WARWICKSHIRE AND ITS HISTORY FROM THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY TO MODERN TIMES For many years after the decisive battle of Bosworth the history of Warwickshire was marked rather by peaceful and steady progress than by events of intense interest. No great occurrence of a military or catastrophic character disturbed its sunny hills and fertile vales. And even during the reign of Edward VI., which witnessed the historical struggle between the Duke of Somerset and Earl of Warwick for power, Warwickshire enjoyed a period of rest and tranquillity, unaffected by the schemes and plotting of John Dudley, who had been created Earl of Warwick by the King. On the death of Edward VI., however, the county became involved in the attempt of Warwick, who had been made Duke of Northumberland, to place Lady Jane Grey, who had just married his son Lord Guildford Dudley, on the throne to the exclusion of Mary, half–sister of the late King. The attempt completely failed and resulted in Warwick’s execution as a traitor on Tower Hill on August 22, 1553, his death being followed the next year by that of the unfortunate lady who had been made the innocent instrument of his over–weening ambition. During Mary’s reign Warwick’s grandson, Ambrose, was restored to favour, and although the county was involved in the rising of the Duke of Suffolk and Sir Thomas Wyatt in February 1554 to depose the Queen and prevent her marriage with Philip of Spain, the House of Warwick was not concerned in the rebellion, which was speedily quashed. Warwickshire was not permitted to escape the cruelties and persecutions which distinguished the disastrous reign of Mary, and among the historical memories which the county should for ever honour and cherish with undying love are those of the martyrdom of Robert Glover and Mrs. Joyce Lewis, both of Mancetter, and of others; the former of whom was burned at the stake in Coventry on September 19, 1555, in company with Cornelias Bungey. In the succeeding reign of Elizabeth the county had its part in the general progress and prosperity of the nation at large. The fear of the threatened Armada of 1585 found Warwickshire, as other counties, ready and willing to furnish its quota of men and money for the defence of England. And as the time of danger drew nearer and the designs of Philip of Spain became a reality, the numbers of the levies made in the county increased, until in December 1587 the Lord–Lieutenant received orders from the Queen to provide 600 men, properly selected and equipped. Large loans were also successfully raised, Rather less than half a century after Shakespeare’s birth the county was once more brought into prominence by the famous Gunpowder Plot. Not only were many of the chief conspirators members of well–known Warwickshire families, but much of the plotting took place in the county. The conspiracy, which was intended to compass the death of King James and his eldest son Prince Henry, and other Protestant noblemen on the opening of the Parliament in November 1605, was in the beginning largely the work of one Robert Catesby, of Bushwood Hall, near Lapworth. Catesby had taken part in the abortive rebellion of the Earl of Essex in the previous reign, but had been pardoned after having paid a fine amounting to £3000. He would appear to have been “the born plotter” he was called by an historian of the period, for he was mixed up in numerous conspiracies previous to the “gunpowder Catesby and his fellow conspirators, in addition to compassing the death of King James and the heir to the throne, proposed to seize the person of Prince Charles or that of the Princess Elizabeth, then living at Combe Abbey, near Coventry, which had been but recently erected by Lord Harrington. The ultimate intention being to marry the Princess to some Catholic nobleman. Catesby’s mother was a Roman Catholic, a Miss Throckmorton of Coughton Court, near Alcester. His father, originally a Protestant, had been frequently brought to book and fined for recusancy. It was probably the persecution of his father that turned Robert Catesby’s undoubted gifts for plotting into the channel of the famous Gunpowder Conspiracy. He at first associated himself with three desperadoes, and ultimately with Guido Fawkes. The plotters met to arrange the details of their plan chiefly at Bushwood, Clopton, Coughton Court, and the ancient manor–house of Norbrook, not far from Warwick, the home of John Grant, one of the chief conspirators. This latter place was the magazine where the arms were stored, and also a general rendezvous, but the headquarters were the Lion Inn, at Dunchurch. At this time Catesby himself was residing at Ashby St. Ledgers, Northamptonshire, after he had sold his Warwickshire estates. The plan was to have a hunting match at Dunsmore, near Dunchurch, and then the On the 5th of November there was a large muster of people—invited by Sir Everard Digby, whose part in the plot it was to bring about a “rising” in the Midlands—concerned at Dunchurch, ostensibly for a hunting party. All day they hung about the street of the little town, or sat in the parlour of the low–gabled Lion Inn, hungering for news. Towards midnight these were thrown into a panic by the arrival of Catesby, Rokewood, Percy, the Wrights, and others who had fled from London on the arrest of Guido Fawkes the night before, whilst he was at work in the vaults beneath the Houses of Parliament laying the train that was to explode the gunpowder on the following day. The principal conspirators, who, instead of fleeing the country on Fawkes’ arrest, had proceeded post–haste to Dunchurch, in the hope of still seizing the Princess and raising a rebellion in her name, on reaching the village decided to continue their flight, with others who joined them, on the news of the failure of the plot. It was ultimately decided to make a stand at Holbeach House, Staffordshire, the residence of Stephen Littleton, who had only recently joined the conspiracy. To reach it they had to ford a river, and in doing so their arms and ammunition became damp. Whilst drying the powder in front of the fire a spark fell On the arrival of the sheriff of Worcestershire and his posse at Holbeach, the house—which had been seriously damaged by the explosion—was attacked, and Catesby and Percy, a member of the Northumberland family, were shot in the courtyard, where they had intentionally exposed themselves. Rokewood was severely wounded and taken prisoner with Winter, Grant, Morgan, and several less known plotters who had retreated into the house. Others were afterwards taken whilst hiding in the cover afforded by Snitterfield Bushes, some six or seven miles to the south–west of Warwick. Thus ended one of the most notable conspiracies in English history, the heinousness of which has been the subject of much controversy both in the period immediately following its failure and in recent times. With the capture and death of the chief participants, and the ultimate trial and punishment of those who had not succeeded in making good their escape, Warwickshire once more relapsed into its normal condition of peace and quietude, from which it was, however, destined to be rudely awakened by the yet more stirring events of the great Civil War. At the outbreak of the struggle between Charles I. and his parliament the county generally declared itself Although the first serious encounter between the opposing parties took place in the neighbouring county of Worcester on September 23, when Prince Rupert gained an advantage over a body of Parliamentarian troops, what may be called the first battle of the war took place just a month later, a little to the south of Kineton, on the plain below Edge Hill, by which latter name the engagement is known. Following hard upon the raising of the Royal standard at Nottingham, Lord Essex at the head of the Parliamentarian forces seized Worcester. About the middle of September the King and the army which had flocked to his standard marched to Shrewsbury, from which town on the 12th of the following month they set out for London. On the 18th of October Charles Essex, who had left Worcester upon hearing of the Royalist move towards the capital, reached Kineton on the eve of the 22nd of October with a portion of his army, numbering about 13,000 foot and regular horse, with some 700 dragoons. He was thus numerically inferior to the Royalists, whose forces numbered about two thousand more foot. The intention of the Parliamentary leader was to rest his men on the following day (Sunday), so as to allow the remainder of his troops to come up with him. These consisted of two regiments of foot, eleven troops of horse, and seven pieces of ordnance. The approach of Essex, the number of his forces and his intentions became known to Prince Rupert, through the pickets which he had judiciously stationed on the high ground at Burton Dassett. A hasty council of war was held at Cropredy, at which it was decided to attempt to check the Parliamentary advance, and to give Essex battle. Throughout the night of Saturday October 22, Almost before it was light the main body of the Royal army struck camp, and marched by way of Mollington and Warmington to a position on the Edge Hills extending from Edge Hill House on the south to Knowle End on the north, the King’s standard being placed and displayed on the site now occupied by the Round Tower. The Royal Line was well protected both on its flanks and in the rear; whilst a complete view of the Parliamentarian army, then disposed in three lines of battle on the plain below in front of the little town of Kineton, was obtainable, the ground in front of the Parliamentarians being even more “open” than it is at the present time. There would appear to have been good hope on the Royalist side of a successful issue to the impending battle. The advantage of position certainly lay with Charles’ troops. The King, after reconnoitring the enemy through a telescope from Knowle End, where now stands a crown–shaped mound planted with trees, rode along the lines of his army clad in steel, wearing a star and garter, and a black velvet mantle over his suit of armour. He afterwards addressed the officers, gathered in his tent for last instructions, in these words, “Come life or death, your King will bear you company.” It was the Earl of Lindsey, the King’s Lieutenant–General, who acted as impromptu chaplain and offered up a quaint and brief prayer in these words: “O Lord, Thou knowest how busy I must be to–day! If I forget Thee, do not Thou forget me. March on, boys!” Through that long Sunday morning, on October 23, 1642 (November 2, new style), the forces of Lord Essex lay and watched the enemy on the heights above them, and distant from them scarcely more than a couple of miles; showing no disposition to risk an attack upon a position which was undoubtedly so advantageous as to be worth several thousand men. At about one o’clock it was decided by the King and his officers to descend the steep face of the cliff, and make a frontal attack upon the Parliamentarians disposed in a long line passing through Battle and Thistle Farms. In Essex’s own regiment commanding a troop was Oliver Cromwell, then forty–one, who was destined to ultimately crush the Royal cause on the fields of Marston Moor and Naseby. Prince Rupert, who, earlier in the day, had caused embarrassment by his refusal to serve under orders save those of King Charles himself, led the cavalry on the right, Lord Wilmot on the left, whilst the command of the centre was vested in Sir Jacob Astley and General Ruthven, with the King and reserves of pensioners in the rear. Although the day was fine overhead the ground was wet and miry, and proved heavy “going” for troops already fatigued by several days of rapid marching. Close upon two o’clock the The Royalists’ cavalry on the left swept round, and charged upon the body of Parliamentarian troops located at what is now known as Battle Farm, where Essex had placed some of his artillery. They were repulsed with considerable loss. Prince Rupert’s charge along the right wing met with more success as it drove back Sir James Ramsay and the force under his command. But unhappily for the King the Prince rushed onwards towards Kineton with characteristic heedlessness to plunder the Parliamentarian baggage train, unmindful of the fact that his help was needed, as the Royalists were losing ground on other parts of the field. At this hour of the day, although the Parliamentary left was crumpled up and forced back, the right wing held its own, as did also the centre; and when Rupert returned from his impetuous pursuit, it was too late to retrieve his error of judgment. The enemy’s centre had not only stood firm but had advanced, forcing the Royalists to retreat. The arrival of John Hampden, with a body of troops who promptly opened fire upon the Prince’s horsemen, causing them to flee in great confusion, completed the disaster, Rupert himself having to throw away his hat and plumes lest they should offer a mark to the enemy’s musketeers. The Royal army was now indeed, for some considerable time, in imminent danger of a disastrous and Both armies suffered severely, almost equally so, states a contemporary account, but inasmuch as the Parliamentarians had held their ground and the Royalists had been compelled to retire from the assault, the advantage was with some justness claimed by the former. The number of killed was very large, but contemporary estimates are so contradictory that it is almost impossible to obtain figures of any exactness. Probably Sir William Dugdale, who, present during the engagement, afterwards went over the field and estimated the number of those actually slain to have been rather more than 1100, is approximately correct. Although the enclosures have altered the general appearance of the field of battle from that which it bore on that disastrous Sunday of October 23, 1642, the main lines can even nowadays be traced with considerable clearness and accuracy. And the “Sun Rising,” a fine, old stone house, has survived the course of the years, as has also the old Beacon Tower, at Burton Dassett, on the summit of which the first signal fire was kindled in the cresset by the Parliamentarians to send the news of the battle London–wards to the next station at Ivinghoe, some forty miles distant, and thence to Harrow–on–the–Hill. The months immediately succeeding the first struggle at Edge Hill saw some great happenings. Warwick had held out when called upon by Sir William Dugdale to surrender in the King’s name, though So far as Warwickshire’s part in the Civil War is concerned the most stirring and memorable event after the battle of Edge Hill was the attack upon and the destruction of a part of Birmingham by Prince Rupert on Easter Monday of the year 1643. Although many echoes of the struggle which was fiercely waged, and with varying fortune to the contending parties, up and down the country for a further period of two and a half years, reached Warwickshire, and although several severe engagements were fought in the neighbouring counties of Oxfordshire, Northamptonshire, and Berkshire, no very considerable fighting took place in Warwickshire itself after the burning of Birmingham. It was, however, so near the field of other actions that its peace was perpetually disturbed during the succeeding years, until the final crushing of the Royalist adherents at Naseby on June 14, 1645, and the surrender of the King to the Scots in the following year at Newark. Troops passed With the return of Charles II. in the early years of the Commonwealth, and during the brief campaign succeeding his invasion of England to assert his kingship, which ended so disastrously on “Cromwell’s day,” September 3, 1651, at the battle of Worcester, Warwickshire once more knew the presence of troops within its peaceful confines, and the hurrying to and fro along its lanes and by–ways of fugitive Royalists and armed pursuers. After the battle Charles, whilst escaping in disguise, in company with Miss Jane Lane, fled into Warwickshire, narrowly escaping capture by some of the Lord Protector’s men near Bearley Cross. It was in the kitchen of a house at Long Marston that the royal fugitive, to render his disguise more effective, took his turn at the kitchen spit! And Packington Old Hall also sheltered him and his companion during their flight. Warwickshire played no very prominent part in the history of the half century immediately succeeding the Restoration, and although the intervening years between the latter and the Napoleonic Wars saw many changes, the life of the county was on the whole placid and uneventful. Situated far inland, the wars of the closing years of the eighteenth and early years of the nineteenth century made little impression During the first quarter of the nineteenth century Warwick grew little, though remaining the county town; and even the anciently renowned city of Coventry had but an uneventful history, and progress chiefly remarkable for its development of the ribbon industry. Birmingham was as yet almost unthought of as a great industrial centre of population. The history of Warwickshire during the middle and latter years of the nineteenth century is chiefly industrial, although the period which has seen the rise of Birmingham has not been entirely without an underlying element of romance. The “hardware town” had from early times, as we have already pointed out, attracted many artisans, skilled workmen, and ingenious inventors to itself by reason of its freedom from corporate restrictions. And at the end of the eighteenth century it had commenced to grow and expand, not, of course, at first with the rapidity that was later on to mark its advance; but, nevertheless, with an expansion which was notable and also marked in the character of its industries. The gun and sword trades, which had existed at the time of the Civil War, grew steadily; and to these were added others connected with iron, steel, and brass, and in the days of Edmund Burke the rise of the jewellery trade, and that of other ornaments, had made it what he described as “the toy shop of Europe.” Indeed, the growth and progress of Birmingham Defeated in 1831, the measure was reintroduced in the following year, and was read a third time on the 19th of March, and on the 26th of the same month was sent up to the Lords. It passed its second reading, but there were grave fears that it would be thrown out at the third. An enormous gathering of the Birmingham Union on New Hall Hill, at which 200,000 people were stated to be present, took place in support of the Bill. In the petition to the House of Lords, sent by this great gathering, it was prayed that they would not mutilate the Bill, and that they “would not drive to despair a high–minded, a generous, and fearless people.” The news that the Bill was defeated and that Lord Grey had resigned stirred up the whole population—timid and fearless, enthusiasts and apathetics alike—whose anger and determination to see this measure become law were manifested in no uncertain way. Still treasured in some households are copies of the NOTICE. In the subsequent agitation for the repeal of the Corn Laws Birmingham also took its part, and in connection with this there was once more serious rioting. The political prominence of Birmingham, first earned in the reign of Charles I., has continued of steady growth, although its “great fame for hearty, wilful affected disloyalty” asserted by Clarendon happily no longer abides with it. Warwickshire, as we have stated, was in ancient times largely an agricultural county, and, indeed, may still be reckoned so. Its well–watered meads and pleasant valleys providing pasturage for cattle, and its rich soil being productive of excellent crops. The war, however, brought about a great change in the nature of its industries. The men were in large numbers called off the land to supply the needs of man power in the army; their places were taken by older men who were above military age, by boys, women, and girls of all ranks in society. The temporary growth in population of such towns as Coventry and Birmingham was another noticeable effect of the necessities of war. On the outskirts of the latter town temporary dwellings were erected in large numbers to accommodate the munitions workers drawn to Birmingham from all parts of the country, and in the case of the former town enormous building operations were undertaken to provide factories and to house the workers engaged in the same. Coventry in war time was a very different place to the town of even the period immediately preceding the outbreak of hostilities; and different from the city of to–day which has gradually tended to return to the normal. The development of the munitions industries in the county formed one of the most significant features of its life from the spring of 1915 to the autumn of 1918. Not only was the very face of the countryside greatly altered in many districts, but the very lives of the people underwent a radical though temporary change. Unfortunately industrial unrest, which immediately followed the armistice and extended into several of the succeeding years, prevented Warwickshire from making full use of the enormously increased facilities for output of manufactured articles for which the county has long been famous. Even factories which only needed conversion in comparatively unimportant details to fit them for the struggle to capture the world–trade that waited to be won by enterprise and hard work were left idle or were very imperfectly adapted to the needs of peaceful production. But that there is a great future for this county in the very heart of England when industry has learned its lesson, and enterprise is once more harnessed to the chariot wheels of commerce no one can doubt. To–day Warwickshire has largely recovered from the temporary dislocation of its life by war, and has returned to its more normal occupations and mode of living. Its war record, to be read in the gallant deeds of its fighting sons, and in the amazing work performed by its women, girls, lads, and older men, gives it a place of honour among the counties of central England, as its natural loveliness has given it one of compelling charm among the most beautiful. |