The Isles of Loch Awe and Other Poems of my Youth ::

The narrative of this ballad is simply historical, and nothing is overstated or arranged for effect. The Great Northern Insurrection was called “The Pilgrimage of Grace” by its adherents.

The ballad is written from a Roman Catholic point of view. We ought not to judge the actions of religious men from the outside, as they appear to us; but from the inside, as they appeared to themselves.

Three risings are recorded by Hollinshed. The first was an important one. The insurgent army mustered 40,000 men, well-appointed, “ with captains, horsses, armor, and artillerie.” The rebels encamped near Doncaster, where they were met by the royal forces under the Duke of Norfolk. The two armies were prevented from engaging by a sudden overflow of the River Don, (not an uncommon occurrence there at the present day). Afterwards the king pardoned the ringleaders, and the insurgents dispersed.

The second rising was excited by Sir Francis Bigod of Settrington, Yorkshire, in February 1537. It began in his own neighbourhood, extending to the east coast at Scarborough; but was soon suppressed, and Sir Francis himself imprisoned in the Tower.

The third rising took place later in the same year. Its chiefs were Lord Darcy, Sir Robert Constable, Sir John Bulmer, Sir Thomas Percy (a brother of the Earl of Northumberland), Sir Stephen Hamerton (brother-in-law to Sir Francis Bigod), Robert Aske, and others. They were all brought to the Tower, attainted, and executed.

When old Lord Darcy rose in arms,
And many a knight and squire rode forth
To conquer justice from the king
In the Rising of the North.

Strange palmers they, whose staffs were spears,
And suits of steel their pilgrim dress!
Their dames were left in lonely halls
To pray for their success.

221

Their short, sad legend, handed down
To this safe hearth from troubled times,
I would bequeath to all kind hearts
In simple ballad rhymes.

There is a tomb in our Ladye's choir,
Thereon are carved five ancient shields;

The chantry of our Ladye and St. Anne in Long-Preston church.

There is a strong, embattled tower
Amid the level fields.

Hellifield Peel, built by Laurence Hamerton, who obtained a license from the king to fortify it about 1440.

The builder of that peel is laid
Under the arch beneath the stone.
His wife and children with him rest—
He doth not sleep alone.

Sir Richard there rejoins his dame,
Though since her death he won the hand
Of the sister of that bloody lord,
Clifford of Westmoreland.

Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas Lord Clifford and Westmoreland, sister of John the bloody Lord Clifford, slain at Towton Field, and relict of William Plumpton. (See “Plumpton Correspondence,” published by the Camden Society.)

But the last of the knights shall never rest
Beneath the narrow span
Of the arch in the wall of the chantrey built
To our Ladye and St. Anne!

The last of those whose swords upheld
The holy Church's rights,
The last of those who died for her,
The last of the faithful knights;

222

For he has passed the traitor's gate;
And now against the ebbing tide,
The boat goes up to Westminster,
Where they must all be tried

For treason against our Lord the King,
“Defender of the Faith;”
They who defended it indeed
Must die a felon's death!

Lord Darcy's venerable head
Rose white above the crowded hall;
Like a peak whereon the snow doth rest
It towered above them all.

Lord Hussey, too, and Percy brave,
And Constable, and Hamerton,
But nowhere with the brave esquires
Sir Stephen's only son.

Sir Stephen looked around—around—
And upward with a calm regret,
Where ranks of angels hold the shield
Of good Plantagenet.

The hammer-beams in Westminster Hall are carved with large angels holding the shield of Plantagenet.

Their doom pronounced, they left the hall;
The people groaned to hear the fate
Of that old baron, who had served
For fifty years the state.

Lord Darcy was eighty years old at his trial, and had served the state in various high capacities for half a century. His death was deeply felt by the people.

223

Lord Darcy died on Tower Hill,
And Lincoln ground drank noble blood;
So fell they by the tyrant's hand
Whose lust they had withstood.

But all the knights were basely hung;
And on the gallows, side by side,
Like thieves upon the Tyburn tree,
A felon's death they died.

Dodsworth uses the word decapitatus. Other authorities assert that Sir Stephen and his companions were hung at Tyburn.

The very hour Sir Stephen died,
At York they tolled a funeral knell;
Above the grave of his only son
They tolled the minster bell.

“He left an only son, Henry, who is said by Dodsworth to have been interred in M. (qu. Monasterio or Minster?) de Ebor, die quo pater ejus decapitatus est.” It is not improbable that he died of a broken heart in consequence of the ruin of his family.” —Dr. Whitaker's History of Craven.

The minster vaults are full of dead;
But not a corpse lies buried there
That died a more unhappy death
Than poor Sir Stephen's heir.

Down in the crypt they used to pray
For those who slept in the vaults around;

The Crypt of York Minster was used for masses for the dead until the Reformation.

But never more in that dark chapelle
The hymn for the dead shall sound!

And when they buried the broken heart,
Coldly above him the grave did close;
And coldly the priests looked on, and none
Would pray for his soul's repose.

224

His little orphan Margaret
Lived on.

Margaret, daughter of Henry Hamerton, survived him and married.

In peace her lot was cast.
She lived till Time had slowly healed
The sorrows of the past.

Thus ended that rash enterprise,
The famous Rising in the North.
Alas! it was a luckless day
Our ancestors rode forth.

The minster vaults are full of dead;
But not a corpse lies buried there
That died a more unhappy death
Than poor Sir Stephen's heir.—

Heir of a traitor's tainted blood,
Heir of a forfeited estate,

A list of Sir Stephen's manors will be found in Whitaker's Craven.

A ruined house—a broken heart—
A melancholy fate!

University of Virginia Library

THE PILGRIMAGE OF GRACE;

OR, THE BALLAD OF SIR STEPHEN HAMERTON.