Castle became again a royal residence. The King deposited within
its walls his treasure and regalia, using the Castle also for the
confinement of State prisoners, the objects of his jealousy and
revenge. In the year 1202 King John took prisoners at the Castle of
Mirabel in Poitou, in France, the youthful Prince Arthur, Duke of
Brittany, his nephew, together with his sister, the Princess Eleanor.
It must be remembered that this Prince Arthur, being the only son
of John’s elder brother, Geoffrey, was the real heir to the throne
after the death of Richard Cœur de Lion. Prince Arthur is supposed to
have been murdered at Rouen by order of King John; but the Princess
(sometimes called the “Damsel of Bretagne,” and sometimes from her
personal attractions, the “Beauty of Brittany”), having inherited her
brother’s legal right to the throne, was brought to England and kept
a close prisoner for the rest of her life. For some time she was a
prisoner in Corfe Castle, where she remained at the decease of her
uncle, King John. Two other princesses shared the captivity of the
beautiful and high-spirited Eleanor during her residence at Corfe,
and were her companions there. These were Margery and Isabel, the two
daughters of William, King of Scotland. Some curious and interesting
details have come down to us respecting articles supplied for the use
of the royal ladies whilst they remained at Corfe Castle, which show
that they enjoyed many indulgences. For instance, on June 29th, 1213,
the Mayor and Reeves of Winchester were commanded to supply to the
Queen, the King’s niece, and the two daughters of the King of Scotland
who were at Corfe Castle, such robes and caps and all other things
necessary for the vestment as should be demanded (the cost to be repaid
out of the King’s Exchequer). There is another interesting entry on
July 6th, 1213: The Mayor of Winchester was commanded to send in haste
to the King, for the use of his niece, Eleanor, and the two daughters
of the King of Scotland, robes of dark green, namely, tunics and
super-tunics, with capes of cambric and fur of Minever and twenty-three
yards of good linen cloth; also, for the King’s niece, one good cap
of dark brown, furred with Minever, and one hood for rainy weather,
for the use of the same; besides robes of bright green, for the use
of their three waiting-maids; also tunics and super-tunics and cloaks
with capes of Minever or rabbit-skins and furs of lamb-skins, and thin
shoes, for the use of the daughters of the King of Scotland, the King’s
niece, and her three waiting-maids; also, for the use of the King’s
niece, one saddle, with gilded reins; and the Mayor is to come himself
with all the above articles to Corfe, there to receive the money for
the cost of the same. A little later on, another cap for rainy weather,
a riding saddle, shoes, and sixty yards of linen cloth, are ordered to
be supplied from Winchester.
The prices paid give us an insight into the value of money at that
period:—
£ s. d.
A silken couch 1 10 1
2 coverlets of fine linen 2 2 1
6½ yards of scarlet for coverlets 1 3 0
1 fur of lamb-skin 0 4 0
Ten shillings a day were allowed to the Sheriff for the Princesses’
maintenance.
To return to Prince Arthur and his wicked uncle. King John captured at
the same time as Prince Arthur many barons and more than two hundred
knights of Poitou and Guienne, who were in arms with Prince Arthur.
These were all loaded with irons and sent to different prisons in
Normandy and England. Many of these poor prisoners perished in their
prisons, and no fewer than twenty-two of the noblest and bravest of
them were starved to death in Corfe Castle.
From the reign of King John to that of Queen Elizabeth allusion is
frequently made in history to Corfe Castle.
It was in 1587, in the days of Queen Elizabeth, that Corfe Castle
ceased to be a royal residence, she having sold it to Sir Christopher
Hatton for £4,761 18s. 7½d. Sir Christopher repaired and decorated
the Castle at vast expense.
During the “Invincible Armada” scare, Corfe Castle once more became a
fortress. Cannons were for the first time mounted on its walls, and
Queen Elizabeth for encouragement gave a charter to the inhabitants of
the Castle and borough, which conferred upon them all the same rights
and privileges as those enjoyed by the inhabitants of the Cinque Ports,
including the right of returning two members to Parliament. The Spanish
fleet did, in fact, pass within a short distance of the Dorset coast;
but, as the so-called Invincible Armada came utterly to grief, it gave
no further trouble.
As Sir Christopher Hatton died a bachelor, Corfe Castle passed to his
nephew Sir William Hatton, who, dying without children, left the Castle
to his widow, the Lady Elizabeth Hatton, who married Lord Chief Justice
Coke.
On the death of Sir Edward Coke, his widow and daughter found
themselves at liberty to dispose of a mansion whose gloomy grandeur and
position, remote from the busier scenes of life, did not well accord
with their tastes and habits; so that on Sir John Bankes making an
offer for the purchase of the Castle, the ladies were doubtless only
too glad to conclude the bargain.
Sir John Bankes was descended from a good Cumberland family living in
Keswick, where he was born in 1589. At the age of fifteen he went to
Oxford University, and in due course became a barrister in Gray’s Inn.
His extraordinary diligence in his profession recommended him early to
his sovereign, Charles I., and in 1640 he was made Chief Justice of the
Common Pleas. His wife, the brave Lady Bankes, was a daughter of the
very ancient family of the Hawtreys, of Rislip, in Middlesex.
To enter the Castle an ancient stone bridge, consisting of four
semi-circular arches, must be traversed. There is probably no bridge of
greater antiquity in the West of England.
The first ward forms an irregular triangle, containing eight towers,
at unequal distances, of amazing strength and durability. The gateway
leading to the second ward has provision for a portcullis of vast size
similar to that which is found in the grand staircase. Just within
the gateway, on the right hand, was a flight of steps which led up to
the Great or King’s Tower on the exterior summit of a very high hill.
Tradition says, and apparently with truth, that just at the entrance of
this second ward, under the archway, Edward the Martyr received his
death-blow from the hand of the assassin. The dungeon, an octagonal
tower, is said to have been the place of imprisonment for criminals
and captives of inferior rank. Near this tower a stone is visible,
projecting from the wall, with a deep notch cut into it, which is said
to have been the place of execution. The third and principal ward is
situate on the highest part of the hill, and on the west part, on the
very top of the hill, stood the Great, or King’s Tower, 72 ft. by 60
ft., and about 80 ft. high, with a wall 12 ft. thick. This seems to
have been the State prison, as the windows that remain are such a
height above the floors that they must have been thus arranged in order
to prevent the prisoners escaping. The fourth ward is the least of all
the wards; in it was a small garden at the east end, near which was the
Sally Port, where the enemy entered when the Castle was surprised; and
near it is a well, now stopped up, into which (tradition says) Lady
Bankes threw a considerable quantity of money and plate.
King Charles I. was a victim to circumstances. The Civil War was the
result of the reaction of the popular mind in favour of liberty from
its slavish submission to the tyranny of the Tudor Kings. It was
hastened by King Charles’ folly in enforcing subsidies to pay off
his father’s debts and to carry on his Continental wars, without the
consent of the people; also by his resolution to rule the kingdom
without a parliament.
King Charles came to the throne in 1625, but it was not until 1642
that the unhappy differences between the King and the two Houses of
Parliament grew so great that nothing but the sword could decide the
controversy. Poor Sir John Bankes found himself in a very unfortunate
position. He was upon the summer circuit, and when presiding at the
assizes at Salisbury he had, in his charge to the Grand Jury, denounced
the Earl of Essex, Lord Manchester, and others, as guilty of high
treason for continuing in arms against the King. Another serious
subject of offence consisted in the fact of his having subscribed
liberally to the necessities of the King—an acknowledgment of which,
in King Charles’ own hand-writing, is still preserved at Kingston
Lacy. These and various other causes were quite sufficient to induce a
furious assault upon Corfe Castle.
Prior to this, Lady Bankes, who is described as being a prudent lady,
resolved with her children and family to retire to Corfe Castle,
to shelter themselves from the storm which she saw was coming. She
remained undisturbed all the winter and a great part of the spring,
until May, 1643, when the rebels, under the command of Sir Walter Erle
and Sir Thomas Trenchard, of Wolfeton House, and others, had gained
possession of Dorchester, Lyme Regis, Melcombe, Weymouth, Wareham, and
Poole. Portland Castle being treacherously delivered to the rebels,
only Corfe Castle remained in obedience to the King. But the rebels,
wanting to add this castle to their other garrisons, and preferring to
try and gain it by treachery, resolved to lay hold of an opportunity
that they knew was just about to offer. To quote the language of the
old chronicler:
It seems that by an ancient usage the Mayor and the Barons (as his
Town Councillors were called) of Corfe Castle, accompanied by the
gentry of the Island of Purbeck, had permission from the Lord of the
Castle on May Day to course a stag, which every year was performed
with much solemnity and great concourse of people.
On May Day, 1642, some troops of horse from Dorchester and other places
came into the island under pretence of hunting the stag; but really
their intention was suddenly to surprise the gentlemen whilst hunting
and to take Corfe Castle. But the news of their coming reached the
Castle before them. The hunters dispersed, and Lady Bankes ordered the
great gates of the Castle to be closed against all comers. The troopers
accordingly found themselves cheated of their prey, whereupon the
common soldiers used threatening language; but the officers, who knew
better how to conceal their resolution, utterly disavowed any such
thought, denying that they had any orders to attack the Castle. Lady
Bankes was not deceived by the officers’ civil speeches; and, to quote
once more from the old chronicler:
She very wisely, and like herself, hence took occasion to call in a
guard to assist her, not knowing how soon she might have occasion to
make use of them, it being now more than probable that the rebels had
a design upon the Castle.
No one, of course, knows to what straits the poor lady and her few
faithful attendants were put; but provisions must have been at a
low ebb or Lady Bankes would never have delivered up the four small
cannons, the biggest carrying not above a 3-lb. shot. The result of
this compromise was that, having delivered up the four cannons, the
rebels agreed to permit her to enjoy the Castle in peace and quietness.
Having gained the four cannons, the rebels retired, and, growing weary
of watching the Castle gates, they grew negligent as to what was
brought in, nor did they take care, as before, to intercept supplies
which might enable the Castle people to hold out against a siege. Lady
Bankes, making use of this carelessness, furnished the Castle with
provisions of every description. A supply, too, of ammunition was
brought in; and, hearing that the King’s forces, under Prince Maurice
and the Marquis of Hertford, were advancing towards Blandford, Lady
Bankes sent a private messenger begging that some officers might be
sent to take charge of the Castle: whereupon Captain Laurence, son of
Sir Edward Laurence, a gentleman of the Isle of Purbeck, was sent.
There was likewise in the Castle one Captain Bond, an old soldier,
“whom,” says the chronicler, “I should deprive of his due honour not to
mention him as having shared in the honour of this resistance.”
On June 23rd, 1643, commenced a six weeks’ strict siege of Corfe
Castle, between 200 and 300 horse and foot, with two cannons; the
rebels faced the Castle, and from the hills surrounding played on the
fortress. At the same time they set on fire four houses in the town
of Corfe, and then summoned the Castle to surrender; but, receiving
a refusal, for that time they left it—but only for a time, as Sir
Walter Erle, accompanied by Captain Sydenham, Captain Henry Jervis, and
Captain Skuts, of Poole, with a body of between five and six hundred
men, came and took possession of the town of Corfe, taking advantage
of a misty morning, so as to find no resistance from the Castle. With
a small cannon, a culverin, and their muskets, they played on the
fortress. To bind the soldiers by tie of conscience, they administered
an oath to them, mutually binding themselves to most unchristian
resolutions—that if they found the defendants obstinate, they would not
yield; that they would maintain the siege to victory and deny quarter
unto all, killing without mercy men, women, and children. And to bring
on their own soldiers they deceived them with falsehoods, saying that
the Castle stood on a level, with good advantages of approach; also,
that there were only forty men within the fortress, of whom twenty
were ready to turn traitors. They also did their best to corrupt the
defenders of the Castle to betray it into their hands; but when all
these arts took no effect, the rebel commanders fell to stratagems and
engines. One of these machines they called a “sow,” and the other a
“boar”; they were made with boards lined with wool to deaden the shot.
The “sow” was a class of engine used as a protection for soldiers
attacking a fortress; it was constructed of strong timber, bound
together by hoop-iron, and roofed with hides and sheepskins to render
it proof against such musket-shot or other missiles as were then in
use. In front there were doors and windows, which were kept closed till
the walls were reached; but behind it was open for the admission or
retreat of the besiegers. Mounted on wheels, it was moved forward by
the occupants by means of levers.
The rebels used Corfe Church as their principal battery and
headquarters, and they seem to have desecrated the interior of the
sacred building in every possible way. Of the surplices they made
shirts for the soldiers; the organ pipes were torn down to serve as
cases for their powder and shot; and, not being furnished with musket
bullets, they cut off the lead of the church, and, rolling it up, they
shot it without ever casting it in a mould.
Sir Walter Erle and the other rebel commanders were earnest to press
forward the soldiers; but as prodigal as they were of the blood of
their men, they were sparing enough of their own. It was a general
observation, says the chronicler, sarcastically, that valiant Sir
Walter never willingly exposed himself to any hazard; and to the
eternal honour of this knight’s valour, be it recorded that, for fear
of musket-shot, he was seen to creep on all-fours on the side of Corfe
Castle hill to keep himself from danger.
This base cowardice of the assailants added courage and resolution to
the defenders; therefore, not compelled by want, but rather to brave
the rebels, they sallied out of the Castle, and brought eight cows and
a bull into the fortress without a single man being even wounded.
The rebels, having spent much time and ammunition, and some men, were
now as far from taking the Castle as on the first day they began. At
last the Earl of Warwick sent them 150 sailors, with several cart-loads
of ammunition and scaling ladders, to take the Castle by assault.
Rewards were offered to those who first should scale the walls: twenty
pounds to the first, and smaller sums to those who should follow; but
all this could not avail with these poor wretches, who were brought
hither like sheep to the slaughter. Some of the rebel party had
actually exchanged certain death by the rope for that of a chance death
by bullets, as some of them were actually condemned criminals let out
of prison.
On finding that money rewards and persuasion could not prevail with
such abject, low-spirited men, the rebel commanders resolved to give
their men strong drink, knowing that drunkenness makes some men fight
like lions, who when sober are as cowardly as hares. The only man who
was not the worse for drink, says the chronicler, with biting sarcasm,
was the commander of the party, Sir Walter Erle, who kept himself sober
lest he should become valiant against his will.
Being now possessed with a borrowed courage, the rebels divided
their forces into two parties, whereof one assaulted the middle
ward, defended by valiant Captain Laurence and the greater part of
the soldiers; while the other assaulted the upper ward, which Lady
Bankes—“to her eternal honour be it spoken,” says the chronicler—with
her daughter, women-servants, and five soldiers, undertook to defend
against the rebels. And what she undertook she bravely performed, for
by heaving over stones and hot embers, they repelled the rebels and
kept them from climbing the ladders. Thus repulsed, and having lost
one hundred men, Sir Walter Erle, on hearing that the King’s forces
were advancing, ran away, leaving Sydenham as commander-in-chief,
who, afraid to appear, kept sanctuary in Corfe Church till nightfall,
meaning to sup and run away by starlight; but, supper being ready
and set on the table, an alarm was given that the King’s forces were
coming. This news took away Sydenham’s appetite; so, leaving artillery,
ammunition, and last, but not least, his good supper, the rebels all
ran away to take boat for Poole, leaving on the shore about one hundred
horses, which proved a valuable prize next day to the soldiers of the
Castle.
Thus, after six weeks’ strict siege, Corfe Castle, the desire of the
enemy, by the loyalty and brave resolution of Lady Bankes, the valour
of Captain Laurence and some eighty soldiers, was delivered from the
bloody intentions of these merciless rebels on August 4th, 1643.
Few portions of the kingdom were now undisturbed, and civil war shook
the domestic happiness of both the highest and the lowest of the land.
Poor Sir John Bankes, on his return home from circuit, found his wife
ready to welcome him within the battered walls of his castle. His
wife had become a heroine during his long absence from home, and his
children had endless stories to relate of their invincible prowess
in the days of danger. He found his castle safe and his property
preserved; but Corfe Church had been desecrated and unroofed, the shops
in the little town had been plundered, and all that would burn of the
stone-built cottages around had been destroyed by conflagration.
There was much, however, at the moment to render this a joyful meeting
at Corfe Castle, for it seemed as if the sun of the King’s fortune was
about to ascend again. But in 1644 the tide of royal success, which
had flowed so steadily through the western counties in the preceding
year, was now ebbing fast in the county of Dorset. On June 16th, 1644,
Weymouth surrendered to the Earl of Essex, and three days afterwards
Dorchester followed suit. On August 10th, 1644, Colonel Sydenham and
Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper arrived with their troops before the town of
Wareham, and began to storm the outworks, whereupon the town agreed to
surrender.
Corfe Castle was now almost the only place of strength between Exeter
and London which still held out for the royal cause, and the constant
valour of Lady Bankes, who defended it, is to be estimated not so much
by her active enterprise and resistance in the hours of excitement and
attack as by her long endurance through tedious weeks and months of
anxiety, encompassed as she was by threats and dangers on every side.
She had now a second winter to look forward to. All the neighbouring
towns had become hostile, and the only encouragement and aid she could
expect (her husband being absent, and her sons quite young) was that of
a garrison to consist of soldiers brought from a distance, under the
command of officers who were little, if at all, known to her.
Early in the winter the misfortune which she had least reason to
anticipate befell her, for on December 28th, 1644, her husband, the
Chief Justice, died at Oxford. On October 28th, 1645, more effective
operations were taken against Corfe Castle. Colonel Bingham, Governor
of Poole, had two regiments placed at his disposal for this purpose,
and on December 16th further reinforcements were sent by General
Fairfax.
During the whole course of the Civil War no expedition more gallant had
occurred than that of January 29th by a young officer named Cromwell:
whether this young Cromwell was related to the Protector is uncertain.
Hearing of the distressed condition of a widowed lady shut up with her
daughters in a closely-besieged castle, Cromwell was resolved to make
an effort for their relief. Accompanied by a troop numbering 120 men,
who shared the gallantry of their commander, he set out, probably from
Oxford, and, marching with a degree of rapidity which anticipated all
intelligence of his design, he passed through the quarters of Colonel
Cooke undiscovered, and came to Wareham.
Colonel Butler, the Governor of Wareham, aware that no troops were
expected, took the alarm, barricaded his lodgings, firing from thence
upon his assailant; but the royalist troop had no time to bestow
on this attack. They therefore set fire to a house in the vicinity
which stood near the powder magazine, and the Governor, thoroughly
frightened, consented to yield himself a prisoner. He was carried,
together with others, mounted behind some of the triumphant troopers,
to the foot of Corfe Castle.
Here a large rebel force was drawn up to oppose their further progress;
but the brave bearing of this little troop, together with the shouts of
welcome from the besieged on the walls, induced the besiegers to give
way. The gallant band, having accomplished their purpose, tendered
their services to the lady, and presented also for her acceptance the
prisoners they had so bravely captured.
The object of this chivalrous action was probably an offer of escape to
the ladies from the Castle, which, however, was not accepted. And on
their return Colonel Cromwell, with some of his troopers, were taken
prisoners.
The course of events now shifted rapidly, and though Lady Bankes was
still as intrepid as at first, it was not so with all who were around
her; for the captive Governor of Wareham, Colonel Butler, prevailed
on Colonel Laurence (hitherto so trustworthy) not only to connive at,
but to accompany him in his flight. And there was within the walls
another traitor, Lieutenant-Colonel Pitman, whose conduct was still
more base, his treachery far more fatal in its consequences. This
officer in the Castle garrison, being weary of the King’s service, let
the enemy know that if he might have a protection he would deliver
Corfe Castle to the Parliament. This treacherous offer was accepted,
and a protection order was sent to him from London. On this, Pitman
proposed to Colonel Anketil, the Governor of the Castle, to fetch one
hundred men out of Somerset to add to the Corfe Castle garrison. This
proposal being approved, he formed a design with the rebel, Colonel
Bingham, who commanded the siege, that under this pretence he should
convey more than one hundred men into the Castle, and as soon as they
were entered the besiegers should make an attack. On this a hundred men
were drawn out of Weymouth garrison and marched to Lulworth Castle,
where they were joined by some thirty or forty more soldiers. Pitman
led them in the night to the port agreed upon for their entrance, where
Colonel Anketil was ready to receive them. Some of these men already
knew every part of the interior of the Castle; but when fifty of these
new soldiers had entered, Colonel Anketil, seeing more in the rear,
ordered the Sally Port to be closed, saying that there were as many as
he could dispose of. The crafty Pitman expostulated on his causing him
to bring these men so far and then to expose them to the cold and to
the enemy.
Those of the fresh soldiers who entered took possession of the King’s
and Queen’s towers and the two platforms, awaiting the time when
the besiegers would make an assault, it being then two hours after
midnight. The besieged, as soon as the fraud was discovered, fired and
threw down great stones upon these intruders, who, however, maintained
their posts. There were, in fact, only six men of the garrison in
the upper part of the Castle, for that was considered impregnable.
The remainder of the defending force was placed in the lower ward,
which had hitherto been the post of danger. The besieging forces, as
soon as they saw their friends on the towers and platforms, began to
advance; and it was then clear to the inmates of the Castle that they
had been most villainously betrayed. A parley was demanded, and an
agreement made that all lives should be spared, and those who belonged
to the town of Corfe should return quietly to their houses; and the
circumstance of a Parliamentary officer being there with others of
that party, prisoners in the Castle, induced the besiegers to offer
conditions, which were accepted. But the truce was broken almost at
once, for two of the besiegers, anxious for spoil, came over the wall
by means of a ladder, whereupon some of the Castle garrison fired on
them, and the risk of a free fight and general slaughter throughout the
Castle now began.
Colonel Bingham was a descendant of a family long known and highly
respected in the county of Dorset, and naturally could not but admire
the courage of the lady who was his foe, and he at once set about
preserving the lives of the 140 persons then within the Castle.
This last siege is said, in Sprigg’s _Table of Battles and Sieges_,
to have lasted forty-eight days, during which eleven men were slain
and five cannons taken. The exact date of the fall of Corfe Castle
is uncertain, but it was probably in the last week of the month of
February, 1646. Thus, after a resistance of nearly three years’
duration, brave Lady Bankes was dispossessed of the fortress, which she
continued to defend so long as a chance remained for the preservation
of the Crown.