FOOTNOTES:
[1] So say the Chroniclers; but modern investigators seem to think that the city did not fall a prey to fire and sword, but died a lingering death by the slow process of gradual decay.
Windsor Castle
The word Windsor is doubtless derived from the Anglo-Saxon "windle," a willow, probably referring to the winding course of the Thames, and "ofer," a shore, the "Windesoveres" of Geoffrey Gaimar, the "Winlesoren" of King Edward, the "Windesores" of Domesday, the "Windleshore" of Henry III.
The manor of Clewer, the site of the modern Windsor, consisting of five hides, was the property of Harold, son of Godwin, and, together with his other estates, fell at his death into the hands of William the Conqueror. William granted the manor to one Ralph, the son of Seifride, reserving, however, one-half of a hide on which were some earthworks, which are believed to be as old as the Heptarchy, and on which he built for himself a castle. This was styled, not Clewer Castle, but Windsor Castle, the name of Harold's royal residence, and since then has been intimately associated with English history, having been used alternately by William's descendants as their palace, prison, and burial place.
Edward the Confessor had a "palace" at Windsor, though it is not easy to determine the exact situation.
William Rufus assembled a council at Windsor, and there imprisoned the rebellious Earl of Mowbray for the remaining thirty years of his life.
Henry I. built a chapel, probably on the site now occupied by the Albert Memorial Chapel, formerly known as Wolsey's Tomb-House. Windsor was a favourite summer residence of Henry, and it was here that, in 1121, he married Adelicia of Louvain, the "Fair Maid of Brabant." In 1127, Henry received at Windsor the homage of the nobles of the land, who at the same time swore allegiance to his daughter, the Empress Maud, or Matilda. As was usual on such solemn occasions, the coronation ceremony was repeated.
Windsor does not figure at all in Stephen's disturbed reign, but Henry II. frequently resided there, and in his tenth year expended the sum of 30s. on repairing the kitchen. Fabyan, a chronicler of the time, tells a pathetic story bearing on Henry's domestic troubles. "It is recorded that in a chambere at Wyndsore he caused to be painted an eagle, with four birds, whereof three of them all rased (scratched) the body of the old eagle, and the fourth was scratching at the old eagle's eyes. When the question was asked of him (Henry) what thing that picture should signify? it was answered by him, 'This old eagle,' said he, 'is myself; and these four eagles betoken my four sons, the which cease not to pursue my death, and especially my youngest son, John, which now I love most, shall most especially await and imagine my death.'"
Windsor is closely connected with the granting of Magna Charta by John. Between Old Windsor and Staines is the flat meadow of Runimede, from which the Castle towers are visible. During the conferences which preceded and followed the ratification of this great charter, John went backwards and forwards to Windsor each day. He was at Windsor when he heard of the landing of the Dauphin Louis.
Henry III. greatly improved the Castle. The old hall in the Upper Ward was abandoned for a new and larger one in the Lower Ward, and, in 1272, he roofed the Keep. Part of the cloister still stands as it was then built, and not long ago a portrait of the king, part of the painted decoration, was discovered. On the town side three great towers were built, and on the north was erected a tower on the same site as now stands the Winchester Tower. All the buildings were handsomely decorated with paintings and windows filled with glass. In one of the new towers on the western side was possibly the dungeon connected with a scene in Henry's career, which proved him, for all his piety, a worthy son of his father. The Londoners, headed by their Mayor, Fitz-Thomas, had long resisted Henry's exactions, and when, in 1265, the King was in their power, and Earl Simon de Monfort ruled the land, Fitz-Thomas addressed to his King words in St. Paul's which sank deep into Henry's soul. When the Battle of Evesham delivered his enemies into his hands, Henry summoned the Mayor and chief citizens to Windsor, giving them a safe conduct. They were then thrown into prison, from which it does not appear that Fitz-Thomas ever emerged, though the others, to the number of forty, were eventually released.
The two eldest sons of Edward I. were born at Windsor, and, though the King himself rarely visited the Castle, Queen Eleanor seems often to have resided here.
In 1312 was born at Windsor one who was to do much for the castle, Edward III. During all his long reign Windsor was the scene of many displays of pomp and vanity, of tournaments, feasts, processions, besides councils, chapters, and great assemblies. The Upper Ward was entirely rebuilt, William of Wykeham—from whom the Winchester Tower derived its name—being the architect. It is said that the words "Hoc fecit Wykeham" were placed upon it, and that the wily prelate translated them to Edward as meaning, not "Wykeham made this," but "This made Wykeham."
Another story is told which points to the want of refined manners and delicate feeling of the Middle Ages. King Edward was conducting his royal prisoners, King John of France and King David of Scotland, round the Lower Ward, when one of them pointed out that the Upper Ward lay on higher ground and commanded a finer view. The King "approved their sayings, adding pleasantly that it should so be, and that he would bring his castle thither, that is to say, enlarge it so far with two other wards, the charges whereof should be borne with their two ransoms," as afterwards happened. The story of King Arthur and the Round Table fired Edward with the idea of founding the institution of the Garter, and carpenters and masons were soon busy erecting the Round Tower for the Round Table. The table, made of fifty-two oaks, seems to have been in the shape of a horse shoe rather than a perfect circle, so that the attendants could stand in the middle to serve the guests. In this tower assembled the flower of English knighthood—Warwick, celebrated in the French wars, who, when he died of the plague in 1369, left "not behind him his equal;" the young Earl of Salisbury, whose beautiful mother is said to have given rise to the motto of the Order, "Honi soit qui mal y pense;" and many others besides, whose names are well known for their prowess and valour.
It was at Windsor that good Queen Philippa passed away, universally lamented. Froissart touchingly describes her death:—"There fell in England a heavy case and common, howbeit it was right piteous for the King, his children, and all the realm. For the good Queen of England, that so many good deeds had done in her time, and so many knights succoured, and ladies and damsels comforted, and had so largely departed of her goods to her people, and naturally loved always the nation of Hainault, the country where she was born; she fell sick in the Castle of Windsor, the which sickness continued on her so long that there was no remedy but death. And the good lady, when she knew and perceived that there was with her no remedy but death, she desired to speak with the King, her husband. And when he was before her she put out of her bed her right hand, and took the King by his right hand, who was right sorrowful at heart. Then she said, 'Sir, we have in peace, joy, and great prosperity used all our time together. Sir, now I pray you, at our departing, that ye will grant me three desires.'" Her requests related to her debts, her promises to churches, and to her husband's "sepulture when so ever it shall please God to call you out of this transitory life," beside her in Westminster. "Then the good lady and Queen made on her the sign of the cross, and recommended the King, her husband, to God, and her youngest son, Thomas, who was beside her. And anon after, she yielded up the spirit, the which I believe surely the holy angels received with great joy up to heaven, for in all her life she did neither in thought or deed thing whereby to lese her soul, as far as any creature could know."
Many important scenes in Richard II.'s life are laid in Windsor Castle. Two deputations waited upon him here with a list of their grievances. In 1390 he appointed Geoffrey Chaucer, the poet, to superintend repairs in the chapel. The great dispute between Henry Bolingbroke, the last Knight of the Garter admitted by Edward III., and the Duke of Norfolk, took place at Windsor Castle, where, in the courtyard, King Richard sat on a platform, and gave judgment between the two, sentencing Bolingbroke to ten years' exile, and banishing Norfolk for life. It was at Windsor that Richard bade a last farewell to his child-queen, Isabella of France, then eleven years of age. The scene is touchingly described by a contemporary chronicler, who states that the King and Queen walked hand in hand from the Castle to the Lower Court, and entered the Deanery, passing thence into the chapel. After chanting a collect, Richard took his Queen into his arms, and kissing her twelve or thirteen times, said sorrowfully:—"Adieu, ma chère, until we meet again; I commend me to you." Then the Queen began to weep, saying to the King:—"Alas! my lord, will you leave me here?" The royal pair then partook of comfits and wine in the Deanery, the King kissing his Queen many times and lifting her in his arms. "And by our lady, I never saw so great a lord," continues the chronicler, "make so much of nor show such great affection to a lady as did King Richard to his Queen. Great pity was it that they separated, for never saw they each other more."
After Richard's deposition and death, Isabella was detained by Henry IV., who would have married her to his madcap son, Prince Hal. Eventually, however, she married the Duc d'Orleans, this time choosing a husband much younger than herself.
A conspiracy against Henry IV. came to a head at Windsor, when the Duke of Exeter seized and searched the castle. Henry, however, had had timely warning, and had fled. "He rode to London and made him strong to ride on his enemies," and crushed the rebellion. The Castle during this reign held two unfortunate young prisoners, the Earl of March, whose only fault was his descent from an elder son of Edward III., Henry himself being descended from a younger branch; the other was one of the most unfortunate of the hapless house of Stuart, James Stuart. The king, his father, had sent him to France to complete his education. Henry, however, fearful of an alliance between France and Scotland, seized the Prince's vessel, and sent James to Windsor, declaring jocularly that England possessed good French teachers. Henry kept his word, and the young prince received a good education. He seems in every respect to have been treated as suited his rank, and was allowed plenty of freedom, sharing in all the festivities of the court. From his tower window he beheld and fell in love with the fair Joanna Beaufort, the king's niece, whom he eventually married. His return to Scotland marked the beginning of a sad and gloomy reign, and he was assassinated by his unruly nobles in 1437, to whom he had made himself odious by trying to curb their power.
In 1416, the Emperor Sigismund was present at the feast of St. George, bringing as an offering the heart of St. George, which remained in the chapel till the Reformation.
Whilst Henry V. was besieging Meaux he heard of the birth of his son. "But when he heard reported the places of his nativity, were it that he, warned by some prophesie, or had some fore-knowledge, or else judged himself of his son's fortune, he said unto the Lord Fitz Hugh, his trusty chamberlain, these words, 'My lord, I, Henry, born at Monmouth, shall small time reign and much get, and Henry, born at Windsor, shall long reign and all lose; but as God will, so be it.'" Although this unfortunate Henry of Windsor spent all his early years at his birthplace, the Castle fell into a very neglected condition. On his marriage with Margaret of Anjou, some necessary repairs were made for her reception, and during his illness, in 1453, Henry lived here.
Edward IV. was the first monarch interred at Windsor, where his little daughter Mary and his son George of Clarence, supposed to have been drowned in a cask of wine, had been buried before him. In 1484, the remains of Henry VI. were removed from Chertsey Abbey, and interred beside those of his rival. In 1789 some workmen came across the lead coffin of Edward IV. On opening it the entire skeleton was found, measuring 6 feet 3½ inches in length. A lock of brown hair taken from the coffin is in the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford. A bone of the leg was publicly sold by auction with the museum of a private collector a few years ago. It was understood at the time that the dishonoured relic was taken back to Windsor.
The poet Earl of Surrey was much at Windsor in his early life, and was imprisoned there in 1546. In one of his poems he gives a description of the large green courts, the stately seats, the secret groves, the wild forests, and other delights of the place. He was beheaded in 1547 for denying the king's supremacy in the church.
Queen Jane Seymour was buried at Windsor Castle with much pomp, a life-sized figure of the deceased was upon the pall, with a rich crown of gold upon her head, the hair all loose, a sceptre of gold in her right hand, and adorned with finger-rings and a necklace of gold and precious stones. In his will, Henry VIII. commanded that his body should be laid beside that of his "true and loving wife, Queen Jane."
Queen Elizabeth was very fond of Windsor Castle, and sometimes remained all the autumn and over Christmas. Between 1569 and 1577, more than £1000 a year was spent on improvements, which, remembering Elizabeth's parsimony, is very surprising. It is said that Elizabeth desired to see "Falstaff in love," and therefore it was that Shakespeare laid the scene of the "Merry Wives" at Windsor. As Elizabeth was very fond of riding, many a gay cavalcade of beautiful ladies and gallant gentlemen must have issued from the gates of Windsor, whilst many a magnificent pageant must have been held, and many must have been the love scenes enacted here, during her long reign.
There are several old descriptions of the Castle at this period still extant, and among the Harleian MSS., is one generally attributed to Stowe. "Upon the north syde and uttar part of whiche (describing the Terrace) lodgings also, betwene the same and the browe or fall of the hill which is very stepe and pitche, is an excellent walk or baye, rennynge all along the sayd buyldyngs and the syd of the castele borne upp and susteyned with arches and boteres of stone and tymber rayled brest highe which is in lengthe 360 paces, and in bredthe 7, of such and excellent grace to the beholders and passers by lyenge open to the syght even afarre off; that the statelynes, pleasure, beautie, and the use thereof semethe to contend one with another which of them should have the superioritie."
In 1642, the Parliamentary army occupied Windsor, and in the following year fifty-five political prisoners were lodged here under the command of Colonel Venn, who despoiled the chapel, and destroyed the deer in the Great Park. In 1647, Charles I. was a prisoner in the palace of his ancestors. After escaping from Hampton Court, and being confined in Carisbrook, he was brought back to Windsor in close custody of Colonel Whitchcott. The Governor was allowed £20 a day for his expenses. A month later, in January, 1649, he was removed to London. After his execution at Whitehall there ensued much discussion as to his place of burial, Windsor finally being chosen. A hearse, driven by the King's old coachman, and attended by four servants, conveyed the body to Windsor. The Governor refused to allow the use of the Burial Service in the Common Prayer-book. With much difficulty the vault of Henry VIII. and Jane, his wife, was discovered. The Duke of Richmond scratched on a piece of lead, "King Charles, 1648," the year being then reckoned to end on the 25th of March. The following day the King's coffin was brought out when "presently it began to snow, and the snow fell so fast that by the time the corpse came to the west end of the Royal Chapel, the black velvet pall was all white, the colour of innocency, being thick covered with snow." The coffin was placed on two trestles in the vault, and the velvet pall thrown in upon it. "Thus went the White King to his grave in the 48th year of his age," without ceremony or religious service.
In Charles II.'s reign the State apartments were remodelled, the architect being May, who probably only carried out the designs of Sir Christopher Wren. Verrio painted the walls and ceilings, and Gibbons carved the fittings. The £70,000 voted for a tomb to the memory of Charles I., was probably spent in these new buildings. Samuel Pepys visited Windsor in 1666, and was conducted to "where the late king is buried, and King Henry and my Lady Seymour. This being done to the King's house, and to observe the neatness and contrivance of the house and gates. It is the most romantique castle that is in the world. But Lord! the prospect that is in the balcone that is in the Queen's lodgings, and the terrace and walk, are strange things to consider, being the best in the world, sure; and so, giving a great deal of money to this and that man and woman, we to our tavern and there dined."
James II. lived much at Windsor. His daughter Anne here gave birth to a child, baptised Anne Sophia, who, dying soon after, was buried in Henry VIII.'s vault. James alienated his subjects by committing the fatal error of receiving the Papal Nuncio. It was here also that the Prince of Orange held the consultation which resulted in the flight of James.
In 1700, the Duke of Gloucester, the longest lived of all Anne's nineteen children, died at Windsor, to the great grief of the nation. It was in one of the rooms now forming part of the Royal Library, of this castle that Queen Anne was sitting with the Duchess of Marlborough, when the news of the great victory of Blenheim arrived.
The first and second Georges did not care for Windsor, but it was a favourite residence of George III., but into such dilapidation was it allowed to fall, that in 1778 it was declared uninhabitable. It was therefore resolved to keep what was standing from falling into ruins, but to build a new lodge on the site of the house which Queen Anne preferred as a residence to the magnificence of the Castle.
The new residence was a long, narrow building with battlements facing north towards the old Castle walls. It was here that Queen Charlotte lived when Fanny Burney, the author of "Evelina," afterwards known as Madame d'Arblay, was her maid-of-honour. According to Miss Burney's diary, the life at Windsor must have furnished anything but the excitement which is supposed to be the necessary element of court life. At eight o'clock, the king and queen attended prayers in the private chapel. In the afternoon, the king and queen and the princesses walked on the terrace. On this terrace, by-the-by, there is a sun-dial, which was the cause of an interesting little incident. The King and the Duke of York were one day walking on the terrace, when the king leant his arms on the sun-dial. A sentry immediately came forward and respectfully, but decidedly, informed the king that it was part of his duty to prevent any person from touching the dial. The king was so charmed, that he commended the soldier to his colonel, and he was shortly afterwards promoted. Every evening there was music in the concert-room, the king being very fond of Handel. In 1788, Miss Burney describes one of the king's attacks. The Prince of Wales and his brother, and several doctors and equerries sat up all night, whilst the king raved up and down an adjoining room, and made occasional excursions in various apartments, addressing wild accusations of neglect to each and every of his attendants, till at length, Mr. Fairly, one of them, led him gently but forcibly away. During the king's illness, the Prince of Wales and Duke of York lodged in the Castle, and even held formal dinners there, whence it may be deduced that formerly even the royal kitchen in the Castle had fallen into desuetude.
Although the Queen's Lodge was now the chief royal residence, some attention was paid to the restoration of the ancient Castle, and in 1800, James Wyatt built a new staircase, and also restored some apartments looking on to the north terrace, whither the old king was removed during his last attack. On his death, he was laid under the chapel at the east end of St. George's, in the vault which in 1810 had been erected for his daughter Amelia.
During the reigns of George IV. and William IV., James Wyatt's brother, Jeffry Wyatt, whom George IV. knighted and called Wyatville, continued the work of restoration, and gradually nearly all traces of the Castle as it was during the latter part of the eighteenth century disappeared. He raised the Round Tower to its present height, designed the plan for the east and west sides of the Upper Ward, raised the level of all the roofs, filled up the Brick Court with a grand staircase, and the Horn Court with the Waterloo Gallery, united the stables, which were dotted throughout the Town, on Castle Hill, and built the Brunswick Tower, and the York and Lancaster Tower. It is to Wyatville's good taste and fine artistic perceptions that we owe the fact that Windsor retains its characteristics of a mediæval fortress, and has not been converted into a stiffly symmetrical building, then so much affected.
George IV.'s favourite residence was a lodge near the Long Walk, but two years before his death he removed to the Castle, and his long illness kept him prisoner here till his death. In the same room, later on called the Queen's Drawing-room, exactly seven years later, King William also died.
The chapel of St. George was made a Chapel Royal by Edward III. in 1348. The office of dean was, till the reign of Henry IV., held by a dignitary designated by the name of "custos." John Arundel, in Henry IV.'s reign, being the first to bear the title of "dean." At first the chapel was dedicated to St. Edward, but gradually, owing to its connection with the Order of the Garter, St. George superseded the former patron saint. Later on, Henry VII. had intended to make this chapel the tomb of his race, and the work was actually commenced when the king turned his attention to Westminster. Henry VIII. presented the chapel to Wolsey, and, about 1524, the Cardinal employed Benedetto of Florence to build a sumptuous sarcophagus of black marble, decorated with figures of copper gilt. After his disgrace, the magnificent metalwork lay neglected till the governorships of Colonel Venn and Colonel Whichcott, when these functionaries sold various figures and images as old brass, and realised a very handsome sum by the transaction. In 1805, the marble sarcophagus was removed to St. Paul's, to mark the grave of Lord Nelson.
In 1686 when James II. was mis-ruling the land, he expended some £700 on repairing the chapel and in solemnizing high mass. In George III.'s reign the chapel was made the Royal Mausoleum, and Princess Amelia was the first to be interred in it. His wife, his sister, and six of his children and grandchildren were buried in the vault before George himself. There is room for forty-nine coffins, and already twenty-one have been placed in it, the Duke of Clarence and Avondale having been the last. Although the Prince Consort is buried at Frogmore, Wolsey's Tomb-house was selected as the site for the magnificent memorial in his honour. The interior of the chapel is lined with marble and mosaic, the walls are covered with reliefs, the windows are of stained glass. The cenotaph stands in front of the magnificent altar, and supports a recumbent statue, a personification of the Christian soldier described by St. Paul, of white marble, the face being a portrait of the Prince. A hound, a portrait of the Prince's favourite dog Eos, sits at his feet. This chapel, built by Henry III., and dedicated to St. Edward, and later on, known as Wolsey's Tomb-House, remains now as the Albert Memorial Chapel, one of the most splendid monuments of the age. In the State Apartments there are many articles interesting on account of antiquity or associations. The Malachite Vase in the Ball Room is the best of its kind in England, the French tapestry is said to be unequalled, the Sévres porcelain is exquisitely delicate and beautiful. Many picture-frames, especially in the ante-room, are to be found, the work of Grinling Gibbons. Portraits by Vandyck in his best style abound, and there is a splendid series of portraits by Holbein. In the Guard Chamber there is a shield presented by Francis I. to Henry VIII. on the field of the Cloth of Gold, the work of Benvenuto Cellini.
The Library at Windsor is remarkably large and good, William IV. having gathered here the various collections at Kew, Hampton Court, and Kensington, and having brought to light many antiquarian treasures. Amongst these are the three volumes of the collection of drawings of Leonardo de Vinci, brought to England from Holland by Sir Peter Lely, and bought by Charles II., and the series of eighty-seven studies in red chalk and Indian ink of the principal personages of Henry VIII.'s Court by Hans Holbein. The illuminated manuscripts, both European and Oriental are of much historical interest, and amongst them may be mentioned the "Mentz Psalter," of 1457, a copy of Coverdale's Bible of 1535, and the only perfect copy now in existence of Caxton's Æsop's Fables of 1484.
In the strong room are many gorgeous treasures of plate and jewels, and a set of golden dinner plates sufficient for a hundred guests, a wine-fountain taken from the Spanish Armada, Tippoo's jewelled peacock and solid gold footstool, in the shape of a tiger's head, and many other curiosities too numerous for mention. Some of the state apartments, especially the library, contain fine mantelpieces and panellings of great age, some going as far back as the sixteenth century.
After the Castle itself, the chief glory of Windsor is the Great Park, the remnant of a tract of 180 miles in circuit, which formed the happy hunting-ground of our mediæval kings. It is joined to the town and Castle by the Long Walk, the noble avenue of elms planted by Charles II. The Park is gently undulating, and dotted here and there with magnificent oaks and beeches, sometimes standing singly, sometimes in thick clumps. Looking from George the Fourth's Gateway to the gilt statue which he erected to "the best of fathers," the beauty of the landscape thrills one with the satisfaction of perfection. The spirit of romance seems to pervade each fairy glade and hill, and visions of days long past arise before us, when lord and ladye fair on fiery steeds rode through the enchanted spot, and paused in their pursuit of the bounding deer, moved by the genius of the place, to whisper words of love. An oak measuring 26 feet 10 inches, at the height of 5 feet from the ground, is reckoned to be 800 years old. Three oaks in Cranbourne Chase, the oldest of which is probably 450 years, are called respectively, Queen Anne, Queen Charlotte, and Queen Victoria, these names it is scarcely necessary to explain, having been given since they evolved from their sapling stage. Herne's Oak, which Shakespeare memorialises in The Merry Wives, was, according to some blown down in a storm in 1863, and a sapling was planted to mark the spot. According to others it was cut down in mistake with other decayed trees by order of George III. At one corner of the Park there are some dozen oak trees, all as old as the Norman Conquest.
In fact, wherever one glances, be it at an old elm, or a bit of old carving half hidden in grass, or a china cup in the drawing-room, or a picture in the library, from the marble sarcophagus erected in memory of the Prince Consort to a blade of grass on the terrace, one finds endless cause for interest and deeper investigation. Such historical associations cling to every stone or crumb of earth, such romantic stories are whispered to one at every turn, such echoes of old-world times are re-called at every foot-fall, that no one could weary of visiting again and again this wondrous spot, to dream of bygone faces, fashions, and manners. And as one gazes, one feels the same pride in its beauty as stirred the hearts of Henry III. and Edward III., one understands the desire of the world-satiated Henry VIII. to rest in peace by the side of his best loved queen under those cool gray stones, and one feels a deep thankfulness that the storm-tossed Charles is at rest for evermore in that calm, sanctified, world-remote spot.
And Windsor does more than turn one's thoughts down the vista of past ages, it ennobles, it purifies. A reverence, an awe that only the sublime can inspire, takes possession of one's heart when one contemplates this most glorious of England's royal homes. Nor has the hand of time dimmed its lustre. Windsor is still the home of the illustrious Queen whom all her subjects delight to honour. It is associated with tender memories of all the joys and many sorrows which the Ruler of our mighty Empire has experienced during the course of her long and glorious reign. And when we reflect on all that our Queen has done for the welfare of our nation, and of the vast Empire over which she rules, we can but echo the Laureate's words:—
"May she rule us long,
And leave us rulers of her blood
As noble till the latest day!
May children of our children say,
She wrought her people lasting good;
Her court was pure; her life serene;
God gave her peace; her land reposed;
A thousand claims to reverence closed
In her a Mother, Wife, and Queen."
And ever mindful of her great sorrow let us say:—
"The love of all Thy sons encompass Thee,
The love of all Thy daughters cherish Thee,
The love of all Thy people comfort Thee,
Till God's love set Thee at His side again."
Wallingford Castle
The Castle, to which Wallingford owes its importance through six centuries of our annals, may have had its origin in a primitive fortress belonging to the original settlement upon the river-bank. But its actual history begins in the reign of Edward the Confessor, who, according to Domesday, had fifteen acres here, where a body of his huscarles or military retainers lived; these acres being the same that Milo Crispin, the Norman lord of the Castle, was occupying at the time of the Survey.
Whatever fortress existed in Edward's day was held by Wigod, the kinsman and cupbearer to the King; and the fact that Wigod favoured the cause of the Norman Duke, coupled with the circumstance of an advantageous position on an important ford of the river, caused Wallingford and its Castle to become what they were in history.
Hither, in consequence of the welcome offered by the English Thane, William came after the Battle of Hastings, when London was fortified against him; and here he received the homage of Archbishop Stigand and the English nobles. Before moving back towards London he made the Norman influence secure at Wallingford by the marriage of his favourite chieftain, Robert D'Oilgi, with Wigod's daughter, who became eventually, if she was not already, heiress of the castle; for her only brother fell in battle, fighting by William's side against his son Robert. The King remained to take part in the festivities of the marriage, and ordered D'Oilgi to build a castle upon his new inheritance. In five years the castle was completed. D'Oilgi had an only daughter, Maud, who was married to another Norman chieftain, Milo Crispin, and after his death she became the wife of Brien Fitz-Count.
Tradition and history point to each of these lords in turn as having made additions to the castle which their father-in-law erected; for Crispin is said to have been the founder of the Collegiate Church in the southern precinct, and Fitz-Count is recorded as the builder of the famous dungeon called Cloere Brien, or Brien's Close, in the north-western precinct. Further additions and renovations were made in later times; but under these Norman owners the Castle must have extended itself to the dimensions which it retained to the last, and of which we can still trace the relics.
RUINS, WALLINGFORD CASTLE.
From the river bank a few yards above the bridge it is easy to form an idea of what the great Norman fortress was. The lofty mound upon which the Keep was built, perhaps a prehistoric tumulus in its origin, is still the most prominent object, though all vestiges of the tower and its outworks have now disappeared, giving place to a luxuriant growth of forest trees. Close beside this mound, traces of the southern moat are to be seen, opening out upon the ditch which still separates the castle grounds from the meadow beside the river. The broken ground rising within the ditch shows the line of the eastern front of the castle with its projecting bastions overlooking the river, though all that now remains is an ivy-covered ruin with the opening of a large window, known as the Queen's Tower. In the background, and more to the right, is another fragmentary ruin, forming a central portion of the north wall; while a modern boat-house marks the outflow of the moat at its north-eastern angle. From this point along the northern front a triple entrenchment is clearly shown by the undulations of the ground; the innermost ditch, close beneath the wall, being the moat of the Castle itself, while the second is the moat of the Castle precincts enclosing a space of intermediate ground on the west and south, and the outermost is the moat which enclosed the whole town; the three being brought close together in parallel lines along this side of the Castle. It must have been from this point of view, that Leland, in Henry the Eighth's reign, described the Castle as having "three dikes, large, deep, and well watered; about each of the two first dikes are embattled walls, sore in ruin and for the most part defaced; all the goodly buildings, with the towers and dungeon, be within the three dikes." Camden, who tells that "the size and magnificence of the Castle used to strike me with amazement when I came hither, a lad, from Oxford," describes it more accurately as "environed with a double wall and a double ditch."
South of the great mound and its protecting moat is the ruined tower and south wall of the Collegiate Church of St. Nicholas, now surmounted by a modern turret; and adjoining it are some fragments of the other buildings of the college, with a good doorway and some windows of perpendicular character. Beyond these ruins a large portion of the second moat is to be seen. The south-western angle of the precincts, with the banks of the moat well preserved before it and behind it, is occupied by the modern dwelling-house. Lastly, near the north-western angle, where this outer precinct ends, the site of Brien Fitzcount's dungeon is shown; and the remains of it, with massive rings fixed to the stonework, existed here within the present century.
If the Norman Conqueror himself gained no direct advantage from the castle which he required D'Oilgi to build, his policy certainly bore its fruit in the days of his grandchildren. In the civil wars of Stephen's reign Brien Fitzcount was a leading supporter of Maud, the daughter of Henry Beauclerk and widow of the Emperor Henry IV. of Germany. The escape of the Empress from Oxford Castle, her flight in white garments through snow and ice by night to Abingdon, and her safe arrival at Wallingford Castle, are a familiar tale, perhaps embellished through the ages, but well grounded in history. Stephen set up opposing forts across the river at Crowmarsh, and traces of them may still be seen on either side of the road near the eastern end of the bridge, while the meadow on the north is still called the Barbican.
Terrible stories are told of the sufferings endured by followers of Stephen who had the misfortune to become prisoners here under Fitzcount's custody; and for one influential prisoner, William Martel, the new dungeon of Brien's Close was made, from which he was only released on condition of delivering up the Castle of Shirburn and its adjacent lands as a ransom. Throughout the war Wallingford Castle under its indomitable lord was the most powerful of all the strongholds of the empress; and it was here, in a meadow beneath the walls, that the war was ended, through the treaty proposed by the Earl of Arundel, granting the kingdom to Stephen for his life and the succession to the Empress's son, Henry Plantagenet.
Brien Fitzcount took the cross and died in the Holy Land; his wife spent the rest of her life in a convent; their two sons were lepers; and the Castle of Wallingford passed to the new King, Henry II. The part which it had taken in the cause of the Empress and her son had its reward in the high position which it occupied under the Plantagenet Kings. Henry favoured the town with special privileges, apparently exceeding any that were granted elsewhere; and here, at Easter 1155, he held his first Parliament. At Henry's death, Richard Cœur de Lion, before starting for the Holy Land, gave to his brother John the Honour of Wallingford; and one of John's first acts of rebellion was to gain possession of the Castle also, which the King had left in charge of the Archbishop of Rouen. When the barons under the Earl of Leicester recovered it for the King, the Queen Dowager, Eleanor of Poitou, became its custodian; and it is probably from her that the ruined fragment of the east front bore the name of the Queen's Tower, and from her also, we must presume, the meadow in front of it was called the Queen's Arbour. The value which John set upon the place still continued when he became King, as we may infer from his frequent visits to it, and the additions which he made to its garrison. His younger son, Richard, Earl of Cornwall and afterwards King of the Romans, was made Constable at the close of John's reign; and the Castle and Honour was eventually bestowed upon him by his brother Henry III.
Earl Richard probably did more both for the castle and the town than any other of its lords. He lived here in great state, enriching the townsmen by the liberal expenditure of his wealth and by the hospitality with which he entertained the court and the nobles of the realm. Two years after he came into possession he built the great hall of the Castle, and though this has disappeared, some of the arches of the bridge survive, vaulted with massive ribs, which certainly belong to this period and are probably Richard's work. Here too he brought his second bride, Senchia of Provence, in 1242, when the King and his court took part in sumptuous festivities to welcome her. He was elected King of the Romans in 1256, but the subsequent coronation at Rome, which would have made him German Emperor, never took place. Afterwards, when he was absent in Germany, the barons under Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, were rebelling against the King, and Wallingford Castle fell into their hands. The Countess of Leicester was residing here in 1262, when the Earl visited her and a hundred and sixty-two horses were picketed within the Castle walls. The next year Richard was again in possession, and repelled successfully an assault of the barons; but after the disastrous battle of Lewes in 1264, it fell into Leicester's hands once more, and both Richard and the King, as well as Prince Henry, the son of Richard, were prisoners in it. The two Kings were removed to Kenilworth; but the next year, when Prince Edward, the King's son, defeated the barons at Evesham, King Henry was restored to his throne and Richard returned to his Castle. He died in the spring of 1272, and Wallingford Castle, together with the earldom of Cornwall, passed to his son Edmund. The new earl maintained the magnificence of his father. At the close of the year he introduced his bride, Margaret de Clare, sister of the Earl of Gloucester, with a splendid entertainment; he frequently received as a guest his cousin, King Edward I.; and he so largely augmented the Collegiate Church of St. Nicholas in the Castle that he is often called its founder. When he died, in 1299, Wallingford fell to the King. Immediately upon the accession of Edward II., the Earldom of Cornwall, with the lordship of Wallingford, was bestowed upon his unworthy favourite, Piers de Gaveston, who married Earl Edmund's widow; but his insolent career was cut short by the Earl of Warwick, under whose custody he was beheaded at Blacklow Hill. Another of the King's favourites, Hugh Despencer the younger, held the Castle and Honour for a time, until, in 1326, he fell a victim to the vengeance of Queen Isabella, who was now in open rebellion against her husband. She had already become possessed of the Castle, and eventually bestowed it upon her paramour, Roger Mortimer. Then followed the horrible murder of Edward II. at Berkeley; then Mortimer paid the penalty of his crimes at Tyburn, and Isabella became a prisoner at Castle Rising. Edward III. erected the earldom of Cornwall into a dukedom, and Parliament settled it in perpetuity upon the sovereign's eldest son, the Castle and Honour of Wallingford being one of the possessions by which the princely dignity was to be supported. Thus the Black Prince became its lord for forty years. After his marriage with Joan, the Fair Maid of Kent, in 1361, this was their most frequent place of residence. Here also the princess remained during the nine years of her widowhood, and here she died, and probably was buried, in 1385. Meanwhile the Black Death had visited the town in 1343; the population had been greatly diminished; several of the fourteen churches had been closed, never to be re-opened; the prosperity and attractiveness of the place was gone, and the Castle was no longer chosen as a favourite residence of royalty. But when it reverted to the crown at the death of the Princess, it was kept up as a military fortress of the first rank, under a constable appointed by the king, and its prominence in history was scarcely lessened. John Beaufort, the son of John of Gaunt, became constable in 1397, and two years later Thomas Chaucer was appointed. He was the reputed son, probably the step-son, of Geoffrey Chaucer the poet, and was almost certainly, like his predecessor, of royal but illegitimate parentage. Under his custody, the youthful Queen Isabella of Valois, the affianced bride of Richard II., was protected at the time of Bolingbroke's invasion, until Richard became a prisoner and the Castle surrendered to the usurper, when the child-queen was carried from one place to another, and at last, in her fourteenth year, returned as a widow to her home in France. A letter of the new King, Henry IV., to his council, relating to Queen Isabella's departure, is dated from Wallingford in 1402. Chaucer was still the constable when the Castle and Honour were settled by King Henry V. upon his bride, Katherine of Valois, at their marriage in 1420. Two years later, the infant King Henry VI. succeeded to his throne, and in 1428, when he was taken from his mother's care, the Castle of Wallingford was assigned to him as one of his summer residences, under the guardianship of the Earl of Warwick. Chaucer died in 1434, and William de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk, his son-in-law, appears to have succeeded him as constable of the Castle. Here Suffolk had under his charge an important captive, Owen Tudor, an esquire of the body to the king, as he had been previously to Henry V. with whom he had fought at Agincourt; and here in his dungeon a secret marriage is said to have taken place between Tudor and the Dowager Queen Katherine, who had long been attached to him, the ceremony being performed by a priest who was his fellow-prisoner, while a servant who attended him was the only witness. Suffolk, now raised to a dukedom, was accused by the populace of betraying his country to the French and preparing to fortify Wallingford on their behalf; and while the King befriended him, he was barbarously beheaded at sea; but his widow Alice, Chaucer's daughter, was made custodian of the Castle in his place. The House of Lancaster had raised Alice de la Pole to her dignities and honours; yet when the commencement of the Wars of the Roses favoured the rival house, she at once transferred her support to the Yorkists. In 1461, Edward of York became King, and the reward of Alice's faithlessness was the marriage of the young Duke, her son, with the lady Elizabeth, the King's sister, while she herself retained her Castle. There the heartless duchess and her son received under their custody the ex-Queen Margaret of Anjou, who had been the friend and patroness of her youth, but who now remained for five years her prisoner, until in 1476 her ransom was paid, and she returned to France.
In the events of the succeeding years there is little of immediate connection with Wallingford. Lord Lovell, who had been a ward of the Duke of Suffolk, was made constable by Richard III., but he fled to Flanders when his master fell at Bosworth. Henry VII. reinstated Suffolk in the office, which he held for life, in spite of the rebellion of his son, Lord Lincoln, whom Edward IV., his uncle, had designated as his heir. After him the office was held for a time by Arthur, Prince of Wales. On one occasion at least, in 1518, Henry VIII. and his Court appear to have been residing here. Some twelve years later he entirely renovated the College of St. Nicholas; to which shortly afterwards "a fair steeple of stone," as Leland describes it, was added by Dr. Underhill, the Dean. No new appointment to the office of constable appears until 1535, when it was granted to Henry Norris, a nephew of the Lord Lovell who had held it fifty years before; but after six months he fell a victim to the King's displeasure and died upon the scaffold. In 1540 an Act of Parliament separated the Castle and Honour from the Duchy of Cornwall and annexed it to the Crown.
Edward VI. dissolved the College, and its buildings were shortly afterwards dismantled, together with those of the Castle-Keep and the Gatehouse. In the next reigns the lead and stones were conveyed in large quantities to Windsor Castle to be used in repairs and in building the Poor Knights' lodgings. Yet the main fabric of the Castle remained, and was used for the imprisonment of heretics in the early years of Elizabeth. During all this time Sir Francis Knollys was constable, having been appointed to the office by Edward VI. in 1551. In the latter part of Elizabeth's reign he was succeeded by his son, Sir William, who became Viscount Wallingford under James I., and Earl of Banbury under Charles I.
We come now to the closing scene. The Castle was strongly fortified by King Charles at the commencement of the Civil War, and Colonel Blagge, an officer of distinguished courage in the King's army, was placed in charge of it, the King coming for a day and night to inspect the fortifications in 1643. Three years later, when every other castle had been captured except Raglan on the Welsh border and Pendennis in Cornwall, Wallingford still held out for the King's cause. The town was closely surrounded by the troops of the Parliament; but as long as there was any possibility of resistance the Governor refused to yield. For sixty-five days the resistance lasted, and only five of the garrison had fallen. At last, when all supplies were exhausted, Colonel Blagge consented to make terms with Fairfax; and on July 29th, 1646, he was permitted to lead out his officers and men with flying colours and martial music as if they had been the victors. The Castle was a state prison during the remainder of the war, but the old sentiment seems to have lingered about the place to the last. In 1652 a conspiracy was detected for delivering it up to King Charles II., for which a soldier of the garrison was condemned to death, and an order was issued for the demolition of the building.
The last of the line of constables was Edmund Dunch, appointed by his cousin Oliver Cromwell, who also created him Baron Burnell of East Wittenham in 1658; but Dunch became a strong supporter of the King's restoration. The demolition had then been effected, and part of the materials were used in building the tower of St. Mary's Church. During the eighteenth century the estate was let on lease, and afterwards sold to private owners by the Commissioners of the Crown; while the broken fragments which are left of the Castle tell the story of the completeness of its ruin, and serve as a memorial of its ancient greatness.
Cumnor Place and Amy Robsart
A Benedictine abbey was founded as is well known at Abingdon, in the seventh century, and to this rich and powerful monastery, Cumnor appears from the very first to have belonged. Its earliest mention is found in the "Chronicles of the Monastery of Abingdon," in which "the book," probably a register or cartulary is repeatedly referred to.
Cumnor according to Dugdale is derived from Cumanus, second abbot of Abingdon, who died circa 784, but Dr. Buckler, author of "Stemmata Chicheleana," and keeper of the Archives of Oxford University, who was vicar of Cumnor for twenty-five years, suggests St. Coleman or Cuman, an Irish or Scottish saint, who lived in the sixth and seventh century. As early as the year 689, Colmonora is mentioned in a Latin deed in the Abingdon Chronicle, twenty hides of land there being conferred upon the Abbey by a Charter of Ceadwalla, and again in a similar deed, being a Charter of Kenulph, dated 851, in which is an illuminated portrait of that King. An Anglo-Saxon boundary attached to Eadred's confirmation Charter to Abingdon in 955, mentions Cumnor, as does also a subsequent charter of Edgar, 968, which also has a carefully defined boundary attached to it, and the biography of St. Ethelwold, who refounded the Abbey after its destruction by the Danes, 240 years after the original foundation of Abbot Heane. It is very improbable that these documents are authentic. They may possibly be copies, but are more probably forgeries, made for various purposes in later years, based in many instances doubtless upon the fabulous history of Geoffrey of Monmouth, who died about 1154, leaving what was professedly the translation of a work in the British tongue made at the request of Walter, Archdeacon of Oxford. It contains perhaps a modicum of fact, but is not dependable; it has been largely drawn upon by later so called historians and romancers. Nevertheless there is every reason to believe that Cumnor from the very earliest times belonged to Abingdon Abbey, its name in early documents being written Cumenoran, and the Church is known to have been one out of but three spared by the Danes, when they ravished the district around and destroyed Abingdon in the reign of Alfred the Great.
The Norman Conquest has left us more certain and dependable records. From the survey of Domesday we ascertain that Comenore in 1086 contained thirty hides of land, having been rated tempore Regis Edwardi, at fifty hides. It will be remembered the early English Charters gave twenty hides as its extent, so that the Manor had by this time been either added to, or the hidation varied, possibly both. The Manor maintained sixty villani, sixty-nine bordarii or freemen, with four servi or bondsmen; the Church is mentioned, as also two fisheries of the value of forty shillings yearly. Sevacoord, or Seacourt, and Winteham probably Wytham, were a portion of Cumnor which is the first manor mentioned in Domesday Book, belonging to the Abbey of Abingdon, and in evidence of ancient right it is expressly written there:—"Semper fuit de Abbatia." Cumnor Church is again alluded to in a Papal Bull dated 1152, but there are now no visible traces of this edifice. The present church which underwent thorough restoration some forty years ago, having previously suffered by injudicious alterations at various times, is of the Transition period, the most ancient portion being the tower, according to the dicta of ecclesiastical architects, not erected before the year 1250. Many objects of great interest to the Archæologist are yet preserved in and about the church, despite the more recent restorations. Among others, are two stone coffins, enclosing the remains of former Abbots of Abingdon, two piscinæ, and of yet more recent date the tomb of Anthony Forster, of whom I shall have something to say presently. Some of the stone carvings within the church, are of great delicacy, being remarkably fine examples of fourteenth century work, in the shape of two corbels, the capitals of three columns, a window, and the portion of an arch.
In the chancel are some poppy heads, carved upon both sides; on one is the sacred monogram I.H. S. upon a shield, upon another the five stigmata, i.e., the pierced feet, the hands, and heart of the Saviour, also a cross; upon the reverses are also carved the crucifixial emblems,—the ladder, spear, and reed or staff, to which is affixed a sponge; there are also the hammer, pincers, and three nails. Upon the upper shield are the Vestments, the crown of thorns, and bag of money.
CUMNOR CHURCH.
A letter referring to Cumnor Church during the Civil Wars, written by a member of the Pecock or Peacock family is printed in Mercurius Academicus. This family held the Manor at that period, Richard Pecock compounding for his estate by paying the considerable sum of £140. Many of the family lie buried in Cumnor Church, and the school is mainly supported by the legacy of a Mrs. Peacock.
The letter refers principally to the conduct of certain soldiers, who, finding nothing worth removing, took down the weathercock, "that might have been left alone to turn round," and did much other damage. The letter is dated Thursday, February 26th, 1644, and is as follows:—"To present you with as honest men as those of Evesham and honeste you will not deeme them to be when you heare they came from Abingdon, to a place called Cumner in no smaller a number than 500; where the chieftains view the church, goe up into the steeple and overlook the country as if they meant to garrison there, but finding it not answerable to their hopes and desires they descend, but are loathe to depart without leaving a mark of their iniquitie and impiety behind them. Some they employ to take down the weather cock (that might have been left alone to turn round), others take down a cross from off an isle of the church (and this you must not blame them for they are enemies to the cross), others to plunder the countrymens' houses of bread, beare, and bacon, and whatsoever else was fit for sustentation."
There is also copied in a late seventeenth century MS. volume in the British Museum, (Harl. 6365, 53 b.), an epitaph, which, I believe, may yet be seen in the church, and is rather quaint and curious.
From the same MS.,[2] I copied a description of Anthony Forsters monument. "In ye chancell against ye north wall, a great marble monument with pillars of marble. On a plate of brass faced to it ye picture of a man in armour, kneeling before a table upon a book. At the foot thereof, his helmett, at ye sides his gauntletts, over against him his wife kneeling, as her husband. Behind her three children, between them this coat; 3 Bugles, Q, 3 phœons, points upwards, with mantling and crest, which is a stag, lodged, and regardant. Gu. charged on ye shoulder, with a martlett, or, and pierced thro' ye neck with an arrow, ar. Behind the man this coat; 3 Bugles, Q., 3 phœons, points upwards, impaling 2 organ pipes in saltere between 4 crosses, paty. Then follow the quarterings. Behind ye woman is this coat: Williams. Az. 2 organ pipes in saltere between 4 crosses, paty. Quarterings as before described. Under them both a great brass plate, on ye part of it under him the following verses—." These need not now be recorded; they will be found in Ashmole, and also translated in most editions of Scott's Kenilworth. They record his many accomplishments and virtues, and relate he was wise, eloquent, just, charitable, learned in the classics, in literature, music, architecture, and in botany. The date of his death is not mentioned, his burial however is recorded as taking place Nov. 10th, 1572, by the parish register, which cannot err.
CHAINED BIBLE, CUMNOR CHURCH.
He is therein mentioned as A.F., gentleman, the last word being written over an erasure, and it has been thought by some, that an epithet not so complimentary had previously been placed there, but erased, and "gentleman" substituted. I see no reason for such a suggestion; possibly some latin term may originally have been written, e.g., "miles," and the English word "gentleman" was thought more appropriate. At any rate, Anthony Forster was buried at Cumnor, Nov. 10th, 1572. Cumnor Place, Forster's residence, was an early fourteenth century house, used as a residence by the Abbots of Abingdon, and also as a place of removal or sanitorium by the monks, particularly during the plague, or black death, which decimated England under Edward III. At this period, it served both as rectory and manse house, where tithe and rents were paid, and Manorial Courts held, and where tenants were bound to attend to do suit and service for their lands to their superior lords. Such was Cumnor Place, until the dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII. In 1538, it was granted for life by the Crown to Thomas Pentecost or Rowland, last Abbot of Abingdon, in consideration of his having willingly surrendered the Abbey and its possessions to the King. Rowland either died the following year or ceded Cumnor Place to the King, who seems to have retained possession for seven years, when, by patent, dated Windsor, Oct. 8th, 1546, the Lordship, Manor, and rectorial tithes of Cumnor, with all its rights and appurtenances, particularly the Capital Messuage, Cumnor Place, and the close adjoining, called the Park, and three closes called Saffron Plottye, etc., were granted to George Owen, Esq., the King's physician, and to John Bridges, doctor in physic, in consideration of two closes in St. Thomas' parish, Oxford, the site of Rowley Abbey, and the sum of £310 12s. 9d., cash. William Owen, son of Dr. Owen, married, April 24th, 1558, Ursula, daughter of Alexander Fettiplace, the estate being then settled upon him. Shortly afterwards, Cumnor Place was leased to Anthony Forster, and it was in his occupation when occurred the tragic incident which forms the concluding scene in Sir Walter Scott's Kenilworth, the death of Amy Robsart, wife of Sir Robert Dudley, afterwards Earl of Leicester.
In the following year, Anthony Forster purchased the property from Owen, and seems to have greatly enlarged and otherwise improved the mansion. Dying in November, 1572, he devised the estate to Dudley, subject to a payment of £1,200 to Forster's heirs. These conditions, its seems the Earl accepted, but retained possession for a single year only, as is proved by a document among the Longleat papers purporting to be a record of the sale of Cumnor by the Earl of Leicester, to Harry le Norris, ancestor of the Earls of Abingdon, which bears date 15th February, 16th Elizabeth, 1575.
From this time Cumnor seems to have gradually fallen into decay. Possibly the sad end of Lady Dudley may have contributed to this; at all events, rumours were spread among the villagers that her ghost haunted the locality, and a tradition is even yet received by them that her spirit was so unquiet that it required nine parsons from Oxford to lay the ghost, which they at last effectually did, in a pond hard by, the water in which does not freeze it is said, even in the most severe winter. This pond is still shown by the villagers, although they are quite unable to assign any reason for the peculiar conduct of the ghost.
Neglected for nearly a hundred years, a portion of the ruined mansion was then converted into a malthouse, afterwards into labourer's dwellings, and finally demolished in 1810, for the purpose of rebuilding Wytham Church. Among other mementoes of its former owner was an arch bearing upon the label the inscription "Janua Vitæ Verbum Domini. Anthonius Forster, 1575." This, with some handsome tracery windows, was removed to Wytham, the arch being built into the entrance wall of the churchyard. The date and name were for some reason destroyed, possibly to evade an apparent anachronism, for Anthony Forster had been dead two years in 1575. These windows and other objects of interest were engraved in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1821.
It is said and I believe truly, that so great interest was excited in Cumnor Place, by Sir W. Scott's novel, that the Earl of Abingdon was induced to drive some visitors from Wytham to see the ruins, forgetting that some years previously he had given order for their demolition. The disappointment of the party on arriving upon the ground was great, as may be imagined, and not less so that of the Earl, who too late realized his mistake. The disappointment was felt by everybody, for it is said all the world hastened to the site of the tragedy so graphically described by Scott, only to find they were too late. The public was not then aware that its sympathies had been aroused by the vivid imagination and marvellous genius of the novelist, and that while there was just a substratum of fact the greater portion of this historical novel had no foundation other than the great constructive power of the Author. While thousands deplored the untimely fate of Amy Robsart, their sympathies were in truth tributes to the dramatic powers of the novelist, not to the unfortunate heroine; the novel may be said to bristle with chronological inaccuracies, and utter disregard for historic fact.
It has been repeatedly reasoned that novelists should be permitted a certain licence, and in actual fiction this may possibly be; but if the subject and characters chosen are both historical, misconceptions may easily arise, and erroneous statements be indelibly impressed upon the mind of the reader. Let us recall to our memories the outline of Kenilworth, and then notice some of Scott's most glaring historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, and while I have no intention of attempting a defence for Robert Dudley and his followers, for the crime here alleged to have been committed, I believe I shall be able to show that he was, in this instance at any rate, greatly maligned.
The plot in brief is as follows:—Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, son of the Duke of Northumberland, who had been executed for endeavouring to place Lady Jane Grey upon the throne, having secretly married Amy Robsart, desires to be free, and confides his wishes to his retainers, Richard Varney and Anthony Forster. The Countess, who was living in retirement at Cumnor Place, hearing of the festivities given by her husband at Kenilworth, goes secretly there, and has a most affecting interview with Queen Elizabeth, in the course of which the Queen bitterly reproaches Leicester. At length, by specious promises, he prevails upon Amy to return to Cumnor, arranging to come to her as soon as liberated from his attendance upon the Queen. She complies, and is assigned by Forster a portion of the building approached only by a drawbridge in which is concealed a trap-door. At night Varney, riding hastily into the courtyard, gives the Earl's private signal—a peculiar whistle—on hearing which Amy rushes out to meet her husband; but Forster having meanwhile withdrawn the bolts, she falls through the trap. "A faint groan and all is over." Immediate punishment overtakes the criminals. Varney is arrested, but poisons himself in his cell, while Forster, in his hasty endeavour to escape, closes behind him a secret door, and dies a lingering death.
Scott tells us in later editions of Kenilworth (the first was published in 1821), that he based his story upon a beautiful ballad by W.J. Mickle, the translator of Camoens Lusiad, which had deeply impressed him; and Ashmole's Antiquities of Berkshire is cited at length by him as the principal authority upon which the novel was based. But Ashmole was in this instance only a copyist, and his antiquities were not published until 1717, nearly 160 years after Lady Dudley's death. He copied almost verbatim from a most scurrillous work called "Leicester's Commonwealth," published in 1584 for political purposes, known subsequently as "Father Parson's Green Coat," from the colour of the wrapper in which it was introduced from abroad by its author the celebrated Jesuit, Robert Parsons, although the authorship has been attributed to Cecil, Lord Burleigh. It was issued at first in MSS., and eight MS. copies are preserved in the British Museum, and two in the Bodleian. Sir Philip Sidney immediately issued a hasty answer to these charges against his relative, but this was not actually printed until 1746, and had but little effect at the time.
"Leicester's Commonwealth" was no sooner in circulation than the attention of Government was directed to it, and it was stigmatised by the Queen and Privy Council as "most malicious, false, and scandalous, and such as none but an incarnate devil could dream to be true." Without attempting a defence of Leicester, the character of his defamer may assist in forming a judgement how far any of his statements may be received, bearing in mind that both in religion and politics he was antagonistic to the Earl.
Of obscure, if not questionable birth, Parsons was educated in the reformed religion at Balliol College, Oxford, at the expense of his putative father. There he quickly rose to the position of dean and bursar, but was compelled to resign these appointments in order to avoid expulsion for incontinence and embezzlement of college funds. Quitting England for Rome, he then adopted the Romish faith and became a member of the Society of Jesus. Next, visiting Spain, he was most active in urging the Spanish King to despatch the Invincible Armada, and, after its destruction, used all his influence to promote a second invasion. A bold, clever, intriguing, and unscrupulous traitor, he is known to have even contemplated the assassination of Queen Elizabeth, and by his writings to have supported the claims of the Spanish Infanta against King James to the English throne. Such was the man, who did not hesitate to hurl broadcast accusations of the most atrocious character against his opponents, sheltering himself meanwhile abroad from the prosecution his many infamies deserved. To this man principally are traced the calumnies upon Leicester, Varney, and Forster, which have been so unfortunately perpetuated in "Kenilworth."
Much of the interest in the novel centres in the alleged secret marriage of Amy Robsart (who is described as daughter of Sir Hugh Robsart of Devonshire), and Dudley. Amy is made to say, "I am but a disguised Countess, and will not take dignity on me until authorised by him whom I derive it from." Again she is described as "the Countess Amy, for to that rank she was exalted by her private but solemn union with England's proudest Earl," Leicester, as I must here call him, further on saying "She is as surely Countess of Leicester as I am belted Earl."
Now for the facts. Amy was only daughter of Sir John Robsart, a Knight of ancient lineage, belonging to Norfolk, born at Stansfield Hall in that County, afterwards notorious as the scene of the murder of Mr. Isaac Jermy and his son by Rush. She had an illegitimate brother named Arthur, and an elder half-brother by her mother's previous marriage named Appleyard. Among the Longleat papers is a settlement on the husband's side, dated 24th May, 1550, in contemplation of the marriage. On the lady's part a deed executed by her father, Sir John Robsart, is preserved in P.R.O., London, and dated 15th May, 1520. The marriage itself could scarcely have been more public than it was. It must certainly have been well known to the Queen, who not improbably may have been present; her brother, Edward VI., certainly was. I had occasion to examine an autograph diary of this youthful King, now preserved in the British Museum (Cott MS. New Edit. 10), usually described as a "little diary." As a matter of fact the diary is of full quarto size; its first page having the Royal Arms and monogram E.R. in gold and colours. Each leaf has now been placed separately between folio pages for preservation. Bound up with it are many letters from the King, carefully written and principally in latin. In one writing from Hatfield he explains in most affectionate terms that he had delayed writing "Non negligentia sed studium." In this diary is recorded in King Edward's own handwriting that the Court being at Sheen, the old name for Richmond, upon June 4th, 1550.
"S. Robert dudeley, third sonne to th erle of warwic maried S. Jon. Robsartes daughter after wich mariage ther were certain Gentlemen that did strive to who shuld first take away a goses heade wich was hanged alive on tow crose postes. Ther was tilting and tourney on foot on the 5th, and on the 6th he removed to Greenwich."
Canon Jackson found at Longleat many documents dated after the marriage, one a grant of the Manor of Hemsby, Norfolk, by John, then Duke of Northumberland, to his son Lord Robert Dudley, and the lady Amye his wife, 7th Edward VI., 1553; another 30th Jan., 3 & 4 Philip and Mary, 1557, dated Sydisterne, after Sir John Robsart's death; there is also a license of alienation to Sir Robert Dudley and Amye his wife, 24th March, 4 & 5 Philip and Mary, 1558. The marriage therefore was very generally known, and there was neither abduction nor secrecy. I will now show that Amye was never Countess of Leicester, nor was she ever at Kenilworth, and for this reason. Kenilworth was not granted to Sir Robert, otherwise called Lord Robert Dudley, until June 20th, 1563, and he was not created Earl of Leicester until the 29th September following, three years after Amy Dudley's death. Queen Elizabeth did not pay her celebrated visit to Kenilworth until 1575, or fifteen years after Amy's death. It is therefore an absolute impossibility for the latter to have ever known the title of Countess of Leicester, to have been present at Kenilworth during the Queen's visit, or to have had the interview with her described with so much pathos. Endeavours to correct these and similar historical errors have been frequently made, but the attempt appears hopeless. Not long ago, the most influential of our London newspapers reiterated the statement that Amy Dudley was "the wife of Lord Leicester;" but not content with this, the writer further blundered by describing Lucy Robsart, wife of Mr. Edward Walpole, of Houghton Hall, as her elder sister. It is almost needless to say Amy Robsart had no sister, and but one brother, Arthur, who was illegitimate. Lucy Robsart was her aunt, daughter of Sir Terry, or Theodoric Robsart.
Canon Jackson appears to have satisfactorily identified the villain Varney, and rescued him from the unmerited opprobrium cast upon him. Longleat documents point him out as Richard Verney, of Compton Verney, Warwickshire, ancestor of the Lords Willoughby de Broke. This Varney was a knight anterior to 1559, and then apparently a stranger to Lord Dudley; for in that year, Sir Ambrose Cave writes to Dudley, recommending Sir Richard Verney as a fitting person to hold certain office in Warwickshire. In 1561, a year after Amy Dudley's death, he was High-Sheriff of his county, and he did not die until seven years after, viz., 1567, and eight years before Elizabeth's visit to Kenilworth. An anonymous writer in Macmillan, some two years ago, brought forward another Verney. He said, the Willoughbys and Verneys of Compton Merdac, not Compton Verney, did not intermarry till the next century; and co-temporary with the Richard Verney above mentioned was another Richard, belonging to a Buckinghamshire family, connected with the Dudleys both by marriage and misfortunes. Sir Ralph Verney had three sons, Edmund, Francis, and Richard. Edmund and Richard were implicated in the Conspiracy of Lady Jane Grey. Francis had been Elizabeth's servant when in confinement at Woodstock, and had been charged with tampering with a letter, and, we are told, had about as bad a name as any young gentleman of his day. Of Richard nothing is known with certainty, but in 1572, that is five years after the death of Canon Jackson's Knight, a Richard Varney was appointed to the Marshalship of the Bench for life, dying three years after, and on Nov. 15th, the same year, Leicester wrote begging Lord Shrewsbury not to fill up the place vacant by the death of Mr. Varney.
We have remarked that Anthony Forster's epitaph was most eulogistic. This may perhaps be exaggerated, as is undoubtedly Scott's description of him. He makes him out to be the son of the Abbot of Abingdon's Reeve, a widower with one child, Janet; a miserly curmudgeon, bordering on deformity, with no redeeming point save affection for this child. Michael Lamborne speaks to him thus familiarly:—
"Here, you Tony Fire-the-Fagot, papist, puritan, hypocrite, miser, profligate, devil, compounded of all men's sins, bow down and reverence him who has brought into thy house the very mammon thou worshippest."
The Forster of fact, was a totally different person. He was of an ancient Shropshire family, and had married Ann, niece of Lord Williams of Thame, Lord Chamberlain under Philip and Mary. His three children, represented on his memorial brass, predeceased him. He was, towards the close of his life, Member of Parliament for the borough of Abingdon, and chosen, upon at least one occasion, by the University of Oxford to settle a noisy controversy. He was a personal friend of Lord Dudley, and controller of his enormous expenditure. All Dudley's accounts passed through Forster's hands. All payments had to be sanctioned by him. Bundles of such accounts showing careful examination are now at Longleat, filed, says Canon Jackson, as left by Anthony Forster. They all bear his signature or initials, and the date 1566, six years after Tony Foster had been starved to death in his secret chamber.
I would now mention some of the minor circumstances and persons mentioned in the novel, respecting whom chronological errors are noticeable.
We have seen that Varney, to whatever family he belonged, died before the great Kenilworth festivities in honour of the Royal Visit, and that Amy had died fifteen years before that event. Sir W. Raleigh, who in the novel is introduced strewing his cloak before the Queen and subsequently knighted by her with Varney at Kenilworth, was not knighted until 1584, nine years after her visit, twenty-four years after Amy's death; and as he was born in 1552, was actually eight years old when that occurred.
On her journey from Cumnor Place to Kenilworth, accompanied by Wayland Smith, Amy passes through Donnington. They overtake the Hock Tide revellers from this village, also upon the road to Kenilworth. Donnington Castle is also mentioned earlier in the story. To pass through this hamlet, en route for Kenilworth, would be equivalent to travelling from say Reading to Birmingham in order to reach London. It is probable Sir Walter intended to write Deddington, which is in Oxfordshire, and on the direct road Amy would have had to travel, but it is strange the error has never been corrected. The revellers really came from Coventry, an entirely opposite route to that Lady Dudley would have had to pursue.
I have only given a few of the most evident anachronisms which permeate the novel, and many others might be mentioned. Many extracts from the story might be quoted, which show the carelessness of the great novelist as regards chronology; yet dates ought to have met with every consideration from him: he was professedly, at any rate, an antiquary, professionally a writer to the Signet or lawyer, where accuracy is all in all.
I have little reason to believe that an inn existed at Cumnor, in Elizabeth's time, and although it is curious Scott should have selected as the name of its landlord, Giles Gosling, it should be remembered he had access assuredly to Ashmole, wherein are many Berkshire names, both of persons and places, and Gosling is certainly a Berkshire name. We have also in Berkshire places named Lamborne and Thatcham, both characters in the novel; the former, indeed, was represented at Cumnor a few years ago, and may be now, and there is in the parish register in 1562, record of the burial of one Gosling. But I am of opinion the selection of these names is purely accidental. As regards the alehouse, Inns as a rule increase in number, and but rarely, if ever, disappear, and the sole inn at Cumnor would be likely to thrive. It so happened that in 1636, John Taylor, the water poet, travelled through England, and made a list of inns for the use of his customers, for he was a tavern keeper also, and he gave the names of all the inns in Berkshire to the number of forty. At Abingdon, he says, was one kept by John Prince, who at his pleasure might keep three, but there is no mention whatever of the Jolly Black Bear or other inns at Cumnor. Bearing this in mind, and taking into consideration the total ignorance of Scott as to the site of Cumnor, its situation in the county, and even of the plan of the Hall itself, I think it most improbable that the Wizard of the North ever visited the village he has made for ever famous, despite his many anachronisms.
It is not for me to defend Dudley against the suggestions of being privy to the assassination of his wife, any more than to defend him from the accusation of having been the cause of the deaths of many others as charged against him in "Leicester's Commonwealth." Here, among others, Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, Lord Sheffield, and Walter Devereux, Earl of Essex, are said to have been poisoned by him; but rumours of poisoning were at that time prevalent, and it was suggested he had endeavoured to make away by poison with his wife Amy, in order to be free to marry Queen Elizabeth; one writer has within the last few years gone so far as to charge Elizabeth with complicity. She was certainly of a jealous disposition, for when Leicester eventually married the widow of the Earl of Essex, he narrowly escaped imprisonment in the tower, and was actually banished from the court; similarly when Raleigh dared to marry, he being forty and Elizabeth fifty-nine, he was sent to the tower to cool his ardour. Mr. Rye, who is confident Amy Robsart was murdered, and Elizabeth privy to the fact, says, "By some, Anne Boleyn is made out to be an innocent woman, who, with her brother, was judicially murdered by her husband, to make room for Jane Seymour, whom he married the day after her execution. If this view is right, Elizabeth was daughter of an atrocious murderer. But if as Mr. Froude believes, Anne Boleyn was guilty of the crimes attributed to her, then Elizabeth was the daughter of the vilest and most abandoned woman of her age. There is no third course. Elizabeth must have been, on one side or the other, the daughter of an abominable parent, male or female as you please, and the inheritor of as bad blood as might be. But I contend it is impossible to avoid the conclusion that Elizabeth knew that her rival's murder was being contemplated, and did not desire to prevent it, in which case she was an accessary before the fact, or that she must after the event have guessed, for she was no fool, that murder had been done to facilitate Leicester's plans, in which case she was in effect, an accessary after the fact."
One reason assigned for Dudley's desire to be free, is said to have been ambition, and again that his married life was by no means a happy one, and that he was practically divorced, living apart from Amy; she in the country, he at Court. Where they lived when first married is not known, but in 1553, Dudley was imprisoned in the tower for six months on suspicion of complicity in the attempt of his father to place Lady Jane Grey on the throne. The name of Amye, Lady Dudley, is mentioned as visiting him there, so in the fourth year of their marriage she was in London, and there was no estrangement. Being released, his wife's and his own estates were restored him, and out of gratitude to Queen Mary's Consort, Philip, he offered his services to the King, who sent him to fight the French. Here the separation was compulsory, for Amy could scarcely follow her husband serving in a foreign army upon the continent. We hear nothing of either for the space of three years, and an extant letter proves that Amye and Sir Robert were still upon a familiar and friendly, if not affectionate footing. She is found to be entrusted with full power and authority to sell and dispose of profits of the lands so that creditors need no longer wait for their money. The terms of the letter evidently prove she had sanction for her actions, and that there was no estrangement, and this letter, referring as it does to Sydistene, must have been written in 1557 at the earliest, as the property did not come to their hands before that year. It is dated from Mr. Hydes, a connection of Dudleys, who lived at Denchworth, a few miles from Cumnor; and while Amy was visiting here she was at perfect freedom to go where she would, and had full control of money which she seemingly availed herself of, as the Longleat papers fully prove. She was certainly under no restraint, having no less than twelve horses at her service. She amused herself journeying in Suffolk, Hampshire, and Lincolnshire; she also went to London and Dudley being at Windsor, she also visited Camberwell, and her charges for Mr. Hydes to that place is entered at £10.
Many of her accounts are at Longleat, and inside one bill was found a letter written at Cumnor, but undated; it is probably one of the last she ever wrote, being written 24th August. This bill was not paid for some years after her death, for which reason "nothing was abated." Among the items charged were:—
"For making a Spanish gowne of Russet Damask, 16s. For 6 ounces of Lace at 4s 8d. an ounce, 28s. 8s. for making a loose gown of Rosse Taffata (alluded to in the letter),"
and many other items which show that this freedom of expenditure must have existed to the very last. There is charged in the same bill an article supplied after her death, viz., a mantle of cloth for the chief mourner.
In such manner then was Amy occupied at Cumnor, where not improbably the gossip about Dudley's intimacy with the queen was repeated to her. Whether she believed it or not it is impossible to say, but we may be sure that if all the rumours then floating about did reach her, the effect must have been terrible, especially if the suggestion that she was suffering from cancer, and that Dudley anxiously awaited her death to marry the queen became known to her. But these rumours would have been far more likely to act as a preventative to actual crime than as an incentive. A sudden, and in especial a violent death, would have been the last thing that Dudley would have wished to happen to her, and when it did happen, as most inopportunely it did for him, he appears to have used every endeavour to ascertain the actual truth, and if a crime had been committed to bring the guilty to justice. Documents in the Pepsyan Library at Cambridge tell us that on Monday, 9th September, Lord Robert Dudley was at Windsor, and hearing that something was amiss at Cumnor, sent thither on horseback Sir Thomas Blount, a confidential friend and retainer. On his road Blount meets a messenger named Bowes, riding post haste to Windsor with the intelligence that the previous evening Lady Dudley had been found lying in the hall at Cumnor Place at the foot of the stairs, dead, but without outward marks of violence. He further relates that the Sunday being Abingdon fair, Lady Dudley, contrary to the remembrance of Mrs. Hyde and Mrs. Odingsell, Mr. Hyde's sister, had insisted upon all her servants going to the fair. They went accordingly, leaving apparently no one excepting the three females in the house, for no account makes mention of any man in or about the home. Each rider now pursues his journey, and Blount arrives at Abingdon and proceeds to question the landlord as to local events, and hears the death of Lady Dudley confirmed. After a little pressure the landlord expresses his opinion, that it must be a "misfortune" i.e. accident, because it happened in that honest gentleman's home, Master Forster. "His honesty doth much curb the evil thoughts of the people." The following day he interviews the lady's maid, who admits she had heard Lady Dudley frequently pray for delivery from desparation, but when Blount seems willing to take this as indicating suicide, she says, "No good, Mr. Blount, do not so judge of my words. If you should so gather I should be sorry I said so much."
Blount writes all these particulars to Dudley, and suggests that from what he has heard Lady Dudley's mind might have been disordered, and that a Coroner's inquest was sitting. Dudley sent for Appleyard and Arthur Robsart to this inquest, and eventually the jury say, "After the most searching enquiry they could make, they could find no presumption of evil dealing." Lord Robsart then devises a second jury, to whom he sends a message "to deal earnestly, carefully, and truly, and to find as they see it fall out," and to finish the question to the fullest. Unfortunately the records of the Coroner's enquiry have not survived. The late A.D. Bartlett, Coroner for Abingdon, endeavoured to find them, but abandoned his search in despair.
In 1566, seven years after Amy's death, Dudley's marriage with the queen was debated by the Privy Council, when it was reported to them that Appleyard, had in a moment of irritation against Leicester, said he had not been satisfied with the verdict, but for the sake of Dudley had covered the murder of his sister. Appleyard was cited to appear and explain his words to the Privy Council, which he did by saying that he did not hold Dudley guilty, but thought it would not be difficult to find out the guilty parties. Here says Mr. Froude, if Appleyard spoke the truth, there is no more to be said: the conclusion seems inevitable, that though Dudley was innocent of direct influence, the unhappy lady was sacrificed to his ambition and made away with by persons who hoped to profit by Dudley's elevation to the throne. "If Appleyard spoke the truth," says Mr. Froude—I will however quote from a letter found by Canon Jackson at Longleat. It is from a Berkshire gentleman to Mr. John Thynne of Longleat, dated June 9th, 1567. After mentioning other matters, he continues, "On Friday in the Star-Chamber, was Appleyard brought forth, who shewed himself a malytyous beast, for he dyd confesse the accused my Lord of Leicester only of malyes, and he hath byn about it these three years, and now, because he could not go through with his business to promote, he fell into this rage against my lord and would have accused him of three things. 1st, of kyllyng his wyf. 2nd, of sending the Lord Derby to Scotland. 3rd, for letting the queen of marriage. He craved pardon for all these things. My Lord Keeper answered in King Henry VII. days there was one lost his ears for slandering the Chief Justice; so as I think his ende will be the pillory."
Mr. Froude therefore is answered by this letter. Appleyard did not speak truth, but as early as 1567, and even three years earlier, the libel is traced to have originated with him from personal motives of disappointment and revenge. He acknowledged himself a liar, but whether this retraction was from fear of the Star Chamber cannot be ascertained; at any rate the private opinion of Sir Henry Neville was that he merited the pillory. He must have been a contemptible rascal in any case, for even if the libel was true and fear caused him to retract, this was no excuse for his conduct on the occasion of his sister's funeral. This he attended, and in the procession bore a banner of arms. Sir Henry Neville must have judged and described him correctly. Taking the evidence into consideration, I must certainly express my own impression is that whatever may have been Leicester's faults, and they were many, or whatever crimes may be charged against him, he was at any rate guiltless of any intent to make away with his wife Amy. Even if Dudley were shielded in his evil doings by his court influence, would this have also affected public opinion in the country? I am of opinion that at that time his court popularity would have militated rather unfavourably than otherwise for him. Yet what do we find is the case? Within four years of his wife's death, he is elected Chancellor of the University of Oxford, and Steward of the Boroughs of Abingdon, Wallingford, and Reading, all within easy distance of Cumnor Place, where his wife Amye was found dead at the foot of the stair, as some said foully murdered. Had he a hand, direct or indirect, in such a crime, or had suspicion then attached to him, I venture to affirm neither Oxford University nor the electors of these Boroughs would have so honoured him. The nominations must have been practically a declaration of confidence in his innocence. Poor Amy Robsart's death was indeed a sad one, but at least we may conclude that it was not hastened by neglect nor accomplished by violence on the part of her husband. In spite of all attempts to assert this truth, the story of her romance will live, and continue to add a pathetic interest to the quiet Berkshire village which preserves her memory.