In the margin of the 11th chapter of Daniel, is written in good Old English:—
edward Carffre
1653. his Booke.
January the first.
The blood of the martyr is visible on Chapters 19 and 20 of Judges, and also on Chapters 1 and 3 of Zephania, where the leaves have closed on each other. But the greatest quantity is on the Book of Ruth, which is very much splashed with the vital fluid. Altogether, the Bible is a very precious relic, and its present possessor attaches to it great value, he having refused large sums of money that have been offered him for it.
Stephen Gratwicke, a Brighton man of respectable family, and of liberal education, was put to death in St. George’s Fields, Southwark, about the end of May, 1557. At his trial, before the Bishops of Winchester and Rochester, and a priest suborned to personate the Bishop of Chichester, he expostulated with his judges for keeping men a year or two in prison, “permittyng them not so much as a Testament to look upon, for their soules comfort.” To this the Bishop of Winchester replied:—“No, syr, we will use you as we will use the child, for if the child will hurt himself with a knife we will keepe the knife from him. So, because you will damme your soule with the Word, therefore you shall not have it!”
Chapter XVIII.
THE ESCAPE OF CHARLES II.
After the defeat at Worcester, on the 3rd of September, 1651, Charles II., on his arrival at Kidderminster, by the advice of the Earl of Derby, and under the guidance of Francis Yates, brother-in-law of Penderell, retired to “Boscobel,” a lone house on the borders of Staffordshire, where lived one Richard Penderell, a farmer, and his four brothers. By the aid of the Penderells, Charles clothed himself in the garb of a peasant, and carried a bill-hook with him into the woods, where daily he pretended to be employed cutting faggots. His only attendant at that time was Colonel Careless, a Roman Catholic. The suspicion of the Parliamentary army was, however, aroused by two strangers staying at such a lone place as Boscobel, and detachments of troops were, in consequence, sent in search of them, and it was then that Charles and Colonel Careless hid themselves in the branches of an oak tree. By the assistance of a Benedictine monk, named Hudleston, Lord Wilmot then joined the King, and by his proposition, they, with Penderell, repaired, at night, to the house of a Mr. Whitegrave, a Catholic gentleman residing some distance from Boscobel. The King, in relating his escape, used to say that the rustling of Richard’s calf-skin breeches was the best guide for him during the dark night’s walk. Here they were pursued by the parliamentarian army; and Colonel Lane, at whose house Lord Wilmot had been concealed, being made acquainted with the critical position of Charles, offered to conceal him in his house at Bentley. From there he retired to Bristol, at the house of Mr. Norton, a kinsman of Colonel Lane, in the hope of being able to obtain a passage to the continent, as “William,” the servant to Miss Jane Lane (sister of Colonel Lane), but no vessel would leave there for a month. Charles, being thus frustrated in his object, placed himself under the guardianship of Colonel Windham, of Dorsetshire, in whose charge he continued nine days, and then went to Heale, within three miles of Salisbury, where he remained until the necessary arrangements had been made by Lord Wilmot, for his passage from Brighthelmston to France.
Lord Wilmot, after receiving counsel from Dr. Hinchman, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury, tried at Lawrence Hyde’s Esq., living at Hinton Dambray, in Hampshire, near the sea, what could be done for a passage. Being unsuccessful there, he repaired to Colonel George Gounter, at Rackton, four miles from Chichester, who promised him every assistance in his power. On Wednesday, the 8th of October, the Colonel rode to Elmsworth (Emsworth), a fishing station two miles from Rackton; but as the boats were all away, the Colonel could do no good there. Colonel Gounter then, accompanied by Lord Wilmot, rode to Langstone, a place by the sea, and attempted in vain to arrange for a passage. Colonel Gounter and Lord Wilmot then received the co-operation of Captain Thomas Gounter, who went to Chichester, but was unsuccessful in his object. The Colonel upon this, conceived the next and best expedient, namely, of treating with a French merchant, a Mr. Francis Mancell, at Ovingdean Grange, whither he hastened, pretending to pay him a visit, and to become well acquainted with him. He was there courteously received, and entertained; and, after a while, he broke the business to Mancell, saying, “I do not only come to visit you; but to request one favour of you. I have two special friends who have been engaged in a duel, and there is mischief done, and I am obliged to get them off if I can. Can you fraught (freight) a bark?” Mr. Mancell said he doubted not he could at Brighthelmston. The Colonel pressed him to go immediately, promising, if the business was effected he would give him £50 for his pains; but it being Stock fair-day there, and his partner out of the way, he could not possibly until the next day. On the 10th October, the merchant went to Brighthelmston to enquire, but the seaman upon whom he could with the greatest certainty have depended, was gone to Chichester, he having bargained for a cargo there; fortunately, however, it touched at Shoreham, about four miles from Brighthelmston. Mr. Mancell, therefore, sent immediately to Shoreham, for the man, and on Saturday the 11th October, an agreement was made that he (the seaman), should have £60 paid him, before he took the parties into the boat. And it was arranged that he was to be in readiness at an hour’s warning. In the meantime, Mancell was to stay there, under pretence of freighting his bark, so as to see all things in readiness against the arrival of the Colonel and his two friends. The Colonel then returned to the house of Mr. Hyde, afterwards Chief Justice of the King’s Bench, with whom Lord Wilmot was staying, and broke the joyful intelligence to him, that all was in readiness; and it was arranged that Colonel Phillips should go for the King on the following day. This was effected, and the King, on horseback, escorted by Colonel Phillips, rode from Heale to Winchester, where they were met by Lord Wilmot, Colonel Gounter, and Captain Gounter, who accompanied them to Brawde Halfe-penny, a little above Hambledon, where Charles expressed a wish that lodgings should be procured in the neighbourhood, and he was consequently conducted to the house of Colonel Phillips’s sister, at the rear of Hambledon; where, after partaking of a hearty supper, Charles retired to rest, being much fatigued by his long ride of 40 miles that day. At the break of day the following morning, the party took their leave of Hambledon, and on coming to Arundel, rode close by the castle, where they were met full butt by Captain Morley, the Governor, but whom they happily escaped, and then passed on by Howton to Bramber. The remaining portion of the journey is found thus fully detailed in a very curious and recherche article which, about forty years since came into the possession of the British Museum, and is entitled “The last Act, in the miraculous storie of his Mties. escape; being a true and perfect revelation of his conveyance, through many dangers, to a safe harbour; out of the reach of his tyranical enemies; by Colonel Gunter; of Racton in Sussex; who had the happiness to be instrumental in the business, (as it was taken from his mouth by a person of worth a little before his death.)”—“Being come to Bramber, we found the streets full of soldiers, on both sides the houses; whoe unluckily and unknowne to me were come thither the night before, to guard; but luckily (or rather by a speciall Providence) were just then come from their guard at Bramber bridge, unto the towne [126] for refreshment. We came upon them unawares, and were seen, before we suspected anything. My Lord Wilmot was ready to turne back, when I stept in and said: ‘If we do, wee are undone.’ ‘He saith well,’ saith the King. I went before, hee followed, and soe passed through, without any hinderance. It was then betweene three and fower of the clock in the afternoone. We went on; but had not gone farre, but a new terror pursued us; the same soldiers riding after us as fast as they could. Whereupon the King gave me a hem! I slacked my pase, till they were come upp to me and by that tyme, the soldiers were come, whoe rudely passed by us (beeing in a narrow lane) soe that we could hardly keepe our saddles for them; but passed by without any further hurt; being some 30 or 40 in number. When we were come to Beeding, a little village where I had provided a treatment for the King (one Mr. Bagshall’s house) I was earnest that his Matie. should stay there a whyle, till he had viewed the coast: But my Lord Wilmot would by noe meanes, for feare of those soldiers, but carried the King out of the road, I knew not whither, soe we parted; they were they thought safest, I to Brightemston; being agreed they should send to me, when fixed any where, and ready. Being come to the said Brightemston, I found all clear there, and the Inne (the George) free from all strangers att that tyme. Having taken the best roome in the house and bespoken my supper; as I was entertaining myselfe with a glass of wine; the King, not finding accommodation elsewhere to his mind was come to the Inne; then upp comes mine hoast (one Smith by name). ‘More guests,’ saith he; he brought them into another room, I taking noe notice. It was not long, but drawing towards the King’s roome, I heard the King’s voice, saying aloud to Lord Wilmot, ‘Here, Mr. Barlow, I drinck to you.’ ‘I know that name’ said I to my hoast, there by me; ‘I pray enquire, and whether he were not a Major in the King’s Army.’ Which done, he was found to bee the man, whome I expected; and presently invited, as was likely, to the fellowship of a glass of wine. From that I proceeded and made a motion to join companie, and because my chamber was largest that they might make use of it. Which was accepted, and soe we became one companie againe. At supper the King was cheereful, not showing the least signe of fear or apprehension of danger; neyther then nor att any tyme during the whole course of this busines. Which is no small wonder, considering that the very thought of his ennemies soe great, and soe many; soe diligent, and soe much interested in his ruine; was enough, as long as he was within their reach, and as it were, in the very middest of them, to have daunted the stoutest courage in the world. As if God had opened his eyes, as he did Elisha’s servant, at his master’s request, and he had seene a heavenly hoast round about him to guard him: which to us was visible, who therefore, though much encouraged by his undauntedness, and the assurance of soe good and glorious a cause; yet were not without secret terrors within ourselves, and thought every minute a day, a month, till they should see his sacred person out of their reach. Supper ended, the King stood his back against the fyer, leaning over a chaire. Up comes mine host (upon some jealousie, I guess not any certain knowledge;) but up comes him who called himself Gaius, runs to the King, catcheth his hand and kissing it, said: ‘It shall not be said but I have kissed the best man’s hand in England.’ He had waited at table at supper, where the boateman also sate with us and were then present. Whether he had feare, or heard any thing that could give him any occasion of suspicion, I knowe not. In very decde, the King had a hard taske, soe to carry himself in all things, that he might be in nothing like himselfe: Majesty being so naturall upon him, that even when hee said nothing, did nothing, his very lookes (if a man observed) were enough to betray him. It was admirable to see the King (as though he had not been concerned in these words, which might have soumded in the ears of another man as the sentence of death) turned about in silence, without any alteration of countenance or taking notice of what had been said. About a quarter of an hour after, the King went to his chamber, where I followed him and craved his pardon with earnest protestation that I was innocent, soe altogether ignorant of the cause how this had hapened. ‘Peace, peace, Colonel,’ said the King, ‘the fellow knowes mee, and I him. He was one (whether or not, I know not; soe the King thought att the tyme) that belonged to the back stairs of my father; I hope he is an honest fellow.’ After this I began to treat with the boatman (Tettersfield by name) asking him in what readiness he was. He answered, he could not of that night, because for more security he had brought his vessel into a breake and the tyde had forsaken it: so that it was on ground. It is observable that all the whyle this business had been in agitation to this very time, the wind had been contrarie. The king then opening the wenddowe, tooke notice that the wind was turned, and told the master of the shipp. Whereupon, because of the wind, and a cleere night, I offered £10 more to the man to gett off that night. But that could not be. However, we agreed that he should take in his company that night. But it was a great business that we had in hand; and God would have us to knowe soe, both by the difficulties that offered themselves, and by his helpe he afforded to remove them. When we thought we had agreed, the boatman starts back and saith, ‘noe, except I would ensure the barke.’ Argue it we did with him, how unresoanable it was, beeing soe well paid, &c., but to no purpose, soe that I yielded att last, and £200 was his valuation, which was agreed upon. But then, as though he had been resolved to frustrate all by unreasonable demands, he required my bond. At which, moved with much indignation, I began to be as resolut as he; saying, among other things, ‘there were more boates to bee had, besydes his; if he would not another should,’ and made as though I would go to another. In this contest the king happily interposed. ‘He saith right,’ saith his Matie., ‘a gentleman’s word, especially before witnesses, is as good as his bond.’ At last the man’s stomach came downe, and carrie them he would, whatever became of it; and before he would be taken he would run his boate under the water. Soe it was agreed that about tooe in the morning they should be aboard. The boateman in the meanetyme went to provide for necessaries, and I persuaded the king to take some rest. He did, in his cloaths, and my Lord Wilmot with him, till towards tooe in the morning. Then I called them up, showing them how the tyme went by my watch. Horses being ledd by the back way towards the beache, we came to the boat, and found all readie. Soe I took my leave, craving his Maties. pardon if anthing had happened through error, not want of will or loyalty. How willingly I would have waited further, but for my family (being many) which would want mee, and I hoped his Matie. would not, not doubting but in a very little tyme he should be where he would. My only request to his Mtie. was that he would conceal his instruments, wherein their preservation was so much concerned. His Matie. promised noebody should know. I abided there keeping the horses in readiness in case anything unexpected had happened. At 8 o’clock I saw them on sayle, and it was the afternoon before they were out of sight. The wind (O Providence) held very good till the next morning, to ten of the clock brought them to a place of Normandie called Fackham, some three miles from Havre de Grace, 15 Oct. Wenseday. They were no sooner landed but the wind turned, and a violent storme did arise, in soe much that the boateman was forced to cut his cable, lost his anchor to save his boate, for which he required of me £8, and had it. The boate was back againe at Chichester, by Friday, to take his fraught. I was not gone out of the town of Brighthelmston twoe houres, but soldiers came thither to search for a tall man 6 foot and 4 inches high.”
By the foregoing it will be seen that Charles never visited, much less slept at Ovingdean Grange, as has been stated by some historical writers, playwrights, and writers of romance. [130]
The vessel in which Charles escaped, was the “Surprise,” the property of Captain Nicholas Tettersell, whose virtues are engraved upon his tomb in the Old Church-yard,—vide Chapter XVI. The vessel was a brig which had been detained a few years previously, in the Downs, by a royal squadron, on her way from Newcastle, with a cargo of coals, but was released by a personal order of Charles, then Prince of Wales, whose features were consequently known to Tettersell, notwithstanding the king’s attempt to disguise himself. The brig at the time of the engagement with Tettersell, was half laden with coals, and the sailors were in a great measure disengaged from duty. In order, therefore, to collect them without exciting suspicion, he announced that she had broken from her moorings. By this means, having got his crew on board, he signified to them his engagement in a secret expedition, in which their service should not go unrewarded. Matters being thus prudently adjusted, Tettersell went ashore by himself, in order to get a bottle of spirits, and to inform his wife that he should be absent for a few days. Curiosity urging the good woman to dive into the mystery of so sudden and unreasonable a departure, he was at last constrained by her importunity to reveal to her the nature of the service he had undertaken; and she, with a fortitude and fidelity which reflect a lustre on her memory, earnestly exhorted him to an honourable performance of his engagement with the illustrious fugitive. It is recorded by Baker, in his Chronicles, that in the course of the day, as the king, who still retained his disguise, that of a Puritan, was sitting on the deck, one of the sailors stood close to windward of him smoking his pipe, and on being rebuked by the captain for making so free, retired, muttering, “truly a cat may look at a king,” but without being aware how personally apposite the adage was.
After the Restoration, Tettersell, in 1671, in consideration of his loyal services, was appointed by James, Duke of York, (then Lord High Admiral of England,) Captain of the “Royal Escape,” as a fifth-rate; and the year ensuing, the king granted the reversion of that sinecure to his son.