Meanwhile, there was smallpox in Chester and three of Mrs Wandesford's household took the terrifying disease.
First to fall ill was seven-year-old John, who caught it from their cousin William Wandesford's sons who were also living in Chester. Alice was forbidden to go near John but she couldn't resist sending him letters tied to a little dog's neck. Was it because the little dog had been taken into his bed that Alice caught the infection? Was it the shock she suffered at the first sight of his poor little scarred face – he had been a beautiful child and of a sweet complexion? At any rate, now she was taken very ill. They thought this was because the pustules were staying near her heart instead of erupting through her skin. More fearful, anxious nursing for Mrs Wandesford, more watching by the bedside at night ... and at last Alice, too, recovered.
But a nine-year-old boy called Frank Kelly did not survive. Mr Wandesford had been bowling on the Green in Dublin one day when he noticed that Frank was gathering up his bowls for him. He was taken with this quick-witted, ragged orphan who gladly joined the Wandesford household, which grew very fond of him, and he was duly educated in Anglicanism to save his immortal soul. His sight was eaten out with the smallpox, Alice remembered, and his mouth very sore. They cared for him tenderly – Mrs Wandesford, who dressed his sores as attentively as if he had been her own child, two watchers, the doctor and his medicines – but they could not save him and he died after a fortnight's suffering.
Then the war came unexpectedly close.
Early on 17 July 1643, Alice had been at prayer in the first morning and was now standing looking out at the church of St Mary on the Hill from an open window in the tirritt – which must mean the projecting upper bay – of their house. Out of nowhere there came a shot, passing so close by that the casement window shut with a bang and the whole tirritt shook. She was left breathless and shaking with fright. The enemy was at the city walls.
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| Old Chester: the Cross and Rows, photographed c1895 |
Sir William Brereton, a wealthy Cheshire landowner, ardent Puritan and very effective military commander, had launched a probing attack against the city's defences. After two days, his forces moved on. Alice was told a consoling tale of incompetence and failure on the part of the besiegers. Three granados – explosive shells fired from a mortar – were shot into the town. One hit the sconce – a detached fort – within the walls. Two of Captain Manwaring's men seized an ox hide and smothered it. The second landed among a company of women out milking in a pasture, but it fell in a ditch and was quenched. The third, she was told, fell among Brereton's horse and killed many, so that they raised the siege. In fact, the city was too well defended and Sir William Brereton's forces moved off. They would return.
While the city fathers strengthened the defences, Mrs Wandesford made her plans to leave for the Royalist North Riding.
Travelling east: 1643
On 28 August 1643, Mrs Wandesford and her three children, now aged between nine and seventeen, set off for Yorkshire. With them were several servants and also some tenants – they must have been the people who had left Yorkshire to build Mr Wandesford's new town of Castlecomer and had expected, until the rebellion, to make a life there. They made an inoffensive company and they were travelling light. Mrs Wandesford's status as a widowed gentlewoman should be some protection – though there were horrid and frightening stories, of course – and she could reasonably hope for the courteous assistance of Parliamentary commanders.
They had some 125 miles ahead of them and a crossing of the wild Pennines. Roads across the uplands were hardly ever more than drove roads and pack horse trails, and Mrs Wandesford had a choice. She could follow the valley of the River Wharfe towards Ripley. That would allow them to take a coach, but it would lead them uncomfortably close to the Parliamentarian cloth manufacturing districts of the West Riding and the Puritan town of Otley. Or they could choose the more northerly, steeper crossing past Blubberhouses, but that would be best ridden. Alice usually makes a point of mentioning a coach journey, and she doesn't here – so perhaps they rode.
The first stages of their journey were through territory controlled by Parliament. After travelling some twenty miles, they came wearily into Warrington in the West Derby Hundred of Lancashire at ten o'clock at night.
Warrington had been surrendered to Sir William Brereton's forces on 20 May. It was now under its new governor, the moderate Presbyterian, Sir George Booth.
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| Sir William Brereton (1604-61) |
They had an uneasy night, as the town was several times alarmed by reports that Royalists from Chester were approaching.
Leaving Warrington, they would pass through the Blackburn Hundred where Colonel Richard Shuttleworth of Gawthorpe Hall commanded the army for Parliament. He gave Mrs Wandesford a pass, by means of which they journeyed the dozen miles to the Royalist town of Wigan.
Parliamentary forces had sacked the town in April and when they left had taken many prisoners and as much booty as they could carry. The Wandesfords found it, Alice remembered, sorely demolished and all the windows broken. The trauma was still vivid and the travellers' arrival frightened the townspeople, who were scared that they were Parliamentarians. The soldiers had cursed them as Papist dogs and had forced them to watch as they burned five hundred of their Bibles and prayer books at the market cross, claiming there was Popery in them. Mrs Wandesford was gladly welcomed among them once they realised she was the great niece of Edward Fleetwood, who had been their Rector for thirty years in the last century, and whose memory was still treasured. They flocked to see her and were as kind as could possibly be. Alice remembered that even though their Bibles and prayer books were burned, they never missed morning prayers at six and afternoon prayers at four.
The next day the party travelled on to the Yorkshire-Lancashire border. Some thirty miles from Wigan, they reached Downham near Whalley, three miles from Clitheroe.
But they weren't allowed to go on. A Parliamentary corporal and his men refused to believe Colonel Shuttleworth's pass was genuine and made them get down with threats and oaths. Their harsh language and abusive behaviour were terrifying. Mrs Wandesford and her children were forced to take shelter in a poor dwelling where they lay all night with heavy hearts, fearing that they were about to be used barbarously. All they could do was wait and hope while one of their servants and two of the soldiers went to find Colonel Shuttleworth, who was ten miles away. He was, not surprisingly, angry when he saw his own pass and heard what had happened and he sent his son-in-law Captain John Ashton of Cuerdale to deal with the matter and punish the soldiers. Captain Ashton and his men then escorted Mrs Wandesford and her party to the edge of his jurisdiction.
Now they needed to get to the other side of the Pennines. Their next destination was probably Skipton Castle, about sixteen miles away. It was held by the Royalists and was under siege from the Parliamentarians – but the siege was not very active at this point and Mrs Wandesford had her pass from Colonel Shuttleworth and perhaps also the escort of Captain John Ashton.
From Skipton they could ride east to the Royalist stronghold of Knaresborough Castle, or to Ripley Castle, which was held by Sir William Ingleby for the King. That would be a journey of twenty to twenty-five miles across wild, empty countryside, climbing to 1,000 feet before dropping down to Blubberhouses, a hamlet of a few mining cottages. Then there would just be the final twenty miles or so to Snape, which lies between Kirklington and Bedale. Snape was their destination – it was one of Sir Thomas Danby's manors and Catherine was living there while he was with the King's armies. She had invited them to come and stay with her.
They arrived at Snape on 2 September 1643. They had been six days on the road but now they were in their own country. For about a year they lived, Alice wrote, with great comfort and safety with her sweet sister Danby at Snape.
