| As
Colonel Wyndham's wife, Anne, wrote later, the house was "the
Ark in which God shut him up when the floods of rebellion had covered
the face of his dominions."
On 6
October the king set out for Amesbury and the home of Mrs Hyde.
He was there for some days and it was not until 13 October that
he was refreshed enough to set out for the Sussex coast - sufficiently
far from the dangers of Dorset - where the faithful Wilmot was seeking
a vessel.
Following
an overnight stay at Hambledon in Hampshire Charles reached Brighton
(or Brightelmstone to give it its seventeenth century name). There,
a Colonel Gunter had arranged for a boat, with a merchant called
Francis Mansell, for a fee of sixty pieces of silver. The boat,
a brig, named Surprise under the command of Captain Nicholas Tattershall
(or Tettersel), was duly boarded near Shoreham and, on Wednesday,
15 October at about four o'clock in the morning, the king left England
in the company of the loyal Wilmot. Running before the wind, the
ship made good time and Charles was finally carried ashore at Fecamp
near Rouen.
Of those
who had helped him in the last stages of his adventure, Francis
Mansell was granted a pension and armorial bearings: Or three maunches
sable on a chief gules a lion of England gold, and for a crest Garter
Walker allowed a ship with one mast sable under a sail argent flying
the flag of St George at the masthead, bow and poop or charged on
the stern with three royal crowns proper - a very grand gesture
to a coal-brig with a crew of two. The captain, Tattershall, was
not to be neglected, and was honoured with arms argent a ship in
full sail on the sea in base proper on a chief azure a lion passant
guardant or.
It is
perhaps a little surprising that some of his other subjects who
had helped the king were not honoured, but his adventures had been
both hectic and hazardous, and maybe he simply forgot their names.
No doubt Gunter, Hyde, Wyndham and the others, a few of whose identities
are lost to history, reconciled themselves in the knowledge that,
for them, virtue was its own reward.
|