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alice lisle: a tale of puritan times

b.a. rev. r. king · 1860 · Scanned text · Free in the US

70,125 words · about 4 h 55 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
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Licence: PD-US · Published 1860 (before 1884; date from the PleIAs English-PD record). The dataset curator states the whole collection is public domain in all regions (curator assertion, not independently verified); treated as public domain in the US.

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About this book

Author
b.a. rev. r. king
Language
English
Published
1860
Length
70,125 words · about 4 h 55 min
Sections
7 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain in the United States

 

Contents (7)
  1. Front matter about 2 min
  2. Chapter I about 12 min
  3. Chapter II about 9 min
  4. Chapter III about 12 min
  5. Chapter IV about 14 min
  6. Chapter V about 14 min
  7. CHAPTER VI. The wounded men improved rapidly under Dr about 3 h 52 min

Continue:

Front matter

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Chapter I

1^ few countries of the old world have changes been more rapid and varied than in England. Dress, manners, and even language, have undergone many alterations, and, as a matter of course, our dwellings have changed with the fancies or improved condition of their owners. The increasing wealth of families and a widely-extended commerce have added to the comforts of life, until the labourer enjoys and esteems as a necessary of life much that was denied to the noble of earlier times. !From having been a purely agricultural people, exporting our wool for the active artisans of the Low Countries, we have become the greatest traders of the world. Houses and lands have changed their owners and their names; new roads have replaced the byeways along which the traveller, until very late times, moved at the risk of his life. The waggons which supplanted the packhorses, and conveyed merchandise to the ports, have yielded to canals and railroads, which like a network intersect the country, and almost annihilate our ideas of distance and space. A few baronial halls, shorn of their former extent, yet improved by modem art, exist, as if to tell the story of bygone days, and of the nobles who ruled the country with more than regal power. Here and there, too, we find an old fortified house, which by its massive strength and watch-towers reminds us of the watchfulness in which our forefathers lived, and the care that was requisite to protect life and property.

It is one of these houses that we are about to describe. Massively built with large stones hewn from a neighbouring quarry, it was more in the character of a fortress than a house: the windows were small and admitted little light ; the centre hall, which opened at once from the outer door, was the dwelling-room of the family ; dark passages ran along the back of the house leading to stone stairs, which led to galleries divided by heavy oak wainscot into sleeping-rooms, or stores. Pour towers at irregular distances served as a means of offence to an approaching enemy, or as places of retreat if the walls should be scaled. A moat extended round the outer walls, and prevented all approach except under the gateway-tower, pierced on all sides to command the drawbridge; the moat was always deepened on any threatening of war, and the walls were shorn of ivy, or any creeping plants that might assist in an escalade.

At the time of which we are writing the watch-towers had long been used as barns and outhouses ; dogs were kept in them to announce the approach of intruders. As evening drew on, the cattle were driven in from the pastures, and milked in rude sheds reared against the inner sides of the walls. In the early spring the ewes were brought home by the shepherds.

A TALE OP PTJBITAir TIMES. 3

and the young lambs reared by the servants of the house. Work ended, the farm-labourers and shepherds came and seated themselves by the glowing log, or in summer time round the great oak table in the hall, when the rude jokes of the village were retailed, and the newest scandal was repeated. Occasionally a traveller was added to the family circle, and he was ever a welcome guest, for he brought news from the town, and from the great world from which they seemed to be cut off. They heard where the king had been ; how matters were going on at the Hague; whether there was to be war with France; and to this was added London news, then, even more than now, the centre of trade and of intercourse with foreign countries.

The interior of the house displayed none of the care of modem times; everything was scrupulously clean, but the furniture was scanty, and evidently intended for use, rather than ornament. In the hall stood one or more oak tables, with a heavy form on each side, and a settle was placed on either side of the huge fireplace; under the beam called the traby sat the master and mistress; the former, as a religious man, read the Bible or Fox's "Book of Martyrs," while the mistress and her maids knitted stockings or wound the wool. The wealthy yeoman displayed an array of bright metal dishes on the shelves of the dressers, and beneath these were ranged in order wooden platters for more common use. A large chest, adorned with grotesque figures, and with the owner's cipher, was used to keep the more precious garments, or the best linen of the house;

and this, with a few more stools, completed the furniture of the hall.

The upper chambers were worse provided : the labourers lay down to rest upon straw; one, or at most two, large oak bedsteads, which had descended from generation to generation, filled the room ; a table and a stool were the only additions, if we except the bedding, an object of great value and care in most houses. There was a haunted chamber, where no one ever did or ever could sleep, and by which not children alone, but men and women, passed with a quick step and light tread.

There was very little difference in the outward appearance of the yeoman and the labourer; their intercourse with each other was constant, and they were widely separated from the town population. They took their meals at the same table, and were served from the same dish. Bread and meat was the midday meal, and at morning and evening huge bowls of mDk and brown bread were the almost invariable . diet. The Eeformation had begun to diffuse a desire for improved education ; the more religious of the yeomen required grace to be said before meals, and prayers were said in the evening before they parted for rest. Those who liked the form of prayers set forth for the Church of England used portions of the Book of Common Prayer, and said the Psalms appointed for the day's service; others, and a large number they were, whose minds had been stirred by the excitement of constant religious discussion, used extempore prayers, long, not always reverent, but full of that energy of expression which accom-

A TALE OF FUBITAK TIMES.

panics the outpourings of a devout but badly educated mind.

Among the number of those who had been stirred by the new teaching was Joseph Q-ifford. He had been taught early to read the Bible, and his enthusiastic disposition led him to treasure up the terrible denunciations against sin with which the Bible abounds. He read the history of Israers fall, and applied it to his own country, and his austere disposition rejoiced in the changes which he saw going on around him. Puritanism was making rapid strides ; and he framed his own house, as he said, on the Christian model. He forbad oaths, then frightfully common; he prevented idle conversation, and exchanged the rude songs of the labourers for hymns and psalms, which he taught them orally ; he ceased £rom frequenting the taverns on market-days, and attended an exposition of the Scripture from some gifted minister. There was a change in the conversation conformably, as was thought, to the requirement of the Apostles ; and Scripture names and terms were introduced into every-day life. But Joseph Q-ifford not only assumed an outward appearance of religion, he endeavoured to live up to his profession, and largely helped the poor of his own and neighbouring parishes.

Mary Gifford was the very opposite to her husband, — small in figure, but active ; she was cheerful as the day, and in her high spirits would often forget the strictness of the Sunday, and begin to tell stories of the great Elizabeth, in whose court her father had been a servant. She was an ardent admirer of royalty ; and, without understanding the reason, concluded that with its downfall would come England's decay. The good Queen Bess was an endless theme for praise, and wonderful were the stories told of her preparations to meet the Armada.

After his conversion, as Joseph Gifford called the change in the conduct of his house, for he did not change his religious opinions, Mary was occasionally rebuked for her warm advocacy of the court, and for approving their profane conduct.

There was a great change in G-ifford, for with his new religious views he had adopted republican opinions; and he cherished them more strongly from the danger of uttering them.

He had stories of Elizabeth, but they were of the suspicions which will always attach to her character, of her tyrannical temper ; he admired her as the conqueror of the Spaniards, he abhorred her as a follower of Baal, a lover of Popish superstitions ; and at length Mary was compelled to yield to his stem denunciations. Puritanism reigned throughout the house, and the king's name was seldom mentioned but with disrespect.

One child, the last of three, two having died in infancy, remained to give brightness to the Q-iffords' home, and Alice Q-ifford was a source of daily happiness to both parents. To her, the father would unbend and relax his features into a smile, for her he would bring home the early flowers of spring, and teach her that there was one Almighty power who created the world and all that is therein. As she grew in years he instructed her in the faith of a Christian, and often puzzled the child with the deeper mysteries of

A TALE OF FTJBITAN TIMES.

the Puritan doctrines. So long as the family went to church, Alice was questioned on her return on the sermon, and on the lessons appointed for the day's service. Even the few pence which were given her she was encouraged to give again in alms to the poor; and every endeavour was used to train her mind in the Puritan discipline.

Mary did not like the manner in which her child was brought up, but she yielded to her husband : yet she would, when alone, tell Alice the tales of former days; of the King Henry who had destroyed the monasteries, of the boy-king Edward, of the Protector Somerset, and of the Queen's court, in which her father, she proudly said, had served; now and then she added a fairy tale, or a legend of the neighbourhood. Mary was never idle, and the little Alice was trained early to work; she could knit and sew. In the long winter evenings she spun by the side of her mother, or listened to her father reading the Scriptures. Eair, and very gentle, the child seemed to be the good spirit of the house; she had her father's good sense and deep religious feelings, but she had her mother's cheerful and lively disposition, which enabled her to look on the bright side of life ; and often, when oppressed by his own moody disposition or gloomy forebodings, would the child call back her father to cheerfulness, and almost happiness, by her vivacity and childish mirth.

The death of James I. of England and YI. of Scotland had placed Charles I. upon the throne, and the Puritan party, although kept down by the avowed dislike of Queen Elizabeth and the hatred of King

8 ALICE ltsle:

James, began to feel their power, and in gprowing numbers to speak of ttieir grievances ia anything but the language of suppliants. The King was called an ^g^; ^^6 followers of his court were Amalekites; the bishops were children of Baal, and those who favoured them were Prelatists; the Scriptures were ransacked for epithets, and every curse was uttered in the language of Scripture, with a solemnity which at least evinced sincerity. Gifford entered into all the movements of his party ; his wife knew nothing of his plans; naturally reserved, he became more thoughtful than ever; he spoke less of political matters; and although more frequently at market, it was evident that he went to town more often to hear sermons. Mary observed, among the visitors to the Grange, many faces that she had never seen before; in the day time the new friends rode out with her husband, but in the evening there was always a religious discussion, which few could understand: the election of grace, the reprobation of the guilty, the number of the elect, the marks by which the elect chQdren were known, the absurdity of forms in religious worship, or the necessity of a purely spiritual religion, were eagerly canvassed ; often stories of the cruelty of Papists and Prelatists were added to give zest to the tales.

Not long after the accession of King Charles, a

change took place in the Bector of Batcombe ; and one

of the new men, as the Puritans called the Church

party, was appointed to the rectory. Mr. Wentworth

aught the doctrine of the divine right of kings, and

le duty of entire obedience to the royal power;

A TALE OF PUBITAN TIMES. 9

politics were often introduced into the sermons, and the doctrines which they would hardly have endured from their old Rector were scoifed at from the mouth of a young and inexperienced man. Their former Eector, although a royalist from principle, had little sympathy with the fierce controversies which raged around him. He tended the sick and dying with fidelity ; he warned the young men against the excesses so prevalent on all sides ; he disliked the Calvinistic doctrines then spreading in every direction ; and he had seen Gifibrd's gradual decline from Church communion with feelings of deep regret.

Before his death he sent for Giffbrd, and warned him of the consequences of his opinions. "I have long known," he said, " that with your new opinions on religion you have also adopted new views of political government. I have not spoken of this to any one. I have endeavoured to preach peace ; but, alas, I have cried Peace, and there is no peace." Gifibrd endeavoured to comfort the old Eector with hopes of better days, and spoke with fervour of his own religious views, and his hope that their Eector was leaving a world of sorrow for rest and peace.

"True," said the Rector, "I shall leave this wilderness, where I have toiled for nearly thirty years. But, Giffbrd, you remain ; and believe my last words, when you cease to respect religion because of mere matters of opinion, you will first overthrow the Altar, and then cast down the Throne."

. Giffbrd did not reply : the Eector knew more than he thought any person had known of his opinions; and he was aware of the distress which it would cause many of his friends, whenever he acted openly, and cast off, as he intended to do, all respect for the Church and its teaching. He did not know fear ; but he foresaw that the triumph of his principles would inflict suffering on many whom he had long esteemed as friends. The aged Eector's words were not forgotten, and for some time he did not go to town. An incident, trifling in itself, aroused Gifford : he had invited some of his neighbours to hear him read a volume of sermons which had been printed by a neighbouring Puritan minister: many went to hear him ; until at length it came to the ears of the new Bector. Mr. Wentworth resolved to interfere, and told Gifford that he was breaking the law, in presuming to take upon himself the office of teacher.

" I do," said Gifford, " in my own house ; it is my castle, and I have always read the Word of God there, and I will."

" Yes, to your own family," replied Mr. "Wentworth.

"And to my friends, to any perishing souls, in spite of any one."

"No, Master Gifford," said "Wentworth, "not in spite of me : if there are any perishing souls, they can come to church."

" To church !" said Gifford, sneeringly ; " to church, indeed !"

"Yes," replied Mr. Wentworth ; "to that church in which your fathers worshipped."

" And where I will never worship again," rejoined Gifford.

Mr. Wentworth left the Grange, and they who night have been good neighbours, for both possessed

A TALE OF PITEITAir TIMES. 11

good qualities, were, by the misfortunes of the times, irreconcilable enemies. Gifford had resolved to devote all his energies to the destruction of the Frelatists ; and Wentworth, an active man, was bound by interest, as well as by feeling, to maintain the existing government. He was not better prepared than his party generally were for the strength of the Puritans ; they bad ministers in every town, and friends in almost every village. It is true that there were laws in the statute-book, and magistrates ready to execute those laws, but there was a spirit which, when once aroused, can seldom be subdued. It was vain to reason with men who answered arguments by asserting a divine call ; who, if taunted with rebellion, answered that they were no more rebels than those who successfully but partially reformed the Church : they would make a clean sweep of all abuses, and deliver the Church and the nation from popish and prelatical rulers.

Chapter II

GiFEOBD became well known as an active leader of the Puritan party in Batcombe ; his influence was considerable, and he extended it daily by a consistent life and unflinching support of his own party. The question of ship-money began to be mooted in the country districts, and although many murmured, few had the boldness to follow Hampden's example, and refuse payment. When the demand was made on Gifford, he refused to pay ; his wife, who was present, urged him strongly to pay a demand which it would cost twenty times as much to resist.

"Yes, Mary," he said, " but you do not understand that the demand is illegal, and therefore I refuse it."

" It is for the King's use, and for the King's navy. Pay it, Joseph," said Mary ; *'you say it is not lawful, but—''

"But, Mary," said Gifford, "it is not a woman's duty to contradict."

Mary was silent, and sorrowful.

He then said, " I refuse to pay the demand ; and I will never pay it unless forced to do so." The collector, a neighbouring farmer, left him, and tried to induce some of his ftieuds to influence him to obey the royal authority.

It was all in vain ; Gifford knew the value of consistency, and he told his friends, as he had told his family, that he bad counted the cost, that he would prefer imprisonment and loss, rather than submit to an unjust demand.

After a short interval a process was issued, and the sheriff appointed a day for the sale of the stock which had been seized. When the morning of sale drew on the roads in the neighbourhood gave signs of some movement, and the two parties saw that there would be a demonstration at the Grange. The King's party mustered that there might be a sale ; the yeomen to prevent, if possible, the sale of the cattle ; and if not able to do that, then they intended to annoy the Durchasers and intimidate the authorities by their rs and bold bearing. Gifford was silent, he en care to avoid any breach of the law be-

A TALE OF PTTEITAir TIMES. 13

yond refusing the levy. He treated the men who had charge of the cattle with kindness ; he afforded the officers opportunity to shew the cattle, and thus won for himself the esteem of his friends, and excited more than he had ever done before the fears of his enemies. The proceedings had been costly, and the Exchequer had not spared Gifibrd; his neighbours saw beast after beast sold to pay a demand for a few shillings. Many gave vent to expressions of disgust and contempt for the royal authority, others, more prudent, were silent, but resolved. The King's party looked on as triumphant, and rallied the Puritans on their want of spirit, but it was a dearly-bought victory. Gifford was benevolent, and the poor thought that he had been robbed of his cattle ; the yeomen viewed him as a defender of their rights, and as one who would suffer an injury rather than silently allow an injustice to be done to his class. His enemies saw only a crafty and designing man, ready to resist the royal authority, and anxious to teach instead of being taught ; they knew that he was clever, for he did not allow himself in any hasty expressions, nor did he allow them to entrap him, as some tried to do, by expressing sympathy with him, in the hope that, when smarting under his loss, he would give them a chance of obtaining evidence of trea.^on against him.

Every one in his household perceived that there was a change in the tone of Gifford's feelings. He had long ceased to attend church, but he now hindered his wife and daughter from going; they had often regretted that Mr. "Wentworth had forsaken their house, where their former Eector was a frequent and

14 ALICE IISLE:

welcome guest, they were now to find that he would not be admitted to the Grange. The Prayer-book was disused and forbidden ; long extempore prayers, sometimes offered by one of the " gifted brethren," — ^who always came on Saturday, as if by chance, — at other times by Giffbrd himself, who always read a sermon during the week, and invited his friends to join with him in prayer, were the only religious services allowed at the Grange. The King was never prayed for, unless in the most insulting language, that he might be delivered from a popish queen and prelatist advisers.

Giffbrd was reserved, and it was with difficulty he could be induced to converse on any subjects not connected with their daily life. He laboured actively on his farm, took his rides with Alice, and left nothing uncared for.

Alice was growing into the young woman, — her fair complexion and habitual good temper won for her the admiration of all the village. She was not beautiful, for you could not fix on any feature and say it was perfect ; but she was so gentle in manner, and so ready to do any act of kindness, that few approached without loving her. It was during one of their rides that Alice surprised her father by saying, after a long silence, " I have been thinking, father, what will be the end of all this."

" All what, Alice ?" said Giff'ord. " We have not spoken a word for a mile, and you suddenly ask what will be the end of all this."

" Oh, I forgot, father," said Alice, laughing, " but

had been thinking of our not going to church,

A TALE OP PITEITAir TIMES. 15

and haying prayers at home, and that the church is every Sunday more empty and our house more full, and that — "

" Tou had better not think about it, my child ; you are too young to understand; and I hope you will never interfere with politics."

" But, father," said Alice, " I am not a child now ; I know why the cattle were sold ; I have often read your books, and I know that they are different from what you used to read, and that you would have no king to govern the country, and no bishops to rule the Church/'

Gifford was startled as if from a dream : he turned and looked at his daughter, and seemed to recognise that she was no longer a child. " Alice, Alice," he said, after a moment, " who told you this ?"

" No one, father, but I have read and thought, and although you never speak to us you are often troubled about these things ; mother does not understand them, but she knows you are very anxious and troubled at times."

" God forgive me, Alice ; I had hoped to keep all these things from you, and to bear my own burden ; it is ordered otherwise; and you shall know, my child, what the Lord has laid upon us : it is His work, and who shall let it ?"

** Father, if it is His work none can hinder it, — that we know."

"No, Alice, and none can hinder this work. In the length and breadth of the land ministers of truth have proclaimed His Word often in fear and trembling, but always in sincerity. The "Word of the Lord has reached many hearts, and the time is come when Zion will no more be desolate; the day of deliverance is at hand."

" Yes, father, there are many godly men who have come to our house, but they have no means of making known the "Word ; they cannot go to the church."

" They cannot now, Alice ; but they may."

" When, father ?"

Gifford sighed, and said slowly, " When it is God's will ; but there will be much tribulation — much tribulation ; fear, and the sword," he muttered.

"The sword, father! who will take the sword?" said Alice.

" What would you say, Alice, if your father took the sword, and if instead of training, as he used to do, for pleasure in his youthful days, he drew his sword in the Lord's battle ?"

" I should be sorry, father, very sorry," said Alice ; " and it would grieve mother almost to death."

" It is the will of the Lord, Alice," said her father.

"I never knew you do wrong, father; and if it were your duty, though I should be sorry, I should pray that you might have victory. I should pray for you, — yes, day and night, — and for your cause ;" but — ^Alice paused. "But if, father, you are deceived, and you fail ?"

" My child, success will bring nothing to your father. It is the Lord's work; and if He blesses the work we shall succeed; if not, Alice, God's will be done."

"Yes, father, God's will be done: I will try to say so."

A TALB OF PTJBITAir TIKES. 17

*' Alice, I did not think that I should have said so much to any one as I have said to you to-day : I will say yet more, that you may know why your father dares to resist the royal power. The King has encroached on our liberties, invaded our rights, and we have resolved rather to die free yeomen, such as our fathers were, than to live at the arbitrary will of one man. I have read the Word, and have often heard what was done in time of old to Amalek, and the nations whom God cast out: the Israelites gat not possession of the land by their own sword, it was the Lord, mighty in battle^ who helped them ; and He will help us."

** But, father, are you sure that there will be war ?" said Alice.

" Yes, Alice, the worst of all wars, — father against son, an4 son against father ; the daughter against her mother, and the mother against her daughter. Alice, where will you be found ?" said Gifford, with affectionate earnest.

"With you for ever, my own dear father: who should I trust if not you, who have been my guide and companion ?" replied Alice.

"The Lord be praised!" said Gifford, deeply affected.

" Father," said Alice, " I have never doubted that you always did right. I was sorry to leave the Church , and mother was more grieved than I ; she says always, 'Your father knows best, Alice, and we must be guided by him.' "

" I have studied to know the will of the Lord," said Gifford, "not of the letter; the letter killeth,

G but the spirit giveth life. Your mother has been a good wife, Alice, and I would have taught her in the same way, but she has loved the old paths; I have prayed often for her, that she might know the Lord's will, and she will one day know it, Alice; she will be among the chosen vessels."

As they were approaching the house, Alice observed that they were deepening the moat, and that the walls had been very recently repaired in several places ; her father smiled, and said, " Alice, you see we are repairing our breaches."

"Yes, father," replied Alice. Quietly and unostentatiously the G-range was strengthened, not only in external appearance, but by a supply of arms, which had been secretly conveyed into the upper rooms. The Parliament increased in boldness, and had given notice to their friends that they intended to try their strength against the Boyalists. Gifford was therefore careful not to allow any one to enter his gates without reason. Within a few days after this conversation with Alice, the drawbridge was raised, and only lowered when needed, and under his own directions ; there were no more country rides ; and Gifford speut much time in strengthening the house, and removing the hay as far as possible from any of the buildings ; the outhouses which had fallen to decay were cut down, and some men who had come in from the town were employed to turn them into firewood. More than a dozen men had come in during the week, and taken their places among the farm-servants, as if they had been hired to do farm-work. Alice noticed that two of them always sat up at night, and her

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