Wetherleigh, a Romance of Hampton Court

Front matter

WETHERLEIGH. MRS. NOT! BY Lhf.Y. WETHERLEIGH, A ROMANCE OF HAMPTON COURT. BV RICHARD DAVEY, Author of the " Sand Sea," etc. THE ROXBURGHE PRESS, FIFTEEN, VICTORIA STREET, WES1 MINSTER. THIS WORK, AND ALL THE PUBLICATIONS OF THE ROXBURGHE PRESS, ARE SUPPLIED TO THE TRADE BY MESSRS. SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT, AND COMPANY, LIMITED, AND CAN BE OBTAINED THROUGH ANY BOOKSELLER. CONTENTS. The Prologue. Chapter. Page. I. "The Monk's Head" ... 7 II. The Two Fingees 27 III. The Manoe House ... 42 IV. "The Wept of Wetheeleigh " - 54 The Melodeama. I. Tunbeidge Wells 72 II. The Queen of Sheba 84 III. A Fatal Accident - - - 100 IV. Waltee Nott .... m V. Amok Vincit Omnia - - - 128 VI. Lost 138 VII. A Gossip in a Gaeden - - - 149 VIII. At the Play in the Seventeenth Centuey ----- 164 IX. Nell Gwynne - - - - 180 X. The Two Queens - - - - CONTENTS— continued.

XL His Majesty the King 204 XII. Duchess Barbara meets with an Adventure - 211 XIII. The Red Feather 230 249 XIV. Mrs. Stewart Misbehaves Herself XV. Milton .... 260 XVI. Plague and Pleasure XVII. Hampton Court - 284 304 XVIII. Nereus 328 XIX. In the Lime Grove XX. The Fatal Letter XXI. The Old Tower - 347 369 Wetherleigh. THE

Prologue

Chapter I

" the monk's head.' One bitter cold evening in December, 1652, a lumbering post-coach was struggling through the twilight, as fast as weaned horses and terrible ruts would permit, along the tiresome road from Gravesend to London. A storm was threatening. All day the lowering, leaden sky had hung even, dull, and near. The air was sharp and still. Just as the coach entered a wood, a few feathery flakes fell. Faster and faster they floated down. When it grew dark a violent snowstorm set in. Suddenly one of the leathern curtains which covered the windows of the vehicle was thrust aside. " For heaven's sake," cried a harsh voice to the driver, " The Monks Heads " ook smart ! Your pay shall be double if you get to town to-night." "Lawcus heart ! * sir," replied the driver, in a strong Kentish accent, after consulting with the postillion, "that ain't possible.

With dis here weather we can't get to Lun'un, sir, afore ten to-morrow, and dat's as sure as der be dogs in Dover." f " Then turn back ! 'Tis starvingly cold," said the occupant of the coach. " Let us go back to Gravesend; or, maybe you know of some inn on the road a little further on, where we can spend the night." " There be a house as lye lew, J called 'The Monk's Head,' and just about the best thing we can do is to make for it, I guess," broke in the postillion. "It's a much lew place beyond the weald, and der be real good cheer der too." " Drive to it, and fast," returned the traveller, with an oath, as he closed the curtain. The coach trundled on. As night approached, the violence of the storm in- * An Ancient Kentish expression, equivalent to " Bless ye." f This still popular Kentish saying rises from the fact that in the middle ages, it seems there was a dog market in Dover.

I " Snug under the wind." The word " lew " in Kentish dialect means sheltered. "Much" is still used instead of "very." "Weald" is a wood. "The weald of Kent, or woody part of Kent," is now the most cultivated of the county. The supposed Americanism " I guess," is a well-known ancient Kentish idiom, signifying, "I think, or believe," and was, by the way, commonly used in olden times all over England. " The Monk's Heads 9 creased. A bitter wind howled through the trees, and the snow grew blinding. The ponderous carriage advanced leisurely enough, but not so slowly as to distance by a long way a wearied traveller, on a lame horse, who had stopped and asked the driver to be directed to the hostelry in question. At about seven o'clock a light appeared in the distance, and the coachman gave his master the pleasing informa tion that " The Monk's Head " was in sight at last.

" Thank God ! " was the traveller's response. He was chilled to the bone, hungry, and in total darkness, while, to add to his discomfort, the snow was drifting thickly in through the openings of the uncomfortable vehicle, un sheltered save by its leathern curtains. In less than half-an-hour, to the delight of men and horses, the coach entered the courtyard of a rambling inn. " The Monk's Head," in pre-Reformation days — as was indicated by its architecture, and the religious character of the remains of elaborate sculptures and bas-reliefs which covered its red-brick fa§ade — had been monastic property. The ruddy ray of firelight which fell upon the coach and horses, and across the snow, immediately the wide Gothic door was opened, caught also a singular stone corbeille above it, evidently destined originally as a support for the statue of the Virgin.

This corbeille represented the head of a friar, and gave the inn its name. It was of colossal " The Monk's Head? 10 proportions, rudely graven, distorted, uncouth, and hideous in feature. The local legend declared it to be the portrait of a renegade monk, who, in " the days of super stition," had sold himself to the devil, in return for an all powerful secret in alchemy which His Satanic Majesty had imparted to him. " What ho ! John ! Jim ! Bob ! and the rest of ye ! " cried mine host, hastening to the door. " Be quick ! here's a gentleman means to spend the night with us, and he's a'most perished wi' cold. Look to his horses, ye rascals ! And pray you, sir," to the gentleman in the coach, " get ye down, and come to our roaring fire. We have good cheer galore, and as snug soft beds as any you'll find 'twixt here and Lun'un town."

John, Jim, and Bob were soon at hand. The coach was unloaded and run under shelter, and the horses stabled, whilst the coachman and postillion were bidden to the kitchen, and were presently in the midst of a hearty meal. The traveller jumped out of the vehicle with as great alacrity as his stiffened joints allowed. On entering the parlour and standing in the broad full light of the candles and grateful fire, he was seen to be a stalwart man of some fifty years of age. He was richly dressed in dark cloth, but his garments were travelstained. As he passed into the room, he swiftly threw over his head the flowing " The Monk's Heads 11 French wig then in fashion, which he had taken off in the coach for convenience sake. The face, which the vol uminous ringlets of this ungainly head-gear surrounded, was by no means pleasant in expression.

Though the features were handsome and regular, so many tempests of debauch had passed over them, that they were most unalluring. Every evil passion was graven there. The wicked, black, bleared eyes, with their smoky whites, had a deadly, snake-like look. The thin upper lip indicated cruelty ; the thick lower one, sensuality. There was a certain effeminacy about his walk and manner, too, which would have stamped the man at once in the eyes of a Lavater as one who had " abused the gifts of God, and who was not to be trusted." His voice was high-pitched, like a woman's ; an ugly thing in a man. Yet he was so condescending and affable that the majority were immediately taken with him, and he evidently possessed the talent of rendering himself popular, and that speedily. Tomasine, the landlord's wife, had but to look upon him once, to cry out to her wenches, on her return to the kitchen, that she was sure " he was a nobleman."

The " keeping room," into which the new-comer was introduced, looked all the more warm and comfortable by reason of its pleasant contrast with the dreariness with out. It was a large chamber, with a brick floor freshly sanded. Some half-dozen or so of yeomen, who were in the habit of passing their evenings at the inn, were " The Monk's Heads 12 assembled round the fire, which blazed beneath what had once been a high and finely-sculptured stone chimney piece ; but its carvings and embellishments were greatly mutilated. The walls were hung with coarsely-printed amorous and political ballads, fastened on with long brass nails or pins. In a conspicuous part of the room hung a frame, exhibiting the latest official edicts and lists of criminals condemned to death or to the stocks, on the corners of which documents the signature of Cromwell figured in big letters.

The table was littered with ale mugs. The gentleman spoke civilly enough to the other guests, and seated himself with easy grace amongst them. " Our ale is real good, sir,'' averred Master Steenie Caps, the host, as he entered with a frothy tankard of his best October brew for his latest comer. "Pray, drink, sir. Tomasine, my good wife, 'ull have supper ready soon. The finest of capons is a-roasting in the kitchen, and when you be ready for your bed, sir, I'll see you have a cup of sack fit for the King— I mean for Master Oliver Cromwell hisself. We're famous for our sack, ain't we, Cap'en Harrowsby ? ' Wine to make glad the heart of man, and woman to make him a cheerful countenance,' as the Andrew say," At the mention of the " Andrew " some of the company smiled, for Master Caps had a fashion of attributing a " The Monk's Head? 13 remarkable number of misquotations to a certain " Andrew," or clown, he had seen at the Globe Theatre on the only occasion he had ever attended a play.

The person he addressed as " Cap'en Harrowsby " sat nearest the fire, close under the shelving chimney-piece. He merely nodded in the affirmative to the innkeeper's question, and as he did so he turned his head away and fixed his gaze intensely upon the fire, thus averting the sinister and agitated expression of his countenance from the observation of the company. The moment the stranger had entered, Harrowsby — unnoticed, however, by any — had been moved by a strange excitement ; so great, indeed, that he had not ventured to call back his dog, which had barked angrily at the gentleman. He did not dare trust his voice. His features even worked un controllably for a minute or so. He was agitated, apparently, by terrible and bitter thoughts which the presence of the new-comer had suddenly roused.

His great shaggy wolf-hound, reduced to silence by several kicks, crouched growling at his feet, its long, lank, but graceful body thrust partly under his chair. By-and-by it quieted down, stretched out its fine and intelligent head, leaned it upon its folded fore paws, and watched proceedings with a knowing, but yet an angry air, its eyes glowing in the dark like two fiery topazes. Cap'en Harrowsby was a singular looking man, and bronzed by exposure, like a sailor. In figure he was tall, " The Monk's Heads 14 and his frame was strong and bony. His face was wide and large, the features regular and striking. He wore his hair long, as was the fashion in those days with the com moners, who allowed nature to supply the place of the rather ungainly wigs, which were sometimes absurdly exaggerated by the lesser gentry, much to the amusement of the nobles, who got theirs from Paris direct, and of the correct shape and cut.

To the majority the Cap'en was simply a taciturn man, who could, when he chose, make himself agreeable enough, and display an amount of scholarship rarely to be found even among reputed clerks. The Cap'en's moments of loquacity, however, were like angels' visits, few and far between. He was usually, so the gossips in the keeping-room of "The Monk's Head" declared, " as close as an oyster." At long intervals during ten years he had frequented this inn, and wras considered an honest man, of uncom municative habits. If, perchance, a personage of education, delayed by accident or storm, passed the night under Master Caps' roof, Harrowsby, the opportunity offering, would condescend to enter into talk so full of big sound ing words and profound meanings that, although the scholar appeared amazed and delighted, the rest of the company, soon growing wearied with listening, would withdraw and leave the pair to their sapient dialogue, while, casting up their eyes with looks of terror " The Monk's Heads 15 (for it was a superstitious age) they begged " God deliver them from evil.

The Cap'en was surely a talking witchery ! " It sometimes happened that the learned guest, on retir ing, would question mine host as to the antecedents of the Cap'en, but Master Steenie Caps knew very little or nothing about them. Once the great Mr. Evelyn lodged at " The Monk's Head," and having entered into a colloquy with Harrowsby, thus makes mention of him in a letter to his friend, the famous Dr. Jeremy Taylor : — " And here I have been," writes he, " detained some three days with my foot, the wounding of which by a fall from my horse you are acquainted with. Thanks be to the Lord, it pains me less and less, and by His mercy will soon heal. Here I have fallen in with a fellow named Harrowsby I met abroad at Venice, when wander ing in Italy. He tells many strange things of the lands he has visited, for he hath been in Italy, Spain, and even at Cyprus, and in Egypt.

From the way in which he speaks, I take him to be a man of birth ; but when I ventured to question him, even very dis creetly, on his past history, he grew angry, and became silent, so that I had much ado to make him speak with me again. I fear his heart is not with the Lord, whom you so nobly serve. Sir, if you were here you could do a mighty deal of good, by your sage and Christian way of discourse, and lead him from his hardened fashion of speaking of God and men. I have heard him in the past hours talk so vindictively of one he says hath done him injury, that I have longed for your charity and power of ministration towards sinners. I owe him, albeit, gratitude for his entertaining talk on matters of interest to me in science and travel, and thereby he has made endurable my enforced stay away from those who, like your " The Monk's Head." 16 honoured self, sir, I love and esteem.

But, sir, what am I in com parison with you, who seem to me to have furnished the world with countless good examples, and rare precepts against evil ? " As already said, from the moment the stranger entered, this man Harrowsby could not take his eyes off him. When he first heard his voice without he started up, and stood listening for a few seconds. Then a fierce look of anger swept across his features, and he fell back half dazed into his seat. None had observed this incident, but soon all noticed that his previous composure had left him. One old man asked the cause of his sudden silence. " Nothing, neighbour, nothing. The heat of the fire hath made me sleepy, that's all," he answered with some irritation. Then he resumed his study of the stranger. He masked his face with his hands, and watched him through his fingers.

His eyes glared fiercely. The veins in his forehead and throat swelled like cords, and he could hardly repress the quivering that marked his excitement. By-and-by a deadly pallor came over him. Then he calmed down, and still hiding his face, pretended to have fallen asleep. Meanwhile the gentleman, haughty and unobservant, condescended to fall into a chat ; told how he had passed many years in America, and was just arrived in Europe, " The Monk's Heads 17 by France ; related^his sea experiences, and cursed the bad roads. He was in the midst of a fine description of the superiority of French coaches over those of England when his supper was announced. He rose, first courteously, but for mere company's sake, inviting his neighbour to partake with him. He being a man of prodigious stomach eagerly accepted the offer, and soon both were discussing the tasty fowl and excellent ale the buxom serving-woman had set before them.

The watcher by the fire slightly changed his position during their meal, for better observation. When the two men came back, he relapsed into his simulated slumber. " I've not been in England these ten years and more, sir," observed the gentleman, drawing up to the fire. " Things have mightily changed whilst I've been abroad. Why, sir, the day before I sailed for America, whither I was sent by Government in charge of an office in Virginia, the late King went in procession through London, in state, to the Short Parliament." " I mind the circumstance of it right well," broke in the gossip, "right well ; a glorious sight — the King a'goin' in pomp through Lun'un streets, amidst such cheering as never was heard afore nor since." " And yet but four years ago," observed the stranger, "this self-same King, Charles I., was beheaded."

" For the land's sake, sir," whispered buxom Mistress Tomasine Caps, as she seated herself in a low seat close " The Monk's Heads to the fire and near the stranger, " don't ye begin to talk politicks here, whilst there be so many hocker-headed* folks abroad. It's sure to bring about words, if it don't blows. You'll take it kindly, I hope, in me being so free as to say so to you." The gentleman, however, deigned only to smile rather sarcastically at the fat good-natured little woman. Then he asked abruptly of the man who had shared his supper, "I think, master, you said you saw the King's death, did you not? I wish you'd tell me about it." "An't it please you, sir, and so I will," said the man, only too delighted, notwithstanding the evident annoy ance of the landlady, to relate for the hundredth time a tale of such interest.

Several men, though Roundheads, as was easily to be seen by their shaven pates and plain attire, but who yet loved to hear the sad narrative of the King's death from one who had witnessed it, drew closer to him, and helped to form a horse-shoe round the glow ing fire. Harrowsby meanwhile still pretended to be sleeping soundly. From time to time a look of contempt stole across his face, especially whenever the stranger ventured on any expression of pity for the sorrow and suffering of the King, as if he knew full well the man's heart was too brimful of selfishness and cruelty to be capable of kindly feeling. * Hot-headed. " The Monk's Head. " 19 "Right well do I mind the King's death, sir," con tinued the gossip, a fine looking man of the trading class, as he assumed that air of importance we all are wont to put on when we boast of having seen wonders our friends have never beheld, or declare our acquaintance with the high and mighty.

"I'm kind o' related to Gregory Brandon" the axe-man as cut the King's head off. My wife was his cousin, and as certain as I and you sit here together, Brandon, because the King did not say he'd forgive him, as he craved his Grace to do before he struck the blow, took to his bed when all was over and pined away into his grave ere eighteen months were by. Says he as how he al' us saw the King a standing by him just as he was at the hour of death, but holding his bloody head in his hands, and a-shaking of it at him. My wife, as was with him afore he died, heard him say often as how he saw the devil ready to tear him off his death bed. You know'd Brandon, Gregory Brandon, Cap'en Harrowsby, didn't ye? Why, I've heard ye say ye did." Cap'en Harrowsby paid no attention to the question, but the stranger now, for the first time noticed him, and was manifestly struck by his face, from which he had removed his hands, and which was just then distinctly lighted up by the fire.

He looked hard at him, with a * Gregory Brandon, who executed (against his will) Charles I., besought the King to forgive him the involuntary deed. His Majesty refused, a fact which caused Brandon such sorrow that he pined away and died within two years after the regicide. B " The Monk's Head." 20 curious expression of mingled hatred and fear, which, however, presently yielded to one of doubt, and mutter ing "Impossible, it cannot be ! " relapsed again into his haughty and indifferent attitude and languidly followed the gossip's story of the King's death. "Well, sir, 'twas about ten o'clock in the morning o' January 30th, 1649. I mind the date right well; and a bitter cold day it was, too, that King Charles was brought through the Park to Whitehall. I stood in the crowd, as big a crowd as e'er you see; and wi' me was my wife and Gregory Brandon's wife, and she a-crying fit to break her heart 'cause they forced her husband, as was ex ecutioner then, to kill the King, agin his will, poor man, and we mighty afraid the mob 'ud know her for Brandon's wife and have her in pieces; but she, woman-like, 'ud come.

Well, sir, the King walked arm-in-arm wi' Bishop Juxon; and Colonel Tomlinson, as pale as death, walked afore 'em with his hat off. And when they came right a-front of us, Lord! I thought Mrs. Brandon 'ud ha' died, for we heard the King say to an officer as asked him if he had helped with Buckingham to kill his father, ' If I had but that sin to answer for, I'd not fear to meet God.' Then he passed away among the soldiers and the people. Some of the soldiers spit on him; but, Lord, how the folks did weep and moan ! " "Did you see him die?" asked the gentleman, gravely. "Faith, did I! Well, me and my wife and poor Cousin "The Monk's Head." 21 Brandon, when the King had passed away into Whitehall, we went up to a house close by the Palace as belong to a friend o' mine's master, and we went up on the roof and saw the King come out and make a speech by the scaffold; but ne'er a word did we hear, though they do say as how he spoke a wonderful lot of goodliness.

And when poor Mrs. Brandon see the poor King laid flat on his face, and her husband a-going up to chop his head off, it was as if she'd lost her reason, for off she went in a swound and my wife and me had to hold her up, and carry her into the chamber. I run up agin, and saw the axe fall upon the King's neck, and the blood a-pouring from it. 'Twas a dreadful sight as ever was seen on earth, and the people fell to groaning as if judgment had come upon us all. They do say he died easy ; and some said it was well he died, and some not. They say, too, that the snow fell so thick upon his coffin, that when it got to the Chapel Royal at Windsor the black velvet pall, was as white as a pigeon's back ; and many folks take this for a sign as how he were kind o' innocent o' the harm they did say he done the people.

But I am no politician one way nor t'other." Seeing that a political discussion was about to follow this account of the King's death, the hostess thought fit to remark, by way of preventing it and changing the topic of conversation, that she "hoped her guest had had a pleasant journey." " The Monk's Heads 22 "It took me," he replied, "three days from Paris to Calais ; and we were twelve hours crossing to Dover, as there was no wind. We had some nice company with us. Two Polish gentlemen, and one Master Hollar, a Bohe mian artist from Prague, and a young fellow in the Venetian Ambassador's service; and they all assured me matters political were most unsettled here in England since the coming to power of Old Noll." "You are mad to call him so," exclaimed the landlord, aghast at such liberties being taken with the terrible name of Cromwell.

" These bain't times for folks as have wives and children to look after to be a-talkin' politicks. It's just as well for 'em to mind their own business, and to let them as is put over us by Them that is, do accordin' to their own wills. I do feel kind o' sorry, too, for that poor King, tho' ; I do. Still, it's all for the best ! And Them that is (and don't let a sparrow hatch off a cuckoo's egg but They be sure to know it), is allus in the right. And arter all is said and done, them as wears crowns don't sleep any more comfortable in 'em than them that wears nightcaps, as the Andrew say." Notwithstanding this lengthy tirade from Master Steenie Caps, the gentlemen was determined to take no hint, broad or narrow, and soon resumed his political discussion, by dragging into it an elderly, but habitually taciturn man, seated next to Harrowsby.

This he effected by asking " The Monk's Heads 23 him his opinion concerning the right and justice of Charles I.'s execution. The old man, who was tall and thin as a skeleton, and had a face as wrinkled and brown as a walnut shell, answered in the nasal tone assumed by the strictest Puritans of the day : "Friend, is't not writ in Scripture, in the Book of Numbers, thirty-fifth chapter and the thirty-first verse, 'Moreover ye shall not take satisfaction for the life of a murderer which is guilty of death ; but he shall be surely put to death.' And in Deuteronomy, in the first chapter, and at the seventeenth verse, 'Ye shall not respect persons in judgment; but ye shall hear the small as well as the great.' The Lord hath said that there shall be no respect for persons in judgment, and there should be none.

If a King do harm, let a King be punished, and this King Charles was a man of evil ways, and not freely elected by the people. Again I pray you, read Leviticus, chapter twentieth, at the second verse, ' Whosoever he be of the children of Israel, or of the strangers that giveth away of his seed to Moloch, he shall be put to death; the people shall stone him with stones.' King Charles gave his people unto Moloch, and his people were obedient to the law, and slew him. See also Judges at the twenty-second and — " "Stay, I pray you; quote no more Scripture to justify murder," said the gentleman, somewhat angrily. " Murder! " cried the aged man, rising fiercely, and with " The Monk's Heads 24 the harsh tones of fanaticism in his voice. "Murder, say you? It was no murder, but the fulfilling of the command ments of God Himself, who, in his eternal wisdom, has placed His servant Cromwell to rule over us.

You blaspheme, and are a man of Belial so to call justice murder. See, I say, Scripture, what it sayeth on the matter in the Book of Deuteronomy." "Tut! tut! man!" exclaimed the stranger, in accents of irritation and contempt. "You would quote your Scripture to make black white and white black, if you were let." "You shall hear me out. In the Book of Numbers it's written," retorted the Puritan, "'tis written — " " The devil take Numbers and you too ! " answered the gentleman, much irritated. "Hold your peace I " "Ho! he blasphemes!" cried several voices; and to his dismay, the unlucky traveller found that the whole company, excepting Harrowsby, had risen, and was agitatedly siding with the Scripture man. The host and hostess, in great concern, were vainly endeavouring to lull the suddenly-risen storm.

"I but defend the innocent," exclaimed the gentleman, soothingly, "as behoved me. I beg you to pardon me, good masters, a stranger, long absent from England, if I have said aught to offend. I but sided with the innocent, as is my wont." Then, for the first time, Harrowsby rose to his full height, and confronted the gentleman, saying in a loud tone, "The Monk's Head." 25 full of exasperation and of withering contempt and irony, " As is your wont to defend the innocent! You are the man who defends the innocent, are you? They have a noble champion in you, as you and I full well do know ! Such a champion as the lamb has in the wolf when he buries his teeth in its tender flesh ! Charles of England was a tyrant, but I pity him if you, Eich — " "Who are you?" here interrupted the stranger im petuously, and with great agitation, so as to prevent the full utterance of the name.