, a. oo k... 
 
 THE LADY ROBERGIA. 
 
ROBERGIA 
 
 a ^>torp of 
 
 BY 
 
 RICHARD Y. COOK 
 
 Printed for Private Distribution 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 M C M V 
 
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 MAR 25 iWb 
 
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 copy a. 
 
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 COPYRIGHT, 1905 
 RICHARD Y. COOK 
 
 PRESS OF 
 
 dward Stern & Co., Inc. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
Contents. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Preface . . ' v 
 
 Borden Castle — Part I 1 
 
 In the New World— Part II 22 
 
 The Message— Part III 30 
 
 Addenda— Borden Pedigree, 1370-1904 91 
 
 Descriptive Notes 
 
Illustrations. 
 
 The Lady Robergia Frontispiece 
 
 Page. 
 
 The Old Oak, Headcorn 1 
 
 Church of St. Peter and St. Paul, Borden 19 
 
 Headcorn, Kent— The Main Street 22 
 
 Headcorn, Kent — From the Churchyard 26 
 
 Church of St. Peter and St. Paul, Headcorn .... 30 
 
 The Nave and Chancel 35 
 
 The Lady Chapel 41 
 
 The Ancient Font 47 
 
 Reproductions from Church Register 51 
 
 Home of William Borden 67 
 
 Memorial Brass — Tomb of William Borden .... 73 
 
 Home of Margaret Reader 85 
 

 mm sm. 
 
 < M')(|»PJ ljr|||rtnu»-i| 
 II ' t ' — ra r I 
 
 BORDEN MEMORIAL WINDOW, CHURCH OF 
 ST. PETER AND ST. PAUL, HEADCORN, KENT. 
 
Robergia 
 
PREFACE 
 
 he story of "Robergia" was writ- 
 ten in the summer of 1901, and 
 occupied the leisure moments of 
 a two weeks' sojourn at Bayreuth, where 
 Mrs. Cook and myself were attending the 
 production of the Wagner operas. Origin- 
 ally intended for the amusement of my 
 grandchildren, the narrative has been 
 thought by those interested to be worthy of 
 preservation, and has, therefore, been put 
 in type, the edition printed being limited to 
 fifty copies. 
 
 The reasonable interest which all Ameri- 
 cans of English ancestry take in the mother 
 country, and in those of her people of the 
 olden times who were their ancestors, years 
 ago moved me to undertake investigations 
 a ong various lines of family history. One 
 of the results of these inquiries has been to 
 
 [ix] 
 
PREFACE 
 
 find that Richard Borden, the first of the 
 name in America, was, in England, a neigh- 
 bor and friend of Captain Thomas Cooke, 
 also the first of the name in America. They 
 therefore naturally associated themselves in 
 the New World in founding the town of 
 Portsmouth, Rhode Island (1643). Their 
 families also intermarried, and while my 
 wife (born Lavinia Borden) can trace her 
 descent through fifteen generations of the 
 male line back to Henry Borden (1370) of 
 Hedcorn, Kent, England, yet the interest 
 thus created has, in my case, been still fur- 
 ther enhanced by a knowledge of the friend- 
 ships of those who lived so long ago. 
 
 The certainty with which the descent of 
 Richard Borden has been carried back to 
 Henry Borden of Hedcorn, and Robergia, 
 his wife, admits of no question, and the con- 
 nection of Henry Borden (1370) and of 
 his descendants down to William Borden 
 (1531) with the town of Borden, in Kent, 
 through inheritance of landed estates there, 
 goes far to attest the correctness of the family 
 
 [x] 
 
PREFACE 
 
 tradition that the first Borden (then Bour- 
 don) came to England from Normandy in 
 the eleventh century, and that Sir Simon de 
 Bourdon built the parish church at Borden 
 at the close of the twelfth century. 
 
 So much has seemed necessary in expla- 
 nation of the little sketch which follows. In 
 preparing it for publication I have had 
 valuable assistance from Thomas Witherden 
 Burden, Esq., and from his son, Sydney 
 Burden, Esq., descendants of Henry Bor- 
 den, of the fourteenth century, and both 
 now resident at Headcorn, Kent, England. 
 I am indebted to them for photographic 
 reproductions of buildings and documents, 
 and, in addition, Mr. Burden, Senior, has 
 furnished the descriptive notes which 
 accompany the various views, and has also 
 been at great pains to verify the accuracy 
 of the allusions to localities and authorities 
 which are so frequent in the wills and papers 
 quoted in the ''Addenda." This " Ad- 
 denda" has been included as a natural and 
 desirable addition to a work which, however 
 
 [xi] 
 
PREFACE 
 
 unpretentious from a literary standpoint, 
 must be of great interest to all who can trace 
 their descent back to those of the olden 
 times, of whom it treats. 
 
 Richard Y. Cook. 
 
 "Wynnemere," Lansdowne, Pa., 
 September 25, 1904. 
 
 [xii] 
 
ROBERGIA 
 
 |t was many, many years ago, so 
 many, indeed, that I hesitate to 
 begin my story lest you may 
 doubt I know whereof I shall write, that 
 a little girl lived in a grim old castle in 
 the South of England, in what was known 
 as the weald of Kent. Her name you 
 could never have guessed had I not 
 written it as the title of the story, of which 
 little Robergia — maid, woman and wife — is 
 the heroine. It was the month of March, 
 in the year of our Lord 1194. The spring 
 promised to be an early one, and the warm 
 south wind from the Atlantic had already 
 made the grass of greener hue, while swell- 
 ing buds everywhere gave promise of the 
 harvest of emerald leaves that would soon 
 clothe the great forest surrounding the old 
 castle, which stood like a sentinel on the 
 
 [1] 
 
ROBERGIA 
 
 top of a hill from which the country was 
 visible for miles. It was surrounded by a 
 moat, or ditch, in which water was always 
 kept; for those were troublous times, and 
 a draw-bridge, which spanned the moat at 
 the only entrance, was drawn up at night 
 when the great gates were closed and the 
 watch posted. A high wall of stone sur- 
 rounded the courtyard. On the top of the 
 wall was a broad platform running entirely 
 around it. This platform was protected by 
 another wall, or rampart, about six feet 
 high, in which narrow openings were left so 
 that the archers, or bowmen, could shoot 
 arrows at any one outside, but be protected 
 themselves from an enemy's missiles. 
 There were no firearms in those days, as 
 gunpowder was not known in Europe, and 
 the soldiers had long bows for weapons, 
 while the knights, who rode on horseback, 
 fought with lances and swords and battle- 
 axes. The bodies of the knights were 
 covered with armor of steel, although the 
 common soldiers had to content themselves 
 
 [2] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 with helmets of iron and stiff coats of 
 leather. The arrows of the "long bow- 
 men," as they were called, often penetrated 
 the knights' armor, however, and the Eng- 
 lish bowman was the terror of Europe. 
 
 There were not many soldiers in the castle 
 in which our little girl lived. Four years 
 before almost all of the retainers of her 
 father, who was named Sir Simon de Bour- 
 don, had accompanied him to the wars. 
 More than one hundred years before, Sir 
 Simon's grandfather had come from the 
 sunny land of France with the great William 
 of Normandy, and in a bloody battle fought 
 close by where the old castle now stood, 
 had helped to win Count William the crown 
 of England. In return the grateful King 
 had given him many thousands of acres of 
 the conquered lands and the old Saxon 
 castle that stood in their midst. It was in 
 this castle, much improved and strength- 
 ened by the three generations of de Bour- 
 dons who were her ancestors, that the little 
 Robergia de Bourdon lived. Her father 
 
 L3] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 had been four years away from home and 
 in all that time only twice had she news of 
 him. Once a soldier, returning from the 
 wars, had stopped over night on his way to 
 Hedcorn, a village some fifteen miles away, 
 where his people lived, and had told how, 
 after much suffering, the English army and 
 their leader, King Richard the lion-hearted, 
 had reached Palestine, where they had gone, 
 together with the army of King Philip of 
 France, to rescue the tomb of Christ from 
 the infidel Turk, and had fought a great 
 battle. 
 
 Robergia's old nurse — Ursula by name 
 — had brought this soldier up stairs from 
 the buttery — as the kitchen was then called 
 — and the little girl listened with glistening 
 eyes as the soldier told how the great 
 Richard had fought ever in the van of the 
 battle, and that her father had been with 
 him, and then she wept as he described how 
 the King had been stricken down by a 
 poisoned arrow so that his life had been 
 despaired of ; but when the soldier told how 
 
 [4] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 Richard's Queen Berengaria had herself 
 sucked the poison out of the wound so that 
 the King got well again, Robergia got up 
 from off her chair and raising her hands to 
 heaven, asked God to bless the Queen and 
 to bring her father and her King back safely 
 again — and to give her strength, as He had 
 given Queen Berengaria, the strength to 
 always do her duty. 
 
 The second visitor was one of the wan- 
 dering minstrels, common in those days to 
 all of Europe, and welcomed everywhere, 
 not only for the music they made, but be- 
 cause of the legends they sang, and the 
 news they brought. This minstrel was an 
 old, old man who had seen much and heard 
 more. The little girl listened with pleasure 
 to his songs of love and war and chivalrous 
 adventure, and sad she was to have him 
 leave; but after a week's stay he departed, 
 despite the efforts made to have him remain. 
 When he left he went north towards Lon- 
 don, but before he departed he gave to the 
 steward his real message, which was that 
 
 [5] 
 
R O B E R G I A 
 
 King Richard and Sir Simon were impris- 
 oned in the heart of Germany through the 
 perfidy of the German Emperor, instigated 
 thereto by King John, Richard's brother^ 
 and that he had been sent to England to 
 warn King Richard's friends. 
 
 Now Robergia was not by any means an 
 ordinary little girl. At the time of which 
 I write she was twelve years old, and her 
 birthday, which came on the 13th of March, 
 would soon arrive. Her mother had been 
 dead for more than a year. Unlike her 
 father, who was Norman-French, her mother 
 was a Saxon, and of the race which gov- 
 erned England before Count William of 
 Normandy landed on her shores and won 
 a kingdom at the battle of Hastings. All 
 the lands over which little Robergia looked 
 out as she stood at the windows of the 
 tower-room into which her bed-chamber 
 opened, had once belonged to her mother's 
 people. The new King of England had 
 given them by right of conquest to the de 
 Bourdon who had left his home in Nor- 
 
 [6] 
 
R O B E R G I A 
 
 mandy and followed him to the wars. But 
 the conquered people were a great people 
 also. A hundred years of conquest had 
 not broken their spirit, and Sir Simon de 
 Bourdon in the year 1180, and at Christmas, 
 had married the heiress of the old Saxon 
 owner of his castle and his lands, and now 
 in little Robergia de Bourdon were united 
 both the claims of right and of conquest to 
 the broad acres of which one day she was 
 to be the mistress, for her mother was dead 
 and she was an only child. This mother 
 she had dearly loved, and who doubts that 
 this mother also loved her little girl? 
 
 The Saxons were a different race from 
 the Normans. Their virtues were domestic. 
 The Norman rode over the land — the Saxon 
 tilled it. The Norman aspired to control 
 and to govern — the Saxon loved his home 
 and sought its ownership for himself, and 
 respected the same ownership as his neigh- 
 bor's right. The Norman was extravagant, 
 and at times unjust — the Saxon was frugal 
 and, although uncultivated, righteous at 
 
 [7] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 heart The Norman was chivalrous, but 
 impracticable — the Saxon was plain in his 
 manners, but exact in fulfilment of his 
 promises. It was these two races that were 
 united in the little girl whose lot it was to 
 live so long ago and with such strange 
 companionship, for since her dear mother 
 had died she had but two companions be- 
 sides her tutor, and these were Ursula, her 
 old Saxon nurse, and Bruno, the staghound 
 that each night slept on a mat at her cham- 
 ber door, and would have died rather than 
 let harm come to his mistress. Nor was 
 Robergia so small. She was tall for her 
 years, and carried her head high, as had 
 been the wont of all her father's line, for 
 pride, with them, both went before and 
 followed after, and they had been used to 
 command first and give their reasons after- 
 wards. All of this had led to quarrels 
 innumerable, both at home and abroad, and 
 the de Bourdons had need of a firm seat 
 in the saddle and much skill at arms to 
 have survived all the contests into which 
 
 [8] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 haughtiness of manner and arrogance of 
 language had brought them. Sir Simon, 
 however, had much of wisdom in his com- 
 position, and when he united the old and 
 the new owners of his estate by marriage 
 with the Saxon lady who had given him our 
 little Robergia, it was after much reflection 
 and with special sanction of the King, who 
 himself courted the favor of the growing 
 power of the Saxon holders of the land 
 which was fast drifting back into the owner- 
 ship of that part of the population which 
 alone exercised thrift and self-control. 
 
 Robergia, who also bore her mother's 
 name, was, like her, just and merciful. Of 
 course so young a girl made many mistakes, 
 but none of them came from her heart. It 
 was the grand air and flashing eye and im- 
 petuous language of her Norman ancestors 
 which burst forth that very day as she 
 reproved the steward for punishing an old 
 swineherd whose flock had wandered into 
 the countless acres of the estate after the 
 acorns which lay rotting under the great 
 
 [9] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 oaks of its forests, but it was the gentleness 
 of the Saxon mother which prompted her 
 to raise the poor old man and send him to 
 his hut again on her own palfrey and with 
 one of her own attendants. And so it was 
 that she was beloved by every one, whether 
 Saxon or Norman — whether in the castle, 
 or at the humble firesides of the peasants, 
 whose huts were scattered through the 
 forest, and whose labor paid for the little 
 plots they tilled and the firewood they 
 burned. 
 
 As I have already written, it was in March 
 of the year 1194 and in a few days the 
 twelfth anniversary of Robergia's birthday 
 would arrive. As she talked and planned 
 with old Ursula, how she longed for her 
 father and wondered whether the wandering 
 minstrel's story was true, and whether King 
 Richard and her father might reach the 
 English land again. On the night before 
 the 13th a great storm arose, driving in from 
 off the ocean and covering all the land with 
 fog. A drenching rain fell from inky clouds 
 
 [10] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 and the wind rattled at the casements and 
 moaned around the tower in which Rober- 
 gia's chamber was. This night she could 
 not sleep, and calling Ursula she had her 
 lamp lighted and getting out of bed sat 
 listening to the storm. 
 
 It was about midnight, and the gale was 
 at its worst, when Bruno, who had been 
 allowed to come into the room, suddenly 
 got on his feet and gave a menacing growl. 
 Just then the challenge of the sentinel on 
 the wall at the main gate was heard. The 
 little girl and her nurse both started up in 
 alarm. It was seldom, indeed, that stran- 
 gers came to the castle even by daylight; 
 but, owing to the troubled state of the 
 country, no one ever traveled after dark, 
 unless it might be the King's messengers 
 (for John, Richard's brother, had given out 
 that the King was dead, and had taken 
 steps to usurp the throne which he had 
 been left to guard while his brother was 
 at the wars). Quick and sharp was the 
 challenge of the sentinel, and quick and 
 
 [11] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 sharp the reply. Almost before it was 
 heard in the tower-room, which overlooked 
 the postern, the dog's growl had changed 
 to a glad bark, and it was her father's voice 
 which answered the sentinel with "a Bour- 
 don, a Bourdon; open the gate." 
 
 Some further parley there was before the 
 old steward ordered the guard to raise 
 the portcullis and drop the bridge to ad- 
 mit the strangers ; for with Sir Simon there 
 was another knight, a man of great stature 
 and haughty bearing, who wore the visor 
 of his helmet down. And so it was that 
 on the 13th of March, 1194, Robergia de 
 Bourdon celebrated her twelfth birthday, 
 and had with her as her guests her long 
 absent father and the great Richard, King 
 of England. 
 
 Shipwrecked on his return from Pales- 
 tine, where he had made a three years' 
 truce with the Sultan Saladin, Richard had 
 been perfidiously held by Duke Leopold 
 VI of Austria, who imprisoned him in the 
 fortress of Darnstein, and held him for a 
 
 [12] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 ransom. The Emperor Henry VI of 
 Germany paid the ransom asked (50,000 
 marks), but instigated thereto by Richard's 
 treacherous brother, the Emperor re-im- 
 prisoned Richard in the Castle of Trifels 
 until a larger ransom was paid. In Febru- 
 ary, 1194, after nearly eighteen months of 
 confinement, Richard negotiated his release 
 with the Emperor Henry, paying 100,000 
 marks down, and promising to pay 50,000 
 marks more after he reached England. It 
 took another month before the royal wan- 
 derer and his faithful vassal, Robergia's 
 father, found themselves on the coast of 
 Normandy, whence they took ship, and on 
 the 11th day of March landed safely on the 
 south coast of England. Avoiding the 
 parties sent out to watch the shore, and 
 traveling only by night and through the 
 forests by paths well known to Sir Simon, 
 the King had come to his vassal's castle, 
 and it was a right royal welcome that was 
 given him. Messengers were sent out so 
 soon as daylight came to summon those 
 
 [13] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 who could be trusted, and Robergia's birth- 
 day was spent in the service of her King. 
 None the less happy was she ; for did she 
 not have her father, and was not her guest 
 the hero of all the tales of her childhood, 
 as indeed he was the foremost of Europe's 
 chivalry ? 
 
 But I must not make my story too long. 
 King Richard was re-crowned at Winches- 
 ter on April 17, 1194, and, with all his 
 faults, he was the foremost figure of his 
 time, and a great Plantagenet, for so were 
 his line and house called. At this cere- 
 mony both Robergia and her father were 
 present, for so the King would have it. As 
 Robergia stood in the great cathedral, her 
 thoughts were such as few girls of her age 
 have had before or since. Shut up as she 
 had been in an old castle, and seeing little 
 of the world, her life had been entirely 
 spent among those older than herself, and 
 for amusements she had only her studies 
 and the few old manuscripts which were 
 her confessor's, or had belonged to her 
 
 [14] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 mother. Among these was one from the 
 works which a Saxon King (the great Al- 
 fred) had caused to be compiled, and in the 
 translation of which it was said he had him- 
 self at times engaged. It was this book, 
 accompanied by the wise teachings of her 
 confessor, who was also her tutor, and 
 about whom I shall soon tell you, that 
 largely formed her character. 
 
 It may seem strange to you that so 
 young a girl should be interested in a book 
 by so old a title as the "Consolations of 
 Philosophy ; " but you must remember how 
 peculiar were the conditions under which 
 Robergia lived, and, more than that, you 
 must also recall that King Alfred, with 
 whom she connected the book, was the idol 
 of the English people, and the greatest 
 King that England has ever had. And so 
 it was that when Bishop de Lucy, the Dio- 
 cesan of Winchester, placed the crown on 
 King Richard's head, Robergia saw more 
 than the ceremony before her eyes, and 
 recalled the Saxon King as w r ell, whose 
 
 [15] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 capital city Winchester had been, and who, 
 more than two hundred years before, had 
 given to her mother's people the lands 
 which some day would be hers. Before 
 going back to the castle, Robergia asked 
 to be shown the place where King Alfred 
 had been buried, and under the east win- 
 dow in the "new monastery" which he 
 had founded, she saw the tomb of the great 
 Saxon King. 
 
 Returning to the castle she took up the 
 routine of daily life. Her father made 
 much of her, but it was soon apparent that 
 he was not to be long with his little girl. 
 The hardships of the campaigns in Pales- 
 tine and the journey home had broken his 
 health. The next year he died, and our 
 little girl was left alone, save for the faith- 
 ful Ursula and her tutor. When her 
 mother came to live at the castle she had 
 asked of her husband that she might have 
 as the priest of the chapel in the castle her 
 own Saxon confessor, and not a Norman 
 monk, and to this Sir Simon had agreed. 
 
 [16] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 This priest was named Athelstan, and he 
 was a good man. In that day priests were not 
 always what they should be ; but Athelstan 
 remembered what the Lord and Master 
 taught, and, putting aside appetite for 
 worldly honors and ambitions, strove only 
 to do his Lord's bidding. When the 
 mother died she charged her confessor that 
 he should always care for her dear little 
 daughter, and thus it was that Robergia, 
 although without father and mother, had 
 indeed two devoted friends. 
 
 When her father's will was read there 
 was in it a clause which was not then un- 
 usual, but which would now seem strange. 
 Sir Simon left everything he had to his 
 daughter, provided she should marry her 
 cousin, Francis de Bourdon, that the lands 
 might not go out of the name ; otherwise 
 all his broad acres were to belong to his next 
 of kin, who was Francis de Bourdon, who 
 lived in Normandy, and who was the second 
 son of his cousin, and was therefore Ro- 
 bergia's second cousin. Besides his castle 
 
 [17] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 and lands, Sir Simon left much money and 
 plate, and altogether Robergia was a very 
 rich little girl, indeed, and when, in the 
 year 1200 and at Christmas, she married 
 her cousin, Francis de Bourdon, of Bayeux, 
 all of Kent came to the wedding, and no 
 one had ever seen a grander ceremony nor 
 a handsomer couple. 
 
 As I have already said, Robergia was 
 wise even beyond her years and thoughtful. 
 When her mother died she was buried in 
 the vault of the family chapel within the 
 castle walls, and her father was laid beside 
 his wife when death took him also. As 
 the years had passed since the de Bourdons 
 had been lords of the land, the population 
 had increased very much. Many spots in 
 the forest had been cleared, and at one 
 place, not more than a mile from the castle 
 gate, a village had sprung up, and many 
 houses had been built. It was here, after 
 much consultation with Athelstan, that Ro- 
 bergia decided to build a church that should 
 be a memorial to her father and her mother. 
 
 [18] 
 
R O B E R G I A 
 
 This building was begun in the year 1199, 
 and the tower and transepts were com- 
 pleted in the year 1204. After that the 
 work was more slowly done, and it was not 
 until the year 1210 that everything was 
 finished, and the parish church of Bourdon 
 was consecrated. 
 
 Now, our little girl, grown to be a stately 
 woman and the mother of two beautiful 
 boys (one named Simon and the other called 
 after her hero-king — Richard), was pecu- 
 liar in many things. She was above all 
 things thankful for her mother's line and 
 example, and after that she gave proper 
 value to the pride and care which had 
 separated her father's line from the faults 
 and lack of forethought which were common 
 to the great mass of the people in the days 
 in which he lived. And above all she was 
 just and merciful. So it was that on the 
 day on which the church at Bourdon was 
 consecrated she had her confessor prepare 
 a sheet of parchment, and on it was written 
 in the curious monkish Latin mixture of 
 
 [19] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 the written language of the times, the fol- 
 lowing, which I translate so that it may be 
 understood : 
 
 " Be just — for the Lord has only loaned 
 us that which we have, whether of goods 
 or of talents, and in their use we must con- 
 sider the rights of all men. 
 
 " Be merciful — for we shall have no 
 greater claim to the mercy we all shall 
 finally need than that we forgave our broth- 
 ers' faults. 
 
 " Be true — to friendship and to God, for 
 truth is all of this life worth the having, and 
 perfect truth is what the life to come shall 
 reveal to us. It is the prince of darkness 
 that is the prince of lies." 
 
 This parchment was sealed up in a 
 leaden box and placed in a hollow stone, 
 cemented into the second course of the 
 tower of the church on the inside, and 
 directly opposite a stone in the opposite 
 wall on which was cut a cross. And the 
 church was consecrated in due form, the 
 Lady Robergia and her husband, Francis 
 
 [20] 
 
ROBERGIA 
 
 de Bourdon, attending mass, and kneel- 
 ing at the altar, their little sons beside 
 them. And in the year of our Lord 1220 
 the Lady Robergia died. 
 
 [21] 
 
R O B E R G I A 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Does the world grow old; or is it that 
 with the lapse of years and as the centuries 
 pass on in ever moving cycles, our dear and 
 patient mother still renews her youth ? 
 Sure I am that for those who treat her well 
 she always wears a smiling visage — nor do 
 her gifts ever fail when industry and patience 
 sow the seed and faith awaits the harvest. 
 She only asks of her children that they 
 shall be wise and temperate as was she her- 
 self through the countless ages in which she 
 stored for their comfort and use the riches 
 which lie under the mountains and in her 
 fertile plains. She may seem old when 
 grim-visaged war sweeps across her plains, 
 and tyranny oppresses her sons and daugh- 
 ters and takes from them the fruits of their 
 labors — but she grows young again with the 
 joys of giving. Her coal for industry, her 
 grain for the husbandman, her gold and 
 
 [22] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 gems for the adornment of the beautiful 
 among her children. Music and art abide 
 in her life, and for those who will learn she 
 ever offers the example of obedience to the 
 great lawgiver in whose service she has 
 always had her existence, and at whose be- 
 hest all her deeds are done. 
 
 It was the year of our Lord 1890. Again 
 has spring come in the ever-recurring cycles 
 of rest and fruitfulness which follow the 
 sun in his course, and it is in the new world 
 that our story is enacted by those in whose 
 fortunes our interest is centered. 
 
 A carriage drawn by a pair of stylish bays 
 is just entering the drive which leads from 
 the main road to a house, part new, part 
 old, which is visible across the lawn, and at 
 the end of a shady avenue over which a 
 double row of maples arch their boughs. 
 Two colored men sit upon the box. The 
 carriage has but one occupant, a lady, dressed 
 in white, for the month of May in the 
 
 [23] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 Middle States of the North American Re- 
 public is at times warm. There is some- 
 thing in the poise of the lady's head and 
 attitude which suggest grace of movement 
 even before she alights at the door of the 
 house, which another colored man opens 
 for her entrance. As she smiles her ac- 
 knowledgment of the footman's attention 
 at the carriage door, she turns for a moment 
 to say a word to the coachman in praise of 
 the condition of his horses, and then enters 
 the house. 
 
 The observer hesitates a moment in 
 doubt. Can it be that I have been mis- 
 taken? In the quick estimate of character 
 made when first I saw the carriage and 
 its occupant at the top of the hill and after- 
 wards as they swept up the drive, I had 
 concluded that pride formed the govern- 
 ing element in the lady's character and that 
 haughtiness accompanied the beauty which 
 I could not help but admire. There was 
 no mistaking the carriage of the head — 
 for pride was written all over the contour 
 
 [24] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 of neck and shoulders as their owner sat, 
 and anon rose gracefully to alight. I had 
 seen the same things too often in old pic- 
 tures to be mistaken now. And yet here 
 was this proud beauty who had not vouch- 
 safed me a single glance as she passed, 
 smiling on her servants — and soon a musi- 
 cal laugh and pleasant voice are wafted 
 through an open window as some one — 
 doubtless she herself — tells "Willie" to 
 bring the new evening dress which is to 
 surprise — but who the prospective lucky 
 victim of astonishment is to be, I do not 
 hear. "Willie" I do see, however, for she 
 passes across the hall, and past the open 
 door, carrying a large box — and "Willie " 
 is not a man, as might have been supposed, 
 but a maid, and colored, as seem to be all 
 the other inhabitants of this house, saving 
 only my lady in white. But, notwithstand- 
 ing all I have seen, I still stand by my first 
 impressions — she is as proud as Lucifer! 
 
 Transacting the business which had 
 brought me to the little post village at the 
 
 [25] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 foot of the hill, I decide to retrace my 
 steps, although the direct road to Philadel- 
 phia, where I must be that evening, lies in 
 another direction, and conclude to take 
 the train at a station lying beyond the top 
 of the hill on which is the house up to 
 whose door my lady of pride and conde- 
 scension drove that afternoon. As I reach 
 the gate the same carriage which I had seen 
 two hours before is again just descending 
 the hill. There is now, however, but one 
 man on the box, while its sole occupant is 
 a gentleman apparently about forty years 
 of age. He is stoutly built, wears a silk 
 hat, and is dressed with rather an affectation 
 of neatness. Business and care for affairs 
 is plainly written in the evenly balanced 
 curves of the well-rounded contour of his 
 head, as well as in the gray eyes and firm 
 lines of the face which is now looking at 
 me over the top of the newspaper, which 
 he has been reading and is just about to 
 fold up as a preparation for the alighting, 
 which I know is soon to take place at the 
 
 [26] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 door through which the lady in white dis- 
 appeared earlier in the afternoon. Some- 
 thing which I had heard in the little town 
 at the foot of the hill had increased my 
 interest in this couple of the house at its 
 top, and I invent an excuse for accosting 
 the gentleman, only sorry that I had not 
 risked a rebuff earlier when the lady, too, 
 had passed that way. Seeing my intention 
 the gentleman directed his driver to stop, 
 and to my inquiry as to whether I was on 
 
 the right road to L and could get a 
 
 train there for Philadelphia, received an in- 
 stant answer that covered in a few words all 
 that I could possibly want to know in con- 
 nection with the ostensible object of my 
 inquiry. I was told that " I was on the 
 right road; had fifteen minutes' walk to the 
 
 station at L , would find a train in five 
 
 minutes after reaching there, and would be 
 in Philadelphia at — ," pulling out his watch 
 and consulting it, "twenty minutes past 5 
 o'clock." Before I had quite digested the 
 answer the horses had started, and inclining 
 
 [27] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 his head in reply to my salutation and 
 thanks, the gentleman, following in the foot- 
 steps of the lady — and pleasant ones I still 
 thought them — had alighted at the same 
 door, which he unlocked with a pass-key 
 and entered, carefully closing it behind him. 
 That I am a traveling man is probably 
 against me, for the drummer has the 
 same bad reputation the world over. That 
 I am unmarried is my special misfortune ; 
 and if ever I had thought so before, 
 much the more did I think so as I toiled 
 up the hill and along the road past cottage 
 after cottage until at last I reached the sta- 
 tion and was hurried into the city. What 
 a lucky fellow, thought I, to have such a 
 woman to spoil — and who wouldn't have a 
 stable and an outfit of servants and milli- 
 ners' bills and opera boxes, if such a "my 
 lady" were on hand to grace them! But 
 what a fool I was — only a glimpse on the 
 road and through a door, with ten minutes 
 of gossip at a country store, and visions, 
 coming and going, were dancing through 
 
 [28] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 my head as if she were fancy free and I 
 knight errant. Well, be it so; but with it 
 all I know the style — as proud as Lucifer — 
 but the man who understands her has no 
 common fortune to his lot in this prize of 
 matrimony which he has drawn. 
 
 Whether I shall ever see either of the 
 inmates of the house on the hill again, I 
 do not know, and, as regards the gentle- 
 man, I do not care ; but if ever again my 
 firm should send me from Boston, on a 
 hurry call to Philadelphia, I think I shall 
 again walk from D to L , and, per- 
 haps, lie awake of nights also, wondering at 
 some people's luck and others' misfortunes. 
 
 [29] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 PART III 
 
 It is said that migrating birds, crossing 
 the track which the ships of Columbus fol- 
 lowed, influenced him to a more southerly 
 course. It was this deviation that brought 
 his vessels to the Bahamas for a landing, 
 and left the great North American Conti- 
 nent free from the domination of Spain. It 
 was for England and for the descendants of 
 Englishmen that, in God's wise providence, 
 this great Western land was destined, and 
 so small a thing as the flight of vagrant 
 birds, in their passage from a summer to a 
 winter home, became the instrument in His 
 hands for the accomplishment of His pur- 
 pose. The Puritan of New England, the 
 Quaker of Pennsylvania, and the more 
 aristocratic immigrants of New York and 
 Virginia, found a virgin soil awaiting their 
 coming, and a climate and surroundings 
 which invited them to productive effort 
 
 [30] 
 
R O B E R G I A 
 
 and a method of life which stimulated 
 independence both in thought and action. 
 It was natural, therefore, that the best type 
 of manhood and of government in the long 
 line of Norman, of Saxon, and of German 
 ancestry, out of which England's people had 
 sprung, should reappear in the new Western 
 world to which these sons of the motherland 
 had come. There is much that has hap- 
 pened between the year of our Lord 1900 
 and the flight of migrating birds across the 
 course of the three little ships which carried 
 Columbus and his adventurous crews ; but 
 no greater influence for good has the world 
 ever seen than was then exerted by these 
 birds of passage. 
 * * ***** * 
 
 "If you can get ready by the 18th, we 
 will go to Europe." The speaker was the 
 gentleman already known to the reader 
 as the owner of the house on the hill ; 
 the person addressed, as may be readily 
 guessed, was the "lady in white," with 
 whom we are also acquainted. The gen- 
 
 [31] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 tleman looks somewhat older than when 
 he answered the question addressed to him 
 at his front gate ; the lady gives no sign of 
 lapse of years. " But," said she, "you told 
 me you could not go when I asked you in 
 May last, and now it is July, and you un- 
 expectedly change your mind. Not that 
 I cannot get ready," she added hurriedly, 
 "for you know I am always prepared to go 
 to Europe ; but isn't this change somewhat 
 sudden?" 
 
 "Well, you see, my dear," replied the 
 gentleman, "the world of business, which 
 claims me, and the world of pleasure, over 
 which you preside, and in which I at times am 
 permitted to live, do not always agree in their 
 mandates. Fortunately, the affair which 
 promised to come to a head at midsummer 
 has been postponed until fall, and I can 
 now get away for two months, which I be- 
 lieve is your minimum European tour. If, 
 therefore, you can have my own belongings 
 and yours packed by Saturday next, I have 
 the refusal of our old room on the " Lu- 
 
 [32] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 cania," while Mr. Keppie cables me from 
 Liverpool that he will hold our cabin for 
 the return voyage in September. What 
 say you?" 
 
 "If it were not for the children you very 
 well know what I would say," replied the 
 lady. " I will ask Nannie ; " and she arose 
 from her chair and went across the hall to 
 the telephone. Ringing up " Wynnestay," 
 which was connected by private wire, and 
 where their only and married son lived, the 
 following conversation took place : 
 
 "Well, is that Miss Nannie? No. 
 Please ask her to come to the telephone. 
 Is that you, dear? How are the chil- 
 dren? How is my little violet eyes? 
 Asleep. And how is naughty little Em? 
 Asleep, too. Well, kiss them both for me. 
 Have they been well to-day? What do 
 you think, pa now says he can go to Europe, 
 and wants me to be ready on Saturday, and 
 this is only Tuesday? Would you and 
 ' Jag ' be willing ? Of course, if I want to go. 
 Would miss me awfully. But think pa 
 
 [33] 
 
R O B E R G I A 
 
 ought to have his vacation, and 'Jag' would 
 say the same. Awfully sudden, though. I 
 should say so ; but I don't think I can 
 leave the children for Europe or for any- 
 thing else ; and if I do take your advice and 
 go, it will be the last time. Good-by, dear." 
 
 "Have you decided?" was the greeting 
 which met our lady of the telephone on her 
 return to the library. The answer was a 
 somewhat hesitating "yes ; " and so it hap- 
 pened that on July 18, 1900, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Richard Y. Cook, of Philadelphia, were 
 comfortably established in Cabin No. 1 on 
 the Cunarder "Lucania;" and having ar- 
 ranged their effects, were sitting on the 
 promenade deck, in their steamer-chairs, 
 watching the fast-disappearing Long Island 
 shore as the great liner ploughed her way 
 to the eastward. 
 
 "Do you know," said the gentleman, 
 "that I have never told you the real rea- 
 son for our sudden trip to Europe? " 
 
 "Indeed," said the lady; "and pray why 
 not, for I shall want a good reason since my 
 
 [34] 
 
NAVE AND CHANCEL, 
 
 CHURCH OF ST. PETER AND ST. PAUL, 
 
 HEADCORN, KENT. 
 
 [See Note 1".] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 pleasure seems not to have been the incit- 
 ing cause?" 
 
 " Because, ' ' said he, " I wanted to have the 
 gratification of feeling that you were going to 
 please me, and after that to have the added 
 pleasure of doing everything I could to 
 make your trip a pleasant one. So see now 
 what I have laid out for your profit and 
 amusement? About three months since," 
 continued the speaker, " I thought I would 
 see what I could find out about the story 
 which has been handed down in your 
 father's family concerning the first immi- 
 grant to America coming in his own ship, 
 etc., etc." 
 
 "And what have you found out?" said 
 the lady quickly. 
 
 "Well, just sufficient to prove it not true, 
 but with enough of verity to account for the 
 tradition. The first immigrant may have 
 come in his own ship, but there is no way 
 of proving it ; but, in the second migration 
 from New England to New Jersey, which 
 took place in the eighteenth century, the 
 
 [35] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 Borden of that day and journey undoubt- 
 edly transported himself and his effects by 
 water, and in all probability sailed in his 
 own vessel." 
 
 "You interest me," said the lady. "And 
 what else did you find out?" 
 
 "I will tell you," said he; "or, better still, 
 I will read it to you, for I have written it 
 all out." And going into the cabin he al- 
 most immediately came out with a formid- 
 able roll of manuscript in his hand. 
 
 " Let me see," said the lady, laying down 
 her book and looking at her watch. " It is now 
 four o'clock, dinner at seven, thirty minutes 
 in which to dress, leaves two and one-half 
 hours for the reading. I will sacrifice my 
 nap to the manes of my ancestors, and if I 
 prove not to be a good listener it will be 
 because of the faults of the narrative ; the 
 audience and the subject are, of course, be- 
 yond criticism." 
 
 The narrative was called "The 
 Borden (anciently Bourdon) Family in 
 America," and while I will not give it here 
 
 [36] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 in full, sufficient to say that it was almost six 
 o'clock before it was finished. Compressed 
 into reasonable compass it seemed that 
 Richard Borden, of Kent, England, had 
 emigrated to America in 1633, and had set- 
 tled first on the island of Aquidneck, Rhode 
 Island, and had afterwards laid out the 
 town of Portsmouth, in the same State. 
 More or less active in public affairs in each 
 generation, his descendants had been traced 
 with certainty to the Borden who had, in 
 turn, taken up lands in New Jersey, and the 
 eight generations beginning with Richard 
 Borden and ending with Lavinia, daughter of 
 John Borden, and wife of Richard Y. Cook, 
 of Philadelphia, were defined and described 
 with accuracy and great wealth of detail. A 
 most interesting feature of this genealogy 
 was that, by intermarriage between the two 
 families in the past, Richard Borden had 
 also become one of the husband's ancestors 
 as well. So that the two travelers who 
 were crossing the Atlantic in the year 1900 
 had the same great-grandfather, who, in the 
 
 [37] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 seventeenth century, made the same jour- 
 ney; but under what different conditions, 
 and with how little idea of the wealth of 
 history that was to follow ! 
 
 "How interesting ! " said the wife, as the 
 reader ceased and folded his manuscript. 
 " And to think that one of your great-grand- 
 fathers should have married one of my dear 
 old great-grandmothers way back in the 
 times when the Indians were in the woods, 
 and the men went to church with guns in 
 their hands! Now I know," added she, 
 "why it is I couldn't help liking you. You 
 see my old great-grandmother sealed my 
 fate for me." 
 
 " And may the Lord reward her with all 
 good things," replied the husband. "Don't 
 you know," he continued, "that two other 
 matters in this narrative have greatly inter- 
 ested me, and have directly led to the jour- 
 ney we are now making ? In the first place, 
 it is absolutely sure that the Cooks and the 
 Bordens were neighbors in England before 
 coming to America. You see the first 
 
 [38] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 Cook here (Thomas by name) and the 
 first Borden arrived within one year of each 
 other, and settled at the same place. One 
 evidently sent for the other by prior ar- 
 rangement. This is one of the things I 
 want to look up. The other point of inter- 
 est is the use, way back in the beginning of 
 the eighteenth century, of the surname of 
 'Robergia.' I don't know why it is, but 
 this name, which one of the young mothers 
 of the line gave her first-born daughter, 
 haunts me. That it is a family name I 
 cannot doubt. It is too unusual to be an 
 accident. It is also in derivation a curious 
 mixture of Norman and Anglo-Saxon, and 
 its use by this mother of the new country 
 points most clearly to a prior mother of the 
 same name in the old land across the sea. 
 If you are willing, therefore, I want to de- 
 vote whatever is necessary of our time to 
 finding out whether there has not been a 
 ' Robergia ' in the Borden line in England 
 prior to 1633, and just when and where she 
 lived, for I am sure the name is so old a 
 
 [39] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 one that if we discover the first who bore it 
 we will have found who and what was the 
 oldest Borden within the reach of modern 
 inquiry." 
 
 " How curious ! " said the lady ; " but do 
 you know that when you read that name in 
 your narrative my heart jumped and a queer 
 sensation passed over me. Of course, it is 
 all nonsense; but if I believed in such things, 
 I would say that the spirit of some c Rober- 
 gia' of the long ago had influenced me. It 
 is strange," she continued reflectively, "but 
 I already feel that I could no more go back 
 without a search for l Robergia ' than live 
 without you and my dear ones at home." 
 And so it was that the search for the " Lady 
 Robergia Borden" was agreed upon. 
 
 Some materials had been collected, it 
 seemed. The gentleman had found, in his 
 search among the annals of Kent, that 
 there was an old town there called Borden, 
 situated near Sittingbourne, a station on the 
 Southeastern Railroad, about fifty miles 
 from London. Writing to a correspondent 
 
 [40] 
 
LADY CHAPEL, 
 
 CHURCH OF ST. PETER AND ST. PAUL, 
 
 HEADCORN, KENT. 
 
 [See NoH G 
 
R O B E R G I A 
 
 in London, he had received a letter just be 
 fore sailing, in which was the information 
 hurriedly conveyed that a great deal had 
 been ascertained, but, of necessity, reserved 
 for a personal interview, which was sug- 
 gested at the Hotel Metropole, in London, 
 for the Saturday evening of the arrival of 
 the "Lucania" at Liverpool. The letter 
 read : " My information is of that character, 
 and your stay is to be so short, that I deem 
 it wise to communicate with you at the 
 earliest moment possible after your arrival. 
 Please come immediately from Liverpool 
 to London. I will call at the Hotel Metro- 
 pole, where I understand you always stop 
 when in London, and shall expect to find 
 you there at 8 p.m. on July 25th." The 
 signature of one of the best genealogists in 
 England was affixed to this letter. 
 
 "Well," said the lady, "here is a sur- 
 prise — and what a delightful air of mystery 
 about it all! — and such a dear hubby to have 
 arranged it all for me! But," continued 
 she, thoughtfully, "I cannot explain the 
 
 [41] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 feeling I experienced when first you men- 
 tioned the name 'Robergia' to me. It was 
 as if some invisible power had laid hold 
 of me that was both compelling and be- 
 seeching. Indeed, it frightens me when I 
 think of it. What is the ' Lady Robergia ' 
 to me, and what am I to 'Robergia?' ' 
 
 " That is just what I am determined to 
 find out," said the husband, "and if your 
 wit, my pertinacity, and our London cor- 
 respondent's knowledge do not discover it, 
 you may rest assured that it is undiscover- 
 able." 
 
 The usual routine of life aboard ship 
 passed through its six days of continually 
 recurring incidents. The captain, reason- 
 ably affable to the passengers at his table, 
 our voyagers being there established for 
 their meals, attended strictly to business 
 when not in the saloon, and navigated his 
 ship, leaving gossip and small talk to those 
 who enjoyed it. The purser buckled on 
 his sword-belt on Sunday and read the ser- 
 vice, and particularly the petition for " Peace 
 
 [42] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 in our time," with great unction. The pas- 
 sengers, divided into first trippers who 
 didn't know and old stagers who did, were 
 equally and impartially treated by Neptune 
 in the distribution of the prizes of the 
 Mal-de-mer lottery. The concert was given 
 as usual in the saloon on Thursday evening. 
 On Friday, at noon, the Irish coast was 
 sighted, and at half-past 2 o'clock the Fast- 
 net was abeam. Queenstown was reached 
 on the same afternoon at 5 o'clock, and the 
 two tenders, "America" and "Ireland," 
 were found awaiting the great ship at the 
 entrance to the harbor. The passengers 
 for Ireland and the mails were soon trans- 
 ferred, and with a sigh the engines again 
 began their task as the last 240 miles of the 
 long voyage from New York to Liverpool 
 were rapidly covered by the fast-moving 
 ship. At 9 o'clock on Saturday morning, 
 notwithstanding a short delay for the tide 
 at the bar at the mouth of the Mersey, the 
 steamer was brought alongside the landing- 
 stage and her passengers quickly passed 
 
 [43] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 ashore. At 11 o'clock the special for Lon- 
 don left the Riverside station of the North- 
 western Railway, and at 3 P.M., with a 
 triumphant shriek, the engine pulled into 
 Euston station, completing the journey of 
 3,500 miles begun, almost to a minute, just 
 seven days before. At the Hotel Metro- 
 pole our travelers found their suite of rooms 
 awaiting them as ordered by cable ten days 
 before. 
 
 At precisely 8 o'clock a knock at the 
 door of our travelers' apartments is followed 
 by the handing in of the card of a genealo- 
 gist employed a month before, who will be 
 known to us as Miss W., for it is a common 
 fact that ladies are among the most success- 
 ful of the class engaged in untangling from 
 the records of the past those interesting, 
 but long-forgotten facts, which make real 
 men and women of those who have lived 
 and worked and suffered that we in turn 
 may take up the never-ending task to which 
 mysterious fate has assigned the human 
 race. 
 
 [44] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 Upon being shown to our travelers' apart- 
 ments Miss W., after introduction to Mrs. 
 Cook, began her story thus : 
 
 "When first I read your letter and such 
 data as you could give me, I despaired of 
 doing much for you. The fact that Richard 
 Borden, in his will, made in America subse- 
 quent to 1633, mentioned that he had cer- 
 tain tenements in Kent which he had from 
 his father, gave, of course, a clue, but the 
 destruction of records brought about by 
 the constantly recurring struggles between 
 the rival houses of York and Lancaster, 
 and afterwards by the Civil War between 
 Charles I and his Parliament, has made 
 almost hopeless any recourse to parish 
 registers, etc. There was, however, one 
 hope. This lay in the Canterbury wills. 
 Here, and particularly if the families sought 
 were attached to the Church, might be found 
 what we were looking for. Fortune favored 
 us and I have traced, through an unbroken 
 series of wills, Richard Borden's ancestors 
 for eight generations to Henry Borden or 
 
 [45] 
 
ROB ERGI A 
 
 Burden, of Hedcorn, who was born in the 
 year 1370. Now this is extraordinary and 
 ought to satisfy any one who, starting out 
 in America in the year of our Lord 1900, 
 seeks to discover from whom he is de- 
 scended of those who lived in England in 
 the days when few could read and fewer 
 still could even write a record by which 
 alone a remembrance could be conveyed to 
 later generations. But that Mrs. Cook here 
 is the sixteenth generation from Henry 
 Borden — variously spelled Bourdon, Bur- 
 den and Borden, of Hedcorn, County Kent, 
 England — who was born A.D. 1370, is abso- 
 lutely certain, and I could prove it in any 
 Court of Chancery in England. This, how- 
 ever, is not what I wanted to see you about 
 personally, and I must say that in all the 
 investigations with which I have been 
 charged, there has never been one which 
 has reached the stage to which this has 
 come. In fact, it has got where, being a 
 woman, I cannot successfully handle it fur- 
 ther. Not that 1 mean," she quickly added, 
 
 [46] 
 
ANCIENT FONT, 
 
 CHURCH OF ST. PETER AND ST. PAUL, 
 
 HEADCORN, KENT. 
 
 | Sec Note 11.1 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 "that I intend to drop it. On the contrary, 
 I am intensely interested, and I am here 
 to-night largely that I may urge upon you 
 the wisdom, and even the imperative ne- 
 cessity, that you do not allow this investiga- 
 tion to cease where I must needs stop in its 
 active prosecution." 
 
 As Miss W. ceased talking to take breath 
 her auditors noticed her agitation. Begging 
 her to proceed, she continued : 
 
 " I must apologize for what must appear 
 singular to you in my manner and words ; 
 but indeed I cannot help them, and the 
 excuse I shall give you, which is the only 
 one I can offer, may not seem sufficient; 
 but such as it is, I will now present it. 
 When I examined the old wills of the Can- 
 terbury Collection, I remember taking an 
 interest in the recurrence of certain peculiar 
 family names. We genealogists, you know, 
 consider the duplication of names a pretty 
 sure indication of relationship. In the 
 case of Mrs. Cook's ancestry, however, 
 the continuity does not depend upon any 
 
 [47] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 such clues. The transfer of property by 
 duly authenticated wills establishes each 
 generation in its proper order and place 
 beyond the possibility of question. In the 
 will which brought Henry Borden of Hed- 
 corn into the line, there is mentioned the 
 bequest of 'certain lands which I hold at 
 Borden.' This will was in the second vol- 
 ume of the Canterbury Wills and conse- 
 quently almost at the beginning of those 
 thus transcribed. Of course I went to 
 Borden. The Vicar and a Miss M., who 
 took considerable interest in the matter, 
 were both kind and obliging. The old 
 registers were freely opened to my inspec- 
 tion, but I already knew much more than 
 they could tell me. These records prior 
 to the sixteenth century had either been lost 
 or were illegible, and but few Bordens were 
 entered either for baptism, marriage or 
 death, and none at all after the year 1600. 
 I gave up the search in despair and con- 
 cluded that you would be satisfied with what 
 I already had, as indeed you well might, 
 
 [48] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 since not a client I have ever had has had 
 better fortune. 
 
 "It being too late to drive to Sitting- 
 bourne in time to take a train for London, 
 the Vicar kindly asked me to remain over 
 night at the Vicarage, and I thankfully ac- 
 cepted his invitation, as also his permission 
 to inspect the old church, to the tower-door 
 of which he gave me the key. There could 
 be no doubt of the antiquity of the building. 
 The tower was undoubtedly of the twelfth 
 or thirteenth century. The choir was quite 
 as old. The nave might be a century later. 
 Therefore the building tallied with the tra- 
 dition which you mentioned to me that Sir 
 Simon de Bourdon founded it in the reign 
 of King Stephen. But we genealogists 
 never put too much faith in so-called tradi- 
 tions. They are often invented by later 
 generations, and then, of course, are made 
 to fit already ascertained conditions. 
 
 " After completing my examination of the 
 building I sat down in one of the pews and 
 took out my manuscript, intending to cor- 
 
 [49] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 rect it so that it would be ready for the mail 
 which would leave London the next after- 
 noon for the United States. I had no sooner 
 begun to read than I was sensible of a queer 
 sensation. I cannot describe it to you. I 
 am not in the least superstitious, but such 
 a feeling I had never felt before. It passed 
 away in a few minutes, when suddenly I felt 
 the same thing again, and this time more 
 intensely. I was frightened, and yet not in 
 the ordinary sense. There was no impres- 
 sion that the locality, or the building, or 
 anything in or about them, threatened me 
 with harm. Quite the contrary. I was en- 
 tirely satisfied to be just where I was, but 
 something seemed to have possession of 
 me. I can imagine that hypnotism is thus 
 exercised, and that the person hypnotized 
 feels exactly as I felt. Again the feeling 
 passed away. Again I resumed my reading. 
 Again and suddenly I shook with emotion ; 
 my manuscript almost fell from my hands 
 and I started up, this time thoroughly 
 alarmed. As I have already said, I am not 
 
 [50] 
 
REPRODUCTIONS OF ENTRIES IN THE REGISTER 
 
 OF THE CHURCH OF ST. PETER AND 
 
 ST. PAUL, HEADCORN, KENT. 
 
 
 Richard son Matthew Borden, baptized Feb. 22, 1595.' 
 
 IC2.S 
 
 cm««h <£h**„ c^y.^ ffaa ,.._^ &: 
 
 Richard Borden and Joan Fowle, married Septb. 28, 1625. 
 
 
 ' Richard sonne of Richard Borden, ban. July 9, 1626." 
 
 
 Thomas sonne of Richard Borden, bap. October 23, 1627.' 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 at all nervous. Contrary to English cus- 
 toms, I use no stimulants of any kind, even 
 avoiding tea— ^the national beverage. It so 
 happened that I had just finished a page as 
 the feeling had come over me, and when in 
 a few moments I had sufficiently regained 
 my composure to gather up my papers, I 
 noticed the last word, the reading of which 
 had been coincident with the attack which 
 had so alarmed me. This word was * Ro- 
 bergia.' I then remembered that it was the 
 same word which had been before my eyes 
 and in my mind when the other attacks had 
 startled me, but in less degree. You will 
 recall that ' Robergia ' is a name much used 
 by the earlier Bordens as a surname for the 
 daughters of the family. Early in the in- 
 vestigation I was much impressed by the 
 constant recurrence of the name and I was 
 satisfied that this use indicated the promi- 
 nence of its first owner in the annals of the 
 family. 
 
 "As I sat in the old church, where per- 
 chance this first lady Robergia might often 
 
 [51] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 have worshipped, my thoughts almost with- 
 out effort spanned the centuries, and in my 
 mind's eye I saw, amid the gathering gloom 
 of the fast-fading day, the old altar again 
 surrounded by the officiating priest and his 
 acolytes, while the deepening shadows 
 cast by the tracery of the windows, and by 
 many a corbel, capital and column, peopled 
 the pews with beings as weird and unsub- 
 stantial as my thoughts. And as I mused 
 the sun at last went down and left the 
 church in darkness. Still I lingered, and 
 perhaps for half an hour fancy after fancy 
 chased each other across my mind, as 
 knight and lady, priest and suppliant, lord 
 and peasant came and went in a curious 
 medley of half real, half unsubstantial pic- 
 tures of men and women and things and 
 actions of the long ago. At last I arose, 
 intending to return to the vicarage. I had 
 been seated in one of the pews of the nave 
 facing the altar. The door of exit was in 
 the tower, and, of course, at the west end 
 of the church. Walking carefully, for it 
 
 [52] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 was quite dark, I opened the door of the 
 pew and stepped into the aisle. Taking a 
 last look at the altar, where a faint glimmer 
 of light came through the old glass of the 
 windows in the east wall, I turned towards 
 the tower, intending to leave the building, 
 when I was again sensible of the weird and 
 unearthly feeling which had already come 
 over me three times before on that after- 
 noon, and as I looked towards the door of 
 exit, a ghostly light flickered for a moment 
 across my sight, went out and then re- 
 appeared, and again went out. I clutched 
 the nearest pew for support, or I should 
 have fallen, so startled was I. 
 
 "As I have already told you, I am neither 
 a nervous woman nor a foolish girl. 
 What happened there occurred as I tell it 
 to you, strange as it may seem. I soon 
 recovered, and my first thought was to 
 escape from the place as soon as possible. 
 But we are all creatures of habit, and my 
 second thought, true to my daily routine of 
 investigation, was to discover, if possible, 
 
 [53] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 what this light was and what it meant. I 
 waited for it to reappear, walking slowly 
 towards the place where I had seen it, 
 which, as well as I could judge in the dark- 
 ness, was somewhere on the west wall of 
 the tower. I had almost reached the west- 
 ern end of the building, my eyes fixed on 
 the spot where I expected to see the light, 
 and my steps carefully guided by the sense 
 of feeling in my hand, which followed the 
 line of pews, when suddenly the apparition 
 again appeared, shone brightly on the west 
 wall of the tower for perhaps the space of 
 thirty seconds, flickered for a moment and 
 then went out, and although I waited for 
 fully half an hour, it did not again appear. 
 As I opened the tower door, both gladly 
 and regretfully, for a strange fascination 
 held me to the place, while a fear which I 
 both acknowledged and protested against 
 urged me to leave, a gust of wind almost 
 tore it out of my grasp, and great drops of 
 rain, the precursor of a storm which raged 
 all night, drove into my face. I hurriedly 
 
 [54] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 closed and locked the door and hastened 
 to the house, which I reached after a slight 
 wetting, for it was near at hand, to be most 
 hospitably received by the vicar and his 
 wife. They commented on the length of 
 my stay in the old church, which I explained 
 by my devotion to the antique both in build- 
 ings and story, for I deemed it unwise to 
 say anything to them of the fancy which had 
 possessed me, and which had grown out of 
 the happenings of that afternoon. I cannot 
 explain this feeling of reticence better than 
 by saying that I felt as if they were merely 
 a modern accident in their connection with 
 the old church, and that its true owners 
 were those who, like your wife, can trace 
 their descent back to its founders. That 
 the church was i built by a Borden I firmly 
 believe, although as yet I cannot prove it; 
 but I am convinced the proof can be 
 secured, and what is as yet only an instinct 
 assures me that this evidence is somewhere 
 about the building itself. A curious com- 
 bination of circumstances leads me to this 
 
 [55] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 conclusion, and if you will listen for a few 
 moments longer I think you will agree with 
 me. Let me briefly recapitulate the cir- 
 cumstances : 
 
 "First. Mr. Cook, of Philadelphia, re- 
 quests me, a professional genealogist, resid- 
 ing in London, to investigate the ancestry 
 of one Richard Borden, who sailed from 
 England for America in the year 1633. 
 
 "Second. I take up the work, fix my 
 fee and begin an investigation in a perfectly 
 cold-blooded way. In the usual course of 
 my business I look over a great mass of 
 papers, and am unusually successful and 
 proportionately elated and gratified because 
 of the pleasure I shall have in advising my 
 clients of my discoveries. Business only, 
 however, has thus far marked my acts and 
 influenced my feelings, when I reach stage: 
 
 "Third. And finding in one of the old 
 wills mention of 'Borden,' a town of Kent, 
 I take a run down there to see whether there 
 may not be some further clue or addition 
 to my already most satisfactory discoveries, 
 
 [56] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 and enter into an entirely different relation 
 to the matter. From a cool-headed and 
 judicially-minded investigator, I suddenly 
 become an ardent partisan. From the 
 earthly, I turn to the unearthly. No longer 
 do records and registers, deeds and wills 
 influence me. I am possessed by some- 
 thing, and I cannot tell what. The Lady 
 Robergia lived, and it is the Lady Robergia 
 I must find. It is not I, nor you, that has 
 so determined, for I believe it is the Lady 
 Robergia herself who wills it. 
 
 "And now, Mr. Cook," said Miss W., 
 "if you will take some risk I believe I have 
 the clue, and this clue I will give to no one 
 other than yourself and your wife, and 
 only to you if you will consent to act on it. 
 And now that you have heard my story 
 what is your answer?" Miss W. paused 
 and looked at her auditors. 
 
 After a few minutes' thought Mr. Cook 
 spoke. "I have," said he, "been much 
 interested in your story. Already pre- 
 pared, because of my own experience, to 
 
 [57] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 sympathize with your feelings, it requires 
 but little explanation to enable me to under- 
 stand the conclusions you have reached and 
 the causes which have led up to them. The 
 introduction of the supernatural, or at least 
 that which is closely akin to the super- 
 natural, does not seem to me so strange as 
 you may have supposed I would think it. 
 I am a man of business, and engaged in 
 pursuits and the accomplishment of pur- 
 poses far removed from either the romantic 
 or the imaginative, and yet I have myself 
 experienced a singular interest, not to use 
 a stronger phrase, in the Lady Robergia, 
 who must have been the first of the Borden 
 line of that name. My wife states that the 
 same curious and peculiar feeling has been 
 manifest in her emotions. There are, there- 
 fore, three persons interested in this investi- 
 gation who are entirely in sympathy with 
 its purposes and peculiar developments. 
 But when you suggest the taking of a risk, 
 I must, in ordinary prudence, decline to 
 commit myself until I know exactly what 
 
 [58] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 the extent of the risk is, and I cannot pledge 
 myself nor my support to any scheme in 
 advance of its complete disclosure. Much 
 as I desire to hear your story to its close, I 
 must decline to go further unless I reserve 
 complete liberty of action to myself after 
 full information." 
 
 Miss W. hesitated a moment before re- 
 plying. At last she said: "I know your 
 requirements are reasonable. At the same 
 time I feel that I am pledged, in some un- 
 accountable way, to the fulfilment of a pur- 
 pose. Ever since that night at Borden I 
 know that a mysterious message has been 
 delivered to me. Its commands I must 
 obey. If you will not do what is needed 
 I must seek some one else, and this some 
 one must be, as you are, a descendant of 
 the Bordens of Borden. To no one else 
 can my message be delivered, and no one 
 else shall do the work. If, then, I tell you 
 what I have discovered, will you at least 
 promise that if you do not carry the matter 
 through you will not disclose what 1 have 
 
 [59] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 told you, nor in any way interfere with the 
 purpose I have in view?" 
 
 "To the making of that promise I have 
 no objection," said Mr. Cook. "I will not 
 disclose what you are about to tell me, and 
 I will not interfere with your plans if I do 
 not myself decide to carry them out. Is 
 not that your decision also?" he continued, 
 turning to his wife. 
 
 "It is," said Mrs. Cook; "but I hope 
 you may be able to do what Miss W. 
 wishes. I am sure I will help if I can." 
 
 "Very well," said Miss W. "With this 
 understanding I will proceed," and taking a 
 roll of manuscript from a small hand-bag 
 which she had brought with her, she se- 
 lected a paper on which was roughly drawn 
 what appeared to be the ground plan of a 
 church, the most prominent feature being 
 the outline of a square tower of consider- 
 able size relatively to the proportions of the 
 structure. Spreading this paper on the 
 table, she began : 
 
 "You will recollect that after leaving the 
 
 [60] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 church at Borden on the evening of my 
 singular experience, which night is now just 
 four weeks ago, I remained at the vicarage 
 over night, and returned to London the 
 next morning. You will not be surprised 
 when I tell you that I slept but little. While 
 lying awake, I went over the whole of the 
 day's occurrences most carefully. Do what 
 I would, I could not reason them away. 
 There was only the continued iteration and 
 reiteration so familiar to those with whom 
 the hours that should be devoted to sleep 
 become the theater of wakefulness. I went 
 over and over my experience, as I have 
 already said, and only to more thoroughly 
 believe in the reality and significance of 
 everything that had happened. At last my 
 conclusions were made up, and a plan took 
 definite shape in my mind. Curious to 
 relate, no sooner had this result been 
 reached than I fell asleep, and did not 
 awaken until the sun, shining through the 
 curtains, announced the new-born day. This 
 day was Sunday, and there was but one 
 
 [61] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 train I could take. Leaving Borden at 
 10 o'clock by carriage, I could catch an up 
 train at Sittingbourne, reaching London at 
 1 o'clock. Of course, my original inten- 
 tion of mailing my letter to you on Satur- 
 day afternoon, so as to catch the steamer at 
 Queenstown, was no longer a possibility. 
 But that by which I had been prevented was 
 by far more important in its promised de- 
 velopments. Dressing hurriedly, I reached 
 the dining-room justas breakfast was served, 
 and after partaking of the meal, of which I 
 must confess I ate but little, I again asked 
 permission to look at the church, to which 
 request the vicar smilingly assented, mak- 
 ing some casual remark upon the attractions 
 it seemed to have for me. 
 
 " I was soon again in the building, and 
 went directly to the tower. I had no time to 
 lose, for service would commence at 10.30 
 o'clock, and it was now past 9, and I had 
 much to do. Taking my bearings, as nearly 
 as I could, I located the spot on the west 
 wall where I had seen the light the night 
 
 [62] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 before, and began a close examination of 
 its surface. The stones were of irregular 
 length, but of the same width, making 
 regular courses all around the inside tower 
 wall. There was nothing visible on the 
 first stone which I selected, and its neigh- 
 bors on either side were equally barren 
 of results ; so was the stone immediately 
 above it. I was much disappointed; and 
 going back to my original position of the 
 night before, I again recalled the circum- 
 stances, and tried again to locate the light. 
 This time I noticed, from where I stood, 
 a peculiarity in the stones. While they 
 varied in length, they were approximately 
 the same in other particulars. But on the 
 second course from the floor I now noticed 
 one stone that was at least twice as long 
 as any of its neighbors, and this stone 
 was directly under that which I had at 
 first thought to be the one touched by 
 the ghostly light which had startled me. 
 As quickly as I could I reached this spot, 
 which I have marked here" — pointing to 
 
 [63] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 the plan — "and began a critical examination 
 of the surface of the stone, and was soon 
 rewarded by the discovery of a Latin cross 
 cut into its face, but almost obliterated by 
 the wear and abrasions of what I judged 
 were the 700 years which had passed since 
 it was carved. After what had happened 
 I could not doubt the significance of this 
 discovery ; but how should I interpret its 
 meaning? 
 
 "Acting quickly, for I felt that intuition 
 or inspiration was now a better guide than 
 reason, I followed my first impulse, which 
 was to examine the floor directly under the 
 stone. This floor was also of stone, and I 
 soon saw that, while it had been renewed 
 in places, the original work had remained 
 undisturbed along the side of the tower 
 which I was examining. This was partly 
 owing to the fact that the position of the 
 door of entrance was such as to divert 
 the course of travel away from this side of 
 the tower, and partly because, as I was de- 
 lighted to find, the particular stone in which 
 
 [64] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 I was interested, and which you will see I 
 have also marked on the plan, had been 
 built into the wall, and was much larger 
 than any of its fellows. Examining it more 
 closely, I discovered a marked indentation 
 which extended some four inches from the 
 wall and at right angles with it. It was 
 then lost in a depression, undoubtedly 
 caused by the friction of the feet of the 
 many generations that had come and gone 
 over its surface. 
 
 " Using my penknife to remove the dirt 
 in the cutting which I had found, I was 
 soon warranted in the conclusion that it 
 might have formed the shaft of an arrow 
 pointing directly to the opposite wall, the 
 head of which had been ground down 
 and had disappeared with the creation of 
 the depression I have already mentioned. 
 Greatly excited, I measured the exact dis- 
 tance of the cross on the large stone from 
 the angle of the walls, and applying the 
 same measure to the east wall of the tower 
 was delighted to find there, and in the sec- 
 
 [65] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 ond course from the floor, a stone the exact 
 counterpart of the one in the west wall on 
 which the cross was cut. You will observe 
 I have marked the position of this stone 
 also. On its face there was an unmistak- 
 able indication that it had once borne, al- 
 though faintly cut, an arrow-head. The 
 conclusion was unavoidable. Whoever had 
 cut the cross — a common emblem marking 
 the corner-stones of churches of that day, 
 as it does in our time — had the further pur- 
 pose in mind of directing attention to the 
 stone in the opposite wall. The arrow-head 
 was missing from the shaft cut in the floor, 
 as you will remember. It had never been 
 there. It was, instead, cut on the stone of 
 the east wall, which I had discovered. Be- 
 hind that stone lies whatever there is of 
 value. There we will find the Lady Ro- 
 bergia's history, and, I believe, her mes- 
 sage also. I am not only firmly convinced 
 you will discover what I suppose to be 
 there, but that I am also commissioned 
 to see that it reaches none but those for 
 
 [66] 
 

 IB 
 
 ■ 
 
 - 
 
 1 {pi 
 
 I 
 
 
 ^■1 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 whom it was intended ; that is, her descend- 
 ants. And now will you undertake to 
 remove that stone and secure what I am 
 sure you will find behind it? " 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Cook, "your story is 
 a remarkable one; but what you propose 
 is certainly trespass, and might be construed 
 into burglary, or certainly larceny if we 
 take anything away. Why not try the vicar 
 or church authorities, and get permission to 
 remove the stone? " 
 
 "I thought of that plan," said Miss W„ 
 " and rejected it. Whatever is found would 
 be claimed by the church and stuffed into 
 some museum or other. You see a manu- 
 script of the thirteenth century found under 
 such circumstances would be of great value, 
 and a curiosity beyond comparison with 
 anything of the kind I know of. Besides, 
 it is impossible to do as you suggest. The 
 Lady Robergia's message, if it be there, is 
 to her descendants only. It is not, in any 
 sense, the property of those who now have 
 the church in charge. Seven hundred years 
 
 [67] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 ago a church was built. Since then its custo- 
 dians have changed in person perhaps fifty 
 times, and, besides, the Church of England 
 has taken it from the Church of Rome, to 
 whom it was originally given. There is 
 no ownership of right, and certainly none of 
 sentiment, in those papers saving that which 
 vests in the Bordens of to-day, of course 
 taking it for granted that these are manu- 
 scripts of the character which I suppose." 
 "You reason the matter out pretty well," 
 said Mr. Cook; "but that would not avail 
 much in an English court in answer to a 
 charge of trespass, or malicious mischief, or 
 by whatever name the forcible entry and 
 despoiling of a church might be called in 
 this country. However, if the attempt is 
 to be made under the conditions you affix 
 it must be done without accomplices, and 
 pretty much as you suggest. I will think 
 the matter over. By the way," continued 
 the speaker, "is the stone too large to be 
 handled by one person should it be taken 
 from the wall?" 
 
 [68] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 " Although larger than its neighbors, it is 
 not too heavy, and if, as I conjecture, a 
 hollow has been cut in it to receive the 
 leaden box, in which the parchment manu- 
 script is undoubtedly sealed there will 
 be just that much taken from its weight. 
 I can also tell you that the mortar holding 
 it is very friable and easily removed. I 
 would suppose, however, that the better 
 plan would be to remove the two smaller 
 stones of the course immediately above it. 
 The opening which holds the box, provided 
 it is there, doubtless is in the top of the 
 large stone, and the removal of those stones 
 would uncover that which we are looking 
 for. I have been so possessed by the 
 scheme which I have disclosed to you 
 that I have been in Borden again since 
 my original visit, and I find the whole 
 town is abed by 10 o'clock, and, what is 
 more, the neighborhood of the church is 
 absolutely deserted after nightfall. I am 
 satisfied that in thirty minutes the stones 
 could be removed and the papers secured. 
 
 [69] 
 
ROBERGIA 
 
 It might take fifteen minutes more to re- 
 store the wall to its original condition and 
 clean up the debris. I will give you the 
 address of the driver who took me to and 
 from Sittingbourne. He is entirely de- 
 voted to my interests because of a service 
 I once did him when he was wrongfully 
 accused of a theft from a passenger while 
 he was a cab-driver in London. And now, 
 recalling your pledge to me, I will say good 
 night, and will call again on Tuesday even- 
 ing to hear your decision. Meanwhile I 
 will also leave the plan of the church with 
 you." 
 
 After Miss W. had left, Mr. Cook had 
 a quiet discussion of her proposition, partly 
 with Mrs. Cook and partly with himself. 
 The wife dissuaded, at first strongly, but 
 finally only half-heartedly, and at the end 
 actually suggested that the matter be looked 
 into. Queer to say, Mr. Cook got into the 
 same state of mind, and whatever the influ- 
 ences which possessed them, here were two 
 sensible and respectable people actually 
 
 [70] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 contemplating the commission of an act 
 which it would be hard to excuse in the eye 
 of the law, however plausible the explana- 
 tion along the lines laid down by Miss W. 
 As Sunday followed the interview we 
 have noted at such length, of course noth- 
 ing could be done, but on Monday action 
 was taken. Just what it was I may not 
 say, but early on Tuesday morning a leaden 
 box, cylindrical in shape and about six 
 inches long and four inches in diameter, 
 lay on a table in a room on the second floor 
 of the Hotel Metropole, in London. A 
 gentleman and a lady were contemplating 
 it with great curiosity. It was apparently 
 seamless, having been hammered together. 
 On what appeared to be intended as the 
 top was a coat-of-arms — the crest a lion 
 rampant, holding a battle-axe, and the shield 
 bearing a device which in all respects 
 corresponded with the traditional Borden 
 arms except in one quartering, and doubt- 
 less this was the quartering of the Lady 
 Robergia's family, for neither of the ob- 
 
 [71] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 servers had now any doubt as to who was 
 the original owner of the box and the author 
 of its contents. Curiosity as to that which 
 it contained was unbounded, but it was de- 
 cided to postpone the opening until Miss 
 W. should arrive. Promptly at 8 o'clock 
 the lady in question sent up her card, and 
 her surprise can be imagined when she 
 found the box already in the possession of 
 those to whom she had given the time which 
 had elapsed merely for the consideration of 
 her proposal, not for an instant supposing 
 the enterprise would be so speedily under- 
 taken. 
 
 It was with something akin to awe that 
 the ladies waited while Mr. Cook produced 
 a small saw which he had procured that 
 morning at a shop in the Strand, and began 
 to carefully cut into the leaden cylinder 
 along a line drawn around it at its largest 
 diameter and at a point about one-fourth 
 from its top. That the cover had been put 
 on at this point was clearly evident from 
 marks which were still visible. The lead 
 
 [72] 
 
ROBERGIA 
 
 was soft, and it did not take long to pene- 
 trate the outer shell, which was, however, 
 fully three-eighths of an inch thick. Care- 
 fully working the saw while the ladies held 
 the box, this cut was continued about two- 
 thirds of the distance around, when Mr. 
 Cook suddenly stopped his work — so sud- 
 denly, indeed, that the ladies let go of the 
 box, and one of them (which one I shall not 
 tell) gave a little shriek. The box itself would 
 have fallen to the floor had not the gentleman 
 caught it by a quick movement. That all 
 of the party were greatly excited was evi- 
 dent, and even Mr. Cook had to wait a few 
 moments before he regained his compo- 
 sure. 
 
 "We are about," said he at last, "to un- 
 cover that which has remained secluded 
 from the world for probably all of seven 
 centuries ; for, unless every indication is at 
 fault, this box and whatever it contains have 
 lain in the east wall of the tower of the 
 parish church of Borden since the begin- 
 ning of the thirteenth century. The style 
 
 [73] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 of architecture of the church, the condition 
 of the wall and of the box itself prove this 
 conclusively ; but should there be a manu- 
 script inside this ancient casket we shall 
 have no need for conjecture, for it will 
 speak for itself. It is, however, with the 
 most peculiar feelings that I find myself 
 face to face with the next and necessary 
 step. Whether it was by man or woman, 
 or for good or ill that this singular legacy 
 was left to posterity, the thought is awe- 
 inspiring that we are about to look upon 
 something which last saw the light and was 
 last an object of interest to and of actual 
 contact with living beings like ourselves 
 700 years ago. I do not know what this 
 casket may contain ; but whoever placed it 
 in that wall was gathered to his fathers 
 and his dust mingled with that of our 
 common mother hundreds of years before 
 the new world was discovered, and when 
 the language of Chaucer, of Spenser and of 
 Shakespeare was as yet unformed. The 
 circumstances which have led up to its dis- 
 
 [74] 
 
ROBERGIA 
 
 covery also add to the sentiments which it 
 inspires. It is, therefore, with a feeling of 
 profound reverence that I shall bend back 
 the cover of this leaden shell and disclose 
 the secret which has been entrusted to its 
 keeping bv this knight or lady, this priest 
 or penitent of the long ago. Whoever it 
 may have been, may God grant to him or 
 to her, and to us as well, a merciful judg- 
 ment in the world to come, and such knowl- 
 edge of our duty in this world as may lead 
 to its reasonable and faithful discharge." 
 Carefully and with reverent hands the 
 lead was bent back along the line of the 
 cutting which had been made. Equally 
 fearful of finding the shell empty or occu- 
 pied—for if there was nothing, what a dis- 
 appointment! and if there was a manuscript 
 what should its purport be?-the three ob- 
 servers looked into the little box, the in- 
 terior of which was now visible. It took 
 but a glance to show that it was not empty, 
 for a cylinder of yellow cloth lay coiled 
 within the leaden receptacle, nearly filling 
 
 [75] 
 
ROBERGIA 
 
 it. With great difficulty, and after much 
 care, this roll was removed to the hard, 
 smooth surface of the mahogany table. The 
 outside wrappings had evidently been of 
 well-oiled linen. How many there were 
 of these wrappings our intensely interested 
 examiners could not tell, for the cloth, 
 emitting a peculiar odor, fell to pieces 
 wherever touched, so that soon there was 
 nothing left of the outside wrappings but 
 a pile of yellow dust, with some shreds of 
 fiber. The inside roll, or contents, how- 
 ever, seemed more substantial, and appeared 
 to be covered with a substance like clay. 
 Upon carefully applying the blade of a 
 knife, this also dissolved into dust, and was 
 with ease removed. That it had originally 
 been wax was discovered afterwards. Every 
 one was intent upon the inside roll, which, 
 now that it was completely uncovered, could 
 plainly be seen to be parchment. 
 
 Miss W., until now no more excited 
 than the rest of the party, and who had not 
 said a word since the lid of the box had 
 
 [76] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 been bent back, exclaimed excitedly: "I 
 knew it ! I knew it ! A manuscript on parch- 
 ment ! But be careful. Have you writing 
 materials? " and then speaking to Mr. Cook, 
 "ring quickly for pen, ink and paper, and 
 give me the box." 
 
 Taking the box, she placed it carefully 
 over the parchment roll, covering it, 
 as it lay on the table, with her woolen 
 wrap, which I noticed she selected from 
 among other articles in the room capable 
 of the same use, because it had been hang 
 ing before the fire burning in the grate, and 
 was therefore free from any suspicion 
 of dampness. It took but a few minutes 
 to give the order for writing materials and 
 to receive them ; but during those few 
 minutes I thought Miss W. would go out 
 of her mind. She tramped up and down 
 the room, opened the door a half-dozen 
 times, and once actually ran some fifty feet 
 down the corridor, all the time exclaiming: 
 "How foolish that we were not prepared! 
 Why, oh why does he not come with the 
 
 [77] 
 
ROBERG I A 
 
 paper and ink?" So thatwhen the waiter did 
 return the whole party was in a condition of 
 mind bordering on frenzy. 
 
 "Now," said Miss W., "we will know 
 whether all our labor has been for nought, 
 or whether the dead of the days of the 
 Crusades will be allowed, through our 
 efforts, to deliver the message which has 
 been left for those who should come after 
 them, even to the twentieth generation." 
 
 Taking off the covers, which it was plain 
 had been put over the roll to keep the air 
 from it, Miss W. began to unwind the 
 parchment. "Write," she said to Mr. 
 Cook, who had established himself at the 
 other side of the table, while Mrs. Cook 
 stood looking over Miss W.'s shoulder. 
 " Fortune favors us," she continued. " This 
 is in the bastard Latin of the twelfth cen- 
 tury, but it is well done and I know the 
 characters. Write quickly," she said, "and 
 do not lose any time." 
 
 And this is what she read as she care- 
 fully unrolled the old manuscript, and this 
 
 [78] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 is what the gentleman wrote on that night 
 in the beginning of August, in room 112, 
 on the first floor of the Hotel Metropole, 
 which is in Northumberland Avenue, Lon- 
 don : 
 
 The Manuscript Found in the East 
 Wall of the Parish Church at 
 Borden, Kent, England. 
 
 Translated by Miss W., of London. 
 
 It is by the grace of God alone that I am 
 what I am, and through the merits of His 
 dear Son, my Lord and Master, can I 
 alone hope for life hereafter and forgiveness 
 for my many sins. His blessings and gifts 
 to me have been many and far beyond my 
 deserving. That it may be accounted 
 worthy in His sight that I have purposed 
 the building of a church to His honor and 
 for the services of His true and only 
 religion, is my humble prayer, and that He 
 may vouchsafe the accomplishment of my 
 purpose is my most comfortable hope. 
 And I also pray that He may bless my 
 
 [79] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 further purpose with His favor and to the 
 good of those who may come after me. 
 My two boys, which the Lord has given 
 me, are always in my thoughts. Simon, 
 weak and sickly, may not see man's estate. 
 Richard, like the great king from whom 
 he took his name, will be a man of iron — 
 strong in war ; but God and our lady grant 
 that he shall be wise and peaceful also, for 
 war brings sorrow and suffering, as the 
 women of England and of my line know 
 full well. It is from him that the Borden 
 line shall proceed, and it is to his descend- 
 ants, in what age and what land I know 
 not, that I must deliver this message. 
 
 It is now 154 years since Count William 
 of Normandy defeated and killed the great 
 Harold, King of England, on the woeful 
 day of Hastings. There fell also Ethel- 
 wolf, my Saxon ancestor, my dear mother's 
 grandfather and the lord of all the lands 
 which the Norman Conqueror gave to his 
 vassal, Francis de Bourdon, whose grand- 
 son, Sir Simon de Bourdon, in the strange 
 
 [80] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 chances of life and war, became my father. 
 In the veins of my children — Simon, who 
 will die, as the leech sayeth, and Richard, 
 who will live — is therefore the mingled 
 blood of Norman and of Saxon. I love my 
 children, and may not I, the Lady Robergia, 
 the daughter of Elfrida of Kent and of Sir 
 Simon de Bourdon of Bourdon, and the 
 wife of Sir Francis de Bourdon, erstwhile 
 by marriage with me, lord of all the lands 
 of Bourdon, love those who may come after 
 me, and take account of their welfare and 
 leave to them the message which my sor- 
 rows have taught me, and which love for 
 my children's children leads me to give 
 them? 
 
 The land of England is indeed in travail. 
 The hand of the Norman is everywhere 
 raised against the Saxon, and the Saxon 
 stands ready to avenge the wrongs done his 
 forefathers. It is war and not peace; in- 
 justice and not righteousness ; pride and not 
 humble desire to fulfil the laws of God and 
 of religion that I everywhere see. The 
 
 [81] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 Saxon tills the soil ; the Norman robs him 
 of his rights and of the fruits of his labors. 
 The Norman cannot yield ; the Saxon will 
 not ; and yet if the dear England which I 
 love is ever to be at peace at home and 
 great abroad, these two must come together. 
 It was but last month that my husband had 
 the thumb cut off the right hand of one of 
 my Saxon serfs because he had killed a 
 stag in the forest, vowing that he should 
 never draw arrow in long bow again. And 
 yesterday a shaft was brought me, which 
 was found quivering in an oak just beyond 
 the moat, and which old Ursula tells me 
 had grazed the cap of my son who was 
 walking there with her. And Gurth, the 
 son of him who was so cruelly mutilated by 
 my husband, I doubt not shot the arrow, 
 for they say he left last night to join Robin 
 Hood in the great Sherwood Forest. And 
 so those who should live together and who, 
 once together, would make England great, 
 do nought but harm to each other — the 
 Norman proud, hasty and unjust; the 
 
 [82] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 Saxon stolid, revengeful and unwilling to 
 forget. 
 
 And yet in all my sorrows and anxieties 
 it has been given me to see a future for 
 England out of which a greatness shall 
 grow, not less because of her power than 
 because of her righteousness, and it is upon 
 the descendants of my son, Richard de 
 Bourdon, who is fourth in the line from Sir 
 Francis de Bourdon, who was himself de- 
 scended from the de Bourdons of Bayeux, 
 in Normandy, that I charge this duty, out 
 of which alone can good come now or here- 
 after, that they be true, just and merciful. 
 And upon whomsoever shall find this parch- 
 ment, written by myself — for with great 
 labor hath my confessor, the good Monk 
 Athelstan, taught me the mysteries of 
 chirography and the art of illumination — I 
 charge that they deliver it to the descend- 
 ants of my son, Richard de Bourdon, of 
 Bourdon, and that in their day and genera- 
 tion they shall remember to serve God and 
 His dear Son, and be 
 
 [83] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 True — to friendship and to God, for 
 Truth is all of this life worth the having, 
 and perfect Truth is what the Life to come 
 shall reveal to us. It is the Prince of Dark- 
 ness that is the Prince of Lies. 
 
 Be just — for the Lord has only loaned 
 us that which we have, whether of goods or 
 of talents, and in their use we must con- 
 sider the rights of all men. 
 
 Be merciful — for we shall have no 
 greater claim to the mercy we all shall finally 
 need than that we forgave our brother's 
 faults. 
 
 And this hath the Lady Robergia de 
 Bourdon herself written in the year of our 
 Lord 1210. 
 
 The reading came to an end, and with it 
 the scratching of pen on paper ceased. The 
 clock on the mantelpiece, almost at the in- 
 stant, struck midnight; but there was no 
 other sound. For fully five minutes no one 
 spoke ; and then Miss W., turning over the 
 parchment sheet, said sorrowfully, "It is as 
 
 [84] 
 
K 
 
 O 
 
 u 
 
 Q 
 < 
 W 
 
 X 
 
 a <-? 
 o - 
 
 2 I 
 
 DC 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 I feared;" and as Mr. and Mrs. Cook 
 looked, they saw that the letters at the be- 
 ginning of the manuscript had almost dis- 
 appeared, while those last uncovered in the 
 unwinding were also fast fading away. 
 
 "This is why I was in such haste to 
 secure paper and ink," said Miss W. 
 "There was, at the time this was written, 
 an ink which could be used and which was 
 permanent so long as the air did not reach 
 it. Upon exposure it almost immediately 
 lost color. The Lady Robergia evidently 
 feared this paper might be construed 
 as treasonable to the Norman conquerors 
 if found during her lifetime. In such case 
 the fading of the writing would have made 
 it useless as testimony against her to the 
 possible confiscation of her estate. As to 
 posterity, she evidently decided to take 
 chances. Fortunately, we have a correct 
 transcription, and you now have an authen- 
 tic account of the de Bourdons from the 
 time of their leaving Normandy. I need 
 not say that it is the most extraordinary 
 
 [85] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 affair with which I have ever been con- 
 nected, and I at last feel absolved from the 
 task which I certainly at the time felt had 
 been put upon me by ghostly influence. 
 But tell me," she continued, "how did you 
 get the box? " 
 
 "I think," said Mr. Cook, "that I said 
 I could not tell you, and I must leave you 
 to draw your own conclusions. I may tell 
 you, however," he said, "that someone was 
 in Borden last night, and was greatly 
 surprised to see the same light on the west 
 wall which so startled you. It was, how- 
 ever, a ray of moonlight admitted through 
 one of the lancet windows cut in the east 
 wall of the tower. You will recall that the 
 moon was almost exactly in the same posi- 
 tion yesterday as on the night you were 
 there, that being about four weeks or, to 
 be accurate, twenty-nine days ago. The 
 flickering you noticed was doubtless caused 
 by the movements of the limbs of a tree 
 which stands in the churchyard a short dis- 
 tance from the tower, and which was moved 
 
 [86] 
 
ROBERGI A 
 
 by the wind accompanying the storm, which 
 afterwards obscured the moon entirely and 
 left you and the church in darkness." 
 
 "Nevertheless," said Miss W., "there 
 was a Lady Robergia, and yourself and 
 Mrs. Cook are her descendants." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 87| 
 
Addenda 
 
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PEDIGREE OF 
 
 BORDEN OF BORDEN AND HEDCORN 
 
 County of Kent. 
 
 Compiled from Researches made and Records Copied at 
 the Instance of RICHARD Y. COOK, of 
 Philadelphia, Pa., U. S. A. 
 
 PEDIGREE OF RICHARD BORDEN, 
 
 Who removed from the Parish of Hedcorn in the County 
 
 of Kent, England, to Portsmouth, Rhode 
 
 Island, America. 
 
 I. HENRY BORDEN, of the Parish of 
 Hedcorn, County of Kent, born about the year 
 1370-1380. 
 
 He appears to have held land both in Hedcorn 
 and at Borden, and was doubtless a descendant 
 of the Bordens, of Borden. He is mentioned 
 in the will of his grandson, John Borden, of 
 Hedcorn, which will is dated 26 April, 1469, 
 recorded in the Archdeaconry of Canterbury, 
 Vol. II, folio 1, wherein his grandson, the said 
 John Borden, of Hedcorn, desires that a priest 
 sing in the Church of Hedcorn for his (the said 
 
 [91] 
 
ADDENDA 
 
 Henry Borden's) soul, and the soul of Robergia, 
 wife of the said Henry Borden, for two years. 
 
 Henry Borden, of Hedcorn, had issue by the 
 said Robergia his wife : 
 
 II. THOMAS BORDEN, of the Parish of 
 Hedcorn, County of Kent. He is mentioned 
 in the will of his son, John Borden, of Hedcorn, 
 who desires that a priest sing in the Church of 
 Hedcorn, wherein he was buried, for his soul, 
 and that of his wife, Isabella. 
 
 The Bordens acquired their land in Hedcorn 
 after 38 Hen. III. (See Extent of Hedcorn.) 
 Note that William Borden, died 1531, still held 
 land at Borden. 
 
 This Thomas Borden was without question 
 identical with Thomas Borden (or Burden), of 
 Hedcorn, who joined the Rebellion of the Ken- 
 tishmen under Jack Cade in the year 1450, and 
 who was subsequently pardoned therefor. (Pat. 
 Rolls, 28 Hen. VI, parts 2, 13, etc. Also 
 Archasologia Cantiana, Vol. VII.) 
 
 This Thomas Borden died before 26 April, 
 1469, leaving issue by Isabella, his wife : 
 
 1. John; of whom presently. 
 
 2. Henry. 
 
 3. Richard. 
 
 [92] 
 
ADDENDA 
 
 III. JOHN BORDEN, of the Parish of 
 Hedcorn, in the County of Kent. His will is 
 dated 26 April, 1469, but there is no date of 
 probate. 
 
 Will of John Borden, of Hedcorn, County 
 of Kent. 
 
 26 April, 1469.— I, John Borden, of Hed- 
 corn. 
 
 To be buried in the cemetery of the Church 
 of St. Peter & St. Paul in Hedcorn. 
 
 To each of my grandchildren (not named) 
 4d. The rest of my goods to Thomas Hovyn- 
 den, Richard Borden & John Holstrete, Execu- 
 tors. 
 
 My wife Benett (Benedict) to have the use 
 of part of my house during her widowhood. 
 
 My Executors to occupy my lands, &c, until 
 William my son attains his age of twenty. 
 
 If my son & daughters all die, then if the said 
 Richard Borden have a son he shall have all my 
 lands, &c, which were of my father (not 
 named), to hold the same to him and his heirs 
 for ever. 
 
 I will that an honest Priest sing in the Church 
 
 [93] 
 
ADDENDA 
 
 of Hedcorn for the souls of Thomas my father, 
 Isabella my mother, Henry Borden my grand- 
 father & Robergia his wife, & Thomas Saunder, 
 for 2 years; he is to be paid 20 marks. (Arch. 
 Cant., Vol. II, folio 1, Latin.) 
 
 John Borden married Benett Tornor, daughter 
 of Thomas Tornor. 
 
 Will of Benett Borden, of Hedcorn, — 
 Widow. 
 
 15 October, 1518.— I, Benett Borden, 
 widow. 
 
 To be buried in the Churchyard of Hedcorn. 
 
 To William my son, 40s. 
 
 To Joan my daughter, 40s. 
 
 To Isabella my daughter & her child, 6s. 8d. 
 
 To Robergia my daughter, 6s. 8d. 
 
 To John Borden, a calf. 
 
 To Alice Borden, 3s. 4d. 
 
 To Roger my son, the house, garden & 2 
 pieces of land I had by inheritance after the 
 death of Thomas Tornor my father. 
 
 The rest of my goods to the said Roger, 
 whom I make executor. 
 
 Peter Wothyngbroke to be overseer. 
 
 [94] 
 
ADDENDA 
 
 Witnesses: John Cornforth, Curate, Thomas 
 Batnor. 
 
 Proved 16 Nov., 1518. (Arch. Cant., Vol. 
 XIII, Section 8.) 
 
 John Borden, of Hedcorn, had issue by Benett, 
 his wife : 
 
 1. William; of whom presently. 
 
 2. Joan. 
 
 3. Isabella. 
 
 4. Robergia. 
 
 5. John. 
 
 6. Alice. 
 
 7. Roger. 
 
 IV. WILLIAM BORDEN, son of John 
 and Benett his wife, of the Parish of Hedcorn, 
 in the County of Kent. He was under age 26 
 April, 1469; died 1531. His first wife was 
 named Joan, and his second Thomasin, and they 
 were both buried within the Church of Hedcorn. 
 His third wife, named Rose, survived him. 
 
 Will of William Borden, of Hedcorn. 
 
 11 February, 1531.— I, William Borden, of 
 Hedcorn. 
 
 To be buried within the Church of Our Lady 
 between my 2 wives Joan and Thomasin. 
 
 [95] 
 
ADDENDA 
 
 To Elizabeth my daughter, a standing 
 "Nutte" with silver & gilt & a cover. 
 
 To Anne my daughter, £2Q. 
 
 Walter Hendeley, gent ; William Lynche & 
 Nicholas Batnor to be Executors, & Sir Edward 
 Wotten, Knight, Overseer. 
 
 To Katherine my daughter, my messuage, 2 
 gardens, a forstall, 3 pieces of land formerly 
 called Southlands, & 2 pieces of land called Ryng- 
 sell, purchased of Sir William Ketlesden, for- 
 merly Vicar of Hedcorn ; for default of heirs to 
 the said Katherine, the same to remain to my 
 son Thomas & his heirs for ever. 
 
 The feoffees to let to farm my 2 meadows 
 lying to the church bridge upon the den of Cro- 
 thenden the which by stryken out of a pair of 
 indentures between Edward Borden & me, & 
 the profits thereof to be given in deeds of charity. 
 
 I will that Edward Borden my son hold him- 
 self content with my tenement of Borden with 
 100 acres of land & meadow & my tenement at 
 Wike, with such lands as he holds of me by 
 indenture under a "false pretence of marriage 
 of Johane daughter of John Aleyn, Baron of the 
 Exchequer." 
 
 [96] 
 
ADDENDA 
 
 I will that Rose my wife occupy my principal 
 messuage Horcheyard Podsole, a tenement & 
 piece of land called Borowfyld, she keeping 
 Thomas and Anne my children. 
 
 My feoffees to let 2 pieces of land called Ketes 
 & Somerlese with all my other lands lying on the 
 north side of the street leading from Hedcorn to 
 Levenham, &c, &c, until my son Thomas attain 
 the age of 24 years. 
 
 To the said Thomas I give a piece of land 
 containing 10 acres called Pikesfelde, "lying to 
 the hall dore of his brother Edward's hall dore." 
 Proved 25 Sept., 1531. (Arch. Cant., Vol. 
 XIX, Section, 10.) 
 
 Children of William Borden, of Hedcorn: 
 
 1. Edmund; of whom presently. He is not men- 
 tioned in will and was, therefore, eldest son. 
 English wills of this date rarely mention the 
 eldest son and heir, who inherited by entail, 
 
 ., according to Act of Parliament. The System 
 
 of Gavel Kind was of course practiced to a 
 great extent in Kent, but in this case it 
 appears that the descendants of this Edmund 
 Borden held the lands formerly belonging to 
 William Borden, father of this Edmund, and 
 to John, his grandfather. The evidence of 
 descent is therefore clear and complete. 
 
 2. Edward. 
 
 3. Thomas. 
 
 [97] 
 
ADDENDA 
 
 4. Elizabeth. 
 
 5. Anne. 
 
 6. Katherine. 
 
 V. EDMUND BORDEN, of the Parish of 
 Hedcorn, in the County of Kent, son of William, 
 born about the year 1485; died in the same 
 Parish about the month of June, 1539. He mar- 
 ried Margaret . 
 
 Will of Edmund Borden, of Hedcorn. 
 
 Dated 13 April, 30 Hen. 8 (1539).— "I, 
 Edmund Borden, of Hedcorn, in the Shire of 
 Kent." 
 
 To be buried in the churchyard of Hedcorn. 
 
 To my daughters Joan & Maryon, £5 each. 
 
 To my daughters Margaret, Alice & Julian, 
 ,£5 each at their ages of 20 years. 
 
 To Margaret, my wife, 3 kine, etc. 
 
 The residue of my goods to Edward, John & 
 William, my sons. 
 
 If my wife have a "woman chylde " then I 
 give to the said child £5. 
 
 I make Thomas Madocke & John Phylyke, 
 executors. 
 
 Witnesses : John Lytle, Edward Newenden, 
 Thomas Wood. 
 
 [98] 
 
ADDENDA 
 
 Proved, 18 June, 1539. (Archdeaconry of 
 Canterbury, Vol. XXI, Section 9.) 
 
 Children of Edmund 'Borden and Margaret his Wife: 
 
 1. 
 
 Edward. 
 
 2. 
 3. 
 
 4. 
 
 John. 
 
 William; of whom presently. 
 
 Joan. 
 
 5. 
 6. 
 7. 
 
 Maryon. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Alice. 
 
 8. 
 
 Julian. 
 
 VI. WILLIAM BORDEN , son of Edmund 
 and Margaret, of Hedcorn, was born in that 
 Parish circa 1520(15?); died there about the 
 month of June, 1557. He married Joan . 
 
 Will of William Borden (Burden), of 
 Hedcorn. 
 
 (No date.) To Joan, my wife, £20, &c. 
 
 To my sons, Thomas & Edward, £10 each ; 
 to my son John £6, & to my son Stephen .£10. 
 
 To Elizabeth, my daughter, £3.6.8; to my 
 daughter Thomesyn a cow; to my daughter 
 Anne a cow. 
 
 To Edmond, my son, a cow. 
 
 My wife Joan & son Edward to be Executors. 
 
 [99] 
 
 
ADDENDA 
 
 The residue of my goods I give to my said 
 wife & sons. 
 
 Witnesses: John Kippinge, Nicholas Borden 
 & Nicholas Hammersham. 
 
 Proved 8 June, 1557. (Archdeaconry of Cant., 
 Vol. XXX, Section 3.) 
 
 Children of William Borden and Joan his Wife: 
 
 1. Thomas; of whom presently. 
 
 2. Edward (Edmund) , of Hedcorn Parish, County 
 of Kent. His will in abstract is as follows: 
 28 January, 1559. "I, Edward Borden, of 
 
 Hedcorn. 
 
 "Margaret, my wife, to be executrix. 
 
 "To Stephen Borden my brother ^"17.6.0, 
 given to him by my father (not named). 
 
 "To my mother (not named) 20s. 
 
 "To Thomas & Edward (Edmund) Bor- 
 den, my brothers, 20s. each. 
 
 "To John Borden (no relationship given), 
 20s. 
 
 "To my sisters, Thomasin, Agnes & Eliza- 
 beth, 10s. each." 
 
 Legacies to John, Thomas & Christopher 
 Batnor, & to Alice Warner. 
 
 Witnesses: John Kyppyn, Nicholas Boodes 
 & Nicholas Homersham. (See his father's 
 will.) Proved 26 March, 1560. (Arch. 
 Cant., Vol. XXXIV, Section 5.) 
 
 3. John (doubtless the John Borden mentioned 
 in will of Edward, his brother, but relation- 
 ship not there set forth.) 
 
 4. Edmund (Edward). 
 
 [100] 
 
ADDENDA 
 
 5. Stephen; named in will of his brothers Edward 
 and Thomas Borden, but not in will of his 
 father. 
 
 6. Elizabeth; she was living 1592, and named in 
 will of her brother Thomas (which see) . 
 
 7. Agnes; named in will of her brother Edward. 
 
 8. Thomasin ; named in will of her brother 
 Edward. 
 
 VII. THOMAS BORDEN, born in the 
 Parish of Hedcorn, County Kent, circa 1540 ; 
 died there about the month of April, 1592. He 
 was buried in Hedcorn Church 21 April, 1592. 
 His wife's name is not known, but she was buried 
 in Hedcorn Church, 20 May, 1581. He appears 
 to have married, 2dly, Margaret Reader (1583), 
 who was buried 25 Sept., 1589. She was daugh- 
 ter of the Vicar of the Church of St. Peter and 
 St. Paul at Hedcorn. 
 
 Will of Thomas Borden, of Hedcorn, 
 County Kent, Yeoman. 
 
 I, Thomas Borden, of Hedcorn, in County 
 Kent, yeoman. 
 
 To be buried in the Churchyard of Hedcorn. 
 
 To my daughter Agnes, wife of Jonas Gor- 
 ham, ;£10, &c. 
 
 To my brother Stephen Borden, .£4. 
 
 [101] 
 
ADDENDA 
 
 To my sister Elizabeth Borden, £\.. 
 
 The rest of my goods to my son Mathew 
 Borden, whom I make Executor. 
 
 Witnesses: John Fotherbie & Edward Meles, 
 Thomas Travant. 
 
 Proved 26 April, 1592. " The hand mark of 
 Thomas Borden." (Arch. Cant., Vol. XLVIII, 
 folio 279.) 
 
 Children of Thomas Borden and his wife: 
 
 1. Mathew; of whom presently. 
 
 2. Thomas; buried at Hedcorn Church, 30 April, 
 1580. 
 
 3. Joan; buried at Hedcorn Church, 5 April, 
 1571. 
 
 4. Agnes; married Jonas Gorham, 2 Aug., 1585. 
 
 VIII. MATHEW BORDEN, son of 
 
 Thomas, born in the Parish of Hedcorn, County 
 Kent. He died there about the month of Oc- 
 tober, 1620. He married Joan . He was 
 
 Churchwarden of Hedcorn, 1598. (There was 
 another Mathew, Churchwarden earlier, perhaps 
 an uncle.) 
 
 Will of Mathew Borden, of Hedcorn, 
 County Kent, Yeoman. 
 
 26 September, 1620. I, Mathew Borden, 
 of Hedcorn, in County Kent, Yeoman. 
 
 [102] 
 
ADDENDA 
 
 To Joane, my wife, beds, &c. ; also ,£8 yearly 
 out of my farm called Sim Hamdens in the Parish 
 of Smarden in Co. Kent, till my son John attain 
 the age of 21 ; also the rent of my houses in 
 Hedcorn ; also of my farm called Grinnett in 
 Hedcorn ; also the rent of my tenement wherein 
 Roger Jones dwells until my son Edward attain 
 the age of 21. 
 
 To my daughter Amye Borden, /60 at her 
 age of 20. 
 
 To my daughter Mary, wife of John Rowe, 
 ^16. 
 
 To my son Richard, my 2 houses & land 
 thereto belonging in Hedcorn, to hold to him 
 and his heirs forever. 
 
 To my son William, ;£40; also a house & 
 land at Smarden. 
 
 My sons Richard & William to be Executors. 
 
 Thomas Samson, of Cranbroke, to be Super- 
 visor. 
 
 Proved 27 October, 1620. (Arch. Cant., 
 Book 63 [Hall], folio 134.) 
 
 Children of Matheiv Borden and Joan his Wife: 
 1. Mary, married, 4 May, 1620, John Roe 
 (Rowe). 
 
 [103] 
 
ADDENDA 
 
 2. Joan, bapt. 29 April, 1593; buried 11 June, 
 1593. 
 
 3. John, bapt. 28 April, 1594. 
 
 4. Richard, bapt. 22 February, 1595/6; married 
 28 September, 1625, Jane Fowle. Removed 
 to New England, where he died. 
 
 5. William, bapt. 1 June, 1600. 
 
 6. Amie, bapt. 26 April, 1603. 
 
 7. Edward, bapt. 14 April, 1605. 
 
 8. John, bapt. 22 February, 1606/7. 
 
 Register of Hedcorn Parish Church. 
 
 Children of Richard Borden "Baptized in England. 
 {Hedcorn Regtr.) 
 
 Richard, bapt. 9 July, 1626. 
 Thomas, bapt. 3 October, 1627. 
 
 [104] 
 
Descriptive Notes 
 
DESCRIPTIVE NOTES. 
 
 NOTB A. 
 This ancient and memorable oak, one of the 
 largest in England, is doubtless the last remain- 
 ing scion of the old forest of Andred, or Ander- 
 ida, which, in Roman and Saxon times, extend',] 
 some sixty miles in length and twenty to forty 
 in breadth, and covered the whole of the weal- 
 den of the counties of Kent, Surrey and Sussex. 
 Its trunk is some 45 feet in circumference at 
 6 feet above the soil, and its partly dead and 
 hollow brani hes protruding from its still leafy 
 center in every direction, with the open, hollow 
 heart and! almost rocky appearance on the south 
 side, give an impression of vast age and antiquity 
 to this solitary tree. Its genus, botanically, is 
 undoubtedly the indigenous old English oak, 
 Quercus robur, with acorns and footstalks 
 longer than those of the other variety known as 
 Quercus sessi folia. Also this kind of oak is 
 much longer lived and its timber more lasting 
 
 [107] 
 
NOTES 
 
 than any other. This fact, no doubt, accounts 
 for its present existence. Lord Brabourne, in 
 one of his entertaining books, written for young 
 people, " The Witches of Headcorn," has dubbed 
 it " St. Dunstan's Oak," but wherefore is not 
 known, although Dunstan of Satanic renown 
 was no doubt a denizen of the weald, that 
 country of deep clays, grass and wheat. Finally, 
 its twisted and knarly trunk and branches and 
 horizontal boughs give an impression of sover- 
 eignty and dignity, although decayed. Says 
 Spenser: 
 
 "... dry and dead, 
 Still clad with reliques of its trophies old, 
 
 Lifting to heaven its aged, hoary head, 
 Whose foot on earth hath got but feeble hold. ..." 
 
 Note B. 
 Church of St. Peter and St. Paul, Borden, Kent. 
 This ancient Norman church is built of flint 
 with quoins of stone. It has a nave with north 
 and south aisles, a chancel, west tower and 
 south porch, a tiled roof with a parapet on the 
 south part. The walls are buttressed with stone 
 and flint. Against the south wall is a sun-dial, 
 on which are these words : 
 
 [108] 
 
NOTES 
 
 " Fast flies the hour, fast flies the day, 
 And quickly measures life away." 
 
 The tower is of flint, without buttresses, and 
 is lighted in the upper portion with two lights. 
 It has a beautiful west doorway of late Norman 
 date, with soffit of three cylindrical roll mould- 
 ings ; also a fine perpendicular window westward, 
 with stained glass, and in the basement are two 
 deeply splayed Norman windows also in the west 
 portion. The south doorway of the church 
 has good mouldings and a hood. The porch is 
 of flint with two windows with trefoiled single 
 lights. The nave has a plastered roof carried on 
 the beams. The piers are massive and have 
 inverted impost mouldings with shafts in the 
 angles. The south aisle has a flat roof on beams 
 lying on stone brackets, with two perpendicular 
 windows. The eastern part of this aisle has a 
 boarded roof with massive moulded arched ribs. 
 This portion is lighted by two decorated and one 
 perpendicular windows, with also one lancet. 
 There is a tablet to Robert Plot, LL.D., the 
 historian of Oxford and Staffordshire, on which 
 is a winged warrior sculptured, holding a spear 
 of wood tipped with iron. He is treading on 
 
 [109] 
 
NOTES 
 
 what is probably a representation of the Devil, 
 who has wings, a bull's head and human arms. 
 The north aisle has a flattened roof and is lighted 
 by four good windows. The font is new, but 
 there is the bowl of an old unused one with five 
 plain faces, while on the sixth face are the letters 
 'B. D." and a curious sculptured design. 
 (Tradition has it that these letters stand for 
 " Bor-Den.") Both aisles extend as far eastward 
 as the chancel. 
 
 It has a stone reredos with arches supported 
 by small marble shafts. There is a curious 
 ancient piscina. The stone pulpit has two 
 arches on shafts with floriated capitals, on which 
 are figures of SS. Peter and Paul, to whom the 
 church is dedicated (as is also that of Head- 
 corn). There is a peal of eight bells. The 
 registers date from 1555, and there is a fine ser- 
 vice of old communion plate. 
 
 Note C. 
 
 Headcorn, in the weald of Kent, is situated in 
 what is now Mid Kent, but a portion is in the 
 division of East Kent. It is nine miles from the 
 county town of Maidstone and forty-five from 
 
 [110] 
 
NOTES 
 
 London. Anciently, it was written Hedecrune, 
 Hedycron, Hedecrone and Hedcron. Philipot, 
 in 1659, says it was " a place famous for the best 
 and chief corn and largest poultry ; " and Harris, 
 who published his "History of Kent" in 1719, 
 says it was "a place where corn was heedfully 
 sown." A third and better explanation of the 
 derivation of its name might be given. " Heda," 
 or " Hede," was a name not uncommon among 
 the Danes, of whom many we know settled in 
 England, and the affix " cron " signifying a place ; 
 i. e., Hede's cron, or dwelling. Cron is common 
 in the North of Europe, as Cronheim, Cronberg, 
 Cronstadt, Carlscrona, etc. This certainly ex- 
 plains its name, and we find it called " Hede- 
 cron " in the time of Henry VI (1450) . It was 
 not mentioned in "Domesday Book" (1086), 
 nor were many others, as Biddenden, Tenterden, 
 etc. After the conquest the weald became 
 apportioned out to different manors and religious 
 houses, and from a wild forest gradually became 
 cleared and more or less cultivated. Furley, in 
 his "Annals of Headcorn," says: " This seques- 
 tered spot remained nameless asaville, hamlet or 
 dene, as far as I have been able to discover even 
 
 [111] 
 
NOTES 
 
 at the times of the Norman Conquest." On 
 Hundred Roll of 1273 under Hundred of Eyborne, 
 we find "The Dene of Hedycrone with the 
 advowson of the church of the same was the 
 demesne of the King Henry, father of the pres- 
 ent King, who gave them to his hospital of 
 Ospringe in perpetual alms." The denes, or in 
 Saxon denherd, were swine pastures in the weald 
 granted as appurtenances of different manors, 
 etc., as before stated. 
 
 Note D. 
 
 This view gives a fair idea of the appearance 
 of the village street when viewed from the sum- 
 mit of the church tower looking eastward. It 
 has excellent roads with good water and a com- 
 plete system of drainage, now (1904) being in- 
 augurated. The churchyard is well filled with 
 memorials of those who have passed away. The 
 River Beult winds through its meadows to the 
 right of the view, while to the left rises the mill 
 bank, with its old windmills and the road to 
 Maidstone, which passes over it. At the farther 
 end of the street eastward is the railway station 
 on the direct Southeastern Continental Line by 
 
 [112] 
 
NOTES 
 
 which ingress and egress are now easy. The 
 ancient Cloth Hall of fine oaken timber still 
 stands, and is a good dwelling-house. 
 
 Note E. 
 
 This fine old church, built of Kentish rag and 
 Bethersden marble, and dedicated to SS. Peter 
 and Paul, with its ancient oak adjoining, is of 
 great interest to the archaeologist and lover of 
 natural history. Hussey, who wrote in 1852, 
 thus described it: "A church of nave and chan- 
 cel ; vestry on north side of the same, with south 
 aisle and chancel ; south porch with a parvise 
 and square west tower, with battlements and 
 staircase. The aisle also has battlements and a 
 stair turret. The building is generally perpen- 
 dicular, though possibly the walls may be earlier. 
 There are many imperfect remains of colored 
 glass. Font perpendicular octagon, with angels, 
 etc., on the sides; some portions of a fine per- 
 pendicular screen are preserved," etc. 
 
 " There is," says Sir S. Glynne, in his " Notes 
 on Churches of Kent," "beneath one of the 
 south windows a fine perpendicular tomb in the 
 wall (probably one of the Colepepers) rising 
 
 [113] 
 
NOTES 
 
 above the window-sill, and having an embattled 
 cornice." Weever, in 1631, says: "The Church 
 of Headcorn was founded by one of the Colepep- 
 pers, who (says Harris, 1719) were lords of the 
 manor." This is corroborated by Hasted. In 
 the Lady Chapel, which was doubtless part of a 
 more ancient church, is an ancient piscina and 
 a tomb which would appear from his will 
 (A. D. 1531) to have been the burial place of 
 William Borden, between his wives Joan and 
 Thomasine, from which, as in many other cases, 
 the brass has been removed. There is clear 
 evidence that a church existed at Headcorn in 
 24th Henry III, A. D. 1239, and that its patron- 
 age was in the hands of the Crown, who gave it 
 to the Hospital of St. Mary at Ospringe. In 
 the taxation of Pope Nicholas, A. D. 1291, a 
 crusade levy was made, when the vicarage of 
 De Hedecrone was returned as under the See of 
 Canterbury. These are, we may take, sufficient 
 evidences of the age of a church at this place. 
 No doubt the most early existent portion is that 
 of the chancel and Lady Chapel, the nave, tower 
 and south aisle having since been added, and 
 their erection must have been about A. D. 1430. 
 
 '[114] 
 
NOTES 
 
 The junction of the two buildings is plainly to 
 be seen, when looking from the tower on the 
 roof below, the splay of the roof and eastern 
 direction of same showing the difference. This 
 must have been during the life of Thomas Bur- 
 den, yeoman, participant with Cade and Culpep- 
 per in the rebellion of that time, and who after- 
 wards received pardon. (See State papers, 
 Henry VI, Arch. Cant., Vol. VII.) The oak 
 must then have been a tree in full vigor of growth. 
 
 Note F. 
 
 The nave of the church, with its exceedingly 
 fine old oak roof, which is without doubt the 
 same erected about A. D. 1430, and still in an 
 admirable state of preservation, and a complete 
 specimen of the almost everlasting kind of tim- 
 ber which is furnished by the native oak, Quer- 
 cus robur. The arch between it and the 
 chancel, not in line with the same, shows plainly 
 the junction of the then new portion of the 
 church with the old. The pillars dividing this 
 from the south aisle are of part Kentish rag-stone 
 and partly of Bethersden marble, a kind of stone 
 peculiar to the wealden of Kent, and when 
 
 [115] 
 
NOTES 
 
 polished resembling Purbeck stone. There are 
 still remains of stained glass of an early date in 
 the north windows and in the west windows of 
 the tower, which are beautiful specimens of 
 the architecture of the time. Philipot, 1610, 
 says it contained on a tabard the Arms of Kel- 
 sham. This Kelsham was a gentleman of Hed- 
 cron, who received a free pardon for participation 
 in Cade's rebellion with Thomas Burden in 
 1450. (See State papers, Henry VI (1450) and 
 Cant., Vol. VII.) Richard Borden was married 
 at the altar in the church here shown to Joan 
 Fowle, September 28, 1625. (See Headcorn 
 Registers.) 
 
 Note G. 
 
 The Lady Chapel of Headcorn Church is 
 doubtless one of its most interesting portions. 
 Among the Patent Rolls in the Public Record 
 Office is the license from Edward IV (6 Ed. 4, 
 A. D. 1466) to Master Thomas Kent, cleric, and 
 to Robert Kent, proctor, to found a perpetual 
 chantry to celebrate Divine offices every day at 
 the altar of the Blessed Mary in the Parish 
 Church of Hedecrone, etc., etc., for the souls of 
 the wives and parents of the said Thomas and 
 
 [116] 
 
NOTES 
 
 Robert, etc., and other pious uses. The chantry 
 to be called " Kentys Chaunteraye " and the 
 chaplain to be a worthy man. Here the officiat- 
 ing priest sang daily Mass and prayed for the 
 souls of the founders and others. Thus John 
 Borden, in his will, dated A. D. 1469, says: " I 
 will that an honest priest do sing in the church 
 of Headcorn for the souls of my father Thomas 
 and his wife Isabella, and of my grandfather 
 Henry and his wife Robergia, and Thomas San- 
 ders, for which I give 20 marks." There also, 
 in A. D. 1531, was buried William Borden be- 
 tween Joan and Thomasine, his wives. The 
 mortuary stone of Bethersden marble covered 
 by the seats is still there, but the brass has been 
 removed in common with others. William Bor- 
 den's funeral must have been in those old 
 Catholic days quite an event — the robed officiat- 
 ing priests winding through the churchyard and 
 under the shadow of the gigantic oak, then in its 
 prime. The entry into the church, the chanting 
 of the priests and its solemn service were impress- 
 ive pictures of the times. 
 
 [117] 
 
NOTES 
 
 Note H. 
 This shows the south aisle of the church with 
 the arch leading into the chantry and Lady 
 Chapel and the tomb of Thomas Colepepper 
 under the window next the arch. The font is 
 very old, and is thought by some to be of greater 
 age than the church. It is a perpendicular 
 octagon, with angels and scrolls on the sides. 
 Here were baptized many generations of dwellers 
 in Headcorn, and certainly all the Bordens in 
 continuation from Henry, A.D. 1370, to Richard, 
 A. D. 1595, first of that name in the new world. 
 Here also were baptized Richard, his son, A. D. 
 1626, and Thomas, A. D. 1627, future fathers of 
 the many Bordens and Burdens of America. 
 With an imagination in tune with the surround- 
 ings, what scenes might be conjured belonging 
 to those past ages ! 
 
 Note I. 
 
 This house, at the northeast corner of the 
 churchyard and on the street leading towards 
 Maidstone, is in its character an early example 
 of the timbered house of about A. D. 1400, of 
 which there are many specimens in the weald 
 
 [118] 
 
NOTES 
 
 of Kent. The timbers are still in good preser- 
 vation and of bony hardness, while its roof 
 inside, thick-raftered, with great kingposts and 
 overhanging eaves, shows it to have been for- 
 merly a building of importance. A fine stone chim- 
 ney and chimney-piece stood formerly where the 
 shop front now is, and several arched windows, 
 stopped, are still to be found beneath the plaster 
 in the walls. There are remains of an ancient 
 garden wall of great blocks of Bethersden marble 
 to the north of the premises, which show it to 
 have been a house of importance in its day. A 
 careful perusal of the will of William Borden 
 (1531) establishes this as his residence of " Horch- 
 ard Podsole," as the lands adjoining fit the de- 
 scriptions there given. It is now in various 
 tenements, and is owned by a descendant* of 
 the family, by purchase some years since. 
 
 William Borden took the position of yeoman, 
 and his friendship with Sir William Wotten, who 
 lived at Boughton Place, only four miles distant, 
 and who was one of the Privy Councillors of 
 Henry VIII, has, as a matter of record, come 
 down to this day. 
 
 * Thomas Witherden Burden, Esq. 
 
 [119] 
 
NOTES 
 
 Note J. 
 
 This old tenement of British oak timber and 
 plaster is doubtless of ancient date, and was 
 originally the residence of the vicars of Head- 
 corn, or, in some cases, of the officiating curate. 
 Its date may be safely placed at about the year 
 A. D. 1400, or a little prior to the age of the 
 tower and aisles and nave of the existing church, 
 which would probably be A. D. 1430. William 
 Kettelsden, afterwards Sir William Kettelsden, 
 lived in this house in 1507, and he sold it to 
 William Borden, of Horchyard Podsole, in Head- 
 corn. In 1595, when Richard Borden was 
 baptized, the incumbent was Robert Reader, 
 whose relative, Margaret Reader, married, as his 
 second wife, Thomas Borden in May, 1583. 
 She was, therefore, stepmother to Matthew Bor- 
 den, who was, by the registers of Headcorn, 
 Churchwarden of Headcorn in 1595, and the 
 father of Richard. 
 
 The entrance to the house is still by a heavy 
 antique oaken door, thickly studded with large, 
 square-headed nails. This opens into a wide 
 passage, extending through from front to back. 
 On the right side are two rooms — one formerly 
 
 [120] 
 
NOTES 
 
 used as a small sitting-room, and the other as 
 the larder, or, as then called, the buttery. On 
 the left of the passage another arched door led 
 into the daily living-room of the family, with its 
 large chimney-corners and open hearth, where 
 logs burned bright in winter. Past the chimney 
 was a passage leading to the study or receiving- 
 room of the resident. The bedrooms over were 
 floored with oak boards, while the ceilings, both 
 above and below, were of great square beams and 
 uprights. This style of dwelling, with variations, 
 was the general type of the time. The house 
 is still inhabited (1904) by the clerk of the 
 parish. With regard to the word " buttery " 
 used here for larder, it was common to the 
 houses of the gentry of the period, as well as of 
 those of less degree ; vide the old Elizabethan 
 ballad of the old and young courtier, where it 
 says: 
 
 " An old buttery hatch worn quite off its hooks 
 
 And a kitchen that maintained half a dozen old cooks." 
 
 [121] 
 
RD2ti 
 
DOBBS BROS. 
 
 LIBMAMY .INOINO 
 
 S-TAUGUSTINE 
 
 FLA. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■