During the late civil war King Charles lost his head. My father a merchant venturer lost all that he was possessed of and plunged deep into debt, he now languishes in Southwark debtors' prison, dependent upon the charity of friends and relations for his bread. My younger brother and sister were taken in by my kindly Uncle George and Aunty Mary. My mother was sold for 10 shillings as a bonded labourer, to a farmer who lives near High Wycombe, I, because I had been to day school and am able to read and write, fetched 12 shillings. I had hoped that I might be sold to a printer in London, instead, I was sold to a Miller who has a windmill close to Beaconsfield why, I don't know, there were others bigger and stronger than me and they only fetched a few shillings each. Until the carrier took us up to High Wycombe, we stayed in Uncle George's already overcrowded house...