After Chillingworth's death, Cheynell had the corpse laid out in a coffin covered with a hearse-cloth. The friends of the deceased were entertained, according to their own desire, with wine and cakes. Those who bore his remains to the grave were Episcopalians; and--as a further touch of description to illustrate those times--it may be added that, according to the custom of the country, they had each a bunch of rosemary, a mourning ribband, and a pair of gloves. Different opinions were expressed as to where the churchman ought to be interred. It was at last decided in favour of Chichester, liberty being granted to "all the malignants" to attend the hearse. When they came to the grave, Cheynell, as he held in his hand what he called the "_mortal_ book" of the great Protestant advocate--the very book which has received the praises of all generations since as _immortal_--proceeded with strange infatuation to denounce it in terms of the most violent abuse, after which he flung the volume into the open grave.[478] [Sidenote: 1643.] Charles, whilst remaining at Oxford, had amongst the Episcopal clergy other staunch friends residing elsewhere. Of this number was John Barwick, a Fellow of St. John's, Cambridge,[479] who acted as chaplain to Bishop Morton during the civil wars, and who continued with him as long as he remained in Durham House. This he did, his biographer tells us, for the express purpose of being serviceable to the King; concealing himself there "as in a great wood," carrying on a private correspondence betwixt London and Oxford, conveying, on the one hand, to the loyalists his Majesty's orders and commands, and, on the other hand, to his royal master, what he could pick up of the "designs and endeavours of the rebels." Resolving to tell no lies, but rather "with silence to answer all captious and ensnaring questions," he yet clandestinely wrote and received letters in cypher, the key to which he carefully kept. The letters were slid in by stealth, amidst pedlar's wares, and carried to and fro, "as it were through a lattice, and enveloped in mist." He employed adventurous women to disperse everywhere, among friends and foes, books favourable to the Royal cause; such emissaries trudging on foot, receiving the books from bargemen on the Thames, and distributing them wherever they had opportunity. Letters were sometimes sewed in the covers of volumes, and secret marks were given to notify their insertion. When the Royal cause became desperate, and the King was shut up "as in a net within the walls of Oxford," he continued to write to Barwick to do what he could, especially by securing, through favour of the Parliamentary authorities, those individuals for his personal attendants, upon whose faithfulness his Majesty could depend. These notices, extracted from "Barwick's Life"--not, on the whole, a very trustworthy book, though accurate enough, no doubt, in reference to his contrivances and