The first indication we find at Madeley of the troubled times which ushered in the most remarkable episode in the history of the 17th century is an entry in the church register, under date of April 14, 1645, informing us that on the above date one William Caroloso was buried, the church at the time being garrisoned by a Parliamentary regiment, commanded by Captain Harrington. A page of history was being written which in all future times would be read with interest; agencies, the growth of centuries, had been developed; struggles for political and polemical equality had disturbed the stagnation of ages. The injustice of the courts, the persecutions, pillorings, and beheadings of reformers and standard-bearers of truth, and the weakness and insincerity of monarchs, had culminated in revolution, and six years later the weak vacillating monarch, Charles II., after the battle of Worcester, where 3,000 of his army had been left upon the field, came a fugitive to Madeley. The story of his flight, his disguise, and of his lodging in “Wolfe’s bam,” is an episode in history that illustrates the vicissitudes of life, affords a startling lesson to royalty, and brings into relief the devotion and faithfulness of those in humble spheres to others when in misfortune. Having ridden in hot haste from Worcester, and fallen in with the Earls Buckingham, Derby, Wilmot, and others, “I strove,” he tells us, “as soon as it was dark, to get them to stand by me against the enemy, I could not get rid of them now I had a mind to it, having, afterwards slipt away from them by a by-road when it was dark.” The story of his retreat through Kidderminster, where Richard Baxter describes the balls flying all night, and the hurried northward flight under the trusty scout, Master Walker; then the second pause of terror on Kinver Heath; the stolen and breathless flight through Stourbridge; the short and poor refreshment at Kingswinford; and the long gallop to the White Ladies;—the whole flight being certainly forty miles—has been so often told as to be familiar to the reader. These and other incidents of the flight have been worked up in a drama, in five acts, by Mr. George Griffiths, of Bewdley. Scene 2 is laid at the White Ladies (nine miles from Wolverhampton and one from Brewood, now occupied by Mr. Wilson). “_Enter_ Col. Roscarrock, Richard Penderell, of Hobbal Grange, Edward Martin, a servant, and Bartholemew Martin, a boy in the house. “_Col. Roscarrock_ (to the boy Martin): Come hither, boy, canst thou do an errand, And speak to no one on the road to Boscobel? “_Boy_.—That I can, Sir, without reward or fee; Trust me, I will not say one word To any he or she, so tell me what’s my duty.