Shrouded in mystery, this lady's
life is a tapestry woven from intrigue, power, and enigmatic connections.
Born in 1612 to a Scottish official and his Antwerp-born wife,
her early years were marked by upheaval and transformation.
Her father’s sudden death after accompanying James
I to Scotland in 1617 set in motion a series of events that would define Jane
and her sisters' destiny.
Her mother's remarriage to the influential Scots courtier James
Maxwell positioned the family within the web of court politics.
Her stepfather's wealth and cunning manoeuvring
helped guide her and her sisters
Anne, Elizabeth, and Diana into strategic, albeit not always joyful, marriages.
Yet her marriage to Brome Whorwood, the heir to Holton Park, Oxford,
was an ominously disastrous affair in 1634, filled with foreboding signs.
Her sisters, too, were wedded to influential figures,
intertwining their fates with nobility and power.
And among her four children, only two, Brome Jr.
and Diana, would live to adulthood.
So join me now as we look at the incredible life of Jane Whorwood.
In the turbulent year of 1642, as the royal court took refuge in Oxford
following the declaration of war against Parliament
and the fierce battle at Edgehill, Jane Whorwood's life took a dramatic turn.
While her father and Hamilton's brother-in-law defected to Scotland,
she remained staunchly loyal to the King's cause.
Her choice was not passive; she became an active and vital player
in the royalist struggle.
Leveraging her father's merchant contacts from London,
Jane orchestrated the audacious smuggling of at least 775 kilos of gold
into Oxford from London, a journey fraught with danger over 50 miles.
Her connections with the royal laundress, who had the unique license
to transport goods to the court garrison, facilitated her smuggling endeavours.
Even the King's fresh
hosiery was surreptitiously delivered through her network.
Yet, Jane was not alone in her efforts; the daring actions of other lady agents,
including the retrieval of the royal crown, set a courageous precedent
during those turbulent times.
Jane's activities went beyond smuggling;
she is believed to have been a carrier of intelligence between the royal garrison
and allies.
Old friends who had become refugees, rumoured liaisons with a baronet,
and securing lucrative posts for supporters
painted a portrait of a woman deeply entwined
in the political machinations of the time.
Her commitment to the royal cause was such
that she may have neglected her children, a point made bitterly clear
when her mother-in-law excluded her from her will.
The enigmatic figure of Jane Whorwood looms large during the siege of Oxford,
even appearing at Holton House, General Fairfax’s quarter, for a significant
wedding amidst the chaos of war.
In the shadowed days of April 1646, the King made a desperate escape
from Oxford, leaving the beleaguered city for the sanctuary of the Scots army.
Though they were allied with Parliament,
he chose them as his protectors, perhaps seeking kinship among fellow Scots.
From Newark to Newcastle, his confinement became a complex negotiation
between his captors and Westminster.
Amidst this, figures once loyal, including Jane's
stepfather and brother-in-law, uncomfortably shifted allegiances.
Jane, however, remained steadfast, tracking the King's progress like a shadow
from Newcastle to the royal halls of Hampton Court.
Her metaphorical description of the King as ‘a bird in a gilded cage’
painted a vivid image of his predicament, caught between Parliament and the Army.
But Jane was more than a passive observer; she was a force unto herself.
Mockingly referred to as the ‘real Chairwoman’ by a royalist,
she defrauded Parliament's revenue committee, corrupted its chair,
and orchestrated a web of intelligence that spread from London to Edinburgh.
Her alliances were complex, including the enigmatic state astrologer William Lilly,
whose allegiances eventually proved fickle.
When the King, fearing for his life, fled to the Isle of Wight, Jane's role
grew even more vital.
She became his lifeline, running an intricate correspondence network
and planning his escape.
Not once, but twice she tried her second attempt
leaving her in peril for five weeks as she waited for the King amid mutiny
and rebellion.
Ultimately, both escape attempts failed, and the King remained trapped.
Yet Jane's unwavering loyalty did not go unnoticed.
The Marquis of Hertford’s tribute to her
resounded with a painful truth: ‘Had everyone played their parts like Whorwood,
the King would now be free.’
In the uneasy days of August,
the King was momentarily freed from his shackles,
and granted parole to engage in surreal peace
negotiations with Parliament, a gesture excluding the Army's involvement.
Meanwhile, the southern shires were ablaze with royalist revolt,
and Scotland was the launching pad for an invasion
led by the Hamilton brothers, one of whom was Jane's brother-in-law.
Within the confines of his chamber,
the King's relationship with Jane took a more intimate turn.
He beckoned her to his side no sooner had he been granted parole.
Not once, but possibly twice in a few nights,
their liaisons were shrouded in secrecy and intrigue.
Jane's role had now expanded to a high-stakes dance
between Wight and London,
weaving through intelligence and the Army's veiled intentions.
November's chill brought a sense of urgency, compelling
Jane to sprint to London to confirm whispers of the King's impending arrest.
A letter, laden with desperation and demand, was sent to Charles,
urging him to flee.
In a time where emotions were heavily guarded,
the neo-royalists have sought to erase traces of explicit intimacy
from their correspondence.
But the King's failure to escape sealed his fate,
leading him to the scaffold at Whitehall in January 1649.
A transformation occurred in death.
Charles became an emblem of martyrdom;
his execution was likened to the crucifixion of Jesus Christ.
Jane was cast as the Scot’s Veronica, rushing to comfort Charles on his final
journey across St James' Park.
While some contemporary historians embrace this portrayal,
it bears the marks of a myth, crafted perhaps by neo-royalists
to counter scandalous rumours circulated in the press of 1649.
Yet, the veil of time has been lifted to reveal an undeniable truth:
Jane was in close contact with the King less than 48 hours before his execution.
This confirmation adds a new dimension to a complex tale,
spotlighting Jane's unwavering loyalty and hinting at an emotional connection
that transcended mere political allegiance.
In the turbulent years following Charles, I’s execution, his son,
Charles II, was crowned King of Scotland, but England eluded his grasp.
His invasion from Scotland was thwarted,
culminating in a failed and bloody battle at Worcester,
a defeat that cost the life of Jane’s brother-in-law, the new Duke of Hamilton.
And despite the best efforts of Cromwell’s surgeon, Hamilton
succumbed to his wounds.
Jane’s path led her back to Holton Park, a return marked not by triumph
but by the shadow of a hostile mother-in-law
and an even more resentful husband, Brome Whorwood.
Brome, who had spent the war as a voluntary exile in France,
became an MP in 1661.
His marriage to Jane unravelled, torn apart by his violent madness.
They separated, and Jane was granted alimony,
only a fraction of which Brome ever paid, despite commands from the Crown,
the Lord Chancellor, and even the Archbishop of Canterbury.
Their saga is preserved in the annals of history,
captured in Lambeth Palace and State Papers.
It is a tale of violence, injuries,
defiance, and Jane's relentless battle for her rights until her dying breath.
Brome’s cruelty
left scars beyond the physical, as he took up with a servant
and demanded a twisted three-way relationship.
But Jane fought back,
defying even the judgment of Charles II and challenging lackadaisical bishops.
Her determination led her to the Bar of The Commons,
and she battled Brome repeatedly in the Chancery.
In the village of Holton, her story found resonance
among the neighbours and staff, who sided with her.
The echoes of violence at the House
continued to haunt the community well into the 19th century,
a vivid folk memory within a closed society.
Jane’s later years were spent in London,
a period marked by separation from 1659 to 1684.
Her son Brome embarked on a refined version of the aristocratic Grand Tour
during the Cromwell republic,
only to meet
a tragic end, drowning in the Solent while attempting to sail to the Isle of Wight.
Jane's daughter Diana inherited Holton House
but died childless, and with her,
Jane's bloodline flickered and vanished as the family
name descended through her husband's illegitimate son.
Jane Whorwood's final chapter closed in 1684, months after her husband's death.
They were laid to rest in the chancel of Holton church,
sharing in death proximity they had never known in life.
Even the housekeeper, a character in their troubled
tale, found her place in the same sacred ground a decade later.
Jane's legacy is complex, marked by considerable courage
and an undying commitment to a cause that may seem threadbare to some.
The price she paid for her bravery was dear,
exacted in fear, deteriorating health, and fractured relationships.
Tragically, by 1660, the relentless domestic violence and the stresses
of her political endeavours might have unbalanced her mind.
In a heart-rending letter, her mother called her “my ill daughter.”
At the Restoration, Jane received no reward,
her efforts overshadowed by louder men who exaggerated their roles.
Many of them were collaborators during the tumultuous years of 1642-49.
Unlike other heroines in Stuart's history, like Jane Lane and Flora McDonald,
Jane's cause failed.
This disappointment rippled through her personal life,
leading to bitter fallouts with her in-laws, husband, and sisters.
They predeceased her and, in a gesture of cold rejection,
excluded her from their wills and the courtesy naming of their daughters.
A spy or smuggler's
life is isolated, often leaving behind few friends and even fewer records.
Neo-royalists, uncomfortable with Jane's closeness to the “martyr-king,”
have further obscured her legacy.
However, Jane Whorwood’s story is one of undaunted courage,
passion, and a relentless pursuit of her beliefs.
Yet it's a story tinged with tragedy, marked by failure, betrayal, and a legacy
that has been overshadowed and manipulated.
Her life, a stirring tale of a woman caught in the whirlwind of history,
continues to intrigue and inspire,
a poignant testament to the complexities of loyalty, love, and the human spirit.
And though clouded by time and revision, her essence lingers on, a haunting
and compelling figure from an era wrought with conflict and transformation.