THE ENGLISHMAN'S MAGAZINE. PAGE Contents, PAGE Some Account of Sir Richard and Lady Fanshawe 25 Poetry: - The English Yeoman. The Signal of Winter Laneast . . . The Schoolmaster at Home. Chap. XXIV. Reca Notices of Books - Cheap Literature; Wesleyan pitulation and Conclusion, Tracts for the Times. On Private Judgment . . . . . . 40 Intelligence . . . . . . i . 30 45 on pitulation and Con ladies, Ann and Margaret Harrison, the elder, not long after their arrival at Oxford, was married to Mr. Fanshawe, a very worthy gentleman, and most faithful servant of the King's. And now I will give you, in her own words, Mrs. (or, as she afterwards became, Lady) Fanshawe's account of this period of her life; a life singularly marked by trials and privations, but through which she was enabled, by God's grace, to set an example of fortitude and submission worthy of her Christian calling : « My father commanded my sister and myself to come to him at Oxford, where the court then was. We, that had till that hour lived in great plenty and great order, found ourselves like fishes out of the water, and the scene so changed, that we knew not at all how to act any part but obedience; for, from as good a house as any gentleman of England had, we came to a baker's house in an obLADY YANSHAWE. scure street; and from rooms well furnished, SOME ACCOUNT OF SIR RICHARD AND to lie in a very bad bed in a garret. No moLADY FANSHAWE.' ney-nor clothes, more than a man or two could bring in their cloak-bags. We had the The Great Rebellion broke out in England perpetual discourse of losing and gaining in the year of our Lord 1642; just about two towns and men; at the windows the sad hundred years ago. In this unnatural war, spectacle of war; sometimes the plague, which lasted during six years, the cause of sometimes sicknesses of other kinds, by reathe King was supported by nearly all the no- | son of so many people being packed togebility and gentry, followed by a large pro ther, as I believe there never was before, of portion of the farmers and country labourers; || that quality; always in want, yet, I must that of the Parliament by the people of Lon- | needs say, that most bore it with a martyrdon, and most of those who inhabited the like cheerfulness." large manufacturing or sea-port towns. It | Mr. Fanshawe being appointed to the serwas in the early part of these unhappy dis- || vice of the Prince of Wales, was obliged, in turbances that Sir John Harrison, a gentle- || the beginning of March 1645, to attend the man of Hertfordshire, was made prisoner in prince to Bristol, leaving his wife at Oxford, his own house in London, by some of the || in a very weak state of health, and with a rebel-party, who plundered the house, and dying infant. This, their first child, died threatened to send him on board a ship,-no | two days after the departure of Mr. Fanuncommon punishment at that time. Sir || shawe; and it was not till the month of May John contrived, however, to make his es- | that his wife was sufficiently recovered to cape; and getting safe to Oxford, where the || leave her chamber and go to church. That king (Charles I.) then held his court, sent for || very day, a gentleman, lately come from his two daughters, whom he had left at their Bristol, delivered her a letter and some mohome in Hertfordshire. Of these two young || ney from her husband; and greatly were her drooping spirits revived when, on perusing 1 This slight biographical sketch has been compiled from “Memoirs of Lady Fanshawe," written by herself, || the former, she learnt that, on the following and first published in 1829. Thursday, men and horses would be sent NO, XXVI. FEBRUARY 1843, iness » rom Mr. Fanshawe to convey herself, her The king was then a prisoner at Hampton ather and sister, to Bristol. Court, one of his own palaces; and there Mr. This journey seems to have been accom and Mrs. Fanshawe appear to have found plished without difficulty; and Mrs. Fan the means of occasionally waiting upon him. shawe reached her husband in safety on the One of these interviews, as described by Mrs. 20th of May. In the summer of the same Fanshawe, is deeply interesting; the words year the prince and his court removed from of that dutiful and true-hearted relator will Bristol, on account of the plague; and after best do justice to the scene. passing some months at different towns in “During the king's stay at Hampton Court, the west of England, they embarked from my husband was with him, to whom he was the Land's End for the isles of Scilly. The pleased to talk much of his concerns ..... passage to these islands, which are little bet. 1 giving him private instructions, and letters ter than a cluster of rocks, is often attended | for his service; but God, for our sins, diswith danger; but in addition to the usual || posed his majesty's affairs otherwise, I went perils of the sea, Mr. Fanshawe and his lady || three times to pay my duty to him, both as I were exposed to insult and loss, if not to was the daughter of his servant and the wife actual danger, from a mutiny amongst the of his servant. The last time I ever saw him, sailors, who plundered them of their money when I took my leave, I could not refrain and other valuable property. weeping; when he had saluted me, I prayed Mrs. Fanshawe had suffered greatly during | to God to preserve his majesty with long life this uncomfortable voyage; and as soon as and happy years. He stroked me on the they could take possession of some small cheek, and said, “Child, if God pleaseth, it lodgings near the castle, which was occupied shall be so; but hoth you and I must subinit by the prince, she went to bed. A wretched to God's will; and you know what hands I bed it was: “and we had but three," she ob- || am in. Then, turning to my husband, he serves, “in the whole house ; which consisted || said, "Be sure, Dick, to tell my son all that of four rooms, or rather partitions, two low || I have said ; and deliver those letters to my rooms, and two little lofts, with a ladder to wife, pray God bless her! I hope I shall do go up to them ; in one of these they kept well ;' and taking him in his arms, added, dried fish, and in this my husband's two thou hast ever been an honest inan, and clerks lay; one room there was for my sister, I hope God will bless thee, and make thee one for myself, and one amongst the servants. || a happy servant to my son, whom I have When I awoke in the morning, I was so cold, charged in my letter to continue his love and I knew not what to do; but the day-light trust to you.... I do promise you, that if discovered that my bed was swimming with ever I am restored to my dignity, I will bounthe sea-water, which the owner told us after tifully reward you both for your service and wards, it never did but at spring-tide. With || sufferings.' Thus," continues Mrs. Fanshawe, this, we were destitute of clothes, ineat, and “ did we part from that glorious sun, that fuel; enough to serve half the court for a within a few months after was murdered, to month was not to be found in the whole is the grief of all Christians that were not forland; and truly we begged our daily bread || saken of God.” of God, for we thought every meal our last. The latter end of the same year Mr. FanThe council sent for provisions from France, l shawe went to Paris on his master's business, which served us ; but they were bad, and where his wife soon after joined him; but in little of them. Then, after three weeks and a few months he found it necessary to send odd days, we set sail for the isle of Jersey, her once more to London, in order to procure where we safely arrived, beyond the belief of | money for their subsistence. At that time all beholders from that island; for the pilot, || they had three children, of whom the eldest, not knowing the way into the harbour, sailed |a girl, was to accompany her mother to Engover the rocks; but being spring-tide and land. With a heavy heart Mrs. Fanshawe high-water, God be praised, his highness and took leave of her husband, to embark with all of us came safe to shore." her sister Margaret, another lady, and the The Prince of Wales soon after went to | little girl Nan, as she was familiarly called ; France; and Mr. Fanshawe's employment as and, but for the mercy of a protecting Provihis secretary ceasing for a time, he followed dence, the separation had been, in this life, his wife to London, whither she had gone final. A violent storm nearly wrecked their before to settle some affairs. They were ship on the coast of Kent, and with great obliged to live in great retirement, Mi. Fan- || difficulty the crew was saved ; the sailors shawe fearing to be imprisoned before he carrying the ladies on their shoulders through could complete his business in England, the 'surf — "glad,” as Mrs. Fanshawe ubwhich was no other than to raise a sufficient served, “ to escape so.” sum of money to enable him to rejoin the | The king having been unlawfully conprince his master, at that time in no condi- || demned to death by a small number of his tion to maintain his servants and followers. I rebellious subjects, supported by the soldiers, was beheaded on the 30th of January, 1649. || swords in their hands, searched for their His eldest son succeeded to the title as || commander, Jeffries, who, when he was loyal, Charles II. ; but he was a fugitive in foreign || had received many civilities from my hus. countries, residing chiefly in Holland, whilst || band. I told him it was necessary, upon England was governed by Oliver Cromwell, || that change, I should remove; and I desired who, with the army under his control, ruled || his pass, which would he obeyed, or else I more absolutely than any king had ever done must remain there: I hoped he would not in this country. deny me that kindness. He immediately Early in the same year Mr. Fanshawe, || wrote ine a pass, both for myself, family, and being with the young king in Flanders, re goods; and said, he would never forget the ceived his cominands to take charge of some || respect he owed Mr. Fanshawe. With this business of importance in Ireland, and find- || I came through thousands of naked swords ing, on his arrival there, a prospect, as he || to Red Abbey, and hired the next neighbelieved, of their being able to reside in that || bour's cart, which carried all that I could recountry with some degree of peace and com- || move: myself, sister, and little girl Nan, with fort, he sent for his wife, who lost no time in three maids and two men, set forth at five joining him with their eldest child. The do- || o'clock in November, having but two horses mestic comfort that Mr. and Mrs. Fanshawe || amongst us all, which we roile by turns. We had promised themselves, was, however, of went ten miles to Kinsale, in perpetual fear no long duration ; for, first, they had the of being fetched back again ; but, by little grief of learning the death of a little son, left || and little, I thank God, we got safe to the with some relations in England; and in the garrison, where I found my husband the course of a few weeks after, tidings came, most disconsolate man in the world, for fear that Cromwell, with his army, had landed in of his family, whom he had no possibility to Ireland. The house they occupied, called assist ; but his joy exceeded to see me and Red Abbey, was situated near the town of || his darling daughter, and to hear the wonCork, and that place very soon declared in || derful escape we, through the assistance of favour of the usurper. When Mrs. Fanshawe | God, had made. heard this alarming news, she was in bed " When the rebels went to give an account with a broken wrist, which having been ill || to Cromwell of their meritorious act (the capset occasioned her much suffering ; her hus- || ture of the town), heiminediately asked them, band, too, was absent, having gone to Kinsale * Where Mr. Fanshawe was ?' They replied, on business : but here she shall again speak || ‘He was that day gone to Kinsale.' Then he for herself: demanded, 'Where his papers and his family " It was in the beginning of November || were ? At which they all stared one at an1649. At midnight I heard the great guns | other, but made no reply. Their general go off, and thereupon I called up my family | said, 'It was as much worth to have seized to rise, which I did (myself) as well as I This papers as the town.'" could in that condition. Hearing lamentable | A few days after this event, Mr. Fanshawe shrieks of men, women, and children, I asked || received orders from the king to set off imat a window the cause; they told me they || mediately for Spain, to deliver letters from were all Irish, stripped and wounded, and him to the king of that country, Philip IV., turned out of the town; and that Colonel as well as to the ambassadors whoin he had Jeffries, with some others, had possessed at his court. It was decided that Mrs. Fanthemselves of the town for Cromwell. Upon || shawe should accompany her husband in this this, I immediately wrote a letter to my hus- || expedition, but a circumstance, which it is band, blessing God's providence that lie was || not material to relate, detained them in Irenot with me, persuading liim to patience, and || land till they could receive fresh instructions hope that I should get safely out of the town || from the king. When this business was setby God's assistance; and desired him to shift | tled, Mr. Fanshawe and his family set off for for himself, for fear of a surprise, with pro Galway, a sea-port town on the western coast mise that I would secure his papers. So soon of Ireland. This was not altogether a matter as I had finished iny letter, I sent it by a ll of choice; for the plague had raged at that faithful servant, who was let down the gar- l.place during the preceding summer; but den-wall of Red Abbey; and sheltered by || hearing that, by accident, a Dutch vessel was darkness of the night, he made his escape. || about to sail thence for Malaga in Spain, and I immediately packed up my husband's ca- || Croinwell pursuing his conquests “bloodily binet, with all his writings, and near 10001. and victoriously” in their rear, they resolved in gold and silver, with all other things that | to run the risk, and, as Mrs. Fanshawe exwere portable of value; and then, about three presses it, “ fall into the hands of God, rather o'clock in the morning, by the light of a taper, || than into the hands of man.” It was at the and in that pain I was in, I went into the | latter end of January that they reached Galmarket-place, with only a man and a maid ; || way; where, when they had, with some diffiand passing through an unruly tumult with culty, found the house in which they were to lodge, the master, who was standing at the || for her husband the means of joining the king, door expecting their arrival, welcomed them who was then in Scotland. to a depopulated city, whose streets were, as The people of Scotland, though a good deal he said, overgrown with grass : and when, divided amongst themselves, had agreed in early in the following month, they left his acknowledging, after a fashion, Charles II. house to go on board the ship, he, upon tak- l as their lawful sovereign; but it was not in ing leave of them, added, I thank God you ll their power to secure to him the crown even are all gone safe aboard from my house, not of their own country. Every where pursued withstanding I have buried nine persons out || by the victorious Cromwell, the king ventured of it within six months." " Which saying,” || to change the scene of action, and to lead a observes Mrs. Fanshawe, “startled us ; but, Scottish army into England. A battle was God's name be praised, we were all well, and fought near Worcester, which proved wholly so continued."* Mercifully preserved from disastrous to the royalists. Three thousand the sword and the plague, and afterwards, men were slain, ten thousand taken prisoners, by sea, from the danger of being attacked by of whom such as survived their wounds, or a Turkish ship of war, they landed safely at the hardships of a jail, were shipped off for Malaga; “living in hope that we should one || slaves to the West Indies. day return happily to our native country ; || The king escaped unwounded from the field notwithstanding we thought it great odds, of battle ; but a great reward being offered considering how the affairs of the king's three for his apprehension, it was no easy matter kingdoms stood: but we trusted in the pro for him to leave the kingdom. He travelled vidence of Alınighty God, and proceeded.” through the midland counties in various dis• At Madrid they remained about half a year; l guises ; at one time concealed in some loyal but his endeavours to obtain assistance for family amongst the gentry, at another owing the king his master from the court of Spain his safety to the fidelity of friends in humble proving unsuccessful, Mr. Fanshawe em- || life, and often very narrowly escaping detecbarked with his family for France; on which tion. Yet he finally eluded the vigilance of coast, after a passage rendered dangerous by his enemies, reached the coast of Sussex, and a violent storm and a drunken crew, they getting on board a small trading-vessel, crossed were at last safely landed. It was at the be- || to France. ginning of the third night of their tempestu Mr. Fanshawe, previous to his following ous voyage, that Mrs. Fanshawe records the || the king to Scotland, had written to his wife, mercy of God in causing the storm to cease ; || with the intention of preparing her for the but their feeling of safety in the succeeding || worst, entreating that she would put her calm was but comparative; the compass being trust in God, and arm herself with patience lost, and the sailors declaring that they knew | during his absence; especially as it would not where they were. “ And truly,” observes | not be possible for him to send her many letthe lady, “ we believed them ; for, with fear | ters. She was at that time living in London and drink, I think they were bereaved of || privately, but in good lodgings, and not extheir senses. So soon as it was day, about posed to any particular distress, excepting six o'clock, the master cried out, ' The land! | that which was occasioned by anxiety for her the land ! but we did not receive the news | husband's safety. Mrs. Fanshawe's feelings, with the joy belonging to it, but sighing said, || however, at this period will be best described • God's will be done! Thus the tide drove in her own words:-" With a heavy heart I us, till about five o'clock in the afternoon; // stayed in this lodging alınost seven months, when drawing near the side of a small rock, || and in that time I did not go abroad seven which had a creek by it, we ran aground; but | times; but spent my days in prayer to God the sea was so calm, that we all got out, with- || for the deliverance of the king, and my husout the loss of any man or goods. Thus, God | band, whose danger was ever before my eyes. be praised, we escaped this great danger, 1... The 2d of Sept. following was fought the and found ourselves about two leagues from battle of Worcester, when the king being Nantes. We hired six asses, upon which we || missed, and nothing heard of my husband rode, as many as could, by turns, and the being dead or alive for three days, it is inrest carried our goods. This journey took us | expressible what affliction I was in. I neiup all the next day.” ther eat nor slept, but trembled at every moFrom Nantes to Orleans the party pro- || tion I heard, expecting the fatal news, which ceeded by water, being towed up the river || at last came in their news-book, and menLoire, and then pursued their journey to tioned him as prisoner. Then with some Paris; where, after paying their respects to I hopes, I went to London” (Mrs. Fanshawe their former queen, the unfortunate widow of was at this time with her father in HertfordCharles I., Mr. and Mrs. Fanshawe continued || shire), “ intending to leave my little girl Nan, their journey to Calais. Here it was needful || the companion of my troubles, there, and so they should part; and Mrs. Fanshawe pro- | find out my husband wheresoever he was car. ceeded alone to England, in order to procure | 2 The enemy's news-book, or gazette. ried ; but upon my coming to London, I met of losing their eldest; the child who had been a messenger from him with a letter, which so constantly the companion of her mother advised me of his condition, told me he was during the many difficulties and dangers of very civilly used, and said little more, but her wandering life. Mrs. Fanshawe thus rethat I should be in some room at Charing cords this sad event:-" The house of TanCross, where he had promise from his keeper kersly and park are both very pleasant and that he should rest in my company at dinner good, and we lived there with great content; time. but God had ordered it should not last; for “ I expected himn with great impatience; upon the 20th of July, 1654, at three o'clock and on the day appointed provided a dinner in the afternoon, died our inost dearly beloved and room, as ordered, in which I was with my daughter Ann, whose beauty and wit exceedfather and some more of our friends; when ed all that ever I saw at her age. She was about eleven o'clock we saw hundreds of poor between nine and ten years old, very tall, and soldiers (both English and Scotch) march bare the dear companion of my travels and sor. of foot, and many with my husband, who was rows. She lay sick but five days of the smallvery cheerful in appearance. . . . After he had pox, in which time she expressed so many saluted me and his friends, he said: 'Pray wise and devout sayings as is a miracle at her let us not lose time ; for I know not how little years. We both wished to have gone into I have to spare: this is the chance of war; | the same grave with her. She was buried in nothing venture, nothing have: so let us sit Tankersly Church ; and her death made us down and be merry whilst we may:' then both desirous to quit this fatal place.” taking my hand in his, and kissing me, he In the year 1658 Oliver Cromwell died; added, Cease weeping—no other thing upon having governed the country during the last earth can move me ; remember we are all at five years under the title of Protector. His God's disposal.' death threatened to throw every thing again .“ Thus we passed the time, until order came into confusion; but the nation had had enough to carry him to Whitehall, where, in a little ll of war, and the greater part secretly desired room, he was kept prisoner, without specch the restoration of the royal family. In less of any (so far as they knew), ten weeks, and than two years from the death of Cromwell, in expectation of death. ... During the time this happy event came to pass; the king of his imprisonment, I failed not constantly being invited by both houses of parliament to go, when the clock struck four in the morn to return, and take possession of his kinging, with a dark lantern in my hand, all alone dom. Mr. and Mrs. Fanshawe had been for and on foot, from my lodgings to Whitehall. some time abroad, latterly in attendance on Then I would go under his window, and softly the king; and they formed part of the recall him ; he, after the first time excepted, || tinue which accompanied his majesty from never failed to put out his head at the first Holland. The following is Mrs. Fanshawe's call. Thus we talked together; and some account of this happy change in their affairs : times I was so wet with the rain, that it went “ Upon the king's restoration, the Duke of in at my neck and out at my heels." York, then made admiral, appointed ships to During this close confinement, Mr. Fan- | carry over the company and servants of the shawe became seriously ill; and his wife made | king..... His highness appointed for my frequent applications to Cromwell that he | husband and his family a third-rate frigate, inight, upon account of his health, be restored called the Speedwell; but his majesty comto a certain degree of liberty. Cromwell, who manded my husband' to wait on him in his had a respect for Mr. Fanshawe's character, ll own ship. . . . . We went on board upon the put her in a way of obtaining this favour || 23d of May, about two o'clock in the afterfrom the council ; and when Sir Henry Vane, noon—the king embarked at four of the clock, amongst others, spoke against it, insisting upon which we set sail; the shore being cothat at the least Mr. Fanshawe, before being vered with people, and shouts from all places released, should be made to take what was of a good voyage, which were seconded by then called the engagement, Cromwell amus many volleys of shot interchanged. ... But ingly observed, that “ he never knew before, I who can sufficiently express the joy and gal. the engagement was a remedy for the scor- lantry of that voyage? To see so many great butic.” Judging from these words that the || ships, the best in the world ; to hear the trumgeneral's wish was to favour the prisoner, the pets and all other music; the neatness and council ordered him his liberty upon bail ; || cleanness of the ships; the strength and joland we find that about three years afterwards, llity of the mariners; the gallantry of the Mr. and Mrs. Fanshawe and their three chil commanders!... The sea was calm, the moon dren, all they had then living, were residing shone at full, and the sun when it arose sufat Tankersly Park in Yorkshire, a place be | fered not a cloud to linder the prospect ... longing to their friend Lord Strafford. Here by whose light, and the merciful bounty of another daughter was born to them; but they | God, the king was set safely on shore at had the great affliction, a few months after, || Dover, in Kent, upon the 25th of May, 1660. |