Summary

Ann Fanshawe Memoirs of Lady Fanshawe

It was the old "hoyting girl" spirit still alive in her which prompted her to borrow the cabin boy's blue thrum-cap and tarred coat for half a crown to stand beside her husband on the deck when they were threatened by a Turkish galley on their way to Spain. But it was the true womanly spirit, tender, loving, devoted, which, after the Battle of Worcester, where Sir Richard was made a prisoner, took her every morning on foot when four boomed from the steeples, along the sleeping Strand to stand beneath his prison window on the bowling-green at Whitehall.
Source: Gutenberg

Ann Fanshawe Memoirs of Lady Fanshawe

With as ill mien and tone as I could express, I told a fellow I found in the Office that I desired a pass for Paris, to go to my husband. 'Woman, what is your husband, and your name?' 'Sir,' said I, with many courtesies, 'he is a young merchant, and my name is Ann Harrison.' 'Well,' said he, 'it will cost you a crown:'—said I, 'That is a great sum for me, but pray put in a man, my maid, and three children.' All which he immediately did, telling me a malignant would give him five pounds for such a pass.
Source: Gutenberg

Ann Fanshawe Memoirs of Lady Fanshawe

My niece, Fanshawe, then lay in the Strand, where I stood to see the King's entry with his brothers; surely the most pompous show that ever was, for the hearts of all men in this kingdom moved at his will.
The next day I went with other ladies of the family to congratulate his Majesty's happy arrival, who received me with great grace, and promised me future favours to my husband and self. His Majesty gave my husband his picture, set with small diamonds, when he was a child: it is a great rarity, because there never was but one. We took a house in Portugal Row, Lincoln's-inn Fields.
Source: Gutenberg

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