  189 
From  a  picture  at  Claydon  House.     A  stiff  old  portrait  in  the  dress  of 
James   I.'s   reign,   with   large    eyes    like    his    daughter    Margaret 
Verney's. 

SIR  ALEXANDER  DENTON,  KT.  ,  OF  HILLESDEN  .         .       to  fate  p.  200 
From  a  picture  at  Claydon ;   in  armour,  with   a  richly  embroidered 
scarf  over  his  shoulder ;  a  good  face,  but  too  sensitive  for  the  evil 
days  in  which  his  lot  was  cast. 

DAME  MARY  VERNEY,  DAU.  OF  JOHN  BLACKNALL,  ESQ.  .  to  face  p.  243 
From  a  picture  by  Vandyck  at  Claydon  House.  This  graceful  picture, 
painted  in  1636,  of  the  daughter-in-law  Sir  Edmund  loved  KO 
tenderly,  has  suffered  much  from  cleaning  and  scraping  by  a  wicked 
restorer ;  the  dress  is  pale  blue  satin  over  white,  with  pearls ;  the 
lively  expression  which  earned  her  the  name  of  '  Mischiefe  '  defied 
the  painter's  art.  Dr.  Denton  writes  to  her  that  all  her  portraits 
'  are  guiltie  of  one  fault,  which  is  a  simperinge  about  the  corners  of 
the  mouth,  which,  though  tolerable  in  your  worship  because  it 
appears  but  sometimes,  yett  is  not  graceful!  in  a  picture,  because  its 
always  there,  and  looks  like  affectation.' 

DR.  WILLIAM  DENTON,  PHYSICIAN  TO  CHARLES  I.      .     to  face  p.  295 
From  a  picture  at  Claydon ;  in  a  red  velvet  coat  and  buff  mantle. 
Shrewd,  kindly,  caustic,  clever,  he  had  a  sharp  word  for  his  friends' 
little   failings,  and  untiring   aid  and  sympathy  for   them   in   real 
troubles. 


NOTES   ON  THE   ILLUSTRATIONS  XV 

SIR  EDMTTND  VERNEY,  KT.       .        .      .  .        .        .        to  face,  p.  320 

From  a  picture  at  Claydon  House,  described  in  one  of  the  old  lists, 
with  a  passionate  vehemence  very  unlike  their  dry-as-dust  style,  as 
'  killed  in  cold  blood  by  the  Arch  Usurper  Cromwell  after  the  siege 
of  Drogheda."  In  armour,  a  charming  face,  intelligent  and  brave 
like  his  father's,  but  gentler,  and  with  the  same  reddish-brown  hair. 

SIR  GEORGE  LISLE,  KT to  face  p.  341 

From  a  picture  at  Claydon  House ;  in  armour,  an  unfinished  picture, 
probably  the  copy  of  a  Vandyck. 

DAME  MARY  VERNEY to  face  p.  414 

From  a  bust  in  Middle  Claydon  Church.  The  light  in  the  church  is 
unfavourable  for  photographing  this  bust ;  it  is  therefore  difficult 
to  render  the  gentle  gravity,  good-sense,  and  sweetness  of  the 
expression  in  the  original.  Her  curls  and  her  pearl  necklace  are 
managed  by  the  sculptor  with  great  skill ;  the  busts  give  a  high  idea 
of  the  art  at  Rome  in  the  year  1652. 


MEMOIRS  OF  THE  VEENEY  FAMILY 


DURING 


THE  CIVIL  WAR 

CHAPTER   I. 

DAME    MAEGAEET   VEENEY. 

The  clouds  that  gather  round  the  setting  sun 
Do  take  a  sober  colouring  from  an  eye 
That  hath  kept  watch  o'er  man's  mortality  ! 
Another  race  hath  been,  and  other  palms  are  won. 

WORDSWORTH. 

IN  the  beginning  of  April  1641  Margaret  Lady 
Verney  died  somewhat  suddenly.  She  is  mentioned 
as  having  been  ailing  for  some  time  past,  but  no  one 
seems  to  have  apprehended  any  danger.  Even  Lady 
Sussex,  who  was  in  weekly  communication  with  Sir 
Edmund  and  his  son,  had  not  the  least  expectation 
of  such  a  failure  in  her  strength,  and  writes  to  Ralph, 
April  9  :  '  The  unexpectede  sade  neuse  [news]  gave 
me  a  harty  soro,  most  for  your  lose  of  such  a  mother 
and  for  myselfe  of  soe  deare  a  friend.  This  world  is 
full  of  changes.  God  fit  us  for  his  plesure.  As  you 
are  truly  good,  so  in  this  show  your  religon  by  a 
discrete  soro,  that  you  fall  not  ill  this  sickly  time. 
Belive  non  wishes  more  happinesse  both  to  yourself 

VOL.    II.  B 


2 

and  family.'  She  adds  that  she  would  have  written 
also  to  his  wife,  but  '  I  am  out  of  tune  with  phy- 
sicke,  belive  me  i  truly  cuffer  [suffer].' 

Again  on  April  26  she  writes  :  '  Sr  I  shoulde  not 
say  anythinge  to  renue  your  soro,  but  a  better 
woman  livede  not  then  your  good  mother,  who 
sartinly  inioyes  the  fruite  of  her  goodnes  with 
the  blesede  sants,  i  am  glade  you  have  parlyment 
bisynes  to  take  you  off  your  sade  thoughts.  ...  I 
shall  ever  believe  I  have  so  great  an  interest  in  your 
favour  that  I  may  take  the  same  fridom  with  you  I 
have  formerly  don  uppon  my  occasyons.  I  entendede 
a  cote  [coat]  to  my  godsone  this  Easter,  and  now  I 
know  he  is  in  mourninge  therefore  have  sent  him  a 
porringer  to  ete  his  breakfast  in.' 

The  '  cote '  that  Lady  Sussex  had  planned  for 
little  Mun  was  of  a  lovely  sky-blue  figured,  satin. 
She  had  written  to  Ralph  to  get  her  the  stuff  in  town, 
and  the  pattern  she  sent  still  exists,  pinned  to  the 
scrap  of  paper  on  which  he  wrote  down  her  many 
commissions  ;  the  colour  is  as  brilliant  as  ever,  and 
seems  a  mute  reminder  amongst  the  old  brown 
letters,  of  the  many  bright  things  that  were  changed 
to  mourning  when  the  mother  of  the  family  died. 

Margaret  Verney  was  all  her  life  what  the 
French  happily  call  ires  entouree  ;  whenever  we 
see  her  she  is  claimed  by  a  chorus  of  little  voices, 
and  surrounded  by  a  troop  of  little  pattering  feet. 
In  her  old  home  she  was  the  eldest  daughter  in  a 
family  of  eleven,  and  she  kept  up  her  intimacy  with 


-  <WaA/u>  r  scJylaJMmg/ . 

•ft^c&ls  $ds.-  ^/<&nfs-u/. 


DAME   MARGARET   VERNEY  3 

her  brothers  and  sisters,  and  the  ever- increasing 
number  of  her  nephews  and  nieces.  Married  at 
eighteen,  she  returned  to  her  mother's  roof  for  her 
many  confinements  ;  her  elder  children  were  the 
contemporaries  of  her  younger  brothers  and  sisters  ; 
and  her  granddaughter  Anna  Maria  was  a  year  old 
when  her  youngest  child  Betty  was  born. 

Something  has  already  been  told  of  the  large 
circle  of  friends  constantly  entertained  at  Clay  don  in 
the  happy  years  before  the  Civil  War,  and  of  her 
motherly  care  of  her  eldest  son's  wife  Mary,  with 
whom  she  lived  on  terms  of  such  intimate  affection. 
It  was  a  remarkable  household  of  capable  women, 
and  besides  her  own  six  daughters,  her  daughter-in- 
law,  and  her  grandchildren,  Margaret  had  the  older 
generation  to  consider,  her  mother  and  her  mother- 
in-law.  Sir  Edmund's  mother  shared  their  house  in 
London,  and  expected  to  be  consulted  when  plans 
were  made  or  changed.  J-ames  Dillon  writes  to 
Mary  after  a  visit  to  Claydon  in  July  163?,  when 
the  dowager's  feelings  had  been  unfortunately  ruffled  : 
'  Be  pleased  I  pray  you  to  lett  my  Ladie  Verney 
[Margaret]  knowe,  that  I  noe  sooner  came  to  towne 
than  presently  I  gave  your  grandmother  heare  an 
account  of  her  messuage  by  me,  which  for  ought 
I  could  say  (or  see)  seemed  not  sufficient  unto  my 
ould  Lady  Verney  to  prevent  exception  on  her 
parte  against  your  mother,'  and  he  then  gives  his 
advice  as  to  how  a  letter  may  be  sent  by  coach  to 
pacify  her. 

B  2 


4          VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

In  1638  '  Lady  Verney  the  Elder '  desired  her 
grandson  Edmund  to  go  over  to  Albury  and  see  the 
condition  of  the  vault  in  which  her  husband,  Sir 
Edmund  Verney,  had  been  laid  in  1599.  He  writes 
to  Ralph,  that  he  could  not  go  there  himself,  '  but 
according  to  her  direction  I  acquainted  old  Roades 
with  it,  who  sent  a  messenger  thither  on  purpose  with  a 
noate  to  the  parson  (one  Gilpin,  a  Maudlen  Hall  man 
in  my  time,  and  I  think  in  yours  too),  who  came 
over  to  Claydon  himself  and  brought  the  answer,  that 
it  was  as  handsome  and  in  as  good  repaire  as  it  was 
when  my  grandfather  was  buryed  there,  he  proffered 
one  complement,  which  I  durst  not  acquaint  my 
grandmother  with,  that  upon  a  weeke's  warning  he 
would  be  provided  of  an  excellent  funerall  sermon 
for  her  ! ' 

There  was  ample  time  for  the  Reverend  Mr. 
Gilpin  to  polish  his  complimentary  periods,  as  the  old 
lady,  according  to  a  note  of  Lord  Fermanagh,  lived 
to  the  age  of  95,  having  survived  her  third  husband 
for  43  years.  Sir  Ralph,  writing  in  '47,  mentions 
a  legacy  which  grandmother  left  to  Moll,  '  in  that 
will  my  father  was  left  sole  executor,  but  hee  died 
before  grandmother  (14  or  15  daies),  soe  I  tooke 
out  the  administration  and  payd  all  legacies,'  etc. 
This  fixes  the  date  of  old  Lady  Verney 's  death  as 
November  7  or  8,  1642  ;  a  fortnight  after  the  battle 
of  Edgehill.1 

1  It  is  an   amusing   instance  of   the  inaccuracy  of  an   otherwise 
valuable  work   that  Lipscomb  in  his  history  of  Bucks  states  that  '  a 


DAME   MARGAKET   VERNEY  5 

Margaret  also  spent  a  part  of  the  year  with  her 
mother,  Dame  Susan  Denton,  who  survived  her  by  a 
few  months.1  Both  these  vigorous  old  ladies  lived  to 
superintend  the  bringing  up  of  their  great-grand- 
children. 

Indeed,  Lady  Denton,  who  was  so  stern  to  her  own 
daughters,  pleaded  for  a  gentler  regime  than  was  the 
fashion  of  the  day  for  the  little  ones  of  the  fourth 
generation.     Edmund,  Ralph's  eldest  boy,  had  been 
left  entirely  in  her  charge  at  Hillesden,  till  in  October 
1 639  he  was  sent  for  to  London.    His  father  and  grand- 
father complained  that  he  was  shy  and  rustic.    '  i  heare,' 
wrote  Lady  Denton,  '  he  is  disliked,  he  is  so  strange. 
Sonn,  you  did  see  he  was  not  soe,  nor  is  not  soe,  to 
any  where  he  is  a  quanted,  and  he  must  be  woone 
with   fair  menes.     Let   me   begge   of  you    and   his 
mothar  that  nobody  whip  him  but  Mr.  Parrye  ;  yf 
you  doe  goe  a  violent  waye  with  him,  you  will  be  the 
furst  that  will  rue  it,  for  i  veryly  beleve  he  will  reseve 
ingery  by  it.'    She  goes  on  to  remind  these  unreason- 
able men  that  she  can  remember  when  they,  too,  were 
shy  and  awkward  children.     '  Indede,  Raphe,  he  is  to 
younge  to  be  strudgeled  in  any  forsing  waye.     i  had 
intelygence  your  father  was  trobled  to  see  him  soe 
strange,     i  pray  tel  him  frome  me,  I  thought  he  had 
had  more  witt  then  to  thinck  a  childe  of  his  adge 
woulde   be   a   quanted   presently.     He    knowes    the 

popular  and   uncontradicted  tradition   has  always  represented   that 
Sir  Ed.  Verney's  mother  died  at  his  birth.' 

1  Lady  Denton's  mother,  Lady  Temple,  the  most  prolific  of  her 
race,  lived  to  see  370  of  her  descendants. 


6  VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

childe  was  feloe  good  a  nofe  in  my  house,  i  praye 
she  we  him  what  I  have  written  abought  him,  and  be 
shore  that  he  be  not  frited  by  no  menes  :  he  is  of  a 
gentel  swet  nature,  sone  corrected.'  It  gives  one  an 
idea  of  the  awful  severity  of  nursery  rule  in  those 
days,  that  the  great -grandmother  should  have  to  plead 
that  only  i  Mr.  Parrye  '  should  whip  a  child  not  yet 
three  years  old,  whose  face  and  ways  when  at  his  ease 
were  so  engaging,  that  his  soldier  uncle,  Edmund, 
wrote  of  him,  '  that  sweete  promising  countenance  of 
your  pretty  sonn  is  able  to  inspire  even  the  ignorant 
with  such  a  prophesying  spirit  ;  there's  not  that  linea- 
ment either  in  his  face  or  body,  but  prognosticates 
more  for  itself  than  we  cann  doe  for  it.' 

'  I  have  carryed  his  nurse  the  Rhubarb,  and  shee 
promiseth  he  shall  constantly  drinke  it,'  says  another 
letter  about  this  much-tried  infant. 

But  in  spite  of  the  '  whippinges,'  the  vomitings, 
the  '  sweating  pills,'  the  purgings  and  the  blood- 
lettings which  appear  in  the  family  records  with  pain- 
ful reiteration  and  detail,  Dame  Margaret's  govern- 
ment of  her  nursery  was  eminently  successful  and 
judicious.  Her  children  were  devoted  to  her,  and 
ten  out  of  the  twelve  lived  to  grow  up  in  health 
and  vigour  of  body  and  mind — a  most  unusual  pro- 
portion in  those  days. 

In  a  family  life  so  happy  and  so  like  our  own,  it 
is  quite  startling  to  find  what  good  sensible  women 
allowed  their  daughters  to  be  married  as  mere  chil- 
dren. (  Sweet  seventeen '  is  often  a  matron  inured 


DAME   MARGARET   VERNE Y  7 

to  family  cares,  and  either  the  mother  of  a  family, 
or  mourning  the  loss  of  two,  and  sometimes  three 
babies.  The  deaths  in  childbed,  the  premature 
births,  and  the  large  proportion  of  children  who  died 
before  they  were  ten  years  old,  passionately  loved 
and  tenderly  cared  for,  is  most  pathetic  ;  the  poetry 
of  the  day  is  full  of  epitaphs  upon  infants  ;  two  such 
are  found  in  the  Verney  manuscripts,  copied  out 
more  than  once  by  loving  hands.1 

Mary  had  her  full  share  of  these  troubles.  She  was 
only  sixteen  when  a  little  daughter  was  born  to  her 
at  Clay  don  on  July  21,  1632,  baptized  the  same 
day  in  her  mother's  name,  and  buried  the  next. 

The  cup  of  life  just  to  her  lips  she  press'd, 
Found  the  taste  bitter,  and  refused  the  rest, 
Then  gently  turning  from  the  light  of  day, 
She  softly  sighed  her  little  soul  away. 

How  tenderly  little  Mary's  memory  was  cherished 
appears  in  an  allusion  to  her  name,  in  a  letter  of 
Ralph's  to  his  wife,  fifteen  years  afterwards.  We  have 
a  shadowy  glimpse  of  another  baby,  who  apparently 
came  and  went  in  the  following  year,  for  there  is  a 

'  On  an  Infant. 

Heere  lies  a  blossum  of  the  worlds  greate  tree 
Wch  was  as  faire  as  Buds  of  Roses  bee. 
She  died  an  Infant  :  Heaven  was  made  for  suche. 
Live  thou  as  Infants  doe  shalt  have  as  muche. 

On  an  Infant. 

Tred  softly  passenger  for  heere  doethe  lie 

A  tender  parsell  of  aweet  Infancie, 

A  Harmeless  Babe  that  only  came  and  criede 

Through  Baptisme  to  be  washte  from  sinn.     So  died. 


8  VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

letter  of  condolence  from  Ralph's  old  tutor  Crowther, 
in  the  autumn  of  1633,  full  of  well-turned  phrases 
and  pious  platitudes.  In  August  1634  Crowther 
writes  to  him  again  :  '  I  shall  wish  and  pray  for  your 
happinesse  in  the  safe  delivery  of  your  wife  and  the 
glad  newes  of  a  lusty  heyre.' 

The  child  proved  to  be  a  girl,  and  was  welcomed 
with  rapturous  affection.  She  was  named  Anna 
Maria ;  James  Dillon  was  her  godfather,  and  she 
was  christened  on  September  16,  in  Middle  Clay  don 
church.  There  had  been  another  happy  family 
gathering  at  Claydon  a  fortnight  before  for  the 
christening  of  George,  son  of  Sir  Alexander  Denton 
and  Mary  Hampden  his  wife.  How  much  Sir  Edmund 
and  Dame  Margaret  loved  their  grandchildren  is 
shown  in  the  pathetic  letter  written  at  one  o'clock  in 
the  morning  by  Sir  Edmund  on  May  19,  1638,  when 
little  Anna  Maria  was  taken  ill  in  her  father's  absence. 

1  Raphe,  your  sweete  child  is  going  apace  to  a 
better  woarld  ;  shee  has  but  a  short  time  to  staye  with 
uss.  I  hope  you  have  such  a  sence  of  God's  blessings 
to  you  as  you  will  not  repine  at  his  decrees  ;  make 
all  convenient  haste  to  your  good  wife  who  wants 
your  comfort,  yet  come  not  too  faste  for  that  maye 
heate  your  bludd  ;  and  that  maye  give  an  end  to  all 
our  comforts  ;  as  ever  I  shall  intreat  anything  from 
you  take  care  of  yourselfe,  for  this  is  a  dangerous 
yeare  for  Heats  and  colds.  The  God  of  Heaven  Bless 
you,  your  loving  father.  Ed.  Verney.' 

As  the  little  one  was  buried  three    days   later, 


DAME    MARGARET   VERNEY  9 

Ralph  can  hardly  have  been  in  time  to  see  his  child 
again.  She  was  not  quite  four  years  old,  but  Ralph's 
letter  in  the  following  January  to  the  usually  un- 
sympathetic Henry,  then  serving  in  the  Nether- 
lands, shows  what  a  favourite  she  had  been  in  the 
family  : 

'  You  shall  herewithal  receive  a  ringe  filled  with 
my  deare  gerle's  haire  ;  shee  was  fond  of  you,  and 
you  loved  her  therefore  I  now  send  you  this  to  keepe 
for  her  sake.' 

But  the  empty  cradle  was  filled  again,  and  before 
Margaret  died  she  had  the  happiness  of  seeing  Ralph 
and  Mary  with  three  healthy  children  :  Edmund, 
Lady  Sussex's  godson,  and  old  Lady  Denton's  pro- 
tege, born  on  Christmas  Day,  1636  ;  Margaret,  born 
in  January  1638  ;  and  John,  born  November  5,  1640. 

We  hear  less  of  Margaret's  father,  Sir  Thomas 
Denton,  in  the  family  annals  than  of  her  mother,  but 
Ralph  was  much  attached  to  him,  and  on  his  death  in 
September  1633  he  wrote  a  passionate  letter  of  regrets 
to  Dillon  :  '  The  greate  God  in  whose  hand  is  the  soull 
of  every  livinge  thinge  hath  by  death  taken  my  grand- 
father into  an  endlesse  life.'  James  replies  affection- 
ately, grieving  for  the  loss  of  '  that  Living  comfort 
which  he  was  unto  you '  ;  but  he  goes  on  to  remind 
him  that  although  it  is  '  noe  small  crosse  to  loose  a 
grandfather/  yet  the  event  could  not  have  been  wholly 
unexpected — '  he  was  long  a  diseased  man,  and  un- 
likely to  live.'  He  therefore  advises  him  to  divert 
his  thoughts  with  {  Breerwood's  Logicke,'  and  '  the 


10         YERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

Figures  and  Tropes  Rhetorical! '  which  he  sends 
him  ;  whether  they  proved  a  more  effectual  medicine 
for  a  sad  heart  than  Crowther's  divinity  we  are  not 
told. 

The  letter  is  directed  outside,  '  To  my  dearest 
freinde  Raphe  Verney  Esqre  at  Claydon,'  and  he  con- 
cludes with  greetings  to  the  three  generations  of 
Verney  ladies  :  '  I  will  end  my  Letter,  but  without  end 
continue  yours  faythfully,  Ja  :  Dillon.  My  service 
I  beseech  to  Sir  Edmund,  both  the  Ladies,  Mrs<  Verney, 
and  my  sweet  brother.' 

There  are  incidental  notices  of  her  servants  that 
seem  to  show  that  Margaret  was  a  good  mistress,  and 
that  she  was  well  served.  The  maids  whom  she 
mentions  in  her  will  continued  in  faithful  attendance 
upon  her  daughters,  when  the  altered  fortunes  of  the 
family,  and  the  great  reduction  of  the  household, 
must  have  made  their  situations  at  Claydon  far  less 
desirable  than  they  had  been  under  their  old  mistress. 

Until  her  eldest  son  was  old  enough  to  help  her, 
the  affairs  of  the  family  were  all  managed  by  Lady 
Verney  ;  her  busy  husband  seems  to  have  relied 
implicitly  upon  her  judgment  and  business  capacity, 
whether  hi  making  arrangements  for  Tom's  voyage  to 
Virginia,  in  the  management  of  the  estate  at  Claydon, 
or  in  respect  to  those  powders,  '  excellent  to  prevent 
the  gowte,'  which  she  keeps  for  him,  and  sends  after 
him  to  Scotland,  when  he  is  tormented  by  '  ere  well 
twinges.' 

In    April  1636   Sir  Edmund  wrote  to  her  from 


DAME   MARGARET   VERNE  Y  11 

London :  '  Good  Puss,  The  plaage  is  likely  to  encrease. 
If  eyther  you  or  my  daughter  [i.e.  Ralph's  wife] 
can  thinke  of  what  you  shall  necessarily  want,  as 
gloves  &  such  things,  lett  me  know  it  in  time  &  I 
will  provide  them.  I  would  fame  have  the  carrier 
bring  up  a  cart  about  this  daye  fortnight,  if  it  maye 
be  no  prejudice  to  him,  &  then  if  the  sicknesse  encrease 
I  will  send  down  some  more  wyne,  &  what  els  you 
think  fit  ;  for  if  it  encrease  this  next  tow  weekes  it  is 
much  to  be  feared  that  it  will  be  a  dangerous  time 
here.'  Sir  Nat.  Hobart  writes  during  the  summer 
from  Highgate  to  thank  Ralph  '  for  the  frendly  care 
you  have  taken  to  provide  us  a  place  of  refuge  during 
this  contagion  .  .  .  The  K*  Marshall  Sir  Edmund 
Verney  graced  us  lately  with  his  company  some  two 
houres,  not  reckoning  one  spent  in  knocking  at  the 
gate,  for  the  house  was  soe  drownde  in  sylence  that 
there  wanted  nothing  but  a  red  cross  to  make  him. 
believe  the  plague  was  there.' 

The  number  of  deaths  from  the  plague  at  this 
time  was  very  serious  ;  but  such  was  the  unsanitary 
state  of  London  that  threatenings  of  infectious  diseases 
akin  to  the  plague,  if  not  the  scourge  itself,  were  con- 
tinually rife  until  the  fire  of  London  had  purified  the 
town  in  its  own  uncompromising  but  very  effectual 
manner.  There  had  been  a  bad  outbreak  in  the  year 
of  the  king's  accession,  and  again  in  1630. 

Margaret  was  arranging  to  send  up  some  poor 
people  to  be  touched  by  the  king,  and  her  husband 
writes  again,  '  Good  Puss,  for  those  people  you  wright 


12         VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING  THE    CIVIL   WAR 

about  to  have  cure  for  the  King's  Evil,  I  will  have 
all  the  charge  of  them  I  can,  but  till  good  Fryday  he 
will  heal  none.  I  believe  he  will  heal  that  day  and 
in  Easter  hollidayes.'  About  the  cure  itself  there 
seems  to  be  no  doubt  ! 

It  is  a  proof  of  the  kind  of  estimation  in  which 
Henrietta  Maria's  Court  was  held  by  the  graver  and 
more  religious  of  the  English  ladies  that  there  is  no 
sign  that  either  of  the  Lady  Verneys,  Lady  Sussex, 
although  a  Peer's  wife,  or  Mrs.  Eure,  ever  attended 
it.  They  were  all  women  well-born,  well-connected, 
of  fortune  and  position,  but  the  only  notices  of  the 
queen  in  any  of  the  letters  consist  in  a  scornful  phrase 
of  Lady  Sussex  '  that  the  Quene  will  be  quite  happy 
now  with  so  many  favorites  about  her '  (Harry 
Jermyn  being  mentioned  just  before,  whom  it  was 
supposed  that  she  married  after  Charles's  death  when 
living  as  a  widow  at  St.  Germain),  and  Sir  Ralph's 
laughing  excuse  that  he  cannot  go  to  some  place  as 
a  friend  requests  him,  for  that,  '  according  to  the 
example  of  our  gratious  sovereign,  I  must  obey  my 
wife  and  she  comands  my  presence  on  the  26th.' 

It  was  the  more  remarkable  in  the  case  of  Sir 
Edmund's  wife,  as  he  was  himself  in  attendance  on 
the  king  during  so  large  a  part  of  the  year,  that  her 
absence  from  Court  must  have  been  somewhat  marked. 
Margaret  Yerney  was,  however,  a  gentle,  retiring 
woman,  much  occupied  with  her  duties  at  home,  and 
whose  ideas  of  life  more  resembled  those  of  Mrs. 
Hutchinson  and  Rachel  Lady  Russell  than  of  the 


DAME   MARGARET  VERNE  Y  13 

ladies  whom  Henrietta  Maria  gathered  about  her  in 
the  years  of  her  splendour. 

Such  a  woman  Habington  describes  in  his  '  Castara/ 
the  second  edition  of  which  appeared  in  1635  : — 

She  sailes  by  that  rocke,  the  Court, 
Where  oft  honour  splits  her  mast, 
And  retir'dnesse  thinks  the  port 
Where  her  fame  may  anchor  cast. 
Vertue  safely  cannot  sit 
Where  vice  is  enthron'd  for  wit. 

The  converts  to  Roman  Catholicism,  whom  the 
queen  patronised  so  ostentatiously,  would  not  recom- 
mend the  society  of  the  Court  to  women  of  such 
strong  Protestant  feeling  as  the  Yerneys. 

The  fatigues,  anxieties,  and  conflicting  duties 
of  her  later  years,  the  necessity  of  leaving  her  young 
children  at  Claydon  very  much  to  their  own  guid- 
ance, or  of  giving  up  the  comfort  of  the  husband  who 
required  a  home  in  London  for  a  large  part  of  the 
year,  and  to  whom  she  was  so  warmly  attached,  had 
evidently  all  told  upon  her  health.  There  were  also 
perpetual  money  difficulties,  the  most  wearing  of  all 
cares  to  the  mistress  of  a  family.  Her  ten  children, 
each  and  all,  were  becoming  more  and  more  expensive  ; 
none  of  them,  excepting  Ralph,  independent  of  home 
help,  while  Sir  Edmund's  resources  diminished.  In 
addition  to  these  causes  for  disquietude  there  was  the 
growing  antagonism  between  the  two  parties  in  the 
State.  Her  son  Ralph  had  very  decidedly  taken  the 
Parliament  side,  while  her  husband  was  in  a  most 
painful  position  ;  attached  to  the  king  by  all  his  pre- 


14         VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

possessions  and  inherited  feelings  of  loyalty,  but  torn 
in  sunder  by  his  political  and  religious  sympathies, 
which  drew  him  the  other  way.  The  fear  of  an 
estrangement  between  the  two  who  loved  each  other 
so  well,  signs  of  which  sometimes  now  began  to 
appear,  must  have  been  peculiarly  distressing  to  so 
tender  a  wife  and  mother  as  Margaret.  It  was 
hardly  to  be  wondered  at  if  a  little  more  illness  than 
usual  under  such  circumstances  should  prove  fatal. 

She  kept  up  to  the  last,  and  seems  to  have  been 
alarmingly  ill  only  for  a  few  days  in  Covent  Garden. 
Her  husband  and  son  were  both  with  her  and  accom- 
panied her  body  down  to  Claydon,  where  she  was 
buried  in  the  chancel  close  to  the  house.  The 
absorbing  duties  of  Parliament  admitted  of  no  long 
absence  ;  they  were  in  the  very  midst  of  Stratford's 
trial,  and  as  soon  as  the  funeral  was  over  Sir  Edmund 
and  Sir  Ralph  seem  both  to  have  returned  to  West- 
minster. Young  Edmund  did  not  hear  till  July  of 
his  mother's  death,  and  then  wrote  to  Lady  Verney  : 
1  My  dearest  Sister,  I  wondered  not  at  all  at  your 
silence,  because  the  conveyance  of  letters  is  soe  un- 
certaine,  but  now  I  know  why  you  did  not  write  I 
am  very  sorry  not  for  your  silence,  tho'  nothing  could 
be  more  wellcome  to  me  than  your  letters  but  for 
having  so  sadd  a  cause  for  it.  Tis  most  true  the 
lose  of  our  Mother  was  infinite,  but  I'll  not  torture 
you  by  expressing  it  more  largely.' 

Ralph,  dearly  as  he  loved  his  mother  and  truly 
as  he  lamented  her  loss,  could  not  resist  the  ternpta- 


DAME   MARGARET   VERNE Y  15 

tion  of  making  his  grief  curvet  and  prance  in  the 
most  approved  forms  and  fashions  of  the  day.  On 
June  7  he  wrote  to  Lady  Barryinore  in  Ireland  :  '  that 
I  writ  no  sooner  I  wonder  not,  for  I  have  been  soe 
much  a  troubled,  soe  much  a  perplexed  man,  that  I 
confesse  I  could  neither  write  nor  speak  nor  thinke 
anything  but  one,  and  that  a  thinge  alas  too  sorrowful 
to  write  or  speake  or  thinke.  My  deare  Mother  is  dead, 
nor  sighs,  nor  groans,  nor  prayers  could  withhold  her 
from  the  jaws  of  death,  nor  the  desiers  and  petitions 
of  all  who  knew  her.  By  death  shee  is  gone  into  an 
endless  life.  I  have  lost  a  deare  and  careful  Mother, 
and  you  a  faithfull  servant.'  He  then  goes  off  into 
politics,  which  at  that  moment  could  hardly  be  set 
aside. 

The  expenses  of  mourning  must  have  been  very 
great,  as  it  was  the  custom  to  send  it  to  all  intimate 
friends  as  well  as  to  near  relations.  Lady  Sus- 
sex thanks  Ralph  for  the  offer  of  it,  but  says  that 
as  she  is  seeing  no  one  at  Gorhambury,  where  her 
husband  is  seriously  ill,  she  will  not  accept  of  any. 
Everything  belonging  to  a  widow  or  widower  was  to 
be  black.  On  April  6,  Ralph  mentions  the  black 
bed  and  hangings  '  that  my  father  borrowed  of  my 
aunt  Eure '  which  she  had  caused  Ralph  to  buy  for 
her  at  the  death  of  her  own  husband  three  years 
before,  when  her  whole  room  was  hung  with  black 
and  the  furniture  covered  with  it.  A  list  of  thirteen 
'  pieces '  is  mentioned,  '  blacke  clothe  hanginges 
three  yardes  deepe  and  foure  and  a  halfe  yardes 


16         VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE    CIVIL   WAR 

longe,'  two  others  '  three  yardes  deepe  and  three 
yardes  longe.'  The  effect  must  have  been  most 
depressing  upon  those  whom  custom  thus  compelled, 
at  the  very  moment  when  they  wanted  cheering,  to 
inhabit  a  room  where  they  could  not  for  a  moment 
forget  their  loss.  An  excuse  is  made  in  one  of  the 
letters  for  having  even  a  white  coverlet  thrown  over 
the  bed  of  a  young  Verney  widow  forty  years  after 
this  time,  because  she  is  sick  and  cannot  bear  black 
cloth. 

On  August  3  Sir  Edmund  writes  to  Roades  to 
'  gett  the  oulde  saddles  at  home  covered  with 
blacke,  against  I  use  them,  which  I  thinke  will  be 
about  the  beginning  of  the  next  weeke.  You  may 
do  them  at  Buckingham  either  with  cloath  or  baize, 
and  if  you  have  no  blacke  bridels,  sende  me  worde 
and  I  will  buy  some  here.'  Even  the  use  of  a 
'  blacke  coche,'  for  some  time  after  a  death  was  con- 
sidered correct,  and  Sir  Ralph  sends  to  borrow  one 
for  his  own  use  after  the  death  of  his  son  John's  wife 
about  thirty  years  later. 

Lady  Barrymore,  writing  in  July  from  Gastle 
Lyon  in  answer  to  Ralph's  letter,  says  :  '  Noble 
Enemey,  I  shall  begge  your  belief  that  there  is  no  one 
so  unfortunate  as  to  have  so  littel  acquaintance  with 
my  lady  that  was  more  truly  sorrowfull  for  her  loss 
than  myself.  Butt  schach  grete  blessinges  are  not 
given  us  from  God  with  a  fixte  time  when  wee  should 
parte  with  them  or  how  long  wee  shall  keepe  them, 
because  we  should  always  pray  to  him  for  the  con- 


DAME    MARGARET   VERNEY  17 

tinuance  of  the  happiness  ;  and  my  prayers  shall  be 
that  we  may  all  tread  in  those  paths  she  did,  that  we 
may  enjoy  the  felicity  shee  now  doth  and  ever  shall 
possess.  As  hi  the  fruition  of  her  unspeakable  con- 
tent I  beseech  you  to  comfort  yourself.' 

Lady  Verney's  will,  which  was  made  in  the  year 
1639  and  was  addressed  to  Ralph,  is  very  touching. 
She  had  a  good  fortune,  indeed  a  large  one  for  the 
time,  but  this  seems  to  have  been  merged  in  the 
Claydon  estate,  as  she  mentions  '  All  such  of  my 
goods  wcb  yr  father  hathe  given  me  leave  to  dispose 
of.  ...  A  hundred  pounds  in  my  Red  Box  give 
your  father  toe  by  what  hee  pleases  toe  keepe  for  me.' 
(She  seems  to  have  kept  a  good  deal  of  money  in  the 
house.)  She  is  very  particular  about  the  disposal  of 
her  linen  and  the  fine  holland  sheets  of  four  breadths, 
&c.,  '  which  were  never  yet  washed.'  '  Give  your 
wiffe,  my  diamonde  elapses,  sheepe  heade  and  the 
reste  of  my  odd  diamonds  and  my  sable  muffe  and 
six  of  my  new  greate  smockes.'  His  eldest  son, 
then  four  years  old,  was  to  have  the  sheets  nnd  a 
diamond  ring  and  WOl.  '  put  out  until  he  is  a  neare 
toe  bee  married,  then,  bestow  it  in  good  plate  as  ffarr 
as  it  will  in  that  whch  is  moste  yousefull  for  him.  .  .  . 
Give  Allcocke1  40/.,  the  poore  at  Middle  Cleadon 
five  pounds,  Mr.  Aris 2  51.  ;  .  .  .  Betty  Coleman  101. 
toe  plase  [place]  her  and  pray  take  som  care  toe  see 
her  plased  with  it.  ...  If  cooke  is  with  me.  give  her 
sum  31.  and  sum  of  my  worser  gowns,  and  give  my 

1  The  housekeeper.  2  The  rector. 

VOL.    II.  C 


18         VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

man  accordinge  as  he  is.  ...  Give  your  father  my 
guilte  tankard  and  the  case  of  silver-hafted  knives, 
and  dessier  him  to  leave  them  to  your  elldist  sonn. 
.  .  .  Bestow  sum  11.  apeece  of  toyes  or  blake  ringes 
for  my  mother,  my  brothers  and  sisters  and  their 
husbands  and  wives.  .  .  .  There  are  4  verry  tine 
smokes  [smocks]  in  your  father's  little  linnen  tronke 
and  one  of  my  four  breadthe  Hollande  sheets  for 
your  owiie  Gerle  Pegge  .  .  .  there  is  monie  enough 
in  the  Red  Box  which  with  the  firste  halfe  years 
intrust  will  pay  your  father  and  the  1  pound  toys 
presently.  .  .  .  Pay  the  undermaids,  and  poore,  and 
Mr.  Aris  next  before  the  bigger  sums.  .  .  .' 

The  items  are  sadly  mixed,  but  she  returns 
touchingly  to  her  husband  again  and  again.  '  Take 
your  father's  tablett  Picktuer  yourselfe  and  give  him 
Prince  Henneris.  They  boathe  lye  in  the  Red  Box, 
and  I  dessier  your  father  that  hee  will  nott  lett  anie 
of  my  Housolde  Linnen  bee  soulde,  but  that  it  may 
goe  toe  you  and  your  elldiste  sonn  and  I  hope  to  his 
sonn  toe,  only  sum  of  my  brodeste  of  my  owne 
makinge  give  toe  your  sisters.  .  .  .  Now  pray  lett 
non  of  my  papers  bee  seene  ;  but  doe  you  burne 
them  yrselfe.  All  but  my  noats  and  account  and 
medsinable  and  coockery  Boockes,  such  keep.  .  .  . 
Let  me  be  buried  in  leade  att  Claydon  next  where 
y1  ffather  porposes  to  ly  himselfe,  and  lett  noe 
strandger  winde  me,  nor  doe  nott  lett  me  bee  striptte, 
but  put  me  a  clean e  smoke  over  me  ...  and  lett 
my  fase  be  hid  and  doe  you  stay  in  the  roome  and 


DAME   MARGARET   VERNE Y  19 

see  me  wounde  and  layed  in  the  firste  coffin,  which 
must  be  woode  if  I  doe  nott  dye  of  anie  infectious 
disease,  ellse  I  am  so  far  from  dessieringe  it  that 
I  forbid  you  to  com  neare  me.  So  the  God  of 
Heaven  bless  you  all.' 

Probably  the  marks  of  the  great  burns  made  the 
poor  woman  unwilling  that  any  '  strandger  should 
winde  her,'  and  to  ask  her  beloved  Ralph  to  see  that 
all  such  tender  offices  were  reverently  done,  though 
with  the  pathetic  proviso  that  he  was  not  to  come 
near  her  to  his  own  hurt.  Thus  died  Margaret 
Verney,  aged  47  ;  taken  away  from  the  evil  to  come, 
before  the  death  of  her  husband  in  battle,  the 
burning  down  of  her  old  home  at  Hillesden  and  the 
death  of  her  brother  ;  before  the  sequestration  of 
Claydon  and  the  long  weary  years  of  her  beloved 
Ralph's  exile  ;  before  the  murder  in  cold  blood  of 
her  gallant  son  Edmund  and  the  downfall  of  that 
monarchy  which  her  own  and  her  husband's  family 
had  made  so  many  sacrifices  to  uphold. 


c  2 


20         VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE    CIVIL   WAR 


CHAPTER  II. 

SIR  KALPH'S  NOTES,  THE  GRAND  REMONSTRANCE,  AND 
THE  ATTEMPT  ON  THE  FIVE  MEMBERS. 

Pym.  A  goodly  thing 

We  all  say,  friends,  it  is  a  goodly  thing 
To  right  that  England*     Heaven  grows  dark  above  : 
Let's  snatch  one  moment  ere  the  thunder  fall, 
To  say  how  well  the  English  spirit  comes  out 
Beneath  it  !     All  have  done  their  best,  indeed, 
From  lion  Eliot,  that  grand  Englishman, 
To  the  least  here  :  and  who  the  least  one  here, 
When  she  is  saved  (for  her  redemption  dawns 
Dimly,  most  dimly,  but  it  dawns — it  dawns) 
Who'd  give  at  any  price  his  hope  away 
Of  being  named  along  with  the  Great  Men  ? 
We  would  not — no,  we  would  not  give  that  up. 

BROWNING'S  Straffbrd. 

ON  Wednesday,  April  7,  1641,  Ralph  had  buried  his 
mother  in  the  little  church  at  Middle  Clay- 
don,  where  her  grave,  gentle  face,  in  white  marble, 
has  looked  down  upon  so  many  successive  genera- 
tions, working,  rejoicing,  sorrowing,  in  the  place 
where  she  too  loved  to  worship.  On  the  Monday 
following,  her  son  had  perforce  laid  aside  his  grief, 
and  was  taking  notes  again  in  his  place  in  the 
House  of  Commons.  All  through  that  eventful 
year  the  men  who  were  making  the  history  of 
England  were  debating  all  possible  subjects,  human 


SIR   RALPH'S   NOTES  21 

and  divine,  and  in  the  intervals  of  Strafford's  trial 
Sir  Ralph  makes  notes  of  discussions  on  the  privilege 
of  Parliament,  on  the  payment  of  the  Navy  and 
Army,  on  restraining  persons  in  holy  orders  from 
intermeddling  in  secular  affairs,  on  the  abolishing 
of  episcopacy,  and  a  scheme  for  the  '  advancement 
of  lerninge. 

'  1.  A  grammer  schole  to  be  maintayned  by  every 
Cathedral  church,  and  they  are  to  appoint  schol- 
masters  and  send  out  best  schollers. 

'  2.  Encouragement  of  students.  This  is  the 
prize  they  aim  at.  Noe  schollards  admitted  ;  noe 
bookes  sould ' — a  free  education  for  the  poor  being 
apparently  aimed  at.  They  are  anxious  to  utilise 
cathedrals,  '  the  first  monuments  of  Christianity.' 
While  in  these  points  we  have  hardly  yet  attained  to 
the  ideal  of  the  Long  Parliament,  a  degenerate 
generation  no  longer  desires  as  they  did  to  re- 
vive '  Local  statutes  to  appoint  sermons  almost  every 
day.  Desier  a  spur  in  this '  ;  they  even  discuss  with 
more  interest  than  we  should  expect  from  our 
present  House  of  Commons,  the  question  of  church 
music.  '  'Tis  not  edifiing,'  said  the  learned  Dr. 
Hackett,  '  being  soe  full  of  art,  but  leave  a  solome 
musick.'  Here  their  zeal  was,  however,  sadly  mis- 
placed. It  was  the  golden  age  of  English  Church 
music.  The  anthems  and  chants  of  Tallis,  Farrant, 
and  Orlando  Gibbons,  were  at  once  deeply  learned, 
dignified,  and  beautiful.  These  discussions  were  the 
first  mutterings  of  the  storm  which  swept  away  the 


22 

Cathedral  and  Collegiate  Choirs,  the  organs  and  the 
music  books  throughout  the  kingdom.1  Music  in  its 
turn  is  succeeded  by  the  grievances  of  the  vintners, 
the  abuses  of  the  farmers  of  the  customs,  the  intense 
excitement  about  the  Army  Plot,  and  the  stirring 
debate  upon  the  prosecution  of  Sir  John  Eliotr 
Selden,  and  others,  for  their  conduct  in  the  Parlia- 
ment of  1629.  '  Sir  Ralph  Verney's  note  of  this 
case,'  says  Mr.  Bruce,  4s  a  good  specimen  of  his 
ability  as  a  reporter.  He  tells  the  tale  briefly  but 
clearly,  with  legal  precision  and  completeness,  and 
(not  without  one  or  two  glances  at  the  pathetic  inci- 
dents which  distinguished  it.  For  eight  months,  we 
learn,  these  patriotic  men  were  kept  "  without  use  of 
pen,  inke  or  paper,"  and  such  was  the  rigour  of 
their  confinement  that  Eliot's  casement  being  open, 
the  lieutenant  of  the  Tower  was  chidden.' 

In  July,  1641,  Sir  Ralph  sat  on  a  committee  with 
Pym,  Hampden,  Sir  Henry  Vane,  Sir  John  Hotham, 
Sir  Nathaniel  Fiennes,  and  others,  to  settle  a  most 
curious  and  delicate  piece  of  business.  The  queen 
desired  to  take  the  Spa  waters  for  the  recovery  of  her 
health,  '  which  her  Majesty  alledged  was  much  im- 
paired by  some  discontents  of  mind  and  false  rumours 
and  libels  spread  concerning  her.'  She  also  stated 
that  she  wished  to  take  to  Holland  her  daughter 
Mary,  who  had  been  betrothed  in  person  at  ten  years 
old  to  the  Prince  of  Orange,  aged  fourteen,  in  the 
midst  of  all  the  excitement  of  Strafford's  trial.  Her 

1  See  Rockstro's  History  of  Mmic,  p.  160,  &c. 


SIR   RALPH'S  NOTES  23 

enemies  contended  that  there  was  nothing  the  matter 
with  her,  '  that  greate  quantities  of  treasure  are  pre- 
paired  to  be  transported '  to  raise  troops  for  the  king 
in  France  and  Holland,  and  to  intrigue  in  general 
with  those  diabolical  enemies  to  God  and  man — the 
Papists. 

Could  an  odder  task  be  undertaken  by  some  half- 
dozen  English  gentlemen  than  to  determine,  when  the 
first  lady  in  the  land  said  that  she  was  sick,  whether 
her  symptoms  were  feigned  or  genuine,  and  to  settle 
for  her  the  proprieties  and  decorums  of  her  daughter's 
marriage  ? 

The  committee,  nothing  daunted,  commanded  the 
'  phisition  to  bee  sworne '  ;  it  was  not  Dr.  Denton  this 
time,  but  Sir  Theodore  Mayerne,  who  had  attended 
Prince  Henry  in  his  last  illness.  He  would  have 
been  a  miserable  Court  physician  if  he  could  not  have 
proved  that  the  queen  was  seriously  ill,  when  she 
desired  to  be  so,  and  when  the  committee  submitted 
to  him  that  '  the  water  may  as  well  come  hither  as 
to  Utrik,'  he  was  equal  to  the  occasion  ;  it  was  not  a 
question  of  whether  the  water  could  be  brought  to 
London,  he  said,  '  Spaw  water  is  riot  fit  for  her  at 
present,  her  body  not  being  prepared,'  .  .  .  '  any 
change,  of  aire  would  doe. her  good,  bee  it  what  it  will.' 
When  told  that  the  queen  specially  desired  to  drink 
the  waters,  he  admits  that '  Shee  hath  a  greate  oppinion 
of  the  Spaw  water,'  that  '  Waters  have  twice  donn 
her  good  and  Spaw  water  is  better  then  the  best 
waters  in  England.'  But  '  to  cure  her  body,  her 


24 

mind  must  be  quieted,  the  Queen  is  sick  in  body  and 
in  minde,  and  thinks  shee  cannot  recover '  ;  she  must  be 
'  out  of  reach  of  imployments  that  may  disturbe  her.' 
'  Shee  believes  she  is  very  ill,'  he  is  careful  to  lay  some 
of  the  responsibility  on  the  patient ;  '  Unlesse  remedies 
bee  used  she  cannot  live/  there  should  be  no  delay, 
this  was  the  14th  of  July,  *  and  the  waters  must  be 
taken  between  this  and  the  midle  of  August.' 

Beaten  on  the  question  of  health,  the  committee 
decided  that,  '  As  it  will  bee  a  dishonour  not  to  have 
the  queen  attended  as  she  should  bee,  so  it  will 
bee  unsupportable  to  afford  her  so  much  cost  as  will 
support  the  jorney.'  As  to  the  Princess  Mary,  Sir 
Ralph  (honest  man,  whose  own  wife  was  betrothed  to 
him  as  a  child,  and  then  brought  up  under  his 
mother's  roof)  and  his  colleagues,  are  horrified  at  the 
gross  impropriety  of  the  princess  going  under  her 
mother's  care  to  visit  her  future  husband's  family. 
They  protest  against  '  the  dishonour  that  may  happen 
to  this  nation  in  respect  the  princess  is  not  of  years, 
and  soe  the  match  may  breake,  and  she  sent  back 
with  dishonour,'  and  '  the  disadvantage  it  will  bee  to 
have  her  kept  with  her  husband  untell  the  marriage 
is  accomplished.'  A  contemporary  portrait  represents 
the  child -bride  as  a  rather  prim  little  girl,  in  a  red 
frock  and  white  cap  and  apron,  with  a  gold  coin  of  her 
father's  attached  to  a  ribbon  hung  over  her  shoulder. 
The  queen  bowed  to  the  storm,  and  Sir  Ralph 
reports  her  answer  to  the  committee  of  both  Houses 
which  came  with  '  reasons  to  disswade  her.'  She 


SIR   RALPH'S   NOTES  25 

thanks  them  with  ironical  courtesy  for  '  there  greate 
care  of  ray  health  and  for  there  affection  to  me ' ;  she  is 
ready  '  at  the  hazard  of  my  life'  to  forego  the  '  Spaw  ' 
water  and  the  change  of  air  to  '  serve  the  Kinge  and 
this  kingdom,'  and  she  apologises  '  for  the  imperfect- 
nesse  of  my  English,  I  had  rather  have  spoke  in  any 
other  language,  but  I  thought  this  would  bee  most 
acceptable.'  When  Henrietta  Maria  next  determined 
to  go  abroad,  in  February  1642,  she  did  not  wait 
to  consult  her  affectionate  friends  the  Commons, 
she  certainly  did  her  best  to  justify  all  their  previous 
objections  to  her  leaving  the  country,  but  she  took 
good  care  of  her  little  daughter  whose  education 
she  superintended  during  the  year  she  remained  in 
Holland,  and  whom  she  left  under  the  personal  care 
of  the  Princess  of  Orange. 

In  November  the  House  was  absorbed  in  the 
preparation  of  the  Grand  Remonstrance,  the  greatest 
step  yet  taken  towards  a  breach  with  the  king  ;  it 
was,  in  fact,  an  appeal  to  the  nation,  not  an  address 
to  the  crown. 

The  Remonstrance  declared  that  '  the  malignant 
and  pernicious  design  of  subverting  the  fundamental 
laws  and  principles  of  government,  upon  which  the 
religion  and  justice  of  the  kingdom  rested,  was  enter- 
tained by  the  papists,  bishops,  and  evil  counsellors, 
who  had  suppressed  the  purity  of  religion,  favoured 
Arminians,'  l  countenanced  opinions  and  ceremonies 

1  '  What  do  the  Arminians  hold  ? '  was  asked  of  Morley,  after- 
wards Bishop  of  Winchester  and  one  of  Sir  Ralph's  correspondents. 
'  All  the  best  Bishoprics  and  Deaneries  in  England,'  answered  he. 


26         VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

fitted  for  Popery,  and  had  depressed  the  Puritans. 
They  expressly  declare  that  there  must  be  con- 
formity in  religion  ;  each  party  thinks  '  that  Heaven 
is  the  lock  to  its  own  key.' 

Toleration  was  indeed  part  of  the  creed  of  the 
Independents,  but  public  opinion  was  not  ripe  for 
it,  and  intolerance  was  equally  bitter  amongst  High 
Churchmen  and  Presbyterians.  A  Presbyterian 
tract,  written  certainly  two  years  after  this  time, 
seeking  to  blacken  the  Sectaries,  says  :  '  Under 
these  fair  colours  and  handsome  pretexts  do 
Sectaries  infuse  their  poison,  I  mean  their  perni- 
cious God-provoking,  truth-defacing,  church-ruina- 
ting and  state-shaking  Toleration.'  Edwards,  in  the 
'Gangrene,'  says  :  '  A  Toleration  is  the  grand  designe 
of  the  Devil,  his  Masterpeece,  and  cheif  Engine  he 
works  by  at  this  time  .  .  .  most  compendious, 
ready,  sure  way  to  destroy  all  Religion,  lay  all  waste, 
and  bring  in  all  evil.  It  is  a  most  Transcendent, 
Catholike,  and  Fundamental  evil,  for  this  Kingdom 
of  any  than  can  be  imagined.'  (That  the  adjectives 
should  run  in  threes  was  evidently  held  to  have  a 
most  convincing  effect  in  such  documents.)  'A 
Toleration  hath  all  Errors  in  it  and  all  Evils.' 

In  1648  the  Presbyterians  passed  an  ordinance  in 
Parliament  { for  the  suppression  of  blasphemies  and 
heresies,  enacting,  that  if  the  party  doth  not  abjure 
his  error,  or  having  abjured  should  relapse,  he  should 
suffer  death  without  benefit  of  clergy '  ;  while  '  the 
Church  of  Manchester'  drew  up  a  protest  against 


SIR  RALPH'S  NOTES  27 

the  evil  thing,  which  said  :  '  We  have  searched  the 
Scriptures  and  cannot  find  that  ever  such  a  thing 
was  practised  with  approbation  from  God,  from  the 
time  that  Adam  was  created  on  the  earth.' 

When  Presbyterianism  had  become  nominally  the 
established  religion  in  England,  Sir  Ralph's  opinion  is 
as  strong  as  was  that  of  Milton,  that  '  new  Presbyter 
is  but  old  Priest  writ  large.' 

Sir  Ralph's  notes  of  the  debate  on  the  Remon- 
strance of  November  22,  1641,  furnish,  as  Mr.  Bruce 
says,  '  a  brief  but  most  valuable  report '  of  it ;  but, 
brief  and  authentic  as  they  are,  the  notes  are  tire- 
some reading,  and  only  an  abridged  account  of  them 
is  given  here. 

The  discussion  had  begun  on  Saturday,  Nov- 
ember 20,  but  it  was  so  late  in  the  day  that  it  was 
delayed  till  the  Monday  following.  'Why  would 
you  have  it  put  off  ? '  said  Cromwell  to  Falkland. 
'  There  would  not  have  been  time  enough,  for  sure  it 
will  take  some  debate,'  answered  the  other.  '  A  very 
sorry  one,'  Cromwell  replied  contemptuously. 

Sir  Ralph  first  reports  '  Mr.  Hide's  '  speech,  in 
which  he  declared  that  '  the  end  of  this  remonstrance 
is  peace,'  and  that  '  wee  stand  upon  our  liberties  for 
the  king's  sake,  least  hee  should  bee  king  of  meane 
subjects,  or  wee  subjects  of  a  meane  king.'  Lord 
Falkland,  who  spoke  next,  complained  both  of  the 
attack  on  the  Armiiiians  and  the  bishops.  '  Bellum 
episcopale,'  he  observed,  had  only  been  said  by  one 
bishop,  yet  it  had  been  laid  upon  all ;  it  was  the 


28        VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE  CIVIL   WAR 

same  also  with  the  '  bringing  in  of  idolatry,'  and 
in  spite  of  the  bishops  and  Popish  lords  sitting  in 
Parliament  it  was  confessed  that  many  good  laws 
were  made  there. 

Sir  Edward  Bering  supported  Falkland  :  he  had 
on  a  former  occasion  brought  up  the  'Root  and 
Branch  Bill '  for  the  abolition  of  episcopacy,  with  the 
consent  of  Pym  and  Hampden,  not  that  he  desired 
it  to  pass,  but  that  he  had  thought  thus  to  force  the 
peers  to  consent  to  the  exclusion  of  the  bishops  from 
the  Upper  House.  He  now  argued  that  the  advance- 
ment of  learning  would  suffer  if  the  bishoprics  were 
abolished  ;  as  he  expressed  it,  '  take  the  greate  bason 
and  euer  out  of  the  lottery  and  very  few  will  venture 
to  throw.' 

Sir  John  Culpepper  declared  that  '  the  declara- 
tion going  but  from  this  house  goes  but  on  on  legg ' 
—that  the  Lords  should  have  been  invited  to  join  in 
it,  and  that  all  remonstrances  should  be  addressed  to 
the  king,  as  he  only  could  redress  grievances.  To 
send  a  '  declaration  '  like  this  to  the  people  at  large 
was  '  daingerous  for  the  publique  peace.'  To  this 
Pym  replied  that  the  honour  of  the  king  lay  in  the 
safety  of  the  people,  and  that  the  plots  had  all  been 
traced  to  the  Court  and  the  Popish  party.  '  Wee  have 
suffered  soe  much  by  councellours  of  the  king's 
chusing  that  wee  desier  him  to  advise  with  us  about 
it.'  Hampden  and  Holies  spoke  in  the  same  strain, 
and  the  debate  rolled  on  till  midnight,  when  the 
Remonstrance  itself  was  carried  by  yeas  159,  noes 


SIR   RALPH'S   NOTES  29 

148,  which  Sir  Benjamin  Rudyard  compared  to  the 
verdict  of  a  starved  jury.  Hampden  then  proposed 
that  it  should  be  forthwith  printed  and  published, 
and  this  produced  a  scene  of  the  wildest  uproar,  which 
lasted' three  or  four  hours. 

In  the  midst  of  the  confusion  Hyde  rose,  vehe- 
mently opposing  Hampden's  motion  ;  if  it  were  carried 
he  desired  that  he  '  might  have  liberty  to  protest.' 
A  friend  of  his,  one  Jeffrey  Palmer,  then  started  to 
his  feet,  and  shouted,  '  I  do  protest,'  speaking  for 
himself,  he  said,  l  and  all  the  rest.'  The  noise 
became  uproarious  ;  some  members  waved  their  hats 
in  their  excitement,  others  '  took  their  swords  in 
their  scabbards  out  of  their  belts  and  held  them  by 
their  pommels  in  their  hands,  setting  the  lower  part 
on  the  ground,'  according  to  D'Ewes's  account. 
The  House  not  being  prepared  or  intended  for  night 
sittings,  the  chamber  was  so  dimly  lighted,  Warwick 
says,  '  that  it  was  like  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death.'  In  the  darkness  the  tumult  increased. 
There  are  two  red  lines  in  the  matting  of  the  floor 
of  the  House,  a  few  feet  before  the  front  benches, 
beyond  which  it  is  not  etiquette  that  any  member 
should  step  when  speaking.  It  is  curious  to  look  on 
these  and  to  remember  that  at  the  time  when  they 
were  originally  laid  down,  the  danger  of  an  encounter 
with  swords  by  excited  members  (as  may  be  seen 
in  this  instance)  was  only  too  real,  and  one  requir- 
ing to  be  vigilantly  guarded  against.  The  uproar 
continued  until  Hampden  spoke,  and  turned  the 


30         VERNEY   FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

attention  of  the  excited  members  into  another  channel 
by  asking  Palmer  '  how  he  could  know  other  men's 
minds  ? '  The  confusion  then  ceased,  and  further 
discussion  was  postponed  until  another  day.  War- 
wick, whose  sympathies  were  on  the  other  side,  and 
who  is  therefore  an  unprejudiced  witness  in  Hamp- 
den's  favour,  declares  that  '  we  had  catcht  at  each 
other's  locks,  and  sheathed  our  swords  in  each  other's 
bowels,  had  not  the  sagacity  and  great  calmness  of 
Mr.  Hambden  by  a  short  speech  prevented  it.' l 

As  the  members  went  out  in  the  early  morning, 
Falkland  asked  Cromwell  whether  '  there  had  not 
indeed  been  a  debate  ? '  'I  will  take  your  word  for  it 
another  time,'  said  the  other,  adding,  '  If  the  Remon- 
strance had  been  rejected,  I  would  have  sold  all  I 
had  the  next  morning,  and  never  have  seen  Eng- 
land any  more  ;  and  I  know  there  are  many  other 
honest  men  of  this  same  resolution.'  '  So  near,'  says 
Clarendon,  '  was  the  poor  kingdom  at  that  time  to  its 
deliverance.' 

When  the  House  met  again  on  the  24th,  Sir 
John  Hotham,  according  to  Sir  Ralph's  notes, 
'  charged  Mr.  Palmer  with  protesting  on  Mounday 
night,  in  the  name  of  himselfe  and  others,  and  that 
in  a  way  to  move  us  to  mutinie,  and  made  himselfe 
the  head  of  a  party.'  Hyde  declared  that  the  charge 
was  against  the  orders,  '  being  he  was  only  charged 
with  words,  and  not  with  any  ill  carrage,'  and  that 

1  Pym,  as  quoted  by  Clarendon,  also  said  '  that  it  might  probably 
have  engaged  the  House  in  blood.' 


SIR  RALPH'S   NOTES  31 

his  words  were  not  excepted  against  at  the  time. 
If  a  man  might  be  questioned  for  words,  spoken  a 
month  or  a  year  previously,  they  might  be  forged, 
'  then  how  can  a  man  answere  for  himselfe,  and  this 
takes  away  the  greate  priviledge  of  freedom  of 
speech.' 

'  Mr.  Hollis,  after  three  houers  debate,  sayd  hee 
would  charg  him  with  a  new  charg,  in  making  a 
pernicious  motion.'  It  was  in  vain  that  Palmer 
attempted  to  excuse  himself  for  his  conduct,  also 
declaring  that  he  did  not  remember  using  the  words 
'  in  the  name  of  himself  or  others.'  The  House  would 
not  let  him  off,  and  at  the  next  day's  sitting  he  was 
sentenced  to  go  to  the  Tower  by  a  majority  of  41. 
Clarendon  says  that  he  himself  had  been  selected 
for  punishment,  but  that  Palmer  was  taken  instead. 
His  imprisonment  only  lasted  twelve  days,  but  the 
excited  debates  on  the  subject  added  to  the  uneasiness 
of  the  Puritan  party  without. 

On  the  29th  a  crowd,  armed  with  swords  and 
staves,  assembled  outside  the  House,  with  a  view  of 
supporting  the  popular  party,  and  very  nearly  came 
to  a  collision  with  the  trained  bands  whom  the  king 
had  lately  caused  to  take  the  place  of  the  guard 
hitherto  stationed  there  by  command  of  Essex. 
Sir  Ralph  gives  an  account  of  the  examination  into 
the  occurrence  at  the  next  day's  sitting.  The  crowd 
was  apparently  largely  composed  of  apprentices. 

'  One  sayd,  hee  was  newly  come  from  West- 
minster armed,  and  that  1000  men  were  redy  there. 


32         VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING  THE   CIVIL    WAR 

Hee  sayd  the  parliment  men  sent  for  them.  The 
reason  of  his  going  was,  because  the  well  affected 
party  [i.e.  of  Pym  and  Hampden]  were  likely  to 
bee  over- voted  by  the  worser,  but,  being  they  agreed 
well  together,  hee  and  his  fellows  cam  all  away  in 
peace.'  '  There  had  been  an  uprore  in  the  parliment 
house,'  said  another  witness,  '  and  swords  drawne.' 
One  apprentice  declared  '  that  his  master  gave  him  a 
sourd,  and  bid  himgoe,  and  hee  beeleaves  the  masters 
of  the  other  apprentices  did  the  like.' 

Such  supporters  as  these  were  hardly  likely  to  do 
good  to  any  cause,  and  the  interference  of  the  great 
assemblages  which  now  often  surrounded  the  Houses 
of  Parliament  and  the  Palace  was  ominous  of 
mischief. 

The  king  meantime  had  returned  from  Scotland, 
and  on  signifying  his  intention  of  passing  through 
the  City,  had  been  received  there  with  a  grand  pro- 
cession and  a  splendid  banquet.  To  secure  the  sup- 
port of  the  rich  citizens  was  of  great  moment  to  him, 
and  he  made  the  most  of  this  auspicious  occasion  by 
setting  forth  his  good  intentions  with  regard  to  the 
redress  of  their  grievances  and  the  re- establishment 
of  their  trade,  promising  to  maintain  the  Protestant 
religion  '  if  need  be  to  the  hazard  of  my  life,  and  all 
that  is  dear  to  me.'  He  then  retired  to  Hampton  Court, 
where  the  queen  and  her  adherents  were  urging  him 
to  take  strong  measures  against  the  Puritan  leaders, 
whom  they  now  regarded  as  absolute  traitors. 

His    first  step  was   to  dismiss  the  guard  which 


SIR  RALPH'S  NOTES  33 

had  been  placed  round  the  two  Houses,  declaring 
that  it  was  not  wanted,  and  that  there  was  no  danger 
to  be  apprehended. 

Lady  Sussex,  writing  to  Ralph  on  November  29, 
says  : 

'  Your  glorious  show  we  have  in  printe  ;  my 
thinkes  the  kainge  should  love  his  pepell  of  inglande 
best ;  for  suer  ther  bonty  and  obedynce  is  most  to 
him  ;  i  pray  God  sende  your  parlyment  agree  will  ; 
i  am  sory  the  kainge  is  gon  to  hamton  court  for 
ther  will  bee  much  time  for  ther  pouerfull  par- 
swasyons  ;  my  thinkes  ther  was  littill  show  of  love 
to  your  hose  to  desier  your  garde  should  be  dis- 
mist  thes  trublesom  times  ;  i  becech  the  god  of 
heaven  to  bles  and  keepe  you  all  safe  from  any 
filinus  parties  ;  ther  will  bee  much  bisynes  in  your 
hose  suer,  now  the  kainge  is  com  ;  god  power  is 
above  all  ;  and  i  hope  he  will  derect  you  to  do  for 
the  best,  every  way.  Thow  i  am  ever  most  glade  at 
your  lettirs  i  forbide  them  but  when  you  have  lesuer, 
for  i  know  you  can  not  but  bee  tyerde  out  ever  day 
with  bisynes.' 

A  few  days  later  a  deputation  from  the  Commons 
carried  the  Remonstrance  to  the  king  at  Hampton 
Court,  and  he  was  warned  by  a  petition  accompanying 
it,  against  the '  ill  affected  party,'  and  asked  to  'join  the 
Parliament  in  taking  away  the  votes  from  the  bishops, 
and  in  removing  oppressions  and  unnecessary  cere- 
monies.' Charles's  answer  was  scornful  and  unsatis- 
factory, and  the  next  day  when  he  went  to  the  House 

VOL.  II.  D 


34         VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE  CIVIL   WAR 

of  Lords  he  made  a  speech,  as  quoted  by  Ralph,  to  the 
effect  that  he  had  been  '  absent  longer  then  hee  ex- 
pected .  .  .  but  with  good  successe  for  he  hath  left 
Scotland  a  happy  nation.  But  his  expectation  is 
deceived  here,  for  heere  was  many  destractions,  but 
hee  found  the  affections  of  his  people  reall  by  the 
entry  into  London  .  .  .'  and  then  '  that  his  greatest 
thought  was  in  the  good  affections  of  the  people.' 

The  Grand  Remonstrance  had  but  widened  the 
breach  between  him  and  the  Parliament,  and  mutual 
distrust  increased  daily.  On  December  15  the  Com- 
mons resolved  to  print  it,  and  thus  appeal  from  the 
king  to  the  nation. 

With  the  opening  of  the  year  1642  came  an 
attempt  on  the  part  of  the  king,  perhaps  the  most  ill- 
advised  of  any  that  he  made,  to  strike  a  blow  at  the 
leaders  of  the  popular  party.  Pym,  Hampden,  Holies, 
Hazlerigg,  and  Strode,  were  the  men  marked  out  for 
attack. 

Sir  Ralph's  notes  of  the  attempted  arrest  of  the 
five  members  begin  on  Monday,  January  3  : 

'  The  king  sent  Mr.  Francis,  a  serjeant  at  armes, 
to  Mr.  speaker  with  a  message,  and  hee  was  cald  in  to 
the  house,  and  deliverd  it  at  the  barr,  but  hee  was  not 
sufferd  to  bring  in  his  mace. 

'  The  message  was  thus,  "  Mr.  speaker,  the  king 
comanded  mee,  uppon  my  aleageance,  to  repaire  to  you 
where  you  are  now  sittinge,  and  to  demaund  five 
gentlemen,  members  of  this  house,  Mr.  Hollis,  Sir 
Arthur  Hazlerigg,  Mr.  Pirn,  Mr.  Hampden,  and  Mr. 


SIR  RALPH'S  NOTES  35 

William  Strood,  and,  when  they  are  deliverd,  hee 
comanded  me  in  his  name  to  arrest  them  for  high 
treason." 

'  Uppon  this  hee  was  comanded  to  withdraw,  and 
the  house  resolved  to  send  four  members  to  the  king, 
to  let  him  know  they  had  received  the  message,  and 
would  take  it  into  consideration,  but,  being  there  was 
noe  charge  deliverd  in  against  those  five  gentlemen, 
they  have  not  deliverd  them,  but  have  taken  care 
to  have  them  in  a  readinesse  to  answere  any  legall 
charge.  And  then  the  house  commanded  Mr.  speaker 
to  call  upp  these  five  gentlemen  by  name,  and  injoyned 
them  to  attend  de  die  in  diem,  till  the  house  took 
farther  order.  The  serjeant  of  the  house  was  sent  to 
tell  sergeant  Francis,  that  wee  had  sent  to  the  king 
about  these  five  gentlemen. 

'  Mr.  Pirn  and  Mr.  Hollis  had  there  papers  and 
studdies  sealed  upp,  by  warrant  under  the  king's 
hand,  and  the  house  sent  a  serjeant  at  armes  to 
arrest  those  that  did  it,  and  breake  of  the  scales,  and 
had  a  conference  with  the  lords,  and  they  likewise 
sent  to  breake  oppen  the  scales,  and  it  was  donn 
accordingly.  Wee  sent  to  them  [the  lords]  to  joine 
with  us,  because  they  had  protested  with  us  to  defend 
the  privileges  of  parliament.' 

We  have  four  independent  accounts  given  by  eye- 
witnesses of  the  next  day's  scene.  Of  these  the  most 
detailed  is  that  of  Rushworth,  a  young  clerk-assistant 
lately  taken  into  the  service  of  the  House,  who,  in 
the  midst  of  the  intense  excitement,  went  on  steadily 

D  2 


36         VEBNEY  FAMILY   DUKING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

writing  at  the  table,  as  Sir  Ralph,  in  much  less  com- 
fort, wrote  on  his  knee.  His  account  completes  our 
knowledge  of  the  details  of  that  memorable  day. 

'  Tuesday,  January  4,  1641. — The  five  gentle- 
men which  were  to  bee  accused  cam  into  the  house, 
and  there  was  information  that  they  should  bee 
taken  away  by  force.  Uppon  this,  the  house  sent  to 
the  lord  maior,  aldermen,  and  common  councell  to 
let  them  know  how  there  priviledges  were  like  to  bee 
broken,  and  the  citty  put  into  dainger,  and  advised 
them  to  looke  to  there  security. 

'  Likwise  some  members  were  sent  to  the  four 
inns  of  court,  to  let  them  know,  how  they  heard 
they  were  tampred  withall  to  assist  the  king  against 
them,  and  therfore  they  desierd  them  not  to  come  to 
Westminster. 

1  Then  the  house  adjorned  till  on  of  the  clock. 

'  As  soone  as  the  house  mett  againe,  'twas  moved, 
considering  there  was  an  intention  to  take  these  five 
men  away  by  force,  to  avoyd  all  tumult,  let  them  bee 
commanded  to  absent  themselves.  Uppon  this,  the 
house  gave  them  leave  to  absent  themselves,  but  entred 
noe  order  for  it,  and  then  the  five  gentlemen  went  out 
of  the  house. 

'  A  little  after,  the  kinge  came,  with  all  his  guard, 
and  all  his  pentioners,  and  two  or  three  hundred 
soldiers  and  gentlemen.  The  king  comanded  the 
soldiers  to  stay  in  the  hall,  and  sent  us  word  hee  was 
at  the  dore.  The  speaker  was  commanded  to  sit 
still,  with  the  mace  lying  before  him,  and  then  the 


FAC-SIMILE    OF     A     PAGE     OF     SIR     RALPH     VERNEy's     NOTES. 
(Written  when  the  King  tried  to  arrest  Hie  Jive  members.) 


SIR  RALPH'S   NOTES  37 

king  came  to  the  dore,  and  tooke  the  palsgrave  [his 
nephew]  in  with  him,  and  comand  all  that  cam  with 
him,  uppon  their  lives  not  to  come  in.  So  the  dores 
were  kept  oppen,  and  the  earle  of  Roxborough  stood 
within  the  dore,  leaninge  uppon  it.  [This  is  a  touch 
we  have  from  Sir  Ralph  alone.]  Then  the  kinge 
cam  uppwards,  towards  the  chaire,  with  his  hat  off, 
and  the  speaker  steped  out  to  meet  him.  Then  the 
kinge  steped  upp  to  his  place,  and  stood  uppon  the 
stepp,  but  sate  not  down  in  the  chaire.  And,  after 
hee  had  looked  a  greate  while,  hee  told  us,  hee  would 
not  breake  our  priviledges,  but  treason  had  noe  privi- 
ledge  ;  hee  cam  for  those  five  gentlemen,  for  hee 
expected  obedience  yeasterday,  and  not  an  answere. 
Then  hee  calld  Mr.  Pirn,  and  Mr.  Hollis,  by  name, 
but  noe  answere  was  made.  Then  hee  asked  the 
speaker  if  they  were  heere,  or  where  they  were. 
Uppon  that  the  speaker  fell  on  his  knees  and  desierd 
his  excuse,  for  hee  was  a  servant  to  the  house,  and 
had  neither  eyes,  nor  tongue,  to  see  or  say  anything 
but  what  they  comanded  him.  Then  the  king  told 
him,  hee  thought  his  owne  eyes  were  as  good  as  his, 
and  then  said,  his  birds  were  flowen,  but  hee  did 
expect  the  house  would  send  them  to  him,  and  if 
they  did  not  hee  would  seeke  them  himselfe,  for  there 
treason  was  foule,  and  such  an  on  as  they  would  all 
thanke  him  to  discover.  Then  hee  assured  us  they 
should  have  a  faire  triall,  and  soe  went  out,  putting 
off  his  hat  till  hee  came  to  the  dore. 

'  Uppon  this  the  house  did  instantly  resolve  to 


38         VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

adjorne  till  toomorrow  at  on  of  the  clock,  and  in  the 
intrim  they  might  consider  what  to  doe.' 

'  The  Commons  at  once  adjourned,'  says  Mr. 
Gardiner,  '  with  the  sense  that  they  had  but  just 
escaped  a  massacre.  The  orderly  D'Ewes  testified 
his  opinion  of  the  danger  by  stepping  to  his  lodg- 
ings and  immediately  making  his  will.'  That  this 
opinion  was  shared  by  the  country  is  shown  by  Lady 
Sussex's  letter  to  Sir  Ealph,  written  as  soon  as  the 
news  reached  Gorhambury. 

1  Thes  distractede  times  put  us  all  in  great  dis- 
order, but  i  hope  wee  shall  not  bee  kaillede  ;  yet  i 
think  you  are  in  greater  danger  then  wee  are  in  the 
contry ;  i  pray  god  bles  you  with  safety  ;  your 
parlyment  flyes  hye  ;  truly  itt  is  a  happy  thinge,  i 
thinke,  the  haue  so  much  corige  to  stand  to  mentane 
ther  right  ;  the  good  tone  of  london  it  semes  will  do 
so  to  ;  truly  the  are  to  bee  commendede  ;  surely  the 
kainges  party  will  bee  to  weke  ;  that  he  must  yelde 
to  the  parlyment ;  i  pray  god  derect  all  your  harts 
to  do  for  the  bes  for  the  good  of  us  all ;  if  wee  now 
be  ouer  cam  wee  are  undon  for  euer ;  i  hope  thos 
gentillmen  the  kainge  woulde  haue  from  your  hose 
shall  bee  safe  ;  the  stand  so  much  for  the  generall 
good  that  it  was  a  miserable  thinge  the  shoulde 
cuffer  ;  thes  lettir  will  com  safe,  or  else  i  shoulde  not 
haue  adfentiure  to  have  sade  so  much.  It  was  a 
blesede  thinge  thos  gentilmen  was  from  the  parly- 
ment when  the  kinge  cam,  he  had  ill  counsill  surly 
to  com  in  such  a  way.  I  pray  god  all  may  conclude 


SIR   RALPH'S   NOTES 


39 


will,  and  that  you  may  be   as  happy   as   you  are 
wishede  by  your  true  frinde,'  &c. 

On  February  1  Sir  Ralph  notes  the  Commons' 
Petition  for  the  command  of  the  Tower  and  of  the 
militia,  '  a  decided  move  in  the  headlong  march  to 
confusion,'  as  Mr.  Bruce  calls  it ;  on  the  10th  he 
records  the  names  of  those  persons  chosen  by  the 
Commons  as  fit  to  command  the  militia  of  their  re- 
spective counties,  and  to  be  sent  to  the  king.  The 
list  seems  of  sufficient  interest  to  be  given  here. 


Berks  .... 

Holland 

Middlesex     .     . 

Holland 

Bedford   .     .     . 

Bullingbroke 

Northampton     . 

Spencer 

Bucks  .... 

Paget 

Nottingham  .     . 

Clare 

Cambridg      .     . 

North 

Northumber- 

Cheshire .     .     . 

Strainge 

land,    New- 

Cornwall .     .    y 

Roberts 

castle,     and 

Cumberland  .  s  . 

Grey  of  Werk 

Berwick  .     .     . 

Northumber- 

Darby.    .     .     . 

Rutland 

land 

Devonshire   . 

Bedford 

Norfolke  .     .     . 

Warwick 

Dorset      .     .     . 

Salisbury 

Oxford      .     .     . 

Say  et  Scale 

Isle  of  Purbeck  . 

Sir  John  Banks 

Rutland   . 

Exeter 

Durham   .     .     . 

Sir  Henry 

Shropshire    . 

Littleton 

Vaine,  senior 

Somersetshire    . 

Mar.  Hartford 

Essex  .... 

Warwick 

and  Bristoll 

Mr.  Hollis 

Glocester  .     .     . 

Shandois 

Stafford     and 

Hampshire    and 

Litchfield    .     . 

Essex 

Isle  of  Wight  . 

Pembroke 

Suffolke    .     .     . 

Suffolke 

Hartford  .     .     . 

Salisbery 

Surrey 

Nottingham 

Hereford  .     .     . 

Dacres 

Sussex      .     .     . 

Northumber- 

Huntington .     . 

Mandivill 

land 

Kent   .... 

Leicester 

Warwick  . 

Brooke 

Lancashere   .     . 

Wharton 

Westmorland     < 

Cumberland 

Leicester  .     .     . 

Stamford 

Wilts  .... 

Pembroke 

Lincolne  ; 

Worcester     .     . 

Edward     How 

Kesteven,  Lin- 

ard, Escreek 

colne,         and 

Yorke,           and 

HoUand     .     . 

Lincolne 

Kingston  uppon 

Linsey    .     .     . 

Willoby  of 

Hull,    and  the 

Parum 

citty  Yorke 

Essex 

40 


VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 


London    .     . 

.   Six  aldermen  or      Carnarvan     . 

.   Pembroke 

3  of  them,   12      Denbeigh.     . 

.  Feildinge 

common  coun-      Flint    . 

.  Feildinge 

cell    or    6    of 

Glamorgan    . 

.  Phillip  Herbert 

them,  and  ser- 

Moungomery 

.  Essex 

jeant       major 

Marioneck     . 

.  Pembroke 

Skippon 

Pembroke 

.  Northumber- 

Monmouth   . 

.  Phillip  Herbert 

land 

Cardigan  .     . 

.  Kerberic 

Radner     .     . 

.  Littleton 

Carmarthen  . 

.  Kerbery 

41 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE    RISING    IN    MUNSTER,    1641-42. 

When  History's  Muse  the  memorial  was  keeping 
Of  all  that  the  dark  hand  of  Destiny  weaves, 

Beside  her  the  Genius  of  Erin  stood  weeping, 

For  hers  was  the  story  that  blotted  the  leaves. — MOORE. 

ON  November  1,  1641,  news  reached  London  of  the 
rebellion  in  Ulster,  which  had  broken  out  on  October 
23.  No  one  who  knows  what  was  the  state  of  Ireland 
in  the  preceding  year,  can  wonder  at  some  such  out- 
break occurring,  but  horror  and  indignation  naturally 
filled  all  minds  in  England  on  hearing  the  news, 
and  of  the  atrocities  committed  by  the  rebels.  The 
Parliament  at  once  voted  that  50,OOOZ.  should  be 
borrowed,  and  an  army  of  8,000  men  be  raised  to 
assist  their  countrymen  in  their  extremity.  In  the 
meantime  every  post  brought  news  of  fresh  horrors. 
For  eight  years  Strafford  had  ruled  Ireland  with 
a  stern  but  successful  sway.  Now  the  strong  man  was 
removed.  His  insignificant  successor,  Wandesford, 
had  died  in  1640.  Leicester,  who  was  next  appointed, 
never  went  to  Ireland  at  all,  and  neither  order  nor 
prosperity  could  be  maintained  by  the  inefficient 
Borlase  and  the  unprincipled  Parsons,  the  two 


42         VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE  CIVIL    WAR 

Lords  Justices,  in  whom  his  authority  was  vested. 
Sir  John  Borlase  was  a  worn-out  old  soldier,  and 
Sir  William  Parsons  a  land-jobber,  who  was  sus- 
pected of  encouraging  land  confiscation  for  his  own 
purposes. 

The  general  feeling  of  discontent  increased  from 
the  beginning  of  1641.  There  were  growing  rumours 
that  the  Catholic  population  was  to  be  rooted  out. 
Charles,  with  his  ill-advised  intrigues  with  the  Irish 
Catholic  lords,  rather  helped  than  hindered  the 
inevitable  outbreak.  The  movement  began  in  Ulster 
and  spread  to  the  south,  and  the  letters  from  the 
Verneys'  Irish  friends,  living  chiefly  in  Munster,  give 
a  terrible  picture  of  the  state  of  the  country. 

Sir  John  Leeke  writes  to  Sir  Edmund  at  the  end 
of  the  year  1641,  hi  the  extremity  of  distress  : 

'  The  frights  and  terrors  wee  heere  live  in,  cannot 
welbe  expressed  but  by  such  as  suffer  and  feele  the 
distraction,  whereof  many  are  com  for  England  that 
cann  relate  itt  as  eie  witnesses,  which  you  will  hear 
of  befor  this  letter  cann  come  to  yor  hands,  as  the 
noble  Incyquin  and  Mr.  Jepson.  I  before  sent  letters 
by  Mistress  Jepson,  whos  passadg  we  much  sorrow 
for,  the  next  day  being  extream  tempestuous.  With 
her  went  the  Lady  St.  Leger,  and  the  good  Lady  of 
Incyquin  and  many  children.  God  of  his  mercy 
bless  them  all  and  land  them  all  safe.  You  may 
perceive  by  thes  greate  personages  going  away,  our 
danger.  Lady  Kilnalmechy  hath  enough  I  believe 
of  Ireland,  she  is  a  most  noble  and  sweetly  disposed 


THE   RISING   IN   MUNSTER,   1641-42  43 

lady.  I  beseech  you  assone  as  she  comes  to  Court, 
see  her  and  give  thanks  for  her  kindness.'  He  asks 
Sir  Edmund  '  by  gaining  the  king  or  some  great 
man's  letters  to  procure  for  me  a  Company  of  foote,  I 
shall  prevayle  to  have  them  garrisoned  at  Youghal 
when  we  leave  the  field.'  Lady  Barrymore  cannot 
pay  the  money  sent  through  her,  '  and  we  perish 
meantime  for  want.'  •  '  Lady  ffenton  and  many  of 
my  good  friends  take  houses  at  Tanton  and  entend  to 
recyde  there  or  at  Minhead.'  '  I  protest  I  am  most 
miserable,  for  though  I  have  friends,  yet  noe  friend  to 
lend  me  tenn  pounds.  No  man  will  part  with  a  peny  of 
money,  and  by  all  that  is  good  in  heaven  and  earth,  I 
nor  my  wife  have  in  purse  40s. — We  have  20  good 
cowes,  wee  may  have  none  tomorrow,  such  is  the  case  of 
many  men.  I  have  barreled  beefe  and  porke  and  some 
littell  wheat  and  mault  for  a  moneth,  God  healp  us  and 
send  the  English  forces  to  us,  or  hearts  wowld  be  light 
and  our  corrages  stronge,  for  thes  English  wee  have  here 
have  gott  good  things  abowght  them,  and  themselves 
and  ther  goods  gott  into  stronge  townes.  The  country 
is  abandoned  and  in  my  Lords  country  is  nothing  left 
but  ther  cattell  and  a  servant  or  tow  in  ther  house.  I 
howld  yett  in  the  parke,  but  one  Munday  or  Tewsday 
I  must  to  Yoghall,  my  wife  is  in  that  extremitie  of 
feares  (as  cause  she  hath  poore  sowle)  that  I  must 
not  delay  longer  but  leav  the  Lodg,  nether  will 
I  mayntayne  the  Lodg  with  my  life  and  what  I 
have,  and  my  lord  allow  me  nothinge  to  itt.  .  .  . 
P.S. — Barrymore  taks  the  field  tomorrow  with  60 


44         VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

dragowns  and  70  lancers.     Browghall  goeth  to  the 

O  O  CD 

rendevous  as  stronge  if  not  stronger.'  He  asks  that 
a  case  of  pistols  may  be  sent  him,  '  for  I  will  not  stay 
in  Yoghall,  but  will  into  the  field  with  Barrymore, 
and  see  something  that  may  inable  my  knowledge. 
I  lack  a  sword  wth  a  garded  hilte,  I  want  other  armes, 
but  have  noe  way  to  have  them — bee  we  as  patient 
as  we  can.' 

Ralph,  in  alarm  for  the  safety  of  his  friend  Lady 
Barrymore,  writes  to  her  :  '  Your  stay  [in  Ireland] 
afflicts  mee  extreamly  least  you  should  bee  suddainly 
surprised  by  those  Barbarous  Rebells  who  (if  Fame 
belye  them  not)  delight  in  cruelty,  and  take  pleasure 
in  insolency,  above  and  beyond  ye  worst  of  infidells. 
truly  mad  dame  though  I  have  never  been  much  in 
love  with  Papists,  yet  I  beeleeved  them  to  bee  chris- 
tians,  but  if  they  offer  violence  to  you,  or  yours,  I 
shall  change  my  opinion.  .  .  .  now  you  see  it  utterly 
impossible  to  infuse  any  humanity  into  those  pagan 
Irish,  bee  pleased  to  come  over  and  make  us  happy 
heere.' 

Sir  John  writes  again  in  January  1642  from 
Youghal  :  '  I  have  not  long  since  writ  to  you  by 
Mr.  Booth  and  again  by  Mistress  Jepson,  they  all 
tend  to  one  tune — a  relation  of  our  distractions  and 
miseries.'  '  Clomell,  the  key  of  Munster  is  taken  on 
Saturday  last  ;  Dungarvan  and  the  castle  is  taken 
both  by  the  treachery  of  the  townsmen  ;  Kilkenny  ten 
days  since  was  taken  by  the  Lord  Mont  Garratt  and  his 
four  sons  and  sons-in-law.  My  Lady  of  Ormund  and 


THE   RISING   IN  MUNSTER,   1641-42  45 

her  children  are  in  the  castle  and  there  imprisoned, 
Mountgarratt  is  in  the  castle  with  a  face  to  secure 
the  Lady,  but  a  false  heart.  I  am  now  come  to 
Yoghall  with  my  company,  where  we  are  as  secure 
as  in  any  Irish  town  ;  God  knows  there  is  no 
security  but  where  a  good  English  garrison  doth 
secure.  The  virtuous  Lady  Kilnalmechy  hath  com- 
manded this  letter,  which  she  will  deliver  to  you 
with  her  own  hands  ;  she  can  give  our  miseries  to 
the  life.  My  Lord  of  Broghall  went  before  the  town 
of  Dungarvan,  the  next  day  it  was  surprised,  with 
60  horse  and  50  foot,  and  took  the  praye  of  the 
town,  which  consisted  of  120  cows  and  horse,  and 
near  400  sheep,  and  carried  them  to  Lismore,  which 
was  8  miles.  The  present  Monday,  the  10th,  my 
Lord  Dungarvan  intended  to  have  met  his  brother  at 
Dungarvan  with  80  brave  armed  horse  and  100  foot, 
but  when  25  of  his  horse  were  ferried  over,  an 
express  came  to  my  Lord  Dungarvan  from  my  Lord 
President  to  command  him  into  the  field  to  join  with 
him  and  Barrymore,  which  army  will  be  near  400 
brave  horse,  besides  1,200  foot,  and  some  pieces  of 
ordinances  ;  Barrymore  hath  60  Dragoons  which 
hath  done  good  service  and  execution  ;  this  army 
carryeth  a  brave  resolution  though  but  small  in 
number,  yet  courageous  and  discreetly  commanded  ; 
they  fight  for  honour  and  their  lands,  all  is  at  stake  ; 
there  is  not  a  country  we  can  hear  of  but  the  county 
of  Corke  but  are  in  action  ;  Oh !  we  sigh  and  grieve 
for  the  English  forces,  we  believe  they  will  come,  but 


46        VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

the  kingdom  will  be  so  near  losing,  or  at  least 
destroying,  that  the  regaining  will  cost  more  blood 
and  charge  than  the  first  conquest  did  or  all  the  wars 
in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time.  We  hear  this  night  that 
Dungarvan  is  fortified  with  2  or  3,000  men,  and  as 
is  noised,  under  command  of  my  Lord  of  Ormund's 
only  brother  ;  the  rebels  are  so  strong  between 
Dublin  and  us  that  the  Earl  of  Ormund  cannot  come 
from  Dublin  where  he  is,  either  to  succour  his  wife, 
his  country,  or  chastise  his  brain-sick  brother  ;  his 
country  is  more  infested  than  any  of  our  parts. 
Three  Lords  of  the  Butlers  are  in  action.  God  of  his 
mercy  send  us  succors  and  fight  for  us  and  with  us 
to  the  distruction  of  thes  ungratious  rebells  that  full- 
ness of  bread  and  to  to  gratious  favors  of  our  Royall 
Kinge  have  given  them  (since  Queene  Eliz  roodd  was 
taken  from  them)  and  have  bine  blessed  with  the 
sweet  of  peace  and  wbout  disturbance  -inioyd  ther 
conciences  Bat  beasts  that  have  bine  used  to  the 
yooke,  growe  more  crooked  and  perverse  when  they 
are  putt  to  fatt  pasture.  ...  I  do  believe  that 
whosoever  shall  live  to  this  day  twelvemonth  shall 
see  such  a  dearth  and  famine  as  hath  seldom  or 
hardly  been  known  in  Ireland  ;  what  cattle  the 
rebels  cannot  come  at,  we  are  inforced  to  barrell  up, 
for  if  the  rebels  take  our  cattle  (which  they  have 
done  in  infinite  number,  both  of  fair  sheep  and 
goodly  cattle  as  most  in  England),  what  they 
eate  they  kill  with  their  skeens  and  let  them  lie  and 
stink.  The  first  work  they  did  was  to  rob  all  the 


THE   RISING   IN   MUNSTER,   1641-42  47 

English  of  their  cattle,  to  starve  them  which  cannot 
subsist  of  roots  and  oats  as  they  do.  To  conclude, 
our  state  is  lamentable,  if  we  but  look  to  what  was, 
to  what  now  is,  and  to  what  of  certain  must  be. 
For  my  particular  I  know  not  what  to  do  in  the 
turmoils  ;  cattle  I  have  in  the  park,  but  how  long  I 
am  not  certain,  yet  we  are  in  a  safe  place  as  long  as 
Yoghall  continues  good,  which  God  grant.  Monies 
are  not  to  be  had  for  any  thing  unless  arms,  swords, 
and  muskets,  which  are  gold  and  silver,  and  friends 
too  ;  friends  for  money  are  not ;  plate,  household  stuff 
are  not  merchantable  .  .  .  There  are  not  any  women 
of  quality  but  are  come  to  England,  nor  any  that  have 
wealth.  .  .  .  The  old  Earl  of  Cork  is  full  of  distrac- 
tions, not  like  the  man  he  was  ;  his  sons  are  most 
noble,  and  you  should  hear  brave  things  of  their 
undertakings  and  performances.  ...  I  should  be  loath 
to  leave  Ireland  until  the  fire  burns  my  heels.  I 
beseech  you  send  me  a  case  of  pistols  and  a  close 
hilt  sword.  I  have  a  desire  (tho'  I  am  old)  not  to 
be  an  idler  ;  a  word  from  a  friend  or  yourself  might 
gain  me  a  company  to  be  garrisoned  in  Yoghall.  I 
believe  it  not  very  difficult,  considering  my  Lord  of 
Leicester  is  my  noble  friend,  and  this  virtuous  Lady 
Kilnelmechy  my  anchor  to  trust  to,  for  so  hath  she 
offered  and  promised.  .  .  .  P.S.  this  Wednesday 
morning  the  12  wee  have  the  ill  newes  the  Rebells 
are  within  4  myles  of  Lismore.  my  lord  Dungarvan 
sent  out  xxiiii  horse  under  the  command  of  his 
cornett  Honest  Jack  Travers  who  was  by  an  ambush 


48         VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

betrayd  and  himselfe  slaine  and  2  footmen.     500  were 
of  the  Rebells  well  appoynted.' 

It  is  not  surprising  that  the  English  soldiers,  on 
their  arrival  in  Ireland,  were  filled  with  rage  at  the 
sights  they  saw  and  the  relations  they  heard,  and 
were  not  inclined  to  be  very  merciful  to  the  doers  of 
such  outrages.  Compared,  however,  with  the  manner 
in  which  war  was  carried  on  at  that  time  in  the  Low 
Countries  and  in  Germany,  and  with  Cromwell's  deeds 
in  Ireland  a  few  years  later,  the  conduct  of  the  English 
officers  and  soldiers  can  hardly  be  complained  of. 

In  March  Sir  John  writes  :  '  Sir  Charles  Vavesor 
a  noble  gentillman  who  doth  assure  me  he  left  you 
well  and  took  his  leave  of  you  the  day  before  he  sett 
one  his  jorney  for  Irelande  hath  brought  over 
1,000  as  brave  carcases  of  men,  as  ever  I  beheld 
wth  my  eies  and  would  fayne  be  in  the  feild  and 
fightinge.  they  had  well  hooped  that  they  should 
have  fallen  to  pillaging  the  Irish  of  the  towne  of 
Yoghall  and  meetinge  wth  some  Irish  wemen  that 
hadd  man  tells  and  crucefixes  abowght  ther  neckes, 
wch  the  soldiers  teore  from  them,  but  by  ther  com- 
mander were  quieted,  the  preests  are  all  stole  out  of 
the  towne  and  noe  masse  sayd  yesterday,  beinge 
Sunday  .  .  .  wee  expect  this  day  or  tomorrow  to 
see  my  Lord  of  Incyquine,  if  the  wind  hould  fay  re 
as  itt  is.  The  very  noyse  of  the  landinge  the  troops 
have  blowne  away  rebells,  that  lay  neere  Yoghall, 
but  abowght  Lismore,  where  Browhall  hath  killed  and 
hanged  many,  some  loss  he  hath  receved  as  a  brave 


THE   RISING   IN   MUNSTER,   1641-42  49 

gentillmann  his  Cornell.  The  Rebells  did  use  much 
cruelty  before  ther  departure  by  dragginge  a  gentill- 
man  out  of  his  howse,  and  bindinge  his  hands,  layinge 
him  on  a  banke,  and  shott  him  to  death  ;  4  poore 
English  that  were  ther,  they  hanged,  drawinge  them 
up  to  a  hovell  post,  and  held  them  until  they  were 
dead,  and  this  was  done  within  Lismore  precincts  ; 
the  rebells  were  71  colours  in  one  place  and  8  or  9 
in  another,  but  they  vanished  in  a  moment  to  the 
mountaynes.  Ther  Gennerall  the  Lord  Mount- 
Garratt  is  fallen  from  the  Lord  Roch  and  gone  into 

his  one   contry   with  6,000  men They 

marched  to  Mallo,  wher  were  tow  castels,  Mr. 
Jepson's  house  is  very  stronge  and  well  appoynted, 
the  other  not  bigger  than  an  ordinnary  steeple,  but 
25  good  men  at  Least,  and  a  stowt  commander  ;  the 
Rebells  summoned  the  castell  but  they  were  answered 
wth  muskett  Bulletts,  in  short  they  killed  neere  200 
Rebells  and  hurt  many,  att  last  powder  faylinge,  they 
accepted  quarter  and  went  to  Mr.  Jepsons  castell ; 
the  English  lost  very  few.  The  next  day  the  Rebells 
parted  ther  army.  Killnalmechy  keeps  his  towne  of 
Bandon  Bridge  .  .  .  this  last  week  he  fell  most 
bravely  on  the  enimy  ;  400  of  the  Rebells  came 
neer  Bandon  with  some  prvision  and  necessaries 
of  usqubach,  wine,  bread,  some  munition  and  ther 
apparrell,  3  cartloads.  Killnalmechy  drew  out  200 
musketteeres  and  himselfe  and  70  horse,  putt  them 
to  rout,  and  running  killed  104,  tooke  prisoners  and 
hanged  them,  many  prime  gentillmen  were  slayne.  .  .  . 

VOL.    II.  E 


50         VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

Our  lands  are  all  wasted,  and  we  shall  have  no 
p-fitt  this  many  yeares.'  He  entreats  Sir  Edmund 
to  get  him  a  company  or  to  lend  him  some  money. 
1 1  have  gott  four  soldiers  to  keepe  the  house.  .  .  . 
Here  no  man  hath  anythinge,  nor  shall  not  this 
many  yeares  ;  the  stocke  of  English  sheep  and  cattel 
are  almost  destroyed,  the  Rebells  stole  English 
sheepe  from  a  frende  of  mine,  but  some  dayes  after 
the  English  troops  tooke  some  of  the  sheepe  and 
other  cows  from  the  Rebells  ;  the  troopers  sell  the 
sheepe  for  l%d.  8d.,  and  6d.  when  ther  skinne  were 
well  worth  16c?,  and  so  sould  thus  all  turnes  as 
mischeefe  to  the  poore  English ;  littell  or  noe  restitu- 
tion unless  the  proprietor  be  in  pursuite  and  recover 
.  .  .  God  healp  us.  .  .  .  Tom  Badnedg  [his  son-in- 
law]  is  ...  now  Capt.  of  the  gard  of  our  Yoghall, 
it  is  creditt  but  not  a  pownde  proffittable.  his  dili- 
gence and  care  is  a  great  security  to  the  towne. 
Wee  have  many  Irish  and  few  trew  harted  as  wee 
feare  but  or  English  are  a  bridell  in  ther  nose  :  yett 
the  townsmen  pfesse  and  ptest  much  loyalty  .  .  . 
While  I  am  writing  a  messenger  is  come  in  from 
the  army  that  assures  us  my  Lord  President  hath 
regayned  Dungarvan  wth  the  slaughter  of  many, 
the  castell  howlds  out,  but  cannot  Longe  ;  in  itt 
are  men  of  qualitie,  as  Sr  Nycholas  Welsh  and 
some  of  the  Bullers  .  .  .  ther  are  5  or  600  cooped 
in  betwixt  the  sea  and  the  blackwater  wch  must  falle. 
My  Lord  Barrymore  is  in  the  field  wth  the  Presi- 
dent and  hath  most  bravly  and  loyally  behaved 


THE   RISING   IN   MUNSTER,   1641-42  51 

himselfe,  to  the  great  terror  of  his  countrymen  ; 
itt  wilbe  a  most  bloody  warre,  for  none  can  be 
spared  ;  the  Irish  women l  are  most  cruel!  in  exe- 
cution ;  I  pray  God  bless  you  in  England  and 
knitt  your  harts  in  unitie.  trust  no  Papist  for 
here  they  betray  ther  dearest  frendes.  ...  I  Intreat 
yor  cowncell  and  comfort  to  yor  poore  brother  John 
Leeke.' 

He  writes  again  a  few  days  later  : 

*  My  Lord  President  with  his  one  and  the  regiment 
of  Sir  Charles  Vavisor  have  rescued  Dungarvan  with 
the  castel  from  the  rebells,  killed  300  att  least,  and 
gave  quarter  to  80  that  were  in  the  castel,  the  reason 
that  favour  being  the  suddayne  risinge  of  the  Lord  of 
Muscary,  who  contrary  to  all  menns  expectation  and 
his  own  vowes  and  protestations  is  now  with  7,000 
men  within  5  myles  of  Corke,  the  President  is  not 
withstanding  got  into  Corke,  but  hath  not  power 
sufficient  to  keep  the  field,  but  doth  strengthen  all 
our  townes  until  new  supplies  come  and  then  he  will 
not  be  pent  up.  ...  I  am  most  miserable,  money  I 
have  none,  rent  none  to  be  paid,  the  rebells  within  a 
mile  of  the  towne,  the  river  only  between,  our  towne 
supposed  not  to  be  sownd  at  heart,  I  mayntayned  a 
gard  of  4  men  and  a  boy  and  a  mayd  to  dress  theire 

1  The  mother  of  Adamnan,  living  in  Ireland,  Abbot  of  lona  in 
704,  was  so  shocked  at  seeing  a  battle  where  women  were  engaged  on 
both  sides,  and  especially  by  the  sight  of  one  woman  running  a 
reaping-hook  through  the  breast  of  her  enemy,  that  she  persuaded 
her  son  to  obtain  a  decree  from  an  assembly  of  chiefs  and  abbots 
against  such  practices,  for  '  men  and  women  went  equally  to  battle  at 
that  time,'  says  the  Celtic  book  of  Irean. 

E  2 


52         VEENEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

meate  until  3  weekes  since  from  9  her,  which  was  hard 
for  me  to  keep  tow  houses,  .  .  .  my  long  service  to 
his  father  and  himself  are  forgotten.  .  .  «  If  I  may 
not  get  a  company  I  cannot  here  live,  no  man  can  see  to 
the  end  of  this  rebellion,  nether  will  (if  we  had  peace) 
7  yeares  reduce  us  into  order  and  that  time  is  more 
than  I  can  expect  to  live.  I  wish  I  had  some  pretty 
farm  that  might  keepe  my  20  cowes  in  any  cuntry 
about  you.' 

On  March  8,  1642,  Magdalen  Faulkner  writes  from 
'  Castel  Lyones,'  to  Sir  Ralph  :  '  I  receved  your  leter 
and  in  that  the  sadest  nues  that  ever  I  louck  to 
hear  [Lady  Verney's  death],  that  I  have  just  cauese 
to  say  that  mesfourtune  stel  folloes  me  in  the  lose  of 
soe  many  of  my  derest  frindes.  Wee  are  here  in  a 
most  pettyful  and  lamemuntabel  case  as  ever  pore 
pepul  ware  in.  God  help  ous,  we  have  and  here  of 
nothing  but  fier  and  the  sword  and  pettyful  sites  of 
pouer  pepel  strept  nacked  as  ever  they  ware  borne 
and  we  can  expect  nothing  but  famen  for  thay 
destroye  al — they  which  at  mickelmust  last  wore 
worth  thre  or  fore  thousen  poundes  no  we  beges  at 
ouer  dore.  My  Lord  behaves  himselfe  gallantly  in 
this  besnes  for  we  have  fefty  farnely  in  ouer  houses 
for  safty,  and  fouer  times  as  many  in  ouer  other 
castel,  and  none  of  my  lords  one  cuntre  is  yet  in 
rebelone,  but  we  fere  them  ever  daye  and  louck  to  be 
beseged  and  our  towne  fiered,  for  the  enemy  tackes 
our  cows  and  catel  to  ouer  very  dore  God  helph  ous 
we  knoe  not  what  to  do.'  She  begs  pardoD  for  the 


THE  RISING  IN  MUNSTER,   1641-42  53 

faults   in   the   letter,    '  I   am   so   friten  with    suden 
alarmes  that  I  knoe  not  [what]  to  do.' 

Lady  Barrymore  also  writes  : 

'  I  live  every  hour  at  the  mercy  of  our  increasing 
enemies  and  dare  not  as  yet  stir  because  the  safety  of 
so  many  depends  upon  my  stay  here,  and  we  have 
daily  the  objects  of  the  Papist's  cruelty,  which  doth 
some  what  terrify  mee.'  She  will  not  give  particulars 
of  their  suffering,  '  for  I  desier  you  may  onley  heare 
of  it  by  the  bye  and  never  have  a  full  relation  of  the 
many  misereyes  this  poore  kingdome  is  redust  to,  and 
much  like  to  be  worse,  without  you  grave  parlament 
men  doe  speedily  send  us  more  aide,  which  I  begge 
you  to  doe  that  you  may  presarve  in  lerland  your 
unconstant  enemy  but  faithfull  freind  to  sarve  you. 

'  H.  BAREYMORE.' 

Their  fears  proved  but  too  well  founded,  for  in 
her  next  letter  Magdalen  Faulkner  says  : 

'  We  are  fled  from  our  one  house,  for  the  enemy 
came  with  soe  greate  a  number  aganst  ous,  that  my 
Lord  durst  not  let  my  lady  and  the  cheldren  stay.  I 
thinke  the  next  remove  will  be  into  England,  for  the 
enemy  persues  ous  ever  wher  and  voues  oure  deth, 
becase  we  wil  not  goe  to  mase  which  god  almite  kepe 
ous  from.' 

Sir  Ralph  replies  in  June  to  Lady  Barrymore  : 

'  You  are  so  hardened  by  this  winter's  sufferings, 
that  neither  fire  nor  sword  can  fright  you  into  Eng- 
land ;  'tis  truth  there's  little  left  that  may  invite  you 


54         VERNEY   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

hither,  the  unhappy  distractions  of  this  kingdom 
have  not  only  reduced  ourselves  into  a  sad  condition, 
but  made  Ireland  far  more  miserable.  Till  these  are 
settled  here,  I  shall  not  expect  to  see  the  rebels  quiet 
there,  especially  considering  these  distempers  have 
wrought  so  many  doubtings  in  the  minds  of  men, 
that  I  fear  'twill  be  very  hard  to  raise  a  considerable 
sum  of  money,  unless  there  do  appear  greater  hopes 
of  peace  than  yet  are  evident.' 

The  case  of  the  poor  English  in  Ireland  was 
indeed  deplorable  unless  their  coimtrymen  at  home 
were  agreed  in  supporting  them.  The  Parliament 
had  sent  reinforcement  of  troops  to  their  aid  early 
in  the  year,  as  many  as  their  funds  could  provide, 
but  now,  with  Civil  War  imminent  in  England,  little 
assistance  could  be  looked  for.  The  king's  proposal 
of  going  himself  to  Ireland  to  quell  the  rebellion  was 
absolutely  opposed  by  the  Puritan  party,  who  feared 
his  gaining  strength  there  for  further  oppression  at 
home.  No  better  plan  for  improving  the  state  of 
poor  Ireland  was  thought  of  than  fresh  confiscations 
and  plantations. 

Magdalen  Faulkner  writes  in  June  '42  to  Sir 
Ralph :  '  Here  is  noe  newes  but  what  you  knoe 
alredy — but  onley  this  last  weeke  Caredealahand 
castel  is  taken  and  the  Lord  Roches  castel  and  cuntre 
burnt  within  to  miles  of  ous.  it  was  taken  by  my 
lord  and  the  to  regementes  we  have  here,  the  lord 
presedent  is  past  al  hopes  of  life  and  he  is  genaral  of 
munster  but  he  wose  not  in  the  feld  this  quater  of  a 


THE   RISING   IN   MUNSTER,   1641-42  55 

yere.     my  lord  is  very  good  and  doth  take  great  panes 
and  care  for  the  helph  of  the  englesh.' 

A  few  months  later  Lord  Barrymore  was  killed, 
to  the  great  loss  of  the  loyalists  of  the  neighbourhood. 
According  to  one  account,  '  All  the  English  that  were 
robbed  and  stripped  in  Roche's  and  Condon's  countries, 
many  of  whom  his  lady  clothed,  were  carried  by  him 
safe  to  Youghall  with  his  troop  of  horse,  which 
together  with  two  companies  of  foot,  he  maintained 
at  his  own  charge.  He  headed  them  at  the  battle  of 
Liscarrol  and  died  of  his  wounds  there  on  Michael- 
mas day,  aged  only  thirty-eight.  The  Irish  threatened 
to  destroy  his  house,  but  he  sent  them  word  that 
he  would  defend  it  while  one  stone  remained  upon 
another.'  *  He  left  a  distressed  lady,'  says  another 
writer,  '  and  four  children,  with  an  encumbered  and 
disjointed  estate,  and  all  his  country  wasted.'  His 
eldest  son  was  only  nineteen,  and  Magdalen  writes  to 
beg  Ralph  to  help  him  ;  she  was  now  married  to  Mr. 
Bruce,  but  apparently  stayed  on  with  Lady  Barry- 
more.  She  writes  in  November  1642  : 

* .  .  .  I  ret  to  you  sence  the  deth  of  my  Lord  to 
doue  the  best  you  can  for  the  young  lord,  for  he  hath 
nothing  left  him  ;  I  hope  you  wil  al  conseder  of  it, 
for  his  father  hath  dun  very  good  sarves  as  any  man 
hath  dun  in  this  kingdum,  but  that  mesenger  wose 
unfortunately  tacken  by  the  pyrets  ;  the  rebels  com 
every  daye  to  our  towne  [village]  ;  they  towke  a 
praye  from  my  lady  fore  nites  ago,  24  fat  oxen,  three 
score  and  ten  melch  cowes,  besides  our  working  oxen, 


56         VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

thaye  vowe  to  fier  our  towne  and  house  and  we  have 
letel  resestance  for  them.  God  help  ous  out  of  this 
mesry  for  we  are  in  gret  disstres,  for  in  the  lose  of 
my  lord  we  lost  the  prop  and  stay  of  our  contrey.' 
A  month  later  :  '  I  fere  we  shale  be  forst  to  leve  this 
kingdom  very  suddenly  for  want  of  meet,  men  and 
rnenishone,  for  al  that  is  out  of  the  enemyes  hand  will 
not  sarve  the  English  three  month  God  helph  ous  ;  the 
paralement  hath  made  a  fresh  presedent  and  he  is  our 
general  of  this  provence  ;  he  hath  soe  many  of  his 
frindes  and  kindred  in  rebellyone  and  soe  many  of  his 
frindes  and  kindred  whiche  gives  proteckone  and  are 
protected  by  him  that  thay  and  dooe  [undo]  al  ous 
pore  pepel ;  if  you  give  not  a  remove  to  him  I  fere 
you  and  ous  wil  have  cose  to  repint  of  it ;  sence  my 
lord  died  thaye  fere  nobody  for  when  he  lived  he  kept 
al  his  one  contrey  in  order,  thaye  durst  not  aman 
stur  and  thaye  be  as  bad  as  the  worst  :  thay  are 
protected  by  the  president  within  a  mile  of  ouer 
castel  ;  god  almite  loucke  one  ous  for  these  are 
miserable  times  ;  .  .  .  my  lady  presentes  hir  sarves 
to  you  and  soe  doth  mes  Freck ;  she  is  strept  out  of 
al  that  she  hath.' 

After  this  date  there  is  little  more  correspondence 
between  the  Verneys  and  their  unfortunate  Irish 
friends.  Sir  John  Leeke,  ruined  and  hopeless,  took 
refuge  in  England,  and  was  followed  by  Lady  Barry - 
more  and  her  family. 

The  want  of  cohesion  among  the  Irish  made  the 
rebellion  hopeless  from  the  outset.  The  peasants 


THE   RISING   IN   MUNSTER,   1641-42  57 

were  often  joined  by  men  of  more  education  and 
position  as  may  be  seen  in  the  letters,  and  by  uniting 
with  any  one  of  the  three  parties,  the  Scotch,  the 
parliament,  or  the  king,  into  which  the  English 
warfare  was  cut  up,  the  Irish  might  probably  have 
brought  about  a  success  and  have  made  pretty  much 
their  own  terms  ;  but  the  great  mass  of  the  people 
were  ignorant  savages,  and  though  their  complaints 
of  the  English  rule  were  well-founded,  the  Irish 
were  incapable  of  united  action,  or  of  constructing  a 
government,  and  the  hatred  aroused  against  them  in 
England  had  terrible  and  far-reaching  consequences. 
Mr.  Gardiner  thus  sums  up  the  memories  left  by  this 
bitter  struggle  : 

'  If,  in  the  darkness,  Englishman  could  not  discern 
the  face  of  Englishman,  how  could  it  be  hoped  that 
he  would  discern  the  face  of  the  Irish  Celt  ?  His 
rebellion  and  cruelty  had  left  no  room,  if  there  had 
been  room  before,  for  any  remembrance  of  the  wrongs 
he  had  suffered.' 1 

1  Gardiner's  Fatt  of  the  Monarchy  of  Charles  I.,  vol.  ii.  p.  340. 


58        VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE    CIVIL    WAR 


CHAPTER  IV. 

GARY  VERNEY'S  MARRIAGE. 

'  Tell  me  not,  sweet,  I  am  unkind, 

That  from  the  nunnery 
Of  thy  chaste  breast  and  quiet  mind 
To  arms  and  war  I  fly. 

'  True,  a  new  mistress  now  I  chase, 

The  first  foe  in  the  field, 
And  with  a  stronger  faith  embrace 
A  sword,  a  horse,  a  shield. 

'  Yet  this  inconstancy  is  such 

As  you  too  shall  adore  ; 
I  could  not  love  you,  dear,  so  much 
Loved  I  not  honour  more. ' 

LOVELACE. 

IN  the  midst  of  the  anxieties  and  troubles  of  the 
beginning  of  1642,  the  excitement  of  the  attempt  on 
the  five  members  by  the  king,  the  painful  struggles 
of  the  best  men  of  both  parties  to  find  out  the  right 
course,  amidst  the  jarring  conflict  of  opinion  on  all 
points,  political  and  religious,  young  men  and  maids 
were  still  marrying  and  giving  in  marriage. 

Sir  Edmund  had  promised  his  fourth  daughter, 
Gary,1  his  '  shee  darling  '  as  Dr.  Denton  calls   her, 

1  Gary  does  not  seem  to  have  been  an  abbreviation  of  Caroline, 
as  in  Sir  Edmund  Verney's  will,  where  Sue  and  Pen  and  Betty  are 
given  their  Christian  names  in  full,  Gary's  name  is  unaltered,  and 
she  transmitted  it  to  a  Denton  godchild  ;  she  was  probably  called 
after  Sir  Edmund's  friend,  Mrs.  Cary,  afterwards  Mrs.  Herbert. 


GARY    VERNEY'S   MARRIAGE  59 

aged  fifteen,  to  a  young  captain  of  dragoons  in 
the  king's  service,  the  eldest  son  of  Sir  Thomas 
Gardiner,  Recorder  of  London,  and  who  afterwards 
succeeded  St.  John  as  Solicitor- General.  He  had  an 
estate  at  Cuddesden,  near  Oxford,  about  twenty 
miles  from  Claydon.  The  two  had  made  acquaintance 
at  the  end  of  1641,  for  when  young  Edmund  was 
staying  with  his  sisters  at  Claydon  at  that  time,  he 
writes  to  Ralph  concerning  Gary  who  was  ill :  '  My 
sister  Gary  desiers  you  will  excuse  her  not  writing 
to  you  ;  she  hath  been  extreame  ill  this  day  and  much 
by  fitts.  Believe  me,  brother,  shee  is  of  ass  sweet 
a  disposition  ass  any  creature  I  know  living,  and  her 
affection  to  you  is  such  that  I  thinke  it  expresseth 
what  affection  is  or  can  be.  In  the  extremitie  of  her 
fitte  she  will  wish  to  me  privately  besides  your  lady 
for  three  men,  my  father  and  you  are  two,  I  thinke 
you  may  soone  guesse  the  third,  yet  truely  she  nam'd 
him  not.  This  is  the  first  day  but  I  thinke  she  hath 
had  twenty  fitts  in  it.  I  pray  god  they  may  soone 
cease  with  her.  I  am  now  in  haste  to  goe  to  her 
therefore,  .  .  .'  etc. 

In  the  Long  Parliament,  Sir  Thomas  Gardiner, 
the  king's  candidate  for  the  Speakership,  a  hot- 
headed, violent  man,  was  complained  of  to  the  House 
with  the  Lord  Mayor,  in  December  1641,  for '  putting 
obstructions  in  the  way  of  persons  signing  a  petition  ' 
for  the  removal  of  bishops  and  Catholic  lords  from 
Parliament  and  in  support  of  the  policy  of  Pym.  Sir 
Ralph  gives  the  answer  of  witnesses  examined 


60         VERNE Y  FAMILY    DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

before  Committee  as  to  what  Sir  Thomas  had  said  : 
that  '  the  petition  tended  to  sedition  and  set  men 
togeather  by  the  eares '  ;  and  being  told  that  it  was 
intended  for  peace,  he  said  :  '  Is  this  your  way  of 
peace  ?  Noe,  it  is  for  blood  and  cutting  of  throates, 
and  if  it  cam  to  cutting  of  throates,  thanke  your- 
selves, and  your  blood  bee  on  your  owne  heades  '  ; 
'  I  hate  a  papist,  and  I  hate  the  petition -, worse.'  On 
March  9  he  was  committed  to  the  Tower  by  the 
House  of  Lords  for  his  conduct  as  one  of  the  counsel 
of  Sir  Edward  Herbert,  the  Attorney- General,  in  his 
impeachment  ;  and  on  the  22nd  Gardiner  was  im- 
peached himself  for  opposing  the  proceedings  of  Par- 
liament on  the  militia  in  the  Common  Council,  and 
getting  petitions  signed  against  the  Ordinance.  '  The 
recorder,  a  chiefe  actor  in  a  seditious  petition.  .  .  . 
The  contriving  was  malignant  in  him.  Hee  endea- 
vored to  hinder  the  caling  this  parliament  and  now 
to  destroy  it.  He  was  an  abettor  of  Ship-money,  .  .  . 
and  beeing  told  it  was  against  law,  hee  said,  "  Wee 
shall  find  a  law  for  it  ere  long."  ...  He  said  every 
man  was  bound  by  his  alegence  to  serve  the  king, 
and  noe  charter  could  excuse  them  ;  they  had  already 
felt  the  waite  of  his  little  finger  in  Londonderry  and 
it  was  a  daingerous  thing  to  anger  the  king.'  These 
are  some  of  Sir  Ralph's  notes  of  the  accusations 
against  him. 

Lady  Sussex  writes  :  '  Your  father  I  finde  is  full 
of  sade  thoughts.  I  am  very  sorry  for  Mr.  Gardiner, 
for  I  fear  swete  Cary  will  cuffer  for  it.'  And  again, 


GARY   VERNEY'S   MARRIAGE  61 

a  few  weeks  later  :  '  Swete  Gary,  i  hear,  is  now  a 
marrede  wife  ;  i  pray  god  it  may  bee  happy  every 
way  to  her.  Your  father  i  presume  wase  far  ingagede 
or  otherways  i  belive  he  woulde  not  have  don  it  att 
this  time.'  The  marriage  had  gone  forward  in  spite 
of  the  very  untoward  circumstances  connected  with 
the  bridegroom's  father  :  Sir  Edmund  was  not  one 
to  turn  away  from  a  man  because  he  was  in  disgrace 
either  with  king  or  Parliament. 

There  is  a  pathetic  list  in  his  own  hand,  written 
amidst  all  the  perplexing  business  during  this,  the 
last  year  of  his  life,  of  some  of  the  linen  and  lace  left 
by  his  wife,  which  he  wished  to  give  to  his  child 
on  her  marriage,  and  which  he  seems  to  have  felt 
to  be  almost  too  sacred  to  be  left  even  to  Ralph's 
loving  charge  ;  the  '  fine-lased  day  coyfe,'  and  '  fine- 
lased  day  cornet,'  '  the  seven  handkerchers  lased  for 
pockets,'  '  the  twelve  paires  of  plaine  bottome  cuffs,' 
and  the  '  on  sette  lased  Lawn  roled  up  in  paper,'  &c. 
Gary  was  married  from  her  father's  house  in  Covent 
Garden,  and  some  four  or  five  weeks  after,  in  June 
1642,  the  pair  went  on  their  honeymoon  trip  to  the 
bridegroom's  sister  Palmer,  living  at  Hill  in  Bedford- 
shire. They  were  of  course  on  horseback  and  slept 
at  the  halfway  house  at  Welwyn,  about  twenty  miles 
from  London,  whence  young  Sir  Thomas  Gardiner 
writes  to  his  sister-in-law,  Lady  Verney,  whom  he 
had  just  left  with  the  rest  of  the  family  :  '  After  an 
indifferent  pleasant  journey,  we  came  to  our  Inn 
at  Wellen,  neither  came  there  any  sorrow  uppon  us 


62        VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE  CIVIL   WAR 

untill  some  object  or  other  gave  us  an  occasion  to 
thinke  on  Common  Garden,  and  truly  we  might  well 
be  greeved  to  leave  such  company  and  converse 
onely  with  hedges  and  ditches  and  durty  wayes.' 
But  he  hopes  for  '  better  entertainment  tomorrow 
at  Hill,'  and  sends  messages  to  all  his  friends, 
1  which  done  you  shall  understand  likewise  that  I 
am  neither  Puritan  nor  Roundhead,  but  am  faith- 
fully and  sincerely  and  with  all  my  heart,  Deare 
madam,  your  truly  affectionate  brother.' 

In  another  month  or  so,  the  young  captain  and 
his  child-wife  reach  Sir  Thomas  Gardiner's  house 
at  Cuddesdon  ;  he  seems  to  be  already  released  from 
prison  by  Parliament,  and  Gary  writes  to  Ralph  with 
great  pleasure  of  her  reception  by  her  husband's 
family. 

July  28. — '  I  must  let  you  know  how  wel  I  lik  this 
place.  I  am  confident  you  do  wiss  mee  so  wel  ass  to 
be  glad  of  my  contentment.  Except  the  lose  of  all 
your  good  companie  i  have  more  than  i  did  look  for. 
Whin  I  came  my  granmother  bid  me  very  wellcom 
and  made  what  entertanement  shee  cod,  more  a  gret 
dele  then  I  expeckted,  and  Sir  tomas  and  my  laydy  bid 
mee  very  wellcom  to  Coddisdon  and  sade  they  wisht 
it  might  bee  my  one  [own]  and  truly  uesis  mee  very 
civilly.  .  .  .  All  my  sistars  [in  law]  with  a  grit  dele 
of  complimentes  did  bid  mee  very  wellcom  and  truly 
for  the  contarry  pleshar  wee  have  it,  for  we  ar  abrod 
every  day  tordis  evening  in  the  coche.  ...  I  hope  i 
shall  give  no  cos  to  bar  myself  of  so  grit  a  plesshur 


CARY   VERNEY'S   MARRIAGE  63 

as  contentment.  Deare  brother  lit  mee  now  have 
bot  contentment  more  that  is  as  to  let  mee  heare 
how  my  father  and  yourselfe  dus.  Pray  when  that 
you  wright  to  my  father  present  my  ombel  duty  to 
him,  and  let  him  kno  I  am  will.' 

Sir  Edmund  was  with  the  king  at  York.  Ralph 
replies  from  Gorhambury  :  '  your  letter  brought  mee 
the  welcomest  newes  I  have  had  a  greate  while  [his 
father  had  been  angry  at  his  conduct  in  parliament]  ; 
for  as  I  must  bee  a  sharer  in  all  your  sufferings, 
soe  you  must  give  mee  leave  to  joy  in  all  your  con- 
tentments. Those  good  people  with  whom  you  are 
now  setled  will  still  continew  there  love  and  kindnesse 
unlesse  you  faile  in  your  due  respects  to  them,  which 
I  am  confident  you  will  never  doe.  ...  I  longe  to 
meete  you,  ...  if  the  times  prove  quiet  I  purpose  to 
visite  Cudsden  this  su frier ;  however  it  will  bee  a 
greate  contentment  to  mee  to  heare  from  you  often.' 
Shortly  after  his  marriage  Captain  Gardiner  had 
joined  the  king's  army  in  the  north,  and  the  young 
bride,  writing  to  Ralph's  wife  about  linen  which  she 
had  been  buying  for  her  use,  says  :  '  i  never  grougd 
my  husband  of  any  hapyness  in  my  life  more  thin  i 
did  his  seein  of  you  and  my  missin  of  so  mouch  ioy. 
i  cannot  say  anything  of  him  for  i  have  not  sene  him 
almost  this  fore  months.  hee  is  2  hondard  mils  dis- 
tance from  mee.  think  what  a  trobill  it  is  to  mee 
which  has  so  good  a  husband,  i  du  pray  for  a  hapy 
meeting  of  us  all.' 

It  did  not  appear  that  her  desire  would  be  granted. 


64        VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE  CIVIL   WAR 

The  Civil  War  began  in  earnest,  and  the  decided  part 
taken  by  Ralph  in  favour  of  the  Parliament  was  very 
ill-looked  on  by  the  Gardiners.  In  September  1642 
he  received  a  taunting  letter  in  his  sister's  name,  but 
the  English,  handwriting,  and  spelling  utterly  unlike 
poor  Gary's  confused,  ill-written  scrawls.  It  was 
evidently  from  one  of  the  Gardiners,  probably  from 
Sir  Thomas  himself. 

Gary  had  apparently  offended  the  fiery  old 
royalist  by  wishing  well  to  both  sides  '  for  her  owne 
endes,'  as  she  wished  to  go  to  London  later  to  stay 
with  her  brother  Ralph  who,  as  being  on  what  was 
at  that  moment  the  winning  side,  was  credited  with 
all  the  evils  coming  on  the  kingdom.  The  wish  was, 
no  doubt,  not  a  wise  one,  but  certainly  no  unpardon- 
able offence  in  the  young  bride  of  fifteen,  with  her 
father  and  husband  fighting  for  the  king,  and  her 
much-loved  brother  for  the  Parliament.  The  letter, 
dated  September  5,  Cuddesdon,  was  addressed  '  For  my 
Deare  sister  The  Lady  Verney,  in  the  Peatch  in  Coven 
Garden.'  It  begins  with  contradicting  some  news 
which  ' on  my  worde  is  a  lye '  .  .  'I  heare  newes 
here  wch  I  hope  is  as  false  .  wch  is  that  your  husband 
is  become  a  Traytor,  but  I  cannot  beleive  that  he 
will  live  and  dye  with  the  Earle  of  Essex  to  beare 
armes  against  his  father,  but  I  hope  that  is  but  his 
mind  when  he  is  amongst  the  crowd,  but  when 
he  comes  to  take  councell  with  his  Pillow  he  is 
more  wisely  minded.  But  indeed  the  world  now 
accounts  it  pollicy  for  the  father  to  be  on  one  side 


GARY   VERNE Y'S   MARRIAGE  65 

and  the  son  on  th'  other,  but  I  will  resolve  to  wish 
well  to  both  sides  or  at  least  to  say  nothing  of  either, 
but  it  shalbe  for  my  owne  ends  that  I  may  be 
welcome  to  some  of  my  freindes  at  London  this 
winter,  w&ere  I  would  willingly  be  if  quietnese  soe 
soone  follow  this  troublesome  summer,  so  wth  my  best 
love  I  rest  yr  most  affecate  sister  and  servant.' 

The  letter  was  some  time  reaching  Lady  Verney, 
but  she  is  fully  equal  to  the  occasion  and  answers  as 
soon  as  she  receives  it,  with  proud  confidence  in  her 
husband's  disinterested  integrity. 

September  23. —  '  This  day  I  receaved  a  letter  with 
your  name  to  itt  to  make  me  beleeve  it  came  from  you , 
butt  truly  I  cannot,  because  itt  has  neyther  your  hand 
nor  stile.  If  I  knew  whose  itt  was  I  would  tell  you 
\sic\  whatt  I  think  of  itt.  Butt  if  itt  be  yours  I 
must  desire  you  to  keepe  to  your  old  opinion  and 
believe  your  brother  is  honester  then  those  thatt  told 
you  he  was  a  trayter  ;  for  a  crowde  he  ever  hated  itt 
and  I  know  he  is  soe  good  y*  he  will  nott  suffer  his 
concience  to  be  guyded  by  pollecy  or  any  hope  of 
possible  gam  [scratched  out].  You  may  if  you 
pleas  beleeve  this  truth  butt  however  lett  me  intreat 
you  nott  to  conceale  your  opinion  for  those  pryvate 
ends  you  speke  of  in  your  lett,  for  if  I  were  you  I 
would  nott  purchase  my  wellcome  to  any  place  at 
so  dere  a  rate  ;  and  now  sweet  sister,  since  you  can- 
not right  yourself,  I  guess  it  will  be  troublesom  to 
you  to  read  long  epistles,  therfore  He  conclude  my- 
self yours  to  sarve  you,  M.  V.' 

VOL.    II.  F 


66         VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

Gary's  husband  had  evidently  110  hand  in  the  false 
letter  ;  the  handwriting  is  not  his,  and  he  writes  to 
Lady  Verney  the  same  day  from  Cuddesdon  begin- 
ning with  apologies  for  not  having  written  oftener,  at 
the  same  time  laying  the  blame  on  her  ctwn  party. 
'  Give  me  leave  to  tell  you  that  were  not  your  Parlia- 
mentary officers  so  buisy  in  stopping  and  opening 
Letters,  I  would  presume  to  write  oftener  to  you. 
But  I  hate  to  have  my  secrets  laid  open  to  every- 
bodie's  view,  not  that  I  am  conscious  to  my  selfe  of 
any  ill  in  them,  for  in  that  respect  I  would  not  care 
to  have  them  published  to  all  the  world,  but  me 
thinkes  t'is  neither  fitt  nor  just  that  those  thinges 
which  in  their  owne  natures  were  meant  for  a  private 
conference  betwixte  one  freind  and  another,  should 
be  read  openly  in  Westminster  Hall,  and  those  things 
which  were  intended  for  the  closett,  to  be  proclaimed 
at  the  Crosse.'  He  thanks  her  for  her  letter,  '  wherein 
every  line  was  pleasant  to  me  save  onely  one,  and 
that  was,  you  say  you  never  had  more  cause  to  be 
sadd  than  now  ;  Thinke  you  (Madam)  that  God  hath 
outlawed  you  and  putt  you  out  of  his  protection.  I  am 
confident  your  goodnesse  will  not  lett  you  thinke  soe, 
or  doe  you  suppose  there  is  an  Army  of  wilde  Beastes, 
such  as  Lyons  or  Tygers  are  come  to  invade  the  land, 
for  if  you  are  to  deale  with  men  endued  with  rationall 
soules,  your  vertues  will  be  a  sufficient  sanctuary 
from  any  violence.  Besides  I  beleeve  that  neither 
King  nor  Parliament  have  any  quarrell  against  women, 
who  never  did  either  hurt  save  only  with  their 


GARY   VERNE  Y'S   MARRIAGE  67 

tounges  ;  and,  \vhich  is  most  of  all,  if  in  earnest  we 
have  any  warrs  in  the  Kingdoine  (which  I  hope  God 
will  prevent)  yet  I  dare  proclaime  you  safe  and  im- 
moveable  in  despight  of  fortune.  .  .  .  You  have  a 
father  to  defend  you  on  the  one  side,  and  a  husband 
that  will  doe  the  like  on  the  other:  These  things 

o 

considered,  your  saddnesse  is  to  be  envied,  not  to  be 
pittied,  and  you  should  rather  blesse  God  that  hath 
so  well  provided  for  your  safety  in  these  troublesome 
tunes,  than  be  sadd  and  drooping.  For  my  owne 
part,  come  what  will,  I  shall  make  sorrow  a  stranger 
to  me  as  often  as  I  call  to  mind  that  I  hold  some 
part  in  your  account  and  love.  This  honour  is  an 
Antidote  unto  me  against  any  affliction,  &c.  &c.,  and 
I  shall  never  esteem  myself  miserable  so  long  as  you 
conceive  a  good  opinion  of  me,'  &c. 

A  week  later  Gary  writes  to  Ralph  himself,  this 
time  unmistakably  in  her  own  person  :  '  Deare 
brother  I  only  writ  these  fu  lines  tu  you  as  an  ex- 
presion  of  the  love  and  affection  as  i  ow  you,  or  els 
i  shud  a  bin  sillent  for  i  am  in  a  gr*  dill  of  vexsation 
for  pore  Oxford,  for  this  day  ther  is  12  hondored 
solgars  com  ther,  and  I  am  afrad  that  thay  will 
macke  a  grit  masacar  of  all  the  books.  They  du 
threten  them  exstremly.  What  cannot  be  billeted 
in  the  toune  at  Oxford  is  sent  tu  all  the  tounes  about. 
Wee  look  for  thim  sodenly  in  hopp  thay  willbee  betar 
thin  ther  promyses,  for  if  thay  ar  not,  the  gentell  men 
of  the  contary  will  have  litell  left.  Truly  i  spack 
this  with  a  soro  for  we  are  lick  tu  tast  it  if  threts  prove 

F  2 


68         VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

tru,  i  am  in  a  myty  fright  ;  .  .  my  comfort  is  that 
i  think  i  have  a  louing  brothar  of  you  .  .  I  have 
sente  you  a  somethings  of  min  which  i  desiar  hous 
rome  for  ;  i  thot  it  wos  the  safest ;  i  hop  they 
willbee  no  trobell  tu  you  ;  i  thot  it  best  to  direckt 
tu  you,  becos  it  might  not  be  opened.  My  lady  and 
Sir  tomos  remembars  ther  sarvices  to  you  and  Mrs. 
Gardinar,' — Mary,  afterwards  maid-of-honour  to  the 
queen. 

Ralph  wrote  to  his  brother-in-law  in  a  kindly 
manner  about  '  the  trunke  '  full  of  valuables.  Each 
side  accused  the  other  of  carrying  off  goods,  '  plon- 
daring  '  and  confiscating,  both  probably  with  reason, 
as  the  conduct  of  the  scattered  bodies  of  troops  going 
to  and  fro  to  join  their  respective  armies  was  often 
very  lawless.  Sir  Thomas  replies  rather  majestically 
that  he  has  not  written  '  because  you  beeing  buisied 
about  serious  and  difficult  affaires,  such  indeed  as  the 
whole  kingdome  stands  to  gaze  at,  it  might  be  well 
accounted  uncivilitie  (pardon  me  if  I  mistake)  to  write 
without  some  certainety  of  your  acceptance  before- 
hand. Sr  my  meaning  is  this,  you  have  been  pleased  to 
doe  me  a  favour  and  you  may  well  expect  thanks.  You 
have  given  a  protection  to  my  Trunke,  which  my  wife 
sent  you,  and  you  cannot  desire  lesse  than  an  acknow- 
ledgment. The  truth  is  we  could  trust  it  here  no  longer, 
for  other  counties  are  ignorant  of  the  miseries  of  ours. 
One  extravagant  word,  spoken  but  by  one  man,  is 
enough  to  confiscate  the  goods  of  a  whole  family  to 
the  Parliament  soul diers  ;  what  their  cause  is  I  judge 


GARY   VERNE  Y'S   MARRIAGE  69 

not,  but  methinkst'is  a  strange  kind  of  justice  to  doe 
that  by  force  which  cannott  be  done  by  reason,  and 
I  am  persuaded  that  Conscience  hath  much  to  doe 
on  both  sides,  which  though  it  may  chance  to  be 
Erroneous  yett  ought  to  be  respected.  But  these 
considerations  enter  not  into  vulgar  hearts.  The 
Gentry  (say  they)  have  been  our  Masters  a  long  time 
and  now  we  may  chance  to  master  them,  and  now 
they  know  their  strength  it  shall  goe  hard  but  they 
will  use  it.  I  will  make  no  Invectives,  it  shall 
suffice  me  to  rest  secure  under  your  favour  and 
countenance,  and  as  your  care  of  me  hath  been  in 
some  respect  fatherly,  so  my  relation  must  be 
dutifull.' 

Ralph  with  his  forgiving  nature  answers  amicably 
from  London  :  '  Swete  brother  I  thanke  you  for  your 
letter  ....  for  your  trunke  we  cannot  give  it  pro- 
tection, but  if  you  will  venture  it  heare,  it  shall  run 
the  same  fortune  that  my  owne  must  doe.  How  full 
of  hasard  that  may  bee,  I  leave  to  your  better 
judgment,  for  they  say  the  King  is  cominge  hither 
with  all  his  forces,  I  beleave  he  is  on  the  march 
already.  You  say  it  is  strang  justice  that  the  parlia- 
ment soulddiers  should  doe  that  by  force  which  cannot 
be  done  by  reason.  Tis  true  tis  very  unfitt  for  them  to 
make  themselves  judges  of  what  is  reasonable,  but  on 
the  other  side  you  know  when  reason  will  not  prevaile 
force  must  be  used  ;  the  Law  were  nothing  without 
a  coersive  power,  but  enough  of  this. 

1 1  shall  not  need  to  tell  you  of  the  sad  occasion 


70         VEENEY   FAMILY   DUKING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

that  keeps  me  thus  long  silent  [the  small-pox  at 
Claydon  amongst  his  children  and  sisters] .  I  am  sure 
you  know  it  already,  and  are  so  sensible  of  it  that  in 
compassion  you  will  pardon  your  most  affectionate 
brother.' 

Gary  replies  from  Hill  in  Bedfordshire,  whither 
she  had  gone  when  she  was  first  married.  '  Your 
letter  wos  very  willcom  for  last  weeke  wos  the  forst 
nues  as  i  harde  of  the  misfortin  you  hav  had  amonst 
you  so  latly.  all  the  hous  at  Coddisdone  and  heare 
at  Hill  knuit,  bot  thay  ware  all  my  frends  so  much- 
as  not  tu  tell  me  of  it  till  thay  hard  the  danger  wos 
ovar.  I  am  hartyly  glad  you  ar  so  well  com  horn. 
i  pray  god  erge  you  so  pra  take  hede  of  bein  to 
ventaros,  and  Deare  brother  let  mee  entret  you  not  tu 
be  so  ventaros  as  tu  let  pore  Mon  [Ralph's  eldest 
boy]  com  horn.  I  am  so  frad  of  that  child  that  i  du 
wis  him  heare  with  all  my  hart,  brother  i  du  thanke 
you  for  the  care  you  have  takin  of  my  tronk,  and  am 
resolvede  it  shall  fare  as  yours  dus.  With  many 
thanks  for  this  and  all  other  favors  ....  I  heare 
the  Kinge  is  comin  up  tu  London  and  i  am  very 
glad  att  itt  for  i  shall  hop  tu  see  my  father  ther,  for  i 
hope  tu  bee  in  London  some  part  of  this  winter, 
though  wher  tu  bee  i  cannot  it  till.  My  brother  and 
sister  Pollmar  presents  their  sarvis  to  you  and  the 
rest  of  the  company.' 

Poor  Gary,  with  her  fond  hopes  of  meeting  her 
father,  little  thought  what  sorrow  was  in  store  for 
her,  and  how  within  a  fortnight  he  was  to  lose  his 


CARY   VERNEY'S   MARRIAGE  71 

life  at  Edgehill.  No  letters  exist  from  her  at  the 
time  ;  she  was  possibly  in  London,  where  Ralph  was, 
and  had  thus  no  occasion  to  write  to  him. 

The  winter  brought  fresh  troubles,  as  the  war 
spread  further.  She  writes  to  Ralph  on  December 
13  :  '  The  parlement  has  frittened  ous  from  Hill, 
and  sine  has  frittened  our  carreg  that  wos  comin  to 
ous  back  agane,  and  ther  it  is  in  danger  of  plondarin, 
fore  wee  hear  that  it  was  pot  to  a  vot  in  the  house  of 
comons  wher  thar  my  brother  Pallniar's  [Palmer] 
house  shud  be  plondared  or  no.  If  it  twos  so  dear 
brother,  du  your  bist  to  barsv/ad  thim  from  it,  for  i 
am  shur  i  shall  have  the  gretist  los  for  my  brother 

has  the  fortun  to  send  som  of  his  awav  ;  i  shall  not 

•/  ' 

bee  excused  for  six  hondared  pound  if  they  shud 
plondar.  We  heare  tis  Sir  Roger  Borgin  [Sir  Roger 
Burgoyne]  that  moved  it.  If  it  was,  i  hop  that  you 
can  posswad  him  from  it,  your  solgers  lye  at 
Alsbery.  My  brother's  man  was  taken  there  and  2 
and  fifty  pound  taken  from  him  and  hee  imprisoned. 
Pray  if  you  can  save  Sir  Rogger  Borgin' s  fury.' 

In  the  midst  of  these  dangers  and  troubles  it  is 
strange  to  come  upon  a  letter  full  of  flowery  compli- 
ments, almost  entirely  ignoring  the  distracted  state 
of  the  times.  Mr.  Walter  Rolt  addresses  his  epistle 
'  To  the  faire  hands  of  the  most  vertuous  Lady  Mrs. 
Gary  Gardiner  these  humbly  present,'  and  it  is  tied 
with  red  silk.  '  Lady,  had  I  not  the  honour  to  be  ac- 
quainted wth  yor  incomparable  vertues,  I  should  not 
adventure  to  offer  my  indigested  letters  to  such  an 


72        VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE  CIVIL   WAR 

exact  view  as  yora  whose  witt  and  iudgment  so  infi- 
nitely transcend  the  low  phrase  in  wch  my  penn  dis- 
courseth.  It  is  the  noblenes  of  yor  disposition  Lady 
invites  mee  to  this  prsumption  and  assures  mee  you 
will  grant  as  many  pardons  as  I  cofnit  errors,  wch 
indeede  are  infinite.  Mres  Bennett  hath  beene  ill  since 
your  departure,  but  much  comforted  by  the  frequent 
visitts  of  my  neighbour  Mr.  ffishe  who  (wth  great 
courtship)  will  helpe  to  furnish  her  for  her  ioyrny 
to  London,  and  I  hope  to  have  the  honr  to  waite  on 
her.  At  this  instant  (being  occasiond  by  buisines) 
he  is  come  into  my  house  and  desires  his  service  may 
be  prsented  to  you  all,  but  especially  to  his  Princesse 
(Alack  a  weladay  Phillida  flouts  mee)  :  Lady  you  see 
to  what  a  boldnes  yor  favours  have  encouraged  mee. 
It  is  a  liberty  that  hath  hertofore  found  acceptance, 
from  those  that  have  honourd  me  wth  their  familiarity, 
wch  if  you  please  to  vouchsafe,  I  hope  to  guarde  my- 
selfe  wth  such  circumspection  that  you  shall  not 
repent  of  yor  favours  done  to  yor  most  obliged  and 
humble  servant,  WAL  :  ROLT. 

'  I  humbly  begg  the  favour  to  have  my  service 
prsented  to  Sr.  Thomas  Gardner  and  his  unknowne 
Lady,  yor  noble  husband,  the  Princesse,  and  my  much 
honrd  neighbour  Sr.  William  Palmer.  I  write  no 
newes,  Lady,  I  will  not  trust  these  tell-tale  papers.' 

The  chances  of  war  were  continually  throwing 
power  into  the  hands  of  either  side  to  help  the  other. 
In  1643  Gary's  husband  was  taken  prisoner  in  an  affair 


GARY  VERNEyS  MARRIAGE         73 

near  Windsor.  Sir  Ralph  was  immediately  appealed 
to,  and  wrote  to  Sir  Philip  Stapleton  at  the  head  of 
the  party,  with  whom  he  had  been  serving  a  few 
months  before  on  a  committee  of  the  House.  *  Till 
last  nighte  I  had  no  certainty  of  Cn  Gardiner's  being 
taken  prisoner,  neither  can  I  yett  bee  satisfied  whether 
hee  is  hurt,  or  what  necessities  may  fall  upon  him  in 
this  restraint.  Sr,  the  truth  is  hee  married  my  sister, 
and  I  have  sent  this  servant  purposely  to  be  satisfied 
in  what  condition  he  now  is.  If  you  please  to  doe 
me  this  favour  to  obtaine  him  leave  to  speake  with 
with  him  and  to  afford  my  brother  such  respect  as 
may  be  for  a  gentleman  in  his  distresse,  you  will 
infinitely  oblige  your  .  .  .,'  &c. 

Two  days  afterwards,  Captain  Gardiner  himself 
wrote  from  Windsor  Castle,  '  to  his  most  honored 
sister  the  Lady  Verney  these  present.  Madam,  I  am 
now  released  out  of  Windsor  Castle,  yett  I  shall  never 
forgett  the  kindnesse  wcb  your  Lypp  hath  shewd  me, 
and  it  was  part  of  the  happinesse  that  I  fancied  to 
myselfe  when  I  was  taken  prisoner  that  I  would  have 
scene  you  before  I  got  out,  but  I  am  commanded 
away  by  my  lord  Generall.  Otherwise  I  should  have 
gotten  leave  to  have  the  freedom  of  one  day  and  so 
have  waited  on  you  at  London,  thatt  I  might  have 
expressed  how  I  am  with  all  my  heart  and  without 
any  compliment  your  most  faithfull  servant  and  loving 
Brother.' 

He  adds  a  note  to  Ralph  who  had  obtained  his 
release  from  his  parliamentary  allies  :  '  I  am  now  att 


74         VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

my  liberty,  and  have  approved  by  the  surest  signs 
how  much  you  have  been  my  friend.  I  hope  God 
that  has  preserved  me  hithertoe  will  yett  give  me  life 
that  I  may  face  to  face  expresse  to  you  that  I  am 
your,'  &c. 

In  July  1645,  the  young  soldier,  who  had  been 
sent  out  with  a  detachment  of  the  king's  army  from 
Oxford,  was  engaged  in  a  skirmish  at  Ethrop,  a 
village  four  or  five  miles  from  Ailesbury,  and  killed 
on  the  spot. 

Mrs.  I  sham  writes  :  '  On  Aug.  29,  this  day  3 
wicke,  i  sent  you  worde  as  your  Sis.  Gary  was  a 
widdoe  and  the  jointer  the  Dr.  did  send  for  as  she 
mite  geet  somthinge,  for  never  was  a  woman  lefte 
porer  and  lost  a  beter  Hus  :  But  thes  miseres  become 
upone  us  all  heare  or  as  bad.' 

Dr.  Denton,  sending  the  first  news  to  Ralph,  says  : 
'  Yr  Brother  Gardiner  hath  left  a  sad  disconsolate 
widdowe  great  wth  child  :  she  hath  lost  a  very  kind 
Husse,  who,  though  he  showed  it  in  severall  thinges, 
yett  he  did  it  more  especially  in  the  differences  betweene 
her  and  her  Noverca  [mother-in-law],  all  wch  he 
had  soe  handsomly  reconciled  that  there  was  grow- 
inge  great  mutuall  love  and  respect  betweene  all 
parties.  I  pray  lett  us  know  who  hath  her 
jointure  and  ho  we  we  may  come  by  it  .  .  .  :  he 
had  an  Intention  to  have  setled  as  much  uppon 
her  as  he  could  (soe  well  did  he  love  her)  but 
God  hath  prvented  it.'  A  few  weeks  later  he  writes  : 
'When  her  husband  died  he  left  her  not  a  penny 


GARY   VERNE Y'S   MARRIAGE  75 

in  the  house,  her  father  and  mother  when  I  left  her 
(wch  was  above  3  weeks  since)  had  not  and  I  am 
confident  will  not  contribute  a  penny  towards  her 
releife.  I  had  left  her  penniless  ;  had  I  not  supplyed 
her  wth  a  small  pittance  of  .€5  which  I  feare  is  spent. 
...  To  adde  yett  more  to  her  affliction,  her  Brother 
Harry  Gardiner  (who  was  and  would  have  beene  very 
kind  and  helpfull  to  her)  is  since  slaine,  whereby  the 
hopes  of  recovering  60  or  £80  arrears  for  her  use  (the 
only  supply  she  could  expect  to  keepe  her  alive)  is 
almost  frustrated.  She  looks  for  her  time  wthin  lesse 
then  a  month  and  I  feare  will  want  many  necessaries. 
I  doubt  not  but  my  wife  will  helpe  her  all  she  can  to 
whoine  I  spake  to  supply  her  farther  (if  she  were  ne- 
cessitated) out  of  her  pittance.  ...  I  wish  I  had  a 
purse,  estate  and  power  answerable  to  my  heart  and 
desires  to  help  all  of  her  own  name.  Howr  those 
mites  I  have  I  will  cast  in  to  their  advantages,  and 
especially  to  her,  her  father's  shee-darlinge  and  soe  like 
him.  I  heare  since  I  came  away  that  her  bed  mother 
and  her  husband  are  kinde  to  and  sollicitous  for  her.' 

Ralph  writes  to  her  from  France  :  '  Sweetheart,  I 
heare  of  your  misfortune  and  suffer  with  you.  I  feel 
in  a  higher  degree  then  either  I  can  or  will  express. 
But  at  God's  decree  we  must  not  repine.  The  best  go 
first,  and  tis  a  mercy  to  be  taken  away  from  the  evil 
to  come.  Were  I  able  to  advise  or  serve  you  in  any- 
thing I  should  do  it  most  gladly,  but  at  this  distance 
I  know  not  well  how.' 

He  has  therefore  written  to  the  Doctor  for  help.    In 


76 

October  Gary's  baby  was  born,  and  Henry  Verney 
writes  to  Ralph  : 

'  My  sister  was  brought  to  bed  of  a  gurl  to  all 
our  grifes  [because  a  boy  would  have  made  her  more 
important  to  the  Gardiners] .  She  is  well  ....  and 
intreated  mee  to  desier  you  to  lend  her  the  blacke 
and  yellow  bed  which  standes  in  the  inner  rome  in  the 
parlour  chamber  ;  it  is  but  a  meane  wan  ;  if  you  can 
spare  it,  let  her  have  it  poore  sole,  I  thinke  she  wants 
it.'  Her  condition  was  indeed  pitiable  ;  a  widow  at 
eighteen,  with  a  baby  born  some  four  months  after  its 
father's  death.  The  child  proved  sickly,  with  weak 
eyes,  the  comfort  and  the  grief  of  its  mother,  and  in 
later  years  became  almost  blind.  The  conduct  of 
the  Gardiners  under  the  new  circumstances  changed 
entirely.  When  first  she  married,  Gary,  as  the 
daughter  of  the  influential  Knight  Marshal,  on 
intimate  terms  with  the  king,  and  sister  of  a  man 
highly  respected  on  the  parliament  side,  was  a  useful 
and  valuable  addition  to  the  Gardiner  family,  who 
were  proud  of  the  connection.  As  the  wife  of  the 
gallant  young  soldier,  the  eldest  son  of  his  house, 
warmly  attached  to  his  engaging  little  wife,  she  had 
been  treated  with  the  utmost  consideration.  Gary 
is  described  in  all  the  letters  as  of  a  gentle,  kindly, 
affectionate  disposition,  and  in  later  times  is  spoken 
of  as  exceedingly  popular  and  very  good  company. 
Now  her  father  and  husband  were  dead,  and  her 
brother  in  exile,  she  was  nobody  ;  she  had  not  even 
a  son  and  heir,  and  could  be  of  no  use  in  any  schemes 


CARY  VEBNEY'S  MARRIAGE  77 

of  aggrandisement.  Her  place  at  Cuddesdon,  even 
her  board,  were  grudged  her ;  difficulties  were  made 
about  her  jointure.  '  Sir  tomas  and  my  Lady'  were 
extremely  unkind,  and  Mrs.  Isham  and  Doll  Leeke 
write  with  the  utmost  indignation  concerning  their 
conduct.  Not  long  after  her  husband's  death,  Dr. 
Denton  writes  that  Sir  Thomas  had  made  complaints 
of  her  which  he  is  confident  she  does  not  deserve.  '  111 
instruments  there  will  be,  and  she  has  suffered  much 
from  them,  but  I  hope  God  in  his  due  tune  will 
make  her  innocent  carage  appeare.  I  am  extremely 
cozened  if  she  be  not  much  her  father's  daughter. 
In  your  absence  I  shall  doe  what  I  can  for  her,  but 
I  should  be  glad  you  were  here  to  doe  the  businesse 
better.  I  pray  write  to  her,  for  she  hath  need 
enough  of  comfort,  and  I  know  it  would  please  her.' 
The  temper  of  the  fierce  old  Solicitor- General 
was  not  improved  by  being  turned  out.  '  I  am  sory,' 
wrote  Lady  Sussex,  '  they  have  put  Sr  Gardiner 
outt  of  his  poste,  becas  i  doubt  it  may  be  of  some 
prejudis  to  your  sister.'  The  forlorn  young  widow 
with  her  baby  took  refuge  at  Clay  don,  where  the 
other  sisters  were  living  at  all  odd  times  in  great 
anxiety  and  poverty  after  the  departure  of  Sir  Ralph 
and  his  wife  and  the  sequestration  of  the  estate. 
They  were  even  in  some  peril  from  the  parties  of 
lawless  soldiers  of  both  armies,  who  were  passing  to 
and  fro  continually,  as  Claydon  lay  on  the  border- 
land between  them,  during  the  time  that  the  king 
occupied  Oxford. 


78         VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE  CIVIL    WAR 

It  must  indeed  have  been  a  sorrowful  little 
household  of  women  and  children,  with  only  the  pro- 
tection of  the  old  steward  Roades,  and  as  unlike  as 
possible  to  the  cheerful,  happy  family  party,  which 
had  gathered  at  Clay  don,  under  the  wing  of  Sir 
Edmund  and  Margaret  Verney,  in  the  previous  ten 
years.  From  time  to  tune  Captain  Edmund  or  Major 
Hemy  contrived  to  spend  a  few  days  with  their 
sisters,  which  afforded  them  some  protection  ;  and 
once  Tom  takes  great  credit  to  himself  for  having 
turned  aside  a  detachment  of  soldiers  '  att  the  sur- 
render of  Oxford,  for  I  gave  out  to  all  those  com- 
manders that  took  up  men  for  Flanders  and  other 
parts,-  that  I  marched  to  Claydon  myself,  therefore 
desired  them  to  go  another  way,  which  they  did. 
And  by  that  means  Claydon  was  free  from  that 
insufferable  charge  altogether  by  my  means,  which 
I  am  confident  did  save  his  Lordshipp  of  Claydon 
more  than  seven  pounde  ten  shillings,'  which  sum 
Ralph  had  lent  him  above  his  allowance,  and  Tom, 
more  suo,  was  finding  excuses  not  to  repay. 

After  about  two  years,  Gary  married  a  Mr. 
Stewkeley,  a  man  of  property  in  Hampshire,  who 
seems  to  have  been  a  kindly  amiable  husband,  very 
proud  of  his  fair  young  wife.  He  appears  to  have 
had  a  large  estate  and  to  have  lived  handsomely. 
Gary  talks  of  '  our  being  thirty  in  family,'  and 
having  a  large  household  to  manage.  They  see 
Morley,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  an  old  friend  of 
Ralph,  and  other  magnates  ;  there  are  dinings  and 


CARY   VERNE Y'S   MARRIAGE  79 

dancings  going  on  ;  existence  has  altogether  become 
prosaic  and  comfortable,  a  great  contrast  to  the 
wearing  anxieties,  to  the  passionate  earnestness 
with  which  both  sides  in  the  struggle  were  taking 
life  when  first  she  married. 


80        VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE    RAISING    OF    THE    STANDARD,    1642. 

The  shout 

Of  battel  now  began,  and  rushing  sound 
Of  onset  ended  soon  each  milder  thought. — MILTON. 

AFTER  the  attempt  on  the  five  members  the  chance 
of  any  reconciliation  between  the  king  and  his  people 
became  every  day  more  hopeless.  To  watch  the 
negotiations  between  them,  as  given  in  Mr.  Gardiner's 
most  interesting  volumes,  the  downward  steps  to- 
wards that  Civil  War  which  had  now  become  inevit- 
able, though  both  parties  were  struggling  to  avoid 
it  by  every  means  in  their  power,  as  a  fearful  mis- 
fortune, is  like  following  the  course  of  a  full  and 
rapid  river  just  above  a  great  fall  :  it  is  stayed  for 
a  moment  behind  the  shelter  of  a  promontory,  or 
delayed  by  a  turn  in  the  banks  or  rocks  in  the  stream, 
but  the  resistless  current  sweeps  on  to  the  fearful 
plunge,  unaffected  in  reality  by  any  of  the  puny 
obstacles  which  seem  to  control  it  ;  hurrying  on  at 
increasing  speed,  with  a  power  which  nothing  can 
arrest. 

The  letters  in  the  Verney  correspondence  reflect 
the  growing  alarm,  as  the  impossibility  of  agreement 


THE   RAISING  OF   THE   STANDARD,    1642  81 

between  the  king  and  the  Parliament  becomes  daily 
more  apparent. 

Lady  Sussex,  writing  to  Ralph  on  January  7, 
thanks  him  for  his  help  in  her  business  and  then  goes 
on  :  '  for  panton  truly  i  thinke  him  to  bee  a  very 
carles  deboyse  man.  .  .  .  Wee  have  beene  at  our 
defosyons  [devotions]  to-day,  and  ther  was  some- 
thinge  rede  from  your  Parlyment  to  have  all  the 
tranede  bandes  in  a  redines  [readiness],  the  are  all 
in  great  fear  at  Sentobornes,  and  ever  hose  [  every 
house]  they  say  have  bought  armes  and  gons  to 
defend  them,  i  hope  i  shall  be  safe  heer,  though  i 
have  neither.  It  is  ill  nues  to  hear  there  is  a  pese 
betwixt  Spane  and  frince,  suer  the  will  com  uppon  us, 
and  helpe  eyrlande.  I  pray  God  keepe  us  from  the 
misyres  that  other  nasyons  have  sufferde  by  ware. 
I  am  very  glade  to  hear  your  father  is  so  will  agane. 
i  have  presented  him  with  some  ihely  [jelly]  and 
ther  is  eyght  pots  for  you  and  your  lady,  how  [who] 
i  beceche  you  rember  me  most  affecynatly  to.' 

Jan.  19. — '  I  pray  let  not  your  father  goo  abrode 
to  sone,  though  now  he  bee  will,  he  will  be  apte  to 
fake  coulde  yet.' 

Jan.  29. — '  I  pray  god  ther  may  bee  agreement 
betwixt  the  kainge  and  his  pepell  and  that  pore 
eyrlande  may  have  some  helpe.  i  pray  god  your 
hoses  may  agree  and  then  i  hope  all  will  goo  will/ 
A  few  days  later  she  sends  '  podinges  and  appiles  ; 
give  your  father  some  and  a  pot  of  the  ihely  ;  the 
pephains  loke  ill  favordy  but  the  are  nice  and  swete/ 

VOL.    II.  G 


52         VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

Feb.  23. — l  i  hear  your  parlyment  disposes  of  all 
plases  in  the  coustain  hose  ;  i  pray  sende  me  word  if 
it  bee  so  for  Mrs  Poly  i  belive  woulde  feene  porshis 
on  [purchase one].' 

April  5. — '  I  am  truly  sory  to  heare  your  parly- 
ment goes  on  still  in  cuch  a  violent  way.  I  pray  god 
wee  do  not  all  cuffer  by  it.' 

A  fortnight  later  :  *  my  esex  rents  i  am  suer  will 
be  well  pade,  for  the  have  good  peniworth  and  forfet 
ther  leses  if  the  pay  not ;  i  doubt  bucingamsher  rents 
will  not  be  pade  well.  ...  I  thinke  you  for  your 
nues  ;  i  have  harde  non  good  a  great  while  ;  i  pray 
god  sende  some  :  i  hear  my  lorde  of  argile  hath  dis- 
couerede  some  thinge  of  an  armey  that  shoulde  come 
out  of  iorlonde  to  assist  the  Kainge  against  us  ;  i 
hope  it  tis  not  truth  ;  i  pray  you  sende  me  worde 
whether  it  bee  or  not  ;  you  have  put  done  the 
diurnals  wee  hear  ;  I  am  sory  for  it,  for  wee  was 
glade  to  know  what  you  dide;  it  tis  a  great  favor 
for  you  to  right  so  often  havinge  daly  cuch  great 
affars.  .  .  .  i  pray  sende  me  worde  how  thing.es 
goo  with  your  father  ;  i  mene  in  his  plas  and  other- 
wise.' 

Writing  again  to  Ralph's  wife  she  says  : 

'Swite  Mrs.  Varny,  this  goeing  of  the  Kainges 
to  Yorke  gives  truble  to  us  all,  I  pray  God  sende  us 
pese,  and  then  I  hope  he  will  make  a  spedy  returne  ; 
I  am  hartyly  trubled  for  your  good  father,  for  if 
hee  shoulde  goe  after,  sartinly  it  woulde  bee  very 
dangours  for  him  cominge  from  the  hote  bathes,  I 


THE   RAISING   OF   THE   STANDARD,   1642  83 

pray  God  derect  him  for  the  best,  and  let  me  intret  a 
lyne  or  to  from  you  as  sone  as  you  know  what  his 
resolutyons  are.' 

Since  the  ordinance  passed  by  Parliament  for  the 
command  of  the  militia,  in  direct  opposition  to  the 
king,  the  breach  between  them  had  widened  still  more. 
Urged  by  the  queen,  Charles  had  gone  to  the  north  and 
endeavoured  to  gain  possession  of  Hull,  which  was 
precious  as  a  seaport,  where  he  might  receive  support 
from  abroad,  and  which  also  contained  a  magazine  of 
arms.  Sir  John  Hotham,  the  governor,  however,  had 
refused  him  entrance,  and  the  Parliament  had  entirely 
supported  him  in  his  resistance,  and  sent  a  peremptory 
order  that  the  arms  should  be  removed. 

Lady  Sussex  writes  to  Ralph  at  the  beginning  of 
May: 

'  i  am  very  glade  you  have  so  good  nues  from 
Eyerlande  ;  i  pray  God  the  may  have  victory  still, 
and  then  i  hope  ther  will  sone  bee  ane  ende  of  that 
warr.  God  keepe  it  from  us  hear  ;  suer  the  Kainge 
will  harly  have  pouer  hear  to  ovourcom  ;  the  parly  - 
ment  will  govern.  The  Kainge  sartinly  will  bee  very 
highly  displesede  with  your  mesege  to  Sir  John 
Hotham  and  the  sogers  att  hole  [Hull]  ;  my  brother 
wortly  foles  [foolish]  man  hath  put  him  selfe  into  a 
fare  bisyness  ;  sartinly  great  punnisment  your  parly - 
ment  will  lay  uppon  them  all  ;  and  I  say  I  thinke  the 
desarve  it,  for  them  to  oppose  the  parlyment  in  cuch 
a  way  ;  when  you  right  to  me  i  pray  sende  me  worde 
what  you  thinke  will  becom  of  them  ;  for  i  have  sent 


84         VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE    CIVIL    WAR 

up  to  loke  after  my  rintes  ;  i  doubt  this  nues  of 
Hull  will  make  them  pade  slowly  in,  and  i  must 
pay  supsityes  for  all  my  lordes  estate  and  myne  to  ; 
i  pray  God  mende  the  distractyons  of  thes  times.' 

A  petition  in  very  high-flown  language,  of  which 
Sir  Francis  Wortley  (brother  of  Lady  Sussex)  was 
the  chief  mover,  had  been  presented  to  the  king  by 
some  Yorkshire  gentlemen  in  the  name  of  the 
county,  begging  the  king  to  forbid  the  removal  of 
arms  from  Hull.  Not  long  afterwards  another  much 
wiser  document  was  prepared,  repudiating  the  first. 
Rush  worth,  who  had  been  sent  to  the  north,  with 
some  papers  from  the  Parliament,  was  present  when 
it  was  brought  to  the  king,  and  gave  a  copy  of  it  to 
the  House.  Sir  Ralph's  account  is  as  follows  : 

'  The  King  enquired  of  the  petitioners,  whether 
they  would  defend  his  majesties  person  according  to 
there  duties.  He  also  asked  their  advise  how  to 
vindicate  his  majestie's  honour  for  the  affront  at  Hull, 
and  how  to  put  him  in  possession  of  the  town.'  They 
answered  that '  they  will  defend  his  person  accordinge 
to  there  duties  and  the  lawes  of  the  land  ' — a  very 
prudent  and  cautious  answer.  '  They  know  not  how 
to  advise  concerning  Hull,  but  to  adhere  to  the 
councell  of  the  parliment,  who  are  intrissed  in  it  by 
two  messages.'  A  committee  of  the  Houses  was  resi- 
dent in  Yorkshire  and  reported  that  '  Twine  a  papist 
cried,  "  Com,  com,  let  the  sourd  doe  it,"  and  that 
Wortley  called,  "  For  the  King,  for  the  King,"  and 
drew  his  sourd  with  20  others  against  the  comittee/ 


THE   RAISING   OF  THE   STANDARD,   1642  85 

For  this  Sir  Francis  and  other  principal  men 
were  to  have  been  summoned  before  the  House,  but 
when  messengers  were  sent  down  to  apprehend  them, 
they  produced  warrants  from  the  king,  '  charging 
them  not  to  remove  out  of  the  County  of  York.' 
Lady  Sussex  writes,  concerning  her  brother' s  offence  : 

'  I  am  sory  to  hear  my  brother  wortly  hath  cariede 
himsefe  so  folisly.  Ane  unfortunat  man  he  is  every 
way — your  parlyment  suer  will  lay  hevy  punishment 
uppon  him.  i  cannot  but  have  some  sense  of  him  as 
he  is  my  brother,  but  i  may  speke  it  to  you,  he  hade 
never  much  of  my  hart  for  i  thought  him  ever  full  of 
fanity,  though  belive  me  he  hath  many  good  parts  hade 
he  wisdom  to  have  managede  them.' 

Mrs.  Eure  writes  to  Ralph  from  Malton  in  York- 
shire in  great  distress  at  the  unsettled  state  of  the 
country.  '  I  know  you  heare  all  the  newes  before  we 
doe,  thoe  we  are  soe  neare  the  kinge,  for  we  see  not 
the  face  of  A  sole.  .  .'  '  May  5.  I  hope  the  parliment 
will  laye  no  more  taxes  on  the  cuntrye  for  rents  are 
paid  noe  where.  God  helpe  us.  we  are  liket  to  have 
misorobull  times  I  am  afraid  at  my  hart.  .  .  I  pray 
set  your  helping  hand  to  mend  it  first  by  prayer, 
then  you  know  what  folows.'  Two  days  later : 
'  0  that  the  swete  parliment  woold  com — with 
the  olive  branch  in  its  mouth,  it  would  refresh  and 
glad  all  our  harts  here  in  the  north.  Wee  are  soe 
maney  frighted  peopell ;  for  my  part  if  I  here 
but  A  dore  creeke  I  take  it  to  be  A  drom,  and  am 
redey  to  run  out  of  that  little  valer  I  have,  poore  Sir 


86         VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

John  Hotham  is  so  afrighted  if  anything  comes  but 
neere  him,  that  when  ouer  goods  com  but  to  Harborow 
he  sent  to  know  what  they  ware.  God  he  knows  as 
there  was  nothing  but  clothes  and  2  hogsheds  of 
wine  :  the  poore  man  is  deseved  if  he  thought  to 
have  found  aney thing  else.' 

'  May  21  :  I  consider  thes  are  ill  times  for  tenants 
althou  my  land  lies  as  well  as  aney,  by  reson  they 
are  within  on  daies  journey  as  neere  to  York  as 
London,  so  as  thay  may  send  ther  cattell  hither.  All 
things  growe  one  by  degreese  here,  what  will  becom 
of  all  I  know  not.  I  dought  no  good.  The  newes 
here  is  that  the  parliment  men  intend  to  come  down 
with  twenty  thowsant  to  atend  them,  but  I  wish  you 
all  to  loocke  to  your  selves,  for  you  will  have  A  now 
[enough]  to  incounter  with  you,  for  the  wimin  in  this 
cuntrey  begin  to  rise  ;  there  hath  bin  A  100  with  the 
King,  and  above,  to  have  these  greevaunces  redrest, 
and  he  hath  given  them  soe  good  content  that  they 
saye  he  is  as  proper  A  man  as  is  in  ingland.  I  wish 
you  all  to  take  heed  of  wimen,  for  this  verey  varmin 
have  puld  down  an  inclosure  which  sum  of  them  ware 
put  in  prison  for  it  by  the  justisis,  that  had  their  pipe 
to  goe  before  them,  and  ther  alle  and  cakes  to  make 
themselves  merey  when  thay  had  done  thare  fetes  of 
activity.  I  right  you  this  newes  to  let  you  see  what 
brave  spirits  is  in  the  north.  I  wishe  all  ware  well 
ended,  for  things  stand  in  soe  ill  a  condition  here  as 
we  can  make  noe  money  of  our  Colpits.  If  rents 
faill  and  those  faill  to,  we  shall  be  in  A  hard  case. 


THE   RAISING   OF   THE   STANDARD,   1642  87 

You  will  not  read  my  leter  for  I  rit  it  in  such  haste 
I  have  ofered  to  read  it  myselfe  but  cannot,  soe  I  will 
make  an  end,  and  let  you  have  it  to  trie  what  you 
can  doe.  Your  faithful  and  loving  Ante.' 

Sir    Edmund's  position  was  a  painful  one,  with 
the  prospect  of  being  bound  in  honour  to  fight  for 
a  cause  with  which  he  could  not  sympathise,  while 
he  was   not   entirely  trusted   by  either   side.      No 
wonder  that  Lady  Sussex  wrote  to  Ralph  :  '  Your 
father  i  finde  is  full  of  sade  thoughts.'     In  another 
letter  she  writes  about  Sir  Edmund's  joining  the  king 
at  York  :  '  he  saith  littill  to  me  of  it,  but  sath  if  the 
kainge  commands  he  must  goo  :  I  dorst  not  say  mor^ 
to  him  becose  i  woulde  not  have  him  thinke  you  sade 
any  thinge  to  me  of  it :  you  are  truly  good  and  con- 
siderate of  him  ever  way  :  happy  is  hee  that  hath 
such  a  childe  and  i  that  have  cuch  a  frinde  as  yourself, 
how  [who]  i  proteste  i  do  and  shall  ever  love  and 
valy  above  any  one  ['  Methinks  the  lady  doth  protest 
too  much  ']   .   .  .  you  i  know  have  serious  thoughts 
consideringe  your  father  many  ways.'     A  little  later  : 
'  Your  father  sende  me  worde  the  kainge  hath  given 
him  leve  to  stay  till  he  sendes  for  him  :  i  am  very 
glade  of  it  for  when  he  gooes  i  doubt  the  love  of  the 
parly ment  hee  will  lose  quite,  which  i  fear  will  make 
them  do  him  any  ill  offis  the  can.     I  am  sory  to  hear 
the  lordes  are  rasinge  mony  and  hors  ;  truly  if  the 
sende  to  my  lorde  wee  will  parte  with  non  :   i  hope 
the  will  not  for  wee  are  pore,  and  my  lorde  of  his 
estate  but  tenent  for  life  cannot  till  how  to  pay  a  debt 


88         VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

if  we  rone  into  it  :  your  parlymente  still  goo  so  hye 
that  i  fear  wee  shall  all  bee  runede  by  it.'  June  20  : 
'  Your  father  lyke  a  good  sarvant  i  belive  is  much  for 
his  master,  and  so  i  thinke  wee  are  all  ;  i  wish  he 
may  keepe  that  pouer  that  is  fit  for  him,  but  I  confes 
i  woulde  not  have  the  papests  to  powerfull  ;  the  most 
of  them  i  belive  woulde  be  glade  to  see  the  prodistants 
of  inglende  in  as  misirable  a  condisyon  as  the  are  in 
Eyerlande,  if  it  was  in  ther  pouer  to  make  them  so. 
In  a  fue  wekes  now  i  hope  wee  shall  see  all  that  is 
intendede  ;  i  pray  daly  wee  may  have  no  fitinge  ;  i 
hope  the  Kainge  will  commande  your  father  to  stay 
wher  he  is  ;  i  presume  it  will  bee  more  to  his  adfantige 
than  to  goo.  .  .  .  [P.S.]  Sir,  Since  I  right  this  letter 
i  resevede  your  last,  many  thinkes  for  your  nues  ; 
truly  the  Lordes  protestasyon  my  thinkes  is  a  very 
good  on  ;  to  defende  the  Kainges  parson  honor  and 
estate  and  lafull  progative,  and  priviledge  of  parly- 
ment  ;  my  thinkes  every  on  shoulde  subscribe  to 
this.  I  am  loth  to  ete  in  puter  yet,  but  truly  i  have 
put  up  most  of  my  plat,  and  say  it  tis  solde,  i  hope 
the  will  sende  to  boro  no  mony  of  my  lorde  ;  if  the 
doo  wee  must  denye,  it  tis  anofe  for  us  to  pay  the 
subsities  ;  the  talke  strange  thinges  of  my  lorde  of 
lesex  that  he  will  seek  the  Kainge  to  London  dede 
or  alive  ;  this  is  hye  my  thinke  for  pepell  to  talke  so, 
i  pray  god  keepe  us  in  safty  and  pese,  and  that  wee 
may  be  to  gather  on  month  this  somer  att  lest.' 

The  protestation  here  referred  to  was  one  signed 
by   thirty-five   peers,    who   therein    expressed    their 


THE   EAISING    OF  THE   STANDARD,   1642  89 

belief  that  the  king  had  no  intention  of  making  war 
on  his  Parliament,  '  but  that  all  his  endeavours  tend 
to  the  firm  and  constant  settlement  of  the  true  Pro- 
testant religion  ;  -the  just  privileges  of  Parliament  ; 
the  liberty  of  the  subject  ;  the  law,  peace,  and  pros- 
perity of  this  kingdom/  This  protestation  may  be 
said  to  mark  the  beginning  of  that  party  of  which 
Clarendon  was  the  moving  spirit. 

Ralph  himself  writes  in  a  letter  to  Lady  Barry- 
more  at  this  time  :  '  Peace  and  our  liberties  are  the 
only  things  wee  aime  at ;  till  wee  have  peace  I  am 
sure  wee  can  enjoy  noe  liberties,  and  without  our 
liberties  I  shall  not  heartily  desire  peace  :  both  these 
togeather  may  make  us  all  happy,  but  on  without  the 
other  I  must  confesse  can  never  satisfie  mee.' 

But  though  each  party  made  use  of  nearly  the 
same  terms,  the  difficulty  of  agreement  between  them 
as  to  what  constituted  the  '  true  Protestant  religion,' 
and  '  our  liberties,'  was  the  rock  on  which  all  their 
negotiations  inevitably  split.  The  king  had  called  on 
all  the  lords  and  commons  who  would  support  him, 
to  come  to  York.  The  lord  keeper  had  gone  there, 
bringing  with  him  the  great  seal,  and  many  other 
peers  and  gentlemen  had  followed,  while  a  large  num- 
ber of  members  of  the  Lower  House  showed  their 
distrust  of  the  Parliamentary  leaders  by  absenting 
themselves  from  the  sittings. 

To  the  great  distress  of  his  father,  Ralph  Verney 
continued  to  hold  with  the  Parliament,  though  the 
consequent  estrangement  between  them  made  him 


90         VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

utterly  miserable,  all  the  more  as  he  evidently  began 
to  feel  uncertain  whether  his  party  was  not  now 
going  '  too  hye,'  as  Lady  Sussex  so  often  repeated. 
Nothing  could  be  less  like  the  '  light  heart '  with 
which  both  parties  in  France  undertook  the  wars  of 
the  Fronde  just  then  beginning,  than  the  spirit  of 
Englishmen,  Cavaliers  and  Puritans  alike. 

Lady  Sussex  writes  :  June  24. — '  Both  sides  pro- 
inisis  so  fare  that  i  cannot  see  what  it  tis  the  shoulde 
fight  for.  Thes  fines  and  subsities  on  both  sides 
will  be  a  ruin  to  this  kaindom  and  us.  if  thinges 
should  longe  holde  as  they  are,  we  have  nede  fast  and 
pray  as  much  for  this  kaindom  as  for  Eirlande.  I 
am  very  sensable  of  the  many  ways  of  your  truble, 
i  wish  i  could  share  a  part  with  you.  i  am  very  sory 
to  hear  your  lady  is  not  well,  it  hath  been  a  general 
disese,  a  sore  throat  with  a  cold,  i  have  been  much 
out  of  tune  with  it,  and  many  in  my  hose.' 

Mrs.  Eure  writes  at  the  same  time  from  the  north  : 
*  Times  are  soe  bad  here  as  we  have  not  made  on 
peney  of  ower  coles,  and  we  have  not  received  on 
peney  from  misterton,  soe  my  husband  was  forst  to 
send  for  thos  rents  as  were  gathered  up  to  keepe  life 
and  sole  together,  which  was  but  on  hundred  pounds. 
I  have  still,  about  halfe  my  rents  behind.  .  .  .' 

'  We  do  not  suffer  here  alone, 
Though  we  are  beggar'd,  so's  the  King  ; 
'Tis  sin  t'have  wealth  when  he  has  none, 
Tush  !  poverty's  a  Royal  thing  ! ' 

wrote   Brome   cheerily,   a   royalist   attorney   turned 
song-writer.    Mrs.  Eure   went  on  with  her   lamen- 


THE   RAISING   OF   THE   STANDARD,   1642  91 

tations  :  '  I  am  in  such  a  great  rage  with  the  parliment 
as  nothing  will  passify  me,  for  thay  promised  as  all 
should  be  well,  if  my  Lord  Straford's  hed  ware  of, 
and  since  then  there  is  nothing  beter,  but  I  thinke  we 
shall  be  undon  with  taxis,  and  if  wee  have  no  rents 
neither,  it  will  be  a  hard  cace.  This  daye  the  King 
hath  set  forth  an  answer  to  a  boocke  as  cam  forth  26 
of  Maye.  I  here  as  he  will  set  but  on  more  forth, 
and  that  shall  conclud  all  :  and  so  much  for  nting;. 

7  O 

We  here  strange  newes  from  London,  which  is  that 
maney  have  oferid  to  keepe  horses  for  the  parliment 
to  fight  against  there  kinge,  and  that  my  lord  of 
Holond  is  generald,  which  puts  me  in  the  most  com- 
fort that  we  shall  have  peace,  for  he  hath  had  good 
fortewen  not  to  fight  hitherto  [he  had,  indeed,  been 
suspected  of  cowardice] .  I  hope  he  will  prove  luckey 
still.  I  am  sorey  as  your  father  comes  not  down  all 
this  while  ;  I  beleeve  as  he  was  expected  before  this 
time.' 

Possibly  Sir  Edmund  still  had  hopes  of  an  agree- 
ment between  the  king  and  the  Parliament.  Lady 
Sussex  writes  at  the  end  of  June  :  '  I  pray  god  your 
parlyment  may  still  continue  in  the  good  mynde  the 
was  in  ;  for  i  harde  ther  was  something  sade  that 
showede  the  was  inclynede  to  an  accomadatyon  :  if 
that  good  worke  was  nowe  don  i  hope  we  may  live 
to  see  some  good  times  agane,  and  our  frinde  happy 
and  cherfull.  .  .  .  i  hope  your  father  will  not  goo 
into  the  north  if  ther  bee  likely hode  of  an  accomi- 
dasyon  :  the  kainge,  i  belive,  will  thinke  he  may  do 


92         VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

him  better  sarvis  wher  he  is  [i.e.  in  Parliament]  then 
to  com  to  him.' 

The  hopes  of  an  *  accomidasyon '  were  but  ill- 
founded.  The  last  propositions  of  the  Parliament 
had  been  indignantly  rejected  by  Charles,  who  de- 
clared that,  should  he  grant  such  demands,  he  (  would 
no  longer  be  more  than  the  image,  but  the  mere 
shadow  of  a  king.' 

Both  sides  were  now  levying  troops  and  collecting 
money  and  plate  from  their  followers.  Charles  at- 
tempted to  get  possession  of  his  fleet  in  the  Downs, 
which,  however,  declared  for  the  Parliament  with 
Warwick  as  their  admiral,  and  a  similar  attempt  on 
the  magazine  of  arms  in  Leicestershire  failed.  This 
was  accepted  as  a  declaration  of  war  by  the  whole 
Parliament,  lords  and  commons  ;  they  appointed  a 
committee  of  safety  on  July  4,  and  the  Civil  War  vir- 
tually began.  Though  Sir  Edmund  did  not  join  the 
king  at  York  until  July,  he  had  made  preparations 
beforehand  for  taking  up  arms  in  his  cause.  On  June 
19  he  wrote  to  his  steward  to  get  his  horses  into  con- 
dition in  view  of  a  campaign  :  '  I  praye  take  upp  my 
mare  .  .  and  lett  her  be  kept  att  house.  I  shall 
shortly  send  for  my  coach  mairs.  When  my  mare 
Lea  hath  foaled,  let  the  foale  bee  knockt  on  the  head, 
and  the  mare  taken  to  Howse,  for  I  cannot  spare  her 
this  summer.  .  .  .  There  will  be  a  press  shortly  in 
the  country.  I  praye  let  there  bee  care  taken  to 
thinck  of  some  able  boddyed  young  man  to  goe  in 
King's  roome  for  I  am  loth  he  should  goe.' 


THE   RAISING   OF  THE   STANDARD,    1642  93 

He  writes  again  on  June  30  :  '  When  I  sent  for 
my  Arms  I  forgott  to  send  for  one  peece  as  I  thinck, 
and  that  was  for  my  Gorgett,  it  is  that  which  goes 
about  the  neck,  I  pray  lett  Will  Browne  looke  for  it, 
and  faill  not  to  send  it  to  mee  to  bee  heere  on  Tuesday 
next  by  Moyses,  praye  forgett  it  not,  you  must  send 
mee  upp  by  him  a  paire  of  Pistolls  with  firelocks,  ther 
is  but  one  paire  of  them  left  at  Cleydon.  Send  mee 
woard  wheather  Tom  Isham  has  bought  mee  another 
gelding  or  noe,  you  shall  receave  a  saddle  from  Mr. 
Busby,  lett  it  bee  well  layed  upp,  bidd  the  groome 
bee  carefull  of  my  Horses.' 

Ralph  had  also  written  for  {  a  paire  of  my  father's 
Pistolls  of  the  Best  sort  ;  my  father  tells  mee  there  is 
a  paire  that  have  White  Stocks,  and  part  of  the  Locks 
are  Blew,  and  they  are  very  light.  Let  Moses  bring 
them  upp,  and  bee  carefull  to  keepe  them  from  wett, 
and  let  the  Moulds,  and  other  implements  belonging 
to  them  come  upp  with  them.' 

On  July  5  came  the  news  of  the  arrival  of  a  ship 
in  the  Humber,  bringing  munitions  of  war  for  the 
king,  sent  by  the  queen  from  Holland.  Lady  Sussex 
writes  :  '  The  quine  ever  is  plesede  if  she  have  so  many 
favourites  with  hur  ;  i  doubt  we  shall  all  fare  the 
worse  for  it ;  so  many  heds  togather  will  bee  bysie  in 
ther  plots  aganst  us.'  Again  :  '  I  pray  god  rase  up 
some  good  harts  about  the  kainge  to  seconde  the 
desiers  of  his  parlyment.'  On  July  11  it  was  declared 
by  both  Houses  that  the  king  had  begun  the  war. 
He  had  granted  commissions  for  raising  cavalry,  and 


94        VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

had  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  a  small  force  at 
Beverley.  It  was  resolved  in  the  Commons  that  an 
army  of  10,000  should  at  once  be  raised,  and  Lord 
Essex  was  appointed  general. 

Sir  Edmund  had  now  gone  to  join  the  king  at 
York,  and  with  sad  anticipation  of  the  bad  times  to 
come,  wrote  letters  of  direction  to  his  steward  :  '  I 
praye  have  the  carbines  att  home  in  reddyness  for 
the  defence  of  the  Howse  if  need  bee  ;  and  gett 
powder  and  Bulletts  reddy  ;  for  I  feare  a  time  maye 
come  when  Roags  maye  looke  for  booty  in  such 
houses  ;  therfore  bee  not  unprovided  ;  but  saye  noe- 
thing  of  it,  for  that  maye  invite  more  to  mischeefe 
that  thinck  not  of  it  yett.'  Again  :  '  I  praye  have  a 
care  of  my  howse,  that  roages  break  not  into  it,  have 
stoare  of  bullett  and  powder,  and  gett  some  boddy  to 
lodg  in  the  howse  that  maye  defend  it  if  need  bee. 
Have  my  waggon  in  readiness,  if  I  should  att  any 
time  send  for  it  ;  gett  in  all  such  monnys  as  are 
owing  you  with  all  speede,  for  wee  shall  certainly 
have  a  great  warr.  Have  a  care  of  harvest,  and  God 
send  uss  well  to  receave  the  blessing  of  and  returne 
thancks  for  it.  I  can  saye  no  more — Your  loving 
master.' 

Ralph  also  writes  :  '  I  thinke  you  have  lodged  the 
people  in  ye  hous  very  well.     I  pray,  bee  careful  of 
the   Dores  in  ye   Daytime.     I  thinke    2    men   were 
enough  to   watch  in  ye   Towne   [village]  a  nights, 
untell  the  times  grow  fuller  of  dainger.' 

Gary  Gardiner,  writing  from  the  neighbourhood  of 


THE  RAISING  OF  THE   STANDARD,   1042  P5 

Oxford,  says  :  '  Here  is  nothing  but  soulgers  going 
up  and  down.  The  first  that  came,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Col :  Brown,  a  cochman,  passed  very  quickly 
away,  and  lefte  no  scores.  But  Coll :  Goodwin's  soul- 
gers, and  those  that  came  to  guard  Lord  Saye's  person 
has  pillaged  all  the  colleges  but  three  already,  and 
this  day  are  about  the  rest ;  and  say  when  they 
have  don  they  will  see  what  pillage  the  contry  has, 
so,  for  aught  as  I  see,  we  are  lik  to  be  undone. 

'  My  lady  Lee  on  Thursday  came  to  Oxford  to 
speake  with  my  lord  Saye  concerning  the  armes  she 
had  sent  to  the  Kinge.  If  she  could  she  would  have 
made  peace  with  him.  But  he  not  being  a  courtier 
would  not  listen  to  her,  so  she  returned  away  with  a 
great  blame  the  contry  laid  upon  her  ;  her  being  a 
widow  made  her  to  be  a  little  pittied,  twas  that  her 
fearfulness.  Pray  God  send  us  better  times  or  I  shall 
wish  myself  at  London.' 

A  short  time  before  Hyde  had  taken  refuge  with 
Lady  Lee  at  Ditchley,  fearing  to  be  stopped  by  the 
Parliament  on  his  road  to  join  the  king  at  York. 
The  lady's  coach  with  six  horses  carried  him  to  a 
village  near  Coventry,  thirty  miles,  starting  in  the 
morning ;  '  they  then  took  their  horses  out  of  all 
roads  at  night,'  and  at  length  reached  York.  So 
that  for  many  reasons  Lady  Lee  was  in  bad  odour 
with  the  Parliament. 

Lady  Sussex  writes  :  '  My  lady  Monmouth l  hath 

1  Her  father-in-law  Carey  was  the  first  to  bring  the  news  of  Queen 
Elizabeth's  death  to  James  L,   and  was  created  Earl  of  Monmouth. 


96         VERNEY   FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

bene  with  me,  how  [who]  is  a  much  trublede  woman  ; 
she  fiers  all  will  goo  as  ill  as  may  bee,  but  i  have 
bettir  hopes.'  Mrs.  Eure  is  more  despairing  :  '  In  my 
poore  jugment  this  times  can  bring  no  good  end  to 
them  :  all  that  wimen  can  dou  is  to  praye  for  beter, 
for  sure  it  is  an  ill  time  with  them  of  all  cretuers  for 
thay  are  exposed  to  all  vilinoeys.  God  can  turne  all 
this  in  A  moment  ;  it  is  want  of  ower  prayers  that 
this  jugmentes  are  com  uppon  a  nation.'  In  another 
letter  :  '  I  am  much  troubled  to  see  things  goe  as 
they  dou  ;  it  will  bring  us  all  to  rewin  ;  neither 
papist,  nor  puritan,  aye  nor  protestant  but  will  be 
the  loosers  by  it,  I  believe,  but  I  trust  in  God  as  he 
will  helpe  us,  for  man  is  unabell  of  himselfe  to  doe 
aneything,  and  that  I  doe  dailey  see.  I  pray  God  as 
that  side  may  prevaile  as  hath  truth  on  its  side/ 

On  August  9  the  king  proclaimed  Essex  and  his 
followers  traitors  ;  the  Commons  in  reply  called  upon 
all  members  to  swear  that  they  would  live  and  die 
with  the  Earl  of  Essex,  "  for  the  safety  of  the  King's 
person,  the  defense  of  both  Houses  of  Parliament 
.  .  .  and  for  the  preservation  of  the  true  religion, 
laws,  liberties,  and  peace  of  the  kingdom,'  and  on 
the  18th  issued  a  counter-declaration  by  which  all 
those  who  assisted  the  king  were  pronounced  to 
be  traitors.  Preparations  for  war  were  vigorously 
carried  forward  on  both  sides.  The  22nd  of  August, 


He  was  tutor  to  Prince  Charles  (afterwards  Charles  I.),  with  whom 
his  son  was  '  bred  up '  and  sent  to  travel.  He  was  killed  at  Marston 
Moor. 


97 

1642,  was  a  memorable  day  in  Sir  Edmund  Verney's- 
career.  The  king  set  up  the  royal  standard  at 
Nottingham  and  confided  it  to  his  keeping. 

A  good  deal  of  outward  pomp  marked  the  occa- 
sion, though  flashing  armour  and  bright  sword- 
scarves  covered  heavy  hearts. 

The  standard  itself  needed  twenty  supporters  ;  it 
was  i  much  of  the  fashion  of  the  City  Streamers  used 
at  the  Lord  Mayor's  Show,'  old  Rushworth  tells 
us,  and  '  on  the  top  of  it  hung  a  Flag,  the  King's 
Arms  quartered,  with  a  Hand  pointing  to  the  Crown 
.  .  .  above  this  motto,  Give  Cesar  his  due  '  ;  a  motto 
neither  side  would  have  objected  to — but  what  was 
Caesar's  due  had  yet  to  be  determined  in  many  a 
hard-fought  field.  There  were  several  knights, 
baronets,  and  '  three  Troops  of  Horse  to  wait  upon 
the  Standard  and  to  bear  the  same  backwards  and 
forwards  with  about  600  Foot  Souldiers.  It  was 
conducted  to  the  Field  in  great  State,  His  Majesty, 
the  Prince  [of  Wales],  Prince  Rupert,  with  divers 
other  Lords  and  Gentlemen  .  .  .  besides  a  great  com- 
pany of  Horse  and  Foot  in  all  to  the  number  of 
2,000.'  At  the  last  moment,  when  the  trumpets  were 
to  sound  and  the  herald  at  arms  was  to  make  a 
proclamation  of  the  causes  of  setting  up  the  standard, 
the  king,  with  characteristic  vacillation,  called  for 
the  paper,  made  some  hasty  erasures,  and  gave  it 
back  to  the  herald,  '  who  proclaimed  the  same  to  the 
People  though  with  some  difficulty  after  his  Majesty's 
corrections  .  .  .  and  the  whole  Multitude  threw  up 

VOL.  II.  H 


98         VERNE  if  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

their  Hats  and  cried  God  save  the  King.'  The 
standard  was  carried  back  into  the  castle  at  night, 
and  the  same  ceremony  was  gone  through  in  the 
king's  presence  on  the  two  following  days,  '  with 
.sound  of  drums  and  Trumpets.' 

But  in  spite  of  Rush  worth's  impressive  capitals, 
the  People  and  the  Multitude,  in  a  military  sense 
at  all  events,  were  conspicuous  by  their  absence. 
'  Melancholy  men,'  says  Clarendon,  ;  observed  many 
ill  Presages  about  that  time.  There  was  not  one 
Regiment  of  foot  yet  drawn  thither,  so  that  the 
Train'd-bands,  which  the  Sheriff  had  drawn  together, 
were  all  the  strength  the  King  had  for  his  Person, 
and  the  Guard  of  the  Standard.  There  appeared  no 
Conflux  of  Men  in  obedience  to  the  Proclamation  ; 
the  Armes,  and  Ammunition  were  not  yet  come  from 
York,  and  a  General  Sadness  cover'd  the  whole  Town.' 

Finally,  to  complete  the  mournful  signs  of  the 
times,  the  standard  '  was  blown  down  ...  by  a  very 
strong  and  unruly  wind,  and  could  not  be  fixed 
again  in  a  day  or  two,  till  the  tempest  was  allayed.' 
But  Sir  Edmund  Verney  was  no  fair-weather  friend. 
'  Severely  honest  in  time  of  peace  and  undauntedly 
valiant  in  time  of  war,'  he  had  won  what  every 
soldier  covets — the  post  of  honour  and  of  danger,  and 
he  said  as  he  accepted  the  charge  :  '  That  by  the 
grace  of  God  [his  word  always]  they  that  would 
wrest  that  standard  from  his  hand,  must  first  wrest 
his  soul  from  his  body.' *  His  title  of  Knight 

1  Lloyd's  Memorials. 


THE  EAIS1NG   OF  THE   STANDARD,   1642  99 

Marshal,  with  its  more  peaceful  duties,  is  merged  in 
that  of  •  the  Standard- Bearer/  by  which  he  is  hence- 
forth distinguished  in  the  family  annals. 

Doll  Leeke  who,  in  attendance  on  Lady  Sydenharn, 
was  with  a  part  of  the  royal  army,  writes  to  Ralph 
to  reassure  him  about  his  father  ;  '  the  enemy  are 
very  near  us ;  my  unkell  will  not  be  amongst  them, 
for  the  King  has  given  him  the  Standard,  and  he  must 
goe  no  further  then  that ;  it  will  not  remove  this  3 
or  4  dayes,  and  so  long  he  will  be  safe.'  She  had 
written  confidently  to  Lady  Verney  from  York,  a 
fortnight  before  :  '  The  King  is  in  very  good  condi- 
tion and  increaseth  in  strength  every  day  ;  we  have 
nothing  but  good  nuse  to  send  you.'  She  still  hoped 
apparently  that  Ralph  would  go  the  same  way  as  his 
father,  for  she  ends  by  saying  :  '  I  for  my  part  wish 
for  no  more  men  but  your  husband,  and  I  do  so 
hartily  desire  him  that  I  dreame  of  nothing  els.  I 
am  confident  that  he  will  come.  I  pray  tell  him  so 
and  present  my  serves  to  him.'  She  writes  again 
from  the  camp  to  Lady  Verney  on  September  1  :  '  I 
have  sent  you  all  the  nuse  ;  by  the  diferanc  of  my 
relation  and  that  which  you  have  heard  allredy  you 
will  be  confermed  in  your  opinion  of  our  cavilers 
[cavaliers] .  I  am  confident  thay  will  difer  extremely. 
I  cannot  urdg  you  to  beleve  my  report  becaus  I  find 
it  will  not  plese  you  ...  in  myself  I  am  satisfied 
of  the  truth  of  it  or  els  I  wold  not  have  right  a  word 
of  it,  for  willingly  I  desire  not  to  be  the  reporter  of 
a  ly  :  for  my  confidenc  of  our  having  the  better  of 

H  2 


100      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

the  parlement  I  do  not  remember,  but  if  thay  will 
promis  to  fight  no  better  it  will  strenghten  my 
hopes  ;  but  I  cannot  se  if  we  have  the  better  how 
you  will  sufer,  for  sure  your  father  will  have  power 
to  save  your  husband,  and  if  the  King  faill  I  beleve 
my  unkell  will  hardly  come  of  with  his  life  or  any 
that  are  with  them  ;  therfor  your  condision  is  not  so 
bad  as  you  beleve  it,  at  least  I  conseve  so.  I  think 
non  in  more  dainger  then  myself  and  our  company, 
for  if  we  lous  the  day,  what  will  become  of  us  I 
know  not.  We  do  not  louk  for  any  faver  of  the  other 
side.  I  do  not  love  to  think  of  it  and  I  trust  I  shall 
not  live  to  se  it.  Part  of  our  trouble  now  is  that  the 
wether  grous  could  and  it  will  be  ill  traviling,  and 
we  have  those  things  which  should  have  kept  us 
warme  at  Yorke  ;  but  by  that  time  we  have  folloed 
the  camp  another  yeare  we  shall  have  more  witt.' 

Lady  Sydenham  writes  to  Lady  Verney  at  the 
same  time  in  a  more  anxious  strain.  She  begins  : 
'  My  dere  hart,'  and  wonders  that  Lady  Verney  has 
not  received  a  letter  she  had  sent  in  answer  to  one 
which  arrived  '  by  my  lorde  of  Arundell.  .  .  .  My 
hart  i  ded  as  much  long  for  your  anser  of  min,  becaus 
that  you  ded  exspres  a  trobell  in  yours  to  me  about 
your  hosbands  reselushons.  My  dere  hart  now  i  hope 
that  you  ar  resalefed  [resolved]  of  what  he  will  do, 
and  that  i  finde  is  better  to  won  [one],  thin  to  levef 
[live]  betwen  hopes  and  fars  what  will  happen,  i  kno 
he  has  chossen  the  strongest  part,  but  i  cannot  thinke 
the  best,  but  i  am  confedent  he  dus  beleve  tis  the  best, 


THE   KAISING   OF   THE    STANDARD,    1642          101 

and  for  that  he  chos  it.  But  truly  my  hart  it  stagers 
me  that  he  shold  not  se  clerly  all  thar  wayes,  being 
it  tis  so  aparrant,  for  how  tis  for  the  lebberty  of  the 
subget  to  tacke  all  from  thim  which  ar  not  of  thar 
mind,  and  to  puld  don  thar  houses,  and  impresen 
thim,  and  levef  [leave]  thim  to  the  marsy  of  the 
unruly  multetude — i  cannot  fined  that  this  is  the 
lebberty  of  the  subgete.  Nor  do  i  find  that  it  is  in 
god's  lay  [law]  to  tacke  arms  aganst  thar  laful  king 
to  depos  him,  for  shuer  thay  havef  [an  original  way  of 
spelling  '  have ']  not  mad  his  parrsen  knon  to  all  thos 
that  thay  havef  imply ed  in  this  war  to  spare  him  and 
not  to  kill  him.  But  i  trost  god  will  protecket  him, 
and  my  dere  if  any  of  my  frinds  fall  in  this  quarill 
i  trost  thar  soles  will  be  happy,  for  shuer  tis  laful  to 
fitt  for  won's  laful  king,  i  ded  belevef  that  thay  wold 
resafe  the  king's  mesech  as  thay  havef  don  whin  it 
was  sent,  for  shuer  tis  not  pese  which  thay  desier  ; 
shuer  thay  trost  in  that  myti  hoste.  Dere  hart  you 
say  in  your  leter  that  i  sholed  mistrost  your  lovef  to 
me  becaus  that  i  hafe  not  resafed  your  leters  ;  truly 
my  dere  it  was  never  grondid  uppon  such  a  weeke 
fondashon  as  to  let  such  a  thing  shacke  it,  for  you 
won  my  hart  by  your  worth,  and  till  I  fined  that 
wanting  i  cannot  let  my  lovef  gro  les  ;  for  tho  you 
shold  not  ryet  [write]  yet  i  shold  be  confedent  that 
you  lovefed  me,  for  i  am  shuer  till  i  do  sumthing  to 
desarf  your  desfavor  i  shall  belefe  i  havef  it,  and  i 
am  confedent  that  i  never  shall  never  do  any  thing 
to  lesen  your  good  openyon  of  me,  for  my  dere  i  do 


102      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

lovef  you  with  my  sole.  .  .  .  Thar  is  non  that  you 
havef  a  more  abslate  power  over  thin  her  that  is  fath- 
fully  your  tru  frind  and  houmbell  sarvant  to  my  last 
of  beinge.  Anne  S.' 

The  king's  position  was  really  very  far  from  being 
secure,  and  he  evidently  shrank  from  carrying  on  the 
war,  though,  as  usual,  he  was  swayed  to  and  fro  by 
the  opinions  of  those  about  him.  Lady  Sussex  wrote  : 
1 1  hear  from  mr  bakon  how  [who]  i  belive  hath  it  from 
[sic]  brother  that  the  Kainge  is  very  much  inclinede 
to  pese,  and  prest  much  he  is  to  goo  on  in  this  way 
of  ware  by  some  ill  speriets  he  gives  is  eare  to,  which 
i  becech  god  may  bee  removede.  .  .  .  i  belive  the 
Kainge  is  not  resolvede  in  his  one  thoughts  wher  to 
setall.' 

The  defeat  of  the  royalists  in  a  skirmish  near 
Coventry  strengthened  the  peace  party  with  the 
king,  and  on  August  25  he  sent  Lord  Southampton 
with  Culpepper  and  Uvedale  to  London  with  a  pro- 
posal that  a  commission  should  be  appointed  to  treat 
for  peace,  and  at  the  same  time  he  reiterated  his  desire 
to  maintain  the  Protestant  religion  and  the  laws. 

Lady  Sussex  writes  to  Ralph  on  Aug.  28:  'i 
must  thinke  you  for  your  lettir,  and  till  you  i  am 
very  glade  all  is  will  at  cladon,  for  i  hope  wee  shall 
have  now  the  blesinge  of  pese,  my  lorde  sashamton 
and  dosete  sent  to  boro  my  koch  as  the  went  by,  and 
truly  i  coulde  not  bee  so  unsivell  to  denye  itt.  i 
hope  i  dide  not  do  a  mise  [amiss]  they  gooinge  about 
so  good  a  worke.  I  hear  there  hath  bene  a  good 


THE   RAISING   OF   THE   STANDARD,   1642          103 

yonge  captin  of  the  kainges  side  since  with  Sr  Tomis 
Mutis,  and  he  i  belive  hath  tolde  the  truth  of  all ; 
wee  shall  have  noe  fitinge,  for  the  kainge  hath  neither 
mony  nor  men.  Ther  cam  in  fue  or  non  att  all  aftir 
the  standarde  was  set  up,  it  semes  the  kainge  sent 
and  gave  much  of  his  monyes  to  the  trane  bandes  in 
yorkesher  and  other  places,  thinkainge  to  make  them 
suer  to  him,  and  when  he  woulde  have  hade  them 
they  all  fell  of,  and  sade  the  woulde  not  fite  aganst 
ther  brethrne,  and  ever  daye  his  army  lesones,  the 
fall  away  from  him ;  this  yonge  man  was  att  Coventry  ; 
to  or  thre  and  twenty  was  kailde  ;  on  of  my  lorde 
Scidmor's  [?  Scudamore]  brothers  was  shot  in  the 
arme  so  clos  to  his  shoulder  that  is  arme  must  bee 
cut  of.  My  lorde  doset  sent  me  worde  hee  woulde 
wate  uppon  me  within  fue  dayes,  but  i  presume  that 
was  but  in  a  complyment,  i  hope  he  doth  not  intende 
it ;  he  sade  he  hade  brought  that  which  woulde  bringe 
pese  if  the  parlyment  woulde  harken  to  it ;  suer  the 
may  make  ther  one  condisyons  now.  God's  power  is 
above  all,  wee  coulde  not  have  thoght  this  woulde 
have  bene  within  this  fue  dayes,  for  that  side  to  sub- 
mite  furst ;  sartinly  the  good  prayrs  hath  prefalede 
much  ;  now  i  beelive  ther  will  bee  much  bisynes  in 
the  parlyment  shorly  ;  for  god  sake  com  to  me  as 
sone  as  you  can  and  your  swite  lady,  for  i  fear  i  shall 
not  now  keepe  you  as  i  wode  doo  ;  i  promisede  my 
selfe  your  compiny  on  quartir  of  a  year  att  lest,  and 
i  fear  i  shall  not  have  that  happines  but  a  littill 
time.' 


104      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE    CIVIL   WAR 

In  reply  to  the  king's  proposal  the  Parliament 
had  refused  to  treat  until  the  royal  standard  should 
be  taken  down,  and  the  charge  of  treason  against 
their  members  withdrawn,  and  a  second  attempt  on 
Charles's  side  to  come  to  terms  was  equally  unsuccess- 
ful. Each  party  meanwhile  prepared  to  carry  on  the 
war,  and  various  parts  of  the  country  in  turn  declared 
for  one  side  or  the  other. 

The  following  letters  show  how  grievously  Sir 
Edmund  felt  the  division  between  him  and  Ralph, 
how  had  taken  the  oath  of  adherence  to  the  parlia- 
mentary cause,  and  was  now  therefore  in  avowed 
opposition  to  the  king.  It  must  indeed  have  been  a 
trying  time  to  Ralph  also.  It  was  no  light  matter  in 
those  dayr*  to  take  the  side  of  the  Parliament  ;  the 
points  in  dispute  were  matters  of  life  and  death  to 
every  individual,  male  and  female,  in  the  kingdom, 
and  the  agony  of  doubt  upon  questions  which  are 
now  to  us  as  clear  as  the  day  must  have  been  as  the 
dividing  asunder  of  soul  and  body.  On  September  5 
Lady  Sussex  writes  to  him  :  '  I  hear  my  lorde  fake- 
lande  and  my  lorde  Spencer  went  thro'  Sentarbones 
on  Satterday  ;  i  imagin  it  was  with  some  proposi- 
tions from  the  Kainge.  i  pray  God  the  may  bee  such 
as  may  be  yieldede  to,  but  I  beleeve  ther  will  bee  a 
longe  trety  before  the  are  brought  about  for  pese,  i 
pray  God  sende  it  att  last.  I  long  to  hear  how  your 
father  takes  your  protistasyon  to  the  purlyment.  i 
fear  he  will  bee  much  trublede  att  farst,  but  in  a  littill 
i  hope  will  make  him  pase  itt  over,  i  finde  by  your 


THE  RAISING   OF  THE   STANDARD,   1642          105 

father's  letter  you  sent  me  done,  he  is  a  most  sade 
man.  i  pray  God  he  may  do  well,  i  fear  his  trubles 
togather  mil  make  an  end  of  him.  He  was  at  Kail- 
lingsworth  with  the  Kinge  i  harde  from  my  lady 
Monmouth.  Mr  Tyerman  was  this  last  wike  at  Not- 
tingham, about  a  good  liveinge,  but  he  falede  of  it  ;  he 
did  not  see  your  father.  All  thinges  there  is  as  we 
have  harde,  much  complant  for  mony  amongst  the 
sogers.  He  suppede  with  my  lord  keeper  [Lyttel- 
ton]  who  lyes  in  a  minister's  hose  ;  he  told  me  in 
discors  to  him,  he  wishede  he  hade  never  kiione  the 
court.  That  silver  my  lorde  Warwicke  sent  in  when 
i  was  at  Chelsey,  itt  seemes  was  expectede  at  Not- 
tingam,' — plate  which  Lord  Warwick  was  'evidently 
concealing  to  avoid  sending  to  the  help  of  the  king. 

About  September  9  she  has  had  a  letter  from  Sir 
Edmund.  '  It  was  a  very  sade  on  and  his  worde  was 
this  of  you  ;  "  madam  he  hath  ever  lane  near  my  hart 
and  truly  he  is  ther  still ; "  that  he  hade  many  afflictyon 
uppon  him,  and  that  you  hade  usede  him  unkaindly  ; 
this  was  the  effect  of  itt.  The  paper  you  sent  of  is 
[his]  letter  to  you  i  bornt  presently  ;  i  shall  never 
open  my  lipes  of  that  nor  any  thinge  else  you  trust 
me  with  ;  he  is  passynate,  and  much  trublede  i  belive 
that  you  declarede  yourselfe  for  the  parlyment  :  a 
littill  time  will  disgest  all  I  am  confident.  I  hartily 
wish  you  coulde  have  bene  with  me  some  littill  time 
when  he  comes  furs  [first]  to  london  ;  may  bee  he 
woulde  have  the  Kainge  thinke  hee  was  a  littill  dis- 
plesede  with  you  for  goinge  that  way  :  if  you  can  be 


106      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

absent  from  the  parlyment  i  tbinke  it  woulde  be 
very  will  :  i  am  suer  i  shoulde  thinke  it  a  very  great 
happines  to  me  your  companye  and  your  swite  ladyes. 
Now  lett  me  intrete  you  as  a  frende  that  loves  you 
most  hartily,  not  to  right  passynatly  to  your  father, 
but  ovour  com  him  with  kaindnes  ;  good  man  I  see 
bee  is  infinetly  malincoly,  for  many  other  thinges  i 
belive  besides  the  difference  betwixt  you.  For  god 
sake  give  nothinge  to  the  parlyment  derectly  nor 
inderectly  :  i  hope  in  the  lorde  ther  will  bee  pese  ; 
the  parlyment  will  show  ther  great  strenth,  which 
sartinly  will  case  the  Kainge  to  yealde  to  most  of 
ther  demandes  .  .  .  wee  have  great  store  of  sogers 
now  att  Sentaborns  cam  tonight  and  the  say  threcore 
cartis  of  amanisyon  and  thinge  for  that  use,  and  ten 
great  peses  drane  uppon  whiles  [wheels],  and  the 
Indes  of  court  gentillmen  to  garde  my  lordes  parson 
is  com  too,  the  say  very  fine  and  well  horsede.  If 
this  soger  be  passede,  i  hope  wee  shall  have  no  more 
to  friton  us.  .  .  .  My  lorde  Willmot  hath  bene  a 
soger  ;  an  experincede  man  he  is,  ther  fore  it  tis  will 
to  make  him  safe.  Mr.  Goringe 1  i  hope  must  bee 
punishide  sondly.  God  hath  blesede  all  your  pro- 
sidinges  in  parlyment  wonderfully.  ...  I  belive 
the  quine  will  bee  hear  shorly,  Doctor  Myorne  [the 
fashionable  physician]  tolde  me  he  harde  soe  much. 
This  lettir  I  becech  you  sende  to  your  father  by  the 


1  Lord  Goring  had  held  Portsmouth  for  the  king  and  had  been  com- 
pelled to  surrender  it  to  the  Parliament,  by  whom  he  was  justly  held 
in  detestation  for  his  worthless  character. 


THE   RAISING  OF  THE   STANDARD,   1642          107 

next  opportunity  :  i  have  chidden  him  truly  and  sade 
as  well  as  i  can  to  him.'  The  next  day :  '  I  sente  you 
a  criblede  paper  yester  day,  but  that  i  desierde  i  see 
is  not  to  bee  hade,  for  my  lorde  of  Esexe  is  gon  by.' 
She  has  just  received  a  letter  from  Sir  Edmund  :  '  i 
see  hee  findes  some  more  of  his  frindes  goo  of  from 
what  he  expectede.  .  .  .  He  sath  the  [the  royalists] 
are  stronger  then  is  belivede.'  A  few  days  later  :  '  I 
see  you  to  much  appryhende  this  unhapye  diffirence 
betwixt  your  father  and  selfe  :  i  am  very  confident  a 
littill  time  will  make  all  will  agane  and  his  affecyon 
to  you  ase  deare  and  harty  as  ever,  i  pray  bee  not 
sade  ;  that  will  doo  you  a  great  dell  of  hurt  i  am 
suer.  If  it  pies  Grod  your  father  retorne,  i  hope  one 
discorse  or  to,  will  make  all  will  agane  betwixt  you. 
If  Mrs.  Sidnam  and  the  rest  of  your  frindes  with  him 
be  not  harty  in  doinge  all  good  offeses  betwixt  you, 
the  are  most  file  unworthy  pepell.  If  you  hade 
falede  in  any  thinge  of  duty  or  love  to  him  it  hade 
bene  some  jost  case  of  exceptyon,  but  in  goinge  the 
way  your  consince  telles  you  to  be  right,  i  hope  he 
hath  more  goodnes  and  religone  then  to  continue  in 
displesuer  with  you  for  it.' 

In  her  next  letter  :  '  I  am  truly  sory  to  hear  the 
Kainge  is  returnede  from  Nottingam  [Charles  had 
retreated  westwards  before  Essex  to  gain  rein- 
forcements], i  fear  he  will  make  this  a  tedious 
bissynes,  and  much  blode  will  bee  spilte  befor  ther 
be  ane  ende  of  it  ...  I  wish  my  lorde  merkwis 
[Hertford,  who  held  out  in  Sherborne  Castle  for  the 


108      VERNEY   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

king]  was  as  safe  as  the  other  lordes  that  hath 
offendede  and  are  taken  ;  if  he  have  the  bitter  of  it 
sartinly  it  will  bee  much  disadfantige  to  the  parlyment 
side.  Sir  tomis  chike  i  belive  is  not  att  all  plesede  with 
his  sone  rogers  beinge  strenth  [i.e.  aide-de-camp]  to 
my  lorde  Harfort.  As  i  am  thus  far  of  my  litter  i 
hear  the  Kainge  hath  sente  an  other  mesege  to  your 
parlyment,  i  pray  God  it  bee  a  good  one  :  your  father 
will  cuffer  many  wayes  i  fear  if  the  Kainge  gos  on 
in  this  way  he  begines  ;  sende  not  my  letter  to  him, 
i  pray,  till  you  mete  with  a  safe  messenger.' 

After  the  middle  of  September  there  are  no  letters 
from  Lady  Sussex  for  a  month  ;  Ralph  was  appa- 
rently staying  with  her.  Whether  his  father  wrote 
to  him  during  all  this  time  does  not  appear ;  there 
.are  no  letters  from  him  to  be  found  after  the  begin- 
ning of  August. 

O  tell  me,  friends,  while  yet  ye  hear — 

May  it  not  be,  some  coming  year, 

These  ancient  paths  that  here  divide 

Shall  yet  again  run  side  by  side, 

And  you  from  there,  and  I  from  here, 

All  on  a  sudden  reappear  ? 

O  tell  me,  friends,  while  yet  ye  hear  ! — CLOUGH. 


109 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SIR   EDMUND    STRIKES    HIS   LAST   BLOW   FOR 
THE    KING. 

And  they  shall  be  as  when  a  standardbearer  fainteth.  — ISAIAH  x.   18. 

IN  the  course  of  the  two  months  that  had  elapsed 
from  the  raising  of  the  standard,  '  that  low  despised 
condition  the  King  was  in '  (which  Clarendon  de- 
scribes) had  considerably  improved.  In  October  he 
had  6,000  foot,  2,000  horse,  and  a  siege  train.  The 
great  difficulty  was  about  arms.  800  musquets,  500 
pair  of  pistols,  and  200  swords  did  not  amount  to  a 
very  efficient  equipment  for  reconquering  a  kingdom, 
although  some  more  arms  were  borrowed  from  the 
train-bands,  and  some,  but  '  very  mean,'  from  the 
armouries  of  persons  of  quality  ;  these  were  eked  out 
with  cudgels,  pikes,  and  pole-axes. 

We  are  apt  to  forget  the  exceeding  rudeness  of 
the  weapons  with  which  the  contest  was  carried  on 
by  both  parties  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War.  In 
the  returns  of  arms,  particularly  for  the  northern 
levies,  the  long-bow,  the  cross-bow,  and  the  brown  bill 
are  given  among  the  equipments  of  a  man  at  arms, 
together  with  old  armour  which  had  been  hung  up 
on  the  walls  of  churches,  manor-houses,  and  cottages 


110      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

for  years.  It  was  not  until  the  stores  at  Hull,  New- 
castle, Plymouth,  and  in  the  Tower  of  London  were 
distributed,  that  matchlocks  and  pistols  were  put 
into  the  hands  of  the  ordinary  soldier.  Many  large 
bodies  of  men  fought  only  with  rude  lances  and 
pikes  even  to  the  end  of  the  war  ;  several  thousand 
Welshmen  on  the  king's  side  were  only  armed 
with  staves  and  Danish  clubs. 

'  The  officers  had  their  full  desire,'  says  Clarendon, 
1  if  they  were  able  to  procure  old  backs  and  breasts 
and  pots,  with  pistols  or  carabines,  .  .  .  but  no  pike- 
man  had  a  corselet  and  very  few  musqueteers  had 
swords.'  Nothing  could  have  been  more  cumbrous 
and  inconvenient  than  the  matchlocks,  arquebuses,  and 
musquets  even  when  they  were  obtained  ;  the  guns 
were  of  immense  length,  and  could  only  be  fired 
from  an  iron  rest  fixed  in  the  ground,  several  of 
which  have  been  ploughed  up  in  the  fields  about 
Claydon,  where  fighting  had  gone  on  in  the  years 
1643-44.  The  very  bad  powder  was  ignited  by  a  tarred 
rope  which  was  carried  alight  by  the  soldier,  who 
was  obliged  to  march  '  shouldring  his  gun  and 
rest,'  and  must  have  been  terribly  encumbered. 

When  Charles  was  besieging  Coventry,  Colonel 
Legge  sent  him  two  '  apothecaries  mortars,'  which 
were  eagerly  welcomed. 

Guns  are  said  to  have  been  first  introduced  at  the 
battle  of  Crecy,  but  the  English  cross-bow  held  its 
own  till  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War,  and  the  last 
arrow  shot  in  warfare  was  .believed  to  have  been  at 


SIR  EDMUND   STRIKES   HIS  LAST  BLOW         111 

the  siege  of  Devizes  under  Cromwell.  Even  this  was 
a  dereliction  from  the  ideal  of  warfare  of  the  middle 
ages,  which  consisted  in  a  hand-to-hand  encounter. 
An  ancient  hero  like  Bayard  declared  '  that  it  was 
humiliating  that  a  man  with  a  heart  in  him  should  be 
exposed  to  destruction  by  a  wretched  gun.'  Fighting 
at  push  of  pike,  looking  an  enemy  in  the  face,  was 
the  only  honourable  battle.  To  hack  at  each  other 
with  brazen  swords,  which  must  have  killed,  if  at  all, 
by  the  weight,  not  the  sharpness  of  the  blade  ;  to  fell 
.an  enemy  by  sheer  strength  of  arm  with  a  club,  as 
did  Achilles  and  Hector  at  a  still  earlier  period, 
were  hardly  yet  out  of  date.  '  Would  to  God,'  said 
Moultrie,  ( that  accursed  instrument  [the  arquebuse] 
had  never  been  invented.  I  should  not  now  bear  the 
marks  of  it,  and  many  brave  and  valiant  men  would 
not  have  been  killed  by  cowards,  who  would  not  dare 
to  look  in  the  face  of  him  whom  they  stretched  on 
the  ground  with  their  cursed  bullets.' 

On  October  12,  1642,  the  king  advanced  from 
Shrewsbury,  and  decided  to  march  upon  London,  the 
road  to  which  lay  open,  and  he  had  been  two  days 
on  the  way  before  Lord  Essex,  commanding  the  par- 
liamentary army  at  Worcester,  became  aware  of  his 
design.  London  was  only  defended  by  the  train 
bands,  and  if  Charles  had  marched  directly  on  the 
Houses  of  Parliament,  he  might  perhaps  have  ended 
the  war.  But  '  unhappy  jealousies  were  quickly  dis- 
covered' among  his  commanders.  Prince  Rupert 
would  receive  no  orders  from  Lord  Lindsey,  the 


112      VERNE Y   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

general-in-chief,  and  quarrelled  with  Lord  Falkland,. 
1  a  very  evil  presage.'  The  utter  ignorance  011  both 
sides  of  the  most  ordinary  maxims  of  war  appears 
by  the  fact  that  '  the  two  armies,  though  they  were 
but  20  miles  asunder,  when  they  first  set  forth,  and 
both  marched  the  same  way,  gave  not  the  least  dis- 
quiet in  ten  days  march  to  each  other  ;  and  in  truth, 
as  it  appeared  afterwards,  neither  army  knew  where 
the  other  was  '  ! l 

Essex's  main  body  encamped  at  Keinton,  much 
fatigued  by  marching  through  a  deep  clay  country. 
The  parliamentary  account  says  that  they  intended 
to  rest  there  during  the  Sabbath  day,  '  and  the  rather 
that  our  artillery  and  the  forces  left  with  it  might 
come  up.'  They  had  11  regiments  of  foot,  42  troops 
of  horse,  and  about  700  dragoons,  in  all  about  10,000 
men.  '  In  the  morning  ...  we  had  news  brought 
us  that  the  enemy  was  two  miles  from  us,  upon  a 
high  hill  called  Edgehill ;  where  upon  we  presently 
marched  forth  into  a  great  broad  field  under  that 
hill,  called  the  vale  of  the  red  horse,  and  made  a  stand 
some  half  a  mile  from  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  there 
drew  into  battalia,  where  we  saw  their  forces  come 
down  the  hill  ;  and  drew  likewise  into  battel  in  the 
bottom,  a  great  broad  company,  .  .  .  they  that  say 
least,  say  14,000.' 

The  king  had  reached  Edgecot  near  Banbury. 
The  Royalist  account  given  in  Rushworth  says  that 
on  Sunday  morning  at  three  o'clock  he  received  in- 

1  Clarendon,  Book  VI. 


SIR  EDMUND   STRIKES  HIS  LAST  BLOW 

telligence  of  the  approach  of  the  rebels,  upon  which 
he  gave  orders  for  the  whole  army  to  march  to  Edge- 
hill,  about  four  miles  off.  Here  they  perceived  the 
rebels'  army  drawn  out  in  the  valley  below.  The 
hill  is  very  truly  an  edge,  where  the  high  tableland 
extending  towards  Banbury  breaks  off  in  a  precipitous 
wooded  descent,  to  the  flat  ground  below  Keinton. 
On  the  very  '  edge '  itself  is  a  solitary  old  inn,  '  The 
Sun  Rising,'  which  existed  at  the  time  of  the  battle, 
with  a  magnificent  view  over  the  great  sea  of  plain 
and  low  hills  reaching  to  the  Malvern  range  to  the 
north-west. 

Here  Charles  breakfasted  on  the  morning  of  the 
23rd,  attended  by  Sir  Edmund  Verney,  and  here  he 
left  the  two  boy  princes,  Charles  and  James,  aged 
twelve  and  ten,  with  their  tutor,  Dr.  Harvey,  so  busy 
it  is  said  with  his  speculations  concerning  the  circu- 
lation of  the  blood,  that  he  did  not  perceive  in  time 
that  the  king's  forces  were  retreating,  and  his  charges 
were  in  considerable  danger  of  being  taken  prisoners. 

The  king's  position  on  the  high  ground  was 
extremely  strong,  but  it  was  impossible  for  him  to 
delay  the  action.  It  was  urged  that  he  was  for  the 
moment  superior  in  numbers  to  the  enemy,  and  that 
his  cavalry  could  act  with  great  advantage  in  the 
plain  below  ;  moreover,  the  country  round  belonged 
chiefly  to  the  Lords  Brooke  and  Saye  and  Sele  and" 
was  bitterly  hostile  to  him ;  the  soldiers  had  been 
forty-eight  hours  almost  without  food,  and  the  people 
were  so  disaffected  that  the  army  could  obtain  '  neither 

VOL.11.  I 


114      VERNE  Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

meat  for  man  or  horse/  nor  information,  and  the 
smiths  hid  themselves  so  that  the  troopers'  horses 
could  not  be  shod,  '  of  which  in  those  stony  ways 
there  was  great  need.'  Charles  therefore  resolved 
to  give  battle,  and  accordingly  the  troops  were 
marched  down  the  hill  ;.  '  but  before  that  was  done 
and  the  King's  artillery  came,  it  was  past  two  in  the 
afternoon.' 

The  infantry  in  the  centre  of  the  royal  army 
was  commanded  by  Lord  Ruthven  and  Sir  Jacob 
Astley  ;  Lord  Lindsey,  accompanied  by  his  son  Lord 
Willoughby,  commanded  the  regiment  of  guards  in 
which  was  the  king's  standard,  carried  by  Sir 
Edmund  Verney,  while  the  insubordinate  Prince 
Rupert  was  at  the  head  of  the  right  wing  of  horse. 
Behind,  a  little  to  the  right,  came  the  king  with  his 
pensioners  ;  he  rode  clad  in  armour,  and  wearing  over 
it  a  black  velvet  mantle  whereon  was  his  star  and 
garter,  with  a  steel  cap  covered  with  velvet  on  his 
head.  He  addressed  his  troops  briefly,  '  but  yet 
lovingly  and  loyally  toward  you  our  loyal  army,' 
telling  them  that  God  and  the  justice  of  his  cause, 
together  with  the  love  he  bore  to  his  whole  kingdom, 

O  O  / 

must  encourage  them  ;  '  Your  King  bids  you  be 
courageous,  and  Heaven  make  you  victorious.'  The 
prayer  breathed  by  the  veteran  Sir  Jacob  Astley, 
immediately  before  the  advance,  was  remembered 
afterwards  : — '  Oh  Lord,  thou  knowest  how  busy  I 
must  be  this  day.  If  I  forget  thee,  do  not  thou 
forget  me.  March  on,  boys  !  ' 


SIR  EDMUND    STRIKES   HIS   LAST   BLOW         115 

A  successful  charge  by  Prince  Rupert  broke 
through  the  enemy  :  both  cavalry  and  infantry  gave 
way  before  him,  except  Lord  Brooke's  purple  coats 
and  Denzil  Hollis's  red  coats,  and  the  pursuit  lasted 
for  three  miles  across  the  open  fields.  Here,  how- 
ever,  it  ended  ignominiously  in  the  plunder  of  the 
baggage-waggons  which  had  been  left  unguarded.1 

Meantime  the  king's  troops,  unsupported  by 
cavalry,  had  been  unable  to  stand  against  the  on- 
slaught of  Essex,  and  before  Prince  Rupert  came 
back  from  the  pursuit  the  tide  of  battle  had  turned  ; 
the  king's  guards  were  broken,  and,  had  the  advan- 
tage been  followed  up,  Charles  himself  would  have 
been  in  great  danger.  The  struggle  round  the 
standard  itself  was  furious  '  in  the  extream.'  It  was 
evidently  not  the  one  that  had  required  twenty  men 
to  set  up  at  Nottingham,  for  we  are  told  by  old 
Lloyd  that  Sir  Edmund  '  adventured  with '  it  among 
the  enemy,  in  order  that  '  the  souldiers  might  be 
engaged  to  follow  him.  He  was  offered  his  life  by 
a  throng  of  his  enemies,  upon  condition  he  would 
deliver  the  standard  ;  he  answered  that  his  life  was 
his  own,  but  the  standard  was  his  and  their  sove- 
reign's, and  he  would  not  deliver  it  while  he  lived, 
and  he  hoped  it  would  be  rescued  .  .  .  when  he  was 
dead  ;  selling  it  and  his  life,  at  the  rate  of  sixteen 
gentlemen  which  fell  that  day  by  his  sword.'  The 

1  When  the  prince  reached  the  king's  side  on  his  return,  and 
found  all  in  confusion,  he  said  he  '  could  at  least  give  a  good  account 
of  the  enemy's  horse.'  '  Ay  by  God,  and  of  their  carts  too  !'  exclaimed 
a  cavalier. 

I  2 


116      VERNE Y   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

standard  was  taken,  and  round  its  staff  (says  the 
legend)  still  clung  the  hand  which  had  grasped  it, 
faithful  in  death.  On  one  of  the  fingers  was  the  ring 
given  to  Sir  Edmund  by  the  king,  and  containing  his 
miniature.  For  two  hundred  years  his  disconsolate 
ghost  wandered  about  the  old  house  at  Claydon 
searching  for  his  hand  ;  the  ring  still  exists  and  the 
worm-eaten  effigy  of  Sir  Edmund's  hand — and  if  any 
should  dispute  the  truth  of  the  story,  are  they  not 
to  be  seen  at  Claydon  to  this  very  day  ? 

But  to  return  to  the  battlefield.  The  royal  army 
was  hard  pressed,  the  short  evening  was  closing  in  ; 
the  Parliament's  forces  had  suffered  a  good  deal,  Essex 
could  not  be  persuaded  to  advance  up  to  the  higher 
ground,  and  the  fighting  came  to  an  end,  neither 
party  having  gained  any  decisive  advantage.  The 
roads  were  crowded  with  the  dead  and  wounded  who 
had  fallen  on  both  sides  ;  five  thousand  men,  indeed, 
lay  dead  on  the  field,  the  proportion  belonging  to  each 
party  'being  very  stiffly  debated.'  The  king  cer- 
tainly lost  more  persons  of  distinction.  Lord  Lindsey 
was  taken  up  mortally  wounded,  and  died  before  he 
could  be  carried  to  Warwick,  where  his  son  was  al- 
ready a  prisoner  ;  Lord  Stewart,  Sir  Edmund  V erney, 
and  Lord  Aubigny  were  dead.  The  battle  was,  in 
fact,  a  drawn  one,  but  it  was  clear  that  the  parlia- 
mentary troopers  could  not  stand  against  the  cavaliers. 
The  victory  was  claimed  by  both  sides,  but  Cromwell 
(says  Carlyle)  told  his  cousin  Hampden  that  they 
would  never  get  on  '  with  a  set  of  poor  tapsters 


SIR  EDMUND   STRIKES  HIS  LAST  BLOW         117 

and  town  apprentice  people  fighting  against  men  of 
honour.'  To  cope  with  men  of  honour  they  must 
have  men  of  religion.  '  Mr.  Hampden  answered  me 
it  was  a  good  notion  if  it  could  be  executed,'  which 
was  the  first  dawning  in  the  general's  mind  of  the 
conception  of  that  army  of  Ironsides  which  so  soon 
carried  all  before  them. 

'  A  relation  of  the  Battel  printed  by  his  Majesty's 
command '  says  :  '  If  we  had  had  light  enough  to  have 
given  one  charge  more,  we  had  totally  routed  all  their 
army,  whereupon  both  armies  retreated,  ours  in  such 
order,  that  we  not  only  brought  off  our  own  cannon 
but  4  of  the  Rebells.  ...  So  both  armies  facing  one 
another  all  day  [Monday]  retired  at  night  to  their 
former  quarters.  .  .  .  For  the  slain  on  both  sides 
the  number  is  uncertain  ;  yet  it  is  most  certain  that 
we  killed  five  for  one.' 

On  the  other  hand  the  '  relation  communicated 
to  the  Speaker  and  Commons '  gives  '  a  narration  of 
a  blessed  victory  which  God  hath  given  us  upon  the 
army  of  the  Cavaliers  and  of  those  Evil  Persons,  who 
upon  Sunday  23  of  this  Instant  engaged  his  Majesty 
in  a  dangerous  and  bloody  Fight  against  his  faithful 
subjects.'  The  fiction  was  still  kept  up  that  they 
were  not  fighting  against  the  king,  but  against  his 
evil  counsellors.  They  confess  that  '  our  Battalia  at 
the  very  first  wholly  disbanded  and  ran  away  without 
ever  striking  stroke.'  But  then  comes  an  account  of 
the  good  service  done  by  the  rear  and  the  right  wing 
of  the  horse,  and  that  they  '  stood  all  that  night  upon 


118      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE    CIVIL    WAR 

the  place  where  the  enemy  before  the  fight  had  drawn 
up  into  Battalia.' 

This  official  account  mentions  amongst  special 
mercies  of  the  day  that,  '  Sir  Edmund  Verney  who 
carried  the  King's  Standard  was  slain  by  a  gentleman 
of  the  Lord  General's  Troop  of  Horse,  who  did  much 
other  good  Service  that  Day,  and  the  Standard  taken  ; 
which  was  afterwards  by  the  Lord  General  himself 
delivered  unto  his  Secretary,  Mr.  Chambers,  with  an 
intention  to  send  it  back  the  next  day  unto  his 
Majesty  ;  but  the  Secretary,  after  he  had  carried  it 
long  in  his  hand,  suffered  it  to  be  taken  away  by  some 
of  our  Troopers,  and  as  yet  we  cannot  learn  where  it 
is?  We  are,  however,  better  informed  ;  Mr.  Gar- 
diner l  is  able  to  tell  us  how  Captain  Smith,  a  Catholic 
officer  of  the  King's  Life  Guards,  disguising  himself 
with  an  orange  scarf  which  he  picked  up  on  the  field, 
slipped  through  the  enemy's  ranks,  told  Essex's  sec- 
retary that  so  great  a  prize  was  not  fitly  bestowed  in 
the  hands  of  a  penman,  and  snatched  it  from  him. 
He  made  his  way  back  and  triumphantly  laid  the 
recovered  standard  at  the  feet  of  the  king,  who 
rewarded  him  with  hearty  thanks  and  knighted  him 
on  the  spot. 

Sir  Edward  Sydenham's  account,  written  from 
'  Ano  on  the  hill,'  close  by,  on  Oct.  27,  was  sent  by 
hand  to  Ralph.  '  For  all  our  great  vycktorie  I  have 
had  the  greatest  loss  by  the  death  of  your  nobell 
father  that  ever  anie  freind  did,  which  next  to  my 

1  Great  Civil  War,  vol.  i.  57. 


SIE  EDMUND   STRIKES   HIS   LAST   BLOW 

wyfe  and  Master  was  the  greatest  misfortune  that  by 
death  could  have  falen  to  me  :  he  himselfe  killed  two 
with  his  owne  hands,  whereof  one  of  them  had  killed 
poore  Jason,  and  brocke  the  poynt  of  his  standard  at 
push  of  pike  before  he  fell,  which  was  the  last  acount 
I  could  receave  of  anie  of  our  owne  syde  of  him.  The 
next  day  the  kinge  sent  a  harald  to  offer  mercie  to 
all  that  would  laye  downe  armes,  and  to  enquire  for 
my  Lord  of  Lynsee,  my  Lo  Wyllowby  and  him  ; 
he  brought  word  that  my  Lo  Lynsee  was  hurt,  your 
father  dead,  and  my  Lo  Wyllowby  only  prysoner  ; 
he  would  nither  put  on  armes  or  buff  cote  the  day 
of  battell,  the  reason  I  know  not  ;  the  battell  was 
bloody  on  your  syde,  for  your  hoorss  rann  awaye  at 
the  first  charge,  and  our  men  had  the  execution  of 
them  for  three  miles  ;  it  began  at  3  a  clock  and  ended 
at  syx.  The  kinge  is  a  man  of  the  least  feare  and  the 
greatest  mercie  and  resolution  that  ever  I  saw,  and 
had  he  not  bin  in  the  fylde,  we  might  have  suffered. 
My  Lord  of  Essex  is  retired  in  great  disorder  to 
Warwick,  for  the  next  morninge  he  suffi  red  his  connon 
to  be  taken  away  within  muskett  shott  of  his  armie, 
and  never  offired  to  hindir  them  ;  it  is  sayd  ther  was 
killed  and  run  away  since,  eaygtt  thowsand  of  his 
armie.  This  day  the  kinge  tooke  in  bamberie  ;  our 
armie  dayly  increases  ;  god  in  mercie  send  us  peace, 
and  although  your  loss  be  as  great  as  a  sonn  can  loose 
in  a  father,  yitt  god's  chyldren  must  beare  with 
patience  what  afflycktion  soever  he  shall  please  to  laye 
upon  them.  You  have  a  great  try  all,  god  in  mercie 


VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

give  you  grace  to  make  a  santified  use  of  this  great 
afflyction,  and  to  undergoe  this  great  burden  with 
patience.  My  humbell  sarvise  to  your  sad  wyfe. 
God  of  his  infinite  mercie  cumfort  you  bothe  which 
shall  be  the  prayers  of  your  freind  and  sarvant  who 
shall  ever  be  reddie  to  performe  anie  sarvise  in  the 
power  of  your  Ed  :  Sidenham.  Ther  is  delivered  to 
me  fyftie  two  cornetts  and  colors  which  was  taken  ; 
I  beleeve  ther  be  manie  more.' 

Poor  Ralph,  heartbroken  for  the  loss  of  his  father, 
wrote  to  Lady  Sussex  from  Covent  Garden: '  Maddam, 
I  never  lov'd  to  bee  the  messenger  of  ill  newes  :  ther- 
fore  I  forbore  to  send  you  this1 ;  which  is  the  saddest 
and  deepest  affliction  that  ever  befell  any  poore  dis- 
tressed man  ;  I  will  not  add  to  yourgreife  by  relating 
my  owne  deplorable  condition,  neither  can  my  pen  ex- 
presse  the  meseries  I  am  in  ;  God's  will  bee  donn,  and 
give  mee  patience,  to  support  mee  in  this  extremity, 
there  is  noe  absolute  certainty  of  his  Death,  that  I 
can  yet  learne,  but  sure  tis  too  true.  I  have  sent  3 
messengers  to  both  armies  to  bie  informed,  on  Sat- 
terday  I  expect  on  of  them  Back,  in  the  meanetime  I 
am  forced  to  make  dilligent  enquiries  after  that  which 
(if  it  proove  true)  will  make  mee  most  unhappy.  I 
know  you  are  fully  sensible  of  my  misfortune,  ther- 
fore  I  will  say  noe  more,  but  humbly  begg  of  you  for 
his  sake  to  continue  mee  in  your  favour,  and  receive 
mee  into  your  protection,  for  if  hee  is  gon,  I  have  noe 
freind  in  this  world  but  your  selfe  [his  grief  makes 
him  more  than  ever  long-winded]  ;  therfore  I  must 


SIR  EDMUXD   STRIKES   HIS   LAST   BLOAV         121 

once  more  beeseech  your  Ladyshipp  ever  for  his  sake 
that  served  you  soe  faithfully,  and  valued  and  honord 
you  soe  farr  above  all  other  creatures,  that  you  will 
bee  pleasd  to  preserve  mee  in  your  good  oppinion  and 
esteem  me  as  I  am  Maddam  your  most  faithful,  though 
most  sorrowfull  most  afflicted  and  most  unfortunate 
servant  R.  V. 

'  I  will  obay  you  in  waiting  uppon  you,  before 
you  goe  downe,  soe  I  might  see  noe  other  creature 
but  your  selfe.' 

Lady  Sussex  writes  to  him  the  same  day,  having 
heard  the  news  independently  : 

'  The  most  heavy  nues  of  your  worthy  good 
father's  death  is  come  to  mee,  for  which  i  have  the 
sadist  hart  and  depest  wondede  sole  that  ever  cretuer 
hade ;  he  beinge  i  confes  to  you  the  greatist  com- 
fort of  my  life  ;  i  pray  god  fitt  me  for  ane  other  ; 
for  i  am  suer  i  shall  never  have  more  ioy  in  this. 
Your  lose,  i  am  very  sensable  is  infmat  to  :  i  pray 
god  give  us  both  pasynce.  My  stay  will  bee  hear  [at 
Chelsea]  till  tusday  i  thinke  ;  and  though  it  be  an  un- 
fitt  requist  att  this  time,  yet  let  me  bege  the  favour 
to  see  you  before  i  goo  home,  for  you  are  all  the 
ioy  i  have  left  mee  now  ;  i  am  in  so  missirable  a  con- 
disyon  that  i  cannot  expres  my  thoughts  :  niy  eyes 
are  so  full  that  i  cannot  say  no  more  ;  but  that  i  am 
your  most  sorifull  and  most  afflictiede  frinde  Elenor 
Sussex.' 

Poor  Ralph's  extreme  grief  for  the  father  whom 
he  loved  so  tenderly  was  evidently  much  increased 


122      VERNE Y   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

by  the  thought  of  the  partial  estrangement  whicli 
had  come  betvreen  them  for  the  past  three  months. 

His  next  letter  to  Lady  Sussex,  a  few  days  later, 
gives  an  account  of  his  efforts  to  get  information 
about  his  father's  fate. 

'  Maddam,  Last  night  I  had  a  servant  from  my 
Lord  of  Essex  Army,  that  tells  mee  there  is  noe 
possibility  of  finding  my  Deare  father's  Body,  for 
my  Lord  Generall,  my  Lord  Brooke,  my  Lord  Grey, 
Sr  Jam  Luke  and  twenty  others  of  my  acquaintance 
assured  him  hee  was  never  taken  prisiner,  neither 
were  any  of  them  ever  possessed  of  his  Body  ;  but 
that  hee  was  slaine  by  an  ordinary  Trooper.  Upon 
this  my  man  went  to  all  the  ministers  of  severall 
parishes,  that  buried  the  dead  that  were  slaine  in 
the  battle,  and  none  of  them  can  give  him  any 
information  of  the  body.  One  of  them  told  him  my 
Lord  Aubigney  was  like  to  have  been  buried  in  the 
feilds,  but  that  on  came  by  chance  that  knew  him 
and  tooke  him  into  a  church,  and  there  laid  him  in 
the  ground  without  soe  much  as  a  sheete  about  him, 
and  soe  divers  others  of  good  quallity  were  buried  : 
the  ministers  kept  Tallies  of  all  that  were  buried, 
and  they  amount  to  neare  4,000.  Maddam  you  see 
I  am  every  way  unhappy.  I  beeseech  you  afford  mee 
your  praires  and  bee  pleasd  (though  I  am  now  per- 
plexed with  a  multitude  of  misfortunes)  to  account 
mee  as  I  have  ever  endeavourd  to  expresse  myselfe 
your  Ladishipps  most  faithfull  servant  to  command. 

'  On  Wednesday  I  intend  to  waite  uppon  you,  if 


SIR   EDMUND   STRIKES   HIS   LAST   BLOW         123 

you  please  to  let  mee  know  about  what  time  of  the 
day  I  may  most  conveniently  doe  it.' 

Lady  Sussex  replies  the  same  day  : 

'  My  soro  is  beyonde  all  that  can  bee  sade ;  it  tis 
not  possibly  to  bee  greter  then  it  tis ;  but  truly  it 
trubles  ine  much  that  his  body  was  beriede  amonst 
the  multitude  ;  i  know  itt  coulde  not  have  addede 
anythinge  to  him,  only  have  sattisfiede  his  frmdes 
to  have  hade  a  cristan  beriall ;  but  itt  semes  in 
ware  ther  is  no  differince  made.  God's  will  most 
bee  don  in  all  things,  i  hope  he  is  bleside  and 
happy.  Belive  me  i  acount  my  gretis  happines  i  have 
left  me  the  aseurance  of  your  frinship,  and  for  ever 
shall  you  bee  most  dear  to  me.  On  Wensday  in  the 
aftir  none  i  shall  bee  most  happy  to  see  you  ;  if  it 
may  bee  without  your  truble  ;  for  non  is  so  much 
your  affecynat  true  frinde  as  Elenor  Sussex.' 

A  little  later,  after  she  had  gone  to  the  countryr 
she  writes  about  some  mourning  for  Sir  Edmund, 
;  for  the  blakes  though  you  are  so  good  to  offer  them 
i  belive  you  make  use  of  them  yourselves,  and  then  i 
woulde  by  no  menes  have  them,  for  i  see  nobody  hear.' 
Sir  Edmund's  death  seems  to  have  produced  a 
great  sensation  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Edgehill. 
A  curious  old  pamphlet  published  three  months  after 
the  battle,  relates  that  '  portentious  apparitions  of  two 
jarring  and  contrary  armies  where  the  battell  was 
strucken,  were  seen  at  Edge  Hill,  where  are  still  many 
unburied  karkasses,  at  between  twelve  and  one  of  the 
clock  in  the  morning.  As  was  certified  by  Persons 


124      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

of  Qualitie.  These  infernal  souldiers  appeared  on 
Christmas  night,  and  again  on  two  Saturdays  after, 
bearing  the  King's  and  Parliament's  colours.  Pell 
mell  to  it  they  went,  where  the  corporeall  armies 
had  shed  so  much  blood,  the  clattering  of  armes,  noyse 
of  Cannons,  cries  of  soldiers,  sounds  of  petronels,  and 
the  alarum  was  struck  up,  creating  great  terrour 
and  amazement.  The  rumour  whereof  comming  to 
his  Majestic  at  Oxford,  he  sent  Colonel  Kirke  and 
5  other  gentlemen  of  Credit,  who  all  saw  the  fore- 
mentioned  prodigies,  distinctly  knowing  divers  of 
the  apparitions  and  incorporeall  substances  by  their 
faces,  as  that  of  Sir  Edmund  Varney  [the  only  one, 
however,  named]  and  others,  that  were  there  slaine.' 

'  A  sign  of  God's  wrath,  and  a  proof  of  the  Divills 
dispersed  in  the  empty  regions  of  the  Ayre,'  is  all 
the  explanation  vouchsafed  for  the  '  prodigy '  thus 
testified  to  by  '  gentlemen  of  credit.' 

Sir  Edmund's  ghost  haunted  not  only  the  battle- 
field where  he  fell,  and  the  home  where  he  dwelt, 
but  also  the  spinneys  [i.e.  plantations]  near  Claydon  ; 
draining  and  repairs,  however,  are  sadly  inimical  to 
spirits,  and  it  is  to  be  feared  that  he  has  now  altogether 
passed  away  from  this  earth  to  which  he  so  long  clung. 

He  was  succeeded  in  the  office  of  Knight  Marshal 
by  Sir  Edward  Sydenham,  who  writes  to  Ralph  to 
request  '  that  I  maye  have  your  estate  bothe  of  the 
prysson  [the  Marshalsea]  and  goods  ther  upon  such 
teannes  as  you  will  parte  with  them  to  another.' 

Apparently  he  was   well    satisfied  with   Ralph's 


SIR   EDMUND   STRIKES   HIS   LAST   BLOW         125- 

answer,  for  Lady  Anne  Sydenhani  writing  afterwards 
in  his  stead,  says  that  '  he  houes  you  all  that  will 
ever  ly  in  his  power,  and  more  thin  i  am  shuer  he 
shall  ever  be  so  happy  as  to  paye  for  the  hobble- 
gashons  that  he  has  had  to  your  selef.  .  .  .  You 
woled  never  havef  chised  out  me  to  havef  heped  your 
favors  on,  had  you  not  a  ben  best  plesed  with  doing 
corteses  to  thos  that  coled  gevef  no  retorn.' 

In  the  '  Life  of  Clarendon '  there  is  a  very  graphic 
account  of  a  conversation  between  him  and  Sir 
Edmund  :  '  Mr.  Hyde  was  wont  often  to  relate  a 
passage  in  that  melancholick  Time,  when  the  Standard 
was  set  up  at  Nottingham,  with  which  he  was  much 
affected.  Sir  Edmund  Varney  Knight  Marshal,  who 
was  mentioned  before  as  Standard  Bearer,  with  whom 
he  had  great  Familiarity,  who  was  a  Man  of  great 
Courage  and  generally  beloved,  came  one  day  to  him 
and  told  him,  "  He  was  very  glad  to  see  him,  in  so 
universal  a  damp  under  which  the  spirits  of  most 
men  were  oppressed,  retain  still  his  natural  cheer- 
fulness and  vivacity  ;  that  he  knew  that  the  condition 
of  the  King  and  the  power  of  the  Parliament  was  not 
better  known  to  any  man  than  to  him  (Clarendon)  ; 
and  therefore  he  hoped  that  he  was  able  to  administer 
some  comfort  to  his  friends,  that  might  raise  their 
spirits  as  it  supported  his  own."  He  answered  "  that 
he  was  in  truth  beholden  to  his  constitution,  which 
did  not  incline  him  to  despair  ;  otherwise  that  he 
had  no  pleasant  prospect  before  him,  but  thought  as 
ill  of  affairs  as  most  men  did  ;  that  the  other  was  as 


126      VERNE Y  FAMILY    DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

far  from  being  melancholick  as  he,  and  was  known  to 
be  a  man  of  great  courage  (as  indeed  he  was  of  a  very 
cheerful  and  a  generous  nature,  and  confessedly  valiant), 
and  that  they  could  not  do  the  King  better  service, 
than  by  making  it  their  business  to  raise  the  dejected 
minds  of  men,  and  root  out  those  apprehensions  which 
,  .  .  could  do  no  good,  and  did  really  much  mischief." 
Sir  Edmund  replied  smiling,  "I  will  willingly  join 
with  you  the  best  I  can,  but  I  shall  act  it  very 
scurvily.  My  condition,"  said  he,  "  is  much  worse 
than  yours,  and  different,  I  believe,  from  any  other 
man's,  and  will  very  well  justify  the  melancholick 
that  I  confess  to  you  possesses  me.  You  have  satis- 
faction in  your  conscience  that  you  are  in  the  right ; 
that  the  King  ought  not  to  grant  what  is  required  of 
him  ;  and  so  you  do  your  duty  and  your  business 
together.  But  for  my  part  I  do  not  like  the  quarrel, 
and  do  heartily  wish  that  the  King  would  yield  and 
consent  to  what  they  desire  ;  so  that  my  conscience 
is  only  concerned  in  honour  and  gratitude  to  follow 
my  master.  I  have  eaten  his  bread  and  served  him 
near  thirty  years,  and  will  not  do  so  base  a  thing  as 
to  forsake  him  ;  and  choose  rather  to  lose  my  Life 
(which  I  am  sure  I  shall  do)  to  preserve  and  defend 
those  things,  which  are  against  my  conscience  to  pre- 
serve and  defend.  For  I  will  deal  freely  with  you, 
I  have  no  reverence  for  the  Bishops,  for  whom  this 
Quarrel  subsists."  It  was  not  a  time  to  dispute,  and 
his  affection  to  the  Church  had  never  been  suspected. 
He  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and  was  killed  at  the 


SIR  EDMUND   STRIKES   HIS    LAST   BLOW         127 

battle  of  Edgehill  within  two  months  after  this  dis- 
course. And  if  those  who  had  the  same  and  greater 
obligations,  had  observed  the  same  rules  of  gratitude 
and  generosity,  whatever  their  other  affections  had 
been,  that  battle  had  never  been  fought,  nor  any  of 
that  mischief  been  brought  to  pass,  that  succeeded  it.' 
Lloyd's  testimony  to  his  high  and  noble  character 
is  equally  emphatic  :  ' .  .  .  One  of  the  strictness  and 
piety  of  a  Puritan,  of  the  charity  of  a  Papist,  of  the 
civility  of  an  Englishman  ;  whose  family  the  King 
his  Master  would  say,  "  was  the  model  he  would  pro- 
pose to  the  Gentlemen,"  whose  carriage  was  such  that 
he  was  called  "  the  only  courtier  that  was  not  com- 
plained of." 

Reliquiae  Edmundi  Verney, 

Vere  militis l  &  Banneretti 

Qui  Deum  timendo  nisit  (nihil  ?)  timere  didicit, 

Nihil  non  Ansus  nisi  quod  omnes 

audent ;  peccare. 
O  In  gloriam  fortitudinem  quse  pati  tantum  potuit  ! 

1  Ultimus  Angliee  Bannerettus. 


128      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING    THE    CIVIL    WAR 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CONCERNING    EDMUND,    THE   YOUNG    CAVALIER. 

Who  doom'd  to  go  in  company  with  pain, 

And  fear,  and  bloodshed,  miserable  train  ! 

Turns  his  necessity  to  glorious  gain  .  .  . 

Or  if  an  unexpected  call  succeed, 

Come  when  it  will,  is  equal  to  the  need  ; 

He  who,  though  thus  endued  as  with  a  sense 

And  faculty  for  storm  and  turbulence, 

Is  yet  a  soul  whose  master  bias  leans 

To  homefelt  pleasures  and  to  gentle  scenes. 

WORDSWORTH. 

IT  was  not  till  July  '41  that  Edmund  heard  of  the 
death  of  his  mother  from  his  sister-in-law,  Lady 
Verney.  He  was  with  the  army  at  York,  and  replies 
from  thence  :  '  Tis  most  true  that  the  losse  of  our 
mother  is  infinite,  but  I'll  not  torture  you  with 
expressing  it  more  largely.'  She  had  died  three 
months  before,  but  the  mourning  clothes  sent  to 
him  by  Ralph  had  not  even  then  arrived. 

He  complains  of  the  large  arrears  still  due  to  the 
army  :  '  You  lawmakers  are  lawlesse  yourselves,  and 
therefore  I  have  armed  myself  with  my  best  armoure 
of  proof,  exceeding  much  patience.' 

By  September  the  army  was  disbanded,  or 
'  cashiered,'  as  he  phrases  it,  and  he  spent  some  time 


CONCERNING  EDMUND,  THE  YOUNG  CAVALIER   129 

at  Claydon  with  his  sisters,  whence  he  writes  playful 
complaints  to  Ralph  of  their  teasing.  '  I  never  yet 
saw  such  double  diligence  used  in  the  tormenting  a 
poore  man.  ...  I  cannot  live  long  if  these  thunder- 
claps continue.'  But  he  is  evidently  extremely  fond 
of  them,  writing  tenderly  of  Gary,  who  has  been  ill. 
but  he  hopes  will  soon  be  well,  '  for  truely  I  am 
much  troubled  to  see  her  ass  she  is  ;  shee  desires  to 
have  me  much  with  her.'  Pen,  an  elder  sister,  writes 
of  him  as  '  My  dearest  combeannion  the  casseir 
[cashiered]  Captaine.'  His  cousin  Doll  Leeke  was 
also  very  fond  of  him,  and  writes  to  Lady  Yerney  : 
'  I  find  by  my  cosen  Mun  that  he  is  gon  ;  he  writs 
me  word  that  he  hath  left  with  you  a  ring  of  his  hare. 
Beshrew  him  for  his  conseat,  it  shews  so  like  a  legisi 
that  it  has  put  a  sadness  into  me  ;  it  is  a  fault  to  be 
superstisous,  and  therfore  if  I  can  I  will  forget  it.' 

His  pay  was  still  in  arrear,  and  he  tells  Ralph 
'  that  it  must  be  his  main  business  to  provide  uss 
our  money,  otherwise  you  will  have  many  of  better 
quality  follow  the  highway  law  than  yet  do  ;  I 
cannot  think  it  robbery  to  arrest  a  parliament  man, 
being  you  have  all  engaged  your  words  to  us.'  The 
household,  apparently,  is  going  up  to  London,  and 
he  shows  his  kindness  by  asking  Ralph  to  urge  his 
father  to  allow  horses  for  the  maids  to  ride  up  there, 
instead  of  going  by  the  carrier,  '  for  the  very  name  of 
a  waofsron  is  soe  offensive  to  them.'  He  entreats  his 

oo 

father  to  get  him  a  company  in  the  army  about  to  be 
sent  to  Ireland,  but  in  the  meantime  is  anxious  to 

VOL.  II.  K 


130      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE    CIVIL    WAR 

secure  the  ordering  of  a  suit  of  clothes  from  his 
father's  tailor,  with  gold  and  silver  braid,  '  chiefly  fitt 
for  London.' 

In  November  the  rising  in  Ireland,  and  the 
massacres  which  were  taking  place  in  all  directions, 
had  filled  everyone  with  horror,  and  troops  were 
hurried  off.  Edmund  received  his  commission  as 
captain,  and  rode  in  great  haste  with  his  father's 
horses  to  West  Chester,  where  they  were  to  embark. 

'  I  have  now  been  here  this  nine  days,'  he  writes, 
'  sooner  by  four  than  the  first  that  came  ;  five  of  our 
companions  have  not  yet  come  up.  ...  I  am  in 
infinite  haste,  but  I  will  write  more  largely  by 
Hinton,  by  whom  I  will  send  [back]  my  horses  next 
Monday/  Grooms  and  coachmen  of  the  same  name 
still  continue  at  Claydon,  and  have  gone  on  from 
father  to  son,  trusty  and  trusted,  knowing  their  work 
well  and  doing  it. 

The  next  letter  says,  '  Now  we  are  lyke  to  come 
to  an  active  service.  I  heare  Kit  Roper,  with  4  more 
captaines  and  theire  companyes,  are  cutte  of  to  14 
men  ass  they  were  attempting  to  relieve  Tredan.  My 
collonell's  regiment  is  much  desired,  and  if  wee  have 
a  fayre  winde  wee  shall  be  there  within  4  or  5  dayes. 
Here  lyes  my  lord  Parsons  his  sonne,  who  hath  very 
good  intelligence,  and  his  friends  write  to  him  they 
are  in  a  great  doubt  Dublin  will  be  beseiged  before 
wee  can  get  over,  for  the  rebells,  hearing  of  our  neare 
approach,  resolve  to  attempt  ass  high  ass  they  can 
possibly  before  our  arrivall.  Never  was  more  bar- 


CONCERNING  EDMUND,  THE  YOUNG  CAVALIER   131 

barousness  practised  amongst  the  Heathen  then  they 
use  now  amongst  men  of  very  good  quality.  I  hope 
wee  shall  be  a  good  meanes  to  repell  them,  but  wee 
are  but  an  handfull,  and  I  believe  you  will  be  forced 
(notwithstanding  the  time  of  yeare)  to  send  10  times 
our  number  suddenly  over.  All  our  care  here  is 
how  we  shall  get  next  month's  pay.  ...  I  pray 
have  a  mayne  care  of  that  both  now  and  here- 
after, and  then  wee  will  fight  lustily  for  you,  but 
otherwise,  noe  longer  Pype  noe  longer  dance.'  The 
'  scarlet  cloake  and  shamoy  doublet  with  the  silver 
and  gold  edging '  have  not  arrived  ;  they  may  be 
paid  for  out  of  the  money  due  to  him,  and  be  sent 
in  the  '  Lord  Leivetenant's  carryages.' 

A  week  later  the  troops  were  still  at  West  Chester 
waiting  for  a  fair  wind.  He  writes  to  Mary  :  '  The 
life  that  I  bide  on  this  syde  the  sea  is  very  trouble- 
some, and  is  never  sweetened  by  any  delight,  but 
only  when  I  am  writing  to  you ;  yet  there  is. 
one  thing  more  which  would  adde  much  to  my 
happines,  and  that  is  ...  your  writing  to  me.  .  .  . 
I  had  one  tricke  which  now  I'll  leve.  I  was  used 
never  to  write  under  3  or  4  letters  at  a  time,  and 
when  I  had  not  time  to  write  soe  many  then  I  was 
silent  to  all ;  but  now  .  .  because  .  .  I  shall  be  in  a 
place  whence  newes  will  be  often  desired,  sometimes 
one  shall  have  it  and  sometimes  another,  and  soe  I 
hope  to  please  all,  which  is  a  thing  I  much  desire.' 

At  the  request  of  his  colonel  he  asked  Ralph  to 
get  a  motion  made  in  the  House  that  the  arrears- 

K  2 


132      VERNE Y   FAMILY  DURING  THE    CIVIL   WAR 

should  be  paid  to  the  soldiers,  but  added,  '  I  believe 
it  is  a  buisnes  you  care  not  to  meddle  with,  and  for 
my  owne  part  I  will  not  at  all  press  you  to  it ;  he 
desired  me  to  write  to  you,  and  soe  I  leave  you  to 
doe  ass  you  shall  think  good.  I  am  now  pretty  well 
of  my  hurt  in  my  shoulder.  Here  is  none  but 
lamentable  news  from  Ireland,  and  I  pray  God  send 
us  suddenly  over  ass  many  more  to  follow  us  ;  but 
the  winde  is  so  inconstant  that  I  desire  you  would 
please  to  write  to  me  [here]  by  the  next  post.' 

At  Christmas  he  writes  that  the  troops  are  still 
wind-bound,  but  in  January  '42  he  has  got  to 
Dublin,  which  was  holding  out  against  the  rebels, 
though  the  whole  country  was  in  revolt  except  some 
of  the  fortified  towns  with  •  English  garrisons,  and 
part  of  Connaught,  where  Lord  Clanricarde  main- 
tained order  to  some  extent. 

Edmund  complains  of  the  treatment  of  the  army 
by  the  treasurer,  who  stopped  sixpence  in  the  pound 
out  of  their  pay,  for  which  he  said  he  had  a  patent 
*  under  the  broad  seale.'  The  matter  was  now  re- 
ferred to  Parliament,  and  Edmund  asks  Ralph  to 
help  them.  '  Had  you  sent  10,000  men  6  or  8  weekes 
since  I  dare  say  the  rebells  had  beene  neare  repelled 
by  this,  and  now,  for  ought  I  know,  it  may  last  you 
many  a  yeare,  and  the  longer  you  stay,  the  more 
heade  they  will  get ;  but  I  hope  your  delayes  is  out 
of  your  goodness  to  uss,  least  wee  should  suddenly 
want  employment  againe,  and  for  that  I  will  excuse 
you/  In  February  he  wrote  again  of  the  distress  in 


CONCERNING   EDMUND,   THE   YOUNG   CAVALIER      133 

the  army  for  want  of  money,  '  he  is  held  a  rich  man 
that  can  maintaine  himself.'  He  asks  for  a  tent 
(which  was  afterwards  bought  by  Ralph  for  7/.,  and 
sent  over  to  him)  and  an  '  able  pacing  gelding.' 
Concerning  an  engagement  at  Swords,  of  which  Ralph 
had  been  misinformed,  he  says,  ''  I  was  there  my- 
selfe.  .  .  .  You  mention  13  to  be  lost  besydes  Sir 
Lorenzoe  Gary,  the  rebbels  to  be  treble  our  number, 
and  alsoe  intrenchd,  whereas  we  lost  but  four  in  all, 
and  were  double  the  enemy  ;  neither  had  any  other 
intrenchment  than  a  small  work,  more  like  a  garden 
ditch  than  a  trench  ;  .  .  .  I  believe  they  lost  100 
men.  Ireland  is  full  of  castles,  and  truly  strong  ones, 
and  thither  the  rebbells  fly,  not  daring  to  give  us  a 
meeting,  although  treble  our  number.  I  will  not 
say  but  that  the  want  of  armes  and  ammunition  may 
be  much  the  cause  of  it,  but  truly  I  doe  believe  them 
to  be  of  a  very  cowardly  nature.  ...  I  pray  lett  uss 
know  when  you  intend  to  send  uss  money,  or  whither 
ye  intend  to  send  any,  that  according  to  your  reso- 
lutions wee  may  serve  you  ;  this  is  an  age  when  you 
have  most  neede  of  uss,  and  this  time  you  choose 
most  to  abuse  us.  I'll  assure  you  wee  scarce  thinke 
it  a  forfeite  of  our  honours  even  att  this  time  to  quitt 
your  service,  rather  than  to  continue  it  on  these 
conditions.  I  admire  how  you  thinke  wee  live  ;  wee 
have  bellyes  to  feede  and  backs  to  cloath  ass  well  ass 
you ;  wee  want  yet  the  hardynes  to  goe  naked, 
neither  have  wee  been  bredd,  lyke  camelions,  to  live 
on  ayre.  There  is  scarce  a  captaine  in  the  army 


134      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

but  what  to  his  souldyers  and  his  owne  necessary 
expenses  he  is  £40  worse  then  he  is  worth  ;  and 
believe  me,  Brother,  that  which  is  worse  then  all 
this  is,  that  the  army  cannot  subsist  without  it  ; 
tis  not  here  ass  it  was  in  Yorkshire  ;  here  the  in- 
habitants are  neither  willing  nor  able  to  lend,  and 
it  is  sport  to  them  to  see  uss  undon.  Our  souldiers 
have  lived  upon  nothing  this  month  but  salt  beefe 
and  herrings,  which  is  soe  unusual  to  our  men  that 
came  last  out  of  England,  that  of  our  2,500  men, 
I  believe  we  have  500  sicke  ;  then  judge  what  will 
be  the  event  if  money  come  not  speedily.  I  yet 
heare  nothing  of  my  doublet  and  cloake,  and  now  is 
the  time  when  I  should  have  most  use  of  it.  One  of 
my  sisters  has  a  stuffe  sute,  laced  with  black  lace, 
which  I  made  me  in  the  north,  and  there  is  a  taby 
sute  which  I  never  yet  saw,  though  it  hath  beene 
made  for  me  this  2  yeare.  I  pray  let  them  be  sent  ass 
soone  ass  you  can  for  summer  comes  on  a  pace.' 

There  is  a  great  contrast  between  the  cool  way  in 
which  he  here  spoke  of  leaving  the  service  of  the 
Parliament,  and  the  intense  devotion  with  which  he 
afterwards  wrote  of  fighting  for  the  king,  after  the 
raising  of  the  standard  at  Nottingham. 

There  was  a  proposal  of  paying  the  soldiers  with 
land  in  Ireland,  at  the  same  time  charging  them  a 
price  for  it,  and  Edmund  protested  against  the  unfair- 
ness  '  of  our  paying  both  in  money  and  the  hazard  of 
our  lives.  .  .  .  Wee,  the  last  Monday  stormed 
the  castle  of  Carrigmaine  and  took  it  in,  where  the 


CONCERNING   EDMUND,   THE   YOUNG    CAVALIER      135 

common  souldyer  (though  the  service  were  most 
deperate)  expressed  ass  much  courage  and  resolu- 
tion ass  could  be  expected  from  brave  commanders, 
and  why  should  not  these  men  receive  another  kind 
of  reward  then  theire  8e?.  per  diem  ?  .  .  .  .  Now 
sweete  brother  take  not  any  of  my  choller  for  your 
selling  us  lands  ass  meant  to  you,  for  I  cannot  but 
thinke  you  too  noble  to  be  of  that  opinion,  and  soe 
I  rest  yours  in  all  service  whatsoever.'  He  has  got 
a  couple  of  '  very  good  pilladge  nagges,'  so  he  no 
longer  requires  the  gelding. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  there  was  hardly  any 
commissariat,  that  the  pay  of  the  soldiers  and  officers 
was  months  in  arrear,  and  that  the  only  means  of 
living  was  by  putting  the  country  under  requisition. 
He  mentions  that  his  cousin,  Dick  Turville,  and  the 
troops  under  his  command  had  taken  a  castle  six 
miles  from  Dublin,  where  they  found  3001.  worth  of 
corn.  He  was  anxious  that  his  father  should  get  him 
a  troop  of  horse  because  '  the  country  is  yet  full,  and 
tis  the  horse  get  all  the  pilladge.'  The  war  in  the 
Low  Countries  had  set  a  frightful  standard  of  severity 
in  the  armies,  and  even  the  kind-hearted  Edmund, 
writing  from  Trim  in  June  '42,  thus  describes  the 
taking  a  castle  which  had  held  out  a  three  days'  siege : 
*  We  had  20  men  slaine  and  30  hurt  and  3  officers 
shot :  after  we  put  some  four  score  men  to  the  sword, 
but  like  valiant  knights  errant,  gave  quarter  and 
liberty  to  all  the  women.' 

In  July  he  had  the  command  of  Dathcoffy  Castle, 


136      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DUKING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

twelve  miles  from  Dublin,  and  had  gained  about  601. 
by  pillage,  which  paid  the  expenses  of  a  fever  in 
which  he  was  '  given  over  of  the  phisitions  for  a 
dead  man  for  almost  a  week.' 

Magdalen  Bruce,  writing  to  Ralph  from  Youghal, 
says  that  Edmund  was  behaving  very  gallantly  and 
gaining  much  love. 

In  September  he  returned  to  Dublin,  and  the 
news  reached  him  that  Ralph  had  openly  taken  the 
side  of  Parliament,  now  in  arms  against  the  king. 
He  was  much  distressed  and  wrote  sternly,  '  Brother, 
what  I  feared  is  proovd  too  true,  which  is  your  being 
against  the  king ;  give  me  leave  to  tell  you  in  my 
opinion  tis  most  unhandsomely  done,  and  it  greeves 
my  hearte  to  thinke  that  my  father  allready  and  I,  who 
soe  dearly  love  and  esteeme  you,  should  be  bound  in 
consequence  (because  in  duty  to  our  king)  to  be  your 
enemy.  I  heare  tis  a  greate  greife  to  my  father.  I  be- 
seech you  consider  that  majesty  is  sacred;  God  sayth, 
'  Touch  not  myne  anointed ' ;  it  troubled  Davyd  that 
he  cutt  but  the  lapp  of  Saul's  garment;  I  believe 
yee  will  all  say  yee  intend  not  to  hurt  the  king,  but 
can  any  of  yee  warrant  any  one  shott  to  say  it  shall 
not  endanger  his  very  person  ?  I  am  soe  much 
troubled  to  think  of  your  being  of  the  syde  you  are 
that  I  can  write  no  more,  only  I  shall  pray  for  peace 
with  all  my  hearte,  but  if  God  grant  not  that,  yet 
that  He  will  be  pleased  to  turne  your  hearte  that  you 
may  soe  expresse  your  duty  to  your  king  that  my 
father  may  still  have  cause  to  rejoice  in  you.' 


CONCERXINC4    EDMUXD,   THE   YOUNG    CAVALIER      137 

The  letter  arrived  in  all  the  trouble  of  Sir 
Edmund's  death  at  Edgehill  and  the  general  distress 
of  the  family.  Ralph  did  not  answer  it,  and  Edmund 
became  very  uneasy  lest  his  words  should  have  bred 
discord  between  them.  He  wrote  several  times,  he 
says  to  Ralph  on  February  24,  '43,  but  had  received 
no  answer.  '  I  believe  you  have  written  too,  and  that 
it  is  only  your  heats  one  way  and  myne  the  other 
that  have  occasioned  the  miscarryage  of  our  letters. 
I  beseech  you  let  not  our  unfortunate  silence  breede 
the  least  distrust  of  each  other's  affections,  although  I 
would  willingly  loose  my  right  hand  that  you  had 
gone  the  other  way,  yet  I  will  never  consent  that 
this  dispute  shall  make  a  quarrel!  between  us,  there 
be  too  many  to  fight  with  besides  ourselves.  I  pray 
God  grant  a  suddaine  and  a  firme  peace  that  we  may 
safely  meete  in  person  ass  well  ass  in  affection. 
Though  I  am  tooth  and  nayle  for  the  king's  cause, 
and  shall  endure  soe  to  the  death,  whatsoever  his 
fortune  be,  yet  sweete  brother  let  not  this  my  opinion 
(for  it  is  guyded  by  my  conscience),  nor  any  report 
which  you  can  heare  of  me,  cause  a  diffidence  of  my 
true  love  to  you.' 

Ralph  did  not  reply  till  April  21,  when  he  wrote  : 
;  Brother,  I  know  not  how  saifly  this  letter  may  come 
to  your  hands,  therefore  I  shall  only  tell  you  that  in 
October  I  received  your  letter  dated  September  14, 
which  was  soe  full  of  sharpnesse,  that  I  rather  chose 
to  forbeare  answering  it  (being  willing  to  avoyd  all 
matters  of  dispute),  then  retume  such  a  reply  (as 


138      VERNEY    FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

that  language  did  deserve)  to  a  brother  I  love  soe 
well.  I  have  now  received  another  from  you  in 
.another  straine  by  Mr.  Rogers,  for  which  I  thanke 
you,  and  let  me  intreate  you  to  stick  to  the  resolution 
you  have  taken  concerning  mee,  and  I  shall  promise 
to  doe  the  like  to  you.  I  will  send  you  noe  newes 
least  it  cause  this  letter  to  miscarry.  .  .  .  Your 
truly  affectionat  Brother  to  serve  you  R.  V.' 

The  distress  occasioned  by  the  tearing  asunder  of 
family  ties  in  hundreds  of  households  among  those 
who  loved  each  other  tenderly,  but  whose  consciences 
compelled  them  to  take  opposite  sides,  must,  as  in 
Edmund's  case,  have  been  greatly  aggravated  by  the 
long  delay  in  delivering  letters.  Edmund  once  says 
he  has  received  nothing  from  Ralph  for  fifteen  months, 
'although  I  have  written  you  sixe  letters,'  and  the 
anxiety  of  not  knowing  the  state  of  mind  of  those 
whom  he  loved  so  well  was  a  great  addition  to 
his  troubles.  The  difficulties  arising  from  political 
animosities  were  naturally  great ;  Lady  Sussex,  on 
the  winning  side,  complains  again  and  again  that 
her  letters  to  Ralph  have  been  opened  and  read,  and 
only  those  sent  by  hand  seem  to  have  been  safe.  In 
one  case  Edmund  gives  his  brother  an  address  at 
Dublin,  saying,  '  merchants'  letters  pass  safely,  when 
malignants  of  either  party  are  opened,'  showing  that 
the  term  was  employed  indifferently  by  both  sides. 

In  February  1643  Edmund  took  part  in  an 
engagement  at  Rathconnell  and  received  a  shot  upon 
the  collar  of  his  doublet,  '  which,  however,  only  made 


CONCERNING  EDMUND,  THE   YOUNG  CAVALIER      139 

my  neck  black  and  blew,  without  any  further  hurt  ; 
the  rebbells  have  many  officers  come  daily  to  them 
from  Flanders  and  ours  go  by  dozens  into  England, 
and  I  believe  in  a  short  time  we  shall  none  of  us  be 
able  to  stay  here  '  ;  the  soldiers  had  been  paid  nothing 
for  months  and  the  country  was  so  wasted  round 
them,  that  they  could  get  nothing  to  eat. 

In  April  he  says  that  he  has  not  heard  from  Ralph 
for  six  or  seven  months  ;  the  times  in  Ireland  grow 
worse  and  worse  :  '  except  some  very  speedy  course  be 
taken  for  our  reliefe,  this  kmgdome  must  needes  be 
lost,  for  the  very  officers  want  mony  to  feede  them- 
selves. About  three  weekes  since  the  enemy  gave 
my  lord  marquesse  of  Ormond  battell,  where,'  as  he 
modestly  says,  '  I  allsoe  was.  God  gave  us  the  vic- 
tory ;  the  rebbells  were  more  than  two  for  one,  yet 
we  lost  not  above  ten  men,  but  there  lay  slayne  of 
the  enemy  above  200,  most  of  which  were  com- 
manders and  gentlemen  of  very  good  quality.  Wee 
tooke  Collonell  Cullen  leivetenant  generall  of  theire 
army,  serjeant  major  Butler  and  more  captaines 
prisoners.  About  3  dayes  hence  I  shall  goe  out  in 
another  party  with  my  Lord  Moore.  .  .  I  shall  this  day 
be  serjeant  major  to  Collonell  Gybson's  regiment,  of 
which  I  have  hitherto  been  captaine.'  Lord  Ormond 
had  been  made  Lord  Lieutenant  in  November  '42. 

The  small  force  of  English,  gallantly  as  they 
behaved,  were  so  greatly  outnumbered  by  the  rebels 
that  it  was  impossible  without  support  from  England 
to  continue  the  war  to  any  advantage  ;  matters  went 


140      VERNEY   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

on  from  bad  to  worse  till  in  September  a  cessation  of 
arms  was  concluded  for  a  year,  and  Edmund  returned 
to  England. 

Meantime  the  family  affairs  there  were  very  far 
from  prosperous.  The  following  is  from  a  rough 
copy  made  by  Ralph  of  a  letter  to  his  brother, 
which  miscarried.  '  I  am  now  going  into  the  country 
for  a  little  aire,  and  please  myselfe  with  hopes  to 
receive  a  letter  from  you  there.  All  the  money  you 
writ  for  is  paied  as  you  directed  :  as  for  that  other 
which  is  due  to  you  [i.e.  from  the  Alnage]  .  .  .  tis 
now  almost  a  yeare  since  any  part  of  it  was  paied, 
and  then  but  £100.  Till  it  please  God  to  settle  these 
distractions  I  feare  non  will  bee  gott.  The  last  you 
sent  for,  and  part  of  what  I  paid  before,  was  of  my 
owne  money.  .  .  .  but  if  you  send  for  more  (whilst 
I  have  any)  you  shall  not  want  it.' 

On  October  24,  '43,  Edmund  writes,  still  from 
Dublin  :  '  Your  distractions  in  England  keepe  uss  soe 
poore  in  Ireland,  that  we  scarce  know  how  to  put 
breade  into  our  mouths.'  He  has  had  to  take  up  100^. 
from  the  merchant  in  whose  house  he  lies,  for  which 
he  sends  a  bill  of  exchange  that  he  hopes  Ralph  will 
accept  on  the  security  of  his  600/.  or  TOO/,  arrears  of 
pay.  '  I  thinke  there  will  be  good  store  of  our  forces 
shortly  in  England  ;  I  shall  be  sure  to  be  one,  and 
though  I  come  with  ass  mortall  a  dislyke  to  those  you 
wish  too  well  to,  ass  any  man  that  shall  come  over, 
yet  I  pray  be  assured  that  1  have  ass  much  affection 
towards  you  ass  any  freinde  you  have.' 


CONCERNING  EDMUND,   THE   YOUNG  CAVALIER      141 

Unfortunately  this  letter  only  came  to  hand  at  the 
time  when  Ralph,  in  trouble  with  the  Parliament, 
was  about  to  take  refuge  in  France.  '  I  am  infinetly 
sorry  poore  Ireland  hath  tasted  soe  deeply  of  our 
distraction,'  he  writes,  '  and  that  you  have  been  soe 
greate  a  shairer  in  this  common  calamity.  As  for 
your  coming  over,  you  know  my  oppinion,  and  I 
have  sufferd  too  much  already  to  trouble  you  with  it 
any  more,  therefore  I  now  only  thanke  you  for  those 
expressions  of  your  love  and  affection,  which  you 
have  given  mee  in  this  letter,  and  intreate  you  to 
beeleeve,  that  though  perhapps  in  some  things  wee 
may  differ  in  judgment  and  oppinion,  yet  nothing  of 
that  kinde  shall  ever  prevaile  with  mee  to  breake  that 
knot  of  true  affection  that  ought  to  bee  betwixt  us, 
there  are  too  many  others  to  contend  with  ;  sweet 
Brother,  let  your  breath  and  mine  be  spent  in  praiers 
for  Peace,  and  though  it  bee  denied  us  in  this  world, 
hereafter  wee  may  finde  it.  God  in  mercy  blebse  you, 
farewell.' 

This  touching  letter  did  not  reach  its  destination, 
and  on  December  5  Edmund,  who  had  arrived  at  Ox- 
ford, wrote  again  in  great  distress  at  having  no  answer. 
He  fears  that  Ralph's  '  distance '  proceeds  from  the 
letter  written  when  he  heard  of  the  side  taken  by  his 
brother  :  '  For  my  part  I  have  forgot  the  contents  of 
it,  and  never  desire  to  know  it,  since  it  bredd  soe 
unhappy  a  difference.  Beleeve  me  'twas  farr  from  my 
thought  that  it  would  ever  take  such  effect,  but  the 
passion  of  it  deriv'd  its  birth  from  ass  passionate  a 


142      VERXEY  FAMILY   DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

one  on  the  same  occasion  from  him  [his  father] 
who  can  never  be  forgotten,  or  indeede  remembered 
but  with  a  sadd  reverance.  I  am  heartily  glad  to  heare 
your  resolution  is  altered,  let  the  change  of  that  be 
accompanyd  with  a  new  opinion  of  me.  ...  I  hope 
this  absence  of  yours  [he  must  have  heard  from 
others  of  Ealph's  approaching  departure]  will  give 
me  some  occasion  to  serve  you,  and  if  I  doe  it  not 
fay  thfully  may  all  good  men  forsake  me.  ...  I  shall 
not  subscribe  my  name  to  these  lines,  I  am  confident 
you  know  the  hand,  and  if  you  knew  the  heart  ass 
well,  much  of  what  I  have  here  written  might  have 
been  left  out.  .  .  .  Deare  Brother  let  me  begg  you  to 
write  to  me  ass  often  ass  you  can,  if  I  doe  not  the 
lyke  let  me  suffer  the  greatest  punishment  that  may 
be,  which  will  be  by  your  thereby  occasion'd  silence/ 

Edmund  felt  the  loss  of  his  father  most  keenly 
and  frequently  alluded  to  him  in  his  letters.  Writing^ 
to  Ralph  about  the  provisions  of  the  will,  he  says  : 
'  Though  I  am  left  the  best  of  the  three  [younger 
sons]  yet  it  is  but  halfe  of  that  which  I  have 
had  a  long  promise  of.  Would  it  had  pleased  God 
to  continue  his  lyfe  that  left  it,  though  I  had  beggd 
all  myne.  It  is  not  that,  nor  anything  else,  that 
can  lessen  my  honour  to  the  memory  of  that  most 
gallant  man ;  let  even  the  thought  of  being  his 
children  keep  us  all  in  unity.' 

The  money  which  Sir  Edmund  intended  to  leave 
to  his  younger  children  had  melted  partly  away  in 
the  king's  service  and  in  the  depreciation  of  all 


CONCERNING   EDMUND,   THE  YOUNG  CAVALIER      143 

securities  and  investments,  but  Edmund  did  not 
realise  the  consequent  difficulties  of  Ralph's  position, 
and  in  a  letter  to  him  in  February  '44  he  takes  rather 
a  high  tone  respecting  his  sisters'  fortunes  :  '  I  am 
confident  you  are  of  opinion  that  if  my  father  when 
he  made  his  will  had  had  the  least  thought  of  these 
times,  he  would  not  have  left  his  younger  children 
theire  portions  in  such  an  office  [i.e.  the  Alnage] — 
his  intentions  were  they  should  have  it  the  full,  and 
wass  heartily  troubled  he  could  make  it  no  more. 
Sweete  Brother  mistake  me  not,  I  doe  not  write  this 
that  I  thought  it  reasonable  all  this  losse  should  lyght 
on  you,  but  that  you  having  by  many  degreese  the 
greater  share,  soe  in  ^equity  should  beare  the  greatest 
burden  of  it ;  I  and  my  other  two  brothers  have  our 
swords  to  live  by,  though  God  knowes  they  yeeld  us 
•but  poor  livelyhoods  in  these  times,  yet  while  I  have 
it  and  God  blesse  my  lymbs  and  grant  that  I  am  not 
taken  prisoner,  I  shall  endeavour  hereafter  to  keepe 
lyfe  and  soule  togeather  ass  well  ass  I  can  by  it.  But 
for  my  sisters  I  must  desire  you  to  continue  your 
allowance  to  them  ass  long  and  in  ass  high  a  propor- 
tion ass  you  are  able,  God  knowes  they  are  not  able 
to  helpe  themselves.  I  am  confident  it  was  ever  your 
intention.' 

He  had  previously  demanded  his  own  allowance 
somewhat  peremptorily ;  he  had  even  forced  the 
steward  at  Claydon  to  give  him  80/.  in  the  mistaken 
belief  that  Ralph  was  answerable  for  his  fortune, 
and  a  coolness  between  the  brothers  ensued.  Maryr 


144      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

naturally  indignant  for  her  husband,  seems  to  have 
shown  her  feelings  by  silence,  and  Edmund  writes 
humbly  to  her  :  '  Sweete  Sister  it  iss  now  about  a 
yeare  and  halfe  since  I  receiv'd  a  letter  from  you  :  I 
have  written  severall  since  that  time  ;  I  remember 
when  you  would  not  have  receiv'd  soe  many  without 
making  returne  ;  I  put  it  to  yourselfe  to  judge  of 
whither  thinke  you  these  fitt  times  for  those  whome 
allyance  tyes  to  soe  strict  a  unity,  to  live  in  any 
distance ;  but  heretofore  I  thought  allyance  the  lesser 
tye  that  had  beene  betweene  uss  and  that  of  freind- 
shipp  the  greater,  and  can  this  be  dissolv'd  at  once? 
and  without  any  expostulation?  it  held  10  yeare 
firme,  and  can  any  one  houres  worke  destroy  soe 
strong  a  foundation  and  wholly  ruine  it?  Lyfe  iss  at 
all  times  most  uncertaine,  but  I  am  now  in  a  way 
that  I  know  not  how  soone  mine  may  be  shortned  by 
accident,  and  would  you  willingly  entertaine  this 
dispute  during  lyfe?  Sweete  Sister  [he  ends  patheti- 
cally], beleeve  it  hath  lasted  long  enough,  yea  too  too 
long,  and  therefore  now  let  it  dy.' 

In  the  meantime  a  long-delayed  letter  from  him 
reached  Ralph  in  France,  which  he  said  was  '  the 
greatest  comfort  and  contentment '  he  had  had  since 
leaving  '  poore  England.7  Harmony  was  thus  happily 
restored,  and  though  the  money  matters  were  not 
thoroughly  cleared  up  till  a  few  years  later,  the 
affectionate  intimacy  between  the  brothers  was  only 
interrupted  by  Edmund's  premature  and  tragic 
death. 


CONCERNING  EDMUND,  THE    YOUNG   CAVALIER      145 

This  question  of  the  fortunes  of  the  younger 
children  from  the  Alnage  is  constantly  coming  up  in 
the  letters.  Gary  Gardiner  had  some  settlements  on 
her  marriage,  and  Margaret  was  provided  for  by  her 
godmother,  Mrs.  Eure  ;  but  Susanna,  Penelope,  Mary, 
and  Elizabeth  were  advised  to  petition  '  the  honor- 
able Committee  of  the  King's  Revenue'  for  their 
annuities  and  arrears.  Their  petition  was  considered 
by  a  Committee  of  Lords  and  Commons  in  September 
1647,  and  was  referred  to  the  Solicitor- General  for 
his  report  by  an  order  signed  by  Lords  Salisbury, 
Saye  and  Sele,  and  Wharton,  Henry  Mildmay  and 
J.  Bond.  Oliver  St.  John  made  a  detailed  report  in 
which  he  established  Sir  Edmund  Verney's  claim 
under  the  Great  Seal  of  England  to  this  charge 
'  upon  the  Aulnage  .  .  .  and  duties  payable  upon 
all  and  all  manner  of  Woolen  Cloathes  and  Stuffs  of 
the  old  and  new  draperies  made  to  be  sould  in  the 
Real  me  of  England,  Dominion  of  Wales  and  the  Isle 
of  Weight.'  By  the  kindness  of  the  Duke  of  Port- 
land, the  originals  of  the  Petition  and  Report  which 
are  in  his  collection  of  manuscripts  are  reproduced 
in  the  Appendix. 

But  although  the  Verney  girls  had  proved  their 
rights,  they  were  very  far  from  getting  their  money. 
Year  after  year  their  eldest  brother  helps  them  to 
assert  their  claims  ;  he  writes  to  all  kinds  of  people, 
and  is  met  on  all  sides  by  hints  that  presents  are 
expected.  Dr.  Denton  writes  that  '  hungry  curs  will 
eat  durty  puddings.' 

VOL.  II.  L 


146       VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

In  Sir  Ralph's  calendar  are  these  entries  : 
May  22,  1648,  he  is  advised  to  '  suppresse  ye 
petition  and  insist  on  St.  John's  report '  ;  a  few  days 
later  he  hears  that  they  have  received  '  a  fatal  doome 
about  the  Aulnage,  which  was  though  they  could  not 
deny  the  right,  yet  they  were  soe  much  in  Debt,  they 
could  not  spare  it.'  Lord  Saye  and  Sele,  who  signed 
the  report  of  the  Committee  that  received  the  peti- 
tion, was  to  be  referred  to.  In  September,  Sir  Ralph 
suggests  that  they  should  '  try  to  get  the  Aulnage 
by  some  order  in  the  Lords'  House.'  Nothing  has 
been  done,  for  in  October  he  begs  the  Dentons  to 
'  haunt  Lord  Wharton  about  the  Aulnage.7  In 
November  he  hears  that  the  clothiers  are  petition- 
ing Parliament  to  do  away  with  the  Alnage  in  the 
interest  of  their  trade  ;  he  can  only  hope  that  '  they 
will  satisfie  the  owners  of  it,  as  they  did  the  Officers 
in  the  court  of  Wards,  the  thing  being  legall.'  Later 
on  there  are  complaints  that  certain  papers  concern- 
ing the  Alnage  are  lost,  and  hints  that  officials  con- 
cerned in  it  expect  fees  !  Dr.  Denton  writes  that 
their  neighbours,  the  Chaloners,  offer  to  help,  but 
'  the  Alnage  sticks  in  Chaloner's  hands '  ;  then  it 
seems  that  the  matter  depends  on  Sir  Henry  Mild- 
may.  In  September  1649  the  matter  is  still  in  sus- 
pense :  '  Dr.  thinks  unlesse  the  whole  Alnage  fall 
it  will  be  gott  at  last,'  but  if  all  friends  fail  '  Dr. 
will  give  somebody  £100  to  get  it  donne.'  '  A  Fee 
to  some  powerfull  man  were  well  given  to  get  this 
money.' 


CONCERNING  EDMUND,  THE  YOUNG  CAVALIER   147 

Dr.  Denton  goes  on  consulting  '  with  all  persons 
about  the  Aulnage,  everybody  discomforts  him,  but 
hee  will  offer  at  it  still  and  watch  for  an  opportunity 
to  advance  it/  In  1655,  thirteen  years  after  their 
father's  death,  the  girls  are  still  vainly  trying  to  get 
their  portions ;  their  brother  Edmund  having  long- 
passed  beyond  the  reach  of  the  chances  and  changes 
of  this  troublesome  world. 


148      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE    CIVIL    WAR 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

SIR  RALPH'S  CHOICE,  THE  COVENANT  OR  EXILE. 

Because  you  have  thrown  off  your  prelate-lord 

Arid  with  stiff  vows  renounced  his  liturgy.   .  .  . 

Dare  ye  for  this  adjure  the  civil  sword 

To  force  our  consciences  that  Christ  set  free  ? — MILTON.  l 

AT  the  beginning  of  1643.  Ralph,  though  he  is  too 
troubled  to  take  notes,  is  attending  Parliament  and 
carrying  on  his  correspondence  with  Lady  Sussex. 
There  are  also  in  the  early  months  of  the  year 
voluminous  epistles  from  the  scapegrace  Tom,  who 
had  written  in  November  '42  :  '  My  full  resolution 
is  to  goe  downe  to  the  king's  army,  about  Wednesday 
next,  and  there  to  proffer  my  service  to  his  Majesty, 
which  I  hope  will  not  only  be  accepted  of,  but  it  may,  if 
it  shall  pleas  God  to  spare  mee  my  life,  be  a  fortune  for 
me  for  ever.  .  .  .  Now  I  am  noeways  able  to  goe  unless 
you  will  be  pleased  either  to  lend  mee  a  hors,  or  to 
give  mee  a  hors  ! '  In  January  '43  he  writes  from 
the  Fleet  to  tell  his  brother  how  the  troops  he  was 
with  had  been  besieged  in  Chichester  and  forced  to 
surrender  upon  quarter, t  But  were  all  taken  prisoners, 

1  '  On  the  new  forcers  of  conscience  under  the  Long  Parliament.' 


SIR   RALPH'S   CHOICE  149 

and  plundered  of  all  except  the  cloths  wee  had  then 
on  our  backs,  which  hath  caused  mee  to  be  desti- 
tute of  everything.'  Then  follows  some  very  grand 
language  about  his  '  unlawful!  imprisonment,  and  an 
urgent  request  that  £10  may  be  paid  to  Mr.  Fage 
who  doth  detaine  my  cloths.'  '  For  what  I  have 
hitherto  done,  I  will  maintaine  with  my  life  that  it  is 
warrantable  .  .  .  with  this  respect  that  I  did  allwayes 
maintaine  that  true  protestant  religion  which  my 
father  bred  and  brought  mee  up  in  ;  next  the  king's 
prerogative,  then  the  liberty  of  the  subject,  and  last 
of  all  the  just  privileges  of  parliament.  .  .  .  Thus 
charitably  will  I  think  of  you,  that  it  is  not  your 
desire  to  have  the  book  of  common  prayer  taken  out 
of  the  churches,  but  perhapps  you  would  have  it  a 
little  reformed.'  Tom  is  unapproachable  when  he 
poses  as  a  philosopher  and  a  divine  ;  but  it  is  to  be 
feared  that  his  letters  were  much  less  diverting  to  Sir 
Ralph  than  they  are  to  us  ;  he  did  not  apparently 
send  the  10?.,  for  three  days  after  comes  an  angry 
protest :  '  I  scorne  to  be  fed  from  hand  to  mouth,  as 
men  doe  feed  young  apes  to  make  them  plyable  to 
their  dispositions.  .  .  .  This  is  the  last  I  protest  to 
God  you  shall  receive  from  mee,  unless  I  may  be 
supplied  with  what  I  formerly  sent  for.'  On  the 
16th  he  has  found  another  cause  for  complaint :  '  I 
was  informed  by  a  freind  how  scornefully  I  was 
spoken  of,  att  the  home  taverne  in  fleet  street,  by 
three  or  foure  gentlemen  that  were  in  mourneing. 
The  words  were  thees  ;  that  I  was  a  great  malignant 


150      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

and  had  deserved  hanghing.  .  .  .  More  over  they 
were  pleased  to  applaud  you,  in  saying  that  you  were 
both  wise  and  discreet  and  in  much  favour  in  the 
parliament  hous  ;  now  one  of  thees  being  by  made 
this  answer  ;  why  you  (being  in  soe  great  favour)  did 
not  seek  my  releasment  from  my  close  imprisonement. 
Another  of  his  associates  did  reply,  that  you  took 
much  distaste  at  a  letter  which  I  lately  sent  to  you, 
therefore  you  would  neither  meddle  nor  make  with 
mee.'  He  goes  on  to  reproach  Ralph  furiously  for 
making  his  brother  a  '  laughing  stock  and  talk  to 
every  unworthy  rascall.'  On  the  27th  comes  a  very 
terrible  threat :  '  Deare  Brother,  it  will  be  a  wounder 
to  see  mee  in  print.  Yet  I  feare  what  with  my  un- 
just imprisonment  arid  your  uncharitable  affections 
will  move  mee  to  it,  which  if  it  doth  I  shall  then 
make  my  loyall  and  true  harted  affections  towards 
my  king  and  country  known  to  God  and  all  good 
Christians.' 

Lady  Sussex  thus  comments  to  Ralph  on  Tom's 
behaviour  :  '  i  am  truly  soiy  to  hear  your  naty  brother 
gives  so  much  trouble  to  you  .  .  .  i  wish  he  were  in 
the  forfront  of  the  next  cermish  ;  for  god  sake  bee 
more  wise  then  to  affict  your  selfe  for  any  thinge  of 
unkaindnes  that  can  com  from  him  ;  he  gave  much 
truble  to  his  good  father  and  so  he  will  do  to  you  i 
fear  ;  .  .  .  you  have  don  nothinge  of  ill,  but  good  to 
them  all.' 

In  April  it  appears  that  the  ne'er  do  weel  is 
married,  and  she  writes  that  she  is  much  troubled  that 


SIR   RALPH'S   CHOICE  151 

he  '  has  made  himself  so  miserable.  Sartinly  itt  tis 
some  rnene  pore  woman  ...  let  him  suffer  for  his 
foly  and  goo  his  one  waye.' 

Poor  Lady  Sussex  had  a  trying  life  at  Gorham- 
bury  ;  what  with  the  danger  of  being  attacked  and 
plundered,  the  difficulty  of  getting  rents,  and  the 
annoyances  from  soldiers  quartered  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, the  anxieties  of  the  time  were  great.  In 
October  '42  she  mentions  how  '  my  lady  Monmouth 
sent  hur  horses  yesterday  to  fech  up  hur  children,  and 
the  ware  taken  away  from  hur  servant.' 

In  November  she  gets  a  protection  for  Gorham- 
bury  signed  by  Lord  Essex,  and  she  is  taking  her  own 
measures  to  defend  herself  from  the  lawlessness  of 
Royalist  soldiers. 

'  my  fear  is  most  of  prince  ropperte,  for  tho  say 
he  hath  littill  mercy  when  he  comes.  ...  I  am 
hear  in  as  sade  a  condisyon  as  may  bee.  .  .  .  i  have 
made  up  some  of  the  dors  and  pilede  them  up  so  with 
wode  that  i  belive  my  hose  is  able  to  keepe  out  a  good 
many  now  ;  if  wee  escape  plonderinge  i  shall  account 
it  a  great  marsy  of  god  ;  the  are  all  about  us  hear  in 
such  grivus  fears  that  if  they  see  but  a  gentillman 
ridinge  they  think  it  tis  to  robe  them.' 

In  January  '43  she  writes  :  '  They  till  me  ther  was 
something  rede  in  the  chorch  this  sonday,  that  thos 
that  dide  not  give  to  the  parlyment  must  be  plonderede 
presently  ;  i  cannot  belive  it  was  so  ;  but  your  forses 
have  taken  away  our  srife  [  ?  sheriff]  as  the  call  him  ;  i 
pray  god  derect  the  harts  of  the  most  powerfull  to  put 


1-52      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

an  ende  to  the  miserable  time  which  must  nedes  ruen 
all  if  they  holde.'  January  14  :  '  i  thanke  you  for  my 
printide  nues,  but  i  belive  as  you  dide  the  lordes 
never  made  the  speches.  .  .  .  Sometimes  when  ther 
is  any  true  thinges  put  in  printe,  I  shoulde  bee  glade 
of  them  ;  but  not  of  all  the  idel  thinges  they  make.' 
January  20  :  '  Great  somes  i  see  must  be  rasede.' 
(It  was  at  this  time  that  the  Commons,  distressed  for 
want  of  money,  dismissed  the  farmers  of  the  customs 
and  appointed  new  ones,  who  agreed  to  lend  20,000/. ) 
She  desires  that  her  pictures  may  not  be  sent,  as  they 
are  safer  with  Sir  Kalph.  '  Now  let  inee  tell  you  i 
am  infinetly  sory  that  your  good  brother  [Henry] 
hath  misede  of  the  plas  ;  the  unworthynes  of  pepell 
in  thes  times  are  beyonde  all  exampell  i  thinke ;  if  itt 
bee  more  mony  that  must  do  itt,  i  will  helpe  some- 
thinge  to  itt.  May  bee  itt  was  ill  taken  that  they  went 
not  to  do  ther  duty  att  Oxfort ;  you  are  wise  and 
discrite  ;  yonger  brothers  that  are  to  make  ther  for- 
tunes, must  sometimes  be  forst  to  doo  that  which  is 
not  plesinge  to  them  .  .  .  i  hear  your  parlyment 
commandes  ther  shall  bee  no  passege  betwixt  Oxfort 
and  London,  if  itt  be  so  i  shall  bee  in  great  distres  for 
my  chaplen,  who  apoynts  to  com  up  the  next  wike 
and  to  have  his  bokes  brought  up  which  is  all  his 
weith  ...  in  honor  i  most  make  good  the  bokes  if 
the  shoulde  miscary.'  January  28  :  '  This  retierde 
life  with  my  sade  thoughts  truly  woulde  sone  make 
an  ende  of  me,  hade  i  not  more  from  you  than  the  rest 
of  my  frindes  to  plese  me  ;  thes  times  give  us  lettill 


SIR   RALPH'S   CHOICE 

but  terror  and  fears,  and  we  hear  ther  is  littell  hopes 
of  an  acomidasyon.' 

There  is  a  letter  dated  Saxham,  January  29,  from 
Sir  Henry  Crofts  to  his  sister-in-law,  Lady  Sussex,  in 
which  he  describes  '  the  miseries  and  distractions  of 
the  generall  condition  of  these  times  and  this  king- 
dome.  .  .  .  We  have  been  hetherto  in  this  countye 
more  happye  then  many  other  partes,  .  .  .  but  now 
we  have  but  too  much  cause  to  feare  our  turnes  in 
sufferinge  equally  with  the  rest  is  neare  at  hand.'  In 
these  circumstances  his  daughter  Hester  will  prove 
an  '  extraordinary  troble  '  and  '  greate  affliction,'  and 
he  begs  that  Lady  Sussex  will  receive  her  '  until!  this 
tirrany  maye  through  God's  mercy  be  over  past.  .  .  . 
I  hope  God  will  in  his  mercy  direct  me  to  some  place 
of  retreate,  whereby  I  maye  avoide  the  haveinge  that 
tendred  to  me  which  I  am  resolved  and  am  bound  in 
conscience  never  to  subscribe  unto  [i.e.  the  Cove- 
nant] .' 

Early  in  February  Lady  Sussex  wrote :  '  Wee 
have  great  store  of  sogers  at  Sentabornes  [St. 
Albans],  the  last  wike  one  of  the  tone  sent  us  worde 
they  did  intende  to  com  and  plonder  us  that  night ; 
but  a  thinke  God  it  was  not  so  ;  i  sente  presently  to 
ther  captins,  so  they  have  promisede  to  have  a  care  of 
us,  and  to  keepe  ther  sogers  from  us  :  Sr  tomis  Chike 
sent  us  another  protexsyon,  so  that  I  hope  wee  shall 
bee  safe  .  .  .  .  i  pray  God  your  hose  consent  for  a 
sasyon  of  armes.'  On  February  7,  the  lords  had 
voted  a  cessation  of  arms,  and  there  was  in  some 


154      VEENEY  FAMILY   DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

quarters  an  earnest  desire  that  the  Commons  should 
support  them.  Lady  Sussex  continues  on  the  16th  : 
' .  .  .  i  must  expect  littill  or  noe  rent  this  our 
lady-day  .  .  .  Bosby  was  one  that  pade  beste,  and 
truly  the  parlyment  side  hath  usede  him  very 
hardly  ;  for  his  religion  i  thinke  ;  the  have  kaillede 
all  his  kattill  uppon  the  gronde,  taken  away  his  hay, 
so  that  itt  tis  likely  he  most  paye  ill  now.'  March  8  : 
'  i  am  very  sory  for  the  nues  of  my  lorde  Broke 
[his  death],  ther  will  be  much  reioysinge  on  the 
other  side.' 

In  the  previous  December  an  association  had 
been  formed  for  the  defence  of  the  Eastern  Coun- 
ties, and  Lady  Sussex  writes  about  March  15  :'  My 
lorde  Gray  hath  bene  at  Senttaborns  [St.  Albans] 
'  about  the  assosasyon  ;  I  hear  very  fue  gentimen  of 
the  contrye  cam  in  to  him,  but  resonable  store  of  the 
contry  pepell  cam  in  ;  he  made  a  great  spech,  but  I 
coulde  not  hear  what  it  was  ;  he  put  non  to  the  othes 
[oaths]  ;  but  they  say  he  gave  them  thre  wikes  time 
to  consider  of  it,  and  he  menes  to  site  they  say  in 
some  other  tones  in  this  contry  ;  they  have  rated e 
this  parish  as  i  hear  att  fore  ponde  a  leven  sillings 
a  wike,  and  to  keepe  8  fote  sogers.  I  hear  nothinge  of 
them  yet ;  i  hope  the  will  expect  nothinge  from  us, 
becase  I  presume  wee  most  pay  in  esex  and  wher 
our  lande  lyes.'  (Gorhambury  was  only  rented  by 
her.)  A  few  days  later  she  mentions  that  a  great 
lady  earnestly  entreats  her  to  leave  that  place  ;  '  but 
truly  as  I  have  stade  by  it  hetherto,  so  i  mene  and 


SIR   RALPH'S   CHOICE  155 

pies  God  to  continue  itt  out  still,  for  if  this  war 
continue  i  thinke  most  plases  will  bee  a  like.' 

Ralph  was  moving  to  a  new  house,  and  Lady 
Sussex's  next  letter  is  addressed  '  for  Sr  Rafe 
Verny  att  his  hose  in  Lincolnes  Inn  feilds  in  the 
midle  of  the  Row  wher  the  Spanish  Embassidor 
lies.'  '  My  brother  torn  tells  me  it  tis  a  prity  fine 
hose,  and  i  am  suer  you  will  make  itt  convenint  and 
hansome.  Ther  will  bee  so  much  dost  in  settinge 
thinges  up  and  with  workmen,  that  mythinkes  you 
and  your  good  swite  lady  shoulde  bee  content  to  leve 
itt ;  it  will  bee  my  infinet  joy  when  some  ever  you 
pies  to  com,  and  your  chamber  i  can  have  without 
truble  to  anybody.  I  shall  ever  take  that  fridom  to 
youse  you  as  my  one  childe,  without  any  cerimony. 
We  have  great  store  of  sogers  now  att  Sene  tabornes, 
but  wee  see  non  of  them.  I  pray  God  keepe  them 
still  from  us  for  thes  bee  the  rudist  I  have  harde  of ; 
they  saw  them  tare  the  common  prayer.' 

Early  in  April  she  again  thanks  him  '  for  his 
nuse,  wee  being  not  all  hear  of  one  belife  i  tell  them 
no  more  then  what  i  thinke  fit  for  them  to  know 
.  .  .  i  harde  from  Oxfort  latly  and  much  faxsyon 
[faction]  ther  is,  and  some  wickede  pepell  about  the 
kainge  doth  labore  whatt  they  can  that  wee  may 
have  no  pese ;  and  indede  it  tis  thought  by  some 
that  knows  much  of  the  affars  ther,  that  they  will 
bee  shorly  removede  on  way  or  other.' 

After  Ralph  had  been  to  see  her  she  thanks  him 
for  his  '  kainde  fisites,'  and  hope  he  has  not  suffered 


156      VERNE Y   FAMILY  DURING  THE  CIVIL   WAR 

'  by  so  ill  a  chorny  [journey]  .  .  .  My  baly  cam 
out  of  esexe  that  day  you  was  hear,  but  brought  not 
a  peny  of  mony  ;  ther  is  a  great  taxes  lade  uppon 
the  landes,  so  hee  cam  to  let  mee  know  the  tenents 
woulde  not  pay  itt,  but  that  i  most  alowe  of  itt  ; 
so  i  tolde  him  i  woulde,  but  that  itt  shoulde  goo 
in  the  tenents  name  .  .  .  i  hope  no  plonderers  have 
bene  att  Cladon  .  .  .  My  lorde  Gray  lay  att  Sene 
taborns  [St.  Albans]  fridy  nighte  with  some  thre 
thosonde  .  .  .  i  got  my  brother  Crofts  to  goo  to  him 
with  a  complyment,  so  he  hath  promisede  to  do  us 
all  the  cortisy  hee  can  in  his  care  of  us  hear.'  Ralph's 
hangings  and  carpets  are  to  be  sent  up  to  him.  She 
hears  that  tenants  in  Buckinghamshire  are  refusing 
to  stock  their  lands,  except  on  the  condition  that  in 
case  the  cattle  are  driven  off,  the  landlord  should 
deduct  their  loss  from  the  rent. 

In  April  the  negotiations  for  a  treaty  came  to  an 
end  and  Sir  Edward  Sydenham  writes  :  '  all  hopes 
of  peace  is  now  taken  awaye  by  the  parlyments 
sendinge  awaye  for  your  comissioners,  so  that  I  am 
in  dispaire  of  that  great  bles singe,  so  much  desyered 
by  all  honest  men,  and  no  question  a  curse  will  fale 
upon  the  hinderers  of  it.' 

Mrs.  Isham,  a  sister  of  Ralph's  mother,  had  lent 
1,000/.  to  Sir  Edmund  when  the  king  exacted  con- 
tributions for  the  war.  She  now  wrote  to  Ralph 
about  the  interest  for  the  money.  He  had  offered  to 
settle  land  in  any  way  she  pleased,  but  she  will  leave 
all  choice  to  him,  of  whose  honesty,  ability,  and  care 


SIR  RALPH'S   CHOICE  157 

she  is  very  confident,  but  he  may  take  counsel  with 
her  brother,  Dr.  Denton,  '  to  avoyde  suspicion  of 
other  and  clamour  of  the  world  .  .  .'  Formerly 
the  interest  had  been  8  per  cent.,  but  in  these  bad 
times  she  says  that  would  not  be  possible  for  him  to 
pay,  '  and  it  would  be  a  sin  in  me  to  receve  it, 
though  you  should  freely  offer  it.'  She  is  fain  to 
entertain  soldiers  '  twise  a  day  and  keepe  them 
company  all  the  while  for  feare  they  should  not  think 
us  courteous.'  '  For  the  passengers  that  pass  aboute 
ther  bisnes,  they  lay  hold  on  them.' 

There  had  been  depredations  on  the  Claydon 
iish-ponds,  for  Lady  Sussex  says,  '  to  drag  your 
ponde  was  a  wikede  part  of  them  to  do  ;  but  i  hope 
the  hade  not  time  to  destroy  all  your  good  fish.' 

On  May  14  there  is  a  letter  from  the  incor- 
rigible Tom.  by  which  it  appears  that  Ralph  had 
been  trying  to  arrange  for  his  release  from  the  Fleet 
upon  conditions  of  his  straightway  taking  :>liip  in 
charge  of  the  master.  '  The  Barbados  is  the  place 
that  I  only  ayme  att.  But  your  weak  faith  doth  not 
any  wayes  beleeve  that  my  thoughts  are  reall  .  .  . 
Oh !  Brother  how  doe  you  wish  my  libertye,  and 
tye  mee  to  soe  hard  conditions.  My  conscience 
telleth  mee  that  neither  his  lordshipp  nor  the  hous  of 
commons  never  thought  to  take  mee  out  of  one  prison 
to  putt  mee  into  another,  I  meane  in  giveing  mee  in 
charge  to  a  maister  of  a  shipp,  had  not  you  putt  it 
into  their  minds,  haveing  an  itching  desire  to  have 
mee  gone  ;  for  feare  I  should  be  chargeable  to  you 


158      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE    CIVIL   WAR 

hereafter ;  which  is  contrary  to  my  disposition.' 
On  June  1  he  says  he  is  getting  ready  for  the 
voyage  to  the  Barbados,  but  as  his  wife's  mother 
will  not  let  her  go,  he  means  to  wait  for  six  months  ; 
and  a  month  later  it  is  but  too  evident  that  he  has 
no  intention  of  relieving  his  relations  in  England 
of  his  presence,  as  his  wife  Joyce  writes  to  Ralph 
begging  his  help  since  the  Parliament  claimed  her 
goods,  and  her  husband  had  betaken  himself  to  the 
king's  army.  Ralph  does  not  hold  out  much  hope 
of  his  assistance,  remarking  gravely,  '  had  I  had  any 
knowledg  of  your  intentions  to  match  with  him, 
both  this  and  that  might  have  been  prevented.' 

It  does  not  appear  that  Mistress  Joyce  would 
have  welcomed  this  well-meant  interference,  and 
Lady  Sussex's  surmise  that  she  must  be  some  poor, 
mean  woman,  seems  to  have  been  a  piece  of  gratuitous 
ill-nature,  prompted  by  her  hearty  dislike  of  Tom. 
Joyce,  who  writes  and  spells  better  than  most  of  the 
ladies  of  Ralph's  acquaintance,  writes  to  him  of  her 
'  passionate  affection  to  your  brother  my  deare 
husband.  I  have  parted  with  an  estate  and  my 
father  is  ready  to  do  much  more  for  me,  so  that  my 
husband  performs  with  him  the  conditions  upon 
marriage  with  me  ...  I  am  sorry  my  husband 
did  not  folow  your  counsell  being  his  wisest  frind. 
But  I  had  rather  condeme  my  selfe  then  my  husband, 
and  I  would  suffer  any  thing  for  him,  as  I  am  bound 
in  duty  .  .  .  my  best  hopes  was  to  enjoy  his 
desired  company.' 


SIR  RALPH'S   CHOICE  159 

Many  disasters  befell  the  Parliament  during  this 
summer,  among  which  was  the  death  of  Hampden 
on  June  24.  Lady  Sussex  writes  :  '  i  am  very 
sory  for  mr  hamdon  ;  I  do  not  know  him  att  all,  but 
i  have  harde  he  is  a  most  discrite  good  man,  i  becech 
god  he  may  recover  ...  If  all  bee  true  that  is 
reportede  .  .  .  the  parlyment  side  hath  hade  much 
the  worst  of  itt  laxly  .  .  .  the  say  hear  that  farfex 
hath  hade  a  great  ovour  thro,  and  waller  will  never 
bee  able  to  appere  agane.'  Again,  a  little  later,  '  the 
death  of  mr  hamden  was  a  most  infinet  lose  beinge 
so  religious  and  very  wise  a  man.' 

The  loss  of  Hull  was  but  just  averted  by  timely 
measures.  Captain  Hotham,  son  of  the  governor, 
being  suspected  of  treachery,  was  arrested  by  order 
of  Essex  and  imprisoned  in  Nottingham  Castle, 
whence  he  escaped  and  joined  his  father  in  Hull, 
Here,  however,  he  was  re-arrested  by  the  Mayor. 
Sir  John  Hotham  hearing  of  his  capture  endeavoured 
to  escape,  but,  failing  in  his  attempt,  the  father  and 
son  were  both  sent  prisoners  to  London.  Lady 
Sussex  remarks  :  '  Sr  hothom  is  a  most  unworthy 
man  if  it  bee  true  that  is  thought  of  him  ;  but  sar- 
tinly  he  knowes  himselfe  gilty  of  some  ill  bisynes, 
or  eles  he  woulde  not  have  indevourde  to  make  an 
escape  ;  i  thought  his  sone  hade  bene  fast  in  not- 
tingam  castill.' 

Early  in  July  Lady  Sussex  bewails  Fairfax's  de- 
feat at  Adwalton  Moor :  '  I  am  truly  sory  for  my 
lorde  farfex,  a  brave  man  he  is  ;  i  hope  god  will  keepe 


160      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

him  from  falinge  into  the  handes  of  his  enimes.  ther 
plots  are  still  discoverde  ;  the  say  in  thes  parts,  ther 
was  a  pubblicke  fast  and  thinkesgiveinge  att  oxfor 
for  this  blow  my  lorde  farfex  hath  hade  ;  but  i  belive 
rather  itt  was  bonfiers.'  Two  days  later  she  says  : 
'  Sr  edwarde  terell  was  a  little  fearfull  ;  prince  robort 
hade  bene  hontinge  att  his  parke  [Thornton,  near 
Buckingham],  he  toke  him  much  with  his  cortisy  to 
him  ;  he  kailde  fife  buckes,  shote  them  and  his  doge 
boy  poullede  them  down,  he  dide  not  ride  att  all.  .  .  . 
Prince  robort  made  a  shorter  stay  then  he  in- 
tendede,  hearinge  my  lord  esex  entendede  to  bee  att 
bucingam,  all  his  compiny  went  away  soddenly  and 
he  and  them  all  laye  in  the  filde  that  night.  My  lord 
of  esex  armey  went  thoro  some  of  the  pasteurs,  dide 
littill  hort ;  the  most  was  in  Blackegrofe,  for  ther 
many  of  them  laye  uppon  the  gras  and  restede  them- 
selves ;  the  toke  not  above  on  shipe  [sheep]  ;  in  the 
common  filde  wher  the  laye  all  night  ther  was  many 
shipe  gon.' 

In  the  end  of  July  1643  Lord  Sussex  died,  and  his 
widow  had  a  great  deal  of  business  to  get  through. 
'  The  are  very  mery  att  oxfort  i  hear,'  she  says,  '  and 
thinke  to  ovour  com  all  soddonly  ;  i  hope  the  will 
not  finde  itt  so  esye  a  mattir  as  the  thinke.'  Doll 
Leeke  also  describes  the  strength  and  confidence  of 
the  king's  side.  She  would  have  written  to  Ralph 
sooner,  she  says,  could  she  have  conveyed  a  letter  to 
him.  'I  cannot  chuse  but  let  you  know  my  opinion 
of  your  condision,  which  I  think  is  so  ill  that  it  wear 


SIR  RALPH'S   CHOICE  161 

want  of  fr  hid  ship  in  me  to  conceall  it.  You  have  bin 
all  this  year  thought  a  violent  man  against  the  kin^ 
and  the  taking  of  the  Oath  [another  vow  of  adher- 
ence to  the  parliamentary  cause  had  been  taken  by 
the  Commons  in  June]  has  confermed  it  ;  he  sayes 
himself  that  all  that  took  it  wold  be  glad  of  his  ruen, 
and  it  is  the  opinion  of  most  that  are  about  him. 
God  has  blesed  him  beyond  all  your  expictasions,  and 
he  is  now  in  so  good  a  condision  that  he  nead  not 
fear  the  parliment,  tho  they  have  gon  all  the  wais  in 
the  world  to  destroy  him  ;  thay  have  nether  wanted 
men  mouney  nor  tonnes  tell  now,  but  you  se  how 
thay  have  prospred.  I  beleve  the  maine  party  of 
them  have  will  provided  for  themselfs,  and  will  leve 
you  and  many  more  in  the  lurch,  therfore  consider 
with  your  self  how  you  may  come  off  and  defere  it 
not,  it  will  not  be  so  easey  a  thing  as  you  may  Imagin, 
and  do  not  think  that  the  lose  of  your  father  will  be 
any  healp  to  you,  for  that  has  gained  you  many 
enemies  hear.  From  ther  love  to  him  proseads  ther 
hate  to  you,  becaus  you  have  continued  with  thos 
that  killed  him,  this  is  the  speach  of  many  and  I 
confess  gos  somthing  near  me  to  hear  it.  Besids  the 
lose  of  your  fortune  you  must  not  look  for  any  thing 
from  any  that  are  with  the  king  but  disrespect,  the 
family  that  I  am  in  excepted  who  ever  will  be  your 
faithfull  frinds,  tho  it  may  not  be  in  ther  power  to 
serve  you  as  thay  desire.  Whatsoever  your  consienc 
has  binn  heartofore,  I  now  beleve  you  see  your  erour, 
for  it  is  imposible  that  yon  can  still  continue  in  so 

VOL.  II.  M 


162      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

much  blindnes.  God  has  given  you  to  lardg  a  pro- 
porsion  of  senc.  Loke  upon  the  king  from  the  begin - 
ing,  and  think  with  your  self  if  god's  blising  had  not 
gon  with  him,  whether  it  had  bin  posible  he  could  have 
binn  in  such  a  condision,  as  he  is  now  in.  I  know 
many  that  wold  be  glad  to  make  ther  peas  and  give 
good  somes  for  it  (and  such  parcons  as  you  wold 
not  beleve  wold  leave  you)  and  will  not  be  accepted 
•of.  ...  I  heard  my  lord  wainman  and  some  other 
which  I  will  not  name  are  upon  coming  away,  you 
wear  mentshoned  a  mongst  them,  I  wish  that  part  of 
the  story  wear  true.'  She  recommends  him  to  '  come 
with  a  good  many  for  the  number  may  make  you  all 
•considerable  to  the  king,  which  any  of  you  alone  wold 
not  be.  Cosen,  if  you  cannot  find  in  your  hart  to 
do  this,  leve  them  and  retire  to  some  other  plac,  I 
meane  the  parliament,  for  assure  your  self  thay  will 
leave  you  and  the  kingdom  in  a  very  short  time. 
Consider  your  wiffe  and  chilldren  and  brothers  and 
sisters,  which  must  all  sufer  with  you.  .  .  .  My  obli- 
gasions  are  so  greate  that  it  wear  ingratitude  in  me 
not  to  discharge  my  consienc,  which  I  now  have  don. 
Your  brothers  are  both  well ;  Tom  found  forty  pound 
in  an  ould  coberd  in  the  subburbs  of  Bristow  befor 
we  got  the  towne  but  I  think  it  will  not  do  him  much 
good.' 

Bristol  was  taken  by  Prince  Rupert  on  July  26. 
In  August  came  the  negotiations  of  the  Parliament 
with  the  Scots,  which  resulted  in  the  '  Solemn  League 
.and  Covenant '  being  drawn  up  between  the  two 


SIR  RALPH'S  CHOICE  163 

nations  for  their  mutual  defence  and  for  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  Presbyterian  system  and  religious 
uniformity  as  understood  in  Scotland.  This  docu- 
ment was  sworn  to  at  Westminster  by  112  members 
of  the  Commons  ;  it  became  '  a  sword  to  divide.'  Sir 
Ralph's  refusal  to  sign  the  Covenant  proved  the  turn- 
ing point  of  his  career,  his  conscience  would  no  longer 
permit  him  to  continue  with  the  party  he  had  loved 
and  served  so  well.  In  the  end  of  August  he  left 
London  for  Gorhambury.  His  most  intimate  friend. 
Sir  Roger  Burgoyne,  signs  the  Covenant,  and  while 
loving  Sir  Ralph  more  than  ever,  and  respecting  his 
scruples,  he  never  ceases  to  hope  that  he  may  yet  see 
it  right  '  to  come  in.'  He  keeps  him  informed  of  all 
that  is  going  on.  On  August  29  he  writes  between 
the  lines  of  a  letter  ostensibly  full  of  public  news, 
topsy-turvy  in  sympathetic  ink,  urging  him  to 
return,  for  '  there  was  an  order  made  this  morning, 
that  a  committee  be  appointed  for  the  putting  in 
execution  the  former  order,  for  the  sequestring  the 
estates  of  those  members  of  the  house  as  shall 
absent  themselves  without  leave.  I  pray  thinke  of 
it  seriously  before  you  come.'  On  September  5  he 
says  :  '  As  you  left  us,  so  you  may  finde  us,  speaking 
much,  doing  little.  There  is  little  newes  stirring 
and  that  is  so  weary  before  it  comes  to  the  Hall  that 
it  seldom  can  mount  so  high  as  the  House.' 

Other  friends  are  trying  to  stand  up  for  Sir  Ralph 
in  his  absence  and  to  gain  time  for  him  to  consider 
his  decision.  Mr.  W.  Bell  writes  on  September  14  : 

M2 


164      VERNEY   FAMILY   DUKING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

'  You  need  not  feare  about  absence,  I  have  made 
Mr.  Speaker  myselfe  acquainted  with  that  and  the 
reason  of  it,  and  he  doth  approve  your  absence.  Sir 
theire  was  some  att  your  house  to  have  sequestred 
your  goods,  but  I  spook  with  ii  of  the  sequestra- 
tors,  and  bid  them  take  notice  from  me  that  you  were 
noe  delinquent.'  Later  he  writes  :  '  A  motion  was 
made  against  you  to-day  for  absenting  yourselfe,  as  if 
you  were  gone  to  the  king  ;  Mr.  Speaker,  Mr.  Ren- 
nolds,  and  I  told  them  how  the  case  stood  with  you, 
where  upon  the  whole  House  was  very  well  satisfied 
with  it.' 

Deeply  hurt  that  his  conduct  should  be  so  mis- 
construed, Sir  Ralph  wrote  to  Mr.  Robert  Rey- 
nolds : 

'  Sr, — Your  former  favours  give  mee  confidence  to 
trouble  you  with  a  letter  to  excuse  my  not  waiting 
on  you  as  I  intended.  The  truth  is,  I  am  yet  soe 
much  unsatisfied  in  that  businesse,  that  though  I 
have  greate  desire  to  comply  with  you,  and  some 
other  of  my  freinds,  and  submit  myselfe  to  your 
better  judgments,  yet  for  ye  present  I  canot  doe  it,  and 
being  unwilling  to  give  the  House  the  least  offence 
(knowing  how  uselesse  a  creature  I  am),  I  have 
resolved  to  take  a  jorney  and  for  a  while  to  retire  to 
some  such  place,  where  I  may  have  leasure  enough  to 
informe  my  judgment  in  such  things  wherin  I  am  yet 
doubtinge.  Sr,  perhapps  this  my  absence  may  give 
occation  to  some  jellous  spirits  to  suggest  (as  for- 
merly "they  have  donn)  that  I  am  gonn  to  Oxford,  I 


SIR   RALPH'S   CHOICE  165 

confesse  I  care  not  what  such  men  say,  a  little  time 
will  sufficiently  discover  those  malicious  untruths 
and  shame  there  authours.  Sr,  whatever  others 
thinke,  I  am  confident  you  will  still  preserve  mee  in 
your  good  oppinion,  and  I  must  beeseech  you  to 
beeleeve,  what  ever  reports  are  raised,  or  however  I 
may  suffer  by  them,  I  shall  alwaies  honour,  and  pray 
for  the  Parliament,  and  continue 
'  Your  most  affectionate  freind  and  humble  servant.' 

On  September  23,  Sir  Roger  tells  him  that  the 
House  has  resolved  that  the  Covenant  shall  be  taken 
1  by  all  the  members  of  that  house,  and  all  the  minis- 
ters of  the  Assembly  in  St.  Margaret's  Church  in 
Westminster  upon  Munday  next.  Old  Mr.  White 
to  begin  the  day  in  confession,  Mr.  Me  (whome  we 
sent  into  Scotland)  for  to  succeed  him  in  exortation 
and  advise,  Dr.  Goodge  to  conclude  as  he  shall  please. 
It  was  agreed  upon  by  the  House  of  Commons  that 
the  Lds  should  be  acquainted  with  or  resolutions  to 
do  so,  but  not  according  to  the  usuall  maner  to  be 
desired  for  to  concurr  with  the  house  in  it.  You 
may  conjecture  the  reason.' 

A  later  letter  describes  how  this  was  carried  out. 
Mr.  Xye  having  made  his  exhortation,  'Mr.  Henderson 
immediately  after  made  a  thing  betweene  a  speech  and 
a  preach  to  us  in  his  seate  ;  after  which  Mr.  Xie  reade 
the  Covenant  in  the  pulpit  before  us  all,  which  was 
ingrossed  in  parchment,  then  afterwards  the  house  of 
Comons  went  up  into  the  Chancel  for  to  subscribe 
theire  names  to  it  :  after  them  the  Scotch  Commis- 


166      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

sioners  and  the  Assembly.  One  thing  I  must  mis- 
place, which  is  that  after  the  Covenant  was  read,  all 
that  would  take  it  were  to  hold  up  their  handes. 
Ther  was  a  greater  apparence  both  of  the  house  of 
Comons,  and  also  of  the  Assembly  then  was  expected. 
The  names  of  those  that  tooke  it  are  not  yet  knowne, 
nor  of  those  that  have  not.  My  Ld  Grey  of  Ruthin, 
and  Mr.  Bond  of  or  House  are  by  the  House  ordered  to 
be  the  notaries  for  to  observe  all  that  come  into  the 
house  which  have  not  taken  the  Covenant. 
Next  Wednesday  all  ministers  in  London  and  the 
suburbs  are  to  explaine  the  Covenant  to  theire  parish 
by  order  from  the  House,  and  upon  Sunday  next 
they  are  all  to  take  it.' 

The  plot  was  thickening,  members  were  compelled 
to  sign  the  Covenant  with  short  days  of  grace,  and  a 
penalty  of  sequestration  of  all  their  estates  if  they  did 
not  come  in  ;  ruin  awaited  all  those  who  absented 
themselves.  After  Newbury  affairs  were  going 
against  the  king,  and  on  the  Parliament  side,  men 
were  scarcely  allowed  to  speak  or  even  to  write. 
'  These  inquisitive  times  silence  all  our  pennes.'  On 
September  28  Sir  Roger  writes  : 

'  Sr, — I  attended  the  house  upon  Tuisday,  ther 
cam  in  but  three  which  had  not  tooke  the  Covenant 
the  day  before,  Sr  Harry  Vane,  Mr.  Solliciter,  Sr  J°. 
ffranklin.  The  two  first  are  ready  for  to  take  it 
when  the  house  shall  please,  the  other  desires  time 
to  consider  of  it.  ...  Sir  Walter  Erie  reports  that 
some  of  our  forces  sallowed  (sallied)  out  of  Poole 


SIR   RALPH'S  CHOICE  167 

and  tooke  diverse  of  the  king's  forces,  amongst  which 
Coll  [Henry]  Yarney  was  one.  ...  I  shall  attend 
you  at  the  time  and  place  appointed.'  With  this 
letter  is  a  scrap  of  paper  on  which  is  written  in  the 
same  hand  :  '  Ordered,  that  .  .  .  Sr  Alexan.  Den- 
ton,  Sr  George  Stonhowse  .  .  cum  multis  alijs  (you 
are  not  in)  do  attend  by  October  10  the  Committee 
for  sequestring  the  estates  of  such  members  as 
neglect  the  service  of  the  howse  uppon  paine  of 
sequestring  their  estates.' 

Again  Sir  Roger  writes  :  '  Sir  W.  Lewis  tells  me 
that  he  will  take  it  [i.e.  the  Covenant].  He  won- 
ders at  you  for  holding  of  so  much,  I  preethee  deare 
heart,  this  day  or  too  morrow  at  the  farthest  come  to 
thine  owne.' 

Even  Susan  has  heard  of  the  danger  threatening 
members  who  ventured  to  differ  from  the  majority, 
and  writes  to  her  brother,  addressing  the  letter  to  a 
servant  :  '  in  this  last  dyurnall  there  is  how  that  there 
is  fore  outt  of  the  sitty  appointed  to  make  Inquire 
after  those  which  are  absent  from  the  howse,  and  if  the 
bee  nott  to  be  found  then  to  make  Inquire  after  ther 
goods,  and  whome  soever  shall  bring  them  outt  or 
give  Intelygence  where  they  bee,  they  shall  have  the 
selling  of  them  and  ther  profitt  twelf  pence  in  the 
pound  :  where  of  I  heare  though  Sr  Allex.  Denton 
and  Sir  Ralph  Varney  though  the  be  nott  named, 
yett  they  say  as  the  know  well  enough  wheare  they 
be,  and  if  they  doe  nott  com,  they  shall  be  fetchet 
very  sudenly  and  putt  in  prison.  There  are  none 


168      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

counted  so  great  mallignents  as  they  be.  In  hast 
yours.'  (No  signature.) 

It  is  clear  that  Ralph  had  now  made  up  his  mind 
not  to  sign.  The  new  '  prety  house '  in  Lincoln's 
Inn  Fields,  his  strong  parliamentary  interests,  the 
ordering  of  his  and  his  wife's  estates,  which  he  did  so 
well  and  enjoyed  doing,  the  business  for  his  friends 
whom  he  loved  so  tenderly,  was  all  to  be  abandoned. 
His  uncomplaining  heroism  is  very  remarkable  ;  he 
never  alludes  to  any  of  the  sacrifices  he  is  making  ; 
they  seem  to  him  quite  simple,  he  must  do  what  he 
thinks  right,  and  nothing  outside  has  the  slightest 
effect  upon  his  resolution.  His  trusted  friend  Sir 
Roger  writes  that  Sir  John  this  and  Sir  William 
that  have  '  come  in,'  that  '  Sir  Norton  Snatchpoole,' 
Mr.  James  Fiennes,  &c.,  with  whom  Ralph  has  been 
working  side  by  side  in  the  contest  for  the  rights  of 
Parliament,  have  had  a  day  or  two  more  grace 
allowed  them,  that  Sir  Harry  Vane  and  Mr.  Solliciter 
have  given  up  the  contest  and  signed  their  names.  It 
does  not  make  the  least  impression  upon  him.  What 
is  it  to  him  how  other  men's  consciences  allow  them 
to  act  ?  The  question  is,  What  I,  Ralph  Yerney, 
believe  to  be  the  righteous  course  in  the  matter,  and 
that,  so  help  me  God,  I  will  take. 

My  friends  consider  '  that  my  over  scrupulous 
conscience  taketh  the  oath  for  a  great  perilous  thing, 
when  it  is  indeed  but  a  trifle,'  said  another  English- 
man, who  had  dared  to  stand  alone  in  a  former  crisis 
of  England's  history,  '  and  many  may  think  this 


SIR  RALPH'S  CHOICE  169 

whom  I  myself  esteem  for  their  learning  and  virtue. 
.  .  .  But  whether  they  do  or  not,  does  not  make  any 
difference  to  me.  ...  I  never  intend  to  pin  my  soul 
to  another  man's  back.  ...  I  have  counted  the  pos- 
sible peril  on  full  many  a  restless  night  with  a  heavy 
heart,  but  never  thought  to  change.'  Sir  Ralph  had 
not  the  buoyant  cheerfulness  that  carried  Sir  Thomas 
More  so  triumphantly  through  all  sorrows  ;  he  was  in 
the  deepest  depression  of  spirits,  indeed,  he  had  so 
little  of  the  stuff  in  him  whereof  martyrs  are  made, 
that  it  is  touching  to  see  a  man  so  cautious,  so  care- 
ful, so  fond  of  the  proprieties  and  even  of  the  punc- 
tilios of  life,  go  forth  calmly  into  what  to  him  was 
indeed  the  wilderness.  Accustomed  to  being  greatly 
regarded  at  home,  he  went  out  to  face  penury  and 
insignificance  ;  and  what,  to  a  man  who  enjoyed 
doing  every  item  of  his  own  business  with  his  own 
head  and  hands,  must  have  been  almost  worse,  he 
was  obliged  to  leave  his  affairs  to  others.  The  delays 
and  uncertainties  of  the  foreign  post,  and  the  un- 
settled state  of  the  country,  made  it  difficult  for  him 
when  abroad  even  to  hear  of  what  his  agent  was  doing 
for  him  in  his  absence — but  '  the  bigots  of  the  iron 
time '  had  affixed  a  penalty  of  utter  ruin  on  any 
independence  of  j  udgment.  The  wrench  is  great  ;  it 
is  like  the  dividing  asunder  of  soul  and  body  ;  he  has 
only  to  walk  up  St.  Margaret's,  to  sign  his  name  in  the 
chancel,  but  there  is  never  a  halt  in  his  resolution. 
*  For  my  owne  part  I  am  resolved,'  he  says,  '  that 
innocency  shall  be  my  guard,  and  then  whatsoever 


170      VERNE Y   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

I  suffer  I  can  beare  without  repining.'  Mr.  John 
Fountains,  a  Royalist  lawyer,  writes  to  him :  '  I  was 
once  in  hopes  since  I  last  parted  with  thee,  that 
something  might  have  been  done  to  have  caused  a 
happy  and  peaceable  meeting,  but  all  those  hopes 
were  soone  quashed,  and  I  see  nothing  now  but 
ye  devouring  sworde  to  put  an  end  to  or  differences. 
I  understand  something  of  thy  intentions.  I  wish  I 
might  be  soe  happy  that  ...  I  may  speak e  wth  thee 
before  thy  departure.'  Ralph  replies,  '  My  hart,  it 
greeves  mee  that  I  canot  invent  a  way  to  see  thee 
.  .  .  and  it  afflicts  mee  much  more  to  think  how  longe 
wee  shall  bee  parted.  Had  I  thy  company  all  places 
would  bee  pleasant  to  mee,  but  wherever  I  am,  I  will 
bee  entirely  thine  ;  and  if  wee  never  meete  on  earth, 
I  hope  in  heaven  wee  shall.  God  in  mercy  end  these 
miserable  times,  for  my  part  I  never  expect  to  enjoy 
any  more,  I  see  my  ruine  at  the  very  dore  ready  to- 
swallow  mee.' 

Henry  has  been  taken  by  the  parliamentary  army. 
Sir  Roger  writes  on  October  3  partly  about  '  Colonel 
Yarney's '  imprisonment,  partly  about  some  trunks 
belonging  to  Ralph's  sister  Mary,  which  had  been 
intercepted  and  examined  by  the  Committee  at '  Har- 
ford.'  '  Sir  John  Norwich  .  .  .  cannot  believe  that 
any  thing  ther  did  belonge  to  Mistress  Mary  Verney, 
unless  it  were  a  little  booke  Quarles  Emblems  uppon 
which  her  name  was  writt.' 

Poor  Ralph,  in  the  midst  of  his  own  distresses, 
writes  to  the  governor  of  Portsmouth  in  Henry's 


SIR  RALPH'S   CHOICE  171 

behalf,  saying  that  he  will  supply  his  brother's  wants 
as  soon  as  possible.  '  In  the  meanetime  I  know  you 
are  soe  noble,  that  he  shall  have  all  necessary  accom- 
modations fit  for  a  gentleman.'  To  Henry  himself 
who  had  written  to  beg  20Z.,  for  *  all  the  goods  thay 
left  mee  was  a  come  and  a  nolmenecke,'  he  says  that 
he  has  used  all  the  means  he  could  to  effect  his 
desires.  '  I  know  restraint  is  greivous  to  your 
nature,  yet  you  were  happie  to  fall  into  soe  good 
hands.' 

From  the  letter  of  a  certain  Thomas  Baker,  it 
appears  that  there  was  no  doubt  about  getting  an 
exchange  for  Henry,  but  the  fame  of  his  gallantry 
made  them  think  an  important  one  necessary.  In 
the  following  January  we  hear  that  '  Harry  is  newly 
released  his  prison,  but  it  cost  him  £60  ransorne,' 
and  he  is  shortly  after  serving  again. 

'  Prince  Maurice,'  writes  Sir  Roger  on  October  23. 
'  is  dead  at  Exeter  of  the  new  disease  [i.e.  influenza], 
and  this  reported  with  so  much  confidence  as  it 
allmost  begetts  a  beleife  in  me  of  the  truth  of  it.' 
However,  three  days  later  he  observes  :  '  Since  Prince 
Maurice  is  alive,  you  shall  never  heare  from  me  that 
he  is  dead  againe  unless  he  be  voted  so.'  That  '  Sir 
H.  Ludlow  is  dead  of  the  new  disease  '  is  mentioned 
in  another  letter. 

During  the  summer  Sir  Ralph's  household  had 
been  constantly  on  the  qui  vive  for  soldiers,  the 
trained  bands  marching  from  London  to  the  battle 
of  Newbury  passed  through  Bucks,  and  the  account 


172      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

given  by  one  of  the  sergeants  has  been  published  in 
the  '  History  of  the  Honourable  Artillery  Company.' 
'  August  30. —  \\7e  advanced  to  a  village  called 
Clayden,  this  day  the  Lord  General's  Army  and  our 
Regiment  of  the  Trained  Band  together  with  the 
auxiliary  forces  met  at  Aylesbury  ;  the  great  guns 
were  fired  at  every  fort  about  the  town  as  the  Lord 
General  passed  by.  This  was  the  fast  day  ;  our 
Regiment  was  quartered  this  night  at  Sir  Ralph 
Verney's  House,  a  Parliament  man,  his  father,  the 
King's  Standard-bearer,  was  slain  at  Edgehill/ 

After  this,  Susan  Yerney  and  Sir  John  Leeke 
write  doleful  letters  describing  how  his  horses  and 
Sir  Ralph's  were  carried  oif  by  the  troopers  ;  we 
'  shoed  [showed]  them  noates  under  your  hand,  but 
they  would  nott  looke  upon  them.  Then  we  asked 
them  for  their  commishtion  but  they  would  shoe 
none,'  says  Susan,  and  her  uncle  mourns  over  the 
loss  of  his  bay  gelding  and  a  beloved  old  horse 
Ormond,  as  '  more  grevios  than  my  Irish  plunders, 
for  now  the  owld  man  must  trampe  on  foote.' 

We  are  '  Wearied  with  being  so  often  wakened  at 
midnight  to  fly  from  the  King's  and  Parliament's 
troops,  both  equally  feared  and  equally  plundering,' 
wrote  another  sufferer  in  these  unsettled  times.1 

Meanwhile,  in  his  methodical  way,  Sir  Ralph  was 
making  such  arrangements  as  were  possible  for  the 
comfort  of  his  wife  and  family.  Before  the  Navigation 

1  A  Cavalier's  Note  Book.     Longmans,  1881. 


SIR  RALPH'S  CHOICE  173 

Acts,  the  carrying  trade  was  mainly  in  the  hands  of 
the  Dutch,  so  that  travellers  going  from  England  to 
France  sent  their  goods  by  Holland,  even  if  they 
went  themselves  by  the  direct  route.  All  through 
September  and  October,  Sir  Ralph  is  settling  about 
the  transport  of  his  heavy  luggage.  He  has  been 
warned  to  keep  his  secret  and  to  caution  his  servants 
not  to  spread  any  rumour  of  his  intended  departure ; 
but  many  '  bundles '  are  coming  up  from  Claydon  by 
degrees.  He  was  evidently  preparing  for  a  long 
absence.  The  '  bundles  '  go  through  sad  adventures. 
A  certain  Dixon  was  to  convey  some  of  them  to 
Rotterdam.  Dr.  Peter  Chamberlain  writes  from  thence 
to  say  that  Dixon  has  arrived  but  without  Sir  Ralph's 
goods  or  his  own,  '  like  a  spider  he  hath  turned  the 
sweetness  of  your  favours  into  poison  ...  we 
have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  Turkes,  the  seamen  we 
had  to  deale  withall  are  most  exquisite  knaves.  .  .  . 
Xoble  Sir,  wee  are  here  in  a  strange  country  all 
nacked,  till  your  freindshipp  &  wisdome  helpe  us  out 
of  these  troubles.' 

The  news  that  some  of  his  baggage  had  been  found 
must  have  been  very  welcome.  Peter  Chamberlayne 
writes  on  October  28  :  'I  have  your  things  in  my 
custody  in  the  Hague.  I  know  nott  yett  the  parcells, 
because  they  are  packt  up  together  where  I  cannot 
come  to  number  them,  and  because  of  the  greatness 
of  them,  I  must  be  forced  to  remove  them  out  of  that 
house  which  I  have  hired  (where  they  now  are)  .  .  . 
the  charges  amount  to  190  gulders  .  .  .  £14  in  gold 


174      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

and  16  shillings  if  ye  gold  continue  at  13  gulders  the 
Peece.  ...  I  have  likewise  furnished  yr  carefull 
servant  Samuel  Lavington  with  14  Rixe  Dollers  for 
his  return.'  Other  things  are  despatched  to  Amster- 
dam and  Rotterdam,  and  later  on  Will  Roades  sends 
up  '  an  inventory  of  17  bundles  of  linen,  pikturs  and 
stores,  whereof  10  of  them  are  sent  to  London,  and 
the  last  seaven  are  to  com  up  this  present  17th 
Novemb.  1643.' 

Ten  days  later  Sir  Ralph  writes  to  him  again  : 
1  I  pray  looke  well  if  there  is  any  more  Linnon,  or 
any  other  thinge  that  is  worth  removing  and  may 
bee  come  at  without  trouble  ;  and  make  it  upp  in 
Bundles  and  send  it  upp  as  you  have  donne  the  rest.' 

The  luggage  sent  on  before  them  amounted  to 
fifty-one  '  percells,'  including  some  trunks  of  valuables 
belonging  to  relations  confided  to  his  good  nature. 
Other  property  was  hidden  away  in  London  ;  but 
troublesome  as  these  arrangements  must  have  been, 
they  were  nothing  to  the  complicated  business  to  be 
settled  at  Clay  don. 

A  protection  from  the  king  and  one  from  the 
Parliament  had  been  obtained  for  Claydon  to  defend 
it,  if  possible,  from  harm  from  either  army.  Seques- 
tration was  imminent,  and  all  sorts  of  legal  fictions 
were  resorted  to  to  ward  it  off.  The  estate  was 
vested  in  trustees,  and  fictitious  leases  to  friends  were 
drawn  up  to  protect  Sir  Ralph's  London  house,  and 
his  interest  in  the  Alnage.  His  three  brothers  and 
five  unmarried  sisters,  scarcely  realising  his  difficulties, 


SIR  RALPH'S  CHOICE  175 

are  clamouring  for  their  portions,  and  many  creditors 
of  Sir  Edmund's  are  pressing  their  claims.  Sir 
Ralph  seems  to  be  aggravated  even  with  the  good 
doctor,  though  the  latter  knows  how  entirely  he  can 
trust  him.  '  I  hope  your  letter,'  writes  Dr.  Denton 
on  his  own  behalf  and  Mrs.  Isham's,  '  was  only  ad 
terror  em,  because  you  founde  some  rubbs  in  it  at  the 
first,  and  I  presume  you  wanted  neyther  for  cunninge 
nor  kindnesse  to  reserve  an  hole  to  thrust  Jugge 
(Mrs  Isham)  and  the  Dr  in  before  others.  I  leave  it 
to  your  good  nature  both  to  supply  us  for  the  present, 
and  to  secure  us  for  the  future.  .  .  .  My  wife  and  I 
desire  that  your  servants  and  horses  may  be  the 
carriers  and  protectors  of  two  clogg  bags  of  ours,  one 
is  little  and  light  havinge  only  a  suit  of  clothes  of 
mine  in  it,  the  other  is  of  more  concernment  both  for 
waight,  value  and  use,  it  being  her  childbed  linnen. 
Ffudd  I  presume  may  helpe  protect  it  as  linnen  given 
to  yr  sisters  (therefore  to  be  directed  to  them)  by 
your  mother.  .  .  .' 

There  were  the  five  sisters  to  be  provided  for, 
whose  names  read  like  the  chorus  of  an  old  song. 

o 

There  was  Sue  and  Pen  and  Peg  and  Molly,  and 
unruly  little  Betty,  who  was  only  ten  years  old. 
Except  Susan,  who  was  boarded  with  the  Leekes, 
they  were  all  to  remain  at  Claydon  under  the  care 
of  Mrs.  Alcock,  with  occasional  visits  from  their 
brothers,  and  from  their  uncles  and  aunts  at  Hillesden, 
three  miles  off,  where  a  large  party  of  the  Dentons 
and  Ishams  were  residing. 


176      YERXEY  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

They  were  dependent  on  their  eldest  brother  not 
only  for  protection,  but  for  bare  subsistence.  Their 
own  money  was  locked  up  in  the  Alnage,  which  had 
been  the  best  possible  security  when  their  father  left 
it ;  but  now  '  tis  almost  a  yeare,'  writes  Sir  Ralph 
in  August,  '  since  any  part  of  it  was  paied.  ...  I 
threaten  Dick  Blower  (who  ought  to  pay  it)  to  send 
my  sisters  to  his  house,  and  tell  him  either  hee  or  the 
parish  must  keep  them.' 

Susan,  the  eldest,  was  now  twenty-two.  She  was 
in  delicate  health,  and  was  in  London  in  October  for 
advice.  ' .  .  .  I  am  extremely  yeallow,  my  Aunt 
Leeke  did  think  it  might  prove  the  janders.'  Dr. 
Crag  tells  her  that  '  itt  proseeds  all  from  mallincolly.' 
1 1  did  thinke  as  I  should  never  abinne  sick  with 
that!' 

To  make  matters  worse,  the  poor  girls  were 
quarrelling  amongst  themselves.  '  I  did  spake  to 
Pegge,'  writes  Mrs.  Isham,  '  as  her  mayd  might  sarve 
both  her  &  Pen,  but  she  will  not  let  it  be  so  by  no 
meanes.  ...  I  told  her  now  their  father  and  mother 
was  dead,  they  should  be  a  helper  one  to  the  other 
.  .  .  but  all  would  not  doe.  If  she  will  be  content 
to  take  my  godchild  [Betty]  holy  to  her,  all  but 
wasshing  of  her,  then  Nan  Fudd  [the  nurse]  will 
have  more  time  to  help  Pen,  &  you  need  not  be  att 
any  more  charges  for  a  mayd  for  Pen.' 

At  the  same  time  Pen  writes  her  views  on  the 
proposed  arrangements  at  Claydon.  She  is  to  pay 
8s.  a  week  for  her  diet  out  of  her  allowance,  which 


SIR  RALPH'S   CHOICE  177 

she  inclines  to  think  too  much.  She  is  also  to  find 
clothes  for  the  maid  Bess  Coleman,  It  is  a  curious 
bit  of  human  nature  that  these  poor  girls,  fatherless, 
motherless,  and  penniless,  cannot  forbear  standing- 
out  for  the  services  to  which  each  considers  she  has 
a  right  from  the  maids.  In  this  letter,  however, 
Pen  is  very  humble,  and  says  :  '  I  am  to  intreat  a 
favour,  which  is  if  you  can  lett  Nan  fud  have  soe 
much  time  as  to  come  [comb]  my  head,  for  I  doe 
heare  that  bess  colman  cannot  doe  it,  and  if  I  have 
not  won  which  can  come  a  hed  will,  I  doe  not  know 
what  to  doe  by  reason  that  my  hed  is  soe  tender,  and 
to  smoth  sum  of  my  uppar  lining,  by  reason  that 
bess  colman  cannot  doe  them,  but  I  hope  in  time  to 
bring  hur  to  it.  My  sister  Margearett  will  teake  my 
sister  betty  to  hur,  and  hur  made  shall  dres  hur  and 
heare  hur  hur  booke  and  teach  hur  work.' 

Ralph  and  Mary  had  now  three  children  living. 
Edmund,  who  had  been  made  so  much  of  by  Lady 
Denton  and  Lady  Sussex,  had  grown  past  the 
halcyon  days  of  blue  satin  coats  and  nursery  petting 
into  a  fine  tall  boy  of  nearly  seven  ;  Margaret,  who 
had  taken  the  place  of  her  dead  sisters  in  her  parents' 
hearts,  was  a  year  younger.  There  are  many  allu- 
sions in  the  letters  to  her  beauty  and  the  sweet- 
ness of  her  character  from  witnesses  less  partial  than 
her  devoted  father  and  mother  ;  it  was  settled  that 
Mun  and  Peg  were  to  go  with  them  abroad.  The 
fate  of  the  little  three-year  old  John  was  for  some 
time  undecided  ;  his  nurse,  Nan  Fudd,  and  all  his 

VOL.  II.  N 


178      VERNE Y   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL    AVAR 

maiden  aunts  were  most  anxious  that  he  should 
remain  at  Claydon  ;  he  was  a  sturdy  little  fellow, 
and  his  presence  was  very  welcome  in  the  desolate 
house.  Pen  wrote  to  Lady  Verney  on  the  16th  of 
•October  :'...!  have  noe  good  nuse  to  send  you, 
but  that  your  boy  Jack  is  grone  a  sossy  child,  God 
be  thonked,  and  I  should  be  very  sory  if  ye  letter 
which  my  Aunt  first  intends  to  writ  to  you  and  my 
brother  should  take  affect,  for  I  should  be  loth  to 
part  with  Jack's  good  company,  for  he  is  now  very 
fond  of  mee,  and  I  have  a  very  great  love  for  ye 
child.  .  .  .  My  love  to  Mun  and  Pegg.' 

The  aunts  carried  the  day,  and  it  was  four  years 
before  Mary  saw  her  '  sossy '  boy  again. 

Lady  Sussex  undertook  to  look  to  the  sale  of  the 
horses  after  their  departure.  Sir  Roger  Burgoyne 
was  a  man  of  that  rare  kind  who,  when  his  advice  is 
refused,  will  set  about  to  help  his  friends  in  their 
way,  not  in  his  own.  He  had  thought  Sir  Ralph 
utterly  mistaken  in  refusing  to  sign  the  Covenant, 
but,  when  he  found  his  counsel  was  rejected,  he  did 
his  best  to  help  him  to  find  a  foreign  resting-place  ; 
he  heard  of  a  house  at  Rouen,  and  on  November  7 
Sir  Ralph  decides  '  to  take  the  Chambers  and  other 
roomes,  and  what  else  shall  bee  needful.' 

Meanwhile  matters  in  Parliament  were  growing 
more  and  more  serious.  On  November  7  Sir  Roger 
writes  of  'three  members  that  refused  to  take  the 
•covenant  yeisterday,  for  which  they  are  only  sus- 
pended from  the  Howse  during  the  pleasure  of  the 


SIR  RALPH'S   CHOICE  179 

howse,  and  untill  such  time  as  a  punishment  be  agreed 
uppon  by  the  howse  for  to  be  inflicted  uppon  the 
refusers  of  it,'  Sir  Roger  writes  again  :  l  We  heare 
nothing  concerning  the  three  gentlemen  .  .  .  the 
punishment  is  not  yet  brought  forth,  but  the  Com166 
is  now  in  travaile  ;  I  wish  it  prove  not  a  monster. 
Yeisterday  Mr.  Pierpoint  .  .  .  sent  his  request  to 
the  howse  .  .  .  that  he  desired  theire  leave  for  to  go 
beyond  sea,  in  respect  that  he  cd  not  for  the  present 
take  the  Covenant,  and  that  he  was  very  unwilling 
to  refuse  it,  least  he  should  give  any  occasion  of 
scandall,  and  that  he  will  in  the  meane  time  resigne 
up  all  his  estate  into  the  parliaments  hand  for  to 
dispose  of  as  they  shall  think  fitt.  only  to  allowe  a 
proportion  for  his  wife  and  children  ;  and  this  was 
for  to  express  himselfe  very  much  the  parliaments, 
and  farr  from  neutrality.  It  was  very  much  de- 
bated, but  in  the  end  went  against  him  by  one  voice 
only.' 

Nothing  remained  for  Sir  Ralph  but  to  be  gone 
with  all  speed  if  he  was  to  retain  his  personal  free- 
dom. 

Having  apparently  wound  up  his  business,  pri- 
vate and  political,  he  sits  down  in  utter  grief  and 
weariness,  and  draws  up,  more  suo,  two  melancholy 
documents,  docketed  in  his  usual  tidy  fashion,  as 
expressing  his  wishes — '  If  I  miscarry.' 

He  writes  at  great  length  to  Sir  R.  Burgoyne 
about  the  disposal  of  his  goods — 24  parcells  in  Mr. 
Jonas  Abeeles  custody  in  Rotterdam,  '  27  percells 


180      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   AVAR 

more  of  goods  now  in  Dr.  Peter  Chamberlaine's 
custody  in  the  Hague/  and  '  the  rest  of  my  goods 
remaining  in  your  house  and  in  severall  other 
places  in  London  or  else  where ' — for  the  payment 
of  his  debts  and  the  benefit  of  little  Jack  left  at 
Clay  don. 

'  And  as  for  those  4  assignments  of  my  house  in 
Lincolnes  Inn  feilds — of  Mr.  Mosses  lease,  of  Mr. 
Wayes  Lease,  and  of  the  Privie  seale  for  money  out 
of  the  Alnage,  I  pray  cancell  them  all  foure,  and 
never  let  them  bee  seene,  for  they  were  only  to 
prevent  sequestration.  And  soe  was  that  lease  of  all 
Middle  Claydon,  dated  30  Octob.  last  for  2  yeares 
from  the  first  of  this  Novemb.,  therefore  cancell  this 
also,  and  let  it  not  bee  seene. 

'  R.  v; 

The  second  document  is  as  follows  : 

'  If  I,  my  Wife,  and  my  2  eldest  children,  doe  all 
of  us  miscarry  in  this  jorney,  before  I  come  to 
France.  Let  all  my  money  in  your  custody  bee 
deliverd  to  my  Lady  Sussex  to  bee  by  her  kept,  or 
disposed  as  shee  and  you  shall  thinke  fittest,  for  my 
sonn  John,  and  as  for  that  also  which  you  have 
gotten  to  bee  returned  for  mee  into  Roan  in  France, 
get  it  backe  againe,  and  deliver  it  to  her  likwise  for 
my  sonne  Johns  use,  and  desire  her  to  keepe  that 
wch  I  left  in  her  hands  for  his  use  also. 

'  Only  let  three  hundred  pounds  of  that  which 
was  returned  into  France  bee  deliverd  to  my  Execu- 


SIR  RALPH'S  CHOICE  181 

tors  towards  the  payment  of  my   Debts  and  other 
uses  mentioned  in  my  Will. 

1 14  Novemb  :  1643. 
'  My  Lady  Sussex  hath  my  Will. 
[Signed  in  Sir  Ralph's  hand  :] 
'  Sr  Ralph  Verney 
Lady  Mary  Yerney 

Edmund  Yerney  ) 

„       J    •   Children.' 
Margaret  \  erney  ,1 

This  done,  he  made  a  rough  draft  of  a  letter  to 
Lady  Sussex,  in  which  he  took  a  ceremonious  leave 
of  her,  '  for  I  am  now  hastinge  to  the  shipp,  wch  per- 
happs  may  bee  my  grave.'  Alas !  there  was  no  need 
to  hurry.  There  were  still  many  tedious  weeks  to 
be  got  over,  spent  chiefly,  it  appears,  under  Lady 
Sussex's  hospitable  roof  at  Gorharnbury,  to  which 
loving  farewell  letters  are  addressed  by  different 
members  of  the  family.  '  Xattycock  and  Xannycock  ' 
(the  playful  names  of  happy  Claydon  days  for  Sir 
Nathaniel  and  Anne  Lady  Hobart)  send  10,000 
loves.  His  aunt,  Mrs.  Isham — a  king's  woman  to 
the  core — who  quarrelled  with  his  going  from  the 
opposite  point  of  view  to  Sir  Roger  Burgoyne's, 
writes  that  she  cannot  hear  of  some  clothes  sent  to 
Claydon  for  the  children  : 

'  Now  the  armies  is  aboute,  and  Mr.  J.  [Isham] 
and  I  could  wishe  you  thire  too,  thinkeing  it  the  rites 
[righteous]  cause,  and  in  time  I  hope  youre  mind 
will  change,  if  it  be  in  the  ronge,  or  else  not,  and  in 


182      VERXEY  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   AVAR 

the  mene  while  my  pray[er]  shall  be  as  god  would 
gide  us  to  take  his  side  which  ever  it  be,  and  so  a 
due  wisshing  you  as  well  as  mine  one  [own]  soule.' 

There  is  a  little  brown  scrap  of  paper  at  Claydon 
labelled  '  a  Pass  for  Sir  Ralph  Verney  with  his  Lady, 
etc.,  when  they  retired  into  France  under  the  names 
of  Smith  ' — a  time-honoured  alias,  which  did  good 
service  with  all  refugees,  and  in  later  days  sheltered 
Louis  Philippe  on  his  flight  to  England.  The  pass 
is  addressed  '  To  all  Captain  es  and  others  whom  it 
concernes  : ' 

1  London.  These  are  to  require  you  to  permitt 
and  suffer  Mr.  Ralph  Smith  and  his  wyfe  and  his 
man  and  mayde  to  passe  by  water  to  Lee  in  Essex 
and  to  returne.  So  they  carry  nothinge  of  Danger. 

'November  ye  30th  1643. 
'  By  warrant  of  ye  L(1  Maier, 

'  Jo  :  Beadnege.' 

The  tempestuous  wintry  weather  added  indefinitely 
to  the  sufferings  and  hazards  of  the  journey.  Two  or 
three  weeks  seem  to  have  been  spent  in  vain  attempts 
to  get  across  to  France.  '  My  very  cloathes  were  on 
Board/  writes  Sir  Ralph,  '  and  I  myself  lay  privatly 
in  a  close  corner  ready  to  bee  gonn.'  The  weather  is 
so  bad,  that  their  late  kind  hostess  listens  anxiously 
to  the  wind  howling  amongst  her  trees  at  Gorham- 
bury,  and  thinks  of  them  tossing  about  in  the 
Channel.  The  terrible  voyage  over  at  last,  Sir  Ralph 
wrote  to  her  on  the  last  day  of  the  year,  1643  (new 


SIR  RALPH'S   CHOICE  183 

style),  from  Rotterdam  :  '  This  letter  hath  noe  other 
errand  then  to  acquaint  yo^ur  Ladyshipp  that  from 
the  first  of  this  month  till  Friday  last,  wee  lay  winde 
bound,  in  wch  time  I  spent  all  my  little  stock  of 
patience,  and  then  seeing  noe  hopes  of  better  weather, 
a  shipp  or  two  being  ready  for  Holland,  I  resolved  to 
come  heather.  Wee  had  a  most  tempestuous  and 
violent  winde  for  12  houres,  but  through  God's 
greate  mercy  on  Sunday  night  wee  all  arrived  heere 
in  saifty.  I  humbly  thank  your  Ladyshipp  for  your 
Furre,  certainly  you  did  fore  see  or  prophicie  my 
coming  into  this  cold  country.  My  stay  heere  is  very 
uncertaine.' — Dec.  f-f,  1643. 

He  is  so  one  with  his  wife  that  he  has  never  even 
thought  it  necessary  to  express  her  acquiescence  in 
the  line  he  has  taken  ;  she  has  evidently  been  heart 
and  soul  with  him  at  every  point  of  the  painful 
struggle  ;  she  has  fortified,  cheered,  and  sympathised 
with  him  in  every  step  of  the  sacrifices  that  have 
fallen  upon  both  ;  she  has  never  even  remonstrated  for 
the  sake  of  the  children,  and  after  the  wretched  three 
days  to  Rotterdam,  Mary,  just  arrived  with  her  two 
little  ones  '  in  this  cold  country,'  makes  no  moan, 
but  only  sends  her  humble  service  in  a  postscript  to 
Lady  Sussex,  and  '  desires  her  wearisome  journey 
may  excuse  her  silence.' 

Lady  Sussex  replies  on  January  9,  1644  :  '  I  can- 
not till  you  how  wellcom  your  letter  was  to  mee, 
for  the  windes  was  so  boyoustrous  hear  that  i  had  you 
ofton  in  my  thoughts  with  fear.  .  .  .  the  other  day  I 


184      YERXEY   FAMILY   DTJKING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

harde  all  your  horses  was  will,  your  sarvant  brought 
one  of  your  fine  mares  hether,  i  cannot  yet  put  him 
off.  I  offerde  it  for  £15,  but  they  will  not  give  so 
much,  for  hear  is  but  littil  money  amongst  us,  though 
the  hole  company  be  still  hear  you  lefte.'  In  answer 
to  Mary's  postscript,  she  assures  her  that  her  affec- 
tions are  to  her  as  to  the  dearest  of  her  own,  and  she 
hopes  she  may  find  '  somethinge  of  plesuer  wher  you 
are,  the  gittir  i  hope  will  take  you  up  much,  strive 
for  cherfullnes  with  itt.'  One  wonders  how  the  poor 
guitar  had  fared  during  the  'tempestuous  violent 
weather.' l 

Sir  R.  Burgoyne  congratulates  him  on  '  your 
safe  arrivalls  where  you  are.  though  a  plase  never 
intended,'  and  adds  that  Ralph's  cousin,  Col.  Fiennes, 
is  condemned  to  be  beheaded,  '  but  itt  is  possible  he 
may  live  as  longe  as  you  or  I.' 

After  a  fortnight's  rest  at  Rotterdam,  Sir  Ralph 
is  arranging  to  move  on  to  Rouen  ;  he  sends  '  2G 
percells  of  goods  for  my  use  there,  marked  R.V. 
No.  i.  to  26.'  'in  the  shipp  caled  the  Fortune.'  He 
writes  to  an  agent :  '  I  hope  to  bee  at  Roan  before 
they  come,  but  if  I  should  be  stayed  longer  by  any 
misfortune,  I  must  then  intreate  you  to  take  care  to 
get  them  set  upp  in  some  saife  dry  place. 
The  goods  containe  wering  apparrell,  Linen,  Pick- 
turs,  and  other  Houshold  stuffe,  all  of  it  hath  been 

1  It  had  been  alluded  to  as  'a  very  good  one,  it  was  the  most 
beautiful  that  could  be  found,  for  it  was  of  Ebony  enlajd  with  mother 
pearle,'  bought  at  Paris. 


Sill  HALPH'S   CHOICE  185 

used  ;  there  is  noe  Marchandice  amongst  it.  I  pray 
use  some  meanes  that  the  Searcher  may  not  open  any 
thing  till  I  come  with  the  Keyes,  a  little  money  per- 
happs  will  Blinde  his  Eyes,  or  at  least  make  him  de- 
ferre  the  opening  of  them  till  the  Keyes  come.  .  .  .' 
Custom-house  officers  have  remained  unchanged, 
with  all  that  has  come  and  gone,  since  Sir  Ralph's 
travelling  days. 


VERXEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    BURNING    OF    HILLESDEN    HOUSE. 

'  Rapine  has  yet  took  nought  from  me  : 
But  if  it  please  my  God  I  be 
Brought  at  the  last  to  th'  utmost  bit, 
God  make  me  thankful  still  for  it. 
I  have  been  grateful  for  my  store, 
Let  me  say  grace  when  there's  no  more.' — HEKRICK. 

IN  February  1644,  Sir  Ralph  is  settled  at  Rouen,  but 
not  at  all  reconciled  to  his  lot.  '  The  difficulties  of 
my  last  journeys,  and  the  doubts  and  feares  I  have  for 
my  little  family,  together  with  the  miseries  of  my 
native  country,'  he  writes,  '  have  made  me  soe  con- 
versant with  afflictions,  that  this  World  is  growne 
tedious,  and  life  it  selfe  a  Burden  to  mee. 
This  place  is-  full  of  variety  of  newes  concerning 
England  ;  every  one  reports  as  hee  would  have  it — 
out  of  wch,  I  (that  desire,  and  pray  for  peace)  can 
gather  nothing  but  ye  expectation  of  a  generall 
ruine.'  He  has  had  no  news  of  his  friends  for  four 
months,  '  and  I  have  thought  it  more  than  4  yeares/ 
and  at  last  in  despair  he  sends  a  messenger  to  Eng- 
land to  deliver  his  letters  by  hand,  for  '  these 
unhappie  times  are  soe  full  of  curiosity  and  soe 
inquisitive  after  Letters,  I  canot  say  what  I  desire '  ; 


THE  BURNING   OF  HILLESDEN  HOUSE          187 

and  he  tells  Doll  Leeke  that,  having  heard  nothing 
'  from  your  selfe  or  any  other  friende  neare  you,  I 
have  sent  a  servant  to  see  if  there  bee  any  such  crea- 
tures left  alive.  Therefore  let  me  intreate  you  (if 
you  are  livinge  still)  to  write  and  write  and  write 
againe  and  never  give  over  writing  till  on  e  of  your 
letters  come  with  saifety  to  your  affectionate  servant.' 
To  Nat.  Hobart  he  writes :  '  certainly  the  distractions 
of  these  times  have  buried  as  many  men  alive  as 
dead,'  and  to  his  wife,  '  sweet  Nan,'  he  pours  out  his 
woes  at  still  greater  length  : 

'  I  doubt  you  are  now  in  a  very  ill  condition  for 
want  of  a  playfellow  [meaning  his  wife],  for  these 
distractions  have  banished  all  mirth  out  of  poore 
England,  and  I  thinke  out  of  the  whole  world  too, 
for  where  I  have  beene  there  is  noe  sign  of  it,  but 
perhapp  my  being  soe  seasond  with  afflictions  like 
the  man  whose  continuall  lookeing  through  a  greene 
glasse  madd  all  things  seeme  greene  to  him,  soe 
my  perpetuall  troubles  make  all  things  appear  sad  and 
black  to  mee.  God  of  his  mercy  send  us  peace  that 
wee  may  once  more  enjoy  our  good  old  friendes.  In 
the  meanwhile  I  shall  love  and  pray  for  you.  Sweete 
do  you  the  like  for  me.' 

Copies  of  these  letters,  and  of  others  sent  by  the 
same  hand  to  Mrs.  Eure,  to  '  Brother  Gardiner,'  and 
'  Sister  Gardiner,'  to  '  Sir  Edward  and  Lady  Sidden- 
ham,'  and  to  '  Mr.  Ffountaine,'  a  Royalist  imprisoned 
for  not  paying  taxes  to  the  Parliament,  were  kept  by 
Sir  Ralph  ;  they  are  all  dated  March  7,  1644. 


188      VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

The  news  from  England,  so  ardently  desired,  was 
sad  and  startling  enough  when  it  came.  Hillesden, 
which  had  been  a  second  home  to  all  Dame  Margaret 
Verney's  children,  had"  been  besieged,  taken,  and 
totally  destroyed  by  fire.  Nothing  now  remains  of 


INTERIOR   OF   HILLESDEN   CHURCH. 

(From  a  sketch  by  Lady  Verney.) 

the  pleasant  home  but  a  few  melancholy  looking 
grass  mounds,  the  lines  of  what  was  once  a  '  great 
fair  terrace,'  a  square  piece  of  water  and  a  fine  avenue 
of  large  elms  on  the  crest  of  the  hill,  ending  in  a 
wilderness.  The  singularly  interesting  church,  of 


-A/    <•  s/iniiKi.i     _/,'///,>/!,-  ///./</    ,/f/f/r.  n/f/i  , 


/'//'in     ,i     Jur/tfif    ///'  f  >/,t  //,/,>,!    ./I, 


THE   BURNING   OF  HILLESDEN  HOUSE          189 

the  Decorated  Henry  VII.  period,  stands  in  solitary 
beauty  in  the  heart  of  the  undulating  rich  grass 
country  of  Buckinghamshire. 

The  Dentons  had  played  a  considerable  part  in 
the  county.  The  estate  had  been  granted  by  Edward 
VI.  to  Thomas  Denton,  an  eminent  lawyer,  Treasurer 
of  the  Temple  ;  he  made  it  his  home,  and  represented 
Bucks  in  the  Parliament  of  1554.  A  beautiful  ala- 
baster monument,  with  life  size  recumbent  figures 
of  Sir  Thomas  and  his  wife  Margaret  Mordant,  still 
exists,  but  it  was  much  mutilated  in  the  civil  war. 
Two  generations  later  comes  Sir  Thomas  Denton 
(Margaret  Verney's  father)  —  married  to  Susan 
Temple,  of  Stowe — an  important  man  in  the  county, 
M.P.  for  Bucks  in  James  I.'s  first  three  Parliaments, 
and  then  Knight  of  the  Shire,  and  again  in  the  first  of 
Charles  I.,  when  the  ominous  questions  which  were 
beginning  to  trouble  men's  minds  began  to  show 
themselves  in  their  true  colours. 

Fortunately  for  himself,  old  Sir  Thomas  had  died 
in  1633,  just  before  the  breaking  out  of  strife,  and 
was  succeeded  by  his  son  Alexander,  who  represented 
Buckingham  in  Charles  I.'s  two  first  and  two  last 

o 

Parliaments  ;  and,  '  adhering  to  the  king,  was  a  very 
great  sufferer  for  his  loyalty.'  He  married  Mary 
Hampden,  a  cousin  of  the  great  Buckinghamshire 
squire,  who  stood  up  for  the  liberties  of  the  people,  as 
so  many  of  his  class  have  done  throughout  the  history 
of  England  ;  Mary  was  the  niece  of  Sir  Alexander 
Hampden,  supposed  to  have  been  the  guardian  of 


190      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

John  during  his  minority.  Her  picture,  and  that  of 
her  husband,  Sir  Alexander  Denton,  are  both  at 
€laydon.  His  face  is  that  of  an  amiable,  gentlemanly, 
conscientious,  rather  weak  man,  but  with  an  expres- 
sion of  patient  courage.  He  must  have  been  torn  in 
pieces  by  the  vehemence  with  which  the  different 
members  of  his  family  espoused  the  two  sides  of  the 
quarrel.  His  eldest  son,  John,  was  a  colonel  in  the 
king's  service,  and  was  killed  shortly  after ;  his 
brother  William  was  the  Court  physician  ;  his  sister, 
Mrs.  Isham,  was  an  enthusiastic  Royalist ;  his  brother- 
in-law,  Sir  Edmund  Verney,  had  just  lost  his  life  io 
the  king's  service,  and  young  Edmund  Verney  was 
still  fighting  for  the  cause  ;  while  Ralph  had  taken 
strongly  the  Parliament  side,  and  his  wife's  famous 
cousin,  John  Hampden — their  foremost  man  in  the 
House  of  Commons  and  in  the  field — had  in  June  '43 
died  an  agonising  death  of  his  wounds  at  Chalgrove 
Field  ;  and  Alexander  Hampden  had  been  tried  by 
court-martial  for  complicity  in  a  Royalist  plot  and 
had  lately  died  in  confinement. 

Sir  Alexander  had  recently  lost  both  his  wife  and 
his  mother.  In  the  beginning  of  '44,  besides  his  own 
daughters,  and  his  nieces  who  were  constantly  coming 
over  from  Claydon  to  visit  their  cousins,  his  sisters, 
Mistress  Susan  Denton  and  Mistress  Elizabeth  Isham 
and  her  husband,  were  living  with  him.  Mrs.  Isham 
had  complained  some  months  before  of  having 
soldiers  quartered  upon  them,  but  whether  in  her  own 
house  or  at  Hillesden  does  not  clearly  appear,  they 


THE   BURNING   OF   HILLESDEN   HOUSE          191 

were  evidently  of  the  Parliament  side — '  there  is  one 
hundred  men  in  our  one  House,  which  my  thinkes 
is  very  harde  to  be  put  in  one  house,  and  we  being 
allmost  50  in  family.'  She  had  been  greatly  enraged 
by  the  incivility  of  '  Sir  Pie/  who  seems  to  have 
been  in  command,  the  injury  he  has  done  her  'will 
never  goe  out  of  her  mind  '  ;  from  the  soldiers  they 
have  received  '  no  ronge,'  they  used  them  courteously, 
all  but  Sir  Pie — and  Sir  Pie  has  called  her  a  malig- 
nant ! — she  is  beside  herself  with  indignation,  she  will 
make  her  i  nagge '  wear  her  colours,  to  show  them  to 
all  the  world,  she  would  make  Sir  Pie  wear  her  ribbon 
if  she  could  get  at  him,  but  she  had  only  heard  of  it 
after  his  departure ! 

Sir  Robert  Pye,  a  member  of  Parliament  and  J.P. 
for  Westminster,  a  strong  Presbyterian,  is  alluded  to 
in  Sir  Ralph's  notes.  Col.  Sir  Robert  Pye,  jun.,  was 
particularly  obnoxious  to  Royalists  as  one  of  the  few 
soldiers  who  went  against  the  king,  and  Mrs.  Isham 
considers  her  nephew  responsible  for  what  she  calls 
*  this  Shameful  bisnes.'  But  graver  troubles  were  at 
the  door ;  Sir  Alexander  threw  himself  more  and  more 
earnestly  into  the  struggle.  Hillesden  lay  in  an  im- 
portant position — between  Oxford,  where  the  king 
was  in  garrison,  and  Newport  Pagnell,  which  was 
held  by  the  Parliament  troops  under  Sir  Samuel  Luke, 
with  a  communication  by  Aylesbury,  securing  the 
north  road  from  London.  Sir  Alexander  fortified  his 
house  as  a  point  cfappui,  establishing  a  chain  of  pickets 
of  horse  and  foot  as  far  as  Oxford.  Early  in  1644 


192      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE    CIVIL    WAR 

Colonel  Smith  took  command  of  the  place,  built  barns 
and  stabling  for  cavalry,  and  dug  a  trench  half  a  mile 
in  circumference,  enclosing  the  house  and  church  ; 
far  too  large  an  extent,  as  afterwards  appeared,  for 
any  troops  to  occupy. 

The  country  in  all  directions  was  swept  by  forage 
parties  from  both  sides,  and  one  day  Colonel  Smith, 
with  a  body  of  troopers,  carried  off  a  drove  of  cattle, 
with  money  and  other  valuables,  belonging  to  a 
tenant  of  Mr.  Hampden.  When  they  reached  Hilles- 
den  a  violent  dispute  arose  as  to  the  partition  of  the 
spoil ;  Major  Amnion,  '  an  uncommon  frenzy  man,' 
claimed  all  the  horses  and  a  large  share  of  the  booty 
for  his  troop.  A  general  mutiny  took  place,  and 
the  major,  who  had  imprisoned  several  soldiers, 
was  obliged  to  release  them,  and  give  up  his  claim. 
This  was  not  the  only  ill  consequence  of  the  expedi- 
tion. The  owner  of  the  cattle  arrived  at  Hillesden  to 
ransom  them,  probably  much  annoyed  at  having  been 
attacked  from  a  house  belonging  to  a  relation  of  his 
landlord.  He  was  made  to  pay  £80  for  his  stock  ; 
upon  which,  indignant  at  his  loss,  he  claimed  com- 
pensation of  £160  from  the  Parliamentary  comman- 
ders at  Aylesbury,  which  first  showed  them  the 
danger  of  permitting  so  strong  a  Royalist  garrison  to 
hold  Hillesden.  A  surprise  was  attempted  by  a  force 
of  300  horse  and  foot,  but  unsuccessfully  ;  upon 
which  Sir  S.  Luke  prepared  for  a  regular  attack  with 
2,000  men,  collected  from  Aylesbury,  Northampton, 
and  the  associated  counties.  One  half  of  these 
marched,  under  the  command  of  Colonel  Cromwell, 


THE  BUENING  OF  HILLESDEN  HOUSE          193 

to  Steeple  Claydon,  where  they  encamped  for  the 
night  around  a  barn,  now  marked  by  an  inscription. 
The  Royalist  garrison  had  meantime  been  hard  at 
work  at  Hillesden.  They  had  summoned  all  the 
country  people,  manufactured  a  wooden  cannon  from 
an  elrn  tree,  stoutly  hooped  with  iron,  and  had  ob- 
tained five  small  pieces  of  ordnance  from  Oxford, 
with  ammunition,  all  of  which  were  stored  in  the 
church.  Nearly  1,000  labourers  were  employed  to 
complete  the  trenches  and  throw  up  a  mound  on 
which  to  mount  the  artillery,  which  would  have  made 
the  place  safe  against  any  sudden  attack.  But  it 
was  too  late,  and  seeing  themselves  unexpectedly 
surrounded  on  all  sides,  they  sent  out  a  flag  of  truce. 
Finding,  however,  that  they  could  obtain  no  terms 
short  of  unconditional  surrender,  Colonel  Smith  pro- 
posed to  defend  the  works ;  but  the  ditch  was  only 
knee  deep  in  places,  and  the  assailants  overwhelming 
in  numbers  :  they  soon  obtained  a  footing,  the  defen- 
ders were  obliged  to  retire,  some  into  the  house, 
others  to  the  church.  A  second  assault  was  made, 
and  the  church  carried — marks  of  the  struggle  being 
still  seen  in  bullet-holes  in  the  old  oak  door  of  the 
church,  and  marks  of  shot  in  the  plaster — when 
Colonel  Smith,  seeing  the  hopelessness  of  any  further 
defence,  surrendered  on  promise  of  quarter.  All  the 
prisoners,  and  amongst  them  Sir  Alexander  and  his 
brother,  were  marched  off  to  Padbury,  a  village  some 
three  miles  off,  '  where  they  passed  the  night  in  great 
discomfort.'  The  next  day  they  were  taken  to  New- 

VOL.  II.  O 


194      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DUEING   THE   CIVIL   AVAR 

port  Pagnell.  It  is  difficult  to  ascertain  the  exact 
truth  about  the  treatment  of  the  garrison,  consisting 
•of  263  men  ;  the  King's  News  journal  accuses  Sir  S. 
Luke  of  great  barbarity.  The  parliamentary  re- 
porter admits  the  death  of  thirty-one  men. 

The  morning  after  the  surrender,  a  trooper,  striking 
his  musket  against  the  wainscoting  of  one  of  the 
rooms,  discovered  a  large  sum  of  money  ;  further 
search  was  made,  and  more  treasure  found  concealed, 
particularly  under  the  lead  roof.  Later  in  the  day 
came  news  of  the  advance  of  a  great  body  of  troops 
from  Oxford,  and  it  was  determined  to  evacuate  the 
place.  Sir  S.  Luke  withdrew  to  Newport,  Colonel 
Cromwell  to  Buckingham  ;  the  house  was  set  fire  to 
and  burnt  almost  to  the  ground. 

A  touching  letter  from  Sir  Alexander  to  his 
steward  has  been  preserved,  written  at  Newport  after 
he  had  heard  of  the  destruction  of  his  house  : 

'  Blagrove,  I  woulde  have  you  send  mee  by  Tyler 
that  bag  of  silver  w11  Berney  left  wth  you  long  since 
and  Scale  it  upp.  Let  him  bring  it  to  mee.  Bid  him 
also  take  a  viewe  of  ye  house  y*  was  burnt  upon  Tues- 
day. y1  1  may  have  some  certayne  information  of  w* 
destruction  is  fallen  upon  mee,  and  whether  it  bee 
possible  to  rebuild  those  walls  that  are  standing  if  ye 
distractions  of  ye  times  should  settle.  I  thancke  God 
I  am  yet  in  health  notw^tanding  these  many  mis- 
fortunes are  fallen  upon  mee,  and  my  comfort  is  I 
knowe  myself  not  guilty  of  any  fault. 

'  Newport,  March  6th,  164f.' 


THE  BURNING  OF  HILLESDEN  HOUSE          195 

It  is  a  brave,  simple,  spirited  letter  ;  he  was  not 
crushed  by  his  losses,  and  intent  only  on  doing  his 
best  to  set  things  right  once  more. 

He  was  afterwards  removed  to  London,  and  com- 
mitted to  the  Tower  on  March  15,  whence  he  wrote  a 
few  days  later  to  Sir  Ralph  : 

'  Sr, — I  was  gladd  to  see  your  servant,  allthough  in 
a  place  I  have  not  till  nowe  beene  used  unto  the  tower 
of  London  whither  I  was  comitted  uppon  Saturday 
last,  beeinge  taken  at  my  owne  howse  by  Liuetenant 
Generall  Cromwell  with  some  4,000  horse  and  foote 
with  him,  I  only  cominge  accidentally  thither  some 
2  dayes  before  to  remove  my  familye,  the  kinge  havinge 
placed  a  garrison  there.  .  .  . ' 

He  writes  again  : 

'  Those  officers  that  commanded  that  place  were 
taken  and  some  150  men,  and  some  19  killed  on  both 
sydes,  the  howse  pilladged,  all  my  cattell  and  wine 
taken  away,  my  house  the  next  day  burnt  downe  to 
the  grounde  and  but  one  house  left  standinge  in  that 
end  of  the  toune.  Captayne  Tho.  Verney  taken  pri- 
soner that  came  only  to  see  his  sisters,  and  all  my 
own  servants  are  as  yett  detayned.  It  endamaged 
me  at  the  least  £16,000.  .  .  .  My  children  and  neeces 
not  fayrly  used  yett  noe  imodest  action,  and  the 
resydue  of  my  family  are  yett  at  Sir  Ralph  Verney 's 
howse.'  Pen  Verney,  who  with  Ralph's  other  sisters 
was  in  the  house,  wrote  :  *  When  it  pleased  God 
to  lay  that  great  affliction  on  my  uncle,  I  was  more 
consarned  for  him,  but  I  did  stand  so  great  a  los  in 

o  2 


196      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

my  own  particular  that  it  has  been  a  half  undoing  to 
me.  We  were  not  shamefully  used  in  any  way  by 
the  souldiers,  but  they  took  everything  and  I  was  not 
left  scarce  the  clothes  of  my  back '  ;  and  Mrs.  Isham 
described  afterwards  how  '  Hillesden  parke  pales  be 
every  one  up  and  burned  or  else  carried  away,  and 
the  Denton  children  like  to  beg.' 

Sir  Alexander  writes  again  on  the  19th  of  April : 
'  I  perceve  you  have  received  my  last,  you  may  see 
what  I  suffered  in  2  dayes,  cannot  be  but  allmost 
every  mans  fortune  by  degrees,  if  these  most  unhappe 
tymes  continue  but  a  short  tyme.  I  here  the  kinge 
hath  sent  a  warrant  to  gather  upp  all  those  rents  about 
our  county  latelye  sequestred  (which  are  very  many, 
some  of  the  principall  I  will  give  you,  Twiford,  Stowe, 
Fulbrook,  Quainton,  Doddershall,  with  many  more) 
and  a  clause  in  it,  in  case  the  tennants  bringe  them 
not  in  by  this  day,  they  must  abide  the  mercy  of  the 
soldiers  ;  this  warrant  beeinge  sent  to  the  House  my 
lord  Gen.  was  desyred  to  send  horse  into  the  county 
to  defend  them  ;  which  will  prove  the  greatest  mis- 
cheefe  is  to  me  a  great  question.  I  feare  it  may  be 
the  cause  to  draw  the  whole  body  of  both  armies 
into  these  parts.  Now  I  thinke  this  sad  story  wilbe 
enough  to  give  you  a  breakfast  without  any  more 
kickshawes,  and  if  france  cann  afford  me  such  an 
other  dish  of  disasters,  send  it  me  that  I  may  compare 
them,  but  I  will  close  your  stomach  with  a  cawdle  of 
comfort,  which  is,  we  are  in  greate  hope  by  the  next 
you  shall  hear  that  propositions  of  peace  wilbe  sent 


THE  BURNING  OF  HILLESDEN  HOUSE          197 

unto  the  kinge.  I  pray  God  grant  there  may  be 
nothinge  putt  into  that  pott  may  spoyle  the  whole 
mess,  my  service  to  your  bedfellowe  and  I  shall  ever 
rest. — Yours  truly  to  serv  you, 

1  ALEXANDER  DENTON.' 

The  sufferings  of  the  Dentons  at  Hillesden  were 
sad  enough,  but  the  account  which  Sir  Roger  Bur- 
goyne  indignantly  gives  Sir'  Ralph  of  another  house 
taken  by  the  Royalists  about  the  same  time,  contrasts 
painfully  with  the  moderation  shown  by  Cromwell's 
soldiers.  '  I  must  acquaint  you,'  he  writes  on 
March  21,  '  with  the  exactest  peice  of  cruelty  that 
ever  I  heard  or  read  of :  that  Hopton  Castle  in 
Shropshire,  which  is  Mr.  Wallop's  Castle,  of  the  house 
of  Commons,  being  straitly  beseiged  by  the  enemy, 
was  delivered  up  by  our  souldiers  upon  condition  of 
quarter  and  safe  marching  away,  but  no  sooner  had 
the  enemy  power  over  them,  but  they  most  miserably 
hacked  and  hewed  them,  and  afterwards  most  devil- 
lishly  thrust  them  into  a  pitt  and  buried  them  all  a 
live,  they  were  about  27  men.' 

Ralph  writes  to  his  brother  Edmund  on  the  same 
day  :  '  Suffer  me  to  tell  you  how  much  I  am  afflicted 
for  the  ruine  of  sweet  Hillesden  and  the  distresses 
that  hapened  to  my  aunt  and  sisters.  God  knowes 
what  is  become  of  my  unhappie  brother  that  was 
there  taken.  ...  I  know  all  that  side  hates  him  and 
I  feare  they  will  make  him  feell  the  weight  of  their 
displeasure ;  from  wch  misfortune  God  in  mercie 


198      VERNEY   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

keepe  you  and  poore  Harry — my  deare  brother  fare- 
well.' 

After  the  burning  of  Hillesden  House,  Tom  Verney 
was  a  prisoner  for  many  weeks,  part  of  the  time  in 
St.  John's  College,  Cambridge,  whence  he  writes  a 
furious  letter  to  Roades,  in  great  indignation  at  his  not 
having  sent  him  an  additional  sum  which  he  pretends 
that  Ralph  had  meant  that  he  should  receive,  lest  he 
should  want  in  prison.  It  is  a  curious  epistle,  begin- 
ning, 'Governour,'  and  complaining  of  having  received 
no  answer  to  three  or  four  letters — all  probably  on 
the  same  subject !  He  goes  on,  '  ffor  shame  ;  rous  up 
your  drowsye  and  decaying  spiritts  that  the  world 
may  not  say  we  have  a  foole  to  our  governour.  Sir 
Ralphe  is  liable  to  the  censure  of  the  world,  that  he 
being  a  wise  man  should  chuse  a  foole  to  govern  his 
brothers  and  sisters.'  And  in  a  later  letter  he  says, 
1 1  shall  find  a  freind  that  will  furnish  mee  with  as  much 
as  will  bring  me  to  Claydon  :  then  I  hope  to  have  my 
peniworths.  It  shall  not  be  your  great  language  or 
your  fleareing  looks  that  shall  any  wayes  daunt  mee.' 
To  Ralph  he  writes  in  a  more  humble  strain,  entreat- 
ing for  a  loan  of  201.  to  make  up  his  ransom,  his 
mother-in-law  being  ready  to  lend  the  rest :  '  poverty 
and  imprisonment  hath  made  me  almost  impudent.' 
Considering  that  two  former  loans  were  yet  unpaid, 
it  could  hardly  be  wondered  at  if  Ralph  refused  his 
request,  but  he  does  send  him  a  few  pounds  to  clear 
him  of  debt,  so  with  the  help  of  Mrs.  Tom  Verney's 
friends  the  captive  was  soon  after  set  free. 


THE  BURNING  OF  HILLESDEN  HOUSE          199 

The  tragedy  at  Hillesden  was  relieved  by  two 
romantic  love  stories  '  gilding  the  dusky  edge  of  war/ 
One  of  the  officers  in  the  attacking  force  fell  in  love 
with  Sir  Alexander's  sister,  while  the  colonel  com- 
manding the  defence  fell  in  love  with  his  daughter. 
The  former  story  came  to  a  rapid  denouement, 
almost  before  the  firing  had  ceased ;  the  second  a  few 
months  later,  amidst  the  grim  surroundings  of  the 
Tower  of  London.  The  first  was  quite  a  middle-aged 
romance.  Miss  Susan  Denton,  whom  the  young  nieces 
around  her  must  have  considered  a  confirmed  old  maid, 
roused  a  tender  passion  in  the  martial  breast  of  a  rough 
captain  of  the  besieging  forces — one  Jaconiah,  or 
Jeremiah,  Abercombie,  whose  very  name  shows  that  he 
was  a  Republican  and  a  Covenanter.  No  particulars 
are  given  ;  whether  he  was  sorry  for  the  poor  ruined 
ladies,  who  were  turned  out  in  such  a  miserable 
plight,  and  that  pity  was  akin  to  love,  so  that  he  pro- 
posed to  take  her  and  her  burdens  upon  his  own 
shoulders,  while  she  '  did  love  him  as  he  did  pity 
her/  there  is  no  means  of  knowing.  The  courtship 
must  have  been  carried  on  during  the  two  or  three 
hours  before  the  poor  distressed  little  group  of  women 
and  children  walked  off  across  the  fields,  weeping  as 
they  went,  to  take  refuge  at  Claydon.  Captain 
Jaconiah  was  not  allowed  a  quiet  moment  for  his 
love-making ;  three  days  later,  March  6,  John 
Denton,  Sir  Alexander's  brother,  writes  :  '  My  sister 
Susan,  her  new  husband  Capt.  Abercromy  is  quartered 
at  Addington,  and  I  feare  to  the  indanger  of  bringing 


200      VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

that  house  into  the  condicione  of  Hillesden.'  In  June 
he  is  still  '  a  pone  sarvis,'  but,  says  Mrs.  Isham — 
*  My  sis  :  Susans  marage  is  to  be  accomplished  very 
suddnly  if  her  captine  be  not  killed,  it  tis  him  as  did 
fust  plunder  Hilsdon,'  certainly  a  curious  form  of  intro- 
duction to  his  wife's  relations.  He  was  not  penniless, 
and  Mrs.  Isham  wrote  again  :  '  The  capt.  his  land  is 
in  Irerland,  he  is  half  Skotts,  half  Irish.  I  think  fue 
of  her  frinds  lik  it,  but  if  she  hath  not  him  she  will 
never  have  any,  it  is  gone  so  far.' 

The  end  of  the  Jaconiah  episode  was  as  sudden  as 
its  birth  :  in  the  next  year  Henry  Verney  wrote  : 
1  Your  ante's  husband  (Captain  Abercrombie)  was 
killed  this  week  by  a  party  from  Borestall  and  buried 
at  Hillesden.'  So  the  covenanting  captain  was  quietly 
laid  among  the  long  series  of  Church  and  Royalist 
Dentons  in  their  beautiful  old  churchyard. 

Sir  Alexander  never  regained  his  liberty  ;  he  was 
removed  on  his  own  petition  to  Lord  Petre's  house, 
used  for  prisoners  when  the  Tower  was  very  full. 
Mrs.  Isham  sends  a  pitiful  account  of  him  a  few 
months  before  his  death,  she  being  with  her  husband 
in  the  same  prison.  Some  of  the  prisoners  hoped  to 
get  leave  to  go  out  for  a  time,  but  he  is  not  likely  to 
be  of  the  number,  '  and  then  I  knoe  he  will  not  lett 
me  goe,  for  he  doth  say  as  he  should  be  half  dead  if 
myselfe  was  not  with  him.  I  must  confese  he  hath 
had  anofe  to  a  broke  any  mans  hart,  but  that  God 
hath  given  him  a  great  dell  of  pachance,  for  on  the 
seven  of  Augst  last  his  sunn  John  was  slaine  within 


THE   BURNING  OF  HILLESDEN  HOUSE          201 

a  worke  att  Abtone  [Abingdon],  as  Sr.  Will  Wallers 
forces  had  made.  .  .  To  tell  you  how  it  was  done  I 
shall  want  the  wordes  of  wore,  but  nevor  did  I  heare 
of  a  more  bravor  pice  of  sarvis  done,  and  if  his  life  had 
bine  spared,  the  hole  Towne  had  bine  his  one.  They 
came  on  so  Galiently  as  there  tooke  ye  Pickes  out  of  the 
Enemies  handes,  and  then  a  drak l  wente  of  and  kiled 
him  in  the  Plase  and  7  Bollets  was  found  in  his  Brest, 
and  beside  himselfe  thay  was  but  7  or  8  kiled,  none  of 
note  but  him,  for  thay  all  retreted  when  thay  see  him 
fall  for  he  commanded  in  chefe.  This  you  must  thinke 
is  a  grete  treble  to  his  father  as  did  love  him  so 
well.' 

Sir  Alexander,  writing  in  March,  had  mentioned 
that  '  Jack  some  6  weekes  since  was  shott  thro  we  the 
thygh  endeavouring  to  gett  [?]  my  house  then  in 
the  parliaments  possession.'  Another  account  says 
that  Colonel  John  Denton  received  no  less  than  thirty 
wounds — '  that  good  young  man  whose  very  enemies 
lament  him.'  Sir  Ralph  wrote  to  Sir  Alexander, 
full  of  sympathy  in  his  loss  :  *  I  must  ever  account 
it  as  on  of  my  greatest  and  particular  afflictions  to 
loose  the  man  that  you  and  I  did  love  soe  well,  but 
this  is  our  comfort,  hee  lived  and  died  most  gallantly, 
and  questionlesse  is  now  most  happy  ;  kings  must 

1  A  drake  was  a  brass  field  gun  used  in  the  civil  war,  9  ft.  long, 
weight  143  cwt.,  carrying  a  51bs.  shot  and  a  charge  of  4  or  51bs.  of 
powder.  See  a  paper  by  Colonel  Hime,  R.A.,  on  Field  Artillery  of 
the  Great  Rebellion.  Proceedings  of  R.A.  Institution,  vol.  6,  1870. 
Many  old  pieces  of  artillery  were  named  from  animals,  a  dragon  was  a 
carbine ;  culverin  came  from  the  French  couleuvre,  an  adder  ;  a  drake 
and  a  saker  from  birds. 


202      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

pile  upp  there  crownes  at  the  gates  of  the  grave,  and 
lay  downe  there  septers  at  the  feet  of  Death,  then  let 
not  us  poore  subjects  thinke  (or  desire)  to  bee  ex- 
empted :  length  of  Daies  doth  oftner  make  our  sinns 
the  greater  then  our  lives  the  better,  then  let  not  us 
repine  at  that  good  hand  of  God  that  (observing  his 
inocency)  snacht  him  from  this  wicked  world  to 
reigne  with  him  for  ever,  but  rather  let  us  waite  with 
patience  till  our  owne  change  comes.'  A  few  days 
later  he  writes  :  '  To  you  and  mee  (being  now  made 
conversant  with  sorrowes  and  misfortunes),  it  must 
needes  bee  good  and  joyfull  tidings  to  bee  assured  a 
day  will  come  (and  non  knowes  how  soone),  not  only 
to  put  a  period  to  all  our  miseries  heere,  but  to  crowne 
us  with  future  glory,  and  bring  us  to  our  old  and  best 
friends,  (for  new  are  like  the  times,  full  of  uncon- 
stancie  and  falsehood),  with  whom  wee  shall  (without 
compliment)  perpetually  remaine  to  on  another  as  I 
am  to  you.' 

Sir  Alexander's  letters  from  the  Tower  are  full  of 
public  affairs  and  the  movements  of  the  armies,  show- 
ing that  he  was  well  supplied  with  news.  The  deaths 
and  the  troubles  of  all  sorts  are  so  fully  told  in  the 
letters,  that  it  is  tantalising  to  hear  so  little  of  other 
matters  ;  one  would  so  gladly  know  how  Colonel 
Smith,  who  had  been  taken  prisoner  with  the  Dentons, 
and  had  been  with  them  confined  in  the  Tower,  was 
able  to  carry  on  his  courtship  of  Margaret  Denton. 
Sir  Roger  Burgoyne  calls  him  'young  Smith  that 
once  was  of  the  house  of  Commons,  but  now  a 


TPIE   BURNING  OF  HILLESDEN  HOUSE          203 

Collonell/  and  it  must  have  been  a  comfort  to  poor 
Sir  Alexander  in  his  captivity,  that  his  daughter  had 
found  a  protector.  Mrs.  Isham,  after  telling  Sir  Ralph 
of  John  Denton's  death,  adds  on  August  15  :  '  One 
sunne  is  ded,  yet  another  sune  in  lawe  he  hath  this 
munth  or  5  wickes  for  Coronall  Smyth  is  mareyed  to 
his  dafter  [daughter]  Margrete,  and  I  thinke  will  be 
a  happy  mach  if  these  ill  times  doth  not  hindre  it,  but 
he  is  still  a  Prisenor.  So  you  may  thinke  itt  a  bolde 
venter,  but  if  these  times  hold,  I  thinke  thay  will  be 
non  men  lefte  for  woman.'  Later  on  Colonel  Smith 
made  his  escape,  and  his  bride,  Mrs.  Isham  and  Susan 
Verney  were  imprisoned  in  September  on  the  charge 
of  aiding  and  abetting  him.  Mrs.  Isham  writes  to  Sir 
Ralph  :  '  When  I  was  in  prison,  thaye  would  not  lett 
me  have  so  much  as  a  Pene  and  Incke,  but  all  of  us 
was  innocence  Prisnors,  and  so  came  out  without 
examing,  for  none  could  have  a  worde  against  us ; 
your  Sis  Susan,  and  my  nice  neece,  was  my  feelore 
Prissnors,  and  for  our  owne  passones  [persons]  noe 
hurt,  only  our  purssis  payd  the  feeses  ;  much  in  gage 
we  be  to  youre  Bro  :  Tom  as  and  his  wife,  for  thay 
did  more  for  us  than  all  our  friends  beside.' 

There  had  been  some  question  of  moving  them, 
but  Mrs.  Isham  does  not  know  where  it  is  to  '  more 
than  the  Summer  Islands,'  and  the  company  would 
be  only  prisoners  and  strangers  to  her  ;  they  can 
receive  and  forward  letters,  but  '  the  gardes  will  lucke 
into  them.' 

Susan  also  gives  him  her  account  of  it  on  October 


204      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

10 :  '  I  make  noe  question,  butt  you  have  hard  y* 
I  was  taken  prisoner,  for  bess  tells  mee  y*  she  writ 
you  word  of  itt.  I  am  now  released,  butt  this  day  my 
keeper  was  wtb  mee  to  tell  mee  y*  the  iudg  advocate 
was  angry  that  I  was  released  wthout  his  knowleg, 
butt  I  have  promised  to  appeare  before  him  when  he 
will  send  for  mee.  I  am  confident  y*  he  will  never 
looke  after  mee  further.  I  was  kept  prisoner  8  days, 
so  was  the  rest  of  my  company,  butt  never  examined, 
the  tooke  mee  only  upon  suspision :  ther  was  nothing 
could  be  brought  against  mee  :  for  I  was  noe  more 
giulty  of  what  I  was  accused  of  then  you  ware  :  itt 
was  thought  that  I  had  a  hand  in  helping  of  my  new 
coson  out  of  prison,  butt  indeed  I  had  nott — I  hope 
that  I  shall  never  under  take  to  doe  any  shuch  thing 
wheare  by  I  may  bring  my  selfe  into  trouble,'  she 
adds  with,  a  candid  selfishness,  transparent  in  its  sim- 
plicity ! 

On  January  9th,  1645,  Sir  Ralph's  letters  from 
home  tell  him  that  '  there  is  no  news  stirring,  but 
that  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  is  to  be  be- 
headed to-morrow  upon  Tower  Hill,  and  that  Sir 
Alexander  Denton  dyed  in  Peterhouse  on  New  Year's 
day  of  a  feaver.'  He  was  only  forty-eight,  but  his 
health  at  last  gave  way,  just  when  his  friends  expected 
to  accomplish  his  release.  Henry  writes  :  '  Our  poore 
and  dear  freind  Sir  Allaxsander  good  man  is  dead,  a 
dyed  one  newersday,  a  is  tomorow  [Jan.  3]  caryedto 
his  owne  church,'  all  the  Verneys  lament  him,  even 
Tom  writes  that  '  our  dear  friend  Sir  A.  D.  is  dead.' 


THE   BURNING  OF  HILLESDEN   HOUSE          205- 

Sir  Alexander  was  a  great  loss  to  Ralph  ;  he  reviews 
the  recent  troubles  in  his  family,  of  which  '  the  chiefe 
Pillars  are  already  snatcht  away  by  death'  ;  on 
January  24  he  writes  about  '  the  sadd  news  of  the 
death  of  my  poore  Uncle,  who  within  8  or  9  months 
last  past,  did  mee  more  curtesies  and  expressed 
more  freindshipp  and  affection  to  me,  then  in  all  his 
life  before.  ...  I  have  such  unkinde  (nay  I  may 
say  unnaturall)  letters,  from  some  soe  neare  mee,  that 
truly,  did  I  not  see  it  under  there  owne  Hands.  .  .  . 
I  could  not  have  credited  that  such  a  totall  decay  of 
freindshipp  and  common  honesty  could  possibly  have 
beene  amoungst  those  that  profess  Christianity.'  '  I 
am  not  naturally  suspitious,'  he  says  another  time, 
1  butt  these  trying  times  have  discovered  so  much 
knavery  in  soe  many  men  that  heretofore  apeared 
examples  of  piety,  that  hereafter  I  shall  account  too 
much  credulity  a  fault.' 

There  had  been  a  rumour  that  Claydon  House 
was  threatened  to  be  burnt,  Sir  Roger  Burgoyne 
wrote  :  '  I  hope  God  in  his  mercy  will  take  that  man 
[that  intends  it]  out  of  the  world  before  he  be  guilty 
of  so  devilish  a  sin  as  to  wrong  so  innocent  a  man.  If 
God  shall  please  to  let  that  devil  loose  I  must  account 
it  as  an  affliction  intended  from  above  for  me,  no 
personal!  affliction  being  bad  enough.  ...  I  have  not 
heard  of  any  such  usage  that  Sr  W.  Uvedall  hath  had 
to  be  plundered,  but  I  am  sure  it  is  not  with  the 
approbation  of  the  parliament.  As  for  souldiers  I 
know  not  what  they  may  do,  for  I  could  never  trust 


206      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

them.'  The  hand  of  the  Parliament  was  heavy  also 
in  other  directions ;  even  a  poor  little  sermon  did  not 
go  unpunished.  Sir  Roger  writes  :  '  Ther  was  last 
Thursday  a  very  bad  sermon  preached  neere  Ux- 
bridge  by  one  Mr.  Love,  a  young  man,  which  gave  a 
great  deale  of  offence,  but  the  man  is  imprisoned  for 
it.'  Liberty  of  opinion  was  as  little  allowed  by  the 
Parliament  as  by  the  king. 

On  all  sides  Ralph  receives  tidings  of  distress  ; 
some  lines  attributed  to  Charles  I.  entirely  expressed 
the  feelings  of  Royalists  like  Mrs.  Isham  at  this 
time  : 

Plunder  and  murder  are  the  kingdom's  laws, 
Tyranny  bears  the  title  of  taxation, 
Revenge  and  robbery  are  reformation, 
Oppression  gains  the  name  of  sequestration. 

That  unfortunate  woman  is  continually  in  trouble, 
her  husband  being  in  prison  for  a  long  time,  appa- 
rently for  being  unable  to  pay  the  heavy  exactions 
which  were  now  laid  upon  the  land,  and  she  cannot 
approve  of  his  exchanging  with  another  prisoner,  as 
that  would  prove  him  a  '  delinqute,'  as  she  says.  In 
the  plundering  and  burning  of  Hillesden  House  she 
lost  not  only  money  and  clothes,  but  bonds  and  other 
business  papers,  which  increased  their  money  diffi- 
culties. She  presses  Ralph  to  repay  the  loan  she 
made  to  his  father,  or  to  give  her  security  on  certain 
lands  near  Claydon,  fearing  in  case  of  his  death  that 
she  should  lose  it.  Money  he  has  none,  and  he  can- 
not grant  her  the  particular  land  in  question,  while 
she  on  her  side  objects  to  the  security  he  offers  on 


THE   BURNING   OF  HILLESDEX  HOUSE          207 

another  part  of  his  estate,  because  it  is  in  a  disturbed 
district.  Poor  Ralph  protests  that  as  all  his  land  is 
within  about  ten  miles  there  is  not  much  to  choose  in 
that  matter,  and  he  thinks  her  fears  for  the  future 
security  of  the  loan  very  unjust.  '  I  am  sorry  to  find 
such  harsh  and  straing  conclusione  drawn  from  bare 
conjecture,  and  those  against  one  that  from  his  very 
childhood  hath  been  her  faithful  servant.'  The  miser- 
able condition  of  the  poor  lady  may  partly  excuse 
her.  In  one  letter  she  writes  :  '  Through  carlisnes  of 
my  husband,  and  the  house  being  burned,  he  hath 
nothing  to  show  for  Ratcliff;  and  so  it  will  be  seased 
on  as  a  chattell  and  go  away  from  him,  and  wee  to 
lose  all  as  he  had  .  .  .  and  now  that  as  you  have 
of  mine  if  you  should  die,  would  be  in  the  like  con- 
dishune,  for  I  have  only  your  bond  for  it,  and  as  times 
goe  no  debts  could  be  paid  as  is  upon  land,  and  soe 
I  may  goe  a  beggin  without  something  is  paid  me 
yearly.  I  should  a  thought  you  would  never  refused 
me  lande  for  money,  but  I  remember  your  anser  was 
when  you  refused  Claydon  becase  it  should  holy  be 
your  sons.  For  our  clothes  we  must  sew  fig  leves 
together,  we  lost  all  by  fier,  and  since  I  have  had 
but  one  gown.  I  could  wish  as  it  would  last  me  forty 
yeres  as  the  childrenes  of  Iserells  did,  but,  however, 
now  I  am  come  to  town,  I  have  not  where  withal  to 
buye  another.' 

As  her  troubles  increase  her  language  becomes  more 
and  more  involved  :  '  blame  me  not  if  I  press  you  to 
take  some  course  .  .  .  should  you  misskary,  and  you 


208      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

are  but  mortall,  and  since  you  must  die  att  one  time, 
you  may  die  att  any  time,  but  the  Lord  sende  you  a 
good  and  a  Longe  Life  hear  as  when  ever  you  goe 
...  it  will  be  never  the  sooner,  for  my  sending  to 
you.' 

In  another  letter  she  writes  to  tell  Sir  Ralph  of 
the  losses  of  Mr.  Aris,  of  Hillesden,  a  relative  of  the 
rector  of  Claydon  :  '  Nic  Arise's  House  by  axcidance 
on  Ester  Even  was  burned  downe  to  the  grounde, 
and  all  his  goods  in  it  with  his  money,  in  halfe  an 
houer,  himselfe  beinge  not  att  home  ;  some  burnt  by 
chance  and  others  on  purpos,  as  I  thinke  by  winter  we 
shall  not  have  a  House  to  be  in.  The  Lorde  mende 
us  and  put  an  ende  to  these  unhapy  times  or  ellse 
par  pare  us  for  to  in  joye  a  House  not  made  with 
handes  Eternall  in  the  Heavenes.'  After  all,  good 
Aunt  Isham  had  not  lost  interest  in  this  world's 
affairs,  for  she  dates  this  letter  in  a  postscript — '  ye 
fust  of  May  but  never  so  dule  an  one,  and  so  fue 
chases  [chaises]  in  hide  Parke  as  I  heare ! ' 

Eventually  her  husband  regains  his  liberty,  and 
she  writes  more  cheerfully  that  they  hope  to  be  to- 
gether again,  though  without  half  a  guinea  between 
them. 

Some  250  years  have  passed  since  the  stormy  days 
of  the  Hillesden  siege.  We  hear  that  in  1648  '  they 
are  building  there  againe  and  intend  to  sett  upp  a 
little  house  where  the  old  one  stood.'  Hillesden 
House  rose  from  its  ashes  and  was  described  in  the 
succeeding  century  as  a  'good  old  house'  with  'a 


THE   BURNING   OF  HILLESDEN   HOUSE          209 

very  bold  terrace.'  This  house  has  in  its  turn  been 
destroyed,  so  completely  that  not  a  trace  of  it  remains. 
Mrs.  Isham  has  passed  beyond  the  reach  of  vexatious 
creditors  and  '  souldgers ' — the  'chases'  in  great 
numbers  have  returned  to  Hyde  Park — but  the  Den- 
tons  are  extinct,  and  '  sweete  Hillesden '  Church 
stands  once  more  alone,  in  the  silence  of  the  green 
lawns  and  overarching  elm  trees. 


VOL.  II. 


210      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 


CHAPTER  X. 

IN    EXILE. 

'  Call  it  a  travel  that  thou  takest  for  pleasure.' 

'  My  heart  will  sigh  when  I  miscall  it  so, 

Which  finds  it  an  inforced  pilgrimage.' — Richard  II. 

'  ONLY  one  member  of  the  House  of  Commons/  says 
Mr.  Gardiner,  '  amongst  those  who  had  remained  at 
their  posts  at  Westminster  after  the  first  months  of 
the  Civil  War — Sir  Ralph  Verney — refused  the  Cove- 
nant at  the  end  of  1643,  preferring  the  miseries  of 
exile  to  the  soiling  of  his  conscience.' ]  The  *  miseries ' 
had  arrived  without  a  moment's  delay  ;  scarcely  had 
the  poor  exiles  recovered  from  the  sufferings  of  their 
whiter  journey,  when  the  terrible  calamity  which 
overwhelmed  the  Denton  family  came  to  sadden  them ; 
the  troubles  of  their  other  friends,  the  confusion  of 
public  affairs,  and  Sir  Ralph's  own  doubts  as  to  the 
right  course  to  be  pursued,  all  contributed  to  darken 
what  his  best  friend  called  '  your  most  uncomfort- 
able and  unhappy  absence.' 

Sir  Ralph  had    offended  his  Royalist  relations  by 
refusing  to  side  with  the  king  in  his  prosperous  days, 

1  Gardiner's  Great  Civil  War,  vol.  ii.  p.  10. 


IN   EXILE 

and  now  he  outraged  his  Parliamentary  friends  by 
refusing  to  go  with  them  a  single  step  beyond  what 
his  own  conscience  approved.  George  Herbert's 
1  constant '  man  can  hardly  hope  to  be  popular  with 
his  own  party 

Whose  honesty  is  not 
So  loose  and  easy  that  a  ruffling  wind 
Can  blow  away,  or  glitter  ng  look  it  blind  ; 

Who  rides  his  sure  and  even  trot 
While  the  world  now  rides  by,  now  lags  behind, 

Who  when  great  trials  come, 

Nor  seeks,  nor  shuns  them  ;  but  doth  calmly  stay, 
Till  he  the  thing,  and  the  example  weigh. 

Sir  Ralph's  resolution  was  assailed  from  many 
quarters  ;  cousin  Henry  Parker  takes  upon  himself  to 
advise  and  remonstrate. 

'  In  my  opinion  you  steere  a  course  wherein  there 
is  almost  no  hope  of  indemnity  on  either  side,  but 
certaynty  of  greate  losse  and  blame  from  both.  If 
you  shall  say  there  is  much  to  be  disliked  in  ether 
partye,  my  thinkes  that  should  not  seeme  strange,  or 
alienate  you  totally  from  ether,  for  in  these  publicke 
divisions,  where  religion  and  liberty  are  indangerd 
all  men  ought  to  adhere  to  that  cause  which  is 
dictated  to  them  to  bee  ye  better  and  ye  more  harm- 
less by  ye  light  of  nature  and  the  most  forcible 
indications  of  reason.  No  man  can  say  that  God 
has  left  him  no  part  to  act,  nor  no  station  to  make 
good  ;  and  if  some  poore  mechanick  might  pleade 
himselfe  to  bee  wholly  unusefull  and  inconsiderable 
in  these  grande  cases,  yet  you  are  apparently  berreft 
of  such  excuses.  You  have  an  account  to  make  to 

p  2 


212      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

God,  to  yr  Countrye,  to  yr  Freinds,  to  yrselfe,  and  ye 
charge  of  that  account  wilbee  high  and  valuable  : 
and  to  thinke  that  you  can  exonerate  all  by  saying 
you  were  dubious,  and  not  satisfied  in  all  particulars 
is  most  strange.  Tis  impossible  y*  you  should  bee 
^quilibrious  in  ye  maine  or  in  ye  generality  of  ye  con- 
troversye,  and  if  ether  scale  have  but  one  od  grayne 
in  it  to  sway  you,  you  are  as  much  bounde  to  obey 
that  sway,  as  He  is  that  has  ye  strongest  propension 
•of  judgment.' 

Ralph  takes  the  implied  reproof  very  humbly. 
He  replies  :  '  Since  ye  perusall  of  your  freindly  lines 
I  have  had  a  farr  greater  desire  then  ever  to  satisfie 
my  selfe  in  those  particulars  that  first  induced  mee 
to  steere  this  course,  and  I  shall  most  willingly  use 
all  ye  wit  I  have  (joyned  with  that  of  others)  to 
facilitate  that  worke.  The  truth  is  when  I  saw  ye 
covenant  pressed  with  such  severity,  that  your 
kinnesman  meerly  for  refusall  (though  in  a  most 
modest  humble  manner)  was  not  only  suspended  and 
soe  made  uncapable  to  serve  his  country,  but  reserved 
for  greater  punishment,  ...  I  thought  it  might  be 
lesse  offensive  to  the  House  and  more  convenient  for 
my  selfe,  to  retreate  for  a  while  till  the  fury  of  that 
flame  were  over  then  to  doe  that,  whereof  I  soe  much 
doubted,  or  trouble  them  to  invent  punishments 
(where  ye  law  appointed  non),  for  such  an  un- 
fortunate creature,  for  soe  I  have  just  cause  to  stile 
myself,  being  I  heare  ye  King  hath  already  sequestred 
,my  estate,  and  y°  Parliament  dayly  threatens  to  doe 


IX   EXILE  213 

that  and  more.  Sr  I  am  very  sencible  of  my  owne 
misfortune  and  must  needes  agree  with  you  in  this 
greate  truth  that  what  side  soever  overcomes  there 
is  almost  noe  hope  of  indemnity.  But  you  well 
know,  rather  then  make  a  solemne  vow  and  covenant 
wherein  I  am  not  satisfied  I  must  chuse  to  suffer, 
.  .  .  and  content  my  selfe  with  the  testimoney  wch 
my  owne  conscience  will  ever  afford  mee,  that  whilst 
there  was  a  probability  that  I  might  serve  them  there 
I  did  it  faithfully,  and  further  that  during  the  time 
of  my  absence,  noe  one  thing  to  there  prejudice  hath 
beene  acted  by  yours  etc.,  R.  V.'  Henry  Yerney  was 
quite  of  Cousin  Parker's  opinion  ;  in  sporting  phrase 
he  urges  his  brother  '  to  take  the  Pitt  one  way  or 
other  .  .  .  these  times  are  likely  to  hold  very  long, 
and  beelive  it,  non  will  bee  in  soe  sad  a  condition  as 
those  that  stand  newters.' 

The  sequestration  of  Sir  Ralph's  estate  by  the 
king  did  not  entail  any  loss  eventually,  since  he  had 
transferred  it  for  a  term  to  '  confiding  men  '  and  on 
the  deed  of  trust  being  produced  the  sequestration 
was  taken  off.  But  his  fears  of  sequestration  by  the 
Parliament  were  only  too  well  founded. 

Doll  Leeke  had  already  written  to  his  wife  :  '  1 
have  heard  severall  parliment  men  call  your  husband 
a  delinquent  ;  some  say  he  has  3  thousand  pound 
ayeare  and  that  they  resolve  to  have  it  sudenly  ;  all 
the  mischefe  that  they  can  do  him  he  must  expect, 
which  apeares  to  me  a  straing  cruilty  and  an  ill 
reward  for  his  good  opinion  of  them.' 


214      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

The  poor  family  in  exile  have  their  share  of 
sickness,  and  Ralph  writes  sadly  to  Doll  Leeke  of 
both  the  children  having  been  ill  in  bed  :  i  the  Boy 
hath  had  a  feavour  accompanied  with  a  vomiting, 
and  yc  Girle  very  full  of  ye  small  Pox,  and  I  myselfe 
have  beene  ill  and  in  Phisick,  and  my  wife  (in  soe 
many  feares  and  troubles  for  us  all)  that  I  leave  you 
to  consider  her  distresse.  But  now  I  thanke  my 
God  wee  are  all  in  an  hopefull  way  of  recovery.' 
Sir  Roger  writes  of  Peg  :  '  I  pray  God  recovere  y1 
pretty  daughter,  I  hope  it  is  the  greatnesse  of  your 
affection  to  hir,  and  not  the  extremity  of  hir  dis- 
temper which  makes  you  so  solicitous  about  hir.' 
Doll  Leeke,  writing  to  sympathise  with  them  in  their 
trouble,  says  :  '  I  trust  God  will  spare  their  life  ; 
they  are  miserable  times  we  live  in  and  sartainly 
those  are  happiest  that  goes  first  .  .  .  my  sisters 
children  will  be  sudenly  in  a  condition  to  starve,  and 
most  of  my  frinds.'  Sir  Nathaniel  Hobart,  '  a  stranger 
in  my  own  country  and  destitute  of  friends,'  begs  for 
£50  ;  '  Sweet  Nan  '  expects  a  child,  '  an  unseason- 
able blessing,'  says  the  poor  man,  "  but  God's  will 
must  bee  done.'  Susan  Verney,  who  is  in  delicate 
health,  asks  for  an  extra  £10  a  year,  which  Ralph 
grants,  but  he  says — '  would  God  every  one  of 
my  own  children  were  sure  of  £40  a  year  ...  I 
should  sleep  much  quieter  I  assure  you  .  .  .'  The 
only  pleasant  bit  of  news  from  Clay  don  is  that  '  little 
Mr.  John  is  in  health  and  walking  pretty  strongly.' 
Sir  Ralph  writes  in  February  '45  to  Sir  W. 


IN   EXILE  215 

Hewytt  thanking  him  '  for  the  constancy  of  your 
affections,  a  rare  thing  in  these  days  for  I  beleeve 
few  men  can  say  they  have  a  freind  now,  whose  face 
they  knew  a  weeke  before  these  troubles.' 

In  contrast  to  the  high  tragic  tone  of  most  of  the 
correspondence  we  have  a  droll  little  storm  in  a 
teapot  in  June  1645.  Mr.  Waken  eld,  one  of  the 
English  refugees,  is  about  to  take  a  travelling  servant 
on  Sir  Ralph's  recommendation,  when  to  his  horror 
and  delight — like  many  a  man  since,  he  does  not 
quite  know  which  it  is — he  sees  his  name  in  'the 
papers  from  London,'  and  finds  the  servant  Thonier 
has  been  gossiping  about  him,  '  tho'  in  effect  it  will 
prove  but  an  idle  busyness,  hardly  worth  a  man's 
taking  notice  of,  yett  I  can  assure  you  there  has  been 
so  much  talk  of  me  at  London,'  and  so  on,  and  so 
on.  He  asks  Sir  Ralph  '  whether  it  will  be  safe  to 
nourish  such  an  one  and  make  him,  as  it  were,  privy 
to  some  of  my  actions,  who  for  his  own  ends  would 
not  stick  at  any  other  occasion  to  betray  me  ...  a 
sickbrained,  idle,  giddy-headed  fellow.'  Sir  Ralph 
replies  at  great  length  about  '  this  ugly  business.' 
but  characteristically  he  does  not  wish  to  condemn 
Thomer  unheard.  There  are  at  least  five  or  six 
long  elaborate  letters  on  this  important  subject,  and 
finally  the  printed  letter  itself  is  quoted,  which  is 
curious  enough.  '  The  Diurnall  gives  a  letter  from  a 
Gentleman  of  quality  out  of  ffrance  :  ''I  have  now 
been  fifteen  days  at  Paris  where  our  queene  of 
England  is  with  her  court  at  the  Louvre,  of  [at  ?]  the 


216      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

residents  Sr  Richard  Brown  we  have  sermons,  the 
common  prayer,  the  booke  of  execration  against  the 
Parliament  and  their  faction,  as  they  term  them,  duly 
and  devoutly  read  by  the  Bishop  of  Londonderry, 
Dr  Cousins,  who  came  hither  disguised  in  a  miller's 
habit  and  others  of  these  worthy  instruments  of  super- 
stition, keeps  a  constant  preachment  of  railing  against 
the  roundheads,  just  as  the  capuchins  do  against  the 
Protestants.  The  Ladyes  of  Honour  to  the  queene 
and  the  rest  of  the  Royalists  are  constantly  there.  The 
queene  goes  on  Tuesday  to  St.  Gerinains.  Dr  Verne, 
chaplain  lately  to  or  king  is  turned  Papist  and  writes 
against  the  Protestants.  They  hate  the  French 
Protestants  and  seldom  or  never  come  to  church  but 
with  the  Papists."  The  '  Diurnals  '  themselves  have 
a  hard  time  of  it.  Sir  Roger  sends  his  friend  '  The 
Scout,'  but  in  February  '45  he  writes,  '  The  Scout  is 
clapt  up  heere  as  I  am  informed  for  some  unadvised 
expressions  in  his  pamphlet,  he  is  not  this  week  to 
be  heard  of.' 

In  September  1645,  the  blow  fell  that  poor  Ralph 
had  so  much  dreaded,  and  which  he  had  hoped  to  the 
last  might  have  been  averted.  He  was  voted  out  of 
the  House  of  Commons.  Sir  Roger,  deeply  grievedr 
writes  to  inform  him  of  it : 

'  In  the  greatest  sadness  of  my  spirits,  that  which 
I  feared  is  now  com  upon  me.  Curos  leves  logantur 
ingentes  stupent,  no  word  can  express  my  sorrow 
but  I  trust  and  really  do  hope  that  the  wisdom  of 
my  friend  [i.e.  Sir  Ralph]  will  receive  it  with  less 


IX   EXILE  217 

distraction  and  trouble  then  I  can  send  it  ...  My 
friend  is  voted  out  etc.  the  22nd  of  this  instant  ;  and 
it  was  his  servants  fortune  to  be  at  it,  who  had  not 
been  ther  long  before  ;  his  endeavor  and  care  were 
not  wanting  in  anything  he  could  do,  but  his  absence 
was  the  only  cause  of  it,  although  other  things  were 
objected  against  him,  which  thanks  be  to  god  were 
proved  ontrue.  Writs  are  to  be  issued  for  new 
elections  for  that  place  ;  he  is  likewise  to  be  se- 
questred,  I  would  to  god  I  might  know  his  pleasure 
in  all  things  speedily.  Your  friend  is  so  openly 
spok  of  since  that  unhappy  business  and  was  so 
curried  in  the  place  openly  for  speaking  etc.  that  I 
feare  he  cannot  suffer  more  then  my  friend  will  do  if 
he  can  think  of  no  better  way  .  .  .  My  dearest  heart. 
the  Ld  of  heaven  bless  and  preserve  both  thee  and 
thine  and  supply  the  want  of  outward  comfort  to 
thee  by  himself.' 

Ralph's  distress  at  the  news  is  extreme  :  he 
replies  to  Sir  Roger's  letter  :  '  I  confess  it  brought 
mee  tidings  of  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  inex- 
pressible afflictions  that  ever  yet  befell  me,  for  which 
my  soul  shall  mourn  in  secret,  for  I  want  words  to- 
declare  my  grief.  God  in  mercy  give  me  patience 
and  forgive  those  that  did  it,  without  affording  me 
the  favour,  nay  I  might  say  the  justice,  of  a  sum- 
mons. Deare  hart,  tell  mee  what  particulars  were 
objected  against  me,  that  I  may  cleare  myselfe  to- 
thee  and  one  friend  more,  whome  I  desire  to  satisfie, 
for  I  protest  though  I  know  myselfe  guilty  of  many 


218      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   AVAR 

crimes,  yet  I  am  not  conscious  of  any  offence  com- 
mitted against  them,  and  were  I  not  well  assured  of 
this,  my  owne  Hart  would  make  mee  more  onhappy 
then  all  theire  votes  can  doe.' 

He  cannot  comfort  himself  at  being  expelled  from 
his  well-beloved  House,  and  writes  to  one  friend  and 
another  to  inquire  more  of  the  reasons.  Sir  R. 
Burgoyne  refers  to  '  the  sense  of  your  suffering  which 
your  letter  to  Sir  John  Leeke  expresses,'  and  repeats 
again  that  '  it  was  for  no  crime  in  the  world  but  only 
his  long  absence  ;  others  were  laid  to  his  charge  of 
having  been  in  the  King's  quarters,  but  a  servant  of 
his  who  was  ther  present  [i.e.  himself]  did  fully 
satisfy  them  to  the  contrary  (who,  I  may  say  for  him 
thus  much  that  he  did  leave  no  means  unattempted, 
nor  friend  unsolicited  to  prevent  that  sad  misfortune).' 
He  will  not  tell  him  all  the  particulars  as  it  would 
only  distress  them  both. 

'  There  are  new  Burgishes  chosen  in  Buckingham- 
shire, as  one  Scott  for  Aylesbury,  and  Major  Brown 
of  London  for  Wickhame.'  (Lord  Fermanagh,  in 
a  vicious  little  note  says  :  '  This  Scott  was  since 
hanged  and  quartered.'  He  was  one  of  the  Regi- 
cides.) And  what  makes  the  whole  cut  deeper  and 
more  cruelly  is  that  it  was  not  an  enemy  that  had 
done  this  thing,  but  '  mine  own  familiar  friend,'  the 
great  Patriot  party,  with  whose  thoughts  arid  actions 
Ralph  had  sympathised  so  earnestly. 

A  few  weeks  later,  when  Sir  John  Leeke  is  ill, 
Susan  writes  :  '  I  am  commanded  by  my  unkell  to 


IN   EXILE  219 

write  to  you  which  he  cannot  do  himself,  by  reason  he 
is  this  night  extremely  ill,  he  decays  every  day  more 
and  more,  God  Almighty  bless  him  and  send  him  well, 
if  he  should  miscarry  I  should  have  a  great  loss. 
He  has  had  discourse  with  some  of  your  dear  friends ; 
one  who  appears  very  tender  of  you  and  your  family ; 
from  divers  of  them  he  as  bein  tould  that  they  are 
amazed  that  in  all  this  time  you  should  not  make 
your  way  either  to  have  continued  in  the  House  or 
to  keep  off  your  sequestration  which  is  expressed 
shall  fall  upon  you.  Every  day  you  are  under  the 
censure  of  an  absolute  neglect.  It  may  be  you  have 
a  more  understanding  of  your  bisnes  than  your 
friends  conceive,  but  it  is  thought  itt  will  draw  you 
to  a  destruction  of  you  and  yours,  which  God  of  his 
mercy  keep  from  you.  They  do  generally  wish  you 
homewards  within  a  month,  or  to  procure  dispensa- 
tion for  your  absence,  which  may  keep  your  estate  in 
some  safety  ;  pray  mould  these  into  your  serious 
consideration,  that  the  advise  of  your  friends  may 
not  be  lost.' 

All  his  friends  urge  him  to  come  home  and  com- 
pound ;  he  would  only  too  gladly  do  so  if  consistent 
with  honour  and  safety,  but  none  could  compound 
without  first  taking  the  Covenant.  '  1  confesse  I  had 
much  rather  suffer  at  home,  soe  it  might  not  bee  in 
prison,'  he  writes,  but  if  '  this  single  thought  [his 
refusal  to  sign  the  Covenant]  must  needes  be  hightned 
to  a  crime  worthy  of  a  total  ruine,'  he  hesitates  to 
leave  his  harboijr  of  refuge. 


220      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   AVAR 

Immediately  after  the  fatal  vote  Mrs.  Isham  wrote : 
'  The  last  wicke  I  could  a  sent  you  the  111  nuse  of 
your  being  out  of  the  House,  for  it  was  my  fortine 
to  be  att  the  Dore  att  the  time,  a  boute  my  neses 
[nieces]  Denton  and  all  the  Rest  of  the  childrine 
which  be  licke  to  bege  for  it.  They  holde  on  the 
sequest",  and  make  such  busel  as  you  cannot  Im- 
magion,  and  now  I  feare  within  a  while  the  Licke 
[like]  will  come  upone  youre  land,  but  if  it  doth, 
thare  will  be  noe  way  but  for  you  to  compound  for 
all  your  Estate,  before  havoke  be  made  of  it ;  but 
this  way  'will  cost  redy  money  which  is  more  worth 
then  any  land.  I  did  axe  .  .  .  your  frinds  and  mine 
which  way  you  had  best  to  take,  if  you  should  be 
sequestred,  and  this  was  that  as  they  told  me.  I 
should  be  lofte  [loth]  to  see  that  befall  you,  as  hath 
our  fammily,  but  this  way  is  licke  to  make  all  of  us 
alike  ;  the  Lorde  give  us  all  pachinces  for  a  beggert 
we  must  all  goe  if  this  world  holde.  Your  bond 
will  be  taken  if  you  was  here,  but  being  absent  I 
know  it  will  never  be  taken.' 

A  few  days  later  Henry  writes :  '  My  acquaint- 
ance with  your  friend  Sir  Roger  is  not  so  great  as  I 
could  wish,  yet  I  am  well  knowne  to  him  for  we  meet 
often  at  Westminster  and  other  places,  where  we  dis- 
course much  of  you  ;  I  think  a  loves  you  dearly.  I 
whish  you  had  been  so  happy  in  time  to  be  advised 
by  him  for  a  tells  me  a  did  press  you  by  divers  letters 
tc  return  afore  the  blow  was  given.  That  wcb  is  done 
cannot  be  recalled,  yet,  dear  friend,  let  me  desire  you 


IN   EXILE  221 

to  take  better  care  for  the  future,  for  long  absence  I 
doubt  will  prove  an  incurable  disease  ;  it  is  the  opinion 
of  your  best  and  wisest  friends,  divers  of  whom 
impute  your  actions  to  scruple  of  conscience,  or  else, 
beelive  it,  by  the  carage  of  your  business  they  would 
account  you  mad.' 

In  writing  to  Edmund,  Harry  expresses  himself 
more  tersely  ;  their  brother  '  has  played  the  bird 
called  the  goose,'  an  opinion  which  he  doubtless  ex- 
presses in  all  sorts  of  society,  says  Sir  Ralph,  when 
the  phrase  has  been  kindly  brought  to  his  ears. 

Ralph,  with  his  heart  wholly  centred  on  England, 
seems  to  have  given  but  little  thought  to  the  country 
of  his  banishment ;  writing  was  his  absorbing  occu- 
pation, letters  from  home  his  greatest  solace,  he  kept 
a  calendar  in  which  he  entered  an  abstract  and  some- 
times a  full  copy  of  letters  written  and  received.  Sir 
Thomas  Hewett  only  echoed  Ralph's  own  thoughts 
when  he  wrote  to  him.  '  The  separation  of  friends  I 
find  to  be  worse  than  the  sequestration  of  estates 
from  the  continuance  of  which  I  daly  implore  our 
good  God  with  a  piece  of  our  old  Letany.' 

He  seems  to  have  read  a  good  deal  during  his  en- 
forced leisure,  to  judge  by  his  requests  to  Dr.  Den  ton 
for  various  works  and  the  lists  of  those  that  he  receives 
from  England  from  time  to  time.  Inter  aliis :  Milton's 
Iconoclastes  ;  The  Levellers  vindicated  ;  Prynne's 
Historical  Collection  of  ancient  parliaments  ;  an  im- 
peachment against  Cromwell  and  Ireton  ;  Ascham  ; 
Bishop  Andrews  2  Manuals  ;  i  Hooker  his  6  and  8 


222      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

books  ; '  History  of  Independency  ;  *  2  Sclaters.' 
Dr.  Denton  heartily  recommends  Sclater  to  '  Land- 
lady's reading '  ;  it  '  treats  or  rather  indeed  mencions 
AntiXst  ;  .  .  .  .  tell  her  it  is  now  time  to  leave  her 
Romantz  ;  to  please  me  it  is  one  of  the  best  bookis 
I  ever  read  ;  he  is  strangely  piquante  and  short  and 
strangely  convincinge.'  Ralph  knew  French  suffi- 
ciently to  read  and  write  it,  though  he  had  not  ac- 
quired any  fluency  in  speaking  it.  Dr.  Denton  writes 
to  him  :  '  If  yu  would  doe  a  good  worke  indeed  you 
should  translate  Canterbury  and  Chillingworth  their 
books  into  French,  for  certainly  never  any  books  gave 
a  greater  blow  to  papacy  than  those  two.'  '  Laud's 
Book  against  Fisher '  was  one  of  those  which  King 
Charles  recommended  to  his  daughter  Elizabeth,  at 
their  last  interview,  '  to  ground  her  against  Popery,' 
so  this  was  probably  what  Dr.  Denton  referred  to  as 
1  Canterbury's  '  book.  Henry  Verney  also  sent  Sir 
Ralph  in  January  '45  '  the  Bishop's  last  sermon  & 
prayer  ;  it  is  I  assure  you,  a  true  booke  &  a  good 
one.' 

As  mistress  of  the  family  Mary  had  at  least  the 
comfort  of  being  very  busy  ;  they  can  keep  but  two 
maids  and  one  little  boy,  '  soe  we  are  but  7  in  family, 
and  I  know  not  how  to  do  with  lesse,  because  of  the 
children  ; '  the  house-keeping  does  not  always  go 
smoothly ;  Mr.  Ogilvy  writes  from  Orleans  to 
apologise  not  only  for  the  bad  service  of  '  that  grace- 
less boy  that  I  was  so  unhappy  to  prefer  to  your 
Ladyshipp,  but  also  for  his  impertinent  speaches 


IN   EXILE  223 

which  shall  be  the  cause  that  he  shall  hardly  find 
another  maister.'  One  feels  how  the  '  graceless  boy  ' 
was  put  upon  by  the  two  English  maids,  and  one  is 
not  without  sympathy  for  him. 

That  some  of  the  refugees  treated  their  French 
servants  in  the  rough  and  overbearing  spirit  tradi- 
tionally attributed  to  the  Englishman  abroad,  and 
that  the  quick-witted  Frenchman  in  return  cheated 
and  abused  the  sons  of  *  perfide  Albion  '  is  evident 
from  some  of  the  letters.  Here  is  one  from  Sir 
Henry  Puckering  Newton,  who  had  set  up  house  at 
Rouen,  to  Sir  Ralph  at  Blois  :  '  I  forgott  in  my 
last  to  acquaint  you  with  the  parting  of  my  Boy 
Estienne,  Who  having  of  a  long  time  play'd  some 
prankes,  made  mee  at  last  resolve  to  pay  him  his 
arrearages,  Chiefly  3  or  4  dayes  before  having  been 
very  rude  to  Mrs  Cochram  and  in  his  words  defi'd  both 
her  and  mee,  And  telling  her  if  I  beate  him  once  I 
should  never  doe  it  twice,  woh  I  understood  him  was 
by  riming  away.  And  though  hee  knew  he  was 
complain'd  of.  hee  was  so  sencelesse  as  for  a  whole 
afternoon  when  my  wife  and  I  were  abroad  with  a 
coach  to  neglect  us  and  bee  debauch'd  with  another 
lacquay  should  have  been  also  following  the  coach. 
The  next  day  I  bestow'd  a  little  beating  of  him,  and 
did  it  heartily,  though  without  passion :  Upon  wch 
hee  ran  to  the  doore  and  call'd  for  his  things,  and 
swore  hee  never  would  enter  again,  though  a  thou- 
sand devills  drove  him,  But  I  over  hearing  him,  sent 
one  that  was  too  strong  for  him  and  brought  him 


224      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL  WAR 

back,  and  tooke  a  little  more  paines  upon  him,  to  shew 
him  hee  was  mistaken.  For  I  would  beate  him  twice ; 
And  to  bee  beforehand  with  him,  made  him  unbutton, 
that  so  hee  might  goe  his  way,  as  naked  as  hee  came, 
if  hee  thought  good.  This  startled  him,  but  heardly 
wrought  peccavi  from  his  high  stomach.  But  I  perceiv- 
inghee  would  not  stay  long  and  might  take  some  worse 
opportunity  if  I  permitted  it,  dispatch'd  him  going, 
but  with  his  cloaths,  out  of  the  sole  respect  I  have 
to  some  at  Blois  that  are  his  kinred.  Every  one 
wonders  that  one  that  deserv'd  a  worser  beating  so 
long  should  take  it  so  unkindly  at  the  last.  Hee 
went  from  heare  by  Pont  1'Arche  (they  say)  to  Paris 
loaden  with  balades,  in  company  of  one  that  sings 
them,  and  debauch'd  him  heere.  A  greater  knave 
never  serv'd  master,  if  all  bee  true  is  told  mee  since, 
•of  every  side.  If  hee  went  away  without  money,  it 
was  his  owne  fault,  both  for  not  asking  mee  pardon, 
•on  one  side,  and  for  not  husbanding  what  had 
been  given  him  at  times  wch  would  have  come  to  a 
good  sum  according  to  the  wage  hee  gott  heere  in 
the  house,  woh  hee  requited  so  unkindly  to  them  that 
hee  never  eate  bitt  of  their  meate  without  grumbling, 
though  to  my  knowledge  (and  great  wonder)  hee 
eate  as  good  as  I  did  and  all  the  same.  Nay  at 
Madame  Willetts  hee  would  pretende  to  whole  Tur- 
keys for  his  share,  rather  than  keepe  them  cold  for 
after  the  dancing.  I  could  entertaine  you  some 
2  houres  longer  with  much  of  his  story  wch  never 
was  complain'd  of  till  his  back  was  turn'd.  But  I 


IN  EXILE  225 

am  gladd  I'm  ridd  of  him  so,  and  so  may  you  bee 
when  you  are  at  the  end  of  his  adventures,  wch  I 
thought  good  to  tell  you  in  part  that  you  may  see 
the  better  t'was  not  without  some  cause  none  of  his 
friends  would  bee  caution  for  him,  I  being  the  first 
master  putt  him  away,  Hee  ran  away  from  all  the 
rest.' 

So  much  for  the  foreign  lacqueys.  English  ser- 
vants were  far  more  reliable,  but  if  they  did  not  con- 
sume whole  turkeys  for  supper,  they  quarrelled  with 
the  foreign  food,  and  were  as  hard  to  please  abroad 
as  their  successors  of  to-day. 

'  I  know  noe  English  maids  will  ever  bee  con- 
tent (or  stay  a  weeke),'  wrote  Sir  Ralph,  'to  fare  as 
thes  [French]  servants  faire.  .  .  .  Noe  English  maide 
will  bee  content  with  our  diet  and  way  of  liveing  : 
for  my  part  since  this  time  twelvemoneth,  I  have  not 
had  one  bit  of  Rost  meate  to  dinner,  and  now  of  late, 
I  rost  but  one  night  in  a  weeke  for  Suppers,  which 
were  strainge  in  an  English  maide's  oppinion.'  But 
though  Luce  and  Besse  quarrelled  with  a  diet  of 
'  potages '  and  'legumes,'  and  doubtless  thought  Sir 
Ralph's  political  scruples  sadly  misplaced,  they  fol- 
lowed the  fallen  fortunes  of  their  master's  family 
with  exemplary  fidelity,  and  when  Ralph  writes  to 
Mary  in  England  as  to  the  comparative  merits  of 
bringing  out  an  English  maid  or  of  getting  a  French 
one  on  the  spot,  his  description  of  the  latter  makes 
one's  hair  stand  on  end  ;  '  it  is  hard  to  find  one  here 
especially  of  our  Religion,'  but  he  has  heard  of  one 

VOL.  II.  Q 


1226      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

whom  he  recommends  his  wife  to  take  '  with  all  her 
faults/  'her  2  sisters  are  but  Ramping  girles,'  'but 
truly  she  is  a  civill  wench  and  playes  well  of  the 
Lute,  she  is  well  cladd  and  well  bredd,  but  raw  to 
serve,  and  full  of  the  Itch  ! '  The  time  devoted  to 
the  study  of  the  lute  might  have  been  so  far  more 
profitably  spent  in  practising  with  soap  and  water, 
Ibut  cleanliness  in  Sir  Ralph's  eyes  ranks  very  far 
indeed  after  godliness,  and  he  goes  on  discussing  the 
maid's  theological  opinions.  He  fears  that  it  may  be 
necessary  after  all  to  dispense  with  Protestant  ortho- 
doxy, '  the  very  minister,  and  antients  here,  are 
served  by  Papists  ;  but  it  would  trouble  us  because 
of  Fish  dayes  ;  I  hope  you  will  get  one  of  our  owne 
religeon  either  at  Roiien  or  Paris.'  When  in  the 
autumn  of  1646,  Mary  decides  to  go  to  England, 
Luce  goes  with  her,  and  Besse  remains  to  look  after 
Sir  Ralph  and  the  children ;  the  two  maids  corre- 
spond and  their  masters  enclose  their  letters.  Luce 
Sheppard  is  a  waiting  gentlewoman  on  intimate  terms 
with  her  mistress  ;  she  is  at  this  time  rather  dis- 
appointing ;  but  after  Mary's  death  she  takes  very 
good  care  of  Mrs.  Eure's  children,  and  is  much 
trusted  and  valued.  When  Lady  Verney  is  about  to 
return  to  France,  she  complains  that  Luce's  brother 
will  not  allow  her  to  leave  England  again  ;  knowing 
that  he  '  is  a  very  Idle  proud  fellow '  and  that  he 
has  no  comfortable  home  to  offer  her,  Lady  Verney 
sends  a  propitiatory  offering  of  '  a  pare  of  gloves 
trimed,  to  my  maydes  brother's  wife  to  make  them 


IN   EXILE  227 

willing  she  should  stay  with  me.  .  .  .  but  to  tell 
the  truth  methinks  the  wench  is  nott  soe  much 
troubled  to  part  with  me  as  I  am  to  part  with 
her  ;  which  hath  taken  of  the  edge  of  my  sorrow  to 
lett  her  goe.'  Sir  Ralph  replies,  very  anxious  for  her 
comfort  on  her  journey,  and  entering  as  he  always 
does  into  every  detail  of  Mary's  anxieties  : 

'  You  say  chamber  maides  will  have  4  or  5 
pounds  wages  and  neither  wash,  nor  starch  ;  that  is 
to  say  they  will  doo  nothing  but  dresse  you,  for  I  doo 
not  valew  theire  needle  work  at  a  groate  a  moneth. 
Tis  true  if  any  of  us  should  be  sick  you  would 
want  one  to  make  such  Broathes  and  such  like 
matters,  but  though  Luce  could  doo  it,  perhapps  you 
would  not  findd  another  that  can,  nor  that  can  make 
creames  or  pyes  or  dresse  meate  they  are  now  to  find 
for  such  matters.  My  Budd  now  I  have  told  thee 
my  oppinion  take  whom  you  please,  and  doo  in  it 
what  you  please,  for  I  studdy  nothing  but  your  con- 
tentment in  all  that  I  have  writ  about  it ;  ...  Now 
for  Luce's  wages,  it  is  three  pounds  English,  and  I 
paydd  her  all  at  Midsomer  1646,  soe  that  at  Christmas 
next  there  will  bee  a  yeare  and  a  half  wages  due  to 
her  wch  comes  to  foure  pounds  ten  shillings,  unlesse 
you  have  payed  her  some  since  you  went  into  Eng- 
land. Now  for  giving  of  her,  if  she  leave  you  on  a 
suddaine  and  unprovided  (and  espetially  if  she  goe 
to  serve  againe)  I  would  give  her  the  lesse,  therfore 
findd  that  out,  and  tell  her  if  shee  will  stay,  you  will 
mend  her  wages.  .  .  .  for  tis  not  possible  you  can 

ft  2 


228      VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

come  without  a  maide  or  woeman  to  helpe  you, 
though  I  beeleeve  Luce  helped  you  very  little  at  sea. 
Tis  two  daies  jorney  from  London  to  Rye,  and  one 
from  Deipe  to  Roiien  and  being  noe  more  you  may 
borrow  or  hire  a  wooman  creature  for  such  a  pur- 
pose.' Eventually  Luce  settles  to  go  with  her  mis- 
tress to  Dieppe,  she  will  take  no  other  service  '  but 
the  thoughts  of  living  with  her  sister  like  a  gentle- 
woman workes  much  upon  her.' 

Besse  meanwhile  had  turned  out  a  perfect  trea- 
sure, and  however  cheaply  Sir  Ralph  seems  to  rate 
*  a  wooman  creature,'  he  freely  acknowledges  his 
indebtedness  to  Besse,  for  the  comfort  of  the  house- 
hold during  her  mistress's  absence. 

'  Besse  now  speakes  French  enough  to  buy  any 
thing  and  uppon  this  occation  I  asked  her  if  she  had 
any  thoughts  of  returning  home.  ...  to  which  she 
answered,  she  had  noe  thoughts  of  parting,  and  that 
if  wee  stayed  halfe  a  dozen  years  abroad,  wee  might 
assure  ourselves  of  her  ;  these  were  her  own  words. 
...  I  was  glad  to  have  this  assurance  from  her.' 
As  a  proof  of  his  regard,  he  buys  Besse  a  pair  of 
'  trimed  gloves  '  at  £l  55.  Mary  is  troubled  to  think 
that  Bess's  feelings  may  be  hurt  if  Luce's  successor  is 
put  over  her,  after  all  her  faithful  service  :  '  I  know 
not  what  course  in  the  world  to  take.  ...  I  doe  not 
finde  being  I  keepe  but  toe  maydes  how  I  can  keepe 
eyther  a  tine  chambermaide  or  a  gentlewoman  for  to 
say  truth  there  is  little  or  noe  difference  between 
them,  for  you  and  I  have  a  great  deale  of  washing 


IN   EXILE  229 

and  starching  and  beside  upon  those  dayes  that  Bess 
doth  wash  there  will  be  a  greate  deale  of  ordinary 
worke  to  doe  as  ye  getting  dinner  ready  and  making 
cleane  ye  howse,  which  none  heare  that  goes  so  well 
as  Luce  will  be  content  to  doe.  and  if  I  should  take  a 
very  plaine  chamber  may  de,  I  feare  Bess  will  not  be 
content  to  doe  the  work  she  now  doth  to  be  under  a 
plaine  one  ;  and  I  cannott  take  Bess  next  to  me 
because  I  know  she  cannott  starch  and  beside  I  know 
she  can  neavor  learne  to  dress  me.  I  am  in  a  great 
straite.'  It  is  curious  that  the  ladies  of  rank  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  who  are  so  capable  in  other 
matters  and  so  far  more  conversant  with  the  mysteries 
.of  the  kitchen,  the  bakehouse,  and  the  stillroom,  than 
their  successors  of  to-day,  are  so  very  helpless  about 
dressing  themselves  and  quite  dependent  upon  a 
'  gentlewoman  in  waiting.' 

Mary  returns  to  the  subject  again  and  again  :  '  I 
have  not  yet  mett  with  a  mayde,  though  1  have 
scene  many.'  Sir  Ralph  also  is  not  easy  to  please  : 

'  Tell  me  what  that  maide  is  in  Age  and  Parts 
and  humour,'  he  writes,  '  for  if  she  bee  not  young 
and  have  some  witt,  she  will  bee  the  longer  ere  she 
get  the  language,  and  if  her  humour  bee  not  merry, 
she  will  never  please  soe  much  as  to  bee  endured 
in  any  house.'  Mary  at  last  finds  a  maiden  who 
'  is  very  goodnatured,  and  a  gentleman's  daughter 
of  £400  a  yeare  ....  she  is  in  a  gentlewoman's 
habitt  butt  she  saith  she  will  not  refuse  to  doe  any 
thing.'  This  admirable  young  person  took  'the 


230      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

measells,'  but  she  seems  to  have  returned  at  the  end 
of  a  week  prepared  once  more  '  to  doe  anything/ 
The  sight  of  a  stranger  in  attendance  on  her  mistress 
was,  however,  too  much  for  Luce's  feelings. 

'  Soe  att  night  speaking  with  Luce  aboute  my 
going  over,'  writes  Lady  Verney,  '  she  told  me  thatt 
if  I  would  lett  her  goe  for  one  weeke  downe  into  the 
country  to  her  brother,  to  settle  her  buseness  with 
him,  she  would  goe  over  with  me  for  a  month  or  toe 
untell  I  could  find  one  there  fitting  to  my  mind  ; 
soe  I  pressently  took  her  att  her  word,  for  I  am  very 
gladd  to  have  her  a  month  or  toe  longer  upon  any 
termes,  because  the  greatest  inconvenience  thatt  I 
shall  find  in  a  strainger  will  be  in  my  journey.  .  .  . 
soe  I  will  putt  of  this  mayde  againe  though  truly  I 
think  tis  a  very  good  wench  butt  she  is  nott  at  all 
hansom  which  I  know  would  nott  please  thee.' 

Mary  takes  much  pains  with  her  housekeeping,  she 
was  famous  for  making  good  bread.  It  is  amusing 
to  find  that  '  sirrup  of  violets  '  and  '  a  firkin  of  this 
country  butter  '  are  sent  as  delicacies  from  Bucks  to 
Normandy  ;  butter  and  flowers  travelling  now  in  the 
opposite  direction.  Excellent  dried  fruits  are  men- 
tioned from  the  South  of  France,  '  cerises  aigres ' 
[cherries  without  sugar]  and  grapes  being  the  best. 
Mary  has  a  portable  oven  for  roasting  apples,  '  a 
cloche,'  which  she  takes  home  with  her,  and  Ralph 
advises  her  to  give  it  '  to  Nan  Lee  or  who  else  you 
please  that  loves  good  apples.'  The  French  wine  is 
commended,  but  Sir  Ralph  writes  to  his  wife  to  send 


TX   EXILE  231 

him   from  Claydon  some  of  the   old   sack,  to   give 
away  or  to  drink  at  home  ;  she  replies  : 

'  I  am  in  great  admiration  at  yonr  telling  me  that 
good  canarye  sack  will  be  a  wellcome  present  to  my 
acquaintance  at  blois,  for  I  doe  not  know  any  Eng- 
lish acquaintance  I  have  there,  and  certainly  you 
have  very  much  altered  the  natures  of  ye  french  if 
they  are  growne  to  love  sack — however  I  like  very 
well  of  bringing  some  over.  ...  we  may  keepe  it  for 
our  owne  use  ;  for  if  itt  be  good  sack  I  beleeve  tis  a 
very  whollsom  wine  espetially  in  that  hott  country/ 
Besides  her  housekeeping  Mary  had  the  education  of 
Mun  and  Peg  to  occupy  her,  her  music  and  her  em- 
broidery ;  she  seems  to  have  an  elaborate  piece  of 
work  on  hand,  for  when  she  goes  to  England,  Ralph 
writes  that  if  his  business  in  London  is  like  to  take 
her  as  long  to  finish  as  her  '  wrought  sheete,'  he 
shall  not  expect  her  speedy  retura.  At  this  moment 
of  intolerance  in  England  and  before  the  Revocation 
of  the  Edict  of  Xantes,  there  was  a  good  deal  more 
religious  freedom  to  be  found  in  France,  one  reason 
perhaps,  why  English  families  were  sending  boys 
abroad  for  education.  Rouen  '  is  very  unfit '  for  the 
purpose,  wrote  Sir  Ralph  in  answer  to  an  inquiry 
about  a  boys'  school,  '  for  heere  most  men  speak 
worse  French  than  the  poore  people  doe  English  at 
Northumberland,  and  there  are  noe  Protestant  mas- 
ters alowed  to  keepe  a  schol  heere.  All  things 
exceeding  Deare,  but  higher  in  the  country.  There 
are  divers  Universities  at  Sedan,  Saumur,  Geneva, 


232      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

and  other  fine  places,  and  as  I  am  told  at  noe  unrea- 
sonable rate  and  not  only  protestant  scholemasters, 
but  whole  colledges  of  protestants.'  They  are  very 
good  friends  with  M.  Testard,  the  Protestant  pastor 
at  Blois,  who  takes  pupils. 

In  the  summer  of  1645  Sir  Ralph  went  to  Paris 
for  a  time  and  travelled  about  the  country  ;  a  few 
weeks  later  he  settled  his  family  at  Blois,  which 
became  their  headquarters  for  the  remainder  of  their 
exile.  In  1646  he  and  his  wife  made  another  little 
tour.  '  I  have  been  out  neare  two  months,'  writes 
Sir  Ralph  on  July  15,  l  viewing  the  Townes  uppon 
this  River  of  Loir,  andRochell,  Bordeaux,  and  severall 
other  parts  of  this  country.'  He  seems  to  have 
planned  a  longer  stay  at  Nantes,  and  had  ordered  pro- 
visions to  be  sent  there  from  Amsterdam  ;  50  Ibs.  of 
sugar,  50  Ibs.  of  raisins  of  the  sun,  50  Ibs.  currants 
[it  seems  as  if  Mary  were  preparing  for  Christmas 
plum-puddings] .,  and  50 Ibs.  of  rice,  'all  these  were 
in  bundles  and  the  rice  in  bags/  they  were  shipped 
from  Holland  in  the  previous  October,  but  Christmas 
went  by  and  they  had  not  reached  Nantes  even  by 
May.  A  long  correspondence  ensues  in  which  the 
ship-master  gives  in  all  conscience  reasons  enough, 
and  to  spare,  for  the  disappearance  of  the  '  commodi- 
ties '  ;  they  were  shipwrecked,  they  were  shut  in  by 
ice  [he  does  not  say  where],  they  were  disabled  by  a 
storm,  they  feigned  to  return  to  another  port,  they 
put  the  provisions  into  another  ship,  &c.,  &c.,  and 
they  were  finally  devoured  by  rats — '  two-legged 


IX   EXILE  233 

ratts,'  writes  Ralph, '  advise  with  some  knowing  man, 
I  will  seeke  remedie  against  the  Master  in  some  legall 
way.'  The  agent  replies  that  they  will  get  no 
redress  '  to  trouble  justice  on  so  weake  ground,'  that 
the  master  proves  it  was  '  the  Ratts,'  and  '  that  tho 
he  had  2  Catts  aboard.'  So  nothing  conies  of  it, 
but  an  addition  to  Ralph's  many  letters,  though  he 
repeats  to  the  last  his  great  desire  '  to  be  quitt  with 
the  master,'  who  has  '  first  cheated  mee  of  the  goods 
and  then  layes  it  to  the  Ratts '  ;  he  has  all  an  Eng- 
lishman's indignation  at  being  defrauded  by  a 
foreigner,  and  is  quite  willing  to  spend  more  than 
the  things  are  worth  to  vindicate  his  rights. 

After  his  return  to  Blois  he  says  that  they  would 
have  made  a  longer  tour,  but  Mary  insisted  upon 
their  return,  they  had  not  a  penny  left,  and  '  wifes 
will  chide,  and  by  the  king's  example,  Husbands 
must  obey  ! ' 

The  Reformed  Churches  of  the  continent  watched 
the  struggle  in  England  with  keen  interest.  Mr. 
Robert  Thorner  writes  from  Orleans  to  Ralph,  on  his 
return  from  a  journey  to  Italy,  'In  the  Protestant 
cantons  of  Switzerland  and  at  Geneva  there  was  a 
solemne  publicke  fast  on  the  10th  of  this  month  [June 
1646]  appointed  for  the  praying  for  the  reconciling 
of  these  unhappy  differences  in  greate  Brittaine  and 
Ireland.' 

Among  the  smaller  worries  which  Ralph  had  to 
endure  in  France  was  that  of  wearing  a  perriwig,  a 
fashion  from  which  England  was  still  free.  The 


234      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

little  bills  for  the  wigs  themselves,  the  ribbons,  the 
pomade,  and  the  powder  come  again  and  again, 
Ralph  sends  minute  directions  about  the  length,  style. 
and  thickness,  and  encloses  a  pattern  lock  of  hair  : 
'  let  it  be  well  curled  in  great  rings  and  not  frizzled, 
and  see  that  he  makes  it  handsomely  and  fashionably, 
and  with  two  locks  and  let  them  be  tyed  with  black 
ribbon  ....  let  not  the  wig  part  behind,  charge  him 
to  curl  it  on  both  sides  towards  the  face.'  The  cost 
of  this  wig  was  12  livres.  Grood  hair-powder  seems 
to  have  been  hard  to  obtain.  Sir  John  Cooke  sends 
'  a  small  phiole  of  white  Cyprus  powder,  which  I  be- 
seech you  present  to  my  Lady  as  an  example  of  the 
best  Montpelier  affords,  for  I  saw  it  made  myself.  It 
must  be  mixed  with  other  powder,  else  it  will  bring 
the  headache.  There  is  a  powder  cheaper,  but  not 
so  proper  for  the  hair.' 

Wealth  and  poverty  are  comparative  terms,  and 
though  hardly  knowing  where  to  turn  for  the  neces- 
saries of  life,  some  of  its  superfluities  are  still  indis- 
pensable for  self-respect ;  while  Ralph  is  intent  on 
his  '  Pomatums,'  Mary's  friends  amongst  the  Paris 
exiles  are  choosing  her  '  two  fannes  '  at  the  Palais 
Royal,  which  cost  two  francs  and  fifteen  sous,  and  her 
husband  is  most  anxious  that  she  be  furnished  with 
proper  '  pinns,  oris  powder  and  such  matters '  from 
London,  '  for  they  are  nought  here.'  While  powder 
and  patches  are  amongst  the  ordinary  toilette  neces- 
saries, tooth-brushes  are  new  and  costly  luxuries,  as 
late  as  1649,  an  English  friend  asks  Sir  Ralph  to 


IN   EXILE  235 

inquire  for  him  in  Paris  for  the  '  little  brushes  for 
making  cleane  of  the  teeth,  most  covered  with  sylver 
and  some  few  with  gold  and  sylver  Twiste,  together 
with  some  Petits  Bouettes  [British  for  Boites]  to  put 
them  in.'     It  is  the  same  at  home  ;  English  society 
seems  to  Ralph's  correspondents  to  be  falling  to  pieces, 
the  only  happy  people  are  those  whom  death  releases 
from  the  chances  and  changes  of  this  troublesome 
world — but  as  long  as  life  remains  the  Countess  of 
Warwick  must  give  evening  parties,  and  Anne  Lee, 
who  is  but  little  regarded  in  the  new  household,  must 
appear  at  them,  and  if  society  demands  an  evening 
dress,  it  may  as  well  be  in  the  latest  Paris  fashion — 
hence  that  young  lady's  letter  to  Lady  Verney,  which 
reads    oddly   enough    with    such   a  background   of 
anxieties  :  '  Madam,  I  hear  you  ar  at  pares  [Paris], 
you  will  be  trim  in  all  the  new  fashones,  I  will  make 
no  new  cloues  [clothes]   till  you  direct  mee,  and  if 
you  could  without  any  inconvenience    by  mee  any 
prity  coulred  stoffe  to  make  mee  a  peticote,  4  Bredes 
of  saten  is  enofe  ;  I  never  put  in  more  then  5  yard 
....  but  I  hear  thay  ware  now  in  Franc  coulerd 
slefes  and  stomicheres,  therefore  ther  must  be  somthing 
alowed  for  that ;  but  not  by  no  means  if  it  cannot  be 
without  any  inconvenience  to  you,  pray  let  mee  know 
and  I  will  buy  mee  one  heere  :  I  would  not  have  one 
to  cost  to  much  ;  4  or  5   pound  and  pray  let  mee 
know  how  to  send  the  mony  ;  and   deare  Madam 
bestoe  me  30  shelings  in  anie  prety  thing  for  my 
head,  to  sote  me  out  a  litell.' 


236      VERNEY   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

She  is  longing  to  see  Lady  Yerney  again :  '  I  be- 
seech you  let  me  know  as  soon  as  you  coin  to  loundon, 
that  I  may  wait  on  you,  ther  has  been  many  shanges 
sence  you  went.  I  have  many  stories  to  tell  you. 
...  I  want  language  to  exprese  my  senc  of  your 
sevelity.' 

In  a  letter  of  Mary's  from  London  in  1647  de- 
scribing the  presents  from  Paris  that  her  English 
friends  would  most  value,  we  learn  that  '  wooden 
combs  are  in  greate  esteeme  heare,  butt  truly  I  think 
they  buy  them  very  neare  as  cheape  heare  as  there ' ; 
there  is  not  '  anything  that  will  be  soe  wellcom  as 
gorgetts,  and  eyther  cutt  or  painted  callicoes  to  wear 
under  them  or  whatt  is  most  in  fashion  ;  and  black 
or  collered  cales  [calash,  a  hood]  for  the  head ;  or  little 
collered  peny  or  toe  peny  ribonings,  and  som  black 
patches,  or  som  prety  bobbs,  butt  ye  pearle  ones  are 
growne  very  old  fashion  now.'  Kings  may  be  de- 
throned and  Parliaments  may  totter,  but  Fashion  still 
rules  society  with  a  rod  of  iron ! 

Lord  Devonshire,  sixth  earl,  had  taken  refuge  in 
France  not  long  after  Sir  Ralph  went  there.  In 
December  1645,  he  was  sent  for  back  to  England 
under  pain  of  the  confiscation  of  all  his  estates  ;  he 
writes  to  tell  Sir  Ralph,  and  to  hope  he  will  return 
with  him.  Ralph  replies  that  he  finds  '  there  is  an 
almost  absolute  necessity  for  your  return  as  your  case 
stands.  I  wish  it  were  in  my  power  to  make  it  other- 
wise, but  since  there  is  no  remedy  but  patience  and 
you  must  needs  go,  begon  quickly  and  seem  to  do  it 


IN   EXILE  237 

cheerfully,  for  you  are  now  under  the  Lash  and  that 
of  the  most  severest  masters  that  ever  yet  were  read 
or  heard  of,  and  from  first  you  knew  full  well  'tis 
bootless  by  delays  or  otherwise  to  vex  them.  My 
Lord,  in  my  opinion  you  have  only  one  thing  now  to 
take  a  principal  care  of,  which  is  ye  covenant,  in 
which,  if  you  can  receive  a  full  and  entire  satisfaction, 
'tis  the  best,  if  not  I  know  what  ere  the  hazard  be, 
you  will  not  take  it.'  He  adds  that  '  his  friends/ 
he  finds,  '  generally  wish  him  homewards '  ;  he 
wishes  his  affairs  were  in  such  a  state  that  he 
might  take  advantage  of  Lord  Devonshire's  friendly 
offer.  The  latter,  after  his  arrival  in  England,  was 
kept  as  a  sort  of  hostage  at  Latimer,  his  place  in 
Bucks. 

For  a  whole  year  the  question  of  what  course  Sir 
Ralph  should  take,  is  debated  between  him  and  his 
friends  in  England.  By  a  resolution,  passed  in  De- 
cember 1645,  in  the  Parliament  it  was  declared  'the 
rendering  and  coming  in  of  persons  and  shall  be 
understood  of  such  persons  onely  as  shall  testifei 
their  affections  to  the  parliament  by  taking  the 
covenant,'  so  that,  as  he  says  in  a  letter  to  Lord 
Devonshire,  his  remaining  abroad  was  '  upon  the  same 
terms '  as  heretofore.  To  Henry  he  writes  :  '  You 
know  I  never  was  within  the  king's  quarters  nor 
never  contributed,  or  in  any  way  assisted  against 
them  :  absence  is  my  onely  crime,  and  you  know  I 
have  highly  suffered  for  that  already  and  was  neaver 
soe  much  as  somoned  to  returne  soe  noe  contempt 


238      VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

can  bee  layed  to  my  charge  ;  neither  have  I  refused 
to  pay  taxes.  Nay  more,  I  sent  in  horses  upon  the 
first  volluntary  propositions  soe  that  I  doe  nott  know 
that  by  any  ordinance  that  I  have  seene  I  can  be 
made  a  delinquent  butt  yett  I  stand  nott  upon  my 
justification.  I  know  that's  nott  ye  way  I  believe 
they  make  a  difference  in  crimes  or  elce  all  men's 
punishments  must  be  alike.' 

Sir  Roger  Burgoyne  writes  that  he  has  procured 
an  order  '  that  the  com*66  shall  certifie  the  cause  of 
their  sequestration  wth  power  to  examine  witnesses 
uppon  oath  ....  if  you  could  procure  us  certificates 
of  yr  livinge  soe  and  soe  longe  in  this  and  that  place 
happily  they  may  be  useful  to  us.' 

The  sequestration  of  Claydon  appears  to  have 
been  only  absolutely  carried  out  in  September  '46, 
though  the  ordinance  was  dated  '44,  in  which  Sir 
Ralph  had  been  named  a  delinquent,  and  his  tenants 
formally  warned  that  all  rents  would  have  to  be  handed 
over  to  the  Committee  of  Sequestration,  sitting  at 
Aylesbury.  His  friends  had  been  able  to  show  that 
his  estate  was  in  the  hands  of  trustees  for  the  pay- 
ment of  900Z.  a  year  of  debts  and  annuities,  but 
Roades  was  compelled  to  account  for  all  the  residue 
of  the  rents  to  the  committee.  The  list  of  persons 
mentioned  in  the  Ordinance  as  liable  to  be  dealt  with 
as  delinquents  is  very  comprehensive. 

Dr.  Denton  informs  Ralph  that  the  petitions  of 
those  who  compound  have  '  this  method '  running 
through  them  all — a  declaration  that  they  have 


IN   EXILE  239 

assisted  the  king  and  therefore  that  they  desire  to 
compound  for  their  delinquency.  Without  an  acknow- 
ledgment of  delinquency  no  petition  is  received. 
Ralph  writes  that  if  the  committee  will  not  take  off 
the  sequestration  he  must  compound,  '  but  if  they 
make  me  petition  as  others  doe  that  "A.  B.  humbly 
sheweth  hee  hath  assisted  the  king,"  etc.,  'tis  a 
notorious  lye,  for  I  never  assisted  him  in  my  life.' 
The  doctor  advises  that  if  he  can  make  some  '  steady 
potent  friends,'  as  Lord  Warwick,  he  believes  Ralph 
may  '  gett  a  dispatch  in  some  reasonable  time,  but 
that  must  be  by  speciall  favour.' 

With  this  end  in  view  it  was  decided  that  Lady 
Verney  should  come  to  England,  and  with  the  assist- 
ance of  all  the  friends  they  could  muster  get  the 
sequestration  removed.  Sir  Roger  Burgoyne,  15  Jan. 
1646,  writes  to  Sir  Ralph  :  '  as  for  your  friends  wifes 
comming  over  certainly  it  would  not  do  amiss  if  shee 
can  bring  hir  spirit  to  a  soliciting  temper  and  can  tell 
how  to  use  the  iuyce  of  an  onion  sometimes  to  soften 
hard  hearts.  I  spake  with  Gerrard.  I  beleeve  he 
will  be  friend,  but  I  cannot  learne  that  yet  any  have 
been  meerly  sequestred  for  not  taking  the  C.  .  .  .' 
Ralph  replies  :  '  As  to  writing  to  those  named  I  am 
very  doubtful  it  may  be  prejudicial  and  for  the  wife's 
coming  I  know  it  is  not  hard  for  a  wife  to  dissemble, 
but  there  is  like  to  be  no  need  of  that  for  where  ne- 
cessities are  so  great  the  j  uice  of  an  onion  will  be  use- 
less. Some  men  of  good  judgements  have  advised  me 
to  sit  still  awhile,  for  since  the  Committee  have  not 


240       VERXEY   FAMILY   DURING    THE   CIVIL   WAR 

/ 

meddled  witli  Claydon  and  there  being  some  hopes 
they  will  not  'tis  better  to  be  quiet.' 

In  August  '46  Dr.  Den  ton  gives  his  advice  to  the 
same  effect  :  '  I  am  cleere  of  opinion  the  best  course 
yu  can  take  is  to  send  over  mischeife  wth  all  the  speed 
yu  can,  and  to  place  yr  selfe  at  Deepe,  or  Calaies,  or 
some  other  maritime  towne  where  y11  may  receave  an 
account,  and  returne  answers  wth  speed  concern- 
inge  yr  owne  businesse,  not  to  touch  uppon  in- 
conveniences of  yr  comminge,  women  were  never  soe 
usefull  as  now,  and  though  y11  should  be  my  agent  and 
sollicitour  of  all  the  men  I  knowe  (and  therefore  much 
more  to  be  preferred  in  yr  owne  cause)  yett  I  am 
confident  if  yu  were  here,  yu  would  doe  as  our  sages 
doe.  instruct  y1'  wife,  and  leave  her  to  act  it  wth  com- 
mittees, their  sexe  intitles  them  to  many  priviledges, 
and  we  find  the  comfort  of  them  more  now  then 
ever.' 

'  The  legal  question  at  issue  soon  made  itself  clear. 
The  mere  absence  of  a  member  of  Parliament  from  his 
duties,  even  when  he  had  given  no  assistance  to  the 
King,  had  been  declared  to  be  delinquency  by  an 
order  of  the  House  of  Commons,  but  that  order  had 
not  been  confirmed  by  the  House  of  Lords.  The 
point  to  be  decided  was  whether  delinquency  could  be 
created  by  anything  short  of  an  Ordinance  of  Parlia- 
ment. On  February  25th,  1647,  the  Committee  of 
Lords  and  Commons  took  the  preliminary  step  to 
bring  this  question  to  an  issue  by  ordering  the  Bucks 
Committee  to  make  a  certificate  of  the  causes  of  Sir 


IN   EXILE  241 

Ralph's  delinquency.' l  But  before  this  Mary  had 
reached  England  ;  Sir  Ralph  wrote  to  Lord  Devon- 
shire that  '  unlesse  innocency  proove  a  crime,  I  shall 
not  utterly  despaire  of  a  returne.' 

Ralph  escorts  his  wife  to  the  coast,  and  writes 
from  Rouen  to  Henry  on  November  13,  '46  :  '  Tell 
your  good  aunt  that  Mischeife  is  coming  as  soon  as 
wee  can  finde  any  tollerable  passage  from  hence  to 
Diepe  (by  Callais  wee  durst  not  goe  for  the  Army  is 
now  going  into  Garrison  .  .  .  who  Rob  by  20  or 
30  in  a  company).  Of  late  the  weather  hath  been 
wonderfull  stormie,  and  the  windes  exceeding  high, 
soe  that  wee  must  attend  for  a  more  quiet  season  :  the 
marchants  and  shipmasters  heere  informe  mee  that 
in  one  storme  (about  six  weekes  since)  ther  was  42 
shipps  cast  away  uppon  the  coasts  of  England,  ther- 
fore  wee  have  reason  to  bee  very  wary.'  It  is  evident 
that  he  took  all  possible  care  of  his  beloved  '  Mischief/ 
and  was  greatly  troubled  at  having  to  let  her  make 
this  expedition  without  him.  He  wrote  special  letters 
of  thanks  to  the  two  gentlemen  to  whose  charge  he 
confided  her,  for  their  care  in  '  conducting  '  her  on  the 
journey,  and  the  following  note,  written  near  mid- 
night a  few  days  after  her  departure,  shows  how 
keenly  he  felt  the  separation  :  '  My  deare  Hart,  though 
the  winde  held  fare,  and  the  weather  good  till  Satter- 
day  at  night,  soe  that  I  have  all  the  hopes  that  can. 
bee  of  thy  saife  arrivall,  yett  I  confesse  a  letter  from 
thee  now  [Tuesday  night]  to  give  mee  a  full  assurance 

1  Gardiner's  Great  Civil  War,  vol.  iii.  p.  312. 
VOL.  IF.  R 


242      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

would  bee  more  welcome  to  mee  then  ever,  especially 
if  it  tolde  every  perticuler  how  thou  hast  been  since  I 
saw  thee  .  .  .  'tis  now  soe  exceeding  late  that  I  can 
only  intreate  thee  to  bee  carefull  of  thy  selfe,  and  make 
hast  back  againe  to  mee,  for  the  greife  of  our  fatall 
separation  is  not  to  bee  expressed  by  Thy  [un- 
signed].' 

Amongst  the  scraps  of  manuscript  that  have  come 
back  from  Blois  to  Claydon,  and  have  so  long  out- 
lasted the  hands  that  traced  their  faded  characters,  are 
many  bits  of  verse,  and  songs  sung  to  the  guitar. 
More  than  one  copy  has  been  made  of  Henry  Lawes' 
•exquisite  lines  '  To  his  Mistress  going  to  Sea.' l  They 
must  surely  ever  after  have  brought  back  to  Ralph's 
mind  that  parting  with  Mary. 

Fayrewell  fayre  sainte,  may  not  the  seas  and  winde 
Swell  like  the  Hearts  and  Eyes  yon  leave  beehinde, 
Hut  calm  and  gentle  like  the  lookes  you  weare 
Smile  in  your  Face  and  whisper  in  your  Eare. 


\'0ut  of  Ayres  and  Dialogues,  published  1653. 


243 


CHAPTER    XL 

» 

MARY    LADY    VERNEY    '  SOLICITING.' 

From  villany  dress'd  in  a  doublet  of  zeal  .   .   . 
From  a  preacher  in  buff,  and  a  quarter-staff  steeple, 
From  th'  unlimited  sovereign  power  of  the  people, 
From  a  kingdom  that  crawls  on  its  knees  like  a  cripple, 

Libera  nos,  etc. 
From  a  hunger-starved  sequestrators  maw.  .   .   . 

Libera  nos.  etc. 
A  Lenten  Litany. — CLEVELAND. 

DURING  the  time  that  Lady  Verney  was  in  England 
looking  after  her  husband's  affairs,  they  kept  up  a 
regular  and  detailed  correspondence,  and  their  letters 
are  certainly  among  the  most  interesting  of  the 
manuscripts  preserved  at  Clay  don.  The  task  which 
she  had  undertaken  was  a  very  difficult  one,  par- 
ticularly for  a  woman,  but  she  applied  herself  to  it 
with  characteristic  spirit  and  tact,  and  scarcely  com- 
plained of  the  sufferings  and  illnesses  she  went 
through,  except  in  so  far  as  they  hindered  her  work. 
She  had  to  fight  against  enemies  and  friends,  Lords 
and  Commons,  Committees  who  would  not  sit,  fear- 
ful members  who  would  not  vote  ;  she  had  to  ad- 
minister '  French  toys  '  in  one  direction,  a  watch  in 
another  ;  and  to  distribute  hard  money,  according 

E2 


244      VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   AVAR 

to  good  advice,  to  the  immaculate  members  and  their 
wives.  She  had  to  stand  up  for  her  husband's  rights 
against  the  rnen  who  owed  him  money  and  would  not 
or  could  not  pay,  and  the  still  more  numerous  set  who 
had  claims  upon  him.  The  debts,  it  must  be  remem- 
bered, were  almost  all  Sir  Edmund's,  and  Sir  Ralph 
had  only  borrowed  in  order  to  pay  the  interest  upon 
his  father's  liabilities  ;  yet  there  is  not  a  line  of  bit- 
terness and  scarcely  even  any  observation  of  the  fact. 
The  revenues  of  Claydon  barely  sufficed  to  pay  what 
was  due  to  Sir  Edmund's  creditors  ;  but  Sir  Ralph 
had  taken  up  the  heavy  burden  without  a  murmur, 
and  his  wife  is  content  to  share  it  with  him,  although 
for  a  time  they  are  reduced  to  living  almost  entirely 
on  her  fortune. 

A  set  of  cypher  names  had  been  agreed  on  between 
husband  and  wife  before  they  parted,  and  they  must 
have  had  some  amusement  in  settling  them  together. 
Lady    Sussex,    now    Lady    Warwick,    was   happily 
described  as  'Old  men's  wife,'   Sir  Roger  Burgoyne 
as  '  Mr.  Good,'    Fairfax  as  '  Brave,'  Frank  Drake  is 
'  Purchase,'  the  sequestration  and  sequestrators  are 
'  Chaine  '  and  '  Chainors,'  the  covenant  is  '  Phisick,' 
money  is  '  Lead,'  property  which  had  shown  such  an 
aptitude  to  fly  away  appears  as  '  Feathers,'  the  Com- 
mittee of  Lords  and  Commons  are  '  Freinds  Hault  et 
Bas/  the  Lords   alone    '  Hault '   and  the  Commons 
'  Bas,'  the  Bucks  Committee  are  '  Hens,'  apparently 
from  the  name  of  one  of  the  members  ;  there  are  also 
cypher  names  of  places — '  Coales '  for  Newcastle,  etc., 


MARY   LADY    VERXEY   'SOLICITING'  245 

but   in   copying  the  letters  the  proper  names  have 
generally  been  inserted. 

Mary  arrived  in  England  the  end  of  November, 
1646,  and  writes  to  Ralph  on  the  26th  :  '  We  are  at 
this  very  instant  safely  arrived  hear  in  Southwark, 
but  soe  extreamly  weary  that  I  can  scarce  hold  my 
penn.  .  .  We  weare  in  great  fear  of  being  stopped 
at  the  gardes,  but  by  very  great  fortune  we  passed, 
not  being  suspishiously  acomodated.'  She  had  been 
kindly  treated  at  Rye  by  the  Cockrams  ;  he  and  his 
wife  '  furneshed  me  with  all  acomodation  both  for 
horses  and  selfe.  I  left  Sir  Edward  Herbert  and  my 
Lady  at  Rye  .  .  .  they  both  came  to  see  me,  and 
told  me  they  wear  sorry  they  mett  me  nott  sooner,  to 
have  prevented  me,  as  thinking  itt  a  very  unfitt  time 
to  doe  my  business.  Really  they  wear  both  more 
curtious  then  evor  in  theyr  lives.  ...  I  find  my 
change  of  diett  breed  a  very  great  allteration  in  me 
already,  but  I  hope  in  God  I  shall  be  better  when  I 
am  settled.  I  long  for  nothing  more  then  to  hear 
thou  art  safe  at  Bloyse,  and  wish  for  noething  in  this 
world  soe  much  as  to  be  with  thee  again e.' 

December  3. — '  Neyther  the  ay  re  nor  diett  agrees 
with  me,  butt  I  shall  make  all  the  hast  out  of  itt  that 
I  can,  though  I  feare  twill  be  longe  first  for  I  find 
business  of  this  nature  are  extreamly  tedious,  but  if 
it  pleas  God  to  give  me  my  helth  I  will  nott  neglect 
one  minutes  time.  I  have  had  soe  much  company 
every  day  since  I  came,  that  I  have  nott  stirred  forth 
of  dores,  onely  one  day  to  my  sister  Alpott's  [Susan 


246      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   AVAR 

Alport]  who  made  an  invitation  to  me,  and  a  very 
great  dinner.  .  .  .  Here  hath  bin  Sir  Roger,  whoe 
expresseth  more  afection  and  love  to  you  then  tis 
posseble  for  me  to  wright,  and  saith  ifhehadknowne 
you  would  have  come  to  the  sea  side,  he  would  have 
ventured  to  have  seen  you.  Truly  I  think  he  is  a 
very  reall  frend,  which  is  a  thing  very  diffecult  to 
find  in  these  times.  .  .  .  There  is  one  Mr.  Pellum,  a 
lawyer  of  the  Bas  [the  House  of  Commons]  .  .  . 
He  knows  you  very  well,  he  is  a  man  of  Power  and 
by  Aunt  Eures  interest  in  him  will  doe  you  very  much 
good.  I  was  at  his  chamber  last  night,  and  his 
opinion  is,  you  are  nott  chainable  [i.e.  liable  to 
sequestration]  for  he  saith  you  were  chained  onely 
by  an  order  of  the  House  and  not  by  an  ordinance, 
and  he  assures  me  bare  order  is  nott  sufficient,  having 
nothing  but  absence  against  you,  butt  others  are  nott 
of  his  opinion.  ...  I  am  att  very  great  charge  here, 
for  I  pay  twelve  shilling  a  week  for  a  chamber  for 
myselfe  and  another  for  my  mayde  twoe  pare  of 
staires  high,  fire,  candles,  washing,  breakfast  and 
diet  besides.  .  .  .  Coaches  are  most  infenett  dear,  and 
there  is  noe  stirring  forth  without  one  or  a  chaire,  the 
towne  was  neavor  so  full  as  tis  now.  I  was  forced  to 
take  up  £50  upon  Will  Roades  and  my  owne  bond  ; 
Harry  procured  the  mony  ;  £20  of  itt  was  for  him  to 
sattisfy  soe  much  of  the  £100  as  was  taken  up  for 
peggs  [Margaret  Elmes]  mariage.  Indeed  he  was  very 
Impatient  for  itt,  and  though  I  knew  you  did  nott 
promise  to  pay  thatt  dept  untell  the  other  were  sattis- 


MAKY   LADY   VERNEY   'SOLICITING'  247 

fied,  yett  I  thought  it  was  better  to  doe  itt  then  to- 
anger  him  toe  much,  for  to  say  truth  he  is  very  kind, 
and  soe  is  the  Dr.  and  follows  your  busines  very 
hertily.  Aunt  Eure  is  very  kind  and  makes  very 
much  of  me,  indeed  I  could  nott  have  been  soe  well 
any  where  in  this  towne.  .  .  .  Will  Roades  is  now 
in  towne  and  they  [the  family]  are  ready  to  teare 
him  in  pieces,  butt  I  have  told  him  whoesoever  suffers, 
you  must  be  supplyed.' 

Ralph  replies :  '  I  see  you  are  at  a  very  greate  charge 
if  that  make  you  hast  back  heather  tis  well,  for  I 
confesse  I  shall  rejoyse  at  anything  that  shall  bring 
thee  to  me  againe,  though  at  present  money  goes  very 
hardly  from  mee  ;  but  while  thou  doest  stay,  loose 
noe  time  in  thy  busines  that  soe  nearely  concernes 
thee  and  mee  and  thine,  nor  spare  anything  for  thy 
health.  ...  I  am  sorry  you  did  not  put  of  Sue's 
invitation,  for  Feasting  agrees  not  with  your  condition, 
being  not  able  to  returne  the  like.  Avoyd  it  hereafter, 
and  make  some  better  use  of  your  freinds  love,  if  it 
bee  possible.  Make  as  few  visits,  and  use  as  few 
coaches  as  you  can  ;  for  on  looseth  time,  and  the 
other  spends  money.  Rather  keepe  a  good  fire,  and 
be  merry  with  your  freinds  at  Home.  ...  I  am  very 
sorry  you  have  been  forced  to  take  upp  money 
already,  for  though  tis  hard  to  get  into  debt,  yet  tis 
much  harder  to  come  out  of  it.  It  seems  Harry  had 
20  pounds  of  it  [of  the  £50  which  Mary  had  had  to 
raise]  and  you  but  30  pounds,  truly  I  was  noe  way 
obliged  to  pay  that  20  pounds  soe  soone,  therfore  J 


248      VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

must  woonder  hee  should  presse  you  for  it ;  if  you 
doe  not  resolve  not  to  give  care  to  any  solicitations  of 
that  nature,  you  will  never  bee  at  quiet,  nor  keepe  the 
love  of  your  freinds  ;  for  if  Dr.  Denton,  Mistress 
Jsham,  DollLeeke  and  some  others  should  presse  you  to 
clo  the  same,  if  you  refuse  them,  theres  a  quarrell ;  for 
why  should  you  not  take  upp  money  to  pay  that  which 
I  owe  them  uppon  bond  as  well  as  to  pay  that  which 
I  gave  another  of  my  owne  free  will.  Take  heed,  my 
deare  Budd,  for  this  is  a  most  daingerous  precedent, 
therefore  conceale  it.  Once  more,  Deare  Hart,  let  mee 
begg  of  thee  to  dispatch  thy  businesses  quickly,  before 
your  freinds  affections  coole,  that  thou  mayest  speedily 
returne  back  to  him  whose  love  dayly  encreaseth, 
even  beyond  thy  immagenation  or  the  expression  of 
thy  most  faithfull  Ralph  Yerney.' 

In  the  next  letter  Mary  writes  :  '  There  cannot  be 
any  thing  donn  [in  your  business]  untell  we  have 
a  certificate  from  the  "  committee  "  in  the  country 
wherefore  you  were  sequestered  ;  and  then  they  say 
we  must  petition  the  committees  in  both  Houses  after 
we  have  made  all  the  frendes  that  posseble  we  can  ; 
and  if  we  can  gett  off  we  shall  be  hapy,  elce  we  shall 
be  referred  to  Goldsmiths  Hall  where  we  must  expect 
nothing  but  cruelty,  and  the  paing  of  more  lead  then 
I  feare  we  can  posseble  make.  This  is  the  day  there 
of  Dr.  Denton' s  hearing ;  how  he  will  come  off  as 
yett  I  know  nott.  .  .  .  One  Satterday  last  a  great 
many  compounded.  My  Lord  of  Dorset  paid  £5,000, 
and  he  presently  overed  the  comittee  his  whole  estate 


MARY   LADY   VERNEY   'SOLICITING' 

for  £6,000,  they  paing  his  depts.  .  .  .  All  the  fear 
here  now  is  betweene  the  Presbeteriens  and  the  Inde- 
pendents ;  they  beginn  allready  to  come  to  the  House 
in  tumults.  Upon  Friday  there  was  a  thowsand  came 
downe  to  the  House  to  demand  sixe  of  their  owne 
men  which  were  comitted,  and  they  were  presently 
released.  ...  I  am  most  extreamly  weary  of  this 
place  for  hear  is  noething  of  frendship  left,  but  all  the 
falceness  that  can  be  imagined.  Except  Sir  R.  Bur- 
goyne  here  hath  not  been  any  of  that  syde,  onely 
once  Frank  Drake,  whoe  is  soe  fearfull  and  timerous, 
that  he  dares  nott  look  upon  those  he  hath  heretofore 
professed  freindship  toe.  The  greatest  freyndshipp 
•one  can  expect  from  most  here  is  nott  to  be  one's 
enymie.  One  Satterday  last  I  was  with  ye  old  men's 
wife  [Lady  Warwick  J  whoe  used  me  very  cyvelly 
and  enquired  very  kindly  how  you  did  and  the  chil- 
dren, and  alsoe  of  your  estate,  butt  offered  me  noething 
at  all  of  curtesy,  yett  I  was  alone  wth  her  an  hower 
together  and  urged  her  a  little  to  itt  for  I  told  her 
very  many  times  that  itt  was  frends  which  did  all, 
which  1  doupt  was  hard  to  be  found  and  wth  out  them 
nothing  could  be  donne.  But  for  al  this  she  did  not 
offer  to  engadge  her  selfe  for  her  husband  nor  any 
other  curtesy.  I  caried  the  watch  butt  brought  itt 
away  againe  as  nott  thinking  itt  fitt  to  bestow  there. 
I  think  I  shall  sell  itt  for  the  vallue  of  therty  pistolls. 
One  cheyfe  end  of  my  going  to  her  was  for  yr 
wrightings  which  you  apointe  me  to  take  out,  but  the 
trunk  is  nott  in  towne  she  hath  sent  for  itt,  but  I  fear 


250      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

ye  soe  long  tareing  for  itt  will  be  a  great  prejudice  to 
us.  Her  mayden  daughter  [Anne  Lee]  is  extreamly 
kind  to  -me.  I  gave  her  the  little  boxe.  ...  I  find 
she  [Lady  Warwick]  hath  nott  delt  very  well  by 
her.' 

After  this  Mary  does  not  write  for  three  weeks. 
She  has  been  for  eighteen  days  in  bed  with  a  fever, 
and  much  distressed  in  mind,  so  that  she  could  not 
proceed  with  her  husband's  business.    On  January  7, 
'47,  she  writes  :  '  I  prayse  god  I  am  very  much  better 
then  I  was,  and  my  feavor  hath  left  me,  onely  itt  hath 
brought  me  soe  low  that  I  am  not  able  to  goe  twise 
the  lenth  of  the  chamber,  and  I  am  soe  extreamly 
opressed  with  mellencollick  that  I  am  almost  ready 
to  burst ;  and,  to  add  to  my  greater  misfortune,  my 
mayde  is  new  fallen  sick,  soe  that  I  am  in  soe  great  a 
straight  thatt  I  know  nott  what  in  the  world  to  doer 
for  tis  a  torment  to  me  to  have  a  strainger  come 
neare  me,  but  I  trust  god  will  give  me  patience  to 
beare  all  these  aflictions.     Truly  Dr  [Denton]  hath 
bin  and  is  very  carefull  of  me.'     She  then  goes  on  to 
tell  how  Lady  Dacre's  man  has  been  asking  about 
the  money  owed  by  Ralph,  and  saying  if  his  land 
had  been  made  over  to  Lady  Dacre  she  might  have 
been  paid  it,  and  secured  the  property  from  seques- 
tration ;  to  which  Lady  Verney  replied  that  it  would 
not  have  been  much  advantage  to  her  as  the  taxe& 
come  to  almost  as  much  as  the  revenue.     '  I  have 
nott  any  creature  to  send  out  to  enquire  for  a  ship 
or  any  thing  else,  for  Hary's  man  is  such  a  finecall 


MARY   LADY   VERNEY    'SOLICITING'  251 

fellow  that  he  thinks  much  to  be  sent  forth  of 
any  ordynary  errant.  ...  I  had  butt  £25  of  that 
which  we  took  up,  for  there  was  noe  sattisfiing 
Hary  without  £25  ;  truly  he  was  allmost  out- 
ragious.  .  .  .'  In  the  next  letter  :  '  Harry  is  very 
kind,  but  yet  we  have  had  little  short  disputes  about 
your  estate.  .  .  .  All  my  endeavors  are  to  han- 
somely  putt  him  from  the  thoughts  of  liveing  with 
us  ;  for  truly  he  is  at  a  most  mighty  heith  both  in 
his  diett  and  atendance  and  all  things  else ;  I  beleeve 
he  foules  more  linnen  in  one  week  than  you  doe  in 
three.  .  .  .  We  are  very  great,  therefore  keepe  very 
faire  with  him,  butt  yett  I  find  that  he  is  all  for  his 
owne  ends.' 

Again  and  again  Mary  expresses  her  gratitude  to 
Dr.  Denton.  Once  she  says,  '  he  is  onely  a  little 
chargable,'  and  that  she  has  to  try  and  keep  him 
from  going  to  many  lawyers,  who  are  very  dear  and 
not  much  use,  '  for  tis  nott  law  now  but  favour.' 
She  hopes  the  business  of  the  sequestration  may  not 
come  before  the  House  of  Commons,  '  because  ti& 
very  tedious  and  very  difficult  to  come  off  from 
thence.  .  .  .' 

'  Now  for  ye  old  men's  wife.  I  sent  your  letters 
to  her,  and  her  daughter  Ane,  whoe  is  very  kind,  and 
I  dare  say  loves  us,  &  truly  soe  is  ye  Mother ;  she 
came  once  herselfe  to  see  me  since  I  was  sick  and  hath 
sent  to  me  very  often.  Once  she  sent  me  a  pheasant 
and  2  bottles  of  wine  ;  butt,  poore  woeman,  I  think 
she  hath  made  herselfe  very  poore,  &  I  beleeve  hath 


252      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

very  little  power,  for  she  lives  in  ye  howse  like  a 
stranger,  &  doth  not  meddle  with  anything,  onely 
she  gives  toe  partes  of  three  of  her  estate  for  her 
diett ;  her  nue  husband  hath  not  made  her  a  peny 
Joynture  ;  neyther  did  he  ever  give  her  anything 
butt  one  ring  of  diomans.  nor  ever  gave  yc  Daughter 
ye  worth  of  sixe  pence  ;  neyther  hath  she  donn  any 
thing  at  all  for  her  ;  for  if  she  could  but  have  made 
up  her  portion  foure  or  five  thousand  I  could  by  Mr. 
Lodge's  [Henry  Verney's]  means  have  helped  to  a 
very  great  fortune — above  three  thousand  a  year, 
cleare  estat — a  cousin  of  yours  of  your  owne  name  ; 
but,  however,  if  I  find  ye  mother's  husband  may  be 
usefull  to  us,  I  will  put  her  to  itt  though  she  offer 
nothing.  ...  I  neavor  wright  you  noe  nues,  be- 
cause I  beleeve  others  doth  doe  that,  and  indeed  .  .  . 
J  have  nott  roome  for  to  tell  the  crueltees  that  are 
donn,  and  how  barbarous  a  place  this  is  would  take 
up  a  greatt  deale  of  paper.  .  .  .  Your  Lady  neigh- 
bour at  Twyford  is  very  angry  with  us  becaus  we 
doe  nott  keepe  one  of  Sir  Alexander]  D[enton's] 
chilldren  ;  but  Mist.  Is[ham]  answer  her  very 
well  that  we  had  more  need  get  somebody  to  keep 
some  of  your  brothers  or  sisters.  .  .  .  Concerning 
your  removing  from  the  place  you  are  in,  I  leave  itt 
wholly  to  thee,  for  beleeve,  my  dere  hart,  soe  I  have 
but  thy  company  I  care  not  in  what  towne  itt  is  or 
whether  I  have  any  other  company  or  nott ;  for  if 
please  god  to  bring  me  to  thee  againe  I  assure  thee 
itt  should  be  a  very  strang  occasion  could  evor 


MARY   LADY    VERNEY   'SOLICITING'  253 

make  me  goe  from  thee  againe.     I  think  there  could 
noething  come  to  make  me  doe  itt,  for  truly,  my  hart, 
I  find  myselfe  very  unable  to  beare  such  a  separation. 
For    Monsr  Godbeits'   house  I  doe  not  like  it  upon 
noe  termes,  for  tis  very  Dull   and  close  and  Incon- 
venient. .  .  .  For  my  part  if  pleas   god   to  enable 
us  to  keepe  a  coach  I  shal  like  the  other  place  as 
well.  ...  I  am  most  impatient  to  be  with  thee,  for 
though  everybody  here  is  very  jolly,  yett  I  nevor 
hadd  soe  sadd  a  time  in  all  my  life.'     In  the  next 
letter  she  speaks  of  arrangements  for  her  confinement 
and  says  :   '  I  fear  twill  be  imposseble  to   dispatch 
our  business  here  time  enoughe  to  come  to  thee  to 
lye  in,  the  very  thought  of  which  goes  to  the  very 
soule  of  me,  for  to  be  soe  long  from  thee,  and  to  lye 
inn  without  thee,  is  a  greater  afliction  then  I  feare  I 
shall   be  able  to  beare,  but  I  shall  dayly  pray  for 
patience.   ...    I  pay  her  [Mrs.  Eure]  £1  a  week 
for  diett  for  my  selfe  and  mayde  .  .  .  she  would  nott 
name  any  thing,  soe  I  knew  not  what  to  doe  ;  but 
my  brother  told  me  he  once  mentioned  that  somme 
to  her,  so  I  bid  him  offere  itt  ...  which  she  took 
and  was  very  well  content.  .  .  .  All  provisions  are 
most  extreamly  dear,  beef  4d,  veal  and  mutton  8d  per 
Ib  ;  corn  above  8s  the  bushel.    Fammin  is  very  much 
feared.  ...  I  have  now  receaved  your  letter  dated 
10th  Jan.,  which,  though  itt  was  butt  a  kind  of  an 
angry  chiding  letter   [he   had  complained   that  her 
letters  were  too  short],  yett  I  forgive  thee,  because 
thou  didest  nott  know  how  sick  I  was  when  I  writt 


254      VERNEY    FAMILY   DURING    THE   CIVIL   WAR 

that  little  short  letter,  or  noat,  as  you  call  it.  ...  I 
have  here  at  my  lodging  the  trunk  .  .  .  and  a  little 
black  boxe.  ...  I  find  they  would  be  troublesom  to 
ye  old  men's  wife  ;  she  allsoe  this  day  sent  me  home 
the  black  cloth  bedd  and  chayres,  and  lett  me  pay  for 
ye  bringing  them,  which  was  nott  soe  hansomly  donn,' 
A  little  later  she  tells  of  more  friendly  conduct  on 
the  part  of  Lady  Warwick  :  '  Her  daughter  hath 
been  extreamly  sick  of  a  feaver,  &  is  still  very  ill  ; 
I  sent  my  mayd  the  other  day  to  see  her  ;  &  old 
men's  wife  sent  for  her  into  her  &  expressed  very 
much  kindnes  to  us  both,  &  sent  me  word  if  she 
could  doe  me  any  good  in  our  business  she  be  very 
ready.' 

January  28,  1647  :  '  Here  was  neavor  greater 
expectation  than  is  now,  nor  people  between  more 
hopes  and  feares  of  a  nue  warr  then  at  the  present, 
and  1  beleeve  will  be  soe  ontell  the  comissioners 
retourne.' 

In  December  Parliament  had  agreed  to  pay  the 
Scotch  army  400,000/.  The  king  was  to  be  delivered 
up  to  nine  commissioners  despatched  from  West- 
minster to  conduct  him  to  Holmby  House,  where  he 
was  to  be  kept  prisoner.  For  more  than  a  year  past 
the  Independents,  strong  in  the  support  of  the  army, 
had  been  gaining  power.  But  within  the  walls  of 
Parliament  the  Presbyterians  were  still  able  to  make 
head  against  them,  sometimes  even  to  carry  measures 
in  their  despite,  and  the  struggle  between  the  two 
parties  added  to  the  disorganisation  of  public  affairs. 


MARY   LADY   VERNE Y   'SOLICITING'  255 

In  February  Mary  was  much  hindered  in  her 
business  by  the  Committee  of  Sequestration  not 
sitting  for  three  weeks,  and  without  an  order  from 
them  she  could  not  get  the  certificate  from  the  Ayles- 
bury  Committee. 

'  Those  villaines  in  the  contry  might  have  given 
me  a  certificate,  if  they  had  pleased,  without  putting 
me  to  this  trouble.  .  .  .  There  was  neavor  soe  much 
disorder  as  is  now  in  this  towne,  for  every  one  is  as 
much  discontented  as  tis  posseble.  The  Buttchers 
have  begun  the  way  to  all  the  rest,  for  within  this 
toe  dayes  they  all  did  rise  upon  the  exise  man,  and 
Burnt  downe  the  exise  howse,  and  flung  the  exise 
money  forth  into  the  middle  of  the  street,  and  they 
say  hurt  some  of  the  exise  men.  The  Houses  were 
in  much  disorder  upon  this,  but  dares  not  hang  any 
of  them  ;  they  say  they  will  leave  them  to  the  law. 
which  cannott  hang  them,  for  the  law  onely  makes 
itt  a  riott  ;  but  they  will  not  take  off  the  exise.  and 
the  butchers  have  all  sworne  that  they  will  nott  kill 
one  bitt  of  meat  ontell  tis  taken  off.  The  Houses 
have  sate  this  3  dayes  about  disbanding  the  armies  ; 
some  say  tis  for  feare  they  should  turne  against 
them.  .  .  .  The  committee  in  the  country  are  very 
malitious  and  extreamly  Insolent.' 

'  4th  Mar.  Most  men  tell  me  they  beleeve  you 
will  come  off  if  we  gett  a  faire  certiffycate.'  Henry 
has  been  asking  Ralph  to  sell  him  a  pension  of  201.  a 
year,  but  Mary  wisely  remarks  that  his  revenue  is 
not  enough  to  pay  all  the  pensions  he  has  already 


256      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

besides  keeping  his  own  family,  and  that  it  would 
be  unwise  to  add  to  his  liabilities  before  he  knew 
whether  the  sequestration  would  be  taken  off,  and 
whether  his  debts  would  make  it  necessary  to  sell 
Claydon.  '  Sir  Richard  Pigott  sent  a  very  civell 
message  that  he  was  to  goe  into  the  country  about  a 
fortnight  or  three  weeks  hence,  but  if  there  was  any 
thing  he  could  serve  me  in  sooner,  he  would  goe 
downe  one  purpose.  .  .  .  He  is  chaireman  ther,  and 
they  say  hath  great  creditt  amongst  them.  ...  I 
meane  ...  to  goe  to  him  before  he  goes  downe.  .  .  . 
Indeed  I  am  Impatient  ontell  I  am  with  thee  ;  and 
soe,  my  Deare  Roge,  I  am  confydent  thou  beleevest 
of  thine  owne.' 

On  March  1 1  Mary  describes  another  interview 
witli  Lady  Warwick  : 

'  Upon  tuseday  I  went  to  see  the  old  men's  wife, 
it  being  ye  ferst  time  since  my  sicknes  ;  she  made 
very  much  of  me  ;  &  asked  very  much  after  you  ; 
but  one  can  neavor  find  her  alone,  for  her  howse 
is  alwayes  like  a  court ;  before  I  came  away  her 
husband  and  my  lord  of  holland  came  in  ;  as  soon  as 
my  Lo  :  of  Holl  :  saw  me  he  came  to  me  &  asked 
for  you  extreamly  cyvelly,  &  told  me  that  al  ye 
sarvis  that  lay  in  his  power  he  would  be  ready  to 
doe  us ;  but  her  husband  sate  like  a  clowne  and 
sayed  noething  and  yet  she  told  him  whoe  I  was  : 
poore  sister  Nan  is  most  extreamly  sick  still  and 
hath  every  day  toe  docters  wth  her  ;  they  say  she  is 
not  in  sudaine  danger  ;  truly  I  should  be  very  much 


MARY   LADY   VERNEY   'SOLICITING'  257 

greived  if  pleas  god  should  die,  for  we  should  loose  a 
very  good  frend  that  loves  us  ;  her  mother  desired 
very  much  that  you  would  excuse  her  y*  she  had 
writ  noe  oftner  to  you  ;  but  she  sayes  she  loves  you 
as  well  as  evor  she  did  ;  truly  I  think  she  hath  not 
time  to  wright  or  doe  any  thing  elce  ;  the  howse  is 
bravely  furneshed  wth  all  her  stuff  that  was  you  know 
where  :  but  I  beleeve  they  all  thought  themselves 
hapier  in  the  old  place  ;  most  of  ye  old  sarvants  are 
wth  her  still.' 

Ralph  writes  in  reply  :  '  I  hope  Old  men's  wife  will 
shew  herselfe  a  freind  indeed  when  time  serves  and 
need  requires,  and  I  beleeve  that  Noble  Lord  her 
Brother  in  Law  [i.e.  Lord  Holland]  will  doe  you  any 
service  hee  can,  for  hee  is  a  gentleman  :  but  for  that 
Vinaigre  Faced  fellow  her  husband,  I  trust  wee  shall 
have  noe  occation  to  use  him,  and  I  should  account  it 
a  perticular  blessing  to  dispatch  my  businesse  well, 
without  beeing  beholding  to  him,  or  any  such  un- 
worthy, &  ill-natured  creatures.' 

On  April  8  Mary  writes  again :  '  I  have  been 
twice  within  this  week  with  ye  old  men's  wife  ;  she 
excuses  her  selfe  much  y*  she  doth  nott  wright  to 
you,  she  sweares  she  hath  nott  time  ;  she  spake  to 
her  husband  and  he  was  was  att  ye  Comittee  for  me  ; 
therefore  I  thinke  itt  would  not  doe  amiss  if  you 
writt  her  thanks  ;  she  is  now  goeing  into  ye  Country 
at  a  place  of  ye  king's  called  nonesuch  ;  poore  nan  is 
very  weake  still.'  16  May. — '  You  desire  to  know  how 
old  men's  wife  playes  her  part,  and  in  your  latter 

VOL.  n.  s 


258      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL    WAR 

letter  you  say  thatt  tis  nott  her  husband  bare  appear- 
ing thatt  you  shall  thank  her  for  ;  truly  then  you 
must  nott  thank  her  for  any  thing  ;  for  butt  his 
promise  to  be  once  att  the  comittee  when  itt  hapned 
that  they  did  nott  sitt  thatt  day  att  all ;  I  neavor 
since  I  came  receaved  any  curtesie  from  eyther  of 
them  ;  tis  true  when  I  goe  to  see  her  she  doth  aske 
very  kindly  after  you  and  after  your  business  ;  butt 
thatt  is  all.' 

There  is  a  loving  dispute  between  the  husband 
and  wife  about  the  expected  baby's  name.  Mary 
writes  :  '  If  itt  be  a  boy  I  am  resollved  to  have  itt 
of  thy  owne  name,  therefore  I  charge  you  doe  nott 
contredict  itt ;  but  if  itt  be  a  gerle  I  leave  it  wholly 
to  thee  to  chuse.  ...  I  will  be  governed  by  thee 
in  anything  but  the  name  if  it  be  a  boy,  for  to  tell 
the  truth  I  must  have  itt  have  thy  name.  And  for 
the  suddaine  crisning  I  will  obay  thee,  and  gett  a 
minester  in  the  howse  that  will  doe  itt  the  old  way, 
for  tis  nott  the  fashion  heare  to  have  godfathers  or 
godmothers,  butt  for  the  father  to  bring  the  child  to 
church  and  answer  for  itt.  .  .  .  Truly  one  lives  like 
a  heathen  in  this  place  ;  since  I  have  recovered  my 
helth  I  have  gonn  to  our  parrish  church,  but  could 
neavor  but  one  time  get  any  roome  there  for  all  the 
money  1  offered.  And  eyther  I  must  be  at  the 
charge  to  hire  a  coach  to  trye  all  the  churches  or 
else  sitt  at  home  ;  and  when  one  getts  roome  one 
heares  a  very  strange  kind  of  sarvis,  and  in  such  a 
tone  that  most  people  doe  noething  but  laughe  at 


MARY   LADY   VERNE Y   'SOLICITING'  259 

itt.1  And  everybody  that  receaves  must  be  examined 
before  the  elders,  whoe  they  all  swere  asketh  them 
such  questions  that  would  make  one  blush  to  relate/ 
Ralph  replies  :  '  Now  for  the  name.  If  it  bee  a 
girle  and  that  you  have  noe  conceit  because  the  other 
died,  1  desire  it  may  bee  Mary  ;  but  if  it  bee  a  boy, 
in  earnest  you  must  not  deny  mee,  let  it  bee  Richard 
or  what  you  please,  except  my  owne  name.  Really 
I  shall  take  it  ill  if  you  contradict  mee  in  this.  If 
it  bee  a  sonne  I  trust  God  will  make  him  a  better  and 
a  happier  man  then  his  father.  Xow  for  the  Christen- 
ing. I  pray  give  noe  offence  to  the  State  ;  should  it 
bee  donn  in  the  old  way  perhapps  it  may  bring  more 
trouble  uppon  you  then  you  can  immagen,  and  all  to 
noe  purpose,  for  soe  it  bee  donn  with  common  ordinarie 
water,  and  that  these  words,  "  I  baptise  thee  in  the 
name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Sonne,  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,"  bee  used  with  the  water,  I  know  the 
child  is  well  baptised.  All  the  rest  is  but  matter  of 
forme  and  cerirnoney  which  differs  almost  in  every 

1  With  speech  unthought,  quick  revelation, 
With  boldness  in  predestination, 
With  threats  of  absolute  damnation  .   .  . 
See  a  new  preacher  of  the  town, 
O  the  town,  O  the  town's  new  teacher  ! 

With  troops  expecting  him  at  th'  door, 

That  would  hear  sermons,  and  no  more  ; 

With  noting  tools,  and  sighs  great  store, 

With  Bibles  great  to  turn  them  o'er, 

While  he  wrests  places  by  the  score, 
See  a  new  preacher  of  the  town, 
O  the  town,  O  the  town's  new  teacher  ! 

CLEVELAND. 

s   2 


260      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

country,  and  though  I  must  needs  like  one  forme 
better  then  another,  yet  wee  must  not  bee  soe  wedded 
to  any  tiling  of  that  nature,  as  to  breake  the  union 
by  a  needlesse  seperation  in  such  indifferent  things 
of  the  Church.  .  .  .  If  you  cannot  have  convenient 
Roome  at  Church,  finde  out  some  convenient  oppor- 
tunity either  at  Drs  or  elswhere  to  receive  it  [i.e.  the 
Communion]  in  some  House  ;  and  doe  it  quickly,  for 
you  know  not  how  soone  you  may  lye  in.  My  Budd, 
this  is  a  Greate  Worke,  therfore  chuse  a  time  when 
you  have  least  Businesse,  that  you  may  considder  it 
more  seariously.' 

Mary  had  troubles  enough  without  those  that  her 
brothers-in-law  made  for  her,  but  they  leave  her  very 
little  peace,  and  just  now  she  writes  again  :  '  Harry 
and  I  have  had  a  hotter  dispute  then  evor  we  had  ; 
concerning  your  not  answering  his  letter  ;  he  fell 
into  very  high  Langguage  and  sayd  you  had  Injured 
him  very  much  by  delaying  him  soe.  ...  I  told  him 
how  his  letters  had  miscaried,  &  that  you  could  not 
posseble  answer  .  .  .  sooner,  but  I  had  as  good  have 
spoken  to  the  post,  for  he  beleevs  nothing  of  itt.  .  .  . 
He  sayed  many  bitter  things,  &  I  was  nott  much 
behind  hand  with  him,  &  in  effect  I  told  him  I  had 
suffered  all  this  while,  but  if  itt  were  to  be  had  I 
would  now  have  where  withall  to  subsist.  Beleeve  me 
there  is  nothing  puts  me  in  soe  great  Choller  as  to  heare 
thee  taxed,  that  I  know  art  soe  good  &  Just  to  all.' 

When  Henry  received  Ralph's  answer  his  be- 
haviour was  still  worse.  His  sister-in-law  writes:  '  I 


MARY   LADY   VERNE Y   'SOLICITING'  261 

discovered  the  whole  business  by  another  body,  & 
truly  I  must  needs  tell  you  that  soe  much  unworthi- 
ness  &  soe  great  a  cheat  I  did  neavor  know  any 
creature  more  guilty  off;  the^Fstory  is  to  long  to 
relate,  butt  my  Aunt  Misterton  is  soe  sencible  of  his 
usage  of  her  that  I  beleeve  and  feare  he  must  shortly 
seeke  another  place  to  be  in.  .  .  .  This  morning  he 
came  and  shewed  me  your  letter  ;  to  which  I  sayed 
noething  but  that  I  thought  you  had  donn  nothing 
butt  what  became  a  kind  and  loveing  Brother  ;  soe 
with  that  he  fell  into  higher  Languadge  then  I  can 
express  and  sayed  he  should  have  expected  more 
kindnes  from  a  Jew  .  .  .  and  that  itt  may  be  there 
might  come  times  of  action  againe  and  then  itt  might 
be  in  his  power  to  be — truly  I  cannot  express  the 
most  unworthy  language  he  gave  of  you.' 

A  month  later  we  hear,  '  harry  ...  is  out  of 
towne  wth  his  Aunt ;  you  may  be  sure  I  will  doe  my 
best  to  keep  him  in  there,  butt  I  very  much  fear  he 
cannott  be  long  there  now.  ...  I  much  wonder 
he  doth  not  seeke  out  some  Imployment,  for  sure  he 
cannott  think  that  she  or  anybody  elce  will  allwayes 
give  him  his  diett,  espetially  when  they  know  his 
humers  .  .  .  the  Dr  keeps  good  frends  with  him,  butt 
to  my  knowledge  he  hath  a  worse  opinion  of  him 
than  of  any  of  your  Bro  :  or  sisters,  and  thinks  him 
as  falce  harted  as  tis  posseble  for  one  to  bee.'  The 
week  following,  after  detailing  some  money  trans- 
actions in  the  family,  she  writes :  '  Soe  I  find  tis  a 
cheate  from  yc  beginning  to  ye  end  of  Harry's  side  ; 


262      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

&  truly  I  think  he  studdies  noething  elce  but  to 
doe  poore  meane  things.  ...  I  know  all  his  kind- 
ness to  me  is  butt  from  the  teeth  outward.' 

Edmund's  testimony  concerning  Henry's  character 
is  to  the  same  effect.  Once  he  wrote :  '  I  am  sorry 
old  Harry  playes  such  unbecoming  and  unhandsome, 
indeed  I  may  say  such  horrid  tricks '  ;  and  another 
time  :  '  I  cannot  but  confesse  he  suffers  most  in  theire 
opinions  that  have  reason  to  know  him  best,  which 
iss  a  shrewde  evidence  against  him,  and  I  am  hartily 
greiv'd  for  it.  ...  He  hath  been  strangely  kinde  to 
me  since  my  comming  over,  and  made  me  larger 
proffers  then  I  conceiv'd  I  could  in  modesty  accept 
of  from  one  in  hiss  condition.  I  feare  the  nearenesse 
of  hiss  fortunes  force  him  into  many  inconveniencyes 
and  unbecoming  wayes,  and  I  doubt  he  iss  too  much 
inclin'd  to  them  in  hiss  own  nature,  &  too  partyall 
in  hiss  own  cause,  &  too  passionate  if  things  hitt  not 
according  to  hiss  expectation.' 

It  is  evident  that  Harry  was  no  help  to  his  poor 
sister-in-law  in  her  business,  which  progressed  most 
slowly,  &  others  with  whom  she  had  to  deal  were 
equally  bad  in  their  way.  In  one  letter  she  writes  : 
*  I  find  Frank  Drake  to  be  a  very  Jack,'  and  Ralph 
speaks  of  Drake's  being  in  a  '  frenzie,'  which  is  an  '  ill 
sign  '  for  their  business  (he  was  on  the  committee  in 
Bucks)  ;  '  for  what  kindness  can  we  expect  from  such 
a  person  as  is  unwilling  to  do  himself  a  courtesy, 
lest  he  should  do  me  a  pleasure  too.' 

By  the  1st  of  April  Mary  did  at  length  obtain  the 


MARY   LADY   VERNE Y  '  SOLICITING  '  263 

•certificate  of  the  cause  of  sequestration :  '  It  is  for 
noething  but  absence.  .  .  .  They  tell  me  they  beleeve 
itt  must  be  referred  to  the  House  before  I  can  come 
off  cleare.  ...  It  will  cost  us  a  great  deale  of  money 
by  the  tediousness  and  delayes  that  I  know  we  shall 
find  there.  Itt  cost  me  now  5/-  and  6/-  in  a  morning 
in  coach  hier  those  times  that  I  have  gon  about  itt. 
I  am  this  day  going  to  Lady  Warwick  to  desire  her 
to  speake  to  her  husband  to  be  att  the  comittee  to- 
morrow, for  that  is  the  day  that  we  intend  the  certifi- 
cate shall  be  delivered,  &  itt  may  be  posseble  that 
we  may  receave  advantage  by  haveing  some  freinds 
there  ...  for  sometimes  a  few  frends  with  God's 
blessing  will  doe  things  beyond  expectation ;  &  I 
trust  God  will  direct  us  for  the  best.  I  am  sertaine 
he  is  able  to  protect  us  against  all  their  barbarous 
usage.  .  .  .  Truly  I  know  not  whatt  I  shall  doe  for 
money,  for  'twill  be  unposeble  to  gett  enough  of  Will 
[Roades]  to  follow  this  business.  All  that  I  can 
doe  is  to  gett  enough  of  him  to  supply  my  owne 
perticuler  occasions  :  &  yett  truly  I  doe  nott  spend 
one  penny  more  then  I  must  needs.  ...  I  am  halfe 
wild  that  I  have  noe  letters  this  weeke.  My  dearest 
Roge,  farwell.  I  am  thine  owne  for  ever.  P.S.  Dr 
May  erne  Jives  hear  in  toune  ;  he  hath  but  one  daughter 
which  they  say  is  the  greatest  Mariage  in  Ingland. .  .  . 
Hear  is  a  most  desperate  booke  written  against  taking 
the  Covenant,  which  if  I  can  gett  I  will  send  you  ;  itt 
is  ordered  to  be  burnt.  It  will  be  a  little  to  bigg  to 
send  you  by  the  post.' 


264      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

Ralph  must  have  been  well  supplied  with  the 
family  news,  for  besides  his  wife's  letters  he  heard 
constantly  from  Dr.  Denton,  with  scraps  of  infor- 
mation about  relations  and  friends,  besides  endless 
details  of  business.  On  4th  March  he  writes  :  '  There 
is  now  att  Blois  Sr  Orlando  Bridgman,  his  only  sonne 
a  nephewe  of  his,  and  one  Mr.  Fanshawe,  all  under  the 
tuition  of  Mr.  Cordell.  ...  Sir  Orlando  .  .  .  intends 
within  a  twelvemonth  to  send  him  [his  son]  to  the 
Universitie  at  Sameur  or  Poictou  for  2  years,  then  to 
Paris,  and  soe  to  the  Inns  of  Court.  .  .  .  Though  I 
know  not  Sir  Orl :  his  sonne,  yet  I  pray  make  a  visitt 
to  him  for  his  Father's  sake,  and  let  me  know  howe 
he  doth,  and  if  it  ly  in  yr  way  to  doe  him  a  curtesie  I 
pray  be  kind  to  him.' 

The  good  doctor  had  been  trying  to  find  out  the 
reasons  which  were  given  for  various  cases  of  seques- 
tration. On  the  24th  March  he  writes  to  Ralph  :  '  I 
writt  you  word  in  my  last  that  I  wanted  H.  Cooke 
his  certificate  of  the  cause  of  his  delinquency  &  se- 
questration, wch  uppon  search  I  find  to  be  just 
nothinge,  for  he  was  sequestered  by  expresse  order  of 
the  House  without  any  cause  therein  expressed,  & 
never  any  was  showed,  &  yett  though  his  estate  be 
now  freed  he  is  outed  the  House.  There  is  another, 
Cooke  of  Gloucester,  who  was  yesterday  freed  in  the 
House,  if  I  am  not  misinformed,  whose  only  fault 
was  that  he  went  a  woinge  to  his  mistress  att 
Woodstocke  before  Eghill  fight.  I  heare  also  that 
Mr.  Catline  (against  whom  some  say  nothinge  is  to 


MARY   LADY   VEENEY   'SOLICITING'  265 

be  alleadged  but  absence,  some  say  more)  ...  is 
endeavoringe  to  take  off  his  sequestration.  .  .  .  Send 
me  in  the  next  as  many  arguments  as  you  can  for  the 
reason  of  your  travell.  If  my  opinion  will  goe  for 
anythinge,  I  will  say  enough,  that  it  was  requisite 
and  very  necessary  for  her  health.' 

In  April,  when  Mrs.  Eure  was  leaving  town,  Ralph 
is  very  solicitous  for  his  wife  and  fears  she  will  be 
lonely  :  he  proposes  that  she  should  send  for  little  Jack 
and  his  maid,  Fudd  :  '  he  will  entertaine  you  and  Fud 
will  stay  in  the  House,  whilst  Luce  goes  to  market. 
.  .  .  Now  I  have  told  you  my  minde,  I  leave  it 
wholly  to  you,  doe  that  which  pleaseth  you  best  ;  and 
doe  not  trouble  yourselfe  for  anythinge  ;  what  course 
soever  you  take  (for  that  little  time  that  you  will  bee 
at  London)  the  exterordinary  charge  will  not  be  con- 
siderable, therefore  please  yourselfe,  for  contentment  I 
price  above  any  money.' 

'  The  honest  Doctor,'  as  she  calls  him,  is  with  her 
at  least  twice  a  day  and  is  very  anxious  about  her,  as 
she  is  exceedingly  delicate,  but  on  the  3rd  of  June, 
1647,  Mary's  child  was  safely  born  ;  the  Dr.  writes  to 
announce  the  joyful  tidings  to  Ralph,  and  she  adds  in 
her  own  hand,  '  I  have  borne  you  a  lusty  boy.'  He 
replies,  June  20  : 

4  My  deare  Budd,  the  longer  your  letters  were  the 
more  they  were  woont  to  please  mee,  but  I  must  con- 
fesse  the  three  lines  you  writ  me  at  the  end  of  Dr.'s 
letter  dated  3rd  June  pleased  mee  above  any  that  I 
have  yett  received  from  you,  because  they  assured  me 


266      VEKXEY  FAMILY   DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

of  thy  safe  delivery  which  is  a  most  unspeakable  bless- 
ing to  us  both  ;  God  make  us  thankful  for  it.  If  the 

o  * 

boye's  name  is  Richard  I  shall  hope  he  may  bee  a 
happy  man  ;  but  if  it  bee  otherwise  I  will  not  pro- 
phecie  his  ill-fortune,  but  rather  pray  to  God  to  make 
him  an  honest  man,  and  then  he  will  be  happy 
•enough.' 

There  is  great  joy  in  the  little  house  at  Blois — but 
Miss  Peg  pouts — she  had  wanted  a  sister,  and  holds 
boys  very  cheap  !  Master  Edmund  Verney,  aged  10, 
writes  to  his  mother  :  '  Madame  ma  bonne  mere. 
Madlle  ma  soeur  est  extremement  courroucee  contre 
vous  par  ceque  vous  avez  eue  un  garqon  et  non  pas 
une  fille.  Je  prie  continuellement  pour  vous  comme 
mon  devoir  me  le  commande.  Vous  baiserez  pour 
moi  Monsieur  mon  petit  frere.  MadUe  ma  soeur  vous 
baise  humblement  la  main  quoique  vous  1'ayez  grande- 
ment  desoblige"e.'  He  asks  for  her  to  send  good  news 
which  will  oblige  me  particularly,  '  qui  demeurerai 
dternellement  comme  je  suis,  votre  plus  humble  ser- 
viteur  et  fils.' 

We  learn  from  Lord  Fermanagh's  pocket-book, 
that  Mar}^  had  her  way  about  the  baby's  name,  he 
was  christened — Ralph — on  the  17th  of  June.  Ralph 
the  elder  is  full  of  tender  anxieties  about  her  ;  '  I 
charge  you  doe  not  stirr  out  too  soone,  nor  leave  off 
too  many  cloathes  at  a  time  though  the  weather  bee 
hott.  When  you  goe  downe  about  the  Inventories  I 
beeleeve  twill  bee  your  best  way  to  hier  a  light  coach 
and  foure  horses,  and  then  if  you  stirr  very  early  you 


MARY   LADY   VERSE Y   '  SOLICITING  '  267 

may  sleepe  in  the  coach,  dine  at  Amershame,  and  lie 
at  your  owne  house,  and  the  next  day  the  coach  may 
returne  empty.  Mornings  and  evenings  are  cold, 
therfore  prepare  for  that.  If  you  goe  downe  on 
horsback  you  must  lodg  by  the  way,  and  if  you  bee 
very  weary,  and  that  may  stay  you  longer  in  the 
country  then  you  intend,  which  may  bee  a  greate 
hindrance  to  my  affaires  at  London  ;  therfore  goe  by 
coach  though  it  bee  the  Dearer  way.'  He  asks  if  Lord 
Roscommon  has  been  to  see  her.  inquires  after  all  his 
Irish  friends  of  the  old  days,  how  Lady  Barrymore 
and  'Cousin  Maudlin'  fare,  and  also  where  Mrs. 
Freake  and  her  husband  are  [they  owe  him  money 
upon  bond].  '  Write  not  too  much  till  you  are  well 
able,  least  it  weary  you,  but  I  will  not  abate  you  a 
line  heerafter,  therfore  expect  it  not.  I  thanke  you 
for  your  3  lines,  for  they  did  much  satisfie  mee,  but 
when  you  are  a  little  stronger,  I  shall  expect  to 
receive  a  letter  every  weeke  as  longe  as  two  or  three 
pamphlets  ;  but  I  hope  my  businesse  will  receive  a 
good  and  speedy  conclusion,  that  you  may  save  this 
labour,  and  returne  quickly  to  Thine  owne.' 

Poor  Mary  made  but  a  slow  recovery  and  was 
also  anxious  about  the  baby,  though  he  was  a  fine 
child  at  his  birth.  On  June  24th  she  writes  :  '  Our 
poore  child  was  soe  extreame  sick  that  every  body 
thought  itt  would  have  died,  butt  now  I  prayse  God 
tis  beyond  every  bodyes  expectation  strangely  re- 
covered. I  entend  to  send  itt  downe  the  beginning 
of  ye  next  weeke  ;  for  my  selfe  I  am  soe  very  weake 


2GS      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

that  ontell  yesterday,  since  I  was  brought  to  bed,  I 
have  neavor  been  able  to  sitt  upp  an  hower  at  a  time  ;. 
I  am  so  tormented  with  paines  in  my  head,  that  if  I 
hold  it  downe  but  halfe  a  quarter  of  an  hower,  itt  puts 
me  into  such  sweates  that  I  am  not  able  to  endure 
itt.  But  yet  I  trust  in  God  if  this  paine  in  my  head 
were  but  gonne,  I  should  recover  my  strenth  a  pace, 
for  the  Dr  makes  me  eate  good  brothe.  .  .  .  Truly  Sir 
Roger  is  very  kind,  and  makes  the  greatest  expres- 
sions to  you  that  evor  I  hard  in  my  life.' 

Political  matters  were  now  in  a  strange  state.  On 
June  2  a  troop  of  horse  commanded  by  Cornet  Joyce 
had  suddenly  appeared  at  Holmby  House,  and  in  the 
name  of  the  army  had  taken  possession  of  the  king. 
The  dissension  between  the  Parliament  and  the  army 
was  at  its  height  ;  the  latter  was  advancing  upon 
London,  having  demanded  the  expulsion  of  eleven 
members.  The  greatest  alarm  prevailed  in  the  town. 
Mary  writes  on  the  17th  of  June  that  the  '  parliment 
men  are  very  humble,  and  will  speake  to  one  now  .  .  . 
truly  in  your  wholl  life  you  neavor  saw  peaple  soe  sadd 
and  soe  dejected  as  they  are  all.  Every  body  flyes  out 
of  towne  ;  some  say  we  shall  have  a  nue  warr  and 
some  say  noe  .  .  .  that  which  afrights  me  most  is  the 
delayes  that  these  combustions  is  like  to  putt  upon  our 
busines,  and  I  confesse  that  fretts  me  soe  that  I  scarse 
injoye  a  quiett  hower.  .  .  .  [June  24th.] — I  hope  you 
will  not  any  longer  account  itt  a  misfortune  that  you 
were  turned  out  of  the  House,  for  I  assure  you  now 
tis  the  greatest  honner  that  can  be  toe  any  man,  to  be 


MABY   LADY   VERNE Y   'SOLICITING'  269 

one  of  the  ferst  chosen  members  turned  out  by  thes 
old  [  ?  new]  ones.  You  cannott  posseble  Imagion  the 
change  without  you  saw  itt.' 

When  the  baby  is  three  weeks  old  she  decides 
that  he  shall  go  to  Claydon,  and  writes  to  Roades  : 
'  Good  Will,  upon  Tuseday  next  I  intend  to  send 
my  child  to  St.  Allbanes  ;  the  nurse  is  most  ex- 
treamly  desirous  to  be  att  home,  soe  if  you  cann 
posseble  I  would  have  you  be  there  one  Tuesday 
night  and  goe  to  Tringe  on  Wednesday.  The 
nurse  sayeth  her  husband  hath  a  very  easy-going 
horse,  and  she  thinks  itt  will  be  best  for  him  to  carry 
the  child  before  him  upon  pillows,  becaus  she  cannott 
ride  between  toe  panniers  and  hold  the  child.  When 
you  come  there,  you  will  quickly  find  which  will  be 
the  best  way  to  carry  itt  ;  pray  provide  for  both 
wayes,  and  bring  a  footman  to  goe  by  itt.  If  her 
husband  doth  carry  the  child,  she  cannott  ride  behind 
him,  soe  you  must  provide  a  horse  for  her  ;  my  sister 
Mary  goes  downe  with  them,  soe  you  must  bring  up 
a  pillion  to  carry  her  downe  behind  you.  .  .  .  Pray 
doe  you  see  that  they  take  a  great  care  of  the  child, 
and  that  they  goe  very  softly,  for  the  weather  is  very 
hott ;  if  he  carries  the  child  before  him  itt  must  be 
tied  about  him  with  a  garter,  and  truly  I  think  itt  will 
be  a  very  good  way,  for  the  child  will  nott  endure  to 
be  long  out  of  ones  armes.' 

On  July  7  she  receives  a  letter  from  her  husband, 
dated  June  27,  full  of  loving  anxiety  about  her  : 
*  My  dear  Budd,  .  .  .  Now  let  me  charme  you  once 


270      VERNE Y   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

more  about  your  gadding  abroad ;  truly  if  you  stir 
out  .  .  .  halfe  a  minute  before  doctor  give  you  leave 
I  shall  not  forgive  you.'  He  begs  her  to  '  give  the 
child  no  phisick  but  such  as  mid  wives  and  old 
women,  with  the  doctor's  approbation,  doe  prescribe  ; 
for  assure  yourselfe  they  by  experience  know  better 
then  any  phisition  how  to  treate  such  infants.  I  will 
not  now  dispute  with  you  about  his  name,  but  assure 
your  selfe  you  shall  heare  of  it  at  large  heerafter.  .  . 
I  presume  you  have  noe  better  weather  at  London 
then  wee  have  heere,  which  is  nothing  but  raine,  & 
soe  cold  that  I  sometimes  call  for  a  fire/ 

He  then  tells  her,  when  she  goes  to  Claydon  to 
1  putt  upp  all  the  small  things  (I  meane  such  as  will 
take  noe  hurt  by  moathes,  rust,  or  such  like)  into 
some  Roome  by  themselves,  and  bringe  the  key  away 
with  you,  for  if  Will.  Roades  have  the  key  and  that 
any  should  aske  him  for  anything  there,  they  would 
quarrell  with  him  about  it ;  but  if  you  have  the  key, 
sure  none  will  be  soe  impudent  as  to  breake  it  open.' 

On  July  1  Mary  writes  that  she  is  '  still  as  weak 
as  tis  possible  for  any  creature  to  be/  She  tells  how 
she  has  sent  off  the  baby  by  the  coach  to  St.  Albans, 
where  Roades  is  to  meet  him  with  horses  ;  she  is 
much  troubled  that  Ralph  '  should  think  much  of  his 
name,  for  of  all  names  I  desired  thine,  and  I  trust 
the  Lord  will  make  him  a  good  man,  for  he  hath 
wonderfully  blessed  him  hetherto,  and  restored  him 
from  death  to  life  beyond  all  people's  imagination  ; 
butt  itt  will  cost  me  a  great  deale  of  money,  my 


MAEY   LADY   VERNE Y   'SOLICITING  271 

lieing  Inn,  both  in  phisick  &  attendance  for  him 
and  me,  but  my  Deare  I  assure  thee  tis  no  small 
addition  to  my  Illness  and  weakeness  thatt  I  cannot 
see  any  hopes  or  likelyhood  of  a  suddaine  dispatch 
of  my  busenes.  Truly  the  very  thoughts  of  itt  con- 
tinually aflicts  me,  for  were  there  a  possebillety  of 
doeing  any  buseness  yett,  everybody  adviseth  to  see 
how  the  armye  and  parliament  agree  ferst.' 

She  had  hoped  to  have  taken  this  time  for  going- 
down  to  Claydon,  '  but  the  honest  Dr  will  nott  by 
any  meanes  suffer  me  to  sturr  out  of  towne  untell  I 
have  taken  a  course  of  phisseck  ;  both  he  and  his 
wife  hath  been  very  earnest  with  me  to  come  and  lie 
at  his  howse,  but  I  put  itt  off  as  well  as  I  can, 
for  ...  I  ...  beleeve  .  .  .  twill  be  much  dearer 
to  me.  There  is  many  more  very  earnest  with  me  to 
be  with  them,  butt  I  had  much  rather  be  by  my- 
selfe  ;  .  .  .  but  I  entend  as  soon  as  ...  I  am  able 
...  to  goe  to  Claydon  &  soe  to  Misterton  for  a 
little  time,  &  as  I  come  back  to  bring  my  boy  Jack 
with  me,  in  hope  by  that  time  I  may  quickly  dispatch 
our  busenis  &  come  to  thee.  ...  If  I  am  able  to 
ride  a  horsback,  I  will  goe  the  same  way  that  I  sent 
my  child,  for  if  I  should  hier  a  coach  downe  itt 
would  cost  me  a  great  deale  of  money.  For  Sir  K. 
Burgoyne  &  Dr.  Denton's  coming  over  with  me 
[to  France],  I  know  they  have  a  mighty  mind  to 
itt,  butt  I  know  nott  whether  theyr  wifes  will  give 
them  leave  or  nott.  I  have  hard  them  both  very 
often  wish  them  selfes  with  you,  &  Sir  Koger  did 


572      VERNEY   FAMILY  DURING   THE    CIVIL   WAR 


protest  to  me  he  ....  would  abate  his  father  o 
a  yeare  of  what  was  tied  upon  him,  soe  he  might  have 
enough  to  live  with  you  where  you  now  are,  he  and 
Ms  children  ;  bat  I  beleeve  his  wife  would  say  nay.' 
Ralph  writes  back  in  much  distress  about  her  health 
and  the  pains  in  her  head  :  he  consulted  her  French 
doctor,  and  if  they  continued  'hee  would  have  you 
blooded  in  the  foote.  .  .  .  You  must  eate  Pottage  at 
Dinner,  &  but  light  suppers.  This  is  his  advise.' 

On  July  4  Dr.  Denton  writes  :  '  Landlady  is 
churcht  &  well,  but  lookes  ill  enough.  .  .  .  The 
differences  betweene  army  and  parliament  are  yett  a 
riddle  to  most.  ...  I  cannot  divine  what  will  be  the 
issue  ;  you  may  give  some  ghesse  by  the  bookes  I 
send  you.  .  .  .  As  far  as  I  can  looke  into  a  milstone, 
I  guesse  that  the  Independants  tooke  it  ill  that  they 
could  not  sway  the  House,  &  now  they  take  this 
course  to  purge  it  of  the  cheefe  Presbeterians,  that 
they  may  reigne  againe  ;  which  when  done  I  believe 
the  army  and  parliament  will  quickly  shake  hands  (ex- 
cept a  Cavalier  party  in  the  army  crosse  the  designe), 
and  happily  they  may  court  the  kinge  by  invitinge 
his  returne,  settlinge  his  revenew,  etc.,  and  in  such 
things  make  him  a  glorious  kinge.  But  if  eyther 
party  can  prevaile  without  makinge  use  of  the  king's 
interest,  I  beleeve  they  will  clipp  his  power.'  Each 
side  feared  the  other,  and  Sir  Roger  writes  :  '  I  dnrst 
not  write  my  thoughts,  for  every  word  is  wrested  to 
the  worst  sense.'  Ralph  in  his  solitude  looked  out 
anxiously  for  news  :  in  one  letter  he  says,  '  Send  me 


MARY  LADY  VERXEY   'SOLICITING'  275 

the  Moderate  Intelligencer  weekly,  or  any  of  the 
king's  letters  or  such  small  things,  for  wee  have  noe 
newes  at  all  here.  ...  I  heare  Mr.  May  the  poet 
hath  now  printed  a  booke  or  two  concerning  my  Lord 
of  Essex  and  the  cronicle  of  these  times  ;  certainly 
they  must  needes  be  worth  reading,  therfore  desire 
Doctor  to  buy  them  for  mee  &  pay  him  for  them. 
I  finde  hee  is  resolved  to  buy  mee  the  booke  of  ordi- 
nances, therfore  you  must  pay  him  for  that  also.' 
For  the  payment  of  his  debts  he  proposes  to  sell  some 
of  his  wife's  land  &  give  a  rent  charge  upon  Claydon, 
but  he  will  do  nothing  without  her  consent :  '  Unless 
you  conceive  this  way  best  for  yourself  &  children, 
do  not  give  wav  unto  it,  as  your  refusall  will  bee  as 

•/  '  •/ 

welcome  to  mee  as  your  consent/  Though  it  is  only 
July,  he  is  anxious  she  should  begin  buying  what 
she  will  require  and  making  preparations  for  a  sudden 
journey  that  no  time  may  be  lost  once  the  business 
is  done  :  '  ye  winter  is  coming,  nay  almost  come,  and 
in  a  little  time  ye  wayes  will  bee  unpassable  by  reason 
of  souldiers,  &  further  you  shall  not  take  another 
winter  journey  ;  therfore  get  mee  some  money  quickly 
from  Will  Roades,  &  resolve  to  come  quickly  to  thine 
owne.' 

By  the  middle  of  July  Mary  writes  that  she  is 
stronger  :  "  I  have  been  twice  abroade  and  found 
noe  great  inconveniency,  only  this  day  I  have  begun 
a  course  of  steele,  and  if  I  can  persuade  the  Dr.  to 
itt  I  will  end  itt,  for  truly  I  think  good  broths  and  a 
good  diett  will  doe  me  more  good  then  phissic,  though 

VOL.  II.  T 


VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

the  honest  Dr.  will  nott  beleeve  itt,  his  love  to  us 
both  makes  him  have  soe  much  care  of  me,  and  I  tell 
him  hee  has  toe  much   aprehention, — for  I   prayse 
God  I  find  myselfe  much  amended  wthin  this  fornight, 
and  I  doubt  nott  by  God's  helpe,  butt  I  shall  enjoy 
my  helth  again e  if  I  were  but  soe  happy  as  to  be  wth 
thee  againe,  &  tell  then  I  canott  be  hapy  nor  I  feare 
helthful,  but  there  is  noe  hopes  of  ending  our  busenes 
untell  the  great  buseness  betweene  the  arrnye  and  the 
parly ament  be  ended.'     With  regard  to  his  proposal 
about  the  debts  she  says,  '  I  cannott  say  I  dislike  the 
way  you  propound,  becaus  as  land  goes  at  present  I 
canott  propound  a  better  ;  butt  I  must  tell  you  that 
by  that  time  you  have  sold  my  land  &  that  you  sell 
.a  rent  charge  of  4001.  or  5001.  a  yeare  out  of  Claydon, 
&  that  you  have  payed  all  the  anuities  which  are  due 
yearly  to  your  sisters  and  others,  I  cannott  see  where 
you  will  have  soe  much  revenue  in  present  to  live 
•on  as  my  owne  land  was  worth,  and  I  confess  I  should 
be  unwilling  to  putt  myselfe  to  less  than  that  to  live 
upon,  without  itt  had  been  to  have  payed  thy  owne 
perticuler  depts,   &  then,  beleeve  me,   I  could  have 
suffered  anything.     For  my  owne  land  I  confess  I 
should  have  been  very  glad  to  have  kept  enoughe  of 
itt  to  have  provided  well  for  my  toe  yonger  boyes  and 
my  gerll  ;  but  if  thatt  canott  bee,  thou  mayest  as 
freely  dispose  of  that  as  of  myselfe  ;  but  in  my  opinion 
whattsoever  land  you  part  with,  you  had  much  better 
sell  outright   then  for  years.'     She  thinks  it  '  full 
•enough  '  to  let  the  creditors  have  the  land  at  twenty 


MARY   LADY   VERNE Y   'SOLICITING'  275 

years'  purchase  and  to  pay  all  the  interest  too : 
' .  .  .  .  Tis  onely  because  you  bid  me  doe  itt,  that  I 
trouble  you  with  my  silly  advise,  for  I  am  sure  thy 
owne  judgement  is  much  better,  and  what  that  leades 
thee  toe  will  please  me.' 

Before  Mary  left  town  she  was  treated  to  some 
ill-behaviour  from  brother  Tom.  Early  in  the  year 
he  was  very  civil,  and,  to  her  surprise,  presented  her 
with  his  portrait.  She  wrote  :  '  I  have  hung  itt  up 
in  my  chamber  for  the  better  grace  ;  but  I  am  chidd 
when  I  offer  to  looke  on  itt  ;  for  indeed  tis  very  like 
him.'  Later  on  matters  took  a  different  turn,  for 
Tom,  as  usual,  was  in  need  of  money,  and  had  wanted 
his  sister-in-law  to  set  her  hand  to  a  note  to  Roades 
to  pay  him  5/.  or  10/.,  which  he  said  would  be  repaid 
by  his  Aunt.  Mary  was  too  wise  to  be  thus  en= 
trapped,  and  refused  to  sign,  and  moreover  mentioned 
the  matter  to  the  Aunt  in  question,  which  put  Tom 
into  a  rage  and  drew  from  him  a  fimous  letter.  She 
describes  the  occurrence  thus  to  Ralph :  '  Now  I  must 
needs  tell  you  that  I  think  you  prophesied  of  your 
brother  Tomes  kindness  to  me,  for  you  told  me  itt 
would  not  last,  &  to  let  you  see  your  words  prove 
true  I  have  sent  you  his  letter  he  writt  to  me.  .  .  . 
Ye  other  day  your  Aunt  being  here  she  fell  a  talking 
of  him,  and  why  he  was  angry  with  me,  soe  I  told 
her  that  this  was  all  ye  cause.' 

Tom's  elegant  epistle  was  as  follows  :  '  Madam, 
though  not  with  you  in  person,  yet  I  heare  that  I 
was  the  subject  of  your  di scours  yesterday.  I  must 

T  2 


276      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   AVAR 

confess  it  is  very  long  since  I  saw  you,  and  to  long 
for  true  and  cordiall  freinds  to  be  asunder.  The 
breach  of  friendshipp  was  on  your  side  (first  broke) 
as  (upon  a  true  relation  of  the  busyness)  it  will 
appeare.  You  are  noe  changeling  towards  mee ; 
your  carryage  is  one  and  the  same.  The  french 
clymate  hath  not  a  whitt  altered  you,  but  rather  made 
you  wors  ;  ffor  formerly  you  could  keep  couiicell  and 
not  discover  the  secretts  of  a  letter  without  the  con- 
sent of  the  party  which  sent  it.  But  since  you  have 
spued  up  your  inveterate  malice  against  mee,  let  mee 
say  with  the  proverb,  divill  doe  thy  worst.  .  .  .  Had 
I  had  your  grant  I  should  (if  I  could  not  otherwise 
have  paid  it)  have  supplycated  with  my  aunt  to  have 
allowed  it  out  of  her  annuity.  I  pray  God  that 
neither  you  nor  yours  may  be  putt  to  that  shift  and 
want,  which  I  am  &  have  been  putt  to.  If  it  be  soe, 
without  doubt  God's  word  will  prove  true,  the  which 
is — what  measure  is  given  the  same  will  be  given 
againe — I  wish  the  same  may  light  on  you  and  yours. 
Hitherto  you  have  done  little  good  ;  I  know  not 
what  good  you  may  doe  if  you  live  to  Methusalem's 
yeares.  I  could  be  very  large  in  my  expressions,  but 
I  am  very  willing  to  leave  of  here  till  a  second  oppor- 
tunity proffers  itself,  which  will  not  be  long,  till  you 
shall  know,  and  all  others  that  will  bestow  a  peny  in 
the  reading  of  it,  that  you  and  your  husband  are  both 
very  unkind  to  '  (signature  cat  out). 

As  to  this  insolent  letter  Mary  writes  to  Ralph  : 
'  My  hart,  when  I  concider  whoe  itt  comes  from  and 


MARY  LADY   VERNE Y   'SOLICITING'  277 

how  basely  he  hath  used  thee,  I  doe  nott  vallue  itt, 
but  ye  Dr  makes  himselfe  very  mery  with  itt,  and 
calles  me  noething  but  "  Divell  doe  thy  worst." 
Later  she  says  that  the  Dr.  tells  her  that  ill-words 
from  such  a  fellow  are  compliments,  and  says  at 
breakfast,  '  Divell,  will  you  give  me  some  toast  ? '  to 
make  her  laugh. 

Mary's  reply  was  to  send  Tom  back  his  portrait 
4  w°h  as  I  heare  made  him  more  Blank  than  all  ye 
letters  that  I  could  have  sent  him.'  Ralph  compliments 
her  on  having  stood  firm,  and  says, '  J  see  you  are  not 
to  be  scolded  out  of  £5.  .  .  .  You  did  very  well  to  re- 
turn his  picture  ;  it  seems  he  persists  in  his  wildness 
and  rails  still.  God  forgive  him  and  turn  his  heart ; 
keep  his  letter  but  doe  not  answer  it.'  Mary  says  of 
Tom,  when  she  returns  again  to  town  some  months 
later  :  '  I  sometimes  meet  him  attyour  Sisters',  and  he 
hath  ye  confydence  to  talke  to  me,  but  I  onely  make 
him  a  curzy  ! ' 

The  struggle  for  power  between  the  army  and  the 
Parliament  resulted  in  the  discomfiture  of  the  latter, 
and  on  August  6  the  soldiers  entered  London  in 
triumph.  On  the  24th  the  king  removed  to  Hamp- 
ton Court  and  carried  on  negotiations  with  the  army 
leaders,  which  at  first  promised  to  be  successful,  but 
they  proved  as  fruitless  as  all  former  attempts  had 
been  to  come  to  an  understanding  with  Charles. 
Becoming  anxious  for  his  own  safety  he  took  refuge 
with  Colonel  Hammond,  governor  of  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
but  Hammond  lost  no  time  in  letting  the  Parliament 


278      VERXEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

know  of  his  arrival,  and  the  king  was  as  much  of  a 
prisoner  as  ever. 

In  the  beginning  of  August,  Mary  at  last  shakes 
herself  free  of  Committees  and  creditors,  and  gets  down 
to  Claydon,  where  she  finds  many  soldiers,  '  God  send 
us  well  quit  of  them.'  In  September  she  goes  to 
Aunt  Eure  at  Misterton  in  Leicestershire,  and  spends 
about  a  month  there — a  restful  visit  which  was  most 
acceptable  to  her.  (Aunt  Eure  had  lately  married 
her  third  husband,  Captain  Sherard.)  On  September 
26  she  writes  from  thence  :  '  1  entend  to  stay  ontell 
the  week  after  Michellmass  ;  indeed  my  unkle  and 
aunt  are  extreame  civell  onto  me  and  will  not  suffer 
me  to  goe  away  ontell  my  buseness  enforceth  me,  and 
truly  both  providence  and  discretion  makes  me  willing 
to  spend  thatt  little  Idle  time  I  have  in  this  place, 
for  in  a  better  woman's  company  I  am  certain  I 
cannot  spend  itt,  nor  with  one  that  loves  me  better/ 
The  company  at  Misterton  drink  Sir  Ralph's  health 
two  or  three  times  at  every  meal  ! 

Sir  Roger  had  advised  Mary  to  petition  the  army 
about  the  sequestration,  but  public  affairs  continued 
in  so  unsettled  a  state  that  for  many  weeks  it  was  use- 
less to  expect  any  private  business  to  be  attended  to. 

Mary  writes  rather  indignantly  that  Lady  War- 
wick never  came  to  see  her  in  the  summer  :  '  She 
never  soe  much  as  sent  to  enquier  after  me  .  .  . 
though  she  knew  I  lay  in  in  London  and  was  then  in 
all  the  troubles  when  she  was  glad  to  runn  out  of 
towne.'  Lady  Warwick's  conduct  was  probably  to 


MARY   LADY   VERNE Y   'SOLICITING'  279 

be  explained  by  her  husband's  critical  position,  for  in 
a  former  letter  Mary  wrote :  '  Lady  Warwick's  husband 
is  one  of  them  that  the  armye  demande  ;  I  hear  they 
are  much  in  disorder  in  that  house.' 

On  October  10  Ralph  writes  that  he  '  takes  it 
most  kindly '  that  she  has  never  failed  in  sending 
her  weekly  letter  since  she  was  in  the  country,  '  for 
except  your  selfe,  noe  earthly  thing  can  be  more 
pleasing  and  welcome  to  mee  then  your  letters.  It 
seemes  many  of  the  goods  I  left  in  severall  places  are 
likly  to  bee  lost ;  let  not  that  trouble  you  ;  I  thanke 
God  we  have  enough  for  our  present  use,  and  when 
we  want  more  I  trust  God  will  provide  them  for  us.' 
Concerning  her  proposal  to  give  the  Dr.  201.  for  her 
confinement  he  says  :  '  Tis  much  too  little  ;  less  then 
Thirty  pounds  I  shall  not  give  him,  and  were  it  not 
for  the  strange  unhappy  troubles  of  these  times,  and 
my  owne  foressing  necessity,  I  should  blush  to  give 
him  this  ;  but  you  must  excuse  it  to  him,  and  assure 
him  I  intended  it  not  as  a  reward,  for  twill  scarce  pay 
for  ye  shoee  leather  that  hee  hath  worne  out  in  my 
service,  but  desire  him  to  accept  it  till  it  pleas  God  to 
make  me  more  able.  If  hee  should  absolutely  refuse 
money  (as  I  hope  hee  will  not)  then  you  must  lay  it 
out  in  some  such  plate  as  you  thinke  fittest ;  I  thinke 
six  Trencher  plates  and  a  paire  of  little  candlesticks 
(without  sockets)  of  ten  pounds,  would  doe  well,  but 
this  I  leave  to  your  discreation.  Some  small  thing 
you  must  give  his  Wife,  and  be  sure  to  give  his 
childe  somwhat.'  He  does  not  at  all  approve  of  her 


280      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL  WAR 

dropping  her  music.  '  But  for  your  Gittarr,  if  you 
have  forgot  any  one  lesson,  nay  if  you  have  not 
gotten  many  more  then  you  had,  truly  I  shall  breake 
your  Fiddle  about  your  pate,  therfore  looke  to  your 
selfe,  and  follow  it  hard,  and  expect  noe  mercy  in  this 
point.' 

On  October  21  Mary  writes  of  her  return  to 
London  :  '  Yesterday  I  came  very  late  to  town  and 
very  weary,  for  by  reason  I  came  all  ye  way  but  sixe 
miles  on  horseback  .  .  .  and  I  rid  upon  a  cruell 
trotting  horse  to  boote  :  your  brother  Mun  rid  before 
me  &  brought  me  as  farr  as  Acton,  where  I  had  a 
coach  meet  me,  and  I  lay  one  night  by  the  way  at 
Uxbridge.  A  coach  quite  thorough  would  have  cost 
me  a  greate  deale  of  money,  and  I  hope  after  I  have 
a  little  rested  inyselfe,  twill  doe  me  noe  harme.  ...  I 
am  now  in  my  old  lodging,  but  I  shall  leave  itt  as 
soone  as  I  can  gett  another,  because  this  woman  whare 
I  now  am  will  let  all  her  house  together,  which  is  toe 
much  for  my  purse  to  pay,  &  beside  I  know  nott 
what  to  doe  wth  itt  all.  I  doupt  I  shall  find  itt  very 
sadd  being  alone  these  long  winter  nights  &  if  I 
should  diett  wth  any  body  but  yc  homiest  Dr.  I 
know  his  wife  would  take  itt  extreamely  ill,  becaus 
they  have  been  bothe  very  earnest  with  me  to  come 
to  theyr  howse,  but  truly  tis  soe  close  and  soe  ill  a 
place  that  I  feare  I  should  have  very  little  helth  in  itt, 
&  beside  noebody  can  drive  a  coach  into  ye  lane,  soe 
what  soevor  wether  comes  I  must  goe  trapesing  a 
foote  to  ye  end  of  ye  lane  &  all  else  that  comes  to 


MARY   LADY  VERNE Y   'SOLICITING'  281 

me.'  Ralph  is  much  concerned  for  her  lodging  :  if 
Aunt  Sherard  comes  to  London  '  I  would  gladly  have 
you  with  her  this  winter  ;  now  days  grow  short  and 
nights  long  you  will  bee  too  much  alone.  Were  I 
fully  assured  you  were  well  and  conveniently  settled, 
with  good  contentment,  I  should  bear  your  absence 
with  lesse  regret.'  He  hears  of  many  new  diseases  in 
London  and  some  say  they  are  infectious — '  therfore 
I  pray,  nay  I  charge  you  (what  businesse  soever  you 
have)  come  not  neare  any  that  are  sick,  but  pray  for 
all.'  '  The  Wayes,  the  Soldiers,  and  the  Sicknesse  '  are 
the  standing  obstacles  to  all  business  and  journeys. 

In  a  later  letter  Mary  describes  her  new  lodging, 
the  address  of  which  is, '  York  St.  next  to  a  chandler's 
shop,  wthin  foure  doores  of  yeGoulden  Fleece  taverne.' 
She  pays  the  same  rent  as  at  her  former  lodging.  14s. 
a  week  ;  'butt  here  I  must  find  my  owne  linnen  .  .  . 
there  is  butt  to  roomes  of  a  floore,  and  I  have  the 
dining-room  floore,  and  there  is  another  gentleman 
wch  hath  the  floore  over  my  head,  which  I  feare  will 
be  a  greate  inconvenience  to  me  .  .  .  butt  they  are 
very  good  people  in  ye  howse,  and  will  not  take  any 
lodgers  butt  those  they  know  extreamely  well.  .  .  . 
Our  friends  and  acquaintance  is  much  changed  since 
we  left  this  kingdom,  and  yet  I  thank  God  here  is 
some  as  loves  us  hartily  still,  and  that  I  dare  swear 
doth  the  honnest  Dr.,  my  Aunt  Eure,  and  Sir  R. 
Burgoyne.'  One  of  the  creditors,  Mrs.  Hyde,  has 
been  storming  at  her  for  payment.  '  She  was  in 
great  coller  thatt  I  did  nott  lett  her  have  any  money 


282      VERXEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

.  .  .  she  sayed  she  did  beleeve  you  were  sequestred 
out  of  pollecy  to  cheate  ye  creditors,  &  that  we  lived 
ourselves.  ...  I  told  her  if  she  would  undertake  to> 
take  of  ye  sequestration  I  would  undertake  .  .  .  she 
should  be  payed  every  farthing  of  her  money  and 
something  toe  boote.  ...  I  told  her  y*  was  true,  God 
be  thanked,  we  did  live,  though  twas  butt  in  a  poore 
condition,  and  that  we  had  fedd  by  ye  plate  and  stuffe 
that  we  had  sold  at  this  time,  and  that  consydering 
what  fortune  I  brought  I  was  reduced  to  a  very  low 
condition,  liveing  here  now  wth  none  butt  myselfe  and 
one  mayde.  .  .  .  After  much  discourse,  she  sayed  she 
would  be  content  to  abate  som  of  her  Interest,  but  nolt 
all ;  soe  I  told  her  if  she  and  ye  rest  knew  in  how  ill 
a  condition  your  estate  was  she  would  be  glad  they  had 
ye  princeple.' 

Many  and  long  are  the  wife's  letters  upon  these 
complicated  money  matters,  and  they  all  wind  up* 
with  the  same  loving  refrain,  repeated  in  different 
forms,  '  beleeve  me  I  shall  nott  have  one  Minute  of  an 
howers  Contentment,  untell  thou  hast  with  thee  thine 
owne  MARY  YERXEY.' 


283 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MARY    LOSES    HER    CHILDREN   AND    WINS    HER    SUIT, 

May  I  find  a  woman  wise, 
And  her  wisdom  not  disguise  ; 
Hath  she  wit  as  well  as  will, 
Double-armed  is  she  to  kill. 

May  I  find  a  woman  true, 
There  is  beauty's  fairest  hue, 
There  is  beauty,  love,  and  wit — 
Happy  He  can  compass  it. — BEAUMOXT. 

THE  year  1647  had  been  one  of  almost  unmixed 
sadness  to  the  devoted  husband  and  wife,  and  the 
month  of  October  found  them  still  divided,  with  no 
immediate  prospect  of  reunion.  While  Mary  was 
doing  all  the  difficult  political  and  financial  business 
in  England,  which  was  properly  the  man's  work, 
Ralph  had  a  heavy  task  in  the  care  of  his  children's 
health  and  education  during  their  mother's  absence, 
and  both  gave  him  no  little  anxiety.  Mary  had  been 
much  taken  up  with  the  care  of  her  new-born  baby, 
'  the  lusty  boy  '  she  was  longing  to  show  her  husband, 
but  her  heart  was  full  of  yearning  anxiety  about  little 
Mun  and  Peg  at  Blois.  She  had  written  constantly 
about  their  training  ;  she  is  satisfied  that  Sir  Ralph 
does  not  let  them  learn  dancing  any  longer,  '  for  2  or 


284      VERNE Y    FAMILY   DURING   THE    CIVIL   AVAR 

3  months  in  the  yeare  is  enough  to  learne  that.  I 
like  your  motion  very  well  of  teaching  Mun  to  sing 
and  play  on  the  gittarr,  for  tis  a  great  deale  of  pitty 
he  should  loose  his  time  now  he  is  soe  younge  and 
capable  of  breeding  ;  we  had  better  spare  itt  on  him 
heerafter  then  now.  Every  body  heer  hath  often  told 
me  they  much  wonder  that  we  make  them  nott  learne 
all  exercises,  but  I  have  allwayes  tolld  them  that  you 
have  as  great  a  desire  they  should  lerne  as  anybody 
can  have,  if  you  had  money.  Truly  I  see  noebody 
heere  that  barres  themselfes  of  anything.  Mun  must 
learn  to  play  the  gittarr  and  singe.'  She  would  like 
'  the  gerle '  to  learn  the  lute,  but  perhaps  she  is  rather 
too  young  as  yet.  '  I  am  sorry  to  heare  she  holds  her 
head  soe,  butt  I  hope  it  will  nott  now  be  very  long 
before  I  am  with  thee,  and  then  I  hope  to  break  her  of 
itt.  ...  I  trust  God  will  give  wherewithall  to  give 
them  breeding.' 

Ralph  writes  carefully  and  minutely  about  the 
clothes  that  he  and  the  children  require,  and  poor 
Mary,  ill  and  distracted  with  anxieties,  sends  him  out 
things  that  do  not  fit.  '  Now  let  me'  tell  you,'  he 
writes,  '  ye  silke  stockinges  are  good,  though  much 
to  bigg,  but  that's  noe  matter,  but  the  Thred  ones 
have  made  amends,  for  they  are  soe  little  that  they 
will  not  come  over  my  Toes  ;  my  Foote  is  bigger 
then  yours,  but  for  your  comfort  these  will  neither 
serve  me  nor  you.  As  for  Mun's  gray  stockings 
they  are  about  a  handful  too  short  and  almost  an 
inch  too  Little,  soe  I  have  layed  them  upp  for  your 


MARY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC.     285 

sonn  John,  and  you  must  buy  Mun  more.  .  .  .  Besse 
is  as  well  fitted,  for  Luce  sent  her  2  paire  of 
Shooes  that  will  come  as  soon  uppon  her  head  as 
upon  her  Heeles  ;  soe  we  laugh  at  you  Both.'  Mary, 
in  return,  sends  him  directions  about  the  house- 
keeping :  '  You  must  needs  buy  some  suger  both  fine 
and  course,  and  some  spice,  and  a  few  reasons  and 
currants  ' ;  she  does  not  think  the  children  require  any 
more  clothes, '  but  I  think  it  will  be  necessary  to  give 
faireings  to  those  that  you  gave  unto  last  yeare.' 
There  is  a  great  annual  fair  at  Blois,  and  Ralph,  as 
she  suggests,  buys  presents  for  various  neighbours, 
but  when  he  has  done  so,  he  finds  he  has  no  money 
left  for  the  sugars  fine  and  coarse,  the  raisins  and  the 
currants !  The  groceries  are  on  his  mind  when  he 
writes  to  his  wife  for  some  more  theological  works. 
'  I  pray  send  me  the  harmony  of  confession  of  faith 
of  all  Churches  and  let  me  know  the  price  of  new 
currants  and  raisins.  If  you  can,  help  me  to  Dr. 
Vane's  book  entitled  '  the  Lost  Sheep  is  Found.' 

Mary's  summer  visit  to  Claydon  had  been  a  very 
sad  one  ;  to  so  careful  a  mistress  the  state  in  which 
she  found  the  place  after  four  years'  absence  was 
indeed  heart-breaking — she  writes  to  Ralph  that  '  the 
house  is  most  lamentably  furnished,  all  the  linnen  is 
quite  worne  out,  .  .  .  the  feather  bedds  that  were 
waled  up  are  much  eaten  with  Ratts  .  .  .,'  the  fire 
irons,  '  spitts  and  other  odd  thinges  are  so  extreamly 
eaten  with  Rust  thatt  they  canot  be  evor  of  any  use 
againe,'  and  she  will  have  them  sold  by  weight ;  '  the 


286      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

cloath'  of  the  Musk-coloured  stools  is  spoyled,  and  the 
dining-room  chairs  in  Ragges.'  Ralph  is  anxious 
lest  the  '  Moathes '  should  destroy  '  the  Turkie  Worke 
cushions/  and  '  I  pray  see  that  the  Armes  [probably 
Sir  Edmund's]  doe  not  want  cleaning  and  Oylinge, 
least  they  bee  spoyled  with  Rust,  for  I  intend  them  to 
Bro  :  Mun  when  he  gets  imployment '  ;  if  they  are 
likely  to  bring  any  danger  on  the  house  they  are  to 
be  removed  from  the  place  where  they  hang,  as  he 
would  not  risk  bringing  trouble  upon  Mun  for  '  tenn 
times  theire  worth ' ;  there  are  also  '  the  greate  churche 
cushions '  and  '  the  purple  satten  ones  '  to  be  looked 
after. 

The  descendants  of  the  '  Ratts '  and  '  Moathes '  still 
flourish  and  abound,  and  rust  and  damp  are  time- 
honoured  enemies  at  Claydon,  but  the  mind  of  the 
modern  housekeeper  refuses  to  grasp  the  horrible  con- 
fusion that  must  have  been  brought  upon  a  household 
by  the  quartering  of  soldiers  upon  it  in  the  Civil 
War  days.  Poor  Mary's  letters  are  full  of  this 
trouble  ;  there  had  been  constant  visits  from  soldiers 
during  her  absence,  and  when  she  goes  from  London 
to  Claydon  the  country  is  so  full  of  them  that  she 
can  scarce  get  '  a  nagg '  and  has  to  go  round  by 
Berkhampstead.  She  writes  a  hurried  line  on  her 
arrival  on  August  4  for  the  return  coach  to  take  back, 
that  Ralph  may  not  be  without  his  letter  :  '  I  am  so 
very  weary  that  I  am  scarce  able  to  stand  upon  my 
legges,'  and  after  describing  how  difficult  she  found 
it  to  avoid  the  soldiers  on  the  roads  near  Uxbridge, 


MARY    LOSES   IIEE   CHILDREN,   ETC.  287 

•says  :  '  I  left  them  a  fighting  at  4  a'clock  this 
morning,  but  I  trust  in  god  they  are  apeased  by 
this  time.'  She  gets  a  little  respite  during  the  month 
of  August,  but  to  her  despair,  when  she  has  got 
things  into  order  and  is  just  leaving  Claydon  for 
Misterton  in  September,  a  fresh  detachment  arrives  : 
*  to-morrow  I  intend  to  goe,  and  I  shall  leave  ye  house 
soe  full  of  soldiers,  thatt  I  feare  they  will  make  us 
very  poore  as  beggers  ;  I  protest  I  know  nott  which 
way  we  shall  live  if  the  countrey  may  all  wayes  quarter 
•soldiers.  .  .  .  I  vowe  I  had  much  rather  live  with 
Bread  and  water  then  to  be  amongst  them.' 

Mary's  time  at  Claydon  was  fatiguing  and  labo- 
rious in  the  extreme  ;  her  husband,  good  as  he  is  to 
her,  and  thinking  of  everything  that  can  concern  her 
comfort,  yet  has  no  scruple  about  overwhelming  her 
with  business  ;  she  stands  about  day  after  day  making 
inventories  with  Mrs.  Alcock,  or  wading  through  the 
endless  tangle  of  their  accounts  with  Will  Roades. 

Another  time  she  says,  '  I  have  spent  the  whole 
day  searching  amongst  your  papers  for  the  survay 
you  writt  for  ;  have  looked  in  all  the  drawers  in 
youre  further  closet  .  .  .  &  I  think  I  have  opened  a 
thousand  papers.'  The  large  sheets  closely  written 
in  her  beautiful  clear  hand  attest  her  industry  as  a 
correspondent,  and  yet  Sir  Ralph  is  often  unsatisfied ; 
there  is  always  something  she  has  not  fully  explained 
to  his  most  methodical  mind,  and  he  speaks  with  some 
severity  '  of  all  those  severall  perticulers  that  I  have 
writ  to  you  off  in  my  former  letters,  &  that  you 


288      VERXEY   FAMILY   DURIXG    THE   CIVIL   WAR 

have  not  yet  given  any  answere  too.  Had  I  but  one 
letter  to  write  a  Weeke,  I  would  not  misse  answer- 
ing the  least  perticuler,  but  if  you  canot  answere  it 
presently  you  commonly  forget  it,  and  the  reason  is, 
because  you  will  not  take  a  noate  of  Remembrance.' 

She  replies  very  gently  :  '  My  deare,  thou  doest 
chide  me  for  nott  answering  thy  letters  ;  truly  I  am 
confydent  tis  by  chance  if  I  miss  ansering  of  every 
perticuler;  for  I  allwayes  lay  thy  letters  before  me 
when  I  wright  ;  butt  howevor,  when  thou  considerest 
how  much  I  wright  and  how  ill  a  scribe  I  am,  thou 
oughtest  nott  to  be  angry  with  me  for  forgetting  now 
and  then  a  little.'  'I  assure  you,'  she  says  another 
time,  '  I  neavor  fayled  one  Thurseday  of  wrighting 
to  you  nevor  since  I  came  over.' 

Everything  he  requires  must  be  done  exactly  and 
immediately  ;  at  one  time  he  asks  for  '  an  excellent 
medicine  that  Mrs.  Francis  was  wont  to  make  for  the 
Canker,  twas  black  &  boy  led  in  an  Egg  shell  ;  I 
pray  take  an  exact  receit  both  of  what  and  how  it  is 
made,  and  send  it  mee  as  soone  as  possibly  you  can.' 
Another  time  he  appeals  to  Mary's  tact  and  patience 
to  make  up  a  quarrel  between  Mr.  Aris  and  Will 
Roades.  The  relations  between  the  House  and  the 
Rectory  had  been  very  cordial,  but  in  Sir  Ralph's 
absence  there  was  much  friction  between  the  rector 
and  the  agent — '  an  inconveniency,'  he  says, '  that  I 
have  long  foreseen  '  ;  he  first  writes  about  it  to  Mary 
in  August,  1647  :  '  If  W.  R.  informe  mee  rightly  old 
Master  [the  Rector]  doth  not  use  me  well,  but  one 


MARY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC.      289 

tale  is  good  till  another  is  heard,  therefore  I  will  not 
condemne  him,  but  I  pray  use  your  best  endeavour  to 
make  them  freinds,  or  at  least  to  keepe  all  in  quiet  till 
my  returne,  that  I  may  see  where  the  fault  lies  ;  you 
must  mannage  this  matter  very  tenderly,  for  this  is  a 
captious  age.'  Mary  replies  that  his  fears  are  but  too 
well  founded  :  '  I  find  there  is  a  mortall  quarrell 
between  W.  R.  and  old  Master  ;  he  sayes  W.  R.  was 
the  cause  of  his  imprisonment,  and  W.  R.  offers  to 
bring  wittness  of  ye  contrary,  and  doth  very  much 
justefye  himselfe  against  all  that  old  Master  layes  to- 
his  charge.  I  nevor  heard  them  speake  together,  and 
before  old  Master  I  doe  avoyde  ye  speaking  of  itt, 
for,'  adds  the  poor  woman  wearily,  '  I  cannot  Indure 
to  interest  myselfe  in  quarrells.' 

Mary  has  tried  to  avoid  knowing  all  the  details, 
especially  as  she  finds  that  Mrs.  Rector  is  still  more 
implacable  than  her  husband,  and  '  I  doe  not  think  it 

posseble  to  reconcile  them I  did  shun  the 

hearing  of  the  busenesse  all  ye  while  I  was  there, 
onely  by  chance  one  day  W.  R.  came  in  to  speak 
with  me,  and  old  Master's  wife  being  there,  she  fell 
soe  bitterly  upon  him  that  itt  was  downeright  railing. 
I  cannot  tell  how  to  judge  of  the  busenesse.  I  be- 
leeve  W.  R.  may  be  in  some  faulte,  but  I  am  sure  he 
had  the  advantage  of  her  thatt  day,  for  though  she 
gave  him  very  bitter  language  yett  he  caried  himselfe 
very  handsomely  towards  her,  but  they  say  twass 
because  I  was  by  that  he  was  so  temperate.  You 
must  know  that  your  bro :  Mun  and  they  are  very 

VOL.  n.  u 


290      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL  AVAR 

great ;  and  by  that  meanes  I  know  when  they  take 
ill.'  Edmund  prefers  boarding  at  the  Rectory  when 
the  house  is  empty,  and  they  hope  that  in  time  he 
will  make  peace,  though  Mr.  Aris  is  inclined  to 
include  Sir  Ralph  in  his  indignation  against  his  agent. 
The  neighbours  call,  and  Mary  has  no  time  to 
return  their  visits  Ralph  from  Blois,  sympathising 
and  advising  in  all  troubles  great  and  small,  says  he 
would  have  her  send  Will  Roades  '  to  Sir  Richard 
Pigott,  or  any  other  you  are  obliged  unto,  to  excuse 
your  not  waiting  uppon  theire  wifes  ;  those  little 
incivilities  will  not  hurt  you.'  One  visit  she  manages 
to  pay  to  their  neighbour  at  Addington,  a  lawyer 
whom  they  are  consulting  upon  some  of  their  financial 
perplexities,  who  had  been  one  of  the  witnesses  of 
Sir  Edmund's  will  in  1639  :  'I  was  yesterday  at  Mr 
Busby's  a  horsback,  and  was  very  wery  with  thatt 
little  journey.  He  is  very  kind  to  us  about  that 
business  ;  he  hath  a  very  fine  place,  and  is  very 
proude  of  it ;  truly  I  think  he  showed  me  every  hole 
in  the  howse  ;  I  am  sure  I  was  hartily  weary  with 
walking  up  and  downe ;  he  hath  bestowed  a  very 
great  deale  of  money  upon  it.'  Mr.  Busby  is  the 
only  prosperous  person  at  this  time  that  appears  in 
the  correspondence  ;  Ralph  greatly  desires  that  he 
should  come  and  see  him,  and  Mary  writes  again 
later  :  '  I  spake  very  hartely  to  him  to  meet  you,  and 
told  him  how  ex treamly  joyed  you  would  be  to  see 

him butt  I  doe  not  find  y*  he  hath  any  great 

Maw  to   ye  journey  ;    he  is  ritch  and  fatt,   and   I 


MARY   LOSES   HER   CHILDREN,   ETC.  291 

dought  will  be  afrayde  of  hazarding  his  person.  ,.  .  . 
if  ye  times  doth  nott  suddenly  mend,  he  will  give 
over  his  profession  and  leave  this  kingdom,  butt  yet 
he  sayes  att  ye  present  he  hath  very  much  practice  ; ' 
every  one  is  going  to  law  either  to  claim  his  debts  or 
to  protect  his  property.  Mary  tries  to  arrange  that 
he  should  pay  them  a  friendly  visit  at  Blois,  and  only 
be  paid  fees  for  the  business  he  does  with  them,  and 
not  for  his  expenses  and  absence  from  England. 
When  she  is  just  starting  she  offers  to  wait  a  week  or 
two  for  him — the  greatest  compliment  she  says  she 
could  pay  to  any  man  ;  but  this  '  ritch,  fatt '  man  is 
much  less  able  to  encounter  a  winter  journey  than 
she  is,  and  it  falls  through. 

Mr.  Busby  '  cannot  poseble  goe  with  me  by  reason 
of  the  sizes  [assizes]  and  some  other  ocassions  of  his 

owne He  told  me  his  wife  and  chilldren  was 

a  great  tie  unto  him  to  keepe  him  att  home 

I  showed  him  ye  letter  of  atourney  too,  and  he  sayes 
you  had  better  send  one  thatt  is  witnessed  by  some 
English  Menn,  for  he  sayes  that  noe  Jurie  heare  will 
vallue  this  because  they  understand  nott  French.' 

Among  her  multifarious  business  at  Claydon 
Mary  had  a  wedding  to  arrange  for,  in  which  she 
took  the  kindest  interest.  Her  housekeeper,  Mrs. 
Frances  Allcock,  was  married  to  Mr.  William  Hoare 
on  August  29,  1647,  at  Middle  Claydon  Church. 
The  parish  register,  carefully  kept  by  the  Rev.  John 
Aris,  shows  the  troubled  state  of  the  times,  as  from 
October  18, 1642,  to  December  19,  1650,  no  marriage 

u  2 


292      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   AVAR 

but  this  one  is  recorded.  The  housekeeper  and  her 
husband  continued  to  live  in  the  house  ;  Mary  gave 
her  the  furniture  of  her  room,  and  Ralph  had  his 
say  about  the  most  suitable  bed  and  hangings. 

In  all  her  work  and  fatigues  Mary  has  one  source 
of  comfort  in  the  presence  of  her  little  John,  who 
never  leaves  her  from  the  first  day  of  their  reunion, 
and  trots  about  the  house  after  her  singing,  lightening 
the  dull  business  of  the  inventories  with  his  sweet 
voice  and  funny  sayings.  In  the  first  hurried  note 
she  writes  by  the  return  coach  on  the  night  of  her 
arrival,  she  says  to  Ralph  :  '  As  far  as  I  can  tell  by 
candlelight,  thy  boy  Jack  apeares  to  me  to  be  a  brave 
lusty  boy.'  By  daylight  her  anxious  inspection  of 
him  proved  less  satisfactory  ;  he  was  nearly  seven, 
and  had  suifered  in  body  and  mind  from  his  mother's 
three  years'  absence.  She  writes  to  her  husband 
a  few  days  later — August  10  : 

'  I  must  give  thee  some  acount  of  our  own  babyes 
heare.  For  Jack  his  leggs  are  most  miserable, 
crooked  as  evor  I  saw  any  child's,  and  yett  thank 
god  he  goes  very  strongly,  and  is  very  strayte  in  his 
body  as  any  child  can  bee  ;  and  is  a  very  fine  child 
all  but  his  legges,  and  truly  I  think  would  be  much 
finer  if  we  had  him  in  ordering,  for  they  lett  him  eate 
anythinge  that  he  hath  a  mind  toe,  and  he  keepes  a 
very  ill  diett ;  he  hath  an  Imperfection  in  his  speech, 
and  of  all  things  he  hates  his  booke,  truly  tis  time 
you  had  him  with  you  for  he  learnes  noething  heare. 
You  would  be  much  pleased  with  his  Company,  for 


MAEY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC.      293 

3ie  is  a  very  ready  witted  child  and  is  very  good  of 
company,  and  is  soe  fond  of  the  name  of  his  father 
and  mother  ;  he  is  allwayes  with  me  from  the  first 
hower  thatt  I  came,  and  tells  me  that  he  would  very 
fayne  goe  into  france  to  his  father  ;  he  sings  prettely.' 

4 1  long  to  see  poor  Jack,'  Ralph  replies  ;  '  truly 
the  Crookednesse  of  his  Leggs  grieves  my  very  Hart, 
aske  some  advise  about  it  at  London,  but  doe  not 
Tamper  with  him.' 

'  Jack  is  a  very  gallant  boy,'  writes  Mary  on 
September  7,  '  butt  truly  if  he  stay  there  a  little 

longer  he  will  be  utterly  spoyled he  hath  noe 

fault  in  him  beside  his  leggs,  for  though  tis  mine 
•owne  I  must  needs  say  he  is  an  extreame  witty  child.' 
To  her  great  comfort  it  is  settled  that  Jack  shall  go 
back  with  her  to  France  ;  but  there  is  so  much  sick- 
ness in  London  that  he  is  to  remain  at  Claydon  till 
;she  is  ready  to  sail. 

She  has  had  her  share  of  anxieties  about  little 
Ralph ;  he  got  through  his  adventurous  journey  to 
Claydon  without  mishap,  and  Mary  wrote  to  Roades 
about  him  from  London  :  '  Good  Will,  I  am  very 
glad  to  heare  my  Child  came  soe  well  home,  .  .  . 
I  wish  myselfe  hartely  there  toe.  ...  I  pray  speak 
to  Mrs.  Allcock  to  lett  the  nurse  have  a  Cradle  ;  one 
of  the  worst  will  sarve  her  turne  and  a  hard  pillow 
-  .  .  Your  frend  M.  Verney.' 

The  baby  is  not  with  her,  but  living  at  his  nurse's, 
and  she  constantly  sees  him.  During  the  month  of 
August  he  is  less  well  again,  and  she  writes  to  her 


294      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

husband  :  '  For  my  little  boy  Ralph  he  hath  been 
very  ill  since  I  came  which  has  been  a  great  grief 
to  me,  butt  now  I  thank  God  he  is  reasonable  well 
againe.'  She  has  to  change  his  wet-nurse,  and  the 
only  fit  woman  she  can  find  is  '  Raph  Rodes  '  wife, 
and  I  feare  they  are  but  poore  and  she  lookes  like  a 
slatterne  but  she  sayeth  if  she  takes  the  child  she  will 
have  a  mighty  care  of  itt,  and  truly  she  hath  toe  as 
fine  children  of  her  owne  as  evor  I  sawe.'  The  nurse 
is  to  have  '  4s  a  week  and  toe  loads  of  wood  ;  truly 
tis  as  little  as  we  can  offer  her,  being  she  had  nott  ye 
cristening,  for  nurses  are  much  dearer  than  ever  they 
were  .  .'  .  poor  child  I  pray  god  bless  him  and  make 
him  a  hapy  Man,  for  he  hath  had  butt  a  troublesom 
begining,  yett  I  prayse  god  he  thrives  well,  and  is  a 
lovely  baby.'  '  I  meane  to  coate  him  this  week  [he 
is  nearly  three  months  old].  I  have  had  much  adoe 
to  keep  the  nurse  quiett  so  long  without  coates.' 
Before  she  leaves  Claydon  she  is  quite  comfortable 
about  him.  '  My  little  Raphe  is  a  very  fine  boy,  and 
thrives  very  well.' 

Mary  had  returned  to  London  in  October  from 
Misterton,  leaving  Jack  and  Ralph  at  Claydon.  '  I  am 
soe  weary,'  she  writes  to  her  husband  on  the  21st, 
'  that  tis  a  payne  to  me  to  hold  ye  penn,  but  yet  I  can- 
not conclude,  ontell  I  have  chidd  thee  that  thou  dost 
nevor  give  me  an  account  how  thyselfe  and  boy  and 
gerle  have  your  helthes,  and  yett  I  have  intreated  itt 
of  you  before  now  :  tis  a  duty  I  weekly  performe  to 
thee,  and  I  assure  you  I  expect  ye  same  from  you,  for 


MARY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC.     295 

ray  deare  hart  there  is  noething  in  this  world  soe 
nearly  concernes  me.  ...  I  can  not  express  to  thee 
how  sadd  a  hart  I  have  to  think  how  long  tis  since  I 
saw  thee  and  how  long  twill  be  before  I  come  to  thee, ' 
and  again  she  complains  that  he  tells  her  everything 
except  what  she  wants  most  to  know,  'how  thy  Deare 
selfe  and  my  children  have  been.' 

The  poor  mother's  instinct  did  not  deceive  her ; 
both  children  were  very  ailing  and  little  Peg,  who  was 
never  to  learn  how  to  hold  up  her  head  in  this  world, 
was  ill  with  dysentery  and  fever.  Ralph,  knowing 
how  she  loved  her  little  daughter,  had  not  the  courage 
to  tell  her  of  it ;  he  wrote  of  her  sufferings  borne  with 
sweet  patience  to  Dr.  Denton,  but  never  mentioned 
them  in  his  letters  to  Mary ;  and  while  she  was 
writing  her  tender  inquiries  the  child  had  died. 

On  October  3  he  Wrote  to  Dr.  Denton  :  '  I  am  soe 
full  of  affliction  that  I  can  say  no  more  but  pray  for 
us  ' — and  his  next  letter  of  the  10th  is  but  a  sorrowful 
fragment  :  '  Oh  Dr.  Dr.  my  poore  Peg  is  happy  but 
I  am  your  most  afflicted  and  unfortunate  servant. 
Tell  mee  how  and  when  this  shall  bee  made  knowne 
to  her  mother.'  He  wrote  this  all  unconscious  of 
another  loss  at  Claydon ;  the  baby  had  died  sud- 
denly, and  Dr.  Denton  had  a  doubly  heavy  task  in 
breaking  the  news  to  his  beloved  niece.  He  writes 
to  Ralph  of  this  second  sorrow  :  '  Your  own  wofull 
experiences  have  prepared  you  for  any  disasters  that 
any  of  Job's  comforters  can  present  to  you,  god  hath 
taken  away  what  he  gave,  I  meane  your  youngest  son 


296      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE  CIVIL  WAR 

"by  convulsion  fitts.  My  wife  mett  me  by  the  way  to 
let  me  know  soe  much  and  that  she  had  broken  it  to 
her.  ...  I  found  her  in  her  bed  lamenting  and  very 
inquisitive  of  me  alsoe  how  her  children  did,  express- 
inge  that  you  had  sent  her  noe  worde  of  them  for  a 
month  or  longer.  I  thought  it  best  to  make  but  one 
busines  of  both  and  soe  I  lett  her  know  how  happy 
her  gerle  was.  You  may  better  imagine  then  I  can 
•expresse  how  closely  she  laies  it  to  her  heart,  but  I 
hope  time  with  God's  blessinge  will  give  her  more 
patience.  .  .  .  She  talks  very  earnestly  of  cominge 
suddenly  to  you,  which  I  doe  not  yett  much  con- 
tradict, but  I  thinke  for  the  perfecting  of  her  health 
to  perswade  her  to  stay  till  after  Christmas,  because 
then  the  approachinge  of  the  sun  will  make  it  more 
seasonable  travellinge.' 

It  was  a  cruel  kindness  to  keep  the  poor  mother 
from  knowing  the  exact  state  of  her  children's  health, 
and  her  sufferings  under  this  double  bereavement 
were  terrible.  She  ends  her  next  letter  with  a  pathetic 
postscript  :  c  Since  I  writt  this,  I  have  receaved  ye  sad 
nues  of  toe  of  our  deare  children's  death,  which  afliction 
joyned  with  being  absent  from  thee  is — without  god's 
great  marcy  to  me,  a  heavier  burthen  than  can  be 
borne  by  thine  owne  unhapy  M.' 

She  writes  on  November  4 : 

'  My  dearest  hart,  I  was  in  soe  much  afliction 
for  ye  losse  of  my  deare  children,  when  the  last 
letters  went  from  hence,  that  I  was  nott  in  a  con- 
dition to  wright  or  doe  anything  elce  and  truly  att 


MARY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC.      297 

<pressent  I  am  soe  weake  that  I  am  scarse  able  to  goe 
upp  and  downe  my  chamber  butt  my  trust  is  in  my 
•good  God  ;  for  he  gave  them  to  me  and  he  took  them 
from  me,  and  I  hope,  and  I  trust  he  will  in  his  good 
time  deliver  me  out  of  all  my  troubles  and  give  my 
mind  some  quiett  and  bring  me  to  thee  for  untell  I 
•am  with  thee  I  canott  take  any  content  in  any  thing 
in  this  world,  for  the  truth  is  I  would  nott  to  gaine 
ye  greatest  richess  in  this  world  be  soe  long  againe 
from  thee  as  I  have  allready  beene,  butt  as  soone  as  I 
.am  able  to  goe  abroade  I  will  follow  thy  buseness 
night  and  day,  and  if  please  God  I  may  succeede  in 
such  a  way  as  I  shall  be  advised  to  take,  I  shall 
-esteeme  itt  a  most  onspeakeable  blessing.' 

The  Doctor  writes  again  to  Ralph  :  '  I  told  you 
in  my  last  that  I  had  acquainted  my  Landlady  with 
the  death  of  both  her  children,  which  though  for  the 
present  did  much  afflict  and  distract  her,  soe  that 
she  spake  idly  for  two  nights  and  sometimes  did  not 
know  her  frends,  yettnow  I  thanke  God  she  is  out  of 
her  bed  againe  and  looks  much  better  then  when  she 
lefte  London.  .  .  .  She  is  discreet  and  I  hope  will 
not  in  a  time  when  she  hath  most  need  of  it  make  the 
least  use  of  it.' 

But  it  was  not  the  wife's  courage  and  cheerfulness 
that  gave  way  ;  Ralph  himself,  usually  so  collected 
and  reasonable,  seems  to  have  lost  his  head  with 
trouble,  and  to  have  worked  himself  up  to  the  belief 
that  his  death  would  be  the  best  solution  of  the  family 
troubles  and  sorrows  ;  he  writes  a  confused  letter  to 


298      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

Mary,  hinting  at  his  approaching  departure  from 
Blois  :  '  Court  Hopes  undid  my  Father  and  Country 
hopes  (for  soe  I  may  call  these  that  we  now  gape 
after)  are  like  to  undoe  me,  therefore  if  you  finde  you 
cannot  get  my  businesse  heard  and  determined.  .  .  . 
let  mee  know  it  as  soone  as  may  bee,  for  whatever 
becomes  of  mee  I  will  endeavour  to  avoyd  being  kept 
thus  in  suspense.  On  Friday  last  was  Twelvemoneth 
you  arrived  at  London  and  I  have  been  patient  in 
expectation  from  Weeke  to  Weeke  and  Moneth  to 
Moneth  and  yet  noe  good  comes.'  He  desires  herr 
(vain  command)  to  hurry  the  business,  that  he  may 
have  her  company  again,  '  which  I  desire  above  all 
earthly  things,  but  if  that  cannot  bee  and  that  for  the 
good  of  your  selfe,  and  those  few  Babes  that  are  left 
us,  wee  must  still  be  kept  asunder,  I  tell  you  true,  I 
have  not  a  Hart  to  stay  heere  without  you  .... 
it  hath  pleased  God  to  provide  for  my  poore  sweet 
girle  and  I  hope  hee  will  soe  direct  mee  in  ye  dispos- 
ing of  my  Boy  that  this  shall  not  bee  for  his  dis- 
advantage.' To  Dr.  Denton  he  is  more  explicit  in 
his  restless  misery : 

'  Dr-  I  have  often  both  seariously  and  sadly  con- 
sidered the  uncertainty  of  these  times,  and  what 
course  were  best  for  mee  to  take.  I  confesse  I  could 
never  yet  tell  what  was  fittest  to  bee  donn,  but  could 
I  possibly  have  foreseene  the  necessity  of  my  Wifes 
continuance  in  England,  and  some  other  things  that 
have  befallen  mee  heere,  I  thinke  I  should  soone  have 
resolved  to  have  spent  this  winter  in  Ittaly,  and 


MARY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC.      299 

(unless  times  mend  in  England)  the  next  in  Turkye, 
and  I  doubt  not  but  I  could  soe  order  my  little 
Family  in  this  place,  and  myselfe  (by  changing  my 
name  and  concealing  my  condition)  in  the  Jorney, 
that  the  charge  should  noe  way  exceed  what  I  am 
necessitated  to  spend  heere.  And  in  my  judgment 
this  must  needs  have  proved  very  advantageous, 
both  to  myselfe  and  Family,  for  though  I  had  Falen 
in  the  Voyage  I  doubt  not  but  my  good  God  both 
can  and  will  bring  mee  to  his  Heavenly  rest,  whether 
I  dye  in  the  midst  of  Roome,  or  in  the  deserts  of 
the  Heathens.  His  mercyes  are  not  bound  to  any 
climate,  the  same  Sun  shines  there  that  does  at 
London,  and  I  know  full  well  hee  will  afford  his 
providence  to  Pilgrims  as  well  as  Princes.  Certainly 
had  this  been  soe,  you  need  not  have  imployed  either 
money  or  Friends  to  take  off  sequestration,  my  Death 
had  conjur'd  downe  that  Devill,  and  then  my  Wife 
and  children  might  have  enjoyed  my  fortune  Freely, 
for  Widdowes  and  Orphans  are  rarely  made  Delin- 
quents. Dr  I  had  not  troubled  you  with  this  dis- 
course, had  you  not  made  a  question  about  my 
comming  Over,  which  of  all  wayes  (as  the  case  stands 
with  mee)  I  conceive  the  worst  that  can  bee  taken  by 
your  most  unfortunate  friende  and  servant.' 

When  poor  Mary  heard  of  this  extraordinary 
scheme  she  seemed  to  have  reached  the  climax  of  her 
troubles.  '  I  confess  I  did  believe  thou  hadest  hadd 
other  thoughts  of  me  then  to  think  I  could  brooke 

o 

such  a  proposition.     Noe  my  harte  you  must  nott 


300      VERXEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

whilest  I  live  have  any  such  desighn  withoute  you 
resolve  to  take  me  along  with  you,  and  then  live  in 
whatt  parte  of  the  world  you  most  fancye.  Itt  is  not 
the  being  intrusted  with  your  estate  can  give  me  the 
least  sattisfaction.  ...  If  itt  be  nott  posseble  for 
me  to  finish  your  buseness  I  will  leave  itt  to  God's 
Blessing  and  the  honest  Dr's.  care.  .  .  .  Truly  this 
very  notion  of  yours  hath  gone  soe  neare  me  that  I 
have  scarce  had  one  nights  rest  since  I  receaved  your 
letter,  I  had  enough  upon  me  before,  and  I  prayse 
my  God  that  he  hath  kept  my  harte  from  breaking 
-all  this  while.  ...  it  cannot  be  for  my  good  to  be 
heare  without  thee,  nor  for  your  advantage  or  our  toe 
dear  children's  to  have  our  smale  farnylye  devided  in 
fower  severall  places.  ...  To  tell  you  truth  I  cannott 
be  any  longer  from  you,  therefore  I  am  resell ved  to 
stand  or  fall  with  you  and  I  begg  of  thee  nott  to  lett 
this  desighn  any  more  enter  into  your  thoughts.  .  .  . 
I  am  nott  able  to  say  one  word  more  but  that  at  this 
time  there  is  nott  a  sadder  creature  in  the  world  then 
thine  owne  Deare  M.' 

Ralph  makes  no  further  allusion  to  his  wild 
scheme,  and  his  subsequent  letters  are  full,  as  before, 
of  the  practical  consideration  of  freeing  his  estate  and 
paying  his  debts. 

Another  letter  from  Ralph  to  his  wife  brings 
into  prominence  the  strong  religious  bent  of  his 
mind  :  '  Haveing  spake  thus  much  of  my  affaires,  I 
should  now  conclude,  but  I  am  soe  full  of  griefe  for 
the  Death  of  my  poore  children,  that  I  must  needes 


MARY   LOSES   HER   CHILDREN,   ETC.  301 

vent  some  part  of  it  to  thee.  What  shall  I  say  ?  for 
every  line,  every  word  and  sillable  about  this  busi- 
nesse,  encreaseth  both  thy  sorrows  and  my  owne. 
Therefore  I  shall  endeavour  to  leave  deploring1 
theire  losse,  for  they  are  most  unspeakeable  gainers 
by  this  Change ;  and  since  tis  soe,  (if  we  did 
not  love  our  selves  much  more  then  them)  wee 
should  rather  rejoyce  at  their  happinesse,  then  by 
repining  at  the  Will  of  Heaven,  pull  new  Judgments 
down  uppon  our  owne  heads.  Tis  true  they  are  taken 
from  us,  (and  thats  theire  happinesse)  ;  but  wee  shall 
goe  to  them,  (and  that  should  bee  our  comfort). 
And  is  it  not  much  the  better  both  for  us  and  them, 
that  wee  should  rather  assend  to  heaven  to  partake  of 
theire  perpetuall  blisse,  then  they  descend  to  Earth 
to  share  with  us  our  misfortunes.  But  perhapps  you 
will  say  wee  must  passe  by  the  Gates  of  Death,  and 
lodge  in  (the  common  Inn  of  all  mankinde)  the 
Grave.  Alas,  have  not  all  our  Fathers,  nay  and 
these  our  beloved  children  too,  Trod  in  the  same 
pathes,  and  shall  wee  feare  to  follow  the  stepps  of  soe 
many  Saints  that  are  gonn  before  us  ?  Had  you  but 
scene  with  what  unparraleld  patience  poore  Pegg 
bore  all  her  paines,  and  with  what  discreation  and 
affection  she  disposed  of  her  wearing  cloathes  unto- 
her  maide  that  tended  her,  and  lastly  with  what 
admirable  cheerfulnesse  and  courage  desiring  prayres 
to  bee  made  for  her,  shee  peaceably  resigned  her 
soule  into  the  hands  of  him  that  gave  it,  I  am  most 
confident  thou  wouldst  have  learned  of  this  our 


VERNEY   FAMILY    DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

innocent  Babe  to  bee  courageous  in  all  thy  conflicts, 
patient  in  all  thy  afflictions,  and  her  example  would 
have  taught  thee  to  submitt  all  things  to  the  good 
pleasure  of  God,  how  nearely  soever  they  concerne 
thy  selfe  or  mee.' 

Doll  Leeke  feels  deeply  for  her  cousins'  loss  and 
writes  to  Ralph  :  '  I  could  have  parted  with  a  lim  to 
have  saved  hir  [Peg's]  life.  God  has  given  you 
many  troubles,  but  yet  so  great  a  happiness  with 
them  in  joying  the  blising  of  such  a  wife,  that  you 
ought  to  lesen  your  greaf  to  preserve  yourself  to  be  a 
comfurt  to  hir  whos  consern  in  this  is  very  high,  for 
I  know  she  had  sett  hir  hart  much  upon  this  chilld.' 
Doll  cannot  go  to  Lady  Verney  at  present  on  account 
of  a  dangerous  illness  of  Lady  Gawdy.  '  The  doctor 
was  with  us  and  showed  me  your  lettell  paper,  which 
truly  struk  me  to  the  hart.' 

Ralph  is  not  disposed  to  receive  her  condolences 
very  graciously  ;  he  is  vexed  at  the  pertinacity  with 
which  she  has  demanded  the  money  due  to  her  :  '  it 
was  a  smale  dept,'  as  Lady  Hobart  pleaded  in  her 
sister's  excuse,  but  '  twas  all  she  had  in  ye  world.' 

He  writes  to  his  wife :  '  You  see  Dol :  L  :  now  writ 
mee  a  very  kinde  letter,  the  last  I  had  from  her  was 
neare  a  yeare  and  a  quarter  since,  and  much  of 
another  straine,  farre  from  any  kindnesse  I  assure 
you  ;  twas  about  money  Will  Roades  had  not  payed 
just  when  she  sent  for  it.  I  gave  her  no  answere  to 
that,  nor  doe  I  intend  to  answere  this  in  hast,  unlesse 
you  both  advise  mee  to  it,  and  say  in  what  way  I  had 


MARY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC.      303 

"best  doe  it,  for  she  feedes  mee  as  men  doe  Apes,  with 
a  Bobb,  and  a  Bitt,  and  soe  you  may  say  on  any 
occasion  if  you  thinke  fit.' 

On  Nov.  11  Dr.  Denton  writes  :  '  Your  wife  I 
thanke  God  is  very  well  .  .  .  she  hath  not  been 
abroad  since  I  told  her  of  her  daughter,  but  I  expect 
her  this  hour  to  come  and  eat  a  goose  :  for  all  you 
condemned  me  to  plum  pudding  and  puddle  all  yet 
I  believe  landlady  [his  pet  name  for  Mary]  will  tell 
you  that  she  hath  found  good  nappy  all  to  be  very 
comfortable  and  to  fatten  her.  As  for  your  petition  I 
putt  it  yesterday  into  a  good  hand  (Sir  G.  Lenthall), 
and  I  have  promised  him  £40  and  he  will  give  me 
an  account  of  it  very  shortly.'  This  was  a  petition 
to  be  presented  to  the  House  in  the  name  of  l  the  Lady 
Yerney,  wife  to  Sir  Ralph  Yerney,  that  the  whole 
business  of  the  sequestration  be  referred  to  a  com- 
mittee of  Lords  and  Commons,'  and  a  few  weeks 
later  Dr.  Denton  writes  an  account  of  how  it  was 
carried. 

Dec.  20. — '  Deare  Raphe,  I  told  you  in  my  last 
that  I  would  drive  on  the  naile  furiously,  and  I  have 
beene  as  good  as  my  word,  for  the  very  next  day  1 
drave  it  beyond  all  the  Pikes  of  the  house  against 
the  advice  of  most.  .  .  .  The  truth  is  there  was 
digitus  Dei,  eminently  in  it,  for  beyond  all  our  pro- 
jects, designs  and  contrivances,  God  cast  us  into  a 
gentlemans  hands  in  the  turninge  of  a  hand  that  very 
morninge,  nay  that  very  moment,  as  he  was  goinge 
into  the  House,  that  very  nobly  and  handsomely 


304       VERNE Y  FAMILY  DUEING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

carried  it  through  a  very  harde  chapter,  in  soe  much 
that  some  laughed  and  jeered  att  me,  to  thinke  how 
I  would  be  cozened,  because  that  very  moment  there 
was  high  and  mighty  expectations  of  Scotch  and 
Army  papers  ready  for  readinge,  and  by  the  opinion 
of  all  it  was  not  in  the  power  of  the  most  eminent 
leadinge  man  there,  to  have  promoted  it  singly  and 
nakedly.  But  thus  it  was.  Mr.  J.  Ash,  who  was 
by  order  to  bringe  in  reports  from.  Goldsmiths  Hall 
(our  petition  beinge  in  Frank  Drakes  hands),  was 
moved  by  him  and  two  more  of  us  in  his  passage 
through  the  Hall  that  he  would  sit  quiett  whilst 
F.  D.  moved  it  which  he  absolutely  denied,  but 
beinge  made  sensible  of  the  busines,  and  of  the  equity 
and  quick  dispatch  it  would  receave  uppon  very  easy 
intreaty,  very  much  like  a  gentleman  undertooke  the 
delivery  of  it,  soe  before  he  sate  down  in  the  midst 
of  his  business  he  gott  it  read,  and  soe  it  passed 
with  some,  but  not  much  regrett,  and  yet  the  House 
was  fuller  (about  300)  then  in  a  longe  time  before. 
.  .  .  We  have  had  some  of  our  good  frends  with 
us  att  dinner,  our  bellies  are  full  and  I  have  noe  more 
to  say.  .  .  .' 

Mary  writes  the  same  day :  'Our  petition  is 
granted  and  I  trust  as  God  hath  wonderfully  pleased 
us  in  itt,  soe  he  will  continue  his  marcye  still  and 
bless  our  endeavors  thatt  wee  may  suddenly  dis- 
patch thy  busenes  which  hath  cost  me  many  a  sadd 
and  tedious  bower.  Our  frends  caried  in  the  house 
to  every  creatures  greate  amazement,  for  twas  a 


MARY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC.      305 

mighty  full  House  and  att  the  very  same  time  they 
had  buseness  came  in  of  very  high  concernment,  Mr. 
Selden  and  Mr.  Pierpoint  did  much  discourage  us  in 
itt,  and  sayd  twas  not  posseble  to  gett  itt  don,  butt 
yett  Mr.  Pierpoint  did  you  very  good  sarvis  in  itt, 
.and  truly  Mr.  Trevor  hath  bin  hugely  much  your 
frend,  and  soe  hath  Mr.  Knightly  and  many  others 
that  I  canott  have  time  to  name.  They  toe  dine 
with  me  toe  day  and  some  others  which  ye  doctor 
sent  me  word  he  would  bring  that  wee  are  much 
obleged  toe.  I  took  up  £40  and  payed  itt  the  same 
day,  you  may  Imagion  for  what  and  truly  I  was 
neavor  better  contented  to  pay  any  money  in  my  life 
then  I  was  to  pay  that.  ...  I  beginn  to  have  a  huge 
content  within  me  to  think  how  sudenly  I  shall  be 
with  thee,  and  yet  beleeve  me  this  toe  months  I  have 
still  to  stay  heare  will  appeare  to  me  seavon  yeares. 
Everybody  tells  me  that  there  is  noe  question  but 
thou  wilt  be  cleared  att  ye  comittee  1  of  Lords  and 
Comons.  In  the  afternoone  we  goe  aboute  making  of 
nue  frends  ;  .  .  .  they  all  tell  me  we  need  nott  feare 
a  deniall  ;  but  itt  may  be  if  we  doe  not  make  frends, 
we  may  be  delayed.' 

Dec.  23. — Dr.  Denton  writes  :  '  Myne  uncle  to  my 
greate  griefe  goeth  out  of  the  towne  on  to-morrow 
and  returns  not  this  fortnight,  which  hath  a  little 
disordred  us  for  the  present.  Not  that  (as  we  hope) 
we  shall  have  neede  of  him,  but  we  would  have  beene 
.armed  against  any  arguments  or  peevishnes,  I  know 

1  See  Great  Civil  War,  vol.  iii.  p.  311.     S.  R.  Gardiner. 
VOL.  II.  X 


306      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

he  could  and  would  have  done  his  uttmost  to  have 
struck  it  dead.  Though  it  be  a  clere  case  yett  it  is 
policy  to  have  most  Lords  there.  Warwick  is  alsoe 
out  of  town.' 

Mary  writes  the  same  day  :  '  All  the  Lords  that 
T^e  cann  make  ....  are  out  of  towne,  and  tis 
nessesary  we  should  have  as  many  Lords  at  the 
hearing  of  our  busenes  as  we  can  gett.  .  .  .  You 
long  since  bid  me  advise  with  the  Dr  aboute  getting 
leave  to  travaile  ...  I  allsoe  spake  to  Mr.  Treavor, 
but  he  is  of  opinion  that  itt  is  needless  to  ask  itt,  for 
he  sayes  they  nevor  call  home  any  private  gentleman, 
and  when  your  sequestration  is  taken  off  they  canott 
sequester  you  againe  for  the  same  cause  that  they 
have  already  cleared  you,  and  beside  if  you  have 
leave  itt  must  be  of  the  House,  for  the  generall  nevor 
doth  any  such  thing  as  they  tell  me,  and  to  move 
such  a  thing  in  the  house  I  fear  would  but  rather 
putt  them  in  mind  to  call  you  home,  espetially  if 
there  be  butt  such  a  crabbed  peece  there  as  King 
Arthur,  whoe  that  day  our  buseness  was  hard  did  you 
all  ye  mischeyfe  he  could,  but  when  he  had  donn  the 
worst  he  could  he  sate  him  down  and  told  them  that 
sate  by  him  he  had  saved  all  he  could,  and  to  confes 
truth  you  were  a  good  Ingenious  gentleman  .... 
This  day  I  have  more  of  the  Parlia  :  men  dine  with 
me,  this  charge  I  am  forced  to  be  att,  butt  I  hope  I 
shall  reape  the  benefitt  ['  twas  well  donn,'  says  Sir 
Ralph,  for  '  sometimes  those  civillities  worke  much 
uppon  men]  .  .  .  Sir  II.  Burgoyne  is  come  to  dine 


MARY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC.      307 

with  me  toe,  he  laughs  at  this  long  letter,  and  desires 
to  know  whether  you  evor  read  my  letters  thorogh.' 
At  length,  on  Jan.  5,  1648,  the  case  came  before 
the  committee,  and  Mary's  long  and  difficult  task 
was  accomplished — the  sequestration  was  taken  off. 
She  writes  the  good  news  to  Ralph  on  '  January  ye 
6th  and  twelveday,'  '  thy  buseness  was  yesterday 
donn  according  to  thy  hartes  desire,  and  I  have  this 
day  onely  time  to  tell  thee  soe  .  .  .  Lady  Warwick 
hath  at  last  in  some  measure  playd  her  parte,  butt  I 
putt  her  soundly  to  itt  for  I  have  bin  4  or  5  time& 
with  her  this  week  ;  her  husband  was  there  and 
brought  others  with  him  whoos  pressence  did  much 
good  ;  I  went  Imediattly  from  the  Comittee  to  give 
her  thanks  last  night,  where  her  hus :  was  gott  home 
before  me  soe  I  gave  them  both  thanks  together.' 
Lady  Warwick  herself  writes  :  '  your  good  wife  solici- 
tede  your  busynes  with  all  the  care  that  posibly 
might  be,'  and  Sir  Roger  sends  the  following  account : 
'  The  good  providence  of  God  hath  caused  the  sunn 
once  more  to  appeare  through  the  darkest  of  clouds, 
and  hath  afforded  us  one  day  of  refreshment  midst 
the  variety  of  or  troublesome  confusions.  .  .  .  Yester- 
day the  comtee  tooke  the  business  into  consideration, 
wher  you  had  my  heart  though  not  my  tongue,  for 
that  you  well  know  hath  little  of  oratory  in  it.  It 
pleased  God,  though  not  without  some  difficulty,  to 
put  a  happy  period  to  that  most  unhappy  business. 
You  had  many  friends  there  which  I  must  needs  con- 
fess did  prove  themselves  so  indeed.  ...  I  could 

x  2 


308      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

not  have  imagined  that  so  much  justice  should  pro- 
ceed from  some  of  them,  but  for  this  one  act  they 
shall  have  my  pardon  for  all  that  is  parst.  ...  In 
generall  you  are  as  cleare  as  our  sunn  can  make 
you,  and  now  my  life  shall  be  for  the  future  as  full  of 
hopes  as  hitherto  of  feare.  .  .  .  Go  on  deare  heart  to 
add  life  to  your  intentions  and  let  them  turne  into 
resolutions  of  casting  once  more  an  eye  upon  yor  un- 
happy country.'  Ralph  could  not  as  yet  return  to 
England,  but  the  removal  of  the  sequestration  put 
him  in  a  fair  way  of  paying  his  debts  by  degrees,  and 
Mary  prepared  joyfully  to  rejoin  him  in  France.  '  I 
beginn  to  have  a  huge  content  within  me  to  think 
how  sudenly  I  shall  be  with  thee.'  He  sends  his 
cordial  thanks  to  Lady  Warwick  for  her  husband's 
good  offices  at  the  committee  ;  and  so  great  is  the 
difference  between  the  man  who  refuses  and  the  man 
who  grants  your  request,  that  the  fair-minded  and 
judicious  Ralph  forgets  that  he  accounted  it  a  par- 
ticular blessing  to  dispatch  his  business  without  the 
assistance  of  such  an  unworthy  and  ill-natured 
creature ;  Lord  Warwick  is  no  longer  '  that  Vinaigre- 
faced  fellow- ' — but  he  finds  out  that  '  He  hath  ever 
been  a  very  greate  lover  of  justice,  and  a  shelter  to 
persons  in  distressed  Frank  Drake,  who  was  '  a  very 
Jack,'  is  again  an  excellent  good  fellow  ;  the  sun  has 
come  out  from  behind  the  clouds  and  the  world  is 
not  entirely  filled — as  it  was — by  ungrateful  friends 
and  unnatural  relations.  Mary  seems  to  have  written 
a  number  of  her  gracious  and  well-expressed  letters 


MARY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC.      309 

to  thank  all  who  had  helped  her  with  the  business 
that  hath  cost  her  '  many  a  troublesom  and  many  a 
sadd  howr.'  Mr.  John  Ashe,  in  acknowledging  one 
to  him,  feels  that  he  has  '  dunne  nothing  in  the  least 
to  ballance  soe  liberall  an  expression,'  and  assures 
her  that  no  man  in  the  future  '  shalbe  more  ready 
than  himself  to  doe  all  Lawfull  favoures  and  civillitys 
to  noble  and  virtuous  Ladys.' 

She  is  winding  up  the  Claydon  business. 

'  Bro :  Mun  has  been  given  the  arms,  which  he 
was  much  pleased  with,  and  took  very  kindly '  ;  '  the 
musk  couler  stooles  have  been  putt  out  to  dressing,' 
and  a  large  mirror  has  had  its  quicksilver  renewed, 
and  the  frame  regilt. 

Ralph  had  been  planning  her  journey  ever  since 
the  previous  September.  '  I  expect  your  summons, 
the  winter  is  come  and  ye  weather  soe  cold  that 
unlesse  you  wrapp  yourselfe  extraordinary  warme,  I 
shall  welcome  you  with  a  good  Cudgell.  I  know  you 
will  have  a  care  to  keepe  Jack  from  cold,  and  when 
you  land  you  must  not  throw  off  much,  for  that 
Towne  [Calais]  standing  uppon  ye  seaside  is  subject 
to  bitter  weather,'  and  Mary  had  been  urging  him  not 
to  leave  Blois  too  soon,  as  neither  the  date  nor  the 
port  of  her  arrival  were  settled  :  '  I  know  thou  wilt 
have  a  tedious  time  of  itt  to  wayt  long  at  Diepe.' 

'  I  owe  a  great  deale  and  cannot  sturr  ontell  I 
gett  money,  and  besides  itt  may  be  I  may  wayte  att 
Rle  a  week  for  seasonable  weather  at  thatt  tim  of  the 
yeare  which  you  know  is  something  Blusterous.  .  .  / 


310      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

Before  she  can  leave  London,  there  are  200?.  of 
debts  to  be  paid,  besides  her  husband's  larger  creditors, 
and  she  has  also  to  take  a  journey  into  Suffolk  to 
settle  money  affairs  with  the  Sydenhams.  She  sends 
minute  directions  to  Roades  for  bringing  up  her  little 
boy  Jack,  to  join  her  in  London.  As  he  will  lie  but 
one  night  on  the  way,  his  maid  need  not  come  with 
him  ;  '  I  would  have  John  Andre  wes  or  some  lustie 
fellow,  come  up  a  foote  by  your  horse  to  helpe  the 
child  if  any  ocasion  should  be,  and  lett  him  be  sett 
upon  a  pillow  and  wrapped  extreamly  warme  with 
one  of  the  little  cradle  ruggs  and  a  mantle  aboute 
him/  She  also  orders  him  '  a  pare  of  russett  shoose 
pressently,  lined  with  Bais,  the  sole  within  the  shooe 
to  keepe  him  warm.' 

Ralph  had  advised  her  not  to  bring  any  clothes 
for  the  children,  '  unless  you  can  have  a  very  great 
peneworth,  for  they  are  ordinarily  cheaper  heere 
than  with  you,  and  we  must  take  the  thriftiest  way. 
Truly  Muns  masters  and  books  cost  me  above  20 
pistolls  a  yeare  now,  and  he  must  have  cloathes  too  '  ; 
but  Mary  is  resolved  that  her  husband  at  least  shall 
have  some  new  clothes,  and  says  :  '  Prethy  send  me 
word  whether  men  weare  black  cloth  still  there,  and 
how  much  will  mak  you  a  sute  and  cloke,  for  I  have 
a  great  mind  to  bring  you  some  over  because  I  know 
you  will  rather  weare  any  old  rusty  thing  then  bestow 
a  new  one  upon  yourselfe.'  Also  she  wishes  to  bring 
gloves  for  Mun  :  '  I  think  you  had  best  take  a 
glove  of  my  boy  Mun's  and  cutt  the  bigness  of  itt  in 


MARY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC.  311 

paper  .  .  .  and  I  will  bay  some  gloves  for  him  hear.' 
Ralph  was  certainly  most  careful  to  economise  in  his 
own  wardrobe.  In  a  former  letter  he  had  playfully 
teased  her  for  not  having  worn  her  new  clothes  : 
'  Sure  you  meane  to  sell  them  and  bring  mee  a 
minte  of  money,  or  else  the  vanitie  of  others  hath 
abated  your  pride,  and  theire  prodigallity  made  you 
miserable.  Certainly  wee  are  much  of  a  humour  at 
this  time  about  our  cloathes,  for  did  you  but  see  how 
I  am  patched  upp  with  old  Frippery,  you  could  not 
but  admire  it  ;  but  I  deferre  all  my  bravery  till  you 
come  (with  a  minte  of  money)  and  then  ile  make  it 
fly,  doe  not  doubt  it.'  He  desires  her  to  get  little 
presents  for  all  their  friends  at  Blois,  '  men,  women 
and  children,'  and  he  proposes  to  purchase  some  pewter 
plates,  '  they  are  very  much  better  and  cheaper  then 
they  are  with  you  :  if  you  send  me  a  pattern  I  will 
match  them  and  buy  toe  dossen  more,  for  I  remember 
mine  were  handsome  and  of  a  good  size.' 

In  contrast  to  the  Verneys'  simple  way  of  living, 
Mary  describes  how  '  Mr.  Pierepont  is  now  gon  out 
of  toune  :  he  hath  bin  hear  about  a  fortnight  or  3 
weeks  and  hath  spent  a  thousand  pound  :  he  keepes 
a  coach  and  fower  footemen  and  toe  gentlemen  beside 
grooms  and  porter  at  his  doore  and  cook  and  very 
fine  coach  and  liveries,  but  the  very  same  man  he 
was  at  Blois.  .  .  .  Mr.  Smith  is  with  him  still  .  .  . 
but  I  beleeve  will  not  travayle  with  him  as  he  is 
hard  a  wooing.'  Ralph  sends  a  message  to  Mr. 
Pierpoint  in  February  to  tell  him,  '  heere  hath  beene 


312      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

balls  in  14  nights  together  :  if  hee  please  to  visit  this 
neglected  place  .  .  .  the  joy  of  his  presence  will 
make  the  toune  forget  Lent  and  give  at  least  as  many 
more.'  Ralph  evidently  cared  little  for  the  social 
gaieties,  or  for  the  French  people  among  whom  he 
had  to  live.  When  Sir  Roger  writes  to  him,  '  I 
breathe  not  in  a  French  ayre  so  cannot  complement, 
.  .  .  civility  begins  to  be  look't  upon  as  a  monster 
now,'  he  replies,  '  should  I  live  ten  thousand  yeares 
among  these  pratlinge  people,  I  thanke  God  I  have 
not  soe  much  courtshipp,  nor  soe  little  honesty,  as  to 
learne  this  nattering  quallity.' 

'  Suis-je  en  etat  d'entendre  ces  mots, 
Ces  vains  compliments,  protocoles  des  sots, 
Ou  1'on  se  gene,  ou  le  bon  sens  expire, 
Dans  le  travail  de  parler  sans  rien  dire  ? ' 

Sir  Ralph  might  have  found  a  readier  use  of  the 
tongue  of  '  these  pratlinge  people  '  very  useful  to  him, 
as  he  and  his  wife  constantly  needed  an  interpreter. 
Mary  writes  about  their  meeting  :  *  As  for  your  onely 
oficer  Jaques  truly  I  think  you  had  best  bring  him  to 
Roane  with  you  for  being  we  have  none  with  us  thatt 
can  speake  the  Language  he  will  be  very  usefull  to  us 
and  necessary  and  itt  is  nott  much  more  time  that  Mun 
and  Bess  will  be  without  him,  for  I  suppose  we  shall 
nott  stay  very  long  at  Roane  ;  I  confess  I  could  wish 
my  deare  Boy  Mun  might  come  along  with  you  toe, 
butt  I  dare  nott  bid  you  Bring  him,  for  feare  itt  may 
prove  a  prejudice  to  him  for  his  book,  butt  truly  I 
long  to  see  him.  .  .  .'  Mary  is  delighted  with  a  letter 


MAEY  LOSES  HEE  CHILDKEX,  ETC.  313 

of  little  Mun's  to  Dr.  Denton,  which  he  has  taken 
great  pains  with  and  written  twice  over  ;  the  busy 
physician  made  time  to  reply  and  we  hear  from  Sir 
Ralph  '  that  Mun  jumped  at  his  letter — he  is  very 
proud  of  itt.'  Mr.  Chaloner,  a  friend  at  Blois,  sends 
him  an  account  of  little  Mun  after  he  has  started  to 
meet  Mary  :  '  He  not  only  thrives  in  stature  but  in 
learning  ;  .  .  .  both  his  masters  follow  him  very 
hard,  so  that  at  your  returne  I  question  not  but  you 
will  find  him  a  docter.'  His  lute  is  getting  forward 
that  Ralph  took  such  pains  in  '  rackomeding.' 

Week  after  week  goes  by  and  Mary  is  still  waiting 
for  money  and  to  wind  up  the  business  of  the 
Marshalsea,  which  drives  her  almost  distracted.  She 
writes  that  '  The  times  are  like  to  be  worse  than  evor 
they  were,  itt  was  a  strang  Blessing  to  us  thatt  we 
gott  our  buseness  donn  in  thatt  Nick  of  time  for  to 
Men's  aprehensions  we  have  gon  through  imposse- 
billeties  ;  butt  God  is  strongest  when  we  have  least 
hope.'  The  exchange  is  bad,  and  she  is  told  it  will 
be  more  to  her  husband's  advantage  to  carry  their 
money,  in  gold  about  her  person,  but  she  will  not  do 
it  without  his  advice,  so  great  is  the  danger  of  being 
robbed  ;  she  has  a  great  deal  of  miscellaneous  lug- 
gage, a  store  of  oatmeal,  the  great  looking-glas& 
about  which  Ralph  had  sent  many  careful  directions, 
and  in  addition  she  writes  to  Roades  :  '  I  would 
very  faine  have  a  hansome  Mastif  Dogg,  I  pray 
enquier  out  one,  it  must  be  a  very  large  and  quiett 
Dogg.'  She  gets  her  heavy  luggage  off  first  and 


314      VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

sends  her  husband  the  list  of  it :  '4  greate  Bundles, 
2  trunks  one  Boxe,  one  looking  glass  in  a  case  of 
Deale  Bourds,  2  flatt  Basketts  tied  together,  and  one 
hamper,  in  all  ten  parcells  .  .  .  and  I  am  soe  weary 
this  day  with  rising  betimes  and  sending  them  out  of 
the  house  that  1  know  nott  what  to  doe  with  my 
selfe.'  She  desires  him  to  bring  with  him  to  meet 
her  in  Paris  her  '  Black  silke  gowne  and  Kirtle  thatt 
is  in  my  greate  trunk  in  my  closet,  pray  doe  nott 
forge tt  it.' 

Mary  had  one  more  social  duty  to  perform.  She  ' 
was  '  the  cheyfe  guest '  in  January  '  att  the  honnest 
Dr%  att  his  wife's  eldest  daughter's  wedding,  whoe 
is  maried  to  Mr.  Gape  the  apothicary  .  .  .  there  is 
none  of  Dr's  kindred  there,  butt  myselfe  and  Frank 
Drake  [married  to  Elizabeth  Denton]  and  uncle 
John  Denton.'  Mary  had  nearly  ended  her  long 
letter  ;  she  adds  a  line  that  she  has  found  one  of 
Ralph's  awaiting  her  '  att  the  wedding  house,'  and 
that  she  will  make  '  all  the  hast  to  thee  1  can 
possebly.'  Two  of  the  guests  add  merry  postscripts 
to  Ralph  :  '  Sr  I  will  mak  so  much  of  youre  Lady  that 
I  will  not  leave  one  bitt  of  her  for  you  yet  I  am,  yr 
faithfull  sarvant  F.  D.'  About  a  fortnight  later  the 
apothecary  entertains  them  all,  not  a  little  proud  to 
receive  the  King's  physician,  and  his  other  distin- 
guished guests.  '  Hear  is  a  little  hundred  of  us,' 
writes  Mary,  '  a  house  warming  at  my  Aunt  Dr>s 
daughter's  howse — where  thou  art  wished,  but  I  wish 
myselfe  with  thee  which  wish  I  trust  in  God  I  shall 


MARY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC,     315 

suddainly  have.'  l  Yallentines  day  ye  14  feb.  164-J. 
Dr.  Denton  adds  a  postscript  :  '  We  are  all  a  house- 
warminge  and  you  must  not  expect  much.' 

Mary  had  sent  him  much  less  happy  accounts  of 
another  menage  in  the  family  :  '  Your  Coussen  James 
Fines  and  his  wife  are  parted  ;  and  they  say  the 
reason  is  because  they  canott  agree  in  disputes  of 
Conscience  ;  and  thatt  she  doth  nott  think  him  holy 
enough  ;  butt  in  my  opinion  there  is  very  little  Con- 
science in  parting  from  their  husbands.' 

Sir  Roger  is  full  of  sorrow  at  Lady  Verney's 
departure  ;  and  writes  that  he  '  might  enter  into  a 
discourse  fitt  to  be  cladd  with  the  most  sable  ex- 
pressions ;  .  .  .  the  libertie  I  have  for  the  present  of 
waiting  upon  your  second  selfe,  (though  in  all  other 
respects  I  may  truely  say  she  is  nulli  secundd) 
affordes  the  greatest  contentment  I  can  be  now 
capable  of,  but  alas  !  shee  is  to  be  gon.  .  .  .  By 
this  meanes  I  am  deprived  of  that  society  which  so 
sweetly  resembles  yourselfe,  but  heere  must  I  give 
myselfe  the  check  ;  it  is  not  mine  but  yr  happiness 
that  1  desire,  and  so  shall  it  be  a  pleasure  to  me  to 
be  miserable.'  Dieppe  is  the  best  place  for  combs  ; 
he  begs  that  Ralph  will  buy  him  a  couple,  '  one  of 
bone,  ye  other  of  torteshell,'  with  many  directions  as 
to  their  kind. 

There  had  been  some  talk  of  Mary's  taking  Mrs. 
Eure's  two  little  girls  under  her  charge  at  Blois,  but 
Ralph  feared  it  would  increase  her  sorrow  for  the 
loss  of  little  Peg.  '  It  would  renew  your  greife,  and 


316      YEENEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL  WAR 

breake  ray  hart,  for  I  confesse  noe  creature  knew 
how  much  you  loved  that  poore  childe.  I  ever  con- 
cealed what  passion  I  had  for  her,  and  rather  ap- 
peared to  neglect  her,  least  our  over  fondnesse  should 
spoyle  her,  or  make  the  others  jellous  ;  but  I  must 
needes  say,  I  loved  her  at  least  equall  too  (if  not 
above)  any  childe  I  had,  and  truly  she  deserved  it, 
for  there  was  never  a  better,  nor  more  patient  Babby 
borne.  Till  now  I  never  knew  what  a  greife  it  was 
to  part  with  a  childe.  Enough  of  this,  least  in 
Venting  my  owne,  I  encrease  thy  sorrow.' 

Mary  writes  to  him  of  the  presents  she  is  making 
to  relations  before  leaving  England  :  'if  you  have 
enough  of  my  deare  girles  haire  to  make  braceletts  I 
know  you  could  nott  send  a  more  acceptable  thing 
then  every  one  of  your  sisters  a  bracelett.' 

Everybody  thought  it  needless  to  have  a  pass, 
but  Ralph,  in  his  anxiety  for  his  wife's  safety,  desired 
her  to  get  one.  She  writes  that  at  her  request  three 
Parliament  men  wrote  to  the  Speaker  for  one,  but  he 
was  very  angry  and  refused.  At  the  last  minute  she 
has  to  delay  her  journey,  having  such  a  '  miserable 
fitt  of  the  stone '  that  she  is  scarcely  able  to  stand, 
and  Dr.  Denton  will  not  let  her  travel.  She  is  very 
sorry  that  Ralph  went  to  Dieppe  so  soon.  '  My  boy 
Jack  is  now  heare  and  very  well  I  prayse  God,  and  I 
trust  in  God  I  shall  bring  him  safe  to  thee.'  She  is 
much  troubled  that  a  coach  to  Rye  would  cost  11.  t 
she  hopes  if  she  has  '  helth  enough  to  ride  on  horse- 
back, and  I  hope  I  shall  carry  my  boy  Jack  sayfe  and 


MARY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC.     317 

Lapp  him  up  warm.  .  .  .  My  dearest  Roge  itt  joyes 

my  hart  to  think  how  soone  I  shall  be  wth  thee.  .  .  . 

I  am  for  ever  thine  owne.'     She  is  making  anxious 

inquiries  about  the  hazards  at  sea  ;  she  hears  that  in 

the  Channel  '  scarce  a  friggott  passes  without  being 

robbed.'  '  I  leave  it  to  you  to  choose  your  owne  Way,' 

says  Sir  Ralph,  '  either  by  Dover,  or  Rye,  but  if  you 

•come  by  Rye,  you  must  look  well  to  your  shipping  ; 

perhapps  some  of  the    Parliament   shipps    (for   the 

Winter  Guard)  may  lie  uppon  that  Coast,  if  it  were 

soe  tis  best  coming  in  one  of  them,  though  it  cost 

you  double,  or  if  you  could  watch  a  Time  when  some 

marchants  shipps  come  to  Diepe  or  Havre  de  Grace,  you 

might  goe  lie  at  Dover  or  the  Downes,  and  soe  come 

in  ye  Convoy ;  but  this  is  somwhat  an  uncertaine  Way.' 

'  Mun  is  very  observant  to  me  in  all  things,'  Mary 

writes,  '  but  as  for  Harry,  I  have  a  worse  opinion  of 

him  than  I  have  roomeinthis  paper  to  express.'    He 

offers  to  accompany  her  to  France,  an  offer  she  has 

not  the  least   wish  to  accept,  nor  Sir  Ralph  either. 

'  If  he  still  speake  of  a  jorney  you  know  whither, 

rather  Laugh  at  him  for  it,  then  contradict  him  in  it ; 

for  wee  are  apt  to  doe  all  that  is  forbidd  us.'     Mun 

is  far  more  considerate.     Marv  writes :    '  Your  Bro  : 

»/ 

Munn  will  carry  me  to  the  sea-syde  and  I  beleeve  a 
very  smale  invitation  would  make  him  stepp  over  to 
you,  but  I  believe  he  thinks  itt  would  be  a  charge  to 
you  which  keeps  him  from  desiring  it.'  He  eventually 
reached  Paris  before  her,  on  his  own  business. 

On  March  7  Sir  Ralph  is  in  Paris  to  make  sure 


318      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

of  meeting  his  wife  at  the  earliest  possible  moment. 
She  writes  about  the  '  very  many  shipps  cast  away  r 
by  recent  bad  weather,  but  that  the  very  thought  of 
being  with  him  'hath  already  made  me  one  inch 
fatter  than  I  was ! ' 

At  length,  on  April  10,  1648,  husband  and  wife 
were  reunited.  Dr.  Denton  writes  lamentably  to  Ralph 
of  the  loss  of  her  company  ;  he  had  intended  to  go 
with  her  to  the  coast,  but  his  child's  sudden  illness 
and  his  wife's  '  whinnelling  '  (Mary  says  her  jealousy) 
stopped  him  ;  '  she  will  as  soone  give  him  leave  to 
goe  to  Jerusalem,  but  you  know  what  tis  to  be  bound 
to  a  wife,  and  though  you  doe  not,'  she  adds  merrily, 
*  yett  he  must  obey.'  He  says,  '  I  have  with  much 
regrett  (pardon  my  passion  for  her,  for  if  she  be  soe 
worthy  of  yr  love,  yu  cannot  blame  me  if  I  thinke  her 
soe  of  mine)  returned  yr  Jewell.  ...  I  wish  you 
both  and  yours  all  happinesse  that  Heaven  and  Earth 
can  contribute,  and  that  God  would  ....  in  his 
owne  due  time  ....  bringe  you  all  safe  home  to  the 
inheritance  of  your  ifathers.  ...  I  am  glad  she  is 
gone  soe  well,  for  after  her  lyinge  in  ....  she  looked 
worse  then  old  Dr  Bethun,  just  like  death.  ...  I 
shall  want  [i.e.  miss]  her  here  to  helpe  sollicite,  to 
rost  me  apples,  and  poide  me  bread  and  sassages  and 
make  pottage,  and  above  all  her  good  company,  wch  I 
would  envy  anybody  but  yr  selfe.' 

As  a  douceur  to  Frank  Drake  he  suggests  that 
Ralph  should  '  give  him  high  and  mighty  thanks 
....  for  his  care  of  your  businesse.  Yu  might  doe 


MARY  LOSES  HER  CHILDREN,  ETC.  319> 

well  also  to  send  his  wife  some  pretty  ffrench  toyes, 
....  fitt  things  to  please  and  reconcile  Babies.  .  .  . 
Make  yourselfe  as  merry  as  you  list  with  my  gowne, 
mittens,  and  girdle  [which  Mary  used  in  making 
bread  for  him].  ...  I  will  allow  you  to  laugh  a& 
long  as  you  will  allow  me  to  eat,  and  I  am  resolved 
to  spoile  the  jest  and  eat  lustily  at  your  cost.  ...  I 
have  not  eat  one  morsell  of  good  bread  since  mischief 
went.  .  .  .  Tell  her  that  Pragmaticus  is  for  her  owne 
proper  use  and  not  for  yours,  without  a  capp  and  a 
knee  and  a  kisse  for  me.' 

After  all  her  labour,  fatigue,  and  suffering,  it  is- 
a  comfort  to  think  that  Mary  was  restored  to  her 
beloved  Ralph.  She  had  done  her  part  like  a  noble 
woman,  simply,  cheerfully,  with  untiring  energy, 
capability,  and  patience.  Everyone  seemed  to  feel 
the  charm  of  her  bright,  clever,  loving  presence. 
She  was  a  thorough  lady,  and  it  was  quite  indifferent 
to  her  whether  she  received  her  guests  in  her  old 
stuff  gown,  or  in  the  white  and  blue  satin  and 
pearls  of  her  Vandyke  picture  ;  whether  waited  upon 
by  her  one  maid  and  cooked  for  by  the  lodging-house 
keeper,  or  as  in  the  old  days  with  all  the  advantages 
of  Sir  Edmund's  Court  background  and  the  large 
establishment  at  Claydon.  She  had  succeeded  in 
everything  ;  indeed,  she  was  not  a  woman  to  fail,  but 
it  had  been  done  at  the  cost  of  a  delicate  body,  and 
a  very  sensitive  mind,  and  the  effects  of  the  strain 
were,  unhappily,  destined  to  shorten  her  life. 


320      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

'  SIR   MUN  '    IS    TKEACHEROTJSLY    SLAIN. 

Was  it  for  mere  fool's  play,  make  believe  and  mumming, 
So  we  battled  it  like  men,  not  boylike  sulked  and  whined  1 
Each  of  us  heard  clang  God's  '  Come  !  '  and  each  of  us  was  coming, 
Soldiers  all  to  forward  face,  not  sneaks  to  lag  behind  1 

How  of  the  field's  fortune  ?     That  concerned  our  Leader  ! 
Led,  we  struck  our  stroke,  not  cared  for  doings  left  and  right. 
Each  as  on  his  sole  head  failer  or  succeeder, 
Lay  the  blame  or  lit  the  praise,  no  care  for  cowards  :  fight ! 

BROWNING. 

WE  go  back  to  1644  to  take  up  the  story  of  Edmund, 
the  young  Cavalier.  In  March  '44,  Sir  Alexander 
Denton  wrote  to  Ralph  :  '  My  nephewe  Sir  Edmund 
Yerney  is  knighted,  his  Collonell  was  taken  prisoner, 
nowe  in  the  tower,  and  he  [Edmund]  escaped 
narrowly e.'  An  entry  in  an  old  note  book  tells  us 
that  on  the  24th  of  the  same  month  '  Edmund  Verney 
was  Lieut*- Govern'  of  Chester.'  From  this  time  he 
constantly  figures  as  l  Sir  Mun  '  in  the  family  corre- 
spondence. Will  Roades  mentions  with  great  respect 
that  he  spoke  '  with  him  whom  was  usually  called  Mr. 
Mun  :  who  is  now  Sir  Edmund.'  There  are  not 
many  letters  from  him  at  this  time. 


'/  ;   f)  /        /  /^ 
'  """"     je*/n*# 

•flam  a   /m /"><     <>/  {y4a/tffUm 


'SIR   HUN'   IS   TREACHEROUSLY   SLAIX          321 

In  April,  1645,  Chester  was  besieged  by  the  parlia- 
mentary forces  ;  in  May,  however,  the  king  marched 
from  Oxford  with  10,000  men,  and  raised  the  siege  ; 
it  was  one  of  his  last  advantages  and  the  very  crisis  of 
the  civil  war,  for  in  June  he  was  disastrously  defeated 
at  Naseby. 

Great  doubts  were  now  felt  as  to  the  possible  con- 
tinuance of  the  war,  and  there  is  an  interesting  letter 
from  Edmund  to  Lord  Ormonde,  nine  days  after  the 
news  reached  Chester :  '  I  way  ted  on  his  Majty 
hoping  to  have  receivd  hiss  commands,  and  soe 
immedyetely  to  have  come  for  Ireland.  My  Lord 
Byron  wass  pleas'd  to  importune  me  to  continue  with 
him  in  Chester,  and  to  move  the  King  to  write  to 
your  Exclly  that  it  wass  by  hiss  command,  and  to 
desire  you  would  send  me  over  a  regiment  of  the  first 
men  that  came  over,  and  thiss  letter  Sr  Robert  Byron 
hath  to  bring  with  him.  I  have  alwayes  found  my 
Lord  Byron  very  noble  to  me,  and  therefore  could  not 
in  gratitude  but  obey  hiss  commands,  which  are  yet 
but  temporary,  that  iss  untill  he  should  be  more 
firmly  settled  in  these  parts  and  in  a  better  condition 
than  he  now  iss.  I  much  doubt  if  your  ExcUy  should 
send  me  a  regiment,  it  might  extreamely  prejudice  my 
farr  more  earnest  desires,  which  are  wholly  bent  to 
settle  in  some  place  where  I  may  be  a  constant 
.attendant  on  your  Exclly.  You  are  the  loadstone  that 
may  draw  me  all  over  the  world,  and  I  am  in  paine 
untill  I  am  with  you  ;  and  therefore  would  not 
willingly  take  any  engagement  on  rue  that  might 

VOL.  II.  Y 


322      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

engage  my  longer  continuance  here  then  the  necessity 
of  my  Lord  Byron's  affayres  require.  The  newes  for 
the  present  iss  very  ill  on  the  king's  part  ;  there  are 
soe  many  passing  over  that  are  able  to  informe  your 
Exccy  at  large  that  I  shall  not,  etc.' 

Chester  was  again  invested  ;  it  was  of  importance 
to  Charles  to  retain  possession  of  the  place  as  a  port  of 
communication  with  Ireland.  In  September,  a  way 
was  opened  into  the  town  by  the  repulse  of  a  storm- 
ing force,  and  the  king,  coming  from  Raglan,  rode  in 
with  his  body  guard  ;  the  next  day,  however,  the  par- 
liamentary troops  under  General  Poyntz,  who  were  in 
pursuit  of  Charles,  came  up  and  defeated  him  before 
the  walls,  on  which  is  still  shown  the  seat  whence  he 
saw  the  fight.  The  loss  was  great  :  '  800  men  slain, 
1,200  taken  prisoners,  the  King  absolutely  routed  and 
fled  to  Wales,'  was  the  first  exaggerated  report ;  the 
blow  at  all  events  was  a  crushing  one. 

Chester,  however,  still  held  out  gallantly,  and  in 
November,  Henry  wrote  to  Ralph  :  '  I  can  assure  you 
Sr  Mun  is  well,  for  in  less  than  this  fortnight  Doll  had 
a  letter  from  him,  a  speakes  not  a  word  of  his  beinge 
married,  though  most  here  thinke  it.  Chester  is  cer 
tainly  very  much  straitened,  and  if  not  suddenly  re- 
lieved doubtless  will  be  lost.' 

Provisions  must  have  run  short  by  Christmas,  and 
Henry  wrote  '  that  the  garrison  was  in  great  want,' 
but  the  final  surrender  did  not  come  till  February  3, 
'46,  after  a  most  brave  defence.  '  Honourable  condi- 
tions were  granted  to  the  garrison,'  said  Henry t 


'SIR   MUX'   IS   TREACHEROUSLY   SLAIN          323 

*  except  to  the  native  Irish,'  the  fear  of  whom  did  the 
king's  cause  incalculable  harm,  which  the  remem- 
brance of  the  horrible  deeds  that  had  taken  place 
during  the  Rebellion  of  course  greatly  increased. 
Chester  was  to  have  received  the  Irish  troops,  to  gain 
whose  assistance  the  Earl  of  Glamorgan  had  been 
carrying  on  a  treaty  on  behalf  of  Charles  with  the 
rebels,  or  Confederate  Catholics  as  they  styled  them- 
selves. 

Henry  goes  on  :  '  Sir  Mun  is  well  and  marcht,  as 
I  hear,  with  the  rest.'  The  war  in  England  had  come 
practically  to  a  close,  for  the  king  had  surrendered 
himself  into  the  hands  of  the  Scotch,  and  by  the 
end  of  August  nothing  remained  to  him  but  a  few 
fortresses. 

Edmund  immediately  joined  the  Lord-Lieutenant 
Ormonde  at  Dublin,  who  was  trying  to  combine  with 
the  Confederate  Catholics.  Finding,  however,  that 
it  was  impossible  to  carry  this  out,  Ormonde  resolved 
to  give  up  Dublin,  and  the  other  garrisons  which 
still  held  out,  to  the  Parliament,  rather  than  let  Ireland 
fall  into  the  hands  of  foreign  powers.  Through  all 
this  trying  and  dangerous  year  Edmund  was  by 
Lord  Ormonde's  side. 

On  the  26th  of  February,  '47,  Dr.  Denton  wrote 
to  Ralph  :  '  Ormonde  hath  surrendered  all  to  the 
Parliament,  and  I  think  they  are  not  ill- pleased  with 
him.  Mun  is  with  him,  but  nobody  here  hath  heard 
of  him  a  great  while.  I  pray  God  guide  all  for  the 
best  of  public  and  private  interests.' 

T   2 


324      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

Lord  Ormonde  had  hardly  any  choice  before  him  ; 
the  success  of  the  extreme  party  among  the  Catholics 
would  have  been  a  '  standing  menace  to  the  develop- 
ment of  national  life  in  England  '  ;  l  the  Irish  Church 
was  cosmopolitan,  and  '  fear  of  giving  a  foothold  in 
Ireland  to  foreign  armies  acting  in  the  name  of  the 
Church,'  had  been  the  basis  of  the  policy  of  Elizabeth 
and  James.  The  re-conquest  of  Ireland  had  now 
become  inevitable. 

Lady  Yerney  was  at  this  time  in  England,  en- 
deavouring to  get  the  sequestration  removed  from 
her  husband's  estates.  She  wrote  to  him  at  Blois  : 
4 1  hear  Brother  Mun  stayes  with  my  Lo  :  Ormond, 
and  is  resollved  to  runn  the  same  course  thatt  he 
doth.  He  lately  writt  to  Doll  Leeke  and  his  sisters 
and  others  ;  certainly  he  thinks  we  are  in  some  new 
fownd  land,  which  may  be  beyond  the  reach  of 
Letters.  .  .  .  Tis  thought  he  cannott  apeare  heare  by 
reason  they  are  very  bitter  against  him  of  this  side  ; 
neyther  could  he  live  here  without  good  allowance, 
there  nott  being  a  possebilletye  of  his  haveing  any 
imployment  heare.  .  .  .  The  Doctor  is  very  much 
for  him  and  doth  beleeve  he  loves  you  more  hartely 
then  any  of  the  rest  doth,  which  I  thinke  he  may 
Basely  doe.'  Ralph  replies  :  *  If  you  happen  to  see 
my  Lord  Rosscommon,  present  my  most  humble 
servise  to  him  ;  aske  for  Munn,  but  doe  not  expresse 
to  him  or  any  other,  that  you  take  any  thing  un- 

1  Gardiner's  Great  Civil  War,  vol.  ii.  p.  548. 


'SIR  MUN'  IS   TREACHEROUSLY   SLAIN          325 

kindly  from  Munn,  but  rather  incorrage  him  in  the 
way  hee  is  in.  For  my  part  I  expect  not  to  heare 
from  him  till  hee  hath  need  of  mee  ;  many  of  my 
freinds  have  served  mee  soe  already,  therfore  I 
expect  noe  better  usage  from  him  nor  them.'  A 
reproach  that  Mun  deserved  least  of  all  men  ;  butr 
as  Sir  Ralph  said  of  himself,  his  continual  troubles 
made  all  things  seem  sad  and  black  to  him. 

In  June,  Edmund  wrote  that  he  was  about  to 
leave  Ireland  and  should  probably  go  to  France.  '  I 
could  not,'  he  says,  '  write  to  any  freinde  I  had  till 
the  wayes  were  open  by  a  treaty.'  He  speaks  with 
enthusiastic  devotion  of  his  leader,  Lord  Ormonde  : 
'  he  iss  ass  noble  a  gentleman  ass  ever  the  world 
bredd  ;  I  have  received  infinite  obligations  from  hiss 
Lopp  ;  wee  have  the  honour,  and  I  beleeve  it  iss  the 
greatest  of  our  honours,  to  be  neare  allyde  to  him  by 
hiss  mother.'1  He  hopes  that  Ralph  will  wait  upon 
him  if  ever  chance  brings  them  together.  '  I  am 
confident  you  will  readily  conclude  him  the  noblest 
and  the  gallantest  gentleman  that  ever  your  eyes 
beheld.  I  heare  your  lands  are  sequesterd,  I  am 
heartily  sorry  for  it.  I'll  deale  truely  with  you, 
before  I  hearde  thiss  I  could  not  beleeve  you  would 
have  suffered  by  them.  For  my  own  part  I  have 
ever  beene  a  declared  enemy  to  them,  and  till  the 
King  declare  them  his  freindes  I  shall  continue  soe, 


1  Sir  Edmund's  aunt  married  Sir  Nicholas  Poyntz  ;  Lady  Ormonde 
•was  daughter  of  a  later  Sir  John  Poyntz  (see  vol.  i.  p.  24). 


326      VEBXEY  FAMILY  DUEING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

whatsoever  I  suffer  by  it  ;  but  howsoever  your 
opinion  and  mine  may  differ  in  thiss,  yet  I  beseech 
you  let  uss  remember  wee  are  brethren  and  love  one 
another  heartily.' 

The  next  letter  is  from  Bristol  :  '  I  am  come  into 
England  upon  my  Lord  of  Ormond's  artickles,  and 
have  been  thinking  how  to  get  suddainely  out  of  it 
againe,  for  I  finde  my  sworde  must  be  my  best  lively  - 
hoode,  but  I  cannot  put  my  selfe  into  a  posture  of 
travailing  till  I  have  contriv'd  some  way  how  to  put 
mony  into  my  purse.  ...  I  find  thiss  kingdome  in  a 
strange  condition,  and  very  greate  probabilityes  of  a 
vvarr  to  ensue,  and  yet  neither  party  going  the  way  that 
I  can  either  in  honour  or  conscience  take  part  with, 
for  I  hold  fast  to  my  first  principles,  and  therefore  I 
would  make  all  the  hast  I  could  out  of  the  kingdome/ 
He  then  goes  on  to  ask  if  Ralph  will  buy  of  him  the 
50/.  annuity  which  he  is  under  the  belief  his  father 
left  him.  With  complete  confidence  in  his  brother's 
fairness  and  business  capacity  he  says  :  '  I  know  not 
upon  what  termes  to  offer  thiss  thing  unto  you.  I  am 
not  more  confident  of  your  understanding  the  full  of 
it,  then  I  am  of  your  integrity  in  dealing  with  me  in 
it.  ...  I  shall  leave  myselfe  wholly  to  you,  and  you 
shall  set  your  own  price.  .  .  .  God  send  a  lasting 
and  an  honble  peace  in  thiss  distracted  kingdome, 
though  the  greatest  benefitt  I  can  hope  to  reape 
by  it  iss  that  it  will  proove  soe  to  my  freindes, 
for  I  never  looke  to  see  it  again  after  thiss  time's 
departure.' 


'SIR  MUN'   IS   TREACHEROUSLY  SLAIN         327 

When  Edmund  reached  London,  he  was  distressed 
to  find  that  Ealph,  from  whom  he  had  been  some- 
what sharply  demanding  his  money  for  the  last  three 
years,  was  really  not  liable  for  any  of  his  brothers' 
and  sisters'  fortunes,  the  money  being  l  locked  up  '  as 
it  were  in  the  tax  of  the  Alnage,  and  in  other  secu- 
rities which  were  now  valueless.  He  wrote  to  Ralph 
to  '  ingeniously  confesse  my  former  mistakes  ;  truely 
brother,  I  never  knew  till  now  other  then  that  you 
were  to  be  my  paymaster  '  ;  the  money  which  he  had 
forced  out  of  Roades,  the  steward  at  Claydon,  '  was 
a  trespasse  '  which  he  would  willingly  repair,  but  he 
has  not  a  penny  in  his  purse.  He  who  had  formerly 
liked  so  much  to  go  '  handsomely  clad,'  is  now  sadly 
reduced  in  his  wardrobe,  and  his  uncle,  Dr.  Denton, 
evidently  very  fond  of  him,  writes  of  '  poore  shabby 
Mun.  .  .  .  who  hath  neyther  cloathes  to  his  back 
nor  money  to  buy  them,  and  is  neyther  able  to  live  in 
this  town,  nor  able  to  set  foot  out  of  it,  except  some- 
body relieve  him,  and  if  I  cannot  or  doe  not,  I  doe  not 
know  who  will  here  ;  by  which  I  see  that  bare  worth 
and  honour  will  give  noe  man  bread  nor  enable  him 
to  live.  .  .  .  He  is  very  hasty  to  be  gone  beyond  sea 
to  get  his  living  by  that  that  he  is  a  great  master  of 
— his  sword.' 

Ralph  had  divided  his  father's  clothes  some  time 
before  between  Edmund  and  Henry,  but  the  latter 
characteristically  had  appropriated  the  best  of  them  ; 
Mun  kindly  says,  however,  *  he  was  very  partyale  in 
his  dividing  of  the  cloathes,  but  I  did  not  take  notice 


328      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

of  it  to  him.' l  Edmund  could  hardly  contrive  even  to> 
ride  down  to  Claydon,  and  not  having  received  an 
answer  to  his  former  letter  asks  again  if  Ralph  would 
buy  the  oOL  annuity.  '  If  I  could  get  but  100/. 
down  for  it,  the  rest  to  be  paid  at  your  convenience, 
I  could  rubbe  out  one  six  or  eight  months  in  the  eye 
of  the  world/  after  which  time  he  felt  sure  of  employ- 
ment under  Lord  Ormonde  either  in  Ireland  or  in 
foreign  parts,  where  he  '  would  have  great  hopes  of  a 
hansome  way  of  subsistence  by  his  sword.'  '  I  know 
there  have  been  some  misunderstandings  between  uss, 
and  that  you  seem'd  much  concern'd  for  a  letter  I 
should  write  to  you  in  the  beginning  of  these  un- 
happy times  ;  I  wass  never  yet  soe  wary  ass  to  keepe 
a  coppy  of  any  thing  I  writt  [unlike  his  brother  !] 
neither  iss  my  memory  apt  to  prompt  me  in  what  I 
did  soe  long  agoe,  only  thiss  I  can  say  I  might  take 
occasion  upon  some  prcecedent  letter  of  my  father's  to 

1  Sir  Edmund's  clothes  left  to  '  Mun  and  Harry.' 

Black  figured  velvet  cloak  laced  with  4  black  laces. 

A  cloth  of  silver  doublet  with  a  black  and  silver  lace  unto  it. 

A  sad  coloured  cloth  cloak  lined  with  plush,  and  breeches  all 

laced  with  4  silk  and  gold  laces. 
A  satin  doublet  laced  to  it  (this  was  his  best  suit  that  he  made 

to  ride  before  the  King  to  Parliament). 
A  scarlet  coat  laced  round  and  in  every  seame  with  2  gold  and 

silver  laces  and  black  silk  and  set  thick  with  great  gold  and. 

silver  buttons  and  loops. 
One  fine  Greek  laced  band. 
2  prs.  fine  Greek  lace  cuffs. 
2  prs.  nne  Greek  lace  boot-hose. 
1  pr.  fine  Greek  purled  cuffs. 
1  pr.  fine  Greek  purled  boot-hose. 
1  fine  leg  purle  Band. 


'SIR   MUX'   IS   TREACHEROUSLY   SLAIN          329 

me  to  write  my  mind  and  opinion  freely  to  you,  and  if 
it  savoured  too  much  of  bitternesse  I  earnestly  desire 
you  would  impute  it  to  my  want  of  better  rhetoricke.' 

When  the  misunderstanding  about  Edmund's 
allowance  was  cleared  up,  he  was  once  more  on  the 
old  terms  of  affection  and  intimacy  with  Mary.  He 
spent  some  days  at  Claydon  in  the  '  unspeakable 
happiness  of  her  company,'  and  when  the  baby  boy 
died,  he  wrote  a  touching  letter  :  '  God  of  Heaven 
blesse  those  who  are  left  you  with  a  long  and  happy 
lyfe,  that  they  may  be  a  continuall  comfort  to  you  ; 
theire  relation  to  me  by  bloude,  yours  (not  only  by 
allyance,  but  by  a  nearer  bond,  a  most  deare  and 
passionate  affection)  gives  me  that  interest  in  all 
your  children  that  one  of  them  cannot  goe  out  of  the 
world  but  I  must  be  sensible  that  I  have  lost  a 
branch  of  myselfe  ;  your  griefes  and  joyes  are  to  me 
the  lyke.  I  shall  proceede  farther  and  that  most  truely, 
which  iss  in  thiss,  conditionally  you  might  continually 
enjoy  the  latter,  I  should  gladly  embrace  the  former 
ass  my  companion  for  ever,  soe  much  doe  I  vallue 
your  happinesse,  or  else  there  iss  noe  trueth,  reallity, 
or  honesty  in  your  most  faythfull  and  humble  servant,. 
Edmund  Verney.' 

In  spite  of  his  poverty  and  his  father's  debts, 
Ralph  contrives  to  help  him.  '  Your  obligations/ 
replies  Edmund,  '  have  been  infinite  to  me  ;  freinde- 
shipe  and  naturall  affection  have  seemed  to  strive  for 
mastery,  both  which  have  playde  their  parts  so 
effectually  that  I  am  bound  never  to  know  myselfe 


330      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

by  other  title  then  your  most  affectionate  brother, 
aeternally  obliged  to  love  and  serve  you.' 

Again  and  again  his  gratitude  is  most  heart- 
felt. '  I  must  either  be  worse  than  an  infidell  or 
else  these  kindnesses  must  strangely  oblige  me  to 
you.' 

His  affectionate  words  are  a  great  comfort  to 
poor  exiled  Ralph,  '  reviving  my  sadd  and  drooping 
spirits,'  then  sorely  tried  by  the  unnatural  behaviour 
of  his  other  two  brothers,  who,  he  declares,  have 
'cast  him  off.'  Edmund,  in  reply,  expresses  his 
'  hearty  sorrow  for  soe  greate  an  unhappinesse,'  and 
would  gladly  have  put  things  right  betwixt  him 
and  Henry,  had  that  been  possible.  '  For  the  elder 
[Tom]  hiss  wayes  and  courses  have  not  only  made 
him  ass  a  stranger  to  hiss  own  family,  but  allmost  to 
all  gentlemen.' 

'Edmund  spent  the  autumn  between  Clay  don — 
that  home  for  the  destitute — his  aunt  Eure's,  and 
other  visits,  with  constant  letters  to  Ralph  and  his 
wife,  which,  he  says,  '  has  been  a  happinesse  denied 
him  in  the  past  five  years.'  In  December  he  went  to 
Gloucestershire,  where,  he  says,  '  his  opportunities 
for  letters  will  be  few.'  He  writes  the  day  before 
from  Stapleford  :  '  My  obligations  in  thiss  place  have 
been  soe  high  that  I  am  obliged  to  spend  most  of 
thiss  day  in  making  my  acknowledgement  of  the 
xfivilityes  received.'  The  charming  young  soldier 
was  evidently  made  much  of — '  to  tell  you  the  trueth 
I  stay  from  church  thiss  morning  to  write,  and 


'SIR   MUN'   IS   TREACHEROUSLY   SLAIX          331 

unlesse  the  parson  be  very  long  winded  I  shall  scarce 
have  time  to  make  an  ende  of  all  my  letters.' 

Lady  Verney  wrote  in  January,  1648,  that  Ed- 
mund had  come  up  to  London,  and  in  February  the 
accounts  between  him  and  Ralph  were  examined  and 
balanced,  as  we  learn  from  a  letter  of  Uncle  John 
Dent  on' s,  who  was  legal  adviser  to  the  whole  family. 
All  that  was  due  to  Edmund,  and  more,  was  paid 
him  by  Ralph,  and  a  receipt  sealed  for  it.  '  He  presst 
me,'  says  the  uncle,  '  to  have  made  this  Accompt  more 
particular  .  .  .  which  I  accompted  a  difficult  matter 
.  .  .  therefore  accordinge  to  the  old  sayinge  I  sett 
the  Hare's  heade  agaynst  the  Goose  gibletts.' 

Lady  Verney,  who  was  soon  to  start  on  her  road 
to  join  Ralph  in  France,  hoped  that  Mun  would 
escort  her  part  of  the  way,  but  he  was  obliged  to 
depart  earlier,  as  there  was  some  mysterious  business 
going  on  for  the  king's  service,  to  which  he  only 
dared  to  allude.  On  February  24  she  wrote  :  '  My 
brother  Mun  is  this  night  a  going  away  with  the 
post.  ...  I  will  wright  to  thee  againe,  for  I  have 
soe  much  company  heare  now  to  take  their  leaves  of 
Mun  thatt  I  cannott  say  more.'  '  The  times  are  so 
uncertaine,  and  every  one  is  in  such  great  expecta- 
tions, that  noe  man  as  yett  knows  how  to  dispose  of 
himselfe  ;  he  hath  much  business  to  doe  before  he 
goes.' 

They  met  at  Paris  soon  after,  Edmund  turning 
up  at  St.  Germain,  where  the  Marquis  of  Ormonde 
had  joined  the  queen  and  Prince  of  Wales,  and 


332      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

efforts  were  being  redoubled  in  the  king's  favour  ; 
the  prince  was  to  put  himself  at  the  head  of  that 
part  of  the  fleet  which  was  loyal,  and  Ormonde  had 
been  invited  to  return  to  Ireland  by  the  Confederate 
Catholics  ;  Edmund  was  to  accompany  him. 

While  the  expeditions  were  preparing  he  re- 
mained in  Paris,  and  a  great  deal  of  painful  private 
business  fell  to  his  share.  Tom  had  got  into  one  of 
the  worst  of  his  scrapes,  signing  a  bill  of  exchange 
belonging  to  Sir  Thomas  Elmes,  who  had  lately 
married  his  sister  Margaret  ;  and  Doctor  Dentoii 
wrote  word  that  '  the  fellow  is  in  danger  of  hanging 
in  Paris  and  of  the  pillory  in  London.'  He  would 
not,  however,  stir  from  France  '  without  being  bought 
off  by  Ralph,  who  employed  a  friendly  Doctor  Kirton 
to  treat  with  him,  while  Edmund  had  to  use  all  his 
eloquence  to  persuade  the  scapegrace  to  go  home. 
'  I  am  hugely  affrayd  he  will  linger  and  bee  caught 
by  justice,'  he  wrote  to  Ralph,  after  the  latter  had 
returned  to  his  children  at  Blois. 

Sir  Thomas  Elmes  had  arrived  in  Paris,  having 
left  his  young  wife  behind  him,  whom  he  treated 
exceedingly  ill,  and  Doctor  Denton,  who  had  no 
scruple  in  alarming  his  friends,  observes,  '  I  heere 
Tom  Elmes  is  in  Paris,  wch  I  am  much  troubled  at, 
for  I  doubt  Mun  will  have  him  by  the  eares  (and 
truly  if  he  would  crop  them  and  slit  his  nose  I 
should  not  be  overmuch  troubled),  and  I  doubt  be 
the  death  of  him  if  he  give  him  noe  better  satis- 
faction concerning  Pegge,  and  I  should  be  very 


'SIR   MUN'   IS   TREACHEROUSLY  SLAIN          333 

loathe  that  he  should  have  his  hands  in  blood,  and 
so  I  have  sent  him  word.'  Edmund,  however,  was 
a  better  diplomatist  than  his  uncle.  It  was  a  difficult 
negotiation,  and  he  was  appealed  to  by  both  sides. 
Margaret  had  a  high  temper,  and  seems  to  have 
returned  her  husband's  ill  words  in  the  same  coin, 
1  but  Mun  so  carried  matters  '  -with  his  quiet  firmness 
and  gentle  determination,  that  he  secured  some  sort 
of  consideration  for  his  sister  from  his  very  un- 
pleasant brother-in-law,  and  sent  him  back  to 
England  to  meet  his  wife  in  tolerable  humour.  '  I 
ain  now  charming  Pegge  all  I  can  concerning  her 
behaviour  to  her  husband,'  he  writes.  '  Sir  Edmund 
managed  that  business  gallantly  and  handsomely,' 
remarked  old  Doctor  Kirton,  admiringly. 

One  of  Henrietta  Maria's  maids  of  honour  was 
Mistress  Mary,  sister  of  Sir  Thomas  Gardiner,  who 
had  married  Ralph's  sister.  She  had  evidently  a 
tenderness  for  the  gallant  young  soldier,  and  gives  him 
messages  to  write  to  Lady  Verney,  such  as  '  Mistress 
Gardiner  much  laments  her  misfortune  in  not  kissinf 

o 

your  hands  ;  she  sends  her  service  to  you  and  my 
brother,  would'  have  written,  butt  that  it  iss  Com- 
munion day  and  she  receives.'  Mary  Gardiner  herself 
\vrites  smart  little  ill- spelt  notes,  tied  up  with  two  bits 
of  floss  silk,  each  carefully  sealed.  In  one  she  says, '  I 
must  bege  so  much  of  the  justis  of  your  Natoure  to 
believe  it  was  a  very  gret  misfortune  that  I  did  not 
se  you — I  did  in  dever  it  as  much  as  was  posabell  ; 
but  the  Princ  his  going  a  way,  left  us  no  menes  of 


334      VEKNEY   FAMILY  DUEIXG   THE    CIVIL   WAR 

storing  [stirring]  any  ware,  for  he  did  not  leve  but 
only  the  Quenes  cohes  [coaches].' 

The  merciless  conduct  of  Parliament  to  Sir  Ralph 
had  made  no  difference  in  his  opinions  ;  neither  he 
nor  his  wife  '  font  leur  cour '  to  Henrietta  Maria  on 
any  of  their  visits  to  Paris,  so  that  '  Mistress  Mary  ' 
may  have  had  real  difficulty  in  bringing  the  queen's 
1  coch  '  to  the  Verney's  door  ;  while  the  Gardiners 
had  behaved  so  unkindly  to  Ralph's  sister  when  she 
was  left  a  widow,  that  Ralph  may  not  have  had  any 
great  desire  for  the  company  of  the  maid  of  honour. 

The  negotiations  in  favour  of  the  king  lingered 
long,  and  in  July  Edmund,  still  at  '  Snt  Jermynes/ 
writes  to  Lady  Verney  at  Blois  of  his  trouble  and 
sadness  since  they  parted  :  '  I  have  wysely,  though 
not  pollitickely,  placed  all  my  happinesse  in  attending 
you — wisely  in  reguarde  it  would  give  me  the  truest 
and  most  vallued  content,  but  impollitickly  in  re- 
guarde it  iss  soe  dissonant  to  my  fortunes  and  my 
wandring  profession  that  I  am  not  allowed  soe  much 
ass  hopes  of  enjoying  it.  My  joyes  are  momentary 
and  come  ass  it  were  to  swell  my  afflictions,  for  Suck- 
ling tells  uss  truely,  pry vation  iss  a  missery  ass  much 
above  bare  wretchednesse  ass  that  is  short  of  happi- 
nesse. I  have  experimentally  founde  it  ever  since 
you  left  Paris,  and  yet  I  find  a  strange  pleasure  in 
thiss  discontentednesse,  because  it  iss  soe  evident  an 
argument  of  the  vallue  I  have  for  you.  ...  I  shall 
never  esteem e  any  person  in  the  worlde  above  you.  .  , 
My  service  to  little  Wagge  [his  little  nephew].' 


'SIR  MUN'  IS  TREACHEROUSLY  SLAIN         335 

Early  in  the  year  1648  insurrections  in  the  king's 
favour  had  taken  place  in  various  parts  of  the 
country,  and  in  Scotland.  When  the  Duke  of  Hamil- 
ton's party  got  the  upper  hand,  it  was  resolved  to 
send  an  army  into  England  to  espouse  the  royal 
cause.  In  June  the  Kentish  Royalists  were  defeated 
by  Fairfax  ;  a  party  of  them  retreated  into  Colchester, 
where  they  held  out  for  some  time.  On  July  5  the 
Scotch  army  crossed  the  Border.  Edmund,  from 
being  so  much  with  Lord  Ormonde,  had  better  intel- 
ligence of  public  events  than  Ralph,  and  in  his  letters 
to  his  brother  he  often  passes  on  the  latest  news  from 
England  :  'Aug.  llth. — The  Prince  of  Wales  hath 
stayde  foure  shipps  on  the  Downes.'  '  Aug.  16th. — 
Collchester  still  holds  out ;  the  Scots  are  advanced 
towards  Lancaster,  Cromwell  iss  in  Yorkeshyre ; 
greate  disputes  betweene  him  and  one  Harry  Cholmelyr 
who  has  5,000  horse  and  foote  with  him  .  .  .  and 
refuses  to  be  commanded  by  Cromwell.  Noe  newes 
of  the  Prince  of  Wales.'  '  21  Augt.  Rouen. — War- 
wicke  [the  parliamentary  admiral]  lyes  in  the  river 
to  stopp  all  shipps  that  go  in  and  come  out.  Thirty 
marchand  men  are  ready  fraught,  and  sweare  they 
will  either  breake  through  him  and  the  Prince  of 
Wales  alsoe  or  sincke  in  the  attempt.'  '  Havre, 
31  Augt. — Sir  Baldwyne  Wake  iss  come  into  this 
harbour  after  my  Lord  Leivetenant  with  a  frigot 
from  the  prince  of  wales  .  .  .  the  prince  hath  lately 
taken  another  vessell  worth  £16,000  ;  he  hath  some 
34  sayle  of  shipps  with  him.  .  .  .  The  newes  iss 


336      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE    CIVIL   WAR 

very  bad  thiss  weeke  ;  the  Scots  are  certainely  totally 
routed,  and  I  doe  not  well  see  which  way  Duke 
Hambleton  and  those  horse  he  hath  with  him  can 
well  get  off  ...  there  iss  about  8,000  and  9,000 
Scotts  prisoners  allready.'  He  had  expected  on 
joining  Lord  Ormonde  at  Havre  to  find  '  my  lady 
Marquese,  but  as  she  resolves  to  stay  in  thiss  king- 
dome  [France]  till  it  be  knowne  what  will  become  of 
our  Irish  affayres,'  he  had  gone  to  kiss  her  hand  at 
Caen,  which  took  him  a  week  there  and  back,  some 
fifty  miles. 

It  was  very  touching  that  when  the  sequestration 

was  removed,  the  first  money  which  Ralph  received 

—little  enough  for  his  own  necessities — was  employed 

in  assisting  his  brother.     '  I  am  very  sensible,'  replies 

Edmund,  '  of  the  charge  I  put  you  to,  and  your  noble 

.and  free  way  of  parting  with  the  money.    I  confesse  I 

receive  not  any  thing  from  you  but  with  a  trouble, 

.and  that  I  would  rather  be  out  of  the  world   than 

continue  chargeable  to  you.     I  hope  the  way  I  am 

now  going  will  eyther  mend  my  condition  or  end  me.' 

'  Havre,  6  Sept. — The  Prince  and  all  hiss  fleete  are 

gone  for  Holland  ....  and  my  Ld  Warwicke  with 

.about   17  shipps   came   into  the    Downs  last  night. 

Though  victualling  iss  reported  to  be  the  cause  of  the 

Prince  hiss  drawing  into  Holland,  yet   I  doubt  he 

wass  perswaded  not  to  stand  Warwicke,  ass  being 

thought  too  weake,  for  he  hath  not  above  4  tall  shipps, 

the  rest  are  frigots  and  small  vessels.'     '  Wee  cannot 

passe  into  Ireland  now  without  great  danger  by  reason 


'SIR  MUN'  IS  TREACHEROUSLY  SLAIN         337 

of  my  Ld  of  Warwicke,  and  woe  be  to  us  if  we  are 
taken,  but  I  hope  better  fortunes  are  decreede  for  uss. 
Wee  have  a  gallant  vessell  with  36  gunnes  and  shall 
be  well  manned,  and  if  wee  are  not  very  much  over 
matched  shall  fight  hard  before  wee  give  ourselves 
up.  I  believe  this  totall  defeate  of  the  Scotts  has  put 
the  queene,  Prince,  and  all  theire  Councell  soe  much 
to  theire  witts'  end  that  they  know  not  which  way  to 
turne  themselves  now.  I  spake  with  Sir  Baldwyne 
Wake,  who  came  lately  from  the  Prince,  and  reports 
it  wass  really  beleev'd  that  the  Prince  should  have 
been  marryed  to  Duke  Hambleton's  daughter.' 
4 10  Sept. — There  iss  noe  jealousy  of  duke  hamilton's 
betraying  the  army,  but  lieuet.  :  generall  Bayly  who 
gave  up  the  foote  iss  much  talked  of,  and  duke  hamil- 
ton's courage  somewhat  questioned.'  Another  corre- 
spondent says  it  was  reported  that  the  duke,  l  after 
hee  rendred  him  selfe  prisoner  to  the  Lord  Gray,  tolde 
him  that  this  laste  Armie  of  Scotts  was  Invited  into 
England  by  more  members  of  the  houses  of  parlament 
then  was  the  former ;  but  I  conceive  hee  hath  don 
the  king  noe  pleasure  in  that  speach,  for  if  they  came 
really  for  the  king's  sarvice,  hee  should  not  Reveale 
the  Authors.'  Edmund  goes  on:  '  The  Scotts  are  in 
trueth  but  in  a  sadd  condition,  but  yet  I  thinke  they 
will  not  give  the  buisnesse  over,  neither  doe  I  thinke 
the  English  will  for  all  thiss  late  ill  successe.  .  .  . 
God  send  them  better  fortune,  even  to  the  downefall 
of  our  present  Tyrants,  for  whyle  they  reigne  England 
VOL.  n.  z 


338      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL    \VAR 

can  never  be  happy.  ...  I  am  of  opinion  if  wee  can 
by  any  meanes  settle  Ireland  I  shall  be  in  England 
with  men  next  spring.' 

On  August  28,  '48,  Colchester  had  been  captured 
by  Fairfax,  and  two  of  the  prisoners,  Sir  Charles 
Lucas  and  Sir  George  Lisle,  were  shot  by  sentence 
of  a  court-martial.  Poor  Edmund  was  horrified  at 
the  news,  and  writes  on  Sept.  14 :  '  Fayrefaxe's  own 
party  doe  soe  exclayme  against  the  butchery  .... 
that  it's  thought  there  iss  an  end  of  proceedings  in 
that  kind.  The  Parliament  are  selling  the  Scotts 
common  prisoners  to  the  Barbadoes  and  other  planta- 
tions, which  I  conceive  to  be  about  12,000  or  14,000 
men,  and  artickle  the  merchants  for  theire  not  return- 
ing. I  thinke  they  meane  to  transplant  the  whole 
nation  of  the  Scotts.'  Dr.  Kirton  writes  from  Paris: 
'  The  Scotts  are  sold  at  London  to  those  whoe  have 
plantations  abroade  for  .€5  the  score.'  Again  and 
again  Edmund  returns  to  the  tragedy  of  Colchester  : 
*  20  Sept. — I  shall  adde  something  now  which  must 
render  Fayrefaxe's  murthering  those  gallant  gentlemen 
the  more  odious,  and  theire  own  diurnalls  confirme 
my  argument,  for  upon  the  question  what  mercy  wass, 
it  wass  resolv'd  by  Fayrefaxe  hiss  own  commissioners 
in  hiss  name  "  that  it  wass  to  kill  or  save  whome  the 
generall  pleas'd,  but  he  had  given  that  frequent  testi- 
monye  of  hiss  civillity  to  such  ass  fell  into  hiss  power 
that  none  neede  suspect  severity,  neverthelesse  he 
would  not  be  obliged  to  mercy."  Now  let  any  person 
judge  whither  thiss  answer  and  exposition  of  mercy 


'SIR  MUN'  IS  TREACHEROUSLY   SLAIN         339 

did  not  implicitely  promise  lyfe  to  all,1  but  it  wass  a 
high  tyranny  to  bring  thiss  extreame  into  his  power, 
for  ass  every  gentleman  and  souldyer  iss  obliged  to  a 
punctuall  observance  of  the  trust  committed  to  him 
by  defending  to  hiss  utmost  all  persons,  townes,  and 
forts  under  hiss  command,  soe  there  iss  a  civill  and 
honourable  custome,  and  soe  authenticke  that  it  may 
not  impropperly  be  called  a  lawe,  amongst  souldyers 
to  give  noble  and  honourable  conditions  to  theire 
enemy  though  in  the  greatest  straight  and  necessity. 
I  shall  only  give  two  examples,  and  those  from  noe 
meane  souldyers,  and  yet  when  the  besieged  could  not 
hold  out  an  houre  ;  the  one  iss  from  the  last  prince 
of  Orange  to  those  in  the  Basse  [  ?  Bois-le-Duc]  after 
he  had  sprung  hiss  mine  and  hiss  men  upon  the 
rampiers,  upon  a  parley  beaten  of  by  drumme,  he 
caus'd  hiss  men  to  retreate  and  gave  the  besieged 
theire  own  conditions,  and  thiss  after  sixe  or  eight 
monthes  siege.  The  other  iss  from  the  Earle  of  Cal- 
lander  to  Sr  Edmund  Gary,  governour  of  Hartlepoole 
neare  Durham.  Caryes  souldyers  conspired  to  deliver 
him  up,  and  sent  thiss  offer  of  theires  to  my  lord 
Callander  then  before  the  towne,  but  my  lord  abhor- 
ring thiss  treachery,  sent  in  theire  base  engagement 
to  the  governour  by  a  trumpet  of  hiss  own,  and  withall 
hiss  name  to  a  blanke  sheete  of  paper,  and  desired 
him  to  write  hiss  own  conditions.  These  gentlemen 
of  Colchester  tooke  up  armes  by  the  prince  of  Wales 

1  This  is  incorrect ;  for   the   actual  words,  see  Gardiner's  Great 
Civil  War,  vol.  iii.  p.  458. 


340      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING    THE   CIVIL   WAR 

Mss  commission,  and  entered  into  parley  for  surrender 
of  the  towne  assoone   ass   the    Scotts   (which  were 
theire  expected  reliefe)  were  destroyed,  and  a  councell 
of  warr  would  have  condemn'd  them  had  they  sur- 
rendred  sooner,  but  ass  the  rebellion  of  England  iss 
the  most  notorious  of  any  that  ever  wass  since  the 
beginning  of  the  world,  soe  certainely  it  iss  prosecuted 
and  justifyed  with  the  most  mercilesse  inhumanity 
and  barbarisme,   otherwise  what  a  time  wass  made 
choyce  of  to  exercyse  thiss  cruelty,  just  when  they 
had  consented  to  a  treaty,  and  would  make  all  the 
kingdonie  beleive  they  were  wholly  bent  for  peace  and 
amity,  theire  actions  have  given  theire  tongues  the 
lye.  .  .  .  We  heare  theire  own  party  cry  downe  thiss 
act  ass  so  Horrid  and  barbarous,  that  it  is  beleev'd 
they  will  proceede  noe  further  in  thiss  bloudy  manner. 
The  sufferers  have  dyed  with  honour  and  glory,  and 
the  actors  live  in  horrour  and  infamy.'     Clarendon 
gives  the  following  details  :  '  Sir  Charles  Lucas  was 
their   first  work  ;  who   fell   dead  :  upon   which  Sir 
George  Lisle  ran  to  him,  embraced  him,  and  kissed 
him  ;  and  then  stood  up  and  looked  those  who  were 
to  execute  him  in  the  face  ;  and  thinking  they  stood 
at  too  great  a  distance,  spake  to  them  to  come  nearer ; 
to  which  one  said,  "  I'll  warrant  you,  Sir,  we'll  hit 
you."     "Friends,  I  have  been  nearer  you  when  you 
have  missed  me,"  he  answered,  smiling.  .  .  .  He  led 
Tiis  men  to  battle  with  such  an  alacrity  that  no  man 
was  ever  better  followed  ....  yet,  added  to  this 
fierceness  of  courage,   he  had  the  softest   and  most 


,  />    -  y^etae     'j /.>/,-, 


s 


'SIR   MUN'   IS   TREACHEROUSLY   SLAIN          341 

gentle  nature  imaginable.'  An  interesting  portrait 
of  Sir  George  Lisle,  fully  carrying  out  this  descrip- 
tion of  his  courage  and  gentleness,  hangs  in  the 
library  at  Claydon. 

Edmund  writes  on  the  28th  of  September  :  '  My 
Lord  is  resolved  to  go  aboard  this  night  and  to 
tugge  it  out  with  any  wind  and  to  sayle  on  the 
French  coast  till  he  comes  to  the  lands  end,  for  fear 
of  parliament  shipps  ;  thuss  you  see  they  make  us 
fear  them,  though  wee  will  not  love  them.'  It  does  not 
appear  on  what  day  they  sailed,  but  Edmund  arranged 
with  Ralph  that  letters  should  be  sent  through  Mr. 
Buck,  my  Lady  Marquesse's  gentleman  usher. 

He  encloses  a  note  to  little  Edmund,  aged  12, 
saying  he  knows  not  '  how  little  time  I  may  have  to 
write,  so  I  take  the  liberty  to  trouble  you  the  oftener 
while  L  am  here ' ;  signed,  '  your  uncle  and  humble 
servant.' 

A  letter  from  Mun,  dated  Oct.  5,  within  a  week 
of  his  landing,  does  not  seem  to  have  reached  Ralph 
for  months  after.  On  Nov.  23  he  writes  to  Lady 
Verney  from  Thurles  :  '  I  shall  constantly  proeserve 
not  only  a  never  dying,  but  a  constant  growing 
respect  towards  you.'  To  Ralph  he  writes  that  he  is 
compelled  much  against  his  own  desire  to  draw  upon 
him  a  bill  of  exchange  for  twenty  pistolls  to  be  paid 
to  Mr.  Cowley,  '  my  lord  german's  secretary.'  He 
has  received  the  money  at  Thurles  from  '  Mr.  Daniell 
Oneale.' 

The  execution  of  the  king  was  in  the  following 


342      YERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE  CIVIL  WAR 

January,  but  we  have  no  letter  from  Edmund  to  ex- 
press the  horror  he  must  have  felt  at  the  news.  On 
March  11  Ralph  writes  that  he  had  not  once  heard 
from  his  brother  since  the  latter  took  ship,  and 
is  much  troubled  ;  while  two  days  later  Edmund 
writes  from  Waterford  how,  in  the  extreme  difficulty 
•of  communication  owing  to  the  obstructions  at  sea 
and  the  distractions  in  France,1  '  I  have  received  but 
•one  letter  from  you,  ....  and  that  within  a  month 
after  I  landed.  ...  I  have  not  a  greater  ambition 
within  me  then  to  have  it  within  my  power  to  serve 
you,  ....  but  if  either  a  naturall  or  vyolent  death 
should  render  me  uncapable  to  performe  what  I  soe 
fervently  covet  and  desire,  then  be  pleas' d  to  receive 
thiss  acknowledgement  from  me  whyle  I  have  power 
to  make  it  of  your  being  the  best  Brother  and  best 
freind  living,'  &c. 

Young  as  he  was,  Edmund  had  seen  much  service, 
and  had  been  a  trusted  commander,  yet  such  was 
the  struggle  for  place  among  the  Irish  officers,  that 
he  writes  :  '  Though  the  peace  [between  Ormonde 
and  the  Confederate  Catholics]  here  hath  been  con- 
cluded these  two  months,  yet  it  wass  not  convenient 
for  me  till  within  these  two  days  to  have  command, 
for  some  reasons  too  long  and  not  materyall  to  relate. 
1  doe  not  doubt  but  that  the  aifayres  of  thiss  king- 
dome  will  succeede  much  to  our  own  desires,  and  that 
wee  shall  allsoe  be  able  to  prosecute  his  Majtyes> 
[Charles  II.]  service  in  England  thiss  summer.  God 

1  The  war  of  the  Fronde. 


'SIR  MUN'  IS  TREACHEROUSLY   SLAIX         343 

send  such  a  perioud  to  all  our  distractions  as  may  best 
•conduce  to  the  wellfare  of  the  king  and  the  people.' 

In  April  Sir  H.  Puckering  Newton  writes : 
'  My  lady  Marquesse  is  sent  for  to  Ireland.  I  thinke 
it  will  turn  the  sanctuary  for  us  all.'  Things  were 
indeed  looking  so  serious  in  Ireland  for  the  Parlia- 
ment, that  Cromwell  himself  prepared  to  take  com- 
mand of  the  army,  but  before  he  could  land  there, 
Jones,  who  had  been  attacked  by  Ormonde  in  Dublin, 
came  out  in  force  and  utterly  routed  the  Royalists. 
The  slaughter  was  tremendous,  and  a  false  report 
reached  England  that  Edmund  had  been  killed.  Dr. 
Denton  writes,  Aug.  16:  'It  is  certain  that  Mun 
was  slain.'  '  On  Mun  his  regiment  of  foot  and  on 
Yaughan  his  regiment  of  horse,  fell  all  the  slaughter. 
Mun  his  regiment  were  killed  all  on  a  heape,  not  one 
of  them  as  I  can  heare  but  fought  it  out  to  the  last 
even  against  horse  and  foote, — Mun  is  for  certaine 
slaine,  not  wth  out  much  regrett,  even  to  his  adverse 
party.  Jones  himself  strooke  his  hands  on  his  breast, 
and  said  he  had  rather  have  had  him  alive  than  all 
the  prisoners  he  had,  and  he  should  have  been  as 
well  used  as  ever  was  prisoner.  ...  It  was  1000  to 
•one  but  Orinond  had  beene  taken,  on  whom  there 
lights  infinite  blame,  though  not  fit  for  any  of  Mun 
his  friends  to  say  so,  he  being  at  tick  tak  and  con- 
tinued playing  after  the  alarum.  .  .  .  My  hart  hath 
beene  so  sad  since  the  newes  of  Mun  as  I  thinke  hath 
not  beene  since  Edgehill,  but  we  must  not  repine,  it 
is  God  not  the  Sabeans,  that  takes  all  away,  let  him 


344      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

do  what  seems  best  in  his  eyes.'  The  letter  goes  on 
to  say  that  Jones  had  had  Mun  honourably  buried. 
This  circumstantial  story  proved  to  be  entirely  false. 
To  have  been  killed  in  battle  would  have  been  a 
better  fate  for  the  brave  young  soldier  than  that 
which  was  reserved  for  him.  Cromwell  hastened  his 
departure,  and  was  followed  by  Ireton  and  the 
remainder  of  the  army.  Lord  Ormonde,  unable  to 
keep  the  field,  threw  all  his  best  troops  into  Drogheda, 
under  Sir  Arthur  Aston,  a  first-rate  officer  ;  '  the 
defences  of  the  place  were  contemptible  .  .  .  and  in 
two  days  a  breach  was  effected,  but  Aston  ordered 
trenches  to  be  dug  within  the  wall,'  and  the  assailants 
were  twice  repulsed  with  great  loss.  '  Cromwell  now 
placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  reserve,  ...  it 
chanced  that  the  officer  who  defended  one  of  the 
trenches  fell ;  his  men  wavered  ;  quarter  was  offered 
and  accepted  ;  and  the  enemy  .  .  .  entered  the  town. 
.  .  .  During  five  days  the  streets  ran  with  blood  ; 
1000  unresisting  victims  were  immolated  together 
within  the  walls  of  the  great  church.'  l  This  was  on 
September  11  and  12,  but  on  November  4,  Ralph 
wrote: '  I  am  yet  between  hope  and  feare  concerninge 
deare  deare  Mun,'  and  it  was  not  till  November  8 
that  Mr.  Buck  sent  him  word  of  the  death  of '  your 
Brother  and  my  deare  freind,  Sir  Edmund  Varny, 
who  behaved  himselfe  wth  the  greatest  gallentry  that 
could  be — he  was  slaine  at  Drahoda  three  dayes  after 
quarter  was  given  him  as  he  was  walkinge  wth  Crum- 

1   Lingard's  History  of  England. 


'SIR   MUN'   IS   TREACHEROUSLY   SLAIN          345 

well  by  way  of  protection.  One  Ropier  who  is 
brother  to  the  Lord  Ropier,  caled  him  aside  in  a 
pretence  to  speake  wth  him,  beinge  formerly  of  ac- 
quaintance, and  insteade  of  some  frendly  office  wch 
Sir  Ed  :  might  expect  from  him,  he  barberously  rann 
him  throw  wth  a  tuck,  but  I  am  confident  to  see  this 
act  once  highly  revenged,  the  next  day  after,  one  L* 
Col.  Boyle,  who  had  quarter  likewise  given  him,  as 
he  was  at  dinner  wth  my  Lady  More,  sister  to  the 
Earle  of  Sunderland,  in  the  same  Towne,  one  cf  Crum- 
well's  souldiers  came  and  whispred  him  in  the  eare 
to  tell  him  he  must  presently  be  put  to  deth.  who 
risinge  from  the  table,  the  lady  aske  him  whither  he 
was  goeinge,  he  answered,  Madam  to  dye,  who  noe 
sooner  steped  out  of  the  roome  but  hee  was  shott  to 
deth.  These  are  cruelties  of  those  traitors,  who  noe 
doubt  will  finde  the  like  mercie  when  they  stand  in 
neede  of  it.' 

Here  is  the  relation  from  the  opposite  point  of 
view  :  Cromwell,  writing  to  Bradshaw,  Dublin,  Sep- 
tember 16,  1649,  says,  '  It  hath  pleased  God  to  bless 
our  endeavours  at  Tredah.  After  battery,  we  stormed 
it.  The  enemy  were  about  3000  in  the  town  ;  they 
made  a  stout  resistance,  and  near  1000  of  our  men 
being  entered,  the  enemy  forced  them  out  again. 
But  God  giving  a  new  courage  to  our  men,  they 
attempted  again,  and  entered.  .  .  .  Being  entered, 
we  refused  them  quarter  :  having  the  day  before 
summoned  the  town.  I  believe  we  put  to  the  sword 
the  whole  number  of  the  defendants.  I  do  not  think 


346      VERXEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   AVAR 

thirty  of  the  whole  number  escaped  with  their  lives. 
Those  that  did  are  in  safe  custody  for  the  Barbadoes. 
.  .  .  This  hath  been  a  marvellous  great  mercy.  .  .  . 
the  enemy  had  put  into  this  garrison  almost  all  their 
prime  soldiers  under  the  command  of  their  best 
officers.  .  .  .  There  were  some  7  or  8  regiments, 
Ormond's  being  one,  under  the  command  of  Sir 
Edmund  Varney.  I  do  not  believe  .  .  .  that  any 
officer  escaped  with  his  life,  save  only  one  lieutenant 
...  I  wish  that  all  honest  hearts  may  give  the  glory 
-of  this  to  God  alone.'  In  a  subsequent  letter  he  adds  : 
'  The  following  officers  and  soldiers  were  slain  at  the 
storming  of  Tredah  :  Sir  Arthur  Aston,  governor  ; 
Sir  Edmund  Varney,  Lieutenant  Colonel,'  &c. 

To  Lenthall  the  Speaker,  Cromwell  mentions  '  the 
courage  God  was  pleased  to  give  the  defenders,  so 
that  our  men  were  forced  to  retreat  quite  out  of 
the  breach.'  Then  when  they  had  entered  the  town 
after  a  very  hot  dispute,  divers  of  the  enemy  having 
retreated  into  the  Mill  Mount,  with  the  governor,  Sir 
Arthur  Ashton,  and  divers  considerable  officers,  '  our 
men  getting  up  to  them,  were  ordered  by  me  to  put 
them  all  to  the  sword.  And  indeed,  being  in  the 
heat  of  action,  I  forbade  them  to  spare  any  that  were 
in  arms  in  the  town  :  and  I  think  that  night  they 
put  to  the  sword  about  2000  men.' 

'  The  next  day  the  other  two  Towers  were  sum- 
moned ;  in  one  of  which  was  about  6  or  7  score. 
.  .  .  When  they  submitted  (  ! ! )  their  officers  were 
knocked  on  the  head  ;  and  every  tenth  man  of  the 


'SIR  MUN'  IS  TREACHEROUSLY   SLAIN         347 

soldiers  killed  ;  and  the  rest  shipped  for  the  Barba- 
•does.'  These  were  apparently  all  English  soldiers. 
'  I  am  persuaded  that  this  is  a  righteous  judge- 
ment of  God,  wrote  Cromwell  fiercely,  concerning 
this  wholesale  slaughter  of  men  who  had  submitted, 
and  the  selling  of  hundreds  more  into  slavery.  '  The 
defendants  in  Tredah  consisted  of  the  Lord  of 
Ormond's  regiment  (Sir  Edmund  Varney  Lieutenant 
Colonel),  of  400 '  ;  &c.,  &c.  Considering  that 
Lenthall  wras  a  kinsman  of  the  Yerneys,  this  could 
hardly  have  been  an  agreeable  communication  from 
'  your  most  obedient  servant,  Oliver  Cromwell.' 
'  The  officers  and  soldiers  of  this  garrison  were  the 
flower  of  their  army,'  Cromwell  goes  on  exultingly. 
'  It  was  set  upon  some  of  our  hearts,  that  a  great 
thing  should  be  done,  not  by  power  or  might,  but 
by  the  spirit  of  God '  ;  adding.  '  it  is  good  that  God 
alone  have  all  the  glory.'  The  spirit  of  a  Jew  of 
old  smiting  Amalek  with  the  sword  of  the  Lord 
could  hardly  have  been  fiercer  and  more  uncom- 
promising, or  more  convinced  that  it  was  the  voice 
of  God  that  commanded  the  massacre  of  men  who 
had  laid  down  their  arms  and  were  at  his  mercy  ;  in 
his  eyes  the  life  of  the  individual  was  of  no  account 
at  all,  compared  to  the  interest  of  the  Commonwealth  : 

Though  now  we  must  appear  bloody  and  cruel, 
As,  by  our  hands  and  this  our  present  act 
You  see  we  do,  yet  see  you  but  our  hands, 
And  this  the  bleeding  business  they  have  done  : 
Our  hearts  you  see  not ;  they  are  pitiful 
And  pity  to  the  general  wrong  of  Rome — 
As  fire  drives  out  fire,  so  pity,  pity. 


348      VERNE Y   FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

Among  all  who  suffered  none  seems  to  have  been 
more  regretted  than  the  brave  young  soldier,  Edmund 
Verney,  aged  32.  The  favourite  of  his  father,  an 
affectionate  brother  and  friend,  who  won  upon  every 
person  with  whom  he  had  to  do  by  his  upright, 
chivalrous  conduct  and  his  care  for  all  the  weakly 
and  wanting,  thrown  upon  himself  in  those  difficult 
years,  tender  and  true,  with  a  healthy  ambition  to 
distinguish  himself,  and  a  dauntless  courage  which 
rejoiced  to  find  itself  in  the  midst  of  danger,  Edmund 
was  indeed  the  ideal  in  the  best  sense  of  a  young 
cavalier. 

Loyalty  is  still  the  same 
Whether  it  win  or  lose  the  game  ; 
True  as  the  dial  to  the  sun, 
Although  it  be  not  shined  upon. 

SAML.  BUTLER. 


349 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    '  MACHES  '    OF    THE    FIVE    GIRLS. 

Gather  ye  rosebuds  while  ye  may, 

Old  time  is  still  a  flying, 
And  this  same  flower  that  smiles  to-day, 

To-morrow  will  be  dying.   .   .   . 

Then  be  not  coy,  but  use  your  time, 

And  while  ye  may,  go  marry  ; 
For  having  lost  but  once  your  prime 

You  may  for  ever  tarry. — HERRICK. 

THE  passion  of  love,  as  it  was  understood  by  the 
knights  of  old  in  their  high-flown  protestations  to 
their  '  ladye  loves,'  and  which  in  the  modern  three- 
volume  novel  gives  the  keynote  to  all  intercourse 
between  man  and  woman,  hardly  existed  at  this  time 
with  regard  to  marriage,  which  was  usually  a  purely 
commercial  proceeding — so  much  '  portion  '  against 
so  much  income.  The  love  of  husbands  and  wives, 
of  parents  to  their  children,  was  extremely  strong, 
but  the  ordinary  falling  in  love  of  young  men  and 
maidens  is  not  thought  of  much  importance. 

1 1  mean  to  marry  my  daughter  to  £2,000  a  year,' 
writes  Sir  John  Bacchus  to  Sir  Ralph,  quite  openly. 
A  man  was  a  mere  appendage  to  the  fortune  ;  children, 
as  generally  considered,  were  only  pawns  used  to 


350      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

advance  the  position  and  the  wealth  of  the  parents. 
In  the  usual  way  the  bargaining  was  done  by  friends 
and  relations,  but  if  there  were  none  of  these  avail- 
able, the  young  lady  did  it  herself,  and  Mary  Villiers 
writes  to  a  pretendant  to  her  hand:  '  The  distracted 
times  affrights  me  from  thinking  of  mariing  ;  .  .  , 
wheras  you  desired  mee  to  make  enquiere  of  you  and 
your  estate,  I  cannot  hear  of  any  you  have  at  all ; 
and  I  would  have  you  know  without  an  estate  I  will 
never  marry  you.  nor  no  man  living,  and  such  an 
estate  as  my  friends  like  of.' l 

After  Sir  Edmund's  death  Lady  Sussex  writes  to- 
Ralph  :  '  I  am  afraid  in  these  bad  times  you  will  not 
mach  your  sisters  as  you  desire,'  but  on  the  whole,  as 
far  as  money  and  position  went,  they  did  well.  It  is 
pathetic  to  see  how  he  strove  to  do  his  best  for  the 
five  motherless  girls,  from  9  years  old  to  21,  who 
were  left  to  his  charge.  Gary  was  the  only  one  of 
the  sisters  who  had  been  provided  for  in  marriage  by 
her  father.  In  time  the  others  were  all  pretty  well 
disposed  of,  but  the  negotiations  for  their  different 
marriages,  the  bargaining  about  money  matters,  how 
much  could  be  wrung  out  of  poor  Ralph  for  the 
bride  ;  how  much  the  bridegroom  could  be  expected 
to  supply  ;  the  dropping  of  one  proposal  after  another 
by  the  friends  of  either  party  with  little  scruple  and 
no  excuse  but  the  barest  motives  of  interest,  give  a 

1  A  madrigal  of  the  time  of  Elizabeth  says  : 

If  gold  thou  hast,  fond  youth,  'twill  speed  thy  wooing, 
But  if  the  purse  be  empty,  come  not  to  me  a  sueing. 


THE  'MACHES'  OF  THE  FIVE  GIRLS  351 

curious  picture  of  the  times.  There  is,  however,  one 
love  passage  in  a  letter  from  the  second  girl,  Penelope, 
in  the  year  after  her  father's  death,  with  a  pretty 
tribute  to  her  brother's  affection  and  care. 

'  Sr  Ealph,  I  am  very  glade  to  here  that  you  are 
pleasde  with  my  not  going  to  see  my  sister  :  I  shall 
not  willingly  do  anything  bout  what  I  shall  acqueunt 
you  with  beefore  I  do  it.  For  that  good  compean- 
nion,  wch  I  speoke  to  you  of  in  my  last  letter,  I  meane 
that  cossan  of  mine,  you  will  give  him  meany  thankes 
for  the  favours  that  I  have  rescefed  from  him.  I 
could  never  a  had  more  respect  from  you,  had  I  bin 
in  the  house  with  you,  then  I  had  dealy  from  him. 
Hee  would  meany  times  com  and  site  with  mee,  or 
call  me  to  goo  a  walking  with  him  to  or  thre  ouers 
together.  I  am  confident  that  you  cannot  chuse 
bout  think  that  I  have  lost  a  very  good  compeanion 
of  him.  Hee  is  my  master  and  hee  doth  call  mee 
his  chearge.  Euer  hereafter  when  I  have  any  occa- 
tion  to  speake  of  him  to  you,  that  is  all  the  neame 
that  I  will  give  him.  I  am  confident  that  he  doos 
love  my  sister  very  well  [probably  Ralph's  wife],  for 
he  did  drinke  hur  helth  to  mee  every  day,  and  no 
pleace  would  serve  him  att  the  teabull  bout  by  mee, 
and  did  hee  not  come  so  sone  as  wee  to  sit  donne, 
the  pleace  was  left  for  him.' 

The  sisters  had  at  times  the  inestimable  benefit  of 
Tom's  exertions  on  their  behalf.  In  November,  '44r 
Susan  writes  to  Ralph  about  Mr.  Richard  Alport  : 

'  My  brother  Thomas  has  wished  mee  to  a  gentill- 


352      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

man  wch  has  avery  good  fortune  for  mee,  for  hee  has  att 
the  least  500  pound  a  year  ;  he  is  of  my  one  oppinion, 
otherwais  I  should  nott  think  of  itt.     All  y*  knows 
the  man  gives  him  good  commendations.     He  is  a 
widoer  butt  has  noe  child  ;  his  fortune  is  in  his  one 
hands  ;  he  has  scene  mee,  vows  y*  itt  is  the  furst  time 
that  ever  he  thought  of  marriing  sence  his  wif  dyed, 
&  if  he  faile   of  mee    itt    shall  be  the  last.     Uncle 
Leeke  is  coming  to  town  ab*  it.    For  my  portion  he 
never  asked    what  I  had  ;  he  is  a  prisoner  for  his 
soverraing,  but  the  has  his  liberty  to  goe  abroad  upon 
his  word.'     In  the  following  February  Tom  delivers 
himself  of  his  mind  concerning  his  sister's  situation: 
'  Since    I  am    desired   to  write  I  shall  (with  much 
brevitye)  declare  in  what  a  sad  condition  my  sisters 
in  generall  are  now  in,  and  how  (with  a  little  help  of 
yours )  they  may  be  much  bettered.  .  .  .  They  living 
att  Claydon   are    subject   to   the   affrights   of  rude 
souldiers  in  rushing  in  att  all  houres  both  by  day  & 
night,  &  not  a  man  there  that  dares  show  himself  in 
their   defence.     My  sisters   (god  help  them)   are  so 
sencible  of  their  incivilitye  allready  that  I  have  heard 
them  say  that  they  could  not  eat  hardly  in  a  week  one 
meale's  meat  contentedly.  .  .  .  Judge   you    of  this 
their   dayly   troubls,    in    case   they    should   returne 
thither   againe.  .  .  .  My    sister   pen  .  .  .  was   ever 
willing  to  confine  herself  to  such  a  small  livelyhood 
as  you  were  able  to  allow  her.     Moreover  she  hath 
(with  that  small  annuitye)  maintained  herself  like  her 
father's  daughter  and  your  sister.    Now  shee  haveing 


THE   'MACHES'   OF  THE  FIVE  GIRLS  353 

some  occasions  to  London  (not  dreameing  of  mar- 
ryage)  I  brought  a  gentleman  to  her.  .  .  .  After  I 
perceived  they  liked  each  other,  my  brother  [Harry] 
&  I  gave  a  meeting  to  his  friends  to  conclude  upon 
busynessess,  which  my  brother  not  long  since  sent  you 
the  perticulers  of.'  Ralph  does  not  seem  to  have 
acceded  to  the  demands  made  on  him  by  the  suitor, 
for  Pen  writes  indignantly  :  '  In  the  letter  you  sent 
to  my  brother  harry  was  much  joy  exprest  for  my 
hopes  of  prefarment,  for  the  which  I  return  you  many 
thanks,  but  I  find  that  youre  outward  expressions 
will  afford  me  but  little  comfort  unless  theay  are 
mixed  with  true  and  reall  affection  in  ading  to  my 
livelyhood  £20  a  yere.  The  times  I  must  confess  are 
bad,  yet  thanks  be  to  God  you  are  not  driven  to  that 
straite  but  that  you  may  add  to  my  fortin  the  above 
specifide  sum.  .  .  .  Youre  house  at  Cladon  I  am 
&  ever  have  bin  willing  to  live  in,  whilest  I  had 
compinny  that  1  liked,  but  if  my  to  sisters  will  steay 
in  towne,  it  willbee  extreme  uncouth  liveing.  How- 
soever, notwithstanding  the  outrages  of  souldiers  I 
shall  be  very  willing  to  return  to  the  place  agane,  in 
case  you  ar  minded  to  breake  this  mach  of,  which  if 
you  doe  you  must  give  me  a  live  to  think,  and  like- 
wise you  must  looke  to  be  censured  by  the  world  to 
be  the  most  unkind  and  unnatural  brother.  I  shall, 
till  this  letter  is  answered,  continue  in  that  good 
opinion  I  ever  had  of  you,  &  I  hope  you  will  give 
me  no  caus  to  the  contrary.  Good  brother,  if  you  are 
the  manes  to  breake  this  match  of,  I  pray  give  me  £5 
VOL.  n.  A  A 


354      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURINa   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

towards  my  expends  in  london,  which  will  be  sum 
helpe  to  your  most  discontented  sister.'  After  all 
this  the  affair  came  to  nothing,  and  Pen  returned  to 
€laydon. 

Henry  does  not  fancy  the  marriage  that  had  been 
talked  of  for  Susan  with  Mr.  Alport,  and  will 
have  no  hand  in  it.  While  he  is  on  the  subject 
of  his  sisters  he  puts  in  a  word  for  one  of  the 
others  :  '  Now  their  is  a  third  sister  of  yours  wants 
a  gowne  to  dance  at  the  weddinge  of  the  other 
to  as  much  as  thay '  ;  and  in  another  letter  :  '  You 
must  not  forget  Pegg,  for  she  intends  to  daunce.'  Tn 
June  he  writes  :  '  As  for  Sue's  buisiness  it  is  in  my 
onderstandinge  at  a  greate  stand,  for  I  doe  not  finde 
or  here  a  will  accept  of  any  offer  as  yet  but  ready 
money  or  no  to  content  his  creditors  ;  I  confess  I 
beelive  Sr  John  [Leeke]  hath  often  Bradge  to  divers 
of  it,  and  chifely  to  you,  to  gaine  you  farthrance  in  it. 
For  my  part  I  have  exprest  my  mind  more  freely  to  my 
sistr  and  him  then  ever  I  did  to  you,  and  indeavoured 
in  a  fayre  way  more  than  this  3  mounths  tobreake  it, 
but  my  counsell  will  not  bee  hard,  for  I  see  if  hee 
will  accept  of  her  she  is  resolved  to  take  him  wth  all 
faults  ;  I  shall  whish  her  as  much  happyness  and 
content  as  any  one  livinge,  if  it  proceede,  but  I  dout 
strongely  the  goeinge  one  of  it,  for  a  is  unconstant  in 
his  demands  ;  in  a  word  I  dout  if  it  bee  not  decided 
suddenly  she  will  suffer  in  opinnons.'  She  is  evi- 
dently rather  difficult  to  manage  in  the  matter,  and  in 
September  1645  Henry  declares  that  he  will  trouble 


THE   '  MACHES '   OF  THE  FIVE   GIRLS  355 

himself  no  more  about  her  actions  :  '  let  her  write  as 
sharpely  as  she  pleaseth  to  you,  be  confident  it  can 
•do  you  noe  hurt.'  Again  in  October  :  '  She  expects 
daley  your  answer  in  accomplishing  her  demands 
•&  desiers,  but  mistrusts  that  I  will  doe  my  best  to 
prevent  it.  ...  I  told  her  playnely,  as  I  all  way  es  did, 
my  oppinion  of  the  mach  ;  whch  was  if  she  had  him  I 
•consived  her  absolutely  undon  ;  if  she  have  him,  & 
that  my  words  prove  not  true,  hange  mee.'  About 
the  same  date  the  young  lady  herself  describes  an 
expedition  to  Clay  don  :  '  Sis  peg  and  mee  gott  an 
opportunity  of  A  coach  wch  was  to  goe  tworts  Clay  : 
so  wee  haveing  a  grete  desire  to  see  my  sisters  and 
leetle  Jack,  made  use  of  y*  &  whent  thether  to  see 
them,  butt  we  lay  butt  one  night  there.  They  are  all 
very  well  I  prays  God,  &  Jacke  yr  boy  is  ye  finest 
lustist  child  y*  ever  I  did  see,  &  God  be  thanked  very 
free  from  ye  ricketts  ;  he  is  nott  very  tall  of  his  age, 
butt  extrem  lovely.' 

The  negotiations  with  Mr.  Alport  are  still  going  on, 
and  it  seems  that  her  uncle  Leeke,  with  whom  Susan 
is  living,  favours  the  match.  In  November  she  writes 
that  her  suitor  '  dus  now  accept  of  this  last  proposi- 
tion in  yr  last  letter,  if  you  mean  itt  as  all  us  under- 
stand itt,  wch  is  this,  how  that  he  should  receve  .£200 
presently,  and  £100  in  Nov.  1616,  ye  other  £100  in 
Nov.  1647,  and  you  say  y*  you  will  do  yr  best  to  gitt 
it  for  him  sooner,  wch  if  you  can  you  will  pleasure 
him  much.'  The  stuff  for  two  gowns  which  Ralph 
promised  her  she  wishes  to  have  sent  when  this 

A  A   2 


356      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

'  proposition  '  is  '  sett.'  '  Pray  brother  lett  mee  beg 
a  payer  of  very  leetle  french  sisers  of  you,  for  now  I 
doe  intend  to  turn  workwoman,  and  a  very  good  hus 
wif,  so  y*  yr  next  letter  may  conclud  ail  bisnesis,  if 
nott  I  think  y*  I  shall  have  nothing  to  be  good 
huswife  of.' 

On  January  7,  '46,  Susan  writes  her  brother  a 
long  and  piteous  account  of  the  trying  circumstances 
in  which  she  is  placed.  Mr.  Alport,  she  says,  '  is  very 
redy  to  perform  all  things  in  10  days  worning,  so 
where  the  fault  lyeth  I  know  nott,  but  I  suffer 
extremely  in  the  tediousness  of  itt,  both  in  my  honour 
and  purse,  which  are  both  beyond  my  discretion  to 
avoid.  I  had  rather  be  buried  alive  than  loose  my 
honour,  and  I  have  often  writt  you  word  that  I  am 
att  greater  expence  than  I  am  able  to  subsist  with, 
yett  I  doe  not  find  fault  with  my  allowance,  for  I 
know  itt  is  moer  then  my  sisters  have,  yett  itt  will  not 
keepe  mee  in  london.  ...  I  am  in  debt  for  my 
diett.  .  .  .  My  deare  uncle  and  aunt,  out  of  ther 
affections  to  mee,  and  because  that  I  shall  nott  goe 
out  of  town  till  this  busnes  is  ended  one  way  or 
other,  dus  trust  mee  for  my  diett,  although  I  know 
they  doe  boreow  itt,  &  pawne  for  itt.  These  things 
troubles  mee  extremely.' 

Ralph  on  his  side  writes  to  Henry :  '  That  which 
troubles  mee  most  in  this  perticuler  is  that  I  find  by 
a  letter  from  Sir  Jo.  Leeke  .  .  .  that  Mr.  Alport 
conceives  himselfe  neglected,  and  I  am  deeply  cen- 
sured because  my  answere  to  the  letters  .  .  .  were 


THE   'M  ACHES'   OF  THE  FIVE  GIRLS  357 

not  already  come.  I  am  in  a  very  hard  condition 
amoungst  them,  when  I  must  not  only  be  condemned 
for  my  owne  faults,  but  the  uncertainty  of  the  winde, 
the  stormes  at  sea,  miscarrage  and  interception  of 
Letters,  and  a  thousand  other  hazards,  all  must  bee 
layed  to  my  charge.  This  is  pure  love,  is  it  not  ?  ' 

Henry  observes  in  answer  :  '  Sr,  it  is  love  that 
makes  her  pen  write  soe  sharply,  and  not  malise,  yet 
I  could  whish  her  more  discreete  then  to  condem  so 
good  a  freind  &  Brother,  being  I  know  faultles.' 

Ralph  indeed  seems  to  be  doing  all  that  he  pos- 
sibly could   aiford  for  his  sister.      On  Feb.   22  he 
writes  to  Sir  John  that  he  is  glad  his  sister's  suitor 
accepts  the  offer  he  made  on   Jan.  25,  '  which  was 
that  £100  that  now  lies  ready  shall  bee  paied  to  Mr. 
Alport,  with  £100  more  assoone  as  it  can  bee  made  of 
my  goods,  &  also  of  the  assignement  of  the  Land 
[as    security]    for  moneys  due  in  November  46   & 
Nov.  47.  ...  I  shall  use  my  best  endeavours  to  sell 
my  goods  in  the  country  with  all  the  speed  that  may 
bee.     I  wish  I  could  doe  it   in  an  hower,  but  you 
know  at  what  distance  they  are.'     To  his  sister  he 
writes  that  it  is  the  best  news  he  has  had  for  a  long 
time  that  she  is  contented  with  his  offer  :  '  It  seemes 
Mr.  Alport  desires  the  marrage  may  bee  in  Easter 
Weeke ;  &  that  you  know  noe  obsticle  but  want  of 
cloathes.     I  wish  there  may  not,  &  then  I  shall  not 
doubt  it,  for  I  will  write  to  a  freind  (in  case  there  is 
noe  other  obsticle,  and  that  the  marrage  is  soe  sud- 
dainly)  to  helpe  you  to  stufFe  for  three  gownes  and 


358      VERXEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

the  £30,  either  in  money  or  credit  which  is  as  good 
...  It  seemes  that  Mr.  Alport  knowes  of  noe  more 
then  £600  of  yours  in  my  hands,  and  that  hee  hath 
now  againe  .promised  you  to  quitt  mee  of  all  that  I 
owe  towards  your  Portion.  Therfore  you  must  bee 
sure  to  have  him  deliver  upp  all  the  Bonds  for  those 
moneyes  that  I  owe  towards  your  portion,  soe  that 
the  overplus  of  the  £600  may  goe  to  the  payment  of 
your  Uncle  Leeke  and  other  creditors.  Truly  what 
this  over  plus  comes  to  I  doe  not  know,  but  I  pray 
deliver  this  inclosed  to  your  Uncle  John  Denton  and 
desire  him  to  informe  mee  ;  and  then  accord  ing  to 
your  owne  desire  (when  Mr.  Alport  hath  discharged 
mee  of  the  whole)  I  shall  deduct  the  money  I  lent 
you,  &  in  the  next  place  pay  your  Uncle  Leeke 
(to  whome  you  are  infinitly  obleiged),  and  the 
remainder  you  must  dispose.' 


further  delays.  It  appears  that  Mr.  Alport,  fearing 
lest  Ralph  should  be  declared  a  delinquent,  preferred 
bonds  as  security  from  him,  instead  of  the  engage- 
ment first  proposed.  Susan  is  aggrieved  because  the 
money  for  her  clothes  is  not  to  be  given  her  till  the 
'  joynter  '  is  sealed.  '  Sartinly  noe  frind  or  foe  y*  I 
have  can  mistrust  yfc  he  will  nott  have  mee  after  y*  he 
has  drawn  ye  Joynter  &  bought  my  ring,  &  gave 
itt  mee  befoer  all  my  frinds,  and  profest  yi  he  longs 
till  itt  be  dunne.  ...  I  cannott  chuse  butt  be  in 
admiration,  that  my  cloaths  should  be  denyed,  nay  I 
did  butt  desire  my  brother  henry  butt  to  helpe  me 


THE   'M ACHES'   OF   THE   FIVE   GIRLS  359 

ether  to  stuff,  or  so  much  rnony  has  would  bye  mee 
petticoatt  &  bodys,  because  that  such  bodys  yfc  I 
wheare  cannott  be  made  under  three  weeks  time.  .  . 
Suer  itt  would  have  binne  much  handsumer  for  mee 
to  have  had  them  before  I  had  married  ...  itt  may 
begitt  a  suspition  in  his  frinds  yfc  I  brought  noe 
deaths  to  my  backe  and  y*  he  bought  me  those  wch 
you  will  give  mee.  ...  I  think  itt  is  dune  without 
yr  knowleg.' 

In  the  same  letter  there  is  mention  of  Margaret's 
matrimonial  prospects  :  '  My  sis.  peg  is  likly  to  be 
married  has  soone  has  I  am,  to  a  pretty  gentleman  of 
a  very  great  fortune.  Itt  may  be  wee  should  have 
binne  married  both  of  aday,  butt  I  will  nott,  because 
she  will  have  cloaths  licke  her  selfe  &  I  shall  nott, 
therfore  itt  must  nott  be.'  If  Pegg  had  the  best 
trousseau,  Sue  had  secured  by  far  the  kindest  hus- 
band. 

Ralph  replies  :  '  You  speake  of  Pegg's  marrage  ; 
I  wish  it  hartily,  but  I  doubt  tis  too  good  newes  to 
bee  true,  because  till  now  noe  creature  ever  made  the 
least  mention  of  it  to  your  most  affectionate  freinde 
&  servant  R.  V.' 

Although  the  letter  had  not  yet  arrived,  Henry 
had  already  written  about  the  match  for  Peg  ;  it  wa& 
his  own  doing  and  he  was  vastly  pleased  with  him- 
self for  it. 

'  Sr  in  the  middest  of  all  our  crosses  and  your 
misfortunes  I  have  some  good  newse  to  send  you 
.  .  .  wch  is  sist1'  Pegg  is  suddenly  to  be  maryed  to- 


360       VERXEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   AVAR 

Mr.  Elraes  of  Norhamtonshire.  his  estate  is  knowne 
to  the  world  to  bee  at  the  lest  to  thowsand  a  yeare, 
onley  portions  accepted.  A  makes  her  of  his  oune 
offer  five  hundred  a  yeare  good  securely  Joynter.' 
She  had  been  originally  well  provided  for  by  her 
godmother,  Mrs.  Eure,  but  apparently  of  late  the 
interest  of  her  money  had  not  been  forthcoming. 
Henry  goes  on  :  'I  will  not  say  I  brought  the  younge 
man  to  her,  but  I  may  boldly  say  had  it  not  bine  for 
mee  and  my  credit  she  will  acknowledge  it  had  never 
a  bine  don.  .  .  .  For  my  sister's  advancement  beinge 
put  to  the  pinch,  &  in  a  manner  for  lacke  of  sund 
securety  neare  broake  of  by  the  Gentleman,  I  was 
forst  ...  to  binde  my  selfe  with  the  helpe  of  J.  D. 
to  pay  him  £100,  in  regard  neither  intrest  nor  bonds 
for  the  whole  £2,000  where  well  payd  or  secured. 
Had  I  not  don  this  one  the  place  wee  treated,  it 
could  not  a  proceeded.  .  .  .  Without  your  present 
assistance  my  sister  must  a  starved,  in  respect  noe 
intrest  of  late  at  all  was  ever  payd  her.  Sir,  this  was 
a  sudden  good  fortune  in  my  Judgment  unexpectedly 
happened  to  us,  soe  that  it  was  not  possible  for  mee 
to  give  you  notis  of  my  adventuer.  Therefore  I  shall 
stand  to  your  cuertesie  to  acquit  mee  of  my  ingage- 
ment,  but  if  I  am  not  freede  of  it  by  you  .  .  .  you 
will  conclude  I  am  undon.' 

If  Susan's  match  was  long  on  hand,  poor  Peg's 
was  rather  a  case  of  '  Marry  in  haste,  and  repent  at 
leisure.'  In  less  than  a  month  from  the  date  of 
Henry's  last  letter  he  writes  again  :  '  This  is  the  wed- 


THE   'MACHES'   OF  THE   FIVE   GIRLS  361 

<3inge  day  &  I  am  instantly  goeinge  to  church  with 
my  sister,  soe  you  must  expect  to  here  but  little 
newse  or  buisiness  from  mee  at  the  present,  onley 
give  mee  leave  to  ...  tell  you  the  dispute  beetwne 
Sue  &  I  was  not  a  bout  the  cloathes,  for  she  did 
not  then  know  I  had  them.  A  fore  your  letter  came 
to  my  hands  she  had  her  taby  gowne  and  £3  of  mee, 
which  was  more  then  you  gave  mee  order  for,  but  .  .  . 
I  did  it  to  plese  her.  She  is  now  willinge  to  bee  freinds 
with  mee  and  well  she  may.  for  I  take  God  to  wit- 
ness, I  never  did  her  wronge  more  then  to  deswade 
her  from  this  mach,  which  yet  I  thinke  will  scarse 
take  effect.  The  other  to  gownes  I  have  by  your 
order  delivered  her,  and  when  she  has  my  uncle  John 
Denton's  consent  the  money  shall  be  ready.' 

This  was  written  on  May  7.  On  July  16  Susan 
composed  a  voluminous  epistle  to  her  brother  in 
which  she  treats  at  laro;e  of  her  own  circumstances, 

O  / 

and  touches  on  Margaret's.  It  is  melancholy  to  hear 
of  the  latter,  a  bride  of  a  few  weeks  :  '  poore  peg  has 
married  a  very  humersume  cros  boy  has  ever  I  see  in 
my  life,1  &  she  is  very  much  altered  for  the  worse 
since  she  was  married  ;  I  doe  not  much  blame  her 
for  beinge  so  altered,  because  sumetims  he  maks  her 
cry  night  &  day.' 

Henry's  account  of  Mr.  Elmes  is  equally  unsatis- 
factory :  '  A  proves  by  fitts  very  bad  &  divelish 
jelous,  now  and  then  for  an  houer  strangely  fond.  I 
must  doe  her  write,  she  deserves  it  not  ;  want  of 
worth  &  breedinge  makes  him  doe  it.  I  am  often 


362      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    \VAE 

forst  to  speake  bigg  words  when  a  acts  the  part  of  a 
Madman,  &  that  stills  him  for  a  time.' 

They  seem  to  have  set  up  house  in  London.  Dr. 
Denton  says,  '  Peggie  is  now  a  housekeeper  and  is 
settled  in  Coven  Garden.'  Mr.  Elmes  was  knighted 
in  1646. 

To  return  to  Susan's  affairs.  She  says,  '  The 
bisnese  is  ended  betweene  Mr.  Alporte  &  mee,  all 
butt  the  serimony  in  the  church,  which  god  willing 
shall  be  solemnised  next  weeke.  ...  I  hope  I  shall 
be  happy,  because  his  affections  has  continewed  so 
long  to  mee  nott  withstanding  all  the  oppositions.' 
She  is  promised  a  certain  overplus  of  1721.  10s.  OtL 
to  pay  her  debts  with,  and  has  acquainted  Mr. 
Alport  with  their  amount,  but  she  is  ashamed  to  tell 
him  that  a  large  sum  is  due  to  Sir  John  Leeke,  and 
that  until  it  is  paid,  his  goods  and  all  that  he  has  are- 
in  pawn. 

After  this  the  wedding  follows  pretty  quickly, 
and  on  the  day  after  she  writes  :  '  I  was  married  very 
privatly,  &  this  day  my  frinds  heareing  of  itt  came 
to  mee,  butt  I  have  beged  ther  pardon  for  my 
abceince  whilst  I  writt  to  you  &  my  sister.  In  the- 
meane  time  he  keeps  them  company.  .  .  .  My  uncle 
leeke  after  he  had  given  mee  away,  stoll  outt  of  towne.' 
And  then  comes  an  earnest  request  that  Ralph  will 
lett  her  know  what  he  is  doing  about  her  debt  to  Sir 
John.  She  continues  :  '  I  hope  that  I  am  extremly 
happy  in  him  [Mr.  Alport]  ;  I  would  nott  have  itt 
to  doe  againe  for  anything  in  this  world.'  There  is 


THE   'CACHES'   OF   THE   FIVE   GIELS  363- 

a  touching  little  postscript  to  the  next  letter  :  '  I 
was  never  so  happy  sence  my  father  dyed  has  I  am 
now,  I  thank  god.  This  is  all  that  I  can  say  of  itt 
now — he  presents  his  sarvice  to  you.' 

The  next  letter  is  a  curiously  cheerful  one  to  be 
dated  from  the  Fleet :  '  The  last  time  that  I  writt  to 
you  I  sent  you  word  that  I  was  in  the  prison  with 
my  husband,  which  it  may  be  you  might  wonder  attr 
because  I  have  formerly  writt  you  word  that  before  I 
would  marry  he  would  be  outt  of  this  place  .  .  .. 
butt  .  .  .  the  knight  that  Mr.  Alport  is  bound  for  is 
at  this  present  selling  of  land  to  redeeme  him,  and  I 
am  confident  we  shall  be  out  ...  by  Candlemas.  Itt 
is  noe  prison  to  mee  :  I  live  has  well  heare  has  ever  I 
lived  any  wheare  in  all  my  life,  &  dare  compare 
husbands  with  her  that  has  the  best.'  In  this  and  the 
following  letters  there  are  urgent  applications  for 
money  :  '  My  uncle  leeke  is  in  the  countrey,  &  duse 
send  very  often  to  mee  for  his  mony  :  he  would  faine 
have  his  goods  att  home  with  him.  that  he  might  com 
to  towne  with  outt  being  bauld  att  for  his  mony.' 
She  is  afraid  he  will  come  upon  Mr.  Alport  for  the 
debt,  and  that  this  may  be  '  a  means  to  begett  sume 
words  '  between  her  and  her  husband.  '  I  should  be 
very  sory  to  have  my  debts  or  any  thing  els  allter 
our  affections.  Deare  brother  consider  how  unhappy 
I  should  bee,  that  itt  should  fall  outt  so.'  Then  comes 
a  list  of  those  to  whom  she  owes  money.  *  If  you  will 
sattisfie  theese  I  shall  be  a  gentlewoman,  if  nott  I  am 
quitt  undune.'  Ralph  promises  to  do  all  he  can  for 


364      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

her,  but  there  are  endless  difficulties  in  the  way,  some 
of  which  concern  the  loss  of  a  '  noate.'  In  the  next 
letter  she  has  been  put  to  great  shifts  for  money.  Her 
uncle,  Sir  John  Leeke,  had  died,  and  her  aunt  being 
without  so  much  as  a  sixpence  in  the  house  to  bury 
him,  came  to  Susan  for  the  321.  so  long  owing.  She, 
poor  thing,  declares  it '  was  affliction  upon-  affliction  to 
mee,  because  I  was  not  in  a  condition  to  help  her  .  .  . 
tell  my  husband  of  itt  I  durst  nott '  ;  neither  could 
the  money  be  procured  from  any  other  friend.  At 
length  she  applied  to  her  brother  Elmes,  '  and  my 
earnist  Intreaty  &  passion  together  prevailed  with 
him  too  lend  her  20/.  .  .  .  He  tells  me  that  he  can- 
nott  tarry  longer  for  itt,  butt  whilst  I  send  to  you.' 
Then  come  further  entreaties  for  the  money,  lest  Mr. 
Elmes  should  tell  Mr.  Alport  about  it,  and  '  so  itt 
might  make  a  differaunce  betweene  .  .  .  mee  &  my 
husband  besids.  Such  a  thing  has  this  is  may  make 
a  differaunce  betwixt  man  &  wife  all  ther  lif  time  ; 
when  itt  is  dune  you  cannott  recall  it.  ...  My  unkle 
dyed  so  much  in  debt  has  I  feare  wee  shall  have  the 
corps  seised  upon  before  wee  can  gitt  itt  outt  of  towne. 
He  desired  to  be  buried  at  Chigwell,  &  thether  I  am 
goeing  with  him.'  After  this  Ralph  contrived  some 
means  by  which  the  32/.  should  be  paid. 

By  October  1  a  husband  had  been  found  for  Pen, 
a  certain  cousin  John  Denton.  It  was  not  a  grand 
match,  but  the  gentleman  was  by  no  means  exacting 
in  the  way  of  settlements  ;  in  fact  there  is  reason  to 
believe  that  he  was  the  admirer  of  whom  she  had 


THE   'MACHES'   OF  THE   FIVE  GIRLS  365- 

written  three  years  before,  and  everything  seemed 
satisfactory  except  some  drawbacks  in  the  character  he 
had  at  one  time  borne.  There  was  no  time  to  consult 
Ralph,  nor  did  the  bridegroom  ask  his  father's  leave  at 
first.  '  One  my  word/  says  Henry,  '  I  know  not  one  in 
England  would  a  made  her  his  wife  one  the  like  condi- 
tions. .  .  .  One  my  life  it  was  not  out  of  disrespect  or 
contempt  to  you,  for  had  she  stayd  for  your  approba- 
tion, she  must  have  lost  him  ;  this  one  my  fay  th  I  must 
witness  for  her.  Sr,  she  was  sensible  her  portion  lay 
in  a  desperate  condition,  besides,  she  grew  in  yeares 
&  was  not  to  all  men's  likinge  ;  these  reasons  made 
her  soe  ready  to  yeeld  to  his  desires,  havinge  most  of 
her  freinds'  consent  present.  I  confess  when  she  sent 
post  for  mee  I  knew  not  of  it,  but  when  she  told  mee 
I  did  not  oppose  it,  but  prest  him  much  to  tarry  till 
I  could  informe  you  of  it.  One  noe  condition  a 
would  not,  lest  you  should  putt  a  stopp  to  it  If  his 
father  &  mother  at  their  aryvall  whome  [i.e.  home] 
like  of  it,  I  am  in  greate  hopes  a  will  make  a  kind 
and  lovinge  husband  ...  a  hath  in  a  manner  given 
over  drinking,  or  else  you  may  assuer  your  selfe  I 
had  ever  soe  much  reall  Affection  for  her  as  never  to 
a  yellded  to  it.'  He  then  goes  on  say  that  he  has 
advanced  her  30/.  for  '  gownes  &  linnen,'  which  he 
hopes  Ralph  will  repay  him,  and  not  think  that  he 
has  been  '  prodegall  ...  for  had  I  a  bine  to  a  payd 
it  myselfe,  I  protest  I  could  not  a  bine  more  sparinge 
less  she  had  gon  naked  to  him.'  Then  comes  an 
entreaty  to  the  parental  elder  brother  that  he  will  also- 


366      VERNE Y   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

pay  a  debt  of  10/.  which  Pen  has  incurred,  '  that  I  may 
justly  sware  to  her  new  father  when  wee  goe  that  she  is 
clad  like  a  gentlewoman,  &  owes  not  in  the  world  a 
penny.  I  purpose  in  3  or  4  dayes  to  carryer  whome 
to  him,  then  I  will  returne  you  an  account  of  our 
wellcome,  god  grant  it  may  bee  a  good  one.' 

Ralph  in  the  meantime  had  heard  something  of 
the  matter  and  wrote  to  Dr.  Denton  :  '  Now  for  Penn, 
if  you  could  marry  her  to  J.  D.  'twould  bee  a  master 
peece  of  servise,  &  obleige  us  all ;  I  thirst  after  it, 
therfore  I  pray  try  your  best  skill.  I  confesse  I  doe 
not  see  any  greate  inconvenience  to  the  two  younge 
ones  if  the  deed  had  been  donn  without  acquainting 
the  father,  for  I  beeleeve  the  Land  is  setled,  &  if 
they  carry  themselves  wisely  &  with  respect  to  him,  a 
little  time  &  good  nature  would  procure  an  act  of 
Oblivion.  Keepe  this  to  your  selfe,  for  at  this  dis- 
tance I  cannot  judg  well  of  this  matter.' 

In  the  end,  however,  the  question  whether  to  dis- 
pense with  the  father's  consent  did  not  arise,  and 
Henry  wrote  :  '  I  have  broake  the  Mach  to  his  father 
and  mother,  soe  that  thay  both  approve  of  it,  and  have 
recived  her  with  greate  content  &  make  infinite 
much  of  her  ;  my  sister  is  well  plesed,  soe  if  the 
•Gentleman  continue  Amorus  I  hope  the  mach  will  be 
happy  for  both  ;  as  I  write  you  word  afore  it  was  an 
adventuer,  but  as  it  did  luck  it  hath  suckceeded  well. 
...  If  her  hussband  prove  good,  as  I  hope  a  will,  I 
dout  not  at  all  the  kind  usage  of  his  freinds,  for  thay 
:are  perfect  good  and  honnest  people.' 


THE   'M ACHES'   OF  THE  FIVE  GIRLS  3G7 

A  fortnight  later  the  newly-married  wife  herself 
writes  to  apologise  for  not  having  waited  for  her 
•eldest  brother's  consent,  and  assuring  him  that  she  had 
*  desird  no  more  money  then  what  did  supply  my 
present  nesesity,  and  rny  weding  was  without  haveing 
,my  frinds  at  it,  being  very  sencibull  I  put  you  to  a 
further  charge  .  .  .  give  me  live  to  till  you  that  I 
have  an  exselent  father  &  mother-in-law,  and  I 
hoope  A  Good  husband.' 

There  were  now  only  two  unmarried  sisters. 
Poor  little  Betty,  aged  thirteen,  produces  a  letter  to 
her  eldest  brother  in  a  laboured  copybook  hand,  and 
desires  him  '  not  to  expect  many  lins  from  me,  for  love 
-consist  not  in  words  but  in  deads,  for  my  hart  cannot 
•expres  it  self  in  the  outward  apreanc  so  far  as  in 
woardly  it  is  afected,  by  reson  of  my  tender  years.' 

Mary  or  Mall  was  five  years  older,  and  a  year 
before  this  time  had  been  considered  worthy  the 
notice  of  her  brother  Henry.  He  wrote  of  her, 
September  5  : '  As  for  sister  Mary  she  hath  left  her  ould 
trickes  &  like  to  prove  the  handyest  of  them  all,  wch 
reioyses  mee  much.'  Again  :  '  I  must  enlarge  rnyselfe 
a  little  conserninge  sister  Mary  ;  she  is  now  growne  a 
womman  &  desiers  much  with  your  consent  to  be  a 
broade  ;  she  is  handy  &  as  I  thinke  most  fitt  for  it  ; 
it  is  pitty  she  should  continue  much  longer  where  she 
is,  for  the  sight  of  the  world  &  being  in  company 
would  doe  her  much  good  ;  if  you  a  prove  of  this  my 
motion  let  mee  here  your  minde,  &  I  shall  doe  my 
best  to  fullfill  her  desire,  wth  credit  and  for  as  little 


368      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

charge  to  you  ;  she  is  witty  &  very  tractable  to  please.' 
She  should  go  to  some  place  '  where  she  may  larne  a 
little  breedinge,  for  indeede  she  lacks  it.'  Ralph 
replies  he  would  gladly  have  it  done  had  he  where- 
withal, and  asks  where  Henry  proposes  to  place  her  ; 
where  she  is  now  (Claydon)  '  her  diet  and  cloathes- 
costs  little,  and  one  maid  serves  her  and  the  rest  .  .  . 
I  pray  consider  well  whether  her  remove  at  present 
may  not  bee  more  for  her  disadvantage,  for  if  that  place 
where  shee  is  should  bee  sequestred,  she  beinge  there 
might  get  something  to  keepe  her  from  beggery  & 
starving,  where  as  if  she  bee  removed  perhapps  they 
would  not  be  soe  kinde.' 

Henry  replies  in  his  grand  style  :  '  I  did  forbare  to 
tray  my  friends  till  I  had  your  consent  in  generall.  I 
can  tell  you,  to  one  greate  countes  or  other.  I  shall 
say  no  nore  but  breedinge  she  wants  much,  which  at 
the  ende  will  prove  her  ruine.'  After  this  gloomy 
prognostication  he  goes  on  to  propose  that  she  and  Pen 
should  live  for  a  while  '  att  a  Parke,  I  have  lately  taken 
posetion  of  it,  it  is  Otlands,  my  couseu  hath  plast  mee 
in  ...  If  you  will  give  Mall  leave  it  will  I  know 
content  her  much  and  please  mee  well.' 

However,  in  a  subsequent  letter  it  appears  that 
'  Sister  Mary  did  not  fancy  the  lodge,  in  regard  it  stood 
alone  and  that  it  was  in  my  Absence  malencoly.' 

The  money  troubles  of  the  Alports  seem  never 
ending.  In  December  '46  Susan  gives  the  history  of 
a  quarrel  she  had  had  with  Tom's  wife,  to  whom  she 
owed  III.  This  lady  hearing  that  the  Alports  had 


THE   'MACHES'   OF  THE   FIVE  GIRLS  360 

received  a  certain  sum,  '  she  corns  with  open  mouth  ta 
my  husband  for  this  mony,  &  swore  to  him  yf  hee 
did  nott  pay  her  that  she  would  have  his  hart  bloud 
outt,  yf  ever  he  sett  his  futt  outt  of  doores,  &  called 
mee  all  to  naught  and  swore  she  would  kick  mee^ 
This  was  dune  in  the  Fleett,  which  did  inrage  my  hus- 
band so  extremly  that  hee  sayed  sumthing  which  she 
tould  my  brother  of  ...  my  brother  sent  my  hus- 
band a  dialling.  ...  I  had  noe  body  to  stand  my 
frind  to  take  up  this  bisnes,  butt  my  unkle  Doctor 
.  .  .  who  gott  my  brother  Thomas  &  diverse  of  my 
frinds  after  itt  was  known,  &  chid  him  soundly,, 
butt  all  that  they  could  say  to  him  did  noe  good 
without!  the  mony.  That  I  could  nott  pay  &  my 
hus  would  nott,  so  to  avoid  bloud  my  unkle  Dr.  layed 
downe  the  £11 '  ;  and  the  upshot  of  it  all  is  to  beg 
that  Ralph  will  repay  the  Doctor. 

At  this  time  Ralph's  wife  had  just  come  to  London 
to  try  to  get  the  order  for  sequestration  taken  off  his 
estates.  She  wrote  her  husband  minute  accounts  of 
the  family  doings,  in  which  she  speaks  her  mind  pretty 
freely  concerning  her  sisters-in-law  and  their  be- 
haviour. '  Tis  a  very  great  blessing  to  us  that  thay 
[the  elder  sisters]  are  all  maried  ;  for  I  did  neavor  in 
my  life  see  or  hear  of  soe  much  indiscretion  as  is 
amongst  them  ;  truly  there  is  not  one  of  them  that 
hath  any  discretion.'  A  day  or  two  after  her  arrival  she 
writes :  '  My  sister  Alpott  made  an  invitation  to  me  & 
a  very  great  dinner  ...  I  doupt  they  are  poore,  butt 
she  hath  a  mighty  kind  husband.'  Again  :  '  Sue  hath 

VOL.  n.  B  B 


370      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

a  very  kind  husband  as  tis  posseble,  but  very  deboche  ; 
soe  y*  I  feare  if  he  have  any  estate  itt  will  come  to 
noething  very  suddainly  .  .  .  Truly  to  say  truth  she 
makes  very  much  the  best  wife  of  all  your  sisters,  and 
studdies  nothing  butt  to  please  her  husband,  and  if  you 
did  butt  see  him  you  would  wonder  how  she  could 
be  soe  fond  of  him,  butt  indeed  I  think  he  is  very  kind 
to  her  ;  butt  I  feare  they  will  come  to  be  in  wantes, 
for  I  doe  nott  see  any  great  hopes  of  his  freedom  & 
the  lieing  there  makes  him  spend  a  very  great  deale  of 
money  ;  I  beleeve  he  had  better  have  payed  the  dept 
att  ferst  twice  over  ;  for  lieing  there  &  haveing  nothing 
to  doe  hath  bredd  such  a  habitt  of  drinking  on  hime 
that  he  can  doe  noe  thing  elce.'  .  .  .  '  Poore  Pegg 
hath  soe  ill  a  husband  that  I  cannott  give  you  a 
carracter  badd  enoughe  of  him  ;  &  I  feare  she  will 
make  herselfe  a  very  unhapy  woeman,  for  I  neyther 
like  the  councell  y*  is  given  her  nor  ye  way  she  takes 
with  him '  ;  and  when  Gary  and  her  second  husband 
went  to  stay  with  the  Elmes,  Lady  Verney  says,  '  Tis 
a  hundred  to  one  pegg's  husband  turns  them  out  of 
his  howse  again  within  a  fortnight.  .  .  .  Betty  went 
ye  other  day  to  see  her  sister  Pen  :  whoe  they  say  looks 
misserablely  ;  &  thatt  they  are  much  in  disorder  in 
that  house,  &  y*  her  hus  :  begins  to  flye  out  &  be 
deboist  againe.  ...  I  think  when  pleas  god  to  enable 
me  to  goe  downe  [to  Claydon]  I  had  best  eyther 
take  away  or  locke  upp  all  that  is  of  ye  best  and  take 
away  ye  keyes  my  selfe  ;  for  I  find  they  will  all  take 
what  they  have  a  mind  toe  elce  ;  for  nott  long  agoe  I 


THE   'M  ACHES'   OF  THE  FIVE   GIRLS  371 

sent  to  Mrs.  Francis  to  send  me  up  a  wrought  sheete 
if  there  were  any  doun,  because  I  know  your  mother 
when  she  died  left  some  to  work  .  .  .  butt  she  sent 
me  word  that  there  was  one  nott  quite  fineshed  which 
your  sister  Penn  took  away  with  her  ;  &  upon  ye  same 
grounds  for  ought  I  know  they  may  take  away  all 
that  is  left.' 

In  August  '47  Lady  Yerney  went  down  to  see 
to  matters  at  Claydon,  and  wrote  from  thence  to  her 
husband :    '  My   sister    Sue   gave   my    sister    Penn 
noetice  of  my  coming  downe  ;  soe  she  &  her  husband 
&  his  Brother  were  here  2  or  3  dayes  before  I  came 
to  meete  me,  &  stayed  wth  us  here  as  long  after  I 
•came  downe  ;  which  hindred  me  very  much  &  I  think 
they  would  have  stayed  longer  if  I  had  spake  much 
to  them  ;  my  sister  Pegg  &  Gary  hath  sent  to  see 
whether  I  was  come  because  they  would  come  hether 
toe,  butt  I  have  gott  my  Sister  Mary  to  putt  them  as 
civelly  as  she  could  off  from  coming  because  here  is 
neyther  bedds  nor  sheetes  to  lay  them  in  ...  &  I 
know  theyre  husbands  would  think  itt  a  very  strange 
thing  to  be  soe  entertained  as  they  must  have  bin 
heare,  soe  I  hope  they  will  have  more  witt  then  to 
come  ...  for  my  owne  green  furnetur  wch  you  putt 
downe  in  ye  noate  to  bring  away  your  sister  Penn 
about  toe  yeares  agoe  plundred  you  of  itt,  &  ye  side 
saddle  to  itt.     I  neavor  knew  any  thing  of  itt  untell 
that  morning  she  went  away,  &  then  she  told  me  of 
itt  ...  butt  I  gave  them  to  understand  when  she 
was  gon  how  much  I  resented  ye  taking  away  the 

B  B   2 


372      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

sheete  &  that  toe  without  soe  much  as  asking  for  itt ;. 
butt  they  all  say  yfc  she  swore  you  gave  them  to  her 
&  she  would  have  them  by  force,  &  that  I  had  more 
then  that  came  toe  of  hers.'  August  18. — £  I  did  a 
little  incivelly  putt  of  your  sister  Gary  and  Pegg 
from  coming,  because  I  was  very  unwilling  theyr 
husbands  should  see  ye  sorryfull  doings  thatt  is  in 
this  place  ;  butt  for  penn's  husband  he  is  soe  very 
simple  thatt  twas  noe  great  matter  for  him,  butt  in? 
my  opinion  he  is  as  fitt  a  match  for  her  as  can  be, 
though  she  outgoes  him  much  in  cuning,  for  she  is 
deadly  craffty.  ,  .  .  here  is  a  great  looking  Glass  & 
Mrs>  Francis  &  Will  Roades  swers  they  have  had  ye 
heviest  life  to  keep  itt  that  can  be  Imagioned  ;  for 
your  sisters  have  often  threatned  if  they  would  nott 
lett  them  have  itt  to  bring  a  troupe  of  horse  to  break 
downe  the  wales  where  twas.' 

The  account  which  Lady  Verney  writes  at  first  of 
Mary  and  Betty  is  not  much  more  favourable  than 
that  given  of  the  elder  sisters,  though  after  a  while 
Mary  showed  capabilities  of  something  better.  Her 
sister-in-law  lost  no  time  in  trying  to  get  a  husband 
for  her,  even  before  she  had  herself  seen  the  girL 
February  4,  '47. — '  I  beleeve  our  neighbours  att 
the  duke's  garden  are  nott  yett  come  .  .  .  but  when 
they  doe  come  be  assured  I  will  doe  my  best  to- 
game  the  man  you  meane,  but  I  feare  much  he  will 
nott  think  ye  woeman  [Mary]  hansom  enoughe,  for 
every  body  sayes  she  is  the  plainest  of  them  all,  butt 
she  hath  a  great  deale  of  witt  &  they  say  is  a  very 


THE   'MACHES'   OF  THE  FIVE  GIRLS  373 

•good  huswife,  but  extream  clownish ;  every  body 
heare  makes  great  complaints  to  me  that  they  both 
/have  noe  breeding  &  sey  itt  is  nott  ntt  they  should 
be  kept  in  that  place  [i.e.  Claydon]  any  longer  ; 
I  tell  them  I  beleeve  you  will  be  very  willing  to 
lhave  them  any  where  elce  ;  where  they  may  be  better 
bredd  or  more  pleased  ;  I  beleeve  they  are  now  upon 
a  desighne  of  putting  ye  eldest  of  the  twoe  [Mary] 
eyther  wth  my  sister  pegg  or  Gary  ;  butt  I  beleeve  she 
will  cost  you  more  in  eyther  of  ye  then  she  doth  ; 
they  sey  she  must  needes  learne  to  dance  for  toe 
•monthes  ;  send  your  opinion  in  all,  truly  I  think  you 
had  better  allow  her  a  little  more  &  put  her  out 
'because  she  is  a  woeman  both  in  yeares  &  groweth  ; 
"but  my  opinion  is  she  will  quickly  retourne  againe  ; 
for  they  are  but  very  uncertaine  places  ;  but  truly  I 
should  be  most  extreamly  glad  if  we  could  make  ye 
match  for  her  wth  that  man  ;  for  certeinly  if  she  had 
him  she  were  much  the  hapiest  maried  of  all  ye  sisters  ; 
for  I  am  sure  he  is  very  good  &  civell ;  &  I  doupt 
mone  of  theyres  are  soe.' 

A  little  later  she  says,  '  A  man  brought  me  word 
that  my  sister  Mall  is  come  to  towne  which  is  the 
ferst  word  that  ever  I  hard  of  any  such  design  ;  itt 
.seemes  they  keep  theyr  matters  very  privately  .  .  . 
she  is  now  at  Drs-.  Mis  Ise  [Mrs.  Isham]  spake  to 
•me  that  you  would  bestow  forty  shilling  for  toe 
monthes  dancing  for  her,  soe  I  promised  her  that,  but 
•elce  I  doe  not  meddle  with  them  .  .  .  she  is  much 
-the  plainest  of  them  all  ...  but  reasonable  straight 


374      VERNE Y   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   AVAR 

.  .  .  she  may  make  a  very  good  wife,  for  they  say 
.  .  .  she  hath  witt  enough,  but  as  wild  as  a  buck. 
Lady  Verney  took  a  severe  view  of  their  behaviour. 
On  March  25,  '47,  she  writes  again  :  '  I  tell  you  my 
opinion  I  think  they  are  all  toe  Indescreete  to  gett 
a  descreet  Man  .  .  .  they  say  Mall  shall  goe  into 
the  country  to  live  wth  her  Sister  Pegg  soe  soone  as 
she  getts  her  husband's  consent,  ...  I  feare  if  we 
goe  about  to  cross  her  in  liveing  where  she  may 
&  hath  a  mind  to  she  will  think  we  are  bound 
to  lett  her  live  with  us  ;  for  they  sey  she  hath  a 
great  deale  of  witt  &  craft ;  she  hath  neavor  been 
but  twice  wth  me  since  she  came  to  towne,  neyther 
doe  they  evor  ask  my  advise  for  any  thing  they 
make  or  doe  concerning  her  ;  soe  I  take  noe  notice 
of  any  thing  they  doe  ;  butt  I  find  Mis  Ice  [Mrs. 
Isham]  orders  most  of  her  matters  .  .  .  truly  she 
wants  fashion  much,  but  I  feare  where  she  is  [with 
Gary  Gardiner]  she  will  rather  learne  rudeness,  for 
they  are  all  very  wild.' 

Ralph  replies  :  '  I  much  wonder  at  Mall's  coming 
upp,  but  more  that  she  did  it  without  your  know- 
ledge, that  must  not  bee  sufFred,  unlesse  you  meane 
she  shall  bee  your  Master,  therfore  I  pray  expresse 
your  dislike  therof,  &  mine  too  (if  you  thinke  fit), 
for  whilst  she  is  at  my  allowance,  I  expect  bee  made 
acquainted  with  all  such  motions,  informe  mee  at 
large  of  all  that  concernes  her.' 

In  another  letter  Lady  Yerney  gives  more  details 
of  the  arrangements  proposed  for  the  girl :  '  Xow 


THE   'MACHES'  OF  THE  FIVE   GIRLS  375 

for  Mall  going  to  live  with  her  sister.  ...  I  find 
they  desire  thatt  you  should  give  her  her  allowance 
for  her  clothes  a  part  &  pay  for  her  diett  your  selfer 
&  nott  lett  her  doe  itt  for  feare  she  should  spend  itt 
&  leave  her  diett  unpayed  for  ;  which  hath  been  the 
greatest  hindrance  to  make  Pegg's  husband  stick  att 
the  receaving  ;  for  he  is  soe  base  thatt  he  was  afrayde 
he  should  nott  be  sure  to  be  payed  for  her  diett  .  .  . 
your  frend  Mr  Br[owne]  y*  lived  att  ye  Duke's 
garden  was  wth  me  yesterday,  soe  I  told  him  point 
blank  thatt  if  he  would  marry  I  would  help  him  to  a 
wife  ;  I  told  him  the  condition  of  the  woeman  &  how 
she  had  been  bredd  in  the  country  wch  he  was  much 
pleased  withall  ;  I  told  him  her  portion  was  to  be  a 
thowsand  pound,  &  how  thatt  untell  that  was  raysed 
she  had  fifety  pound  a  year  allowed  her  .  .  .  now  he 
seemed  to  like  all  very  well,  butt  he  sayed  he  thought 
his  owne  fortune  was  to  meane  to  desarve  her,  for 
whatt  ...  he  had  untell  his  mother's  deth  he  gave 
me  to  understand  was  butt  fifeteen  hundred  pound. 
...  I  did  nott  name  the  woernan  to  him  nor  told 
him  whatt  relation  she  was  to  us  ;  now  I  confess  the 
man  is  very  desarving,  but  his  fortune  is  meane  & 
whether  she  would  accept  of  itt  I  know  nott  ...  if 
his  fortune  were  liked  off  I  could  lett  hime  see  her 
wth  out  letting  him  know  she  is  your  sister  untell  I 
knew  whether  he  liked  her  or  nott  ;  though  he  told 
me  he  should  nott  like  her  ye  worse  for  nott  being 
very  hansom.'  May  27. — 'Will  Johnson  (Roades) 
tells  me  ...  he  hath  ever  payed  18  pound  a  yeare 


376      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

for  Mall's  diett,  now  truly  twelve  pound  a  yeare  is 
•very  little  for  her  clothes  concydering  how  every 
body  goes  heare ;  yett  I  would  nott  give  him  order 
to  give  her  any  more  untell  I  know  your  mind  ;  for 
I  find  by  one  of  your  letters  that  you  reckon  she  shall 
•cost  you  but  30  pound  a  yeare  in  all  .  .  .  Mis.  Jce 
[Mrs.  Isham]  sayes  that  there  was  an  allowance 
payed  for  Mall's  washing  beside  her  diett  &  she 
had  the  helpe  of  a  mayde  beside,  which  noebody  will 
lett  her  have  for  18  pound  a  yeare.'  June  24. — '  Next 
week  Mall  goes  downe  toe  wth  my  child  .  .  .  truly 
I  thinke  her  sisters  would  be  all  three  gladd  to  have 
her  if  thay  were  in  a  condition  to  take  her,  for  they 
love  her  very  well.'  August  10. — '  I  hear  Mall  hath 
a  great  mind  to  ye  guilte  cabbenett  that  was  your 
mother's  .  .  .  soe  I  entend  to  give  itther  .  .  .  truly 
I  like  her  ye  best  of  them  all  ;  she  is  very  playne, 
butt  hath  a  great  deale  of  witt  &  is  nott  att  all  proud e 
butt  very  thrifty  &  willing  to  do  any  thing  for  any 
body.' 

After  this  we  hear  that  Mary  has  gone  to  be  with 
•Cary,  and  Ralph  is  to  allow  30/.  for  her  diet  and 
15/.  for  her  clothes. 

Poor  Betty  seems  to  have  been  generally  dis- 
approved of  in  the  family,  and  probably  not  without 
reason.  The  first  notice  of  her  in  the  correspondence 
between  Lady  Verney  and  her  husband  is  in  April 
^47  :  '  your  sister  betty  writt  me  a  letter  .  .  .  the 
effect  of  itt  was  that  she  should  be  content  to  stay  at 
Olaydon  untell  such  time  as  we  should  think  fitt  to 


THE   '3IACHES'   OF  THE  FIVE  GIRLS  377 

•  dispose  of  her  somewheare  elce  that  might  be  more 
to  her  advantage  for  to  better  her  breeding.'  April 
15. — c ...  I  hear  betty  expected  I  should  have  sent 
for  her  from  Claydon  as  soon  as  I  came  over  ;  they 
say  she  is  much  ye  worst  natured  &  willfullest  of 
them  all.  ....  they  say  she  is  a  pestelent  wench. 
...  I  have  in  one  of  my  former  letters  advised  you 
to  lett  her  have  twelve  pound  a  yeare  to  find  her,  for 
she  thinks  much  of  wearing  any  thing  but  silk  ;  soe 
I  doe  nott  see  butt  one  gowne  will  cost  more  then 
halfe  that  money  ...  I  hear  she  makes  her  selfe 
sure  to  live  with  us  ;  butt  I  gave  some  of  them 
to  understand  that  she  is  like  to  be  deceaved  in 
those  thoughts ;  butt  I  doe  nott  find  any  body 
willing  to  take  her,  for  they  all  say  she  is  very  ill 
natured.' 

A  little  later  Lady  Verney  again  recommends 
that  Betty  should  have  a  fixed  allowance  of  12/.  a 
year  for  clothes,  '  for  all  heare  keepes  theyr  daughters 
in  silk  ;  ye  Dr>s  Wife  ye  other  day  made  nue  silk 
gownes  for  every  one  of  her  daughters  &  I  asure 
you  betty  doth  not  point  of  wearing  any  other,  &  Mis. 
Ice  [Mrs.  Isham]  &  all  of  them  think  itt  fitt  itt 
should  be  soe,  &  truly  I  cannott  Imagion  which  way 
you  can  keep  her  in  silk  att  that  rate.'  May  20. — 
'  Now  whatt  course  to  take  with  Betty  I  vow  I 
cannott  Imagion,  for  upon  noe  conditions  in  the 
world  I  will  nott  have  her  ;  &  where  to  place  her  I 
know  nott,  for  she  growes  up  apace  &  thinks  her 
selfe  a  vvoeman  allready.  I  think  we  had  best  advise 


378      VERXEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

with  her  frends  whatt  to  doe  with  her  &  to  place  her 
where  they  shall  thinke  fitt,  for  where  soevor  we 
should  place  her  if  we  make  itt  an  act  of  our  owne 
we  shall  be  condemned  in  itt.  .  .  .  They  say  she  is  so 
cross  &  willfull  y*  noebody  that  knowes  her  is  willing 
to  take  her,  I  pray  God  make  my  chilldren  good 
&  enable  us  to  provide  for  them,  as  well  for  theyr 
eldest  Brother's  sake  as  theyr  owne.  .  .  .  Concern- 
ing Mrs.  Francis  [Alcock]  her  mariage  ...  I  writt 
her  word  y*  I  did  beleeve  you  would  give  her  your 
consent  for  to  remayne  there  still,  ...  for  itt  will 
nott  be  fitt  by  noe  meanes  for  Mall  &  Betty  to  live 
at  her  husband's  howse,  for  he  is  butt  an  ordinary 
Grasiur  &  a  mean  condition  man  .  .  .  Betty  is  of  a 
cross  proud  lazy  disposition  ...  I  heare  she  poyntes 
much  of  being  wth  me.'  In  another  letter  Lady 
Verney  writes  of  a  plan  for  Betty's  living  with  Pegg. 
The  latter  had  desired  her  sister-in-law  to  speak  to  Sir 
Thomas  Elmes  about  the  matter,  '  which,'  says  Lady 
Yerney,  '  I  did  ;  &  told  him  that  Betty  desired  itt,  & 
that  I  had  rather  she  should  be  wth  his  wife  then  any 
body  elce,  because  she  was  grave  and  descreete  & 
knew  how  to  governe  her  better  then  others.  &  that 
he  should  be  payed  for  her  diett.  .  .  .  Soe  when  he 
found  he  should  nott  loose  by  her  he  told  me  she 
should  be  very  wellcom  .  .  .  but  I  beleeve  twenty 
five  pound  a  yeare  will  be  the  least  that  they  will 
take  for  her  diett ;  &  truly  I  doe  nott  see  how  you 
can  give  them  less  to  find  her  in  washing  &  firing 
&  all.' 


THE   'MACHES'   OF  THE  FIVE  GIRLS  379' 

Betty,  however,  when  taken  away  from  Claydon 
and  Nan  Fudd,  the  nurse  who  had  brought  her  up, 
turned  desperately  homesick.  There  is  a  long,  quaint 
letter  from  Mall  to  Lady  Verney  at  Misterton 
describing  her  behaviour,  and  in  spite  of  the  ill- 
temper  she  showred,  one  cannot  help  feeling  some 
sympathy  for  the  poor  motherless  girl.  It  is  written 
from  Green's  Norton,  the  Elmes'  place,  where  Gary 
and  Mall  were  staying.  Brother  Edmund,  too,, 
had  come  over  on  a  few  days'  visit  from  Misterton, 
and  had  evidently  been  causing  much  merriment 
and  making  himself  much  beloved  by  his  younger 
sister. 

'  My  Deare  Sister,  Just  now  my  wicked  brother 
Mun  is  com  to  us,  but  wree  have  all  moust  scrat  out 
his  very  eyes  out  of  his  balle  pate,  so  that  hee  must 
see  by  the  holes,  or  not  att  all.  Heethretenes  to  give 
mee  a  Spanish  fig,  but  if  hee  doth  not  please  me  beter 
then  hee  hath  don  sence  hee  cam  hether,  I  will  give 
him  a  Spanish  pill  and  macke  him  giddy,  so  that  hee 
shall  never  find  the  waie  to  Misterten  to  torment  you 
any  more  ;  but  I  think  as  I  shall  not  neede  to  macke 
him  gidy,  for  that  hee  hath  binne  a  grete  whille,  & 
I  feare  doth  groe  everry  day  more  gider  then  other. 
For  hee  had  not  binn  halfe  a  nower  with  us  but  he 
was  a  showing  mee  his  faver  as  my  Cousin  gave  him, 
&  att  that  Instant  he  toock  gidy  &  blushed  to  see  as 
I  laffc  att  him.  I  am  som  thing  fearefull  of  that  parte, 
but  I  live  in  hoopes  as  it  will  never  be  accomplished. 
My  sister  bety  cam  hether.  last  Monday,  but  is  so 


380      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

werey  of  beeing  heare,  as  she  had  rather  live  att 
Claydon  all  dayes  of  her  life  then  to  stay  heare.  Shee 
cries  &tackes  on,  &  is  so  sad  as  you  cannot  Immagen, 
&  my  sis  Gardiner  &  my  selfe  .  .  .  hath  treyed  all 
the  waies  as  posobell  wee  could  to  perswade  her  to 
stay  &  trey  tell  shee  comes  from  lundon  againe,  but 
all  we  can  doo  will  not  worcke  of  her.  So  that  my 
sis  gardiner  desiered  mee  to  right  you  wood  of  it,  for 
shee  would  goo  to  Claydon  when  I  goo  to  lundon. 
And  truly  I  doo  think  as  shee  will  all  moust  grive 
her  selfe  to  deth  when  wee  are  gon  ;  for  I  think  as 
my  sister  gardiner  will  goo  be  foare  my  sister  Elmes. 
But  I  can  not  excues  my  sister  bety's  faly  att  all,  for 
if  I  shuld  all  the  world  mite  condem  mee  for  it  & 
very  Justly,  for  it  showes  a  gret  dell  of  Indiscreshon 
in  her  to  doo  as  shee  doth.  .  .  .  Shee  sayes  as  shee  had 
rather  be  wheare  I  am  then  with  any  of  my  sisters.  I 
confes  as  my  sister  Elmes  whent  to  qwick  a  waie 
to  her  att  the  furist,  &  that  is  not  the  waie  as  shee 
'must  have  youst,  &  so  my  sister  gardiner  &  I  told 
her.  They  are  both  of  a  very  hasty  disposishons,  & 
so  much  as  they  will  never  a  gree  together,  &  my  sis 
bety  is  sory  as  shee  did  not  consider  of  it  bee  foare 
shee  cam,  but  truly  my  sister  &  my  brother  hath 
binn  very  cind  to  her,  but  all  will  not 'perswade  her 
to  stay  heare,  &  my  brother  would  have  his  wife  to 
send  her  horn  on  Mundy  nex,  but  I  am  confident  as 
shee  will  repent  of  her  foly  when  shee  groes  beger. 
But  shee  sayes  as  shee  had  rather  live  att  Claydon 
then  heare,  or  att  my  auntt  Dr's.,  for  shee  hats  that 


THE  'M ACHES'  OF  THE  FIVE  GIRLS     381 

as  bad  as  this.  .  .  .  My  brother  Sr  edmund  had  all 
moust  tore  my  letter,  &  I  told  him  as  hee  would  sarved 
your  letter  as  hee  would  doo  you  if  it  lay  in  his  power.. 
Wee  doo  wish  him  with  you,  or  with  his  Mis  againe, 
for  heare  is  no  liveing  with  him  hee  is  so  rud.  Now 
hee  sayes  as  you  sayed  as  wee  shuld  be  a  wery  of  him 
beefoare  night,  &  truly  I  am  &  so  wee  are  all.  I 
bee  scheech  you  parden  mee  for  trobelling  you  with 
my  longe  episells,  but  I  would  not  abinn  so  teges 
[tedious]  but  that  occashon  of  my  sister  betys  made 
mee,  but  I  shuld  be  am  bishous  of  the  licke  faver  as 
this  leter  will  receve,  which  is  to  kis  your  hand,  &  to- 
re maine  your  moust  Afecshoned  sis  &  sarvantt  to  the 
utmoust  of  her  power  Mary  V.  .  .  .  My  sister  bety 
presents  her  sarves  to  you  &  is  very  sory  if  shee  hath 
ofended  you  in  this  &  yearnestly  desiers  your  pardon 
for  it,  &  begs  of  you  to  let  her  goo  to  Claydon  againe 
to  live.' 

Matters  seem  to  have  come  to  a  crisis,  for  a  day  or 
two  later  Lady  Elmes  writes  herself  to  Lady  Verney 
that  Betty  had  gone  the  day  before.  'I  confes  the 
suddennes  of  hur  being  wery  of  my  company  seemes 
sumthing  strainge  to  me  consedowring  with  what 
kindness  I  yoused  hur.  .  .  .  She  was  soe  violent  to  be 
gon  as  that  she  wresolved  to  goe  home  a  foote  wrathor 
then  to  stay  heare.  For  my  part  I  thenck  hur  past 
being  soe  very  a  baby  as  to  doe  this  owght  of 
chilldishnes,  which  made  me  to  take  it  ill  from  hur. 
And  a  nother  thing  is  that  she  sayes  as  I  am 
passhionat  &  soe  is  she,  which  makes  hur  to  thencke 


"382      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

as  we  to  showlde  nevor  a  gre  to  gethor,  but  this  I  can 
saifely  sweare,  Let  my  pashon  be  nevor  soe  great  I 
nevor  shoed  any  att  all  to  hur  .  .  .  Pray  send  munsy 
back  againe  quickly  to  me.' 

It  was  annoying  for  Lady  Yerney  to  receive  these 
letters,  just  when  she  thought  Betty  was  safely  dis- 
posed of,  and  in  writing  to  her  husband  she  expressed 
her  disapprobation  of  the  girl  very  freely.  '  I  must 
tell  you  in  how  great  Choller  I  am  with  your  sister 
Betty  ...  I  spake  with  her  before  I  did  any  thing 
in  itt,  &  she  told  me  thatt  she  should  think  her  selfe 
very  hapy  to  goe  to  live  with  Pegg.  ...  If  I 
pass  by  Claydon  I  shall  lett  her  know  a  peece  of  my 
mind.' 

It  is  suspected  that  Nan  Fudd  is  at  the  bottom 
of  this  misbehaviour,  hoping  by  getting  back  her 
former  charge  to  become  indispensable. 

A  little  later  Lady  Verney  describes  an  interview 
she  had  with  the  culprit  on  her  way  to  town.  '  She 
was  nott  at  all  sencible  of  any  thing  I  could  say  to 
her,  &  yett  I  told  her  I  did  nott  know  any  body  that 
would  now  take  her  ...  I  as  I  was  advised  sayed 
all  this  &  much  more  to  trye  her,  butt  she  was  nott 
att  all  moved  att  itt,  butt  was  as  soone  as  she  was 
out  of  the  roome  as  merry  as  evor  she  was  in  her 
life.' 

Ralph  replies :  '  For  Betty,  since  she  is  soe 
straingly  in  love  with  her  owne  Will,  let  her  rest 
with  Mrs.  Francis,  where  she  may  have  leasure 
•enough  to  repent  her  Folly.  ...  I  pray  god  she 


THE   'MACHES'   OF  THE  FIVE  GIRLS  383 

proove  not  a  sister  Tom,  beeleeve  mee  shee  is  too  like 
"him.1 

In  the  following  spring  Betty  was  again  taken  in 
hand.  Lady  Yerney  had  by  this  time  returned  to 
France,  and  her  eldest  brother  writes  from  Blois  :  '  If 
itt  bee  thought  for  Bettie's  advantage  to  bee  sent  to 
a  scole,  though  itt  be  deare  I  am  content  to  be  putt 
to  that  charge.  Itt  seemes  the  mistress  demands 
£25  a  yeare  for  Diett  teaching  &  all  other  things/ 
He  then  requests  that  Betty  may  be  fitted  out  with 
clothes  and  placed  at  the  school.  '  I  pray  advise 
her  &  charme  her  too  concerning  her  cariage 
there.' 

Poor  Betty  seems  not  to  have  approved  of  this 
change  of  abode  any  more  than  she  had  liked  the 
former  attempt  to  improve  upon  her  way  of  living. 
Her  uncle  writes  :  '  She  is  a  strange  perverse  girle  & 
soe  averse  from  goinge  thither  that  she  doth  not 
sticke  to  threaten  her  owne  death  by  her  owne  hands, 
though  my  girles  (who  have  beene  there)  give  all 
the  commendation  that  can  be  ...  of  that  schoole.' 
A  few  days  later  :  *  On  Friday  last  with  many  teares 
&  much  regrett  Betty  went  to  schoole,  but  I  droled 
it  out  &  there  I  left  her.'  Ralph  addresses  a  serious 
letter  of  remonstrance  to  the  girl,  and  is  anxious  to 
'know  whether  Betty  will  be  taught  religion  at  school ; 
but  another  letter  from  Dr.  Denton  says  his  wife  has 
been  to  see  her,  and  '  Betty  is  Betty  still.' 

After  this  it  is  really  a  comfort  to  hear  in  the 
.autumn  of  a  complete  reformation.     In  October  her 


384      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

uncle  goes  to  see  her,  and  writes  :  '  It  was  a  visitt 
well  bestowed,  for  in  my  life  time  I  ne'er  saw  soe 
great  a  change  in  countenance,  fashion,  humor  & 
disposition  (&  all  for  the  better)  in  any  body,  neyther 
could  I  imagine  it  possible  it  could  have  beene  wrought 
soe  soone.  She  now  seems  to  be  as  contented,  as 
ere  before  she  seemed  discontented,  (and  in  earnest  it 
was  the  most  bedlam  bare  that  ere  I  hampered),  and 
if  wife  can  judge  .  .  .  she  keeps  her  cloaths  as  well 
&  as  cleanly  as  can  be.'  In  December  '49  there 
is  a  '  glass  combe  case  '  sent  to  Sir  Ralph  in  a  parcel 
from  home  '  wrought  by  Betty  Verney,'  by  which  he 
is  to  see  '  shee  hath  not  altogether  lost  her  time.' 
To  improve  thus  decidedly  the  girl  must  have  had 
good  stuff  in  her,  and  when  we  find  from  the  old 
note  book  that  Elizabeth  Yerney  married  Charles 
Adams,  a  minister  in  Essex,  there  seems  ground  for 
hoping  that  on  the  whole  she  made  a  good  clergy- 
man's wife. 

One  is  glad  to  hear  that  Mr.  Alport  did  at  length 
succeed  in  getting  out  of  the  Fleet,  and  that  in  June 
'48  he  was  able  to  take  his  wife  to  his  own  house.  She 
writes  to  Ralph  :  '  My  long  expected  happynes  to  see 
home  is  com  att  last,  I  have  binne  in  Cheshire  this- 
ten  days,  where  I  find  a  pittifull  reuened  house  for 
want  of  liveing  in,  not  only  so  butt  plundred  besids. 
I  found  nothing  in  it  but  bare  walls.  I  must  bee 
contented  with  them  till  Sir  Hugh  Calabey's  debts 
are  payed,  &  happy  shall  I  bee  yf  my  husband  may 
continew  heere.  Itt  is  but  a  leetle  house,  butt  very 


THE   'MACHES'  OF  THE  FIVE  GIRLS  385 

pleasant.  I  caiiott  brag  y*  I  am  lickly  to  tarry  heer, 
I  feere  this  happynes  will  nott  last  long,  for  ther  is  an 
execution  out  against  my  hus  for  my  lord  of  Lough- 
borough,  &  Sir  Hugh  together.  .  .  .  Pray  give  my 
treu  love  &  sarvice  to  my  sister,  whom  I  had  writen 
to,  butt  I  have  had  to  much  company  ever  senc  I 
cam  downe  yfc  I  have  nott  time  to  settle  my  selfe.  I 
am  a  sorry  housekeeper,  I  have  nothing  aboutt  rnee, 
nott  so  much  as  a  cow,  nor  dare  nott  meddle  with 
any  yett,  butt  am  forced  to  keepe  a  tenaunt  in  my 
house  &  by  all  of  him.'  Overton  Manor,  the  '  leetle 
house  butt  very  pleasant,'  still  exists,  though  sadly 
modernised.  In  Susan's  time  it  was  a  half-timbered, 
gabled  house,  projecting  in  the  upper  storey  (such  as 
are  still  seen  in  Chester),  with  a  pointed  stone  arch 
over  the  moat.  Built  in  a  sequestered,  sheltered 
nook,  it  is  thus  described  by  a  correspondent  who 
has  just  visited  it  in  March  1892  :  '  Overton  Manor 
is  about  a  mile  from  Malpas  Church,  down  hill  the 
whole  way.  There  is  a  well-defined,  narrow  moat, 
not  more  than  four  or  five  feet  wide,  which  inclosed 
about  an  acre  of  ground,  an  imposing  row  of  new 
pig-styes  between  the  moat  and  the  house,  and  a 
very  modern  front  door  ;  but  at  the  back,  completely 
hemmed  in  with  new  buildings,  are  two  rather  pretty 
gable-ends  of  the  old  house.' 

It  is  a  pleasure  after  so  many  worrying  applica- 
tions from  Susan  to  Ralph  for  money,  to  find  a  little 
note  in  his  handwriting  dated  March  10,  1650:  'I 
writ  sist.  Alport  thanks  for  offring  mee  her  £600,  but 

VOL.  n.  c  c 


386      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE  CIVIL  WAR 

I  would  not  accept  it,  least  in  these  ill  times  I  should 
not  bee  able  to  pay  her  constantly.' 

She  did  not  long  enjoy  her  home,  poor  thing. 
In  Feb.  '51  she  died,  as  the  old  note  book  says  '  of 
her  3d  child  '  ;  '  they  were  all  still  born.' 

Her  husband  writes  of  her  loss  :  '  You  hoped  to- 
have  heard  of  my  poor  geirle's  safe  deliverance,  butt 
with  a  really  afflicted  soule  I  am  enforced  to  returne 
you  the  most  truly  sadd  account,  .  .  .  for  itt  hath 
pleased  Almighty  god  in  his  Judgment  (for  my  great 
skis)  to  lay  the  greatest  &  most  heavy  affliction 
uppon  mee,  that  ever  was  on  any  man.'  He  then 
goes  on  to  tell  of  her  being  taken  ill,  mentioning  '  the 
gentlewomen  with  her,  mongst  which  was  Mrs.  Poole, 
a  sister  to  my  Lrd  of  Shrosberry,  and  Mrs.  Dutton, 
Sir  Jo  :  Reinold's  daughter,  whom  I  presume  you 
know.  .  .  .  Shee  sayd  aloud — Now  I  thank  God  I 
am  delivered — calling  mee  to  kisse  her  ;  the  child 
had  life  in  it  &  stirred  an  hower  after  it  was  borne. 
.  .  .  shee  to  all  our  apprehensions  was  safe  layd  in 
bed  ;  but  within  a  quarter  of  an  hour  shee  faynted, 
&  ...  could  nott  bee  revived  butt  a  very  little  space, 
&  faynt  again  which  she  continued  about  three 
houres,  &  then  itt  pleased  god  shee  dyed,  which  was 
about  twelve  A'  clocke  on  Saturday  night  1st  Feb. 
.  .  .  which  was  the  fatalls  houer  that  ever  befell  mee. 
.  .  .  God  sanctify  my  sorrowes  to  mee.  ...  Itt  was 
no  little  addicon  to  my  trebles  to  finde  that  shee 
could  nott  bee  kept  so  long  unburied  untill  I  might 
have  provided  all  things  fitting  for  funerall.  Shee 


THE   'M  ACHES'   OF  THE  FIVE  GIRLS  387 

was  buried  on  Munday  about  3  aclock  in  Malpas 
church,  in  iny  owne  vault  wher  I  intend  (god  will- 
ling)  &  hope  shortly  to  ly  myselfe,  accompanied 
with  all  the  gentry  in  this  cuntry  thither  ;  wher 
preached  Mr.  Holland,1  a  most  reverend  divine,  one 
who  hath  bin  much  conversant  wiih  her  ever  since 
shee  came  hither,  &  administred  the  sacra*  to  us  not 
10  days  before ;  &  truly  hee  did  her  all  right  in  her 
commendacon,  which  was  justly  very  high  &  I  be- 
leeve  almost  above  any  of  her  sex.  I  am  yett  a 
willing  prisoner  to  my  greefe  in  my  disconsolate  & 
now  altogether  cornfortlesse  chamber.'  The  beautiful 
old  church  of  Malpas,  on  the  top  of  the  steep  hill  up 
which  the  sad  funeral  procession  toiled,  is  one  of  the 
most  interesting  churches  in  Cheshire.  Here  Richard 
Alport's  father  was  buried  in  1624,  and  his  own 
name  and  that  of  several  of  his  children  are  to  be 
found  in  the  parish  register.  The  record  of  Susan's 
burial  is  lost ;  during  the  Civil  War  the  entries  are 
imperfect,  and  some  were  copied  afterwards  from 
loose  sheets  into  the  book.  Susan  must  have  had  an 
affectionate  disposition,  and  as  one  reads  her  hus- 
band's description  of  his  bereavement  one  hopes  that 
she  was  not  an  unworthy  daughter  of  her  noble 
father. 

1  The  Hon.  and  Rev.  Trevor  Kenyon,  Rector  of  Malpas,  who  has 
kindly  looked  up  the  history  of  his  predecessor,  a  strong  Royalist, 
writes  :  '  A  sermon  of  the  Rev.  William  Holland's  is  extant  repro- 
bating the  heresies,  schisms,  and  personated  holiness  of  the  ruling  party 
in  the  plenitude  of  their  power.  Mr.  Holland  married  Cecily  Walthaw, 
of  Wistanson  ;  he  left  100?.  to  the  poor  of  Malpas,  which,  I  fear,  is. 
no  longer  extant.' 

c  c  2 


388      VERXEY  FAMILY  DUKING   THE   CIVIL  WAR 

Penelope's  history  was  very  different.  Her 
husband,  John  Denton,  died  in  1663  ;  and  though 
they  had  had  three  children,  none  of  them  lived  to 
grow  up.  She  married  secondly  a  '  Sir  John  Osborn 
of  Devonshire,'  by  whom  she  had  no  children.  She 
lived  till  the  year  before  Sir  Ralph's  death,  when  she 
died  in  Whitehall  at  the  age  of  seventy-three,  and  was 
buried  at  Claydon. 

Poor  Margaret's  lot  does  not  seem  to  have  grown 
happier  as  time  went  on.  '  Peg's  husband  hath  a 
trick  to  stop  her  letters  at  the  post  house,'  writes  Sue, 
much  aggrieved,  when  recounting  her  sister's  domestic 
worries.  But  her  fair-minded  brother  cannot  allow 
that  the  fault  lies  entirely  with  the  husband. 

Sir  Ralph  writes  in  August  '48  :  '  Elmes  com- 
plaines  that  Pegg  &  her  friendes  curse  him  &  threaten 
him,  &  how  his  owne  Brother  was  faine  to  lie  at  his 
Baylie's  house,  &  that  Pegg's  friends  put  him  to 
Extraordinary  charges  with  Horses  etc. ;  this  Pegg 
•ought  not  to  doe  nor  suffer  ;  she  should  rather  court 
his  friends  if  she  desire  to  regaine  his  hart.'  The 
discomforts  of  this  unhappy  menage  increased  until 
a  formal  separation  was  talked  of,  and  a  letter  from 
Sir  Ralph  to  Edmund,  who  was  trying  to  act  as  a 
mediator,  is  curious  as  giving  a  picture  of  the  pro- 
prieties of  the  time  for  a  woman  in  so  difficult  a 
position.  Sir  Thomas  Elmes  will  give  her  but  a 
very  small  allowance.  '  I  wish  with  all  my  hart,' 
writes  Sir  Ralph,  '  that  they  were  well  reconcyled 
againe,  butt  I  doubt  that  cannot  be  donn  suddenly,  I 


THE   'MACHES'   OF  THE  FIVE  GIRLS  389 

pray  wriglit  to  Pegg  efectually  aboute  it  &  desire  her 
to  advise  with  the  Dr  [Denton]  in  what  place  she 
had  best  live,  &  above  all  charge  her  not  to  exceed 
in  clothes,  espetially  in  bright  coulors  [she  was  only 
five-and- twenty],  nor  to  keep  much  company,  for  itt 
is  nott  fitt  for  a  person  in  her  condition  eyther  to 
flant  it  in  clothes  or  appeare  often  in  publique  as  at 
playhouses  and  tavernes.  though  itt  be  with  her 
owne  &  nearest  f rends,  a  retired  country  life  were 
much  better  for  her,  butt  in  this  time  of  warr,  I  doe 
nott  conceave  her  owne  house  the  fittest  place  for 
her,  because  she  will  be  liable  both  to  quartering  sol- 
diery, &  a  thousand  rude  actions  which  too  many  of 
your  profession  doe  falcly  call  gallantry.  If  she  doe 
leave  her  house,  I  hope  he  will  give  her  good  furni- 
ture for  her  chamber  &  a  bedd  for  her  maide,  with 
some  linnen  for  her  bed  &  bord.  ...  I  am  confident 
he  is  soe  much  a  gentleman  that  he  will  not  refuse 
her  these  nessesaries,  &  more  then  meere  nessesaries 
I  hope  she  will  not  desire  of  him.'  Another  time, 
when  Dr.  Denton  has  them  in  his  house  to  try  and 
make  peace,  he  says  that  their  language  is  not  to  be 
matched  in  Billingsgate. 

When  in  recent  years  the  vault  underneath  the 
chancel  was  opened  in  which  the  Verneys  were  buried, 
a  sort  of  mummy- shaped  coffin  was  seen  standing 
upright.  The  name  on  it  was  Margaret  Elmes,  and  the 
carpenter  on  seeing  it  observed  that  he  now  under- 
stood the  tradition  he  had  heard  as  a  child,  that  there 
was  one  of  the  Verneys  buried  there  upright,  because 


390      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

she  had  said  '  she  had  been  upright  in  her  life  and 
would  be  the  same  in  death.'  It  was  a  curious 
means  that  the  poor  woman  took  to  vindicate  her 
reputation. 

Mary  was  not  '  in  ached '  till  1655,  when  she 
married  Mr.  Robert  Lloyd  of  Cheshire.  Her  son, 
Captain  Verney  Lloyd,  has  left  many  descendants. 
When  Mary  died  in  1684,  a  tablet  was  put  up  to 
her  memory  in  Chester  Cathedral,  in  one  of  the  bar- 
barous inroads  to  which  the  cathedral  has  been 
exposed,  the  tablet  was  torn  down  and  lost,  but  the 
present  Sir  Harry  Yerney  has  put  up  a  new  one  to 
replace  it,  the  inscription  having  fortunately  been 
preserved  in  an  old  guidebook. 

And  so  we  leave  the  five  sisters,  who  in  their 
early  years  were  a  source  of  so  much  trouble  and 
perplexity  to  their  brother.  Certainly  we  cannot 
feel  them  to  have  been  worthy  of  their  excellent 
parents,  but  considering  the  disadvantages  of  their 
youth  it  may  be  said  that  they  did  as  well  as  can  be 
expected  of  frail  human  nature. 


391 


CHAPTER   XV. 

THE    END    OF   MANY    THINGS    AND    PEOPLE. 

Days,  that  in  spite 

Of  darkness,  by  the  light 

Of  a  clear  mind,  are  day  all  night. 

Life,  that  dares  send 
A  challenge  to  his  end, 
And  when  it  comes  say,  Welcome,  friend  ! 

CRASH  AW. 

THE  meeting  between  Ralph  and  his  wife  on  her 
return  to  France  in  April  1648  must  have  been  in 
some  ways  a  sad  one.  The  mother's  grief  for  the 
loss  of  her  little  girl  would  spring  afresh  at  the  sight 
of  the  empty  nest  where  she  had  left  the  bright  face 
of  her  beloved  Peg  ;  and  the  baby  boy  for  whose 
safety  and  welfare  she  had  undergone  so  much,  was 
dead  also. 

They  stayed  for  several  weeks  at  Paris  on  their 
way  south,  partly  no  doubt  in  order  to  meet  Edmund, 
who  was  soon  to  embark  on  his  last  journey  to  Ireland 
with  Lord  Ormonde,  and  perhaps  because  of  a  natural 
shrinking  on  Mary's  part  from  coming  back  to  Blois. 
A  few  weeks  after  their  return  thither  she  writes  of 
being  weary  of  the  place.  Ralph  went  by  himself  to 
Tours  to  seek  fresh  quarters,  but  could  find  nothing 


392      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

suitable,  and  they  had  to  resign  themselves  to  remain- 
ing at  Blois.  The  dulness  and  stagnation  of  a  French 
country  town  where,  as  Ralph  declares,  '  no  newes  is 
ever  heard  '  and  '  nothing  ever  comes  to  pass  in  this 
woful  place,'  must  have  told  heavily  on  one  fresh  from 
the  interesting  society  of  London — seeing  and  hearing 
some  of  the  best  men  and  women  of  that  most  stirring 
time — society  in  which  she  herself  was  so  well  fitted 
to  join  and  indeed  to  shine.  When  one  reads  how  her 
uncle-doctor  brought  '  parliament- men '  and  lawyers 
to  her  little  lodging,  it  is  clear  how  he  reckoned  on  the 
power  of  her  charm  and  capacity  for  business  to  in- 
fluence and  persuade  them.  Now  she  had  nothing 
to  do  but  to  look  after  her  little  household  and  her  two 
boys,  who  were  most  of  the  day  with  their  tutor,  the 
French  pasteur,  and  to  cheer  the  tedious  life  of  her 
husband.  The  English  exiles  come  and  go  ;  the  youog 
Earl  of  Strafford  is  in  France,  Sir  John  Osborne 
(afterwards  Duke  of  Leeds),  Mr.  Pierrepoint,  Mr. 
Ogilvy  ;  none  will  stay  at  Blois  who  can  help  it.  Mrs. 
Sherard  writes  to  her  :  '  I  find  by  the  Dr  that  you 
are  verey  mallincaley  since  you  went  over  last.  I 
pray  have  a  care  as  you  imbrace  not  that  hewmor,  for 
it  is  both  trobulsom  &  dangerus/  Sir  Ralph  has 
countless  letters  still  to  write  about  the  never  ending 
complexities  of  his  money  matters  ;  Dr.  Denton  is,  as 
ever,  his  trusted  adviser,  though  he  sometimes  declines 
to  take  the  responsibility  of  decisions  from  off  his 
friend's  shoulders  :  '  I  will  not  teach  my  grandam  to 
shoe  goslings  ;  you  can  send  Pen  (or  any  body  else)  an 


THE  END  OF  MANY  THINGS  AND  PEOPLE   39S 

answer  that  shall  signifie  nothinge,  when  you  have  a 
mind  to  it,  as  well  as  ever  a  Dr.  in  Angleterre  ! ' 

The  letters  that  passed  between  Ealph  and  other 
English  exiles  are  chiefly  of  a  sad  complexion  :  the 
news  from  home  and  the  difficulties  of  maintaining 
themselves  being  their  principal  themes.  But  in  con- 
trast to  these  is  one  writer  of  a  most  lively  turn  of 
mind — Sir  Henry  Puckering  Newton — who  sports 
like  a  butterfly  on  the  troubled  surface  of  society, 
apparently  as  little  depressed  by  the  course  of  events 
in  England  as  if  he  were  on  a  pleasure-tour.  He 
takes  very  lightly  the  dangers  of  travelling  in  France, 
judging  by  the  following  letter  written  to  Kalph  from 
Orleans.  He  promises  a  fuller  account  of  himself 
'  when  I  come  swiming  doune  againe  to  Blois  as  wise 
as  I  came  hither.'  There  is  no  company  at  present 
to  travel  with,  and  he  dares  not  venture  alone  with 
'  the  messenger.  ...  I  have  taken  time  to  consider  till 
teusday  which  way  to  bee  depouille  with  most  con- 
tentement,  and  then  Blois,  Paris  or  Rouen,  Devill  do 
thy  worst.'  France  was  by  no  means  an  abode  of 
peace,  and  even  from  dull  little  Blois  Ealph  writes  r 
'  If  these  Troubles  should  force  me  to  leave  this  Toune 
...  at  present  I  know  not  whither  to  goe  to  a 
better,  yet  the  changes  of  Warre  being  various,  per- 
ad venture  I  may  be  compelled  to  some  sudden  remove.' 

The  progress  of  public  events  at  home  was  most 
disquieting.  In  July  1648  the  Scotch  army  entered 
England  ;  on  the  29th  one  of  the  Verney  letters 
describes  the  dissensions  between  the  Lords  and 


VERXEY   FAMILY   DURING    THE   CIVIL   WAR 

Commons  :  '  The  Commons  have  voted  the  scotts 
Enemyes  to  England  ;  the  lords  refuse  to  concurre 
with  them.  .  .  .  The  citty  seeme  to  adhere  to  the 
upper  house.  It  is  expected  that  every  day  now 
should  produce  strange  and  notable  effects.  The 
citty  are  weary  of  Skippon,  and  desire  an  ordinance 
for  Massey  or  Browne  for  theire  Major  generall.' 1 
Aug.  11. — '  It's  certaine  the  citty  and  house  of  com- 
mons are  at  much  distance,  and  the  citty  are  now 
listing  horse  without  theire  order.' 

On  August  17  came  the  defeat  of  the  Scotch — a  ter- 
rible blow  for  the  Eoyalists  and  for  the  Presbyterians. 
The  latter,  however,  had  so  far  regained  the  upper 
hand  that  negotiations  were  renewed  with  the  king, 
and  a  correspondent  of  Ealph's  wrote :  '  It  is  thought 
that  this  treaty  will  conclude  a  peace,  the  King  being 
not  unresonable  but  inclinable  to  condesend  to  all.' 
But  the  conferences  dragged  on  for  two  months  with- 
out any  definite  result,  till  on  November  29  Charles 
was  seized  by  order  of  the  army  council,  without 
whose  consent  negotiations  with  him  were  hencefor- 
ward impossible.  In  a  few  days  Parliament  itself  had 
fallen  under  control  of  the  troops.  Dr.  Denton  writes 
on  November  23  :  '  Here  is  at  present  a  strange  con- 
sternation of  spiritts  amongst  all  people,  for  the  Army 
hath  interposed  about  the  treatie,  and  the  generall 

1  One  is  reminded  of  the  Cavalier  song  in  Rokeby,  which  has  the 
true  ring  of  the  old  Royalist  feeling  : 

Will  you  match  the  base  Skippon  and  Massey  and  Browne 
With  the  barons  of  England  that  tight  for  the  crown  ? 


THE  END   OF  AIANY   THINGS  AND  PEOPLE      395 

•expectation  is  for  worse  and  more  sad  times  then 
ever.'  December  7. — '  Drake  is  att  this  present  in 
the  hands  of  the  Army  with  many  other  members, 
some  say  50,  others  more,  others  lesse,  which  was 
seised  uppon  yesterday  goinge  to  the  house.  What  the 
issue  will  be  God  knowes.  .  .  .  It  is  an  ill  time  now  to 
treat  about  land  ;  .  .  .  noe  man  will  touch  uppon  that 
stringe,  for  the  Army  is  att  the  Parliament  doores,  and 
secure  all  the  members  they  can  light  on  that  they 
suppose  will  vote  contrary  to  their  remonstrance, 
particularly  they  have  seized  of  your  acquaintance 
Drake,  Wenman,  Ruddier,  Nat  ffines,  Prinne,  Sir  G. 
Gerard,  and  I  know  not  how  many  besides.'  After 
some  details  about  business  the  Doctor  continues  his 
account  mingled  with  a  little  sarcasm  :  '  The  Army 
doe  not  to-day  as  yesterday  catch  and  imprison  the 
members  .  .  .  but  now  they  only  stand  att  the  doore 
with  2  roules,  and  if  their  names  be  in  such  a  roule 
then  they  may  enter,  if  in  the  other  then  they  may  not. 
Soe  that  none  enter  now  but  our  frends,  and  you  shall 
see  we  will  doe  righteous  things  at  last.  Most  of  the 
secured  members  lay  in  Hell  last  night,  and  are  now 
gone  to  the  generall.  There  is  scarce  enough  left  free 
to  make  a  house.' 

The  army,  under  the  influence  mainly  of  Crom- 
well, now  took  the  helm.  That  great  general  may 
have  been  a  truly  disinterested,  high-minded  man,  but 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  when  the  reign  of  the 
law  is  over,  when  a  country  is  only  to  be  governed 
by  the  sword,  we  have  reached  a  lower  level,  and 


396      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

moreover  one  which  must  be  provisional  and  tran- 
sitory. 

The  party  in  power  was  bitterly  hostile  to  the 
king.  On  January  2,  '49,  the  Commons  passed  an 
ordinance  instituting  a  High  Court  of  Justice  by  whom 
he  was  to  be  tried.  The  Upper  House,  or  what  re- 
mained of  it,  made  a  futile  attempt  at  resistance.  Dr. 
Denton  wrote : '  I  heare  the  Lds  on  Tuesday  last  voted 
all  null  since  ye  army  siezed  ye  members  ...  It  is- 
not  to  be  told  ye  confusion  we  are  in,  ye  Lds  have  ad- 
journed for  a  weeke  ;  the  Commons  now  declare 
the  legislative  power  to  be  in  them  only.  I  pray 
God  send  peace  on  earth  &  write  all  or  names  in  ye 
booke  of  life.  Deare  Raph  I  am  thine  in  peace  or 
war.'  Jan.  11. — 'Alexander]  D[enton]'s  creditors 
.  .  .  see  there  is  nothinge  but  land  to  be  had,  &  they 
will  rather  venture  all  then  take  it,  soe  troublesome  & 
cumbersome  a  thinge  is  land  growne  now,  it  is  soe 
liable  to  quarter  &  taxes,  &  makes  one's  estate  soe 
visible  &  consequently  the  persons  more  liable  to 
sequestration,  for  it  is  almost  a  crime  to  have  an  estate 
in  these  days.  ...  I  doubt  before  this  come  to  you 
our  Kinge  will  be  defunct,  and  it  is  feared  the  sword 
will  govern  instead  of  the  crowne.'  Jan.  18. — '  The 
complexion  of  our  confusions  growes  every  day  more 
sad  &  black  then  other.  Ye  scaffolds  are  buildinge 
for  the  tryall  of  the  Kinge,  &  ye  terme  putt  of  for  20 
daies  for  that  very  reason.  It  is  almost  every  man's 
opinion  that  nothing  will  satisfie  but  his  head,  &  I 
am  clearly  of  ye  same  opinion  except  God  miracu- 


THE  END   OF  MANY   THINGS  AND  PEOPLE      397 

lously  divert  or  divide,  or  confound  councells.  Our 
divines  preach  generally  against  these  proceedings  & 
not  without  great  vehemence,  &  some  of  them  begin 
to  writt  against  them  alsoe.  Our  cavalier  Lds  have 
offered  to  ingage  life  &  fortune  for  ye  King's  per- 
formance of  whatever  he  shall  grant  of  their  demands. 
The  Scotch  have  mediated  &  declared  absolutely 
against  it,  yett  nothinge  will  doe,  they  are  resolved  of 
their  course  for  ought  I  can  find.' 

Even  Sir  Roger  Burgoyne,  strong  parliamentary 
enthusiast  as  he  was,  writes : '  I  could  be  content  to  be 
.a  monke  or  hermit,  rather  than  a  statesman  at  the 
present  conjunction  of  affairs.  .  .  .  What  will  become 
•of  us  in  England  God  only  knowes.  The  passages  of 
late  presage  the  saddest  of  times.' 

On  the  25th  Dr.  Denton  writes  again  :' ...  It  is 
now  the  dismallest  time  here  that  ever  our  eyes  be- 
held. Noe  mediation  by  Ministry,  Scottland,  Cava- 
liers, Lds,  or  of  any  body  else  .for  ought  I  can  heare, 
can  disswade  from  doinge  execucon  uppon  ye  kinge.  I 
heare  the  Queene  of  Bohemia  is  corninge  over  if  not 
landed,  her  son's  mediation  hath  not  yett  prevailed  any 
thinge,  &  I  doubt  hers  will  prevaile  as  little.  Ye 
confusions  &  distractions  are  every  where  soe  greate 
that  I  know  not  where  to  wish  my  selfe  but  in  Heaven. 
It  is  generally  beleeved  that  the  Scotts  will  once  again 
more  unanimously  come  in  againe,  but  if  they  doe  it 
is  thought  there  will  be  a  risinge  or  combustion  in 
every  country  of  ye  kingdome  at  once,  soe  generally 
are  people's  hearts  ag8*  these  proceedings.' 


398      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

The  execution  of  the  king  took  place  on  January 
the  30th.  Ralph  received  an  account  of  it  from  Mr 
Cockram,  an  English  merchant  at  Rouen.  '  I  doubt 
not  but  ear  this  you  have  heard  the  dolefull  news  of 
our  King's  death,  whoe  was  beheaded  laste  teusday 
was  seaven  night,  at  two  of  the  clock,  afternoone, 
before  Whitehall,  the  moste  barbarous  Ackt,  & 
lamentable  sight  that  ever  any  Christians  did  beholde. 
The  Numerous  guarde  of  horse  and  foote  of  Armed 
Tygers  did  binde  the  hands  and  stopp  the  mouths  of 
many  Thousand  beholders,  but  could  not  keepe  their 
eyes  from  weeping,  for  none  but  harts  of  flinte  could 
forbeare.  His  maiestie  appeared  uppon  the  scaffold 
with  admirable  constancie  noe  way  dismayed,  did 
make  a  very  worthy  speach  shewing  his  Innocency 
of  what  hee  was  accused  &  condemned  for ;  & 
yett  with  greate  charitie  did  freely  forgive  all  his 
enemies  in  rehearsing  the  example  of  S*  John.  And 
to  satisfy  the  people  concerninge  his  Religion  hee 
theare  declared  that  hee  dyed  a  trew  Christian  accord- 
ing to  the  open  profession  of  the  Church  of  England, 
as  it  was  lefte  by  the  deceased  king  his  father  :  And 
soe  with  sundry  expressions  of  piety  &  godly  ex- 
hortations hee  submitted  to  that  wofull  ende,  which 
makes  all  honest  menu's  harts  to  bleede  ;  And  is  a 
beginning  of  England's  greater  Miserie  than  ever  hath 
bin  hitherto.' 

Westminster  School  was  at  this  time  strongly 
Royalist,  and  amongst  the  boys  conspicuous  for  their 
devotion  to  the  king  were  the  Uvedales,  great  nephews 


THE  END   OF  MANY  THINGS  AND   PEOPLE      399 

of  Sir  Edmund  Verney's  old  friend,1  Sir  William 
Uvedale.  Unable  to  find  vent  for  their  loyalty  the  boys 
held  a  meeting  for  prayer  on  the  morning  of  Charles's 
execution ;  one  wishes  that  the  king  could  have 
known  the  touching  way  in  which  their  sympathy  was 
shown  him.  On  that  terrible  day  all  work  must  have 
been  suspended,  before  its  close  the  king  was  beyond 
the  need  of  earthly  comfort  ;  but  Robert  Uvedale's 
devotion  to  his  memory  was  to  be  shown  in  a  striking 
way  before  his  school-days  were  over.  A  dignitary 
of  the  church  who  was  a  Westminster  boy  when  this 
century  was  in  its  teens,  recalls  an  instance  of  a  very 
different  spirit.  The  boys  were  made  to  attend  the 
service  in  the  Abbey,  on  January  30,  to  commemorate 
'  "  the  Martyrdom  of  the  Blessed  King  Charles  the 
First,"  given  up  (as  upon  this  day)  to  the  violent 
outrages  of  wicked  men,  to  be  despitefully  used  &  at 
the  last  murdered  by  them,'  and  while  in  the  words 
of  the  Prayer-book  they  were  farther  exhorted  to  '  re- 
flect upon  so  foul  an  act  with  horror  &  astonishment/ 
the  boy  next  to  him,  Trelawney,  whose  ancestors 
had  stoutly  resisted  the  king  in  life,  was  muttering 
between  his  teeth — '  Bloody  tyrant,'  in  a  suppressed 
passion  of  indignation.  But  to  return  to  1649. 
Among  the  Duke  of  Portland's  MSS.  is  a  rough 
draft  of  the  report  to  the  House  of  Commons  of  the 
Committee  that  made  the  arrangements  for  the  king's 
burial,  read  on  February  8,  the  very  day  of  the 
funeral.  It  seemed  as  if  the  revulsion  of  public 

1  See  vol.  i.,  pp.  102,  313. 


400      VERNE Y  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

feeling  already  made  it  expedient  to  show  more 
outward  respect  to  the  dead  king  than  had  been 
granted  to  him  during  the  last  days  of  his  life,  and 
the  additions  and  corrections  made  to  the  original 
draft  point  in  the  same  direction.  The  king's  body 
is  to  be  removed  to  Windsor  '  on  a  Coach,  covered 
with  black,  with  six  horses  and  two  troops  of  horse 
for  a  guard e,  &  that  the  servants  of  the  ffamyly 
last  allowed  to  goe  thither  with  it,  keep  there  untill 
it  bee  buryed.  That  the  servants  attending  him 
since  hee  came  to  Windsor  bee  allowed  mourninge  ; 
for  the  furnishing  of  themselves  wherewith  ten 
pounds  a  peece  to  bee  allowed  them  that  were  in 
office  in  cheife,  &  the  Coachman  &  the  postilion  £5. 
That  Mr.  Harberte,  Mildmay,  Preston  &  Duckett 
have  mony  payd  into  theyre  hands  upon  ace*  to  bee 
issued  out  for  the  charges  of  the  buryall  and  mayn- 
tayninge  of  the  servants  with  diett  the  meane  while 
&  for  theire  horses.  That  the  summe  to  bee  payd 
into  their  hands  for  the  present  bee  400£,  out  of 
which  the  20£  a  peece  for  mourninge,  and  the 
5£  a  day  for  mayntenance  of  the  ffamily  to  bee  payd, 
.as  allsoe  the  past  charges  for  embalminge  &  un- 
loadinge  the  bodye,  &  the  blacks  bought  for  the 
scaffold  &  coffin  to  bee  payde  for,  and  the  future 
•charges  of  furnishing  out  the  Coach  &  providing 
torches  for  the  removeall  &  Buryall  bee  defrayed  as 
farre  as  it  will  goe. 

'  That  the  Coach  bee  covered  with  black    bayes 
•[baize]  against  munday  night  if  it  may  bee. 


THE  END  OF  MANY  THINGS  AND  PEOPLE   401 

'  That  it  bee  enquyred  where  his  Coach  horses  are 
kept,  &  order  taken  to  have  them  in  readynesse  & 
the  Coachman  in  mowrninge. 

'  That  the  Xumber  to  bee  allowed  with  the  D.  of 
Richmond  exceed  not  20,  with  3  servants  to  each 
nobleman  &  not  above  two  to  others,  &  desired  to 
give  in  a  list  of  theyre  names  &  servants  on  Wednes- 
day morninge  next,  &  to  have  notice  now  that  the 
bury  all  will  not  bee  before  fryday  next,  &  the  just 
time,  as  allsoe  the  place  hee  shall  know  on  Wednes- 
day morninge. 

*  The  Resolutions  to  bee  reported  to  the  house  on 
Wednesday  morning.'1 

There  are  no  letters  from  Sir  Roger  or  Dr.  Dentoii 
till  February  21,  when  their  silence  is  thus  accounted 
for  by  the  former  :  'The  newes  ....  of  most 
publique  concernement  I  am  confident  is  longe  since 
come  to  yor  eares  ;  as  the  kinge  beinge  executed  by 
Whitehall  yeisterday  being  3  weekes  since,  I  had  not 
failed  to  have  given  you  notice  of  it  the  same  weeke, 
but  that  the  Dr  would  not  suffer  me  to  send  the 
letter  I  had  written,  there  being  a  generall  stoppage 
of  all  letters.' 

The  next  day  Dr  Denton  writes  :  '  We  are  now 
in  the  maddest  world  that  ever  we  mortalls  sawe, 
and  have  great  reason  to  feare  we  doe  but  now  beoin 

o  o 

to  drinke  the  dreggs  of  our  bitter  cupp.  But  God  hath 
taught  us  that  if  we  see  violent  pervertinge  of  judg- 

1  Nalson  Collection  of  MSS.,  vol.  xv.  folio  311. 
VOL.  II.  D  D 


402      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

merit  in  a  citty  we  should  not  wonder,  and  though 
we  heare  of  wars  and  rumors  of  war  yett  wee  should 
not  wonder.' 

When  it  was  '  voted  a  capitall  crime  for  any  to 
speake,  preach,  or  write  against  the  present  proceed- 
ings,' it  would  seem  as  if  the  Despotism  was  as  fierce 
as  anything  recorded  in  English  history. 

The  king's  -behaviour  when  called  on  to  face 
death  had  won  the  respect  and  sympathy  of  many. 

He  nothing  common  did,  or  mean, 
Upon  that  memorable  scene. 

Mr.  Green  says  his  death  '  gave  fresh  vigour  to  the 
royalist  cause  ;  and  the  loyalty  which  it  revived 
was  stirred  to  enthusiasm  by  the  publication  of  the 
"  Eikon  Basilike  "  ....  which  was  believed  to  have 
been  composed  by  the  King  himself  in  his  later  hours 
of  captivity.'  Dr-  Denton  writes  :  '  If  I  am  not  dis- 
appointed you  shall  have  the  king's  booke.  It  hath 
beene  hitherto  at  8s.  and  10s.  price.  ...  It  hath 
beene  much  suppressed,  the  first  printer  and  impres- 
sion plundered  and  presses  broken.'  Again,  March  18  : 
*  The  king's  booke,  with  his  deportment,  indurance, 
att  his  try  all  and  on  the  scaffold,  hath  amazed  the 
whole  kingdome,  to  see  soe  much  courage,  Xstianity, 
and  meekness  in  one  man.  The  women  generally 
are  in  mourninge  for  him,  ye  men  dare  not,  only 
some  few.'  If  this  was  the  case  with  the  population 
in  London,  the  necessities  of  the  widowed  queen 
described  in  the  following  extract  must  have  been 
great  indeed.  It  is  from  a  letter  of  Sir  H.  Puckering 


THE   END   OF   MASY   THINGS   AND   PEOPLE       403 

Newton's,  written  from  Paris  on  April  4  :  '  I  find  a 
Court  heere  sadd  &  hugely  discomposed,  but  as  much 
for  want  of  money  as  for  anything  else ;  their 
poverty  must  needes  bee  very  much,  when  to  this 
houre  the  Qu  :  &  D.  of  Yorke's  footmen  &  many 
others  are  not  in  mourning.  I  have  kiss'd  all  their 
hands,  &  passed  a  whole  day  betweene  dukes  & 
civilitees.' 

The  recent  proceedings  of  the  English  were  not 
likely  to  bring  them  into  estimation  on  the  continent. 
John  Foss,  a  merchant  at  Nantes,  puts  into  a  post- 
script to  Ralph  :  '  Pray,  Sir,  writt  not  in  the  super- 
scription anglois,  ffor  thatt  nation  is  soe  much  in 
hatred,  thatt  he  cannott  pass  the  streets  in  sauftye.' 
Dr.  Kirton  writes  from  Paris  :  '  The  army  and 
Parlament  have  sett  out  a  manifest  to  lett  the  world 
know  why  they  have  kill'd  their  king  and  made 
themselves  a  Republicke.  It  is  two  sheetes  of  paper, 
and  to  be  turned  by  their  order  into  Latin,  French, 
and  Duch.  I  know  not  what  it  may  prove  in  other 
Tongues,  but  they  whoe  reade  it  in  English  find  it 
poore  stuffe.'  Monarchy  had  in  fact  been  abolished 
on  March  17,  but  perhaps  the  party  which  had  com- 
passed the  death  of  the  king  felt  some  difficulty  in 
deciding  on  the  next  step,  for  it  was  not  till  May  19 
that  an  Act  of  Parliament  was  passed  declaring 
'  that  the  People  of  England.  .  .  .  are  hereby  con- 
stituted, made,  established,  &  confirmed  to  be  a 
Commonwealth  and  Free  State,  &  shall  henceforth 
be  governed  as  a  Commonwealth  &  Free  State  by 

D  D  2 


404      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

the  supreme  authority  of  this  nation.  .  .  .  and  that 
without  any  King  or  House  of  Lords.' 

The  bad  news  of  public  affairs  in  England  must 
have  weighed  all  the  more  heavily  on  Ralph,  as  his 
wife's  health  caused  him  growing  anxiety.  Some 
months  after  her  return  to  France  she  fell  danger- 
ously ill  of  what  Ralph  calls  '  a  kind  of  apoplexiy 
or  Lethargy,'  in  which  she  lost  her  sight  for  a  time. 
She  recovered  from  this  illness  but  was  in  delicate 
health,  and  the  doctor  advised  her  drinking  the 
waters  at  Bourbon.  In  June  '49  they  spent  some 
weeks  there,  and  had  expected  to  have  the  company 
of  the  sprightly  Sir  Puckering  Newton,  who  wrote  to 
Ralph  that  he  was  anxious  to  '  returne  time  enough 
to  tipple  with  my  lady  at  Bourbon,  against  when  I 
have  resolved  for  so  much  water  that  I  promise  you 
to  deale  in  none  till  then,  not  thinking  it  an  element 
to  bee  us'd  that  way  except  phiscially.'  In  a  later 
letter  he  adds  :  '  I  am  growne  very  weary  of  good  veale 
and  wine  ;  my  mind  runnes  much  on  water,  therefore 
beleeve  me,  Sr,  I  sitt  in  thornes  untill  I  can  bee  a  man 
of  my  word  both  unto  you  and  my  lady.'  In  spite 
of  these  protestations,  however,  he  never  came,  and  in 
his  next  letter  it  appears  that  he  had  flown  over  to 
England. 

On  August  1  Dr.  Denton  expresses  his  satisfac- 
tion that  Mary  is  better,  and  hopes  that  she  need  re  turn 
no  more  to  Bourbon  :  '  it's  possible  to  have  a  surfeit 
of  water  as  well  as  wine.  Sir  Richard  Winn  hath 
mett  with  it,  not  to  the  life  but  to  the  death.  .  .  .' 


THE  END  OF  MANY  THINGS  AND  PEOPLE   405 

He  '  cannot  gett  a  booke  for  Landladie's  pallett' ;  the 
works  on  controversial  divinity  that  the  doctor  so 
zealously  recommended  may  well  have  been  heavy 
reading  after  the  baths  of  Bourbon  in  July.  They 
went  to  Paris  for  a  time,  and  then  Sir  Ralph  was 
anxious  to  take  his  wife  to  the  South.  '  Shee  should 
order  you  better,'  wrote  Dr.  Denton,  '  then  to  lett 
you  ramble  like  Tom  a  Bedlam  ten  leagues  beyond 
the  wide  world's  end.' 

Avignon,  he  heard,  was  visited  by  '  les  trois 
fleaux  de  Dieu' — famine,  pestilence,  and  the  sword — 
and  the  plague  was  also  at  Nismes,  but  he  hoped  to 
get  to  Montpellier.  Sir  Puckering  laughs  at  him  for 
his  roving  spirit  ;  he  says  he  has  received  his  last 
letter,  '  but  where  he  is  that  sent  it  the  Lord  knowes  ; 
pray  God  hee  bee  in  an  honest  place,  since  he  dares  not 
oune  it.  ...  I  perceive  you  do  wander  and  rove  up 
and  doune,  one  knowes  not  where  to  have  you.  You 
would  faine  lay  the  cause  upon  my  good  ladie's 
water  drinking,  but  'tis  your  owne  good  will  to  the 
frontinaick  which  your  Godfather  K.  James  infused 
into  you  &  you  are  wild  after,  makes  you  run  such 
madd  journeys  as  Montpellier.  .  .  .  Pray  God  you 
return  to  Blois  when  they  heare  of  your  tippling 
they  doe  not  shutt  the  gates  against  you — you  know 
they  are  ticklish  men  of  the  guard — but  I  hope  by 
my  sober  carriage  &  example  there  ...  to  work  so 
on  you  &  the  people,  that  you  may  be  both  reclamed 
&  admitted  again.  But  (without  fooling)  I  am 
.seriously  sorry  you  goe  so  farr  off,  .  .  .  my  purse 


406      VERNEY   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

is  too  light  &  my  cloak  bag  too  heavy  to  follow 
you.7 

He  will  have  no  heart  to  come  to  Blois  if  they 
are  both  gone.  Mary  had  been  shopping  in  Paris 
for  Mrs.  Sherard,  &  Ralph  writes  to  her  that  '  my 
wife  »  .  .  hath  ventured  to  present  you  with  a  paire 
of  French  trirned  gloves,  a  Fan,  a  paire  of  Tweezes  & 
an  enamiled  Box  with  patches  ;  I  blush  at  her  bold- 
nesse  but  more  at  my  own  Folly,  for  suffering  of 
her,  but  you  know  she  weares  the  Breeches  &  will 
doe  what  she  list.' 

The  correspondence  about  the  sisters'  fortunes 
in  the  Alnage  and  about  their  creditors  still  con- 
tinues, and  in  addition  to  these  anxieties  Brother 
Tom  is  behaving  even  worse  than  usual.  In  the 
summer  of  '48  he  turned  up  in  Paris  in  a  state  of 
destitution,  having,  as  he  said,  been  '  taken  prisoner 
as  a  spye  for  the  Spaniard.'  Ralph  sent  him  money, 
but  of  course  he  begged  for  more :  '  only  this  lett  mee 
tell  you,  I  carry  all  that  I  have  on  my  back  ;  I  have 
noe  linnen  at  all  to  shift  mee  and  noe  stockins  to 
weare,  nor  sword  nor  cloak.  .  .  .  Though  I  have 
willfully  run  into  this  folly  yet  I  would  intreat  you 
not  to  suffer  mee  to  be  lousy  ;  which  in  earnest  I 
must  unless  I  am  timely  relieved  by  you.'  To  this 
Ralph  replies  that  until  he  leaves  '  these  courses  '  he 
cannot  expect  his  condition  will  improve,  but  he 
arranges  to  give  him  31.  on  his  return  to  England 
over  and  above  the  Michaelmas  quarterage,  which  of 
course  he  has  anticipated. 


THE  END  OF  MANY  THINGS  AND  PEOPLE   407 

Tom,  however,  chooses  to  remain  in  France,  and 
the  next  that  was  heard  of  him  was  his  forging* 
Brother  Elmes's  name  to  a  bill  (as  mentioned  in  a 
former  chapter).  He  is  in  hiding  and  in  terror  of 
his  life,  and  writes  to  beg  for  more  money  from 
Ralph  to  discharge  his  debt  for  lodgings,  which 
would  free  him  to  escape  to  England.  He  complains 
bitterly  of  Elmes  :  '  It  is  malitiously  &  most  unnatu- 
really  done  of  him  to  prosecute  mee  to  death  :  .  .  . 
in  England  it  is  only  a  pillory  matter.  I  shall  peti- 
tion the  queen  of  England  to  take  my  brother  off,  if 
I  can  but  get  anyone  to  draw  a  petition  for  mee,  for  in 
earnest  I  have  not  now  the  understanding  of  a  child, 
my  afflictions  have  soe  besotted  mee  ;  formerly  I 
never  had  much,  but  what  capacity  I  ever  had  is  now 
quite  lost.' 

In  a  later  letter  he  says  that  his  informers  mis- 
took Elmes  (who  seems  to  have  treated  him  with 
forbearance)  ;  '  it  is  the  banquier  [who  payed  the 
money  on  the  forged  bill]  that  seeks  after  mee  .  .  . 
vowes  to  have  his  money  or  my  life.'  He  dares  not 
return  by  way  of  Rye  :  '  I  am  soe  well  knowe  att 
Diap  and  att  Calais  that  when  I  am  out  of  paris  I 
must  make  chois  of  a  port  where  I  never  yet  was  for 
my  passage  home.  ...  I  have  run  into  a  great  error. 
It  is  too  late  to  recall  what  I  have  done,  but  it  is  not 
too  late  to  repent.  .  .  .  My  dayly  study  now  is  to 
serve  God,  and  to  avoid  the  banquier  apprehending 
mee.'  Ralph  clears  him  of  debt  and  renews  his  pro- 
mise of  31.  when  he  should  reach  England.  But  in 


408      VERNE Y  FAMILY   DURING  THE   CIVIL   WAR 

spite  of  protestations  that  he  would  depart  instantly, 
the  scapegrace  stayed  on,  accumulating  fresh  debts, 
till  finally,  as  he  describes  to  a  friend,  he  is  '  forced 
to  lye  in  bed,  being  destitute  of  bootes  and  stockings.' 
When  at  length  he  returned  to  England  his  conduct 
was  not  more  satisfactory,  and  Ralph  wrote  that  '  he 
follows  his  old  tricks  still.'  For  a  time  he  appeared 
'  clinquant  &  in  wonderful  equipage  both  for  cloathes 
and  money,'  but  it  was  only  due  to  what  he 
'  threatened '  out  of  his  aunt  Ursula  (and  probably 
from  unworthy  gains  as  a  spy),  &  then  came  the 
usual  da  capo — prison  and  pious,  penitent  letters, 
of  which  on  this  occasion  Dr.  Denton  writes  :  '  to 
see  now  his  letters  you  would  thinke  him  a  St.  or 
a  preacher  at  least.  He  goes  far  that  never  turnes. 
God  can  doe  much.  Paul  persecuted  till  he  could 
noe  longer  kick  against  the  pricks.' 

But  no  miracle  of  reformation  was  to  change 
Tom's  wretched  career.  In  July  the  Doctor  is  un- 
happy and  anxious  when  their  letters  miscarry, 
'  especially  seeinge  Tom  is  growne  the  arrantest 
informer.  .  .  .  Direct  future  letters  to  Mr.  Gape 
[the  worthy  apothecary  at  whose  wedding  feast  Mary 
had  lately  assisted],  at  the  Man  in  the  Moon,  King 
St.  Westminster.' 

Henry  was  also  the  cause  of  much  distress  to 
Ralph,  but  owing  to  the  breach  between  them,  there 
are  no  letters  from  him  during  this  period  to  show 
what  he  was  doing.  Dr.  Denton,  writing  of  the 
dangerous  state  of  the  country  in  July  '48,  says  : 


THE   END   OF   MANY   THINGS   AND   PEOPLE      409 

'  Harry,  as  he  was  only  walkinge  in  the  grounds  had 
.a  pistoll  pointed  to  his  breast,  &  if  he  had  not  by 
chance  known  ye  captaine  that  did  it  &  soe  space 
[?  spake]  right,  noe  excuse  had  served  his  turne  but 
to  the  pott  he  had  gone,  &  I  doubt  it  will  be  his 
end,  for  I  feare  he  hath  to  much  blood  uppon 
him.'  A  few  months  later  he  says  :  '  Harry  lives 
like  ye  wanderinge  jew,  but  mostly  I  believe  at  the 
widdowe's.'  Occasionally  he  is  mentioned  as  visiting 
his  sisters.  In  May  '49  Dr.  Denton  writes  :  '  Harry 
hath  gold  in  both  pocketts,  &  gave  Betty  10s. '  ;  and 
on  another  occasion  when  he  was  much  pleased  with 
her  he  is  ;  very  fierce  to  give  her  a  goune,'  if  his 
•uncle  would  furnish  her  with  a  guitar.  But  the 
conclusion  of  the  matter  was  not  very  satisfactory, 
as  he  ended  with  'tryeing  to  get  the  money  for  the 
gown  out  of  Roads ! '  And  Dr.  Denton  says  that 
he  must  '  leave  Harry  &  Will  to  tugge  for  the 
payment.' 

This  is  the  last  we  hear  of  him  for  a  long  time. 
On  September  7  Dr.  Denton  writes  from  Oxford  : 
'  Two  daies  since  the  souldiers  of  this  garrison  dis- 
carded their  officers  &  are  all  turned  levellers,  &  it  is 
thought  most  of  the  regiments  of  the  army  are  of  the 
same  mould.  .  .  .'  Sir  Roger  writes  on  the  13th: 
'  The  Levellers  have  begun  to  play  some  more  prankes 
about  Oxford,  but  it  is  hoped  that  they  will  sud- 
denly be  quasht,  although  some  much  doubt  it ;  it  is 
pitty  that  souldiers  formerly  so  unanimous  in  the 
•  cause  of  God,  should  now  begin  to  clash  one  with 


410      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

another,  but  it  is  verily  thought  that  there  are  some 
knaves  amongst  them  which  I  hope  God  will  one  day 
discover.  They  talke  much  of  the  Kinge  of  Scot- 
lande  having  the  better  upon  the  seas,  &  that 
Ormonde  hath  beaten  Ld.  gen.  Crumwell  since  his 
coming  over,  the  rather  because  he  hath  sent  over 
for  fresh  supplies  .  .  .  but  I  presume  you  are  too 
discreet  to  bestow  your  beliefe  upon  any  fabulous 
report.'  However  incredulous  about  political  news, 
Sir  Roger  seems  to  have  no  doubt  about  another 
story  he  sends  to  his  friend  :  '  Great  store  of  crown 
crabs  were  taken  in  Cornwall  among  their  pilchards,' 
four  of  them  were  sent  from  Plymouth  to  London  ; 
they  were  '  as  bigg  as  halfe  crownes,  have  shells  like 
crabbs,  feet  like  ducks,  faces  like  men,  &  crownes 
on  their  heads,  theire  faces  &  crownes  seem  as  if  they 
were  carved  upon  their  shells.' 

Mary  was  getting  gradually  worse,  but  many 
merry  messages  still  pass  between  her  and  the  good 
Doctor,  sent  and  received  by  Ralph.  '  You  must 
needs  send  landlady  over  in  wonderfull  post  hast  to 
me,  for  I  hear  her  old  prosecutors  the  Hydes  are 
makinge  enquiry  after  me,  &  except  she  come  to  out 
scold  them,  I  must  goe  to  Billingsgate  and  I  doubt  I 
shall  not  match  them  nor  her  there.  I  thinkelmumpt 
her  there ! '  The  Doctor  has  at  last  succeeded  in  letting 
their  London  house  for  651.  '  for  this  next  yeare 
to  the  Countesse  of  Downe.'  He  has  been  so  busy 
about  their  affairs  that  he  has  quite  neglected  his 
own.  '  My  absence  hath  so  routed  my  business  that 


THE   END   OF   MANY   THINGS   AND   PEOPLE      411 

I  am  like  a  crowe  in  a  mist,  or  rather  like  an  owl  at 
noon.'  He  attacks  Mary  again,  who  had  sent  him 
some  commissions  to  do  for  her.  Oct.  15,  '49. — '  She 
is  a  lyinge  slutt  ...  for  I  doe  not  or  will  not 
remember  that  ever  she  writt  to  me  for  nuttmeggs  ; 
how  ever,  tell  her  she  shall  neyther  have  nuttmeggs 
nor  stockins,  nor  meat  neither  by  my  good  will,  nor 
money  which  is  worse,  nor  anythinge  but  druggs  till 
she  write  her  longe — longe — longe  promised  letter.' 

Sir  Puckering  Newton,  meaning  to  bring  his  wife 
to  Blois,  writes  to  ask  what  Lady  Verney  would 
advise,  as  an  '  old  housekeeper  in  France,'  for  the 
ordering  of  their  affairs,  and  '  what  stuffe  or  what 
cattle '  to  bring  out.  Ralph  replies  that  his  wife  is 
very  angry  at  being  called  old  housekeeper,  '  had  you 
called  her  old  woeman  she  would  never  have  forgiven 
you  such  an  injurie.  You  know  a  woeman  can  never 
bee  old  (at  least  not  willingly,  nor  in  her  owne 
oppinion)  ;  did  you  dread  her  displeasure  but  halfe 
soe  much  as  I  doe,  beeleeve  me  you  would  run  post 
heather  to  make  your  peace.' 

They  have  a  sick  friend,  Lord  Alington,  at  Tours, 
whom  they  greatly  desire  to  have  with  them  to  nurse 
him,  but  his  man  writes  that  though  he  greatly 
desires  the  good  air  and  good  company  now  in  Blois, 
yet  '  my  Lord  makes  little  use,  nor  will  doe  these  15 
dayes,  of  any  ayre  save  that  of  a  good  fire  [it  is  the 
beginning  of  November]  ;  but  what  .  .  .  stays  my 
Lord  heere,  is,  that  should  we  runne  through  all 
France  a  more  warme  convenient  chamber  ;  a  quietter 


412      VERNE Y   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

house  ;  a  neatter  woeman,  &  good  meate  better  drest 
were  not  to  be  found  by  us.  The  woeman  is  so 
excellent  in  making  jellies,  hartening  brothes  &  all 
other  things  necessary  for  a  person  that  is  sicke, 
that  my  Ld  could  not  be  better  in  his  owne  house 
at  Horse  Heath.'  Later  on  Lord  Alington  begs  for 
the  loan  of  '  the  King's  booke  in  English  ;  his  Lpp 
hath  it  in  French,  but  desireth  much  to  reade  it 
in  the  King's  owne  tearmes.'  No  doubt  as  to  the 
authenticity  of  the  '  Icon  Basilicas,'  appears  in  the 
letters. 

After  weeks  of  suspense  about  Edmund,  they 
receive  towards  the  end  of  November  the  terrible 
news  of  his  death  and  of  the  massacre  at  Drogheda. 

There  are  some  pathetic  letters  from  Doll  Leeke 
about  her  own  and  Mary's  sorrow  ;  she  says  she  has 
now  lost  every  one  belonging  to  her  who  was  engaged 
in  the  Civil  War.  She  speaks  of  Edmund  as  '  our 
dear  Companion  &  faithfull  friend.  I  cannot  express 
how  unhappy  I  am,  but  I  will  leve  you  to  ges  by 
your  self  who  I  know  had  an  intire  affection  for  him.' 
Sir  Ralph  writes  constantly  that  his  wife  is  better, 
and  Dr.  Denton  is  planning  how  '  she  should  be  bled 
after  Xmas,  &  in  March  enter  into  a  steele  diett,'  but 
she  was  getting  beyond  the  reach  of  his  affectionate 
care  and  his  terrible  remedies. 

On  Dec.  13  Sir  Ralph  wrote  to  a  neighbour,  Mr. 
Hatcher :  '  I  was  such  a  blockhead  that  I  forgot  to 
tell  you  that  on  Satterday  next  (my  wife  being  ill)  a 
friend  will  give  us  a  sermon  &  the  Sacrament  (after 


THE  EXD   OF  MANY  THINGS  AND  PEOPLE      41  & 

the  honest  old  way  at  home)  &  if  either  yourselfe  or 
son  please  to  communicate  with  us  you  shall  bee  very 
welcome.'     Dr.  Denton  had  written :  '  I  doubt  my 
poore  landlady  will  have  febrem  lentam  wch  may  in 
time  consume  her,'  but,  although  not  known  till  after 
her  death,  it  was  a  disease  of  the  lungs  that  was  killing 
her.     The  move  to  Montpellier  had  been  given  up, 
as  the  small- pox  was  prevalent  there  ;  and  although 
when  the  spring  came  on,  the  journey  was    again 
talked  of,  she  was  by  that  time  too  ill  to  attempt  it. 
And  it  seems  strange  that  Ralph  should  have  thought 
poor  Mary  fit  for  it.     Apparently  he  could  not  take 
in  the  possibility  of  death  for  her ;    they  had  been 
together,    for   better  for   worse,  in   sickness    and  in 
health,   in  poverty  and  in  riches  ;    there  had  never 
been  a  cloud  between  them,  she  had  stood  by  him  on 
all  the  difficult  occasions  when  there  was  risk  to  be 
run,  and  dangers  and  penury  to  face,  and  above  all, 
that  which  is  most  difficult  to  bear,  the  doubt  whether  a 
course  which  you  take  against  the  wishes  and  advice 
of  all  your  friends,  is  really  the  wisest.     Whatever 
might  have  been  her  private  opinion,  she  had  never 
faltered  for  a  moment.     But  the  burden  had  been  too 
heavy   for   her   sweet,  loving,    delicate   nature,   and 
now,  at  the  early  age  of  34,  she  sank  under  it.     Dr.. 
Denton,  so  tenderly  attached  to  his  niece,  had  written 
continually  about  her  health  and  his  fears  for  her,, 
but  when  the  blow  fell  Ralph  seemed  thunderstruck. 
He  wrote  but  one  line  to  his  uncle,  telling  him  of  the 
fact ;    he,  the  long-winded,  the   prolix  explainer  in 


414      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

everything,  could  not  find  a  single  word.  It  is  the 
•old,  old  story  of  Love's  sorrow  and  Love's  self- 
reproach,  and  Lowell's  lament  for  his  wife  might 
have  been  written  by  Ralph  about  Mary  : 

How  was  I  worthy  so  divine  a  loss, 

Deepening  my  midnights,  kindling  all  my  morns  ? 

Why  waste  such  precious  wood  to  make  my  cross, 
Such  far-sought  roses  for  my  crown  of  thorns  1 

And  when  she  came  how  earned  I  such  a  gift  ? 

Why  spent  on  me,  a  poor  earth-delving  mole, 
The  fireside  sweetnesses,  the  heavenward  lift, 

The  hourly  mercy  of  a  woman's  soul  ? 

In  Sir  Ralph's  calendar  of  letters  addressed  to  Dr. 
Denton  are  the  following  entries  : 

1  '  l-/  May  1650.  I  writ  Dr.  word  I  received  his 
letter,  but  could  write  of  no  businesse,  Wife  beeing 
soe  ill.' 

'  f|  May  1650.     Oh  my  my  deare  deare.' 

<-f-f  May  1650.  Friday  the  fir  May  (at  3  in  ye 
morning)  was  the  Fatall  day  &  Hower.  The  disease 
a  consumption.  ...  I  shall  not  need  to  relate  with 
what  a  Religeous  and  a  cheerful  joy  &  courage  this 
now  happy  &  most  glorious  saint,  left  this  unhappy 
•&  most  wicked  world.  ...  I  intreate  you  presently 
to  pay  one  Mr.  Preswell  (a  silke  man  in  Paternoster 
Row)  about  forty  shillings,  which  hee  said  she  owed 
for  something  taken  upp  there,  though  she  could  never 
call  it  to  her  remembrance.  Besides  the  legacies 
.  .  .  she  appointed  Tenn  pounds  to  bee  payed  to  the 

1  The  double  dates  mark  the  difference  of  ten  days  between  the 
English  and  French  reckoning. 


c  A/l 


a,    'f.',L  fn 


THE  END   OF  MANY  THINGS  AND  PEOPLE      415 

stock  of  the  Poore  of  Claydon,  and  Three  pounds  to 
Mr.  Joyce  the  Minister,  and  Twenty  pounds  unto 
yourselfe,  which  she  desired  you  to  accept  as  a  Testi- 
mony of  her  most  unfeigned  Love  &  affection,  and 
with  this  earnest  request,  that  for  her  sake  you  would 
perpetuate  your  friendshipp,  care,  &  kindnesse  both 
to  mee  and  mine.  I  pray  pay  Mr.  Joyce  &  give 
•order  to  W.  R.  to  pay  the  Poore  &  your  selfe  with  the 
first  money.  As  for  Mourninge  I  shall  only  desire 
you  presently  to  take  upp  your  owne,  &  also  such 
others  as  you  (by  the  customes  now  used  in  England, 
by  persons  of  my  Estate  &  Condition)  thinke  fit  & 
necessary  to  bee  given  for  the  Best  of  Wifes.  .  .  . 
The  greate  &  sad  afflictions  now  uppon  me,  make  me 
utterly  unable  to  think  how  I  had  best  dispose  of 
myselfe  &  children,  therefore  besides  your  prayers  for 
our  comfort  &  direction,  bee  pleased  to  send  your 
advise  at  large;  to  your  perplexed,  distressed  &  most 
afflicted  servant.'  He  also  notes  'that  M.  Cordellhas 
this  day  sent  the  Dr.  the  relation  at  large  of  her 
deportment  in  her  sicknesse  &  at  her  death,  in  6 
sheets  of  paper.'  Two  days  later  comes  a  deed  for 
Mary  to  sign,  '  also  a  letter  from  the  Dr.  to  her.' 

There  is  a  painful  paper  a  fortnight  after  her 
death,  addressed  by  Ralph  to  Dr.  Denton,  examining 
himself  as  to  what  wrong  deeds  of  his  can  have 
deserved  such  fearful  punishment  :  '  having  now 
passed  neare  40  yeares  of  my  pilgrimage,  &  had  my 
share  both  of  publique  &  private  afflictions,  &  even 
at  this  very  instant  groaning  under  the  weight  of  the 


416      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING    THE   CIVIL   WAR 

greatest  greife  that  ever  yet  befell  me  ;  'tis  high  time 
to  search  out  what  iniquities  have  separated  me  & 
my  god  ;  and  what  sinns  have  made  him  take  away 
good  things  from  me.'  '  You  know  I  have  now 
beene  neare  seaven  yeares  abroad,  within  wch  time 
(and  a  little  before)  my  good  and  carefull  parents,  2 
parts  of  3  of  my  innocent  children,  and  my  best 
beloved  Brother,  were  taken  from  me  ;  soe  that  I  had 
neither  Father,  Mother,  Daughter  nor  kinde  Brother 
to  assist  me  in  this  unhappy  Exile.  And  yet  I 
thanke  my  God  I  was  not  quite  forsaken,  for  hee  was 
pleased  to  raise  upp  you  to  bee  my  true  and  faithfull 
friende  in  England,  and  in  a  very  plentiful!  measure 
to  supply  all  other  defects  by  the  vertue  and  affection 
of  my  Wife,  who  was  not  only  willing  to  suffer  for 
and  with  mee  heere,  but  by  her  most  exemplary 
goodnesse  and  patience  both  help'd  and  taught  me 
to  support  my  otherwise  almost  insupportable  Burden. 
But  alas,  what  shall  I  now  doe!  for  she  being  too 
good  to  bee  kept  any  longer  from  her  heavenly  rest, 
&  I  being  too  unworthy  the  continuance  of  soe  greate 
a  Blessing,  am  now  deprived  of  her,  and  (as  if  her 
crowne  had  encreased  my  cares)  her  re  ward  is  become 
my  punishment.  What  course  shall  I  take  to  re- 
concile my  selfe  unto  my  Maker,  &  devert  the  Dreggs 
of  his  Fury  from  mee  ?  he  hath  covered  mee  with 
ashes,  filled  mee  with  Bitternesse  £  made  mee 
drunken  with  wormwood,  &  yet  I  must  needes 
confesse  the  Lord  is  just  &  righteous,  for  I  have 
rebelled  against  all  his  commandements.  .  .  .  Being 


THE   END   OF  MANY  THINGS  AND  PEOPLE      417 

this  day  to  receive  ye  Sacrement,  (ye  better  to  fit  me 
for  it)  I  lately  made  a  Review  of  my  life,  wherein 
though  I  found  enough  to  make  mine  Eyes  Run 
downe  with  Rivers  of  Water,  yet  least  the  love  to 
myselfe  or  sinns  cause  mee  to  bee  partiall  unto 
either,  I  must  beeseech  &  conjure  you  (who  know 
more  of  me  £  my  actions  then  any  creature  liveing) 
...  to  tell  mee  plainly  wherein  you  have  observed 
me  to  bee  faulty,  &  espetially  whether  any  man  hath 
or  is  like  to  suffer  unjustly  either  by  or  for  mee.' 

The  '  Review '  contains  a  long  and,  painfully 
elaborate  examination  into  past  money  transactions 
with  tenants  and  others,  setting  forth  the  reasons  and 
the  rules  by  which  he  was  guided  and  his  readiness 
to  make  restitution  if  the  Doctor  thinks  he  was 
to  blame  ;  '  the  pane  taken  out  of  Radcliffe  Church 
window '  years  before,  a  boyish  piece  of  mischief, 
and  rather  a  hard  bargain  about  Newman's  cow.  are 
all  enumerated  in  his  morbid  conscientiousness  at  this 
time  of  overwhelming  sorrow.  Even  a  poor  little 
unpaid  bill  of  40s.  to  a  brewer  in  London  weighs  on 
his  mind,  although,  as  he  says,  he  sent  'neare  20 
times  unto  him  to  fetch  his  money  but  he  came  not,' 
and  he  is  the  more  sorry  as  he  knows  neither  his 
name  nor  dwelling.  His  trouble  ;s ,  much  increased 
by  the  death  of  his  good  friend  M.  Testard  the 
minister,  which  he  announces  in  a  postscript.  The 
Doctor's  reply  is  a  long,  affectionate  letter ;  he  be- 
gins by  deprecating  Ralph's  choosing  him  for  a 
confessor  : 

VOL.  II.  E  E 


418      VEENEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

'  It  seems  I  cozened  yu  wn  I  turned  a  scurvy 
sollicitour,  &  yu  have  cozened  me  in  takinge  me  to 
be  a  Confessor  &  casuist.  I  confesse  the  Apostle's 
prcept  (viz.,  confesse  yr  sinns  one  to  another)  I 
thinke  ought  not  to  be  monopolized  by  the  priests 
only,  but  everyone  is  left  at  libertie  to  whom  to  doe 
it ;  but  wherefor  to  me,  who  .  .  .  have  swallowed 
downe  soe  many  &  mighty  sinns  wthout  remorse  or 
acknowledgm*  that  I  cannot  but  thinke  these  of  yours 
Peccadilloes.  Oh  that  my  soule  were  guiltie  of  noe 
higher !  .  .  .  I  evr  had  an  affection  for  yu  as  a  kins- 
man &  a  Ver[ney],  but  especially  uppon  the  hopes 
that  we  are  heires  togeather  of  salvation,  wch  to  me  is 
above  all  obligacons  or  relations  whatsoever,  of  wch 
though  I  nevr  doubted  .  .  .  yet  these  letters  are  more 
evidence  &  assurance  to  me  of  it.  ...  Seeinge  yu 
have  given  me  the  freedome  of  discovery  of  what  I 
know  by  yu,  I  shall  intimate  one  thinge  to  y"  as  freely 
now  as  formerly  I  have  done,  even,  soe  longe  agoe  as 
when  we  were  Academians,  wch  is  that  yu  have 
beene  ever  (even  by  most  of  those  who  thought  they 
knew  yu  best)  thought  to  take  pett  upon  very  small 
occasions  ag8t  many,  &  then  very  hardly  reconcileable, 
wch  hath  beene  used  as  an  argum*  to  me  as  inconsis- 
tent wth  love.  .  .  .  I  must  confesse  I  tremble  to  have 
difference  wth  those  who  I  conceave  to  be  heirs  of 
life  wth  me,  to  thinke  that  we  shall  have  united  harts 
in  Heaven  &  not  soe  on  earth.  I  know  great  differ- 
ences have  beene  &  will  be  even  amongst  the  best, 
but  I  hope  God  in  his  Due  time  will  find  out  a  way 


THE  END   OF  MANY   THINGS   AND  PEOPLE      419 

to  unite  &  reconcile  his  owne  togeather  (though  nev* 
at  a  greater  distance  in  the  generall  in  this  kingdome 
then  now)  as  to  the  publiq  cause  soe  alsoe  to  yu  & 
any  particulars.'  He  then  names  four  people  with 
whom  he  seeks  to  reconcile  Ralph — Aunt  Isham, 
'Ned  if.,'  'the  parson'  [Mr.  Aris,  at  Claydon],  and 
his  brother  Henry.  Of  the  first  three,  '  Jf  I  under- 
stand them  aright  they  are  as  much  yr  frends  as  I 
am.  .  .  .  Harry,  though  I  thinke  him  unhappy,  & 
not  to  be  compared  with  them — noe,  nor  wth  him 
that  is  nott  [Edmund]  yett  I  thinke  he  is  putt  to  his 
shifts  to  live,  wch  makes  him  doe  more  unhandsome 
thinges  then  otherwaies  he  would  doe,  &  his  choler 
transport  him  many  times  beyond  the  naturall  bias 
of  his  heart  .  .  .  yet  he  is  yr  Brother  still,  in  whom 
I  thinke  you  may  have  comfort  still,  &  happily  by 
your  conversation  (were  yu  here)  might  be  wonne  to 
a  more  righteous  course.  .  .  .  If  he  doe  [write]  I 
shall  say  noe  more  then  remember  that  short  petition, 
forgive  us  or  trespasses  as  we  forgive  them  that 
trespass  agst  us.'  Ralph  receives  his  uncle's  cor- 
rection with  perfect  sweetness  :  '  Dr,  you  are  a  right 
peace-maker,  &  cannot  misse  of  the  reward,  for  you 
doe  not  only  endeavour  to  preserve  peace  where  it  is, 
but  to  restore  it  where  it  is  lost.  ...  I  doubt  I  am 
too  guilty  of  ...  beeing  very  hardly,  reconcile- 
able  .  .  .  wherfore  I  often  strive  agst  it  in  my 
praiers,  saying,  ...  0  thou  who  hast  comanded 
me  to  overcome  evil  with  good,  and  to  pray  for  them 
that  despightfully  use  me ;  Bee  mercifull  to  myne 

£  E  2 


VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 

enemies,  0  Lord,  as  to  myselfe.  Turne  thou  my 
hart  towards  them  &  theirs  towards  mee,'  &c. 

But  Brother  Harry's  unkindness  had  evidently 
cut  so  deep  that  he  can  only  say  :  '  for  Harry,  whose 
Tongue  &  Pen,  not  only  on  a  sudden,  but  also  after 
long  deliberation,  hath  beene  noe  lesse  bitter  then 
unjust  against  me  (though  I  am  bound  to  forgive 
liim  as  I  thanke  God  I  doe),  yet  under  your  favour  I 
am  noe  more  obleiged  to  contineu  an  old,  or  enter 
into  a  new  strict  league  £  friendshipp  with  him  then 
to  trust  a  man  that  by  all  the  waies  &  meanes  hee 
can  hath  endeavoured  to  deprive  me  of  my  life,  or 
(wch  is  farre  more  precious)  my  good  name.'  The 
letter  ends  with  a  touching  reference  to  his  loss. 
1  But  what !  have  I  writt  thus  farre  of  my  paper 
•without  soe  much  as  mentioning  of  her  that  alwaies 
lived,  &  lately  died  in  peace,  &  now  is  reigning  with 
.the  prince  of  peace?  , Alas,  Alas,  Deare  Dr,  tis  not 
that  I  have  forgot  (or,  indeed,  ever  can  forget),  the 
most  irreparable  Losse  of  that  incomparable  creature, 
but  following  your  precepts  I  search  &  seeke  &  pray 
for  patience,  as  for  ye  only  remedy  that  Heaven,  as 
well  as  necessity,  hath  ordained  for  your  most  afflicted 
friend  &  servant.' 

He  was  quite  determined  that  at  all  events  nothing 
.so  precious  to  him  as  his  wife's  body  should  remain 
in  France,  and  he  immediately  had  it  embalmed ;  but 
there  were  many  difficulties  in  ..the  way  of  getting  it 
carried  to  England,  and  he  dared  not  send  it  '  uppon 
uncertaine  termes  :  least  ....  it  should  bee  tossed 


THE  END   OF  MANY  THINGS  AND  PEOPLE      421 

and  tumbled  from  Place  to  Place,  and  being  discovered 
....  run  ye  hazard  of  some  affront.'  For  months 
it  remained  in  Ralph's  house  at  Blois,  and  he  wrote  : 
'  though  it  bee  locked  upp  in  a  Roome  by  itselfe  where 
noebody  comes,  yet  you  must  needes  thinke  it  noe 
small  affliction  to  me  to  have  it  soe  neare  mee.  You 
know  when  Sarah  died  Abraham  made  hast  to  bury 
the  dead  out  of  his  sight.' 

He  wrote  to  Dr.  Denton  :  '  I  have  been  shrewdly 
put  to  it  in  a  way  you  little  dreame  off,  for  by  y8 
Lawes  of  France  the  king  is  the  heire  to  all  strangers, 
&  (the  wife  by  custome  being  intituled  to  on  halfe) 
a  projecting  favorite  Begged  &  obteined  this  Droict 
d'  Aubaine  (that  is,  ye  succession  of  all  my  Wife's 
estate  in  France,  she  dying  heere  without  naturalized 
or  French  borne  issue),  ....  but  by  the  Blessing 
of  God  uppon  a  good  friend's  endeavour,  there  was  a 
stopp  put  upon  the  graunt  before  the  compleat  expe- 
dition &  sealing.  (Oh,  oh  that  it  had  pleased  the 
Almighty  that  his  decree  to  deprive  me  of  my  deare, 
discreet,  &  most  incomparable  Wife,  were  but  as  easily 
revoakable).  What  Further  charge  this  cunning 
Catchpole  may  bring  uppon  me,  I  cannot  yet  foresee, 
but  I  have  taken  what  care  I  can  to  prevent  his  plots, 
&  privately  disposed  the  best  of  my  goods,  &  sent 
my  coach  &  horses  about  40  miles  off  (to  a  French 
freind's  house)  where  I  shall  (even  uppon  any  Termes) 
endeavour  to  have  them  sould.  What  a  losse  this  is, 
what  an  expence  this  puts  me  to,  what  gratifications 
of  freinds  will  bee  expected  and  must  bee  performed, 


422      VERKEY   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

you  cannot  easily  imagen.  Oh  that  the  God  of  Gods 
were  pleased  to  make  the  unspeakable  losse  of  my 
most  vertuous  wife  as  easily  reparable  and  as  little 
damageable.' 

The  reality  of  Ralph's  grief  for  the  loss  of  his 
wife  was  shown  by  his  life-long  widowhood  and  his 
undying  remembrance  of  her  throughout  the  suc- 
ceeding forty- six  years.  Her  sweet  and  noble  cha- 
racter was  indeed  worthy  of  his  devotion,  and  the 
references  to  her  in  his  letters  are  as  true  as  they  are 
touching. 

'  You  may  put  upp  a  greate  escutcheon  at  Claydon,' 
he  writes,  '  if  you  please,  before  the  Corps  comes  ;  faile 
not  of  anything  that  is  fit  for  soe  unparalleled  a  crea- 
ture ;  her  armes  are  in  the  Herald's  office  &  will  send 
mine  next  week  if  I  can  finde  them.  The  escutcheon 
will  cost  about  40  or  50  shillings  ....  doe  what 
you  thinke  best  and  fittest  without  consideration  of 
any  charge.' 

At  length  a  safe-conduct  for  the  coffin  was  found. 
Sir  Ralph  followed  the  ship  in  thought  with  loving 
anxiety,  '  every  puffe  of  winde  that  tosses  it  at  sea, 
shakes  me  at  land  7 — the  honest  Doctor  saw  it  reve- 
rently interred  in  Middle  Claydon  Church  on  Novem- 
ber 20, 1 650.  A  few  relations  and  friends  were  present, 
and  it  is  apparently  with  reference  to  Mary's  burial 
that  Sir  Roger  wrote  some  weeks  later :  '  Although  the 
sadness  of  the  occasion  struck  death  allmost  into  me, 
yet  as  it  was  a  service  both  to  the  living  and  the  dead, 
it  was  performed  with  as  much  life  &  heartiness  as 


THE   END   OF   MANY   THINGS   AND   PEOPLE      423 

could  be  imagined.'  Sir  Ralph  was  left  to  derive 
what  comfort  he  could  from  the  intelligence  that 
Dame  Ursula  Yerney  (widow  of  Sir  Francis)  was 
deeply  offended  that  she  had  not  been  invited  to  the 
funeral,  it  was  her  way  of  showing  her  respect  for  one 
whom  the  older  members  of  the  family  held  in  such 
high  esteem. 

The  state  of  Ralph's  affairs  did  not  admit  of 
his  returning  home,  and  he  wrote  to  Dr.  Denton  : 
'  My  mind  runs  more  after  Italy  ;  not  to  delight 
myselfe  with  anything  there,  for  since  my  deare  Wife's 
death  I  have  bid  adieu  to  all  that  most  men  count 
theire  Happinesse.  The  Arabian  deserts  are  now  farre 
more  agreeable  to  my  humour  then  the  most  pleasant 
Grotts  and  Gardens  that  Rome  it  selfe  affords.  Ah, 
Dr.,  Dr.,  her  company  made  every  place  a  paradice 
unto  me,  but  she  being  gonn,  unlesse  god  bee  most 
meraculously  mercifull,  what  good  can  bee  expected 
by  your  most  afflicted  and  unfortunate  servant.' 

In  advising  his  quarrelsome  sister  Margaret  Elmes 
to  be  submissive  to  her  husband,  Sir  Ralph  pays  a 
touching  tribute  to  Mary's  memory :  '  Give  me  leave 
to  set  before  your  eyes  my  owne  deare  M'ife  that's  now 
with  God.  You  know  she  brought  a  farr  better  for- 
tune then  my  Estate  deserved,  and  for  her  guifts  of 
Grace  and  nature  I  may  justly  say  she  was  inferior 
to  very  few,  soe  that  she  might  well  expect  all  reason- 
able observance  from  mee,  yet  such  was  her  goodnesse 
that  when  I  was  most  Peevish  she  would  be  most 
Patient,  and  as  if  she  meant  to  aire  my  frowardnesse 


424      VERNEY  FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

and  frequent  follies  by  the  constancy  of  her  forbear- 
ance, studdied  nothing  more  then  a  sweet  compliance. 
But  perhaps  you  may  thinke  I  was  a  better  husband 
then  your  owne  ;  alas,  if  that  were  soe,  twas  she  that 
made  me  soe,  and  I  may  thanke  her  silence  and  dis- 
creation  for  your  good  oppinion  of  me,  for  had  she 
(like  soe  many  other  wifes)  divulged  my  faults,  or  in 
a  proud  disdainfull  way  dispised  me  for  my  pettish 
humours,  tis  tenn  to  one  I  had  beene  found  more  liable 
to  censure  then  any  other  man.' 


To  read  through  many  thousands  of  a  man's 
private  letters  is  to  know  him  as  one  knows  very  few 
of  one's  own  contemporaries,  and  Ralph  Verney  is  a 
man  who  stands  this  most  trying  test.  '  In  all  time 
of  his  tribulation,  in  all  time  of  his  wealth,  in  the 
hour  of  death,'  and  in  the  day  of  his  prosperity,  he 
comes  out  as  a  high-minded,  large-hearted,  unselfish, 
most  conscientious  man,  ever  striving  to  find  out  the 
truth  and  to  abide  by  it  in  good  report  and  evil  report. 

There  was  not  in  him  the  chivalrous  charm  which 
made  his  father  Sir  Edmund  so  attractive,  the  gallant 
soldier  who  joins  the  advanced  party  on  the  Scotch 
border  and  is  in  the  thick  of  the  battle,  wherever  he 
thinks  it  his  duty,  to  the  great  terror  of  his  unwar- 
like  son.  '  You  would  not  wish  me  to  lose  any  of 
that  little  honour  in  which  I  have  lived,'  he  writes  in 
answer  to  Ralph's  remonstrance.  When  '  the  vote 
of  Wicombe '  is  scored  against  him  by  the  Court, 


THE  END   OF   MANY  THINGS  AND  PEOPLE      425 

{  and  the  great  ones  '  look  coldly  on  him  in  1641,  as 
his  son  Henry  observes  sulkily  from  the  Hague,  he 
pursues  unmoved  the  even  tenor  of  his  way.  The 
cheerful  spirit  in  which  he  enjoyed  life,  before  his 
troubles  and'  perplexities  grew  too  heavy  for  him, 
made  him  most  popular  with  the  great  ladies  of  the 
Puritan  party — Lady  Barrymore,  Lady  Sussex,  Lady 
Carnarvon — as  l  a  reddy  and  compleat  man  for  the 
pleasures  of  ladyes,'  as  Sir  John  Drake  writes. 
When  dressed  in  his  '  Isabella  satin  sute,  orna- 
mented with  silver  and  gold  buttons  and  twist '  (still 
preserved  at  Clay  don),  he  attended  Henrietta  Maria's 
Court  as  gentleman  of  the  privy  chamber,  or  accom- 
panied Charles  on  his  progresses  in  '  crimson  sattin 
dublit  and  cloake  lyned  with  pynked  plush,'  he  was 
regarded  as  the  very  model  of  a  gentleman  and  a 
courtier.  But  he  was  never  so  happy  as  when  he 
could  return  to  his  home  at  Claydon  to  his  '  very  loving 

v  J  O 

wife  '  and  the  six  little  girls  to  whom  he  was  such  an 
affectionate  father  ;  to  look  after  the  '  plashing  of  the 
hedgs,'  the  making  of  the  hay,  the  letting  of  the 
farms,  and  the  management  of  the  '  geldinges  and 
nagges  '  which,  riding  often  as  he  did  sixty  or  seventy 
miles  with  the  king  in  the  day,  or  out  hunting  in 
Whaddon  Chase,  were  as  necessary  to  his  active 
existence  as  meat  and  drink.  And,  finally,  when  he 
found  it  impossible  to  reconcile  his  conflicting  duties 
to  the  sovereign  whom  he  had  served  faithfully  for 
thirty  years,  and  the  country  which  he  believed 
Charles  to  be  ruining,  he  went  into  battle  with  not 


42 G      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

even  his  buff  suit,  and  threw  himself  on  the  pikes  of 
the  enemy  in  despair  of  life,  to  plunge  into  '  a  sea  of 
troubles,  and  by  opposing  end  them.'  Sir  Edmund, 
with  his  passionate  affections,  his  deep  religious  con- 
victions, and  his  enjoyment  of  all  the  purer  pleasures, 
must  have  been  one  of  the  most  attractive  men  of  his 
time,  of  the  type  of  Lord  Falkland  on  one  side  of 
politics  and  Colonel  Hutchinson  on  the  other. 

Sir  Ralph  is  the  champion  of  causes  and  of  men 
when  they  are  unsuccessful  and  want  friends,  and  falls 
off  when,  like  Jeshurun,  they  '  wax  fat  and  kick.' 
He  is  on  the  side  of  the  Parliament,  of  Pym  and 
Hampden,  Holies,  Hyde,  and  St.  John,  when  there 
is  great  danger  in  taking  that  line  against  the  king. 
When  his  party  are  in  the  ascendant  and  he  thinks 
they  are  going  too  far,  he  turns,  though  moderately, 
to  the  side  of  Charles.  When  his  old  allies  become 
triumphant  and  he  might  rise  with  them  to  the  top  of 
the  tree  and  the  conduct  of  affairs,  if  he  will  only  take 
the  Covenant  in  religion  and  the  violent  republican 
view  of  politics,  he  prefers  to  spend  his  life  in  poverty 
and  isolation  abroad,  with  his  beloved  Claydon  seques- 
trated, his  wife  dying,  and  to  remain  in  lonely  exile 
afterwards,  away  from  all  the  friends  to  whom  they 
were  so  Warmly  attached.  He  returned  to  England 
only  to  be  the  object  of  Cromwell's  suspicion,  and 
was  in  durance,  though  not  close  prison,  in  St.  James's 
Tennis  Court  for  seventeen  weeks  in  1655,  because 
he  would  not  give  recognisances  to  the  Protector. 

At  the  Restoration,  when  he  might  have  pleaded 


THE  END   OF   MANY  THINGS  AND  PEOPLE      427 

his  sufferings  for  the  cause  of  the  king,  he  was  so  dis- 
tressed and  disgusted  at  the  arbitrary  measures  of 
Charles  II.  and  his  government  as  soon  as  they  he- 
came  triumphant,  that  he  is  in  opposition  again.  His 
sister,  Lady  Osborn,  lives  at  Court,  at  her  lodgings  '  up 
the  Banqueting  House  stayres  in  Whitehall ' ;  every 
country  gentleman  of  his  standing  attends  at  White- 
hall as  a  matter  of  course,  but  his  name  is  hardly  ever 
to  be  found  there  and  he  is  under  a  cloud  with  the 
ruling  party.  He  was  in  the  House  of  Commons 
again  after  the  Restoration,  and  was  elected,  with  his 
cousin  Sir  Richard  Temple,  of  Stowe,  in  the  Parlia- 
ment of  1680,  '  among  the  very  few  Whigs  who  find 
their  way  there,'  observes  Lord  Macaulay. 

He  was  turned  out  of  the  magistracy  of  Bucking- 
hamshire (also  with  Sir  Richard  Temple)  by  James  II. 
in  the  early  part  of  1688,  just  before  the  beginning 
of  the  end.  Wary  and  cautious  as  he  was  patient, 
gentle,  and  long-sighted,  with  no  hot-headed  enthu- 
siasms, no  passionate  genius  to  support  and  lead  him 
on,  and  with  all  the  experience  of  the  bad  days,  the 
obloquy  and  distress  in  store  for  those  who  opposed 
the  men  in  power,  equally  arbitrary  on  whichever 
side  they  might  be  found ;  he  never  flinches,  but  bears 
his  testimony  to  what  he  thinks  right,  and  suffers 
for  it  in  a  quiet,  unobtrusive  way  which  is  inexpres- 
sibly touching  in  a  man  who  so  keenly  valued  the 
society  of  his  friends,  the  enjoyment  of  his  pleasant 
home,  and  the  position  to  which  he  had  been  born. 
Counting  the  cost  to  the  full,  and  willing  to  endure 


428      VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

the  penalty,  whatever  it  might  be,  he  held  himself 
ready  for  any  sacrifice  that  might  be  demanded  of 
him  by  his  principles.  In  unfolding  the  enormous 
number  of  packets  of  letters,  a  phrase  of  Lady  Vere 
Gaudy's  turned  up  towards  the  end  of  his  life,  '  You 
who  are  so  well  with  the  government  can  certainly 
get  this  done  for  my  son.'  It  read  so  strangely  that 
I  turned  to  the  date  and  found  it  was  after  the  acces- 
sion of  William  and  Mary.  Then  for  the  first  time 
the  old  man  had  found  a  government  to  which  he 
could  give  his  satisfied  allegiance,  a  king  at  the  head 
of  things  whom  he  could  trust,  and  conduct  of  affairs 
on  which  he  could  look  with  hope.  But  he  does  not 
thrust  himself  forward  for  any  personal  recognition 
of  his  claims  from  the  crown.  He  attends  the  Con- 
vention Parliament  regularly,  and  then  returns  each 
recess  to  his  home,  satisfied  to  do  the  work  in  country 
and  estate  where  he  has  so  much  in  his  power — with 
no  desire  for  additional  rank  or  position,  independent, 
with  a  certain  quiet  pride  in  owing  no  man  anything, 
and  doing  good  to  all  who  come  in  his  way,  interested 
in  all  the  great  questions  of  his  day,  advancing  with 
his  age,  truly  and  deeply  religious,  yet  without  a 
tinge  of  bigotry  or  conceit.  His  little  foibles  have- 
worn  away  with  the  varied  experiences  and  sufferings 
of  his  early  life,  he  is  '  a  very  fine  gentleman,'  as 
comes  out  in  the  letters  of  one  of  his  many  lady 
friends.  '  I  cannot  hope  my  son-in-law  should  have 
the  manners  of  Sir  Kalph  Verney,'  writes  another. 
Pure-minded  amidst  the  unutterable  foulness  of  the 


THE   END   OF  MANY  THINGS  AND  PEOPLE      429 

times  of  Charles  II.,  honourable,  affectionate,  just, 
relied  upon  by  all  his  friends  for  the  intelligent  help 
he  never  refused  with  all  his  caution,  and  the  wise 
sympathy  he  gave  in  all  their  troubles,  content  with 
that  with  which  God  had  blessed  him,  he  was  the 
very  ideal  of  an  old  English  country  gentleman. 


APPENDIX 


DOCUMENTS  CONCERNING  SIR  EDMUND  VERNEY  S  CLAIMS  ON 
THE  ALNAGE.  FROM  NALSON's  COLLECTION  OF  MSS.,  VOL. 
XV.,  IN  THE  POSSESSION  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  PORTLAND, 
PRINTED  BY  HIS  KIND  PERMISSION. 

TO  THE  HONBLE  COMTEE  OF  THE  KING'S  EE VENUE. 

The  humble  Peticon  of  Susanna  Verriey,  Penelope  Verney, 
Mary  Verney  and  Elizabeth  Verney,  4  of  the  daughters 
of  Sr  Edmund  Verney  kn*  deceased, 

Humbly  sheweth 

That  our  late  Soveraigne  Lord  king  James,  by  his  high- 
nesse  seuerall  Letters  Pattents  dat  13  Apr.  11°  of  his 
raigne,  did  grant  unto  Lodowick  Duke  of  Lenox  the  seuerall 
Offices  of  Aulnager  and  Collect1"  of  the  Subsidy  &  Aulnage 
for  the  terme  of  60  yeares  under  the  yearely  rent  of 
9G911:  9s:  4d  payable  into  the  Excheqr 

That  his  now  Matie  by  his  highnesse  Letteres  pattentes 
dat.  25°  July  14°  of  his  raigne,  for  great  consideracons 
therein  expressed,  did  grant  unto  ye  said  Sr  Edm:  Verney 
his  Executrs  Administratrs  &  Assignes,  one  yearely  pencon 
of  40011  for  21  yeares,  to  be  paid  by  the  hands  of  the  Col- 
lect" Farmors  and  Assignees  of  the  said  Farmes,  out  of  the 
said  rent  of  994*1:  9s:  4d  and  did  therein  grant,  that  if  it 
should  happen  that  the  said  Letteres  pattents  to  the  said 
Duke  of  Lennox,. should  be  surrendred  or  the  estate  therein 


432      VERXEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 

granted  to  be  otherwise  determined,  the  said  yeerely  pencon 
of  400U  should  be  paid  to  the  said  Sr  Edm:  Verney  his 
Execute™  Administratrs  and  Assignes,  out  of  the  Fees  and 
profittes  of  the  said  Aulnage,  Subsedy  and  premisses  by  the 
Collrs  Occupyers  and  receiv1"8  thereof. 

That  the  said  Sr  Edm:  Verney,  by  Indenture  dat  j° 
Mar.  14  Carol,  did  grant,  assigne  and  sett  over,  the  said 
Letteres  pattents  &  Annuity,  to  certaine  persons  (therein 
named)  in  trust  (amongst  other  things)  that  300n  per  an 
of  the  said  Annuity  of  400^  per  an  should  be  employed 
towards  the  maintenance  of  yor  petitioners  &  raysing  them 
the  sufhe  of  One  thousand  pounds  a  peece,  for  and  towards 
theire  porcons  wch  is  all  yor  petitioners  hopes  or  meanes  of 
subsistence,  they  having  no  other  meanes  but  the  charity 
of  friends  to  keepe  them  from  starving. 

That  the  said  severall  Offices  and  profitts,  are  amongst 
other  of  his  Maties  revenue  sequestred  whereby  yor  peti- 
tioners are  deprived  of  theire  said  maintenance  and  porcons 
without  directions  from  this  honble  Comttee  Although  the 
sequestracion  of  his  Maties  revenue  or  the  Office  and  profites 
of  the  Duke  of  Lenox,  doth  not  make  void  or  impeach  the 
said  yearely  rent  of  400H  per  an.  And  the  said  994n  9s  4d 
and  more,  is  still  made  and  paid  by  the  said  Farm1"3  and 
Collect"  And  all  payments  before  the  sequestracon  were 
allowed  upon  Accompt  taken  of  the  old  Officers,  by  the 
Auditors  appointed  by  Parliam1  by  vertue  of  the  said 
Letteres  pattentes. 

May  it  please  the  Honbl3  Comttee  to  grant  theire  Order 
and  Warrant  to  the  Officers,  Farmors  Collrs  Eeceivors  of  the 
said  Aulnage  and  Subsidy  for  the  time  being  to  pay  from 
time  to  time  the  said  Annuity  or  rent  charge  of  400*'  per  an 
as  it  shall  become  due  and  payable  according  to  the  said 
Letters  pattentes  And  to  take  such  Order  for  the  payment 
of  such  Arrears  as  are  incurred  since  the  Sequestracon  in 
reasonable  time  as  yor  wisdomes  shall  thinke  fitt. 

And  yor  Petitioners  shall  ever  pray  &c. 


APPENDIX  433 


At  y'  Comittee  of  Lords  &  Coitions  for  his  Mties  Revenue, 
sitting  at  Westminster  ye  xxjst  day  of  September  1647. 

Vpon  Consideration  had  of  ye  Peticon  (annexed)  of 
Susanna  Verney,  Penelope  Verney,  Mary  Yerney,  &  Eliza- 
beth Verney,  daughters  of  Sr  Edmund  Verney  deceased, 
Praying  that  ye  yeerly  Pention  of  fowre  hundred  pounds, 
&  y6  Arreares,  may  be  paid,  Out  of  y6  Rente  reserved  to  y* 
Crowne,  vpon  ye  Collection  of  ye  Subsidie  of  ye  Aulnage, 
according  to  Sr  Edmund  Verney s  Assignment  of  his  Patent, 
bearing  date  ye  xxvth  July  xiiijto  Car. 

Ordered  &  Wee  doe  desire  Olliver  Saint  John  Esqr  his 
Maties  Sollicitor  Generall  to  peruse  the  said  Patent  & 
Assignment,  &  to  certifie  vnto  this  Coir.ittee  vnder  his 
hand,  ye  State  of  them,  with  his  Opinion  thereupon. 

SALISBURY 

Hen.  Mildmay  W.  Say  and  Seale 

Denis  Bond  Wharton. 

Mr  Sollicitor  generall.  Ind. 


Report  of  Oliver  St.  John,  Solicitor  General,  on  the  Petition 
of  Sir  Edmund  Verney' s  daughters.     164f. 

May  it  please  yor  Lordps 

Accordinge  to  yor  Lordps  Order  of  the  xxjth  of  September 
last,  Whereby  I  am  required  to  pervse  Sr  Edmund  Verneys 
Pattent,  WTherevpon  a  pencion  of  foure  hundred  pounds 
and  the  Arreares  thereof  are  claymed  out  of  the  Rent  re- 
served to  the  Crowne  vpon  the  Collection  of  the  Subsidie  of 
the  Alnadge  and  likewise  Sr  Edmund  Verneys  Assignement 
thereof,  And  to  certifie  the  State  thereof  to  yor  Lord1"  I 
haue  pervsed  the  same  and  I  find  that  his  Matie  that  how  is 
by  his  Letters  Pattents  vnder  the  great  Seale  of  England 

VOL.  II.  F  S 


434      VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 

beareinge  date  25th  of  July  14°  of  his  Eaigne  reciteinge  that 
his  said  Matie  two  severall  Letters  Pattents  the  one  beare- 
inge date  26°  decemfe  1°  of  his  Eaigne  and  the  other  xxvj° 
May  2°  of  his  Eaigne  granted  vnto  the  said  Sr  Edmund 
Verney  Two  severall  yearely  porcions  of  two  hundred 
pounds  a  peice  for  his  life  payable  out  of  his  Maties  receipt 
of  the  Exchequer,  and  that  by  other  Letters  Pattentes 
beareinge  date  16°  Febr  1°  of  his  Eaigne  his  Matie  granted 
vnto  the  said  Sr  Edmund  Verney  the  Office  of  Marshall  of 
the  household  and  of  the  Marshall  of  the  Marshallsey  of 
the  household  and  all  fees  Jurisdicions  &c.  therevnto  be- 
longinge  and  that  a  stipend  of  xs  per  diem  is  menconed  to 
be  granted  by  the  said  last  Letteres  Pattents  to  the  vnder 
Marshall  of  the  household  paid  by  the  Cofferer  of  the 
household  to  the  Marshall  for  the  time  beinge  and  to  be 
disposd  of  by  him  And  that  the  said  Sr  Edmund  Verney 
by  his  deed  dated  13°  July  last  past  before  the  date  of  the 
first  menconed  Letteres  Pattents  (as  much  as  in  him  was) 
released  vnto  his  said  Matie  the  said  Stipend  of  xs  per  diem 
and  the  Arrerage  thereof.  And  did  Covefmt  wh  his  Matie 
his  heires  and  Successors  that  neither  himselfe  'nor  his 
deputie  or  Deputies  or  vndr  Marshall  or  any  other  in  his  or 
theire  behalf  should  demand  or  receive  the  said  stipend  of 
xs  per  diem  and  thereby  likewise  granted  and  Surrendered 
vnto  his  Matie  the  said  two  seuerall  Pencons  of  CCH  a  peice 
to  him  granted  as  aforesaid  by  the  said  two  seuerall  Letteres 
Pattents  and  that  his  Matie  had  accepted  and  approved 
thereof  And  reciteing  that  his  late  Matie  Kinge  James  by 
two  seuerall  Letteres  Pattents  vnder  the  great  Seale  of 
England  dated  13°  April  11°  of  his  Eaigne  and  confirmed 
by  two  seuerall  Indentures  likewise  vnder  the  great  S[eale] 
dated  J4°  April  the  same  yeare  granted  the  seuerall  Offices 
of  Aulnadge  and  Collect1"  of  the  Subsidie  and  Aulnadge  of 
the  old  and  new  Draperies  &c.  and  alsoe  the  seuerall  farmes 
of  the  Subsidies  Aulnage,  somes  of  money,  Moetie  of  For- 
feitures and  duties  payable  vpon  all  and  all  manner  of 


APPENDIX  435 

Woolen  Cloathes  and  Stuffs  of  the  old  and  new  draperies 
made  to  be  sould  in  the  Eealme  of  England  Dominion  of 
Wales  arid  Isle  of  Weight  vnto  Lodowicke  then  Duke  of 
Lenox  his  Exec.  &c.  for  60  yeares  vndr  seuerall  yearely 
Rents  amountinge  in  the  whole  to  994*1  9s  4d  payable  into 
the  Eeceipt  of  his  Maties  Excheqr  att  Michas  and  or  Lady 
day,  did  in  Consideracon  of  the  said  'Surrendr  release  and 
Covefint  giue  and  grant  vnto  ye  said  Sr  Edmund  Verney 
his  Exec.  Administrate™  and  Assignes  One  yearely  pencon 
or  Some  of  400"  per  Ann  for  the  Terme  of  (21)  yeares 
from  the  Annuncacon  of  the  Virgin  Mary  last  past  before 
the  date  of  the  said  first  menconed  Letteres  Pattents  To 
be  pd  by  the  hand  of  the  Collectors  Farmers  and  Assignes 
for  the  time  beinge  of  the  sd  seuerall  Farmes  and  premisses 
att  the  feasts  of  Michas  and  or  Lady  day  by  even  porcons  or 
whin  fortie  dayes  after.  But  of  the  said  seuerall  yearely 
Rents  or  somes  of  money  reserved  vpon  the  said  two 
Letteres  Pattents  and  Indentures  made  to  the  said  Duke, 
And  his  Matie  did  likewise  thereby  grant  and  declare  That 
if  the  said  Letteres  Pattents  and  Indentures  made  to  the 
said  Duke,  should  be  surrendered  or  his  Estate  therein 
otherwise  be  determined,  The  said  Pencon  of  400n  should 
be  pd  out  of  the  proffitts  arisinge  out  of  the  said  Subsidies 
and  Aulnage  to  be  paid  by  the  Collectors  Occupiers  and 
Receivers  thereof,  And  the  said  Sr  Edmund  Yerney  by 
One  Indenture  beareing  date  1°  Mar.  14°  Car.  and  made 
betweene  him  the  said  Sr  Edmund  Verney  [of]  the  one 
part,  And  Sr  Alexander  Denton  of  Hillesden  in  the  Countie 
of  Buck  Kn*  Ralph  Verney  Esqr  sonne  and  heire  apparent 
of  the  said  Sr  Edmund  Verney,  John  Denton  of  Lincolnes 
Inn  Esqr,  and  Wilfrn  Denton  of  the  Citty  of  Westmr  Doctor 
of  Phisicke  of  the  other  parte  (recitinge  as  therein  is  recited) 
did  as  well  for  rayseinge  of  Porcons  for  his  Children  therein 
menconed  as  for  other  Consideracons  Assigne  over  vnto  the 
said  Sr  Alexander  Denton  &c.  the  said  Pencon  of  400" 
granted  to  him  by  the  said  Letteres  Pattents  dated  24°  July 


436      VERXEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   AVAR 

14°  Car.  and  all  his  Eight  Title  Terme  of  yeares  Interest 
and  demand  therein,  And  this  was  vpon  Trust. 

[1]  For  the  raysinge  of  800*'  towards  the  payment  of 
his  debts. 

[2]  For  the  payeinge  of  5011  per  Ann!  to  his  third  sonne 
Edmund  Verney  for  his  mainteynance  and  by  fiftie  pounds 
per  Ann!  more  and  the  benefitt  thereof  to  rayse  a  stocke  of 
800"  for  him,  wth  which  an  Anuitie  of  100uper  Ann!  should 
be  purchased  for  him  for  his  Life  and  when  that  is  rayesed 
the  fiftie  pounds  per  Ann!  for  his  rnanteynance  to  cease. 
And  it  is  thereby  provided  That  if  any  person  authorized 
by  the  said  Sr  Edmund  Verney  in  his  Life  time  shall  after 
his  death  tender  5s  in  such  manner  and  make  such  decla- 
racon  as  in  the  said  deed  is  expressed  that  then  the  Trusts 
and  paymts  lymited  to  his  sonne  Edmund  should  cease. 

3  To  rayse  a  thousand  pound  for  the  marriage  pore-on 
of  Susan  eldest  daughter  of  the  said  Sr  Edmund  Verney, 
and  One  thousand  pound  more  for  the  marriage  Porcon  of 
Penelope  one  other  of  his  Daughters. 

4  To  rayse  2000"  more  to  be  disposed  of  to  such  person 
or  persons   as  ye  said  Sr  Edmund  Verney  shall  by  any 
writeing  vnder  his  hand  and  seale  in  the  presence  of  three 
Credible  Witnesses  appoint  and  declare. 

5  To  rayse  a  1000U  more  for  the  marriage  porcon  of 
Mary  Verney  5*  daughter  of  the  said  Sr  Edmund  and  100011 
more  for  the  marriage  Porcon  of  Elizabeth  Verney  his 
youngest   Daughter   and    after   the   seuerall   Porcbns  are 
rays  3d   the  profitt  thereof  is  to  be  paid  them  for  their 
manteynance,     In  which  sd  Indenture]  there  is  this  pro- 
visor  That  the  said  Sr  Edmund  Verney  by  any  writinge 
vnder  his  hand  and  Seale  might  revoke  alter  and  make 
voyd  any  of  the  Trusts  and  Paymt3  aforesd  (other  then  such 
as  should  be  pd  &  executed  before  such  revocacion)  and 
after  such  Kevocacon  or  in  Case  noe  revocacon  or  alteration 
should  be  made  the  Surplusage  of  money  received  or  to  be 
received  by  the  sa[idj  Trustees  or  any  of  them  or  their 


APPENDIX  437 

Exec.  &c.  should  be  pd  to  Sr  Edmund  Verney  or  vnto  his 
heire  att  lawe  or  vnto  such  as  they  should  appoint  in 
writings  vnder  their  hand  and  Seale. 

This  I  conceive  to  be  the  state  of  the  case,  wch  never- 
theless I  submit  to  yor  Lordps  wisclome  &  further  direction. 

01:  S*  JOHN. 
8  Feb.  1647. 

Mr  Sollicitor 

his  report  to  ye  Comtee  of  Eevenue. 


At  the  Committee  of  Lords  &  Commons  for  his  Matlcs 
Revenue  sitting  at  Westminster  the  xvfh  dale  of 
Februarie  1648. 

Ordered  ;  that  the  State  (annexed)  of  Olliver  Saint  John 
Esqr  late  Sollicitor  generall,  of  the  right  Susanna  Verney, 
Penelope  Verney,  Marie  Verney,  &  Elizabeth  Verney, 
Daughters  of  Sr  Edmund  Verney  deceased,  hath  in  fower 
Hundred  pounds  per  Ann,  with  the  Arrears,  paieable  Out 
of  the  Eent  reserved  to  the  Crowne  vpon  the  Collection  of 
the  Subsidie  of  the  Aulnage  ;  be  reported  to  the  Commons 
Howse,  And  wee  desire  the  Lod  Grey  of  Grorby  to  Report 
the  same  accordingly  vnto  the  Howse  when  He  Reports  the 
State  of  the  Aulnage. 


INDEX 


ABB 

ABBOT,  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, i.  71 

Abeles,  Jonas,  ii.  179 
Abell,     Mary,     wife     of    young 

Edmund  Verney,  i.  26,  27 
Abell,  William,  i.  26 
Abercrombie,  Captain  Jaconiah, 

or  Jeremiah,  ii.  199,  200 
Abingdon,  Eleanor  Lee,  Countess 

of,  i.  248 
Abingdon,    Abbey    of,    i.     114; 

mayor  of,  i.  221 
Adams,    Rev.    Charles,    married 

Eliz.  Verney,  ii.  384 
Adams,  John,  architect,  i.  16 
Addington  manor,  ii.  199 
Albury,  Herts,  i.  59 ;  ii.  4 
Aleppo,  i.  69 
Algiers,  i.  63,  65 
Alington,  William,  1st  Lord,  ii. 

411,  412 
Allcock,  Frances,  housekeeper  at 

Claydon,  ii.  17,  175,  287,  288, 

291,  293,  373 ,  372,  378,  382 
Allen,  Thomas,  i.  121 
Alnage,  duty  on  woollen  cloths, 

i.   3 ;  ii.   145,    146,    174,    180, 

406  ;  Appendix,  vol.  ii. 
Alport,     Richard,     of     Overton 

Manor,  Cheshire,  ii.  351,  354, 

355,  356,   357,  358,  362,  363, 

364,  368,  370,  384,  387,  388 
Alport,  Susan,  Mrs.,  ii.  246,  359, 

360,  361,  368,  369,  370,  371, 

384,    385,    388;    see   Yerney, 

Susan 

Alsatia,  i,  61 
Amnion,  Major,  ii.  192 


BAK 

Andrews,  John,  ii.  310 
Andrews,  Lord,  i.  131 
Annandale,  Sir  John  Murray,  1st 

Earl  of,  i.  229 
Anne  Boleyn,  i.  48 
Anne  of  Cleves,  i.  51,  53 
Apothecary  (see  Gape),  bill  of,  i. 

167 

Apsly,  Captain,  i.  324 
Aris,    Rev.    John,   i.    146,    150, 

165  ;  ii.  17,  18,  288,  289,  291, 

419 

Aris,  Mrs.,  ii.  289 
Aris,  Nicholas,  ii.  208 
Arms,  i.   312,  314,  315,  325  ;  ii. 

110,  111,  201 
Arundel,  Thomas  Howard,    Earl 

of,  i.  130,  306,  307  ;  ii.  100 
Ash,  Mr.  John,  ii.  304,  308 
Ashridge,  i.  42,  51 
Astley,  Sir  Jacob,  i.  334;  ii.  114 
Aston,  Sir  Arthur,  ii.  344,  346 
Aubigny,  Lord,  ii.  116,  122 
Avenel,  Alice,  i.  30 
Aylesbury,   i.    28,  29,    327,  328, 

329  ;  ii.  74,  172,  191,  192,  218, 

255 


T)ACCHUS,  Sir  John,  ii.  349 
L)     Bacon,  Sir  Nathaniel,  i.  254 
Bacon,  Mr.,  son  of  SirNath.,  i. 

254  ;  ii.  102 
Badnage,  Bridget  Leeke,  Mrs.,  i. 

205,  206  ;  see  Hals,  Bridget 
Badnage,   Mr.,    i.    96,    204,  205, 

206  ;  ii.  50 
Baker,  Thomas,  ii.  171 


VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING    THE   CIVIL   WAR 


BAL 

Balfour,  Sir  William,  Lieutenant 

of  the  Tower,  i.  357 
Barbadoes,  i.  Ill,  148,  149,  150, 

151  ;  ii.  157,  158,  338,  346,  349 
Barry,  John,  ii.  202,  20,} 
Barrymore,   Alice,   Countess   of, 

i.  101,  134,  iy5.  196,  200,  202, 

203,  302  ;  ii.   15,    16,   43,    44, 

53,  55,  56,  89,  267,  425 
Barrymore,  David  Barry,  1st  Earl 

of,  i.  195,  196,  202,  215,  227  ; 

ii.  45,  50,  52,  55 
Bates,  Dr.  George,  born  at  Maid's 

Morton,  afterwards  Cromwell's 

chief  physician,  i.  164 
Bayly,  Lieut. -Gen.   Sir  William, 

ii.  337 
Beadnege,  John,  Lord  Mayor,  ii. 

182 
Bedford,    William    Russell,    4th 

Earl  of,  i.  105,  199 
Bedford,  town  of,  i.  328 
Bell,  Mr.  William,  ii.  160,  163 
Beresford,  Mary  Leeke,  Mrs.,  i. 

197 

Berney,  — ,  ii.  194 
Bethune,  Dr.,  ii.  318 
Blacknall,  John,  i.  113 
Blacknall,     Mary     (see    Verney, 

Dame  Mary),  i.  113,  115 
Blagrove,     SJT     Alex.    Denton's 

steward,  ii.  194 

Blakeney,  Mary,  i.  58  ;  see  Ver- 
ney, Dame  Mary,   '  ould  Lady 

Verney ' 

Blower,  Richard,  ii.  176 
Bodley,  Sir  Thoma?,  i.  215 
Bohemia  ;   see   Elizabeth,   Queen 

of  Bohemia 
Bolton,  Mr.,  i.  174 
Bond,  Denis,  M.P.,ii.  437 
Bond,  John,  M.P.,  ii.  145,  166 
Booth,  Mr.,  ii.  44 
Boreman,  Sir  William,  i.  14 
Borlase,  Sir  John,  ii.  41,  42 
Botolph  House,  i.  30 
Boyle,  Hon.  Robert,  i.  204 
Boyle,  Lieut. -Col.,  ii.  345 
Boyle,  Lady  Katherine,  ii.    203, 

204 

Bradshaw,  John,  ii.  345 
Braye,  Lord  and  Lady,  i.  50, 56, 57 


CAL 

Braye,  Elizabeth,  i.  50 
Braye,  Sir  Reginald,  i.  50 
'  Brerewood's  Logic,'  ii.  9 
Bridgman,  Sir  Orlando,  ii.  264 
Bristol,  John  Digby,  1st  Earl  of, 

i.  70,  83 
Broghill,  Roger  Boyle,  Lord,  ii. 

45,  48 
Brooke,  Robert  Grevile,  Lord,  i. 

1*5,  305,  353;     ii.  113,    115, 

122,  154 

Broughton,  Elizabeth,  i.  48 
Brown,  Colonel,  ii.  95 
Brown,  Major,  M.P.,  ii.  394 
Brown,  Sir  Richard,  ii.  216 
Brown,  Dr.,    of    Christchurch,  i. 

260 
Brown,  Mr.,  a  possible  husband 

for  Mary  Verney,  ii.  372,  375 
Bruce,  John,  Esq. ,  Introductory 

Note  ;  i.  70  ;  ii.  22 
Brnce,       Magdalen,     Mrs.  ;     see 

Faulkner 
Buck,     Mr.,     Lady     Ormonde's 

Gentleman-Usher,  ii.  341,  344 
Buckingham,     George      Villiers, 

Marquis  of,  i.  75,  76,  78  ;  Duke 

of,  88,  90,  91,  92,  93 
Buckingham,  county  and  town,  i. 

11,  26,  28,  39,  46,  48,  55,  74, 

84,  88,  327,  328,  339  ;  ii.  230, 

427 

Bulstrode,  Henry,  i.  330 
Burgoyne,     Sir     Roger,      Bart., 

M.P.,  i.  14,  134,   344  ;  ii.  ]63, 

178,   179,  197,  220,   239,  244, 

246,  249,  268,  271,   272,  306, 

307,  312,   397,  401,  409,  410, 

422 

Burnet,  Gilbert,  Bishop  of  Salis- 
bury, i.  248 
Busby,  Robert,  of  Addington,  i. 

298  ;  ii.  93,  290,  291 
Byron,  John  Byron,  Lord,  ii.  321, 

322 
Byron,  Sir  Robert,  ii.  321 


CALABY,    Sir  Hugh,    ii.  384, 
385 

Calendar,  James  Livingstone,  1st 
Earl  of,  ii.  339 


INDEX 


441 


CAST 

Cantelupe,  Thomas  de,  i.  1,  22 
note 

Cantelupe,  William  de,  i.  22 

Canterbury,  Archbishops  of  ;  see 
Abbot  and  Laud 

Cardinal,  Prince,  Ferdinand,  son  ; 
of  Philip  III.  of  Spain,  Gover- 
nor of  the  Netherlands,  i.  138 

Carew,  Awdreye,  i.  58 

Carew,  George,  i.  62 

Carlyle,  Lord,  i.  185,  219 

Carnarvon,  Anne  Sophia  Herbert, 
Countess  of,  i.  102  ;  ii.  425 

Carnarvon,  Robert  Dormer,  Earl 
of,  i.  102 

Cary,  Sir  .Edmund,  ii.  339 

Gary,  Sir  Lorenzo,  ii.  133 

Cary,  Margaret  Smith,  Mrs., 
afterwards  Lady  Herbert,  i. 
252  ;  ii.  58  note 

Catherine  of  Arragon,  i.  11,  33, 
45,  47 

Catline,  Mr.,  ii.  264 

Chaloner,  Sir  Thomas,  Ambas- 
sador to  Spain,  i.  34 

Chaloner,  Sir  Thomas,  Chamber- 
lain to  Prince  Henry,  i.  33 

Chaloner,  Thomas,  the  regicide, 
i.  34,  344  ;  ii.  146 

Chaloner,  Edward,  Lieut.  R.N., 
i.  35 

Chaloner,  Mr.,  ii.  312 

Chamberlaine,  Dr.  Peter,  ii.  173, 
180 

Charles  I.  as  Prince  of  Wales,  i. 
71,  74,  75,  77  ;  in  Spain,  78, 
81,  82  ;  leaves  Spain,  83  ;  be- 
comes king,  85  ;  makes  Sir  E. 
"Verney  his  Knight-Marshal, 
85,  87  ;  disputes  with  Parlia- 
ment, 90,  96,  121,  330,  3i)2  ; 
summons  peers  to  York,  335  ; 
reverses  in  the  North,  334  ; 
surrenders  Strafford,  358 ; 
received  by  the  City,  ii.  32, 
33  ;  attempts  to  arrest  the  five 
members,  34-37  ;  goes  to  Hull, 
83  ;  meeting  at  York,  89 ; 
commits  the  royal  standard  to 
Sir  Edmund  Verney,  97  ; 
Edgehill,  114  ;  lines  attributed 
to  him,  206  ;  taken  to  Holmby 


COK 

House,  254  ;  goes  to  Isle  of 
Wight,  277  ;  seized  by  order  of 
Army  Council,  394  ;  scaffolds 
building  for  his  trial,  396  ;  his 
execution,  398,  401  ;  his  fune- 
ral, 399,  400,  401;  mourning 
for  him,  402,  403 ;  'Eikon  Basi- 
like,'402,  412 

Charles  II.,  i.  14,  249;  ii.  97, 
113,  335,  336,  339,  342,  410, 
427,  429 

Chicheley,  John,  i.  69 

Chike,  Sir  Roger,  ii.  108 

Chike,  Sir  Thomas,  ii.  108,  153 

Cholmly,  Henry,  ii.  325 

Clanricarde,  Richard,  4th  Earl  of, 
i.  201,  208 

Clanricarde,  Ulick,  5th  Earl  of, 
ii.  132 

Clarendon,  Hyde,  Earl  of,  i.  117, 
147,  300,  330,  340  ;  ii.  89, 109, 
110,  112,  125  ;  see  also  Hyde 

Claydon,  Botolph,  i.  28,  29,  30,  37 

Claydon,  East,  i.  26,  27,  28 

Claydon  House,  account  of,  i. 
1-18  ;  measures  for  defence  of, 
ii.  94 ;  state  of,  during  Civil  War, 
ii.  285  ;  protection  for,  ii.  174  ; 
sequestration  of,  ii.  212,  213  ; 
threatened  with  fire,  205 ;  a 
refuge  for  the  destitute,  ii.  70, 
77,  78,  175,  330,  368,  379 

Claydon,  Middle,  church  of,  i. 
19-26  ;  ii.  17,  18,  19,  422  ; 
rector  of,  see  Aris 

Claydon,  Steeple,  i.  11 ,  31-36  ; 
ii.  193 

Clifford,  Lord,  i.  301        * 

Clothes,  Sir  Francis  Verney's,  i. 
66,68;  Sir  Edmund's,  i.  107, 
108  ;  ii.  327,  425  ;  Sir  Ralph's, 
i.  124  ;  Mary's,  i.  125  ;  Tom's, 
i.  145  ;  Mrs.  Eure's,  i.  288 ; 
Mrs.  Isham's,  ii.  207  ;  Anne 
Lee's,  235  ;  children's  clothes, 
i.  262  ;  ii.  2,  284,  285,  294, 
310;  Susan's,  357,  359,  361, 
Betty's,  377  ;  Peg's,  388 

Cockram,  Mrs.,  ii.  233 

Cockram,  Mr.,  ii.  245,  398 

Coggin,  Mr.,  i.  348 

Coke,  Sir  Edward,  M.P.,  ii.  92, 97 


442      VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL    WAR 


COL 

Colchester,  siege  of,  ii.  338,  339 
Coleman,  Bess,  ii.  17,  177 
Colet,  Dean,  i.  43 
Commons,  House  of,  description 

of,    i.    337-339 ;   discipline  of, 

i.  340,  341,  343 
Conway,  Sir  Edward,  1st  Lord,  i. 

172 

Conway,  General,  i.  333,  334 
Conyers,  Sir  John,  i.  172 
Cooke,    of  Gloucester,    M.P.,  ii. 

264 

Cooke,  Henry,  M.P.,  ii.  264 
Cooke,  Sir  John,  ii.  234 
Cordell,  Mr.,  ii.  264 
Cork,   Richard  Boyle,   the  great 

Earl  of,  i.  195,  196,  206,  207  ; 

ii.  47,  202 
Cottington,    Francis    Cottington, 

1st  Lord,  i.  65,  66,  114 
Covenant,    the    Solemn    League 

and,  ii.  162,  163,  164,  166,  263 
Cowley,    Abraham,    the  poet,    i. 

120,  325 

Crag,  Dr.,  ii.  176 
Cranfield,  Vincent,  i.  101 
Craven,  Lord,  i.  187,  188 
Crewe,  Sir  Randal,  i.  61 
Crofts,  Sir  Henry,  ii.  153 
Crofts,  Lady,  i.  245 
Crofts,  Hester,  ii.  153 
Crofts,  Mrs.,  i.  245 
Cromwell,   Oliver,   i.   36,   37,  74, 

75,    104  ;  ii.    27,   30,   48,    111, 

117,  192,  194,   195,  335,   343, 

344,  345,  346,  347,  395,  410,  426 
Crowther,  Rev.  John,  an  Oxford 

tutor,' i.    117,   118,    122,    123, 

124,  163,  164,  165  ;  ii.  8 
Culpepper,  Sir  John,  i.  110  ;  ii.  28 
Culpepper,  Colonel  Sir  Thomas,  i. 

169,  170,  171,  177  ;  ii.  102 


DACRE,  Lady,  ii.  250 
Danvers,    Anne,    of    Corn- 
bury,  i.  248 

Danvers,  Beatrice,  i.  39 
Darrell,  Paule,  i.  49 
Denham,  Lady,  of  Boarstall,  i.  115 
Denton,  family  of,   ii.    189,   200  ; 
see  also  Hillesden 


DEN 

Denton,  Sir  Alexander,  i.  74,  165, 
291,  344  ;  ii.  167,  189, 191,  194- 
197,  200-205,  252,  320,  396,  435 

Denton,  Elizabeth,  married  to 
Frank  Drake,  ii.  314 

Denton,  George,  son  of  Sir  Alex- 
ander, ii.  8 

Denton,  John,  a  lawyer  brother 
of  Sir  Alexander,  ii.  199,  314, 
331,  358,  364,  435 

Denton,  Colonel  John,  son  of  Sir 
Alexander,  ii.  190,  200,  201 

Denton,  John,  husband  of  Pene- 
lope Verney,  ii.  351,  364,  365, 
366,  387 

Denton,  Margaret,  wife  of  Sir 
Edward  Verney  ;  see  Verney, 
Dame  Margaret 

Denton,  Margaret,  sister  of  Sir 
Alexander  ;  see  Pulteney,  Eure, 
Sherard 

Denton,  Margaret,  Lady  Smith, 
daughter  of  Sir  Alexander,  ii. 
199,  202,  203 

Denton,  Mary  Hampden,  Lady, 
wife  of  Sir  Alexander,  ii.  190, 
199,  200 

Denton,  Penelope,  Mrs.  John,  ii. 
351,  352,  353,  354,  364,  365, 
366,  367,  368,  371,  392 

Denton,  Susan  Temple,  Lady, 
mother  of  Sir  Alexander,  i.  74, 
103,  233  ;  ii.  5,  190 

Denton,  Susan,  Mrs.  Abercrom- 
bie,  sister  of  Sir  Alexander,  ii. 
190,  199,  200 

Denton,  Sir  Thomas,  father  of  Sir 
Alexander,  i.  73,  88,  89  ;  ii.  9, 
189 

Denlon,  Dr.  William,  brother  of 
Sir  Alexander,  i.  74,  117,  122, 
294,  309,  313,  321,  323  ;  ii.  75, 
77, 157, 175,  190,  238,  240,  247, 
248,  250,  251,  264,  265,  268, 
271,  272,  274,  277,  280,  295, 
297,  298,  302,  303,  305,  312, 
314,  316,  318,  323,  327,  332, 
343,  362,  366,  389,  392,  397, 
404,  405,  406,  408,  410,  421, 
422,  423,  435 

Denton,  Mrs.  William,  widow  of 
Mr.  Bert,  ii.  314,  318,  377,  384 


INDEX 


443 


DEN 

Denton,  Anne,  daughter  of  Dr. 

William  Denton,  ii.  280,  318 
Dering,  Sir  Edward,  ii.  28 
Devereux,  Sir  Walter,  i.  31 
Devonshire,  Countess  of,  wife  of 

1st  Earl  of,  i.  252,  253,  262 
Devonshire,   William  Cavendish, 

3rd  Earl  of,  ii.  236,  237,  241 
D^Ewes,  Sir  Simon,  i.  338,  341 
Digby,  Lord,  i.  70 
Digby,  Sir  Kenelm,  i.  101, 121, 220 
Digby,  Venetia,  Lady,  i.  220 
Dillon,  Hon.   James,  i.   102,  134, 
215  ;    visits   to   Claydon,    216, 
217  ;     friendship     with      Doll 
Leeke,  i.    216,   217,  218,  222, 
235  ;    Irish    land    schemes,    i. 
229  ;  marriage  with  Strafford's 
sister,  i.    231,   234,  236,  237  ; 
becomes  Earl  of   Roscommon, 
239  ;  dies  at  Paris,  239  ;  men- 
tioned, ii.  3,  8,  10,  267,  324 
Dillon,  Lord,  i.  234 
Dixon,  a  servant,  ii.  173 
Doddershall,  ii.  196 
Dormer,  Sir  Fleetwood,  i.  161 
Dorset,  Edward  Sackvile,  4th  Earl 

of,  ii.  103,  248 
Downe,  Countess  of,  ii.  410 
Drake,    Francis,    M.P.,    i.    298, 
318,    344;    ii.    244,    249,   262, 
304,  308,  314,  395 
Drake,  Sir  John,  ii.  425 
Drogheda,  siege  of,  ii.  344-347 
Duckett,  Mr.,  servant  to  Charles 

I.,  ii.  400 

Dudley's  conspiracy,  i.  54 
Dungarvan,  Lewis  Boyle,  Lord,  i. 

201  ;  ii.  44,  45,  47 
Dunluce,  Randal  Macdonnell,  Vis- 
count, i.  315 
Dutton,  Mrs.,  Sir  John  Reynolds's 

daughter,  ii.  386 
Dutton,  Sir  Ralph,  i.  193 
Dyeale,  Lord,  i.  308,  309 


EARLE,  Sir  Walter,   M.P.,  ii. 
166 
Edgehill,   battle  of,    ii.  71,  113- 

124,  264,  343 
Education  of  children,  i.  69,  70, 


FAU 

117,  118,  119,  156,  157,  158, 

159,  164,  181  ;  ii.   5,   21,  177, 

231,  283,  284,  292,  310,  373, 383 
Edward  IV.,  i.  38,  39 
Edwards,  Thomas,  ii.  26 
'Eikon  Basilike,'  ii.  402,  412 
Eliot,  Sir  John,  i.  331 ;  ii.  22,  90, 

92,  94,  95 
Elizabeth,  Queen  of  Bohemia,  i. 

54,  58,  186,  187,  189,  397 
Elizabeth,  Queen,  i.    54,   60,   64, 

80,  241  ;  '  Queen  E.'s  rodd'  in 

Ireland,  ii.  46,  324 
Elizabeth  of  York,  i.  33,  44,  45,  47 
Elmes,  Margaret,  Lady,  daughter 

of  Sir  Edward  Verney,  ii.  246, 

332,  359,   360,   361,  362,  373, 

380,  381,  382,  387,  389,  423 
Elmes,  Sir  Thomas,  ii.  332,  360, 

361,  362,  364,   370,  371,  372, 

378,  379,  380,  387,  407 
Epitaphs,  ii.  7 
Essex,  Elizabeth  Paulet,  Countess 

of,  i.  131,  132 
Essex,  Earl  of,  i.  90,  132,   265, 

353 ;  ii.  64,  88,  94,  96, 107,  111, 

112,  115,  119,  151,  273 
Eure,  Honble.  Colonel  William,  i. 

281,  283,  286,   287,  288,   289, 

291,  292,  293 
Eure,  Lieut.,  i.  333 
Eure,  Lord,  i.  281,  289,  291,  295 
Eure,    Margaret    Denton,    Hon. 

Mrs.,   i.    281-296  ;  ii.    85,    86, 

90,  96,  187,  246,  247,  253,  265, 

315,  330,  360  ;  see  also  Pulteney 

and  Sherard 
Eure,      Margaret      and      Mary, 

daughters  of  Mrs.  Eure,  i.  291, 

295  ;  ii.  226,  315 
Evelyn,  John,  i.  239,  248 


FAGE,  Mr.,  ii.  149 
Fairfax,    Thomas,    3rd  Vis- 
count, ii.  244,  335,  338 
Falkland,  Viscount,  i.   120,   345, 
354,  357  ;  ii.  27,  104,  112,  426 
Fanshawe,  Mr.,  ii.  264 
Farrant,  ii.  21 
Faulkner,  Magdalen,  i.  200,  209, 


444      VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING   THE    CIVIL   WAR 


FEN 

211,  212,  227  ;  ii.  52,  53,   54, 
55,  136,  267  ;  see  also  Bruce 
Fenton,  Lady,  ii.  43 
Fermanagh,        Mary        Verney, 

Baroness,  i.  16,  18 
Fermanagh,    Sir    John    Verney, 

Viscount,  i.  329  ;  ii.  218,  266 
Fielding,  Lady  Mary,  i.  11 
Fiennes,  James,  ii.  168,  315 
Fiennes,  Hon.  Nathaniel,  M.P., 

i.  340,  344,  395 
Fiennes,  Cecilia,  i.  10 
Finmere,  i.  30 

Fitzroy,    Lady   Charlotte,    after- 
wards Countess  of  Lichfield,  i. 
249 
Fleet  Prison,   ii.   148,    363,  369, 

370,  384 

Flood,  Lieut.,  i.  173 
Fortescue,  Sir  Faithful,  i.  237 
Fortescue,  M.P.,  of  Salden,  i.  97 
Foss,      John,     a     merchant     of 

Nantes,  ii.  403 
Fountain,  John,  ii.  170,  187 
Francis,  — ,  Sergeant-at-Arms,  ii. 

34,  35 

Franklin,  Sir  John,  ii.  166 
Freake,  Mr.  and  Mrs. ,  ii.  267 
Fudd,  Nan,  the  nurse  at  Claydon, 
ii.  175,  176,  177,  265,  379,  382 
Funerals,  Lord  Bray's,  i.  57  ;  2nd 
Sir  Edward   Verney's,   i.    59  ; 
Earl  of  Sussex's,  i.  268  ;  Dame 
Margaret  Verney's,  ii.  14,  20  ; 
sermon   for    '  ould   Lady  Ver- 
ney's,'  ii.  4 ;    Susan  Alport's, 
ii.  386,  387  ;  Dame  Mary  Ver- 
ney's, ii.  422,  423 
Futter,  Captain,  i.  152 


GAPE,  Mr.  W.,  apothecary,  ii. 
314,  408 

Gape,  Mrs.,  ne'e  Bert,  Dr.  Den- 
ton's  stepdaughter,  ii.  314 

Gardiner,  Gary,  Lady,  i.  344  ;  ii. 
58  ;  married,  59-61 ;  ii.  94,  187, 
350,  370,  371,  372,  373,  374, 
376,  379 

Gardiner,  Lady,  mother-in-law  to 
Gary,  ii.  62,  68,  72,  75,  77 

Gardiner,  Sir  Thomas,  Recorder 


HAM 

of  London,  i.  343  ;  ii.  59,   60, 

62,  64,76,  77 
Gardiner,  Captain  Sir  Thomas,  i. 

344  ;  ii.  59,  61,  63,  187,  333 
Gardiner,  Mary,  Maid  of  Honour 

to  Henrietta  Maria,  ii.  68,  333, 

334 
Gaudy,  Lady  Vere,  i.  14,  106  ; 

ii.  302,  428 

Gerard,  Sir  George,  ii.  395 
Gerard,  M.P.,  ii.  239 
Gibbons,  Orlando,  ii.  21 
Giffards,    lease   Claydon,    i.    19  ; 

monuments  of  Roger  and  his 

wife,  i.  22  ;  of  Alexander  Anne, 

i.  22  ;  of  Urian  and  Lettice,  i. 

24 

Giffard,  Captain  John,  i.  64,  65 
Giffard,  Sir  George,  i.  50,  64 
Gilpin,  Rev.,  Rector  of  Albury,  ii. 

4 
Glamorgan,    Edward     Somerset, 

Earl  of,  ii.  323 
Glyn,  Mr.,  i.  350 
Godbeit,  Monsieur,  ii.  253 
Goodge,  Rev.  Dr.,  ii.  165 
Goodwin,  Colonel,  ii.  95 
Goring,  Lord,  i.  70,  172,  190 
Goring,  Mr.,  i.  317  ;  ii.  -106 
Graham,  Sir  R.,  i.  75 
Grandison,  Lord,  i.  131 
Gray,  Lord,  ii.  154,  156,  337 
Greenwich  Park,  i.  15 
Grey,  Lord  Arthur,  i.  195 
Grey,  Lord,  of  Ruthin,  ii.  166 
Grimston,  Sir  Harbottle,  i.  254, 

331,  344 
Guildford,  Lady  Frances,  daughter 

of  Lord  Downe,  i.  248 
Guitar,  ii.  184,  242,  284 


TTABINGTON'S  <Castara,'ii.  13 
XI     Hackney-coaches,    i.    109  ; 

ii.  246 
Hair,    i.   99,   159,    160 ;  ii.    233, 

234 
Hals,  Bridget  Leeke,  Mrs.,  i.  197, 

202,  205  ;  see  Badnage 
Hals,  Captain,  i.  201,  202 
Hamilton,      James       Hamilton, 

Duke  of,  ii.  335,  336,  337 


INDEX 


445 


HAM 

Hainpden,  Sir  Alexander,  ii.  189, 

190 

Hampden,  John,  i.  97,  339,  340, 
354  ;  ii.  29,  117,  189,  190,  425 
Hampden,   Mary,  ii.  8;  see  Den- 
ton,  Mary 
Harberte,  Mr. ,  servant  to  Charles 

I.,  ii.  400 

Harley,  Lady  Brilliana,  i.  332,  358 
Harrison,  the  historian  of  Queen 

Elizabeth's  reign,  quoted,  i.  2 
Harvey,  Dr.,  ii.  113 
Hastings,  Sir  Richard,  i.  239 
Hatcher,  Mr.,  ii.  412 
Hazelrigg,  Sir  Arthur,  i.  340 
Henderson,  Alexander,  ii.  165 
Henrietta  Maria,  i.  107,  109,  353, 
358  ;   ii.  12,  13,  22,  23,  24,  25, 
93, 106,  215,  331,  333,  334,  402, 
425 

Henry  VII.,  i.  44,  50 
Henry,  Prince  of  Wales,  i.  33,  70, 

71,  104,  300  ;  ii.  18 
Henslow,     Mrs.  ;    see     Uvedale, 

Anne 
Herbert,  Sir  Edward  and  Lady,  i. 

134  ;  ii.  60,  245 
Herbert,  Mrs.  ;  see  Gary 
Hermit  of  Finmere,  i.  30 
Hertford,  William  Seymour,  Mar- 
quis of,  ii.  107,  108 
Hewitt,  Sir  Thomas,  ii.  221 
Hewitt,  Sir  William,  ii.  215 
Hillesden   Church,    ii.  188,   189, 

193,  200,  209 

Hillesden  House,  i.  36,  74,  76,  84, 
88,  103  ;  ii.  3,  5,  175, 188,  189, 
191,  193,  194,  197,  208,  209 
Hinton,  Sir  Edmund's  groom,  ii. 

130 

Hoare,    Mr.   William,    '  an   ordi- 
nary grazier,'  married  to  Mrs. 
Allcock,  ii.  291,  378 
Hobart,    Anne    Leeke,    Lady,  i. 

197  ;  ii.  181,  187,  214,  302 
Hobart,  Frances,  i.  11 
Hobart,  Sir  Henry,  i.  197 
Hobart,    Sir  Miles,   M.P.,  i.  54, 

95,  97 

Hobart,  Sir  Nathaniel,  i.  13, 
106,  187,  197,  199,  200  ;  ii.  11, 
181,  187,  214 


JAM 

Holinshed,  i.  2. 

Holland,    Henry  Rich,    Earl,   i. 

310,   311,   320,   321,    322;    ii. 

256,  257 
Holland,   Rev.    William,    Rector 

of  Malpas,  ii.  386,  387 
Hollis,  Denzil,  M.P.,  ii.  34,  35, 

37,  115,  352,  353,  426 
Homwood,  Captain,  i.  324 
Hotham,  Sir  John,  ii.  22,  33,  86 
Housekeeping  at  Claydon,  i.  10  ; 

value  of  linen,  i.  10,  153,  253  ; 

11.  17,  18  ;    preserving,  &c. ,  i. 

12,  13 ;  coffee,  tea,  and  choco- 
late introduced,  i.  13  ;  meat,  i. 
8  ;  ii.    225  ;  vegetables,    i.    8  ; 
wine,  ii.  230,  231,  405  ;    furni- 
ture, i.  5,  6,  15,  16,  255,  256, 
285,   300,  371 ;  needlework,  i. 

10,  11,  253 ;   ii.  227,  231,  356, 
371,  384  ;    in  London  lodgings, 

11.  246,  253  ;    at  Blois,  ii'.  230  ; 
groceries   and    stores,    ii.   232, 
285,  411  ;  good  French  cooking 
for  an  invalid,  412 

Howard,  Sir  William,  i.  79 
Hunt,  Colonel,  i.  144 
Hutchinson,  Colonel,  i.   100  ;  ii. 

426 

Hyde,  Mrs.,  ii.  281,  410 
Hyde,  i.  102,  117,  344,  354  ;  ii.  27, 

29,  30,  95,  426  ;  see  Clarendon, 

Earl  of 
Hynde,  Sir  Francis,  i.  24 

TNCHIQUIN,    Murrough 

1     O'Brien,  1st  Earl  of,  ii.  48 

Inchiquin,  Lady,  ii.  42 

Influenza,  'the  new  disease,' ii. 
171 

Isham,  Elizabeth  Denton.  Mrs., 
i.  167,  292  ;  ii.  156,  175,  176, 
190,  196,  200,  203,  206,  208, 
248,  252,  373,  374,  376,  377, 419 

Isham,  Thomas,  of  Pitchley,  i. 
298  ;  ii.  93,  190,  200,  206,  208 

Iwardby,  Margaret,  i.  47. 

TAMES  I.,  i.  81,  85,  86,  93,  221 
tl      James,  Duke  of  York,  ii.  113, 

427 


446      VERNEY  FAMILY   DURING  THE   CIVIL  WAR 


JAN 

Jansen,  Cornelius,  i.  99,  221,  227, 
242,  313  ;  see  Notes  on  the  Illus- 
trations, vol.  i. 

Jepson,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  ii.  42,  44, 
49 

Jermyn,  Harry,  i.  245,  355  ;  ii. 
12 

Jones,  Colonel  Michael,  ii.  343, 
344 

Joyce,  George,  Cornet,  ii.  268 

Joyce,  Mr. ,  a  minister,  ii.  415 

Juxon,  William,  Bishop  of 
London,  i.  109 


T7ILNALMECHY,  Lady,  ii.  42, 
l\     45,  47  ;  Lord,  49 
Kimbclton,  Lord,  i.  356 
King's  Evil,  ii.  12 
King's  Langley,  i.  49 
Kingston,  Sir  Anthony,  i.  54 
Kirton,  Dr.,  ii.  332,  333,  338,  403 
Knightley,  Mr.,  ii.  305 


I  ACE-MAKING    in  Bucks,  i. 
1     11 

Lady-helps,  i.    11  ;   see  Faulkner 

and  Sheppard 

Lane,  Thomas,  M.P.,  i.  329 
Laud,    William,    Archbishop    of 

Canterbury,    i.     109,    127  ;  ii. 

204,  222 
Lavington,   Samuel,    Sir  Ralph's 

servant,,  ii.  174 
Lawes,  Henry,  poet  and  musician, 

ii.  244 
Lee,  Anne,  daughter  of  Sir  Harry 

Lee  and  Lady   Sussex,  i.  252  ; 

ii.  251,  254,  256,  257 
Lee,  1st  Sir  Harry,  Kt.  of  Wood- 
stock, i.  42,  241 
Lee,  2nd  Sir  Harry,  1st  Bart. ,  i. 

242,  252 
Lee,  3rd  Sir  Harry,  2nd  Bart. ,  i. 

245,  247,  248,  326 
Lee,  4th  Sir  Harry,  3rd  Bart.,  i. 

248 
Lee,  Sir  Edward,  created  Earl  of 

Lichfield,  i.  249 
Lee,  Lady,  daughter  of  Sir  John 

St.  John  of  Lydyard,    i.  246  ; 


LYT 

married  to  Lord  Wilmot,  247  ; 

ii.  95 
Lee,  Lady  Elizabeth,  daughter  of 

Lord   Downe,   i.  248  ;  marries 

Earl  of  Lindsey,  249 
Leeke,  Dorothy,  i.  101,  113,  197, 

235,  292  ;  ii.  99,  129,  160,  187, 

213,  214,  248,  302,  322 
Leeke,  Sir  John,  i.  58,  197,  201, 

203,  235  ;  ii.  42,  44,  48,  50,  51, 

56, 172, 175,  324,  352,  355,  356, 

358,  304 

Legge,  Colonel,  ii.  110 
Leicester,  Robert  Sidney,  Earl  of, 

ii.  41,  49 
Lenthall,    William,    Speaker    of 

House  of  Commons,  i.  344  ;  ii. 

346,  347 
Lenthall,    Sir   John,    i.    344 ;  ii. 

303 
Leslie,  General    Alexander,  Earl 

of  Leven,  i.  179,  314 
Lewis,  Sir  William,  ii.  167 
Libb,  Mary  Blacknall's  guardian, 

i.  115;  Mrs.,  i.  117 
Lichfield,  Earl  of  ;  see   Lee,  Sir 

Edward 
Lindsey,  Elizabeth  Lee,  Countess 

of,  i.  249 
Lindsey,  Robert  Bertie,  1st  Earl 

of,  ii.  112,  119 
Lisle,   Sir    George,  ii.  338,   340, 

341 
Lithgow,    William,   travels  of,  i. 

67,  68 
Lloyd,  David,  author  of  '  Lloyd's 

Worthies/  i.  70 ;  ii.  115,  127 
Lloyd,     Robert,    of    Chester,    ii. 

390  ;  his  son,  Captain  Verney- 

Lloyd,  ii.  390 
Lothian,    Lord,    son  of  Earl    of 

Ancram,  i.  179 
Loughborough,  Henry  Hastings, 

Lord,  ii.  385 
Love,  Mr.,  ii.  206 
Lucas,  Sir  Charles,  ii.  338,  340 
Ludlow,  Sir  Heniy,  ii.  171 
Luke,  Sir  James,  ii.  122 
Luke,  Sir  Samuel,  ii.  191, 192,  194 
Lunsford,  Colonel,  i.  334 
Lyttelton,  Lord,  Lord-Keeper,  ii. 

89,  105 


INDEX 


MAI 

r AID-SERVANTS,  ii.  10, 177, 
225,  22G,  228,  229  ;  nurse, 
269,  293,  294  ;  see  Fudd  and 
Sheppard 

Malpas  Church,  ii.  385,  387 

Manord,  an  Irish  squire  calling 
himself  Sir  William,  i.  21 1 

Margaret,  daughter  of  Henry 
VlL,  i.  45,  46 

Marlow,  Great,  i.  329 

Marriage,  early,  ii.  6,  7,  22  ; 
negotiations  for,  and  settle- 
ments, i.  113,  115,  116,  117, 
243,  251,  274,  276,  277,  280, 
284 ;  ii.  349-357  ;  feast,  ii. 
314 

Marshalsea,  the  prison,  i.  40, 138  ; 
Appendix  to  Vol.  i.  ;  ii.  313 

Martin,  i.  352 

Mary,  daughter  of  Henry  VII., 
i.  46 

Mary,  Queen,  i.  53,  54,  55,  56, 
57,  85 

Mary,  daughter  of  Charles  I., 
Princess  of  Orange,  i.  264  ;  ii. 

22,  24,  25 

Massey,  Colonel  Edward,  ii.  394 
Maurice,  Prince,  ii.  171 
Maxwell,  Mr.,  i.  350 
Mayerne,    Sir    Theodore,    Court 

Physician,  ii.  23,  106,  263 
'  May,  Mr.,  the  poet,'  ii.  273 
Meautis,  Sir  Thomas,  i.  254  ;  ii. 

103 
Meautis,     Anne     Bacon,     Lady, 

afterwards  Lady   Grimston,    i. 

254 
Medicine  and  sickness,  i.  12,  167, 

250  ;  for  gout,  10  ;  cancer,  288  ; 

mineral  waters,  i.  225,  263  ;  ii. 

23,  24,  404  ;  ii.  176,  250,  270, 
271,   273,  288,  295,    316,  411, 
412,  413  ;  see  Small-pox 

Middlesex,  Lord,  i.  101 
Middleton,  Sir  Thomas,  i.  251 
Mildmay,  Henry,  M. P.,  ii.  145, 

437 
Mildmay,  Mr. ,  servant  to  Charles 

I.,  ii.  400 

Militia,  list  of  gentlemen  to  com- 
mand the,  ii.  39 
Misterton,    in    Leicestershire,   i. 


OEM 

276,  292,  293;  ii.  278,  291, 
330 

Misterton,  Aunt ;  see  Eure 

Monmouth,  Lady,  ii.  95,  105,  151 

Moray,  "Mr.  -  -  of  the  Bed- 
chamber," afterwards  Sir  Rich- 
ard, i.  200 

More,  Sir  Thomas,  i.  4  ;  ii.  169 

More,  Lady,  sister  of  Earl  of  Sun- 
derland,  ii.  345 

Morley,  George,  Bishop  of  Win- 
chester, ii.  79 

Morocco,  Emperor  of,  i.  63 

Moss,  Mr.,  ii.  180 

Mountgarett,  Lord,  and  the  But- 
lers, ii.  44,  45,  46,  49 

Mourning,  i.  268,  293  ;  ii.  15,  16, 
128,  400,  402,  403 

Munster,  i.  196,  208  ;  ii.  41,  48 

Murray,  P.,  i.  71 

Muskerry,  Donough  McCarthy, 
Viscount,  brother-in-law  to 
Ormonde,  ii.  51 

Music,  church,  ii.  21,  22 ;  see 
Guitar 


NALSON'S  MSS.,  431 
Newcastle,   William  Caven- 
dish, Earl  of,  afterwards  Mar- 
quis, i.  322 

Newport  Pagnell,  ii.  193 

Newton,  Sir  Henry  Puckering, 
ii.  223,  343,  393,  403,  404,  405, 
411 

Northumberland,  Algernon  Percy, 
10th  Earl  of,  i.  172,  264,  332 

Norwich,  Sir  John,  ii.  170 

Nursery  rule,  severity  of,  ii.  6 

Nursery  spoiling,  ii.  292 

Nye,  Philip,  ii.  165 


OGILVY,  Mr.,  a  Royalist  exile, 
ii.  222,  392 
Olivarez,  i.  81 
O'Neill,  Daniel,  ii.  341 
Orange,    William,    Prince    of,    i. 
183,  189,  264,  339,  350  ;  ii.  22 
Ormonde,  James  Butler,  Marquis 
of,  i.  239  ;  ii.  46,  139,  321-332, 
335,  336,  342-347,  391,  410 


448      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 


OBM 

Ormonde,  Marchioness  of,  daugh- 
ter of  Sir  John  Poyntz,  ii.  44, 
336,  343 

Osborn,  Lady,  ii.  387,  427  ;  see 
Verney,  Penelope ;  Denton, 
Penelope 

Osborn,  Sir  John,  ii.  387,  392 

Osborne,  Sir  John,  afterwards 
Duke  of  Leeds,  ii.  392 

Overton  Manor,  Cheshire,  ii.  385 

Oxford  colleges,  i.  118,  160, 161  ; 
ii.  4,  95 

Oxford,  Aubrey  de  Vere,  20th 
and  last  Earl  of,  ii.  155 

T)ALMER,  Mrs.,  nee  Gardiner, 

i      ii.  61,  70 

Palmes,  Francis,  i.  322 

Palmes,  William,  of  Lindley, 
Yorkshire,  i.  295 

Parker,  Henry,  ii.  211,  213 

Parry,  Mr.,  ii.  5,  6 

Parsons,  William,  ii.  42,  130 

Peckham,  Dorothy,  i.  52 

Peckham,  Henry,  i.  54,  55 

Pelham,  Henry,  M.P.,  ii.  246 

Pembroke,  Philip  Herbert,  4th 
Earl  of,  i.  102,  297,  313 

Penley,  i.  46,  50,  58 

Percy,  Henry  Percy,  Lord,  i.  355 

Pierrepoint,  William,  M.P.,  ii. 
179,  304,  311,  392 

Pigott,  Sir  Richard,  of  Dodders- 
hall  ;  ii.  90,  256 

Plague,  the,  in  1636,  ii.  10,  11 

Pole,  Cardinal,  i.  44 

Pole,  Eleanor,  i.  44 

Pole,  Sir  Richard,  i.  44 

Poles,  tombs  of,  i.  49 

Poly,  Mrs.,  ii.  82 

Poole,  Mrs.,  sister  of  Lord 
Shrewsbury,  ii.  386 

Pope,  Lady  Elizabeth  ;  see  Lee, 
Lady  Elizabeth 

Portland,  Duke  of,  his  manu- 
scripts ;  Appendix,  vol.  i.  ;  ii. 
145,  399 

Poyntz,  Sir  Nicolas,  i.  24 

Poyntz,  Sedenham,  Major-Gene- 
ral, ii.  322 

Preston,  Mr.,  servant  to  Charles 
I.,  ii.  400 


ROC 

Preswell,  Mr.,  a  silk  mercer,  ii. 

414 
Prynne,    William,    i.    223,    224, 

225,  344,  395 
Pulteney,     John,     of    Misterton, 

Leicestershire,  i.  276,  277 
Pulteney,  Margaret  Deiiton,  Mrs. , 

i.  167,  185,  276-280  ;  see  Eure 

and  Sherard 
Pye,   Sir  Robert,   auditor  of  the 

receipt  of  the  Exchequer,  ii.  191 
Pye,    Colonel,    Sir   Robert    Pye, 

Jun.,  M.P.,  married  to  Anne, 

daughter  of  Hampden,  ii.  191 
Pym,  John,   M.P.,    i.   331,  340, 

345,  347,  348,  351,  353,  354; 

ii.  34,  35,  37,  426 


QUAINTON  Manor,  i.  62,  69, 
196 

Quainton  Seech,  i.  37,  47 
Quarles,  '  Emblems,'  ii.  170 


T)ADCLIFFE    Church,    Bucks, 
It     ii.  417 

Radcliffe,  Sir  George,  i.  228,  229, 
230  236 

Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  i.  8,  64,  222 

Raleigh,  Dame  Margaret,  i.  39 

Remonstrance,  the  Grand,  ii.  25, 
27,  28,  33,  34 

Rents  of  land,  i.  129,  130 

Reynolds,  Robert,  M.P.,  ii.  164 

Richmond,  James  Stuart,  Duke 
of,  ii.  401 

Rings,  Charles  I.'s  Memorial,  i. 
262,  299  ;  ii.  9,  18 

Ripon,  i.  336 

Roades,  or  Rhodes,  John,  steward 
at  Claydon,  i.  298 

Roades,  William,  steward  at  Clay- 
don, i.  100,  129,  298  ;  ii.  18, 
198,  238,  246,  247,  263,  269, 
270,  273,  275,  287,  283,  290, 
302,  309,  313,  320,  32 f,  372, 
375,  409 

Robartes,  John  Robartes,  or  Ro- 
berts, 2nd  Lord,  afterwards 
Earl  of  Radnor,  i.  264 

Roch,  Lord,  ii.  49,  54,  55 


INDEX 


ROC 

Roch,  Mr.,  ii.  138 

Rochester,    Wilmot,    Earl   of,    i. 

248,  270 

Rodes'  Ralph  R.'s  wife,  ii.  293 
Rolt,  Mr.  Walter,  ii.  71,  72 
Roper,    Captain    Christopher,  ii. 

130 
Ropier,  brother  to  Lord  Ropier, 

ii.  345 

Roscommon,  2nd  Earl  of,  i.  215 
Roscommon,  James   Dillon,    3rd 

Earl  of  ;  see  Dillon,  James 
Roscommon,  Wentworth,  4th  Earl 

of,  i.  240 
Ruddier,  ii.  395 
Rudyard,   Sir  Benjamin,  i.   125  ; 

ii.  29 
Rupert,  Prince,  ii.  97,  111,   115, 

151,  1GO,  162 
Rushworth,  ii.  35,  84,  97 
Russell,  Lord,  i.  131 
Russell,  Lady  Rachel,  ii.  12 
Ruthven,  Lord,  ii.  114 


OACRAMEXTS,    the,   adminis- 
O     tration  of,  Baptism,  ii.  259  ; 

the  Communion,   ii.   259,   260, 

387,  417 

St.  Albans,  i.  254  ;  ii.  153,  154 
St.  Barbe  ;  nee  Blakeney,   Mary, 

and  Verney,  Ursula 
St.  John,  Sir  John,  i.  245,  247 
St.  John,  Lady,  i.  249 
St.  John,  Oliver,  Solicitor-Gene- 
ral,  i.   332,   350 ;  ii.    59,   145, 

166,  168,  426,  433-436 
St.  Leger,  Lady,  ii.  42 
Salisbury,    William     Cecil,     2nd 

Earl  of,    i.  62,    185;   ii.    145, 

437 

Sandys,  Mr.,  i.  76 
Saye  and  Sele,  William  Fiennes, 

Viscount,  i.  135,  305,   353  ;  ii. 

95,  113,  145,  437 
Scott,  Sir  Gilbert,  i.  20 
Scott,  M.P.,  ii.  218 
Scrope,  Adrian,  i.  330 
Scudamore,  of  Home  Lacy,  i.  121, 

note 

Scudamore,  Lord,  ii.  103 
Selden,  M.P.,  ii.  304 

VOL.  II. 


SUS 

Sheppard,  Luce,  i.  295  ;  ii.  225- 
230,  265 

Sherard,  Honourable  Philip,  Cap- 
tain, i.  294,  295 

Sherard,  Margaret  Denton, 
Honourable  Mrs. ,  i.  14,  294  ;  ii. 
278,  281,  392,  406  ;  see  Eure, 
Pulteney 

Skippon,  Philip,  ii.  394 

Small-pox,  i.  245,  246,  252,  324  ; 
ii.  214,  413 

Smith,  an  alias  for  English  refu- 
gees, ii.  182 

Smith,  Sir  John,  Captain, 
knighted  at  Edgehill,  ii.  118 

Smith,  Colonel,  afterwards  Sir 
William,  ii.  191,  192,  193,  202, 
203 

Snatchpole,  Sir  Norton,  ii.  168 

Soldiers  quartered  in  private 
houses,  ii.  171,  172,  190,  196, 
278,  286,  287,  352,  389 

Southampton,  Thomas  Wriothes- 
ley,  Earl  of,  ii.  102 

Spencer,  Henry  Spencer,  Lord, 
ii.  104 

Stafford,  Sir  Thomas,  i.  190,  204 

Standard,  the  Royal,  ii.  95,  97 

Standard,  smaller  one  carried  at 
Edgehill,  ii.  115,  116,  118,  119 

Stanley,  Dr. ,  of  Winchester  School, 
i.  58 

Staplston,  Sir  Philip,  ii.  73 

Stewart,  Lord,  ii.  116 

Stonehouse,  Sir  George,  ii.  167 

Stratford,  Wentworth,  1st  Earl 
of,  i.  221,  223,  228,  232,  234, 
235,  236,  238,  329,  334,  338, 
344,  345,  347 

Stratford,  William  Wentworth, 
2nd  Earl  of,  ii.  392 

Strickland,  Sir  George,  daughter 
of,  i.  11 

Suckling,  Sir  John,  i.  355  ;  ii» 
334 

Sussex,  Elenor  Wortley,  Countess 
of,  i.  127  ;  marries  Sir  Harry 
Lee,  242  ;  marries  Earl  of 
Sussex,  242  ;  strong  Parlia- 
mentary sympathies,  243  ;  loses 
her  son,  246  ;  her  daughter 
Anne,  250  ;  death  of  her 

G  G 


450      VERNE Y   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL   WAR 


sus 

mother,  253  ;  painted  by  Van- 
dyck,  257  ;  marries  Earl  of 
Warwick  (see  Warwick,  Countess 
of,  mentioned),!.  101, 104,  108, 
121,  123,  151,  254,  255,  298, 
330,  343,  355,  356;  ii.  2,  12, 
15,  33,  38,  83,  85,  88,  93,  95, 
102,  148,  150,  151,  153,  154, 
157,  158,  180,  181,  183,  425 

Sussex,  George  Radcliffe,  6th  Earl 
of,  i.  228,  242,  243,  264,  265, 
268,  350  ;  ii.  15,  157,  160 

Sydenham,  Sir  Edward,  Knight- 
Marshal  in  succession  to  Sir 
Edward  Arerney,  i.  133,  181, 
186,  193  ;  ii:  156,  187,  309 

Sydenham.  Anne,  Lady,  i.  106, 
235 ;  ii.  99,  100,  118,  156,  187 

Sydenham,  Mrs.,  ii.  107 


HPALLIS,  Thomas,  ii.  21 
_l_    Temple,    Lady,    Dame  Den- 
ton's  mother,  ii.  5  note 
Temple,  Sir  John,  i.  320 
Temple,  Sir  Peter,  i.  74,  97 
Temple,  Sir  Richard,  ii.-  427 
Temples,  family  of,  i.  17 
Testard,  Mr.,  French  pasteur  at 

Blois,  ii.  232,  417 
Thomer,  a  French  servant,  ii.  215 
Thomond,    Henry    O'Brien,    5th 

Earl  of,  i.  204 
Thornborough,  i.  37 
Thorner,  Robert,  ii.  233 
Throgmorton,  John,  i.  55,  56 
Toleration  denounced,  ii.  26 
Tradescant,    John,    Charles    I.'s 

gardener,  i.  15  note 
Traquair,  John  Stuart,   Earl  of, 

i.  308 

Travers,  Jack,  ii.  47 
Trelawney,  — ,  ii.  399 
Trevor,  Mr.,  M.P.,  ii.  304,306 
T.  T.,  i.  342,  343 
Turks,  i.  63,  66,  226 
Turville  ;  see  Blakeney 
Tnrville,  Richard,  ii.  135 
Turville,  Thomas,  i.  133,  173,  181 
Twine,  '  a  Papist,'  ii.  105 
Tyerman,  Mr.,  ii.  105 


VER 

URSULA. ;  see  Verney,  Ursula  ; 
Clark  &  Chicheley,  i.  58 
Ussher,    Archbishop,    i.   94,   215, 

220   221 

Uvedale,  Sir  William,  i.  102,  131, 

132,  233,  313  ;  ii.  205,  398,  399 

Uvedale,    Anne,   Mrs.    Henslow, 

i.  225,  231,  232,  313  ;  ii.  102 
Uvedale,  Robert,  ii.  399 


T7ANDYCK,  Sir  Anthony,  i.  84, 
V     102,  125,  257,  258,  259,  260, 

261  ;  ii.  319 
Vane,  Sir  Harry,  i.  305,  340,  347, 

348  ;  ii.  166,  168 
Vaughan,  Sir  William,  ii.  343 
Vavasour,  Sir  Charles,  ii.  48,  51 
Velasquez,  i.  66,  184 
Vermuyden,    a    Dutch  engineer, 

i.  198, 199 
Verne,  Dr.,  Chaplain  to  Charles 

I.,  ii.  216 
Verneys,    Early  History  of,     1st 

Sir  Ralph  Lord  Mayor,  i.   38, 

39,  40,  327;  1st  Sir  John,  his 
son,   i.  40  ;  2nd  Sir  Ralph,  i. 
41,  42,  43,  46  ;  3rd  Sir  Ralph, 
46,  47,   48  ;    4th  Sir  Ralph,  i. 
49,   50  ;     1st   Sir  Edmund,    i. 
52,   54,    55,    57,    58  ;    1st    Sir 
Francis,   i.   53,  54,  55  ;  Urian, 
i.  24  ;  Emme,  widow  of  1st  Sir 
Ralph,   i.  39  ;  Margaret  Whit- 
tingham,  wife  of  1st  Sir  John,  i. 

40,  41,  42  ;  Eleanor  Pole,  wife 
of  2nd  Sir  Ralph,  i.  44,  45,  46, 
47  ;      Margaret     Iwardby,    1st 
wife  of  3rd  Sir  Ralph,   i.  47  ; 
Anne  Weston,  2nd  wife  of  do., 
i.  47,  48,  83  ;  Elizabeth  Brough- 
ton,   3rd    wife    of   do.,   i.    48  ; 
Elizabeth  Bray,  wife  of  4th  Sir 
Ralph,   i.   50  ;    Dorothy  Peck- 
ham,  wife  of  1st  Sir  Edmund,  i. 
52,   53  ;    Mary,  wife  of  Roger 
Giffard,  i.  22 

Verney,  2nd  Sir  Edmund,  father 
of  the  Standard-bearer,  i.  58, 
59  ;  ii.  4 

Verney,  Dame  Awdreye  (Carew), 
2nd  wife  of  2nd  Sir  Edmund,  i.  58 


INDEX 


451 


VER 

Verney,  Dame  Mary  (B'akeney), 
3rd  wife  of  2nd  Sir  Edmund, 
mother  of  the  Standard-bearer, 
i.  58 ;  formerly  married  to 
Geoffrey  Turville,  i.  58,  and  to 
St.  Barbe,  i.  58;  lawsuit  with 
her  stepson,  i.  61,  62  ;  lives  in 
Drury  Lane,  i.  69,  73  ;  i.  221  ; 
ii.  3,  10;  her  death,  ii.  4 

Verney,  2nd  Sir  Francis,  half- 
brother  to  the  Standard-bearer, 
i.  58,  59,  60  ;  disputes  his 
father's  will,  62  ;  goes  to  Pales- 
tine, 62  ;  fights  for  the  Emperor 
of  Morocco,  63,  64,  65  ;  a  noted 
pirate,  65  ;  dies  at  Messina,  67, 
68 ;  ii.  423 

Verney,  Dame  Ursula  (St.  Barbe), 
wife  of  2nd  Sir  Francis,  i.  58, 
63  ;  marries  Mr.  Clark,  i.  69  ; 
marries  John  Chicheley,  i.  69 ; 
her  death,  i.  69  ;  ii.  408,  423 

Verney,  3rd  Sir  Edmund,  Knight- 
Marshal  and  Standard-bearer, 
his  birth,  i.  59  ;  education,  69  ; 
Chief  Sewer  to  Prince  Henry, 
70 ;  in  Prince  Charles'  house- 
hold, 72  ;  his  marriage,  72  ; 
Lieut,  of  Whadden  Chase,  75, 
76  ;  in  Spain  with  Charles,  78, 
80,  81 ;  returned  to  Parliament, 
84,  85,  89  ;  Knight-Marshal, 
85  ;  his  religious  opinions,  94, 
98,  99 ;  his  large  family,  103  ; 
his  clothes,  107,  108,  ii.  ;  his 
patent  for  hackney-coaches,  i. 
J09  ;  the  Alnage,  111  ;  ii.  433  ; 
arranges  his  son's  marriage,  i. 
113 ;  his  management  of  Clay- 
don,  128  ;  Sir  W.  Uvedale's 
second  in  a  duel,  132  ;  his  advice 
to  his  sons,  152,  162  ;  his  Irish 
friends,  195  ;  his  friendship 
with  the  Lees  and  Lady  Sussex, 
241  ;  his  indignation  at  a 
popish  marriage,  283  ;  goes  to 
Scotland  with  the  King,  297, 
300,  311-326;  in  Parlia- 
ment, 329,  336;  his  wife's 
death,  ii.  1  ;  marries  his 
daughter  Gary,  58 ;  his  pain- 
ful position  at  the  outbreak  of 


TEE 

the  Civil  War,  87  ;  his  arms, 
93  ;  appointed  Standard-bearer, 
99  ;  divided  from  his  son,  104  ; 
his  gallant  death,  115,  116,  118, 
119  ;  Ralph's  grief,  120,  122  ; 
Sir  Edmund's  character,  98, 
127,  424,  426 

Verney,  Dame  Margaret  (Denton), 
wife  of  the  Standard-bearer,  her 
family,  i.  72,  73,  74  ;  her  early 
married  life,  i.  74  ;  ii.  2,  3, 
6  ;  her  children,  i.  103  ;  her 
husband's  frequent  absences, 
104,  167  ;  sends  Tom  to 
America,  136  ;  writes  about  the 
Scotch  war,  302  ;  failing  health, 
244,  326  ;  retiring  disposition, 
ii.  12,  13  ;  her  death,  will,  and 
funeral,  i.  10  ;  ii.  1,  2,  14,  16, 
17-20 

Verney,  Sir  Ralph,  Knight,  eldest 
son  of  the  Standard-bearer,  his 
birth,  i.  120 ;  his  business 
capacity,  112,  113 ;  his  mar- 
riage, 115  ;  studies  at  Magdalen 
Hall,  117  ;  his  tutor  Crowther, 
117-122  ;  loses  a  child,  123  ; 
his  devotion  to  his  father,  126  ; 
unwarlike  nature,  133 ;  his 
friendship  with  Dillon,  215- 
240,  and  with  Lady  Sussex, 
243,  246,  254,  257  ;  his  distress 
at  Mrs.  Eure's  marriage,  281, 
282 ;  his  father's  executor, 
299 ;  his  anxieties  about  his 
father  in  the  Scotch  war,  309, 
310 ;  returned  to  Parliament, 
329,  336  ;  his  notes  of  the  de- 
bates, 241  ;  ii.  20-39  ;  his 
Parliamentary  friends,  i.  329  ; 
letter  on  his  mother's  death, 
ii.  14  ;  executor  to  his  mother, 
17  ;  letters  to  Gary,  63,  69, 
75 ;  differs  with  his  father 
politically,  89,  108  ;  distress  at 
his  father's  death,  120,  122  ; 
blamed  by  his  brother  Edmund, 
136  ;  his  reply,  137,  141  ; 
correspondence  with  Lady 
Sussex,  150-162 ;  refuses  to 
sign  the  Covenant,  163,  164, 
168,  169 ;  sends  his  luggage 


452      VERNEY   FAMILY   DURING   THE   CIVIL  WAR 


VER 

abroad,  173,  174,  179;  his 
children,  7,  8,  9,  177,  178; 
driven  into  exile,  179,  182  ; 
life  in  exile,  pining  for  news, 
186,  187  ;  his  distress  at  the 
burning  of  Hillesden  House, 
197  ;  letter  of  condolence  on 
Colonel  Denton's  death,  202  ;  , 
he  offends  both  parties,  210, 
211  ;  dismissed  the  House  of 
Commons,  216,  217  ;  his  books, 
221,  222  ;  travels  in  France,  is 
cheated  by  a  Dutchman,  232, 
233  ;  his  wigs,  233  ;  his  estate 
sequestrated,  238 ;  sends  his 
wite  to  England,  241  ;  letters 
to  his  wife,  247,  257,  259,  265, 
269,  279,  288 ;  anxieties  at 
Blois,  283  ;  Peg's  death,  295  ; 
counsels  of  despair,  297,  298  ; 
writes  on  the  death  of  his 
children,  300  ;  sequestration 
removed,  307  ;  his  wife's  re- 
turn, 318  ;  anxious  about  his 
brother  Edmund,  342  ;  negotia- 
tions about  his  sisters'  marriage 
portions  and  their  affairs, 
350-388  ;  hears  of  the  King's 
execution,  398,  401,  403  ; 
travels  for  his  wife's  health, 
404,  405  ;  loses  his  wife,  414  ; 
reviews  his  life,  415,  416,  417  ; 
gives  directions  for  Mary's 
funeral,  422  ;  his  description  of 
her,  423  ;  review  of  Sir  Ralph's 
character,  426-429 
Verney,  Dame  Mary,  wife  of  Sir 
Ralph,  nee  Blacknall,  L  113  ;  an 
orphan  heiress,  114,  115  ;  her 
marriage,  115,  116,  117  ;  her 
early  life  at  Claydon,  122,  125  ; 
her  children's  births,  i.  123, 
244 ;  ii.  7,  8,  9  ;  Sir  Edmund's 
affection  for  her,  i.  127  ;  Dillon's 
friendship  for  her,  i.  218,  219, 
221.  233  ;  ii.  3,  10  ;  at  Covent 
Garden,  i.  330 ;  avoids  the 
Court,  ii.  12,  17  ;  correspond- 
ence with  the  Gardiners,  64, 
65,  66,  73 ;  with  Lady  Sussex, 
82  ;  with  Edmund,  128, 
143,  329;  her  children,  177, 


VER 

178  ;  shares  her  husband's 
exile,  180,  181,  183,  214  ;  her 
housekeeping  in  France,  222- 
234  ;  dress,  &c. ,  234,  236  ; 
goes  to  England  on  her  hus- 
band's business,  239  -  242  ; 
birth  of  her  youngest  child, 
265  ;  her  visit  to  Claydon,  285- 
294  ;  loses  Peg  and  Ralph, 
295 ;  anxiety  about  her  hus- 
band, 299  ;  wins  her  suit,  306  ; 
at  the  apothecary's  wedding, 
314  ;  her  return  to  France, 
316,  317,  318  ;  reunited  with 
Ralph,  319,  324,  391  ;  in  Paris, 
331  ;  her  opinion  of  her  sisters- 
in-law,  369  -  383  ;  failing 
health,  404,  405,  410,  411,  412, 
413  ;  her  death,  414  ;  Ralph's 
tribute  to  her  memory,  414, 
416,  423  ;  her  burial,  420,  422, 
423 

Verney,  Thomas,  2nd  son  of  the 
Standard-bearer,  i.  122  ;  wishes 
to  marry  at  school,  135  ; 
shipped  off  to  America,  135  ; 
comes  back  again,  137  ;  goes  to 
sea,  137  ;  goes  to  Flanders, 
137 ;  serves  in  France,  139  ; 
goes  to  Sweden,  141  ;  home 
again,  143  ;  debt  and  difficul- 
ties. 143-146;  goes  to  Barba- 
does,  147  ;  a  colonial  outfit, 
152  ;  his  description  of  Barba- 
does,  148 ;  second  journey  to 
Barbadoes,  153  ;  sells  his 
labourers,  154  ;  returns  home, 
154,  166,  299,  326  ;  ii.  78  ;  in 
the  Fleet,  ii.  148,  149,  150, 
157  ;  taken  prisoner  at  Hilles- 
den, 195,  198,  203 ;  he  bullies 
Mary,  275,  277  ;  introduces 
Mr.  Alport  to  Susan,  351  ; 
quarrels  with  them,  369  ;  signs 
a  bill  of  Sir  T.  Elmes,  332  ; 
Edmund  helps  him  out,  333  ; 
Ralph  pays  his  debts,  406,  407, 
408  ;  spoken  of  as  '  the  arran- 
test  informer,'  408 

Verney,  Joyce,  wife  to  Tom 
Verney,  ii.  158,  198,  203,  368 

Verney,  Sir  Edmund,  Knight,  3rd 


INDEX 


453 


VEB 

son  of  the  Standard-bearer,  a 
school-boy,  i.  156,  157,  158 ; 
at  Magdalen  Hall,  158 ;  his 
allowance,  158,  159  ;  fee  to 
tutor,  159  ;  complaints  about 
him,  161  ;  debts,  162  ;  appeals 
to  his  brother  for  money,  163  ; 
at  Hillesden,  165  ;  in  Scotland 
with  the  Army,  168  ;  in  Flan- 
ders, 169  ;  pays  his  Oxford 
debts,  169  ;  at  Utrecht,  171  ; 
nursing  his  cousin  at  the  Hague, 
173  ;  asks  for  books,  174,  175  ; 
his  chivalrous  ideas,  176 ;  in 
Scotland  again,  177  ;  loses  his 
clothes,  178  ;  with  his  father 
in  the  Scotch  war,  303,  315  ; 
writes  of  his  nephew,  ii.  8 ; 
hears  of  his  mother's  death, 
128;  sent  to  Ireland,  130, 
136  ;  reproaches  his  brother  for 
siding  with  the  Parliament, 
137,  141  ;  money  troubles,  143, 
262  ;  Lieut. -Governor  of  Ches- 
ter, 3-20  ;  knighted,  320  ;  with 
Ormonde  in  Ireland,  323- 
325  ;  at  Bristol,  326  ;  at  Clay- 
don,  289,  309,  328  ;  his  kind- 
ness to  Mary,  280,  317  ;  letter 
of  condolence,  329  ;  in  London, 
S31  ;  at  Paris  with  Ormonde, 
331-338,  391  ;  writes  of  the 
siege  of  Colchester,  338,  339  ; 
in  Ireland  again,  341  ;  report 
of  his  death  at  Dublin,  343  ; 
killed  after  the  surrender  of 
Drogheda,  344,  345,  346,  347, 
348,  412 

Verney,  Henry,   4th   son  of  the 
Standard-bearer,    i.    122,    169, 

170  ;  sent  to  Paris,  181;  taste  for 
sport,  182  ;  a  soldier,   183  ;  at 
Breda,  183,  184  ;  wins  a  race, 
185  ;  with  the  Queen  of  Bohe- 
mia, 186,  187  ;  takes  leave  of 
Prince  of  Orange,   189 ;    com- 
plains   of   the  family  politics, 
191  ;  returns  home  with  Queen 
Henrietta  Maria  ;  presented  to 
Charles  I.,  193,  194,  294,  296  ; 
ii.  9,  78  ;  taken  prisoner,  170, 

171  ;  lectures  Ralph,  220,  221, 


VEB 

241,  252,  255  ;  worries  Mary 
for  money,  246,  260,  261  ;  Ed- 
mund's opinion  of  him,  262, 
317,  408;  lives  'like  a  wan- 
dering Jew,'  409  ;  Dr.  Denton 
tries  to  reconcile  Ralph  with 
him,  419,  420 

Verney,    the   daughters    of   the 
Standard-bearer — 

1.  Susanna,  i.  166,  167  ;   ii.  145, 
147,   167,   172,  175,  176,  190, 
195,  203,  204,   218,  351,  354, 
355,  356,  357,  358  ;   see  Alport, 
Susan,  Mrs.,  Appendix  to  vol.  ii. 

2.  Penelope,  i.  10,  167  ;  ii.   129, 
145,  175,  176,  177,  178,  195, 
351 ;  see  Denton,  Penelope,  Mrs. 
John  ;  see  Osborn,  Lady 

3.  Margaret,  i.  84,  167,  176,  288, 
289,    290,    291 ;    ii.   145  ;    see 
Elmes,  Margaret,  Lady 

4.  Gary,  ii.  58,  145  ;  see  Gardiner, 
Gary,  Lady 

5.  Mary,  ii.  170,  175,   367,   368, 
371,  372,  373,  375,  376,  379, 
381 ;  marries  Mr.  Robert  Lloyd, 
390 

6.  Elizabeth,  ii.  3,  175,  177,  367, 
370,  372,   376,   377,  378,   379, 
381,   382,   383,    409  ;    marries 
Rev.  C.  Adams,  384 

Verney,  children  of  Sir  Ralph — 

1.  Marv,  ii.  7 

2.  An  Infant,  i.  123,  124  ;  ii.  7,  8 

3.  Anna-Maria,  i.  232,  233  ;  ii.  3, 
8,9 

4.  Edmund,  i.  103,  167,  244  ;  ii. 
2,  5,  9,  17,  177,  181,  183,  214, 
231,   266,  283,  312,  313,   341, 
415 

5.  Margaret,    i.   146  ;    ii.   9,  18, 
177,  181,  214,   231,   266,  283, 
284,  295,  296,  300,  301,   302, 
315,  391,  416 

6.  John,  ii.  9, 177, 178,  180,  265, 
271,  292,  293,  294,    310,  316, 
415  ;  see  Fermanagh 

7.  Ralph,  ii.  265,  266,  267,  269, 
270,  283,   293,  294,   296,   300, 
329,  391,  416 

Verney,  Ralph,  2nd  Earl,  i.  16, 
17,18 


454      VEENEY   FAMILY  DURING   THE   CIVIL  WAR 


VEB 

Verney,  the  Right  Honourable  Sir 
Harry,  Bart. ,  Introd.  Note,  iii.  ; 
Preface  to  2nd  vol.  ;  i.  328,  337, 
340  ;  ii.  390 

Villiers,  George  ;  see.  Buckingham 

Villiers,  Mary,  ii.  350 


WAIMAN,  Lord,  ii.  162 
Wake,  Sir  Baldwin,  ii.  335, 

337 

Wakefield,  Mr.,  ii.  215 
Wall,  Dr.,  i.  160 
Wallop,  Mr.,  of   Hopton   Castle, 

ii.  197 

Wandesford,  ii.  41 
Wanman,  Sir  Thomas,  i.  288 
Warwick,   Robert  Richard,  Earl 

of,  i.  90,   92,   102,    147,    148, 

165,   2:35,  239,   244,   249,  250, 

254,  256,  257,  260,  261,  339 
Warwick,    Countess   of,    ii.    244, 

263,  279,  307,  308,  336,  337  ; 

see  Sussex,  Countess  of 
Washington,  Charles,  i.  82,  83 
Wayes,1VIr.,  ii.  180 
Welsh,  Sir  Nicholas,  ii.  50 
Wentworth,    Lady    Elizabeth,    i. 

232,  233,  234,  238 
Westminster  School,  ii.  398 
Weston,  Anne,  i.  47,  83 
Weston,  Richard,  i.  47 
Weston,  Sir  Francis,  i.  48 
Wharton,   Thomas,  Lord,  i.  248  ; 

ii.  145,  437 
White,  Mr.,  ii.  165 
Whitelock,  i.  329 


zou 

Whittingham,    Sir  Robert,  i.  40, 

41,  43 
Whittingham,  Margaret,  wife  to 

Sir  John  Verney,  i.  41,  42 
Wilkinson,  Henry,  i.  118,  159 
Wilkinson,  Dr.,  i.  161 
Willetts,  Mrs.,  ii.  224 
William  III.,  ii.  428 
Willis,  Browne,  the  Bucks  anti- 
quary, i.  8 

Willoughby,  Lord,  ii.  119 
Wills,   i.    22,    43;    Sir    Edmund 

Verney's,  i.  298  ;  Sir  H.  Lee's, 

247  ;  Dame  Margaret's,  ii.  17  ; 

Dame  Mary's,  414 
Wilmot,  Lord,    i.  201,  247  ;    ii. 

106 
Winchester  School,   i.  156,   157, 

158 

Wiseman,  — ,  i.  115 
Wiseman,  Mrs.,  i.  115,  116 
Wortley,  Sir  Edward,  i.  253,  271 
Wortley,  Sir  Francis,  ii.  83,  84, 

85 

Wotton,  Sir  Henry,  i.  70 
Wray,  Sir  John,  i.  354 
Wycomte,  i.  329 
Wynne,   Sir  Richard,  i.    78  ;    ii. 

404 


TTONE,  Margaret,  i.  45 
J_      York,  Cecily,  Duchess  of,  i. 
33 


I7APATA,  Cardinal,  i.  82 
LJ     Zouch,  De  la,  i.  1 


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