MEMOIRS OF THE VERNEY FAMILY

VOL. IV.

MEMOIRS OF THE VERNEY FAMILY

FEOM THE

RESTORATION TO THE REVOLUTION

1660 TO 1696

COMPILED FROM THE LETTERS AND ILLUSTRATED BY THE PORTRAITS AT CLAYDON HOUSE BY

MARGARET M. VERNEY

' Oblivion may not cover All treasures hoarded by the miser, Time

BLACKNALL MONUMENT AT ABINGDON

VOL. IV

LONGMANS, GEEEN, AND CO.

39 PATERN'OSTER ROW, LONDON NEW YORK AND BOMBAY

1899

All rights reserved

DR 377 '2

l/5fl3

v/,4

PREFACE

TO

THE FOUBTH VOLUME

THIS concluding volume of the ' Verney Memoirs ' carries the reader from the Restoration to the reign of William and Mary, and the year 1696, when Sir Ealph Verney is gathered to his fathers.

The letters are so numerous during these thirty- six years, that many topics of interest they contain have been left untouched ; all that could be aimed at was (as a modern philosopher puts it) to present ' these interminable mile-post piles of matter, in essence, in chosen samples, digestibly.'

My thanks are due to the Eev. Llewellyn J. Kenyon Stow, Vicar of Steeple Claydon, for his help and encouragement throughout this task; to the Eev. Herbert E. D. Blakiston, Senior Tutor of Trinity College, Oxford, for the trouble he has taken, with his special knowledge, to elucidate the corre- spondence of the undergraduate at Trinity, in the reign of James II. ; to Miss Butterfield for kind per- mission to use the Eev. W. Butterfield's journal in her possession ; and to other friends and correspondents.

VI VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

In tracing the family history, Sir Ealph Verney is still the central figure round which all the others are grouped. His lifelong friend, Sir Eoger Burgoyne, has drawn this portrait of him in his sixtieth year : ' However you come by it, you have the quickest intelligence of any man I know. . . . You are now become, I think, the Grenerall Trustee of all that know you. Your Charity, Piety, & Friend- ship, though it bringe much outward trouble, yet I am confident it is attended with a great deal of inward contentment ; it is so naturall to you soe to do kind- nesses to your friends, that I beleeve the pleasure they have in the favours they receive, cannot exceed that you take yourself in those you give.'

His Puritanism was so graciously compounded, that it was to him his grandchildren and their friends appealed if a wild young spark was to be got out of a scrape that threatened the gallows, or a damsel, gentle or simple, was disappointed in love. ' Tell me not of yr age,' writes his favourite sister when he was already an elderly man, ' for I am resolved to think you but 40 years old this twenty years, if I live so long, for more than that I would not have you, so long as I live, but whatever your age is, I thank God yr infirmities are not so many as most young men have.'

In more settled times the veteran Parliament-

PREFACE TO THE FOURTH VOLUME Vll

man might have been content with his useful and happy home-life, but the growing encroachments of the Crown brought him once more to the front ; he took an active share in the elections of 1681 and '85, when he was twice returned for the Borough of Buckingham in opposition to the Government. Strong Protestant as he was, his sympathies were entirely with James II. against Monmouth, and it required all the injudicious acts of that misguided monarch to alienate Sir Ealph completely, and to make him rejoice in the accession of William and Mary. He was a member of the Convention Parlia- ment in old age, which consolidated the work the Long Parliament of his youth had begun.

' The subject is but dull in itself,' says Fuller, 6 to tell the time & place of men's births & deaths, their names, etc. & therefore this bare skeleton of Time, Place <fy Person must be fleshed with some pleasant passages . . . that so the Eeader if he do not arise . . . with more Piety or Learning, at least he may depart with more pleasure & lawful delight.'

MARGARET M. VERNEY.

CLAYDON HOUSE, WINSLOW : October 20, 1898.

CONTENTS

OF

THE FOUETH VOLUME

PAGE

PREFACE v

LIST OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS v . . . xiii

CHAPTEE I.

THE WOOING OF MAEY ABELL, 1660-1662.

William Abell— The village and manor house of East Claydon — Squire AbelTs loyalty — Restoration rejoicings — Charles II.'s coronation — Arrival of Catherine of Braganza — Death of Squire Abell — Mr. Butterfield negotiates a marriage — Betty Verney at Goring and in London — Valentines at East Claydon — Squire Duncombe's courtship — A careless suitor — Marriage of Edmund Verney and Mary Abell— The honey- moon— Guests at Claydon — Penelope's woes — A sham letter to John Denton — Betty's * stolen matching ' — A little cloud . 1

CHAPTEE II. IN CHANCERY LANE, 1662-1665.

Sir Nathaniel and Lady Hobart remove to Chancery Lane — Sir Ealph, Edmund, and Mary share the house with them — Mary's melancholy — Mr. Butterfield concerning Edmund's land — Visits to Croweshall and Milner — Second winter in Chancery Lane — Mary's increasing insanity — Sir Ealph's estrangement from her — Edmund nurses her through measles and small- pox— Debate on the Trienniall Bill — Mary ' starck mad '— Her physicians and treatment — Edmund and Mary return to East Claydon — Their housekeeping and Christmas entertain- ments . 39

X VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

CHAPTER III. SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS, 1661-1665.

PAGE

Henry Verney and his horses — John Denton's death — Penelope keeps house for Henry— Margaret Elmes and her husband — Gary Gardiner, her children and stepchildren — ' Adam and Eve' in search of a living — Tom and his forsaken wife — Marriage of George Nicholas and Nancy Denton — The Nicholas family — Dr. Denton's theology — Doll Leeke at the White House 83

CHAPTER IV.

THE PLAGUE AND THE FIRE, 1665-1666

The plague in London — Remedies suggested: Quicksilver, misseh- toe, garlic, unicorn's horn, &c. — Lady Elmes at Knares- borough Spa — The plague in Bucks — Aylesbury Gaol — The Court at Oxford — The Hobarts desire lodgings — Dr. Yate of Brazenose — Doll Leeke's illness and death — The plague at Winchester and Southampton — Lady Hobart's woes in the Fire of London — Loss of property and confusion after the fire 116

CHAPTER V.

JOHN VERNEY AT ALEPPO, 1662-1674.

English merchants in the Levant trade — Intrigues at Aleppo — An apprentice's trials — Small business profits — Journey to Jerusalem — The plague at Aleppo — Home news delayed — John's return — Schemes of marriage — Mr. Edwards' daughter — Failure of a mercenary courtship 146

CHAPTER VI.

THE SQUIRE OF EAST CLAYDON, 1665-1679.

Mun's corpulence, his clothes, and his cares — Birth of his son Ralph — Mary's recurring madness — Steward Dover — The waiting-gentlewoman and the maids — Deaths of Aunt Isham and Ursula Verney — Jaconiah Abercromby and a friend visit the White House — The burden of entertaining — Dinners and card-playing — Sir Ralph one of Clarendon's pall-bearers —

CONTENTS OF THE FOURTH VOLUME XI

PAGE

Death of Henrietta Maria and of Monk — Death of Margaret Elmes — Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans — Anne Hyde's death- bed— Death of Henry Verney — Marriage of Penelope and Sir John Osborne — Mun longs to go to the Dutch War — Deaths of Sir Nathaniel Hobart and Mrs. Denton — William Butterfield, Eector — Schooling for Mun's boys . . . 165

CHAPTER VII.

UNDER THE MERRY MONARCH, 1675-1685.

Social life of the reign — Dinners — Weddings — Races — Balls — Private theatricals — Street brawls — Ormond attacked — Duels — Judge Hale — Death of Sir R. Burgoyne — Marriage of William and Mary — Difficulty of raising troops — Uniform of the Guards — The Lees of Ditchley — Lord Rochester — Mar- riage of John Verney and Elizabeth Palmer — The Exclusion Bill — The rival Dukes of York and Monmouth — Address to the King from the town of Wycombe — Rye House Plot — Death of John Stewkeley — Gary Gardiner's infatuation for cards . 222

CHAPTER VIII.

SAINT NICHOLAS' CLERKS, 1655-1685.

Exploits of highwaymen — Dangers of the road — The Dawsons — Henry Verney's reputation — Sir George Wheler's courtship —Fred Turville's hanging — Dick Hals' career — At the Bar — Sojourn in Newgate — On board H.M.S. ' Revenge ' — In the Dutch War — In Exeter Gaol — In Chehnsford Gaol — Made a bailiff — Assists at a village wedding — Hung at Tyburn . . 281

CHAPTER IX.

SOME BUCKS ELECTIONS OF 1685.

Death of Charles II. — Sir Ralph stands for Buckingham — Electioneering morality — The Assizes- — The candidates — Sir Richard Pigott's funeral — Election gossip — The fight for the county — Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys — Great Whig victory — Coronation of James II. — Sir Ralph is returned and takes his seat — Death of Lady Gawdy — Monmouth's rising — His exe- cution— Sir Ralph's colds, and the prescribed remedies — Twyford allotments 318

Xll VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

CHAPTER X.

AN OXFORD UNDERGRADUATE IN THE REIGN OF JAMES II., 1685-1688.

PAGE

Edmund Verney at Trinity College — An undergraduate's outfit —Loyalty in Oxford — The vacation— Lady Gardiner as a match-maker — Death of young Ralph — Speaking in the theatre — Riding, fencing, and other recreations — Edmund reported for sleeping out, and shirking afternoon lectures — Smallpox in the college — Mun's expenses — A dislocated elbow — The Daventry bonesetter — The study of chemistry — Mourning suits 361

CHAPTER XI.

THE REVOLUTION AND ITS PROLOGUE, 1686-1689.

The Church deserts ' Nero ' — Collections for the French Pro- testants— State of the army — Duels amongst officers — Mrs. John Verney's death and burial — Sir Ralph's failing health — Hester Denton — Marriage of Jenny Nicholas — Attack on Magdalen College — Declaration of Indulgence — Birth of the Prince of Wales— The Seven Bishops — The Royal christening — Death of Edmund Verney — The heavy burdens left to his heir — War in the air — Flight of James — Jeffreys' fall — The Irish night — William's critics 409

CHAPTER XII. EXEUNT SEVERALLY, 1689-1696.

The last years of Sir Ralph's relations, Tom, Penelope, Gary, Mary, Betty, and Dr. Denton — Death of young Edmund of East Claydon — Molly's mourning — Her tippet and her maid — Her ' stolen maching ' with John Keeling — Her death and that of her child — Death of Mary Verney, nee Abell — John's second marriage and his wife's death — His third marriage — Sir Ralph's last illness — The sunset and the afterglow . . 450

INDEX OF NAMES IN VOL. IV 483

SUBJECT INDEX TO THE FOUR VOLUMES 501

LIST OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS

TO VOLUME IV.

SIR RALPH VERNEY, BARONET . Frontispiece

From a painting by Sir Peter Lely at Claydoii House.

QUEEN CATHERINE OF BRAGANZA, WIFE OF CHARLES II. to face p. 13 From a painting at Claydon House.

ELIZABETH VERNEY, WIFE OF THE REV. CHARLES ADAMS „ „ 86 From a painting at Claydon House.

GARY VERNEY, LADY GARDINER „ ,,96

From a drawing in chalks in the possession of Mrs. Jackson, North Lodge, Windsor ; reproduced by her kind permission.

SIR JOHN VERNEY, 2ND BARONET, AFTERWARDS IST VISCOUNT FERMANAGH . . . . ,, „ 160

From a painting at Claydon House.

JAMES BUTLER, 12TH EARL, AFTERWARDS IST DUKE

OF ORMOND ,, „ 228

From a painting by Egmont at Claydoii House.

i

ANNE LEE, WIFE OF THOMAS, AFTERWARDS IST MARQUIS

OF WHARTON „ „ 243

From a painting by Sir Peter Lely at Claydon House.

ELIZABETH PALMER, IST WIFE OF JOHN VERNEY . „ „ 250 From a painting by Sir Peter Lely at Claydon House.

ELEANOR LEE, WIFE OF JAMES BERTIE, IST EARL OF

ABINGDON „ „ 270

From a painting by Sir Peter Lely at Claydon House.

MARY LAWLEY, 2ND WIFE OF JOHN VERNEY . . ., „ 468 From a painting at Claydon House.

ELIZABETH BAKER, 3RD WIFE OF SIR JOHN VERNEY „ „ 475 From a painting at Claydon House.

xiv VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

WOODCUTS.

BLACKNALL MONUMENT AT ABINGDON .... Tiile-page With the effigies of Dame Mary Verney's father, mother, and sister, showing the loaves still distributed to the poor under John Blacknall's will.

PORCH OF THE WHITE HOUSE, EAST CLAYDON . . . page 38

THE WHITE HOUSE (EAST CLAYDON) FROM THE WEST . . „ 165

SHIELD, VERNEY AND ABELL ARMS, 1675 . . . „ 191

MONUMENT TO MRS. JOHN VERNEY „ 419

THE WHITE HOUSE (EAST CLAYDON) FROM THE SOUTH . „ 437

MONUMENT TO COL. H. VERNEY AND LADY OSBORNE . „ 455

MEMOIRS OF THE VERNEY FAMILY

FROM

THE RESTORATION TO THE REVOLUTION

CHAPTEE I.

THE WOOING OF MAEY ABELL. 1660-1662.

A blithe and bonny country lass,

Heigh-ho, the bonny lass : Sat sighing on the tender grass

And weeping said, * Will none come woo me ? '

WHILE England was enduring ' the miseries of a Civil War, and the many and fruitless attempts towards Settlements, upon imaginary Forms of Government,' a Eoyalist merchant, William Abell, left the City of London, bought the manor of East Claydon, with the White House, and tried to bury himself in the safe obscurity of the life of a country squire. He bore a name which was unpleasantly notorious. William Abell the elder, Master of the Vintners' Company, had been the King's tool in his illegal attempts to tax the City Companies, and to escape the jibes and

VOL. IV. B

2 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

caricatures showered upon him in London, during the Protectorate, he fled to Holland.

Before the troubles, his son had married ' Anne, daughter of John Wakering and Mary Palmer his wife,' of an old family of small landowners, at Kelverton, in Essex. ' Their eldest child, Mary Abell, was born there, * on the 5th of April 1641, between 6 and 7 at night,' and was baptized on the 17th ; the next year a son, Thomas, was born on the 18th of May, baptized in Kelvedon Church on the 29th, and buried there on the 30th of August. Anne Abell survived her boy but a few months, 6 she dyed 22nd January 1643, and was buried in St. Peter's Church in St. Albans.' The widower settled down on his newly acquired property, and here his little daughter grew up, the pride of the village, and the darling of her quiet home, but far removed from whatever advantages town breeding and good society could bestow.

East Claydon would, however, have repudiated with scorn any idea of remoteness or rusticity. Was it not known to all the world that the high-road from London to Buckingham passed through it, and that the London coach stopped to bait at Squire Abell's substantial Village Inn, where a fine wain- scoted parlour received the passengers who might wish to taste the excellent home-brewed ale? Plaistow, too, the London carrier, had his abode here ; and the Church books showed an admixture of outside influences, unknown to the retired parish of Middle

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 3

Claydon. In 1641, there was quite a sensational entry of the death and burial of Mercy Hawkins of Greetworth in the County of Northampton, ' a passenger from London.' l

The White House was then c a handsome dwelling, with numerous gables, heavy stacks of chimneys, mullioned windows and piers surmounted with stone balls.' It has now shrunk to smaller proportions, but the beautiful Jacobean porch still remains, with a recess beside it, containing a shelf meant perhaps for a hive. The small mullioned bow-window of Mary's parlour, built up in the intervening century, has recently been brought to light. The ornamental brick work of the garden wall, and the clipped box hedges retain a respectable flavour of antiquity.

William Abell the widower kept up his friend- ship with his wife's family, who were usefully con- nected with the Protector's Government ; her brother, Dionysius Wakering, married Anne Everard, daughter of an Essex Baronet, and their only surviving child, Mary, married Oliver St. John's son. Aunt Wakering, who appears as a widow during Mary's girlhood,

1 At a time when some half-dozen Christian names sufficed for all the boys and girls, gentle and simple, of the neighbourhood, the variety in East Claydon is quite remarkable. With the Puritan taste for Bible names — Noah, Ezra, Jonas, Josias, Judith, Deborah, Lydia, Susannah and the like, the older names have kept their ground, and Christopher, Michael, Benedict, Agnes, Audrey, Christian (as a girl's name), Constance, Dorothy, Elinor, Ursula, Priscilla, and Petronilla are amongst the names of the village children. The Welsh element represented by Ellis, Hugh, Pierce and Winifred, may, perhaps, be traced to the Vicar's household, whose signature, Maurice Gryffyth, leaves no doubt as to his own nationality.

B 2

4 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

seems to have married late in life Cromwell's General, Desborough.

While Mary was still a child, William Abell returned to Essex for a wife, Mary, whose family is not known to us ; she was related to the Wakerings through the Wisemans, a connection difficult to trace, as there were three Essex Baronets of the name of Wiseman in the time of the Stuarts ; the Verneys were connected with them through Sir Ealph's wife.1

The second Mrs. Abell proved an excellent step- mother, and Mary was tenderly attached to her. Squire Abell's property adjoined Sir Ealph Yerney's in two parishes, and their dwelling-houses were scarce two miles apart, but with such widely different opinions and antecedents there was some instinctive dislike and rivalry between them. The boundary hedges and ditches afforded the usual subjects of dispute between country neighbours ; and when Mr. Abell's cattle and sheep broke through some neglected gap and were promptly put in the pound, Sir Ealph took it that Mr. Abell ' intended to quarrel,

1 To complicate matters still farther, Mary, the second Mrs. Abell, must have married a Wiseman after her first husband's death, for when standing sponsor to her step-daughter's child in February 1666, she is described as ' the Lady Wiseman, wife of Sir Richard Wiseman and relict of William Abell ; ' in September 1667, she writes to her step-daughter from Woodharn- Walter, signing herself * Mary Fytche,' and the latter replies telling her of the death of Win. Meade, the Parish Clerk, and others of her acquaintance in East Claydon ; Mrs. Fytche is said (November 27, 1667) to be staying at the house of her brother [in law ?] Sir Wm. Wiseman, and to be adopting one of her late husband's sons ; she seems therefore to have lost two husbands and married a third within seven years.

THE WOOING OF MAKY ABELL &

and that he must order his affairs accordingly.' Edmund Verney was probably the only young man in the Claydons who knew nothing of the gentle maiden who was his nearest neighbour. When the Restoration was imminent, and it became profitable to furbish up the rusty memory of a Eoyalist ancestor, William Abell emerged from his retirement, with an enthusiasm of obsequious loyalty, which the old Bucks squires looked upon as officious and absurd. 6 Mr. Abell's Collection for the poore King, and the various aspects and humours seen upon his Majesty's proclayminge ' at East Claydon were among the jokes of the county. 'Mr. Abell read the King's May 21,

IfifiO

letter and declaration to his neighbours after church,' writes Mr. Butterfield, c and haveing shewed them what a gratious King they had, he moves them to see what they would do for him ; and to begin lays downe 9£. 165. 2d. which was his owne proportion of the mounthly taxe, and soe desires the like of them all rich and poore. . . . 25Z. was gathered, and to Aylesbury he and some other of his Neighbours carryed it, where they would have payed it to the Treasurer, but he would none of it, as haveing no order to receive it; then at the Petty Sessions he sends to the Justices to acquaint them of the money ; they made themselves merry at it, but would not take the money, So I heare he has now come up to London it may be to meet his Majesty and acquaint him with his doeings, for he told his neighbours the King should know of their forwardness. Mr.

6 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

Townshend [Rector of Eadclive] told me I should see this would be expected from us all. I laughed at him and made him angry. Sure that man is also strangely transported with this new change, he talks, and preaches and does wondrously.'

No Stuart King ever frowned upon a worshipper who offered up the incense of hard cash ; and we find William Abell in October, '60, as a Captain of Foot, among the gentlemen of the County of Bucks, named to command the Trained Bands, and advanced in due time to further honours.

Sir Ealph and his son spent that gay summer of 1660 in town, Mun is studying 'the elements of Civil Law, but has reached,' he confesses, 6 no great height of knowledge therein.' ' The Merry Monarch ' was receiving a welcome frantic in its enthusiasm. Everybody who aspired to be anybody expected office at Court, though there were not nearly places enough to go round. Colonel Henry Verney applied for the post of a gentleman-in-waiting, backed up by ' my Lady Peto, Lady Onion, and Sir Harry Newton/ Edmund desired ' a troop ' and a ' red ribbon ' of the Bath. ' The King,' he writes, ' intends to be crowned the first Thursday after Candlemasse Day, unlesse the Duke of Glocester's death deferre it ... but I thinke Princes doe not usually mourn so long.' ' Sir Richard Temple, and a yong ladd of a very greate estate and of my name, one Greville Verney,' 1 are to be among the new knights ; c the way had been

1 An ancestor of Lord Willoughby de Broke, of Compton Verney.

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 7

only to acquaint my Lord Manchester that such a gentleman had a desire to be knight of the Bath, and to give in his name, which he is obliged to present to the King, who denies no man who will be at the charges.' l Even Heron, Edmund's servant, ' a good sightly fellow, who writes well and is in all respects fit to serve any gentleman,' is inclined to pick a quarrel with his master, that he may be free to seek 4 a place at court,' or at worst as ' a comedian ' in one of the reopened theatres. ' To quit your service to turn Player,' writes Sir Ealph to Mun, ' will be for neither of your credits. . . . Players and Fiddlers are treated with ignominy by our lawes, and truly I should be sorry to see him in such debased company.'

Dr. Denton alone gets more than he wants. ' A Jan. 17,

i fifii feather in my capp,' he writes, ' a warrant to be

sworne in ordinary with a Eeserve of my Priority and Seniority, but what to do with it now I have it, I doe not know. I shall make noe hast to be sworne .... amonge other Inconveniencies I doubt swearinge may ingage me to ride at the Coronation, and I have noe great man to squander away 100Z. . . . Dr. Bate and Dr. Manton have refused theire Deaneries.'

Mun's friend Dr. Thomas Hvde succeeds Dr. March,

" •« ^*^*-i

Zouch at the Admiralty. More business came upon Sir Ealph than ever ; his friends who had served ' the

1 The expenses are not given in detail, but the following year (June 5, 1662) the fees for Sir William Ayscough's knighthood amounted to 60Z. 10s. ; a baronetcy was said to cost 900Z.

8 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

late Usurpers of Government,' were much persecuted by * malitious persons ; ' there were pardons to be procured, suits pending before the House of Lords ' and Lords are teadious persons to waite on ; ' threadbare Koyalists like ' Mr. Kenelm Digby to be certified as being Loyal and Indigent,' and, as Deputy Lieutenant, Sir Ealph was constantly receiving proclamations about the raising of the Militia, the prosecution of ' Anabaptists, Quakers, Fifth Monarchy Men, and other Fanaticks/ and the dispersing of their meetings.

Jan. is, There is a long correspondence with Cousin

Thomas Stafford about the meeting of the Trained Bands at Winslow, where his son, Captain Edmund Stafford, is to be in command. He has ' my Ld. LeifV's Commission with some instructions,' but there are only 14 pikes and he needs that ' the Collours, Leading Staffe, Partizans, Halberts, Musketts & Drums should be ready, that he may be in an equipage to march, trayne & exercise his company, according to the moderne discipline of warr.' The

Jan. 30, County is also raising a ' Volunteer Troop of Horse ' to meet at Aylesbury. Sir Wm. Smith ' exceedingly approves the designe ' and will send a horse or two ; he is unable to appear in person, being summoned 4 by my Lord Treasurer to wait upon him, about some affairs of His Majesty's.'

Sir Ealph was no courtier, but he began to consider whether some of the patents granted to Sir Edmund could be revived, and whether his office of

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 9

Knight Marshal might not be fittingly bestowed on his son ; rough drafts of petitions were drawn up in which a good deal was said about his father's heroic death, and his own exile and his decimation, which would have touched the Standard Bearer's sense of humour.

Charles II., more anxious, as the Eoyalists March 16,

i fifii complained, to conciliate an opponent than to

reward a friend, made Sir Ealph Verney a Baronet. Mun speaks of ' this Age of Universall concessions,' and affirms that the Devolution hath changed the Feb. 11, face of the whole Nation which was heavy and discontented into cheerfulnesse & joy.' 'Mercye soe generally rules the land, that Tray tors themselves are preferred to their desires.'

' The happy change that wee have lately had in England, makes us now begin to plant again,' writes Sir Ealph to Monsieur Pappin at Blois, ' in hopes that we, or our children, may reape the frute in peace, under our good & gracious King, whose vertues are more honour to him, then his Crownes, & whose zeal & constancy in religion, are like to make him the Head & Protector of all the Eeformed churches in Europe ; ' and on the strength of these conclusions Sir Ealph begs his friend to send him a large consignment of vines of the early ripe Auvergnac grape.

The King rode from the Tower to Whitehall the day before his Coronation ; a devout Eoyalist lady *

1 Diary of Anne Murray, Lady Halkett : Camden Soc., 1875, p. 114,

10 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

who had known him from boyhood watched his progress with breathless interest, imputing to him the pious thoughts that filled her own mind. ' Such was the multitude of beholders,' she writes, c that crowded aboutt the horse on which his Majestie did ride, that his servants were not able to keepe aboutt him, very many meane ordinary persons layd their hands upon the horse & the rich trapings, which put me in terror of some attempt on his Majestie's person. . . . Butt while I was thus conflecting with my feares the King rode on with a serene undisturbed composure, free either from feare or vanity, and seemed to be pleased with the liberty the rude multitude tooke to approach him.' Sir April 23, Ealph and Mun witnessed the Coronation in

1 /» /> i

Westminster Abbey. Dr. Morley, whom we last met poking about the old bookstalls at the Hague,, bemoaning the triumphs of anarchy and schism, was now preaching the Coronation sermon in full canonicals as Bishop of Worcester ; poor starved Dr. Cosins had become Prince Bishop of Durham ; and Sir Frederick Cornwallis, who shared Sir Ealph's imprisonment at Whitehall, was conspicuous as Treasurer of the Household. While old friends met again in so splendid a scene, there seemed, in the excitement of the moment, no room for any feelings but those of mutual congratulation. 'Did I not know you very well,' writes Sir Ealph to Doll, ' I should think you little less than a Phanaticke, for being absent at this great solemnitie.' ' No pen nor

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 11

ink can express the gallantry of the nobility/ writes another eye-witness, ' who are today in their Parliament robes, I would have enlarged but we are so busie with looking att bonfiers and fireworkes.' 1

Luce Sheppard is now installed at Burleigh, where 6 the littell ladie thrives well under her tuition/ my Lord of Exeter has a dispensation from his Majesty, which relieves him of attendance at the Coronation much to Luce's disappointment. Mun's account of it to his old friend is more affectionate than instruc- tive. ' Mrs. Shepard/ he begins, ' your verball expressions were most welcome to me, in truth it is impossible any thing from you can be otherwise. Had your affairs allowed me the happiness of Personall attendance on you at the coronation, the joy of the day had been mightilye improved. The solemnitye and lustre thereof you have seene from a pen more certeyne and polite than myne can bee ; yet I must say againe, I missed you there.'

' Sweet Cossen/ writes Doll Leeke, ' I beleve you came to towne to se all the bravery, and truly by the relation of it, it was worth your time. . . I se you have don better for your sonn, then he was abell to do for him self, he is no knight of the Bath, which he did not question to get, but you have given him somthing which will advantag his family for ever. . . . You se I am not to be temted with fine sights to come to Loundon ; the truth is I spent all my mouney when I was ther, and must take a longer

1 Fleming MSS., 442, Hist. MSS. Comm.

12 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

time to recruit. All that bravery wold have made me malincoly, I am much finer in my ould clothes in the Country, then I should have been ther. Your coronation sute will serve us, ther fore pray come to Croshall.'

April 29, Sir Ealph claims 20Z. from his son ' for killing my

Black bald Nagg ; with much difficulty hee came home, but in such a case as ... never poore beast was worse. There fell a humour into his hinder legg, which swelled it as bigg as your Wast, and in a short time it gangren'd, and became cold and Botten, soe he is now devided amongst my Carpes.' Edmund denies that he had over-ridden the nag, ' mais la pauvre beste N'avoit gueres envie de marcher, et certes je ne le pouvois blamer, car sans doute il cognoissoit par clarte de Nature, que chasque pas qu'il alloit (quoyque fort petit) le hastoit aux Ombres eternels.'

Meanwhile the heiress-hunting for Mun continues. After Mary Eure's final rejection, Mun himself had relapsed into his old indifference. Sir Ealph and Aunt Isham were still in pursuit of ' Mr. Bacchus ' daughter and heiress who reappears as ' the widow of a Mr. Bishop.' Anne Hobart had her own widow to recommend, Sir Edward Alstone's daughter, who had just thrown Lord Paget over, and was in treaty against her father's wishes with ' the son of Lord Coleraine.' Sir Edward Alstone preferred the Yerney alliance, and was conferring with Dr. Denton, and so the dreary comedy dragged on.

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THE WO'. ABELL 13

r Lisbon, May 11, Taller 1661

re

:ph replies. ire 1

to thinke that Porttigail is your \v. Widdow? Beeleeve me Mun, the Widdow ee

your Quene, and tis well if you can get her with all the freindes and industry you have/

Edmund hears that the Portuguese have been May 21.. defeated by the Spaniards. ' Si cela est, je crois que 1 notre pays ne rnanquera pas tant qu'il a fait de Eois ni de Eeynes, car la Eeyne de Boheme est deja arrivee comme si c'etait pour montrer le chemir reste.'

Doll Leeke contributes her mite of evid= to

the good impression Catherine of Bragai le on

her arrival. 'My sister says the is very u.

hansom, and I hear very strict*

tr mode^

>n some ' ' •

•

1 le,

. Her ssed on the is dressed in ' the i a way to recall

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 13

My Lord Sandwich's fleet was starting for Lisbon, May 11,

i fifii and Edmund writes : ' J'ai grandissime envie d'aller

en Portugal! pour faire part du train de nostre Eeyne qui sera.' cAs for your Portugal voyage/ Sir Balph replies, ' (whither it seemes you have a greate desire to Eamble,) I looke uppon it as a Fantasticall Dreame. Can you bee soe sencelesse as to thinke that Portugall is your way to Wooe the Widdow ? Beeleeve me Mun, the Widdow must bee your Quene, and tis well if you can get her with all the freindes and industry you have.'

Edmund hears that the Portuguese have been May 21, defeated by the Spaniards. ' Si cela est, je crois que notre pays ne manquera pas tant qu'il a fait de Eois ni de Eeynes, car la Eeyne de Boheme est deja arrivee comme si c'etait pour montrer le chemin au reste.'

Doll Leeke contributes her mite of evidence as to the good impression Catherine of Braganza made on her arrival. 'My sister says the queen is very May 21, hansom, and I hear very stricte in hir carage, and all that is with hir modest and reserved. I hope it will work upon some of our wild ladys to make them more grave.' The picture at Clay don does not bear out Anne Hobart's charitable opinion of the Queen's good looks. Her expression is sensible and gentle, but the features are heavy and commonplace. Her hair, which in her earlier portraits is massed on the top of her head not unbecomingly, is dressed in ' the French mode,' and sticks out in a way to recall

14 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

her bridegroom's uncourteous speech. ' You have brought me a bat.'

Edmund's own love-making did not prosper ; his Widow is 'in a cooling condition,' and his c late letters have seemed much unconcerned, and rather doubtfull then hopefull of it.' ' God's Will bee donne,' writes Sir Ealph, with a piety which seems quaintly out of place.

The Widow finally threw him over in favour of * a lord ; ' and the rejected suitor joined his father at Claydon. The country was in its full summer beauty ; Sir Ealph, delighted to be at home again, and weary of the wiles of fashionable dames, might well turn his thoughts towards the little Perdita amongst the sheep-folds of East Claydon. He made some inquiries as to whether she would be Mr. Abell's sole heir, ' her father's brother,' Mun writes, ' is a very cunning littigious fellow, who meaneth to try for it ; yet Sir Bobert Wiseman, a civilian of the Commons, and uncle to the mother-in-law, [step-mother] of the young Lady, was imployed towards the cutting off of the intayle, which was done accordingly by Sir Orlando Bridgeman.'

Squire Abell was High Sheriff that year, but the flutter of pride and excitement which had been felt in the household at East Claydon, when he rode off with much pomp and circumstance to Buckingham, was quickly changed to sorrow ; he died suddenly while performing his duty at the Assizes. The sympathy this sad event evoked in the County brought

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 15

his family into notice, and the rustic maiden became known outside the village limits as the owner of the picturesque old Manor-house and of the comfortable estate that went with it.

Mr. Maurice Gryffyth had been Vicar of East Claydon for nearly forty years, and was then a very old man ; but Sir Ealph asked Mr. Butterfield to pay a visit of condolence on his account, to the widow and her step-child, and to put in a word as occasion served about a possible marriage-treaty. It was but five days after the High Sheriff's death that the Aug. 15, Eector reported to Sir Ealph : < I found the gentle- woman under such a cloud of sorrow and reservedness, that I could not without some difficulty fasten any discourse upon her, being never alone yet alwaies as it were alone and silent. When I tooke my leave I gave her a briefe touch of what I desired to have spoken more at large, if my modesty and her re- servedness could have contrived it ; yet what I sayd I heard from one of her confidents, (for from herselfe I received so low and still an answer that I could not tell what to judge of it) she tooke very kindly. I have been twice there since. . . she professes much respect to you, and sayth after she hath advised with her friends and the young Woman's she will make a more satisfactory returne, but would not by any meanes the young woman should be spoken to till she had first broken it to her. She wants not suters and those of good quality, yet I thinke you shall have the first admittance to treat. The young woman

16 VEENEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

wants not wit, though she may breeding, and for ought I can learne is resolved to marry where she thinks she may live happy, and if there be a likeing between the young folke it may be a Match. . . . Eichard Abell hath been here and is gone again ; he would feigne have gotten the young woman to live with him and rely on him, but she absolutely refuses him. They are very confident their estate is sure in law, and he would cast about between the mother and daughter, but they are as shye of him as of a beare. There is with them now Doctor Sir Eobert Wiseman, a grave discreet gent ; and one Mr. Gale is sent for ; ' who had married William Abell's sister. Edmund was courting Mary in September, when Sir Ealph, with little consideration for the new Mary's hopes, invited the old Mary to Claydon ; but Mrs. Sherard declined to complicate the situation. ' I here your son is towardes a good fortewen,' she writes, CI wish him all happiness, and by that account I have of her both for her fortewn and person, shee is very considorabull, soe I hope ther will be noe Stope of it.'

Oct. 7, Edmund writes to Dr. Hyde, ' I persist still in my

sute to Mrs. Mary Abel, who tells me she will be much ruled by her uncle in law Gale, a proctor in Drs. Commons, to whom I presume you are no stranger ; therefore I beseech you, if it be in your power, so to season this Gale that he may not blow any unpros- perous wind towards me touching this affaire, yet I beleive I shall cast so sure an anchor that my affaire

THE WOOING OF MAKY ABELL 17

will not wrecke should he endeavour it. You may assure him that my estate in reversion is 3,000/. a yeare, (my Father's debt only excepted, which you need not take notice off) so that my fortune is answerable to hers. Then we are the most con- venient matches in England one to the other, because the best part of our estates joyne.'

Sir Ealph asked Mr. Butterfield to talk over NOV. 15,

-I £*£1

matters again with Mrs. Abell ; he was not desirous that Mary should make too generous a settlement on her step-mother, while he felt all the delicacy of interfering. The Eector writes, ' Sir, I have beene NOV. 16, all this day from 11 of the clocke to foure this after- noone, at East Claydon ; where I found them won- drous kinde and free both in their discourse and entertainment. . . . They do so openly and with so much affection own the Match with Mr. Verney, that except it were really done, I do not see how they could doe more. Stephen Choke sayes Mr. Verney will have as good a dispositiond gentlewoman as can be. Mrs. Goffe sayes they want Mr. Yerney ex- tremely, especially one of them. Mrs. Wiseman sayes she is resolved to marry him. I told them you had been like to have been robbed going up. The young woman coloured at it and seemed to be much concerned for it, and expressed a great deal of satisfaction for your escape. I told it on purpose, how true I know not, but had the relation from Will Lea. She weares the ring Mr. Verney gave her openly, and both speakes of him with much pleasing- VOL. iv. c

18 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

nes5 and seemes to delight to heare of him. Truly, Sir, my thought there appeared in all they did and sayd, such innocent and hearty intentions as to the busines desired, that I could not in discretion presse any thing more than what easily dropt from them.' The next day the good Eector called again. ' I received yours last Sunday dinner,' he writes, ' and after evening service I carryed the inclosed from Mr. Gale to his Niece. She went up into her chamber to read it, and after a while came downe. I perceived by them they expected a letter from Mr. Verney. When she was sate I asked her if there was any rub in the busines. She sayd no, but that her uncle had sent for a perticular, which she wondered att, and the mother sayd she had told you the truth of the estate, and she thought you knew it as well as they themselves. I told them . . . that Mr. Gale . . . overvalued her estate and undervalued his. Mrs. Abell replyed she had heard him under- value your estate, but she thought he had known theires better. Then the young woman sayd . . . She was confident her rents would hold at Claydon, so upon that we had some discourse in reference to yours, which they heard were high. But I satisfy ed them that all your old inclosure was old rents ; and for the new it was so upon improvement, that if it were hard rented now, in seven yeares it would be good.' '.

Mr. Butterfield said much about 4 Mr. Verney's frugality ' and that it would be ' no inconvenience to

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 19

have such a father in law. . . . Night came on, and we parted faire.'

The negotiations were complicated and tedious ; not only were Mary's relations anxious to make the best bargain they could for the orphan heiress, but Edmund, behind Sir Ealph's back, was urging Mr. Gale to stand out in Mary's name for a larger present maintenance than his father was disposed to allow him. He begs Mr. Gale to answer his letters privately 'within a cover directed to my Mistress.' Dr. Thomas Hyde is now mentioned as ' my deare deceased friende.'

' I pray God you may deserve all,' writes the Eector to Mun. ' I have promised very faire for you. Should you not make my words good, I should not hereafter see her face without shame and sorrow. . . . I am sure I left her in a very good mode.

' I am, Sir, your officious friend and servant,

' ED. BUTTERFIELD.'

While Mun's courtship stumbles at the settlements, there is another maiden who feels herself worse used than Mary Abell, a backward suitor being preferable in her opinion to none at all.

Betty Verney who, ' wherever she hath been, hath never yet been pleased,' was in 1660 ' destitute of a habitation.' John Stewkeley has ' said so much,' that Gary with ' her train of babs ' can no longer offer her a home. Betty is deeply in debt, ' beggarly in clothes,' c physick keeps her very bare,' and she is

c v

20 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

exposed to the c pity that is contempt, and all the miseries that attend poverty and quality in conjunc- tion.' Sir Ealph sends her eventually to a Mrs. Henderson at Goring, who with her husband keeps — like Mrs. Barbauld — a school for young gentlemen ; 6 noe ill shelter,' Sir Ealph considers, ' till another can 166217' be found.' Betty allows that ' the Dr. and his Wife receved her veri kiendley,' ' but I am confident,' she writes, ' if you ware heare, you would not thinck this plas as fit for me as I thinck you doo, how ever I shal indever to stay tel it plesies God and you to reles me out of it.' Her real grievance was that her brother had failed in his duty to provide her with a husband. Her godmother Mrs. Isham, in her good-natured way, feels sure that ' a Mr. Blagrave,' whose family com- mands the Parliamentary seat at Beading, would be quite ready to marry her, but as he had wedded a Miss Brown ' a month since,' unknown to his elder brother, it was only dear Aunt Isham's sanguine temper that found an opening here, for as Betty puts it to Sir Ealph — ' I thinck my marriing veri unlickley in any plas, and imposibil in this . . . but I desier to be holey ruled by you.'

She had set her heart on living with her brother in London, but he cannot take in a maid, and she cannot ' Dresse her Head ' herself. Sir Ealph, regard- less of the fact that his own wigs required very skilled attendance, makes light of difficulties with which he has never had to grapple. ' I am sori you thinck that to be so esei, which I find so hard/

THE WOOING OF MAKY ABELL 21

writes the aggrieved damsel. 'At London, as you order matters,' he replies, ' there's noe hopes of pay- ing your debts. . . London is a Theife will trick your purse as well as mine.' To this Betty ' ack- knoliges ' that she has not a word to say. Three months later her hair still remains intractable, it will neither rise in billowy heights, nor fall in showers of ringlets as the mode requires. ' As for the dresiong April 19, my head my self e, I must deale injenoiosley with you ; I can not yet doo it ; I am confident goeing to plow would not mack me mor sick than the reaching up of my armes does.'

Mrs. Henderson resolves at the end of May ' to tack no more borders,' ' the Dr. sais he will live with onley his privat famley,' so they request Betty to dispose of herself by Midsummer. ' The dressing of your head puts off severall persons from entertaining you,' says Sir Ealph. c Write me word the utmost you can give and what attendance you doe expect for soe much money.' Betty can afford but ' 30/. A yere for all things, besides fireing and woshing,' she 4 must goe very menely ' and doubts she ' will not hould out at that nether ; ' but she has heard ' from A genteil woman of my acquientans to let me know if I pleased I mit live at hur ffathers, and she and I should be chamber feloes, herr name is Frances Boltton, and she lives in Broad Street at the eind towards Thrednedle Street.' Lady Hobart recom- mends the Charter House, where Lady Lovet and many others are ; c she may be drest and have a

22 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

roome to herselfe for 30/. a yere/ The arrangement with the ' genteel woman ' is however carried out.

The poor little heiress at East Claydon is still writing sadly to her uncle in Sermon Lane about the ' tedious and odious delayes ' in the marriage settle- ment, when Mr. Butterfield gives Edmund a pretty Feb. 24, account of drawing Valentines, in the old Manor House. 'I found Mrs. Mary in her morning dresse, a white and blacke petty Coate and wast coate, and all cleane and fine linnen, so lovely proper and briske, I protest I knew her not at first sight, though I had been there a good part of the day but 3 dayes before. . . . They made themselves merry at Valen- tine's day in drawing Valentines, and very unwilling she was to be brought to draw (6 or 7 papires being put together rolled up) for feare she should not draw you. But being pers waded to it at last she ventured, and they say very fairely happened on you to her great satisfaction ... I cannot but adde, had I gained her, as you have done, I would marry her, if she would have mee, though I beg'd ; and thinke to see more happy dayes in such a choyce, than in another with thousands per an.' Edmund wrote warmly enough though not often. ' My dearest Mistrisse, If I had no other errant yet I ought to go a Pilgrim on foote to East Claydon, only to kisse that deare and pleasant hand, which so lovingly writ her self, most affectionatly faythfull till death unto me her slave, who must shortly make a journey of devotion to my saint there, even to my

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 23

most passionately beloved Mistrisse Mar}^ Abell &c. &c. . . . He writes again on May 1, ' Yesterday I returned from Gravesend, where I parted with my poore brother, who is gone for Aleppo, and desired me to present his humble service unto you, wishing both you and me all happinesse in the enjoyment of each other whereat I say Amen. . . . Madam I hope all may be agreed twixt Mr. Gaell and my father before my going downe to wayte upon you, and conduct you hither, which I am resolved shall bee next weeke at farthest.' This visit to London gave Mary something definite to talk about when her Mother and Aunt complained of Mun's neglect. She could not but feel that it was not thus that other maidens were sought and won. Squire Buncombe's zealous wooing of ' Joseph Busbye's daughter had greatly pleased ' the elder ladies. He could not bear to be parted from his mistress for an hour ; her family must be at his house, or he at theirs ; he had been all the last week at Addington ; c always drunk,' alas, ' but if he could have had a priest, they say, he would needs have been marryed at midnight, in spight of all his friends, and away he is gone home with her again.' It was certainly disappoint- ing to hear ten days later, that ' Squire Duncombe was quite off of his hot matching, and would venture her being sicke for love of him ; ' but need true love be as cool and reasonable as Edmund's was ?

Mr. Butterfield was confounded. It was the second time he had been rash enough to meddle with

24 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

the young man's love affairs. All his previous experience had been of Edmund's hot-headed eager- ness ; no diligence and zeal on his own part could ever overtake his impatience. Night and day Mun was writing love-letters, which Mary Eure cared neither to read nor to answer. Mary Abell blushed with expectation, and grew pale with disappointment when the Sector's budget from Co vent Garden con- tained no word for her. Then every member of the family had been tormented, and every conceivable influence set to work, to induce Mary Eure to grant Edmund an interview ; now when the heart -of Mary Abell had yielded almost before the siege was laid, he scarce took the trouble of coming to claim the

April 28, gracious welcome that awaited him. ' She weares his picture openly and confidently,' writes the anxious Eector. c Mr. Verney does very ill in my minde to breake his word thus with the ladyes here at not coming down at the time prefixed, whose impatience in being thus kept from towne ... is very mani- fest.' When the truant came at last, he scolded, argued and explained, but failed to satisfy them. Mary herself was provoked out of her usual patient silence, and Edmund writes in considerable irrita-

Mayii, tion: 'Middle Claydon, 1662. Mon tres cher pere,

1662 / x

Vendredy au soir assey tard le passay par East Claydon la ou j'entray et salue les damoiselles . . . le lendemain j'ally disner avec elles et donnay le present a ma maittresse, laquelle estoit fort irritee de ce que ie 1'avois fait tant demeurer pour rien, car

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 25

disoit elle ce n'est pas que ie me soucie d'aller a Londres y ayant gueres d'affaires, mais c'est acause que ie ne puis pas m'imaginer que vous avez tant d'amour puor moy que vous pretendey, puisque vous pouviez estre si long temps sans me venir voir, et cela estant, j'advoue une folliebien grande d'avoir entretennu une telle personne, car disoit elle, quelle besogne aviez vous a Londres puisque Monr vostre pere n'a rien conclu avec mon Oncle, puis elle me demanda pourquoy vous ne vouliez pas accorder avec son Oncle, a tout cecy ie respondis Ie mieux que ie peus, et veritablement i'eut grand peine a 1'appaiser.'

It seemed doubtful whether the long-promised expedition would prove very enjoyable, but Edmund hired a coach and made what haste he could to 4 carry his women ' to town.

Mr. Butterfield writes to him : ' no saint but the Virgin Mary can make you happy, sure you take more state upon you then Majesty it selfe.' Small pox is rife, and he trembles for his little country damsel ' in that ugly London this hot season.' . . .

6 Make hast downe into the country,' he writes, ' that June 9,

•u V r 1662

is now very sweet . . . but be sure before you come

join the two Clay dons together or 'twill never be halfe so pleasant to you. My humble respects to your deare Lady, the maker or marrer of your wealth.'

On the 16th of June, Mr. Butterfield's anxiety reached its climax. ' It was first the private whispers

26 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

of some, but now 'tis Town and country talke,' he writes to Sir Kalph, ' that the match will not be ; whereat many that beare you no good will, I feare, make themselves very merry, and your friends that wish well to the family are much troubled. ... I wish with my heart it had never been thus carryed on. ... Tis admirable to mee, that wise men should stand so peremptorily upon such inconsiderable nicetyes (for so they will seeme to plainer judgments) to the ruine of your credits and fortunes. . . . Why will you destroy your family, and render all the cost and paines you have been at in beautifying Claydon fruitles ? . . . You may see my heart is full, but it runs over so strangely. I must have one fling at him too, and then I have done.'

Here follows the ' fling.' ' Mr. Yerney, I cannot forbeare writeing. I had much adoe to forbeare comeing to you. ... Sir if your father and you had studyed to make yourselves the talke of the Country, the game and sport of those that do not love you, and a grief to your friends, you could not have found out such another way. ... If you could be careles of your selfe, yet consider you have gained the affection of an honest gentlewoman, whom if you should wrong by an inconsiderate breach, you will never be able to answer it while you breath, and looke to it, never any prosper that are guilty of treachery in that kinde. . . . Sir, I write this out of the bitterness of my heart, and out of an honest desire to be instrumen- tall to your good, not out of any busy humour to be

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 27

medling in other men's matters. ... I am concerned in your welfare more than ordinary, and it vexes my very soul to heare how the base bumpkins triumph in the disappointment of this long expected Match, because forsooth now East Claydon shall not be inclosed, though that be the lest of those things that trouble mee for you in this affaire. Sir, excuse my zeale for you ; I hope 'tis needles ; put mee out of doubt by a comfortable word or two, or els I shall dy with melancholy. My respects to your good lady.' Happily Mr. Butterfield's fears had overshot the mark ; while the village gossips were still chuck- ling over the supposed scandal, the news reached Claydon that the marriage had actually taken place on the 1st of July, probably in Henry YII's chapel, Westminster. The presence of one relation was certainly dispensed with. Tom had been more than usually tragic ; he only desired c a sleepy potion ' to put an end to life and its miseries, but he has now a more genteel grievance. ' I was not of an alliance neere enough to be invited to the marriage feast, yet I hope I shall be thought worthy to wear a brideall favour, not such as was bestowed on coachmen or lacqueys, but such an one as was bestowed on him whose equall I am in every respect. Sir, I should not have been soe bold a beggar had it not been layd in my dish on Fry-day last ; . . . This by the way fFor my discours is of another matter and of farr greater concernement to mee then a wedding favour can be.' We can easily supply the rest !

28 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

The young couple spent three or four weeks in London, and seem to have been very happy together.

July s, Sir Ealph writes to his son from Chancery Lane, 6 My Lady Hobart will bee at home all this day, and Sir Nathaniell desires to heare your Trumpet either this evening between 6 and 7, or to-morrow . . . th$re- fore endeavour to get your Master hether.' Edmund

July 16, writes to Mr. Gale : ' Owning as well for my Deare Mall as for my selfe . . . the courtesies done to us by you before, as well as since our marriage. . . . And truly my selfe and second selfe would wayte upon you, your sonne and daughter . . . but that our neighbours in Buckinghamshire would think and say we went only to avoyde them, if wee did not goe directly from hence to Claydon, a purpose to enter- tayne all that come to see us.'

July 24, To Sir Ealph he laments the expenses he must

1662

incur ' dans cette ville devorante.' Besides spending 43 shillings for his wife's wadded cloak, he pays 2 pounds 3 shillings for her silk mantle ; ' one pound for my pocket money; Wife 10 shillings; gloves 8 shillings and sixpence ; and for coache hire these 2 dayes 10 shillings. For, a Carman sent for and dis- appointed 6d. : Paid at a play for 8 maides in the 18<^. places, 12s. : for their Extraordinaryes 6d.' ' Mr. Verney's frugality ' had never existed except in good Mr. Butterfield's brain, and this was not the moment to call it into existence ; indeed the cost of marrying an heiress is feelingly alluded to in the literature of the period. ' When the Bills of Wooing,

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 29

Wedding, and Honey- Year are defraid, the Baste I doubt proves more than the Boast.' 1

But all else went well, the widow had become 6 my Mother,' in Edmund's letters, and ' Sister Abell ' in Sir Ealph's ; great preparations were going on at Claydon to welcome the Bride and to introduce her handsomely to the whole Yerney connection. The Widower-host's establishment was in the greatest commotion, no expense was to be spared to do them honour. Luce Sheppard looked out the best markets in town for fish and foreign fruits. Sir Ealph's extravagance in this respect had often been the subject of expostulations from the doctor ; ' You are a noble gent, but a simple fellow, and doe not consider that 6 d. a peece for lemons and Nobbs Brocadge doe not agree, and will not hold out, eat your sawce with veniger and lett lemons alone.' Luce had, however, succeeded in getting c a dosin of Sept. 10, lemonds att an exelent cheap rate . . . they cost but 3 shillings the dosen beside portage unwasht, if there be any truth in man, and lickly to be Dearer. Orenges are the worst at 12 pence apeece.' ' The sturgeon promiseth faire ... in caes it want pickell, 'tis to be covered with beare viniger, the lowest price that the fishmonger alowed the kegg for was 15s. . . . the oysters att 2s.' The cellar was stocked with Ehenish Wine, Claret and Canary. The new housekeeper had to provide an impossible number of beds ; coaches and horses were needed at once in opposite directions.

1 Letter of Advice concerning Marriage, by A. B., 1676.

30 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

' Company I beleave you want not/ wrote Sister Pegg,

' how you will lodg all I cannot imaien.' Sir Ealph

Sept. 15, writes that Sister Pen must positively defer her

arrival, till c Sir Nathaniel Hobart returnes to London,

(which will bee very suddenly), for now my sister

Gardner takes upp the Parlour chamber, Sister

Elmes the Oreng, Coz. Leeke the Lying-in chamber,

and Sir Nath. Hobart and his Lady are to Have the

old Drawing Eoome ; and the truth is I expect both

Sir Thomas Bird and Sir Eoger Burgoyne and his

brother every day, and then they must lodg in the

Gallery chamber, and I beleeve my Cozen Mun

Hobart will bee heere on Satterday next, soe that I

am forced to set upp a Bed for my Aunt Isham

in the little drawing roome. ... I have neither

Eoome, nor bedding left for any body, noe not

for a servant, though I have already Borrowed,

and must get Sister Elmes and coz. Leeke to lodg

together, and made all other shifts that possibly I

can. Neither can I send my coach on Tuesday to

Alisbery, for that very day I am engaged to meete

the deputy Leiftenants of this quarter at a Muster at

Buckingham, and after that at Stoney Stratford . . .

wherfore I must needes intreate you to deferre your

jorney hether.' Penelope had her own reasons for

leaving home immediately. ' If weeping in my

Lodgins and in the Street by day and by night,

would break my heart, in earnest it ware happy

for me . . . Mr. Denton has bin so outragious with

me, that he has run after me with his Knif in his

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 31

hand, and vowed to Stob me ; God mak me thank- full I clapt a dore upon me, and my maid turn'd the Kaye, so there I remained in the roome till his great fury was over. . . . He did till me that he should never be att rest till he had washed his hands in my blod.' ' Good Brother,' she continues, ' if your Letter had com time enough to my hands befor that I was in the coch, it had put a stop to my Journey, for God knows my hart. I ent ended you no trouble, but did belive that I might croud in amoung the reast of the companey.' Her husband joined her later, but at Clay don he was always on his best behaviour. An elaborate practical j oke was devised against him by the wedding party. A letter reached him purporting to come from Gape, the Apothecary, of which a copy is labelled, lest posterity should misread it, ' A Sham Letter to John Denton that is Crackt.'

' Good Squire, I am given to understand by some freinds att Court, that your Mother is labouring with all the power and might shee can, to make your youngest brother William a Lord, and hath soe farre prevaild that shee hath gott a promise of it from his Majesty, which my Lady Studdall, your kinswoman, understandinge and being much con- cerned in the injury don to you thereby, hath prevailed soe farre by the interest she hath at Court as to put a stoppe to it, and if you will part with 500/. you shall have the honour you? selfe and not your brother. Now truely if you will

32 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

take my opinion, I would have you to doe it, for when your brother shalbee sensible of the disgrace that will here by bee put upon him, undoubtedly hee will hang himselfe, and when your Mother knowes that, then shee will presently bee mad, and soe you being Eldest sonne the Law will cast the Estate upon you, and then you may begge her for a Lunaticke, and have the keeping of her your selfe, and soe may bee revenged of all the injuryes shee hath don you. Indeede you are mighty ly beholding to my Lady Studdall, for shee hath not onely spoke to the King for you, but to both the Queenes, the Duke of Yorke and the Dutchesse, and there is not a Lord of the privie Councell but shee hath made them your freinds. The King is much taken with the Comendations that my Lady Studdall hath given of you, and hath comanded that you waite upon him as soone as you come to London. And it is generally belived that you wilbee one of the Lords of the privie Councell, and that will bring you in a Thousand pounds a yeare of it selfe ; besides if you can by your wisdome be but as great a favourite as my Lord Chancellor is, you are made for ever. And I hope when you are in power you will not forgett your freinds. You see what hast you neede make to London. I will use no other arguments but what I have don allready, and onely tell you that I am, Sir, now your worship's, but I hope within a few days it wilbe your honour's most humble servant William Gape. I have sent the

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 33

messinger on purpose and therefore I pray you pay him.' Of the 'jest's prosperity' we hear nothing. There is a joke against the good apothecary that he has been 6 choused by Sir Wm. Berkeley,' who has given him the slip and embarked for Virginia, appa- rently in Gape's debt.

Another merry letter was concocted by Aunt Isham and signed by the guests to induce their host to join the ladies at a picnic. ' Sir, you beinge one of his Magistes Debity Leve tennants, you may be pleased to take no ties that too morroe aboute 10 a cloke there is a meetinge att Jhon Eose's House neere Eunts Woods. The desine is too devower all as comes before them, as Egges, Baken and ale. For the sagane [sacking ?] of your woode itt is thought fite as you a Peare in your Passone [person] for who knowes whate these Extravant Pople may doe in thare Ale, whene thay be hie-flone : so you are too sett all other consarnements a side too doe your utmost endevore to keepe in good order the Passons which intend too asemble them togeather.'

Betty Yerney was not included in the wedding party, and got up ' a stolen matching ' of her own, on purpose, so the sisters assured him, to revenge herself upon Sir Ealph. In October she had pro- nounced her health to be such that she was not long for this world — the next news is from Mun. ' II est NOV. i,

1 fifi2

bruitte que ma Tante Isabeau a dessein de se perdre sur un pauvre cure : car je vis ces mots deshono-

VOL. IV. D

34 VEENEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

rabies escrits par Madame Tipping h ma Tante Isham/ There is a chorus of indignation in the family and NOV. 20, ^eg Elmes writes in great wrath to Sir Ealph, ' I assure you, you are not a loane in the sensur of my sister Betty's casting a way of herselfe, for now they bringeme very deepely in too . . , the trwthe is, thaere is onely a little folly layed to her charge for doeing it, but the chiefe blaime is cast on your selfe and me. Sumtimes I am a weary of hearing it, how she was cast of, and forsaken, and left to herselfe, noe cowntinance showd her, nor care taken of her, but sent to a person's house, to a scoole, like a babie. But as I heare the buesines, this might a fallen out any wheare, for the man as I am tolde, lived not theare, but by acsident preached in that church, and theare fell in love with her, which for allt I know, him or sich a nother might a dun heare, if she wolde be see simple to harken to sich a thinge. Now all are for your getting of him a liveing, which sum say you may doe of Sir Eichard Piggot, and that is Grendon Parsonage, and your one whenever Mr. Butterfield dies. Soe now you are put in mind of it time enufgh.' Old Aunt Ursula who never lost an opportunity of making a sharp reflection on Sir Ealph, loudly declared that though Betty was a fool the blame was his.

Gary considers that Betty's ' high discontents was the caus of this rash ackt of casting herselfe away, nether is shee so much to bee condemned as many

THE WOOING OF MAKY ABELL 35

others. Lett us remember the Earl of Linsis's sister who married Dr. Huit,1 which was bot a chapling and was as destitut of preferment when her marriage was knone, as this man is ; and Sir William Eussels dauftar, and to goe nearer homb, my cossin Town- send. And 2 of these had grat fortuns, and the third enough to subsist — sartainly did upon them — and yet none of thies utterly cast of by ther frinds, the rather sopported, and her case much more excusabill then theirs ; for we have often red of men as have past for wise and pious both, yet the feare of want hath so far trans ported them, that they have lade A side not only reson bot religion and destroyed themselves, and I have often hard her say, that was her fear, whenever you failled, and truly souch thowts cause soul-sicknes.'

This impetuous bride of nine-and- twenty gave no relations any chance c to come up for her wedding ; ' indeed Peg had previously informed Sir Ralph, how on the first rumour of the 6 maridg ' she had sought her sister for four hours in the city ' and att the last mett with one as I knew she went out of her lodgen with, which in my disscourse with him, I fowned to fallter much in ansering the questions I put to him but att the last I threttned high if he did not bringe her out, or let me know wheare she was, I wolde

1 Lady Mary Bertie's marriage was an odd instance to quote of the happy results of marrying a clergyman, for Dr. John Hewitt took so active a part in the plots for murdering Cromwell that he was beheaded on Tower Hill.

D 2

36 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

come with that as should make him doe it, to them of higher power.' After these ambiguous threats had been launched, apparently at the head of the Bridegroom, he hastily retreated, undertaking that Betty should call on her sister that afternoon, ' ac- cordingly she came allthough too lait, for she maryed the Thursday after she came to town.' There is a NOV. 21, letter from Betty full of abject apologies 'for this

1662

great folt of mine which I should bee willing to Ack Knolig upon my knees ware I in presans too doo it/ but her new signature writ large at the bottom of the page reminds her brother that the great fault can never be undone, and she plucks up spirit enough to assert that ' I am not so much lost, as sum thinck I am, beecos I have maried one, as has the reput of an oneist man, and one, as in time I may live comfortably with.'

Even such a modest amount of domestic happiness seemed far out of reach, though Mr. Adams had one or two narrow escapes ; ' I was within 24 hours of a parsonage in Cheshire for your new Brother, of £120 per annum, but it is gone,' writes Dr. Denton; ' we must look about us for some perferment for him.'

The broad, kindly and wholly commonplace face of Charles Adams looks out of its black frame at Claydon, without a redeeming feature to suggest the romantic instinct that prompted his runaway marri- age. He eventually became ' Clerk of great Baddow

AMILY FROM THE 11ESTORAT

•

- h •"•-. is should make him doe it, to them .her power/ After these ambiguous threats 1 been launched, apparently at the head of the Bridegroom, he hastily retreated, undertaking that Betty should call on her sister that afternoon, * ac- cordingly she came allthough too lait, for she m the Thursday after she came to to There

NOV. 21, letter >etty full of abject apolo his

gn te which I should b Vck

knees ware I in pres;: uoo it/

Lure writ L lie bottom

her brother t! great fault

and she plucks up spirit <ert that * I am not so much lost, as sum th. beecos I have maried one, as has the

1st man, and' one, as in time I may live co- iy with.1

\odest amount of domestic happiness seemed far out of reach, though Mr. Adams had one or two n is with! of

a parson; her, of

£120 per annum, br ' we must look about IK< for some v him.'

The broad, kindly and wholly commonplace face

Vdams looks out of its black frame at

la redeeming feature to suggest the

instinct that prompted hi marri-

ag :: eventually becair- ow

//7V// //

THE WOOING OF MARY ABELL 37

in Essex,' and a highly respected member of the family circle, but meanwhile it was a standing joke with the sisters when they wished to torment their busy elder brother, that they would call upon him in the morning, and talk about Betty!

And so while poor 'Adam and Eve,' as Dr. Denton called them, met with nothing but reproaches and hard fare, Edmund and Mary were being feasted and honoured at Clay don. Good Mr. Butterfield saw the country damsel he had so gallantly cham- pioned, the central figure of the family rejoicings ; the square pew so long abandoned to moths and spiders, was filled to overflowing ; the Rector him- self in the glory of his new surplice for which Sir Ealph had supplied 'the cloth,' beamed down upon them all with unmixed satisfaction. Dame Margaret and Dame Mary from their niches in the chancel looked kindly upon the girl who was to carry on their work at Claydon, and take the woman's place in the empty house. A few weeks of the intimacy and confidence of married life had changed her careless lover into a devoted husband, and after enjoying Sir Ealph's hospitality and the festivities that fashion prescribed, the Edmund Verneys were to make their home in the old Manor House at East Claydon where Mary Abell had spent her childhood. But the assembled aunts and cousins, who warmly applauded Edmund's assiduous attentions to his young wife, were provoked to find that she was at

38 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

times moody, capricious, jealous or unreasonably depressed. Whence came this strange shadow, which seemed to alter Mary's whole character, and threatened to darken her life just as a happy and useful career was opening before her ?

PORCH OF THE WHITE HOUSE, EAST CLAYDON.

39

CHAPTEE II.

IN CHANCERY LANE.

O ! let me not be mad — not mad, sweet Heaven.' 1662-1665.

SIR NATHANIEL and Lady Hobart, the ' Sweet Nat ' and ' Sweet Nan ' of Sir Ealph's early days, were still in middle life the truest of friends and the most delightful of correspondents. Anne Hobart, with as warm and constant a heart as her sister, Doll Leake, was more a woman of the world, and was a very capable mistress of a family, and a great lover and grower of flowers. In 1652 Sir Nathaniel was made a Master in Chancery ' in Sir Ed. Leech his dead place,' and in 1658 the family removed from Highgate, that he might live near the law courts. Lady Hobart gave as her address ' A greate house in Chancery Lane, over against Lincoln's Inne, near the Three Cranes, next dor to the Hole in the Wall, within two dors of Mr. Farmer's and one dor of Judge Ackings.' The house was further distin- guished as being c nigh to the Pumpe ' and as having ' a very handsom garden with a wash hous in it.' The rent, 55Z. a year, was considered a heavy

40 VEENEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

one, and as there were more rooms than they required, Anne Hobart set her wits to work to reduce her expenses, by letting a part of the house to relations during the London season. Her first experiment of taking in her married daughter, Lady Smith, was not a success, and her next overtures were made to Sir Ealph, who since his return to England in 1653 had kept a, pied a terre in Co vent Garden or in Eussell Street.

Sir Ealph liked the idea, but other relations, who were accustomed to lodge near him, made indignant protests against his removal to so remote a quarter as Chancery Lane. ' Uncle Dr. and self mander most greviously att it,' writes Peg Elmes ; c I wish it a thousand inconveanyantis to you, & them moare as temted you to it.' On the other hand, Lady Hobart, with her hospitable anxieties, was not always easy to satisfy. 'You were not kind to me,' she writes one evening that Sir Ealph had dined out> when she had been ' busy all the morning buying a banquet, and in the afternoon at my Lady Bartley's to tech her to do paist, wich are all at your sarvis . . . but you not coming I intend to send my swetmeets into larland.' But on the whole Sir Ealph was free to come and go as he liked, and the evenings spent with Sir Nathaniel were most con- genial to him.

The winter of 1662-3 found Sir Ealph with Edmund and Mary Yerney settled in their own suite of rooms in Chancery Lane, to Lady Hobart's

IN CHANCERY LANE 41

intense satisfaction. Her daughters, Frances and Nancy, whose strong wills sometimes brought them into sharp collision with their mother, were fond of cousin Mun, and gave his bride a kind welcome.

Mary Verney's health and spirits had been very variable ; when she first arrived she was popular with them all, but she became subject to fits of moody silence or of hysterical excitement during which she was a torment to herself and all about her. She vexed her husband with unreasonable suspicions and imaginary grievances, or, as Dr. Denton expresses March 26,, it, 4 Zelotipia [jealousy] is gott into her pericranium, & I doe not know what will gett it out.' So disturb- ing an element in the house completely destroyed Sir Ealph's comfort ; he suddenly left for Claydon and 4 frightened them with his sad looks when he went away.'

Lady Hobart was constantly urging him to return. 4 Dear Sir Kalph, to tell you how much we want March 25*

r. 1663

you a nights, is not to be put in this paper, but hasen up, & you shall see how much you shall be mayd on. Your por son will be a very misarabell man in his wif I fear ; be sure you chuse a beter, but one you must have. To be serus, I am greved at hart, & though I have many trobells, yet 'tis as much to me as any of my on. If sorow or tears cold cuer hur she wold, for it has put a genarall sadnes in us all, & we wish you hear, but it can not but be a sad sight to you. I wish from my soil you had had mor comfort, but you ar a wis man, & must mack

42 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

the best of this, and thinck this world has mor crosis in it then blisings, but I hop you will at Last by your goodness rech haven.'

Dr. Denton reports that Mary is ' much worse, laughs more then before, speakes more boldly, descants uppon by standers, myselfe, Dr. Ent (for whom we sent), Sir Nat : Hob :, Sr. Wm. Smyth, & few escape her. She. is now averse from all phisick & bleedinge, soe that I doubt we shall have much to doe with her. If she will in any measure be ruled, I hope to get her out of this, but I shall be ever April 9, fearfull of returnes. . . . Though her illnes be out

1663

of the usuall Eoad of other distractions, yet I doe not like it the worse, but doe believe she is very capable of Cure.'

Sir Ealph thinks that ' all the Phisick in the World will not cure her, unlesse she strive against her Malancholly, & in a good measure proove her owne Doctor.' He sends ' a couple of Eent Capons March 23, fae miUer sent my Daughter with two Dozen Puddings for Lady Hobart & another two Dozen for Mary's Breakfast,' but he declines to return. Aunt Isham occupied Sir Ealph's room during his absence. ' Now Mis Hubbord and I have a Little more pleasure in your Bead than we had att the first,' she writes ; ' itt was so soft as itt had all most kiled us. So now we have gote a quilte & Lie very well. But we wante your good companey.'

Edmund had little chance of getting his affairs into order with such distracting anxieties and

IN CHANCERY LANE 43

expenses, and lie was often trying to economise in the wrong place. He had not a horse to ride, and his father who 'is overstocked with Jades, having 17 at grass & 8 more at the house,' will not lend him any, ' because you ought to keep your own, the country wonders how you can bee without them, & censures you very much for it.'

He begs his father to be at the Manor Court which the steward holds in his absence at East Claydon : ' Tout iroit mieux, car vostre presence abbattroit leur insolence, a cause de la veneration qu'ils vous doivent.'

Mr. Butterfield rates him vigorously for his management of his wife's land : ' I hate this rack- renting 'tis worse than usury . . . my own small rents come in roundly without any calling for.' He fears Mun will soon have all his land thrown on his hands, ' for none will ever come to your termes but some ale-house chap-men that never mean to pay. 'Tis not for the profit of the landlord to have to Feb. i,

-I £*£*O

do with such customers, out of whose fingers 'tis more difficult to get rents, then to do all one's other busines. 'Tis a poore trade to be alwayes proffer- ing one's commodities either to such as we know will not buy, or will not pay. Sett moderate rates upon your land, & you shall not want tenants, other- wise you shall have but little rent. This is truth, & you will finde it so.'

The White House was still in Mrs. Abell's hands, and there was a long but friendly bargaining over

44 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

the terms on which Edmund should take possession of it. He writes to Mr. Butterfield, ' I will give my mother 30/. a yeare for her house & horses tall & closes, she paying all taxes but Church & poore and chimeney money; but then I will have it for 99 yeares, if she so long live, that is for her whole terme . . . you may assure her from mee, that shee shall command that or anything else that I have in this world, & so present my humble service to Her & her sister.'

Mary Yerney's health improved ; in the summer of 1663 she and her husband stayed with Sir Ealph at Claydon House, and went with him and Lady Elmes to visit Lady Yere Gawdy ; and then on to the Warners,1 rich relations of Mary's, living at Milner in the same neighbourhood. Lady Hobart is curious to know from Sir Ealph ' how you did lick your tret. I hear it was much beyond Croshall, i desier the relason from cosen Elmes.'

There are ' large expressions ' of regret from all the company at Croweshall at their departure, to the which Sir Ealph desires to make a suitable return,, but he says to Doll Leake, writing from Milner at Oct. 3, 11 o'clock at night : ' Though you love a long letter ,, you know I love a short, & I am sure you are ever best pleased with what is most agreeable to the Lazy Humour of, Deare Cozen, your sleepy Dull, yet most affectionate humble servant/ To Lady Gawdy he* writes, ' I thanke you hartily over and over againe :;

1 Mrs. Warner was Mr. Gael's daughter.

IN CHANCERY LANE 45

'tis the King's own way of Bhetoricke when hee receives the greatest Boones, soe that I hope it may be allowed to bee courtly & in Fashion.' Dr. Denton hopes that Mary ' is welcome home, & that she hath left Mrs. Zelotipia behind, or else I am sure she is not come well home in mind at least.'

Edmund writes in November to Lady Hobart : Nov. 11,

1663

4 Madam, my thankes to you for receiving my family last winter, must at this time bee Ushers to desire the same favour of your Ladyship, if it may sute with your occasions, for I esteeme it not the least of my happinesse to live among such good company ; to the end I may be as little trouble as possible, I doe intend, if you thinke fitt, to bringe up Besse a purpose to cleanse my chamber, & to doe all other necessary work, so that I shall be one more in number now then I was before.' He will wait on her ' about the latter end of the Terme, & stay till a little after Christmasse.'

Lady Hobart, undeterred by former experiences, was full of hospitable preparations. Sir Ealph's quarters must be quite to his liking. ' I have whited Oct. 16 the room, & stars hed, & clened the bed and hanings. Pray send me word whether the chamber shall be paned at the full bignes or no. If it be, it will be Ligheter at the chimny, but then your beach box must stand in one of the closets. The dor must goo in by your man's beds fet. Now fur the stabels. i have my chos of 2 ; one in Magpy Yard. Thar is a pond in the yard to wash the horses and

46 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

very good water. It will hold four horsis, and the hay loft will hold 4 lod of hay ; ther is bins for ots. Thay say they ar very honist and sivell people ; judg Ackings coach has stod thar this 14 year. Now thar is another at the Eed Harp in Feter Lan ; tis one turning mor beyond the Magpy, but it has the same convenency. The Magpy is 16 pound a year, if thay Log a man ; the other i can have for 14 pound.'

A little later she has ' paynted all the windows and mayd all clen. You may come when you will, but you sayd you will Ly on a quilt, thar fer I must beg you to bring on, for i have non. I have mayd all my hous beter than it was for clennes, but i am very wrought in my stomack. Pray send me som grens to set agans my new wall & som Jeseney & hunicuckells.'

For Edmund and his wife she has prepared the 6 gret chamber. I now want a bed ; if it be not to much trobell to you to send up som curtans & valanc, for at presant I want som. If it be your wroght ons, or any other, it will be much mor con- venant for them, & thay shall hav the Low rom at thar sarvis to set in, & to bring all compeny in to, for we did want that very much Last year. Hur mayds shall have a very good Login to thar selfs whar hur truncks shall stand. . . . Pray tell Bes King she must Leve tiling storys ; my mayds dred hur, thay Live quietly senc she went. But for what she sayd to me, I forgive hur, & wold have her com

IN CHANCERY LANE 47

to dow thar worck; it will be very convenant for me. She may wash all thar clos hear. Say nothing to hur master, & pray Let them bring up 2 par of shets for thar on bed. I will have on hundred of fagets Layd into your wod hous redy aganst you com. My mayd shall Ly in all the beds, & all shall be well ared.'

Mrs. Abell hopes that her dear daughter Mary may ' inioy the pleasures of the towne, which God be blessed, you have all the reasone in the world soe to doe. I am troubled with that illness at my hart that I was when you left me. I have often wished my selfe with you since you went from hence, that I might in some part partake of your pleasure, but that is a thing that I have bine weaned from a long time, & the onely comfort that I have now left me is your Deere selfe. I have soe great a tye & obly-gation upon me for my Dearest of frinds sake, as allsoe for your owne sweet deportment allways towards me, that it hath for ever obliged mee.' But these love- able qualities were again to be sadly overclouded. The noise and bustle of town life probably affected poor Mary's nerves, and she had not been long in Chancery Lane before the distressing symptoms returned with increased violence.

The relations had hoped much for Sir Ealph from Edmund's marriage. His extreme kindness to all the younger ladies of the family, and the pleasure he took in their society, promised great happiness to a daughter-in-law. He had given his son's bride the

48 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

kindest of welcomes. We know that he was not exacting as to the amount of book-learning to be demanded of a woman, but he was fastidiously alive to any lack of politeness and good breeding, and no lady could be permitted to do the honours of his house who did not come up to his fine standard of taste and courtesy. Such were the traditions left by his mother and his wife ; and it was their want of refinement that made the society of some of his sisters so trying to him. Mary Abell, though homely and unformed, had the gentle voice and manner belonging to an unaffectedly sweet and modest nature, and she was young enough to learn all Sir Ealph's example would have taught her, had not her unhappy malady completely estranged him from her.

The degree of moral responsibility attaching to actions on the borderland of sanity, was a problem far beyond the medical science of the day ; and Sir Ealph took a severe view of Mary's want of self- control. As she grew worse, the slovenliness of her person and attire, and the indecorum of her conduct, aroused in him nothing but sheer disgust ; her screams, and her still more terrible laughter so irritated his nerves, that his only wish was to fly from any house in which she might be. All Lady Hobart's plans for him were overthrown ; the old opinion once more prevailed, that he would be driven to marry again, and that his choice was likely to be Yere, Lady Gawdy. Another version of the rumour had reached that lady, and she hastens to congratu

IN CHANCERY LANE 49

late him : 6 1 heare you are not farr from inioyinge A Considerable pleasur, if our sex might procure it you ; if it bee so, may all that renders women les worthy then Men bee exempt from the Parson you shall make happie.'

He let them talk, and left town for Claydon in January 1664, making the journey in one day. Lady Hobart entreats him while he is alone to go to bed betimes ; fi i mack my Nat dew so ... all here want you espeshally Nancy,' whose wild manners had 6 gron sivell ' in Sir Ealph's company. ' We have a bad day or tew with my swet she cosen Varney. She has the mesells, & I fear in gret danger . . . your son Lis in a palet in hur chamber. I must tell you, if she war the quen she cold not be beter locked to. I wold not for the world have hur dy in my hous, but god's will must be don. She has asked her husban pardon, & is sory for what she has don, & has promased to be a new woman if she live. My Nat wants you very much, for we are much a Lon.'

Doll Leake writes, c I hear she is very sensible of Feb. 10,

1 C*£*A

the ill opinion she has had of hir husband ; I pray she may live to deserve the kindness he has ever paid hir. I am sure he will be willing to remit all that is past, and if she lay -that yumer a side, she has so many good things in hir, it will be a great content- ment to him, and satisfaction and plesur to all that love him.'

The best side of his nature was brought out by his wife's sad condition, much as she had tried his

VOL. IV. E

50 VEENEY FAMILY FEOM THE EESTOEATION

patience; the terrible symptoms which so repelled and disgusted Sir Ealph, only made Edmund more constant and pitiful in his attendance upon her. He sent frequent reports of her health to Claydon. Feb. i, ' Mon tres cher pere, — J'ai beaucoup a vous

1664 . , , . , . . .

escrire toucnant plusiers choses, mais je ne puis nen dire, je suis tellement afflige a cause du tres grand danger dans lequel ma pauvre femme gist a present, elle a les Eougeoles dont le danger je crois est passe, mais elle a une fievre continue, qui me perce le coeur, par manque de repos n'ayant point dormi il y a environ cinq nuits. . . . Dieu a soign des petits aussi bien que des grands, & pour moi je mets tout mon espoir en lui seul, & je le supplie avec toute soumission imaginable qu'il daigne redonner la pleine sante a ma chere et vertuese femme/

The household in Chancery Lane was struck by the sensibility he displayed ; his father is afraid of his being too constantly with his sick wife, and begs that he will walk in the garden as often as possible ; while Mr. Butterfield acknowledges c though I were heartily sorry for the cause of your sorrow, yet it pleased mee to heare how passionately you tooke it, & I hope this demonstration of your affection, will take off all occasion of future jealousies.' *

In a few days Sir Ealph was back in town ; poor Mary having recovered from the measles, fell much more seriously ill with small-pox. Doll Leake's solicitude on her behalf was tempered with dread of the infection for lives still more precious to her. She

IN CHANCEEY LANE 51

is anxious that Sir Kalph should not go into the sick Mar. 3, chamber. c If she lives, which I hope she shall, I pray ] she may deserve the care and kindness hir pore husband has had and taken with hir. I pray send to Mrs. Wisman — Sidenham I mean — for a medson for hir face. It is very safe, & never any peted [pitted] that yused it. Both Mrs. Abell's sisters yused it, and were very full.' Mary happily re- covered 'without any inconveniency to her com- plexion.'

Mrs. Abell adds some motherly advice to her congratulations : c There is now noe thing more remaines to make yourselfe hapy in this world, then to have a cheerfull hart, & a good opinion of your selfe : which I doe not doubt, being soe sensible of your owne condision, but you will indevour what lyes in your power to gaine.'

Nothing was more completely out of Mary's reach than a cheerful heart, but she seemed fairly well, and by the advice of the whole family Edmund went to Clay don with his father, for rest and change, after his arduous nursing. Lady Hobart, Frank and Nancy offered with unselfish courage to take charge of his wife.

The state of public affairs made Sir Ealph and Dr. Denton very anxious. A subservient House of Commons was ready to surrender the chief safeguard which the Long Parliament had provided against the King governing without calling a Parliament.

It was in accordance with the best traditions of

E2

52 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

the county, that the member for Buckingham should throw himself into the breach, risking the loss of the Court favour which he had been thought to value

Mar. 25, only too highly. c The debate on tuesday was about the Trienniall Bill,' writes Dr. Denton, ' for the Damninge of which Prynne spake most des- perately & Sr E[ichard] T[emple] as desperately to preserve it, & if all be true made a very coxco- miny of Pryn confoundinge him demonstratively, causinge severall Acts to be read shewinge his palpable mistakes or wilfull perverting the text, & that the Bill was not an Act of Grace, but the peoples right & ought not to be denied them, nay that it was A condicention in the ParP, & a wavinge of part of theire right by takinge a Trienniall, when an Annual! par? was theire due by former Acts of par? wch he caused to read, & for wch you may be sure he is farther become A wfiite Hall Favorite the cleane contrary way.' He adds a few days later,

Mar. 31 ' Mr. Vaughan came to towne on Satterday, & on Munday he pealed it away about Tryennialls an houre & halfe by the clock, spake soe desperately home that he out-shott Sr E. T. ten bowes length, but all in vaine, the Bill is ingrossed, marcht upp to the Lords & soe farewell Magna Charta.'

Sir Nathaniel Hobart is not of Dr. Denton's opinion ; he thinks that Mr. Solicitor in defending the new Bill ' had both right & rhetorick of his side.'

April i, ^ne Lords passed it ' without any alteration, tho' there wanted not Critticks who quarreld both with

IN CHANCERY LANE 53

the form & the words, but the wiser Lords thought it not safe to returne it to the Commons with any amendment for fear of Mr. Vaughan & Sir Kich. Temple.' ' Yaughan is lookt upon as malcontent ; ' he ' would have raised a filthy dust ' had he reached town sooner.

The news of Mary does not improve. ' We have Mar. 20,

1 (*{*A

had a sad day with your dafter,' writes Lady Hobart. 6 She now hats us all but thar to mayds, & this day she has bin kind to franck wich dos pies me much, for she must not be out with all at once. I have sen your chamber very clen & Locked up, for non shall Ly thar till you com. My she cosen would fan have Lyed thar as soon as you went, & have had her hus com doun to hur, but i bed hur be contented, for no body shold Ly thar. I have no mor to say but Love your self, & mack much of honis Sir Eaphe, for when he is gon, his frinds will not find shuch another. I am suer por me shant, thar for Love hur that is Sir your sarvant to command A. Hobart/ 4 Tusday our cosen was very ill all day, and hyly Mar. 23, discontented. At night thay had no way but to give hur a sleping pell, & she slep all night & till ten in this morning, & wacked very tame but sulen. We had much adow to get hur to eat a bet, but with much in trety at Last she did eat a leg of a rabit, & had a mind to goo a brod & i did goo with hur as fur as Kensington, & as we cam back she wold goo in to the parck, & if she will she must and did, & was very well but sayd very letill, but as we cam

54 VEKNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

horn she wished she had never com to London, but stayd with dear mother, for nobody dos love hur but she and por Jan. And tould the gearls & me she mought have lived if she had had som about hur, & raled on us all, & begon to gro very bad. So at last I did persuad hur to wright to hur hus to let hur Live with hur mother. So she is now a writing in gret wroth. She says he shall hear a pes of hur mind. Bats [Dr. Bates] is out of town,' but Dr. Denton at night ' gave her dainty ease, & soe she continued all Wenesday, & marcht abroad.'

Edmund rejoices to hear of the slightest improve- ment ; he writes to Mary from Claydon : Mar. 29, ' My Deare wife, — It was no small joy to mee the

1664

reading your lines, and the hearing of your riding fourth, whereby I take it for granted that you are not so ill as you would seem to be — this good newes came to me by my man after my returne from Northampton Fayre, where I have bought you three gallant bay coache-horses, for to carry you abroade a ayring after your tedious sicknesse, therefore pray thee to be of a couragious & cheerefull spirit and chase away all those timerous & melancholy thoughts which make thee conceit thy selfe in more danger than really thou art : my deare soule if thou hast any kindnesse for me be ruled by me & the rest of thy freinds, who are with thee, and do not think thy selfe more knowing then all of us, but thinke thy husband adviseth thee best, when he desireth thee to banish all despayring fancies, & to submitt unto our

IN CHANCERY LANE 55

great Makers pleasure, be it in life or death or any affliction whatsoever, & that not only without repining but also with cheerefulnesse : and as touch- ing my particular part, thou mayst assure thy selfe it hath & shall be acted with all the demonstrations of a pure and sincere love towards thee, & I do send my servant as my forerunner to know at this time how thou dost, hoping to he are yet of thy growing better & better before I see thee, wch shall bee as soone as possibly my businesse will permitt, yea &

sooner too if thou requirest it pray present

my services to my 2 cosens H : and to my Uncle Dr., as also to his colleague Dr. Bates, & let mee find by thy observance of my desires that thou dost remember

Thy most Loving husband

EDMUND YERNEY.'

The improvement is not sustained, and Lady Hobart's mind misgives her : ' Pray dow not stay to Mar. Long, nor kep your son, for i am so full of fears that i dar not stur, for fear she shold have a freck of run- ing out ... in earnes she is very disablegin, I fear you have played the arant Theife with me for all my fin seeds, I have bin starck mad for them ; it was ill don to tack all. Send me som of them agan, or your wig shall off. As the weather is windy & stormy abrod, we have had our shar with my cosen with in. She has bin very ill yuemered, by fits i may tell you mad. She has cryed & scremed &

56 VEKNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

singed & raled on us all, & por docker tow. Now Bats is all & all with hur ; she says she thinks in hur hart he is not yet corupted, but thar is nothing but hur mayd Jan, but longs for hur deth. She dos says such things as flesh and blod never hard. To days i kept from hur, only morning and night Locked in to see how hur to mads did order her. I be Leve if she had all hur estat in her powr, Jan shold have it be for all the world.

' She has tacken ephsome waters this thre days. I fear her ill yumer will never be quered [cured]. For two days she did cry send for hur hus, but now she is off from that, but she dos hat us all. 0 dear sur raph i feare she will never be well ; hur por hus will have a sad tim with hur. He must stick to it,, but for us we may be quit of it in tim. I lock on her as one has brought a fourtin to your son, but tis with so many ill yuemers, that he had beter have had a sober woman in her smock. God give him pashenc to bar his cros. . . . His best way will be to kep hur in the country, but you can never be abell to Live with hur, so tis well to Leve them ; he will be wery of his Lif with hur, but I wold never wish him to bring hur to town agan. My hous has bin very unfortunat to hur, & she says she will set a cros on it. I love my cosen, but til she is beter, I shall never desier it. We shall be very hapy & quiet when we have got you agan. The garden locks so findly you wold be plesed with it. Dear Sir be Leve i cold sarve you next to my Nat with my Lif. . . .

IN CHANCEEY LANE 57

She says we wold poisen hur. Pray Let hur hus- band com up, for i can not abyd to be raled at. He will kep hur from it.'

Her next letter has been labelled ' Lady H. per- suades Sir E. V. to marry.' ' Sir I am Joyed to hear you ar will. You have the plesuer of the country & the fin flours now in the spring, but I cold wish that worck men war as hard to get as gold then you wold not set them a worck. You had beter be hear & viset the fin wedows so in time you mought get a companion ; tis tim, for when i lock on that plas whar you have Layd out so much mony, & you still a Ion at Bed & Bord, i thinck half that, with a good vartus hansom sober bedfelow war beter, as now your cas stands. For I fear your sonn will not have much comfort in this woman, for in deed she gros wors than ever. She gros very malisas in hur toung to us all. She has set us all out to Sir Eobart wisman in a bas maner. However i will bar with hur, & dow all i can till hur husband corns, wich I hop will not be long, for she is not to be without him; she is afrayd to dow twenty things when he is hear that she dos now. Still she is fond of Jan, & if i may say betwen you and i, she is mor to hur then all the world ; she now Lys with hur.'

Dr. Denton writes, ' Your daughter is noe change- linge yet ; A Diabollical Agew, up and downe, one day Hosanna, the next crucifiye. She hath not many dayes to live, then not many weeks, soe I am now drivinge A subtle trade & began yesterday. I gave

58 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

her a peece in gold, and she is to give me 40/. if she lives to that day 40 weeks, & I hope that noble soul her husband will make it good ; the reason is demon- strative, for he will be well paid for her keeping, which is now the constant burden of her songe. Cock sure she putts on & assumes much, very much of the vastly extravagant humors. My Lady Hob art is soe disobliged and soe weary that she longs much for Mun's presence. Consider of this crotchet for Mun, when he finds he does no good on her to feigne travellinge, & to leave her to her selfe with an allowance.'

An entreaty for Edmund's return is the ever recurring burden of Lady Hobart's letters ; she is in deep distress at the poor woman's vagaries. ' She gos out with her mayd to Lincsondend chapell. Thay goo so Lick trampis, so durty tis a sham to see them. Docker denton did chid them soundly. Now she will have coridon [Dr. Colladon]. Truly she is starck mad . . . Sir Eobart wiseman says it war fit she shold be removed ... for his part he wold not have hur for a hundred pounds in his hous. Thay say he gave hur very good councill, & did chid hur mitily. ... I fear she will be wors ; she eats one bet & feds Jan with another, & drincks to hur, & they Ly in on another's arms ; so much dearnes i never saw. She bit Bes to-day & tor hur hed, for she was in the hall, & begon to fall a roring, & she tock hur up in hur arms & cared hur up, be caus thar was compeny about. Now dear sur Eaph send her hus up, for she

IN CHANCERY LANE 59

will dow som extravagant thing, & I can not help it. I have don all I can, it will not dow. Dear dow not tack it ill that i dow not goo to hur, for my care shall be never the Les. ... I am slepy arid vexet, & now I fear I have vexed you, but I say no mor.'

Sir Ealph still lingered on and was anxious to delay his son's return to such sad duties. Dr. Denton supports Lady Hobart's appeal. ' Dear Eaph, Cuckow-time approachinge I must be in fasshion & continue in one tonge. I leave the pretty stories to my Lady to write, but its high time both you and your son were here.'

This letter crossed one of Mun's to his wife : —

' My deare Mall, — I thank you for your kind April 4,

i /»/» j

expressions in your last to mee, but I should reckon my selfe much more obliged to you, if your behaviour toward my friends arid your observance of my desires were answerable, I must needs tell you what civill respect and kindnesse you have showed to them, I shall esteeme it as done to my selfe, as likewise the contrary, therefore as the saying hath it Love mee & love my dogg, so I say that if you love me you'le love those that are my real! & worthy freinds. I wish I may not find when I come to London that you have been faulty towards some of them, I am afraid you are too apt to it. I speake this because I do so highly abhorr in my owne nature that devilish vice Ingratitude : and now I must tell you besides that I will never beleeve you love me unlesse you observe me, & do what ever I would have you to doe, I have

60 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

performed so thoroughly to you, that few husbands would have done so much whereby I have made it appeare that I do love you more than you do mee, for you have not done it to mee, nay so far are you from it that you persist still wilfully in your idle and ridiculous imaginations that you shall die untimely, with many the like follies etc : Thus do you yeild to your black melancholy and dismall humours so much that they overcome you at last in such measure as to make you seeme extravagant ; but pray do so no more, & then & never till then will I beleeve that you love me.' April 9, Dr. Denton writes again, < As soone as I had writ

1 ftfl A

you this morninge, I went accordinge to custome to visitt my neece, who kept me an houre by the clock, & I beleeve by her good will would not be without a Phismicary, a minute by night nor by day, & there- fore I must love her dearely, but in truth I used her very coarsely, for she drest her selfe in all hast to goe to church, & I kept her in by force. She was gott halfe way downe staires, & I made Besse take her in her armes & carry her upp, I told her in plaine tearmes that she was mad & was now to be used as those in Bedlam, & that her maids should be putt away, & strangers putt to her to master her, & that I would not venture her husband to sleepe with her. Though I talked all the while after this rate, yet (whatever she thought) she gave me not an ill word, but seemed rather the better for it. You will find that rough meanes will prevaile best & most

IN CHANCERY LANE 61

with her. I pitty poore Mun, & longe to see you both here, and soe good night to you.'

'Yesterday docker Bats saw hur in a wors fet April?, then ever he did,' Lady Hobart writes 6 & he sayd he wold com no mor. At night she bet hur mayd Jan out of hur bed, & was raving -all night. I am fan to hyer one to wach, for the mayds are afrayd. She sent this day for Docker Corydon ; she has sent ofen, but he cam not til to day. She hats us & the docker to deth. She struck at me, but i am carfull not to com to near hur — I kep knifs & shears from hur. Ah how i pety por cosen mun, that must bar this hevy cros. This day she raves for Prydian [Dr. Prujean] but till my cosen corns i will dow nothing. I will run away if he corns not. Dear sur, pety your son & at present por me. Tusday was hur bearthday, & the docker tould hur he wold com & drinck hur health, & so he did, & bespock all he wold have & brought all his family. They set him on the scor abot forty shilings, ther was Mr. fuler & his wif & all the rest, & thay war very mery. She cam down, & for half an hour did cary hur self will, but be for & afther she was as bad as ever.' Lady Elmes wrote of these dismal festivities to her brother : — 6 The 5th instant we all drancke your helth att my lady Hobart's ; my uncle Dr. inviteing himselfe & all of us heare to supper to my Neese Verney, it being her berthday. Soe she was forsed to treat us, my uncle asureing her he & all his wolde come to her. I wish I had cause to say we did it with Joy.'

62 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

Mun returned soon after his wife's birthday ; he

had only been gone a fortnight, though his absence

had seemed so long to Lady Hobart. He wrote to

his father : —

Aprils, c J'arrivai hier ici, ou i'ai trouve ma femme dans

1664

la salle, en mauvais humeur, me disant qu'elle estoit bien aise de me voir auparavant de mourir. . . . Ce matin elle essaya de se jetter hors des fenestres, et prit une epingle, la mettant dans sa bouche, la voulant avaler, disant qu'il faut qu'elle aille en enfer ; certainement son esprit est grandement trouble, elle a une telle volonte qu'elle contredit tout ce qu'on lui desire de faire.'

April 14, ' Ma femme devient pire en corps et en esprit, et

j'ai peur qu'elle ne devienne encore plus pire en ame, car elle est si opini&tre qu'elle ne veut pas manger chose aucune, ou faire ce qu'on la supplie, un tant Diable de vouloir a t'elle et une melancholic et jalousie tant profonde. Mais pourquoi suis je fasciae", je me blame extremement pour cela, car helas la pauvrette est folle tout k fait, et ne sgauroit qu'y faire, et moi j'en suis tellement afflige que je ne sgai pas quoi faire, ou quelle voye me tourner. . . . J'ai escrit a mon oncle D. de venir ici, a fin de consulter avec d'autres medicins, comme Dr. Ent, ou Pridgeon ou Nurse, ou avec tout, outre lui et Dr. Bates, car je crains beaucoup que ma chere femme est en tres grand danger de mourir. Elle a deux nourices qui veillent aupres d'elle nuit et jour, tout cela me coustera bien de 1' argent, mais pourtant si cela me

IN CHANCERY LANE 63

mine il n'y a point de remede. Mon oncle Gale n'est pas en ville, mais le chevalier Wiseman me conseilla de la mettre dans la maison d'une nomme Lentall, en la rue d'Aldersgate, qui prend des gens comme cela, mais me semble k moi, et a d'autres de mes amis, que ce lieu la est trop scandaleuz et deshonorable. Je voudrois bien que ma mere fut ici, et je vous supplie de vous haster a venir ici pour adviser en cet estroit, ce que je dois faire en prudence.'

Lady Hobart is full of pity for the poor husband. 'Truly it has put him in gret Distractions, but now i hop he will bar it beter, senc he sees it can be no beter. For presanc she is removed, & it is so remoet that she can not be hurd to your chamber. We have borded up the wendow & Locked & bared up all saf. In earnis she is in a wors madnes then ever, though not so raving, for now she wil nether drinck, nor tack her fisick, but Ly & bemon hur self. She is falen quit away ; her thy is no bigher then Besis arm, & as Limp as can be. At this rate she can not Last. I have set up a bed for Will & Dick in the fals roof very will. Owen Lys at fardings, so we ar all as we ues to be agan. Pray send up if you have it, the spon to put fisick doun hur throt.' ' Now she thincks hur selfe bewiched, & April is,

1 RRA.

i am one & have an evell ey, but this is not to the purpos. My nat I blis god is very will, & very much your sarvant. I am the worst in the hous, but rub out. I shall chear up when you com/

Dr. Denton writes to Sir Ealph, 'Beally she

64 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

April 14, growes well towards a sceleton, & if she cannot be

•I /»/» A

brought off from her fooleries, she cannot last longe, ... I have cut off her haire.'

April 10, ' I am not desirous to come nearer/ writes Sir

Ealph, ' unlesse I could do some good, either to her or to you. In this case Phisitians are the best councellours. I pray bee alwaies uppon your Guard, I meane by way of Watchfulnesse, for if she will hurt her selfe in those sad fits, none can bee secure thats with her. I shall pray for her recovery, & that Heaven would direct you in this greate

April 11, businesse. God bless her & you.' c Tell me who is

1 fifi4

about your wife Mght and Day, for she must not

bee left alone, nor with any that are affrayd of her.

I am soe troubled for her, that it puts my Businesse

April is, out of my Head.' . . . ' I finde you wish me at

1 AA A.

London, & were it in the least kinde advantagious to you or your Wife to have me there I would come away at a minutes warning. But since I can doe neither of you two any good, perhapps I may stay heere a few dayes longer, in hopes to heare some better Tydings of her, for the truth is it affects me soe much heere, that I am not very desirous to come nearer, for though she speakes scencibly, & that you thinke she doth not rave, yet I heare she often makes a very noyce, soe that she is heard by the Neighbours, & that must needes encrease the greife of any man that heares it. God direct you for the best. I thinke you may doe well to meet your Mother halfe a mile out of Towne with your coach & carry her to your

IN CHANCERY LANE 65

Wife presently ; I thinke she will take it kindly. She comes upp in Sexton's coach. The House you speake off in Aldersgate St. I doubt is for a meaner sort of people. Tis best to let her owne friendes dispose her, for that will give more satisfaction to all that side, & thats to bee your - endeavour, for all your owne friendes are satisfied already.'

At length a ray of hope breaks upon the per- plexed husband. He has heard of a woman named Clark, who will undertake to cure his wife in two months for 2 CM. ; but he dares not trust his wife to her without having consulted with her uncle Gael. Edmund will not consent to put her in a public institution, or in any house where they would be free to take in other patients ; he thinks of taking a private lodging, and observing exactly all that the doctors prescribe for her treatment. Sir Ealph replies :

' I know not what to say to the Woeman more then this, that unlesse her owne friends desire & advise it, twill not bee fit for you to put her to bee cured, for if any ill accident should follow, all the world would blame you for it. I confesse divers Woemen have very good receits, & good successe too, & frequently have cured those that the Drs. have not ; but all that will not excuse you from a just censure.'

Lady Hobart writes, c Your son's wif is very ill April 21, uemored still. I am the divell of divells ; I sent hur hus in the contry, & she thincks i kep him away all

VOL. IV. F

66 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

day, & thes ar the quarels with me. Thay ar remov- ing hur ; god blis hur whar ever she goos. Mrs. Beckers taf had a dafter, as she is 13 year, & a woman did cuer hur. The woman was hear & dos ax but 20 pound, & dos not desier it till she is cuered. I find the dockers are not wiling to Let it be don that way. She is one of that quality that must not be delt with Lick another, but if she war my child I shold venter hur. But your son has a wolf by the ear.'

' If you come not up quickly,' Pegg writes, c you will not be in time to dance at Mistress Arabella Hewet's wedding.'

The spring of 1664 was ca rare season,' Croweshall was in more than its usual beauty, and Doll Leake longed for Sir Ealph ' to smell the sucklins and the stocks & to see the new trees grow.' There is a little Vere now, chasing the butterflies in the prim old garden, the light of her grandmother's eyes, who ' sayes that she owes hir dear Verney a thousand kisses for glofes & ribins ' and desires ' her constant service ' to him. Lady Gawdy is shocked to hear that her old friend is so much upset by the family troubles that he thinks of going abroad. May 12, c You must pardone mee,' she writes, ' if I presume to tell you, that if you forsack your one contry, & should goe by yond sea, you would bee very unjust to your sonne, your selfe, & to all that have the honour to bee related to you. This is a time most proper of all your life to sett at the helme, & to help steere for your famelys good. . . . It is possible the

IN CHANCERY LANE 67

wisest parsons may faile in there iudgments, when there consernes dus transport, & a foole may chanse to show them the neerest way to there hapines ; if I were so blest I should never againe repine at my May want of wisdom. I am extremly greved to he are the sad condission of your daughter dus so highly woorke upon you. Deare Sir you have to sattisfie your selfe that never parson in the world has used such a relation more oblegingly, nor passed by all offences so silently as you have. Therefore doe not destroy your selfe by discontent.'

Sir Ealph assures her that whatever his thoughts may have been he has no present intention to travel, and her obliging letter has convinced him ' that tis not yet fit to be donn.'

Doll Leake is of opinion that ' they take a very Ap. 27, ill way with my cossen Verney to send hir to Dr. prijon's ; I never heard of any he cured, and hirs is of that natur, that if she wear well, the next thing that crost hir yumer should put hir in it again.'

' Let not that Doctor yus hir any more so ruffly,' May is, she writes again later. ' I studed hir a littell, & I am much deseved if any Doctor can make a perfect cure in hir. Nothing but death can free hir from that disese, which will be a blesing to hir & to us all. ... I wish my self with you som times to make you mery, though my yumer is not very gamesom.'

Mary's health improved, however, beyond expecta- tion, & by the middle of August she was moved to East Clay don accompanied by c the woman Dr.'

F 2

68 VEENEY FAMILY FKOM THE RESTORATION

Sir Balph, who was staying with the Stewkeleys at Preshaw, writes from thence : — Aug. 24, c Mun, I very much desire to heare how your Wife

1 AA/i

is now, & whether she begins to minde her houshold businesse, & ordering her Family. In earnest you must perswade her to it by all the wayes you can & commend her doing of it at all times, & though she doe not doe it well, yet you must commend her for it, & keepe her to it, still ; for as her condition is I had rather she should doe it, though she doe it ill, then any body else though they doe it well. Beleeve me though you loose by her doing of it, yet you will gayne ten times as much by it another way ; for if she would bee brought to imploy her minde about it, I am confident it would doe her more good then all her Phisick. Let her governe the whole Family, & let her give order for everything in it, & not trust to others doeing of it, but doe it her selfe. And I thinke tis best to get her to keep a house booke, & set downe all thats bought, & cast it upp once a Weeke (every Friday night). She her selfe may cast it upp as often as she pleaseth, but you need doe it but once a Weeke. Be sure you put this on with all your endeavours, for if anything under heaven doe her good, tis imployment, a full & constant imploy- ment. God blesse you both togeather — Your loving father E. Y. Tell me if my Brother [Henry] & his Dame [Pen] were with you, & how you came off' Aug. 29, Edmund sends him a cheerful account of their

joint doings. * Ma femme se porte bien, mais ayant

IN CHANCERY LANE 69

hier beu beaucoup de vin, et mange du fromagge, elle commencoit au soir a estre un peu detourbee. . . . Je suis d'avis qu'elle mesnagera sa maison tres bien, et qu'elle si addonnera avec le temps. Nous sommes alles, elle et moy seulement, disner chez le Chevalier Pigott, ou elle se deporta extremement bien, devant grande compagnie, nous avons este aussi chez mon Cousin Dormer, et demain nous irons a Batcliff' The friends who had so patiently borne with Mary in her madness were not forgotten. Edmund sent Lady Hobart's daughter Frank a present of 5/., and 10/. to sister Anne. Frank replies: 'I have sent according to your desires the spatula, which I was in hops you would not have used any more. For the mony it came to my hands — I have given the ten pounds to Nan, who returns her humble thanks to you. But for the last it gave me soe great a surprise that it put me strangly out of contenance to receve favours of that nature where I have merited soe little. I can not expresse the joy I have to heare you arrived safe at Claydon, where I wish my poor cousin may have an absolute cure. It shall be my continuall prayer, & in order to her futer repose, let me begge of you to be more kind, for of late you have bine too ruffe. Consider you have your perfect reson ; she is deprived of hers, & imput all her errors & indiscretions to her distemper, & bare with them as you have done formerly. There is nothing will be more acceptable to god, nor can any thing render you more considerable to all the world.

70 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

And beside, you will quickly lose the great reputa- tion you have goten of being a good husband, which will be a great dishonour to you, & I hope you will be more noble then to trample upon what is in your power. Let not any of her little miscarriages chang the goodness of your natur. Beleve me cousin, it is the great respect I have for you, & the affection I beare to your wiffe maks me take this liberty/

Lady Hobart could not but rejoice to have her house to herself again, she is looking into every chest & cupboard with severe reflections upon Mary's maidens.

' Bess is the gretis slut I ever had in my lif & now i com to lock up all my things has destroyd me mor then ever any sarvant did, & the basest desembling wench ever cam into any bodys hous.' She is refreshed by a visit to Sir Thomas & Lady Hewytt at Pishobury. ' If you wold tack your coch & com & fech me,' she writes to Sir Ealph, ' you ned not fear your recepson ; it will be be yound your mearit. I wish you hear, for in my Lif you never saw mor netnes & clendlynes ; & then a willcom with so much fre kindnes as wold winn any creture to admier it. I never was mor plesed in any plas in my Lif.'

She writes to Mun, c I have a tru Love for you both. She is a very good woman, & if she mends will be consedrabell to you. I hear she locks to hur hous wil, & gros a prety huswif & delights in it. Oysters ar very good, & I know you Love them, so I

IN CHANCERY LANE 71

have sent you a basket of them.' ' My wife (I praise God) is very hansomly recovered every way/ Edmund replies, ' & did fully resolve were she not so very slow (I know not how sure shee may bee), to write unto your Ladiship an epistle of hearty thanks for all your singular & manifold favours whereof you have been so liberall to her & mee both. Indeed they have been so vast, that I cannot imagine how she'lle ever be able to set forth her deepe sence thereof, for I am certain my Witt can never do it for either of us.'

Edmund expresses in every letter his joy in his wife's recovery ; both were taking pleasure & interest in their home and its plenishings. Frank Hobart is to send down the curtain rods ; Sir Nathaniel is to order a frame for what his wife calls Edmund's c gibbonish Whimwham ; ' while Mary despite her slowness con- trives to write a number of epistles to Lady Elmes about her special commissions. ' Sr Ealph & my cosen Leke both teles me, as you ded before, that gimp is out of fashing ; tharfore i shall quit my sellf of the troble by taking your advice to worke a dimity bed in gren cruells. For a drawing-rome i should have 2 squobs, & 6 turned woden chars of the haith of the longe seates. Be pleased to by a tabel & stands of the same coler ; & for the same rome a pair of andirons, doges, fire shvl, tongs & thre bras flours with irnes to fasten my glas. I have yet my closet to furnish, & I beg your asistanc in it. I think to hange it with peregon, but the coler, & whether it shall be watered or no i leve to you. If goodnese

72 VEKNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

might merit honer, thar is none could be greater then dere Aunt Elemes ; my self only hapey in being alied to a person so truly vertueus.' Aunt Elmes can find no tolerable chairs under 7s. a piece, & the squobs 10s.

Sept. 23, Sir Ealph writes, 4 Munn, truly I could wish your

Wife might take noe more Phisick at this time, for I finde it much talked off, & to your disadvantage. My Cozen Dormer's Family had been with you this day, but that I told them she was to take her Phisick, soe they say they will come to-morrow. I finde it held absolutly necessary she should not bee alone with servants, espetially such as yours, that make the country ring of them.'

Sept 26, Three days later his son wrote to Mr. Gael, ' My

1 cf?q

wife (I thank the Lord) is in very good health every way, & hath already quite left off taking Physick. The Woman is to be gone this weeke, so that now she must be a right house-keeper ; & truly (though I say it) I beleeve shee will performe it passing well, for she hath an excellent judgement in the doing of any thing when she is pleased to set her mind to it, which she now begins to do.

Dec. 8, Mary's improved health was not without relapses ;

her husband describes her in the beginning of De- cember as ' toujours fantasque.' ' Mun,' writes Sir Ealph, 'I am unwilling you should be soe much alone tis ill both for your Wife & yourselfe too. I am glad the Eogues got not to your Horses you must let Gutridg lie over the Stable. I could now get you

IN CHANCERY LANE 73

a furious MastifFe, but tis little and indeed too furious, espetially for you that dwell in a Towne & soe neare the Highway, for this even in the day time will let non come to the House, & had you such a Curr, I would never come to your House, having knowne soe much Mischief e donn by them/ A little yealping Dogg that were watchfull & angry were much more usefull to you, for the Eogues have tricks to quiet Mastiffs, but non can quiet these little Barking currs.'

6 To deale freely with you,' he writes a few days later, ' I shall not send you a Furious curst MastifFe, God knows there is too much of that already. . . . But to be more searious, I am hartily sorry to heare your wife hath been ill of Late, I pray humour her all you can till this publique time is over. God blesse & direct you.'

Edmund was inquiring for a responsible person who could wait upon his wife, and keep up some discipline in a household that sadly needed it. Mary had seen and liked a certain Mistress Felton, but the latter made so many stipulations about her salary of 12£., about the chambermaid that was to work under her, and other matters, that Edmund was not very anxious to have her. Mrs. Felton was not free till the spring, and he specially desired that Mary should be saved fatigue during the Christmas season, when they hoped to celebrate their return home by a series of entertainments to their neigh- bours.

During the summer of 1663, Mary Eure had

74 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

suddenly abandoned her Elizabethan attitude, and given her heart and hand to a Yorkshire squire, William Palmes. Her best friends knew nothing of it, 'My marriage/ as she afterwards wrote to Sir Kalph, c being for some reasons concealed from almost all my relations.' She had now engaged her old friend Luce Sheppard, to come to her for an expected confinement, and Edmund, who had not forgotten Luce in preparing his Christmas presents, tried to get her to help his wife, before she should be needed by 6 Cousin Palmes ' in February. Luce was engaged till the New Year, when she hoped to ' ogment his trouble ' by coming to wait on him and his lady. Another possible lady housekeeper was the widow of a Mr. Major, with 40Z. a year of her own, between 40 and 50 years of age, the daughter of a Mr. Crisp, whose house she used to manage ; ' so she has had experience, and is as well educated, and as well-born, but less necessitous than Mistress Felton.' Sir Ealph writes, 'I do not know Mrs. Major, but I beleeve her to bee very honest & modest, because all the Brood have been soe. But I must tell you many of them are very slow, & (as we call them) softly persons, & being behinde hand in the world, have not had any Breeding, & if this bee soe she cannot bee fit for your purpose.'

Edmund asks Sir Ealph's help in organising his entertainments : Michel Durand has become head cook. c J'ai 1'intention de commencer mes festins le Mardi apres le jour de Noell, c'est pourquoy s'il vous plaist

IN CHANCERY LANE 75

d'espargner vostre cuisinier je 1'useray ce jour la, et le jeudi apres et le lundi apres cela, mais si vous ne peuvez pas a cause de vostre beuf que vous devez tuer j'attenderay vostre loisir . . . car Micho me dit qu'il sera 2 ou 3 jours a travailler sur vostre bceuf.'

Sir Ealph entered heartily into their hospitable Dee. 22,, plans. ' Sir Eichard Temple tells mee the newes at Buckingham is, that you will keepe the best Christmas in the Sheire, & to that end have bought more frute and spice then halfe the Porters in London can weigh out in a day. I have writ to tell the Cooke that hee shall doe my businesse about the Beefe at such times as you can most conveniently spare him from East Claydon ; and soe hee ma^ very well, for hee hath nothing to doe for mee but to make 2 collars of Beefe, & bake some in Potts. I am very glad to heare your Wife is so well, I pray remember mee to her, & tell her I wish her a Merry Christmas.' Plaistow the carrier expects a Christmas Box of 10s. for the delivery of letters, which is what he receives at Claydon House. Sir Ealph is anxious that his dogs should go to Sir John Busby to be trained, but Sir John does not think the season favourable. 'For Gamboy and Fleury if they are not entered they will be spoyled, for when they are too old they will not enter so well, & bee so easily corrected for theire faults ; you know tis soe with children, & if Sir John Busby bee unwilling, let mee know it, never presse him, for I can send them where they shall be welcome. I pray tell me how Mary-gold lookes.' 'You see

76 VEKNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

what a poore case Sir John Busby had made of Mopsey,' he writes again; 'she looked like one of Pharoah's Leane Kine ; on the other side, you keepe them soe fat, that they will burst themselves with running.' The dogs are to be ' constantly hunted/ ' I had much rather you should see it donn, then any man in England, for tis both a healthfull & a gentle- man like exercise, my deare Father loved it hartily.'

' Touchant Chiens,' Edmund replies, ' dont deux (c'est a dire) Luther et Calvin sont aussi mechans que ces Arche-Heretiques desquels ils portent les noms, car comme iceux il ne cherchent pas le vrai butin de leur recompence, car ils tuent les innocens Brebis, mais principalement ce vaut-rien Calvin.

Sir Ealph orders that if the c Whelps meddle with Sheepe, they must be tied to any Dead Sheepe, and whipped soundly, but not beaten with Stickes ; tis theire mettle that makes them doe, and such a fault as must bee corrected, and in time too, or else they will be spoyled. I pray let it bee carefully donn.'

He is getting Mun some mulberry trees ; of Mr. Ball of Brentford End,' ; they love a moist ground & will thrive best in it.'

The country is surprised to hear of the ' monstrous sum ' of 2,500,000/., granted to the King. Edmund thinks that we might conquer Holland with half that money, 'nous entendons que vous envoyez du Venaison pour conforter les cceursde nos compatriots.' Dec. 25, Sir Ealph explains that ' the 2,500,000/. will be raysed by a Land Tax at 70,000/. a month for 3 yeares, &

IN CHANCERY LANE 77

offices must pay. But the Bill is not yet neare perfected soe wee know not what other clauses will be added. Buckinghamshire is raised about 371. per mensem ; Middlesex is raised 900/. per mensem ; & London abated as much. Divers other Counties are either abated or raised as the Souse thought fit. I never had so ill venison in all my life — one of them is so very bad it will not serve my turne, tis not a warrantable Doe. ... I have not killed any this season, & this discourages me soe much that I will lessen the stock of Deere, & keep other Cattle amongst them, that will yeeld more profit though lesse pleasure. I am very much joyed to heare your Wife is soe well . . . desire her to be thankful to heaven & careful of her Diet/ A postscript contained the bitter news which had just reached London. 'The Dutch have beat us out of Cape Verde at Guiny, taken the Marchant Shipps, put our men to the sword for resisting them. De Euiter did it with his Fleet, & tis feared hee will do us mighty mischeifes in the str eights.'

The Puritans might put down roast beef and mince pies, and the time-honoured festivities of this season, but naval defeats were not wont to be part of the Christmas fare which they provided for England. Edmund, whose hearty dislike of the Dutch was founded on his intimate personal ac- quaintance with them, was most indignant, and thought that our reverses in Guinea might have been foreseen and prevented, ' rnais cela estant fait, si

78 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

Dec. 26, j'estois digne de conseiller le Roy, je voudrois tascher

i 06^

par tous les moyens du Monde a me venger sur De Enter, avant son retour ; est je ne lui voudrois point donner Cartier, ni a aucun autre Hollandois en aucun lieu de I'Univers . . . et pour moy je suis content de me vendre jusques a la chemise, et puis d'aller en Personne pour punir ces villains de Beige.'

Edmund Denton's widow is ill and something in Mary's condition of mental distress ; Dr. Denton has been frightened out of 4 of his 5 senses at a report that her mother Lady Eogers ' who is no better than a Quaker,' is planning a marriage for her with a man 'of noe fortune & of as froward a humour as one would wish . . . the children would be undone as to breeding . . . this is of great concern to the family.' The calamity seems to have been averted, and the children were made wards in chancery. The poor young widow died the following June, 'rather a \ happiness for her family than a loss.'

Dec. 26, Edmund Verney wishes Alexander Denton ' here

to Xmasse with us, & we would be merrier yet, & shew marveillous Gamball trickes.' Meanwhile the festive preparations were being hurried on ; the presence of the Claydon cook ensured the success of the joints and the Plum Porridge ; but the drink caused Edmund some anxiety. He nattered himself that he had brewed a good store of strong ale, but he had no common white wine, and his best claret was too good for the occasion ; ' trop genereux pour Paisanterie, en sorte que si je scavois ou achetter un

IN CHANCERY LANE 79

peu de vin de France, a fort bon marche (je ne me souci gueres de la bonte), je 1'espanderois ce Noell parmy mes Villains.' Sir Ealph believes that he may get ' Claret of 6 pence a quart ... & good enough for the use you intend it, and twere pitty to cast away better in that way . . ; I will look out some for you . . . twill be ready enough to drinke in two dayes for it shall have no Lees, & you may draw it out of the Eunlet without Bottleing it, if you have no time to bottle it.'

Before the wine arrives, this unthrifty host dis- covers that he does not require it, because the best claret will not keep, and may as well be finished; later he is glad of it again, when the strong ale proves to be no better than it should be.

Mary sends loving messages to Sir Ealph, desiring his blessing, and rejoicing in the prospect of his speedy return to Claydon, where his presence will add to all their Christmas joy.

Her East Claydon tenants were feasted on the 27th, Middle Claydon tenants on another day, and their third and last entertainment was given to 50 of their poorer neighbours with their wives and children.

Wine and ale, good, bad and indifferent, flowed in streams ; Edmund reported that the 6d claret had served its purpose well ; ' il plaist les gueulles de ces gens, et aide aussi a les enivrer, mais pour mon gout il n'est guere plaisant.'

' Mun, I presume you have ended your Christmas,' Jan. 5, writes Sir Ealph on the 5th of January, £ and I hope

80 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

you have not found the charge extraordinary ; I dare say a journey either to London or to Oxford for that time would have been much dearer & lesse to your credit. I am heartily glad my Daughter is soe well, I pray you remember me very kindly to her, & desire her to take noe Phisick whilst the Frost holds, but I hope when that's over she will take a little for a day or two, to carry away the reliques of the Plumbe Pyes and Plumbe Porage. I am glad Luce Shepherd comes to keepe her company for she is too much alone.' He had paid civil visits in town to Mary's uncles, Mr. Gael, and Sir Eobert Wise- man.

Jan. 9, Mun writes on the 9th, ' J'ai a cette heure fini

mes festins de Noel, mais . . . avec trop grands depens. car cela m'a couste proche 100/., c'est a dire j'ai despendu 80 livres, la quelle somme est trop pour moi a jetter comme cela, si par la bonte de Dieu je vis jusques & un autre Noel je ne despenderai tant.'

The chief local news is that Edward Challoner has bought Steeple Claydon from his cousin. ' II a tenu une Court la dejk en son propre nom, et ce matin il s'en est alle vers Gisborough en Yorkshire. La Veuve Busby doit laisser Addington bien tost pour tout de bon.' She is ' much troubled by disputes with her son.' Mistress Abigail was the widow of Eobert Busby (Sir Ealph's legal adviser at the time of his sequestra- tion) and daughter of Sir John Gore, knight and alderman of London. She came of a strong-willed family, her husband stood in considerable awe of her,

IN CHANCERY LANE 81

her younger brother Dick defied the authority of the redoubtable pedagogue at Westminster school, who was his god-father as well as his master, till Dr. Busby ' was a- weary of slashing him.'

Her son, Sir John Busby, Kt., had married Mary Dormer in November 1662, arid it was not surprising that after two years' experience of her mother-in-law's rule, the young Lady Busby should wish to be mistress at Adding ton.

Squire Duncombe's betrothed, whom he had courted so fervently, died of a fever. He also caught it, but having recovered, consoled himself with another Miss Busby, of Hogston, a Eoman Catholic ; they were married in April, and Sir Ealph's cook dressed their wedding dinner. Miss Butterfield was staying at the White House, and the whole party dined with the Duncombes to meet the Busbys of Addington. e We keep good fires at Claydon, but none like Squire Duncombe's,' said Mr. Butterfield, and Mun writes of the dinner : — ' On dit qu'il a achete tous les perdris, becasses, becassines et autres volailles de cette Province pour nous entretenir.' The hospitable Squire had lately borrowed 1,0 OO/. of Mrs. Abell and Sir Eobert Wiseman.

Sir Ealph writes, ' I am glad your troublesome & Jan. 12,

1 />/»/*

chargeable time is over, but you are certainly much out of your account, for it could not cost you halfe soe much as you speake of, you making but 3 Invitations & haveing noe Fiddles to draw other company. Dr. Townsend writ word you entertained

VOL. IV. G

82 VEENEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

him & Nat Smith very hansomly; and now Uncle Dr. is in the Country you had best goe visit him & get him dine with you.'

Jan. 16, Edmund replies, ' Mon tres cher pere, Vous

doubtez si mes despens ce Noel peuvent avenir a une telle grande somme, mais sur serieuse consideration d'iceux, il faut que je vous responde (comme les Hollandois font a ceux qui questionent leur compte, contans plus qu'il n'estoit auparavant) que je crois certes qu'il m'a couste plustost proche de 90Z. que 80Z. Nous n'avons pas manque musique seulement, mais aussi nous avons eu Dan9eurs qu'on appelle Morice ; et tout cela je ne pouvois remedier pour cette fois.'

Edmund's lavish hospitality had reinstated him in the good opinion of his neighbours ; he had been able to increase his estate by one or two judicious purchases, he was at length settling down in his own home, with some prospect of domestic happiness, and as Cousin Jack Fust expressed it, ' you must needs be my Lord of East, West, North and South Claydon.'

83

CHAPTER III. sm RALPH'S RELATIONS.

1661-1665. ' My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.'

THE Eestoration suited Colonel Henry Verney exactly ; the world was fit once more for a gentleman to live in. He talked valiantly at first of military service, and of commanding ' Viscount Mordaunt's regiment of foot at Windsor/ but hearing that he would be employed in a lower rank than he had held during the Civil War, he found this incompatible with his dignity, and did not press the point. Sir Ralph considers that ' these punctillios are not to be stood uppon by younger brothers, especially at this time when soe very many persons of worth and honour doe rather chuze to take what they can get, then be left out of all imployment,' but he will not offer to advise him.

My Lord of Peterborough and Henry's other noble patrons were in high offices, his father's name was constantly in his mouth. He was magnificent in his offers to procure a peerage for his brother and a baronetage for Dr. Denton, a commission for himself being of course included in the required fees.

62

84 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

cHe thinks of nothing but an Irish Viscount, the usual price it seems is £2500, if you will not give him £250 per an. for his life he will take £200/ Unhappily, his relatives were only moved to merri- ment by the prospect of such honours ; but he was more successful in ingratiating himself at Court. His knowledge of horses and dogs, and his keen sporting instincts, ensured him a welcome from the King at Newmarket and other races, he was well known also to the Duke and Duchess of York. Lord Clarendon's affectionate intimacy with Sir Edmund Verney led him to be kind to his sons, and our old friend William Gape, the apothecary and his wife were in attendance upon the Duke and Duchess Anne. Eventually Henry claims a share ' in the moneys given by Act of ParP amongst the truly loyal & indigent officers ; ' he certifies that he was 'a Lieut. Coll. to Sir Humphrey Bennett's Beg* of Horse, hath had a reall command of souldiers according to his commission ; that he hath never deserted his Majties or his blessed Father's service during the late times of Eebellion and Usurpation, & that he hath not a sufficient livelyhood of his own.'

The 'truly loyal & indigent gentlemen' were so many that Henry fared no better than many a nobler Cavalier, but to be loyal and indigent was at least a passport to the best society.

Penelope, whose letters bristle with great names, writes to Sir Ealph of the marriage of Charles Stuart,

SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS 85

Duke of Bichmond, to his second wife Margaret Banastre, widow of William Lewis. ' Upon Monday last the Duke was married, upon Tuesday he went out of town & his Duchess for Blechinton, upon Thursday the Duke & my Bro. Harry that went out of town with his Grace, are for Eoehamton, the plate is to be run for that day, the Duke puts in for it but tis thought the Duke's horse will lose the match, Bro. H. has betted on the Duke's hors. . . . The Duke was pleased to do my Bro. Harry the honor as to bid him com to his weding, that was carried so privitly that no other parson was invited ; but Bro. Harry was so very ill that morning that he could not Attend his honor, att diner time he went to the Duke's own lodging for there he dined very privit, Bro. Harry was so ill that he ris from diner and came home and att night he went agane to attend the Duke att the Duke's lodging, but still kept himself fasting only eating a mess of broth .... he is still ill but if he dos hear of a rase that is to be Eun, that will carry him all the world over.'

In June Henry is looking after his young horses June 9, at Clay don, whence Mr. Butterfield writes to Mun : — * Had you seen or heard how Mr. H. V. & Mr. Jo. Eisley cheated one the other in the exchange of two admirable jades, with what craft & confidence it was carryed, twould make you intermit a little of your serious thoughts to take a laugh.' Henry is Dec. 3, engaged at Christmas time ' to ride with the Duke in l person the 6 mile course at Newmarket with a

86 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

Nagg of his called Shoulders/ and he is a well-known figure at the various county race-meetings. Oct. 29, In October 1663, Penelope's husband, John

i Denton, died suddenly in London. Gary writes to Sir Ealph, ' I beleve the nuw widdows grife is over before you could come to comfort her. I wish no greater grife may ever come to you or my selfe then that was to Hary & her, and then I am shur wee may well bar it.' ' She is not lik to breack her hart except it bee with joy,' writes Lady Hobart, and Dr. Denton adds, ' You ought to have come thro' thick & thin to have comforted your most con- solable sister.' The kind-hearted Mun does his best to regret him. 'Alas my uncle John Denton is "N dead, I am sorry for't, that's more than some are, altho' he should be of a greater consequence me- thinkes to them by farr.' Sir Ealph's words to the widow check our uncharitable reflections upon the poor, drunken, boorish Squire. 'And now hee is dead, I shall say nothing of him, nor will you I hope either doe or say more then is decent in such a case ; for tho' you have been unhappy in him, yet hee was a Gentleman & your Husband, & twill bee your Honour to conceale his faults. . . . God grant you may make a right use of this deliverance & fit us all for Heaven.' Pen's lady friends remark that c she has put herself into very handsome mourning, but that she cannot keep within.'

In spite of some plain speaking to her brother, Pen had been a patient and forbearing wife. In the

SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS 87

worst of her troubles she could truly say, ' Had he loved me but near so well as I did, or doe yet love him, the thinges had nevor com to whot they are.'

There had been occasional tiffs between Pen and Henry, he would torment her for loans to be repaid 6 when he won his horse-mach ; ' but they were at heart the best of friends. On John Denton's death they set up house in London together, c Harry had never been so full of joy,' and Pen, though she called him an old fool, rejoiced in c his good company ' and in her family nickname of ' Harry's Dame.' He would ride down to the races at Quainton, Brackley, and Banstead, or to a cock-fighting at Northamp- ton, bring back his gains to Pen, or explain away his losses, and abuse the town, ' where my stay is- like to be but short, for foote it in the dust I cannot, & coach-hire is too dear for my purse.'

All their friends gamble in various ways : ' Mrs. Drake's sister has just gott the best lott in the lottery, the richest sute of hangings there : the King offered more than a 1,000£ for them, this she had / for her 1(M.'

There was no love lost between Penelope and the Dentons, and Nancy writes to Sir Ealph the fol- lowing year : — ' I know that newes is very axceptabil to pepeol in the cuntry and I have wondarfull newes now, your Dearly beloved sis Denton is like to chous Hary and to marry. It is to one Mr. Wilcocks a Gentelman of Bray ; he keps his coch, and he is as propar a man as her Esqre. was, but not altogathar

88 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

so handsom and altho' he has a very good reput yet I think he has no more wit then my Lord Jhon if he maris her. He was beloe stars in our hous, and I rund hard & did see him, but Hary has this day caried her out of town down to Stoe. This sarves us for merth very well. Shur if he dus take her he never looked out of the right cornor of his eye, I beleve she has great store of good con- disions, for she nevar maid show of any in her life, she has horded them up with her money.'

July 2, Henry's letters to Sir Ealph are full of minute

directions about his horses, they are to have 'the very best grass at Claydon, these are my choicest horses and I dare not trust them for my nephew's usage, nor with noe friend but you. They are as good as can drive in a coach, and as fit for my saddell, and the only horses I have to trust to for Newmarket. The grey's feete are soe badd that noe smith can shoe him without laming him or else I had not putt him to grass. Good brother be careful of them.'

July 13, Sir Ealph has them ' fleeted in very good grasse at Knowle Hill, Tom King the shepherd is very careful of them, and removes them constantly, but such poor lame Jades in such a surfeited condition will not bee fat in hast.' But the Colonel is far from being satisfied, he will not have his horses tethered. c Good Brother . . . the worst grass you had had in your lordshipp would a binn better for them att liberty, for your own reason must needs tell you to have surfeited and lame horses tied to a stake, bast-

SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS 89

ing all day in the sunn, cannot bee good for their health. Tis the night's due, scope, fresh water and liberty that must cuer them, it may bee you did conclude them to bee as disorderly as their master, and soe confined them without try all.'

The long-suffering Sir Ealph agrees to send the greys to another ground, the pasture is far worse, * but if they will not rest quietly there, rather than suffer them to lead my horses up and down the country (hedges are few and far between) they must be tied againe.' They are to be blooded at intervals of three or four months (even the horses cannot escape the thirst of the age for bleeding), after which they are ' to be corned something more than ordinarie,' to be ready when Henry desires c to ramble amongst his friends.' He confesses that thanks to Sir Ealph's ' kindness and Mr. W. Tomes' care,' his horses do look very well, he has left them to Sir Ealph's 'good entertainment longer than ordinarie, it was the king's fault and not mine.' ' I saw 3 good matches at Newmarket wch pleased the king well, but not my worshippe, for I gott no money by them more then my charges. My Ld Lovelass lost 600Z. of his horse, Mr. Elliot won 400Z. of his, & my Ld Sherard near 300/. of his nagg.'

Margaret Elmes was having a hard time of it with her cross-grained husband, the small allowance he had given her when they separated was often in arrears, and it was only when Sir Ealph threatened / legal proceedings that Sir Thomas would ' protest

90 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

upon the word of a gentleman/ that he wished to do all that was fair and honourable, and he would deliver Sir Ealph a lecture which he dared not write to his wife, about the prudence and discretion needed

Dec.is, in 'her carriage in the world.' 'As things are with her now, a private life is most for her repute and humiliation, rather than her going to this person and that person, to no purpose to herself but to be /laughed behind her back.' He will settle her join- ture as soon as his debts are paid to ' Cousin Knightly ; ' he assures Sir Ealph that there is no hurry, as he never was in better health in his life. ' Elmes is going to fast & pray & soe cannot write to you/ says Uncle Doctor. Matters are not much more advanced at the end of another year. The delay

Sept. 16, is now caused by c my cousin Humphry Elmes his death, the old gentleman you see at my chamber^ I having been to Henley to see him interred & am just now come up to towne. I have written a kind letter to your sister. . . . were her heart & mine, as yours & mine are in principle it were far better for her. I know I need not write to you to say nothing to the women for you know how captious generally they are. I meane only for your sister's good . . . had I matched into another family I should have been more valewed.' His wife's relations were certainly lacking in appreciation, and Dr. Denton pronounced him to be * the greatest tyrant in the world.'

Peg naturally wanted something more substantial

SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS 91

than the smothering of her complaints, and Sir Ealph had to write in a severe strain to his brother- in-law : — c Haveinge had soe many Yeares Patience, more then (as a Trustee) I could well answer.' He finds it almost impossible ' to keep them quiet for both of them are colerick & high enough, & have noe great fondness for one another.' Peg, indeed, had freely expressed her opinion, that the life she would lead with him ' is worse than keeping of hogs,' without even the alternative open to the prodigal of returning to his father's house.

The unwearied peacemaker, however, got the husband and wife to meet at Claydon in October with such good effect, that old Aunt Abercromby writing out of her bed (peremptorily to desire Sir Ealph to send her a fat goose ' for All Holland-day, lest wanting that, she should want money all the year ') congratulates Nephew Elmes on his ' re-nuptials.'

Peg feels that due thanks to Sir Ealph are Oct. 20, beyond her reach, but her second honeymoon did not open smoothly. c The disasters in our jorney to London were soe many & soe great that I know you wolde a laughed sovfitiantly att me, had you but seen them. Our horses tiored as soone as we came out of Chalfont, for theare was noe fresh ones to be had, it was neare eight a clock befoare we got to Lester Hous corner, when we ware in all that fine puddle, we had like to a binn over turned but escaped it, by haveing the coach helde up, while we a lighted in that cleane plaise, & when we ware

92 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

out, the coachman made shift to drive his coache into sich a plaise as he could not pas through for postes, nether could he put back again, soe we ware forsed to wolke from that Plaise to Covent Garden a fott, & not onely soe, but to take out all that was had in the coache, a longe with us for the coach was likely to stand in the feildes all night. My brother Harry was with us, but the Squir & Martin were gon home a horsback. Hary was loaded like a porter betweene his own things & his dame's.'

They fared better than did some travellers driving on a wintry night. Another letter mentions that ' a hackney coach & horses & a gentleman in it, went back into Fleet Ditch (there were no rails) & was either drowned or smothered in the mud.'

Margaret Elmes was a clever housekeeper, 'Madam Spye-fault,' the doctor called her, which sounds like a character in ' Pilgrim's Progress,' and Sir Ealph often applied to her in domestic perplexities. His pewter vessels are not to his liking. ' For your plaites,' she writes, ' if they are well washed every mealle with woater and brann, soe hott as theare hands can indewar it, and then well rinsed in faire woater, and soe sett one by one, befoare the fire, as they may dry quick, I am confydent they will dry with out spots, for I never knew any sawce staine soe except it bee pickled rabbets, which stand up on the plait a pretty while, soe they will stoaine them

SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS 93

fillthyly . . . this is all the scill I have, which I have set downe att large.' She has made him lemon cakes which he likes, when he has a cold.

The Elmes have been at Claydon again in the winter of 1664-5 and returned with Sir Ealph to London, when Sir Thomas caused quite a commotion by his lamentations over the loss of an c heirloom,' described as ' a Dial of Glass with a Fly in it,' which had belonged to his family for years and years ; he felt sure that his wife had taken this precious treasure to Claydon to hang up in her window, and had left it behind there.

Lady Elmes disclaimed all knowledge of it, but Mun Verney, on receiving his father's commands, went down with a party from East Claydon, and calling upon Mr. Butterfield to bear witness to their exertions, the young people made merry in the old house, going from one empty bedroom to another, finding nothing at all, till in the Orange Chamber Mun exclaimed that he saw ' something like to Flye ; ' there was an imprisoned Owl in the window lately dead. Amid shouts of laughter, the bird was very carefully packed up in many wrappings, and sent off to Sir Thomas Elmes by Carrier, specially addressed 6 to be conveyed to him with great care and speede,' with a mocking letter in which Mun explained that this was all they could find to answer the description of his heirloom, * I know not what you call it at Greens Norton but here at Claydon wee call it Owle. Sir I killed lately just such another sitting on an

94 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

Elme, whereby I conjecture there is much sympathy between them,' &c. &c. Unhappily for the success of the jest, Sir Ealph intercepted the parcel, which he thought of suspicious bulk and softness, with the folio sheet of banter, and paid the carrier. ' He is a strange man,' he writes to Mun, ' & his hatred to his Wife makes him doe many of these simple things. Certainly hee thinks hee saw a Diall at Claydon, or else hee could not have invented it, but I never remember anything like it in my House.'

Sir Ealph writes to congratulate his sister when her jointure is settled, with a sly hit at her love of London.

' Madame Margery, — Eich, Eich, Eich, now your money is come, but if you are soe simple as to spend it, you shall bee caled by your Old Name, Poore, Silly, Lowsy Megg againe. This very day it came. . . . But I can tell you, that with your money, I had a letter, such a letter, that you will thinke it a good bargayne to give me halfe your Wealth to let you read it, & though my Answere to it is little worth, Yet I know you will bee soe Noble as to give me Two pence for the sight of it. Enough of this till we meet. My Cozen Dorothy Denton is very well (at Hillesden) and Lives, and Lookes (and I am confident Thrives) as well as if she were at London. Mee thinke I heare you sweare this is a Loud Ly, And you will not beleeve it.'

Lady Elmes is quite capable of a retort. ' If we live to meete it is posable I may punish you for the

SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS 96

stile of Maddam Megg, I see it is not good to be to longe from London, the cuntory teaching you sich oulde clownish names, not fitt for sich a spruse widower as yr selfe to name. It is Enuffe to hinder the yonge bewtis from woing you, which I know will grieve you much. The incivilities I re- ceive from Sir Thomas makes me to be all most reconsiled to the name which foremerly I was not very fond of.'

Gary Gardiner still leads as busy a home life as 'souch a train of babs' must entail; good John Stewkeley is proud to see the old nursery filled a second time. ' Here are many white aprons that have long strings,' he writes to Sir Ealph of his five baby girls, ' & lusty armes that will pull hard.' His eldest son Will was at ' Winton Col- lege,' but the sudden death of Mr. May his tutor there in 1657, caused Mr. Stewkeley to send for him home ; he then placed him in London at Dr. Sterne's ' private academy with some ten gentlemen more.' During the Protectorate * that intelligence given of Oxford by severall freinds that have made a strict inquiry, diverted his father from sending him thither.' At twenty-two he is a worthless beau ; Gary talks him over with Brother Stewkeley, 'who is very good to her, though hee will sometimes lett us understand hee is lord over us. 1 truly love him very much for his care of my children . . . hee & we are both much trobled what will be- come of Will Stewkeley, who lives above what his

96 VERNE Y FAMILY FEOM THE RESTORATION

father hathe for himselfe & all the rest ; as great A gamster as my brother Hary & as great a rake, & I am confident the sotillest young man in the world, but not the best natured. He is now desirous to by a Court place, so that is next to be sout for, but his mind is so wavouring that I think hee will setill to nothing. Wee A low him 60£. a yeare, besides my brother's 10/., & he hath lived on us most of this yeare him selfe, & latly hath taken a man unknown to his father, as all his actions are, & kept 2 horses constantly. I find him a great burden, and I am afrad my brother should work on my husband to let him live thus, or elc to increas his A lowance which hee is not a bill to due without predigisin all the rest.'

Miss Ursula has not obliged her stepmother by marrying, though she is much in company. ' Tis not my patienc only as they all make havock of, for my brother who I think hath some tye on them, crys out most shamfully on them ; alas you only know the best of them,' Gary tells Sir Ealph, ' they differ so much from ther father as if he had no relation to them ; bot tis none of them can make us unhappy to each other, though ther wayes lessens our Joys yet not our affections, which are absolutely fixed in each other which is amonst all my grifs the reallest comfort as can come to me.'

Gary has taken her own daughter Peg to Dau- beney Turberville, an oculist at c Crick Kerne,' who promises 'to butify her left eye,' but having seen

96 VEKNEY FAMILY FR: [ON

father bathe for himselfe & all the rest ; as great A gamster as my brother Hary & as great a rake, & I am confident the sotillest young man in the world, but not the best na.tured. He is now desirous to by -a Court place, so that is next to be sout for, but his mind 'is so wavouring that T hee will set ill : Wee A low hi

year on h taker

.

brother bus,

e is not a bill t<

stepmother by

inarr < ompany. ' Tis

not m} make havoc]*:

jr rny tye on

them, ci

only know , Carv tells Sir Ralph,

' they differ i ther father as if ht

no relation none of them can

make us unhappy to each other, though ther wayes lessens our Joys yet not our affections, which are absolutely fixed in each other which is amonst all my grifs the reallest comfort as can come to me.'

Gary ' -.on her own daughter Peg to I>

beney Turberville, promises 'to butify her left .seen

///> • /K'Matote-n, <^*sJMac&<m

S

SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS 97

her he reports it ' to be incurable & their judg- ments all to be false, that have spent about her, I have hopes strong of her right Eye which labours with four diseases, ill Eyelidds, & falling away of the haire, a spott on the pupill, & a corrupt fistula in the Corner of her Eye towards her nose. ... I doubt not to save her Eye if you please to give mee time, I shall leave the gratification to your selfe, & my endeavours shall bee as nimble as possible.' He is to begin with * an incision betweene her eye & nose to be kept open eight or ten weekes,' but he adds ' I shall not in all this time much torture her.' Peg underwent the oculist's treatment with c much resolution & patienc.' Gary hears ' a good report of him & his birth is very good which maks mee belive hee will perform what he promised.' Peg is always under treatment ; after this she consults ' a mounty bank,' and bears her present darkness with hopes of sight,' because she is assured that Prince Eupert gives him a good character.

Gary's boy is at school at his uncle's charge, she has her anxieties about Jack's looks, 'sickness & want of hare are two great blemishes, but I hope time & helth will renuw his favour A gaine, & should I take him homb his littill larning would sure be lost, which would be an inevetabill ruing to him.' Brother Stewkeley's ' humor is to love chang which is the undoing of boys & my boy loves the place very well wher he is, which I commend in him ; my brother's humors & extravagant exprestions I have

VOL. IV. H

98 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

to sadly felt, but I must smother thim all for my children's good/

Betty and Mr. Adams were still looking out — Mar. 25, ' Could you but get us A good parsinag I am con-

1663

fident I should live cumfortabielley.' When real troubles failed, which was seldom, Betty had quite a craze for inventing them. Before the birth of her first child she was particularly ingenious ; she had secured Sir Ealph as godfather, and she wrote to conjure him to protect her hapless infant, as she foresaw her own death, her husband's second mar- riage, and the child's sufferings from a cruel step- mother. Sir Ealph declined to pledge himself till the crisis arrived, but he got Peg Elmes to choose some ' Childes Clowtes,' and when the boy had been christened Betty thanks him for a c silver sugar box & coddel cup.' This child died, and Betty never gave the cruel stepmother a chance, for she survived her husband many years, having brought him a large family of daughters.

Brother Tom is not to be ignored in this review of the family fortunes, though every member of it June 19, would gladly have forgotten him if possible. ' There are severall epitaphs,' he writes to Sir Ealph, ' that belong to the word brother' (anticipating by more than a century Mrs. Malaprop's ' nice derangement'), ' as good, deare, honred or the like, and in another (which in some may prove the more proper) sense, unkind, unnatureall or the like. Such strainge and unbeseeming titles I forbeare to stile you with,

SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS 99

though (haply) I have just cause for it.' That there may be no doubt that the right epithets should be applied to himself he winds up his begging letter by subscribing himself, ' Sweet Brother, Yours most cordially to serve you whilst he is

THO : VERNEY.'

When he has tired out Sir Ealph he approaches Edmund : ' Sir, Kings and Princes in time of need prayeth ayd of their Allies, therefore I conceive it noe dishonour to mee to crave a supply from my relations. Sir, poverty to mee att this instant is as great an enimy as the Turk is to the Emperor of Germany, and doth dayly get advantages of mee. I have (by sever all embassies) treated with my brother, who hath promised mee succour but not sufficient to oppose soe powerfull an enimy, which prompts mee to pray your assistance in some handsome manner, that I may be the better strengthened to encounter my approaching foe and abide him battaile.' It might have gone hardly with the Turks, if the Emperor had had Tom's ready wit and fertility of resource.

In '62 he intends going with the Earl of Windsor to Jamaica, in '63 he is developing ' a potash work,' the next spring he turns up in Ireland, and writes from Bandon Bridge to refute * some Mar. 26 scandal that was fomented against mee in my absence. ... I would stop all clamorous reports if possibly I could, yet letters may miscarry, I am not within 35 miles of any post-town, besides the

H 2

100 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

casualty of the sea is to be considered. A friend hath undertaken the conveyance of this to London, that hath correspondency in Cornwall & doth weekly return thither or to Plymouth, hides, tallow & the like.' Soon after this there is ' a flying /report that Tom is gone for France,' Mrs. Tom c is in want enough/ and intends to send the baby, born after his departure, ' eyther to the parish att Bris- tol or to Sir Ealph.' The poor woman comes to see him at Lady Hobart's, and tells him how much she had been c injured & abused by her husband already ; he hath gotten her portion, & so hath made her utterly unable to help the child or feed herself, having nothing but what her own friends in charity bestow upon her.' These friends press Sir Ealph to pay half Tom's annuity direct to his wife, but he has sold this annuity in advance to Sir John Colladon, of the parish of St. Paul's, Covent Garden, who is also clamouring for payment. Sir s Ealph can only desire Tom to take measures ' that hee may rest quiet from these importunities.' Tom May 31, ig tragically indignant and surprised. ' Sir — had I been the worst of brothers, you could not have more estrainged your affections from mee, give mee (I beseech you) a little liberty to argue the case with you. Sir, is my concealment occasioned by or for reason of any treason, murder or fellony committed against his majesty, or any of his liege people ? You cannot but judge me innocent. Was I the first that left my native being for debt ? I beleeve I am not,

SIE KALPH'S KELATIONS 101

& I am almost confident I shall not be the last. Truly I am not in love with a prison, neither dare I trust the conscience of any man since brother & brother are growne soe cruell one to another. I hope I shall have noe caus to putt your name in the Eole of Unkind Brothers.'

He desires Sir Ealph on no account to pay Colladon any money, but in the closely written sheet there is not an allusion to his miserable wife and baby, and in June ' it hath pleased God to take away v the childe.' Tom's comment on the news is, that he June 24, cannot be compelled to give his wife any of his allowance without ' a long & chargeable sute in Chancery, but I am not easily to be found, & death may take away the one as it hath done the other, before I make a returne homewards, I pray forbeare speak- ing or writeing to mee concerning the party in any of your letters.' No forbearance can be looked for / from Dr. Colladon, whom Tom has treated ' soe very unhandsomely that he has thereby much en- raged him.' Sir Ealph cannot bear to be classed, even by Tom, in a Eoll of Unkind Brothers, and continues to help him through Mr. Fowke, whom he thanks for his c many troubles about this unhappy brother of mine.' Tom, on receiving an addition to his quarterage, sends him thanks c in number numberless,' and quotes Tacitus c who in his life of Otho sayd, There is not any one thing which persons of courage and quality doe suffer with more regret than that of poverty ; ' had he been blessed with an

102 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

estate he would not have slept, till he had repaid all Sir Ealph's benefits. ' Could you but imagine how infinitely I am abused by one that I am in- formed is a dayly disturber of your quiet, you would rather afford me your pity then your frowne.' July 10, c My services to you and yours wishing you all

health and happiness, as for any other of my relations let them be as they are :

' When cloudy stormes are gone and past, Then crums of comfort come att last.'

Tom finds his own peculiar c crums of comfort ' during the Great Plague in the chance ' that it may happily touch his chief creditor Colladon, before it yet leaveth.'

Eliza Verney's letters to Sir Ealph are eminently gentle and reasonable ; she has exhausted all her own resources and the help given her by 'her uncle Sir Yerney Noell ; ' she entreats Sir Ealph to per- suade her husband to live with her, and to accept some employment which her friends will undertake to find him. or to divide his 200Z. a year with her, which ' the world cannot say is an unreasonable request.'

Tom is, however, quite scandalized that a deserted wife can permit herself to make such unpleasant suggestions to a man of culture and refinement. Nor does Sir Ealph feel able to interfere on behalf of the poor lady, whose petitions are as trouble- some, as her wrongs are indisputable; but as he cannot shake off the claims which such near

SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS 103

kinship and his own kindness impose upon him, Eliza's piteous appeals and Tom's highly moral begging letters, continue to torment him to the end of his life. The more preposterous Tom's request is, the more Scripture he quotes in support of it, and on one occasion he favours Sir Ealph with an essay Aug. so, upon 'The 3 Degrees of Ingratitude that history maketh mention of,' their characteristics and the penalties imposed upon them by the Egyptians and other ancient nations ; Death alone being held fit to expiate the third degree, 'that the earth might quickly rot such an execrable creature as it had brought forth.' The due balancing of his sentences gives him never-failing pleasure, he would have supplied invaluable leading articles to a pungent party paper, with a daily demand for cheap abuse of the opposite side.

Tom remained some years in Ireland with vary- ing fortunes ; at one time he is hiding from fresh creditors, hunted by five couple of beagles and ' the pursuers,' but he proves, as he had boasted, 'not easily to be found, to the great charge of my malitious enemies ; ' then he is in clover again, having ' in travelling towards Limerick, received an Aug. so, invitation from one Sr George Hamilton, whose lady is Sister to ye duke of Ormond, who knew mee (upon his intimate acquaintance with my brother Sr Ed:) at ye first sight of mee, and treated mee far beyond my desert, and withall informed mee of some land

104 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

y* was allotted to my deceased brother for his arrears. Sr George telleth mee it cannot be less worth yu 20(V. per annum, & advised mee to look after it, which I should gladly doe, provided it be with your good leave and likeing.' ' Sir Daniel Treswell, lately dead, Sir Wm. Flower and Mr. Stephens were the commissioners to allot & sell out Sir Edmund Verney's arrears.'

Sir Ealph will not spend money in investigating Edmund's claims, but if Tom can find any profit accruing for it he shall have a good share. It was not the only occasion that Tom traded on his ? <^ younger brother's fair fame ; a letter of Mary Lloyd's to Dr. Den ton describes how he turned up some years later in Chester Cathedral.

Mar. is, ' Honour'd Uncle, — Sr now I will acquainte you

with that as was the greatest of newes to mee : last Sunday being att the quire who did I see but my brother Tom Verney, and could not satisfy my selfe whether I was not mistaken but after long view I found him to be the same; he came from Scotland to a Chester Merchant about some Mynes that he would be a partaker of, and returned on Monday, he is in a good equipage & his man to waite on him, & lookes well and lusty, but the sam Tom V. for a plodding Braine & building Castells in the Ayre ; the Gentlemen are very re- spectfull & oblidging to him, for my Brother Sr Edmd was Governor of the Castle, & they honour & respect the name still. My husband presents his humble

SIK KALPH'S EELATIONS 105

services to you, pray accept of the same from her that is Sr,

Yor obedient niece & servant to command,

M. LLOYD.'

Whatever time and thought Dr. Denton could spare from his patients, were divided between his girl, who kept the house alive with her merry tongue, and a ponderous theological treatise which years of labour had rendered little less dear to him than Nancy herself. This charming and saucy damsel, though she did not marry till her twenty- fourth year, had had many suitors from childhood. In 1662 her father was in treaty with a Mr. Barker, the settlements on each side promised well, the father was ' in hearty good earnest,' but Doctor feared that ' there was a pad in the straw as to the sow,' and being 'in a great quandary,' he appealed to Sir Ealph having ' no one to consult withall but women.'

Nancy was meanwhile planning a marriage on her own account. Strong in her position as the spoilt child of the family, and absolutely certain of being able to do what she chose with her father and godfather, she received the addresses of a pre- sumptuous Mr. Ford, who, disregarding all the proprieties of the period, had approached her with- out her father's knowledge. But for once ' Mistress Monkey' was startled to find she had reached the end of her tether. Neither tears nor coaxing were of the least avail, and a good deal alarmed and sobered, Nancy wrote — not unassisted — the following

106 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

remarkable epistle to her suitor, a copy of which was kept by the authorities she had defied. The phrase about her father must have been all her own — imagination fails to picture the Doctor with his dry humour and professional calmness, as 'implac- ably enraged ' — Nancy evidently wanted to cover her retreat.

May 19, ' Sir,— As I have been obliged to you for your

value, and kindnesse to mee, soe I must begg this farther obligation from you, as to lay a side all thoughts of farther kindnesse, or addresses to mee, for that uppon the presumption of my Fathers greate love for mee, I made it knowne to him. . . . but the truth is, instead of procuring his consent I finde him soe implacably enraged & soe abso- lutely peremtory in the deniall, that there is noe possibility or hopes, ever soe much as to thinke of it. ... I am very well assured that if I should bee soe unhappy soe to marry, hee would never give mee any thing of his estate liveing or dying, or ever see my face agayne, and therfore being obliged by the Law of God and nature to him, and my owne happinesse to comply with him in this his resolu- tion, I doe earnestly desire you to thinke noe more of it, for I shall not on any account what- soever, and soe I rest, Your servant,

ANNIE DENTON.'

In the winter of 1663, a more interesting alliance was arranged for Mistress Nancy with George Nicholas, a younger son of the old Secretary of

SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS 107

State. Sir Edward Nicholas represented the best traditions of the Cavaliers ; ' entering official life early, he had risen to its highest grade by proved capacity for business and knowledge of affairs,' 1 and was known < throughout his whole life,' says Lord Clarendon, ' as a person of very good reputation and of singular integrity.' He was now an old man, and had just retired from c his great office,' refusing a peerage, but continuing to serve his Majesty on the Privy Council.

Nancy wrote to Sir Ealph in November, craving his support at a difficult crisis of her engagement,. c as for the gentleman you have shued no bitterness against him, I take you for one of my best friends that will keep my father from being angry with me.'

At Christmas time Mrs. Dr. Denton was already busily planning the wedding feast. Was there a fat doe at Claydon, or could one be fatted at short notice? she inquired of Sir Ealph. Margaret Elmes, whose taste and cleverness are universally acknowledged, has come up to Covent Garden, and the ladies c are now every day mity busy about the wedding clothes, 100/. is already gon with them and a considerable som moare will be laid out about them, it cannot be tolorably dun with less.'

Dame Jane Nicholas, to whom Nancy has already lost her heart, pays a ceremonious visit to good vulgar Mrs. Denton. Aunt Isham hears 'that the man is without Excepchon, & that is the thinge

1 NicJwlas Papers, publ. Camden Soc. 1886.

108 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

I am pleased att for all the forting is loe, one is not always hapye with a greate for tine.' But though the women's part of the business was in so forward a state, there were rumours that the Doctor was yet to satisfy about the settlements .

The Nicholas family suffered severely in the dis- tracted times ; the bridegroom's grandfather had been 6 plundered thrice in one week ; ' his uncle, the Dean of Bristol, was turned out of house and home ; ' his wife, poor gentlewoman, pitied by all, tho' not holpen by any,' was reduced to sending her only maid into the market-place, ' selling rosemary & bayes to buy bread ; ' nor did Mr. Secretary Nicholas fare better. Since the Eestoration the family fortunes had revived a little ; the young Sir John Nicholas held his father's old post of Clerk to the Privy Council, but no large portion could be given to George, the youngest of the three sons. Sir John Nicholas sought an introduction to Sir Ealph from a mutual friend Charles Whitaker, that he might not, on his brother's behalf, ' come solitary in the quality of a stranger, which hee is, purely, to his great unhappinesse.' Sir Edward Nicholas eventually surrendered to his son George the benefit ' of one 4th part of the office of Surveyor Generall of his Majestie's Customs, as well as his estate, title and interest in the parsonage of Wherl- well in the County of Southampton,' and Dr. Denton settled land on his daughter yielding a clear rental of 100/. a year. The matter was apparently settled, Feb. 16, but on February 16, an agitated note from Nancy

SIE KALPH'S RELATIONS 109

reached her kind old friend. ' If you could posibly for your business com hethar, you wold oblige me mutch, for now my father is as hard to be par- swaded to anything as my mother is.' Sir Ealph did not fail her, the marriage took place two days later, and after the honeymoon the bride writes to him in a rapture of gratitude : ' Deare Parant, this titell corns not to you unmerited for I know of no one that has more wright to it then your self e. . , . God Almighty reward you for your peas-making betwen fathar & child for next under God you ware the means of it. ... I shall beg your pardon & ever remain Your dutyfull child & best girlie still,

ANNE NICHOLAS/

Sir Edward and Lady Nicholas offered bed and board to the young couple for the first months, and Nancy speaks of them with extreme affection. The Doctor is more than reconciled to his son-in-law, and in the autumn they c are gon to the Fens and so in- tend for a ramble.' ' My fathar and Nike are both run a wae I think,' Nancy writes to Sir Ealph, 6 for they are not com home yet but they have almost destroied your manor of Cladon, & Nobill Soul has uesed them as I hear very kindly.' Her health requires care, and old Aunt Abercromby ' has mounted the gard a fortnight sence. My mother is in ill cais, seing my fathar stais so long a wae, & sais she shall nevar be well, but I hope in that she speaks not truth. The town is empty & barin of newes & I as dull for want of my Nike. . . .

110 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

There is a Giant come out of Holond and he is 9 fut hy & 2 inches. I beleve my poor Nike wold stand betwen his legs, he has sutch long ones. . . . I will now tiar you no longer, only ask you an evning blesing, & rest as you shall ever find me your truly loving cosin and best Child.'

In Christmas week both families rejoice over the birth of ' a lusty boy,' christened Denton, who is prosperous, ' even to a mirekell,' according to his mother's account. ' My boy is now undressing by me/ she writes, when the treasure is just able to toddle, ' and is sutch prety companey that he hindars me so, I cannot write what I wold.'

The other children born to George Nicholas and Nancy were, Jane (b. 1666), a son who died an infant in 1670, and John (b. 1674). Denton Nicholas was at Trinity College, Oxford, with the younger Mun Verney ; he became a Doctor, and died in 1714. Jane, called after her grandmother Nicholas, was also 10, Sir Ealph's godchild. Nancy writes to thank him for 6 making a cristian of my litill girle who I will indevar to make as duty full to you as myselfe am.'

Jane's marriage to Sir John Abdy is told in a later chapter ; when her daughter was born, nothing would satisfy Lady Abdy but that Sir Ealph should stand sponsor, as he had stood for the baby's mother and grandmother. He was flattered by the request, being wont to boast that his godchildren 'were alwaies the best of the Brood, witnesse Nancy Nicholas.' Dr. Denton lived to be godfather to his

SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS 111

great-grandson, afterwards Sir Eobert Abdy. The baronetage, which became extinct in 1759, was revived in the female line, and the present Sir Wil- liam Abdy is a direct descendant of Dr. Denton's. Nancy's youngest son Jack had Bishop Patrick for his godfather ; he was educated at Harrow, took Holy Orders in 1701, married in 1706 e the dau. of Parson Dod,' and left a son George.

These grandchildren and great-grandchildren were the joy of the Doctor's old age, and after his wife's death in 1675 the Nicholases made their home with him in Co vent Garden.

Mistress Nancy's popularity was gauged rather enviously by other matrons, by the amount of venison she received in presents. ' I dar say,' one lady remarks, ' fue as has parkes of ther one, has so much spent in ther house as my Cossen Nicholas eats, for as she tells me, she eats it as others eat beaf, three tims A week, baked, boyled, rested and potted.' Sir Ealph sends her snipes and larks. ' My Nike,' she writes, ' was y* afternoon gone to bed wth a cold and the exstrordinary goodnes of ye fouls tempted him up again to supper. ... I never did see firmer or fresher or fatter.'

She is delightfully young as a mother and grand- mother, and expects to go everywhere and to see every- thing. 'Nancy hath beene at the Tower,' the old Doctor writes on one of these occasions, ' & was afraid when she saw the men in armour, & durst not see the Lyons.'

112 VERNE Y FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

But to return to the year 1664, Nancy's marriage being off his mind, the Doctor gave himself up with keen relish to his defence of Protestant opinions, and this same year his ' Horse Subsecivae ' was published. He thus sets forth his intentions — ' A sad fate attends both him that writes and him that writes not. He that Prints exposeth himself to be wounded by others, and he that forbears to Speak or Print in the cause of God, provokes God to disown him.' The doctor has persuaded himself that in a century of controversy, the 'just defence of England against Eome, the Innocency of our Princes and their Government and of the Protestant religion, has never yet been particularly handled in any particu- lar Tract that ever yet I could see and hear of, which I hope may excuse me A tanto if not A toto.' Arming himself with a goodly store of biblical texts and classical quotations, the doctor descended into the dusty arena and laid about him with vigour, belabouring Popes, Cardinals and Councils, 6 rightly expounding things generally misunderstood,' and in the heat of the fray losing the sense of humour, the delicate irony and the felicity of ex- pression which make his private letters so delight- ful. He continued to prescribe for 'Ecclesiastics of all Perswasions,' to purge out heresies, and to devise for weak faith a robust tonic, feeling no scruple in dogmatising about the soul's ailments, though he had often confessed to the difficulty of treating those of the body.

SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS 113

In the beginning of 1665 Dorothy Leeke's health iDegan to fail. She was one of the unmarried women who are the good angels of a whole family. Her warm heart, her unaffected piety, and her cheerful spirits, unbroken by poverty and dependence, made her welcome in every household.

Lady Grawdy treated her as a sister, and when- ever she could be spared from Croweshall, she was overwhelmed with invitations from friends and cousins, but divided her time chiefly between Chan- cery Lane and Claydon. She never lost an oppor- tunity of serving Sir Ealph, and when Sir Charles Oawdy sends over a groom to Claydon, he is sure to have a merry letter from Doll in his wallet. * Dear Sir Ealph/ she writes on one of these occa- sions, e you beleve your self now at liberty & fre from all troublesome parsons, but this is to let you see that you ought not to be very Confident of any thing in this world, for in all places I shall find you out to torment you, yet my thoughts are so free from malis, that I wish this may only hinder you of a quater of an hower slep in the Evining ; not when you are in your park amoungst your prety dear, Nancy atinding you ; nor in your fine wood & walks, for ther I will a low you to think of the last beauty you saw at Loundon. By this time I beleve you wish to come to the bisnis that caused this leter, but to tell you the truth I have none, nor anything more to say, but that I could be con- tented to be in Sir Charlses boy's plac the time he is

VOL. IV. I

114 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

at Cladon, if you wold admit me into the parlur, but then or hear I can never be other then your most faithfull servant to Comand.'

Edmund welcomed her very cordially at East Claydon, where she took Luce Shepperd's place in helping Mary with her housekeeping, and in en- couraging her to occupy herself in various direc- tions.

At the White House she is to ' lay over the Hall because the inward room is so convenient for her Maid,' ' dans la chambre sur la sale, mais non pas dans une sale chambre,' Mun writes ; * she eats no flesh on Fridays nor willingly on Wednesdays in Lent.' Mary is hard at work embroidering the hangings for a big green bed ; Doll busies herself with sorting silks and crewels ; she sends patterns to Sir Ealph and Lady Elmes to be matched in London, and helps Mary with the intricacies of the ' rosemary stitch.' Mary likes her task very well, but Doll considers ' ther is too much work in it, and ther is sertan birds and flyes and other crepers which I know not, and frute which I do not much like, but it is a very fine thing, tho they be Left out. Gamboy, Marigold and Vaunter [Sir Ealph's hounds] made us a visit which was all the strangers we had.'

In the midst of her unselfish ministrations, this kind woman first began to suspect the real nature of the ' dangerous corroding disease ' from which she was suffering. The shock and the increasing

SIR RALPH'S RELATIONS 115

pain upset her for the time, the more so as c Doc- tor's physicke ' failed entirely to check its progress, but she rallied bravely from her depression, kept her sufferings to herself as far as might be, and as the year wore on, private anxieties were merged in a great public calamity.

i 2

116 VERNEY FAMILY FROM THE RESTORATION

CHAPTER IV.

THE PLAGUE AND THE FIRE.

1665-1666.

' Things are in the saddle And ride Mankind.'

THE plague so often referred to in the earlier Verney letters had been for many years in abeyance. ' During the Civil Wars London had been the safest place of residence & had grown fast while other towns were languishing/

At first the fresh outbreak in the spring of 1665 is noticed merely in joke : — ' Tis plaguey newes that x the plague has come to Southwark.' In May Sir May is, Ealph writes from Chancery Lane : ' Tis an ill time to put out money for the feare of the Plague makes many willing to take their Estates out of the Gold- smiths' hands, & the King's greate want of money makes many very unwilling to lend any money to these that advance greate summs for him. I know some friends that have 1000Z. & 1500/. a peece that they cannot dispose of; Mr Kempe came to my \ Lodging on purpose to desire mee to helpe him to

THE PLAGUE AND THE FIKE 117

dispose 3 or 400/. on good security. . . . Coals are not only excessive deare, but are not to be had, wee heare of a hope for greate Fleets hereafter, but we doubt tis but discourse.' He is thankful to have the Claydon woods to fall back upon, and must cut down more timber than he desires. It is a hot and dry season, and Mun is to see that the young mul- berry trees are well watered. He complains to Sir E. Mauleverer that ' Eents were never soe hard to get in, the noyse that the Bill against bringing in foreine Cattle is not like to passe the House of Lords makes all our markets