“MARY POWELL” [Sidenote:  Anonymous]

Journall

Forest Hill, May 1st, 1643.

Seventeenth Birthday.  A gypsie Woman at the Gate would fame have tolde my Fortune; but Mother chased her away, saying she had doubtless harboured in some of the low Houses in Oxford, and mighte bring us the Plague.  Coulde have cried for Vexation; she had promised to tell me the Colour of my Husband’s Eyes; but Mother says she believes I shall never have one, I am soe sillie. Father gave me a gold Piece.  Dear Mother is chafed, methinks, touching this Debt of five hundred Pounds, which Father says he knows not how to pay.  Indeed, he sayd, overnighte, his whole personal Estate amounts to but five hundred Pounds, his Timber and Wood to four hundred more, or thereabouts; and the Tithes and Messuages of Whateley are no great Matter, being mortgaged for about as much more, and he hath lent Sights of Money to them that won’t pay, so ’tis hard to be thus prest.  Poor Father! ’twas good of him to give me this gold Piece.

May 2nd.—­Cousin Rose married to Master Roger Agnew.  Present, Father, Mother, and Brother of Rose; Father, Mother, Dick, Bob, Harry, and I; Squire Paice and his Daughter Audrey; an olde Aunt of Master Roger’s, and one of his Cousins, a stiffe-backed Man with large Eares, and such a long Nose!  Cousin Rose looked bewtifulle—­pitie so faire a Girl should marry so olde a Man—­’tis thoughte he wants not manie Years of fifty.

May 7th.—­New misfortunes in the Poultrie Yarde.  Poor Mother’s Loyalty cannot stand the Demands for her best Chickens, Ducklings, &c, for the Use of his Majesty’s Officers since the King hath beene in Oxford.  She accuseth my Father of having beene wonne over by a few faire Speeches to be more of a Royalist than his natural Temper inclineth him to; which, of course, he will not admit.

May 8th.—­Whole Day taken up in a Visit to Rose, now a Week married, and growne quite matronlie already.  We reached Sheepscote about an Hour before Noone.  A long, broade, strait Walke of green Turf, planted with Holly-oaks, Sunflowers, &c, and some earlier flowers alreadie in Bloom, led up to the rusticall Porch of a truly farm-like House, with low gable Roofs, a long lattice Window on either Side the Doore, and three Casements above.  Such, and no more, is Rose’s House!  But she is happy, for she came running forthe, soe soone as she hearde Clover’s Feet, and helped me from my Saddle all smiling, tho’ she had not expected to see us.  We had Curds and Creams; and she wished it were the Time of Strawberries, for she sayd they had large Beds; and then my Father and the Boys went forthe to looke for Master Agnew.  Then Rose took me up to her Chamber, singing as she went; and the long, low Room was sweet with flowers.  Sayd I, “Rose, to be Mistress of this pretty Cottage, t’were hardlie amisse to marry a man as old as Master Roger.”  “Olde!” quoth she, “deare Moll, you must not deeme him olde; why, he is but forty-two; and am not I twenty-three?” She lookt soe earneste and hurte, that I coulde not but falle a laughing.