THE Plumpton family, of Plumpton, near Knaresborough, were established there from the period of the Domesday Book, when Edred de Plumpton held two carucates of land of William de Percy, the mesne lord. They had estates afterwards at other places—Idle, near Leeds, held of the Lacies; Steeton, near Tadcaster; Nesfield, near Otley, where they had a manor-house, and elsewhere. They were a family of considerable importance in Yorkshire, and were great benefactors to the Nunnery of Esholt, in Craven. They frequently make a conspicuous appearance in the various historical events of the centuries of their existence. Peter, son of Nigel, suffered confiscation of his lands for confederating with the Barons against King John; but, on submitting and doing fealty to Henry III., they were restored. Sir Robert, founder of a chapel in the church in Knaresborough, was beheaded at York, for participation in Scrope's rebellion against King Henry IV., in 1408. Sir William, who objected to the levying of tolls, at Otley and Ripley, by Archbishop Kemp, lay in wait for the tax-gatherers at Thornton Bridge, with a company of foresters. The officials, apprehending the meaning of the armed men by the bridge, turned aside to pass over the river by Brafferton Ford, but were followed by Sir William and his men, shouting, "Slay the Archbishop's carles, and would to God we had the Archbishop himself here." In the fray which ensued, several of the Archbishop's men were slain and wounded, and others taken prisoners. Robert, the last male representative of the family, died unmarried and intestate at Paris, in 1749, when the estates passed to his aunt, Anne, who, in 1760, sold them to Daniel Lascelles, for £28,000.

A volume entitled "The Plumpton Correspondence," consisting of family letters, chiefly of a domestic character, written in the reigns of Edward IV., Richard III., Henry VII., and Henry VIII., was published in 1869 by the Camden Society; edited by Thomas Stapleton, from Sir Edward Plumpton's "Book of Letters."

In the reign of Henry II., Gilbert de Plumpton, a youthful scion of the family, was living at Plumpton. As the Plumptons were then comparatively small land-owners, and as they had high aspirations, aiming at the knightly or baronial degree, it behoved them to improve their landed estates by prudent marriages with heiresses, and thus qualify themselves for a higher position in the county. Young Gilbert, then approaching manhood, therefore cast his eyes about him with that purpose. His range of vision was rather restricted, as people in those days, owing to the badness of the roads and other causes, rarely travelled far away from home, and were almost compelled to select their wives and husbands from amongst their neighbours, seldom going beyond the bounds of their native counties to enter into matrimonial alliances. Besides this, eligible heiresses were but few in number, and being under the guardianship of the King, or of some one appointed by him, whose consent was necessary for marriage, it being a serious offence to marry an heiress without such pre-consent, it became a difficult matter, even when an heiress was found and her affections secured, to consummate their reciprocal love by a conjugal union; especially as Kings were then wont to use their power over their fair wards in a very arbitrary and tyrannical fashion, by bestowing their hands and inheritances on their favourites, or in reward for some service, without the least consideration for the pleasure or will of the person most concerned—the lady herself.

About this time Roger de Guilevast, or, as he is sometimes called, Richard Wardwast, a wealthy land-owner, in the neighbourhood of Plumpton, died, and left his only daughter, Eleanor, heiress to his extensive possessions. This young lady, Gilbert had encountered when out with his hounds one day, some twelve months previously. He had been searching for game in the woodlands of the picturesque scenery which surrounds Plumpton, and had come to the lake, when he was startled by the sight of an exquisitely beautiful young girl wandering along the shore, and seemingly enjoying the beautiful prospect of land, water, and foliaged trees. He accosted her, and she readily entered into conversation with him, when he was as much struck by her wit and sensible remarks as he had previously been by her beauty. She informed him who she was, and who her father, and he imparted to her the same information respecting himself, and they discovered that, although they had never chanced to meet previously, they were well acquainted with each other's families. Gilbert therefore knew that if her father died without other issue his estates would descend to her as his heiress. Here he thought was the chance he had been hoping for; but as he was of a cautious, calculating disposition, he considered that her father, not yet aged, might still have a son, to whom the lands would pass, and leave her with nothing more than a slender marriage portion; and although he saw that she was beautiful and accomplished, and was just the wife whom he would choose if personal charms were the chief consideration, he could not, in justice to his family and his own aspirations, marry a dowerless maiden, and he resolved not to commit himself too far until he saw more as to the chance of her succession to the estates. Still he determined not to lose sight of her altogether, and that it would be well in the meantime to inspire her heart with the sentiment of love towards him, if it were possible to do so.

"Do you often walk in this direction?" he asked.

"Oh yes," she replied, "in the beautiful summer sunshine, when the trees are clad in their bright vestments of green, and the flowers are opening their petals and giving forth perfume from every bank; when the birds are singing joyfully overhead, and the hum of the bees and other insects add a pleasing undertone to their louder carolling—I love to wander alone with Nature for my companion. And you! Do you care to commune with Nature? or only feel a pleasure in going forth in the forest lands and pastures, to destroy the innocent and beautiful creatures who enjoy their existence as much as you do yourself?" And so saying, she pointed interrogatively at his dogs, which were barking and sniffing about among the bushes.

"Oh!" answered he, "believe not that my sole delight is in the chase. Nature has sent certain animals into the world to supply us with food, and it is right to deprive them of life before placing them on the table; nor do I think it wrong to destroy noxious animals, such as wolves and foxes, and it is only on such that I wage war; nothing do I kill out of wanton sport. I experience pleasure in the sight of the rising and the setting sun, I can look with delight on the glories of a landscape, such as that which is spread around us, and witness with a thrill of sublime awe the warring of the elements in a tempest."

Thus they conversed for some time, mutually interested in each other's conversation, and before parting arranged to meet at set times near the huge rock which rises out of the water and stretches for a length of fifty feet, and which still attracts thousands of tourists to wonder at and admire it.

Many times did they meet there, and their love ripened at each interview, Gilbert almost forgetting the demands of his family for heiresses, and almost resolving to seek her hand, even in case of a brother coming to claim the inheritance; but some six months afterwards, Eleanor's father "went the way of all flesh," and she became really an heiress, when Gilbert commenced making love to her in real earnest, his own private inclinations coinciding now with what was due to his consideration of the interests of his family.

At this time Ranulph de Glanville was resident in Yorkshire, as Lord of Coverdale, having acquired the estates there by his marriage with Bertha, daughter of Theobald de Valvins, Lord of Parham. He was the greatest legal luminary of his age, and eminent, besides, as a statesman and warrior; was Judge-itinerant in Yorkshire and thirteen other counties, and in 1186 was promoted to the dignity of Chief-Justice of England; he was also Sheriff of Yorkshire and some other counties, and was employed extensively in State affairs. When King Henry II. was in France, King William of Scotland invaded Northumberland, in 1174, and Glanville, as Sheriff of Yorkshire, raised an army of Yorkshiremen, marched against him, defeated him in a battle, and took him prisoner, lodging him in Richmond Castle. News of the victory reached the King after his memorable penance at the tomb of Thomas a Becket, and, instead of attributing it to the skill of Glanville and the bravery of his followers, ascribed it to St. Thomas, as a reward for his penitential humiliation at his shrine. In his latter days he founded an abbey and a priory in his native county of Suffolk; in 1189 he accompanied King Richard in his crusade to Palestine, and is said to have been slain at the siege of Acre.

As Sheriff of the county of York, he was the representative of the King, and, of course, in the matter of the guardianship of heiresses and the disposal of their hands and inheritances. When intelligence reached him of the death of Roger de Guilevast without issue male, it occurred to him that it would be a good opportunity for rewarding one, Reiner, a favourite dependant of his, whom he wished to advance in life. Reiner is mentioned in the Plump. Cartul., 1002, as Sheriff of Yorkshire, but as Glanville himself was then Sheriff, he would probably be Deputy-Sheriff. He therefore proposed to bestow the heiress and her estates upon Reiner, and gave instructions to that effect.

The lovers, for plighted lovers they had become when Eleanor received an intimation that she was to give her hand to Reiner, resolved upon a bold step, no less than that of defying the King and his Sheriff by a clandestine marriage. Gilbert was on terms of great intimacy with the Spofforths of Spofforth, a township adjoining that of Plumpton, an ancient Saxon family, one of whom, Thomas, early in the fifteenth century, became Abbot of St. Mary's, York, and, in 1422, was elected Bishop of Rochester, but, before installation, was constituted Bishop of Hereford by Papal provision. One of the family was a priest and the close friend of Gilbert, and he undertook to risk the performance of the ceremony, which was carried out in private, and Gilbert took his bride home, and for a week or more enjoyed the usual connubial felicity of the honeymoon period.

A loud knocking at the gates of the Plumpton Manor House one morning startled the inmates and aroused the fears of the newly married couple, who were apprehensive of the vengeance of the Sheriff. At first they thought of flight; but where to go? Nowhere in the realm would they be safe against the power of the King, so they were compelled perforce to abide the issue. When the gates were opened, a body of men in the livery of the Sheriff presented themselves, the leader of whom said, "In the name of the King, and by the authority of his Sheriff, Ranulph de Glanville, I demand to be delivered up to me the bodies of Gilbert de Plumpton and of Eleanor de Guilevast, a ward of the Crown, who has been treacherously carried off from her home by the said Gilbert, in violation of the laws of the realm, and in traitorous contempt of the King's authority."

At this juncture Gilbert presented himself with his wife leaning on his arm, and demanded what they meant by such intrusion and insolent language, adding that he was no traitor and no contemner of the laws of the kingdom, but one of the King's most faithful subjects.

"We come not," was the reply, "to bandy words with you, or decide the question at issue; our instructions are to convey you to York, where the Sheriff will determine what further shall be done in the matter, and who will listen to any objections you may be pleased to urge in respect of your apprehension as a violator of the law."

Seeing that there was no use in resisting, Gilbert said, "Then I will accompany you to York," and gave directions for his horse to be saddled. "But," he continued, "I trust it is not necessary to submit this lady, my wife, to the indignity; I suppose she may remain here until I have vindicated my innocence, and can return to her."

"That cannot be," replied the leader, "my instructions are to bring you and the lady, and loth as I am to appear discourteous to a lady, I must insist on her accompanying us."

"I am ready to go," said Eleanor; "rather would I go to face any perils, in your company, than be left behind with all the anxieties and uncertainties as to what is befalling you."

Another horse was then brought from the stables for her accommodation, and the party rode together to York. They were placed in the custody of the Sheriff's officers, but not in prison, and a few days after were brought before the Sheriff. He interrogated Gilbert with great severity, who acknowledged the marriage, and the lady with more courtesy, who replied with modesty, pleading that she was not aware that marrying the man to whom she had given her heart could be a matter of offence to the King, adding that, so far as she knew, even a milkmaid or a peasant girl was at liberty to marry whom she chose. The Sheriff explained that she was very different from a peasant girl, who was a mere serf, and that it mattered not whom she married, but that she was an inheritor of a portion of the land of England, the whole of which belonged to the King, and that such being the case, it was necessary for the welfare of the realm that he should have in his hand the disposal of such heiresses in marriage, so that their estates should not fall into the hands of unworthy persons. "I can understand," he continued, "that you, a simple maiden, should be ignorant of this essential feature of the constitution of the realm, and being so, are entitled rather to compassion than blame for having been inveigled into this unlawful marriage, which, in the eye of the law, is no marriage at all, but concubinage. As for you, sir," addressing himself to Gilbert, "you are supposed to be cognisant of the laws of the land, and have been guilty of a gross crime and misdemeanour, which may lead to serious consequences. It will be necessary for me to lay the matter before the King's grace, and bring you before his tribunal of justice, so that he may deal with you as he deems fitting, and rest assured, it will go well with you if you escape with your life. As for your wife, as you call her, it is probable you will never more see her; but she will be well cared for, if that be any consolation to you, and shall be provided with a suitable and worthy husband." On hearing this announcement, Eleanor uttered a piercing shriek, and fell fainting to the floor. She was carried away into an adjoining apartment, whilst her husband, betraying signs of deep agitation, attempted to speak, but was prevented doing so by direction of the Judge.

What followed may be told in the words of the Plumpton MS.:—In the year 1184, while the King (Henry II.) was sojourning at Worcester with his army, with intent to make war with Rhys-ap-Griffin, a certain youth was brought there in fetters, sprung of noble lineage, and whose name was Gilbert de Plumpton, whom Ranulph de Glanville, the King's justiciary, had in odium, and sought to put to death, laying to his charge that he had ravished a certain maiden in the King's gift, the daughter of Roger de Guilevast, and kept her to him as his wife, and that, in the night-time, he broke through six doors in the abode of the girl's father, and took a hunting-horn and a headstall, etc., along with the said maiden. He added, moreover, that all these things he carried off by theft and robbery, and upon the issue he offered to abide the law. But Ranulph de Glanville, wishing to make away with him, because he designed to give the same maiden (whom the said Gilbert had already known after their espousals) to Reiner, Sheriff of Yorkshire, with her father's inheritance, further exhorted those who were to try Gilbert to adjudge him to death; and so it was done, for they sentenced him to be hanged, and whilst he was being led to the gibbet, intelligence was brought of the proceedings in his case to Baldwin, Bishop of the same city of Worcester. The which Bishop, though in great grief for the condemnation of the youth, was, however, exhorted by his attendants to rescue him from death. They said that he could legally do this, because it was a Sunday the same day, and upon it the Feast of Blessed Mary Magdalen. The Bishop (who was a meek and good man) acquiesced in their arguments, and having mounted on horseback, quickly rode after the executioners, who were leading the youth to the gibbet, and had now arrived at the place. Already was the youth, with his hands bound behind his back, and with a green band covering his eyes, and an iron chain round his neck—the executioners being on the point of hoisting the youth up as the Bishop arrived with a multitude of people.

Having alighted from his horse, and running up, he stationed himself by the side of the prisoner, thus exclaiming and saying, "I forbid you, on the part of God and the blessed Mary Magdalen, and under sentence of excommunication, to hang this man on this day; because today is the day of our Lord and the feast of the blessed Mary Magdalen. Wherefore it is not lawful for you to contaminate the day."

The executioners replied, "Who are you, and what madness prompts you that you have the audacity to impede the execution of the King's justice?" But the Bishop, with no less firmness of heart than of speech, rejoins, "Not madness, but the clemency of heavenly pity, urges me; nor do I desire to impede the King's justice, but to warn against an unwary act, lest by the contamination of a solemn day, you and the King incur the wrath of the Eternal God."

After some altercation, divine authority at length prevailed; and at the entreaty of the Bishop, he who was bound was unloosed; nevertheless he was delivered over to the keeper of the King's castle in safe custody, and in the morning to be led again to execution. But the Lord Almighty, who never deserts those who hope in Him, granted longer span of life to the said Gilbert. For when all these matters were reported to King Henry, he sent his messengers in the greatest haste to the castle with orders that the youth should not be hanged.

This story is deemed apochryphal by some authorities as being utterly inconsistent with the mild, beneficent, and just character of the Justiciary. Foss, who refers to it as a dereliction from the path of judicial integrity, says—

"Presuming the story to be true, the Chief Justiciary's merit must have been great indeed to induce the King to pardon so monstrous a perversion of justice," adding, "some doubt, however, cannot but be attached to the relation, not merely from its extravagant ferocity and the impunity of its perpetrators, but from the assertion of the work which bears Glanville's name, who says—'None of the Judges have so hardened a front, or so rash a presumption, as to dare to deviate, however slightly, from the path of justice, or utter a sentence in any measure contrary to the truth.' It is scarcely possible to suppose that a King so just as Henry II. would have overlooked the guilt of the Judge, or have visited the innocence of the accused with imprisonment."

On the other side, Roger de Hoveden relates the story with some circumstantiality, under the date of 1184, who was not only a contemporary, but was a native of Howden, not many miles distant from Plumpton. He adds further, that "The Knight (Gilbert) being rescued from death, was kept in prison by Ranulph de Glanville until the King's death (1189)." In the Annals of the Exchequer also, we find given the expenses of conveying Gilbert de Plumpton from York to Worcester, on this occasion.

What became of Gilbert and Eleanor afterwards is not recorded, or mentioned in the tradition, but we may hope that after his release on the accession of Richard I., they were reunited, and that their oppressor, having died the following year, they were enabled to pass the remainder of their lives in tranquility and happiness.