The October, as I told you, my husband and I went into France, by the
way of Portsmouth, where, walking by the sea side about a mile from
our lodgings, two ships of the Dutch, then in war with England, shot
bullets at us so near that we heard them whiz by us; at which I called
to my husband to make haste back, and began to run, but he altered not
his pace, saying, 'If we must be killed, it were as good to be killed
walking as running.' But, escaping, we embarked the next day; and that
journey fetched home our girl we had left in Jersey; and my husband
was forced to come out of France to Hamerton, in Huntingdonshire, to
my sister Bedell's, to the wedding of his nephew, the last Lord Thomas
Fanshawe, who then married the daughter of Ferrers: as I have said
before, she was a very great fortune, and a most excellent woman, and
brought up some time after her mother's death with my sister Bedell.
About two months after this, in June, I was delivered of a son on the
8th day, 1648. The latter end of July I went to London, leaving my
little boy Richard at nurse with his brother at Hartingfordbury. It
happened to be the very day after that the Lord Holland was taken
prisoner at St. Neot, and Lord Francis Villiers was killed; and as we
passed through the town, we saw Colonel Montague, afterwards Earl of
Sandwich, spoiling the town for the Parliament and himself.
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