CHAPTER XVIII

THE DUKE OF NORFOLK’S MISSION

While these things were happening in the north, the Duke of Norfolk, so

urgently needed and so long expected, was living quietly at Kenninghall

in his own county. His orders directed him to go northwards at

Candlemas, and he had no intention of stirring before that time. On 6

January 1536–7 he wrote to Cromwell; as the quarter sessions were about

to be held at Norwich, he suggested that the commissioners of the

subsidy and of the suppression who attended them should be ordered to

proceed with their work, which had been suspended during the rebellion.

The religious living in the houses which ought to be suppressed were a

great cost to the King, and if they were allowed to remain and the

subsidy was not levied, it “might put folly into the light northern

heads.”[504]

On 16 January Norfolk was with the King at Greenwich, receiving

instructions for his mission to the north. Considering that the news of

Hallam’s attempt had not yet reached the King, these instructions were

severe, and showed little prospect that the King would fulfil the

promises which he had made to Robert Aske a few days before. Norfolk was

to go to the counties recently disturbed, accompanied by a council, and

there to take such steps as the King thought necessary for their final

settlement. His first stopping-place was at Doncaster, where the most

trustworthy of the northern gentlemen would meet him. He was to

administer to them the King’s oath, and then to summon the gentlemen of

the district, and, when they had taken the oath, the commons. Everyone

must take the oath in turn, and this procedure must be followed at every

place where the Duke halted.

After Doncaster the Duke would proceed to Pontefract, and, when the West

Riding had taken the oath, to York, where he was to be met by the

remaining leaders of the Pilgrimage and all other gentlemen of

importance. Thence he would travel through all the country that had

risen, administering the oath and enlarging upon the King’s wonderful

clemency and goodness to his disobedient subjects. He was to reproach

the justices of the peace with their lack of vigilance, and to let them

see that they were blamed for the disturbances. Any loyal subjects suing

for restitution of goods taken during the period covered by the pardon

were to be put off with fair answers, and asked to wait until the coming

of the King; neither they nor the present holders of the goods must be

driven to despair.

The Duke was to make every effort to search out the beginners of the

insurrections, the devisers of the articles, and the real reasons of the

outbreak. Any man who refused to take the oath must be executed if

Norfolk dared to proceed to extremes. If the attitude of the people

forbade severity, “he shall pretend to make light of such a fool and

proceed to swearing the rest till a better opportunity.”

When the whole country was sworn, the next step was to turn out the

monks, nuns, and canons who still occupied suppressed houses, and to put

the farmers in possession. As the Duke himself had promised to make suit

to the King that they might remain till the next parliament, he was to

explain to the people “how far they vary from true religious men, yea,

from true subjects.”

Norfolk must see that the King’s rents were collected and order other

men’s tenants to pay their landlords; but he must also inquire into the

matter of enclosures and fines, hear complaints about them, and mediate

between gentlemen and tenants, in order that they “may live together as

they be joined in one body politic.” This clause in the instructions had

a double object; “the King’s instructions to Norfolk, under their fair

show of conciliatory words, by enjoining the reception of complaints

against enclosures, were deftly intended to widen the breach between the

confederated classes of the north.”[505]

As it was through ignorance that the north had been seduced into

horrible treason, the King intended “to send thither certain grave,

discreet and learned personages to teach and preach the truth” and the

Duke must recommend them to the people.

Finally Norfolk was to sit on cases of common justice, and all offenders

since the pardon were to be sought out and executed, “if it may be done

without danger, especially if they have been ringleaders.” If there was

danger, he must simply “look through his fingers at their offences, and

free them to continue till the King’s Majesty’s arrival in those parts,”

taking care that they did not fly the country[506].

The government seems to have felt the difficulty of finding a form of

words suitable for the oath which was to alter all the feelings, aims

and ideals of the Pilgrims, to make them forget their vow to God and the

Commonwealth, and to induce them to concentrate their allegiance upon

the King. The form must be as sweeping as the King dared to make it, and

yet must not go too far. The drafts of the oath remain[507], and the

last, which is the simplest, was probably the one used. “You shall swear

to be true liegeman to the King our sovereign lord, Henry VIII King of

England and of France, etc,”[508] it began, sliding over the obnoxious

title of Supreme Head of the Church, which is inserted in another draft.

Those who took the oath swore to do no treason, murder or felony, but to

discover the doers of such crimes; to renounce the oaths taken during

the insurrection, and in future to resist such movements; to be obedient

to the King, his lieutenant, and all his laws. Several irritating items

in the other drafts are omitted in this, such as expressions of

contrition and desire of forgiveness for the rising, and a declaration

of willingness to assist the commissioners in the suppression of the

abbeys. With these drafts for the oath is a set of instructions for its

administration. Every man was required to “confess and knowledge” his

traitorous demeanour and submit himself to the King’s mercy: he was then

to declare the names of the rebel leaders, and to give up his arms in

token of complete submission; finally he was to take the King’s oath and

to hold all others vain[509]. It is, however, practically certain that

these instructions were not carried out, as the Duke of Norfolk did not

disarm the north, and could not have done so without the greatest

danger.

On 16 January 1536–7 the King sent out letters to various gentlemen

ordering them to be in readiness to attend the Duke on his northern

progress[510]. One was addressed to Sir Robert Constable, who was to

meet Norfolk in York; another to Lord Darcy, who was to await him at

Pontefract[511]. Norfolk summoned Sir William Fairfax and Sir Oswald

Wolsthrope, who were trusted by the government, to meet him at Doncaster

on Candlemas Eve (1 February) with all their servants, unharnessed[512].

After his visit to court, Norfolk returned to Kenninghall to prepare for

his journey at leisure. He was there when the news of Bigod’s rebellion

reached him. All accounts agreed in attributing the new outbreak to his

long delay[513], but the Duke was not disturbed on that account; he had

his orders and he was obeying them. It is probable that he was expecting

some such news.

On 28 January old Sir Marmaduke Constable’s eldest son was with him,

bringing from the north a full account of all that had taken place. He

showed Norfolk a copy of the manifesto sent out by his uncle Sir Robert

Constable and Aske to stay the parts about Beverley. “He has written

more than I can perform,” said Norfolk in a letter to Cromwell, “and his

large sayings might be for a scant good purpose about the coronation and

parliament, etc.” Yet they were given on the authority of the King’s own

words. Norfolk congratulated Cromwell on the news. If the country were

settled before he reached the north he would grudge no man the praise;

if something were left to be done he would show his goodwill. “This

young man [Constable’s nephew] cannot speak too much good of my lord

Darcy and his uncle; sickness now hath kept them both at home, which

could not do so at the first business at Doncaster.”[514] Norfolk was in

bad health, “but desire to serve my master and anger mine enemies will,

I trust, make me shortly strong and lusty.”[515] By way of precaution he

sent to Cromwell his will and the details of a whole string of suits

which he hoped Cromwell would forward in his absence. Fortunately we

have no concern with the family affairs of the wicked old Duke. A

proverb which he quoted, “God shall send a shrewd cow short horns,”

unhappily was not true in his own case[516].

On 30 January Norfolk was in Lincoln on his way to Doncaster. Here he

met messengers with letters for the King from Hull, which he opened to

see if they contained anything urgent; but all was going well. Several

canons of Watton and others implicated in Hallam’s rebellion had been

captured. Norfolk wrote to ask the King if the prisoners should be

executed in York, and how many the King desired him to “justify.” He had

also received letters from the Bishop of Durham, Lord Scrope, and the

Earl of Cumberland. Norfolk thought that the timid bishop was

over-anxious about the state of the country, but to satisfy him he

promised to go to Newcastle-upon-Tyne after he had settled

Yorkshire[517]. Cumberland and Scrope both enclosed seditious bills, and

the latter reported from Bolton that the country was much stirred by

such writings, which “misdeedy” persons sent about, though the honest

men were content to wait for the parliament[518].

Norfolk was puzzled by learning on the road that Sir Anthony Browne had

just ridden northwards on a mission from the King. The Duke had been

told nothing of this, and as he was the King’s Lieutenant in the north,

he marvelled that the matter had not been laid before him. The Privy

Council were writing to him on the subject that same day, 30

January[519]. The office of Warden of the Marches was vacant, owing to

the ill-health of the Earl of Northumberland. The King had proposed to

bestow it on the Earl of Westmorland, but the Earl was exceedingly

anxious to escape from such a difficult and dangerous post. Henry had no

intention of increasing the Earl of Cumberland’s power, for it was

already too great for the peace of his neighbours. Therefore he

determined to adopt some old advice of Norfolk’s, and, keeping the

office of warden in his own hands, to appoint meaner men as his

deputies. He had chosen Sir William Evers and Sir John Widderington; Sir

Anthony Browne had been sent down post to receive their oaths and give

them their instructions. A later chapter will be devoted to the

government of the Borders and relations with Scotland[520], but Sir

Anthony Browne’s mission is mentioned here in order to emphasise the

double nature of Norfolk’s task. The King had entrusted to him the

subjection of the rebellious counties and the punishment of the men with

whom he was supposed to sympathise. This is the part of his duty which

concerns us at present. The King did not trust to Norfolk alone the

establishment of order on the Marches. He had not even explained to him

the new arrangements before the Duke set out, but none the less Henry

expected Norfolk to help the matter forward. He could not do without his

lieutenant, although he did not trust him. Norfolk knew how extremely

dangerous this position was. The King asked his advice, and did not take

it; the King needed his presence on the Borders for the furtherance of

his plans, but he did not confide those plans to the Duke. In Yorkshire

Norfolk knew what was expected of him and intended to do it; in

Northumberland he was to do nothing without explicit orders.

Norfolk reached Doncaster punctually on Candlemas Eve, 1 February

1536–7. He was met there by the gentlemen whom he could best trust with

their servants. Among those who welcomed him were Sir Marmaduke

Constable the younger, Sir Robert’s son, and William Babthorpe, Aske’s

kinsman. They brought a message to the Duke from Aske, who wished to

know if Norfolk desired his presence. Babthorpe wrote that night to Aske

that the Duke expected to meet him in York, but not sooner. He was not

to be disheartened if the Duke showed him “no very friendly

countenance.” It would be for certain reasons which would be opened to

him in secret. Old Sir Marmaduke Constable, who had lately been at

court, was assured that Aske possessed Norfolk’s favour and that the

King and Council esteemed his services[521].

Aske was only too anxious to believe such assurances. He had spoken to

the King, and had been convinced of his graciousness and good faith. He

had returned to the north to find the whole country equally convinced

that they had been beguiled. He was not unmoved by this; his letters to

the King himself show that he was sometimes beset by doubts, but the

belief of a man like Aske in one who has secured his loyalty and trust

is very hard to shake. When Aske used every means to quiet the

agitation, when he declared Bigod’s attempt disloyal not only to the

King but to the Pilgrims’ cause, he was pledging his honour to his

followers that the King was true. On that he staked everything,

including his life. He clung to his belief and went on hoping against

hope until the very end. Yet there was no lack of warning; the matter

was plain to all who could look on unconcerned. For example, Ralph

Sadler had carried special orders by word of mouth to Sir Thomas

Clifford, the captain of Berwick, concerning the Percys. Clifford was

first to send them letters from the King which summoned them to his

presence; if they did not immediately obey he was to arrest them and

send them by sea from Berwick to Grimsby, to avoid the danger of rescue

if they passed through the northern shires as prisoners[522].

Sir Thomas Clifford met Sadler at Newcastle-upon-Tyne on 28 January, and

was more worried than surprised by these secret instructions. The matter

had leaked out, in spite of precautions, and Sir Thomas Hilton had told

him a week before that he would be commanded to arrest the Percys. The

rumour was bruited abroad in the country, and Clifford knew that if it

came to the ears of those most nearly concerned he would be in danger of

his life. As he heard that the Percys were preparing to go to meet

Norfolk at Doncaster, he sent them the King’s letters. They had already

set out before the letters arrived, and Clifford was spared further

embarrassment, and was able to declare that he would have risked

everything to carry out the King’s commands. The royal letters reached

the Percys at Doncaster[523], and with the recklessness of their race

Sir Thomas and Sir Ingram obeyed the summons to London. They scarcely

needed the Duke’s wily encouragement, though he provided them with a

letter recommending them to the Council, which, as he was careful to

explain in another despatch, was not to be taken seriously[524]. Before

the week was out the two brothers were in the Tower. The other leaders

of the Pilgrimage did not take alarm. The Percys had behaved with utter

lawlessness, and many of their actions could not be connected with

forwarding the Pilgrims’ demands; moreover the King had special private

reasons for wishing them out of the way. Thus, no doubt, Aske and Darcy

explained the omen.

Norfolk found the north in no very settled condition when he reached

Doncaster. Even in the country round him there was much sedition. He

sent Cromwell the rhyming prophecy about “a crumb well set in a man’s

throat.”[525] Bills were posted on the church doors, but they were all

of the type described above which called upon the commons to stick

together and choose their own leaders, as the gentlemen had betrayed

them. The King’s policy was a complete success; he had broken up the

alliance of rich and poor which had brought him into danger. Norfolk

found that he could trust almost all the gentlemen and rich yeomen

“which without doubt is most principally for their own safeguards, being

in the greatest fear of the people that ever I saw.”[526] They forgot

all grievances in anxiety for their property, and welcomed Norfolk as a

saviour from general anarchy. The Duke was satisfied that all would go

well. News of abortive risings came from Cleveland, Sheriffhutton, and

Middleham, but in each case the gentlemen had dispersed the rebels

without difficulty[527]. The only serious news was from the north and

west. Northumberland was a prey to the Border thieves, but they were a

separate problem. Cumberland and Westmorland were in commotion; the

tithe barns were seized and enclosures were pulled down. A great muster

had been ordered at Richmond by the secret leaders of the commons.

Every sort of rumour agitated the country. At Cockermouth the people

said that the Duke of Norfolk would never be sent to them, for he was in

disgrace with the King[528]. In Cleveland it was rumoured that he “came

down with a great army and power to do execution, to hang and draw from

Doncaster to Berwick ... notwithstanding the King’s pardon.”[529]

Norfolk tried to inspire confidence by issuing a proclamation, as

Lieutenant-General from Trent northwards, prohibiting all assemblies,

ringing of alarm bells, lighting of beacons and setting up of bills on

posts and church doors without the King’s authority; he set forth that

Bigod and other traitors had falsely declared the King’s pardon void,

assured all men, by the King’s express command, that the pardon held

good, and offered £40 for the capture of Bigod and £20 each for that of

Leache, of Horncastle, Morland of Louth Park, and the friar of St

Robert’s of Knaresborough[530]. He thought that this proclamation would

prevent the threatened disturbances in Richmondshire[531].

Very little can be discovered about the musters at Richmond. The

depositions which remain are not so illuminating as they might be, since

the government persisted, for its own reasons, in regarding Jervaux

Abbey as the headquarters of the agitation. The monks played their part,

but the real plotters were shadowy characters who haunted the boundaries

of Yorkshire, moving from Richmond to Kirkby Stephen. Nicholas Musgrave

and Thomas Tibbey were two of these leaders on the Westmorland side.

Lobley, Servant and Hutton sent out the bills from Richmond[532].

On Saturday 3 February the bills and letters which were constantly

passing about the country took a more definite tone. These letters came

from Richmond and were passed from bailiff to bailiff; they bade every

parish send two representatives to meet at the Grey Friars’ at Richmond

on Monday 5 February, to consult “for the common wealth,” and

particularly to decide how they should treat with the Duke of Norfolk in

the matter of tithes. Collins, the bailiff of Kendal, was very earnest

in setting forward the matter in his part of the country, and sent on

the summons to Beetham, Windermere, and other parts. The meeting was

held, but Norfolk’s proclamation had reached Richmond, and the townsfolk

refused to have anything to do with the men from other districts. The

gentlemen had all gone to meet the Duke, and in consequence there was no

one in authority. The leaders of the commons proved incompetent at the

last. No conclusion was reached, and the assembly soon dispersed[533].

There are more details about the rising at Jervaux. The Abbot had lost

some sheep during the insurrection, and asked Edward Middleton, who had

been one of the rebel leaders, to seek for them, “because he was a

hunter.” About the middle of January he met Middleton in the abbey

church and asked for news of the sheep. Middleton said that he had done

his best, but he could not find them. “Ye have taken pains, although ye

could do no good,” said the Abbot, and told his “storer” to give the man

some drink money. The storer had no money, and the Abbot sent Middleton

to the cellarer, or the quondam Abbot of Fountains who was staying in

the house, to ask one of them to pay him[534]. A servant led Middleton

and Ninian Staveley, who was with him, to the quondam Abbot’s room, and

delivered the Abbot’s message that the quondam was to give the men forty

pence. William Thirsk the quondam abbot took out an angel noble and

asked Middleton to change it. Staveley snatched it and said it was

cracked. The quondam gave him another and bade him change that; but

Staveley calmly put the two nobles in his purse, saying, “Ye churls

monks, ye have too much and we have nothing, and neither of these thou

gettest again.” “Ye shall not have my money so,” cried the quondam, “If

ye be true men ye will not take my money away, and ye should have but

forty pence of me.” Middleton interfered, whispering that Staveley was

mad and that he would see the quondam’s money restored, and so they left

him[535]. According to Staveley the quondam Abbot offered them twenty

nobles to restore him to Fountains if there was a new insurrection. This

may be true or it may not. Staveley’s excuse for his violence was that

two of the monks of Jervaux, Roger Hartlepool and John Stainton, had

been urging both himself and Middleton to raise a company, fall upon the

Duke of Norfolk, and slay him, for they said that if Norfolk were

allowed to come peaceably “their abbey would be put down and they would

go a-begging.” The stories about the two nobles and the thirty sheep

point to the conclusion that Staveley and his friend were the men to

entrust with such a desperate scheme, and that they probably knew all

the bad characters in the Dales.

In January the Abbot of Jervaux had sent a servant to gather the Abbey’s

rents in Lincolnshire; the man was also to tarry about Newark until the

Duke came and bring back word as to how large a force he brought with

him. The servant did not wait long enough to see the Duke’s train, but

he returned with the news “that the Lincolnshire men were busily hanged,

and their charter stood them in no stead,” and that Norfolk was coming

to do the same in the north. This spread dismay in the country[536].

Lord Latimer left his house at Snape and with Sir Christopher Danby set

out for the court, which alarmed the commons, who were always ready to

listen to the cry that the gentlemen were betraying them, and at the

same time removed the men best able to keep order. The people were so

angry that they were ready to plunder the houses of the absentees[537].

When the news came that Norfolk had reached Doncaster, Staveley and his

accomplices determined to take action. On Sunday 4 February they set up

bills, provided by the two monks, on every church door in Richmondshire,

commanding every man between the ages of 16 and 20 to be at Middleham

Moor in harness on Tuesday next (6 February). On Monday the leaders

quarrelled among themselves, and the whole matter would have fallen

through, if the two monks had not come to Staveley’s bed at midnight, in

harness with battle-axes in their hands, and called upon him to rise and

go forward or else they would all be destroyed[538]. Staveley sent to

Middleton and they called together their friends and went to Jervaux

Abbey about midday. They bade the Abbot come forth with all his brethren

and go with them to the muster; but “the Abbot said and desired them to

be contented to leave his brethren at home and to take his servants with

them, and said further that he and all his brethren would come unto them

next day. And then he gave the company such meat and drink as he had.”

The muster at Middleham Moor was poorly attended. Staveley and his band,

the Abbot’s servants, and a few of the Abbot’s tenants of Witton were

the only companies mentioned as being present. The leaders stayed there

two or three hours, but when news came of the failure of the meeting at

Richmond on the day before they all went home[539]. The Abbot of Jervaux

fled next day to Lord Scrope at Bolton Castle; there is no proof that he

knew of the plans of his monks. Middleton and Roger Hartlepool the monk

fled to Scotland, thereby showing more prudence than the majority of the

captains[540].

On Sunday 4 February Norfolk was at Pontefract. In spite of the unruly

state of the north-west he was in good spirits, and trusted soon to have

it in more quietness. As long as the gentlemen were so thoroughly afraid

of their own tenants there was no chance of serious rebellion[541]. Lord

Latimer had been appointed to meet Norfolk in York, “but he liked so ill

his being at home” that he came to meet the Duke at Doncaster. Lord

Conyers was in doubt as to whether his people would let him leave home

at all. None of the gentlemen dared attempt to turn the religious out of

the restored abbeys; Norfolk could hardly persuade them to pursue the

leaders of the late commotions, not because they sympathised with them,

but because they were afraid the people would attack them[542].

All the country about Pontefract was in good order when Norfolk

arrived[543]. Darcy took some pride in this, but really it told against

him. If he could keep his country quiet when he liked, why had he failed

on the first rising? When Norfolk reached the castle, he found himself

in the middle of a family quarrel. Lord Darcy had come up from

Templehurst to meet him, and had joined issue with Sir George Darcy,

whom he found in possession. Lord Darcy refused to share his authority

with his son; he would be the sole keeper of the castle or not at all.

Sir George had the King’s orders and would not give way unless the Duke

commanded him to do so. In the end Norfolk decided in favour of Darcy,

who undertook to lie in the castle himself and put the King to no

expense; but Sir George was to be ready to come in with all his power at

an hour’s warning. Norfolk trusted Sir George, who would serve the King

against his father and all the world. “I pray God the father be as good

in heart as the son, which by the proof only I shall believe.”[544]

Norfolk went on to York, probably on Monday 5 February. Here he was met

by almost all the gentlemen of Yorkshire, the very men who had held the

council there as leaders of the Pilgrimage two months before. The oath

was administered in the Duke’s presence to the head men of the city and

of all the three Ridings; it was taken without the least dissent or

opposition. The gentlemen were to carry back the oath to the districts

which Norfolk did not intend to visit, but it was by no means certain

that the business would be accomplished so quietly in those parts. He

wrote to the King on 7 February from York, where he was to sit on the

indictments of eighteen persons, spiritual and temporal, on Saturday 10

February; he thought that many would be found guilty and trusted shortly

to have more[545]. On Friday the 9th, in the midst of his session work,

he found time to answer a letter from Cromwell. He was glad to receive

Cromwell’s assurances of friendship, and begged that he might soon hear

good news of his various suits and causes. In order to show that the

friendship was not all on one side, he narrated how he had “caused one

of the sheriff’s officers to be set in the pillory and for ever put out

of office for speaking ill of Cromwell. If the matter would have served

by law he should, on Tuesday next, have stretched a halter with

others.”[546]

On Saturday 10 February Sir Francis Bigod was taken by Sir John

Lamplough and a party which Norfolk had sent out to capture him on

information received from Sir Thomas Curwen[547]. Bigod was seized in “a

chapel in Cumberland” with two servants[548], and was taken to Carlisle

Castle to await Norfolk’s orders, as his captors did not dare to bring

him through Westmorland. The circumstances of his pursuit and arrest are

unknown, as they were reported to the King by word of mouth[549].

On Monday 12 February nine prisoners were arraigned before Norfolk in

York for treason. There was not yet enough evidence to convict the rest,

who remained in prison. Of the nine who were condemned, one named

Graystoke was “reprieved by desire of all the gentlemen.” Norfolk sent

Cromwell a list of the others, with the places where they were to be

executed. There were three religious, two canons of Warter who were

hanged in chains in York, and the sub-prior of Watton, who suffered at

Watton. Wyvell was hanged at Scarborough, and Fenton and Cante in York.

A yeoman called Otterburn had been the leader of an obscure rising at

Sheriffhutton some days before, and was hanged on Yersley Moor five

miles from Sheriffhutton[550]. Another man, not named on Norfolk’s list,

seems to have been executed at the same time. He was one Stokton who had

brought treasonable bills to Guisborough, “but would not say how he came

by them when he was hanged.”[551] Finally, as Staveley, Middleton and

the other Richmond leaders were not yet caught, Anthony Peacock was

hanged in chains on Richmond Moor as a warning to the district. He had

been stirring the people about Barnard Castle[552].

On Thursday 15 February Peacock was in Richmond waiting for his death.

That night half-a-dozen boon companions met at John of Blade’s alehouse

in the little village of Grinton in Swaledale. Among them was Harry

Wycliff, Sir Ralph Bulmer’s servant and brother-in-law. While they were

drinking he turned to the others and exclaimed, “Sirs, what mean ye? Is

your hearts done? Let me have 200 men and I shall give the Duke of

Norfolk an onset, and I shall either save Peacock’s life or have the

Duke’s chain (meaning to have slain him) ... with many other such

seditious words, meaning to make a new commotion.” No one was ready to

aid him in such a desperate attempt, though the men of Swaledale were

Sir Francis Bigod’s tenants and no doubt sympathised with the rebels.

Peacock was hanged next morning and no hand was raised to save him[553].

Norfolk intended to turn his attention next to the restored abbeys. He

mentioned, in a letter to the Earl of Sussex, that the gentlemen did not

dare to meddle with them. When Sussex showed the letter to the King,

Henry was especially interested in this point. He said that the

gentlemen had undertaken at Doncaster to restore his farmers to the

abbeys; “he saw not but if the gentlemen had broken promise with him, he

might much better break promise with them.” He left the matter vague,

however, saying that if all went forward satisfactorily he would not

“take any advantage thereof.”[554]

Cromwell spurred Norfolk on by hinting that he was thought to be too

warm a supporter of the old faith to deal sternly with the abbeys and

“the traitors therein.” Norfolk indignantly repudiated the accusation;

he was no “papist nor favourer of naughty religious persons.” In the

north his feelings were now so well known that he had been warned not to

eat or drink in monasteries[555]. He was going to Leeds on Tuesday 20

February, thence to Sawley Abbey, and then to Ripon[556]. As he would be

very busy, he suggested that the ordinary justices of assize, whose

arrival was almost due, should be joined in a commission with the Earls

of Cumberland and Westmorland. He thought it very necessary to have

someone to help him with the law work, for his health was bad, and it

would be a pity if the “dreadful execution” begun at York were not

carried out in other places. Norfolk was constantly expecting news of

the arrest of more ringleaders. “As concerning the monks of Sawley and

other abbeys I cannot yet speak of their offences but ere Sunday I doubt

not to do so.” The leaders in Westmorland were Nicholas Musgrave and

Thomas Tibbey, “whom I trust be taken by this time.”[557]

These two men upset Norfolk’s plans. Ever since Christmas there had been

trouble in Westmorland[558]. On Twelfth Day, 6 January 1536–7, the

deputy captain of Carlisle, Thomas Clifford the bastard, came to Kirkby

Stephen to arrest Nicholas Musgrave. Musgrave was warned and with Thomas

Tibbey he took refuge in the church steeple, so defensible a position

that Clifford was obliged to withdraw without his prisoners, “which

thing stirred the country greatly. And they sent abroad word to keep

watches in every town.” The men of Kirkby Stephen plucked down all the

enclosures in their parish, and sent orders to the surrounding parishes

to follow their example[559].

In Cumberland things were no better. The west parts “from Plumland to

Muncaster is all on floughter,” wrote Sir Thomas Curwen[560]. The chief

reason for the agitation was the departure of so many gentlemen to

court. The commons distrusted the King, who might have the gentlemen

beheaded, and they distrusted the gentlemen, who might betray them to

the King. When the gentlemen were away, the bailiffs and other officers

found it impossible to keep order[561]. As soon as he knew the state of

affairs, Norfolk urged Cromwell to send home the Cumberland gentlemen.

Sir Thomas Curwen told a story which showed the feelings of the commons.

On Saturday 13 January a servant of Dr Legh came to Muncaster. The whole

country rose and made him prisoner. He was carried to Egremont and

thence to Cockermouth. A great crowd filled the market-place, crying,

“Strike off his head!” and “Stick him!” He was searched for letters from

the King, but all that were found on him were from his master about

private matters. Nevertheless he would have been put to death; but young

John Swinburn saved him, by advising the people to spare him for a week,

during which inquiries should be made about his conduct. At the end of

the week twenty-four men might try him in open market, and if it could

be proved that he had carried letters from the King to the gentlemen, he

might be put to death. The people agreed and sent through all the

countryside to inquire if he had delivered letters. Whether he was

brought to trial or not he must have escaped death, as nothing more is

heard of him. On 18 January all the tithe barns on the south bank of the

Derwent were plundered. Private feuds were pursued as vigorously as

public grievances. Sir Thomas Curwen fled to Yorkshire because the

commons had determined to take him and force him to take the oath or

die. He went first to Sheriffhutton, then to Richmond and finally to

York, meeting with many seditious bills on the way[562].

Norfolk sent orders to Carlisle for the apprehension of Musgrave and

Tibbey[563], and accordingly Thomas Clifford set out again for Kirkby

Stephen in search of them with a troop of horse. His followers were

mosstroopers from the waters of Esk and Line, “strong thieves of the

westlands.” Musgrave and Tibbey fled to their old fastness in the

steeple, and there defied their pursuers. The townsfolk took no part

either for or against the rebels, but while Clifford and some of his men

were debating how to take their quarry, the rest of the riders,

following their inbred vocation, fell to plundering. This was more than

flesh and blood could bear. The burgesses caught up their weapons and

fell upon the spoilers, causing a timely diversion in favour of the men

in the steeple. Scattered about the narrow streets of the town, the

horsemen were at a disadvantage and soon showed that their prowess was

not equal to their thievishness. Two of the townsmen were killed in the

skirmish, but their enraged fellows drove the borderers from the town

and followed up their retreat until they were forced to take refuge in

Brougham Castle[564].

The commons saw that they were committed to a new rebellion, although

they had risen in defence of their property; indeed, a panic seems to

have spread through the countryside that they would all be treated like

the people of Kirkby Stephen. The two captains raised all the

surrounding country and sent the following summons to the bailiff of

Kendal, whom they knew to be on their side:

To the Constable of Mellynge

Be yt knowen unto you Welbelovyd bretheren in god this same xii day of

februarii at morn was unbelapped on every syde with our enimys the

Captayne of Carlylle and gentylmen of our Cuntrie of Westmerlonde and

haithe destrowed and slayn many our bretheren and neghtbers. Wherfore

we desyre you for ayde and helpe accordyng to your othes and as ye

wyll have helpe of us if your cause requyre, as god forbede. This

tuysday, We comande you every one to be at Kendall afore Eight of the

clok or els we ar lykly to be destrowed.

Ever more gentyll brether unto your helpyng honds.

Captayn of Povertie.

[_Note at the top of the sheet._] the like letter was sent to bethom

by colyns which we sent in our letters to the kinges highnes from

preston xxi march[565].

William Collins, the bailiff of Kendal, had just returned from York,

where he and other men from the town had met Norfolk[566]. The whole

country was stirring. Atkinson, Musgrave, Leache and Staveley were

issuing such bills as the one given above, urging the people “that they

should come and take their neighbours of Westmorland’s part.” Collins

forwarded such letters to the surrounding townships.

Nothing is known of the musters and counsels of the Westmorland rebels.

No gentlemen joined their ranks and very few priests. Their plans were

simple. They had long before decided that the first step in case of a

new rebellion was to seize Carlisle[567]. A new motive for this was

added by the fact that Bigod was a prisoner in the castle[568]. The idea

of a rescue always appeals to the human heart, and though a week before

everyone had been cursing Bigod, now that he was captured and his fate

assured there was a reaction in his favour. After all, everything that

he had prophesied had come to pass. Here was the Duke “busily hanging”

at York; here were loyal subjects robbed and slain in spite of the

pardon.

The town of Carlisle was little prepared to stand a siege. The walls

were out of repair and the garrison, though loyal, was not strong[569].

The gentlemen coming in with their own servants, however, soon formed a

force of five hundred or so within the city, and these troops were much

superior in arms and equipment to the six thousand commons who presently

assembled outside the walls. The rebels carried a cross as “their banner

principal.”[570] There was not a single gentleman amongst them, but

though their leaders were poor yeomen, they did not lack determination,

and were for the most part men already outlawed for their share in

earlier risings. They were in hopes of capturing men of position, and it

was said that one of the Percys would join them with a strong company.

The rumours of taxes on christenings and burials were repeated among

them and had perhaps only now reached these shires, the most remote in

the kingdom[571].

Norfolk was at Fountains when the news of the outbreak reached him on

Wednesday 14 February. He wrote to the King, and set to work to raise a

sufficient force to march against the rebels[572]. He thought that he

would be ready to set out on Saturday. On Thursday and Friday he was at

Richmond, calling in to him all the nobles and gentlemen, but not daring

to muster the commons. He was determined not to risk defeat, and laid

several plans. He sent Sir Thomas Wharton, Sir Thomas Curwen and other

Westmorland gentlemen back to their own estates to persuade their

tenants, if possible, to take the King’s part. They were to be joined by

two or three hundred light horse when Norfolk could spare the men, and

were to burn and plunder the rebels’ houses, in the hope of making them

abandon Carlisle and return to defend their own goods. Norfolk was not a

little pleased at the prospect of fighting, even under the difficulties

which burdened him. It was true that “this journey will pluck the bottom

out of my purse,” but he trusted to bring the realm to better quiet.

“Now shall appear whether for favour of these countrymen I forbare to

fight with them at Doncaster.”[573]

The success or failure of the new insurrection depended upon the part

taken by Lord Dacre’s tenants. They had not yet risen for the commons;

the Dacres, if they chose, could raise them for the King. Lord Dacre was

in the south, but his uncle Sir Christopher Dacre was at Gilsland and

wielded authority in his nephew’s absence. During the first insurrection

the Dacres had remained loyal, but had not taken an active part. Their

conduct had been most circumspect, for they lay under suspicion of

treason. Their one offence had been an outbreak of the feud with the

Cliffords and Musgraves. Was Sir Christopher’s loyalty strong enough to

urge him to rescue his blood-foes now pent by the commons within

Carlisle? The Earl of Cumberland had been ordered by the King to

reconcile himself with Dacre, but these official hand-shakings went for

nothing.

Norfolk showed his fears in a letter to Sir Christopher dated 15

February. The commons were about to assault Carlisle, and Norfolk

conjured him by their old friendship, by his hopes of the King’s favour,

by his care for his nephew’s safety to come to the relief of the city.

“I will not instruct you what ye shall do, for ye know better than I.

Spare for no reasonable wages, for I will pay all.” Let him but prove

the Duke’s saying that “Sir Christopher Dacre is a true knight to his

sovereign lord, an hardy knight, and a man of war. Pinch now no courtesy

to shed blood of false traitors; and be ye busy on the one side, and ye

may be sure the Duke of Norfolk will come on the other. Finally now, Sir

Christopher, or never.” He signed it “your loving cousin if ye do well

now, or else enemy for ever.”[574] Two copies of this letter were sent

by different hands to insure its safe delivery[575].

On the same day, 15 February, the captains of Carlisle were also writing

to Sir Christopher, but their letter was much calmer than Norfolk’s. Men

in a desperate strait do not let their enemy know that he alone can save

them. They commanded Dacre, in the King’s name, to join them at Carlisle

Castle with all the men he could trust “in goodly haste.” If he could

trust “the prickers of Gilsland,” he was to leave “the landserjeant”

with them to attack the rebels, but if the prickers would not fight for

the King, he must bring the landserjeant with him, and in any case he

must come to Carlisle himself. This was signed by Sir John Lowther,

Thomas Clifford, and John Barnfield[576].

Unfortunately there is no account of the rising written from the

commons’ point of view, nor, indeed, any full contemporary account at

all. It is extremely difficult to form a coherent idea of the fighting

round Carlisle from the scattered references which remain. The first

move of the commons is clear. On Friday 16 February they mustered on

Broadfield Moor to the number of about 6000 men, more or less

effectively armed and mounted; thence they marched to Carlisle.

A wanderer came to the Abbey of Holm Cultram, and the Abbot asked him

“What news?” “There was never such a gathering to the Broadfield as

there was that day afore,” said the other. “Almighty God prosper them,

for if they speed not, this abbey is lost,” said the Abbot. He sent his

servants out in haste to summon his tenants to the Abbey church, and

called the sub-prior to him, “and commanded him to cause the brethren to

go daily with procession to speed the commons’ journey.” All the men of

the lordship of Holm assembled in the church. The Abbot came to them and

in the commons’ name bade Cuthbert Musgrave, his deputy officer, ride to

Broadfield at the head of the tenants and join the host there. Musgrave

refused to go, and argued the point with the Abbot. The tenants declared

that they would not go unless the Abbot went with them. “And so they

departed and none went.” The Abbot had enemies among his own brethren;

he had compromised himself past hope before them, and he had not even

helped the cause[577].

On Saturday 17 February the commons prepared for the assault on

Carlisle. It does not seem to have been such a vigorous attack as the

word now implies. They approached within bow-shot, and showered arrows

on the defenders who appeared on the city walls. This went on until they

exhausted their supply of arrows, when they retired a little way to

consider what to do next. Perhaps they had actually advanced to the

attack when Sir Christopher Dacre unexpectedly appeared with five

hundred border spearmen. The commons broke and turned to fly; whereupon

Thomas Clifford issued from the castle and fell upon them, pressing on

the pursuit for twelve miles or more. His mosstroopers were in no mood

to spare the countryfolk who had beaten them so ignominiously on

Monday[578].

Several heroes on the King’s side distinguished themselves. One Roger

Middlewood, who had been in the Kirkby Stephen skirmish and there was

taken prisoner and stripped, “was the first man out of the town and slew

one with his own hand.”[579] But his honour was challenged by Robin

Grame, a noted spy in Scotland, who, with only two other men, had been

skirmishing with the commons before the assault, and “continued crying

and shouting at them more than one hour before any man came to help

him.” He was one of the last to turn back from the pursuit[580]. Others

of his name won no less praise. The Grahams of Esk, four brothers,

“proper men,” had come in with half their grayne to serve in the castle

without wages. “Whosoever take the thank, these were the first that

break spear on the rebels after the assault.”[581] They were foremost in

the chase, captured seven score rebels and one of the captains, who

seems to have been Thomas Tibbey himself. On the strength of these

services they afterwards petitioned the King that they might hold their

lands on the Esk rent-free, as their father did before them[582].

On Saturday 17 February Norfolk was at Barnard Castle, where the

gentlemen of his train had mustered their servants and head

tenants—everyone, in short, whom they could trust. The Duke was

overjoyed with the army which had assembled; there were about 4000 men,

all well tried, harnessed, and mounted on “the best geldings he ever

saw.” Their only anxiety was to atone for their former fault; such a

band would be fearful for the King’s enemies to look upon. Hardly was

this splendid little army in array, when news came from Carlisle which

showed that it would not be needed. Before 9 o’clock in the morning

messengers rode in who had seen the assault upon Carlisle and the rout

of the commons. The chase was not ended when the messengers set out.

Norfolk wrote to Henry: “Your Highness hath as much cause to thank God

as ever had prince. Sir Christopher Dacre has shown himself a noble

knight.” Seven or eight hundred prisoners were taken and the Duke was

about to travel in all haste to Carlisle to see execution done[583]. The

rejoicings in London were great. Sir Christopher Dacre was the hero of

the hour. It was said that he had slain 700 rebels or more and taken the

rest prisoners, hanging them up on every bush. Cromwell declared at

court that “if it lay in him he would make him an earl.”[584]

This magnificent victory was won over the wretched, desperate commons of

the poorest shire in the realm, fighting in defence of their property

and lives. There is no means of knowing how many were killed, as the

number reported in London, 700, seems to be too large. Wilfred Holme

estimated that 300 prisoners were taken, and this seems a more likely

figure than the 800 reported to Norfolk. The victory was certainly

decisive; in defeat more than at any other time strong captains are

needed; the leaderless commons of Westmorland and Cumberland were

utterly broken.

Norfolk was in Carlisle on Monday 19 February. There were so many

prisoners in the town that he found great difficulty in providing for

their safe-keeping. He wrote that night to the Council to promise that

if he might go his own way for a month he would order things to the

King’s satisfaction. It would take some time, because he must himself be

present at all the convictions and proceed by martial law, and there

were many places to punish. Not a lord or gentleman in Cumberland and

Westmorland could claim that his servants and tenants had not joined in

the insurrection. “And, good Mr Comptroller[585], provide you of a new

bailiff at Embleton, for John Jackson your bailiff will be hanged

Thursday or Friday at the furthest.”[586]

Norfolk wrote to Cromwell with assurances that if he did not at once

proceed to “sore justice” it was for no love he bore the traitors, but

for reasons evident to anyone on the spot, but too long to be explained.

Nevertheless more should suffer “than should do if I would believe so

many were compelled to rebellion as is showed me.... I was never so

well-beloved here as I shall be feared if I live another month.” No

doubt Norfolk trusted by the last suggestion to please the King, who was

always jealous of popular noblemen[587].

Amidst all his business Norfolk found time to examine Sir Francis Bigod

and “communed with him at great leisure.” Bigod said very little, and

Norfolk sent up his first confession to Cromwell, promising that the

prisoner should be strictly interrogated from time to time[588]. Sir

Francis’ examinations are not now extant, but there is a summary of his

evidence[589]. He said nothing against Darcy, Constable, and Aske, which

must have vexed the authorities.

Norfolk issued proclamations which commanded all who had been in

rebellion to come to Carlisle and submit themselves humbly to the King’s

mercy. Accordingly on Tuesday 20 February the country-people began to

straggle into the city in scattered, dejected bands. They had lost their

horses, harness, and weapons in the chase; they were in instant fear of

a traitor’s death for themselves, and of fire, plunder, and outrage for

their homes and families. Norfolk imprisoned seventy of the “chief

misdoers,” that is of the braver and more determined of them, and turned

the rest away without even a promise of pardon; but he dared not proceed

to execution until all the country had submitted. He sent orders to the

Earl of Derby and Lord Mounteagle in Lancashire to apprehend all who

might flee in that direction; in Durham the Earl of Westmorland had made

thirteen prisoners, not fugitives, but men who favoured the rebels; thus

there was no encouragement to try to escape eastward[590].

Norfolk’s strategy was successful. Every day more and more of the “poor

caitiffs” came in from all districts of Westmorland and Cumberland, even

Cockermouth, the wildest part of all. They were contrite enough to

satisfy any tyrant, “and if sufficient number of ropes might have been

found would have come with the same about their necks.” Seventy-four out

of six thousand who submitted were selected for trial. A Cumberland jury

had not then attained the bad name which it earned long afterwards, and

Norfolk, though a master of the art of choosing juries, dared not trust

one with the work in hand, lest “many a great offender” were acquitted.

He appointed Sir Ralph Ellerker as marshal and Robert Bowes King’s

attorney to prosecute. This must have been a sufficient humiliation for

the Pilgrims’ ambassadors to the King.

All the prisoners were condemned to die by law martial, the King’s

banner being displayed. Not the fifth part would have been convicted by

a jury. Some protested that they had been dragged into rebellion against

their will. The most part had only one plea, saying, “I came out for

fear of my life, and I came forth for fear of loss of all my goods, and

I came forth for fear of burning of my house and destroying of my wife

and children.”[591] They had not, in fact, turned against the law, they

had risen to defend all that the law should have defended for them from

Clifford’s police, the thieves of the Black Lands[592]. “A small excuse

will be well believed here, where much affection and pity of neighbours

doth reign. And, sir, though the number be nothing so great as their

deserts did require to have suffered, yet I think the like number hath

not been heard of put to execution at one time.” Thus Norfolk wrote to

the King; his chief anxiety was lest it should be thought that he had

not put a sufficient number to death. He assured his master that every

man who had taken a forward part in the rising was to suffer. He had

done his best, helped by Sir Christopher Dacre, Sir Thomas Wharton, Sir

Thomas Curwen, Sir John Lamplough and the other gentlemen, to try out

sufficient matter against more of the prisoners; little as was needed,

he had failed, though he still hoped to swell his numbers with some who

had fled or were in hiding[593].

No time was lost over the executions, as Norfolk was in haste to be in

Northumberland, where Tynedale and Reedsdale were giving trouble. The

rebels were hanged in their own villages, “in trees in their gardens

to record for memorial” the end of the rebellion[594]. Twelve were

hanged in chains in Carlisle for the assault on the city, eleven at

Appleby, eight at Penrith, five at Cockermouth and Kirkby Stephen, and

so on; scarcely a moorland parish but could show one or two such

memorials. Some were hanged in ropes, for iron was “marvellous

scarce,” and the chain-makers of Carlisle were unable to meet the

demand. The victims were all poor men, farm hands from the fields and

artisans of the little towns; probably the bailiff of Embleton was the

highest man among them. Only one priest suffered with them, a chaplain

of Penrith. The government’s conviction that the clergy were at the

bottom of the new rising was mistaken; Norfolk, with the best will in

the world, could only implicate one priest, but he made the vicar of

Brough-under-Stainmore prisoner, although he had done nothing unlawful

since the pardon, except that he had prayed for the Pope. Norfolk

wished to know the King’s pleasure as to whether he must suffer or

not[595].

Later times have seen assizes more bloody than Norfolk’s in

Carlisle—Sussex’ in York after the Rising of the North—Jeffreys’ in the

west country after Monmouth’s rebellion. The horror of the Carlisle

assizes lies less in their cruelty than in their injustice. Those who

take up arms for a political cause must look to be punished for

political reasons, but what principle can condemn men miserably poor for

defending the little they have? The judges knew well that they were

doing an indefensible act, and they spared the people as far as they

dared. This is the final indictment of Henry’s government, that his

greatest nobleman hanged men whom he knew to be guilty only of having

turned against intolerable oppression. Norfolk wrote to Cromwell: “What

with the spoiling of them now and the gressing of them so marvellously

sore in time past and with increasing of lords’ rents by enclosing, and

for lack of the persons of such as shall suffer, this border is sore

weaked and especially Westmorland; the more pity they should so deserve,

and also that they have been so sore handled in times past, which, as I

and all other here think, was the only cause of the rebellion.”[596]

Perhaps Norfolk told his conscience (if it ever troubled him) that

another man would have made more sure of the King’s favour by greater

severity.

When the news of the rebels’ defeat reached the King, he sent orders for

the harshest measures to be enforced. His instructions have been quoted

so often that a summary of them is sufficient here. First the King

thanked all who had served him, especially Norfolk and Sir Christopher

Dacre; “you shall have good cause to rejoice of your doing in that

behalf.” He heartily approved of Norfolk’s declaration of martial law,

and his banner was not to be closed until the country was in such fear

as would insure better behaviour.

Bigod, the Friar of Knaresborough, Leache, “the vicar of Penrith,”

Chancellor Towneley and Pickering of Bridlington or as many of them as

were in Norfolk’s hands, were to be sent to the King. The lands and

goods of these and any other traitors who owned such were to be seized,

and the King would consider the question of rewarding faithful subjects

with them.

Finally Norfolk was to proceed to Sawley, Hexham, Newminster, Lanercost,

St Agatha’s at Richmond, and such other monasteries as had “made any

manner of resistance,” and to cause the monks or canons found faulty “to

be tied up, without further delay or ceremony, to the terrible example

of others; wherein we think you shall do us high service.”[597] This is

one of the most famous commands King Henry ever gave, and nobody knows

whether it was obeyed. This ignorance is due to the fact that from 24

February to 5 March there is a blank in Norfolk’s correspondence with

the King. The Duke intended to ride from Carlisle to Hexham, there to

suppress the Abbey, take order for Tynedale and Reedsdale, hear any

cases of sedition in Northumberland, and take the oaths of the

gentlemen. From Hexham he meant to go to Durham and thence to York,

“sitting in execution” at both cities[598].

His own account of this expedition is lost. He did not go to Newminster

in Northumberland, for it was not suppressed until August 1537, when all

the monks received pensions[599]. It is not known why the King named it

as a centre of sedition. Nothing is known about the fate of Lanercost

Priory and its inmates, nor about that of St Agatha’s at Richmond.

Sawley was suppressed by Norfolk’s orders, though not by the Duke in

person, and the Abbot and some of the monks were executed[600]. Norfolk

went to Hexham, but in his next letters, from Newcastle-upon-Tyne, there

is no account of what he did there. A letter to Cromwell about the

suppression of Hexham Priory exists, however, and as there is no mention

in it of the “tying up” of any monks, it is probable that Henry’s orders

arrived too late, that Norfolk had already closed the King’s banner in

token that martial law was ended, and that he therefore had a sufficient

excuse for sparing the canons.

A fragment of Norfolk’s reply to the King’s famous letter has been

preserved by a Cumberland historian, although the original is lost. No

doubt if it still existed the problem of the monks’ fate would be

solved, for if martial law was no longer in force Norfolk would have no

power of summary execution. The remains of the letter are as follows:

“Aglionby, I doubt not, or now hath shewed you highness what was done

at Carlisle. And though none were quartered because I knew not your

pleasure therein before: yet all the threescore and fourteen be hanged

in chains or ropes upon gallows or trees, in all such towns as they

did dwell in. And whereas your Majesty would have sent the vicar of

Penrith to you; it is not of Penrith, but of Brough that your grace

doth mean, for there is none such; for whom I have sent to my lord of

Cumberland, for I left him in his keeping. And also I have for Doctor

Towneley, and doubt not within three days to have them both with me,

and so shall send them up.”[601]

In order to conclude the matter of the rebellion in Cumberland, it is

necessary to look forward for some weeks. Sir Thomas Curwen, the sheriff

of Cumberland, received anonymous letters accusing the Abbot of Holm

Cultram of treason. With Sir Thomas Wharton and others he paid a secret

visit to the Abbey on 22 May 1537, collected enough evidence to hang the

Abbot, and forwarded it to Norfolk. As usual the Abbot’s fate is

uncertain[602].

The Cumberland magistrates were no doubt trying to regain Norfolk’s

favour by their zeal in the case of the Abbot, because they had incurred

his displeasure in another matter. Two months after the Duke’s session

in Carlisle, he heard that the bodies of all the rebels who were

executed had been cut down and buried. He rebuked the magistrates with

“quick messages,” and ordered them to search out the ill-doers. They

sent him nine or ten confessions in reply, but he did not consider these

nearly enough. “It is a small number concerning seventy-four that hath

been taken down, wherein I think your Majesty hath not been well

served.” Norfolk asked the King on 8 May how these offenders were to be

punished; they were all women—the widows, mothers and daughters of the

dead men. Of all the records these brief confessions are the most

heart-breaking and can least bear description. The widows and their

neighbours helped each other. Seven or eight women together would wind

the corpse and bury it in the nearest churchyard, secretly, at nightfall

or daybreak. Sometimes they were turned from their purpose by the

frightened priest, and then the husband’s body must be buried by a

dyke-side out of sanctified ground, or else brought again more secretly

than ever and laid in the churchyard under cover of night. All was done

by women, save in two cases when the brother and cousin of two of the

dead men were said to have died from the “corruption” of the bodies they

had cut down[603]. The Earl of Cumberland was blamed by Norfolk for the

loss of the bodies, and it must be counted to the Earl’s credit that he

was ashamed to look too closely into so pitiful a story. Norfolk wrote

to Cromwell:

“I do perceive by your letter that ye would know whether such persons

as were put to execution in Westmorland and Cumberland were taken down

and buried by my commandment or not: undoubtedly, my good lord, if I

had consented thereunto, I would I had hanged by them; but on my

troth, it is 8 or 9 days past sith I heard first thereof, and then was

here with me a servant of my lord of Cumberland’s called Swalowfield

dwelling about Penrith, by whom I sent such a quick message to my said

lord, because he hath the rule in Cumberland as warden, and is sheriff

of Westmorland and hath neither advertised me thereof, nor hath not

made search who hath so highly offended his Majesty, and also

commanding him to search for the same with all diligence, that I doubt

not it shall evidently appear it was done against my will.”[604]

The Duke was anxious to shift the blame on to someone else’s shoulders,

as the King was very angry at this defiance of his authority. He

remarked characteristically that he did not believe it “had come of

women’s heads only,” although the depositions do not mention the names

of any living men concerned in it. On 22 May Cromwell insinuated that

Norfolk must have countenanced the offenders, and sent most positive

orders that somebody must be punished, but the fate of the women is

unknown[605].

To return to the main course of our narrative, Norfolk was at Hexham on

Monday 26 February. There he met Sir Reynold Carnaby, the farmer of the

Priory, and put him in possession. The canons were turned out “with very

good exhortation to the inhabitants” of Hexham uttered by Norfolk. With

the Duke and his train in their midst they were “very tractable and

sorry for what they had done amiss.” They professed themselves ready to

obey Carnaby “as their officer,” when they saw Cromwell’s orders to that

effect, though without these he was likely to have been “discouraged.”

Norfolk asked him if the canons had done anything contrary to their

allegiance since the pardon. Carnaby answered, “No, otherwise I would

have been an untrue man to conceal it.”[606] Sir Reynold was already

held in evil report among his neighbours, and if he had informed against

the canons his life would not have been safe. The people of the

neighbourhood loved their Priory, and to this day Carnaby is spoken of

with hatred in the countryside.

From Hexham Norfolk went to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, where he stayed for

some time, chiefly engaged in his second task of bringing the Borders

into comparative peace[607]. He visited Prudhoe Castle, Sir Thomas

Percy’s home, and gave it into the keeping of the Percys’ deadly foe Sir

Reynold Carnaby; but he first had an inventory made of the goods in the

castle, and redelivered them to Lady Percy by bill indented. He seems to

have been touched by the desolation of Lady Percy, “a good woman” who

obeyed him in all things. She gave him the Abbot of Sawley’s

supplication, which seemed to the casual reader so innocent but proved

in the end evidence sufficient to take five men’s lives. Lady Percy sent

it to Norfolk, no doubt in obedience to a demand for papers; if she had

read it she could scarcely have guessed that it was worth her husband’s

head. Norfolk thought it would “touch the Abbot very sore” but does not

seem to have considered it compromising to Percy. Lady Percy was setting

out for London, to be near Sir Thomas, who was in the Tower. She herself

carried Norfolk’s letters[608].

The Earl of Northumberland was preparing to surrender his estates into

the King’s hands. He was stricken by his last illness. To Norfolk’s

great indignation he had sent down servants to sell the woods on his

lands in Yorkshire, probably in a last attempt to raise money to satisfy

some of his creditors. “As good to pull down the houses as destroy the

woods,”[609] wrote the Duke, and sent peremptory orders to Topcliff that

nothing of the sort was to be attempted[610].

On 3 March the Privy Council sent Norfolk special orders concerning Sir

Robert Constable. The King had despatched letters which bade him repair

to court; the messenger found him at Flamborough and “he made no

satisfactory answer to the letters.” Norfolk was ordered to send word to

Sir Ralph Ellerker at Hull and Sir Ralph Evers at Scarborough to watch

the ports so that Sir Robert might not escape by sea; at the same time

the Duke was to advise him to obey the King, and if he did not at once

address himself to the journey, he must be sent up by a

serjeant-at-arms[611]. Norfolk did not think that Sir Robert was likely

to fly, though if he intended to do so, he could take ship from

Flamborough, which was his own town, without anyone being the wiser.

Constable seems to have gone up on receiving Norfolk’s letters, as

nothing is ever said about his arrest, and it was not likely to pass off

quietly in the midst of his own country. The King also desired that Dr

Pickering should be sent up, and Norfolk promised to arrest him at

once[612].

After suppressing the lesser monasteries within his commission Norfolk

had about three hundred religious persons on his hands wanting

capacities, which he had no power to give; neither had he a commission

for levying the subsidy. These were mere hitches, however, and he was

soon to find himself face to face with a serious difficulty[613]. On

Thursday 8 March he rode to the city of Durham, and next day sat on the

indictments of about twenty offenders; but before the beginning of the

session he discovered that the Bishopric of Durham was not included in

his commission. All the country had come in, everything was ready for

the trial, and Norfolk had no legal power to proceed with it. He

decided, with the advice of his council, to keep secret his lack of

authority, and accordingly the jury was charged and the indictments were

found[614]. Thirteen offenders, including the Priory porter and two of

the Priory cooks[615], would have been condemned next day in the

ordinary course of justice, but Norfolk graciously respited them until

after Low Sunday [7 April 1537], as he was too busy to wait in Durham

for an answer to the letters which he despatched to the King and

Cromwell.

In these letters Norfolk humbly asked pardon for not having perused his

commission more carefully; in future he would have such documents read

by counsel. He was about to return to Newcastle-upon-Tyne for a brief

visit devoted to Border affairs, and after that he proposed to ride to

York by way of Beverley and Hull, taking with him from those towns the

offenders whom Ellerker had admitted to bail after Bigod’s rising[616].

Norfolk was very anxious to know how many the King wished him to

arraign; his own inclination was to be sparing of executions. “Folks

think the last justice at Carlisle great, and if more than twenty suffer

at Durham and York it will be talked about.”[617]

The King received these letters on 17 March; in his reply he thanked

Norfolk for his proceedings, sent him a complete commission, and assured

him that he did not consider him to blame for the omission in the last

one. The King particularly desired the conviction of Hutton of Snaith,

against whom, as he understood, new matter had been found; “we and our

Council thought his assembly on pretence of making a supplication no

less than high treason, even if this matter had not turned up.” Nothing

is known of Hutton’s “assembly.” The man is something of a mystery, as

no account remains of the rising round Snaith, which was part of Darcy’s

country. Hutton, along with Aske and Constable, was excepted by name out

of the intended Yorkshire pardons in November[618]. A theory that seems

to meet the circumstances is that Snaith rose at the beginning of the

rebellion, perhaps earlier than the East Riding, and sent a private

supplication to the King, as the people of Louth did. This petition, the

first to come from Yorkshire, might have especially angered Henry. If

this were the case, Hutton’s assembly must have occurred during the

period covered by the pardon, yet the King thought it enough to hang him

without further evidence, a clear sign of the way things were going. It

is of course possible that his offence was committed after the pardon,

but in that case Norfolk need not have waited for fresh evidence before

acting against him.

The King’s further orders were that Norfolk must bring to trial the

Abbot of Jervaux[619] and the quondam Abbot of Fountains, for whose

apprehension he was heartily thanked. If enough matter could be found

against the Abbot of Sawley, as the King did not doubt, remembering his

supplication to Sir Thomas Percy, he was to be disposed of with the

others. The men let out on bail by Sir Ralph Ellerker were left to

Norfolk’s discretion. The King perceived from the evidence before him

that the Friars Observant were “disciples of the Bishop of Rome and

sowers of sedition”; therefore the Duke must arrest the friars of that

order and imprison them in the houses of other friars, strictly

forbidding any man to converse with them until the King’s pleasure

towards them was known. Finally the King was about to send for Lord

Darcy, as Norfolk himself had advised in a lost letter[620].

Lord Darcy lay quietly at Pontefract Castle, victualling and garrisoning

it at his own cost. He sent Sir Arthur Darcy to Norfolk with

instructions to show him that all was quiet round Pontefract, the castle

prepared, and Darcy ready at his command. Sir Arthur was to ask for a

copy of the King’s oath, which Darcy and his friends and retainers had

taken in Pontefract Priory, and he must consult the Duke about Thomas

Strangways, Darcy’s steward[621], who had carried to Aske in York

Darcy’s messages—and some of his own, too[622]. Strangways’ cousin, Sir

Oswald Wolsthrope, had warned him that Cromwell bore him no goodwill,

and he had gone to Whitby Abbey and the parts about Guisborough in order

that Darcy and his friends might not be troubled on his account,

although he still trusted to the King’s pardon. He had offered to leave

Darcy’s service, but his master was loth to part with him unless Norfolk

advised him to do so.

Sir Arthur Darcy was with the Duke in York on 9 February. Norfolk

intended to go to Sawley in person to expel the monks, and as Sir Arthur

was the farmer, he was expected to attend the Duke with a company of

friends and kinsmen suitable to the occasion. He wrote to his father,

requesting him to send such a company to join him on Wednesday at

Leeds[623]. Darcy asked for further particulars. Were the men to be

harnessed, and were they to be paid, and how many must there be[624]? On

10 February, the day after he received Sir Arthur’s letter, Lord Darcy

wrote to Robert Aske, desiring him to deliver secretly to the bearer,

Darcy’s constable, all the arrows, bows and spears which had been taken

from the castle during the insurrection[625]. It must have occurred to

Darcy that this action might be misinterpreted, when he asked for

secrecy; or perhaps he was afraid of provoking the commons, who were

still on the alert when they saw a royal castle being put into a state

of defence; for this took place while Richmond was still in a state of

turmoil and before the rising in Cumberland. These considerations might

make secrecy desirable, although otherwise it was unnecessary. It was

perfectly natural that Aske should take arms from a captured fortress,

and equally natural that Darcy should want them back again after the

insurrection when he was suddenly called upon to equip an armed force.

The King had laid great stress on the refortification of Pontefract, and

Darcy was carrying out these orders as well as he could, knowing that

any delay or inefficiency would be turned against him and reported as

proof of a traitorous disposition.

Sir Arthur Darcy answered his father’s questions on 12 February. He

wanted thirty or forty “clean fellows” besides his own servants; the

well-horsed men must be provided with spears and the worse with bows,

and he was willing to pay their costs. Norfolk sent Darcy thanks for his

good offers; he advised him to put away Strangways, but if the man had

not offended since the pardon he might live where he chose without

fear[626].

Darcy sent the men, but the Duke’s plans were altered by the rising in

Cumberland, and Sir Arthur rode with him to the musters at Barnard

Castle. “I beg you to be no less nigh to his person than ye would be to

me,” wrote his father to him[627]. When news was received at Barnard

Castle of the rebels’ defeat, Norfolk gave Sir Arthur his choice of

riding with him to Cumberland or departing with his own men to Sawley.

Sir Richard Tempest had been sent to Sawley, where he turned out the

monks and put three of his servants into possession. Sir Arthur

prudently decided to look after his goods. He came to Sawley none too

soon, for he found Tempest’s servants wasting the Abbey stuff and

collecting his rents. The abbot had been allowed to depart, and at first

Sir Arthur could not learn where he was. Before he left, however, secret

information was brought and twelve of his servants hunted down the abbot

and made him prisoner; the poor man protested that he was fit neither to

ride nor walk, and had done no wrong, for the commons had forced him to

re-enter the Abbey against his will. Sir Arthur took depositions from

some of the abbot’s tenants which, he said, showed that the religious

were the stirrers of all this pestilent sedition “and not only that but

would have eftsoons quickened and revived the same.” When Sir Arthur was

leaving the Abbey, he heard that Leache of Lincolnshire “and others of

his like” were hiding in Lonsdale. He sent out his men in search of

them, and rode himself to Kettlewell, where they were said to be hidden,

but did not find them.

On 25 February he returned to Pontefract and sent a report to Cromwell.

The country was quiet, thanks to Norfolk’s severities. His father was in

the castle, ready at the King’s command, “but his disease grows upon him

and he desires licence to withdraw and live with a small company till he

be out of debt.” He had dismissed Strangways[628]. On 22 March Darcy

wrote to the King, suggesting that as the country was in such quiet it

was no longer necessary to keep a full garrison at Pontefract. He wished

to come up to the King at Easter, even though he were able to travel

“but six miles a day.”[629] Shortly afterwards he was commanded to

repair to the King’s presence. It may have been on this occasion, or

perhaps earlier, that Darcy wrote down a number of memoranda, in which

mention is made of his journey up to court. The notes are disjointed,

not always intelligible, and chiefly connected with his public life.

Among them this passage occurs:

“Item, to counsel with Sir Arthur for bestowing of my servants or

helping [them] with fees, annuities or [other] ways: and himself. For

I peremptor feel my broken heart, and great diseases, without remedy,

to the death of [my] body, which God not offended I most desire, after

His high pleasure and my soul’s health: and He be my judge never lost

King a truer servant and subject without any cause but lack of

furniture and by false reports and pick-thanks. God save the King:

though I be without recovery.”[630]

Towards the end of March 1537, Lord Darcy set out for London.

On the 22nd Norfolk was in York, resting a little after all his riding,

but otherwise as busy as ever. As he was staying for two or three days

in the same place “about execution,” he thought it a good opportunity to

hunt out the devisers of the articles of the spirituality, which the

divines at Pontefract had drawn up and submitted to him at Doncaster.

About this matter he thought that Dr Dakyn, William Bowyer the alderman

of York, and Friar Pickering could disclose most, and he sent them up to

London. Dakyn had written out the articles for the council of divines,

and he could tell “what sort the Archbishop was of,” but Robert Bowes

and other gentlemen bore witness that Dakyn had stood firmly to the

King’s part in the first insurrection, and had endangered his life in

consequence of his loyalty. Bowyer could tell much if he chose, for he

had been in Lord Darcy’s favour and was “as naughty a knave as any.”

Norfolk advised Cromwell that Pickering should be gently handled and

given fair words. He would be able to give information about the prior

of Bridlington and Sir Robert Constable, who was a close friend of the

prior. By this means Cromwell ought to be able to discover any offences

of Darcy or Constable since the pardon[631].

Norfolk had taken Aske with him when he rode north, though he regarded

him with less suspicion than scorn. It must have been a terrible journey

for Aske. Did he at last abandon all belief in Henry’s faith? Or did he

still hope that a northern parliament would be called and that it might

carry the King and the nobles along with it in a violent reaction?

Whatever the thoughts of his heart, with Norfolk he assumed confidence.

“The man is marvellous glorious, often time boasting to me that he hath

such sure espial that nothing can be done nor imagined against the

King’s Highness, but he will shortly give me warning thereof,” wrote the

Duke scoffingly. He did not believe a word of this; fear in his mind was

the instrument of power, never love. Aske might boast of his influence

over the commons, but the gentlemen were never tired of telling Norfolk

how much they hated him and that he was the only cause and head of the

insurrection, the most guilty of all:—

“I have by policy brought him to desire me to give him licence to ride

to London, and have promised to write a letter to your Lordship for

him; which letter I pray you take of like sort as ye did the other I

wrote for Sir Thomas Percy. If neither of them both come never in this

country again I think neither true nor honest men would be sorry

thereof, nor in likewise for my lord Darcy nor Sir Robert Constable.

Hemlock is no worse in a good salad than I think the remaining of any

of them in these parts should be ill to the common wealth.”

Norfolk believed that the articles were Aske’s work and that Sir Robert

Constable and Lord Darcy were the most earnest maintainers of them. For

both these men Aske had a great love, and the King would do well to give

him secret interviews, “and wade with him with fair words, as though he

had great trust in him. This would make him cough out as much as he

knows concerning” them. Nevertheless the Duke could not find the

slightest sign that they had stirred sedition since the pardon; on the

contrary they did their best to prevent and put down Bigod’s

rising[632]. Norfolk caused Aske to draw up several written statements

concerning the rising. One was a list of the spoils in which he had

shared, though he had never plundered anyone himself[633]. Another

concerned his correspondence with his brother Christopher, the articles

of the clergy, his intercourse with the Earl of Northumberland, and his

promise to Levening[634]. The third was about the taking of

Pontefract[635]. On 24 March Aske left York for London, with Norfolk’s

letter of recommendation to Cromwell and another to the King, which

Cromwell was to see “weighed accordingly.”[636]

On the same day the Duke was at York sitting in justice on those who had

been concerned in Bigod’s rising. It may be presumed that some were

condemned, but this is not certain, and two at least were acquitted on

the ground that they had been dragged into the business against their

wills. One of these was called Lutton; the other was William Levening of

Acklam, the gentleman who had appealed to Aske, Darcy and Constable to

help him[637]. Norfolk saw at once that there would be trouble about

this acquittal. It was difficult to find anything incriminating against

the leaders of the Pilgrimage since the pardon; it could be proved, not

only by Levening’s confession but by Aske’s own statement that they had

promised to help Levening. If he was a traitor, the three leaders were

guilty of misprision of treason and there was a sufficient case for the

crown. It is true that they had not in fact concealed the matter, for

Aske had reported it to the Duke, but such a fine point could easily be

overlooked in the sweeping measures of Tudor justice[638]. Levening’s

acquittal was therefore very inconvenient, and the King demanded the

names of the offending jurors. Norfolk replied that he would find them

out; he advised the King not to summon them to London or it would be

said “that men should be compelled to pass otherwise than their

conscience should lead them.”[639] No doubt he was thinking of the

scandal and indignation which Wycliff’s case had caused[640]. If the

King would let Norfolk come himself, he would bring with him “the

greatest stickers in the King’s part to have the indictments pass,” who

would explain the matter. “Some that were acquit was not without good

grounds,” and if Lutton had been condemned the Duke would have reprieved

him. Sir Ralph Ellerker, who was the only witness against him, said that

if he had been on the jury “he would not for all his lands have cast

him.”[641]

The Council sent in reply strict orders that the Levening affair should

be “boulted out.” The King thought Levening’s treason manifest;

therefore the jurors must be examined[642]. As to this intimidating

others, as long as the King gained by that, he seems to have cared

little what justice lost. Norfolk, who was very busy, delayed to send

the names[643], and probably contrived never to show a full list, for he

saw clearly that the north was not yet ready for a full revelation of

the King’s methods; but Thomas Delariver, one of the gentlemen on the

jury, went up to the King. He had not been named by the sheriff, but

Norfolk trusted him and Sir Henry Gascoigne so much that he put them on

the jury in spite of this, and they were the principal “stickers” on the

King’s behalf[644]. In a deposition which he made concerning Levening’s

trial he displayed the secret deliberations of the jurors and the inside

of the case. Sir Ralph Ellerker was the chief witness against Levening;

Delariver, Sir Henry Gascoigne, Thwaites of Maston and two other jurors

thought that his evidence was enough, and were ready to find the

prisoner guilty of death. John Donnyngton, Henry Rasshall, Wentworth and

four more held the contrary. Some of them were Levening’s neighbours,

and they believed that the evidence was given maliciously, because the

King had granted Ellerker some of Levening’s lands. Delariver urged that

it was impossible the King should have disposed of a man’s lands before

he was attainted, and pressed them to give a verdict of guilty. They

debated the point from 9 o’clock on Friday morning until Saturday night.

The majority said that if Levening was guilty, so were all Bigod’s

company, and yet Lutton had been acquitted. The others replied that

Lutton was less guilty than Levening, for he had gone with Bigod against

his will, and had substantiated his plea by flying to the Ellerkers.

Finally Delariver declared that an acquittal would be “the destruction

of us all.” Between 12 and 1 o’clock on Saturday an usher came from the

Duke to ask if they had yet agreed on their verdict. The majority

answered that they had, and the rest, for very weariness, let silence

assent. The Duke of Norfolk came to the Castle, and just as they were

going before him Delariver heard Rasshall say to Thwaites that old Sir

Marmaduke Constable would rather lose a hundred pounds than that

Levening should be condemned. On hearing this Delariver exclaimed that

he would die rather than find Levening not guilty:—

“The Duke then rose up and went to his lodging, appointing his men

Scarlit and Brigham to keep the jury more straitly; who took away from

them all that might keep them warm. At night the Duke sent Leonard

Beckwith and Mansfield to them and they fell all to prayer and rose up

and agreed to acquit Levening; for some of them would not have agreed

to the contrary to have died in the cause.”[645]

The jury may have escaped the King’s anger; at least no record of their

punishment remains.

Norfolk had further trouble in the matter of sending prisoners up to

London. Cromwell had sent for sixteen, and later the King added five

more. The Duke explained that he would have to send a guard of at least

thirty horsemen with them, and he could not spare so many before his

second visit to Durham and Newcastle[646]. By way of economising

escorts, he suggested that letters under the privy seal might be sent to

summon some of the intended prisoners to court; this would be quite safe

in the cases of Sir Stephen Hamerton, Nicholas Tempest and the Prior of

Bridlington, who were in no fear of arrest[647]. Norfolk was surprised

that Gregory Conyers was named among the proposed arrests; no man had

done better service than he at the taking of Bigod, and it would be a

mistake to send him up in custody “unless there be pregnant matter

against him.”[648] Conyers was probably sent for on the accusation of

Sir Francis Bigod. The King was quite willing that as many as could be

trusted should come up to London as free men[649]. Sir Thomas Tempest

was to have charge of the prisoners, among whom was Sir John

Bulmer[650].

Norfolk was at Newborough during the first days of April[651]. He rode

thence to Newcastle-upon-Tyne about Border affairs, and was at Durham on

the 11th[652]. There he received letters from the King, dated the 8th,

which contained the news that Lord Darcy, Sir Robert Constable and

Robert Aske had been arrested, and ordered Norfolk to take inventories

of their goods, and seize all their rents and evidences, “so that they

may be forthcoming to our use if” the prisoners “shall not be purged of

the treasons whereof they be now accused.” In a postscript the King

added that this was an additional reason for prolonging Norfolk’s stay

in the north, as, in his own elliptical phrase, “Lord Darcy, Sir Robert

Constable and Robert Aske ... we doubt not will by their confessions

detect such matter touching those parts as we would trust no man there

so well with the execution of as yourself.”[653]

On 12 April Norfolk was busy with the trials of the prisoners whom he

had been obliged to leave alive at Durham on his first visit. The Earl

of Westmorland had arrested thirteen men for some unidentified

disturbance, perhaps for “ungoodly handling” Lancaster Herald, or for

threatening to hang Westmorland’s bailiff. One of these prisoners had

escaped or had been acquitted. Norfolk had picked up two prisoners in

Cumberland, John Follansby, gentleman, and Henry Brasse; their offences

are never mentioned. Another prisoner, Michael Swayne, appeared in the

interval between the first and the second assize[654]. The Sheriff of

Yorkshire sent Hutton of Snaith to Durham by Norfolk’s command, as no

sufficient matter could be found against him in his own county; “nor

would have been here,” wrote Norfolk, “unless great diligence and

circumspection had been used.” Of these sixteen prisoners there was “not

one acquit,” as the Duke triumphantly noted, and they were hanged in

chains near their homes. Norfolk boasted to the King that people were in

such fear that no one now alive was likely to see another insurrection.

The King’s visit to the north would establish its loyalty for ever. He

need not stay for more than six or eight days, and there would be no

lack of food “after the fashion of the country” nor of forage, if he did

not come until late in July. Many full-grown people had never seen the

King, and the King of Scots, “your scant kind nephew,” was shortly to

return “into his proud populous realm.” Those who thought that the King

could not come in safety without a very large company had only to see

the state of the country to be undeceived[655]. After finishing the

assizes at Durham by attending to the restitution of spoils, Norfolk

went to Sheriffhutton and took up his abode in the King’s castle

there[656]. He was very much occupied with Border affairs, which will be

dealt with later, but he did not forget the King’s order to seize the

goods of the Pilgrimage leaders[657].

On 24 April William Blytheman wrote to Dr Legh from York. He confirmed

Norfolk’s account of the peaceful state of the country. Every malefactor

was afraid; the spirit of the people had changed much since the

insurrection. Complaints were no longer heard against the visitation of

the monasteries: “I dare well say there is no religious man that will

avouch any grief for that matter.” By midsummer another visitation might

be instituted without any danger of opposition. The gentlemen whom

Norfolk was sending as prisoners to London in the charge of Sir Thomas

Tempest and Robert Bowes had just passed through York[658].

On Monday 7 May Norfolk received letters from the King and Cromwell[659]

accompanied by the indictments charging Lord Darcy, Robert Aske, Sir

Robert Constable, Sir Thomas Percy, Sir Francis Bigod, Sir John Bulmer

and Margaret his wife, Sir Stephen Hamerton, George Lumley, Ralph

Bulmer, Nicholas Tempest, James Cockerell, quondam prior of Guisborough,

William Wood, Prior of Bridlington, Adam Sedbar, Abbot of Jervaux, and

William Thirsk, quondam abbot of Fountains, with treason and conspiracy

against the King[660]. According to the usual procedure, these

indictments must be found a true bill by a Yorkshire jury before the

offenders could be tried in London. At first Norfolk was puzzled by the

fact that there were two indictments exactly the same, but after

consulting his council, he concluded that he was intended “to have two

divers inquests; which, if ye do so I think ye do well, for they being

so kept that one of them shall not know what an other doth, shall make

them the more quick to find the matter.” This was a method of guiding

the hands of justice which entirely recommended itself to the Duke’s

ingenious mind. So many gentlemen from all parts of the shire were with

him on their own business that he was able to hold the assize at once,

and he expected “to have the greatest appearance that was seen at York

of many years, on Tuesday at night and Wednesday in the morning.” He was

careful to provide for as many juries as might be needed—“we shall lack

no number, if I should have four inquests.... My good lord, I will not

spare to put the best friends these men have upon one of the inquests,

to prove their affections whether they will rather serve his majesty

truly and frankly in this matter, or else to favour their friends. And

if they will not find then they may have thanks according to their

cankered hearts. And, as for the other inquest, I will appoint such that

I shall no more doubt than of myself.” Everything was being done in the

greatest haste; Cromwell need not doubt that the matter would be found

“according to the King’s pleasure,” and the result would be in his hands

by Friday night[661].

Accordingly on Wednesday 9 May the Duke was at York amidst the fullest

assembly of gentlemen that had been seen there for forty years; no one

who was still able to sit his horse was missing. Norfolk selected his

two juries, one of twenty-one and the other of twenty men. The first was

composed chiefly of kinsmen of the Pilgrimage leaders. Sir Christopher

Danby, “cousin german removed to the lord Darcy” was the foreman; Sir

Edward Gower and Sir Roger Chambley, Constable’s sons-in-law, five more

gentlemen related or allied to Darcy, and John Aske, Robert’s brother,

were all on the “quest,” and their kinship to the accused was carefully

noted by Norfolk himself.

As to the other jury, the foreman was Sir James Strangways, and it

included Darcy’s enemy Sir Henry Saville, Thomas Delariver who

distinguished himself at Levening’s trial, Nicholas Rudston who had been

as deep as any man in the first rising and later turned King’s evidence,

and Gregory Conyers, who ran Bigod down. It will be observed that

Rudston was one of the principal witnesses for the prosecution in

Constable’s case, yet he sat on the grand jury. All the others were men

whom Norfolk could trust, though two or three were related to Bigod or

the Bulmers[662].

The position must have been clear to everyone present. If the first jury

dared to differ from the second, who were certain to find the prisoners

guilty, their decision would be declared a traitorous favouring of their

kinsmen and another jury would be called from among the gentlemen whom

Norfolk had in readiness. The jurors might compromise themselves, while

they could not save their friends. It seems almost incredible that such

a thing should have been done in England. It is true that juries were

easily bribed or intimidated, and Levening’s case shows how much family

politics had to do with a gentleman’s sense of justice, but Wycliff’s

case and Sir Thomas More’s charming story of the juror who would not

agree with the rest for the sake of good company indicate that men were

not devoid of conscience then any more than they are now, and that there

was a standard of true justice, however much below it the actual

practice might fall. It must have attracted notice that so many kinsmen

of the accused were on one jury; but Darcy and Constable between them

were related to most of the gentry of the north, and the selection might

almost have happened by chance, if Norfolk’s letter did not prove that

it was purposely done. John Aske’s appointment was a different matter.

In the days when even distant relationship was a binding tie, it must

have appeared still more monstrous than it does now that one brother

should be forced to pass sentence on another. John was probably too weak

and too much frightened to protest, but why did Norfolk venture upon

such an outrage? He had warned the King against the scandal that would

follow any public punishment of the jury which had acquitted Levening.

Yet little more than a month later he did not hesitate to commit this

far greater abuse of power. It is hard for us to-day to imagine an

adequate motive for such an action. No doubt Norfolk wished to be able

to say “The prisoners must have been guilty: their own friends convicted

them”; and he seems to have been moved partly by vanity, wishing to show

the King and Cromwell that he could do anything with the northern

gentlemen. He boasted that if he had known them before as he did now

Levening would not still be alive[663].

The juries were sworn, the Duke addressed them, and they retired

separately. Shortly they returned and found the indictments “billa

vera.” The fate of the Pilgrims was soon decided, for if the chance of

acquittal by their own friends was small, with a London jury it would be

smaller still.

The business of the court was not yet done. After the indictments of the

Pilgrims the case was taken of two Carthusian monks who denied the

King’s supremacy. These were John Rochester and James Whalworth of the

London Charterhouse, who had been sent to the Charterhouse at Hull.

Rochester had written to Norfolk in March, offering to explain before

the Duke and his council how much the King was deceived by those who

persuaded him to assume the title of Supreme Head of the Church of

England; he begged Norfolk to help him to the King’s presence, for he

would rather die than hide the truth[664]. Norfolk forwarded the letter

to Cromwell, remarking rather peevishly that the monk should never have

been sent north, as he had always expressed his opinions openly, and

that he certainly ought to be “justified” in the south[665]. Norfolk,

however, was obliged to see to both of them himself. They might have

recanted at their trial, but they both stood firm. “Two more wilful

religious men in manner unlearned I think never suffered,” wrote

Norfolk. They were condemned to be executed on Friday 11 May[666].

The indictments were despatched to London, where they were received in

plenty of time for the trials, which began on Tuesday 15 May 1537.

NOTES TO CHAPTER XVIII

Note A. Staveley’s dates are entirely incomprehensible. We have done

our best to construct a reasonable chronology from the facts.

Note B. It is not clear from the accounts whether Sir Christopher

Dacre came up and attacked the commons in the rear, or whether he was

already in the town. Wilfred Holme says that five hundred horse “came

forth” from the city; as he does not give the names of the leaders, he

may have been thinking of Thomas Clifford’s troop, which certainly

came out of the castle. On the whole it seems most probable that Dacre

was not in Carlisle but came upon the rebels while riding to the

relief of the town.

Note C. The problem of the fate of Holm Cultram Abbey is rather

curious. Abbot Carter had undoubtedly taken part in the second

insurrection. Yet he was never attainted, for on the attainder of an

abbot the King seized the abbey, as in the cases of Whalley and

Barlings, but Holm Cultram was surrendered by the Abbot and monks on 6

March 1537–8[667]. The Abbot who conducted this surrender was Gawen

Borrodale, a monk of the house who had been accused of poisoning a

former abbot, Abbot Ireby[668]. Borrodale had been appointed before 23

January 1537–8[669]. It is possible that Abbot Carter escaped

attainder by a natural death. Gasquet suggests this, but confuses

Carter with his predecessor, Ireby[670].

Note D. The third of Aske’s papers is entered separately in the

Letters and Papers, but it was obviously written before his

imprisonment, and should probably be placed with the other two.

Note E. On 13 May 1537 the King desired the Duke of Norfolk to go in

person to suppress the Priory of Bridlington and the Abbey of

Jervaux[671], as the Duke had offered to perform the work, if it was

the King’s pleasure, in a letter of 10 May:—“I think I should be at

the suppressing because the neighbouring country is populous and the

houses greatly beloved by the people, and also well stored with cattle

and other things that will not come all to light so well if I be

absent.” He suggested that he should take with him Mr Magnus, Sir

George Lawson, Leonard Beckwith, Blytheman and his own two servants

Uvedale and Rous, to survey the lands. He remarked frankly, “these men

look for none of the farms, and therefore will see to your profit.”

Jervaux was “well covered with lead,” and as to Bridlington, Norfolk

went into raptures over the roofs there. “It has a barn all covered

with lead, the largest, widest, and deepest roofed that ever I saw.”

Altogether there must be at least three or four thousand pounds’ worth

of lead, and that so near the sea that it could be easily taken

away[672]. Norfolk was at Bridlington from 16 to 18 May. Inventories

were made of all the goods and the best part were sent to

Sheriffhutton. The priory church of Bridlington was also the parish

church for 1500 “houseling people” [communicants]; Norfolk suggested

that part of the land might be granted to the parishioners, to keep up

the church and the shrine of St John, and to repair the harbour, which

was a dangerous place[673].

Even in the matter of the monasteries, Norfolk was not entirely

trusted. Cromwell wrote that commissioners would be sent down from

court to survey the lands, estimate the value of the lead, and so

forth. If £20 would repair the haven, it might be done. The King did

not intend to make grants of the land till Michaelmas, when he would

put in substantial men to comfort the tenants and stay the country. As

to the shrine, it was to be taken down, in order that the people might

not be seduced into offering money there; all the jewels and plate

were to be sent direct to London, except such as Norfolk chose to buy.

The cattle and corn might be sold at once[674]. These orders were

executed before 5 June, when Tristram Teshe carried to London the

tenths and two chests full of the gold and jewels taken from the

Bridlington shrine. Among them were three “wrought tablets” of which

Norfolk wrote to the King “if I durst ... be a thief I would have

stolen them to have sent them to the Queen’s Grace, but now your

Highness having them may give them unto her without offence.” There

was also “a proper thing of _radix Jesse_ to be set upon an altar.”

There remained the silver plate; Norfolk said contemptuously that it

was very old and had better be broken up[675], and no doubt it was

destroyed according to his advice. The church itself is said to have

been demolished[676].

Jervaux was disposed of in as short a time; the monks had been

dispossessed by Norfolk before 31 May, and Sir George Lawson, Robert

Bowes, Blytheman and others were left in charge. The abbey church was

covered with lead, half of which belonged to the parishioners. Norfolk

made a choice selection from the spoils, including a ring, a silver

cross and censers. Beckwith, who carried letters to London, was

charged to give the King “this stone called the best stone.” “Item,

after this manner all men will be desirous to see dissolution.”[677]

It is a matter for conjecture whether the defrauded parishioners were

so well satisfied, or whether they received their own part of the lead

and preferred that to their parish church. Sir Arthur Darcy, in a

letter to Cromwell of 8 June, commended Jervaux as “one of the fairest

churches I have seen, fair meadows and the river running by it and a

great demesne.” He thought that Jervaux would be a better place for

the King’s stud of mares than Thornbury[678]. If this arrangement

would have saved the abbey it is a pity it was not carried out.

When Richard Pollard surveyed Bridlington in June, it is satisfactory

to learn that he found most of the movables had been stolen by the

poor folk of the neighbourhood[679].

Note F. It has been suggested to us that if we are neither satisfied

with the jury of enemies nor with the jury of friends, it is because

whatever the government did is wrong in our eyes. The third

possibility, a jury of indifferent men, does not seem to have occurred

to our critic. Norfolk had all the gentlemen of the north to choose

from; and if it be urged that indifferent men would be difficult to

find at such a time of political excitement, still he could easily

have avoided the Pilgrims’ near relatives, and enemies who had

actually given evidence against them on the charge that was being

tried. (For Rudston’s evidence against Constable see L. and P. XII

(1), 1130; for Saville’s evidence against Darcy see L. and P. XII (1),

1087 (p. 497).) It is true that to appoint an indifferent jury is a

counsel of perfection which in similar circumstances would very likely

not be followed in our own age. If Norfolk had merely named two juries

of loyalists, we should not have called it justice, but it would have

been so natural and indeed inevitable as to merit no special comment.

It appears to us that Norfolk’s actual proceedings, as set forth in

his own letters, were very far from natural, and were deliberately

calculated to give the greatest possible pain both to the accused and

to those jurors who were forced either to condemn their relatives or

to show “their cankered hearts” to a jealous government. And we

believe that “outrage” would not be considered too strong a word for

his conduct by most honest men either in that age or our own.