John Paston’s enemies, acting in several ways, had now done their worst. While the news of his dispute with Howard was reported to the king in the most unfavourable terms, Judge Yelverton (he had been made Sir William Yelverton at the coronation)[209.5] and William Jenney entered Sir John Fastolf’s manor of Cotton in Suffolk, Manor of Cotton. and distrained upon the tenants for rent. John Paston’s faithful servant, Richard Calle, at first interrupted their proceedings, and when Jenney went to hold a court at Cotton, entered the place before he came, along with Paston’s eldest son. By Calle’s activity and watchfulness the court was holden in Paston’s name, although it had been summoned in Jenney’s; and [210] young John Paston next day, to requite the enemy for the trouble they had occasioned, took with him thirty men, and rode to Jenney’s place, where he carried off thirty-six head of neat, and brought them into Norfolk. This was a bold exploit, for the enemy had threatened to drag him and Calle out of the place by violence; but Calle still remained, and twelve men with him, and kept possession for five whole days, during which time he visited the farmers and tenants of the manor, and ascertained that they were all well disposed towards Paston, and would pay no money to any one else. But, unfortunately, just at this point came the summons to Paston which he did not dare to disobey; and his opponents knew how to profit by his absence and imprisonment in London. Yelverton and Jenney did not re-enter the manor themselves; but Jenney sold his interest in it to one Gilbert Debenham, who intended to give it to his son, Sir Gilbert, for a dwelling-house. Accordingly, by the encouragement of Jenney and Debenham, a body of unknown men took possession of the place, and garrisoned it against all comers as strongly as they could. They broke down the drawbridge over the moat, so that no one could enter the place except by means of a ladder. They melted lead, and damaged the property in various ways, while John Paston was a prisoner in the Fleet. At the same time Yelverton and Jenney took proceedings against Richard Calle. They succeeded in getting him imprisoned upon an indictment for felony in Norfolk; and, fearing lest he should be acquitted upon that charge, they ‘certified insurrections’ against him in the King’s Bench, and sent the sheriff a writ to bring him up to London in the beginning of November.[210.1]

John Paston released from prison.

But before the day that Richard Calle was to appear in the King’s Bench John Paston was delivered from the Fleet, and his adversary Howard was sent to prison in his place. The whole circumstances of the controversy had been laid before the king, and Paston was released after about a fortnight’s imprisonment. The news that he had got into trouble had excited much sympathy in Norwich, for he was highly popular, and Howard’s attempt to set aside his election met with very [211] little approbation. Margaret Paston, especially, was sad and downcast at home, and though her husband had sent her comfortable messages and letters showing that his case was not so bad as it appeared to be, ‘yet I could not be merry,’ she wrote to him, ‘till this day that the Mayor sent to me, and sent me word that he had knowledge for very truth that ye were delivered out of the Fleet.’[211.1]

The king was much interested in the dispute, and was laudably determined to insist upon justice and fair dealing. He appointed Sir Thomas Montgomery, one of the knights of his own household, in whom he had special confidence, sheriff of Norfolk for the ensuing year. And when Sir Thomas went down into Norfolk, he sent Sir William Yelverton along with him, who, though not very favourably disposed towards Paston, was still one of the justices, and bound to be impartial. Edward gave them both a very explicit message from his own mouth to declare to the people in the shire house, and Yelverton was made the spokesman. Message from the king to the people of Norfolk. He said the king had been greatly displeased to hear that there had been ‘a riotous fellowship’ in the county, but that he understood it was not owing to disaffection on the part of the people generally—that it had been stirred up only by two or three evil-disposed persons—that he and the sheriff were there by the king’s command, ready to receive complaints from any man against any one whomsoever—and that if they could not prevail upon the wrongdoer to make restitution, the bills should be sent to the king; moreover, that if any man was afraid to set forth his grievances, he should have full protection. At this point Yelverton asked the sheriff if he remembered anything more in the king’s message, and requested him in that case to declare it himself. The sheriff said Sir William had set forth everything, except that the king had made special reference to two persons, Sir Thomas Tuddenham and Heydon. ‘Ah, that is truth,’ said Yelverton; and he explained that any one who wished to complain of them should be protected also. The sheriff then added a few words for his part, in which he promised faithfully before all the people, ‘and swore by great [212] oaths,’ that neither by fear nor by favour would he be restrained from communicating to the king the truth as he found it to be.[212.1]

A.D. 1462.

All this was reassuring; but yet it was remarked that John Paston did not come home again into Norfolk, and neither did his colleague in the representation of the county, John Berney of Witchingham. This alone caused Margaret Paston still to entertain apprehensions for her husband’s safety, and her suspicions were shared by many, who feared that they and Paston alike were involved in some new charges of sedition. Busybodies, it was thought, had been insinuating to the king that a very rebellious spirit prevailed in Norfolk, and report said that the Dukes of Clarence and Suffolk would come down with certain judges commissioned to try such persons as were ‘noised riotous.’ The rumour scarcely tended to pacify discontent. If it were true, people said they might as well go up to the king in a body to complain of those who had done them wrong, and not wait quietly to be hanged at their own doors. The Duke of Suffolk and his mother were the maintainers of those who oppressed the country most, and nothing but severity could be expected from a commission of which the duke was a member, unless his influence were counteracted by that of more popular persons.[212.2] These misgivings, however, were happily soon after set at rest. The election of John Paston was confirmed, and no such dreaded commission appears to have been sent into Norfolk. ‘The people of that country,’ wrote Margaret Paston to her husband, ‘be right glad that the day went with you on Monday as it did. You were never so welcome into Norfolk as ye shall be when ye come home, I trow.’[212.3] Paston, in fact, appears to have gained a complete triumph over his adversaries, and it was said that Howard was likely to lose his head.[212.4]

But the dispute with Yelverton and Jenney was still unsettled. Writs were sent down into Norfolk to attach John Paston’s eldest son and Richard Calle upon indictments of trespass, and Debenham threatened to hold a court at Calcot in defiance of Paston’s agents.[212.5] It is evident, too, that [213] he made good his word, and John Paston in consequence got his tenants to bring actions against him.[213.1] Cross pleas between the parties occupied the courts at Westminster for a year or more, during which time we find it suggested to John Paston that he would never get leave to live in peace, unless he could by some means obtain ‘the good lordship’ of the Duke of Suffolk.[213.2] Appeals to law and justice were all very well, and no one fought his battle in the courts with more unflinching energy than Paston; but unless he wished to be always fighting, the best way for him was to obtain the favour of the great.

It is a question, indeed, whether in this eternal turmoil of litigation at Westminster, and watch to keep out intruders in his Suffolk manors, John Paston had not to some extent neglected his duty to his children at home. Such, at least, was the world’s opinion, and there were candid friends who did not hesitate to tell him so. Sir John Paston. His eldest son now attained the age of twenty-one, and received the dignity of knighthood—probably, as we have before suggested, as a substitute for himself. A.D. 1463. The young man had been summoned four years before to attend and do military service to King Henry VI.[213.3] He had since been for some little time a member of King Edward’s household, travelling about with the court from place to place.[213.4] But he had scarcely seen the usual amount of service, and though now of full age, and known as Sir John Paston, knight, he was living again under his father’s roof, wasting his time, as it was considered, in inglorious ease. ‘At reverence of God, take heed,’ wrote some one to his father, ‘for I hear much talking thereof. . . . Some say that he and ye stand both out of the king’s good grace, and some say that ye keep him at home for niggardship, and will nothing spend upon him; and so each man says his advice as it pleases him to talk. And I have inquired and said the most cause is in party for cause ye are so much out, that he is rather at home for the safeguard of the coasts.’[213.5]

The protection of the coast, especially about Yarmouth, [214] might well be an object in which John Paston was specially concerned, for close to Yarmouth lay Caister Castle. And he had actually procured a commission for his son to be captain of a ship in the king’s service, called the Barge of Yarmouth. But here again he was brought into collision with Gilbert Debenham, who had already procured a commission to the same effect for himself, and this field of usefulness seems to have been cut off.[214.1] Confinement at home, to superintend his father’s servants, did not suit the young man’s tastes. Once before he had displeased his father, probably by seeking too much liberty.[214.2] He now not only sought it, but took it without leave. He leaves home. Without signifying his intention to any one, he stole away from Caister, apparently with the view of joining himself again to the king’s household. In passing by Lynn, he wrote a penitent letter to his mother, expressing his fear that he had done wrong, and given her uneasiness. And, in truth, she was by no means pleased; for hitherto in their little disagreements she had stood between him and his father, and now her own past efforts at conciliation caused his father to suspect that she had been privy to his escape. If on any occasion Margaret Paston ever deceived her husband, it must have been for the sake of shielding one of her sons; but we are not warranted in believing even this. The imputation in this instance was certainly untrue; but so great was the offence taken by the father, that she durst not even let him know that she had received a letter from her son since his departure. She, however, wrote to the runaway, and charged him, as he valued her blessing, to do all in his power to recover his father’s goodwill. He must write to his offended parent again and again in the most humble terms he could think of, giving him all the news from court, and taking far more pains than he had done at home to avoid incurring expenses.[214.3]

John Paston the youngest.