Edward VI, Part Four

Warfare abroad was mirrored by conflict at home. England was subject to social unrest and riots throughout 1548, and in the spring of 1549 the growing discontent overflowed into outright revolts. Though a number of rebellions took place, two stand out: the Prayer Book Rebellion (in reaction to the imposition of Protestantism in pro-Catholic English territories) and Kett’s Rebellion (in reaction to the encroachment of landlords on common grazing ground, a practice that threatened the livelihoods of poorer folk). 

In the late 1540s, at the behest of Edward VI, Somerset introduced a swathe of legislative measures to advance the Reformation in England and Wales. These rulings sought to change theology and practice, particularly in geographical areas of traditionally Catholic loyalty. Traditional religious processions and pilgrimages were banned, and royal commissioners were dispatched to remove all symbols of Catholicism. In pro-Catholic Cornwall, the common-folk viewed the commissioner’s actions as desecration of religious shrines, and he was murdered in April 1548. The government responded to the murder by executing twenty-eight Cornishmen at Launceston Castle. The pro-Catholic priest of St. Keverne was taken to London, and after execution his head was impaled on a staff erected upon London Bridge. The next year the Act of Uniformity made it illegal to use Latin liturgical rites, and the English Prayer Book became the only liturgy available for use. Magistrates were tasked with enforcing the change. In Devon, parishioners compelled their priest to defy the ruling; the ‘pious rebels’ argued that the new English liturgy was ‘but like a Christmas game,’ a smart remark on how the prayer book instructed men and women to file down the quire on different sides to receive the sacrament, which resembled cultural practices of country dancing. Word of the parishioners’ refusal to abide by the new law brought justices to the next service to enforce the change. Tensions boiled high and a scuffle broke out between the congregants and the justices, and a proponent of the change was run through with a pitchfork on the steps of the church house.

Slightly after the mortal spilling of blood on the church steps, a group of parishioners decided to march to Exeter to protest the new prayer book. As the rebels moved through Devon they gained a motley host of Catholic supporters. The ragtag rebels turned into a peasant army composed of militiamen sprinkled with farmers, fishermen, and tin miners. Though the rebellion was ostensibly spawned by religious concerns, historians – both contemporary and modern – have advocated the idea that there was a social impetus as well. The rebels embraced a slogan that implied both religious and social concerns: ‘Kill all the gentlemen and we will have the Six Articles up again, and ceremonies as they were in King Henry’s time!’ In the social sphere, the rebels would demand a limitation on the size of gentry households; it’s no small wonder that Thomas Cranmer condemned the rebels for inciting class conflict, saying that they wanted ‘to diminish [the gentry’s] strength and to take away their friends, that [they] might command gentlemen at [their] pleasure.’ He seethed that the rebels had ‘conceived a wonderful hate against the gentlemen and take them all as their enemies.’ The gentry of Devon and Cornwall noted this, as well, and they sought protection in old castles – and it was good that they did. As the rebels marched, they laid waste to the lands of the gentry and preached violence against gentlemen. A number of high-ranking gentry sought shelter in St. Michael’s Mount where they were besieged by the rebels, who coerced them to surrender. Sir Richard Grenville hid in the ruins of Trematon Castle; abandoned by most of his supporters, he was seized and the castle ransacked; he was imprisoned with his few remaining supporters in the Launceston jail. 

News of the violent peasant march worried Somerset, who ordered one of the Privy Councilors to ‘pacify’ the rebels. Lord John Russell was ordered to gather an army and impose a ‘military solution’ upon the peasant army. Russell did as he was ordered, and after the rebels passed Plymouth, two knights of Devon were sent to negotiate an end to the uprising. They went to meet the rebels at Crediton, but they found the approaches blocked and were attacked by longbowmen who scattered the knights and their entourage. The rebel host then split, one force moving to Clyst St. Mary to assist the villagers and another, numbering close to two thousand, bent upon occupying fortified Exeter. Upon reaching the walled city, they demanded that the gates be opened; though several people of Exeter extended sympathies to the rebels, the gates remained closed. Exeter’s mayor, despite being pro-Catholic, refused to surrender the town; thus the rebels had no option but to besiege the city, and they would be encamped around it for five weeks. Russell’s army reached Honiton on 2 July; his army composed one hundred sixty Italian arquebusiers and a thousand German foot soldiers. He was promised reinforcements that would bring him close to nine thousand men, not including eight hundred fifty cavalry. Spies reported that the rebel army, which had split before a detachment marched on Exeter, numbered seven thousand – and these were mostly peasants, who would be no match for Russell’s well-trained, well-equipped force. Russell moved to relieve Exeter, but the rebels blocked his approach at Fenny Bridges. A small skirmish erupted; both sides lost about three hundred men in the Battle of Fenny Bridges, and Russell’s army returned to Honiton to await reinforcements. These reinforcements arrived at the beginning of August; his numbers weren’t quite what he’d hoped for (he had about five thousand men), but he believed he had the upper-hand against the rebels. They marched towards Exeter once more, this time going westward across the downs. His army pitched camp at Woodbury Common, and on 4 August the rebels, led by the Catholic Sir Humphrey Arundell, attacked at the Battle of Woodbury Common. The result was inconclusive, though Russell managed to secure many prisoners. The rebels regrouped at Clyst St. Mary, where they were attacked on 5 August by a force led by Sir William Francis. 

English soldiers during the Prayer Book Rebellion

The Battle of Clyst St. Mary was a brutal affair in which the royal forces routed the rebels, who left a thousand dead and many more taken prisoner. Russell, his blood up and wishing to make an example of the captured rebels, had nine hundred prisoners bound and gagged; according to the chronicler John Hayward, he then proceeded – in a brief span of ten minutes – to cut every prisoner’s throat. The scattered rebels regrouped, and upon hearing of the massacre, they steeled themselves for vengeance. The next day they launched a vengeful attack on the encamped soldiers. The Battle of Clyst Heath didn’t accomplish what the rebels intended; two thousand more men died before the rebels broke and fled. A group of rebels were pursued up the valley of the Exe, where they were overtaken by a Devon knight loyal to the crown. The knight, Sir Gawen Carew, left the corpses of the rebels’ slain leaders hanging on gibbets from Dunster to Bath. Russell, having swept away the rebels at St. Clyst, continued on to Exeter. The rebels besieging the town fled and the city welcomed their rescuers. The English government ordered the lands of those involved in the uprising confiscated, and Arundell’s estates went to Sir Gawen Carew. Russell, bathing in the adoration and thanks of Exeter’s citizens, and with numerous victories under his belt, thought the rebellion was over – but then he received news that Arundell’s army was regrouping at Sampford Courtenay. Russell’s men were strengthened with reinforcements and now numbered more than eight thousand. Russell moved to meet the persistent rebels and engaged them at the Battle of Sampford Courtenay. John Hooker, a contemporary historian based out of Exeter, reported that ‘the Cornish [rebels] would not give in until most of their number had been slain or captured.’ Russell reported that his force had killed between five and six hundred rebels, and after the rebels broke, his pursuit claimed a further seven hundred kills. Arundell managed to escape the carnage and fled to Launceston; he was later captured and taken in chains to London. Fifty-five hundred people had lost their lives in the rebellion, and it had all come to naught – and it still wasn’t over. Arundell, imprisoned in the Tower, was horrified to learn that Somerset and Archbishop Cranmer authorized court-sanctioned reprisals against those who had participated in the rebellion. English and mercenary forces cut a swathe through Devon and Cornwall, executing and killing a number of rebel refugees before the Prayer Book Rebellion became a thing of the past. In November 1549 Arundell was taken to Westminster Hall and found guilty of high treason and condemned; he was taken back to the Tower before being hanged, drawn and quartered on 27 January 1550. His estates, and those of his ringleaders, were divvied among the nobles who had served the king in quelling (and punishing) the uprising.