I. gave the Castle to Benjamin Tichborne—a name recalling a recent contest; and Charles II. demolished most of it for the construction of his more luxurious palace.
“In Edward the First’s reign the Bishop of St. Andrews though only a prisoner of war who had opposed the King in Scotland, was confined here in irons. It was then the rule rather than the exception for such prisoners to be chained. A Parliament was held here by Isabella and Mortimer, and a cruel scene then followed the incarceration of Edmund of Woodstock. He was brought out in front of the main entrance to the Castle (through the city wall) to be executed. There he was kept “from morn till dewy eve” in a state of painful suspense, for, to the credit of all, no one would be induced to do the cruel deed. At last a prisoner, to save his own life, decapitated him.”
“I have often wondered,” observed Mr. Hertford, “how any one could be induced to perform this odious office against the lives of celebrated men. We know the difficulty there was in the case of Charles I., how disguises were used and what suspicions there were as to who were the two executioners.”
“We have another sensational scene here,” I proceeded, “before the time of Charles. When James I. came to the throne the Castle Green was again reddened with blood. Eleven persons, among them Raleigh, were tried for conspiring against the King and State. Several were condemned, as were Lord Grey de Wilton and Lord Cobham, who were tried in this hall.
“I can see,” I said, “two men pacing up and down here in great mental perturbation. Three have already suffered on the Green, and Markham and Lord Grey, having been led forth in all the pomp of woe to execution, have been respited for a couple of hours and turned into ‘Arthur’s Hall,’ to gain what cold comfort they can from it. Then Cobham was led forth, and Markham and Grey were brought out to meet him. Reprieves were given—a great shout from the assembled multitude rent the air—and the pardoned looked at each other and felt as if they were alive from the dead. Raleigh saw all this performance from his prison, and was agreeably surprised to hear that he also was not to be executed. The Court was in the Castle during this sensational period, and the ladies were amusing themselves with small games such as ‘Rise pig and go,’ and ‘One penny follow me.’ Lady Arabella Stuart was with them in whose behalf the conspiracy was said to have been formed.”[26]
Cruel Sentence.
We now come to what happened here at the end of the Civil War, when Charles was within Carisbrooke Castle, in the Isle of Wight. When the Commissioners left, Hammond, who was in charge of him, dismissed all the royal attendants. This became known in the neighbourhood, where the people were Royalists, and caused great indignation. Thereupon a Captain Burleigh, a man of good family in the island, who had been captain of one of the King’s ships and afterwards a general of ordnance in the army, had a drum beaten in Newport, and called upon the people to take arms and storm the Castle. It was a rash and childish project, and sensible people held aloof from it. Burleigh probably thought that he could not be much punished, and no one had yet suffered for treason in supporting the King. But the Parliament took a new departure. Hammond arrested him, and sent him a prisoner to Winchester Castle, and soon a ferocious judge, whose name was Wild, was sent down to condemn him. Sentence in the usual form was passed, and the unfortunate man sentenced to be hanged and quartered here.
Shortly afterwards Charles himself passed a night here on his road from Hurst Castle to Windsor, whence he took his last journey to London. Many of the gentry and others came to meet him, and the Mayor and Corporation prepared an address; but Lieutenant Cobbett warned them, and having fresh in their memories the tragic end of poor Burleigh, they desisted and craved forgiveness.
Surrender of the Castle.
At no period in its history did the Castle occupy so conspicuous a position as during the Civil War. From 1642 to 1645, there was frequently a conflict raging here between the red scarf and the buff. In the first-named year it was in the neglected state into which it had gradually fallen, and the Cavaliers who took refuge in it, found it an inadequate place of safety, as there were no cannon on its walls and Waller’s troops “beset them with musqueteers and Horse, and lay perdues under the wall so that not a man of them could stir.” At eleven at night the Cavaliers sounded for a parley—in vain—and the besiegers next morning, lacking artillery and petards, prepared a quantity of faggots and tar barrels to burn the Castle gate. Then negotiations commenced, and it was agreed that Lord Grandison should surrender the Castle with all arms, horses, and money, the garrison being granted their lives. A scandalous scene of pillage ensued, contrary to conditions. The men were stripped of their clothes “four or five pulling at one cloak like hounds at the leg of a dead horse,” and the officers were robbed of their purses. Waller left Lord Grandison and some prisoners in the Castle, under a small guard, but he found means to escape to the King at Oxford, and suggested to Sir William Ogle that he should try to rescue the prisoners. Sir Richard Tichborne assisted, and in three days they were in possession both of the Castle and of the arms and ammunition of the enemy. Sir William now strengthened the Castle, and made it “as inaccessible as art could invent,” considering it the key to the whole Western country. He was assisted by the Mayor and citizens, and put the defences of the city into a better state than they had been for years. Soon afterwards the Royalist Western army of 3,000 Foot and 1,500 Horse entered the town under Lord Hopton. Winchester was generally a loyal town, but there were some weak-kneed people there, who replied to the King that “they could not be justly blamed for endeavouring to secure their lives and to keep their wives and daughters from rapine and destruction.”
After the city had been three times plundered by Waller it again held out for the King, and was finally taken by Cromwell at the end of September, 1645. He advanced against it with three regiments of infantry and 2000 cavalry. This strong force and the memory of past defeats caused the resistance to be half-hearted—indeed, the Mayor said he would try to bring about a capitulation. After the gate was fired, the Roundheads entered and the Royalists fled to the Castle, which was soon surrounded. Mines and batteries were immediately commenced. “We have cooped up in the Castle 120 Horse and 400 Foot, and all the malignant gentry and clergy of this Hampshire and Sussex, with many Papists and Jesuits.” Doctor Curle, the Bishop of Winchester, remained firm to the King on this trying occasion, and suffered accordingly. Cromwell gave him permission to leave the city, but he refused to accept it, and went into the Castle with the soldiers. But next day, Thursday, when the batteries were placed opposite the walls, the Bishop thought he would as soon be somewhere else, and sent to Cromwell to say he would accept his offer. This advance was refused, and he was told he would be treated as any other prisoner of war.
Attack by Cromwell.
On Friday the battery of six guns was perfected, and on Saturday it began to play. Lord Ogle hoisted a red flag of defiance. Notwithstanding Cromwell’s Puritan views, he did not make Sunday a day of rest, nor did he keep it holy, though he intermingled prayer and preaching with battering—firing altogether two hundred cannon balls in the day. The Royalists replied; sometimes firing into the High Street, which became unsafe for passengers, and at one time making a sally and beating the Roundheads from their guns for the moment. But the storm proved too severe, the red flag was carried away by a shot, and granadoes did great execution—one breaking through into the hall and killing three men.[27] A wide breach was made near the “Black Tower” and the Royalists called out “A parley, a parley for God’s sake! Let us have articles! Will you not hear us for a parley?”
We might have expected a more stubborn defence, for the Castle was strongly fortified. If the besiegers had entered the breach they would have had six distinct works and a drawbridge to pass over. Moreover victuals were abundant.
Cromwell now wrote the following unctuous letter to Fairfax:—
“Sir—This
