Part 9

Sir John then ordered wine and victuals to be laid out for their breakfast, and invited the two sons of Sir Robert to sit down and join him in the repast; the younger, through fear, assented, but Adam, the elder, refused, with a scowling brow, to eat with the murderer of his father, upon seeing which, Sir John said, "How heinously that lad doth take his father's death; and looks with a frowning countenance as if he would take revenge; but I will keep such a watchful, circumspect eye over him that he shall never be able to do us any harm." Having thus accomplished his purpose, and finished his meal beside the corpse of his victim lying on the floor, he departed with his band of assassins, nor does it appear that he was ever called to account for the outrage. After the burial of her husband, Lady Beaumont, fearing for the safety of her children, fled with them to the house of her kinsman, Townley, in Lancashire, and took along with her the sons of Quarmby and Lockwood, and a youth named Lacy, of Crumblebottom, where they were instructed together in feats of chivalry, fencing, tilting, shooting with the long bow, riding, and other knightly qualities, as preparations for taking their revenge.

The curtain had fallen upon the first act of the drama; fifteen years had now elapsed, and the second act commences. The four youths had now grown up nearly to manhood, and Lockwood, the eldest, suggested that the time was now come when "we should bravely seek to revenge the spilling of our fathers' blood, for if Eland should have that foul act for well done, it will encourage him in his wickedness, and further to proceed in destroying the whole posterity of our renowned ancestors; therefore do I esteem it our wisdom, and an undertaking well becoming the successors of such worthy patriots, utterly to extirpate from the face of the earth the cursed Cain and his posterity." The others assented, and took into their counsel two men--Dawson and Haigh--retainers of one of the families--who had come from Yorkshire, and who informed them that Sir John would shortly go to Brighouse, where the Sheriffdom was to be held, and that they might easily waylay him and accomplish their purpose. Accordingly they set off, accompanied by an armed band of men, and secreted themselves in Crumblebottom Wood, on the wayside from Eland to Brighouse.

Sir John, suspecting nothing, went on his way to Brighouse, and coming upon some armed men on the roadside whom he knew not, courteously "vail'd his bonnet," when Adam Beaumont stepped forward and said--

"Thy courtesy 'vails thee not, Sir Knight, Thou slew my father dear, Sometime Sir Robert Beaumont hight; And slain thou shalt be here."

The others addressed him in like terms. "Whose fathers' blood," said they all, "we are now come to revenge upon thee and thine." They then attacked him, his followers drawing their weapons and rallying round him in his defence, and a general fight commenced between the two companies, several on both sides being wounded. At length the four young men, who kept together, succeeded in separating Sir John from his followers, and inflicting upon him numerous wounds, left him lying bleeding and dying upon the turf. Knowing that such a crime as the murder of the King's Sheriff could not pass unnoticed, as soon as they felt assured that they had accomplished their revenge they hastened back into Lancashire, but feeling that they would not be safe at Townley Hall, they went onward into Furness, then a wild unfrequented corner of the county, with few inhabitants excepting the monks of the abbey and a few peasants who were dependent upon it, and hid themselves in the recesses of the woods, among the caves and fells, depending upon their bows for the supply of their daily food. And thus ends the second act of the drama.

In the meanwhile, Sir John's son, a second Sir John, succeeded to Eland, who was married and had a son, then a young boy, who might also have succeeded but for the machinations of the allies in Furness. During the winter they had been laying their plots, and came to the determination of utterly extirpating the male line of the Elands, and arranged to attack Sir John on his way to or from church on Palm Sunday. Accordingly, in the spring, they came secretly to Crumblebottom Hall, where they lay _perdu_ to watch events, and, on the eve of Palm Sunday, concealed themselves in Eland Mill. Their proceedings, however, were not so secret but that rumours of impending evil reached the ears of Sir John, and on Sunday morning he told his wife that he should not go out that day, but she rallied him on his fears, and urged that he must go to church on that specially holy day as an example to others, upon which he reluctantly assented, but took the precaution of putting on a coat of mail beneath his waistcoat.

The confederates and their followers saw the sun rise on the morning of Palm Sunday as they lay in the mill, and began to prepare for their meditated deed, when the door was suddenly opened, and the miller's wife entered for some corn which her husband had sent her for. They immediately seized her, bound her hand and foot, and told her that if she cried out they would knock her on the head. Not returning in due course, her husband grew wroth at her dalliance.

"The miller swore she should repent, She tarried there so long; A good cudgel in hand he went, To chastise her with wrong."

But the miller, instead of amusing himself by thrashing his wife, met with the same fate that she had undergone, and was thrown, securely bound, on a heap of flour-sacks beside her.

Sir John, his wife, and little son, left Eland Hall for church, taking a short cut over the stones of the mill-dam which was nearly empty in consequence of a drought. As he was stepping over Beaumont shot an arrow at him which glanced off his coat of mail, as did Lockwood with a like effect. The villagers, who were going to church, seeing this, came running up, when Lockwood shot another arrow, which pierced Sir John's brain, whilst another from Quarmby, mortally wounded the boy.

They had now accomplished their vengeance; the male line of the Elands was extinct; but it behoved them to look to their own safety, as the villagers, armed with clubs and hatchets, were assembling in great force. They rushed out of the mill, fought their way along Whittlelane End to Old Earthgate, and hence to Anely Wood, hotly pursued by their foes. Willet, Smith, Remington, and Bunney, yeomanry officers, also summoned their men, who armed themselves with "pitchforks, long staves, knotted clubs, and rusty bills," and joined the hunt. As their foes neared them, they faced round and presented a bold, resolute front, as long as their arrows lasted, when they again took to flight; Lockwood carrying off Quarmby, who had fallen wounded. They gained the shelter of the wood, where they left Quarmby, dead, and each sought to shift for himself. Beaumont took refuge in Crosland Hall, and stood on his defence with the bridge drawn up; he afterwards escaped to France, fought against the Turks in Hungary, where he won great fame and honour, and eventually became a Knight of Rhodes. Lockwood sought shelter in Camel Hall, but was captured when incautiously visiting a village maiden with whom he had an amour, and was put to death there and then, and so ended the race of the Lockwoods. What became of Lacy is not known. Sir John Eland, the younger, left a daughter and heiress, who married Sir John Savile, of Tankersley, and conveyed the Eland and other estates to that family.

The Plumpton Marriage.

The Plumpton family, of Plumpton, near Knaresborough, were established there from the period of the Domesday Book, when Edred de Plumpton held two carucates of land of William de Percy, the mesne lord. They had estates afterwards at other places--Idle, near Leeds, held of the Lacies; Steeton, near Tadcaster; Nesfield, near Otley, where they had a manor-house, and elsewhere. They were a family of considerable importance in Yorkshire, and were great benefactors to the Nunnery of Esholt, in Craven. They frequently make a conspicuous appearance in the various historical events of the centuries of their existence. Peter, son of Nigel, suffered confiscation of his lands for confederating with the Barons against King John; but, on submitting and doing fealty to Henry III., they were restored. Sir Robert, founder of a chapel in the church in Knaresborough, was beheaded at York, for participation in Scrope's rebellion against King Henry IV., in 1408. Sir William, who objected to the levying of tolls, at Otley and Ripley, by Archbishop Kemp, lay in wait for the tax-gatherers at Thornton Bridge, with a company of foresters. The officials, apprehending the meaning of the armed men by the bridge, turned aside to pass over the river by Brafferton Ford, but were followed by Sir William and his men, shouting, "Slay the Archbishop's carles, and would to God we had the Archbishop himself here." In the fray which ensued, several of the Archbishop's men were slain and wounded, and others taken prisoners. Robert, the last male representative of the family, died unmarried and intestate at Paris, in 1749, when the estates passed to his aunt, Anne, who, in 1760, sold them to Daniel Lascelles, for £28,000.

A volume entitled "The Plumpton Correspondence," consisting of family letters, chiefly of a domestic character, written in the reigns of Edward IV., Richard III., Henry VII., and Henry VIII., was published in 1869 by the Camden Society; edited by Thomas Stapleton, from Sir Edward Plumpton's "Book of Letters."

In the reign of Henry II., Gilbert de Plumpton, a youthful scion of the family, was living at Plumpton. As the Plumptons were then comparatively small land-owners, and as they had high aspirations, aiming at the knightly or baronial degree, it behoved them to improve their landed estates by prudent marriages with heiresses, and thus qualify themselves for a higher position in the county. Young Gilbert, then approaching manhood, therefore cast his eyes about him with that purpose. His range of vision was rather restricted, as people in those days, owing to the badness of the roads and other causes, rarely travelled far away from home, and were almost compelled to select their wives and husbands from amongst their neighbours, seldom going beyond the bounds of their native counties to enter into matrimonial alliances. Besides this, eligible heiresses were but few in number, and being under the guardianship of the King, or of some one appointed by him, whose consent was necessary for marriage, it being a serious offence to marry an heiress without such pre-consent, it became a difficult matter, even when an heiress was found and her affections secured, to consummate their reciprocal love by a conjugal union; especially as Kings were then wont to use their power over their fair wards in a very arbitrary and tyrannical fashion, by bestowing their hands and inheritances on their favourites, or in reward for some service, without the least consideration for the pleasure or will of the person most concerned--the lady herself.

About this time Roger de Guilevast, or, as he is sometimes called, Richard Wardwast, a wealthy land-owner, in the neighbourhood of Plumpton, died, and left his only daughter, Eleanor, heiress to his extensive possessions. This young lady, Gilbert had encountered when out with his hounds one day, some twelve months previously. He had been searching for game in the woodlands of the picturesque scenery which surrounds Plumpton, and had come to the lake, when he was startled by the sight of an exquisitely beautiful young girl wandering along the shore, and seemingly enjoying the beautiful prospect of land, water, and foliaged trees. He accosted her, and she readily entered into conversation with him, when he was as much struck by her wit and sensible remarks as he had previously been by her beauty. She informed him who she was, and who her father, and he imparted to her the same information respecting himself, and they discovered that, although they had never chanced to meet previously, they were well acquainted with each other's families. Gilbert therefore knew that if her father died without other issue his estates would descend to her as his heiress. Here he thought was the chance he had been hoping for; but as he was of a cautious, calculating disposition, he considered that her father, not yet aged, might still have a son, to whom the lands would pass, and leave her with nothing more than a slender marriage portion; and although he saw that she was beautiful and accomplished, and was just the wife whom he would choose if personal charms were the chief consideration, he could not, in justice to his family and his own aspirations, marry a dowerless maiden, and he resolved not to commit himself too far until he saw more as to the chance of her succession to the estates. Still he determined not to lose sight of her altogether, and that it would be well in the meantime to inspire her heart with the sentiment of love towards him, if it were possible to do so.

"Do you often walk in this direction?" he asked.

"Oh yes," she replied, "in the beautiful summer sunshine, when the trees are clad in their bright vestments of green, and the flowers are opening their petals and giving forth perfume from every bank; when the birds are singing joyfully overhead, and the hum of the bees and other insects add a pleasing undertone to their louder carolling--I love to wander alone with Nature for my companion. And you! Do you care to commune with Nature? or only feel a pleasure in going forth in the forest lands and pastures, to destroy the innocent and beautiful creatures who enjoy their existence as much as you do yourself?" And so saying, she pointed interrogatively at his dogs, which were barking and sniffing about among the bushes.

"Oh!" answered he, "believe not that my sole delight is in the chase. Nature has sent certain animals into the world to supply us with food, and it is right to deprive them of life before placing them on the table; nor do I think it wrong to destroy noxious animals, such as wolves and foxes, and it is only on such that I wage war; nothing do I kill out of wanton sport. I experience pleasure in the sight of the rising and the setting sun, I can look with delight on the glories of a landscape, such as that which is spread around us, and witness with a thrill of sublime awe the warring of the elements in a tempest."

Thus they conversed for some time, mutually interested in each other's conversation, and before parting arranged to meet at set times near the huge rock which rises out of the water and stretches for a length of fifty feet, and which still attracts thousands of tourists to wonder at and admire it.

Many times did they meet there, and their love ripened at each interview, Gilbert almost forgetting the demands of his family for heiresses, and almost resolving to seek her hand, even in case of a brother coming to claim the inheritance; but some six months afterwards, Eleanor's father "went the way of all flesh," and she became really an heiress, when Gilbert commenced making love to her in real earnest, his own private inclinations coinciding now with what was due to his consideration of the interests of his family.

At this time Ranulph de Glanville was resident in Yorkshire, as Lord of Coverdale, having acquired the estates there by his marriage with Bertha, daughter of Theobald de Valvins, Lord of Parham. He was the greatest legal luminary of his age, and eminent, besides, as a statesman and warrior; was Judge-itinerant in Yorkshire and thirteen other counties, and in 1186 was promoted to the dignity of Chief-Justice of England; he was also Sheriff of Yorkshire and some other counties, and was employed extensively in State affairs. When King Henry II. was in France, King William of Scotland invaded Northumberland, in 1174, and Glanville, as Sheriff of Yorkshire, raised an army of Yorkshiremen, marched against him, defeated him in a battle, and took him prisoner, lodging him in Richmond Castle. News of the victory reached the King after his memorable penance at the tomb of Thomas a Becket, and, instead of attributing it to the skill of Glanville and the bravery of his followers, ascribed it to St. Thomas, as a reward for his penitential humiliation at his shrine. In his latter days he founded an abbey and a priory in his native county of Suffolk; in 1189 he accompanied King Richard in his crusade to Palestine, and is said to have been slain at the siege of Acre.

As Sheriff of the county of York, he was the representative of the King, and, of course, in the matter of the guardianship of heiresses and the disposal of their hands and inheritances. When intelligence reached him of the death of Roger de Guilevast without issue male, it occurred to him that it would be a good opportunity for rewarding one, Reiner, a favourite dependant of his, whom he wished to advance in life. Reiner is mentioned in the Plump. Cartul., 1002, as Sheriff of Yorkshire, but as Glanville himself was then Sheriff, he would probably be Deputy-Sheriff. He therefore proposed to bestow the heiress and her estates upon Reiner, and gave instructions to that effect.

The lovers, for plighted lovers they had become when Eleanor received an intimation that she was to give her hand to Reiner, resolved upon a bold step, no less than that of defying the King and his Sheriff by a clandestine marriage. Gilbert was on terms of great intimacy with the Spofforths of Spofforth, a township adjoining that of Plumpton, an ancient Saxon family, one of whom, Thomas, early in the fifteenth century, became Abbot of St. Mary's, York, and, in 1422, was elected Bishop of Rochester, but, before installation, was constituted Bishop of Hereford by Papal provision. One of the family was a priest and the close friend of Gilbert, and he undertook to risk the performance of the ceremony, which was carried out in private, and Gilbert took his bride home, and for a week or more enjoyed the usual connubial felicity of the honeymoon period.

A loud knocking at the gates of the Plumpton Manor House one morning startled the inmates and aroused the fears of the newly married couple, who were apprehensive of the vengeance of the Sheriff. At first they thought of flight; but where to go? Nowhere in the realm would they be safe against the power of the King, so they were compelled perforce to abide the issue. When the gates were opened, a body of men in the livery of the Sheriff presented themselves, the leader of whom said, "In the name of the King, and by the authority of his Sheriff, Ranulph de Glanville, I demand to be delivered up to me the bodies of Gilbert de Plumpton and of Eleanor de Guilevast, a ward of the Crown, who has been treacherously carried off from her home by the said Gilbert, in violation of the laws of the realm, and in traitorous contempt of the King's authority."

At this juncture Gilbert presented himself with his wife leaning on his arm, and demanded what they meant by such intrusion and insolent language, adding that he was no traitor and no contemner of the laws of the kingdom, but one of the King's most faithful subjects.

"We come not," was the reply, "to bandy words with you, or decide the question at issue; our instructions are to convey you to York, where the Sheriff will determine what further shall be done in the matter, and who will listen to any objections you may be pleased to urge in respect of your apprehension as a violator of the law."

Seeing that there was no use in resisting, Gilbert said, "Then I will accompany you to York," and gave directions for his horse to be saddled. "But," he continued, "I trust it is not necessary to submit this lady, my wife, to the indignity; I suppose she may remain here until I have vindicated my innocence, and can return to her."

"That cannot be," replied the leader, "my instructions are to bring you and the lady, and loth as I am to appear discourteous to a lady, I must insist on her accompanying us."

"I am ready to go," said Eleanor; "rather would I go to face any perils, in your company, than be left behind with all the anxieties and uncertainties as to what is befalling you."

Another horse was then brought from the stables for her accommodation, and the party rode together to York. They were placed in the custody of the Sheriff's officers, but not in prison, and a few days after were brought before the Sheriff. He interrogated Gilbert with great severity, who acknowledged the marriage, and the lady with more courtesy, who replied with modesty, pleading that she was not aware that marrying the man to whom she had given her heart could be a matter of offence to the King, adding that, so far as she knew, even a milkmaid or a peasant girl was at liberty to marry whom she chose. The Sheriff explained that she was very different from a peasant girl, who was a mere serf, and that it mattered not whom she married, but that she was an inheritor of a portion of the land of England, the whole of which belonged to the King, and that such being the case, it was necessary for the welfare of the realm that he should have in his hand the disposal of such heiresses in marriage, so that their estates should not fall into the hands of unworthy persons. "I can understand," he continued, "that you, a simple maiden, should be ignorant of this essential feature of the constitution of the realm, and being so, are entitled rather to compassion than blame for having been inveigled into this unlawful marriage, which, in the eye of the law, is no marriage at all, but concubinage. As for you, sir," addressing himself to Gilbert, "you are supposed to be cognisant of the laws of the land, and have been guilty of a gross crime and misdemeanour, which may lead to serious consequences. It will be necessary for me to lay the matter before the King's grace, and bring you before his tribunal of justice, so that he may deal with you as he deems fitting, and rest assured, it will go well with you if you escape with your life. As for your wife, as you call her, it is probable you will never more see her; but she will be well cared for, if that be any consolation to you, and shall be provided with a suitable and worthy husband." On hearing this announcement, Eleanor uttered a piercing shriek, and fell fainting to the floor. She was carried away into an adjoining apartment, whilst her husband, betraying signs of deep agitation, attempted to speak, but was prevented doing so by direction of the Judge.