WARWICK'S VICE-ADMIRAL.
One day in May, 1471, while Edward of York was at Tewkesbury, while
Henry of Windsor was a captive in the Tower, and while Elizabeth
Woodville and her family were also lodged for security in the
metropolitan fortress--thus at once serving the purposes of a prison
and a palace--a sudden commotion took place in the capital of England,
and consternation appeared on the face of every citizen. The alarm
was by no means causeless, for never had the wealth of London looked
so pale since threatened by the Lancastrian army after the battle on
Bernard's Heath.
Among the English patricians who, at the beginning of the struggle
between York and Lancaster, attached themselves to the fortunes of the
White Rose, was William Neville, son of Ralph, Earl of Westmoreland,
brother of Cicely, Duchess of York, and uncle of Richard, Earl of
Warwick. This Yorkist warrior derived from the heiress whom he had
married the lordship of Falconbridge; and, after leading the van at
Towton, he was rewarded by Edward with the earldom of Kent. Dying
soon after, he was laid at rest, with obsequies befitting his rank,
in the Priory of Gisborough, and his lands were inherited by his three
daughters, one of whom was the wife of Sir John Conyers.
The Earl of Kent left no legitimate son to inherit his honors;
but he left an illegitimate son, named Thomas Neville, and known,
after the fashion of the age, as "The Bastard of Falconbridge." The
misfortune of Falconbridge's birth, of course, prevented him from
becoming his father's heir; but, being "a man of turbulent spirit and
formed for action," he had no idea of passing his life in obscurity.
His relationship to Warwick was not distant; and "The Stout Earl,"
duly appreciating the courage and vigor of his illegitimate kinsman,
nominated him vice-admiral, and appointed him to prevent Edward
receiving any aid from the Continent.
While Warwick lived, Falconbridge appears to have executed his
commission on the narrow seas with fidelity and decorum. But when
Barnet had been fought, and the vice-admiral had no longer the fear
of the king-maker before his eyes, the narrow seas saw another sight.
Throwing off all restraint, he took openly to piracy, and, joined by
some malcontents from Calais, went so desperately to work, that in a
marvelously short space of time he made his name terrible to skippers
and traders. Falconbridge was not, however, content with this kind of
fame. He had always believed himself destined to perform some mighty
achievement, and he now found his soul swelling with an irresistible
ambition to attempt the restoration of Lancaster. The peril attending
such an exploit might, indeed, have daunted the boldest spirit; but the
courage of the Bastard was superlative, and his audacity was equal to
his courage.
The enterprise of Falconbridge was not at first so utterly desperate as
subsequent events made it appear. The Lancastrians were not yet quite
subdued. Oxford was still free and unsubdued; Pembroke was in arms on
the marches of Wales; and the men of the north, on whom Edward's hand
had been so heavy, were arming to take revenge on their tyrant, and
liberate from his grasp the woman who, with her smiles and tears, had
in other days tempted them to do battle in her behalf. If, under these
circumstances, Falconbridge could take Henry out of prison, proclaim
the monk-monarch once more in London, and send northward the news of a
Lancastrian army being in possession of the capital, he might change
the destiny of England, and enroll his own name in the annals of fame.
No time was lost in maturing the project. Landing at Sandwich,
Falconbridge was admitted into Canterbury, and prepared to march upon
the metropolis. His adventure soon began to wear a hopeful aspect.
Indeed, his success was miraculous; for, as he made his way through
Kent, the army, which originally consisted of the desperadoes of the
Cinque Ports and the riff-raff of Calais, swelled till it numbered some
seventeen thousand men. Posting this formidable host on the Surrey side
of the Thames, and, at the same time, causing his ships to secure the
river above St. Katherine's, Falconbridge demanded access to the city,
that he might take Henry out of the Tower, and then pass onward to
encounter the usurper.
The mayor and aldermen, however, sorely perplexed, determined to stand
by the house of York, and sent post-haste to inform the king that
London was menaced by land and water, and to implore him to hasten
to the relief of his faithful city. Edward, who, to awe the northern
insurgents, had proceeded as far as Coventry, forthwith sent fifteen
hundred men to the capital; and, on meeting the Earl of Northumberland,
who came to assure him of the peace of the north, the king turned his
face southward, and hurried toward London.
Meanwhile the patience of Falconbridge had given way. Enraged at the
refusal of the Londoners to admit his army, and anxious to gratify
the appetite of his followers for plunder, the Bastard expressed his
intention of passing the Thames with his army at Kingston, destroying
Westminster, and then taking revenge on the citizens of London for
keeping him without their gates. Finding, however, that the wooden
bridge at Kingston was broken down, and all the places of passage
guarded, he drew his forces into St. George's Fields, and from that
point prepared to carry London by assault.
His plan thus formed, Falconbridge commenced operations with
characteristic energy. After carrying his ordnance from the ships, he
planted guns and stationed archers along the banks of the Thames. At
first considerable execution was done. Many houses were battered down
by the ordnance, and London experienced much inconvenience from the
flight of arrows; but the citizens soon showed that this was a game
at which two parties could play. Having brought their artillery to
the river-side, and planted it over against that of their assailants,
they returned the fire with an effect so galling, that the adherents
of the vice-admiral found their position intolerable, and retreated in
confusion from their guns.
Falconbridge was not the man to despair early of the enterprise upon
which he had ventured. Seeing his men fall back in dismay, he resolved
on prosecuting the assault in a more direct way, and on going closely
to work with his antagonists. He resolved, moreover, on making a
great attempt at London Bridge, and, at the same time, ordered his
lieutenants--Spicing and Quintine--to embark three thousand men, pass
the Thames in ships, and force Aldgate and Bishopgate. The desperadoes,
crossing the river, acted in obedience to their leader's orders, and
London was at once assailed suddenly at three separate points. But
the Londoners continued obstinate. Encouraged by the news of Edward's
victory, and incited to valor by the example of Robert Basset and
Ralph Jocelyne, aldermen of the city, they faced the peril with
fortitude, and offered so desperate a defense, that seven hundred of
the assailants were slain. Repulsed on all points, and despairing of
success, the Bastard was fain to beat a retreat.
Baffled in his efforts to take the capital by storm, Falconbridge led
his adherents into Kent, and encamped on Blackheath. His prospects were
not now encouraging; and for three days he remained in his camp without
any new exploits. At the end of that time he learned that Edward was
approaching, and doubtless felt that the idea of trying conclusions
at the head of a mob with the army that had conquered at Barnet and
Tewkesbury was not to be entertained. The undisciplined champions of
the Red Rose, indeed, dispersed at the news of Edward's coming, as
pigeons do at the approach of a hawk; and their adventurous leader,
having taken to his ships, that lay at Blackwall, sailed for Sandwich.
On Tuesday, the 21st of May, seventeen days after Tewkesbury, Edward
of York, at the head of thirty thousand men, entered London as a
conqueror, and in his train to the capital came Margaret of Anjou as a
captive. The broken-hearted queen found herself committed to the Tower,
and condemned as a prisoner of state to brood, without hope and without
consolation, over irreparable misfortunes and intolerable woes.
On Wednesday morning--it was that of Ascension Day--the citizens of
London, who some hours earlier had been thanked for their loyalty to
Edward of York, were informed that Henry of Lancaster had been found
dead in the Tower, and soon after the corpse was borne bare-faced,
on a bier, through Cheapside to St. Paul's, and there exposed to the
public view. Notwithstanding this ceremony, rumors were current that
the dethroned king had met with foul play. People naturally supposed
that Falconbridge's attempt to release Henry precipitated this sad
event; and they did not fail to notice that on the morning when the
body was conveyed to St. Paul's the king and Richard of Gloucester left
London.[13]
A resting-place beside his hero-sire, in the Chapel of St. Edward,
might have been allowed to the only king since the Conquest who had
emulated the Confessor's sanctity. But another edifice than the Abbey
of Westminster was selected as the place of sepulture; and, on the
evening of Ascension Day, the corpse, having been placed in a barge
guarded by soldiers from Calais, was conveyed up the Thames, and,
during the silence of midnight, committed to the dust in the Monastery
of Chertsey. It was not at Chertsey, however, that the saintly king
was to rest. When years had passed over, and Richard had ascended the
throne, the mortal remains of Henry were removed from Chertsey to
Windsor, and interred with much pomp in the south side of the choir in
St. George's Chapel, there to rest, it was hoped, till that great day,
for the coming of which he had religiously prepared by the devotion of
a life.
After consigning Margaret to the Tower and Henry to the tomb, Edward
led his army from London, marched to Canterbury, and prepared to
inflict severe punishment on Falconbridge. Meanwhile, as vice-admiral,
Falconbridge had taken possession of Sandwich, where forty-seven
ships obeyed his command. With this naval force, and the town
fortified in such a way as to withstand a siege, the Bastard prepared
for resistance; but, on learning that the royal army had reached
Canterbury, his heart began to fail, and he determined, if possible, to
obtain a pardon. With this object, Falconbridge dispatched a messenger
to Edward; and the king was, doubtless, glad enough to get so bold a
rebel quietly into his power. At all events, he determined on deluding
the turbulent vice-admiral with assurances of safety and promises of
favor; and Gloucester was empowered to negotiate a treaty.
Matters at first went smoothly. The duke rode to Sandwich to assure his
illegitimate cousin of the king's full forgiveness, and about the 26th
of May Falconbridge made his submission, and promised to be a faithful
subject. Edward then honored him with knighthood, and confirmed him in
the post of vice-admiral. At the same time, the king granted a full
pardon to the Bastard's adherents; and they, relying on the royal word,
surrendered the town of Sandwich, with the castle, and the ships that
lay in the port. "But how this composition was observed," says Baker,
"may be imagined, when Falconbridge, who was comprised in the pardon,
was afterward taken and executed at Southampton. Spicing and Quintine,
the captains that assailed Aldgate and Bishopgate, and were in Sandwich
Castle at the surrender thereof, were presently beheaded at Canterbury,
and their heads placed on poles in the gates; and, by a commission of
Oyer and Terminer, many, both in Essex and Kent, were arraigned and
condemned for this rebellion."
About Michaelmas, Falconbridge expiated his ill-fated ambition; and the
citizens had the satisfaction, in autumn, of seeing his head exposed
to warn malcontents to beware of Edward of York. "Thomas Falconbridge,
his head," says Paston, "was yesterday set upon London Bridge, looking
Kentward, and men say that his brother was sore hurt, and escaped to
sanctuary to Beverley." So ended the ambitious attempt of Warwick's
vice-admiral to play the part of king-maker.