Sir Lewis - Our Local Swashbuckling Hero (1 April 1978)

I suppose one of the most popular pictures ever painted is “The Laughing Cavalier,” by Franz Hals.  There he is, in all his finery, the archetype of his kind; hale and hearty, bold and brave, dashing and debonair, full of sauce and swagger, ready to die for his king, whom he equates with his country, and likely to be willing to protect every woman against every man except himself.

Whenever I see that picture I am reminded of one of my numerous girl cousins, who was some years older than myself.  By winning a competition she could choose one of a number of popular paintings.  She chose “The Laughing Cavalier” and stuck him on her bedroom wall much as girls do with pop idols today.  But next morning she tore him down.  Asked why, she said: “Because his eyes follow me wherever I go and it’s embarrassing when I’m undressing!”

Hals’s cavalier was probably a Dutchman.  But there were cavalier types all over Europe in those days and not least in this country.  Here they were the current version of the knights and esquires of the middle ages, some being wealthy enough to raise and maintain a troop of horsemen out of their own pockets.

A fairly local representative was Sir Lewis Dyve, of Bromham Hall, Bedford, who lived over the turbulent period of 1599 to 1660.  His father, Sir John, had been knighted when James 1 visited Salden House, near Mursley, in 1603, the year that monarch ascended the throne.  Sir Lewis’s own knighthood was conferred by the same king at Whitehall in 1620.

A curious story survives about Sir Lewis’s early swashbuckling days.  It seems that he spent some time in Spain, during which he and two companions got into trouble for paying too much attention to the Spanish ladies.  It was around that time that the future King Charles 1 of England went a-wooing the Spanish Infanta, accompanied by the Duke of Buckingham, and was snubbed for his pains, but I know not whether our three cavaliers were on the same general mission.

At all the events, they incurred the wrath of several gentlemen of Madrid, who took exception to the fact that the Englishmen were spending a pleasant evening listening to a Spanish lady who was “harmonising with lute and voice” – and maybe with her eyes too.

Evidently the principle that all is fair in love and war did not impress the Spaniards, for they attached the trio, one of them declaring that this was designed to “let the rest of thy luxurious countrymen learn to shun those gentlewomen where other men have interest.”

One of the trio was Sir Kenelm Digby, son of the Digby who had been executed for his part in the Gunpower Plot.  According to a letter written by him, the attackers comprised 15 men, dressed in coats of mail and with drawn swords.

Sir Kenelm did not minimise his own valour.  What cavalier ever did minimise personal prowess of any kind?  But he did disclose that Sir Lewis might not have been altogether guiltless in arousing the jealousy of one of the Spanish lady’s ennobled countrymen.  At any rate, our three heroes apparently found their way out in true cinematic style against the unlikely odds of five to one.

Later on, Sir Lewis became a notable figure in the Civil War.  Entering Bedford in July, 1642, he had 500 bullets case and announced: “Now, you Roundheads, I have provide for you.”  Sir Samuel Luke, with the mayor and other justices, heard reports of this incident with some agitation.  An attempt was made to arrest Sir Lewis, but he defended himself with a pistol and got away.

The story of the Civil War is one of much sparring and shadow boxing, but of few pitched battles.  Primarily, the conflict was between King and Parliament, but like many other wars before and since, it had strong religious connotations.  The king’s cavaliers could not stand the sight of the Puritans on the other side and vice-versa.

During the first part of the war the more practised royalists gave as good as they got, but without being able to capture London. For the second part Cromwell had disciplined and trained his “Model Army,” and they beat the flashier cavaliers out of sight in the decisive battles of Naseby and Marston Moor.

At one stage in the war Sir Lewis captured Newport Pagnell for the king and strengthened it, but then unaccountably abandoned it.  It is supposed this was due to a mistake in the transmission of the king’s orders.  But whatever the cause, it allowed Sergeant Major General Skippon to advance from Dunstable and secure Newport for parliament.