Part 5

The causes of the deposition and death of Richard were his weak character and his obnoxious mode of government, through favourites and evil advisers, which were accelerated by the ambition and revenge of his cousin Henry, Duke of Hereford, son of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. The Duke of Hereford had a quarrel with Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, each accusing the other of treason, and the King consented that the matter should be decided by combat at Coventry, but when the lists were opened and the combatants mounted, lance in hand, ready to commence the fight, the King commanded them to desist, and arbitrarily condemned Norfolk to banishment from the realm for life, and Hereford for ten years, the latter being granted the privilege of taking possession, through his attorney, of any inheritances that might fall to him during his absence. Whilst he was abroad his father, the Duke of Lancaster, died, and the King, in violation of his promise, took possession of his widely-spread lands in Yorkshire and elsewhere, including Leeds, Kippax, Almondbury, and many another manor in the county. Henry, now Duke of Lancaster, had speedy intelligence of this from his attorney, and gathering a few followers together, took shipping for England, and landed at Ravenspurn, in Holderness, at the mouth of the Humber. His ostensible motive in coming to England, and perhaps his real intention, was simply to obtain possession of his inheritance, with, possibly, some vague ideas of vengeance for his banishment. But, as he passed through Yorkshire, he was joined by the Percies and other powerful families, who welcomed him back to England, and the people flocked round his standard, so that when he approached London he found himself at the head of a considerable army, and then he threw off his disguise, and proclaimed that he had come to deliver the kingdom from the evil advisers of the Crown. The King had gone to Ireland to subdue an insurrection, and had left the Earl of Wiltes as guardian of the realm, who, on hearing of the march of Lancaster towards London, fled, with others, to Bristol, hoping to join the King there on his return from Ireland. The Duke followed them thither, laid siege to the castle, "where at length," says Walsingham, "William le Scrope, John Busby, and Henry Grene, were taken prisoners, and they were forthwith, on the morrow, beheaded, at the outcry of the populace." The Duke had now fully resolved upon striking for the Crown, although he was not the legitimate heir, even if Richard were removed, and it was his usurpation which gave rise to the subsequent War of the Roses. In furtherance of his project, he considered it desirable to win over the citizens of London, and in order to conciliate those who were opposed to the favourites, and terrify those who were friendly to the King and his government, he sent thither the heads of Scrope, Busby, and Grene, in a basket, with a letter, in which he said--"I beg of you to let me know if you will be on my side or not, and I care not which, for I have people enough to fight all the world for one day. But take in good part the present I have sent you," etc. This produced the effect he wished for, as the Londoners at once espoused his cause. The King was soon after captured, sent to Pontefract Castle, and there murdered, after a formal deposition; and Henry, with the consent of Parliament, assumed the crown. He called a Parliament together, who, in the first year of his reign, passed an Act of Attainder and Confiscation against the Earl of Wiltes and other of Richard's friends; and it was assumed that the earldom thus became extinct, although legally it only became dormant, and presents one of the most curiously complicated and interesting cases that ever came before the Court of Heralds or the House of Lords, paralleled only, perhaps, in interest by the famous Scrope-Grosvenor heraldic dispute, between Sir Richard Scrope, the Earl's father, and Sir Robert Grosvenor, as to the right to bear "azure a bend or" on their shields of arms, in which 400 witnesses of the highest rank appeared in evidence.

The patent of the Earldom was thus made out:--"We, considering the probity, the wise and provident circumspection, and the illustriousness of manners and birth of our beloved and trusty William le Scrope, Chevalier, and willing deservedly to exalt him by the prerogative of honour, do create him in Parliament to be Earl of Wiltes; and do invest him with the style, name, and honour of the place aforesaid, by the girding of the sword, to have to him and his heirs-male for ever. And in order that the Earl and his heirs aforesaid, for the decency of so great a name and honour, may be the better and the more honourably able to support the burdens incumbent on the same, of our special grace we have given and granted, and by this charter confirm, to the Earl and his heirs aforesaid, £20 to be received every year out of the issues of the county of Wilton, by the hands of the sheriff of the county for ever." The patent was made out in this way, with remainder to his heirs-male, because, although married, he had no issue by whom it might descend lineally, and it would thus pass downward in the family through his collateral heirs, his brothers or their children. In 1859, Simon Thomas Scrope, of Danby, claimed the dormant Earldom, as heir-general of the grantee, on the ground that the attainder was invalid, and the case occupied the consideration of the House of Lords for ten years. In the first place, the question arose whether by "heirs-general," collateral descendants were meant, which was decided in the affirmative, and the claimant then proved to the satisfaction of the House that he was the heir-general. It was then contended that the attainder was invalid, as taking up arms in defence of a reigning Sovereign could not by any possibility be construed into treason; but, on the other hand, it was argued that the attainder was legal, as it was an Act of the first Parliament called by Henry. But it was shown that before Henry's assumption of the crown, whilst the King was in captivity, he made grants of the Earl's lands and goods in the name of the King, using Richard's name and seal for the purpose, as he did also in issuing writs for the summoning of a new Parliament, which were ante-dated so as to appear to have been issued by the King, and this Parliament it was which passed the Act of the Attainder. "This, of course," as Elsynge says, "was entirely illegal, for as the Earl had been illegally executed, without the pretence, or the possibility of a pretence, of any legal charge or lawful trial, there could be nothing to affect the legal rights which devolved upon his heirs, and a murder could hardly create a forfeiture." Further, it was shown that all the attainders of the Parliament of Henry were reversed by the first Parliament of Edward IV., therefore, even if the attainder had been perfectly legal, it became null and void by the subsequent reversal, and consequently the title was now lying dormant, and belonged to the heir-general of Sir William Scrope. This seems to be very simple, clear, and logical, but the Lords of the nineteenth century thought otherwise, and gave their decision that an Act of Parliament of the fourteenth century should be held to be valid, simply because it was an Act of Parliament, even although reversed by a subsequent Act, and that, consequently, the claim could not be admitted. The legitimate heir to the Earldom is, therefore, debarred from enjoying his title. But if the principle which operated adversely to his claim were to be set in motion retrospectively, many a proud coronet, even amongst those who voted against the claim, would fall to the ground.

It has been said by some authorities that Sir William was not the son of Richard, first Baron Scrope of Bolton, but his nephew, and son of Henry, first Baron Scrope of Masham.

He purchased, _circa_ 1393, of William de Montacute, the sovereignty of the Isle of Man, the lord of the island at that time possessing the right of being crowned and styled king, although subject to the King of England.

At the time of the execution of the Earl, his brother Richard was Archbishop of York, who is represented by Walsingham, as having been "a pious and devout man, incomparably learned, of singular integrity, and of a goodly and amiable personage," and was so grieved at the murder of his brother, and so exasperated against the usurper Bolingbroke, that he entered into conspiracy with the Earl of Northumberland, who had been alienated from the King, and had lost his son (Hotspur) at the battle of Shrewsbury, and with Mowbray, Earl of Norfolk, son of the banished Earl, to dethrone King Henry. The standard of revolt, emblazoned with the five wounds of Christ, was raised at Shipton, near York, around which 20,000 Yorkshiremen ranged themselves. The Archbishop imprudently made known his intentions too openly, by fixing papers to church doors, charging the King with usurpation, perjury, sacrilege, and murder; by sending circulars to other counties calling upon the people to take up arms for his dethronement; and preaching three sermons denouncing him as a _pseudo_ King, and a traitor to his sovereign. The King, of course, soon heard of these proceedings, and sent Prince John, afterwards Duke of Bedford, and the Earl of Westmoreland, with 30,000 men, to put down the insurrection. They found the conspirators so securely entrenched in the forest of Galtres that they deemed it most prudent to resort to a stratagem. By means of flattery and false promises they allured the Archbishop from his shelter, and immediately arrested him for high treason, taking him first to Pontefract and then to Bishopthorpe. The King directed the famous Judge Gascoigne to try and sentence him, who refused, saying that a Peer must be tried by his Peers. Judge Fulthorpe, who was less scrupulous, was then appointed, and, with scarcely the formality of a trial, condemned him to death. "Presently after, he was set upon an ill-favoured jade, his face towards its tail, and was carried with great scorn to a field hard by, where his head was stricken off by a fellow that did his office very ill, not being able to decapitate with less than five strokes." He was looked upon as a martyr by the people, who flocked in crowds to pray at his tomb and place of execution, which was forbidden by the King by proclamation, and the Pope excommunicated all who were concerned in his death. (See "The Loyal Martyr, 1722." Maydestone's "History of the Martyrdom of Archbishop Scrope." "A Narrative of the Decollation of Archbishop Scrope, by Thos. Gascoigne, D.D.," in MS. in the Bod. Lib.; and "A Declaration of Archbishop Scrope against the Government of Henry IV." in Ang. Sec., vol. 2.)

Black-faced Clifford.

Thomas, eighth Baron Clifford, is said by genealogists to have been born in 1414, and that he was forty years of age when he fell at St. Alban's; but he must have been nearer fifty than forty, as his son John, ninth Baron, was born in 1430, when he would be but sixteen years of age; but marriages were contracted early then. His daughter, Elizabeth, was married at six years of age to Sir William Plumpton, who, dying soon after, she was re-married to his brother, her father stipulating that "they should not ligge together" until she had arrived at the age of eighteen. He was a portly, soldierly-looking figure, with a commanding presence, and a tone of voice calculated to ensure obedience to his commands. He had spent the greater part of his life, since the dawn of manhood, in the wars of France; was greatly applauded for his capture of Pontoise by a clever stratagem, in 1438, and two years afterwards won equal admiration for the skill and bravery with which he defended it against the troops of King Charles VII., and in 1445, he was entrusted with the high honour of escorting to England, Margaret of Anjou, the bride of Henry VI.

John, his son, was somewhat different, possessing neither the martial figure, the open countenance, nor the genial manner of his father. His frame was more slenderly proportioned, his face presented rather a scowl than a smile, and his temperament inclined to a moroseness and brooding, which rendered him cruel in war and disagreeable amongst his private friends.

It was a beautiful May morning in the year 1455; the sun was shining brightly in the Vale of Craven. Breakfast was spread in the great hall of the castle of the Cliffords. On the daïs at the upper end, sat, at the cross table, Thomas, Lord Clifford, and his wife, the Lady Joan, a daughter of Thomas, Lord Dacre, of Gillesland; his son John, with his wife, Margaret, daughter of Henry Bromflete; Baron Vesey; and the Prior of Bolton, who had come over on his mule to be present on this occasion. Down the centre of the hall stretched the long table of oaken planks resting on trestles, with benches on each side, on which were seated the knights of the fees of Skipton, esquires, the priests of the chapel, the secretary, the treasurer, the seneschal, the constable, and other of the higher officials of the castle, with others of meaner degree, all ranged higher or lower, above or below the salt, according to their rank. The tables were loaded with substantial fare--huge joints of beef, mutton, brawn, and venison; saltfish, fresh herrings, and eels, with manchetts of bread in trenchers, interspersed with foaming flagons of ale and pewter tankards of sack. There was rudely cooked plenty, and keen appetites to overlook the deficiency of delicacies.

The conversation on the daïs turned upon the great topic of the day--the manifest aspiration of Richard, Duke of York, to the Crown of England, and the deposition of the imbecile and monkish-minded King Henry VI. Henry of Bolingbroke, son of John of Gaunt, fourth son of Edward, had usurped the throne of his cousin, Richard II., and had been succeeded by his son, Henry V., and his grandson, Henry VI., which usurpation gave rise to the desolating War of the Roses, now breaking out, and it could not be denied that Richard had a better claim, as the representative, through Anne, his mother, of the Duke of Clarence, than Henry had, as representative of the Duke of Lancaster.

"The summons from the King arrived a week ago," said Lord Clifford in reply to the Prior, "and you will perceive, Holy Father, that I have lost no time in obeying it."

"And a fine body of men you have gathered together," said the Prior, "the flower of Craven, whom it would be difficult to match for rude bravery and devotion to the will of their lord."

"True," replied Clifford, "but we have opposed to us the men of the Vale of Mowbray, under the Duke of Norfolk, and the stout men-at-arms of Middleham, the followers of Warwick and Salisbury, all Yorkshiremen, not less obstinately brave than those of Craven, to say nothing of the Durham retainers of the Nevilles from Raby. But then we shall have the powerful assistance of the Percys, with their troops from Topcliffe and Leckonfield and Wressle, so that it must be a fierce and bloody contest. I count but little upon the men of the south and the west of England; it will be the valour of the north which shall decide it."

"Indeed, my lord," answered the Prior, "I foresee a long and bloody war, when such powerful competitors are pitted against each other, and I mourn over the thousands of desolated homesteads in Merry England, as it is wont to be called; merry, alas! I fear not, for many a long day to come."

"Have you had any further tidings, sir," inquired the younger Clifford, "of the movements of Richard of York?"

"Nothing," replied his father, "but that he has raised his standard on the borders of Wales, and is marching with his troops upon London, to demand justice upon Somerset; and further, I have received information that Salisbury, Warwick, and Mowbray, are hastening to join him. But we must not waste more time; we must perform a long march before sunset."

A short service was held, and mass said in the chapel before the leaders, by the Prior, and the head priest of the chapel extemporised a religious service in the courtyard to the soldiers, who stood bareheaded, and listened devoutly. In those days the lower classes, however rough and barbarous they might be, implicitly believed what was told them by the priests, without any dogmatic scruples whatever, believing that the shriving of the priest or monk cleared off all old scores of sin, and they might, without compunction, commence a fresh score; the sum and substance of their religion being to serve their feudal lord faithfully, accept the dogmas of the priest, and contribute according to their means to the money-chests of the Church and the monastery.

There was but scant leave-taking; the women of that time were so accustomed to parting with their husbands and sons for the French and Scottish wars, that they looked upon it as a matter of course. Outside the walls was a gathering of the wives, children, and sweethearts of the rank and file, with whom there were some tender leave-takings from those, so many of whom they would never more see, and who, despite their rough exterior, possessed within them hearts beating with affection and tenderness towards the cheerers of their cottage firesides.

The Royalists of Craven made but slow progress as they wended their way southward. It was not until after some ten days' marching along rough roads, entangled woods, the fording of rivers, and tramping through morasses, that Lord Clifford and the men of Craven found themselves on the borders of Hertfordshire. Here they met with a messenger from the King, with information that Henry and Somerset, with an army, small in number, but composed chiefly of nobles and knights, men of experience and valour, had come forth from London to meet the Yorkists, and would await Lord Clifford's arrival at Watford, bidding him to speed with all haste to that rendezvous. Lord Clifford and his son at this summons spurred on their chargers, leaving the troops to follow. They found the King occupying a house in the small town, and in conference with the Duke of Somerset, who had been nominated by the Queen to the Generalship-in-chief of the forces; they were admitted to the presence at once, and were cordially received by Henry, Lord Clifford being high in his favour. The Yorkshire contingent entered the town soon after, with their banners displayed and trumpets sounding, and pitched their tents alongside those of the King's army. A council of war was called in the evening, and Lord Clifford had the gratification of meeting there his uncle Henry, second Earl of Northumberland, now sixty years of age, King Henry V. having reversed the attainder of his grandfather, for the Shrewsbury and Bramham affairs, and restored him to the Percy estates and dignities, since which he had won distinction by sharing in the glory of Agincourt. At this council it was determined to march, on the following morning, upon St. Alban's, as it was ascertained from scouts that Richard of York, between whom and Somerset there was bitter enmity, was marching in that direction with an army he had gathered round him at Ludlow, which had been augmented on the road by the contingents of his sympathisers, and was supposed to outnumber the forces ranged under the Lancastrian banner.

The following morning the tents around Watford were struck by daylight; the troops breakfasted, and, with banners flying and trumpets sounding, they commenced their march towards St. Alban's. Sir Philip Wentworth carried the Royal standard; and with the King, as a guard of honour, were Humphrey, Duke of Buckingham, and his son, Earl Stafford; Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland; James Butler, Earl of Wiltshire; Thomas, Lord Clifford; and other nobles of the first rank.

As the army approached St. Alban's, they perceived the uplands in front of them covered with armed men, moving rapidly along towards the old Roman city, in battle array. On seeing this, the Lancastrians halted, set up the Royal standard, with Lord Clifford and his Craven men to guard the barriers. The Duke of Buckingham was sent to demand of the Duke of York why he thus appeared before his Sovereign. Duke Richard replied that he was loyal to the King, sought only for justice upon Somerset, and would at once lay down his arms if he would surrender him to be dealt with according to the laws of the kingdom. The King, on receiving this message, displayed unwonted spirit, and replied that "he would as soon give up his crown as deliver up either Somerset or the meanest soldier in his camp to the mercy of the Yorkists." This answer was final, and the Red and the White Rose met for the first time in the struggle of battle.

The Lancastrians had the advantage of position, and were so certain of victory that Somerset issued orders that no quarter should be given to the Yorkists, but the latter had firearms of a rude description, which gave them a counter advantage. Clifford, however, kept them at bay bravely, and prevented them from coming to close conflict. Meanwhile, Warwick, with his northern warriors, entered the town from the other side, and fell upon the King's troops with such vigour that, as Hall says, "the King's army was profligate disposed, and all the chieftains of the field almost slain and brought to confusion." The barriers were at length burst, and York entered the town, and then in the streets were heard the shouts of "A Warwick! a Warwick!" on the other side "A York! a York!" and in the midst the war cries of "King Henry! a Somerset! a Percy! a Clifford!" etc., all intermingled with the clash of swords upon armour and shield; the whir of arrows flying through the air; the groans of wounded and dying men, and the screams of flying women; whilst the market-place was strewn with the bodies of fallen men, and the streets flowed with blood. Shakspeare makes Clifford fall at the hand of the Duke of York. Warwick enters crying--

"Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls! And if thou do'st not hide thee from the bear Now when the angry trumpet sounds alarm And dead men's cries do fill the empty air, Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me! Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland, Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms."

York, however, interposes, and claims the right of fighting with him.

"_Clifford._--What seest thou in me, York? Why dost thou pause?

_York._--With thy brave bearing I should be in love, But that thou art so fast mine enemy.

_Clifford._--Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem, But that 'tis shown ignobly and in treason.

_York._--So let it help me now against thy sword, As I in justice and true right express it!

_Clifford._--My soul and body on the action both!

_York._--A dreadful lay!--address thee instantly.

(_They fight, and Clifford falls._)

_Clifford._--La fin couronne les oeuvres. (_Dies._)

_York._--Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still. Peace with his soul, Heaven, if it be Thy will."

The slaughter of Lord Clifford at the hands of the Duke of York is the keynote to young Clifford's subsequent ruthless hatred of the House of York. Coming up to the body of his father, Shakspeare puts these words into his mouth--