THE FAILURE OF LINCOLNSHIRE
By Saturday 7 October the preparations in London were fully under weigh.
Letters under the Privy Seal were sent out. They announced that the King
purposed to advance against the rebels in person, and summoned the
noblemen to whom they were directed to meet him at Ampthill each with a
specified force. Orders were sent out to the ports to keep watch;
arrangements were made for posts; lists were drawn up of those who were
to march against the rebels, those who were to attend the King and those
who were to guard the Queen[588]. Sir William Fitzwilliam, the Lord
Admiral, was despatched to Ampthill. He reported that the country was
loyal as far as Godalming and Guildford, and that he had no difficulty
in raising men, but that he would only take horsemen as recruits, there
being such need of haste[589].
The news of the insurrection was first sent abroad by Chapuys, who
wrote to the Emperor on 7 October. The ambassador believed that the
insurgents were numerous and the disaffection widespread, but he did
not think that they could hold out long, as they lacked both money and
a leader. Nevertheless the King seemed dejected, great preparations
were going forward, and Cromwell was said to be afraid. His nephew
Richard Cromwell had taken quantities of arms from the Tower, and was
pressing men, even the masons at work on Cromwell’s house; the
sanctuary men were being imprisoned for fear they should join the
rebels. The Duke of Norfolk dined that day with the Bishop of
Carlisle—a special occasion for which wine was procured from
Chapuys—and requested his host to help to make some large purchases of
cloth which the government was organising to allay the discontent
among the clothmakers. The Bishop promised to contribute, and many
wealthy merchants and bishops were compelled to do the same.
Immediately after dinner Norfolk set out for his own country to raise
men for the muster at Ampthill and to prevent disturbances[590].
Reports of the rebels’ strength and the unsettled state of the country
south of Lincolnshire poured in upon Cromwell[591]. Lord Clinton had
been despatched to the Midlands with letters missive summoning the
gentlemen to keep order in their own neighbourhoods and to raise men for
the King, who were to meet the Earl of Shrewsbury at Nottingham on
Monday. The Earls of Rutland and Huntingdon were ordered to join him.
Clinton was unable to deliver the letters to the Lincolnshire gentlemen,
and wrote on the 7th that Hussey would probably be taken that day[592].
There was a rumour that Clinton had raised 500 men who immediately went
over to the enemy[593]. Two friars of Grimsby sent Cromwell information
against the prior of the Austin Friars, who had supplied the rebels with
money[594]. The gentlemen of Holland reported the rising of their
country on Saturday[595]. Sir William Hussey, who seems to have escaped
from Sleaford at the same time as his father, rode straight to London
with only one servant. By the wayside they heard the people “both old
and young, praying God speed the rebellious people of Lincolnshire, and
saying that if they came that way they should lack nothing that they
could help them to.”[596] In Windsor itself a priest and a butcher were
hanged for expressing sympathy with the rebels[597]. On Friday Sir
Edward Madeson, who brought the commons’ letter to the King, was
examined before the Council, and told them what he knew of the
rebels[598], which, as he had left Lincolnshire on Tuesday night, was
not very much.
George Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, the Lord Steward, was at Hardwick in
Sherwood on Saturday 7 October[599]. On this day Sir Arthur Darcy
arrived at his camp. He had been sent by his father from Templehurst
with letters which reported the unsettled state of the country, the
risings in Lincolnshire and Northumberland, and asked for orders, money
and ordnance[600]. He found the Lord Steward “sore crassyd” with
sickness, but labouring to muster all his powers at Nottingham on Monday
next. Sir Arthur saw a chance of distinguishing himself in the coming
conflict, and his father’s messages, essential as they were to the
safety of the north, were at once thrown to the winds. He wrote to Lord
Darcy, telling him that when the Lord Steward gave him a message for the
King, “I said I would be no messenger when the King should need; and
further that I knew well that he being at so near a point to try his
friends that I would be with him, thoff I had but my page and my man.”
He therefore asked that his men might be sent up to him “and I shall
there be found near the Talbot.” In a postscript he drops from his
heroics to domestic details, “Remember a truss bed and my harness for me
and my men.”[601] The spy who had been at Lincoln told Shrewsbury that
the rebels were about 40,000 strong, but only 16,000 in harness. He
reported the muster to be held at Ancaster, where it was said that
Hussey would join the rebels. He had promised to return to Lincoln and
was about to do so. His watchword was “Remember your promise.”[602]
Shrewsbury at Hardwick and Rutland, who had already arrived at
Nottingham with his men, were both writing to the King for money and
ordnance, “for money is the thing that every poor man will call
for.”[603]
Fitzwilliam reached Ampthill on Sunday 8 October and “planted his
standard and guydon.” Richard Cromwell was again at the Tower and took
out “34 little falconets of those made by the King last year”; he set
out with them, but the roads were so heavy with the recent rain that
when they had gone no more than a mile into the country the horses broke
down[604]. Thirteen of the guns were sent back at once, and in the end
only sixteen could go forward, together with the necessary stores and
supply of weapons[605]. Richard Cromwell pushed on without waiting for
the guns. He reached Ware that night, meeting by the way some recruits
and two fugitives from Lincolnshire, who told him the rebels were 40,000
strong, that their numbers were ever growing, and that they were
encamped in strong positions[606].
As the reports of the insurrection became more and more alarming, the
King altered his plans. His first idea was that Shrewsbury could easily
dispose of the rebels, and that he himself would then make a military
promenade through the district. The Duke of Norfolk had been sent to
Ampthill “to exercise the office of High Marshal, and to set the army
which shall be then arrived in order, that the King on his repair
thither on Monday[607] may view them and dismiss them from time to time
with thanks and good entertainment.”[608] But it was now evident that
the campaign would be no mere picnic, and the King was unwilling to
expose his royal person to its possible dangers, while the need for
haste was so great that it would be unwise to hamper the army by the
delays which were inevitable if the King accompanied it. At the same
time he did not consider it safe to trust the command to the Duke of
Norfolk if he himself were not there, as Norfolk was suspected of
leanings towards the old religion[609]. It was impossible to send
Cromwell, for while on the one hand he was no general, on the other he
was so unpopular that it would have been difficult to find a dozen men
who would follow him. The King therefore had recourse to his old comrade
Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, who was one of the few persons Henry
regarded with something like friendship and confidence. Suffolk had gone
to his own country to prevent disturbances, when a message overtook him
that he was to set out at once for Huntingdon, where he would find
Richard Cromwell with the stores from the Tower. On receiving these
orders he lost no time. Leaving the force he had mustered to follow him,
he turned northwards, riding all night[610].
Meanwhile letters reached Norfolk countermanding his orders, directing
him to send his son, the Earl of Surrey, and his horses to the Duke of
Suffolk, and to remain himself in Norfolk to stay the country[611]. He
must have suspected that such a slight was due to Cromwell’s jealousy,
and he wrote at once a vigorous remonstrance pointing out that if he
were to send away his son and his horses he could do little towards
staying the people. He declared that rather than “sit still like a man
of law” he would set out on Tuesday unless he received positive orders
to the contrary. This letter was despatched at 1 a.m. on Sunday 8
October from Easterford[612]. By 6 p.m. on the same day Norfolk had
reached Stoke and found so many seditious rumours by the way that he had
become reconciled to the idea of remaining in that part of the country,
but he found it more than ever necessary to keep his son and horses with
him. The clothmakers were “very light,” and had only been prevented from
rising by the proclamation suspending the new statute. Nevertheless the
Earl of Oxford would be able to do as much as he towards keeping all
quiet, and he concluded with a final protest: “I think I had much wrong
offered me to send my son and servants from me, considering that he
cannot overtake my lord of Suffolk who will be tomorrow night at
Huntingdon, and they shall be fought withal or tomorrow noon by my Lord
Steward.”[613]
On Monday 9 October Norfolk was at Woolpit. He reported that he could
raise 2500 men, and that he had “set such order that it shall be hard
for anyone to speak an unfitting word without being incontinently taken
and sent to me.” He had heard of the rising in Boston and Holland and
was prepared to meet the rebels if they attempted to join hands with the
discontented clothiers of Suffolk. If only Oxford were sent down the
country would be safe enough, and he himself was ready to serve under
the Duke of Suffolk, whom he could join in two or three days[614]. Three
hours later, when he was within three miles of his home at Kenninghall,
he received a summons to the general muster, dated the 7th[615].
Probably the messenger had been despatched on the 7th, had missed
Norfolk, who had been travelling about so much, and had only come up to
him now. But the Duke at once accepted the summons as countermanding the
orders that had reached him on the 8th, and wrote to the Council that he
would set out for London that night as soon as the moon rose[616]. Here
we must take leave of my Lord of Norfolk for a considerable time.
On Sunday 8 October Lord Darcy wrote to his son from Pontefract Castle,
urging him to make haste to the King; the Lord Steward, he said, would
understand that Sir Arthur was necessary to his father, on account of
his (Lord Darcy’s) debility, and he could do most service by going to
the King at once. In spite of every effort, Yorkshire was on the point
of rising[617]. The King’s letters summoning the northern counties to
send help to Shrewsbury were received at Pontefract that day. The danger
of mustering men in a shire humming with sedition was obvious. However
Sir Brian Hastings, the sheriff, who was with Darcy, set out to gather
what men he could and march to Nottingham[618]. The King wrote to Darcy
on the same day, in ignorance of Yorkshire affairs, simply to tell him
to deny the rumours about parish churches, etc., and thereby expose the
“wretched and devilish intents” of the rebels[619]. Next day, Monday 9
October, the King did at last receive Darcy’s letters. He thanked him
for his warning and politic proceedings, but was confident that the
danger was at an end, and that all Darcy had to do now was to arrest
fugitives and any who spread rumours[620]. This tone of exaggerated
confidence perhaps shows that the King distrusted Darcy, for the
position of affairs seemed very unpromising from the royal point of
view. It was reported in London that Sir Thomas Percy had joined the
rebels with 30,000 men to avenge himself on the King for the loss of his
inheritance[621]. No doubt this was the first distorted hint of the
rising in the northern counties.
The disposition of the royal forces was as follows: at Nottingham were
the Earls of Shrewsbury, Rutland, and Huntingdon, with such forces and
weapons as they could muster. At Stamford were Sir John Russell and Sir
William Parr with a small force in an absolutely defenceless town[622].
At Huntingdon was the Duke of Suffolk, who arrived there at 6 a.m. on
Monday morning, almost alone, to find “neither ordnance nor artillery
nor men enough to do anything; such men as are gathered there have
neither harness nor weapons.”[623] He had received from the King letters
for the rebels, which reproached them for their disloyalty, denied the
rumours, and threatened them with terrible vengeance if they did not
instantly submit[624]. These he sent to Lincoln with a covering letter
of his own[625]. Even if the rebels refused to surrender he hoped he
might be able to prevent their advance until the royal army was in a
little better order. But he also wrote to ask for instructions in case
they should submit, and to urge that money, of which he was greatly in
need, and ordnance, should be sent at once. Many of the troops which he
had levied in Suffolk were detained there by the King’s orders, and he
begged that they might be sent after him under command of Sir Anthony
Wingfield, Sir Arthur Hopton, and Sir Francis Lovell. He was expecting
to be joined by Sir Francis Brian, who was at Kimbolton with 300 horse.
He had written to Parr and Russell to ask whether it would be possible
to defend Stamford; if not they were to fall back upon him at
Huntingdon[626]. At the same time he wrote to Cromwell for “a herald,
two pursuivants, two trumpets and the King’s banner.”[627]
On Tuesday 10 October Suffolk determined to advance to Stamford instead
of halting at Huntingdon. He was joined early in the morning, before he
set out, by Richard Cromwell, without the ordnance[628], which was
finally despatched from London that very day under charge of William
Gonson[629]. Richard had heard a rumour that Suffolk had lost a battle
and 20,000 men, and wrote to his uncle to assure him that everything was
going well[630]. George Staines was taken by the royal troops on his way
up to London with the rebels’ second petition to the King, and was sent
on under guard by Suffolk[631]. By 8 o’clock on Tuesday night there were
assembled at Stamford the forces of Suffolk and Richard Cromwell, Sir
John Russell and Sir William Parr, Sir Francis Brian, and the troops
from Ampthill under the Admiral, Sir William Fitzwilliam[632].
The letters from the King and the Duke of Suffolk were delivered this
day to the gentlemen in the Chapter House of Lincoln Cathedral. They
brought the affairs of the rebels to a crisis. It became necessary for
the gentlemen to make a definite choice. The royal troops were
disorganised and without money or ordnance. In discipline, equipment,
and fighting quality they were exactly the same as the insurgents,
neither better nor worse; both alike were drawn from the ordinary farm
hands of the country and tradesmen of the town. The rebels, being on
volunteer service, might be something above the royal troops in spirit;
on the other hand the King’s men had no voice in the council of war and
were more amenable to authority. The commons of Lincolnshire were
clamouring to be led to battle, and one small success, which seemed well
within their reach, might raise the whole kingdom and leave the King at
their mercy. But the gentlemen were afraid. In order to gain that
victory they must definitely throw in their lot with the commons, give
up the plea that they were with them only on compulsion, and abandon all
hope of making peace with the King. If they fought and were defeated
those who did not fall in the field would end on the gallows, or at best
in exile; their lands would pass to strangers, their children would be
left destitute, and the old names would die out. Lincolnshire would be
given over to fire and pillage. If they fought and won, it would mean
the renewal of civil war in England, after fifty years of peace. The new
war would be a religious war, with some prospect of a foreign invasion;
England at the hour of her first prosperity, just taking her place among
the nations, might be crippled beyond recovery. It was a terrible
decision to lie in the hands of a few country gentlemen, who were not,
perhaps, very well fitted to deal with such momentous affairs.
Cromwell’s servant, John Williams, declared a few weeks later that he
had never seen anywhere “such a sight of asses, so unlike gentlemen as
the most part of them be. Knights and esquires are meeter to be baileys;
men void of good fashion, and, in truth, of wit, except in matters
concerning their trade which is to get goods only.”[633] This is very
prejudiced evidence, but the attitude of the Lincolnshire gentlemen
towards the rebellion is a difficult problem. It is impossible to speak
of them all collectively as doing or believing this or that. The chief
distinction that must be noticed is the division of the host into two
principal bands, the men of Louth and the men of Horncastle.
The gentlemen who belonged to the Louth district seem on the whole to
have been acting from the first against their will; they were for the
most part the commissioners taken at Caistor, and they had generally
every reason to support the government and fear the commons. There were
exceptions, such as Sir Christopher Askew, but on the whole the commons
were right in the suspicions which they entertained of their enforced
leaders. William Morland stated in his evidence that “as far as he could
see both all the gentlemen and honest yeomen of the country were weary
of this matter, and sorry for it, but durst not disclose their opinion
to the commons for fear of their lives.”[634]
In the Horncastle host the leaders were not nearly so reluctant. When
the people first rose there and went to Scrivelsby Hall they were met,
about a quarter of a mile from the house, by the sheriff, Thomas Dymmoke
of Carlton, Mr Dighton of Sturton, Mr Sanderson, and Arthur Dymmoke.
They greeted the commons with the words, “Masters, ye be welcome,” and
when they were told they must take the commons’ oath they replied, “With
a good will.” When the sheriff was asked whether the bells should be
rung, he said, “Yea, and ye will, for it is necessary that the people
have knowledge.”[635] That night the Sandersons went through the village
of Snelland in harness and told the people that they must be at the
Horncastle muster next day[636]; they were the bringers of the white
banner with the parchment picture[637]. It was the gentlemen of
Horncastle who drew up the articles and explained the Statute of Uses to
the commons[638]. Nicholas Leache, the parson of Belchford, who was with
the Horncastle company, thought “all the exterior acts of the gentlemen
amongst the commons were done willingly, for he saw them as diligent to
set forward every matter as the commons were. And further during the
whole time of the insurrection not one of them persuaded the people to
desist or showed them it was high treason. Otherwise he believes in his
conscience they would not have gone forward, for all the people with
whom he had intelligence thought they had not offended the King, as the
gentlemen caused proclamations to be made in his name. He thinks the
gentlemen might have stayed the people of Horncastle, for at the
beginning his parishioners went forward among the rebels only by command
of the gentlemen. The gentlemen were first harnessed of all others, and
commanded the commons to prepare themselves harness, and he believes the
commons expected to have redress of grievances by way of supplication to
the King.”[639]
At first the policy of the gentlemen, whether favourable or unfavourable
to the rising, was probably much the same. There would have been no
difficulty in making a sudden dash up to London, for there was no force
to oppose them on the way; but even if they reached London, as Wat Tyler
and Jack Cade did from nearer points, it was difficult to do anything
effective there. The well-wishers of the insurgents might reasonably
think that their best chance lay in drilling the commons into some sort
of discipline before they advanced, and this was the opinion of all the
gentlemen. According to George Hudswell, “Sir William Skipwith said they
(the commons) should be ordered whether they would or no, and every
gentleman said it shall be well done that they be ruled”;[640] Philip
Trotter deposed that “from the beginning to the end of the insurrection
the gentlemen might have stayed it if they would, for the commons did
nothing but by the gentlemen’s commandment, and they durst never stir in
the field from the place they were appointed to till the gentlemen
directed them what to do; and were cautioned not to stir from their
appointed places upon pain of death.”[641] Moreover, if the leaders knew
that Yorkshire would rise in a few days, they may have wished to put off
their advance on London until they were joined by reinforcements from
the north.
The fact that the gentlemen counselled delay does not therefore prove
that they were really opposed to the rising. But by Tuesday 10 October
the spirits of the most daring seem to have failed. No doubt rumours of
the King’s musters had reached them as much exaggerated as the accounts
of their own numbers which were repeated in London. The first effect of
the news from Yorkshire had worn off. The commissioners were men of
influence, and when the more impetuous of the gentlemen found them
opposed to the movement, they probably felt its chance of success was
very much diminished. They may have been half irritated and half
frightened by the attitude of the commons, who were in a grumbling,
dispirited, and yet vicious mood. They feared their allies quite as much
as the troops which opposed them; and recollections of the German
Peasant Revolt in 1525 would increase their alarm[642]. When it came to
the parting of the ways, even those who had at first seemed heart and
soul with the rebels wavered; they dared not proclaim themselves
traitors and give up the path of retreat which they believed was still
open to them. Accordingly they prepared to desert the commons. If they
had had a chief captain, a man who thought of neither gentlemen nor
commons but only of the cause, this dangerous time might have been tided
over. A popular leader might have coaxed the host out of its ill-humour,
and inspired the gentlemen to forget the promptings of cowardice and
treachery in the greatness of the adventure which they had taken upon
them. But there was no leader, and mistrust and disorder took his place
in Lincoln.
There was a muster upon Lincoln Heath on Tuesday morning, but it seems
to have been ill-attended. The monks of Kirkstead and the men of
Sleaford both were given leave to go home[643]. William Morland returned
to his home at Kedington, and in passing through Louth saved the lives
of Cromwell’s servants, Bellowe, Milsent, and Parker, who had been
imprisoned in the Tollbooth since Monday 2 October. Their captors,
having taken their money and given it into the charge of Robert Brown
the jailor, had resolved to put them to death, but Morland and some
honest men of the town persuaded the crowd to spare the prisoners and
disperse. In recognition of this service Parker and his fellows
requested the jailor to give Morland, out of the £6 of their money which
he was keeping, “two crowns, the one of 5_s._ and the other of 14
groats, and to make up just 10_s._ they gave him 4_d._ in silver.”[644]
It is a pity that Morland, who was so good an observer and narrator, was
away from Lincoln on this critical day, as only one account of the
events now remains, that of Thomas Moigne[645].
On Tuesday afternoon some three hundred of the commons brought in the
letters from the King and the Duke of Suffolk addressed to Sir Robert
Tyrwhit, Sir William Askew, Sir William Skipwith and Sir Edward Dymmoke.
They carried them to the gentlemen who were assembled in the Chapter
House, and insisted on hearing their contents. Moigne began to read the
letters aloud, but coming to a part which he knew would anger the
commons, he omitted it. The parson of Snelland, standing at his elbow,
detected this, and cried out to the commons that the letter was falsely
read[646]. The meeting was plunged into confusion; someone cried that it
was time to kill some of the justices: if they were hanged for it they
would not leave a gentleman alive in the shire[647]; many would have
slain Moigne. In the end the wilder spirits were driven out into the
cloisters, where, after much debate, they determined to kill the
gentlemen. Their plans miscarried, for the gentlemen’s servants
overheard, and warned their masters that a party was lying in wait to
kill them as they came out of the west door of the minster. With the aid
of the faithful servants they were smuggled out of the south door to the
house of the murdered chancellor, and there they resolved to make a
stand, to refuse to go forward, and to defend themselves, if necessary,
until the royal army relieved them[648]. According to Moigne this
resolution was taken by his advice, but some preparations had been made
the day before to render the Close defensible against the commons[649].
The servants carried messages to “the most honest men of their
companies” by which they were induced to give up the idea of going
forward. Meanwhile the commons outside the minster discovered that they
had been tricked, and decided not to attack the gentlemen until
morning[650].
On Wednesday 11 October the gentlemen and honest men, in harness,
marched down from Lincoln minster and met the commons in the fields,
where they stated clearly that they would not go forward, but would wait
for the King’s answer to their suit for pardon. They had written to
Suffolk to ask him to intercede for them, and they would do no
more[651]. The commons seem to have been completely bewildered by this
turn of affairs. They did not attack the gentlemen, but neither did they
choose leaders of their own and go on, nor as an alternative return to
their homes in a body. A good many slipped away quietly; Robert Carre of
Sleaford, for instance, went to see his wife, who had taken refuge with
her father, put his “evidences” into two chests, gave orders that they
were to be hidden in a hole under the thatch if the host came by, and
rode off to join Lord Clinton at Nottingham[652]. The canons of Barlings
went home the same day[653]. William Morland on the other hand returned
to Lincoln by way of Louth, where he “made him a cloak of black cloth.”
It was said in the host that he had gone to Louth to fire the beacons,
which shook his credit both with the gentlemen and the commons, until
two indifferent men were sent to Louth, who reported that he had done no
such thing[654].
Rumours of the rebels’ flight soon reached Suffolk’s camp, and Richard
Cromwell reported them to his uncle. His letter gives an amusing glimpse
of Suffolk’s headquarters. Richard says that “my Lord Admiral”
(Fitzwilliam) and also “my Lord’s Grace” (Suffolk) show him great
attention, and “my Lord Admiral is so earnest in the matter that I dare
well say he would eat them (the rebels) with salt. I never saw one
triumph like unto him.”[655] It is easy to imagine the nobles, with
hearts full of contempt and hatred, showing every courtesy to the young
upstart, and taking care that their abuse of traitors grew warmer when
he appeared. It was first said that 10,000 or 12,000 of the rebels had
fled home, but later in the day one of Sir John Thimbleby’s sons arrived
at Stamford who halved these figures, but declared that not 10,000
remained in Lincoln. Young Thimbleby’s reception was not encouraging;
Suffolk at once put him in ward and threatened, if his father did not
come in by eight next morning, to spoil all he had and cut his son in
pieces. The feeling against Sir John was particularly strong, because
Russell and Parr accused him of assembling all his tenants as if to join
them, threatening to burn the houses of those who refused to go with
him, and then taking his whole company over to the rebels. Suffolk
intended to march on Lincoln on Saturday, and afterwards to destroy
Louth and Horncastle. Richard Cromwell professed to be very sorry that
the rebels were flying, as he had hoped they would be used as they
deserved and the whole shire sacked[656]. The ordnance had arrived at
Huntingdon[657], so that Suffolk was able to think of advancing. His
only wish was to meet the rebels in a pitched battle, but Shrewsbury, at
Nottingham, was more politic. He had with him Thomas Miller, Lancaster
Herald, whom he despatched to Lincoln with a proclamation which bade the
rebels depart to their homes[658]. Lancaster Herald reached Lincoln on
Wednesday evening and found everything in confusion,—the gentlemen
anxious to make their peace with the King,—the commons without leaders,
without plans, without hopes[659]. It was too late to discharge his
errand that night.
On Thursday 12 October the host was summoned to the Castle Garth to hear
his proclamation[660]. It was in the names of George Earl of Shrewsbury,
Thomas Earl of Rutland, and George Earl of Huntingdon, and briefly
ordered the rebels to depart to their houses[661]. The herald told the
rebels that Shrewsbury was prepared to fight them on Ancaster Heath if
they disobeyed[662]. It is not known what further arguments he used, but
after much persuasion the commons agreed to go home, while the gentlemen
made a formal submission[663] and repaired to Suffolk to sue for
pardon[664]. There was still a party which was eager to fight. Its
leader, Robert Leache, seized the gentlemen’s written submission, and
opened and read it before it was delivered to the herald, “saying he
would see what their answer was ere it should depart.”[665] With the
usual irony of slow-fingered indifference the painters had ready that
day the banner which the insurgents had designed for themselves. It was
a linen cloth on which were painted “the Five Wounds of Christ, a
chalice with the Host, a plough and a horn with a scripture.” The Five
Wounds were to show the people they fought in Christ’s cause; the
chalice and the Host were in remembrance that chalices, crosses, and
church jewels should be taken away; the plough was to encourage the
husbandmen; the horn, according to the Horncastle men, was in token of
Horncastle, but others regarded it as a symbol of the tax on horned
cattle[666].
The news of the herald’s success was sent to Suffolk, and he wrote to
the King asking for instructions. He was expecting to effect a junction
with Shrewsbury on the following Monday[667]. Most of the money had
arrived[668], and the ordnance was looked for next day (Friday). He
wished to know whether he and the Lord Steward should pardon the
Lincolnshire men and advance at once into Yorkshire, or stay and reduce
Lincolnshire to complete submission by severity. He pointed out that the
Yorkshire rebellion was spreading fast and had better be confronted
immediately, and that by an advance the royal troops could prevent a
meeting between the Yorkshiremen and any new rebels in Lincolnshire. He
wrote at midnight, and in the midst of his letter the Dymmokes arrived
at the camp accompanied by a messenger from the other gentlemen, who was
commissioned to ask Suffolk whether they should come to him in harness
and to beg for his intercession with the King. He replied that they must
use their own discretion; he could only keep them in surety until the
King’s pleasure was known[669].
On Friday 13 October the last of the insurgents dispersed[670]. They
despatched the bailly of Barton to Beverley—the last messenger from the
Lincolnshire host—to countermand Kyme’s message[671]. The men of
Horncastle marched sadly home and placed their new unneeded banner in
the parish church[672]. All Suffolk’s ordnance had now arrived, and
though he had only 5000 men he discharged 2000, as he had not enough
arms to supply both his own men and Shrewsbury’s; he thought such a sign
of confidence would make an impression on the rebels. He sent word to
Shrewsbury to advance next day to meet him, but the Earl replied that he
could not leave Nottingham without money, and that he wished to know
what the King had to say to Lancaster Herald’s report before anything
more was attempted[673]. Shrewsbury wrote at the same time to Darcy, and
sent him a copy of the proclamation which had had such effect in
Lincoln. He said that the rebels now “mind themselves to be the King’s
true and faithful subjects at all times and from time to time
accordingly.” As they would give no further help to the Yorkshiremen,
but on the contrary had promised to stop the boats on the Humber, Ouse,
and Trent, “so that none shall come over but be glad to return homewards
like fools,” he trusted that the disturbances in Yorkshire would
cease[674].
At this point we must return to Lord Hussey, who had gone straight to
Shrewsbury’s camp after his escape from Sleaford. He reached Nottingham
on the morning of Monday 9 October, bringing with him his wife and
George Hudswell. Instead of finding himself in safety among friends he
had only left one atmosphere of danger and suspicion to enter another.
Shrewsbury’s doubts of his loyalty sprang from the constant reports that
he had joined the rebels. Depositions against him had been taken as
early as the 7th[675]; when Norfolk heard the false report that he was
with the rebels he wrote to the King, “if it be true there is folly upon
folly. I pray God there be truth though there be much folly.”[676]
Hussey’s own family unintentionally strengthened the feeling against
him. Fitzwilliam advised Cromwell to examine Sir William Hussey as to
why he had not reported to the Council the seditious words which,
according to his servant’s report, he had heard between Lincolnshire and
London[677]. On their arrival at Nottingham Lady Hussey created a very
unfavourable impression when she implored the Earls of Shrewsbury and
Huntingdon to allow her husband to return to Lincolnshire for the sake
of the children she had left at Sleaford; “like a fool saying that if
she brought me not again the rebels would burn my house and them,” said
her naturally aggrieved husband[678]. No doubt the poor lady was in
great anxiety, and he had brought her with him much against her will.
George Cutler, who had carried Hussey’s messages to the rebels, was
examined that day[679].
The principal evidence as to Lord Hussey’s conduct lies in two undated
papers, which were probably drawn up about the end of the week. One is
his own statement to the Council, whom he begged to intercede for him
with the King. After giving an account of the week’s events at Sleaford,
he concluded with the assertion that he had 300 men now in the King’s
service, 200 under the command of his son, and eight score under Anthony
Ireby; that he remained at Sleaford to stay the country, and that while
he was there neither Holland nor Kesteven rose[680]. The other document
is the deposition of Robert Carre of Sleaford, the head of the principal
local family[681]. The two accounts agree very closely as to the facts,
but differ completely in the interpretation put upon them. Lord Hussey
represented himself as pacifying those who urged him to join the rebels;
Carre accused him of sending away men who offered to fight for the King;
for example, “Before the rebels came to Sleaford, the bailiff of
Ruskington offered to be, with as many as he could get, under Hussey’s
command; and my Lord pinched him by the little finger, bidding him come
when he sent unto him by that token and not else.” At the end of his
deposition, which is mutilated, there seem to have been other instances
of persons who offered their services to Lord Hussey and “had slender
answers.”[682] This account is to some extent confirmed by the saying of
Richard Burwell, constable of Potter Hanworth, that he asked counsel of
Mr Robert Sutton, who answered that he had been with Lord Hussey and
could see no remedy but to do as the commons did[683].
Against this must be set Hussey’s account of the position; Lord Clinton
had fled, the gentlemen returned slack answers to his summons, and he
did not believe that he could raise enough men to resist the rebels, but
by his influence he was able to keep his own people from rising, while
if like Lord Borough and Lord Clinton he had fled at the first alarm,
they would have joined the rebels at once[684]. There seems to be little
doubt that this was really Hussey’s belief, and in itself it was quite
reasonable. There are two points which tell against Carre’s evidence. In
the first place he had been for some days with the rebels,—against his
will as he said,—but still the fact was enough to hang him. In the
circumstances he would probably be ready to say anything that his
examiners wished him to say, and particularly ready to incriminate
somebody else. In the second place the whole deposition is conceived in
a spirit of the bitterest hatred of Hussey, perhaps on account of some
forgotten local quarrel, perhaps from a feeling that Hussey had deserted
Sleaford and brought its inhabitants into danger. In one place Carre
says “If my lord had gathered men for the King as he had done for his
own pomp to ride to sessions or assize, he might have driven the rebels
back,” an obviously foolish and spiteful remark[685]. The offer of help
which he mentions came too late, when the rebels were approaching the
town and Hussey had prepared for flight. Carre’s deposition seems to
have been the chief evidence against Hussey, and at the end of it are
written the ominous words, “My lord Hussey, this is perused
deliberately.” All things considered, the only charge which could be
substantiated against Hussey was that he had made himself singular by
remaining at his post longer than the neighbouring noblemen.
On Wednesday 11 October the King did not yet know of the Yorkshire
insurrection, and though the issue in Lincolnshire was still doubtful,
he put a bold face on the matter and wrote to the ambassadors in France,
Gardiner and Wallop, such an account of the rebellion as he wished to
circulate in foreign courts. The rebels were chiefly boys and beggars,
who had been deceived by the false rumours of traitors. He had sent an
army under the Duke of Suffolk, which would by this time have disposed
of them, and “according to ancient custom” had levied another of “pure
tried men” which could not number less than 40,000 and had been conveyed
to Ampthill in six days, “and yet the greater part of our realm is not
touched.”[686] This was a rather loose statement on the King’s part,
though no doubt good enough for foreign consumption; the first levies at
Ampthill had been summoned on the 5th and 6th and had marched to
Huntingdon with Fitzwilliam on the 9th, while the second levies, which
were just being assembled by Norfolk and others, were summoned on the
10th to be at Ampthill on the 16th[687]. Suffolk’s letters of the 12th
were not despatched until after midnight; consequently the news of the
“sparpling” of the rebels cannot have been generally known in London on
the 13th. It was probably on this day that Chapuys’ nephew sent an
account of the rising to the Regent of the Netherlands. He refers to the
events of the 12th, but not to the rebels’ capitulation. He gives an
amusing account of the progress of affairs,—as they were unofficially
reported in London. The King’s commissioners, he said, were demolishing
400 (really 40) abbeys in Lincolnshire, when the peasants rose against
them on Monday 2 October “under the leading of a shoemaker named William
Keing Hardy, a man of persuasive manner.” This must be our old friend
Nicholas Melton, Captain Cobbler, but it is impossible to say where
Chapuys’ nephew picked up the extraordinary name. The rebels tried to
seize Dr Legh, “a man much hated by the whole country for his arrogance
ever since he dared to cite before the Archbishop of Canterbury your
late aunt the Queen of England.” But Legh escaped, and in their
disappointed rage the commons seized and hanged his cook. There is
nothing in the depositions about the rebellion to confirm this story.
Chapuys also repeats the tale about a man being baited to death, and
mentions the rumour of a rising further north, and the execution of two
men at Windsor for seditious words. He describes the murder of the
Bishop of Lincoln’s chancellor, and attributes the commons’ hatred of
the bishop, to the fact that they regarded him “as one of the principal
councillors who raised scruples in the King to repudiate your said
aunt.” The numbers of the host increased rapidly, and they began to take
and swear the gentlemen; “and from that time the said shoemaker began to
wear a cloak of crimson satin, embroidered with the words “Je ayme Dieu
le roy et le prouffit du commung.”[688] The arrival of the news in
London and the King’s preparations are next described. “On Saturday (7
October) they (the rebels) were more than 50,000, and among them over
10,000 priests, monks and religious persons of whom the most learned
continually admonish their men to continue the work begun, pointing out
the advantages which will come to them of it.” The writer himself saw
the ordnance taken out of the Tower and the break-down which occurred.
The King is levying musters in Kent and the southern counties, but there
is great danger that his own men will turn against him, as they
sympathise with the demands of the rebels, saying “that they wish to
live like their ancestors, defend the abbeys and churches, be quit of
taxes and subsidies, and recover those they have paid already more by
fear than love, especially that which they lent in the time of the
Cardinal, which amounts to a very horrible sum. Finally they demand a
shearer of cloths to be given up to them, meaning Cromwell, and a
tavernkeeper, meaning the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Chancellor of
the country, the Chancellor of the Augmentations, and certain other
bishops and lords of the King’s Council.” The King is taking men from
Dover and Sandwich, which will weaken the coast defences and make an
invasion easy. The French tailors and Flemish shoemakers in London are
being compelled to serve in the army for two groats a day, and one groat
as drink money for every five miles they march, while the English
receive only 6_d._ and the same drink money. He concludes by pointing
out that such a chance may not come again for avenging all the wrongs
that Henry has inflicted on the faith and family of the Emperor; he
therefore implores the Regent to send from the army now in Zealand 2000
arquebusiers and a supply of ammunition, which should be landed “in the
river which goes up to York.”[689] Needless to say, this advice was not
acted upon.
By the next day, Saturday 14 October, Lancaster Herald was with the
King, and the news from Lincolnshire must have been generally known. For
the first time since the beginning of the rebellion all parties halted,
and nothing was done until the 15th, Sunday, when the King, believing
all danger at an end, sent out orders countermanding the musters at
Ampthill[690]. Suffolk would delay his advance no longer, but set out
for Lincoln, and sent a message to Shrewsbury to do the same. He was
obliged to advance slowly, as he took the ordnance with him[691]. He
received from the King instructions to occupy Lincoln and to collect
there the arms of the rebels[692]; with these orders came a proclamation
by which the King accepted the surrender and promised to show
mercy[693]. The gentlemen were to be examined, and their examinations
returned in writing to the King; they might then be dismissed with good
words, except the most culpable, who were to be sent up to London.
Suffolk was to establish order in the shire, and to survey the Cathedral
and the Close secretly, as the King thought of placing a garrison there,
“to keep them in mind that their forefathers were traitors and for the
keeping under of their posterity.” If the country submitted there was to
be no pillaging, but four captains of Louth, three of Horncastle, and
two of Caistor must be kept for execution. Suffolk might expect
reinforcements, and was to remain at Lincoln until he received further
orders. If all was quiet when he received this letter, he need not
publish the proclamation, but the King “took the sending of the herald
in good part,” for the people respected his coat and he could see more
than an ordinary spy. Shrewsbury was to join Suffolk in examining the
traitors, and then to disperse his troops and go quietly home, if all
went well, but if there were further disturbances in Yorkshire, he was
to advance at once to suppress them, taking with him the ordnance, as
Suffolk could be supplied with more from Ampthill[694]. The order to
Shrewsbury shows that the King was still over-confident. It was
Shrewsbury’s rash advance, in obedience to it, which afterwards
seriously embarrassed the position of the royal troops.
Suffolk sent forward the Admiral with an advance guard, and on Tuesday
17 October was himself at Lincoln. His sudden appearance put an end to
the last plans of resistance which the rebels still cherished. Richard
Cromwell said that the people of Lincoln were “as obstinate persons as
ever I saw, who would scarce move their bonnets to my said lord, and
probably would have withstood us if we had not stolen upon them.”[695]
In his next despatches Suffolk explained to the King that the situation
was not so secure as Henry had assumed in his first relief,—the country
was still very much unsettled, and beacons were lighted and men
assembled in harness on the least provocation. He had ordered the
release of Milsent and Bellowe from Louth Tollbooth, but their jailor
was obliged to promise that they should be restored on demand before the
commons would let them go[696]. On Wednesday 18 October he sent Sir
Francis Brian to make a full report to the King. Sir Francis reached
Windsor next day, just as a reply was being drawn up to Suffolk’s
previous letters, in which he was thanked for his diligence and promised
money, ordnance and men, under the command of Sir Anthony Browne. If any
further rising was attempted he must immediately attack Louth and “with
all extremity destroy, burn and kill man, woman and child, the terrible
example of all others.” Sir Francis, however, must have explained that
if it came to fighting it was by no means certain that the terrible
example would not be, so to speak, on the other foot, as Suffolk had
only 3000 men of certain loyalty in the heart of a hostile country; the
King’s postscript, therefore, took a milder tone. Sir John Thimbleby and
the other gentlemen were to be told that he “minded nothing less (i.e.
nothing was further from his thoughts) than their destruction.” All the
gentlemen who would come in and serve the King might be promised safety
from bodily hurt and the Duke’s intercession with the King; proclamation
must be made that the multitude could obtain the same terms, if they
would denounce their captains and give them up. The King also, at last,
sent an answer to the commons’ petition which had been sent to him on
the 9th. It was to be read openly, and he complacently added that he
thought it was “so conceived as of itself to make them repent their
follies and ask mercy without further tarrying.”[697] The answer was as
follows:
“Answer to the Petitions of the Traitors and Rebels in Lincolnshire.
“First, We begin and make answer to the 4th and 6th articles, because
upon them dependeth much of the rest. Concerning choosing of
Councillors, I never have read, heard, nor known that princes’
councillors and prelates should be appointed by rude and ignorant
common people; nor that they were persons meet, or of ability, to
discern and choose meet and sufficient councillors for a prince. How
presumptuous then are ye, the rude commons of one shire, and that one
of the most brute and beastly of the whole realm, and of least
experience, to find fault with your prince, for the electing of his
councillors and prelates; and to take upon you, contrary to God’s law,
and man’s law, to rule your prince, whom ye are bound by all laws to
obey, and serve, with both your lives, lands, and goods, and for no
worldly cause to withstand: the contrary whereof you, like traitors
and rebels, have attempted, and not like true subjects, as ye name
yourselves.
“As to the suppression of religious houses and monasteries, We will
that ye, and all our subjects should well know, that this is granted
us by all the nobles, spiritual and temporal, of this our realm, and
by all the commons of the same by Act of Parliament; and not set forth
by any councillor or councillors, upon their mere will and fantasy, as
ye full falsely would persuade our realm to believe. And where ye
allege, that the service of God is much thereby diminished, the truth
thereof is contrary; for there be none houses suppressed, where God
was well served, but where most vice, mischief, and abomination of
living was used: and that doth well appear by their own confession,
subscribed with their own hands, in the time of our visitations. And
yet were suffered a great many of them, more than we by the act
needed, to stand; wherein, if they amend not their living, we fear we
have more to answer for, than for the suppression of all the rest. And
as for their hospitality, for the relief of poor people, we wonder ye
be not ashamed to affirm, that they have been a great relief to our
people, when a great many, or the most part, hath not past four or
five religious persons in them, and divers but one, which spent the
substance of the goods of their house, in nourishing of vice, and
abominable living. Now, what unkindness and unnaturality may we impute
to you, and all our subjects, that be of that mind, that had lever
such an unthrifty sort of vicious persons should enjoy such
possessions, profits, and emoluments, as grow of the said houses, to
the maintenance of their unthrifty life; than we, your natural prince,
sovereign lord, and king, which doth and hath spent more in your
defence, of his own, the six times they be worth!
“As touching the Act of Uses, we marvel what madness is in your brain,
or upon what ground ye would take authority upon you, to cause us to
break those laws and statutes, which, by all the nobles, knights, and
gentlemen of this realm, whom the same chiefly toucheth, hath been
granted and assented to; seeing in no manner of thing it toucheth you,
the base commons of our realm! Also the grounds of those uses were
false, and never admitted by any law, but usurped upon the prince,
contrary to all equity and justice, as it hath been openly both
disputed and declared, by all the well learned men of England in
Westminster Hall; whereby ye may well perceive, how mad and
unreasonable your demands be, both in that, and the rest, and how
unmeet it is for us, and dishonourable, to grant or assent unto, and
less meet and decent for you, in such rebellious sort, to demand the
same of your prince.
“As touching the Fifteenth, which ye demand of us to be released,
think ye that we be so faint hearted, that, perforce, ye of one shire
(were ye a great many more) could compel us with your insurrections,
and such rebellious demeanour, to remit the same? or think ye that any
man will or may take you to be true subjects, that first make a show
of a loving grant, and then, perforce, would compel your sovereign
lord and king to release the same; the time of payment whereof is not
yet come? yea, and seeing the same will not countervail the tenth
penny of the charges, which we do, and daily must, sustain, for your
tuition and safeguard? Make ye sure, by your occasions of this your
ingratitudes, unnaturalness, and unkindness to us, now administered,
ye give us cause, which hath always been as much dedicate to your
wealths, as ever was king, not so much to set our study for the
setting forward of the same, seeing how unkindly and untruly ye deal
now with us, without any cause or occasion. And doubt ye not, though
ye have no grace nor naturalment in you, to consider your duties of
allegiance to your king and sovereign; the rest of our realm, we doubt
not, hath: and we, and they, shall so look on this cause, that we
trust shall be to your confusion, if, according to our former letters,
ye submit not yourselves.
“As touching the First Fruits, we let you weet, it is a thing granted
us by Act of Parliament also, for the supportation of part of the
great and excessive charges, which we support and bear, for the
maintenance of your wealths, and others our subjects. And we have
known, also, that ye, our commons, have much complained, in times
passed, that the most of the goods, lands, and possessions of the
realm were in the spiritual men’s hands; and yet now, bearing us in
hand that ye be as loving subjects to us as may be, ye can not find in
your hearts that your prince and sovereign lord should have any part
thereof, (and yet it is nothing prejudicial unto you, our commons;)
but do rebel and unlawfully rise against your prince, contrary to your
duty of allegiance, and God’s commandment. Wherefore, sirs, remember
your follies and traitorous demeanours, and shame not your native
country of England, nor offend no more, so grievously, your undoubted
king and natural prince, which always hath showed himself most loving
unto you; and remember your duty of allegiance, and that ye are bound
to obey us, your king, both by God’s commandment and law of nature.
Wherefore we charge you eftsoons, upon the forsaid bonds and pains,
that ye withdraw yourselves to your own houses every man, and no more
assemble contrary to our laws and your allegiances; and to cause the
provokers of you to this mischief to be delivered to our lieutenants’
hands, or ours, and you yourselves to submit you to such condign
punishment as we, and our nobles, shall think you worthy. For doubt ye
not else that we and our nobles can nor will suffer this injury at
your hand unrevenged, if ye give not place to us your sovereign, and
show yourselves as bounden and obedient subjects, and no more to
intermeddle yourselves from henceforth with the weighty affairs of the
realm; the direction whereof only appertaineth to us your king, and
such noblemen and councillors as he list to elect and choose to have
the ordering of the same. And thus we pray unto Almighty God to give
you grace to do your duties, and to use yourselves towards us like
true and faithful subjects, so as we may have cause to order you
thereafter; and rather obediently to consent amongst you to deliver
into the hands of our lieutenant 100 persons, to be ordered according
to their demerits at our will and pleasure, than by your obstinacy and
wilfulness to put yourselves, lives, wives, children, lands, goods,
and chattels, besides the indignation of God, in the utter adventure
of total destruction and utter ruin by force and violence of the
sword.”[698]
So ended the insurrection in Lincolnshire, for there is nothing more to
tell of it but the King’s revenge. It was a most curious movement, both
in its sudden outbreak and its still more sudden collapse. It is not
surprising that it should have been attempted, but it is that it should
have failed so completely. The secret of this failure seems to be
twofold. The most obvious weakness was that it had no leader. Perhaps it
would have been better if the commons had trusted solely to their own
leaders, Captain Cobbler, William Morland, and the others. Knowing that
they were committed to the cause, they gave themselves up to it heart
and soul, while the gentlemen upon whom the commons attempted to force
the responsibility were at best only half-hearted. But the lack of a
leader was only a symptom of their real weakness, namely, that they had
no definite object in view. The rising was not simply religious, or
agrarian, or political, but a little of each. It was as much against an
unpopular tax and an unpopular bishop as against the King’s religious
policy and his chief minister. The rebels protested against the
dissolution of the monasteries, but the vital question of the Royal
Supremacy was only mentioned once, and then the rebels expressed their
willingness to acknowledge the title[699]. The gentlemen hated Cromwell
and the Statute of Uses, but they wavered on the question of the abbeys,
and were very much afraid of the commons and of civil war. These jarring
forces could only be united into an effective opposition by the
inspiration of a great leader or a great cause; this was the lesson
which the Lincolnshire failure taught, and one man at least learnt from
it. In many respects the earlier rising was a hindrance to the
Pilgrimage of Grace,—it gave confidence to the government, and confirmed
the waverers in the conviction that the King would win in the end,—but
his connection with it showed Robert Aske what to avoid. He saw that
half-hearted leaders were worse than useless, and he saw also that the
only common ground on which all parties could meet was that of religion.
Himself sincerely attached to the old faith, he insisted on it as the
cause and the sole cause of the insurrection which he led; hence the
curious form of his oath—“we rise not for the common weal, but in
defence of the Church.” His banner did not bear the motley crowd of
symbols which the men of Horncastle devised, but simply the Five Wounds
of Christ. If he could inspire in others the enthusiasm which he himself
felt for that badge, they would lose sight of their conflicting
interests, and gentlemen and commons would fight side by side, without
thought of high or low. This was what Robert Aske learnt from the
Lincolnshire rebellion. It remained to be seen whether he could put it
into practice.
NOTES TO CHAPTER VI
Note A. The attitude of the Lincolnshire gentlemen bears a strong
resemblance to that of the German nobles who were compelled to join
the peasants in 1525. “Princes, lords and ecclesiastical dignitaries
were being compelled far and wide to save their lives, after their
property was probably already confiscated, by swearing allegiance to
the Christian League or Brotherhood of the peasants and by
countersigning the Twelve Articles and other demands of their
refractory villeins and serfs.”[700]
The peasants captured Gotz von Berlichingen of the Iron Hand and
compelled him to become their leader[701]. “Had Gotz been sincere in
taking up the cause of the rebellion, there is no doubt that,
experienced warrior as he was, he would have been a valuable
acquisition. Even as it was some of his suggestions respecting the
maintenance of discipline were in the right direction, but the fact
remained that he was acting under compulsion in a cause with which he
had no sympathy and his one concern was to get rid of his
responsibility at the first possible moment, if not actually to betray
his trust.”[702]
Note B. Moigne’s statement refutes Williams’ scoffing remarks about
the Lincolnshire gentlemen, for it shows that Moigne at least was a
very able man. Spirited as it is, there is an air of special pleading
about it,—the facts are given, but a particular construction is put
upon them. It would be very interesting to compare this with some
other narrative of the same events, but no other remains. Examinations
of the other Lincolnshire gentlemen seem to have been taken, but are
not preserved, and perhaps very little inquiry was made into the
affair of the Chapter House, as it reflected too much credit on the
loyalty of the gentlemen to be acceptable to the King. The only other
reference to it is in an accusation brought against James Atkinson, a
tailor, the man who cried out that they ought to kill some of the
justices.
Note C. Although Henry exaggerated the number of his forces and the
speed with which they had been collected, it is too much to say, with
Tierney and Gasquet, that “no such army ever existed.” The main facts
that the King had levied and sent north one body of troops and was
busy levying another were perfectly correct.
Note D. Another allusion to Captain Cobbler’s robe occurs in a letter
of Wriothesley’s to Cromwell, written on Monday (23 Oct.), in which,
speaking of the Lincolnshire prisoners, he says, “I perceive, also,
his highness would have that traitor in the motley coat well examined,
for he (the King) took that part also very well; yet we have no
further news.”[703] The leaders of the German peasants wore gorgeous
clothes—“a red hat and mantle,” “purple mantles and scarlet birettas
with ostrich plumes,”[704]—but the English commons, except in this
case, did not affect such finery.