days, was the proud and magnificent Bishop of Durham, Anthony de Beck,
Patriarch of Jerusalem, and Lord of the Isle of Man. At Falkirk he drew an
unrighteous sword against Wallace and the Scottish patriots. Previous to
the battle he celebrated a soldier's mass on the field, clothed in
knightly mail as he was, the long kite-shaped shield slung over his
shoulder, the sword girt at his thigh. The ceremony over, he was ready to
charge Wallace's schiltrons and archers, but the first column preceded
him, led by the Earl Marshal, and Lincoln, and Hereford. He saw man and
horse impaled on the huge Scottish spears, and the charging files rolled
back in blood, while the Scottish arrows drifted into their ranks. He
appreciated the valour of the enemy, and proposed to await the arrival of
the numerous archers, who would speedily, and with little loss to
themselves, shoot down the Scottish schiltrons. The men-at-arms were,
however, eager to close, and Rudulf Basset scornfully advised the Lord
Bishop to stick to his mass, while he led the charge. Thus rebuked, the
bishop gave the word, leading, sword-in-hand, and furiously assailed the
Scottish left, to be hurled back, again and again. The treacherous retreat
of the Scottish cavalry left the schiltrons exposed to certain
destruction, and the English archers shot them down without mercy.
When Edward III. lay before Calais, he paid Thomas Hatfield, Bishop of
Durham, 6s. 8d. per day, and his following in proportion, viz.:--three
bannerets at 4s., 48 knights at 2s., 164 esquires at 12d., 81 archers on
horseback at 6d. each per day.
Perhaps the most notable of the fighting bishops was Henry Spencer, of
Norwich. When the whole of England lay in panic terror at the mercy of the
revolted villeins, when drawbridges were raised, gates closed, and knights
and nobles hid themselves behind stone walls, Henry Spencer bade trumpets
sound, and sallied forth with his men-at-arms, attacking the marching
peasants wherever he met them. Emboldened by his example, a few gentlemen
associated themselves with him, and he extended his operations to
Cambridge and Huntingdon, which were soon pacified. When John Littester,
the dyer, leader of the Norfolk villeins, despatched deputies to the king,
the alert bishop intercepted them, and incontinently struck off their
heads. A body of the villeins had entrenched themselves at North Walsham.
Spencer marched against and stormed their position, being the first to
enter, sword-in-hand. A furious and protracted conflict followed, ending
in the defeat of the peasants, who were pursued and cut to pieces with
unsparing severity. Those spared of the sword and lance Spencer strung up
to the nearest tree, first receiving their hurried confession, then
granting them absolution. He dispersed the revolted peasantry of Suffolk,
and set a marked example to the nobility.
During these events, that man of many enemies, John of Gaunt, had retired
into Scotland. So obnoxious was he to the peasantry, that when his wife,
Constance of Castille, sought refuge in his Castle of Pontefract, the
cowardly retainers refused to admit her, and she had to proceed through a
wild country, by torchlight, for night had closed in, to her lord's Castle
of Knaresborough, where she found a safe haven until Lancaster's return.
The ambitious prelate soon found a wider field for his arms.
When, in consequence of a division among the cardinals, two rival popes
were elected, Urban VI. and Clement VII., Europe divided on the question,
and France and England were naturally in opposition, the former power
giving its adhesion to Clement, the latter to Urban, for England feebly
strove to retain some portion of the conquests of Edward III. and the
Black Prince. Clement, defeated, found refuge at Avignon, and, obedient to
his protector, preached a crusade against Richard II. and the English.
Urban excommunicated Clement as an anti-pope, and commissioned Bishop
Spencer to conduct a crusade against him. The bishop found numerous
enthusiastic supporters, and parliament met to consider whether they
should ally themselves with the Flemings, or co-operate with Lancaster,
from Spain, against the national enemy. The former scheme was adopted, but
the French overran Flanders, and beleagured Ghent, the only town that held
out against them. Immediate and energetic action was demanded, and the
council resolved to support the bishop, who proposed to drive the French
out of Flanders, and then carry the war into their own country. For this
purpose certain subsidies were be paid to him.
The bishop, however, altered his mind, and proposed, in return for the
fifteenth granted by the laity, to serve one year with 2,500 men-at-arms
and 2,500 mounted archers. His offer being accepted, William de Beaucham
was appointed his lieutenant, and in the month of May, 1383, he carried a
body of troops, and numerous volunteers, to Calais, where he awaited the
arrival of his lieutenant with the remainder of the forces. These were
delayed, it was alleged by the design of John of Gaunt, and the bishop had
no alternative but to employ his headstrong and impatient crusaders.
Gravelines was assaulted, and carried.
Dunkirk immediately surrendered, but the Count of Flanders, engaged in the
interests of France, marched against the crusaders. Sir Hugh de Calverley
had reinforced the bishop, and a battle ensued, resulting in the defeat of
the enemy, and the surrender of Cassel, Dixmuyde, Bourburg, Newport, and
Popperen.
The King of France hastily took the field with 100,000 men, for the
position appeared alarming. Norwich had also received succours, forwarded
by that gallant merchant, Sir John Philpot, but the new crusaders were
rogues and miscreants of the darkest stain, and were influenced by the
prospect of unbounded licence and plunder. In his vexation, Spencer
requested Philpot to suspend his supply of naked ruffians, but he had to
put a bold face on, and match his 90,000 soldiers, crusaders, and thieves,
against the army of France. There was, however, a difference of opinion,
amounting to a mutiny in the army, and the mortified bishop found himself
constrained to besiege Ypres. Several furious assaults were delivered, but
the steady courage of the veteran garrison, posted behind strong defences,
foiled the fury of the ill-conducted attacks, and the depression of defeat
rested upon the army, which avenged itself by casting off all restraint,
and spreading over the country for the purpose of plunder, while the
pilgrims deserted in large numbers. The French army approached, and the
bishop beat a hasty retreat to Dunkirk, leaving his materials of war
behind. Bourburg was occupied by Sir Hugh de Calverley and Sir Thomas
Trivet, and the King of France closed them in, threatening to put every
man to the sword if the place was not immediately surrendered. The threat
was vain, and twice the French fell on, to be bloodily repulsed, when King
Charles tendered the garrison quarter, and they marched out and proceeded
to Calais. From Bourburg the King carried his army to Gravelines, where he
found every prospect of a tough struggle, and wisely concluded to treat
rather than fight. The bishop took time to consider the terms proposed,
and sent messages to King Richard for succours; but before troops could be
collected and embarked, the truce expired, and, agreeable to his
undertaking, the bishop dismantled Gravelines, marched the remains of his
forces to Calais, and embarked for England.
In Parliament he met with a warm reception for having failed to carry out
his engagements, and although his defence entitled him to an honourable
acquittal, he was found in default for not having served out his full
time, and for the insubordination of his troops. He was mulcted in a
severe pecuniary penalty, and the temporalities of his Bishopric were
seized. Several of the knights, whose insubordination had tended to
produce the miscarriage of the expedition, as Thomas Trivet, Henry
Ferners, William Ellingham, and William Harrendon, were fined and
imprisoned.
So ended the bishop's campaign, in which, however, he manifested the
spirit and capacity of a good captain, but success was, with such a
soldiery and so powerful an enemy, absolutely impossible.
Pope Martin V. was one of the most determined opponents of the Hussites,
and spared no pains in inciting Europe to move in a crusade against those
stubborn heretics, whose extermination was most ardently desired.
A.D. 1426, a crusading army was utterly defeated, with a loss of not less
than 15,000 men, before the walls of Aussig. The crusaders mustered not
less than 70,000 trained soldiers, supported by 180 pieces of artillery,
with 3,000 wagons for transport of stores. Quarter was neither given nor
accepted, and the defeated and demoralised army was closely pursued. This
memorable battle was fought on the forenoon of Sunday, the 16th of June.
"Then fourteen counts and lords of might
Did from their coursers all alight,
Their sword-points deep in earth did place
And to the Czechians sued for grace.
For prayers and cries they cared not aught,
Silver and gold they set at naught,
E'en as themselves had made reply,
So every man they did to die."
It was the inhumanity, or bigotry, of the Germans that settled the
question of quarter, raised by the Hussites before the battle, and
afterwards maintained with unsparing severity.
The Germans having failed, the Pope turned to the English, then winning
bloody laurels in France. Henry de Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, John of
Gaunt's son, and Henry IV.'s brother, was selected for the enterprise. On
receiving the Pope's bull, he prepared to raise soldiers and money for the
crusade. The preaching of the crusade in England met with little or no
response. Ready as the islanders were to exchange the rude courtesies of
warfare with their Scottish neighbours, to cross the Channel to destroy
the armies and ravage the vineyards and cornfields of France, and,
earlier, to take the crusaders' cross and embark for Palestine, it may be
questioned if they had ever a genuine disposition for fighting the battles
of the popes. Indeed the friction was rough and frequent between Rome and
Britain.
In the city of Mechlin, Beaufort published the papal bull. It was
instantly and enthusiastically responded to. A somewhat mixed army was
assembled. The figures of the historians, 90,000 foot and 90,000 horse,
are not easily acceptable, but doubtless the army was a considerable one.
Numerous nobles and knights, including three electors of the empire,
marched with and assisted Beaufort, and strengthened the army with their
retainers. Perhaps the army lacked cohesion; no doubt its bravest soldiers
admitted the terrible might and energy of the foe. Probably those who were
not accustomed to arms--townsfolk, artisans, shepherds, and
peasants--would be easily influenced by doubt and fear when they found
themselves opposed to an enemy whose reputation for valour and severity
was so terrible.
Winchester had been created a cardinal, and the Pope's legate-a-latere,
but he was fated to attain no honour by arms.
Again invaded by a cruel and presumptuous enemy, both Catholics and
Hussites united to defend Bohemia.
In the June of 1427, the crusaders crossed the borders, and encamped
before Meiss. Although greatly inferior in numbers, the Bohemians advanced
and offered battle. The martial appearance of these iron veterans, the
knowledge of their dreadful reputation, curiously effected the crusaders.
Instead of pushing on to cross the river and open the attack, they stood
at gaze. Awed and daunted by the ominous spectacle before them, their
ranks shook with a sudden panic, weapons clashed wildly, standards went
down. Horse and foot were inextricably mixed as the first of the
panic-stricken wretches broke and fled. A dreadful scene followed. Almost
in a moment the huge army was transformed into a confused rout of
fugitives. As quickly were the waters of the Meiss darkened by the iron
ranks of the Hussites as they pressed forward, to fall upon the
panic-stricken crusaders with axe and iron-flail, sword and spear, while
bullets and arrows were poured incessantly into the flying masses, and the
fugitives fell as thick and fast as sere leaves in an autumnal gale.
The crusading army had committed many outrages during the course of its
triumphant march, and as the guilty and licentious wretches, losing all
order and cohesion, rushed madly before the flashing steel of the
pursuers, the peasantry rose against them on every side, pitiless
avengers, whose wrath could be alone satiated by blood. The whole of
Bohemia was enriched by the enormous spoil of the vanquished.
The Pope, in condoling with Beaufort, spoke hopefully of the success of a
new crusade, but the Englishman was satisfied with the extent, if not the
character, of his experience.
Richard Scrope had a brief and most unfortunate experience of military
operations. His appearance in arms was purely the result of the
complications that followed the deposition of Richard II. and the
enthronement of Bolingbroke. Lord Scrope, High Chancellor of England, had
devotedly served Edward III. and his grandson, Richard of Bordeaux, and
after that dark tragedy at Pontefract, that secured, for the time being,
the throne of Lancaster, he endowed a chantry in his castle of Bolton,
where daily service was performed for the repose of the dead king's soul.
The old man was spared, but the king's hand fell heavily upon his sons.
First to fall was the Earl of Wiltshire, who was captured in Bristol
Castle, and dragged to the block with indecent haste, and on no sufficient
cause, by Bolingbroke's command. This alone might have pre-disposed the
Archbishop to ally himself with the King's enemies, when many of the
nobles repented that they had set up the son of John of Gaunt in the place
of the son of the heroic Black Prince. The avenging of his brother's blood
could scarcely fail to influence the Archbishop, but no doubt he was
wrought upon by the King's enemies, and felt called upon, if not to avenge
the slaying of the King, at least to endeavour to correct his government,
and arrest the shedding of blood which so deeply stained the early years
of Henry's reign.
The princely power of the Archbishops in Northumbria, and the personal
esteem in which Scrope was held, made his appearance in arms peculiarly
dangerous to the King. Lord Mowbray associated himself with Scrope, and no
sooner was the standard of revolt uplifted than the hardy Yorkshiremen
flocked to support their Archbishop. Scrope published a terrible and
undeniable indictment against the blood-stained Henry. He was accused of
treason, usurpation, regicide, the withholding of the crown from the Earl
of March, the lineal heir, with other charges not to be refuted.
Ralph, Earl of Westmoreland, and Prince John, were despatched against
Scrope and Mowbray, but they found the northern army so formidable that
they dared not strike. On approaching the Archbishop they found him ready
to enter into negotiations for the correcting of the King's government,
and the Earl of Westmoreland, with a treachery that was infamous at a
time when treachery and perjury were common, pretended to grant all
Scrope's demands, and, as a ratification of the terms of pacification,
proposed the disbanding of the two armies. This was unsuspiciously acceded
to, and the northern army was immediately disbanded, although the royal
army maintained its formation. Danger of rescue past, the Earl of
Westmoreland, with infamous treachery, arrested Scrope, Mowbray, and
several of their captains. "The King was then at Pontefract, and when the
Archbishop and the other captives were brought thither to him, they were
ordered to be carried from thence to York, where they were condemned to
death by the judges, Fulford and Gascoign. Judgment was no sooner passed,
but the Archbishop was set upon a lean deformed horse, with his face
backward; and that Bishop, whose grave age commanded every man's respect,
having been always accompanied with holiness of life, incomparable
learning, and a lovely person, was now loaded with all sorts of disgrace
and reproaches, and so conducted to the place of execution, where his head
was cut off, June 8th, 1405, by an unskilful executioner, who scarcely
effected it at five strokes. He was buried on the eastern part of the new
works, where certain miracles were said to have been done by the merits of
this martyr, and the King to be smitten with an incurable leprosy. It is
certain he was the first archbishop that was condemned to death by a legal
trial. The Pope excommunicated the authors of this archbishop's death, but
was easily intreated to absolve them a little time after." To augment the
bitterness of death, Scrope was removed to his palace of Bishopthorpe for
execution, and his head was piked and exposed on the walls of York.
Mowbray, Sir Robert Plumpton, Sir John Lamplugh, and other unfortunates,
also suffered decollation.
During the great rebellion that cost Charles Stuart his crown and head,
another Archbishop of York took up arms, to figure obscurely during a
struggle in which he certainly was not called upon to assume the soldier's
painful and difficult part. A changeful and troublous history is that of
John Williams. In 1621 he was elevated to the Bishopric of Lincoln, and
Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, but his fortunes waned as Laud rose to
power; he lost the Seals, and at the coronation of Charles I. it was his
duty, as Dean of Westminster, to read divine service, but Laud took his
place. He was further affronted by being forbidden to sit in the House,
and Laud brought him into the Star Chamber for having written the "Holy
Table." He was suspended, fined L10,000, and imprisoned in the Tower
during the King's pleasure. He obtained his release November 16th, 1640.
Not unnaturally his suffering made him an object of interest to the
Puritan party, but he was loyal to Charles, and by preaching before him in
condemnation of the discipline of Geneva he won the royal favour, and he
was raised to the Archbishopric of York. The evil times had closed in, and
for leading the bishops in their protest against the House of Lords, he
was committed to the Tower, where he remained some time. Then came the
war.
When Captain Hotham and Sir Thomas Fairfax were earning their spurs by the
most daring exploits against the Royalists of Yorkshire, Hotham received
some cause for offence from the Archbishop, and irefully vowed to cut off
his head.
A friendly warning of the threat reached the Archbishop late on the 3rd of
October, and, appreciating the spirit of the young dare-devil, the prelate
left Cawood Castle in hot haste. Not long after, Hotham and his fiery
riders spurred up in hot haste, and finding their intended victim had
escaped, they solaced themselves by sacking the castle.
Joining the king at Oxford, Williams received the royal commission and
instructions, and proceeded to fortify his castle at Aberconway, but,
apparently from some unworthy suspicion of his loyalty, the king appointed
another commandant to the castle, and Williams, in deep disgust, retired
to his house at Penryn, placed it in a state of defence, and gave in his
adhesion to parliament.
Assisted by Colonel Mitton, he besieged Abergavenny, in South Wales, and
reduced the stronghold to the obedience of parliament. He expired at Lady
Mostyn's house at Gloded, on the 25th of March, 1650, being the 68th
anniversary of his birth.
Thus an old Yorkshire history: "While he was in his greatness, he was
characterized a person of a generous mind, a lover and encourager of
learning and learned men (being himself very learned), hospitable and a
great benefactor to the public; but when, through anger and disgust, he
sided with the parliament and Puritans, he was styled by the Royalists a
perfidious prelate, the shame of the clergy, and the apostate archbishop,
which how much he deserved, considering his provocations, let the reader
judge. He hath many things in print, etc." Lord Campbell adds this tribute
to the memory of this unfortunate prelate, for truly unfortunate he must
be esteemed, "He will always be memorable in English history, as the last
of a long line of eminent ecclesiastics, who, with rare intervals, held
for many centuries the highest judicial office in the kingdom, and
exercised a powerful influence over the destinies of the nation."
Such are a few of the romantic and interesting facts relating to the
military experience of English bishops, which are scattered through the
pages of our national history. In some cases we cannot blame, in others we
must actually applaud, our fighting bishops for patriotism, courage, and
conduct of no common order; and where we may be disposed to censure, we
may justly pause, and weigh the character of the times, the usages of the
church, and admit that in their day and generation, they were not acting
so opposite to their character and profession as we may be disposed to
regard them, if we do so from the higher spiritual conditions of our own
more favoured and settled times.
The Cloister and its Story.
BY S. W. KERSHAW, F.S.A.
"The treasures of antiquity laid up
In old historic rolls I opened."
--BEAUMONT.
Fair and famed are the monastic ruins of our land, from Fountains and
Rievaulx among the Yorkshire dales, to Tintern on the silvery Wye, and
Netley near the placid Solent, one and all alike tell a tale of their past
annals, making up, verily, a treasured page of "Bygone England."
With these buildings are closely connected one of their great agencies,
when, as dispensers of learning, in the early ages, darkness and ignorance
was all around. Just as the legendary dictum arose, that the exquisite
lantern of Ely Cathedral became a guiding light to the traveller, in the
fens and morasses of Eastern England, so these religious homes were the
beacon spots of learning.
In that remote period of way-faring, it was the custom for some churches
to have a fire lighted in an iron framework on the top of an angle
turret, to direct the steps of the stranger, especially through those vast
woods which covered our land, and of which a famous example existed in the
forest of Galtres, in Yorkshire.
The visitor to Gloucester Cathedral will have noticed its exquisite
cloisters, and have seen the screens or "carols" where the monkish scribe
sat diligently to copy his chronicle, or the artist to illuminate its
page.
The examples at Gloucester are almost unique as an illustration, so to
speak, of the workshops of the mediaeval copyist; but a "scriptorium," or
room, was arranged in most monastic houses, as the more general place of
labour.
As the chief homes and nurseries of religion, these houses attracted their
different leaders and schools of learning. With Bede in Northumbria, and
Augustine in Kent, two great missionary scholars, the memories of ancient
lore seem to be recalled. In quick succession arose the vast abbeys of our
land, at St. Albans, Glastonbury, York, Canterbury, Lindisfarne, and
Hexham, spreading their influence far and wide, with a host of lesser
foundations. Their erection, often due to the zeal of some noted
ecclesiastic or pious layman, is closely connected with our church
history and customs, revealing many a vivid picture of olden days. Their
abbots and priors can show many illustrious names, and Matthew Paris,
Aldhelm, Bishop of Sherborne, St. Cuthbert, and William of Malmesbury, are
but a tithe of the roll-call of writers and chroniclers.
It is, however, the work which remains to this day as the evidence and
link of an almost forgotten agency, through the preservation of our early
documents, that the moving history of those times is recalled. The
"scriptorium" under the abbot's direction, with specially trained scribes,
was the great literary workroom, rules and admonitions were hung on its
walls, expressive of the care to be taken in copying, the work was
portioned out, and no monk could exchange his allotted task for another.
There were those specially selected, to insert the rubricated letters and
designs of the border page, while others prepared the vellum, or attended
to the binding. In the larger monasteries, especially of the Cistercians,
there were smaller "scriptoria" for the more learned of the community,
distinguished also by their skill and attainments.