Chapter XVIII · THE DUKE OF NORFOLK’S MISSION

While these things were happening in the north, the Duke of Norfolk, so urgently needed and so long expected, was living quietly at Kenninghall in his own county. His orders directed him to go northwards at Candlemas, and he had no intention of stirring before that time. On 6 January 1536–7 he wrote to Cromwell; as the quarter sessions were about to be held at Norwich, he suggested that the commissioners of the subsidy and of the suppression who attended them should be ordered to proceed with their work, which had been suspended during the rebellion. The religious living in the houses which ought to be suppressed were a great cost to the King, and if they were allowed to remain and the subsidy was not levied, it “might put folly into the light northern heads.”^[504]

On 16 January Norfolk was with the King at Greenwich, receiving instructions for his mission to the north. Considering that the news of Hallam’s attempt had not yet reached the King, these instructions were severe, and showed little prospect that the King would fulfil the promises which he had made to Robert Aske a few days before. Norfolk was to go to the counties recently disturbed, accompanied by a council, and there to take such steps as the King thought necessary for their final settlement. His first stopping-place was at Doncaster, where the most trustworthy of the northern gentlemen would meet him. He was to administer to them the King’s oath, and then to summon the gentlemen of the district, and, when they had taken the oath, the commons. Everyone must take the oath in turn, and this procedure must be followed at every place where the Duke halted.

After Doncaster the Duke would proceed to Pontefract, and, when the West Riding had taken the oath, to York, where he was to be met by the remaining leaders of the Pilgrimage and all other gentlemen of importance. Thence he would travel through all the 100country that had risen, administering the oath and enlarging upon the King’s wonderful clemency and goodness to his disobedient subjects. He was to reproach the justices of the peace with their lack of vigilance, and to let them see that they were blamed for the disturbances. Any loyal subjects suing for restitution of goods taken during the period covered by the pardon were to be put off with fair answers, and asked to wait until the coming of the King; neither they nor the present holders of the goods must be driven to despair.

The Duke was to make every effort to search out the beginners of the insurrections, the devisers of the articles, and the real reasons of the outbreak. Any man who refused to take the oath must be executed if Norfolk dared to proceed to extremes. If the attitude of the people forbade severity, “he shall pretend to make light of such a fool and proceed to swearing the rest till a better opportunity.”

When the whole country was sworn, the next step was to turn out the monks, nuns, and canons who still occupied suppressed houses, and to put the farmers in possession. As the Duke himself had promised to make suit to the King that they might remain till the next parliament, he was to explain to the people “how far they vary from true religious men, yea, from true subjects.”

Norfolk must see that the King’s rents were collected and order other men’s tenants to pay their landlords; but he must also inquire into the matter of enclosures and fines, hear complaints about them, and mediate between gentlemen and tenants, in order that they “may live together as they be joined in one body politic.” This clause in the instructions had a double object; “the King’s instructions to Norfolk, under their fair show of conciliatory words, by enjoining the reception of complaints against enclosures, were deftly intended to widen the breach between the confederated classes of the north.”^[505]

As it was through ignorance that the north had been seduced into horrible treason, the King intended “to send thither certain grave, discreet and learned personages to teach and preach the truth” and the Duke must recommend them to the people.

Finally Norfolk was to sit on cases of common justice, and all offenders since the pardon were to be sought out and executed, “if it may be done without danger, especially if they have been ringleaders.” If there was danger, he must simply “look through his fingers at their offences, and free them to continue till the King’s Majesty’s arrival in those parts,” taking care that they did not fly the country^[506].

101The government seems to have felt the difficulty of finding a form of words suitable for the oath which was to alter all the feelings, aims and ideals of the Pilgrims, to make them forget their vow to God and the Commonwealth, and to induce them to concentrate their allegiance upon the King. The form must be as sweeping as the King dared to make it, and yet must not go too far. The drafts of the oath remain^[507], and the last, which is the simplest, was probably the one used. “You shall swear to be true liegeman to the King our sovereign lord, Henry VIII King of England and of France, etc,”^[508] it began, sliding over the obnoxious title of Supreme Head of the Church, which is inserted in another draft. Those who took the oath swore to do no treason, murder or felony, but to discover the doers of such crimes; to renounce the oaths taken during the insurrection, and in future to resist such movements; to be obedient to the King, his lieutenant, and all his laws. Several irritating items in the other drafts are omitted in this, such as expressions of contrition and desire of forgiveness for the rising, and a declaration of willingness to assist the commissioners in the suppression of the abbeys. With these drafts for the oath is a set of instructions for its administration. Every man was required to “confess and knowledge” his traitorous demeanour and submit himself to the King’s mercy: he was then to declare the names of the rebel leaders, and to give up his arms in token of complete submission; finally he was to take the King’s oath and to hold all others vain^[509]. It is, however, practically certain that these instructions were not carried out, as the Duke of Norfolk did not disarm the north, and could not have done so without the greatest danger.

On 16 January 1536–7 the King sent out letters to various gentlemen ordering them to be in readiness to attend the Duke on his northern progress^[510]. One was addressed to Sir Robert Constable, who was to meet Norfolk in York; another to Lord Darcy, who was to await him at Pontefract^[511]. Norfolk summoned Sir William Fairfax and Sir Oswald Wolsthrope, who were trusted by the government, to meet him at Doncaster on Candlemas Eve (1 February) with all their servants, unharnessed^[512].

After his visit to court, Norfolk returned to Kenninghall to prepare for his journey at leisure. He was there when the news of Bigod’s rebellion reached him. All accounts agreed in attributing the new 102outbreak to his long delay^[513], but the Duke was not disturbed on that account; he had his orders and he was obeying them. It is probable that he was expecting some such news.

On 28 January old Sir Marmaduke Constable’s eldest son was with him, bringing from the north a full account of all that had taken place. He showed Norfolk a copy of the manifesto sent out by his uncle Sir Robert Constable and Aske to stay the parts about Beverley. “He has written more than I can perform,” said Norfolk in a letter to Cromwell, “and his large sayings might be for a scant good purpose about the coronation and parliament, etc.” Yet they were given on the authority of the King’s own words. Norfolk congratulated Cromwell on the news. If the country were settled before he reached the north he would grudge no man the praise; if something were left to be done he would show his goodwill. “This young man [Constable’s nephew] cannot speak too much good of my lord Darcy and his uncle; sickness now hath kept them both at home, which could not do so at the first business at Doncaster.”^[514] Norfolk was in bad health, “but desire to serve my master and anger mine enemies will, I trust, make me shortly strong and lusty.”^[515] By way of precaution he sent to Cromwell his will and the details of a whole string of suits which he hoped Cromwell would forward in his absence. Fortunately we have no concern with the family affairs of the wicked old Duke. A proverb which he quoted, “God shall send a shrewd cow short horns,” unhappily was not true in his own case^[516].

On 30 January Norfolk was in Lincoln on his way to Doncaster. Here he met messengers with letters for the King from Hull, which he opened to see if they contained anything urgent; but all was going well. Several canons of Watton and others implicated in Hallam’s rebellion had been captured. Norfolk wrote to ask the King if the prisoners should be executed in York, and how many the King desired him to “justify.” He had also received letters from the Bishop of Durham, Lord Scrope, and the Earl of Cumberland. Norfolk thought that the timid bishop was over-anxious about the state of the country, but to satisfy him he promised to go to Newcastle-upon-Tyne after he had settled Yorkshire^[517]. Cumberland and Scrope both enclosed seditious bills, and the latter reported from Bolton that the country was much stirred by such 103writings, which “misdeedy” persons sent about, though the honest men were content to wait for the parliament^[518].

Norfolk was puzzled by learning on the road that Sir Anthony Browne had just ridden northwards on a mission from the King. The Duke had been told nothing of this, and as he was the King’s Lieutenant in the north, he marvelled that the matter had not been laid before him. The Privy Council were writing to him on the subject that same day, 30 January^[519]. The office of Warden of the Marches was vacant, owing to the ill-health of the Earl of Northumberland. The King had proposed to bestow it on the Earl of Westmorland, but the Earl was exceedingly anxious to escape from such a difficult and dangerous post. Henry had no intention of increasing the Earl of Cumberland’s power, for it was already too great for the peace of his neighbours. Therefore he determined to adopt some old advice of Norfolk’s, and, keeping the office of warden in his own hands, to appoint meaner men as his deputies. He had chosen Sir William Evers and Sir John Widderington; Sir Anthony Browne had been sent down post to receive their oaths and give them their instructions. A later chapter will be devoted to the government of the Borders and relations with Scotland^[520], but Sir Anthony Browne’s mission is mentioned here in order to emphasise the double nature of Norfolk’s task. The King had entrusted to him the subjection of the rebellious counties and the punishment of the men with whom he was supposed to sympathise. This is the part of his duty which concerns us at present. The King did not trust to Norfolk alone the establishment of order on the Marches. He had not even explained to him the new arrangements before the Duke set out, but none the less Henry expected Norfolk to help the matter forward. He could not do without his lieutenant, although he did not trust him. Norfolk knew how extremely dangerous this position was. The King asked his advice, and did not take it; the King needed his presence on the Borders for the furtherance of his plans, but he did not confide those plans to the Duke. In Yorkshire Norfolk knew what was expected of him and intended to do it; in Northumberland he was to do nothing without explicit orders.

Norfolk reached Doncaster punctually on Candlemas Eve, 1 February 1536–7. He was met there by the gentlemen whom he could best trust with their servants. Among those who welcomed him were Sir Marmaduke Constable the younger, Sir Robert’s son, 104and William Babthorpe, Aske’s kinsman. They brought a message to the Duke from Aske, who wished to know if Norfolk desired his presence. Babthorpe wrote that night to Aske that the Duke expected to meet him in York, but not sooner. He was not to be disheartened if the Duke showed him “no very friendly countenance.” It would be for certain reasons which would be opened to him in secret. Old Sir Marmaduke Constable, who had lately been at court, was assured that Aske possessed Norfolk’s favour and that the King and Council esteemed his services^[521].

Aske was only too anxious to believe such assurances. He had spoken to the King, and had been convinced of his graciousness and good faith. He had returned to the north to find the whole country equally convinced that they had been beguiled. He was not unmoved by this; his letters to the King himself show that he was sometimes beset by doubts, but the belief of a man like Aske in one who has secured his loyalty and trust is very hard to shake. When Aske used every means to quiet the agitation, when he declared Bigod’s attempt disloyal not only to the King but to the Pilgrims’ cause, he was pledging his honour to his followers that the King was true. On that he staked everything, including his life. He clung to his belief and went on hoping against hope until the very end. Yet there was no lack of warning; the matter was plain to all who could look on unconcerned. For example, Ralph Sadler had carried special orders by word of mouth to Sir Thomas Clifford, the captain of Berwick, concerning the Percys. Clifford was first to send them letters from the King which summoned them to his presence; if they did not immediately obey he was to arrest them and send them by sea from Berwick to Grimsby, to avoid the danger of rescue if they passed through the northern shires as prisoners^[522].

Sir Thomas Clifford met Sadler at Newcastle-upon-Tyne on 28 January, and was more worried than surprised by these secret instructions. The matter had leaked out, in spite of precautions, and Sir Thomas Hilton had told him a week before that he would be commanded to arrest the Percys. The rumour was bruited abroad in the country, and Clifford knew that if it came to the ears of those most nearly concerned he would be in danger of his life. As he heard that the Percys were preparing to go to meet Norfolk at Doncaster, he sent them the King’s letters. They had already set out before the letters arrived, and Clifford was spared further 105embarrassment, and was able to declare that he would have risked everything to carry out the King’s commands. The royal letters reached the Percys at Doncaster^[523], and with the recklessness of their race Sir Thomas and Sir Ingram obeyed the summons to London. They scarcely needed the Duke’s wily encouragement, though he provided them with a letter recommending them to the Council, which, as he was careful to explain in another despatch, was not to be taken seriously^[524]. Before the week was out the two brothers were in the Tower. The other leaders of the Pilgrimage did not take alarm. The Percys had behaved with utter lawlessness, and many of their actions could not be connected with forwarding the Pilgrims’ demands; moreover the King had special private reasons for wishing them out of the way. Thus, no doubt, Aske and Darcy explained the omen.

Norfolk found the north in no very settled condition when he reached Doncaster. Even in the country round him there was much sedition. He sent Cromwell the rhyming prophecy about “a crumb well set in a man’s throat.”^[525] Bills were posted on the church doors, but they were all of the type described above which called upon the commons to stick together and choose their own leaders, as the gentlemen had betrayed them. The King’s policy was a complete success; he had broken up the alliance of rich and poor which had brought him into danger. Norfolk found that he could trust almost all the gentlemen and rich yeomen “which without doubt is most principally for their own safeguards, being in the greatest fear of the people that ever I saw.”^[526] They forgot all grievances in anxiety for their property, and welcomed Norfolk as a saviour from general anarchy. The Duke was satisfied that all would go well. News of abortive risings came from Cleveland, Sheriffhutton, and Middleham, but in each case the gentlemen had dispersed the rebels without difficulty^[527]. The only serious news was from the north and west. Northumberland was a prey to the Border thieves, but they were a separate problem. Cumberland and Westmorland were in commotion; the tithe barns were seized and enclosures were pulled down. A great muster had been ordered at Richmond by the secret leaders of the commons.

Every sort of rumour agitated the country. At Cockermouth the people said that the Duke of Norfolk would never be sent to them, 106for he was in disgrace with the King^[528]. In Cleveland it was rumoured that he “came down with a great army and power to do execution, to hang and draw from Doncaster to Berwick ... notwithstanding the King’s pardon.”^[529] Norfolk tried to inspire confidence by issuing a proclamation, as Lieutenant-General from Trent northwards, prohibiting all assemblies, ringing of alarm bells, lighting of beacons and setting up of bills on posts and church doors without the King’s authority; he set forth that Bigod and other traitors had falsely declared the King’s pardon void, assured all men, by the King’s express command, that the pardon held good, and offered £40 for the capture of Bigod and £20 each for that of Leache, of Horncastle, Morland of Louth Park, and the friar of St Robert’s of Knaresborough^[530]. He thought that this proclamation would prevent the threatened disturbances in Richmondshire^[531].

Very little can be discovered about the musters at Richmond. The depositions which remain are not so illuminating as they might be, since the government persisted, for its own reasons, in regarding Jervaux Abbey as the headquarters of the agitation. The monks played their part, but the real plotters were shadowy characters who haunted the boundaries of Yorkshire, moving from Richmond to Kirkby Stephen. Nicholas Musgrave and Thomas Tibbey were two of these leaders on the Westmorland side. Lobley, Servant and Hutton sent out the bills from Richmond^[532].

On Saturday 3 February the bills and letters which were constantly passing about the country took a more definite tone. These letters came from Richmond and were passed from bailiff to bailiff; they bade every parish send two representatives to meet at the Grey Friars’ at Richmond on Monday 5 February, to consult “for the common wealth,” and particularly to decide how they should treat with the Duke of Norfolk in the matter of tithes. Collins, the bailiff of Kendal, was very earnest in setting forward the matter in his part of the country, and sent on the summons to Beetham, Windermere, and other parts. The meeting was held, but Norfolk’s proclamation had reached Richmond, and the townsfolk refused to have anything to do with the men from other districts. The gentlemen had all gone to meet the Duke, and in consequence there was no one in authority. The leaders of the commons proved 107incompetent at the last. No conclusion was reached, and the assembly soon dispersed^[533].

There are more details about the rising at Jervaux. The Abbot had lost some sheep during the insurrection, and asked Edward Middleton, who had been one of the rebel leaders, to seek for them, “because he was a hunter.” About the middle of January he met Middleton in the abbey church and asked for news of the sheep. Middleton said that he had done his best, but he could not find them. “Ye have taken pains, although ye could do no good,” said the Abbot, and told his “storer” to give the man some drink money. The storer had no money, and the Abbot sent Middleton to the cellarer, or the quondam Abbot of Fountains who was staying in the house, to ask one of them to pay him^[534]. A servant led Middleton and Ninian Staveley, who was with him, to the quondam Abbot’s room, and delivered the Abbot’s message that the quondam was to give the men forty pence. William Thirsk the quondam abbot took out an angel noble and asked Middleton to change it. Staveley snatched it and said it was cracked. The quondam gave him another and bade him change that; but Staveley calmly put the two nobles in his purse, saying, “Ye churls monks, ye have too much and we have nothing, and neither of these thou gettest again.” “Ye shall not have my money so,” cried the quondam, “If ye be true men ye will not take my money away, and ye should have but forty pence of me.” Middleton interfered, whispering that Staveley was mad and that he would see the quondam’s money restored, and so they left him^[535]. According to Staveley the quondam Abbot offered them twenty nobles to restore him to Fountains if there was a new insurrection. This may be true or it may not. Staveley’s excuse for his violence was that two of the monks of Jervaux, Roger Hartlepool and John Stainton, had been urging both himself and Middleton to raise a company, fall upon the Duke of Norfolk, and slay him, for they said that if Norfolk were allowed to come peaceably “their abbey would be put down and they would go a-begging.” The stories about the two nobles and the thirty sheep point to the conclusion that Staveley and his friend were the men to entrust with such a desperate scheme, and that they probably knew all the bad characters in the Dales.

In January the Abbot of Jervaux had sent a servant to gather the Abbey’s rents in Lincolnshire; the man was also to tarry about Newark until the Duke came and bring back word as to how large a force he brought with him. The servant did not wait long enough to 108see the Duke’s train, but he returned with the news “that the Lincolnshire men were busily hanged, and their charter stood them in no stead,” and that Norfolk was coming to do the same in the north. This spread dismay in the country^[536]. Lord Latimer left his house at Snape and with Sir Christopher Danby set out for the court, which alarmed the commons, who were always ready to listen to the cry that the gentlemen were betraying them, and at the same time removed the men best able to keep order. The people were so angry that they were ready to plunder the houses of the absentees^[537].

When the news came that Norfolk had reached Doncaster, Staveley and his accomplices determined to take action. On Sunday 4 February they set up bills, provided by the two monks, on every church door in Richmondshire, commanding every man between the ages of 16 and 20 to be at Middleham Moor in harness on Tuesday next (6 February). On Monday the leaders quarrelled among themselves, and the whole matter would have fallen through, if the two monks had not come to Staveley’s bed at midnight, in harness with battle-axes in their hands, and called upon him to rise and go forward or else they would all be destroyed^[538]. Staveley sent to Middleton and they called together their friends and went to Jervaux Abbey about midday. They bade the Abbot come forth with all his brethren and go with them to the muster; but “the Abbot said and desired them to be contented to leave his brethren at home and to take his servants with them, and said further that he and all his brethren would come unto them next day. And then he gave the company such meat and drink as he had.” The muster at Middleham Moor was poorly attended. Staveley and his band, the Abbot’s servants, and a few of the Abbot’s tenants of Witton were the only companies mentioned as being present. The leaders stayed there two or three hours, but when news came of the failure of the meeting at Richmond on the day before they all went home^[539]. The Abbot of Jervaux fled next day to Lord Scrope at Bolton Castle; there is no proof that he knew of the plans of his monks. Middleton and Roger Hartlepool the monk fled to Scotland, thereby showing more prudence than the majority of the captains^[540].

On Sunday 4 February Norfolk was at Pontefract. In spite of the unruly state of the north-west he was in good spirits, and trusted soon to have it in more quietness. As long as the gentlemen were so thoroughly afraid of their own tenants there was no chance of serious 109rebellion^[541]. Lord Latimer had been appointed to meet Norfolk in York, “but he liked so ill his being at home” that he came to meet the Duke at Doncaster. Lord Conyers was in doubt as to whether his people would let him leave home at all. None of the gentlemen dared attempt to turn the religious out of the restored abbeys; Norfolk could hardly persuade them to pursue the leaders of the late commotions, not because they sympathised with them, but because they were afraid the people would attack them^[542].

All the country about Pontefract was in good order when Norfolk arrived^[543]. Darcy took some pride in this, but really it told against him. If he could keep his country quiet when he liked, why had he failed on the first rising? When Norfolk reached the castle, he found himself in the middle of a family quarrel. Lord Darcy had come up from Templehurst to meet him, and had joined issue with Sir George Darcy, whom he found in possession. Lord Darcy refused to share his authority with his son; he would be the sole keeper of the castle or not at all. Sir George had the King’s orders and would not give way unless the Duke commanded him to do so. In the end Norfolk decided in favour of Darcy, who undertook to lie in the castle himself and put the King to no expense; but Sir George was to be ready to come in with all his power at an hour’s warning. Norfolk trusted Sir George, who would serve the King against his father and all the world. “I pray God the father be as good in heart as the son, which by the proof only I shall believe.”^[544]

Norfolk went on to York, probably on Monday 5 February. Here he was met by almost all the gentlemen of Yorkshire, the very men who had held the council there as leaders of the Pilgrimage two months before. The oath was administered in the Duke’s presence to the head men of the city and of all the three Ridings; it was taken without the least dissent or opposition. The gentlemen were to carry back the oath to the districts which Norfolk did not intend to visit, but it was by no means certain that the business would be accomplished so quietly in those parts. He wrote to the King on 7 February from York, where he was to sit on the indictments of eighteen persons, spiritual and temporal, on Saturday 10 February; he thought that many would be found guilty and trusted shortly to have more^[545]. On Friday the 9th, in the midst of his session work, he found time to answer a letter from Cromwell. He was glad to receive Cromwell’s assurances of friendship, and begged that he might soon 110hear good news of his various suits and causes. In order to show that the friendship was not all on one side, he narrated how he had “caused one of the sheriff’s officers to be set in the pillory and for ever put out of office for speaking ill of Cromwell. If the matter would have served by law he should, on Tuesday next, have stretched a halter with others.”^[546]

On Saturday 10 February Sir Francis Bigod was taken by Sir John Lamplough and a party which Norfolk had sent out to capture him on information received from Sir Thomas Curwen^[547]. Bigod was seized in “a chapel in Cumberland” with two servants^[548], and was taken to Carlisle Castle to await Norfolk’s orders, as his captors did not dare to bring him through Westmorland. The circumstances of his pursuit and arrest are unknown, as they were reported to the King by word of mouth^[549].

On Monday 12 February nine prisoners were arraigned before Norfolk in York for treason. There was not yet enough evidence to convict the rest, who remained in prison. Of the nine who were condemned, one named Graystoke was “reprieved by desire of all the gentlemen.” Norfolk sent Cromwell a list of the others, with the places where they were to be executed. There were three religious, two canons of Warter who were hanged in chains in York, and the sub-prior of Watton, who suffered at Watton. Wyvell was hanged at Scarborough, and Fenton and Cante in York. A yeoman called Otterburn had been the leader of an obscure rising at Sheriffhutton some days before, and was hanged on Yersley Moor five miles from Sheriffhutton^[550]. Another man, not named on Norfolk’s list, seems to have been executed at the same time. He was one Stokton who had brought treasonable bills to Guisborough, “but would not say how he came by them when he was hanged.”^[551] Finally, as Staveley, Middleton and the other Richmond leaders were not yet caught, Anthony Peacock was hanged in chains on Richmond Moor as a warning to the district. He had been stirring the people about Barnard Castle^[552].

On Thursday 15 February Peacock was in Richmond waiting for his death. That night half-a-dozen boon companions met at John of Blade’s alehouse in the little village of Grinton in Swaledale. Among them was Harry Wycliff, Sir Ralph Bulmer’s servant and brother-in-law. While they were drinking he turned to the others and exclaimed, 111“Sirs, what mean ye? Is your hearts done? Let me have 200 men and I shall give the Duke of Norfolk an onset, and I shall either save Peacock’s life or have the Duke’s chain (meaning to have slain him) ... with many other such seditious words, meaning to make a new commotion.” No one was ready to aid him in such a desperate attempt, though the men of Swaledale were Sir Francis Bigod’s tenants and no doubt sympathised with the rebels. Peacock was hanged next morning and no hand was raised to save him^[553].

Norfolk intended to turn his attention next to the restored abbeys. He mentioned, in a letter to the Earl of Sussex, that the gentlemen did not dare to meddle with them. When Sussex showed the letter to the King, Henry was especially interested in this point. He said that the gentlemen had undertaken at Doncaster to restore his farmers to the abbeys; “he saw not but if the gentlemen had broken promise with him, he might much better break promise with them.” He left the matter vague, however, saying that if all went forward satisfactorily he would not “take any advantage thereof.”^[554]

Cromwell spurred Norfolk on by hinting that he was thought to be too warm a supporter of the old faith to deal sternly with the abbeys and “the traitors therein.” Norfolk indignantly repudiated the accusation; he was no “papist nor favourer of naughty religious persons.” In the north his feelings were now so well known that he had been warned not to eat or drink in monasteries^[555]. He was going to Leeds on Tuesday 20 February, thence to Sawley Abbey, and then to Ripon^[556]. As he would be very busy, he suggested that the ordinary justices of assize, whose arrival was almost due, should be joined in a commission with the Earls of Cumberland and Westmorland. He thought it very necessary to have someone to help him with the law work, for his health was bad, and it would be a pity if the “dreadful execution” begun at York were not carried out in other places. Norfolk was constantly expecting news of the arrest of more ringleaders. “As concerning the monks of Sawley and other abbeys I cannot yet speak of their offences but ere Sunday I doubt not to do so.” The leaders in Westmorland were Nicholas Musgrave and Thomas Tibbey, “whom I trust be taken by this time.”^[557]

These two men upset Norfolk’s plans. Ever since Christmas there had been trouble in Westmorland^[558]. On Twelfth Day, 6 January 1536–7, the deputy captain of Carlisle, Thomas Clifford the bastard, 112came to Kirkby Stephen to arrest Nicholas Musgrave. Musgrave was warned and with Thomas Tibbey he took refuge in the church steeple, so defensible a position that Clifford was obliged to withdraw without his prisoners, “which thing stirred the country greatly. And they sent abroad word to keep watches in every town.” The men of Kirkby Stephen plucked down all the enclosures in their parish, and sent orders to the surrounding parishes to follow their example^[559].

In Cumberland things were no better. The west parts “from Plumland to Muncaster is all on floughter,” wrote Sir Thomas Curwen^[560]. The chief reason for the agitation was the departure of so many gentlemen to court. The commons distrusted the King, who might have the gentlemen beheaded, and they distrusted the gentlemen, who might betray them to the King. When the gentlemen were away, the bailiffs and other officers found it impossible to keep order^[561]. As soon as he knew the state of affairs, Norfolk urged Cromwell to send home the Cumberland gentlemen. Sir Thomas Curwen told a story which showed the feelings of the commons. On Saturday 13 January a servant of Dr Legh came to Muncaster. The whole country rose and made him prisoner. He was carried to Egremont and thence to Cockermouth. A great crowd filled the market-place, crying, “Strike off his head!” and “Stick him!” He was searched for letters from the King, but all that were found on him were from his master about private matters. Nevertheless he would have been put to death; but young John Swinburn saved him, by advising the people to spare him for a week, during which inquiries should be made about his conduct. At the end of the week twenty-four men might try him in open market, and if it could be proved that he had carried letters from the King to the gentlemen, he might be put to death. The people agreed and sent through all the countryside to inquire if he had delivered letters. Whether he was brought to trial or not he must have escaped death, as nothing more is heard of him. On 18 January all the tithe barns on the south bank of the Derwent were plundered. Private feuds were pursued as vigorously as public grievances. Sir Thomas Curwen fled to Yorkshire because the commons had determined to take him and force him to take the oath or die. He went first to Sheriffhutton, then to Richmond and finally to York, meeting with many seditious bills on the way^[562].

113Norfolk sent orders to Carlisle for the apprehension of Musgrave and Tibbey^[563], and accordingly Thomas Clifford set out again for Kirkby Stephen in search of them with a troop of horse. His followers were mosstroopers from the waters of Esk and Line, “strong thieves of the westlands.” Musgrave and Tibbey fled to their old fastness in the steeple, and there defied their pursuers. The townsfolk took no part either for or against the rebels, but while Clifford and some of his men were debating how to take their quarry, the rest of the riders, following their inbred vocation, fell to plundering. This was more than flesh and blood could bear. The burgesses caught up their weapons and fell upon the spoilers, causing a timely diversion in favour of the men in the steeple. Scattered about the narrow streets of the town, the horsemen were at a disadvantage and soon showed that their prowess was not equal to their thievishness. Two of the townsmen were killed in the skirmish, but their enraged fellows drove the borderers from the town and followed up their retreat until they were forced to take refuge in Brougham Castle^[564].

The commons saw that they were committed to a new rebellion, although they had risen in defence of their property; indeed, a panic seems to have spread through the countryside that they would all be treated like the people of Kirkby Stephen. The two captains raised all the surrounding country and sent the following summons to the bailiff of Kendal, whom they knew to be on their side:

To the Constable of Mellynge

Be yt knowen unto you Welbelovyd bretheren in god this same xii day of februarii at morn was unbelapped on every syde with our enimys the Captayne of Carlylle and gentylmen of our Cuntrie of Westmerlonde and haithe destrowed and slayn many our bretheren and neghtbers. Wherfore we desyre you for ayde and helpe accordyng to your othes and as ye wyll have helpe of us if your cause requyre, as god forbede. This tuysday, We comande you every one to be at Kendall afore Eight of the clok or els we ar lykly to be destrowed.

Ever more gentyll brether unto your helpyng honds.

Captayn of Povertie.

[Note at the top of the sheet.] the like letter was sent to bethom by colyns which we sent in our letters to the kinges highnes from preston xxi march^[565].

William Collins, the bailiff of Kendal, had just returned from York, where he and other men from the town had met Norfolk^[566]. The whole country was stirring. Atkinson, Musgrave, Leache and Staveley were issuing such bills as the one given above, urging the 114people “that they should come and take their neighbours of Westmorland’s part.” Collins forwarded such letters to the surrounding townships.

Nothing is known of the musters and counsels of the Westmorland rebels. No gentlemen joined their ranks and very few priests. Their plans were simple. They had long before decided that the first step in case of a new rebellion was to seize Carlisle^[567]. A new motive for this was added by the fact that Bigod was a prisoner in the castle^[568]. The idea of a rescue always appeals to the human heart, and though a week before everyone had been cursing Bigod, now that he was captured and his fate assured there was a reaction in his favour. After all, everything that he had prophesied had come to pass. Here was the Duke “busily hanging” at York; here were loyal subjects robbed and slain in spite of the pardon.

The town of Carlisle was little prepared to stand a siege. The walls were out of repair and the garrison, though loyal, was not strong^[569]. The gentlemen coming in with their own servants, however, soon formed a force of five hundred or so within the city, and these troops were much superior in arms and equipment to the six thousand commons who presently assembled outside the walls. The rebels carried a cross as “their banner principal.”^[570] There was not a single gentleman amongst them, but though their leaders were poor yeomen, they did not lack determination, and were for the most part men already outlawed for their share in earlier risings. They were in hopes of capturing men of position, and it was said that one of the Percys would join them with a strong company. The rumours of taxes on christenings and burials were repeated among them and had perhaps only now reached these shires, the most remote in the kingdom^[571].

Norfolk was at Fountains when the news of the outbreak reached him on Wednesday 14 February. He wrote to the King, and set to work to raise a sufficient force to march against the rebels^[572]. He thought that he would be ready to set out on Saturday. On Thursday and Friday he was at Richmond, calling in to him all the nobles and gentlemen, but not daring to muster the commons. He was determined not to risk defeat, and laid several plans. He sent Sir Thomas Wharton, Sir Thomas Curwen and other Westmorland gentlemen 115back to their own estates to persuade their tenants, if possible, to take the King’s part. They were to be joined by two or three hundred light horse when Norfolk could spare the men, and were to burn and plunder the rebels’ houses, in the hope of making them abandon Carlisle and return to defend their own goods. Norfolk was not a little pleased at the prospect of fighting, even under the difficulties which burdened him. It was true that “this journey will pluck the bottom out of my purse,” but he trusted to bring the realm to better quiet. “Now shall appear whether for favour of these countrymen I forbare to fight with them at Doncaster.”^[573]

The success or failure of the new insurrection depended upon the part taken by Lord Dacre’s tenants. They had not yet risen for the commons; the Dacres, if they chose, could raise them for the King. Lord Dacre was in the south, but his uncle Sir Christopher Dacre was at Gilsland and wielded authority in his nephew’s absence. During the first insurrection the Dacres had remained loyal, but had not taken an active part. Their conduct had been most circumspect, for they lay under suspicion of treason. Their one offence had been an outbreak of the feud with the Cliffords and Musgraves. Was Sir Christopher’s loyalty strong enough to urge him to rescue his blood-foes now pent by the commons within Carlisle? The Earl of Cumberland had been ordered by the King to reconcile himself with Dacre, but these official hand-shakings went for nothing.

Norfolk showed his fears in a letter to Sir Christopher dated 15 February. The commons were about to assault Carlisle, and Norfolk conjured him by their old friendship, by his hopes of the King’s favour, by his care for his nephew’s safety to come to the relief of the city. “I will not instruct you what ye shall do, for ye know better than I. Spare for no reasonable wages, for I will pay all.” Let him but prove the Duke’s saying that “Sir Christopher Dacre is a true knight to his sovereign lord, an hardy knight, and a man of war. Pinch now no courtesy to shed blood of false traitors; and be ye busy on the one side, and ye may be sure the Duke of Norfolk will come on the other. Finally now, Sir Christopher, or never.” He signed it “your loving cousin if ye do well now, or else enemy for ever.”^[574] Two copies of this letter were sent by different hands to insure its safe delivery^[575].

On the same day, 15 February, the captains of Carlisle were also 116writing to Sir Christopher, but their letter was much calmer than Norfolk’s. Men in a desperate strait do not let their enemy know that he alone can save them. They commanded Dacre, in the King’s name, to join them at Carlisle Castle with all the men he could trust “in goodly haste.” If he could trust “the prickers of Gilsland,” he was to leave “the landserjeant” with them to attack the rebels, but if the prickers would not fight for the King, he must bring the landserjeant with him, and in any case he must come to Carlisle himself. This was signed by Sir John Lowther, Thomas Clifford, and John Barnfield^[576].

Unfortunately there is no account of the rising written from the commons’ point of view, nor, indeed, any full contemporary account at all. It is extremely difficult to form a coherent idea of the fighting round Carlisle from the scattered references which remain. The first move of the commons is clear. On Friday 16 February they mustered on Broadfield Moor to the number of about 6000 men, more or less effectively armed and mounted; thence they marched to Carlisle.

A wanderer came to the Abbey of Holm Cultram, and the Abbot asked him “What news?” “There was never such a gathering to the Broadfield as there was that day afore,” said the other. “Almighty God prosper them, for if they speed not, this abbey is lost,” said the Abbot. He sent his servants out in haste to summon his tenants to the Abbey church, and called the sub-prior to him, “and commanded him to cause the brethren to go daily with procession to speed the commons’ journey.” All the men of the lordship of Holm assembled in the church. The Abbot came to them and in the commons’ name bade Cuthbert Musgrave, his deputy officer, ride to Broadfield at the head of the tenants and join the host there. Musgrave refused to go, and argued the point with the Abbot. The tenants declared that they would not go unless the Abbot went with them. “And so they departed and none went.” The Abbot had enemies among his own brethren; he had compromised himself past hope before them, and he had not even helped the cause^[577].

On Saturday 17 February the commons prepared for the assault on Carlisle. It does not seem to have been such a vigorous attack as the word now implies. They approached within bow-shot, and showered arrows on the defenders who appeared on the city walls. This went on until they exhausted their supply of arrows, when they retired 117a little way to consider what to do next. Perhaps they had actually advanced to the attack when Sir Christopher Dacre unexpectedly appeared with five hundred border spearmen. The commons broke and turned to fly; whereupon Thomas Clifford issued from the castle and fell upon them, pressing on the pursuit for twelve miles or more. His mosstroopers were in no mood to spare the countryfolk who had beaten them so ignominiously on Monday^[578].

Several heroes on the King’s side distinguished themselves. One Roger Middlewood, who had been in the Kirkby Stephen skirmish and there was taken prisoner and stripped, “was the first man out of the town and slew one with his own hand.”^[579] But his honour was challenged by Robin Grame, a noted spy in Scotland, who, with only two other men, had been skirmishing with the commons before the assault, and “continued crying and shouting at them more than one hour before any man came to help him.” He was one of the last to turn back from the pursuit^[580]. Others of his name won no less praise. The Grahams of Esk, four brothers, “proper men,” had come in with half their grayne to serve in the castle without wages. “Whosoever take the thank, these were the first that break spear on the rebels after the assault.”^[581] They were foremost in the chase, captured seven score rebels and one of the captains, who seems to have been Thomas Tibbey himself. On the strength of these services they afterwards petitioned the King that they might hold their lands on the Esk rent-free, as their father did before them^[582].

On Saturday 17 February Norfolk was at Barnard Castle, where the gentlemen of his train had mustered their servants and head tenants—everyone, in short, whom they could trust. The Duke was overjoyed with the army which had assembled; there were about 4000 men, all well tried, harnessed, and mounted on “the best geldings he ever saw.” Their only anxiety was to atone for their former fault; such a band would be fearful for the King’s enemies to look upon. Hardly was this splendid little army in array, when news came from Carlisle which showed that it would not be needed. Before 9 o’clock in the morning messengers rode in who had seen the assault upon Carlisle and the rout of the commons. The chase was not ended when the messengers set out. Norfolk wrote to Henry: “Your Highness hath as much cause to thank God as ever had prince. Sir 118Christopher Dacre has shown himself a noble knight.” Seven or eight hundred prisoners were taken and the Duke was about to travel in all haste to Carlisle to see execution done^[583]. The rejoicings in London were great. Sir Christopher Dacre was the hero of the hour. It was said that he had slain 700 rebels or more and taken the rest prisoners, hanging them up on every bush. Cromwell declared at court that “if it lay in him he would make him an earl.”^[584]

This magnificent victory was won over the wretched, desperate commons of the poorest shire in the realm, fighting in defence of their property and lives. There is no means of knowing how many were killed, as the number reported in London, 700, seems to be too large. Wilfred Holme estimated that 300 prisoners were taken, and this seems a more likely figure than the 800 reported to Norfolk. The victory was certainly decisive; in defeat more than at any other time strong captains are needed; the leaderless commons of Westmorland and Cumberland were utterly broken.

Norfolk was in Carlisle on Monday 19 February. There were so many prisoners in the town that he found great difficulty in providing for their safe-keeping. He wrote that night to the Council to promise that if he might go his own way for a month he would order things to the King’s satisfaction. It would take some time, because he must himself be present at all the convictions and proceed by martial law, and there were many places to punish. Not a lord or gentleman in Cumberland and Westmorland could claim that his servants and tenants had not joined in the insurrection. “And, good Mr Comptroller^[585], provide you of a new bailiff at Embleton, for John Jackson your bailiff will be hanged Thursday or Friday at the furthest.”^[586]

Norfolk wrote to Cromwell with assurances that if he did not at once proceed to “sore justice” it was for no love he bore the traitors, but for reasons evident to anyone on the spot, but too long to be explained. Nevertheless more should suffer “than should do if I would believe so many were compelled to rebellion as is showed me.... I was never so well-beloved here as I shall be feared if I live another month.” No doubt Norfolk trusted by the last suggestion to please the King, who was always jealous of popular noblemen^[587].

Amidst all his business Norfolk found time to examine Sir Francis Bigod and “communed with him at great leisure.” Bigod said very little, and Norfolk sent up his first confession to Cromwell, promising 119that the prisoner should be strictly interrogated from time to time^[588]. Sir Francis’ examinations are not now extant, but there is a summary of his evidence^[589]. He said nothing against Darcy, Constable, and Aske, which must have vexed the authorities.

Norfolk issued proclamations which commanded all who had been in rebellion to come to Carlisle and submit themselves humbly to the King’s mercy. Accordingly on Tuesday 20 February the country-people began to straggle into the city in scattered, dejected bands. They had lost their horses, harness, and weapons in the chase; they were in instant fear of a traitor’s death for themselves, and of fire, plunder, and outrage for their homes and families. Norfolk imprisoned seventy of the “chief misdoers,” that is of the braver and more determined of them, and turned the rest away without even a promise of pardon; but he dared not proceed to execution until all the country had submitted. He sent orders to the Earl of Derby and Lord Mounteagle in Lancashire to apprehend all who might flee in that direction; in Durham the Earl of Westmorland had made thirteen prisoners, not fugitives, but men who favoured the rebels; thus there was no encouragement to try to escape eastward^[590].

Norfolk’s strategy was successful. Every day more and more of the “poor caitiffs” came in from all districts of Westmorland and Cumberland, even Cockermouth, the wildest part of all. They were contrite enough to satisfy any tyrant, “and if sufficient number of ropes might have been found would have come with the same about their necks.” Seventy-four out of six thousand who submitted were selected for trial. A Cumberland jury had not then attained the bad name which it earned long afterwards, and Norfolk, though a master of the art of choosing juries, dared not trust one with the work in hand, lest “many a great offender” were acquitted. He appointed Sir Ralph Ellerker as marshal and Robert Bowes King’s attorney to prosecute. This must have been a sufficient humiliation for the Pilgrims’ ambassadors to the King.

All the prisoners were condemned to die by law martial, the King’s banner being displayed. Not the fifth part would have been convicted by a jury. Some protested that they had been dragged into rebellion against their will. The most part had only one plea, saying, “I came out for fear of my life, and I came forth for fear of loss of all my goods, and I came forth for fear of burning of my house and destroying of my wife and children.”^[591] They had not, 120in fact, turned against the law, they had risen to defend all that the law should have defended for them from Clifford’s police, the thieves of the Black Lands^[592]. “A small excuse will be well believed here, where much affection and pity of neighbours doth reign. And, sir, though the number be nothing so great as their deserts did require to have suffered, yet I think the like number hath not been heard of put to execution at one time.” Thus Norfolk wrote to the King; his chief anxiety was lest it should be thought that he had not put a sufficient number to death. He assured his master that every man who had taken a forward part in the rising was to suffer. He had done his best, helped by Sir Christopher Dacre, Sir Thomas Wharton, Sir Thomas Curwen, Sir John Lamplough and the other gentlemen, to try out sufficient matter against more of the prisoners; little as was needed, he had failed, though he still hoped to swell his numbers with some who had fled or were in hiding^[593].

No time was lost over the executions, as Norfolk was in haste to be in Northumberland, where Tynedale and Reedsdale were giving trouble. The rebels were hanged in their own villages, “in trees in their gardens to record for memorial” the end of the rebellion^[594]. Twelve were hanged in chains in Carlisle for the assault on the city, eleven at Appleby, eight at Penrith, five at Cockermouth and Kirkby Stephen, and so on; scarcely a moorland parish but could show one or two such memorials. Some were hanged in ropes, for iron was “marvellous scarce,” and the chain-makers of Carlisle were unable to meet the demand. The victims were all poor men, farm hands from the fields and artisans of the little towns; probably the bailiff of Embleton was the highest man among them. Only one priest suffered with them, a chaplain of Penrith. The government’s conviction that the clergy were at the bottom of the new rising was mistaken; Norfolk, with the best will in the world, could only implicate one priest, but he made the vicar of Brough-under-Stainmore prisoner, although he had done nothing unlawful since the pardon, except that he had prayed for the Pope. Norfolk wished to know the King’s pleasure as to whether he must suffer or not^[595].

Later times have seen assizes more bloody than Norfolk’s in Carlisle—Sussex’ in York after the Rising of the North—Jeffreys’ in the west country after Monmouth’s rebellion. The horror of the Carlisle assizes lies less in their cruelty than in their injustice. Those 121who take up arms for a political cause must look to be punished for political reasons, but what principle can condemn men miserably poor for defending the little they have? The judges knew well that they were doing an indefensible act, and they spared the people as far as they dared. This is the final indictment of Henry’s government, that his greatest nobleman hanged men whom he knew to be guilty only of having turned against intolerable oppression. Norfolk wrote to Cromwell: “What with the spoiling of them now and the gressing of them so marvellously sore in time past and with increasing of lords’ rents by enclosing, and for lack of the persons of such as shall suffer, this border is sore weaked and especially Westmorland; the more pity they should so deserve, and also that they have been so sore handled in times past, which, as I and all other here think, was the only cause of the rebellion.”^[596] Perhaps Norfolk told his conscience (if it ever troubled him) that another man would have made more sure of the King’s favour by greater severity.

When the news of the rebels’ defeat reached the King, he sent orders for the harshest measures to be enforced. His instructions have been quoted so often that a summary of them is sufficient here. First the King thanked all who had served him, especially Norfolk and Sir Christopher Dacre; “you shall have good cause to rejoice of your doing in that behalf.” He heartily approved of Norfolk’s declaration of martial law, and his banner was not to be closed until the country was in such fear as would insure better behaviour.

Bigod, the Friar of Knaresborough, Leache, “the vicar of Penrith,” Chancellor Towneley and Pickering of Bridlington or as many of them as were in Norfolk’s hands, were to be sent to the King. The lands and goods of these and any other traitors who owned such were to be seized, and the King would consider the question of rewarding faithful subjects with them.

Finally Norfolk was to proceed to Sawley, Hexham, Newminster, Lanercost, St Agatha’s at Richmond, and such other monasteries as had “made any manner of resistance,” and to cause the monks or canons found faulty “to be tied up, without further delay or ceremony, to the terrible example of others; wherein we think you shall do us high service.”^[597] This is one of the most famous commands King Henry ever gave, and nobody knows whether it was obeyed. This ignorance is due to the fact that from 24 February to 5 March there is a blank in Norfolk’s correspondence with the King. The 122Duke intended to ride from Carlisle to Hexham, there to suppress the Abbey, take order for Tynedale and Reedsdale, hear any cases of sedition in Northumberland, and take the oaths of the gentlemen. From Hexham he meant to go to Durham and thence to York, “sitting in execution” at both cities^[598].

His own account of this expedition is lost. He did not go to Newminster in Northumberland, for it was not suppressed until August 1537, when all the monks received pensions^[599]. It is not known why the King named it as a centre of sedition. Nothing is known about the fate of Lanercost Priory and its inmates, nor about that of St Agatha’s at Richmond. Sawley was suppressed by Norfolk’s orders, though not by the Duke in person, and the Abbot and some of the monks were executed^[600]. Norfolk went to Hexham, but in his next letters, from Newcastle-upon-Tyne, there is no account of what he did there. A letter to Cromwell about the suppression of Hexham Priory exists, however, and as there is no mention in it of the “tying up” of any monks, it is probable that Henry’s orders arrived too late, that Norfolk had already closed the King’s banner in token that martial law was ended, and that he therefore had a sufficient excuse for sparing the canons.

A fragment of Norfolk’s reply to the King’s famous letter has been preserved by a Cumberland historian, although the original is lost. No doubt if it still existed the problem of the monks’ fate would be solved, for if martial law was no longer in force Norfolk would have no power of summary execution. The remains of the letter are as follows:

“Aglionby, I doubt not, or now hath shewed you highness what was done at Carlisle. And though none were quartered because I knew not your pleasure therein before: yet all the threescore and fourteen be hanged in chains or ropes upon gallows or trees, in all such towns as they did dwell in. And whereas your Majesty would have sent the vicar of Penrith to you; it is not of Penrith, but of Brough that your grace doth mean, for there is none such; for whom I have sent to my lord of Cumberland, for I left him in his keeping. And also I have for Doctor Towneley, and doubt not within three days to have them both with me, and so shall send them up.”^[601]

In order to conclude the matter of the rebellion in Cumberland, it is necessary to look forward for some weeks. Sir Thomas Curwen, the sheriff of Cumberland, received anonymous letters accusing the Abbot 123of Holm Cultram of treason. With Sir Thomas Wharton and others he paid a secret visit to the Abbey on 22 May 1537, collected enough evidence to hang the Abbot, and forwarded it to Norfolk. As usual the Abbot’s fate is uncertain^[602].

The Cumberland magistrates were no doubt trying to regain Norfolk’s favour by their zeal in the case of the Abbot, because they had incurred his displeasure in another matter. Two months after the Duke’s session in Carlisle, he heard that the bodies of all the rebels who were executed had been cut down and buried. He rebuked the magistrates with “quick messages,” and ordered them to search out the ill-doers. They sent him nine or ten confessions in reply, but he did not consider these nearly enough. “It is a small number concerning seventy-four that hath been taken down, wherein I think your Majesty hath not been well served.” Norfolk asked the King on 8 May how these offenders were to be punished; they were all women—the widows, mothers and daughters of the dead men. Of all the records these brief confessions are the most heart-breaking and can least bear description. The widows and their neighbours helped each other. Seven or eight women together would wind the corpse and bury it in the nearest churchyard, secretly, at nightfall or daybreak. Sometimes they were turned from their purpose by the frightened priest, and then the husband’s body must be buried by a dyke-side out of sanctified ground, or else brought again more secretly than ever and laid in the churchyard under cover of night. All was done by women, save in two cases when the brother and cousin of two of the dead men were said to have died from the “corruption” of the bodies they had cut down^[603]. The Earl of Cumberland was blamed by Norfolk for the loss of the bodies, and it must be counted to the Earl’s credit that he was ashamed to look too closely into so pitiful a story. Norfolk wrote to Cromwell:

“I do perceive by your letter that ye would know whether such persons as were put to execution in Westmorland and Cumberland were taken down and buried by my commandment or not: undoubtedly, my good lord, if I had consented thereunto, I would I had hanged by them; but on my troth, it is 8 or 9 days past sith I heard first thereof, and then was here with me a servant of my lord of Cumberland’s called Swalowfield dwelling about Penrith, by whom I sent such a quick message to my said lord, because he hath the rule in Cumberland as warden, and is sheriff of Westmorland and hath neither advertised me thereof, nor hath not made search who hath so highly offended his Majesty, 124and also commanding him to search for the same with all diligence, that I doubt not it shall evidently appear it was done against my will.”^[604]

The Duke was anxious to shift the blame on to someone else’s shoulders, as the King was very angry at this defiance of his authority. He remarked characteristically that he did not believe it “had come of women’s heads only,” although the depositions do not mention the names of any living men concerned in it. On 22 May Cromwell insinuated that Norfolk must have countenanced the offenders, and sent most positive orders that somebody must be punished, but the fate of the women is unknown^[605].

To return to the main course of our narrative, Norfolk was at Hexham on Monday 26 February. There he met Sir Reynold Carnaby, the farmer of the Priory, and put him in possession. The canons were turned out “with very good exhortation to the inhabitants” of Hexham uttered by Norfolk. With the Duke and his train in their midst they were “very tractable and sorry for what they had done amiss.” They professed themselves ready to obey Carnaby “as their officer,” when they saw Cromwell’s orders to that effect, though without these he was likely to have been “discouraged.” Norfolk asked him if the canons had done anything contrary to their allegiance since the pardon. Carnaby answered, “No, otherwise I would have been an untrue man to conceal it.”^[606] Sir Reynold was already held in evil report among his neighbours, and if he had informed against the canons his life would not have been safe. The people of the neighbourhood loved their Priory, and to this day Carnaby is spoken of with hatred in the countryside.

From Hexham Norfolk went to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, where he stayed for some time, chiefly engaged in his second task of bringing the Borders into comparative peace^[607]. He visited Prudhoe Castle, Sir Thomas Percy’s home, and gave it into the keeping of the Percys’ deadly foe Sir Reynold Carnaby; but he first had an inventory made of the goods in the castle, and redelivered them to Lady Percy by bill indented. He seems to have been touched by the desolation of Lady Percy, “a good woman” who obeyed him in all things. She gave him the Abbot of Sawley’s supplication, which seemed to the casual reader so innocent but proved in the end evidence sufficient to take five men’s lives. Lady Percy sent it to Norfolk, no doubt in obedience to a demand for papers; if she had read it she could 125scarcely have guessed that it was worth her husband’s head. Norfolk thought it would “touch the Abbot very sore” but does not seem to have considered it compromising to Percy. Lady Percy was setting out for London, to be near Sir Thomas, who was in the Tower. She herself carried Norfolk’s letters^[608].

The Earl of Northumberland was preparing to surrender his estates into the King’s hands. He was stricken by his last illness. To Norfolk’s great indignation he had sent down servants to sell the woods on his lands in Yorkshire, probably in a last attempt to raise money to satisfy some of his creditors. “As good to pull down the houses as destroy the woods,”^[609] wrote the Duke, and sent peremptory orders to Topcliff that nothing of the sort was to be attempted^[610].

On 3 March the Privy Council sent Norfolk special orders concerning Sir Robert Constable. The King had despatched letters which bade him repair to court; the messenger found him at Flamborough and “he made no satisfactory answer to the letters.” Norfolk was ordered to send word to Sir Ralph Ellerker at Hull and Sir Ralph Evers at Scarborough to watch the ports so that Sir Robert might not escape by sea; at the same time the Duke was to advise him to obey the King, and if he did not at once address himself to the journey, he must be sent up by a serjeant-at-arms^[611]. Norfolk did not think that Sir Robert was likely to fly, though if he intended to do so, he could take ship from Flamborough, which was his own town, without anyone being the wiser. Constable seems to have gone up on receiving Norfolk’s letters, as nothing is ever said about his arrest, and it was not likely to pass off quietly in the midst of his own country. The King also desired that Dr Pickering should be sent up, and Norfolk promised to arrest him at once^[612].

After suppressing the lesser monasteries within his commission Norfolk had about three hundred religious persons on his hands wanting capacities, which he had no power to give; neither had he a commission for levying the subsidy. These were mere hitches, however, and he was soon to find himself face to face with a serious difficulty^[613]. On Thursday 8 March he rode to the city of Durham, and next day sat on the indictments of about twenty offenders; but before the beginning of the session he discovered that the Bishopric of Durham was not included in his commission. All the country had come in, everything was ready for the trial, and Norfolk had no legal 126power to proceed with it. He decided, with the advice of his council, to keep secret his lack of authority, and accordingly the jury was charged and the indictments were found^[614]. Thirteen offenders, including the Priory porter and two of the Priory cooks^[615], would have been condemned next day in the ordinary course of justice, but Norfolk graciously respited them until after Low Sunday [7 April 1537], as he was too busy to wait in Durham for an answer to the letters which he despatched to the King and Cromwell.

In these letters Norfolk humbly asked pardon for not having perused his commission more carefully; in future he would have such documents read by counsel. He was about to return to Newcastle-upon-Tyne for a brief visit devoted to Border affairs, and after that he proposed to ride to York by way of Beverley and Hull, taking with him from those towns the offenders whom Ellerker had admitted to bail after Bigod’s rising^[616]. Norfolk was very anxious to know how many the King wished him to arraign; his own inclination was to be sparing of executions. “Folks think the last justice at Carlisle great, and if more than twenty suffer at Durham and York it will be talked about.”^[617]

The King received these letters on 17 March; in his reply he thanked Norfolk for his proceedings, sent him a complete commission, and assured him that he did not consider him to blame for the omission in the last one. The King particularly desired the conviction of Hutton of Snaith, against whom, as he understood, new matter had been found; “we and our Council thought his assembly on pretence of making a supplication no less than high treason, even if this matter had not turned up.” Nothing is known of Hutton’s “assembly.” The man is something of a mystery, as no account remains of the rising round Snaith, which was part of Darcy’s country. Hutton, along with Aske and Constable, was excepted by name out of the intended Yorkshire pardons in November^[618]. A theory that seems to meet the circumstances is that Snaith rose at the beginning of the rebellion, perhaps earlier than the East Riding, and sent a private supplication to the King, as the people of Louth did. This petition, the first to come from Yorkshire, might have especially angered Henry. If this were the case, Hutton’s assembly must have occurred during the period covered by the pardon, yet the King thought it enough to hang him without further evidence, a clear sign of the way things were going. It is of course possible that 127his offence was committed after the pardon, but in that case Norfolk need not have waited for fresh evidence before acting against him.

The King’s further orders were that Norfolk must bring to trial the Abbot of Jervaux^[619] and the quondam Abbot of Fountains, for whose apprehension he was heartily thanked. If enough matter could be found against the Abbot of Sawley, as the King did not doubt, remembering his supplication to Sir Thomas Percy, he was to be disposed of with the others. The men let out on bail by Sir Ralph Ellerker were left to Norfolk’s discretion. The King perceived from the evidence before him that the Friars Observant were “disciples of the Bishop of Rome and sowers of sedition”; therefore the Duke must arrest the friars of that order and imprison them in the houses of other friars, strictly forbidding any man to converse with them until the King’s pleasure towards them was known. Finally the King was about to send for Lord Darcy, as Norfolk himself had advised in a lost letter^[620].

Lord Darcy lay quietly at Pontefract Castle, victualling and garrisoning it at his own cost. He sent Sir Arthur Darcy to Norfolk with instructions to show him that all was quiet round Pontefract, the castle prepared, and Darcy ready at his command. Sir Arthur was to ask for a copy of the King’s oath, which Darcy and his friends and retainers had taken in Pontefract Priory, and he must consult the Duke about Thomas Strangways, Darcy’s steward^[621], who had carried to Aske in York Darcy’s messages—and some of his own, too^[622]. Strangways’ cousin, Sir Oswald Wolsthrope, had warned him that Cromwell bore him no goodwill, and he had gone to Whitby Abbey and the parts about Guisborough in order that Darcy and his friends might not be troubled on his account, although he still trusted to the King’s pardon. He had offered to leave Darcy’s service, but his master was loth to part with him unless Norfolk advised him to do so.

Sir Arthur Darcy was with the Duke in York on 9 February. Norfolk intended to go to Sawley in person to expel the monks, and as Sir Arthur was the farmer, he was expected to attend the Duke with a company of friends and kinsmen suitable to the occasion. He wrote to his father, requesting him to send such a company to join him on Wednesday at Leeds^[623]. Darcy asked for further particulars. Were the men to be harnessed, and were they to be paid, and how 128many must there be^[624]? On 10 February, the day after he received Sir Arthur’s letter, Lord Darcy wrote to Robert Aske, desiring him to deliver secretly to the bearer, Darcy’s constable, all the arrows, bows and spears which had been taken from the castle during the insurrection^[625]. It must have occurred to Darcy that this action might be misinterpreted, when he asked for secrecy; or perhaps he was afraid of provoking the commons, who were still on the alert when they saw a royal castle being put into a state of defence; for this took place while Richmond was still in a state of turmoil and before the rising in Cumberland. These considerations might make secrecy desirable, although otherwise it was unnecessary. It was perfectly natural that Aske should take arms from a captured fortress, and equally natural that Darcy should want them back again after the insurrection when he was suddenly called upon to equip an armed force. The King had laid great stress on the refortification of Pontefract, and Darcy was carrying out these orders as well as he could, knowing that any delay or inefficiency would be turned against him and reported as proof of a traitorous disposition.

Sir Arthur Darcy answered his father’s questions on 12 February. He wanted thirty or forty “clean fellows” besides his own servants; the well-horsed men must be provided with spears and the worse with bows, and he was willing to pay their costs. Norfolk sent Darcy thanks for his good offers; he advised him to put away Strangways, but if the man had not offended since the pardon he might live where he chose without fear^[626].

Darcy sent the men, but the Duke’s plans were altered by the rising in Cumberland, and Sir Arthur rode with him to the musters at Barnard Castle. “I beg you to be no less nigh to his person than ye would be to me,” wrote his father to him^[627]. When news was received at Barnard Castle of the rebels’ defeat, Norfolk gave Sir Arthur his choice of riding with him to Cumberland or departing with his own men to Sawley. Sir Richard Tempest had been sent to Sawley, where he turned out the monks and put three of his servants into possession. Sir Arthur prudently decided to look after his goods. He came to Sawley none too soon, for he found Tempest’s servants wasting the Abbey stuff and collecting his rents. The abbot had been allowed to depart, and at first Sir Arthur could not learn where he was. Before he left, however, secret information was brought and twelve of his servants hunted down the 129abbot and made him prisoner; the poor man protested that he was fit neither to ride nor walk, and had done no wrong, for the commons had forced him to re-enter the Abbey against his will. Sir Arthur took depositions from some of the abbot’s tenants which, he said, showed that the religious were the stirrers of all this pestilent sedition “and not only that but would have eftsoons quickened and revived the same.” When Sir Arthur was leaving the Abbey, he heard that Leache of Lincolnshire “and others of his like” were hiding in Lonsdale. He sent out his men in search of them, and rode himself to Kettlewell, where they were said to be hidden, but did not find them.

On 25 February he returned to Pontefract and sent a report to Cromwell. The country was quiet, thanks to Norfolk’s severities. His father was in the castle, ready at the King’s command, “but his disease grows upon him and he desires licence to withdraw and live with a small company till he be out of debt.” He had dismissed Strangways^[628]. On 22 March Darcy wrote to the King, suggesting that as the country was in such quiet it was no longer necessary to keep a full garrison at Pontefract. He wished to come up to the King at Easter, even though he were able to travel “but six miles a day.”^[629] Shortly afterwards he was commanded to repair to the King’s presence. It may have been on this occasion, or perhaps earlier, that Darcy wrote down a number of memoranda, in which mention is made of his journey up to court. The notes are disjointed, not always intelligible, and chiefly connected with his public life. Among them this passage occurs:

“Item, to counsel with Sir Arthur for bestowing of my servants or helping [them] with fees, annuities or [other] ways: and himself. For I peremptor feel my broken heart, and great diseases, without remedy, to the death of [my] body, which God not offended I most desire, after His high pleasure and my soul’s health: and He be my judge never lost King a truer servant and subject without any cause but lack of furniture and by false reports and pick-thanks. God save the King: though I be without recovery.”^[630]

Towards the end of March 1537, Lord Darcy set out for London.

On the 22nd Norfolk was in York, resting a little after all his riding, but otherwise as busy as ever. As he was staying for two or three days in the same place “about execution,” he thought it a good opportunity to hunt out the devisers of the articles of the spirituality, which the divines at Pontefract had drawn up and submitted to him at Doncaster. About this matter he thought that 130Dr Dakyn, William Bowyer the alderman of York, and Friar Pickering could disclose most, and he sent them up to London. Dakyn had written out the articles for the council of divines, and he could tell “what sort the Archbishop was of,” but Robert Bowes and other gentlemen bore witness that Dakyn had stood firmly to the King’s part in the first insurrection, and had endangered his life in consequence of his loyalty. Bowyer could tell much if he chose, for he had been in Lord Darcy’s favour and was “as naughty a knave as any.” Norfolk advised Cromwell that Pickering should be gently handled and given fair words. He would be able to give information about the prior of Bridlington and Sir Robert Constable, who was a close friend of the prior. By this means Cromwell ought to be able to discover any offences of Darcy or Constable since the pardon^[631].

Norfolk had taken Aske with him when he rode north, though he regarded him with less suspicion than scorn. It must have been a terrible journey for Aske. Did he at last abandon all belief in Henry’s faith? Or did he still hope that a northern parliament would be called and that it might carry the King and the nobles along with it in a violent reaction? Whatever the thoughts of his heart, with Norfolk he assumed confidence. “The man is marvellous glorious, often time boasting to me that he hath such sure espial that nothing can be done nor imagined against the King’s Highness, but he will shortly give me warning thereof,” wrote the Duke scoffingly. He did not believe a word of this; fear in his mind was the instrument of power, never love. Aske might boast of his influence over the commons, but the gentlemen were never tired of telling Norfolk how much they hated him and that he was the only cause and head of the insurrection, the most guilty of all:—

“I have by policy brought him to desire me to give him licence to ride to London, and have promised to write a letter to your Lordship for him; which letter I pray you take of like sort as ye did the other I wrote for Sir Thomas Percy. If neither of them both come never in this country again I think neither true nor honest men would be sorry thereof, nor in likewise for my lord Darcy nor Sir Robert Constable. Hemlock is no worse in a good salad than I think the remaining of any of them in these parts should be ill to the common wealth.”

Norfolk believed that the articles were Aske’s work and that Sir Robert Constable and Lord Darcy were the most earnest maintainers of them. For both these men Aske had a great love, and the King would do well to give him secret interviews, “and wade with him with fair words, as though he had great trust in him. This would make 131him cough out as much as he knows concerning” them. Nevertheless the Duke could not find the slightest sign that they had stirred sedition since the pardon; on the contrary they did their best to prevent and put down Bigod’s rising^[632]. Norfolk caused Aske to draw up several written statements concerning the rising. One was a list of the spoils in which he had shared, though he had never plundered anyone himself^[633]. Another concerned his correspondence with his brother Christopher, the articles of the clergy, his intercourse with the Earl of Northumberland, and his promise to Levening^[634]. The third was about the taking of Pontefract^[635]. On 24 March Aske left York for London, with Norfolk’s letter of recommendation to Cromwell and another to the King, which Cromwell was to see “weighed accordingly.”^[636]

On the same day the Duke was at York sitting in justice on those who had been concerned in Bigod’s rising. It may be presumed that some were condemned, but this is not certain, and two at least were acquitted on the ground that they had been dragged into the business against their wills. One of these was called Lutton; the other was William Levening of Acklam, the gentleman who had appealed to Aske, Darcy and Constable to help him^[637]. Norfolk saw at once that there would be trouble about this acquittal. It was difficult to find anything incriminating against the leaders of the Pilgrimage since the pardon; it could be proved, not only by Levening’s confession but by Aske’s own statement that they had promised to help Levening. If he was a traitor, the three leaders were guilty of misprision of treason and there was a sufficient case for the crown. It is true that they had not in fact concealed the matter, for Aske had reported it to the Duke, but such a fine point could easily be overlooked in the sweeping measures of Tudor justice^[638]. Levening’s acquittal was therefore very inconvenient, and the King demanded the names of the offending jurors. Norfolk replied that he would find them out; he advised the King not to summon them to London or it would be said “that men should be compelled to pass otherwise than their conscience should lead them.”^[639] No doubt he was thinking of the scandal and indignation which Wycliff’s case had caused^[640]. If the King would let Norfolk come himself, he would bring with him “the greatest stickers in the King’s part to 132have the indictments pass,” who would explain the matter. “Some that were acquit was not without good grounds,” and if Lutton had been condemned the Duke would have reprieved him. Sir Ralph Ellerker, who was the only witness against him, said that if he had been on the jury “he would not for all his lands have cast him.”^[641]

The Council sent in reply strict orders that the Levening affair should be “boulted out.” The King thought Levening’s treason manifest; therefore the jurors must be examined^[642]. As to this intimidating others, as long as the King gained by that, he seems to have cared little what justice lost. Norfolk, who was very busy, delayed to send the names^[643], and probably contrived never to show a full list, for he saw clearly that the north was not yet ready for a full revelation of the King’s methods; but Thomas Delariver, one of the gentlemen on the jury, went up to the King. He had not been named by the sheriff, but Norfolk trusted him and Sir Henry Gascoigne so much that he put them on the jury in spite of this, and they were the principal “stickers” on the King’s behalf^[644]. In a deposition which he made concerning Levening’s trial he displayed the secret deliberations of the jurors and the inside of the case. Sir Ralph Ellerker was the chief witness against Levening; Delariver, Sir Henry Gascoigne, Thwaites of Maston and two other jurors thought that his evidence was enough, and were ready to find the prisoner guilty of death. John Donnyngton, Henry Rasshall, Wentworth and four more held the contrary. Some of them were Levening’s neighbours, and they believed that the evidence was given maliciously, because the King had granted Ellerker some of Levening’s lands. Delariver urged that it was impossible the King should have disposed of a man’s lands before he was attainted, and pressed them to give a verdict of guilty. They debated the point from 9 o’clock on Friday morning until Saturday night. The majority said that if Levening was guilty, so were all Bigod’s company, and yet Lutton had been acquitted. The others replied that Lutton was less guilty than Levening, for he had gone with Bigod against his will, and had substantiated his plea by flying to the Ellerkers. Finally Delariver declared that an acquittal would be “the destruction of us all.” Between 12 and 1 o’clock on Saturday an usher came from the Duke to ask if they had yet agreed on their verdict. The majority 133answered that they had, and the rest, for very weariness, let silence assent. The Duke of Norfolk came to the Castle, and just as they were going before him Delariver heard Rasshall say to Thwaites that old Sir Marmaduke Constable would rather lose a hundred pounds than that Levening should be condemned. On hearing this Delariver exclaimed that he would die rather than find Levening not guilty:—

“The Duke then rose up and went to his lodging, appointing his men Scarlit and Brigham to keep the jury more straitly; who took away from them all that might keep them warm. At night the Duke sent Leonard Beckwith and Mansfield to them and they fell all to prayer and rose up and agreed to acquit Levening; for some of them would not have agreed to the contrary to have died in the cause.”^[645]

The jury may have escaped the King’s anger; at least no record of their punishment remains.

Norfolk had further trouble in the matter of sending prisoners up to London. Cromwell had sent for sixteen, and later the King added five more. The Duke explained that he would have to send a guard of at least thirty horsemen with them, and he could not spare so many before his second visit to Durham and Newcastle^[646]. By way of economising escorts, he suggested that letters under the privy seal might be sent to summon some of the intended prisoners to court; this would be quite safe in the cases of Sir Stephen Hamerton, Nicholas Tempest and the Prior of Bridlington, who were in no fear of arrest^[647]. Norfolk was surprised that Gregory Conyers was named among the proposed arrests; no man had done better service than he at the taking of Bigod, and it would be a mistake to send him up in custody “unless there be pregnant matter against him.”^[648] Conyers was probably sent for on the accusation of Sir Francis Bigod. The King was quite willing that as many as could be trusted should come up to London as free men^[649]. Sir Thomas Tempest was to have charge of the prisoners, among whom was Sir John Bulmer^[650].

Norfolk was at Newborough during the first days of April^[651]. He rode thence to Newcastle-upon-Tyne about Border affairs, and was at Durham on the 11th^[652]. There he received letters from the King, dated the 8th, which contained the news that Lord Darcy, Sir Robert Constable and Robert Aske had been arrested, and ordered Norfolk to take inventories of their goods, and seize all their rents and evidences, “so that they may be forthcoming to our use if” the 134prisoners “shall not be purged of the treasons whereof they be now accused.” In a postscript the King added that this was an additional reason for prolonging Norfolk’s stay in the north, as, in his own elliptical phrase, “Lord Darcy, Sir Robert Constable and Robert Aske ... we doubt not will by their confessions detect such matter touching those parts as we would trust no man there so well with the execution of as yourself.”^[653]

On 12 April Norfolk was busy with the trials of the prisoners whom he had been obliged to leave alive at Durham on his first visit. The Earl of Westmorland had arrested thirteen men for some unidentified disturbance, perhaps for “ungoodly handling” Lancaster Herald, or for threatening to hang Westmorland’s bailiff. One of these prisoners had escaped or had been acquitted. Norfolk had picked up two prisoners in Cumberland, John Follansby, gentleman, and Henry Brasse; their offences are never mentioned. Another prisoner, Michael Swayne, appeared in the interval between the first and the second assize^[654]. The Sheriff of Yorkshire sent Hutton of Snaith to Durham by Norfolk’s command, as no sufficient matter could be found against him in his own county; “nor would have been here,” wrote Norfolk, “unless great diligence and circumspection had been used.” Of these sixteen prisoners there was “not one acquit,” as the Duke triumphantly noted, and they were hanged in chains near their homes. Norfolk boasted to the King that people were in such fear that no one now alive was likely to see another insurrection. The King’s visit to the north would establish its loyalty for ever. He need not stay for more than six or eight days, and there would be no lack of food “after the fashion of the country” nor of forage, if he did not come until late in July. Many full-grown people had never seen the King, and the King of Scots, “your scant kind nephew,” was shortly to return “into his proud populous realm.” Those who thought that the King could not come in safety without a very large company had only to see the state of the country to be undeceived^[655]. After finishing the assizes at Durham by attending to the restitution of spoils, Norfolk went to Sheriffhutton and took up his abode in the King’s castle there^[656]. He was very much occupied with Border affairs, which will be dealt with later, but he did not forget the King’s order to seize the goods of the Pilgrimage leaders^[657].

On 24 April William Blytheman wrote to Dr Legh from York. He confirmed Norfolk’s account of the peaceful state of the country. 135Every malefactor was afraid; the spirit of the people had changed much since the insurrection. Complaints were no longer heard against the visitation of the monasteries: “I dare well say there is no religious man that will avouch any grief for that matter.” By midsummer another visitation might be instituted without any danger of opposition. The gentlemen whom Norfolk was sending as prisoners to London in the charge of Sir Thomas Tempest and Robert Bowes had just passed through York^[658].

On Monday 7 May Norfolk received letters from the King and Cromwell^[659] accompanied by the indictments charging Lord Darcy, Robert Aske, Sir Robert Constable, Sir Thomas Percy, Sir Francis Bigod, Sir John Bulmer and Margaret his wife, Sir Stephen Hamerton, George Lumley, Ralph Bulmer, Nicholas Tempest, James Cockerell, quondam prior of Guisborough, William Wood, Prior of Bridlington, Adam Sedbar, Abbot of Jervaux, and William Thirsk, quondam abbot of Fountains, with treason and conspiracy against the King^[660]. According to the usual procedure, these indictments must be found a true bill by a Yorkshire jury before the offenders could be tried in London. At first Norfolk was puzzled by the fact that there were two indictments exactly the same, but after consulting his council, he concluded that he was intended “to have two divers inquests; which, if ye do so I think ye do well, for they being so kept that one of them shall not know what an other doth, shall make them the more quick to find the matter.” This was a method of guiding the hands of justice which entirely recommended itself to the Duke’s ingenious mind. So many gentlemen from all parts of the shire were with him on their own business that he was able to hold the assize at once, and he expected “to have the greatest appearance that was seen at York of many years, on Tuesday at night and Wednesday in the morning.” He was careful to provide for as many juries as might be needed—“we shall lack no number, if I should have four inquests.... My good lord, I will not spare to put the best friends these men have upon one of the inquests, to prove their affections whether they will rather serve his majesty truly and frankly in this matter, or else to favour their friends. And if they will not find then they may have thanks according to their cankered hearts. And, as for the other inquest, I will appoint such that I shall no more doubt than of myself.” Everything was being done in the greatest haste; Cromwell need not doubt that the 136matter would be found “according to the King’s pleasure,” and the result would be in his hands by Friday night^[661].