Volume III Part 8 (1/2)
[Sidenote: And again returns into Lincolns.h.i.+re.]
[Sidenote: October 12. And is at Lincoln when Suffolk enters.]
Leaving his own county, he again hastened back to his command in Lincolns.h.i.+re; and by this time he heard of Suffolk's advance with the king's answer to the pet.i.tion. He rode post to Lincoln, and reached the town to find the commons and the gentlemen on the verge of fighting among themselves. He endeavoured to make his way into the cathedral close, but finding himself suspected by the commons, and being told that he would be murdered if he persevered, he remained in concealment till Suffolk had made known the intentions of the government; then, perhaps satisfied that the opportunity was past, perhaps believing that if not made use of on the instant it might never recur, perhaps resigning himself to be guided by events, he went back at full speed to Yorks.h.i.+re.
And events had decided: whatever his intentions may have been, the choice was no longer open to him.
[Sidenote: October 13. The beacons lighted in Yorks.h.i.+re.]
As he rode down at midnight to the bank of the Humber, the clash of the alarm-bells came pealing far over the water. From hill to hill, from church-tower to church-tower, the warning lights were shooting. The fishermen on the German Ocean watched them flickering in the darkness from Spurnhead to Scarborough, from Scarborough to Berwick-upon-Tweed.
They streamed westward, over the long marshes across Spalding Moor; up the Ouse and the Wharf, to the watershed where the rivers flow into the Irish Sea. The mountains of Westmoreland sent on the message to Kendal, to c.o.c.kermouth, to Penrith, to Carlisle; and for days and nights there was one loud storm of bells and blaze of beacons from the Trent to the Cheviot Hills.
[Sidenote: October 9. An address bearing Aske's signature invites the commons of Yorks.h.i.+re to rise.]
All Yorks.h.i.+re was in movement. Strangely, too, as Aske a.s.sures us, he found himself the object of an unsought distinction. His own name was the watchword which every tongue was crying. In his absence an address had gone out around the towns, had been hung on church-doors, and posted on market crosses, which bore his signature, though, as he protested, it was neither written by himself nor with his consent.[122] Ill composed, but with a rugged eloquence, it called upon all good Englishmen to make a stand for the Church of Christ, which wicked men were destroying, for the commonwealth of the realm, and for their own livings, which were stolen from them by impositions. For those who would join it should be well; those who refused to join, or dared to resist, should be under Christ's curse, and be held guilty of all the Christian blood which should be shed.
Whoever wrote the letter, it did its work. One scene out of many will ill.u.s.trate the effect.
[Sidenote: Scene at Beverley.]
[Sidenote: October 8. Priests, women, and families.]
[Sidenote: William Stapleton made captain of Beverley.]
William Stapleton, a friend of Aske, and a brother barrister, also bound to London for the term, was spending a few days at the Grey Friars at Beverley, with his brother Christopher. The latter had been out of health, and had gone thither for change of air with his wife. The young lawyer was to have set out over the Humber on the 4th of October. At three in the morning his servant woke him, with the news that the Lincolns.h.i.+re beacons were on fire, and the country was impa.s.sable.
Beverley itself was in the greatest excitement; the sick brother was afraid to be left alone, and William Stapleton agreed for the present to remain and take care of him. On Sunday morning they were startled by the sound of the alarm-bell. A servant who was sent out to learn what had happened, brought in word that an address had arrived from Robert Aske, and that a proclamation was out, under the town seal, calling on every man to repair to Westwood Green, under the walls of the Grey Friars, and be sworn in to the commons.[123] Christopher Stapleton, a sensible man, made somewhat timid by illness, ordered all doors to be locked and bolted, and gave directions that no one of his household should stir.
His wife, a hater of Protestants, an admirer of Queen Catherine, of the Pope, and the old religion, was burning with sympathy for the insurgents. The family confessor appeared on the scene, a certain Father Bonaventure, taking the lady's part, and they two together ”went forth out of the door among the crowd.”--”G.o.d's blessing on ye,” William Stapleton heard his sister-in-law cry.--”Speed ye well,” the priest cried; ”speed ye well in your G.o.dly purposes.” The people rushed about them. ”Where are your husband and his brother?” they shouted to her. ”In the Freers,” she answered. ”Bring them out!” the cry rose. ”Pull them out by the head; or we will burn the Freers and them within it.” Back flew the lady in haste, and perhaps in scorn, to urge forward her hesitating lord--he wailing, wringing his hands, wis.h.i.+ng himself out of the world; she exclaiming it was G.o.d's quarrel--let him rise and show himself a man. The dispute lingered; the crowd grew impatient; the doors were dashed in; they rushed into the hall, and thrust the oath down the throat of the reluctant gentleman, and as they surged back they swept the brother out with them upon the green. Five hundred voices were crying, ”Captains! captains!” and presently a shout rose above the rest, ”Master William Stapleton shall be our captain!” And so it was to be: the priest Bonaventure had willed it so; and Stapleton, seeing worse would follow if he refused, consented.
It was like a contagion of madness--instantly he was wild like the rest.
”Forward!” was the cry--whither, who knew or cared? only ”Forward!” and as the mult.i.tude rocked to and fro, a splashed rider spurred through the streets, ”like a man distraught,”[124] eyes staring, hair streaming, shouting, as he pa.s.sed, that they should rise and follow, and flas.h.i.+ng away like a meteor.
So went Sunday at Beverley, the 8th of October, 1536; and within a few days the substance of the same scene repeated itself in all the towns of all the northern counties, the accidents only varying. The same spirit was abroad as in Lincolns.h.i.+re; but here were strong heads and strong wills, which could turn the wild humour to a purpose,--men who had foreseen the catastrophe, and were prepared to use it.
[Sidenote: Lord Darcy of Templehurst a known opponent of the Reformation.]
Lord Darcy of Templehurst was among the most distinguished of the conservative n.o.bility. He was an old man. He had won his spurs under Henry VII. He had fought against the Moors by the side of Ferdinand, and he had earned laurels in the wars in France against Louis XII. Strong in his military reputation, in his rank, and in his age, he had spoken in parliament against the separation from the see of Rome; and though sworn like the rest of the peers to obey the law, he had openly avowed the reluctance of his a.s.sent--he had secretly maintained a correspondence with the Imperial court.
[Sidenote: The king's letter to Lord Darcy.]
The king, who respected a frank opposition, and had no suspicion of anything beyond what was open, continued his confidence in a man whom he regarded as a tried friend; and Darcy, from his credit with the crown, his rank and his position, was at this moment the feudal sovereign of the East Riding. To him Henry wrote on the first news of the commotion in Lincolns.h.i.+re, when he wrote to Lord Hussey and Lord Shrewsbury, but, entering into fuller detail, warning him of the falsehoods which had been circulated to excite the people, and condescending to inform him ”that he had never thought to take one pennyworth of the parish churches' goods from them.” He desired Lord Darcy to let the truth be known, meantime he a.s.sured him that there was no cause for alarm, ”one true man was worth twenty thieves and traitors,” and all true men he doubted not would do their duty in suppressing the insurrection.[125]
This letter was written on the same 8th of October on which the scenes which I have described took place at Beverley. Five days later the king had found reason to change his opinion of Lord Darcy.
[Sidenote: Lord Darcy will not be in too great haste to check the rebellion.]
[Sidenote: He will raise no musters,]
[Sidenote: And shuts himself up in Pomfret Castle without provisions.]
To him, as to Lord Hussey, the outbreak at this especial crisis appeared inopportune. The Emperor had just suffered a heavy reverse in France, and there was no prospect at that moment of a.s.sistance either from Flanders or Spain.... A fair occasion had been lost in the preceding winter--another had not yet arisen.... The conservative English were, however, strong in themselves, and might be equal to the work if they were not crushed prematurely; he resolved to secure them time by his own inaction.... On the first symptoms of uneasiness he sent his son, Sir Arthur Darcy, to Lord Shrewsbury, who was then at Nottingham. Young Darcy, after reporting as to the state of the country, was to go on to Windsor with a letter to the king. Sharing, however, in none of his father's opinions, he caught fire in the stir of Shrewsbury's camp;--he preferred to remain where he was, and, sending the letter by another hand, he wrote to Templehurst for arms and men. Lord Darcy had no intention that his banner should be seen in the field against the insurgents. Unable to dispose of Sir Arthur as he had intended, he replied that he had changed his mind; he must return to him at his best speed; for the present, he said, he had himself raised no men, nor did he intend to raise any: he had put out a proclamation with which he trusted the people might be quieted.[126] The manuvre answered well.