Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century

  CONSTANCE SHERWOOD.

  AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

  BY LADY GEORGIANA FULLERTON.

  CHAPTER I.

  I had not thought to write the story of my life; but the wishes ofthose who have at all times more right to command than occasion toentreat aught at my hands, have in a manner compelled me thereunto.The divers trials and the unlooked-for comforts which have come to mylot during the years that I have been tossed to and fro on this uneasysea--the world--have wrought in my soul an exceeding sense of thegoodness of God, and an insight into the meaning of the sentence inHoly Writ which saith, "His ways are not as our ways, nor his thoughtslike unto our thoughts." And this puts me in mind that there aresayings which are in every one's mouth, and therefore not to belightly gainsayed, which nevertheless do not approve themselves to myconscience as wholly just and true. Of these is the common adage,"That misfortunes come not alone." For my own part, I have found thatwhen a cross has been laid on me, it has mostly been a single one, andthat other sorrows were oftentimes removed, as if to make room for it.And it has been my wont, when one trial has been passing away, to lookout for the next, even as on a stormy day, when the clouds have rolledaway in one direction and sunshine is breaking overhead, we see othersrising in the distance. There has been no portion of my life free fromsome measure of grief or fear sufficient to recall the words that "Manis born to trouble as the sparks fly upward;" and none so reft ofconsolation that, in the midst of suffering, I did not yet cry out,"The Lord is my shepherd; his rod and his staff comfort me."

  I was born in the year 1557, in a very fair part of England, atSherwood Hall, in the county of Stafford. For its comely aspect,commodious chambers, sunny gardens, and the sweet walks in itsvicinity, it was as commendable a residence for persons of moderatefortune and contented minds as can well be thought of. Within andwithout this my paternal home nothing was wanting which might pleasethe eye, or minister to tranquillity of mind and healthfulrecreation. I reckon it amongst the many favors I have received from agracious Providence, that the earlier years of my life were spentamidst such fair scenes, and in the society of parents who ever tookoccasion from earthly things to lead my thoughts to such as areimperishable, and so to stir up in me a love of the Creator, who hasstamped his image on this visible world in characters of so greatbeauty; whilst in the tenderness of those dear parents unto myself Isaw, as it were, a type and representation of his paternal love andgoodness.

  My father was of an ancient family, and allied to such as were ofgreater note and more wealthy than his own. He had not, as is themanner with many squires of our days, left off residing on his ownestate in order to seek after the shows and diversions of London; buthad united to a great humility of mind and a singular affection forlearning a contentedness of spirit which inclined him to dwell in theplace assigned to him by Providence. He had married at an early age,and had ever conformed to the habits of his neighbors in all lawfuland kindly ways, and sought no other labors but such as wereincidental to the care of his estates, and no recreations but those ofstudy, joined to a moderate pursuit of field-sports and such socialdiversions as the neighborhood afforded. His outward appearance wasrather simple than showy, and his manners grave and composed. When Icall to mind the singular modesty of his disposition, and theretiredness of his manners, I often marvel how the force ofcircumstances and the urging of conscience should have forced one solittle by nature inclined to an unsettled mode of life into one which,albeit peaceful in its aims, proved so full of danger and disquiet.

  My mother's love I enjoyed but for a brief season. Not that it waxedcold toward me, as happens with some parents, who look with fondnesson the child and less tenderly on the maiden; but it pleased AlmightyGod to take her unto himself when I was but ten years of age. Her faceis as present to me now as any time of my life. No limner's hand everdrew a more faithful picture than the one I have of her even nowengraved on the tablet of my heart. She had so fair and delicate acomplexion that I can only liken it to the leaf of a white rose withthe lightest tinge of pink in it. Her hair was streaked with gray tooearly for her years; but this matched well with the sweet melancholyof her eyes, which were of a deep violet color. Her eyelids were atrifle thick, and so were her lips; but there was a pleasantness inher smile and the dimples about her mouth such as I have not noticedin any one else. She had a sweet womanly and loving heart, and thenoblest spirit imaginable; a great zeal in the service of God,tempered with so much sweetness and cordiality that she gave noteasily offence to any one, of howsoever different a way of thinkingfrom herself; and either won them over to her faith through thesuavity of her temper and the wisdom of her discourse, or else workedin them a personal liking which made them patient with her, albeitfierce with others. When I was about seven years of age I noticed thatshe waxed thin and pale, and that we seldom went abroad, and walkedonly in our own garden and orchard. She seemed glad to sit on a benchon the sunny side of the house even in summer, and on days when byreason of the heat I liked to lie down in the shade. My parentsforbade me from going into the village; and, through the perversenesscommon to too many young people, on account of that very prohibition Ilonged for liberty to do so, and wearied oftentimes of the solitude welived in. At a later period I learnt how kind had been their intent inkeeping me during the early years of childhood from a knowledge of thewoeful divisions which the late changes in religion had wrought in ourcountry; which I might easily have heard from young companions,and maybe in such sort as to awaken angry feelings, and shed a drop ofbitter in the crystal cup of childhood's pure faith. If we did walkabroad, it was to visit some sick persons, and carry them food orclothing or medicines, which my mother prepared with her own hands.But as she grew weaker, we went less often outside the gates, and thepoor came themselves to fetch away what in her bounty she stored upfor them. I did not notice that our neighbors looked unkindly on uswhen we were seen in the village. Children would cry out sometimes,but half in play, "Down with the Papists!" but I witnessed that theirelders checked them, especially those of the poorer sort; and "Godbless you, Mrs. Sherwood!" and "God save you, madam!" was often intheir mouths, as she whom I loved with so great and reverent anaffection passed alongside of them, or stopped to take breath, leaningagainst their cottage-palings.

  Many childish heartaches I can even now remember when I was notsuffered to join in the merry sports of the 1st of May; for then, asthe poet Chaucer sings, the youths and maidens go

  "To fetch the flowers fresh and branch and bloom, And these, rejoicing in their great delight, Eke each at other throw the blossoms bright."

  I watched the merry wights as they passed our door on their way to thegroves and meadows, singing mirthful carols, and bent on pleasantpastimes; and tears stood in my eyes as the sound of their voices diedaway in the distance. My father found me thus weeping one May-day, andcarried me with him to a sweet spot in a wood, where wild-flowers grewlike living jewels out of the green carpet of moss on which we sat;and there, as the birds sang from every bough, and the insects hoveredand hummed over every blossom, he entertained me with such quaint andpleasant tales, and moved me to merry laughter by his witty devices;so that I set down that day in my book of memory as one of thejoyfullest in all my childhood. At Easter, when the village childrenrolled pasch eggs down the smooth sides of the green hills, my motherwould paint me some herself, and adorned them with such bright colorsand rare sentences that I feared to break them with rude handling, andkept them by me throughout the year, rather as pictures to be gazed onthan toys to be played with in a wanton fashion.

  On the morning of the Re
surrection, when others went to the top ofCannock Chase to hail the rising sun, as is the custom of those parts,she would sing so sweetly the psalm which speaketh of the heavensrejoicing and of the earth being glad, that it grieved me not to stayat home; albeit I sometimes marvelled that we saw so little company,and mixed not more freely with our neighbors.

  When I had reached my ninth birthday, whether it was that I tookbetter heed of words spoken in my hearing, or else that my parentsthought it was time that I should learn somewhat of the conditions ofthe times, and so talked more freely in my presence, it so happenedthat I heard of the jeopardy in which many who held the Catholic faithwere, and of the laws which were being made to prohibit in our countrythe practice of the ancient religion. When Protestants came to ourhouse--and it was sometimes hard in those days to tell who were such atheart, or only in outward semblance out of conformity to the queen'spleasure--I