The time was now approaching when Sir Hugh was to play a more conspicuous part in public affairs than he had yet performed. In June. 1637, two Holland men-of-war chased into Whitby harbour a small Dunkirk vessel belonging to the King of Spain. Sir Hugh, having heard of the circumstance, went to the Dutch captains, and ordered them not to offer any act of hostility, for that the Spaniard was the King's friend. After some expostulations they promised they would not harm the Dunkirker if he offered no injury to them. However, after leaving Sir Hugh, the Holland captains sent for the Dunkirk captain to dine with them, and soon after took occasion to quarrel with him, at the same time ordering their men to fall upon the Dunkirk ship. Meantime Sir Hugh, hearing some pistols discharged, made haste to the shore, having only a cane in his hand. On his arrival at the scene he found one of the Holland captains with a pistol in his hand calling to his men, who were then in the Dunkirk ship, to send a boat for him. Sir Hugh hailed him, and keeping him in talk till he got near him, caught hold of the pistol. Then some one in the ship cocked a musket at him; but Sir Hugh caught sight of him in time, and turning the captain between himself and the ship, prevented the man from firing. As soon as the captain had been arrested, Sir Hugh caused a boat to be manned, in order to recapture the ship. But when the Hollanders saw it approaching they fled out of the vessel to get away to their own ships. In the afternoon, Sir Hugh intercepted a letter on its way to the captain, telling him to be of good cheer, for they would land at midnight with two hundred men to take him away. Sir Hugh finding what was in contemplation, instantly gave notice to Sir John Hotham, who was then sheriff of the county, to come to him with all the train-bands he could muster. Accordingly they had about two hundred men on guard that night, and no rescue was attempted; but they were so inexpert, that not one amongst them, except some few sailors, knew at all how to handle their arms or discharge a musket. “Happy had it been for this nation,” adds Sir Hugh, “if they had continued in that ignorance.”
In A.D. 1640, at the beginning of the Short Parliament, the Earl of Strafford, then Deputy of Ireland, returned to London. Sir Hugh Chomley, as soon as he heard of his arrival, went to his lodging to do his service to him. To his surprise, however, he was not only barred the freedom of going into his bedchamber, as he had used to do; but when the Earl came out and saluted divers gentlemen, he passed by Sir Hugh as though he did not know him, and moreover with some scorn, which Sir Hugh's temperament could ill bear. The fact was that Strafford was displeased with him because he had refused to pay ship-money. Nor was his anger shown only in his personal behaviour. For he not only put Sir Hugh out of his commissions as Justice of the Peace, Deputy-Lieutenant, and Colonel, but, as soon as the Parliament was dissolved, he caused him to be brought before the Council, and there accused him of words which he had never spoken in the House, nor could they be proved against him. On his return to Yorkshire, Sir Hugh attended a public meeting of the gentry, which was held at the High Sheriff's. There it was agreed that an address should be made to the Lords of the Council, and a remonstrance of the grievances under which the country was labouring. Sir Hugh Chomley, Sir John Hotham, and one or two other gentlemen were accordingly requested to draw up a petition. Having withdrawn into a private room, the business was quickly done, Sir John Hotham and Sir Hugh having already got a petition in their pockets, which they had drawn up previously to the meeting. Although it was couched in what Sir Hugh calls a “pretty high style,” it was approved and signed by about one hundred of the nobility and gentry. A gentleman was sent up purposely to deliver it; and it having been the first complaint which had been made touching the King's prerogative, it somewhat startled the Council. Soon afterwards, the King coming to Yorkshire, and summoning all the train-bands to York, would have returned Sir Hugh to his commission. He refused, however, saying, “Either he did not deserve to have it taken from him, or not so soon to be restored.” Afterwards he went privately to the King to thank him for the favour he had done him. He then told him that he had not refused to accept the regiment because he declined to do his Majesty service, but because he would not serve under the Earl of Strafford, who was then general of the army, as he lay under his displeasure. However, his brother, Sir Henry Chomley, might have the regiment, and would be ready to do his Majesty service. To this the King replied, “that they would not march with him;” but Sir High answered that they would, and himself promised to bring them to the place of rendezvous. On the retreat of the King to York, his Majesty desired the gentry to meet the Earl of Strafford at the Town Hall the next day, to consult about the marching of the train-bands; but the gentlemen, as soon as they had left the presence of the King, went to an inn and drew up a statement, showing that they could not consent to his Majesty's proposition, and desiring him to call a parliament. Lord Fairfax was next chosen to deliver the petition, but was unable to do so until the next day, when most of the gentry had left the place. Meantime Strafford, taking advantage of the circumstance, gave the King a notion of the sentiments of the country entirely different from those expressed in the petition. Whereupon Sir John Hotham, Sir John Savill, Sir Hugh Chomley, and some others, to the number of about sixteen gentlemen, met together to consider how they might petition his Majesty once more. However, one the number gave notice to the court of the meeting, on which Sir Hugh, Mr. Bellasis, and Lord Wharton were sent for to the King. His Majesty then told them that “it was not lawful for them to meet in that manner upon petitions; that he might question them in the Star Chamber for it, but would at that time pass it over, because he loved them all so well, but charged them never to meddle more in petitioning him in that kind.” After many other good words to the same effect, his Majesty dismissed them. The next morning, however, just as Sir Hugh and Sir John Hotham were ready to put foot into stirrup, Charles sent a man of the name of Stockdale to bring them before him. On entering his presence, his Majesty reproved the two gentlemen in very sharp words, telling them “they had been the chief cause and promoters of all the petitions from that country,” adding in plain terms, “that if ever they meddled, or had any hand in any more, he would hang them.” To this speech Sir Hugh made the following answer: “Sir, we are then in a very sad condition; for now the Lord President and those you set governors over us may injure and oppress us without hope of redress; since we, being country gentlemen, and without acquaintance in court, have no means but by petition to make our grievances known to your Majesty.” Then the King answered, “Whenever you have any cause of complaint come to me, and I will hear it.” On which Sir Hugh humbly thanked his Majesty, and the three gentlemen took their leave.
Having on former occasions refused ship-money, and showed himself jealous for the public liberties, Sir Hugh was much looked up to in the Parliament which met in 1641. Accordingly in the following year he was nominated one of the commissioners to go to the King, and give assurance to his Majesty of the sincerity of the Parliament. But when Sir Hugh came to receive his instructions from Pym, he found that they were enjoined to draw the train-bands together, and to oppose the King whenever it was necessary in the interests of the people. These orders Sir Hugh refused to accept, saying, “it were to begin the war, which he intended not;” on which Pym desired him to draw up the instructions in any way he liked. But Lord Fairfax and Sir Hugh departing before they could be finished, the orders were brought by Lord Howard and Stapylton, and, though not so explicit as they had been at first, contained much to which Sir Hugh could not assent. On the arrival of the commissioners at York, they found there were few about the King except such as were soldiers of fortune, or such as were no friends to the public peace.
“I discovered also [Sir Hugh says] that there was a party about the King which held intelligence with another prevalent one in Parliament; both of which so well concurred in fomenting distractions, as whensoever the King offered anything that was reasonable, the party in Parliament caused it to be rejected. And whenever the Parliament did seem to comply to the King, that party with him made it disliked; s
o that the Searcher of all hearts knows I was infinitely troubled at the distractions likely to succeed. After some prayers to the Lord for directions, and in the depth of my trouble taking a little psalter-book in my hand, I used to read in, I first cast my eye on the 6th and 7th verses of the 120th psalm, which was :--“My soul hath long dwelt with him that hateth peace. I am for peace: but when I speak, they are for war.””
Then reading the following 121st psalm, Sir Hugh says his heart was enlightened and cheered up beyond imagination, so that ever after he went cheerfully on in performance of his duty, without any trouble or disturbance. While his Majesty was at York the commissioners sent a paper of nineteen propositions from the Parliament to the King, which Sir Hugh thought the most unjust and unreasonable that were ever made to any monarch. When the propositions were presented it fell to Sir Hugh's turn to read, but he would not, and passed on the paper to Sir Richard Stapylton. He was afterwards appointed to carry the King's answer to the Parliament. A month afterwards he was again selected to go to his Majesty, who was then at Beverley; but disliking the employment, he declined it, and another gentleman was put in his place.
About the latter end of August, 1624, Sir Hugh was directed to go to Yorkshire and to call together his regiment for the purpose of defending Scarborough. How he conducted himself in that employment he does not state in his memoirs. He merely says, in the account which he has given elsewhere, “that he did not forsake the Parliament till they had failed in performing those things they had engaged to do, and which they had made the basis of the war--namely, the preservation of religion and the liberty of the subject.”
Lady Chomley was in London when her husband declared for the King. The Parliament being nettled that it had lost a person who had been so useful, took a mean and petty revenge upon him by plundering his wife of her coach-horses, and otherwise treating her rudely. However, she managed to procure a pass to rejoin Sir Hugh. After two days' sojourn at Whitby, Sir Hugh carried his wife to Scarborough, of which place he had been made governor by the King. There they lived “in a very handsome port and fashion;” but in such a way as not many in employment for either the King or the Parliament did the like. For he had neither pay nor allowance, but maintained the post of governor upon his own purse, not having the worth of a chicken out of the country which he did not pay for till the time came that they were besieged.
When the place was attacked in the month of February, 1644, Lady Chomley, who would not forsake her husband in his time of danger, desired him to send his two daughters into Holland. This he did, though not without great trouble, for he was very fond of them. The siege lasted above twelve months. On the surrender of the castle, Sir Hugh, being in a very indifferent state of health, took ship for Holland at Bridlington, leaving Lady Chomley with not above J in her purse, while he himself had barely enough to defray his passage. As soon as he arrived in Holland, he sent his two daughters back to their mother, and being thus left alone, fell into great sadness and trouble of mind. In a short time he went to Paris where he found a letter written to a merchant there by his son William, who was then on his return from Italy, in which letter he said that unless he had a speedy supply of money from his father he should be forced to turn soldier, and trail a pike in Catalonia for his subsistence. In the spring of 1645, he sent William, who not long before had joined his father in Paris, to England to look after his estates; and fortunate it was that he did so, for, with the help of his uncle Sir Henry, Mr. Chomley was able to get the manors of Whitby and some other lands out of sequestration. In May, 1647, Sir Hugh went to Rouen, where he was joined by his wife, his two sons, and his daughters. Thus the family which had not been together for five years' time, were once more reunited. At Rouen they remained for a year and a half; but the plague having made its appearance in the city, they took house at Gallion, sixteen miles distant, and the seat of the archbishop, and where they remained a short time. Their return to Rouen took place soon after the Parliament had beheaded King Charles, at which the French were so incensed, that the people were ready to stone Sir Hugh and his party at the landing of the river. “And truly,” adds Sir Hugh, but that we had formerly lived there and were known by many to be of the King's party, I verily think they would have done us some mischief.”
In February, 1648, Lady Chomley went to England, and in the June of the year following, Sir Hugh took ship at Calais and landed at Dover. Thence he went to London and from there to Whitby.
In the spring of 1651, many gentlemen were committed to prison on suspicion of favouring the cause of the King. Amongst them were Sir Roger Twisden and Sir Hugh Chomley, who for some time past had been residing with his brother-in-law at Peckham. One Saturday, early in the morning, they were suddenly carried off by a party of horse and conveyed to Leeds, where they were kept in prison for the space of six weeks.
In July, 1652, the whole family returned once more to their beloved Yorkshire home. The place had, it is true, been plundered of all that had made it pleasant and comfortable. Nevertheless, Lady Chomley, with her own housewifery, had made some bedding, had put it in a condition to receive themselves and a friend. Sir Hugh's intention was to live there as retiredly as possible; nevertheless, even then his family amounted to twenty persons in number.
In October, 1664, Lady Chomley and her husband went to London. They remained there till the following spring, when Sir Hugh having occasion to go to Yorkshire, and his wife not feeling very well, he left her at her sister's house at Chiswick. She remained there about a month, and then went to the lodgings which her cousin, Lady Katharine Moor, occupied in Bedford-street, Covent-garden. There, after having been ill for a week of fever, she died on the 17th of April, “making,” says Sir Hugh, “a most pious and Christian end.” The news of her sudden death reached her husband at Whitby, from which place he made haste to remove, not being able to endure the sight of the rooms and places where he had been accustomed to enjoy her society. “It is now a year and a half since she departed this life,” he says, “most of which time I have resided among her friends, whom I love very much, and where I shall, I think, for the most part continue, except the Lord change my condition, to whose protection and providence I commit the remainder of my days, the number and nature of which He only knoweth. I beseech they may be for His glory, and then I am pleased however he pleases to dispose of me.” Sir Hugh did not survive his wife more than two years. He died at East Peckham on the 30th of November, 1657, about six months after he had brought his autobiography to a conclusion. On a plain monument of alabaster in Peckham church, raised by Sir Hugh to the memory of Lady Chomley, it is stated that for the great love he bore the virtues and worth he found in his wife, he had declined being buried in his own county, among his ancestors, and had chosen to be laid beside her.
Sir Hugh has appended to his biography a “particular relation and description” of her, whose great virtues and perfections he stated in his preface he had been desirous to embalm to future ages.
Lady Chomley was, her husband tells us, of the middle stature of women, and well shaped; yet in that not so singular as in the beauty of her face--her features being very delicate, and yet proportionate to her body. Her eyes were black and full of loveliness and sweetness, her eyebrows small and even as if drawn with a pencil. She had a very small, pretty, well-shaped mouth, which sometimes, especially when in a muse or study, she would draw up into an incredible little compass. Her hair was a dark chestnut; her complexion brown but clear, with a fresh colour in her cheeks. In her looks there was loveliness inexpressible, and in her whole composition she was so beautiful a sweet creature at her marriage, as not many did parallel; few exceeded her in the nation. Yet the inward endowments and perfections of her mind did excel those of her body, for she was a most pious, virtuous person, of great integrity and discerning judgment in most things. Of a sweet kindly nature, she was compassionate beyond imagination, insomuch that there was nothing she took more interest in, nothing that was more agreeable to her disposition than
to be helpful to everybody's needs, of what quality or condition soever; being even more touched with others' wants than with her own. She was of a most noble, generous mind, and would not do an unjust or dishonourable act to gain the world; apt to remit trespasses, she did not retain revenge longer that her anger, which was over in a moment. She was of a timorous nature, though in great danger had a courage above her size. Thus, on the capitulation of Scarborough Castle, when the commanding officer threatened that in case one drop of his men's blood should be shed, he would not give quarter to man or woman, but would put all to the sword, Lady Chomley, conceiving her husband would the more resent these menaces on account of her being there, went to him, and without any trouble or dejection begged he would not, for any consideration towards her, do aught that might be prejudicial to his own honour or the affairs of the King. Notwithstanding all the hardships she had to undergo she would never be persuaded to leave her husband. Very great indeed some of these hardships were. On the castle being besieged she had been forced to lie in a little cabin on the ground several months together; neither did she escape a touch of the scurvy, which was then rife in the place, and from which she never entirely recovered. During the time of the siege she took a most extraordinary care of the sick, making such provision for them as the place would afford. After the surrender of the castle, she stipulated that the garrison in her husband's house at Whitby might be removed, so that she might have liberty to dwell there. But the captain, who was in possession, liked his quarters so well, that he would not stir until one of his servants had died there of the plague. Then he left in a fright; and before he could return Lady Chomley had ventured over the moors from Malton, in the middle of winter, in a dangerous season, the moors being then covered with snow, in order to reach her home; she being then in sad condition, for her husband and her two sons were over the seas, and her girls she dared not send for on account of the plague. She had only one maid and one man servant, who acted as cook. And as she was solitary so also was she miserably accommodated. For the house having been plundered, she had nothing but what she borrowed; while her bed was so hard, she would complain she could not get warm, nor was she able to lie on it. This she was accustomed to say was the saddest and worst time of her life. Yet her spirit would not submit to make complaint and application as she might have done to the Parliament assembled at York.
Some Passages From the History of the Chomley Family Page 3
