CHAPTER VI
THE FAILURE OF LINCOLNSHIRE

By Saturday 7 October the preparations in London were fully under weigh. Letters under the Privy Seal were sent out. They announced that the King purposed to advance against the rebels in person, and summoned the noblemen to whom they were directed to meet him at Ampthill each with a specified force. Orders were sent out to the ports to keep watch; arrangements were made for posts; lists were drawn up of those who were to march against the rebels, those who were to attend the King and those who were to guard the Queen[588]. Sir William Fitzwilliam, the Lord Admiral, was despatched to Ampthill. He reported that the country was loyal as far as Godalming and Guildford, and that he had no difficulty in raising men, but that he would only take horsemen as recruits, there being such need of haste[589].

The news of the insurrection was first sent abroad by Chapuys, who wrote to the Emperor on 7 October. The ambassador believed that the insurgents were numerous and the disaffection widespread, but he did not think that they could hold out long, as they lacked both money and a leader. Nevertheless the King seemed dejected, great preparations were going forward, and Cromwell was said to be afraid. His nephew Richard Cromwell had taken quantities of arms from the Tower, and was pressing men, even the masons at work on Cromwell’s house; the sanctuary men were being imprisoned for fear they should join the rebels. The Duke of Norfolk dined that day with the Bishop of Carlisle—a special occasion for which wine was procured from Chapuys—and requested his host to help to make some large purchases of cloth which the government was organising to allay the discontent among the clothmakers. The Bishop promised to contribute, and many wealthy merchants and bishops were compelled to do the same. Immediately after dinner Norfolk set out for his own country to raise men for the muster at Ampthill and to prevent disturbances[590].

Reports of the rebels’ strength and the unsettled state of the country south of Lincolnshire poured in upon Cromwell[591]. Lord Clinton had been despatched to the Midlands with letters missive summoning the gentlemen to keep order in their own neighbourhoods and to raise men for the King, who were to meet the Earl of Shrewsbury at Nottingham on Monday. The Earls of Rutland and Huntingdon were ordered to join him. Clinton was unable to deliver the letters to the Lincolnshire gentlemen, and wrote on the 7th that Hussey would probably be taken that day[592]. There was a rumour that Clinton had raised 500 men who immediately went over to the enemy[593]. Two friars of Grimsby sent Cromwell information against the prior of the Austin Friars, who had supplied the rebels with money[594]. The gentlemen of Holland reported the rising of their country on Saturday[595]. Sir William Hussey, who seems to have escaped from Sleaford at the same time as his father, rode straight to London with only one servant. By the wayside they heard the people “both old and young, praying God speed the rebellious people of Lincolnshire, and saying that if they came that way they should lack nothing that they could help them to.”[596] In Windsor itself a priest and a butcher were hanged for expressing sympathy with the rebels[597]. On Friday Sir Edward Madeson, who brought the commons’ letter to the King, was examined before the Council, and told them what he knew of the rebels[598], which, as he had left Lincolnshire on Tuesday night, was not very much.

George Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, the Lord Steward, was at Hardwick in Sherwood on Saturday 7 October[599]. On this day Sir Arthur Darcy arrived at his camp. He had been sent by his father from Templehurst with letters which reported the unsettled state of the country, the risings in Lincolnshire and Northumberland, and asked for orders, money and ordnance[600]. He found the Lord Steward “sore crassyd” with sickness, but labouring to muster all his powers at Nottingham on Monday next. Sir Arthur saw a chance of distinguishing himself in the coming conflict, and his father’s messages, essential as they were to the safety of the north, were at once thrown to the winds. He wrote to Lord Darcy, telling him that when the Lord Steward gave him a message for the King, “I said I would be no messenger when the King should need; and further that I knew well that he being at so near a point to try his friends that I would be with him, thoff I had but my page and my man.” He therefore asked that his men might be sent up to him “and I shall there be found near the Talbot.” In a postscript he drops from his heroics to domestic details, “Remember a truss bed and my harness for me and my men.”[601] The spy who had been at Lincoln told Shrewsbury that the rebels were about 40,000 strong, but only 16,000 in harness. He reported the muster to be held at Ancaster, where it was said that Hussey would join the rebels. He had promised to return to Lincoln and was about to do so. His watchword was “Remember your promise.”[602] Shrewsbury at Hardwick and Rutland, who had already arrived at Nottingham with his men, were both writing to the King for money and ordnance, “for money is the thing that every poor man will call for.”[603]

Fitzwilliam reached Ampthill on Sunday 8 October and “planted his standard and guydon.” Richard Cromwell was again at the Tower and took out “34 little falconets of those made by the King last year”; he set out with them, but the roads were so heavy with the recent rain that when they had gone no more than a mile into the country the horses broke down[604]. Thirteen of the guns were sent back at once, and in the end only sixteen could go forward, together with the necessary stores and supply of weapons[605]. Richard Cromwell pushed on without waiting for the guns. He reached Ware that night, meeting by the way some recruits and two fugitives from Lincolnshire, who told him the rebels were 40,000 strong, that their numbers were ever growing, and that they were encamped in strong positions[606].

As the reports of the insurrection became more and more alarming, the King altered his plans. His first idea was that Shrewsbury could easily dispose of the rebels, and that he himself would then make a military promenade through the district. The Duke of Norfolk had been sent to Ampthill “to exercise the office of High Marshal, and to set the army which shall be then arrived in order, that the King on his repair thither on Monday[607] may view them and dismiss them from time to time with thanks and good entertainment.”[608] But it was now evident that the campaign would be no mere picnic, and the King was unwilling to expose his royal person to its possible dangers, while the need for haste was so great that it would be unwise to hamper the army by the delays which were inevitable if the King accompanied it. At the same time he did not consider it safe to trust the command to the Duke of Norfolk if he himself were not there, as Norfolk was suspected of leanings towards the old religion[609]. It was impossible to send Cromwell, for while on the one hand he was no general, on the other he was so unpopular that it would have been difficult to find a dozen men who would follow him. The King therefore had recourse to his old comrade Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, who was one of the few persons Henry regarded with something like friendship and confidence. Suffolk had gone to his own country to prevent disturbances, when a message overtook him that he was to set out at once for Huntingdon, where he would find Richard Cromwell with the stores from the Tower. On receiving these orders he lost no time. Leaving the force he had mustered to follow him, he turned northwards, riding all night[610].

Meanwhile letters reached Norfolk countermanding his orders, directing him to send his son, the Earl of Surrey, and his horses to the Duke of Suffolk, and to remain himself in Norfolk to stay the country[611]. He must have suspected that such a slight was due to Cromwell’s jealousy, and he wrote at once a vigorous remonstrance pointing out that if he were to send away his son and his horses he could do little towards staying the people. He declared that rather than “sit still like a man of law” he would set out on Tuesday unless he received positive orders to the contrary. This letter was despatched at 1 a.m. on Sunday 8 October from Easterford[612]. By 6 p.m. on the same day Norfolk had reached Stoke and found so many seditious rumours by the way that he had become reconciled to the idea of remaining in that part of the country, but he found it more than ever necessary to keep his son and horses with him. The clothmakers were “very light,” and had only been prevented from rising by the proclamation suspending the new statute. Nevertheless the Earl of Oxford would be able to do as much as he towards keeping all quiet, and he concluded with a final protest: “I think I had much wrong offered me to send my son and servants from me, considering that he cannot overtake my lord of Suffolk who will be tomorrow night at Huntingdon, and they shall be fought withal or tomorrow noon by my Lord Steward.”[613]

On Monday 9 October Norfolk was at Woolpit. He reported that he could raise 2500 men, and that he had “set such order that it shall be hard for anyone to speak an unfitting word without being incontinently taken and sent to me.” He had heard of the rising in Boston and Holland and was prepared to meet the rebels if they attempted to join hands with the discontented clothiers of Suffolk. If only Oxford were sent down the country would be safe enough, and he himself was ready to serve under the Duke of Suffolk, whom he could join in two or three days[614]. Three hours later, when he was within three miles of his home at Kenninghall, he received a summons to the general muster, dated the 7th[615]. Probably the messenger had been despatched on the 7th, had missed Norfolk, who had been travelling about so much, and had only come up to him now. But the Duke at once accepted the summons as countermanding the orders that had reached him on the 8th, and wrote to the Council that he would set out for London that night as soon as the moon rose[616]. Here we must take leave of my Lord of Norfolk for a considerable time.

On Sunday 8 October Lord Darcy wrote to his son from Pontefract Castle, urging him to make haste to the King; the Lord Steward, he said, would understand that Sir Arthur was necessary to his father, on account of his (Lord Darcy’s) debility, and he could do most service by going to the King at once. In spite of every effort, Yorkshire was on the point of rising[617]. The King’s letters summoning the northern counties to send help to Shrewsbury were received at Pontefract that day. The danger of mustering men in a shire humming with sedition was obvious. However Sir Brian Hastings, the sheriff, who was with Darcy, set out to gather what men he could and march to Nottingham[618]. The King wrote to Darcy on the same day, in ignorance of Yorkshire affairs, simply to tell him to deny the rumours about parish churches, etc., and thereby expose the “wretched and devilish intents” of the rebels[619]. Next day, Monday 9 October, the King did at last receive Darcy’s letters. He thanked him for his warning and politic proceedings, but was confident that the danger was at an end, and that all Darcy had to do now was to arrest fugitives and any who spread rumours[620]. This tone of exaggerated confidence perhaps shows that the King distrusted Darcy, for the position of affairs seemed very unpromising from the royal point of view. It was reported in London that Sir Thomas Percy had joined the rebels with 30,000 men to avenge himself on the King for the loss of his inheritance[621]. No doubt this was the first distorted hint of the rising in the northern counties.

The disposition of the royal forces was as follows: at Nottingham were the Earls of Shrewsbury, Rutland, and Huntingdon, with such forces and weapons as they could muster. At Stamford were Sir John Russell and Sir William Parr with a small force in an absolutely defenceless town[622]. At Huntingdon was the Duke of Suffolk, who arrived there at 6 a.m. on Monday morning, almost alone, to find “neither ordnance nor artillery nor men enough to do anything; such men as are gathered there have neither harness nor weapons.”[623] He had received from the King letters for the rebels, which reproached them for their disloyalty, denied the rumours, and threatened them with terrible vengeance if they did not instantly submit[624]. These he sent to Lincoln with a covering letter of his own[625]. Even if the rebels refused to surrender he hoped he might be able to prevent their advance until the royal army was in a little better order. But he also wrote to ask for instructions in case they should submit, and to urge that money, of which he was greatly in need, and ordnance, should be sent at once. Many of the troops which he had levied in Suffolk were detained there by the King’s orders, and he begged that they might be sent after him under command of Sir Anthony Wingfield, Sir Arthur Hopton, and Sir Francis Lovell. He was expecting to be joined by Sir Francis Brian, who was at Kimbolton with 300 horse. He had written to Parr and Russell to ask whether it would be possible to defend Stamford; if not they were to fall back upon him at Huntingdon[626]. At the same time he wrote to Cromwell for “a herald, two pursuivants, two trumpets and the King’s banner.”[627]

On Tuesday 10 October Suffolk determined to advance to Stamford instead of halting at Huntingdon. He was joined early in the morning, before he set out, by Richard Cromwell, without the ordnance[628], which was finally despatched from London that very day under charge of William Gonson[629]. Richard had heard a rumour that Suffolk had lost a battle and 20,000 men, and wrote to his uncle to assure him that everything was going well[630]. George Staines was taken by the royal troops on his way up to London with the rebels’ second petition to the King, and was sent on under guard by Suffolk[631]. By 8 o’clock on Tuesday night there were assembled at Stamford the forces of Suffolk and Richard Cromwell, Sir John Russell and Sir William Parr, Sir Francis Brian, and the troops from Ampthill under the Admiral, Sir William Fitzwilliam[632].

The letters from the King and the Duke of Suffolk were delivered this day to the gentlemen in the Chapter House of Lincoln Cathedral. They brought the affairs of the rebels to a crisis. It became necessary for the gentlemen to make a definite choice. The royal troops were disorganised and without money or ordnance. In discipline, equipment, and fighting quality they were exactly the same as the insurgents, neither better nor worse; both alike were drawn from the ordinary farm hands of the country and tradesmen of the town. The rebels, being on volunteer service, might be something above the royal troops in spirit; on the other hand the King’s men had no voice in the council of war and were more amenable to authority. The commons of Lincolnshire were clamouring to be led to battle, and one small success, which seemed well within their reach, might raise the whole kingdom and leave the King at their mercy. But the gentlemen were afraid. In order to gain that victory they must definitely throw in their lot with the commons, give up the plea that they were with them only on compulsion, and abandon all hope of making peace with the King. If they fought and were defeated those who did not fall in the field would end on the gallows, or at best in exile; their lands would pass to strangers, their children would be left destitute, and the old names would die out. Lincolnshire would be given over to fire and pillage. If they fought and won, it would mean the renewal of civil war in England, after fifty years of peace. The new war would be a religious war, with some prospect of a foreign invasion; England at the hour of her first prosperity, just taking her place among the nations, might be crippled beyond recovery. It was a terrible decision to lie in the hands of a few country gentlemen, who were not, perhaps, very well fitted to deal with such momentous affairs. Cromwell’s servant, John Williams, declared a few weeks later that he had never seen anywhere “such a sight of asses, so unlike gentlemen as the most part of them be. Knights and esquires are meeter to be baileys; men void of good fashion, and, in truth, of wit, except in matters concerning their trade which is to get goods only.”[633] This is very prejudiced evidence, but the attitude of the Lincolnshire gentlemen towards the rebellion is a difficult problem. It is impossible to speak of them all collectively as doing or believing this or that. The chief distinction that must be noticed is the division of the host into two principal bands, the men of Louth and the men of Horncastle.

The gentlemen who belonged to the Louth district seem on the whole to have been acting from the first against their will; they were for the most part the commissioners taken at Caistor, and they had generally every reason to support the government and fear the commons. There were exceptions, such as Sir Christopher Askew, but on the whole the commons were right in the suspicions which they entertained of their enforced leaders. William Morland stated in his evidence that “as far as he could see both all the gentlemen and honest yeomen of the country were weary of this matter, and sorry for it, but durst not disclose their opinion to the commons for fear of their lives.”[634]

In the Horncastle host the leaders were not nearly so reluctant. When the people first rose there and went to Scrivelsby Hall they were met, about a quarter of a mile from the house, by the sheriff, Thomas Dymmoke of Carlton, Mr Dighton of Sturton, Mr Sanderson, and Arthur Dymmoke. They greeted the commons with the words, “Masters, ye be welcome,” and when they were told they must take the commons’ oath they replied, “With a good will.” When the sheriff was asked whether the bells should be rung, he said, “Yea, and ye will, for it is necessary that the people have knowledge.”[635] That night the Sandersons went through the village of Snelland in harness and told the people that they must be at the Horncastle muster next day[636]; they were the bringers of the white banner with the parchment picture[637]. It was the gentlemen of Horncastle who drew up the articles and explained the Statute of Uses to the commons[638]. Nicholas Leache, the parson of Belchford, who was with the Horncastle company, thought “all the exterior acts of the gentlemen amongst the commons were done willingly, for he saw them as diligent to set forward every matter as the commons were. And further during the whole time of the insurrection not one of them persuaded the people to desist or showed them it was high treason. Otherwise he believes in his conscience they would not have gone forward, for all the people with whom he had intelligence thought they had not offended the King, as the gentlemen caused proclamations to be made in his name. He thinks the gentlemen might have stayed the people of Horncastle, for at the beginning his parishioners went forward among the rebels only by command of the gentlemen. The gentlemen were first harnessed of all others, and commanded the commons to prepare themselves harness, and he believes the commons expected to have redress of grievances by way of supplication to the King.”[639]

At first the policy of the gentlemen, whether favourable or unfavourable to the rising, was probably much the same. There would have been no difficulty in making a sudden dash up to London, for there was no force to oppose them on the way; but even if they reached London, as Wat Tyler and Jack Cade did from nearer points, it was difficult to do anything effective there. The well-wishers of the insurgents might reasonably think that their best chance lay in drilling the commons into some sort of discipline before they advanced, and this was the opinion of all the gentlemen. According to George Hudswell, “Sir William Skipwith said they (the commons) should be ordered whether they would or no, and every gentleman said it shall be well done that they be ruled”;[640] Philip Trotter deposed that “from the beginning to the end of the insurrection the gentlemen might have stayed it if they would, for the commons did nothing but by the gentlemen’s commandment, and they durst never stir in the field from the place they were appointed to till the gentlemen directed them what to do; and were cautioned not to stir from their appointed places upon pain of death.”[641] Moreover, if the leaders knew that Yorkshire would rise in a few days, they may have wished to put off their advance on London until they were joined by reinforcements from the north.

The fact that the gentlemen counselled delay does not therefore prove that they were really opposed to the rising. But by Tuesday 10 October the spirits of the most daring seem to have failed. No doubt rumours of the King’s musters had reached them as much exaggerated as the accounts of their own numbers which were repeated in London. The first effect of the news from Yorkshire had worn off. The commissioners were men of influence, and when the more impetuous of the gentlemen found them opposed to the movement, they probably felt its chance of success was very much diminished. They may have been half irritated and half frightened by the attitude of the commons, who were in a grumbling, dispirited, and yet vicious mood. They feared their allies quite as much as the troops which opposed them; and recollections of the German Peasant Revolt in 1525 would increase their alarm[642]. When it came to the parting of the ways, even those who had at first seemed heart and soul with the rebels wavered; they dared not proclaim themselves traitors and give up the path of retreat which they believed was still open to them. Accordingly they prepared to desert the commons. If they had had a chief captain, a man who thought of neither gentlemen nor commons but only of the cause, this dangerous time might have been tided over. A popular leader might have coaxed the host out of its ill-humour, and inspired the gentlemen to forget the promptings of cowardice and treachery in the greatness of the adventure which they had taken upon them. But there was no leader, and mistrust and disorder took his place in Lincoln.

There was a muster upon Lincoln Heath on Tuesday morning, but it seems to have been ill-attended. The monks of Kirkstead and the men of Sleaford both were given leave to go home[643]. William Morland returned to his home at Kedington, and in passing through Louth saved the lives of Cromwell’s servants, Bellowe, Milsent, and Parker, who had been imprisoned in the Tollbooth since Monday 2 October. Their captors, having taken their money and given it into the charge of Robert Brown the jailor, had resolved to put them to death, but Morland and some honest men of the town persuaded the crowd to spare the prisoners and disperse. In recognition of this service Parker and his fellows requested the jailor to give Morland, out of the £6 of their money which he was keeping, “two crowns, the one of 5s. and the other of 14 groats, and to make up just 10s. they gave him 4d. in silver.”[644] It is a pity that Morland, who was so good an observer and narrator, was away from Lincoln on this critical day, as only one account of the events now remains, that of Thomas Moigne[645].

On Tuesday afternoon some three hundred of the commons brought in the letters from the King and the Duke of Suffolk addressed to Sir Robert Tyrwhit, Sir William Askew, Sir William Skipwith and Sir Edward Dymmoke. They carried them to the gentlemen who were assembled in the Chapter House, and insisted on hearing their contents. Moigne began to read the letters aloud, but coming to a part which he knew would anger the commons, he omitted it. The parson of Snelland, standing at his elbow, detected this, and cried out to the commons that the letter was falsely read[646]. The meeting was plunged into confusion; someone cried that it was time to kill some of the justices: if they were hanged for it they would not leave a gentleman alive in the shire[647]; many would have slain Moigne. In the end the wilder spirits were driven out into the cloisters, where, after much debate, they determined to kill the gentlemen. Their plans miscarried, for the gentlemen’s servants overheard, and warned their masters that a party was lying in wait to kill them as they came out of the west door of the minster. With the aid of the faithful servants they were smuggled out of the south door to the house of the murdered chancellor, and there they resolved to make a stand, to refuse to go forward, and to defend themselves, if necessary, until the royal army relieved them[648]. According to Moigne this resolution was taken by his advice, but some preparations had been made the day before to render the Close defensible against the commons[649]. The servants carried messages to “the most honest men of their companies” by which they were induced to give up the idea of going forward. Meanwhile the commons outside the minster discovered that they had been tricked, and decided not to attack the gentlemen until morning[650].

On Wednesday 11 October the gentlemen and honest men, in harness, marched down from Lincoln minster and met the commons in the fields, where they stated clearly that they would not go forward, but would wait for the King’s answer to their suit for pardon. They had written to Suffolk to ask him to intercede for them, and they would do no more[651]. The commons seem to have been completely bewildered by this turn of affairs. They did not attack the gentlemen, but neither did they choose leaders of their own and go on, nor as an alternative return to their homes in a body. A good many slipped away quietly; Robert Carre of Sleaford, for instance, went to see his wife, who had taken refuge with her father, put his “evidences” into two chests, gave orders that they were to be hidden in a hole under the thatch if the host came by, and rode off to join Lord Clinton at Nottingham[652]. The canons of Barlings went home the same day[653]. William Morland on the other hand returned to Lincoln by way of Louth, where he “made him a cloak of black cloth.” It was said in the host that he had gone to Louth to fire the beacons, which shook his credit both with the gentlemen and the commons, until two indifferent men were sent to Louth, who reported that he had done no such thing[654].

Rumours of the rebels’ flight soon reached Suffolk’s camp, and Richard Cromwell reported them to his uncle. His letter gives an amusing glimpse of Suffolk’s headquarters. Richard says that “my Lord Admiral” (Fitzwilliam) and also “my Lord’s Grace” (Suffolk) show him great attention, and “my Lord Admiral is so earnest in the matter that I dare well say he would eat them (the rebels) with salt. I never saw one triumph like unto him.”[655] It is easy to imagine the nobles, with hearts full of contempt and hatred, showing every courtesy to the young upstart, and taking care that their abuse of traitors grew warmer when he appeared. It was first said that 10,000 or 12,000 of the rebels had fled home, but later in the day one of Sir John Thimbleby’s sons arrived at Stamford who halved these figures, but declared that not 10,000 remained in Lincoln. Young Thimbleby’s reception was not encouraging; Suffolk at once put him in ward and threatened, if his father did not come in by eight next morning, to spoil all he had and cut his son in pieces. The feeling against Sir John was particularly strong, because Russell and Parr accused him of assembling all his tenants as if to join them, threatening to burn the houses of those who refused to go with him, and then taking his whole company over to the rebels. Suffolk intended to march on Lincoln on Saturday, and afterwards to destroy Louth and Horncastle. Richard Cromwell professed to be very sorry that the rebels were flying, as he had hoped they would be used as they deserved and the whole shire sacked[656]. The ordnance had arrived at Huntingdon[657], so that Suffolk was able to think of advancing. His only wish was to meet the rebels in a pitched battle, but Shrewsbury, at Nottingham, was more politic. He had with him Thomas Miller, Lancaster Herald, whom he despatched to Lincoln with a proclamation which bade the rebels depart to their homes[658]. Lancaster Herald reached Lincoln on Wednesday evening and found everything in confusion,—the gentlemen anxious to make their peace with the King,—the commons without leaders, without plans, without hopes[659]. It was too late to discharge his errand that night.

On Thursday 12 October the host was summoned to the Castle Garth to hear his proclamation[660]. It was in the names of George Earl of Shrewsbury, Thomas Earl of Rutland, and George Earl of Huntingdon, and briefly ordered the rebels to depart to their houses[661]. The herald told the rebels that Shrewsbury was prepared to fight them on Ancaster Heath if they disobeyed[662]. It is not known what further arguments he used, but after much persuasion the commons agreed to go home, while the gentlemen made a formal submission[663] and repaired to Suffolk to sue for pardon[664]. There was still a party which was eager to fight. Its leader, Robert Leache, seized the gentlemen’s written submission, and opened and read it before it was delivered to the herald, “saying he would see what their answer was ere it should depart.”[665] With the usual irony of slow-fingered indifference the painters had ready that day the banner which the insurgents had designed for themselves. It was a linen cloth on which were painted “the Five Wounds of Christ, a chalice with the Host, a plough and a horn with a scripture.” The Five Wounds were to show the people they fought in Christ’s cause; the chalice and the Host were in remembrance that chalices, crosses, and church jewels should be taken away; the plough was to encourage the husbandmen; the horn, according to the Horncastle men, was in token of Horncastle, but others regarded it as a symbol of the tax on horned cattle[666].

The news of the herald’s success was sent to Suffolk, and he wrote to the King asking for instructions. He was expecting to effect a junction with Shrewsbury on the following Monday[667]. Most of the money had arrived[668], and the ordnance was looked for next day (Friday). He wished to know whether he and the Lord Steward should pardon the Lincolnshire men and advance at once into Yorkshire, or stay and reduce Lincolnshire to complete submission by severity. He pointed out that the Yorkshire rebellion was spreading fast and had better be confronted immediately, and that by an advance the royal troops could prevent a meeting between the Yorkshiremen and any new rebels in Lincolnshire. He wrote at midnight, and in the midst of his letter the Dymmokes arrived at the camp accompanied by a messenger from the other gentlemen, who was commissioned to ask Suffolk whether they should come to him in harness and to beg for his intercession with the King. He replied that they must use their own discretion; he could only keep them in surety until the King’s pleasure was known[669].

On Friday 13 October the last of the insurgents dispersed[670]. They despatched the bailly of Barton to Beverley—the last messenger from the Lincolnshire host—to countermand Kyme’s message[671]. The men of Horncastle marched sadly home and placed their new unneeded banner in the parish church[672]. All Suffolk’s ordnance had now arrived, and though he had only 5000 men he discharged 2000, as he had not enough arms to supply both his own men and Shrewsbury’s; he thought such a sign of confidence would make an impression on the rebels. He sent word to Shrewsbury to advance next day to meet him, but the Earl replied that he could not leave Nottingham without money, and that he wished to know what the King had to say to Lancaster Herald’s report before anything more was attempted[673]. Shrewsbury wrote at the same time to Darcy, and sent him a copy of the proclamation which had had such effect in Lincoln. He said that the rebels now “mind themselves to be the King’s true and faithful subjects at all times and from time to time accordingly.” As they would give no further help to the Yorkshiremen, but on the contrary had promised to stop the boats on the Humber, Ouse, and Trent, “so that none shall come over but be glad to return homewards like fools,” he trusted that the disturbances in Yorkshire would cease[674].

At this point we must return to Lord Hussey, who had gone straight to Shrewsbury’s camp after his escape from Sleaford. He reached Nottingham on the morning of Monday 9 October, bringing with him his wife and George Hudswell. Instead of finding himself in safety among friends he had only left one atmosphere of danger and suspicion to enter another. Shrewsbury’s doubts of his loyalty sprang from the constant reports that he had joined the rebels. Depositions against him had been taken as early as the 7th[675]; when Norfolk heard the false report that he was with the rebels he wrote to the King, “if it be true there is folly upon folly. I pray God there be truth though there be much folly.”[676] Hussey’s own family unintentionally strengthened the feeling against him. Fitzwilliam advised Cromwell to examine Sir William Hussey as to why he had not reported to the Council the seditious words which, according to his servant’s report, he had heard between Lincolnshire and London[677]. On their arrival at Nottingham Lady Hussey created a very unfavourable impression when she implored the Earls of Shrewsbury and Huntingdon to allow her husband to return to Lincolnshire for the sake of the children she had left at Sleaford; “like a fool saying that if she brought me not again the rebels would burn my house and them,” said her naturally aggrieved husband[678]. No doubt the poor lady was in great anxiety, and he had brought her with him much against her will. George Cutler, who had carried Hussey’s messages to the rebels, was examined that day[679].

The principal evidence as to Lord Hussey’s conduct lies in two undated papers, which were probably drawn up about the end of the week. One is his own statement to the Council, whom he begged to intercede for him with the King. After giving an account of the week’s events at Sleaford, he concluded with the assertion that he had 300 men now in the King’s service, 200 under the command of his son, and eight score under Anthony Ireby; that he remained at Sleaford to stay the country, and that while he was there neither Holland nor Kesteven rose[680]. The other document is the deposition of Robert Carre of Sleaford, the head of the principal local family[681]. The two accounts agree very closely as to the facts, but differ completely in the interpretation put upon them. Lord Hussey represented himself as pacifying those who urged him to join the rebels; Carre accused him of sending away men who offered to fight for the King; for example, “Before the rebels came to Sleaford, the bailiff of Ruskington offered to be, with as many as he could get, under Hussey’s command; and my Lord pinched him by the little finger, bidding him come when he sent unto him by that token and not else.” At the end of his deposition, which is mutilated, there seem to have been other instances of persons who offered their services to Lord Hussey and “had slender answers.”[682] This account is to some extent confirmed by the saying of Richard Burwell, constable of Potter Hanworth, that he asked counsel of Mr Robert Sutton, who answered that he had been with Lord Hussey and could see no remedy but to do as the commons did[683].

Against this must be set Hussey’s account of the position; Lord Clinton had fled, the gentlemen returned slack answers to his summons, and he did not believe that he could raise enough men to resist the rebels, but by his influence he was able to keep his own people from rising, while if like Lord Borough and Lord Clinton he had fled at the first alarm, they would have joined the rebels at once[684]. There seems to be little doubt that this was really Hussey’s belief, and in itself it was quite reasonable. There are two points which tell against Carre’s evidence. In the first place he had been for some days with the rebels,—against his will as he said,—but still the fact was enough to hang him. In the circumstances he would probably be ready to say anything that his examiners wished him to say, and particularly ready to incriminate somebody else. In the second place the whole deposition is conceived in a spirit of the bitterest hatred of Hussey, perhaps on account of some forgotten local quarrel, perhaps from a feeling that Hussey had deserted Sleaford and brought its inhabitants into danger. In one place Carre says “If my lord had gathered men for the King as he had done for his own pomp to ride to sessions or assize, he might have driven the rebels back,” an obviously foolish and spiteful remark[685]. The offer of help which he mentions came too late, when the rebels were approaching the town and Hussey had prepared for flight. Carre’s deposition seems to have been the chief evidence against Hussey, and at the end of it are written the ominous words, “My lord Hussey, this is perused deliberately.” All things considered, the only charge which could be substantiated against Hussey was that he had made himself singular by remaining at his post longer than the neighbouring noblemen.

On Wednesday 11 October the King did not yet know of the Yorkshire insurrection, and though the issue in Lincolnshire was still doubtful, he put a bold face on the matter and wrote to the ambassadors in France, Gardiner and Wallop, such an account of the rebellion as he wished to circulate in foreign courts. The rebels were chiefly boys and beggars, who had been deceived by the false rumours of traitors. He had sent an army under the Duke of Suffolk, which would by this time have disposed of them, and “according to ancient custom” had levied another of “pure tried men” which could not number less than 40,000 and had been conveyed to Ampthill in six days, “and yet the greater part of our realm is not touched.”[686] This was a rather loose statement on the King’s part, though no doubt good enough for foreign consumption; the first levies at Ampthill had been summoned on the 5th and 6th and had marched to Huntingdon with Fitzwilliam on the 9th, while the second levies, which were just being assembled by Norfolk and others, were summoned on the 10th to be at Ampthill on the 16th[687]. Suffolk’s letters of the 12th were not despatched until after midnight; consequently the news of the “sparpling” of the rebels cannot have been generally known in London on the 13th. It was probably on this day that Chapuys’ nephew sent an account of the rising to the Regent of the Netherlands. He refers to the events of the 12th, but not to the rebels’ capitulation. He gives an amusing account of the progress of affairs,—as they were unofficially reported in London. The King’s commissioners, he said, were demolishing 400 (really 40) abbeys in Lincolnshire, when the peasants rose against them on Monday 2 October “under the leading of a shoemaker named William Keing Hardy, a man of persuasive manner.” This must be our old friend Nicholas Melton, Captain Cobbler, but it is impossible to say where Chapuys’ nephew picked up the extraordinary name. The rebels tried to seize Dr Legh, “a man much hated by the whole country for his arrogance ever since he dared to cite before the Archbishop of Canterbury your late aunt the Queen of England.” But Legh escaped, and in their disappointed rage the commons seized and hanged his cook. There is nothing in the depositions about the rebellion to confirm this story. Chapuys also repeats the tale about a man being baited to death, and mentions the rumour of a rising further north, and the execution of two men at Windsor for seditious words. He describes the murder of the Bishop of Lincoln’s chancellor, and attributes the commons’ hatred of the bishop, to the fact that they regarded him “as one of the principal councillors who raised scruples in the King to repudiate your said aunt.” The numbers of the host increased rapidly, and they began to take and swear the gentlemen; “and from that time the said shoemaker began to wear a cloak of crimson satin, embroidered with the words “Je ayme Dieu le roy et le prouffit du commung.”[688] The arrival of the news in London and the King’s preparations are next described. “On Saturday (7 October) they (the rebels) were more than 50,000, and among them over 10,000 priests, monks and religious persons of whom the most learned continually admonish their men to continue the work begun, pointing out the advantages which will come to them of it.” The writer himself saw the ordnance taken out of the Tower and the break-down which occurred. The King is levying musters in Kent and the southern counties, but there is great danger that his own men will turn against him, as they sympathise with the demands of the rebels, saying “that they wish to live like their ancestors, defend the abbeys and churches, be quit of taxes and subsidies, and recover those they have paid already more by fear than love, especially that which they lent in the time of the Cardinal, which amounts to a very horrible sum. Finally they demand a shearer of cloths to be given up to them, meaning Cromwell, and a tavernkeeper, meaning the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Chancellor of the country, the Chancellor of the Augmentations, and certain other bishops and lords of the King’s Council.” The King is taking men from Dover and Sandwich, which will weaken the coast defences and make an invasion easy. The French tailors and Flemish shoemakers in London are being compelled to serve in the army for two groats a day, and one groat as drink money for every five miles they march, while the English receive only 6d. and the same drink money. He concludes by pointing out that such a chance may not come again for avenging all the wrongs that Henry has inflicted on the faith and family of the Emperor; he therefore implores the Regent to send from the army now in Zealand 2000 arquebusiers and a supply of ammunition, which should be landed “in the river which goes up to York.”[689] Needless to say, this advice was not acted upon.

By the next day, Saturday 14 October, Lancaster Herald was with the King, and the news from Lincolnshire must have been generally known. For the first time since the beginning of the rebellion all parties halted, and nothing was done until the 15th, Sunday, when the King, believing all danger at an end, sent out orders countermanding the musters at Ampthill[690]. Suffolk would delay his advance no longer, but set out for Lincoln, and sent a message to Shrewsbury to do the same. He was obliged to advance slowly, as he took the ordnance with him[691]. He received from the King instructions to occupy Lincoln and to collect there the arms of the rebels[692]; with these orders came a proclamation by which the King accepted the surrender and promised to show mercy[693]. The gentlemen were to be examined, and their examinations returned in writing to the King; they might then be dismissed with good words, except the most culpable, who were to be sent up to London. Suffolk was to establish order in the shire, and to survey the Cathedral and the Close secretly, as the King thought of placing a garrison there, “to keep them in mind that their forefathers were traitors and for the keeping under of their posterity.” If the country submitted there was to be no pillaging, but four captains of Louth, three of Horncastle, and two of Caistor must be kept for execution. Suffolk might expect reinforcements, and was to remain at Lincoln until he received further orders. If all was quiet when he received this letter, he need not publish the proclamation, but the King “took the sending of the herald in good part,” for the people respected his coat and he could see more than an ordinary spy. Shrewsbury was to join Suffolk in examining the traitors, and then to disperse his troops and go quietly home, if all went well, but if there were further disturbances in Yorkshire, he was to advance at once to suppress them, taking with him the ordnance, as Suffolk could be supplied with more from Ampthill[694]. The order to Shrewsbury shows that the King was still over-confident. It was Shrewsbury’s rash advance, in obedience to it, which afterwards seriously embarrassed the position of the royal troops.

Suffolk sent forward the Admiral with an advance guard, and on Tuesday 17 October was himself at Lincoln. His sudden appearance put an end to the last plans of resistance which the rebels still cherished. Richard Cromwell said that the people of Lincoln were “as obstinate persons as ever I saw, who would scarce move their bonnets to my said lord, and probably would have withstood us if we had not stolen upon them.”[695] In his next despatches Suffolk explained to the King that the situation was not so secure as Henry had assumed in his first relief,—the country was still very much unsettled, and beacons were lighted and men assembled in harness on the least provocation. He had ordered the release of Milsent and Bellowe from Louth Tollbooth, but their jailor was obliged to promise that they should be restored on demand before the commons would let them go[696]. On Wednesday 18 October he sent Sir Francis Brian to make a full report to the King. Sir Francis reached Windsor next day, just as a reply was being drawn up to Suffolk’s previous letters, in which he was thanked for his diligence and promised money, ordnance and men, under the command of Sir Anthony Browne. If any further rising was attempted he must immediately attack Louth and “with all extremity destroy, burn and kill man, woman and child, the terrible example of all others.” Sir Francis, however, must have explained that if it came to fighting it was by no means certain that the terrible example would not be, so to speak, on the other foot, as Suffolk had only 3000 men of certain loyalty in the heart of a hostile country; the King’s postscript, therefore, took a milder tone. Sir John Thimbleby and the other gentlemen were to be told that he “minded nothing less (i.e. nothing was further from his thoughts) than their destruction.” All the gentlemen who would come in and serve the King might be promised safety from bodily hurt and the Duke’s intercession with the King; proclamation must be made that the multitude could obtain the same terms, if they would denounce their captains and give them up. The King also, at last, sent an answer to the commons’ petition which had been sent to him on the 9th. It was to be read openly, and he complacently added that he thought it was “so conceived as of itself to make them repent their follies and ask mercy without further tarrying.”[697] The answer was as follows:

“Answer to the Petitions of the Traitors and Rebels in Lincolnshire.

“First, We begin and make answer to the 4th and 6th articles, because upon them dependeth much of the rest. Concerning choosing of Councillors, I never have read, heard, nor known that princes’ councillors and prelates should be appointed by rude and ignorant common people; nor that they were persons meet, or of ability, to discern and choose meet and sufficient councillors for a prince. How presumptuous then are ye, the rude commons of one shire, and that one of the most brute and beastly of the whole realm, and of least experience, to find fault with your prince, for the electing of his councillors and prelates; and to take upon you, contrary to God’s law, and man’s law, to rule your prince, whom ye are bound by all laws to obey, and serve, with both your lives, lands, and goods, and for no worldly cause to withstand: the contrary whereof you, like traitors and rebels, have attempted, and not like true subjects, as ye name yourselves.

“As to the suppression of religious houses and monasteries, We will that ye, and all our subjects should well know, that this is granted us by all the nobles, spiritual and temporal, of this our realm, and by all the commons of the same by Act of Parliament; and not set forth by any councillor or councillors, upon their mere will and fantasy, as ye full falsely would persuade our realm to believe. And where ye allege, that the service of God is much thereby diminished, the truth thereof is contrary; for there be none houses suppressed, where God was well served, but where most vice, mischief, and abomination of living was used: and that doth well appear by their own confession, subscribed with their own hands, in the time of our visitations. And yet were suffered a great many of them, more than we by the act needed, to stand; wherein, if they amend not their living, we fear we have more to answer for, than for the suppression of all the rest. And as for their hospitality, for the relief of poor people, we wonder ye be not ashamed to affirm, that they have been a great relief to our people, when a great many, or the most part, hath not past four or five religious persons in them, and divers but one, which spent the substance of the goods of their house, in nourishing of vice, and abominable living. Now, what unkindness and unnaturality may we impute to you, and all our subjects, that be of that mind, that had lever such an unthrifty sort of vicious persons should enjoy such possessions, profits, and emoluments, as grow of the said houses, to the maintenance of their unthrifty life; than we, your natural prince, sovereign lord, and king, which doth and hath spent more in your defence, of his own, the six times they be worth!

“As touching the Act of Uses, we marvel what madness is in your brain, or upon what ground ye would take authority upon you, to cause us to break those laws and statutes, which, by all the nobles, knights, and gentlemen of this realm, whom the same chiefly toucheth, hath been granted and assented to; seeing in no manner of thing it toucheth you, the base commons of our realm! Also the grounds of those uses were false, and never admitted by any law, but usurped upon the prince, contrary to all equity and justice, as it hath been openly both disputed and declared, by all the well learned men of England in Westminster Hall; whereby ye may well perceive, how mad and unreasonable your demands be, both in that, and the rest, and how unmeet it is for us, and dishonourable, to grant or assent unto, and less meet and decent for you, in such rebellious sort, to demand the same of your prince.

“As touching the Fifteenth, which ye demand of us to be released, think ye that we be so faint hearted, that, perforce, ye of one shire (were ye a great many more) could compel us with your insurrections, and such rebellious demeanour, to remit the same? or think ye that any man will or may take you to be true subjects, that first make a show of a loving grant, and then, perforce, would compel your sovereign lord and king to release the same; the time of payment whereof is not yet come? yea, and seeing the same will not countervail the tenth penny of the charges, which we do, and daily must, sustain, for your tuition and safeguard? Make ye sure, by your occasions of this your ingratitudes, unnaturalness, and unkindness to us, now administered, ye give us cause, which hath always been as much dedicate to your wealths, as ever was king, not so much to set our study for the setting forward of the same, seeing how unkindly and untruly ye deal now with us, without any cause or occasion. And doubt ye not, though ye have no grace nor naturalment in you, to consider your duties of allegiance to your king and sovereign; the rest of our realm, we doubt not, hath: and we, and they, shall so look on this cause, that we trust shall be to your confusion, if, according to our former letters, ye submit not yourselves.

“As touching the First Fruits, we let you weet, it is a thing granted us by Act of Parliament also, for the supportation of part of the great and excessive charges, which we support and bear, for the maintenance of your wealths, and others our subjects. And we have known, also, that ye, our commons, have much complained, in times passed, that the most of the goods, lands, and possessions of the realm were in the spiritual men’s hands; and yet now, bearing us in hand that ye be as loving subjects to us as may be, ye can not find in your hearts that your prince and sovereign lord should have any part thereof, (and yet it is nothing prejudicial unto you, our commons;) but do rebel and unlawfully rise against your prince, contrary to your duty of allegiance, and God’s commandment. Wherefore, sirs, remember your follies and traitorous demeanours, and shame not your native country of England, nor offend no more, so grievously, your undoubted king and natural prince, which always hath showed himself most loving unto you; and remember your duty of allegiance, and that ye are bound to obey us, your king, both by God’s commandment and law of nature. Wherefore we charge you eftsoons, upon the forsaid bonds and pains, that ye withdraw yourselves to your own houses every man, and no more assemble contrary to our laws and your allegiances; and to cause the provokers of you to this mischief to be delivered to our lieutenants’ hands, or ours, and you yourselves to submit you to such condign punishment as we, and our nobles, shall think you worthy. For doubt ye not else that we and our nobles can nor will suffer this injury at your hand unrevenged, if ye give not place to us your sovereign, and show yourselves as bounden and obedient subjects, and no more to intermeddle yourselves from henceforth with the weighty affairs of the realm; the direction whereof only appertaineth to us your king, and such noblemen and councillors as he list to elect and choose to have the ordering of the same. And thus we pray unto Almighty God to give you grace to do your duties, and to use yourselves towards us like true and faithful subjects, so as we may have cause to order you thereafter; and rather obediently to consent amongst you to deliver into the hands of our lieutenant 100 persons, to be ordered according to their demerits at our will and pleasure, than by your obstinacy and wilfulness to put yourselves, lives, wives, children, lands, goods, and chattels, besides the indignation of God, in the utter adventure of total destruction and utter ruin by force and violence of the sword.”[698]

So ended the insurrection in Lincolnshire, for there is nothing more to tell of it but the King’s revenge. It was a most curious movement, both in its sudden outbreak and its still more sudden collapse. It is not surprising that it should have been attempted, but it is that it should have failed so completely. The secret of this failure seems to be twofold. The most obvious weakness was that it had no leader. Perhaps it would have been better if the commons had trusted solely to their own leaders, Captain Cobbler, William Morland, and the others. Knowing that they were committed to the cause, they gave themselves up to it heart and soul, while the gentlemen upon whom the commons attempted to force the responsibility were at best only half-hearted. But the lack of a leader was only a symptom of their real weakness, namely, that they had no definite object in view. The rising was not simply religious, or agrarian, or political, but a little of each. It was as much against an unpopular tax and an unpopular bishop as against the King’s religious policy and his chief minister. The rebels protested against the dissolution of the monasteries, but the vital question of the Royal Supremacy was only mentioned once, and then the rebels expressed their willingness to acknowledge the title[699]. The gentlemen hated Cromwell and the Statute of Uses, but they wavered on the question of the abbeys, and were very much afraid of the commons and of civil war. These jarring forces could only be united into an effective opposition by the inspiration of a great leader or a great cause; this was the lesson which the Lincolnshire failure taught, and one man at least learnt from it. In many respects the earlier rising was a hindrance to the Pilgrimage of Grace,—it gave confidence to the government, and confirmed the waverers in the conviction that the King would win in the end,—but his connection with it showed Robert Aske what to avoid. He saw that half-hearted leaders were worse than useless, and he saw also that the only common ground on which all parties could meet was that of religion. Himself sincerely attached to the old faith, he insisted on it as the cause and the sole cause of the insurrection which he led; hence the curious form of his oath—“we rise not for the common weal, but in defence of the Church.” His banner did not bear the motley crowd of symbols which the men of Horncastle devised, but simply the Five Wounds of Christ. If he could inspire in others the enthusiasm which he himself felt for that badge, they would lose sight of their conflicting interests, and gentlemen and commons would fight side by side, without thought of high or low. This was what Robert Aske learnt from the Lincolnshire rebellion. It remained to be seen whether he could put it into practice.