The rise of Weymouth to a place of importance would seem to have been somewhat rapid, for in Edward I’s reign it appears to have been esteemed of too considerable a size and wealth to remain in the possession of the monks of Milton Abbey, to whom it had been granted by Athelstan, the founder. It was then taken by the Crown, and formed a portion of the dowry given by Edward I to his Spanish wife, Eleanor of Castile.
Over and over again in history during succeeding centuries, the town appears, dimly sometimes, forming as it were a background of some historical event, and at others playing a more active part in the stirring doings of troublous times. By the middle of the fourteenth century Weymouth had risen to a condition of considerable maritime importance, and at this time it supplied no less than twenty ships for the siege of Calais. The position of Weymouth will be more easily understood when it is remembered that the port of Bristol supplied only two ships more, and the port of London five; although in both cases the vessels sent were probably of considerably greater tonnage.
THE NOTHE, WEYMOUTH
In 1377 the French, who had by no means forgotten the part that Weymouth had played in former years in supplying men and ships for the attacks upon them, during one of their periodic descents upon the south coast, visited Weymouth, and burnt the ships in the harbour, and also a very considerable portion of the town itself. Indeed, so greatly did the place then and subsequently suffer from the depredations of the French, that in the reign of Henry IV the inhabitants petitioned to be relieved of their Customs dues on account of their poverty, and this exemption was granted for a period of twelve years.
Referring to Weymouth, Leland the historian, writing about this time, says: “This towne, as is evidently seene, hathe beene far bigger than is now. The cause of this is layid unto the Frenchmen that yn times of warre rasid this towne for lack of defence.”
During his reign Henry VI, owing very likely to the continued attacks of the French, and with the object of rendering the place less worthy of their attentions, transferred its privileges as a port, and its wool-staple to Poole, and thus it was deprived of much of its commercial standing and trade. Nevertheless Weymouth throughout medieval times, and in stirring periods of national history, has been the port of embarkation or entry for many royal personages. Probably no more pathetic figure ever landed on the sands of Weymouth Bay than Queen Margaret of Anjou, who arrived off the town in company with her young son on April 14, 1471, in the hope of aiding her husband, King Henry VI, to regain his throne, almost at the very hour when the cause in which she had so great a stake was being lost on the fatal field of Barnet. Only a few weeks later the Queen, dethroned, and deprived of her husband, suffered disastrous defeat at Tewkesbury, where her son was assassinated after the battle.
The next royal visitors who landed at Weymouth were Philip, King of Castile, and his Queen, Joanna, who with a large fleet, numbering eighty sail, were driven on to the English coast by a violent storm, and obliged to take refuge in Weymouth Bay. The landing of the King and Queen, both of whom had been very ill, with their retinue of knights and servants, was effected with some secrecy, with the result that the alarmed country folk, when the fact leaked out, saw in this royal disembarkation not a landing brought about by force of circumstances, but an invasion, and one, Sir Thomas Trenchard, of Wolveton House, hastened to the spot with a force composed of all the available militia and his own retainers, where he was speedily followed by Sir John Carew with a like force. On discovering who the supposed invaders were, Sir Thomas Trenchard gave them a welcome, but told King Philip bluntly that he would not be allowed to return on board his ship with his followers until King Henry VII had seen him. It may be imagined that the King of Castile spent some uncomfortable moments until the Earl of Arundel arrived from London to escort him and his Queen to the capital. At that time Spain and England were by no means on friendly terms, and the sea-sick King and Queen had landed much against the advice of their captains and generals, who feared lest capture might be their fate, and the hospitality offered prove of an embarrassing kind.
During the reign of Henry VIII, on several occasions there were fears of a French invasion, and about this time the King built Sandsfoot Castle on the southern shore of the spit of land forming the Nothe, which until the building of Portland breakwater was an important landmark. Leland mentions this as being, “A right goodlie Castel havyng one open barbicane.” The shell of this still remains, and is a witness that the place was of very considerable strength, if not of great size.
For many centuries before the reign of Elizabeth, what is now usually known as Weymouth comprised two distinct towns, one bearing the name of Melcombe Regis, and the other that by which the town is now known. Both these places possess their own charters of incorporation, and, owing to the fact that there was only one harbour for both of them in medieval and even later times, long continued and violent disputes frequently arose between the respective inhabitants; and not infrequently blood was shed in the encounters which took place concerning such matters as the imposition and apportionment of Customs dues, and the common use of the harbour. By the merging of the two towns into one in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the causes of friction were happily removed.