In this house, upon the 12th day of July in 1656, I was delivered of a daughter, named Mary; and in this month died my second daughter, Elizabeth, that I had left with my sister Boteler, at Frog-Pool, to see if that air would recover her; but she died of a hectic fever, and lies buried in the church of Foots Cray. My husband, weary of the town, and being advised to go into the country for his health, procured leave to go in September to Bengy, in Hertford, to a little house lent us by my brother Fanshawe.
It happened at that time there was a very ill kind of fever, of which many died, and it ran generally through all families: this we and all our family fell sick of, and my husband's and mine after some months turned to quartan agues; but I being with child, none thought I could live, for I was brought to bed of a son in November,[Footnote: "This son, Henry, lies buried in Bengy church.">[ ten weeks before my time; and thence forward until April 1658, I had two fits every day, that brought me so low that I was like an anatomy. I never stirred out of my bed seven months, nor during that time eat flesh, nor fish, nor bread, but sage posset drink, and pancake or eggs, or now and then a turnip or carrot. Your father was likewise very ill, but he rose out of his bed some hours daily, and had such a greediness upon him, that he would eat and drink more than ordinary persons that eat most, though he could not stand upright without being held, and in perpetual sweats, and that so violent that it ran down day and night like water. This I have told you that you may see how near dying we were; for which recovery I humbly praise God. He got leave in August to go to Bath, which, God be praised! perfectly recovered us, and so we returned into Hertfordshire, to the Friary of Ware, which we hired of Mrs. Heydon for a year. This place we accounted happy to us, because in October we heard the news of Cromwell's death, upon which my husband began to hope that he should get loose of his fetters, in which he had been seven years; and going to London, in company with my Lord Philip, Earl of Pembroke, he lamented his case of his bonds to him that was his old and constant friend. He told him that if he would dine with him the next day, he would give him some account of that business. The next day he said to him, 'Mr. Fanshawe, I must send my eldest son into France; if you will not take it ill that I desire your company with him and care of him for one year, I will procure you your bonds within this week.' My husband was overjoyed to get loose upon any terms that were innocent, so, having seen his bonds cancelled, he went into France to Paris, from whence he by letter gave an account to Lord Chancellor Clarendon of his being got loose, and desired him to acquaint his Majesty of it, and to send him his commands, which was about April 1659. He did to this effect, that his Majesty was then going a journey, which afterwards proved to Spain; but upon his return, which would be about the beginning of winter, my husband should come to him, and that he should have, in present, the place of one of the Masters of Request, and the Secretary of the Latin Tongue. Then my husband sent me word of this, and bade me bring my son Richard, and my eldest daughters with me to Paris, for that he intended to put them to a very good school that he had found at Paris. We went as soon as I could possibly accommodate myself with money and other necessaries, with my three children, one maid, and one man. I could not go without a pass, and to that purpose I went to my cousin Henry Nevill, [Footnote: He was her cousin, being the second son of Sir Harry Nevill the younger, of Billingbere, in Essex, by Elizabeth, daughter of Sir John Smythe, of Ostenhanger, sister to the first Viscount Strangford.] one of the High Court of Justice, where he was then sitting at Whitehall. I told him my husband had sent for me and his son, to place him there, and that he desired his kindness to help me to a pass: he went in to the then masters, and returned to me, saying, 'that by a trick my husband had got his liberty, but for me and his children, upon no conditions we should not stir.' I made no reply, but thanked my cousin, Henry Nevill, and took my leave. I sat me down in the next room, full sadly to consider what I should do, desiring God to help me in so just a cause as I then was in. I began and thought if I were denied a passage then, they would ever after be more severe on all occasions, and it might be very ill for us both. I was ready to go, if I had a pass, the next tide, and might be there before they could suspect I was gone: these thoughts put this invention in my head.
At Wallingford House, the Office was kept where they gave passes: thither I went in as plain a way and speech as I could devise, leaving my maid at the gate, who was much a finer gentlewoman than myself. With as ill mien and tone as I could express, I told a fellow I found in the Office that I desired a pass for Paris, to go to my husband. 'Woman, what is your husband, and your name?' 'Sir,' said I, with many courtesies, 'he is a young merchant, and my name is Ann Harrison.' 'Well,' said he, 'it will cost you a crown:'—said I, 'That is a great sum for me, but pray put in a man, my maid, and three children.' All which he immediately did, telling me a malignant would give him five pounds for such a pass.
I thanked him kindly, and so went immediately to my lodgings; and with my pen I made the great H of Harrison, two ff, and the rrs, an n, and the i, an s, and the s, an h, and the o, an a, and the n, a w, so completely, that none could find out the change. With all speed I hired a barge, and that night at six o'clock I went to Gravesend, and from thence by coach to Dover, where, upon my arrival, the searchers came and demanded my pass, which they were to keep for their discharge. When they had read it, they said, 'Madam, you may go when you please;' but says one, 'I little thought they would give a pass to so great a malignant, especially in so troublesome a time as this.'
About nine o'clock at night I went on board the packet-boat, and about eight o'clock in the morning landed safe, God be praised! at Calais. I went to Mr. Booth's, an English merchant, and a very honest man. There I rested two days; but upon the next day he had advice from Dover, that a post was sent to stay me from London, because they had sent for me to my lodgings by a messenger of the Court, to know why, and upon what business, I went to France. Then I discovered to him my invention of the changing my name, at which as at their disappointment we all laughed, and so did your father, and as many as knew the deceit. We hired a waggon-coach, for there is no other at Calais, and began our journey about the beginning of June 1659.
Coming one night to Abbeville, the Governor sent his Lieutenant to me, to let me know my husband was well the week before, that he had seen him at Paris, and had promised him to take care of me in my going through his government, there being much robbery daily committing; that he would advise me take care of the garrison soldiers, and giving them a pistole a piece, they would convey me very safely. This, he said, the Governor would have told me himself, but that he was in bed with the gout; I thanked him, and accepted his proffer. The next morning he sent me ten troopers well armed, and when I had gone about four leagues, as we ascended a hill, says some of these, 'Madam, look out, but fear nothing.' They rid all up to a well-mounted troop of horse, about fifty or more, which, after some parley, wheeled about into the woods again. When we came upon the hill, I asked how it was possible so many men so well armed should turn, having so few to oppose them; at which they laughed, and said, 'Madam, we are all of a company, and quarter in this town. The truth is, our pay is short, and we are forced to keep ourselves this way; but we have this rule, that if we in a party guard any company, the rest never molest them, but let them pass free.'
I having passed all danger, as they said, gave them a pistole each man, and so left them and went on my journey, and met my husband at St. Dennis, God be praised! The 20th day of October, my then only son died of the small-pox; he lies buried in the Protestant Church, near Paris, between the Earl of Bristol and Doctor Steward. Both my eldest daughters had the small-pox at the same time, and though I neglected them, and day and night attended my dear son, yet it pleased God they recovered and he died, the grief of which made me miscarry, and caused a sickness of three weeks.
After this, in the beginnings of November, the King came to visit his mother, who was at her own house at Combes, two leagues from Paris, and thither went my husband and myself. I had not seen him in almost twelve years: he told me that if it pleased God to restore him to his kingdoms, my husband should partake of his happiness in as great a share as any servants he had. Then he asked me many questions of England, and fell into discourse with my husband privately two hours, and then commanded him to follow him to Flanders. His Majesty went the next day, my husband that day month, which was the beginning of December. I went with our family to Calais, and my husband sent me privately to London for money in January. I returned him one hundred and fifty pounds, with which he went to the King, and I followed to Newport, Bruges, and Ghent, and to Brussels, where the King received us very graciously, with the Princess Royal and the Dukes of York and Gloucester. After staying three weeks at Brussels, we went to Breda, where we heard the happy news of the King's return to England. In the beginning of May we went with all the Court to the Hague, where I first saw the Queen of Bohemia, who was exceeding kind to all of us. Here the King and all the Royal Family were entertained at a very great supper by the States; and now business of state took up much time.
The King promised my husband he should be one of the Secretaries of State, and both the now Duke of Ormond, and the Lord Chancellor Clarendon, were witnesses of it, yet that false man made the King break his word for his own accommodation, and placed Mr. Norris, a poor country gentleman of about two hundred pounds a year, a fierce Presbyterian, and one that never saw the King's face: but still promises were made of the reversion to your father.
Upon the King's restoration, the Duke of York, then made Admiral, appointed ships to carry over the company and servants of the King, who were very great. His Highness appointed for my husband and his family a third-rate frigate, called the Speedwell; but his Majesty commanded my husband to wait on him in his own ship. We had by the States' order sent on board to the King's most eminent servants, great store of provisions: for our family we had sent on board the Speedwell a tierce of claret, a hogshead of Rhenish wine, six dozen of fowls, a dozen of gammons of bacon, a great basket of bread, and six sheep, two dozen of neats' tongues, and a great box of sweetmeats. Thus taking our leaves of those obliging persons we had conversed with in the Hague, we went on board upon the 23rd of May, about two o'clock in the afternoon. The King embarked at four of the clock, upon which we set sail, the shore being covered with people, and shouts from all places of a good voyage, which was seconded with many volleys of shot interchanged: so favourable was the wind, that the ships' wherries went from ship to ship to visit their friends all night long. But who can sufficiently express the joy and gallantry of that voyage, to see so many great ships, the best in the world, to hear the trumpets and all other music, to see near a hundred brave ships sail before the wind with vast cloths and streamers, the neatness and cleanness of the ships, the strength and jollity of the mariners, the gallantry of the commanders, the vast plenty of all sorts of provisions; but above all, the glorious majesties of the King and his two brothers, were so beyond man's expectation and expression! The sea was calm, the moon shone at full, and the sun suffered not a cloud to hinder his prospect of the best sight, by whose light, and the merciful bounty of God, he was set safely on shore at Dover in Kent, upon the 25th [Footnote: Probably a mistake for the 26th] of May, 1660.