Part 12

The ladies are much shorter in stature than the knight, and the probability is they all occupied separate tombs, which stood in the side chapels originally existing attached to the antient chancel, before it fell down and was rebuilt at the time the body of the second Marquis was discovered, at the end of the seventeenth century.

The knight is apparently the earlier effigy of the three, probably dating about 1480-90, the lady with the coronet next, or about contemporary, and the lady in the pyramidal head-dress considerably the latest, as shewn by her costume, which would accord very nearly with that worn at the era of Cicely Bonville's death.

Sir Edward Grey, uncle to Thomas Grey, first Marquis of Dorset, married Elizabeth, sister and heir of Thomas Talbot, Viscount L'Isle. 15 Edward IV. he was created Baron, and 1 Richard III. Viscount L'Isle, died in 1492, and bequeathed his body to be buried in the new chapel of Our Lady, begun to be built by himself in the College of Astley, where the body of his late wife Elizabeth lay interred. His daughter Muriel was the first wife of Henry Stafford, Earl of Wiltshire, second husband of Cicely Bonville. A guess may be hazarded that these figures represent Sir Edward Grey and his wife Elizabeth.

Before we close our account of the Bonville and Grey memorials, we propose to include--from its uniqueness of example--another remembrance to a presumed second-cousin of the Lady Cicely, that we discovered among the fine series of bench-ends in a visit to the little church of Barwick, near Yeovil, on our way back from Limington. It is one of a pair in the chancel, almost alike, the only difference being--and here note the evident purpose conveyed in all mediæval symbolism--that one shield, the earliest in the succession is suspended by a guige from _a hawthorn tree in blossom_, and the later one from _a hawthorn tree in fruit_. The arms on the first are, dexter, quarterly of four:--1 and 4. _On a chief a fleur-de-lys, in base a mullet pierced_ (ROGERS).--2 and 3. _Fretty, and a chief_ (ECHYNGHAM); impaling,--_In chief quarterly, 1 and 4, six roundels, 2 and 3, three camels; in base, guttée_ (----?). On the second bench-end are ROGERS and ECHYNGHAM, quarterly as before, impaling COURTENAY and DE REDVERS quarterly.

"The family of Roger or Rogers," says Mr. Batten, "whose chief seat was at Bryanstone, Dorset, held Barwick for six generations, extending to the latter part of the reign of Queen Elizabeth." John Rogers married Anne, daughter of Thomas de Echyngham, Lord of Echyngham in Sussex. His grandson Sir John, married presumably--for singularly her name does not as yet appear to be identified in the pedigree--Elizabeth, daughter of Sir William Courtenay of Powderham, who died in 1512, by his wife Cicely, daughter of Sir John Cheney of Pinhoe.

Sir William Courtenay's mother was Margaret Bonville, daughter of Lord William Bonville, and so great-aunt to Cicely Bonville, and Elizabeth Rogers of the Barwick panel, was her second cousin.

They were buried at Bryanstone, and on the floor of the chancel of that church, without the rails, says Hutchins, "on the gravestone are the brass effigies of a man and a woman kneeling and their hands elevated. Over are the arms of Rogers and Echyngham quarterly, and under the woman, Rogers impaling Courtenay, and this inscription:--

=Of your charitie pray for the soules of John Rogers esquyer and Elizabeth his wyfe which John decessed the day of in the ye'r md^c and Elizabeth decessed the first day of October in the ye'r of our Lord m d^c xviii on whose soules J'hu have m'cy=

on other bench-ends at Barwick are the initials W. H. and date 1533, probably for William Hooper, patron of the benefice at that time. The date of the Limington bench-ends is almost contemporary."

A round-about digression, you will say, gentle reader, but how interesting is it, thus in our little pilgrimage, to connect the relationship of these old sculptures, and make their personal history live again; verily, if there be any charm belonging to these researches into the past, herein it is found.

Of the early inheritances of the Bonvilles, Wiscombe, and Shute, on the attainder of the Duke of Suffolk both fell to the Crown, and Queen Mary granted them to her Secretary, Sir William Petre.

Wiscombe, toward the end of the sixteenth century, appears to have been the residence of Robert Drake, Esq., probably under grant from the descendants of Sir William Petre. He was the son of John Drake, Esq., of Ashe, Musbury, who died 4 Oct., 1558, by his wife Amy daughter of Roger Grenville, Esq., of Stow, who died 18 Feb., 1577-8. He married Elizabeth--daughter of Humphrey Prideaux of Theuborough, north Devon, who died 8 May, 1550, by his wife Joan daughter of Richard Fowell, of Fowells-combe, in south Devon,--by whom he left a large family.

William, the eldest son, was of Wiscombe. He married Philippa, sister of Sir Thomas Denys, died in 1619, leaving six children, of whom Thomas the eldest succeeded him at Wiscombe, and died in 1661.

Henry was of Childhay, an old picturesque seat in the parish of Broad-Winsor, Dorset. This he acquired by his marriage with Amy, daughter of John Crukerne, of Childhay, and widow of Sir Arthur Champernowne, of Modbury, Devon. He died in 1640.

Nicholas, a pensioner of James I., died 1640. He married Jane, daughter of William Tothill, "youngest of thirty-three children," she died 1622.

Robert, a colonel in the army, together with Humphrey his brother, a captain, were both killed at Ostend early in 1604.

Bernard, also described as of Wiscombe, married Elizabeth Densloe, and John, died without issue. Three of the daughters were named Gertrude, Ursula, and Amy.

The old historian, Westcote, thus refers to the untimely death of these soldier-brothers,--

"Wiscombe; where liveth a generous family of Drake; of which race there were lately two brothers, (besides others) Robert and Henry: (the sons of Robert:) the first, a colonel of much worth and esteem with the Prince of Orange in the Netherlands; and the other a captain: both taken away in the flower of their age: a great grief to their friends and loss to their country."

And Risdon, his contemporary, adds in almost similar words,--

"Here (Wiscombe) now inhabits a generous tribe of the Drakes, of which, besides other brothers, were Robert and Henry, the sons of Robert; the first a colonel in the Netherlands, of great esteem with the Prince of Orange and the States, of his valour, who in all his actions was said to make use of the spur of courage, and the reins of judgment; the other a captain, of much hope, both taken away in the flower of their age, in defence of Ostend, to the great grief of their friends, and loss of their country."

The monument of Robert Drake, the father of these unfortunate men,--and who was mercifully prevented by death from experiencing the great trial of their early decease,--occurs on the north side of the chancel of Southleigh church. It is of Ionic character with arabesque ornamentation, and bears the following inscription,--

ARMIGER AURATUS ROBERTUS NOMINE DRACUS HIC JACET ILLE PIUS PAUPERIBUSQUE BONUS SEPTE GNATOS FRUGI ET GNATAS QUINQUE VENUSTAS PARTURIIT CONJUX ELIZABETHA SIBI OBIIT 1600. MARCH 30.

Thus translated,--"_An ennobled Esquire; Robert Drake by name, lies here, one who feared God and remembered the poor; his wife Elizabeth bore him seven thrifty sons and five comely daughters. Died 30 March, 1600._"

Below are five shields:--1. _A wyvern with wings displayed_ (DRAKE), impaling _A chevron enhanced by a fleur-de-lys and charged with two_ _roundels, between three crescents._--2. GRENVILLE.--3. _A chevron charged with a mullet, a label of three_ (PRIDEAUX).--4. _Ermine, three battle-axes in pale_ (Denys).--5. _A fess between three fleurs-de-lys._

Robert Drake was the brother of Sir Bernard of Ashe, who died of jail fever in 1586, and of Richard Drake of Esher, who died in 1603.[16]

[16] A portrait of this Richard Drake, painted by Zucchero, was shewn in London at the Tudor Exhibition of 1890. Described as "Three-quarter length, life-size, to left, in black armour, ornamented with gold, white ruffs on neck and wrists, black jewelled cap with plumes, gold chain of several strings passing over right shoulder; right hand on hip, left rests on sword hilt, helmet with plumes on table. Below a shield of arms in the back ground, the motto "_Tousiours prest a seruir_"; and this inscription "AN^O DNI 1577. ÆTATIS SUÆ 42." He was one of the Esquires of Queen Elizabeth, from whom he received the grant of the Stewardship of the Courts and Leets within the Manor of Woking, with the Mastership of the Game there. He was also Lord of the Manor of Esher, and in September 1600, had the honour of entertaining the Queen at dinner at the Manor House of Esher, where he resided, and where he had from 1588 to 1593 accommodated certain notable Spanish prisoners of war, including Don Pedro de Valdez, and other officers of high rank in the Spanish Armada, with their suites of attendants. They had been captured by Sir Francis Drake, and at his instance remitted to the keeping of Richard Drake at Esher. He died in 1603."

The Wiscombe estate appears to have remained in the possession of the Petre family, until disposed of by Lord Petre in 1794, to Mr. J. M. How.

Speaking of Wiscombe, Risdon says,--

"It some time belonged to the priory of Otterton, which was in the time of K. Hen. 3., by the prior granted unto sir Nicholas Bonvile, kt., which he made his dwelling, and had here a large park for deer, not long since disparked by the Lord Petre whose inheritance it now is."

And Westcote, albeit with no special genealogical accuracy, thus soliloquises,--

"This place is memorable for being the habitation of Lord Bonvile, an unfortunate man: (for unwise I dare not nor may not term him:) yet this may I say by the way, good fortune and wisdom, folly and ill-fortune or mischance, go masked, and that very often under one hood; yea, unmasked do so near resemble one the other, that they are hardly known or rightly distinguished (by those that look them directly in the face) each from other, and therefore one bears very often the other's faults, and on the contrary one steals away the other's praise and commendation; which is truly avered by Athenæus, when he saith,

'Longissime a sapientia sors dissidet Sed multa perfecit tamen simillima.'

Seldom the traitor, though much haste he make, Lame-footed vengeance fails to overtake.

The extreme mischief succeeded; first his only son was taken from him by untimely death, and his nephew (the third William, Lord Harrington by his mother's right,) slain at the battle of Wakefield; and immediately after (that his old age might want no kind of misery,) while he waited still and long expected better days, himself was taken (at the battle of St. Alban's,) prisoner, and having now run out his full and long course of nature, could not yet come to the grave in peace, but lost his head; leaving behind him for heir, Cicely, his grandson's daughter; a damsel of tender years, who brought a large and rich inheritance to Thomas Grey, Marquis of Dorset, half-brother, by the mother, to king Edward V."

Wiscombe, although disparked by the Petres, and all the old forest trees swept away; their successors in its possession have in comparatively late years planted the hill-sides of the estate with large breadths of the _conifera_; these have flourished with great luxuriance, and it would be difficult at present to find a more richly wooded landscape than it exhibits. The different habits of the trees, fringed and interspersed with those of the ordinary species, form a delightful contrast, especially when clothed in all the varying tints that give such charm to the

AUTUMNAL HOURS.

The quiet Autumn hours,--so cool and calm, When the bright sun hath stayed his blazing wheels, And o'er the earth there seems to steal a balm Of peace full-satisfied, as the heart feels When after some strong fight, and conquest won That brings no grief,--we rest and count the spoil, Rich with the crowned content of something done, Forgetful of the conflict and the toil.

How blessed comes each change;--with sobering tints The fading flowers have to rich fruitage turned, The golden leaves lit with faint sunny glints, Flame mid the dews like patient martyrs burned,-- The robin pipes his lay,--the bee speeds home,-- And o'er the soul a sweet repose doth come.

Shute also became the property of Secretary Petre, "from whom," says the Antiquary, "my father had the howse and park, and dwelled theire duringe his lief, and left it unto mee, and my eldest son John Pole holdeth it from mee"; it is now held by his descendant, the ninth baronet.

Once more we are back in Southleigh churchyard in the Wiscombe valley, from which our footsteps originally set out to thread the mazes of our imperfectly told but eventful history. We look into the little church for traces of Bonville, but nothing is visible, reflecting their memory in this their earliest home. A few years since in clearing the foundations of an old picturesque cottage, not far from the church, some fragments of sculpture, of Perpendicular character, were found, being part of a cornice of rich vine-tracery, together with scrolls, and winged angels holding shields, canopies of niches, panelled shafting, the emblem of St. Luke, &c.,--the colours and gilding still fresh on them. These were apparently portions of the antient reredos, and from their rich character, were probably relics of the taste and munificence of the Bonvilles; or of their last descendant "that devout woman Cecilia, Marchioness of Dorset, Lady de Bonville, and Haryngton," the patron of numerous benefices in Devon, and other counties; and generous benefactor toward the ornamentation, repair, or additions to, the various parish churches in which her extensive possessions were situate. Pleasing remembrances, left to attest her memory, and which still stand out in grateful relief, long after the turbulent scenes of treachery and bloodshed amid which they found their existence, have passed away; for is it not written,--

"The meek shall inherit the land; And shall delight themselves in the abundance of peace."

One further circumstance, referable only to the realms of conjecture, but unique in its way, detains us a minute, as we turn to leave the village graveyard. Just outside the chancel is a high-tomb, commemorating the burial of _Henry Willoughby, 28 Sept., 1616_.[17] At its end is the grand escutcheon of Willoughby de Eresby, with _crescent for difference_. It has not yet been explained who he was, or how he found sepulchre here. We remember that Anne, younger daughter of Thomas Grey, second Marquis of Dorset, and so grand-daughter to Cicely Bonville, married Henry Willoughby, of Wollaton, Nottinghamshire, which would not be far from the home of the Willoughbies de Eresby in Lincolnshire. Is this the memorial of her husband? The date would accord with the presumption.

[17] See page 35.

Here we conclude this desultory outline of the history of Bonville, and as our feet make homeward, many thoughts haunt us over the marvels--for they are nothing less--that fill its phases of human relation. In the middle of its recital, which concluded with the untimely death of Lord Bonville, we said it was a relief to turn aside from the atrocities mingled with the strife of the Roses. In its continuation, for a while, under the more settled rule of Tudor, there were comparatively fewer horrors to chronicle, but the union of the royal houses, emblemed by the rival flowers, was cemented with blood, its ghastly trail followed into the spirit of the new dynasty, and gathering strength as the three generations of Grey passed, culminated at length in a tragedy for size and importance unsurpassed in the annals of our national history. Its last representative, although a subject only, had wedded the grand-daughter of one, and cousin of another of the reigning Kings, and who had herself also been a Queen in her own right. Here the topmost pinnacle of alliance with the highest worldly station had been reached, but only to experience the fate of that often-witnessed terrific downfall, which follows the promptings engendered by the unsatisfied ambition of attaining to such dangerous altitude. Within three short years, three headless dukes--of foremost station in their native land, and allied to each other by ties of relationship--passed from the scaffold on Tower Hill to obscure and unmarked graves in the little Chapel of that fortress; and with them went also, after experiencing the same terrible ordeal, following her youthful husband, a young and guileless victim, almost the sole representative of the new stock, into which the last tender branch of the extinct house of Bonville had been engraffed.

Enough, sayest thou, friend of mine, of this harrowing relation;--quite so,--our story is ended. Life was indeed intended for happier results than these, and how much better the simple delights, enjoyments and pleasures of unenvied station, that in their possession are ever

"Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne;"

and unsmote by the glamour of the basilisk Ambition, whose fascination lives on the ever unsatisfied desire for fame or station, until often, when too late and past recall, the illusion vanishes as the victim disappears over the verge of the unseen, treacherous precipice of irretrievable ruin.

The shadows grow deeper between the hedgerows as we saunter homeward, a dewy mist is settling down the valley, and a cheery glint salutes us here and there from the cottage windows as we pass along. Listen! What melody do we hear, with greeting so soft and soothing? Aye, artless as it is, that, which in this world, for sweetness knows no rival, even

A MOTHER'S SONG.

'Tis eve, and dusky twilight falls; Here is a home that men call poor, A glimmer lights its humble walls, A strain comes through its half-closed door; Sweet as from Sappho's soul might spring, Song, none but mother's voice may sing.

Look through the casement dim and old, A shadow fronts the ingle's glow, Whose arms a tiny form enfold, Sits gently rocking to and fro; With cadence measured to its swing, Comes song that mothers only sing.

Her tears fall on the baby's brow, Too full her heart with very joy, Hark! with her voice is blending now, The sleepy murmurs of her boy; Faint--fainter--hushed and slumbering, By song but mother's lips may sing.

Why bends, O friend, thy brow with thought, At glimpse of Paradise so fair? Doth memory fill thy heart unsought With echo, whose 'divine despair' Brings sadness past imagining? Song that thy mother used to sing!

O soft sweet voice, O simple strain, Where love ne'er bids the measure cease, Until the charm of its refrain, Lulls the complaining soul to peace; Come back again on angel wing, O song my mother used to sing!

It may not be, earth hath one heaven, Our childhood's days, a mother's care, When life is o'er, will other given Restore to us these joys so rare? Yes, and its pure delight shall bring, The songs our mothers used to sing.

UNDER THE HOOF OF THE WHITE BOAR.

The fair, busy, if not large city of New Sarum or Salisbury, has since its foundation, occupied an important place in our national history, resulting from the heritage of its natural position, which may be described as forming the Gate or Key to the peninsula of the West. Besides this, it is the inheritor of, and is associated with, some of the oldest traditions of the land before the pen of history has left record, the venerable fame of previous ages having descended and added distinguished interest to its surroundings, while the marvellous circle of Stonehenge finds its place close by, as also its own antient progenitor, the equally remarkable hill-fortressed city of Old Sarum,--circumstances that attest the importance in which the locality was regarded, wherein its city of to-day is situate.

Succeeding events have also added their witness to this distinction. The foundation and building of its beautiful and unique Cathedral, begun, completed, and finished in one harmonious design, without let or hindrance, and the afterward crowning it with the magnificent spire, the finest in the kingdom, and with very doubtful rivalry elsewhere,--its notable succession of bishops,--and the number of distinguished personages, who through the following centuries down to these present days, have held high rule as statesmen and administrators in our land, who have sought the privilege of having its name as an affix to their titles of honour, Longspée, Montacute, Nevill, and Cecil,--have interwoven and sustained the claim of its reputation into almost every period of our national annals.

Yet, notwithstanding the importance of its position, it is singular, no very important or striking incident connected with the national government, such as has made famous many other localities, has occurred within, or immediately near it. The reasons for this may not be far to seek. The sea coasts on either side of it offered facilities for martial transit or commercial enterprise, which Salisbury could not possess, and so the tide of action, as a rule, passed at a distance, but its great advantages as a central position for the purposes of _rendez-vous_, warlike or otherwise, have always been used and made available.

Lying on the high road between London and the Land's End, it has naturally received many royal visits, from that of the young king Henry III., at the consecration of the cathedral in 1225, downward, at divers times and on various errands, civil, military, or with darker and sanguinary intent to take vengeance on their enemies; and it is the result of one of these vindictive errands that brought a king to Salisbury, and the circumstances preceding and following it, that form the basis of our homely narrative.

Of the very antient and illustrious family of Stafford, whose origin is contemporary with the Conqueror, for the purposes of our little history the first we need mention is Thomas Stafford, fourth Baron and third Earl of that name, who lived in the reign of Richard II. He allied himself with a lady of direct royal descent, Anne Plantagenet, eldest daughter of Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester, sixth son of king Edward III., by his wife Eleanor, eldest daughter and coheir of Humphrey de Bohun, the last Earl of Hereford, Essex, and Northampton, who died in 1372.

Mary, the other daughter and coheir of Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Essex, &c., as aforesaid, was married to Henry Plantagenet, Earl of Derby, eldest son of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, fourth son of king Edward III., who was successively created Earl and Duke of Hereford, and ultimately ascended the throne as Henry IV., surnamed 'of Bolingbroke.'