DESPOTISM, DISCONTENT, AND DISORDER.
While the Woodvilles were supreme, and while Edward was under their
influence disheartening the ancient barons of England, and alienating
the great noble to whom he owed the proudest crown in Christendom, the
imprudent king did not ingratiate himself with the multitude by any
display of respect for those rights and liberties to maintain which
Warwick had won Northampton and Towton. Indeed, the government was
disfigured by acts of undisguised tyranny; and torture, albeit known
to be illegal in England, was freely used, as during the Lancastrian
rule, to extort evidence. Even the laws of the first Edward and his
great minister, Robert de Burnel, were in danger of going as much out
of fashion as the chain armor in which Roger Bigod and Humphrey Bohun
charged at Lewes and Evesham.
Edward's first victim was William Walker. This man kept a tavern in
Cheapside, known as "The Crown," and there a club, composed of young
men, had been in the habit of meeting. These fell under the suspicion
of being Lancastrians, and were supposed to be plotting a restoration.
No evidence to that effect existed; but, unfortunately, the host,
being one day in a jocular mood, while talking to his son, who was a
boy, said, "Tom, if thou behavest thyself, I'll make thee heir to the
crown." Every body knew that Walker's joke alluded to his sign; yet,
when the words were reported, he was arrested, and, as if in mockery of
common sense, indicted for imagining and compassing the death of the
king. The prisoner pleaded his innocence of any evil intention, but his
protestations were of no avail. He was found guilty, in defiance of
justice, and hanged, in defiance of mercy.
The next case, that of a poor cobbler, if not so utterly unjust, was
equally impolitic and still more cruel. Margaret of Anjou was, at
that time, using every effort to regain her influence in England, and
many persons, supposed to possess letters from the exiled queen, were
tortured and put to death on that suspicion. Of these the cobbler was
one, and one of the most severely punished. Having been apprehended
on the charge of aiding Margaret to correspond with her partisans in
England, he was tortured to death with red-hot pincers.
Even when the sufferers were Lancastrians, the barbarity of such
proceedings could not fail to make the flesh creep and the blood
curdle; but the case became still more iniquitous when government
laid hands on men attached to the house of York; when the Woodvilles,
who had themselves been Lancastrians, singled out as victims stanch
partisans of the White Rose.
Sir Thomas Cooke was one of the most reputable citizens of London,
and, in the second year of Edward's reign, had fulfilled the highest
municipal functions. Unfortunately for him, also, he had the reputation
of being so wealthy as to tempt plunder. Earl Rivers and the Duchess
of Bedford appear to have thought so; and exerted their influence with
the king to have the ex-mayor arrested on a charge of treason, and
committed to the Tower.
It appears that, in an evil hour for Cooke, a man named Hawkins had
called on him and requested the loan of a thousand marks, on good
security; but Sir Thomas said he should, in the first place, like to
know for whom the money was, and, in the second, for what purpose
it was intended. Hawkins frankly stated it was for the use of Queen
Margaret; and Cooke thereupon declined to lend a penny. Hawkins went
away, and the matter rested for some time. Sir Thomas was not, however,
destined to escape; for Hawkins, having been taken to the Tower and put
to the brake, called "the Duke of Exeter's daughter," confessed so much
in regard to himself that he was put to death; and at the same time,
under the influence of excessive pain, stated that Cooke had lent the
money to Margaret of Anjou.
The Woodvilles, having obtained such evidence against their destined
victim, seized upon Cooke's house in London, ejecting his lady and
servants, and, at the same time, took possession of Giddy Hall, his
seat in Essex, where he had fish-ponds, and a park full of deer, and
household furniture of great value. After thus appropriating the estate
of the city knight, they determined that, for form's sake, he should
have a trial; and accordingly a commission, of which Earl Rivers
was a member, was appointed to sit at Guildhall. It would seem that
the Woodvilles, meanwhile, had no apprehension of the result being
unfavorable to their interests; but, unfortunately for their scheme of
appropriation, the commission included two men who loved justice and
hated iniquity. These were Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, and Sir
John Markham, Chief Justice of England.
Markham was of a family of lawyers, whose progenitors, though scarcely
wealthier than yeomen, had held their land from time immemorial, and
been entitled to carry coat armor. Having been early called to the bar,
and successful in his profession, he became a puisne judge of the court
of king's bench; and having strongly supported the claims of the house
of York, and greatly contributed, by his abilities and learning, to
the triumph of the White Rose, he succeeded Fortescue as chief justice.
But, though zealous for the hereditary right of the house of York,
Markham was neither a minion nor a tool of its members; and, though
he could not but be aware what the court expected, he was incapable
of doing any thing to forfeit the public respect which he enjoyed as
"The Upright Judge." When, therefore, the evidence against Cooke had
been taken, and the whole case heard, the chief justice ruled that the
offense was not treason, but, at the most, "Misprision of Treason," and
directed the jury so to find it.
The lands of Sir Thomas Cooke were saved, and the Woodvilles, angry
as wild beasts deprived of their prey, vowed vengeance on the chief
justice. Accordingly Earl Rivers and his duchess pressed Edward to
dismiss the unaccommodating functionary; and Edward swore that Markham
should never sit on the bench again. Markham, submitting with a dignity
becoming his high character, carried his integrity into retirement; and
Sir Thomas Cooke was set free after he had paid an enormous fine.
Every man of intelligence must now have seen that the Woodvilles
would embroil Edward with the nation. While the king was, under their
influence, perpetrating such enormities as caused grave discontent,
he was aroused to a sense of insecurity by formidable commotions in
the north. For the origin of these, the master and brethren of the
Hospital of St. Leonards appear to have been responsible. The right of
levying a thrave of corn from every plow in the country for the relief
of the poor had, it seems, been granted to the hospital by one of the
Anglo-Saxon kings; but the rural population complained that the revenue
was not expended for charitable purposes, but employed by the master
and brethren for their private advantage. After long complaining, the
people of the country refused to pay, and, in retaliation, their goods
were distrained and their persons imprisoned. At length, in 1469,
finding they could get no redress, the recusants took up arms, and,
under a captain named Robert Hulderne, they put the officers of the
hospital to the sword, and, to the number of fifteen thousand, marched,
in hostile array, to the gates of York.
The insurgents, however, were not to have it all their own way. Lord
Montagu commanded in the district; and he prepared to put down the
rising with that vigor and energy which had hitherto characterized
his military operations. Accordingly, he hastened to bring them to
an engagement. A skirmish took place; the insurgents were scattered;
and Hulderne, their leader, having been taken, was sent by Montagu to
immediate execution. Nevertheless, the insurgents continued in arms;
and, having been joined by Lord Fitzhugh and Sir Henry Neville, the
son of Lord Latimer, one a nephew, the other a cousin of Warwick, they
placed Sir John Conyers, a soldier of courage and experience, at their
head, advanced toward London, denouncing the Woodvilles as taxers and
oppressors, and loudly demanding their dismissal from the council.
Edward now roused himself from voluptuous lethargy, and prepared
to defend his crown. Without delay, he gave commissions to William
Herbert, whom he had created Earl of Pembroke, and Humphrey Stafford,
to whom, on the execution of Hugh, Earl of Devon, at Salisbury, he had
given the heritage of the Courtenays, to march against the rebels. At
the same time, Edward buckled on his armor, and advanced to Newark.
There, however, he thought it prudent to halt; and, finding his army
utterly weak and unsteady, he retreated to Nottingham. Hitherto he
had thought England none the worse for Warwick's absence; but now he
dispatched a message to Calais, beseeching the earl and Clarence to
come to his assistance. Having thus bent his pride, Edward waited the
result with anxiety.
Meanwhile, Herbert and Stafford were in the field. Hastily assembling
seven thousand men, most of whom were Welsh, the two Yorkist earls
moved against the insurgents; but they had hardly done so, when an
unfortunate dispute involved them in serious disasters.
It was at Banbury, when the royal army approached the insurgents, that
the quarrel took place. It appears that the Yorkist earls had agreed,
in the course of their expedition, that when either took possession of
a lodging, he should be allowed to keep it undisturbed. On reaching
Banbury, on the 25th of July, Stafford took up his quarters at an inn,
where there was a damsel for whom he had a partiality. Herbert, who was
so proud of the king's letter that he could hardly contain his joy,[9]
insisted upon putting Stafford out of the hostelry; and Stafford, whose
spirit was high, took offense at being so treated by an inferior. Angry
words passed, and the consequence was that Stafford mounted his horse,
and rode from the town, with his men-at-arms and archers. Herbert,
alarmed at being left alone, hastened to the hill on which his soldiers
were encamped, and expressed his intention of abiding such fortune as
GOD should send.
When evening advanced, Sir Henry Neville, at the head of his
light-horse, commenced skirmishing with the Welsh, and, advancing too
far, he was surrounded and slain. The northern men, thereupon, vowed
vengeance; and next morning, at Edgecote, attacked the royal army with
fury. Herbert, on the occasion, bore himself with a courage which
well-nigh justified the king's favor; and his brother, Richard, twice,
by main force, hewed his way through the insurgent ranks. Animated
by the example of their leaders, the Welshmen were on the point of
victory, when an esquire, named John Clapham, attended by five hundred
men, and bearing a white bear, the banner of the king-maker, came up
the hill, shouting--"A Warwick! A Warwick!" Hearing this war-cry,
so terrible, and believing that "The Stout Earl" was upon them, the
Welshmen fled in such terror and confusion that the northern men
slaughtered five thousand of them. Herbert and his brother Richard,
having been taken, were carried to Banbury, and there beheaded, in
revenge for the death of Sir Henry Neville. Elate with their victory at
Banbury, the insurgents resolved upon giving a lesson to the "queen's
kindred;" and, choosing for their captain Robert Hilyard, whom men
called "Robin of Redesdale," they marched to the Manor of Grafton,
seized on Earl Rivers and John Woodville, who had wedded the old
Duchess of Norfolk, carried these obnoxious individuals to Nottingham,
and there beheaded them as taxers and oppressors.
The king, on hearing of the defeat of Herbert and the execution of the
Woodvilles, expressed the utmost resentment. Displeased with himself
and every body else, he looked around for a victim on whom to wreak his
fury; and, considering that of all connected with these misfortunes
Stafford was the least blameless, he issued orders that the unfortunate
nobleman should be seized, and dealt with as a traitor. The royal
commands were obeyed. Stafford was taken at a village in Brentmarsh,
carried to Bridgewater, and executed.
The aspect of affairs gradually became more threatening. At length
Warwick arrived in England, and repaired to the king, who was encamped
at Olney. He found Edward in no enviable plight. His friends were
killed or scattered, and his enemies close upon him. The earl was just
the man for such a crisis, and he consented to exercise his influence.
He went to the insurgents, promised to see their grievances redressed,
spoke to them in that popular strain which he alone could use; and, at
his bidding, they dispersed and went northward. Edward, however, found
that he was hardly more free than when the forces of Robin of Redesdale
hemmed him in. The earl, in fact, took the king into his own hands
till he should redeem his promise to the insurgents, and conveyed him,
as a kind of prisoner, to the Castle of Middleham.
Edward had no intention of granting the popular demands; and he was
not the man to submit patiently to durance. He gained the hearts of
his keepers, and obtained liberty to go a-hunting. This privilege he
turned to account; and having one day been met by Sir William Stanley,
Sir Thomas Brough, and others of his friends, he rode with them to
York, pursued his way to Lancaster, and, having there been met by Lord
Hastings, reached London in safety.
A peace between Warwick and the king was brought about by their
friends; and Edward's eldest daughter was betrothed to Montagu's
son. But a few weeks after this reconciliation, the earl took mortal
offense. The cause is involved in some mystery. It appears, however,
that Edward had two failings in common with many men both small and
great--a weakness for wine and a weakness for women. He was much too
fond of deep drinking, and by no means free from the indiscretions of
those who indulge to excess in the social cup. On some occasion, it
would seem, the king was guilty of a flagrant impropriety which touched
the honor and roused the resentment of the earl. Even at this day the
exact circumstances are unknown; but, in the fifteenth century, rumor
was not silent on the subject. Hall has indicated, in language somewhat
too plain for this generation, that the offense was an insult offered
by the king, in Warwick's house, to the niece or daughter of the earl;
and adds, that "the certainty was not for both their honors openly
known." But, however that may have been, the strife between the king
and the king-maker now assumed the character of mortal enmity, and led
rapidly to those events which rendered the year 1470 memorable in the
annals of England.
Edward was not long left in doubt as to the earl's views. At the Moor,
in Hertfordshire, which then belonged to the Archbishop of York, which
passed fifteen years later to John de Vere, Earl of Oxford, and which,
in later days, became the seat of Anne Scott, heiress of Buccleuch
and widow of the ill-fated Monmouth, George Neville, one day in the
month of February, gave a banquet to the king. On the occasion Warwick
and Clarence were invited; and all was going on well, and Edward was
washing his hands before sitting down to supper, when one of his
attendants whispered that armed men were lurking near the house to
seize him. The king started, but, recovering himself sufficiently to
betray no signs of alarm, he got secretly out of the house, mounted his
horse, and, riding all night, reached Windsor Castle in safety.
Edward was not quite prepared to punish this attempt on his liberty.
He, therefore, listened to the mediation of the Duchess of York;
and that lady was laboring to effect another reconciliation, when
an insurrection took place among the people of Lincolnshire. These
complained bitterly of the oppression of the royal purveyors; and they
were headed by Sir Robert Welles, the heir of a family remarkable for
fidelity to the house of Lancaster.
Warwick was suspected to be the author of this disturbance.
Nevertheless, the king found it necessary to treat the earl and
Clarence as if he entertained no suspicion. He even intrusted them with
the command of forces destined to suppress the insurgents, while he
prepared to march against them with a numerous army.
Meanwhile, the king sent for Lord Welles, father of Sir Robert, and,
at the royal summons, that nobleman came to Westminster, in company
with Sir Thomas Dymoke, who had married his daughter. Being informed,
however, that the king was much incensed, the Lancastrian lord and
his son-in-law deemed it prudent to repair to the sanctuary. Edward,
however, plighted his word as a prince, that he intended no harm,
and they, fully relying on a pledge so sacred, came to his presence.
Edward, thereupon, commanded Lord Welles to write to his son to desist
from his enterprise; but Sir Robert continuing firm in spite of the
paternal admonition, Edward caused both the old lord and his son-in-law
to be executed.
After this faithless proceeding Edward left London. Marching against
the insurgents, he came up with them on the 13th of March, at
Erpingham, in the county of Rutland. The royal army was so superior in
number that Sir Robert had scarcely a chance of victory. Exasperated,
however, by the execution of his father, the brave knight, setting
prudence at defiance, was eager for an encounter. The armies joined
battle, and it soon appeared that Sir Robert had reckoned without his
host. The conflict was utterly unequal; and, the insurgents having
been worsted, their leader was taken prisoner. No sooner was Welles in
the hands of the enemy than the Lincolnshire men whom he had commanded
became a mob, and fled from the field, having previously thrown off
their coats, that their running might not be impeded. From this
circumstance the battle was popularly spoken of as "Losecote Field."
The tables were now turned. The king was in a condition to defy
Warwick, while the king-maker had no means of raising such a force
as could, with any chance of success, encounter the royal army
flushed with victory. The earl, however, made one effort. Being at
his Castle of Warwick, and hearing of Edward's victory at Erpingham,
he endeavored to draw Lord Stanley, his brother-in-law, to his side.
Stanley, however, was far too prudent a man to rush into danger even
for his great kinsman's sake. He answered that "he would never make war
against King Edward;" and Warwick and Clarence were compelled to turn
toward Dartmouth.