"Trustinge in noblemen, that wer wyth hym there;Bot all they fled from hym from falshode or fere,He was envyronde aboute on every syde,Withe his enemys that were stark mad and wode;Yet whils he stode he gave them woundes wyde,Alas! for southe! what thoughe his mynde were goode,His courage manly; yet there he shed his bloode.All left alone, alas! he fowt in vayne,For cruelly among them ther he was slayne."
"Trustinge in noblemen, that wer wyth hym there;Bot all they fled from hym from falshode or fere,He was envyronde aboute on every syde,Withe his enemys that were stark mad and wode;Yet whils he stode he gave them woundes wyde,Alas! for southe! what thoughe his mynde were goode,His courage manly; yet there he shed his bloode.All left alone, alas! he fowt in vayne,For cruelly among them ther he was slayne."
Hence the insurgents went triumphantly, calling upon the people to unite with them in putting down kingly tyranny and financial oppression, but eventually they were met by the Earl of Surrey, who was sent against them, at Ackworth, near Pontefract, and dispersed. Chambre and others of the leaders were captured and hangedat York; but Egremont, thanks to the fleetness of his horse, escaped to Flanders, and was protected by the Yorkist Margaret, Duchess of Burgundy. What was his ultimate fate is not known.
The Earl was honoured with a most magnificent funeral in the Minster or Collegiate Church of St. John, Beverley, in a chapel built expressly for the reception of his remains, and beneath a tomb with rich Gothic canopy, adorned with sculptured figures, and emblazoned with the multitude of quarterings of the family. The body, after having been embalmed, was conveyed to his Castle of Wressil, and hence to Leckonfield, whence it was taken to Beverley, accompanied by a long and splendid procession, all robed and accoutred at the expense of the family. There were twelve lords with "gownes at 10s. the yerd;" twenty-four lords and knights "with gownes and hods;" sixty squires and gentlemen "with gownes and typets;" two hundred yeomen "in gownes;" "one hundred gromes and gentlemen's servants in gownes." There were also the bearers of the great standard, twelve bearers of sarcenet banners "betyn with my Lord's armys," sixty bearers of "Scutchions of Buckrambetyn with my Lord's armys," and two officers of arms from the Herald's Office, London, to superintend the armorial arrangements, who were paid £20 for "their helpe and payne." Besides these there were five hundred priests, one thousand clerks, and representatives from the neighbouring monasteries, all habited in mourning, and bearing crucifixes, other church ornaments, and vessels and emblems of mortality. Mingling with these were four hundred torch-bearers, and bringing up the rear, 13,340 poor persons, who received, according to the will, a funeral dole of twopence each. Altogether the cost amounted to £1,037 6s. 8d., equal to, at least, £10,000 of the present value of money.
The body was met at the great west door of the Minster by the Provost, Vicars, Canons, choristers, and other officials of the Minster, who conducted the procession. A mournful anthem was chanted up the nave into the chancel, where a long and splendid service of masses and choral singing was performed, and the body lowered into its resting-place, amid the sobs and lamentations of those who had known and loved the Earl for his virtues. Of his tomb, with its "multiplicity of noble carved work and canopied arches,"as described by Leland, there remain only the altar table, with its sides covered with armorial bearings, but without the figures which ranged round it in niches, and on the wall above the word "Esperance," the motto of the family, and "1494," the date of the funeral.
COTTINGHAMis a well-built, picturesque village, midway between Hull and Beverley, on the ancient road, but a quarter of a mile distant from the modern highway. It is a place of great antiquity, dating from the ancient British period, and deriving its name from Ket, a Celtic female deity, with the Saxon suffixes of ing and ham. In the days of Edward the Confessor, it belonged to one Gamel, who is supposed to have held a Thursday market there; and at the time of the Domesday Book, the manor, four miles in length, with five fisheries of 8,000 eels, was held by Hugh, son of Baldrick.
It was granted by William the Conqueror to Robert de Stuteville, surnamed Front de Bœuf, from whom it descended to Robert de Stuteville, or d'Estoteville, who was Sheriff of Yorkshire, twenty-first Henry II., and from him to William de Stuteville,temp.John, who, for some offence,was excommunicated by the Archbishop of York. He appealed to the King, who came to Cottingham to investigate the matter, and in the sequel compelled the prelate to give him absolution. Moreover, he granted to de Stuteville a charter empowering him to castellate his manor-house, and hold a weekly market and annual fair.
Nicholas de Stuteville died seventeenth Henry III., leaving two daughters, Joan and Margaret, as his co-heiresses, the former of whom married Hugh de Wake, descended from Leofric, viceroy Earl of Mercia, and his wife the famous Godiva, and from Hereward le Wac (the Wake), Lord of Brunne, the last, and one of the most formidable, opponents of the Norman Duke William, in his conquest of England. John, his grandson, was summoned as a baron twenty-third Edward I., whose daughter, Margaret, married Edmund of Woodstock, Earl of Kent, third son of King Edward I., and had issue, Joan, "the fair maid of Kent," who inherited the Barony of Wake, which she transmitted to her issue by her first husband, Thomas de Holand, and which fell in abeyance in 1497, as it still continues. She married, secondly, Edward, theBlack Prince, and by him was mother of King Richard II.
King Edward I. was celebrating Christmas with the Wakes at Cottingham, when, being out hunting, he came to Wyke-super-Hull, and, struck with its capabilities as a port, granted the charter which laid the foundation of its future greatness, and changed its name to Kingstown-upon-Hull; and at the same time gave his host a charter of free warren over his manor, and authority to erect a gallows for the execution of criminals. Thomas, his son, in the following reign, obtained a charter of confirmation, with the privilege of holding a weekly market and two annual fairs, and authority to convert his residence into a castle of defence, and to garrison it with armed men. This Thomas founded, adjacent to the castle, a monastery of Austin Friars, on a site with a defective title, in consequence of which it was removed to Haltemprice, on another part of the estate.
The feudal barony was heldin capiteby the service of one barony, and consisted of 4,000 acres, with £200 yearly rental from free tenants.
It was a beautiful August day in the year 1540. The reapers were in the fields aboutCottingham, sickle in hand, cutting down the golden corn, and lumbering wains with solid wooden wheels, and drawn by oxen, were carrying away the sheaves to garner in the homesteads; the fruit of a thousand trees in the orchards surrounding the village hung, rich and luscious, pendant from the boughs, and ripening to perfection under the bright sunshine. The village consisted of a scattering of cross-timbered houses with wattled and mud-walled frames, latticed windows, and thatched roofs. From the midst thereof rose in proud and lofty dignity the majestic walls, turrets, and bastions of the Stutevilles, the Wakes, and now of the Holands, surrounded by a moat, which was crossed by a drawbridge, and the entrance defended by a barbican and a portcullis. Upon its battlements might be seen three or four men-at-arms, lounging lazily about, and amusing themselves by watching the passage of vessels and boats up and down the Humber. The pleasant clack of the baronial mill, and the occasional uplifted voices of the denizens of the farm-yards and pastures, alone broke the silence of the slumberous summer afternoon. In a hamlet within ken of the out-lookers on the parapets of the castle might beseen the now deserted house of the Augustinian Friars, at Haltemprice; for here no longer the Canons dropped their beads, muttered their prayers, or chanted their anthems; the ruthless hand of Henry had driven them forth upon the wide world to become supplicants for charity, alongside those who had erstwhile found succour at their gate. The priory and site had in the present year been granted to Thomas Culpepper, but he had not yet taken possession, and it lay desolate and silent, as did, at the same time, many another noble abbey and priory, scattered over the face of England.
Lord Wake, as he was called by courtesy, although he was only a tenure Baron, had been out in the direction of the now thriving town of Kingston-upon-Hull, and about the middle of the afternoon he came riding over the drawbridge, and passed through the arched gateway into the courtyard of his castle. Upon his fist he carried a favourite hawk, and he was accompanied by his falconer, and three or four liveried retainers. He leaped agilely from his horse, which was taken charge of by a groom, and, handing his hawk to the falconer, he passed through a portal to the domestic apartments, where he was met by hiswife, a singularly beautiful woman, not much past the bloom of girlhood, and as modest, chaste, and pious as she was charming in feature, person, and demeanour. "What sport have you had this morning, husband mine?" inquired she, after an affectionate embrace. "Excellent," he replied; "my falcon has done wonders, he brought down a heron, who, from his size, must have been the patriarch of the shaw; but, dearest life! sport of that kind, brave as it may be, is as naught to the happiness I experience in thy dear society." Other expressions of endearment of a similar kind passed as they sat down to dinner, composed chiefly of venison and boar's flesh. Lord Wake was a great hunter in the surrounding woods of his domain, and as he sat at dinner he was surrounded by half a dozen petted boar and stag hounds, who gambolled at will about the apartment, or sat on their haunches, looking up at their master in anxious expectation of stray bones, which were thrown to them with no niggard hand.
The meal passed over almost in silence, which was only broken occasionally by remarks and discussion on domestic topics; but when it was finished, and Lady Wake had taken up herembroidery-frame, her husband told her that his sport had brought him to the gates of Kingstown, where he learnt that the King was in the town, who had arrived there unexpectedly. He was on his progress to York to meet his nephew, James V. of Scotland, and had come by a circuitous route "for fear of the enraged people," who, exasperated at the dissolution of the religious houses, and the King's assumption of supremacy over the Church, had two or three years previously raised a formidable insurrection, which they denominated the "Pilgrimage of Grace." The Mayor (Henry Thurcross), Lord Wake said, had sent the Sheriff to meet his Highness at the "boarded bridge" of Newland, on the confines of the county of Hull; had himself, with the aldermen, received him with great obeisance and due formalities at Beverley-gate, and had conducted him to the Manor Hall, the usual residence of Royalty when in the town, where he now was enjoying the splendid hospitality of the Corporation.
"The caitiff," exclaimed Lady Wake, "what does he want down here? His presence betokens no good, and woe betide those with whom he sojourns."
"Bluff King Hal," as he was frequently termed, was no favourite with the better class of ladies; and especially with such as were of a devout turn of mind, and were regular and punctual in the performance of their religious duties, as enjoined by their father-confessors. His propensity for chopping off the heads of his wives, or of divorcing them when a new beauty enthralled his amorous susceptibilities, caused him to be held in detestation by all right-minded women; and his sacrilegious deposition of the Holy Father's authority in England, combined with his so-called brutal dispersion of the religious fraternities and sisterhoods of the realm, and unwarrantable plunder of the holy places of the land, caused him to be looked upon by the devout as an incarnation of Satan. Such were the views of Lady Wake, who felt keenly the loss of Haltemprice, which had been to her a sanctuary of heaven, and to which she had been a most generous benefactor.
Whilst Lord and Lady Wake were conversing on this subject, the sound of a trumpet was heard outside, followed by the opening of the great gate at the summons, "In the King's name," and the clatter of a horse's hoofs over the drawbridgeand into the courtyard. Lord Wake hastened out and found an herald seated on horseback, who, when he announced himself as the lord of the castle, gave three blasts of his trumpet, and then delivered his message:—"His Highness the King Henry, the eighth of the name, by the grace of God, defender of the faith, and supreme head of the Church of England, to the Lord of the Barony of Cottingham, usually styled Lord Wake, greeting—It is His Highness's pleasure that on the morrow he will come, God willing, to Baynard Castle, and partake of the hospitality of the noble Baron and Lady Wake. God save the King." In the course of conversation with the magnates of Hull, at the Manor Hall, he had made inquiry respecting persons of note residing in the neighbourhood, and Lord Wake was mentioned as keeping up a magnificent establishment within three or four miles of the gates of Hull, and as being blessed with a wife of surpassing beauty. The King's licentious propensities were at once aroused at hearing this. "Fore God," quoth he, "I will betake me thither, and with mine own eyes see whether this Yorkshire beauty is the paragon you represent her to be;" and hesummoned his herald into his presence and despatched him with the above message to Cottingham.
Lord Wake was thrown into consternation at receiving the King's greeting and message, and, before giving an answer, went indoors to consult his wife.
"Holy Mary!" said she, "what a disaster! We must avoid it in some way or other. Never will I meet the woman-slayer and desecrator of God's temples within these walls."
"True," he replied, "we must find some means of averting it if possible, but meanwhile it will be necessary to send a civil and loyal reply," and returning to the courtyard, he bade the herald inform the King that he felt highly flattered at His Highness's condescension in proposing a visit to his humble house, and that on the following day preparations should be made for greeting him in the best way his humble means afforded. When the herald had departed, Lord Wake pondered deeply on the dilemma in which he found himself placed by the King's proffered visit. He felt that it was impossible, except by taking some desperate step, to evade it, but something must be done, as he feltassured that the honour of himself and that of his wife were at stake, well knowing, as he did, the unbridled passion of the King, and that if it were thwarted the most perilous consequences might ensue. The confiscation of his estates might be looked for in such case; but better, thought he, lose my land, than my wife her honour. This train of thought led him to think of his castle, where he had lived so happily with the beloved of his heart, when suddenly the idea struck him—What if I burn down my castle! The King could not come for entertainment amidst its ruined walls and smoking embers, and though I should sacrifice my home, I should preserve what is far dearer to me—my wife, pure and undefiled as when I led her to the altar. The more he thought of the project, the more fully he became assured of its practicability as an effectual bar of defence against the King's intentions. He submitted the idea to Lady Wake, who, without the slightest hesitation, concurred in the proposal.
The seneschal of the castle was then called in—a faithful old retainer, who had been in the family for two or three generations of lords, and who might be intrusted with the keeping ofany secret of his master. He was informed of the nature of the peril hanging over the family, and of the method projected by Lord Wake to avert the evil. He had been born and bred up in the castle; knew every nook and corner of it; loved it with a devoted affection, almost as if it had been a thinking, sentient being; and could not without an excess of grief see it destroyed; yet he recognised at once the necessity of the case, and not being able to devise an alternative, so as to save the old towers and walls, undertook, as proposed by his master, to fire the castle that night.
Lord and Lady Wake then proceeded to pack up all the more portable articles of value, jewels, money, family papers, and heirlooms, which were conveyed secretly to the unoccupied Priory of Haltemprice, and thither they went themselves, issuing from a postern, and crossing the moat by means of a raft stationed there for the purpose. When the retainers, men-at-arms, and domestics, all save the sentinals on duty, had retired to rest, the seneschal, heaped together a quantity of combustible materials in proximity to a mass of old and dry woodwork panelling on the walls, which he set fire to. The flames soon caughthold of the woodwork, which, blazing up, got a complete hold of the building. He then rang the alarm-bell and roused up the sleepers, telling them that he had been awakened by the smell of burning. Of course all was done that could be done, under his direction, for the subjugation of the fire, but the appliances were so utterly inefficient, consisting merely of a line of men passing a chain of buckets from hand to hand after being filled from the moat, that the fire soon overcame all their efforts to extinguish it, and the roof soon after falling in, it blazed up into the midnight sky, illuminating the country for miles round. The flames were distinctly visible from Hull and Beverley, and numbers of persons from both towns hurried to the scene of disaster, but could afford no assistance, the fire having by that time gained such an ascendency that they could but stand and gaze, awe-stricken, on the scene of devastation. Intelligence was conveyed to the King the following morning of the "accidental" fire at Baynard Castle, and to show his sympathy he offered to contribute £2,000 towards its restoration, which was respectfully declined by Lord Wake, and the King, after sundry measures for the improvement of theport of Kingstown, crossed the Humber and returned to London.
The tradition adds, further, that this Lord Wake, dying without issue male, the manor was divided between his three daughters, who were respectively married to the Duke of Richmond, the Earl of Westmoreland, and Baron Powis, and that those portions thus acquired the names they still bear of Cottingham Richmond, Cottingham Westmoreland, and Cottingham Powis.
Tradition, however, is prone to error, and in this narrative there are several discrepancies and anachronisms. There was then no Baron Wake, the barony having fallen into abeyance more than a century previously; but the holder of the manor, being a feudal Baron, might bear the title by courtesy. Secondly, Leland saw the ruins of the burnt castle in 1538, two or three years before the visit of King Henry to Hull, and he mentions the division of the manor into four parts as having taken place previously, the fourth part being held by the King.
NESTLINGin a lovely valley in the most romantic part of Cleveland lies the little town of Guisborough, with the mouldering ruins of its once famous Priory. At the time of the Conquest it consisted of three manors, which were given to the Earl of Moreton, and soon after, united into one manor, passed to Robert de Brus, Lord of Skelton, to holdin capite, by military service. In the year 1129 he founded the Priory of Canons of the Augustine order, and endowed it with a manor of twenty caracutes and two oxgangs, with the tenements, mill, and all other appurtenances. It flourished apace, grew rich, and nurtured some learned and eminent men within its cloisters, until it fell beneath the ruthless axe of Henry VIII.
The Chaloners of Guisborough are of Welsh descent, tracing their ancestry to Trayhayrne, son of Maloc Krwm, one of the fifteen peers ofWales. His grandson, Madoc, otherwise Chaloner, was ancestor of Thomas Chaloner, of Beaumaris, one of whose sons was Roger Chaloner, a citizen and silk mercer of London, whose son, Sir Thomas, Knight (born 1521), was eminent as a statesman, diplomatist, and poet; was employed on several embassies; was knighted at the battle of Pinkie for bravery; and was author of several esteemed works—"The Praise of Folly," "De Republica Anglorum," and many others. He purchased the manor of Guisborough of Sir Thomas Legh, to whom it had been granted at the Dissolution, for the sum of £998 13s. 4d.
"These towering rocks, green hills, and spacious plains,Circled with wood, are Chaloner's domains.A generous race, from Cambro-Griffin traced,Fam'd for fair maids and matrons wise and chaste."
"These towering rocks, green hills, and spacious plains,Circled with wood, are Chaloner's domains.A generous race, from Cambro-Griffin traced,Fam'd for fair maids and matrons wise and chaste."
His portrait was painted by Holbein and by Antonio More, the former engraved by Holler, the latter exhibited at Leeds in 1868.
Sir Thomas, Knight, his son (born 1559, died 1615), succeeded to the Guisborough estates, and was the discoverer of the alum mines. He was twice married, and had issue several children, of whom the eldest—William—was created baronetin 1620, by the title of Sir William Chaloner, Bart., of Guisborough, in the county of York; Rev. Edward,d.d., an eminent polemical writer; and Thomas and James, Parliamentarian officers and regicides. At college he gained some reputation by his Latin and English verses, but was not equal to his father as a poet. He was, however, a good naturalist, at the time when the science was little understood and less studied. In 1580-84, he madele grand tour, and spent some time in Italy, where he associated with all the most eminent literary and scientific men of the day.
Being a keen observer of natural objects and phenomena, he had noticed that on a certain part of his Guisborough estate the soil never froze, that it was speckled with divers colours, chiefly yellow and blue, which sparkled in the sunshine, and that the trees and shrubs which grew thereon spread their roots laterally, and penetrated the earth very superficially, and that their leaves were of a peculiar tint of green. When in Rome he paid a visit to the Pope's alum works at Puzzeoli, where he noticed with his quick, observant eye that the earth and trees presented the same remarkable features as those on hisGuisborough estate, and he immediately came to the conclusion that his land was impregnated with alum. He hastened back to England to test his hypothesis, which he soon verified by experiment, and saw that a mine of wealth lay beneath his feet. But how to work and prepare it he knew not, and there was no one in England who did, and scarcely any one in Europe, outside of Italy, which then had a monopoly of alum, and he set his wits to work to devise some means for separating it from the earth, and preparing it as a manufactured commodity for the market.
Alum is a mineral salt found in clay and other earths, and is a valuable commodity used in various manufactures, and for other purposes. It was first extracted from the earth in which it was embedded, and prepared for use in the East, chiefly at Edessa, in Syria; afterwards near Constantinople; and, on the fall of the Eastern Empire, the alum workers transferred the industry to Italy where it was established in various places, and was confined to the Peninsula for more than a century, after which it spread into Germany, France, and Flanders. The Popes had works at Rome and Civita Vecchia, and carefully guarded their secret, not allowingthe workmen to leave the country on any pretence whatever, under pain of excommunication, as the profits of the sale brought a handsome revenue to their coffers.
Sir Thomas Chaloner cogitated the matter in his mind, and the more he thought, the more he saw that the only mode of bringing his alum mines into operation was by kidnapping some of the Pope's workmen, a difficult and perilous task, but which he resolved to attempt, and with that view went again to Italy. Of course the best place for accomplishing his object was at Civita Vecchia, a seaport in the Papal States. Thither, therefore, he went, and lived in retirement, eluding observation as far as possible, but mingling, whenever he could, with the alum workers, ingratiating himself with them by means of wine, friendly and familiar converse, and the judicious distribution of money. By these means he became acquainted with their characters, and with their hopes and aspirations. Three of the more intelligent he singled out to work upon, but each one separately. He would take them into a wine-house and ply them well with the tongue-loosener, and then turn the conversation upon their occupation and future prospects. Ofthe three, one seemed to have some influence over the other two, who, to a certain extent, took their opinions from him, and re-echoed his sentiments; and Sir Thomas shrewdly perceived that if he could win over this one, the others would follow, like sheep after the bell-wether. They were seated in a wine shop one day, talking over the alum workers' great grievance. "And so," said Sir Thomas, "you would really like to escape from this life of slavery?" "I should, indeed," was the reply; "work here is neither better nor worse than that of a galley-slave." "Why not escape, then, and fling off the chains that gall you?" "Alas, sir," he replied, "we are too closely guarded and watched to render escape at all hopeful. Besides, money would be required, and of this we have but sufficient to get our daily bread." "But if anyone were to put the means of escape in your hands, would you be sufficiently daring to make the attempt?" "Most certainly." "And you would not fear the Pope's excommunication, which would assuredly follow?" "Look here, signor, although I am a poor ignorant alum worker, I know something of what has been doing in England and Germany, and have heard ofWickcliffe, Luther, and Calvin, and I should care no more for excommunication at the hands of the Pope than I should for a snap of his fingers."
Chaloner saw he had got hold of the right man, and he gradually revealed to him his discovery of alum earth in England, and proposed that he should accompany him thither to work it, where he would be absolutely free, and promising him a much higher remuneration than he was receiving in Italy; to which the man readily assented, and undertook to gain over the other two men, who he felt assured would accompany him. At a subsequent meeting of the four confederates the question was discussed as to the best mode of smuggling them out of Italy, and, after several projects had been suggested and dismissed as impracticable, it was decided that they should be conveyed on board a vessel in casks, as merchandise, and liberated when out at sea.
Sir Thomas at once set to work to find means for carrying out his project, the first being to find a vessel captained by one equally resolute with himself, and to whom he could venture to entrust his secret. Fortunately for his purpose, there chanced to be lying in the harboura ship from the port of Hull, commanded by an honest fellow-Yorkshireman, a man who, as he said himself, "feared neither the Pope nor the Devil." With this captain he sought an interview, explained who he was, and by careful steps laid his scheme before him. The rough, weather-beaten old captain grasped him by the hand, and, giving it a vigorous shake, swore to stand by him "through thick and thin." He was waiting for a return cargo, had got his vessel half filled, and he agreed, whether full or not, to set sail on that day week. Sir Thomas then went into the market and purchased a quantity of grain, to be delivered on board in six days, packed in casks. He then caused three casks to be constructed secretly, with false ends to be filled with grain, leaving the central part open and pierced with holes, in great number, but so small as to be scarcely perceptible. On the sixth day, when the alum works were closed, the three men came to him, and were placed in the three casks, which, having passed the ordeal of the Customs Office without suspicion, were shipped, and at daybreak the following morning the vessel was loosed from her moorings, spread her canvas, andbade adieu to Civita Vecchia. It was soon discovered at the alum works that the three were missing, and strict search was made for them, without result. At length it occurred to the authorities that they had escaped in the English vessel which had sailed that morning, and three ships were sent in pursuit of her, but she had several hours' start, and had a fair wind, and the pursuers never caught sight of her. The men were released from their uncomfortable berths when at a safe distance, and revelled in their feeling of liberty as they sped over the blue waves of the Mediterranean, across the Bay of Biscay, and up the Channel, arriving safely at Hull, whence they proceeded with Sir Thomas to Cleveland.
Sir Thomas established his works beyond Bellemondegate, where now mountains of refuse shale are piled up. For some time the works yielded but small profit, and it was not until Chaloner got more workmen from Rochelle that they became a success, after which they yielded a handsome revenue, and had the effect of breaking down the Italian monopoly, and reducing the price of alum in England to one-half its former cost.
When Chaloner had got the mines and works into thorough working order, King Charles I., at the instigation of some of his rapacious courtiers, made a claim to them as Crown property, and he was compelled to surrender them. They were then let to Sir Paul Pindar, at a rent of £12,500 per annum, to be paid into the Royal Exchequer, besides £1,600 per annum to the Earl of Mulgrave and £600 per annum to Sir William Pennyman, but they were restored to the Chaloners by the Long Parliament. Eight hundred men were employed on the works, and the alum sold at £26 per ton, which left a large residue of profit. Other mines were discovered in Cleveland, on the estates of the families of Phipps, Pennyman, Fairfax, D'Arcy, and Cholmley, when competition brought down the price, and consequently reduced the profits; and, as some of these were situated nearer the sea-coast, with greater facilities for shipment, the Guisborough mines became less and less profitable, and were eventually abandoned.
This conduct on the part of King Charles caused the Chaloners to become zealous Parliamentarians in the Civil War. Sir Thomas's sons, James and Thomas, drew theirswords against the King, and both sat as members of the High Court of Justice for his trial. The former was tried as a regicide after the Restoration, was condemned to death, and drawn on a hurdle to Tyburn for execution, but received a reprieve when the halter was round his neck; was remitted to the Tower, and died of poison, it was reported, by his own hand, "an invention," says Markham, in his Life of Fairfax, "of the carrion vultures of the Restoration."
The latter, at the Restoration, was included in the list of those excluded from pardon, but saved his life by flight. Winstanley says of him, "He had travelled far in the world, and returned home poysoned with that Jesuitical doctrine of King-killing, which he put in practice, being the great speech-maker against the King, ... and a great stickler for their new Utopian Commonwealth, but upon His Majestie's return fled, his actions being so bad as would not endure the touchstone."
ONEfine summer's morning, in the year of grace 1742, the little inn of the little town of Marblehead was in a state of great bustle, in anticipation of the visit of some Government officials from Boston to dine there. The landlady, rather vixenish in temper and tongue, was busily occupied in attending to the culinary department, and at intervals scolding a young girl of sixteen, who was scrubbing the floor, and was the maid-of-all-work in the establishment, working from early in the morning till late at night for a small pittance of wages.
Marblehead was a small fishing town or village about sixteen miles from Boston, in New England, consisting of a cluster of log-built and straw-thatched houses, amongst which stood conspicuously forth the little hostelry, in consequence of its sign of King George the Second's head swinging and creaking from a crossbeamover the highway. The inhabitants were almost entirely of Guernsey descent, a brave people, but not so loyal as the sign of their inn would seem to indicate, as after the war of the Revolution there were in the town 600 widows of patriots who had fallen; and, in the war of 1812, 500 Marblehead men were prisoners of war in England. The washing of the floor was not completed when the sound of horses' feet was heard coming along the road, and in a few minutes three gentlemen alighted at the door, gave their horses in charge of an extemporised ostler, and entered the house. The landlady made a profound curtsy to her guests, and at the same time rated her hand-maiden for not having the room ready for the gentlemen. "Don't scold her," said he who appeared to be the chief of the group; "I dare say the little lassie has done her best, and perhaps we have arrived earlier than we were expected." The girl, who was dressed in homely attire, and without shoes or stockings, turned her head with a silent glance of thanks to the speaker—a glance which he pronounced to himself to be angelic.
The gentleman who thus came upon the scene was a Mr. Charles Henry Frankland, thirty-sixyears of age, and slightly bronzed in feature from his early residence in Bengal, where he was born. He was the eldest son of the Governor of Bengal, Henry Frankland, who had been brother and heir-presumptive of Sir Thomas Frankland, third baronet of Thirkleby, in Yorkshire, but he had died in 1736, leaving this son heir-presumptive to the baronetcy in his place. In 1741 he had been appointed Collector of the Customs at the port of Boston, and on this summer's morning, with two subordinates was paying a professional visit to Marblehead, which lay within the Boston collection. The more he saw of the girl, as she waited at table during dinner, the more was he struck with the beauty of her features and the faultless symmetry of her figure. As was said of her, "Her ringlets were black and glossy as the raven; her dark eyes beamed with light and loveliness, and her voice was musical and bird-like." He entered into conversation with her, and found that her name was Agnes Surriage, and that her parents, of a humble position in life, dwelt at a neighbouring village. He was charmed with the modest and intelligent replies she made to his questions, but found that she was altogether uneducated, andhad learnt nothing excepting how to perform household work, to sew and knit, and "to go to meeting on Sundays." On leaving, he gave her money to buy herself shoes and stockings; but on his next visit he found her again bare-legged, and asking her why she had not supplied herself with shoes and stockings, she replied that she had done so, but kept them to go to "meeting" in.
Becoming more and more fascinated with her beauty, he at length asked her parents to allow him to take her to Boston and have her educated, to which they consented, after some hesitation. He caused her to be instructed in reading, writing, drawing, music, dancing, and all the accomplishments of a fine lady; but although she excelled eventually in sketching, playing, and dancing, and wrote a beautiful hand, she could never master the difficulties of orthography, her spelling to the last being always of an original and curiously eccentric character.
When her education was completed, and she had grown to womanhood, he took her to his home as his mistress, and she bore him a son, who was christened Richard Cromwell. She was, however, looked upon askance by the Quaker circles of Boston, not on account of her lowly birth, butbecause of her disreputable connection with her "protector." Sir Thomas Frankland, third baronet, died without male issue, in 1747, and Charles Henry, his nephew, succeeded as fourth baronet. Seven years after, he returned to England, with Agnes and his son, to dispute the will of the late baronet as to the disposition of the family estates at Thirkleby, near Easingwold. Sir Thomas made three wills; the first in 1741, wherein he left a slender provision for his widow, leaving the estates to his heir-male. In the second, made in 1744, he left Thirkleby to his widow for life, to pass at her death to the then holder of the baronetcy; and by the third will, dated 1746, he left her the estates, producing £2,500 per annum, and the whole of his personalty absolutely, and to dispose of as she chose. It was contended that the last will was made when he was in an unsound state of mind and under undue influence, and a lawsuit ensued, resulting in the setting aside of the third and the confirmation of the second will. The lawsuit gained, Sir Charles and Agnes went for a tour on the Continent, and in the month of November, 1755, were sojourning in the city of Lisbon. On the 1st of that month, the sun rose, shiningwith almost unusual brightness, and the streets were filled with people going hither and thither on matters of religion, business, and pleasure, little dreaming of, and with nothing to indicate, the catastrophe which was to befall their city. The Franklands had breakfasted at their hotel, and Sir Charles, donning a Court suit, started off in a carriage with a lady to witness the celebration of High Mass in the Cathedral, leaving Agnes at the hotel. They had not proceeded far, and were passing in front of a lofty building, when, without warning, the terrible earthquake occurred, which in eight minutes laid the city in ruins, and swallowed up 50,000 of its inhabitants. The lofty building came crashing down, and buried the carriage and its occupants. What became of the lady is not known, but the horses were killed, and Sir Charles lay bruised and wounded beneath the ruins for an hour. In full expectation of death, he reflected on his past life, and, concluding that he was undergoing a judgment of God for his misdeeds, and especially for having lived in a state of concubinage, made a vow that if he should be rescued, he would show his repentance by marrying the partner of his guilt. Agnes had escaped unhurt, and when the firstshock had passed, fearful that some mischance had befallen him, rushed out in the direction of the cathedral, regardless of the still falling houses, in search of him. As she was clambering over a heap of ruins, she heard moans issuing from beneath, and a voice which she recognised as that of her beloved one. She immediately got together a party of diggers, and, by promises of high rewards, succeeded in extricating him, and after his wounds had been dressed, conveyed him to Belem, where, in process of time, he recovered, and where their marriage was celebrated.
Sir Charles returned to Boston; but in 1757 he was appointed Consul-General to Portugal, and again came to Lisbon. In 1763 he resumed his duties at Boston, retaining his consulship, although absent, until 1767, when he returned to England, and died the following year, being succeeded in the baronetcy by his brother Thomas.
Lady Frankland returned to New England with her son, and they resided upon an estate at Hopkinson which she had inherited through her parents, but at the outbreak of the Revolutionary war in 1775, she, being a Royalist, cameto England, and, in 1782, married Mr. John Drew, a banker at Chichester, and died in 1783.
Richard Cromwell, her son, entered the naval service of England, but retired on his ship being ordered to America, as he felt unwilling to fight against his native land. In 1796 he was living in Chichester with a family growing up around him.
In 1865 there was published at Albany, "Sir Charles Henry Frankland, Bart.; or, Boston in the Colonial Times; by Elias Nason,m.a.," who, in the preface, says—"Who was Sir C. H. Frankland? is a question which a brief story entitled 'A legend of New England,' and published by William Lincoln, in 1843, and still more recently the ballad of 'Agnes,' by Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes here, led the public to entertain: Was he a real person or a myth? Was there ever such a collector of the port of Boston? Was he indeed buried under the ruins of Lisbon at the time of the great earthquake? Was he rescued therefrom by the efforts of a poor girl, named Agnes Surriage, and did he afterwards make her his wife?" These questions the author answers in the subsequent pages of the pamphlet, of which the above is an epitome.
ABOUTthe middle of the seventeenth century, during the Civil War and the Restoration, there dwelt in Bristol one James Phipps, a gunsmith by trade. He was blessed with a numerous progeny; of him it might truly be said that "his quiver was full of them," for he had eventually twenty-six children, of whom twenty-one were boys. Having only his gunmaking trade to depend upon for a living, he found it difficult to provide means for feeding, clothing, and educating them, and often lay awake long at nights, pondering in his mind what he should do to meet the necessities of the case. At that time, and for two or three reigns previously, we had been at work laying the foundations of the present great American Republic, by establishing plantations of colonists, aristocratic and Episcopalian, in the south, and Puritanical in the north, most of whom had been driven thither by the persecutionsthey had undergone in the mother country. Bristol was then the great port of imports and exports of the Western Continent, and James Phipps naturally heard of the unbounded capabilities of the new continent, as also he heard, by tradition, of the vast wealth which the buccaneers of Elizabeth's reign—the old Vikings of Devonshire—brought from the West Indies, Peru, Mexico, etc., into the ports of Bristol, Barnstaple, Bideford, etc., and it occurred to him that here was scope enough for him and all his sons, and he emigrated with them to New England, where William, his youngest son, was born, and he seems to have died soon after, as this son is stated to have been brought up by his mother until he was eighteen years of age.
This William Phipps was the founder of that family who are now lords of Mulgrave Castle, and whose dignity has culminated in a Marquisate. He had received no education, but taught himself to read and write when apprentice to a ship carpenter. At the expiration of his apprenticeship he married the daughter of Captain Robert Spencer, and relict of a rich merchant of the name of Hull, who brought him a small fortune, with which hecommenced business, but his speculations were not successful. But he did not despair, although fortune did seem to frown. He was a man of unbounded enterprise and energy, and he said to his wife, who was lamenting the loss of her money, "Be not cast down, my dear; I will live to be the commander of better men than I myself am now. Providence has great things in store for me, and the time shall come when I will build a fair brick house in the green lane of North Boston, of which you shall be the mistress." When casting about for employment, he chanced to hear of a Spanish galleon, laden with specie and plate, which had been wrecked half a century previously somewhere in the Bahamas, and he resolved to go in search of it, and to endeavour the recovery of the cargo by means of the diving-bell.
Aristotle, 300 yearsb.c., makes some obscure references to a machine of this kind, but what it was or how employed is not known. The first reliable account we have of such a machine is given by Taisnier, who describes a "cacobus aquaticus" (marine kettle) which was exhibited by two Greeks before the Emperor Charles V., at Toledo, in 1538; but it seems to have been ofno practical use, as it had no apparatus for supplying the divers with fresh air. A similar sort of bell, but constructed on better principles, had been made use of on the coast of Mull, between the years 1650 and 1660 to operate upon some sunken vessels of the Spanish Armada, but without much success. It was this which directed the attention of Phipps to the diving-bell, who perceived that by various modifications and improvements of the apparatus it might be made a most valuable instrument for submarine operations, and after a long and patient study, and numberless experiments, he succeeded in constructing a bell very much the same as that now used, and capable of being worked much more efficiently and with greater safety than any previously employed. In consequence of his having thus, by his skill and scientific modifications, produced a really working machine, he is generally styled "the inventor of the diving-bell." He sailed for the Bahamas, but was not able to find the spot where the vessel lay. He received information of another, however, the position of which was more accurately defined, and which held a much greater treasure.
He then sailed for London, his resources havingfailed, where he arrived in 1683, and laid the project before King Charles, who furnished him with a 19-gun frigate, in which he returned to the Bahamas. Before he found the locality of the object of his search, he again became crippled for funds, and went again to London for further assistance, but King James, who had succeeded to the crown in the interval, deeming his views visionary, declined having anything to do in the matter. The Duke of Albemarle, however, was more sanguine and got up a subscription for a fresh outfit, on condition that he and the subscribers should share in the proceeds, and Captain Phipps sailed with two vessels. This time he was more successful; after some search he found the precise spot where the galleon lay, and, by means of his diving-bell, brought up from the wreck thirty-two tons of silver, besides gold plate and jewels, of the estimated value of £200,000. With this splendid prize he came again to England, but on a division of the spoil, he got no more than £20,000, the Duke absorbing £90,000, whilst the remainder was distributed amongst the other subscribers and the crews of the vessels. The King, in appreciation of his ingenuity and enterprise, knighted him, andconstituted him Sheriff of New England. He made a second visit to the wreck, and made a gleaning of what had been left, and on his return to New England he built the "fair brick house in the green lane of North Boston," where he dwelt some time with his wife, now Lady Phipps, who no longer twitted him about the loss of her fortune. He afterwards served in the army, and was appointed, by William III., Governor of Massachusetts; but two years after, refusing to sanction certain corrupt practices, he was charged by his enemies with maladministration of his government. He went to London to clear himself of the false charges, but died there soon after his arrival, in 1694, and was buried in the Church of St. Mary Woolnoth, London, where his widow erected a sumptuous monument to his memory, with a sculptured representation of his achievements in the Bahamas.
Not having any issue by his wife, he adopted Constantine, her nephew, and at his death bequeathed to him the bulk of his fortune. He is said generally, in the genealogies of the family, to have been Phipps's own son; but in "The Life of his Excellency Sir William Phipps, Kt., late Captain-General and Governor-in-Chief ofthe Province of Massachusetts Bay, New England, 1697," which was published during the lifetime of his widow, it is said distinctly, "not having any child of his own, he adopted a nephew of his wife to be his heir." Sir Constantine Phipps, his nephew, who assumed the name of Phipps on inheriting his uncle's property, became Lord High Chancellor of Ireland, was knighted, and died in 1728. William, his son, married the Lady Katherine, daughter of James, fourth Earl of Anglesey, by the Lady Katherine Darnley, a natural daughter of King James II., who re-married John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, Duke and Marquis of Normandy, and Earl of Mulgrave. Constantine, his son, who died 1780, was created Baron Mulgrave of New Ross, in the Peerage of Ireland, in 1768. Constantine, his son, second Baron, was the famous navigator, who made a voyage of discovery into the Arctic regions, and was, in the Pitt Administration, Joint Paymaster of the Forces, a Lord of Trade, and a Commissioner of the India Board. He was created, in 1790, Baron Mulgrave, of Mulgrave Castle, in the Peerage of England, but, dying issueless in 1792, thattitle expired. His portrait may be seen in Greenwich Hospital.
Henry, his brother, succeeded as third Baron Mulgrave of New Ross, and in his person the Barony of Mulgrave, of Mulgrave Castle, was re-created in 1794. He was further created Viscount Normanby and Earl of Mulgrave, in 1812, and G.C.B. He was Governor of Scarborough Castle and Foreign Secretary, 1805-6, and died in 1831. Constantine Henry, his son, succeeded to all his father's titles, and was advanced in the Peerage to the Marquisate of Normanby, in 1838. His Lordship, who died in 1863, was an eminent statesman and diplomatist, was constituted P.C., 1832; G.C.H., 1832; G.C.B., 1847; and K.G., 1851, and held the following offices:—Governor-General of Jamaica, 1832-34; Lord Privy Seal, July to November, 1834; Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, 1835-39; Secretary of State for the Colonies, September to December, 1839; Home Secretary, 1839-41; was Minister at Paris, 1846-52; Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary at Florence, 1854-58; and represented Scarborough in Parliament, 1818-20, Higham Ferrers, 1822-26, and Malton, 1826-30. He was a man of accomplished literarytaste, having published "A Year of Revolution," from a journal kept in Paris, in the year 1848, 2 vols., 1857. Also several novels—"Yes and No," "Matilda," "The Contrast," "Clorinde," and "The Prophet of St. Paul's," and several political pamphlets of great ability, with some other minor works. George Augustus Constantine, his son, the second Marquis was a K.C.MG. and P.C.; was M.P. for Scarborough, 1847-21; Treasurer of the Household, 1853-58; a Lord-in-Waiting in 1866 and 1868-69; Captain of the Corps of Gentlemen-at-Arms, 1869-71; Governor of Nova Scotia, 1858-66; of Queensland, 1871-74; of New Zealand, 1874-78; and of Victoria, 1878-84. He died in 1890, and was succeeded by his son, the Rev. Constantine Charles Henry, the present Marquis, who was born in 1846.
OCTOBERthe thirtieth, 1640, was a day of great bustle and excitement in the town of Beverley. All ordinary business seemed to be suspended, and the streets were filled with groups of people, in earnest discussion, and with persons hastening hither and thither as if on important business, whilst great crowds of burghers occupied the space in front of the old Hanse House or Guildhall, waiting for the opening of the doors. It was the day appointed for the election of representatives to Parliament, and as such an event had not taken place since 1628, excepting that of the spring of the present year, for the Parliament which lasted only twenty-eight days, combined with the irritating circumstances which had caused the issue of the writs, the excitement and the depth of party feeling between the Puritans and the upholders of the policy of Wentworth and Laud, was all the more intense. The King had strivento rule and levy taxes absolutely and irresponsibly, contrary to the Constitution; and the murmurs and opposition became so great as to compel him to summon together the representatives of the Commons to sanction his acts, and grant the necessary subsidies. Hence were the burgesses of Beverley summoned together to elect their representatives to what came to be called in after time "The Long Parliament." In due course they were admitted into the hall, and presently after the Mayor, William Cheppelow, a mercer, entered, and took his seat as Returning-Officer. He was accompanied by the Recorder, Francis Thorpe, the Aldermen, the Capital Burgesses, and the usual officials. After the reading of the writ and other preliminaries, he asked if any one had a candidate to propose, when a burgess proposed Sir John Hotham, "our old representative, who has served us faithfully in four previous Parliaments." Another proposed Michael Warton, Esq., "our worthy townsman, whose principles are well known to us all;" and a third proposed Sir Thomas Metham, Knight, all which proposals were seconded, and the polling proceeded with, the result being the return of the two former, who, the following day, posted upto London to take their seats at the opening of the House on the third of November.
Sir John Hotham was a descendant of Sir John de Trehouse, Knight, of Kilkenny, who, for his services at the Battle of Hastings, had a grant of the Manor of Hotham, near Beverley. Peter, his great-grandson, assumed the name of "de Hotham," and his descendant, Sir John, was summoned as Baron in 1315, which dignity became extinct at his death, as it was a personal summons only. The family subsequently became possessors of South Dalton and Scorborough, both in the neighbourhood of Beverley, which were now held by Sir John, who made the mansion at the latter village his place of residence. He was born towards the end of the sixteenth century, was made a baronet in 1621, and had been five times married. He was now destined, by reason of his return to the Long Parliament, to make his name famous in English history, or, as some might say, infamous. He was not disaffected towards the King and his policy; what he did in opposition thereto he deemed to be his duty to the Parliament of which he was a member, of which, however, he afterwards repented, impelled partly alsoby jealousy at the appointment of Lord Fairfax to the command of the forces in the north, which, he considered, ought to have been given to him, an old experienced soldier, who had served for a long time in the Low Countries, and had fought under the banner of the Elector Palatine at the Battle of Prague.
At the neighbouring town of Hull there was at this time a great store of arms and ammunition, which had been deposited there for the use of the troops in the Scottish expedition, when the King went thither to attempt to cram the Liturgy down the throats of the Presbyterian Scots. It had been under the charge of Colonel Legge, who, on the disbandment of the army, left it under the care of the Mayor of Hull. When the rupture between the King and the Parliament was coming to a crisis, the former went with his Court to York, his secret object being to get possession of the magazine; and the Parliament, suspecting his motive for going north, sent Sir John Hotham and his son, Captain John Hotham, to take charge of it, and not to deliver it up on any consideration, excepting by their order. This occurred in March, 1642. Captain Hotham, hisson, represented Scarborough in the Long Parliament.
In March, the King had sent the Earl of Newcastle to take charge of Hull and the magazine of arms, but the Mayor declined delivering up his trust, and the following month the King proceeded thither in person, to demand admittance, attended by a suite of noblemen and gentlemen. When he appeared before the town, he found the gates shut, the drawbridges raised, and the walls swarming with men-at-arms. He caused a trumpet to be sounded for a parley, when Sir John Hotham, the new governor, accompanied by the Mayor, appeared over Beverley Gate. He had previously sent Sir Louis Dives from Beverley with a message that he was coming with some noblemen to dine with Sir John, who held a hurried consultation with Alderman Pelham, a Member of the Parliament, when they determined upon not admitting him, and upon placing a guard over the Mayor and burgesses, and sent a reply that he could not admit him without a betrayal of the trust reposed in him by the Parliament. When Sir John appeared over the gate, the King demanded admittance, and asked angrily why thegate was shut against him. Sir John replied, "I am sorry to disobey your Majesty, but I am intrusted by the Parliament with the charge of this garrison, with instructions to admit no one who comes with apparently hostile intentions, and I trust that I may not be misunderstood, for nothing is meant in it but the good of the kingdom and the welfare of your Majesty." "Pray, Sir John, by what authority do you act thus disloyally?" "By order of both Houses of Parliament." "Read or show me that authority." "I decline doing so." "Has the Mayor seen it?" "No! I scorn that he should. I am the Governor of the town, and it concerns no one else."
The King then asked the Mayor if he sanctioned this treasonable conduct, who, terrified and abashed in the presence of Royalty, fell on his knees and replied, "My liege! glad should I be to open the gates if it were in my power; but, alas! both I and the inhabitants are under guard, and soldiers, with drawn swords, threaten our lives if we make the attempt."
"Well, Sir John," said the King, "this act of yours is unparalleled, and will, I fear, lead to dismal consequences, and I cannot do less thanproclaim and proceed against you as a traitor; but I will give you an hour to decide." He then retired, and, on his return, found the Governor inflexible in his refusal to admit him, excepting with a following of not more than twenty persons, upon which he caused a herald to proclaim him a traitor, and all who abetted him guilty of treason, shouting, "Fling the traitor over the walls! Throw the rebel into the ditch," after which he retired to Beverley, and spent the night there. The following morning he sent a messenger with a promise of pardon for the past, and his favour for the future, if Sir John would open the gates to him, and when he received a negative answer he returned to York. The King then sent a complaint to Parliament of Sir John's conduct, who replied that he had done quite right, and that his proclamation of him as a traitor was a flagrant breach of the privilege of Parliament.
As the King could not obtain admission to the town by persuasive means, he resorted to force, and laid siege to it, and the Parliament sent an additional force of 2,000 men to maintain the defence. About this time, Lord Digby, a Royalist, was captured and brought into Hull, who, inrepeated conversations with Sir John on the evils he was bringing upon the kingdom, half persuaded him to admit the King; but eventually he resolved not to betray his trust. Nevertheless he facilitated the escape of his lordship, and this was what first caused him to be viewed with suspicion by the Parliament. Soon after, the King went into the Midlands, and set up his standard at Nottingham, leaving the siege of Hull in the hands of Lord Newport, and the civil war commenced in earnest. Captain Hotham, a dashing and dare-devil officer, left Hull with a small force, had a brush with and was defeated by Glemham, on the Wolds; frightened Archbishop Williams from Cawood, who fled to Wales, and never saw his diocese again; disputed the passage of the Tees with Newcastle, and again at Tadcaster against an overwhelming force; and assisted Sir T. Fairfax in the capture of Leeds.
By various instrumentalities, the Hothams, father and son, had now veered round from the Parliamentarian to the Royalist side. The younger had met the Queen when she landed at Burlington, kissed her hand, and promised obedience to the King's will; and the elder had beenin correspondence with Newcastle, and had undertaken to deliver up Hull on the 28th of August. But all this had come to the ears of Parliament, and measures were at once taken to frustrate his intentions. Orders were sent to Thomas Raikes, the Mayor, Sir Matthew Boynton, Hotham's brother-in-law, and Captain Meyer, commander of a vessel of war in the Humber, to arrest him and his son, and send them up to London, and they lost no time in the matter. Captain Meyer landed one hundred men, who seized the citadel and the block-house, and they placed a watch round Sir John's house. Captain Hotham they captured without difficulty, and placed in security during the night, and at daylight went to Sir John's house to take him, but found he had effected his escape.
Too old a soldier to be caught in a trap like that, and too old in strategy not to be able to devise means of extrication from a peril, he, having learned from his spies what was passing, and seeing that matters were coming to a crisis, determined upon flying to his house at Scorborough, which was fortified and able to stand a short siege. He eluded the watch by passing out by a private door at the back, andmade his way, by obscure lanes and streets, to Beverley Gate. When he arrived there he was saluted by the guard, who knew nothing of the order for his arrest, and, assuming a lofty unembarrassed bearing, he ordered the gate to be opened and six of the guards to follow him to Beverley. He was immediately obeyed, and, securing a horse, he rode off in the direction of Beverley; but as soon as he had purposely outridden his attendants, he turned to the right, through Sculcoates, towards Stone Ferry. His pursuers meanwhile learnt what had passed at the gate, and rode after him along the Beverley road. They overtook the six guards, who informed them that Sir John could not be more than a few furlongs ahead on the road, and they spurred on towards Beverley without overtaking the fugitive.
Sir John's house lay three or four miles beyond Beverley, on the west of the river Hull, and as he knew it would be dangerous to pass through the town, he resolved to cross the river and proceed along the eastern side, and re-cross it when he had passed Beverley. Unfortunately, when he came to Stone Ferry, there was no boat, and the river was running too rapidly to allowof swimming his horse across; he therefore hastened on to Wawn Ferry, hoping to cross there, but the fates seemed to be against him; there was no boat there either, and the hazard was too great to attempt reaching the opposite bank by any other means. He paused for a few minutes, thinking over what course he should pursue. There appeared to be nothing for it but to make a bold dash through Beverley. It was true that the town was held by the Parliamentarians, but they might not have heard of the events which had transpired in Hull. Besides, there was no alternative, and putting spurs to his horse's flanks, he soon came in sight of the towers of Beverley Minster. He entered the town by Queensgate, and passing along the streets with an air of indifference, came to the Market-place, which he found occupied by a troop of 700 or 800 men, with his nephew, Colonel Boynton, at their head. With an assumed nonchalant air, he saluted his nephew, and ordered a company of the men to follow, which they were preparing to do, when the Colonel, who had been made acquainted with his treachery, came up, and seizing his horse's bridle, said, "Sir John, you are my prisoner. I respect you as my kinsman, but Imust, although with the greatest reluctance, pass by all tender respect, and arrest you as a traitor to the Commonwealth." Sir John, seeing that resistance was useless, replied, "Well, kinsman, since such is your will I must be content and submit," but, espying a lane close by, he clapped spurs to his horse and galloped down it, followed by his nephew, shouting "Down with the traitor; knock him down;" and a soldier, striking him with the butt end of his musket, brought him to the earth, bleeding and almost senseless. By a strange coincidence, he was confined for the night in the same house where the King had slept after his discomfiture at the gates of Hull. The following morning he was taken to Hull, placed on board Captain Meyer's vessel, and, with his son, immediately conveyed to London. On the 3rd of December they were arraigned at the Guildhall for treason, the Earl of Manchester presiding, and were sentenced to be executed on the last day of the year. The House of Lords, desirous of pardoning him, reprieved Sir John for three days; but the Commons would not listen to it. Captain Hotham was beheaded in due course before his father, which some said was a piece of concertedmalice, that he might not die a baronet, which he would have done had his father suffered first.
On the 2nd of January, Sir John was brought out upon Tower Hill and mounted the scaffold, accompanied by the Rev. Hugh Peters and other ministers and friends. He met his fate bravely and like a soldier, and before laying his head on the block, addressed the people, saying—"Gentlemen,—I know no more of myself but that I deserve this death from God Almighty, and that I deserve damnation and the severest punishment from Him. As for the business of Hull—the betraying it from the Parliament—the ministers that have all been with me and gave me good counsels, I thank them. Neither was I any ways guilty of it. That's all I can say to that act," etc., etc.
It will be seen that he was no orator, and did not give utterance to his ideas in a very clear and coherent manner. The speech of his son, three days previously, was very superior, both in matter and manner.
After Peters had addressed the crowd, putting Sir John's sentiments in better language, the unfortunate baronet placed hishead on the block. His head was stricken off by the headsman, and his mutilated remains were buried in the church of All-Hallows, Barking, the liturgy being read at his funeral, although it had been abolished by Act of Parliament.