Chapter XVIII: The Duke of Norfolk’s Mission (1)

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 country 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].

The 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 outbreak 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 writings, 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, and 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 embarrassment, 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, for 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 incompetent 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 see 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 rebellion[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 hear 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, “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, came 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].

Norfolk 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 people “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 back 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 writing 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 a 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 Christopher 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 that 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.