CHAPTER XX

THE END OF THE PILGRIMAGE

It is not likely that any tidings of the new attempts at insurrection

reached the prisoners in the Tower. They were cut off from the world and

forgotten; the conspirators who still maintained their cause did not

even plan a rescue.

The champions of the old faith lay at the mercy of the reformers, but

even this was not perhaps the most deadly feature of the prisoners’

position. Their plight was rendered still worse by the fact that they

were the upholders of the common law, but they had fallen into the hands

of the civilians. There was a new influence at work in the law courts,

inimical to the ancient free customs of England:—

“In 1535, the year in which More was done to death, the Year Books

come to an end: in other words, the great stream of law reports that

has been flowing for near two centuries and a half, ever since the

days of Edward I, becomes discontinuous and then runs dry. The exact

significance of this ominous event has never yet been duly explored,

but ominous it surely is. Some words that once fell from Edmund Burke

occur to us: ‘To put an end to reports is to put an end to the law of

England.’”[943]

One sign of this new influence was very significant, namely, the

interrogation of the prisoner before trial. This practice, which was

closely connected with the use of torture, was contrary to the usages of

English common law, but it was so freely employed in Henry VIII’s reign

that “in criminal causes that were of any political importance an

examination by two or three doctors of the civil law threatened to

become a normal part of our procedure.”[944] Every one of the prisoners

after the Pilgrimage of Grace was repeatedly interrogated and their

answers were used as the chief evidence against themselves and each

other.

Norfolk expected the last batch of prisoners from the north to arrive in

London on 21 April 1537. Sir John Bulmer and Margaret were reunited in

the Tower, never to be “departed” again, except for a few hours[945].

The King was not satisfied with such a small number of prospective

executions, and several of the gentlemen had narrow escapes. It was

characteristic of the royal gratitude that two of the three noblemen who

had served him most faithfully in the north were among those in danger.

The Earl of Cumberland paid no penalty for his loyalty, but the Earl of

Northumberland, who had refused the rebels’ oath at the risk of his

life, was threatened with a prosecution for treason. He had made the

King his heir, but he was “an unconscionable time a-dying.” Henry wanted

to settle the north, and entertained the idea of sweeping away all the

three Percy brothers at once. The Earl was charged with the surrender of

Wressell Castle to Aske, although this event was undoubtedly covered by

the pardon[946]. The accusation was made about the end of April, and on

29 April the unfortunate man wrote to declare his unswerving

loyalty[947]. It was probably not so much his innocence as the state of

his health which saved him from a traitor’s death. On 3 June he sent

word that although he had made the King his heir on condition that

certain articles of his devising were performed, he now withdrew all

conditions and submitted everything wholly to the King[948]. Perhaps the

threat of a prosecution had been made in order to secure this

submission. On 29 June 1537 the Earl died and the King at last entered

upon the inheritance that he had coveted so long[949].

Young Sir Ralph Evers, who had defended Scarborough Castle against the

rebels, must have appeared to be perfectly secure of the King’s favour,

yet he also fell under suspicion. He had been ordered to seize the goods

of the quondam prior of Guisborough and of Dr John Pickering, and he was

charged with embezzling some of the money[950]. The charge was very

likely true, but his gains cannot have been great, and at a time when

pickings were so plentiful his conduct was hardly worthy of remark.

A more serious matter against him was his alleged letter to Sir John

Bulmer, which contained disrespectful comments on Norfolk and

Cromwell[951]. Norfolk examined him about it on 11 July and was

favourably impressed by his answers. The Duke advised that Evers should

be summoned to London, although he was in very bad health, suffering

apparently from a serious abscess in his ear. Norfolk did not think he

could live long, and suggested that the letter had been forged against

him by his enemy Sir Roger Cholmeley[952]. Evers insisted that he had

not written the treasonable passages, on the very good grounds that he

could neither read nor write more than his own name[953]. Sir Ralph was

at Windsor in July[954], but returned safely to the north in

August[955]. His summons to London at such a time naturally caused his

family the greatest anxiety. His wife was reported to have said, “There

is twenty of the best in Yorkshire hath sent me word that if my husband

were in any danger, that they would rise and fetch him out or else die

therefore,” and also that if her husband were in any danger above, it

would turn to a worse business than the death of any man that died in

Yorkshire. Two servants who tried to lay information against her were

imprisoned by John Evers, Sir Ralph’s brother, in the parsonage of

Lythe, near Whitby. They contrived to escape to Sir Ralph’s enemy Sir

Roger Cholmeley, and laid their accusations against Lady Evers[956] and

her brother-in-law, but Norfolk treated the matter lightly, perhaps

because her words were true and he dared not meddle with her[957].

Norfolk came to the conclusion that the incriminating letter had been

written by one of Evers’ servants, but he was satisfied with the

punishment of the servant, and overlooked the offence of the

master[958].

The King’s auditors on 28 December 1536 accused Lord Conyers of

hindering them in their collection of the royal rents, “for some said if

he commanded [the tenants] they would pay, insomuch that Mr Fulthorpe,

constable of the Castle [of Middleham] urged him to further the

audit.”[959] This was duly noted, and as soon as the King could act with

safety Lord Conyers was sent for and put in ward. By Norfolk’s advice,

however, he was released instead of being brought to trial. Lord Conyers

returned home and incurred the King’s further displeasure by breaking

“his promise at his departure from Windsor,” whatever that may have

been[960]. Nevertheless he escaped further trouble.

Lord Latimer’s danger was even greater. He was vaguely implicated in the

Bulmer conspiracy, and it was known that he had suggested at Pontefract

that the clergy should be asked whether it was ever lawful for subjects

to rebel. He was also connected with Sir Francis Bigod, whose baby son

Ralph was pledged to Lord Latimer’s daughter Margaret[961]. Latimer was

summoned to London at the same time as Sir John Bulmer, but he never

obeyed the summons[962]. At length, about the middle of June, Norfolk

induced him to go up to London as a suitor on his own affairs; the Duke

was not scrupulous in such matters, but perhaps it was as a salve to his

conscience that he wrote to Cromwell that he could find no evidence

against Latimer[963].

Lord Latimer had been proposed as a member of the Council of the North,

but his name was struck off the list[964]. He arrived in London about 29

June[965], and his friends gave him up for lost. His brother Thomas

Nevill, hearing of his journey, exclaimed to his wife, “Alas, Mary, my

brother is cast away. By God’s Blood, if I had the King here I would

make him that he should never take man into the Tower.” Hearing a poor

woman lamenting that the parson of Aldham, Essex, who had been arrested

for treason, “should be put to death upon a false wretch’s saying,”

Nevill replied, “No, Margaret, he shall not be put to death, for he hath

no lands nor goods to lose; but if he were either a knight or a lord

that had lands or goods to lose, then he should lose his life.”[966] Yet

lands and goods might save a life as well as destroy it. Lord Latimer

escaped for the time by means of a bribe to Cromwell in the form of his

house within the Charterhouse churchyard, the lease of which had cost

Latimer 100 marks, besides his expenses on many improvements[967].

Lord Lumley came up to London with Lord Latimer, and saved himself in

the same way. The evidence which connected him with the Bulmer

conspiracy was fairly clear, but he sent a substantial bribe to

Cromwell, with the hint that, in consequence of his son’s attainder, he

could make whomsoever he pleased his heir[968]. By these means he was

enabled to die in his bed.

It is not likely that Latimer and Lumley would have been able to buy

themselves off if the King had really determined upon their death, but

in the case of Lumley the royal vengeance was satisfied by the execution

of his son George Lumley, and after the trials of Darcy and Hussey Henry

must have realised that it would not be easy to secure a conviction on

the very slender evidence which was all that could be produced against

Latimer. Barons and lesser nobles were the only men whose trials gave

Henry any difficulty. The great nobles, Buckingham, Exeter, Norfolk,

made so many enemies, that it was easy to accomplish their fall.

Knights, country gentlemen, and common people were at the King’s mercy.

But barons must be tried by their peers, who were collectively too

powerful to be intimidated; and these judges were led by a strong class

spirit to sympathise with their unfortunate fellow-peer who stood before

them. Before this Lord Dacre had been acquitted[969]; later the King

found it impossible to bring Lord Delaware to trial[970], and even at

the present crisis the peers made an effort to save Lord Darcy. Lord

Hussey excited less sympathy, being comparatively an upstart.

Darcy was committed to the Tower on 7 April 1537[971], and on the 8th

the King sent orders to Norfolk to seize his lands, papers, etc.[972]

There was some apprehension at court that his arrest might provoke a

fresh rising, but Norfolk had taken his precautions, and assured

Cromwell that there was no danger[973], while he seized the goods in

accordance with his orders[974].

Darcy was examined at the Lord Chancellor’s house about 16 April[975].

He did not make a patient subject for cross-examination; he knew that

his doom was fixed and, like Macbeth, he turned upon his enemies:

“They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,

But bear-like I must fight the course——.”

He greeted his examiners with the words: “I am here now at your

pleasure; ye may do your pleasure with me. I have read that men that

have been in cases like with their prince as ye be now have come at the

last to the same end that ye would now bring me unto. And so may ye come

to the same.”[976] He accused Surrey; he most probably accused

Norfolk[977]; he defied Cromwell with the famous challenge: “Cromwell,

it is thou that art the very original and chief causer of all this

rebellion and mischief, and art likewise causer of the apprehension of

us that be noble men and dost daily earnestly travail to bring us to our

end and to strike off our heads, and I trust that or thou die, though

thou wouldst procure all the noblemen’s heads within the realm to be

stricken off, yet shall there one head remain that shall strike off thy

head.”[978]

Darcy was examined again in the Tower before his trial[979], but the

fragments of his answers on the first occasion show plainly the reason

why the full record of them has not been preserved. It must have been a

very spirited document, but too many people were interested in its

destruction for it to survive, while there was no motive for keeping it,

as it incriminated none of the other Pilgrims. This is proved by the

summaries of the evidence against the different prisoners, and the

memoranda for the prosecution. In these the names of the witnesses

against each prisoner are given, with references to the examinations and

depositions containing the evidence. Not a single person was accused by

Darcy; not a single charge was strengthened by his evidence. He made

good his vaunt that “Old Tom has not one traitor’s tooth in his head.”

All Darcy’s papers were seized and sent to London; they were very

numerous, for he kept copies of almost every letter that he ever

received or wrote[980]. His method of writing was to make a rough copy

of the letter himself in his large, bold, uncouth handwriting with

individualistic spelling; this was given to one of his secretaries who

made one fair copy, or perhaps several if the matter was important. Out

of this correspondence the Crown lawyers proceeded to pick treason, and

their notes show the kind of evidence which must have been given at the

trial as proof of the charges in the indictment[981].

This evidence falls into three classes, (1) the treasonable acts which

he was accused of committing since the King’s pardon; (2) those which he

committed during the rebellion; (3) those which he had committed before

the period covered by the pardon which extended from 10 October to 10

December 1536[982].

(1) The principal evidence in the first category was that Darcy in his

letters about Bigod’s rising had repeatedly stated that Norfolk was

coming down to confirm the general pardon and to appoint the time for

the new parliament and convocation, that he came with but a small

company, and that the commons must remain quiet until he arrived[983].

This was twisted into treason on the grounds that it implied, if the

terms were not confirmed, according to the rebels’ unreasonable

requests, “they will revive their traitors’ hearts; meanwhile they are

to stay but upon the Duke’s coming.” This charge is obviously nonsense.

Darcy believed the King’s solemn and repeated assurances that he

pardoned everybody, and that he would hold a free parliament. Now that

the King did not mean to keep his promises, it was suggested that

Darcy’s faith in the royal word was treason. Darcy believed that Norfolk

brought from the King conciliatory messages which would satisfy the

commons, and take away their wish to rebel again. In this mistaken

belief he pacified the country, and this was also considered a proof of

treason.

Another piece of evidence on which stress was laid was that Levening,

“one of the principal traitors with Bigod,” had asked Darcy to speak to

Norfolk on his behalf, and that Darcy had never reported his

application[984]. This shows the King’s superb command over

circumstances. Levening was not a traitor. He had been tried and

acquitted; legally he was an innocent man, and it could not possibly be

treason to help him to clear his character. But in spite of the verdict

of the jury the King had made up his mind that Levening was a traitor,

and as a traitor he was to appear in all other trials.

More evidence against Darcy was gleaned from Parker’s letter which

described the state of Lancashire at Christmas time[985]. It was a

report of muttered discontent and threatening preparations. Cromwell

commented on it that Parker would not have written this if it had not

been Lord Darcy’s pleasure[986], which shows the kind of report that he

expected from his own spies; but it appears from the letter itself that

Parker was far from sure that Darcy would be pleased, for he said, “My

lord, I beseech your lord[ship] be not miscontent with me if [I show

your] lordship what their communing is in all this country.” Cromwell’s

other objection, that Darcy never reported Parker’s warning to the royal

lieutenants, was absolutely false. Darcy wrote to Shrewsbury about it on

7 January[987].

Further evidence related to Darcy’s alleged message to Aske before the

latter went up to London at Christmas. This has already been discussed

and disproved[988].

Sir John Bulmer’s statement that he sent Darcy warning not to go to

London was mentioned, but this point was not dwelt upon, as even

Cromwell must have realised that there was no proof that Darcy had

received the message, and he certainly had not acted upon it[989].

Darcy’s recent stewardship of Pontefract Castle was called in question,

and it was considered equally treasonable that he had suggested the

delay of its re-equipment for a few days[990], and that, when Sir George

Darcy insisted on speed, he had applied to Aske for the weapons which

had been carried off by the rebels[991].

One of the notes deals with an interesting point in the second

negotiations at Doncaster. It was alleged that Darcy wrote to Suffolk

and Shrewsbury to require that the appointment should be observed in

Lincolnshire, and that no prisoners should be executed. As none is known

to have been put to death until March this probably was in fact part of

the appointment[992].

The last accusation of this class was that Darcy, in a letter which has

not been preserved, invited Aske to meet Chaloner, Grice and Sir Robert

Constable at Templehurst, ending “I trust in our being together shall

stay many things, and all good men I find well-minded thereunto, your

faithful, Thomas Darcy.” Against this it was objected that the meeting

was suspicious, and that “by the words ‘your faithful’ it appears there

is great fidelity betwixt the Lord Darcy and Robert Aske, being but a

mean person.”[993]

A puzzling note in the evidence states that Darcy, in Lent, sent a copy

of one of Norfolk’s letters to “the prior of Whalley now attainted”;

this showed that he favoured a traitor[994]. There is some mistake here,

for the prior of Whalley was not a traitor; it was the abbot who was

condemned for treason[995]. Talbot deposed that one of Aske’s servants

gave him a copy of a letter from Norfolk to Darcy, which he delivered to

the abbot of Whalley, but the witness did not state when this

happened[996]. It is by no means improbable that Cromwell simply

invented the date, “in Lent,” and that the letter referred to was really

the one found in the vicar of Blackburn’s house, which had been sent out

in November with the summons to the council at Pontefract[997]. Aske’s

letter about the same council is also mis-endorsed “since the

appointment.”[998]

(2) The second class of evidence against Darcy ought not to have been

brought into the case, as the events were covered by his pardon. It was

no longer a matter of importance whether the surrender of Pontefract

Castle was collusive[999], whether Darcy took the rebels’ oath[1000],

what he said to Somerset Herald[1001], or whether he proposed to send a

message to Flanders[1002]. All this should have been obliterated by his

pardon of 18 January 1536–7[1003]. Nevertheless minute inquiries were

made on all these points in order to blacken the case against him.

Owing to his high office and influential position there were naturally a

great many papers relating to different periods of the rising in Darcy’s

possession. Some had been sent to him before the siege of Pontefract by

the King’s lieutenants, while he was still acting for the King[1004];

others had been intercepted during the rebellion or had been sent to him

by the rebels[1005]; while others again were later than the pardon, when

he was once more acting for the King[1006]. The possession of these

letters was the necessary consequence of the position which Darcy had

filled for many years, yet it was considered highly suspicious, and was

magnified into treason.

Other accusations which fall under this head had more point. By

investigating the problem of the Pilgrims’ badges it might have been

possible to prove that Darcy had foreknowledge of the insurrection,

although as a matter of fact nothing incriminating was discovered[1007].

The government was naturally anxious to learn who were the Pilgrims’

southern friends, as although Darcy’s share of the correspondence was

covered by the pardon, the other parties’ share was not; but Darcy

accused no one[1008]. On this subject a story was sent to Cromwell that

a certain beggar “said he had a letter from Lord Darcy to my lord of

Exeter in his cape.” The cape was cut to pieces, and the remains of a

letter, also cut up, were discovered. The finder, Sir Walter Stonor,

sent the fragments to Cromwell, but he did not put much faith in the

tale, as both the beggar and his accuser were “very simple men.”[1009]

In an age of such universal suspicion there was an immense temptation to

half-witted people to acquire a dangerous importance by making

accusations and professing to know secrets. Instances of this tendency

have been given already, and this must have been another case, for

although Cromwell was eager to implicate southern noblemen in the

rebellion, nothing more is heard of the story.

(3) Finally comes evidence that Darcy had committed treason before the

beginning of the insurrection. Here the prosecution was really on firmer

ground. They suspected as much, but they had even less real proof than

in other parts of the case. At this point a curious problem arises.

There was no substantial evidence that Darcy had committed treason since

the pardon; but from Chapuys’ correspondence we know now that he had

been guilty of treason two years before. The government suspected the

earlier plot, but had never been able to prove it. Can it be said that

justice was done when Darcy was executed?

So many innocent persons were put to death in Henry’s reign that

historians are apt to dwell with relief on any defects in the character

of the condemned, no matter how irrelevant they may be to the charge on

which he suffered. Darcy was tried and executed for a crime which he had

not committed, but he had committed a crime for which, if his guilt

could have been proved, he would have been executed. Unless the

principle is adopted that the wickedness of some people is such that it

is right to shoot them at sight, this is not a satisfactory way of

administering justice. Even a criminal is entitled to a fair trial, and

to acquittal when he is not guilty of the particular crime with which he

is charged.

To return to the evidence against Darcy,—nothing could be proved, but a

few rash speeches were brought up against him, which did not amount to

treason. He had said that he would be no heretic[1010], and that it was

better to rule than to be ruled, but the utmost severity was needed to

construe this into a plot against the King’s title or life[1011]. A

witness was found in the person of a chantry priest, who deposed that he

had been told that Darcy said, on hearing of the rebellion in

Lincolnshire, “Ah, are they up in Lincolnshire? If they had done this

three years ago it had been a much better world than it is now.” The

same deponent had also been told of another speech of Darcy’s,

apparently after the pardon, “By God’s blessed mother, if the commons

should happen to rise again, where there were then two shaven crowns

that did take their parts, there will now be four.”[1012] These speeches

are reported on no authority but that of hearsay, and were repeated

eight and four months after they were alleged to have been uttered. They

would not be admitted as evidence in any law-court now, but no such nice

scruples were entertained in Henry VIII’s reign.

There may have been an attempt to accuse Darcy of plotting to murder

Wolsey. The following notes are in the “articles against Lord

Darcy”:—“First, the destruction of the Cardinal in the Chancery”; “For

the gunpowder to burn my Lord Cardinal.”[1013] Apparently the charge

broke down. Norfolk tried to support it by sending Darcy’s “book”

against Wolsey. Darcy had taken the chief part in the Cardinal’s

prosecution and this “book” probably contained the charges brought

against the latter with the consent of the King. Norfolk, however, said

it showed that “the said lord has been long dissatisfied with the King’s

affairs, and the King may by his great wisdom pick out some matters long

since imagined.”[1014] “The book that the Lord Darcy made against the

Cardinal” was entered among the evidence against Darcy[1015].

Other pieces of evidence were picked out of Darcy’s old papers,—an

indenture with a servant of quite an ordinary type[1016], an order dated

June 1536 for a statute book, which Cromwell thought “might be

conspiracy before the insurrection.”[1017] But these points, and perhaps

some of the others, must probably have appeared even to the King’s

lawyers too slight to be brought up at the trial.

It is difficult to know what to say about such pieces of evidence as

these, so trivial, so disingenuous, and yet treated as of sufficient

weight to cost a man his life. When the morality of another age is

strikingly unlike our own, we are apt to excuse it on the grounds that

it was the custom of the time, and that people knew no better. But this

will not serve to excuse the treason trials of Henry VIII. People did

know better. All intelligent and honourable men knew that the King was

not doing justice. There is abundant proof in the preceding pages of

this book that no class of society believed it to be just or right or

necessary for the common safety to put men to death “for a word

speaking,” particularly when the evidence that the word had been spoken

was only hearsay or was supplied by those who had an interest in the

death of the accused. The treason laws, and trials such as those of

More, Fisher and the Carthusian monks, in the previous year, excited so

much horror as to provoke the rebellion. The rising was at first

successful; it was overcome not by force, nor by the rally of any

considerable party round the throne, but by treachery. The King in the

moment of victory was able to do as he pleased, for the defeated

opposition was bewildered, terrified and helpless. But laws and legal

proceedings of the kind which in part caused the revolt cannot

reasonably be called a bulwark of national safety, nor is it altogether

just to say that they were willingly accepted and supported by the

nation.

On 15 May 1537 Lord Darcy was brought to trial in Westminster Hall on

the indictment which had been found at York. The Marquis of Exeter was

appointed Lord High Steward for the trial, and the panel of peers was

composed of the Marquis of Dorset, the Earls of Oxford, Shrewsbury,

Essex, Cumberland, Wiltshire and Sussex, Viscount Beauchamp, and Lords

Delaware, Cobham, Maltravers, Powes, Morley, Clinton, Dacre of the

South, Mountjoy, Windsor, Bray, Mordaunt, Borough and Cromwell[1018]. It

will be observed that Cromwell, who took the chief part in drawing up

the indictment, was also one of the judges.

Darcy pleaded not guilty, and his peers were by no means willing to

convict him according to a friend of Delaware, who said that Delaware,

on coming from the trial, had told him he trusted Darcy would lose

neither life nor goods, as Cromwell had promised to do his best for

him[1019]. Darcy could have told them the folly of listening to such a

promise,—“he that will lay his head on the block may have it soon

stricken off,”[1020] but the tale served its purpose. The lords found

him guilty, and if Cromwell intervened his petition was useless. The

trial was on Tuesday, and it was at first intended that the execution

should take place on Saturday. Darcy faced the prospect with great

firmness; “Lord Darcy is a very bold man,” wrote Husee[1021]. On Friday

Darcy sent for his confessor to be with him early next morning; he asked

for either Doctor Aglabe of the Black Friars nigh Ludgate, or “the

Doctor of Our Lady Friars in Fleet Street, a big, gross, old man.”[1022]

His death, however, was postponed. The King could not make up his mind

whether it would have a better effect to execute Darcy in London or in

his own country, and until this point was settled he remained in the

Tower.

On 3 June Norfolk sent up to London Thomas Strangways, Darcy’s steward,

who had just been arrested at Beverley[1023]. He had in his possession

letters to Darcy from Norfolk, Bowes and Ellerker, and the King’s letter

to Bowes and Ellerker[1024]. Norfolk said that the discovery of these

letters showed that the Pilgrims had had spies in the royal camp, but it

is not clear why he thought this, for all these were public documents

which would naturally be circulated in the north. Strangways was “sore

crazed” and could travel only very slowly[1025]. When he reached London

it was supposed that he would “open many matters,”[1026] but “like

master, like man.” Strangways showed all Darcy’s resolution, and made

the King very angry by “labouring to excuse wholly Lord Darcy and

Constable and that with such advancement of the fame of the country

towards them as though our subjects there do much repine at their

punishments, saying also plainly that they be more meet to rule there

than you [Norfolk] be and much better beloved than you be, amongst the

people of those parties.” These words give an impressive picture of the

faithful old servant, sick and helpless, yet daring to speak out before

the terrible King.

The effect of Strangways’ words was to make Henry almost determined to

send down all the prisoners for execution in the north. He wrote to

Norfolk:

“Considering that this matter of the insurrection hath been attempted

there, and thinking that as well for the example as to see who would

groan at their execution, it should be meet to have them executed at

Doncaster and thereabouts; minding, upon their sufferance, to knit up

this tragedy, we think it should not be amiss that we should send the

said Darcy, Constable and Aske down for that purpose; requiring you,

with diligence, to advertise us of your opinion in that behalf.”[1027]

Norfolk’s reply has not been preserved, but he dared not risk the effect

of Darcy’s execution in the north; the idea was given up, and the old

lord’s life was prolonged again.

Darcy never entertained any hope of mercy. In June he sent a petition to

the King, asking, not for pardon, but “that the straitness of the

judgment may be mitigated at the King’s pleasure.” He had been condemned

to the usual death for treason, but he was allowed the privilege of his

rank and was beheaded. He also requested “to have confession and, at

mass, to receive my Maker”; and begged that his whole body might be

buried by that of his second wife Lady Nevill in the Friary at

Greenwich. He sent in a list of his debts, which were small, begging

that they might be paid; “the premises served is great merit in, and to

me a singular comfort, and to his Grace a small matter.” He added that

he forgave the King a debt of £4400 which the Treasury owed him, and

therefore trusted that his Grace “will the rather command the

within-written debts to be paid.”[1028] On June 30 1537 Lord Darcy was

beheaded on Tower Hill[1029]. His last wishes were not observed, for his

head was exposed on London Bridge, and his body was buried “at the

Crossed Friars beside the Tower of London.”[1030] On 22 July Darcy was

posthumously degraded from his rank as Knight of the Garter, and his

vacant stall was bestowed upon Cromwell[1031]. The overthrow of the old

by the new could not be more emphatically marked.

During Darcy’s imprisonment his sons were in the north, scrambling for a

share in the monastic lands. But there is perhaps a touch of natural

feeling in a letter dated 3 May to the King from Sir Arthur, Darcy’s

younger and favourite son, in which he requested that if his father was

condemned, he might be allowed to change his lands for others in the

south, because he would never again “rejoice to abide here.”[1032]

Lord Hussey’s wavering fortunes since the insurrection have already been

traced. He had been accused, but never brought to trial; the accusation

had been allowed to fall into abeyance, but he had never been pardoned.

His trial was in one sense fairer than Darcy’s, but in another even less

fair. Darcy had openly committed treason, and borne arms against the

King, but he had been pardoned. Hussey had never received a pardon, and

consequently he was liable at any time to be brought to judgment for his

behaviour during the rising in Lincolnshire, but on the other hand he

had never committed any definitely treasonable act.

Hussey was arrested at about the same time as Darcy, and was imprisoned

in the Tower[1033]. He was present at Darcy’s first examination[1034].

His wife, who was living at Limehouse, was allowed to visit him, and he

repeated to her such of Darcy’s answers as are given above. All her

misfortunes had not taught Lady Hussey discretion. She repeated the

words to her servant Katharine Cresswell, the wife of Percival

Cresswell, and the story soon spread abroad[1035].

The evidence against Hussey was much less bulky than that against Darcy,

and it falls into two classes. The first was that relating to his

conduct during the Lincolnshire insurrection. This has been fully

discussed above[1036]. His acts all showed him to be loyal; he sent out

warnings, he tried to raise men, he kept his district quiet, and when

resistance was hopeless he fled to the royal camp. Against the evidence

of such conduct there was nothing to oppose but spiteful gossip,

conjectures and perversions of evidence. It was said that though he

received warning of the revolt on Monday, he did nothing until

Wednesday[1037], a statement which was contradicted by the Mayor of

Lincoln’s evidence that Hussey ordered him to prepare to resist the

rebels on Tuesday[1038]. It was brought up against Hussey that his

servant Cutler, when in the power of the rebels, had told them that his

master was at their commandment[1039], but as the rebels had two days

before killed Lord Borough’s servant because his master opposed them,

Cutler’s words were clearly an attempt to save his own life, and no

weight could attach to them. Finally Hussey was said to have ordered his

servants to hide his weapons, but the witness admitted that this was

probably to keep them out of the rebels’ hands[1040].

In Hussey’s case, as in Darcy’s, there was a second set of accusations

which really had more foundation in fact. He had been in communication

with the Imperial ambassador in 1534, although he had only sent him a

single message of no importance[1041]. His prosecutors laboured hard to

prove his earlier offence. On his arrest he had uttered some imprudent

words about the supper party with Darcy and Constable which had happened

so long ago[1042], but he gave a perfectly clear and simple account of

what had passed there[1043]. One witness was found who deposed that

Hussey had said two years before that heresy would never be mended

“without we fight,”[1044] but even the crown lawyers could not consider

this sufficient to condemn him, and in the end he was indicted only for

his share in the Lincolnshire rising.

Lord Hussey was tried with Darcy, pleaded not guilty, and was

condemned[1045]. No one seems to have made any effort to obtain the

King’s mercy on his behalf. If Norfolk had been in London he might have

done something. His connection with Hussey was not very creditable to

either, being based on the relationship which Norfolk’s mistress bore to

Hussey, but it was useful, as he had interceded for Hussey before[1046].

Norfolk went so far as to say that he was sorry for the sentence, though

no doubt it was deserved[1047]; the Duke suggested that Hussey might

have sent the rebels information during the insurrection[1048].

Hussey sent a petition to the King praying that his debts might be paid,

and earnestly asserting his innocence, but he made no useless appeal for

mercy[1049]. He remained in the Tower until late in June, when the King

resolved that he should be executed at Lincoln[1050]. On 28 June he left

the Tower on his last journey, in the custody of Sir Thomas

Wentworth[1051]. The King sent orders that he was to be beheaded and

that the Duke of Suffolk must supervise his death, “which we desire may

be done notably, with a declaration that of our clemency we have

pardoned all the rest of the judgment.”[1052] The exact date of his

death is not known, but it did not have altogether the required effect

of striking awe into the hearts of the people, as it was followed by a

riot in the city, about which unfortunately no details are

preserved[1053].

Hussey’s fate was more sordidly tragic than Darcy’s. Darcy died a martyr

to the faith which he loved; he desired nothing better than “so high

perfection,” and to pity him would be an impertinence. But Hussey was

killed merely to satisfy the causeless suspicion of the King and the

malice of his enemies. There is even reason to suppose that his

religious views had undergone some modification since he said he would

be no heretic. No religious rites are mentioned in his last petition to

the King[1054], and a friend had shortly before promised to send him “a

fair Bible.”[1055] The evidence is slender, and the point is not of much

importance; if we are right it serves to emphasise the needless cruelty

of his death.

The trial of the other Pilgrims followed immediately after that of the

two lords. On Wednesday 16 May 1537 at eight o’clock in the

morning[1056] Sir Francis Bigod, George Lumley, Sir John Bulmer,

Margaret Cheyne alias Lady Bulmer, Ralph Bulmer, Sir Thomas Percy, Sir

Stephen Hamerton, Sir Robert Constable and Robert Aske were tried in

Westminster Hall[1057] upon the indictment which had been returned as a

true bill at York and ran as follows:—

“That [the prisoners] did, 10 October 28 Henry VIII [1536] as false

traitors, with other traitors, at Sherburn, Yorks., conspire to

deprive the King of his title of Supreme Head of the English Church,

and to compel him to hold a certain Parliament and convocation of the

clergy of the realm, and did commit divers insurrections etc. at

Pontefract, divers days and times before the said 10 October. And at

Doncaster, 20 October 28 Henry VIII, traitorously assembled to levy

war, and so continued a long time. And although the King in his great

mercy pardoned the said [prisoners] their offences committed before 10

December 28 Henry VIII; nevertheless they, persevering in their

treasons, on 17 January 28 Henry VIII [1536–7] at Settrington,

Templehurst, Flamborough, Beverley and elsewhere, after the same

pardon, again falsely conspired for the above said purposes and to

annul divers wholesome laws made for the common weal, and to depose

the King; and to that end sent divers letters and messengers to each

other, 18 January 28 Henry VIII, and at other days and times after the

said pardon. And that Sir Francis Bigod and George Lumley, 21 January

28 Henry VIII, and divers days and times after the said pardon, at

Settrington, Beverley, and Scarborough, and elsewhere, with a great

multitude in arms, did make divers traitorous proclamations to call

men to them to make war against the King, and having thereby assembled

500 persons, did, 22 January 28 Henry VIII, levy war against the King.

And thus the said jury say that Bigod and Lumley conspired to levy

cruel war against the King. And moreover the said jury say that the

others above named, 22 January 28 Henry VIII etc. falsely and

traitorously abetted the said Bigod and Lumley in their said

treasons.”[1058]

The clumsy practice of including so many people accused of different

offences under one vague indictment makes it necessary to disentangle

each case in detail and in the order named above.

The Grey Friars’ Chronicler records that “On 13 March 1536–7 Sir Francis

Bigod was brought out of the North to the Tower through Smithfield and

in at Newgate, riding so through Cheapside and so to the Tower, and Sir

Ralph Ellerker leading him by the hand with that he was bound

withal.”[1059] Bigod was in the Tower for a little less than three

months, but the government was scandalously overcharged for his

maintenance, as the Lieutenant put his charges down for six months at

10_s._ a week[1060].

Before Sir Francis was sent up to London, he had been examined

repeatedly by Norfolk, who was rather annoyed that, though Bigod did not

disguise his own offence, he would not accuse anyone else except Gregory

Conyers[1061]. In his confession he was obliged to mention the names of

his brother Ralph and a friend Thomas Wentworth, but he was careful to

add, “and whereas I take testimony at [_call to witness_] my brother and

Mr Wentworth, I trust you will bear them no displeasure, and if you send

for them, do not say why, else the country and they will fear I have

accused them as councillors in this naughty matter of Hallam’s and mine,

of which [so] help me the blessed Body of God which yesterday I

received, an they are any [_sic_] more guilty than the child unborn; so

far as I know; and my mother, having no more children but us twain,

would be too full of sorrow.” Bigod’s confession ended with a petition

that, whatever his own fate might be, Norfolk would help two preachers,

Mr Jherom, who had not his fellow for preaching, and one Cervington,

“who in my country dare not come because he is a true favourer of God’s

word; he is a proper gentleman and honest, and can do good service at a

table among other qualities.”[1062] So Sir Francis concluded,

enigmatical to the last. He was about to die for the old religion, and

his last written words are a commendation of the new. His former friend

Latimer overlooked his backsliding and protected his widow and

children[1063].

Bigod’s accomplice George Lumley had been in the Tower since the

beginning of February. He was examined there on 8 Feb. by Cromwell and

Drs Tregonwell, Layton and Legh[1064]. Nothing is known about the

details of his imprisonment.

Sir Christopher Hailes, the Master of the Rolls, appeared against Bigod

and Lumley at their trial[1065]. They both pleaded not guilty, and were

both condemned[1066]. There can be no doubt as to the justice of their

sentence; their offences were apparent and openly confessed by

themselves. The simplicity of George Lumley’s conduct might have pleaded

for him in more favourable circumstances, but where there was little

hope of justice there was none at all of mercy. The King had a

particular reason for his death. It had seemingly been decided that the

government dared not attempt to arrest Lord Lumley, but he could be made

to suffer for his offences through his son.

After his trial George Lumley wrote to his wife to beg her to pay his

debts, of which he enclosed a list. His letter continued:

“Be good mother and natural to my three children to whom I give God’s

blessing and mine, desiring you further always to instruct my son to

honour God and be obedient to His laws, and next God to give his

diligent attendance to do his duty in loving, dreading and fearing his

presence (? _prince_), observing his laws and to be obedient to them,

and so doing I trust I shall pray in Heaven for you.”[1067]

The Bulmers were not long in the Tower, as Sir John and his wife had

been placed there on or after 21 April. Ralph Bulmer had been committed

to the Fleet, whence he wrote to Sir Oswald Wolsthrope on 6 May that he

doubted not but that the truth would justify the declaration of his

allegiance to his sovereign[1068]. Before the trial he was sent to join

his father in the Tower[1069]. Humphrey Browne serjeant-at-law conducted

the prosecution against Sir John and Lady Bulmer, and John Baker the

attorney-general against Ralph Bulmer[1070].

The case against Sir John was fairly clear, although the most

incriminating piece of evidence, his letter to his brother Sir William

Bulmer, was not discovered until nine months after his death, when it

came to light in consequence of a family quarrel. On 23 February 1537–8

Sir William visited his wife and had a violent dispute with her over

some of her title deeds. After he had left her, she imagined that he

might have taken possession of some valuable documents, and proceeded

with the help of a servant and a friar to go through her husband’s

papers. Among them she discovered Sir John’s letter, and seeing that it

was treasonable, she laid it before the Council of the North, “as in

duty bound,” said Bishop Tunstall[1071]. Sir William was arrested and

imprisoned in Pontefract Castle in consequence of her information, and

from his examination some particulars of Sir John’s conduct appear,

which were not known at his trial in 1537[1072]. Nevertheless enough was

proved by the evidence of his chaplain William Staynhus, who seems to

have saved his life by turning King’s evidence against his master and

mistress. He was corroborated to some extent by Lord Lumley, John Watts,

and Ralph Bulmer’s confession[1073].

Just before the trial Norfolk sent up to London some papers which he had

seized at Sir John Bulmer’s house. He admitted that these letters had

been written before the pardon, but said that they showed that “no man

had a more cankered heart” than Sir John, for “I think ye never read

more lewd nor more malicious letters which I, Babthorpe, Thirleby and

Uvedale every of us have perused his part for haste.”[1074] No letters

which correspond with this description have been preserved. They must

have been written to Sir John, unless he, like Darcy, kept copies of his

own letters, of which there is no proof. Most of the letters to Sir John

which are still extant were written after the pardon and are very loyal

in tone[1075]. There is also a collection of deeds relating to the

Bulmer estates[1076], and one family letter[1077]. The only papers which

could be turned against Sir John Bulmer relate to the monastery of

Guisborough; one was the order sent by the Pilgrims’ council of York,

which directed Sir John to maintain the Prior of Guisborough in the

enjoyment of his office, and the other was an appeal sent by the Prior

to Sir John for help in the management of his unruly monks[1078]. As the

Prior had been put in by Cromwell, this appeal is evidence rather in

favour of Sir John, but it was very dangerous for any gentleman to

meddle in the affairs of a monastery, and an equally innocent document

was sufficient to cost the lives of Percy, Hamerton and Tempest. It may

be, therefore, that these were the lewd letters to which Norfolk

referred.

Sir John Bulmer had not borne arms against the King since the pardon,

but he had become involved in a succession of plots, none of them

sufficiently well-contrived for success, but each enough to cost him his

life. His case shows the danger which the over-severity of the law

brought upon the government. Sir John had been drawn into treason by

accident. There is no proof that he desired Sir Francis Bigod’s

confidence, or that he wished to help him. His original crime was a

natural reluctance to hand his nephew over to the executioner. Knowing

that the government would refuse to take this into consideration, he was

driven by terror and despair from plot to plot, whereas if he could have

expected mercy, he would probably have committed himself no further.

The charges against Margaret and Ralph Bulmer rested only on the

evidence of William Staynhus and Sir John himself, the two men whom

above all others they must have believed to be most trustworthy[1079].

It is not just to blame Sir John too much for this. In his written

confession he neither admitted his own guilt nor accused anyone else. He

offered to find a hidden treasure for the King, which was perhaps as

good a defence as any[1080]. But a weak-willed, impetuous man of his

type must have been helpless under cross-examination. He was brought to

confess his own offences, and those of his family, although against the

will of his judges he persisted in calling Margaret his wife to the

last[1081]. Their union may have been irregular, but it was founded on

sincere affection. Margaret knew all his plans; she hoped for success

while success was possible, and when all had failed she counselled him

to fly and save both their lives. Sir William Bulmer’s lawful wife

dutifully betrayed him. Margaret was faithful to the last. She seems to

have given no evidence and made no confession.

Ralph Bulmer was accused both of foreknowledge of Bigod’s rising and of

sending treasonable messages from London. The only witness against him

who is named is his father[1082].

At the trial Sir John and Margaret pleaded not guilty, but Ralph’s plea

is not recorded. After the jury had retired, however, they withdrew

their plea and substituted guilty. In consequence of this the jury was

exonerated from giving a verdict and they were both condemned, Sir John

to the usual penalty for treason, Margaret to be burnt. The jury was

also exonerated from giving a verdict in Ralph’s case, and he was

re-committed to the Tower[1083]. His name remains carved on the wall in

the Beauchamp Tower. He was still imprisoned there in the following year

and it is not certain when, if ever, he was released[1084].

Sir Thomas Percy and his brother Sir Ingram had come up to London

immediately after Norfolk’s arrival in the north. As they were perfectly

well aware that the King was anxious to get rid of them, the very fact

of their coming shows a strong conviction of innocence. There are two

points in Sir Thomas’ behaviour since the pardon which are suspicious,

but it is a remarkable circumstance that neither of these is mentioned

in the notes for the proceedings against him. The first was his

interview with William Leache, the Lincolnshire fugitive, as deposed by

George Shuttleworth. The second was the meeting at Rothbury in January,

at which he was alleged to have forced some gentlemen to take the

Pilgrims’ oath. As neither of these charges was brought forward, it must

be concluded that the evidence was insufficient to support them. There

was in fact nothing to show what passed between Sir Thomas and Leache;

it is not even certain that he knew who Leache was, as the fugitive may

have concealed his name. The evidence with regard to the Rothbury

meeting rests on an unsigned paper which was probably drawn up by Sir

Reynold Carnaby, the Percys’ mortal enemy.

The charges which were brought against Sir Thomas might be substantiated

by evidence, but they were of a very trivial character in themselves, as

they rested merely upon letters which had been sent to him, for which he

could not justly be considered responsible. The prosecution laid great

stress on the Abbot of Sawley’s supplication, yet it was not only

harmless in itself, but Sir Thomas could not possibly have prevented the

Abbot from writing and sending it. Sir Thomas’ reply was non-committal,

and the only accusation which could be founded upon it was that he had

not arrested the messenger, a step for which there was no apparent

reason[1085].

The second incriminating document was Bigod’s letter, which was

forwarded to Sir Thomas by his mother. To this he had returned no

answer, and he declared that it was respect for his mother which had

prevented him from arresting the messenger, her servant[1086].

The third alleged letter was a very mysterious one, connected with the

rising in Richmondshire. Ninian Staveley deposed that the Abbot of

Jervaux and the quondam Abbot of Fountains ordered himself, Middleton,

Lobley and Servant to send a message to Sir Thomas Percy, bidding him

come forward. They sent a servant to Northumberland, after Twelfth Day

[6 January 1536–7], and the man told them on his return that Sir Thomas

had written down their names and had said that he would send for them

when he came to the country. Both the abbots denied that they had sent

any such message[1087]. Sir Thomas never referred to the matter in his

deposition, and the supposed messenger was never named or produced.

Staveley was quite untrustworthy, and it is probable that the story was

a mere invention.

Sir Thomas was further charged with his disorderly behaviour in

Northumberland[1088], and with George Lumley’s statement that he was the

“lock, key and ward of this matter.”[1089] There were some grounds for

the first of these two charges, although it rested on the testimony of

his enemy. As for the second, Lumley had been careful to explain that he

was describing Sir Thomas’ influence in Yorkshire, and did not mean that

he had any particular knowledge of the new insurrection.

Sir Stephen Hamerton came up to London as unsuspiciously as Sir Thomas

Percy. He was examined in the Tower on 25 April by Tregonwell, Layton

and Legh[1090]. The only points alleged against him were the occurrence

of his name in the Abbot of Sawley’s supplication and his meeting with

the Abbot’s messenger[1091]. Even the prosecution admitted that in this

there was no matter against him except before the pardon[1092], but as

usual it was laid to his charge that he had not arrested the

messenger[1093]. A modern lawyer might as well accuse a man of failing

to arrest the postman who delivered a letter containing a forged cheque.

There was a general feeling in the north that messengers ought to have

something of the privilege of heralds; their exemption from

responsibility was both convenient and just, as they were servants who

were obliged to obey their masters’ orders, and did not necessarily know

the contents of the letters that they carried. The government was doing

its best to destroy this privileged position.

John Hynde, King’s serjeant-at-law, who had been so successful in

Lincolnshire, conducted the prosecution of Sir Thomas Percy and Sir

Stephen Hamerton[1094]. Like the Bulmers they first pleaded not guilty,

and then withdrew the plea and substituted guilty[1095]. There is

something suspicious in this change. The King was always anxious to

obtain a confession of guilt from those whom he intended to execute, and

he did not care what means were employed to attain his object. It is

possible that the prisoners were induced to plead guilty by the promise

of a mitigated sentence.

Sir Stephen Hamerton was probably a victim to his feud with the

Stanleys[1096]. No other reason can be found for his condemnation, as

the extant evidence against him is trifling and he had not distinguished

himself during the insurrection. The Earl of Derby had done Henry good

service; he probably interested himself in his cousin’s quarrel, and if

he asked for any favour from the King, such as the life of a man, he was

not likely to be refused. Sir Stephen’s son Henry Hamerton died about

two months after his father; it was said that his death was caused by

grief at his father’s execution[1097].

Sir Robert Constable was arrested about the same time as Lord

Darcy[1098]. He was examined, but his answers have not been

preserved[1099]. The evidence against him was of the slightest

description. He had been present at the famous dinner party when Darcy,

Hussey, and he declared themselves no heretics[1100], but there was and

is nothing to show that he knew of Darcy’s communications with Chapuys.

At the beginning of the Lincolnshire rising he “took Philips, a captain

of the commons of Lincolnshire, servant to Lord Hussey, and brought him

to the lords at Nottingham.” They sent Sir Robert to pacify the East

Riding, with orders to join Darcy at Pontefract “if the commons were in

great number.” He was in the Castle when it was surrendered, but he

could not be considered responsible for the act of the commander[1101].

The principal evidence against him was based on the letters which he had

received from and sent to Bigod[1102]. In particular Bigod had said that

there was no man whom the commons trusted so much as Constable[1103]. In

his reply Sir Robert urged Bigod to give up his purpose. The concluding

words of his letter, in the original draft which is in Aske’s

handwriting, were “Thus in all your worshipful affairs our Lord be your

governor.”[1104] It is very much to be wished that the history of this

draft could be traced. Perhaps after writing it Aske handed it over to a

servant to be copied. This was Lord Darcy’s method of letter-writing.

The copy would be sent to Bigod, and the original would remain in the

possession of Sir Robert Constable, at whose house it was written. The

copy might fall into the hands of the government when Bigod’s, and the

draft when Constable’s, papers were seized[1105]. But the copy, if it

ever existed, has not been preserved.

There is a reason for this theorising. At Constable’s trial a certified

copy of the letter was produced, but it does not tally with the draft.

The most important difference is in the conclusion, which, in the

certified copy, runs “Thus in your worshipful affair, our Lord be your

governor.”[1106] The prosecution, of course, insisted that Bigod’s

“worshipful affair” was the insurrection, and that Constable was praying

for its success. The phrase “all your worshipful affairs” has much less

significance. Unless the theory outlined above is accepted as the

history of the letter, the certified copy must have been deliberately

altered from the original draft to strengthen the case against Sir

Robert. On the other hand, if a copy of the original draft was sent to

Bigod, it may have contained whether by accident or intention, the

slight but important variation in the conclusion. Yet if such a version

were in the possession of the government there seems no necessity for a

certified copy.

Constable was accused, like Darcy, of saying that the King had promised

a general pardon and a free parliament. He had also told the commons to

stay only until the Duke of Norfolk came[1107]. To this he replied that

such were the King’s orders: “The King’s letters to me were to stay the

country till the Duke of Norfolk’s coming, and so I did.”[1108] But it

was useless to plead his own orders to Henry when he did not choose to

acknowledge them.

Constable’s letter which requested Rudston to liberate Bigod’s

messengers was brought forward, and also the mythical letter to the

mayor of Hull for the deliverance of Hallam[1109]. These letters have

been discussed above[1110].

Finally Constable was one of the leaders to whom Levening had appealed,

and in his case, as in the others, Levening’s acquittal was

overlooked[1111].

When the prisoners were brought out of the Tower for trial, a mistake

was made in the destination of Sir Robert Constable and Lady Bulmer, who

were sent first to the Guild Hall. The trial took place in Westminster

Hall, and the two mis-sent prisoners were despatched thither[1112]. At

the trial Sir Thomas Willoughby, serjeant-at-law, appeared against both

Constable and Aske[1113]. Sir Robert pleaded not guilty and maintained

the plea, whatever inducements may have been used to make him withdraw

it. The jury returned a verdict of guilty[1114].

Sir Marmaduke Constable the younger was honourably free from the fear or

coldness which kept the relations of the other prisoners from exertions

on their behalf. He was now in London doing what he could for his

father, who wrote to tell him how to use in his favour all the influence

at court which the Constable family possessed. Sir Robert had hopes of

obtaining the intercession of Lord Beauchamp, the Earl of Rutland, and

the Queen, to whom he was distantly related. If all were in vain he

charged his son to see that his debts were paid[1115]. Sir Robert

petitioned Cromwell, not for his life, but for the payment of these

debts. He had no money himself; it had all been spent during his

imprisonment, for prisoners had to maintain themselves in the Tower, as

the government allowance went into the Lieutenant’s pocket. Four

gentlemen had lately been Sir Robert’s sureties for a payment to the

King, and he particularly desired that they should not be allowed to

lose by their bond; “Alas, that these poor gentlemen that were so lately

bound for me and never had profit by me should be undone!”[1116] The

matter weighed upon his mind, and before his death he sent in another

list of his debts[1117].

Robert Aske went up to London on 24 March[1118]. He knew that he was

going into danger, and left a horse at Buntingford in order that he

might send back a message as to how he fared[1119]. It need hardly be

explained that this cannot have been with any idea of a fresh rising, as

all the other leaders came up to London at the same time; it was simply

a private means of communication with his friends. On 7 April 1537 he

was arrested and committed to the Tower[1120]. He was repeatedly

examined and both the interrogatories and the replies have fortunately

been preserved[1121]. It is easy to see why this happened. Darcy’s and

Constable’s examinations can have been only of personal interest, but

Aske’s were of real value to the government. They describe the state of

the north and the whole course of the rebellion as seen by a very

thoughtful and able man. In writing his long, careful answers to the

interrogatories Aske perhaps cherished to the last a desperate hope that

he might do some good to his country. His cause had failed, his life was

forfeit, but his words might still be carried to the King’s ear and

might have some effect. His most elaborate replies were begun on 11

April, almost immediately after his arrest and imprisonment, and were

continued on the 15th. His next set, undated, but written later,

concluded with a partly illegible petition to his examiners:

“I most humbly beseech you all to be so good unto me ... measures or

by your favor to my lord privey ... yt mr ... tenant myght discherg my

comyns to myn hostes as ... might know ... whether I might send for my

rentes or fees or not without any ... disples ... to any man for onles

the kinges highnes and my lord privey seall be mercifull and gracius

unto me.... I am not able to lyf for non of my frendes will not do

nothing for me, and I have ned to have a payre of hous a dublet of

fusthean a shirt for I have but one shirt her and a pare of showes I

beseech you hertely that I may know your mynd herin and how I shalbe

ordered yt I may trust to the same for the luf of god.”[1122]

No attention was paid to this pitiful appeal. On 11 May Aske was

examined for the last time by Dr Legh and John ap Rice. At the end of

his replies is another petition:

“Good mr doctor I beseech you to send me mony and my stuf as a shirt a

paire of hous a dublite and a paire of shown for nether I have mony

nor ger to were as ye sawe yourself for the reverence of god send me

the same or els I know not how to do nor lyf and that mr pollerd be

remembred for the same.”[1123]

Aske had now been more than a month in the Tower without the common

necessities of life. He remained there about two months longer, and some

sort of allowance must have been made to him, as the King wanted him to

be kept alive for the royal purposes.

There was one charge against Aske which, if it could have been proved,

would have warranted his condemnation, but it was not discovered until

after his execution and was never properly investigated. On 2 August

1537 the Bishop of Rochester informed Cromwell that he had arrested at

Bromley a priest called Matthew Fisher, who confessed that he had fled

from the north at Whitsuntide. This priest stated that on Midlent

Sunday, 11 March 1536–7, the captains of “his country” had received

letters from Aske which ordered them to rise again, and 400 men had

mustered, he himself being among them. The Bishop added that he believed

there were other fugitives in his diocese who had fled from the north

when Aske was arrested[1124]. There seems to be no foundation for this

vague story. The Bishop never mentioned the name of Fisher’s “country,”

but it is certain that in Midlent Aske was riding in Norfolk’s train

under close surveillance[1125]. The reports from the north on and after

11 March are full, and not a word is said of any stirring[1126], while

the royal lieutenants were so anxiously watchful that it was impossible

for 400 men to muster without some report reaching one of them. The

Bishop, who may not have been very well informed about northern affairs,

probably misunderstood Fisher, who was perhaps concerned in the

Cumberland or the Richmond rising; or possibly Fisher was one of the

half-insane informers who appear from time to time.

Apart from this, the evidence against Aske is the same which has been

repeated with wearisome regularity in the cases of Darcy and Constable.

There is a certain probability that Aske knew about the intended

rebellion before it broke out, but there was no proof of this

foreknowledge then and there is none now. Aske had taken a small part in

the Lincolnshire rebellion, but for that the King had expressly pardoned

him[1127]. It was objected against him that during the insurrection he

made himself the chief rebel and that at the same time he had “a proud

and traitorous heart,”[1128] but for this also the King had pardoned

him.

By Norfolk’s advice Aske was questioned as to what had become of his

money, “for he received no small sums in these countries of abbots,

priors and others during the insurrection.”[1129] It was highly

characteristic that Norfolk should imagine Aske to have been quietly

feathering his own nest by extortions from the religious houses which he

was nominally defending, but an insurrection is a costly affair and Aske

had spent all the money he could obtain as fast as he received it on

necessary expenses. He had made a declaration of the spoils that he had

shared in when he was at Court, and the King was then “gracious to him

therein.”[1130]

As Aske’s replies are preserved, some of the evidence which was brought

against both himself and Darcy is discredited. He had received no

message from Darcy on going up to London for the first time[1131], and

he had informed Norfolk of Levening’s petition[1132]. Like Constable he

was charged with an attempt to secure the liberation of Hallam and of

Bigod’s messengers[1133], and with bidding the commons stay only till

the Duke of Norfolk’s coming[1134].

The chief point against him, as against the others, was that in the

middle of January he still expected that there would be a parliament,

convocation and a general pardon; thereby showing that if his

“unreasonable requests” were not granted, he would “revive his traitor’s

heart.”[1135] He had written to Darcy on 8 January 1536–7 that the King

had granted free election of knights and burgesses, and free speech in

convocation. He concluded, “Trusting your Lordship shall perceive I have

done my duty as well to the King’s grace, under his favour, as also to

my country, and have played my part, and thereby I trust all England

shall rejoice.” This was held to prove that “he continues in his

traitor’s heart and rejoices in his treasons, and it is to be noted that

he, by writing of the same letter, committeth a new treason.”[1136] He

also committed a new treason by saying to the commons “your reasonable

petitions shall be ordered in parliament.”[1137]

Although it was plainly treason that Aske should believe the King’s

promise, it was also treason to write that “it was reported the King

would not be as good as he promised concerning the church lands.”[1138]

This lost letter of Aske’s has already been discussed[1139].

These accusations were based chiefly on the papers which had been seized

at Aske’s lodgings in London when he was arrested[1140]. He does not

seem to have kept copies of the letters which he wrote, except in the

case of one manifesto[1141]. There are only thirteen letters preserved

which were written to him and of these seven are copies which were in

the possession of other people[1142]. The remaining six must have been

found in his rooms[1143]. The leader of a prolonged insurrection must

have had many more documents than this meagre number. When he was

interrogated about them his reply was, “To his remembrance they [the

papers] be in his chamber in his brother’s house and in the chamber in

Wressell Castle where he lay; albeit he thinks there be few at Wressell,

but they be all in his said chamber or else in some other place in his

brother’s house, where his servants left them. Also he thinks there be

some in a little coffer which his niece keeps, which is plated with

silver [?] ... there unlocked in his brother’s house at Aughton.... Also

there be bills of complaint betwixt party and party during that time in

a little trussing coffer in his said niece’s chamber, albeit to his

remembrance they be but of small effect touching any article of the

petitions or requirements, and if he can remember there be any writings

in any other place, he shall always declare the same as it cometh to his

remembrance.”[1144]

With these ample directions Norfolk caused the papers at Aughton to be

seized, but a certain mystery envelopes their fate. On the day of the

trial, 17 May, Cromwell wrote to Norfolk for the papers, which he had

expected to receive long before. Norfolk’s reply was curiously

shuffling. He expressed deep regret that they had not been sent earlier.

He had devoted all one night to reading them, with two helpers, and he

had believed that they were sent up to London long ago. The bearer of

the letter would explain how they had been forgotten. Amid all these

apologies Norfolk never said that he was now sending or that he would

send the papers[1145]. They have never been discovered, and it is

probable that they never left the north. A great many people there must

have been interested in their suppression, and Norfolk may have been

bribed to destroy them, or they may even have been stolen. In any case

they certainly were not produced at the trial.

Aske, like Constable, pleaded not guilty; both were found guilty and

condemned to death[1146].

The other prisoners, James Cockerell, quondam Prior of Guisborough,

Nicholas Tempest of Bashall, William Wood, Prior of Bridlington, John

Pickering of Lythe, clerk, John Pickering of Bridlington, friar, Adam

Sedbar, Abbot of Jervaux, and William Thirsk, quondam Abbot of

Fountains, were brought up for trial on the same indictment, but were

remanded until the next day, Thursday 17 May[1147].

James Cockerell, the quondam Prior of Guisborough, was arrested shortly

after Easter by Sir Ralph Evers[1148], and was on his way up to London

as a prisoner on 19 April[1149].

The case against him was, first, that about Martinmas Sir Francis Bigod

had attempted to restore him to his house[1150]; this was covered by the

pardon.

Second, he had read and praised Sir Francis’ book about the royal

supremacy since the pardon. He confessed that he had read the book, but

denied that he had praised it[1151].

Third, he had heard Sir Francis throw doubts upon the King’s

pardon[1152].

The only witness against him who is mentioned was Sir Francis Bigod; the

prosecution was conducted by John Baker, the attorney-general[1153].

Cockerell pleaded not guilty, but was found guilty by the jury[1154].

Under the new law of treason the fact that he listened to Sir Francis’

book without arresting the author was sufficient to constitute his

guilt.

Orders were sent to Norfolk for the arrest of Nicholas Tempest, to which

he replied on 31 March that if Tempest were summoned to London he would

go without hesitation, as he was in no fear[1155]. Accordingly he was

summoned, together with Sir Stephen Hamerton and the Prior of

Bridlington, on 7 April[1156]. It was no wonder that he went without

fear, as the sole charge against him was that he had been mentioned in

the Abbot of Sawley’s supplication to Sir Thomas Percy, which even the

prosecution admitted was “no apparent matter against” him[1157]. It was

stated in general terms that he was a “principal doer in the second

insurrection,” but of this there was absolutely no evidence[1158]. He

was accused of maintaining the Abbot of Sawley, and in particular it was

said that he had sent provisions to the monastery, but this was during

the first insurrection and ought to have been covered by the

pardon[1159]. William Whorwood, the solicitor-general, appeared against

him at the trial[1160]. Tempest pleaded not guilty, but was

condemned[1161]. It is probable that he owed his death to the feud

between his family and the Savilles. Sir Henry Saville had been loyal

during the insurrection, and he was now reaping his reward. He had the

ear of the Government, and was able to dispose of his enemies who had

joined the rebels[1162]. There does not appear to have been any other

reason for Nicholas Tempest’s death, as he was both innocent and

inconspicuous.

William Wood, the Prior of Bridlington, came unsuspiciously up to London

with Nicholas Tempest. There was, however, a little more evidence

against him than against his companion. He was accused of giving aid to

Lumley during his occupation of Scarborough in the second insurrection.

The Prior’s defence was that on hearing the first news of the rising he

had warned Matthew Boynton; that he agreed with the neighbouring

gentlemen to defend Bridlington against the rebels, that he had called

out his own men for this purpose, and that he had endeavoured to prevent

them from joining the rebels[1163]. Matthew Boynton did not altogether

bear out this story. He said that he had sent to the Prior for help to

take Bigod and that the Prior had refused it to him. The Prior replied

that he had needed all his men for his own protection[1164].

The Prior’s chief offence had been committed during the Pilgrimage. He

had read and praised Friar Pickering’s rhyme beginning “O faithful

people,” and had given money to the insurgents[1165]. The King was

exceedingly sensitive to ballad criticism, and the Prior’s conduct

during Bigod’s rising was sufficiently suspicious to give an excuse for

bringing him to the scaffold. The solicitor-general conducted the case

against the Prior[1166], who pleaded not guilty, but was

condemned[1167].

John Pickering of Pickering Lythe, clerk, seems to have been arrested

solely because he was Sir Francis Bigod’s chaplain[1168]. He was

imprisoned in the Marshalsea, where on 2 June he made a deposition

against the Bulmers, although they had been executed the week

before[1169]. No evidence against him has been preserved. He pleaded not

guilty, and was condemned[1170], but eventually he was pardoned[1171].

Friar John Pickering, his namesake, was a prominent Pilgrim, and the

author of the popular rhyme just referred to. He had attended the

council of divines at Pontefract, and had argued against the royal

supremacy[1172]. From the first it was known that he had taken part in

Bigod’s insurrection, and the King ordered his arrest on 22

February[1173]. For a short while he evaded pursuit[1174], but he was

captured and despatched to London before 22 March[1175]. He confessed to

carrying messages from Bigod to Hallam, and to informing Bigod about the

state of Durham[1176]. In his case, at any rate, there was no

miscarriage of justice. He had worked for his cause until the last, and

had failed.

Adam Sedbar, the Abbot of Jervaux, was arrested early in March[1177] and

sent up to the Tower, where his name may still be seen inscribed on the

wall. He was not a popular landlord, and had taken part in the

Pilgrimage to some extent against his will. He was examined twice, first

on 25 April and again on 24 May, just before his execution. He

maintained his innocence to the last, and declared that the insurrection

had little to do with religion, but was the work of the discontented

commons[1178].

The case against him was as follows:—

(1) About Christmas he had sent a servant into Lincolnshire to report on

the state of the country. The servant brought back word that the

Lincolnshire men were “busily hanged,” and on this news the Abbot began

to plot a new insurrection.

(2) He gave money to Ninian Staveley and others for the purpose of

inducing them to rebel.

(3) He ordered Staveley to send a message to Sir Thomas Percy that he

must come forward to help the Abbot in the new rising.

(4) When the men of Richmondshire rose, the Abbot sent his servants to

join them, and promised them further help[1179].

The Abbot’s defence was:—

(1) He had sent the servant to Lincolnshire only to collect the rents

belonging to the Abbey and for no other purpose.

(2) He had ordered money to be given to Staveley and his companion by

way of a tip, because they had been trying to find some lost sheep

belonging to the Abbey.

(3) He had never sent or ordered a message to Sir Thomas Percy.

(4) He knew nothing about the Richmondshire insurrection until the

commons surrounded the Abbey and insisted upon carrying off his

servants. As soon as they had gone, the Abbot fled to Bolton Castle,

where he remained with Lord Scrope until the tumult was over[1180].

Staveley and Middleton, the witnesses against the Abbot, were men of bad

character, and on the whole it is probable that the Abbot’s defence was

true and that his only crime was his office.

William Thirsk, the quondam Abbot of Fountains, lived at Jervaux, and

was involved in the same charges as Sedbar[1181]. His defence was the

same and was equally sound. Both were found guilty and condemned to

death[1182].

On Friday 25 May 1537 Sir John Bulmer, Sir Stephen Hamerton, Nicholas

Tempest, James Cockerell, the quondam Prior of Guisborough, William

Thirsk, the quondam Abbot of Fountains, and Pickering were executed at

Tyburn. Bulmer and Hamerton enjoyed the privilege of their knighthood

and “were but hanged and headed.” The others suffered the full penalty

of the law. Their heads were set on London Bridge and the gates of

London[1183].

These executions had, on the whole, a settling effect on the country.

The reformers were delighted. The large and powerful class who desired

peace above everything were reassured. Most of the conservatives were

frightened into silence. But one Yorkshire man called William Moke, who

was present at the executions, felt such indignation that when he heard

Sir Richard Tempest and Thomas Grice were summoned to London he set out

at once to warn them not to come. He foolishly mentioned his object at

an inn in Lincolnshire, and as innkeepers were among the best of

Cromwell’s sources of information, Moke was at once arrested and brought

back to London[1184].

On the day when Sir John Bulmer died, 25 May, another execution took

place. Lady Bulmer, or Margaret Cheyne as she was called, was drawn

after the other prisoners from the Tower to Smithfield and there burnt.

Burning was the ancient penalty for treason in the case of a woman, but

it was seldom exacted. The poor women in Somersetshire, for instance,

suffered the same fate as the men. The death of Margaret caused some

sensation at the time. There is a touch of pathos even in the dry record

of Wriothesley’s Chronicle; she was burnt, he says, “according to her

judgment, God pardon her soul, being the Friday in Whitsun week: she was

a very fair creature and a beautiful.”[1185] At Thame in Oxfordshire her

fate was discussed on the Sunday before she died. Robert Jons said that

it was a pity she should suffer. John Strebilhill, the informer,

answered, “It is no pity, if she be a traitor to her prince, but that

she should have after her deserving.” This warned Jons to be careful,

and he merely replied, “Let us speak no more of this matter, for men may

be blamed for speaking the truth.”[1186]

Froude says, “Lady Bulmer seems from the depositions to have deserved as

serious punishment as any woman for the crime of high treason can be

said to have deserved.” The depositions show only that she believed the

commons were ready to rebel again, and that the Duke of Norfolk alone

could prevent the new rebellion. In addition to this she kept her

husband’s secrets and tried to save his life. She committed no overt act

of treason; her offences were merely words and silence. The reason for

her execution does not lie in the heinous nature of her offence, but

Henry was not gratuitously cruel, and her punishment had an object. It

was intended as an example to others. There can be no doubt that many

women were ardent supporters of the Pilgrimage. Lady Hussey and the

dowager Countess of Northumberland were both more guilty than Lady

Bulmer. Other names have occurred from time to time, Mistress Stapleton,

old Sir Marmaduke Constable’s wife, who sheltered Levening[1187], and

young Lady Evers. But these were all ladies of blameless character and

of respectable, sometimes powerful, families. Henry knew that in the

excited state of public opinion it would be dangerous to meddle with

them. His reign was not by any means an age of chivalry, but there still

remained a good deal of the old tribal feeling about women, that they

were the most valuable possessions of the clan, and that if any

stranger, even the King, touched them all the men of the clan were

disgraced. An illustration of this occurred in Scotland during the same

year (1537). James V brought to trial, condemned, and burnt Lady Glamis

on a charge of high treason[1188]. She was a lady of great family and

James brought upon himself and his descendants a feud which lasted for

more than sixty years[1189].

James’ uncle Henry VIII was more politic. He selected as the

demonstration of his object-lesson to husbands, which should teach them

to distrust their wives, and to wives, which should teach them to dread

their husbands’ confidence, a woman of no family and irregular life,

dependent on the head of a falling house. This insignificance, which

might have saved a man, was in her case an additional danger. She had no

avenger but her baby son, and we only hear of one friendly voice raised

to pity her death. The King’s object-lesson was most satisfactorily

accomplished.

On Saturday 2 June 1537 Sir Thomas Percy, Sir Francis Bigod, George

Lumley, Adam Sedbar the Abbot of Jervaux, and William Wood the Prior of

Bridlington were executed at Tyburn. Sir Thomas Percy was beheaded, and

was buried at the church of the Crutched Friars on Tower Hill[1190]; the

others suffered the full penalty and their heads were exposed on London

Bridge and elsewhere[1191].

Darcy, Hussey, Aske and Constable were still in the Tower, but with

these exceptions the end of the treason trials and executions had been

reached.

It is customary at this point to comment on the stolid indifference of

the general public to such events, but a study of contemporary

depositions shows that this placidity has been rather over-rated. Short

of another insurrection, there was no way in which sympathy could be

expressed with the sufferers; the lightest words laid a man at the mercy

of any chance informer. Yet a perceptible murmur followed the death of

the northern men. Thomas Strangways, Thomas Neville, William Moke,

Robert Jons, Lord Delaware, Lord Cobham and Lord Montague each in his

way uttered a protest which must have voiced the feelings of many others

who dared not speak or who escaped detection. The feeling of Scotland

was probably expressed by the Bishop of Aberdeen. “Ye have put down many

good Christian men,” he said to an English pursuivant, and when the

latter protested, added, “ye that are poor men are good, but the heads

are the worst.”[1192] The Spanish Chronicler, who seems to have come to

England a few years later and depended for his information entirely on

hearsay, never even mentions the second insurrection. His story is that

the people were pacified by the King’s promises, that as soon as there

was no danger of any further rising Aske was persuaded by fair words to

reveal the names of those who had helped him, and that the King then

threw off the mask and caused all the leaders to be executed[1193].

The attitude of the King’s apologists is also very significant. Knowing

that Henry’s conduct was always severely criticised in France, Cromwell

wrote to Sir Thomas Wyatt, the English ambassador there, that he must

affirm that, although it was true Darcy and the others had been

pardoned, yet they had all most ungratefully offended again and were

justly sentenced to death. If it had not been for their second treason,

the King would never have remembered their former crime[1194]. In 1546

William Thomas wrote a panegyric of Henry VIII in the form of a dialogue

between an Englishman and an Italian. The Italian objects against Henry,

“After the Insurrection in the North, when he had pardoned the first

rebellers against him, contrary unto his promise did he not cause a

number of the most noble of them, by divers torments to be put to

death?” Thomas of course makes the usual answer, that they had offended

a second time[1195]; but the objection shows that the executions were

not accepted as just, and were not forgotten, or Thomas would have had

no occasion to allude to them. Finally the Yorkshire Chronicler, Wilfred

Holme, begins by stating that the pardon was not universal:—

“And to the Duke of Norfolk’s intercession

There was granted a pardon and that general,

From Don to Tweed for their whole transgression

Of all contempts and trespasses as well as things vital

_Nine_ only reserved.”

But he presently adds that later these nine were also pardoned at

Norfolk’s intercession[1196].

Considering the conditions of the period it may be said that this was

quite a powerful body of criticism to be directed against Henry. He was

exceedingly sensitive to public opinion, and although he had still a

number of prisoners on his hands the executions ceased. There was a

simpler way of disposing of the prisoners which attracted less

attention. The plague was raging in London, and a few months in one of

the prisons were enough to prevent anyone obnoxious to the King from

troubling his Majesty again.

Sir Richard Tempest’s case illustrates this point. On 11 March 1536–7

the Earl of Sussex reported to Norfolk that Sir Richard “was neither

good first nor last.”[1197] He was accused of having called out the men

of Halifax before 10 October 1536[1198], which was the date of the

beginning of the insurrection for the purposes of the pardon. A letter

of his to Sir George Darcy was discovered in which he declared that he

would take Lord Darcy’s part against any lord in England[1199]. Sir

Richard Tempest was summoned to appear in London during Trinity term to

answer these charges, or others[1200]. William Moke’s warning never

reached him[1201], and on 2 June 1537 Norfolk thanked Cromwell for

telling him that the King “did not much favour” Sir Richard[1202].

Tempest came up to London and was thrown into the Fleet. He petitioned

Cromwell to be released on bail, because he was in jeopardy of his life,

“the weather is so hot and contagious and the plague so sore in the

city.”[1203] His petition was disregarded and on 25 August he died. “He

willed his heart to be taken out of his body and carried to his own

country, to be buried in the place he had prepared for his corpse and

his wife’s to lie in.”[1204]

Some prisoners fared better than this. William Aclom’s name is mentioned

among those who were accused of treason[1205], but he was not included

in the indictment. Leonard Beckwith summoned him before the Court of

Star Chamber for robberies committed during the insurrection[1206] and

Aclom was imprisoned in the Fleet until his case should be tried. He

made himself comfortable there by marrying the sister of the keeper,

with the result that Beckwith complained Aclom had “a very small

imprisonment.”[1207]

Aclom’s case was exceptional and several of the other prisoners must

have died. Thomas Strangways was sick at the time of his arrest, and

did not long survive[1208]. Robert Thompson the vicar of

Brough-under-Stainmoor was arrested before 24 February. Norfolk

proposed that he should be tried and executed at Carlisle, although

there was no proof that he had taken any part in the second

insurrection, except that he had once prayed for the Pope[1209].

Thompson was sent up to London on 8 March[1210], and was examined in

the Tower on 20 March[1211]. He was never brought to trial, but from

the Tower he was transferred to the King’s Bench Prison where he found

“his body ... what with years, what with corrupt and stinking smells,

what with cold and hunger, so sore pricked” that he earnestly

petitioned Cromwell for mercy. The petition is endorsed “no” and the

vicar was left to die in his miserable prison[1212]. Sir Ingram Percy

was imprisoned in the Tower at the same time as his brother Sir

Thomas. There was no evidence of any kind that he had offended since

the pardon, but he was kept a prisoner in the Tower for about a year.

There he carved his name and motto

“Ingram Percy. Sara fidele.” [_I will be faithful._]

He was probably released in November 1538[1213], when there was a rumour

that he had fled to Scotland, but this was unfounded. His health must

have been completely broken, for he never returned to the north and died

in a few months. His will, dated 7 June 1538, was proved at Canterbury

on 21 March 1538–9[1214].

The fate of the other prisoners is unknown. Some must have saved

themselves by turning King’s evidence, as for instance Staynhus and

Staveley. Richard Bowier did so well in this respect that although in

March Norfolk had called him “as naughty a knave as any,”[1215] in the

summer he was petitioning Cromwell for a grant of monastic lands[1216].

There were others who probably shared the fate of Robert Thompson in

prison. A case was carefully made out against William Collins, the

bailiff of Kendal, who was certainly guilty[1217]. He was examined in

the Tower on 12 April 1537[1218], but after that nothing more is heard

of him, saving that in a list of Cromwell’s memoranda, probably drawn up

in July 1537, there occurs the item, “for Collins, bailiff of

Kendal.”[1219]

It remains, in Henry’s words, “to knit up this tragedy,” and to conclude

with the fate of the two principals, Sir Robert Constable and Robert

Aske. They remained in the Tower after the trial on 16 May for more than

a month. The King made up his mind on 12 June that they should be

executed in the north[1220]; Constable, who had held Hull, was to be

hanged there in chains, and Aske was to be executed at York “where he

was in his greatest and most frantic glory.” It was decided that they

should be sent with Lord Hussey to Lincolnshire, in order that their

appearance might be a warning to the rebellious people there[1221]. On

28 June the three prisoners left the Tower under the escort of Sir

Thomas Wentworth[1222]. At Huntingdon they were delivered to Sir William

Parr, who conveyed them to Lincoln, where Hussey was handed over to the

Duke of Suffolk. Parr conveyed Constable and Aske to Hull, where they

were transferred to the custody of the Duke of Norfolk[1223].

Sir Robert Constable was kept in Hull until the next market day, in

order that his end should have all possible publicity. He was asked

whether his written confession contained all that he knew about the

insurrection. He answered that he had omitted some “naughty words and

high cracks which my lord Darcy had blown out,” because he did not wish

to repeat them while Darcy was alive. “He was in doubt whether he had

offended God in receiving the Sacrament concealing this”; but now he was

able to free his mind, “saying that they could hurt no man now my lord

Darcy was dead.”[1224]

On Friday 6 July 1537 Sir Robert Constable was brought out to the

Beverley Gate for execution. The government chaplain could not bring him

to confess that he had committed treason since the pardon, “howbeit his

open confession was right good.” The passivity with which prisoners

submitted to death in Tudor times is somewhat repugnant to modern ideas.

When a man knows that his cause has been overthrown by treachery and his

life forfeited by the most cruel injustice, we feel that he ought to

make some protest at his death, that his warfare on behalf of right and

justice, as he conceives it, ought to be carried on up to the very last

breath. Any submission appears like a compromise with evil. In Henry

VIII’s reign public opinion was very different. In the first place, as

we have seen, the officials who conducted the execution took summary

measures to prevent the prisoner from saying anything in his own

justification. In the second place an execution was a public amusement,

and the people did not want to be made uncomfortable by it. They guarded

against mental uneasiness in a very simple manner. If the prisoner

submitted to his sentence and acknowledged that he had received a fair

trial, they applauded him. There was no need to trouble about a man who

was quite satisfied with his own fate. If, on the other hand, he did by

any chance protest, they said that he must be a bad man because he died

“uncharitably”; therefore he must have deserved his fate, and again

there was no need to pity him. The prisoner had usually no power to

resist the weight of public opinion, broken as he was in body by most

rigorous imprisonment, and in spirit by his long conflict with the most

paralysing human vices, injustice, cruelty and selfishness. He was worn

out—

“Let the long contention cease,

Geese are swans and swans are geese.

Let them have it as they will,

Thou art tired, best be still.”

There is something noble in this quiet resignation,—something which

makes the protests of the modern martyr sound petty and shrill.

In the strength of this resignation died Sir Robert Constable. Norfolk

reported that his body “doth hang above the highest gate of the town, so

trimmed in chains ... that I think his bones will hang there this

hundred year.”[1225] The Beverley Gate was the scene of Hallam’s

sacrifice, when he turned his back on safety and chose to share the fate

of his comrades. It was fitting that Sir Robert should die there, he who

worthily fulfilled his motto:

“As to the ship is anchor and cable,

So to thy friend be thou, Constable.”[1226]

A very different scene of friendship was enacted at his execution.

Norfolk entered into conversation with Sir William Parr, saying that he

was as much bound to Cromwell as ever nobleman could be to another. Parr

replied that he had heard and partly knew how willing Cromwell was to

further Norfolk’s interests. The Duke exclaimed, “Sir William, no man

can report more than I know already, for I have found such assured

goodness in him to me, that I never proved the like in any friend

before; and therefore myself and all mine shall be, as long as I live,

as ready to do him pleasure as any kinsman he hath.” Parr, as was

expected of him, repeated all this to Cromwell[1227]. Such were the

professions of the man who afterwards arrested Cromwell in the Council

Chamber and “snatched off the order of St George which he wore in his

neck.”[1228]

As the plague was raging in Hull, Norfolk left the town immediately

after the execution, and conveyed Aske to York, where he was to suffer

on the next market day[1229].

Ever since he had assumed his perilous office as grand captain of the

Pilgrimage, Aske had been haunted by the nightmare of an execution for

treason, from which he had not even the protection of knighthood. His

was not that unhealthy type of mind which despises life and seeks for

death in any form. He had none of the hysterical enthusiasm which

carries some martyrs through their sufferings in a state of happy

insensibility. He saw that the death which threatened him was horrible

and shameful, but he had the supreme courage to face it, not because he

drugged himself with the thought of future bliss, but because it was

necessary for the sake of his cause.

Aske was prepared to suffer martyrdom if it must be so, but he did not

pretend to desire it. During the rebellion he was heard to say that “he

had rather die in the field than be judged like a traitor.”[1230] On his

last journey up to London he was accompanied by Robert Wall his foster

brother and constant companion. When Wall heard of Aske’s arrest, he

cast himself upon his bed, and cried, “Oh my master! Oh my master! They

will draw him and hang him and quarter him.” A few days afterwards the

faithful servant died of sorrow[1231].

After his trial Aske sent a petition to the King, and another to an

unnamed lord, probably Cromwell. He begged that his debts might be paid,

and that his lands in Hampshire might revert to the right heirs, as he

held them only for life. He solemnly declared that none of his kinsmen

took any part in the insurrection, and begged that the King would be

gracious to them, and not visit his offences upon them. He requested

that “other men’s evidences,” which had been in his charge at Gray’s Inn

and were seized with his papers, might be restored to the rightful

owners. Finally he begged that his sentence might be commuted to

perpetual imprisonment “or else let me be full dead ere I be

dismembered.”[1232] On this point the King showed mercy. Aske was

allowed to hang “until he died.”[1233]

The day appointed for Aske’s execution was Thursday 12 July, which was

market day in York[1234]. Richard Coren, the government chaplain, was

with him on the last morning, and received from him a list of the spoils

which he had taken and not restored; he begged they might be discharged

by the King. As with Constable, the chaplain tried hard to draw fresh

details of the rising out of him, and noted, with some annoyance, that

both men “thought a religion to keep secret between God and them certain

things rather than open their whole stomach; from the which opinion I

could not abduce them.” The secret which the chaplain was so anxious to

discover must have been the identity of the Pilgrims’ friends in the

south. The evidence that they had such friends has already been

discussed[1235]. When interrogated on the subject in the Tower Aske

replied, “the common report of all that travelled in the south parts was

then that if the north parts would come forwards that the countries as

they came would take their part and join with them, ... he never

received letter nor special message with any promise of help from the

South. The gentlemen of Yorkshire adjoining Lincolnshire told him that

if any power had come into Lincolnshire before the agreement at

Doncaster the commons of Lincolnshire would have taken their part. By

such reports the said Aske knew the minds of the countries and none

otherwise.”[1236] When this statement is compared with Aske’s letter to

Darcy in November 1536[1237], it is evident that he was lying to his

examiners. He probably confessed the falsehood to the chaplain, but

still refused to betray the names of his allies. He stated, out of

confession, that Darcy had told him during the Pilgrimage of his

communications with the Imperial ambassador in 1535, which though

suspected had not been known to the government before, and he also

mentioned Darcy’s intention of sending to Flanders, which had been

discovered during the trial.

Two things troubled Aske because they had “somewhat aggrieved” him. One

was a speech of Cromwell’s, who “spake a sore word and affirmed it with

a stomach,” that all the northern men were but traitors. The other was

the fact that Cromwell had several times promised him a pardon, and the

King had given him a token of pardon for confessing the truth, yet he

was now to die. He said that he had kept these matters secret, and of

course the chaplain, in his report to Cromwell, promised never to repeat

them. Another secret which Aske had learnt was that Cromwell “did not

bear so great a favour to my lord of Norfolk as he thought he

did.”[1238] These blunt statements of facts that no one in diplomatic

circles ever mentioned caused a slight flutter among those concerned.

Norfolk and Cromwell were obliged to exchange more assurances of

perpetual amity[1239] and the English ambassador in Brussels wrote on 22

January 1539–40 that Chapuys “professeth with great oaths the King’s

good service and true intent in the place he was in, wherein he showed

me of the accusation that Aske had made against him, and of his

innocence therein.”[1240]

After his confession Aske was brought out of the prison and openly

confessed he had offended God, the King, and the world. “God he had

offended in breaking of his commandments, many ways; the King’s Majesty,

he said, he had greatly offended in breaking his laws whereunto every

true subject is bounden by the commandment of God, as he did openly

affirm, and the world he had offended, for so much as he was the

occasion that many one had lost their lives, lands and goods. After this

he declared openly that the King’s Highness was so gracious lord unto

all his subjects in these parts that no man should be troubled for any

offence comprised within the compass of his gracious pardon.” He was

then laid upon a hurdle and drawn through the main streets of York,

“desiring the people ever, as he passed by, to pray for him.”

On reaching the Clifford Tower, Aske was made to repeat his confession,

and then taken into the Tower to await the coming of the Duke[1241]. All

the principal gentlemen of the West Marches had been summoned to attend

the execution, and others of Yorkshire including Aske’s brother John,

who afterwards had a severe illness[1242].

When Norfolk arrived he pronounced an exhortation[1243]. Aske was

brought out upon the scaffold on the top of the tower, and there

repeated his confession, “asking divers times the King’s Highness’

forgiveness, my Lord Chancellor, my Lord of Norfolk, my Lord Privy Seal,

my Lord of Sussex and all the world, and thus, after certain orisons,

commended his soul to God.”[1244] So died Robert Aske, begging the

forgiveness of the men who had done him to death. “And all the trumpets

sounded for him on the other side.”

NOTE TO CHAPTER XX

Note A. There are three long papers (L. and P. XII (1), 847, 848, 849)

filled with notes on the evidence against Darcy and Aske. We have

taken these to be notes for the prosecution, showing the material for

the various charges brought against the prisoners. It has been

suggested that our view is mistaken, and that these are really notes

for the interrogation of the prisoners, but this seems improbable for

the following reasons:—

(1) Against some of the items a note is made that a question is to be

asked about that particular point, but if they were all intended for

questions, there would be no reason to mark a few in this way. So far

as the notes were used as interrogatories, it was chiefly in the

matter of the dates of various letters mentioned in them, such dates

being added in the margin.

(2) Against some of the items are written such comments as “this shows

him a traitor,” “thereby he committed a new treason.” There could be

no reason for such notes on a mere list of questions.

For these reasons therefore we take the notes to be the general

outline of the case for the crown against Darcy and Aske.