The Gown and the Man: a story of troubled times

Front matter

THE GOWN AND THE MAN A THE GOWN AND THE MAN A STORY OF TROUBLED TIMES, BY PRESTER ST GEORGE LONDON: DIGBY, LONG & CO., 1 8 BOUVERIE ST. FLEET STREET CONTENTS PAGE CHAP. I. DESPOTIC RULE 7 CHAP. II. DIVERGENT VIEWS . . . .24 CHAP. III. DECIDED STEPS . . " . -39 CHAP. IV. BLIGHTED HOPES . . . . fO CHAP. V. GATHERING CLOUDS . . . . 60 CHAP. VI. TRANSIENT JOYS . . . -72 CHAP. VII. STORMY DAYS . . . . .82 CHAP. VIII. FORMER TIMES 106 CHAP. IX. RELIGIOUS ZEAL . . . . Il8 CHAP. X. AUTHORISED SPORTS . . . -139 CHAP. XI. INCIPIENT LOVE . . . -151 CHAP. XII. DEADLY HATE 1 77 CHAP. XIII. MARSTON FIGHT . . . . I92 CHAP. XIV. FAITHFUL FRIENDS .... 203 CHAP. XV. SECULAR LIFE . . . . . 2l8 CHAP. XVI. PERILOUS DEPTHS . 236 CHAP. XVII. MARTIAL BONDS .... 247 CHAP. XVIII. DARKEST NIGHT . . . ' . 275 CHAP. XIX. GLIMMERING DAWN .... 296 CHAP. XX. EXPANDING LIGHT . . . . 318 CHAP. XXI. PERFECT DAY

Chapter I Despotic Rule

The coach from Staffordshire had been four and twenty hours upon the road when it lumbered into the yard of a London hostelry. It was early morning, and the city was not yet astir. As the passengers alighted, each one drew a sigh of relief, and stretched his cramped limbs by pacing heavily for a few seconds upon the cobbles. The tramp of many feet and the cries of the ostlers, awakened echoes in the yard, which reached to the street beyond. The times were unsettled, and robbers often appeared upon the roads. It was therefore not surprising that on this particular morning in the year 1637 there were no women among the passengers, and that some of the men were armed. Amongst those who had arrived by the coach there was one who had little in his appearance to distinguish him, beyond the facts that he was young, and wore the bands of a clergyman.

Entering the inn, he partook of the breakfast which had been quickly prepared, and, leaving his small valise in the care of the landlord, he sallied forth into the street. Once out upon the pavement he seemed in no great hurry to proceed, but sauntered on, inquiring his way of the few people he met, until he stood in front of a large stone building, its long solid walls, heavy gate, and narrow, strongly-barred windows being the legible characters which proclaimed it a gaol. Here he loitered for nearly an hour, until the streets became peopled, and the business of the city was beginning. He then knocked loudly at the massive gate of the prison. After some time the heavy door was opened, and, when he had passed through, it was again secured with ponderous bolts and lock. ' What may be your business ? ' asked the janitor. ' There is a prisoner here named John Whitehead,' said the clergyman, ' and he is sick.' ' That may be so, for there be many sick prisoners here.

Have you an authorisation to see him ? ' ' No, I have not, but I think the Governor will not deny me access to him.' ' Happen they will not deny a parson. But you must wait till I call an officer.' It was long before the officer appeared, but at last the visitor was confronted by a stout, good-natured-looking man in a half-military uniform, who said inquiringly, ' You wish to visit a sick man ? Is he one of your flock ? ' ' He is, or rather he was once.' ' Ah ! to be sure, a wandering sheep. Well, I hope you will bring him back into the fold. You may follow me. What is his name ? ' The name being repeated, they walked on, passing through many dark passages and up and down several flights of stone steps, the officer meanwhile inquiring diligently from the warders, and being directed by them to different parts of the building.

At last they met with a jailer who informed them that the man they sought had died two days before, and was to be buried that very day in the yard of the prison. ' Too late, too late ! ' murmured the clergyman, ' it is as I feared it would be.' At his request he was admitted to the cell, a dark and wretched place, where, by the aid of a lantern, he was able to identify the body as that of the old parishioner on whose behalf he had undertaken the journey from Burslem. Emerging from the prison, he found the city now wide awake, and he wandered aimlessly for some time about the streets. Then noticing that a steady stream of people seemed to be flowing towards Westminster, he set his face in that direction, and was soon jammed in the midst of a crowd which had gathered about the Ex chequer chamber.

Great was the excitement which prevailed all around him. The case of John Hampden had been argued and wrangled about before twelve judges for six days, and judgment was expected to be delivered that very afternoon. As the people stood waiting they expressed themselves freely to one another with regard to the government in Church and State. Ship-money was denounced by all in no measured terms. Calls for cheers for John Hampden were responded to with hearty good will. All at once the noise ceased, and a man was seen standing upon the steps of the house gesticulating violently. His voice reached the furthest bounds of the crowd as he shouted, 'Victory! Five of the judges have pronounced for Hampden.' The cheers were now reiter ated with greater force and energy than before. ' Make way for the Lord Chief Justice of England ! ' cried the sheriffs officers, as that function ary appeared amid the silence of the throng, and rolled away in his gilded carriage.

Two of the judges met with an ovation as they entered their carriages and drove away ; but Hampden himself was sought for in vain. A rush was made towards the fields hard by, and the clergyman yielded himself to the current. From an extemporised ' rostra ' an orator was declaiming, and just as the clerical wanderer arrived within earshot, the words were being uttered : ' Forsooth, have we not fair ground for suspiciousness ? What man is there among us who vieweth not all papistry with loathing and mistrust ? The Litany mis seemeth me much, but I would pleasurably use it if that old word were restored, " From the Bishop of Rome and all his detestable enormities, Good Lord deliver us." We seek not to minish the king's prerogative, and truly would we see England great upon the seas, but we will give to ourselves no rest until the ancient right of the people be established, to tax themselves and to give counsel by their representatives for the expending of the grants which they give.' The speaker now gave place to another, — a well-favoured man of jovial countenance and of considerable corporal dimensions, who looked round with much complacency, and began to speak in calm and measured tones. ' Friends and fellow - subjects ! lend me your ears, else the archbishop will soon have them, for he hath already a goodly collection, and his word runneth quickly through the land, saying, " He that hath ears to shear, let him fear."

Oh, the archbishop is a great man ! Laud ye his name ! ' But though the cardin — I mean the archbishop — is to be had in reverence, he is still a man. What say ye of the king his master? His Most Gracious Majesty (God save him) is — what ? Ah ! ye are silent, as indeed becometh lowly subjects of this realm. Well, let it pass, the king is— what he is. Whence cometh our right to breathe his sacred name, much less to call his acts in question, as some have even dared to do. It is for us to obey, and if need be, to be led like lambs to the slaughter. Who are we that we should dare to oppose the will of the king? Bring forth the Pyms and the Hampdens and deliver them over to the tormentors. To the king we belong by divine right. Not our ears alone are his, but our noses, our hands, our heads, our families and all our property.

No ? do ye say no ? Presumptuous knaves ! Here ye then what Lord Chief Justice Finch and six other wise, just, and independent judges say upon this matter. I read to you the judgment pronounced this day — yes, this very day, " Acts of Parliament to take away the king's royal power in defence of his kingdom are void, or Acts to bind the king not to command the subjects, their persons, their property — aye, and their money too — for no Acts of Parliament make any difference." Now do ye say No ? Oh, what glorious privileges are ours ! Who would not gladly go naked and hungry that the king and the queen may be clothed in purple and fine linen, and may fare sumptuously every day ? Who among you is not proud to support the glorious company of holy priests who sit at the queen's table ? What meaneth all this ado about ship-money ?

Let the king take all. Why not ? True our forefathers taxed themselves through their representatives, but their ways were cumber some and they themselves poltroons. Let us be men, and empty all our little stores at the feet of his Majesty, thankful that we are permitted to live and to minister to the dignity of the throne. Whist ! here come the constables, and I must shut my mouth or I shall lose my ears.' The constables now came up in a body and the crowd dispersed. The young clergyman having left the field arrived in front of the Whitehall Palace, where a large concourse of people had assembled. Foot soldiers in considerable numbers were on guard about the palace. Soon the word was passed from mouth to mouth, ' The queen ! the queen ! ' and the royal coach, surrounded by horse soldiers, was driven slowly out of the courtyard.

The queen was seen sitting erect in the carriage, with a Romish priest by her side, and two others of the same fraternity occupying the seat opposite to her. 'Hats off!' called a loud voice, but not one among the crowd obeyed the summons. The people stood in perfect silence for a while, but suddenly a man who was just at the side of the clergyman called out loudly, ' Down with the queen's parasites ! ' and another voice from a distance shouted in response, ' Away with the menials of Antichrist ! ' Murmurs of assent arose, together with some hissing, upon which, the queen's coach having passed out of the way, the foot-soldiers charged with much violence amongst the crowd. The young clerical spectator was pushed down in the tumult, and before he had fairly realised the situation, he was in the custody of the soldiers.

With several other prisoners he was marched off to the nearest gaol. When they were nearing their destination, an elderly man with long white hair, stood and gazed curiously at the supposed rioters. The rich gold-braided cloak of this man, his silk stockings and large silver buckles, showed him to belong to an affluent station. A look of recogni tion and astonishment appeared in his face as his eye caught that of the clerical prisoner, and he quickly advanced towards him. He was, however, kept off by the soldiers, who dragged the captives through the archway, and closed the gate behind them. The prisoners were placed in a room together, where they sat dejectedly, hardly a word passing between them. B They had spent some time thus quietly, when a loud voice was heard outside, and the door being immediately thrown open, the white-headed gentleman strode in, and seizing the hand of the clergyman, exclaimed, 'What ho!

Mister Stan brook, how come you to be placed thus ? ' ' Ah ! Sir Hubert, I cannot tell. I stood innocently enough to watch the queen's pageant, when I found myself in the hands of the guards.' ' How strange it seems to see you so far from home, and in such a plight. Surely I can do something to save you from this horrible place. When must you be back with your flock in the country ? ' ' I reached London by coach only this morning, and I must, if possible, travel homewards by the coach which sets forth to-morrow night. I ought to be set at liberty at once, for I have done nothing amiss.' ' I shall do all that in me lies to hasten your release. Have you any further business requiring attention in London? If they keep you here till late to-morrow, it might be well that I should have your business attended to.' ' No, I thank you.

I have nothing now to detain me except these bonds. I came to try to help a man out of prison, and now I have to look to others for my own release.' ' Well, I trust you have had success in your undertaking.' ' No, poor John Whitehead had been already released when I reached the prison this morning, for his spirit had returned to God who gave it. He was very ill, and his friends in Burslem wished me to plead for him to the archbishop, but I was too late.' ' In what had he offended ? ' ' He wrote against illegal taxation. He was a native of Burslem, but came to London some years ago, where he was very successful as a physician, until he fell under the displeasure of the archbishop, when by sentence of the Star Chamber, he lost everything, his ears included, and was left to die in prison.' ' Foolish, misguided man !

But I must go, or perhaps you will be left to a similar fate.' ' But can you do nothing for these ? ' said the clergyman, looking around upon his fellowprisoners. ' I shall do my utmost to have them brought to trial, but that is all I can promise. Ah ! they are doubtless all movers of sedition. Pity it is that you adventured yourself into such bad company.' ' Bad company ! ' cried one of the men, rising excitedly from his stool, ' if we be bad com pany then is the whole land rotten to the core, for there be many patriots in every county who have no mind to live in slavery.' ' Slavery, say you ? You are of those who would reduce your king to slavery. But, bah ! it is fruitless to hold argument with such as you. Now, Mister Stanbrook, I must away, but I hope to come back before long to claim your dis charge.' And the speaker shook the clergyman's hand and departed.

After some hours a jailer appeared, and took away the clergyman to a separate cell, in which he was locked for the night. A meal of bread and water lay upon a low stool, and a sack was spread for a bed upon the stone floor. He partook of the food greedily, and, being quite worn out with fatigue, he lay down and slept soundly all through the night. It was late in the afternoon of the following day when the baronet appeared, but the smile which beamed upon his ruddy face showed plainly that he had met with success. He de scribed the difficulties he had encountered in procuring the official discharge, which he now waved triumphantly before the eyes of his young friend. ' Though I fully explained the blunder, and pledged my word that the king has no subject more loyal than you, they were wonderful loath to let you go.' ' Are the others to be brought to trial ? ' asked the released man as he left the prison with his deliverer. 'Well, I cannot yet say.

There are so many seditious persons in prison in these days that it would be unwise to give them all a trial.' ' But what saith Magna Charta ? ' ' Bah ! what need of process of law to deal with sedition and heresy ? But I go not home to the castle for some days, and meanwhile I will most surely seek to gain a trial for your late fellow-captives.' Before they parted they enjoyed together a substantial dinner in a hostelry at the baronet's expense, and when Stanbrook was left alone, the hour at which the coach was timed to start was drawing rapidly on. He took his seat in due course, and his spirits rose as the distance increased betwixt himself and the disquieted capital. Burslem being reached, he sought out the family of John Whitehead, who were in consolable at the news he brought them. He was fortunate enough to light upon a farmer's cart from his own parish, and to be by it conveyed to his own parsonage at Bidfold. His eventful visit to the metropolis was not soon forgotten by him, nor were its lessons unheeded.

Chapter II Divergent Views

' Abel,' said Mistress Stanbrook to her husband as they sat together in the little parlour of the parson age, ' I wish you did not meet Mister Lockett so often for I am sure it can do no good.' It was a winter's evening, and the year 1640 had just begun its course. There was a fire upon the hearth, into which Stanbrook was gazing ab stractedly when his wife's words interrupted the train of his thoughts. ' But, my dear Rebecca,' he answered, ' you forget that Daniel Lockett is one of the wardens of the parish, and it is quite necessary for us to meet.' 'That would be all very well if you discussed only the affairs of the parish,' she replied in a reproving tone. ' But why should you make yourself uneasy if we do talk about something else. Come now, do not pucker your face into wrinkles because I spend a little time in talking to a friend.' ' But you discuss politics with him, and it is well known that both he and his wife hold extreme views.

It is not discreet of you, Abel, as the minister of this parish.' 'Why not? If he is extreme, all the more reason why I should try to influence him with my more moderate views.' ' But why should you meddle with politics at all ? So far, you have not been interfered with ; but, if your loyalty becomes suspected, you will lose your benefice, as so many have done already, and what then will become of your wife and daughter, to say nothing of your self? ' ' My dear, you must not forget that it is our Christian duty to act according to con science at any risk, and to trust God for future provision. ' Don't talk to me about conscience ! What has conscience to do with it? I am only a woman, and I cannot enter into the theories with which you trouble your head. But, pray, what possible difference can it make to us whether the king's authority is divine, or patri archal, or derived from the people?

Besides, how can it affect the common weal whether we are governed by the king or by a parliament? It seems to me even better that the king should rule alone, for it gives him occupation, and saves the country from the expense and turmoil of those troublesome elections. It is true that things go hardly with such men as Mister Lockett, but if the king could only gather the proper taxes we should hear nothing of " forced loans " and " benevolences " and all the other con trivances he is obliged to adopt. This may not be politics, but it is common sense, and it would be well for you if you would think so.' ' Well, Rebecca,' answered the husband thought fully, 'you know very well that I cannot agree with your sentiments, but for your sake and for the sake of our little darling, I will try to act with discretion.' Stanbrook had other motives for this resolution.

He felt himself indebted to Sir Hubert Grainger, the squire of the parish, an ardent supporter of absolute monarchy, who had presented him to the living five years before. Previous to that his life had been a struggle. Sprung from a faded family, and born in the humbler ranks of society, he had been obliged to leave the Grammar School of his native town in Lancashire at a very early age. He had known little of boyish recreations, his craving for information leading him to study deeply at a time when several hours of each day were employed in the scrivener's work of a counting-house in the town. By the aid of a small patrimony, he had at length been able with the utmost frugality to pass the necessary time at Cambridge, afterwards being ordained as assistant curate to the Vicar of Burslem. Here he had attracted the attention of a friend of Sir Hubert's, and had hence been promoted, at the age of twenty-five, to the Vicarage of Bidfold.

Holding the opinion that the parson of a parish ought to be a married man, he had at once looked about him for a suitable wife. All things con spired to direct his choice to a certain lady of his own age, whom he had often met during the two years which he had spent in the little pottery town. Without any romantic interlude, he had immediately offered her his hand and heart, which were at once accepted by the lady in the same candid spirit. They were married, and she had proved a good, shrewd, practical, domesticated wife. A daughter had been born to them, who was now four years old, and was the apple of her father's eye. By nature and habit he was earnest and thoughtful, while the expression of his deep blue eyes testified alike to the tenderness and firmness of his character. Many thought him vacillating and weak because he was invariably conciliatory, and gave expression to no strong opinions.

In reality, however, he had formed deep convictions and his reticence did not arise from any lack of self-confidence, but only from his rooted dislike to self-assertion. The little church of Bidfold was not beautiful, but it was dear to the people, many departed generations of parishioners having worshipped within its walls. It stood within a wide enclosure, its west front being but a few yards from the road, while, extending far on its other sides, mounds and tombstones preserved the memory of the precious dead. Beyond the sacred enclosure and a little to the north of the church, the pretty ivy-clad parsonage could be seen from the road, whence it could be reached only by a bridle path along the north side of the churchyard fence. It was but a short time after Mistress Stan brook's remonstrance with her husband when a lady knocked at the door of the parsonage and was ushered into the little parlour, where she awaited the appearance of the mistress of the house.

The caller was young, and as she stood in the centre of the room, soberly and warmly clad, her cheeks glowing through contact with the fro^y air, she looked a picture of healthy and energetic womanhood. Soon Mistress Stanbrook entered the room, the shy expression of her eyes and the slight flush upon her cheeks as she received her visitor, betray ing her homely disposition and habits. The ladies having greeted cordially were soon engaged in conversation. ' Daniel wanted to speak to your good man,' said the visitor, ' so I walked over with him, for I was sure I should find you in-doors and could have a quiet talk with you while our men discussed their affairs ; though for that matter their affairs are ours as well. Are they not ? ' ' Well, yes, of course ; but I do not care about politics, and I cannot see why our men should trouble themselves so much about things that have to be borne.' ' Oh ! that's just like you, Mistress Stanbrook, but you know I do not look at things as you do.

Such things ought not to be borne, and I should call our men craven cowards if they did bear them quietly.' ' Well, well, perhaps you are right. But where did you leave Mister Lockett? Has he met my Abel ? ' ' Yes, we met him in the road, and I left them together and walked on to see you.' ' Thank you ; but I hope the men will counsel wisely, for I am tormented with fears lest Abel should do something rash.' While Mistress Stanbrook was speaking, another visitor arrived at the parsonage, and the two ladies now rose to receive Lady Grainger from the castle close by. She was a little spare woman, wrinkled with age and anxiety. With a thin tremulous voice she greeted both ladies, and then turned to Mrs Lockett. ' Is it true that you and your husband are about to embark for the New World ? It seems a dreadful thing to do, and so soon after your marriage.' ' No, Lady Grainger, it is not true.

Would that it were ! But the king has forbidden our leaving England, and he is making our life more intolerable every day. We are to have popery in our churches and poverty in our homes. The trade of the district is well-nigh ruined through the monopolies. A dear friend of my husband in London has just been condemned to stand in the pillory and to have his ears cropped, as well as to pay a heavy fine for daring to protest against the king's unlawful exactions ; while my husband himself has received the royal command to accept the honour of knighthood or be visited with a heavy fine. Why, my lady, I would rather submit to stand in the pillory with my nose slit and ears cropped all the rest of my days than consent to be dubbed Lady Lockett upon such terms. Oh, it is quite time,' she added warmly, 'that the king were taught that he reigns over free men and not slaves.' ' Oh, Mistress Lockett,' interposed her ladyship, ' how can you talk so ?

Is it not very wicked to say such things of our king ? The baronet, my husband, says that the king reigns by divine right, and to speak against him is to speak against God. But I do not pretend to know much about it myself. I am sure that when Mister Stanbrook in his sermon last Sunday touched upon " the rights of the subject," I thought he spoke very fairly and kindly, but Sir Hubert was very angry, and said that clergymen ought C rather to teach their people that subjects have no rights — but I'm sure I don't know.' ' Oh, my lady,' broke in Mrs Stanbrook, ' I am so sorry that Sir Hubert was displeased with the sermon, for I am sure my husband did not mean to speak against the king ; but, you know the people expect that he should show them their duty, and he is only too anxious to lead them aright.' ' Yes, yes, I know he means well,' replied Lady Grainger, ' and I am sure I sympathise deeply with him, but I wish he could be persuaded to give up speaking about such things, for I very much fear that trouble will come of it.

To say truth, my object in visiting you to-day was to try through you to induce him to avoid giving further offence. Pray forgive me if I presume in saying this. I cannot tell which side is right, and I only wish to see the people at peace.' ' Ah, well, my lady,' said Mrs Lockett, ' we may trust Mister Stanbrook to say nothing that will stir up ill feelings, but how can men help taking sides in these evil days? The whole country is in commotion, and no little country parish, even here in the heart of the Midlands, escapes the king's tyranny.' ' I pray you, do not say such things ! ' cried Lady Grainger as she rose to go, a pained expression overspreading her features. ' I am old-fashioned, and it shocks my sensibilities to hear people speak against the king.' . Having taken leave of the ladies in a gentle, friendly manner, she left the house, and slowly retraced her steps homewards, passing into the castle grounds through a gate which opened out of the bridle path at the side of the parsonage.

Meanwhile, the ladies had caught sight from the window of the vicar and his friend, who were pacing slowly to and fro in the churchyard, absorbed in conversation. They were both young, their age being about thirty, but, apart from this identity, there was little in common in their appearance ; for Lockett was tall and well built, bearing a commanding presence, while the clergyman was scarcely of medium height, delicate in form and pale of countenance. They both wore doublets with broad linen collars at the neck, knee breeches and broad brimmed felt hats with high crowns. But Lockett's fine grey cloth, jack-boots and stout leather waist-belt, stood out in contrast with the parson's rough black doublet, long bands, coarse woollen girdle, frieze hose and buckled shoes. ' How serious they look ! ' said Mrs Lockett, as she tapped at the window playfully ; and, being answered by a nod and a smile from her husband, she added, ' Why, he really smiled !