Gervase Sacheverill: an episode of the seventeenth century

Front matter

ROEHAMPTON : PRINTED BY JAMES STANLEY. AN <%is0dc of the d|eittuj[iT. BV THEODORE HOWARD GALTON. " Indi sen 'va quel padre e quel maestro . . . che per la sete del martiro, Predico Cristo, e gli altri che il seguiro." — Dante, Paradiso, c. xi. LONDON : BURNS AND OATES, PORTMAN STREET AND PATERNOSTER ROW. 1876. TO JOHN HENRY NEWMAN, D.D. In permitting me to dedicate to you this attempt to clothe in a semblance of real life a fragment of our history, you confer upon me a twofold boon. In the first place, your name will impart a lustre to my feeble efforts which they would otherwise lack ; and secondly, your connection with the diocese in which my local narrative is laid, will at least seem to afford a sanction to the intention which animated me in composing it. The great revival of the Church in England, in which your name will ever hold a prominent place, has naturally awakened a keen interest in the memories of those old confessors and martyrs of the faith who weathered the storm of nearly three centuries of unrelenting persecution.

Lady Georgiana Fullerton, in her admirable romance ot " Constance Sherwood," set the example of embodying their deeds in a popular form. Father Morris and others have, in a more strictly historical shape, embarked in the task of elaborating the biographies of our Catholic fore fathers. To the efforts of these writers we may partly attribute the desire (already, I trust, in a fair way towards its accomplishment) of beholding some at least of our English Martyrs raised to the altars of the Church. My narrative is mainly confined to a single locality and to the Martyrdom of one Missionary Priest. In Dedication. VI relating his trial and execution I have carefully adhered to recorded facts. If any should be tempted to feel that in concealing his Priesthood at the trial, Father Wall seemed to fail in that spirit of bold and courageous defiance which marked the career of other martyrs, they should remember that such concealment was enjoined upon the missionary labourers in England as their only hope of supplying their scattered flocks with the ordinances of religion and thus keeping alive the spark of Catholicism in our country.

Priesthood was the very crime for which they were condemned, and it was part of their missionary duty to cast the onus of proving it upon their persecutors. I will only add that if this endeavour to foster an increasing interest in the old champions of the faith in England, should meet with your approval, I shall feel amply rewarded for my task. T. H. G. London, May, 1876. CONTENTS. Chap. • Page I. Gervase Sacheverill I II. Harvington Hall ....... 10 III. Clara Finch 20 IV. Elmley Lovet 28 V. Squire Townshend's harriers 37 VI. A Feud at Rushock 45 VII. Squire Finch's board 53 VIII. The Rival's vengeance ...... 62 IX. Gervase at Worcester ....... 75 X. Dame Dorothy Pakington ...... 87 XI. The Rival's triumph 99 XII. Rogers' proposal ....... 109 XIII. Father Wall in London 119 XIV. Dame Dorothy at Elmley 132 XV.

Chapter I. Gervasf

SACHEVERILL. During the first days of the month of October, 1678, a horseman was pursuing his way through the undulating and well timbered country south-westward of the little town of Bromsgrove in Worcestershire. The sun was lowering over the Clee and Abberley hills, and the autumnal air was growing chilly. The day had been unusually lovely for the timeW year, and the ride along the picturesque lanes, overhung with hawthorn and maple, of which the bright and golden tints enlivened the prospect, had been intensely enjoyable. The seared leaves of the numerous elms, contrasting with the oak woods still retaining their full verdure, enhanced the charm of the scene. Our equestrian, who had scarcely reached the prime of life, was tall and decidedly handsome, with brown hair and eyes, and features of a refined and delicate cast.

He wore the slouch hat and doublet, a short cloak hanging over his left arm, and spurred boots reaching above his knees, familiarized to us in the pictures of Vandyke. From the flanks of his jennet were suspended the saddle-bags containing his travelling equipage. His steed was tired, and he advanced slowly, pausing whenever he came to bye-roads, in hopes of descrying some peasant to inform him of his route. Unfortunately, these sources of information were few and far between. He had gone on for several miles without seeing a cottage, or meeting with a rustic, and within this space there had been many diverging paths without any clue for his guidance, saving the direction of the setting sun. Besides, as he advanced, the lanes deepened and the woods thickened, so that there was the less chance of obtaining any distant prospect which would enable him to judge of his whereabouts.

The evening was closing in apace, and he began to foresee the chances of being B compelled to bivouac in some croft wherein his horse could at best regale itself on the long damp grass, but where a chilly and suppcrless lair would be the only cheer in store for its hungry rider. The beast was evidently flagging after its long march, for he had ridden that day from Lichfield, only pausing at a wayside hostelry near Birmingham to recruit during his journey. He was bound for the mansion of a certain Squire Townshend, his maternal uncle, a justice of the peace, who dwelt at Elmley Lovet, and was pursuing, as best he could, the road which had been described to him by those of whom he had made enquiries as he passed through the town of Bromsgrove. He now began to feel that he had miscalculated the powers of his nag, and regretted that he had not taken up his quarters for the night with mine host of the Swan in that place.

While thus musing on his prospects, he found him self at some more cross roads ; but this time, to his relief, he heard sounds proceeding from a paddock, which awakened hopes of finding some one to direct his course. A cowherd was assembling his kine, to drive them to a neighbouring homestead. Ascending a steep path out of the roadway, our cavalier found himself at a short distance from the peasant, whom he accosted. " Hallo ! my friend," he said, " can you point me out the road to Elmley, where Squire Townshend dwells ? Methinks I have lost my way along these lanes, and stand good chance of being belated among the woods." " Like enough," returned the rustic, " for it be a hard matter at the best of times to track your way along these lanes. I know nought of Squire Townshend in these parts.

It be some eight or ten miles, 1 ween, from here to Elmley Lovet. This be on Cooksey Manor, Squire Wintour"s land ; but if ye follow yonder lane to the right, it will take you to the village of Chaddesley, where they will tell you the road to Elmley, and there be an ale house where ye can spend the night. Or, if your worship be minded to wait, I be driving these beasts to our homestead, where my master will be able to point you the best way whither ye list to go." Encouraged by this last suggestion, Gervase Sacheverill (for such was the name of our young cavalier) thought he could do no better than tarry until the peasant had collected his cows, when he followed him leisurely through some meadows to the farm-house whither he was bound. The homestead in question was one of those half-timbered struc tures then almost universal in that part of the country.

"The master's wife," quoth the rustic as they approached the dwelling, " be at death's door, I ween, and master will not be able to go with ye himself; but if he will tell me the road, maybe 1 can put ye in the way." " I am grieved I came to disturb your master, if his wife is in such peril as you say," rejoined Sacheverill. " I had done better to follow the lane you showed me, and made for Chaddesley for the night." They had now reached the fold-yard of the farm, when Gervase perceived two men standing beneath the porch in anxious confabulation. The one was habited in a smock frock, while the other wore the dress of a yeoman, but of such sombre colours as might have befitted a doctor in medicine. " There be master," said the cowherd. " Ye may ask him what ye list." The farmer caught sight of the stranger ere he had ridden his steed across the yard, and bade him "Good evening."

As soon as he had learnt his errand, he turned round quickly to the yeomanlikc personage by his side, and seemed to interro gate him. "Ha, Justice Townshend? You seek his house, sir? It must be seven or eight miles from here, methinks." " I am going in that direction," rejoined the yeoman, ad dressing Gervase; "and if you will trust to my guidance, I ■will put you in the way," "Nay, Master Webb," returned the farmer, "ye had better leave that to me. I can saddle the cob and guide the gentle man bv a cross road in less time." " You may be wanted at home, Thomas," replied the yeo man. " Stay with your wife, and follow the leech's directions. •God bless you and keep you in good heart, my friend." As he said this, he unconsciously raised his hand, as if making some sign, whereupon, much to the surprise of Gervase, the farmer grasped and pressed it to his lips, but instantly recoiled as if he had done something which he regretted.

" Where is Master Webb's nag ?" cried the farmer to the cowherd, who was lingering in the fold-yard ; " fetch it out, Will, quickly." "Your horse is jaded, sir," quoth the yeoman as he ap proached SacheverilFs steed. "Thomas, can you give this gentleman's horse a drink of gruel or a feed of beans ? I will gladly wait while he dismounts to rest it for a short space, and perhaps the gentleman himself might not be loath to taste a cup of your cider and a snack of bread and cheese." " By all means," exclaimed the farmer ; " I was forgetting myself, I trow ; but the gentleman must make allowance for a man whose wife is lying at death's door." Gervase was loud in his expressions of gratitude, for, to say the truth, neither horse nor rider were averse from accepting the proffered hospitality. " You need not grudge the delay," observed the yeoman, perceiving that Sacheverill was uneasy on account of the lateness of the hour, " for the moon will rise anon and light us on our way as well as if we had travelled three hours earlier."

Gervase soon found himself seated at the oak board in a neat and cleanly kitchen warmed by a blazing log-fire in a huge open chimney, where flitches of bacon were hanging to be smoked, while others stretched suspended from the beams of the ceiling. While he was regaling himself, he could not help remarking his host's deferential manner towards the yeoman, whom he called aside and engaged in a very earnest conversation by the door of an inner chamber. There was something in the yeoman's appearance which struck our young cavalier, and prepossessed him in his favour. He was rather above the middle height, of slender figure, slightly bent, and emaciated in face, with regular features, and hair completely gray. His voice was subdued, and his manner peculiarly gentle and remarkably courteous, and yet in his speech there was a slightly outlandish accent, such as was at times per ceptible among those cavaliers who had spent much time in foreign service.

But for his yeoman's garb, Sacheverill would have almost set him down as one of those who had been in exile in the days of the Commonwealth, or who had served in the English contingent under Louis XIV. in his wars against the Spaniards, but that his deportment was not sufficiently soldierlike to warrant such a conclusion. The farmer's deferential and almost obsequious manner towards him was also very puzzling to our traveller. While they were thus engaged in talking in an under tone, a wench opened the door by which they were standing, and whispered something hur riedly, whereupon both disappeared into the inner chamber. Having satisfied his hunger, Sacheverill was seized with a desire to look after his horse, and donning his beaver, he sallied forth into the yard and made for the stable in which the nags had been stalled.

His steed was still leisurely engaged in devouring its quartern of beans, and he was pleased to see that his friend the cowherd had rubbed it down, and that the animal looked sleek and ready for a fresh start as soon as it had completed its meal. " Who is the gentleman that owns the cob ?" enquired Gervase of the rustic as he placed a silver coin in his hand in return for his services. " Hey," returned the cowherd as he stroked down his hair in token of obeisance while staring vacantly at his questioner " He be a friend of master's. It beant no concern o' mine who he be, but he be a friend o' master's ; and thank your worship all the same for your kind favour." " Then you don't know that good yeoman's name, or whence he comes ? " pursued the traveller. " Methought I heard your master call him Webb."

"Webb, or some such name as that, he be called," rejoined the uncommunicative peasant, as he busied himself in getting down the horse's headgear from its peg. " Does he live in these parts ?" continued the young gentleman. " Why certes that he do, since he cometh oft to see master." " Is he a leech, forsooth?" asked the stranger. " Not as I have heard tell, although he might be somewhat of that for aught I know ; but ye had best ask master, or the franklein himself as ye ride with him. I hear master calling for the nags now, sure enew ! " And in truth the farmer and his companion were outside the stable looking for Sacheverill and the servant. The horse had soon demolished its feed, and both the equestrians prepared for a start. Some final whispered communications passed between the yeoman and his host, even after Gervase had warmly thanked the latter for his hospitality and had bidden him farewell.

In a short time the two horsemen found them selves crossing some fields by a species of bridle road, which took them under the lee of a copse, and after a time conducted them into a lane, where they could ride abreast. It was so dusk that none but an experienced hand could have threaded the somewhat intricate and circuitous path ; but very soon after they had descended into the hollow way the moon made her appearance in the horizon, and tinged the tops of the over hanging hedges with her silvery rays. " I fear you will be somewhat late at your destination," observed the yeoman to his companion, as soon as he had piloted him safely through the last gate, " for although your route, as the crow flies, might not exceed seven miles, the ways are so winding and intricate that you will scarce reach it under ten or twelve, methinks.

Is it your first visit to Squire- Townshend's mansion at Elmley ? " " Yes indeed, for though the Squire be my relation I have never yet had an opportunity of testing his hospitality. My mother married again, and since her marriage I have been little thrown with her family. The fact is, that my father's political bias stood in the way of his interests and cut me off from my mother's relations, who might perchance have been better able to help me on in life than the stern old cavaliers with whom I was thrown." " Then your father was a staunch royalist, I trow," quoth the yeoman. " Justice Townshend, although a foe to Papists, was ever favourable to King Charles, I ween." " But not a High Churchman or strong prelatist like my poor sire, who got into trouble through being more than once suspected for a Papist.

As to that, they say your shire abounds in recusants. I should think my uncle must live in hot water amongst them all." "He hath a keen eye that way," rejoined the yeoman,. " for to say the truth we have a sprinkling of those who hold true to the old faith despite the grievous ills and troubles of the time." The tone as well as the words of this last utterance awakened a suspicion in the mind of our traveller, which seemed to explain the farmer's manner towards the so-called yeoman. "If the journey to Squire Townshend's is like to be so long," pursued Gervase after a pause, " I would rather spend my night at some wayside hostelry and proceed onward at break of day, since I were loath to disturb the slumbers of the household by waking them up after they have all retired to rest." "At Kidderminster there is a goodly inn, and e'en at Hartle bury, which lies much nearer to the Squire's abode, you would find sufficient accommodation, but if I might make bold to suggest a better and easier course than either, I would entreat you to deign tarry at Harvington, where the Dame Yate will gladly welcome you and house you for the night, I doubt not."

" I should not dare thus to trespass on a lady's hospitality," returned Gervase. " I can vouch for your welcome," replied his companion, " and I would urge you to avail yourself of it on account of the late hour and intricacy of the roads. Nevertheless, it shall be as you deem best." "Are you going to that dame's?" enquired Gervase. "Yea, I purpose tarrying there myself," returned the yeoman. " Pardon my curiosity," quoth Sacheverill, " but is not your own dwelling in these parts ? " " I am a sojourner, without a fixed abode of my own," answered his companion. " You have doubtless travelled in foreign climes and seen much of the world?" enquired Sacheverill, curious to extract some information touching the quality and condition of his guide. " Yes, I have been abroad, although 'tis many years since," rejoined the other in a tone which scarcely encouraged further questioning, " but as I am now bound to Harvington it occurred to me that the hospitable dame who owns that mansion would willingly grant you a night's lodging rather than suffer you to wander onwards at so late an hour."

Having reached a level road they jogged forward at a brisk trot, and it was not until they came to a rise and slackened their speed that Sacheverill was enabled to renew the conver sation, i "As you are well acquainted with these parts," he said at length, " my kinsman at Elmley Lovet is probably not unknown to you ? " " I have seen Squire Townshend," replied his companion, " but I have no acquaintance with him. He is an active Justice of the Peace and does his duty according to his lights, for he is a staunch and bitter foe to recusants." " Is this good dame at Harvington a friend of his?" enquired Gervase in a tone which betrayed a suspicion of her loyalty. " Nay, as to that I should perchance have warned you that there is no great intimacy between them, although such near neighbours," returned the other.

" Your kinsman might resent your lodging with one whom he would consider a recusant. If so, I would not press you to linger on your road, but rather urge you to speed onward as far as Kidder minster, where you will find a goodly inn. Nevertheless, if you be minded to accept the lady's cheer, you will find her not a whit less disposed to entertain you hospitably on account of your kinship with the Justice, for the dame beareth no ill-will to any mortal wight, and is all kindness and affability to all men." "Then this Dame Yate is a Papist?" enquired Sacheverill. " She is one of those who cling to the old faith through evil and good report, and would, methinks, willingly lay down her life for conscience' sake," observed the yeoman calmly. " Not that I think the worse of her on that score," rejoined Gervase, " nor do I see wherefore I should be bound by my kinsman's prejudices and antipathies.

My poor departed sire had no such qualms, and to say the truth I always felt a lurking sympathy for the Catholics. I venture to presume that you, sir, are of the same persuasion ? " " I am a Catholic," answered his companion. " Was that farmer of the same faith ? " pursued the young man. " Remember, sir, that we live in days when to own oneself a Catholic is to incur a heavy penalty," replied the yeoman, " and that although I may be willing to risk my own safety, I should not be warranted in endangering another's." " You may trust to my honour as a gentleman that I will not betray you to my kinsman or any one else," retorted the youth eagerly. " I need not say where I have lodged on my journey, for he knows not, within a week, of the precise day of my arrival." Thus conversing they reached some more level ground, by which the yeoman profited to press forward and so avoid any further discourse until they drew near to the precincts of the old hall.

The moon shone brightly upon the tall elm trees which overshadowed the small hamlet preceding the mansion, and Sacheverill could already discern the dark turrets of the noble manor house, which presently loomed in its massive solidity, and was reflected on the waters of its broad moat. There was an air of antique grandeur about the place which seemed to harmonize with the associations of the old faith, and to conjure up a feeling of romance in the susceptible imagination of our young traveller. " Now, sir," observed the yeoman, " I must call upon you to make up your mind whether you will suffer me to introduce you to the Dame Mary Yate as her guest, or whether you would prefer to push forward along yon path toward Kidderminster ? If you choose the latter course, I will point you out the way ; but at the same time, should you deign to tarry here, I can make bold to promise you a hearty welcome and good cheer."

" I have already accepted your proferred hospitality, and do not feel disposed to revoke my assent to your good offer now that I am under the shadow of this grand mansion," returned Gervase. " I should have asked your name, that I may present you in due form to our hostess ? " quoth the guide. " My name is Gervase Sacheverill," said the traveller, " from the county of Derby." "A good Catholic name," replied his companion, as they approached the drawbridge, across which they were shortly admitted to the porch of the mansion.

Chapter II. Harvington Hall

Sacheverill observed that the domestic who admitted them into the house treated his companion with marked deference,, and ushered them into the corridor or vestibule without a question. "Is Dame Mary in the hall?" enquired the supposed yeoman of the serving-man. " Yea, sir, for she awaiteth your return," replied the latter, " and was fearing lest some mischance might have befallen you." " Come then, my good friend," said the former turning to Gervase, " that I may present you to the lady." The hall was a spacious room retaining many features of its mediæval prototypes, and, like them, serving not only as a banqucting-chamber, but as the general rendezvous of the household. Its walls were panelled with oak and partially decorated with tapestried hangings curiously wrought with scenes from Holy Writ.

A dais at the further end was carpeted with drugget, on which two ladies sat on high-backed chairs engaged in embroidery work, and at the same time earnest in conversation. The one was an elderly .matron dressed in the costume of Charles I.'s days — a stiff straight bodice and ample ruffles, and a cap almost concealing her gray locks ; the other was a maiden in her prime, in the costume immor talized by Sir Peter Lely, which set forth the delicate charm of her bright and attractive countenance. Her almost flaxen hair contrasted pleasingly with the brown eyes and dark eye brows, the very contrast imparting piquancy to the otherwise regular and beautiful face. There was a stately dignity and grace about the elder matron which charmed at first sioht. Their earnest discourse precluded them from noticing the first entrance of the new-comers, but the girl's quicker ear speedily detected their arrival.

" Here cometh Father Joachim," she said to the Chatelaine, " and he bringeth a stranger with him." In an instant the matron rose up to receive the priest (for such he was) and exclaimed as he approached : " Good Father, what hath detained you so late ? I was in fear and trembling lest some mischance should have befallen you — the more so as there are evil tidings in the wind." " My Lady Yate," returned the disguised Father, without apparently heeding her last words, " I have made bold to bring hither a guest for the night — a belated traveller on his way to his kinsman's at Elmley — one Master Gervase Sacheverill out of Derbyshire, who craves your ladyship's hospitality. Although not of our faith, his late father was, I understand, a friend to Catholics, and he will not betray us to the foe."

" Sir, you are welcome to Harvington," quoth the dame as she extended her hand to Gervase. The latter thanked his hostess cordially. He was too much rapt in admiration of the stately matron and the lovely maiden at her side to pay much attention to the unexpected revelation of the quality and condition of his late comrade ; and to say the truth, the fact of his being a Catholic priest did not cause him as much surprise as might have been anticipated. The character seemed to harmonize with his gravity and dignity of manner and to account for the respectful demeanour of the farmer towards him. " If your relative at Elmley is Squire Townshend, we are I fear, not in his good graces," observed the lady ; "and he will not be best pleased at your tarrying with recusants, especially at such a time.

I have been favoured with a visit from Mr. Lyttelton on his way toward Frankley," she pursued turning to the priest, " who brings terrible tidings of affairs in London. The plot which was deemed to have blown over has been revived. Godfrey's murder is laid to the Papists, and the King has been forced into issuing a proclamation ordering all Catholics, who are not householders, to quit London forthwith, and even a Scottish regiment has been marched off to a distance of forty miles from the capital. Lord Shaftesbury is heading the cry, and Titus Oates, Tonge, and all their crew are the heroes of the hour." "Deo Gratias, I ought to say from the bottom of my heart," rejoined Father Wall, "since we priests shall assuredly be the first victims of the persecution, and God granteth us an opportunity to win an eternal crown of glory without difficulty."

" O Father ! " exclaimed the young lady, who had hitherto remained silent, " do you really think that they will martyr the priests ? " " It is meet that we should be the first to suffer, since the good shepherd is he who layeth down his life for the sheep." " Nay," cried the elder dame, " but you should remember, Father, that on your life hangs the salvation of us all, and that if we lose our priest we lose the holy sacraments, and that hundreds of poor souls will suffer for lack of your ministrations. I hope, good sir," she pursued turning to Gervase, whose presence they seemed to have forgotten for the moment, "that we may rely upon your honour, as a cavalier and a gentleman, not to betray one syllable of what has fallen from our lips, and that this Father's existence will rest a profound secret in your hands.

Your kinsfolk in these parts are, I grieve to tell you, among the most zealous opponents to our religion, and if they had the slightest clue to his presence in this house we should fall an instant prey to their pursuivants and suffer the direst penalties of the law." "Madam," returned Sacheverill warmly, " you may rely upon my secresy. I would not for the world betray either this good priest, who has so kindly acted as my guide, or the noble ladies whom I see before me. Indeed, to say the truth, although I have been brought up as a Protestant, I have never felt otherwise than favourably inclined towards your faith and have many times secretly wished that it had pleased God that I should have been born of Catholic parents and so have been trained in that religion despite the obloquy and persecution which its profession entails upon its adherents."