life. Edward Hyde,
Lord Clarendon, his Lord High Chancellor, Dr. George Bate, his learned
physician, and Samuel Pepys, Esquire, sometime Surveyor-General to the
Victualling Office, have preserved the records of that time of peril,
as told by his majesty. True, their various stories differ in minor
details, but they agree in principal facts. The king had not ridden
many miles from Worcester when he found himself surrounded by about four
thousand of his army, including the Scots under the command of Leslie.
Though they would not fight for him, they were ready enough to fly with
him. At first he thought of betaking himself to Scotland; but having
had sad proof of the untrustworthy character of those with whom he
travelled, he feared they would further betray him if pursued by the
enemy. He therefore resolved to reach London before the news of his
defeat arrived thither, and make his escape from thence; but this
scheme presented many difficulties. Amongst the persons of quality who
accompanied him were my Lord Duke of Buckingham, the Earls of Derby and
Lauderdale, and the Lords Wilmot and Talbot. During their journey it
fell from my Lord Derby's lips, that when he had been defeated at Wigan,
one Pendrell, an honest labourer and a Papist, had sheltered him in
Boscobel House, not far distant from where they then rode. Hearing
this, the king resolved to trust this same faithful fellow, and for
the present seek such refuge as Pendrell could afford. It was not easy,
however, for his majesty to escape the Scots; but when night came, he
and his gentlemen slipped away from the high road, which the others
continued to pursue, and made for Boscobel Wood, led by Charles Giffard,
a loyal gentleman and true. The house they sought was situated between
Tong Castle and Brewood, in a woody place most fitting for retreat;
it was, moreover, six and twenty miles from Worcester, and stood in
Shropshire, on the borders of Staffordshire.

In order to gain this haven of rest, it was necessary for them to pass
through Stourbridge, where a troop of the Republican army lay quartered.
Midnight had fallen ere they reached the town, which was now wrapt in
darkness, and was, moreover, perfectly still. The king and his friends,
dismounting, led their horses through the echoing streets as softly as
possible, being filled the while with dire apprehensions. Safely leaving
it, they rode into the wood until they came to the old convent of
Whiteladies, once th