THE RISING IN LINCOLNSHIRE
“How presumptuous then are ye, the rude commons of one shire, and that
one of the most brute and beastly of the whole realm ... to find fault
with your Prince?”[407]
So wrote Henry VIII to the men of Lincolnshire, and it must be confessed
that they were deservedly held in ill repute. The number of cases
relating to this county preserved among the Star Chamber Papers clearly
shows how little order was kept or justice regarded. There was less
excuse for lawlessness there than on the Borders, but the people seem to
have lived, among the great tracts of undrained fen, almost as wild a
life as the marchmen on their fells and mosses. On the other hand the
men of Lincolnshire were not trained to arms so strictly as the
mosstroopers. They were rather given to riots than to raiding, which
demands a certain amount of discipline. They were very poor and
ignorant, and regarded the gentlemen, their landlords and magistrates,
with suspicious dislike. In 1517 royal commissioners were appointed in
Lincolnshire to enforce the Inclosure Act of 1515[408]. It is rather
surprising that the county should have been included in the commission,
as the report showed that the enclosures were insignificant in extent
and had caused but little eviction[409]. The commission was probably
appointed in consequence of the shire’s turbulence, and it is to be
observed that such enclosure as there was had taken place in the
district which was the centre of the rising, the parts of Lindsey,
including Scrivelsby, Bolingbroke and Horncastle[410].
The gentlemen were quite as lawless as, and only a little better
educated than, the commons. The feuds of such noble families as the
Willoughbys not only caused endless discord among their friends and
enemies, but fomented dozens of petty hatreds among their dependents. A
good thriving feud, fairly rooted in disputed lands, would in the course
of years scatter as many seeds as would afforest half Lincolnshire. An
example of such a minor feud occurs in a complaint brought before the
Star Chamber by Thomas Moigne[411], of the Inner Temple[412], a
gentleman and lawyer of Lincolnshire. He was seised of the manor of
Wyfflingham, but his right to it was disputed by another gentleman,
George Bowgham of Haynton. On 20 Sept. 1534 Bowgham assembled about
forty people at his house. They seem to have been collected haphazard,
anyone who wanted a fight being welcome, and included a pardoner, a
weaver, and several husbandmen. They were armed and set out for
Wyfflingham, summoning others to join them by the way. Moigne was away
from home at the time, and when they reached his house they found no one
but his wife and one of his servants. They cried out that they would
seize all in the place, but as it does not appear that they carried out
their purpose it may be concluded that the lady of the house
successfully defended it against their attack[413]. The characteristic
feature of this outwardly pointless affair is that the rioters assaulted
Wyfflingham when the master was away. If a man could never leave home
without the fear that he might return to find his house in flames and
his wife abused, he would be likely to come to terms about the land. The
frequency of this sort of intimidation does not speak well for the men
of Lincolnshire. The story of the rising is even less pleasing.
Lincolnshire might have been expected to take the lead all through the
rebellion. The movement began there, and such signs of preparation as
can be discovered almost all concern Lincolnshire. The rumours
circulated there most freely, and may even have originated there. But if
it rose first, it was the first shire to lay down arms, and this at
discretion, without making any terms. So divided were the insurgents
among themselves by class-hatred, private feuds and mutual suspicion
that their host was never once in a state to offer battle to the most
feebly organised troops. In Lincolnshire alone were serious outrages
committed[414], but the rebels showed none of the determined enthusiasm
in the field which might have explained their ferocity. The gentlemen
were neither true to the King nor to the cause with which they really
sympathised. The commons showed all the worst qualities of an armed
mob,—they were savage, always swayed by the last speaker, and incurably
suspicious of their leaders, whom they seldom obeyed even when they had
chosen them themselves. The whole affair of Lincolnshire leaves the
impression that the men of the fens were loud speakers but poor
fighters, and almost confirms the King’s description. No doubt this
feeling is partly unjust. As will soon appear, they had many
disadvantages to face, and in particular had no such excellent boundary
to defend as the line of the Humber and Don, which was held by the
Yorkshiremen.
By Michaelmas 1536 three sets of royal commissioners had swooped down
upon Lincolnshire. The first, which had been at work since June, was the
commission for dissolving the smaller monasteries[415], the second was
to assess and collect the subsidy[416], and the third was a commission
of inquiry into the condition of the clergy and their fitness in morals,
education and politics for their office[417]. These provided grievances
for all classes of the community; the commons were outraged by the
suppression of the monasteries, the gentlemen were exasperated by the
fresh taxation, and the clergy were infuriated by the examination which
the commissioners forced them to undergo. They had been warned of the
coming inquiry at the commissary’s court held at Louth about three weeks
before Michaelmas, when the commissary’s scribe, one Peter, told the
priests “that his master bade them look to their books, for they should
have strait examination taken of them shortly after.”[418] The
visitation began at Bolingbroke on 20 Sept., and the priests seem to
have been roughly handled, for they came away fuming with indignation.
The parson of Conisholme said, “They will deprive us of our benefices
because they would have the first fruits, but rather than I will pay the
first fruits again I had liever lose benefice and all.”[419] Simon
Maltby, parson of Farforth, reported on his return home that the silver
chalices of the church were to be given to the King in exchange for tin
ones, and that therefore he and other priests had determined to strike
down the chancellor[420], and trusted in the support of their
neighbours[421]. The next visitation was to be held on Monday, 2 Oct.,
at Louth[422], and several of the priests from that district went to
Bolingbroke to see what the dreaded examination was like; they came away
declaring that they would not be so ordered or examined in their
learning[423].
It does not appear that Thomas Kendale, the vicar of Louth, was one of
those who went to Bolingbroke, but he was as bitterly opposed to the
commissioners as the rest. On Sunday, 1 Oct., he preached a sermon in
the parish church of Louth, in which he told his parishioners “that next
day they should have a visitation, and advised them to go together and
look well upon such things as should be required of them in the said
visitation.” The congregation understood very well what he meant, and as
they prepared to walk in procession after three silver crosses which
belonged to the village, Thomas Foster, a singing-man, cried out,
“Masters, step forth and let us follow the crosses this day: God knoweth
whether ever we shall follow them again.” The rumour of the vicar’s
sermon and Foster’s words spread quickly through the place. Robert
Norman, a roper, gave a penny to Jockey Unsained, otherwise John Wilson,
a carpenter, to carry the report, and after evensong an armed company
appeared at the choir door, and took the keys of the treasure house from
the churchwardens, saying that they knew the chief constable meant to
deliver the jewels to the Bishop’s chancellor next day. The keys were
given into the charge of Nicholas Melton, shoemaker, or Captain Cobbler,
as they called him, and a watch was kept in the church that night for
the first time, which was taken up again night after night until the end
of the rebellion[424].
The news of what had happened in Louth was heard the same night in the
little village of Kedington by Louth Park, the new home of William
Morland alias Burobe, late a monk in the dissolved monastery of Louth
Park. He had been employed since his eviction in carrying
“capacities”[425] to other expelled monks in various parts of the
country, and in the course of his travels he had heard many discontented
mutterings. On Monday, 2 Oct., after matins, he hastened to Louth to
find out the meaning of the “rufflings.” He went first to the church but
was not allowed to enter, for the commons who had been guarding the
jewels were discussing what course they should follow, and whether they
should ring the church bells and raise the alarm. Morland went to the
house of William Hert, butcher, whose brother Robert had been a
fellowmonk of his at Louth Park. The three sat down to breakfast “with
puddings,” in which they were joined by one Nicholas, a servant of Lord
Borough’s.
Meanwhile “the heads of the town” had gathered in the town-hall to
choose an officer for the coming year, as the custom was, and the
commons in the church were left to their own devices. The deliberations
in the town-hall and the breakfast at the butcher’s were both
interrupted by the sound of the church bells ringing out alarm. The
Bishop of Lincoln’s official, John Henneage, had arrived to conduct the
choosing of the new town officers. Hearing the tumult, Nicholas remarked
that some of those who ordered themselves after this fashion would be
hanged; to which the butcher replied, “Hold thy peace, Nicholas, for I
think as much as thou dost, but if they heard us say so, then would they
hang us.” Meanwhile the noise and “skrye” became so great that Morland
went out to see what was happening. He found that Henneage had alighted
at Robert Proctor’s door and had been seized there by an armed mob, who
were taking him to the church. Morland and other honest men helped him
to take refuge in the choir and locked the choir door. The commons were
shouting that he and all who had opposed them the night before must take
an oath that they would be true to the commons and do as they did, upon
pain of death. This oath was administered to Henneage, Morland, and the
honest men by Captain Cobbler, to whom Henneage had tried to speak
privately before being taken to the church. After the oath was taken the
people began to disperse, when again the common bell rang out and they
reassembled to seize John Frankishe, the Bishop of Lincoln’s registrar,
who had come to hold the dreaded visitation[426]. He was taken at the
Saracen’s Head, William Goldsmith’s house; his books were seized and
carried to the market-place, and John Taylor, a webster, brought a great
brand and lighted a fire in the Corn Hill. Other books were brought
out—copies of the New Testament in English and “Frythe, his book,”[427]
a fact which shows that the new creed was penetrating even to this
stronghold of conservatism—and the insurgents prepared to burn these
heretical works, together with the registrar’s papers[428]. Morland was
alarmed at their violence, and exhorted them from Guy Kyme’s doorway,
saying: “Masters, for the Passion of Christ, take heed what ye do, for
by this mischievous act which ye be about to do we shall be all casten
away ... will ye burn those books that ye know not what is in them?” He
prevailed so far that they took him and six other persons who could read
and set them up upon the High Cross, ordering them to read the
registrar’s papers. Morland got hold of the King’s commission, but
before he could make it out, the other people on the Cross, terrified by
the hideous clamour of the crowd below, threw down the papers that they
held, “and every man below got a piece of them, and hurled them into the
fire.”
Meanwhile Frankishe and Henneage had been brought to the market-place,
and the people forced the former to climb up to the highest part of the
Cross by a ladder. The poor man no doubt believed they would hang him,
and when he was on a level with Morland, he whispered, “For the Passion
of Christ, priest, save my life; and as for the books that be already
brent I pass not of them, so as a little book of reckonings ... might be
saved, and also the King’s Commission.” Morland promised to do his best,
took the book of reckonings, and, escaping from the Cross, succeeded in
handing the commission to Henneage. The commons cried out that Frankishe
must burn the papers himself, which he did. Then they demanded what book
it was that Morland carried; with great difficulty he persuaded them to
let him keep it. Then, worn out by the fatigues of the morning, he went
and had a drink. But when he attempted to restore the book to the
registrar, he was set upon by three or four hundred commons, who called
him “false, perjured harlot to the commons for saving that book, for
therein was contained that thing which should do them most tene (harm).”
The book was torn from him, and eventually came to the hands of Captain
Cobbler. Morland went to the registrar, explained what had happened, had
dinner with him, the registrar paying, and helped to smuggle him out of
the town. After this his friends warned him that his life was not safe
for the present, so for the rest of the day he kept away from the
commons[429].
Sixty parish priests who had assembled at Louth for the visitation were
now compelled to take the oath to the commons, and also to swear to ring
the common bells of their parishes and raise the people[430]. The heads
of the town, who were still in the town-hall, were summoned “by the name
of churls” to come and take the oath to God, the King, and the commons
for the wealth of Holy Church. Some forty of the rebels set out for
Legbourne, a small nunnery about two miles away, where the royal
commissioners were then at work. By the way they met one of Cromwell’s
servants, John Bellowe, who was especially detested by all the country.
Some of the commons, returning with him to Louth, met Sir William
Skipwith of Ormsby, whom they took back with them and compelled to take
their oath[431]. Captain Cobbler asserted that Sir William came in of
his own free will[432], but this is very improbable, as he had obtained
a grant of Markby Priory[433], and whatever the attitude of other
gentlemen may have been, he was probably entirely opposed to the rising.
After taking the oath he was allowed to go home[434].
The rest of the band went on to Legbourne, and there took the
commissioners and their servants, William Eleyn, John Browne, Thomas
Manby, and John Milsent[435]. They returned to Louth, taking on their
way one George Parker at the town’s end. The prisoners were very roughly
handled, “all the country crying to kill Bellowe.”[436] He and Milsent
were put in the stocks, and afterwards cast into prison in the custody
of Robert Browne, from which they were released a fortnight later by
Suffolk’s orders[437]. So intense was the hatred which they inspired
that a report flew about the country that one or other of them had been
blinded, wrapped in a raw cowhide, and baited to death with dogs. This
story was reported to the King on 6 October[438], and was frequently
repeated, but it is evidently untrue, for none of the rebels were
examined about the alleged murder, and the two men were afterwards
released.
While the prisoners were being brought in, Henneage had found an
opportunity of slipping away; in his flight he met Guy Kyme at the
town’s end, returning from Grimsby[439], but would scarcely stop to
speak to him for fear of the commons[440]. If Kyme was already in
communication with the disaffected in Yorkshire, he probably brought
news that they were not yet ready to rise, and that the outbreak must be
put off a week or so; but if this was his message he came too late. He
went into the town and tried to stay the commons, and his
representations were supported by others, but it was impossible to draw
back. Captain Cobbler, when urged to make no more business, replied that
“he had otherwise appointed,”[441] while Thomas Noble bade Kyme speak of
no stay or they would kill him[442]. The last event of this tumultuous
day was a proclamation from the High Cross that all the men of the
neighbourhood between the ages of sixteen and sixty must assemble there
on the morrow[443].
The news of the rising at Louth was received the same day by Sir Edward
Madeson and Lord Clinton, who sent it on to Lord Hussey[444]. The
commissioners for the subsidy, of whom Madeson was one, had intended to
sit at Caistor next day, but they arranged by messenger to meet outside
the town to see how events were shaping before they began to sit[445].
The priests who had been sworn at Louth carried the news all over the
countryside.
On Tuesday 3 October Caistor was filled with the constables and head men
of the wapentakes, who had come to meet the commissioners of the
subsidy, and with priests who had come to attend the commissary’s court,
to be held there that day. The commissioners held their preliminary
meeting on Caistor Hill, while in the town itself Anthony Williamson,
Harry Pennell and others “proclaimed aloud that the justices had a
commission from the King to take all men’s harness from them and bring
it to the castle of Bolingbroke.” The commons declared that they would
not give up their weapons. They went to the church and demanded of the
priests, who were assembled there “to the number of eight score,”
whether they would take the commons’ part. The priests received them
enthusiastically, went with them to the market-place, and with their own
hands burnt their books. The commons had already chosen George Hudswell
to be their leader, and the whole body of commons and priests marched
out to Caistor Hill to speak with the justices[446].
When they first assembled the commissioners believed Caistor to be quite
peaceful[447], but presently news was brought of a new factor in the
situation. The town of Louth had been astir since dawn; the common bell
rang and the people assembled, prepared to set out for Caistor, as had
been agreed the night before[448]. Four spiritual men, of whom William
Morland was one, and four laymen were chosen as their leaders, and they
marched off[449]. The justices on Caistor Hill heard that 10,000 men
were advancing upon them[450], a grossly exaggerated rumour, as there
were really not more than 3000[451]. Their first idea was flight, but,
at the suggestion of Mr Dalison, before setting out, they sent to summon
the commons of Caistor to meet them, so that they might explain why the
commission would not sit and urge them to go home before the arrival of
the men from Louth. The insurgents in Caistor would not come, but a
number of people had collected round the commissioners, a hundred or
more. To these they explained that the subsidy was to be assessed by the
people themselves, and that the rumours about robbing and pulling down
churches were false. Their eloquence did not make much impression, for
by this time the church bells of Caistor were ringing against them; and
when the people of Louth came in sight the commissioners turned their
horses and fled[452].
The Louth company would have come up sooner if they had not paused to
decide whether or no they should send on a hundred of their number to
confer with the justices. When it came to the point none of the
commonalty would consent to stay behind, but about a dozen of the best
mounted, with Morland among them, rode forward. On Caistor Hill they met
about 1000 men from Caistor “without weapons, but as they were wont to
do riding to markets and fairs.” While the two parties were discussing
the situation, they saw a company of about twenty horsemen, making for
the house of Sir William Askew, one of the commissioners. The
well-horsed men of Louth rode after them, and asked them to return and
speak to the commons for certain matters which they had in hand. Sir
William Askew was doubtful: “Trowest thou that if I should come amongst
them I should do any good, and be in surety of my life?” he asked.
Morland replied, “Let two of your servants lead me between them, and if
they do any hurt to your person then let me be the first that shall
die.” This, however, was not a very good security, as Sir William’s
servants were clearly on the side of the commons, and one of them
indignantly pointed out to Morland that as they talked Sir Thomas
Missenden had slipped away and escaped among the furze. Sir William
Askew, Sir Edward Madeson and Mr Booth went back with them to the main
body and were all sworn at once. Others of the commons had captured Sir
Robert Tyrwhit[453] and Thomas Portington[454], but Lord Borough, whom
they were particularly anxious to take, escaped, having a swift horse,
and so did Thomas Moigne. In their disappointment the commons turned on
Borough’s unfortunate servant Nicholas, crying that he had warned his
master. Morland says: “there were so many striking at him as he never
saw man escape such danger. At last when he had fled evermore backward
from them almost a quarter of a mile, saving himself always among the
horsemen, he was stricken down by the footmen of Louth and Loutheske.”
Morland went to him, confessed him, and had him conveyed to a safe place
and attended by surgeons, but he seems to have died of his
injuries[455].
The captured gentlemen asked why the commons were making this
insurrection. John Porman, a gentleman, replied “with a loud voice,”
that the commons were willing to take the King as Supreme Head of the
Church and that he should have the first fruits and tenths of every
benefice and also the subsidy granted to him; but he must take no more
money of the commons during his life and suppress no more abbeys; also
Cromwell, and the heretic Bishops of Canterbury, Lincoln, Rochester,
Ely, Worcester and Dublin (Cranmer, Longland, Hilsey, Goodrich, Latimer
and Browne) must be given up to the commons[456]. This answer seems to
embody the demands of the commons themselves, untouched by the influence
of the clergy or the gentlemen. They cared little for theological
questions, but opposed Cromwell’s reckless spoliations.
The insurgents carried their prisoners back to Caistor in triumph[457].
By this time their ranks had been swelled by companies from the
neighbouring villages. The men of Rasen, Fulstow, Kermounde, Rothwell,
and Thoresway were there. In the evening the main body, taking the
gentlemen with them, returned to Louth[458].
Tyrwhit, Askew, Portington and Madeson supped at Guy Kyme’s house, and
after supper were desired to write a letter to the King, begging for a
general pardon. It ran as follows:
“Pleasith your highnes these be to advertise youre grace that this
thirde day of october we by the vertue of your graciouse commission
directe unto us and other for the levacion of your secund payment of
the subsidie to your grace graunted by acte of parliament assembled us
togeders at the towne of Caster within your countie of Lincoln for the
execucion of the same. Wthere were assembled at oure cummyng within a
myle of the seid towne xxiim of your trewe and faithefull (_lege peple
crossed out_) subgietts and moo by oure estimmacion and the causion of
ther said assemble was as they affirmed unto us that the comon voce
and fame was that all the Jewells and goods of the Churches of the
countrey shuld be taken from them and brought to your gracez councell
and also that your seid lovyng and faithful subgets shulde be put of
newe to enhaunsements and other importunate charges. Whiche they were
not able to bere by reason of extreme pouertie and upon the same they
did swere us first to be true to your grace and to take ther parts in
off the comon welthe and so conveid us with them from the seid Caster
unto the towne of Louth XII myles distante from the same (_mark of
omission but no insertion_) where as we yet remayne unto they knowe
forther of your graciouse plesure humbly besechyng youre grace to be
good and graciouse boith to them and us to send us your graciouse
letters of generall pardon orells we be in suche daunger that we be
never like to se your grace nor owre owen houses as this berer can
shewe to whom we beseche your highnes to gyff ferther credence. And
ferther your seid subgietts haith desired us to writte to your grace
that they be yours bodies lands and goods at all tymes where your
grace shall commande (_torn_) for the defense of your person or your
realme[459].
Robt tyrwhyte Willim Ayscugh
Edward Madeson
Thomas Portyngton.”
When this letter had been read to the commons, Sir Edward Madeson and
John Henneage were despatched after midnight to take it up to
London[460]. Many other messengers were hurrying through Lincolnshire
that night. Lord Borough, who had taken refuge at a friend’s house, sent
off news of the rising to the King[461], to the Earl of Shrewsbury at
Sheffield Park[462], who was the nearest representative of the royal
authority, and to Lord Darcy in Yorkshire[463]. Thomas Moigne sent a
message to Lord Hussey from his bailiff’s house at Usselby, where he had
taken refuge[464]. Lord Hussey wrote back asking for further news[465],
and despatched a messenger to warn the mayor of Lincoln[466].
After sending to Hussey, Moigne ventured to go home to Wyfflingham,
where his wife was lying dangerously ill. He found that all the commons
of the neighbourhood had joined those of Louth. He therefore ordered his
bows and arrows to be brought out. Word of this reached the commons, and
for his wife’s sake he was obliged to write to Sir William Askew for
protection. The house was watched and it was impossible for him to
escape[467].
On Wednesday, 4 October, the gentlemen who were held in captivity at
Louth persuaded the commons that they could do nothing more till an
answer was received to the letter they had sent to the King; and they
were so successful that Sir William Askew sent a message to Thomas
Moigne, which he received at 7 a.m., that he might keep the great court
next day at the Isle of Axholme. The lull, however, did not last long.
The bailiff of Wyfflingham presently came to tell Moigne that warning
bells were being rung at Rasen, and that the towns around were ringing
in answer. Moigne directed him to do nothing, and the reason of the
alarm was soon explained. A body of men arrived from Rasen bringing with
them Sir William Askew’s two sons and George Eton, a servant of Lord
Hussey[468]. Eton had been captured at Rasen, and two letters were found
in his possession, one from Lord Hussey to Tyrwhit and Askew, offering
to help to stay the country[469], the other from the mayor of Lincoln in
answer to Hussey’s offer of help[470]. These letters infuriated the
commons so much that they very nearly killed their three captives,—in
fact a report went about the country that Eton had been killed[471].
They were now being taken to Louth, and the men of Rasen insisted that
Moigne must take the oath and go with them.
They arrived at Louth after mass; Moigne had tried to persuade them on
the way to keep the letters secret, but they refused to do so, though he
prevailed upon them to conceal the name of the messenger. As soon as
their contents were known, the people rushed to the church and rang the
common bell, in spite of the efforts made to stop them by Morland and
the gentlemen. A rumour spread that Lord Borough was coming over Rasen
Moor with 15,000 men to destroy them. This increased the tumult, but at
length the gentlemen prevailed on the mob to muster at Julian Bower,
where they were to be divided into wapentakes and to choose
captains[472]. Morland was despatched to find out if there was any truth
in the report about Lord Borough[473]. After Morland had gone, Sir
Andrew Bilsby and Mr Edward Forsett were brought in by the men of
Alford[474]. The newcomers believed the report about Lord Borough, and
assured the gentlemen of it, but the commons’ alarm was now appeased and
they were induced to go to their dinners. The gentlemen hoped that Lord
Borough might arrive without bloodshed. In the afternoon the host
assembled again, and was divided into wapentakes, each having for
captain the commissioner who dwelt in it[475]. It was agreed that they
should muster next day and march on Lincoln, though the gentlemen
opposed the advance as far as they dared[476]. Letters were written to
Lord Hussey and to the mayor of Lincoln, calling upon them to take part
with the commons[477]. At supper-time Morland returned from Horncastle
with grave news. It was true that the report about Lord Borough was
unfounded, but Horncastle had risen, with evil results[478].
As early as Saturday 30 September unrest had manifested itself at
Horncastle[479]. The outbreak came on Tuesday 3 October in response to
the summons of Nicholas Leache, parson of Belchford, and his brother
William. The men of Horncastle marched to Scrivelsby Hall, and took Sir
Robert Dymmoke, his sons, one of whom was the sheriff, Mr Dighton of
Sturton, and Mr Sanderson. Sir William Sandon was also at the Hall, but
refused at first to obey the commons’ summons, until by threats he was
forced to come “with his cap in his hand.” In revenge for his delay the
commons carried him to Horncastle and imprisoned him in the Moot Hall.
This so far intimidated him that he went with the company to bring in
Thomas Littlebury and Sir John Copledike. Another party from Horncastle
went to Bolingbroke, where they found Dr Raynes, the obnoxious
chancellor of the Bishop, ill at a chantry priest’s house[480]. They
made him take the oath “lying sick in bed,” and spent the night there.
Apparently their first intention was to carry him to Horncastle, but he
was saved for the moment, partly by his servant, partly by bribing his
assailants[481].
The commons assembled at Horncastle early in the morning on Wednesday 4
October under the command of Edward Dymmoke, the sheriff, and despatched
two messengers, one to Bolingbroke to order the commons there to bring
in Dr Raynes and another priest called the surveyor, and the other to
Louth to ask for news of Lord Borough[482]. They mustered in a field
near the town, whither the chancellor was brought by one Gibson and John
Lincoln of Hagnaby, “a very rich man.”[483] His appearance was greeted
with a yell of hatred,—he was torn from his horse, set upon, and slain
with staves. His clothes and the money in his purse were divided among
the crowd by the sheriff[484]. The murder was the work of a frenzied
mob, and probably many took part in it. The names of three are
preserved,—William Hutchinson, William Balderstone and Brian Stonys. The
last named, in his deposition, laid the blame of the murder on the
priests and parsons in the crowd, declaring that they cried continually
“Kill him!” and that after he was slain “every parson and vicar in the
field counselled their parishioners to proceed in their journey, saying
they should lack neither gold nor silver.”[485] As Stonys, by his own
confession, was one of the murderers, his statement about the parsons
and vicars cannot be considered very reliable, as he may have been
trying to win a pardon by accusing those who were obnoxious to the
government. But it must be acknowledged that the character of the
Lincolnshire clergy does not appear to have been very high. William
Morland said that when he heard they were to be examined in their
learning he was glad, “thinking he might happen to succeed to the room
of some of the unlettered parsons.” He also said that “certain lewd
priests of those parts, fearing they should lose their benefices, spread
such rumours to persuade the common people that they also should be as
ill handled.”[486] This contemptuous way of speaking may have been
partly due to the slight esteem in which the regulars often held the
secular clergy; but besides this there is evidence that at least one of
the vicars had used threatening language against the chancellor before
the rising began[487]. In short it seems fairly clear that the clergy
who were present at his death did nothing to help him, and were on the
whole pleased by it.
The sheriff and Sir John Copledike were present when Raynes was killed,
and Morland, the messenger from Louth, arrived just in time to see
William Leache go to them and the other gentlemen and ask them to
deliver up to the commons Thomas Wolsey, who had been a servant of
Cardinal Wolsey, in exchange for Stephen Haggar. Wolsey was accused of
being a spy and was promptly hanged, in spite of Morland’s intercession
on his behalf[488].
The gentlemen were not present while this was taking place; they had
withdrawn about a mile, but after a time they returned and read out a
list of articles which they had drawn up, expressing the grievances of
the insurgents. The first two needed no explanation,—they required that
the King should remit the subsidy and let the abbeys stand. The next was
not so intelligible, as it expressed a grievance which affected only the
upper classes. The sheriff therefore addressed the crowd as follows:
“Masters, there is a statute made whereby all persons be restrained to
make their wills upon their lands, for now the eldest son must have
all his father’s lands, and no person to the payment of his debt,
neither to the advancement of his daughters’ marriages, can do nothing
with their lands, nor cannot give his youngest son any lands.”
The commons had not before heard of the Statute of Uses, but when it was
explained to them in this way they were quite willing to include an
article requesting its repeal. The gentlemen next demanded of the people
whether they would ask for the heads of the lord Cromwell, four or five
bishops, the Master of the Rolls[489], and the Chancellor of the
Augmentations[490], “saying to them the lord Cromwell was a false
traitor and that he and the same bishops, the Master of the Rolls, and
the Chancellor of the Augmentations, whom they called two false pen
clerks, were the devisers of all the false laws. And the commons asked
the gentlemen, ‘Masters, if ye have them, would that mend the matter?’
And the gentlemen said, ‘Yea, for these be the doers of all mischief.’”
When these articles had been read, George Staines addressed the commons,
saying, “Masters, ye see that in all the time we have been absent from
you we have not been idle. How like ye these articles? If they please
you, say yea. If not, ye shall have them amended.” “The commons held up
their hands and said with a loud voice, ‘We like them very well’;”
whereupon Staines wrote them out “upon his saddle-bow.” He was believed
to be the deviser of the articles, which superseded other lists drawn up
before. A copy was given to Morland to carry back to Louth[491].
A message was brought by two of Lord Hussey’s servants, offering redress
if any of the commissioners had exceeded their commission, and
requesting the insurgents to send a deputation to speak with him[492].
The servants were asked whether Hussey was not raising the country
against them; they replied it was a false tale[493]. No doubt they dared
not tell the truth, which was that Hussey had sent messages to stay
Holland, and was in communication with Lord Borough, whom he had
promised to meet at Lincoln with 300 men[494]. The men of Horncastle,
however, were satisfied. They made the messengers take the oath and kept
them all night; but they sent three or four men to speak with
Hussey[495]. By the time they arrived he had discovered that he could
not trust his tenants, for when he sent bidding them to come and advise
with him, they replied they had more need of his advice and stayed at
home[496]. The only answer he could return to the Horncastle men was
that he would not be false to his prince, but he could do nothing
against them, as none of his people would take his part[497]. The
messengers spent the night at Sleaford, and returned next day to
Horncastle. On their arrival Hussey’s servants were sent home[498].
On Wednesday evening the man who had been sent to Louth came back to
Horncastle in time to see the bodies of Raynes and Wolsey “burying in
the churchyard.”[499]
William Morland had therefore plenty of news when he returned to Louth
at supper-time. The gentlemen appointed twelve men to be sent to Lord
Hussey and then went to bed meditating upon the murder of Raynes and
Wolsey, the Articles of the commons, and the answer of Lord Hussey. Nor
was the excitement even then at an end, for about midnight there was a
fresh alarm. The commons cried that the gentlemen had betrayed them, and
that they would kill them in their beds. However in the end they
resolved to prove them further, and the disturbance passed over[500].
The rising was now no mere local affair. The news of the chancellor’s
murder flew far and wide, and was the signal for a general arming.
Beacons were burnt along the south side of the Humber, which were seen
and understood in Yorkshire[501], and at 3 a.m. on Thursday morning it
was reported at Beverley that all Lincolnshire was up from Barton to
Lincoln[502]. Any gentleman who stayed at home was liable to be seized
by his tenants to be their captain. The people were particularly anxious
that the monks, for whom they were taking up arms, should share their
risks and expenses, and messages were sent to the greater monasteries,
which had not yet been touched by the King. The turn affairs were taking
was known by Wednesday at Barlings[503]; at Bardney[504], where the
abbot and his company were required to go with the commons; at
Kirkstead[505], where the abbot was told that if he and his monks came
not forth the house should be burnt over their heads, “upon which word,
about 4 of the clock in the evening the abbot, cellarer, bursar, and all
the monks of the abbey able to go, 17 in all, went to the outer gate
where they met a servant of the abbey, who said the host had pardoned
them for that night, but they must be at Horncastle next day at 11
o’clock”;[506] and at Grimsby, where “at night, when the commons came
home, Leonard Curtis came past the (Austin) Friars’ gate in a coat of
fence covered with leather, and with a long spear in his hand, and said
to two friars there, ‘It were alms to set your house of fire; therefore
command your prior that you come tomorrow.’ They desired him to go in
himself, and so he did, and commanded the prior to have his friars ready
when called, and afterwards the ‘sargyn’ brought the same command.”[507]
The need for captains was much felt by the commons in some parts, and
led to the first appearance of Robert Aske among the rebels. Before
Michaelmas the three Aske brothers had been staying at Ellerker in
Yorkswold with their sister Agnes and her husband William Ellerker.
Young Sir Ralph Ellerker was expected at the beginning of October for
some fox-hunting, but he was prevented from coming by his duties as
commissioner of the subsidy, so Robert Aske set out for London, in order
to be there about the beginning of the law term, accompanied by Robert
Aske, his brother John’s eldest son, and another nephew. They crossed
the Humber at Barton, five miles from Ellerker, and heard from the
ferryman of the commons’ rising and the capture of the commissioners. On
landing they set out for Sawcliff, eight miles away, to spend the night
at the house of Thomas Portington. They had only gone two miles when
they were stopped at Ferriby by George Hudswell and a band of horsemen,
who made them take the usual oath—to be true to God, the King and the
Commonwealth. They were allowed to go to Sawcliff, where they found that
Thomas Portington had been taken by the commons and was still with them.
On this Aske became anxious to go back to Yorkshire, but on his way to
the nearest ferry some of the commons met with him “and so intreat him
that he was glad to repair again to Sawcliff.” There he passed the
night—that is the night of Wednesday 4 October[508].
On Thursday 5 October the rebels were early astir. Before daybreak a
party of them appeared at Sawcliff, came to Robert Aske’s bedside and
insisted that he and his three nephews[509] should instantly go with
them. Aske induced them to let the three young men go into Yorkshire
because two of them was heir apparents. But it seems possible there were
more pressing reasons than mere humanity; did Aske send no messages by
them? The commons carried him off to join a company of some two hundred
men who were mustering within three miles of Sawcliff and had no
gentlemen or captains. They spent the morning in raising Kirton Soke,
which had been warned against them ineffectively by Lord Borough. Aske
went along Humber side with the horsemen while the footmen went inland,
and they met again at Kirton at three in the afternoon[510]. The
meeting-place appointed for all the different bands that day was
Hambleton Hill, where in the afternoon assembled the host of Yarborough
Hundred under command of Sir Robert Tyrwhit[511]; Thomas Moigne with 200
men[512]; the men of Louth, who had mustered at Towse Athyenges (Towse
of the Lynge) Heath[513], and those of Horncastle, who had met between
Horncastle and Scrivelsby[514]. The last named brought with them a silk
banner with Lyon Dymmoke’s arms, which they had taken out of Horncastle
church the day before[515]. All the monks of Kirkstead, except the
abbot, joined the host, the cellarer and the bursar mounted and with
battle-axes, the rest on foot. Their serving-men were also carried off
by the rebels. The bursar brought money and provisions, and they were
all welcomed by the sheriff. The entire muster was estimated to be
10,000 strong. On their way one company had come upon Francis Stonar,
priest and surveyor to Lady Willoughby, perhaps the surveyor whom the
people of Horncastle wanted to take the day before. He was roughly used,
but the gentlemen saved his life, and he ransomed himself by paying £100
to their funds[516]. When all had met at Hambleton Hill the general
voice was to march on Lincoln, but Moigne made a speech reminding the
people that now was the time to sow wheat and till the fields for the
next year, and he therefore advised them to send only a small number
forward to represent them. Just then he was told that Nicholas
Girlington, Robert Askew, and one Aske wished to speak with him. He knew
the two former, and also knew that Aske was a lawyer. Believing they
would be on the side of peace, he wished to speak to them alone, but the
commons would not allow it[517]. He told Aske that they would lie that
night at Rasen Wood, and next day at Dunholm Heath, and directed the
commons of Kirton to meet them at Dunholm. Aske took this message to his
company at Kirton. He spent the night at Sawcliff and did not rejoin the
Kirton men again[518].
The host marched from Hambleton Hill to Market Rasen, and there it
became necessary to make arrangements for the night. Some slept in the
fields about the town, others made themselves more comfortable. A party
led by Edmund, “old Lady Tailbois’ chaplain,” was advancing to the
meeting-place when they met Matthew Mackerell, Abbot of Barlings[519],
between Barlings monastery and Barlings Grange. They made him lodge them
for the night and he gave them beef and bread and “the meat that was on
the spit for his brethren’s supper.” Numbers of men entered forcibly and
slept in the chambers of the monastery and “on the hay mowes” in the
barns. The two leaders, whose names Mackerell did not know, commanded
him to join them with all his brethren. The abbot offered to go with
them and sing a litany; he pointed out that it was contrary to his vow
to wear harness, yet the leaders still swore he should go. They
terrified him so much that when he turned to the altar to hear mass, he
trembled till “he could unnethe say his service.” In answer to their
threats he gave them each a crown to buy horses. Thomas Kirton of
Scotherne then came in, and said that he had met a band of horsemen
coming to burn the monastery, but that he had saved it by showing them
the men sleeping in the hay. He brought a message from Mr Thomas
Littlebury, who advised the abbot to please “this ungracious company”;
and he alarmed the poor abbot still more by telling him how “Mr
Sampoull, a man of four score,” had been taken from his bed to be sworn
and forced to send his son with them[520].
If things were moving fast in Lincolnshire, they were not standing still
in London. Madeson and Henneage, who had left Louth at midnight on
Tuesday 3 October, arrived at court about 9 a.m. on Wednesday 4
October[521]. They brought the first definite news of the outbreak. The
King at once perceived that the matter was grave. So great was his
anxiety that it even overcame his pride, and he sent, very reluctantly,
for the Duke of Norfolk, who was living at Kenninghall in Norfolk, in a
state of semi-disgrace for his opposition to Cromwell. The gentlemen in
attendance at court were ordered to make ready to march against the
insurgents under the command of Richard Cromwell, the Lord Privy Seal’s
nephew. Horses were pressed for them by the Lord Mayor of London, who
went from stable to stable, taking the horses of both foreign merchants
and citizens. This vigorous measure aroused indignation, and as the King
did not permit much to be said about the rising in Lincolnshire, the
sufferers were told that the Count of Nassau was coming on a visit to
England with a great company of men but no horses[522]. The King’s
uneasiness could only be increased by the letters which must have
arrived on Wednesday evening from Hussey to Cromwell[523], enclosing the
commons’ summons to him, and from the Earl of Shrewsbury[524], who sent
word of Lord Borough’s flight and the commons’ threats to destroy his
house at Gainsborough if he would not return and lead them[525]. The
Earl had sent out notices to the neighbouring gentlemen, summoning them
to assemble on Thursday at Mansfield with as many men as they could
collect to march against the rebels[526].
The King pressed on the preparations in London as fast as possible. He
was said to distrust the city, and took from it men and horses to
strengthen not only his army but also the Tower “which is his last
refuge.” This action shows the uncertainty under which he laboured: he
did not know how much he might have to fear. His daughters, Mary and
Elizabeth, were summoned to court, as if he felt it was not safe to let
them be out of his sight, and Mary was treated with more kindness and
respect than she had known for a long time. “Madame Marie is now the
first after the Queen, and sits at table opposite her, a little lower
down, after first having given the napkin for washing to the King and
Queen.” It was said that when the first news of the rebellion came Queen
Jane threw herself on her knees before the King and implored him to
restore the abbeys, saying that this was a judgment for their putting
down. “But he told her, prudently enough, to get up, and he had often
told her not to meddle with his affairs, referring to the late queen,
which was enough to frighten a woman who is not very secure.”[527]
Letters missive were sent out to summon musters[528], and a proclamation
was issued to delay for a year the enforcement of the statute regulating
the size of woollen cloths, in order to appease the discontent among the
clothmakers[529]. The only person really pleased by the news was the
Duke of Norfolk. He did not believe the disturbance was anything of
importance and doubted that the rebels could raise 5000 men, but he
hoped that he could use the opportunity to overthrow Cromwell and bring
himself back into favour. Consequently he hurried up to court on the 5th
in very good spirits[530].
Cromwell, on the first coming of the news, despatched two emissaries of
his own to Lincolnshire to gather information[531]. They were Sir
Marmaduke Constable and Robert Tyrwhit[532]. With them went John
Henneage, who had carried the commons’ first petition to the King[533].
At 9 o’clock on Thursday morning they reached Stilton and sent in their
first report. The commons were said to have been 10,000 strong on
Tuesday. Their oath was repeated to the writers by “an honest priest”
who had been forced to take it. It ran: “Ye shall swear to be true to
Almighty God, to Christ’s Catholic Church, to our Sovereign Lord the
King, and unto the Commons of this realm; so help you God and Holydam
and by this book.” Constable and Tyrwhit had delivered the letters of
summons to several of the gentlemen. They intended to push on to
Lincoln, sending a letter to the Lord Steward (Shrewsbury) from
Stamford[534]. At eight o’clock that night they wrote again from
Ancaster. They had learnt that the rebels were now over 20,000 and
expected to be in Lincoln on Saturday. Their petition was that they
might receive pardon for rising, that holydays might be kept as before,
that the religious houses might stand, and that they might be taxed no
more; “they would also fain have you,” i.e. Cromwell. The messengers
were on their way to Lord Hussey[535]. They arrived at Sleaford late at
night, and delivered their letter[536], but they found Lord Hussey quite
unable to carry out the orders it contained. He had sent forward some
armed servants to Colwick, close to Nottingham, intending to follow
them, but when the people heard that he was about to leave them they
rang the common bell and about a hundred assembled outside his gate and
refused to disperse until they had seen him, crying, “Alas, we shall be
brent and spoiled, and all for lack of aid.” Lord Hussey came out and
asked what they wanted. They answered, “Aid,” saying he was their only
aid and that they heard he would leave them. He replied he would come
and go as he pleased, and “‘bade them walk home, knaves,’ trusting to
see them hanged shortly.” He noticed one Bug “with a bill in his hand”
and asked what he wanted. Bug answered, “In faith, my lord, to take your
part, to live and die with you.” Hussey called him “a naughty busy
knave,” and sent them all away “amazed,” but they declared they would
not let him go, and watched his house[537]. Cromwell’s messengers dared
not stay in this dangerous neighbourhood, and left Sleaford at
midnight[538]. Then they separated, Henneage and Tyrwhit going back to
the King, while Constable went on towards Yorkshire. They left with
Hussey several letters for the knights and gentlemen, who had been
“taken” by the commons[539].
Next morning, Friday 6 October, Hussey wrote to Shrewsbury, saying that
he was so beset that he could not leave his house, though he was anxious
to join the King’s forces, asking for orders, and promising to escape
whenever he could[540]. He sent this off by a trusty servant and at the
same time despatched another servant, George Cutler, to the Louth
rebels, with a reply to the deputation which had waited on him the day
before. Cutler was also to deliver the letters to the gentlemen with the
host, and Hussey bid him “say anything to get himself away.”[541] The
host was marching from Market Rasen to Lincoln, but they had not gone
two miles when disputes broke out. The gentlemen complained that the
commons were unruly and said “they should be ordered whether they would
or no”; in the end the commons submitted and the host went on. A rumour
spread that Lord Borough would join them that day, and though there was
no truth in it the commons were much encouraged[542]. The next halt was
at Dunholm Lings, where the men of Kirton Soke were waiting, as Aske and
Moigne had appointed[543]. Here Cutler came to them[544]. Perhaps the
gentlemen were not too well pleased to receive the King’s letters at
such a time. At any rate Sir William Askew questioned Cutler as to
whether Lord Hussey were at home and would take their part; he replied
that “he and all his house were at the commons’ command.”[545] In spite
of this prudent answer he was carried to Lincoln with the host[546]. The
rebels had sent on a party before them to prepare lodgings in the town,
and when they arrived they were well received. The officers of the city
gave orders that provisions should be sold to them at reasonable
rates[547]. They had so far been without artillery, but in Lincoln they
found some guns which, it was believed, had come from Grimsby[548]; had
these anything to do with Guy Kyme’s business at Grimsby the week
before?
The gentlemen lodged in the Close and the commons in the town[549]. The
first to arrive was the company from Louth, and they were joined by the
commons of the city with whom they spent a pleasant time in spoiling the
palace of the hated Bishop[550]. The host of Horncastle came to Lincoln
either this day or early on the morrow. On the march the Abbot of
Barlings had met them at Langwith Lane End. In reply to repeated orders
he brought them “beer, bread, cheese and six bullocks,” and was
accompanied by his brethren. When he had given the provisions to the
sheriff, he begged that he and his monks might be allowed to go home,
but the leaders resolved that six of them must go with the host next
day, “seeing they were tall men.” The abbot was given a passport
permitting him to gather victuals for the commons; his secret intention,
as he said, was to use this to slip out of the country[551].
The sheriff summoned the people of Boston to meet “the great host” at
Ancaster on Sunday 8 October[552]. On receiving this letter the whole of
Holland rose, and the gentlemen were compelled to take the oath, under
pain of having their goods seized. Two thousand men rose in Boston, and
it was believed that the whole number of the rebels was 40,000
“harnessed men and naked men clad in bends of leather.” Those who were
latest to rise said “they would do as their neighbours did, for they
could not die in a better quarrel than God’s and the King’s.” The list
of grievances which they presented to the gentlemen was not quite the
same as the one drawn up at Horncastle. The reforms which they desired
were (1) that the Church of England should have its old accustomed
privileges without any exaction; (2) that suppressed houses of religion
should be restored, “except such houses as the King hath suppressed for
his pleasure only”; (3) that the bishops of Canterbury, Rochester,
Lincoln, Ely, Bishop Latimer and others and the Lord Privy Seal, the
Master of the Rolls, and the Chancellor of the Augmentations, should be
delivered up to the commons, or else banished the realm; (4) that the
King should demand no more money of his subjects except for the defence
of the realm[553].
Cromwell had sent Christopher Askew[554], one of the King’s gentlemen
ushers, to gather news. On Friday he reported that he had advanced into
the country as far as he dared, apparently to Spalding. His report is a
mixture of hearsay and fact; like the gentlemen of Holland he estimated
the number of the rebels at 40,000 or more,—10,000 or 12,000 well
harnessed, and 30,000 more, “some harnessed and some not.” The
journeymen were deserting their masters, and the towns were left
defenceless. “About Stamford, Spalding and Peterborough they are very
faint in rising against the rebels.” In fact they were readier to take
the other side, but Mr Harrington showed them the King’s commission and
they were pacified and glad that the King was coming. Askew advised that
more commissions of this kind should be sent. The people murmured among
themselves that if they held not together they would be undone, “for it
is reported that they shall pay a third part of their goods to the King
and be sworn what they are worth, and if they swear untruly other men
will have their goods.” He had heard the rumours that some had gone to
burn Lord Borough’s house, and that Bellowe had been baited to death. He
also said “they have made a nun in your abbey Legbourn and an abbot at
Louth Park.” But this seems to be a mistake, for, unlike the Yorkshire
rebels, the commons of Lincolnshire made no attempt to restore the
suppressed houses. Mr Harrington had commanded the Prior of Spalding to
raise as many men as he could for the King, “and he answered he was a
spiritual man and would make none.” Askew had heard that Hussey’s
tenants would not rise for him, and it was said he would be taken that
night[555].
The last report was well founded. Hussey’s servant Cutler met a spy of
Shrewsbury’s when the rebels took him to Lincoln. Perhaps he did not
know this man as a friend; at any rate he told him that Hussey was about
to join the rebels[556]. He managed to leave the town that night and
warned his master that the gentlemen were going to send to bring him
in[557]. Thanks to this news Hussey escaped in the night disguised as a
priest[558]. He was just in time, for on Saturday 7 October the host at
Lincoln sent out several bands to find and bring in gentlemen[559]. Five
hundred men under Sir Christopher Askew were despatched for Lord
Hussey[560]. Before they arrived, Anthony Irebye, one of the
commissioners of Holland, brought to Sleaford a troop of about eight
score men which he had raised to serve the King. He found that Hussey
had fled, but in obedience to a letter from him the little troop
afterwards joined the King’s forces[561]. When Sir Christopher Askew
reached Sleaford he was met by the principal people of the town,
including Robert Carre, who begged him not to spoil their houses. Sir
Christopher promised to protect them, and made them join his company.
Hearing that Lord Hussey had fled, the rebels began to cry, “Fire the
house!” but their captain spoke with Lady Hussey and satisfied his
followers by making her promise to follow her husband and bring him
back[562]. George Hudswell of Caistor was appointed to accompany her,
but they did not start that day[563]. After the company had set out for
Lincoln, a tempest of rain drove them back, and they took refuge from
the weather in the Bishop of Lincoln’s castle at Sleaford, where they
spent the night, doing much damage. Lady Hussey gave them
provisions,—beer, salt fish, and bread[564]. Next morning (Sunday 8
October) she sent more food to them, and offered Sir Christopher twenty
angel nobles, which he refused to take[565]. While the rebels made their
way back to Lincoln, she and Hudswell set out in search of Lord Hussey,
whom they found at Colwick[566]. He refused to go with them to join the
rebels at Lincoln, and ordered them to follow him to Shrewsbury, who was
to hold a muster at Nottingham next day[567]. Hussey had received an
answer to his letter of the 6th which might well make him anxious.
Misled by the report of the spy who had been told by Cutler that Hussey
was wavering if not actually pledged to the rebels[568], Shrewsbury had
become suspicious of his loyalty. He wrote: “My lord, for the old
acquaintance and familiarity between us I will be plain with you. You
have always shown yourself an honourable and true gentleman, and no man
may do the King higher service in those parts by staying these misruled
persons and finding means to withdraw the gentlemen and men of substance
from among them, when the commons could do small hurt. For I assure you,
on my troth, all the King’s subjects of the counties of Derby, Salop,
Stafford, Worcester, Leicester and Northampton will be with me tomorrow
to the number of 40,000 and I trust you will keep us company.”[569] In
the face of these suspicions it is no wonder that Hussey was angry with
his wife when she implored him to return to the rebels. He rode to the
Lord Steward with what speed he might.
The rebels stayed at Lincoln all Saturday. Early in the morning they
mustered at New Port, and it was agreed to send another letter to the
King, as no answer had been received to the first[570]. The men of
worship held a council at Mile Cross towards Nettleham apart from the
host, and drew up a new set of articles, because they considered those
made at Horncastle “wondrous unreasonable and foolish.”[571] As a matter
of fact the new articles seem to have differed very little from the old,
unless others had been inserted among the Horncastle articles besides
the four given above. The wandering bands brought in gentlemen from the
surrounding country,—Sir John Sutton, Robert Sutton and the
Disneys[572]. The Abbot of Barlings came with six of his canons, all in
harness; but he only delivered his men and went straight home
again[573]. Several monks came from Bardney[574], and those pressed at
Kirkstead were still with the host.
On Sunday 8 October the host mustered at Lincoln; they had changed Lyon
Dymmoke’s banner for a white cloth to which was pinned a picture of the
Trinity painted on parchment[575]. The commons were growing impatient at
the delay, but the gentlemen were undecided as to what course of action
they should follow, and wished to hear more of the King’s preparations
before committing themselves to an advance. The great muster on Ancaster
Heath had been appointed for this day, but the gentlemen postponed it,
saying they must await the King’s answer[576].
The articles which had been prepared the day before were read aloud to
the whole host by George Staines, who offered himself as a messenger to
take them to the King[577]. No complete copy of these articles has been
preserved, but they seem to have been seven in number, as follows:
(1) that the King should demand no more taxes of the nation, except in
time of war.
(2) that the Statute of Uses should be repealed.
(3) that the Church should enjoy its ancient liberties and that tenths
and first fruits should not be taken from the clergy by the
government.
(4) that no more abbeys should be suppressed.
(5) that the realm should be purged of heresy, and the heretic
bishops, such as Cranmer, Latimer, and Longland should be deprived and
punished.
(6) that the King should take noblemen for his councillors, and give
up Cromwell, Riche, Legh and Layton to the vengeance of the commons,
or else banish them.
(7) that all who had taken part in the insurrection should be
pardoned[578].
The host accepted the articles, but they were not yet despatched to the
King.
The gentlemen had established themselves apart from the commons; their
lodgings were in the Close and their meeting-place was the Chapter House
of the Cathedral, where on Sunday evening they received two letters of
the greatest moment. The first was brought by William Woodmansey; it was
under the common seal of the town of Beverley and addressed to the
people of Lincolnshire. It informed them that, hearing of their rising,
the townsmen of Beverley had also taken up arms; they wished to know the
Lincolnshire articles and were ready to send help. The gentlemen were
obliged to reply, and wrote a letter enclosing the new articles. The
papers were entrusted to Guy Kyme and Thomas Donne, who probably set out
for Yorkshire with Woodmansey next morning. Meanwhile the news from
Beverley had spread, and the whole city of Lincoln was humming with
excitement. The commons’ one thought was to set forward without delay.
Their rear was safe,—why should they loiter? The leaders still insisted
that they must wait for the King’s reply. In the midst of these
discussions two more messengers arrived and came before the meeting in
the Chapter House. They were from Halifax, and brought word that their
country was up and ready to do as the men of Lincolnshire did. It was a
wonder that the gentlemen themselves were not carried away by the
surging enthusiasm of the commons. When they had already risked so much
they might in that moment of triumph have brought themselves to stake
all. But they still counselled prudence. They assured their followers
that it would be high treason to march against the King’s troops before
the King’s answer came. It speaks poorly for the intelligence of the
host that this ridiculous reason was enough to turn them from their
purpose. George Staines was at length despatched to London with the new
set of articles. The commons were heartily tired of Lincoln and
inaction, but they consented to stay there another day on the
understanding that they should be allowed to spoil the goods of any man
who did not join the host when summoned[579].
NOTES TO CHAPTER V
Note A. The conduct of the Percys in Northumberland was outrageous
enough, but, as good luck would have it, no one was murdered. Moreover
the Percys and the thieves of Tynedale were responsible for this, not
the gentlemen and commons of the county as a body.
Note B. When one of the lesser monasteries was suppressed, the monks
were given a choice of two courses; they might either be transferred
to one of the large houses of the same Order, which was not yet
suppressed, or they might receive a paper from the King by which they
were released from their vows and received licence to begin life over
again as ordinary laymen. These were called “capacities.”
Note C. Holinshed identified the Abbot of Barlings with Captain
Cobbler. There is no hint of this in any contemporary chronicle, and
the most cursory reference to the State Papers shows that it was a
mistake. Nevertheless the error has been very generally copied[580].
Note D. There is a curious story that Shrewsbury was very uneasy lest
he should be accused of treason for levying men to resist the rebels.
It is first told by Holinshed (1577), but no foundation for it can be
discovered in contemporary chronicles and documents. Holinshed
asserted that he had been told it by “men of good credit that were
then present.” According to this story, the Earl consulted his friends
and legal advisers as to whether he might lawfully muster men. They
replied that he might do so. He retorted, “Ye are fools. I know it in
substance to be treason, and I would think myself in a hard case, if I
thought I had not my pardon coming.” Thereupon he sent out orders for
the muster, and wrote to the King begging for a pardon. The King sent
him both a pardon and thanks. The men assembled expecting the Earl to
lead them to join the rebels, but he took a solemn oath before them
all that he was true to the King alone[581]. The baselessness of this
story appears when it is compared with Shrewsbury’s letters. On 4 Oct.
he sent news of the rising and asked for orders[582]; at the same time
he sent out a summons to the neighbouring gentlemen to muster at
Mansfield next day[583]. On the 6th he acknowledged the receipt of the
King’s letters missive, containing orders to assemble his men, and
described the musters which he had appointed[584]. Cromwell wrote a
flowery letter of compliments and thanks to him on the 9th, but
without a suggestion that any pardon was needed[585]. The King sent
him further orders and a new commission on the 15th, but without
hinting that he had been over zealous[586]. Noblemen were expected to
suppress riots without waiting for orders, and it was made a charge
against Hussey that he did not muster his men at the first alarm. The
only foundation which there can be for Holinshed’s story is some vague
memory that the Earl’s attitude at the beginning of the rising
awakened doubt. He was a devout man, and very much opposed to
innovations in any form[587]. Personal loyalty kept him true to the
King, but there is every reason to believe that he had much stronger
sympathy for the rebels than for Cromwell.
Note E. The reduplication of names is very confusing. Sir Marmaduke
Constable was the cousin of Sir Robert Constable of Flamborough, not
his brother or his son, although they both bore the same name. Robert
Tyrwhit was a different person from Sir Robert Tyrwhit, the
commissioner who was taken at Caistor. Christopher Askew, again, was a
different person from Sir Christopher Askew, one of the Lincolnshire
gentlemen who was most enthusiastic in the rebels’ cause.