Boscobel / Or, The History of his Sacred Majesties most Miraculous Preservation After the Battle of Worcester, 3. Sept. 1651
BOSCOBEL
The book which is here republished contains an account of the sufferings of Charles the Second, after the battle of Worcester, until his escape to the continent; – written by a co-temporary, and dedicated to that monarch whose misfortunes he records; we may therefore naturally infer, that the book is a true relation of the same.1
As this work has become so scarce that a copy can with difficulty be procured, the editor thought he should do a service to the curious by having it reprinted verbatim2 from the edition of 1660.
The subject of this tract is interesting: it teaches us the instability of human greatness. We are presented with a picture of the sufferings of one, by lineal descent born to be the governor of a kingdom, reduced to the alternative of either suffering on a scaffold, or quitting the kingdom in habits of disguise.
When princes forget their subjects, or they their king, then both lose their former allegiance and respect, they become mutual enemies, and their inveteracy does not diminish until one or both are on the precipice of destruction.
When Charles the First ascended the throne, his subjects were tenacious of that religious freedom which they had procured under the reign of a sovereign, whose name will ever be revered by innovators in theoretical principles of religion. They had shaken off their subjugation to the Roman Pontiff, and when he shewed signs of partiality to that persuasion, they dreaded the consequences. They had not yet forgot the atrocities committed in the reign of Mary; and were fearful, that if their liberties were abridged, the same enormities would ensue. They struggled for liberty, and he for power: both felt the lash of civil commotions.
When men are enthusiastically partial to an opinion, they are so zealous in its cause they will die in its support. How many people have suffered on this account, in all classes of religious opinions, in different nations? Such was the case at that period. A rage for polemical divinity took place, and brother against brother fought in support of each other's tenets; each fully assured he was in the right. The same spirit of innovation is too prevalent in the present day: the principles they profess are at variance with the prosperity and happiness of the country. They have made their way into our possessions in the East Indies; and by their influence have brought on disaffection among the native troops. From the organization of their native laws, they are particularly tenacious of their theological principles; according to which a man had better die than be a sceptic; for on embracing any other faith, he must first lose his cast;3 and in that case he is deserted by all his relatives and countrymen, and driven from the society of all he holds most dear on earth, so that his life becomes insupportable.
In the present state of civil commotions in the European countries, caused by the ambitious views of Napoleon, it is exceedingly impolitic. It is well known that he wishes to add India to his possessions, and in the present disaffected state, nothing is more favourable to his designs; as they would immediately flock to a leader, who would hold out universal tolerance of religion; which has always been his maxim where he has extended his arms. Thus, through the enthusiastic zeal of a few, we may ultimately lose one of our finest possessions.
These people have universally promulgated such doctrines, that they affect the organization of the brain; and have been the ruin of many a happy family, by turning those who unfortunately had weak intellects mad. And, such progress have their tenets made, that we may infer, the period is not far distant when we shall see the orthodox church completely deserted by the middling and lower orders of people.
"For modes of faith, let graceless zealots fight;
"His can't be wrong, whose life is in the right."
Sir,
Among the many addresses, which every day offers your sacred Majesty, this humbly hopes your particular gracious acceptance; since it has no other ambition, then faithfully to represent to your Majesty, and, by your royal permission, to all the world, the history of those miraculous providences that preserv'd you in the battle of Worcester, conceal'd you in the wilderness at Boscobel, and led you on your way towards a land, where you might safely expect the returning favours of Heaven; which now, after so long a tryal, have graciously heard our prayers, and abundantly crown'd your patience.
And, as in the conduct of a great part of this greatest affair, it pleased God (the more to endear his mercies) to make choice of many very little, though fit instruments: So has my weakness, by this happy president, been encourag'd, to hope it not unsuitable for me to relate, what the wisest King thought proper for them to act; wherein yet I humbly beg your Majesties pardon, being conscious to my self of my utter incapacity to expresse, either your unparallel'd valour in the day of contending, or (which is a vertue far less usual for Kings) your strong and even mind in the time of your sufferings.
From which sublime endowments of your most Heroick Majesty I derive these comforts to my self, That whoever undertakes to reach at your perfections, must fall short as well as I, though not so much: And while I depend on your royal clemency more then others, I am more obliged to be
Behold, I present you with an History of Wonders; wonders so rare and great, that, as no former age can parallel, succeeding times will scarce believe them.
Expect here to read the highest tyranny and rebellion that was ever acted by subjects, and the greatest hardships and persecutions that ever were suffer'd by a King; yet did his patience exceed his sorrows, and his vertue at last became victorious.
Some particulars, I confess, are so superlatively extraordinary, that I easily should fear, they would scarce gain belief, even from my modern reader, had I not this strong argument to secure me, That no ingenuous person will think me so frontless, as knowingly to write an untruth in an history, where His Sacred Majesty (my dread Soveraign and the best of Kings) bears the principal part, and all the other persons concern'd in the same action (except the Earl of Darby and Lord Wilmot) still alive, ready to poure out shame and confusion on so impudent a forgery.
But I am so far from that foul crime of publishing what's false, that I can safely say, I know not one line unauthentick; such has been my care to be sure of the truth, that I have diligently collected the particulars from most of their mouths, who were the very actors themselves in this scene of miracles.
To every individual person (as far as my industry could arrive to know) I have given the due of his merit, be it for valour, fidelity, or whatever other quality, that any way had the honour to relate to his Majesties service.
And though the whole complex may want elegance and politeness of style (which the nature of such relations does not properly challenge) yet it cannot want truth, the chief ingredient for such undertakings. In which assurance I am not afraid to venture myself in your hands.
It was in June in the year 1650. That Charles the Second, undoubted heir of Charles the First, of glorious memory, King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, (after his Royal father had been barbarously murdered, and himself banished his own dominions, by his own rebellious subjects) took shipping at Scheevling in Holland, and, having escap'd great dangers at sea, arrived soon after at Spey in the North of Scotland.
On the first of January following, his Majesty was crown'd at Scoon, and an army raised in that kingdome, to invade this; in hope to recover his regalities here, then most unjustly detain'd from him, by some members of the Long Parliament, and Oliver Cromwell their general; who