Bygone Berkshire

Cumnor according to Dugdale is derived from Cumanus, second abbot of Abingdon, who died circa 784, but Dr. Buckler, author of "Stemmata Chicheleana," and keeper of the Archives of Oxford University, who was vicar of Cumnor for twenty-five years, suggests St. Coleman or Cuman, an Irish or Scottish saint, who lived in the sixth and seventh century. As early as the year 689, Colmonora is mentioned in a Latin deed in the Abingdon Chronicle, twenty hides of land there being conferred upon the Abbey by a Charter of Ceadwalla, and again in a similar deed, being a Charter of Kenulph, dated 851, in which is an illuminated portrait of that King. An Anglo-Saxon boundary attached to Eadred's confirmation Charter to Abingdon in 955, mentions Cumnor, as does also a subsequent charter of Edgar, 968, which also has a carefully defined boundary attached to it, and the biography of St. Ethelwold, who refounded the Abbey after its destruction by the Danes, 240 years after the original foundation of Abbot Heane. It is very improbable that these documents are authentic. They may possibly be copies, but are more probably forgeries, made for various purposes in later years, based in many instances doubtless upon the fabulous history of Geoffrey of Monmouth, who died about 1154, leaving what was professedly the translation of a work in the British tongue made at the request of Walter, Archdeacon of Oxford. It contains perhaps a modicum of fact, but is not dependable; it has been largely drawn upon by later so called historians and romancers. Nevertheless there is every reason to believe that Cumnor from the very earliest times belonged to Abingdon Abbey, its name in early documents being written Cumenoran, and the Church is known to have been one out of but three spared by the Danes, when they ravished the district around and destroyed Abingdon in the reign of Alfred the Great.

The Norman Conquest has left us more certain and dependable records. From the survey of Domesday we ascertain that Comenore in 1086 contained thirty hides of land, having been rated tempore Regis Edwardi, at fifty hides. It will be remembered the early English Charters gave twenty hides as its extent, so that the Manor had by this time been either added to, or the hidation varied, possibly both. The Manor maintained sixty villani, sixty-nine bordarii or freemen, with four servi or bondsmen; the Church is mentioned, as also two fisheries of the value of forty shillings yearly. Sevacoord, or Seacourt, and Winteham probably Wytham, were a portion of Cumnor which is the first manor mentioned in Domesday Book, belonging to the Abbey of Abingdon, and in evidence of ancient right it is expressly written there: – "Semper fuit de Abbatia." Cumnor Church is again alluded to in a Papal Bull dated 1152, but there are now no visible traces of this edifice. The present church which underwent thorough restoration some forty years ago, having previously suffered by injudicious alterations at various times, is of the Transition period, the most ancient portion being the tower, according to the dicta of ecclesiastical architects, not erected before the year 1250. Many objects of great interest to the Archæologist are yet preserved in and about the church, despite the more recent restorations. Among others, are two stone coffins, enclosing the remains of former Abbots of Abingdon, two piscinæ, and of yet more recent date the tomb of Anthony Forster, of whom I shall have something to say presently. Some of the stone carvings within the church, are of great delicacy, being remarkably fine examples of fourteenth century work, in the shape of two corbels, the capitals of three columns, a window, and the portion of an arch.

In the chancel are some poppy heads, carved upon both sides; on one is the sacred monogram I.H. S. upon a shield, upon another the five stigmata, i. e., the pierced feet, the hands, and heart of the Saviour, also a cross; upon the reverses are also carved the crucifixial emblems, – the ladder, spear, and reed or staff, to which is affixed a sponge; there are also the hammer, pincers, and three nails. Upon the upper shield are the Vestments, the crown of thorns, and bag of money.

A letter referring to Cumnor Church during the Civil Wars, written by a member of the Pecock or Peacock family is printed in Mercurius Academicus. This family held the Manor at that period, Richard Pecock compounding for his estate by paying the considerable sum of £140. Many of the family lie buried in Cumnor Church, and the school is mainly supported by the legacy of a Mrs. Peacock.

The letter refers principally to the conduct of certain soldiers, who, finding nothing worth removing, took down the weathercock, "that might have been left alone to turn round," and did much other damage. The letter is dated Thursday, February 26th, 1644, and is as follows: – "To present you with as honest men as those of Evesham and honeste you will not deeme them to be when you heare they came from Abingdon, to a place called Cumner in no smaller a number than 500; where the chieftains view the church, goe up into the steeple and overlook the country as if they meant to garrison there, but finding it not answerable to their hopes and desires they descend, but are loathe to depart without leaving a mark of their iniquitie and impiety behind them. Some they employ to take down the weather cock (that might have been left alone to turn round), others take down a cross from off an isle of the church (and this you must not blame them for they are enemies to the cross), others to plunder the countrymens' houses of bread, beare, and bacon, and whatsoever else was fit for sustentation."

There is also copied in a late seventeenth century MS. volume in the British Museum, (Harl. 6365, 53 b.), an epitaph, which, I believe, may yet be seen in the church, and is rather quaint and curious.

From the same MS.,[2 - Harl. 6395, Plut. xlix, g.] I copied a description of Anthony Forsters monument. "In ye chancell against ye north wall, a great marble monument with pillars of marble. On a plate of brass faced to it ye picture of a man in armour, kneeling before a table upon a book. At the foot thereof, his helmett, at ye sides his gauntletts, over against him his wife kneeling, as her husband. Behind her three children, between them this coat; 3 Bugles, Q, 3 phœons, points upwards, with mantling and crest, which is a stag, lodged, and regardant. Gu. charged on ye shoulder, with a martlett, or, and pierced thro' ye neck with an arrow, ar. Behind the man this coat; 3 Bugles, Q., 3 phœons, points upwards, impaling 2 organ pipes in saltere between 4 crosses, paty. Then follow the quarterings. Behind ye woman is this coat: Williams. Az. 2 organ pipes in saltere between 4 crosses, paty. Quarterings as before described. Under them both a great brass plate, on ye part of it under him the following verses – ." These need not now be recorded; they will be found in Ashmole, and also translated in most editions of Scott's Kenilworth. They record his many accomplishments and virtues, and relate he was wise, eloquent, just, charitable, learned in the classics, in literature, music, architecture, and in botany. The date of his death is not mentioned, his burial however is recorded as taking place Nov. 10th, 1572, by the parish register, which cannot err.

He is therein mentioned as A.F., gentleman, the last word being written over an erasure, and it has been thought by some, that an epithet not so complimentary had previously been placed there, but erased, and "gentleman" substituted. I see no reason for such a suggestion; possibly some latin term may originally have been written, e. g., "miles," and the English word "gentleman" was thought more appropriate. At any rate, Anthony Forster was buried at Cumnor, Nov. 10th, 1572. Cumnor Place, Forster's residence, was an early fourteenth century house, used as a residence by the Abbots of Abingdon, and also as a place of removal or sanitorium by the monks, particularly during the plague, or black death, which decimated England under Edward III. At this period, it served both as rectory and manse house, where tithe and rents were paid, and Manorial Courts held, and where tenants were bound to attend to do suit and service for their lands to their superior lords. Such was Cumnor Place, until the dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII. In 1538, it was granted for life by the Crown to Thomas Pentecost or Rowland, last Abbot of Abingdon, in consideration of his having willingly surrendered the Abbey and its possessions to the King. Rowland either died the following year or ceded Cumnor Place to the King, who seems to have retained possession for seven years, when, by patent, dated Windsor, Oct. 8th, 1546, the Lordship, Manor, and rectorial tithes of Cumnor, with all its rights and appurtenances, particularly the Capital Messuage, Cumnor Place, and the close adjoining, called the Park, and three closes called Saffron Plottye, etc., were granted to George Owen, Esq., the King's physician, and to John Bridges, doctor in physic, in consideration of two closes in St. Thomas' parish, Oxford, the site of Rowley Abbey, and the sum of £310 12s. 9d., cash. William Owen, son of Dr. Owen, married, April 24th, 1558, Ursula, daughter of Alexander Fettiplace, the estate being then settled upon him. Shortly afterwards, Cumnor Place was leased to Anthony Forster, and it was in his occupation when occurred the tragic incident which forms the concluding scene in Sir Walter Scott's Kenilworth, the death of Amy Robsart, wife of Sir Robert Dudley, afterwards Earl of Leicester.

In the following year, Anthony Forster purchased the property from Owen, and seems to have greatly enlarged and otherwise improved the mansion. Dying in November, 1572, he devised the estate to Dudley, subject to a payment of £1,200 to Forster's heirs. These conditions, its seems the Earl accepted, but retained possession for a single year only, as is proved by a document among the Longleat papers purporting to be a record of the sale of Cumnor by the Earl of Leicester, to Harry le Norris, ancestor of the Earls of Abingdon, which bears date 15th February, 16th Elizabeth, 1575.

From this time Cumnor seems to have gradually fallen into decay. Possibly the sad end of Lady Dudley may have contributed to this; at all events, rumours were spread among the villagers that her ghost haunted the locality, and a tradition is even yet received by them that her spirit was so unquiet that it required nine parsons from Oxford to lay the ghost, which they at last effectually did, in a pond hard by, the water in which does not freeze it is said, even in the most severe winter. This pond is still shown by the villagers, although they are quite unable to assign any reason for the peculiar conduct of the ghost.

Neglected for nearly a hundred years, a portion of the ruined mansion was then converted into a malthouse, afterwards into labourer's dwellings, and finally demolished in 1810, for the purpose of rebuilding Wytham Church. Among other mementoes of its former owner was an arch bearing upon the label the inscription "Janua Vitæ Verbum Domini. Anthonius Forster, 1575." This, with some handsome tracery windows, was removed to Wytham, the arch being built into the entrance wall of the churchyard. The date and name were for some reason destroyed, possibly to evade an apparent anachronism, for Anthony Forster had been dead two years in 1575. These windows and other objects of interest were engraved in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1821.

It is said and I believe truly, that so great interest was excited in Cumnor Place, by Sir W. Scott's novel, that the Earl of Abingdon was induced to drive some visitors from Wytham to see the ruins, forgetting that some years previously he had given order for their demolition. The disappointment of the party on arriving upon the ground was great, as may be imagined, and not less so that of the Earl, who too late realized his mistake. The disappointment was felt by everybody, for it is said all the world hastened to the site of the tragedy so graphically described by Scott, only to find they were too late. The public was not then aware that its sympathies had been aroused by the vivid imagination and marvellous genius of the novelist, and that while there was just a substratum of fact the greater portion of this historical novel had no foundation other than the great constructive power of the Author. While thousands deplored the untimely fate of Amy Robsart, their sympathies were in truth tributes to the dramatic powers of the novelist, not to the unfortunate heroine; the novel may be said to bristle with chronological inaccuracies, and utter disregard for historic fact.

It has been repeatedly reasoned that novelists should be permitted a certain licence, and in actual fiction this may possibly be; but if the subject and characters chosen are both historical, misconceptions may easily arise, and erroneous statements be indelibly impressed upon the mind of the reader. Let us recall to our memories the outline of Kenilworth, and then notice some of Scott's most glaring historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, and while I have no intention of attempting a defence for Robert Dudley and his followers, for the crime here alleged to have been committed, I believe I shall be able to show that he was, in this instance at any rate, greatly maligned.

The plot in brief is as follows: – Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, son of the Duke of Northumberland, who had been executed for endeavouring to place Lady Jane Grey upon the throne, having secretly married Amy Robsart, desires to be free, and confides his wishes to his retainers, Richard Varney and Anthony Forster. The Countess, who was living in retirement at Cumnor Place, hearing of the festivities given by her husband at Kenilworth, goes secretly there, and has a most affecting interview with Queen Elizabeth, in the course of which the Queen bitterly reproaches Leicester. At length, by specious promises, he prevails upon Amy to return to Cumnor, arranging to come to her as soon as liberated from his attendance upon the Queen. She complies, and is assigned by Forster a portion of the building approached only by a drawbridge in which is concealed a trap-door. At night Varney, riding hastily into the courtyard, gives the Earl's private signal – a peculiar whistle – on hearing which Amy rushes out to meet her husband; but Forster having meanwhile withdrawn the bolts, she falls through the trap. "A faint groan and all is over." Immediate punishment overtakes the criminals. Varney is arrested, but poisons himself in his cell, while Forster, in his hasty endeavour to escape, closes behind him a secret door, and dies a lingering death.

Scott tells us in later editions of Kenilworth (the first was published in 1821), that he based his story upon a beautiful ballad by W.J. Mickle, the translator of Camoens Lusiad, which had deeply impressed him; and Ashmole's Antiquities of Berkshire is cited at length by him as the principal authority upon which the novel was based. But Ashmole was in this instance only a copyist, and his antiquities were not published until 1717, nearly 160 years after Lady Dudley's death. He copied almost verbatim from a most scurrillous work called "Leicester's Commonwealth," published in 1584 for political purposes, known subsequently as "Father Parson's Green Coat," from the colour of the wrapper in which it was introduced from abroad by its author the celebrated Jesuit, Robert Parsons, although the authorship has been attributed to Cecil, Lord Burleigh. It was issued at first in MSS., and eight MS. copies are preserved in the British Museum, and two in the Bodleian. Sir Philip Sidney immediately issued a hasty answer to these charges against his relative, but this was not actually printed until 1746, and had but little effect at the time.

"Leicester's Commonwealth" was no sooner in circulation than the attention of Government was directed to it, and it was stigmatised by the Queen and Privy Council as "most malicious, false, and scandalous, and such as none but an incarnate devil could dream to be true." Without attempting a defence of Leicester, the character of his defamer may assist in forming a judgement how far any of his statements may be received, bearing in mind that both in religion and politics he was antagonistic to the Earl.

Of obscure, if not questionable birth, Parsons was educated in the reformed religion at Balliol College, Oxford, at the expense of his putative father. There he quickly rose to the position of dean and bursar, but was compelled to resign these appointments in order to avoid expulsion for incontinence and embezzlement of college funds. Quitting England for Rome, he then adopted the Romish faith and became a member of the Society of Jesus. Next, visiting Spain, he was most active in urging the Spanish King to despatch the Invincible Armada, and, after its destruction, used all his influence to promote a second invasion. A bold, clever, intriguing, and unscrupulous traitor, he is known to have even contemplated the assassination of Queen Elizabeth, and by his writings to have supported the claims of the Spanish Infanta against King James to the English throne. Such was the man, who did not hesitate to hurl broadcast accusations of the most atrocious character against his opponents, sheltering himself meanwhile abroad from the prosecution his many infamies deserved. To this man principally are traced the calumnies upon Leicester, Varney, and Forster, which have been so unfortunately perpetuated in "Kenilworth."

Much of the interest in the novel centres in the alleged secret marriage of Amy Robsart (who is described as daughter of Sir Hugh Robsart of Devonshire), and Dudley. Amy is made to say, "I am but a disguised Countess, and will not take dignity on me until authorised by him whom I derive it from." Again she is described as "the Countess Amy, for to that rank she was exalted by her private but solemn union with England's proudest Earl," Leicester, as I must here call him, further on saying "She is as surely Countess of Leicester as I am belted Earl."

Now for the facts. Amy was only daughter of Sir John Robsart, a Knight of ancient lineage, belonging to Norfolk, born at Stansfield Hall in that County, afterwards notorious as the scene of the murder of Mr. Isaac Jermy and his son by Rush. She had an illegitimate brother named Arthur, and an elder half-brother by her mother's previous marriage named Appleyard. Among the Longleat papers is a settlement on the husband's side, dated 24th May, 1550, in contemplation of the marriage. On the lady's part a deed executed by her father, Sir John Robsart, is preserved in P.R.O., London, and dated 15th May, 1520. The marriage itself could scarcely have been more public than it was. It must certainly have been well known to the Queen, who not improbably may have been present; her brother, Edward VI., certainly was. I had occasion to examine an autograph diary of this youthful King, now preserved in the British Museum (Cott MS. New Edit. 10), usually described as a "little diary." As a matter of fact the diary is of full quarto size; its first page having the Royal Arms and monogram E.R. in gold and colours. Each leaf has now been placed separately between folio pages for preservation. Bound up with it are many letters from the King, carefully written and principally in latin. In one writing from Hatfield he explains in most affectionate terms that he had delayed writing "Non negligentia sed studium." In this diary is recorded in King Edward's own handwriting that the Court being at Sheen, the old name for Richmond, upon June 4th, 1550.

"S. Robert dudeley, third sonne to th erle of warwic maried S. Jon. Robsartes daughter after wich mariage ther were certain Gentlemen that did strive to who shuld first take away a goses heade wich was hanged alive on tow crose postes. Ther was tilting and tourney on foot on the 5th, and on the 6th he removed to Greenwich."

Canon Jackson found at Longleat many documents dated after the marriage, one a grant of the Manor of Hemsby, Norfolk, by John, then Duke of Northumberland, to his son Lord Robert Dudley, and the lady Amye his wife, 7th Edward VI., 1553; another 30th Jan., 3 & 4 Philip and Mary, 1557, dated Sydisterne, after Sir John Robsart's death; there is also a license of alienation to Sir Robert Dudley and Amye his wife, 24th March, 4 & 5 Philip and Mary, 1558. The marriage therefore was very generally known, and there was neither abduction nor secrecy. I will now show that Amye was never Countess of Leicester, nor was she ever at Kenilworth, and for this reason. Kenilworth was not granted to Sir Robert, otherwise called Lord Robert Dudley, until June 20th, 1563, and he was not created Earl of Leicester until the 29th September following, three years after Amy Dudley's death. Queen Elizabeth did not pay her celebrated visit to Kenilworth until 1575, or fifteen years after Amy's death. It is therefore an absolute impossibility for the latter to have ever known the title of Countess of Leicester, to have been present at Kenilworth during the Queen's visit, or to have had the interview with her described with so much pathos. Endeavours to correct these and similar historical errors have been frequently made, but the attempt appears hopeless. Not long ago, the most influential of our London newspapers reiterated the statement that Amy Dudley was "the wife of Lord Leicester;" but not content with this, the writer further blundered by describing Lucy Robsart, wife of Mr. Edward Walpole, of Houghton Hall, as her elder sister. It is almost needless to say Amy Robsart had no sister, and but one brother, Arthur, who was illegitimate. Lucy Robsart was her aunt, daughter of Sir Terry, or Theodoric Robsart.

Canon Jackson appears to have satisfactorily identified the villain Varney, and rescued him from the unmerited opprobrium cast upon him. Longleat documents point him out as Richard Verney, of Compton Verney, Warwickshire, ancestor of the Lords Willoughby de Broke. This Varney was a knight anterior to 1559, and then apparently a stranger to Lord Dudley; for in that year, Sir Ambrose Cave writes to Dudley, recommending Sir Richard Verney as a fitting person to hold certain office in Warwickshire. In 1561, a year after Amy Dudley's death, he was High-Sheriff of his county, and he did not die until seven years after, viz., 1567, and eight years before Elizabeth's visit to Kenilworth. An anonymous writer in Macmillan, some two years ago, brought forward another Verney. He said, the Willoughbys and Verneys of Compton Merdac, not Compton Verney, did not intermarry till the next century; and co-temporary with the Richard Verney above mentioned was another Richard, belonging to a Buckinghamshire family, connected with the Dudleys both by marriage and misfortunes. Sir Ralph Verney had three sons, Edmund, Francis, and Richard. Edmund and Richard were implicated in the Conspiracy of Lady Jane Grey. Francis had been Elizabeth's servant when in confinement at Woodstock, and had been charged with tampering with a letter, and, we are told, had about as bad a name as any young gentleman of his day. Of Richard nothing is known with certainty, but in 1572, that is five years after the death of Canon Jackson's Knight, a Richard Varney was appointed to the Marshalship of the Bench for life, dying three years after, and on Nov. 15th, the same year, Leicester wrote begging Lord Shrewsbury not to fill up the place vacant by the death of Mr. Varney.

We have remarked that Anthony Forster's epitaph was most eulogistic. This may perhaps be exaggerated, as is undoubtedly Scott's description of him. He makes him out to be the son of the Abbot of Abingdon's Reeve, a widower with one child, Janet; a miserly curmudgeon, bordering on deformity, with no redeeming point save affection for this child. Michael Lamborne speaks to him thus familiarly: —

"Here, you Tony Fire-the-Fagot, papist, puritan, hypocrite, miser, profligate, devil, compounded of all men's sins, bow down and reverence him who has brought into thy house the very mammon thou worshippest."

The Forster of fact, was a totally different person. He was of an ancient Shropshire family, and had married Ann, niece of Lord Williams of Thame, Lord Chamberlain under Philip and Mary. His three children, represented on his memorial brass, predeceased him. He was, towards the close of his life, Member of Parliament for the borough of Abingdon, and chosen, upon at least one occasion, by the University of Oxford to settle a noisy controversy. He was a personal friend of Lord Dudley, and controller of his enormous expenditure. All Dudley's accounts passed through Forster's hands. All payments had to be sanctioned by him. Bundles of such accounts showing careful examination are now at Longleat, filed, says Canon Jackson, as left by Anthony Forster. They all bear his signature or initials, and the date 1566, six years after Tony Foster had been starved to death in his secret chamber.

I would now mention some of the minor circumstances and persons mentioned in the novel, respecting whom chronological errors are noticeable.

We have seen that Varney, to whatever family he belonged, died before the great Kenilworth festivities in honour of the Royal Visit, and that Amy had died fifteen years before that event. Sir W. Raleigh, who in the novel is introduced strewing his cloak before the Queen and subsequently knighted by her with Varney at Kenilworth, was not knighted until 1584, nine years after her visit, twenty-four years after Amy's death; and as he was born in 1552, was actually eight years old when that occurred.

On her journey from Cumnor Place to Kenilworth, accompanied by Wayland Smith, Amy passes through Donnington. They overtake the Hock Tide revellers from this village, also upon the road to Kenilworth. Donnington Castle is also mentioned earlier in the story. To pass through this hamlet, en route for Kenilworth, would be equivalent to travelling from say Reading to Birmingham in order to reach London. It is probable Sir Walter intended to write Deddington, which is in Oxfordshire, and on the direct road Amy would have had to travel, but it is strange the error has never been corrected. The revellers really came from Coventry, an entirely opposite route to that Lady Dudley would have had to pursue.

I have only given a few of the most evident anachronisms which permeate the novel, and many others might be mentioned. Many extracts from the story might be quoted, which show the carelessness of the great novelist as regards chronology; yet dates ought to have met with every consideration from him: he was professedly, at any rate, an antiquary, professionally a writer to the Signet or lawyer, where accuracy is all in all.

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 fellow
Who 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.