Part 8
John Ingilby (_temp._ Richard II.), was the second founder of and benefactor to the Carthusian Monastery of Mount Grace, in Cleveland. John, born at Ripley in 1434, "did wondrously flourish in the reign of Henry VI." Sir William, his son, was knighted by "Lord Gloucester on Milton Field, in Holland, in 1482," for valour. A John de Ingilby was Prior of Sheen and Bishop of Llandaff, 1496-1500. Sir William, born 1515, was High Sheriff of Yorkshire and Treasurer of Berwick, _temp._ Elizabeth. David, his second son, married Anne Nevile, daughter of Charles, sixth Earl of Westmoreland, by which marriage his representatives, with those of Nicholas Pudsey, are co-heirs of the abeyant Barony of Nevile of Raby. Francis, third son of Sir William, was a Roman Catholic priest, and was executed at York, in 1586, for performing the functions of his office in the realm. John, fifth son of Sir William, was presented in the list of recusants in 1604. William, eldest son of Sampson of Spofforth, fourth son of Sir William, was created baronet in 1642, and fought on the King's side at Marston Moor. His castle at Ripley was garrisoned for the King, and Cromwell, after the battle of Marston Moor, passing through Ripley, demanded lodgings for the night, which was at first refused by Lady Ingilby, but he was, after a parley, admitted, on the promise that his followers should not be guilty of any impropriety. She received him with a couple of pistols stuck in her apron string, and on leaving in the morning, he inquired the meaning of the two weapons. "I'll tell you," she replied, "why I had two; it was that the second might be ready in case the first missed fire, for if you had behaved otherwise than peaceably I should have pistolled you without the least remorse." Sir William rebuilt Ripley Castle. In one of the towers is the following inscription:--"In the yiere of owre Ld. M.D.L.V. was this towre buyldyd by Sir Willyam Ingilby, Knight; Philip and Mary reigning that time." In the great staircase window is a series of escutcheons on stained glass, containing the arms of Ingilby and of the families with whom they had inter-married. Sir William, the second baronet, purchased the manor of Armley from the Mauliverers. Sir John, the fourth baronet died 1772, when the baronetcy expired. The baronetcy was revived in 1781, in the person of John Ingilby, an illegitimate son of the fourth baronet of the previous creation. Sir William Amcotts, his fourth son, succeeded to the baronetcy of his maternal grandfather, Sir Wharton Amcotts, by special remainder, and to that of his father in 1815, but died S.P., in 1854, when the baronetcy expired.
In 1866 the baronetcy was again restored, in the person of the Rev. Henry John, nephew of the above Sir John, in his succession by will to the Ripley estates, whose son, Sir Henry Day is the present holder, with (according to the new Domesday Book, of 1876) an acreage in the West Riding of 10,000, producing a rental of £11,149 per annum.
In Ripley Castle there is, or was, a full-length portrait of a knight of the Ingilby family, attired in the hunting costume of the Plantagenet times, with the head of a wild boar at his feet. This is the presentment of Sir William Ingilby, a doughty warrior and a hunter of renown, who lived in the troublous reign of Edward II. Although the representative of the family still lived in Lincolnshire, not having yet acquired the Ripley estates, this Sir William resided on one of the Yorkshire estates not far distant from Ripley, and would be on terms of intimacy with the family of de Ripley, whose heiress was won by Sir Thomas Ingilby, the Justice of the Common Pleas, and who possibly might have been the son of Sir William. Sir William had gained some renown in the Scottish wars of King Edward I. against William Wallace, and had been an ardent and loyal supporter of the weak and unfortunate second Edward on his accession to the throne, from the fact of his being the son of the great and glorious King, the first of that name.
He remained loyal until the King gave himself up into the hands of his favourite, Piers Gaveston, who humoured his naturally depraved inclinations, and led him into acts of malgovernment, which estranged the hearts of the people. He loaded him with benefits, bestowing on him great estates and much treasure. Amongst other grants he gave him the Lordship of Knaresborough Castle and forest, with divers liberties, franchises, and privileges, which led him to assume a high and dictatorial tone to the nobles of the realm, who expostulated with the King, and compelled him to banish the insolent foreigner. But the King, not able to learn wisdom in the school of experience, recalled him and bestowed fresh benefits upon him, which so exasperated the Barons that they rose in arms, with Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, at their head, captured the favourite in Scarborough Castle, and beheaded him. The King then took the Spensers into his favour, who became more intolerably oppressive than their predecessor, upon which the Barons again rose in arms, but were defeated in a battle at Boroughbridge, and nearly a hundred barons, knights, and other prisoners put to death, the Earl of Lancaster being beheaded at Pontefract. In the sequel, however, the Spensers met the same fate as Gaveston, the elder being executed at Bristol, and the younger at Hereford.
Notwithstanding his personal loyalty, Sir William became so disgusted at the imbecile conduct of the King, and the arrogance of his favourites, that he took up arms with the Barons for the purpose of removing them from the Royal councils. A bloody revenge was taken by the King on the leaders and more prominent members of the conspiracy, but those of lesser degree were permitted to escape capital punishment, being punished by fines, confiscations, etc., and lay under a cloud of disgrace until the barbarous murder of the King in Berkley Castle, and the accession of Edward III., removed the stigma.
In this latter category was included Sir William Ingilby, who would most probably have remained alienated from the good graces of the King had not a fortunate circumstance occurred, which restored him to favour, and which had an influence in enhancing the dignity of the family.
Sir William's residence was in the valley of the Nidd, "one of the most romantic, picturesque, and wealthy vales in England." Spreading around for a distance of several miles lay the magnificent Forest of Knaresborough, the home of wild cattle, wolves, wild boars, the roebuck, and other ferocious animals of the chase. To the east stood, on its craggy and almost inaccessible rock, overhanging the Nidd and the then small village of Knaresborough, the formidable fortress of Serlo de Burgh, whilst on the verge of the forest stood the splendid monastic establishments of Fountains, Bolton, Ripon, and other lesser houses. The forest has the reputation of having been one of the haunts of Robin Hood, one portion bearing traditionally the name of "Robin Hood's Park," whence he issued to pay his visits to the Abbey of Fountains, as recorded in ballad lore. In the western portion of the forest lay the Royal chase of Haverah Park (Hey-wra, the park of the wra or roe), consisting of 2,000 acres, densely wooded, and inhabited by beasts of chase, which were kept together and preserved by an oak paling, which encircled the park. The road thither from Knaresborough ran through the forest south of the Nidd, and across an upland, since famous for its chalybeate springs, and where there were then a few scattered cottages, forming a small hamlet, which came to be designated Heynragate--the road to Heynra Park--which has since been corrupted into Harrogate, and has become one of the most fashionable inland watering places in the kingdom.
The Castle and forest of Knaresborough were granted to Serlo de Burgh, who built the castle, after whom they were alternately in the hands of the Crown, or of some Royal favourite on whom they had been bestowed. Edward II. made a grant of them to Piers Gaveston, on whose death they reverted to the Crown. It was during this period that the King came to Knaresborough Castle to relax himself from the cares and anxieties of Royalty, by three or four days' hunting in Haverah Park. He was not attended by a large retinue, being only accompanied by three or four friends, and a few body servants; huntsmen, beaters, and other attendants of the chase being permanently retained there, as well as hounds and all the requisite hunting gear and weapons; this was because of his unpopularity with the people, on account of his governing the realm upon the advice of unworthy favourites. Hence he came down with some degree of secrecy, in a species of incognito, and it was not known generally to the residents of the valley who the hunter was, the supposition being that he was some friend of the King's, who had been given permission to hunt in Haverah chase.
The day following his arrival at Knaresborough, the King rode through the forest to Haverah, accompanied by his friends, and a following of attendants bearing bows and arrows, boar spears, beating staves, and other implements of hunting, who were on foot. On entering the enclosures the attendants sent their dogs amongst the underwood and commenced beating the bushes, with loud cries to start the game. As these were very plentiful, a number of small animals, badgers, foxes, polecats, etc., were roused from their lairs in quick succession, and afforded considerable sport. Two or three stags were also started, one of which was killed by the King, by an arrow shot; and a wolf made his appearance, who displayed great pugnacity, and caused great excitement amongst the hunters. Towards noon the King and his friends sat down to a refection under the shadow of a patriarchal oak, which, from its size and evident age, rendered it possible that it might have witnessed the Druidical mysteries of the Brigantes. Again the beaters and dogs commenced their operations, and were rewarded by the appearance of a huge wild boar, armed with a formidable pair of tusks, who rushed into the glade where the hunters were assembled. The dogs rushed upon him, barking with eagerness, and the King and his friends, taking boar spears from the attendants, rode at a gallop towards the animal, who gazed upon them for a few moments, as if to measure the strength of his opponents, and then turned and dashed amongst the underwood, followed by the hounds and the hunters.
Two or three of the dogs, venturing too near the boar, were instantly ripped up, and the hunters followed as best they might through the tangled brushwood. The King, who was better mounted than his friends, soon left them behind, and, brandishing his spear, followed in the track made by the boar, not without sundry scratches from the projecting branches of the forest trees; but the boar still kept ahead, occasionally turning to look at the hounds who were yelping at his heels, and then dashing onward again; whilst the King, mounted on a powerful and fleet horse, gradually gained on the beast, despite the obstacles that beset his path.
Although the forest of Knaresborough was a Royal appanage, the foresters, as the inhabitants of the district were called, possessed certain privileges of hunting therein, with certain limits; from Haverah Park alone were they excluded, that domain being reserved exclusively for the King and those to whom he gave permission to hunt in the enclosure. Sir William Ingleby being a "forester," therefore had the right of following game in the forest outside the palings of Haverah. On the same day that the King went to hunt in Haverah Park, Sir William went out, boar spear in hand, in search of sport. He was not accompanied by either attendant or dog, trusting alone to his own natural prowess, in case he should meet with game. In his wanderings he had come near the palings of the park, and sat down to partake of a luncheon he had brought with him in his pocket. He was just finishing his meal when he heard the cry of hunting dogs, and immediately afterwards a crashing sound. Looking up he saw the palings give way, and a huge boar rushing through the gap, followed by half a dozen dogs and a man on horseback. He had just time to observe that the hunter was clad in a buff jerkin, with high-reaching boots, and was brandishing a boar spear and encouraging the hounds, when the boar, finding himself so hotly pursued, turned at bay, drove his tusks into a couple of the dogs, and then sprang upon the hunter, overturning the horse, and laying the hunter prostrate on the sward. He was just on the point of dashing his tusks into the body of the fallen enemy, when Sir William rushed up, and with well directed aim struck his spear into the heart of the boar, which fell lifeless at his feet, and then, taking his knife from his girdle, with a huntsman's skill severed the head from the body, the whole occupying but a few minutes.
"And who are you, my brave fellow?" inquired the fallen hunter, whom Sir William had assisted in rising and disentangling from his horse.
"I am a denizen of the forest," replied Sir William. "As to my name, it matters not; but right glad am I to have been the means of rescuing you from the fangs of that monster."
"You have saved me from death, whoever you may be," said the hunter, "and your guerdon shall be equivalent to the service you have rendered me."
"May I be allowed to ask who you may be," continued Sir William, "who are hunting in the King's chase?"
"I am connected with the court of the King, who has come hither for the divertisement of hunting."
"The King, whom Heaven preserve, then is present in the chase?" inquired Sir William.
"He is," replied the hunter, "the remainder of the party will be here anon."
"How shall I know the King, for I shall wish to pay due respect to him?"
"Oh, he may be easily recognised, for he will remain covered, while all the rest momentarily remove their hats."
At this moment the rest of the hunting group came up, all of whom uncovered their heads.
"Now, do you recognise the king?" inquired the hunter.
"I do," he replied, dropping on his knee, "and crave pardon for the boldness of my language."
The King, for he it was, then told his followers how Sir William had saved his life, and that although he had declined giving his name, he would find that out, and would reward him suitably for so important a service.
"Please your Majesty," said one of the beaters, "I know who the gentleman is; he is Sir William Ingleby of Nidderdale."
"Sir William Ingleby?" said the King. "If I remember aright, you were one of those who, along with our kinsman, Lancaster, appeared in arms against our Royal authority."
"Not my Liege," replied Ingleby, "against your Royal authority, but against your evil advisers."
"Well," continued the King, with a slight scowl, "let bygones be bygones; you have done me a service which obliterates all that. You are from this moment restored to favour; in memory of what you have done this day, I decree that, for the future and all time, you and your family shall bear, as the crest of your arms, a boar's head. Let me see you shortly at my Court, and then I will see what further I can do out of gratitude for the service you have rendered me."
Sir William made a profound obeisance to the King, and from that time the fortunes of the Inglebys, from that circumstance, coupled with the fortunate marriage with the heiress of Ripley, continued to rise.
The Rev. Thomas Parkinson, in his "Lays and Leaves of the Forest" (1882), writes--"It is impossible to fix any date at which the various wild animals ceased to inhabit the forest. The wild cattle are not mentioned after the thirteenth century. Wolves were probably extinct in the fourteenth; indeed there are traditions of their existence three centuries later. Deer there were in 1654 A.D., for William Fleetwood, Sergeant of the Duchy of Lancaster, was plaintiff in a suit against Ellis Markham for destruction of some deer, game, and trees in Haverah or Heywra Park, at that date. The last wild boar is said to have been slain in the Boar-hole in Haverah Park, in the reign of Charles II. By the middle of the reign of Elizabeth, however, say 1580 A.D., probably all, except very rare specimens indeed, the larger wild animals were gone.... Nominally, the district remained a Royal forest up to the time of its enclosure, under Act of Parliament, in 1771 A.D., but long before that date it had practically ceased to be a refuge for wild beasts, or to be used for the chase. As we have seen, its larger animals were extinct, and, besides losing its chief fauna, it has been denuded, in a great measure, of its green woods and forest monarchs. This is said to have been brought about chiefly by the existence of smelting furnaces for lead and iron in the neighbourhood."
The Eland Tragedy.
In the reign of King Edward III., four gentlemen, the heads of four reputable county families, resided in their respective halls, within a short distance of each other, in the neighbourhood of Huddersfield. They were Sir John Eland, of Eland Hall; Sir Robert Beaumont, of Crosland Hall; Sir Hugh Quarmby, of Quarmby; and John Lockwood, of Lockwood. The family of Sir John Eland had been seated here for several generations, descended from Leisingus de Eland, from whom Lasingcroft derives its name. They were a knightly race, had inter-married with some of the best county families, and lived in a style of great splendour. Their lands were held as a fief under the Earls of Warren, and Sir John, who now represented the family, held the stewardship of the Earl's manors in Yorkshire, including that of Wakefield. He was also the shire-reeve, and, as such, the representative of the King, in the administration of justice and law within the county. Little further is known of him, and he would have scarcely been remembered, but for a deadly feud which arose between him and his above-mentioned neighbours, and a series of atrocious murders arising thereout. Even this might have been forgotten, as at that time deadly fights between families or communities frequently occurred, and excited but little notice, blood-for-blood vengeance being looked upon as a matter of course, and in the same light that duels were a century or two ago. The Livery Companies then frequently met in Cheapside to settle their quarrels with bows and clubs; and the famous fight of Chevy Chase was nothing more than the outcome of a dispute between two border Earls about hunting without permission across the border. So, with other frays of similar character, it might have passed into oblivion, but for a ballad which was written at the time, a modernised version of which appeared _temp._ Henry VIII., and which has come down to the present time--a copy of which was printed in Halifax in 1789, and another published in Whittaker's "Loidis et Elmete." The more modern version was entitled "Revenge upon Revenge: a narrative of the tragical practices of Sir John Eland, High Sheriff of Yorkshire, on Sir Robert Beaumont, in the reign of King Edward III." It gives the whole of the proceedings, with such circumstantial detail that, although some authorities have endeavoured to throw discredit upon the narrative, and expressed their belief that it is a fiction, it bears internal evidence of its truth. Sir John was a man of overbearing temper, impatient of opposition to his behests, and implacable in his hatred. The ballad opens with a long diatribe on pride and worldly ambition, and says--
"With such like faults was found infect One, Sir John Eland, Knight; His doings made it much suspect Therein he took delight."
Whilst Sir Robert Beaumont, the main object of his hatred, is thus mentioned--
"Sometime there dwelt in Crosland Hall A kind and courteous Knight; It was well known that he withal Sir Robert Beaumont hight. Some say that Eland Sheriff was By Beaumont disobey'd, Which might him make for that trespass With him the worst afraid."
The origin of the feud appears to have been in this wise--Earl de Warren had seduced Alice de Lacy, wife of Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, upon which a quarrel arose between the two Earls, and their retainers met and fought, when a nephew of Sir John was slain by one Exley. Exley made over to Sir John a plot of land as compensation for the mischance, which he accepted, but still sought to be avenged by the death of the homicide. Exley fled to the house of his relative, Sir Robert Beaumont, for shelter, and Sir John demanded his surrender, which was refused by Sir Robert, and in this he was countenanced by his friends Quarmby and Lockwood, on the ground that Sir John, having accepted the plot of land, had condoned the offence, which gave great affront to Sir John, who went off muttering threats of vengeance.
Sir John was doubtlessly perfectly right, in his capacity of Sheriff, to demand the delivery up of an offender against the laws of the realm, but he was equally in the wrong in having accepted a bribe to compromise the offence; but his irritation arose from the fact of Sir Robert having set his authority at defiance--an insult which his proud spirit could not brook. He brooded over the matter at home for some days, and at length came to the resolution of erasing the stain upon his dignity by the death of Sir Robert, which he determined to accomplish with his own hands. He considered, further, that as Quarmby and Lockwood had backed Sir Robert in his defiance of him as Sheriff, they would be likely to avenge his death, so, to make assurance doubly sure, he felt it to be necessary to deal out the same fate to them. Accordingly, a few days after--
"He raised the country round about, His friends and tenants all, And for his purpose picked out Stout, sturdy men, and tall. To Quarmby Hall they came by night, And there the lord they slew, At that time Hugh of Quarmby hight, Before the country knew. To Lockwood then, the selfsame night, They came, and there they slew Lockwood of Lockwood, that wiley wight. That stirred the strife anew."
"A gentleman of that wisdom and prudence that he was not only reckoned, but esteemed, as the oracle, as well as the darling, of his country, and whose memory will remain fragrant in future ages."
Having completed these preliminary murders, Sir John proceeded with his men to execute his _coup de grace_. Crosland Hall was surrounded by a deep moat--
"The hall was watered well about, No wight might enter in, Till that the bridge was well made out They durst not enter in."
As the bridge was raised, they lay in ambush till early in the morning, when it was lowered to allow a maid-servant to pass forth, upon which they rushed across and entered the house in a noisy, boisterous manner. Sir Robert came from his chamber, half-dressed, to ascertain the cause of the disturbance, when he was attacked by the invaders of his premises. He seized a sword and stood on his defence--
"And thus it was, most certainly, That slain before he was He fought again them manfully, Undressed though he was. His lady cried and shrieked withal When as from her they led Her dearest knight into the hall, And there cut off his head."
A MS. says that Exley and a brother of Sir Robert were killed at the same time.