“W. Penderell (to the King).—Sire, disguise is your first need, henceforth your title must not pass
Our lips; here in this chimney rub your hands
And then transfer the blackness to your face.
We must in, and clothe you in a rustic suit
Of green, with leathern doublet and a noggain shirt
For we have heard that troops have come to Codsall
But three miles off, under the traitor Ashenhurst.
Haste! Haste! and when your rough disguise is donned
We must take shelter in the thick Spring Coppice,
The darkest covert Boscobel doth claim.“Scene 4. Richard Penderell’s house at Hobbal Grange. Enter the King, old Mrs. Penderell, and her son Richard.
“The King.—We must not stop here long, the air is full of spies,
The night now favours us; no moon nor stars
Shine out to show us to our enemies.
Let’s hence to Wales, fidelity lives there
More than on English soil. Oft have I read
Of their unvarying faith to those they served,
What straits and stratagems they felt and wrought,
To save misfortune’s sons from grievous fates.“R. Penderell.—We must disguise you more;
Rub well your hands in the wet dirt,
Here, take this bill, a woodman you must be,
And for a name let William Jones suffice;
Shew no dread, but speak few words,
For fear they should betray your better teaching.
Come, let’s away, I have a friend at Madeley,
Wolfe by name, faithful and trusty.”
William Penderell acting as barber, the king was eased of his royal locks, his hands and face were toned down to that of a country labourer, and he sallied forth, wood-bill in hand, in the direction of Madeley, with “a country-fellow,” whose borrowed suit he travelled in. To understand his majesty’s toilet the reader must conceive the royal person in a pair of ordinary grey cloth breeches—“more holy than the wearer”—rather roomy in the slack; a leathern doublet, greasy about the collar; hose much darned; shoes that let in dirt and wet to the royal feet—ventilators in their way; and above all a sugar-loaf hat, rain proof by reason of grease, turned up at the sides, the corners acting as water-spouts. Thus disguised, the rain pouring in torrents, on a dark night, along a rough by-road, “guided by the rustling sound of Richard’s calf-skin breeches,” through mud and mire, over ruts, plunging now and then into swollen streams, the king and his guide travelled in the direction of Madeley. Slamming the gate at Evelyth bridge, in the middle of the night, brought out the miller, who ordered them to stand, and raised an outcry of “Rogues, rogues.” Foot-sore and weary, resolving sometimes to go no farther, then plucking up their spirits and trudging on, the house of Mr. Wolfe, who had “hiding holes for priests,” was reached, where the king slept in a barn.
Hearing from Mr. Wolfe’s son, who had escaped from Shrewsbury, that every bridge and boat were in the possession of the Roundheads, so that escape in that direction was hopeless, it was decided to advise his majesty to return. Mr. Wolfe, according to Pepys, persuaded the king to put on “a pair of old green yarn stockings, all worn and darned at the knees, with their feet cut off, to hide his white ones, for fear of being observed;” and Mrs. Wolfe having again had recourse to walnut-juice for the purpose of deepening the tone upon the royal face, he again set out in the direction of Boscobel. The king, in the diary above quoted, is made to say:—
“So we set out as soon as it was dark. But, as we came by the mill again, we had no mind to be questioned a second time there; and therefore asking Richard Penderell whether he could swim or no, and how deep the river was, he told me it was a scurvy river, not easy to be past in all places, and that he could not swim. So I told him, that the river being a little one, I would undertake to help him over. Upon which we went over some closes to the river side, and I, entering the river first, to see whether I could myself go over, who knew how to swim, found it was but a little above my middle; and thereupon taking Richard Penderell by the hand, I helped him over.”
They reached Boscobel at five o’clock on the morning of Saturday, September 6th. Penderell, leaving the king in the wood, went to the house to reconnoitre. All was secure, and he found Colonel Carless, who was also hiding at Boscobel. He had been an active soldier throughout the war. His presence cheered the tired and wandering monarch, who now for the first time was brought into the house, and sitting by the fire was refreshed with bread and cheese and a warm posset of beer, prepared by W. Penderell’s wife, Joan, who also brought him warm water to bathe his feet, and dried his shoes by placing in them hot embers. After a short slumber the king was aroused by his anxious attendants, he not being safe in the house in the daylight. With Colonel Carless he then climbed into an oak tree that stood a few yards from the house, at some distance from the other trees. It had been lopped or pollarded, some years before, and in consequence had grown very bushy, and afforded a good hiding-place. They took provisions for the day with them. Screened from view, the king, resting his head on the knees of Carless, slept soundly for some time. The king, in his narrative, as recorded by Pepys, says:—“While we were in the tree we saw soldiers going up and down in the thickets of the wood, searching for persons escaped, we seeing them now and then peeping out of the wood.”
Saturday evening brought darkness, of which the fugitives availed themselves by going into the house, and Penderell’s wife, Dame Joan, provided a dainty dish of roast chickens for the king’s supper. That being over, the king retired to a hiding-hole at the top of the stairs, where a pallet was laid ready, and there he passed the night. On Sunday morning the king arose refreshed, and passed the day partly at his devotions, partly in watching, and partly reading in the garden. We must not forget to mention that he cooked his meat, frying some collops of mutton. Meanwhile, John Penderell had gone in search of Lord Wilmot, whom he found at Moseley Hall with Mr. Whitgreave, and in the evening he returned, bringing tidings that the king could be received at Moseley. Whereupon Charles, taking leave of Carless, set out on Humphrey Penderell’s (the miller’s) horse, attended by the five Penderells and their brother-in-law, Yates, well armed with bills and pike-staves, as well as pistols. The king complained of the rough motion of the horse. “Can you blame the horse, my liege,” said the honest miller, “to go heavily, when he has the weight of three kingdoms on his back?” At Moseley Hall the king remained from Sunday night till Tuesday evening, when Colonel Lane came from Bentley, bringing a horse for him. Being dressed in a suit of grey hose, and with the name of Jackson, he acted as serving-man to Miss Jane Lane, rode before her, and eventually embarked for France, which country after many narrow escapes, he reached safely on the 16th of October.
To Mr. Wolfe, of Madeley, the king presented a very handsome silver tankard with the inscription, “Given by Charles the Second, at the Restoration, to F. Wolfe, of Madeley, in whose barn he was secreted after the defeat at Worcester, 1651.” The tankard is now in the possession of W. Rathbone, Esq., of Liverpool, but a print of it hangs in the old house. The tankard has upon the cover a coat of arms: the crest is a demi-wolf supporting a crown. In the hall there is an old panel, which was cut out of the wainscoating of the dining-room, with the initials, thus:—
F. W. M.
1621.
In the church register we find the burial of Barbara Wolfe, January 13th, 1660; of Ann Wolfe, September 19th, 1672; of Francis Wolfe, December 7th, 1665; and of Sarah Wolfe, late wife of Francis Wolfe, January 10th, 1698.
The house is a very old one, and Mr. Joseph Yate, of the Hall, close by, says he remembers his father telling him that in former times it was “a house of entertainment.” The barn which is not more than twenty feet from the house, afterwards became the Market House, the butchers’ shambles being still discernible. The upper portion was rebuilt, or cased, a few years ago, but the old timber skeleton remains.