A 
 
 LADY OF THE OLDEN TIME 
 
 BY 
 
 Emily Malbone Morgan, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "A Poppy Garden,'" "Prior Rahere's Rose," etc. 
 
 1In ber was ^outb, bcautx;, witb bumble aport, 
 
 JBount^, rlcbess, anb womanly feature, 
 (Sob better wot, tben m^ pen can report." 
 
 % 
 
 BELKNAP & WARFIELD. 
 Hartford, Conn. 
 

 COPYRIGHTED 
 
 OCTOBER 1896 
 
 BY 
 
 EMILY MALBONE MORGAN. 
 
 / 
 
 "■^'^fcl'^-l 
 
 iPT Qii 
 
 ml 
 
 5 
 
 THE CASe, LOCI^WBS^T^ffireAflO CO., 
 HARTFORD, CONN, 
 
XLo tbe IRevcreD /Dbemoris 
 
 OF 
 
 LADY ALICE FENWICK, 
 
 WHO DIED AT SAYHROOK POINT, 1645, 
 
 AND 
 
 To THE Dearer Memory 
 
 OF 
 ELIZABETH WEBB PRINCE, 
 
 WHO DIED JUNE 30, 1896. 
 
 " Rejoice and be glad with her all ye that love har ; 
 Rejoice for joy with her, all ye that mourn for her." 
 
iN Saybrook's wave-washed height 
 f^Bl '^^^ English lady sleeps, 
 '""* Lonely the tomb, but an angel of light 
 
 The door of the sepulchre keeps. 
 
 ^^ No roof — no leafy shade 
 The vaulted glory mars, 
 She sleeps in peace, with the light on her bed 
 Of a thousand kindly stars. 
 
 ^^ She sleeps where oft she stood. 
 Far from her native shore, 
 Wistfully watching the bark as it rode, 
 To the home she should see no more. 
 
 <^ By grateful love enshrined 
 
 In memory's book heart-bound, 
 She sank to rest with the cool sea wind, 
 And the river murmuring round. 
 
 ^^ And ever this wave-v/ashed shore. 
 
 Shall be linked with her tomb and fame. 
 And blend with the wind and billowy roar. 
 The music of her name.^^ 
 Written by Miss Frances M. Caulkins of New London^ 
 January ji, 1868. 
 
 (5) 
 
preface* 
 
 |o MINGLE fiction with fact, to make char- 
 acter drawings of those who leave 
 scanty records beliind them, is like 
 filling in the features of a beautiful or ugly 
 face which is to leave as lasting an impression 
 as any portrait or miniature. That such peo- 
 ple lived, that they breathed, that they felt the 
 weight at times, being human, of all this unin- 
 telligible world, history bears witness ; while 
 of the minds, the spirits, the material presence 
 behind the outward act, even in the lives of 
 more noted colonists she is silent. 
 
 Those, therefore, who would in a later age 
 build their fictitious fabrics on slight founda- 
 tions of historic fact, undertake a task which 
 should be most reverently executed, for they 
 deal with those who have passed into silence 
 and can no longer speak for themselves. 
 
 The facts we have about Lady Fenwick 
 herself could be easily compiled and stated 
 in a very few pages. That she was tall and 
 had golden hair we know. That she was relig- 
 ious is also evinced by her membership in Mas- 
 ter Hooker's Church in Hartford. That she 
 was a faithful wife and devoted mother we 
 have also proof. Of her fondness for fruits 
 
 (7) 
 
8 Preface. 
 
 and flowers, birds and animals, the meagre 
 records also testify. That she was lonely and 
 disheartened in this New World, yet bore up 
 bravely, is implied. That longing- for England 
 she died and was buried at Saybrook, which 
 she helped to colonize, is a matter of history. 
 
 I have tried to take these implied character- 
 istics and develop them to their legitimate ends 
 in the drawing of an ideal character. After 
 some years' thought of her and study of these 
 records I could not think of her otherwise than 
 as beautiful and stately, a woman of strong 
 mind and refined taste, of well-balanced judg- 
 ment ; a helpmate to her husband, a Madonna 
 to her children, of most gracious presence and 
 most winning ways. She was one of those 
 transplanted flowers that blossomed in the 
 springtime of our country. She could not for 
 long bear the cold winters or the hard life of 
 the Colonist, but in dying she left behind her 
 a breath of the spring. 
 
 Records of such lives are like sweet pressed 
 flowers, found in old family Bibles. Though 
 the flower be dead the fragrance lingers. It 
 penetrates other centuries, and breathes of 
 something which in all ages has made life 
 sweet and worth the living, bearing evermore 
 constant testimony to the intense romance of 
 History. e. m. m. 
 
 Heartsease, Saybrook Point, 
 April, 1896. 
 
|n the following pages I have tried to be 
 true to historic dates, and in order to 
 do this have thought it wise to be 
 guided by one historic record and that which I 
 have been assured by the best authorities is the 
 most accurate. I am therefore chiefly and 
 deeply indebted to Dr. J. Hammond Trumbull's 
 paper on the Fenwicks, which was prepared 
 and read on the occasion of the re-interment of 
 Lady Fenwick's remains at Saybrook in 1870. 
 According to Dr. Trumbull, Governor Fenwick 
 and his family landed at New Haven in July, 
 1639. Shortly after their arrival their daughter 
 Elizabeth was born. Their younger daughter 
 Dorothy was born November 4, 1645. Lady 
 Fenwick died shortly after her birth in 1645. 
 Mr. Fenwick returned almost at once to Eng- 
 land still in 1645 or early in 1646. He received 
 his title of Colonel while fighting in the north 
 in the cause of the Parliament. He died in 
 Berwick, England, in 1656. 
 
 In contemporaneous history the battles of 
 
 Marston Moor and Cropredy Bridge, mention of 
 
 which are made, both occurred in 1644, and that 
 
 of Naseby in 1645. Herrick's <^ Hesperides,^^ 
 
 1* (9) 
 
lo Historic and Unhistoric Notes. 
 
 containing his poem ^^ Divination by a Daffodil, ^^ 
 was not published until 1648, in London, at the 
 Crown and Marygold in St. Paul's Churchyard. 
 Thirty years had elapsed since the death of his 
 master, Ben Jonson, and the poet was fifty-seven 
 years old. During those years of troublous 
 times for England he had been quite free in 
 the circulation of his MS, poems, and it would 
 not have been impossible that some of them 
 found their way into Lady Alice's Common- 
 place Book. Of the household of the Fenwicks 
 at Fort Point or Pasbeshauke or Saybrooke, 
 names all mentioned in Colonial history, the 
 ladies, Elizabeth and Mary Fenwick, are men- 
 tioned in the Winthrop Correspondence, also 
 Rev. John Higginson and Dr. Peters. Of Peace 
 Apsley and Oliver Bouteler and Warwick, the 
 dog, no mention is made in Colonial annals. 
 That Lady Alice had a young cousin and that 
 her first husband, Sir John Bouteler, had a 
 nephew would not be strange, and that both 
 being young and comely, they should love each 
 other would be but fulfilling one of the most 
 natural laws of life. The artist party who dis- 
 covered Peace Aspley's diary had also an his- 
 toric counterpart, and during one autumn made 
 many water color drawings from stenographic 
 views taken of the old fort and Lady Fenwick's 
 tomb, as it was before 1870. There are other 
 interesting accounts of the Fenwicks and the 
 early settlement at Saybrook, notably in ^^ Field's 
 
Historic a?td Unhistoric Notes. ii 
 
 Statistical Account of Middlesex County,*^ ^^ His- 
 tory of Middlesex County/^ ^^ Hollister's His- 
 tory of Connecticut,^^ ^^Connecticut Historical 
 Collections ^^ by Barber, ^* Dictionary of English 
 National Biography ^^ (Articles Fenwick), ^^John- 
 ston's History of Connecticut,^^ ^^ Benjamin 
 Trumbull's History of Connecticut,^^ ^^A Gen- 
 tleman of the Province,^^ the book of Saybrook's 
 Quadrimillenniel, and others. 
 
a laD^ of tl^e €)lDen Cime. 
 
 ^^j^^HE house nestled down by the water- 
 side, surrounded by fruit trees. It 
 had a low porch at the side that was 
 covered with trumpet creeper, and there were 
 marigolds growing in the dooryard. A grape 
 arbor led from the old-fashioned door to the 
 gate, and the artist inmates of the house called 
 it the loggia among themselves, because it re- 
 called the vine-covered terrace" of the Cappu- 
 cini at Amalfi, where some of them had once 
 wintered. Outside the house had nothing to 
 recommend it save that it was an unobtrusive 
 brown foreground study against a lovely back- 
 ground of early autumn landscape, in those days 
 when summer clings to all her sweetness most 
 tenaciously and autumn begins to draw her veil 
 of purple haze over hill and valley. Behind 
 the house an old stone pier covered with the 
 rank, brilliant, golden-rod, which grows in 
 deepest yellow and orange only in the salt air, 
 ran out some little distance into a peaceful 
 cove, and beyond a quiet river flowed north- 
 ward. At all hours of the day white sails 
 glided lazily past the house and became lost in 
 silvery distance. Across the river, church 
 
 2 (13) 
 
14 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 towers rose white against the crimson-purple 
 background of the hills, and beyond the cove 
 the coarse marsh grasses were turning yellow, 
 red, and brown, the concentration of autumn 
 sun and shade, in the keen air of cool mornings 
 and chill evenings. A road ran past the house 
 and ended in a sudden curve, and a green field 
 and some brown stubbly fields beyond hid the 
 view of where the river met the sea. Across 
 the cove to the west other church towers rose 
 every evening, etched sharply against a prim- 
 rose or violet sky. This was the late September 
 setting of the plain brown house by the Con- 
 necticut roadway. Inside the house, life was 
 simple, happy, and broad, for its temporary 
 inhabitants were mostly citizens of the world, 
 — seven cultured women, four of whom were 
 artists, who were down there for an autumn 
 holiday. 
 
 If what Marie de Medici once said is true, 
 ^^ that woman is always young, she is always 
 twenty in some corner of her heart, ^^ they were 
 all young; all at that age where aspiration 
 stretches out her hand to Fame, believing 
 sooner or later they will meet in a close hand- 
 shake. Every day the artists made their way 
 across the fields to the wharves, the lighthouse, 
 and the sea, and returned at noon or night 
 with quick and rapid sketches of passing ships, 
 of weatherbeaten men mending fish nets in the 
 sand, of the lighthouse against a brilliant cloud 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 15 
 
 effect, or of a sunset over the marshes. They 
 studied the sea in its every mood, cahn, smiling, 
 and indignant. Their sketch-books were full 
 of sailors in every attitude and posture, and of 
 the outline of trim, white yachts or ships with 
 black hulks and weather-worn sails. Time 
 was when the old harbor town with its pres- 
 ent day picturesque lighthouse, breakwater, 
 and wharves had seen much traffic. Ships 
 that were not phantom ones had sailed 
 slowly up the river from distant foreign ports, 
 and the fort which once stood at the entrance 
 of the harbor had figured largely in that which 
 makes history. It was a great place for fisher- 
 ies, and still within the memory of mortal man 
 it was once equally a great place for clam chow- 
 ders and Jamaica rum not always hidden under 
 the rafters of old cellars. Salt tales of the sea 
 were once in all men's mouths, and the place 
 was full of the men who came back and had 
 seen great sights all over the world, and of 
 memories of the men who never came back at 
 all. Old timbers and driftwood lying on the 
 shore when the tide was low, the moaning pines 
 over many ancient graves in the graveyard, 
 rusting anchors half buried in the sand, all 
 seem to tell the story that ever repeats itself, of 
 a day that was past and of buried hopes. 
 
 Perhaps the inmates of the little brown house 
 were more impressed with the inner history of 
 the place than anything else, for the house itself 
 
1 6 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 had a history not wanting in tragedy or romance. 
 Flavia, who was their hostess, and who had 
 lived off and on in the house for many summers, 
 had found out that it had figured in Colonial 
 records. In their little parlor, which was lit- 
 tered with water-color drawings, sly caricatures, 
 and sketches of each other, and more serious 
 work on easels, as they sat round the fire wait- 
 ing for the water to boil in the kettle on the 
 crane for afternoon tea, and went to the corner 
 cupboard for cups, they could not help wonder- 
 ing who had lived there in all those years since 
 the Revolution, or who else had boiled water 
 in the kettle and gone to the cupboard for tea- 
 cups. They had been told when they first went 
 there that an English officer had been killed in 
 crossing the threshold, though some one else, 
 who presumably was not present, was positive 
 he had been shot in getting into the house 
 through the back window. That there had 
 been much smuggling in those days there was 
 little doubt. They had borrowed every book 
 on Colonial history in the neighborhood, and 
 spent much time in studying it evenings. They 
 discovered that the modern method of smug- 
 gling was far less picturesque, at least that one 
 ran less risk of being shot in trying to avoid 
 official gaze in introducing into the country the 
 latest styles of Madame Paris. At least, so 
 thought Maud, their most special artist, a pupil 
 of Dupre in Paris, a happy denizen for some 
 
A Lady of tJie Olden Time. 17 
 
 years of the Ouartier Latin, and thoroughly- 
 conversant with the small talk of the Parisian 
 studios. She discovered a trap-door under her 
 bureau, and said it led to some cavern of unut- 
 terable darkness, and it did, for it proved next 
 day to lead to the coal-cellar. Somebody had 
 taken occasion once during a dreary twilight, 
 before the lamps were lighted, to tell them that 
 some one had once fallen through that trap- 
 door and never spoken again. Maud stuffed a 
 comfortable under the bureau that night to pre- 
 vent a sudden resurrection from the dead. 
 Knowing they were intent on research, every- 
 body kindly volunteered information, but as 
 they voted not to be interested in anything that 
 happened in this century, as it would be far too 
 commonplace, the information did not always 
 prove satisfactory. It left them, like hungry 
 Olivers, crying for more. 
 
 One afternoon Flavia, who had been to the 
 post-office, came in with a most exciting piece 
 of news. Maud was toasting wafers at the par- 
 lor fire and Carlotta was passing around tea. 
 
 ^^ Girls! What do you think ?^^ she exclaimed, 
 and then she went on to tell them how their 
 neighbors not far off had only a few days before 
 pulled down an old chimney, and found resting 
 on the chimney-seat a pair of high -heeled white 
 satin slippers. 
 
 ^^ White ! ^^ said Penelope. ^^ That sounds 
 truthful. That chimney could never have re- 
 
i8 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 quired a chimney-sweep! ^^ But the others 
 talked her down, and Maud proposed pulling 
 down the dining-room chimney at once, to see 
 whether they also could find any. 
 
 Helen, the other special artist of the rival 
 school of Dupre, and who criticised Maud's 
 greens severely, was too absorbed in painting 
 a fishing scene in the corner to pay much atten- 
 tion, but Phillis, who kept house for them, was 
 quite appropriately excited, and Penelope, who 
 regarded all schools of art with patronizing 
 favor, and was longing for some excitement 
 besides the discussion of greens and ultramarine 
 blues, favored the pulling down of the chimney 
 at once. Adel lay back on the sofa and laughed 
 a low, musical laugh. Every household has a 
 center, and she was their center. Perhaps be- 
 cause she was always in one place, perhaps be- 
 cause a soothing kindness and brightness was 
 her atmosphere, and from her frail form seemed 
 to emanate a sympathy born of pain, because, 
 as she said, ^^she had always to go on all fours, ^^ 
 as her faithful crutches bore witness; as Flavia 
 said, their household sun never went down, and 
 round her every lesser planet of the house 
 moved, as round the center of their being. 
 Carlotta, who sat at the tea-table, was her in- 
 separable companion. This was all of the 
 household in the plain brown house by the 
 Connecticut roadway : Maud, Helen, Penelope, 
 Flavia, — artists; Phillis, Adel, Carlotta, — home- 
 
A Lady of tJie Olden Time. 1 9 
 
 keepers, a very complicated art itself in the 
 present day. 
 
 Adel's laugh provoked discussion. She apol- 
 ogized humbly, but said she did not believe in 
 undermining old chimneys to find satin slippers 
 of uncertain color. 
 
 ^^ I have already forestalled any objections, ^^ 
 said Flavia. ^^ I have sent for a man to exam- 
 ine the chimney, and after the bricks are all 
 pulled down it would be nice to turn it into a 
 dear, old-fashioned fireplace, like that in Shake- 
 speare's house at Stratford on Avon.^^ 
 
 ^^ Why not turn the house into an Ann Hathe- 
 way Cottage ?^^ asked Maud. ^^ I remember 
 dining once at Charlecote Manor, not far away 
 from Stratford, and being startled by my Eng- 
 lish hostess telling me that the house fairly 
 ^ stank of Shakspeare.^ There, there, its a 
 good, old English word, I know Carlotta is 
 going to tell me, so I'll spare her the trouble. ^^ 
 
 ^^I was not looking in the dictionary, ^^ said 
 Carlotta, looking up from a big book. ^^ I was 
 only rescuing our ^Historical Recollections^ 
 from an inundation from the tea cups.^^ 
 
 ^^ Carlotta has been poring over Colonial his- 
 tory all the afternoon, ^^ said Adel. 
 
 ^^ What did you find out about this house ? ^^ 
 called Flavia, taking off her hat in the hall. 
 
 ^^ Not very much, except in ^ Barber's Histor- 
 ical Recollections ^ I found a letter written from 
 New London, and dated x^ugust 18, 1779, which 
 
2o A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 tells us something about our officer who was 
 shot getting- into the back window.*^ 
 
 « Read it,^^ said Maud. 
 
 ^^We hear from Saybrook that a boat lately- 
 returning into the Connecticut River from Long 
 Island, where she had been on an illicit trade, 
 was stopped by the Fort at Saybrook, w^here a 
 quantity of goods were taken out of the boat 
 and lodged in the custody of one Mr. Tully, an 
 officer of the fort, who stored them in his dwell- 
 ing house.'' ^^ This house ! '' interrupted Flavia, 
 impressively. ^^ On Sunday night, the 8th in- 
 stant, eight men broke into the house with a 
 view of carrying off the goods, on which the 
 officer fired on them, killed two at the first shot 
 and wounded another with a bayonet ; on this, 
 the others made off, carrying the wounded man 
 with them. A warning to this kind of gentry.'' 
 
 ^^ Dear me ! " exclaimed Penelope ; ^^ it does 
 not sound half as romantic as it did before." 
 
 ^^ There is a map taken from President Stiles' 
 Itinerary of Saybrook Point in 1793, which 
 shows the position of our house and of other 
 houses on the north cove ! " exclaimed Flavia. 
 
 ^^ How pleasant it would be to know more 
 about the early settlement of the town," said 
 Phillis, pensively. 
 
 ^^Carlotta and Adel ought to tell us some- 
 thing about it. They have been simply spend- 
 ing their time behind barricades of calf-skin 
 books lately," said Helen. She had finished 
 painting and joined the group about the fire. 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 21 
 
 ^^To most people,^^ said Carlotta, ^^ history, 
 especially Colonial history, is not interesting- 
 unless sugar-coated and taken in homoeopathic 
 doses. To the earliest settlers coming here 
 they found an almost unbroken forest. They 
 found the oak, the pine, the walnut, the chest- 
 nut, the cedar, and the tulip tree. They found 
 many wild animals and hungry wolves by the 
 thousands. They found an abundance of wild 
 fowl, turkeys, geese, duck, and great flocks of 
 wild pigeons in the spring and autumn. They 
 found, also, the red man, a wild people, who had 
 their own wild religion and deities. In 1631 one 
 of these red men visited the Governor of Mas- 
 sachusetts in the guise of a suppliant for his 
 people. He described his country ^ as of a fer- 
 tile valley, divided by a river called the Con- 
 necticut.^ He begged that both the Plymouth 
 and Massachusetts Colonies would send men to 
 make settlements in this valley. Governor 
 Winslow of Plymouth consented to consider 
 this plea. In 1633 men came from Plymouth 
 and settled at Windsor. The Plymouth Com- 
 pany conveyed the whole territory, called the 
 Colony of Connecticut, to the Earl of Warwick, 
 which was confirmed to him by patent of 
 Charles I. Robert of Warwick executed under 
 his hand and seal the grant since known as the 
 old patent of Connecticut, wherein he conveyed 
 the same territory to Viscount Say and Seal, 
 Lord Brooke, and others. Late in 1635 Jo^^n 
 
2 2 A Lady of the Olden Timt. 
 
 Winthrop, the younger, came to America as an 
 agent of Viscount Say and Seal, with instructions 
 to go at once to the mouth of the Connecticut and 
 to begin the building of a fort, to be built upon a 
 large scale, and to embrace within its enclosure 
 < houses suitable for the reception of men of 
 quality.^ The horrors of that first winter at 
 the Point,^^ exclaimed Carlotta, vaguely pointing 
 out of the window as she spoke towards where 
 the fort once stood, ^^ were beyond expression. 
 The cold was intense, the snow deep and 
 drifting, and it was followed by the horrors of 
 the Pequot War. Then came the first written 
 Constitution, adopted in a general convention 
 of settlers in 1639. And it was this same sum- 
 mer of 1639 that Lady Alice Fenwick arrived 
 with her husband and other members of her 
 household at Saybrook, for so the settlement 
 was named, in honor of its original patentees. 
 There had been a garrison kept up at the fort 
 since its first erection by Mr. Winthrop in 1635, 
 but no civil government was organized until 
 the arrival of Colonel Fenwick. Among the 
 first proprietors of this town were Captain John 
 Mason, Thomas Tracy, Lyon Gardiner, who was 
 the commander of the fort, and Thomas Lef!ing- 
 well. The houses ordered had been built by 
 Winthrop for gentlemen of quality in connec- 
 tion with the fort, so that Master Fenwick and 
 Lady Alice, his wife, experienced less of hard- 
 ship in carrying out their plans than was usual 
 
A Lady of the Olden Tune. 23 
 
 with the founding of new settlements. Say- 
 brook at this time owed no allegiance to Con- 
 necticut. She had her own independent gov- 
 ernment, which was administered by Colonel 
 Fenwick until the year 1644 or 1645, when it 
 fell into the hands of Connecticut.^^ 
 
 ^^ Dear me ! ^^ exclaimed Penelope. ^^ I never 
 appreciated before that a little history went 
 such a long ways, especially when there are 
 no delicious court intrigues. I've heard all 
 that old calfskin can give me in one day. 
 Let's make our knowledge practical by spend- 
 ing the rest of the afternoon at Lady Fen- 
 wick's tomb ! ^^ 
 
 ^^ Penelope ! ^^ exclaimed Maud, coming up to 
 her and looking down into her face, ^^you are 
 like all Americans before they have taken 
 flight from the home nest, you would long 
 since have gotten on your mental knees and 
 stayed there before men who simply did their 
 duty and struggled bravely against hardships, 
 if you had lived in a country of Revolutions 
 like France and saw what they did with their 
 kings ! ^^ 
 
 Phillis ended Maud's rebuke by appearing at 
 this moment with the clothes' basket. ^^ If you 
 are going to the graveyard, ^^ she remarked, 
 ^^you might bring home a basket of pine cones 
 for our twilight fires, ^^ and the family obediently 
 disappeared to go in search of cones, leaving 
 Carlotta poring over her old books lovingly; 
 and Adel dreaming of the past. 
 
24 A Lady of the Olden l^ime. 
 
 Several days passed and the man whom 
 Flavia had sent for to pull down the chimney 
 did not appear. She waited till the fourth day 
 and then started out with Phillis in pursuit of 
 him. They walked for nearly two miles along 
 a country roadside before reaching the town. 
 It was the high carnival of the year for briars, 
 brambles, and nettles, but they did not mind 
 stopping to pick the odd, little stick-tights from 
 their dresses, for the day was too beautiful not 
 to study nature in her every mood. They 
 noticed everything in that walk: the thistles 
 blowing in the pastures, the meadows white 
 with everlasting, just as everything around 
 them was about to die, the milkweeds just 
 bursting their pods with the wealth of white 
 samite threads floating away on the September 
 breeze, the gray green of the mullen spires 
 against the fitful autumn sky, and the wayside 
 tangles of Michaelmas daisies and golden-rod 
 which they could not fail but gather as they 
 passed. Phillis stopped, for her dress was caught 
 in a blackberry bramble. Flavia tried to release 
 her all in vain. And they laughed and talked 
 and frightened a great flock of crows in the 
 next field who rose with a Cassandra-like note 
 in their ^^caw, caw,^^ as they flew southward. 
 
 ^^ They are singing the symphony of the dying 
 year,^^ said Phillis, as she gave a final wrench 
 from her thorny captor. 
 
 ^^It always seems to me,^^ said Flavia, "as if 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 25 
 
 autumn, like a gladiator, flung its dying salute 
 to the world and going out in royal scarlet and 
 purple set life to a triumphal march. ^^ 
 
 " Do you seriously think we shall ever reach 
 the town at this rate ? ^^ asked Phillis, and they 
 hastened on to find that their delinquent man 
 had already gone to pull down the chimney and 
 that their walk had been fruitless. So they 
 gathered great bunches of bayleaf and sweet 
 fern, with a view to their future hearth fires, 
 and hastened home to find all the dining-room 
 furniture on the side piazza and a dust pervad- 
 ing the house equal to that of the tomb of the 
 Capulets. The delinquent man had been loath 
 to disturb a nice bricked-up chimney to find 
 a possible pair of unmated, satin slippers, but 
 the girls had been impervious to argument and 
 so a heap of dust and bricks occupied the 
 original site of the dining table and nothing 
 was found as a result but a horrid dilapidated 
 modern rubber shoe, which could not even be 
 palmed off as a sandal of the early Greeks. 
 The gentleman of the occasion carried a vic- 
 torious smile on his countenance as he removed 
 the bricks and mortar to the ash heap and went 
 home and told his wife that there was not even 
 an anatomical difference between girls and 
 geese. 
 
 ■^ It is a good-sized fireplace,^^ said Flavia 
 consolingly, but the girls were still very much 
 disappointed about not finding high-heeled slip- 
 
26 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 pers and would not be consoled. They each 
 took a hot biscuit from the kitchen table and 
 went out to see the sunset, leaving Phillis to 
 restore the dining-room to its original condi- 
 tion; and it was she, who, kneeling on the 
 hearthstone of the new made fireplace and 
 moving the bricks in the chimney, discovered 
 poked far up on one side the little, old, 
 discolored book, with its queer, broken clasp, 
 which was far to outdo any mere high-heeled 
 slipper interest and was to keep Flavia busy for 
 many a day. When they came in to tea an hour 
 later she exhibited her new-found treasure and 
 they all examined it. It was closely written 
 from cover to cover in a fine, and at times, 
 indistinct, handwriting. Flavia examined it 
 more closely after the lamp was lighted and 
 found it to be some sort of a diary written at 
 Saybrook long ago by one Peace Apsley', who 
 signed herself a cousin of Lady Alice Fenwick, 
 who had come with her to this new world and 
 who had lived with her at the old fort. The 
 writing was so fine and cramped that Flavia 
 had great trouble in making it out. 
 
 <^ The spelling is so queer. It really needs to 
 be translated into modern English to make any 
 sense, ^^ she said. 
 
 ^^ Let us postpone the reading of it until Satur- 
 day night when the house-uncles come down 
 for their Sunday at the Annex, ^^ said Maud. 
 << Meantime you edit it.^^ 
 
A Lady of the Olden Tune. 27 
 
 ^^ Very well,^^ said Flavia. 
 
 ^^To think it is our last week down here/^ 
 said Pliillis, sadly. ^^ I wish the house-uncles 
 could spend the whole week with us.^^ 
 
 But the ^^ house-uncles,^^ which was the girls' 
 name for their male relatives, consisting of 
 brothers, cousins, and would-be sweethearts, 
 did not appear till the late afternoon train, 
 Saturday, as was their wont every week, put- 
 ting up nominally at the " Annex, ^^ the hotel at 
 the Point, but spending their Sundays at the 
 little brown house. Flavia worked like a Tro- 
 jan that week at Mistress Peace Apsley's diary 
 to forestall the criticism of the house-uncles. 
 There was Richard, Helen's cousin, and the 
 would-be swain of Phillis, Mark, and Luke, 
 anything but two evangelists, though called so 
 derisively by Maud, and Harry, who belonged 
 to the Society of Physical Research and was the 
 most famous teller of ghost stories before drift- 
 wood fires on the American Continent. They 
 arrived to find a supper of steamed clams and 
 other fishlike productions that were eaten with 
 a relish, and then, as it was a moonlight night, 
 instead of gathering about the hearthstone, half 
 the family disappeared in pairs into a moonlit 
 world, so the MS. was not read until the next 
 evening, which was chill and cloudy, and the 
 warmth of the great open fire particularly grate- 
 ful ; then, seated in the chimney corner, Flavia 
 read to them her translation of the diary of 
 
2 8 A Lady of the Oldeji Time. 
 
 Mistress Apsley, written at Saybrook in the 
 years between 1639 and 1647. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 The Diary of Peace Apsley, of Apsley Farm, 
 Surrey, England, written while in exile with 
 her cousin, Lady Alice Fenwick, at Fort Point 
 or Saybrooke, during the years between 1639 
 and 1647. 
 
 I, Peace Apsley, spinster, write this record 
 in exile to help me live through these weary 
 days in a strange land. Outside I keep up a 
 brave front, but inwardly my heart sinketh and 
 when evening cometh and my dear lady and 
 kinswoman no longer needeth my help and fel- 
 lowship, I go and sit in the shady corner of the 
 garden and look out over the sea and think of 
 home among the Surrey downs and dream of 
 the gardens I used to play in as a child. I can 
 feel the breeze sweeping across the long grass 
 of the meadows and hear the church bells ring- 
 ing in the peaceful eventide, and see the rustic 
 seat by the spring at the corner of the garden 
 where my sister Rosell and I made cowslip balls 
 each springtime. Ah me ! shall I ever see or 
 hear anything of them again ? It was there at 
 the beginning of the long meadow coming 
 across the fields towards the stile where Rosell 
 and I were standing, I first saw my Lady cous- 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 29 
 
 in's nephew, young Oliver Bouteler, walking 
 towards lis as the sun were going down. Shall 
 I ever forget how he stopped a moment and 
 looked across the stile at sister and me, as if he 
 would fain speak, though prudence kept him 
 silent, and then of how he turned in the curve 
 of the meadow path and went away down the 
 hill again as if he were walking away into the 
 sunset, leaving us behind in dark shadow. 
 
 " A handsome youth, ^^ I said to Rosell timidty. 
 ^^ One seemingly well favored of God and man. 
 I wonder whom he may be ? ^^ But Rosell said 
 sternly, ^^ Saw ye not he wore the King's colors 
 and that he had too much scarlet in his doublet 
 for a God-fearing man ? ^^ 
 
 Rosell were surely but a few years older 
 than I, but forsooth she were born an aged maid 
 and had not grown any younger since. 
 
 ^^ Rosell, answer me this,^^ I said, as we passed 
 through the garden flaunting poppy heads. 
 ^^Wherefor did God create such red heads as 
 this if He wanted man alone to wear dun color 
 till he put on his winding sheet ?^^ But she 
 were too pious to answer me. I hate God-fear- 
 ing men with a whine in their voice. She can 
 marry all the God-fearing dun-clad men she can 
 find if it please her, though on thought a woman 
 should be the wife of but one man at a time. 
 
 My eyes followed Master Oliver Bouteler as 
 he walked away into the sunset and my heart all 
 unknowing to myself followed my eyes after 
 
30 A Lady of tJie Olden Time. 
 
 him down the meadow path, and when we went 
 into the house there stood our father greeting 
 him. He had come with a message of import 
 from our cousin, Lady Alice Bouteler, to tell 
 of her betrothal to one, a worthy gentleman, 
 Mr. George Fenwick of Brinkburn, Northum- 
 berland, a friend of my father ; and of Master 
 Fenwick's recent visit to the new world colonies, 
 where my father had interests. Rosell had 
 gone into the house before me ; I had lingered in 
 the garden and made a wreath of red poppies 
 for my head and fastened a great bunch of red 
 roses about my waist, to show my willful love of 
 bright color ; so when I entered the great hall 
 after her, where Oliver stood, his back to the fire- 
 place, I was indeed a maid abashed and felt like 
 Ophelia in the play. I gathered up my white 
 dress and would have run away, but my father 
 sternly called me, and I came back slowly. 
 
 ^^This is my daughter Peace,^^ he said, ^^ Mas- 
 ter Oliver Bouteler. An idle maid with but a 
 fool's heart. ^^ 
 
 I looked up into Oliver's face. As he bent 
 low our eyes met, and then forsooth our hands, 
 while father frowned. He did not like me to 
 make so free, and scolded me well afterwards 
 and said : 
 
 ^^ A maid with true modesty did courtesy to 
 the gentlemen, but kept her hands behind her 
 back.» 
 
 All the evening I sat there quiet, my poppy 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 31 
 
 wreath and rose branch fading in the corner, 
 while father praised Rosell as a good housewife, 
 when Lisbeth, the maid, brought in the home- 
 brewed ale and oaten cakes and Oliver unfolded 
 the business which had brought him, not look- 
 ing at me until the time came to say good 
 night. Then he bent low once more over my 
 hand, as if fain he would, cavalier fashion, press 
 it to his lips, while I courtesied and he said low : 
 
 ^^Good night, Sweet Mistress Peace. ^^ 
 
 Ah ! well a day! That were the beginning, 
 but God only knoweth the end, as he knoweth 
 the end of all heart aches. 
 
 After my father had lighted him to his cham- 
 ber he came back and rebuked me sternly for 
 my forwardness, and then said to Rosell in a 
 stern voice that, though he were obliged to re- 
 ceive the message from his Lady Cousin and 
 from his right good friend Master Fenwick, he 
 loved not the messenger: that he belonged to 
 an ungodly and God-defying generation, and 
 had no fear of God in his heart, and was a de- 
 fender of the King. 
 
 I am not very old, but, for an ignorant maid, 
 have noted some things which I will note here, 
 and one thing is that few men be God-fearing 
 men or brave soldiers to those who fight in an 
 opposite cause. I understand not these things, 
 but think that it be a matter for which no man 
 should be faulted that he stand by his King and 
 his church. 
 
^2 A Lady of the Olden Ti??ie. 
 
 Master Oliver Bouteler left at sunrise next 
 morning, after once more seeing- my father. I 
 understood not fully at the time of the purport 
 of his visit. Those were the beginning of 
 troublous days for us and for England. Writ- 
 ing now in this lone spot, far away from home, 
 I can understand in part a little of what father 
 told us. Sometime before His Majesty, the 
 King, had dissolved his third Parliament, and 
 had granted a charter to establish a colony in 
 Massachusetts. My father's friend, John Win- 
 throp, had sailed for Salem with a hundred men, 
 saying: 
 
 ^^ I shall call that my country where I may 
 most glorify God and enjoy the presence of my 
 dearest friends. ^^ ^^ Our hearts,^^ he had said to 
 my father and others, ^^ shall be fountains of 
 tears for your everlasting welfare, when we shall 
 be in our poor cottages in the wilderness. ^^ 
 
 He hath also written from the new colony 
 since: 
 
 ^^ We now enjoy God and Jesus Christ, and is 
 that not enough ? I never had more content of 
 mind.^^ 
 
 Archbishop Laud of Canterbury, my father 
 saith, hath persecuted many godly men, Puri- 
 tan ministers, and doth encourage many Popish 
 ceremonies, so that thousands are seeking the 
 new world, where they may worship God as 
 they choose. My Lord Warwick hath bought a 
 fertile valley, called by some strange name, and 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 33 
 
 the Lord Say and Sele and Lord Brooke hath 
 purchased a great tract of land by the mouth of 
 a goodly river. My Lady Cousin's betrothed 
 husband, Master George Fenwick, hath been 
 sent out to the Colonies to visit it, and, in re- 
 turning, hath reported that John Winthrop hath 
 already dispatched a number of men to the 
 river's mouth to take possession. A fort hath 
 already been built under the command of a 
 brave man. Lion Gardener, once in the service 
 of the Prince of Orange, and houses are being 
 built inside the palisades. 
 
 Master Fenwick, in his first visit to the new 
 world, had greatly urged my father to go with 
 him, but it were the summer before my mother 
 died, and she were already ailing, and he would 
 not leave her. Now Master Fenwick had 
 returned, and he and my Lady had sent Oliver to 
 apprise my father of their approaching marriage, 
 and to urge that he would return with them to 
 the new world, where he already owned lands. 
 
 This was the condition we were in, in Eng- 
 land, when I first met Oliver Bouteler. Once 
 more he visited us, to urge that my father jour- 
 ney to Teston in Kent, where my Lady still 
 lived, near the estates of her former husband. 
 Sir John Bouteler, and from whence she would 
 shortly be married ; that he would be present 
 at her wedding, and that if perchance he could 
 not come, Rosell and I be allowed to travel with 
 old Lisbeth, under escort of her nephew, Oliver, 
 
34 ^ Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 as she greatly desired the presence of her kins- 
 folk, — all the more that it were through her 
 cousin, Peter Apsley, of Apsley Farm, Thack- 
 ham, she had first met Master George Fenwick. 
 How my heart failed me for fear father might 
 keep us at home, but, though he would not go 
 himself, having little love for weddings or gaiety 
 of any sort since my mother died, he bade Rosell 
 and myself make ready to accompany Oliver 
 under charge of old Lisbeth. He even called 
 me to him and gave me a brave white satin 
 bodice, with brocade petticoat of primrose silk, 
 with a brilliant for my throat, which had be- 
 longed to my mother in her youth; and Rosell 
 a gray satin, which had belonged to her later 
 years; and thus, well equipped, we started in 
 the early summer days for the wedding, escorted 
 by Master Oliver and old deaf Lisbeth. 
 
 What can I tell thee, dear diary, of that jour- 
 ney, of the meetings, and the handclasps, spite 
 of the vigilance of Lisbeth and watchful eye of 
 Rosell, who were fitted by nature to be a duen- 
 na by an extra eye, I verily believe, in the back 
 of her head. We said little, we looked much. 
 Each flower by the roadside, from the day's-eye 
 to the evening primrose, had its message, for 
 Love hath a language all its own, as the birds 
 have when they mate in the spring of the year. 
 We journeyed between green hedgerows and 
 summer forests, and rested one night at a com- 
 fortable inn, and then reached Teston and the 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 35 
 
 welcoming arms of the Lady Alice next day, — 
 talking with our eyes of another wedding that 
 might be when the next year were still young. 
 
 It maketh me unhappy to think or write of 
 that marriage and how I danced till the early 
 morn in my primrose petticoat, and of how be- 
 fore I left, Oliver and I plighted our troth in 
 the dim old garden by the sun dial, which said 
 on it : ^^ Post Nubila Phoebus. After clouds a 
 clear sun.^^ Then we returned home once more, 
 but this time Rosell took possession of Oliver 
 and left me with old Lisbeth ; she would not let 
 him speak to me, but would talk to him about 
 the state of the times and of how the King were 
 the ruin of England, — so we were not the merry 
 party we were when we left Apsley Farm. The 
 times and ourselves were out of joint. Rosell 
 must have told my father something, for he 
 treated Oliver with scant courtesy. So he abode 
 one night with us and in the morning asked me 
 of my father in marriage, like a right honorable 
 gentleman, but my father answered him sternly 
 that he would never marry his daughter to one 
 who connived with popery, that he neither 
 loved church nor «tate as it were then in Eng- 
 land, and that he would sooner see me dead than 
 wedded to a worshiper of Baal or the defend- 
 ers of the devil's slave, for so he called the King. 
 I heard it, for I was listening at the door, and 
 my Oliver shamed me by his worshipful bow 
 and said he would defer pressing his honorable 
 
o 
 
 6 A Lady of the Olden Tijiie. 
 
 suit until the happier days which would soon 
 dawn. He left the house, but that evening sent 
 me a message by old Bardolph, the gardener, to 
 meet him at nine o'clock by the stile at the end 
 of the garden, near the long meadow where I 
 had first seen him, and then he told me all my 
 father had said and that he was going away and 
 that he could not tell when he would return. 
 Then we again plighted our troth together in 
 the moonlight, each vowing to be faithful to the 
 other until death should part us. It was solemn 
 as a marriage vow. He pressed a ring on my 
 finger and I gave him the riband from my hair. 
 He whispered every loving thing he could. I 
 kissed him and that was our farewell. I can 
 close my eyes and see it all now. I can feel 
 that last heart clasp. I can smell the roses as 
 they clambered over the wall and hear a little 
 bird in the thicket, who wakened at midnight to 
 sing a sobbing note at our farewell. The next 
 morning I went to itiy father and told him 
 everything, for there was nothing to conceal ; 
 but he was greatly angered at me and told me 
 ^^ I were a pert maid without respect or mod- 
 esty.^^ He kept me closely in the house, only 
 letting me walk in the garden once a day, and 
 Rosell proved a good jailer. I have naught 
 against her. She were but an obedient child and 
 I a disobedient and rebellious one. In the 
 spring my cousin, the Lady Alice, was to sail 
 with her new husband for the colonies, and 
 
A Lady of the Oldeii Time. 37 
 
 coming to Thackham and seeing me pale and 
 listless and hearing of the condition of things 
 from my father, offered to take me with her, 
 and I, longing to be with some one who knew 
 and loved my Oliver, begged that he would let 
 me leave home and seek my fortune with her in 
 the new world. Thus we set sail from England 
 the following April and after seven weeks, on 
 the 20th of May, landed at Quillplack (New 
 Haven) and from thence journeyed to this wil- 
 derness, where we have been for nearly four 
 years past. I did not realize in leaving England 
 I was leaving Oliver, until at sea my heart sank 
 low within me. He was right beautiful my 
 lover, tall, with a carriage of much dignity and 
 of great strength, with hair of fine spun gold 
 and a face such as he might have had who 
 served King Arthur in the olden time and saw 
 the vision of the Grail. He were merry and 
 master of all manly sports was Oliver, and he 
 now may be lying with his dead face turned up 
 towards the sun, moon, and stars for aught I 
 know, or may ever hear. I can write this now 
 when the miles of lonely water roll between and 
 no ship ever cometh from England to bring me 
 word of him. 
 
 I have not yet writ at length of my lady cousin 
 who is so good and kind to me, aye, and so brave, 
 for oft I know her heart faileth her and she 
 4 
 
38 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 longeth for the sight of home and kindred, yet 
 keepeth up a right good heart. Oft as she sit- 
 teth at work I love to watch her, for she be 
 beautiful, tall and stately, with a head like a 
 Saxon princess, crowned by pale brown hair 
 that hath gleams of sunshine in it, that maketh 
 it seem at times like gold. Yet it is not of that 
 outward beauty that perisheth that most be- 
 cometh the Lady Alice, it is that quiet repose 
 and the spirit that shineth through her eyes that 
 seemeth to soothe all that is troublous about her. 
 I know not what my father may have told her 
 of my story. I could but say to her briefly, ^^ I 
 love your nephew Oliver. ^^ And then I ran 
 away to drown myself in tears the day we left 
 England, and that is all that ever passed be- 
 tween us about my hopeless love, but sometimes 
 at even when I look perchance sadly and long- 
 ingly across the sea she hath come and stood 
 beside me and rested her hand for a moment on 
 my shoulder soothingly, and I have felt that her 
 thoughts had wandered back like mine to the 
 old home, her lost youth and her first love. 
 Then her eyes, with shadows in them like those 
 of coming tears, have met mine, and then she 
 has turned and glided away down the garden 
 path, her gray dress rustling against the prim 
 box border as she passed, and she has left me 
 feeling, though not a word has been said, that 
 she feeleth for me and knoweth that the wide 
 and cruel waters that roll between this new 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 39 
 
 world and home, divide forsooth my body from 
 my spirit, and that I left my heart behind me in 
 England when I sailed away. I can remember 
 when I was a child the first time I saw Lady 
 Alice. She had come back to Surrey with her 
 first lover and husband. Sir John Bouteler. She 
 was young and gay then, with a face as bright 
 as a fruit tree on a May morning. She were tall 
 and graceful, with a delightsome voice and 
 laugh. Not that in musing I would give a 
 thought that she be any way indifferent to her 
 present lord, Master Fenwick, he somewhat 
 grave and serious, having weighty matters rest- 
 ing upon his shoulders in the establishment of 
 a new colony. My lady cousin furthereth all 
 her lord's concerns with gravity and judgment, 
 only I knoweth she longeth many a time for 
 England, the home of her childhood, the scene 
 of her early married days. 
 
 When we first came into the wilderness we 
 suffered something of hardship, though Master 
 Chapman hath assured me that with a strong 
 fort and with many houses already built our 
 hardships were nothing to what they did under- 
 go who did first come here; how they could 
 not sleep of nights with the howling of hungry 
 wolves in winter, and for fear of the sudden 
 attack of the Red Man, who hath been quiet 
 since a bloody war that they had before 
 our coming, v/herein much blood was shed. 
 But it seemeth to me still much hardship to 
 
40 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 abide for long surrounded by savages and with 
 wolves that howl so piteously in winter, though 
 now we have aright goodly house and garden in 
 the fort, and my lady hath lately united with 
 Master Hooker's church in Hartford. The baby 
 Elizabeth, who be named for our revered Aunt 
 Elizabeth Apsley, hath been baptized. We be 
 situated at the mouth of a beautiful river 
 where it meeteth the sea, and for so short a 
 period the Lord hath greatly blessed us in our 
 undertakings. Our household here now consist- 
 eth chiefly of the Lady Alice and her husband 
 and Mistress Elizabeth and Mrs. Mary Fenwick, 
 with grave Master Higginson as chaplain, and 
 the baby Elizabeth. There be also many gen- 
 tlemen supporters of Master Fenwick, of which 
 I have met a few, notably Master Robert Chap- 
 man, Captain John Mason, and Master Lion 
 Gardiner, whom I especially favor, though he 
 be no longer young. Master Higginson be rec- 
 ommended to us by the reverend gentleman 
 who came with us from England, Master Henry 
 Whitfield, who is now settled at Guilford, to 
 whom my lady gave some of her best cows of 
 the stock we brought over, when we parted 
 from him after landing at Quillpack, July 15th, 
 1639. 
 
 #%» 
 
 Good Master Higginson returned yesterday 
 from Hartford, bringing with him some garden 
 seed that hath been much grown yonder, and a 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 41 
 
 healing herb for my lady's garden. Her flower 
 garden beareth, after some years' care, many 
 a dear flower of old England, of poppies 
 and roses and daffodils, while yonder on the 
 sunny slope on the south side of the fort is the 
 herb garden from which my lady maketh many 
 a soothing posset for the sick. Thither the 
 bees and butterflies resort all summer days, for 
 here grow mint, marjoram, anise, sweet basil, 
 catnip, lavender, coriander, and summer savory. 
 Surely this new world be right pleasant in 
 spring and summer. The sky here is bright 
 and clear, and they grow many strange flowers 
 such as I never saw before. In the woods at 
 springtime I have found sweet pink and white 
 blossoms, and along the borders of the marsh- 
 lands in August, where I have ventured with 
 Warwick, my lady's noble hound, for company, 
 I have found tall mallows with great blossoms, 
 pink as roses, while in autumn the fields be 
 yellow with strange branching, golden blossoms 
 and purple with daisies of Michaelmas, but never 
 a primrose or cowslip have I seen here. The 
 winters are hard and the wind it bloweth fiercely 
 and ofttimes snow lieth deep on the ground 
 from November to May, and we dare not ven- 
 ture forth but for a breath of fresh air, but sit 
 dolefully in the chimney corner, while logs are 
 piled high and the fire is the only thing to 
 brighten this cheerless world of snow. 'Tis in 
 
 these long days that my lady cousin shineth 
 4* 
 
42 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 as the sun and brighteneth us all by telling 
 many a story of her youth or of the Surrey 
 countryside, or by singing hymns and songs. 
 Indeed, musick be to us all a great solace. My 
 lady brought with her from England a most 
 profane instrument, a lute of ungainlie height, at 
 which Master Higginson looketh doubtfully as if 
 it were an instrument of sin, and methinketh Mis- 
 tresses Mary and Elizabeth Fenwick thinketh it 
 also contributeth to undue levity when we think 
 gravely of the destiny that awaiteth our immor- 
 tal souls. I confess to thee, my diary, my sinful 
 thought that the Devil should not have all the 
 good musick, for if so, to us who be young it 
 maketh Hell an attractive, not a gruesome 
 place. I love, like King David, the sound of 
 psaltery and harp, but like best of all the right 
 merry music to which he danced before the 
 Lord with a good heart. What if my father 
 should see this ? He would think me given 
 over to the evil one, and I do fear me much 
 that my heart foUoweth too much after gaiety, 
 and that I would rather dance this very moment 
 than to say my prayers. How well it be, there- 
 fore, that my father be safe in England and 
 cannot read this wicked little book of mine, 
 wherewith I wile away the weary hours. My 
 lady is so sweet she offendeth no one, but sing- 
 eth hymns and psalm tunes with good will, 
 while Master Higginson and the Mistresses be 
 by, but when we are alone she singeth the love 
 
A Lady of the Oldeii Time. 43 
 
 songs of her youth, and those which were of 
 fashion in England when we left home. There 
 be one I especially love, written by Sir Charles 
 Smedley, which she singeth with great sweet- 
 ness. 
 
 " Hears not my Phillis how the birds, 
 Their feathered mates salute ? 
 
 They tell their passion in their words, — 
 Must I alone be mute ? 
 
 Phillis without frown or smile, 
 Sat and knitted all the while. " 
 
 ^^ 
 
 My lady also brought with her a book of old 
 madrigals and catch songs, together with graver 
 poems. She hath copied many of a certain 
 Robert Herrick, a gentleman and scholar, whom 
 she had known in England, for she hath great 
 taste and somewhat a gift herself at poetry, 
 and many a weary afternoon hath she wiled 
 away for me as we sat at needlework, with bal- 
 lad and tale, and when the time seemeth heav- 
 iest she will talk to all of us of the promises of 
 my Lord Northumberland and of the many 
 others who were coming from England to settle 
 at Saybrooke, so that when spring cometh we 
 have been all of us on the lookout for coming 
 ships. My father, when I left England, extolled 
 to me so greatly the housewifely virtues of my 
 dear lady that I thought not of her other gifts 
 and charms, but indeed hers be of the right 
 
44 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 kind of piety that saith little but doeth much. 
 Though her great Bible with its silver clasps be 
 always open on the window seat in her chamber, 
 wherefrom she doeth read daily on her knees, 
 she be not an apt quoter of Scripture. Then, 
 too, she hath a love for all living things, for 
 birds and beasts as well as fruit and flowers, 
 and knoweth with little study the name of each 
 and the season thereof. She hath tamed the 
 wild pigeons till they feed from her hand and 
 hath brought into gentle captivity for the little 
 Elizabeth a whole colony of rabbits, which alone 
 do give us much occupation. Yet with all these 
 gentle traits she be a brave lady with naught 
 but the fear of God in her heart, for she of ttimes 
 ventureth far into the wilderness with naught 
 but her good gun and faithful dog. 
 
 To-day I have picked some strange flowers 
 of lavender color under large, brown leaves 
 and my lady hath had some planted in the 
 garden. This day week we received some trees 
 as a gift from Hi? Excellency, Governor Win- 
 throp, and hath set them out about the house. 
 Master Fenwick hath written to His Excellency 
 thus wise : 
 
 ^^ If we have anything that could pleasure you, 
 you should freely command us, as I am pretty 
 well stored with cherry and apple trees of the 
 apples you sent me last year, but the worms 
 
A Lady of f/ie Olde?i Time. 45 
 
 hath in a manner destroyed them as they came 
 up.^^ This did I write with my own hand to 
 His Excellency, Master Fenwick, dictating, for 
 which I received in payment a great compli- 
 ment, that my hand was as my face, sweet and 
 
 well favored. 
 
 lulu 
 
 Dear diary, thou hast been but a wavering 
 companion written at long intervals these near 
 four years past, but henceforth I will endeavor 
 me for a time, at least, to keep a daily or weekly 
 record of our life, for perchance if I should ever 
 again see Oliver, he might like to know how we 
 had passed these dreary days. 
 
 May ist, 1645. — May Day, and I did not rise 
 at five to wash my face in honey dew in the 
 meadows, as was our wont at home, so that we 
 might carry a bright face the rest of the year. 
 I thought it not worth while, as there was 
 no one to be bright and gay for, but at ten 
 o'clock there was great excitement among us 
 because of the arrival of a messenger from 
 Boston from His Excellency, Governor Win- 
 throp, with important despatches for Master 
 Fenwick, and letters and packets which had 
 come in a ship to Boston several weeks before. 
 How happy was I when my lady gave me a 
 letter and a packet from my sister Rosell, after 
 
46 A Lady of the Olden Tune. 
 
 Master Higginson had finished one of his long- 
 winded morning prayers. I could hardly wait to 
 open it till I reached my chamber, when I found 
 that Rosell had sent me a blue figured dimity 
 with a white kerchief and lutestring ribands to 
 make it fine with ; but forsooth who is there to 
 dress for in this fort save perchance Master 
 Higginson, who is of a faith too grave to care 
 for the gauds of a maid ! I be not in Boston, 
 sister Rosell, or in Hartford, where me heareth 
 at times there be some gaiety, and life be not 
 all prayer meeting and sleep, but at a lonely 
 fort in the wilderness at the end of a long river, 
 always looking out to sea for some one to come 
 from England, and before my eyes one face, 
 and listening for one footfall. Such is the sad 
 teaching of love to women that they look on one 
 and he becometh their world ! I care not for 
 the dimity and the ribands, for I care not for 
 the swains of this new world, though some there 
 be that favor me. I care much for thy letter 
 and even for the message from my father, who 
 hath exiled me from all I love. Foolishness it 
 be for me to write thus to thee, my book, never- 
 theless, will I copy my letter from Rosell, angry 
 as it hath made me, for it came from England 
 and it may be all I shall ever receive from 
 there, and it might be lost perchance. 
 
 ^^ Sweet Sister Peace: ^^ she writes, ^^Long 
 have I waited for a safe messenger to carry 
 thee these trifles, that by them thou mayest 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 47 
 
 bring the new world gallants to thy feet when 
 thou goest to Boston. I can see thee in thy 
 new gown with the ribands fluttering and the 
 kerchief about thy neck, and the brilliant which 
 our father gave thee sparkling at thy throat, 
 dancing perchance in some country dance, as 
 we used to dance at Apsley farm on winter 
 nights; as you danced one night with the right 
 worthy Master Ducksworth in the oak parlor, 
 in the pink satin bodice and green petticoat. 
 Dost remember ? Ah me ! The times be 
 changed. Lonely it is in the oak parlor of 
 afternoons with no sound of laughter from the 
 garden, and our father be greatly puzzled at 
 the state of the times. No one cometh here 
 but Master Ducksworth, knowing that I be 
 fearsome and low of heart. Great things have 
 happened since thee left England. A great 
 man, Oliver Cromwell, who hath our father's 
 full confidence, and who be a worshipful friend 
 of Master Ducksworth, hath risen in our cause 
 to lead our down-trodden people. He had 
 raised a regiment of strong, brave men, fighting 
 in the cause of the parliament and they have 
 gained for us the Battle of Marston Moor. 
 Father be now away with them and the days 
 pass heavily. The King is with his routed 
 army at Oxford, and now I would tell thee 
 something of thy Oliver. Tear him out of thy 
 heart, for he be unworthy of a true maid's 
 fancy. His father, who forsooth was changed 
 
48 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 from plain William to Sir William by our weak 
 King in 1641 hath already fallen at Cropredy 
 Bridge last year. Thine Oliver is now Sir 
 Oliver Bouteler, and with the King at Oxford, a 
 friend of Prince Ruperts and thy father's 
 enemy. Through such as these our country 
 has been brought nigh to ruin. Let not thy 
 heart follow after him any more than it 
 would after strange gods. This is the time to 
 tear from out thy heart all unruly affections, so 
 our father says, and to labor and pray right 
 hard for those who fight for the deliverance of 
 the people. He saith with Cromwell, ^God 
 make our enemies as stubble to our swords.^ I 
 doubt not but thy lover still love thee well, but 
 love thou not him. We must follow this most 
 worshipful leader, Oliver Cromwell, and hate all 
 those who have brought this trouble upon us. 
 Think well of what I tell thee, and if some 
 serious and godly man of the new colony, such 
 as be Master Ducksworth, ask thee to share his 
 fortune, it would surely please our father much 
 if thou wouldest consent thereunto, for it would 
 give pledge that thou hadst forgotten thy old 
 and unworthy love, who followeth after Beelze- 
 bub and hath been led captive by the priests of 
 Baal. I send with this our most constant love 
 to our worthy cousin, the Lady Alice, and her 
 
 spouse. 
 
 «Thy Faithful Sister Rosell.» 
 
 To think I have laid waste so much paper to 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 49 
 
 copy this letter which maketh my heart to burn 
 with anger. What care I for Cromwell and his 
 cause ? My heart is with Oliver, with the King 
 at Oxford, My lover is a brave soldier. Rosell, 
 what doth she know of love ? a parrot writing 
 but what our father saith, forsooth, and quoting 
 to me Master Ducksworth. What's Master 
 Ducksworth to me ? Worth ducks and nothing 
 more ! Content myself with some man of this 
 new world wilderness ? It is well for her she 
 can write of the trouble and stir in England 
 for one who hath dwelt nearly four years one 
 day like another and who would give all she 
 hath for trouble and stir rather than to live 
 through ceaseless days each like the other. Is 
 not England a kingdom, and why should men not 
 serve their king ? Did I not promise to love 
 Oliver, and do I not well to stand beside him ? 
 This also I know full well, if women had their 
 way there should be no more war, but men 
 should live at peace ! The Lady Alice came 
 into my room this even, looking pale and sad. 
 
 *^ Little Peace,^^ she said sorrowfully, ^^ there 
 be strange news from home.^^ I noted the way 
 she said home and it brought dew to my eyes, 
 for it voiced all that sad longing I had in my 
 own heart. I handed her my letter from Rosell 
 and she sat down in the window seat and read it. 
 She smiled only once towards the end, and then 
 looked grave again. My heart was hard. 
 
 ^^ Rosell has never loved,^^ she said, as she 
 
50 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 laid it down. ^^ I do not bid thee tear thy love 
 from out thy heart. I bid thee only turn it 
 upward; keep it still. It is God's sacred gift to 
 us. It must be trained, for it is human; it can- 
 not be killed, because it is divine. Child, I have 
 known often that thy heart has gone outward 
 after thy lover; think of him less; think of thy 
 love for him more. He may never come back 
 to thee. Wilt thou repine ? Wilt thou let it 
 grow bitter or wilt thou have it grow sweeter 
 each year a soothing posset for sick hearts ? 
 Ah ! nurse thy love. I tell it thee who have 
 also loved, yet loved not in vain. Let thy love 
 make thee brave for the whole, wide world. 
 Sweet Peace. ^^ Then she turned and I saw the 
 sunlight, as it seemed to follow her, as I lost 
 the sound of her light footfall on the stairs, and 
 my heart had grown soft as she spoke as if it 
 belonged unto a little child. 
 
 May 6, 1645. This morning I have been 
 taking down much instruction from my lady as 
 to the use of certain healing herbs, though for 
 many of these one might seek in vain at Fort 
 Point. There be herb two pence that be a cure 
 all, and the juice of buttercup doth stop sneez- 
 ing, St. Anthony's turnip be an excellent 
 emetic, and bindweed, pimpernel, and wood- 
 ruffe be cures also for blood and liver. I shall in 
 the leisure time of summer make pillows of 
 sweet thyme, mingled with poppy seed, which 
 be excellent to bring sleep to weary eyes, so 
 saith my lady. 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 51 
 
 There be talk at the present time of Master 
 Higginson soon leaving iis to become assistant 
 of Rev. Henry Whitfield at Guilford, for which 
 I confide to thee alone, my diary, that I shall 
 not grieve if this be true. He be a righteous 
 young man, but I like not over righteous young 
 men, however grave they may be when they 
 be old and have wedded twice, perchance. 
 Master Higginson seemeth to have a liking for 
 me, and I doubt not that if I favored his suit 
 there mJght be a wedding at Fort Point before 
 he left for Guilford, but indeed this may not be 
 so, but beneath the fancy of a modest maid. 
 
 June 2, 1645. A great surprise hath come to 
 me, for to-day I hath received a letter which 
 came in a packet from Boston for Master Fen- 
 wick. It be written in a handwriting exceed- 
 ing precious to me and which maketh my 
 heart to beat quickly. Surely the times be 
 changing, as I told my lady, when last night I 
 saw the moon over my left shoulder. Soon, 
 perhaps, we shall hear of ships coming to har- 
 bour here or in Quilpack. My Lord North- 
 umberland and the other patentees of the new 
 colony will come here and build goodlie houses 
 and plantations and my lady will no longer look 
 pensively across the sea and I can dance in my 
 sprigged dimity here without going to Boston. 
 But all this is not what I would write of, but of 
 my letter from my true love, that so thrilleth 
 my heart. This is what he hath written unto 
 
52 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 me lonely and grieving at this Fort Point by 
 the sea : 
 
 << Dearest Heart : — England and all the 
 world's at war because my Peace hath forsaken 
 her country and dwelleth among strange folk 
 across the sea. The light hath gone and must 
 somewhere be rising over the new world. I 
 wonder in these troubled days of civil war 
 whether thy heart still beateth true to one who 
 espouseth the royal cause and would die for his 
 King? If our cause seem lost and I can no 
 longer serve His Majesty I shall seek for Peace 
 over the water and verily not find it until we 
 are made one, for I am a Peace-loving man and 
 must be wed to Peace before my heart stop 
 wandering, ^ chasing dim phantoms over path- 
 less seas,^ as saith the poet. I wonder how and 
 where this letter may find thee. I have sent it 
 to one who is scribe to His Excellency, Gov- 
 ernor Winthrop, hoping against hope that it 
 may sooner or later find thee. When shall I 
 look into thine eyes and feel I have found thee 
 beyond all peradventure ? No man hath found 
 such Peace as I have found in thee, my be- 
 loved, or such large content as I shall have 
 when we meet again. Behold my heart hath 
 already gone half way across the sea to meet 
 thine, see that thine cross the other half to 
 meet mine, sweet Peace of the new world. 
 
 « Thine Oliver.^^ 
 
A Lady of tJie Olden Ti/ne. 53 
 
 This be a verse or two of a right merry song 
 penned by my friend, Sir Richard Fanshawe, 
 for ^^ the Saints' Encouragement ^^ : — 
 
 <^ Fight on, brave soldiers, for the cause ; 
 
 Fear not the cavahers ; 
 Their threat'nings are as senseless, as 
 
 Our jealousies and fears. 
 'Tis you must perfect this great work, 
 
 And all malignants slay ; 
 You must bring back the King again 
 
 The clean, contrary way. 
 
 ^^ The true religion we maintain, 
 
 The Kingdom's peace and plenty ; 
 The privilege of parliament, 
 
 Not known to one of twenty ; 
 The ancient, fundamental laws ; 
 
 And teach men to obey 
 Their lawful sovereign ; and all these 
 
 The clean, contrary way.^^ 
 
 I know not what to think of Sir Richard's 
 verse, save that it seem not respectful to either 
 King or Parliament. It do make my head to 
 ache to think which may be right or wrong, for 
 verily there be good men on both sides. But 
 war aside — 
 
 Did ever maid receive a greater reward for 
 
 being true to her true love ? After long silence 
 
 and loneliness and doubt if he be alive or dead, 
 
 to have the silence broken by such sweet melody. 
 
 5* 
 
54 ^ Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 I kissed the letter eighteen times this morning, 
 after reading it twenty-five, and then went out 
 into the garden to read it over in quiet. The 
 daffodils nodded over the garden borders, the 
 birds sang as if their throats would burst, the sea 
 looked bluer than ever it had done since I left 
 England, the sun shone as it never shone before, 
 and I wondered why my eyes had been blind to 
 so much beauty. I took up my lady's book of 
 love songs as I passed out, and after I had re- 
 read my letter and locked it safe up with draw- 
 ings strings against my heart, I turned, for 
 greater comfort, to the book, and read some of 
 Master Shakspeare's sonnets and some written 
 verse of Master Herrick, copied full neatly in 
 my lady's own hand, and one written by another 
 was marked, and some one, forsooth, had written 
 a date against the lines, the date of Lady Alice's 
 first courting in breezy Surra}^, in the old Thack- 
 ham gardens, writ one idle summer day: 
 
 <^ There is a garden in her face 
 
 Where roses and white lilies grow, 
 
 A heavenly paradise is that place 
 Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow, 
 
 There cherries grow that none may buy, 
 Till cherry-ripe themselves do cry. 
 
 *^ The cherries fairly do inclose, 
 
 Of orient pearl a double row, 
 Which, when her lovely laughter shows, 
 
 They look like rosebuds filled with snow. 
 Yet them no peer nor prince may buy, 
 
 Till cherry-ripe themselves do cry. 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 55 
 
 << Her eyes, like angels, watch them still. 
 Her brows like bended bows do stand, 
 
 Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill 
 All that approach, wath eye or hand. 
 
 These sacred cherries to come nigh, 
 Till cherry-ripe themselves do cry.^^ 
 
 ^^ Reading love songs, Mistress Peace ? ^^ said a 
 voice beside me, and I looked up like a fright- 
 ened bird and half-hid my book, for grave Mas- 
 ter Higginson stood behind the garden seat, 
 looking down upon me with a searching look in 
 his eyes. 
 
 ^^ Yes,^^ I answered, pettishly. Then he hand- 
 ed me, with a strange, new gallantry, four daffo- 
 dils he had just plucked from, the garden. 
 
 ^^ Wear these as a nosegay, Mistress Peace; 
 they well become thee. Thou lookest like 
 April, as thou sittest there in the sunshine. 
 Dost remember what Master Herrick writeth 
 of the daffodil in Lady Fenwick's song book ? ^^ 
 
 ^^ When a daffodil I see. 
 
 Hanging down his head towards me, 
 Guess I may what I must be ; 
 
 First, I shall decline my head ; 
 Secondly, I shall be dead ; 
 
 Lastly, safely btuied.^^ 
 
 And he, too, forsooth, bent his head like the 
 daffodil, low down a-toward me, looking into my 
 eyes so close I felt his breath on my face, as if 
 he fain would ask a question. 
 
56 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 <^ First, I shall decline my head ; 
 Secondly, I shall be dead; 
 Lastly, safely buried. ^^ 
 
 did I repeat after him as I arose. ^^ Good 
 Master Higginson, I know you will rejoice with 
 me, for I have to-day received right goodlie 
 news from England, telling me of the health 
 and good faith of my one true love, who 
 fought like a brave soldier at Marston Moor, 
 and who, when last he wrote, was with the 
 King at Oxford. That is the reason, good 
 Master Higginson, thou findest me like a 
 picture of April, reading love songs by the gar- 
 den wall.^^ And I left him standing there, 
 breathing heavily, looking far out to sea. Later, 
 in the twilight, when I passed through the gar- 
 den, I beheld four daffodils lying dead on the 
 garden seat, waiting to be safely buried, and I 
 could not refrain from saying to myself: 
 
 ^^ First, I shall decline my head, 
 Secondly, I shall be dead, 
 Lastly, safely buried. " 
 
 Oh! Master Higginson, grave Master Higginson, 
 surely thou thyself could have had but a pass- 
 ing fancy for one so gay, so trifling as this little 
 Piece. 
 
 June 16, 1645, Master Higginson talketh of 
 leaving us, and my heart is grave, for I fear me 
 much I may in some way be the cause. My 
 Lady looked somewhat sorrowfully this morn- 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 57 
 
 ing, when I came in from feeding the rabbits 
 and sat down to needlework. She had confer- 
 ence with her husband, and later she came unto 
 me and said : 
 
 ^^ Thou hast caused sad unquiet and grief of 
 heart, Mistress Peace, to a good man. Master 
 Higginson be sore smitten of thee. Hast thou, 
 plighted to another, in no wise given him 
 cause ? ^^ 
 
 I could not bear that my lady cousin should 
 look at me thus gravely, but said that it were 
 surely a passing fancy of the good Master. 
 That even if my troth were not already plighted 
 I should make but a sorry show as the wife of 
 a godly minister, and my feet were going to a 
 roundelay in my head as I talked, till I looked 
 up and saw the Lady Alice's face filled full with 
 grave reproach. 
 
 ^^Talk not so lightly, Mistress Peace, ^^ she 
 said. ^^ The greatest gift God giveth woman is 
 the gift of a good man's heart ; it may not be so 
 lightly spurned. ^^ And then I answered, with a 
 shake of my head and with spirit, 
 
 ^* Dear Lady, what can I do with two, but 
 keep the one already accepted and reject the 
 other. I cannot marry two. ^^ But I could bring 
 no smile to my lady's face. All she said in 
 answer was this : 
 
 *^If Master Higginson remain with us, I beg 
 of thee to remember that by promise thou art 
 as wedded wife to another man, and there be 
 
 3* 
 
58 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 others here whom I have noted thou treatest far 
 too lightly. I like not thy way of meeting 
 Master Huntington in the garden yester even- 
 ing, nor thy free way with Master Baldwin when 
 thou didst greet him yester morn. Because we 
 dwell in a wilderness, dear cousin, there be no 
 excuse for forgetting we be gentle folk. I like 
 not to speak to thee thus, but thou hast com- 
 pelled me so to do.^^ And she left me with a 
 very sore and angry heart, going like a windmill 
 in my breast. Surely I cannot wear weeds for 
 Oliver from morn till night. I be young and 
 the blood be not yet sluggish in my veins. I 
 like Master Huntington's glance of admiration 
 as I pass, and to have gay speech with Master 
 Baldwin, but I love none the less my Oliver. It 
 be all the fault of the godly minister, who hath 
 inclined his godly head and heart towards a 
 pert maid. So, dear diary, between ourselves I 
 consign these dog rhymes of mine to Master 
 Higgins, for forsooth I will not be courted by 
 any Higgin's son. 
 
 A dog rhyme written by Mistress Peace Aps- 
 ley at Fort Point, June 16, 1645, and dedicated 
 to the right worshipful minister, John Higgins. 
 
 Master Higgin's love lies bleeding, 
 
 While I pen this roundelay, 
 I, relentless and unheeding, 
 
 Turn my face the other way. 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 59 
 
 Master Higgin's heart is broken, 
 I won't mend the broken piece, 
 
 He to me no word has spoken, 
 I won't come to his release. 
 
 For forsooth, it is immodest, 
 
 For a maid unspoken to, 
 To wear her heart outside her bodice, 
 
 Or bashful lover to pursue. 
 
 Master Higgin's sore offended, 
 
 All because of little me, 
 Soonest gone is soonest mended, 
 
 Better from the devil flee. 
 
 Cupid's dart or Satan's arrow 
 
 Interfere with Gospel lore. 
 Stick in even saintly marrow. 
 
 And there's always room for more. 
 
 ^^ Daffodils for divination ;^^ 
 
 Master Higgin's are in vain. 
 Don't forget your ordination. 
 
 In the mazes of Love Lane. 
 
 June 30, 1645. — I still be in something of dis- 
 grace, for Mistress Mary Fenwick looketh at me 
 severely and my lady hath not sought my com- 
 panionship of late. Can it be because of Master 
 Higginson ? How do the best of women exalt 
 the godly minister and standeth him upon a 
 polished stool and worship him above the com- 
 mon man, and wherefore should they, seeing 
 
6o A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 they be not uncommon, but of common clay, and 
 shall equally dissolve to dust like to ourselves ? 
 I be not righteous, so I understand not these 
 things, but seeketh much the companionship of 
 Warwick, noble dog, and seek to know why 
 at times when one is sad of heart the brute 
 doth read the mind and mood and comforts by 
 silent sympathy — and preaches unending ser- 
 mons of deathless faithfulness from eyes lumi- 
 nous with love and gratitude, — when man f ail- 
 eth to understand. Talking to Warwick and 
 looking into his honest face I have renewed 
 my vows of deathless love to Oliver, for I would 
 be ashamed to be outdone by a brute in faith- 
 fulness. 
 
 Midsummer nearly, and my heart is very sad. 
 I be a most grave maid these days, quite far 
 apart from mirth, for time passes and no mes- 
 sage cometh from England. Ah, well a day ! 
 Master Higginson still be with us, more serious 
 than before and praying longer prayers. My 
 Lady Alice is not well. Let me whisper it to 
 thee, my diary, that in the autumn for comfort 
 during the long winter days God will send her a 
 blossom of springtime to nestle at her breast. 
 
 ^^ God hath greatly blessed me,^^ she said to 
 me yester eve, ^^ for he hath sent me two chil- 
 dren in this new world to comfort me for all I 
 have left in the old. My little Betty is a con- 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 6i 
 
 stant joy, but she is fast forgetting- her baby- 
 ways. Thee will find some day thyself, little 
 Peace, that when a child nestles and lifts its 
 little hands helplessly, then is a mother's fullest 
 joy, for it is even yet as a part of ourselves and 
 draweth its life from us as we draw our life 
 from the Father of all. Poor men, they cannot 
 understand this,^^ she added low, as her husband 
 came in with many papers of importance, to tell 
 her of his appointment as one of the commis- 
 sioners of the United Colonies at New Haven. 
 He hath also received a letter from the court, 
 desiring him ^^ if occasion will permit him to go 
 to England to endeavor the enlargement of the 
 patent and to further other advantages for the 
 C£>untry.^^ There be talk of selling the Fort, as 
 the gentlemen who thought of coming from 
 England hath seemingly abandoned their pur- 
 pose of emigration, and there be therefore little 
 reason for our continuance here. I shall not 
 soon forget the days of this long summer, when 
 we have sat together working on little gar- 
 ments, or how calm and sweet my lady's face 
 has grown in the thought of her little one and 
 the white spirit that would join it at its birth. 
 Once only has she voiced the light in her eyes ; 
 it was as she fashioned the little shirt to lie next 
 the beating heart. 
 
 ^^ Such gifts are a gift of the Holy Ghost, ^^ she 
 said, *^ Sweet Peace. ^^ And a silence fell upon 
 us that seemed to be none the less filled by the 
 6 
 
62 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 stirring of wings. I love to record these 
 thoughts of my lady in thee, my diary, because 
 I want of her a picture for all my living days 
 which will linger when perchance the vision of 
 her comeliness and beauty be gone, as of a mind 
 stored with all strong and goodly thoughts, as 
 of a garden enclosed wherein grew all manner 
 of fragrant flowers and refreshing fruit for way- 
 farers. She seemeth in these days to have no 
 longing for the olden-time and talketh but little 
 of the past. 
 
 December 15, 1645. — ^ long, sad pause in 
 thee, little diary, and it be a heart-broken maid 
 that would record the days of our life at Fort 
 Point since midsummer waned. Yet will it be 
 some comfort, now that winter is upon us, to 
 write of these days which have aged me and 
 made me think like a sober maid. Through 
 the summer we received no news from Eng- 
 land. September came and the air became cool 
 once more, for these new world summers be 
 over warm. The great masses of woodland 
 over the river grew hazy and purple, and at 
 nights we sometimes saw strange lights of In- 
 dian fires. Great flocks of birds daily flew 
 southward, and as we neared October the apple 
 trees which Governor Winthrop sent i:s were, 
 for the first time, heavily laden with red and 
 yellow fruit. The days grew shorter and 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. Gt^ 
 
 shorter, and after the sun had set the night be- 
 came so cold that one could fancy that winter 
 were no longer in hiding, though he wore a 
 mask of yet warm sunshine by day. We were 
 right busy in October preparing for winter, and 
 my lady directed all things to be put in readi- 
 ness for our comfort, and oversaw all that she 
 ordered to be done. In the early days of No- 
 vember her little one came to her waiting arms, 
 and was called Dorothy, because, my lady said, 
 she was indeed the gift of God. She was a 
 sunny little maid, and we needed much the sun- 
 shine, for after her coming winter set in grim 
 and cold. I was always with the Lady Alice 
 now, for she seemed to recover her health but 
 slowly, though she were deeply happy watching 
 the little face beside her, which seemed to be 
 the summing up of her content. One night 
 when I was sitting beside her she asked whether 
 I had again heard from England and from him 
 my heart loved best, and I showed her Oliver's 
 letter, and she said it were the letter of a Chris- 
 tian man and one whom she herself loved. 
 
 ^^ Be very true to him. Peace, ^^ she said, ^^ and 
 sooner or later thou shalt have thy heart's de- 
 sire. ^^ 
 
 I would fain show by this how niy lady felt 
 toward Oliver, for there be some who would 
 blame me for disobeying my father and cling- 
 ing to one who were not of my belief, but 
 though she were true to her own high thought 
 
64 A Lady of the Oldeji Time. 
 
 and followed after her husband in her desire 
 for freedom of worship, and condemned the 
 King, and believed that the days that were 
 coming to England tinder the leadership of the 
 great Cromwell, whom Master Fenwick had 
 known and seen much of in earlier days, were 
 better than those gone before, yet, forsooth, her 
 heart spoke louder for me than her head, and 
 she were ever one of those high-minded folk 
 who see good everywhere in friend or foe, and 
 dwelleth more on points of agreement than 
 those of difference. 
 
 I pressed her hand as I answered firmly, ^^ I 
 will be true to Oliver Bouteler, thy nephew and 
 my affianced lord.^^ 
 
 Then the little Dorothy cried, and we both 
 forgot ourselves in soothing her. That night 
 as I was braiding my lady's hair and rolling it 
 up beneath her white cap, she drew my face 
 down to hers and kissed me gravely and ten- 
 derly. 
 
 ^^ Last year,^^ she said, ^^when my husband 
 thought of returning to England I could scarce 
 contain myself for joy, but the year passed and 
 found us still at Saybrooke, and now I feel it 
 has been all for the best. Someone had to 
 leave home and come and make the desert 
 blossom as the rose; as well I as another. This 
 colony will grow, and mayhap some day those 
 who come after me may think gratefully of me. 
 Learn contentment here, as I have. I am 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 65 
 
 happy now, and no longer watch for ships far 
 out at sea.^^ 
 
 I know not why, or ever knew, why my father, 
 after my mother's death, had me christened 
 Peace, for I be of a most turbulent mind ; but 
 as I listened to the Lady Alice I became for a 
 time quiet like my name. I left her with the 
 baby Dorothy asleep on her arm, little thinking 
 of the morrow or what the night might bring 
 forth. It was towards midnight that Mistress 
 Elizabeth came and roused me. 
 
 ^^ Hasten ! ^^ she said, ^^ if thou wouldst see thy 
 cousin yet alive, for she is ill unto death. ^^ 
 
 I rose quickly and hastened to her bedside. 
 A sudden change had come in the night, and 
 her heart had failed her. When I reached her 
 she could no longer speak. Master Fenwick 
 held her in his arms, that she might breathe 
 more easily, and the little Dorothy still rested 
 beside her. Mistress Mary brought in little 
 Elizabeth to bid her farewell, and she smiled 
 graciously upon us. The passage home was 
 short. An hour later her frail body was silent ; 
 her soul was in a fairer port. It was then I 
 realized all the Lady Alice had been to me, and 
 of how, by her gracious smile, rather than over- 
 grave word, she had won my heart's devotion 
 and guided my giddy fancies and wild hopes. 
 
 When I saw her in the morning her beautiful 
 hair was smoothed back from her brow, her 
 hands were folded across her breast, her sweet 
 
 6* 
 
66 A Lady of the Olden. Time. 
 
 eyes were closed, they no longer watched for 
 ships far out at sea. The little Elizabeth had 
 laid a branch of red oak leaves at her feet, and 
 her head rested peacefully on a pillow of the 
 white everlasting flowers, gathered from the 
 fields a few weeks before. She lay there in 
 state like a queen, with a smile of unsurpassing 
 joy on her face, while all in our little colony 
 gathered about her to do her homage, and old 
 Warwick guarded the door of the room where 
 she lay. We laid her to rest on one of those 
 mild days of sunshine which do make us think 
 of summer, though winter be already here. We 
 covered her grave with pine and oak branches, 
 and came back through the desolate garden, 
 trying to comfort our sad hearts with thought 
 of her quiet assurance forever, leaving Master 
 Fenwick still standing over the place where she 
 lay, as if stunned with his own death blow. 
 This hath all happened in this sad November 
 of 1645. 
 
 There be talk now of the return of Master 
 Fenwick to England, and last night he sent for 
 me and gave me my choice, either to return 
 with him or remain, but he hath plainly stated 
 unto me that he goeth to England to endeavor 
 the enlargement of the patent, and that if he 
 be unsuccessful he may never return. He gave 
 me to the end of the week to think of it, but 
 my choice hath been already made to remain 
 
A Lady of the Olden Ti7ne. 67 
 
 beside the quiet grave yonder which containeth 
 precious dust, which hath in it the germ of 
 everlasting life. It hath also been decided to- 
 day that the Mistresses Mary and Elizabeth 
 Fenwick remain here with the two children, 
 tmder charge of our new chaplain, Dr. Thomas 
 Peters, who came to us this year, Master Hig- 
 ginson having gone to be with Rev. Master 
 Whitfield at Guilford. 
 
 December 20th, 1645. Yesterday Master Fen- 
 wick left us, and hath left a sadly vacant spot 
 behind. My heart almost failed me at the last 
 that I went not with him. My heart hath lost 
 all its spring these days, and is buried in my 
 lady's grave. The Baby Dorothy hath grown 
 into a winsome little maid, and be our great 
 consolation. I hath no word from England, 
 and I almost believe Oliver is dead. How do I 
 regret my sins of insobriety when I longed for 
 all men's praise. At times the last word my 
 lady saith cometh to me with comfort: ^^ Be 
 very true to thy lover. Peace, and sooner or 
 later thou shalt have thy heart's desire. ^^ But 
 I cannot, nay, I can never say with her that I 
 no longer watch for ships far out at sea. Spite 
 of the dreariness the winter is passing quickly. 
 The snow lieth heavily upon Lady Alice's grave, 
 but yesterday there came a day that had a 
 breath in it of the spring. 
 
68 A Lady of the Olde?i Time. 
 
 Since last writing the little Dorothy hath 
 grown to look more like my lady, and much 
 care of her hath set me dreaming as to what 
 my own children will look like. There will be 
 six of them I be fully determined, and I hath 
 already named them in my heart, for indeed 
 one be put to sore straits for amusement during 
 these long evenings, and it is for my children 
 and children's children I keep these records 
 of their mother's and grandmother's life at 
 lonely Fort Point. At this moment I stop and 
 look into my tiny copper mirror and find myself 
 not altogether old or ugly. My mirror, in fact, 
 telleth me pleasant tales every time I look into 
 it. I like my hair, and my face forsooth be 
 not ill-favored. I shall be quite content if my 
 six children, for whom I write this diary, look 
 like me; especially do I hope the girls will 
 have my mouth, which more than one swain 
 hath told me be right kissable. Now more than 
 ever am I feared at the thought that aught but 
 myself behold these pages written for my six 
 children, when for aught I see I may sign my- 
 self Peace Apsley, Spinster, to the day of my 
 death. The hound Warwick hath moaned 
 greatly since my lady hath gone, and yester 
 even I found him lying by her grave. He 
 watcheth by Dorothy when she sleepeth, as if 
 he had been left in charge of her. Verily, next 
 to a good home and those that make it, from 
 grandam to babe, a good dog friend should be 
 the most to be sought and valued. 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 69 
 
 And now, dear diary, I have come to that 
 part of my story when I am slow to record, 
 even for mine own eyes alone, what hath hap- 
 pened in these early spring gloamings when we 
 can once more live in the free air. I fear much 
 that this might fall into the hands of those who 
 would think me over-credulous, yet I wish for 
 my own and my children's sake to record it, for 
 to me the memory of what I have seen is sweet 
 and w^holesome, not dreadful or gruesome. One 
 evening nearly a month ago I were standing at 
 my old place near the garden wall, in the early 
 twilight. I could hear Elizabeth laughing as 
 she were going to bed, and Mistress Mary's 
 grave voice bidding her be quiet. The birds 
 had not stopped singing their even-song, when 
 I heard a sound behind me, though perhaps it 
 were less a sound than a breeze of soft and 
 fragrant air, a sense of a presence near me, and 
 then I turned and held my breath, for I saw 
 my lady, just as of old, coming down the garden 
 path in her dress of gray, and the last light of 
 evening rested on her head like a golden coro- 
 net. She seemed to be coming from the house 
 and turned neither to the right nor left. A 
 smile was on her face. Then she suddenly 
 vanished and it seemed only natural that she 
 should have been there visiting her children 
 before they went to sleep. I did not think of 
 it as a coming back from the dead. Every night 
 for three weeks I sat there at the same time, 
 
70 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 watching for her coming, and each night she 
 appeared, then slowly vanished over the water; 
 but one night she turned towards me and I 
 felt her presence coming nearer and nearer, and 
 I smelt something like the odor of violets in the 
 spring. Something soft seemed to touch me, and 
 I felt restful and sure that the future would 
 bring a blessing, and that after waiting I should 
 gain my heart's desire, more than any day since 
 she went away. Next morning I had been out 
 with Baby Dorothy to feed the rabbits, and the 
 little white things were running all about my 
 feet, glad as we were to be in the sunshine. I 
 had fed my lady's birds and all the little living 
 things she had loved and cared for, I had 
 weeded the flower border and tended the herb 
 garden, when I heard Warwick give the deep^ 
 baying bark with which he always greeted 
 strangers, but forsooth I thought not much of 
 it, for I had heard Dr. Peters say to Mistress 
 Mary that he expected Master Robert Chapman 
 to see him that day on matters of business and 
 dispatches recently received from New Haven, 
 But when later Mistress Mary called, bidding 
 me come in and tidy my hair, for there be some 
 one awaiting to see me, my heart beat wildly until 
 I stood in the living-room, and there he stood, 
 my lover, tall and unharmed, and twice as 
 bonny as when I last saw him, though some- 
 what graver withal ; and neither Mistresses Eliz- 
 abeth nor Mary being present, but just we two 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time 71 
 
 alone at last, I did what a maid's heart hath 
 prompted her to do in all ages when she seeth 
 her lover returned from the wars, — flung my 
 arms around his strong neck and buried my 
 face on his shoulder, and asked him a hundred 
 questions and called him a thousand loving 
 names, and knew not whether my name were 
 Peace or Mehitable, or whether the war was 
 over or whether my mirror lied, but did know 
 that it were peace for me all over the earth at 
 last, and so he said also that Peace was declared 
 for him, as soon as I allowed him breath to 
 speak. 
 
 Of all we said and of all we thought and of 
 all we planned that day, the 4th of May, 1646, 
 not even diaries may tell. It seemeth a year, 
 though it be but a few days ago. Those who 
 have waited and watched and grown heart-sick 
 and then have had it cease will know, and to 
 those who have not it would be hardly worth 
 the telling. 
 
 '¥¥ 
 
 That evening Oliver told us all that had 
 happened in England during the past year. He 
 had left home, being no longer of use to his 
 King, and in answer to a message from Master 
 Fenwick, through my lady's good word for us, 
 bidding him seek me at Fort Point, and for her 
 dear sake he had given him letters to His 
 Excellency, Governor Winthrop, and others 
 
72 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 high in authority, that he coming almost as 
 a fugitive to Massachusetts should nevertheless 
 not be unfavorably received in these new 
 colonies. He had, moreover, saved something 
 of his private fortune, though the family estates 
 were confiscated. His father, Sir William 
 Bouteler, had been killed at the battle of Cro- 
 predy Bridge two years before, and he, too, had 
 been seriously wounded at Naseby June 14, 
 1645, and for many days his life had been 
 despaired of. He described unto us the rout- 
 ing of the battle of Naseby, when even the 
 royal papers fell into the conqueror's hands, and 
 the final surrender at Bristol which took place 
 last September. Up to the new year he had 
 lain ill of his wounds, and recovering, had seen 
 Master Fenwick and had set sail from South- 
 hampton for Boston in March. He had had a 
 fair voyage, and landing in Boston and carrying 
 his letters to Governor Winthrop, had already 
 received a position in the commonwealth of 
 Massachusetts, and naught now remained but 
 for me to become his wife and return with him 
 to Boston, stopping for a brief space in Hart- 
 ford, where he had been liberally entertained 
 by the Wolcotts and Master Sherman, who had 
 known my lady, and who desired greatly to 
 behold his bride, of whose beauty and favor he 
 said they were already fully assured. 
 
 ^^ Oliver, ^^ said I, blushing for his saying this 
 before them all. " I am not prepared to marry 
 
A Lady of the Olden Tinie. 73 
 
 thee so quickly. It be a weighty matter to 
 decide without thought. How can I marry 
 without my father's consent and without telling 
 Rosell ? This I said weakly, for indeed I knew 
 not what to say. But Oliver caught my hands 
 and looked gravely down into my face. 
 
 *^ Little think we shall ever wed, fair Peace, if 
 thou wait for thy father's consent, and that 
 thou knowest full well ? Thy father be chief 
 friend to Cromwell, and thy sister Rosell was 
 recently betrothed to one Master Ducksworth, 
 a kinsman of Fairfax, one of the routers of 
 Naseby, whom thou hast known in the past.** 
 
 Then up spoke Dr. Peters and said that 
 Master Fenwick had already spoken to him of 
 the possibility of our marriage and that in these 
 troublous times it were a great thing for a 
 maid to have a true and faithful man for a pro- 
 tector, and that Mistress Mary already knew of 
 the quest of young Sir Oliver and approved the 
 marriage. That at any moment the settlement 
 at Saybrooke might be left by them, for if 
 Master Fenwick did not return in a few years 
 he had given orders that his children should be 
 taken to him. 
 
 ^^Doth thou desire this man for a husband, 
 Mistress Peace ? ** he asked, as I still delayed 
 my answer. 
 
 *^ Sometime,** I said at last, faintly, *^but I 
 would like more time for courting.** 
 
 *^ Nothing stands in the way of thy being 
 
 7 
 
74 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 joined together save thy wayward will, young 
 mistress. Thy lady cousin desired it and thou 
 hath the consent of all present, and surely 
 through five years thou hast had time enough 
 for thinking. ^^ 
 
 Then I turned and held out my hand to 
 Oliver and said: 
 
 ^^ I will be thy wedded wife.^^ And Dr. Peters 
 held our hands together for a moment and the 
 Mistresses Mary and Elizabeth kissed me, and 
 when I went up stairs to bed I heard them 
 planning together about my wedding clothes, 
 as if I had no part in the matter. 
 
 Two days later. This morning I arose and 
 looked out towards where the sun was rising 
 over the river, where only a few years since 
 Pequots and Narragansetts fought like savage 
 men. All was calm and peaceful, and as I 
 beheld the brown houses of our little settle- 
 ment, I felt loath to leave it. I have to-day 
 taken from my chest the blue-figured dimity 
 and the white lute-string ribands which Rosell 
 sent me. Little did I think it would ever be 
 used for my wedding gown. Mistress Mary 
 hath been helping me to fashion it and hath 
 given me a kerchief of fine lawn and Mistress 
 Elizabeth a jewelled heart which belonged to 
 Lady Alice. Masters Mason and Huntington 
 liath also been here to-day to bid me joy, and 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 75 
 
 the news of my marriage hath spread among 
 all who dwelleth at Saybrooke. They be some- 
 what grave, for it be no matter for merriment 
 this bringing of the wilderness into captivity, 
 yet a wedding be a wedding the world over. 
 It hath the sound of fiddles in it and it be full 
 of right hearty love and good will. 
 
 Yesterday we were married, and they said I 
 looked not unlike a bride in my dimity over 
 a white satin petticoat, and Oliver liked me 
 the better for the blue forget-me-nots on my 
 gown. As I was looking my last in the mirror 
 little Elizabeth brought me a bunch of daffodils 
 from the garden and I wore them, all unmind- 
 ful of poor Master Higginson and the four dead 
 daffodils that lay a year ago on the garden seat. 
 I need not Master Herrick's divinations now. 
 We were married in the garden under one of 
 John Winthrop's apple trees which had blos- 
 somed on purpose for my wedding day, and the 
 sun never shone and the birds never sung more 
 merrily than on the morning of May 10, 1646. 
 Afterwards we had a wedding feast and much 
 fun and laughter, and everyone said they would 
 miss me, and for a brief space Lady Peace 
 Bouteler were the most important woman in 
 the whole united colonies. Warwick came to 
 my wedding with a white cockade tied to his 
 neck and the rabbits were let out to make all 
 
76 A Lady of the Olden Tifue. 
 
 the havoc they could, and Baby Dorothy cooed 
 like a wood pigeon, as she sat on Master Bald- 
 win's coat on the grass, as Dr. Peters pro- 
 nounced us man and wife. I am sure if we had 
 been in old England we could not have had a 
 merrier wedding. To-morrow we begin the 
 long journey to Boston, going through Hartford, 
 where Oliver's friends await us. Last night 
 Oliver and I visited my lady's grave in the 
 moonlight and I laid my wedding flowers in the 
 shape of a star upon it and prayed I might be 
 as good a wife as she had been. Afterwards 
 we sat together on the garden seat and said 
 pleasant things to each other, while the moon 
 made a silver track across the water. Then it 
 was that once again I saw my lady dressed all 
 in white walk down the garden border and 
 wave her hand in blessing and farewell ere she 
 vanished in the silver moonlight on the sea. I 
 had told my husband all about her, and though 
 he could not see her as clearly as I could, he 
 still thought he saw a shadowy figure standing 
 on the waters' brink before it faded into silver 
 light. 
 
 To-day we leave old Fort Point forever, 
 though Oliver, my husband, saith ^^ forever be a 
 long time.^^ Now that the parting hour hath 
 come, such is the changeableness of woman, I 
 am loath to depart. I love the river where it 
 peacefully weds the sea. I love much of our 
 life, and mostly do I hate to leave baby Dorothy, 
 
A Lady of the 01 Jen Time. 77 
 
 and the spot where my dear Lady Alice Fenwick 
 sleeps until the resurrection morn. But my 
 last hour here has come and I must end this 
 little book that hath been the solace of so many 
 weary hours. I wonder, a little timidly, of 
 what lies beyond the vast forests to the north- 
 ward wdiere I must begin a larger book of life, 
 but whatever the future may hold I and my 
 true love, now imited forever, shall meet it 
 henceforth hand in hand. Thus little book, writ- 
 ten not now for my impossible children, I sign my 
 new name, token that all's well that ends well. 
 
 Peace Bouteler. 
 Fort Point, Saybrooke, May 13, 1646. 
 
 Flavia ended the narrative and left a pensive 
 group about the fire. She glanced over toward 
 the corner where Richard and Phyllis sat behind 
 the tea table and thought she saw their hands 
 meet behind the tea cups, but it might not have 
 been so, for they sat in deep shadow. The drift- 
 wood which Mark and Luke had brought in, in 
 the early raorning, had nearly burnt itself away, 
 though Harry had been constantly in care of it 
 and built the fire in economical fortresses, with 
 Penelope to help him. He said it was because 
 of her name, the Lady Penelope of unraveled 
 webs, that when Flavia had finished the fire was 
 smouldering and only occasionally bursting 
 into flame. Maud had been sketching the four 
 
78 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 men as they sat in the firelight. Carlotta 
 promptly lighted the parlor lamps and stole 
 from the room to beat up a Welch Rabbit and 
 for beer. Thus ends all romance in mundane 
 things. Harry went to the kitchen for more 
 wood and rebuilt the fire. The wind was blow- 
 ing a regular Pequot-Narragansett War gale, 
 across the old north cove, and it suddenly came 
 upon them that it was their last night in the 
 old house. Others might come next summer as 
 Flavia's guests, but they might never come 
 agfain, and a little chill of sadness stole over 
 them, until Adel asked Flavia some question 
 about Peace Apsley's diary which loosened their 
 tongues. Whether the MS. was true or not, 
 they all believed in its authenticity, and were for 
 having it either made known to the public or 
 registered among colonial records. Mark was 
 very doubtful about the genuineness of the dog 
 rhyme to Master Higgins, and they were left in 
 doubt as to whether it were written by Mistress 
 Flavia of the 19th century, or Mistress Peace 
 of the 17th century. 
 
 <^ Just how much of that did you write your- 
 self ?^^ asked Luke. 
 
 ^^ I rewrote the whole of this diary. I had to 
 often supply words and sense, but I changed it 
 as little from the original document as possible, ^^ 
 answered Flavia with dignity. 
 
 " The two Evangelists had better be careful 
 what they say,^^ said Maud. ^^Luke ought to 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 79 
 
 be called ^doubtful Thomas^; he was mis- 
 named.^^ Phillis and Richard here became anx- 
 ious to know what became of Peace Apsley and 
 her husband after they had left Fort Point, and 
 Flavia again grew suspicious of those shadowy 
 hands behind the cups. The little party broke 
 up when Carlotta announced supper in the din- 
 ing-room, and an hour later the men sallied 
 forth into the teeth of a northeast gale and re- 
 turned to the little hotel at the Point, leaving 
 the maidens to retire for their last night's sleep 
 under the old roof tree which for several hun- 
 dred years had sheltered so many sorrowful or 
 joyful hearts. 
 
 ^^Dear old house,^^ said Maud, as she went 
 about with Flavia closing blinds and shutting 
 down windows. ^^ What a jolly, good time we 
 have had in you ! How many people have had 
 a jolly, good time in you ? Your walls should 
 fairly crack with laughter, your beams jump up 
 and down for joy. You should be called Merri- 
 ment Cottage or Laughter Lodge ! ^^ 
 
 ^^ Shades of the Puritans ! ^^ exclaimed Phillis 
 sleepily from the other room. ^^ Remember 
 Maud, you belong to a sober commonwealth. 
 You're not in Paris, just come back from the 
 Opera Comique. It is past midnight. Put out 
 the lights and go to bed. ^* 
 
 Next day they were all scattered, and the old 
 
8o A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 brown house by the roadside had entered into 
 its long winter rest. They persuaded Flavia 
 that her time could not be better employed than 
 in carefully editing the treasured MS., and in 
 investigating into the final destiny of each of 
 the inmates of the Fort in Peace Apsley's time, 
 as they all desired the narrative to end like an 
 old-fashioned play with all the characters on 
 the stage and blissfully or otherwise disposed 
 of. 
 
 Of the subsequent career of Colonel George 
 Fen wick, she found that in July, 1646, he was 
 appointed by Parliament one of the commis- 
 sioners to estabhsh and secure peace between 
 England and Scotland. In May, 1647, he was 
 serving the army in Ireland. The next year 
 he was in the north with his friend. Sir A. Hasel- 
 rigge. Governor of New Castle, acting for the 
 Parliament. In 1648, he commanded Northum- 
 berland's newly raised regiment, and in July 
 he participated in a gallant victory against 
 Langdale's forces under Sir Richard Tempest, 
 for which a public thanksgiving was ordered by 
 Parliament. In October, 165 1, he was appointed 
 one of the commissioners for the affairs of Scot- 
 land, a commission in which he was associated 
 with Chief Justice St. John, Sir Harry Vane, 
 General Monk, and other leaders of the parlia- 
 mentary party. Other records also say that he 
 was appointed, but did not act, as a judge in the 
 trial of Charles I, 1649, ^s he had also been for 
 many years a lawyer of Grey's Inn. 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 8i 
 
 In 1652, he was made governor of Berwick, 
 and in November of the same year he married 
 at Clapham in Surray, for his second wife, Kath- 
 rene, daughter of Sir Arthur Haselrigge. 
 
 In 1656, Colonel Fenwick was returned as a 
 member for Berwick in Cromwell's new Parlia- 
 ment, but he did not meet with the approbation ^ 
 of the council, Cromwell being now supreme.' 
 His last appearance in public life is as one of 
 the subscribers to a remonstrance addressed to 
 the Speaker of the House, September, 1656, 
 inveighing against the unwarrantable usurpa- 
 tion of power and infringement of the liberties 
 of Parliament by Cromwell. 
 
 He died in the ensuing spring, and his epi- 
 taph in the church at Berwick reads thus : 
 
 Col. George Fenwick, 
 of Brinkburn, Esq. 
 Governor of Berwick in the year 
 1652. 
 Was a principal instrument of causing this church 
 to be built, and died March 15th, 1656. 
 
 A good man is a public good. 
 
 After Peace Apsley's departure from Say- 
 brooke, the family lingered there only till the 
 children were old enough to be carried to their 
 father in England. The little Elizabeth mar- 
 ried her cousin, Roger Fenwick of Stanton, 
 while Baby Dorothy, the younger sister, mar- 
 ried Sir Thomas Williamson of East Markham, 
 in Nottinghamshire, and afterwards of North 
 4* 
 
82 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 Weartnouth Hall, County of Durham. She died 
 Nov. 4, 1699, on her birthday, aged fifty-four. 
 
 Mistress Elizabeth Fenwick, Colonel Fen- 
 wick's sister, married May 20, 1648, Captain 
 John Cullick, a prominent citizen of Hartford 
 from 1648 to 1658. He removed with his wife 
 to Boston in 1659, where doubtless his wife once 
 more met Peace Bouteler. He died there in 
 January, 1663, and the Mistress Elizabeth made 
 another venture on the matrimonial sea and 
 married Richard Ely of Boston. She had a son, 
 John Cullick, by her first husband, whb gradu- 
 ated at Harvard College in 1668, and two 
 daughters, Elizabeth and Mary. Elizabeth 
 married Benjamin Batten of Boston, and he it 
 was who erected the monument to the memory 
 of Lady Fenwick as it now stands, as appears 
 by the receipt of Matthew Griswold, given in 
 1659, and recorded in Saybrook. 
 
 Of Mistress Mary Fenwick, Flavia could find 
 no record, save that the winter after Peace Aps- 
 ley's departure from Fort Point, there was 
 found an uncertain record of the death of one 
 of Colonel Fenwick's relatives, which, as nought 
 further could be found of Mistress Mary, might 
 have been that lady. 
 
 Of good Master Higginson the accounts were 
 brief, save that after serving with Rev. Henry 
 Whitfield at Guilford, he was called to minister 
 to the church in Salem, where he remained a 
 faithful minister of God's Word imtil he was 
 called to the Heavenly Salem beyond. 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 83 
 
 In 1647 the first fort within the enclosure of 
 which Lady Fenwick was buried was destroyed 
 by fire, and in the following year the new fort 
 was built close to the river's brink, the earth- 
 works of which are within the memory of 
 many still living, as it was not destroyed till 
 1870. 
 
 Flavia looked in vain for further records of 
 Peace Apsley, but found out absolutely nothing, 
 and had almost given it up in despair until one 
 day she was invited out to dinner in Boston by 
 some friends whom she had met while traveling 
 in England, but whom she had never visited 
 before. She found them living in a charming 
 house, and dinner was served in a delightful 
 oak wainscoted dining-room, hung with family 
 portraits. Flavia, who sat opposite the fire- 
 place, was especially attracted by the portrait of 
 a very beautiful young woman, in a filmy dress 
 of blue and white, with a single brilliant on a 
 piece of dark velvet round her throat. Her 
 head was set against a background of apple 
 boughs, and she wore daffodils on her breast 
 and in her hair. Flavia became more and more 
 attracted by the charming face, full of wit and 
 brilliance. The brown hair was brushed up 
 from the forehead and fell in little rebellious 
 curls about the delicate pink shells of ears, 
 while the blue eyes seem to gleam with secret 
 laughter. Presently the conversation fell on 
 
84 A Lady of the Oldeit Time, 
 
 family portraits, and their host discoursed flu- 
 ently on Copley, Gainsborough, and Stuart, 
 while he made his wife nervous by wiping his 
 fingers vigorously on the priceless doylie under 
 his finger bowl, a habit some men have. What 
 he was saying, however, was far more interest- 
 ing to Flavia than all the lace doylies in Chris- 
 tendom, for he gave her opportunity of asking 
 about the portrait opposite her. Then Madame, 
 her hostess, fiushed with honest pride and forgot 
 all about the crushed doylie. 
 
 ^^ That is a portrait, ^^ she said, ^^ of my ances- 
 tress, Lady Peace Bouteler, who was a great 
 beauty and leader of society here in early colo- 
 nial days, but who returned to England after 
 the Restoration. Let me see, I think she had 
 some connection with your early Connecticut 
 history, for she came out with the Fen wicks and 
 settled at Saybrook in — well, some time in the 
 17th century. I have so much to do I can never 
 remember dates. ^^ 
 
 ^^ Was her maiden name Peace Apsley ? ^* 
 asked Flavia. 
 
 ^^ Yes. What a memory you have for history! 
 I did not know she was prominent enough to 
 have found her way into the colonial records. ^^ 
 
 Flavia smiled and dipped her finger-tips into 
 the rose-colored finger-bowl contentedly. After 
 dinner she went and stood for a long time in 
 front of the fireplace, looking into the face of 
 Peace Apsley, painted in her wedding gown. The 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 85 
 
 happy smile, the delicate hands told the story of 
 peace and plenty. Flavia closed her eyes for a 
 moment and summoned back the vision of that 
 old colonial life, until she could almost smell 
 apple blossoms and pick daffodils. She thought 
 also of the dear house party and their last night 
 in the old house. Of Richard and Phillis, now 
 married; of Harry and Penelope, engaged; of 
 Helen and Maud, back in Paris, leading the old 
 artist life, and of one of their company who had 
 gone a long journey to the better land. Then 
 she opened her eyes again and found Peace 
 Apsley looking down into her face, with the 
 same frank smile, and it seemed as if she were 
 meeting some dear old friend once more, and as 
 if no time had passed since the portrait was 
 painted, long ago. 
 
 ^^ You seem fascinated with my ancestress, ^^ 
 said her hostess beside her. 
 
 ^^ I am,^^ said Flavia. ^^ Tell me more about 
 her? Did she go back to England and what 
 was her subsequent life ? ^^ 
 
 Her hostess laughed. ^^ I am so sorry I can- 
 not tell you ; you see it all happened so long 
 ago, and to tell you the truth the present is so 
 much more interesting, and I am so much in- 
 terested in diet-kitchens and education and 
 Buddhism. ^^ 
 
 And with that Flavia had to be content, and 
 she was, for she always felt after that as if she 
 had seen a vision of Peace just as Peace Apsley 
 
86 A Lady of the Olden Time. 
 
 herself once saw the white vision of Lady Fen- 
 wick come down the garden path at Fort Point. 
 
 Things have changed now down at the old 
 harbor town. Thirty- five years have perhaps 
 wrought more changes than in all the centuries 
 before. The fort has gone, not a vestige of it 
 remains. Huge iron birds, full of blackness 
 and smoke and moulten fire, with death in their 
 path fly on steel rails across where once the old 
 colonial life was lived, across the garden where 
 Peace Apsley used to sit and where the Lady 
 Alice once stood looking wistfully across the 
 blue waters. Lady Fenwick now rests with 
 many others in the old graveyard at the Point, 
 who have served the state and commonwealth 
 in past days. Her grave, which was a lonely 
 landmark for so many years, ceased to be so 
 when she was reinterred in 1870, with appro- 
 priate commemorative services. Sometimes in 
 crossing the fields near where she rested you 
 may yet pick bits of lavender and wonder 
 whether they are estrays from her herb garden. 
 Across the field and on the edge of the marsh you 
 may see late in August a gorgeous hedge of rose 
 mallows and wonder whether she found strange 
 merits in mallows for the sick. The whistle of 
 the engine, the noise of nineteenth century 
 civilization, long since drove away her walking 
 spirit. Probably Peace Bouteler saw her appa- 
 
A Lady of the Olden Time. 87 
 
 rition for the last time in the moonlight in the 
 garden on the evening of her wedding day. 
 Call it, however, a ghostly presence or a per- 
 vading influence, or what you like, her presence 
 still does linger over this land of her adoption. 
 It comes to us as the sweet melody of a half 
 forgotten tune or as a nosegay of old memories 
 'mid the rush of nineteenth century life. There 
 is very little of the real about it, but that little 
 is fragrant and filled with the heroic devotion 
 to duty, strong fibre of character and the high 
 courage of those women of the old time life who 
 were among our pioneer settlers. As we stand 
 beside her tomb in the old graveyard at Say- 
 brook Point, we may gain a mental vision at 
 least of stately beauty and of gentle culture, 
 and feel our hearts thrill with a finer courage 
 and a more exalted sense of life and its purpose, 
 through the memory of this lady of the olden 
 time. 
 

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