WARWICKSHIRE AND ITS HISTORY FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE CLOSE OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY

Warwickshire has rightly been termed “leafy Warwickshire,” for although deficient in scenery cast in a large mould, which may be described as grand or magnificent, it is undoubtedly one of the most lovely of English counties. Though lacking the peaks and deep–set dales of its near neighbour, Derbyshire, which it touches at its northern limit, it is essentially a county of pleasant hills, uplands, and fertile well–watered vales. Some of the richest meadow–land and most picturesque woodland scenery in the Midlands lie within the confine of Shakespeare’s shire.

Few English counties present greater attractions for the student of the past, the archÆologist, the rambler, and the tourist than Warwickshire. Through it gently–flowing rivers, unagitated by sudden drops from highland sources, pass on their placid ways by rich pasture–land and fields of waving corn, or wind in tortuous convolutions through wide–spread parks, and past historic castles and mansions rich in traditions of the stirring times when the shire played its part in the affairs of national history.

Warwickshire, although possessing few ranges of considerable hills, and no very high eminences, the chief ranges being on its north, eastern and south–eastern borders, has just that type of scenery which was so delightfully described by Mrs. Browning in “Aurora Leigh”:—

The ground’s most gentle dimplement
(as if God’s finger touched, but did not press,
In making England!), such an up and down
Of verdure—nothing too much up or down;
A ripple of land; such little hills, the sky
Can stoop to tenderly and the wheat fields climb;
Such nooks and valleys, lined with orchises,
Fed full of noises by invisible streams;
And open pastures, where you scarcely tell
White daisies from white dew; at intervals
The mythic oaks and elm trees standing out
Self–poised upon their prodigy of shade—
I thought my father’s land was worthy too
Of being my Shakespeare’s.

Few better descriptions of the charms of this delightful county have ever been written, although many poets have sung them. An Elizabethan singer, Michael Drayton, said of his native shire, “We the heart of England well may call.”

It was well, indeed, for English literature that such an one as the Bard of Avon should have been born and have lived in this land of pleasant pastures, leafy woodlands, and placid and beautiful streams, and should have treasured early memories of vagrant days amid her sylvan solitudes and river banks with which to gem his after work with sweet imageries of rural beauties, of flowers, and the songs of birds.

Shakespeare loved his native town, and he put into almost all of his plays some glimpses or description of the natural and unfailing beauties of Stratford and its immediate surroundings. And still, in the meadows in which long ago he loved to muse and wander, are found those “daisies pied,” “pansies that are for thoughts,” the “blue–veined violets,” and “ladies’ smocks all silver white,” of which Shakespeare’s maidens often sing. And there are also the willow–hung brooks, and the orchards in spring beauteous in white and pink blossom, and in autumn rich with sun–kissed fruit.

In few parts of rural England are richer and more beautiful meadows to be found than round Stratford. These, through which the placid–moving Avon flows, are in spring and early summer gay with the glistening gold of kingcups and humbler buttercups, and fragrant with meadowsweet. And a little later on the meadow grass is shot and diapered with mauve orchises, tall horse daisies, yellow rattlegrass, blue and white milkwort, and frail bluebells. In the woodlands, which engirdle Stratford a little way beyond the town, there is in spring a rich carpet of the mingled yellow of primroses and vivid ultramarine of wild hyacinths, and a blended odour of awakening earth and flowers. Few counties have been better sung by poets of the past and present than Warwickshire. And much verse which has never been traced to Warwickshire writers doubtless owes its origin to a district which, “beautiful as some dreamland of flowers and fruits, and kingdom of elfish people,” is taken to the heart of all who sojourn within its borders, be it only for a brief period.

Beautiful, however, as the county is, it has interests quite as fascinating for the historian, student, and archÆologist as for the wayfarer and artist. There is, indeed, no lack of historical associations and of famous houses, connected with which are many of the traditions and gallant deeds of past ages, which give an added interest to much that is beautiful in itself.

The history of Warwickshire contains much which is also that of England. Its life throughout the varying ages has been a part of that of the kingdom at large. Although the traces of the earliest of all inhabitants are comparatively few, sufficient exist, or have been discovered from time to time, to enable both historical and archÆological students to construct with some certainty the life of the district in far remote times.

Of the history of Warwickshire in pre–Roman times unfortunately little is known. Even the very name of the county itself is of obscure origin, although it most probably has a distinct connection with that of the tribe Hwicci, who, in common with another tribe, the Cornavii, dwelt in the district, which was a part of the great central kingdom of Mercia, before the Roman occupation.

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Of the Roman occupation, which lasted nearly 470 years, fortunately many memorials and relics have survived. Traces of three of those great highways which exerted so puissant a civilising influence whilst Romans dwelt in Britain, are still to be seen in the portions of the Icknield–Way, Watling Street, and the Fosse–Way, which are to be found in different parts of the county. Indeed, the second of these has given its name to one of Birmingham’s most important streets. Along a portion of the county’s western border, too, runs the Ridgeway; and Alcester, Mancetter, and many other spots were once Roman stations or Roman encampments. But although the Roman occupation doubtless affected Warwickshire with the rest of the kingdom, it was of a more partial character than in many other districts, and appears to have been largely confined to the immediate vicinity of the roads which the invaders constructed. The character of the country, which was at that time densely wooded, permitted the inhabitants to hold it against their conquerors with some success, attacking when the opportunity served, and then retiring into ambush afforded by the nature of the ground.

Details of the early years of the Roman Conquest are fragmentary, and it is not, indeed, till about A.D. 50 that one finds Ostorius Scapula, who was the second governor, erecting a string of military posts and forts on the Severn, indicating at all events the partial subjugation of the British. Ultimately the district of which Warwickshire formed a part became incorporated in the province known by the name of Flavia CÆsariensis, and latterly was called Britannia Secunda.

Comparatively few architectural traces of the days of Roman rule have been found, and of these most have been upon the lines of the two great roads, the Icknield–Way and Watling Street, and then chiefly in the immediate vicinity of the camps or “stations.” Very little history, too, relating to this interesting period has survived the effluxion of time.

The immediate successor of Ostorius appears to have made terms with the leaders of the Hwicci, granting to them certain concessions, and some measure of independence, but these British chiefs later on joined with the Silures in resisting the Romans, and an era of greater severity on the part of the latter ensued.

Under Suetonius Paulinus the domination over this portion of Britain was extended and ultimately rendered complete. At this period “Arden,” which is the general Celtic name for a forest, was to all intents Warwickshire. It certainly was the largest of all British forests, and extended from the Avon as far northward as the Trent, and probably stretched to the banks of the Severn on the west. Its eastern boundary is more uncertain, but there appears considerable reason for believing that it lay approximately along a line drawn from the town of Burton–on–Trent to High Cross, where the Fosse–Way and Watling Street intersect. The early inhabitants of the southern portion of this thickly–wooded and well–timbered district were principally if not entirely belonging to the tribe of herdsmen known as the Hwiccian Ceangi, and this district of Arden was known as the “Feldon,” whilst the northern portion of the county beyond the Avon was then known as the Woodland. The first–named district was of the nature of more open country, with pasture lands and possessing wide cultivated areas, although well–wooded in places; whilst the second named was thickly timbered and scarcely penetrated to any extent by the Roman conquerors. In later times, when England was ultimately divided into shires or counties, in those of Warwick and Stafford were incorporated various portions of the wilder Arden of those ancient days. The name is, however, now only preserved in Warwickshire, where it survives in Hampton–in–Arden and Henley–in–Arden, situated in the Woodland district.

Partial as the subjection to the Roman yoke of what is now known as Warwickshire undoubtedly was, considerable remains of the occupation have from time to time been discovered in the shape of coins, implements, pottery, and other antiquities at Warwick, Alcester, Lapworth, Hampton–in–Arden, Milverton, Birmingham, and other places.

The departure of the Romans affected Warwickshire less than some other portions of the country at first. But there is little doubt that the usual policy of the conquerors of drafting the bravest, best, and youngest men into their own legions for service abroad left “the heart of England” as badly prepared to resist the invasion of other tribes as was the rest of the country. Depleted of many of its bravest warriors, England was, after several centuries of reliance upon an alien power for defence, when the Roman conquerors departed left at the mercy of any who chose to attack. Not only were all the legions required at home to resist the Saxon invasion under Alaric, who poured his hosts of barbarians over the wide–spread Roman Empire, but the British youth who had been drafted abroad returned not, and thus, as Gildas says, Britain, despoiled of her soldiers, arms, and youth, who had followed Maximus to return no more to their native shores, and being ignorant of the art of war, groaned for many years under the constant incursions and ruthlessness of the Picts and Scots.

For some considerable period after the departure of the Romans few historical records relating to Warwickshire exist. And if, as George Eliot wrote in The Mill on the Floss, “the happiest nations have no history,” then the county which gave her and the “Bard of Avon” birth must have been a pleasant spot for a long period. There is probably a reasonable explanation of this circumstance when its position is considered. Situated in the centre of England, and far removed from the seaboard, it naturally escaped much of the storm and stress of invasion and attack from which less happily placed districts in those wild, early periods of national history so constantly suffered. Except for a record that one Credda, a Saxon commander of note, successfully penetrated into the wooded solitudes of Warwickshire, there are few data obtainable for the construction of an historic sketch of this region until the time of the Saxon Heptarchy. Then it became a part and parcel of the wide–spread kingdom of Mercia, and not only enjoyed a share of its rule and barbaric pomp and circumstance, but also played a not inconsiderable part in the wars and feuds of the various Mercian rulers.

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The capital of several of these monarchs was Tamworth; which anciently enjoyed the distinction of standing in both Staffordshire and Warwick, concerning which the Saxon Chronicle of 913 records, “This year, by the help of God, ÆthelflÆd, lady of the Mercians, went with all the Mercians to Tamworth, and there builded a burgh early in the summer.” In those times Kingsbury, on the Tame, was also a place of importance as a royal residence, and, according to Dugdale, the farmhouse, formerly the Hall, stands on the spot where stood the palace of the Mercian kings. Tamworth was destined to play its part in one of those fierce and lurid conflicts between the Saxons and the Danish invaders which took place after the town had been burned by the latter. Near by, too, in A.D. 757, another battle took place between Ethelbald, the tenth king of Mercia, and Cuthred, King of the West Saxons, when the former was slain by one of his own followers. At Seckington, about five miles to the north–east of Tamworth, is a tumulus, which not only marks the site of the battle, but also the burial–place of those who fell.

In the latter half of the eighth century Offa, who ultimately became the greatest ruler of the West of those times, raised the kingdom of Mercia to a height of greatness and prosperity that it had never before enjoyed,—an importance which it continued to hold for a period under the rule of his son Cenwulf. Warwickshire, as a part of Mercia, must naturally have benefited by its greatness and progress, but during the reign of Cenwulf the seeds of a far–reaching revolution were being sown, the fruits of which were the uniting of the kingdoms of Wessex and Mercia by Ecgberht or Egbert, King of the West Saxons, who has been sometimes incorrectly described as the first king of England.

The incursions of the Danish invaders, which had been of frequent occurrence prior to the reign of Egbert, assumed a much more formidable aspect almost ere the King had succeeded in welding together the separate kingdoms under one head. Their first unwelcome visitations had begun in 787, some thirteen years before Egbert’s accession.

In 868 they once again invaded and seriously ravaged Mercia. Two years later they conquered East Anglia. A year later their triumphant progress extended into Wessex, where they at first achieved some successes, although that kingdom was ruled by a wise and heroic ruler in the person of Æthelred, the brother of Alfred the Great, who succeeded him. In the following year, 871, no less than nine pitched battles were fought between the Danes and the Saxons.

It is supposed that Mercia about this time was only a portion of the kingdom of Burhred, the last native king of central England, who had succeeded Ceolwulf. This in 874 had been divided by the victorious Danes, and committed as a tributary state to Ceolwulf. Be this as it may, the whole of Warwickshire, there is little reason to doubt, came into the hands of Alfred the Great by the Treaty of Wedmore in 878, made between him and Guthrun the Danish leader, and was ultimately formed by him into a duchy under his daughter ÆthelflÆd and her husband Æthelred.

The effects of the Danish settlement were important on the future history of the kingdom, for it was that of a new people with different customs, modes of life, and traditions. How far–reaching the occupation was can be traced in local nomenclature, and the counties which were anciently West Saxon still retain the names and boundaries of the divisions founded by the successors of Cerdic. Mercia, in contradistinction to the local divisions of Wessex, which were evolved naturally, was apparently mapped out, and the extent of the Danish settlement of the county of Warwick may be traced from the fact that Rugby is the southernmost town possessing the Danish affix by, whilst there are a considerable number of places so distinguished in the more northern part of the county.

In the several massacres of the Danes which took place during the period comprised by the last few years of the tenth and first years of the eleventh centuries, the part played by Mercia, and, as a consequence, by the district afterwards to be known as Warwickshire, was considerable. The ultimate vengeance for these massacres, which was taken by Swend in 1013, was shared by the Mercians as well as by the other inhabitants of East Anglia and central England. And the coming of Canute three years later was destined to have a far–reaching effect upon the history of the district, and of England generally.

Arriving with his army and Eadric, the Saxon Earldorman, who had betrayed his fellow–countrymen previously, and had, so the Chronicles state, fled from England to escape their vengeance, Canute crossed the Thames at Cricklade and entered and ravaged Mercia, proceeding into Warwickshire during mid–winter’s tide, where the Danes ravaged and burned and slew all that they could come across. Afterwards Canute and his forces besieged London. “But,” says the Chronicler, “Almighty God saved it.” Failing to capture the city, the Danes once more returned into Mercia, and carried fire and sword into its vales and woodlands, slaying and burning whatever they overran.

On the death of Æthelred the Unready two years later, in 1016, Canute was chosen king at Southampton, and Edmund, surnamed Ironside, in London. The latter’s reign was short but glorious; several battles were fought with the Danes and victories won, in consequence of which Canute agreed to a division of the kingdom between Edmund and himself. In this division Canute took Mercia and Northumbria, and Edmund the rest of England. In a few months the latter died in London, and Canute became by common consent King of England.

The Danish leader’s reign brought peace and a large degree of prosperity for the people over whom he had been destined to rule. And during his sovereignty Warwickshire at least experienced immunity from ravishment by fire and sword, and enjoyed a measure of good government. In the years which immediately followed little happened to disturb the peace of the county, although bloody feuds occasionally wrought destruction in contiguous localities.

With the death of Edward the Confessor a brief period of unrest ensued, whilst Harold was engaged in a struggle to retain the throne he had ascended and in resisting the invasion of William of Normandy, who claimed that the crown of England had been left him by Edward the Confessor.

In the fierce Battle of Hastings, waged on the heights of Sussex, Harold fell fighting, and with him ended the history of the country under its Anglo–Saxon kings.

Under them England had gained a foretaste of those principles of individual and personal liberty, in comparison with which all other so–called freedom can be but a mockery.

The extent of the occupation of Warwickshire by the Saxons can be easily traced by the curious from the number of marks, as their early settlements were called. Thirty–one of the large number of thirteen hundred and twenty–nine names of settlements, which have been traced throughout the land, belong to Warwickshire. Some few of the most notable were Leamingas (Leamington), Beormingas (Birmingham), Ludingas (Luddington), Whittingas (Whittington), Poeccingas (Packington), Ælmingas (Almington), Secingas (Seckington), and Eardingas (Erdington).

Warwickshire is not possessed of many Saxon remains. Of architecture dating from before the Conquest the fragments of round–headed door cases at Kenilworth, Stretton–on–Dunsmoor, Ryton, Honingham, Badgeley, and Burton Dassett may be mentioned. While at Polesworth nunnery, the ruins of Merevale Abbey, and in the churches at Salford Priors and Beaudesert there are some fragments. Occasionally Saxon jewels have been turned up in the soil. Perhaps amongst the most interesting of these relics are the two Saxon jewels of cut gold, one set with an opal and rubies, and the other adorned on both sides with a cross between two rudely–fashioned human figures, each holding a lance or sword in one hand, found more than a century and a quarter ago at Walton Hall, near Compton Verney. Tumuli, of course, exist in different parts of the country, from which at various times bones, skulls, and small ornaments have been excavated.

Until the coming of William the Conqueror Warwickshire was almost without historians or records, although an attempt at a survey and the accumulation of historical data had been made in the previous reign of Edward the Confessor. Though the Saxon Chronicle gives many interesting and valuable details concerning lands, places, and incidentally also of the life of the people of the period, it is to the Domesday Book, that monumental work of the Conqueror, all historians and students have to go when in search of information regarding the English counties at the time of, immediately prior to, and after the Conquest. The value of this truly wonderful work as regards Warwickshire in particular is considerably enhanced by reason of its containing a comparative report of the nature, extent, and value of the different estates, names of towns, and position of roads in the reign of Edward the Confessor. From its pages one is enabled to gain a more or less vivid idea of the extent of the county, its inhabitants, and its peculiarities at a time when English history and that of Warwickshire was in the making.

In this wonderful work, commenced in 1081 and completed in 1086, are to be found records of all the original Saxon landowners (many of whom were afterwards dispossessed by their conquerors), and the value and extent of their estates. The original holders of the Saxon manors and estates in Warwickshire suffered severely at the hands of the Norman invader; and the pages of the Domesday Book afford interesting evidence of how wide–spread these confiscations were. The population of the county at that time was a few less than seven thousand, all told.

The period immediately succeeding the Conquest was one of great suffering for the vanquished. Year after year the Saxon Chronicle sets down a tale of wars, pestilences, storms, and famines, and although there is no direct reference to Warwickshire, it is certain that the county bore its part in “the sufferings inflicted by the acts of tyrannous man and the wisdom of God.”

From the tangle of the history of this period it is no easy task to seek to justly estimate the part played by Warwickshire in the history of the country at large.

But towards the end of Henry III.’s reign it was the scene of some of the most stirring and momentous episodes of the Barons’ War. The struggle between the King and the Barons under the leadership of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, centred, so far as Warwickshire was concerned, round Kenilworth and Warwick. De Montfort at the outset of the war garrisoned the former castle and placed Sir John Gifford in command. The latter and the troops of the garrison promptly ravaged the country round about, destroying the manor–houses and farms of those who were well–affected to the King. And finding that the Earl of Warwick had espoused the Royal cause the Kenilworth garrison, under the leadership of its governor, surprised and made a vigorous attack upon Warwick, taking the Earl and Countess prisoners.

In the year following the Battle of Lewes was fought, on May 14, 1264, in which the Barons under De Montfort were victorious. Prince Edward and his troops afterwards made a forced march and appeared before Kenilworth and routed De Montfort and dispersed his force. De Montfort took refuge in the castle, and ultimately effected his escape. With the small force at his command Prince Edward felt unable to successfully attack a fortress of such strength, but in a skirmish hard by he succeeded in capturing much booty, and no less than fifteen of the Barons’ standards, which were destined a short time later to prove of peculiar service to the victor.

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Abandoning all intention of reducing Kenilworth Castle Edward and his troops pushed on their way towards Evesham, just over the border, in the neighbouring county of Worcestershire, bearing the captured standards in the van. At Evesham lay the Earl of Leicester, awaiting his son De Montfort, who, at the time of his defeat near Kenilworth by Prince Edward, had been on his way to join the Earl, then in Wales. Deceived by the standards the forces of the Barons prepared not to resist the advancing army, but to welcome it, under the mistaken impression that the force was that of their expected friends.

After the fierce engagement, fought on a torrid August day in 1265, on the high ground known as Green Hill, between the roads to Birmingham and Worcester, and about a mile outside the town, in which not only was the Earl of Leicester, Henry de Montfort and many nobles slain, but the power of the Barons finally broken, Simon de Montfort, who had escaped, fled to Kenilworth and afterwards to France.

After the conclusion of the Barons’ war, for almost two centuries this most lovely of English counties rested in the tranquillity which during that period marked the years as they passed in central England, whatever happenings fell to dwellers on the coasts.

Only the merest echoes of the French wars of Edward III. and the glorious victories of Crecy and Poitiers seem to have reached the peaceful vales of Warwickshire; though old Records and Chronicles bear witness that the country contributed of her money and her sons to uphold the might of England. And the same may be said of the brave doings at Agincourt, Crevant, Verneuil, and Herrings; and the defeat sustained at Patay which counted for so much in the future history of the race. At most the disturbing influence of these wars was represented by the rumours, which travelled not fast in those times, the visits of the recruiting officers of the day, the appeal for followers made by some manorial lord, or the breathless tales told by returned wounded, or veterans from the “stricken fields” of fair France.

The religious life of the county was, as in other parts of England at this time, ministered to by the monks of foundations, such as Warwick Priory; Stoneleigh Abbey, a Cistercian monastery founded by the monks of Radmore, Staffordshire, who relinquished their estates in that county to Henry II. in exchange for those of Stoneleigh; Temple Balsall, near Knowle, erected by the Knights Templars in the reign of Richard II.; Combe Abbey, near Coventry, the second Cistercian foundation in the county, built in the reign of Stephen; Merevale Abbey, near Atherston, founded and richly endowed by Robert, Earl Ferrers, in the middle of the twelfth century in one of the most beautiful spots in the northern part of the county; and the once magnificent Maxstoke Priory, built in 1336 by William de Clinton for an establishment of the Augustines. From these and other religious houses emanated what of learning and religion the countryfolk knew in the Middle Ages, and with the passing away of the monkish owners at the time of the Dissolution, although abuses had undoubtedly crept in which called loudly for and needed stringent action and redress, Warwickshire was the poorer. It was to the monasteries and religious orders, rightly or wrongly, that the humble folk had looked for salvation, protection, and healing in the ancient days when almost all learning as well as knowledge of physic was to be found within cloistered walls.

With the accession of Henry VI. of Winchester, weak and totally unfitted to govern during the turbulent times which lay in the immediate future, trouble soon manifested itself amongst the powerful nobles; these the King proved quite unable to reduce to order. To make matters worse nearly the whole of the vast possessions held by England in France, which had been won by the triumphant arms of Henry V., were lost, adding to the bitterness and discontent which already was bringing the country at large to a state bordering upon anarchy. The serious family quarrels which had commenced whilst the King was still a minor, involving many of the noble houses, either in support of the claims of the House of York or the House of Lancaster, became acute. Shakespeare, in “Henry VI.,” well and vividly pictures the historic scene in the Temple Gardens, in front of which in those days flowed a “clear, reed–begirt Thames,” which was destined to give the coming contest its name, and describes the quarrel between the Earl of Somerset and Richard Plantagenet. The Earl of Warwick, whilst in the company of the latter, by tradition is stated to have plucked a white rose, which was afterwards adopted as the badge of the Yorkists, and whilst doing so he makes the following speech:—

This blot that they object against your house
Shall be wiped out in the next parliament,
Call’d for the truce of Winchester and Gloster;
And, if thou be not then created York,
I will not live to be accounted Warwick.
Meantime, in signal of my love for thee,
Against proud Somerset and William Pole,
Will I upon thy party wear this rose:
And here I prophesy,—This brawl to–day,
Grown to this faction, in the Temple Garden,
Shall send, between the red rose and the white,
A thousand souls to death and deadly night.

In the bloody struggle, which lasted intermittently for a period of thirty years, and was foreshadowed so accurately by Warwick’s speech, his own county was destined to play a far more intimate and important rÔle than many other parts of England where, indeed, the battle royal between the houses of York and Lancaster was regarded with comparatively slight interest. With the final rupture of the parties, which took place in 1455, Warwickshire entered upon another period of unrest, such as had afflicted its peace, progress, and prosperity during the Barons’ War.

The struggle was possibly rendered the more disastrous from the fact that the county was divided in opinion regarding the merits of the “rival Roses.” The supporters of the House of York numbered many of the most powerful families in Warwickshire, in addition to that of Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, destined to go down to posterity as “the King Maker.” But while the town of Warwick was for York, this advantage was somewhat counterbalanced by the strong Lancastrian sympathies of Coventry, but twelve miles distant.

Henry of Lancaster and his Queen, Margaret, had sedulously wooed the latter town by frequent visits, and also by making it and several adjoining parishes a separate county. Coventry saw a good deal of the Red Rose faction, and at the re–commencement of the war, which had languished after the first battle of St. Albans in 1455, at the time the Earls of Warwick and March (the latter of whom was afterwards made Edward IV.) set out for London in search of the King’s forces, the Lancastrians were actually quartered at Coventry. The troops, however, did not remain long in the town, but marching south–east under the command of the Duke of Buckingham, encountered the Yorkist forces at Northampton on July 10, 1460, suffering a disastrous defeat, when Henry himself was captured. Amongst the more notable Warwickshire adherents of the King who fell was Sir Henry Lucy, of Charlecote, near Stratford–on–Avon.

Ten years later saw Warwick “the King Maker” espousing the cause of Lancaster. After his quarrel with Edward IV. he had fled to France, and there at the Court of Louis XI. had met with and been reconciled to Margaret, and exiled Queen of Henry VI. of Windsor, and Edward’s own brother the Duke of Clarence. In the same year (1470) Warwick and Clarence made a descent upon England, and Edward fled to Flanders. On the landing of Warwick, Henry VI., who although deposed was still alive, was proclaimed; and for a short period the Lancastrian dynasty may be said to have been restored.

On the return of Edward in the following year the Earl of Warwick took the field at the head of the Lancastrian forces. He was not long destined, however, to profit by his change of sides, for, encountering the army which Edward, who had been rejoined by the Duke of Clarence, had hastily gathered together at Barnet, “the King Maker” was utterly defeated and slain on April 14, 1471. The landing of Margaret, which had taken place at Weymouth on the same day, caused the Lancastrian forces to rally after the battle of Barnet, but they were finally overthrown on May 4 at Tewkesbury, after which Edward, son of Henry and Margaret, was treacherously assassinated by the King and his brother; and the Duke of Somerset, who had been captured, executed.

With the defeat and death of “the King Maker” Warwickshire’s active participation in the struggles of the rival Roses may be said to have come to an end.

A few years later the House of Warwick became allied to that of York by the marriage of Richard III. with Anne, daughter of the Earl of Warwick, and widow of the unhappy Edward V., who had been murdered by Richard, his uncle.

The final struggle between the rival Roses took place not in Warwickshire, but in its sister county Leicestershire at Market Bosworth, in the sanguinary battle of August 22, 1485, which by the defeat and death of Richard III. brought the Plantagenet line of English sovereigns to an end.

Upon the accession of Henry of Richmond after the battle of Bosworth, the Earl of Warwick, son of the Duke of Clarence, was imprisoned in the Tower. And on the advent of Perkin Warbeck, who represented himself to be Richard, Duke of York, son of Edward IV., the fact of Warwick’s imprisonment was used by King Henry VII.’s enemies to his injury and disparagement.

The fate of Warbeck was destined ultimately to involve that of the unfortunate Earl of Warwick. Bacon puts the position in a brief phrase, which cannot be easily surpassed for vivid imagery. He says, “it was ordained that the winding ivy of a Plantagenet should kill the true tree itself.”

By the execution of the Earl upon Tower Hill in 1499 the male line of the Plantagenets, which had flourished in great royalty, power, and renown from the time of Henry II., came to an end; and there was no other Earl of Warwick for a period of nearly half a century.