It is a pity that the memorials of a family so ancient and distinguished, and so connected with the early history of Madeley, have not been better preserved. There must, one would think, have been mural monuments of a costly kind in the old church, seeing that the family lived at the Court for two centuries and a half at the least.
The stone of which the house was built was quarried near the spot, but the shelly limestone covering for the roof must have been brought from Acton Burnell, or somewhere near. It is from the pentamerous beds of the Caradoc sandstone. The house is supplied with spring-water by pipes from an ancient reservoir on the high ground near where the stone used was probably quarried.
King Charles’s Visit to, and Concealment at, Madeley.
The first indication we find at Madeley of the troubled times which ushered in the most remarkable episode in the history of the 17th century is an entry in the church register, under date of April 14, 1645, informing us that on the above date one William Caroloso was buried, the church at the time being garrisoned by a Parliamentary regiment, commanded by Captain Harrington. A page of history was being written which in all future times would be read with interest; agencies, the growth of centuries, had been developed; struggles for political and polemical equality had disturbed the stagnation of ages. The injustice of the courts, the persecutions, pillorings, and beheadings of reformers and standard-bearers of truth, and the weakness and insincerity of monarchs, had culminated in revolution, and six years later the weak vacillating monarch, Charles II., after the battle of Worcester, where 3,000 of his army had been left upon the field, came a fugitive to Madeley. The story of his flight, his disguise, and of his lodging in “Wolfe’s bam,” is an episode in history that illustrates the vicissitudes of life, affords a startling lesson to royalty, and brings into relief the devotion and faithfulness of those in humble spheres to others when in misfortune. Having ridden in hot haste from Worcester, and fallen in with the Earls Buckingham, Derby, Wilmot, and others, “I strove,” he tells us, “as soon as it was dark, to get them to stand by me against the enemy, I could not get rid of them now I had a mind to it, having, afterwards slipt away from them by a by-road when it was dark.”
The story of his retreat through Kidderminster, where Richard Baxter describes the balls flying all night, and the hurried northward flight under the trusty scout, Master Walker; then the second pause of terror on Kinver Heath; the stolen and breathless flight through Stourbridge; the short and poor refreshment at Kingswinford; and the long gallop to the White Ladies;—the whole flight being certainly forty miles—has been so often told as to be familiar to the reader.
These and other incidents of the flight have been worked up in a drama, in five acts, by Mr. George Griffiths, of Bewdley. Scene 2 is laid at the White Ladies (nine miles from Wolverhampton and one from Brewood, now occupied by Mr. Wilson).
“Enter Col. Roscarrock, Richard Penderell, of Hobbal Grange, Edward Martin, a servant, and Bartholemew Martin, a boy in the house.
“Col. Roscarrock (to the boy Martin):
Come hither, boy, canst thou do an errand,
And speak to no one on the road to Boscobel?“Boy.—That I can, Sir, without reward or fee;
Trust me, I will not say one word
To any he or she, so tell me what’s my duty.“Col. Roscarrock.—Go off to Boscobel the nearest road,
And one that fewest folks do travel by.
Tell William Penderell to hasten hither,
Without a minute’s stopping,
And should he ask thee why and wherefore,
Tell him Good Master Giffard wants him here
Without delay, and see thou com’st back with him;
And shouldst thou meet or pass folks on the road,
Say nought unto them as to where thou’rt going
Or what thy errand is. Haste, and some coin
Shall warm thy pocket if thou mind’st my words.“Boy.—Aye, aye, sir, humble boys have sharpish wits.
Because their simple food keeps them in health;
I’se warrant the Squire’s son, though so well fed,
Cannot leap gates like I, or ride a horse
Barebacked across the hedges of our farm.
Aye, aye, sir, I can keep my counsel, too;
I know a hay-fork from a noble’s sword,
And I do feel that with my harvest fork
I could defend a king as stoutly
As those who carry golden-handled swords.
I go, and no man, no, nor woman either,
Shall coax one word from off my faithful tongue.[Exit.
“Col. Roscarrock.—See now, how this young varlet guesses all,
His eye alone told all I thought unknown;
Well, trusty friends dwell oft in rustic hearts
With more sincerity than in the breasts
Of those who fill the highest offices.”
Boscobel was selected upon the suggestion of the Earl of Derby, who, defeated and wounded on the 25th of August, 1651, at the battle of Wigan, by the Parliamentary forces under Colonel Lilburn, found his way hither whilst seeking to join Charles at Worcester, and who, after four or five days rest here, went on, and reached Worcester on the eve of the famous battle.
Boscobel, so named, as we have seen, by Sir Basil Brooke, of the Court House, Madeley, on account of its beautiful and well-wooded situation, and built ostensibly as a hunting-lodge, but in reality as a hiding-place for priests, amid the sombre forest of Brewood, was often used for the purpose for which it was designed, as well as a shelter for distressed Cavaliers.
The story of the disfigurement of Charles, and his crouching wet and weary in the woods, has been often told in prose and verse. We quote Griffiths again:—