Sandal Castle, near Wakefield, figures in the third part of “Henry VI.,” and is now in ruins, and the Duke of York wished to remain here on the defensive against the army of 20,000 that Queen
Margaret had mustered under promise of plunder if her cause should be successful. The Duke’s forces mustered not more than a quarter of the number, but the Earl of Salisbury prevailed on him to advance to meet the Queen’s army. When the Yorkists advanced in good order they probably did not even guess at the superior forces they were pitted against, and as their leader was allowed to advance towards Wakefield he was cut off from Sandal, and was nearly the first to fall. His head, as we have seen, was put on York gates, and scenes of exceptional barbarity, even for the Wars of the Roses, followed Margaret’s victory. The Duke of York’s son, Edmund, Earl of Rutland, was murdered with great cruelty after the battle, by Lord Clifford, at Wakefield bridge. He is made to say in “Henry VI.”
“No, if I digg’d up thy forefathers’ graves,
And hung their rotten coffins up in chains,
It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart.
The sight of any of the house of York
Is as a fury to torment my soul;
And till I root out their accursed line,
And leave not one alive, I live in hell.”
The chapel on Wakefield bridge, which was in a ruinous condition till the late Vicar of Wakefield restored it, was built by Edward IV., the brother of the young Rutland who was murdered by Clifford. He erected it on the spot where his brother was slain. The intercession of the young Rutland for his life is powerfully told in Shakespeare, and the gibes and jeers that Clifford gave way to when he stabbed him. Even Clifford’s own party could not excuse this act, for Rutland is always described as an extremely amiable gentle youth. Hall says that not a few of his party after the murder stigmatised Clifford as “no gentleman,” a censure that we cannot say errs on the side of severity when judged by our modern ideas. These wayside chapels, we are told,
were the only places of public worship to which no burial-ground was attached. “They had no walled enclosure, and could never have been more alone than many are now on the highways to Walsingham. Those near Hillborough have been planted on the bleak brows of elevated ground near the roadside, and are without particular architectural distinction, etc. The interior, which could once afford rest to the weary and a pittance to the distressed, is now too desolate to be sought as a refuge by cattle.” This chapel at Wakefield was at one time such a place, for it is supposed to have been originally built in the time of Edward II., and no doubt correctly so supposed, but it was transformed or almost rebuilt in the superb form we see it now, in the reign of Edward IV. In case this wonderful chapel may not be understood with sufficient clearness, it may be well to remark that it occupies a sort of large pier, an exaggerated kind of buttress to the bridge. The windows are certainly curious and beautiful: the singular part of them is that they contain a two-centred head in a square, the spandrels being pierced.
Pontefract is rather a disappointment to those who visit it for the first time, and who are expecting to see much of its ancient glories left. The house here shown is rather curious, and evidently of considerable antiquity. The outside stair and the slits in the wall are defensive, but sash windows have replaced mullions, and now it is a good substantial farm-house. The population of the town is said to be nearly 12,000, but they are nearly all cottagers, and apparently in rather humble circumstances. The rocky foundation on which the castle was built is now a valuable quarry of filtering stones, that are sent to all parts of the kingdom. The liquorice-grounds
become a distinctive feature here, and the making of pomfret cakes forms quite an industry among the natives. Few if any castles in England have played so conspicuous a part in the history of the country. It was built by Ilbert de Lacy, a follower of the Conqueror. He received as his share of the plunder 150 manors in Yorkshire, ten in Nottingham, and four in Lincolnshire. The gentle baron took a fancy to Pontefract because he considered that it bore a resemblance to his old home in Normandy, and readily had it transferred from its original possessor to himself. The area enclosed by the castle walls is said to have been about seven acres, and it was of course fortified with all engineering expedients then known. The dungeons are a remarkable feature here, not only on account of their stern forbidding appearance, but from the number and importance of the prisoners who have been confined in them. Pontefract Castle was the seat of the Earl of Lancaster in the reign of Edward II., when the country was torn to pieces by factions, and the Royalists and the house of Lancaster fought for predominance. In one of the battles the Earl of Lancaster was defeated and taken to his own castle, and there, without a hearing, and under circumstances of great barbarity, he was put to death. In the short reign also of Richard III. many great men were confined in these dungeons, and afterwards executed; Woodville, Gray, and Rivers among the rest. This castle held out longer than any other against the army of Cromwell; indeed was not taken till after Charles was executed. A singular tale is told of its final surrender and demolition. It would seem that when the Royalists were reduced to straits, General Lambert, who commanded the Parliamentarians, summoned them to surrender, and offered them honourable terms. The only ones he excepted from these terms were six gentlemen who were obnoxious to Cromwell, and these he said it was desirable to have executed. The garrison, who were composed principally of Nottingham men, objected to this, and asked Lambert to agree to the following singular condition:—the castle was to be held for a week longer, and then surrendered; but if, in the interim, these six gentlemen could escape by fair means, they were to be permitted. Lambert said if he only had his own way he would let them all off free, and rejoice at it, but he was completely tied down by his instructions; however, he would take upon himself to agree to the week. Several skirmishes took place during this week, and four of the six besieged gentlemen effected their escape. It is not improbable that no very great diligence was employed in their capture. Still, however, two remained, Sir Hugh Cartwright and another, and they would not let any further trouble or loss be incurred on their behalf, so they found a chamber in the walls, and caused themselves to be loosely walled in with a month’s provisions in the room. They calculated that the castle would be retaken by the Royalists within the month. The garrison then surrendered, and Lambert reduced the castle to the ruinous condition in which it now is; and the tale that passed current was that he just happened to pass the part where they were concealed, and they escaped and went abroad; at any rate one of them died at Antwerp some time after.