Close by the rippling streams' translucent marge,
Ranunculus of gold,
Bright to the sun in constellation large,
Thy glowing stars unfold.
'Mid all the wealth Spring scatters without stint,
By meadow, bank or stream,
Gay daffodil, or king-cup's myriad glint,
Spread like a golden dream;--
She brings no rival whose attractions may
With thee in all compare,
Brave thy full beauty in its strong array,
And matchless clusters dare.
No, nor sweet Summer when adown the land
Her flower-sprent steps incline,
Bearing the sceptred iris in her hand,--
The glory still is thine.
Continuing our pilgrimage, about a mile's distance further brings us
to a bridge spanning another small stream, also flowing down to meet
the Coly below at a place appropriately named Bournehayne, and
immediately at the entrance of the little village of Southleigh.
Passing under the shadow of some fine old yews, our steps lead up a
little acclivity to the left, into the churchyard. There we halt for a
minute to scan the Willoughby tomb, with its grand escutcheon and
uncouth caligraphy, and then look inside the little sanctuary, where,
owing to the necessity of almost entire rebuilding, only one monument
of importance remains, preserved in the chancel, to be further
referred to in the course of our little story. On the porch threshold
the eye is arrested momentarily by an almost obliterated
seventeenth-century flat stone, bearing the still-traceable
yeoman-gentleman name of Starre of Beer, and the fragment of another
leaning against a grave near, of contemporary date, inscribed with the
patronymic of Clode--a name still existent in the parish,--and whose
earthly calling is described as '_goldsmith_,' a strange vocation to
find chronicled here in this rural vale, and the memorial probably of
one who practised the craft in busier scenes elsewhere, and returned
to his native parish, when he finally laid down burnisher and graver,
to find his last resting-place.
Down a small meadow below the church, to the rill we crossed on
entering the hamlet, and our path inclines along its banks up the
valley through which it flows, and a right pleasant vale it is,
flanked on the left by extensive plantations of almost every species
of useful conifer, which stretch down, exhibiting great luxuriance of
growth, their different habits finely contrasting, and adding the
great charm of variety; while the opposite ascent is also
picturesquely wooded with ordinary foliage. So we leisurely continue
a full mile or more, when the valley somewhat expands. Here some fine
trees are scattered park-like in appearance around, with a small
modern mansion in their midst, and this brings us to our present
destination.
Who would imagine, viewing the peace and retirement of this delightful
rural solitude, so far removed from the ken and the movements of busy,
anxious, restless, ambitious man, and where only the voice of the
thrush, the flicker of the butterfly, the hum of the bee, the rustle
of the coney, the song of the lark, the bleating of the flock, or the
low of the kine, is seen or heard, that a story of wondrous historic
interest and significance "take hys begynnyng" from this spot? Yet an
apt symbol of how small and comparatively unknown beginnings, at times
end in being engrafted into the largest results, lies close beside us.
Who shall predict the ultimate destiny of the humble ripple of water
that sparkles along at our feet? Down through this valley it hastens
to the Coly, then on to join the larger Axe, thence to mingle with the
salt tide and be merged in the blue expanse of the Channel, and
finally be found adding its tiny tribute to the grandeur of the great
Atlantic.
As of the stream, so of the story that has origin here on its banks,
and from him who was one of the earliest settlers thereon, back in the
twilight of the days of the early Plantagenets, when a country
gentleman with no recorded pretension to influence or fame, beyond the
inalienable witness of Norman descent, betrayed by his name, to this
place found his way and fixed his abode. After sundry generations the
descendants of his race, although still holding their original home
here, travelled far afield, away from the quietude and peace of these
sylvan scenes, lured into the dangerous path of ambition, and became
prominent actors in the great, stirring, troublous drama of mediaeval
English history, as active and devoted partizans in the contending
factions, fighting to the death amid the strife of its kings, and
shedding their blood unstintedly in the conflict. Then followed the
great but dangerous honour of kinship with royalty and its fatal
glamour, culminating at last in their aspiration to the possession of
the crown itself, with the result, finally, of laying one of their
last and most guileless representatives, headless on the steps of the
throne to which they laid claim. A relation of real incidents that
needs no garnishing of romance to enhance its extraordinary interest.
Wiscombe,--Wescombe, probably originally West-combe, is the name given
to these historic precincts. The very earliest mention of its
ownership assigns it as among the possessions of the Abbey of St.
Michael de Monte, _in periculo maris_, in Normandy, and was at the
beginning of the thirteenth century held of its Abbot by Roger de
Daldich, of the family of Daldich of East-Budleigh. After awhile came
a change of ownership, and then we get the first mention of the name
of the family, the outline of whose succeeding generations we propose
to attempt, albeit imperfectly, to chronicle. A story, nevertheless,
of surpassing interest, even among the crowd of great traditions that
form the historic heritage of the famed county of Devon.
This was, according to Pole, its grant, or sale, with the reservation
of twenty shillings yearly rent, "about ye middest of the raigne of
kinge Henry III.," by the aforesaid Abbot and Roger de Daldich to
Nicholas de Bonville, evidently a gentleman of that era, and whose
name--_de bonne ville_--'of the fair or good village'--unmistakably
pointed to the original birthplace of his family, as being found in
the land immediately beyond the southern sea, from which his ancestor
doubtless also migrated in the train of the Conqueror.
All we know of the life of this Nicholas de Bonville, presumably the
first of his name as possessor of Wiscombe, is that he married a lady
named Amicia, and it was probably he, who in accordance with the
religious custom of the age, was the donor of a rent-charge at
'Tuddesheye,' now Studhayes, in Kilmington, to the Abbey of Newenham,
in the adjoining valley of the Axe, and in its Conventual church was
buried, as described by Mr. Davidson, "lastly against the north wall
of the choir, lay Sir Nicholas Bonville, a benefactor to the abbey who
died in 1266."[11] He left a son named William.
[11] _History of Newenham Abbey._
But according to another account of the early generations of Bonville,
the first recorded was Nicholas Bonville who was living in 1199. To
him his son William Bonville (not Nicholas), who married Amicia, did
homage for lands in Somerset, 6 Feb., 1265, and was succeeded by his
son William, who married Joan, a widow.[12]
[12] Vivian's _Visitations of Devon_.
William Bonville wedded a lady named Joan,--in a list of the Guild
Merchants of the antient borough of Totnes, dated 1260, and still
preserved, the third name that occurs is _Will's de Boneuille_, but
whether to be identified with an owner of Wiscombe of that name, may
not be determined, but the era accords. Of him we learn nothing
further beyond the date of his death 2 Edward I., 1273; and that he
was succeeded by his son Nicholas.
Nicholas de Bonville was styled also "of Shute," by right of his wife
Elizabeth de Pyne, of whom and her dower a few words.
The first recorded owners of Shute, and from whom it received its
name, were Sir Lucas and Sir Robert de Schete, who held it early in
the reign of Henry III. From them it passed to Sir Robert and Sir
Thomas de Pyne, of the "antient progeny" of Pyne in east Devon. Sir
Thomas who was Sheriff of Devon 56 Henry III., and successively 6, 9,
and 10 Edward I., at his death left two daughters coheiresses. One of
these distaffs, Matilda (otherwise Hawise), wedded Nicholas de
Bonville of Wiscombe, to whom she brought Shute as her portion. "In
this place (Shute) the famylye of Bonvill," says Pole, "made their
principall dwellinge, which had (longe before this Nicholas had the
mansion howse, and mannor of Shute) divers lands within Shute, namely
Sir Nicholas Bonvill (his grandfather) had Leggeshayes, and other
lands their, his dwellinge beinge at yt tyme at Wiscombe." The policy
of this marriage is therefore apparent. Himself and wife appear to
have both died the same year, 23 Edward I., 1295. They left a son and
heir named Nicholas, and another son John, who married Joan, daughter
of Waryn Hampton of Musbury, and she married secondly John Sachville,
and thirdly John Faringdon of Faringdon.
Sir Nicholas Bonville of Shute and Wiscombe, married Johanna, daughter
of Sir Henry Champernon of Clyst-Champernon (who died in 1320), by his
wife Johanna daughter of Henry Bodrugan. He was two years old only at
his father's death, but the date of his own decease does not appear.
There were four children, of whom Sir William was the eldest son and
successor.
Alexander, the second son, married Hawise, daughter of Henry de la
Forde in Musbury, and had a son Nicholas, styled "of Forde," whose
daughter Edith, married Richard Okebeare, through whose descendant,
Pole, afterward of Shute, was the representative, before he purchased
the Bonville's forfeited inheritance, and through whom they quarter
the arms of de la Forde; _Sable, a poppy with roots and fruit or_, and
Bonville.
Isabel, who married Sir Roger de Nonant of Broad-Clyst, and last of
that name; they left two daughters, Alice who married John Beauchamp
of Ryme, and Eleanor. The beautiful monument with effigy in
Broad-Clyst church is supposed to represent this knight, who reclines
in a recess on the south side of the chancel, and is clad in plate
armour with bascinet, mail-gorget, surcoat, and ornamented baudrick.
The feet rest on a lion, the head on a tilting helmet, and angels are
at the shoulders. A richly foliated canopy of screen-like character
fronts the figure on the side toward the church.
Anne, the second daughter became a nun at Wherwell.
Sir William Bonville, of Shute, "a very sweet and noble seat, adorned
in those days (as it still is) with a fair park and large demesnes,"
the first prominent representative of this family, and who added
greatly to its social status, was a wealthy and munificent man. He
married first Margaret, daughter and coheiress of Sir William
d'Aumarle of Woodbury, Devon, who died 15 Nov., 1361, by his wife
Agnes de Meriet, daughter of George de Meriet, of Merriot, Somerset.
By her he had four sons, and two daughters. She died 13 May, 1399.
Early in the succeeding century Sir William married secondly Alice
(whose surname has not been recovered), widow of Sir John Rodney, who
died 19 Dec, 1400. Sir William Bonville was her _fifth_ spouse, for
she had wedded three husbands previous to Sir John Rodney. Firstly,
John Fitz-Roger, lord of the manor of Chewton-Mendip, Somerset; by
whom she had a daughter, Elizabeth, who married John Bonville, her
last husband's eldest son by his first wife; secondly, she married Sir
Edmond de Clyvedon, of Clyvedon, Somerset, who died 13 Jany., 1375-6;
and thirdly, as his second wife, Sir Ralph Carminow of Menheniot,
Cornwall, who deceased 9 Oct., 1386. Sir Ralph who is said to have
been "by a brase of Greyhounds pulled over a Cliff and died," was
buried in Menheniot church, where there is a small brass,--probably
the earliest remaining in Cornwall--to his memory, thus inscribed,--
=Orate pro anima domini Radulphi Carmynow militis, cuius anime
propicietur deus Amen.=
Lady Alice Bonville survived all her husbands nearly twenty years, and
died 27 March, 1426.
A glance at the numerous ventures of this much-married lady will give
the uninitiated in the study of genealogy some idea of the
difficulties which beset it, in sifting, tracing, and separating the
tangle of relationship that wove together the leading families of the
west during the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries. It was
the custom to marry very early in life, often at fifteen or sixteen,
and that short widowhoods and remarriage almost invariably followed
decease on either side, and not uncommonly resulting further also, in
the children of the previous marriages matching together, a "matter of
mere attorneyship," probably in many cases entered into to consolidate
the family estates.
Beside his "mansion howse" at Shute, which was his principal
residence, Sir William, as was usual, had a town house or hotel, in
the parish of the Holy Trinity, Exeter. On 17 April, 1404, Bishop
Stafford licensed John Govys rector of Holy Trinity, as the parish
church was being rebuilt at the time, "_ut in aula infra mansum domini
Willelmi Bonevyle, militis, infra parochiam dicte ecclesie Sancte
Trinitatis situatum, divina possis celebrare, ac per presbiteros
ydoneos facere celebrari, necnon parochianis tuis quibuscumque
Sacramenta et Sacramentalia conferre et ministrare valeas_."
Of Sir William's sons, Richard the eldest died without issue before
1397. John the second son became his father's heir and successor.
Thomas Bonville, third son, married Cicely, daughter of Sir John
Stretche of Sampford-Arundell, Somerset, who died 6 Aug., 1390, by his
wife Katharine daughter of Sir John Beaumont, of Sherwill, North
Devon. They had two sons, William who died 28 Aug., 1412, and John in
1426. Both were styled "of Merriot, Somerset," property that descended
to them through their great-grandmother, and died without issue. He,
Thomas, died about 1401, and his widow soon after married Sir William
Cheney of Broke, Wilts, and died 18 Oct., 1430.[13]
[13] See page 5.
William, the fourth son, died without issue; we hear nothing of him
beyond his being a witness to his stepmother's will.
Katharine, the eldest daughter, married first Sir John Cobham, of
Blackborough, Devon, by whom she had a daughter Elizabeth, married to
Walter Charleton. Secondly she married John Wyke of Nynehead-Florey,
Somerset, and thirdly Humphry Stafford of Grafton, Worcestershire. She
died 1 Aug., 1416.
Elizabeth, second daughter, married about 1390, Sir Thomas Carew of
Ottery-Mohun, who died 25 Jan., 1431. She died 8 Feb., 1450-1.
Sir William who was Sheriff of Devon 13 Richard II., 1400, died on 14
Feb., 1407-8, and was buried before the great Cross in the choir of
Newenham Abbey Church. Beside him was afterward laid Alice his second
wife. This was during the abbacy of Leonard Houndalre, who presided
over the Community 1402-13.
He bequeaths by his will,--a very long document written in
French,--and made
"on the Saturday next before the feast of the Assumption of our
Lady, 1404, my body to be buried before the High Cross of the
church of Newenham; to Alice my consort my mansion at Exeter for
her life, all my books, vestments with other apparel belonging to
my chapel, all kinds of necessaries belonging to my hall,
chambers, pantry, buttery, kitchen and fish-pond, within my manor
of Shute, and all other chattels on my manors of Wescombe, &c.,
&c., elsewhere, 100 marks in money, and the half of my silver
vessels, &c.; 100 marks, to assist in making and repairing the
bridges and roads that are weak and fallen within my lordships of
Devon and Somerset; to alienate by mortmain 50 marks of land and
of rent per year for a _Maison Dieu_ in Combestreet at Exeter,
for 12 poor men and women to be lodged there always, also 300
marks to the said Maison Dieu in honour of God, and to sustain
the said house, and the aforesaid poor men and women, all my
rents in Exeter, except my mansion;--to Dame Anne Bonville, nun
of Wherwell, 10 marks, a _hanapp_ (drinking cup) with silver
cover, and my best _hoppelond_ (great coat) with the fur. To
William my son 200 marks to assist him in getting married; to
Thomas son of John Bonville L20 in money; to John son of Thomas
Bonville to assist him in getting married 100 marks. To my
daughter Dame Katharine Cobham L20; to my daughter Dame Elizabeth
Carew, L20. I devise that all my debts be duly and fully paid,
and if any offences or extortions by me have been committed
against any persons I will that they be restored to them,
according to the greatness of the offence; 24 torches of wax, and
24 poor men be clothed the day of the interment of my body, and
to other poor people coming on the day of my burial L10, that
each who comes may have one penny; and that my mansion and my
retinue be kept just as it is for one quarter of a year after my
death. Appoints Alice my consort, and six clerks executors;
Monsieur Thomas Brooke and John Strecch, surveyors; nothing to be
done without the counsel and assent of the said surveyors."
There is also included a very large number of religious bequests to
pray for the good estate of his soul, at various places, and legacies
in money and kind, to the poor on his extensive estates.
John Bonville, son and heir of Sir William and Margaret d'Aumarle,
married Elizabeth, only child and heiress of John Fitz-Roger, daughter
of the first husband of his father's second wife. She was
heiress-general to the Fitz-Rogers and brought the manor of
Chewton-Mendip, near Wells, Somerset, and much other property into the
family. In the south aisle of the chancel of Chewton-Mendip church, on
a high-tomb are the recumbent effigies of a knight and lady,--the
knight in chain and plate armour, with bascinet, mail-gorget, baudrick
and spurs. On his surcoat are embroidered _three lions rampant_, the
arms of Fitz-Roger. The lady is in long robe, wimple and cover-chief.
The armour and costume are assignable to this era. John Bonville had
two sons, William eldest and heir, Thomas, and one daughter Isabel.
Thomas the second son, who was Sheriff of Cornwall, married first
Johanna eldest daughter of Hugh de St. John, eldest son of Thomas de
Poynings, Lord St. John of Basing, by his wife Elizabeth daughter of
Martyn Ferrers of Beer-Ferrers. By her he had one son John. Secondly,
he married Leva, daughter and heir of John Gorges of Tamerton-Foliot,
Devon, and widow of John Wibbery. She died 16 Dec, 1461. Thomas died
11 Feb., 1467.
John Bonville son of Thomas, married first Johanna Wibbery daughter of
his father's second wife, by her first husband John Wibbery. By her
he had two daughters, Anne married to Philip Coplestone, and Joanne
married to John Elliot of Coteland. Secondly, he married Katharine, by
whom he had two daughters, Florence who married first Sir Humphry
Fulford, K.B., and secondly, Thomas Hext; and Elizabeth who married
Thomas West, Lord Delawarr. John Bonville died 24 Aug., 1494.
Isabel, only daughter of John Bonville, son and heir of William
Bonville, married Sir Richard Champernowne of Modbury, son of Sir
Richard Champernowne, who died 26 Feb., 1418-19, and Katharine
daughter of Sir Giles Daubeney, and who were both buried at Dodbrooke,
near Kingsbridge.
John Bonville, her father, died in the lifetime of his father, 21
Oct., 1396, and Elizabeth Fitz-Roger, his widow, married secondly Sir
Richard Stuckley of Trent, Somerset.
Leland thus speaks of the "maner places" of the Bonvilles, Wiscombe,
and Shute:--
"on the west part, over an hille byyond Seton is Wiscombe, a fair
maner place, sumtyme the Lord Bonvilles; now longging to the
Marquise of Dorsete. The parkes and maner places of Wischum and
Shoute abowte Axminster in Devonshire were the Lord Bonevilles,
and after a knightes of that name or ever they came to the
Marquis of Dorsetes hand."
In Sir William Bonville, the eldest son of John Bonville and Elizabeth
Fitz-Roger, we reach the most celebrated individual of his race, and
practically the last male in the direct line, as his son and grandson
died in his lifetime. His father having died in 1396, when he was
quite a child, and his mother being married again to Richard Stuckley,
it is probable the boy was in the custody of his grandfather at Shute
up to his death in 1407, and subsequently in the guardianship of his
step-grandmother the Lady Alice until his coming of age, and taking
possession of his large property in 1414, which year his mother died,
but his step-grandmother lived twelve years afterward, dying in 1426.
The particulars as to the birth and baptism of this wealthy and
unfortunate man, as they were deposed to by the witnesses appearing
before the escheator at the enquiry held to make proofs as to his
coming of age, are very homely and interesting.[14] This was taken at
Honiton on "Tuesday, All Hallow's Eve, in the first year of the reign
of King Henry the Fifth after the Conquest, before Henry Foleford, the
Lord the King's Escheator in the county of Devon." Numerous witnesses
were examined, and John Cokesdene and two others deposed,--
"that William the son of John, is of the age of 21 years and
upwards, having been born at Shute, on the last day of August in
the 16th year of the reign of the Lord Richard, late King of
England, the Second after the Conquest (1393), and baptized in
the parish church of the same vill on the same day about the hour
of vespers. And this they well know to be true, as they the said
jurors were, on the said last day of August, together elected at
Honiton, on a certain 'Love Day' to make peace between two of
their neighbours, and on that very day there came there a certain
Lady Katharine, widow of Sir John Cobham, knight, and then wife
of John Wyke of Nynhyde, an aunt of the said William the son of
John, proposing to drive to Shute, thinking that she should be
Godmother to the said infant, and met there a certain Edward
Dygher, servant to the said Sir William Bonevile, who was reputed
to be half-witted in consequence of his being loquacious and
jocular, and who asked her whither she was going. Who answering
quickly said: 'Fool, to Shute to see my nephew made a Christian,'
to which the said Edward replied, with a grin, in his mother
tongue, 'Kate, Kate, ther to by myn pate comystow to late,'
meaning thereby that the baptism of the child was already over.
Whereupon she mounted upon her horse in a passion, and rode home
in deep anger, vowing that she would not see her sister, to wit
the said child's mother, for the next six months, albeit she
should be _in extremis_ and die."
[14] From _The Porlock Monuments_, by the late Mrs. Halliday, a
very able and comprehensive monograph of Harington, with much
collaterally of Bonville.
Thus much for the Lady Katharine's appearance, her disappointment and
displeasure at not being able to be present at the child's baptism,
although she had adjournied so far for that purpose, and her immediate
return. Then a certain John Prentys and two others testify that
"all the matters as to the said Lady Katharine are true, inasmuch
as the whole took place in the said John Prentys' house, where
they themselves were present at the time, and saw and heard all."
Then comes an interesting testimony shewing the lord of Shute still
kept full interest in the older home of the family at Wiscombe, and at
the date of his grandson's birth was engaged near there in a business
transaction with squire Walrond of Bovey, living thereby. Richard
Lutrell and John Prustes relate,--
"on that day Sir William Bonevile was at his manor of Southleigh
busy in setting up certain boundary marks between a parcel of his
own land called Borcombe to the same manor belonging, and the
land of one William Walrond, on which occasion the aforesaid
Richard and John were present at the special request of the said
Sir William Bonevile. And then and there came Andrew Ryden, a
servant of the same Sir William, and told his master that his son
John had a son born to him, upon hearing which the said Sir
William rejoicing exceedingly lifted up his hands, and thanked
God, and immediately mounting upon his horse rode home."
Following this is the evidence of those who witnessed the ceremony of
the christening in the little church on that summer evening, William
Hodesfelde, and Richard Damarle, probably a relative of the child's
grandmother. They also speak of the grandfather's delight and the
present he made his grandson thereon, and say,
"they were present in the said church on that day at the time of
the solemnization of the baptism of the said William the son of
John, to hear vespers, and as soon as the ceremony was over there
came one Walter Walsche, the said William Bonevile's bailiff of
his manor of Stapyldon in the county of Somerset, and told his
master that he had well and finally completed the autumn
gathering, both of his said manor of Stapyldon and his manor of
Sokke, and had brought with him 400 lambs of that year's produce
of the manor of Sokke aforesaid, of which said lambs the said
William Bonevile immediately gave 200 to the said infant then and
there baptized."
Finally we get the information as to who were the child's sponsors and
of the high ecclesiastic who was one of them, and doubtless came
across specially from Newenham Abbey to perform the ceremony, making
his distinguished godson a commensurate present. Thomas Bowyer and
Ralph Northampton remember
"that they were personally present in the said church, and saw
there three long torches burning, and two silver basins, with two
silver ewers full of water, John Legge then Abbot of Newenham and
Sir William Bonevile being the godfathers and Agnes Bygode the
godmother of the same child, upon whom the said Abbot there
bestowed a silver gilt cup of the value, as it was said, of 100
shillings, with 40 shillings in money told, contained in the
same, which as it appeared to them was the most beautiful they
had ever beheld in a like case."
Poor child! The lambs bleating outside, and the glittering gift
cup,--"the most beautiful they had ever beheld,"--and filled with
silver pieces! The costly christening vessels and flaming torches, the
abbot in his robes, the knights and ladies in their splendid apparel,
the clustering parishioners gathered round, curiously and respectfully
to witness the baptism of the heir, and the solemn evening twilight
softly stealing through the casements of the little sanctuary. What a
suggestive picture of country wealth and peace thus surrounding the
first hours of the child, and what a contrast to the scene that was
destined to environ that child's last hours, of whose bitterness, what
seer, had he been then present, would have been bold enough to
predicate? When crushed by misfortune, his son and grandson having
fallen by the sword before his eyes a few weeks previously, and
although bowed by age, yet still attracted by the glamour of the
deadly conflict,--far away from these happy precincts, with a captive
king in his keeping as a ransom, but powerless to save him,--he stood
an unfriended prisoner alone in the hands of a relentless enemy,
surrounded by the ghastly wrecks of a battlefield, and then hastily
perished amid the ghastlier paraphernalia of the scaffold, the axe and
block, the executioner in his mask and the jeering soldiery. With what
boundless mercy are the ultimate issues of these lives of ours hidden
from us!
Being in possession of his large property, it was not likely that a
young man of his distinguished station, in those stirring times should
long remain "with idle hands at home." Accordingly we find him three
years afterward, in 1418, employed in the military service of his
country, for "being then a knight" he proceeded to France in the
retinue of Thomas, Duke of Clarence, brother to Henry V., in that
king's expedition to Normandy. In the first year of Henry VI., 1422,
he served the office of Sheriff of Devon.
In 1428 we get an interesting incident recorded, of amenities passing
between Sir William and his neighbour the Lady Joan Brooke, widow of
Sir Thomas Brooke, of Weycroft, near Axminster, and Holditch Court,
Thorncombe, "on the 14th April of that year Nicholas Wysbeche, Abbot
of Newenham," says Mr. Davidson,
"was appointed with five of his neighbours a mediator in a
dispute between Sir William Bonville of Shute, and Joan widow of
Sir Thomas Brooke, arising from the obstruction of several public
roads and paths in the formation and enclosure of the park at
Weycroft by the lady and her son. The transcript of an instrument
has been preserved which recites the circumstances of the case at
great length, and concludes with an award, which as the abbot
was nominated by the lady Brooke, does credit to his justice as
an umpire, as well as to his hospitality; for after deciding on
every point in favour of Sir William Bonville, and directing all
the ways in question to be thrown open to the public, that the
knight and the lady should ride amicably together to Newenham
Abbey on a day appointed, where they should exchange a kiss in
token of peace and friendship and dine together at the abbot's
table. The deed is dated at Axminster 13 August, 1428."
[Illustration: EFFIGY OF JOHN TALBOT, EARL OF SHREWSBURY, K. G.
WHITCHURCH, SHROPSHIRE--A.D. 1453.]
The brass effigies of Sir Thomas and his lady are in Thorncombe
church, still very perfect.
Amicably and pleasantly settled, and justly too withal by the good
Abbot Wysbeche, and with proper regard to the rights of way exercised
by the public at large, which seem to have been duly cared for and
protected by the lord of Shute.
Nearly fourteen years now elapse before we hear further of him, and
then in 1442, he appears to have held a maritime command, and "sailed
from Plymouth to Bordeaux with twenty-five ships and four thousand
men," and the year following was employed on land service, being
"retained by indenture to serve the king a whole year with twenty men
at arms, and six hundred archers, and was made Seneschal of
Acquitaine."
In 1449, he was commissioned "to serve the king upon the sea, for the
cleansing of robbers and pirates," and the same year he held Taunton
Castle, but was compelled to surrender it to the Duke of York. In 1450
a letter was sent to him amongst others, by the king requesting help
for the preservation of Lower Normandy from the French.
Doubtless in consideration of these military and other services,
actively and faithfully rendered to Henry VI., he was by that king
raised to the honour of the peerage, by writ of summons dated 23
September, 1449,--26 Henry VI.,--to Parliament by the title of BARON
BONVILLE OF CHEWTON (from Chewton-Mendip in Somerset), where he
inherited a large property, derived from his mother as heiress of the
Fitz-Rogers. He was also created a KNIGHT OF THE GARTER, being the one
hundred and eighteenth in the succession of that noble Order.
In 1453 he was ordered to France with a force sent for the relief of
Guienne. While there it is probable he was a participator in the
engagement wherein the gallant Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, lost his
life. The same year "in consideration of his further services he was
constituted Governor of the Castle of Exeter, and the year following,
1454, made Lieutenant of Acquitaine."
From this partial relation of his public services, our thoughts wander
for a time, to the domestic surroundings of his home life.
Lord Bonville married first a lady named Margaret, but who she was the
labours of investigators have as yet failed to discover. By her he had
one son, William, and two daughters,--Philippa, who married William
Grenville, brother to Sir John, and second son of Sir Theobald
Grenville, by Margaret daughter of Sir Hugh Courtenay of Haccombe, by
his third wife Matilda daughter of Sir John Beaumont, and was thus
grandson to Earl Hugh and Margaret Bohun of Colcombe,--and Margaret,
second daughter, who married Sir William Courtenay of Powderham,
Sheriff of Devon in 1483, and who died in 1485.
Lord Bonville wedded secondly, Elizabeth, daughter of Edward
Courtenay, third Earl of Devon, known as "the blind Earl," who died in
1419, and was presumably buried at Ford Abbey; by his wife Matilda,
daughter of Thomas Lord Camoys. She was then the widow of Sir John
Harington, fourth Baron Harington of Aldingham in the County of
Lancaster, and who died 11 Feb., 1417-18. She died 28 October, 1471,
thus surviving her second husband ten years, and her first husband
fifty-three years!--and was probably buried with her first husband in
Porlock church, where they founded a perpetual Chantry, and where
their splendid tomb still exists, with effigies recumbent; moved
probably from its antient position, and now much shorn by time and ill
usage of its original glory, but still displaying ample evidence of
the taste and skill of the mediaeval craftsman. By his second marriage
Lord Bonville left no issue.
The figures on the monument at Porlock are sculptured in alabaster,
and Lady Harington-Bonville wears cote-hardie and gown, with mantle
over, fastened across the breast by cordon and tassels. Around the
hips is a rich cincture, and a double chain with dependant jewel
encircles the neck. The head-dress is horned, the hair secured in a
reticulated caul splendidly embroidered, and with jewelled ornaments
filling the interstices. Just over the brow is a band-coronet, studded
with pearls and crested by fleurs-de-lys, and her fingers are
ornamented with rings. Angels support the cushions on which her head
rests, and an animal, probably intended for a boar, as allusive to her
family, is at her feet. Lord Harington is in plate armour, orle around
his bascinet, plate gorget, large epaulieres with deeply scolloped
terminations, diagonally placed sword-belt with sword, rich baudrick
across the hips with anelace, small tuilles, gauntlets, and about his
neck a chain of ornamented link-work, with the usual trefoil clasp and
small pendant. The head reclines on a helmet with crest of _a lion's
head couped at the shoulders_, and angels were originally on each side
supporting it. The feet rest on a lion. The armour is of an
interesting character, and of later date than that worn at the death
of the knight, being referable to what was in use about the middle of
the fifteenth century, accounted for by the appearance of his wife by
his side, who survived him more than half a century. There is a fine
canopy over the effigies.
[Illustration: EFFIGIES OF ELIZABETH COURTENAY, LADY BONVILLE,
AND HER FIRST HUSBAND, JOHN, FOURTH BARON HARINGTON OF ALDINGHAM,
PORLOCK CHURCH, SOMERSET.--A.D. 1417-71.]
We broke off our little personal history in the year 1454, when
presumably Lord Bonville had returned from Aquitaine, of which
province he had been made Lieutenant. The next glimpse we get of him
is in the year following, and the incident, that brings him before us,
is quite in keeping with the belligerent spirit of the times, and
which seems to have invaded both public and private life at this
turbulent and lawless era. The old historian, Westcote, gives a
succinct outline of this remarkable quarrel,
"In this parish (Colyton) are yet remaining the two antient seats
of two illustrious families, Colcombe of Courtenay, Earl of
Devonshire, and Shute alias Sheet, of the Lord Bonvile; each of
them having their parks and large lati-funds (broad-acres),
but seldom any good neighbourhood, familiarity, or friendship
between them. This emulation increased at length to a quarrel,
and eagerly taken a both sides, about a couple of dogs, or
hounds, if you will, which could not by any mediation of friends,
or intercession of their equals, be qualified or appeased, until
it was valiantly tried in a single combat (which is now by a
fitter word termed a duel,) upon Clist-Heath, which manfully and
constantly performed by both parties, and after they had well
tried one the other's strength and valour, and with their sharp
swords, they at last lovingly agreed and embraced each other, and
ever after there continued great love and amity between them."
Shute was antiently part of Colyton, its church being a dependant
chapelry,--it now forms a distinct parish.
A very singular spectacle, this valiant performance, between these
noble neighbours, and ending according to the gossiping topographer in
genuine three-volume style. Dugdale says, Lord Bonville had the best
of the encounter, and Prince, after narrating the bellicose
transaction and "the great love and amity" said to have existed
between the combatants afterward, naively adds, "which I can hardly
believe for a reason, which hereafter may be observed in reference to
this Lord." Cleaveland however gives probably the truer version of its
cause, observing
"But Hollingshed and others do say, that several men on both
sides were slain in the quarrel, and that the Lord Bonvile
prevailed and went to Exeter, and had the gates opened to him.
And this is most likely to be true, for there was a great
animosity between those two great men, before this quarrel
happened, they being engaged in different parties; the Earl of
Devonshire was zealous for the house of Lancaster, and the Lord
Bonvile for the house of York, and the civil war between these
houses did then begin to break out, and no wonder the city of
Exeter opened its gates, to the Lord Bonvile, for the Duke of
York had at that time all the power in his hands, and no doubt
the city favoured those of the prevailing side. But whoever had
the better of it in this quarrel, both the Earl of Devonshire and
Lord Bonvile were great sufferers by that bloody and unnatural
war, for the Earl's three sons, successively Earls of Devon, lost
their lives for that quarrel for the house of Lancaster, and it
is said by some the Earl himself came to an untimely end by it.
And the Lord Bonvile lost both his son and grandson in the battle
of Wakefield, and the Lord himself was put to death after the
second battle of St. Alban's. The Earl's family became _extinct_
as to the first branch of that illustrious house, and the Lord
Bonvile's became _wholly extinct_."
A large and melancholy history in a few lines, and a pertinent
illustration of the effects and horrors of civil war, but this new
position of affairs requires careful scrutiny, as far as the slender
means at disposal afford.
Up to 1454, at least, Lord Bonville's allegiance must have been true
to the interests of the king, Henry VI. He had been employed, as would
be usual with men of his position and military aptitude, in the
warlike expeditions of the time abroad, and in the command of the
forces on land and sea, at home. In this respect he was evidently
esteemed an able and trusted servant, and the king had rewarded these
services by conferring on him a peerage, and investing him with the
order of the Garter, two of the highest honours at the sovereign's
disposal, and it would be presumable, in view of the foregoing, that
Lord Bonville's sympathies would naturally be on the side of Henry
VI., and the cause of the Red Rose, in the bitter conflict then just
beginning to be developed.
Although we have no direct testimony to the contrary in the earlier
stages of the warfare, as to Lord Bonville's then actually throwing in
his lot with the partizans of the White Rose, still the inferential
evidence remaining seems to point to it. The quarrel between Courtenay
and himself, although said to be over a couple of dogs,--if it really
happened as described,--had its basis probably in the absorbing social
questions that then stirred men's hearts to the deepest. A strange and
fierce development of ill-feeling, such as is related, between
neighbours and almost relatives of such distinguished station, could
scarcely arise except over some very weighty cause. Lord Bonville was
then married to the aunt of the Earl Thomas Courtenay he is said to
have fought with, and it is also fairly presumable they were close
neighbours, living within a mile of each other, the one at Shute and
the other at Colcombe. The Earl of Devon had married Margaret Beaufort
daughter of John, Earl of Somerset, and grand-daughter of John of
Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster; three of their children were buried at
Colyton, and the beautiful monument in the church is considered to be
the memorial of his wife, the Countess Margaret herself, so the Earl
and his family must have been in residence there about that time.
Beyond this encounter, presumably begotten through the combatants
holding opposite views in the contending factions, we have no direct
evidence for four or five years as to Lord Bonville's active
participation in the fortunes of the White Rose.
Before proceeding further, we had better resume our notes as to the
family relationships following in Lord Bonville's domestic circle, and
their possible influence eventually on him.
William Bonville, Lord Bonville's only son by his first wife, was
probably born about 1416-17, soon after which date his father wedded
his second wife, Elizabeth Courtenay, widow of John, fourth Lord
Harington.
He married about 1440, Elizabeth sole daughter and heir of William,
fifth and last Lord Harington of Aldingham, who died 3 March, 1458,
brother and heir to his stepmother's first husband. One son, William,
was the issue of this marriage; the mother appears to have died in the
lifetime of her father, Lord Harington, for at the _inq. post mortem_
following his death, held April, 1458, this grandson William, son of
his daughter Elizabeth, was found his next heir, and then aged 16
years. The above William Bonville, the father, fell at the battle of
Wakefield, 31 Dec., 1460, fighting on the side of the White Rose.
Between the date of his wife's father's death in March, 1458, and his
own decease in Dec., 1460, he would by courtesy bear the title of Lord
Harington, _jure uxoris_.
William Bonville, only son of the foregoing William Bonville, _jure
uxoris_ Lord Harington, and grandson of Lord Bonville, was born about
1441-2.
He made a distinguished match indeed, having married Katharine, fifth
daughter of Sir Richard Nevill, K.G., eldest son of Sir Ralph Nevill,
K.G., the first Earl of Westmoreland, who died in 1425, by his second
wife the Lady Joan Beaufort, daughter of John of Gaunt, Duke of
Lancaster, and Katharine Swynford.
Her mother was the Lady Alice Montacute, daughter and heir of Sir
Thomas de Montacute, K.G., Earl of Salisbury, Baron Montacute and
Monthermer, who died 1428,--by his wife the Lady Elizabeth
Plantagenet, daughter of Thomas, and sister of Edmund, Earl of Kent;
and in her father Sir Richard Nevill, was revived in 1442 the title of
Earl of Salisbury, and the Baronies of Montacute and Monthermer.
Thus the Lady Katharine Bonville was sister to Richard Nevill, the
"great Earl of Warwick, the king-maker," and aunt to his daughters,
the Lady Isabel who married George Plantagenet, Duke of Clarence,
brother to Edward IV., drowned in a butt of malmsey in the Tower,
whose son Edward was cruelly beheaded by Henry VII., and whose
daughter Margaret, the aged Countess of Salisbury was remorselessly
butchered by Henry VIII.; and also to the Lady Anne, married first to
Edward, Prince of Wales, son of Henry VI.,--so foully slain by Edward
IV. and Richard, Duke of Gloucester, or by their orders, immediately
after the battle of Tewkesbury,--and to whom, as that poor prince's
widow, Gloucester, afterward king Richard III., was subsequently
married.
The Lady Katharine Bonville was also sister to George Nevill, Bishop
of Exeter, between 1455-65,--and afterward Archbishop of York and Lord
Chancellor. Of this prelate the only remaining remembrance of his ten
years' supervision of the diocese appears on the shield in the east
window of Branscombe church.
William Bonville, her husband, only son of William Bonville, Lord
Harington _jure uxoris_,--and grandson of Lord William Bonville,
K.G.,--also fell with his father at the battle of Wakefield, fighting
on the side of York and the White Rose, and when he could have been
scarcely twenty years of age.
He left one infant daughter, Cecilia or Cicely Bonville, at her
father's untimely death probably under a year old.
Lady Katharine Bonville married secondly Sir William de Hastings, the
first Lord Hastings of Ashby-de-la-Zouch. He was the eldest son and
heir of Sir Leonard de Hastings, who died in 1456, by his wife Alice,
daughter of Thomas, Lord Camoys. The career of this prominent man, and
his tragic death, form one of the most remarkable episodes in English
history, is strangely, but directly interwoven with our little
narrative, and the relation of which, however well worn, could not be
passed over here.
He acted a conspicuous part in the political events of the time, was a
devoted Yorkist, to whom Edward IV. was greatly attached, and who
literally heaped appointments, honours, and possessions upon him. He
was constituted at various times, Master of the Mint (coining, during
his term of office, the first new gold piece, value eight shillings
and four pence, called the "Noble"), Steward of numerous Royal manors,
and Ranger of Royal Forests,--Constable of Leicester, Nottingham, and
several other Castles,--Captain of Calais and its dependencies,
Chamberlain of the Exchequer, Lord Chamberlain of the Household, and
Chamberlain of Wales. On 26 July, 1461,--1 Edward IV.,--he was created
by patent Baron Hastings of Ashby-de-la-Zouch, and afterward invested
with the dignity of the Garter.
Then comes a curious and special bit of family history, strongly
reflecting the habits and policy of the age, that has a most
interesting bearing on our annals. On 14 April, 1464, he entered "into
an agreement with Dame Elizabeth Grey, late wife of Sir John Grey,
knt., son and heir of Edward Grey, late Lord Ferrers, that he should
have the wardship of her son Thomas (afterward Marquis of Dorset), on
whose part it was stipulated, that he should, within five or six years
afterward, _marry the eldest daughter of Lord Hastings that might then
be living_."
A monstrous arrangement, thus to betroth young people, mere children
often, _nolens volens_, but a very common one at the period. Now it so
happened that the mother of Thomas Grey became Queen to Edward IV.,
and Lord Hastings had married the Lady Katharine Bonville, whose only
child by her first husband was Cicely. It is true that by Lord
Hastings she subsequently had another daughter, Anne, who married
George Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, but Cicely Bonville was one of the
greatest heiresses in England, which the young man's mother, the
Queen, and her husband, Edward IV., were quite aware of. Thomas Grey,
however, Lord Hastings' ward, who must have been considerably older
than Cicely, does not seem to have waited for her, but married first,
Anne daughter of Henry Holland, Duke of Exeter,--she however appears
to have died sufficiently in time for him to marry Cicely. Lord and
Lady Hastings had been legally constituted the guardians of Cicely,
together with the custody of her estates, and her coming of age was
fixed at sixteen years. Immediately after this, which would be about
1476-7, she appears to have been married to the Marquis, but at the
time the "arrangement" for her marriage was entered into by her
step-father, Lord Hastings, she could not have been more than four or
five years old.
Thus one nice little family compact was negociated, and contained the
secret of Cicely's alliance, which altogether turned out to be happy
enough. The agreement of marriage with the eldest daughter of Lord
Hastings was thus construed to include his wife's also, if that was
not really intended to be the essence of the contract in the first
instance. The step-son of the king was to be married to the
step-daughter of his friend and favourite, a rich heiress in her own
right and also to the titles of Bonville and Harington.
The ward, or guardianship, of fatherless or orphan children of noble
parentage, was a trust practically vested in the king, or crown, and
by him was usually given to some Court favourite, being eagerly sought
after as a rule, because it generally conferred the almost absolute
control both of the ward's property and future destiny, and of wedding
him or her, if desirable, to a child of the guardian nominated. Lord
Hastings, from his position and influence, appears to have acquired
and exercised this questionable position to the utmost, as will be
seen.
For this was only one of the wardships obtained by Lord Hastings,
because he had sons as well as daughters to be wedded. He further
procured the wardship of Mary, only daughter of Sir Thomas Hungerford,
who was tried and beheaded at Salisbury, 8 Edward IV., and entered
into an agreement with her mother and step-father, that Edward his son
and heir should in due time take her to wife, and in the event of
Edward's death, then George or Richard, the younger brothers. Edward
Hastings however lived to marry Mary Hungerford, sole heiress of the
elder descent, and to the baronial titles of Hungerford, Bottreaux,
Molyns, and Moels, which were afterward revived in his person by Henry
VII.
We have mentioned Lord Hastings had one daughter also, by his wife
Katharine Neville-Bonville, named Anne, and she had to be provided
for. The Marquis of Dorset had been allotted to his step-daughter
Cicely Bonville, and therefore from a clause in his will we learn that
he had yet another "ward and marriage to him granted," in the person
of George Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, and if George should die, then
the contract was to extend to his next brother Thomas. But George
lived to marry the young lady. So these family compacts were arranged
and went merrily forward. Property, honours, and influence, appear to
have been the sole objects of these unnatural arrangements; love and
natural predilection not considered at all, and nowhere, being
evidently not deemed of the least importance,--marriage being treated
in all respects as a "matter of mere attorneyship." And do not these
transactions afford a clue to the amours and intrigues that infested
the age? The vengeful results of outraged hearts, and the sure
outcome.
Shakspeare well describes this 'brokerage' of marriageable maidens, in
the fourth act of the third part of _Henry VI_.--
HASTINGS. 'Tis better using France than trusting France:
Let us be back'd with God, and with the seas,
Which he hath given for fence impregnable,
And with their helps only defend ourselves;
In them, and in ourselves, our safety lies.
CLARENCE. For this one speech, Lord Hastings well deserves
To have the heir of the Lord Hungerford.
KING EDWARD Ay, what of that? it was my will, and grant;
And, for this once, my will shall stand for law.
GLOUCESTER. And yet, methinks, your grace hath not done well,
To give the heir and daughter of Lord Scales
Unto the brother of your loving bride;
She better would have fitted me, or Clarence:
But in your bride you bury brotherhood.
CLARENCE. Or else you would not have bestow'd the heir
Of the Lord Bonville on your new wife's son,
And leave your brothers to go speed elsewhere.
KING EDWARD. Alas, poor Clarence! is it for a wife
That thou art malcontent? I will provide thee.
CLARENCE. In choosing for yourself, you show'd your judgment;
Which being shallow, you shall give me leave
To play the broker in mine own behalf;
And, to that end, I shortly mind to leave you.
In 1470 Hastings accompanied Edward IV. in his hasty flight from Lynn,
in Norfolk, to Holland, when he also so narrowly escaped capture by
the Easterlings, and the king had nothing beyond his "gown lined with
martens" to pay the captain of the ship for his voyage. He also
returned with that monarch, when he landed at Ravenspur, to reclaim
the kingdom,--the place where Henry of Bolingbroke, a century and a
half previously, had disembarked to dethrone Richard II. Although his
wife's brother was the 'king-maker,' and engaged in the opposite
interest, Hastings remained loyal to Edward IV., and at the battle of
Barnet, on April 14, which ended so disastrously for Warwick, was one
of the king's principal commanders. So also he took active part in the
decisive action at Tewkesbury on 4th of May following. Then comes the
darkest episode in this nobleman's career. The Queen Margaret and her
son, the Prince Edward, were made prisoners, and the royal youth was
ushered into Edward's presence, who, flushed with success,
ungenerously asked him "How he dared to invade his dominions," to
which question, the answer was proudly but perhaps imprudently given,
"To claim my father's crown and mine own inheritance." Stung probably
by the conscious truth and nobleness of the reply, Edward unmanfully
struck the youth on the mouth with his gauntlet, whereon the Dukes of
Clarence and Gloucester, the Lords Hastings and Dorset, taking this as
a signal for further violence, hurried the prince away from Edward's
presence, and despatched him with their swords. Pity evaporates over
any misfortunes that may overtake men guilty of such deeds as this. In
1474 he got leave from the king to 'unpark' some seven thousand acres
at Ashby-de-la-Zouch, and elsewhere, and to 'fortify' his mansions on
his different manors, specially the magnificent castle he erected at
Ashby. He was in the retinue of Edward at the inglorious peace of
Pecquigny, and got his share of the spoil, "his French Majesty at one
time making him a present of plate valued at ten thousand marks." He
is said to have refused at first to accept the pension awarded him on
this occasion by the king of France, but "after some courteous and
friendly correspondence" consented to receive it in a left-handed way,
refusing to give any receipt for it, saying, "put it (the gold) here
into my sleeve, for other acknowledgment you get none from me, for no
man shall say, that king Edward's Lord Chamberlain hath been pensioner
to the French king, nor that my acquittances be found in his Chamber
of Accounts." So these 'great' men magnanimously salved their qualms
of conscience, and satisfied the questions of their pride; and it is
further added, his pension was ever after paid without further
acquittance.
Then came his amour, or rather passion, for the beautiful Jane
Wainstead, afterward Jane Shore. It is related he was smitten by her
charms while still under her father's roof, and his attentions aroused
the suspicions of her father, who thereupon, to save his daughter, got
her suitably married to Mr. Matthew Shore, the goldsmith of Lombard
Street. Hastings not to be baffled, followed his prey after her
marriage, until on an occasion, when he attempted to pass the
boundary of honour, he got indignantly discharged and interdicted all
future communication. Thereon he is said, out of revenge, to have sent
the royal spoiler on the track, with a success but too well known.
Hastings' old affection however appears to have survived, and at
Edward's death he took her,--all sullied in reputation as she
was,--under his protection, until the day of his own death, his
acquaintanceship with her being made a chief accusation against him by
the relentless Gloucester.
Although so devoted to the king, Edward IV., he was by no means
friendly disposed toward his Queen, Elizabeth Woodville, and at king
Edward's death this dislike evidently greatly increased, which was in
great measure the Queen's fault, as she manifested considerable
antipathy toward the older nobility, being much wrapt up in the
welfare of her own family, but recently ennobled. Doubtless Hastings
and others saw this, and it had its due influence on them; but he was
perfectly loyal to the king's children. Almost immediately after
Edward's decease Hastings and Buckingham were sent for to confer with
Gloucester at Northampton, the young king being then with his uncle
and governor the Earl Rivers at Ludlow Castle, and his brother, the
Duke of York, with the Queen-mother in London. At this meeting was
urged the danger of the Queen-mother's influence, the necessity of
removing the young princes from her control, the advisability of
Gloucester's assuming the Protectorate, and the securing and, if
necessary, destroying the persons of the Rivers and Grey families as
dangerous to the common peace. All this the well-pleased and astute
Gloucester cleverly managed, and Hastings was sent on to London to
pacify the city, where he had great influence, and when the citizens
in alarm at hearing of the apprehension of Rivers and others, the
young king's attendants, and that they had been sent northwards toward
Pontefract, he deceived them with the assurance that they were simply
transported thither for conspiring against Gloucester and Buckingham,
and would be duly put on their trial; and Gloucester completed the
illusion by bringing the young king with much ceremony to London. Soon
after, Hastings "readily gave his assent" to the execution of the Earl
Rivers and others in custody at Pontefract, although still ignorant of
Gloucester's final design, and still more so of the grim fate that was
hanging over his own head, for it was also agreed on by those in the
secret, that he himself,--whose interest for the young king was well
known,--should be gained over in harmony with the project, or
dispatched out of the way, if necessary.
Although Hastings does not seem to have seen through Gloucester's
designs, his companion and friend Lord Stanley, "a man of deep
penetration," appears to have comprehended the whole situation, and
spoke his mind fully thereon to his colleagues, then assembling day by
day making preparations for the young king's coronation, of which
council Hastings was a member with others, the young king's friends,
but Hastings, it is related, still doubted Gloucester's plotting, and
also that the other council, sitting under Gloucester's presidency at
Crosby Place, were engaged in no design against the young king, and
that he would "pawn his life" if anything detrimental to the youthful
monarch were transacted there, he should be instantly informed of it
by a trusty member thereof, devoted to the king's interests; moreover
he was still prepossessed of Gloucester, and believed his council were
only desirous of humbling the Queen's party, whom he, Hastings, so
greatly disliked.
This 'trusty member' was none other than Richard Catesby, "a lawyer,
who had, through Lord Hastings' means, been placed in a position of
considerable trust, in the counties of Northampton and Leicester,
where Hastings' property lay," and this man, his friend and confidant
as he supposed he was, eventually betrayed him. Stanley's fears, it
seems, were greatly modified or allayed by Hastings' assertions, and
they quietly proceeded with their arrangements for the coronation,
while Gloucester was carefully doing all he could to prevent it, and
secretly and busily laying his dark plans for a very different issue.
Catesby, who had become the creature of Gloucester, unknown to
Hastings, was despatched by Gloucester to sound Hastings, "with all
the caution imaginable," most carefully guarding the grand secret. The
part was well played, and Hastings, not distrusting Catesby, told him
of Stanley's suspicions, and that for himself, rather than the late
king's children should be deprived of their rights, he would see ruin
and destruction overtake Gloucester and Buckingham, and that he would
employ every means in his power, even to his very life, to prevent its
succeeding.
All this intelligence Catesby carefully transmitted to Gloucester. Its
receipt appears to have greatly embarrassed him, as Gloucester greatly
desired to secure Hastings' adherence, knowing the importance his
assistance would afford. Wishing therefore to be perfectly assured of
the attitude Hastings was likely to assume, and to a considerable
extent fearing his influence if exerted for the king, Gloucester sent
Catesby to him a second time, with instructions to get as complete an
answer as possible. Catesby appears to have spoken plainly in this
second interview of Gloucester's designs, and to have received similar
answer to that given at their first parlance, and he left Hastings
with the knowledge that he had discovered Gloucester's intentions, and
also revealed to him his own treachery. Gloucester in due time was
made acquainted with the fact that in Hastings he had, under the
circumstances, now only an adversary to deal with. The Protector's
mind was soon made up, and Hastings' death resolved on; no one was to
stand between him and the throne, and live.
On June 15, 1483, Gloucester called a council at the Tower, ostensibly
to finish the preparations for the king's coronation. Rapin, from
information condensed from the various old chroniclers, thus
circumstantially describes the final scene,--
"The Protector came himself at nine o'clock in the morning with a
cheerful countenance, courteously saluting the lords, as if he
had nothing in his mind that gave him the least uneasiness. After
that he went out and desired the council to continue their
deliberations in his absence.
"About an hour after, he returned with an angry countenance,
knitting his brows, and biting his lips, and shewing all possible
signs of perturbation of mind. Remaining some time without
speaking, he broke silence with these words,--_My Lords, what
punishment do they deserve who have plotted against my life?_'
The Lords not immediately answering, Lord Hastings replied,
'_Whoever is guilty of that crime ought to be punished as a
traitor_.' The Duke answered, '_It is that sorceress my
sister-in-law, with her accomplices_.' These words astonished
many of the council who favoured the Queen, being afraid this
accusation concerned them. But the Lord Hastings was far from any
such fear. All knew he was a sworn enemy to the Queen, and
consequently there was no likelihood of his joining her in such a
design. Besides, he had lately approved of the order sent to
Pontefract to behead the lords prisoners, who were to be executed
that very day.
"After a short pause the Protector, unbuttoning his left sleeve,
shewed the Council his arm, dried and withered, saying with
extreme emotion, '_See what that sorceress, and Shore's wife have
done by their witchcrafts. They have reduced my arm as you see,
and my whole body would fain have been the same, if by God's
mercy their infamous plot had not been discovered._' These words
caused a greater surprise than the former, the whole Council
knowing the Duke's arm had long been in that condition; besides,
if the Queen had framed such a project, Jane Shore would have
been the last person she would have imparted it to, since of all
women she most hated her.
"The Lord Hastings who, since Edward's death, had kept Jane
Shore, perceiving she was involved in the accusation, could not
forbear to shew how much he doubted her being guilty by saying,
'_If they had committed such a crime they deserved to be
punished_.'
"Then the Protector raising his voice said, '_What, dost thou
answer me with 'Ifs' and 'Ands,' as if I forged this accusation?
I tell thee they have conspired my death, and thou thyself art
accessory to the crime._' As he ended these words he struck the
table twice with his fist, and immediately the room was filled
with armed men.
"As soon as they were in, the Protector turning to Lord Hastings
said to him, '_I arrest thee for High Treason.' 'Who, me, my
Lord_,' answered Hastings. '_Yes, thee traitor_,' replied the
Protector. At the same time he delivered him to the custody of
the soldiers.
"During the bustle one of the soldiers would have cleft the Lord
Stanley's skull, with a battle-axe. But he avoided part of the
blow by sinking under the table, however he was dangerously
wounded. Probably the soldier had orders to kill him as it were
by chance, under pretence that he would have defended the Lord
Hastings. It is not hard to guess why the Protector desired to be
rid of him. Having missed his aim, Stanley was arrested with the
Archbishop of York, and the Bishop of Ely, it being the
Protector's interest to put it out of their power to hurt him,
whom he knew to be zealously affected for the young king.
"As for the Lord Hastings, he would scarce give him time to make
confession to the next priest that came, swearing '_By St.
Paul,--he would not dine until his head was struck off_.'
Accordingly he was beheaded upon a log that was found on the
green before the Tower Chapel, the time fixed by the Protector
being too short to erect a scaffold."
So miserably and brutally perished the Lady Katharine Bonville's
_second_ husband, one of the chief friends and favourites of Edward
IV., through the remorseless malice aforethought of that king's
brother, the Duke of Gloucester. Lord Hastings was a prominent, it may
be said, representative character of that age of intrigue and
unscrupulous ambition. Although loyal to Edward and his sons, he was a
"sworn enemy" to Queen Elizabeth Woodville, notwithstanding his wife's
daughter, Cicely Bonville, was married to her eldest son, and he is
said to have "greatly contributed" to the execution of the prisoners
at Pontefract, Anthony, Earl Rivers, and Richard, Lord Grey, the
Queen's brothers, and near relatives of his step-daughter Cicely
Bonville's husband, the Marquis of Dorset; by a most remarkable
retribution he was awarded a similar fate to theirs, said to have
occurred on the same day, and at the same hour. His hands too are
reputed to have been imbrued with the blood of Margaret of Anjou's
unfortunate youthful son. His amour with Jane Shore was made the
handle of Gloucester's accusation, and sudden and cruel as his fate
was, it was perhaps merciful as compared with the suffering that was
reserved for her. While Hastings, her protector, lived, her position
was one of comparative safety, but at his death none dared befriend
her, and true to the hideous completeness of the part Gloucester was
acting, she was to be the next victim. Then the poor, frail, beautiful
and withal amiable creature,--Edward used to call her the 'holiest' of
his three mistresses, the other two being respectively the 'wittiest'
and the 'merriest'--one to whom a king, and 'the handsomest man in
Europe' to boot, had paid court, amid unstinted opulence and luxury,
was dragged forth and exposed to the gibes, jeers, and insults of a
vulgar mob, with studied opprobrium publicly disgraced, and finally
with contumely driven away to eke out the remainder of her days in the
most abject poverty, misery, and distress. The purist,--forgetful his
mother was a woman,--may say the degradation was deserved; but there
is no human shortcoming that gives justification for unmanliness, the
most detestable of all crimes.
By his wife Katharine, widow of William Bonville, and daughter of
Richard Nevill, Earl of Salisbury, Lord Hastings had issue four
sons:--1. Edward, eldest son and heir; he married Mary, grand-daughter
and heiress of Robert, Baron Hungerford, Bottreaux, Molyns, and Moels,
and in right of his wife was summoned to Parliament, though still a
minor, in 1483, by the title of Baron Hastings of Hungerford; he died
in 1507.--2. Sir Richard.--3. Sir William.--4. Sir George; and one
daughter, Anne, married to George Talbot, fourth Earl of Shrewsbury.
Lord Hastings made his will 27 June, 1481, bequeaths his body to be
buried in the "_Chapel of Seynt George at Wyndesore_," and "_that
there be ordeigned a tumbe convenient for me by myne executors, and
for the costs of the same I bequeath c marks_." After many religious
bequests,--"_also when George, Erle of Shrewsbury, whose warde and
marriage to be, me is granted, &c.,--hath married Anne my daughter, I
woll that if the same Erle should die, which God defend, &c., that
then Thomas brother of the said Erle take to wife, her the same Anne,
&c._,"--gives to "_Kateryn myn entirely beloved wyff_," sundry manors
and constitutes her one of his executors, and "_ordaynes John, Lord
Dynham_," a contemporary of west-country fame, as one of the
surveyors.
Katharine, Lady Hastings, made her will 22 Nov., 1503, and orders her
body "_to be buried in our Lady Chapell, within the parish church of
Ashby-de-la-Zouch_," gives numerous religious bequests, and "_where I
owe unto Cecilie, Marquesse Dorset, certain summes of money which I
borrowed of her at diverse times, I woll that the said Cecilie in full
contentation of all summes of money as I owe unto her, have my bed of
arres, tittor, tester, and counterpane, which she late borrowed of me;
and over that I woll that she have my tabulet of_ _gold that she now
hath in her hands for a pledge, and three curtains of blew sarcionet,
and three quishons of counterfeit arres with imagery of women, a long
quishon, and two short of blew velvet, also two carpets_;" and "_makes
and ordaines Cercell, Marquis Dorset, widow_," one of her executors.
She died in 1504.
Lord Hastings was buried in the Chantry erected by his widow, and
dedicated to St. Stephen, in the north arcade of the choir of St.
George's Chapel at Windsor Castle. The screen that separates it from
the aisle, is of three stories, the two upper of open work with
tracery. Above is a cornice with Tudor flower cresting, and in the
centre, an open-vizored helmet with mantling, supporting the Hastings'
crest, _from out a ducal coronet, a bull's head affrontee, couped at
the shoulders_. Below are the arms of Hastings, _a maunch sable_, and
this device with the Garter appears in a series below. The screen was
originally richly painted and gilded. There is no monument within it,
and probably there never was such. In general design the Hastings'
Chantry has much in common with Canon Oxenbridge's, on the opposite
side of the choir.
To return to Lord Bonville. We have thus traced as clearly and
succinctly as may be, this somewhat tangled genealogy of their
descents, and its bloodstained surroundings, to clear the ground, and
get a more comprehensive view of the circumstances that may have had
their influence on the last years of Lord Bonville's life, and also to
afford some reason as to when, and why, he finally transferred his
influence and allegiance from the Red to the White Rose.
Our last glimpse of him was in 1455, when he was said to have
"valiantly performed" the duel on Clyst-Heath, with Thomas Courtenay,
Earl of Devon, the real basis of which quarrel it is inferred, but not
authenticated, was his presumed sympathy then with the cause of the
White Rose, and so raised the anger of his antagonist, who was warmly
interested on the side of the Red.
Apart from this rather apochryphal incident, there does not appear to
be any direct evidence of his identification, at least actively, with
the cause of York for the next five years. There were reasons why
perhaps this might not be so. He was then married to his second wife,
a Courtenay, the member of a family strongly identified with the
fortunes of the Red Rose. She was the widow of a wealthy peer, and her
present husband's son was married to the heiress of her first
husband's house, in the person of her niece, the only daughter of his
brother; and there does not appear to be any evidence as to which way
the Haringtons leant toward the impending struggle, that may have
influenced him. Lord Bonville may from conviction have passively
inclined toward the interest of York, but no mention is made of his
being at the first battle of St. Albans (which took place the same
year as the duel on Clyst-Heath) 22 May, 1455, nor as to his being in
any way concerned with the fluctuating aspects of the strife during
the next four years, up to and including the battle of Bloreheath,
which occurred 23 Sep., 1459.
But about 1458-9 a new and very powerful factor found admission into
Lord Bonville's family, in the marriage of his grandson with
Katharine Nevill, the sister of the king-maker, Richard, Earl of
Warwick, the central point around which the hopes of the White Rose
concentrated, while her other brother George Nevill presided over the
diocese of Exeter. It is difficult to estimate the important influence
this relationship would naturally exercise on the Bonvilles,
especially if already inclined that way, and doubtless it did add
considerable weight to turn the scale promptly, and as it turned out
irremediably, on the side of York, as immediate events shew.
Taking the foregoing speculations and surmises, however, only for what
they are worth, by the middle of the year 1460, there could be no
doubt as to the side Lord Bonville had taken, whether by the "subtile
insinuations" of his grandson's wife's family or otherwise. The battle
of Northampton took place 10 July, 1460, and the unfortunate
half-demented Henry VI. being taken prisoner, we are told by Prince,
with probable correctness, the king was, "among others, committed to
the care and custody of the Lord Bonvil."
Doubtless afterward, Lord Bonville, accompanied by his son and
grandson, found distinguished places in the retinue of the king-maker,
in their triumphal march back to London, escorting the captive monarch
in the train.
Short spell of success and victory, soon to be followed by a terrible
nemesis! The scared but determined Margaret of Anjou, and her son
Edward had escaped into Scotland, and presently the dark war-clouds
were again gathering north and south for another sanguinary conflict.
Six months of preparation brought the combatants together, and on the
31 Dec., in the same year, the frightful and merciless battle of
Wakefield shattered, for the time, the hopes of York to the centre.
Among the nobles fighting on the side of Queen Margaret, was Lord
Bonville's neighbour and old antagonist, Thomas Courtenay, Earl of
Devon; and on the other, arrayed in the cause of York, were the three
generations of the Bonvilles, two of whom were destined never to come
out of that fearful conflict alive. Whether in the thick of the
battle, or in the pursuit that followed, may not be related, but both
son and grandson perished, and Prince intensifies its horror by
relating "that both were slain before his (the grandfather--Lord
Bonville's) face."
In the carnage fell also Richard, Duke of York, whose head Margaret,
in womanish revenge, then caused to be struck off and displayed over
one of the gates of York, decorated with a paper crown; while
immediately after, his second son, the Earl of Rutland, a beautiful
boy of thirteen was stabbed to the heart by the savage Clifford.
Eleven years intervened of ceaseless anxiety, and then at Tewkesbury,
Margaret's own son Edward shared a similar dreadful fate at the hands
of his captors.
In the pursuit that followed the battle of Wakefield, during the
night, the Earl of Salisbury--the Lady Katharine Bonville's
father--was captured, taken to Pontefract Castle, and the next day
beheaded. The brother also, Sir Thomas Nevill, was killed in the
engagement,--so that she lost husband, father, and brother in the
fight; misfortunes almost greater than Lord Bonville's.
Thus died in the prime of life William Bonville (Lord Harington), the
father,--and also before he had scarcely emerged from his teens,
William Bonville the son. Probably both found common sepulture on the
battle-field, or unrecorded graves in some sanctuary near. The Earl of
Salisbury's body, and that of his son Thomas, were subsequently
conveyed to Bisham Abbey in Berkshire, and there interred, with others
of their ancestors and kindred.
It would be supposed that the aged Lord Bonville, satiated and stunned
with these accumulated horrors, would have quietly withdrawn from the
desperate dangers of further participation in these conflicts, and
devoted the remainder of his declining days to a more peaceful life,
and the preservation and guardianship of his baby great-grand-daughter,
the last green branch of his antient stock, the infant Cecily. But no,
his very name was now practically extinguished, his son and grandson
were not, and the iron of misfortune had probably entered and seared his
soul. Determined and perhaps reckless of the future on thus seeing all
his hope and ambition blasted, he still followed on, for good or for
evil, to the bitter end, regardless of consequence, the fortune of the
cause he had espoused, and for which he had sacrificed so much. Who may
enter into, or estimate fully the feelings that convulsed the stricken
heart of this old man, under such an avalanche of misery?
But this misery, sharp as it was, was mercifully of short duration.
Six weeks only intervened, in which interval it is probable Lord
Bonville retreated from Wakefield, with such of the discomfited army
that remained unslain, back to join the Earl of Warwick, then waiting
on the outskirts of London to effect a junction with the forces of
Edward, Duke of York, who had just fought and won a decisive victory
over Jasper and Owen Tudor, with a Lancastrian army at Mortimer's
Cross, near Hereford.
Before however this could be accomplished, the energetic Margaret,
flushed with success, and hurrying southward in hope to secure the
metropolis, was upon him; and the furious battle of St. Albans on the
18 Feb., 1460-1, was the result. There she at first received a check,
but by turning the position she fell on Warwick's army, and the combat
was carried on over the undulating country, between St. Albans and
Barnet, in which two thousand Yorkists are said to have perished. At
nightfall, Warwick found himself beaten at all points, and made
precipitate retreat, leaving the King, who was accompanying the army
as a prisoner, behind.
It would require no seer to divine the vindictive thoughts of
Margaret, on regaining possession of her captive husband, and the
consummate danger environing those in whose custody she found him,
whether for preservation or otherwise. The Queen and her son
discovered the helpless man in his tent with one personal attendant
only, Lord Montague his Chamberlain. But there were at least two other
distinguished men near, who were said to have remained to guard him
from the lawless soldiery, one was the brave Sir Thomas Kyriel, and
the other Lord Bonville. Both could doubtless have fled with the rest
of the fugitives, had they been so minded, but it is recorded, that
out of chivalrous feelings, when urged by the King to remain by him
and protect him, they did so, under the assurance from him that their
lives should be preserved.
A fatally hazardous undertaking in those days of merciless reprisals,
and so it turned out. Whatever the well-meaning King may have promised
and perhaps really wished, his wife, the determined Margaret, was the
"master of the situation," and the arbiter of their destiny; nor was
she probably wanting in prompters calculated to urge her to wreak the
worst vengeance upon her husband's guardians. However that may be, it
is recorded, that as she turned from the battle-field in the evening,
she left orders for their decapitation the next day, and the barbarous
sentence was promptly carried out.