Yorkshire Family Romance Part 8

King Edward I. was celebrating Christmas with the Wakes at Cottingham, when, being out hunting, he came to Wyke-super-Hull, and, struck with its capabilities as a port, granted the charter which laid the foundation of its future greatness, and changed its name to Kingstown-upon-Hull; and at the same time gave his host a charter of free warren over his manor, and authority to erect a gallows for the execution of criminals. Thomas, his son, in the following reign, obtained a charter of confirmation, with the privilege of holding a weekly market and two annual fairs, and authority to convert his residence into a castle of defence, and to garrison it with armed men.

This Thomas founded, adjacent to the castle, a monastery of Austin Friars, on a site with a defective t.i.tle, in consequence of which it was removed to Haltemprice, on another part of the estate.

The feudal barony was held _in capite_ by the service of one barony, and consisted of 4,000 acres, with 200 yearly rental from free tenants.

It was a beautiful August day in the year 1540. The reapers were in the fields about Cottingham, sickle in hand, cutting down the golden corn, and lumbering wains with solid wooden wheels, and drawn by oxen, were carrying away the sheaves to garner in the homesteads; the fruit of a thousand trees in the orchards surrounding the village hung, rich and luscious, pendant from the boughs, and ripening to perfection under the bright suns.h.i.+ne. The village consisted of a scattering of cross-timbered houses with wattled and mud-walled frames, latticed windows, and thatched roofs. From the midst thereof rose in proud and lofty dignity the majestic walls, turrets, and bastions of the Stutevilles, the Wakes, and now of the Holands, surrounded by a moat, which was crossed by a drawbridge, and the entrance defended by a barbican and a portcullis. Upon its battlements might be seen three or four men-at-arms, lounging lazily about, and amusing themselves by watching the pa.s.sage of vessels and boats up and down the Humber. The pleasant clack of the baronial mill, and the occasional uplifted voices of the denizens of the farm-yards and pastures, alone broke the silence of the slumberous summer afternoon. In a hamlet within ken of the out-lookers on the parapets of the castle might be seen the now deserted house of the Augustinian Friars, at Haltemprice; for here no longer the Canons dropped their beads, muttered their prayers, or chanted their anthems; the ruthless hand of Henry had driven them forth upon the wide world to become supplicants for charity, alongside those who had erstwhile found succour at their gate. The priory and site had in the present year been granted to Thomas Culpepper, but he had not yet taken possession, and it lay desolate and silent, as did, at the same time, many another n.o.ble abbey and priory, scattered over the face of England.

Lord Wake, as he was called by courtesy, although he was only a tenure Baron, had been out in the direction of the now thriving town of Kingston-upon-Hull, and about the middle of the afternoon he came riding over the drawbridge, and pa.s.sed through the arched gateway into the courtyard of his castle. Upon his fist he carried a favourite hawk, and he was accompanied by his falconer, and three or four liveried retainers. He leaped agilely from his horse, which was taken charge of by a groom, and, handing his hawk to the falconer, he pa.s.sed through a portal to the domestic apartments, where he was met by his wife, a singularly beautiful woman, not much past the bloom of girlhood, and as modest, chaste, and pious as she was charming in feature, person, and demeanour. "What sport have you had this morning, husband mine?" inquired she, after an affectionate embrace.

"Excellent," he replied; "my falcon has done wonders, he brought down a heron, who, from his size, must have been the patriarch of the shaw; but, dearest life! sport of that kind, brave as it may be, is as naught to the happiness I experience in thy dear society." Other expressions of endearment of a similar kind pa.s.sed as they sat down to dinner, composed chiefly of venison and boar's flesh. Lord Wake was a great hunter in the surrounding woods of his domain, and as he sat at dinner he was surrounded by half a dozen petted boar and stag hounds, who gambolled at will about the apartment, or sat on their haunches, looking up at their master in anxious expectation of stray bones, which were thrown to them with no n.i.g.g.ard hand.

The meal pa.s.sed over almost in silence, which was only broken occasionally by remarks and discussion on domestic topics; but when it was finished, and Lady Wake had taken up her embroidery-frame, her husband told her that his sport had brought him to the gates of Kingstown, where he learnt that the King was in the town, who had arrived there unexpectedly. He was on his progress to York to meet his nephew, James V. of Scotland, and had come by a circuitous route "for fear of the enraged people," who, exasperated at the dissolution of the religious houses, and the King's a.s.sumption of supremacy over the Church, had two or three years previously raised a formidable insurrection, which they denominated the "Pilgrimage of Grace." The Mayor (Henry Thurcross), Lord Wake said, had sent the Sheriff to meet his Highness at the "boarded bridge" of Newland, on the confines of the county of Hull; had himself, with the aldermen, received him with great obeisance and due formalities at Beverley-gate, and had conducted him to the Manor Hall, the usual residence of Royalty when in the town, where he now was enjoying the splendid hospitality of the Corporation.

"The caitiff," exclaimed Lady Wake, "what does he want down here? His presence betokens no good, and woe betide those with whom he sojourns."

"Bluff King Hal," as he was frequently termed, was no favourite with the better cla.s.s of ladies; and especially with such as were of a devout turn of mind, and were regular and punctual in the performance of their religious duties, as enjoined by their father-confessors. His propensity for chopping off the heads of his wives, or of divorcing them when a new beauty enthralled his amorous susceptibilities, caused him to be held in detestation by all right-minded women; and his sacrilegious deposition of the Holy Father's authority in England, combined with his so-called brutal dispersion of the religious fraternities and sisterhoods of the realm, and unwarrantable plunder of the holy places of the land, caused him to be looked upon by the devout as an incarnation of Satan. Such were the views of Lady Wake, who felt keenly the loss of Haltemprice, which had been to her a sanctuary of heaven, and to which she had been a most generous benefactor.

Whilst Lord and Lady Wake were conversing on this subject, the sound of a trumpet was heard outside, followed by the opening of the great gate at the summons, "In the King's name," and the clatter of a horse's hoofs over the drawbridge and into the courtyard. Lord Wake hastened out and found an herald seated on horseback, who, when he announced himself as the lord of the castle, gave three blasts of his trumpet, and then delivered his message:--"His Highness the King Henry, the eighth of the name, by the grace of G.o.d, defender of the faith, and supreme head of the Church of England, to the Lord of the Barony of Cottingham, usually styled Lord Wake, greeting--It is His Highness's pleasure that on the morrow he will come, G.o.d willing, to Baynard Castle, and partake of the hospitality of the n.o.ble Baron and Lady Wake. G.o.d save the King." In the course of conversation with the magnates of Hull, at the Manor Hall, he had made inquiry respecting persons of note residing in the neighbourhood, and Lord Wake was mentioned as keeping up a magnificent establishment within three or four miles of the gates of Hull, and as being blessed with a wife of surpa.s.sing beauty. The King's licentious propensities were at once aroused at hearing this. "Fore G.o.d," quoth he, "I will betake me thither, and with mine own eyes see whether this Yorks.h.i.+re beauty is the paragon you represent her to be;" and he summoned his herald into his presence and despatched him with the above message to Cottingham.

Lord Wake was thrown into consternation at receiving the King's greeting and message, and, before giving an answer, went indoors to consult his wife.

"Holy Mary!" said she, "what a disaster! We must avoid it in some way or other. Never will I meet the woman-slayer and desecrator of G.o.d's temples within these walls."

"True," he replied, "we must find some means of averting it if possible, but meanwhile it will be necessary to send a civil and loyal reply," and returning to the courtyard, he bade the herald inform the King that he felt highly flattered at His Highness's condescension in proposing a visit to his humble house, and that on the following day preparations should be made for greeting him in the best way his humble means afforded. When the herald had departed, Lord Wake pondered deeply on the dilemma in which he found himself placed by the King's proffered visit. He felt that it was impossible, except by taking some desperate step, to evade it, but something must be done, as he felt a.s.sured that the honour of himself and that of his wife were at stake, well knowing, as he did, the unbridled pa.s.sion of the King, and that if it were thwarted the most perilous consequences might ensue. The confiscation of his estates might be looked for in such case; but better, thought he, lose my land, than my wife her honour. This train of thought led him to think of his castle, where he had lived so happily with the beloved of his heart, when suddenly the idea struck him--What if I burn down my castle! The King could not come for entertainment amidst its ruined walls and smoking embers, and though I should sacrifice my home, I should preserve what is far dearer to me--my wife, pure and undefiled as when I led her to the altar. The more he thought of the project, the more fully he became a.s.sured of its practicability as an effectual bar of defence against the King's intentions. He submitted the idea to Lady Wake, who, without the slightest hesitation, concurred in the proposal.

The seneschal of the castle was then called in--a faithful old retainer, who had been in the family for two or three generations of lords, and who might be intrusted with the keeping of any secret of his master. He was informed of the nature of the peril hanging over the family, and of the method projected by Lord Wake to avert the evil. He had been born and bred up in the castle; knew every nook and corner of it; loved it with a devoted affection, almost as if it had been a thinking, sentient being; and could not without an excess of grief see it destroyed; yet he recognised at once the necessity of the case, and not being able to devise an alternative, so as to save the old towers and walls, undertook, as proposed by his master, to fire the castle that night.

Lord and Lady Wake then proceeded to pack up all the more portable articles of value, jewels, money, family papers, and heirlooms, which were conveyed secretly to the unoccupied Priory of Haltemprice, and thither they went themselves, issuing from a postern, and crossing the moat by means of a raft stationed there for the purpose. When the retainers, men-at-arms, and domestics, all save the sentinals on duty, had retired to rest, the seneschal, heaped together a quant.i.ty of combustible materials in proximity to a ma.s.s of old and dry woodwork panelling on the walls, which he set fire to. The flames soon caught hold of the woodwork, which, blazing up, got a complete hold of the building. He then rang the alarm-bell and roused up the sleepers, telling them that he had been awakened by the smell of burning. Of course all was done that could be done, under his direction, for the subjugation of the fire, but the appliances were so utterly inefficient, consisting merely of a line of men pa.s.sing a chain of buckets from hand to hand after being filled from the moat, that the fire soon overcame all their efforts to extinguish it, and the roof soon after falling in, it blazed up into the midnight sky, illuminating the country for miles round. The flames were distinctly visible from Hull and Beverley, and numbers of persons from both towns hurried to the scene of disaster, but could afford no a.s.sistance, the fire having by that time gained such an ascendency that they could but stand and gaze, awe-stricken, on the scene of devastation.

Intelligence was conveyed to the King the following morning of the "accidental" fire at Baynard Castle, and to show his sympathy he offered to contribute 2,000 towards its restoration, which was respectfully declined by Lord Wake, and the King, after sundry measures for the improvement of the port of Kingstown, crossed the Humber and returned to London.

The tradition adds, further, that this Lord Wake, dying without issue male, the manor was divided between his three daughters, who were respectively married to the Duke of Richmond, the Earl of Westmoreland, and Baron Powis, and that those portions thus acquired the names they still bear of Cottingham Richmond, Cottingham Westmoreland, and Cottingham Powis.

Tradition, however, is p.r.o.ne to error, and in this narrative there are several discrepancies and anachronisms. There was then no Baron Wake, the barony having fallen into abeyance more than a century previously; but the holder of the manor, being a feudal Baron, might bear the t.i.tle by courtesy. Secondly, Leland saw the ruins of the burnt castle in 1538, two or three years before the visit of King Henry to Hull, and he mentions the division of the manor into four parts as having taken place previously, the fourth part being held by the King.

The Alum Workers.

Nestling in a lovely valley in the most romantic part of Cleveland lies the little town of Guisborough, with the mouldering ruins of its once famous Priory. At the time of the Conquest it consisted of three manors, which were given to the Earl of Moreton, and soon after, united into one manor, pa.s.sed to Robert de Brus, Lord of Skelton, to hold _in capite_, by military service. In the year 1129 he founded the Priory of Canons of the Augustine order, and endowed it with a manor of twenty caracutes and two oxgangs, with the tenements, mill, and all other appurtenances. It flourished apace, grew rich, and nurtured some learned and eminent men within its cloisters, until it fell beneath the ruthless axe of Henry VIII.

The Chaloners of Guisborough are of Welsh descent, tracing their ancestry to Trayhayrne, son of Maloc Krwm, one of the fifteen peers of Wales. His grandson, Madoc, otherwise Chaloner, was ancestor of Thomas Chaloner, of Beaumaris, one of whose sons was Roger Chaloner, a citizen and silk mercer of London, whose son, Sir Thomas, Knight (born 1521), was eminent as a statesman, diplomatist, and poet; was employed on several emba.s.sies; was knighted at the battle of Pinkie for bravery; and was author of several esteemed works--"The Praise of Folly," "De Republica Anglorum," and many others. He purchased the manor of Guisborough of Sir Thomas Legh, to whom it had been granted at the Dissolution, for the sum of 998 13s. 4d.

"These towering rocks, green hills, and s.p.a.cious plains, Circled with wood, are Chaloner's domains.

A generous race, from Cambro-Griffin traced, Fam'd for fair maids and matrons wise and chaste."

His portrait was painted by Holbein and by Antonio More, the former engraved by Holler, the latter exhibited at Leeds in 1868.

Sir Thomas, Knight, his son (born 1559, died 1615), succeeded to the Guisborough estates, and was the discoverer of the alum mines. He was twice married, and had issue several children, of whom the eldest--William--was created baronet in 1620, by the t.i.tle of Sir William Chaloner, Bart., of Guisborough, in the county of York; Rev.

Edward, D.D., an eminent polemical writer; and Thomas and James, Parliamentarian officers and regicides. At college he gained some reputation by his Latin and English verses, but was not equal to his father as a poet. He was, however, a good naturalist, at the time when the science was little understood and less studied. In 1580-84, he made _le grand tour_, and spent some time in Italy, where he a.s.sociated with all the most eminent literary and scientific men of the day.

Being a keen observer of natural objects and phenomena, he had noticed that on a certain part of his Guisborough estate the soil never froze, that it was speckled with divers colours, chiefly yellow and blue, which sparkled in the suns.h.i.+ne, and that the trees and shrubs which grew thereon spread their roots laterally, and penetrated the earth very superficially, and that their leaves were of a peculiar tint of green. When in Rome he paid a visit to the Pope's alum works at Puzzeoli, where he noticed with his quick, observant eye that the earth and trees presented the same remarkable features as those on his Guisborough estate, and he immediately came to the conclusion that his land was impregnated with alum. He hastened back to England to test his hypothesis, which he soon verified by experiment, and saw that a mine of wealth lay beneath his feet. But how to work and prepare it he knew not, and there was no one in England who did, and scarcely any one in Europe, outside of Italy, which then had a monopoly of alum, and he set his wits to work to devise some means for separating it from the earth, and preparing it as a manufactured commodity for the market.

Alum is a mineral salt found in clay and other earths, and is a valuable commodity used in various manufactures, and for other purposes. It was first extracted from the earth in which it was embedded, and prepared for use in the East, chiefly at Edessa, in Syria; afterwards near Constantinople; and, on the fall of the Eastern Empire, the alum workers transferred the industry to Italy where it was established in various places, and was confined to the Peninsula for more than a century, after which it spread into Germany, France, and Flanders. The Popes had works at Rome and Civita Vecchia, and carefully guarded their secret, not allowing the workmen to leave the country on any pretence whatever, under pain of excommunication, as the profits of the sale brought a handsome revenue to their coffers.

Sir Thomas Chaloner cogitated the matter in his mind, and the more he thought, the more he saw that the only mode of bringing his alum mines into operation was by kidnapping some of the Pope's workmen, a difficult and perilous task, but which he resolved to attempt, and with that view went again to Italy. Of course the best place for accomplis.h.i.+ng his object was at Civita Vecchia, a seaport in the Papal States. Thither, therefore, he went, and lived in retirement, eluding observation as far as possible, but mingling, whenever he could, with the alum workers, ingratiating himself with them by means of wine, friendly and familiar converse, and the judicious distribution of money. By these means he became acquainted with their characters, and with their hopes and aspirations. Three of the more intelligent he singled out to work upon, but each one separately. He would take them into a wine-house and ply them well with the tongue-loosener, and then turn the conversation upon their occupation and future prospects. Of the three, one seemed to have some influence over the other two, who, to a certain extent, took their opinions from him, and re-echoed his sentiments; and Sir Thomas shrewdly perceived that if he could win over this one, the others would follow, like sheep after the bell-wether. They were seated in a wine shop one day, talking over the alum workers' great grievance. "And so," said Sir Thomas, "you would really like to escape from this life of slavery?" "I should, indeed,"

was the reply; "work here is neither better nor worse than that of a galley-slave." "Why not escape, then, and fling off the chains that gall you?" "Alas, sir," he replied, "we are too closely guarded and watched to render escape at all hopeful. Besides, money would be required, and of this we have but sufficient to get our daily bread."

"But if anyone were to put the means of escape in your hands, would you be sufficiently daring to make the attempt?" "Most certainly."

"And you would not fear the Pope's excommunication, which would a.s.suredly follow?" "Look here, signor, although I am a poor ignorant alum worker, I know something of what has been doing in England and Germany, and have heard of Wickcliffe, Luther, and Calvin, and I should care no more for excommunication at the hands of the Pope than I should for a snap of his fingers."

Chaloner saw he had got hold of the right man, and he gradually revealed to him his discovery of alum earth in England, and proposed that he should accompany him thither to work it, where he would be absolutely free, and promising him a much higher remuneration than he was receiving in Italy; to which the man readily a.s.sented, and undertook to gain over the other two men, who he felt a.s.sured would accompany him. At a subsequent meeting of the four confederates the question was discussed as to the best mode of smuggling them out of Italy, and, after several projects had been suggested and dismissed as impracticable, it was decided that they should be conveyed on board a vessel in casks, as merchandise, and liberated when out at sea.

Sir Thomas at once set to work to find means for carrying out his project, the first being to find a vessel captained by one equally resolute with himself, and to whom he could venture to entrust his secret. Fortunately for his purpose, there chanced to be lying in the harbour a s.h.i.+p from the port of Hull, commanded by an honest fellow-Yorks.h.i.+reman, a man who, as he said himself, "feared neither the Pope nor the Devil." With this captain he sought an interview, explained who he was, and by careful steps laid his scheme before him.

The rough, weather-beaten old captain grasped him by the hand, and, giving it a vigorous shake, swore to stand by him "through thick and thin." He was waiting for a return cargo, had got his vessel half filled, and he agreed, whether full or not, to set sail on that day week. Sir Thomas then went into the market and purchased a quant.i.ty of grain, to be delivered on board in six days, packed in casks. He then caused three casks to be constructed secretly, with false ends to be filled with grain, leaving the central part open and pierced with holes, in great number, but so small as to be scarcely perceptible. On the sixth day, when the alum works were closed, the three men came to him, and were placed in the three casks, which, having pa.s.sed the ordeal of the Customs Office without suspicion, were s.h.i.+pped, and at daybreak the following morning the vessel was loosed from her moorings, spread her canvas, and bade adieu to Civita Vecchia. It was soon discovered at the alum works that the three were missing, and strict search was made for them, without result. At length it occurred to the authorities that they had escaped in the English vessel which had sailed that morning, and three s.h.i.+ps were sent in pursuit of her, but she had several hours' start, and had a fair wind, and the pursuers never caught sight of her. The men were released from their uncomfortable berths when at a safe distance, and revelled in their feeling of liberty as they sped over the blue waves of the Mediterranean, across the Bay of Biscay, and up the Channel, arriving safely at Hull, whence they proceeded with Sir Thomas to Cleveland.

Sir Thomas established his works beyond Bellemondegate, where now mountains of refuse shale are piled up. For some time the works yielded but small profit, and it was not until Chaloner got more workmen from Roch.e.l.le that they became a success, after which they yielded a handsome revenue, and had the effect of breaking down the Italian monopoly, and reducing the price of alum in England to one-half its former cost.

When Chaloner had got the mines and works into thorough working order, King Charles I., at the instigation of some of his rapacious courtiers, made a claim to them as Crown property, and he was compelled to surrender them. They were then let to Sir Paul Pindar, at a rent of 12,500 per annum, to be paid into the Royal Exchequer, besides 1,600 per annum to the Earl of Mulgrave and 600 per annum to Sir William Pennyman, but they were restored to the Chaloners by the Long Parliament. Eight hundred men were employed on the works, and the alum sold at 26 per ton, which left a large residue of profit. Other mines were discovered in Cleveland, on the estates of the families of Phipps, Pennyman, Fairfax, D'Arcy, and Cholmley, when compet.i.tion brought down the price, and consequently reduced the profits; and, as some of these were situated nearer the sea-coast, with greater facilities for s.h.i.+pment, the Guisborough mines became less and less profitable, and were eventually abandoned.

This conduct on the part of King Charles caused the Chaloners to become zealous Parliamentarians in the Civil War. Sir Thomas's sons, James and Thomas, drew their swords against the King, and both sat as members of the High Court of Justice for his trial. The former was tried as a regicide after the Restoration, was condemned to death, and drawn on a hurdle to Tyburn for execution, but received a reprieve when the halter was round his neck; was remitted to the Tower, and died of poison, it was reported, by his own hand, "an invention," says Markham, in his Life of Fairfax, "of the carrion vultures of the Restoration."

The latter, at the Restoration, was included in the list of those excluded from pardon, but saved his life by flight. Winstanley says of him, "He had travelled far in the world, and returned home poysoned with that Jesuitical doctrine of King-killing, which he put in practice, being the great speech-maker against the King, ... and a great stickler for their new Utopian Commonwealth, but upon His Majestie's return fled, his actions being so bad as would not endure the touchstone."

The Maiden of Marblehead.

One fine summer's morning, in the year of grace 1742, the little inn of the little town of Marblehead was in a state of great bustle, in antic.i.p.ation of the visit of some Government officials from Boston to dine there. The landlady, rather vixenish in temper and tongue, was busily occupied in attending to the culinary department, and at intervals scolding a young girl of sixteen, who was scrubbing the floor, and was the maid-of-all-work in the establishment, working from early in the morning till late at night for a small pittance of wages.

Marblehead was a small fis.h.i.+ng town or village about sixteen miles from Boston, in New England, consisting of a cl.u.s.ter of log-built and straw-thatched houses, amongst which stood conspicuously forth the little hostelry, in consequence of its sign of King George the Second's head swinging and creaking from a crossbeam over the highway. The inhabitants were almost entirely of Guernsey descent, a brave people, but not so loyal as the sign of their inn would seem to indicate, as after the war of the Revolution there were in the town 600 widows of patriots who had fallen; and, in the war of 1812, 500 Marblehead men were prisoners of war in England. The was.h.i.+ng of the floor was not completed when the sound of horses' feet was heard coming along the road, and in a few minutes three gentlemen alighted at the door, gave their horses in charge of an extemporised ostler, and entered the house. The landlady made a profound curtsy to her guests, and at the same time rated her hand-maiden for not having the room ready for the gentlemen. "Don't scold her," said he who appeared to be the chief of the group; "I dare say the little la.s.sie has done her best, and perhaps we have arrived earlier than we were expected."

The girl, who was dressed in homely attire, and without shoes or stockings, turned her head with a silent glance of thanks to the speaker--a glance which he p.r.o.nounced to himself to be angelic.

The gentleman who thus came upon the scene was a Mr. Charles Henry Frankland, thirty-six years of age, and slightly bronzed in feature from his early residence in Bengal, where he was born. He was the eldest son of the Governor of Bengal, Henry Frankland, who had been brother and heir-presumptive of Sir Thomas Frankland, third baronet of Thirkleby, in Yorks.h.i.+re, but he had died in 1736, leaving this son heir-presumptive to the baronetcy in his place. In 1741 he had been appointed Collector of the Customs at the port of Boston, and on this summer's morning, with two subordinates was paying a professional visit to Marblehead, which lay within the Boston collection. The more he saw of the girl, as she waited at table during dinner, the more was he struck with the beauty of her features and the faultless symmetry of her figure. As was said of her, "Her ringlets were black and glossy as the raven; her dark eyes beamed with light and loveliness, and her voice was musical and bird-like." He entered into conversation with her, and found that her name was Agnes Surriage, and that her parents, of a humble position in life, dwelt at a neighbouring village. He was charmed with the modest and intelligent replies she made to his questions, but found that she was altogether uneducated, and had learnt nothing excepting how to perform household work, to sew and knit, and "to go to meeting on Sundays." On leaving, he gave her money to buy herself shoes and stockings; but on his next visit he found her again bare-legged, and asking her why she had not supplied herself with shoes and stockings, she replied that she had done so, but kept them to go to "meeting" in.

Becoming more and more fascinated with her beauty, he at length asked her parents to allow him to take her to Boston and have her educated, to which they consented, after some hesitation. He caused her to be instructed in reading, writing, drawing, music, dancing, and all the accomplishments of a fine lady; but although she excelled eventually in sketching, playing, and dancing, and wrote a beautiful hand, she could never master the difficulties of orthography, her spelling to the last being always of an original and curiously eccentric character.

When her education was completed, and she had grown to womanhood, he took her to his home as his mistress, and she bore him a son, who was christened Richard Cromwell. She was, however, looked upon askance by the Quaker circles of Boston, not on account of her lowly birth, but because of her disreputable connection with her "protector." Sir Thomas Frankland, third baronet, died without male issue, in 1747, and Charles Henry, his nephew, succeeded as fourth baronet. Seven years after, he returned to England, with Agnes and his son, to dispute the will of the late baronet as to the disposition of the family estates at Thirkleby, near Easingwold. Sir Thomas made three wills; the first in 1741, wherein he left a slender provision for his widow, leaving the estates to his heir-male. In the second, made in 1744, he left Thirkleby to his widow for life, to pa.s.s at her death to the then holder of the baronetcy; and by the third will, dated 1746, he left her the estates, producing 2,500 per annum, and the whole of his personalty absolutely, and to dispose of as she chose. It was contended that the last will was made when he was in an unsound state of mind and under undue influence, and a lawsuit ensued, resulting in the setting aside of the third and the confirmation of the second will. The lawsuit gained, Sir Charles and Agnes went for a tour on the Continent, and in the month of November, 1755, were sojourning in the city of Lisbon. On the 1st of that month, the sun rose, s.h.i.+ning with almost unusual brightness, and the streets were filled with people going hither and thither on matters of religion, business, and pleasure, little dreaming of, and with nothing to indicate, the catastrophe which was to befall their city. The Franklands had breakfasted at their hotel, and Sir Charles, donning a Court suit, started off in a carriage with a lady to witness the celebration of High Ma.s.s in the Cathedral, leaving Agnes at the hotel. They had not proceeded far, and were pa.s.sing in front of a lofty building, when, without warning, the terrible earthquake occurred, which in eight minutes laid the city in ruins, and swallowed up 50,000 of its inhabitants. The lofty building came cras.h.i.+ng down, and buried the carriage and its occupants. What became of the lady is not known, but the horses were killed, and Sir Charles lay bruised and wounded beneath the ruins for an hour. In full expectation of death, he reflected on his past life, and, concluding that he was undergoing a judgment of G.o.d for his misdeeds, and especially for having lived in a state of concubinage, made a vow that if he should be rescued, he would show his repentance by marrying the partner of his guilt. Agnes had escaped unhurt, and when the first shock had pa.s.sed, fearful that some mischance had befallen him, rushed out in the direction of the cathedral, regardless of the still falling houses, in search of him.

As she was clambering over a heap of ruins, she heard moans issuing from beneath, and a voice which she recognised as that of her beloved one. She immediately got together a party of diggers, and, by promises of high rewards, succeeded in extricating him, and after his wounds had been dressed, conveyed him to Belem, where, in process of time, he recovered, and where their marriage was celebrated.

Sir Charles returned to Boston; but in 1757 he was appointed Consul-General to Portugal, and again came to Lisbon. In 1763 he resumed his duties at Boston, retaining his consuls.h.i.+p, although absent, until 1767, when he returned to England, and died the following year, being succeeded in the baronetcy by his brother Thomas.

Lady Frankland returned to New England with her son, and they resided upon an estate at Hopkinson which she had inherited through her parents, but at the outbreak of the Revolutionary war in 1775, she, being a Royalist, came to England, and, in 1782, married Mr. John Drew, a banker at Chichester, and died in 1783.

Richard Cromwell, her son, entered the naval service of England, but retired on his s.h.i.+p being ordered to America, as he felt unwilling to fight against his native land. In 1796 he was living in Chichester with a family growing up around him.

In 1865 there was published at Albany, "Sir Charles Henry Frankland, Bart.; or, Boston in the Colonial Times; by Elias Nason, M.A.," who, in the preface, says--"Who was Sir C. H. Frankland? is a question which a brief story ent.i.tled 'A legend of New England,' and published by William Lincoln, in 1843, and still more recently the ballad of 'Agnes,' by Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes here, led the public to entertain: Was he a real person or a myth? Was there ever such a collector of the port of Boston? Was he indeed buried under the ruins of Lisbon at the time of the great earthquake? Was he rescued therefrom by the efforts of a poor girl, named Agnes Surriage, and did he afterwards make her his wife?" These questions the author answers in the subsequent pages of the pamphlet, of which the above is an epitome.