Bygone Berkshire

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.

Alfred the Great

By W.H. Thompson"You are a writer and I am a fighter, but here is a fellowWho could both write and fight, and in both was equally skilful!"– Longfellow.

This terse, but sincere and enthusiastic eulogium, on the memory of Julius Cæsar by that stout Puritan, Captain Miles Standish, comes instinctively to the mind, as one contemplates the life of good King Alfred. It is not given to many to be alike famous as sovereign, warrior, lawgiver, and author; but such was Alfred, the first of England's great monarchs. If it is the "cunning," the knowing, or able man, as Carlyle tells us, who is the "king" by Divine right; here was the Saxon king par excellence. His lineage was of the most ancient and illustrious; his father Ethelwulf traced his descent from the most renowned of the Saxon heroes, and his mother Osburga was descended from famous Gothic progenitors. Born at the royal manor of Vanathing (Wantage) in the year 849, the youngest of Ethelwulf's four legitimate sons, he was his father's darling, the fairest and most promising of all his boys. This is doubtless the explanation of the fact that, whilst yet a mere child, he accompanied his sire on a pilgrim journey to Rome. How far this pilgrimage and the impressions which he received from his sojourn in what was still the greatest and most civilized city in Europe, may have influenced his after-life and character it is impossible to say; but the earliest story related of Alfred treats of his aptitude for learning and his love for poetry and books. He learned to read before his elder brothers, and even before he could read he had learned by heart many Anglo-Saxon poems, by hearing the minstrels and gleemen recite them in his father's hall. And his passionate love for letters never forsook him.

Much, however, as he might have preferred it, there was another life than that of the mere student and scholar laid up in store for this noble Saxon. One after another his three elder brothers, Ethelbald, Ethelbert, and Ethelred, occupied the throne, and it was on the death of the last named, in 871, in the twenty-second year of his age, that reluctantly Alfred had to shut up his books, and take up the sceptre and the sword. He now comes before us as

(1). The warrior king.

Never did English monarch ascend the throne in darker days. Recently, it is true, the Saxons had come off victors against the Norsemen in one bloody field – the battle of Ashdune, near Reading, – but this dearly bought victory had in turn been succeeded by a series of discomfitures and defeats, the pagan armies having received fresh and continued re-inforcements. It was in one of these sanguinary conflicts that Ethelred received the wound which, though not immediately fatal, was yet the cause of his death. It was a period of prolonged devastation, misery, and rapine. Nine pitched battles were fought in the course of one short year, and the minor skirmishes were innumerable; the internecine conflict being conducted with the most savage ferocity. Prisoners were never spared, unless it was to extort a heavy ransom; and the countryside was everywhere given up to fire and sword. It is not surprising that Alfred, although already distinguished for his military valour, had not sought the crown. Kingship in those times was no sinecure.

Dark, however, as were the clouds when Alfred came to the throne, still gloomier days were in store. The Norsemen, already masters of all Northumbria, had also practically reduced the kingdom of Mercia; and they were now especially directing their attention to Wessex, the country of the West Saxons. With varying success Alfred confronted the enemy during the opening years of his reign; but he soon discovered that, though he might make treaties with his perfidious foes, they never dreamed of permanently abiding by them; and if he succeeded in withstanding them one year, like fresh clouds of locusts, new re-inforcements appeared on the scene, every spring and summer, from Scandinavia. In the depth of winter (A.D. 878), when it was not anticipated that they would pursue their military operations, the Danes made a sudden irruption into Wiltshire and the adjoining shires, and so utterly discomforted the Saxons, that Alfred, almost wholly deprived of his authority, was driven with a small but trusty band of followers, and his old mother Osburga, into Athelney, a secluded spot at the confluence of the Thone and the Parrett, surrounded by moors and marshes, which served at once for his concealment and his defence. Great were the hardships which Alfred here endured; his life was that of an outlaw. For daily sustenance he largely depended upon chance and accident, hunting the wild-deer, and even seizing by force the stores of the enemy. It is of this period of terrible privation that the oft-told tale of the good-wife's cakes is related. Yet all his misfortunes neither damped his courage, nor subdued his energy.

A most curious and interesting momento of this time has come down to us. The king wore an ornament, probably fastened to a necklace, made of gold and enamel, which being lost by him at Athelney, was found there entire and undefaced in the seventeenth century. It is now preserved at Oxford in the Ashmolean Museum. The inscription which surrounds the ornament: "ALFRED HET MEH GEWIRCAN" (Alfred caused me to be worked) affords the most authentic testimony of its origin.

But meanwhile the men of Wessex had gained a signal victory. Bjorn-Ironside and Hubba, who attempted to land in Devonshire, were killed with many of their followers; and the news reaching Alfred in his seclusion at Athelney, he forthwith determined upon bolder operations. Disguising himself as a glee-man or minstrel, he stole into the camp of the Danes, and was gladly received by the rude viking chiefs as one who increased their mirth and jollity. And so skillfully did Alfred maintain his disguise, that none suspected that he was merely playing a part. He was enabled to learn what he desired, the strength and position of the Norsemen; and having ascertained this, he returned to Athelney, unscathed and unharmed.

He now began to gather an army around him, and it was not long before he felt himself strong enough to confront the foe. Sallying forth, he met the Danes at a spot called Ethandune (probably Eddindon, near Westbury), and, after a murderous conflict, the English were left masters of the field. Though victorious, however, Alfred could not altogether expel the Danes. He was obliged to cede an extensive territory to the invaders and to Guthrun, their leader; viz., from the mouth of the Lea to its source, thence to Bedford, and along the Ouse to Watling Street, or the ancient Roman road; and this territory, together with Northumbria, became henceforth known by the name of the Danelagh, or Danelaw.

In East Anglia, and in the portions of Essex and Mercia thus ceded, the Danes settled and established themselves, not as enemies, but as vassals to Alfred. They appear to have become tired of their life of barbarism. Guthrun also embraced Christianity, and the treaty which he made with the English he maintained with integrity. In Northumbria, whilst the English had been induced to accept the Danish Guthred as their sovereign, Guthred, in turn, acknowledged the suzerainty of Alfred as his superior lord. He also continued true and faithful.

Thus Alfred, although he did not succeed in totally subjugating the Danes, by following up the signal advantage he gained at the battle of Ethandune, accomplished great things. In the course of seven years after his restoration, he was acknowledged as paramount monarch of Britain south of the Humber; Mercia was virtually under his dominion, and Wessex, the wealthiest and best favoured portion of the island, entirely, as well as in name, was under his royal sway.

Yet, whilst he had made peace with the Norse who had settled in England, Alfred had by no means come to the end of his troubles. The Saxon Chronicle records a series of constantly recurring attacks from the sea-roving Danes, who continued to harass the coasts. Into the details of these it is unnecessary to enter. But having once become the master of England, Alfred never relaxed his vigilance; he had London strongly fortified, and constructed a navy. One of the greatest feats of his later life was his victory over the famous Hasting, ablest of all the sea-kings; whose rout was so complete that he was pleased to escape from England with his life. The campaign against Hasting was the last great military achievement of our Saxon hero.

(2). The poet and scholar.

Not only was Alfred the first warrior, but he was also the foremost scholar in his dominions. This may be easily gathered from Asser's interesting memoirs. The King was an elegant poet, and wrote numbers of Saxon ballads, which were sung or recited in all parts of the country. In his original poems, the extent of his knowledge is not more surprising than the purity of his taste, and the simple yet classical beauty of his style. It is highly probable that Alfred diligently studied the Latin tongue between his twelfth and eighteenth years, and that he had a few Latin books with him during his Athelney seclusion. He was accustomed to say that he regretted the imperfect education of his youth, and the want of proper teachers, which barred his intellectual progress. But whatever the difficulties he may have had to surmount (and it is almost impossible to exaggerate them), the fact remains that his literary works shew a proficiency in the classic tongue, which appears almost miraculous in a prince in that dark age. It was probably shortly after making peace with Guthrun, that he invited Asser, the learned monk of St. David's, to his court, to assist him in his studies. Asser was a scholar after Alfred's own heart. The monk tells us that the King's first attempt at translation was made upon the Bible, a book which no man ever held in greater reverence than did the princely student. Asser and the King were engaged in pleasant conversation, and it so chanced that the monk quoted a passage from the Bible with which Alfred was much struck. At Asser's request the King called for a clean skin of parchment, and this being folded into fours, in the shape of a little book, the passage from the Scriptures was written upon it in Latin, together with other good texts. The monarch, setting to work upon these passages, translated them into the Saxon speech. This was the beginning of his translation of the Bible.

Nothing is more astonishing in the story of the the great Englishman than that he could find time for literary occupations; but he was steady and persevering, and rigidly systematic. When not in the field against the Norsemen, his rule was, eight hours for sleep, eight for the affairs of state, eight for study and devotion. His mind was ever open to receive fresh information. He took a continued delight in obtaining the details and particulars of strange and foreign lands. Before Alfred, nothing was practically known of the greater outside world by the Anglo-Saxons. But the King drew around him a number of bold and adventurous spirits, men, who had travelled far, and he revelled in the stories which they recited of their own experiences, and the information which they had gleaned of still more remote lands, which they themselves had not seen. One of these was Othere, who had been far north into the Arctic circle, another was Wulfstan, who took a voyage round the Baltic, and gathered many strange and interesting facts concerning those climes. All the information which he collected, the King committed to writing in the plain mother tongue, and in enlarging the text of the Spanish chronicler, Orosius, whose work he translated, he introduced the voyages of Othere and Wulfstan.