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to their place in Buckinghamshire, set out. They had not proceeded far when Jane Lane's horse cast a shoe, which the King must see replaced. Going into the nearest forge, Charles was soon chatting with the smith, who was bewailing the non-capture of that " rogue, Charles Stuart." The King replied, that "if that rogue were taken, he deserved to be hanged more than all the rest, for bringing in the Scots." The horse is again shod, and the party proceed safely as far as Wootton, some six or seven miles from Stratford-onAvon.* Here, however, they are met by a troop of horse, through which the King would pass, but Mr. Petre refuses. Jane Lane, who seems to have possessed courage equal to her tact, in vain remonstrates, and the party "wheel about a more indi

sorely in need of it; once more his spirits return, and he fights his battles over again, exclaiming: "I am now ready for another march, and if it shall please God once more to place me at the head of eight or ten thousand men of one mind, and resolved to fight, I shall not doubt to drive these rogues out of my kingdom." It is here that we first make acquaintance with Father Hodleston, whom the reader will remember as administering the Sacrament to Charles on his death-bed. Monday morning is breaking on the tired King, who tries to take some rest in one of the narrow secret chambers where he is concealed. He has but just left Boscobel in time, for to-day two parties of the enemy closely searched the house in every direction, taking away all poor William Penderel's stock of provisions, and threat-rect way," as the author of "Boscobel" ening his life. Lord Wilmot goes over to Bentley Hall to make preparations for the King's reception there. The next day Moseley Hall itself is surrounded by soldiers, but thanks to Mr. Whitgreaves' address, all suspicion is warded off, though at White-Ladies Mr. Giffard is not so lucky, and his house is thoroughly explored, the very wainscoting being torn down in pursuit of the fugitive. Tuesday comes, and with it a number of false rumors, and one also quite true, that a thousand pounds is offered for the apprehension of Charles Stuart. That night the King, attended by Colonel Lane, reached Bentley Hall.

writes, or as the King says, "we turned quite round, and went into Stratford another way." Very curious is this, as it shows how accurate at times is popular tradition. The country people in the neighborhood still say that Charles came to Wootton, and turned off at a spot called Bearley Cross, although the name of King's-lane has been given to a modern road, only a portion of which can claim that appellation. The old lane can still be traced, along which Charles rode that September afternoon, although in places it is quite overgrown with underwood. It ran where Bearley-grove now stands, along the ridge-top, and so into the We shall not dwell on this portion of Wootton-road again. We made our way the narrative, as Mr. Hughes has given down it a few days ago. not only a detailed account of all matters places was covered over with primroses of interest connected with it, but also which gleamed in the March sun, and the sketches of Boscobel House and Moseley catkins of the nut-trees waved golden in Hall, but shall pass on to the next stage the March wind, whilst their pink tufts of the journey, where the editor's know- gleamed here and there like rubies. The ledge is more limited. It was arranged one elm in the Wootton-road has only at Bentley that_the_King_should attend within a few years been cut down, under Colonel Lane's daughter, Jane Lane, who which Charles must have passed that day, had a pass from the enemy, and endeavor for we know from parish documents that to reach some sea-port; so on Wednesday it was standing in Shakspeare's time, as a morning we find Charles transformed from boundary tree; but the peasant has his Will Jones, the woodman, into Will Jack-revenge, and can show you the oak under son, a groom, clad in a suit of gray cloth. which the King took shelter in a storm. His new part he did not play well, for in handing Jane Lane on to her horse he gave her the wrong hand, which caused old Mrs. Lane to laugh heartily at his expense. However, the party, consisting of Jane Lane, with Will Jackson riding be. fore her, a relative of hers, Mr. Lascelles, and Mr. and Mrs. Petre, who were going

*The author of "Boscobel" falls into one or two

trifling inaccuracies just here, as when he says Wootton is within four miles of Stratford; and again,

that Long-Marston is three miles from the same place; for three read five.

cester; dictated to Mr. Pepys by the King himself, An account of his Majesty's escape from Worp. 164.

At Stratford Mr. and Mrs. Petre, ignorant | jack?' Will Jackson answered very satisfacof who Will Jackson might be, went on torily, I am a poor tenant's son of Colonel to Buckinghamshire. What Charles's Lane, in Staffordshire; we seldom have roast thoughts were as he passed along, who meat, but when we have, we don't make use of a jack;' which in some measure assuaged the shall say? In sight of him were the maid's anger." Edge-Hills, where his father first fought the Houses: beside him there ran the river Avon, which flowed from the fatal field of Naseby, where his father for the last time encountered the same foe. In the town, too, he passed not very far from where his mother, Henrietta Maria, had kept court-New Place-where a greater than she had once lived, even William Shakspeare. The royal party now keep on for Long Marston, or Marson, as the King writes it, and still so pronounced by the peasantry to this day, the same "dancing Marston" in Shakspeare's wellknown rhyme. Here Jane Lane puts up at the house of Mr. Tombs: and here it was that the well-known attempt of the King to wind up the jack really occurred; we shall give the story in the words of the author of "Boscobel :"

The old house still stands, and is still in possession of the same family, who now, however, spell their names rather differently-Tomes. The people in the village even now call the house "Old King Charles." "So and so lives at Old King Charles," they say. The old jack still hangs up beside the fire-place, and from its construction would, we should think, puzzle, at first sight, a wiser man than Charles to wind it up. The villagers have their own version of the story, which is somewhat more romantic than the plain narration in "Boscobel," and runs as follows: That the King, hard pressed by the soldiers in pursuit of him, fled for refuge to the house into the very kitchen, disclosing his perilous situation to the maid at work, who instantly set him to wind up after him; the King in trepidation, turned the jack; the soldiers rushed in round, when the cook, with wonderful presence of mind, hit him with the basting-ladle, adding: "Now then, go on with your work, instead of looking about." The maneuver was effectual, and tho soldiers departed on a fresh track. Valeat quantum valere debeat. Quaint and curious is the old place, with its oaken staircase and closets, standing a little back from the village, in the midst of trees and * The story of King Charles winding up the jack green pasture lands; it surely deserves a is popular in many villages, and it is but just that better fate than to be used as the granary the honor should be given to the place where it of an adjoining farm-house. We are sorry really occurred. A writer in the "Gentleman's Mr. Hughes did not investigate this porMagazine," No. 63, claims Boscobel House as the tion of Charles's journey, which would scene of the occurrence; and in the neighbor- have yielded him quite as interesting rehood of Bentley Hall tradition loudly asserts the claim of the latter place, whilst Trent House as sults as his other inquiries. The family of firmly maintains its own right to the same honor; the Tombs's, although ignorant at the but there is no reason to doubt the accuracy of the time who was their guest, turning the author of "Boscobel," supported as he is by the di-jack in their kitchen, appear to have sufrect family tradition of the Tombs. The truth is, as we have said before, that no tale is so popular

"That night, according to designment, Mrs. Lane and her company took up their quarters at Mr. Tombs' house, at Longmarston, some three miles west of Stratford, with whom she was well acquainted. Here Will Jackson being in the kitchen, in pursuance of his disguise, and the cook-maid busy in providing supper for her master's friends, she desired him to wind up the jack; Will Jackson was obedient, and attempted it, but hit not the right way, which made the maid in some passion ask: What countryman are you, that you know not how to wind up a

among the lower orders as this of King Charles's escape, and many villages, where he could never have been, in their loyal enthusiasm show you the identical room where he slept. Thus, at Knightwick, in Worcestershire, King Charles is said to have hid himself at the Talbot Inn, disguised as a shoeblack; the error arising possibly from the fact that Colonel Lane possessed property in the neighborhood Again, at Philips Norton, in Somersetshire, a house is shown where King Charles was concealed, the mistake arising in this case from the confusion of the words Phelips and Norton as connected with the history.

fered for their night's hospitality. There is still in possession of Fisher Tomes, Esq., the present owner of the house, a warrant issued by Edward Greville, of Milcote, directed to the constable and tything-men of Marston, desiring them to bring before him John Tombs, to answer to such matters as may be brought against him. He was obliged in consequence to leave the country for a time, and part of the estate was given to his half-brother, Francis Blower, who had taken the Parliamentary

side. After the Restoration, family tra- | faculties are not pertinaciously depraved, to acdition says that they received, by way of knowledge the watchful eye of God from above, recompense, a grant of liberty to hunt, looking upon all actions of men here below, hawk, and fish from Long Marston to making even the most wicked subservient Crab's Cross, near Redditch, in Worces- whatsoever the ancients fabled Gyges's ring, by to his just and glorious designs. And indeed tershire, though it seems that the grant which he could render himself invisible; or the was never entered in the King's Register poets fancied of their gods, who usually carried Book-Charles in this, as in many other their chief favorites in the clouds, and by drawinstances, rightly estimating the true ing those aerial curtains, which so conceal value of his life by the rewards he be- them, that they were heard and seen of none, stowed on his preservers. whilst they both heard and saw others, is here closely covered the King with the wing of his most certainly verified; for the Almighty so protection, and so clouded the understandings of his cruel enemies, that the most piercing eyo of malice could not see, nor the most barbarous bloody hand offer violence to his sacred person; God smiting his pursuers, as once he did the Sodomites, with blindness..

We have dwelt thus long on this part of the journey because Mr. Hughes has barely alluded to it, and must now compress our story. From Long Marston the Royal party proceed by Camden along the Cotswold Hills to Cirencester, where they staid the night, and from thence to Abbotsleigh, the residence of the Nortons, passing through Bristol on their way.

In Colston's "Life and Times" may be found a very elaborate description of Charles and Jane Lane riding through the streets of Bristol, and meeting the corpse of Ireton just landed from Ireland; but unfortunately, Charles passed through Bristol on September 12th, and Ireton did not die till November 26th. At Abbotsleigh, for greater security, Charles feigned sickness. The butler, however, who had once been in the King's household recognized his former master. Lord Wilmot, who had left Charles in Warwickshire, arrives in the neighborhood on the 12th; but it is thought advisable that he should stay away from Abbotsleigh for fear of detection. All hope of embarking from Bristol being gone, owing to the enemy's close watch, it is determined that Charles shall proceed to Trent House, the seat of Colonel Wyndham. An account of his sojourn there is still preserved in a pamphlet, entitled Claustrum Regale Reseratum, supposed to have been written by either Colonel Wyndham's wife or sister; but whoever she was, she exceeds the author of "Boscobel" in virulent royalism. We quote its com


"His Majesty's journey from Abbots-Leigh, in Somersetshire, to the house of Colonel Francis Wyndham at Trent, in the same county, his stay there, his endeavor, though frustrate, to get over into France, his return to Trent, his final departure thence in order to his happy transportation. A story, in which the constellations of Providence are so refulgent, that their light is sufficient to confute all the atheists of the world, and to enforce all persons, whose

Alison is accused of writing history to prove that Providence was on the side of the Tories; but Mistress Wyndham seems to have been admitted at once into the Almighty's counsels.

On September 16th, Charles, attended by the faithful Jane Lane and Mr. Lascelles, set out for Trent, but that day they only reached Castle Cary. Lord Wilmot, however, has gone on to Trent to tell the news to Colonel Wyndham, who the next day sets out to meet the King, having intrusted the secret to his wife, his niece, Juliana Coningsby, and some of his domestics Charles remained in close quarters at Trent, in a secret chamber which commanded a view of the village, where he overheard one of Cromwell's troopers boasting that he had slain the King with his own hands; could see, too, the bonfires that the people lit in their joy, and hear his own death-knell rung from the church-tower. Colonel Wyndham now set out for Lyme, where, through the means of his friend, Captain Ellesden, he engages with Limbry, the master of a coasting vessel, to take some Royalists from Charmouth over to France, whilst the Colonel's servant, Peters, hires some apartments at an inn at Charmouth for a runaway bridal party from Devonshire. By September 23d all the arrangements are completed; Jane Lane takes leave of the King, thinking that he is now safe, and knowing that she had faithfully played her part, and returns with Mr. Lascelles to Staffordshire. She may not equal Alice Lee or Flora Macdonald in her attractions, but there is quiet, unassuming grace about her which gives the real

charm to her character; and the reader | his departure; so that now you can't but will gladly learn that she and the Pen- be a maid of honor," he answered. The derels, and some others, were rewarded woman abused him at first, but with a by Charles with substantial pensions, which, however, do not appear to have been very regularly paid. The King riding double before Juliana Coningsby, sets out, with the Colonel as his guide, for Charmouth. Ellesden met them at a lone house among the hills, and about dusk they went on to Charmouth. The hour fixed for their embarkation had already arrived, but no boat came; the tide flowed in and was ebbing out; Peters was dispatched to Ellesden, who could give no explanation. In alarm the King and the Colonel made for Bridport, which was then full of sailors and soldiers; Charles pushed his way through the crowd at the inn-doors, joking with the troopers, when the ostler cried out: "I have surely seen your face before." The King cleverly drew from him that he had once lived at Exeter, where it was concluded they must have met. Lord Wilmot joined Charles about three o'clock, and it was determined to leave at once. Barely had they passed out of Bridport when the alarm was given; the old Republican ostler at Charmouth had noticed that the horses were kept saddled and bridled in the stable all night; had seen, too, the frequent and anxious visits down to the sea-shore. Hammet, the blacksmith, had remarked of Lord Wilmot's horse, which had cast a shoe, that "this horse has but three shoes, and they were all set in different counties, and one in Worcestershire." The ostler communicated with the Puritan divine, who seems to have had something of the Cavalier about him; for, going down to the inn, he salutes the hostess with "Why, how now, Margaret? you are a maid of honor now." "What mean you by that, Mr. Parson ?" she replied. Why, Charles Stuart lay last night at your house, and kissed you at


"The gold pouncet-box given by the King to Mrs. Jane Lane during their journey from Bentley to Bristol after the battle of Worcester, and a beautiful miniature portrait of Colonel Lane, were exhibited by Miss Yonge, at the Archæological Institute meeting at Shrewsbury, October, 1855."-"Notes and Queries for Worcester," p. 326. The gold watch which Charles gave Jane Lane, and which he requested might descend as an heirloom to the eldest daughter of the house of Lane for the time being, was till lately at Charlecote House, near Stratfordon-Avon, from whence it was stolen, and melted down in some Birmingham receiving-house.

woman's true vanity soon added: "If I thought it was the King, as you say it was, I would think the better of my lips all the days of my life; and so, Mr. Parson, get you out of my house, or else I'll get those shall kick you out." The divine, not liking the good woman's rebuff, applied to the nearest magistrate for advice in the matter; but he treated the subject as lightly as mine hostess. Captain Macy was next applied to, who viewed the matter in a very different light, and instantly equipped a picket, and spurred off after the fugitives to Bridport. At Bridport he learnt they had gone on to Dorchester. Along the London road he galloped in hot haste, but the fugitives, unconscious of their danger, had just turned down a narrow lane leading to Broadwindsor, whilst Macy overshooting them, proceeded to Dorchester. At Broadwindsor the Colonel was acquainted with the host; but the night was again spent in alarm and confusion. Some soldiers came in to be billeted, and at midnight one of their wives was confined, and soldiers and parish-officers were engaged in a squabble as to who should be chargeable for the expense. The next morning, all chance of embarking from the Dorsetshire coast being gone, the friends return to Trent House again, and form plans for an attempt from some Sussex seaport. And here, while the King is safely concealed, we will tell the story of the former miscarriage. Limbry, the master of the vessel, had, it appears, concealed his intention of sailing from his wife, who, at the last minute, when he came for his seachest, reasonably asked why he was going to sea without any cargo. He replied, that Captain Ellesden would pay him better than any cargo would, if he would ship a Royalist friend of his over to France. His wife, who had just come from Lyme fair, where she had seen the offer of £1000 reward for the King's apprehension, and also the threats and punishments for harboring or aiding any of the Royalist party, begged of him not to go: his entreaties were in vain. She, with her two daughters, locked him in the room, exclaiming that she and her children would not be ruined by any landlord. The more the man entreated, the more violent she became; threatening at last, to tell Cap

tain Macy of the circumstances; which | October 13th, Charles, accompanied by threat reduced her husband to quietness. by Canon Henchman, who had acted as a When the tide had run down, she allowed medium of communication from him to his him his liberty; and, as the Colonel and his man Peters were returning from their bootless errand to the inn, they saw a man dogged at a small distance by two or three women-this was the unfortunate Limbry, followed by his wife and daugh


The alarm had now been given, and the Republicans were on Charles's track: the neighboring counties were scoured over; every hiding place was explored. Pilisdon Hall, the seat of Colonel Wyndham's uncle, Sir J. Wyndham, was searched. In their zeal the Puritans suspected that a young lady of the family was Charles in disguise. Trent House itself was next to be searched: a tailor in the village gave the Colonel timely information, who, to blind his enemies, accompanied Lord Wilmot to the village church. This ruse had the desired effect-nothing in this world being then as now more deceptive than an outward show of religion. The sectaries were satisfied, and Trent House escaped molestation. On the 6th of October, Charles again set out, riding with Juliana Coningsby, on a double horse, under the guidance of Colonel Phelips, of Montacute House, for Hele House, near Amesbury, the seat of Mrs. Hyde, widow of the Chief Justice's elder brother, in order that he might be nearer the Sussex coast. Colonel Wyndham did not accompany them, for fear of suspicion. On the road they stopped at the George Inn, at Mere-a little town in Wiltshire, where mine host after dinner asked Charles "if he were a friend to Cæsars ?" The King replied, "Yes." "Then here's a health to King Charles," cried he. That night the royal party reached Hele House, where good Mrs. Hyde's overzealousness and loyalty nearly betrayed her guest's rank. She, so writes the author of "Boscobel," "would give two larks to the King, when the others had but one ;" and scarcely could she be prevailed from toasting a bumper to him. The next day it was arranged that Charles should formally take leave of the family, but return secretly at night. So, for the next five days, he lay concealed at Hele House, waited upon by the widow. News at last is brought that Lord Wilmot, through the agency of Colonel Gunter, has succeeded in hiring a small coasting-vessel. So, on

friends, and being met on the way by Colonel Gunter, and Wilmot and Phelips, proceeded to Hambledon, in Hampshire, the residence of Mr. Symons, who married Colonel Gunter's sister. The visit was so unexpected, that Mr. Symons was absent, and did not return till supper-time, and was at first by no means pleased with the appearance of Charles, whose hair had not yet recovered from William Penderel's scissors: being satisfied, however, that his suspicions are wrong, he is only sorry that his beer is not stronger, and fetches down "a bottle of strong water," drinking to Mr. Jackson, as Charles was still named, jokingly calling him "brother Roundhead." The next morning the royal party set out for Brighthelmstone. A curious scene takes place at the inn, where Charles is recognized by the host, who, the instant he finds himself alone with the King, seized his hand to kiss it, exclaiming: "God bless you wheresoever you go! I do not doubt before I die but to be a lord and my wife a lady.", Charles, to make every thing safe from another curtain lecture, detains Captain Tattersal, the master of the vessel, with him. The next morning Charles and Wilmot embark from Shoreham; and on that day, too, does the gallant Lord Derby lay down his head on the block at Bolton.

So ends the story of Charles's escape: it is a story of old halls, many of them now gone, some of them still standing, gray and weather-worn, their slates covered with a golden thatch of moss, full of hiding-places, where our forefathers, Cavaliers and Puritans, were alternately hida story, too, which the peasant in many parts of England still tells in his own rude way-a story of human fidelity, which, if told of a better man, would bring tears into our eyes. This muchabused human nature was, after all, true and faithful; for, though some score and more people were intrusted with the secret, not one of them revealed it. No one broke their word, though intimidated by threats and tempted by bribes. Peasant and peer were equally true; cottage and hall were both equally open to the homeless fugitive. One instance, and one only, is there approaching to flunkeyism in that of poor Smith, the innkeeper.

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