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Full text of "The history of England from the invasion of Julius Caesar to the abdication of James the Second, 1688"

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CONTENTS 
OF THE THIRD VOLUME. 



CHAPTE R XXI V 

HENRY VII. 

« a- mi 

14H5. Accession of Henry VII., 1 

His Title to the Crown, J 

His Prejudice against the House of York, 4 

His joyful Reception in London, 5 

Sweating Sickness, 6 

The King's Coronation, 7 

A Parliament. 7 

Entail of the Crown, 8 

The King's Title confirmed by the Pope. 9 

His Marriage, 11 

An Insurrection. 12 

Discontents of the People, 13 

Lambert Simnel, 14 

Revolt of Ireland, 15 

The Queen Dowager seized and confined m a Nunnery, 15 

Intrigues of the Duchess of Burgundy, 17 

? 4S7. Lambert Simnel invades England, IT 

Battle of Stoke, 18 



CHAPTER XXV. 

1488 State of foreign Affairs, 30 

State of Scotland 29 






W 



IT CONTENTS 

a. d rial 

1488. State of Spain, 21 

State of the Low Countries, 2i 

State of France, 21 

State of Brittany, 22 

The Duke of Orleans flies to Brittany, 22 

French Invasion of Brittany, 23 

French Embassy to England, 24 

Cautious Conduct of Henry, 25 

Dissimulation of the French Court, 26 

The Bretons defeated at St. Aubin, 27 

An Insurrection in the North, 28 

Suppressed, 29 

1489. The King sends Forces into Brittany, 30 

1491. Annexation of Brittany to France, 33 

A Parliament, 34 

1 492. War with France, 35 

Invasion of France. 36 

Peace with France, 36 

Perkin Warbec, 38 

His Imposture, 38 

He is avowed by the Duchess of Burgundy, 40 

493. He is avowed by many of the English Nobility, 4 ") 

Tbe King's prudent Conduct, 41 

495. Trial and Execution of Stanley, 43 

Perkin approaches the Coast of Kent, and is repulsed, . . 45 

A Parliament ; some remarkable Laws enacted, 45 

French Invasion of Italy, 47 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

1495. Perkin retires to Scotland, 49 

1 496. Subsidy granted by Parliament, 50 

1497 Insurrection in Cornwall, 51 

The Insurgents encamp near London, 52 

Battle of Blackheath > 53 

Truce with Scotland, 55 

Perkin excites a Rebellion in Cornwall, 55 

Is taken Prisoner. 57 

J 4sm Is executed, 5C 



CONTENTS. f 

». d pass 

The Earl of Warwick executed, .... , . 59 

Henry's Friendship is courted by foreign Powers, 59 

1501. Marriage of Prince Arthur with Catherine of Arragon, . 60 
Marriage of the Princess Margaret with the King of Sect- 
land, 61 

1503. Death of the Queen, 61 

Oppressions of the People, 61 

1504. A Parliament, 63 

1506. Arrival of the King of Castile, 64 

Intrigues of the Earl of Suffolk, 65 

1 508. Sickness of the King, 67 

1509. His Death and Character, 67 

His Laws, 69 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

HENRY Vin. 

Id09. Popularity of the new King, 78 

His Ministers, 79 

Punishment of Empson and Dudley, 80 

The King's Marriage, 81 

Foreign Affairs, 82 

Julius II., 83 

League of Cambray, 83 

1 51 1. A general Council summoned at PisR, , 84 

1512, War with France, 86 

Expedition to Fontarabia, 86 

Deceit of Ferdinand, 88 

Return of the English, 88 

151 S The French lose their Italian Conquests, 90 

LeoX., 90 

A Parliament, 90 

War with Scotland, 91 

Wolsey, Minister, 92 

His Character, 94 

Naval Enterprise near Brest, 95 

Invasion of Fiance, 97 

Battle ff Guinejjate — 9S 



n CONTENTS. 

4. D PA61 

Tournay taken by the English, 9ft 

Battle of Flouden, 101 

Peace with Scotland, 102 

514. Henry displeased with Ferdinand and Maximilian,. . . . 10'd 

Peace with France 104 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

HENRY VIII. 

51 J. Wolsey's Administration, 1117 

He is created a Cardinal, 107 

Lives in great Splendor, 1 OS 

Is appointed Chancellor, 108 

Scotch Affairs, 109 

Duke of Albany assumes the Regency, 110 

Disorderly State of Scotland, 110 

Lord Hume and his Brother executed, Ill 

Progress of Francis I., 113 

Battle of Marignan, 113 

Jealousy of Henry, 113 

He excites Opposition to the French in Italy, ! 14 

1516. Death of Ferdinand and Succession of Charles, fla 

Francis pays Court to Wolsey, 115 

1518. Tournay ceded to France, 116 

Wolsey appointed Legate, 117 

His Manner of exercising that Office, 1 IS 

1519. Death of the Emperor Maximilian, 119 

Charl "S, King of Spain, chosen Emperor, 1 2C 

The Characters of Charles and Francis contrasted, .... 12C 

1520. Francis solicits an interview with Henry, 121 

The Emperor Charles arrives in England, 12S 

Francis and Henry meet near Calais, 1 22 

Friendly Intercourse of the two Monarchs, 123 

521 War between Charles and Francis, 1 25 

Mediation of Henry, \ 25 

Condemnation and Execution of the Duke of Bucking- 
ham I 2fi 



C0NTENT8. TU 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

A- 9 PAG* 

1521 . Digression concerning the ecclesiastical State, 128 

Imperfections of the Catholic Establishment, 129 

Origin of the Reformation, 130 

Sale of Indulgences, 131 

Martin Luther, 132 

Henry receives the Title of " Defender of the Faith," . . 133 

Causes of the Progress of the Reformation, 133 

Death of Leo X. and Election of Adrian, 135 

1522 The Emperor again visits England, < 136 

War with France, 136 

Invasion of France, 137 

War with Scotland, 138 

•523 Surrey leads an Army into Scotland, 138 

A Parliament ; a Supply granted, 141 

Death of Adrian and Election of Clement VII., • 142 

Wolsey appointed Legate for Life, 142 

He erects Colleges at Oxford and Ipswich, 142 

Invasion of France, 14 3 

Italian Wars, I4li 

1524 The French expelled from Italy, 147 

Chimerical Scheme for the Conquest of France, 147 

The King of France invades Italy, 148 

1525. Battle of Pavia, and Captivity of Francis, 149 

Henry embraces the Alliance of France, 150 

He engages to procure the French King's Liberty, .... 152 

He levies Money by his Prerogative, 152 

Discontents of the People, 152 

Wolsey, by his Extortions, offends the King, 151 

He makes him a Present of Hampton-Court Palace, ... 151 

Francis removed to Madrid, 155 

♦526. Treaty between the Emperor and French King, 155 

Francis recovers his Liberty, 167 

Confederacy against the Emperor, 157 

1527. Sack of Rome, 1 58 

League between France and England, 159 

Altercations of Charles and Francis, 161 

Prevalence of Challeng is and Duels, 161 



mi CONTENTS 



CHAPTER XXX. 

A. D. tAUU 

1527. Scruples concerning the King's Marriage, 163 

The King enters into these Scruples, 164 

They are fortified by the Prelates, 1 64 

Anne Eoleyn, 165 

Henry applies to the Pope for a Divorce, 166 

The Pope favorable, 166 

Grants a Commission to examine the Validity of the Mar- 
riage, 167 

1528. The Emperor threatens him, 168 

The Pope's ambiguous Conduct, 170 

Grants a new Commission to Wolsey and Campeggio,. . 170 

1529. Trial of the King's Marriage, 172 

The Cause evoked to Rome, 174 

Wolsey's Fall, 175 

Charges brought against him in Parliament, 175 

He is indicted and convicted, 177 

Commencement of the Reformation in England, 17S 

Acts passed for regulating the Clergy, 179 

Foreign Affairs, 180 

A general Peace established in Europe, 180 

League of the Lutheran Princes at Smalcalde, 181 

Henry deliberates as to renouncing the Pope's Authority, 181 
The Universities consulted about the King's Marriage, , 182 

1530 They pronounce it unlawful, 184 

The Severities against Wolsey renewed, 185 

His Death, 186 

1531 A Parliament, 186 

Further Depression of the ecclesiastical Power, 186 

The King declared the supreme Head of the Church, .. 187 

(532 Progress of the Re r ovmation, 187 

Sir Thomas More resigns the Great Seal, 189 

Henry refuses to plead his Cause at Rome, 190 

He privately marries Anne Boleyn, 190 

l£33. A Parliament; Act prohibiting Appeals to Rome, 191 

* Henry publicly owns his Marriage, 191 

His Marriage, with Catharine annulled, 1 9ii 

Birth of the Princess Elizabeth 193 



CONTENTS n 

4. D. WU» 

Displeasure of the Pope, 192 

He forms an Alliance with Francis, 193 

1534 Henry's final Breach with Rome, 194 

A Parliament; Laws destructive of papal Power, 195 

Law regulating tho Succession to the Crown, 1 96 

Law attainting More and Fisher, 198 

Law completing tne Union of England and Wales, 198 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

1534. Religious Principles of the People, 201 

Religious Principles of the King, 203 

Religious Principles of the Ministers, 203 

Further Progress of the Reformation, 205 

Several Persons put to Death for Heresy, 206 

The Maid of Kent, 208 

The Imposture detected and punished, 209 

•fi 1535. Trial and Execution of Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, ... 211 

Trial and Execution of Sir Thomas More, 211 

The King excommunicated, 21 o 

1536 Death of Queen Catharine, 214 

The Emperor solicits an Alliance with Henry, 215 

Cromwell appointed Vicar-General, 218 

Commissioners employed to visit the Monasteries, 218 

Reported Enormities of the Friars, 219 

A Parliament, • 220 

Suppression of the lesser Monasteries, 220 

A Convocation; new Translation of the Scriptures, .... 221 

Disgrace of Queen Anne, 223 

She is committed to the Tower, 225 

Her Trial, 226 

Her Execution, 228 

Henry marries Jane Seymour, 229 

A Parliament, 229 

The Crown settled on the King's Issue by Jane Seymou •, 230 

Oath imposed to renounce the Pope, 231 

A. Convocation, : ■ 231 

Articles of Faith of a mixed Nature, 232 

Discontents am^ng the People, 234 



T CONTENTS. 

A. » PAOS 

Insurrection in L. ncolnshire, ." 235 

Rebellion in the North under Aske, 236 

The Rebels disperse, and are pardoned, 238 

1537. New Insurrections ; the Leaders put to Death, 238 

Birth of Prince Edward, and Death of Queen Jane, .... 239 

53S. Suppression of the greater Monasteries, 211 

Relics and Impostures, 342 

Superstitious Reverence paid to Thomas a Becket, 343 

Cardinal Pole, '..40 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

638. Disputation with Lambert, 250 

He is committed to the Flames as a Heretic, 252 

539. A Parliament, 2.',3 

Law of the Six Articles, 2153 

Proclamations made equal to Laws, l - o4 

Several Persons of Quality attainted without Proof of 

Guilt, ;156 

Henry's Projects of Marriage, 258 

He marries Anne of Cleves, SM50 

Dislikes her, 5 (iO 

540. A Parliament, i (ij 

Order of the Knights of St. John dissolved, 5 112 

Fall of Cromwell, i 63 

He is condemned and executed, i 64 

The King's Divorce from Anne of Cleves, i.65 

His Marriage with Catharine Howard, ,'.66 

Some of both religious Parties put to Death, "67 

1541. The Countess of Salisbury executed, 265 

State of Affairs in Scotland, 268 

Persecutions, and Rise of the Reformation there, 360 

Discovery of the Queen's dissolute Life, 271 

1542. Parliament passes a Bill of Attainder against Catharine, 'lid 

She is beheaded. Ill 

Ecclesiastical Affairs, 275 

Review of the new Translation of the Bible, 276 

Review of the new Mass Book, IV* 



CONTENTS XI 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

L.O. Pi a i 

542 War with Scotland, , 279 

Victory at Sol way, 281 

Death of James V., 281 

1543 Projected Marriage of Edward and Mary, 282 

Treaty with Scotland, 283 

New Rupture, 2'i4 

Henry is dissatisfied with Francis, and forms a League 

with the Emperor, 285 

A Parliament ; Subsidy granted, 286 

Power of the Crown further enlarged, 287 

The King marries Catharine Par, 288 

Affairs of Scotland, 288 

1544 A Parliament; Settlement of Succession to the Throne, 290 

Mitigation of the Law of the Six Articles, 291 

Noxious Expedients for filling the Exchequer, 291 

Incursion into Scotland under the Earl of Hertford, .... 292 

Campaign in France, 293 

Boulogne surrendered to Henry, 294 

Peace between Charles and Francis, 294 

1545. Alternate Success in the War with Scotland, 295 

A Parliament ; Supply granted, 297 

The King investe 1 with all Power, civil and ecclesiastical, 297 

1546. Peace with France and Scotland, 29^ 

Cabals against Cranmer, 30C 

Persecutions ; Anne Ascue, 301 

Peril and Escape of Queen Catharine, 302 

Duke of Norfolk and Earl of Surrey arrested, 305 

1547. Execution of the Ear! of Surrey, 306 

Attainder of the Duke of Norfolk, 306 

Death ^f the King, 307 

His Character, 3(J> 

Miscellaneous Transactions, . . . . . . , 31 i 



SU CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

EDWABU VI. 

*. » PAfll 

1547 State of the Regency, 320 

Innovations in the Regency, 321 

The Earl of Hertford chosen Protector, 321 

Promotions ; Hertford created Duke of Somerset, 322 

He is appointed Protector with full regal Power, 324 

The Reformation completed, 325 

Moderate Counsels of Cranmer, 326 

Gardiner's Opposition, 326 

Foreign Affairs ; Council of Trent, 329 

Progress of the Reformation in Scotland, 331 

Assassination of Cardinal Beatoun, 332 

Somerset revives the Project of uniting the two King- 
doms, 334 

He passes the Borders with an Army, 335 

The Battle of Pinkey, -. 336 

A Parliament ; Repeal of rigorous Laws, 339 

(548. Abolition of superstitious Practices, 340 

Affairs of Scotland, 342 

The Nation irritated, and rendered averse to the Union, 342 

The young Queen of Scots sent into France, 343 

Cabals of Lord Seymour, 344 

Dudley, Earl of Warwick, 347 

A Parliament; Attainder of Lord Seymour, 349 

1549 His Execution, 349 

Ecclesiastical Affairs, 350 

Priests permitted to marry, 351 

Persecution of Anabaptists and Heretics, 352 

Indulgence granted to the Princess Mary, 353 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

549. Discontents of the People, 354 

Grievances and Distress of the Poor, 355 



CONTENTS. Jriil 

*_ S PAC11 

Insurrection in Devonshire, 356 

Insurrection in Norfolk, 357 

Conduct of the War with Scotland, 358 

Conduct of the War with France, 359 

The French King attempts to recover Boulogne, 359 

Factions in the Council, 360 

Somerset's Rapacity and Sacrilege, 361 

Conspiracy against him, 362 

He resigns the Protectorship, 353 

Warwick takes the Lead in the Council, 36c 

A Parliament ; Law against Riots, 364 

1550. Peace with France and Scotland, 365 

Boulogne surrendered, 366 

' 551. Gardiner deprived of his Bishopric, 368 

Other Prelates persecuted, 368 

Havoc made on the Libraries at Westminster and Oxford, 368 
Resoluteness of the Lady Mary in her religious Princi- 
ples, 369 

A Body of German Protestants settled in London, 370 

Privileges of the Corporation of foreign Merchants an- 
nulled, 371 

Warwick created Duke of Northumberland, 372 

His Ambition, 372 

Trial of Somerset, 373 

»5o2. His Execution, 374 

A Parliament ; Law enacted against Usury, 375 

Act requiring two Witnesses in Trials for Treason, .... 376 

Act making Provision for the Poor, 376 

Northumberland's Severity against Tonstal, Bishop of 

Durham, 377 

A new Parliament, 378 

The King's Letter to influence the Elections 378 

1553. The Order of Succession changed, 380 

Ambitious Projects of Northumberland, 381 

The King's Sickness, 381 

The Crown settled by Patent on the Lady Jane Gray,.. 383 

The King's Dea*h and Characf er, 383 



Xf» CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

MAHV. 

4. B. iass 

3i3 Mary's Title generally deemed va.lia, , 3-S5 

Lady Jane Gray proclaimed Queen in London, 386 

The Men of Suffolk and others declare for Mary, 388 

Lady Jane deserted by the People, 389 

The Queen proclaimed and acknowledged, 389 

Northumberland tried and executed, 390 

The Queen's Clemency and Desire of Popularity, 391 

The Catholic Religion restored, 392 

Cranmer condemned for high Treason, 393 

The foreign and several English Protestants leave the 

Kingdom, 394 

A Parliament ; Majority favorable to Mary's Designs, . 394 

All King Edward's Laws with regard to Religion repealed, 395 

Deliberations as to the Queen's Marriage, 395 

The Emperor proposes his Son Philip, 398 

Dispute concerning the Real Presence, 39C 

1654. A Visitation appointed to restore the ancient Rites, .... 400 

The Queen's Marriage with Philip, 400 

The Articles highly favorable to England, 400 

The People dissatisfied, 401 

Wiat's Insurrection, 402 

Wiat's Insurrection suppressed, 403 

Execution of Lady Jane Gray, 405 

Suffolk and others executed or imprisoned, 406 

A Parliament ; Members bribed by the Emperor, ..... 407 

Refuse to grant Mary the Power to appoint her Successor, 407 

The Queen's Impatience for Philip's Arrival, 408 

V t lands at Southampton, 409 

A Parliament, 410 

Cardinal Pole urtfertaKes to reconcile the Nation to the 

Pope, 410 

Alienation of Church Lands confirmed, 411 

Philip aims at Popularity, 412 

The Queen's supposed Pregnancy, 413 

55? Several Members indicted for seceding from the House 

of Commons, 414 



CONTENTS. Xf 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

*. » -iOI 

555 Different Principles of Pole ami Gardiner, , . 415 

Reasons for and against Toleration, 416 

Violent Persecutions, 419 

Rogers, Hooper, Sanders, and Taylor burned, 420 

Bishops Ridley and Latimer burned at Oxford, 422 

A pregnant Woman burned in Guernsey, 422 

Attempt to introduce the Inquisition, 423 

% Tyrannical Instructions to Justices of Peace, 424 

Negotiation for Reconcilement with the Pope, 426 

His haughty Conduct, 426 

A Parliament ; thwarts the Queen's Measures, 427 

Mary, neglected by Philip, becomes splenetic, 428 

She extorts Money from her Subjects, 428 

The Emperor Charles resigns his Crown, 430 

1556. He retires to the Monastery of St. Just in Estramadura, 430 

The Pope refuses to crown Ferdinand, 431 

Contrast between his Conduct and that of Charles, 432 

Execution of Cranmer, 433 

1557. The Queen engages the Nation in a War against France, 435 
Battle of St. Quintin, 437 

1558. Calais is invested by Sea and Land, 438 

It surrenders, 439 

Discontents and Murmurs of the English, 439 

Affairs of Scotland, 439 

The Queen Dowager appointed Regent, 440 

Marriage of the Dauphin and the Queen of Scots, 442 

A Parliament ; a Subsidy granted, 442 

Proposal of Marriage to the Princess Elizabeth, 443 

Her Dangers and prudent Conduct, 443 

Armament sent against France, . . . 444 

Death and Character of the Queen, 445 

Death of Cardinal Pole, » . . . 448 

Miwcllaneous Transactions AA* 



HISTORY OF ENGLANI. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

HENRY VII. 



CONTEMPORARY MONARCHS. 



Emp. of Germ. 


K. of Scotland. 


K. of France. 


K. of Spain. 


POPBS. 


rrederict IV. 1493 
Maximilian I. 


James IV. 


Charles VIII. 1498 
Louis XII. 


Isabella 1504 

Philip and Jane. 


Innocent VIII :4PJ 
Alexander VI .503 

Julius II. 



[1485.] The victory which the earl of Richmond gained 
at Bosworth was entirely decisive ; being attended, as well 
with the total rout and dispersion of the royal army, as with 
the death of the king himself. Joy for this great success 
suddenly prompted the soldiers, in the field of battle, to 
bestow on their victorious general the appellation of king, 
which he had not hitherto assumed ; and the acclamations 
of " Long live Henry VII.," by a natural and unpremedita- 
ted movement, resounded from all quarters. To bestow some 
appearance of formality on this species of military election, 
Sir William Stanley brought a crown of ornament, which 
Richard wore in battle, and which had been found among 
the spoils ; and he put it on the head of the victor. Henry 
himself remained not in suspense ; but immediately, without 
hesitation, accepted of the magnificent present which was 
tendered him. He was come to the crisis of his fortune ; 
and being obliged suddenly to determine himself, amidst 
great difficulties which he must have frequently revolved in 
his mind, he chose that part which his ambition suggested 
to him, and to which he seemed to be invited by his present 
success. 

There were many titles on which Henry could found his 
vol. in. — A 



2 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. f A. D. I486. 

right to the crown ; but no one of them free from great 
objections, if considered with respect either to justice or to 
policy. 

During some years, Henry had been regarded as heir to 
the house of Lancaster by the party attached to that family ; 
but the title of the house of Lancaster itself was generally 
thought to be very ill founded. Henry IV., who had first 
raised it to royal dignity, had never clearly defined the foun- 
dation of his claim ; and while he plainly invaded the order 
of succession, he had not acknowledged the election of the 
people. The parliament, it is true, had often recognized the 
title of the Lancastrian princes ; but these votes had little 
authority, being considered as instances of complaisance to- 
wards a family in possession of present power ; and they had 
accordingly been often reversed during the late prevalence 
of the house of York. Prudent men also, who had been 
willing for the sake of peace to submit to any established 
authority, desired not to see the claims of that family revived ; 
claims which must produce many convulsions at present, and 
which disjointed for the future the whole system of hered- 
itary right. Besides, allowing the title of the house of Lan- 
caster to be legal, Henry himself was not the true heir of 
that family; and nothing but the obstinacy natural to faction, 
which never without reluctance will submit to an antagonist, 
could have engaged the Lancastrians to adopt the earl of 
Richmond as their head. His mother indeed, Margaret, 
countess of Richmond, was sole daughter and heir of the 
duke of Somerset, sprung from John of Gaunt, duke of Lan 
caster : but the descent of the Somerset line was itself ille- 
gitimate, and even adulterous. And though the duke of Lan- 
caster had obtained the legitimation of his natural children by 
a patent from Richard II., confirmed in parliament, it might 
justly be doubted whether this deed could bestow any title to 
the crown ; since in the patent itself all the privileges confer- 
red by it are fully enumerated, and the succession to the king- 
dom is expressly excluded.* In all settlements of the crown 
made during the reigns of the Lancastrian princes, the line of 
Somerset had been entirely overlooked ; and it was not till tho 
failure of the legitimate branch, that men had paid any atten- 
tion to their claim. And to add to the general dissatisfaction 
against Henry's title, his mother, from whom he derived al] 

* Rvmer, torn. vii. p. 849. Coke's Inst. iv. Inst, part i. p. 37. 



A. D 1485.] HENRY VII. & 

nis right, was still alive ; and evidently preceded him in tbe 
order of succession. 

The title of the house of York, both from the plain reason 
of the case, and from the late popular government of Edward 
IV., had universally obtained the preference in the sentiments 
of the people ; and Henry might ingraft his claim on the rights 
of that family, by his intended marriage with the princess 
Elizabeth, the heir of it ; a marriage which he had solemnly 
promised to celebrate, and to the expectation of which he had 
chiefly owed all his past successes. But many reasons dis- 
suaded Henry from adopting this expedient. Were he to 
receive the crown only in right of his consort, his power, he 
knew, would be very limited ; and he must expect rather to 
enjoy the bare title of king by a sort of courtesy, than pos- 
sess the real authority which belongs to it. Should the prin 
cess die before him without issue, he must descend from the 
throne, and give place to the next in succession ; and even if 
his bed should be blest with offspring, it seemed dangerous to 
expect that filial piety in his children would prevail over the 
ambition of obtaining present possession of regal power. An 
act of parliament, indeed, might easily be procured to settle 
the crown on him during life ; but Henry knew how much 
superior the claim of succession by blood was to the authority 
of an assembly,* which had always been overborne by vio- 
lence in the shock of contending titles, and which had ever 
been more governed by the conjunctures of the times, than by 
any consideration derived from reason or public interest. 

There was yet a third foundation on which Henry might 
rest his claim, the right of conquest, by his victory over Rich- 
ard, the present possessor of the crown. But besides that 
Richard himself was deemed no better than a usurper, the 
army which fought against him consisted chiefly of English- 
men ; and a right of conquest over England could never b« 
established by such a victory. Nothing also would give 
greater umbrage to the nation than a claim of this nature ; 
which might be construed as an abolition of all their right* 
jmd privileges, and the establishment of absolute authority in 
the sovereign.! William himself, the Norman, though at the 
head of a powerful and victorious army of foreigners, had at 
first declined the invidious title of Conqueror ; and it was no} 

* Bacou in Kenael's Complete History, p. '>19. 
t Bacon, p 5'9 



4 BISTORT OF ENGLAND [A. D. I486 

till the full establishment of his authority, that he had ventured 
to advance so violent and destructive a pretension. 

But Henry was sensible that there remained another foun- 
dation of power, somewhat resembling the right of conquest, 
namely, present possession ; and that this title, guarded by 
vigor and abilities, would be sufficient to procure perpetual 
possession of the throne. He had before him the example of 
Henry IV., who, supported by no better pretension, had sub- 
dued many insurrections, and had been able to transmit the 
mown peaceably to his posterity. He could perceive that this 
claim, which had been perpetuated through three generations 
of the family of Lancaster, might still have subsisted, notwith- 
standing the preferable title of the house of York, had not 
the sceptre devolved into the hands of Henry VI., which were 
too feeble to sustain it. Instructed by this recent experience, 
Henry was determined to put himself in possession of regal 
authority, and to show all opponents, that nothing but force 
of arms and a successful war should be able to expel him. 
His claim as heir to the house of Lancaster he was resolved 
to advance, and never allow it to be discussed ; and he hoped 
that this right, favored by the partisans of that family, and 
seconded by present power, would secure him a perpetual and 
an independent authority. 

These views of Henry are not exposed to much blame , 
because founded on good policy, and even on a species of 
necessity ; but there entered into all his measures and coun 
sels another motive, which admits not of the same apology. 
The violent contentions which, during so long a period, had 
been maintained between the rival families, and the many 
sanguinary revenges which they had alternately taken on each 
other, had inflamed the opposite factions to a high pitch of 
animosity. Henry himself, who had seen most of his near 
friends and relations perish in battle or by the executioner, 
and who had been exposed in his own person to many hard- 
ships and dangers, had imbibed a violent antipathy to the York 
party, which no time or experience were ever able to efface. 
Instead of embracing the present happy opportunity of abol- 
ishing these fatal distinctions, of uniting his title with that of 
his consort, and of bestowing favor indiscriminately on the 
friends of both families, he carried to the throne all the par- 
tialities which belong to the head of a faction, and even the 
passions which are carefully guarded against by every true 
politician in that situation To exalt the Lancastrian party, to 



A.. D. 1485.] henry vn. O 

depress the adherents of the house of York, were still th« 
favorite objects of his pursuit ; and through the whole course 
of his reign, he never forgot these early prepossessions. Inca- 
pable from his natural temper of a more enlarged and more 
benevolent system of policy, he exposed himself to many 
present inconveniences, by too anxiously guarding against 
that future possible event, which might disjoin his title from 
that of the princess whom he espoused. And while he treated 
the Yorkists as enemies, he soon rendered them such, and 
taught them to discuss that right to the crown, which he so 
carefully kept separate, and to perceive its weakness and 
invalidity. 

To these passions of Henry, as well as to his suspicious 
politics, we are to ascribe the measures which he embraced 
two days after the battle of Bos worth. Edward Plantagenet, 
earl of Warwick, son of the duke of Clarence, wa* detained 
in a kind of confinement at Sherif-Hutton, in Yorkshire, by 
the jealousy of his uncle Richard, whose title to the throne 
was inferior to that of the young prince. Warwick had now 
reason to expect better treatment, as he was no obstacle to 
the succession either of Henry or Elizabeth ; and from a 
youth of such tender years no danger could reasonably be 
apprehended. But Sir B,obert Willoughby was despatched 
by Henry with orders to take him from Sherif-Hutton, to con- 
vey him to the Tower, and to detain him in close custody.* 
The same messenger carried directions, that the princess 
Elizabeth, who had been confined to the same place, should 
be conducted to London, in order to meet Henry, and there 
celebrate her nuptials. 

Henry himself set out for the capital, and advanced by 
slow journeys. Not to rouse the jealousy of the people, he 
took care to avoid all appearance of military triumph ; and so 
to restrain the insolence of victory, that every thing about him 
bore the appearance of an established monarch, making a 
peaceable progress through his dominions, rather than of a 
prince who had opened his way to the throne by force of 
arms. The acclamations of the people were eveiy where 
loud, and no less sincere and hearty. Besides that a young 
and victorious prince, on his accession, was naturally the 
object of popularity, the nation promised themselves great 
felicity from the new scene which opened before them 



* Bacon, p. 57D. Polyd. Virg. p. -TCS. 



t HIM UK * OF BNGLA.1D. [A U. HB5 

During th»s course of near a whole century, the king lorn haa 
been laid waste by domestic wars and convulsions; and if at 
any time the noise of arms had ceased, the sound of faction 
and discontent still threatened new disorders Henry, by his 
marriage with Elizabeth, seemed to insure a union of the 
contending titles of the two families ; and having prevailed 
over a hated tyrant, who had anew disjointed the succession 
even of the house of York, and had filled his own family with 
Wood and murder, he was every where attended with the un- 
it, igned favor of the people. Numerous and splendid troops 
of gentry and nobility accompanied his progress. The mayor 
and companies of London received him as he approached the 
city ; and crowds of people and citizens were zealous in their 
expressions of satisfaction. But Henry, amidst this general 
effusion of joy, discovered still the stateliness and reserve of 
his temper, which made him scorn to court popularity : he 
entered London in a close chariot, and would not gratify the 
people with a sight of their new sovereign. 

But the king did not so much neglect the favor of the peo- 
ple, as to delay giving them assurances of his marriage Avith 
the princess Elizabeth, which he knew to be so passionately 
desired by the nation. On his leaving Brittany, he had art- 
fully dropped some hints that, if he should succeed in his 
enterprise, and obtain the crown of England, he would espouse 
Anne, the heir of that duchy ; and the report of this engage- 
ment had already reached England, and had begotten anxiety 
in the people, and even in Elizabeth herself. Henry took 
care to dissipate these apprehensions, by solemnly reneAving, 
before the council and principal nobility, the promise which he 
had already given to celebrate his nuptials with the English 
princess. But though bound by honor, as well as by interest, 
to complete this alliance, he was resolved to postpone it till 
the ceremony of his own coronation should be finished, and 
till his title should be recognized by parliament. Still anxious 
to support his personal and hereditary right to the throne, he 
dreaded lest a preceding marriage with the princess should 
imply a participation of sovereignty in her, and raise doubts 
of his own title by the house of Lancaster. 

There raged at that time in London, and ether parts of the 
kingdom, a species of malady unknown to any other age or 
nation, the sweating sickness, which occasioned the sudden 
death of great multitudes ; though it seemed not to be prop- 
agated by any contagious infection, but arose from the genera] 



A D. 1486. J henry vn. ■» 

disposition of the air and of the human hody. In less than 
twenty-four hours the patient commonly died or recovered ; 
but when the pestilence had exerted its fury for a few weeks, 
it was observed, either from alterations in the air, or from a 
more proper regimen which had been discovered, to be con 
siderably abated.* Preparations were then made for the cer- 
emony of Henry's coronation. In order to heighten the 
splendor of that spectacle, he bestowed the rank of knight 
banneret on twelve persons ; and he conferred peerages on 
three. Jasper, earl of Pembroke, his uncle, was created duke 
of Bedford ; Thomas Lord Stanley, his father-in-law, earl of 
Derby ; and Edward Courtney, earl of Devonshire. At the 
coronation, likewise, there appeared a new institution, which 
the king had established for security as well as pomp, a band 
of fifty archers, who were termed yeomen of the guard. But 
lest the people should take umbrage at this unusual symptom 
of jealousy in the prince, as if it implied a personal diffidence 
of his subjects, he declared the institution to be perpetual. 
The ceremony of coronation was performed by Cardinal 
Bourchier, archbishop of Canterbury. 

The parliament being assembled at Westminster, the major- 
ity immediately appeared to be devoted partisans of Henry ; 
all persons of another disposition either declining to stand in 
those dangerous times, or being obliged to dissemble their 
principles and inclinations. The Lancastrian party had every 
where been successful in the elections ; and even many had 
been returned who, during the prevalence of the house of 
York, had been exposed to the rigor of law, and had been 
condemned by sentence of attainder and outlawry. Their 
right to take seats in the house being questioned, the case was 
referred to all the judges, who assembled in the exchequer 
chamber, in order to deliberate on so delicate a subject. The 
opinion delivered was prudent, and contained a just tempera- 
ment between law and expediency. f The judges determined, 
that the members attainted should forbear taking their seat till 
an act were passed for the reversal of their attainder. There 
was no difficulty in obtaining this act ; and in it were compre- 
hended a hundred and seven persons of the king's party.J 

But a scruple was started of a nature still more important. 
The king himself had been attainted ; and his right of sue* 

* Polyd. Virg. p. 5G7. t Bacon, p. 581. 

* Ret. Pari. 1 Henry VII. n. 2. 3, 4—15, 17, 26—65. 



8 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 14S5 

cession to the crown might thence he exposed to some doubt 
The judges extricated themselves from this dangerous question, 
by asserting it as a maxim, " That the crown takes away al\ 
defects and stops in blood ; and that from the time the king 
assumed royal authority, the fountain was cleared, and all 
attainders and corruptions of blood discharged."* Besides 
that the case, from its urgent necessity, admitted of no delib 
eration, the judges probably thought that no sentence of a 
court of judicature had authority sufficient to bar the right of 
succession ; that the heir of the crown was commonly exposed 
to such jealousy as might often occasion stretches of law and 
justice against him ; and that a prince might even be engaged 
in unjustifiable measures during his predecessor's reign, with- 
out meriting on that account to be excluded from the throne, 
v/hich was his birthright. 

With a parliament so obsequious, the king could not fail of 
obtaining whatever act of settlement he was pleased to require 
He seems only to have entertained some doubt within himself 
on what claim he should found his pretensions. In his speech 
to the parliament, he mentioned his just title by hereditary 
right : but lest that title should not be esteemed sufficient, he 
subjoined his claim by the judgment of God, who had given 
him victory over his enemies. And again, lest this pretension 
should be interpreted as assuming a right of conquest, he 
insured to his subjects the full enjoyment of their former 
properties and possessions. 

The entail of the crown was drawn according to the sense 
of the king, and probably in words dictated by him. He 
made no mention in it of the princess Elizabeth, nor of any 
branch of her family : but in other respects the act was com- 
piled with sufficient reserve and moderation. He did noi 
insist that it should contain a declaration or recognition ot 
his preceding right ; as, on the other hand, he avoided the 
appearance of a new law or ordinance. He chose a middle 
course, which, as is generally unavoidable in such cases, was 
not entirely free from uncertainty and obscurity. It was 
voted, " That the inheritance of the crown should rest, re- 
main, and abide in the king :"t hut whether as rightful heir, 
or only as present possessor, was not determined. In like 
manner, Henry was contented that the succession should be 
secured to the heirs of his body ; but he pretended not, in 

* Bacon, p. 581. f Baeon, p. 581. 



A.D. 14So.j henry vn. 9 

case of their failure, to exclude the house of York, or to give 
the preference to th.it of Lancaster : he left that great point 
ambiguous for the present, and trusted that, if it should evei 
become requisite to determine it, future incidents would open 
the way for the decision. 

But even after all these precautions, the king was so little 
satisfied with his own title, that in the following year, lie 
applied to papal authority for a confirmation of it ; arid as the 
court of Rome gladly laid hold of all opportunities which the 
imprudence, weakness, or necessities of princes afforded it to 
extend its influence, Innocent VIII., the reigning pope, readily 
granted a bull, in whatever terms the king was pleased to 
desire. All Henry's titles, by succession, marriage, parlia- 
mentary choice, even conquest, are there enumerated ; and 
to the whole the sanction of religion is added ; excommunica- 
tion is denounced against every one who should either disturb 
him in the present possession, or the heirs of his body iv the 
future succession of the crown ; and from this penalty no 
criminal, except in the article of death, could be absolved but 
by the pope himself, or his special commissioners. It is diffi- 
cult to imagine that the security derived from this bull could 
be a compensation for the defect which it betrayed in Henry'a 
title, and for the danger of thus inviting the pope to interpose 
in these concerns. 

It was natural, and even laudable in Henry to reverse the 
attainders which had passed against the partisans of the house 
of Lancaster : but the revenges which he exercised against 
the adherents of the York family, to which he was so soon to 
be allied, cannot be considered in the same light. Yet the par- 
liament, at his instigation, passed an act of attainder against 
the late king himself, against the duke of Norfolk, the earl 
of Surrey, Viscount Lovel, the lords Zouche and Ferrars of 
Chartley, Sir Walter and Sir James Harrington, Sir William 
Berkeley, Sir Humphrey Stafford, Catesby, and about twenty 
other gentlemen, who had fought on Richard's side in the 
battle of Bosworth. How men could be guilty of treason by 
supporting the king in possession against the earl of Rich- 
mond, who assumed not the title of king, it is not easy to 
conceive ; and nothing but a servile complaisance in the par- 
liament could have engaged them to make this stretch of 
justice. Nor was it a small mortification to the people in 
general, to find that the king, prompted either by avarice 01 
resentment, could, in the very beginning of his reign, so fai 



10 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 148£ 

violate the cordial union which had previously been concerted 
oetween the parties, and to the expectation of which he had 
plainly owed his succession to the throne. 

The king, having gained so many points of consequence 
from the parliament, thought it not expedient to demand any 
supply from them, which the profound peace enjoyed by the 
nation, and the late forfeiture of Richard's adherents, seemed 
to render somewhat superfluous. The parliament, however 
conferred i*i him during life the duty of tonnage and pound- 
age, which had been enjoyed in the same manner by some 
of his immediate predecessors ; and they added, before they 
broke up, other money bills of no great moment. The king, 
on his part, made returns of grace and favor to his people. 
He published his royal proclamation, offering pardon to all 
such as had taken arms, or formed any attempts against him ; 
provided they submitted themselves to mercy by a certain 
day, and took the usual oath of fealty and allegiance. UpoL. 
this proclamation many came out of their sanctuaries ; and 
the minds of men were every where much quieted. Henry 
f-hose to take wholly to himself the merit of an act of grace 
so agreeable to the nation, rather than communicate it with 
the parliament, (as was his first intention,) by passing a bill 
to that purpose. The earl of Surrey, however, though he had 
submitted, and delivered himself into the king's hands, was 
sent prisoner to the Tower. 

During this parliament, the king also bestowed favors and 
honors on some particular persons who were attached to him. 
Edward Stafford, eldest son of the duke of Buckingham, 
attainted in the late reign, was restored to the honors of 
his family, as well as to his fortune, which was very ample. 
This generosity, so unusual in Henry, was the effect of his 
gratitude to the memory of Buckingham, who had first con- 
certed the plan of his elevation, and who by his own ruin 
had made way for that great event. Chandos of Brittany 
was created earl of Bath, Sir Giles Daubeny, Lord Daubeny, 
and Sir Robert Willoughby, Lord Broke. These were all 
the titles of nobility conferred by the king during this sessioi/ 
of parliament.* 

But the ministers whom Henry most trusted and favored 
were not chosen from among the nobility, or even from among 
the laity. John Morton and Richard Fox, two clergymen 

* Polyd. "V rg. * 566. 



A..D. I486.] HENRY vn n 

persons of industry, vigilance, and capacity, were the men to 
whom he chiefly confide d his affairs and secret counsels. Thej' 
had shared with him all his former dangers and distresses ; ana 
he now took care to make them participate in his good fortune. 
They were both called to the privy council ; Morton was tp 
stored to the bishopric of Ely, Fox was created bishop of Exeter. 
The former, soon after, upon the death of Bourchier, was raised 
-o the ser of Canterbury. The latter was made privy seal ; 
and successively bishop of Bath and Wells, Durham, and 
Winchester. For Henry, as Lord Bacon observes, loved to 
employ and advance prelates ; because having rich bishoprics 
to bestow, it was easy for him to reward their services : and 
it was his maxim to raise them by slow steps, and make them 
first pass through the inferior sees.* He probably expected 
that, as they were naturally more dependent on him than the 
nobility, who during that age enjoyed possessions and jurisdic 
tions dangerous to royal authority, so the prospect of further 
elevation would render them still more active in his service, 
and more obsequious to his commands. 

[I486.] In presenting the bill of tonnage and poundage, the 
parliament, anxious to preserve the legal, undisputed succession 
to the crown, had petitioned Henry, with demonstrations of 
the greatest zeal, to espouse the princess Elizabeth ; but they 
covered their true reason under the dutiful pretence of their 
desire to have heirs of his body. He now thought in earnest 
of satisfying the minds of his people in that particular. His 
marriage was celebrated at London ; and that with greater 
appearance of universal joy than either his first entry or his 
coronation. Henry remarked with much displeasure thia 
general favor borne to the house of York. The suspicions 
which arose from it not only disturbed his tranquillity during 
nis whole reign, but bred disgust towards his consort herself, 
and poisoned all his domestic enjoyments. Though virtuous, 
amiable, and obsequious to the last degree, she never met 
with a proper return of affection, or even of complaisance, 
from her husband ; and the malignant ideas of faction still, in 
his sullen mind, prevailed over all the sentiments of conjugal 
tenderness. 

The king had been carried along with such a tide of success 
*>ver since his arrival in England, that he thought nothing 
bould withstand the fortune and authority wl ich attended him 



* Bacon, p. 58a. 



'? HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1486 

He now resolved to make a p. -ogress into the n6rth, where the 
friends of the house of York, and even the partisans of Richard 
were numerous ; in hopes of curing, by his presence and con 
versa tion, the prejudices of the malecontents. When he arrivec 
at Nottingham, he heard that Viscount Lovel, with Sir Hum 
phrey Stafford, and Thcmas his brother, had secretly withdrawn 
themselves from their sanctuary at Colchester : but this news 
appeared not to him of such importance as to stop his journey ; 
and he proceeded forward to York. He there heard that the 
Staffords had levied an army, and were marching to besiege 
the city of Worcester ; and that Lovel, at the head of three 
or four thousand men, was approaching to attack him in York. 
Henry was not dismayed with this intelligence. His active 
courage, full of resources, immediately prompted him to find 
the proper remedy. Though surrounded with enemies in these 
disaffected counties, he assembled a small body of troops, in 
whom he could confide ; and he put them under the com- 
mand of the duke of Bedford. He joined to them all his own 
attendants ; but he found that this hasty armament was more 
formidable by their spirit and their zealous attachment to him, 
than by the arms or military stores with which they were 
provided. He therefore gave Bedford orders not to approach 
the enemy ; but previously to try every proper expedient to 
disperse them. Bedford published a general promise of pardon 
to the rebels, which had a greater effect on their leader than 
on his followers. Lovel, who had undertaken an enterprise 
that exceeded his courage and capacity, was so terrified with 
the fear of desertion among his troops, that he suddenly with- 
drew himself; and after lurking some time in Lancashire, he 
made his escape into Flanders, where he was protected by 
the duchess of Burgundy. His army submitted to the king's 
clemency ; and the other rebels, hearing of this success, raised 
the siege of Worcester, and dispersed themselves. The Staf 
fords took sanctuarv in the church of Colnham, a village 
near Abingdon ; but as it was found that this church had 
not the privilege of giving protection to rebels, they were taken 
thence ; the elder was executed at Tyburn ; the younger, 
pleading that he had been misled by his brother, obtained a 
pardon.* 

Henry's joy for this success was followed, some time after, by 
ihe birth cf a prince, to whom he gave the name of Arthur, in 

* Polyd. Virg. p . 569. 



A. D. 1480.} HENRY VII. 13 

memory of ths famous British king of that name, from whom 
it was pretended the family of Tudor derived its descent. 

Though Henry had been able to defeat this hasty rebellion, 
raised by the relics of Richard's partisans, his government was 
become in general unpopular : the source of public discontent 
arose chiefly from his prejudices against the house of York, 
which was generally beloved by the nation, and which, for 
that very reason, became every day more the object of his 
hatred and jealousy. Not only a preference on all occasions, 
it was observed, was given to the Lancastrians, but many 
of the opposite party had been exposed to great severity, and 
had been bereaved of their fortunes by acts of attainder. A 
general resumption likewise had passed of all grants made 
by the princes of the house of York ; and though this rigor 
had been covered under the pretence that the revenue was 
become insufficient to support the dignity of the crown, and 
though the grants during the later years of Henry VI. were 
resumed by the same law, yet the York party, as they were 
the principal sufferers by the resumption, thought it chiefly 
levelled against them. The severity exercised against the 
earl of Warw ; ilv begat compassion lor youth and innocence 
exposed to such oppression ; and his confinement in the 
Tower, the very place where Edward's children had been 
murdered by their uncle, made the public expect a like catas- 
trophe for him, and led them to make a comparison between 
Henry and that detested tyrant. And when it was remarked 
that the queen herself met with harsh treatment, and even 
after the birth of a son, was not admitted to the honor of a 
public coronation, Henry's prepossessions were then con- 
cluded to be inveterate, and men became equally obstinate in 
their disgust to his government. Nor was the manner and 
address of the king calculated to cure these prejudices con- 
tracted against his administration ; but had in every thing a 
tendency to promote fear, or at best reverence, rather than 
good will and affection.* While the high idea entertained of 
his policy and vigor retained the nobility and men of charactei 
in obedience, the effects of his unpopular government soon 
appeared, by incidents of an extraordinary nature. 

There lived in Oxford one Richard Simon, a priest, who 
possessed some subtlety, and still more enterprise and temer 
ity. This man had entertained the design of disturbing 

* Bacon, p. 583. 



14 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 148& 

Henry's government, by raising a pretender to his crown , 
and for that purpose he cast his eyes on Lambert Simnel, a 
youth of fifteen years of age, who was son of a baker, and 
who, being endowed with understanding above his years, and 
address above his condition, seemed well fitted to personate a 
prince of royal extraction. A report had been spread among 
'Aie people, and received with great avidity, that Richard, 
duke of York, second son of Edward IV., had, by a secret 
escape, saved himself from the cruelty of his uncle, and lay 
somewhere concealed in England. Simon, taking advantage 
of this rumor, had at first instructed his pupil to assume that 
name, which he found to be so fondly cherished by the public : 
but hearing afterwards a new report, that Warwick had made 
his escape from the Tower, and observing that this news was 
attended with no less-general satisfaction, he changed the plan 
of his imposture, and made Simnel personate that unfortunate 
prince.* Though the youth was qualified by nature for the 
part which he was instructed to act, yet was it remarked, that 
he was better informed in circumstances relating to the royal 
family, particularly in the adventures of the earl of Warwick, 
than he could be supposed to have learned from one of 
Simon's condition : and it was thence conjectured, that per- 
sons of higher rank, partisans of the house of York, had laid 
the plan of this conspiracy, and had conveyed proper instruc- 
tions to the actors. The queen dowager herself was exposed 
to suspicion ; and it was indeed the general opinion, however 
unlikely it might seem, that she had secretly given her consent 
to the imposture. This woman was of a very restless dispo- 
sition. Finding that, instead of receiving the reward of her 
services in contributing to Henry's elevation, she herself was 
fallen into absolute insignificance, her daughter treated with 
severity, and all her friends brought under subjection, she 
had conceived the most violent animosity against him, and 
had resolved to make him feel the effects of her resentment. 
She knew that the impostor, however successful, might easily 
at last be set aside ; and if a way could be found at his risk 
to subvert the government, she hoped that a scene might be 
opened, which, though difficult at present exactly to foresee, 
*t r ould gratify her revenge, and be on the whole less irksome 
to h?r than that slavery and contempt to which she was now 
reduced, t 



* Polyd. Virg. p, 5G9. 570 t Polytl. Virg. p. 570. 



A. D. 1466.] henry vn. 15 

But whatever care Simon might take to convey inslructior 
to his pupil Simnel, he was sensible that the imposture would 
not bear a close inspection ; and he was therefore determined 
to open the first public scene of it in Ireland. That island, 
which was zealously attached to the house of York, and bore 
an affectionate regard to the memory of Clarence, Warwick's 
father, who had. been their lieutenant, was improvidently 
allowed by Henry to remain in the same condition in which 
he found it ; and all the counsellors and officers, who had been 
appointed by his predecessor, still retained their authority. No 
sooner did Simnel present himself to Thomas Fitzgerald, earl 
of Kildare, the deputy, and claim his protection as the unfor- 
tunate Warwick, than that credulous nobleman, not suspecting 
so bold an imposture, gave attention to him, and began to 
consult some persons of rank with regard to this extraordinary 
incident. These he found even more sanguine in their zeal 
and belief than himself: and in proportion as the story 
diffused itself among those of lower condition, it became the 
object of still greater passion and credulity, till the people in 
Dublin with one consent tendered their allegiance to Simnel, 
as to the true Plantagenet. Fond of a novelty which flattered 
their natural propension, they overlooked the daughters of 
Edward IV., who stood before Warwick in the order of suc- 
cession ; they paid the pretended prince attendance as their 
sovereign, lodged him in the Castle of Dublin, crowned him 
with a diadem taken from a statue of the Virgin, and publicly 
proclaimed him king, by the appellation of Edward VI. The 
whole island followed the example of the capital ; and not a 
sword was any where drawn in Henry's quarrel. 

When this intelligence was conveyed to the king, it reduced 
him to some perplexity. Determined always to face his ene- 
mies in person, he yet scrupled at present to leave England 
where he suspected the conspiracy was first framed, and where 
he knew many persons of condition, and the people in general, 
were much disposed to give it countenance. In order to dis- 
cover the secret source of the contrivance, and take measures; 
against this open revolt, he held frequent consultations with 
his ministers and counsellors, and laid plans for a vigorous 
defence of his authority, and the suppression of his enemies. 

The first event which followed these deliberations gave sur- 
prise to the public ; it was the seizure of the queen dowager, 
the forfeiture of all her lands and revenue, and the close con- 
finement of her person in the nunnery of Bermondsey. Thi« 



16 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 148fc 

act of authority was covered with a very tl. ar. pretence. L* 
was alleged that, notwithstanding the secret agreement to 
marry her daughter to Henry, she had yet yielded to the 
solicitations and menaces of Richard, and had delivered that 
princess and her sisters into the hands of the tyrant. This 
crime, which was now become obsolete, and might admit of 
alleviations, was therefore suspected not to be the real cause 
of the severity with which she was treated ; and men believed 
that the king, unwilling to accuse so near a relation of a con- 
spiracy against him, had cloaked his vengeance or precaution 
under color of an offence known to the whole world.* They 
were afterwards the more confirmed in this suspicion, when 
they found that the unfortunate queen, though she survived 
this disgrace several years, was never treated with any more 
lenity, but was allowed to end her life in poverty, solitude, and 
confinement. 

The next measure of the king's was of a less exceptionable 
nature. He ordered that Warwick should be taken from tho 
Tower, be led in procession through the streets of London, be. 
conducted to St. Paul's, and there exposed to the view of the 
whole people. He even gave directions, that some men of 
rank, attached to the house of York, and best acquainted with 
the person of this prince, should approach him and converse 
with him : and he trusted that these, being convinced of the 
absurd imposture of Simnel, would put a stop to the credulity 
of the populace. The expedient had its effect in England ; 
but in Ireland the people still persisted in their revolt, and 
zealously retorted on the king the reproach of propagating an 
imposture, and of having shown a counterfeit Warwick to the 
public. 

Henry had soon reason to apprehend, that the design against 
him was not laid on such slight foundations as the absurdity 
of the contrivance seemed to indicate. John, earl of Lincoln, 
son of John de la Pole, duke of Suffolk, and of Elizabeth, 
eldest sister to Edward IV., was engaged to take part in the 
conspiracy. This nobleman, who possessed capacity and 
courage, had entertained very aspiring views ; and his ambition 
was encouraged by the known intentions of his uncle Richard, 
who had formed a design, in case he himself should die w'thout 
issue, of declaring Lincoln successor to the crown. The king's 
jealousy against all eminent persons of the York party, and 

* Bacon, p. o53. Polyd. Virg. r 371 



A D. 1487.1 henry vn. I 

his rigor towards Warwick, had further struck Lincoln with 
apprehensions, and made him resolve to seek for safety in the 
most dangerous counsels. Having fixed a secret correspond- 
ence with Sir Thomas Broughton, a man of great interest in 
Lancashire, he retired to Flanders, where Lovel had arrived a 
little before him ; and he lived during some time in the court 
of his aunt the duchess of Burgundy, by whom he had be<sn 
invited over 

Margaret, widow of Charles the Bold, duke of Burgundy 
not having any children of her own, attached herself with 
an entire friendship to her daughter-in-law, married to Maxi- 
milian, archduke of Austria; and after the death of that prin- 
cess, she persevered in her affection to Philip and Margaret, 
her children, and occupied herself in the care of their educa 
tion and of their persons. By her virtuous conduct and de- 
meanor she had acquired great authority among the Flem 
ings ; and lived with much dignity, as well as economy, upon 
that ample dowry which she inherited from her husband. 
The resentments of this princess were no less warm than her 
friendships ; and that spirit of faction, which it is so difficult 
for a social and sanguine temper to guard against, had taken 
strong possession of her heart, and intrenched somewhat on 
the probity which shone forth in the other parts of her charac- 
ter. Hearing of the malignant jealousy entertained by Henry 
against her family, and his oppression of all its partisans, she 
was moved with the highest indignation ; and she determined 
to make him repent of that enmity to which so many of her 
friends, without any reason or necessity, had fallen victims. 
[1487.] After consulting with Lincoln and Lovel, she hired 
a body of two thousand veteran Germans, under the command 
of Martin Swart, a brave and experienced officer ; * and sent 
them over, together with these two noblemen, to join Simnel 
in Ireland. The countenance given by persons of such high 
rank, and the accession of this military force, much raised th« 
courage of the Irish, and made them entertain the resolution 
of invading England, where they believed the spirit of dis- 
affection as prevalent as it appeared to be in Ireland. The 
poverty also under which they labored, made it impossible for 
them to support any longer their new court and army, and 
inspired them with a strong desire of enriching themselves by 
plunder and preferment in England. 



Polycl. Virg. p. 519., 573. 



7.8 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A. D. 148? 

Henry was not ignorant of these intentions of his enemies , 
and he prepared himself for defence. He ordered troops to be 
levied in different parts of the kingdom, and put them under 
the command of the duke of Bedford and earl of Oxford. He 
confined the marquis of Dorset, who, he suspected, would resent 
the injuries suffered by his mother, the queen dowager : and, 
to gratify the people by an appearance of devotion, he made a 
pilgrimage to our lady of Walsingham, famous for miracles ; 
and there offered up prayers for success, and for deliverance 
from his enemies. 

Being informed that Simnel was landed at Foudrey in Lan- 
cashire, he drew together his forces, and advanced towards 
the enemy as far as Coventry. The rebels had entertained 
hopes that the disaffected counties in the north would rise in 
their favor ; but the people in general, averse to join Irish and 
German invaders, convinced of Lambert's imposture, and kept 
in awe by the king's reputation for success and conduct, either 
remained in tranquillity, or gave assistance to the royal army. 
The earl of Lincoln, therefore, who commanded the rebels, 
finding no hopes but in victory, was determined to bring the 
matter to a speedy decision ; and the king, supported by the 
native courage of his temper, and emboldened by a great 
accession of volunteers, who had joined him under the earl of 
Shrewsbury and Lord Strange, declined not the combat. The 
hostile armies met at Stoke, in the county of Nottingham, and 
fought a battle, which was bloody, and more obstinately dis- 
puted than could have been expected from the inequality of 
their force. All the leaders of the rebels were resolved to 
conquer or to perish ; and they inspired their troops with 
like resolution. The Germans also, being veteran and expe- 
rienced soldiers, kept the event long doubtful ; and even the 
Irish, though ill-armed and almost defenceless, showed them 
selves not defective in spirit and bravery. The king's victory 
was purchased with loss, but was entirely decisive. Lincoln, 
Broughton, and Swart perished in the field of battle, with four 
thousand of their followers. As Lovel was never more 
heard of, he was believed to have undergone the same fate. 
Simnel, with his tutor, Simon, was taken prisoner. Simon, 
being a priest, was not tried at law, and was only committed 
to close custody : Simnel was too contemptible to be an 
object either of apprehension or resentment to Henry. He 
was pardoned, and made a scullion in the king's kitchen; 



AD. 1487. | henry vn. *- 

whence he was afterwards advanced to the rank ot a 
falconer.* 

Henry had now leisure to revenge himself on his enemies 
He made a progress into the northern parts, where he gave 
many proofs of his rigorous disposition. A strict inquiry was 
made after those who had assisted or favored the rebels. The 
punishments were not all sanguinary : the king made his 
revenge subservient to his avarice. Heavy fines were levied 
upon the delinquents. The proceedings of the courts, and 
even the courts themselves, were arbitrary. Either the crim- 
inals were tried by commissioners appointed for the purpose, 
or they suffered punishment by sentence of a court-martial. 
And as a rumor had prevailed before the battle of Stoke, that 
the rebels had gained the victory, that the royal army was cut 
in pieces, and that the king himself had escaped by flight, 
Henry was resolved to interpret the belief or propagation of 
this report as a mark of disaffection ; and he punished many 
for that pretended crime. But such in this age was the situ- 
ation of the English government, that the royal prerogative, 
which was but imperfectly restrained during the most peace- 
able periods, was sure, in tumultuous or even suspicious times, 
which frequently recurred, to break all bounds of law, and to 
violate public liberty. 

After the king had gratified his rigor by the punishment ol 
his enemies, he determined to give contentment to the people 
in a point which, though a mere ceremony, was passionately 
desired by them. The queen had been married near two 
years, but had not yet been crowned ; and this affectation of 
delay had given great discontent to the public, and had been 
one principal source of the disaffection which prevailed. The 
king, instructed by experience, now finished the ceremony of 
her coronation ; and to show a disposition still more gracious, 
he restored to liberty the marquis of Dorset, who had been 
able to clear himself of all the suspicions entertained against 
him. 

* Bacon, p. 5S6 Polyd. Virg. p. 574. 



20 KISTOEY OF ENGLAND. [A.D, M88 



CHAPTER XXV. 

HENRY VII. 

[1488. J The king acquired great reputation throughout 
Europe by the vigorous aod prosperous conduct of his domes- 
tic affairs ; but as some iuridents about this time invited him 
to look abroad, and exert himself in behalf of his allies, it 
will be necessary, in order to give a just account of his foreign 
measures, to explain the situation of the neighboring kingdoms ; 
beginning with Scotland, which lies most contiguous. 

The kingdom of Scotland had not yet attained that state 
which distinguishes a civilized monarchy, and which enables 
the government, by the force of its laws and institutions alone, 
without any extraordinary capacity in the sovereign, to main- 
tain itself in order and tranquillity. James III., who now 
filled the throne, was a prince of little industry and of a nar- 
row genius ; and though it behoved him to yield the reins oi 
government to his ministers, he had never been able to make 
any choice which could give contentment both to himself and 
to his people. When he bestowed his confidence on any of 
the principal nobility, he found that they exalted their own 
family to such a height as was dangerous to the prince, and 
gave umbrage to the state : when h<? conferred favor on any 
person of meaner birth, on whose submission he could more 
depend, the barons of his kingdom, enraged at the power of 
an upstart minion, proceeded to the utmost extremities against 
their sovereign. Had Henry entertained the ambition of con- 
quests, a tempting opportunity now offered of reducing that 
kingdom to subjection ; but as he was probably sensible that 
a warlike people, though they might be overrun by reason of 
their domestic divisions, could not be retained in obedience 
without a regular military force, which was then unknown in 
England, he rather intended the renewal of the peace with 
Scotland, and sent an embassy to James for that purpose. But 
the Scots, who never desired a durable peace with Engliud, 
and who deemed their security to consist ^n constantly pre*- 



A..D. 14SS.J henry vn. 2' 

serving themselves in a warlike posture, would not agree to 
more than a seven years' truce, which was accordingly con 
eluded.* 

The European states on the continent were then hastening 
fast to the situation in which they have remained, without any 
material alteration, for near three centuries ; and began to 
unite themselves into one extensive system of policy, which 
comprehended the chief powers of Christendom. Spain, which 
had hitherto been almost entirely occupied within herself, now 
became formidable by the union of Arragon and Castile in 
the persons of Ferdinand and Isabella, who, being princes of 
great capacity, employed their force in enterprises the most 
advantageous to their combined monarchy. The conquest of 
Granada from the Moors was then undertaken, and brought 
near to a happy conclusion. And in that expedition the mil- 
itary genius of Spain was revived ; honor and security were 
attained ; and her princes, no longer kept in awe by a domes- 
tic enemy so dangerous, began to enter into all the transactions 
of Europe, and make a great figure in every war and negoti- 
ation. 

Maximilian, king of the Romans, son j f the emperor Fred- 
erick, had, by his marriage with the heiress of Burgundy, 
acquired an interest in the Netherlands ; and thougn the death 
of his consort had weakened his connections with that country, 
he still pretended to the government as tutor to his son Philip 
and his authority had been acknowledged by Brabant, Hoi 
land, and several of the provinces. But as Flanders and 
Hainault still refused to submit to his regency, and even 
appointed other tutors to Philip, he had been engaged in long 
wars against that obstinate people, and never was able thor 
oughly to subdue their spirit. That he might free himself 
from the opposition of France, he had concluded a peace with 
Lewis XL, and had given his daughter Margaret, then an in- 
fant, in marriage to the dauphin ; together with Artois, Franche 
Compte, and Charolois, as her dowry. But this alliance had 
not produced the desired effect. The dauphin succeeded tc 
the crown of France by the appellation of Charles VIII. ; but 
Maximilian still found the mutinies of the Flemings fomented 
by the intrigues of the court of France. 

France, during the two preceding raigns, had made a 
mighty increase in power and greatness ; and had not othei 

* Polyd. Virg. p. 37.' 



2L IUSTOE.Y OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1488 

states of Europe at the same time received an accession of 
force, it had been impossible to have retained her within hex 
ancient boundaries. Most of the great fiefs, Normandy, 
Champagne, Anjou, Dauphiny, Guienne, Provence, and Bur- 
gundy, had been united to the crown ; the English had been 
expelled from all their conquests ; the authority of the prince 
had been raised to such a height as enabled him to maintain 
law and order ; a considerable military force was kept on 
foot, and the finances were able to support it. Lewis XI., 
indeed, from whom many of these advantages were derived, 
was dead, and had left his son, in early youth and ill-educated, 
to sustain the weight of the monarchy : but having intrusted 
the government to his daughter Anne, lady of Beaujeu, a 
woman of spirit and capacity, the French power suffered no 
check or decline. On the contrary, this princess formed the 
great project, which at last she happily effected, of uniting to 
the crown Brittany, the last and most independent fief of the 
monarchy. 

Francis II., duke of Brittany, conscious of his own inca- 
pacity for government, had resigned himself to the direction 
of Peter Landais, a man of mean birth, more remarkable for 
abilities than for virtue and integrity. The nobles of Brittany, 
displeased with the great advancement of this favorite, had 
even proceeded to disaffection against their sovereign ; and 
after many tumults and disorders, they at last united among 
themselves, and in a violent manner seized, tried, and put to 
death the obnoxious minister. Dreading the resentment of the 
prince for this invasion of his authority, many of them retired 
to France ; others, for protection and safety, maintained a 
secret correspondence with the French ministry, who, observing 
the great dissensions among the Bretons, thought the opportu- 
nity favorable for invading the duchy ; and so much the 
rather as they could cover their ambition under the specious 
pretence of providing for domestic security. 

Lewis, duke of Orleans, first prince of the blood, and pre- 
sumptive heir of the monarchy, had disputed the administra 
don with the lady of Beaujeu ; and though his pretensions had 
been rejected by the states, he still maintained cabals with 
many of the grandees, and laid schemes for subverting the 
authority of that princess. Finding his conspiracies detected, 
he took to arms, and fortified himself in Beaugenci ; but as 
his revolt was precipitate, before his confederates were ready 
to ioin him, he had been obliged to submit, and to receive sunn 



A.D. 1488.] HENRY VII. 23 

conditions as the French ministry were pleased to impos* 
upon him. Actuated, however, by his ambition, and even by 
his fears, he soon retired out of France, and took shelter with 
the duke of Brittany, who was desirous of strengthening him- 
self against the designs of the lady of Beaujeu by the friend- 
ship and credit of the duke of Orleans. This latter prince 
also, perceiving the ascendant which he soon acquired ovei 
the duke of Brittany, had engaged many of his partisans to 
join him at that court, and had ibrmed the design of aggran 
dizing himself by a marriage with Anne, the heir of that 
opulent duchy. 

The barons of Brittany, who saw all favor engrossed by the 
duke of Orleans and his train, renewed a stricter correspond- 
ence with France, and even invited the French king to make 
an invasion on their country. Desirous, however, of preserv- 
ing its independency, they had regulated the number of sue 
cors which France was to send them, and had stipulated that 
no fortified place in Brittany should remain in the possession 
of that monarchy ; a vain precaution, where revolted subjects 
treat with a power so much superior ! The French invaded 
Brittany with forces three times more numerous than those 
which they had promised to the barons ; and advancing into 
the heart of the country, laid siege to Ploermel. To oppose 
them, the duke raised a numerous but ill-disciplined army 
which he put under the command of the duke of Orleans, the 
count of Dunois, and others of the French nobility. The army, 
discontented with this choice, and jealous of their confeder- 
ates, soon disbanded, and left their prince with too small a 
force to keep the field against his invaders. He retired to 
Vannes ; but being hotly pursued by the French, who had 
now made themselves masters of Ploermel, he escaped to 
Nantz ; and the enemy, having previously taken and garri- 
soned Vannes, Dinant, and other places, laid close siege to that 
city. The barons of Brittany, finding their country menaced 
with total subjection, began gradually to withdraw from tin 
French army, and to make peace with their sovereign. 

This desertion, however, of the Bretons discouraged not the 
court of France from pursuing her favorite project of reducing 
Brittany to subjection. The situation of Europe appeared 
favorable to the execution of this design. Maximilian wa? 
indeed engaged in close alliance with the duke of Brittany, 
and had even opened a treaty for marrying his daughter ; bui 
he was on all occasions so indigent, and at that time so di.-qui 



24 fflSTOET OF ENGLAND. [A. D. l45b 

eted bj the mutinies of the Flemings, that little effectual assist* 
ance could be expected from him. Ferdinand was entirely 
occupied in the conquest of Granada ; and it was also known, 
that if France would resign to him Roussillon and Cerdagne, 
to which he had pretensions, she could at any time engage 
him to abandon the interests of Brittany. England, alone, was 
both enabled by her power, and engaged by her interests, to 
support the independency of that duchy ; and the most dan- 
gerous opposition was therefore, by Anne of Beaujeu, expect- 
ed from that quarter. In order to cover her real designs, no 
sooner was she informed of Henry's success against Simnel 
and his partisans, than she despatched ambassadors to the 
court of London, and made prolessions of the greatest trust 
and confidence in that monarch. 

The ambassadors, after congratulating Henry on his late 
victory, and comunicating to him, in the most cordial man 
ner, as to an intimate friend, some successes of their master 
against Maximilian, came in the progress of their discourse to 
mention the late transactions in Brittany. They told him that 
the duke having given protection to French fugitives and 
rebels, the king had been necessitated, contrary to his inten- 
tion and inclination, to carry war into that duchy ; that the 
honor of the crown was interested not to suffer a vassal so far 
to forget his duty to his liege lord ; nor was the security of the 
government less concerned to prevent the consequences of 
this dangerous temerity : that the fugitives were no mean or 
obscure persons ; but among others, the duke of Orleans, first 
prince of the blood, who, finding himself obnoxious to justice 
tor treasonable practices in France, had fled into Brittany ; 
where he still persevered in laying schemes of rebellion 
against his sovereign : that the war being thus, on the part of 
the French monarch, entirely defensive, it would immediately 
cease, when the duke of Brittany, by returning to his duty, 
should remove the causes of it : that their master was sensible 
of the obligations which the duke, in very critical times, had 
conferred on Henry ; but it was known also, that, in times still 
more critical, he or his mercenary counsellors had deserted 
him, and put his life in the utmost hazard : that his sole ref- 
uge in these desperate extremities had been the court of 
France, which not only protected his person, but supplied him 
with men and money, with which, aided by his own vatar and 
conduct, he had been enabled to mount the throne of England ; 
that France in this transaction had, from friendship to Henry, 



A. D. 1488.] henri vn. 26 

acted contrary to what, in a narrow view, might be esteemed 
her own intex - est ; since, instead of an odious tyrant, she had 
contributed to establish on a rival throne a prince endowed with 
6uch virtue and abilities ; and that, as both the justice of the 
cause and the obligations conferred on Henry thus preponder- 
ated on the side of France, she reasonably expected that, if 
the situation of his affairs did not permit him to give her as- 
sistance, he would at least preserve a neutrality between the 
contending parties.* 

This discourse of the French ambassadors was plausible; 
And to give it greater weight, they communicated to Henry, 
as in confidence, their master's intention, after he should have 
settled the difference with Brittany, to lead an army into Italy, 
and make good his pretensions to the kingdom of Naples ; a 
project which, they knew, would give no umbrage to the court 
of England. But all these artifices were in vain employed 
against the penetration of the king. He clearly saw that 
France had entertained the view of subduing Brittany ; but he 
also perceived, that she would meet with great, and, as he 
thought, insuperable difficulties in the execution of her project 
The native force of that duchy, he knew, had always been 
considerable, and had often, without any foreign assistance, 
resisted the power of France ; the natural temper of the 
French nation, he imagined, would make them easily abandon 
any enterprise which required perseverance ; and as the heir 
of the crown was confederated with the duke of Brittany, the 
ministers would be still more remiss in prosecuting a scheme 
which must draw on them his resentment and displeasure. 
Should even these internal obstructions be removed, Maxi- 
milian, whose enmity to France was well known, and who 
now paid his addresses to the heiress of Brittany, would be 
able to make a diversion on the side of Flanders ; nor could 
it be expected that France, if she prosecuted such ambitious 
projects, would be allowed to remain in tranquillity by Ferdi- 
nand and Isabella. Above all, he thought the French court 
could never expect that England, so deeply interested to pre- 
serve the independency of Brittany, so able by her power and 
situation to give effectual and prompt assistance, would permit 
such an accession of force to her rival. He imagined, there- 
fore, that the ministers of France, convinced of the impracti- 
eability of their scheme, would at last embrace pacific views, 

* Bacon, p. 5S9. 
VOL. IJJ — B 



26 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. \A. D. 148 B. 

And would abandon an enterprise so obnoxious tn all th€ 
potentates of Europe. 

This reasoning of Henry was solid, and might justly engage 
him in dilatory and cautious measures : but there entered into 
his conduct another motive, which was apt to draw him beyond 
the just bounds, because founded on a ruling passion. His 
frugality, which by degrees degenerated into avarice, made 
him averse to all warlike enterprises and distant expeditions, 
and engaged him previously to try the expedient of negotia- 
tion. He despatched Urswic, his almoner, a man of address 
and abilities, to make offer of his mediation to the contending 
parties ; an offer which, he thought, if accepted by France, 
would soon lead to a composure of all differences ; if refused 
or eluded, would at least discover the perseverance of that 
court in her ambitious projects. Urswic found the lady of 
Beaujeu, now duchess of Bourbon, engaged in the siege of 
Nantz, and bad the satisfaction to find that his master's offer 
of mediation was readily embraced, and with many expres- 
sions of confidence and moderation. That able princess con- 
cluded, that the duke of Orleans, who governed the coast of 
Brittany, foreseeing that every accommodation must be made 
at his expense, would use all his interest to have Henry's pro- 
posal rejected ; and would by that means make an apology 
for the French measures, and draw on the Bretons the re- 
proach of obstinacy and injustice. The event justified her 
prudence. "When the English ambassador made the same 
offer to the duke of Brittany, he received for answer, in the 
name of that prince, that having so long acted the part of 
protector and guardian to Henry during his youth and adverse 
fortune, he had expected from a monarch of such virtue more 
effectual assistance in his present distresses than a barren offer 
of mediation, which suspended not the progress of the French 
arms : that if Henry's gratitude were not sufficient to engage 
him in such a measure, his prudence, as king of England, 
should discover to him the pernicious consequences attending 
the conquest of Brittany, and its annexation to the crown of 
France : that that kingdom, already too powerful, would be 
enabled, by so great an accession of force, to display, to the 
ruin of England, that hostile disposition which had always 
subsisted between those rival nations : that Brittany, so useful 
an ally, which, by its situation, gave the English an entrance 
into the heart of France, being annexed to that kingdom, 
would be equally enabled from its situation to disturb, eitbei 



A.D. 1488.J henry vii 27 

by piracies or naval armaments, the commerce and peace of 
England : and that if the duke rejected Henry's mediation, if 
proceeded neither from an inclination to a war, which he ex 
perienced to be ruinous to him, nor from a confidence in his 
own force, which he knew to be much inferior to that o{ the 
enemy ; but, on the contrary, from a sense of his present ne- 
cessities, which must engage the king to act the part of his 
confederate, not that of a mediator. 

When this answer was reported to the king, he abandoned 
not the plan which he had formed ; he only concluded that 
some more time was requisite to quell the obstinacy of the 
Bretons, and make them submit to reason. And when he 
learned that the people of Brittany, anxious for their duke's 
safety, had formed a tumultuary army of sixty thousand men, 
and had obliged the French to raise the siege of Nantz, he 
fortified himself the more in his opinion, that the court of 
France would at last be reduced, by multiplied obstacles and 
difficulties, to abandon the project of reducing Brittany to sub- 
jection. He continued, therefore, his scheme of negotiation, 
and thereby exposed himself to be deceived by the artifices 
of the French ministry ; who, still pretending pacific inten- 
tions, sent Lord Bernard Daubigni, a Scotchman of quality, to 
London, and pressed Henry not to be discouraged in offering 
his mediation to the court of Brittany. The king, on his part, 
despatched another embassy, consisting of Urswic, the abbot 
of Abingdon, and Sir Richard Tonstal, who carried new pro- 
posals for an amicable treaty. No effectual succors, mean- 
while, were provided for the distressed Bretons. Lord Wood- 
ville, brother to the queen dowager, having asked leave to 
raise underhand a body of volunteers, and to transport them 
into Brittany, met with a refusal from the king, who was de- 
sirous of preserving the appearance of a strict neutrality. That 
nobleman, however, still persisted in his purpose. He went 
over to the Isle of Wight, of which he was governor, levied 
a body of four hundred men ; and having at last obtained, aa 
is supposed, the secret permission of Henry, sailed with them 
to Brittany. This enterprise proved fatal to the leader, and 
brought small relief to the unhappy duke. The Bretons rashly 
engaged in a general action with the French at St. Aubin, and 
were discomfited. Woodville and all the English were put to '■ 
the sword, together with a body of Bretons, who had been 
accoutred in the garb of Englishmen in order to strike a 
greater terror into the French, to whom the martial proweea 



28 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1483 

of that nation was always formidable.* The duke of Orleans 
the prince of Orange, and many other persons of rank were 
taken prisoners; and the military force of Brittany was totally 
broken. The death of the duke, which followed soon after, 
threw affairs into still greater confusion, and seemed to threat- 
en the state with a final subjection. 

Though the king did not prepare against these events, so 
hurtful to the interests of England, with sufficient vigor and 
precaution, he had not altogether overlooked them. Peter- 
mined to maintain a pacific conduct, as far as the situation of 
affairs would permit, he yet knew the warlike temper of his 
subjects, and observed that their ancient and inveterate ani- 
mosity to France was now revived by the prospect of this great 
accession to her power and grandeur. He resolved, therefore, 
to make advantage of this disposition, and draw some supplies 
from the people, on pretence of giving assistance to the duke 
of Brittany. He had summoned a parliament at Westmin- 
ster ; t and he soon persuaded them to grant him a considera- 
ble subsidy. | But this supply, though voted by parliament, 
involved the king in unexpected difficulties. The counties of 
Durham and York, always discontented with Henry's govern- 
ment, and further provoked by the late oppressions under 
which they had labored, after the suppression of Simnel's 
rebellion, resisted the commissioners who were appointed to 
levy the tax. The commissioners, terrified with this appear 
ance of sedition, made application to the earl of Northumber 
land, and desired of him advice and assistance in the execu 
tion of their office. That nobleman thought the matter 01 
importance enough to consult the king ; who, unwilling to 
yield to the humors of a discontented populace, and foreseeing 
the pernicious consequence of such a precedent, renewed his 
orders for strictly levying the imposition. Northumberland 
summoned together the justices and chief freeholders, and 
delivered the king's commands in the most imperious terms, 
which, he thought, would enforce obedience, but which tended 
only to provoke the people, and make them believe him the 
adviser of those orders which he delivered to tham. § They 

* Argentre Hist. <le Bretagns, liv. xii. 

t 9th November, 1487. 

t Polyd. Vi'rg. (p. 579) says, that this imposition was a capitation 
tax : the other historians say, it was a tax of two shillings in the 
pound. 

$ Bacon, p 595. 



A D. 1489.] HENRY VII. 29 

flew to arms, attacked Northumberland in his house, and put 
him to death. Having incurred such deep guilt, their muti- 
nous humor prompted them to declare against the king him- 
self; and being instigated by John A chamber, a seditious 
fellow of low birth, they chose Sir John Egremond their leader, 
and prepared themselves for a vigorous resistance. Henry 
was not dismayed with an insurrection so precipitate and ill 
supported. He immediately levied a force, which he put 
under the command of the earl of Surrey, whom he had freed 
from confinement and received into favor. His intention was 
to send down these troops, in order to check the progress of 
the rebels ; while he himself should follow with a greater body, 
which would absolutely insure success. But Smrey thought 
himself strong enough to encounter alone a raw and unarmed 
multitude ; and he succeeded in the attempt. The rebels 
were dissipated ; John Achamber was taken prisoner, and 
afterwards executed with some of his accomplices ; Sir John 
Egremond fled to the duchess of Burgundy, who gave him 
protection ; the greater number of the rebels received a 
pardon. 

Henry had probably expected, when he obtained this grant 
from parliament, that he should be able to terminate the affair 
of Brittany by negotiation, and that he might thereby fill his 
coffers with the money levied by the imposition. But as the 
distresses of the Bretons still multiplied, and became every 
day more urgent, he found himself under the necessity of 
taking more vigorous measures, in order to support them. 
On the death of the duke, the French had revived some anti- 
quated claims to the dominion of the duchy ; and as the duke 
of Orleans was now captive in France, their former pretence 
for hostilities could no longer serve as a cover to their ambi- 
tion. The king resolved therefore to engage as auxiliary to 
Brittany ; and to consult the interests, as well as desires oi his 
people, by opposing himself to the progress of the French 
power. Besides entering into a league with Maximilian, and 
another with Ferdinand, which were distant resources, he 
levied a body of troops, to the number of six thousand men, 
with an intention of transporting them into Brittany. Still 
anxious, however, for the repayment of his expenses, he con 
eluded a treaty with the young duchess, [1439. J by which she 
engaged to deliver into his hands two seaport towns, there to 
remain till she phould entirely refund the charges oi tb? 



SO HISTORY OF ENGLANL [AD 14JU 

armamen;.* Though he engaged for the stivice of these 
troops during the space of ten months only, yet was the 
duchess obliged, by the necessity of her affairs, to submit to 
such rigid conditions, imposed by an ally so much con- 
cerned in interest to protect her. The forces arrived under 
the command of Lord Willoughby of Broke ; and made the 
Bretons, during some time, masters of the field. The French 
retired into their garrisons ; and expected by dilatory measures 
to waste the fire of the English, and disgust them with the 
enterprise. The scheme was well laid, and met with success. 
Lord Broke found such discord and confusion in the counsels 
of Brittany, that no measures could be concerted lor any 
undertaking ; no supply obtained ; no provisions, carriages, 
artillery, or military stores procured. The whole court was 
rent into factions : no one minister had acquired the ascendant: 
and whatever project was formed by one, was sure to be 
traversed by another. The English, disconcerted in everj 
enterprise by these animosities ami uncertain counsels, re- 
turned home as soon as the time of their service was elapsed ; 
leaving only a small garrison in those towns which had been 
consigned into their hands. During their stay in Brittany, 
they had only contributed still further to waste the country ; 
and by their departure, they left it entirely at the mercy of 
the enemy. So feeble was the succor which Henry in this 
important conjuncture afforded his ally, whom the invasion of 
a foreign enemy, concurring with domestic dissensions, had 
reduced to the utmost distress. 

The great object of the domestic dissensions in Brittany 
was the disposal of the young duchess in marriage. The 
cnareschal Rieux, favored by Henry, seconded the suit of the 
lord D'Albret, who led some forces to her assistance. The 
chancellor Montauban, observing the aversion of the duchess 
to this suitor, insisted that a petty prince, such as D'Albret, 
was unable to support Anne in her present extremities ; and 
he recommended some more powerful alliance, particularly 
that of Maximilian, king of the Romans. [1490.] This party 
at last prevailed ; the marriage with Maximilian was cele- 
brated by proxy ; and the duchess thenceforth assumed the 
title of queen of the Romans. But this magnificent appella 
iion was all she gained by her marriage. Maximilian, desti- 
tute of troops and money, and embarrassed with the continuaJ 



* Va Tillet, Recueil des Traites. 



A. D. 1490. J henry vn. 31 

-evolts of the Flemings, could send no succor to his distressed 
consort ; while D'Albret, enraged at the preference given to 
his rival, deserted her cause, and received the French into 
Nantz, the most important place in the duchy both for strength 
and riches. 

The French court now began to change their scheme with 
regard to the subjection of Brittany. Charles had formerly 
been affianced to Margaret, daughter of Maximilian ; who, 
though too young for the consummation of her marriage, had 
been sent to Paris to be educated, and at this time bore the 
title of queen of France. Besides the rich dowry which she 
brought the king, she was, after her brother Philip, then in 
early youth, heir to all the dominions of the house of Burgun- 
dy; and seemed in many respects the most proper match that 
could be chosen for the young monarch. These circumstances 
had so blinded both Maximilian and Henry, that they nev§f 
suspected any otber intentions in the French court ; nor were 
they able to discover that engagements, seemingly so advan- 
tageous and so solemnly entered into, could be infringed and 
eet aside. But Charles began to perceive that the conquest 
}f Brittany, in opposition to the natives, and to all the great 
powers of Christendom, would prove a difficult enterprise ; 
and that even if he should overrun the country and make 
himself master of the fortresses, it would be impossible for 
him long to retain possession of them. The marriage alone 
of the duchess could fully reannex that fief to the crown ; 
and the present and certain enjoyment of so considerable a 
territory, seemed preferable to the prospect of inheriting the 
dominions of the house of Burgundy ; a prospect which became 
every day more distant and precarious. Above all, the mar 
riage of Maximilian and Anne appeared destructive to the 
grandeur and even security of the French monarchy ; while 
mat prince, possessing Flanders on the one hand, and Brittany 
on the other, might thus, from both quarters, make inroads 
into the heart of the country. The only remedy for these 
evils was therefore concluded to be the dissolution of the two 
marriages, which had been celebrated, but not consummated; 
and the espousal of the duchess of Brittany by the king of 
France. 

It was necessary that this expedient, which had not been 
foreseen by any court in Europe, and which they were all 
bo much interested to oppose, should be kept a profound 
lecret, and should be discovered to the world only by the full 



^2 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1491. 

execution of it. The measures of the French ministry in the 
conduct of this delicate enterprise were wise and political. 
While they pressed Brittany with all the rigors of war, they 
secretly gained the count of Dunois, who possessed great 
authority with the Bretons ; and having also engaged in their 
interests the prince of Orange, cousin-german to the duchess, 
they gave him his liberty, and sent him into Brittany. These 
partisans, supported by other emissaries of France, prepai'ed 
the minds of men for the great revolution projected, and dis- 
played, though still with many precautions, all the advantages 
of a union with the French monarchy. They represented to 
the barons of Brittany, that their country, harassed during so 
many years with perpetual war, had need of some repose, 
and of a solid and lasting peace with the only power that 
was formidable to them : that their alliance with Maximilian 
was not able to afford them even present protection ; and, by 
closely uniting them to a power which was rival to the great- 
ness of France, fixed them in perpetual enmity with that 
potent monarchy : that their vicinity exposed them first to 
the inroads of the enemy ; and the happiest event which, 
in such a situation, could befall them, would be to attain a 
peace, though by a final subjection to France, and by the loss 
of that liberty transmitted to them from their ancestors : and 
that any other expedient, compatible with the honor of the 
state and their duty to their sovereign, was preferable to a 
scene of such disorder and devastation. 

These suggestions had influence with the Bretons : but the 
chief difficulty lay in surmounting the prejudices of the young 
duchess herself. That princess had imbibed a strong prepos- 
session against the French nation, particularly against Charles, 
the author of all the calamities which, from her earliest 
infancy, had befallen her family. She had also fixed her 
affections on Maximilian ; and as she now deemed him her 
husband, she could not. she thought, without incurring the 
greatest guilt, and violating the most solemn engagements, 
contract a marriage with any other person. [1491.] In order 
to overcome her obstinacy, Charles gave the duke of Orleans 
his liberty ; who, though formerly a suitor to the duchess, 
was now contented to ingratiate himself with the king, by 
employing in his favor all the interest which he still possessed 
in Brittany. Mareschal Bieux and Chancellor Montauban 
were reconciled by his mediation ; and these rival ministers 
now concurred with the prince of Orange and the count of 



A. D 1 49 1 . 1 edward vn. 33 

Dunois, in pressing the conclusion of a marriage with Charles 
By their suggestion, Charles advanced with a powerful army, 
and invested Rennes, at that time the residence of the 
duchess ; who, assailed on all hands, and finding none to 
support her in her inflexibility, at last opened the gates of 
the city, and agreed to espouse the king of France. She was 
married at Langey, in Touraine ; conducted to St. Denis, 
where she was crowned ; thence made her entry into Paiis, 
amidst the joyful acclamations of the people, who regarded 
this marriage as the most prosperous event that could have 
befallen the monarchy. 

The triumph and success of Charles was the most sensible 
mortification to the king of the Romans. He had lost a con- 
siderable territory, which he thought he had acquired, and an 
accomplished princess, whom he had espoused ; he was af- 
fronted in the person of his daughter Margaret, who was sent 
back to him, after she had been treated during some years as 
queen of France ; he had reason to reproach himself with his 
own supine security, in neglecting the consummation of his mar- 
riage, which was easily practicable for him, and which would 
have rendered the tie indissoluble : these considerations threw 
him into the most violent rage, which he vented in veiy inde- 
cent expressions ; and he threatened France with an invasion 
from the united arms of Austria, Spain, and England. 

The king of England had also just reason to reproach him 
self with misconduct in this important transaction ; and though 
the affair had terminated in a manner which he could not 
precisely foresee, his negligence, in leaving his most usei'ul 
ally so long exposed to the invasion of superior power, could 
not but appear on reflection the result of timid caution and 
narrow politics. As he valued himself on his extensive 
foresight and profound judgment, the ascendant acquired over 
him by a raw youth, such as Charles, could not but give him 
the highest displeasure, and prompt him to seek vengeance, 
after all remedy for his miscarriage was become absolutely 
impracticable. But he was further actuated by avarice, a 
motive still more predominant with him than either pride oi 
revenge ; and he sought, even from his present disappoint- 
ments, the gratification of this ruling passion. On pretence 
of a French war, he issued a commission for levying a " be- 
nevolence" on his people ; * a species of taxation which had 

* Rymer, vol. xi . p. 446. Bacon says that the bcnevoicnce wa» 
•evieil with consent of parliament, which is a mistake 



34 HISTORY OF ENGLAND [A. D. 1491 

been abolished by a recent law of Richard III. This violence 
(for such it really was) fell chiefly on the commercial pavrt 
of the nation, who were possessed of the ready money. 
London alone contributed to the amount of near ten thousand 
pounds. Archbishop Morton, the chancellor, instructed the 
commissioners to employ a dilemma, in which every one 
might be comprehended : if the persons applied to lived fru- 
gally, they were told that their parsimony must necessarily 
have enriched them ; if their method of living were splendid 
and hospitable, they were concluded to be opulent on account 
of their expenses. This device was by some called Chancel- 
lor Morton's fork, by others bis crutch. 

So little apprehensive was the king of a parliament on 
account of his levying this arbitrary imposition, that he soon 
after summoned that assembly to meet at Westminster ; and 
he evf»n expected to enrich himself further by working on theii 
passions and prejudices. He knew the displeasure which the 
English had conceived against France on account of the ac- 
quisition of Brittany ; and he took care to insist on that topic, 
in the speech which he himself pronounced to the parliament 
He told them, that France, elated with her late successes, had 
even proceeded to a contempt of England, and had refused to 
pay the tribute which Lewis XL had stipulated to Edward IV. : 
that it became so warlike a nation as the English to be roused 
by this indignity, and not to limit their pretensions merely to 
repelling the present injury : that, for his part, he was deter- 
mined to lay claim to the crown itself of France, and to main- 
tain by force of arms so just a title, transmitted to him by his 
gallant ancestors : that Crecy, Poictiers, and Azincour were 
sufficient to instruct them in their superiority over the enemy ; 
nor did he despair of adding new names to the glorious cata- 
logue : that a king of France had been prisoner in London, 
and a king of England had been crowned at Paris ; events 
which should animate them to an emulation of like glory with 
that which had been enjoyed by their forefathers : that the 
domestic dissensions of England had been the sole cause of 
her losing these foreign dominions ; and her present internal 
union would be the effectual means of recovering them : 
that where such lasting honor was in view, and such an im- 
portant acquisition, it became not brave men to repine at the 
advance of a little treasure : and that, for his part, he was 
determined to make the war maintain itself; and hoped, by 



A D. 1492.} HENRY V1L 35 

the invasion of so opulent a kingdom as France, to increase 
rather than diminish the riches of the nation.* 

Notwithstanding these magnificent vaunts of the king, all 
men of penetration concluded, from the personal character of 
the man, and still more from the situation of affairs, that he 
had no serious intention of pushing the war to such extremities 
as he pretended. France was not now in the same condition 
as when such successful inroads had been made upon her by 
former kings of England. The great fiefs were united to the 
crown ; the princes of the blood were desirous of tranquillity ; 
the nation abounded with able captains and veteran soldiers ; 
and the general aspect of her affairs seemed rather to threaten 
her neighbors, than to promise them any considerable advan- 
tages against her. The levity and vain-glory of Maximilian 
were supported by his pompous titles ; but were ill seconded 
by military power, and still less by any revenue proportioned 
to them. The politic Ferdinand, while he made a show of 
war, was actually negotiating for peace ; and rather than ex- 
pose himself to any hazard, would accept of very moderate 
concessions from France. Even England was not free from 
domestic discontents ; and in Scotland, the death of Henry's 
friend and ally, James III., who had been murdered by his 
rebellious subjects, had made way for the succession of his son, 
Jarnes IV., who was devoted to the French interest, and would 
surely be alarmed at any important progress of the English 
arms. But all these obvious considerations had no influence 
on the parliament. Inflamed by the ideas of subduing France, 
and of enriching themselves by the spoils of that kingdom, they 
gave into the snare prepared for them, and voted the supply 
which the king demanded. Two fifteenths were granted him ; 
and the better to enable his vassals and nobility to attend him, 
an act was passed, empowering them to sell their estates, with- 
out paying any fines for alienation. 

[1492.] The nobility were universally seized with a desire 
of military glory; and having credulously swallowed all the 
boasts of the king, they dreamed of no less than carrying their 
triumphant banners to the gates of Paris and putting the crown 
if France on the head of their sovereign. Many of them bor- 
rowed large sums, or sold oft tianors, that they might appear 
in the field with greater splendor, and lead out their follow- 
ers in more complete order. The king crossed the sea, and 

* Bacon, p. 601. 



36 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. t A. D. 1492 

arrived at Calais on the sixth of October, with an army of 
twenty five thousand foot, and sixteen hundred horse, which 
he put under the command of the duke of Bedford and the 
earl of Oxford : but as some inferred, from his opening the 
campaign in so late a season, that peace would soon be con- 
cluded between the crowns, he was desirous of suggesting a 
contrary inference. " He had come over," he said, " to make 
an entire conquest of France, which was not the work of one 
summer. It was therefore of no consequence at what season 
he began the invasion ; especially as he had Calais ready for 
winter quarters." As if he had seriously intended this enter- 
prise, he instantly marched into the enemy's country, and laid 
siege to Boulogne : but notwithstanding this appearance of 
hostility, there had been secret advances made towards peace 
above three months before ; and commissioners had been 
appointed to treat of the terms. The better to reconcile the 
minds of men to this unexpected measure, the king's ambassa- 
dors arrived in the camp from the Low Countries, and informed 
him, that Maximilian was in no readiness to join him ; noi 
was any assistance to be expected from that quarter. Soon 
after, messengers came from Spain, and brought news of a 
peace concluded between that kingdom and France, in which 
Charles had made a cession of the counties of Roussillon and 
Cerdagne to Ferdinand. Though these articles of intelligence 
were carefully dispersed throughout the army, the king was 
still apprehensive lest a sudden peace, after such magnificent 
promises and high expectations, might expose him to reproach. 
In order the more effectually to cover the intended measures, 
he secretly engaged the marquis of Dorset, together with 
twenty-three persons of distinction, to present him a petition 
for agreeing to a treaty with France. The pretence was 
founded on the late season of the year, the difficulty of sup- 
plying the army at Calais during winter, the obstacles which 
arose in the siege of Boulogne, the desertion of those allies 
whose assistance had been most relied on : events which might, 
all of them, have been foreseen before the embarkation of the 
forces. 

In consequence of these preparatory steps, the bishop of 
Exeter and Lord Daubeney were sent to confer at Estaplea 
with the mareschal de Cordes, and to put the last hand to the 
treaty. A few days sufficed for that purpose : the demands 
of Henry wjre wholly pecuniary ; and the king of France, 
who deemed the peaceable possession of Brittany an equiva 



A.D. 1492.] HENRY VII. 3f 

lent for any sum, and who was all on fire for his projected 
expedition into Italy, readily agreed to the proposals made 
him. He engaged to pay Henry seven hundred and forty-five 
thousand crowns, near four hundred thousand pounds sterling 
of our present money ; partly as a reimbursement of the suras 
advanced to Brittany, partly as arrears of the pension due to 
Edward IV. And he stipulated a yearly pension to Henry 
and his heirs of twenty-five thousand crowns. Thus the king, 
as remarked by his historian, made profit upon his subjects 
for the war, and upon his enemies for the peace * And the 
people agreed that he had fulfilled his promise, when he said to 
the parliament that he would make the war maintain itself. 
Maximilian was, if he pleased, comprehended in Henry's 
treaty ; but he disdained to be in any respect beholden to an 
ally, of whom, he thought, he had reason to complain : ho 
made a separate peace with France, and obtained restitution 
of Artois, Franche Compte, and Charolois, which had been 
ceded as the dowry of his daughter when she was affianced to 
the king of France. 

The peace concluded between England and France was the 
more likely to continue, because Charles, full of ambition and 
youthful hopes, bent all his attention to the side of Italy, and 
soon after undertook the conquest of Naples : an enterprise 
which Henry regarded with the greater indifFerence, as Naples 
lay remote from him, and France had never, in any age, been 
successful in that quarter. The king's authority was fully 
established at home ; and every rebellion which had been at- 
tempted against him, had hitherto tended only to confound his 
enemies, and consolidate his power and influence. His repu- 
tation for policy and conduct was daily augmenting ; his treas- 
ures had increased even from the most unfavorable events ; 
the hopes of all pretenders to his throne were cut off", as weli 
by his marriage as by the issue which it had brought him. 
In this prosperous situation, the king had reason to flatter him- 
self with the prospect of durable peace and tranquillity ; but 
his inveterate and indefatigable enemies, whom he had wan- 
tonly provoked, raised him an adversary, who long kept him 
in inquietude, and sometimes even brought him into danger. 

The duchess of Burgundy, full of resentment for the de- 
pression of her family and its partisans, rather irritated than 
discouraged by the ill success of her past enterprises, wai 

* Bacon, p. G05. Polyd. Virg. p. 586. 



38 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A.D. 1492 

determined at least to disturb that government which she 
found it so difficult to subvert. By means of her emissaries, 
she propagated a report that her nephew, Richard Plantage- 
net, duke of York, had escaped from the Tower when his 
elder brother was murdered, and that he still lay somewhere 
concealed : and finding this rumor, however improbable, to 
be greedily received by the people, she had been looking out 
for some young man proper to personate that unfortunate 
prince. 

There was one Osbec, or Warbec, a renegado Jew of 
Tournay, who had been carried by some business to London 
in the reign of Edward TV., and had there a son born to him 
Having had opportunities of being known to the king, and 
obtaining his favor, he prevailed with that prince, whose man- 
ners were very affable, to stand godfather to his son, to whom 
he gave the name of Peter, corrupted, after the Flemish man- 
ner, into Peterkin, or Perkin. It was by some believed that 
Edward, among his amorous adventures, had a secret com 
merce with Warbec's wife ; and people thence accounted foi 
that resemblance which was afterwards remarked between 
young Perkin and that monarch* Some years after the birth 
of this child, Warbec returned to Tournay ; where Perkin, his 
son, did not long remain, but by different accidents was car- 
ried from place to place, and his birth and fortunes became 
thereby unknown, and difficult to be traced by the most dili- 
gent inquiry. The variety of his adventures had happily 
favored the natural versatility and sagacity of his genius ; and 
he seemed to be a youth perfectly fitted to act any part, or 
assume any character. In this light he had been represented 
to the duchess of Burgundy, who, struck with the concurrence 
of so many circumstances suited to her purpose, desired to D6 
made acquainted with the man, on whom she already began 
to ground her hopes of success. She found him to exceed her 
most sanguine expectations ; so ccmely did he appear in his 
person, so graceful in his air, so courtly in his address, so full 
of docility and good sense in his behavior and conversatiou 
The lessons necessary to be taught him, in order to his per- 
sonating the duke of York, were soon learned by a youth of 
Buch quick apprehension ; but as the season seemed not then 
"avorable for their enterprise, Margaret, in order the better to 
conceal him, sent him, under the care of Lady Brampton into 
Portugal, where he remained a year unknown to all the world 

* P>:v-on, p. 60C 



A.D. 1492.| aenry vn. 39 

The war, which was then ready to hreak out between France 
and England, seemed to afford a proper opportunity for the 
iiscovery of this new phenomenon ; and Ireland, which still 
retained its attachment to the house of York, was chosen as 
the proper place for his first appearance.* He landed at 
Cork ; and immediately assuming the name of Richard Plan- 
tagenet, drew to him partisans among that credulous people 
He wrote letters to the earls of Desmond and Kildare, inviting 
them to join his party : he dispersed every where the strange 
intelligence of his escape from the cruelty of his uncle Rich- 
ard : and men, fond of every thing new and wonderful, began 
to make him the general subject of their discourse, and even 
the object of their favor. 

The news soon reached France, and Charles, prompted by 
the secret solicitations of the duchess of Burgundy, and the 
intrigues of one Frion, a secretary of Henry's, who had de- 
serted his service, sent Perkin an invitation to repair to him 
at Paris. He received him with all the remarks of regard 
due to the duke of York ; settled on him a handsome pension, 
assigned him magnificent lodgings, and in order to provide at 
once for his dignity and security, gave him a guard for his 
person, of which Lord Congresal accepted the office of cap- 
tain. The French courtiers readily embraced a fiction which 
their sovereign thought it his interest to adopt : Perkin, both 
by his deportment and personal qualities, supported the pre- 
possession which was spread abroad of his royal pedigree : 
and the whole kingdom was full of the accomplishments, as 
well as the singular adventures and misfortunes, of the young 
Plantagenet. Wonders of this nature are commonly aug- 
mented at a distance. From France the admiration and 
credulity diffused themselves into England : Sir George Nevil, 
Sir John Taylor, and above a hundred gentlemen more, came 
to Paris, in order to offer their services to the supposed duke 
of York, and to share his fortunes : and the impostor had now 
the appearance of a court attending him, and began to enter 
tain hopes of final success in his undertakings. 

When peace was concluded between France and England 
at Estaples, Henry applied to have Perkin put into his hands ; 
but Charles, resolute not to betray a young man, of whatevei 
birth, whom he had invited into his kingdom, would agree only 
to dismiss him. The pretended Richard retired to the duchesa 



* Poljii. Virg. p. 5? ►. 



40 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. It/3 

of Burgundy, and craving her protection and assistance, 
offered to lay before her all the proofs of that birth to which 
he laid claim. The princess affected ignorance of his 
pretensions ; even put on the appearance of distrust ; and 
having, as she said, been already deceived by Simnel, she 
was determined never again to be seduced by any impostor. 
She desired before all the world to be instructed in his reasons 
for assuming the name which he bore ; seemed to examine 
every circumstance with the most scrupulous nicety ; put 
many particular questions to him ; affected astonishment at his 
answers ; and at last, after long and severe scrutiny, burst out 
into joy and admiration at his wonderful deliverance, embraced 
him as her nephew, the true image of Edward, the sole heir 
of the Plantagenets, and the legitimate successor to the Eng- 
lish throne. [1493.] She immediately assigned him an equi- 
page suited to his pretended birth ; appointed him a guard of 
thirty halberdiers ; engaged every one to pay court to him , 
and on all occasions honored him with the appellation of the 
White Rose of England. The Flemings, moved by the author- 
ity which Margaret, both from her rank and personal charac- 
ter, enjoyed among them, readily adopted the fiction of Per- 
kin's royal descent : no surmise of his true birth was as yet 
heard of : little contradiction was made to the prevailing opin- 
ion : and the English, from their great communication with 
the Low Countries, were every day more and more prepossess- 
ed in favor of the impostor. 

It was not the populace alone of England that gave credit 
to Perkin's pretensions. Men of the highest birth and quality, 
disgusted at Henry's government, by which they found the 
nobility depressed, began to turn their eyes towards the new 
claimant ; and some of them even entered into a correspond- 
ence with him. Lord Fitzwater, Sir Simon Mountfort, Sir 
Thomas Thwaites, betrayed their inclination towards him : Sir 
William Stanley himself', lord chamberlain, who had been so 
active in raising Henry to the throne, moved either by blind 
credulity or a restless ambition, entertained the project of a 
revolt in favor of his enemy.* Sir Robert Clifford and William 
Barley were still more open in their measures : they went 
over to Flanders, were introduced by the duchess of Burgundy 
to the acquaintance of Perkin, and made him a tender of then 
services. Clifford wrote back to England, that he knew per 



* Baoon. n. flOS. 



A.D 1493.1 henry vn. 41 

fectly the person of Richard, duke of York, that this youig 
man was undoubtedly that prince himself, and that no circum- 
stance of his story was exposed to the least difficulty. Such 
positive intelligence, conveyed by a person of rank and 
character, was sufficient, with many to put the matter beyond 
question, and excited the attention and wonder even of the 
most indifferent. The whole nation was held in suspense ; a 
regular conspiracy was formed against the king's authority 
and a correspondence settled between the malecontents in 
Flanders and those in England. 

The king was informed of all these particulars ; but agree 
ably to his character, which was both cautious and resolute 
lie proceeded deliberately, though steadily, in counterworking 
the projects of his enemies. His first object was to ascertain 
the death of the real duke of York, and to confirm the 
opinion that had always prevailed with regard to that event. 
Five persons had been employed by Richard in the murder 
of his nephews, or could give evidence with regard to it ; Sir 
James Tyrrel, to whom he had committed the government 
of the Tower for that purpose, and who had seen the dead 
princes ; Forrest, Dighton, and Slater, who perpetrated the 
crime ; and the priest who buried the bodies. Tyrrel and 
Dighton alone were alive, and they agreed in the same story ; 
but as the priest was dead, and as the bodies were supposed 
to have been removed by Richard's orders from the place 
where they were first interred, and could not now be found, 
it was not in Henry's power to put the fact, so much as he 
wished, beyond all doubt and controversy. 

He met at first with more difficulty, but was in the end 
more successful, in detecting who this wonderful person was 
that thus boldly advanced pretensions to his crown. He dis 
persed his spies all over Flanders and England ; he engaged 
many to pretend that they had embraced Perkin's party ; he 
directed them to insinuate themselves into the confidence of 
the young man's friends ; in proportion as they conveyed 
intelligence of any conspirator, he bribed his retainers, his 
domestic servants, nay, sometimes his confessor, and by these 
means traced up some other confederate : Clifford himself he 
engaged, by the hope of rewards and pardon, to betray the 
secrets committed to him ; the more trust he gave to any ot 
his spies, the higher resentment did he feign against them , 
some of them he even caused to be publicly anathematized, 
in. order the better to procure them the confidence of h*« 



42 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A. D. 1494. 

enemies : and in the issue, the whole plan of the conspiracy 
was clearly laid before him ; and the pedigree, adventures, 
life, and conversation of the pretended duke of York. This 
latter part of the story was immediately published for the 
satisfaction of the nation : the conspirators he reserved for a 
dower and surer vengeance. 

[1494.] Meanwhile he remonstrated with the archduke 
Philip, on account of the countenance and protection which 
was afforded in his dominions to so infamous an impostor ; 
contrary to treaties subsisting between the sovereigns, and to 
the mutual amity which had so long been maintained by the 
subjects of both states. Margaret had interest enough to get 
his application rejected ; on pretence that Philip had nc 
authority over the demesnes of the duchess dowager. And 
the king, in. resentment of this injury, cut off all commerce 
with the Low Countries, banished the Flemings, and recalled 
his own subjects from these provinces. Philip retaliated by 
like edicts ; but Henry knew, that so mutinous a people as the 
Flemings would not long bear, in compliance with the humors 
of their prince, to be deprived of the beneficial branch of 
commerce which they carried on with England. 

He had it in his power to inflict more effectual punishment 
on his domestic enemies ; and when his projects were suffi- 
ciently matured, he failed not to make them feel the effects 
of his resentment. Almost in the same instant he arrested 
Fitzwater, Mountfort, and Thwaites, together with William 
Daubeney, Robert Ratcliff, Thomas Cressenor, and Thomas 
Astwood. All these were arraigned, convicted, and con- 
demned for high treason, in adhering and promising aid to 
Perkin. Mountfort, Ratcliff, and Daubeney were immediatelj 
executed : Fitzwater was sent over to Calais, and detained in 
custody ; but being detected in practising on his keeper for an 
escape, he soon after underwent the same fate. The rest 
were pardoned, together with William Worseley, dean of St. 
Paul's, and some others, who had been accused and examined, 
but not brought to public trial.* 

Greater and more solemn preparations were deemed requi- 
site for the trial of Stanley, lord chamberlain, whose authority 
in the nation, whose domestic connections with the king, as 
well as his former services, seemed to secure him against 
any accusation or punishment. Clifford was directed to come 



* Polyd Virg. p. 592. 



A. t». 1495. J henry vn. 4> 

over privately to England, and to throw himself at the king's 
feet while he sat in council ; craving pardon for past offences, 
and offering to atone for them by any services which should 
be required of him. Henry then told him, that the best proof 
he could give of penitence, and the only service he could now 
render him, was the full confession of his guilt, and the dis- 
covery of all his accomplices, however distinguished by rank 
or character. Encouraged by this exhortation, Clifford accused 
Stanley, then present, as his chief abettor ; and offered to lay 
before the council the full proof of his guilt. Stanley him- 
self could not discover more surprise than was affected by 
Henry on the occasion. He received the intelligence as 
absolutely false and incredible ; that a man, to whom he was 
in a great measure beholden for his crown, and even for his 
life ; a man, to whom, by every honor and favor, he had 
endeavored to express his gratitude ; whose brother, the earl 
of Derby, was his own father-in-law ; to whom he had even 
committed the trust of his person, by creating him lord 
chamberlain : that this man, enjoying his full confidence and 
affection, not actuated by any motive of discontent or appre- 
hension, should engage in a conspiracy against him. Clifford 
was therefore exhorted to weigh well the consequences of his 
accusation ; but as he persisted in the same positive assevera- 
tions, Stanley was committed to custody, and was soon after 
examined before the council.* He denied not the guilt 
imputed to him by Clifford ; he did not even endeavor much 
to extenuate it ; whether he thought that a frank and open 
confession would serve as an atonement, or trusted to his 
present connections and his former services for pardon and 
security. But princes are often apt to regard great services 
as a ground of jealousy, especially if accompanied with a 
craving and restless disposition in the person who has per- 
formed them. The general discontent also, and mutinous 
humor of the people, seemed to require some great example 
of severity. And as Stanley was one of the most opulent 
subjects in the kingdom, being possessed of above three 
thousand pounds a year in land, and forty thousand marks in 
plate and money, besides other property of great value, the 
prospect of so rich a forfeiture was deemed no small motive foi 
Henry's proceeding to extremities against him. [1495. J Aftei 
lix weeks' delay, which was interposed in order to show that 

* Bacon, p. 611. Pulyd. Virg. p. 593. 



44 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. fA.D. 1495 

the king was restrained by doubts and scruples, the prisoner 
was brought to his trial, condemned, and presently aftei 
beheaded. Historians are not agreed with regard to the 
crime which was proved against him. The general report is, 
that he should have said in confidence to Clifford, that if he 
were sure the young man who appeared in Flanders was 
really son to King Edward, he never would bear arms against 
him. The sentiment might disgust Henry, as implying a 
preference of the house of York to that of Lancaster ; but 
could scarcely be the ground, even in those arbitrary times, 
of a sentence of high treason against Stanley. It is more 
pi'obable, therefore, as is asserted by some historians, that he 
had expressly engaged to assist Perkin, and had actually sent 
him some supply of money. 

The fate of Stanley made great impression on the kingdom, 
and struck all the partisans of Perkin with the deepest dismay. 
From Clifford's desertion, they found that all their secrets were 
betrayed ; and as it appeared that Stanley, while he seemed 
to live in the greatest confidence with the king, had been 
continually surrounded by spies, who reported and registered 
every action in which he was engaged, nay, every word which 
fell from him, a general distrust took place, and all mutual 
confidence was destroyed, even among intimate friends and 
acquaintance. The jealous and severe temper of the king, 
together with his great reputation for sagacity and penetration, 
kept men in awe, and quelled not only the movements of 
sedition, but the very murmurs of faction. Libels, however, 
jrept out against Henry's person and administration ; and 
being greedily propagated by every secret art, showed that 
there still remained among the people a considerable root of 
discontent, which wanted only a proper opportunity to discovei 
itself. 

But Henry continued more intent on increasing the terrors 
of his people, than on gaining their affections. Trusting to 
tli3 great success which attended him in all his enterprises, 
he gave every day more and more a loose to his rapacioua 
tamper, and employed the arts of perverted law and justice, 
in order to exact fines and compositions from his people. Sir 
William Capel, alderman of London, was condemned on 
some penal statutes to pay the sum of two thousand seven 
hundred and forty-three pounds, and was obliged to compound 
for sixteen hundred and 111 teen. This was the first noted case 
of the kind : but it became a precedent, which prepared thf 



A. D. 1495.] henry vn. 4! 

way for many others. The management, indeed, of these 
arts of chicanery, was the great secret of the king's adminis- 
tration. While he depressed the nobility, he exalted, and hon- 
ored, and caressed the lawyers ; and by that means both be- 
stowed authority on the laws, and was enabled, whenever he 
pleased, to pervert them to his own advantage. His govern- 
ment was oppressive ; but it was so much the less burden- 
some, as, by his extending royal authority, and curbing the 
nobles, he became in reality the sole oppressor in his king- 
dom. 

As Perkin found that the king's authority daily gained 
ground among the people, and that his own pretensions were 
becoming obsolete, he resolved to attempt something which 
might revive the hopes and expectations of his partisans. 
Having collected a band of outlaws, pirates, robbers, and 
necessitous persons of all nations, to the number of six hun- 
dred men, he put to sea, with a resolution of making a descent 
in England, and of exciting the common people to arms, since 
all his correspondence with the nobility was cut off by Henry's 
vigilance and severity. Information being brought him that 
the king had made a progress to the north, he cast anchor on 
the coast of Kent, and sent some of his retainers ashore, who 
invited the country to join him. The gentlemen of Kent 
assembled some troops to oppose him ; but they purposed to 
do more essential service than by repelling the invasion : they 
carried the semblance of friendship to Perkin, and invited 
him to come himself ashore, in order to take the command 
over them. But the wary youth, observing that they had 
more order and regularity in their movements than could be 
supposed in new levied forces who had taken arms against 
established authority, refused to intrust himself into theit 
hands ; and the Kentish troops, despairing of success in their 
stratagem, fell upon such of his retainers as were already 
landed ; and besides some whom they slew, they took a hun- 
dred and fifty prisoners. These were tried and condemned ; 
and all of them executed, by orders from the king, who was 
resolved to use no lenity towards men of such desperate for- 
tunes* 

This year a parliament was summoned in England, and 
another in Ireland ; and some remarkable laws were passed 



* Polyd. Virg. p. 595. 



46 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1495 

ill both countries. The English parliament enacted, that no 
person who should by arras, or otherwise, assist the kin? foi 
the time being, should ever afterwards, either by course of 
law or act of parliament, be attainted for such an instance of 
obedience. This statute might be exposed to some censure, 
as favorable to usurpers ; were there any precise rule, which 
always, even during the, most factious times, could determine 
the true successor, and render every one inexcusable who did 
not submit to him. But as the titles of princes are then the 
great subject of dispute, and each party pleads topics in its 
own favor, it seems but equitable to secure those who act in 
support of public tranquillity, an object at all times of un- 
doubted benefit and importance. Henry, conscious of his 
disputed title, promoted this law, in order to secure his par- 
tisans against all events ; but as he had himself observed a 
contrary practice with regard to Richard's adherents, he had 
reason to apprehend that, during the violence which usually 
ensues on public convulsions, his example, rather than his law, 
would, in case of a new revolution, be followed by his en- 
emies. And the attempt to bind the legislature itself, by pre- 
scribing rules to future parliaments, was contradictory to the 
plainest principles of political government 

This parliament also passed an act, empowering the king to 
levy, by course of law, all the sums which any person had 
agreed to pay by way of benevolence ; a statute by which 
that arbitrary method of taxation was indirectly authorized 
and justified. 

The king's authority appeared equally prevalent and uncon- 
trolled in Ireland. Sir Edward Poynings had been sent over 
to that country, with an intention of quelling the partisans of 
the house of York, and of reducing the natives to subjection. 
He was not supported by forces sufficient for that enterprise : 
the Irish, by flying into their woods, and morasses, and moun- 
tains, for some time eluded his efforts ; but Poynings sum 
moned a parliament at Dublin, where he was more successful 
He passed that memorable statute, which still bears his name, 
and which establishes the authority of the English govern- 
ment in Ireland. By this statute, all the former laws of Eng- 
land were made to be of force in Ireland ; and no bill can b« 
introduced into the Irish parliament, unless it previously re- 
ceive the sanction of the council of England. This latter 
clause seems calculated for insuring the dominion of the 
English ; but was really granted at the desire of the Irish 



4..D. 149&.J henry vn. M 

commons, who intended, by that means, to secure themselves 
from the tyranny of their lords, particularly of such lieuten- 
ants or deputies as were of Irish birth.* 

While Henry's authority was thus established throughou. 
his dominions, and general tranquillity prevailed, the whole 
continent was thrown into combustion by the French invasion 
of Italy, and by the rapid success which attended Charles in 
that rash and ill-concerted enterprise. The Italians, who had 
entirely lost the use of arms, and who, in the midst of con- 
tinual wars, had become every day more unwarlike, were 
astonished to meet an enemy that made the field of battle, 
not a pompous tournament, but a scene of blood, and sought, 
at the hazard of their own lives, the death of their enemy. 
Their effeminate troops were dispersed every where on the 
approach of the French army : their best fortified cities 
opened their gates : kingdoms and states were in an instant 
overturned ; and through the whole length of Italy, which the 
French penetrated without resistance, they seemed rather to 
be taking quarters in their own country, than making con- 
quests over an enemy. The maxims which the Italians during 
thai age followed in negotiations, were as ill calculated to sup- 
port their states, as the habits to which they were addicted in 
war : a treacherous, deceitful, and inconsistent system of pol 
itics prevailed ; and even those small remains of fidelity and 
honor, which were preserved in the councils of the other 
European princes, were ridiculed in Italy, as proofs of igno- 
rance and rusticity. Ludovico, duke of Milan, who invited 
the French to invade Naples, had never desired or expected 
their success ; and was the first that felt terror from the pros- 
perous issue of those projects which he himself had concerted. 
By his intrigues, a league was formed among several poten 
tates, to oppose the progress of Charles's conquests, and se 
cure their own independency. This league was composed of 
Ludovico himself, the pope, Maximilian, king of the Romans, 
Ferdinand of Spain, and the republic of Venice. Henry too 
entered into the confederacy ; but was not put to any expense 
or trouble in consequence of his engagements. The king of 
France, terrified by so powerful a combination, retired from 
Naples with the greater part of his army, and returned to 
France. The forces which he left in his new conquest were, 



* Sir John Davis, p. 23£ 



48 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1496. 

partly by the revolt of the inhabitants, partly by the invasion 
of the Spaniards, soon after subdued ; and the whole kingdom 
of Naples suddenly returned to its allegiance under Ferdinand, 
son to Alphonso, who had been suddenly expelled by the 
irruption of the French. Ferdinand died soon after, and left 
his uncle Frederick in full possession of the throne. 



A.D. I49b.i henry vn. ♦* 



SHAP1ER XXVI. 

HENRY VII. 

[1495.] After Perkin was repulsed from the coast oi 
Kent, he retired into Flanders ; but as he found it impossible 
to procure subsistence for himself and his followers while he 
remained in tranquillity, he soon after made an attempt upon 
Ireland, which had always appeared forward to join every 
invader of Henry's authority. But Poynings had now put the 
affairs of that island in so good a posture, that Perkin met 
with little success ; and being tired of the savage life which 
he was obliged to lead, while skulking among the wild Irish, 
he bent his course towards Scotland, and presented himself to 
James IV., who then governed that kingdom. He had been 
previously recommended to this prince by the king of France, 
who was disgusted at Henry ibr entering into the general 
league against him ; and this recommendation was even sec- 
onded by Maximilian, who, though one of the confederates, 
was also displeased with the king, on account of his prohibit- 
ing in England all commerce with the Low Countries. The 
countenance given to Perkin by these princes procured him a 
favorable reception with the king of Scotland, who assured 
him, that, whatever he were, he never should repent putting 
himself in his hands : * the insinuating address and plausible 
behavior of the youth himself, seem to have gained him credit 
and authority. James, whom years had not yet taught distrust 
or caution, was seduced to believe the story of Perkin's birth 
and adventures ; and he carried his confidence so far as to 
give him in marriage the lady Catharine Gordon, daughter of 
the earl of Huntley, and related to himself; a young lady, too, 
eminent for virtue as well as beauty. 

[1496.] There subsisted at that time a great jealousy between 
the courts of England and Scotland ; and James was probably 
the more forward on that account to adopt any fiction which he 
thought might reduce his enemy to distress or difficulty. Ho 

* Bacon, p. 8&5. Polyd. Virg. p. 59(\ 597. 
vox., nr. — C 



f»rt HISTOBV O^ ^N«LANB. [A. D. 1496 

suddenly resolved to make au inroad into England, attended by 
some of the borderers ; and he carried Perkin along with him, 
in hopes that the appearance of the pretended prince might 
raise an insurrection in the northern counties. Perkin himsell 
dispersed a manifesto, in which he set forth his own story, 
and craved the assistance of all his subjects in expelling the 
usurper, whose tyranny and maladministration, whose depres- 
sion of the nobility by the elevation of mean persons, whose 
oppression of the people by multiplied impositions and vexa- 
tions, had justly, he said, rendered him odious to all men. But 
Perkin's pretensions, attended with repeated disappointments, 
were now become stale in the eyes even of the populace , 
and the hostile dispositions which subsisted between the king- 
doms, rendered a prince supported by the Scots but an unwel- 
come present to the English nation. The ravages also com- 
mitted by the borderers, accustomed to license and disorder, 
struck a terror into all men, and made the people prepare 
rather for repelling the invaders than for joining them. Per- 
kin, that he might support his pretensions to royal birth, 
feigned great compassion for the misery of his plundered sub- 
jects, and publicly remonstrated with his ally against the de- 
predations exercised by the Scottish army;* but James told 
him, that he doubted his concern was employed only in behalf 
of an enemy, and that he was anxious to preserve what never 
should belong to him. That prince now began to perceive 
that his attempt would be fruitless ; and hearing of an army 
which was on its march to attack him, he thought proper to 
retreat into his own country. 

The king discovered little anxiety to procure either repara- 
tion or vengeance for this insult committed on him by the 
Scottish nation : his chief concern was to draw advantage from 
it, by the pretence which it might afford him to levy imposi- 
tions on his own subjects. He summoned a parliament, to 
whom he made bitter complaints against the irruption of the 
Scots, the absurd imposture countenanced by that nation, the 
cruel devastations committed in the northern counties, and the 
multiplied insults thus offered both to the king and kingdom of 
England The parliament made the expected return to this 
discourse, by granting a subsidy to the amount of one hundred 
and twenty thousand pounds, together with two fifteenths 
After making this grant, they were dismissed. 



Polyd Virg. p. 598 



a.. I). 1497.1 iienjiy vn fP. 

[1497.] The vote of parliament for imposing the tax wat 
without much difficulty procured by the authority of Henry , 
but he found it not so easy to levy the money upon his sub- 
jects. The people, who were acquainted with the immense 
treasures which he had amassed, could ill brook the new im- 
positions raised on every slight occasion ; and it is probable 
that the flaw which was universally known to be in his title, 
made his reign the more subject to insurrections and rebellions. 
When the subsidy began to be levied in Cornwall, the inhabit- 
ants, numerous and poor, robust and courageous, murmured 
against a tax occasioned by a sudden inroad of the Scots, from 
which they esteemed themselves entirely secure, and which 
had usually been repelled by the force of the northern counties. 
Their ill humor was further incited by one Michael Joseph, a 
farrier of Bodmin, a notable prating fellow, who, by thrusting 
himself forward on every occasion, and being loudest in every 
complaint against the government, had acquired an authority 
among those rude people. Thomas Flammoc, too, a lawyer 
who had become the oracle of the neighborhood, encouraged 
the sedition, by informing them that the tax, though imposed 
by parliament, was entirely illegal ; that the northern nobility 
were bound by their tenures to defend the nation against the 
Scots ; and that if these new impositions were tamely submit- 
ted to, the avarice of Henry and of his ministers would soon 
render the burden intolerable to the nation. The Cornish, he 
said, must deliver to the king a petition, seconded by such a 
force as would give it authority ; and in order to procure the 
concurrence of the rest of the kingdom, care must be taken, by 
their orderly deportment, to show that they had nothing in 
view but the public good, and the redress of all those griev- 
ances under which the people had so long labored. 

Encouraged by these speeches, the multitude flocked togeth- 
er, and armed themselves with axes, bills, bows, and such 
weapons as country people are usually possessed of. Flam- 
moc and Joseph were chosen their leaders. They soon con- 
ducted the Cornish through the county of Devon, and reached 
that of Somerset. At Taunton, the rebels killed, in then 
fury, an officious and eager commissioner of the subsidy, whom 
they called the provost of Perin. When they reached Wells, t 
they were joined by Jjord Audley, a nobleman of an ancient'. 
family, popular in. his deportment, but vain, ambitious, and 
restless in his temper. He had from the beginning main- 
tained a secret correspondence with the first movers of th« 



67 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D- 149? 

insurrection, and was now joyfully received by them as theii 
leader. Proud of the countenance given them by so consider* 
able a nobleman, they continued their march, breathing de- 
struction to the king's ministers and favorites, particularly to 
Morton, now a cardinal, and Sir Reginald Bray, who were 
deemed the most active instruments in all his oppressions. 
Notwithstanding their rage against the administration, they 
carefully followed the directions given them by their leaders ; 
and as they met with no resistance, they committed, during 
their march, no violence or disorder. 

The rebels had been told by Flammoc that the inhabitants 
of Kent, as they had ever, during all ages, remained unsub- 
dued, and had even maintained their independence during the 
Norman conquest, would surely embrace their party, and 
declare themselves for a cause which was no other than that 
of public good and general liberty. But the Kentish people 
had very lately distinguished themselves by repelling Perkins 
invasion ; and as they had received from the king many 
gracious acknowledgments for this service, their affections 
were by that means much conciliated to his government. It 
was easy, therefore, lor the earl of Kent, Lord Abergavenny, 
and Lord Cobham, who possessed great authority in those 
parts, to retain the people in obedience ; and the Cornish 
rebels, though they pitched their camp near Eltham, at the 
very gates of London, and invited all the people to join them, 
got reinforcement from no quarter. There wanted not discon- 
tents every where, but no one would take part in so rash 
and ill-concerted an enterprise ; and besides, the situation in 
which the king's affairs then stood discouraged even the bold- 
est and most daring. 

Henry, in order to oppose the Scots, had already levied an 
army, which he put under the command of Lord Daubeney, 
the chamberlain ; and as soon as he heard of the Cornish 
insurrection, he ordered it to march southwards and suppress 
the rebels. Not to leave the northern frontier defenceless, he 
despatched thither the earl of Surrey, who assembled the forces 
on the borders, and made head against the enemy. Henry 
{bund here the concurrence of the three most fatal incidents 
that can befall a monarchy ; a foreign enemy, a domestic 
rebellion, and a pretender to his crown ; but he enjoyed great 
resources in his army and treasure, and still more in the intre- 
pidity and courage of his own temper. He did not, however, 
immediately give full scope to his military spirit. On othej 



A.D 1497.] hknry vii. 53 

occasions, he had always hastened to a decision ; and it was a 
usual saying with him, "that he desired but to see his rebels :" 
but as the Cornish mutineers behaved in an inoffensive manner, 
and committed no spoil on the country ; as they received nc 
accession of force on their march or in their encampment , 
and as such hasty and popular tumults might be expected to 
diminish every moment by delay ; he took post in London. 
and assiduously prepared the means of insuring victory. 

After all his forces were collected, he divided them into 
three bodies, and marched out to assail the enemy. The first 
body, commanded by the earl of Oxford, and under him by the 
earls of Essex and Suffolk, were appointed to place them- 
selves behind the hill on which the rebels were encamped : the 
second, and most considerable, Henry put under the command 
of Lord Daubeney, and ordered him to attack the enemy in 
front, and bring on the action. The third he kept as a body 
of reserve about his own person, and took post in St. George's 
Fields ; where he secured, the city, and could easily, as occa- 
sion served, either restore the fight or finish the victory. To 
put the enemy off their guard, he had spread a report that he 
was not to attack them till some days after ; and the better to 
eonfirm them in this opinion, he began not the action till near 
the evening. Daubeney beat a detachment of the rebels from 
Deptfbrd bridge ; and before their main body could be in 
order to receive him, he had gained the ascent of the hill, and 
placed himself in array before them. They were formidable 
from their numbers, being sixteen thousand strong, and v/ere 
not defective in valor; but being tumultuary troops, ill armed, 
and not provided with cavalry or artillery, they were but an 
unequal match for the king's forces. Daubeney began the 
attack with courage, and even with a contempt of the enemy 
which had almost proved fatal to him. He rushed into the 
midst of them, and was taken prisoner ; but soon after was 
released by his own troops. After some resistance, the rebels 
were broken and put to flight.* Lord Audley, Flammoc, and 
Joseph, their leaders, were taken, and all three executed. 
The latter seemed even to exult in his end, and boasted, with 
a preposterous ambition, that he should make a figure in his- 
tory. The rebels, being surrounded on every side by the 
king's troops, were almost all made prisoners ; and imme- 
diately dismissed without further punishment : whether, that 

* Poly.l. Vir<r. p. 001. 



04 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [ A. D. 1437 

Henry was satisfied with the victims who had fallen in the 
field, and who amounted to near two thousand ; or that he 
pitied the ignorance and simplicity of the multitude, or favored 
them on account of their inoffensive behavior ; or was pleaseo. 
that they had never, during their insurrection, disputed his title, 
and had shown no attachment to the house of York, the highest 
crime of which, in his eyes, they could have been guilty. 

The Scottish king was not idle during these commotions in 
England. He levied a considerable army, and sat down 
before the Castle of Norham, in Northumberland ; but found 
that place, by the precaution of Fox, bishop of Durham, so 
well provided both with men and ammunition, that he made 
little or no progress in the siege. Hearing that the earl of 
Surrey had collected some forces, and was advancing upon 
"lim, he retreated into his own country, and left the frontiers 
exposed to the inroads of the English general, who besieged 
and took Aiton, a small castle lying a few miles beyond Ber- 
wick. These unsuccessful or frivolous attempts on both sides 
prognosticated a speedy end to the war ; and Henry, notwith- 
standing his superior force, was no less desirous than James 
of terminating the differences between the nations. Not to 
depart, however, from his dignity, by making the first ad- 
vances, he employed in this friendly office Peter Hialas, a 
man of address and learning, who had come to him as am- 
bassador from Ferdinand and Isabella, and who was charged 
with a commission of negotiating the marriage of the Infanta 
Catharine, their daughter, with Arthur, prince of Wales.* 

Hialas took a journey northwards, and offered his mediation 
between James and Henry, as minister of a prince who was 
in alliance with both potentates. Commissioners were soon 
appointed to meet and confer on terms of accommodation. 
The first demand of the English was, that Perkin should be 
put into their hands : James replied, that he himself was no 
judge of the young man's pretensions ; but having received 
him as a supplicant, ind promised him protection, he was 
determined not to betray a man who had trusted to his good 
faith and his generosity. The next demand of the English 
met with no better reception : they required reparation for 
the ravages committed by the late inroads into England : the 
Scottish commissioners replied, that the spoils were like water 
*pilt upon the ground, which could never be recovered ; and 

* Polyd. Virjr. p. 603. 



A..D. 1497. i henry vn. 56 

that Henry's subjects were better able to bear the loss, than 
their master to repair it Henry's commissioners next pro- 
posed, that the two kings should have an interview at New- 
castle, in order to adjust all differences ; but James said, that 
he meant to treat of a peace, not to go a begging for it. Lest 
the conferences should break off altogether without effect, a 
truce was concluded for some months ; and James, perceiving 
that while Perkin remained in Scotland he himself never 
should enjoy a solid peace with Henry, privately desired him 
to depart the kingdom. 

Access was now barred Perkin into the Low Countries, his 
usual retreat in all his disappointments. The Flemish mer- 
chants, who severely felt the loss resulting from the interrup- 
tion of commerce with England, had made such interest in 
the archduke's council, that commissioners were sent to Lon- 
don, in order to treat of an accommodation. The Flemish 
court agreed, that all English rebels should be excluded the 
Low Countries ; and in this prohibition the demesnes of the 
duchess dowager were expressly comprehended. When this 
principal article was agreed to, all the other terms were easily 
adjusted. A treaty of commerce was finished, which was 
favorable to the Flemings, and to which they long gave the 
appellation of " intercursus magnus," the great treaty. And 
when the English merchants returned to their usual abode at 
Antwerp, they were publicly received, as in procession, with 
joy and festivity. 

Perkin was a Fleming by descent, though born in England ; 
and it might therefore be doubted whether he were inc'uded 
in the treaty between the two nations : but as he must dismiss 
all his English retainers if he took shelter in the Low Coun- 
tries, and as he was sure of a cold reception, if not bad 
usage, among people who were determined to keep on terms 
of friendship with the court of England, he thought fit rather 
to hide himself during some time in the wilds and fastnesses 
of Ireland. Impatient, however, of a retreat which was both 
disagreeable and dangerous, he held consultations with his 
followers, Heme, Skelton, and Astley, three broken trades- 
men : by their advice he resolved to try the affections of the 
Cornish, whose mutinous disposition, notwithstanding the king's 
lenity, still subsisted after the suppression of their rebellion. 
No sooner did he appear at Bodmin, in Cornwall, than the 
populace, to the number of three thousand, flocked to hia 
standard; and Perkin, elated with this appearance of success 



f>6 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1437. 

took on him, for the first time, the appellation of Richard IV ~ 
king of England. Not \d suffer the expectations of his fol 
lowers to languish, he presented himself before Exeter ; and 
by many fair promises invited that city to join him. Finding 
that the inhabitants shut their gates against him, he laid siege 
to the place ; but being unprovided with artillery, ammunition, 
and every thing requisite for the attempt, he made no prog- 
ress in his undertaking. Messengers were sent to the king, 
informing him of this insurrection : the citizens of Exeter 
meanwhile were determined to hold out to the last extremity, 
in expectation of receiving succor from the well-known 
vigilance of that monarch. 

When Henry was informed that Perkin was landed in 
England, he expressed great joy, and prepared himself with 
alacrity to attack him, in hopes of being able, at length, to put 
a period to pretensions which had so long given him vexation 
and inquietude. All the courtiers, sensible that their activity 
on this occasion would be the most acceptable service which 
they could render the king, displayed their zeal for the enter- 
prise, and forwarded his preparations. The lords Daubeney 
and Broke, with Sir Rice ap Thomas, hastened forward with 
a small body of troops to the relief of Exeter. The earl of 
Devonshire, and the most considerable gentlemen in the 
county of that name, took arms of their own accord, and 
marched to join the king's generals. The duke of Bucking- 
ham put himself at the head of a troop, consisting of young 
nobility and gentry, who served as volunteers, and who longed 
for an opportunity of displaying their courage and their 
loyalty. The king himself prepared to follow with a con- 
siderable army ; and thus all England seemed united against 
a pretender who had at first engaged their attention and 
divided their affections. 

Perkin, informed of these great preparations, immediately 
raised the siege of Exeter, and retired to Taunton. Though 
his followers now amounted to the number of near seven 
thousand, and seemed still resolute to maintain his cause, he 
himself despaired of success, and secretly withdrew to the 
sanctuary of Beaulieu, in the new forest. The Cornish rebels 
submitted to the king's mercy, and found that it was not yet 
exhausted in their behalf. Except a few persons of desperate 
fortunes, who were executed, and some others who were 
Beverely fined, all the rest were dismissed with impunity. 
Lady Catharine Gordon, wife to Perkin. fell into the handi 



A.D. 1498. J HENRY V\l 57 

of the victor, and was treated with a generosity which does 
him honor. He soothed her mind with many marks of re- 
gard, placed her in a reputable station about the queen, and 
assigned her a pension, which she enjoyed even under his 
successor. 

[1498.] Henry deliberated what course to take with 
rerkin himself. Some counselled him to make the privileges 
of the church yield to reasons of state, to take him by 
violence from the sanctuary, to inflict on him the punishment 
due to his temerity, and thus at once to put an end to an 
imposture which had long disturbed the government, and 
which the credulity of the people and the artifices of male- 
contents were still capable of reviving. But the king deemed 
not the matter of such importance as to merit so violent a 
remedy. He employed some persons to deal with Perkin, 
and persuade him, under promise of pardon, to deliver himself 
into the king's hands.* The king conducted him in a species 
of mock triumph to London. As Perkin passed along the 
road and through the streets of the city, men of all ranks 
flocked about him, and the populace treated with the highest 
derision his fallen fortunes They seemed desirous of reveng- 
ing themselves, by their insults, for the shame which their 
former belief of his impostures had thrown upon them. 
Though the eyes of the nation were generally opened with 
regard to Perkin's real parentage, Henry required of him a 
confession of his life and adventures ; and he ordered the 
account of the whole to be dispersed soon after, for the satis- 
faction of the public. But as his regard to decency mado 
him entirely suppress the share which the duchess of Bur- 
gundy had had in contriving and conducting the imposture, 
the people, who knew that she had been the chief instrument 
in the whole affair, were inclined, on account of the silence 
on that head, to pay the less credit to the authenticity of the 
narrative. 

[1499.] But Perkin, though his life was granted him, was 
still detained in custody ; and keepers were appointed to 
guard him. Impatient of confinement, he broke from his 
keepers, and flying to the sanctuary of Shyne, put himself 
into the hands of the prior of that monastery. The prioi 
had obtained great credit by his character of sanctity ; and 
hs prevailed on the king again to grant a pardon to Perkin. 

* Polvtl Virg. p. 60(5. 



&S HISTORY OF FJIGLAND. [A. D. 1499 

But in order to reduce him to still greater contempt, he was 
set in the stocks at Westminster and Cheapside, and obliged 
in both places to read aloud to the people the confession 
which had formerly been published in his name. He was 
lb'"" confined to the Tower, where his habits of restless 
uicrigue and enterprise followed him. He insinuated himself 
into the intimacy of four servants of Sir John Digby, lieuten- 
ant of the Tower ; and by their means opened a correspond- 
ence with the earl oi Warwick, who was confined in the same 
prison. This unfortunate prince, who had from his earliest 
youth been shut up irom the commerce of men, and who was 
ignorant even of the most common affairs of life, had fallen 
into a simplicity which made him susceptible of any impres- 
sion. The continued dread also of the more violent effects of 
Henry's tyranny, joined to the natural love of liberty, engaged 
him to embrace a project for his escape, by the murder of the 
lieutenant ; and Perkin offered to conduct the whole enter- 
prise. The conspiracy escaped not the king's vigilance : it 
was even very generally believed, that the scheme had been 
laid by himself, in order to draw Warwick and Perkin into 
the snare ; but the subsequent execution of two of Digby's 
servants for the contrivance seems to clear the king of 
that imputation, which was indeed founded more on the 
general idea entertained of his character than on any positive 
evidence. 

Perkin, by this new attempt, after so many enormities, 
had rendered himself totally unworthy of mercy ; and he 
was accordingly arraigned, condemned, and soon after hanged 
at Tyburn, persisting still in the confession of his imposture.* 
It happened about that very time that one Wilford, a cord- 
wainer's son, encouraged by the surprising credit given to 
other impostures, had undertaken to personate the earl of 
Warwick ; and a priest had even ventured from the pulpit 
to recommend his cause to the people, who seemed still to 
retain a propensity to adopt it. This incident served Henry 
as a pretence for his severity towards that prince. He 
was brought to trial, and accused, not of contriving his 
escape, (lor as he was committed for no crime, the desiro 
cf liberty must have been regarded as natural and innocent,) 
but of ibrming designs to disturb the government, and raise 
an insurrection among the people. Warwick confessed the 

* See note A, at the end of the volume. 



A D. 1199.] henry vn. 39 

indictment, was condemned, and the sentence was executed 
upon him. 

This violent act of tyranny, the great blemish of Henry'a 
reign, by which he destroyed the last remaining male of the 
line of Plantagenet, begat great discontent among the people, 
who saw an unhappy prince, that had long been denied all 
the privileges of his high birth, even been cut off from the 
common benefits of nature, now at last deprived of life itself, 
merely for attempting to shake oil' that oppression undei 
which he labored. In vain did Henry endeavor to alleviate 
the odium of this guilt, by sharing it with his ally, Ferdinand 
of Arragon, who, he said, had scrupled to give his daughter 
Catharine in marriage to Arthur while any male descendant 
of the house of York remained. Men, on the contrary, felt 
higher indignation at seeing a young prince sacrificed, not to 
law and justice, but to the jealous politics of two subtle and 
crafty tyrants. 

But though these discontents festered in the minds of men, 
they were so checked by Henry's watchful policy and steady 
severity, that they seemed not to weaken his government ; 
and foreign princes, deeming his throne now entirely secure, 
paid him rather the greater deference and attention. The 
archduke Philip, in particular, desired an interview with him ; 
and Henry, who had passed over to Calais, agreed to meet 
him in St. Peter's church, near that city. The archduke, on 
his approaching the king, made haste to alight, and offered to 
hold Henry's stirrup ; a mark of condescension which that 
prince would not admit of. He called the king "father/' 
' patron," " protector ;" and by his whole behavior expressed 
a strong desire of conciliating the friendship of England. 
The duke of Orleans had succeeded to the crown of France 
by the appellation of Lewis XII. ; and having carried 
his arms into Italy, and subdued the duchy of Milan, his 
progress begat jealousy in Maximilian, Philip's father, as well 
as in Ferdinand, his father-in-law. By the counsel, there- 
fore, of these monarchs, the young prince endeavored by 
every art to acquire the amity of Henry, whom they regarded 
as the chief counterpoise to the greatness of France. Nc 
particular plan, however, of alliance seems to have been 
concerted between these two princes in their interview : all 
passed in general professions of affection and regard ; at 
least, in remote projects of a closer union, by the future 



6U HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1500 

intermarriages of their children, who were then in a state of 
infancy. 

[1500.] The pope, too, Alexander VI., neglected not the 
friendship of a monarch whose reputation Avas spread ovei 
Europe. He sent a nuncio into England, who exhorted the 
king to take part in the great alliance projected for the recov- 
ery of the Holy Land, and to lead in person his forces against 
the infidels. The general frenzy for crusades was now en- 
tirely exhausted in Europe ; but it was still thought a necessary 
r.iece of decency to pretend zeal for those pious enterprises. 
Henry regretted to the nuncio the distance of his situation, 
which rendered it inconvenient for him to expose his person 
in defence of the Christian cause. He promised, however, his 
utmost assistance by aids and contributions ; and rather than 
the pope should go alone to the holy wars, unaccompanied by 
any monarch, he even promised to overlook all other consid- 
erations, and to attend him in person. He only required, as a 
uecessary condition, that all differences should previously be 
adjusted among Christian princes, and that some seaport towns 
in Italy should be consigned to him for his retreat and secu- 
rity. It was easy to conclude that Henry had determined not 
to intermeddle in any war against the Turk ; but as a great 
name, without any real assistance, is sometimes of service, 
the knights of Pwhodes, who were at that time esteemed the 
bulwark of Christendom, chose the king protector of theii 
order. 

But the prince whose alliance Henry valued the most was 
Ferdinand of Arragon, whose vigorous and steady policy, 
always attended with success, had rendered him in many 
respects the most considerable monarch in Europe. There 
was also a remarkable similarity of character between these 
two princes ; both were full of craft, intrigue, and design : and 
though a resemblance of this nature be a slender foundation 
for confidence and amity, where the interests of the parties 
in the least interfere, such was the situation of Henry and 
Ferdinand, that no jealousy ever on any occasion arose 
between them. The king had now the satisfaction of com- 
pleting a marriage, which had been projected and negotiated 
during the course of seven years, between Arthur, prince of 
Wales, and the infanta Catharine, fourth daughter of Ferdi- 
nand and Isabella ; he near sixteen years of age, she eighteen. 
But this marriage proved in the issue unprosperous. The 
voung prince, a few months after, sickened and died, much 



AD. 1502. J henry vn. 6} 

regretted by the nation. [1502.] Henry, desirous to continue 
his alliance with Spain, and also unwilling to restore Catha- 
rine's dowry, which was two hundred thousand ducats, obliged 
his second son, Henry, whom he created prince of Wales, to 
be contracted to the infanta. The prince made all the oppo- 
sition of which a youth of twelve years of age was capable ; 
but as the king persisted in his resolution, the espousals were 
at length, by means of the pope's dispensation, contracted be- 
tween the parties ; an event which was afterwards attended 
\\ ith the most important consequences. 

The same year another marriage was celebrated, which 
was also, in the next age, productive of great events , the 
marriage of Margaret, the king's eldest daughter, with James, 
king of Scotland. This alliance had been negotiated during 
three years, though interrupted by several broils ; and Henry 
hoped, from the completion of it, to remove all source of 
discord with that neighboring kingdom, by whose animosity 
England had so often been infested. When this marriage 
was deliberated on in the English council, some objected, that 
England might, by means of that alliance, fall under the do- 
minion of Scotland. " No," replied Henry, " Scotland, in that 
event, will only become an accession to England." [1503.] 
Amidst these prosperous incidents, the king met with a domes- 
tic calamity, which made not such impression on him as it 
merited : his queen died in childbed ; and the infant did not 
long survive her. This princess was deservedly a favorite of 
the nation ; and the general affection for her increased on 
account of the harsh treatment which it was thought she met 
with from her consort. 

The situation of the king's affairs, both at home and abroad, 
was now in every respect very fortunate. All the efforts of 
the European princes, both in war and negotiation, were turn- 
ed to the side of Italy ; and the various events which there 
arose, made Henry's alliance be courted by every party, yet 
interested him so little as never to touch him with concern 
?r anxiety. His close connections with Spain and Scotland 
insured his tranquillity; and his continued successes over 
domestic enemies, owing to the prudence and vigor of his 
conduct, had reduced the people to entire submission and 
obedience. Uncontrolled, therefore, by apprehension or oppo- 
sition of any kind, he gave full scope to his natural propen- 
sity ; and avarice, which had ever been hi? ruling passion, 
being increased by age, and encouraged by absolute authority 



52 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A. D. 1503 

broke all restraints of shame or justice. He had found two 
ministers, Empson and Dudley, perfectly qualified to second 
his rapacious and tyrannical inclinations, and to prey upon hia 
defenceless people. These instruments of oppression were 
both lawyers ; the first of mean birth, of brutal manners, of 
an unrelenting temper ; the second better born, better educa- 
ted, and better bred, but equally unjust, severe, and inflexible. 
By their knowledge in law, these men were qualified to per- 
rert the forms of justice to the oppression of the innocent ; and 
the formidable authority of the king supported them in all their 
iniquities. 

It was their usual practice, at first, to observe so far the 
appearance of law as to give indictments to those whom they 
attended to oppress ; upon which the persons were committed 
to prison, but never brought to trial ; and were at length 
obliged, in order to recover their liberty, to pay heavy fines 
and ransoms, which were called mitigations and compositions. 
By degrees, the very appearance of law was neglected : the 
two ministers sent forth their precepts to attach men, and 
summon them before themselves and some others, at their pri- 
vate houses, in a court of commission, where, in a summary 
manner, without trial or jury, arbitrary decrees were issued, 
both in pleas of the crown and controversies between private 
parties. Juries themselves, when summoned, proved but 
small security to the subject ; being browbeaten by these 
oppressors ; nay, fined, imprisoned, and punished, if they 
gave sentence against the inclination of the ministers. The 
whole system of the feudal law, which still prevailed, was 
turned into a scheme of oppression. Even the king's wards, 
after they came of age, were not suffered to enter into pos- 
session of their lands without paying exorbitant fines. Men 
were also harassed with informations of intrusion upon scarce 
colorable titles. When an outlawry in a personal action was 
issued against any man, he was not allowed to purchase his 
charter of pardon, except on the payment of a great sum ; and 
if he refused the composition required of him, the strict law, 
which in such cases allows forfeiture of goods, was rigor- 
ously insisted on. Nay, without any color of law, the half of 
men's lands and T3nts were seized during two years, as a 
panalty in case of outlawry. But the chief means of oppres- 
sion employed by these ministers were the penal statutes, 
which, without consideration of rank, quality, or services, weru 
rigidly put in execution against all men : spies, informers, and 



A. D. 1505] henry vn. 63 

inquisitors were rewarded and encouraged in every quarter of 
the kingdom : and no difference was made, whether the stat- 
ute were heneficial or hurtful, recent or obsolete, possible or 
impossible to be executed. The sole end of the king and his 
ministers was to amass money, and bring every one under the 
lash of their authority.* 

Through the prevalence of such an arbitrary and iniquitous 
administration, the English, it may safely be affirmed, were 
considerable losers by their ancient privileges, which secured 
them from all taxations, except such as were imposed by their 
own consent in parliament. Had the king been empowered 
to levy general taxes at pleasure, he would naturally have 
abstained from these oppressive expedients, which destroyed 
all security in private property, and begat a universal diffidence 
throughout the nation. In vain did the people look for protec- 
tion from the parliament, which was pretty frequently sum- 
moned during this reign. [1504.] That assembly were sc 
overawed, that at this very time, during the greatest rage of 
Henry's oppressions, the commons chose Dudley their speaker, 
the very man who was the chief instrument of his iniquities 
And though the king was known to be immensely opulent 
and had no pretence of wars or expensive enterprises of an\ 
kind, they granted him the subsidy which he demanded. But 
so insatiable was his avarice, that next year he levied a 
new benevolence, and renewed that arbitrary and oppressive 
method of taxation. [1505]. By all these arts of accumula- 
tion, joined to a rigid frugality in his expense, he so filled his 
coffers, that he is said to have possessed in ready money the 
sum of one million eight hundred thousand pounds ; a treas- 
ure almost incredible, if we consider the scarcity of money in 
those times.t 

But while Henry was enriching himself by the spoils of his 
oppressed people, there happened an event abroad which 
engaged his attention, and was even the object of his anxiety 



* Bacon, p. 629, 630. Holingshed, p. 504. Polyd. Virg. p. 613, 615. 

t Silver was during this reign at thirty-seven shillings and sixpence 
a pound which makes Henry's treasure near three millions of our pres- 
ent money. Besides, many commodities have become above thrice as 
dear by the increase of gold and silver in Europe. And what is a cir 
cumstance of still greater weight, all other states were then very pooi, 
in comparison i( what they are at present. These circumstances make 
Henry's treasure appear very great, and may lead us to conceive th»> 
oppressions of his government. 



ft4 HISTO] Y OF ENGLAND. ]A.D. 150b 

and concern Isabella, queen of Castile, died about tbis time . 
and it was foreseen that by this incident the fortunes of Ferdi- 
nand, her husband, would be much affected. The king was 
not only attentive to the fate of his ally, and watchful lest the 
general system of Europe should be affected by so important 
an event ; he also considered the similarity of his own situation 
with that of Ferdinand, and regarded the issue of these trans- 
actions as a precedent for himself. Joan, the daughter of 
Ferdinand by Isabella, was married to the archduke Philip, 
and being, in right of her mother, heir of Castile, seemed 
entitled to dispute with Ferdinand the present possession of 
that kingdom. Henry knew that, notwithstanding his own 
pretensions by the house of Lancaster, the greater part of the 
nation was convinced of the superiority of his wife's title ; and 
he dreaded lest the prince of Wales, who was daily advancing 
towards manhood, might be tempted by ambition to lay imme 
diate claim to the crown. By his perpetual attention to depress 
the partisans of the York family, he had more closely united 
them into one party, and increased their desire of shaking oft' 
that yoke under which they had so long labored, and of takiug 
every advantage which his oppressive government should give 
his enemies against him. And as he possessed no independent 
force like Ferdinand, and governed a kingdom more turbulent 
and unruly, which he himself by his narrow politics had con- 
firmed in factious prejudices, he apprehended that his situation 
would prove in the issue still more precarious. 

Nothing at first could turn out more contrary to the king'a 
wishes than the transactions in Spain. Ferdinand, as well as 
Henry, had become very unpopular, and from a like cause, 
his former exactions and impositions ; and the states of Castile 
discovered an evident resolution of preferring the title of Philip 
and Joan. [1506.] In order to take advantage of these favor- 
able dispositions, the archduke, now king of Castile, attended 
by his consort, embarked for Spain during the winter season ; 
but meeting with a violent tempest in the channel, was obliged 
to take shelter in the harbor of Weymouth. Sir John Trench- 
ard, a gentleman of authority in the county of Dorset, hearing 
of a fleet upon the coast, had assembled some forces ; and 
being joined by Sir John Carey, who was also at the head of 
an armed body, he came to that town. Finding that Philip, 
in order to relieve his sickness and fatigue, was already come 
ashore, he invited him to his house , and immediately de 
6patched a messenger to inform the court of this important 



A.D. 150G.J HENRY VII. 6b 

incident. The king sent in all haste the earl of Arundel tc 
compliment Philip on his arrival in England, and to inform 
him that he intended to pay him a visit in person, and to give 
him a suitable reception in his dominions. Philip knew that 
he could not now depart without the king's consent; and 
therefore, for the sake of despatch, he resolved to anticipate hig 
visit, and to have an interview with him at Windsor. Henry 
received him with all the magnificence possible, and with all 
the seeming cordiality ; but he resolved, notwithstanding, to 
draw some advantage from this involuntary visit paid him by 
his royal guest. 

Edmond de la Pole, earl of Suffolk, nephew to Edward IV., 
and brother to the earl of Lincoln, slain in the battle of Stoke, 
had some years before killed a man in a sudden fit of passion, 
and had been obliged to apply to the king for a remission of 
the crime. The king had granted his request ; but, being 
little indulgent to all persons connected with the house of York, 
he obliged him to appear openly in court and plead his pardon. 
Suffolk, more resenting the affront than grateful for the favor, 
bad fled into Flanders, and taken shelter with his aunt, the 
duchess of Burgundy ; but being promised forgiveness by the 
king, he returned to England, and obtained a new pardon. 
Actuated, however, by the natural inquietude of his temper, 
and uneasy from debts which he had contracted by his great 
expense at Prince Arthur's wedding, he again made an 
elopement into Flanders. The king, well acquainted with the 
general discontent which prevailed against his administration, 
neglected not this incident, which might become of importance ; 
and he employed his usual artifices to elude the efforts of his 
enemies. He directed Sir Robert Curson, governor of the 
castle of Hammes, to desert his charge, and to insinuate him- 
self into the confidence of Suffolk, by making him a tender 
of his services. Upon information secretly conveyed by Cur- 
son, the king seized William Courtney, eldest son to the earl 
of Devonshire, and married to the lady Catharine, sister ot 
the queen ; William de la Pole, brother to the earl of Suffolk ; 
Sir James Tyrrel, and Sir James Windham, with some persons 
rd" inferior quality ; and he committed them to custody. Lord 
Abergavenny and Sir Thomas Green were also apprehended , 
out were soon after released from their confinement. William 
de la Pole was long detained in prison : Courtney was attainted, 
and, though not executed, he recovered not his liberty during 
the king's lifetime. But Henry's chief severity fell upon Sii 



Ot> HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D.I 506 

James Windham and Sir James Tyrrel, -who were brought to 
their trial, condemned, and executed : the fate of the latter 
gave general satisfaction, on account of his participation in the 
murder of the young princes, sons of Edward IV. Notwith- 
standing these discoveries and executions, Curson was stil! 
able to maintain his credit with the earl of Suffolk : Henry, 
in order to remove all suspicion, had ordered him to be excom- 
municated, together with Suffolk himself, for his pretended 
rebellion. But after that traitor had performed ali the services 
expected from him, he suddenly deserted the earl, and came 
over to England, where the king received him with unusual 
marks of favor and confidence. Suffolk, astonished at this 
instance of perfidy, finding that even the duchess of Burgundy, 
tired with so many fruitless attempts, had become indifferent 
to his cause, fled secretly into France, thence into Germany 
and returned at last into the Low Countries ; where he wai 
protected, though not countenanced, by Philip, then in close 
alliance with the king. 

Henry neglected not the present opportunity of complaining 
to his guest of the reception which Suffolk had met with in his 
dominions. " I really thought," replied the king of Castile, 
" that your greatness and felicity had set you far above appre- 
hensions from any person of so little consequence : but, to 
give you satisfaction, I shall banish him my state." "I ex- 
pect that you will carry your complaisance further," said 
the king ; "I desire to have Suffolk put into my hands, where 
alone I can depend upon his submission and obedience." 
•' That measure," said Philip, " will reflect dishonor upon you 
as w r ell as myself. You will be thought to have treated me 
as a prisoner." " Then the matter is at an end," replied the 
king ; " for I will take that dishonor upon me ; and so your 
honor is saved."* The king of Castile lound himself under a 
necessity of complying ; but he first exacted Henry's promise 
that he would spare Suffolk's life. That nobleman was invited 
over to England by Philip ; as if the king would grant him a 
pardon, on the intercession of his friend and ally. Upon his 
appearance, he was committed to the Tower ; and the king of 
Castile, having fully satisfied Henry, as well by this concession 
as by signing a treaty of commerce between England and 
Castile, which was advantageous to the former kingdom,! was 
at last allowed to depart, after a stay of three months. He 



Bacon, p. 633. t Rynier, vol. xiii p. 1 12. 



A IX 1603. J henry vn. G"? 

landed in Spain was joyfully received by the Castilians, and 
put- in possession of the throne. [1507.] He died soon 
after ; and Joan, his widow, falling into deep melancholy, 
Ferdinand was again enabled to reinstate himself in authority, 
and to govern, till the day of his death, the whole Spanish 
monarchy. 

The king survived these transactions two years ; but nothing 
memorable occurs in the remaining part of his reign, except 
his affiancing his second daughter, Mary, to the young arch- 
duke Charles, son of Philip of Castile. [1508.] He enter- 
tained also some intentions of marriage for himself, first with 
the queen dowager of Naples, relict of Ferdinand ; afterwards 
with the duchess dowager of Savoy, daughter of Maximilian, 
and sister of Philip. But the decline of his health put an end 
to all such thoughts ; and he begau to cast his eye towards that 
future existence which the iniquities and severities of his reign 
rendered a very dismal prospect to him. To allay the terrors 
under which '»w labored, he endeavored, by distributing alms 
and founding religious houses, to make atonement lor his 
crimes, and to purchase, by the sacrifice of part of his ill-got- 
ten treasures, a reconciliation with his offended Maker. Re- 
morse even seized him at intervals for the abuse of his author- 
ity by Empson and Dudley; but not sufficient to make him 
stop the rapacious hand of those oppressors. Sir William 
Capel was again fined two thousand pounds under some friv- 
olous pretence, and was committed to the Tower for daring to 
murmur against the iniquity. Harris, an alderman of Lon- 
don, was indicted, and died of vexation before his trial came 
to an issue. Sir Laurence Ailmer, who had been mayor, and 
his two sheriffs, were condemned in heavy fines, and sent to 
prison till they made payment. The king gave countenance 
to all these oppressions ; till death, by its nearer approaches, 
impressed new terrors upon hirn ; and he then ordered, by a 
general clause in his will, that restitution should be made to 
all those whom he had injured. [1509.] He died of a con- 
sumption at his favorite palace of Richmond, after a reign of 
twenty-three years and eight months, and in the fifty-second 
year of his age.* 

The reign of Henry VII. was, in the main, fortunate for hia 
people at home, and honorable abroad. He put an end to the 
civil wars with which the nation had long been harassed, ha 



* Dugd. Baronage, ii. p. 237 



68 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. L"08. 

maintained peace and order in the state, he depressed the 
former exorbitant power of the nobility, and, together with the 
friendship of some foreign princes, he acquired the considera- 
tion and regard of all. He loved peace without fearing war : 
though agitated with continual suspicions of his servants and 
ministers, he discovered no timidity, either in the conduct of 
his affairs, or in the day of battle; and though often severe 
in his punishments, he was commonly less actuated by revenge 
than by maxims of policy. The services which he rendered 
the people were derived from his views of private advantage, 
rather than the motives of public spirit ; and where he deviated 
from interested regards, it was unknown to himself, and ever 
from the malignant prejudices of faction, or the mean projects 
of avarice ; not from the sallies of passion, or allurements of 
pleasure ; still less from the benign motives of friendship and 
generosity. His capacity was excellent, but somewhat con- 
tracted by the narrowness of his heart ; he possessed insinua- 
tion and address, but never employed these talents, except 
where some great point of interest was to be gained ; and 
while he neglected to conciliate the affections of his people, 
he often felt the danger of resting his authority on their fear 
and reverence alone. He was always extremely attentive to 
his affairs ; but possessed not the faculty of seeing Far into 
futurity ; and was more expert at providing a remedy for his 
mistakes than judicious in avoiding them. Avarice was, on 
the whole, his ruling passion ;* and he remains an instance, 
almost singular, of a man placed in a high station, and pos- 
sessed of talents for great affairs, in whom that passion pre- 
dominated above ambition. Even among private persons, 
avarice is commonly nothing but a species of ambition, and is 
chiefly incited by the prospect of that regard, distinction, and 
consideration, which attend on riches. 

The power of the kings of England had always been some- 
what irregular or discretionary ; but was scarcely ever so 
absolute during any former reign, at least after the estab- 



* As a proof of Henry's attention to the smallest profits, Bacon 
tells us, that he had seen a book of accounts kept by Empson, and 
subscribed in almost every leaf by the king's own band. Among 
other articles was tbe following: "Item. Received of such a one 
five marks for a pardon, which if it do not pass, the money to be 
repaid, or the party otherwise satisfied." Opposite to the memoran- 
dum, the king had writ with his own hand, "Otherwise satisfied." 
Bacon, p. 630. 



A.D lOO'J.j HENRY VII. bti 

lishment of the Great Charter, as during that of Henry 
Besides the advantages derived from the personal character, 
of the man, full of vigor, industry, and severity, deliberate in 
ail projects, steady in every purpose, and attended with caution 
as well as good fortune in every enterprise ; he came to the 
throne after long and bloody civil wars, which had destroyed 
all the great nobility, who alone could resist the encroach- 
ments of his authority ; the people were tired with discord 
and intestine convulsions, and willing to submit to usurpations, 
and even to injuries, rather than plunge themselves anew into 
like miseries : the fruitless efforts made against him served 
always, as is usual, to confirm his authority : as he ruled by 
a faction, and the lesser faction, all those on whom he con- 
ferred offices, sensible that they owed every thing to his pro- 
tection, were willing to support his power, though at the ex- 
pense of justice and national privileges. These seem the chiei 
causes which at this time bestowed on the crown eo consider- 
able an addition of prerogative, and rendered the present reign 
a kind of epoch in the English constitution. 

This prince, though he exalted his prerogative above law, 
is celebrated by his historian for many good laws, which he 
made be enacted for the government of his subjects. Sev- 
eral considerable regulations, indeed, are found among the 
Statutes of this reign, both with regard to the police of the 
kingdom, and its commerce : but the former are generally 
contrived with much better judgment than the latter. The 
.nore simple ideas of order and equity are sufficient to guide a 
legislator in every thing that regards the internal administra- 
tion of justice : but the principles of commerce are much more 
complicated, and require long experience and deep reflection to 
be well understood in any state. The real consequence of a 
law or practice is there often contrary to first appearances. 
No wonder that during the reign of Henry VII. these matters 
were frequently mistaken ; and it may safely be affirmed, that 
even in the age of Lord Bacon, very imperfect and erroneous 
ideas were formed on that subject. 

Early in Henry's reign, the authority of the star chamber, 
which was before founded on common law and ancient prac- 
tice, was in some cases confirmed by act of parliament : * 
Lord. Bacon extols the utility of this court ; but men began, 
even during the age of that historian, to feel that so arbitrary 

* See note B, at the end of the volume. 



70 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D 1509. 

a jurisdiction was incompatible with liberty ; and in proportion 
as the spirit of independence still rose higher in the nation, 
the aversion to it increased, till it was entirely abolished by 
act of parliament m the reign of Charles I., a little before the 
commencement of the civil wars. 

Laws were passed in this reign, ordaining the king's suit 
for murder to be carried on within a year and a day.* For- 
merly it did not usually commence till after ; and as the 
friends of the person murdered often in the interval compound- 
ed matters with the criminal, the crime frequently passed un- 
punished. Suits were given to the poor " in forma pauperis," 
as it is called ; that is, without paying dues for the writs, or 
any fees to the council ; t a good law at all times, especially 
in that age, when the people labored under the oppression 
of the great ; but a law difficult to be carried into execution. 
A law was made against carrying off any woman by force. $ 
The benefit of clergy was abridged ; § and the criminal, on 
the first offence, was ordered to be burned in the hand with 
a letter denoting his crime ; after which he was punished 
capitally for any new offence. Sheriffs were no longer al- 
lowed to fine any person, without previously summoning him 
before their court. || It is strange that such a practice should 
ever have prevailed. Attaint of juries was granted in cases 
which exceeded forty pounds' value ; IT a law which has an 
appearance of equity, but M'hich was afterwards found incon- 
venient. Actions popular were not allowed to be eluded by 
fraud or covin. If any servant of the king's conspired against 
the life of the steward, treasurer, or comptroller of the king's 
household, this design, though not followed by any overt 
act, was made liable to the punishment of felony.*-* 
This statute was enacted for the security of Archbishop 
Morton, who found himself exposed to the enmity of great 
numbers. 

There scarcely passed any session during this reign without 
Eome statute against engaging retainers, and giving them 
badges or liveries; ft a practice by which they were in s 

* 3 Henry VII. cap. 1. til Henry VII. cap. 12. 

t 3 Henry VII. cap. 2. §4 Henrv VII. cap. 13. 

II 11 Henry VII. cap. 15. 

I 11 Henry VII. cap. 24. '9 Henry VII. cap. 3. 
** 3 Henry VII. cap. 13. 

tt 3 Henry VII. cap. 1 and 12. 11 Henry VII. cap. 3. 19 Henr? 
VII. cap, 14 



AD. 1509 J HENRY VII 71 

manner enlisted under some great lord, and were kept in 
readiness to assist him in all wars, insurrections, riots, vio- 
lences, and even in bearing evidence for him in courts of 
justice.* This disorder, which had prevailed during many 
reigns, when the law could give little protection to the subject, 
was then deeply rooted in England ; and it required all the 
vigilance and rigor of Henry to extirpate it. There is a story 
of his severity against this abuse ; and it seems to merit praise, 
though it is commonly cited as an instance of his avarice and 
rapacity. The earl of Oxford, his favorite general, in whom 
he always placed great and deserved confidence, having splen- 
didly entertained him at his castle of Heningham, was desirous 
of making a parade of his magnificence at the departure of his 
royal guest ; and ordered all his retainers, with their liveries 
and badges, to be drawn up in two lines, that their appearance 
might be the more gallant and splendid. "My lord," said the 
king, " I have heard much of your hospitality, but the truth 
far exceeds the report. These handsome gentlemen and yeo- 
men, whom I see on both sides of me, are no doubt your 
menial servants." The earl smiled, and confessed that his 
fortune was too narrow for such magnificence. " They are 
most of them," subjoined he, " my retainers, who are come to 
do me service at this time, when they know 1 am honored 
with your majesty's presence." The king started a little, and 
said, " By my faith, my lord, I thank you for your good cheer, 
but I must not allow my laws to be broken in my sight. My 
attorney must speak with you." Oxford is said to have paid 
no less than fifteen thousand marks, as a composition for his 
offence. 

The increase of the arts, more effectually than all the 
severities of law, put an end to this pernicious practice. The 
nobility, instead of vying with each other in the number and 
boldness of their retainers, acquired by degrees a more civilized 
species of emulation, and endeavored to excel in the splendor 
and elegance of their equipage, houses, and tables. The com- 
mon people, no longer maintained in vicious idleness by theii 
superiors, were obliged to learn some calling or industry, and 
became useful both to themselves and to others. Aud it must 
be acknowledged, in spite of those who declaim so violently 
against refinement in the arts, or what they are pleased to call 
luxury, that, as much as an industrious tradesman is both a 

* 3 Henry VII. cap. 12. 11 Henry VII. r>ap. 25 



72 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. l509 

better man and a better citizen than one of those idle retainers 
who formerly depended on the great families, so much is the 
life of a modern nobleman more laudable than that of an 
ancient baron.* 

But the most important law, in its consequences, which was 
enacted during the reign of Henry, was that by which the 
nobility and gentry acquired a power of breaking the ancient 
entails, and of alienating their estates.t By means of this law, 
joined to the beginning luxury and refinements of the age, the 
great fortunes of the barons were gradually dissipated, and the 
property of the commons increased in England. It is probable 
that Henry foresaw and intended this consequence ; because 
the constant scheme of his policy consisted in depressing the 
great, and exalting churchmen, lawyers, and men of new 
families, who were more dependent on him. 

The king's love of money naturally led him to encourage 
commerce, which increased his customs; but, if we may judge 
by most of the laws enacted during his reign, trade and indus- 
try were rather hurt than promoted by the care and attention 
given to them. Severe laws were made against taking interest 
for money, which was then denominated usury. $ Even the 
profits of exchange were prohibited, as savoring of usury, § 
which the superstition of the age zealously proscribed. All 
evasive contracts, by which profits could be made from the 
loan of money, were also carefully guarded against. || It is 
needless to observe how unreasonable and iniquitous these 
laws, how impossible to be executed, and how hurtful to trade, 
if they could take place. We may observe, however, to the 
praise of this king, that sometimes, in order to promote com- 
merce, he lent to merchants sums of money without interest, 
when he knew that their stock was not sufficient for those 
enterprises which they had in view.1T 

Laws were made against the exportation of money, plate, 
or bullion : ** a precaution which serves to no other purpose 



* See note C, at the end of the volume. 

t 4 Henry VII. cap. 24. The practice of breaking entails by means 
of a fine and recovery was introduced in the reign ot Edward IV. : but 
it was not, properly speaking, law. till the statute of Henry VII. : which, 
ky correcting some abuses that attended that practice, gave indirectly 
a sanction to it. 

J 3 Henry VII. cap. 5. § 3 Henry VII. cap 6 

H 7 Henry VII. cap. 8. V Polyd. Virg. 

** 4 Henry VII. cap 23. 



A.D. 1509.] HENRY Vil. 7S 

lhan to make more be exported. But so far was the anxiety 
on this head carried, that merchants alien, who imported com- 
modities into the kingdom, were obliged to invest in Eng- 
lish commodities all the money acquired by their sales, in 
order to prevent their conveying it away in a clandestine 
manner.* 

ft was prohibited to export horses ; as if that exportation 
did not encourage the breed, and render them more plentiful 
tu the kingdom. t In order to promote archery, no bows were 
(o be sold at a higher price than six shillings and fourpence, | 
reducing money to the denomination of our time. The only 
effect of this regulation must be, either that the people would 
oe supplied with bad bows, or none at all. Prices were also 
affixed to woollen cloth,* to caps and liats : || and the wages 
of laborers were regulated by law. TT It is evident, that thesi 
matters ought always to be left free, and be intrusted to the 
common course of business and commerce. To some it may 
appear surprising, that the price of a yard of scarlet cloth 
should be limited to six-and-twenty shillings, money of our 
age ; that of a yard of colored cloth to eighteen ; higher 
prices than these commodities bear at present ; and that the 
wages of a tradesman, such as a mason, bricklayer, tiler, 
etc., should be regulated at near tenpence a day ; which is 
not much inferior to the present wages given in some parts 
of England. Labor and commodities have certainly risen 
since the discovery of the West Indies ; but not so much in 
every particular as is generally imagined. The greater 
industry of the present times has increased the number of 
tradesmen and laborers, so as to keep wages nearer a par 
than could be expected from the great increase of gold and 
silver. Aud the additional art employed in the finer man- 
ufactures has even made some of these commodities fall 
below their former value. Not to mention, that merchants 
aud dealers, being contented with less profit than formerly, 
afford the goods cheaper to their customers. It appears by 
a statute of this reign,** that goods bought for sixteenpence 
would sometimes be sold by the merchants for three shillings. 
The commodities whose price has chiefly risen, are butcher's* 
. _ _____ _ j 

* 1 Henry VII. cap. 8. t 11 Henry VII. cap. li 

■ $ Henry VII. cap. 12. § 4 Henry VII. cap. 8. 

ft I Henry VII. cap. 9. f 11 Henry VII o. p. _? 

** t Henry VII. oap. 9. 
vor jn.- -D 



74 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [AD. 1 56£> 

meat, fowl, and fish, (especially the latter,) which cannot be 
much augmented in quantity by the increase of art and indus- 
try. The profession which then abounded most, and was 
sometimes embraced by persons of the lowest rank, was the 
church : by a clause of a statute, all clerks or students of the 
university were forbidden to beg, without a permission from 
the vice-chancellor.* 

One great cause of the low state of industry during this 
period, was the restraints put upon it , and the parliament, or 
rather the king, (for he was the prime mover in every thing), 
enlarged a little some of these limitations ; but not to the 
degree that was requisite. A law had been enacted during 
the reign of Henry IV., t that no man could bind his son or 
daughter to an apprenticeship, unless he were possessed of 
twenty shillings a year in land ; and Henry VII., because the 
decay of manufactures was complained of in Norwich from 
the want of hands, exempted that city from the penalties of 
the law. $ Afterwards the whole county of Norfolk obtained 
a like exemption with regard to some branches of the woollen 
manufacture.^ These absurd limitations proceeded from a 
desire of promoting husbandry, which, however, is never more 
effectually encouraged than by the increase of manufactures. 
For a like reason, the law enacted against enclosures, and for 
the keeping up of farm houses, || scarcely deserves the high 
praises bestowed on it by Lord Bacon. If husbandmen 
understand agriculture, and have « ready vent for their com- 
modities, we need not dread a diminution of the people 
employed in the country. All methods of supporting pop- 
ulousness, except by the interest of the proprietors, are violent 
and ineffectual. During a century and a half after this pe- 
riod, there was a frequent renewal of laws and edicts against 
depopulation ; whence we may infer, that none of them were 
evef executed. The natural course of improvement at last 
provided a remedy. 

One check to industry in England was the erecting of cor- 
porations ; an abuse which is not yet entirely corrected. A 
law was enacted, that corporations should not pass any by- 
laws without the consent of three of the chief officers of 
state. ^F They were prohibited from imposing tolls at theil 

* 11 Henry VII. cap. 23. ^ i 4 Hemy VII. c?p. h. 

• 11 Henry VII. cap. 1?. $ 12 Hen^y TUi cap. 1. 
J 4 Henry VIi. csp. 19. 1 19 Henry V'{) cap 7. 



A. D. 1509/ henry vn. 76 

gates.* The cities of Glocester and Worcester had even 
imposed tolls on the Severn, which were abolished.! 

There is a law of this reign, t containing a preamble, by 
which it appears, that the company of merchant adventurers 
in London had, by their own authority, debarred all the other 
merchants of the kingdom from trading to the great marts in 
the Low Countries, unless each trader previously paid them 
the sum of near seventy pounds. It is surprising that such a 
by-law (if it deserve the name) could ever be carried into 
execution, and that the authority of parliament should be 
requisite to abrogate it. 

It was during this reign, o". the second of August, 1492, 
a little before sunset, that Christopher Columbus, a Genoese, 
set out from Spain on his memorable voyage for the discovery 
of the western world ; and a lew years after, Vasquez de 
Gama, a Portuguese, passed the Cape of Good Hope, and 
opened a new passage to the East Indies. These great events 
were attended with important consequences to all the nations 
of Europe, even to such as were not immediately concerned 
in those naval enterprises. The enlargement of commerce 
and navigation increased industry and the arts every where : 
the nobles dissipated their fortunes in expensive pleasures 
men of an inferior rank both acquired a share in the landed 
property, and created to themselves a considerable property 
of a new kind, in stock, commodities, art, credit, and cor 
respondence. In some nations, the privileges of the commons 
increased by this increase of property : in most nations, the 
kings, finding arms to be dropped by the barons, who could 
no longer endure their former rude manner of life, established 
standing armies, and subdued the liberties of their kingdoms 
but in all places, the condition of the people, from the depres- 
sion of the petty tyrants by whom they had formerly been 
oppressed rather than governed, received great improvement ; 
and they acquired, if not entire liberty, at least the most 
considerable advantages of it. And as the general course 
of events thus tended to depress the nobles and exalt the 
people, Henry VII., who also embraced that system of policy, 
has acquired more praise than his institutions, strictly speak- 
ing, seem of themselves to deserve on account of any profound 
wisdom attending them. 

* 19 Henry VII. cap. 8. t 19 Henry VII cap. 18. 

t 1? Henry VII. cap. 6. 



b HISTORY OF EIIGLAND. [A D. 150** 

It was by accident only that the king had not a considera 
ble share ui those great naval discoveries, by which the pres 
ent age was so much distinguished. Columbus, after meeting 
with many repulses from the courts of Portugal and Spain, 
sent his brother Bartholomew to London, in order to explain 
his projects to Henry, and crave his protection for the execu- 
tion of them. The king invited him over to England ; but his 
brother, being taken by pirates, was detained in his voyage ; 
and Columbus, meanwhile, having obtained the countenance 
of Isabella, was supplied with a small fleet, and happily exe- 
cuted his enterprise. Henry was not discouraged by this 
disappointment ; he fitted out Sebastian Cabot, a Venetian, 
settled in Bristol, and sent him westwards in 1498, in search 
of new countries. Cabot discovered the main land of Amer- 
ica towards the sixtieth degree of northern latitude : he sailed 
southwards along the coast, and discovered Newfoundland 
and other countries; but returned to England without making 
any conquest or settlement. Elliot and other merchants in 
Bristol made a like attempt in 1502.* The king expended 
fourteen thousand pounds in building one ship, called the Great 
Harry.t She was, properly speaking, the first ship in the 
English navy. Before this period, when the prince wanted 
a fleet, he had no other expedient than hiring or pressing ships 
from the merchants. 

But though this improvement of navigation, and the discov- 
ery of both the Indies, was the most memorable incident that 
happened during this or any other period, it was not the only 
great event by which the age was distinguished. In 1453, 
Constantinople was taken by the Turks ; and the Greeks, 
among whom some remains of learning were still preserved, 
being scattered hy these barbarians, took shelter in Italy, and 
imported, together with their admirable language, a tincture 
of their science, and of their refined taste in poetry and elo- 
quence. About the same time, the purity of the Latin tongue 
was revived, the study of antiquity became fashionable, and 
the esteem for literature gradually propagated itself through- 
out every nation in Europe. The art of printing, invented 
about that time, extremely facilitated the progress of all these 
improvements : the invention of gunpowder changed the 
whole art of war : mighty innovations were soon after made 
in religion, such as not only affected those states that embraced 

* Rymer, vol. xiii. p. 37. t Stowe, p. 484. 



AD. 1509.] henry vn. 71 

them, but even those that adhered ;o the ancient faitK and 
worship ; and thus a general revolution was made in human 
affairs throughout this part of the world ; and men gradually 
attained that situation, with regard to commerce, arts, science, 
government, police, and cultivation, in which they have evei 
since persevered. Here, therefore, commences the useful, as 
well as the more agreeable part of modern annals ; certainty 
has place in all the considerable, and even most of the minute 
parts of historical narration ; a great variety of events, pre- 
served by printing, give the author the power of selecting, as 
well as adorning, the facts which he relates ; and as each 
incident has a reference to our present manners and situation, 
instructive lessons occur every moment during the course of 
the narration. Whoever carries his anxious researches into 
preceding periods, is moved by a curiosity, liberal indeed and 
commendable ; not by any necessity for acquiring: knowledge 
of public affairs, or the arts of civil government. 



78 



HISTORY OP ENGLAND. 



[A.D. 150<>. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

HENRY VIII. 
CONTEMPORARY MONARCHS 



Ext. of Germ. 

Maximilian 15i9 
Charles V 



K. of Scotland. I K. of France. 

James IV. ... . 1513 Louis XII. . . 151c 

James V. 154i I Francis 1. 

Mary. 



K. of Spain. 

Philip and 

Jane 15!( 

Charles V. 



Popes 

Julius II. . . 1513 

Leo X 1521 

Adrian VI. . . 1523 
Clement VII. 1534 
Paul 111. 



[1509.] The death of Henry VII. had been attended with 
as open and visible a joy among the people as decency would 
permit ; and the accession and coronation of his son, Henry 
VIII., spread universally a declared and unfeigned satisfac- 
tion. Instead of a monarch jealous, severe, and avaricious, 
who, in proportion as he advanced in years, was sinking still 
deeper in those unpopular vices, a young prince of eighteen 
had succeeded to the throne, who, even in the eyes of men of 
sense, gave promising hopes of his future conduct, much more 
in those of the people, always enchanted with novelty, youth, 
and royal dignity. The beauty and vigor of his person, ac 
companied with dexterity in every manly exercise, was furthei 
adorned with a blooming and ruddy countenance, with a lively 
air, with the appearance of spirit and activity in all his de- 
meanor.* His lather, in order to remove him from the knowl- 
edge of public business, had hitherto occupied him entirely in 
the pursuits of literature ; and the proficiency which he made 
gave no bad prognostic of his parts and capacity.! Even the 
vices of vehemence, ardor, and impatience, to which he was 
subject, and which afterwards degenerated into tyranny, were 
considered only as faults incident to unguarded youth, which 
would be corrected when time had brought him to greate, 
moderation and maturity. And as the contending titles of 
York and Lancaster were now at last fully united in his per- 
bou, men justly expected, from a prince obnoxious to no party, 
that impartiality of administration which had long been un- 
known in England. 



* T. Mori l.ucubr. p. 182. 



f Father Paul, lib. i. 



A.I) 1509. J henry vm. 7t» 

These favoiable prepossessions of the public were encour- 
aged by the measures which Henry embraced iu the com- 
mencement of his reign. His grandmother, the countess of 
Richmond and Derby, was still alive ; and as she was a 
woman much celebrated for prudence and virtue, he wisely 
showed great deference to her opinion in the establishment 
of bis new council. The members were, Warham, archbishop 
of Canterbury and chancellor ; the earl of Shrewsbury, stew 
ard ; Lord Herbert, chamberlain ; Sir Thomas Loved, master 
of the wards and constable of the Tower ; Sir Edward Poyn- 
ings, comptroller ; Sir Henry Marney, afterwards Lord Mar- 
ney ; Sir Thomas Darcy, afterwards Lord Darcy ; Thomas 
Ruthal, doctor of laws ; and Sir Henry Wyat.* These men 
had long been accustomed to business under the late king, 
and were the least unpopu/.ir of all the ministers employed by 
that monarch. 

But the chief competitors for favor and authority, under tho 
new king, were the earl of Surrey, treasurer, and Fox, bishop 
of Winchester, secretary and privy seal. This prelate, who 
enjoyed great credit during all the former reign, had acquired 
such habits of caution and frugality as he could not easily lay 
aside ; and he still opposed, by his remonstrances, those 
schemes of dissipation and expense, which the youth and pas- 
sions of Henry rendered agreeable to him. But Surrey was a 
more dexterous courtier ; and though few had borne a great- 
er share in the frugal politics of the late king, he knew how to 
conform himself to the humor of his new master ; and no one 
was so forward in promoting that liberality, pleasure, and mag- 
nificence, which began to prevail under the young monarch.! 
By this policy, he ingratiated himself with Henry ; he made 
advantage, as well as the other courtiers, of the lavish disposi- 
tion of his master ; and he engaged him in such a course of 
play and idleness as rendered him negligent of affairs, and 
willing to intrust the government of the state entirely into the 
hands of his ministers. The great treasures amassed by the 
late king were gradually dissipated in the giddy expenses of 
Henry. One party of pleasure succeeded to another : tilts, 
tournaments, and carousals were exhibited with all the mag- 
nificence of the age ; and as the present tranquillity of the pub- 
lic permitted the court to indulge itself in every amusement 

* Herbert, Stowe, p. 486. Holingshcd, p. 799. 
t Lord Herbert. 



80 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 15U*.) 

aerious business was but little attended to. Or, if the king 
intermitted the course of his festivity, he chieily employed him- 
self in an application to music and literature, which were his 
favorite pursuits, and which were well adapted to his genius. 
He had made such proficiency in the former art, as even to 
compose some pieces of church music, which were sung in his 
chapel.* He was initiated in the elegant learning of the an- 
cients. And though he was so unfortunate as to be seduced 
into a study of the barren controversies of the schools, which 
were then fashionable, and had chosen Thomas Aquinas for 
his favorite author, he still discovered a capacity fitted for 
more useful and entertaining knowledge. 

The frank and careless humor of the king, as it led him to 
dissipate the treasures amassed by his father, rendered him 
negligent in protecting the instruments whom that prince had 
employed in his extortions. A proclamation being issued to 
encourage complaints, the rage of the people was let loose 
on all informers, who had so long exercised an unbounded 
tyranny over the nation :f they were thrown into prison, con- 
demned to the pillory, and most of them lost their lives by the 
violence of the populace. Empson and Dudley, who were 
most exposed to public hatred, were immediately summoned 
before the council, in order to answer for their conduct, which 
had rendered them so obnoxious. Empson nude a shrewd 
apology for himself, as well as for his associate. He told the 
council, that so far from his being justly exposed to censure for 
his past conduct, his enemies themselves grounded their clamor 
on actions which seemed rather to merit rewaid and appro 
bation ; that a strict execution of law was the (.rime of which 
he and Dudley were accused ; though that law had been 
established by general consent, and though they had acted in 
obedience to the king, to whom the administration of justice 
was intrusted by the constitution : that it belonged not to 
them, who were instruments in the hands of supreme power, 
to determine what laws were recent or obsolete, expedient or 
hurtful ; since they were all alike valid, so long as they 
remained unrepealed by the legislature : that it was natural 
lor a licentious populace to murmur against the restraints of 
authority ; but all wise states had ever made their glory con- 



* Lord Herbert. 

t Herbert. Stovve, p. 48G. Holingshed, p. 799. Pulyd Virg. lib 

*xvii. 



&.. D. 1509. ] iienhv viii. 8t 

sist iii the just distribution of rewards and punishments, ana 
had annexed the former to the observance and enforcement 
of the laws, the latter to their violation and infraction ; and 
that a sudden overthrow of all government might be expected 
where the judges were committed to the mercy of the crimi- 
nals, the rulers to that of the subjects.* 

Notwithstanding this defence, Empson and Dudley were 
sent to the Tower, and soon after brought to their trial. The 
strict execution of laws, however obsolete, could never be 
imputed to them as a crime in a court of judicature ; and it irf 
likely that, even where they had exercised arbitrary power, 
the king, as they had acted by the secret commands of his 
father, was not willing that their conduct should undergo too 
severe a scrutiny. In order, therefore, to gratify the people 
with the punishment of these obnoxious ministers, crimes very 
improbable, or indeed absolutely impossible, were charged 
upon them : that they had entered into a conspiracy againbt 
the sovereign, and had intended, on the death of the late king, 
to have seized by force the administration of government. 
The jury were so far moved by popular prejudices, joined to 
court influence, as to give a verdict against them ; which was 
afterwards confirmed by a bill of attainder in parliament,'! and, 
at the earnest desire of the people, was executed by warrant 
from the king. Thus, in those arbitrary times, justice was 
equally violated, whether the king sought power and riches, 
or courted popularity. 

Henry, while he punished the instruments of past tyranny, 
had yet such a deference to former engagements as to delib- 
erate, immediately after his accession, concerning the celebra- 
tion of his marriage with the infanta Catharine, to whom he 
had been affianced during his father's lifetime. Her former 
marriage with his brother, and the inequality of their years, 
were the chief objections urged against his espousing her ; 
but, on the other hand, the advantages of her known virtue, 

* Herbert, Holingshed, p. 804. 

t This parliament met on the 21st January, 1510. A law was 
thete enacted, in order to prevent some abuses which had prevailed 
during tbe late reign. The forfeiture upon the penal statutes was 
reduced to the term of three years. Costs and damages were given 
against informers upon acquittal of the accused: more severe punish- 
ments were enacted against perjury : the false inquisitions procured 
by Empson and Dudley were declared null and invalid. Traverses 
were allowed; and the time of tendering them enlarged. 1 Hen y 
Vin. c. 8, 10, 11, 12. 



82 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D.I 509 

modesty, and sweetness of disposition were insisted on ; the 
affection which she bore to the king ; the large, dowry to 
which she was entitled as princess of Wales ; the interest of 
cementing a close alliance with Spain ; the necessity of find- 
ing some confederate to counterbalance the power of France ; 
the expediency of fulfilling the engagements of the late king. 
When these considerations were weighed, they determined the 
council, though contrary to the opinion of the primate, to give 
Henry their advice for celebrating the marriage. The countess 
of Richmond, who had concurred in the same sentiments with 
the council, died soon after the marriage of her grandson. 

The popularity of Henry's government, his undisputed 
title, his extensive authority, his large treasures, the tran- 
quillity of his subjects, were circumstances which rendered 
his domestic administration easy and prosperous : the situation 
of foreign affairs was no less happy and desirable. Italy con- 
tinued still, as during the late reign, to be the centre of all the 
wars and negotiations of the European princes ; and Henry's 
alliance was courted by all parties ; at the same time that he 
was not engaged by any immediate interest or necessity to 
take part with any. Lewis XII. of France, after his conquest 
af Milan, was the only great prince that possessed any terri- 
tory in Italy ; and could he have remained in tranquillity, he 
was enabled by his situation to prescribe laws to all the Italian 
princes and republics, and to hold the balance among them. 
But the desire of making a conquest of Naples, to which he 
had the same title or pretensions with his predecessor, still 
engaged him in new enterprises : and as he foresaw opposi- 
tion from Ferdinand, who was connected both by treaties and 
affinity with Frederick of Naples, he endeavored by the offers 
of interest, to which the ears of that monarch were ever open, 
to engage him in an opposite confederacy. He settled with 
him a plan for the partition of the kingdom of Naples, and 
the expulsion of Frederick; a plan which the politicians of 
that age rega»ded as the most egregious imprudence in the 
Fren?h monarch, and the greatest perfidy in the Spanish. 
Frederick, supported only by subjects who were either discon- 
tented with his government or indifferent about his fortunes, 
was unable to resist so powerful a confederacy, and was 
deprived of his dominions : but he had the satisfaction to see 
Naples immediately prove the source of contention among his 
enemies. Ferdinand gave secret orders to his general, Gon- 
salvo, whom the Spaniards honor with the appellation of the 



A D. 150'.) I hk.xrv vn: Hi 

•'great captain,' to attack the armies of France, and make 
himself master of all the dominions of Naples. Gonsalvo 
prevailed in every enterprise, defeated the French in two 
pitched battles, and insured to his prince the entire possession 
of that kingdom. Lewis, unable to procure redress by force 
of arms, was obliged to enter into a fruitless negotiation with 
Ferdinand for the recovery of his share of the partition ; and 
all Italy, during gome time, was held in suspense between 
these two powerful monarchs. 

There has scarcely been any period when the balance ol 
power was better secured in Europe, and seemed more able 
to maintain itself without any anxious concern or attention of 
the princes. Several great monarchies were established; and 
no one so far surpassed the rest as to give any foundation or 
even pretence for jealousy. England was united in domestic 
peace, and by its situation happily secured from the invasion 
of foreigners. The coalition of the several kingdoms of Spain 
had formed one powerful monarchy, which Ferdinand admin- 
istered with arts, fraudulent indeed and deceitful, but full of 
vigor and ability. Lewis XII., a gallant and generous prince, 
had, by espousing Anne of Brittany, widow to his predecessor, 
preserved the union with that principality, on which the safety 
of his kingdom so much depended. Maximilian, the emperor, 
besides the hereditary dominions of the Austrian family 
maintained authority in the empire, and, notwithstanding the 
levity of his character, was able to unite the German princes in 
any great plan of interest, at least of defence. Charles, prince 
of Castile, grandson to Maximilian and Ferdinand, had already 
succeeded to the rich dominions of the house of Burgundy ; 
and being as yet in early youth, the government was intrust- 
ed to Margaret of Savoy, his aunt, a princess endowed with 
signal prudence and virtue. The internal force of these 
several powerful states, by balancing each other, might long 
have maintained general tranquillity, had not the active and 
enterprising genius of Julius II., an ambitious pontiff, first 
excited the flames of war and discord among them. By his 
intrigues, a league had been formed at Cambray,* between 
himself, Maximilian, Lewis, and Ferdinand ; and the object 
of this great confederacy was to overwhelm, by their united 
arms, the commonwealth of Venice. Henry, without any 
motive from interest or passion, allowed his name to bn 

* In 1508 



S4 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1510 

inserted in the confederacy. This oppressive and iniquitous 
league was but too successful against the republic. 

The great force and secure situation of the considerable 
monarchies prevented any one from aspiring to any conquest 
of moment ; and though this consideration could not maintain 
general peace, or remedy the natural inquietude of men, it 
rendered the princes of this age more disposed to desert 
engagements, and change their alliances, in which they were 
retained by humor and caprice, rather than by any natural 
or durable interest. [1510.] Julius had no sooner humbled 
the Venetian republic, than he was inspired with a nobler 
ambition that of expelling all foreigners from Italy, or, to 
speak in a style affected by the Italians of that age, the free- 
ing of that country entirely from the dominion of barbarians.* 
He was determined to make the tempest fall first upon Lewis ; 
and in order to pave the way for this great enterprise, he at 
once sought for a ground of quarrel with that monarch, and 
courted the alliance of other princes. He declared war 
against the duke of Ferrara, the confederate of Lewis. He 
solicited the favor of England, by sending Henry a sacred 
rose, perfumed with musk and anointed with chrism. f He 
engaged in his interests Bambridge, archbishop of York, and 
Henry's ambassador at Rome, whom he soon after created a 
cardinal He drew over Ferdinand to his party, though that 
monarch at first made no declaration of his intentions. And 
what he chiefly valued, he formed a treaty with the Swiss 
cantons, who, enraged by some neglects put upon them by 
Lewis, accompanied with contumelious expressions, had quit- 
ted the alliance of France, and waited for an opportunity of 
revenging themselves on that nation. 

[1511.] While the French monarch repelled the attacks 
of his enemies, he thought it also requisite to make an attempt 
on the pope himself, and to despoil him as much as possible 
of that sacred character which chiefly rendered him formida- 
ble. He engaged some cardinals, disgusted with the violence 
of Julius, to desert him ; and by their authority he was 
determined, in conjunction with Maximilian, who still adhered 
*. v's alliance, to call a general council, which might reform 
th3 church, and check the exorbitances of the Roman pontiff. 
A council was summoned at Pisa, which from the beginning 
bore a very inauspicious aspect, and promised little success t« 

* Guieciard. lit viii. t Spel. Coned, vol. ii. p. 7?-S 



A. D. 1511.] henr\ vni. 6J) 

its adherents. Except a few French bishops, who unw iiingly 
obeyed the king's commands in attending the council, all the 
other prelates kept aloof from an assembly which they regard- 
ed as the offspring of faction, intrigue, and worldly politics. 
Even Pisa, the place of their residence, showed them signa 
of contempt ; which engaged them to transfer their session to 
Milan, a city under the dominion of the French monarch 
Notwithstanding this advantage, they did not experience much 
more respectful treatment from the inhabitants of Milan ; and 
found it necessary to make another remove to Lyons.* Lewis 
himself fortified these violent prejudices in favor of papal 
authority, by the symptoms which he discovered of regard, 
deference, and submission to Julius, whom he always spared, 
even when fortune had thrown into his hands the most invit 
ing opportunities of humbling him. And as it was known 
that his consort, who had great influence over him, was ex- 
tremely disquieted in mind on account of his dissensions with 
the holy father, all men prognosticated to Julius final success 
in this unequal contest. 

The enterprising pontiff knew his advantages, and availed 
himself of them with the utmost temerity and insolence. So 
much had he neglected his sacerdotal character, that he acted 
in person at the siege of Mirandola, visited the trenches, saw 
«ome of his attendants killed by his side, and, like a young 
soldier, cheerfully bore all the rigors of winter and a severe 
season, in pursuit of military glory :t yet was he still able to 
throw, even on his most moderate opponents, the charge of 
impiety and profaneness. He summoned a council at the 
Lateran : he put Pisa under an interdict, and all the places 
which gave shelter to the schismatical council : he excommu- 
nicated the cardinals and prelates who attended it : he even 
pointed his spiritual thunder against the princes who adhered 
to it : he freed their subjects from all oaths of allegiance, and 
gave their dominions to every one who could take possession 
of them. 

Ferdinand of Arragon, who had acquired the surname of 
Catholic, regarded the cause of the pope and of religion 
only as a cover to his ambition and selfish politics : Henry, 
naturally sincere and sanguine in his temuer, and the more 
ro on account of his youth and inexperience, wa-s mcved with 
a hearty desire of protecting the pope from the ODpre^ion to 



* Guicciard. lib. >• t G-rn < "-vvJ lib L*- 



HU HISTt RY OF ENGLAND, f A. D. 1512. 

which he believed him exposed from the ambitious enterprises 
of Lewis. [1512.] Hopes had been given him by Julius, 
that the title of "most Christian king," which had hitherto 
been annexed to the crown of France, and which was regard- 
ed as its most precious ornament, should, in reward of his 
services, be transferred to that of England.* Impatient also 
of acquiring that, distinction in Europe, to which his power 
and opulence entitled him, he could not long remain neuter 
amidst the noise of arms ; and the natural enmity of the Eng- 
lish against France, as well as their ancient claims upon that 
kingdom, led Henry to join that alliance which the pope, 
Spain, and Venice had formed against the French monarch. 
A herald was sent to Paris, to exhort Lewis not to wage 
impious war against the sove" ,a ign pontiff; and when he 
returned without success, auotner was sent to demand the 
ancient patrimonial provinces, Anjou, Maine, Guienne, aud 
Normandy. This message was understood to be a declara- 
tion of war ; and a parliament, being summoned, readily 
granted supplies for a purpose so much favored by the English 
aation.t 

Buonaviso, aii agent of the pope's at London, had been 
sorrupted by the court of France, and had previously revealed 
to Lewis all the measures which Henry was concerting against 
aim. But this infidelity did the king inconsiderable prejudice, 
in comparison of the treachery which he experinced from the 
selfish purposes of the ally on whom he chiefly relied foi 
assistance. Ferdinand, his father-in-law, had so long pei- 
severed in a course of crooked politics, that he began even to 
value himself on his dexterity in fraud and artifice ; and he 
made a boast of those shameful successes. Being told one 
day, that Lewis, a prince of a very different character, had 
complained of his having once cheated him : " He lies, the 
drunkard!" said he; "I have cheated him above twenty 
times." This prince considered his close connections with 
Henry only as the means which enabled him the better to 
take advantage of his want of experience. He advised him 
not to invade France by the way of Calais, where he himself 
should not have it in his power to assist him : he exhorted him 
sather to send forces to Fontarabia, whence he could easily 



* Gricciard. lib. xi. P. Daniel, vol. ii. p. ?893. Herbert Hoi 
ICgshed p. 831. 

t Herbert. Holingshed, p. 811. 



AD. 1512.1 HENKY vni. 97 

make a conquest of Guienne, a province in which it was 
imagined the English had still some adherents. He promised 
to assist this conquest by the junction of a Spanish army. 
And so forward did he seem to promote the interests of his 
son-in-law, that he even sent vessels to England, m order to 
transport over the lorces which Henry had levied for that 
purpose. The marquis of Dorset commanded this armament, 
which consisted often thousand men, mostly infantry; Lord 
Howard, son of the earl of Surrey, Lord Broke, Lord Ferrars, 
and many others of the young gentry and nobility, accompanied 
him in this service. Ail were on lire to distinguish themselves 
by military achievements, and To make a conquest of import- 
ance for their master. The secret purpose of Ferdinand, in 
this unexampled generosity, was suspected by nobody. 

The small kingdom of Navarre lies on the frontiers between 
France and Spain ; and as John d' Albert, the sovereign, was 
connected by friendship and alliance with Lewis, the oppor- 
tunity seemed favorable to Ferdinand, while the English forces 
were conjoined with his own, and while all adherents to the couu 
cil of Pisa lay under the sentence of excommunication, to put 
himself in possession of these dominions. No sooner, therefore, 
was Dorset landed in Guipiscoa, than the Spanish monarch 
declared his readiness to join him with his forces, to make with 
united arms an invasion of France, and to form the siege of 
Bayonne, which opened the way into Guienne : * but he re- 
marked to the English general how dangerous it might prove 
to leave behind them the kingdom of Navarre, which, being 
in close alliance with France, could easily give admittance to 
the enemy, and cut off all communication between Spain and 
the combined armies. To provide against so dangerous an 
event, he required that John should stipulate a neutrality in 
the present war ; and when the prince expressed his willing- 
ness to enter into any engagement for that purpose, he also 
required that security should be given for the strict observance 
of it. John having likewise agreed to this condition, Ferdinand 
demanded that he should deliver into his hands six of the most 
considerable places of his dominions, together with his eldest 
son as a hostage. These were not terms to be proposed to a 
sovereign ; and as the Spanish monarch expected a refusal, 
he gave immediate orders to the duke of Alva, his general, to 
make an invasion on Navarre, and to reduce that kingdom 



* Herbert- Holir.gshed. p. 81.1 



88 rnsTOR of England L A.D. 1012 

Alva soon made himself master of all the smaller towns ; and 
being ready to form the siege of Pampeluna, the capital, he 
summoned the marquis of Dorset to join him with the English 
army, and concert together all their operations. 

Dorset began to suspect that the interests of his master were 
very little regarded in all these transactions ; and having no 
orders to invade the kingdom of Navarre, or make war any 
where but in France, he refused to take any part in the enter- 
prise. He remained therefore in his quarters at Fontarabia ; 
but so subtle was the contrivance of Ferdinand, that even 
while the English army lay in that situation, it was almost 
equally serviceable to his purpose, as if it had acted in con- 
junction with his own. It kept the French army in awe, 
and prevented it from advancing to succor the kingdom of 
Navarre ; so that Ana, having full leisure to conduct the 
siege, made himself master of Pampeluna, and obliged John 
to seek for shelter in France. The Spanish general applied 
again to Dorset, and proposed to conduct with united counsels 
the operations of the '-holy league," (so it was called,) against 
Lewis : but as he still declined forming the siege of Bayonne, 
and rather insisted on the invasion of the principality of Bearne, 
a part of the king of Navarre's dominions which lies on the 
French side of the Pyrenees, Dorset, justly suspicious of his 
sinister intentions, represented that, without new orders from 
his master, he could not concur in such an undertaking. In 
order to procure these orders, Ferdinand despatched Martin de 
Ampois to London ; and persuaded Henry that, by the refrac 
tory and scrupulous humor of the English general, the most 
favorable opportunities were lost ; and that it was necessary 
he should on all occasions act in concert with the Spanish 
commander, who was best acquainted with the situation of the 
country, and the reasons of every operation. But before orders 
to this purpose reached Spain, Dorset had become extremely 
impatient ; and observing that his further stay served not to 
promote the main undertaking, and that his army was daily 
perishing by want and sickness, he demanded shipping from 
Ferdinand to transport them back to England. Ferdinand, 
who was bound by treaty to furnish him with this supply when- 
ever demanded, was at length, after many delays, obliged to 
yield to his importunity ; and Dorset, embarking his troops, 
prepared himself for the voyage. Meanwhile the messenger 
arrived with orders from Henry that the troops should remain 
in Spain ; bu^ the soldiers were so discontented with the treat 



A. 1). 1512.] henry vm. 8 

inent which they had met with, that they mutinied, and obliged 
their commanders to set sail for England. Henry was much 
displeased with the ill success of this enterprise ; and it was 
with difficulty that Dorset, by explaining the fraudulent con- 
duct of Ferdinand, was at last able to appease him. 

There happened this summer an action at sea, which biought 
not any more decisive advantage to the English. Sir Thomas 
Knevet, master of horse, was sent to the coast of Brittany with 
a fleet of forty-five sail ; and he carried with him Sir Charles 
Brandon, Sir John Carew, and many other young courtiers, 
who longed for an opportunity of displaying their valor. After 
they had committed some depredations, a French fleet of thirty 
nine sail issued from Brest, under the command of Primauget, 
and began an engagement with the English. Fire seized the 
ship of Primauget ; who, finding his destruction inevitable, bore 
down upon the vessel of the English admiral, and grappling 
with her, resolved to make her share his fate. Both fleets 
stood some time in suspense, as spectators of this dreadful 
engagement ; and all men saw Avith horror the flames which 
consumed both vessels, and heard the cries of fury and. de- 
spair which came from the miserable combatants. At last the 
French vessel blew up ; and at the same time destroyed the 
English.* The rest of the French fleet made their escape 
into different harbors. 

The war which England waged against France, though it 
brought no advantage to the former kingdom, was of great 
prejudice to the latter ; and by obliging Lewis to withdraw his 
forces for the defence of his own dominions, lost him that 
superiority which his arms in the beginning of the campaign 
had attained in Italy. Gaston de Foix, his nephew, a young 
hero, had been intrusted with the command of the French 
forces ; and in a few months performed such feats of military 
art and prowess, as were sufficient to render illustrious the life 
of the oldest captain. t His career finished with the great 
battle of Ravenna, which, after the most obstinate conflict, he 
gained over the Spanish and papal armies. He perished tho 
very moment his victory was complete ; and with him perished 
the fortune of the French arms in Italy. The Swiss, who had 
rendered themselves extremely formidable by their bands of dis 
ciplined infantry, invaded the Milanese with a numerous army 



* Polyd. v'rg. lib xxvii. Stowe, p. 490. Lanquet's Epitome o-' 
Chronicles, fo> 2~:J. t Guicciard. lib. x 



90 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1 C 13 

and raised up that inconstant people to a revolt against the 
dominion of France. Genoa followed the example of the 
dnchy : and thus Lewis in a few weeks entirely lost his Italian 
■/ionqiK.sts, except some garrisons ; and Maximilian Sforza, tht 
son of Ludovic, was reinstated in possession of Milan. [1513.] 

Julius discovered extreme joy on the discomfiture of the 
French ; and the more so as he had been heholden for it 
to the Swiss, a people whose councils he hope." he should 
always be able to influence and govern. The pontiff survived 
this success a very little time ; and in his place was chosen 
John dc Medicis, -who took the appellation of Leo X., and 
proved one of the most illustrious princes that ever sat on the 
papal throne. Humane, beneficent, generous, affable ; the 
patron of every art, and friend of every virtue;* he had a 
soul no less capable of forming great designs than his prede- 
cessor, but was more gentle, pliant, and artful in employing 
means for the execution of them. The sole defect, indeed, 
of his character was too great finesse and artifice ; a fault 
which, both as a priest and an Italian, it was difficult for him 
to avoid. By the negotiations of Leo, the emperor Maximilian 
was detached from the French interest ; and Henry, notwith- 
standing his disappointments in the former campaign, was still 
encouraged to prosecute his Avarlike measures against Lewis. 

Henry had summoned a new session of parliament^ and 
obtained a supply for his enterprise. It was a poll-tax, and 
imposed different sums, according to the station and richer! 
of the person. A duke paid ten marks, an earl five pounds. 
a baron four pounds, a knight »four marks ; every man 
valued at eight hundred pounds in goods, four marks. An 
imposition was also granted of two fifteenths and four tenths. | 
By these supplies, joined to the treasure which had been left 
by his father, and which was not yet entirely dissipated, he 
was enabled to levy a great army, and render himself for- 
midable to his enemy. The English are said to have beeu 
much encouraged, in this enterprise, by the arrival of a vessel 
in the Thames under the papal banner. It carried presents 
of wine and hams to the king and the more eminent 
courtiers ; and such fond devotion was at that time enter- 
tained towards the court of Rome, that these trivial presents 
were every where received with the greatest triumph and 
exultation. 



* Father Paul. lib. i T November 4. 1512. 



A.. D. 1513] henky vm. Di 

In order to prevent all disturbances from Scotland whi.e 
Henry's arms should be employed on the continent, Dr. West, 
dean of Windsor, was despatched on an embassy to James, 
the king's brother-in-law ; and instructions were given him to 
accommodate all differences between the kingdoms, as well 
as to discover the intentions of the court of Scotland.* Some 
complaints had already been made on both sides. One Bar- 
ton, a Scotchman, having suffered injuries from the Portu- 
guese, for which he could obtain no redress, liad procured 
letters of marque against that nation ; but he had no sooner 
put to sea than he was guilty of the grossest abuses, com- 
mitted depredations upon the English, and much infested the 
narrow seas.t Lord Howard and Sir Edward Howard, admi- 
rals, and sons of the earl of Surrey, sailing out against him, 
fought him in a desperate action, where the pirate was killed ; 
and they brought his shipa into the Thames. As Henry 
refused all satisfaction for this act of justice, some of the 
borderers, who wanted but a pretence for depredations, 
entered England under the command of Lord Hume, warden 
of the marches, and ccnmitted great ravages on that king- 
dom. Notwithstanding these mutual grounds of dissatisfac- 
tion, matters might easily have been accommodated, had it 
not been for Henry's intended invasion of France, which 
roused the jealousy of the Scottish nation. + The ancient 
league which subsisted between France and Scotland was 
conceived to be the strongest band of connection ; and the 
Scots uuiversally believed, that were it not for the counte- 
nance which they received from this foreign alliance, they 
had never been able so long to maintain their independence 
against a people so much superior. James was further incited 
to take part in the quarrel by the invitations of Anne, queen 
of France, whose knight he had ever in all tournaments pro- 
fessed himself, and who summoned him, according to the ideas 
of romantic gallantry prevalent in that age, to take the field 
in her defence, and prove himself her true and valoroup 
champion. The remonstrances of his consort and of his 
wisest counsellors were in vain opposed to the martial ardor 
of this prince. He first sent a squadron of ships to the 
assistance of France ; the only fleet which Scotland seems 



* Po'.yd. Virg. lib. xxvii. 

t Stowe, p. 4S9. Holinijshed, p. 811. 

t Buchanan, lib. xii. Drummond in the Life of James IV. 



\t'4 HISTORY O* ENGLAND. |A.D. 1513 

ever to have possessed. And though he still made profession? 
of maintaining a neutrality, the English ambassador easih 
foresaw that a war would in the end prove inevitable ; and nc 
gave warning of the danger to his master, who sent the ear! 
of Surrey to put the borders in a posture of defence, and to 
resist the expected invasion of the enemy. 

Henry, all on fire for military fame, was little discouraged 
by this appearance of a diversion from the north ; and so 
much the less, as he flattered himself with the assistance ol 
all the considerable potentates of Europe in his invasion ol 
France. The pope still continued to thunder out his excom- 
munications against Lewis and all the adherents of the schis- 
matical council : the Swiss cantons made professions of violent 
animosity against France : the ambassadors of Ferdinand 
and Maximilian had signed with those of Henry a treaty of 
alliance against that power, and had stipulated the time and 
place of their intended invasion : and though Ferdinand dis- 
avowed his ambassador, and even signed a truce for a twelve- 
month with the common enemy, Henry was not yet fully con- 
vinced of his selfish and sinister intentions, and still hoped for 
his concurrence after the expiration of that term. He had 
now got a minister who complied with all his inclinations, and 
flattered him in every scheme to which his sanguine and im- 
petuous temper was inclined. 

Thomas Wolsey, dean of Lincoln, and almoner to the king, 
surpassed in favor all his ministers, and was fast advancing 
towards that unrivalled grandeur which he afterwards attained. 
This man was son of a butcher at Ipswich ; but having got 
a learned education, and being endowed with an excellent 
capacity, he was admitted into the marquis of Dorset's family 
as tutor to that nobleman's children, and soon gained the 
friendship and countenance of his patron.* He was recom- 
mended to be chaplain to Henry VII. ; and being employed 
by that monarch in a secret negotiation, which regarded 
his intended marriage with Margaret of Savoy, Maximilian's 
daughter, he acquitted himself to the king's satisfaction, and 
obtained the praise both of diligence and dexterity in his con- 
duct.! That prince, having given him a commission to Maxi- 
milian, who at that time resided in Brussels, was surprised, in 
less than three days after, to see Wolsey present himseli 



* Stowe, p. 997. 

t Cavendish. Fiddes's Life of Wolsey. Stowe. 



A. D. 1513.; henry vni 93 

before him ; and supposing that he had protracted his depart 
ure, he began to reprove him for the dilatory execution of 
his orders. Wolsey informed him that he had just returned 
from Brussels, and had successfully fulfilled all his majesty's 
commands. "But on second thoughts," said the king, "I 
found that somewhat was omitted in your orders ; and have 
sent a messenger after you with fuller instructions." " I met 
the messenger," replied Wolsey, " on ray return : but as 1 
had reflected on that omission, I ventured of myself to execute 
what I knew must be your majesty's intentions." The death 
of Henry soon after this incident retarded the advancement 
of Wolsey, and prevented his reaping any advantage from the 
good opinion which that monarch had entertained of him : but 
thenceforwards he was looked on at court as a rising man ; 
and Fox, bishop of Winchester, cast his eye upon him as one 
who might be serviceable to him in his present situation.* 
This prelate, observing that the earl of Surrey had totally 
eclipsed him in favor, resolved to introduce Wolsey to the 
young prince's familiarity ; and hoped that he might rival 
Surrey in his insinuating arts, and yet be contented to act in 
the cabinet a part subordinate to Fox himself, who had pro- 
moted him. In a little time, Wolsey gained so much on the 
king, that he supplanted both Surrey in his favor, and Fox in 
his trust and confidence. Being admitted to Henry's parties 
of pleasure, he took the lead in every jovial conversation, and 
promoted all that frolic and entertainment which he found 
suitable to the age and inclination of the young monarch. 
Neither his own years, which were near forty, nor his charac- 
ter of a clergyman, were any restraint upon him, or engaged 
him to check, by any useless severity, the gayety in which 
Henry, who had small propension to debauchery, passed his 
careless hours. During the intervals of amusement, he intro- 
duced business, and insinuated those maxims of conduct 
which he was desirous his master should adopt. He observed 
to him, that while he intrusted his affairs into the hands of his 
father's counsellors, he had the advantage indeed of employing 
men of wisdom and experience, but men who owed not their 
promotion to his favor, and who scarcely thought themselves 
accountable to him for the exercise of their authority : that 
by the factions, and cabals, and jealousies which had long 
prevailed among them, they more obstructed the advincement 

* Antiq. Brit. Eccles. p. 309. Polj-rl Vivo-, ih. xxvii 



94 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1513 

of his affairs, than they promoted it by the knowledge which 
age and practice had conferred upon them : that while hu 
thought proper to pass his time in those pleasures to which his 
age and royal fortune invited him, and in those studies which 
would in time enable him to sway the sceptre with absolute 
authority, his best system of government would be, to intrust 
his authority into the hands of some one person who was the 
creature of his will, and who could entertain no view but. that 
of promoting his service : and that if this minister had also 
the same relish for pleasure with himself, and the same 
taste for science, he could more easily, at intervals, account 
to him for his whole conduct, and introduce his master grad- 
ually into the knowledge of public business ; and thus, with 
out tedious constraint or application, initiate him in the science, 
of government.* 

Henry entered into all the views of Wolsey ; and finding 
no one so capable of executing this plan of administration as 
the person who proposed it, he soon advanced his favorite, 
from being the companion of his pleasures, to be a member 
of his council ; and from being a member of his council, to 
be his sole and absolute minister. By this rapid advancement 
and uncontrolled authority, the character and genius of Wol- 
sey had full opportunity to display itself. Insatiable in his 
acquisitions, but still more magnificent in his expense : of 
extensive capacity, but still more unbounded enterprise : ambi 
tious of power, but still more desirous of glory : insinuating, 
engaging, persuasive ; and, by turns, lofty, elevated, com 
manding : haughty to his equals, but affable to his dependents , 
oppressive to the people, but liberal to his friends ; more gen- 
erous than grateful; less moved by injuries than by contempt ; 
he was framed to take the ascendant in every intercourse with 
others, but exerted this superiority of nature with such osten- 
tation as exposed him to envy, and made every one willing to 
recall the original inferiority, or rather meanness, of his fortune. 

The branch of administration in which Henry most exerted 
himself, while he gave his entire confidt nee to Wolsey, was 
the military ; which, as it suited the natural gallantry and 
bravery of his temper, as well as the ardor of his youth, was 
the principal object of his attention. Finding that Lewis had 
made great preparations both by sea and land to resist him, he 
was no less careful to levy a formidable army, and equip a 

* Cavendish, p. 12. Stowe, p. 499- 



A.D. 1513. j hicnry vm 91 

considerable fleet for the invasion of France. Tht command 
of the fleet was intrusted to Sir Edward Howard ; who, after 
scouring the Channel for some time, presented himself before 
Brest, where the French navy then lay ; and he challenged 
them to a combat. The French admiral, who expected from 
the Mediterranean a reinforcement of some galleys under the 
command of Prejeant de Bidoux, kept within the harbor, and 
saw with patience the English burn and destroy the country 
in the neighborhood. At last Prejeant arrived with six galleys, 
and put into Conquet, a place within a few leagues of Brest ; 
where he secured himself behind some batteries, which he 
had planted on rocks that lay on each side of him. Howard 
was, notwithstanding, determined to make an attack upon him ; 
and as he had but two galleys, he took himself the command 
of one, and gave the other to Lord Ferrars. He was followed 
by some row-barges and some crayers under the command of 
Sir Thomas Cheyney, Sir William Sidney, and other officers 
of distinction. He immediately fastened on Prejeant's ship, 
and leaped on board of her, attended by one Carroz, a Span- 
ish cavalier, and seventeen Englishmen. The cable, mean- 
while, which fastened his ship to that of the enemy, being cut, 
the admiral was thus left in the hands of the French ; and as 
he still continued the combat with great gallantry, he was 
pushed overboard by their pikes.* Lord Ferrars, seeing the 
admiral's galley fall of, followed with the other small vessels ; 
and the whole fleet was so discouraged by the loss of theii 
commander, that they retired from beibre Brest. t The French 
navy came out of harbor, and even ventured to invade the 
coast of Sussex. They were repulsed, and Prejeant, theii 
commander, lost an eye by the shot of an arrow. Lord How- 
ard, brother to the deceased admiral, succeeded to the com 
mand of the English fleet; and little memorable passed at sea 
during this summer. 

Great preparations had been making at land, during tha 
whole winter, for an invasion on France by the way of Calais, 
but the summer was well advanced before every thing was ir. 

* It was a maxim of Howard's, that no admiral was good for any 
thing that was not brave even to a degree of madness. As the se? 
service requires much less plan and contrivance, and capacity thai- 
the land, this maxim lias great plausibility and appearance of tilth- 
though the fate of Howard himself may serve o- a proof, that eve* 
tnere courage ongiit to be tempered with discref-Mi. 

J Stowe, p 491 Herber*.- Ho!in;?shesI, p. S. 1 -".. 



96 HISTORY OF ENGLANb. [A. D. 1513 

sufficient readiness for the intended enterprise. Trie long 
peace which the kingdom had enjoyed, had somewhat unfitted 
the English for military expeditions ; and the great change 
which had lately been introduced in the an of war, had ren- 
dered it still more difficult to inure them to the use of the 
weapons now employed in action. The Swiss, and after them 
the Spaniards, had shown the advantage of a stable infantry, 
who fought with pike and sword, and were able to repulse ever. 
the heavy-armed cavalry, in which the great force of the 
armies formerly consisted. The practice of firearms was 
become common ; though the caliver, which was the weapon 
now in use, was so inconvenient, and attended with so many 
disadvantages, that it had not entirely discredited the bow, a 
weapon in which the English excelled all European nations. 
A considerable part of the forces which Henry levied for the 
invasion of France consisted of archers ; and as soon as 
affairs were in readiness, the vanguard of the army, amount- 
ing to eight thousand men, under the command of the earl of 
Shrewsbury, sailed over to Calais. Shrewsbury was accom- 
panied by the earl of Derby, the lords Fitzwater, Hastings, 
Cobham, and Sir Rice ap Thomas, captain of the light horse. 
Another body of six thousand men soon after followed under 
the command of Lord Herbert, the chamberlain, attended by 
the earls of Northumberland and Kent, the lords Audley and 
Delawar, together with Carew, Curson, and other gentlemen. 

The king himself prepared to follow with the main body 
and rear of the army ; and he appointed the queen regent of 
the kingdom during his absence. That he might secure hei 
administration from all disturbance, he ordered Edmond de la 
Pole, earl of Suffolk, to be beheaded in the Tower, the noble- 
man who had been attainted and imprisoned during the late 
reign. Henry was led to commit this act of violence by the 
dying commands, as is imagined, of his father, who told him 
that he never would be free from danger while a man of so 
turbulent a disposition as Suffolk was alive. And as Richard 
de la Pole, brother of Suffolk, had accepted of a command in 
the French service, and foolishly attempted to revive the York 
faction, and to instigate them against the present government, 
he probably by that means drew more suddenly the king'?. 
vengeance on this unhappy nobleman. 

At last, Henry, attended by the duke of Buckingham and 
many others of the nobility, arrived at Calais, and entered 
ur*n his French expedition, from which he fondly expected 



A.. D. 1513. j HENRY VIII. 97 

bo much success and glory.* Of all those allies on whose 
assistance he relied, the Swiss alone fully performed their 
engagements. Being put in motion by a sum of money sent 
them by Henry, and incited by their victories obtained in 
Italy, and by their animosity against France, they were pre- 
paring to enter that kingdom with an army of twenty-live 
thousand men ; and no equal force could be opposed to their 
incursion. Maximilian had received an advance of one hun- 
dred and twenty thousand crowns from Henry, and had 
promised to reenforce the Swiss with eight thousand men, 
but failed in his engagements. That he might make atone- 
ment to the king, he himself appeared in the Low Countries, 
and joined the English army with some German and Flemish 
soldiers, who were useful in giving an example of discipline 
to Henry's new-levied forces. Observing the disposition of the 
English monarch to be more bent on glory than on interest, 
he enlisted himself in his service, wore the cross of St. George, 
and received pay, a hundred crowns a day, as one of his 
subjects and captains. But while he exhibited this extraor 
dinary spectacle, of an emperor of Germany serving under a 
king of England, he was treated with the highest respect by 
Henry, and really directed all the operations of the English 
army. 

Before the arrival of Henry and Maximilian in the camp, 
the earl of Shrewsbury and Lord Herbert had formed the siege 
of Terouane, a town situated on the frontiers of Picardy ; and 
they began to attack the place with vigor. Teligni and Crequi 
commanded in the town, and had a garrison not exceeding 
two thousand men ; yet made they such stout resistance as 
protracted the siege a month ; and they at last found them- 
selves more in danger from want of provisions and ammunition 
than from the assaults of the besiegers. Having conveyed 
intelligence of their situation to Lewis, who had advanced to 
Amiens with his army, that prince gave orders to throw relief 
into the place. Fontrailles appeared at the head of eight 
hundred horsemen, each of whom carried a sack of gunpowder 
behind him, and two quarters of bacon. With this small force 
he made a sudden and unexpected irruption into the English 
camp, and, surmounting all resistance, advanced to the fosse 
of the town, where each horseman threw down his burden. 
They immediately returned at the gallop, and were so fortunate 

* Polyd. Virg. lib. xxvii. Bellarius, lib. xiv 
VOL. HI.- — E 



98 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. \A. 1). It'll 3 

as again to break through the English, and to suffer little vi 
no loss in this dangerous attempt.* 

But the English had, soon alter, full revenge for the insult. 
Henry had received intelligence of the approach of the French 
horse, who had advanced to protect another incursion of Fon- 
trailles ; and he ordered some troops to pass the Lis, in order 
to oppose them. The cavalry of France, though they consisted 
chiefly of gentlemen, who had behaved with great gallantry in 
many desperate actions in Italy, were, on sight of the enemy, 
seized with so unaccountable a panic, that they immediately 
took to flight, and were pursued by the English. The duke 
of Longueville, who commanded the French, Bussi d' Amboise, 
Clermont, Imbercourt, the chevalier Bayard, and many other 
officers of distinction were made prisoners. t This action, or 
rather rout, is sometimes called the battle of Guinegate, from 
the place where it was fought ; but more commonly the " battle 
of spurs," because the French that day made more use of their 
spurs than of their swords or military weapons. 

After so considerable an advantage, the king, who was at 
the head of a complete army of above fifty thousand men, 
might have made incursions to the gates of Paris, and spread 
confusion and desolation every where. It gave Lewis great 
joy when he heard that the English, instead of pushing their 
victory, and attacking the dismayed troops of France, returned 
to the siege of so inconsiderable a place as Terouane. The 
governors were obliged soon after to capitulate : and Henry 
found his acquisition of so little moment, though gained at the 
expense of some blood, and what, in his present circumstances, 
was more important, of much valuable time, that he imme- 
diately demolished the fortifications. The anxieties of the 
French were again revived with regard to the motions of the 
English. The Swiss at the same time had entered Burgundy 
with a formidable army, and laid siege to Dijon, which was 
in no condition to resist them. Ferdinand himself, though he 
had made a truce with Lewis, seemed disponed to lay hold 
oi' every advantage which fortune should present to him 
Scarcely ever was the French monarchy in greater danger, or 
\ess in a condition to defend itself against those powerful armies 
nvhich on every side assailed or threatened it. Even many of 



* Hist, de Chev. Bayard, chap, 57. Memoires de Bellai. 
t Memoires de Bellai. liv. i. Polyd. Virg. liv. x - ; i. Holiugshf.d 
, 822. Herbert. 



A.D. 15J3.] HENRY Vfll. 99 

the inhabitants of Paris, who believed themselves exposed to the 
rapacity and violence of the enemy, began to dislodge, without 
knowing what place could afford them greater security. 

But Lewis was extricated from his present difficulties by 
the manifold blunders of his enemies. The Swiss allowed 
themselves to be seduced into a negotiation by Tremoille, 
governor of Burgundy : and without making inquiry whether 
that nobleman had any powers to treat, they accepted of the 
conditions which he offered them. Tremoille, who knew that 
he should be disavowed by his master, stipulated whatever 
they were pleased to demand ; and thought himself happy, at 
the expense of some payments and very large promises, to get 
rid of so formidable an enemy.* 

The measures of Henry showed equal ignorance in the art 
of war with that of the Swiss in negotiation. Tournay was 
a great and rich city, which, though it lay within the frontiers 
of Flanders, belonged to France, and afforded the troops of 
that kingdom a passage into the heart of the Netherlands 
Maximilian, who was desirous of freeing his grandson from sc 
troublesome a neighbor, advised Henry to lay siege to the 
olace ; and the English monarch, not considering that such an 
acquisition nowise advanced his conquests in France, was so 
imprudent as to follow this interested counsel. The city of 
Tournay, by its ancient charters, being exempted from the 
burden of a garrison, the burghers, against the remonstrance of 
their sovereign, strenuously insisted on maintaining this dar- 
gerous privilege ; and they engaged, by themselves, to make a 
vigorous defence against the enemy. t Their courage faded 
them when matters came to trial ; and after a few days' siege, 
the place was surrendered to the English. The bishop oi 
Tournay was lately dead ; and as a new bishop was already 
elected by the chapter, but not installed in his office, the king 
bestowed the administration of the see on his favorite Wolsey. 
and put him in immediate possession of the revenues, which 
were considerable, t Hearing of the retreat of the Swiss, and 
observing the season to be far advanced, he thought proper to 
return to England ; and he carried the greater part of his army 
with him. Success had attended him in every enterprise ; and 
his youthful mind was much elated with this seeming prosper- 
ity ; but all men of judgment, comparing the advantages of 

* Memoires du Mareschal de Fleuranges. Bellarius, lib. xiv. 

t Memoires de Fleuranges. 

J Strype's Memorials, vol. i. p. 5, 6. 



<00 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. k A.D. 1513 

his situation with his progress, his expense with his acquis) 
tions, were convinced that this campaign, so much vaunted, 
was, in reality, both ruinous and inglorious to him.* 

The success which, during this summer, had attended 
Henry's arms in the north, was much more decisive. The 
king of Scotland had assembled the whole force of his king- 
dom ; and having passed the Tweed with a brave, though a 
tumultuous army of above fifty thousand men, he ravaged 
those parts of Northumberland which lay nearest that river, 
and he employed himself in taking the Castles of Norham, 
Etal, Werke, Ford, and other places of small importance. 
Lady Ford, being taken prisoner in her castle, was presented 
to James, and so gained on the affections of that prince, that 
he wasted in pleasure the critical time which, during the 
absence of his enemy, he should have employed in pushing 
his conquests. His troops, lying in a barren country, where 
they soon consumed all the provisions, began to be pinched 
with hunger ; and as the authority of the prince was feeble, 
and military discipline during that age extremely relaxed, 
many of them had stolen from the camp, and retired home- 
wards. Meanwhile, the earl of Surrey, having collected a 
force of twenty-six thousand men, of which five thousand had 
been sent over from the king's army in France, marched to 
the defence of the country, and approached the Scots, who 
lay on some high ground near the hills of Cheviot. The river 
Till ran between the armies, and prevented an engagement : 
Surrey therefore sent a herald to the Scottish camp, challen- 
ging the enemy to descend into the plain of Milfield, which lay 
towards the south ; and there, appointing a day for the combat, 
to try their valor on equal ground. As he received no satis- 
factory answer, he made a feint of marching towards Berwick ; 
as if he intended 10 enter Scotland, to lay waste the borders, 
and cut off the provisions of the enemy. The Scottish army, 
in order to prevent his purpose, put themselves in motion ; 
and having set fire to the huts in which they had quartered, 
they descended from the hills. Surrey, taking advantage of 
the smoke, which was blown towards him, and which con- 
cealed his movements, passed the Till with his artillery and 
vanguard at the bridge of Twisel, and sent the rest of his army 
to seek a ford higher up the river. 

An engagement was now become inevitable, and both sides 



* Guiccinrdini. 



A.D. 1513. j HENRY VIII. 10 

prepared for it with tranquillity and order* Thf English 
divided their army into two lines : Lord Howard led the main 
hody of the first line, Sir Edmond Howard the right wing, Sir 
Marmaduke Constable the left. The earl of Surrey himself 
commanded the main hody of the second line, Lord Dacres 
the right wing, Sir Edward Stanley the left. The front of 
the Scots presented three divisions to the enemy : the middle 
was led by the king himself; the right by the earl of Huntley, 
assisted by Lord Hume ; the left by the earls of Lenox and 
Argyle. A fourth division under the earl of Bothwell made a 
body of reserve. Huntley began the battle, and, after a sharp 
conflict, put to flight the left wing of the English, and chased 
them off the field : but on returning from the pursuit, he Ibund 
the whole Scottish army in great disorder. The division under 
Lenox and Argyle, elated with the success of the other wing, 
had broken their ranks, and, notwithstanding the remonstrances 
and entreaties, of La Motte, the French ambassador, had rushed 
headlong upon the enemy. Not only Sir Edmond Howard, 
at the head of his division, received them with great valor, 
but Dacres, wdio commanded in the second line, wheeling 
about during the action, fell upon their rear, and put them to 
the sword without resistance. The division under James and 
that under Bothwell, animated by the valor of their leaders, 
still made head against the English, and throwing themselves 
into a circle, protracted the action, till night separated the 
combatants. The victory seemed yet undecided, and the num- 
bers that fell on each side were nearly equal, amounting to 
above five thousand men : but the morning discovered where 
the advantage lay. The English had lost only persons of 
small note ; but the flower of the Scottish nobility had fallen 
in battle, and their king himself, after the most diligent inquiry, 
could nowhere be found. In searching the field, the English 
met with a dead body which resembled him, and was arrayed 
in a similar habit ; and they put it in a leaden coffin, and 
sent it to Loudon. During some time it was kept unburied ; 
because James died under sentence of excommunication, on 
account of his confederacy with France, and his opposition to 
the holy see : t but upon Henry's application, who pretended 
that this prince had, in the instant before his ^e<ith, discovered 



* Buchanan, lib. xiii. Drummond. Herbert Polyd. Virgi lit. 
xxvii. Stowe, p. 493 Paulus Jovius. 
t Buchanan, lib. xiu. Herbert. 



102 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1514. 

Bigns of repentance, absolution was given him, and his body 
was interred. The Scots, however, still asserted that it waa 
not James's body which was found on the field of battle, but 
that of one Elphinston, who had been arrayed in arms resem- 
bling their king's, in order to divide the attention of the Eng- 
lish, and share the danger with his master. It was believed 
that James had been seen crossing the Tweed at Kelso ; and 
Borne imagined that he hal been killed by the vassals of Lord 
Hume, whom that nobleman had instigated to commit so enor 
taous a crime. But the populace entertained the opinion that 
he was still alive, and having secretly gone in pilgrimage to 
the Holy Land, would soon return and take possession of the 
throne. This fond conceit was long entertained among the 
Scots. 

The king of Scotland and most of his chief nobles being 
slain in the field of Flouden, (so this battle was called,) an 
inviting opportunity was offered to Henry of gaining advan- 
tages over that kingdom, perhaps of reducing it to subjection. 
But he discovered on this occasion a mind truly great and 
generous. When the queen of Scotland, Margaret, who was 
created regent during the infancy of her son, applied for peace, 
he readily granted it ; and took compassion of the helpless 
condition of his sister and nephew. The earl of Surrey, who 
had gained him so great a victory, was restored to the title of 
duke of Norfolk, which had been forfeited by his father for 
engaging on the side of Richard III. [1514.] Lord Howard 
was honored with the title of earl of Surrey. Sir Charles 
Brandon, the king's favorite, whom he had before created 
Yis« k ount Lisle, was now raised to the dignity of duke of Suf- 
folk. Wolsey, who was both his favorite and his minister, 
was* created bishop of Lincoln. Lord Herbert obtained the 
titlt* of earl of Worcester ; Sir Edward Stanley, that of Lord 
Moateagle. 

Though peace with Scotland gave Henry security on that 
side, and enabled him to prosecute in tranquillity his enter- 
prise against France, some other incidents had happened, 
which more than counterbalanced this fortunate event, and 
served to open his eyes with regard to the rashness of an 
undertaking, into which his youth and high fortune had be- 
trayed him. 

Lewis, fully sensible of the dangerous situation to which his 
kingdom had been reduced during the former campaign, was 
resolved, by every expedient, to prevent the return of likfl 



A..P 1514] henry vin. 103 

perils, and to break the confederacy of his enemies. The 
pope was nowise disposed to push the French to extremity ; 
and provided they did not return to take possession of Milan, 
his interests rather led him to preserve the balance among the 
contending parties. He accepted, therefore, of Lewis's offer 
to renounce the council of Lyons ; and he took off the excom- 
munication which his predecessor and himself had fulminated 
against that king and his kingdom. Ferdinand was now fast 
declining in years, and as he entertained no further ambition 
than that of keeping possession of Navarre, which he had sub- 
dued by his arms and policy, he readily hearkened to the pro- 
posals of Lewis for prolonging the truce another year ; and 
he even showed an inclination of forming a more intimate 
connection with that monarch. Lewis had dropped hints of 
his intention to marry his second daughter, Henee, either to 
Charles, prince of Spain, or his brother Ferdinand, both of them 
grandsons of the Spanish monarch; and he declared his resolu- 
tion of bestowing on her, as her portion, his claim to the duchy 
of Milan. Ferdinand not only embraced these proposals with 
joy, but also engaged the emperor Maximilian in the same 
views, and procured his accession to a treaty which opened 
so inviting a prospect of aggrandizing their common grand- 
children. 

When Henry was informed of Ferdinand's renewal of the 
truce with Lewis, he fell into a violent rage, and loudly com- 
plained, that his father-in-law had first, by high promises and 
professions, engaged him in enmity with France, and after- 
wards, without giving him the least warning, had now again 
sacrificed his interests to his own selfish purposes, and had 
left him exposed alone to all the danger and expense of the 
war. In proportion to his easy credulity, and his unsuspect- 
ing reliance on Ferdinand, was the vehemence with which he 
exclaimed against the treatment which he met with ; and he 
threatened revenge for this egregious treachery and breach 
of faith.* But he lost all patience when informed of the other 
negotiation, by which Maximilian was also seduced from his 
alliance, and in which proposals had been agreed to for the 
marriage of the prince of Spain with the daughter of France. 
Charles, during the lifetime of the late king, had been affianced 
tc Mary, Henry's younger sister ; and as the prince now 

* Petrus de Angleria, Epist. 545, 546. 



1 04 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 151-1 

approached the age of puberty, the king had expected the 
immediate completion of the marriage, and the honorable set- 
tlement of a sister for whom he had entertained a tender 
affection. Such a complication, therefore, of injuries gave hin, 
the highest displeasure, and inspired him with a desire oi 
expressing his disdain towards those who had imposed on hia 
youth and inexperience, and had abused his too great facility. 

The duke of Longueville, who had been made prisoner at 
the battle of Guinegate, and who was still detained in Eng- 
land, was ready to take advantage of all these dispositions of 
Henry, in order to procure a peace, and even an alliance, 
which he knew to be passionately desired by his master. He 
represented to the king, that Anne, queen of France, being 
lately dead, a door was thereby opened for an affinity, which 
might tend to the advantage of both kingdoms, and which 
would serve to terminate honorably all the differences between 
them : that she had left Lewis no male children ; and as he had 
ever entertained a strong desire of having heirs to the crown, 
no marriage seemed more suitable to him than that with the 
princess of England, whose youth and beauty afforded the 
most flattering hopes in that particular : that though the mar- 
riage of a princess of sixteen with a king of fifty-three might 
seem unsuitable, yet the other advantages attending the alli- 
ance were more than a sufficient compensation for this ine- 
quality : and that Henry, in loosening his connections with 
Spain, from which he had never reaped any advantage, would 
contract a close affinity with Lewis, a prince who, through his 
whole life, had invariably maintained the character of probity 
and honor. 

As Henry seemed to hearken to this discourse with willing 
ears, Longueville informed his master of the probability which 
he discovered of bringing the matter to a happy conclusion ; 
and he received full powers for negotiating the treaty. The 
articles were easdy adjusted between the monarchs. Louis 
agreed that Tournay should remain in the hands of the Eng- 
lish ; that Richard de la Pole should be banished to Metz, 
there to live on a pension assigned him by Lewis; that Henry 
should receive payment of a million of crowns, being the 
arrears due by treaty to his father and himself; and that the 
princess Mary should bring four hundred thousand crowns as 
her portion, and enjoy as large a jointure as any queen of 
France, even the former, who was heiress of Brittany. The 



A. D. 1515.] HENRY VIII. I0t 

two princes also agreed on the succors with which they 
should mutually supply each other, in case either of them 
was attacked by au enemy.* 

In consequence of this treaty, Mary was sent over to France 
with a splendid retinue ; and Lewis met her at Abbeville, 
where the espousals were celebrated. He was enchanted with 
the beauty, grace, and numerous accomplishments of the young 
princess ; and being naturally of an amorous disposition, which 
his advanced age had not entirely cooled, he was seduced into 
such a course of gayety and pleasure, as proved very unsuit- 
able to his declining state of health. t » [1515.] He died in less 
than three months after the marriage, to the extreme regret 
of the French nation, who, sensible of his tender concern foi 
their welfare, gave him with one voice the honorable appella 
tion of " father of his people." 

Francis, duke of Angouleme, a youth of one and twenty, 
who had married Lewis's eldest daughter, succeeded him on 
the throne ; and, by his activity, valor, generosity, and other 
virtues, gave prognostics of a happy and glorious reign. This 
young monarch had been extremely struck with the charms 
of the English princess ; and even during his predecessor's 
lifetime, had paid her such assiduous court, as made some of 
his friends apprehend that he had entertained views of gal- 
lantry towards her. But being warned that, by indulging 
this passion, he might probably exclude himself from the 
throne, he forbore all further addresses ; and even watched 
the young dowager with a very careful eye during the first 
months of her widowhood. Charles Brandon, duke of Suffolk, 
was at that time in the court of France, the most comely per- 
sonage of his time, and the most accomplished in all the exer- 
cises which were then thought to befit a courtier and a soldier. 
He was Henry's chief favorite ; and that monarch had even 
once entertained thoughts of marrying him to his sister, and 
had given indulgence to the mutual passion which took place 
between them. The queen asked Suffolk, whether he had 
now the courage, without further reflection, to espouse her , 
and she told him that her brother would more easily forgive 
him for not asking his consent, than for acting contrary to his 
orders. Suffolk declined not so inviting an offer ; and their 
nuptials were secretly celebrated at Paris. Francis, who 
was pleased with this marriage, as it prevented Henry fro«j 

* Du Tillet. t Brantome, Elo^e tie Louis XII. 

K* 



106 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A. D. 1515 

forming any powerful alliance by means of his sister,* inter* 
posed his good offices in appeasing him : and even Wolsey, 
having entertained no jealousy of Suffolk, who was content to 
participate in the king's pleasures, and had no ambition to 
engage in public business, was active in reconciling the king 
to his sister and brother-in-law ; and he obtained them per* 
mission to return to England. 

* Petrus de Angleria, Epist. 544. 



A D. 151 A J RENRY VTD '01 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

HENRY VIII. 

[1515.] The numerous enemies whom Wolsey's sudden 
elevation, his aspiring character, and his haughty deportment 
had raised him, served only to rivet him faster in Henry's 
confidence ; who valued himself on supporting the choice 
which he had made, and who was incapable of yielding either 
to the murmurs of the people or to the discontents of the 
great. That artful prelate, likewise, well acquainted with 
the king's imperious temper, concealed from him the absolute 
ascendant which he had acquired ; and while he secretly 
directed all public councils, he ever pretended a blind submis- 
sion to the will and authority of his master. By entering into 
the king's pleasures, he preserved his affection; by conduct- 
ing his business, he gratified his indolence ; and by his unlim- 
ited complaisance in both capacities, he prevented all that 
jealousy to which his exorbitant acquisitions and his splendid 
ostentatious train of life should naturally have given birth. 
The archbishopric of York falling vacant by the death of 
Bambridge, Wolsey was pi-omoted to that see, and resigned 
the bishopric of Lincoln. Besides enjoying the administration 
of Tournay, he got possession, on easy leases, of the revenues 
of Bath, Worcester, and Hereford, bishoprics filled by Italians, 
who were allowed to reside abroad, and who were glad to 
compound for this indulgence, by yielding a considerable share 
of their income. He held " in commendam" the abbey of 
St. Albans, and many other church preferments. He was 
even allowed to unite with the see of York, first that of Dur- 
ham, next that of Winchester ; and there seemed to be no 
end of his acquisitions. His further advancement in ecclesi- 
astical dignity served him as a pretence for engrossing still 
more revenues : the pope, observing his great influence over 
the king, was desirous of engaging him in his interests, and 
created him a cardinal. No churchman, under color of ex- 
acting respect to religion, ever carried to a greater height tho 



103 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1615 

state and dignity of that character. His train consisted oi 
«nght hundred servants, of whom many were knights and gen- 
tlemen ; some even of the nohility put their children into his 
family as a place of education ; and in order to gain them 
favor with their patron, allowed them to bear offices as hia 
servants. Whoever was distinguished by any art or science 
paid court to the cardinal ; and none paid court in vain. Lit- 
erature, which was then in its infancy, found in him a gener- 
ous patron ; and both by his public institutions and private 
bounty, he gave encouragement to every branch of erudition.* 
Not content with this munificence, which gained him the ap- 
probation of the wise, he strove to dazzle the eyes of the pop • 
ulace by the splendor of his equipage and furniture, the costlj 
embroidery of his liveries, the lustre of his apparel. He wa? 
the first clergyman in England that wore silk and gold, no* 
only on his habit, but also on his saddles and the trappings 
of his horses. t He caused his cardinal's hat to be borne aloft 
by a person of rank ; and when he came to the king's chapel, 
would permit it to be laid on no place but the altar. A 
priest, the tallest and most comely he could find, carried 
before him a pillar of silver, on whose top was placed a cross : 
but not satisfied with this parade, to which he thought 
himself entitled as cardinal, he provided another priest of 
equal stature and beauty, who marched along, bearing the 
cross of York, even in the diocese of Canterbury ; contrary 
to the ancient rule and the agreement between the prelates 
of these rival sees. $ The people made merry with the car- 
dinal's ostentation ; and said, they were now sensible that one 
crucifix alone was not sufficient for the expiation of his sins 
and offences. 

Warham, chancellor and archbishop of Canterbury, a man 
of a moderate temper, averse to all disputes, chose rather to 
retire from public employment, than maintain an unequa, 
contest with the haughty cardinal. He resigned his office of 
chancellor ; and the great seal was immediately delivered tc 
Wolsey. If this new accumulation of dignity increased his 
enemies, it also served to exalt his personal character, and 
prove the extent of his capacity. A strict administration of 
justice took place during his enjoyment of this high office j 



* Erasm. Epist. lib. ii. epist. i. ; lib. xvi. epist. 3. 

t Polyd. Virg, lib. xxvii. Stowe, p. 501. Holingshed. p. 847 

t l\,ly.!. Vira. lib. xxvii. 



A. D. 1515.] henr-s vin. 10? 

and no chancellor ever discovered greater impartiality in his 
decisions, deeper penetration of judgment, or more enlarged 
knowledge of law and equity.* 

The duke of Norfolk, finding the king's money almost 
entirely exhausted by projects and pleasures, while his incli- 
nation for expense still continued, was glad to resign his office 
of treasurer, and retire from court. His rival, Fox, bishop of 
Winchester, reaped no advantage from his absence ; but 
partly overcome by years and infirmities, partly disgusted at 
the ascendant acquired by Wolsey, withdrew himself wholly 
to the care of his diocese. The duke of Suffolk had also 
taken offence, that the king, by the cardinal's persuasion, had 
refused to pay a debt which he had contracted during his resi 
dence in France ; and he thenceforth affected to live in priva- 
cy. These incidents left Wolsey to enjoy without a rival the 
whole power and favor of the king; and they put into his 
hands every kind of authority. In vain did Fox, before his 
retirement, warn the king " not to suffer the servant to be 
greater than his master." Henry replied, "that he well 
knew how to retain all his subjects in obedience ;" but he 
continued still an unlimited deference in every thing to the 
directions and counsels of the cardinal. 

The public tranquillity was so well established in England, 
the obedience of the people so entire, the general administra- 
tion of justice, by the cardinal's means.t so exact, that no 
domestic occurrence happened considerable enough to disturb 
the repose of the king and his minister : they might even have 
dispensed with giving any strict attention to foreign affairs, 
were it possible for men to enjoy any situation in absolute 
tranquillity, or abstain from projects and enterprises however 
fruitless and unnecessary. 

The will of the late king of Scotland, who left his widow 
regent of the kingdom, and the vote of the convention of 
states, which confirmed that destination, had expressly limited 
her authority to the condition of her remaining unmarried ;t 
but, notwithstanding this limitation, a few months after her 
husband's death, she espoused the earl of Angus, of the name 
of Douglas, a young nobleman of great family and promising 
hopes. Some of the nobility now proposed the electing of 
Angus to the regency, and recommended this choice "s the 

* Sir Thomas More. Stowe, p. 504. 

t Erasm. lib. ii. epist. i. Cavendish. Hall. 

J "Rnr-hanftn. lib. xiv. Druraniornl. Herbert. 



1 IU . IIISTOR*" OF ENGLAND. | A. D. 1510 

rncst likely means of preserving peace with England ; but tht 
jealousy ol" the great families, and the fear of exalting the 
Douglases, begat opposition to this measure. Lord Hume in 
particular, the most powerful chieftain in the kingdom, insisted 
on recalling the. duke of Albany, son to a brother o( James III., 
who had been banished into France, and who, having there 
married, had left posterity that were the next heirs to the 
crown, and the nearest relations to their young sovereign. 
Albany, though first prince of the blood, had never been in 
Scotland, was totally unacquainted with the manners ol' the 
people, ignorant of their situation, unpractised in their lan- 
guage ; yet such was the favor attending the French alliance, 
and so great the authority of Hume, that this prince was invit- 
ed to accept the reins of government. Francis, careful not 
to give offence to the king of England, detained Albany some 
time in France ; but at length, sensible how important it was 
to keep Scotland in his interests, he permitted him to go over 
and take possession of the regency : he even renewed the 
ancient league with that kingdom, though it implied such a 
close connection as might be thought somewhat to intrench on 
his alliance with England. 

When the regent arrived in Scotland, he made inquiries 
concerning the state of the country, and character of the 
people : and he discovered a scene with which he was hither- 
to but little acquainted. That turbulent kingdom, he found, 
was rather to be considered as a confederacy, and that not a 
close one, of petty princes, than a regular system of civil 
polity ; and even the king, much more a regent, possessed an 
authority very uncertain and precarious. Arms, more than 
laws, prevailed ; and courage, preferably to equity or justice, 
was the virtue most valued and respected. The nobility, in 
whom the whole power resided, were so connected by heredi- 
tary alliances, or so divided by inveterate enmities, that it 
was impossible, without employing an armed force, either to 
punish the most flagrant guilt, or give security to the most 
entire innocence. Rapine and violence, when exercised on a 
hostile tribe, instead of making a person odious among his 
own clan, rather recommended him to their esteem and appro- 
bation ; and by rendering him useful to the chieftain, entitled 
aim to a preference above his fellows. And though the 
necessity of mutual support served as a close cement of am- 
ity among those of the same kindred, the spirit of revenge 
against enemies, and the desire of prosecuting the deadly 



A.. D. 1515.] HENRX VUI. Ill 

feuds, (so they were called,) still appeared to be pulsions the 
most predominant among that uncultivated peopie. 

The persons to whom Albany, on his arrival, first applied 
for information with regard to the state of the country, hap- 
pened to be inveterate enemies of Hume ; * and they rep- 
resented that powerful nobleman as the chief source of public 
disorders, and the great obstacle to the execution of the laws 
and the administration of justice. Before the authority of the 
magistrate could be established, it was necessary, they said, to 
make an example of this great offender ; and, by the terror 
of his punishment, teach all lesser criminals to pay respect 
to the power of their sovereign. Albany, moved by these 
reasons, was induced to forget Hume's past services, to which 
he had in a great measure been indebted for the regency ; 
and he no longer bore towards him that favorable countenance 
with which he was wont to receive him. Hume perceived 
the alteration, and was incited, both by regard to his own 
safety and from motives of revenge, to take measures in 
opposition to the regent. He applied himself to Angus and 
the queen dowager, and represented to them the danger to 
which the infant prince was exposed from the ambition of 
Albany, next heir to the crown, to whom the states had im- 
prudently intrusted the whole authority of government. By 
his persuasion Margaret formed the design of carrying off' 
the young king, and putting him under the protection of her 
brother ; and when that conspiracy was detected, she herself, 
attended by Hume and Angus, withdrew into England, where 
she was soon after delivered of a daughter. 

Henry, in order to check the authority of Albany and the 
French party, gave encouragement to these malecon tents, and 
assured them of his support. Matters being afterwards in 
appearance accommodated between Hume and the regent, 
that nobleman returned into his own country ; but mutual 
suspicions and jealousies still prevailed. He was committed 
to custody, under the care of the earl of Arran, his brother- 
in-law ; and was for some time detained prisoner in his castle 
But having persuaded Arran to enter into the conspiracy with 
him, he was allowed to make his escape ; and he openly 
levied war upon the regent. A new accommodation ensued 
not more sincere than the foregoing ; and Hume was so im- 
prudent as to intrust himself, together with his brother, into 
the hands of that prince. They were immediately seized 

* Buchanan, lib. xiv Druinmond. 



112 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 151.5 

committed to custody, brought to trial, condemned and exe- 
cuted. No legal crime was proved against these brothers : it 
was only alleged, that at the battle of Flodden they had not. 
done their duty in supporting the king ; and as this backward- 
ness could not, from the course of their past life, be ascribed 
to cowardice, it was commonly imputed to a more criminal 
motive. The evidence, however, of guilt produced against 
them was far from being valid or convincing ; and the people, 
who hated them while living, were much dissatisfied with theii 
execution. 

Such violent remedies often produce for some time a 
deceitful tranquillity ; but as they destroy mutual confidence, 
and beget the most inveterate animosities, their consequences 
are commonly fatal, both to the public and to those who have 
recourse to them. The regent, however, took advantage of 
the present calm which prevailed ; and being invited over by 
the French king, who was at that time willing to gratify Henry, 
he went into France, and was engaged to remain there for 
some years. During the absence of the regent, such confu- 
sions prevailed in Scotland, and such mutual enmity, rapine, 
and violence among the great families, that that kingdom 
was for a long time utterly disabled both from offending its 
enemies and assisting its friends. We have carried on the 
Scottish history some years beyond the present period ; that, 
as that country had little connection with the general system 
of Europe, we might be the less interrupted in the narration 
of those more memorable events which were transacted in tho 
other kingdoms. 

It was foreseen, that a young, active prince, like Francis, 
and of so martial a disposition, would soon employ the great 
preparations which his predecessor before his death had made 
lor the conquest of Milan. He had been observed even to 
weep at the recital of the military exploits of Gaston de Foix ; 
and these tears of emulation were held to be sure presages of 
his future valor. He renewed the treaty which Lewis had 
made with Henry ; and having left every thing secure behind 
him, he marched his armies towards the south of France ; 
pretending that his sole purpose was to defend his kingdom 
against the incursions of the Swiss. This formidable people 
utill retained their animosity against France ; and having 
taken Maximilian, duke of Milan, under their protection, and 
in reality reduced him to absolute dependence, they were 
determined, from views both of honor and of interest, to 



A. D. 1515.1 HENRY VIII. 113 

defend him against the invader.* They fortified themselves 
in all those valleys of the Alps through which they though; 
the French must necessarily pass ; and when Francis, with 
great secrecy, industry, and perseverance, made his entrance 
into Piedmont by another passage, they were not dismayed, 
but descended into the plain, though unprovided with cavalry, 
and opposed themselves to the progress of the French arms 
At Marignan, near Milan, they fought with Francis one of the 
most furious and best contested battles that is to be met with 
iu the history of these later ages ; and it required all the 
heroic valor of this prince to inspire his troops with courage 
sufficient to resist the desperate assault of those mountaineers. 
After a bloody action in the evening, night and darkness 
parted the combatants ; but next morning the Swiss renewed 
the attack with unabated ardor ; and it was not till they had 
lost all their bravest troops that they could be prevailed on 
to retire. The field was strewed with twenty thousand slain 
on both sides ; and the mareschal Trivulzio, who had been 
present at eighteen pitched battles, declared that every en- 
gagement which he had yet seen was only the play of children ; 
the action of Marignan was a combat of heroes. t After this 
great victory, the conquest of the Milanese was easy and open 
to Francis. 

The success and glory of the French monarch began to 
excite jealousy in Henry ; and his rapid progress, though in 
so distant a country, was not regarded without apprehensions 
by the English ministry. Italy was, during that age, the seat 
of religion, of literature, and of commerce ; and as it pos- 
sessed alone that lustre which has since been shared out 
among other nations, it attracted the attention of all Europe, 
and every acquisition which was made there appeared more 
important than its weight in the balance of power was, 
strictly speaking, entitled to. Henry also thought that he 
had reason to complain of Francis ibr sending the duke of 
Albany into Scotland, and undermining the power and credit 
of his sister the queen dowager. $ The repairing of the 
fortifications of Terouenne was likewise regarded as a breach 
of treaty. But, above all, what tended to alienate the court 
of England, was the disgust which Wolsey had entertained 
against the French monarch. 

* Memoires du Bellai, lib. i. Guiceiard. lib. xii. 

t Histoire de la Ligue de Cambray. $ Pere Daniel, vol. iii. p. 31 



114 HIST0KY OF ENGLAND [A. L 1^16 

Henry, on the conquest of Tournay, had refused to admit 
Lewis Gaillart, tha bishop elect, to the possession of the tem- 
poralities, because that prelate declined taking the oath of 
allegiance to his new sovereign ; and Wolsey was appointed, 
as above related, administrator of the bishopric. As the car- 
dinal wished to obtain the free and undisturbed enjoyment of 
this revenue, he applied to Francis, and desired him to bestow 
on Gaillart some see of equal value in France, and to obtain 
his resignation of Tournay. Francis, who still hoped to 
recover possession of that city, and who feared that the full 
establishment of Wolsey in the bishopric would prove an 
obstacle to his purpose, had hitherto neglected to gratify the 
haughty prelate ; and the bishop of Tournay, by applying to 
the court of Rome, had obtained a bull for his settlement in 
the see. Wolsey, who expected to be indulged in every 
request, and who exacted respect from the greatest princes, 
resented the slight put upon him by Francis ; and he pushed 
his master to seek an occasion of quarrel with that monarch.* 

Maximilian, the emperor, was ready to embrace every over 
ture for a new enterprise ; especially if attended with an offer 
of money, of which he was very greedy, very prodigal, and 
very indigent. Fwichard Pace, formerly secretary to Cardinal 
Bambridge, and now secretary of state, was despatched to 
the court of Vienna, and had a commission to propose some 
considerable payments to Maximilian : t he thence made a 
journey into Switzerland ; and by like motives engaged some 
of the cantons to furnish troops to the emperor. That prince 
invaded Italy with a considerable army ; but being repulsed 
from before Milan, he retreated with his army into Germany, 
made peace with France and Venice, ceded Verona to that 
republic for a sum of money, and thus excluded himself in 
some measure from all future access into Italy. And Henry 
found, that after expending five or six hundred thousand ducats, 
in order to gratify his own and the cardinal's humor, he had 
only weakened his alliance with Francis, without diminishing 
the power of that prince. 

There were many reasons which engaged the king not to 
proceed further at present in his enmity against France : he 
could hope for assistance from no power in Eui «pe. Ferdi- 
aand, his father-in-law, who had often deceived him, was 



* Po)_vil. Virg. lib. xxvii. 

t Pofrns de Anglcria, epist. 568. 



A. D. 1516. 1 HENRY VTll 11 3 

declining through age and infirmities ; and a speedy period 
was looked for to the long and prosperous reign of that great 
monarch. Charles, prince of Spain, sovereign of the Low 
Countries, desired nothing but peace with Francis, who had it 
so much in his power, if provoked, to obstruct his peaceable 
accession to that rich inheritance which was awaiting him. 
The pope was overawed by the power of France, and Venice 
was engaged in a close alliance with that monarchy.* Henry, 
therefore, was constrained to remain in tranquillity during 
(some time ; and seemed to give himself no concern with 
regard to the affairs of the continent. In vain did Maximilian 
endeavor to allure him into some expense, by offering to 
make a resignation of the imperial crown in his favor. The 
artifice was too gross to succeed, even with a prince so little 
politic as Henry ; and Pace, his envoy, who was perfectly 
well acquainted with the emperor's motives and character, 
gave him warning that the sole view of that prince, in making 
him so liberal an offer, was to draw money from him. 

[1516.] While a universal peace prevailed in Europe, 
that event happened which had so long been looked for, and 
from which such important consequences were expected — the 
'death of Ferdinand the Catholic, and the succession of his 
grandson Charles to his extensive dominions. The more 
Charles advanced in power and authority, the more was 
Francis sensible of the necessity he himself lay under of 
gaining the confidence and friendship of Henry; and he took 
at last the only method by which he could obtain success, 
the paying of court, by presents and flattery, to the haughty 
cardinal. 

[1518.] Bonnivet, admiral of France, was despatched to 
London, and he was directed to employ all his insinuation and 
address, (qualities in which he excelled,) to procure himself a 
place in Wolsey's good graces. After the ambassador had 
succeeded in his purpose, he took an opportunity of expressing 
his master's regret that, by mistakes and misapprehensions, 
he had been so unfortunate as to lose a friendship which he 
so much valued as that of his eminence. Wolsey was not 
deaf to these honorable advances from so great a monarch ; 
and he was thenceforth observed to express himself, on all 
occasions, in favor of the French alliance. The more to 
engage him in his interests, Francis entered into such confi- 

* Guicciard lib. xir. 



UG HISVORY OF ENGLAND [A. D. 1518 

dence with liim, that he asked his advice even in his mosl 
secret affairs ; and had recourse to him in all difficult emer- 
gencies, as to an oracle of wisdom and profound policy. The 
cardinal made no secret to the king of this private corre- 
spondence ; and Henry was so prepossessed in favor of the 
great capacity of his minister, that he said he verily believed 
he would govern Francis as well as himself* 

When matters seemed sufficiently prepared, Bonnivet opened 
to the cardinal his master's desire of recovering Tournay ; 
and Wolsey immediately, without hesitation, engaged to effect 
his purpose. He took an opportunity of representing *o the 
king and council, that Tournay lay so remote from Calais, 
that it would be very difficult, if not impossible, in case of 
war, to keep the communication open between these two 
places ; that as it was situated on the frontiers both of France 
and the Netherlands, it was exposed to attacks from both these 
countries, and must necessarily, either by force or famine, 
fall into the hands of the first assailant ; that even in time of 
peace it could not be preserved without a large garrison, to 
restrain the numerous and mutinous inhabitants, ever discon- 
tented with the English government ; and that the possession 
of Tournay, as it was thut precarious and expensive, so was 
it entirely useless, and afforded little or no means oi an- 
noying, on occasion, the dominions either of Charles cr of 
Francis. 

These reasons were of themselves convincing, and were 
sure of meeting with no opposition when they came from the 
mouth of the cardinal. A treaty therefore was entered into 
for the ceding of Tournay ; and in order to give to that 
measure a more graceful appearance, it was agreed, that the 
dauphin and the princess Mary, both of them infants, should 
be betrothed, and that this city should be considered as the 
dowry of the princess. Such kinds of agreement were then 
common among sovereigns ; though it was very rare that the 
interests and views of the parties continued so steady as to 
render the intended marriages effectual. But as Henry had 
been at considerable expense in building a citadel at Tournay. 
Francis agreed to pay him six hundred thousand crowns at 
twelve annual paymen s, and to put into his hands eight 
hostages, all of them men of quality, for the performance of 
the article.! And lest the cardinal should think hiujself 

* Polyd. Virg. lib. xxvii. 
t Memoires du Bellai, lib. I. 



A.D. 1518.] henry vin. 117 

neglected in. these stipulations, Francis promised him a yearly 
pension of twelve thousand livres, as an equivalent for his ad- 
ministration of the bishopric of Tournay. 

The French monarch, having succeeded so well in this 
negotiation, began to enlarge his views, and to hope for more 
considerable advantages by practising on the vanity and sell- 
conceit of the favorite. He redoubled his flatteries to the car- 
dinal, consulted him more frequently in every doubt or difficulty, 
called him in each letter "father," " tutor," "governor," and 
professed the most unbounded deference to his advice and 
opinion. All these caresses were preparatives to a negotiation 
lor the delivery of Calais, in consideration of a sum of money 
to be paid for it ; and if we may credit Polydore Virgil, who 
bears a particular ill-will to Wolsey, on account of his being 
dispossessed of his employment and thrown into prison by that 
minister, so extraordinary a proposal met with a favorable 
reception from the cardinal. He ventured not, however, to 
lay the matter before the council : he was content to sound 
privately the opinion of the other ministers, by dropping hints 
in conversation, as if he thought Calais a useless burden to the 
kingdom : * but when he found that all men were strongly 
riveted in a contrary persuasion, he thought it dangerous to 
proceed any further in his purpose ; and as he fell soon after 
into new connections with the king of Spain, the great friend- 
6hip between Francis and him began gradually to decline. 

The pride of Wolsey was now further increased by a great 
accession of power and dignity. Cardinal Campeggio had 
been sent as legate into England, in order to procure a tithe 
from the clergy, for enabling the pope to oppose the progress 
of the Turks ; a danger which was become real, and was 
formidable to all Christendom, but on which the politics of the 
court of Home had built so many interested projects, that it 
had lost all influence on the minds of men. The clergy refused 
to comply with Leo's demands : Campeggio was recalled ; and 
the king desired of the pope that Wolsey, who had been joined 
in this commission, might alone be invested with the legatiue 
power, together with the right of visiting all the clergy and 
monasteries, and even with suspending all the laws of the 
church during a twelvemonth. Wolsey, having obtained this 
new dignity, made a new display of that state and parade to 
which he was so much addicted. On solemn feast-days, he 



* Polyd. Virg-. lib. xxvii. 



118 HISTORY OF ENGLAN.. fA. D. 1518 

was not content without saying mass after the manner of the 
pope himself: not only he had bishops and abbots to serve 
him ; he even engaged the first nobility to give him water 
and the towel. He affected a rank superior to what had ever 
been claimed by any churchman in England. Warham, the 
primate, having written him a letter in which he subscribed 
himself " your loving brother," Wolsey complained of his pre- 
sumption in thus challenging an equality with him. When 
Warham was told what offence he had given, he made light 
of the matter. " Know ye not," said he, " that this man is 
drunk with too much prosperity ?" 

But Wolsey carried the matter much further than vain 
pomp and ostentation. He erected an office which he called 
the legatine court ; and as he was now, by means of the 
pope's commission and the king's favor, invested with all 
power, both ecclesiastical and civil, no man knew what bounds 
were to be set to the authority of his new tribunal. He con- 
ferred on it a kind of inquisitorial and censorial powers even 
over the laity, and directed it to inquire into all matters of 
conscience ; into all conduct which had given scandal ; into all 
actions which, though they escaped the law, might appeal 
contrary to good morals. Offence was taken at this commis- 
sion, which was really unbounded ; and the people were the 
more disgusted, when they saw a man who indulged himself 
in pomp and pleasure, so severe in repressing the least appear- 
ance of licentiousness in others. But to render his court more 
obnoxious, Wolsey made one John Allen judge in it, a person 
of scandalous life* whom he himself, as chancellor, had, it i* 
said, condemned for perjury : and as it is pretended, that this 
man either extorted fines from every one whom he was pleased 
to find guilty, or took bribes to drop prosecutions, men con- 
cluded, and with some appearance of reason, that he shared 
with the cardinal those wages of iniquity. The clergy, and 
in particular the monks, were exposed to this tyranny ; and 
as the libertinism of their lives often gave a just handle against 
them, they were obliged to purchase an indemnity by paying 
large sums of money to the legate or his judge. Not content 
with this authority, Wolsey pretended, by virtue of his com- 
mission, to assume the jurisdiction of all the bishops' courts ' 
particularly that of judging of wills and testaments : and his 
decisions in those important points were deemed not a little 



* Strype's Memorials, vrl i p. 125. 



A. D. 1519.] HKNRY VIII 11* 

arbitrary. As if he himself were pope, and as it the pope 
could absolutely dispose of every ecclesiastical preferment, he 
presented to whatever priories or benefices he pleased, withoui 
regard to the right of election in the monks, or of patronage 
in the nobility and gentry.* 

No one durst carry to the king any complaint against thes--. 
usurpations of Wolsey, till Warham ventured to inform him ol 
the discontents of his people. Henry professed his ignorance 
of the whole matter. "A man," said he, "is not so blind 
anv where as in his own house : but do you, father," added 
he to the primate, " go to Wolsey, and tell him, if any thing 
be amiss, that he amend it." A reproof of this kind was not 
likely to be effectual : it only served to augment Wolsey's 
enmity to Warham : but one London having prosecuted Allen, 
the legate's judge, in a court of law, and having convicted him 
of malversation and iniquity, the clamor at last reached the 
king's ears ; and he expressed such displeasure to the car- 
dinal, as made him ever after more cautious in exerting his 
authority. 

[1519.] While Henry, indulging himself in pleasure and 
amusement, intrusted the government of his kingdom to this 
imperious minister, an incident happened abroad which excited 
his attention. Maximilian, the emperor, died ; a man who, of 
himself, was indeed of little consequence ; but as his death 
left vacant the first station among Christian princes, it set the 
passions of men in agitation, and proved a kind of era in the 
general system of Europe. The kings of France and Spain 
immediately declared themselves candidates for the imperial 
crown, and employed every expedient of money or intrigue 
which promised them success in so great a point of ambition. 
Henry also was encouraged to advance his pretensions ; but 
his minister Pace, who was despatched to the electors, found 
that he began to solicit too late, and that the votes of all these 
princes were already preengaged either on one side or tho 
other. 

Francis and Charles made profession from the beginning of 
carrying on this rivalship with emulation, but without enmity , 

* Polyd. Virg. lib. xxvii. This whole narrative has been copied by 
all the historians from the author here cited; there are many circum- 
stances, however, very suspicious, both because of the obvious par- 
tiality of the historian, and because the parliament, when they after- 
wards examined Wolsey's conduct, could find no proof of any material 
offence he had ever committed 



i*HO BiXtORY *F ENGLAND. [A. D. 

and Francis in particular declared, that his brother Charles 
and he were, fairly and openly, suitors to the same mistress : 
the more fortunate, added he, will carry her ; the other must 
rest contented.* But all men apprehended that this extreme 
moderation, however reasonable, would not be of long dura- 
tion ; and that incidents would certainly occur to sharpen the 
minds of the candidates against each other. It was Charles 
who at length prevailed, to the great disgust of the French 
monarch, who still continued to the last in the belief that the 
majority of the electoral college was engaged in his favor 
And as he was some years superior in age to his rival, and, 
after his victory at Marignan and conquest of the Milanese, 
much superior in renown, he could not suppress his indigna- 
tion at being thus, in the face of the world, after long and 
anxious expectation, disappointed in so important a pretension 
From this competition, as much as from opposition of interasts, 
arose that emulation between these two great monarchs, 
which, while it kept their whole age in movement, sets them 
in so remarkable a contrast to each other : both of them princes 
endowed with talents and abilities ; brave, aspiring, active, 
warlike ; beloved by their servants and subjects, dreaded by 
their enemies, and respected by all the world : Francis, open, 
frank, liberal, munificent, carrying these virtues to an excess 
which prejudiced his affairs : Charles, political, close, artful, 
frugal ; better qualified to obtain success in wars and in nego- 
tiations, especially the latter. The one the more amiable man ; 
the other the greater monarch. The king, from -liis oversights 
and indiscretions, naturally exposed to misfortunes ; but qual- 
ified, by his spirit and magnanimity, to extricate himself 
from them with honor : the emperor, by his designing, inter- 
ested character, fitted, in his greatest successes, to excite 
jealousy and opposition even among his allies, and to rouse up 
a multitude of enemies in the place of one whom he had sub- 
dued. And as the personal qualities of these princes thus 
counterpoised each other, so did the advantages and disadvan- 
tages of their dominions. Fortune alone, without the concur- 
rence of prudence or valor, never reared up of a sudden so 
great a power as that which centred in the emperor Charles. 
He reaped the succession of Castile, of Arragon, of Austria, 
of the Netherlands : he inherited the conquest of Naples, of 
Grenada : election entitled him to the empire : even the bound* 

* Belcario, lib. xvL Guieeiard. lib. xiii 



A.. D. 1520.] henry vin. 121 

of the globe seemed to be enlarged a little before his time, that 
he might possess the whole treasure, as yet entire and unrifled, 
of the new world. But though the concurrence of all these 
advantages formed an empire greater and more extensive 
than any known in Europe since that of the Romans, the 
kingdom of France alone, being close, compact, united, rich, 
populous, and being interposed between the provinces of the 
(imperor's dominions, was able to make a vigorous opposition 
to his progress, and maintain the contest against him. 

Henry possessed the felicity of being able, both by the 
native force of his kingdom and its situation, to hold the 
balance between those two powers ; and had he known to 
miprove by policy and prudence this singular and inestimable 
advantage, he was really, by means of it, a greater potentate 
than either of those mighty monarchs, who seemed to strive 
for the dominion of Europe. But this prince was in his char- 
acter heedless, inconsiderate, capricious, impolitic ; guided by 
his passions or his favorite ; vain, imperious, haughty ; some- 
times actuated by friendship for foreign powers, oftener by 
resentment, seldom by his true interest. And thus, though he 
exulted in that superiority which his situation in Europe gave 
him, he never employed it to his own essential and durable 
advantage, or to that of his kingdom. 

[1520.] Francis was well acquainted with Henry's char- 
acter, and endeavored to accommodate his conduct to it. He 
solicited an interview near Calais ; in expectation of being able 
by familiar conversation to gain upon his friendship and con- 
fidence. "Wolsey earnestly seconded this proposal ; and hoped, 
in the presence of both courts to make parade of his riches, 
his splendor, and his influence over both monarchs.* And as 
Henry himself loved show and magnificence, and had enter- 
tained a curiosity of being personally acquainted with the 
French king, he cheerfully adjusted all the preliminaries of 
this interview. The nobility of both nations vied with each 
other in pomp and expense : many of them involved them- 
selves in great debts, and were not able, by the penury of their 
whole lives, to repair the vain splendor of a few days. The 
duke of Buckingham, who, though very rich, was somewhat 
addicted to frugality, finding his preparations for this festival 
amount to immense sums, threw out some expressions of dis- 
pleasure against the cardinal, whom he believed the author of 

* Polyd. Virg. lib. xxvii. 
VOL. III. — F 



122 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. I52t) 

that measure;* an imprudence which was not forgotten by 
this minister. 

While Henry was preparing to depart for Calais, he heard 
that the emperor was arrived at Dover ; and he immediately 
hastened thither with the queen, in order to give a suitable 
reception to his royal guest. That great prince, politic though 
young, being informed of the intended interview between 
Francis and Henry, was apprehensive of the consequences ; 
and was resolved to take the opportunity, in his passage from 
Spain to the Low Countries, to make the king still a higher 
compliment, by paying him a visit in his own dominions. 
Besides the marks of regard and attachment which he gave to 
Henry, he strove by every testimony of friendship, by flattery, 
protestations, promises, and presents, to gain on the vanity, 
the avarice, and the ambition of the cardinal. He here 
instilled into this aspiring prelate the hope of attaining the 
papacy ; and as that was the sole point of elevation beyond 
his present greatness, it was sure to attract his wishes with the 
same ardor as if Fortune had never yet favored him with any 
of her presents. In confidence of reaching this dignity by the 
emperor's assistance, he secretly devoted himself to that mon- 
arch's interests ; and Charles was perhaps the more liberal 
of his promises, because Leo was a very young man ; and it 
was not likely that for many years he should be called upon 
to fulfil his engagements. Henry easily observed this court- 
ship paid to his minister; but instead of taking umbrage at it, 
he only made it a subject of vanity ; and believed that, as his 
favor was Wolsey's sole support, the obeisance of such mighty 
monarchs to his servant was, in reality, a more conspicuous 
homage to his own grandeur. 

The day of Charles's departure, Henry went over to Calais 
with the queen and his whole court ; and thence proceeded to 
Guisnes, a small town near the frontiers. Francis, attended 
in like manner, came to Ardres, a few miles distant ; and the 
two monarchs met, for the first time, in the fields, at a place 
situated between these two towns, but still within the English 
pale ; for Francis agreed to pay this compliment to Henry, in 
consideration of that prince's passing the sea that he might be 
present at the interview. Wolsey, to whom both kings hat? 
intrusted the regulation of the ceremonial, contrived this cii- 
tmmstance, in order to do honor to his master. The nobility 

* Polyd Virg. lib xxvii. Herbert. Holingshed, r.. 85')- 



A. D. 1520] henry viii. 123 

both of France and England here displayed their magnificence 
with such emulation and profuse expense, as procured to tho 
place of interview the name of " the field of the cloth of gold." 

The two monarchs, after saluting each other in the most 
cordial manner, retired into a tent which had been erected on 
purpose, and they held a secret conference together. Henry 
here proposed to make some amendments on the articles of 
their former alliance ; and he began to read the treaty, " 1 
Henry, king :" these were the first words ; and he stopped a 
moment. He subjoined only the words "of England," with- 
out adding " France," the usual style of the English mon- 
archs.* Francis remarked this delicacy, and expressed by a 
smile his approbation of it. 

He took an opportunity soon after of paying a compliment 
to Henry of a more flattering nature. That generous prince, 
full of honor himself, and incapable of distrusting others, was 
shocked at all the precautions which were observed whenever 
he had an interview with the English monarch : the number 
of their guards and attendants were carefully reckoned on both 
sides : every step was scrupulously measured and adjusted ■ 
and if the two kings intended to pay a visit to the queens, they 
departed from their respective quarters at the same instant, 
which was marked by the firing of a culverin ; they passed 
each other in the middle point between the places ; and the 
moment that Henry entered Ardres, Francis put himself into 
the hands of the English at Guisnes. In order to break oft' this 
tedious ceremonial, which contained so many dishonorable 
implications, Francis one day took with him two gentlemen 
and a page, and rode directly into Guisnes. The guards were 
surprised at the presence of the monarch, who called aloud to 
them, " You are all my prisoners : carry me to your master.' 
Henry was equally astonished at the appearance of Francis ; 
and taking him in his arms, "My brother," said he, "you 
have here played me the most agreeable trick in the world, 
and have showed me the full confidence I may place in you ; 
I surrender myself your prisoner from this moment." He 
took from his neck a collar of pearls, worth fifteen thousand 
angels ;t and putting it about Francis's, begged him to wear, 
it for the sake of his prisoner. Francis agreed, but on con-, 
dition that Henry should wear a bracelet of which he made!'. 

* Memoires de Fleuranges. 

f An angel was then estimated at seven shillings, or near twelve 
cf our present money. 



MS 



1^,4 HISTORY OF ENGI-4.ND. |A D 1 5<Jb 

him a pre'xnt, and which was double in value to the collar * 
The king went next day to Ardres without guards or attend- 
ants ; and confidence being now fully established between the 
•uonarchs, they employed the rest of the time entirely in tour- 
•ainents and festivals. 

A defiance had been sent by the two kings to each other's 
court, and through all the chief cities in Europe, importing, 
that Henry and Francis, with fourteen aids, would be ready, 
in the plains of Picardy, to answer all comers that were gen- 
tlemen, at tilt, tournament, and barriers. The monarchs, in 
order to fulfil this challenge, advanced into the field on horse- 
back, Francis surrounded with Henry's guards, and Henry 
with those of Francis. They were gorgeously apparelled ; 
and were both of them the most comely personages of their 
age, as well as the most expert in every military exercise. 
They carried away the prize at all trials in those rough and 
dangerous pastimes ; and several horses and riders were over- 
thrown by their vigor and dexterity. The ladies were the 
judges in these feats of chivalry, and put an end to the ren- 
counter whenever they judged it expedient. Henry erected a 
spacious house of wood and canvas, which had been framed 
in London ; and he there feasted the French monarch. He 
had placed a motto on this fabric, under the figure of an Eng- 
lish archer embroidered on it, "Cui adhsreo priest," He pre- 
vails whom I favor ;t expressing his own situation, as holding 
in his hands the balance of power among the potentates of 
Europe. In these entertainments, more than in any serious 
business, did the two kings pass their time, till their de- 
parture. 

Henry paid then a visit to the emperor and Margaret of 
Savoy at Gravelines, and engaged them to go along with him 
to Calais, and pass some days in that fortress. The artful and 
politic Charles here completed the impression which he had 
begun to make on Henry and his favorite, and effaced all the 
friendship to which the frank and generous nature of Francis 
had given birth. As the house of Austria began sensibly to 
take the ascendant over the French monarchy, the interests 
of England required that some support should be given to the 
latter, and, above all, that any important wars should be pre- 
vented which might bestow on either of them a decisive 
superiority over the other. But the jealousy of the English 



* Memoires de Fleurangea. t Mezeray, 



A.l) f£'Ji.;| HENRY VTJI. 123 

agamst France has usually prevented a cordial union between 
these nations ; and Charles, sensible of this hereditary animos- 
ity, and desirous further to flatter Henry's vanity, xiad made 
him an offer, (an offer in which Francis was afterwards obliged 
to concur,) that he should be entirely arbiter in any dispute or 
difference that might arise between the monarchs. But the 
masterpiece of Charles's politics was the securing of Wolsey 
ju his interests, by very important services, and still highei 
promises. lie renewed assurances of assisting him in obtain- 
ing the papacy ; and he put him in present possession of the 
revenues belonging to the sees of Badajoz and Palencia in 
Castile. The acquisitions of Wolsey were now become so ex- 
orbitant, that, joined to the pensions from foreign powers which 
Henry allowed him to possess, his revenues were computed 
nearly to equal those which belonged to the crown itself; and 
he spent them with a magnificence, or rather an ostentation 
which gave general offence to the people ; and even lessened 
his master in the eyes of all foreign nations.* 

The violent personal emufation and political jealousy which 
had taken place between the emperor and the French king, 
soon broke out in hostilities. But while these ambitious and 
warlike princes were acting against each other in almost every 
part of Europe, they still made professions of the strongest 
desire of peace ; and both of them incessantly carried their 
complaints to Henry, as to the umpire between them. The 
king, who pretended to be neutral, engaged them to send 
their ambassadors to Calais, there to negotiate a peace under 
the mediation of Wolsey and the pope's nuncio. The em- 
peror was well apprised of the partiality of these mediators ; 
and his demands in the conference were so unreasonable, as 
plainly proved him conscious of the advantage. He required 
the restitution of Burgundy, a province which many years 
before had been ceded to France by treaty, and which, if in 
his possession, would have given him entrance into the heart 
of that kingdom : and he demanded to be freed from the horn 
age which his ancestors had always done for Flanders aur* 
Artois, and which he himself had by the treaty of Noyon eu 
gaged to renew. [1521.] On Francis's rejecting these terms, 
the congress of Calais broke up ; and Wolsey soon after took a 
journey to Bruges, where ho met with the emperor. He was 
.received with the same state, magnificence, ami respect, as i/ 

* Polyd. Vir<r. Hall. 



!26 HISTORY 01' ENGLAND. [A. D. 1 52 1 

he had been the king of England himself; and he concluded, 
m his master's name, an offensive alliance with the pope am! 
the emperor against France. He stipulated that England 
should next summer invade that kingdom with forty thousauJ 
men ; and he betrothed to Charles the princess Mary, the 
king's only child, who had now some prospect of inheriting 
the crown. This extravagant alliance, which was prejudicial 
to the interests, and might have proved fatal to the liberty and 
independence of the kingdom, was the result of the humors 
and prejudices of the king, and the private views and expecta 
tions of the cardinal. 

The people saw every day new instances of the uncontrolled 
authority of this minister. The duke of Buckingham, consta- 
ble of England, the first nobleman both for family and fortune 
in the kingdom, had imprudently given disgust to the cardinal ; 
and it was not long before he found reason to repent of his 
indiscretion. He seems to have been a man full of levity and 
rash projects ; and being infatuated with judu-ial astrology, he 
entertained a commerce with onefliopkins, a Carthusian iriar. 
who encouraged him in the notion of his mounting one day the 
throne of England. He was descended by a female from the 
duke of Glocester, youngest son of Edward III. ; and though 
his claim to the crown was thereby very remote, he had been 
so unguarded as to let fall some expressions, as if he thought 
himself best entitled, in case the king should die without issue, 
to possess the royal dignity. He had not even abstained from 
threats against the king's life ; and had provided himself with 
arms, which he intended to employ, in case a favorable oppor- 
tunity should offer. He was brought to a trial ; and the duke of 
Norfolk, whose son, the earl of Surrey, had married Bucking- 
ham's daughter, was created lord steward, in order to preside 
at this solemn procedure. The jury consisted of a duke, a 
marquis, seven earls, and twelve barons ; and they gave their 
verdict against Buckingham, which was soon after carried into 
execution. There is no reason to think the sentence unjust ;* 
but as Buckingham's crimes seemed to proceed more frotjS 
indiscretion than deliberate malice, the people, who loved him, 
expected that the king would grant him a pardon, and imputed 
their disappointment to the animosity and revenge of the car- 
dinal. The king's own jealousy, however, of all persons allied 

* Herbert. Hall. Stowe, p. 513. Holingshed, p. 8G2, 



A. D. 1521.] HENRY vra. i*/ 

to the crown, was, notwithstanding his undoubted tilie, very 
remarkable daring the whole course of his reign ; and was 
alone sufficient to render him implacable against Buckingham 
The office of constable, which this noble.oian inherited from 
the Bohuns, earls of Hereford, was forfeited, and was nevci 
after revived in England. 



128 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1 521 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

HENRY VIII. 

[1521.] During some years, many parts of Europe had 
been agitated with those religious controversies which produced 
the reformation, one of the greatest events in history : but as 
: t was not till this time that the king of England publicly took 
part in the quarrel, we had no occasion to give any account of 
its rise and progress. It will now be necessary to explain 
these theological disputes ; or. what is more material, to trace 
from their origin those abuses Avhich so generally diffused the 
opinion, that a reformation of the church or ecclesiastical order 
was become highly expedient, if not absolutely necessary. 
We shall be better enabled to comprehend the subject if we 
take the matter a little higher, and reflect a moment on the 
reasons why there must be an ecclesiastical order and a 
public establishment of religion in every civilized community. 
The importance of the present occasion will, I hope, excuse 
this short digression 

Most of the arts and professions in a state are of such a 
nature, that, while they promote the interests of the society, 
they are also useful or agreeable to some individuals ; and, in 
that case, the constant rule of the magistrate, except, perhaps, 
on the first introduction of any art, is to leave the profession to 
itself, and trust its encouragement to those who reap the ben- 
efit of it. The artisans, finding their profits to rise by the 
favor of their customers, increase as much as possible their 
skill and industry ; and as matters are not disturbed by any 
injudicious tampering, the commodity is always sure to be at 
all times nearly proportioned to the demand. 

But there are also some callings which, though useful ana 
even necessary in a state, bring no particular advantage oi 
pleasure to any individual ; and the supreme power is obliged 
to alter its conduct with regard to the retainers of those pro- 
fessions. It must give them public encouragement in order to 
their subsistence ; and it must provide against that negligenco 
to which they will naturally be subject, either by annexing 
peculiar honors to the profession, by establishing % '(n-g- «■«•%*». 



A. D. 1521.] HES.RY VIII. l^it 

ordination of ranks and a strict dependence, or by some other 
expedient. The persons employed in the finances, armies 
fleets, and magistracy, are instances of this order of men. 

It may naturally be thought, at first sight, that the ecclesi 
astics belong to the first class, and that their encouragement, 
as well as that of lawyers and physicians, may safely be in- 
trusted to the liberality of individuals, who are attached to 
their doctrines, and who find benefit or consolation from their 
gpiritual ministry and assistance. Their industry and vigilance 
will no doubt, be whetted by such an additional motive ; and 
their skill in their profession, as well as their address in gov- 
erning the minds of the people, must receive daily increase 
from their increasing practice, study, and attention. 

But if we consider the matter more closely, we shall find , 
that this interested diligence of the clergy is what every wise 
legislator will study to prevent ; because in every religion, 
except the true, it is highly pernicious, and it has even a na- 
tural tendency to pervert the true, by infusing into it a strong 
mixture of superstition, folly, and delusion. Each ghostly 
practitioner, in order to render himself more precious and 
sacred in the eyes of his retainers, will inspire them with the 
most violent abhorrence of all other sects, and continually en- 
deavor, by some novelty, to excite the languid devotion of his 
audience. No regard will be paid to truth, morals, or decency, 
in the doctrines inculcated. Every tenet will be adopted that 
best suits the disorderly affections of the human frame. Cus- 
tomers will be drawn to each conventicle by new industry and 
address, in practising on the passions and credulity of the 
•jopulace. And, in the end, the civil magistrate will find, that 
he has dearly paid for his pretended frugality, in saving a fixed 
establishment for the priests ; and that in reality the most de- 
cent and advantageous composition which he can make with 
the spiritual guides is to bribe their indolence, by assigning 
stated salaries to their profession, and rendering it superfluous 
for them to be further active than merely to prevent their 
flock from straying in quest of new pastures. And in this 
manner ecclesiastical establishments, though commonly they 
arose at first from religious views, prove in the end advanta 
geous to the political interests of society. 

But we may observe, that few ecclesiastical establishments 
have been fixed upon a worse foundation than that of the 
church of Borne, or have been attended with circumstances 
more hurtful to the peace and happiness of mankind. 



130 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1521 

The large revenues, privileges, immunities, and powers of 
the clergy, rendered them formidable to the civil magistrate., 
and armed with too extensive authority an order of men who 
always adhere closely together, and who never want a plausi- 
ble pretence for their encroachments and usurpations. The 
higher dignities of the church served, indeed, tc the support 
of gentry and nobility ; but by the establishment of monas 
teries, many of the lowest vulgar were taken from the useful 
arts, and maintained in those receptacles of sloth and ignorance. 
The supreme head of the church was a foreign potentate, 
guided by interests always different from those of the com- 
munity, sometimes contrary to them. And as the hierarchy 
was necessarily solicitous to preserve a unity of faith, rites, 
and ceremonies, all liberty of thought ran a manifest risk of 
being extinguished ; and violent persecutions, or, what was 
worse, a stupid and abject credulity, took place every where. 

To increase these evils, the Church, though she possessed 
iarge revenues, was not contented with her acquisitions, but 
retained a power of practising further on the ignorance of 
mankind. She even bestowed on each individual priest a 
power of enriching himself by the voluntary oblations of the 
faithful, and left him still an urgent motive for diligence and 
industry in his calling. And thus that church, though an 
expensive and burdensome establishment, was liable to many 
of the inconveniences which belong to an order of priests, 
trusting entirely to their own art and invention for obtaining 
a subsistence. 

The advantages attending the Romish hierarchy were but a 
small compensation for its inconveniences. The ecclesiastical 
privileges, during barbarous times, had served as a check on 
the despotism of kings. The union of all the western churches 
under the supreme pontiff facilitated the intercourse of nations, 
and tended to bind all the parts of Europe into a close con- 
nection with each other. And the pomp and splendor of 
worship which belonged to so opulent an establishment, con- 
tributed in some respect to the encouragement of the fine arts, 
and began to diffuse a general elegance of taste by uniting it 
with religion. 

It will easily be conceived that, though the balance of evil 
prevailed in the Romish church, this was not the chief jeason 
which produced the reformation. A concurrence of incidents 
must have contributed to forward that great revolution. 

Loo X., by his generous and enterprising temper, had muefr 



A. J). 1521] henry vm. 131 

exhausced his treasury, and was obliged to employ everv 
invention which might yield money, in order to support his 
projects, pleasures, and liberalities. The scheme of selling 
indulgences was suggested to him, as an expedient which had 
often served in former times to draw money from the Chris- 
tian world, and make devout people willing contributors to the 
grandeur and riches of the court of Rome. The church, it 
was supposed, was possessed of a great stock of merit, as 
being entitled to all the good works of all the saints, beyond 
what were employed in their own justification ; and even to 
the merits of Christ himself, which were infinite and unbound- 
ed ; and from this unexhausted treasury the pope might retail 
particular portions, and by that traffic acquire money to be 
employed in pious purposes, in resisting the infidels, or subdu- 
ing schismatics. When the money came into his excheq- 
uer, the greater part of it was usually diverted to other pur- 
poses.* 

It is commonly believed that Leo, from the penetration of 
his genius, and his familiarity with ancient literature, was fully 
acquainted with the ridicule and falsity of the doctrines which, 
as supreme pontiff, he was obliged by his interest to promote : 
it is the less wonder, therefore, that he employed for his profit 
those pious frauds which his predecessors, the most ignorant and 
credulous, had always, under plausible pretences, made use of 
for their selfish purposes. He published the sale of a general 
indulgence ;t and as his expenses had not only exhausted his 
usual revenue, but even anticipated the money expected from 
this extraordinary expedient, the several branches of it were 
openly given away to particular persons, who were entitled to 
levy the imposition. The produce, particularly of Saxony and 
the countries bordering on the Baltic, was assigned to his sister 
Magdalene, married to Cibo, natural son of Innocent VIII. ; 
and she, in order to enhance her profit, had farmed out the 
revenue to one Arcemboldi, a Genoese, once a merchant, now 
a bishop, who still retained all the lucrative arts of his former 
profession, t The Austin friars had usually been employed 
in Saxony to preach the indulgences, and from this trust had 
derived both profit and consideration : but Arcemboldi, fearing 
lest practice might have taught them moans to secrete the 
money, § and expecting no extraordinary success from the 
ordinary methods of collection, gave this occupation to th«? 

* Father Paul and Sleidan. t In 1517. 

} Father Paul. Sleidan. $ Father Paul, lib. i 



132 UlhiuRY OP ENGLAAU. [A.l>. 1521. 

Dominicans. These monks, in order to prove themselves 
worthy of the distinction conferred on them, exaggerated tha 
benefits of indulgences by the most unbounded panegyrics ; 
and advanced doctrines on that head, which, though not mora 
ridiculous than those already received, were not as yet entirely 
familiar to the ears of the people.* To add to the scandal, 
the collectors of this revenue are said to have lived very licen- 
tious lives, and to have spent in taverns, gaming-houses, and 
places still more infamous, the money which devout persona 
had saved from their usual expenses, in order to purchase a 
remission of their sins.f 

All these circumstances might have given cfience, but would 
have been attended with no event of any importance, had 
there not arisen a man qualified to take advantage of the inci 
dent. Martin Luther, an Austin friar, professor in the uni- 
versity of Wittemberg, resenting the affront put upon his order, 
began to preach against these abuses in the sale of indulgences ; 
and heing naturally of a fiery temper, and provoked by oppo- 
sition, he proceeded even to decry indulgences themselves . 
and was thence carried, by the heat of dispute, to question the 
authority of the pope, from which his adversaiies derived their 
chief arguments against him. t Still, as he enlarged his read- 
ing, in order to support these tenets, he discovered some new 
abuse or error in the church of Rome ; and finding his opinions 
greedily hearkened to, he promulgated them by writing, dis- 
course, sermon, conference ; and daily increased the numbei 
of his disciples. All Saxony, all Germany, all Europe, were 
in a very little time filled with the voice of this daring inno 
vator ; and men, roused from that lethargy in which they had 
so long slept, began to call in question the most ancient and 
most received opinions. The elector of Saxony, favorahle to 
Luther's doctrine, protected him from the violence of the 
papal jurisdiction : the republic of Zurich even reformed their 
church according to the new model : many sovereigns of the 
empire, and the imperial diet itself, showed a favorable dispo- 
sition towards it : and Luther, a man naturally inflexible, 
vehement, opinionative, was become incapable, either from 
promises of advancement or terrors of severity, to relinquish a 
aect of which he was himself the founder, and which brought 
him a glory superior to all others — the glory of dictating the 
religious faith and principles of multitudes. 

* See note D, at the end of the volume. 

I Father Paul, lib. i. J Father Paul. Sleidan. 



A.J). 1621. 1 henry via. 13$ 

The rumor of these innovations soon reached England ; 
and as there still subsisted in that kingdom great remains of 
the Lollards, whose principles resembled those of Luther, the 
new doctrines secretly gained many partisans among the laity 
of all ranks and denominations. But Henry had been educated 
in a strict attachment to the church of Rome ; and he bore a 
particular prejudice against Luther, who, in his writings, spoke 
with contempt of Thomas Aquinas, the king's favorite author * 
he opposed himself, therefore, to the progress of the Lutheraa 
tenets, by all the inriuence which his extensive and almost 
absolute authority conferred upon him : he even undertook to 
combat them with weapons not usually employed by monarchs, 
especially those in the flower of their age and force of their 
passions. He wrote a book in Latin against the principles 
of Luther ; a performance which, if allowance be made for 
the subject and the age, does no discredit to his capacity. 
He sent a copy of it to Leo, who received so magnificent a 
present with great testimony of regard ; and conferred on him 
the title of "defender of the faith;" an appellation still re- 
tained by the kings of England. Luther, who was in the 
heat of controversy, soon published an answer to Henry ; and 
without regard to the dignity of his antagonist, treated him 
with all the acrimony of style to which, in the course of his 
polemics, he had so long been accustomed. The king, by this 
ill usage, was still more prejudiced against the new doctrines ; 
but the public, who naturally favor the weaker party, were 
inclined to attribute to Luther the victory in the dispute.* 
And as the controversy became more illustrious by Henry's 
entering the lists, it drew still more the attention of mankind ; 
and the Lutheran doctrine daily acquired new converts in 
every part of Europe. 

The quick and surprising progress of this bold sect may 
justly in part be ascribed to the late invention of printing, 
and revival of learning : not that reason bore any considerable 
share in opening men's eyes with regard to the impostures of 
the Romish church ; for of all branches of literature, philosophy 
had, as yet, and till long afterwards, made the most incon- 
siderable progress ; neither is there any instance, that argu- 
ment has ever been able to free the people from that enormous 
load Df absurdity with which superstition has every where 
avarwhelmed them ; not to mention, that the rapid advance 



* Father Paul, lib. i. 



134 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [ A. D 1521 

of the Lutheran doctrine, and the violence with which it was 
embraced, prove sufficiently, that it owed not its success to 
reason and reflection. The art of printing and the revival of 
learning forwarded its progress in another manner. By means 
of that art, the books of Luther and his sectaries, full of 
vehemence, declamation, and a rude eloquence, were propa- 
gated more quickly, and in greater numbers. The minds of 
men, sooewhat awakened from a profound sleep of so many 
centuries, were prepared for every novelty, and scrupled less to 
(read in any unusual path which was opened to them. And 
as copies of the Scriptures and other ancient monuments of 
the Christian faith became more common, men perceived 
the innovations which were introduced after the first cen- 
turies ; and though argument and reasoning could not give 
conviction, an historical fact, well supported, was able to make 
impression on their understandings. Many of the powers, 
indeed, assumed by the church of Rome, were very ancient, 
and were prior to almost every political government established 
in Europe : but as the ecclesiastics would not agree to possess 
their privileges as matters of civil right, which time might 
render valid, but appealed still to a divine origin, men were 
tempted to look into their primitive charter ; and they could, 
without much difficulty, perceive its defect in truth and 
authenticity. 

In order to bestow on this topic the greater influence, 
Luther and his followers, not satisfied with opposing the 
pretended divinity of the Romish church, and displaying the 
temporal inconveniences of that establishment, carried matters 
much further, and treated the religion of their ancestors as 
abominable, destestable, damnable ; foretold by sacred writ 
itself as a source of all wickedness and pollution. They 
denominated the pope Antichrist, called his communion the 
«car)et whore, and gave to Rome the appellation of Babylon ; 
expressions which, however applied, were to be found in 
Scripture, and which were better calculated to operate on the 
multitude than the most solid arguments. Excited by contest 
and persecution on the one hand, by success and applause 
on the other, many of the reformers carried to the greatest 
extremities their opposition to the church of Rome ; and in 
contradiction to the multiplied superstitions with which that 
communion was loaded, they adopted an enthusiastic strain 
of devotion, which admitted of no observances, rites, or cere 
niouies, but placed all merit in a mysterious species of faith 



\. D. 1621.1 Ronrr vm. 135 

.n inward vision, rapture, and ecstasy. The new sertanes, 
seized with this spirit, were indefatigable in the propagation 
of their doctrine, and set at defiance all the anathemas and 
punishments with which the Roman pontiff endeavored to 
overwhelm them. 

That the civil power, however, might afford them protec- 
tion against the ecclesiastical jurisdiction, the Lutherans ad- 
vanced doctrines favorable in some respect to the temporal 
authority of sovereigns. They inveighed against the abuses 
of the court of Rome, with which men were at that time 
generally discontented ; and they exhorted princes to reinstate 
themselves in those powers, of which the encroaching spirit of 
the ecclesiastics, especially of the sovereign pontiff had so long 
bereaved them. They condemned celibacy and monastic vows, 
and thereby opened the doors of the convents to those who 
were either tired of the obedience and chastity, or disgusted 
with the license, in which they had hitherto lived. They 
blamed the excessive riches, the idleness, the libertinism of the 
clergy; and pointed out their treasures and revenues as lawful 
spoil to the first invader. And as the ecclesiastics had hither- 
to conducted a willing and a stupid audience, and were totally 
unacquainted with controversy, much more with every species 
of true literature, they were unable to defend themselves against 
men armed with authorities, quotations, and popular topics, 
and qualified to triumph in every altercation or debate. Such 
were the advantages with which the reformers began their 
attack on the Romish hierarchy ; and such were the causes 
of their rapid and astonishing success. 

Leo X., whose oversights and too supine trust in the pro- 
found ignorance of the people had given rise to this sect, but 
whose sound judgment, moderation, and temper, were well 
qualified to retard its progress, died in the flower of his age, a 
little after he received the king's book against Luther ; and 
he was succeeded in the papal chair by Adrian, a Fleming, 
who had been tutor to the emperor Charles. This man was 
fitted to gain on the reformers by the integrity, candor, and 
simplicity of manners which distinguished his character ; 
but, so violent were their prejudices against the church, he 
rather hurt the cause by his imprudent exercise of those 
virtuas. He frankly confessed, that many abominable and 
detestable practices prevailed in the court of Rome ; and by 
this sincere avowal, he gave occasion of much triumph to the 
Lutherans. This pontiff alsr, whose penetration was not 



i36 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. ]A JP 1 1>22 

equal to his good intentions, was seduced to concur in that 
league which Charles and Henry had formed against France ; * 
and he thereby augmented the scandal occasioned by the prac- 
tice of so many preceding popes, who still made their spiritual 
arms subservient to political purposes. 

[1522.] The emperor, who knew that Wolsey had re- 
ceived a disappointment in his ambitious hopes by the election 
of Adrian, and who dreaded the resentment of that haughty 
minister, was solicitous to repair the breach made in their 
friendship by this incident. He paid another visit to Eng- 
land ; and besides flattering the vanity of the king and the 
cardinal, he renewed to Wolsey all the promises which he 
had made him of seconding his pretensions to the papal throne. 
Wolsey, sensible that Adrian's great .age and infirmities prom 
ised a speedy vacancy, dissembled his resentment, and wa3 
willing to hope for a more prosperous issue to the next 
election. The emperor renewed the treaty made at Bruges, 
to which some articles were added ; and he agreed to indem- 
nify both the king and Wolsey for the revenue which they 
should lose by a breach with France. The more to ingratiate 
himself with Henry and the English nation, he gave to Sur- 
rey, admiral of England, a commission for being admiral of 
his dominions ; and he himself was installed knight of the 
garter at London. After a stay of six weeks in England, he 
embarked at Southampton, and in ten days arrived in Spain, 
where he soon pacified the tumults which had arisen in his 
absence.t 

The king declared war against France ; and this measure 
was founded on so little reason, that he could allege nothing 
as a ground of quarrel, but Francis's refusal to submit to his 
arbitration, and his sending Albany into Scotland. This last 
step had not been taken by the French king, till he was quite 
assured of Henry's resolution to attack him. Surrey landed 
some troops at Cherbourg, in Normandy ; and after laying 
waste the country, he sailed to Morlaix, a rich town in Brit- 
tany, which he took and plundered. The English merchants 
had great property in that place, which was no more spared 
by the soldiers than the goods of the French. Surrey then 
'eft the charge of the fleet to the vice-admiial ; and sailed 
£. Calais, where he took the command of the <*glish army. 



* Guicciard. lih. xiv. 

1 Petrus dc Angleria, epist. 76* 



A D. 1522. j henry vra. 1&7 

destined for the invasion of France. This army, -when 
joined hy forces from the Low Countries, under the command 
of the count de Buren. amounted in the whoie to eighteen 
thousand men. 

The French had made it a maxim, in almost all their wars 
with the English since the reign of Charles V., never, with- 
out great necessity, to hazard a general engagement ; and the 
duke of Vendome, who commanded the French army, now 
embraced this wise policy. He supplied the towns most 
exposed, especially Boulogne, Montreuil, Terouenne, Hedin, 
with strong garrisons and plenty of provisions : he himself took 
post at Abbeville, with some Swiss and French infantry, and a 
body of cavalry : the count of Guise encamped under Mon- 
treuil with six thousand men. These two bodies were in a 
situation to join upon occasion ; to throw supply into any town 
that was threatened ; and to harass the English in every 
movement. Surrey, who was not provided with magazines, 
first divided his troops for the convenience of subsisting them ; 
but finding that his quarters were every moment beaten up 
by the activity of the French generals, he drew together his 
forces, and laid siege to Hedin. But neither did he succeed 
in this enterprise. The garrison made vigorous sallies upon 
his army : the French forces assaulted him from without : 
great rains fell : fatigue and bad weather threw the soldiers 
into dysenteries : and Surrey was obliged to raise the siege, 
and put his troops into winter quarters about the end of Octo- 
ber. His rear guard was attacked at Pas, in Artois, and five 
or six hundred men were cut off; nor could all his efforts 
make him master of one place within the French frontier. 

The allies were more successful in Italy. Lautrec, who 
commanded the French, lost a great battle at Bicocca, near 
Milan ; and was obliged to retire with the remains of his army. 
This misfortune, which proceeded from Francis's negligence 
in not supplying Lautrec with money,* was followed by the 
loss of Genoa. The castle of Cremona was the sole fortress 
in Italy which remained in the hands of the French. 

Europe was now in such a situation, and so connected by 
different alliances and interests, that it was almost impos- 
sible for war to be kindled in one part, and not diffuse itself 
throughout the whole ; but of all the leagues among kingdoms, 
the closest was that which had so long subsisted between 



* G .licciard. lib. xiv. 



138 HISTORY OF ENGLANI*. [A. D. 1523 

France and Scotland ; and the English, while at war with tha 
former nation, could not hope to remain long unmolested on 
the northern frontier. No sooner had Albany arrived in Scot- 
land, than he took measures for kindling a war with England ; 
and he summoned the whole force of the kingdom to meet in 
the fields of Rosline.* He thence conducted the army south- 
wards into Annandale, and prepared to pass the borders at 
Solway Frith. But many of the nobility were disgusted with 
the regent's administration ; and observing that his connections 
with Scotland were feeble in comparison of those which he 
maintained with France, they murmured that for the sake of 
foreign interests, their peace should so often be disturbed, 
and war, during their king's minority, be wantonly entered 
into with a neighboring nation, so much superior in force and 
riches. The Gordons, in particular, refused to advance any 
farther; and Albany, obseiving a general discontent to prevail, 
was obliged to conclude a truce with Lord Dacres, warden of 
the English west marches. Soon after he departed for France ; 
and lest the opposite faction should gather force in his absence, 
he sent thither before him the earl of xlngus, husband to the 
queen dowager. 

[1523.] Next year, Henry, that he might take advantage 
of the regent's absence, marched an army into Scotland under 
the command of Surrey, who ravaged the Merse and Teviot- 
dale without opposition, and burned the town of Jedburgh. 
The Scots had neither king nor regent to conduct them : the 
two Humes had been put to death : Angus was in a manner 
banished : no nobleman of vigor or authority remained, who 
was qualified to assume the government : and the English 
monarch, who knew the distressed situation of the country, 
determined to push them to extremity, in hopes of engasring 
them, by the sense of their present weakness, to make a solemn 
renunciation of the French alliance, and to embrace that of 
England.! He even gave them hopes of contracting a mar- 
riage between the lady Mary, heiress of England, and their 
young monarch ; an expedient which would forever unite tha 
two kingdoms:! and the queen dowager, with her whole 
party, recommended every where the advantages of this alii 
auce, and of a confederacy with Henry. They said that the 



* Buchanan, lib xiv. Drummond Pitscotti* 
t Buchanan, lib. xiv. Herbert. 
J Le Gf-and, vo.. iii. p. 39. 



A. D. 1523.1 HENRY V11I. W% 

interests of Scotland had too long been sacrificed to those 
of the French nation, who, whenever they found themselves 
reduced to difficulties, called for the assistance of their allies ; 
but were ready to abandon them as soon as they found theii 
advantage in making peace with England : that where a small 
state entered into so close a confederacy with a greater, it 
must always expect this treatment, as a consequence of the 
unequal alliance ; but there were peculiar circumstances in the 
situation of the kingdoms, which, in the present case, rendered 
it inevitable : that France was so distant, and so divided from 
them by sea, that she scarcely could, by any means, and never 
could in time, send succors to the Scots, sufficient to protect 
them against ravages from the neighboring kingdom : that 
nature had, in a manner, formed an alliance between the two 
British nations ; having enclosed them in the same island ; 
given them the same manners, language, laws, and form of 
government ; and prepared every thing for an intimate union 
between them : and that, if national antipathies were abol- 
ished, which would soon be the effect of peace, these two king- 
doms, secured by the ocean and by their domestic force, could 
set at defiance all foreign enemies, and remain forever safe and 
unmolested. 

The partisans of the French alliance, on the other hand, 
said, that the very reasons which were urged in favor of a 
league with England, the vicinity of the kingdom and its 
superior force, were the real causes why a sincere and durable 
confederacy could never be formed with that hostile nation . 
that among neighboring states occasions of quarrel were fre- 
cjuent, and the more powerful would be sure to seize every 
frivolous pretence for oppressing the weaker, and reducing it 
to subjection : that as the near neighborhood of France and 
England had kindled a war almost perpetual between them, it 
was the interest of the Scots, if they wished to maintain their 
independence, to preserve their league with the former king- 
dom, which balanced the force of the latter : that if they de- 
serted that old and salutary alliance on which their importance 
in Europe chiefly depended, their ancient enemies, stimulated 
both by interest and by passion, would soon invade thein with 
guperior force, and bereave them of all their liberties : or if 
they delayed the attack, the insidious peace, by making the 
Scots forget the use of arms, would only prepare the way lbs 
«, slavery more certain and more irretrievable.* 

* Buchanan, lib. xiv. 



140 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1/523. 

The arguments employed by the French party, being sec- 
onded by the natural prejudices of the people, seemed most 
prevalent : and when the regent himself, who had been long 
detained beyond his appointed time by the danger from the 
English fleet, at last appeared among them, he was able to 
throw the balance entirely on that side. By authority of the 
convention of states, he assembled an army, with a view of 
avenging the ravages committed by the English in the begin- 
ning of the campaign ; and he led them southwards towards 
the borders. But when they were passing the Tweed at the 
bridge of Melross, the English party raised again such oppo- 
sition, that Albany thought proper to make a retreat. He 
marched downwards, along the banks of the Tweed, keeping 
that river on his right ; and fixed his camp opposite to Werk 
castle, which Surrey had lately repaired. He sent over some 
troops to besiege this fortress, who made a breach in it, and 
stormed some of the outworks : but the regent, hearing of 
the approach of an English army, and discouraged by the 
advanced season, thought proper to disband his forces and 
retire to Edinburgh. Soon after, he went over to France, 
and never again returned to Scotland. The Scottish nation, 
agitated by their domestic factions, were not, during several 
years, in a condition to give any more disturbance to England , 
and Henry had full leisure to prosecute his designs on the 
continent. 

The reason why the war against France proceeded so slowly 
on the part of England, was the want of money. All the 
treasures of Henry VII. were long ago dissipated ; the king's 
habits of expense still remained ; and his revenues were un- 
equal even to the ordinary charge of government, much more 
to his military enterprises. He had last year caused a general 
survey to be made of the kingdom ; the numbers of men, theii 
years, profession, stock, revenue ; * and expressed great satis- 
faction on finding the nation so opulent. He then issued privy 
seals to the most wealthy, demanding loans of particular sums : 
this act of power, though somewhat irregular and tyrannical, 
had been formerly practised by kings of England ; and the 
people were now familiarized to it. But Henry, this year, 
carried his authority much further. He published an edict for 
a general tax upon his subjects, which he still called a loan ; 
and he levied five shillings in the pound upon the clergy, two 
shillings upon the laity. This pretended loan, as being more 

* Herbert. Stow©, p. 514. 



A.J>. ib2'6.\ henry vin. 141 

regular, was really more dangerous to the liberties of the 
people, and was a precedent for the king's imposing taxes 
without consent of parliament. 

Henry soon after summoned a parliament, together with a 
convocation ; and found neither of them in a disposition tc 
complain of the infringement of their privileges. It was only 
doubted how far they would carry their liberality to the king. 
Wolsey, who had undertaken the management of the affair, 
began with the convocation, in hopes that their example 
would influence the parliament to grant a large supply. He 
demanded a moiety of the ecclesiastical revenues to be levied 
in five years, or two shillings in the pound during that time ; 
and though he met with opposition, he reprimanded the refrac- 
tory members in such severe terms, that his request was at last 
complied with. The cardinal afterwards, attended by several 
of the nobility and prelates, came to the house of commons ; 
and in a long and elaborate speech laid before them the public 
necessities, the danger of an invasion from Scotland, the 
affronts received from France, the league in which the king 
was engaged with the pope and the emperor ; and he de- 
manded a grant of eight hundred thousand pounds, divided into 
four yearly payments ; a sum computed, from the late survey 
or valuation, to be equal to four shillings in the pound of one 
year's revenue, or one shilling in the pound yearly, according 
to the division proposed.* So large a grant was unusual from 
the commons ; and though the cardinal's demand was seconded 
by Sir Thomas More the speaker, and several other members 
attached to the court, the house could not be prevailed with to 
comply. t They only voted two shillings in the pound on all 
who enjoyed twenty pounds a year and upwards ; one shilling 
on all who possessed between twenty pounds and forty shil- 
lings a year ; and on the other subjects above sixteen years of 
age, a groat a head. This last sum was divided into two yearly- 
payments ; the former into four, and was not therefore at the 
itmost above sixpence in the pound. TJre grant of the com- 
mons was but the moiety of the sum demanded ; and the car- 
dinal, therefore, much mortified with the disappointment, came 
again to the house, and desired to reason with such as refused 
to comply with the king's request. He was told that it was a 

* This survey or valuation is liable to much suspicion, as fixing 
the rents a great deal too high; unless the sum comprehend the rev 
enues of all kinds, industry as well as land and money. 

t Herbert. Sfowe. p. 518, Pari. HiM. Strype, vol. i. p. 49, 50. 



142 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A. D. 1523 

rule of the house never to reason but among themselves ; and 
his desire was rejected. The commons, however, enlarged a 
little their former grant, and voted an imposition of three shib 
lings in the pound on all possessed of fifty pounds a year and 
upwards.* The proceedings of this house of commons evi- 
dently discover the humor of the times : they were extremely 
tenacious of their money, and refused a demand of the crown 
which was far from being unreasonable ; but they allowed an 
encroachment on national privileges to pass uncensured, though 
its direct tendency was to subvert entirely the liberties of the 
people. The king was so dissatisfied with this saving disposi- 
tion of the commons, that, as he had not called a parliament 
during seven years before, he allowed seven more to elapse 
before he summoned another. And on pretence of necessity, 
he levied in one year, from all who were worth forty pounds, 
what the parliament had granted him payable in four years ; f 
a new invasion of national privileges. These irregularities 
were commonly ascribed to the cardinal's counsels, who, 
trusting to the protection afforded him by his ecclesiastical 
character, was the less scrupulous in his encroachment on the 
civil rights of the nation. 

That ambitious prelate received this year a new disappoint- 
ment in his aspiring views. The pope, Adrian VI., died ; and 
Clement VII., of the family of Medicis, was elected in his 
place by the concurrence of the imperial party. Wolsey 
could now perceive the insincerity of the emperor, and he 
concluded that that prince would never second his pretensions 
to the papal chair. As he highly resented this injury, he 
began thenceforth to estrange himself from the imperial court, 
and to pave the way for a union between his master and the 
French king. Meanwhile he concealed his disgust ; and after 
congratulating the new pope on his promotion, applied for a 
continuation of the legatine powers which the two former 
popes had conferred upon him. Clement, knowing the im- 
portance of gaining his friendship, granted him a commis- 
sion for life ; and, by this unusual concession, he in a 
manner transferred to him the whole papal authority in Eng- 
land. In some particulars Wolsey made a good use of this 
extensive power. He erected two colleges, one at Oxfoid, 
mother at Ipswich, the place of his nativity : he sought all 

* See note E, at the end of the volume. 
t Speed. Hall. Herbert. 



A. D, 1523.] henry vm. 143 

over Europe for learned men to supply the chairs of these 
colleges ; and in order to bestow endowments on them, he 
suppressed some smaller monasteries, and distributed the 
monks into other convents. The execution of this project 
became the less difficult for him, because the Romish church 
began to perceive, that she overabounded in monks, and 
that she wanted some supply of learning, in order to oppose 
the inquisitive, or rather disputative humor of the reformers. 

The confederacy against France seemed more formidable 
than ever, on the opening of the campaign.* Adrian before 
his death had renewed the league with Charles and Henry. 
The Venetians had been induced to desert the French alli- 
ance, and to form engagements for securing Francis Sforza, 
brother to Maximilian, in possession of the Milanese. The 
Florentines, the dukes of Ferrara and Mantua, and all the 
powers of Italy, combined in the same measure. The em- 
peror in person menaced France with a powerful invasion 
on the side of Guienne ; the forces of England and the 
Netherlands hovered over Picardy : a numerous body of 
Germans were preparing to ravage Burgundy : but all these 
perils from foreign enemies were less threatening than a 
domestic conspiracy, which had been formed, and which was 
now come to full maturity, against the French monarch. 

Charles, duke of Bourbon, constable of France, was a 
prince of the most shining merit ; and, besides distinguishing 
himself in many military enterprises, he was adorned with 
every accomplishment which became a person of his high 
station His virtues, embellished Avith the graces of youth, 
had made such impressions on Louise of Savoy, Francis's 
mother, that, without regard to the inequality of their years, 
she made him proposals of marriage, and meeting with a 
repulse, she formed schemes of unrelenting vengeance against 
him. She was a woman false, deceitful, vindictive, malicious ; 
but, unhappily for France, had, by her capacity, which was 
considerable, acquired an absolute ascendant over her son. 
By her instigation, Francis put many affronts on the constable, 
which it was difficult for a gallant spirit to endure ; and at 
last he permitted Louise to prosecute a lawsuit against him, 
by which, on the most frivolous pretences, he was deprived 
of his ample possessions ; and inevitable ruin was brought 
upon him. 



* Gaicciard. b'j. xiv. 



L44 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1523 

Bourbon, provoked at all these indignities, and thinking 
*hat, if any injuries could justify a man in rebelling against 
nis prince and country, he must stand acquitted, had entered 
into a secret correspondence with the emperor and the king 
of England.* Francis, pertinacious in his purpose of recov- 
ering the Milanese, had intended to lead his army in person 
into Italy ; and Bourbon, who feigned sickness in order to 
have a pretence for staying behind, purposed, as soon as the 
king should have passed the Alps, to raise an insurrection 
among his numerous vassals, by whom he was extremely 
beloved, and to introduce foreign enemies into the heart of 
the kingdom. Francis got intimation of his design ; but as 
he was not expeditious enough in securing so dangerous a 
foe, the constable made his escape ; f and entering into the 
emperor's service, employed all the force of his enterprising 
spirit, and his great talents for war, to the prejudice of his 
native country. 

The king of England, desirous that Francis should under- 
take his Italian expedition, did not openly threaten Picardy 
this year with an invasion ; and it was late before the duke 
of Suffolk, who commanded the English forces, passed over 
to Calais. He was attended by the lords Montacute, Herbert, 
Ferrars, Morney, Sandys, Berkeley, Powis, and many other 
noblemen and gentlemen. $ The English army, reenforced 
by some troops drawn from the garrison of Calais, amounted 
to about twelve thousand men ; and having joined an equal 
number of Flemings under the count de Buren, they pre- 
pared for an invasion of France. The siege of Boulogne 
was first proposed ; but that enterprise appearing difficult, it 
was thought more advisable to leave this town behind them. 
The frontier of Picardy was very ill provided with troops ; 
and the only defence of that province was the activity of the 
French officers, who infested the allied army in their march, 
and threw garrisons, with great expedition, into every town 
which was threatened by them. After coasting the Somme, 
and passing Hedin, Montreuil, Dourlens, the English and 
Flemings presented themselves before Bray, a place of small 
force, which commanded a bridge over that river. Here they 
were resolved to pass, and, if possible, to take up winter 
quarters in France ; but Crequi threw himself into the town, 

* Memoires du Bellai, liv. ii. 

t Belcarius, lij. xvii. t Herbert. 



A.D. 1523.] HENRY VI11. 148 

and seemed resolute to defend it. The allies attached him 
with vigor and success ; and when he retreated over the 
bridge, they pursued him so hotly, that they allowed him not 
time to hreak it down, but passed it along with him, and 
totally routed his army. They next advanced to Montdidier, 
which they besieged, and took by capitulation. Meeting with 
no opposition, they proceeded to the River Oise, within eleven 
leagues of Paris, and threw that city into great consternation ; 
till the duke of Vendome hastened with some forces to its 
relief. The confederates, afraid of being surrounded, and of 
being reduced to extremities during so advanced a season, 
thought proper to retreat. Montdidier was abandoned ; and 
the English and Flemings, without effecting any thing, retired 
into their respective countries. 

France defended herself from the other invasions with equal 
facility and equal good fortune. Twelve thousand lansque- 
nets broke into Burgundy under the command of the count 
of Furstenberg. The count of Guise, who defended that 
frontier, had nothing to oppose to them but some militia, and 
about nine hundred heavy-armed cavalry. He threw the 
militia into the garrison towns ; and with his cavalry he kept 
the field, and so harassed the Germans, that they were glad 
to make their retreat into Lorraine. Guise attacked them as 
they passed the Meuse, put them into disorder, and cut ofFthe 
greater part of their rear. 

The emperor made great preparations on the side of 
Navarre ; and though that frontier was well guarded by 
nature, it seemed now exposed to danger from the powerful 
invasion which threatened it. Charles besieged Fontarabia, 
which a few years before had fallen into Francis's hands ; 
and when he had drawn thither Lautrec, the French general, 
he of a sudden raised the siege, and sat down before Bayonne 
Lautrec, aware of that stratagem, made a sudden march, and 
threw himself into Bayonne, which he defended with such 
vigor and courage, that the Spaniards were constrained to 
raise the siege. The emperor would have been totally un- 
fortunate on this side, had he not turned back upon Fontara- 
bia, and, contrary to the advice of all his generals, sitten 
down in the winter season before that city, well fortified and 
strongly garrisoned. The cowardice or misconduct of the 
governor saved him from the shame of a new disappointment 
The place was surrendered in a few days ; and the emperor 
vol. m. — G 



Lib HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1524, 

having finished this enterprise, put his troops into wintei 
quarters. 

So obstinate was Francis in prosecuting his Italian expedi- 
tion, that, notwithstanding these numerous invasions with 
which his kingdom was menaced on every side, he had 
determined to lead in person a powerful army to the conquest 
of Milan. The intelligence of Bourbon's conspiracy and es- 
cape stopped him at Lyons ; and fearing some insurrection 
in the kingdom from the intrigues of a man so powerful and 
bo much beloved, he thought it prudent to remain in France : 
and to send forward his army under tho command of Admiral 
Bonnivet. The duchy of Milan had been purposely left in 
a condition somewhat defenceless, with a view of alluring 
Francis to attack it, and thereby facilitating the enterprises of 
Bourbon ; and no sooner had Bonnivet passed the Tesin, than 
the army of the league, and even Prosper Colonna, who com- 
manded it. a prudent general, were in the utmost confusion. 
It is agreed, that if Bonnivet had immediately advanced to 
Milan, that great city, on which the whole duchy depends, 
would have opened its gates without resistance : but as he 
wasted his time in frivolous enterprises, Colonna had oppor- 
tunity to reenforce the garrison, and to put the place in a 
posture of defence. Bonnivet was now obliged to attempt 
reducing the city by blockade and famine ; and he took pos- 
session of all the posts which commanded the passages to it. 
But the army of the league, meanwhile, was not inactive ; 
and they so straitened and harassed the quarters of the French, 
that it seemed more likely the latter should themselves perish 
by famine, than reduce the city to that extremity. [1524.] 
Sickness, and fatigue, and want had wasted them to such a 
degree, that they were ready to raise the blockade ; and their 
only hopes consisted in a great body of Swiss, which was 
levied for the service of the French king, and whose arrival 
was every day expected. But these mountaineers no sooner 
came within sight of the French camp, than they stopped, 
from a sudden caprice and resentment ; and instead of joining 
Bonnivet, they sent orders to a great body of their country- 
men, who then served under him, immediately to begin their 
march, and to return home in their company.* After this 
desertion of the Swiss, Bonnivet had no other choice but that 
of making his retreat as fast as possible into France. 

* Guiociard lib. xr. Memoires de Bellai, liv. ii. 



A D. i524.j henr\ vm. 14*7 

The French being thus expelled Italy, the pope, the Vene* 
tians, the Florentines, were satisfied with the advantage ob- 
tained over them, and were resolved to prosecute their victory 
no further. All these powers, especially Clement, had enter- 
tained a violent jealousy of the emperor's ambition ; and their 
suspicions were extremely augmented when they saw him 
refuse the investiture of Milan, a fief of the empire, to Francis 
Slbrza, whose title he had acknowledged, and whose defence 
he had embraced.* They all concluded, that he intended to 
put himself in possession of that important duchy, and reduce 
Italy to subjection : Clement in particular, actuated by this 
jealousy, proceeded so far in opposition to the emperor, that he 
sent orders to his nuncio at London to mediate a reconciliation 
between France and England. But affairs were not yet fully 
ripe for this change. Wolsey, disgusted with the emperor, but 
still more actuated by vain-glory, was determined that he him- 
self should have the renown of bringing about that great altera- 
tion ; and he engaged the king to reject the pope's mediation. 
A new treaty was even concluded between Henry and Charles 
for the invasion of France. Charles stipulated to supply the 
duke of Bourbon with a powerful army, in order to conquer 
Provence and Dauphiny : Henry agreed to pay him a hundred 
thousand crowns ibr the first mouth ; after which he might 
either choose to continue the same monthly payments, or in- 
vade Picardy with a powerful army. Bourbon was to possess 
these provinces with the title of king ; but to hold them in fee 
of Henry as king of France. The duchy of Burgundy was 
to be given to Charles ; the rest of the kingdom to Henry. 

This chimerical partition immediately failed of execution 
in the article which was most easily performed : Bourbon re- 
fused to acknowledge Henry as king of France. His enter- 
prise, however, against Provence still took place. A numerous 
army of imperialists invaded that country, under his command 
and that of the marquis of Pescara. They laid siege to Mar- 
seilles, which, being weakly garrisoned, they expected to re- 
duce in a little time ; but the citizens defended themselves 
with such valor and obstinacy, that Bourbon and Pescara, who 
heard of the French king's approach with a numerous army, 
found themselves under a necessity of raising the siege ; anq 
they led their forces, weakened, baffled, and disheartened, inte * 
Italy. 

* Guicciard. lib xv. 



148 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1525 

Francis might now have enjoyed in safety the glory of 
repulsing all his enemies, ;n every attempt which they had 
hitherto made for invading his kingdom ; but as he received 
intelligence that the king of England, discouraged by his for- 
mer fruitless enterprises, and disgusted with the emperor, was 
making no preparations for any attempt on Picardy, his ancient 
ardor seized him for the conquest of Milan; and notwithstand- 
ing the advanced season, he was immediately determined, con- 
trary to the advice of his wisest counsellors, to lead his army 
into Italy. 

He passed the Alps at Mount Cenis, and no sooner ap- 
peared in Piedmont than he threw the whole Milanese into 
consternation. The forces of the emperor and Sforza retired 
to Lodi ; and had Francis been so fortunate as to pursue them, 
they had abandoned that place, and had been totally dis- 
persed ; * but his ill fate led him to besiege Pavia, a town of 
considerable strength, well garrisoned, and defended by Leyva, 
one of the bravest officers in the Spanish oervice. Every 
attempt which the French king made to gain this important 
place proved fruitless. He battered the walls and made 
breaches ; but, by the vigilance of Leyva, new retrenchments 
were instantly thrown up behind the breaches : he attempted 
to divert the course of the Tesin, which ran by one side of the 
city and defended it ; but an inundation of the river destroyed 
in one night all the mounds which the soldiers during a long 
time, and with infinite labor, had been erecting. [1525.] Fa- 
*4gue and the bad season (for it was the depth of winter) had 
wasted the French army. The imperial generals meanwhile 
were not inactive. Pescara, and Lannoy, viceroy of Naples, 
assembled forces from all quarters. Bourbon, having pawned 
his jewels, went into Germany, and with the money, aided by 
Ins personal interest, levied a body of twelve thousand lans- 
quenets, with which he joined the imperialists. This whole 
urmy advanced to raise the siege of Pavia; and the danger to 
the French became every day more imminent. 

The state of Europe was such during that age, that, partly 
from the want of commerce and industry every where, except 
in Italy and the Low Countries, partly from the extensive 
privileges still possessed by the people in all the great mon- 
archies, and their frugal maxims in granting money, the rev- 
enues of the princes were extremely narrow, and even th? 



* Guicciurd. lib. xv. Du Bellai, lib. ii. 



A D. 1525.J henry vm. 142 

small armies which they kept on fc.'jt could not be regularly 
paid by them. The imperial forces, commanded by Bourbon, 
Pescara, and Lannoy, exceeded not twenty thousand men ; 
they were the only body of troops maintained by the emperor, 
(for he had not been able to levy any army for the invasion 
of France, either on the side of Spain or Flanders.) Yet so 
poor was that mighty monarch, that he could transmit no 
money for the payment of this army ; and it was chiefly the 
hopes of sharing the plunder of the French camp which had 
made them advance and kept them to their standards. Had 
Francis raised the siege before their approach, and retired to 
Milan, they must immediately have disbanded ; and he had 
obtained a complete victory without danger or bloodshed. But 
it was the character of this monarch to become obstinate in 
proportion to the difficulties which he encountered ; and hav- 
ing once said, that he w r ould take Pavia or perish before it, 
he was resolved rather to endure the utmost extremities than 
depart from this resolution. 

The imperial generals, after cannonading the French camp 
for several days, at last made a general assault, and broke 
into the intrenchments. Leyva sallied from the town, and 
increased the confusion among the besiegers. The Swiss 
infantry, contrary to their usual practice, behaved in a das- 
tardly manner, and deserted tl«ir post. Francis's forces were 
put to rout ; and he himself, surrounded by his enemies, after 
lighting with heroic valor, and killing seven men with his own 
hand, was at last obliged to surrender himself prisoner. Al- 
most the whole army, full of nobility and brave officers, either 
perished by the sword or were drowned in the river. The 
lew who escaped with their lives fell into the hands of the 
enemy. 

The emperor received this news by Penualosa, who passed 
through France by means of a safe conduct granted him by 
the captive king. The moderation which he displayed on this 
occasion, had it been sincere, would have done him honor. 
Instead of rejoicing, he expressed sympathy with Francis's ill 
fortune, and discovered his sense of those calamities to which 
the greatest monarchs are exposed.* He refused the city of 
Madrid permission to make any public expressions of triumph ; 
and said that he leserved all his exultation till he should be 
able to obtain some victory over the infidels. He sent orders 



* Vora. His: <lc Cnrl V 



150 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. l5Mu 

to his frontier garrisons to commit no hostilities upon France 
He spoke of concluding immediately a peace on reasonable 
terms. But all this seeming moderation was only hypocrisy, 
50 much the more dangerous as it was profound. And he was 
wholly occupied in forming schemes how, from this great 
incident, he might draw the utmost advantage, and gratify 
that exorbitant ambition by which, in all his actions, he was 
ever governed. 

The same Pennalosa, in passing through France, carried 
also a letter from Francis to his mother, whom he had left, 
regent, and who then resided at Lyons. It contained only 
these lew words: "Madam, all is lost, except our honor." 
The princess was struck with the greatness of the calamity, 
She saw the kingdom without a sovereign, without an army, 
without generals, without money ; surrounded on every side 
by implacable and victorious enemies ; and her chief resource, 
in her present distresses, were the hopes which she entertained 
of peace and even of assistance from the king of England. 

Had the king entered into the war against France from any 
concerted political views, it is evident that the victory of Pavia 
and the captivity of Francis were the most fortunate incidents 
that could have befallen him, and the only ones that could 
render his schemes effectual. While the war was carried on 
in the former feeble manner, without any decisive advantage, 
he might have been able to possess himself of some frontier 
town, or perhaps of a small territory, of which he could not 
have kept possession without expending much more than its 
value. By some signal calamity alone, which annihilated the 
power of France, could he hope to acquire the dominion of 
considerable provinces, or dismember that great monarchy, so 
affectionate to its own government and its own sovereigns. 
But as it is probable that Henry had never before carried his 
reflections so far, he was startled at this important event, and 
became sensible of his own danger, as well as that of all 
Europe, from the loss of a proper counterpoise to the power 
of Charles. Instead of taking advantage, therefore, of the 
distressed condition of Francis, he was determined to lend 
him assistance in his present calamities ; and as the glory of 
generosity in raising a fallen enemy concurred with his politi- 
cal interests, he hesitated the less in embracing these new 
measures. 

Some disgusts also had previously taken place between 
Chailes and Henry, and still more between Charles and Wo! 



A.D. 1525.J henry vin. 151 

tey ; and that powerful minister waited only for a favorable 
opportunity of revenging- the disappointments which he had 
met with. The behavior of Charles, immediately after the 
victory of Pavia, gave him occasion to revive the king's jeal- 
ousy and suspicions. The emperor so ill supported the ap- 
pearance of moderation which he at first assumed, that he had 
already changed his usual style to Henry ; and instead of 
writing to him with his own hand, and subscribing himself 
" Your affectionate son and cousin," he dictated his letters 
to a secretary, and simply subscribed himself " Charles." * 
Wolsey also perceived a diminution in the caresses and pro- 
fessions with which the emperor's letters to him were formerly 
loaded ; and this last imprudence, proceeding from the intox- 
ication of success, was probably more dangerous to Charles's 
interests than the other. 

Henry, though immediately determined to embrace new 
measures, was careful to save appearances in the change ; 
and he caused rejoicings to be every where made on account 
of the victory of Pavia and the captivity of Francis. He 
publicly dismissed a French envoy, whom he had formerly 
allowed, notwithstanding the war, to reside at London ; t but 
upon the regent of France's submissive applications to him, 
he again opened a correspondence with her ; and besides 
assuring her of his friendship and protection, he exacted a 
promise that she never would consent to the dismembering of 
any province from the monarchy for her son's ransom. With 
the emperor, however, he put on the appearance of vigor and 
enterprise ; and in order to have a pretence for breaking with 
him, he despatched Tonstal, bishop of London, to Madrid, 
with proposals for a powerful invasion of France. He required 
that Charles should immediately enter Guienne at the head of 
a great army, in order to put him iu possession of that prov- 
ince ; and he demanded the payment of large sums of money 
which that prince had borrowed from him in his last visit at 
London. He knew that the emperor was in no condition of 
fulfilling either of these demands ; and that he had as little 
inclination to make him master of such considerable territories 
upon the frontiers of Spain. 

Tonstal, likewise, after his arrival at Madrid, informed his 
master that Charles, on his part, urged several complaints 



* Guicciartl. lib. xvi. 

t Du Bellai, liv. iii. Stowe, p. 221. Baker, p 273. 



152 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1525. 

against England ; and in particular was displeased with 
Henry, because last year he had neither continued his monthly 
payments to Bourbon nor invaded Picavdy, according to hia 
stipulations. Tonstal added, that instead of expressing an 
intention to espouse Mary when she should be of age, the 
emperor had hearkened to proposals for marrying his niece 
Isabella, princess of Portugal ; and that he had entered into a 
separate treaty with Francis, and seemed determined to reap 
alone all the advantages of the success with which fortune 
had crowned his arms. 

The king, influenced by all these motives, concluded at 
Moore his alliance with the regent of France, and engaged to 
procure her son his liberty on reasonable conditions : * the 
regent also, in another treaty, acknowledged the kingdom 
Henry's debtor for one million eight hundred thousand crowns, 
to be discharged in half-yearly payments of fifty thousand 
crowns ; after which Henry was to receive, during life, a 
yearly pension of a hundred thousand. A large present of a 
hundred thousand crowns was also made to Wolsey for his 
good offices, but covered under the pretence of arrears due on 
the pension granted him for relinquishing the administration 
of Tournay. 

Meanwhile Henry, foreseeing that this treaty with France 
might involve him in a war with the emperor, was also deter- 
mined to fill his treasury by impositions upon his own subjects ; 
and as the parliament had discovered some reluctance in com- 
plying with his demands, he followed, as is believed, the coun- 
sel of Wolsey, and resolved to make use of his prerogative 
alone for that purpose. He issued commissions to all the 
counties of England, for levying four shillings in the pound 
upon the clergy, three shillings and fourpence upon the laity ; 
and so uncontrollable did he deem his authority, that he took 
no care to cover, as formerly, this arbitrary exaction, even 
under the slender pretence of a loan. But he soon found that 
he had presumed too far on the passive submission of his sub- 
jects. The people, displeased with an exaction beyond what 
was usually levied in those days, and further disgusted with 
the illegal method of imposing it, broke out in murmurs, com- 
plaints, opposition to the commissioners ; and their refractory 
disposition threatened a general insurrection. Henry had th«* 
prudence to stop short in that dangerous path into which he 

* Du Tillct. Recueil <:es Traites de Leonard, torn. ii. Herbert 



A D 1525.] HENRY VIII. 103 

nad entered. He sent letters to all the counties, declaring 
that he meant no force by this last imposition, and that he 
would take nothing from his subjects but by way of " benev- 
olence." He flattered himself, that his condescension in em- 
ploying that disguise would satisfy the people, and that no one 
would dare to render himself obnoxious to royal authority, by 
refusing any payment required of him in this manner. Bui 
the spirit of opposition, once roused, could not so easily be 
quieted at pleasure. A lawyer in the city objecting the stat- 
ute of Richard III., by which benevolences were ibrever abol- 
ished, it was replied by the court, that Richard being a 
usurper, and his parliament a factious assembly, his statute? 
could not bind a lawful and absolute monarch, who held his 
crown by hereditary right, and needed not to court the favor 
of a licentious populace.* The judges even went so far as- 
to affirm positively, that the king might exact by commission 
any sum he pleased ; and the privy council gave a ready 
assent to this decree, which annihilated the most valuable 
privilege of the people, and rendered all their other privileges 
precarious. Armed with such formidable authority of royal 
prerogative and a pretence of law, Wolsey sent for the mayor 
of London, and desired to know what he was willing to give 
for the supply of his majesty's necessities. The mayor 
seemed desirous, before he should declare himself, to consult 
the common council ; but the cardinal required that he and 
all the aldermen should separately confer with himself about 
the benevolence ; and he eluded by that means the danger of 
a formed opposition. Matters, however, went not so smoothly 
in the country. An insurrection was begun in some places ; 
but as the people were not headed by any considerable person, 
it was easy for the duke of Suffolk, and the earl of Surrey, 
now duke of Norfolk, by employing persuasion and authority, 
to induce the ringleaders to lay down their arms and surren- 
der themselves prisoners. The king, finding it dangerous to 
punish criminals engaged in so popular a cause, was deter 
mined, notwithstanding his violent, imperious temper, to grant 
them a general pardon ; and he prudently imputed theii 
guilt, not to their want of loyalty or affection, but to their 
poverty. The offenders were carried before the star cham 
ber ; where, after a severe charge brought against them by 
the king's council, the cardinal said, "that notwithstanding 

* Herbert. Hall. 



154 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. 1). 1525 

their grievous offence, the king, in consideration of their 
necessities, had granted them his gracious pardon, upon con- 
dition that they would find sureties for their future good 
behavior." But they, replying that they had no sureties, 
the cardinal first, and after him the duke of Norfolk, said 
that they would be bound for them. Upon which they were 
dismissed.* 

These arbitrary impositions being imputed, though on what 
grounds is unknown, to the counsels of the cardinal, increased 
the general odium under which he labored : and the clemency 
of the pardon, being ascribed to the kinjr, was considered as 
an atonement on his part for the illegality of the measure. 
But Wolsey, supported both by royal and papal authority, 
proceeded without scruple to violate all ecclesiastical privi- 
leges, which, during that age, were much more sacred than 
civil ; and having once prevailed in that unusual attempt of 
suppressing some monasteries, he kept all the rest in awe, and 
exercised over them an arbitrary jurisdiction. By his com- 
mission as legate lie was empowered to visit them, and reform 
them, and chastise their irregularities ; and he employed his 
usual agent, Allen, in the exercise of this authority. Tho 
religious houses were obliged to compound ibr their guilt, real 
or pretended, by paying large sums to the cardinal or his 
deputy ; and this oppression was carried so far, that it reached 
at last the king's ears, which were not commonly open to 
complaints against his favorite. Wolsey had built a splendid 
palace at Hampton Court, which he probably intended, as well 
as that of York Place, in Westminster, for his own residence; 
but fearing the increase of envy on account of this magnifi- 
cence, and desirous to appease the king, he made him a pres- 
ent of the building, and told him that, from the first, he had 
erected it for his use. 

The absolute authority possessed by the king rendered his 
domestic government, both over his people and his ministers, 
easy and expeditious : the conduct of foreign affairs alone 
required effort and application ; and they were now brought 
to such a situation, that it was no longer safe for England to 
remain entirely neutral. The feigned moderation of the em- 
peror was of short duration ; and it was soon obvious to all 
iht world, that his great dominions, far from gratifying his 
ambition, were only regarded as the means of acquiring an 

* Heiheit. Hall Stowe, p. U5. Ho]in<rslied, P- 891. 



A D 1526.] HENRY VIII. 16A 

empire more extensive. The terms which he demanded of 
his prisoner were such as must forever have annihilated 
the power of France, and destroyed the balance of Europe. 
These terms were proposed to Francis soon after the battle 
of Pavia, while he was detained in Pizzichitone ; and as 
he had hitherto trusted somewhat to the emperor's gener- 
osity, the disappointment excited in his breast the most 
lively indignation. He said, that he would rather live and 
die a prisoner than agree to dismember his kingdom ; and 
that even were he so base as to submit to such conditions, 
his subjects would never permit him to carry them into 
execution. 

Francis was encouraged to persist in demanding more- 
moderate terms by the favorable accounts which he heard 
of Henry's disposition towards him, and of the alarm which 
had seized all the chief powers in Italy upon his defeat and 
captivity. He was uneasy, however, to be so far distant from 
the emperor, with whom he must treat ; and he expressed his 
desire (which was complied with) to be removed to Madrid, 
in hopes that a personal interview would operate in his favor, 
and that Charles, if not influenced by his ministers, might be 
found possessed of the same frankness of disposition by which 
he himself was distinguished. He was soon convinced of his 
mistake. Partly from want of exercise, partly from reflec- 
tions on his present melancholy situation, he fell into a lan- 
guishing illness; which begat apprehensions in Charles, lest 
the death of his captive should bereave him of all those ad- 
vantages which he purposed to extort from him. He then 
paid him a visit in the castle of Madrid ; and as he approached 
the bed in which Francis lay, the sick monarch called to him, 
"You come, sir, to visit your prisoner." "No," replied the 
«?mperor, "I come to visit my brother and my friend, who 
shall soon obtain his liberty." He soothed his afflictions with 
many speeches of a like nature, which had so good an effect, 
that the king daily recovered ; * and thenceforth employed 
himself in concerting with the ministers of the emperor the 
terms of his treaty. 

[1526.] At last, the emperor, dreading a general combina- 
tion against him, was willing to abate somewhat of his rigor ; 
and the treaty of Madrid was signed, by which, it was hopeA, 



* Herbert. De Vera. Sandoval. 



1&S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. JA.D. 1526 

an end would be finally put to the differences between thes« 
great monarchs. The principal condition was the restoring 
of Francis's liberty, and the delivery of his two eldest sons 
as hostages to the emperor for the cession of Burgundy. If 
\any difficulty should afterwards occur in the execution of this 
last article, from the opposition of the states either of France 
or of that province, Francis stipulated, that in six weeks' time, 
he should return to his prison, and remain there till the full 
performance of the treaty. There were many other articles 
in this famous convention, all of thern extremely severe upon 
the captive monarch ; and Charles discovered evidently his 
intention of reducing Italy, as well as France, to subjection 
and dependence. 

Many of Charles's ministers foresaw that Francis, how 
solemn soever the oaths, promises, and protestations exacted 
of him, never would execute a treaty so disadvantageous, or 
rather ruinous and destructive, to himself, his posterity, and 
his country. By putting Burgundy, they thought, into the 
emperor's hands, he gave his powerful enemy an entrance 
into the heart of the kingdom : by sacrificing his allies in 
Italy, he deprived himself of foreign assistance; and, arming 
his oppressor with the whole force and wealth of that opulent 
country, rendered him absolutely irresistible. To these great 
views of interest were added the motives, no less cogent, of 
passion and resentment ; while Francis, a prince who piqued 
himself on generosity, reflected, on the rigor with which he 
had been treated during his captivity, and the severe terms 
which had been exacted of him for the recovery of his liberty. 
It was also foreseen, that the emulation and rivalship, which 
had so long subsisted between these two monarchs, would 
make him feel the strongest reluctance on yielding the superi- 
ority to an antagonist who, by the whole tenor of his conduct, 
he would be apt to think, had shown himself so little worthy 
of that advantage which fortune, and fortune alone, had put 
into his hands. His ministers, his friends, his subjects, his 
allies, would be sure with one voice to inculcate on him, that 
the first object of a prince was the preservation of his people ; 
and that the laws of honor, which, with a private mtui, ought 
to be absolutely supreme, and superior to all interests, were, 
with a sovereign, subordinate to the great duty of insuring the 
safety of his country. Nor could it be imagined that Francis 
would be so romantic in his principles, as not to hearften to a 
casuistry which was so plausible in itself, and which so much 



AD. 1526. j henry vm. 15? 

flattered all the passions by which, either as a prince or a man 
he was strongly actuated. 

Francis, on entering his own dominions, delivered his twu 
eldest sons as hostages into the hands of the Spaniards. He 
mounted a Turkish horse, and immediately putting him to 
the gallop, he waved his hand, and cried aloud several times, 
" I am yet a king." He soon reached Bayonne, where ha 
was joyfully received by the regent and his whole court. He 
immediately wrote to Henry ; acknowledging that to his good 
offices alone he owed his liberty, and protesting that he should 
be entirely governed by his counsels in all transactions with 
the emperor. When the Spanish envoy demanded his ratifi- 
cation of the treaty of Madrid, now that he had fully recovered 
his liberty, he declined the proposal ; under color that it was 
previously necessary to assemble the states both of France and 
of Burgundy, and to obtain their consent. The states of 
Burgundy soon met ; and declaring against the clause which 
contained an engagement for alienating their province, they 
expressed their resolution of opposing, even by force of arms, 
the execution of so ruinous and unjust an article. The 
imperial minister then required that Francis, in conformity 
to the treaty of Madrid, should now return to his prison ; but 
the French monarch, instead of complying, made public the 
treaty which a little before he had secretly concluded at Cog- 
nac, against the ambitious schemes and usurpations of the em- 
peror.* 

The pope, the Venetians, and other Italian states, whc 
were deeply interested in these events, had been held in the 
most anxious suspense with regard to the resolutions which 
Francis should take after the recovery of his liberty ; and 
Clement, in particular, who suspected that this prince would 
never execute a treaty so hurtful to his interests, and even 
destructive of his independency, had very frankly offered him 
a dispensation from all his oaths and engagements. Francis 
remained not in suspense ; but entered immediately into the 
confederacy proposed to him. It was stipulated by that king, 
the pope, the Venetians, the Swiss, the Florentines, and the 
duko of Milan, among other articles, that they would oblige 
the emperor to deliver up the two young princes of France 
nn receiving a reasonable sum of money ; and to restore 
Milan to Sfbrza, without further condition or encumbrance 

* Gnicciard. lib. xvii. 



158 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1527 

The king of England was invited to accede : not only as 
a contracting party, but as protector of the " holy league," 
— so it was called ; and if Naples should be conquered 
from the emperor, in prosecution of this confederacy, it was 
agreed that Henry should enjoy a principality in that king- 
dom of the yearly revenue of thirty thousand ducats ; and 
that cardinal Wolsey, in consideration of the services which 
he had rendered to Christendom, should also, in such an 
event, be put in posession of a revenue of ten thousand 
ducats. 

Francis was desirous that the appearance of this great 
confederacy should engage the emperor to relax somewhat in 
the extreme rigor of the treaty of Madrid ; and while he en- 
tertained these hopes, he was the more remiss in his warlike 
preparations ; nor did he send in due time reinforcements to 
his allies in Italy. [1527.] The duke of Bourbon had got 
possession of the whole Milanese, of which the emperor in- 
tended to grant him the investiture ; and having levied a 
considerable army in Germany, he became formidable to all 
the Italian potentates ; and not the less so because Charles, 
destitute, as usual, of money, had not been able to remit any 
pay to the forces. The general was extremely beloved by his 
troops ; and in order to prevent those mutinies which were 
ready to break out every moment, and which their affection 
alone for him had hitherto restrained, he led them to Rome, 
and promised to enrich them by the plunder of that opulent 
city. He was himself killed, as he was planting a scaling 
.adder against the walls ; but his soldiers, rather enraged than 
discouraged by his death, mounted to the assault with the 
utmost valor, and entering the city sword in hand, exercised 
all those brutalities which may be expected from ferocity 
excited by resistance, and from insolence which takes place 
when that resistance is no more. This renowned city, ex- 
posed by her renown alone to so many calamities, never en- 
dured, in any age, even from the barbarians by whom she 
was often subued, such indignities as she was now compelled 
to sutler. The unrestrained massacre and pillage, which con- 
tinued for several days, were the least ills to which the un- 
happy Romans were exposed.* Whatever was respectable in 
modesty or sacred in religion, seemed but the more to provoke 
the insults of the soldiery. Virgins suffered violation in the 

* Ruiociard. lib. xviii. Bellai. Stowe, p. f>2 rj . 



A..D 1^27.] henry vm. 155 

arms of their parents, and upon those very altars to which 
they had fled ibr protection. Aged prelates, after enduring 
every indignity, and even every torture, were thrown into 
dungeons, and menaced with the most cruel death, in order to 
make them reveal their secret treasures, or purchase liberty 
by exorbitant ransoms. Clement himself, who had trusted for 
protection to the sacredness of his character, and neglected to 
make his escape in time, was taken captive ; and found that 
his dignity, which procured him no regard from the Spanish 
soldiers, did but draw on him the insolent mockery of the 
Germau, who, being generally attached to the Lutheran prin- 
ciples, were pleased to gratify their animosity by the abasement 
of the sovereign pontiff. 

When intelligence of this great event was conveyed to the 
emperor, that young prince, habituated to hypocrisy, expressed 
the most profound sorrow for the success of his arms : he put 
himself and all his court in mourning : he stopped the rejoic- 
ings for the birth of his son Philip : and knowing that every 
artifice, however gross, is able, when seconded by authority, 
to impose upon the people, he ordered prayers during several 
months to be put up in the churches ibr the pope's liberty ; 
which all men knew a letter under his hand could in a moment 
have procured. 

The concern expressed by Henry and Francis for the 
calamity of their ally was more sincere. These two mon- 
archs, a few days before the sack of Rome, had concluded a 
treaty* at Westminster, in which, besides renewing former 
alliances, they agreed to send ambassadors to Charles, requir- 
ing him to accept of two millions of crowns as the ransom of 
the French princes, and to repay the money borrowed from 
Henry ; and in case of refusal, the ambassadors, attended by 
heralds, were ordered to denounce war against him. This 
war it was agreed to prosecute in the Low Countries, with 
an army of thirty thousand infantry and fifteen hundred men 
at arms, two thirds to be supplied by Francis, the rest by 
Henry. And in order to strengthen the alliance between the 
princes, it was stipulated, that either Francis, or his son, the 
duke of Orleans, as should afterwards be agreed on, should 
espouse the princess Mary, Henry's daughter. No sooner did 
the monarchs receive intelligence of Bourbon's enterprise, 
thaii they changedj by a new treaty, the scene of the projected 

* 30th April. 



1GU HISTORY OF ENGLAND. \A. D. 1527 

war from the Netherlands to Italy ; and hearing of the pope't. 
captivity, they were further stimulated to undertake the wai 
with vigor for restoring him to liberty. Wolsey himsell 
crossed the sea, in order to have an interview with Francis, 
and to concert measures for that purpose ; and he displayed 
all that grandeur and magnificence Avith which he was so 
much intoxicated. He was attended by a train of a thousand 
horse. The cardinal of Lorraine, and the chancellor Alen- 
con, met him at Boulogne ; Francis himself, besides granting 
to that haughty prelate the power of giving, in every place 
where he came, liberty to all prisoners, made a journey as far 
as Amiens to meet him, and even advanced some miles from 
the town, the more to honor his reception. It was here stipu- 
lated, that the duke of Orleans should espouse the princess 
Mary ; and as the emperor seemed to be taking some steps to- 
wards assembling a general council, the two monarchs agreed 
not to acknowledge it, but, during the interval of the pope's 
captivity, to govern the churches in their respective dominions 
by their own authority. Wolsey made some attempts to get 
his legatine power extended over France, and even over Ger- 
many ; but finding his efforts fruitless, he was obliged, though 
with great reluctance, to desist from these ambitious entei 
prises.* 

The more to cement the union between these princes, a 
new treaty was some time after concluded at London ; in 
which Henry agreed finally to renounce all claims to the 
crown of France ; claims which might now indeed be deemed 
chimerical, but which often served as a pretence for exciting 
the unwary English to wage war upon the French nation. 
As a return for this concession, Francis bound himself and 
his successors to pay forever fifty thousand crowns a year to 
Henry and his successors ; and that greater solemnity might 
be given to this treaty, it was agreed that the parliaments and 
great nobility of both kingdoms should give their assent to it. 
The mareschal Montmorency, accompanied by many persons 
of distinction, and attended by a pompous equipage, was sent 
over to ratify the treaty ; and was received at London with 
all the parade which suited the solemnity of the occasion. 
The terror of the emperor's greatness had extinguished the 
ancient animosity between the nations ; and Spam, duriiiy 

* Burnet, book iii. coll. 12, 13. 



A.D. 1527.] HENRY VIII. 16 

more than a century, became, though a more distant power, 
the chief object of jealousy to the English. 

This cordial union between France and England, though it 
added influence to the joint embassy which they sent to the 
emperor, was not able to bend that monarch to submit entirely 
to the conditions insisted on by the allies. He departed, 
indeed, from his demand of Burgundy as the ransom of the 
French princes ; but he required, previously to their liberty, 
that Francis should evacuate Genoa, and all the fortresses 
held by him in Italy ; and he declared his intention of bring- 
ing Sforza to a trial, and confiscating the duchy of Milan, on 
account of his pretended treason. The English and French 
heralds, therefore, according to agreement, declared war 
against him, and set him at defiance. Charles answered the 
English herald with moderation ; but to the French he re- 
proached his master with breach of faith, reminded him of the 
private conversation which had passed between them at Madrid 
before their separation, and offered to prove by single combat 
that he had acted dishonorably. Francis retaliated this dial 
lenge, by giving Charles the lie ; and, after demanding seen 
rity of the field, he offered to maintain his causae by single 
combat. Many messages passed to and fro between them ; 
but though both princes were undoubtedly brave, the intend- 
ed duel never took place. The French and Spaniards, during 
that age, zealously disputed which of the monarchs iucurred 
the blame of this failure ; but all men of moderation every 
where lamented the power of fortune, that the prince the more 
candid, generous, and sincere, should, by unhappy incidents, 
have been reduced to so cruel a situation, that nothing but his 
violation of treaty could preserve his people, and that he must 
ever after, without being able to make a proper reply, bear to 
be reproached with breach of promise, by a rival inferior to 
him both in honor and virtue. 

But though this famous challenge between Charles and 
Francis had no immediate consequence with regard to these 
monarchs themselves, it produced a considerable alteration 
on the manners of the age. The practice of challenges and 
duels which had been part of the ancient barbarous jurispru- 
dence, which was still preserved on very solemn occasions, 
and which was sometimes countenanced by the civil magis- 
trate, began thenceforth to prevail in the most trivial incidents ; 
and men, on any affront or injury, thought themselves enti 



162 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 162? 

titled, or even required in honor, to take revenge on their ene- 
mies, by openly vindicating their right in single combat. 
These absurd, though generous maxims, shed much of the 
best blood in Christendom, during more than two centuries ; 
and notwithstanding the severity of law and authority of 
reason, such is the prevailing force o ? custom, they are fai 
from being as yet entirely exploded. 



A. D. 1527.1 henry "an. 163 



CHAPTEK XXX. 

HENRY VIII. 

[1527. J Notwithstanding the submissive deference paid 
to papal authority before the reformation, the marriage of 
Henry with Catharine of Arragon, his brother's widow, had 
not passed without much scruple and difficulty. The preju- 
dices of the people were in general bent against a conjugal 
union between such near relations ; and the late king, though 
he had betrothed his son when that prince was but twelve 
years of age, gave evident proofs of his intention to take 
afterwards a proper opportunity of annulling the contract.* 
He ordered the young prince, as soon as he came of age, tc 
enter a protestation against the marriage ; t and on his death- 
bed he charged him, as his last injunction, not to finish an 
alliance so unusual, and exposed to such insuperable objec- 
tions. After the king's accession, some members of the privy 
council, particularly Warham, the primate, openly declared 
against the resolution of completing the marriage ; and though 
Henry's youth and dissipation kept him, during some time, 
from entertaining any scruples with regard to the measure 
which he had embraced, there happened incidents sufficient to 
rouse his attention, and to inform him of the sentiments gen- 
erally entertained on that subject. The states of Castile had 
opposed the emperor Charles's espousals with Mary, Henry's 
daughter ; and among other objections, had insisted on the 
illegitimate birth of the young princess. $ And when the 
negotiations were afterwards opened with France, and mention 
was made of betrothing her to Francis or the duke of Or- 
leans, the bishop of Tarbe, the French ambassador, revived 
the same objection. $ Bat though these events naturally raised 
some doubts in Henry's mind, there concurred other causes, 

* Morrison's Apomaxis, p. 13. 

t Morrison's Apomaxis, p. 13. Heylin's Queen Mary, p. 2. 

J Lord Herbert, Fiddes's Life of Wolsey. 

4 Rymer, vol. xiv. p. 109, 9m. Heylin, p. 3. 



164 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1527. 

which tended much to increase his remoise, and render hia 
conscience more scrupulous. 

The queen was older than the king by no less than sis 
vears ; and the decay of her beauty, together with particular 
infirmities and diseases, had contributed, notwithstanding her 
blameless character and deportment, to render her person 
unacceptable to him. Though she had borne him seveial chil- 
dren, they all died in early infancy, except one daughter; 
and lie was the more struck with this misfortune, because the 
curse of being childless is the very threatening contained in 
the JVIosaical law against those who espouse their brother's 
widow The succession, too, of the crown was a considera- 
tion that occurred to every one, whenever the lawfulness of 
Henry's marriage was called in question ; and it was appre- 
hended, that if doubts of Mary's legitimacy concurred with 
the weakness of her sex, the king of Scots, the next heir, 
would advance his pretensions, and might throw the kingdom 
into confusion. The evils, as yet recent, of civil wars and 
convulsions arising from a disputed title, made great impres- 
sion on the minds of men, and rendered the people univer- 
sally desirous of any event which might obviate so irreparable 
a calamity. And the king was thus impelled, both by his pri- 
vate passions and by motives of public interest, to seek the 
dissolution of his inauspicious, and, as it was esteemed, unlaw- 
ful marriage with Catharine. 

Henry afterwards affirmed that his scruples arose entirely 
from private reflection ; and that on consulting his confessor, 
the bishop of Lincoln, he found the prelate possessed with the 
same doubts and difficulties. The king himself, being so great 
a casuist and divine, next proceeded to examine the question 
more carefully by his own learning and study ; and having 
had recourse to Thomas of Aquine, he observed that this cele- 
brated doctor, whose authority was great in the church, and 
absolute with him, had treated of that very case, and had ex- 
pressly declared against the lawfulness of such marriages.* 
The prohibitions, said Thomas, contained iri Leviticus, and 
among the rest that of marrying a brother's widow, are moral 
eternal, and founded on a divine sanction ; and though the 
pope may dispense with the rules of the church, the laws of 
God cannot be set aside by any authority less than that which 
enacted them. The archbishop of Canterbury was then 



* Burnet Fiildes. 



A. D. 1527.] henry vm. 165 

applied to ; and he was required to consult his brethren : ali 
the prelates of England, except Fisher, bishop of Rochester, 
unanimously declared, under their hand and seal, that they 
deemed the king's marriage unlawful.* Wolsey also fortified 
the king's scruples ; f partly with a view of promoting a total 
breach with the emperor, Catharine's nephew ; partly desiroua 
of connecting the king more closely with Francis, by marrying 
him to the duchess of Alencon, sister to that monarch ; and 
perhaps, too, somewhat disgusted with the queen herself, who 
had reproved him for certain freedoms, unbefitting his char- 
acter and station, t But Henry was carried forward, though 
perhaps not at first excited, by a motive more forcible than 
even the suggestions of that powerful favorite. 

Anne Boleyn, who lately appeared at court, had been ap 
pointed maid of honor to the queen ; and having had frequent 
opportunities of being seen by Henry, and of conversing with 
him, she had acquired an entire ascendant over his affections. 
This young lady, whose grandeur and misfortunes have ren- 
dered her so celebrated, was daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, 
who had been employed by the king in several embassies, 
and who was allied to all the principal nobility in the king- 
dom. His wife, mother to Anne, was daughter of the duke 
of Norfolk ; his own mother was daughter of the earl of Or- 
mond ; his grandfather, Sir Geoffrey Boleyn, who had been 
mayor of London, had espoused one of the daughters and co- 
heirs of Lord Hastings. § Anne herself, though then in very 
early youth, had been carried over to Paris by the king's sis- 
ter, when the princess espoused Lewis XII. of France ; and 
upon the demise of that monarch, and the return of his dow- 
ager into England, this damsel, whose accomplishments even 
in her tender years were always much admired, was retained 
in the service of Claude, queen of France, spouse to Francis ; 
and after the death of that princess, she passed into the fam- 
ily of the duchess of Alencon, a woman of singular merit. 
The exact time when she returned to England is not certainly 
known ; but it was after the king had entertained doubts with 
regard to the lawfulness of his marriage with Catharine, if 
the account is to be credited which he himself afterwards 
gave of that transaction. Henry's scruples had made him 

* Burnet, vol. i. p. 3S. Stowe, p. 5 IS. 

t Le Grand, vol. iii. p. <]G, 1C6, 168. Saunders. Heylin, p. -i. 

I Burnet, vol. i. p. 38; Strype, vol. i. p. 88. 

$ Camden's Preface tt 'lie Lite of Elizabeth. Burnet, vol. i. p. 44 



166 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 15527 

break off all conjugal commerce with the queen ; but as he 
still supported an intercourse of civility and friendship with 
her, he had occasion, in the frequent visits which he paid her, 
to observe the beauty, the youth, the charms of Anne Boleyn. 
Finding the accomplishments of her mind nowise inferior to 
her exterior graces, he even entertained the design of raising 
her to the throne ; and was the more confirmed in this resolu- 
tion, when he found that her virtue and modesty prevented 
all hopes of gratifying his passion in any other manner. As 
every motive, therefore, of inclination and policy seemed thus 
to concur in making the king desirous of a divorce from Cath- 
arine, and as his prospect of success was inviting, he resolved 
to make application to Clement ; and he sent Knight, his 
secretary, to Rome for that purpose. 

That he might not shock the haughty claims of the pontiff, 
he resolved not to found the application on any general doubts 
concerning the papal power to permit marriage in the nearer 
degrees of consanguinity ; but only to insist on particular 
grounds of nullity in the bull which Julius had granted for the 
marriage of Henry and Catharine. It was a maxim in the 
court of Rome, that if tbe pope be surprised into any conces- 
sion, or grant any indulgence upon false suggestions, the bull 
may afterwards be annulled ; and this pretence had usually 
been employed wherever one pope had recalled any deed ex- 
ecuted by any of his predecessors. But Julius's bull, when 
examined, afibrded abundant matter of this kind ; and any 
tribunal favorable to Henry needed not want a specious color 
for gratifying him in his applications for a di\ Dree. It was 
said in the preamble, that the bull had been granted upon his 
solicitation ; though it was known that, at that time, he was 
under twelve years of age ; it was also affirmed, as another 
motive for the bull, that the marriage was requisite, in order to 
preserve peace between the two crowns ; though it is certain 
that there was not then any ground or appearance of quarrel 
between them. These false premises in Julius's bull seemed 
to afford Clement a sufficient reason or pretence for annulling 
it, and granting Henry a dispensation for a second marriage.* 

But though the pretext for this indulgence had been less 
plausible, the pope was in such a situation that he had the 
strongest motives to embrace every opportunity of gratifying 
the English monarch. He was then a prisorer in the hands 

* Collier, Ecoles. Hist. vol. ii. r 25, from the Cott. Lib. Vitel. p. 9. 



A. D. 1527.1 HENRY VIII. -5? 

of the emperor, and had no hopes of recov3ring his liberty on 
any reasonable terms, except by the efforts of the league which 
Henry had formed with Francis and the Italian, powers, in 
order to oppose the ambition of Charles. When the English 
secretary, therefore, solicited him in private, he received a 
very favorable answer ; and a dispensation was forthwith 
promised to be granted to his master.* Soon after, the march 
of a French army into Italy, under the command of Lautrec, 
obliged the imperialists to restore Clement to his liberty; and 
ha retired to Orvietto, where the secretary, with Sir Gregory 
Cassali, the king's resident at Pwome, renewed their applica- 
tions to him. They still found him full of high professions of 
friendship, gratitude, and attachment to the king ; but not so 
prompt in granting his request as they expected. The emperor, 
who had got intelligence of Henry's application to R,ome, had 
exacted a promise from the pope, to take no steps in the affair 
before he communicated them to the imperial ministers ; and 
Clement, embarrassed by this promise, and still more overawed 
by the emperor's forces in Italy, seemed willing to postpone 
those concessions desired of him hy Henry. Importuned, how- 
ever, by the English ministers, he at last put into their hand a 
commission to Wolsey, as legate, in conjunction with the arch 
bishop of Canterbury, or any other English prelate, to examine 
the validity of the king's marriage, and of Julius's dispensa- 
tion : t he also granted them a provisional dispensation for the 
king's marriage with any other person ; and promised to issue 
a decretal hull, annulling the marriage with Catharine. But 
he represented to them the dangerous consequences which 
must ensue to him, if these concessions should come to the 
emperor's knowledge; and he conjured them not to publish 
those papers, or make any further use of them, till his affairs 
were in such a situation as to secure his liberty and independ- 
ence. And his secret advice was, whenever they should find 
the proper time for opening the scene, that they should prevent 
all opposition, by proceeding immediately to a conclusion, hy 
declaring the marriage with Catharine invalid, and by Henry's 
instantly espousing some other person. Nor would it be so 
difficult, he said, for himself to confirm these proceedings, after 
they were passed, as previously to render them valid by him 
consent and authority. X 

* Burnet, vol. i. p. 47. t Rvmer, vol. xiv. p. 237. 

t Collier, from Catt Lib. Vital, b. in. 



168 KISTORTt OF EIW5LAND. [A.D.I 528 

[1528.] When Henry received the commission and dis- 
pensation from his ambassadors, and was informed of the pope's 
advice, he laid the whole before his ministers, and asked 
their opinion in so delicate a situation. The English coun- 
sellors considered the danger of proceeding in the mannei 
pointed out to them. Should the pope refuse to ratify a deed 
which he might justly call precipitate and irregular, and should 
he disavow the advice which he gave in so clandestine a man- 
ner, the king would find his second marriage totally invali- 
dated ; the children which it might bring him declared illegit- 
imate ; and his marriage with Catharine more firmly riveted 
than ever.* And Henvy's apprehensions of the possibility, or 
even probability of such an event, were much confirmed when 
lie reflected on the character and situation of the sovereign 
pontiff". 

Clement was a prince oi excellent judgment, whenever his 
timidity, to which he was extremely subject, allowed him to 
make full use of those talents and that penetration with which 
he was eiv.lowed.f The captivity and other misfortunes which 
he had undergone by entering into a league against Charles, 
had so afiected his imagination, that he never afterwards ex- 
erted himself with vigor in any public measure ; especially if 
the interest or inclinations of that potentate stood in opposition 
to him. The imperial forces were at that time powerful in 
Italy, and might return to the attack of Rome, which was still 
defenceless, and exposed to the same calamities with which it 
had already beeu overwhelmed. And besides these dangers, 
Clement fancied himself exposed to perils which threatened 
still more immediately his person and his dignity. 

Charles, apprised of the timid disposition of the holy father, 
threw out perpetual menaces of summoning a general council ; 
which he represented as necessary to reform the church, and 
correct those enormous abuses which the ambition and avarice 
of the court of Home had introduced into every branch of 
ecclesiastical administration. The power of the sovereign 
pontiff' himself, he said, required limitation; his conduct called 
aloud for amendment ; and even his title to the throne which 
he filled might justly be called in question. That pope had 
always passed lor the natural son of Julian of Medicis, who 
was of the sovereign family of Florence ; and though Leo X., 
his kinsman, had declared him legitimate, upon a pretended 

* Burnet, vol i p. 5J f Father Paul, lib. i Guicciaid 



\.V. 1528.J HENRY VIII. lt)9 

promise of marriage between his father and mother, few bene\ed 
that declaration to be founded on any just reason or author- 
ity.* The canon law, indeed, had been entirely silent with 
regard to the promotion of bastards to the papal throne ; but, 
what was still dangerous, the people had entertained a violent 
prepossession, that this stain in the birth of any person was 

ncompatible with so holy an office. And in another point the 
canon law was express and positive, that no man guilty of 

imony could attain that dignity. A severe bull of Julius II. 
had added new sanctions to this law, by declaring that a simo- 
niacal election could not be rendered valid, even by a posterior 
consent of the cardinals. But unfortunately Clement had given 
to Cardinal Colonna a billet, containing promises of advancing 
that cardinal, in case he himself should attain the papal dignity 
by his concurrence ; and this billet Colonna, who was in entire 
dependence on the emperor, threatened every moment to 
expose to public view.i 

While Charles terrified the pope with these menaces, he 
also allured him by hopes, which were no less prevalent over 
his affections. At the time when the emperor's forces sacked 
Rome, and reduced Clement to captivity, the Florentines, pas- 
sionate for their ancient liberty, had taken advantage of his 
distresses, and revolting against the family of Medicis, had 
entirely abolished their authority in Florence, and reestab- 
lished the democracy. The better to protect themselves in 
their freedom, they had entered into the alliance with France, 
England, and Venice, against the emperor ; and Clement 
found that by this interest, the hands of his confederates were 
tied from assisting him in the restoration of his family ; the 
event which, of all others, he most passionately desired. The 
emperor alone, he knew, was able to effect this purpose ; and 
therefore, whatever professions he made of fidelity to his 
allies, he was always, on the least glimpse of hope, ready 
to embrace every proposal of a cordial reconciliation with 
that monarch. J 

These views and interests of the pope were well known in 
England ; and as the opposition of the emperor to Henry's 
divorce was foreseen, both on account of the honor and 
interests of Catharine, his aunt, and the obvious motive of dis- 
tressing an enemy, it was esteemed dangerous to take any 1 '. 

* Father Paul, lib. i. t Father Paul, lib. i 

t Father Paul. 
vol. m.~H 



'"'O HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [AD. 1528 

measure of consequence, in expectation of the subsequent 
concurrence of a man of Clement's character, whose beha- 
vior always contained so much duplicity, and who was at 
present so little at his own disposal. The safest measure 
seemed to consist in previously engaging him so far, that he 
could not afterwards recede, and in making use of his present 
ambiguity and uncertainty, to extort the most important con- 
cessions from him. For this purpose, Stephen Gardiner, the 
cardinal's secretary, and Edward Fox, the king's almoner, 
were despatched to Rome, and were ordered to solicit a com- 
mission irom the pope, of such a nature as would oblige him 
to confirm the sentence of the commissioners, whatever it 
should be, and disable him on any account to recall the com- 
mission, or evoke the cause to Rome.* 

But the same reasons which made the king so desirous oi 
obtaining this concession, confirmed the pope in the resolution 
of refusing it : he was still determined to keep the door open 
for an agreement with the emperor ; and he made no scruple 
of sacrificing all other considerations to a point, which he 
deemed the most essential and important to his own security, 
and to the greatness of his family. He granted, therefore, a 
new commission, in which Cardinal Campeggio was joined to 
Wolsey, for the trial of the king's mariage ; but ne could not 
be prevailed on to insert the clause desired of him. And 
though he put into Gardiner's hand a letter, promising not to 
recall the present commission, this promise was found, on 
examination, to be couched in such ambiguous terms, as 
left him still the power, whenever he pleased, of departing 
from it.t 

Campeggio lay under some obligations to the king ; but his 
dependence on the pope was so much greater, that he con- 
(brmed himself entirely to the views of the latter ; and though 
he received his commission in April, he delayed his departure 
under so many pretences, that it was October before he 
arrived in England. The first stop which he tock was to 
exhort the king to desist from the prosecution of his divorce ; 
and finding that this counsel gave ohence, he said, that his 
intention was also to exhort the queun io take the vows in a 
convent, and that he thought it iiii duty previously to attempt 



* Lord Herbert. Burnet, ;o'.. i. p. 29, in the Collect. Le 6 rand 
to\. iii. p. 28. Strype, vol. p. 93, with App. No. 23, 24, etc. 
t Lord Herbert, p. 291. Eurret. p. 59. 



A. 1). 1529.] HENRY Vlil. i^y 

an amicable composure of all differences.* The moru ta 
paciiy the king, he showed to him, as also to the cardinal, the 
decretal bull, annulling the former marriage with Catharine ; 
but no entreaties could prevail on him to make any other of 
the king's council privy to the secret, t In order to atone in 
some degree for this obstinacy, he expressed to the king and 
the cardinal the pope's great desire of satisfying them in 
every reasonable demand ; and in particular, he showed that 
their request for suppressing some more monasteries, and con- 
verting them into cathedrals and episcopal sees, had obtained 
the consent of his holiness. | 

These ambiguous circumstances in the behavior of the pope 
and the legate, kept the court of England in suspense, and de- 
termined the king to wait with patience the issue of such un- 
certain councils. [1529.] Fortune, meanwhile, seemed to 
promise him a more sure and expeditious way of extricating 
himself from his present difficulties. Clement was seized with 
a dangerous illness ; and the intrigues, for electing his sue 
cessor, began already to take place among the cardinals. 
Wolsey, in particular, supported by the interest of England 
and of France, entertained hopes of mounting the throne of 
St. Peter ; § and it appears, that if a vacancy had then 
happened, there was a probability of his reaching that summit 
of his ambition. But the pope rocovered, though after several 
relapses ; and he returned to the same train of false and 
deceitful politics, by which he had hitherto amused the court 
of England. He still flattered Henry with professions of the 
most cordial attachment, and promised him a sudden and 
favorable issue to his process : he still continued his secret 
negotiations with Charles, and persevered in the resolution of 
sacrificing all his promises, and all the interests of the 
Romish religion, to the elevation of his family. Campegcio, 
who was perfectly acquainted with his views and intentions, 
protracted the decision by the most artful delays ; and gave 
Clement full leisure to adjust all the terms of his treaty with 
the emperor. 

The emperor, acquainted with the king's extreme earnest- 
ness in this affair, was determined that he should obtain 
success by no other means than by an application to him, aud 



* Herbert, p. 22H. t Burnet, p 5S. 

t Rymer, vol. xiv. p. 270. Strype, vol. i. p. 1 10, 111. App.No.28 
§ Burnet, vol. i. p. 63. 



!7~ HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1529. 

by deserting his alliance with Francis, which had hitherto 
supported, against the superior force of Spain, the tottering 
state of the French monarchy. He willingly hearkened, 
therefore, to the applications of Catharine, his aunt ; and 
promising her his utmost protection, exhorted her never to 
yield to the malice and persecutions of her enemies. The 
queen herself was naturally of a firm and resolute temper ; 
and was engaged by every motive to persevere in protesting 
against the injustice to which she thought herself exposed. 
The imputation of incest, which was thrown upon her mar- 
riage with Henry, struck her with the highest indignation : 
the illegitimacy of her daughter, which seemed a necessary 
consequence, gave her the most just concern : the reluctance 
of yielding to a rival, who, she believed, had supplanted her 
in the king's affections, was a very natural motive. Actuated 
by all these considerations, she never ceased soliciting her 
nephew's assistance, and earnestly entreating an evocation of 
the cause to Rome, where alone, she thought, she could 
expect justice. And the emperor, in all his negotiations with 
the pope, made the recall of the commission which Campeggio 
and Wolsey exercised in England a fundamental article.* 

The two legates, meanwhile, opened their court at London, 
and cited the king and queen to appear before it. They both 
presented themselves ; and the king answered to his name, 
when called : but the queen, instead of answoring to hers, 
rose from her seat, and throwing herself at the king's feet, 
made a very pathetic harangue, which her virtue, her dignity, 
and her misfortunes rendered the more affecting. She told 
him, that she was a stranger in his dominions, without protec- 
tion, without counsel, without assistance ; exposed to all the 
injustice which her enemies were pleased to impose upon her: 
that she had quitted her native country without other resource 
than her connections with him and his family, and had 
expected that, instead of suffering thence any violence or 
iniquity, she was assured in them of a safeguard against every 
misfortune : that she had been his wife during twenty years, 
and would here appeal to himself, whether her affectionate 
submission to his will hal not merited better treatment, than 
to be thus, after so long a time, thrown from him with so much 
•indignity : that she was conscious — he himself was assured 
—that her virgin honor was yet unstained when he received 



* Herbert, p. 225. Burnet, vol. i. p. 69. 



A. D. 1529.1 henry vxa. 173 

her into his bed, and that her connsci^ns with his brother had 
been carried no further than the rerfirorany of marriage : that 
their parents, the kings of England and Spain, were esteemed 
the wisest princes of their time, and h&d undoubtedly acted 
by the best advice, when they formed the agreement for that 
marriage, which was now represented as so criminal and 
unnatural : and that she acquiesced in their judgment, ani' 
would not submit her cause to be tried by a court, whoe 
dependence on her enemies was too visible, ever to allow 
her any hopes of obtaining from them an equitable or impartial 
decision.* Having spoken these words, she rose, and making 
the king a low reverence, she departed from the court, and 
never would again appear in it. 

After her departure, the king did her the justice to acknow 1 
edge, that she had ever been a dutiful and affectionate wile 
and that the whole tenor of her behavior had been conformable 
to the strictest rules of probity and honor. He only insisted 
on his own scruples with regard to the lawfulness of their 
marriage ; and he explained the origin, the progress, and the 
foundation of those doubts, by which he had been so long 
and so violently agitated. He acquitted Cardinal Wolsey from 
having any hand in encouraging his scruples ; and he craved 
a sentence of the court agreeable to the justice of his cause. 

The legates, after citing the queen anew, declared her con 
tumacious, notwithstanding her appeal to Rome ; and theD 
proceeded to the examination of the cause. The first point 
which came before them was, the proof of Prince Arthui's 
consummation of his marriage with Catharine ; and it must 
be confessed, that no stronger arguments could reasonably be 
expected of such a fact after so long an interval. The age 
of the prince, who had passed his fifteenth year, the good state 
of his health, the long time that he had cohabited witn his 
consort, many of his expressions ti that very purpose; all 
these circumstances form a violent presumption in favor of the 
king's assertion. t Henry himself, after his brother's death, 
was not allowed for some time to bear the title of prince of 
Wales, in expectation of her pregnancy ; the Spanish ambas- 
sador, in order the better to insure possession of her joJn**i~% 
had sent over to Spain proofs of the consummation «f V»t 
marriage :$ Julius's bull itself was founded on the supposi**^ 



* Burnet, vol. i. p. 73. Hall. Stowe, p. 543. 

t Herbert. I Burnet, vol. ii. p 35 



J 74 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1 529 

that Arthui had perhaps had knowledge of the princess : in 
the very treaty, fixing Henry's marriage, the consummation 
of the former ra irriage with Prince Arthur : s acknowledged 
on hoth sides.* These particulars were all laid before the 
court ; accompanied with many reasonings concerning the 
extent of the pope's authority, and against his power of grant- 
ing a dispensation to marry within the prohibited degrees. 
Campeggio heard these doctrines with great impatience ; 
and notwithstanding his resolution to protract the cause, 
he was often tempted to interrupt and silence the king's 
counsel, when they insisted on such disagreeable topics. The 
trial was spun out till the twenty-third of July ; and Campeg- 
gio chiefly took on him the part of conducting it. Wolsey, 
though the elder cardinal, permitted him to act as president of 
the court ; because it was thought, that a trial managed by an 
Italian cardinal would carry the appearance of greater candor 
and impartiality, than if the king's own minister and favorite 
had presided in it. The business now seemed to be drawing 
near to a period ; and the king was every day in expectation 
of a sentence in his favor ; when, to his great surprise, Cam- 
peggio, on a sudden, without any warning, and upon very 
frivolous pretences.t prorogued the court till the first of Octo- 
ber. The evocation, which came a few days after from Rome, 
put an end to all the hopes of success which the king had so 
long and so anxiously cherished. \ 

During the time that the trial was carried on before the 
legates at London, the emperor had by his ministers earnestly 
solicited Clement to evoke the cause ; and had employed every 
topic of hope or terror which could operate either on the ambi- 
tion or timidity of the pontiff. The English ambassadors, on 
the other hand, in conjunction Avith the French, had been no 
less earnest in their applications, that the legates should be 
allowed to finish the trial ; but though they employed the same 
engines of promises and menaces, the motives which they 
could set before the pope wi re not so urgent or immediate 
as those which were held up to him by the emperor. § The 
dread of losing England, and of fortifying the Lutherans by so 
considerable an accession, made small impression on Clement's 
mind, in comparison of the anxiety for his personal safety, 
and the load desire of restoring the Medici to their dominion 
in Florence. As soon, therefore, as he had adjusted all terms 

* Rymer, vol. xiii. p. SI. t Burnet, vol. i. p. 76, 77. 

1 Herbert, p 254. § Burnet, vol. i. p. 75. 



A. I). 1529] iienr-v v:a. 175 

tvith the emperor, he laid hold of the pretence of justice, which 
required him, as he asserted, to pay regard to the queen's 
appeal ; and suspending the commission of the legates, ht> 
adjourned the cause to his own personal judgment at Rome. 
Campeggio had beibrehand received private orders, delivered 
by Campana, to burn the decretal bull with which he was in- 
trusted. 

Wolsey had long foreseen this measure as the sure forerun 
ner of his ruin. Though he had at first desired that the king 
should rather marry a French princess than Anne Boleyn, he 
had employed himself with the utmost assiduity and earnest- 
ness to bring the affair to a happy issue : * he was not, therefore, 
to be blamed lor the unprosperous event which Clement's 
partiality had produced. But he had sufficient experience of 
the extreme ardor and impatience of Henry's temper, who 
could bear no contradiction, and was wont, without examination 
or distinction, to make his ministers answerable for the success 
of those transactions with which they were intrusted. Anne 
Boleyn also, who was prepossessed against him, had imputed 
to him the failure of her hopes ; and as she was newly returned 
to court, whence she had been removed, from a regard to 
decency, during the trial before the legates, she had naturally 
acquired an additional influence on Henry, and she served 
much to fortify his prejudices against the cardinal. t Even 
the queen and her partisans, judging of Wolsey by the part 
which he had openly acted, had expressed great animosity 
against him ; and the most opposite factions seemed now to 
combine in the ruin of this haughty minister. The high opin- 
ion itself, which Henry had entertained of the cardinal's 
capacity, tended to hasten his downfall ; while he imputed the 
bad success of that minister's undertakings, not to ill fortune 
or to mistake, but to the malignity or infidelity of his intentions. 
The blow, however, fell not instantly on his head. The king, 
who probably could not justify by any good reason his aliena- 
tion from his ancient favorite, seems to have remained some 
time in suspense ; and he received him, if not with all his 
former kindness, at least with the appearance of trust, and 
regard. 

But constant experience evinces how rarely a high con- 
fidence and affection receives the least diminution, without 
sinking into absolute indifference, or even running into the 

* Collier, vol. ii. p. 45. Burnet, vol. i. p. !>3. 
t Cavendish, p. 40- 



170 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. J/.D. i529 

opposite extreme. The king now determined to bnng on the 
ruin of the cardinal with a motion almost as precipitate as he 
hud formerly employed in his elevation. The dukes of Ncr 
folk and Suffolk were sent to require the great seal from him , 
and on his scrupling to deliver it* without a more express 
warrant, Henry wrote him a letter, upon which it was sur- 
rendered ; and it was delivered by the king to Sir Thomas 
More, a man who, besides the ornaments of an elegant liter- 
ature, possessed the highest virtue, integrity, and capacity. 

Wolsey was ordered to depart from York Place, a palace 
which he had built in London, and which, though it really 
belonged to the see of York, was seized by Henry, arid 
became afterwards the residence of the kings of England, by 
the title of Whitehall. All his furniture and plate were also 
seized : their riches and splendor befitted rather a royal than a 
private fortune. The walls of his palace were covered with 
cloth of gold or cloth of silver : he had a cupboard of plate of 
massy gold : there were found a thousand pieces of fine holland 
belonging to him. The rest of his riches and furniture was in 
proportion ; and his opulence was probably no small induce- 
ment to this violent persecution against him. 

The cardinal was ordered to retire to Asher, a country sea 
which he possessed near Hampton Court. The world, that 
had paid him such abject court during his prosperity, now 
entirely deserted him on this fatal reverse of all his fortunes 
He himself was much dejected with the change ; and from the 
same turn of mind which had made him be so vainly elated 
with his grandeur, he felt the stroke of adversity with double 
rigor. t The smallest appearance of his return to favor threw 
him into transports of joy unbecoming a man. The king had 
seemed willing, during some time, to intermit the blows which 
overwhelmed him. He granted him his protection, and left 
him in possession of the sees of York and Winchester. He 
even sent him a gracious message, accompanied with a ring, 
as a testimony of his affection. Wolsey, who was on horseback 
when the messenger met him, immediately alighted ; and. 
throwing himself on his knees in the mire, received in that 
humble attitude these marks of his majesty's gracious dispos* 
tion towards him. t 

* Cavendish, p. 41. 

t Strype, vol. i. p. 114, 115. App. No. 31 etc. 
J Stowe, p. 547. 



A. .D. 1529.] hemit vin. W 

But his enemies, who dreaded his return u* court, nevej: 
ceased plying the king with accounts of his several offences ; 
and Anne Boleyn, in particular, contributed her endeavors, in 
conjunction with her uncle, the duke of Norfolk, to exclude 
him from all hopes of ever being reinstated in his former 
authority. He dismissed, therefore, his numerous retinue ; 
and as he was a kind and beneficent master, the separation 
passted not without a plentiful effusion of tears on both sides.* 
The king's heart, notwithstanding some gleams of kindness., 
seemed now totally hardened against his old favorite. He 
ordered him to be indicted in the star chamber, where a 
sentence was passed against him. And, not content with this 
severity, he abandoned him to all the rigor of the parliament, 
which now, after a long interval, was again assembled. Tho 
house of lords voted a long charge against "Wolsey, consisting 
of forty-four articles ; and accompanied it with an applica- 
tion to the king for his punishment, and his removal from all 
authority. Little opposition was made to this charge in the 
upper house : no evidence of any part of it was so much as 
called for ; and as it chiefly consists of general accusations, it 
was scarcely susceptible of any.t The articles were sent down 
to the house of commons ; where Thomas Cromwell, formerly 
a servant of the cardinal's, and who had been raised by him 
from a A r ery low station, defended his unfortunate patron with 
such spirit, generosity, and courage, as acquired him great 
honor, and laid the foundation of that favor which he after- 
wards enjoyed with the king. 

Wolsey's enemies, finding that either his innocence or his 
caution prevented them from having any just ground of ac- 
cusing him, had recourse to a very extraordinary expedient. 
An indictment was laid against him, that, contrary to a 
statute of Richard II., commonly called the statute of pro- 
visors, he had procured bulls from Rome, particularly ono 
investing him with the legatine power, which he had exercised 
with very extensive authority. He confessed the indictment, 
pleaded ignorance of the statute, and throw himself on the 
king's mercy. He was perhaps within reach of the law ; 
but besides that this statute had fallen into disuse, nothing 
could be more rigorous and severe than to impute to him as a 
crime what he had openly, during the course of so many 



* Cavendish. Stowe, p. 549. 

t See note F. at the end of the volume. 



178 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. L>. 1529 

years, practised with the consent and approbation of the king 
and tne acquiescence of the parliament and kingdom. Not ta 
mention what he always asserted,* and what we can scarcely 
doubt of, that he had obtained the royal license in the most 
formal manner, which, had he not been apprehensive of the 
dangers attending any opposition to Henry's lawless will, he 
might have pleaded in his own defence before the judges. 
Sentence, however, was pronounced against him, " That he 
was out of the king s protection ; his lands and goods for- 
feited ; and that his person might be committed to custody. 1 ' 
But this prosecution of Wolsey was carried no further. Henry 
;ven granted him a pardon for all offences ; restored him part 
of his plate and furniture ; and still continued, from time 
to time, to drop expressions of favor and compassion towards 
him. 

The complaints against the usurpations of the ecclesiastics 
had been very ancient in England, as well as in most other 
European kingdoms ; and as this topic was now become popu- 
lar every where, it had paved the way for the Lutheran tenets, 
and reconciled the people, in some measure, to the frightful 
idea of heresy and innovation. The commons, finding the 
occasion favorable, passed several bills restraining the imposi- 
tions of the clergy ; one for the regulating of mortuaries ; 
another against the exactions for the probates of wills;! a 
third against non-residence and pluralities, and against church- 
men's being farmers of land. But what appeared chiefly 
dangerous to the ecclesiastical order, were the severe invec- 
tives thrown out, almost without opposition, in the house, 
against the dissolute lives of the priests, their ambition, their 
avarice, and their endless encroachments on the laity. Lord 
Herbert % has even preserved the speech of a gentleman of 
Gray's Inn, which is of a singular nature, and contains such 
topics as we should little expect to meet with during that 
period. The member insists upon the vast variety of theo- 
logical opinions which prevailed in different nations and 
ages ; the endless inextricable controversies maintained by the 
several sects ; the impossibility that any man, much less the 

* Cavendish, p. 72. 

t These exactions were quite arbitrary, and had risen to a grea* 
height. A member said «i the house, that a thousand marks hac 
been exacted from him o bat acco int. Hall, fob 188. Strype 
•yob i. p. 73. 

t Page 293. 



A.D 15','y.l henry vir 17V 

people, could ever know, muck less examine, the tenets and 
principles of every sect ; the necessity of ignorance and a j 
suspense of judgment with regard to all those objects of dis- I 
pute : and, upon the whole, he infers, that the only religion 
obligatory on mankind is the belief of one Supreme Being, w 
the author of nature ; and the necessity of good morals, in j 
order to obtain his favor and protection. Such sentiments I 
would be deemed latitudinarian, even in our time ; and would 
not be advanced, without some precaution, in a public as- 
sembly. But though the first broaching of religious contro 
versy might encourage the sceptical turn in a few persons of 
a studious disposition, the zeal with which men soon after 
attached themselves to their several parties, served effectually 
to banish for a long time all such obnoxious liberties. 

The bills for regulating the clergy met with some opposition 
m the house of lords. Bishop Fisher, in particular, impute 
these measures of the commons to their want of faith ; ana 
to a formed design, derived from heretical and Lutheran prin- 
ciples, of robbing the church of her patrimony, and over- 
turning the national religion. The duke of Norfolk reproved 
the prelate in severe, and even somewhat indecent terms 
He told him, that the greatest clerks were not always the 
wisest men. But Fisher replied, that he did not remember 
iny fools in his time who had proved great clerks. The 
exceptions taken at the bishop of Rochester's speech stopped 
aot there. The commons, by the mouth of Sir Thomas 
Audley, their speaker, made complaints to the king of the 
reflections thrown upon them ; and the bishop was obliged to 
put a more favorable construction on his words.* 

Henry was not displeased that the court of Rome and the 
;lergy should be sensible that they were entirely dependent 
on him, and that his parliament, if he were willing to second 
iheir inclinations, was sufficiently disposed to reduce the power 
and privileges of the ecclesiastics. The commons gratified 
the king in another particular of moment : they granted him 
a discharge of all those debts which he had contracted since 
tne beginning of his reign ; and they grounded this bill, which 
occasioned many complaints, on a pretence of the king's great 
care of the nation, and of his regularly employing all the 
oik'ney which he had borrowed in the public service. Most 
*V the king's creditors consisted of friends to the cardinal 

* Pari. Hist. vol. iii. p. 59. Burnet, vol. ii. p. S2. 



i80 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [ A. D. 1 529 

who had been engaged by their patron to contribute to the 
supply of Henry's necessities ; and the present courtiers were 
well pleased to take the opportunity of mulcting them.* 
Several also approved of an expedient which, they hoped, 
would ever after discredit a method of supply so irregular and 
so unparliamentary. 

The domestic transactions of England were at present so 
interesting to the kins - , that they chiefly engaged his attention; 
and he regarded foreign affairs only in subordination to them. 
He had declared war against the emperor ; but the mutual 
advantages reaped by the commerce between England and 
the Netherlands, had engaged him to stipulate a neutrality 
with those provinces ; and, except by money contributed to 
the Italian wars, he had in effect exercised no hostilty against 
any of the imperial dominions. A general peace was this 
summer established in Europe. Margaret of Austria and 
Louisa of Savoy met at Cambray, and settled the terms of 
pacification between the French king and the emperor. 
Charles accepted of two millions of crowns in lieu of Bur- 
gundy ; and he delivered up the two princes of France, whom 
he had retained as hostages. Henry was, on this occasion, so 
generous to his friend and ally Francis, that he sent him an 
acquittal of near six hundred thousand crowns, which that 
prince owed him. Francis's Italian confederates were not 
so well satisfied as the king with the peace of Cambray : they 
were almost wholly abandoned to the will of the emperor, 
and semed to have no means of security left but his equity 
and moderation. Florence, after a brave resistance, was 
subdued by the imperial arms, and finally delivered over to 
the dominion of the family of Medici. The Venetians were 
better treated : they were only obliged to relinquish some 
acquisitions which they had made on the coast of Naples 
Even Francis Sforza obtained the investiture of Milan, and 
was pardoned for all past offences. The emperor in person 
pa.ssed into Italy with a magnificent train, and received the 
imperial crown from the hands of the pepe at Bologna. He 
was but twenty-nine years of age ; and having already, by 
his vigor and capacity, succeeded in every enterprise, and 
t educed to captivity the two greatest potentates in Europe 
the one spiritual, the other temporal, he attracted the eyes of 
all men ; and many prognostications were formed of hia 
growing empire. 

* Burnet, vol ii. n. S3 



A. D. 1529. J HENRY VIII. 16i 

But though Charles seemed to be prosperous on every side, 
and though the conquest of Mexico and Peru now beg nn tc 
prevent that scarcity of money under which he had hitherto 
labored, he found himself threatened with difficulties in Ger- 
many ; and his desire of surmounting them was the chief 
cause of his granting such moderate conditions to the Italian 
powers. Sultan Solyman, the greatest and most accomplish- 
ed prince that ever sat on the Ottoman throne, had almost 
entirely subdued Hungary, had besieged Vienna, and, though 
repulsed, still menaced the hereditary dominions of the house 
of Austria with conquest and subjection. The Lutheran 
princes of the empire, finding that liberty of conscience was 
denied them, had combined in a league lor their own defence 
at Smalcalde ; and because they protested against the votes 
passed in the imperial diet, they thenceforth received the ap- 
pellation of " Protestants." Charles had undertaken to reduce 
them to obedience ; and on pretence of securing the purity of 
religion, he had laid a scheme lor aggrandizing his own family, 
by extending his dominion over all Germany. 

The friendship of Henry was one material circumstance 
yet wanting to Charles, in order to insure success in his am 
bitious enterprises; and the king was sufficiently apprised that 
the concurrence of that prince would at once remove all the 
difficulties which lay in the way of his divorce ; that point 
which had long been the object of his most earnest wishes. 
But besides that the interests of his kingdom seemed to require 
an alliance with Prance, his haughty spirit could not submit 
to a friendship imposed on him by constraint ; and as he had 
ever been accustomed to receive courtship, deference, and 
solicitation from the greatest potentates, he could ill brook 
that dependence to which this unhappy affair seemed to have 
reduced him. Amidst the anxieties with which he was agi- 
tated, he was often tempted to break off all connections with 
the court of Pwome ; and though he had been educated in a 
superstitious leverence to papal authority, it is likely that his 
personal experience of the duplicity and selfish politics of 
Clement had served much to open his eyes in that particular 
He found his prerogative firmly established at home : he ob- 
served that his people were in general much disgusted with 
clerical usurpations, and disposed to reduce the powers and 
privileges of the ecclesiastical order : he knew that they had 
cordially taken part with him in his prosecution of the divorce, 
and highly resented the unworthy treatment which, after sn 



183 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1529 

many services and such devoted attachment, he had received 
from the court of Rome. Anne Boleyn also coidd not fail to 
aee all her efforts, and employ every insinuation, in order It 
make him proceed to extremities against the pope ; both as it 
was the readiest way to her attaining royal dignity, and as her 
education in the court of the duchess of Alencon, a princess 
inclined to the reformers, had already disposed her to a belief 
of the new doctrines. But notwithstanding these inducements, 
Henry had strong motives still to desire a good agreement 
with the sovereign pontiff". He apprehended the danger of 
such great innovations : he dreaded the reproach of heresy : 
he abhorred all connections with the Lutherans, the chief 
opponents of the papal power ; and having once exerted him- 
self with such applause, as he imagined, in defence of the 
Romish communion, he was ashamed to retract his former 
opinions, and betray from passion such a palpable inconsisten- 
cy. While he was agitated by these contrary motives, an ex- 
pedient was proposed, which, as it promised a solution of all 
difficulties, was embraced by him with the greatest joy and 
satisfaction. 

Dr. Thomas Cranmer, fellow of Jesus College in Cam- 
bridge, was a man remarkable in that university for his 
learning, and still more for the candor and disinterestedness 
of his temper. He fell one evening by accident into com- 
pany with Gardiner, now secretary of state, and Fox, the 
king's almoner ; and as the business of the divorce became 
the subject of conversation, he observed that the readiest way 
either to quiet Henry's conscience, or extort the pope's con- 
sent, would be to consult all the universities of Europe with 
regard to this controverted point : if they agreed to approve 
of the king's marriage with Catharine, his remorses would 
naturally cease ; if they condemned it, the pope would find 
it difficult to resist the solicitations of so great a monarch 
seconded by the opinion of all the learned men in Christen 
dom.*" When the king was informed of the proposal, he 
was delighted with it ; and swore, with more alacrity than 
^delicacy, that Cranmer had got the right sow by the ear : he 
sent for that divine ; entered into conversation with him ; 

I conceived a high opinion of his virtue and understanding ; 
engaged him to write in defence of the divorce ; and im 

* Fox, p. I860, 2d edit. Burnet, \i\. i. p. 79. Speed, p 7G9 Hey 
in, p. 5, 



A.D. U29.] henry vm. 18iJ 

mediately, in prosecution of the scheme proposed, employer] 
his agents to collect the judgments of all the universities in 
Europe. 

Had the question of Henry's marriage with Catharine been 
examined by the principles of sound philosophy, exempt frorc 
superstition, it seemed not liable to much difficulty. The 
natural reason why marriage in certain degrees is prohibited 
by the civil laws, and condemned by the moral sentiments of 
all nations, is derived from men's care to preserve purity of 
manners ; while they reflect, that if a commerce of love were 
authorized between near relations, the frequent opportunities 
of intimate conversation, especially during early youth, would 
introduce a universal dissoluteness and corruption. But as 
the customs of countries vary considerably, and open an inter- 
course, more or less restrained, between different families, or 
between the several members of the same family, we find 
that the moral precept, varying with its cause, is susceptible, 
without any inconvenience, of very different latitude in the 
several ages and nations of the world. The extreme delicacy 
of the Greeks permitted no communication between persons 
of different sexes, except where they lived under the same roof ; 
and even the apartments of a step-mother and the daughters 
were almost as much shut up against visits from her husband's 
sons, as against those from any stranger or more distant rela- 
tion : hence, in that nation, it was lawful for a man to marry 
not only his niece, but his half-sister by the father ; a liberty 
unknown to the Homans, and other nations, where a more 
open intercourse was authorized between the sexes. Reason- 
ing from this principle, it would appear, that the ordinary 
commerce of life among great, princes is so obstructed by 
ceremony and numerous attendants, that no ill consequence 
would result among them from marrying a brother's widow ; 
especially if the dispensation of the supreme priest be previous- 
ly required, in order to justify what may in common cases be 
condemned, and to hinder the precedent from becoming too 
common and familiar. And as strong motives of public inter- 
est and tranquillity may frequently require such alliances be- 
tween the foreign families, there is the less reason for extend- 
ing towards them the full rigor of the rule which has place 
among individuals.* 

But in opposition to these reasons, and many more which 

* Soc inite G. at the end A the volume. 



18-1 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1539 

might be, collected, Henry had custom and precedent on his 
6ide, the principle by which men are almost wholly governed 
in their actions and opinions. The marrying of a brother's 
widow was so unusual, that no other instance of it could be 
found in any history or record of any Christian nation ; and 
though the popes were accustomed to dispense with more 
essential precepts of morality, and even permitted marriages 
within other prohibited degrees, such as those of uncle and 
niece, the imaginations of men were not yet reconciled to this 
particular exercise of his authority. [1530.] Several univer- 
sities of Europe, therefore, without hesitation, as well as with- 
out interest or reward,* gave verdict in the king's favor ; 
not only those of France, Paris, Orleans, Bourges, Toulouse, 
Angiers, which might be supposed to lie under the influence 
of their prince, ally to Henry ; but also those of Italy, Venice, 
Ferrara, Padua ; even Bologna itself, though under the imme- 
diate jurisdiction of Clement. Oxford alone t and Cambridge:}: 
made some difficulty ; because these universities, alarmed at 
the progress of Lutheranism, and dreading a defection from 
the holy see, scrupled to give their sanction to measures whose 
consequences they feared would prove fatal to the ancient 
religion. Their opinion, however, conformable to that of the 
other universities of Europe, was at last obtained ; and the 
king, in order to give more weight to all these authorities, 
engaged his nobility to write a letter to the pope, recommend- 
ing his cause to the holy father, and threatening him with the 
most dangerous consequences in case of a denial of justice. § 
The convocations, too, both of Canterbury and York, pro- 
nounced the king's marriage invalid, irregular, and contrary 
to the law of God, with which no human power had authority 
to dispense. || But Clement, lying still under the influence of 
the emperor, continued to summon the king to appear, either 
by himself or proxy, before his tribunal at Rome ; and the 
kin?, who knew that he could expect no fair trial there, refused 
to submit to such a condition, and would not even admit of 
any citation, which he regarded as a high insult, and a vir» 
lation of his royal prerogative. The father of Anne Boleyn 
created earl of Wiltshire, carried to the pope the king's rea 



* Herbert. Burnet. 

f Wood, Hist, and Ant. Ox. lib. i. p. 225. 

J. Burnet, vol. i. p. 6. 

$ Rymer, vol. xiv. p. 405. Burnet, vcl. i. p. 05. 

U Rymer, vol. xiv. p. 454, 472. 



A. D. 1530.] henrv vin. i~3 

eons for not appearing by proxy ; and, as the first instance 
of disrespect from England, refused to kiss his holiness's foot, 
which he very graciously held out to him for that purpose * 

The extremities to which Henry was pushed, both against 
the pope and the ecclesiastical order, were naturaiiy disagree- 
able to Cardinal Wolsey ; and as Henry foresaw nis opposition, 
it is the most probable reason that can be assigned for his 
renewing the prosecution against his ancient favorite. After 
Woisey had remained some time at Asher, he was allowed to 
remove to Richmond, a palace which he had received as a 
present from Henry, in return for Hampton Court ; but the 
courtiers, dreading still his vicinity to the king, procured an 
order for him to remove to his see of \ork. The cardinal 
knew it was in vain to resist ; he took up his residence at 
Cawood, in Yorkshire, where he rendered himself extremely 
popular in the neighborhood by his affaohity and hospitality ; t 
but he was not allowed to remain tang unmolested in this 
retreat. The earl of Northumberland received orders, with- 
out regard to Wolsey's ecclesiastical character, to arrest him 
for high treason, and to conduct him to London, in order to 
his trial. The cardinal, partly from the fatigues of his jour- 
ney, partly from the agitation of his anxious mind, was seized 
with a disorder which turned into a dysentery ; and he was 
able, with some difficulty, to reach Leicester Abbey. When 
the abbot and the monks advanced to receive him with much 
respect and reverence, he told them that he was come to lay 
his bones among them ; and he immediately took to his bed, 
whence he never rose more. A little before he expired, he 
addressed himself in the following words to Sir William King- 
ston, constable of the Tower, who had him in custody. " I 
pray you have me heartily recommended unto his royal ma- 
jesty, and beseech him on my behalf to call to his remem- 
brance all matters that have passed between us from the 
beginning, especially with regard to his business with the 
queen ; and then will he know in his conscience whether I 
have offended him. 

" He is a prince of a most royal carriage, and hath a 
princely heart ; and rather than he will miss or want any part 
of his will, he will endanger the one half of his kingdom. 

"I do assure you, that I have often kneeled before hinv 
•ometimes three hours together, to persuade him from his will 

* Burntst, vol. i. p. 94. t Cavendish Stowe, p f>54. 




186 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1 S3 1 

and appetite ; but could not prevail : had I but served God as 
diligently as I have served the king, he would not have given 
me over in my gray hairs. But this is the just reward that I 
must receive for my indulgent pains and study, not regarding 
my service to God, but only to my prince. Therefore, let me 
advise you, if you be one of the privy council, as by yor.r 
wisdom you are fit, take care what you put into the king's 
head ; for you can never put it out again."* 

Thus died this famous cardinal, whose character seems to 
have contained as singular a variety as the fortune to which 
he was exposed. The obstinacy and violence of the king's 
temper may alleviate much of the blame which some of hia 
favorite's measures have undergone ; and when we consider, 
that the subsequent part of Henry's reign was much more 
criminal than that which had been directed by Wolsey's coun- 
sels, we shall be inclined to suspect those historians of par- 
tiality, who have endeavored to load the memory of this min- 
ister with such violent reproaches. If, in foreign politics, he 
sometimes employed his influence over the king lor his private 
purposes, rather than his master's service, which, he boasted, 
he had solely at heart, we must remember, that he had in 
view the papal throne ; a dignity which, had he attained it, 
would have enabled him to make Henry a suitable return for 
all his favors. The cardinal of Amboise, whose memory is 
respected in France, always made this apology for his own 
conduct, which was, in some respect, similar to Wolsey's ; 
and we have reason to think, that Henry was well acquainted 
with the views by which his minister was influenced, and took 
a pride in promoting them. He much regretted his death, 
when informed of it, and always spoke favorably of his 
memory ; a proof that humor, more than reason, or any dis- 
covery of treachery, had occasioned the last persecutions 
against him. 

[1531.] A new session of parliament was held, together 
with a convocation ; and the king here gave strong proofs of 
his extensive authority, as well as of his intention to turn it to 
the depression of the clergy. As an ancient statute, now 
almost obsolete, had been employed to vuin Wolsey, and ren- 
der his exercise of the legatine power c.iminal, notwithstand- 
ing the king's permission, the same law was now turned 
against the ecclesiastics. It was pretended, that every on* 

* Cavendish. 



A.b 1532.] HENRY VIA. 187 

who had submitted to the legatine court, that is, the whole 
church, had violated the statute of provisors ; and the attorney- 
general accordingly brought an indictment against them.* 
The convocation knew, that it would be in vain to oppose 
reason or equity to the king's arbitrary will, or plead that their 
ruin would have been the certain consequence of not submit- 
ting to Wolsey's commission, which was procured by Henry's 
consent, and supported by his authority. They chose, there- 
fore, to throw themselves on the mercy of their sovereign ; 
and they agreed to pay a hundred and eighteen thousand eight 
hundred and forty pounds lor a pardon. t A confession was 
likewise extorted from them, that the king was the protector 
and the supreme head of the church and clergy of England ; 
though some of them had the dexterity to get a clause inserted, 
which invalidated the whole submission, and which ran in 
these terms : " in so far as is permitted by the law of Christ." 

The commons, finding that a pardon was granted the clergy, 
began to be apprehensive for themselves, lest either they 
should afterwards be brought into trouble on account of their 
submission to the legatine court, or a supply, in like manner, 
be extorted from them, in return for their pardon. They 
therefore petitioned the king to grant a remission to his lay 
subjects; but they met with a repulse. He told them, that 
if he ever chose to forgive their offence, it would be from his 
own goodness, not from their application, lest he should seem 
to be compelled to it. Some time after, when they despaired 
of obtaining this concession, he was pleased to issue a pardon 
to the laity ; and the commons expressed great gratitude for 
that act of clemency. $ 

[1532.] By this strict execution of the statute of provisors, 
a great part of the profit, and still more of the power of the 
court of Rome was cut off; and the connections between the 
pope and the English clergy were in some measure dissolved. 
The next session found both king and parliament in the same 
dispositions. An act was passed against levying the annates 
or first-fruits, $ being a year's rent of all the bishoprics that 
fell vacant ; a tax which was imposed by the court of Rome 
for granting bulls to the new prelates, and which was found 
to amount to considerable sums. Since the second of Henry 

* Antiq. Brit. Eccles. p. 325. Burnet, vol. i. p. 106. 
f Holingshed, p. 923. 

t Hall's Chronicle. Holingshed, p. 923. Baker, p. 208. 
\ Burnet, vol. i. Collect. No. 41. Strype, vol. i. p. 144. 



188 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. l5o2 

VII., no less than one hundred and sixty thousand pounds har 
been transmitted to Rome on account of this claim ; which 
the parliament, therefore, reduced to five per cent, on all thy 
episcopal benefices. The better to keep the pope in awe, the 
king Avas intrusted with a power of regulating these payment?! 
and of confirming or infringing this act at his pleasure ; and 
it was voted, that any censures which should be passed by the 
court of Rome on account of that law, should be entirely dis- 
regarded, and that mass should be said, and the sacraments 
administered, as if no such censures had been issued. 

This session, the commons preferred to the king a long com- 
plaint against the abuses and oppressions of the ecclesiastical 
courts ; and they were proceeding to enact laws for remedy- 
ing them, when a difference arose, which put an end to the 
session before the parliament had finished all their business. 
It was become a custom for men to make such settlements, 01 
trust deeds, of their lands by will, that they defrauded not 
onlv the king, but all other lords, of their wards, mauia<res, 
and reliefs ; and by the same artifice the king was deprived 
of his premier seizin, and the profits of the livery, which 
were no inconsiderable branches of his revenue. Henry 
made a bill be drawn to moderate, not remedy altogether, this 
abuse ; he was contented, that every man should have the 
liberty of disposing in this manner of the half of his land ; 
and he told the parliament in plain terms, " if they would not 
take a reasonable thing when it was offered, he would search 
out the extremity of the law ; and then -would not offer them 
so much again." The lords came willingly into his terms; 
but the commons rejected the bill ; a singular instance, where 
Henry might see that his power and authority, though ex- 
tensive, had yet some boundaries. The commons, however, 
found reason to repent of their victory. The king made good 
his threats : he called together the judges and ablest lawyers, 
who argued the question in chancery ; and it was decided, 
that a man could not by law bequeath any part of his lands 
in prejudice of his heir.* 

The parliament being again assembled after a short proro- 
gation, the king caused the two oaths to be read to them, that 
which the bishops took to the pope, and that to the king, on 
their installation ; and as a contradiction might be suspected 
between them, while the prelates seemed to swear allegian^ 

* Burnet, vol. i. p. 116. Hall. Pari. Hist. 



A. D. 1532.] henry vin. 18% 

to two sovereigns ;* the parliament showed their intention of 
abolishing the oath to the pope, when their proceedings were 
suddenly stopped by the breaking out of the plague at West- 
minster, which occasioned a prorogation. It is i-emarkable, 
that one Temse ventured this session to move, that the house 
should address the king, to take back the queen, and stop the 
prosecution of his divorce. This motion made the king send 
for Audley, the speaker, and explain to him the scruples with 
which his conscience had long been burdened ; scruples, he 
said, which had proceeded from no wanton appetite, which 
had arisen after the fervors of youth were past, and which 
were confirmed by the concurring sentiments of all the learned 
societies in Europe. Except in Spain and Portugal, he added, 
it was never heard of, that any man had espoused two sisters ; 
but he himself had the misfortune, he believed, to be the first 
Christian man that had ever married his brother's widow. t 

After the prorogation, Sir Thomas More, the chancellor, 
fores aeing that all the measures of the king and parliament 
led 1o a breach with the church of Rome, and to an altera- 
tion of religion, with which his principles would not permit 
him to concur, desired leave to resign the great seal ; and he 
descended from his high station with more joy and alacrity 
than he had mounted up to it. The austerity of this man's 
virtue, and the sanctity of his manners, had nowise encroach- 
ed on the gentleness of his temper, or even diminished thai 
frolic and gayety to which he was naturally inclined. He. 
sported with all the varieties of fortune into which he was 
thrown ; and neither the pride naturally attending a high 
station, nor the melancholy incident to poverty and retreat, 
could ever lay hold of his serene and equal spirit. While his 
family discovered symptoms of sorrow on laying down the 
grandeur and magnificence to which they had been accustom- 
ed, he drew a subject of mirth from their distresses ; and made 
them ashamed of losing even a moment's cheerfulness on ac- 
count of such trivial misfortunes. The king, who had enter- 
tained a high opinion of his virtue, received his resignation 
with some difficulty : and he delivered the great seal soon 
after to Sir Thomas Audley. 

During these transactions in England, and these invasions 
of the papal aud ecclesiastical authority, the court of Rome 
was not without solicitude ; and she entertained just appre- 



* Burnet, vol. i. p. 133. ISt. t Herbert. Hall, fol 



190 HISTORY OF ENGLAND [A. D. 1 532. 

hensions of losing entirely her authority iu England ; tha 
kingdom which, of'all others, had long heen th. most devoted 
to the holy see, and which had yielded it the most ample reve- 
nue. While the imperial cardinals pushed Clement to proceed 
to extremities against the king, his more moderate and impar- 
tial counsellors represented to him the indignity of his proceed- 
ings ; that a great monarch, who had signalized himself, both 
by his pen and his sword, in the cause of the pope, should be 
denied a favor which he demanded on such just grounds, and 
which had scarcely ever before been refused to any person of 
his rank and station. Notwithstanding these remonstrances, 
the queen's appeal was received at Rome ; the king was cited 
to appear ; and several consistories were held, to examine the 
validity of their marriage. Henry was determined not to 
send any proxy to plead his cause before this court : he only 
despatched Sir Edward Karne and Dr. Bonner, in quality of 
excusators, (so they were called,) to carry his apology, for 
not paying that deference to the papal authority. The pre- 
rogatives of his crown, he said, must be sacrificed, if he 
allowed appeals from his own kingdom ; and as the question 
regarded conscience, not power or interest, no proxy could 
supply his place, or convey that satisfaction which the dictates 
of his own mind alone could confer. In order to support him- 
self in this measure, and add greater security to his intended 
defection from Rome, he procured an interview with Francis 
at Boulogne and Calais, where he renewed his personal friend- 
ship as well as public alliance with that monarch, and con- 
certed all measures for their mutual defence. He even em 
ployed arguments, by which he believed he had persuaded 
Francis to imitate his example in withdrawing his obedience 
from the bishop of Borne, and administering ecclesiastical 
affairs without having further recourse to that see. And being 
now fully determined in his own mind, as well as resolute to 
stand all consequences, he privately celebrated his marriage 
with Anne Boleyn, whom he had previously created mar 
chioness of Pembroke. Bouland Lee, soon after raised to tli6 
bishopric of Coventry, officiated at the marriage. The duke 
of Norfolk, uncle to the new queen, her father, mother, and 
brother, together with Dr. Cranmer, were present st the cere- 
mony.* Anne became pregnant soon after her marriage ; ant* 
this event both gave great satisfaction to the king, and WM 



* Herbert, p. 340, 341. 



A.D. 1533.J henry vin. 19? 

regarded by the people as a strong proof of the queen's for- 
mer modesty and virtue 

[1533.] The parlianjent was again assembled ; and Henry, 
in conjunction with the great couucil of the nation, proceeded 
still in those gradual and secure steps, by which they loos- 
ened their connections with the see of Rome, and repressed 
the usurpations of the Roman pontiff. An act was made 
against all appeals to Rome in causes of matrimony, divorces, 
wills, and other suits cognizable in ecclesiastical courts ; ap- 
peals esteemed dishonorable to the kingdom, by subjecting it 
to a foreign jurisdiction ; and found to be very vexatious by the 
expense and the delay of justice which necessarily attended 
them.* The more to show his disregard to the pope, Henry, 
finding the new queen's pregnancy to advance, publicly owned 
his marriage ; and in order to remove all doubts with regard 
to its lawfulness, he prepared measures for declaring, by a 
lormal sentence, the invalidity of his marriage with Catharine : 
a sentence which ought naturally to have preceded his espous- 
ing of Anne.t 

The king, even amidst his scruples and remorses on ac- 
count of his first marriage, had always treated Catharine with 
respect and distinction ; and he endeavored, by every soft and 
persuasive art. to engage her to depart from her appeal to 
Rome, and her opposition to his divorce. Finding her obsti- 
nate in maintaining the justice of her cause, he had totally 
lorborne all visits and intercourse with her ; and had desired 
her to make choice of any one of his palaces, in which she 
should please to reside. She had fixed her abode for some 
time at Amphill, near Dunstable ; and it was in this latter town 
that Cranmer, now created archbishop of Canterbury, on the 
death of Warham ; | was appointed to open his court for exam- 
ining the validity of her marriage. The near neighborhood 
of the place was chosen, in order to deprive her of all plea 
of ignorance ; and as she made no answer to the citation, 
either by herself or proxy, she was declar3d "contumacious ;" 
and the primate proceeded to the examination of the cause. 
The evidences of Arthur's consummation of his marriage 
were anew produced ; the opinions of the universities were 
read, together with the judgment pronounced two years beforo 



* 24 Henry VIII. c. 12. 

t Collier, vol. !i. p. 31, and Records, No. 9 

t See note II. nt 1 lie end ■■ 1 the volume. 



J92 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1533 

by the convocations both of Canterbury and York ; and after 
these preliminary steps, Cranmer proceeded to a sentence, 
and annulled the king's marriage with Catharine as unlawful 
and invalid. By a subsequent sentence, he ratified the mar- 
riage with Anne Boleyn, who soon after was publicly crowned 
queen, with all the pomp and dignity suited to that ceremony.* 
To complete the king's satisfaction on the conclusion of this 
intricate and vexatious afTair, she was safely delivered of a 
daughter, who received the name of Elizabeth, and who after- 
wards swayed the sceptre with such renown and felicity. 
Henry was so much delighted with the birth of this child, that 
soon after he conferred on her the title of princess of Wales, f 
a step somewhat irregular, as she could only be presumptive, 
not apparent heir of the crown. But he had, during his for- 
mer marriage, thought proper to honor his daughter Mary 
with that title ; and he was determined to bestow on the off- 
spring of his present marriage the same mark of distinction, 
as well as to exclude the elder princess from all hopes of the 
succession. His regard for the new queen seemed rather to 
increase than diminish by his marriage; and all men expected 
to see the entire ascendant of one who had mounted a throne 
from which her birth had set her at so great a distance, and 
who, by a proper mixture of severity and indulgence, had 
long managed so intractable a spirit as that of Henry. In 
order to efface as much as possible all marks of his first mar- 
riage, Lord Mountjoy was sent to the unfortunate and divorced 
queen, to inform her, that she was thenceforth to be treated 
only as princess dowager of Wales ; and all means were em- 
ployed to make her acquiesce in that determination. But she 
continued obstinate in maintaining the validity of her mar- 
riage ; and she would admit no person to her presence who 
did not approach her with the accustomed ceremonial. Henry, 
forgetting his wonted generosity towards her, employed men- 
aces against such of her servants as complied with her com- 
mands in this particular ; but was never able to make her 
relinquish her title and pretensions. J 

When intelligence was conveyed to Rome of these transac- 
tions, so injurious to the authority and reputation of the holy 
gee, the conclave was in a rage, and all the cardinals of tho 
imperial faction urged the pope to proceed to a definitive sen- 

* Hcylin, p. 6. t Burnet, vol. i. p. 134. 

t Herbert, p. 326. Burnet, vol. i. p. 132. 



A.. D. 1533. J henky viii. 193 

tenoe, and to dart his spiritual thunders against Henry. But 
Clement proceeded no further than to declare the nullity of 
Cranmer's sentence, as well as that of Henry's second mar- 
riage ; threatening him with excommunication, if before the 
first of November ensuing he did not replace every thing in 
the condition in which it formerly stood.* An event had 
happened from which the pontiff' expected a more amicable 
tonclusion of the difference, and which hindered him from 
carrying matters to extremity against the king. 

The pope had claims upon the duchy of Ferrara for the 
iovereignty of Reggio and Modena ; t and having submitted his 
pretensions to the arbitration of the emperor, he was surprised 
to find a sentence pronounced against him. Enraged at this 
disappointment, he hearkened to proposals of amity from 
Francis ; and when that monarch made overtures of marry- 
ing the duke of Orleans, his second son, to Catharine of Med- 
icis, niece of the pope, Clement gladly embraced an alliance 
by which his family was so much honored. An interview 
was even appointed between the pope and French king at 
Marseilles ; and Francis, as a common friend, there employed 
his good offices in mediating an accommodation between his 
new ally and the king of England. 

Had this connection of France with the court of Rome 
taken place a few years sooner, there had been little difficulty 
in adjusting the quarrel with Henry. The king's request was 
an ordinary one ; and the same plenary power of the pope 
which had granted a dispensation for his espousing of Catha- 
rine, could easily have annulled the marriage. But, in the 
progress of the quarrel, the state of afiairs was much changed 
oiii both sides. Henry had shaken off much of that reverence 
which he had early imbibed for the apostolic see ; and finding 
that his subjects of all ranks had taken part with him, and 
willingly complied with his measures for breaking off foreign 
dependence, he had begun to relish his spiritual authority, and 
would scarcely, it was apprehended, be induced to renew his 
submissions to the Roman ponti'f. The pope, on the other 
hand, now ran a manifest risk of infringing his authority by a 
compliance with the king ; and as a sentence of divorce could 
no longer be rested on nullities in Julius's bull, but would be 
construed as an acknowledgment of papal usurpations, it wan '. 



* he Grand, vol. iii. p. 5G6. 
t Burnet, vol. ii. p. 1 33. Guicciard- 
VOL. III. — I 



94 HISTOK.T OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1534 

foresail that the Lutherans would thence take occasion oi 
triumph, and would persevere more obstinately in their pre-> 
ent principles. But notwithstanding these obstacles, Fratr^is 
did not despair of mediating an agreement He observed that 
the king had still some remains of prejudice in favor o. the 
Catholic church, and was apprehensive of the consequences 
which might ensue from too violent innovations. He saw the 
interest that Clement had in preserving the obedience of Eng- 
land, which was one of the richest jewels in the papal crown. 
And he hoped that these motives on both sides would facilitate 
a mutual agreement, and would forward the effects of his good 
offices. 

[1534.] Francis first prevailed on the pope to promise, 
that if the king would send a proxy to Rome, and thereby 
submit his cause to the holy see, he should appoint commis- 
sioners to meet at Cambray, and form the process ; and he 
should immediately afterwards pronounce the sentence of 
divorce required of him. Bellay, bishop of Paris, was next 
despatched to London, and obtained a promise from the king, 
that he would submit his cause to the Roman consistory, pro 
vided the cardinals of the imperial faction were excluded from 
it. The prelate carried this verbal promise to Rome ; and 
the pope agreed that, if the king would sign a written agree- 
ment to the same purpose, his demands should be fully com- 
plied with. A day was appointed for the return of the mes- 
sengers ; and all Europe regarded this affair, which had 
threatened a violent rupture between England and the Romish 
church, as drawing towards an amicable conclusion.* But 
the greatest affairs often depend on the most frivolous incidents. 
The courier who carried the king's written promise was de- 
tained beyond the day appointed : news was brought to Rome 
that a libel had been published in England against the court 
oi' Rome, and a farce acted before the king in derision of the 
pope and cardinals.! The pope and cardinals entered into 
the consistory inflamed with anger ; and by a precipitate sen- 
tence the marriage of Henry and Catharine was pronounced 
valid, and Henry declared to be excommunicated if he refused 
to adhere to it. Two days after, the courier arrived ; and 
Clement, who had been hurried from his usual prudence, 
lound that though he heartily repented of this hasty measure. 



* Father Paul, lib. i. t Father Pan!, 1 h. i 



A. D. 1534.] henec vm. 19.' 

it would be difficult for him to retract it, or replace affairs op 
the same footing" as before. 

It is not probable that the pope, had he conducted himseli 
with ever so great moderation and temper, could hope, during 
the lifetime of Jienry, to have regained much authority or in- 
fluence in England. That monarch was of a temper both 
impetuous and obstinate ; and having proceeded so far in 
throwing off" the papal yoke, he never could again have been 
brought tamely to bend his neck to it. Even at the time 
when he was negotiating a reconciliation with Rome, he either 
entertained so little hopes of success, or was so indifferent 
about the event, that he had assembled a parliament, and 
continued to enact laws totally destructive of the papal au- 
thority. The people had been prepared by degrees for this 
great innovation. Each preceding session had retrenched 
somewhat from the power and profits of the pontiff. Care 
had been taken, during some years, to teach the nation that 
a general council Avas much superior to a pope. But now a 
bishop preached every Sunday at Paul's Cross, in order to in- 
culcate the doctrine that the pope was entitled to no authoi'ity 
at all beyond the bounds of his own diocese.* The proceedings 
of the parliament showed that they had entirely adopted this 
opinion ; and there is reason to believe that the king, after 
having procured a favorable sentence from Rome, which would 
have removed all doubts with regard to his second marriage 
and the succession, might indeed have lived on terms of civility 
with the Roman pontiff", but never would have surrendered to 
him any considerable share of his assumed prerogative. The 
importance of the laws passed this session, even before intelli- 
gence arrived of the violent resolutions taken at Rome, is suf- 
ficient to justify this opinion. 

All payments made to the apostolic chamber, all pro visions, 
bulls, dispensations, were abolished : monasteries were subjected 
to the visitation and government of the king alone : the law 
tor punishing heretics was moderated : the ordinary was pro- 
hibited from imprisoning or trying any person upon suspicion 
alone, without presentment by two lawful witnesses ; and it 
was declared, that to speak against the pope's authority was 
no heresy : bishops were to be appointed, by a conge d'elire 
fr&m the crown, or, in case of the dean and chapter's refusal, 
by letters patent ; and no recourse was to be had to Roma 

* Burnet, vrl. i. p. 141. 



196 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A D. 1534 

for palls., bulls, or provisions ; Campeggio and Ghinucci, two 
Italians, were deprived of the bishoprics of Salisbury and 
Worcester, which they had hitherto enjoyed : * the law which 
had been formerly made against paying annates or first-fruits, 
but which had been left in the king's power to suspend or 
enforce, was finally established : and a submission which was 
exacted two years before from the clergy, and which had been 
obtained with great difficulty, received this session the sanction 
of parliament. t In this submission, the clergy acknowledged 
that convocations ought to be assembled by the king's authority 
only ; they promised to enact no new canons without his con- 
sent ; and they agree that he should appoint thirty-two com- 
missioners, in order to examine the old canons, and abrogate 
such as should be found prejudicial to his royal prerogative. J 
An appeal was also allowed from the bishop's court to the king 
in chancery. 

But the most important law passed this session was that 
which regulated the succession to the crown : the marriage 
of the king with Catharine was declared unlawful, void, and 
of no effect : the primate's sentence annulling it was ratified : 
and the marriage with Queen Anne was established and con- 
firmed. The crown _was appointed to descend to the issue 
of this marriage, and failing them, to the king's heirs forever. 
An oath likewise was enjoined to be taken in favor of this 
order of succession, under the penalty of imprisonment during 
the king's pleasure, and forfeiture of goods and chattels. And 
all slander against the king, queen, or their issue, was sub- 
jected to the penalty of misprision of treason. After these 
compliances, the parliament was prorogued ; and those acts, 
so contemptuous towards the pope, and so destructive of his 
authority, were passed at the very time that Clement pro- 
nounced his hasty sentence against the king. Henry's resent- 
ment against Queen Catharine, on account of her obstinacy, 
was the reason why he excluded her daughter from all hopes 
of succeeding to the crown ; contrary to his first intentions, 
when he began the process of divorce, and of dispensation for 
a second marriage. 

The king found his ecclesiastical subjects as compliant as 
the laity. The convocation ordered that the act against appeals 
to Rome, together with the king's appeal from the pope to a 

* he Neve's Fasti Eccles. Angl. t 25 Henry VIII. cap. 19. 

t Collier, vol. ii. p. 69, "0- 



AD. H34.J henry vm. 197 

general council, should be affixed to the doors of all the 
churches in the kingdom : and they voted that the bishop oi' 
Rome had, by the law of God, no more jurisdiction in England 
than any other foreign bishop ; and that the authority which ht- 
and his predecessors had there exercised, was only by usurpa 
tion, and by the sufferance of English princes. Four persona 
alons opposed this vote in the lower house, and one doubted. 
It passed unanimously in the upper. The bishops went so fai 
in their complaisance, that they took out new commissions 
from the crown, in which all their spiritual and episcopal 
authority was expressly affirmed to be derived ultimately from 
the civil magistrate, and to be entirely dependent on his good 
pleasure.* 

The oath regarding the succession was generally taken 
throughout the kingdom. Fisher, bishop of Rochester, anH 
Sir Thomas More, were the only persons of note that entei 
tained scruples with regard to its legality. Fisher was obnox 
ious on account of some practices into which his credulkj 
rather than any bad intentions, seems to have betrayed hirn 
But More was the person of greatest reputation in the king 
dom for virtue and integrity ; and as it was believed that his 
authority would have influence on the sentiments of others ; 
great pains were taken to convince him of the lawfulness of 
the oath. He declared that he had no scruple with regard to 
the succession, and thought that the parliament had full powei 
to settle it : he offered to draw an oath himself which would 
insure his allegiance to the heir appointed ; but he refused the 
oath prescribed by law ; because the preamble of that oath 
asserted the legality of the king's marriage with Anne, and 
thereby implied that his former marriage with Catharine was 
unlawful and invalid. Cranmer, the primate, and Cromwell, 
now secretary of state, who highly loved and esteemed More, 
entreated him to lay aside his scruples ; and their friendly 
importunity seemed to weigh more with him than all the 
penalties attending his refusal. t He persisted, however, in a 
mild though firm manner, to maintain his resolution ; and the 
king, irritated against him as well as Fisher, ordered both to 
be indicted upon the statute, and committed prisoners to the 
Tower. 

The parliament, being again assembled, conferred on the 
king the title of the only supreme ' head" on earth of the 

* Colliers Eccles. Hist. vol. ii t Burnet, vol. i. p. 156 



I $8 HISTORY OF ENGLANI \ A. D. 1534 

church of England ; as they had already investea him with all 
the real power belonging to it. In this memorable act, tha 
parliament granted him power, or rather acknowledged his 
inherent power, "to visit, and repress, redress, reform, order, 
correct, restrain, or amend all errors, heresies, abuses, offences, 
contempts, and enormities, which fell under any spiritual 
authority or jurisdiction."* They also declared it treason to 
attempt, imagine, or speak evil against the king, queen, or his 
heirs ; or to endeavor depriving them of their dignities or titles. 
They gave him a right to all the annates and tithes of bene 
flees which had formerly been paid to the court of Rome. 
They granted him a subsidy and a fifteenth. They attainted 
More and Fisher for misprision of treason. And they com- 
pleted the union of England and Wales, by giving to that 
principality all the benefit of the English laws. 

Thus the authority of the popes, like all exorbitant power, 
was ruined by the excess of its acquisitions, and by stretching 
its pretensions beyond what it was possible for any human 
principles or prepossessions to sustain. Indulgences had in 
former ages tended extremely to enrich the holy see ; but being 
openly abused, they served to excite the first commotions and 
opposition in Germany. The prerogative of granting dispen- 
sations had also contributed much to attach all the sovereign 
princes and great families in Europe to the papal authority ; 
but meeting with an unlucky concurrence of circumstances, 
was now the cause why England separated herself from the 
Romish communion. The acknowledgment of the king's 
supremacy introduced there a greater simplicity in the gov- 
ernment, by uniting the spiritual with the civil power, and 
preventing disputes about limits, which never could be exactly 
determined between the contending jurisdictions. A way was 
also prepared for checking the exorbitancies of superstition,, 
and breaking those shackles by which all human reason, policy, 
and industry had so long been encumbered. The prince, it 
may be supposed, being head of the religion, as well as of the 
temporal jurisdiction of the kingdom, though he might some- 
times employ the former as an engine of government, had no 
interest, like the Roman pontiff, in nourishing its excessive 
growth ; and, except when blinded by his own ignorance or 
bigotry, would be sure to retain it within tolerable limits, and 
prevent its abuses. And on the whole, there followed from 

* 26 Henry VIII. cap. i. 



HENRY V11I 1 y& 

this revolution many beneficial consequences ; though perhapt 
neither foreseen nor intended by the persons who had the 
chief hand in conducting it. 

While Henry proceeded with so much order and tranquillity 
in changing thft national religion, and while his authority 
seemed entirely secure in England, he was held in some 
inquietude by the state of affairs in Ireland and in Scotland. 

The earl of Kildare was deputy of Ireland, under the duka 
of Richmond, the king's natural son, who bore the title of 
lieutenant ; and as Kildare was accused of some violences 
against the family of Ossory, his hereditary enemies, he was 
summoned to answer for his conduct. He left his authority in 
the hands of his son, who, hearing that his father was thrown 
into prison, and was in danger of his life, immediately took up 
arms, and joining himself to Oneale, Ocarrol, and other Irish 
nobility, committed many ravages, murdered Allen, archbishop 
of Dublin, and laid siege to the city. Kildare meanwhile died 
in prison ; and his son, persevering in his revolt, made applica- 
tions to the emperor, who promised him assistance. The king 
was obliged to send over some forces to Ireland, which so 
harassed the rebels, that this young nobleman, finding the 
emperor backward in fulfilling his promises, was reduced to 
the necessity of surrendering himself prisoner to Lord Leonard 
Gray, the new deputy, brother to the marquis of Dorset. He 
was carried over to England, together with his five uncles ; 
and after trial and conviction, they were all brought to public 
justice ; though two of the uncles, in order to save the family, 
had pretended to join the king's party. 

The earl of Angus had acquired the entire ascendant in 
Scotland ; and having gotten possession of the king's person, 
their in early youth, he was able, by means of that advantage, 
and by employing the power of his own family, to retain the 
reins of government. The queen dowager, however, his con- 
sort, bred him great disturbance. For having separated her- 
self from him on account of some jealousies and disgusts, and 
having procured a divorce, she had married another man of 
quality, of the name of Stuart ; and she joined all the discon- 
tented nobiiity who opposed Angus's authority. James him 
self was dissatisfied with the slavery to which he was reduced: 
and by secret correspondence he incited first Walter Scot, then 
the earl of Lenox, to attempt by force of arms the freeing him 
from the hands of Angus. Both enterprises failed of success ; 
^ut James, impatient of restraint, found means at last 3f escap 



£00 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. {A. I) 1 fi.'J i 

mg to Stirling, where his mother then resided ; and having 
summoned all the nobility to attend him, he overturned the 
authority of the Douglases, and obliged Angus and his brother 
to fly into England, where they were protected by Henry. 
The king of Scotland, being now arrived at years of majority, 
took the government into his own hands ; and employed him- 
self with great spirit and valor in repressing those feuds, rav- 
ages, and disorders, which, though they disturbed the course 
of public justice, served to support the martial spirit of the 
Scots, and contributed by that means to maintain national 
independence. He was desirous of renewing the ancien* 
league with the French nation ; but finding Francis in closp 
union with England, and on that account somewhat cold iu 
hearkening to his proposals, he received the more favorably 
the advances of the emperor, who hoped, by means of such 
an ally, to breed disturbance to England. He offered the 
Scottish king the choice of three princesses, his own neai 
relations, and all of the name of Mary ; his sister, the dowager 
of Hungary ; his niece, a daughter of Portugal ; or his cousin, 
the daughter of Henry, whom he pretended to dispose of un 
known to her father. James was more inclined to the lattei 
proposal, had it not, upon reflection, been ibund impracticable ; 
and his natural propensity to France at last prevailed over all 
other considerations. The alliance with Francis necessarily 
engaged James to maintain peace with England. But though 
invited by his uncle Henry to confer with him at Newcastle, 
and concert common measures for repressing the ecclesiastics 
in both kingdoms, and shaking off" the yoke of Home, he could 
not be prevailed on, by entering England, to put himself in 
the king's power. In order to have a pretext for refusing the 
conference, he applied to the pope, and obtained a brief, for- 
bidding him to engage in any personal negotiations with an 
snemy of the holy see. From these measures Henry easily 
concluded that he could very little depend on the friendship 
of his nephew. But those events took not place till ioras 
tima after our present period 



A. D. 1534] henry vin. 20 j 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

, HENRY VIII. 

[1534. J The ancient and almost uninterrupted opposition of 
interests between the laity and clergy in England, and between 
the English clergy and the court of Rome, had sufficiently 
prepared the nation for a breach with the sovereign pontiff ; 
and men had penetration enough to discover abuses which 
were plainly calculated for the temporal advantages of the 
hierarchy, and which they found destructive of their own. 
These subjects seemed proportioned to human understanding ; 
and even the people, who felt the power of interest in their 
own breasts, could perceive the purpose of those numerous in- 
ventions which the interested spirit of the Roman pontiff had 
introduced into religion. But when the reformers proceeded 
thence to dispute concerning the nature of the sacraments, 
the operations of grace, the terms of acceptance with the 
Deity, men were thrown into amazement, and were, during 
some time, at a loss how to choose their party. The pro- 
found ignorance in which both the clergy and laity formerly 
lived, and their freedom from theological altercations, had pro- 
duced a sincere but indolent acquiescence in received opinions ; 
and the multitude were neither attached to them by topics 
of reasoning, nor by those prejudices and antipathies against 
opponents, which have ever a more natural and powerful influ- 
ence over them. As soon, therefore, as a new opinion was 
advanced, supported by such an authority as to call up their 
attention, they felt their capacity totally unfitted for such dis- 
quisitions ; and they perpetually fluctuated between the con- 
tending parties. Hence the quick and violent movements by 
which the people were agitated, even in the most opposite 
directions : hence their seeming prostitution, in sacrificing tc 
present power the most sacred principles : and hence the rapid 
progress during some time, and the sudden as well as entire 
check soon after, of the new doctrines. When men were once 
settled in their particular sects, and had fortified themsel /es in 
an habitual detestation of those who were denominate \ hero 



j02 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D.I 534 

tics, they adhered with more ohstinacy to the piinciples of 
their education ; and the limits of the two religions thenceforth 
remained fixed and unchangeable. 

Nothing more forwarded the first progress of the reformers, 
than the offer which they made of submitting all religious doc- 
trines to private judgment, and the summons given every one 
to examine the principles formerly imposed upon him. Though 
the multitude were totally unqualified for this undertaking, 
they yet were highly pleased with it. They fancied that thry 
were exercising their judgment, while they opposed to the 
prejudices of ancient authority more powerful prejudices of 
another kind. The novelty itself of the doctrines ; the pleas 
ure of an imaginary triumph in dispute ; the fervent zeal of 
the reformed preachers ; their patience, and even alacrity, in 
suffering persecution, death, and torments ; a disgust at the 
restraints of the old religion ; an indignation against the tyran 
ny and interested spirit of the ecclesiastics ; these motives were 
prevalent with the people, and by such considerations were 
men so generally induced, during that age, to throw off the 
religion of their ancestors. 

But in proportion as the practice of submitting religion to 
private judgment was acceptable to the people, it appeared in 
some respects dangerous to the righ 's of sovereigns, and seemed 
to destroy that implicit obedience on which the authority of the 
civil magistrate is chiefly founded. The very precedent of 
shaking so ancient and deep-founded an establishment as that 
of the Romish hierarchy, might, it was apprehended, prepare 
the way for other innovations. The republican spirit which 
naturally took place among the reformers, increased this jeal- 
ousy. The furious insurrections of the populace, excited by 
Muncer and other Anabaptists in Germany,* furnished a new 
pretence for decrying the reformation. Nor ought we to con- 
clude, because Protestants in our time prove as dutiful sub- 
jects as those of any other communion, that therefore such ap- 
prehensions were altogether without any shadow of plausibil- 
ity. Though the liberty of private judgment be tendered tc 
the disciples of the reformation, it is not in reality accepted of; 
and men are generally contented to acquiesce implicitly in 
those establishments, howe-er new, into which their early ed- 
ucation has thrown them. 

No prince in Europe was possessed of such absolute 

* Sleidan. lib. iv. and v. 



ID. 1534. J henry vm. 203 

iuthority as Henry, not even the pope himself, in his own 
capital, where he united both the civil and ecclesiastical 
powers,* and there was small likelihood, that any doctrine 
which lay under the imputation of encouraging sedition could 
ever pretend to his favor and countenance. But besides thin 
political jealousy, there was another reason which inspired 
this imperious monarch with an aversion to the reformers. 
He had early declared his sentiments against Luther ; and 
having entered the lists in those scholastic quarrels, he had 
received from his courtiers and theologians infinite applause 
for his performance. Elated by this imaginary success, and 
blinded by a natural arrogance and obstinacy of temper, ho 
had entertained the most lofty opinion of his own erudition ; 
and he received with impatience, mixed with contempt, any 
contradiction to his sentiments. Luther also had been so 
imprudent as to treat in a very indecent manner his royal 
antagonist ; and though he afterwards made the most humble 
submissions to Henry, and apologized for the vehemence of 
his former expressions, he never could efface the hatred 
which the king had conceived against him and his doctrines. 
The idea of heresy still appeared detestable as well as form- 
idable to that prince ; and whilst his resentment against the 
see of Rome had corrected one considerable part of his early 
prejudices, he had made it a point of honor never to relin- 
quish the remainder. Separate as he stood from the Catholic 
church, and from the Roman pontiff, the head of it, he still 
valued himself on maintaining the Catholic doctrine, find on 
guarding, by fire and sword, the imagined purity of his specu- 
lative principles. 

Henry's ministers and courtiers were of as motley a chat 
acter as his conduct; and seemed to waver, during this whole 
reign, between the ancient and the new religion. The queen, 
engaged by interest as well as inclination, favored the cause 
of the reformers : Cromwell, who was created secretary of 
state, and who was daily advancing in the king's confidence, 
had embraced the same views ; and as he was a man of 
prudence and abilities, he was able, very effectually, though 
in a covert manner, to promote the late innovations : Crar» 
mer, archbishop of Canterbury, had secretly adopted the 
Protestant tenets ; and he had gained Henry's friendship by 
his candor and sincerity ; virtues which he possessed in as 

* Sae note I, at the end of the volume. 



SJ04 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D.I 534 

eminent a degree as those times, equally distracted with fac- 
tion and oppressed by tyranny, could easily permit. On the 
other hand, the duke of Norfolk adhered to the ancient faith , 
and by his high rank, as well as by his talents, both for 
peace and war, he had great authority in the king's council : 
Gardiner, lately created bishop of Winchester, had enlisted 
himself in the same party ; and the suppleness of his char 
acter, and dexterity of his conduct, had rendered him ex- 
tremely useful to it. 

All these ministers, while they stood in the most irrecon- 
cilable opposition of principles to each other, were obliged to 
disguise their particular opinions, and to pretend an entire 
agreement with the sentiments of their master. Cromwell 
and Cranmer still carried the appearance of a conformity to 
the ancient speculative tenets ; but they artfully made use 
of Henry's resentment to widen the breach with the see of 
Rome. Norfolk and Gardiner feigned an assent to the king's 
supremacy, and to his renunciation of the sovereign pontiff; 
but they encouraged his passion for the Catholic faith, and 
instigated him to punish those daring heretics who had pre- 
sumed to reject his theological principles. Both sides hoped, 
by their unlimited compliance, to bring him over to their 
party : the king, meanwhile, who held the balance between 
the factions, was enabled, by the courtship paid him both by 
Protestants and Catholics, to assume an unbounded authority : 
and though in all his measures he was really driven by his 
ungoverned humor, he casually steered a course which led 
more certainly to arbitrary power, than any which the most 
profound politics could have traced out to him. Artifice, 
refinement, and hypocrisy, in his situation, would have put 
both parties on their guard against him, and would have 
taught them reserve in complying with a monarch whom 
they could never hope thoroughly to have gained : but while 
the frankness, sincerity, and openness of Henry's tempei 
were generally known, as well as the dominion of his furious 
passions, each side dreaded to lose him by the smal'est 
opposition, and flattered themselves that a blind compliance 
with his will would throw him cordially and fully into theii 
iaterests 

The ambiguity of the king's conduct, though it kept the 
courtiers in awe, served, in the main, to encourage the Prot- 
estant doctrine among his subjects, and promoted that spirit 
of innovation with which the age was generally seized, and 



A. D. 1534.1 henry vm. 204 

which nothing: but an entire uniformity, as Avell as a ste-idy 
severity in the administration, could be able to repress. 
There were some Englishmen, Tindal, Joye, Constantine, 
and others, who, dreading the exertion of the king's authority, 
had fled to Antwerp ; * where the great privileges possessed 
by the Low Country provinces served, during some time, to 
give them protection. These men employed themselves in 
writing English books against the corruptions of the chuicb 
of Rome ; against images, relics, pilgrimages ; and they ex- 
cited the curiosity of men with regard to that question, tho 
most important in theology, the terms of acceptance with tho 
Supreme Being. In conformity to the Lutherans and other 
Protestants, they asserted, that salvation was obtained by faith 
alone ; and that the most infallible road to perdition t was a 
reliance on "good works;" by which terms they understood, 
as well the moral duties, as the ceremonial and monastic 
observances. The defenders of the ancient religion, on the 
other hand, maintained the efficacy of good works ; but 
though they did not exclude from this appellation the social 
virtues, it was still the superstitions gainful to the church 
which they chiefly extolled and recommended. The books 
composed by these fugitives, having stolen over to England, 
began to make converts every where ; but it was a translation 
of the Scriptures by Tindal, that was esteemed the most dan- 
gerous to the established faith. The first edition of this work, 
composed with little accuracy, was found liable to consider- 
able objections ; and Tindal, who was poor, and could not 
afford to lose a great part of the impression, was longing for 
an opportunity of correcting his errors, of which he had been 
made sensible. Tonstal, then bishop of London, soon after 
of Durham, a man of great moderation, being desirous to 
discourage, in the gentlest manner, these innovations, gave 
private orders for buying up all the copies that could be found 
at Antwerp ; and he burned them publicly in Cheapside. By 
this measure he supplied Tindal with money, enabled him tc 
print a new and correct edition of his work, and gave great 



* Burnet, vol. i. p. 159. 

t Sacrilegium est et impietas velle placere Deo per opera et non 
per solem tidem. Luther adversus regem. Ita vides quam dives sit 
homo Christianus sive baptizatus, qui etiara volens non potest perdere 
salutem suani quantiscunque peecatis. Nulla eiiim peccata possunt 
eura damnare nisi incredulitas. Id. de Captivitatc Babylon) ci 



80b HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1534 

scandal to the people, in thus committing to the flames the 
word of God.* 

The disciples of the reformation met with little severity 
during the ministry of Wolsey, who, though himself a clergy 
man, bore too small a regard to the ecclesiastical order to 
serve as au instrument of their tyranny : it was even an 
article of impeachment against him, t that by his connivance 
he had encouraged the growth of heresy, and that he had 
protected and acquitted some notorious offenders. Sir Thomas 
More, who succeeded Wolsey as chancellor, is at once an 
object deserving our compassion, and an instance of the usual 
progress of men's sentiments during that age. This man, 
whose elegant genius and familiar acquaintance with the noble 
spirit of antiquity had given him very enlarged sentiments, 
and who had in his early years advanced principles which 
even at present would be deemed somewhat too free, had, in 
the course of events, been so irritated by polemics, and thrown 
into such a superstitious attachment to the ancient faith, that 
few inquisitors have been guilty of greater violence in their 
prosecution of heresy. Though adorned with the gentlest 
manners, as well as the purest integrity, he carried to the 
utmost height his aversion to heterodoxy ; and James Bain- 
ham, in particular, a gentleman of the Temple, experienced 
from him the greatest severity. Bainham, accused of favoring 
the new opinions, was carried to More's house ; and having 
refused to discover his accomplices, the chancellor ordered 
him to be whipped in his presence, and afterwards sent hint 
to the Tower, where he himself saw him put to the torture. 
The unhappy gentleman, overcome by all these severities, 
abjured his opinions; but feeling afterwards the deepest com- 
punction for his apostasy, he openly returned to his former 
tenets, and even courted the crown of martyrdom. He was 
condemned as an obstinate and relapsed heretic, and was 
burned in Smithfield. $ 

Many were brought into the bishops' courts for offences 
which appear trivial, but which were regarded as symbols of 
the party : some for teaching their children the Lord's prayer 
in English ; others for reading the New Testament in that 
language, or for speaking against pilgrimages. To harbor 

* Hall, fol. 186. Fox, vol. i. p. 138. Burnet, vol. i. p 159. 
1 Articles of impeachment in Herbert. Burnet. 
i Fox. Burnet, vol. i. p. 165. 



A. D. 1534.] UENRf vm. 207 

the persecuted preachers, to neglect the fasts of the church, 
to declaim against the vices of the clergy, were capital of 
fences. One Thomas Bilney, a priest, who had embraced the 
new doctrine, had been terrified into an abjuration; but was 
so haunted by remorse, that his friends dreaded some fatal 
effects of his despair. At last, his mind seemed to be more 
relieved ; but this appearing calm proceeded only from the 
resolution which he had taken of expiating his past offence 
by an open confession of the truth, and by dying a martyr to 
it. He went through Norfolk, teaching the people to beware 
of idolatry, and of trusting for their salvation either to pil- 
grimages, or to tiie cowl of St. Francis, to the prayers of 
the saints, or to images. He was soon seized, tried in the 
bishop's court, and condemned as a relapsed heretic ; and the 
writ was sent down to burn him. When brought to the stake, 
he discovered such patience, fortitude, and devotion, that the 
spectators were much affected with the horrors of his punish- 
ment ; and some mendicant friars who were present, fearing 
that his martyrdom would be imputed to them, and make them 
lose those alms which they received from the charity of the 
people, desired him publicly to acquit them* of having any 
hand in his death. He willingly complied; and by this meek- 
ness gained the more on the sympathy of the people. Another 
person, still more heroic, being brought to the stake for de- 
nying the real presence, seemed almost in a transport of joy ; 
and he tenderly embraced the fagots which were to be the 
instruments of his punishment, as the means of procuring 
him eternal rest. In short, the tide turning towards the new 
doctrine, those severe executions, which, in another disposi- 
tion of men's minds, would have sufficed to suppress it, now 
served only to diffuse it the more among the people, and to 
inspire them with horror against the unrelenting persecutors. 

But though Henry neglected not to punish the Protestant 
doctrine, which he deemed heresy, his most formidable ene- 
mies, he knew, were the zealous adherents to the ancient 
religion, chiefly the monks, who, having their immediate de- 
pendence on the Roman pontiff, apprehended their own ruin 
io be the certain consequence of abolishing his authority in 
England. Peyto, a friar, preaching before the king, had the 
'assurance to tell him, "that many lying prophets had deceived 
him ; but he, as a true Micajah, warned him, that /.he dog* 

* Burnet, vol. i. u. 1G4. 



206 E&.3TORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1534 

would lick his blood, as they had done Ahab's." * The king 
took no notice of the insult ; but allowed the preacher to 
depart in peace. Next Sunday he employed Dr. Corren to 
preach before him ; who justified the king's proceedings, and 
gave Peyto the appellations of a rebel, a slanderer, a dog, 
and a traitor. Elston, another friar of the same house, inter- 
rupted the preacher, and told him that he was one of the 
lying prophets, who sought to establish by adultery the suc- 
cession of the crown ; but that he himself would justify all 
that Peyto had said. Henry silenced the petulant friar ; but 
showed no other mark of resentment than ordering Peyto and 
him to be summoned before the council, and to be rebuked 
tor their offence. t He even here bore patiently some new 
instances of their obstinacy and arrogance : when the earl of 
Essex, a privy councillor, told them that they deserved for 
their offence to be thrown into the Thames, Elston replied, 
that the road to heaven lay as near by water as by land, t 

But several monks were detected in a conspiracy, which, as 
it might have proved more dangerous to the king, was on its 
discovery attended with more fatal consequences to themselves. 
Elizabeth Barton, of Aldington, in Kent, commonly called 
the "holy maid of Kent," had been subject to hysterical fits, 
which threw her body into unusual convulsions; and having 
produced an equal disorder in her mind, made her utter strange 
sayings, which, as she was scarcely conscious of them during 
the time, had soon after entirely escaped her memory. The 
Billy people in the neighborhood were struck with these 
appearances, which they imagined to be supernatural ; and 
Richard Masters, vicar of the parish, a designing fellow, 
founded on them a project, from which he hoped to acquire 
both profit and consideration. He went to Warham, archbishop 
of Canterbury, then alive ; and having given him an account 
of Elizabeth's revelations, he so far wrought on that prudent 
but superstitious prelate, as to receive orders from him to 
watch her in her trances, and carefully to note down all her 
future sayings. The regard paid her by a person of so high 
a rank, soon rendered her still more the object of attention to 
the neighborhood ; and it was easy for Masters to persuade 
them, as well as the maid herself, that her ravings were inspi 



* Strype, vol. i. p. 167. 

t Collier, vol. ii. p. 86. Burnet, vol. i. p. 151. 

$ Stowe, p. 5C2 



A. D. 1534. J henry vm. 20* 

rations of the Holy Ghost. Knavery, as is usual, soon after 
succeeding to delusion, she learned to counterfeit trances ; 
and she then uttered, in an extraordinary tone, such speeches 
as were dictated to her by her spiritual director. Masters 
associated with him Dr. Booking, a canon of Canterbury ; 
and their design was to raise the credit of an image of the 
Virgiu which stood in a chapel belonging to Masters, and to 
draw to it such pilgrimages as usually frequented the more 
famous images and relics. In prosecution of this design, 
Elizabeth pretended revelations which directed her to have 
recourse to that image for a cure ; and being brought before 
it, in the presence of a great multitude, she fell anew into 
convulsions ; and after distorting her limbs and countenance 
during a competent time, she affected to have obtained a per- 
fect recovery by the intercession of the Virgin.* This miracle 
was soon bruited abroad ; and the two priests, finding the im- 
posture to succeed beyond their own expectations, began to 
extend their views, and to lay the foundation of more import 
ant enterprises. They taught their penitent to declaim against 
the new doctrines, which she denominated heresy ; against in- 
novations in ecclesiastical government ; and against the king's 
intended divorce from Catharine. She went so far as to as- 
sert, that if he prosecuted that design, and married another, 
he should not be a king a month longer, and should not an 
hour longer enjoy the favor of the Almighty, but should die 
the death oi a villain. Many monks throughout England, 
either from folly or roguery, or from faction, which is often 
a complication of both, entered into the delusion ; and one 
Deering, a friar, wrote a book of the revelations and prophe- 
cies of Elizabeth.! Miracles were daily added to increase the 
wonder ; and the pulpit every where resounded with accounts 
of the sanctity and inspirations of the new prophetess Mes- 
sages were carried from her to Queen Catharine, b/ which 
that princess was exhorted to persist in her opposition to the 
divorce ; the pope's ambassadors gave encouragement to the 
popular credulity; and even Fisher, bishop of .R&ehvster, 
though a man of sense and learning, was carried s.w,ty by 
sr. opinion so favorable to the party which he had erased. $ 
Tne king at last began to think the matter worthy j{ ins at- 
tention ; and having ordered Elizabeth and her ac/3<..<nplice* 

* Stowe, p. 570. Blanquet's Epitome of Chronicles. 
* Strype. vol i.p. 181. t Collier, vol u. p. 8~ 



410 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. lo35 

to hi arrosted, he brought th.3m before the star-chamber 
where they freely, without being put to the torture, mada 
confession of their guilt. The parliament, in the session held 
the beginning of this year, passed an act of attainder against 
Eome who were engaged in this treasonable imposture;* 
and Elizabeth herself, Masters, Booking, Deering, Rich, Ris- 
by, Gold, suffered for their crime. The bishop of Roches- 
ter, Abel, Addison, Lawrence, and others were condemned 
for misprision of treason ; because they had not discovered 
Borne criminal speeches which they heard from Elizabeth;! 
and they were thrown into prison. The better to undeceive 
the multitude, the forgery of many of th r ; prophetess's mira- 
cles was detected ; and even the scandalous prostitution of 
her manners was laid open to the public. Those passions 
which so naturally insinuate themselves amidst the warm 
intimacies maintained by the devotees of different sexes, had 
taken place between Elizabeth and her confederates ; and it 
was found that a door to her dormitory, which was said to 
have been miraculously opened, in order to give her access to 
the chapel, for the sake of frequent converse with Heaven, 
had been contrived by Booking and Masters for less refined 
purposes. 

[I60O.] The detection of this imposture, attended with 
so many odious circumstances, both hurt the credit of the 
ecclesiastics, particularly the monks, and instigated the king 
to take vengeance on them. He suppressed three monaste- 
ries of the Observantine friars ; and finding that little clamor 
was excited by this act of power, he was the more encouraged 
to lay his rapacious hands on the remainder. Meanwhile 
he exercised punishment on individuals who were obnoxious 
to him. The parliament had made it treason to endeavor 
depriving the king of his dignity or titles : they had lately 
added to his other titles, that of supreme head of the church . 
it was inferred, that to deny his supremacy was treason ; 
and many priors and ecclesiastics lost their lives for this 
new species of guilt. It was certainly a high instance of 
tyranny to punish the mere delivery of a political opinion, 
especially one that nowise affected the king's temporal right, 
as a capital offence, though attended with no overt act : and 
the parliament, in passing this law, had overlooker- all the 

* 25 Henry VIII. ca;i. 12 Burnet, vol. i. p. 149. Hall fol. 7)Q. 
t Godwin's Annals, p. 53 



A. P. l/Vd.Y- HENRY vim: 21} 

principles by which a civilized, much morb a free people, 
should be governed : but the violence of changing so suddenly 
the whole system of government, and making it treason to 
deny what during many ages it had been heresy to assert, 
is au event which may appear somewhat extraordinary. 
Even the stern, unrelenting mind of Henry was at first 
shocked with these sanguinary measures ; and he went so 
far as to change his garb and dress ; pretending sorrow for 
the necessity by which he was pushed to such extremities. 
Still impelled, however, by his violent temper, and desirous 
of striking a terror into the whole nation, he proceeded, by 
making examples of Fisher and More, to consummate his 
lawless tyranny. 

John Fisher, bishop of Rochester, was a prelate emin(*it 
for learning and morals, still more than for his ecclesiastical 
dignities, and for the high favor which he had long enjoyed 
with the king. When he was thrown into prison, on account 
of his refusing the oath which regarded the succession, and 
his concealment of Elizabeth Barton's treasonable speeches, 
he had not only been deprived of all his revenues, but stripped 
of his very clothes, and, without consideration of his extreme 
age, he was allowed nothing but rags, which scarcely sufficed 
to cover his nakedness.* In this condition he lay in prison above 
a twelvemonth ; when the pope, willing to recompense th^ 
sufferings of so faithful an adherent, created him a cardinal ; 
though Fisher was so indifferent about that dignity, that, even 
if the purple were lying at his feet, he declared that he would 
not stoop to take it. This promotion of a man merely for his 
opposition to royal authority, roused the indignation of the 
king ; and he resolved to make the innocent person feel the 
effects of his resentment. Fisher was indicted for denying 
the kings supremacy, was tried, condemned, and beheaded. 

The execution of this prelate was intended as a warning to 
More, whose compliance, on account of his great authority 
both abroad and at home, and his high reputation for learning 
and virtue, was anxiously desired by the king. That prince 
also bore as great personal affection and regard to More, as 
his imperious mind, the sport of passions, was susceptible of 
towards a man who in any particular opposed his violent 
inclinations. But More could never be prevailed on to 
acknowledge auy opinion so contrary to his principles as that 

* Fuller's Church Hist, book v. p. 203. 



2V4 HISTORY JF ENGLAND. [A.D. 153& 

of the king's supremacy ; and though Henry exacted th i* 
compliance from the whole nation, there was as yet no lav» 
obliging any one to take an oath to that purpose. Rich, the 
solicitor-general, was sent to confer with More, then a prisonei , 
who kept a cautious silence with regard to the supremacy : 
he was only inveigled to say, that any question with regard to 
the law which established that prerogative was a two-edge*.'. 
Bword ; if a person answer one way, it will confound his soul , 
if another, it will destroy his body. No more was wanted to 
found an indictment of high treason against the prisoner. His 
silence was called malicious, and made a part of his crime ; 
and these words, which had casually dropped from him, were 
interpreted as a denial of the supremacy.* Trials were mere 
formalities during this reign : the jury gave sentence against 
More, who had long expected this fate, and who needed no 
preparation to fortify him against the terrors of death. Not 
only his constancy, but even his cheerfulness, nay, his usual 
facetiousness, never forsook him; and he made a sacrifice of 
his life to his integrity, with the same indifference that hj 
maintained in any ordinary occurrence. When he was 
mounting the scaffold, he said to one, " Friend, help me up ; 
and when I come down again, let me shift for myself." The 
executioner asking him forgiveness, he granted the request, 
but told him, " You will never get credit by beheading me, 
uiy neck is so short." Then laying his head on the block, he 
bade the executioner stay till he- put aside his beard : " For," 
said he, " it never committed treason." Nothing was want- 
ing to the glory of this end, except a better cause, more free 
from weakness and superstition. But as the man followed his 
principles and sense of duty, however misguided, his constancy 
and integrity are not the less objects of our admiration. He 
was beheaded in the fifty-third year of his age. 

When the execution of Fisher and More was reported at 
Rome, especially that of the former, who was invested with the 
dignity of cardinal, every one discovered the most violent rage 
against the king ; and numerous libels were published by the 
wits and orators of Italy, comparing him to Caligula, Nero, 
Domitian, and all the most unrelenting tyrants of antiquity. 
Clement VII. had died about six months after he pronounced 
sentence against the king; and Paul III., of the name of Far- 
oese, had succeeded to the papal throne. This pontiff, who. 



* More's life of Sir Thomas More. Herbert, p. 



A..JD. 1535.] HENRY VIII 212 

while cardinal, had always favored Henry's cause, hau hoped 
that personal animosities being buried with his predecessor, it 
might not be impossible to form an agreement with England : 
and the king himself was so desirous of accommodating mat 
ters, that in a negotiation which he entered into with Francis 
a little before this time, he required that that monarch should 
conciliate a friendship between him and the court of Rome. 
But Henry was accustomed to prescribe, not to receive terms ; 
and even when he was negotiating for peace, his usual violence 
often carried him to commit offences which rendered the quar- 
rel totally incurable. The execution of Fisher was regarded 
by Paul as so capital an injury, that he immediately passed 
censures against the king, citing him and all his adherents to 
appear in Rome within ninety days, in order to answer for 
their crimes : if they failed, he excommunicated them ; deprived 
the king of his crown ; laid the kingdom under an interdict ; 
declared his issue by Anne Boleyn illegitimate ; dissolved all 
leagues wdiich any Catholic princes had made with him ; gave 
his kingdom to any invader ; commanded the nobility to take 
arms against him ; freed his subjects from all oaths of alle- 
giance ; cut off their commerce with foreign states ; and de- 
clared it lawful for any one to seize them, to make slaves of 
their persons, and to convert their effects to his own use.* But 
though these censures were passed, they were not at that time 
openly denounced ; the pope delayed the publication till he 
should find an agreement with England entirely desperate ; 
and till the emperor, who was at that time hard pressed by 
the Turks and the Protestant princes in Germany, should be 
in a condition to carry the sentence into execution. 

The king knew that he might expect any injury which it 
should be in Charles's power to inflict ; and he therefore made 
it the chief object of his policy to incapacitate that monarch 
from wreaking his resentment upon him.t He renewed his 
friendship with Francis, and opened negotiations for marrying 
his infant daughter, Elizabeth, with the duke of Angouleme, 
third son of Francis. These two monarchs also made advances 
to the princes of the Protestant league in Germany, ever jeal- 
ous of the emperor's ambition ; and Henry, besides remitting 
them some money, sent Fox, bishop of Hereford, as Francis 
did Bellay, lord of Langley, to treat with them. But during 
the first iervors of the reformation, an agreement in theologi- 

* Sanders, p, MS t Herbert, p. 350. 351. 



214 HISTORS" OF ENGLAND. [AD. 1536 

cal tenets was held, as well as a union of interests, to b« 
essential to a good correspondence among states ; and though 
both Francis and Henry flattered the German princes with 
hopes of their embracing the confession of Augsbourg, it waa 
looked upon as a bad symptom of their sincerity, that they 
exercised such extreme rigor against all preachers of the refor- 
mation in their respective dominions.* Henry carried the feint 
so far, that, Avhile he thought himself the first theologian in 
the world, he yet invited over Melancthon, Bucer, Sturmius, 
Draco, and other German divines, that they might confer 
with him, and instruct him in the foundation of their tenets. 
These theologians were now of gi-eat importance in the world ; 
and no poet or philosopher, even in ancient Greece, where 
they were treated with most respect, had ever reached equal 
applause and admiration with those wretched composers of 
metaphysical polemics. The German princes told the king, 
that they could not spare their divines ; and as Henry had no 
hopes of agreement with such zealous disputants, and knew 
that in Germany the followers of Luther would not associate 
with the disciples of Zuinglius, because, though they agreed 
in every thing else, they differed in some minute particulars 
with regard to the eucharist, he was the more indifferent on 
account of this refusal. He could also foresee, that Oven while 
the league of Smalcalde did not act in concert with him, they 
would always be carried by their interests to oppose the em- 
peror : and the hatred between Francis and that monarch 
was so inveterate, that he deemed himself sure of a sincere 
ally in one or other of these potentates. 

[1536.] During these negotiations, an incident happened 
in England which promised a more amicable conclusion of 
those disputes, and seemed even to open the way for a recon- 
ciliation between Henry and Charles. Queen Catharine was 
seized with a lingering illness, which at last brought her to 
her grave ; she died at Kimbolton, in the county of Hunting- 
don, in the fiftieth year of her age. A little before she expired, 
she wrote a very tender letter to the king, in which she gave 
him the appellation of " her most dear lord, king, and hus- 
band." She told him that as the hour of her death was now 
approaching, she laid hold of this last opportunity to inculcate 
on him the importance of his religious duty, and the compara- 
tive emptiness of all human grandeur and enjoyment ; that 



* Sleidan, lib 10 



A.i). 15,"6.j henry vni. 21fi 

though his fondness towards these perishable advantages had 
thrown her into many calamities, as well as created to himself 
much trouble, she yet forgave him all past injuries, and hoped 
that his pardon would be ratified in Heaven; and that shu 
had no other request to make, than to recommend to him his 
daughter, the sole pledge of their loves ; and to crave his pro- 
tection for her maids and servants. She concluded with these 
words : " I make this vow, that mine eyes desire you above 
all things."* The king was touched, even to the shedding 
of tears, by this last tender proof of Catharine's affection ; but 
Queen Anne is said to have expressed her joy for the death 
of a rival beyond what decency or humanity could permit. t 

The emperor thought that, as the demise of his aunt had 
removed all foundation of personal animosity between him and 
Henry, it might not now be impossible to detach him from the 
alliance of France, and to renew his own confederacy with 
England, from which he had formerly reaped so much advan- 
tage. He sent Henry proposals for a return to ancient amity, 
upon these conditions : $ that he should be reconciled to the 
see of Rome, that he should assist him in his war with the 
Turk, and that he should take part with him against Francis, 
who now threatened the duchy of Milan. The king replied, 
that he was willing to be on good terms with the emperor, 
provided that prince would acknowledge that the former breach 
of friendship came entirely from himself: as to the conditions 
proposed, the proceedings against the bishop of Rome were 
so just, and so fully ratified by the parliament of England, 
that they could not now be revoked ; when Christian princes 
should have settled peace among themselves, he would not fail 
to exert that vigor which became him, against the enemies of 
the faith ; and after amity with the emperor was once fully 
restored, he should then be in a situation, as a common friend 
both to him and Francis, either to mediate an agreement be- 
tween them, or to assist the injured party. 

What rendered Henry more indifferent to the advances made 
by the emperor was, both his experience of the usual duplicity 
and insincerity of that monarch, and the intelligence which 
he received of the present transactions in Europe. Francis 
Sforza, duke of Milan, had died without issue ; and the em- 
peror maintained that the duchy, being a fief of the empire, 



* Herbert, p. 403. t Burnet, vol. i. p. 192. 

i Du Bellai, liv. v. Herbert. Burnet, vol. iii. in Coll. No. 50. 



216 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1535 

was devolved to him, as head of the Germanic hody : not to 
give umbrage, however, to the states of Italy, he professed hia 
intention of bestowing that principality on some prince who 
should be obnoxious to no party, and he even made offer of it 
to the duke of Angouleme, third son of Francis. The French 
monarch, who pretended that his own right to Milan was now 
revived upon Sforza's death, was content to substitute hii 
Eecond son, the duke of Orleans, in his place ; and the emperor 
pretended to close with his proposal. But his sole intention 
in that liberal concession was to gain time, till he should put 
himself in a warlike posture, and be able to carry an invasion 
into Francis's dominions. The ancient enmity between these 
princes broke out anew in bravadoes, and in personal insults 
on each other, ill becoming persons of their rank, and still less 
suitable to men of such unquestioned bravery. Charles soon 
after invaded Provence in person, with an army of fifty thou 
sand men ; but met with no success. His army perished with 
sickness, fatigue, famine, and other disasters ; and he was 
obliged to raise the siege of Marseilles, and retire into Italy 
with the broken remains of his forces. An army of imperial- 
ists, near thirty thousand strong, which invaded France on the 
6ide of the Netherlands, and laid siege to Peronne, made no 
greater progress, but retired upon the approach of a French 
army. And Henry had thus the satisfaction to find, both that 
his ally Francis was likely to support himself without foreign 
assistance, and that his own tranquillity was fully insured by 
these violent wars and animosities on the continent. 

If any inquietude remained with the English court, it waa 
solely occasioned by the state of affairs in Scotland. James, 
hearing of the dangerous situation of his ally Francis, gener- 
ously levied some fox-ces ; and embarking them on board ves- 
sels which he had hired for that purpose, landed them safely 
in France. He even went over in person ; and making haste 
to join the camp of the French king, which then lay in Pro- 
vence, and to partake of his danger, he met that prince at 
Lyons, who, having repulsed the emperor, was now returning 
to his capital. Recommended by so agreeable and seasonable 
an instance of friendship, the king of Scots paid his addresses 
to Magdalen, daughter of the French monarch ; and this 
prince had no other objection to the match than what arose 
from the infirm state of his daughter's health, which seemed 
to threaten her with an approaching end. But James having 
gained the affections of the princess, and obtained her consent. 



A. D. 1536.] HENRY VI u. 217 

the father would no longer oppose the united desires of Ma 
daughter and his friend : they were accordingly married, anu 
Boon after set sail for Scotland, where the young queen, as 
was foreseen, died in a little time after her arrival. Francis, 
however, was afraid lest his ally Henry, whom he likewise 
looked on as his friend, and who lived with him on a more 
cordial footing than is usual among great princes, should bo 
displeased that this close confederacy between France and 
Scotland was concluded without his participation. He there- 
fore despatched Pommeraye to London, in order to apologize 
for this measure ; but Henry, with his usual openness and 
freedom, expressed such displeasure, that he refused even to 
confer with the ambassador ; and Francis was apprehensive 
of a rupture with a prince who regulated his measures more 
by humor and passion than by the lules of political prudence. 
But the king was so fettered by the opposition in which he was 
engaged against the pope and the emperor, that he pursued 
no further this disgust against Francis ; and in the end, every 
thing remained in tranquillity both on the side of France and 
of Scotland. 

The domestic peace of England seemed to be exposed to 
more hazard by the violent innovations in religion; and it may 
be affirmed that, in this dangerous conjuncture, nothing insured 
public tranquillity so much as the decisive authority acquired 
by the king, and his great ascendant over all his subjects. 
Not only the devotion paid to the crown was profound during 
that age : the personal respect inspired by Henry was consid- 
erable ; and even the terrors with which he overawed every 
one, were not attended with any considerable degree of hatred. 
His frankness, his sincerity, his magnificence, his generosity, 
were virtues which counterbalanced his violence, cruelty, and 
impetuosity. And the important rank which his vigor, more 
than his address, acquired him in all foreign negotiations, 
flattered the vanity of Englishmen, and made them the more 
willingly endure those domestic hardships to which they were 
exposed. The king, conscious of his advantages, was now 
proceeding to the most dangerous exercise of his authority ; 
and after paving the way for that measure by several prepar- 
atory expedients, he was at last determined to suppress the, 
monasteries, and to put himself in possession of their ample';, 
revenues. 

The great increase of monasteries, if matters be considered 
merely in a political light, will appear the radical inconve- 
vox. in. — K 



218 UISiOr.7 OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1 536 

mence of the Catholic religion ; and every other disadvantage 
attending that communion seems to have an inseparable con 
ncction with these religious institutions. Papal usurpations, 
the tyranny of the inquisition, the multiplicity of holidays ; 
all these fetters on liberty and industry were ultimately de- 
rived from the authority and insinuation of monks, whose 
habitations, being established every where, proved so many 
seminaries of superstition and of folly. This order of men 
was extremely enraged against Henry, and regarded the 
abolition of the papal authority in England is the removal 
of the sole protection which they enjoyed against the rapacity 
of the crown and of the courtiers. They were now subjected 
to the king's visitation ; the supposed sacredness of their bulls 
from Rome was rejected ; the progress of the reformation 
abroad, which had every where been attended with the aboli- 
tion of the monastic orders, g^ve them reason to apprehend 
like consequences in England ; ?nd though the king still main- 
tained the doctrine of purgatovy, to which most of the con- 
vents owed their origin and support, it was foreseen, that, in 
the progress of the contest, he would every day be led to 
depart wider from ancient instita tions, and be drawn nearer 
the tenets of the reformers, with whom his political interests 
naturally induced him to' unite. Moved by these considera- 
tions, the friars employed all thek influence to inflame the 
people against the king's government ; and Henry, finding 
their safety irreconcilable with his ewn, was determined to 
seize the present opportunity, and utterly destroy his declared 
enemies. 

Cromwell, secretary of state, had been appointed vicar- 
general, or vicegerent, a new office, by which the king's 
supremacy, or the absolute uncontrollable power assumed 
over the church, was delegated to him. He employed Lay- 
ton, London, Price, Gage, Petre, Bellasis, and others, as com- 
missioners who carried on every where a rigorous inquiry 
with regard to the conduct and deportment rt all the friars. 
During times of faction, especially of the rebgious kind, no 
equity is to be expected from adversaries ; and as it was 
known, that the king's intention in this visitation was to find 
a pretence for abolishing monasteries, we may naturally con- 
clude, that the reports of the commissioners are very little to 
be relied on. Friars were encouraged to bring in >u formations 
against their brethern : the slightest evidence was crediJqt) 
and even the calumnies spread abroad by the friends -at' i'oe 



A.D. lo3b.j henri vm. 219 

reformation, wore regarded as grounds 0/ proof. Monstrous 
disorders are therefore said to have heen found in many of 
the religious houses ; whole convents of women abandoned to 
lewdness ; signs of abortions procured, of infants murdered, 
of unnatural lusts between persons of the same sex. It is 
indeed probable, that the blind submission of the people, 
during those ages, would render the friars and nuns more 
unguarded and more dissolute than they are in any Roman 
Catholic country at present ; but still the reproaches, which it 
is safest to credit, are such as point at vices naturally con- 
nected with the very institution of convents, and with the 
monastic life. The cruel and inveterate factions and quarrels, 
therefore, which the commissioners mentioned, are very cred- 
ible among men, who, being confined together within the same 
walls, never can forget their mutual animosities, and who, 
being cut oft* from all the most endearing connections of 
.nature, are commonly cursed with hearts more selfish, and 
■tempers more unrelenting, than fall to the share of other men. 
The pious frauds practised to increase the devotion and liber- 
ality of the people, may be regarded as certain, in an order 
founded on illusions, lies, and superstition. The supine idle- 
ness also, and its attendant, profound ignorance, with Avhicl 
the convents were reproached, admit of no question ; anu 
though monks were the true preservers, as well as inventors, 
of the dreaming and captious philosophy of the schools, no. 
manly or elegant knowledge could be expected among men, 
whose lives, condemned to a tedious uniformity, and deprived 
of all emulation, afforded nothing to raise the mind or culti- 
vate the genius. 

Some few monasteries, terrified with this rigorous inquisi- 
tion carried on by Cromwell and his commissioners, surren- 
dered their revenues into the king's hands ; and the monka 
received small pensions as the reward of their obsequiousness. 
Oi'ders were given to dismiss such nuns and friars as were 
below four-and-twenty, whose vows were, on that account, 
supposed not to be binding. The doors of the convents were 
opened, even to such as were above that age ; and every one 
recovered his liberty who desired it. But as all these expedi- 
ents did not fully answer the king's purpose, he had recourse 
to his usual instrument of power, the parliament ; and in order 
to prepare men for the innovations projected, the report of the 
visitors was published, and a general horror was endeavored 
to be excited in the nation against institutions, which, to theii 



220 HISTORY CV ENGLAND. [A. D. 1536. 

ancestors, had beon the objects of the most profound ven 
eration. 

The king, though determined utterly to abolish the monastic 
order, resolved to proceed gradually in this great work; and 
he gave directions to the parliament to go no further, at present, 
than to suppress the lesser monasteries, which possessed reve- 
nues below two hundred pounds a year.* These were found 
to be the most corrupted, as lying less under the restraint of 
shame, and being exposed to less scrutiny ; t and it was deemed 
safest to begin with them, and thereby prepare the way for the 
greater innovations projected. By this act three hundred and 
seventy-six monasteries were suppressed, and their revenues, 
amounting to thirty-two thousand pounds a year, were granted 
to the king ; besides their goods, chattels, and plate, computed at 
a hundred thousand pounds more, t It does not appear that any 
opposition was made to this important law : so absolute was 
Henry's authority ! A court, called the court of augmenta- 
tion of the king's revenue, was erected for the management of 
these funds. The people naturally concluded from this cir- 
cumstance, that Henry intended to proceed in despoiling the 
church of her patrimony. § 

The act formerly passed, empowering the king to name 
thirty-two commissioners for framing a body of canon law, was 
renewed ; but the project was never carried into execution. 
Henry thought, that the present perplexity of that law increased 
his authority, and kept the clergy in still greater dependence. 

Further progress was made in completing the union of Wales 
with England : the separate jurisdictions of several great lords, 
or marchers, as they were called, which obstructed the course 
of justice in Wales, and encouraged robbery and pillaging, 
were abolished ; and the authority of the king's courts was 
extended every where. Some jurisdictions of a like nature in 
England were also abolished this session. I! 

The commons, sensible that they had gained nothing by 
opposing the king's will when he formerly endeavored to secure 
the profits of wardships and liveries, were now contented to 

* 27 Henry VIII. c. 28. t Burnet, vol. i. p. 193. 

t It is pretended, (see Holingshed, p. 939,) that ten thousand monks 
were turned out on the dissolution of the lesser monasteries. If so, 
most of them must have been mendicants ; for the revenue could not 
have supported near that number. The mendicants, no doubt, still 
continued their former profession. 

* 27 Henry VJII. c. ?- || 11 Henry VIII. c. 4 



A D. 1536.] henry vra. <&\ 

frame a law,* such as he dictated to them. It was enacted, 
that the possession of land shall be adjudged to be in those whc 
have the use of it, not in those to whom it is transferred in 
trust. 

After all these laws were passed, the king dissolved the pai 
liament ; a parliament memorable, not only for the great and 
important innovations which it introduced, but also for the long 
time it had sitten, and the frequent prorogations which it had 
undergone, flenry had found it so obsequious to his will, that 
he did not choose, during those religious ferments, to hazard a 
new election ; and he continued the same parliament above 
six years : a practice at that time unusual in England. 

The convocation which sat during this session was engaged 
in a very important work, the deliberating on the new trans- 
lation which was projected of the Scriptures. The translation 
given by Tindal, though corrected by himself in a new edition, 
was still complained of by the clergy as inaccurate and un- 
faithful ; and it was now proposed to them, that they should 
themselves publish a translation which would not be liable to 
those objections. 

The friends of the reformation asserted, that nothing could | 
be more absurd than to conceal, in an unknown tongue, the 
word of God itself, and thus to counteract the will of Heaven, 
which, for the purpose of universal salvation, had published 
that salutary doctrine to all nations : that if this practice were 
not very absurd, the artifice at least was very gross, and proved 
a consciousness, that the glof-ses and traditions of the clergy 
stood in direct opposition to the original text, dictated by su- 
preme intelligence : that it was now necessary for the people, 
bo long abused by interested pretensions, to see with their own 
eyes, and to examine whether the claims of the ecclesiastics 
were founded on that charter which was on all hands acknowl- 
edged to be derived from Heaven : and that, as a spirit of re- 
search and curiosity was happily revived, and men were now 
obliged to make a choice among the contending doctrines of 
different sects, the proper materials for decision, and above all, 
the Holy Scriptures, should be set before them ; and the re- 
vealed will of God, which the change of language had some 
what obscured, be again, by their means, revealed to mankind. 

The favorers of the ancient religion maintained, on the othei 
hand, that the pretence of making the people see with theii owe 

# 27 Henry VIII. e. 10. 



S22 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1536. 

eyes was a mere cheat, and was itself a very gross artifice, by 
which the new preachers hoped to obtain the guidance of them, 
and tc seduce them from those pastors whom the laws, whom 
ancient establishments, whom Heaven itself, had appointed 
for their spiritual direction : that the people were by their 
ignorance, their stupidity, their necessary avocations, totally 
unqualified to choose their own principles : and it was a mock- 
ery to set materials before them, of which they could not pos- 
sibly make any proper use : that even in the affairs of com- 
mon life, and in their temporal concerns, which lay more within 
the compass of human reason, the laws had in a great measure 
deprived them of the right of private judgment, and had, hap- 
pily for their own and the public interest, regulated their con- 
duct and behavior : that theological questions were placed far 
beyond the sphere of vulgar comprehension ; and ecclesiastics 
themselves, though assisted by all the advantages of education, 
erudition, and an assiduous study of the science, could not be 
fully assured of a just decision, except by the promise made 
them in Scripture, that God would be ever present with his 
church, and that the gates of hell should not prevail against 
her : that the gross errors adopted by the wisest heathens, 
proved how unfit men were to grope their own way through 
this profound darkness ; nor would the Scriptures, if trusted 
to every man's judgment, be able to remedy ; on the contrary, 
they would much augment, those fatal illusions : that sacred 
writ itself was involved in so much obscurity, gave rise to so 
many difficulties, contained so many appearing contradictions, 
that it was the most dangerous weapon that could be intrusted 
into the hands of the ignorant and giddy multitude : that the 
poetical style in which a great part of it was composed, at the 
same time that it occasioned uncertainty in the sense, by its 
multiplied tropes and figures, was sufficient to kindle the zeal 
of fanaticism, and thereby throw civil society into the most 
furious combustion : that a thousand sects must arise, which 
would pretend, each of them, to derive its tenets from the 
Scripture ; and would be able, by specious arguments, or even 
without specious arguments, to seduce silly woraea and igno- 
rant mechanics into a belief of the most monstrous principles : 
and that if ever this disorder, dangerous to the magistrate him- 
self, received a remedy, it must be from the tacit acquiescence 
of the people in some new authority ; and it was evidently 
better, without further contest or inquiry, to adhere peaceably 
*o ancient, and theiefore the more secure establishments. 



A. D 1536.] henry via. : 23 

These latter arguments, being more agreeable to ecclesias- 
tical governments, would probably have prevailed in the 
convocation, had it not been for the authority of Cranmer, 
Latimer, and some other bishops, who were supposed to speak 
the king's sense of the matter. A vote was passed for publish- 
ing a new translation of the Scriptures ; and in three years' 
time the work was finished, and printed at Paris. This was 
dpemcd a great point gained by the reformers, and a consider- 
able advancement of their cause. Further progress was soon 
expected, after such important successes. 

But while the retainers to the new religion were exulting in 
their prosperity, they met with a mortification which seemed to 
blast all their hopes : their patroness, Anne Boleyn, possessed 
no longer the king's favor ; and soon after lost her life by the 
rage of that furious monarch. Henry had persevered in his 
love to this lady during six years that his prosecution of the 
divorce lasted ; and the more obstacles he met with to the 
gratification of his passion, the more determined zeal did he 
exert in pursuing his purpose. But the affection which had 
subsisted, and still increased under difficulties, had not long 
attained secure possession of its object, when it languished from 
satiety; and the king's heart was apparently estranged from 
his consort. Anne's enemies soon perceived the fatal change ; 
and they were forward to widen the breach, when they found 
that they incurred no danger by interposing in those delicate 
concerns. She had been delivered of a dead son ; and Henry's 
extreme fondness for male issue being thus for the present dis 
appointed, his temper, equally violent and superstitious, was? 
disposed to make the innocent mother answerable for the mis- 
fortune.* But the chief means which Anne's enemies employed 
to inflame the king against her, was his jealousy. 

Anne, though she appears to have been entirely innocent, 
and even virtuous m her conduct, had a certain gayety, if not 
levity of character which threw her off* her guard, and made 
her less circumspect than her situation required. Hei educa- 
tion in France rendered her the more prone to those freedoms ■ 
and it was with difficulty she conformed herself to that strict 
ceremonial practised in the court of England. More vain 
than haughty, she was pleased to see the influence of hoi 
beauty on all around her ; and she indulged herself in an easy 
familian*y with persons who were formerly her equals, and 

* Burnet, vol. i. p. 19G. 



22A HISTORY OF EN3LAND. [A. D. 15ot 

who might then have pretended to her friendship and goo£ 
graces. Henry's dignity was offended Avith these popular 
manners ; and though the lover had been entirely blind, the 
husband possessed but too quick discernment and penetration. 
Ill instruments interposed, and put a malignant interpretation 
on the harmless liberties of the queen : the viscountess of 
Rocheford, in particular, who was married to the queen'? 
brother, but who lived on bad terms with her sister-in-law, 
insinuated the most cruel suspicions into the king's mind ; 
and as she was a woman of a profligate character, she paid 
no regard either to truth or humanity in those calumnies 
which she suggested. She pretended that her own husband 
was engaged in a criminal correspondence with his sister , 
and not content with this imputation, she poisoned every action 
of the queen's, and represented each instance of favor, which she 
conferred on any one, as a token of affection. Henry Norris, 
groom of the stole, Weston and Brereton, gentlemen of the 
king's chamber, together with Murk Smeton, groom of the 
chamber, were observed to possess much of the queen's friend- 
ship ; and they served her with a zeal and attachment, which, 
though chiefly derived from gratitude, might not improbably 
be seasoned with some mixture of tenderness for so amiable a 
princess. The king's jealousy laid hold of the slightest cir- 
cumstance ; and finding no particular object on which it could 
fasten, it vented itself equally on every one that came within 
the verge of its fury. 

Had Henry's jealousy been derived from love, though it 
might on a sudden have proceeded to the most violent ex- 
tremities, it would have been subject to many remorses and 
contrarieties ; and might at last have served only to augment 
that affection on which it was founded. But it was a mora 
stern jealousy, fostered entirely by pride: his love was trans- 
ferred to another object. Jane, daughter of Sir John Seymour, 
and maid of honor to the queen, a young lady of singidar beauty 
and merit, had obtained an entire ascendant over him ; and 
ne was determined to sacrifice every thing to the gratification 
of this new appetite. Unlike to most monarchs, who judge 
lightly of the crime of gallantry, and who deem the young 
damsels of their court rather honored than disgraced by their 
passion, he seldom thought of any other attachment than that 
of marriage ; and hi order to attain this end, he underwent 
more difficulties, and committed greater crimes, than those 
which he sought to avoid by forming that legal connection 



A. D. 1536.] hemiy vm. 223 

And having thus entertained the design of raising his new mis- 
tress to his bed and throne, he more willingly hearkened to 
every suggestion which threw any imputation of guilt on the 
unfortunate Anne Boleyn. 

The king's jealousy first appeared openly in a tilting at 
Greenwich, where the queen happened to drop her handker- 
chief, an incident probably casual, but interpreted by him as 
an instance of gallantry to some of her paramours.* He 
immediately retired from the place; sent orders to confine 
her to her chamber; arrested Norris, Brereton, Weston, and 
Smeton, together with her brother Rocheford ; and threw 
them into prison. The queen, astonished at these instances 
of his fury, thought that he meant only to try her ; but finding 
him in earnest, she reflected on his obstinate, unrelenting spirit, 
and she prepared herself for that melancholy doom which was 
awaiting her. Next day, she was sent to the Tower ; and on 
her way thither, she was informed of her supposed offences, of 
which she had hitherto been ignorant : she made earnest prot- 
estations of her innocence; and when she entered the prison, 
she fell on her knees, and prayed God so to help her, as she 
was not guilty of the crime imputed to her. Her surprise and 
confusion threw her into hysterical disorders ; and in that situ- 
ation she thought that the best proof of her innocence was to 
make an entire confession ; and she revealed some indiscretions 
and levities, which her simplicity had equally betrayed her to 
commit and to avow. She owned that she had once rallied 
Norris on his delaying his marriage, and had told him that he 
probably expected her when she should be a widow : she had 
reproved Weston, she said, for his affection to a kinswoman of 
hers, and his indifference towards his wife ; but he told her that 
she had mistaken the object of his affection, for it was herself; 
upon which she defied him.t She affirmed that Smeton hud 
never been in her chamber but twice, when he played on t.^ie 
harpsichord; but she acknowledged that he had once had the 
boldness to tell her that a look sufficed him. The king, instead 
of being satisfied with the candor and sincerity of her confes- 
sion, regarded these indiscretions only as preludes to greatei 
and more criminal intimacies 

Of all those multitudes whom the beneficence of the queen's 
temper had obliged during her prosperous fortune, no one 
durst interpose between her and the king's fury; and the 

* Burnet, vol. i. p. 198. 1 Strype, vol. i. p. 281. 



226 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1536 

person whose advancement every breath had favored, and 
every countenance had smiled upon, was now left neglected 
and abandoned. Even her uncle, the duke of Norfolk, pre- 
ferring the connections of party to the ties of blood, was 
become her most dangerous enemy; and all the retainers 
to the Catholic religion hoped that her death would terminate 
the king's quarrel with Rome, and leave him again to his nat- 
ural and early bent, which had inclined him to maintain the 
most intimate union with the apostolic see. Cranmer alone, 
of all the queen's adherents, still retained his friendship for 
her ; and, as far as the king's impetuosity permitted him, 
he endeavored to moderate the violent prejudices entertained 
against her. 

The queen herself wrote Henry a letter from the Tower, 
full of the most tender expostulations and of the warmest prot- 
estations of innocence.* This letter had no influence on the 
unrelenting mind of Henry, who was determined to pave the 
way for his new marriage by the death of Anne Boleyn. 
Norris, Weston, Brereton, and Smeton, were tried ; but no 
legal evidence was produced against them. The chief proof 
of their guilt consisted in a hearsay from one Lady Wingheld, 
who was dead. Smeton was prevailed on, by the vain hopes 
of life, to confess a criminal correspondence with the queen ;t 
but even her enemies expected little advantage from this con- 
fession; for they never dared to confront him with her; and 
he was immediately executed; as were also Brereton and 
Weston. Norris had been much in the king's favor, and an 
offer of life was made him, if he would confess his crime and 
accuse the queen ; but he generously rejected the proposal, 
and said that in his conscience he believed her entirely guilt- 
less : but for his part, he could accuse her of nothing, and he 
would rather die a thousand deaths than calumniate an inno- 
cent person. 

The queen and her brother were tried by a jury of peers, 
consisting of the duke of Suffolk, the marquis of Exeter, the 
earl of Arundel, and twenty-three more : their uncle, the 
duke of Norfolk, presided as high steward. Upon what 
proof or pretence the crime of incest was imputed to them, is 
unknown : the chief evidence, it is said, amounted to no more 
than that R,ocheford had been seen to lean on her bed 
before some company. Part of the charge against her was. 

* See note K, at the enc 1 of the volume, 
t Burnet, vol. i. p. 202. 



\. D. 153G.J henry vni. 227 

that she had affirmed to her minionf that the king never had 
her heart ; and had said to each of tnem apart, that she loved 
him better than any person whatsoever ; " which was to the 
slander of the issue begotten between the king and her." By 
this strained interpretation, her guilt was brought under the 
statute of the twenty-fifth of this reign ; in which it was 
declared criminal to throw any slander upon the king, queen, 
or their issue. Such palpable absurdities were at that tune 
admitted ; and they were regarded by the peers of England 
as a sufficient reason for sacrificing an innocent queen to the 
cruelty of their tyrant. Though unassisted by counsel, she 
lefended herself with presence of mind ; and the spectators 
could not forbear pronouncing her entirely innocent. Judg- 
ment, however, was given by the court, both against the 
queen and Lord Hocheford ; and her verdict contained, that 
she should be burned or beheaded at the king's pleasure. 
When this dreadful sentence was pronounced, she was not 
terrified, but lifting up her hands to heaven, said, "O Father! 
O Creator ! thou who art the way. the truth, and the life, thou 
knowest that I have not deserved this fate ;" and then turn- 
ing to the judges, made the most pathetic declarations of her 
innocence. 

Henry, not satisfied with this cruel vengeance, was resolved 
entirely to anmd his marriage with Anne Boleyn, and to 
declare her issue illegitimate : he recalled to his memory, 
that a little after her appearance in the English court, some 
attachment had been acknowledged between her and the earl 
of Northumberland, then Lord Piercy ; and he now questioned 
that nobleman with regard to these engagements. Northum- 
berland took an oath before the two archbishops, that no 
contract or promise of marriage had ever passed between 
them : he received the sacrament upon it, before the duke 
of Norfolk and others of the privy council ; and this solemn 
act he accompanied with the most solemn protestations of 
veracity.* The queen, however, was shaken by menaces of 
executing the sentence against her in its greatest rigor, and 
was prevailed on to confess in court some lawful impediment 
to her marriage with the king.t The afflicted primate, who 
sat as judge, thought himself obliged by this confession to 
pronounce the marriage null and invalid. Henry, in th* 
transports of his fury, did not perceive that his proceedings 



* Herbert, p. 384. t Heylin, p. 94. 



228 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1536 

were totally inconsistent, and that if her marriage were from 
the beginning invalid, she could not possibly be guilty of 
adultery. 

Th<> queen now prepared for suffering the death to which 
she was sentenced. She sent her last message to the king, 
and acknowledged the obligations which she owed him, in 
thus uniformly continuing his endeavors for her advancement ; 
from a private gentlewoman, she said, he had first made her 
a marchioness, then a queen, and now, since he could raise 
her no higher in this world, he was sending her to be a saint 
in heaven. She then renewed the protestations of her inno- 
cence, and recommended her daughter to his care. Before 
the lieutenant of the Tower, and all who approached her, she 
made the like declarations ; and continued to behave herself 
with her usual serenity, and even with cheerfulness. " The 
executioner," she said to the lieutenant, " is, I hear, very 
expert ; and my neck is very slender :" upon which she 
grasped it in her hand, and smiled. When brought, however, 
to the scaffold, she softened her tone a little with regard to 
her protestations of innocence. She probably reflected, that 
the obstinacy of Queen Catharine, and her opposition to the 
king's will, had much alienated him from the lady Mary : 
her own maternal concern, therefore, for Elizabeth prevailed 
in these last moments over that indignation which the unjust 
sentence by which she suffered naturally excited in her. She 
said that she was come to die, as she was sentenced, by the 
law : she would accuse none, nor say any thing of the ground 
upon which she was judged. She prayed heartily lor the 
king ; called him a most merciful and gentle prince ; and 
acknowledged that he had always been to her a good and 
gracious sovereign ; and if any one should think proper to 
canvass her cause, she desired him to judge the best She 
was beheaded by the executioner of Calais, who was sont for 
as more expert than any in England. Her body was negli- 
gently thrown into a common chest of elm-tree, made to hold 
arrows, and was buried in the Tower. 

The innocence of this unfortunate queen cannot reasonably 
b& called in question. Henry himself, in the violence of his 
rage, knew not whom to accuse as her lover ; and though 
[hi imputed guilt to her brother, and four persons more, he 
was able to bring proof against none of them. The whole 

* Burnet, vol. i. p. 20-:,. 



A. D. 1536] HENRY VIII. 22* 

tenor of her conduct forbids us to ascribe to her an abandoned 
character, such as is implied in the king's accusation : had 
she been so lost to all prudence and sense of sharne, she must 
have exposed herself to detection, and afforded her enemies 
some evidence against her. But the king made the most 
effectual apology for her, by marrying .1 ane Seymour the very 
day after her execution.* His impatience to gratify this new 
passion caused him to forget all regard to decency ; and his 
cruel heart was not softened a moment by the bloody catas- 
trophe of a person who had so long been the object of his most 
tender affections. 

The lady Mary thought the death of her step-mother a 
proper opportunity for reconciling herself to the king, who, 
besides other causes of disgust, had been offended with her 
on account of the part which she had taken in her mother's 
quarrel. Her advances were not at first received ; and Henry 
exacted from her some further proofs of submission and obe- 
dience : he required this young princess, then about twenty 
years of age, to adopt his theological tenets ; to acknowledge 
his supremacy ; to renounce the pope ; and to own her 
mother's marriage to be unlawful and incestuous. These 
points were of hard digestion with the princess ; but after 
some delays, and even refusals, she was at last prevailed on 
to write a letter to her father.t containing her assent to the 
articles required of her ; upon which she was received i. to 
favor. But notwithstanding the return of the king's affection 
to the issue of his first marriage, he divested not himself of 
kindness towards the lady Elizabeth ; and the new queen, 
who was blessed with a singular sweetness of disposition, dis- 
covered strong proofs of attachment towards her. 

The trial and conviction of Queen Anne, and the subsequent 
events, made it necessary for the king to summon a new 
parliament ; and he here, in his speech, made a merit to his 
people, that, notwithstanding the misfortunes attending his 
two former marriages, he had been induced for their good to 
venture on a third. The speaker received this profession with 
6uitable gratitude ; and he took thence occasion to praise the 
king for his wonderful gifts of grace and nature : he com- 
pared him, for justice and prudence, to Solomon ; for strength 
and fortitude, to Samson ; and for beauty and comeliness, to 



* Burnet, vol. i. p 297. 

t Burnet, vol. i. p. 207. Strype, vo p. 285. 



230 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1536 

Absalom. The king very humbly replied, by the mouth ol 
the chancellor, that he disavowed these praises ; since, if he 
were ideally possessed of such endowments, they were the 
gifls of Almighty God only. Henry found that the parliament 
was no less submissive in deeds than complaisant in their 
expressions, and that they would go the same lengths as the 
former in gratifying even his most lawless passions. His 
divorce from Anne Boleyn was ratified ; * that queen and all 
her accomplices were attainted ; the issue of both his former 
marriages were declared illegitimate, and it was even made 
treason to assert the legitimacy of either of ihem; to throw 
any slander upon the present king, queen, or their issue, was 
subjected to the same penalty ; the crown was settled on the 
king's issue by Jane Seymour, or any subsequent wife ; and 
in case he should die without children, he was empowered, by 
his will or letters patent, to dispose of the crown ; an enor- 
mous authority, especially when intrusted to a prince so vio- 
lent and capricious in his humor. Whoever, being required, 
refused to answer upon oath to any article of this act of set- 
tlement, was declared to be guilty of treason ; and by this 
clause a species of political inquisition was established in the 
kingdom, as well as the accusations of treason multiplied to 
an unreasonable degree. The king was also empowered tc 
confer on any one, by his will or letters patent, any castles, 
honors, liberties, or franchises ; words which might have 
been extended to the dismembering of the kingdom, by the 
erection of principalities and independent jurisdictions. It 
was also, by another act, made treason to marry, without the 
king's consent, any princess related in the first degree to the 
crown. This act was occasioned by the discovery of a design 
formed by Thomas Howard, brother of the duke of Norfolk 
to espouse the lady Margaret Douglas, niece to the king, by 
his sister the queen of Scots and the earl of Angus. Howard 
as well as the young lady, was committed to the Tower 
She recovered her liberty soon after ; but he died in confine 
ment. An act of attainder passed against him this session of 
parliament. 



* The pailiament, in ann illing the king's marriage with Anne Boleyn, 
gives this as a reason, "Fcr that his highness had chosen to wife the 
excellent and virtuous Lady Jane, who. for h f >r convenient years, excel- 
lent beauty, and pureness of flesh and blood, would he apt, God will'uq 
to e uiceive issue by his liighnes?.' - 



A.D. 1536 J henry vm. 2'6\ 

Another accession was likewise gained to the authority of 
the crown ; the king or any of his successors was empowered 
to repeal or annul, by letters patent, whatever act of parlia- 
ment had been passed before he was four-and-twenty years 
of age. Whoever maintained the authority of the bishop 
of Rome by word or writ, or endeavored in any manner to 
restore it in England, was subjected to the penalty of a pre- 
munire ; that is, his goods were forfeited, and he was put out 
of the protection of law. And any person who possessed 
any office, ecclesiastical or civil, or received any grant or 
charter from the crown, and yet refused to renounce the pope 
by oath, was declared to be guilty of treason. The renuncia- 
tion prescribed runs in the style of, " So help me God, all 
saints, and the holy evangelists." * The pope, hearing of Anne 
Boleyn's disgrace and death, had hoped that the door was 
opened to a reconciliation, and had been making some advances 
to Henry : but this was the reception he met with. Henry 
was now become indifferent with regard to papal censures ; 
and finding a great increase of authority, as well as of revenue, 
to accrue from his quarrel with Rome, he was determined to 
persevere in his present measures. This parliament also, 
even more than any foregoing, convinced him how much he 
commanded the respect of his subjects, and what confidence 
he might repose in them. Though the elections had been 
made on a sudden, without any preparation or intrigue, the 
members discovered an unlimited attachment to his person 
and government. t 

The extreme complaisance of the convocation, which sat 
at the same time with the parliament, encouraged him in his 
resolution of breaking entirely with the court of Rome. 
There was secretly a great division of sentiments in the minds 
of this assembly ; and as the zeal of the reformers had been 
augmented by some late successes, the resentment of the 
Catholics was no less excited by their fears and losses : but 
the authority of the king kept every one submissive and silent; 
and the new assumed prerogative, the supremacy, with whose 
limits no one was fully acquainted, restrained even the most 
furious movements of theological rancor. Cromwell presided 
as vicar-general ; and though the Catholic party expected, 
that on the fall of Queen Anne, his authority would receive a 
great shock, they were surpriser' to find him still maintain the 



* 28 Henry VIII. c. If) t Burnet, vol. i. p. 21i 



Vi'H^ HISTORY OF ENGLANfi [A.D. l53G 

same credit as before. With the vicar-general concurred 
Cranmer the primate, Latimer, bishop of Worcester, ShaxtoA 
of Salisbury, Hilsey of Rochester, Fox of Hereford, Barlow 
of St. David's. The opposite faction was headed by Lee, 
archbishop of York, Stokesley, bishop of London, Tonstal of 
Durham Gardner of Winchester, Longland of Lincoln, Sher 
borne of Chichester, Nix of Norwich, and Kite of Carlisle. 
The former party, by their opposition to the pope, seconded 
the king's ambition and love of power : the latter party, by 
maintaining the ancient theological tenets, were more con- 
tbrmable to his speculative principles : and both of them had 
alternately the advantage of gaining on his humor, by which 
he was more governed than by either of these motives. 

The church in general was averse to the reformation ; and 
the lower house of convocation framed a list of opinions, in 
the whole sixty-seven, which they pronounced erroneous, and 
which was a collection of principles, some held by the ancient 
Lollards, others by the modern Protestants, or Gospellers, as 
they were sometimes called. These opinions they sent to th« 
upper house to be censured ; but in the preamble of theil 
representation, they discovered the servile spirit by which they 
were governed. They said, " that they intended not to do or 
speak any thing which might be unpleasant to the king, whom 
they acknowledged their supreme head, and whose commands 
they were resolved to obey ; renouncing the pope's usurped 
authority, with all his laws and inventions, now extinguished 
and abolished ; and addicting themselves to Almighty God 
and his laws, and unto the king and the laws made within this 
kingdom." * 

The convocation came at last, after some debate, to decide 
articles of faith ; and their tenets were of as motley a kind as 
the assembly itself, or rather as the king's system of theology, 
by which they were resolved entirely to square their principles 
They determined the standard of faith to consist in the 
Scriptures and the three creeds, the Apostolic, Nicene, and 
Athanasian ; and this article was a signal victory to the 
reformers : auricular confession and penance were admitted, 
a doctrine agreeable to the Catholics : no mention was made 
of marriage, extreme unction, confirmation, or holy orders, 
as sacraments; and in this omission the influence of tha 
Protestants appeared : the real presence was asserted cctt 



* Collier, vol. ii. p. 119. 



A. D. 1536.] henry vni. 23* 

lormably to the ancient doctrine : the terms of acceptance 
were established to be the merits of Christ, and the merc^ 
and good pleasure of God, suitably to the new principles. 

So far the two sects seem to have made a fair partition 
by alternately sharing the several clauses. In framing the 
subsequent articles, each of them seems to have thrown in 
its ingredient. The Catholics prevailed in asserting, that the 
use of images was warranted by Scripture ; the Protestants, 
in warning the people against idolatry, and the abuse of these 
sensible representations. The ancient faith was adopted in 
maintaining the expedience of praying to saints ; the late 
innovations in rejecting the peculiar patronage of saints to 
any trade, profession, or course of action. The former rites 
of worship, the use of holy water, and the ceremonies prac 
tised on Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday, Good Friday, and 
other festivals, were still maintained ; but the new refine 
ments, which made light of these institutions, were also adopt 
ed, by the convocation's denying that they had any immediate 
power of remitting sin, and by its asserting that their sole 
merit consisted in promoting pious and devout dispositions in 
the mind. 

But the article with regard to purgatory contains the most 
curious jargon, ambiguity, and hesitation, arising from th^ 
mixture of opposite tenets. It was to this purpose : " Since, 
according to due order of charity, and the book of Maccabees, 
and divers ancient authors, it is a very good and charitable 
deed to pray for souls departed, and since such a practice has 
been maintained in the church from the beginning, all bishops 
and teachers should instruct the people not to be grieved for 
the continuance of the same. But since the place where de- 
parted souls are retained before they reach paradise, as well 
as the nature of their pains, is left uncertain by Scripture, all 
such questions are to be submitted to God, to whose mercy it 
is meet and convenient to commend the deceased, trusting that 
he accepteth our prayers for them."* 

These articles, when framed by the convocation, and cor- 
rected by the king, were subscribed by every member of that 
assembly ; while, perhaps, neither there nor throughout the 
whole kingdom, could one man be found, except Henry him- 
self, who had adopted precisely these very doctrines and opin- 
ions. For though there be not any contradiction in the teneti 

* Collier, vol. ii. p. 122 nt seq. Fuller. Burnet, vol. 1. p. 21S. 



J!34 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A. D. 1036. 

abovo men tioned, it had happened in England, as in all coun- 
tries where factious divisions have place ; a certain creed was 
embraced by each party ; few neuters were to be found ; and 
these consisted only of speculative or whimsical people, of 
whom two persons could scarcely be brought to an agreement 
in the same dogmas. The Protestants, all of them, carried 
their opposition to R,ome further than those articles : none of 
the Catholics went so far : and the king, by being able to 
retain the nation in such a delicate medium, displayed the 
utmost power of an imperious despotism of which any history 
furnishes an example. To change the religion of a country, 
even when seconded by a party, is one of the most perilous 
enterprises which any sovereign can attempt, and often proves 
the most destructive to royal authority. But Henry was able 
to set the political machine in that furious movement, and yet 
regulate and even stop its career : he could say to it, Thus far 
shalt thou go, and no farther : and he made every vote of his 
parliament and convocation subservient, not only to his inter- 
ests and passions, but even to his greatest caprices ; nay, to 
his most refined and most scholastic subtilties. 

The concurrence of these two national assemblies served, 
no doubt, to increase the king's power over the people, and 
raised him to an authority more absolute than any prince in 
a simple monarchy, even by means of military force, is ever 
able to attain. But there are certain bounds, beyond which 
the most slavish submission cannot be extended. All the 
late innovations, particularly the dissolution of the smallei 
monasteries, and the imminent danger to which all the rest 
were exposed,* had bred discontent among the people, an J 
had disposed them to revolt. The expelled monks, wandering 
about the country, excited both the piety and compassion of 
men ; and as the ancient religion took hold of the populace 
by powerful motives, suited to vulgar capacity, it was able, 
now that it was brought into apparent hazard, to raise the 
strongest zeal in its favor.t Discontents had even reached 
some of the nobility and gentry, whose ancestors had founded 
the monasteries, and who placed a vanity in those institutions, 
as well as reaped some benefit from them, by the provisions 
which they afforded them for their younger children. The 
more superstitious were interested for the souls of their fore- 

* See note L, at the end of the volume, 
t Strype, vol. i. p. 249. 



A.D \b'Sb.\ henr^ vui. 233 

fathers, which, they believed, must now lie during many ages 
in the torments oi" purgatory, for want of masses to relieve 
them. It seemed unjust to abolish pious institutions for the 
faults, real or pretended, of individuals. Even the most mod- 
erate and reasonable deemed it somewhat iniquitous, that men 
who had been invited into a course of life by all the laws, 
human and divine, which prevailed in their country, should 
be turned out of their possessions, and so little care be taken of 
their future subsistence. And when it was observed, that the 
rapacity and bribery of the commissioners and others, employed 
in visiting the monasteries, intercepted much of the profits re- 
sulting from these confiscations, it tended much to increase 
the general discontent.* 

But the people did not break into open sedition till the 
complaints of the secular clergy concurred with those of the 
regular. As Cromwell's person was little acceptable to the 
ecclesiastics, the authority which he exercised, being so new, 
so absolute, so unlimited, inspired them with disgust and terror. 
He published, in the king's name, without the consent either 
of parliament or convocation, an ordinance by which he re- 
trenched many of the ancient holy days ; prohibited several 
superstitions gainful to the clergy, such as pilgrimages, images, 
relics ; and even ordered the incumbents in the parishes to set 
apart a considerable portion of their revenue for repairs, and 
for the support of exhibitioners and the poor of their parish. 
The secular priests, finding themselves thus reduced to a 
grievous servitude, instilled into the people those discontents 
which they had long harbored in their own bosoms. 

The first rising was in Lincolnshire. It was headed by 
Dr. Mackrel, prior of Barlings, who was disguised like a mean 
mechanic, and who bore the name of Captain Cooler. This tu- 
multuary army amounted to above twenty thousand men ; t but 
notwithstanding their number, they showed little disposition 
of proceeding to extremities against the king, and seemed still 
overawed by his authority. They acknowledged him to be 
supreme head of the church in England ; but they complained 
of suppressing the monasteries, of evil counsellors, of persons 
meanly born raised to dignity, of the danger to which the jew- 
els and plate of their parochial churches were exposed ; and 
they prayed the king to consult the nobility of the realm con- 

* Burnet, vol i. p. 223. 

t Burnet, vol i. p. 227 Herbert. 



236 HISTORY OP ENGLAND, [A. D. 153^ 

cerning the redress of these grievances.* Henry was little 
disposed to entertain apprehensions of danger, especially fvon; 
a low multitude whom he despised. He sent forces against 
the rebels, under the command of the duke of Suffolk ; and he 
returned them a very sharp answer to their petition. There 
were some gentry whom the populace had constrained to take 
part with them, and who kept a secret correspondence with 
Suffolk. They informed him, that resentment against the 
king's reply was the chief cause which retained the malecon- 
tents in arms, and that a nnlder answer would probably sup- 
press the rebellion. Henry had levied a great force at London, 
with which he was preparing to march against the rebels ; 
and being so well supported by power, he thought that, with- 
out losing his dignity, he might now show them some greater 
condescension. He sent a new proclamation, requiring them 
to return to their obedience, with secret assurances of pardon. 
This expedient had its effect : the populace was dispersed . 
Mackrel and some of their leaders fell into the king's hands, 
and were executed : the greater part of the multitude retired 
peaceably to their usual occupations : a few of the more ob- 
stinate fled to the north, where they joined the insurrection 
that was raised in those parts. 

The northern rebels, as they were more numerous, were 
also on other accounts more formidable than those of Lincoln- 
shire ; because the people were there more accustomed to arms, 
and because of their vicinity to the Scots, who might make 
advantage of these disorders. One Aske, a gentleman, had 
taken the command of them, and he possessed the art of 
governing the populace. The enterprise they called the " pil 
grimage of grace :" some priests marched before in the habits 
of their order, carrying crosses in their hands : in their ban 
ners was woven a crucifix, with the representation of a chalice, 
and of the five wounds of Christ : t they wore on their sleeve 
an emblem of the five wounds, with the name of Jesus wrought 
in the middle : they all took an oath, that they had entered 
into the pilgrimage of grace with no other motive than their 
love to God, their care of the king's person and issue, their 
desire of purifying the nobility, of driving base-born persons 
from about the king, of restoring the church, and of suppress- 
ing heresy. Allured by these fair pretences, about forty thou- 
sand men from the counties of York, Durham, Lancaster, and 

* Herbert, p. 410 t Fox, vol. ii. p. 992. 



A JD. l5ob.} henry vin. 23T 

those northern provinces, flocked to their standard ; and theii 
zeal, no less than their numbers, inspired the court with ap- 
prehensions. 

The earl of Shrewsbury, moved by his regard for the king's 
service, raised forces, though at first without any commis- 
sion, in order to oppose the rebels The earl of Cumberland 
repulsed them from his castle of Skipton : Sir Ralph Evers 
defended Scarborough Castle against them : * Courtney, mar- 
quis of Exeter, the king's cousin-german, obeyed orders from 
court, and levied troops. The earls of Huntingdon, Derby, 
and Rutland imitated his example. The rebels, however, pre- 
vailed in taking both Hull and York : they had laid siege to 
Pomfret Castle, into which the archbishop of York and Lord 
Darcy had thrown themselves. It was soon surrendered to 
them ; and the prelate and nobleman, who secretly wished 
success to the insurrection, seemed to yield to the force imposed 
on them, and joined the rebels. 

The duke of Norfolk was appointed general of the king's 
forces against the northern rebels ; and as he headed the 
party at court which supported the ancient religion, he was 
also suspected of bearing some favor to the cause which 
he was sent to oppose. His prudent conduct, however, seems 
to acquit him of this imputation. He encamped near Don- 
caster, together with the earl of Shrewsbury ; and as his army 
was small, scarcely exceeding five thousand men, he made 
choice of a post where he had a river in front, the ford of which 
he purposed to defend against the rebels. They had intended 
to attack him in the morning ; but during the night there fell 
such violent rains as rendered the river utterly impassable ; 
and Norfolk wisely laid hold of the opportunity to enter into 
treaty with them. In order to open the door for negotiation, 
he sent them a herald ; whom Aske, their leader, received with 
great ceremony ; he himself sitting in a chair of state, with 
the archbishop of York on one hand, and Lord Darcy on the 
other. It was agreed that two gentlemen should be despatched 
to the king with proposals from the rebels ; and Henry pur- 
posely delayed giving an answer, and allured them with hopes 
of entire satisfaction, in expectation that necessity would soon 
oblige them to disperse themselves. Being informed that his 
artifice had in a great measure succeeded, he required them 
instantly to lay down their arms, and submit to mercy ; prom- 
ising a pardon to all, except six whom he named, and fou* 

* Sto\vt'. pi r ~: ! ftakei'j p ' 



238 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1 63? 

whom lie reserved to himself the power of naming. Bu* 
though the greater part of the rebels had gone home for wanl 
of subsistence, they had entered into the most solemn engage 
ments to return to their standards in case the king's answej 
should not prove satisfactory. Norfolk, therefore, soon found 
himself in the same difficulty as before ; and he opened again 
a negotiation with the leaders of the multitude. He engaged 
them to send three hundred persons to Doncaster with propo- 
sals for an accommodation ; and he hoped, by intrigue and 
separate interests, to throw dissension among so great a num- 
ber. Aske himself had intended to be one of the deputies, and 
he required a hostage for his security : but the king, when con- 
sulted, replied, that he knew no gentleman, or other, whom he 
esteemed so little as to put him in pledge for such a villain. 
The demands of the rebels were so exorbitant, that Norfolk 
rejected them ; and they prepared again to decide the contest 
by arms. They were as formidable as ever, both by their 
numbers and spirit ; and notwithstanding the small river which 
lay between them and the royal army, Norfolk had great rea- 
son to dread the effects of their fury. But while they were 
preparing to pass the ford, rain fell a second time in such 
abundance, as made it impracticable for them to execute their 
design ; and the populace, partly reduced to necessity by want 
of provisions, partly struck with superstition at being thus 
again disappointed by the same accident, suddenly dispersed 
themselves. The duke of Norfolk, who had received powers 
for that end, forwarded the dispersion by the promise of a gen- 
eral amnesty ; and the king ratified this act of clemency. He 
published, however, a manifesto against the rebels, and an 
answer to their complaints ; in which he employed a very lofty 
style, suited to so haughty a monarch. He told them, that 
they ought no more to pretend giving a judgment with regard 
to government, than a blind man with regard to colors. " Anc 
we," he adaed, " with our whole council, think it right strange 
that ye, who be but brutes and inexpert folk, do take upon you 
to appoint us who be meet or not for our council." 

[1537.] As this pacification was not likely to be of lonj; 
continuance, Norfolk was ordered to keep his army together, 
and to march into the northern parts, in ordei to exact a gen- 
eral submission. Lord Darcy, as well as Aske, was sent for 
to court ; and the former, upon his refusal or delay to appear, 
was thrown into prison. Every place was full of jealousy and 
complaints A new insurrection broke out, headed by Mu? 



\ D. lOo/.] HENRY VL3 259 

giave and Tilby ; and the rebels besieged Carlisle with eight 
thousand men. Being repulsed by that city, they were encoun- 
tered in their retreat by Norfolk, who put them to flight : and 
having made prisoners of all their officers, except Musgrave, 
who escaped, he instantly put them to death by martial law, 
to the number of seventy persons. An attempt made by Sir 
Francis Bigot and Halam to surprise Hull, met with no better 
success ; and several other risings were suppressed by the 
vigilance of Norfolk. The king, enraged by these multiplied 
revolts, was determined not to adhere to the general pardon 
which he had granted ; and from a movement of his usual 
violence he made the innocent suffer for the guilty. Norfolk, 
by command from his master, spread the royal banner, and, 
wherever he thought proper, executed martial law in the 
punishment of offenders. Besides Aske, leader of the first in- 
surrection, Sir Robert Constable, Sir John Bulmer, Sir Thomas 
Piercy, Sir Stephen Hamilton, Nicholas Tempest, William 
Lumley, and many others, were thrown into prison ; and most 
of them were condemned and executed. Lord Hussey was 
(bund guilty, as an accomplice in the insurrection of Lincoln- 
shire, and was executed at Lincoln. Lord Darcy, though he 
pleaded compulsion, and appealed for his justification to a long 
life spent in the service of the crown, was beheaded on Tower 
Hill. Before his execution, he accused Norfolk of having 
secretly encouraged the rebels ; but Henry, either sensible of 
that nobleman's services, and convinced of his fidelity, or afraid 
to offend one of such extensive power and great capacity, re 
jected the information. Being now satiated with punishing 
the rebels, he published anew a general pardon, to which he 
faithfully adhered ; * and he erected, by patent, a court of 
justice at York, for deciding lawsuits in the northern counties , 
a demand which had been made by the rebels. 

Soon after this prosperous success, an event happened which 
crowned Henry's joy — the birth of a son, who was baptized by 
the name of Edward. Yet was not his happiness without 
alloy : the queen died two days after. t But a son had so long 
been ardently wished for by Henry, and was now become so 
necessary, in order to prevent disputes with regard to the suc- 
cession, after the acts declaring the two princesses illegitimate, 
that the king's arlliction was drowned in his joy, and he ex- 
pressed great satisfaction on the occasion. The prince, not nix 

* Herbert, p. 4JS + Strype, vol. ii. p. G. 



240 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [.&.D. 1539 

days' old, was created prince of Wales, duke of Cornwall, and 
earl of Chester. Sir Edward Seymour, the queen's brother, 
formerly made Lord Beauchamp, was raised to the dignity of 
earl of Hertford. Sir William Fitz- Williams, high admiral, 
was created earl of Southampton ; Sir William Paulet, Lord 
St. John ; Sir John Russel, Lord Russel. 

[1538.] The suppression of the rebellion and the birth of a 
son, as they confirmed Henry's authority at home, increased 
his consideration among foreign princes, and made his alliance 
be courted by all parties. He maintained, however, a neu- 
trality in the wars which were carried on with various success, 
and without any decisive event, between Charles and Francis ; 
and though inclined more to favor the latter, he determined not 
to incur, without necessity, either hazard or expense on his 
account. A truce concluded about this time between these 
potentates, and afterwards prolonged for ten years, freed him 
from all anxiety on account of his ally, and reestablished the 
tranquillity of Europe. 

Henry continued desirous of cementing a union with the 
German Protestants ; and for that purpose he sent Christopher 
Mount to a congress which they held at Brunswick ; but that 
minister made no great progress in his negotiation. The 
princes wished to know what were the articles in their con- 
fession which Henry disliked ; and they sent new ambassadors 
to him, who had orders both to negotiate and to dispute. 
They endeavored to convince the king, that he was guilty 
of a mistake in administering the eucharist in one kind only, 
in allowing private masses, and in requiring the celibacy of 
the clergy.* Henry would by no means acknowledge any 
error in these particulars ; and was displeased that they should 
pretend to prescribe rules to so great a monarch and theologian. 
He found arguments and syllogisms enough to defend his 
cause ; and he dismissed the ambassadors without coming to 
any conclusion. Jealous, also, lest his own subjects should 
become such theologians as to question his tenets, he used 
great precaution in publishing that translation of the Scripture 
which was finished this year. He would only allow a copy 
of it to be deposited in some parish churches, where it was 
fixed by a chain : and he took care to inform the people by 
proclamation, " that this indulgence was not the effect of his 
duty, but of his goodness and his liberality to them ; who 

* Collier vol. ii. p. 145, from the Cott. Lib. Cleopatra, E. -5, fol 173. 



\. D. d38.j henry vru. 241 

therefore should use it moderately, for the increase of virtue, 
not of strife : and he ordered that no man should read the 
Bible aloud, so as to disturb the priest while he sang mass, nor 
presume to expound doubtful places without advice from the 
Learned." In this measure, as in the rest, he still halted half 
way between the Catholics and the Protestants. 

There was only one particular in which Henry was quite 
decisive ; because he was there impelled by his avarice, or, 
more properly speaking, his rapacity, the consequence of his 
profusion : this measure was, the entire destruction of the 
monasteries. The present opportunity seemed favorable for 
that great enterprise, while the suppression of the late rebel- 
lion fortified and increased the royal authority ; and as some 
of the abbots were suspected of having encouraged the insur- 
rection, and of corresponding with the rebels, the king's 
resentment was further incited by that motive. A new vis'ta- 
tion was appointed of all the monasteries in England ; and 
a pretence only being wanted for their suppression, it was 
easy for a prince, possessed of such unlimited power, and 
seconding the present humor of a great part of the nation, to 
find or feign one. The abbots and monks knew the danger 
to which they were exposed ; and having learned by the 
example of the lesser monasteries that nothing could with- 
stand the king's will, they w r ere most of them induced, in 
expectation of better treatment, to make a voluntary resigna- 
tion of their houses. Where promises failed of effect, men- 
aces and even extreme violence were employed : and as sev- 
eral of the abbots, since the breach with Rome, had been 
named by the court with a view to this event, the king's in- 
tentions were the more easily effected. Some, also, having 
secretly embraced the doctrine of the reformation, were glad to 
be freed from their vows ; and on the whole, the design was 
conducted with such success, that in less than two years the. 
king had got possession of all the monastic revenues. 

In several places, particularly the county of Oxford, great 
interest was made to preserve some convents of women, who, 
as they lived in the most irreproachable manner, justly mer- 
ited, it was thought, that their houses should be saved from the 
general destruction.* There appeared, also, great difference 
between the case of nuns and that of friars ; and the one insti- 
tution n:ight be laudable, while the other was exposed to mucl 

* Burr.et. vol. i. p. 32S. 
vo-L Hi. — L 



242 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1538 

blame. The males of all ranks, if endowed with industry, 
might be of service to the public ; and none of them could 
want employment suited to his station and capacity. But a 
woman of family who failed of a settlement in the married 
state, — an accident to which such persons were more liable 
than women of lower station, — had really no rank which she 
properly filled ; and a convent was a retreat both honorable 
and agreeable, from the inutility, and often want, which attend- 
ed her situation. But the king was determined to abolish 
monasteries of every denomination ; and probably thought 
that these ancient establishments would be the sooner for- 
gotten, if no remains of them of any kind were allowed to 
subsist in the kingdom. 

The better to reconcile the people to this great innovation, 
stories were propagated of the detestable lives of the friars in 
many of the convents ; and great care was taken to defame 
those whom the court had determined to ruin. The relics 
also and other superstitions, which had so long been the object 
of the people's veneration, were exposed to their ridicule ; 
and the religious spirit, now less bent on exterior observances 
and sensible objects, was encouraged in this new direction. 
It is needless to he prolix in an enumeration of particulars : 
Protestant historians mention on this occasion, with great 
triumph, the sacred repositories of convents ; the parings of 
St. Edmond's toes ; some of the coals that roasted St. Lau 
rence ; the girdle of the Virgin shown in eleven several 
places ; two or three heads of St. Ursula ; the felt of St. 
Thomas of Lancaster, an infallible cure for the headache ; 
part of St. Thomas of Canterbury's shirt, much reverenced 
by big-bellied women ; some relics, an excellent preventive 
against rain ; others, a remedy to weeds in corn. But such 
fooleries, as they are to be found in all ages and nations, 
and even took place during the most refined periods of an- 
tiquity, form no particular or violent reproach to the Catholi; 
religion. 

There were also discovered, or said to he discovered, in the 
monasteries some impostures of a more artificial nature. At 
Hales, in the county of Glocester, there had heen shown, 
during several ages, the blood of Christ, brought from Jerusa- 
lem ; and it is easy to imagine the veneration with which such 
a relic was regarded. A miraculous circumstance also attend- 
ed this miraculous relic ; the sacred blood was not visible to 
any one in mortal sin, even when set before him ; and till h> 



A D. 1538.] henry viii 24S 

had performed good works sufficient for his absolution, i1 
would not deign to discover itself to him. At the dissolution 
of the monastery, the whole contrivance was detected. Two 
of the monks, who were let into the secret, had taken the 
blood of a duck, which they renewed every week : they put it 
in a phial, one side of which consisted of thin and transparent 
crystal, the other of thick and opaque. When any rich 
pilgrim arrived, they were sure to show him the dark side 
of the phial, till masses and offerings had expiated his 
offences ; and then, finding his money, or patience, or faith, 
nearly exhausted, they made him happy by turning the phial.* 

A miraculous crucifix had been kept at Boxley, in Kent, and 
bore the appellation of the "rood of grace." The lips, and 
eyes, and head of the image moved on the approach of its 
votaries. Hilsey, bishop of Rochester, broke the crucifix at 
St. Paul's Cross, and showed to the whole people the springs 
and wheels by which it had been secretly moved. A great 
wooden idol, revered in Wales, called Darvel Gatherin, was 
also brought to London, and cut in pieces ; and by a cruel re- 
finement in vengeance, it was employed as fuel to burn friar 
Forest,t who was punished for denying the supremacy, and 
for some pretended heresies. A finger of St. Andrew, 
covered with a thin plate of silver, had been pawned by a 
convent for a debt of forty pounds ; but as the king's com- 
missioners refused to pay the debt, people made themselves 
merry with the poor creditor on account of his pledge. 

But of all the instruments of ancient superstition, no one 
was so zealously destroyed as the shrine of Thomas a 
Becket, commonly called St. Thomas of Canterbury. This 
6aint owed his canonization to the zealous defence which he 
had made for clerical privileges ; and on that account also 
the monks had extremely encouraged the devotion of pilgrim- 
ages towards his tomb, and numberless were the miracles 
which they pretended his relics wrought in favor of his devout 
votaries. They raised his body once a year ; and the day 
on which this ceremony was performed, which was called the 
day of his translation, was a general holiday : every fiftieth 
year there was celebrated a jubilee to his honor, which lasted 
fifteen days : plenary indulgences were then granted to all 
that visited his tomb ; and a hundred thousand pilgrims hav* ' 

* Herbert,, p. 431, 432. Stowe p. 575. 

t Goodwin's Annals. Stowe, p. 515. Herbart. Baker, p. 286. 



241 HISTORY 01 ENGLAND. [A. D. 1538. 

been registered at a time in Canterbury The devotion 
towards him had quite effaced in that place the adoration of 
the Deity ; nay, even that of the Virgin. At God's altar, 
for instance, there were offered in one year three pounds two 
shillings and sixpence ; at the Virgin's sixty-three pounds 
five shillings and sixpence ; at St. Thomas's, eight hundred 
and thirty-two pounds twelve shillings and threepence. But 
next year the disproportion was still greater ; there was not a 
penny offered at God's altar ; the Virgin's gained only four 
pounds one shilling and eightpence ; but St. Thomas had got 
ibr his share nine hundred and fifty-four pounds six shillings 
and threepence.* Lewis VII. of France had made a pilgrimage 
to this miraculous tomb, and had bestowed on the shrine a 
jewel, esteemed the richest in Christendom. It is evident how 
obnoxious to Henry a saint of this character must appear, and 
how contrary to all his projects for degrading the authority 
of the court of Rome. He not only pillaged the rich shrine 
dedicated to St. Thomas ; he made the saint himself be cited 
to appear in court, and be tried and condemned as a traitor : 
he ordered his name to be struck out of the calendar ; the 
office for his festival to be expunged from all breviaries ; his 
bones to be burned, and the ashes to be thrown in the air. 

On the whole, the king at different times suppressed six 
hundred and forty-five monasteries ; of which twenty-eight 
had abbots that enjoyed a seat in parliament. Ninety colleges 
were demolished in several counties ; two thousand three 
hundred and seventy-four chantries and free chapels ; a 
hundred and ten hospitals. The whole revenue of these 
establishments amounted to one hundred and sixty-one thou- 
sand one hundred pounds. t It is worthy of observation, that 
all the lands and possessions and revenue of England had, a 
little before this period, been rated at four millions a year ; so 
Lhat the revenues of the monks, even comprehending the 
lesser monasteries, did not exceed the twentieth part of the 
national income ; a sum vastly inferior to what is commonly 
apprehended. The lands belonging to the convents were 
usually let at a very low rent; and the farmers, who regarded 
themselves as a species of proprietors, took always care to 
renew their leases before they expired. \ 



* Burnet, vol. i. p. 214. 

t Lord Herbert. Camden. Speed. 

I See note M, at the end of the volume 



AD. 1538] henry vm. %& 

Great murmurs were every where excited on account of 
these violences ; and men much questioned whether priors 
and monks, who were only trustees or tenants for life, could, 
by any deed, however voluntary, transfer to the king the entire 
property of their estates. In order to reconcile the people 
to such mighty innovations, they were told that the king would 
never thenceforth have occasion to levy taxes, but would bo 
able, from the abbey lands alone, to bear, during war as well 
as peace, the whole charges of government.* While such 
topics were employed to appease the populace, Henry took 
an effectual method of interesting the nobility and gentry in 
the success of his measures:! he either made a gift of the 
revenues of convents to his favorites and courtiers, or sold 
them at low prices, or exchanged them for other lands on 
very disadvantageous terms. He was so profuse in these 
liberalities, that he is said to have given a woman the whole 
revenue of a convent, as a reward for making a pudding 
which happened to gratify his palate, f He also settled pen- 
sions on the abbots and priors, proportioned to their former 
revenues or to their merits ; and gave each monk a yearly 
pension of eight marks : he erected six new bishoprics, West 
minster, Oxford, Peterborough, Bristol, Chester, and Gloces- 
ter ; of which five subsist at this day : and by all these means 
of expense and dissipation, the profit which the king reaped 
by the seizure of church lands fell much short of vulgar 
opinion. As the ruin of convents had been foreseen some 
years before it happened, the monks had taken care to secrete 
most of their stock, furniture, and plate ; so that the spoils of 
the great monasteries bore not, in these resnects, any propor- 
tion to those of the lesser. 

Besides the lands possessed by the monasteries, the regular 
clergy enjoyed a considerable part of the benefices of Eng- 
land, and of the tithes annexed to them ; and these were also 
at this time transferred to the crown, and by that means 
passed into the hands of laymen ; an abuse which many 
zealous churchmen regai'ded as the most criminal sacrilege 
The monks were formerly much at their ease in England, 
and enjoyed revenues which exceeded the regular and stated 
expense of the house. We read of the abbey of Chertsey, iu 
Surrey, which possessed seven hundred and forty-four pounds 



• Coke's 4th Inst. fol. 4 1. 

t Dugdale's Warwickshire, r> 800. j KhIIm 



24G history of enuland. [A.D 153$ 

a year, though it contained only fourteen monks : that of 
Furnese, in the county of Lincoln, was valued at nine hundred 
and sixty pounds a year, and contained but thirty.* In order 
to dissipate their revenues, and support popularity, the monks 
lived in a hospitable manner; and besides the poor maintained 
from their offals, there were many decayed gentlemen who 
passed their lives in travelling from convent to convent, and 
were entirely subsisted at the tables of the friars. By this 
hospitality, as much as by their own inactivity, did the con- 
vents prove nurseries of idleness; but the king, not to give 
offence by too sudden an innovation, bound the new pro- 
prietors of abbey lands to support the ancient hospitality. But 
this engagement was fulfilled in very few places, and for a 
very short time. 

It is easy to imagine the indignation with which the intelli 
gence of all these acts of violence was received at Rome ; 
and how much the ecclesiastics of that court, who had so 
long kept the world in subjection by high-sounding epithets 
and by holy execrations, would now vent their rhetoric against 
the character and conduct of Henry. The pope was at last 
incited to publish the bull which had been passed against that 
monarch ; and in a public manner he delivered over his soul 
to the devil, and his dominions to the first invader. Libels 
were dispersed, in which he was anew compared to the most 
furious persecutors in antiquity ; and the preference was now 
given to their side : he had declared war with the dead, whom 
the pagans themselves respected ; was at open hostility with 
Heaven ; and had engaged in professed enmity with the whole 
host of saints and angels. Above all, he was often reproached 
with his resemblance to the emperor Julian, whom, it was 
said, he imitated in his apostasy and learning, though he fell 
short of him in morals. Henry could distinguish in some of 
these libels the style and animosity of his kinsman Pole ; and 
he w r as thence incited to vent his rage, by every possible 
expedient, on that famous cardinal. 

Reginald de la Pole, or Reginald Pole, was descended from 
the royal family, being fourth son of the countess of Salisbury, 
daughter of the duke of Clarence. He gave in early youth 
indications of that fine genius and generous disposition by 
which, during his whole life, he was so much distinguished ; 
and Henry, having conceived great friendship for him, intend- 



* BurniH, vol. i. p. 237. 



A.D. 1638] henry vm. 247 

ed to raise him to the highest ecclesiastical dignities ; and, as 
a pledge of future favors, he conferred on him the deanery 
»f Exeter,* the better to support him in his education. Pole 
was carrying on his studies in the university of Paris at the 
time when the king solicited the suffrages of that learned body 
in favor of his divorce ; but though applied to by the English 
agent, he declined taking any part in the affair. Henry bore 
this neglect with more temper than was natural to him ; and 
he appeared unwilling, on that account, to renounce all friend- 
ohip with a person whose virtues and talents, he hoped, would 
prove useful as well as ornamental to his court and kingdom. 
He allowed him still to possess his deanery, and gave him 
permission to finish his studies at Padua : he even paid him 
some court, in order to bring him into his measures ; and 
wrote to him, while in that university, desiring him to give 
his opinion freely with regard to the late measures taken in 
England for abolishing the papal authority. Pole had now 
contracted an intimate friendship with all persons eminent for 
dignity or merit in Italy — Sadolet, Bembo, and other revivers 
of true taste and learning ; and he was moved by these 
connections, as well as by religious zeal, to forget, in some 
respect, the duty which he owed to Henry, his benefactor and 
his sovereign. He replied by writing a treatise of the Unity 
of the Church, in which he inveighed against the king's 
supremacy, his divorce, his second marriage ; and he even 
exhorted the emperor to revenge on him the injury done to 
the imperial family and to the Catholic cause. Henry, though 
provoked beyond measure at this outrage, dissembled his 
resentment ; and he sent a message to Pole, desiring him to 
return to England, in order to explain certain passages in his 
book which he found somewhat obscure and difficult. Pole wa8 
on his guard against this insidious invitation ; and was deter- 
mined to remain in Italy, where he was universally beloved. 

The pope and emperor thought themselves obliged to 
provide for a man of Pole's eminence and dignity, who, in 
support of their cause, had sacrificed all his pretensions to 
fortune in his own country. He was created a cardinal ; and 
though he took not higher orders than those of a deacon, he 
was sent legate into Flanders about the year 1536. t Henry 
was sensible that Pole's chief intention in choosing that 
gmployment, was to foment the mutinous disposition of the 

* joodwin's Annals. t Herbert- 



248 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A..D. 1538 

English Catholics ; and he therefore remonstrated in so vigoi • 
ous a manner with the queen of Hungary, regent of the Low 
Countries, that she dismissed the legate, without allowing him 
to exercise his functions. The enmity which he hore to Pole 
was now as open as it was violent ; and the cardinal, on his 
part, kept no further measures in his intrigues against Henry. 
He is even suspected of having aspired to the crown, by 
means of a marriage with the lady Mary ; and the king was 
every day more alarmed by informations which he received 
of the correspondence maintained in England by that fugitive. 
Courtney, marquis of Exeter, had entered into a conspiracy 
with him ; Sir Edward Nevil, brother to the lord Abergaven- 
ny ; Sir Nicholas Carew, master of horse, and knight of the 
garter ; Henry de la Pole, Lord Montacute, and Sir Geoffrey 
de la Pole, brothers to the cardinal. These persons were 
indicted, and tried, and convicted, before Lord Audley, who 
presided in the trial as high steward ; they were all executed, 
except Sir Geoffrey de la Pole, who was pardoned ; and he 
owed this grace to his having first carried to the king secret 
intelligence of the conspiracy. We know little concerning 
the justice or iniquity of the sentence pronounced against 
these men : we only know, that the condemnation of a man 
who was at that time prosecuted by the court, forms no 
presumption of his guilt ; though, as no historian of credit 
mentions in the present case any complaint occasioned by 
these trials, we may presume that sufficient evidence was 
produced against the marquis of Exeter and hia associates.* 

* Herbe -t in Kennel, p. 216. 



A. D. 1538.1 henry vin. 24° 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

HENRY VIII. 

[1538.] The rough hand of Henry seemed well a dap tea 
for rending asunder those bands by which the ancient super- 
stition had fastened itself on the kingdom ; and though, after 
renouncing the pope's supremacy and suppressing monasteries, 
most of the political ends of reformation were already attained, 
lew people expected that he would stop at those innovations. 
The spirit of opposition, it was thought, would carry him to 
the utmost extremities against the church of Rome ; and lead 
him to declare war against the whole doctrine and worship, as 
well as discipline, of that mighty hierarchy. He had for- 
merly appealed from the pope to a general council ; but now, 
when a general council was summoned to meet at Mantua, 
he previously renounced all submission to it, as summoned by 
the pope, and lying entirely under subjection to that spiritual 
usurper. He engaged his clergy to make a declaration to the 
like purpose ; and he had prescribed to them many other 
deviations from ancient tenets and practices. Cranmer took 
advantage of every opportunity to carry him on in this course ; 
and while Queen Jane lived, who favored the reformers, he 
had, by means of her insinuation and address, been successful 
in his endeavors. After her death, Gardiner, who was re- 
turned from his embassy to France, kept the king more in 
suspense ; and by feigning an unlimited submission to hi& will, 
was frequently able to guide him to his own purposes. Fox, 
bishop of Hereford, had supported Cranmer in his schemes 
for a more thorough reformation ; but his death had made 
way for the promotion of Bonner, who, though he had hitherto 
seemed a furious enemy to the court of Rome, was deter- 
mined to sacrifice every thing to present interest, and had 
joined the confederacy of Gardiner and the partisans of the 
old religion. Gardiner himself, it was believed, had secretly 
entered into measures with the pope, and even with the 
emperor ; and in concert with these powers, he endeavored 



2bO HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A D 1538 

to preserve, as much as possible, the ancient faith and wor 
ship. 

Henry was so much governed by passion, that nothing 
could have retarded his animosity and opposition against Rome, 
but some other passion, which stopped his career, and raised 
him new objects of animosity. Though he had gradually, 
since the commencement of his scruples with regard to his 
first marriage, been changing the tenets of that theological 
system in which he had been educated, he was no less positive 
and dogmatical in the few articles which remained to him, 
than if the whole fabric had continued entire and unshaken. 
And though he stood alone in his opinion, the flattery of cour- 
tiers had so inflamed his tyrannical arrogance, that he thought 
himself entitled to regulate, by his own particular standard, 
the religious faith of the whole nation. The point on which 
he chiefly rested his orthodoxy happened to be the real pres- 
ence ; that very doctrine, in which, among the numberless 
victories of superstition over common sense, her triumph is 
the most signal and egregious. All departure from this prin- 
ciple he held to be heretical and detestable ; and nothing, he 
thought, would be more honorable for him, than, while he 
broke off all connections with the Roman pontiff", to maintain 
in this essential article, the purity of the Catholic faith. 

There was one Lambert,* a schoolmaster in London, who 
had been questioned and confined for unsound opinions by 
Archbishop Warham ; but upon the death of that prelate, and 
the change of counsels at court, he had been released. Not 
terrified with the danger which he had incurred, he still con- 
tinued to promulgate his tenets ; and having heard Dr. Taylor, 
afterwards bishop of Lincoln, defend in a sermon the corporal 
presence, be could not forbear expressing to Taylor his dis- 
sent from that doctrine ; and he drew up his objections under 
ten several heads. Taylor communicated the paper to Dr. 
Barnes, who happened to be a Lutheran, and who maintained 
that though the substance of bread and wine remained, in the 
sacrament, yet the real body and blood of Christ were there 
also, and were, in a certain mysterious manner, incorporated 
with the material elements. By the present laws and practice 
Barnes was no less exposed to the stake than Lambert ; yet 
such was the persecuting rage which prevailed, that he deter- 
mined to bring this man to condign punishment ; because, in 



* Fox. vol. ii. p. §96. 



A. D. 1538.] henry viii 251 

their common departure from the ancient faith, he had dared 
to go one step farther than himself. He engaged ^aylor to 
accuse Lambert before Cranmer and Latimer, who, whatever 
their private opinion might be on these points, were obliged 
to conlbrm themselves to the standard of orthodoxy established 
by Henry. When Lambert was cited before these prelates, 
they endeavored to bend him to a recantation ; and they were 
surprised when, instead of complying, he ventured to appeal 
to the king. 

The king, not displeased with an opportunity where be 
could at once exert his supremacy and display his learning, 
accepted the appeal ; and resolved to mix, in a very unfair 
manner, the magistrate with the disputant. Public notice was 
given that he intended to enter the lists with the schoolmaster : 
scaffolds were erected in Westminster Hall, for the accom- 
modation of the audience : Henry appeared on his throne, 
accompanied with all the ensigns of majesty : the prelates 
were placed on his right hand ; the temporal peers on his left. 
The judges and most eminent lawyers had a place assigned 
them behind the bishops ; the courtiers of greatest distinction 
behind the peers ; and in the midst of this splendid assembly 
was produced the unhappy Lambert, who was required to 
defend his opinions against his royal antagonist.* 

The bishop of Chichester opened the conference, by saying, 
that Lambert, being charged with heretical pravity, had ap- 
pealed from his bishop to the king ; as if he expected more 
favor from this application, and as if the king could ever be 
induced to protect a heretic : that though his majesty had 
thrown off the usurpations of the see of Home ; had disincor- 
porated some idle monks, who lived like drones in a beehive ; 
had abolished the idolatrous worship of images ; had published 
the Bible in English, for the instruction of all his subjects ; 
and had made some lesser alterations, which every one must 
approve of; yet was he determined to maintain the purity of 
the Catholic faith, and to punish with the utmost severity all 
departure from it ; and that he had taken the present oppor- 
tunity, before so learned and grave an audience, of convincing 
Lambert of his errors ; but if he still continued obstinate in 
them, he must expect the most condign punishment.! 

After this preamble, which was not very encouraging, the 
king asked Lambert, with a stern countenance, what his opinion 



* Fox, voi. ii. p. 420 t Goodwin's Anna's 



ii52 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1538 

was of Christ's corporal presence in the sacrament of the 
altar ; and when Lambert began his reply with seme compli- 
ment to his majesty, he rejected the praise with disdain and 
indignation. He afterwards pressed Lambert with arguments 
drawn from Scripture and the schoolmen : the audience ap- 
plauded the force of his reasoning, and the extent of his eru- 
dition : Cranmer seconded his proofs by some new topics I 
Gardiner entered the lists as a support to Cranmer : Tonsta] 
took up the argument after Gardiner : Stokesley brought fresh 
aid to Tonstal ; six bishops more appeared successively in the 
field after Stokesley. And the disputation, if it deserve the 
name, was prolonged for five hours ; till Lambert, fatigued, 
confounded, browbeaten, and abashed, was at last reduced to 
silence. The king, then returning to the charge, asked him 
whether he were convinced ; and he proposed, as a concluding 
argument, this interesting question : Whether he were re- 
solved to live or to die ? Lambert, who possessed that cour- 
age which consists in obstinacy, replied, that he cast himself 
wholly on his majesty's clemency : the king told him that he 
would be no protector of heretics ; and, therefore, if that were 
his final answer, he must expect to be committed to the flames. 
Cromwell, as vicegerent, pronounced the sentence against him.* 

Lambert, whose vanity had probably incited him the more 
to persevere on account of the greatness of this public appear- 
ance, was not daunted by the terrors of the punishment to 
which he was condemned. His executioners took care tc 
make the sufferings of a man who had personally opposed 
the king as cruel as possible : he was burned at a slow fire ; 
his legs and thighs were consumed to the stumps ; and when 
there appeared no end to his torments, some of the guards, 
more merciful than the rest, lifted him on their halberts and 
threw him into the flames, where he was consumed. While 
they were employed in this friendly office, he cried aloud 
several times. " None but Christ, none but Christ ;" and these 
words were in his mouth when he expired.f 

Some few days before this execution, four Dutch Anabap- 
tists, three men and a woman, had fagots tied to their backs 
at Paul's Cross, and were burned in that manner. And a man 
and a woman of the same sect and country were burned in 
Sraithfield. t 

* See note N. at the end of the volume. 

t Fox's Acts and Monuments, p. 427. Burnet. 

I Stowe, p. - r i- r iQ. 



A. D. 1539] henry vin. 2&i 

[1539.] It was the unhappy fate of the English, vluring 
this age, that, when they labored under any grievance, they 
had not the satisfaction of expecting redress from parliament : 
on the contrary, they had reason to dread each meeting of 
that assembly, and were then sure of having tyranny con- 
verted into law, and aggravated, perhaps, with some circum- 
stance which the arbitrary prince and his ministers had not 
hitherto devised, or did not think proper of themselves to 
carry into execution. This abject servility never appeared 
more conspicuously than in a new parliament which the king 
now assembled, and which, if he had been so pleased, might 
have been the last that ever sat in England. But he found 
them too useful instruments of dominion ever to entertain 
thoughts of giving them a total exclusion. 

The chancellor opened the parliament by informing the 
house of lords, that it was his majesty's earnest desire to 
extirpate from his kingdom all diversity of opinion in matters 
of religion ; and as this undertaking was, he owned, import- 
ant and arduous, he desired them to choose a committee from 
among themselves, who might draw up certain articles of 
faith, and communicate them afterwards to the parliament. 
The lords named the vicar-general. Cromwell, now created a 
peer, the archbishops of Canterbury and York, the bishops of 
Durham, Carlisle, Worcester, Bath and Wells, Bangor, and 
Ely. The house might have seen what a hopeful task they 
had undertaken : this small committee itself was agitated 
with such diversity of opinion, that it could come to no con- 
tusion. The duke of Norfolk them moved in the house, 
that, since there were no hopes of having a report from the 
committee, the articles of faith intended to be established 
should be reduced to six ; and a new committee be appointed 
to draw an act with regard to them. As this peer was un 
derstood to speak the sense of the king, his motion was imme- 
diately complied with ; and, after a short prorogation, the bill 
of the "six articles," or the bloody bill, as the Protestants justly 
teamed it, was introduced, and having passed the two houses, 
received the royal assent. 

In this law the doctrine of the real presence was establish 
ed, the communion in one kind, the perpetual obligation of 
vows of chastity, the utility of private masses, the celibacy of 
the clergy, and the necessity of auricular confession. The 
denial of the first article, with regard to the real presence, 
► •.injected the person to death by c .re, and to the same forfeiture 



254 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. 1). lt>39 

as in cases of treason ; and admitted not the privilege of ab- 
juring : an unheard-of severity, and unknown to the inquisi- 
tion itself. The denial of any of the other five articles, even 
though recanted, was punishable by the forfeitureof goods and 
chattels, and imprisonment during the king's pleasure : an ob- 
stinate adherence to error, or a relapse, was adjudged to be 
felony, and punishable with death. The marriage of priests 
was subjected t: the same punishment. Their commerce with 
women was, on the first offence, forfeiture and imprisonment ; 
on the second, death. The abstaining from confession, and 
from receiving the eucharist at the accustomed times, subject 
ed the person to fine, and to imprisonment during the king's 
pleasure ; and if the criminal persevered after conviction, he 
was punishable by death and forfeiture, as in cases of felony.* 
Commissioners were to be appointed by the king for inquiring 
into these heresies and irregular practices ; and the criminals 
were to be tried by a jury. 

The king in framing this law laid his oppressive hand on 
both parties ; and even the Catholics had reason to complain, 
that the friars and nuns, though dismissed their convent, should 
be capriciously restrained to the practice of celibacy :t but as 
the Protestants were chiefly exposed to the severity of the stat- 
ute, the misery of adversaries, according to the usual maxims 
of party, was regarded by the adherents to the ancient religion 
as their own prosperity and triumph. Cranmer had the cour- 
age to oppose this bill in the house ; and though the king de- 
sired him to absent himself, he could not be prevailed on to give 
this proof of compliance. $ Henry was accustomed to Cran- 
mer's freedom and sincerity ; and being convinced of the gen- 
eral rectitude of his intentions, gave him an unusual indulgence 
in this particular, and never allowed even a whisper against 
him. That prelate, however, was now obliged, in obedience 
to the statute, to dismiss his wife, the niece of Osiander, a 
famous divine of Nuremburg ; $ and Henry, satisfied with this 
proof of submission, showed him his former countenance and 
favor. Latimer and Shaxton threw up their bishoprics on 
account of the law, and were committed to prison. 

The parliament, having thus resigned all their religious 
liberties, proceeded to an entire surrender of their civil ; and 

* 31 Henry VIII. c. 14. Herbert in Kennet, p. 219. 
t See note 0, at the end of the volume. 
t Burnet, vol. i. p. 249, 270. Fox ¥af. ii. p. 1037. 
4 Herbert in Kennet, p. 219. 



A. D. 1539.] henry vin. 25* 

without scruple or deliberation they mado, by one act, a total 
subversion of the English constitution. They gave to the 
king's proclamation the same force as to a statute enacted by 
parliament ; and to render the matter worse, if possible, they 
Framed this law, as if it were only declaratory, and were in- 
tended to explain the natural extent of royal authority. The 
preamble contains, that the king had formerly set forth severa 
proclamations which froward persons had wilfully contemned, 
not considering what a king, by his royal power, may do ; that 
this license might encourage offenders not only to disobey the 
laws of Almighty God, but also to dishonor the king's most 
royal majesty, " who may full ill bear it ;" that sudden emer- 
gencies often occur, which require speedy remedies, and cannot 
await the slow assembling and deliberations of parliament ; 
and that, though the king was empowered by his authority, 
derived from God, to consult the public good on these occasions, 
yet the opposition of refractory subjects might push him to 
extremity and violence : for these reasons the parliament, that 
they might remove all occasion of doubt, ascertained by a 
statute this prerogative of the crown, and enabled his majesty, 
with the advice of his council, to set forth proclamations en- 
joining obedience under whatever pains and penalties he should 
think proper ; and these proclamations were to have ^he force 
of perpetual laws.* 

"What proves either a stupid or a wilful blindness in the 
parliament, is, that they pretended, even after this statute, to 
maintain some limitations in the government ; and they en- 
acted, that no proclamation should deprive any person of his 
lawful possessions, liberties, inheritances, privileges, franchises ; 
nor yet infringe any common law or laudable custom of the 
realm. They did not consider, that no penalty could be in- 
flicted on the disobeying of proclamations, without invading 
some liberty or property of the subject ; and that the powei 
of enacting new laws, joined to the dispensing power then ex- 
ercised by the crown, amounted to a full legislative authority. 
It is true, the kings of England had always been accustomed 
from their own authority to issue proclamations, and to exact 
obedience to them ; and this prerogative was, no doubt, a 
strong symptom of absolute government : but still there waa 
a dilierence between a power which was exercised on a par- 
ticular emergence, and which must be justified by the present 



* 31 Henry VIF. c. 8. 



256 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1539 

expedience or necessity, and an authority inferred by a 
positive statute, which could no longer aar~ic of control 01 
limitation. 

Could any act be more opposite to the spirit of liberty than 
this laAV, it would have been another of the same parliament. 
They passed an act of attainder, not only against the marquis 
of Exeter, the lords Montacute, Darcy, Hussey, and others, 
who had been legally tried and condemned, but also against 
some persons of the highest quality, who had never been 
accused, or examined, or convicted. The violent hatred 
which Henry bore to Cardinal Pole had extended itself to all 
his friends and relations ; and his mother in particular, the 
countess of Salisbury, had on that account become extremely 
obnoxious to him. She was also accused of having employed 
her authority with her tenants, to hinder them from reading 
the new translation of the Bible ; of having procured bulls 
from Rome, which, it is said, had been seen at Coudray, her 
countiy seat ; and of having kept a correspondence with hei 
son, the cardinal ; but Henry found, either that these offences 
could not be proved, or that they would not by law be sub- 
jected to such severe punishments as he desired to inflict upon 
her. He resolved, therefore, to proceed in a more summary 
and more tyrannical manner ; and for that purpose he seni. 
Cromwell, who was but too obsequious to his will, to ask thu 
judges, whether the parliament could attaint a person who 
was forthcoming, without giving him any trial, or citing him 
to appear before them?* The judges replied, that it was a 
dangerous question ; and that the high court of parliament 
ought to give the example to inferior courts, of proceeding 
according to justice ; no inferior court could act in that ar- 
bitrary manner, and they thought that the parliament never 
would. Being pressed to give a more explicit answer, they 
replied, that if a person were attainted in that manner, tha 
attainder could never afterwards be brought in question, but 
must remain good in law. Henry learned by this decision, 
that such a method of proceeding, though directly contrary to 
all the principles of equity, was yet practicable; and this being 
all he was anxious to know, he resolved to employ it against 
the countess of Salisbury. Cromwell showed to the house of 
peers a banner, on which were embroidered the five wounds 
of Christ, the symbol chosen by the northern rebels ; and this 



* Coke's -!lli fust. p. 37, CS. 



A. -J). 1539] henry vm. 257 

banner,. he affirmed, was found in the countess's hous*.* No 
other proof seems to have been produced in order to ascer- 
tain her guilt : the parliament, without further inquiry, passed 
a bill of attainder against her ; and they involved in the same 
bill, without any better proof, as far as appears, Gertrude, 
marchioness of Exeter, Sir Adrian Fortescue, and Sir Thomas 
Dingley. These two gentlemen were executed ; the mar 
ehioness was pardoned and survived the king ; the countess 
received a reprieve. 

The only beneficial act passed this session, was that by 
which the parliament confirmed the surrender of the monas- 
teries ; yet even this act contains much falsehood, much 
tyranny, and, were it not that all private rights must submit to 
public interest, much injustice and iniquity. The scheme of 
engaging the abbots to surrender their monasteries had been 
conducted, as may easily be imagined, with many invidious 
circumstances : arts of all kinds had been employed ; every 
motive that could work on the frailty of human nature had 
been set before them ; and it was with great difficulty that 
these dignified conventuals were brought to make a conces 
sion, which most of them regarded as destructive of theii 
interests, as well as sacrilegious and criminal in itself.t Three 
ibbots had shown more constancy than the rest, the abbots 
of Colchester, Reading, and Glastenbury ; and in order to 
punish them for their opposition, and make them an example 
to others, means had been found to convict them of treason ; 
they had perished by the hands of the executioner, and the 
revenue of the convents had been forfeited. $ Besides, though 
none of these violences had taken place, the king knew that a 
surrender made by men who were only tenants for life, would 
not bear examination ; and he was therefore resolved to make 
ill sure by his usual expedient, an act of parliament. In the 
preamble to this act, the parliament asserts, that all the sur- 
renders made by the abbots had been " without constraint, of 
their own accord, and according to due course of common 
law." And in consequence, the two houses confirm the sur- 
renders, and secure the property of the abbey lands to the 
king and his successors forever. $ It is remarkable, that all 
the mitred abbots still sat in the house of peers, and that none 
»f them made any protests against this injurious statute. 



* Ryiuer, rol. xiv. p. C52 t Collier, vol. ii. p. l.'SS e* seq. 

t 31 Henry VIII. c. 10. I 31 P.er.ry VIII. c 13 



258 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1539 

In this session, the rank of all the great officers of state was 
fixed : Cromwell, as vicegerent had the presidency assigned 
him above all of them. It was thought singular, that a black 
smith's son, for he was no other, should have place next the 
royal family ; and that a man possessed of no manner of liter- 
ature should be set at the head of the church. 

As soon as the act of the six articles had passed, the Catho- 
lics were extremely vigilant in informing against offenders ; 
and no less than five hundred persons were in a little time 
thrown into prison. But Cromwell, who had not had interest 
enough to prevent that act, was able for the present to elude 
its execution. Seconded by the duke of Suffolk and Chancel- 
lor Audley, as well as by Cranmcr, he remonstrated against 
the cruelty of punishing so many delinquents ; and he obtained 
permission to set them at liberty. The uncertainty of the 
king's humor gave each party an opportunity of triumphing 
in its turn. No sooner had Henry passed this law, which 
seemed to inflict so deep a wound on the reformers, than he 
granted a general permission for every one to have the new 
translation of the Bible in his family ; a concession regarded 
by that party as an important victory. 

But as Henry was observed to be much governed by his 
wives while he retained his fondness for them, the final prev- 
alence of either party seemed much to depend on the choice 
of the future queen. Immediately after the death of Jane 
Seymour, the most beloved of all his wives, he began to think 
of a new marriage. He first cast his eye towards the duchess 
dowager of Milan, niece to the emperor ; and he made pro- 
posals for that alliance. But meeting with difficulties, he was 
carried by his friendship for Francis rather to think of a 
French princess. He demanded the duchess dowager of 
Longueville, daughter of the duke of Guise, a prince of the 
house of Lorraine ; but 'Francis told him, that the lady was 
already betrothed to the king ot Scotland. The king, how- 
ever, would not take a refusal : he had set his heart extremely 
on the match : the information which he had received of the 
duchess's accomplishments and beauty, had prepossessed him 
in her favor ; and having privately sent over Meautys to exam- 
ine her person, and get certain intelligence of her conduct, 
the accounts which that agent brought him served further to 
inflame his desires. He learned that she was big made ; and 
he thought her en that account the more proper match foi 
him, who was now become somewhat corpulent, The pleas- 



A D. 1539. J HENF.Y VIET. 25$ 

Oft' too, of mortifying his nephew, whom he did not love, was 
a further incitement to his prosecution of this match ; and he 
insisted that Francis should give him the preference to the 
king of Scots. But Francis, though sensible that the alliance 
of England was of much greater importance to his interests, 
would not affront his friend and ally ; and to prevent further 
solicitation, he immediately sent the princess to Scotland. 
Not to shock, however, Henry's humor, Francis made him 
an offer of Mary of Bourbon, daughter of the duke of Ven- 
dome ; but as the king was informed that James had formerly 
rejected this princess he would not hear any further of such a 
proposal. The French monarch then offered him the choice 
of the two younger sisters of the queen of Scots ; and he 
assured him, that they were nowise inferior either in merit or 
size to their elder sister, and that one of them was even supe- 
rior m beauty. The king was as scrupulous with regard to 
the person of his wives, as if his heart had been really sus- 
ceptible of a delicate passion ; and he was unwilling to trust 
any relations, or even pictures, with regard to this important 
particular. He proposed to Francis, that they should have 
a conference at Calais on pretence of business ; and that this 
monarch should bring along with him the two princesses of 
Guise, together with the finest ladies of quality in France, that 
he might make a choice among them. But the gallant spirit 
of Francis was shocked with the proposal : he was impressed 
with too much regard, he said, for the fair sex, to carry ladies 
of the first quality like geldings to a market, there to be chosen 
or rejected by the humor of the purchaser.* Henry would 
hearken to none of these niceties, but still insisted on his 
proposal ; which, however, notwithstanding Francis's earnest 
desire of obliging him, was finally rejected. 

The king then began to turn his thoughts towards a Ger- 
man alliance ; and as the princes of the Smalcaldic league 
were extremely disgusted with the emperor on account of his 
persecuting their religion, he hoped, by matching himself into 
one of their families, to renew a connection which he regarded 
as so advantageous to him. Cromwell joyfully seconded this 
intention ; and proposed to him Anne of Cleves, whose father, 
the duke of that name, had great interest among the Lutheran 
princes, and whose sister, Sibylla, was married to the elector 
of Saxony, the head of the Protestant league. A flattering 



* Le Grand, vcl. iii. p. C3S 



260 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. |A. D. 1539 

pietv.re of the princess, by Hans Holben, determined Henry to 
apply to her father ; and after some negotiation, the marriage, 
notwithstanding the opposition of the elector of Saxony, was 
at last concluded ; and Anne was sent over to England. The 
king, impatient to be satisfied with regard to the person of his 
bride, came privately to Rochester and got a sight of her. He 
bund her big, indeed, and tall as he could wish ; but utterly 
destitute both of beauty and grace ; very unlike the pictures 
and representations which he had received : he swore she was 
j, great Flanders mare; and declared that he never could pos 
sibly bear her any affection. The matter was worse when he 
found that she could speak no language but Dutch, of which 
he was entirely ignorant ; and that the charms of her con- 
versation w r ei-e not likely to compensate for the homeliness of 
her person. He returned to Greenwich very melancholy; and 
he much lamented his hard fate to Cromwell, as well as to 
Lord Russel, Sir Anthony Brown, and Sir Anthony Denny 
This last gentleman, in order to give him comfort, told him, 
that his misfortune was common to him with all kings, who 
could not, like private persons, choose for themselves, but 
must receive their wives from the judgment and fancy of 
others. 

It was the subject of debate among the king's counsellor, 
whether the marriage could not yet be dissolved, and the 
princess be sent back to her own country. Henry's situation 
seemed at that time very critical. After the ten years' truce 
concluded between the emperor and the king of France, a 
good understanding was thought to have taken place between 
these rival monarchs ; and such marks of union appeared, as 
gave great jealousy to the court of England. The emperor, 
who knew the generous nature of Francis, even put a confi- 
dence in him which is rare to that degree among great princes. 
An insurrection had been raised in the Low Countries by the 
inhabitants of Ghent, and seemed to threaten the most dan- 
gerous consequences. Charles, who resided at that time in 
Spain, resolved to go in person to Flanders, in order to appease 
those disorders; but he found great difficulties in choosing the 
manner of his passing thither. The road by Italy and Ger- 
many was tedious : the voyage through the channel dangerous, 
by reason of the English naval power : he asked Francis's 
permission to pass through his dominions ; and he entrusted 
himself into the hands of a rival, whom he had so mortally 
offended. The French monarch received him at Paris with 



A. D. J540.[ henry vm. 261 

great magnificence and courtesy ; and though prompted both 
by revenge and interest, as well as by the advice of his mis- 
tress and favorites, to make advantage of the present oppor- 
tunity, he conducted the emperor safely out of his dominions ; 
and would not so much as speak to him of business during his 
abode in France, lest his demands should bear the air of vio- 
lence upon his royal guest. 

Henry, who was informed of all these particulars, believed 
that an entire and cordial union had taken place between 
these princes ; and that their religious zeal might prompt them 
to fall with combined arms upon England.* An alliance with 
the German princes seemed now more than ever requisite for 
his interest and safety ; and he knew that if he sent back the 
princess of Cleves, such an affront would be highly resented 
by her friends and family. [1540.] He was therefore re- 
solved, notwithstanding his aversion to her, to complete the 
marriage ; and he told Cromwell, that, since matters had gone 
so far he must put his neck into the yoke. Cromwell, who 
knew how much his own interests were concerned in this affair, 
was very anxious to learn from the king, next morning after the 
marriage, whether he now liked his spouse any better. The 
king told him, that he hated her worse than ever ; and that 
her person was more disgusting on a near approach ; he was 
resolved never to meddle with her : and even suspected her 
not to be a true maid : a point about which he entertained an 
extreme delicacy. He continued, however, to be civil to 
Anne ; he even seemed to repose his usual confidence in 
Cromwell ; but though he exerted this command over himself, 
a discontent lay lurking in his breast, and was ready to burst 
out on the first opportunity. 

A session of parliament was held ; and none of the abbots 
were now allowed a place in the house of peers. The king, 
by the mouth of the chancellor, complained to the parliament 
of the great diversity of religions which still prevailed among 
his subjects; a grievance, he affirmed, which ought the less 
to be endured, because the Scriptures were now published in 
English, and ought universally to be the standard of belief to 
all mankind. But he had appoir ted, he said, some bishops 
and divines to draw up a list of tenets to which his people 
were to assent ; and he was determined, that Christ, the doc- 
trine of Christ, and the truth, should have the victory. Tho 

* Stowe, p. f>79. 



262 HISTORY OF ENGLAND [A. D. 1540 

kinsr seems to have expected more effect in ascertaining truth, 
from this new book of his doctors, than had ensued from the 
publication of tne Scriptures. Cromwell, as vicar-general, 
made also in the king's name a speech to the upper house ; 
and the peers, in return, bestowed great flattery on him, and 
in particular said, that he was worthy, by his desert, to be 
vicar-general of the universe. That minister seemed to be nc 
less in his master's good graces : he received, soon after the 
sitting of the parliament, the title of earl of Essex, and was 
installed knight of the garter. 

There remained only one religious order in England ; the 
knights of St. John of Jerusalem, or the knights of Malta, as 
they are commonly called. This order, partly ecclesiastica] 
partly military, had by their valor done great service to Christen- 
dom ; and had very much retarded, at Jerusalem, Rhodes, 
and Malta, the rapid progress of the barbarians. During the 
general surrender of the religious houses in England, they 
had exerted their spirit, and had obstinately refused to yield 
up their revenues to the king ; and Henry, who would endure 
no society that professed obedience to the pope, Avas obliged 
to have recourse to parliament for the dissolution of this order. 
Their revenues were large ; and formed an addition nowise 
contemptible to the many acquisitions which the king had 
already made. But he had very ill husbanded the great 
revenue acquired by the plunder of the church : his profuse 
generosity dissipated faster than his rapacity could supply; 
and the parliament was surprised this session to find a demand 
made upon them of four tenths, and a subsidy of one shilling 
in the pound during two years : so ill were the public expec- 
tations answered, that the crown was never more to require 
any supply from the people. The commons, though lavish 
of their liberty, and of the blood of their fellow-subjects, were 
extremely frugal of their money ; and it was not without diffi- 
culty so small a grant could be obtained by this absolute and 
dreaded monarch. The convocation gave the king four shil- 
lings in the pound to be levied in two years. The pretext foe 
these grants was, the great expense which Henry had under- 
gone for the defence of the realm, in building forts along the 
seacoast, and in equipping a navy. As he had at present no 
ally on the continent in whom he reposed much confidence. 
he relied only on his domestic strength, and was on that 
account obliged to be more expensive in bin preparation* 
against the danger of an invasion. 



A.D. 104U.J henry vm. 263 

The king's favor to Cromwell, and his acquiescence in the 
marriage with Anne of Cleves, were both of them deceitful 
appearances : his aversion to the queen secretly increased 
every day ; and having at last broken all restraint, it prompted 
him at once to seek the dissolution of a marriage so odious to 
him, and to involve his minister in ruin, who had been the 
innocent author of it. The fall of Cromwell was hastened by 
other causes. All the nobility hated a man who, being of 
such low extraction, had not only mounted above them by hi« 
station of vicar-general, but had engrossed many of the other 
considerable offices of the crown : besides enjoying that com 
mission, which gave him a high and almost absolute authority 
over the clergy, and even over the laity, he was privy seal, 
chamberlain, and master of the wards : he had also obtained 
the order of the garter, a dignity which had ever been conferred 
only on men of illustrious families, and which seemed to bo 
profaned by its being communicated to so mean a person 
The people were averse to him, as the supposed author of the 
violence on the monasteries ; establishments which were still 
revered and beloved by the commonalty. The Catholics 
regarded him as the concealed enemy of their religion : the 
Protestants, observing his exterior concurrence with all the 
persecutions exercised against them, were inclined to bear him 
as little favor ; and reproached him with the timidity, if not 
treachery, of his conduct. And the king, who found that grea. 
clamors had on all hands arisen against the administration, wai 
not displeased to throw on Cromwell the load of public hatred ; 
and he hoped, by making so easy a sacrifice, to regain the 
iffections of his subjects. 

But there was another cause which suddenly set all these 
motives in action, and brought about an unexpected revolution 
in the ministry. The king had fixed his affection on Catha- 
rine Howard, niece to the duke of Norfolk ; and being deter- 
mined to gratify this new passion, he could find no expedient, 
but by procuring a divorce from his present consort, to raise 
Catharine to his bed and throne. The duke, who had long 
been engaged in enmity with Cromwell, made the same use 
of her insinuations to ruin this minister, that he had formerly 
done of Anne Boleyn's against Wolsey ; and when all engines 
were prepared, he obtained a commission from the king to 
arrest Cromwell at the council table, on an accusation of high 
treason, and to commit him to the Tower. Immediately after, 
a bill of attainder was framed against him : and (h^ house oi 



264 nisTORY of England. [A. D 1540. 

peers thought proper, without trial, examination, or evidence, 
to condemn to death a man, whom a few days hefore they had 
declared worthy to be vicar-general of the universe. The 
house of commons passed the bill, though not without some 
opposition. Cromwell was accused of heresy and treason ; 
but the proofs of his treasonable practices are utterly improba- 
ble, and even absolutely ridiculous.* The only circumstance 
qf his conduct by which he seems to have merited this fate, 
was his being the instrument of the king's tyranny in conduct- 
ing like iniquitous bills, in the preceding session, against the 
countess of Salisbury and others. 

Cromwell endeavored to soften the king by the most humble 
supplications ; but all to no purpose : it was not the practice 
of that prince to ruin his ministers and favorites by halves ; 
and though the unhappy prisoner once wrote to him in so 
moving a strain as even to draw tears from his eyes, he 
hardened himself against all movements of pity, and refused 
his pardon. The conclusion of Cromwell's letter ran in these 
words : " T, a most woful prisoner, am ready to submit to 
death when it shall please God and your majesty ; and yet tho 
frail flesh incites me to call to yeur grace for mercy and par- 
don of mine offences. Written at the Tower, with the heavy 
heart and trembling hand of your highness's most miserable 
prisoner and poor slave, Thomas Cromwell." And a little 
below, " Most gracious prince, I cry for mercy, mercy, mer- 
cy."! When brought to the place of execution, he avoided 
all earnest protestations of his innocence, and all complaints 
against the sentence pronounced upon him. He knew that 
Henry would resent on his son those symptoms of opposition 
to his will, and that his death alone would not terminate that 
monarch's vengeance. He was a man of prudence, industry, 
and abilities ; worthy of a better master and of a better fate. 
Though raised to the summit of power from a low origin, he 
betrayed no insolence or contempt towards his inferiors ; and 
was careful to remember all the obligations which, during 
his more humble fortune, he had owed to any one. He had 
served as a private sentinel in the Italian wars ; when he 
received some good offices from a Lucquese merchant, who 
had entirely forgotten his person, as well as the service which 
he had rendered him. Cromwell, in his grandeur, happened 
at London to cast his eye on his benefactor, now reduced 



* Burnet, vol. i. p. 27S. 1 Burnet, vol. i. p. 281, 282. 



A. D. 1O40.J henkv vm 2Go 

to poverty by misfortunes. He immediately sent f< r him, 
reminded him of their ancient friendship, and by his grateful 
assistance reinstated him in his former prosperity and opu- 
lence.* 

The measures for divorcing Henry from Anne of Clevea 
were carried on at the same time with the bill of attainder 
against Cromwell. The house of peers, in conjunction with 
the commons, applied to the king by petition, desiring that he 
would allow his marriage to be examined; and orders were 
immediately given to lay the matter before the convocation. 
A.nne had formerly been contracted by her father to the duke 
of Lorraine; but she, as well as the duke, were at that time 
ander age, and the contract had been afterwards annulled by 
consent of both parties. 

The king, however, pleaded this precontract as a ground of 
divorce ; and he added two reasons more, which may seem a 
little extraordinary ; that, when he espoused Anne he had not 
inwardly given his consent, and that he had not thought 
proper to consummate the marriage. The convocation was 
satisfied with these reasons, and solemnly annulled the mar- 
riage between the king and queen : the parliament ratified the 
decision of the clergy ; t and the sentence was soon after 
notified to the princess. 

Anne was blest with a happy insensibility of temper, even 
in the points which the most nearly affect her sex ; and the 
king's aversion towards her, as well as his prosecution of the 
divorce, had never given her the least uneasiness. She wil- 
lingly hearkened to terms of accommodation with him ; and 
when he offered to adopt her as his sister, to give her place 
next the queen and his own daughter, and to make a settle- 
ment of three thousand pounds a year upon her ; she accepted 
of the conditions, and gave her consent to the divoroe. $ She 
even wrote to her brother, (for her father was now dead,) that 
she had been very well used in England, and desired him to 
live on good terms with the king. The only instance of pride 
which she betrayed was, that she refused to return to her own 
country after the affront which she had received ; and she 
lived and died in England. 

Notwithstanding Anne's moderation, this incident produced 
% great coldness between the king and the German pilncer ; 

* Burnet, vol. i. p, 172. 

t See note P, at the end of the volume 

J Herbert, p 4-">S. 45Q 

v v in.— M 



26b HISTORTf OF ETSGLAND. {A. D. 154U 

but as the situation of Europe was now much altered, Henrv 
was the more indifferent about their resentment. The closa 
intimacy which had taken place between Francis and Charles 
had subsisted during a very short time : the dissimilarity of 
their characters soon renewed, with greater violence than ever, 
their former jealousy and hatred. While Charles remained at 
Paris, Francis had been imprudently engaged, by his open 
temper, and by that satisfaction which a noble mind naturally 
feels in performing generous actions, to make in confidence 
some dangerous discoveries to that interested monarch ; and 
having now lost all suspicion of his rival, he hoped that the 
emperor and he, supporting each other, might neglect every 
other alliance. He not only communicated to his guest the 
state of his negotiations with Sultan Solyman and the Vene- 
tians ; he also laid open the solicitations which he had received 
from the court of England to enter into a confederacy against 
him.* Charles had no sooner reached his own dominions, 
than he showed himself unworthy of the friendly reception 
which he had met with. He absolutely refused to fulfil his 
promise, and put the duke of Orleans in possession of the 
Milanese ; he informed Solyman and the senate of Venice of 
the treatment which they had received from their ally ; and 
he took care that Henry should not be ignorant how readily 
Francis had abandoned his ancient friend, to whom he owed 
such important obligations, and had sacrificed him to a new 
confederate : he even poisoned and misrepresented many things 
which the unsuspecting heart of the French monarch had 
disclosed to him. Had Henry possessed true judgment and 
generosity, this incident alone had been sufficient to guide him 
in the choice of his ally. But his domineering pride carried 
him immediately to renounce the friendship of Francis, who 
had so unexpectedly given the preference to the emperor ; and 
as Charles invited him to a renewal of ancient amity, he 
willingly accepted of the offer; and thinking himself secure in 
this alliance, he neglected the friendship both of France and 
of the German princes. 

The new turn which Henry had taken with regard to foreign 
affairs was extremely agreeable to his Catholic subjects ; and 
a& it had perhaps contributed, among other reasons, to the ruin 
of Cromwell, it made them entertain hopes of a final preva- 
lence over their antagonists. The marriage of the king with 

* Pere Daniel. Du Tiilet. 



A D. 15-10.] henry vin. 267 

Catharine Howard, which followed soon after his divorce from 
Anne of Cleves, was also regarded as a favorable incident to 
their party ; and the subsequent events corresponded to theii 
expectations. The king's councils being now directed by 
Norfolk and Gardiner, a furious persecution commenced 
against the Protestants ; and the law of the six articles was 
executed with rigor. Dr. Barnes, who had been the cause of ' 
Lambert's execution, felt, in his turn, the severity of the per- 
secuting spirit ; and, by a bill which passed in parliament, he 
was, without trial, condemned to the flames, together with 
Jerome and Gerrard. He discussed theological questions even 
at the stake ; and as the dispute between him and the sheriff 
turned upon the invocation of saints, he said, that he doubted 
whether the saints could pray for us ; but if they could, he 
hoped in half an hour to be praying for the sheriff and all the 
spectators. He next entreated the sheriff to carry to the king 
his dying request, which he fondly imagined would have author- 
ity with that monarch who had sent him to the stake. The 
purport of his request was, that Henry, besides repressing su- 
perstitious ceremonies, should be extremly vigilant in prevent- 
ing fornication and common swearing.* 

While Henry was exerting this violence against the Protest- 
ants, he spared not the Catholics who denied his supremacy ; 
and a foreigner, at that time in England, had reason to say, 
that those who were against the pope were burned, and those 
who were for him were hanged. t The king even displayed in 
an ostentatious manner this tyrannical impartiality, which re- 
duced both parties to subjection, and infused terror into every 
breast. Barnes, Gerrard, and Jerome had been carried to the 
place of execution on three hurdles ; and along with them 
there was placed on each hurdle a Catholic, who was also 
executed for his religion. These Catholics were Abel, Fether- 
stone, and Powel, who declared, that the most grievous part 
of their punishment was the being coupled to such heretical 
miscreants as suffered with them, t 

Though the spirit of the English seemed to be totally sunk 
under the despotic power of Henry, there appeared some 
symptoms of discontent. An inconsiderable rebellion broke 
out in Yorkshire, headed by Sir John Nevil ; but it was soon 
suppressed, and Nevil, with other ringleaders, was executed '. 



* Burnet, vol. i. p. 298. Fox. t Fox, vol. ii. p. 529 

i Saunders, de Schism. Angl- 



26tf HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1541 

The rebels were supposed to have been instigated by the 
intrigues of Cardinal Pole ; and the king was instantly deter- 
mined to make the countess of Salisbury, who already lay 
under sentence of death, suffer for her son's offences. He 
ordered her to be carried to execution ; and this venerable 
matron maintained still, in these distressful circumstances, the 
spirit of that long race of rnonarchs from whom she was 
descended.* She refused to lay her head on the block, or 
submit to a sentence where she had received no trial. She 
told the executioner, that if he would have her head, he must 
win it the best way he could: and thus, shaking her venerable 
gray locks, she ran about the scaffold ; and the executioner 
followed with his axe, aiming many fruitless blows at her 
neck, before he was able to give the fatal stroke. Thus 
perished the last of the line of Plantagenet, which, with great 
glory, but still greater crimes and misfortunes, had governed 
England for the space of three hundred years. Lord Leonard 
Grey, a man who had formerly rendered service to the crown, 
was also beheaded for treason, soon after the countess of 
Salisbury. We know little concerning the grounds of hi?, 
prosecution. 

[1511.] The insurrection in the north engaged Henry to 
make a progress thither, in order to quiet the minds of his 
people, to reconcile them to his government, and to abolish 
the ancient superstitions, to which those parts were much 
addicted. He had also another motive for this journey : he 
purposed to have a conference at York with his nephew the 
king of Scotland, and, if possible, to cement a close and in- 
dissoluble union with that kingdom. 

The same spirit of religious innovation which had seized 
other parts of Europe had made its way into Scotland, and 
had begun, before this period, to excite the same jealousies, 
fears, and persecutions. About the year 1527, Patrick Ham 
llton, a young man of a noble family, having been created 
abbot of Feme, was sent abroad for his education, but had 
fallen into company with some reformers ; and he returned 
into his own country very ill disposed towards that church, 
of which his birth and his merit entitled him to attain the 
highest dignities. The fervor of youth and his zeal for nov- 
el tj" made it impossible for him to conceal his sentiments ; 
and Campbell, prior of the Dominicans, who, under color of 

* Herbert p. -16S. 



A. D. 1541] henry vm. 2by 

friendship, and a sympathy in opinion, had insinuated nirn 
self into his confidence, accused him before Beaton, arch 
bishop of St. Andrews. Hamilton was invited to St. Andrews, 
in order to maintain with some of the clergy a dispute con- 
cerning the controverted points ; and after much reasoning 
with regard to justification, free will, original sin, and other 
topics of that nature, the conference ended with their con 
demning Hamilton to be burned for his errors. The young 
man, who had been deaf to the insinuations of ambition, was 
less likely to be shaken with the fears of death ; while he 
proposed to himself, both the glory of bearing testimony to 
the truth, and the immediate reward attending his martyrdom. 
The people, who compassionated his youth, his virtue, and 
his noble birth, were much moved at the constancy of hi? 
end ; and an incident which soon followed still more con- 
firmed them in their favorable sentiments towards him. He 
had cited Campbell, who still insulted him at the stake, to 
answer before the judgment seat of Christ ; and as that per- 
secutor, either astonished with these events, or overcome 
with remorse, or perhaps seized casually with a distemper, 
soon after lost his senses, and fell into a fever, of which he 
died ; the people regarded Hamilton as a prophet as well as 
a martyr.* 

Among the disciples converted by Hamilton, was one friar 
Forrest, who became a zealous preacher ; and who, though 
he did not openly discover his sentiments, was suspected to 
lean towards the new opinions. His diocesan, the bishop of 
Dunkel, enjoined him, when he met with a good epistle or 
good gospel, which favored the liberties of holy church, to 
preach on it, and let the rest alone. Forrest replied, that he 
had read both Old and New Testament, and had not found 
an ill epistle or ill gospel in any part of them. The extreme 
attachment to the Scriptures was regarded, in those days, as 
a sure characteristic of heresy ; and Forrest was soon after 
brought to trial, and condemned to the flames. While the 
priests were deliberating on the place of his execution, a 
bystander advised them to burn him in a cellar ; for that the 
smoke of Mr. Patrick Hamilton had infected all those on 
whom it blew. 

The clergy were at that time reduced to great difficulties 

* Spbtswootfs Hist, of the Church of Scotland, p. 02. 
+ Spotswood' ; fipfst. of the Chlirch of Scotland. }) 65. 



270 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. ; A.L>. 1041 

not only in Scotland, but all over Europe. As the reformers 
aimed at a total subversion of ancient establishments, which 
they represented as idolatrous, impious, detestable ; the priests, 
who found both their honors and properties at stake, thought 
that they had a right to resist, by every expedient, these danger- 
ous invaders, and that the same simple principles of equity 
which justified a man in killing a pirate or a robber, would 
acquit them for the execution of such heretics. A toleration ; 
though it is never acceptable to ecclesiastics, might, they said, 
be admitted in other cases ; but seemed an absurdity Avhere 
fundamentals were shaken, and where the possessions and 
even the existence of the established clergy were brought in 
danger. But though the church was thus carried by policy, 
as well as inclination, to kindle the fires of persecution, they 
found the success of this remedy very precarious ; and 
observed, that the enthusiastic zeal of the reformers, inflamed 
by punishment, was apt to prove contagious on the compas 
sionate minds of the spectators. The new doctrine, amidst 
all the dangers to which it was exposed, secretly spread itself 
every where ; and the minds of men were gradually disposed 
to a revolution in religion. 

But the most dangerous symptom for the clergy in Scot 
land was, that the nobility, from the example of England, 
had cast a wishful eye on the church revenues, and hoped, if 
a reformation took place, to enrich themselves by the plundei 
of the ecclesiastics. James himself, who was very poor, and 
was somewhat inclined to magnificence, particularly in build- 
ing, had been swayed by like motives ; and began to threaten 
the clergy with the same fate that had attended them in 
the neighboring country. Henry also never ceased exhorting 
his nephew to imitate his example ; and being moved, both 
by the pride of making proselytes, and the prospect of security, 
should Scotland embrace i close union with him, he solicited 
the king of Scots to meet him at York ; and he obtained a 
promise to that purpose. 

The ecclesiastics were alarmed at this resolution of James, 
and they employed every expedient in order to pi-event the 
execution of it. They represented the danger of innovation ; 
the pernicious consequences of aggrandizing the nobility, 
already too powerful ; the hazard of putting himself into the 
hands of the English, his hereditary enemies ; the depend- 
ence on them which must ensue upon his losing the friend- 
ship of France, and of all foreign powers. To these cm*- 



A D. ,541.] henry vm. 27 i 

siaerations they added the prospect of immediate interest, by 
which they found the king to be much governed : they offer- 
ed him a present gratuity of fifty thousand pounds : they 
promised him that the church should always be ready to 
contribute to his supply : and they pointed out to him the 
confiscation of heretics, as the means of filling his exchequer, 
and of adding a hundred thousand pounds a year to the 
crown revenues.* The insinuations of his new queen, to whom 
youth, beauty, and address had given a powerful influence 
over him, seconded all these reasons ; and James was at last 
engaged, first to delay his journey, then to send excuses to 
the king of England, who had already come to York in ordei 
to be present at the interview. t 

Henry, vexed with the disappointment, and enraged at the 
affront, vowed vengeance against his nephew ; and he began, 
by permitting piracies at sea and incursions at land, to put his 
threats in execution. But he received soon after, in his own 
family, an affront to which he was much more sensible, and 
which touched him in a point where he always showed an 
extreme delicacy. He had thought himself very happy in 
his new marriage : the agreeable person and disposition of 
Catharine had entirely captivated his affections ; and he made 
no secret of his devoted attachment to her. He had even 
publicly, in his chapel, returned solemn thanks to Heaven for 
"the felicity which the conjugal state afforded him ; and he 
directed the bishop of Lincoln to compose a form of prayer 
for that purpose. But the queen's conduct very little merit- 
ed this tenderness : one Lascelles brought intelligence of her 
dissolute life to Cranmer ; and told him that his sister, formerly 
i servant in the family of the old duchess of Norfolk,, with 
whom Catharine was educated, had given him a particular 
account of her licentious manners. Derham and Mannoc, 
both of them servants to the duchess, had been admitted to 
ker bed ; and she had even taken little care to conceal her 
*hame from the other servants of the family. The primate, 
struck with this intelligence, which it was equally dangerous 

* Buchanan, lib. xiv. Drummond in Ja. V. Pitscotie, ibid. Knox. 

t Henry had sent some books, richly ornamented, to his nephew, 
A'ho, as soon as he saw by the titles, that they had a tendency to 
4efend the new doctrines, threw them into the fire, in the presence 
of the person who brought them ; adding, it was better he should 
destroy them, than they him. See Epist. Reginald Pole, part i 
p. 172. 



272 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1541 

to conceal or to discover, communicated the matter to the eari 
of Hertford and to the chancellor. They agreed, that the 
matter should by no means be buried in silence ; and the 
archbishop himself seemed the most proper person to disclose 
it to the king. Cranmer, unwilling to speak on so delicate a 
subject, wrote a narrative of the whole, and conveyed it. to 
Henry, who was infinitely astonished at the intelligence. So 
confident was he of the fidelity of his consort, that at first ho 
gave no credit to the information ; and he said to the privy- 
seal, to Lord Russel, high admiral, Sir Anthony Brown, and 
Wriothesley, that he regarded the whole as a falsehood. 
Cranmer was now in a very perilous situation ; and had not 
full proof been found, certain and inevitable destruction hung 
over him. The king's impatience, however, and jealousy 
prompted him to search the matter to the bottom ; the privy- 
seal was ordered to examine Laseelles, who persisted in the 
information he had given ; and still appealed to his sister's 
testimony. That nobleman next made a journey, under pre- 
tence of hunting, and went to Sussex, where the woman at 
that time resided : he found her both constant in her former 
intelligence, and particular as to the facts ; and the whole 
bore but too much the face of probability. Mannoc and 
JDerham, who were arrested at the same time, and examined 
by the chancellor, made the queen's guilt entirely certain by 
their confession ; and discovered other particulars, which 
redounded still more to her dishonor. Three maids of the 
family were admitted into her secrets ; and some of them had 
even passed the night in bed with her and her lovers. All 
the examinations were laid before the king, who was so deeply 
affected, that he remained a long time speechless, and at last 
burst into tears. He found to his surprise, that his great skill 
in distinguishing a true maid, of which he boasted in the case 
of Anne of Cleves, had failed him in that of his present con- 
sort. The queen, being next questioned, denied her guilt ; 
but when informed that a full discovery was made, she con- 
fessed that she had been criminal before marriage ; and only 
insisted that she had never been fa.se to the king's bed. But 
as there was evidence that one Colepepper had passed the 
night with her alone since her marriage ; and as it appeared 
that she had taken Derham, her old paramour, into her service, 
Bhe seemed to deserve little credit in this asseveration ; and 
the king, besides, was not of a humor to make any difTerej*^ 
between these degrees of guilt. 



A.J>. 1542. 1 henry vm. *73 

[1542.] Henry found that he could not by any means so 
fully or expeditiously satiate his vengeance on all these crimi- 
nals as by assembling a parliament, the usual instrument of 
his tyranny. The two houses, having received the queen's 
confession, made an address to the king. They entreated 
him not to be vexed with this untoward accident, to which 
all men were subject ; but to consider the frailty of human 
nature, and the mutability of human affairs ; and from these; 
views to derive a subject of consolation. They desired leavt 
to pass a bill of attainder against the queen and her accom 
plices ; and they begged him to give his assent to this bill, no 
in person, which would renew his vexation, and might endan 
ger his health, but by commissioners appointed for that pur 
pose. And as there was a law in force making it treason tc 
speak ill of the queen as well as of the king, they craved hid 
royal pardon if any of them should, on the present occasion, 
have transgressed any part of the statute. 

Having obtained a gracious answer to these requests, the 
parliament proceeded to vote a bill of attainder lor treason 
against the queen, and the viscountess of Rocheford, who had 
conducted her secret amours ; and in this bill Colepepper and 
Derham were also comprehended. At the same time they 
passed a bill of attainder for misprision of treason against the 
old duchess of Norfolk, Catharine's grandmother ; her uncle, 
Lord William Howard, and his lady, together with the countess 
of Bridgewater, and nine persons more ; because they knew the 
queen's vicious course of life before her marriage, and had 
concealed it. This was an effect of Henry's usual extrava- 
gance, to expect that parents should so far forget the ties of 
natural afiection, and the sentiments of shame and decency, 
as to reveal to him the most secret disorders of their family. 
He himself seems to have been sensible of the cruelty of this 
proceeding ; for he pardoned the duchess of Norfolk and most 
of the others condemned for misprision of treason. 

However, to secure himself lor the future, as well as hia 
successors, from this fatal accident, he engaged the parliament 
to pass a law somewhat extraordinary. It was enacted, that 
any one who knew, or vehemently suspected, any guilt in the 
queen, might, within twenty days, disclose it to the king or 
council, without incurring the penalty of any former law 
against defaming the queen ; but prohibiting every one, at the 
game time, from spreading the matter abroad, or even pri- 
vately whispering it to others : it was also enacted, that if th« 

M* 



274 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A. D. 1543. 

king married any woman who had been incontinent, taking 
her for a true maid, she should be guilty of treason, if she 
did not previously reveal her guilt to him. The people mada 
merry with this singular clause, and said that the king must 
henceforth look out for a widow ; for no reputed maid would 
ever be persuaded to incur the penalty of the statute.* After 
all these laws were passed, the queen was beheaded on Tower 
Hill, together with Lady Rocheford. They behaved in a 
manner suitable to their dissolute life ; and as Lady Hoche- 
ford was known to he the chief instrument in bringing Anne 
Boleyn to her end, she died unpitied ; and men were further 
confirmed, by the discovery of this woman's guilt, in the 
favorable sentiments which they had entertained of that un- 
fortunate queen. 

The king made no demand of any subsidy from this par 
liament ; but he found means of enriching his exchequer from 
another quarter : he took further steps towards the dissolution 
of colleges, hospitals, and other foundations of that nature. 
The courtiers had been practising on the presidents and gov- 
ernors to make a surrender of their revenues to the king ; 
and they had been successful with eight of them. But there 
was an obstacle to their further progress : it had been pro- 
vided by the local statutes of most of these foundations, that 
no president, or any number of fellows, could consent to such 
a deed without the unanimous vote of all the fellows ; and 
this vote was not easily obtained. All such statutes were 
annulled by parliament ; and the revenues of these houses 
were now exposed to the rapacity of the king and his favor- 
ites.! The Church had been so long their prey, that nobody 
was surprised at any new inroads made upon her. From the 
tegular, Henry now proceeded to make devastations on the 
secular clergy. He extorted from many of the bishops a sur- 
render of chapter lands ; and by this device he pillaged the 
sees of Canterbury, York, and London, and enriched his greedy 
parasites and flatterers with their spoils. 

The clergy have been commonly so fortunate as to make a 
concern for their temporal interests go hand in hand with a 
jealousy lor orthodoxy ; and both these passions be regarded by 
the people, ignorant and superstitious, as proofs of zeal for 
religion : but the violent and headstrong character of Henry 



* Burnet, vol. i. p. 314. 

t See note Q. at the end of the volume. 



A..D 1542. | henry vra 273 

now disjoined these objects. His rapacity was gratified by 
plundering the church, his bigotry and arrogance by persecut- 
ing heretics. Though he engaged the parliament to mitigate 
the penalties of the six articles, so far as regards the marriage 
of priests, which was now only subjected to a forfeiture of 
goods, chattels, and lands during life, he was still equally bent 
on maintaining a rigid purity in speculative principles. He 
had appointed a commission, consisting of the two archbish- 
ops and several bishops of both provinces, together with a 
considerable number of doctors of divinity ; and by virtue of 
his ecclesiastical supremacy, he had given them in charge to 
choose a religion for his people. Before the commissioners 
had made any progress in this arduous undertaking, the par- 
liament, in 1541, had passed a law by which they ratified all 
the tenets which these divines should thereafter establish with 
the king's consent : and they were not ashamed of thus ex- 
pressly declaring that they took their religion upon trust, and 
had no other rule, in spiritual as well as temporal concerns, 
than the arbitrary will of their master. There is only one 
clause of the statute, which may seem at first sight to savor 
somewhat of the spirit of liberty : it was enacted, that the 
ecclesiastical commissioners should establish nothing repug- 
nant to the laws and statutes of the realm. But in reality this 
proviso was inserted by the king to serve his own purposes. 
By introducing a confusion and contradiction into the laws, he 
became more master of every one's life and property. And 
as the ancient independence of the church still gave him jeal- 
ousy, he was well pleased, under cover of such a clause, to in- 
troduce appeals from the spiritual to the civil courts. It was 
for a like reason that he would never promulgate a body of 
canon law ; and he encouraged the judges on all occasions to 
interpose in ecclesiastical causes, wherever they thought the 
law of royal prerogative concerned ; a happy innovation, 
though at first invented for arbitrary purposes. 

The king, armed by the authority of parliament, or rathei 
by their acknowledgment of that spiritual supremacy which he 
believed inherent in him, employed his commissioners to select 
a system of tenets for the assent and belief of the nation. A 
small volume was soon after published, called the Institution 
of a Christian Man, which was received by the convocation, 
and voted to be the standard of orthodoxy. All the delicate 
points of justification, faith, free will, good works, and grace 



276 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. ] 542, 

are there defined, with a leaning towards the opinion of tha 
reformers : the sacraments, which a few years before were 
aniy allowed to be three, were now increased to the number 
of seven, conformable to the sentiments of the Catholics. The 
king's caprice is discernible throughout the whole ; and the 
book is in reality to be regarded as his composition. For 
Henry, while he made his opinion a rule for the nation, would 
tie his own hands by no canon or authority, not even by any 
which he himself had formerly established. 

The people had occasion soon after to see a further instance 
of tho king's inconstancy. He was not long satisfied with his 
Institution of a Christian Man : he ordered a new book to be 
composed, called the Erudition of a Christian Man ; and with 
out asking the assent of the convocation, he published, by his 
,»wn authority and that of the parliament, this new model of 
orthodoxy. It differs from the Institution ; * but the king was 
no less positive in his new creed than he had been in the old ; 
and he required the belief of the nation to veer about at his 
signal. In both these compositions, he was particularly care- 
ful to inculcate the doctrine of passive obedience ; and he was 
equally careful to retain the nation in the practice. 

While the king was spreading his own books among the peo- 
ple, he seems to have been extremely perplexed, as were also 
the clergy, what course to take with the Scriptures. A review 
had been made by the synod of the new translation of the Bi- 
ble ; and Gardiner had proposed that, instead of employing En- 
glish expressions throughout, several Latin words should still 
be preserved ; because they contained, as he pretended, such 
peculiar energy and significance, that they had no correspond- 
ent terms in the vulgar tongue. t Among these were " eccle- 
sia, poenitentia, pontifex, contritus, holocausta, sacramentum, 
elementa, ceremonia, mysterium, presbyter, sacrificium, hu- 
militas, satisfactio, peccatum, gratia, hostia, charitas," etc. But 
as this mixture would have appeared extremely barbarous, and 
was plainly calculated for no other purpose than to retain the 
people in their ancient ignorance, the proposal was rejected. 
The knowledge of the people, however, at least their disputa- 
tive turn, seemed to be an inconvenience still more dangerous ," 
and the king and parliament, t soon after the publication of 



* Collier, vol. ii. p. 190. T Bur-.et, vol. i. p. 31J 

t Which met on the 22d of January, 1543. 



A.J). ] 012.1 HENRY VIII 27" 

the Scriptures, retracted the concession whici they had for- 
merly made ; and prohibited all but gentlemen and merchant! 
from perusing them.* Even that liberty was not granted with- 
out an apparent hesitation, and a dread of the consequences : 
these persons were allowed to read, "so it be done quietly and 
with good order." And the preamble to the act sets forth, 
" that many seditious and ignorant persons had abused the lib 
erty granted them of reading the Bible, and that great diver- 
sity of opinion, animosities, tumults, and schisms had been 
occasioned by perverting the sense of the Scriptures." I( 
peemed very difficult to reconcile the king's model for uniform- 
ity with the permission of free inquiry. 

The mass book also passed under the king's revisal ; anci 
little alteration was as yet made in it : some doubtful or ficti- 
tious saints only were struck out ; and the name of the pope 
was erased. This latter precaution was likewise used with re- 
gard to every new book that was printed, or even old book that 
was sold. The word " pope" was carefully omitted or blotted 
out;t as if that precaution could abolish the term from the 
language, or as if such a persecution of it did not rather im- 
print it more strongly in the memory of the people. 

The king took care about this time to clear the churches \ 
from another abuse which had crept into them. Plays, 
interludes, and farces were there often acted in derision of the 
former superstitions ; and the reverence of the multitude for 
ancient principles and modes of worship was thereby gradually 
effaced. | We do not hear that the Catholics attempted to \ 
retaliate by employing this powerful engine against their ad- 
versaries, or endeavored by like arts to expose that fanatical 
spirit by which it appears the reformers were frequently actu- 
ated. Perhaps the people were not disposed to relish a jest on 
that side . perhaps the greater simplicity and the more spiritual 
abstract worship of the Protestants gave less hold to ridicule, 
which is commonly founded on sensible representations. It 
was, therefore, a very agreeable concession which the king 
made to the Catholic party, to suppress entirely these religious 
comedies. 



* 33 Henry VIII. c. 1. The reading of the Bible, however, could 
not at that, time have much effect in England, where so few persona 
had learned to read. There were but five hundred copies printed of 
'.his first authorized edition of the Bible ; a book of which there are new 
6< veral millions of copies in the kingdom. 

f Pari. Hist. vol. iii. p. 113. t Burnet, vol. i. p. 3J» 



278 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. T A. D. 1 542 

Thus Henry labored incessantly by arguments, creeds, and 
penal statutes, to bring his subjects to a uniformity in their 
religious sentiments ; but as he entered himself with the great- 
est earnestness into all those scholastic disputes, he encouraged 
the people by his example to apply themselves to the study of 
theology ; and it was in vain afterwards to expect, howevei 
present fear might restrain their tongues or pens, that they 
would cordially agree in any set of tenets or opinions pre- 
scribed to them. 



A.D.1&42.) henry vni. 279 



CHAPTER XXXIII 

HENRY VIII. 

[1542.] Henry, being determined to avenge himself on 
the king of Scots for slighting the advances which he had 
made him, would gladly have obtained a supply from parlia- 
ment, in order to prosecute that enterprise ; hut as he did not 
think it prudent to discover his intentions, that assembly, con- 
formably to their frugal maxims, would understand no hints ; 
and the king was disappointed in his expectations. He con- 
tinued, however, to make preparations ibr war ; and as soon 
as he thought himself in a condition to invade Scotland, he 
published a manifesto, by which he endeavored to justify 
hostilities. He complained of James's breach of word in 
declining the promised interview, which was the real ground 
of the quarrel ; * but in order to give a more specious color- 
ing to the enterprise, he mentioned other injuries ; namely, 
that his nephew had granted protection to some English rebels 
and fugitives, and had detained some territory which, Henry 
pretended, belonged to England. He even revived the old 
claim to the vassalage of Scotland, and he summoned James 
to do homage to him as his liege lord and superior. He 
employed the duke of Norfolk, whom he called the scourge 
of the Scots, to command in the war : and though James 
sent the bishop of Aberdeen, and Sir James Learmont of 
Darsay, to appease his uncle, he would hearken to no terms 
of accommodation. While Norfolk was assembling his army 
at Newcastle, Sir Robert Bowes, attended by Sir Ralph 
Sadler, Sir Ralph Evers, Sir Brian Latoun, and others, made 
an incursion into Scotland, and advanced towards Jedburgh, 
with an intention of pillaging and destroying that town. The 
earl of Angus, and George Douglas, his brother, who had 
been many years banished their country, and had subsisted 
by Henry's bounty, joined the English army in this incursion ; 
and the forces commanded by Bowes exceeded four thousand 



* Buchanan, lib. xiv. Drumrnond ic Ja. V. 



280 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1542 

men. James had not been negligent in /is preparations lor 
defence, and had posted a considerable bod} r , under the com- 
mand of the earl of Huntley, for the protection of the bor- 
ders. Lord Hume, at the head of his vassals, was hastening 
to join Huntley, when he met with the English army ; and 
an action immediately ensued. During the engagement, the 
ibrces under Huntley began to appear ; and the English, 
afraid of being surrounded and overpowered, took to flight, 
and were pursued by the enemy. Evers, Latoun, and some 
other persons of distinction, were taken prisoners. A few only 
of small note fell in the skirmish.* 

The duke of Norfolk, meanwhile, began to move from his 
camp at Newcastle ; and being attended by the earls of 
Shrewsbury, Derby, Cumberland, Surrey, Hertford, Rutland, 
with many others of the nobility, he advanced to the borders. 
His forces amounted to above twenty thousand men ; and it 
required the utmost efforts of Scotland to resist such a for- 
midable armament. James had assembled his whole military 
force at Fala and Sautrey, and was ready to advance as soon 
as he should be informed of Norfolk's invading his kingdom. 
The English passed the Tweed at Berwick, and marched 
along the banks of the river as far as Kelso ; but hearing 
that James had collected near thirty thousand men, they re- 
passed the river at that village, and retreated into their own 
country. t The king of Scots, inflamed with a desire of mil- 
itary glory, and of revenge on his invaders, gave the signal 
for pursuing them, and carrying the war into England. He 
was surprised to find that his nobility, who were in general 
disaffected on account of the preference which he had giveR 
to the clergy, opposed this resolution, and refused to attend 
him in his projected enterprise. Enraged at this mutiny, he 
reproached them with cowardice, and threatened vengeance ; 
but still resolved, with the forces which adhered to him, to 
make an impression on the enemy. He sent ten thousand 
men to the western borders, who entered England at Solway 
Frith ; and he himself followed them at a small distance, ready 
to join them upon occasion. Disgusted, however, at the re- 
fractory disposition of his nobles, he sent a message to the 
army depriving Lord Maxwell, their general, of his commis- 
sion, and conferring the command on Oliver Sinclair, a private 
gentleman, who was his favorite. The army was extremely 



* Ruohanan. lib. xiv. i Bucl an:ui. lib. siv. 



A.D. 1543. j henry vm 2^1 

disgusted with this alteration, and was leady to disband, when 
a small body oi' English appeared, not exceeding five hundred 
men, under the command of Dacres and Musgrave. A panic 
seized the Scots, who immediately took to flight, and were 
pursued by the enemy. Few were killed in this rout ; for it 
was no action ; but a great many were taken prisoners, and 
some of the principal nobility : among these, the earls of Cas- 
silis and Glencairu, the lords Maxwel, Fleming, Somerville, 
Oliphant, Grey, who were all sent to London, and given in 
custody to different noblemen. 

The king of Scots, hearing of this disaster, was astonished ; 
and being naturally of a melancholic disposition, as well as 
endowed with a high spirit, he lost all command of his temper 
on this dismal occasion. Rage against his nobility, who, he 
believed, had betrayed him ; shame for a defeat by such un- 
equal numbers ; regret for the past, fear of the future ; all these 
passions so wrought upon him, that he would admit of no con- 
solation, but abandoned himself wholly to despair. His body 
was wasted by sympathy with his anxious* mind ; and even 
his life began to be thought in danger. He had no issue 
living; and hearing that his queen was safely delivered, he 
asked whether she had brought him a male or. a female child. 
Being told the latter, he turned himself in his bed : " The 
crown came with a woman," said he, "and it will go with 
one : many miseries await this poor kingdom : Henry will 
make it his own either by force of arms or by marriage." A 
few days after, he expired, in the flower of his age : a prince 
of considerable virtues and talents , well fitted, by his vigilance 
and personal courage, for repressing those disorders to which 
his kingdom, during that age, was so much exposed. He 
executed justice with impartiality and rigor ; but as he sup- 
ported the commonalty and the church against the rapine of 
the nobility, he escaped not the hatred of that order. The 
Protestant.} also, whom he opposed, have endeavored to throw 
many stains on his memory ; but have not been able to fix any 
considerable imputation upon him.* 

[1543.] Henry was no sooner informed of his victory and 
of the death of his nephew, than he projected, as James had 
foreseen, the scheme of uniting Scotland to his own dominions, 
by marrying his sop Edward to the heiress of that kingdom/I 

* See note R, at the ^nc 1 of 'he "olume. 

t Stowe, p. 5S4. Herbert. Burnet. Buci.ajoao. 



•?S2 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. |A,D. 1543 

He failed together the Scottish nobles who were his prison- 
ers ; and after reproaching them, in severe terms, for theii 
pretended breach of treaty, he began to soften his tone, and 
proposed to them this expedient, by which, he hoped, those 
disorders so prejudicial to both states, would for the future be 
orevented. He offered to bestow on them their liberty without 
ransom ; and only required of them engagements to favor the 
marriage of the prince of Wales with their young mistress 
They were easily prevailed on to give their assent to a proposal 
which seemed so natural and so advantageous to both king- 
doms ; and being conducted to Newcastle, they delivered to the 
duke of Norfolk hostages for their return, in case the intended 
nuptials were not completed ; and they thence proceeded to 
Scotland, where they found affairs in some confusion. 

The pope, observing his authority in Scotland to be in 
danger from the spreading of the new opinions, had bestowed 
on Beaton, the primate, the dignity of cardinal, in order to 
confer more influence upon him ; and that prelate had long 
been regarded as a prime minister to James, and as the head 
of that party which defended the ancient privileges and 
property of the ecclesiastics. Upon the death of his master, 
this man, apprehensive of the consequences both to his party 
and to himself, endeavored to keep possession of power ; and 
for that purpose he is accused of executing a deed which 
required a high degree of temerity. He forged, it is said, a 
will for the king, appointing himself and three noblemen more 
regents of the kingdom during the minority of the infant 
princess : * at least, — for historians are not well agreed in the 
circumstances of the fact, — he had read to James a paper of 
that import, to which that monarch, during the delirium which 
preceded his death, had given an imperfect assent and approba- 
tion. f By virtue of this will, Beaton had put himself in pos- 
session of the government ; and having united his interests 
with those of the queen dowager, he obtained the consent of 
the convention of states, and excluded the pretensions of the 
earl of Arran. 

James, earl of Arran, of the name of Hamilton, was next 
heir to the crown by his grandmother, daughter of James III. ; 
and on that account seemed best entitled to possess that high 
office into which the cardinal had intruded himself. The 



* Sadler's Letters, p. 161. Spotswood. p. 71. Buchanan, lib. xv. 
t John Knox, Hist, of the Reformation. 



A.D. 1543. j henry vm. 2S3 

prospect also of his succession after a princess who was in 
such tender infancy, procured him many partisans; and though 
his character indicated little spirit, activity, or ambition, a 
propensity which he had discovered for the new opinions had 
attached to him all the zealous promoters of those innovations. 
By means of these adherents, joined to the vassals of his own 
family, he had been able to make opposition to the cardinal's 
administration : and the suspicion of Beaton's forgery, with 
the accession of the noblemen who had been prisoners in Entj- 
■ fc nu, assisted too by some money sent from London, was able 
to turn the balance in his favor. The earl of Angus and his 
brother, having taken the present opportunity of returning into 
their native country, opposed the cardinal with all the credit 
of that powerful family ; and the majority of the convention 
had now embraced opposite interests to those which formerly 
prevailed. Arran was declared governor ; the cardinal was 
committed to custody under the care of Lord Seton ; and a 
negotiation was commenced with Sir B,alph Sadler, the Eng- 
lish ambassador, for the marriage of the infant queen with the 
prince of Wales. The following conditions were quickly 
agreed on : that the queen should remain in Scotland till she 
should be ten years of age ; that she should then be sent to 
England to be educated ; that six Scottish noblemen should 
immediately be delivered as hostages to Henry ; and that the 
kingdom, notwithstanding its union with England, should still 
retain its laws and privileges.* By means of these equitable 
conditions, the war between the nations, which had threatened 
Scotland with such dismal calamities, seemed to be fully com- 
posed, and to be changed into perpetual concord and amity. 

But the cardinal primate, having prevailed on Seton to re- 
store him to his liberty, was able, by his intrigues, to confound 
all these measures, which appeared so well concerted. He 
assembled the most considerable ecclesiastics ; and having 
represented to them the imminent danger to which their rev- 
enues and privileges were exposed, he persuaded them to col- 
lect privately from the clergy a large sum of money, by 
which, if intrusted to his management, he engaged to overturn 
the schemes of their enemies.! Besides the partisans whom 
he acquired by pecuniary motives, he roused up the zeal of 
those who were attached to the Catholic worship ; and he 
represented the union with England as the sure forerunner of 



* Sir Ralph Sadler's Letters. t Buchanan, lib xv. 



284 HlbTORY OT ENGLAND. [A. D. 1 r1<l3. 

ruin to the church and to the ancient religion. The national 
antipathy of the Scots to their southern neighbors was also an 
infallible engine by which the cardinal wrought upon the peo- 
ple ; and though the terror of Henry's arms, and their owe 
inability to make resistance, had procured a temporary assent 
to the alliance and marriage proposed, the settled habits of the 
lation produced an extreme aversion to those measures. The 
English ambassador and his retinue received many insults 
from persons whom the cardinal had instigated to commit 
those violences, in hopes of bringing on a rupture; but Sadler 
prudently dissembled the matter, and waited patiently till the 
day appointed for the delivery of the hostages. He then de- 
manded of the regent the performance of that important arti- 
cle ; but received for answer, that his authority was very 
precarious, that the nation had now taken a different impres- 
sion, and that it was not in his power to compel any of the 
nobility to deliver themselves as hostages to the English 
Sadler, foreseeing the consequence of this refusal, sent a sum- 
mons to all those who had been prisoners in England, and 
required them to fulfil the promise which they had given ot 
returning into custody. None of them showed so much sen- 
timent of honor as to fulfil their engagements, except Gilbert 
Kennedy, earl of Cassilis. Henry was so well pleased with 
the behavior of this nobleman, that he not only received him 
graciously, but honored him with presents, gave him his liber- 
ty, and sent him back to Scotland, with his two brothers 
whom he had left as hostages.* 

This behavior of the Scottish nobles, though it reflected dis- 
honor on the nation, was not disagreeable to the cardinal, who 
foresaw that all these persons would now be deeply interested 
to maintain their enmity and opposition to England. And as 
a war was soon expected with that kingdom, he found it neces- 
sary immediately to apply to France, and to crave the assist- 
ance of that ancient ally, during the present distresses of the 
Scottish nation. Though the French king was fully sensible* 
of his interest in supporting Scotland, a demand of aid could 
not have been made on him at a more unseasonable juncture 
His pretensions on the Milanese, and his resentment against 
Charles, had engaged him in a war with that potentate ; and 
having made great though fruitless efforts during the pre- 
ceding campaign he was the more disabled at present frori' 



* Buchanan, lib. xv. 



A.I). 1543.] henry vra. £8z- 

defending his own dominions, much more from granting any 
succor to the Scots. Matthew Stewart, earl of Lenox, a young 
nobleman of a great family, was at that time in the French 
court ; and Francis, being informed that he was engaged in 
ancient and hereditary enmity with the Hamiltons, who had 
murdered his father, sent him over to his native country, as a 
support to the cardinal and the queen mother : and he promised 
that a supply of money, and, if necessary, even military suc- 
cors, should soon be despatched after him. Arran, the gov- 
ernor, seeing all these preparations against him, assembled his 
friends, and made an attempt to get the person of the infant 
queen into his custody ; but being repulsed, he was obliged to 
come to an accommodation with his enemies, and to intrust 
that precious charge to four neutral persons, the heads of po- 
tent families, the Grahams, Areskines, Lindseys, and Leving- 
stones. The arrival of Lenox, in the midst of these transac- 
tions, served to render the victory of the French party over 
the English still more undisputable.* 

The opposition which Henry met with in Scotland from the 
French intrigues, excited his resentment, and further confirmed 
the resolution which he had already taken of breaking with 
France, and of uniting his arms with those of the emperor. He 
had other grounds of complaint against the French king ; which, 
though not of great importance, yet being recent, were able to 
overbalance those great injuries which he had formerly received 
from Charles. He pretended that Francis had engaged to 
imitate his example in separating himself entirely from the see 
of Rome, and that he had broken his promise in that particular. 
He was dissatisfied that James, his nephew, had been allowed 
to marry, first Magdalene of France, then a princess of the house 
of Guise ; and he considered these alliances as pledges which 
Francis gave of his intentions to support the Scots against the 
power of England. t He had been informed of some railleries 
which the French king had thrown out against his conduct 
with regard to his wives. He was disgusted that Francis, after 
go many obligations which he owed him, had sacrificed him 
to the emperor ; and, in the confidence of friendship, had 
rashly revealed his secrets to that subtle and interested mon- 
arch. And he complained that regular payments were never 
made of the sums due to him by France, and of the pension 
«vhish had been stipulated. Impelled by all these motives, he 



* Buchanan, lib. xv. Drummona t Fere Daniel 



2S6 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1543, 

alienated himself from his ancient friend and confederate, and 
formed a league with the emperor, who earnestly courted his 
alliance. This league, besides stipulations for mutual defence, 
contained a plan for invading France ; and the two monarchs 
agreed to enter Francis's dominions with an army, each of twen- 
ty-five thousand men ; and to require that prince to pay Henry 
all the sums which he owed him, and to consign Boulogne, 
Montreuii, Terouenne, and Ardres, as a security for the regulai 
payment of his pension for the future : in case these conditions 
were rejected, the confederate princes agreed to challenge, 
for Henry, the crown of France, or, in default of it, the 
duchies of Normandy, Aqnitaine, and Guienne ; for Charles 
the duchy of Burgundy, and some other territories.* That 
they might have a pretence for enforcing these claims, they 
sent a message to Francis, requiring him to renounce his alli- 
ance with Sultan Solyman, and to make reparation for all the 
prejudice which Christendom had sustained from that unnat- 
ural confederacy. Upon the French king's refusal, war was 
declared against him by the allies. It may be proper to remark, 
that the partisans of France objected to Charles's alliance with 
the heretical king of England, as no less obnoxious than that 
which Francis had contracted with Solyman : and they ob- 
served, that this league was a breach of the solemn promise 
which he had given to Clement VII., never to make peace or 
alliance with England. 

While the treaty with the emperor was negotiating, the 
king summoned a new session of parliament, in order to obtain 
supplies for his projected war with France. The parliament 
granted him a subsidy, to be paid in three years ; it was levied 
in a peculiar manner ; but exceeded not three shillings in the 
pound upon any individual. t The convocation gave the king 
six shillings in the pound, to be levied in three years. 
Greater sums were always, even during the establishment ol 
the Catholic religion, exacted from the clergy than from the 
laity ; which made the emperor Charles say, when Henry 

* Rymer, vol. xiv. p. 768 ; vol. xv. p. 2. 

t They who were worth, in goods, twenty shillings and upwa: ds to 
five pounds, paid fourpence of every pound : from five pounds to 
ten pounds, cightpence ; from ten pounds to twenty pounds, sixteen 
pence ; from twenty and upwards, two shillings. Lands, fees, and 
annuities, from twenty shillings to five pounds, paid eightpence in 
the pound; from five pounds to ten pounds, sixteen pence; from ten 
pounds to twenty pounds, two shillings; from twenty pounds and 
upwards, three shillings. 



A.D. 1543. { henry vm. 287 

dissolved the monasteries, and sold their revenues, or bestowed 
them on his nobility and courtiers, that he had killed the hen 
which brought him the golden eggs.* 

The parliament also facilitated the execution of the former 
law by which the king's proclamations were made equal to 
statutes : they appointed that any nine councillors should form 
a legal court for punishing all disobedience to proclamations. 
The total abolition of juries in criminal causes, as well as oi 
all parliaments, seemed, if the king had so pleased, the neces- 
sary consequence of this enormous law. He might issue a 
proclamation enjoining the execution of any penal statute, and 
afterwards try the criminals, not for breach of the statute, 
but for disobedience to his proclamation. It is remarkable, 
that Lord Mountjoy entered a protest against this law ; and it 
is equally remarkable that that protest is the only one entered 
against any public bill during this whole reign. t 

It was enacted | this session, that any spiritual person who 
preached or taught contrary to the doctrine contained in the 
king's book, the Erudition of a Christian Man, or contrary to 
any doctrine which he should thereafter promulgate, was to 
be admitted on the first conviction to renounce his error ; on 
the second, he was required to carry a fagot ; which if he 
refused to do, or fell into a third offence, he was to be burnt. 
But the laity, for the third offence, were only to forfeit their 
goods and chattels, and be liable to perpetual imprisonment. 
Indictments must be laid within a year after the offence, and 
the prisoner was allowed to bring witnesses for his exculpation. 
These penalties were lighter than those which were formerly 
imposed on a denial of the real presence : it was, however, 
subjoined in this statute, that the act of the six articles was still 
in force. But in order to make the king more entirely master 
of his people, it was enacted, that he might hereafter, at his 
pleasure, change this act, or any provision it it. By this 
clause, both parties were retained in subjection : so far as 
regarded religion, the king was invested, in the fullest manner, 
v/ith the sole legislative authority in his kingdom ; and all his 
subjects were, under the severest penalties, expressly bound 
to receive implicitly whatever doctrine he should please fa 
recommend to them. 

The reformers began to entertain hopes that this great 

* Collier, vol. ii. p. 176. t Burnet, vol. i. p. 322. 

t 34 and 35 Henry VIII. e. 1. 



288 HIS1VUY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 164S, 

power of the crown might still be employed in their favoi 
The king married Catharine Par, widow of Nevil, Lord Lati- 
mer ; a woman of virtue, and somewhat inclined to the new 
doctrine. By this marriage Henry confirmed what had ibr- 
merly been foretold in jest, that he would be obliged to espouse 
a widow. The king's league with the emperor seemed a cir- 
cumstance no less favorable to the Catholic party ; and thus 
matters remained still nearly balanced between the factions. 

The advantages gained by this powerful confederacy be- 
tween Henry and Charles, were inconsiderable during the 
present year. The campaign was opened with a victory 
gained by the duke of Cleves. Francis's ally, over the forces 
of the emperor :* Francis, in person, took the field early ; and 
made himself master, without resistance, of the whole duchy 
of Luxembourg : he afterwards took Landrecy, and added 
some fortifications to it. Charles, having at last assembled a 
powerful army, appeared in the Low Country ; and after 
taking almost every fortress in the duchy of Cleves, he reduced 
the duke 1o accept of the terms which he was pleased to pre- 
scribe to hnii. Being then joined by a body of six thousand 
English, he sat down before Landrecy, and covered the siege 
with an army of above forty thousand men. Francis advanced 
at the head of an army not much inferior ; as if he intended 
to give the emperor battle, or oblige him to raise the siege : 
but while these two rival monarchs were facing each other, 
aud all men were in expectation of some great event, the 
French king found means of throwing succor into Landrecy ; 
and having thus effected his purpose, he skilfully made a 
retreat. Charles, finding the season far advanced, despaired 
of success in his enterprise, and found it necessary to go into 
winter quarters. 

The vanity of Henry was flattered by the figure which he 
made in the great transactions on the continent ; but the 
interests of his kingdom were more deeply concerned in tho 
event of affairs in Scotland. Arran, the governor, was of so 
indolent and unambitious a character, that, had he not been 
stimulated by his friends and dependents, he never had aspired 
to any share in the administration ; and when he found him- 
self overpowered by the party of the queen dowager, the 
cardinal, «md the earl of Lenox, he was glad to accept of any 
Lefms of accommodation, however dishonorable He even 

* Mem. du Eellai, !ih. x. 



A. D. 1543. J henry vni. 280 

gave them a sure pledge of his sincerity, by renouncing the 
principles of the reformers, and reconciling himself to the Ro- 
mish communion in the Franciscan church at Stirling. By this 
weakness and levity, he lost his credit with the whole nation, 
and rendered the Protestants, who were hitherto the chief 
support of his power, his mortal enemies. The cardinal 
acquired an entire ascendant in the kingdom : the queen dow- 
ager placed implicit confidence in him : the governor was 
obliged to yield to him in every pretension : Lenox alone was 
become an obstacle to his measures, and reduced him to 
some difficulty. 

The inveterate enmity which had taken place between the 
families of Lenox and Arrau, made the interests of these 
two noblemen entirely incompatible ; and as the cardinal and 
the French party, in order to engage Lenox the more in their 
cause, had flattered him with the hopes of succeeding to the 
crown after their infant sovereign, this rivalship had tended 
still further to rouse the animosity of the Hamiltons. Lenox, 
too, had been encouraged to aspire to the marriage of the 
queen dowager, which would have given him some preten- 
sions to the regency ; and as he was become assuming, on 
account of the services which he had rendered the party, the 
cardinal found that, since he must choose between the friend- 
ship of Lenox and that of Arran, the latter nobleman, who was 
more easily governed, and who was invested with present 
authority, was in every respect preferable. Lenox, finding 
that he was not likely to succeed in his pretensions to the 
queen dowager, and that Arran, favored by the cardinal, had 
acquired the ascendant, retired to Dunbarton, the governor of 
which was entirely at his devotion ; he entered into a secret 
correspondence with the English court ; and he summoned 
his vassals and partisans to attend him. All those who were 
inclined to the Protestant religion, or were on any account 
discontented with the cardinal's administration, now regarded 
Lenox as the head of their party, and they readily made him 
a tender of their services. In a little time he had collected 
an army of ten thousand men, and he threatened his enemies 
with immediate destruction. The cardinal had no equal force 
to oppose to him ; but as he was a prudent man, he foresaw^ 
that Lenox could not long subsist so great an army, and he'- 
endeavored to gain time by opening a negotiation with him. 
Be seduced his followers by various artifices ; he prevailed 
on the Douglases to change party ; he represented to the 
"JL. in. — N 



290 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.]). 1644 

whole nation the danger of civil Avars and commotions ; and 
Lenox, observing the unequal contest in which he was 
engaged, was at last obliged to lay down his aims, and to ac- 
cept of an accommodation with the governor and the cardinal. 
Present peace was restored ; but no confidence took place 
between the parties. Lenox, fortifying his castles, and putting 
mmself in a posture of defence, waited the arrival Oi English 
succors, from whose assistance alone he expected to obtain 
the superiority over his enemies. 

[1514.] While the winter season restrained Henry from 
military operations, he summoned a new parliament, in which 
a law was passed, such as he was pleased to dictate, with 
legard to the succession of the crown. After declaring that 
the prince of Wales, or any of the king's male issue, were 
first and immediate heirs to the crown, the parliament restored 
the two princesses, Mary and Elizabeth, to their right of suc- 
cession. This seemed a reasonable piece of justice, and 
corrected what the king's former violence had thrown into 
confusion ; but it was impossible for Henry to do any thing, 
how laudable soever, without betraying, in some circumstance, 
his usual extravagance and caprice : though he opened the 
way ibr these two princesses to mount the throne, he woulc? 
not allow the acts to be reversed which had declared them 
illegitimate ; he made the parliament confer on him a power 
of still excluding them, if they refused to submit to any 
conditions which he should be pleased to impose ; and he 
required them to enact, that, in default of his own issue, he 
might dispose of the crown as he pleased, by will or letters 
patent. He did not probably foresee that, in proportion as he 
degraded the parliament, by rendering it the passive mstru- 
ment of his variable and violent inclinations, he taught ih« 
people to regard all its acts as invalid, and thereby defeated 
even the purposes which he was so bent to attain. 

An act passed, declaring that the king's usual style should 
be " king of England, France, and Ireland, defender of the 
faith, and on earth the supreme head of the church uf Eng- 
land and Ireland." It seemed a palpable inconsistency to 
retain the title of defender of the faith, which the court &i 
Rome had conferred on him for maintaining its cause against 
Luther ; and yet subjoin his ecclesiastical supremacy, in 
opposition to the claims of that court. 

An act also passed lor the remission of the debt which the 
king had lately contracted by a general loan levied upon ths 



A. D. 1544.] HENRY All. 201 

people. It will easily be believed, that after the former act oi 
this kind, the loan was not entirely voluntary.* But there was 
a peculiar circumstance attending the present statute, which 
none but Henry would have thought of; namely, that those 
who had already gotten payment, either in whole or in part, 
should refund the money to the exchequer. 

The oaths which Henry imposed for the security of his 
ecclesiastical model, were not more reasonable than his other 
measures. All his subjects of any distinction had already 
been obliged to renounce the pope's supremacy ; but as the 
clauses to which they swore had not been deemed entirely 
satisfactory, another oath was imposed ; and it was added, 
that all those who had taken the former oaths should be 
understood to have taken the new one ; f a strange supposi- 
tion ! to represent men as bound by an oath which they had 
never taken. 

The most commendable law to which the parliament gave 
their sanction, M r as that by which they mitigated the law of 
the six articles, and enacted, that no person should be put to 
his trial upon an accusation concerning any of the offences 
comprised in that sanguinary statute, except on the oath of 
twelve persons before commissioners authorized for the pur- 
pose ; and that no person should be arrested or committed to 
ward for any such offence before he was indicted. Any 
preacher accused of speaking in his sermon contrary to these 
articles, must be indicted within forty days. 

The king always experienced the limits of his authority 
whenever he demanded subsidies, however moderate, from 
the parliament ; and therefore, not to hazard a refusal, he 
made no mention this session of a supply : but as his wars 
both in France and Scotland, as well as his usual prodigality, 
had involved him in great expense, he had recourse to other 
methods of filling his exchequer. Notwithstanding the former 
abolition of his debts, he yet required new loans from his 
subjects ; and he enhanced gold from forty-five shillings to 
forty-eight an ounce, and silver from three shillings xnd nine- 
pen ze to four shillings. His pretence for this innovation was, 
to prevent the money from being exported ; as if that expedi- 
ent could any wise serve the purpose. He even coined some 
base money, and ordered it to be current by proclamation 
He named commissioners for levying a benevolence, and h« 



* 35 Henry VIII. c 12. t 35 Henry VIII. c. 1. 



292 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1544, 

extorted about seventy thousand pounds by this expedient. 
Read, alderman of London,* a man somewhat advanced in 
years, having refused to contribute, or not coming up to the 
expectation of the commissioners, was enrolled as a foot 
soldier in the Scottish wars, and was there taken prisoner. 
Roach, who had been equally refractory, was thrown into 
prison, and obtained not his liberty but by paying a large com- 
position.f These powers of the prerogative, (which at that 
time passed unquestioned,) the compelling of any man to serve 
in any office, and the imprisoning of any man during pleasure, 
not to mention tbe practice of extorting loans, rendered the 
sovereign in a manner absolute master of the person and prop- 
erty of every individual. 

Early this year the king sent a fleet and army to invade 
Scotland. The fleet consisted of near two hundred vessels, 
and carried on board ten thousand men. Dudley, Lord Lisle, 
commanded the sea forces ; the earl of Hertford the land 
The troops were disembarked near Leith ; and after dispers 
ing a small body which opposed them, they took that towr. 
without resistance, and then marched to Edinburgh. The 
gates were soon beaten down, (for little or no resistance was 
made,) and the English first pillaged, and then set fire to the 
city. The regent and cardinal were not prepared to oppose 
so great a force, and they fled to Stirling. Hertford marched 
eastward ; and being joined by a new body under Evers, 
warden of the east marches, he laid waste the whole country, 
burned and destroyed Haddington and Dunbar, then retreated 
into England ; having lost only forty men in the whole expe- 
dition. The earl of Arran collected some forces ; but finding 
that the English were already departed, he turned them 
against Lenox, who was justly suspected of a correspondence 
with the enemy. That nobleman, after making some resist- 
ance, was obliged to fly into England, where Henry settled a 
pension on him, and even gave him his niece, lady Margaret 
Douglas, in marriage. In return, Lenox stipulated conditions, 
by which, had he been able to execute them, he must have 
reduced his country to total servitude. X 

Henry's policy was blamed in this sudden and violent 
incursion, by which he inflamed the passions of the Scots, 



* Herbert. Stowe, p. 5S8. Baker, p. 292. 
t Goodwin's Annals. Stowe, p. 589 
t Rymer, vol. xv. p. 23, 29. 



A.D.I 544. J henry vm. 29? 

without subduing their spirits ; and it was commonly said, thai 
he did too much, if he intended to solicit an alliance, and too 
little, if he meant a conquest.* But the reason of his recall- 
ing the troops so soon, was his eagerness to carry on a pro- 
jected enterprise against France, in which he intended to 
employ the whole lorce of his kingdom. He had concerted 
a plan with the emperor, which threatened the total ruin of 
that monarchy, and must, as a necessary consequence, have 
involved the ruin of England. These two princes had agreed 
to invade France with forces amounting to above a hun- 
dred thousand men : Henry engaged to set out from Calais ; 
Charles from the Low Countries : they were to enter on no 
siege ; but leaving all the frontier towns behind them, to 
march directly to Paris, where they were to join their forces, 
and thence to proceed to the entire conquest of the kingdom. 
Francis could not oppose to these formidable preparations 
much above forty thousand men. 

Henry, having appointed the queen regent during his absence, 
passed over to Calais with thirty thousand men, accompanied 
by the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, Fitzalan earl of Arundel, 
Vere earl of Oxford, the carl of Surrey, Paulet Lord St. John, 
Lord Ferrars of Chartley, Lord Mountjoy, Lord Grey of 
Wilton, Sir Anthony Brown, Sir Francis Bryan, and the most 
nourishing nobility and gentry of his kingdom. The English 
army was soon joined by the count de Buren, admiral of 
Flanders, with ten thousand foot and lour thousand horse ; 
and the whole composed an army which nothing on that 
frontier was able to resist. The chief force of the French 
armies was drawn to the side of Champagne, in order to 
oppose the imperialists. 

The emperor, with an army of near sixty thousand men, 
had taken the field much earlier than Henry ; and not to 
lose time while he waited for the arrival of his confederate, 
lie sat down before Luxembourg, which was surrendered to 
him : he thence proceeded to Commercy, on the Meuse, 
which he took : Ligny met with the same fate : he next laid 
siege to St. Disier, on the Marne, which, though a weak place, 
made a brave resistance under the count of Sancerre, the gov 
ernor, and the siege was protracted beyond expectation. 

The emperor was employed before this town at the time 
the English forces were assembled in Picardy. Henry, 

* Herbert. Burnet. 



294 HISTORY OT ENGLAND. [A. D. 1544 

either t?mpted by the defenceless condition of the French 
frontier, or thinking that the emperor had first broken his 
engagement by forming sieges, or, perhaps, foreseeing at last 
the dangerous consequences of entirely subduing the French 
power, instead of marching forward to Paris, sat down before 
Montreuil and Boulogne. The duke of Norfolk commanded 
the army before Montreuil ; the king himself that before 
Boulogne. Vervin was governor of the latter place, and 
under him Philip Corse, a brave old soldier, who encouraged 
the garrison to defend themselves to the last extremity against 
the English. He was killed during the course of the siege, 
and the town was immediately surrendered to Henry by the 
cowardice of Vervin, who was afterwards beheaded for this 
dishonorable capitulation. 

During the course of this siege, Charles had taken St. 
Disier ; and finding the season much advanced, he began 
to hearken to a treaty of peace with France, since all his 
schemes for subduing that kingdom were likely to prove 
abortive. In order to have a pretence for deserting his ally, 
he sent a messenger to the English camp, requiring Henry 
immediately to fulfil his engagements, and to meet him with 
his army before Paris. Henry replied, that he was too far 
engaged in the siege of Boulogne to raise it with honor, and 
that the emperor himself had first broken the concert by 
besieging St. Disier. This answer served Charles as a suffi- 
cient reason for concluding a peace with Francis at Crepy, 
where no mention was made of England. He stipulated to 
give Flanders as a dowry to his daughter, whom he agreed tc 
marry to the duke of Orleans, Francis's second son ; and 
Francis, in return, withdrew his troops from Piedmont and 
Savoy, and renounced all claim to Milan, Naples, and other 
territories in Italy. This peace, so advantageous to Francis, 
was procured partly by the decisive victory obtained in the 
beginning of the campaign by the count of Anguyen over the 
imperialists at Cerisolles in Piedmont, partly by the emperor's 
great desire to turn his arms against the Protestant princes in 
Germany. Charles ordered his troops to separate from the 
English in Picardy ; and Henry, finding himself obliged to 
raise the siege of Montreuil, returned into England. Tlu9 
campaign served to the populace as matter of great triumph 
but all men of sense concluded, that the king had, as in all 
his former military enterprises, made, at a great expense, an 
acquisition wlrch was of no importance. 



A.. D. 1545.] h^nry vin. 295 

The war with Scotland, meanwhile, was conducted feebly. 
and with various success. Sir Ralph Eve.s, now Lord Evers. 
and Sir Bryan Latoun, made an inroad into that kingdom ; 
and having laid waste the counties of Tiviotdale and the 
Merse, they proceeded to the abbey of Coldingham, which 
they took possession of, and fortified. The governor assembled 
an army of eight thousand men, in order to dislodge them 
from this post ; but he had no sooner opened his batteries 
before the place, than a sudden panic seized him ; he left the 
army, and fled to Dunbar. He complained of the mutiny of 
\hs troops, and pretended apprehensions lest they should deliver 
nim into the hands of the English ; but his own unwarlike 
spirit was generally believed to have been the motive of his 
dishonorable flight. The Scottish army, upon the departure 
of their general, fell into confusion ; and had not Angus, with 
a few of his retainers, brought off the cannon, and protected 
their rear, the English might have gained great advantages 
over them. Evers, elated with this success, boasted to Henry, 
that he had conquered all Scotland to the Forth ; and he 
claimed a reward for this important service. The duke of 
Norfolk, who knew with what difficulty such acquisitions 
would be maintained against a warlike enemy, advised the 
king to grant him, as his reward, the conquests of which he 
boasted so highly. The next inroad made by the English 
showed the vanity of Evers's hopes. [1545.] This general 
ied about five thousand men into Tiviotdale, and was employed 
m ravaging that country ; when intelligence was brought him 
that some Scottish forces appeared near the abbey of Melross. 
Angus had roused the governor to more activity ; and a procla- 
mation being issued for assembling the troops of the neighbor- 
ing counties, a considerable body had repaired thither to oppose 
the enemy. Norman Lesly, son of the earl of Rothes, had 
also joined the army with some volunteers from Fife ; and he 
inspired courage into the whole, as well by this accession of 
force, as by his personal bravery and intrepidity. In order to 
bring their troops to the necessity of a steady defence, the 
Scottish leaders ordered all their cavalry to dismount, and 
they resolved to wait, on some high grounds near Ancram, 
the assault of the English. The English, whose past successes 
had taught them too much to despise the enemy, thought, 
when they saw the Scottish horses led off the field, that th 
whole army was retiring ; and they hastened to attack them. 
The Scots received them in good order; and beiiiir favored bv 



E9G HISTORY OF ENGLAND. |A.L> 104 

the advantage of the ground, as well as by the surprise of the 
English, who expected no resistance, they soon put them to 
flight, and pursued them with considerable slaughter. Evers 
and Latoun were both killed, and above a thousand men were 
made prisoners. In order to support the Scots in this war, 
Francis some time after sent over a body of auxiliaries, to the 
number of three thousand five hundred men, under the com- 
mand of Montgomery, lord of Lorges.* Retinforced by these 
succors, the governor assembled an army of fifteen thousand 
men at Haddington, and marched thence to ravage the east 
borders of England. He laid all waste wherever he came ; 
and having met with no considerable resistance, he retired 
into his own country, aud disbanded his army. The earl of 
Hertford, in revenge, committed ravages on the middle and 
west marches ; and the war on both sides was signalized 
rather by the ills inflicted on the enemy, than by any con- 
siderable advantage gained by either party. 

The war likewise between France and England was not 
distinguished this year by any memorable event. Francis 
had equipped a fleet of above two hundred sail, beside galleys; 
and having embarked some land forces on board, he sent them 
to make a descent in England.! They sailed to the Isle of 
Wight, where they lbund the English fleet lying at anchor in 
St. Helen's. It consisted not of above a hundred sail ; and 
the admiral thought it most advisable to remain in that road, 
in hopes of drawing the French into the narrow channels and 
the rocks, which were unknown to them. The two fleets 
cannonaded each other for two days ; and except the sinking 
of the Mary Rose, one of the largest ships of the English fleet, 
the damage on both sides was inconsiderable. 

Francis's chief intention in equipping so great a fleet, was 
to prevent the English from throwing succors into Boulogne, 
which he resolved to besiege ; and for that purpose he ordered 
a fort to be built, by which he intended to block up the 
harbor. After a considerable loss of time and money, the 
fort was found so ill constructed, that he was obliged to 
abandon it ; and though he had assembled on that frontier au 
army of near forty thousand men, he was not able to eiiect 
any considerable enterprise. Henry, in order to defend hia 
possessions in France, had levied fourteen thousand Germans; 



* Buchanan, lib. xi . Drummond. 
+ Beleair. Mem. Hu Bellai. 



A.. D. 1545.] HENRY VIII. 297 

who, having marched to Fleurines, in the bishopric of Liege, 
found that they could advance no farther. The emperoi 
would not allow them a passage through his dominions : they 
received intelligence of a superior army on the side of France 
ready to intercept them : want of occupation and of pay soon 
produced a mutiny among them ; and having seized the Eng- 
lish commissaries as a security for arrears, they retreated into 
their own country. There seems to have been some want 
of foresight in this expensive armament. 

The great expense of these two wars maintained by Henry, 
obliged him to summon a new parliament. The commons 
granted him a subsidy, payable in two years, of two shillings 
a pound on land.* The spirituality voted him six shillings 
a pound. But the parliament, apprehensive lest more de- 
mands should be made upon them, endeavored to save them- 
selves by a very extraordinary liberality of other people's 
property ; by one vote they bestowed on the king all the 
revenues of the universities, as well as of the chauntries, free 
chapels, t and hospitals. Henry was pleased with this con- 
cession, as it increased his power ; but he had no intention to 
rob learning of all her endowments ; and he soon took care 
to inform the universities that he meant not to touch their 
revenues. Thus these ancient and celebrated establishments 
owe their existence to the generosity of the king, not to the 
protection of this servile and prostitute parliament. 

The prostitute spirit of the parliament further appeared in 
the preamble of a statute ; J in which they recognize the king 
to have always been, by the word of God, supreme head 
of the church of England; and acknowledge that archbishops, 
bishops, and other ecclesiastical persons, have no manner of 
jurisdiction but by his royal mandate; to him alone, say they 
and such persons as he shall appoint, full power and authoritj 
is given from abot'e to hear and determine all manner of 

* Those who possessed goods or money above five pounds, and 
below ten, were to pay eightpence a pound ; those above ten pounds 
a shilling. 

t A chauntry was a little church, chapel, or particular altar in 
some cathedral church, etc., endowed with lands or other revenues 
for the maintenance of one or more priests daily to say mass cr per- 
ioral divine service, for the use of the founders, or such others as 
they appointed : free chapels were independent on any church, and 
endowed for much the same purpose as the former. Jacob's I.au 
Diet. 

i 37 Henry VIII. c. 17. 



258 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A. D. 1516. 

causes ecclesiastical, and to correct all manner of heresies, 
errors, vices, and sins whatsoever. No mention is here made 
of the concurrence of a convocation, or even of a parliament. 
His proclamations are in effect acknowledged to have not only 
the force of law, but the authority of revelation ; and by his 
royal power he might regulate the actions of men, control 
their words, and even direct their inward sentiments and 
opinions. 

The king made in person a speech to the parliament on 
proroguing them ; in which, after thanking them for their 
loving attachment to him, which, he said, equalled what was 
ever paid by their ancestors to any king of England, he com 
plained of their dissensions, disputes, and animosities in re 
ligion. He told them, that the several pulpits were become a 
kind of batteries against each other ; and that one preacher 
called another heretic and Anabaptist, which was retaliated 
by the opprobrious appellations of Papist and hypocrite : that 
he had permitted his people the use of the Scriptures, not in 
order to furnish them with materials for disputing and railing, 
but that he might enable them to inform their consciences 
and instruct their children and families : that it grieved his 
heart to find how that precious jewel was prostituted, by 
being introduced into the conversation of every alehouse and 
tavern, and employed as a pretence ibr decrying the spiritual 
and legal pastors : and that he was sorry to observe, that 
the word of God, while it was the object of so much anxious 
speculation, had very little influence on their practice ; and 
that, though an imaginary knowledge so much abounded, 
charity was daily going to decay.* The king gave good 
advice ; but his own example, by encouraging speculation and 
dispute, was ill fitted to promote that peaceable submission of 
opinion which he recommended. 

[1546.] Henry employed in military preparations the 
money granted by parliament ; and he sent over the earl of 
Hertford and Lord Lisle, the admiral, to Calais, with a body 
of nine thousand men, two thirds of which consisted of 
foreigners. Some skirmishes of small moment ensued with 
the French ; and no hopes of any considerable progress could 
be entertained by either party. Henry, whose animosity 
against Francis was not violent, had given sufficient vent to 
his humor by this short war ; and finding that, from his great 

* Hall, fol. 261. Herbert, p. 534. 



A.D.I 54b. J henry vm. 299 

increase in corpulence and decay in strength, he could not 
hope for much longer life, he was desirous of ending a quanel 
which might prove dangerous to his kingdom during a minority 
Francis likewise, on his part, was not averse to peace with 
England ; because, having lately lost his son, the duke of 
Orleans, he revived his ancient claim upon Milan, and fore- 
saw that hostilities must soon, on that account, break out 
between him and the emperor. Commissioners, therefore 
having met at Campe, a small place between Arches and 
Guisnes, the articles were soon agreed on. and the peace 
signed by them The chief conditions were that Henry 
should retain Boulogne duriug eight years, or till the former 
debt due by Francis should be paid. This debt was settled at 
two millions of livres, besides a claim of five hundred thou- 
band livres. which was afterwards to be adjusted. Francis 
took care to comprehend Scotland in the treaty. Thus all 
that Henry obtained by a war which cost him above one mil- 
lion three hundred and forty thousand pounds sterling,* was 
a bad and a chargeable security for a debt, which was not a 
third of the value. 

The king, now freed from all foreign wars, had leisure to 
give his attention to domestic affairs ; particularly to the estab- 
lishment of uniformity in opinion, on which he was so intent. 
Though he allowed an English translation of the Bible, he had 
hitherto been very careful to keep the mass in Latin ; but he 
was at last prevailed on to permit that the litany, a consider- 
able part of the service, should be celebrated in the vulgar 
tongue ; and by this innovation he excited anew the hopes of 
the reformers, who had been somewhat discouraged by the 
severe law of the six articles. One petition of the new litany 
was a prayer to save us " from the tyranny of the bishop of 
Rome, and from all his detestable enormities." Cranmei 
employed his credit to draw Henry into further innovations 
rind he took advantage of Gardiner's absence, who was sent 
on an embassy to the emperor : but Gardiner having written 
to the king, that, if he carried his opposition against the 
Catholic religion to greater extremities, Charles threatened to 
break off all commerce with him, the success of Cranmer's 
projects was for some time retarded. Cranmer lost this year 
f be most sincere and powerful friend that he possessed at 
tourt, Charles Brandon, duke of Suffolk ; the queen dowagei 



* Hefberl Stowe. 



300 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1546 

of France, consort to Suffolk, had died some years before. 
This nobleman is one instance that lenry was not altogethei 
incapable of a cordial and steady friendship ; and Suffolk 
seems to have been worthy of the favor which, from hia 
earliest youth, he had enjoyed with his master. The king 
was sitting in council when informed of Suffolk's death ; and 
he took the opportunity both to express his own sorrow foi 
the loss, and to celebrate the merits of the deceased. He 
declared, that during the whole course of their friendship, his 
brother-in-law had never made one attempt to injure an ad- 
versary, and had never whispered a word to the disadvantage 
of any person. " Is there any of you, my lords, who can 
say as much 1" When the king subjoined these words, he 
looked round in all their faces, and saw that confusion which 
the consciousness of secret guilt naturally threw upon them.* 
Cranmer himself, when bereaved of this support, was the 
more exposed to those cabals of the courtiers, which the 
opposition in party and religion, joined to the usual motives 
of interest, rendered so frequent among Henry's ministers 
and counsellors. The Catholics took hold of the king by his 
passion for orthodoxy ; and they represented to him, that, if 
his laudable zeal for enforcing the truth met with no bettei 
success, it was altogether owing to the primate, whose example 
and encouragement were, in reality, the secret supports of 
heresy. Henry, seeing the point at which they aimed, feigned 
a compliance, and desired the council to make inquiry into 
Cranmer's conduct ; promising that, if he were found guilty, 
he should be committed to prison, and brought to condign 
punishment. Every body now considered the primate as 
lost ; and his old friends, from interested views, a? well as the 
opposite party from animosity, began to show him marks of 
neglect and disregard. He was obliged to stand several 
hours among the lackeys at the door of the council chamber 
before he could be admitted ; and when he was at last called 
in, he was told that they had determined to send him to the 
Tower. Cranmer said, that he appealed to the king himself ; 
ind finding his appeal disregarded, he produced a ring, which 
Henry had given him as a pledge of favor and protection. 
The council were confounded ; and when they caxr.e before 
the king, he reproved them in the severest terms ; and told 
Vhem, that he was well acquainted with Cranmer's merit, as 



* Coke"s Inst. can. 99. 



A.D. 1546.] henry vin. 301 

vveil as with then malignity and envy ; but he was determined 
to crush all their cabals, and to teach them by the severest 
discipline, since gentle methods were ineffectual, a more duti- 
ful concurrence in promoting his service. Norfolk, who was 
Cranmer's capital enemy, apologized for their conduct, and 
said, that their only intention was to set the primate's inno- 
cence in a full light, by bringing him to an open trial ; and 
Henry obliged them all to embrace him, as a sign of their cor- 
dial reconciliation. The mild temper of Cranmer rendered 
this agreement more sincere on his part than is usual in such 
forced compliances.* 

But though Henry's favor for Cranmer rendered fruitless all 
accusations against him, his pride and peevishness, irritated by 
his declining state of health, impelled him to punish with fresh 
severity all others who presumed to entertain a different opin- 
ion from himself, particularly in the capital point of the real 
presence. Anne Ascue, a young woman of merit as well as 
beauty,t who had great connections with the chief ladies at 
court, and with the queen herself, was accused of dogmatiz- 
ing on that delicate article ; and Henry, instead of showing 
indulgence to the weakness of her sex and age, was but the 
more provoked, that a woman should dare to oppose his theo- 
logical sentiments. She was prevailed on by Bonner's men- 
aces to make a seeming recantation ; but she qualified it with 
some reserves, which did not satisfy that zealous prelate. She 
was thrown into prison, and she there employed herself in 
composing prayers and discourses, by which she fortified hei 
resolution to endure the utmost extremity rather than relin- 
quish her religious principles. She even wrote to the king, 
and told him, that as to the Lord's Supper, she believed as 
much as Christ himself had said of it, and as much of his 
divine doctrine as the Catholic church had required : but while 
she could not be brought to acknowledge an assent to the 
lung's explications, this declaration availed her nothing, and 
was rather regarded as a fresh insult. The chancellor, Wrio- 
thesely, wdio had succeeded Audley, and who was much at- 
tached to the Catholic party, was sent to examine her with 
regard to her patrons at court, and the great ladies who were 
in correspondence with her : but she maintained a laudable 
fide'ity to her friends, and would confess nothing. She was 

* Burnet, vol. i. p. 342, 344 Antiq. Brit, in vita Cranru 
t Bale. Speed, p. 780 



&G2 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1546 

^tut to the torture in the most barbarous manner, and contin- 
ued still resolute in preserving secrecy. Some authors* add 
an extraordinary circumstance ; that the chancellor, who stood 
by, ordered the lieutenant of the Tower to, stretch the rack 
still farther ; but that officer refused compliance ; the chancel- 
lor menaced him, but met with a new refusal ; upon which 
that magistrate, who was otherwise a person of merit, but in- 
toxicated with religious zeal, put his own hand to the rack, 
md drew it so violently that he almost tore her body asunder. 
Her constancy still surpassed the barbarity of her persecutors, 
and they found all their efforts to be baffled. She was then 
condemned to be burned alive ; and being so dislocated by the 
rack that she could not stand, she was carried to the stake 
in a chair. Together with her were conducted Nicholas Be- 
lenian, a priest, John Lassels. of the king's household, and 
John Adams, a tailor, who had been condemned for the same 
crime to the same punishment. They were all tied to the 
stake ; and in that dreadful situation the chancellor sent to 
inform them, that their pardon was ready drawn and signed, 
and should instantly be given them if they would merit it by 
a recantation. They only regarded this offer as a new orna- 
ment to their crown of martyrdom ; and they saw with tran- 
quillity the executioner kindle the flames which consumed 
them. Wriothesley did not consider, that this public and 
noted situation interested their honor the more to maintain a 
eteady perseverance. 

Though the secrecy and fidelity of Anne Ascue saved the 
queen from this peril, that princess soon after fell into a new 
danger, from which she narrowly escaped. An ulcer had 
broken out in the king's leg, which, added to his extreme 
corpulency and his bad habit of body, began both to threaten 
his life and to render him even more than usually peevish and 
passionate. The queen attended him with the most tender 
and dutiful care, and endeavored, by every soothing art anu 
compliance, to allay those gusts of humor to which he was 
become so subject. His favorite topic of conversation Avaa 
theology; and Catharine, whose good sense enabled her to 
discourse on any subject, was frequently engaged in the argu- 

* Fox, vol. ii. p. 578. Speed, p. 780. Baker, p. 299. But Burnet 
questions the truth of this circumstance; Fox, however, transcribe* 
her own papers, where she relates i f . I must add. in justice to the 
king, that he disapproved of Wricth* slo\-\s conduct, and commended 
•he 'lieutenant. 



A. D J516.J henry vm. 303 

ment , and being secretly inclined to the principles of th« 
reformers, she unwarily betrayed too much of her mind on 
these occasions. Henry, highly provoked that she should pre- 
sume to differ from him, complained of her obstinacy to Gar- 
diner, who gladly laid hold of the opportunity to inflame the 
quarrel. He praised the king's anxious concern for preserv- 
ing the orthodoxy of his subjects ; and represented, that the 
more elevated the person was who was chastised, and the 
more near to his person, the greater terror would the example 
strike into every one, and the more glorious would the sacri- 
fice appear to posterity. The chancellor, being consulted, 
was engaged by religious zeal to second these topics ; and 
Henry, hurried on by his own impetuous temper, and encour- 
aged by his counsellors, went so far as to order articles of 
impeachment, to be drawn up against his consort. Wriothesely 
executed his commands ; and soon after brought the paper to 
him to be signed ; for, as it was high treason to throw slander 
upon the queen, he might otherwise have been questioned for 
his temerity. By some means this important paper fell into the 
hands of one of the queen's friends, who immediately carried 
the intelligence to her. She was sensible of the extreme danger 
to which she was exposed ; but did not despair of being able, by 
her prudence and address, still to elude the efforts of her ene- 
mies. She paid her usual visit to the king, and found him in 
a more serene disposition than she had reason to expect. Ho 
entered on the subject which was so familiar to him ; and he 
seemed to challenge her to an argument in divinity. She gently 
declined the conversation, and remarked, that such profound 
speculations were ill suited to the natural imbecility of her 
sex. Women, she said, by their first creation, were made 
subject to men : the male was created after the image of 
God, the female after the image of the male : it belonged to 
the husband to choose principles for his wife ; the wife's duty 
was. in all cases, to adopt implicitly the sentiments of her 
husband : and as to herself, it was doubly her duty, being 
blest with a husband who was qualified by his judgment and 
learning not only to choose principles for his own family, but 
for the most wise and knowing of ever}* nation. " Xot so ! by 
St. Mary," replied the king; "you are now become a doctor, 
Kate, and better fitted to give than receive instruction." 
She meekly replied, that she was sensible how little she was 
entitled to these praises ; that though she usually declined not 
any boriversalior however sublime, when proposed by his 



304 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [AD. 1345 

majesty, she well knew that her conceptions could serve to nc 
other purpose than to give him a little momentary amusement : 
that she found the conversation apt to languish when not 
revived by some opposition, and she had ventured sometimes 
to feign a contrariety of sentiments, in order to give him 
the pleasure of refuting her ; and that she also purposed, 
by this innocent artifice, to engage him into topics, whence 
§he had observed, by frequent experience, that she reaped 
rofit and instruction. "And is it so, sweetheart?" replied 
the king, " then are we perfect friends again." He em- 
braced her with great affection, and sent her away with 
assurances of his protection and kindness. Her enemies, who 
knew nothing of this sudden change, prepared next day to 
convey her to the Tower, pursuant to the king's warrant. 
Henry and Catharine were conversing amicably in the gar- 
den, when the chancellor appeared with forty of the pursui- 
vants. The king spoke to him at some distance from her ; 
and seemed to expostulate with him in the severest manner : 
she even overheard the appellations of " knave," " fool," and 
•'beast," which he liberally bestowed upon that magistrate; 
and then ordered him to depart his presence. She afterwards 
interposed to mitigate his anger : he said to her, " Poor soul ! 
you know not how ill entitled this man is to your good offices.'" 
Thenceforth the queen, having narrowly escaped so great a 
danger, was careful not to offend Henry's humor by any con- 
tradiction ; and Gardiuer, whose malice had endeavored to 
widen the breach, could never afterwards regain his favor and 
good opinion.* 

But Henry's tyrannical disposition, soured by ill health, 
burst out soon after to the destruction of a man who possessed 
a much superior rank to that of Gardiner. The duke of Nor- 
folk and his father, during this whole reign, and even a part 
of the foregoing, had been regarded as the greatest subjects in 
the kingdom, and had rendered considerable service to the 
f.rowu. The duke himself had in his youth acquired reputation 
by naval enterprises : he had much contributed to the victory 
gained over the Scots at Flodden : he had suppressed a dan- 
gerous rebellion in the north ; and he had always done hia 
part with honor in all the expeditions against France. For- 
tune seemed to conspire with his own industry in raising him 



* Burnet, vol. i. p. 344. Herbert, p. 560. Speed, p. 780. Fax'* 
Acts and Monuments, vol. ii. p. 5S. 



A.D. ]54u.j henry vin. 30f» 

to the greatest elevation. From the favors heaped on him by 
the crown he had acquired an immense estate : the king had 
successively been married to two of his nieces ; and the king's 
natural sou, the duke of Richmond, had married his daughter : 
besides his descent from the ancient family of the Mou brays. 
by which he was allied to the throne, he had espoused a 
daughter of the duke of Buckingham, who was descended by 
B. female from Edward III. : and as he was believed still to 
adhere secretly to the ancient religion, he was regarded, both 
abroad and at home, as the head of the Catholic party. But 
all these circumstances, in proportion as they exalted the duke, 
provoked the jealousy of Henry ; and he foresaw danger, 
during his son's minority, both to the public tranquillity, 
and to the new ecclesiastical system, from the attempts 
of so potent a subject. But nothing tended more to expose 
Norfolk to the king's displeasure, than the prejudices which 
Henry had entertained against the earl of Surrey, son of that 
nobleman. 

Surrey was a young man of the most promising hopes, and 
had distinguished himself by every accomplishment which 
became a scholar, a courtier, and a soldier. He excelled in 
ail the military exercises which were then in request : he 
encouraged the fine arts by his patronage and example : he 
had made some successful attempts in poetry ; and being 
smitten with the romantic gallantry of the age, he celebrated 
the praises of his mistress by his pen and his lance, in every 
masque and tournament. His spirit and ambition were equal 
to his talents and his quality ; and he did not always regulate 
his conduct by the caution and reserve which his situation 
required. He had been left governor of Boulogne when that 
town was taken by Henry ; but though his personal bravery 
was unquestioned, he had been unfortunate in some rencoun- 
ters with the French. The king, somewhat displeased with his 
conduct, had sent over Hertford to command in his place ; 
and Surrey was so imprudent as to drop some menacing ex- 
pressions against the ministers, on account of this affront which 
was put upon him. And as he had refused to marry Hert- 
ford's daughter, and even waived every other proposal of 
marriage, Henry imagined that he had entertained views of 
espousing the lady Mary ; and he was instantly determined ta 
repress, by the most, severe expedients, so dangerous an am- 
bition. 

Actuated by all these motives, and perhaps influenced bj 



d06 HISTORY OF ENGLAND [A. D. 1317 

that old disgust with which the ill conduct cf Catharine How- 
ard had inspired him against her whole family, he gave 
private orders to arrest Norfolk and Surrey ; and they were 
on the same day confined in the Tower. Surrey being a 
commoner, his trial was the more expeditious ; and as to 
proofs, neither parliaments nor juries seem ever to have given 
the least attention to them in. any cause of the crown during 
this whole reign. [1547.] He was accused of entertaining 
hi's family some Italians who were suspected to be spies ; a ser- 
vant of his had paid a visit to Cardinal Pole in Italy, whence 
he was suspected of holding a correspondence with that 
obnoxious prelate ; he had quartered the arms of Edward the 
Confessor on his scutcheon, which made him be suspected of 
aspiring to the crown, though both he and his ancestors had 
openly, during the course of many years, maintained that 
practice, and the heralds had even j ustified it by their authority 
These were the crimes for which a jury, notwithstanding his 
eloquent and spirited defence, condemned the earl of Surrey 
for high treason ; and their sentence was soon after executed 
upon him. 

The innocence of the duke of Norfolk was still, if possible, 
more apparent than that of his son ; and his services to the 
crown had been greater. His duchess, with whom he lived 
on bad terms, had been so base as to carry intelligence to his 
enemies of all she knew against him : Elizabeth Holland, a 
mistress of his, had been equally subservient to the designs 
of the court ; yet with all these advantages, his accusers 
discovered no greater crime than his once saying, that the 
king was sickly, and could not hold out long ; and the king- 
dom was likely to fail into disorders, through the diversity 
of religious opinions. He wrote a pathetic letter to the king, 
pleading his past services and protesting his innocence : soon 
after, he embraced a more proper expedient for appeasing 
Henry, by making a submission and confession, such as hi* 
enemies required ; but nothing could mollify the unrelenting 
temper of the king. He assembled a parliament, as the 
surest and most expeditious instrument of his tyranny ; and 
,he house of peers, without examining the prisoner, without 
trial or evidence, passed a bill of attainder against him, and 
sent it down to the commons. Cranmer, though engaged for 
many years iu an opposite party to Norfolk, and though he had 
received many and great injuries from him, would have no 
hand in so unjust a prosecution ; and h r ; retired to his seat al 



A.D. 1547.] henr\ vm. 307 

Croydon.* The king was now approaching fast towards his 
end ; and fearing lest Norfolk should escape him, he sent a 
message to tiie commons, by which he desired them to hasten 
the bill, on pretence that Norfolk enjoyed the dignity of carl 
marshal, and it was necessary to appoint another, who might 
officiate at the ensuing ceremony of installing his son prince 
of Wales. The obsequious commons obeyed his directions, 
though founded on so frivolous a pretence ; and the king, 
having affixed the royal assent to the bill by commissioners, 
issued orders for the execution of Norfolk on the morning ot 
the twenty-ninth of January. But news being carried to the 
Tower that the king himself had expired that night, the lien- 
tenant deferred obeying the warrant ; and it was not thought 
advisable by the council to begin a new reign by the death 
of the greatest nobleman in the kingdom, who had been con- 
demned by a sentence so unjust and tyrannical. 

The king's health had long been in a declining state ; but 
for several days all those near him plainly saw his end ap- 
proaching. He was become so froward, that no one durst 
inform him of his condition ; and as some persons during this 
reign had suffered as traitors for fortelling the king's death, t 
every one was afraid lest, in the transports of his fury, he 
might on this pretence punish capitally the author of such 
friendly intelligence. At last, Sir Anthony Denny ventured 
to disclose to him the fatal secret, and exhorted him to prepare 
lor the late which was awaiting him. He expressed his resig- 
nation, and desired that Cranmer might be sent for; but before 
the prelate arrived, he was speechless, though he still seemed 
lo retain his senses. Cranmer desired him to give some sign 
of his dying in the faith of Christ. He squeezed the prelate's 
hand, and immediately expired, after a reign of thirty-seven 
years and nine months ; and in the fifty-sixth year of his age. 

The king had made his will near a month before his demise ; 
in which he confirmed the destination of parliament, by leaving 
the crown first to Prince Edward, then to the lady Mary, next 
to the lady Elizabeth : the two princesses he obliged, under 
the penalty of forfeiting their title to the crown, not to marr* 
without consent of the council which he appointed for the 
government of his minor son. After his own children, he 
settled the succession on Frances Brandon, marchioness of 



* Burnet, vol. i. p. 3 18. Fox. 

' Lanquet/s Epitome of Chronic'.es in the year 1541. 



308 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1547 

Dorset, eldest daughter of his sister, the French queen ; then 
on Eleanor, countess of Cumberland, the second daughter. 
In passing over the posterity of the queen of Scots, his eldest 
sister, he made use of the power obtained from parliament ; 
but as he subjoined that, after the failure of the French queen'd 
posterity, the crown should descend to the next lawful heir, it 
fterwards became a question, whether these words could be 
applied to the Scottish line. It was thought that these princes 
were not the next heirs after the house of Suffolk, but before 
that house ; and that Henry, by expressing himself in this 
manner, meant entirely to exclude them. The late injuries 
which he had received from the Scots, had irritated him 
extremely against that nation ; and he maintained to the last 
that character of violence and caprice by which his life had 
been so much distinguished. Another circumstance of his 
will may suggest the same reflection with regard to the strange 
contrarieties of his temper and conduct : he left money for 
masses to be said for delivering his soul from purgatory ; and 
though he destroyed all those institutions established by his 
ancestors and others for the benefit of their souls, and had 
even left the doctrine of purgatory doubtful in all the articles 
of faith which he promulgated during his later years, he was 
yet determined, when the hour of death was approaching, to 
take care at least of his own future repose, and to adhere to 
the safer side of the question.* 

It is difficult to give a just summary of this prince's qual- 
ities : he was so different from himself in different parts of his 
reign, that, as is well remarked by Lord Herbert, his history 
is his best character and description. The absolute, uncon- 
trolled authority which he maintained at home, and the regard 
which he acquired among foreign nations, are circumstances 
which entitle him, in some degree, to the appellation of a great 
prince; while his tyranny and barbarity exclude him from the 
character of a good one. He possessed, indeed, great vigoi 
of mind, which qualified him for exercising dominion over 
men; courage, intrepidity, vigilance, inflexibility; and though 
these qualities lay not always under the guidance of a regular 
and solid judgment, they were accompanied with good parts 
and an extensive capacity ; and every one dreaded a contest 
with a man who was known never to yield or to forgive, and 

* See his will in Fuller, Heylin. and Rymer p. 110. There is nc 
reasonable ground to suspect its authenticity. 



A.. I) 1547.] henry vin. 306 

who, in every controversy, was determined either to ruin him- 
self or his antagonist. A catalogue of his vices would com- 
prehend many of the worst qualities incident to human nature ; 
violence, cruelty, profusion, rapacity, injustice, obstinacy, arro- 
gance, bigotry, presumption, caprice : but neither was he sub- 
ject to all these vices in the most extreme degree, nor was he, 
at intervals, altogether destitute of virtues : he was sincere, 
open> gallant, liberal, and capable at least of a temporary friend- 
ship and attachment. In this respect he was unfortunate, that 
the incidents of his reign served to display his faults in their 
full light : the treatment which he met with from the court of 
Rome provoked him to violence ; the danger of a revolt from 
his superstitious subjects seemed to require the most extreme 
severity. But it must at the same time be acknowledged, that 
his situation tended to throw an additional lustre on what was 
great and magnanimous in his character; the emulation be- 
tween the emperor and the French king rendered his alliance, 
notwithstanding his impolitic conduct, of great importance in 
Europe : the extensive powers of his prerogative, and the 
submissive, not to say slavish disposition of his parliaments, 
made it the more easy for him to assume and maintain that 
entire dominion by which his reign is so much distinguished 
in the English history. 

It may seem a little extraordinary, that, notwithstanding his 
cruelty, his extortion, his violence, his arbitrary administra- 
tion, this prince not only acquired the regard of his subjects, 
but never was the object of their hatred : he seems even, in 
some degree, to have possessed to the last their love and affec- 
tion.^ His exterior qualities were advantageous, and fit to 
captivate the multitude : his magnificence and personal bra- 
very rendered him illustrious in vulgar eyes ; and it may be 
said with truth, that the English in that age were so thoroughly 
subdued, that, like Eastern slaves, they were inclined to admire 
those acts of violence and tyranny which were exercised over 
themselves, and at their own expense. 

With regard to foreign states, Henry appears long to have 
supported an intercourse of friendship with Francis, more 
sincere and disinterested than usually takes place between 
neighboring princes. Their common jealousy of the emperor 
Charles, and some resemblance in their characters (though 
the comparison sets the French monarch in a very supeiior 



Strype, vol i. pt 388! 



310 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1547 

and advantageous light,) served as the cement of their mutual 
amity. Francis is said to have been affected with the king's 
death, and to have expressed much regret for the loss. Hia 
own health began to decline : he foretold that he should not 
long survive his friend ; * and he died in about two months 
after him. 

There were ten parliaments summoned by Henry VIII.. and 
twenty-three sessions held. The whole time in which these 
parliaments sat during this long reign, exceeded not three 
years and a half. It amounted not to a twelvemonth during 
the first twenty years. The innovations in religion obliged 
the king afterwards to call these assemblies more frequently : 
but though these Avere the most important transactions thai 
ever fell under the cognizance of parliament, their devoted 
submission to Henry's will, added to their earnest desire of 
soon returning to their country seats, produced a quick de 
spatch of the bills, and made the sessions of short duration. 
All the king's caprices were indeed blindly complied with, and 
no regard was paid to the safety or liberty of the subject. 
Besides the violent prosecution of whatever he was pleased to 
term heresy, the laws of treason were multiplied beyond all 
former precedent. Even words to the disparagement of the 
king, queen, or royal issue, were subjected to that penalty ; 
and so little care was taken in framing these rigorous statutes, 
that they contain obvious contradictions ; insomuch that had 
they been strictly executed, every man, without exception 
must have fallen under the penalty of treason. By one stat 
ute,f for instance, it was declared treason to assert the validity 
of the king's marriage, either with Catharine of Arragon 01 
Anne Boleyn ; by another, $ it was treason to say any thing to 
the disparagement or slander of the princesses Mary and Eliz- 
abeth ; and to call them spurious would, no doubt, have been 
construed to their slander. Nor would even a profound 
silence with regard to these delicate points be able to save a 
person from such penalties. For by the former statute, who- 
ever refused to answer upon oath to any point contained in 
that act, was subjected to the pains of treason. The king, 
therefore, needed only propose to any one a question with 
regard to the legality of either of his first marriages : if tha 
person were silent, he was a traitor by law : if he answered 

* Le Thou. f 28 Henry VIII. o. 7. 

t 34. 35 Henry v^III. c 1. 



A. 1> l6'47.J HENRY /III. 31 i 

either in the negative or in the affirmative, he was no less a 
traitor. So monstrous were the inconsistencies which arose 
from the furious passions of the king and the slavish submis- 
sion of his parliaments. It is hard to say whether these con- 
tradictions were owing to Henry's precipitancy, or to a formed 
design of tyranny. 

It may not be improper to recapitulate whatever is memora 
ble in the statutes of this reign, whether with regard to govern- 
ment or commerce : nothing can better show the genius of the 
age than such a review of the laws. 

The abolition of the ancient religion much contributed to 
the regular execution of justice. While the Catholic supersti- 
tion subsisted, there was no possibility of punishing any crime 
in the clergy : the church would not permit the magistrate to 
try the offences of her members, and she could not herself in- 
flict any civil penalties upon them. But Henry restrained these 
pernicious immunities : the privilege of clergy was abolished 
for the crimes of petty treason, murder, and felony, to all under 
the degree of a subdeacon.* But the former superstition not 
only protected crimes in the clergy ; it exempted also the 
laity from punishment, by affording them shelter in the 
churches and sanctuaries. The parliament abridged these 
privileges. It was first declared, that no sanctuaries were 
allowed in cases of high treason ;t next in those of murd.ei, 
felony, rapes, burglary, and petty treason : J and it limited 
them iu other particulars. § The further progress of the ref 
ormation removed all distinction between the clergy and other 
subjects, and also abolished entirely the privileges of sanctua' 
ries. These consequences were implied in the neglect of the 
canon law. 

The only expedient employed to support the military spirit 
during this age, was the reviving and extending of some old 
laws enacted for the encouragement of archery, on which 
me defence of the kingdom was supposed much to depend. 
Every man was ordered to have a bow : || butts were ordered to 
be erected in every parish ; ^[ and every bowyer was ordered, for 
each bow of yew which he made, to make two of elm or witch, 
for the service of the common people.** The use of cross- 
bows and handguns was also prohibited. ft What rendered the 

* 23 Henry VIII. c. 1. t 2G Henry VIII. c. 13. 

t 32 Henrv VIII. c. 12. $ 22 Henry VIII. c. 14. 

II 3 Henry VIII. e. 3. 13 Henry VIII. c. 3. 

** 3 Henrv VIII. c. 3. It 3 Homy VIII. c. 13 



312 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [ A. D. 10* . 

English bowmen more formidable was, that they carries] hal- 
berts with them, by which they were enabled, upon occasion, 
to engage in close fight with the enemy.* Frequent musters 
or arrays were also made of the people, even during time of 
peace ; and all men of substance were obliged to have a com- 
plete suit of armor or harness, as it was called .t The martial 
spirit of the English, during that age, rendered this precaution, 
it was thought, sufficient for the defence of the nation ; and 
as the king had then an absolute power of commanding the 
service of all his subjects, he could instantly, in case of danger, 
appoint new officers, and levy regiments, and collect an army 
as numerous as he pleased. When no faction or division pre- 
vailed among the people, there Avas no foreign power that ever 
thought of invading England. The city of London alone 
^ould muster fifteen thousand men. t Discipline, however, 
was an advantage wanting to those troops ; though the garrison 
of Calais was a nursery of officers, and Tournay first, § Bou- 
logne afterwards, served to increase the number. Every one 
who served abroad was allowed to alienate his lands without 
paying any fees. || A general permission was granted to dis- 
pose of land by will. IT The parliament was so little jealous 
of its privileges, (which indeed were, at that time, scarcely 
worth preserving,) that there is an instance of one Strode, 
who, because he had introduced into the lower house some bill 
regarding tin, was severely treated by the stannery courts in 
Cornwall : heavy fines were imposed on him ; and upon his 
refusal to pay, he was thrown into a dungeon, loaded with 
irons, and used in such a manner as brought his life in danger : 
yet all the notice which the parliament took of this enormity, 
even in such a paltry court, was to enact, that no man could 
afterwards be questioned for his conduct in parliament.** 
This prohibition, however, must be supposed to extend only to 
the inferior courts : for as to the king, and privy council, and 
star chamber, they were scarcely bound by any law. 

There is a bill of tonnage and poundage, which shows what 
uncertain ideas the parliament had formed both of their own 
privileges and of Ihe rights of the sovereign.tt This duty had 

* Herbert. 

f Hall, fol. 234. Stowe, p. 515. Holingshed, p. D47. 

t Hall, l'ol. 235. Holingshed, p. 547. Stowe, p. 577. 

i Hall, fol. 68. II 14 and 15 Henry VIII. o. IS. 

IT 34 and 35 Henry VIII. c, 5 ** 4 Henry VIII. o. 8. 

U 6 Henry VIII. c 14. - 



A.D. 1547.] henry vni. 313 

been voted to every king 1 since Henry IV., during the terra of 
his own life only : yet Henry VIII. had been allowed to levy 
it six ye.irs, without any law ; and though there had been four 
parliaments assembled during that time, no attention had been 
given either to grant it to him regularly, or restrain him from 
levying it. At last the parliament resolved to give him that 
supply ; but even in this concession, they plainly show them- 
selves at a loss to determine whether they grant it, or whether 
he has a right of himself to levy it. They say, that the impo- 
sition was made to endure during the natural life of the late 
king, and no longer : they yet blame the merchants who had 
not paid it to the present king : they observe, that the law for 
tonnage and poundage was expired ; yet make no scruple to 
call that imposition the king's due : they affirm, that he had 
sustained great and manifold losses by those who had defrauded 
him of it ; and to provide a remedy, they vote him that supply 
during his lifetime, and no longer. It is remarkable that, not- 
withstanding this last clause, all his successors for more than a 
century persevered in the like irregular practice : if a practice 
may deserve that epithet, in which the whole nation acquiesced, 
and which gave no offence. But when Charles I. attempted 
to continue in the same course which had now received the 
sanction of many generations, so much were the opinions of 
men altered, that a furious tempest was excited by it ; and 
historians, partial or ignorant, still represent this measure as 
a most violent and unprecedented enormity in that unhappy 
prince. 

The king was allowed to make laws for Wales without con- 
Bent of parliament.* It was forgotten that, with regard both to 
Wales and England, the limitation was abolished by the statute 
which gave to the royal proclamations the force of laws. 

The foreign commerce of England during this age was 
mostly confined to the Netherlands. The inhabitants of the 
Low Countries bought the English commodities, and distributed 
them into other parts of Europe. Hence the mutual depend- 
ence of those countries on each other ; and the great loss sus- 
tained by both in case of a rupture. During all the variations 
of politics, the sovereigns endeavored to avoid coming to this 
extremity ; and though the king usually bore a greater friend- 
ship to Francis, the nation always leaned towards the emperor 

in 1528, hostilities commenced between England and the 

* ft Hanrv VIII. 
vat,, -u. — G 



Sj4 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A. D. 1547 

Low Countries ; and the inconvenience was soon felt on both 
sides. While the Flemings were not allowed to purchase 
cloth in England, the English merchants could not buy it 
from the clothiers, and the clothiers were obliged to dism.sa 
their workmen, who began to be tumultuous for want of bread. 
The cardinal, to appease them, sent for the merchants, and 
ordered them to buy cloth as usual : they told him that they 
could not dispose of it as usual ; and, notwithstanding his 
menaces, he could get no other answer from them.* An 
agreement was at last made to continue the commerce between 
the states, even during war. 

It was not till the end of this reign that any salads, carrots, 
turnips, or other edible roots were produced in England. The 
little of these vegetables that was used, was formerly imported 
from Holland and Flanders.t Queen Catharine, when she 
wanted a salad, was obliged to despatch a messenger thither 
on purpose. The use of hops, and the planting of them, was 
introduced from Flanders about the beginning of this reign, 01 
end of the preceding. 

Foreign artificers, in general, much surpassed the English 
in dexterity, industry, and frugality : hence the violent ani- 
mosity which the latter on many occasions expressed against 
any of the former who were settled in England. They had 
the assurance to complain, that all their customers went to 
foreign tradesmen; and in the year 1517, being moved by the 
seditious sermons of one Dr. Bele, and the intrigues of Lin- 
coln, a broker, they raised an insurrection. The apprentices, 
and others of the poorer sort, in London, began by breaking 
open the prisons, where some persons were confined for insult- 
ing foreigners. They next proceeded to the house of Meutas, 
a Frenchman, much hated by them ; where they committed 
great disorders; killed some of his servants; and plundered 
his goods. The mayor could not appease them ; nor Sit 
Thomas More, late under sheriff, though much respected in 
the city. They also threatened Cardinal Wolsey with some 
insult ; and he thought it necessary to fortify his house, and 
put himself on his guard. Tired at last with these disorders, 
they dispersed themselves ; and the earls of Shrewsbury and 
Surrey seized some of them. A proclamation was issued, that 
women should not meet together to babble and talk, and that 
all men should keep their wives in their houses. Next day 

* Hall, fol. 174 t Anderson, vol. i. p. 338. 



A.D. 154* j henry Tin. 315 

the duke of Norfolk came into the cit) , at the head of thir 
teen hundred armed men, and made inquiry into the tumult 
Bele and Lincoln, and several others, were sent to theTower> 
and condemned for treason. Lincoln and thirteen more 
were executed. The other criminals, to the number of foui 
hundred, were brought before the king with ropes about theii 
necks, fell upon their knees, and cried for mercy. Henry 
knew at that time how to pardon ; he dismissed them without 
further punishment.* 

So great was the number of foreign artisans in the city, 
that at least fifteen thousand Flemings alone were at one 
time obliged to leave it, by an order of council, when Henry 
became jealous of their favor for Queen Catharine. f Henry 
himself confesses, in an edict of the star chamber, printed 
among the statutes, that the foreigners starved the natives, and 
obliged them from idleness to have recourse to theft, murder, 
and other enormities, f He also asserts, that the vast multi- 
tude of foreigners raised the price of grain and breads And 
to prevent an increase of the evil, all foreign artificers were 
prohibited from having above two foreigners in their house, 
either journeymen or apprentices. A like jealousy arose 
against the foreign merchants ; and to appease it, a law was 
enacted obliging all denizens to pay the duties imposed upon 
aliens. II The parliament had done better to have encouraged 
foreign merchants and artisans to come over in greater num- 
bers to England ; which might have excited the emulation of 
the natives, and have improved their skill. The prisoners in 
the kingdom for debts and crimes are asserted, in an act of 
parliament, to be sixty thousand persons and above ; If which 
is scarcely credible. Harrison asserts, that seventy-two thou- 
sand criminals were executed during this reign for theft and 
robbery, which would amount nearly to two thousand a year. 
He adds, that, in the latter end of Elizabeth's reign, there 
were not punished capitally four hundred in a year ; it ap- 
appears that, in all England, there are not at present fifty ex- 
ecuted for those crimes. If these facts be just, there has been 
a great improvement in morals since the reign of Henry VIII. 
And this improvement has been chiefly owing to the increase 
cf industry and of the arts, which have given maintenance, 

* Stowe, p. 505. Holingshed. p. 840. 

t Le Grand, vol. iii. p. 232. t 21 Henry VIII. 

§ 21 Henry VIII. U 22 Henry VIII. c. 8 

T 3 Henry VIII. c. 15. 



316 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1547 

and, what is almost of equal importance, occupation to the 
lower classes. 

There is a remarkable clause in a statute passed near the 
beginning of this reign,* by which we might be induced to 
believe that England was extremely decayed from the flour- 
ishing condition which it had attained in preceding times. It 
had been enacted in the reign of Edward II., that no mag- 
istrate in town or borough, who by his office ought to keep 
assize, should, during the continuance of his magistracy, sell, 
either in wholesale or retail, any wine or victuals. This law 
seemed equitable, in order to prevent fraud or private views 
in fixing the assize : yet the law is repealed in this reign. 
The reason assigned is. that " since the making of that stat- 
ute and ordinance, many and the most part of all the cities, 
boroughs, and towns corporate, within the realm of England, 
are fallen in ruin and decay, and are not inhabited by mer- 
chants, and men of such substance as at the time of making 
that statute : for at this day the dwellers and inhabitants of" 
the same cities and boroughs are commonly bakers, vintners 
fishmongers, and other victuallers, and there remain few oth- 
ers to bear the offices." Men have such a propensity to exalt 
past times above the present, that it seems dangerous to credit 
this reasoning of the parliament without further evidence to 
support it. So different are the views in which the same ob- 
ject appears, that some may be inclined to draw an opposite 
inference from this fact. A more regular police was estab- 
lished in the reign of Henry VIII. than in any former period, 
and a stricter administration of justice ; an advantage which 
induced the men of landed property to leave the provincial 
towns, and to retire into the country. Cardinal Wolsey, in a 
speech to parliament, represented it as a proof of the increase 
of riches, that the customs had increased beyond what they 
were formerly.! 

But if there were really a decay of commerce, and indus- 
try, and populousness in England, the statutes of this reign, 
except by abolishing monasteries and retrenching holydays — 
circumstances of considerable moment — were not in other re- 
spects well calculated to remedy the evil. The fixing of the 
wages of artificers was attempted : t luxury in apparel was 
jirohibited by repeated statutes ; § and probably without effect 

* Henry VIII. c 8. t Hall, fol. 110. * 

I (i Henry VIII. c. 3. 

$ 1 Henry VIII. c. 14. C Henry VIII. c. 1. 1 Henry VIII. c. 7 



A.D. 1547.] henr-s vm. 317 

The chancellor and other ministers were empowered to fix the 
price of poultry, cheese, and butter.* A statute was even passed 
to fix the price of beef, pork, mutton, and veal.t Beef and 
pork were ordered to be sold at a halfpenny a pound ; mutton 
and veal at a halfpenny half a farthing, money of that age. 
The preamble of the statute says, that these four species of 
butcher's meat were the food of the poorer sort. This act 
was afterwards repealed, t 

The practice of depopulating the country by abandoning til- 
lage, and throwing the lands into pasturage, still continued ; § 
as appears by the new laws which were from time to time 
enacted against that practice. The king was entitled to half 
the rents of thf land, where any farm houses were allowed to 
fall to decay. j| The unskilful husbandry was probably the 
cause why the proprietors found no profit in tillage. The 
number of sheep allowed to be kept in one flock, was re- 
strained to two thousand.^! Sometimes, says the statute, one 
proprietor or farmer would keep a flock of twenty-four thousand 
It is remarkable, that the parliament ascribes the increasing 
price of mutton to this increase of sheep : because, say they, 
the commodity being gotten into few hands, the price of it is 
raised at pleasure.** It is more probable, that the effect pro- 
seeded from the daily increase of money ; for it seems almost 
impossible that such a commodity could be engrossed. 

Ju the year 1544, it appears that an acre of good land in 
Cambridgeshire was let at a shilling, or about fifteen pence of 
our present money. It This is ten times cheaper than the usual 
rent at present. But commodities were not above four times 
cheaper ; a presumption of the bad husbandry in that age. 

Some laws were made with, regard to beggars and vag- 
grants ; tt °ne of the circumstances in government, which 
humanity would most powerfully recommend to a benevolent 
legislator ; which seems, at first sight, the most easily adjusted , 
and which is yet the most difficult to settle in such a mannei 
as to attain the end without destroying industry. The con 
vents formerly were a support to the poor ; but at the sam« 
time tended to encourage idleness and beggary. 

* 25 Henry VIII. c. 2. t 24 Henry VIII. c. S- 

I 33 Henry VIII. c. 11. § Strype, vol. i. p. 592. 

II 6 Henry VIII. c. 5. 7 Henry VIII. c. 1. 

1j 25 Henry VIII. c. 13. ** 25 Henry VIII. c. 13 

tt Anderson, vol. i. p. 371. 

tt 22 Henry VIII. c 12. 22 Henry VIII. e. 5. 



318 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. |A.D. 1547 

In 154 6, a law was made for fixing the interest of money 
at ten per cent. , the first legal interest known in England. 
Formerly all loans of that nature were regarded as usurious. 
The preamble of this very law treats the interest of money 
as illegal and criminal ; and the prejudices still remained so 
strong, that the law permitting interest was repealed in the 
lbllowing reign. 

This reign, as Avell as many of the foregoing and even 
subsequent reigns, abounds with monopolizing laws, confining 
particular manufactures to particular towns, or excluding the 
open country in general.* There remain still too many traces 
of similar absurdities. In the subsequent reign, the corpora 
tions which had been opened by a former law, and obliged to 
admit tradesmen of different kinds, were again shut up by act 
of parliament ; and every one was prohibited from exercising 
any trade who was not of the corporation. t 

Henry, as he possessed himself some talent for letters, was 
an encourager of them in others. He founded Trinity College 
in Cambridge, and gave it ample endowments. Wolsey 
founded Christ Church in Oxford, and intended to call it 
Cardinal College : but upon his fall, which happened before 
he had entirely finished his scheme, the king seized all the 
revenues ; and this violence, above all the other misfortunes of 
that minister, is said to have given him the greatest concern.! 
But Henry afterwards restored the revenues of the college, 
and only changed the name. The cardinal founded in Oxford 
the first chair for teaching Greek ; and this novelty rent that 
university into violent factions, which frequently came to blows, 
The students divided themselves into parties, which bore the 
names of Greeks and Trojans, and sometimes fought with as 
great animosity as was formerly exercised by those hostile 
nations. A new and more correct method of pronouncing 
Greek being introduced, it also divided the Grecians them- 
selves into parties ; and it was" remarked that the Catholics 
favored the former pronunciation, the Protestants gave coun- 
tenance to the new. Gardiner employed the authority of the 
king and council to suppress innovations in this particular, 
and to preserve the corrupt sound of the Greek alphabet. So 
little liberty was then allowed of any kind ! The penalties 

* 21 Henry VIII. c. 12. 26 Henry VIII. c. 18. 3 and 4 Edward 
VI. c. 20. 5 and 6 Edward "Vic. 24". 

t 3 and 4 Edward VI. c 20. J Strype, vol. i. ]\ 117 



A. D. 1517. 1 henry vm. 319 

inflicted upon the new pronunciation were no less than whip- 
ping, degradation, and expulsion ; and the bishop declared, 
that rather than permit the liberty of innovating in the pronun- 
ciation of the Greek alphabet, it were better that the language 
itself were totally banished the universities. The introduction 
of the Greek language into Oxford excited the emulation of 
Cambridge.* Wolsey intended to have enriched the library 
of his college at Oxford with copies of all the manuscripts 
that were in the Vatican. t The countenance given to letters 
by this king and his ministers contributed to render learning 
fashionable in England : Erasmus speaks with great satisfac- 
tion of the general regard paid by the nobility and gentry to 
men of knowledge. | It is needless to be particular in men- 
tioning the writers of this reign or of the preceding. There 
is no man of that age who has the least pretension to be 
ranked among our classics. Sir Thomas More, though he 
wrote in Latin, seems to come the nearest to the charaotei 
of a classical author. 

* Wood's Hist, and Antiq. Oxon. lib. i. p. 245. 
t Wood's Hist, and Antiq. Oxon. lib. i. p. 249. 
I Epist. ad Banisium, . 1 , l o Epist. p. 368. 



32 U KTSTORY OF ENGLAND. I A D. 1547 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

EDWARD VI. 

CONTEMPORARY MONARCHS. 
Ehp. op Germ. I K. of France. I K. of Spain. I Q. of Scotland. | Popes. 

Claries V. Francis .... 1547 Charles V. Mary. Paul III |Mt 

I Henry II. I | Julius lit 

[1547.] The late king, by the regulations which he im- 
posed on the government of his infant son, as well as by the 
limitations of the succession, had projected to reign even after 
his decease ; and he imagined that his ministers, who had 
always been so obsequious to him during his lifetime, would 
never afterwards depart from the plan which he had traced 
out to them. He fixed the majority of the prince at the com- 
pletion of his eighteenth year ; and as Edward was then only 
a few months past nine, he appointed sixteen executors ; to 
whom, during the minority, he intrusted the government of 
the king and kingdom. Their names were, Cranmer, arch- 
bishop of Canterbury ; Lord Wriothesely, chancellor ; Lord 
St. John, great master ; Lord Russel, privy seal ; the earl 
of Hertford, chamberlain ; Viscount Lisle, admiral ; Tonstal, 
bishop of Durham ; Sir Anthony Brown, master of horse ', 
Sir William Paget, secretary of state ; Sir Edward North, 
chancellor of the court of augmentations ; Sir Edward Mon- 
tague, chief justice of the common pleas ; Judge Bromley, 
Sir Anthony Denny, and Sir William Herbert, chief gentle- 
men of the privy chamber ; Sir Edward Wotton, treasurer of 
Calais ; Dr. Wotton, dean of Canterbury. To these executors, 
with whom was intrusted the whole regal authority, were ap- 
pointed twelve counsellors, who possessed no immediate power, 
and could only assist with their advice when any affair was 
laid before them. The council was composed of the earls 
of Arundel and Essex ; Sir Thomas Cheney, treasurer of 
the household ; Sir John Gage, comptroller ; Sir Anthony 
Wingfield, vice-chamberlain ; Sir William Petre, secretary of 
state ; Sir Richard Rich, Sir John Baker, Sir Ralph Sadler, 
Si/ Thomas Seymour, Sir Richard Southwell, and Sir Edmund 



A. D. 1517. J EDWARD VI. 321 

Peckham.* The usual caprice of Henry appears somewhat 
in this nomination ; while he appointed several persons of 
inferior station among his executors, and gave only the place 
of counsellor to a person of such high rank as the earl of 
Arundel, and to Sir Thomas Seymour, the king's uncle 

But the first act of the executors and counsellors was to 
depart from the destination of the late king in a mateiial 
article. No sooner were they met, than it was suggested that 
the government would lose its dignity for want of some head 
who might represent the royal majesty, who might receive 
addresses from foreign ambassadors, to whom despatches from 
English ministers abroad might be carried, and whose name 
might be employed in all orders and proclamations : and as 
the king's will seemed to labor under a defect in this particu- 
lar, it was deemed necessary to supply it by choosing a pro- 
tector; who, though he should possess all the exterior symbols 
of royal dignity, should yet be bound, in every act of power, 
to follow the opinion of the executors. t This proposal was 
very disagreeable to Chancellor Wriothesely. That magis- 
trate, a man of an active spirit and high ambition, found him- 
self by his office entitled to the first rank in the regency after 
the primate ; and as he knew that this prelate had no talent 
or inclination for state affairs, he hoped that the direction of 
public business would, of course, devolve in a great measui*; 
upon himself. He opposed, therefore, the proposal of choos- 
ing a protector ; and represented that innovation as an in- 
fringement of the late king's will, which, being corroborated 
by act of parliament, ought in every thing to be a law to them, 
and could not be altered but by the same authority which had 
established it. But he seems to have stood alone in the oppo- 
sition. The executors and counsellors were mostly courtiera 
who had been raised by Henry's favor, not men of high birth 
or great hereditary influence ; and as they had been suffi- 
ciently accustomed to submission during the reign of the late 
monarch, and had no pretensions to govern the nation by their 
own authority, they acquiesced the more willingly in a pro- 
posal which seemed calculated for preserving public peace 
and tranquillity. It being therefore agreed to name a pro 
tector, the choice fell, of course, on the earl of Hertford, who, 
as he was the king's maternal uncle, was strongly interested 
in his safety ; and possessing no claims to inherit the crown, 

* Slrype's Memov. vol. ii. p. 457. 1 Burnet vcu « v .7 



322 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1547 

could never have any separate interest which might lead hirn 
to endanger Edward's person or his authority.* The public 
was informed by proclamation of this change in the adminis- 
tration ; and despatches were sent to all foreign courts to give 
them intimation of it. All those who were possessed of any 
office resigned their former commissions, and accepted new 
ones in the name of the young king. The bishops themselves 
were constrained to make a like submission. Care was taken 
to insert in their new commissions, that they held their office 
during pleasure : t and it is there expressly affirmed, that all 
manner of authority and jurisdiction, as well ecclesiastical as 
civil, is originally derived from the crown, t 

The executors, in their next measure, showed a more sub 
missive deference to Henry's will, because many of them 
found their account in it. The late king had intended, before 
his death, to make a new creation of nobility, in order to 
supply the place of those peerages which had fallen by former 
attainders, or the failure of issue ; and that he might enable 
the new peers to support their dignity, he had resolved either 
to bestow estates on them, or advance them to higher offices. 
He had even gone so far as to inform them of this resolution ; 
and in his will he charged his executors to make good all his 
promises. $ That they might ascertain his intentions in the 
most authentic manner, Sir William Paget, Sir Anthony 
Denny, and Sir William Herbert, with whom Henry had 
always conversed in a familiar manner, were called before 
the board of regency ; and having given evidence of what 
they knew concerning the king's promises, their testimony 
was relied on, and the executors proceeded to the fulfilling of 
these engagements. Hertford was created duke of Somerset, 
mareschal, and lord treasurer ; Wriothesely, earl of South- 
ampton ; the earl of Essex, marquis of Northampton ; Vis 
count Lisle, earl of Warwick ; Sir Thomas Seymour, Lord 
Seymour of Sudley, and admiral ; Sir Puchard Rich, Sir 
William Willoughby. Sir Edward Sheffield accepted the 
title of baron. || Several, to whom the same dignity was 
offered, refused it ; because the other part of the king's 
promise, the bestowing of estates on these new noblemen, 

* Heylin, Hist. Ref. Edward VI. 

' Collier, vol. ii. p. 218. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 6. Strype s Mem. at 
,ranm. p. 141. 
t Slryr>°'s Mem. of Cranm. p. 141. 
i fuller s Heylin, and Rymer. || Stowe's Annals, p. 594. 



A.D. 1547.J edward vi. 323 

was deferred till a more convenient opportunity. Some of 
them, however, as also Somerset, the protector, were, in the 
mean time, endowed with spiritual preferments, deaneries, and 
prebends. For, among many other invasions of ecclesiastical 
privileges and property, this irregular practice of bestowing 
spiritual benefices on laymen began now to prevail. 

The earl of Southampton had always been engaged in an 
opposite party to Somerset ; and it was not likely that factions 
which had secretly prevailed even during the arbitrary reign 
of Henry, should be suppressed in the weak administration 
that usually attends a minority. The former nobleman, that 
he might have the greater leisure for attending to public 
business, had, of himself and from his own authority, put the 
great seal in commission, and had empowered four lawyers, 
Southwell, Tregonel, Oliver, and Bellasis, to execute in his 
absence the office of chancellor. This measure seemed very 
exceptionable ; and the more so, as, two of the commissioners 
being canonists, the lawyers suspected that, by this nornina 
tion, the chancellor had intended to discredit the common law 
Complaints were made to the council, who, influenced by 
the protector, gladly laid hold of the opportunity to depress 
Southampton. They consulted the judges with regard to so 
unusual a case ; and received for answer, that the commission 
was illegal, and that the chancellor, by his presumption in 
granting it, had justly forfeited the great seal, and was even 
liable to punishment. The council summoned him to appear 
before them. He maintained that he held his office by the 
late king's will, founded on an act of parliament, and could 
not lose it without a trial in parliament ; that if the com- 
mission which he had granted were found illegal, it might be 
cancelled, and all the ill consequences of it be easily remedied ; 
and that the depriving him of his office for an error of this 
nature, was a precedent by which any other innovation might 
be authorized. But the council, notwithstanding these topics 
of defence, declared that he had forfeited the great seal ; that 
a fine should be imposed upon him ; and that he should be 
confined to his own house during pleasure.* 

The removal of Southampton increased the protector's au- 
thority, as well as tended to suppress faction in the regency ; 
yet was not Somerset contented with this advantage ; his ambi- 
tion carried him to seek still further acquisitions. On pretence 



* Holingshed, p. 979. 



324 history of England. [A. D. 1547. 

that the vote of the executors, choosing him protector, was not 
a sufficient foundation for his authority, he procured a patent 
from the young king, by which he entirely overturned the will 
of Henry VIII. , produced a total revolution in the govern- 
ment, and may seem even to have subverted all the laws 
sf the kingdom. He named himself protector with full regal 
power, and appointed a council, consisting of all the formel 
counsellors, and all the executors, except Southampton ; ho 
reserved a power of naming any other counsellors at pleasure ; 
and he was bound to consult with such only as he thought 
proper. The protector and his council were likewise em 
powered to act at discretion, and to execute whatever they 
deemed for the public service, without incurring any penalty 
o: forfeiture from any law, statute, proclamation, or ordinance 
whatsoever.* Even had this patent been more moderate in 
its concessions, and had it been drawn by directions from the 
executors appointed by Henry, its legality might justly be 
questioned ; since it seems essential to a trust of this nature to 
be exercised by the persons intrusted, and not to admit of a 
delegation to others : but as the patent, by its very tenor, 
where the executors are not so much as mentioned, appears 
to have been surreptitiously obtained from a minor king, the 
protectorship of Somerset was a plain usurpation, which it is 
impossible by any arguments to justify. The connivance, 
however, of the executors, and their present acquiescence in 
the new establishment, made it be universally submitted to ; 
and as the young king discovered an extreme attachment to 
his uncle, who was also, in the main, a man of moderation and 
probity, no objections were made to his power and title. All 
men of sense, likewise, who saw the nation divided by the 
religious zeal of the opposite sects, deemed it the more neces- 
sary to intrust the government to one person, who might check 
the exorbitancies of faction, and insure the public tranquillity. 
And though some clauses of the patent seemed to imply a 
formal subversion of all limited government, so little jealousy 
was then usually entertained on that head, that no exception 
was ever taken at bare claims or pretensions of this nature, 
advanced by any person possessed of sovereign power. The 
actual exercise alone of arbitrary administration, and that in 
many, and great, and flagrant, and unpopular instances, was 
able sometimes to give some umbrage to the nation. 

* Burnet, voi ii. Records, No. 0. 



A..D. 1547.} edwarp vi. 323 

The extensive authority and imper.ous character of Henry 
had retained the partisans of both religions in subjection ; but 
upon 3ns demise, the hopes of the Protestants and the fears 
of the Catholics began to revive, and the zeal of these parties 
produced every where disputes and animosities, the usual 
preludes to more fatal divisions. The protector had long been 
regarded as a secret partisan of the reformers ; and being 
now freed from restraint, he scrupled not to discover his 
intention of correcting all abuses in the ancient religion, 
and of adopting still more of the Protestant innovations. He 
took care that all persons intrusted with the king's education 
should be attached to the same principles ; and as the young 
prince discovered a zeal for every kind of literature, especially 
the theological, far beyond his tender years, all men foresaw, 
in the course of his reign, the total abolition of the Catholic 
faith in England ; and they early began to declare themselves 
in favor of those tenets, which were likely to become in the 
end entirely prevalent. After Southampton's fall, few mem- 
bers of the council seemed to retain any attachment to the 
Romish communion ; and most of the counsellors appeared 
even sanguine in forwarding the progress of the reformation. 
The riches which most of them had acquired from the spoils 
of the clergy, induced them to widen the breach between Eng- 
land and Rome ; and by establishing a contrariety of specu- 
lative tenets, as well as of discipline and worship, to render 
a coalition with the mother church altogether impracticable.* 
Their rapacity also, the chief source of their reforming spirit, 
was excited by the prospect of pillaging the secular, as they 
had already dene the regular clergy ; and they knew that 
while any share of the old principles remained, or any regard 
to the ecclesiastics, they could never hope to succeed in that 
enterprise. 

The numerous and burdensome superstitions with which the 
Romish church was loaded, had thrown many of the reformers, 
by the spirit of opposition, into an enthusiastic strain of devo- 
tion ; and all rites, ceremonies, pomp, order, and exterior ob- 
servances, were zealously proscribed by them, as hinderances 
to their spiritual contemplations, and obstructions to their im- 
mediate converse with Heaven. Many circumstances concurred 
to inflame this daring spirit ; the novelty itself of their doc- 
trines, the triumph of making proselytes, the furious persecu 

* Goodwin's Annals. Heylin. 



826 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1547 

tions to which they were exposed, their animosity against the 
ancient tenets and practices, and the necessity of procuring the 
concurrence of the laity by depressing the hierarchy, and by 
tendering to them the plunder of the ecclesiastics. Wherever 
the reformation prevailed over the opposition of civil authority, 
this genius of religion appeared in its full extent, and was 
attended with consequences, which, though less durable, were, 
tor some time, not less dangerous than those which were con 
aected with the ancient superstition. But as the magistrate 
took the lead in England, the transition was more gradual ; 
much of the ancient religion was still preserved, and a reason- 
able degree of subordination was retained in discipline, as well 
as some pomp, order, and ceremony in public worship. 

The protector, in his schemes for advancing the reformation, 
had always recourse to the counsels of Cranmer, who, being 
a man of moderation and prudence, was averse to all violent 
changes, and determined to bring over the people, by insensible 
innovations, to that system of doctrine and discipline which he 
deemed the most pure and perfect. He probably also foresaw, 
that a system which carefully avoided the extremes of reforma- 
tion, was likely to be most lasting ; and that a devotion, merely 
spiritual, was fitted only for the first fervors of a new sect, and 
upon the relaxation of these naturally gave place to the inroads 
of superstition. He seems therefore to have intended the 
establishment of a hierarchy, which, being suited to a great 
and settled government, might stand as a perpetual barrier 
against Rome, and might retain the reverence of the people, 
even after their enthusiastic zeal was diminished, or entirely 
evaporated. 

The person who opposed with greatest authority any further 
advances towards reformation, was Gardiner, bishop of Win 
ohester ; who, though he had not obtained a place in tha 
council of regency, on account of late disgusts which he had 
given to Henry, was entitled, by his age, experience, and 
capacity, to the highest trust and confidence of his party. 
This prelate still continued to magnify the great wisdom and 
learning of the late king, which, indeed, were generally and 
eincereiy revered by the nation ; and he insisted on the pru- 
dence of persevering, at least till the young king's majority 
in the ecclesiastical model established by that great monarch 
He defended the use of images, which were now openly 
attacked by the Protestants ; and he represented them as ser 
viccable in maintaining a sense of religion among th<? illit 



A.D 1547.] euward vi 32? 

erate multitude.* He even deigned to write an apology loi 
' holy water," which Bishop Ridley had decried in a sermon, 
and he maintained that, by the power of the Almighty, it 
might be rendered an instrument of doing good, as much as 
the shadow of St. Peter, the hem of Christ's garment, or the 
spittle and clay laid upon the eyes of the blind.t Above all, 
he insisted that the laws ought to be observed, that the con- 
stitution ought to be preserved inviolate, and that it was dan- 
gerous to follow the will of the sovereign, in opposition to an 
act of parliament. J 

But though there remained at that time in England an idea 
of laws and a constitution, sufficient at least to furnish a topic 
of argument to such as were discontented with any immediate 
exercise of authority, this plea could scarcely, in the present 
case, be maintained with any plausibility by Gardiner. An 
act of parliament had invested the crown with a legislative 
power ; and royal proclamations, even during a minority, were 
armed with the force of laws. The protector, finding himself 
supported by this statute, was determined to employ his author- 
ity in favor of the reformers ; and having suspended, during the 
interval, the jurisdiction of the bishops, he appointed a general 
visitation to be made in all the dioceses of England. § The 
visitors consisted of a mixture of clergy and laity, and had six 
circuits assigned them. The chief purport of their instruc- 
tions was, besides correcting immoralities and irregularities in 
the clergy, to abolish the ancient superstitions, and to bring 
the discipline and worship somewhat nearer the practice of 
the reformed churches. The moderation of Somerset and 
Cranmer is apparent in the conduct of this delicate affair. 
The visitors were enjoined to retain for the present all images 
which had not been abused to idolatry ; and to instruct the 
people not to despise such ceremonies as were not yet abro- 
gated, but only to beware of some particular superstitions, 
such as the sprinkling of their beds with holy water, and the 
ringing of bells, or using of consecrated candles, in order to 
drive away the devil. || 

But nothing required more the correcting hand of authority 
than the abuse of preaching, which was now generally em 



* Fox, vol. ii. p. 712. t Fox, vol. ii. p. 724 

J Collier, vol. ii. p. 22S. F >x, vol. ii. 
\ Mem. Cranin. p. 146, 147, etc. 
JS Burnet, vol. ii. p. 28. 



328 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. l<547. 

ployed throughout England in defending the ancient prac« 
tices and superstitions. The court of augmentation, in ordei 
to ease the exchequer of the annuities paid to monks, had 
commonly placed them in the vacant churches ; and these 
men were led by interest, as well as by inclination, to support 
those principles which had been invented for the profit of the 
clergy. Orders therefore were given to restrain the topics of 
their sermons : twelve homilies were published, which they 
were enjoined to read to the people : and all of them were 
prohibited, without express permission, from preaching any 
where but in their parish churches. The purpose of this 
injunction was to throw a restraint on the Catholic divines ; 
while the Protestant, by the grant of particular licenses, should 
be allowed unbounded liberty. 

Bonner made some opposition to these measures ; but soon 
after retracted and acquiesced. Gardiner was more high 
spirited and more steady. He represented the peril of per- 
petual innovations, and the necessity of adhering to some sys- 
tem. "'Tis a dangerous thing," said he, "to use too much 
freedom in researches of this kind. If you cut the old canal, 
the water is apt to run farther than you have a mind to. If 
you indulge the humor of novelty, you cannot put a stop to 
people's demands, nor govern their indiscretions at pleasure." 
" For my part," said he, on another occasion, " my sole con- 
cern is, to manage the third and last act of my life with de- 
cency, and to make a handsome exit off the stage. Provided 
this point is secured, I am not solicitous about the rest. 1 
am already by nature condemned to death : no man can give 
me a pardon from this sentence ; nor so much as procuie me 
a reprieve. To speak my mind, and to act as my conscience 
directs, are two branches of liberty which I can never part 
with. Sincerity in speech, and integrity in action, are enter- 
taining qualities : they will stick by a man when every thing 
else takes its leave : and I must not resign them upon any 
consideration. The best on it is, if I do not throw them away 
myself, no man can force them from me : but if I give them 
up, then am I ruined myself, and deserve to lose all my pre- 
ferments."* This opposition of Gardiner drew on him the 
indignation of the council ; and he was sent to the Fleet, 
where he was used with some severity. 



* Collier, vol. ii. p. 228, ex MS. Col. C. C Cantak Bibliotheos 
Britannica, article Gardiner. 



AD. 15-17.] EDWARD Vi. J29 

One of the chief objections urged by Gardiner against th« 
new homilies was, that they defined with the most metaphysi- 
cal precision the doctrines of grace, and of justification by 
faith ; points, he thought, which it was superfluous for any 
man to know exactly, and which certainly much exceeded the 
comprehension of the vulgar. A famous martyrologist calls 
Gardiner, on account of this opinion, " an insensible ass, and 
one that had no feeling of God's spirit in the matter of justi- 
fication." * The meanest Protestant imagined, at that time, 
that he had a full comprehension of all those mysterious doc- 
trines ; and he heartily despised the most learned and knowing 
person of the ancient religion, who acknowledged his igno- 
rance with regard to tbem. It is indeed certain, that the re- 
formers were very fortunate in their doctrine of justification ; 
and might venture to foretell its success, in opposition to all 
the ceremonies, shows, and superstitions of Popery. By ex- 
alting Christ and his sufferings, and renouncing all claim to 
independent merit in ourselves, it was calculated to become 
popular, and coincided with those principles of panegyric and 
of self-abasement which generally have place in religion. 

Tonstal, bishop of Durham, having, as well as Gardiner, 
made some opposition to the new regulations, was dismissed 
the council ; but no further severity was for the present exer- 
cised against him. He was a man of great moderation, and 
of the most unexceptionable character in the kingdom. 

The same religious zeal which engaged Somerset to pro- 
mote the reformation at home, led him to carry his attention 
to foreign countries ; where the interests of the Protestants 
were now exposed to the most imminent danger. The Roman 
pontiff", with much reluctance, and after long delays, had at 
last summoned a general council, which was assembled at 
Trent, and was employed both in correcting the abuses of the 
church, and in ascertaining her doctrines. The emperor, 
who desired to repress the power of the court of Home, as 
well as gain over the Protestants, promoted the former object 
of the council ; the pope, who found his own greatness so 
d»aply interested, desired rather to employ them in the latter. 
He gave instructions to his legates, who presided in the coun 
oil, to protract the debates, and to engage the theologians in 
argument, and altercation, and dispute concerning the nice 
points of faith canvassed before them ; a policy so easy to be 

* Fox, vol. ii. 



330 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1547 

executed, that the legates soon found it rather necessary to 
interpose, in order to appease the animosity of the divines, 
and bring them at last to some decision.* The more difficult 
task for the legates was, to moderate or divert the zeal of the 
council for reformation, and to repress the ambition of tht* 
prelates, who desired to exalt the episcopal authority on the 
ruins of the sovereign pontiff. Finding this humor become 
prevalent, the legates, on pretence that the plague had broken 
out at Trent, transferred of a sudden the council to Bologna, 
where they hoped it would be more under the direction of his 
holiness. 

The emperor, no less than the pope, had learned to make 
religion subservient to his ambition and policy. He was 
resolved to employ the imputation of heresy as a pretence fo* 
subduing the Protestant princes, and oppressing the liberties 
of Germany ; but found it necessary to cover his intentions 
under deep artifice, and to prevent the combination of his 
adversaries. He separated the Palatine and the elector of 
Brandenburgh from the Protestant confederacy : he took 
arms against the elector of Saxony and the landgrave of 
Hesse : by the fortune of war he made the former prisoner : 
he employed treachery and prevarication against the latter, 
and detained him captive, by breaking a safe-conduct which 
he had granted him. He seemed to have reached the summit 
of his ambition ; and the German princes, who were aston- 
ished with his success, were further discouraged by the intelli 
gence which they had received of the death, first of Henry 
VTIL, then of Francis I., their usual resources in every 
calamity. t 

Henry II., who succeeded to the crown of France, was a 
prince of vigor and abilities ; but less hasty in his resolutions 
than Francis, and less inflamed with rivalship and animosity 
against the emperor Charles. Though he sent ambassadors 
to the princes of the Smalcaldic league, and promised them 
protection, he was unwilling, in the commencement of his 
reign, to hurry into a war with so great a power as that of the 
emperor ; and he thought that the alliance of those princes 
was a sure resource, which he could at any time lay hold of. \ 
He was much governed by the duke of Guise and the cardinal 
of Lorraine ; and he hearkened to their counsel, in choosing 
father to give immediate assistance to Scotland, his ancient 

* Father Paul, lib ii. t Sleidan. t Pere Daniel 



A.D. 1547.J EDWARD VI. 3Uj 

ally, which, even before the death of Henry VIII., hail loudly 
claimed the protection of the French monarchy. 

The hatred between the two factions, the partisans of the 
ancient and those of the new religion, became every day more 
violent, in Scotland ; and the resolution which the cardinal 
primate had taken, to employ the most rigorous punishments 
against the reformers, brought matters to a quick decision 
There was one Wishart, a gentleman by birth, who employed 
himself with great zeal in preaching against the ancient super- 
stitions, and began to give alarm to the clergy, who were 
justly terrified with the danger of some fatal revolution in 
religion. This man M'as celebrated lor the purity of his 
morals, and for his extensive learning ; but these praises can- 
not be much depended on ; because we know that, among the 
reformers, severity of manners supplied the place of many 
virtues ; and the age was in general so ignorant, that most of 
the priests in Scotland imagined the New Testament to be a 
composition of Luther's, and asserted that the Old alone was 
the Word of God.* But however the case may have stood 
with regard to those estimable qualities ascribed to Wishart, 
he was strongly possessed with the desire of innovation ; and 
he enjoyed those talents which qualified him for becoming 
a popular preacher, and for seizing the attention and affec- 
tions of the multitude. The magistrates of Dundee, where he 
exercised his mission, were alarmed with his progress ; and 
being unable or unwilling to treat him with rigor, they con 
tented themselves with denying him the liberty of preaching, 
and with dismissing him the bounds of their jurisdiction 
Wishart, moved with indignation that they had dared to reject 
him, together with the word of God, menaced them, in imita- 
tion of the ancient prophets, with some imminent calamity ; 
and he withdrew to the west country, where he daily increased 
the number of his proselytes. Meanwhile, a plague broke 
out in Dundee ; and all men exclaimed, that the town had 
drawn down the vengeance of Heaven by banishing the pious 
preacher, and that the pestilence would never cease, till they 
had made him atonement for their offense against him. No 
sooner did Wishart hear of this change in their disposition, 
than he returned to them, and made them a new tender of his 
doctrine : but lest he should spread the contagion by bringing 
multitudes together, he erected his pulpit on the top of a gate ; 



* See note S. at the end of the volume. 



332 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1 S47 

the infected stcod within, the others Avithout. And the 
preacher failed not, in such a situation, to take advantage of 
the immediate terrors of the people, and to enforce his evan 
gelical mission.* 

The assiduity and success of Wishart became an object of 
attention to Cardinal Beatoun ; and he resolved, by the pun- 
shmcnt of so celebrated a preacher, to strike a terror into all 
other innovators. He engaged the earl of Bothwell to arrest 
him, and to deliver him into his hands, contrary to a promise 
given by Bothwell to that unhappy man ; and being possessed 
of his prey, he conducted him to St. Andrews, where, after a 
trial, he condemned him to the flames for heresy. Arran, the 
governor, was irresolute in his temper ; and the cardinal, 
though he had gained him over to his party, found that he 
would not concur in the condemnation and execution of Wish- 
art. He determined, therefore, without the assistance of the 
secular arm, to bring that heretic to punishment ; and he him- 
self beheld from his window the dismal spectacle. Wishart 
suffered with the usual patience, but could not forbear remark- 
ing the triumph of his insulting enemy. He foretold that, in 
a lew days, he should, in the very same place, lie as low aa 
now he was exalted aloft in opposition to true piety and reli- 
gion. t 

This prophecy was probably the immediate cause of the 
event which it foretold. The disciptes of this martyr, en- 
raged at the cruel execution, formed a conspiracy against the 
cardinal ; and having associated to them Norman Lesly, who 
was disgusted on account of some private quarrel, they con- 
ducted their enterprise with great secrecy and success. Early 
in the morning, they entered the cardinal's palace, which he 
had strongly fortified, and though they were not above sixteen 
persons, they thrust out a hundred tradesmen and fifty ser- 
vants, whom they seized separately, before any suspicior 
arose of their intentions ; and having shut the gates, they pro- 
ceeded very deliberately to execute their purpose on the car- 
dinal. That prelate had been alarmed with the noise which 
he heard in the castle, and had barricadoed the door of his 
chamber ; but finding that they had brought fire in order to 
force their way, and having obtained, as is believed, a promise 
of life, he opened the door, and reminding them that he was a 

* Knox's Hist, of Ref. p. 44. Spotswood. 
t Spotswond. Bvchanan. 



A.D 1547. 1 ELWAUD vi. 333 

priest, he conjured them to spare him. Two of the assassins 
rushed upon him with drawn swords ; but a third, James Mel- 
vil, more calm and more considerate in villainy, stopped their 
career, and bade them reflect, that this sacrifice was the work 
and judgment of God, and ought to be executed with becom- 
ing deliberation and gravity. Then turning the point of his 
word towards Beatoun, he called to him, " Repent thee, 
thou wicked cardinal, of all thy sins and iniquities, especially 
of the murder of Wishart, that instrument of God for the 
conversion of these lands : it is his death which now cries 
vengeance upon thee : we are sent by God to inflict the de- 
served punishment. For here, belbre the Almighty, I protest, 
that it is neither hatred of thy person, nor love of thy riches, 
nor fear of thy power, which moves me to seek thy death , 
but only because thou hast been, and still remainest, an obsti- 
nate enemy to Christ Jesus and his holy gospel." Having 
spoken these words, without giving Beatoun time to finish that 
repentance to which he exhorted him, he thrust him through 
the body; and the cardinal fell dead at his feet.* This mur- 
der was executed on the twenty-eighth of May, 1546. The 
assassins, being reenforced by their friends to the number of 
a hundred and forty persons, prepared themselves for the 
defence of the castle, and sent a messenger to London craving 
assistance from Henry. That prince, though Scotland was 
comprehended in his peace with France, would not forego the 
opportunity of disturbing the government of a rival kingdom ; 
and he promised to take them under his protection. 

It was the peculiar misfortune of Scotland, that five short 
reigns had been followed successively by as many long minor 
ities ; and the execution of justice, which the prince was be 
ginning to introduce, had been continually interrupted by the 
cabals, factions, and animosities of the great. But besides these 
inveterate and ancient evils, a new source of disorder had 

* The famous Scotch reformer, John Knox, calls James Melvi] 
(p. 65) a man most gentle and most modest. It is very horrid, but at 
the same time somewhat amusing, to consider the joy, and alacrity 
and pleasure which that historian discovers in his narrative of this 
assassmatioii ; and it is remarkable, that in the first edition of his 
work, these words were printed in the margin of the page : " The 
i:odiy Fact and Words of James Melvii. : ' But the following editors 
retrenched them. Knox himself had no hand in ths murder of Bea- 
toun ; but he afterwards joined the assassins, and assisted tbera in 
holdinsr out the castle. See Keith's Hist, of the Ref. of Scotland 
p. 43 



**34 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1547 

arisen, Tlie disputes and contentions of theology, which wen 
sufficient to disturb the most settled government ; and the 
death of the cardinal, who was possessed of abilities and vigor, 
seemed much to weaken the hands of the administration. 
But the queen dowager was a woman of uncommon talents 
and virtue ; and she did as much to support the government, 
and supply the weakness of Arran, the governor, as could he 
expected in her situation. 

The protector of England, as soon as the state was brought 
to some composure, made preparations for war with Scotland ; 
and he was determined to execute, if possible, that project of 
uniting the two kingdoms by marriage, on which the late king 
had been so intent, and which he had recommended with his 
dying breath to his executors. He levied an army of eighteen 
thousand men, and equipped a fleet of sixty sail, one half of 
which were ships of war, the other laden with provisions and 
ammunition. He gave the command of the fleet to Lord Clin- 
ton : he himself marched at the head of the army, attended by 
the earl of Warwick. These hostile measures were covered 
with a pretence of revenging some depredations committed by 
the borderers : but besides that Somerset revived the ancient 
claim of the superiority of the English crown over that of 
Scotland, he refused to enter into negotiation on any other 
condition than the marriage of the young queen with Edward. 

The protector, before he opened the campaign, published a 
manifesto, in which he enforced all the arguments for that 
measure. He said, that nature seemed originally to have 
intended this island for one empire, and having cut it off from 
all communication with foreign states, and guarded it by the 
ocean, she had pointed out to the inhabitants the road to 
happiness and to security ; that the education and customs 
of the people concurred with nature ; and, by giving them the 
same language, and laws, and manners, had invited them to a 
thorough union and coalition : that fortune had at last removed 
all obstacles, and had prepared an expedient by which they 
might become one people, without leaving any place for that 
jealousy either of honor or of interest, to which rival nations 
are naturally exposed : that the crown of Scotland had devolved 
on a female ; that of England on a male ; and happily tlie 
two sovereigns, as of a rank, were also of an age the most 
suitable to each other : that the hostile dispositions which pre- 
vailed between the nations, and which arose from past injuries, 
would soon be extinguished, after a long and secure peace 



A. D. 1547.] edward vi. 336 

had established confidence between them : that the memory 
of former miseries, which at present inflamed their mutual 
animosity, would then serve only to make them cherish with 
more passion a state of happiness and tranquillity so long 
unknown to their ancestors : that when hostilities had ceased 
between the kingdoms, the Scottish nobility, who were at 
present obliged to remain perpetually in a warlike posture, 
would learn to cultivate the arts of peace, and would soften 
their minds to a love of domestic order and obedience : that 
as this situation was desirable to both kingdoms, so particu- 
larly to Scotland, which had been exposed to the greatest 
miseries from intestine and foreign wars, and saw herself 
every moment in danger of losing her independency by the 
eflbrts of a richer and more powerful people : that though 
England had claims of superiority, she was willing to resign 
every pretension for the sake of future peace ; and desired a 
union which would be the more secure, as it would be con- 
cluded on terms entirely equal ; and that, besides all these 
motives, positive engagements had been taken for completing 
this alliance ; and the honor and good faith of the nation were 
pledged to fulfil what her interest and safety so loudly de 
manded.* 

Somerset soon perceived that these remonstrances would 
have no influence ; and that the queen dowager's attachment 
to France and to the Catholic religion would render ineffectual 
all negotiations for the intended marriage. He found himself, 
therefore, obliged to try the force of arms, and to constrain 
the Scots by necessity to submit to a measure for which they 
seemed to have entertained the most incurable aversion. He 
passed the borders at Berwick, and advanced towaiis Edin 
burgh, without meeting any resistance for some days, except 
from some small castles, which he obliged to surrender at dis- 
cretion. The protector intended to have punished the gov- 
ernor and garrison of one of these castles for their temerity in 
resisting such unequal force : but they eluded his anger by 
asking only a few hours' respite, till they should prepare them- 
selves for death ; after which they found his ears more open 
to their applications for mercy. t 

The governor of Scotland had summoned together the whole 
force of the kingdom ; and his army, double in number to 

* Sir John Haywood in Kennet, p. 279. Heylin, p. 42. 
t Haywood. Patten. 



336 HISTORY OF 1NGLA1VD, [A.D.I 547 

that of the English, had taken post on advantageous ground, 
guarded by the banks of the Eske, about four miles from 
Edinburgh. The English came within sight of them at 
Faside ; and after a skirmish between the horse, where the 
Scots were worsted, and Lord Hume dangerously wounded, 
Somerset prepared himself for a more decisive action. But 
having taken a view of the Scottish camp with the earl of 
Warwick, he found, it difficult to make an attempt upon it 
with any probability of success. He wrote, therefore, anothei 
letter to Arran ; and offered to evacuate the kingdom, as well 
as to repair all the damages which he had committed, pro- 
vided the Scots would stipulate not to contract the queen to 
any foreign prince, but to detain her at home till she reached 
the age of choosing a husband for herself. So moderate a 
demand was rejected by the Scots merely on account of its 
moderation ; and it made them imagine that the protector must 
either be reduced to great distress, or be influenced by fear, 
that he was now contented to abate so much of his former 
pretensions. Inflamed also by their priests, who had come to 
the camp in great numbers, they believed that the English 
were detestable heretics, abhorred of God, and exposed to di- 
vine vengeance ; and that no success could ever crown their 
arms. They were confirmed in this fond conceit when they 
saw the protector change his ground, and move towards the 
sea ; nor did they any longer doubt that he intended to embark 
his army, and make his escape on board the ships which at that 
very time moved into the bay opposite to him.* Determined 
therefore to cut off his retreat, they quitted their camp ; and 
passing the River Eske, advanced into the plain. They were 
divided into three bodies : Angus commanded the vanguard ; 
Arran the main body ; Huntley the rear : their cavalry con- 
sisted only of light horse, which were placed cti their left 
Hank, strengthened by some Irish archers whom Argyle had 
brought #yer for this service. 

Somerset was much pleased when he saw this movement 
of the Scottish army ; and as the English had usually been 
superior in pitched battles, he conceived great hopes of sue* 
cess. He ranged his van on the left, farthest from the sea ; 
and ordered them to remain on the high grounds on which he 
placed them, till the enemy should approach : he placed fci.a 
main battle and his rear towards the right ; and beyond the 

* Holingshed, p. 985. 



A D to 47 j EDWARD VI. 337 

van lie posted Lord Grey at the head of the men at arms, and 
ordered him to take the Scottish van in flank, but not till they 
should be engaged in close fight with the van of the English. 

While the Scots were advancing on the plain, they were 
filled with the artillery from the English ships : the eldest 
eon of Lord Graham was killed : the Irish archers were thrown 
into disorder ; and even ihc other troops began to stagger : 
when Lord Grey, perceiving their situation, neglected his 
orders, left his ground, and at the head of his heavy-armed 
horse made an attack on tne Scottish infantry, in hopes of 
gaining all the honor ot tne victory. On advancing, he found 
a slough and ditch in his way ; and 1 behind were ranged the 
enemy armed with spears, and the field on which they stood 
was fallow ground, broken wiih ridges which lay across their 
front, and disordered the movements of the English cavalry. 
From all these accidents, the shock of this body of horse was 
feeble and irregular ; and as they were received on the points 
of the Scottish spears, which were longer than the lances of 
the English horsemen, they were in a moment pierced, over- 
thrown, and discomfited. Grey himself was dangerously 
wounded : Lord Edward Seymour, son of the protector, had 
his horse killed under him : the standard was near being 
taken : and had the Scots possessed any good body of cavalry 
who could have pursued the advantage, the whole Englisr 
army had been exposed to great danger.* 

The protector, meanwhile, assisted by Sir Ralph Sadlei and 
Sir Ralph Vane, employed himself with diligence and success 
in rallying the cavalry. Warwick showed great presence of 
mind in maintaining the ranks of the foot, on which the horse 
had recoiled : he made Sir Peter Meutas advance, captain 
of the foot harquebusiers, and Sir Peter Gamboa, captain of 
some Italian and Spanish harquebusiers on horseback ; and 
ordered them to ply the Scottish infantry with their shot. 
They marched to the slough, and discharged their pieces full 
in the face of the enemy : the ships galled them from the 
flank : the artillery, planted on a height, infested them from 
the front : the English archers poured in a shower of arrows 
upon them : and the vanguard, descending from the hill, 
advanced leisurely and in good order towards them. Dis- 
mayed with all these circumstances, the Scottish van began 
to retreat : the retreat soon changed into a flight, which wa» 



* Patten. Holingshed, o. 9S6. 
vol rn. — P 



338 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A D. 1547 

begun by the Irish archers. The panic of the van communi 
cated itself to the main body, and passing thence to the rear 
rendered the whole field a scene of confusion, terror, flight, 
and consternation. The English army perceived from the 
heights the condition of the Scots, and began the pursuit with 
loud shouts and acclamations, which added still more to the 
dismay of the vanquished. The horse in particular, eager tt 
revenge the affront which they had received in the beginning, 
of the day, did the most bloody execution on the flying enemy , 
and from the field of battle to Edinburgh, for the space of five 
miles, the whole ground was strewed with dead bodies. The 
priests, above all, and the monks, received no quarter; and 
the English made sport of slaughtering men who, from their ex 
treme zeal and animosity, had engaged in an enterrpise so if 
befitting their profession. Few victories have been mora 
decisive, or gamed with smaller loss to the conquerois. There 
fell not two hundred of the English ; and according to the 
most moderate computation, there perished above ten thousand 
of the Scots. About fifteen hundred were taken prisoners. 
This action was called the battle of Pinkey, from a noble- 
man's seat of that name in the neighborhood. 

The queen dowager and Arran fled to Stirling, and were 
scarcely able to collect such a body of forces as could check 
the incursions of small parties of the English. About the 
same time, the earl of Lenox and Lord Wharton entered the 
west marches, at the head of five thousand men ; and after 
taking and plundering Annan, they spread devastation, over 
all the neighboring counties.* Had Somerset prosecuted his 
advantages, he might have imposed what terms he pleased on 
the Scottish nation : but he was impatient to return to Eng 
land, where, he heard, some counsellors, and even his own 
brother, the admiral, were carrying on cabals against his 
authority. Having taken the castles of Hume, Dunglass, 
Eymouth, Fastcastle, ILoxborough, and some other small 
places, and having received the submission of some counties 
on the borders, he retired from Scotland. The fleet, besides 
destroying all the shipping along the coast, took Broughty, in 
the Frith of Tay ; and having fortified it, they there left a 
garrison. Arran desired leave to send commissioners in order 
to treat of a peace ; and Somerset, having appointed Berwick 
for the place of conference, left Warwick with full powers tti 



* Holinirshed, p. 992. 



A. D. 1547.] edward vi. 339 

negotiate : but no commissioners from Scotland ever appear 
ed. The overture of the Scots was an artifice, to gain time 
till succors should arrive from France. 

The protector, on his arrival in England, summoned a par- 
liament : and being somewhat elated with his success against 
the Scots, he procured from his nephew a patent, appointing 
him to sit on the throne, upon a stool or bench at the right 
hand of the king, and to enjoy the same honors and privileges 
that had usually been possessed by any prince of the blood, or 
uncle of the kings of England. In this patent the king em- 
ployed his dispensing power, by setting aside the statute of 
precedency enacted during the former reign.* But if Somer- 
set gave offence by assuming too much stite, he deserves 
great praise on account of the laws passed this session, by 
which the rigor of former statutes was much mitigated, and 
some security given to the freedom of the constitution. All 
laws were repealed which extended the crime of treason 
beyond the statute of the twenty-fifth of Edward III. ; t all 
laws enacted during the late reign extending the crime of 
felony ; all the former laws against Lollardy or heresy, together 
with the statute of the six articles. None were to be accused 
for words, but within a month after they were spoken. By 
these repeals several of the most rigorous laws that ever had 
passed in England were annulled; and some dawn, both of 
civil and religious liberty, began to appear to the people. 
Heresy, however, was still a capital crime by the common 
law, and was subjected to the penalty of burning. Only there 
remained no precise standard by which that crime could be 
defined or determined ; a circumstance which might either be 
advantageous or hurtful to public security, according to the 
disposition of the j ndges. 

A repeal also passed of that law, the destruction of all laws, 
by which the king's proclamation was made of equal force 
with a statute. % That other law, likewise, was mitigated, by 
which the king was empowered to annul every statute passed 
before the four-and-twentieth year of his age : he could pre- 
vent their future execution ; but could not recall any past effects 
which had ensued from them, § 

It was also enacted, that all who denied the king's suprem- 
acy, or asserted the pope's should, for the first offence, for- 
feit their goods and chattels, and suffer imprisonment during 

* Rvmer, vol. xv. p. 161. f 1 Edward VI. c. 12. 

t 1 Edward VI. e. 2. ' " U Edward VI c. 2 



340 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1548, 

pleasure ; fir the second offence, should incur the penalty ot 
a " praemunire ;" and for the third, be attainted of treason 
But it any, after the first of March ensuing, endeavored, by 
writing, printing, or any overt act or deed, to deprive the king 
of his estate or titles, particularly of his supremacy, or to 
confer them on any other, he was to be adjudged guilty of 
treason. If any of the heirs of the crown should usurp upon 
another, or endeavor to break the order of succession, it was 
declared treason in them, their aiders and abettors. These 
were the most considerable acts passed during this session. 
The members in general discovered a very passive disposition 
with regara to religion : some few appeared zealous for the 
reformation : others secretly harbored a strong propensity to 
the Catholic faith : but the greater part appeared willing to 
take any impression which they should receive from interest, 
authority, or the reigning fashion* 

The convocation met at the same time with the parliament ; 
and as it was found that their debates were at first cramped 
by the rigorous statute of the six articles, the king granted 
them a dispensation from that law, before it was repealed by 
parliament. t The lower house of convocation applied to have 
liberty of sitting with the commons in parliament ; or if this 
privilege were refused them, which they claimed as their 
ancient right, they desired that no law regarding religion might 
pass in parliament without their consent and approbation. Bu« 
the principles which now prevailed were more favorable to the 
civil than to the ecclesiastical power ; and this demand of the 
convocation was rejected. 

[1548.] The protector had assented to the repeal of that law 
which gave to the king's proclamations the authority of statutes , 
but he did not intend to renounce that arbitrary or discretionarj 
exercise of power, in issuing proclamations, which had evei 
been assumed by the crown, and which it is difficult to distin- 
guish exactly from a full legislative power. He even continued 
to exert this authority in some particulars, which were then 
regarded as the most momentous. Orders were issued by coun- 
cil, that candles should no longer be carried about on Candle- 
mas day, ashes on Ash Wednesday, palms on Palm Sunday.^ 
These were ancient religious practices, now termed supersti- 
tions ; though it is fortunate for mankind, when superstition 
happens to take a direction so innocent and inoffensive. The 

* Heylin, p. 48. t Ant. Brit. p. 339. 

t Burnet, vol. ii. p. 59. Collier, ?ol. ii. p. 241. Heylin, p. 55 



A.D. 1A48.J Edward vi 341 

severe disposition which naturally attends all reformers, prompt* 
ed likewise the council to abolish some gay and showy cere- 
monies which belonged to the ancient religion.* 

An order was also issued by council for the removal of all 
images from the churches ; an innovation which was much 
desired by t.ie reformers, and which alone, with regard to the 
populace, amounted almost to a total change of the establish- 
ed religion. t An attempt had been made to separate the use 
of images from their abuse, the reverence from the worship 
of them ; but the execution of this design was found, upon 
trial, very difficult, if not wholly impracticable. 

As private masses were abolished by law, it became neces- 
sary to compose a new communion service ; and the council 
went so far, in the preface which they prefixed to this work, 
as to leave the practice of auricular confession wholly indif- 
ferent. $ This was a prelude to the entire abolition of that 
invention, one of the most powerful engines that ever was con- 
trived for degrading the laity, and giving their spiritual guides 
an entire ascendant over them. And it may justly be said, 
that, though the priest's absolution, which attends confession, 
serves somewhat to ease weak minds from the immediate 
agonies of superstitious terror, it operates only by enforcing 
superstition itself, and thereby preparing the mind for a more 
violent relapse into the same disorders. 

The people were at that time extremely distracted by the 
opposite opinions of their preachers ; and as they were totally 
unable to judge of the reasons advanced on either side, and 
naturally regarded every thing which they heard at church as 
of equal authority, a great confusion and fluctuation resulted 
from this uncertainty. The council had first endeavored to 
remedy the inconvenience by laying some restraints on preach- 
ing ; but finding this expedient ineffectual, they imposed a 
total silence on the preachers, and thereby put an end at once 
to all the polemics of the pulpit. § By the nature of things, 
this restraint could only be temporary. For in proportion 
as the ceremonies of public worship, its shows and exterior 
observances, were retrenched by the reformers, the peopla 
were inclined to contract a stronger attachment to sermons, 
whence alone they received any occupation or amusement. 
The ancient religion, by giving its votaries something to do, 

* Burnet, vol. ii. 

t Burnet, vol. ii. p 60. Collier, vol. ii. p. 241. Heylin, p. 55. 

t Burnet, vol. ii. $ Fuller. Heylin. Burnet. 



S42 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1548 

freed them from the trouble of thinking : sermons were de- 
livered only in the principal churches, and at some particular 
fasts and festivals : and the practice of haranguing the popu- 
lace, which, if abused, is so powerful an incitement to faction 
and sedition, had much less scope and influence during those 
ages. 

The greater progress was made towards a reformation in 
England, the farther did the protector find himself from all 
prospect of completing the union with Scotland ; and the queen 
dowager, as well as the clergy, became the more averse to all 
alliance with a nation which had so far departed from all an- 
cient principles. Somerset, having taken the town of Had- 
dington, had ordered it to be strongly garrisoned and fortified 
by Lord Grey : he also erected some fortifications at Lauder , 
and he hoped that these two places, together with Broughty 
and some smaller fortresses which were in the hands of the 
English, would serve as a curb on Scotland, and would give 
him access into the heart of the country. 

Arran, being disappointed in some attempts on Broughty, 
relied chiefly on the succors expected from France for the 
recovery of these places ; and they arrived at last in the frith, 
to the number of six thousand men ; half of them Germans. 
They were commanded by Desse, and under him by AndeLot, 
Strozzi, Meilleraye, and Count Rhingrave. The Scots were 
at that time so sunk by their misfortunes, that five hundred 
English horse were able to ravage the whole countiy without 
resistance, and make inroads to the gates of the capital : * 
but on the appearance of the French succors, they collected 
more courage ; and having joined Desse with a considerable 
reenforcement, they laid siege to Haddington. t This was an 
undertaking for which they were by themselves totally unfit ; 
and even with the assistance of the French, they placed their 
chief hopes of success in starving the garrison. After some 
vain attempts to take the place by a regular siege, the block- 
ade was formed, and the garrison was repulsed with loss in 
several sallies which they made upon the besiegers. 

The hostile attempts which the late king and the protector 
had made against Scotland, not being steady, regular, nor 
pushed to the last extremity, had served only to irritate the 
oation, and to inspire them with the strongest aversion to that 

* Beague, Hist, of the Campaigns, 1548 and 1549, p. 6. 
+ Holingshed, p. 993. 



A..L». 1548. J EDWARF Vi. 343 

union which was courted in so violent a manner. Even 
those who were inclined to the English alliance, were dis- 
pleased to have it imposed on them by force of arms ; and 
the earl of Huntley in particular said pleasantly, that he dis- 
liked not the match, but he hated the manner of wooing.* 
The queen dowager, finding these sentiments to prevail, called 
a parliament in an abbey near Haddington ; and it was there 
proposed, that the young queen, for her greater security, should 
be sent to France, and be committed to the custody of that 
ancient ally. Some objected, that this measure was desperate, 
allowed no resource in case of miscarriage, exposed the Scots 
to be subjected by foreigners, involved them in perpetual war 
with England, and left them no expedient by which they 
could conciliate the friendship of that powerful nation. It 
was answered, on the other hand, that the queen's presence 
was the very cause of war with England ; that that nation 
would desist when they found that their views of forcing a 
marriage had become altogether impracticable ; and that 
Henry, being engaged by so high a mark of confidence, would 
take their sovereign under his protection, and use his utmost 
efforts to defend the kingdom. These arguments were aided 
by French gold, which was plentifully distributed among the 
nobles. The governor had a pension conferred on him of 
twelve thousand livres a year, received the title of duke of 
Chatelrault, and obtained for his son the command of a hundred 
men at arms.t And as the clergy dreaded the consequences 
of the English alliance, they seconded this measure with all 
the zeal and industry which either principle or interest could 
inspire. It was accordingly determined to send the queen 
to France ; and, what was understood to be the necessary 
consequence, to marry her to the dauphin. Villegaignon, 
commander of four French galleys lying in the Frith of 
Forth, set sail as if he intended to return home ; but when 
he reached the open sea, he turned northwards, passed by tho 
Orkneys, and came in on the west coast at Dunbarton ; an 
extraordinary voyage for ships of that fabric. 4: The young 
queen was there committed to him ; and being attended by 
the lords Ereskine and Livingstone, she put to sea, and after 



* Heylin, p. 4G. Patten. 

] Burnet, vol. ii. p. 83. Buchanan, lib. xv. Keith, p. 55. Thuar.ua 
ib. v. c. 15. 

1 Tbuanus, lib. v. e. lb. 



344 HISTORY OV ENGLAND. [A. P. 1548 

meeting with some tempestuous weather, arrived safely al 
Brest, whence she was conducted to Paris, and soon after she 
was betrothed to the dauphin. 

Somerset, pressed by many difficulties at home, and de- 
spairing of success in his enterprise against Scotland, was 
desirous of composing the differences with that kingdom, and 
he offered the Scots a ten years' truce ; but as they insisted on 
his restoring all the places which he had taken, the proposal 
came to nothing. The Scots recovered the fortresses of Hume 
and Fastcastle by surprise, and put the garrisons to the sword ; 
they repulsed with loss the English, who, under the command 
of Lord Seymour, made a descent, first in Fife, then at Mont- 
rose : in the former action, James Stuart, natural brother to 
the queen, acquired honor; in the latter, Ereskine of Dun. 
An attempt was made by Sir Robert Bowes and Sir Thomas 
Palmer, at the head of a considerable body, to throw relief 
into Haddington ; but these troops, falling into an ambuscade, 
were almost wholly cut in pieces* And though a small 
body of two hundred men escaped all the vigilanoe of the 
French, and arrived safely in Haddington with some am- 
munition and provisions, the garrison was reduced to such 
difficulties, that the protector found it necessary to provide 
more effectually for their relief. He raised an army of eigh- 
teen thousand men, and adding three thousand Germans, who, 
on the dissolution of the Protestant alliance, had offered their 
service to England, he gave the command of the whole to 
the earl of Shrewsbury.! Desse raised the blockaue on the 
approach of the English ; and with great difficulty made 
good his retreat to Edinburgh, where he posted himself ad- 
vantageously. Shrewsbury, who had lost the opportunity of 
attacking him on his march, durst not give him battle in his 
present situation ; and contenting himself with the advantago 
already gained of supplying Haddington, he retired into Eng- 
land. 

Though the protection of France was of great consequence 
to the Scots in supporting them against the invasions of 
England, they reaped still more benefit from the distractions 
and divisions which had crept into the councils of this lattei 
iingdom. Even the two brothers, the protector and admiral, 
not content with the high stations which they severally enjoyed, 
and the great eminence to which they had risen, had enter 

* Stowe, p. 595. Holingshed, p. 994. t Hayward, p. 291. 



A. I). 1548.] EDWARD VI. 34fl 

tained the most violent jealousy of each other ; and they 
divided the whole court and kingdom by their opposite cabala 
and pretensions. Lord Seymour was a man of insatiable am- 
bition ; arrogant, assuming, implacable ; and though esteem- 
ed of superior capacity to the protector, he possessed not 
to the same degree the confidence and regard of the people. 
By his flattery and address, he had so insinuated himself 
into the good graces of the queen dowager, that, forgetting 
her usual prudence and decency, she married him imme- 
diately upon the demise of the late king; insomuch that, Irad 
she soon proved pregnant, it might have been doubtful to 
which husband the child belonged. The credit and riches of 
this alliance supported the ambition of the admiral, but gave 
umbrage to the duchess of SomeYset, who, uneasy that the 
younger brother's wife should have the precedency, employ- 
ed all her credit with her husband, which was too great, 
first to create, then to widen the breach between the tw) 
brothers.* 

The first symptoms of this misunderstanding appeared 
when the protector commanded the army in Scotland. Sec- 
retary Paget, a man devoted to Somerset, remarked that 
Seymour was forming separate intrigues among the counsel- 
lors ; w*as corrupting by presents the king's servants ; and 
even endeavoring, by improper indulgences and liberalities, tc 
captivate the affections of the young monarch. Paget rep- 
resented to him the danger of his conduct ; desired him to 
reflect on the numerous enemies whom the sudden elevation 
of their family had created ; and warned him, that any dis- 
sension between him and the protector would be greedily laid 
hold of to effect the ruin of both. Finding his remonstrances 
neglected, he conveyed intelligence of the danger to Somer 
set, and engaged him to leave the enterprise upon Scotland 
unfinished, in order to guard against the attempts of his 
domestic enemies. In the ensuing parliament, the admiral's 
projects appeared still more dangerous to public tranquillity : 
and as he had acquired many partisans, he made a direct 
attack upon his brother's authority. He represented to his 
friends, that formerly, during a minority, the office of protector 
nf the kingdom had been kept separate from that of governor 
of the king's person ; and that the Dresent union of these two 

* Hayward, p. 301. Heylin p. 72. Camden. Thuanus, lib v » •• 
Haynes. p. C9 

p* 



.346 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. (A. D. 1548 

important trusts conferred on Somerset an authority which 
could not safely be lodged in any subject.* The young king 
was even prevailed on to write a letter to the parliament, 
desiring that Seymour might be appointed his governor ; and 
that nobleman had formed a party in the two houses, by which 
he hoped to eflect his purpose. The design was discovered 
before its execution ; and some common friends were sent to 
remonstrate with him, but had so little influence, that he threw 
out many menacing expressions, and rashly threatened that, 
if he were thwarted in his attempt, he would make this par- 
liament the blackest that ever sat in England.! The council 
&ent for him to answer for his conduct ; but he refused to 
attend : they then began to threaten in their turn, and informed 
him that the king's letter, instead of availing him any thing 
to the execution of his views, would be imputed to him as a 
criminal enterprise, and be construed as a design to disturb 
the government, by forming a separate interest with a child 
and minor. They even let fall some menaces of sending 
him to the Tower for his temerity ; and the admiral, finding 
himself prevented in his design, was obliged to submit, and to 
desire a reconciliation with his brother. 

The mild and moderate temper of Somerset made him 
willing to forget these enterprises of the admiral; but the am- 
bition of that turbulent spirit could not be so easily appeased. 
His spouse, the queen dowager, died in childbed ; but so far 
from regarding this event as a check to his aspiring views, 
he founded on it the scheme of a more extraordinary eleva- 
tion. He made his addresses to the lady Elizabeth, then in 
the sixteenth year of her age ; and that princess, whom even 
the hurry of business and the pursuits of ambition could not, 
in her more advanced years, disengage entirely from the 
tender passions, seems to have listened to the insinuations of a 
man who possessed every talent proper to captivate the affec- 
tions of the fair. $ But as Henry VIII. had excluded his 
daughters from all hopes of succession if they married with- 
out the consent of his executors, which Seymour could never 
hope to obtain, it was concluded that he meant to effect his 
purpose by expedients still more rash and more criminal. All 
the other measures of the admiral tended to confirm this sus- 
picion. He continued to attack, by presents, the fidelity of 



* Haynes, p. 82, 90. t Hayncs, p. 75 

t Haynes, p. 95, 96, 102. 108. 



AD. 154b" j edward vi. 347 

those who had more immediate access to the king's person 
he endeavored to seduce the young prince into his interest . 
he found means of holding a private correspondence with him : 
he openly decried his brother's administration ; and asserted 
that, by enlisting Germans and other foreigners, he intended 
to form a mercenary army, which might endanger the king's 
authority, and the liberty of the people : by promises and per« 
Buasion he brought over to his party many of the principal 
nobility: and had extended his interest all over England : he 
neglected not even the most popular p?rsons of inferior rank ; 
and had computed that he could, on occasion, muster an army 
of ten thousand men, composed of his servants, tenants, and 
retainers : * he had already provided arms for their use ; and 
having engaged in his interests Sir John Sharington, a corrupt 
man, master of the mint at Bristol, he flattered himself that 
money would not be wanting. Somerset Avas well apprised 
of all these alarming circumstances, and endeavored, by the 
most friendly expedients, by entreaty, reason, and even by 
heaping new favors upon the admiral, to make him desist 
from his dangerous counsels : but finding all endeavors in- 
effectual, he began to think of more severe remedies. The 
earl of Warwick was an ill instrument between the brothers ; 
and had formed the design, by inflaming the quarrel, to raise 
his own fortune on the ruins of both. 

Dudley, earl of Warwick, was the son of that Dudley, 
minister to Henry VII., who, having, by rapine, extortion, and 
perversion of law, incurred the hatred of the public, had been 
sacrificed to popular animosity in the beginning of the subse- 
quent reign. The late king, sensible of the iniquity, at least 
illegality, of the sentence, had afterwards restored young 
Dudley's blood by act of parliament ; and finding him en- 
dowed with abilities, industry, and activity, he had intrusted 
him with many important commands, and had ever found him 
successful in his undertakings. He raised hirn to the dignity 
of Viscount Lisle, conferred on him the office of admiral, and 
gave him by his wdl a place among his executors. Dudley 
made still further progress during the minority; and having 
obtained the title of earl of Warwick, and undermined the 
predit of Southampton, he bore the chief rank among the 
protector's counsellors. The victory gained at Pinkey was 
much ascribed to his courage and conduct ; and he was uni- 

* Haynes. p- 105, 106. 



348 HISTORY DF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1548 

versally regarded as a man equally endowed with the talenta 
of peace and of war. But all these virtues were obscured 
by still greater vices ; an exorbitant ambition, an insatiable 
avarice, a neglect of decency, a contempt of justice : and as 
he found that Lord Seymour, whose abilities and enterpris- 
ing spirit he chiefly dreaded, was involving himself in ruin by 
his rash counsels, he was determined to push him on the 
precipice, and thereby remove the chief obstacle to his own 
projected greatness. 

When Somerset found that the public peace was endangered 
by his brother's seditious, not to say rebellious schemes, he 
was the more easily persuaded by Warwick to employ the 
extent of royal authority against him ; and after depriving him 
of the office of admiral, he signed a warrant for committing 
him to the Tower. Some of his accomplices were also taken 
into custody ; and three privy counsellors being sent to 
examine them, made a report, that they had met with very 
full and important discoveries. Yet still the protector sus 
pended the blow, and showed a reluctance to ruin his brother. 
He offered to desist from the prosecution, if Seymour would 
promise him a cordial reconciliation, and, renouncing all am- 
bitious hopes, be contented with a private life, and retire into 
the country. But as Seymour made no other answer to these 
friendly offers than menaces and defiances, he ordered a 
charge to be drawn up against him, consisting of thirty-three 
articles ; * and the whole to be laid before the privy council. 
It is pretended, that every particular was so incontestably 
proved, both by witnesses and his own handwriting, that there 
was no room for doubt ; yet did the council think proper to go 
in a body to the Tower, in order more fully to examine the 
prisoner. He was not daunted by the appearance : he boldly 
demanded a fair trial ; required to be confronted with the 
witnesses ; desired that the charge might be left with him, in 
order to be considered ; and refused to answer any interroga- 
tories by which he might accuse himself. 

It is apparent that, notwithstanding what is pretended, there 
must have been some deficiency in the evidence against Sey- 
mour, when such demands, founded on the plainest principles 
of law and equity, were absolutely rejected. We shall indeed 
conclude, if we carefully examine the charge, that many of 
the articles were general, and scarcely capable of any proof, 



* Burnet, vol. ii. coll. 31. 2 and 3 Edward VI. c. 38 



A. D. 1549.] EDWARD VI. 349 

many of them, if true, susceptible of a more favorable inter- 
pretation ; and that though, on the whole, Seymour appears 
to have been a dangerous subject, he had not advanced far iti 
those treasonable projects imputed to him. The chief part of 
his actual guilt seems to have consisted in some unwarrantable 
practices in the admiralty, by which pirates were protected, 
and illegal impositions laid upon the merchants. 

But the administration had at that time an easy instrument 
of vengeance, to wit, the parliament ; and needed not to give 
themselves any concern with regard either to the guilt of tfu 
persons whom they prosecuted, or the evidence which couk 
be produced against them. A session of parliament being 
held, it was resolved to proceed against Seymour by bill of 
attainder ; and the young king being induced, after much 
solicitation, to give his consent to it, a considerable weight 
was put on his approbation. The matter was first laid before 
the upper house ; and several peers, rising up in their places, 
gave an account of what they knew concerning Lord Sey- 
mour's conduct, and his criminal words or actions. [1549.] 
These nai-ratives were received as undoubted evidence ; and 
though the prisoner had formerly engaged many friends and 
partisans among the nobility, no one had either the courage 
or equity to move, that he might be heard in his defence, that 
the testimony against him should be delivered in a legal man- 
ner, and that he should be confronted with the witnesses. A 
little more scruple was made in the house of commons : there 
were even some members who objected against the whole 
method of proceeding by bill of attainder passed in absence ; 
and insisted, that a formal trial should be given to every man 
before his condemnation. But when a message was sent by 
the king, enjoining the house to proceed, and offering that the 
same narratives should be laid before them which had satis- 
fied the peers, they were easily prevailed on to acquiesce.* 
The bill passed in a full house. Near four hundred voted for 
it ; not above nine or ten against it.t The sentence was soon 
after executed, and the prisoner was beheaded on Tower Hill. 
The warrant was signed by Somerset, who was exposed tc 
much blame, on account of the violence of these proceedings. 
The attempts of the admiral seem chiefly to have been levelled 
against his brother's usurped authority ; and though his am- 
bitious, enterprising character, encouraged by a marriage with 

* 2 and 3 Edward VI. c. IS. t Burnet, vol ii. p. 99 



3D0 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1549 

the lady Elizabc-li, might have endangered the public traiv 
quillity, the prudence of foreseeing evils at such a distance 
was deemed too great, and the remedy was plainly illegal. 
It could only be said, that this bill of attainder was somewhat 
rore tolerable than the preceding ones, to which the nation 
had been inured ; for here, at least, some shadow of evidence 
was produced. 

All the considerable business transacted this session besides 
the attainder of Lord Seymour, regarded ecclesiastical affairs, 
which were now the chief object of attention throughout the 
natbn. A committee of bishops and divines had been ap- 
pointed by the council to compose a liturgy ; and they had 
executed the work committed to them. They proceeded with 
moderation in this delicate undertaking ; they retained as 
imuch of the ancient mass as the principles of the reformers 
«'ould permit : they indulged nothing to the spirit of contra- 
diction, which so naturally takes place in all great innovations : 
and they flattered themselves, that they had established a ser 
vice in which every denomination of Christians might with 
out scruple Concur. The mass had always been celebrated in 
Latin ; a practice which might have been deemed absurd, 
had it not been found useful to the clergy, by impressing the 
people with an idea of some mysterious unknown virtue in 
'.hose rites, and by checking all their pretensions to be famil- 
j.rly acquainted with their religion. But as the reformers 
- retended in some lew particulars to encourage private judg- 
ment in the laity, the translation of the liturgy, as well as of 
the Scriptures, into the vulgar tongue, seemed more conform* 
able to the genius of their sect ; and this innovation, with the 
retrenching of prayers to saints, and of some superstitious cere- 
monies, was the chief difference between the old mass and the 
new liturgy. The parliament established this form of worship 
in all the churches, and ordained a uniformity to be observed 
in all the rites and ceremonies.* 

There was another material act which passed this session 
The former canons had established the celibacy of the clergy 
and though this practice is usually ascribed to the policy of 
the court of Rome, who thought that the ecclesiastics would 
be more devoted to their spiritual head, and less dependent 
on the civil magistrate, when freed from the powerful tie of 
wives and children, yet was this institution much forwarded 



*■■ 2 and 3 Edward VI. c \. 



A.D. 1549.J EDWARD VI. 6&i 

by the principles of superstition inherent in human nature. 
These principles had rendered the panegyrics on an inviolate 
chastity so frequent among the ancient fathers, long before 
the establishment of celibacy. And even this parliament, 
though they enacted a law permitting the marriage of priests, 
yet confess in the preamble, " that it were better for priests 
and the ministers of the church to live chaste and without 
marriage, and it were much to be wished they would of them 
selves abstain." The inconveniences which had arisen from 
the compelling of chastity and the prohibiting of marriage, 
are the reasons assigned for indulging a liberty in this particu- 
lar.* The ideas of penance also were so much retained in 
other particulars, that an act of parliament passed, forbid 
ding the use of flesh meat during Lent and other times of 
abstinence. t 

The principal tenets and practices of the Catholic religion 
were now abolished, and the reformation, such as it is enjoyed 
at present, was almost entirely completed in England. But 
the doctrine of the real presence, though tacitly condemned 
by the new communion service, and by the abolition of many 
ancient rites, still retained some hold on the minds of men ; 
and it was the last doctrine of Popery that was wholly aban- 
doned by the people, t The great attachment of the late king 
to that tenet might, in part, be the ground of this obstinacy . 
but the chief cause was really the extreme absurdity of the 
principle itself, and the profound veneration, which, of course, 
it impressed on the imagination. The priests, likewise, were 
much inclined to favor an opinion which attributed to them so 
miraculous a power ; and the people, who believed that they 
participated of the very body and blood of their Savior, were 
loath to renounce so extraordinary, and, as they imagined, so 
salutary a privilege. The general attachment to this dogma 
was so violent, that the Lutherans, notwithstanding their sep- 
aration from Rome, had thought proper, under another name, 
still to retain it ; and the Catholic preachers in England, when 
restrained in all other particulars, could not forbear, on every 
occasion, inculcating that tenet. Bonner, for this offence, 
among others, had been tried by the council, had been de- 
prived of his see, and had been committed to custody. 6 ar- 
uiner, also, who had recovered his liberty, appeared anew 

* 2 and 3 Edward VI. cap. 21. 

t 2 and 3 Edward VI. cap. 19. See note T, at the end of thf 
wdiimo- t Burnet, vol. ii. p, 104 



352 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [ A. 1). 1549 

refractory to the authority which established the late innova* 
tions : and he seemed willing to countenance that opinion, 
much favored hy all the English Catholics, that the king was 
indeed supreme head of the church, but not the council during 
a minority. Having declined to give full satisfaction on this 
head, he was sent to the Tower, and threatened with further 
effects of the council's displeasure. 

These severities, being exercised on men possessed of office 
nd authority, seemed in that age a necessary policy, in order 
to enforce a uniformity in public worship and discipline ; but 
there were other instances of persecution, derived from no 
origin but the bigotry of theologians ; a malady which seems 
almost incurable. Though the Protestant divines had ven- 
tured to renounce opinions deemed certain during many ages, 
they regarded, in their turn, the new system as so certain, 
that they would suffer no contradiction with regard to it ; and 
they were ready to burn in the same flames from which they 
themselves had so narrowly escaped, every one that had the 
assurance to differ from them. A commission, by act of 
council, was granted to the primate and some others, to 
examine and search after all Anabaptists, heretics, or contem- 
ners of the Book of Common Prayer. The commissioners 
were enjoined to reclaim them, if possible; to impose penance 
on them, and to give them absolution ; or, if these criminals 
were obstinate, to excommunicate and imprison them, and to 
deliver them over to the secular arm : and in the execution of 
this charge, they were not bound to observe the ordinary 
methods of trial ; the forms of law Avere dispensed with ; and 
if any statutes happened to interfere with the powers in the 
commission, they were overruled and abrogated by the coun- 
cil. Some tradesmen in London were brought before these 
commissioners, and were accused of maintaining, among other 
opinions, that a man regenerate could not sin, aud that, though 
the outward man might offend, the inward was incapable of 
all guilt. They were prevailed on to abjure, and were dis- 
missed. But there was a woman accused of heretical pravity, 
called Joan Bocher, or Joan of Kent, who was so pertinacious, 
that the commissioners could make no impression upon her. 
Her doctrine was, " that Christ was not truly incarnate of the 
Viigin, whose flesh, being the outward man, was sinfully 
begotten, and born in sin, and, consequently, he could take 

* Burnet, vol. ii. p. 3. Rymcr, torn. xv. p. 181. 



A.D.I 5 19 edwari vi. 353 

none of it ; but the Word, by the consent of the inward man 
of the Virgin, was made flesh."* This opinion, it would 
seem, is not orthodox ; and there was a necessity for deliver- 
ing the woman to the flames for maintaining it. But the 
young king, though in such tender years, had more sense than 
all his counsellors and preceptors ; and he long refused to 
sign the warrant for her execution. Cranmer was employed 
to persuade him to compliance ; and he said, that there was 
a great difference between errors in other points of divinity, 
and those which were in direct contradiction to the apostles' 
creed : these latter were impieties against God, which the 
prince, being God's deputy, ought to repress, in like manner, 
as inferior magistrates were bound to punish offences against 
the king's person. Edward, overcome by importunity, at last 
submitted, though with tears in his eyes ; and he told Cran- 
mer, that if any wrong were done, the guilt should lie entirely 
on his head. The primate, after making a new effort to 
reclaim the woman from her errors, and finding her obstinate 
against all his arguments, at last committed her to the flames. 
Some time after, a Dutchman, called Van Paris, accused of 
the heresy which has received the name of Arianism, was 
condemned to the same punishment. He suffered with so 
much satisfaction, that he hugged and caressed the fagots that 
were consuming him ; a species of frenzy of which there is 
more than one instance among the martyrs of that age.t 

These rigorous methods of proceeding soon brought the 
whole nation to a conformity, seeming o» real, with the new 
doctrine and the new liturgy. The lad) Mary alone contin- 
ued to adhere to the mass, and refused to admit the estab- 
lished modes of worship. When pressed and menaced on this 
head, she applied to the emperor, who, using his interest with 
Sir Philip Hobby, the English ambassador, procured her i 
temporary connivance from the council.! 



* Burnet, vol. ii. coll. 35. Strype's Mem. Crania p. 181. 
t Burnet, vol. ii. p. 112 Strype's Mera. Cranm. \ 181. 
i Heyliu, p 102. 



354 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. f A.D. ] 5 19 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

EDWARD VI. 

[1649.] There is no abuse so great in civil society, as not 
to be attended with a variety of beneficial consequences ; and 
in the beginnings of reformation, the loss of these advantages 
is always felt very sensibly, while the benefit resulting from 
the change is the slow effect of time, and is seldom perceived 
by the bulk of a nation. Scarce any institution can be ima- 
gined less favorable, in the main, to the interests of mankind 
than that of monks and friars ; yet was it followed by many 
good effects, which, having ceased by the suppression of mon- 
asteries, were much regretted by the people of England. The 
monks, always residing in their convents, in the center of 
their estates, spent their money in the provinces and among 
their tenants, afforded a ready market for commodities, were 
a sure resource to the poor and indigent ; and though their 
hospitality and charity gave but too much encouragement to 
idleness, and prevented the increase of public riches, yet did 
it provide to many a relief from the extreme pressures of want 
and necessity. It is also observable, that as the friars were 
limited by the rules of their institution to a certain mode of liv- 
ing, they had not equal motives for extortion with other men ; 
and they were acknowledged to have been in England, as they 
still are in Roman Catholic countries, the best and most indul- 
gent landlords. The abbots and priors were permitted to give 
leases at an under-value, and to receive in return a large 
present from the tenant, in the same manner as is still prac- 
tised by the bishops and colleges. But when the abbey lands 
were distributed among the principal nobility and courtiers, they 
fell under a different management : the rents of farms wor<! 
raised, while the tenants found not the same facility in dispos. 
ing of the produce ; the money was often spent in the capi- 
tal, and the farmers, living at a distance, were exposed to 
oppression from their nnw masters, or to the still greatej 
rapacity of the stewards. 



A. D. 1549.] F.mvARD vi. 355 

These grievances of the common people were at that time 
heightened by other causes The arts of manufacture were 
much move advanced in other European countries than in 
England ; and even in England these arts had made greater 
progress than the knowledge of agriculture ; a profession which, 
of all mechanical employments, requires the most reflection 
and experience. A great demand arose for wool both abroad 
and at home : pasturage was found more profitable than un- 
skilful tillage : whole estates were laid waste by enclosures : 
the tenants, regarded as a useless burden, were expelled their 
habitations ; even the cottagers, deprived of the commons on 
which they formerly fed their cattle, were reduced to misery ; 
and a decay of people, as well as a diminution of the former 
plenty, was remarked in the kingdom.* This grievance was 
now of an old date, and Sir Thomas More, alluding to it, 
observes in his Utopia, that a sheep had become in England a 
more ravenous animal than a lion or wolf, and devoured whole 
villages, cities, and provinces. 

The general increase, also, of gold and silver in Europe, 
after the discovery of the West Indies, had a tendency to 
inflame these complaints. The growing demand in the more 
commercial countries had heightened every where the price 
of commodities, which could easily be transported thither ; but 
in England, the labor of men, who could not so easily change 
their habitation, still remained nearly at the ancient rates, 
and the poor complained that they could no longer gain a 
subsistence by their industry. It was by an addition alone 
of toil and application they were enabled to procure a main- 
tenance ; and though this increase of industry was at last the 
effect of the present situation, and an effect beneficial to 
society, yet was it difficult for the people to shake off their 
former habits of indolence ; and nothing but necessity could 
compel them to such an exertion of their faculties. 

It must also be remarked, that the profusion of Henry 
VIII. had reduced him, notwithstanding his rapacity, to such 
difficulties, that he had been obliged to remedy a present 
necessity by the pernicious expedient of debasing the coin ; 
and the wars in which the protector had been involved, had 
induced him to carry still further the same abuse. The usual 
consequences ensued : the good specie was hoarded or ex- 
ported ; base metal was coined at home, or imported from 

* Strype, vol. ii Repository, Q- 



350 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1549 

abroad in great abundance ; the common people, who received 
their wages in it, could not purchase commodities at the 
usual rates ; a universal diffidence and stagnation of commerce 
took place ; and loud complaints were heard in every part of 
England. 

The protector, who loved popularity, and pitied the con 
dition of the people, encouraged these complaints by his en 
deavors to redress them. He appointed a commission foi 
making inquiry concerning enclosures ; and issued a proclani- 
ation, ordering all late enclosures to be laid open by a day 
appointed. The populace, meeting with such countenance 
from government, began to rise in several places, and to com- 
mit disorders ; but were quieted by remonstrances and per- 
suasion. In order to give them greater satisfaction, Somerset 
appointed new commissioners, whom he sent every where, 
with an unlimited power to hear and determine all causes 
about enclosures, highways, and cottages.* As this commis- 
sion was disagreeable to the gentry and nobility, they stig- 
matized it as arbitrary and illegal ; and the common people, 
fearing it would be eluded, and being impatient for immediate 
redress, could no longer contain their fury, but sought for a 
remedy by force of arms. The rising began at once in sev- 
eral parts of England, as if a universal conspiracy had been 
formed by the commonalty. The rebels in Wiltshire were 
dispersed by Sir William Herbert : those in the neighboring 
counties, Oxford and Glocester, by Lord Gray, of Wilton. 
Many of the rioters were killed in the field : others were exe- 
cuted by martial law. The commotions in Hampshire, Sussex, 
Kent, and other counties, were quieted by gentler expedients ; 
but the disorders in Devonshire and Norfolk threatened more 
dangerous consequences. 

The commonalty in Devonshire began with the usual com- 
plaints against enclosares and against oppressions from the 
gentry ; but the parish priest of Sampford Courtenay had the 
address to give their discontent a direction towards religion ; 
and the delicacy of the subject, in the present emergency, 
made the insurrection immediately appear formidable. In 
other counties, the gentry had kept closely united with gov- 
ernment ; but here many of them took part with the populace ; 
among others, Humphrey Arundel, governor of St. Michael's 
Mount. The rioters were brought into the form of a regula? 

*■ Burnet, vol. ii. p. 115. Strype, vol. ii. p. 171. 



A. D. 1549. J edwaud vi. 357 

army, which amounted to the number of ten thousand. Lord 
Russel had been sent against them at the head of a small 
force; but finding himself too weak to encounter them in the 
field, he kept at a distance, and began to negotiate with them ; 
in hopes of eluding their fury by delay, and of dispersing them 
by the difficulty of their subsisting in a body. Their demands 
were, that the mass should be restored, half of the abbey 
lands resumed, the law of the six articles executed, holy water 
and holy bread respected, and all other particular grievances 
redressed.* The council, to whom Russel transmitted these 
demands, sent a haughty answer ; commanded the rebels to 
disperse, and promised them pardon upon their immediate 
submission. Enraged at this disappointment, they marched 
to Exeter, carrying before them crosses, banners, holy water, 
candlesticks, and other implements of ancient superstition ; 
together with the host, which they covered with a canopy.') 
The citizens of Exeter shut their gates ; and the rebels, as 
they had no cannon, endeavored to take the place, first by 
scalade, then by mining ; but were repulsed in every attempt 
Russel meanwhile lay at Honiton, till reenforced by Sir Will- 
iam Herbert and Lord Gray with some German horse, and 
some Italian arquebusiers under Battista Spinola. He then 
resolved to attempt the relief of Exeter, which was now re- 
duced to extremities. He attacked the rebels, drove them 
from all their posts, did great execution upon them, both in the 
action and pursuit, % and took many prisoners. Arundel and 
the other leaders were sent to London, tried, and executed. 
Many of the inferior sort were put to death by martial law : k 
the vicar of St. Thomas, one of the principal incendiaries, was 
banged on the top of his own steeple, arrayed in his Popish 
tveeds, with his beads at his girdle. || 

The insurrection in Norfolk rose to a still greater height, 
and was attended with greater acts of violence. The popu- 
lace were at first excited, as in other places, by complaints 
against enclosures ; but finding their numbers amount to 
twenty thousand, they grew insolent, and proceeded to more 
exorbitant pretensions. They required the suppression of the 

* Hayward, p. 292. Holingshed, p. 1003. Fox, vol. ». p 666 
Mem. Cranm. p. 186. 
t Heylin, p. 76. 

t Stowe's Annals, p. 597. Hayward, p. 295. 
\ Hayward, p. 295, 296. 
% Heylin, y- 76. Holingshed, p. 1026. 



358 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1549 

gentry, the placing of new counsellors about the king, and the 
reestablishment of the ancient rites. One Ket, a tanner, had 
assumed the government over them ; and he exercised his 
authority with the utmost arrogance and outrage. Having 
taken possession of Moushold Hill near Norwich, he erected 
his tribunal under an old oak, thence called the oak of refor- 
mation ; and summoning the gentry to appear before him, he 
gave such decrees as might be expected from his character 
and situation. The mai-quis of Northampton was first ordered 
against him ; but met with a repulse in an action, where Lord 
Sheffield was killed.* The protector affected popularity, and 
cared not to appear in person against the rebels ; he therefore 
sent the earl of Warwick at the head of six thousand men, 
levied for the wars against Scotland ; and he thereby afforded 
his mortal enemy an opportunity of increasing his reputation 
and character. Warwick, having tried some skirmishes with 
the rebels, at last made a general attack upon them, and put 
them to flight. Two thousand fell in the action and pursuit : 
Ket was hanged at Norwich castle, nine of his followers on tho 
boughs of the oak of reformation ; and the insurrection was 
entirely suppressed. Some rebels in Yorkshire, learning the 
fate of their companions, accepted the offers of pardon, and 
threw down their arms. A general indemnity was soon after 
published by the protector, t 

But though the insurrections were thus quickly subdued 
in England, and no traces of them seemed to remain, they 
were attended with bad consequences to the foreign interests 
of the nation. The forces of the earl of Warwick, which 
might have made a great impression on Scotland, were 
diverted from that enterprise ; and the French general had 
leisure to reduce that country to some settlement and com- 
posure. He took the fortress of Broughty, and put the garri- 
son to the sword. He straitened the English at Haddington ; 
and though Lord Dacres was enabled to throw relief into the 
place, and to reenforce the garrison, it was found at last very 
chargeable, and even impracticable, to keep possession of thai 
fortress. The whole country in the neighborhood was laid 
waste by the inroads both of the Scots and English, and could 
afford no supply to the garrison : the place lay above thirty 
miles from the borders ; so that a regular army was necessary 

* Stowe, p. 597. Holingshed, p. 1030-34. Strype, vol. ii. p. ] 74 

t Haywaid, p 297, 29S, 299. 



A .0. 1549.] edward vi 359 

10 escort any provisions thither : and as the plague had broken 
out among the troops, they perished daily, and were reduced 
to a state of great weakness. For these reasons, orders wera 
given to dismantle Haddington, and to convey the artillery and 
garrison to Berwick ; and the earl of Rutland, now created 
warden of the east marches, executed the orders. 

The king of France also took advantage of the distractions 
among the English, and made an attempt to recover Boulogne, 
and that territory which Henry VIII. had conquered from 
France. On other pretences, he assembled an army, and, 
falling suddenly upon the Boulonnois, took the castles of Sel- 
laque, Blackness, and Ambleteuse, though well supplied with 
garrisons, ammunition, and provisions.* He endeavored to 
surprise Boulenberg, and was repulsed ; but the garrison, not 
thinking the place tenable after the loss of the other fortresses, 
destroyed the works, and retired to Boulogne. The rains, 
which fell in great abundance during the autumn, and a pesti- 
lential distemper which broke out in the French camp, deprived 
Henry of all hopes of success against Boulogne itself; and ho 
retired to Paris. t He left the command of the army to Gas- 
par de Coligny, lord of Chatillon, so famous afterwards by the 
name of Admiral Coligny ; and he gave him orders to form 
the siege early in the spring. The active disposition of this 
general engaged him to make, during the winter, several 
attempts against the place ; but they all proved unsuccessful. 

Strozzi, who commanded the French fleet and galleys, 
endeavored to make a descent on Jersey ; but meeting there 
with an English fleet, he commenced an action, which seems 
not to have been decisive, since the historians of the two 
nations differ in their account of the event. | 

As soon as the French war broke out, the protector endeav- 
ored to fortify himself with the alliance of the emperor ; and 
he sent over Secretary Paget to Brussels, where Charles then 
kept court, in order to assist Sir Philip Hobby, the resident 
ambassador, in this negotiation. But that prince had formed 
a design of extending his dominions by acting the part of 
champion for the Catholic religion ; and though extremely 
desirous of accepting the English alliance against France, his 
capital enemy, he thought it unsuitable to his other pretensions 
to enter into strict confederacy with a nation which had broken 



* Thuanus, lib. vi. c. 6. t Hayward, p 300. 

t Thuan. King Edward's Journal Slowe. p. 597. 



SCO HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 154£ 

oft' all connections with the church of Rome. He therefor* 
declined the advances of friendship from England, and eluded 
the applications of the ambassadors. An exact account is 
preserved of this negotiation in a letter of Hobby's ; and it is 
remarkable, that the emperor, in a conversation with the 
English ministers, asserted, tbat the prerogatives of a king o! 
England were more extensive than those of a king of France.* 
Burnet, who preserves this letter, subjoins, as a parallel in- 
stance, that one objection which the Scots made to marrying 
their queen with Edward was, that all their privileges would 
be swallowed up by the great prerogative of the kings of Eng- 
land.! 

Somerset, despairing of assistance from the emperor, was 
inclined to conclude a peace with France and Scotland ; and 
besides that he was not in a condition to maintain such ruin- 
ous wars, he thought that there no longer remained any object 
of hostility. The Scots had sent away their queen ; and 
could not, if ever so much inclined, complete the marriage 
contracted with Edward ; and as Henry VIII. had stipulated 
to restore Boulogne in 1554, it seemed a matter of small 
moment to anticipate a few years the execution of the treaty. 
But when he proposed these reasons to the council, he met 
with strong opposition from his enemies ; who, seeing him 
unable to support the war, were determined, for that very 
reason, to oppose ail proposals for a pacification. The factions 
ran high in the court of England ; and matters were drawing 
to an issue fatal to the authority of the protector. 

After Somerset obtained the patent investing him with regal 
authority, he no longer paid any attention to the opinion of the 
other executors and counsellors ; and being elated with his 
high dignity, as well as with his victory at Pinkey, he thought 
that every one ought, in every thing, to yield to his sentiments. 
All those who were not entirely devoted to him were sure to 
be neglected ; whoever opposed his will received marks of 
anger or contempt ; t and while he showed a resolution to 
govern every thing, his capacity appeared not in any respect 
proportioned to his ambition. Warwick, more subtle and art- 
rill, covered more exorbitant views under fairer appearances : 
iiid having associated himself with Southampton, who had 
\>oen readrritted into the council, he formed a strong party, 

* Burnet, vol. ii. p. 132, 175. t Burnet, vol, ii. ^ 1SS. 

I Strype, vol. ii. p. 181. 



A. D. 1549. J EDW.iED VT 361 

who were determined to free themselves from the slavery im- 
posed on them by the protector. 

'The malecontent counsellors found the disposition oi the 
nation favorable to their designs. The nobility and gentry 
were in general displeased with the preference which Somer- 
set seemed to have given to the people ; and as they ascribed 
all the insults to which they had been lately exposed to his 
procrastination, and to the countenance shown to the multitude, 
they apprehended a renewal of the same disorders from his 
present affectation of popularity. He had erected a court of 
requests in his own house for the relief of the people,* and 
he interposed with the judges in their behalf; a measure which 
might be deemed illegal, if any exertion of prerogative at 
that time could with certainty deserve that appellation. And 
this attempt, which was a stretch of power, seemed the more 
impolitic, because it disgusted the nobles, the surest support 
of monarchical authority. 

But though Somerset courted the people, the interest which 
he had formed with them was in no degree answerable to his 
expectations. The Catholic party who retained influence with 
the lower ranks, were his declared enemies, and took advan- 
tage of every opportunity to decry his conduct. The attain- 
der and execution of his brother bore an odious aspect : the 
introduction of foreign troops into the kingdom was repre- 
sented in invidious colors : the great estate which he had 
suddenly acquired at the expense of the church and of the 
crown, rendered him obnoxious ; and the palace which he was 
building in the Strand, served by its magnificence, and still 
more by other circumstances which attended it, to expose him 
to the censure of the public. The parish church of St. Mary, 
with three bishops' houses, was pulled down, in order to furnish 
ground and materials for this structure : not content with that 
sacrilege, an attempt was made to demolish St. Margaret's, 
Westminster, and to employ the stones to the same purpose ; 
but the parishioners rose in a tumult, and chased away the 
protector's tradesmen. He then laid his hands on a chapel in 
St. Paul's churchyard, with a cloister and charnel-house be- 
longing to it ; and these edifices, together with a church of 
St. John of Jerusalem, were made use of to raise his palace. 
What rendered the matter more odious to the people was, that 
the tombs and other monuments of the dead were defaced ; 



* Strype. vol. ii. p 1S3. 

vol. in. — Q 



?65 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1549 

and the bones, being carried away, were buried in unconse« 
uiated ground.* 

All these imprudences were remarked by Somerset's ene- 
mies, who resolved to take advantage of them. Lord St. John, 
president of the council, the earls of Warwick, Southampton, 
and Arundel, with five members more, met at Ely House ; 
and assuming to themselves the whole power of the council, 
began to act independently of the protector, whom they rep- 
resented as the author of every public grievance and misfor 
tune. They wrote letters to the chief nobility and gentry fh 
England, informing them of the present measures, and requir- 
ing their assistance : they sent for the mayor and aldermen 
of London, and enjoined them to obey their orders, without 
regard to any contrary orders which they might receive from 
the duke of Somerset. They laid the same injunctions on the 
lieutenant of the Tower, who expressed his resolution to com- 
ply with them. Next day, Rich, lord chancellor, the marquis 
of Northampton, the earl of Shrewsbury, Sir Thomas Cheney, 
Sir John Gage, Sir Ralph Sadler, and Chief Justice Montague, 
joined the malecontent counsellors ; and every thing bore a 
bad aspect for the protector's authority. Secretary Petre, 
whom he had sent to treat with the council, rather chose to 
remain with them . the common council of the city, being 
applied to, declared with one voice their approbation of the 
new measures, and their resolution of supporting them.t 

As soon as the protector heard of the defection of the coun- 
sellors, he removed the king from Hampton Court, where he 
then resided, to the Castle of Windsor ; and arming his friends 
and servants, seemed resolute to defend himself against all his 
enemies. But finding that no man of rank, except Cranmer 
and Paget, adhered to him, that the people did not rise at his 
summons, that the city and Tower had declared against him, 
that even his best friends had deserted him, he lost all hopes 
of success, and began to apply to his enemies for pardon and 
forgiveness. No sooner was this despondency known, than 
Lord Russel, Sir John Baker, speaker of the house of com- 
mons, and three counsellors more, who had hitherto remained 
neuters, joined the party of Warwick, whom every one now 
regarded as master. The council informed the public, by 
proclamation, of their actions and intentions ; they wrote to the 



* Heylin, p. 72, 73. Stowe's Survey of London. Hay ward, p. 
t Stowe, p. 597, 59S. Holingshed. p. 1057. 



303 



A. D. 1549. J edward vi. 363 

princesses Mary and Elizabeth to the same purpose ; and 
they made addresses to the king, in which, after the humblest 
protestations of duty and submission, they informed him, that 
they were the council appointed by his lather for the govern- 
ment of the kingdom during his minority ; that they had 
chosen the duke of Somerset protector, under the express con- 
dition that he should guide himself by their advice and direc- 
tion ; that he had usurped the whole authority, and had 
neglected, and even in every thing opposed their counsel ; 
that he had proceeded to that height of presumption, as to 
levy forces against them, and place these forces about his 
majesty's person : they therefore begged that they might be 
admitted to his royal presence, that he would be pleased to 
restore them to his confidence, and that Somerset's servants 
might be dismissed. Their request was complied with : 
Somerset capitulated only for gentle treatment, which was 
promised him. He was, however, sent to the Tower,* with 
some of his friends and partisans, among whom was Cecil, 
afterwards so much distinguished. Articles of indictment were 
exhibited against him ;t of which the chief, at least the best 
founded, is his usurpation of the government, and his taking 
into his own hands the whole administration of affairs. The 
clause of his patent, which invested him with absolute power, 
unlimited by any law, was never objected to him ; plainly be- 
cause, according to the sentiments of those times, that power 
was in some degree involved in the very idea of regal authority. 
The Catholics were extremely elated with this revolution , 
and as they had ascribed all the late innovations to Somer- 
set's authority, they hoped that his fall would prepare the 
way for the return of the ancient religion. But Warwick 
who now bore chief sway in the council, was entirely indiflei 
ent with regard to all these points of controversy ; and finding 
that the principles of the reformation had sunk deeper into 
Edward's mind than to be easily eradicated, he was deter- 
mined to comply with the young prince's inclinations, and not 
to hazard his new-acquired power by any oangerous enterprise. 
He took care very early to express his inlentions of supporting 
the reformation ; and he threw such discouragements on 
Southampton, who stood at the head ot the Romanists, and 
whom he considered as a dangerous rival, that that high- 

* Stowe, p. 600. 

t Burnet, vol. ii. bsok i. coll. 46. Hayward, p. 308. Stowe, p. 602 
tiolingshed, p. 105&. 



.jt-i HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1(149 

spirited nobleman retired from the council, and soon after died 
irom vexation and disappointment. The other counsellors, 
who had concurred in the revolution, received their reward 
by promotions and new honors. Russel was created earl of 
Bedford : the marquis of Northampton obtained the office of 
great chamberlain ; and Lord Wentworth, besides the office 
of chamberlain of the household, got two large manors, Stepney 
and Hackney, which were torn from the see of London.* A 
council of regency was formed ; not that which Henry's will 
had appointed for the government of the kingdom, and which, 
being founded on an act of parliament, was the only legal 
one, but composed chiefly of members who had formerly been 
appointed by Somerset, and who derived their seat from an 
authority which was now declared usurped and illegal. But 
such niceties were, during that age, little understood, and still 
less regarded in England. 

A session of parliament was held ; and as it was the usual 
maxim of that assembly to acquiesce in every administration 
which was established, the council dreaded no opposition from 
that quarter, and had more reason to look for a corroboration 
of their authority. Somerset had been prevailed on to confess, 
on his knees, befon. the council, all the articles of charge 
against him ; and he imputed these misdemeanors to his own 
rashness, folly, and indiscretion, not to any malignity of in- 
tention, f He even subscribed this confession ; and the paper 
was given in to parliament, who, after sending a committee 
to examine him, and hear him acknowledge it to be genuine, 
passed a vote, by which they deprived him of all his offices, 
and fined him two thousand pounds a year in land. Lord 
St. John was created treasurer in his place, and Warwick 
eaxl marshal. The prosecution against him was carried no 
further. His fine was rebutted by the king : he recovered his 
liberty : and Warwick, thinking that he was now sufficiently 
humbled, and that his authority was much lessened by his late 
tame and abject behavior, readmitted him into the council, 
and even agreed to an alliance between their families, by the 
marriage of his own son, Lord Dudley, with the lady Jane 
Soymour, daughter of Somerset. J 

During this session, a severe law was passed against riots. $ 
It was enacted, that if any, to the number of twelve persons. 

* Heylin, p. 8.1. Ryraer, torn. xv. p. 226. 

t Heylin, p. S4. Hiivward. p. 309. Stowe, p. G03. 

t Hayward, p. 309. " i 3 and 4 Edward VI. o •?. 



A.D. fOOU.J EDWARD yt '63 

should meet together for any matter of state, and being re- 
quired by a lawful magistrate, should not disperse, it should 
be treason ; and if any broke hedges, or violently pulled up 
pales about enclosures, without lawful authority, it should be 
felony: any attempt to kill a privy counsellor was subjected 
to the same penalty. The bishops had made an application, 
complaining that they were deprived of all their power by 
the encroachments of the civil courts, and the present suspen- 
sion of the canon law ; that they could summon no oifendei 
before them, punish no vice, or exert the discipline of the 
church ; from which diminution of their authority, they pre- 
tended, immorality had every where received great encourage- 
ment and increase. The design of some was to revive the 
penitentiary rules of the primitive church ; but others thought, 
that such an authority committed to the bishops would prove 
more oppressive than confession, penance, and all the clerical 
inventions of the Romish superstition. The parliament, for 
the present, contented themselves with empowering the king 
to appoint thirty-two commissioners to compile a body of 
canon laws, which were to be valid, though never ratified 
by parliament. Such implicit trust did they repose in the 
crown, without reflecting that all their liberties and proper- 
ties might be affected by these canons.* The king did not 
live to affix the royal sanction to the new canons. Sir John 
Sharington, whose crimes and malversations had appeared so 
egregious at the condemnation of Lord Seymour, obtained from 
parliament a reversal of his attainder.! This man sought 
favor with the more zealous reformers ; and Bishop Latimer 
affirmed that, though formerly he had been a most notorious 
knave, he was now so penitent that he had become a very 
honest man. 

[1550.] When Warwick and the council of regency began 
to exercise their power, they found themselves involved in the 
same difficulties that had embarrassed the protector. The wars 
with France and Scotland could not be supported by an exhaust- 
ed exchequer ; seemed dangerous to a divided nation ; and were 
now acknowledged not to have any object which even (he 
greatest and most uninterrupted success could attain. The 
project of peace entertained by Somerset, had served them as a 
pretence for clamor against his administration; yet, after send- 
ing Sir Thomas Cheney to the emperor, and making agai 1 a 



3 an •! S Edward VI. c. 2. t 3 and 4 Edward VI. c. ! '» 



5oG HISTORY OF ENGLAND [A. D. 15o0 

fruitless effort to engage him in the protection of Boulogne, they 
found themselves obliged to listen to the advances which Henry 
made them, by the canal of Guidotti, a Florentine merchant. 
The earl of Bedford, Sir John Mason, Paget, and Petre, were 
sent over to Boulogne, with full powers to negotiate. The 
French king absolutely refused to pay the two millions of 
crowns, which his predecessor had acknowledged to be due to 
the crown of England as arrears of pensions : and said, that 
he never would consent to render himself tributary to any 
prince : but he offered a sum for the immediate restitution of 
Boulogne ; and four hundred thousand crowns were at last 
agreed on, one half to be paid immediately, the other in Au- 
gust following. Six hostages were given for the performance 
of this article. Scotland was comprehended in the treaty : the 
English stipulated to restore Lauder and Douglas, and to de 
molish the fortresses of Roxburgh and Eymouth.* No sooner 
was peace concluded with France, than a project was enter- 
tained of a close alliance with that kingdom ; and Henry will- 
ingly embraced a proposal so suitable both to his interests and 
his inclinations. An agreement some time after was formed 
for a marriage between Edward and Elizabeth, a daughter 
of France ; and all the articles were, after a little negotiation, 
fully settled : t but this project never took effect. 

The intention of marrying the king to a daughter of Henry, 
a violent persecutor of the Protestants, was nowise acceptable 
to that party in England : but in all other respects the coun- 
cil was steady in promoting the reformation, and in enforcing 
the laws against the Romanists. Several prelates were still 
addicted to that communion ; and though they made some 
compliances, in order to save their bishoprics, they retarded, 
as much as they safely could, the execution of the new laws, 
and gave countenance to such incumbents as were negligent 
or refractory. A resolution was therefore taken to seek pre- 
tences for depriving those prelates ; and the execution of this 
intention was the more easy, as they had all of them been 
obliged to take commissions, in which it was declared, that 
they held their sees during the king's pleasure only. It was 
thought proper to begin with Gardiner, in order to strike a 
terror into the rest. The method of proceeding against him 



* Burnet, voi. li. p. 148. Hayward, p. 310, 311, 312. Rymer. vol 
iv. p. 211. 

+ Hay ward, p. 318. Heylin, p. 101. Rymer, torn. xv. p. 213 



A.. D. 1550.] edward vi 367 

was violent, and had scarcely any color of law or justice. 
Injunctions had been given him to inculcate in a sermon the 
duty of obedience to a king, even daring his minority ; and 
because he had neglected this topic, he had been thrown intc 
prison, and had been there detained during two years, without 
being accused of any crime except disobedience to this arbi- 
trary command. The duke of Somerset, Secretary Petre, and 
some others of the council, were now sent, in order to try his 
temper, and endeavor to find some grounds for depriving him : 
he professed to them his intention of conforming to the gov- 
rnmeut, of supporting the king's laws, and of officiating by 
trie new liturgy. This was not the disposition which they 
expected or desired.* A new deputation was therefore sent, 
who carried him several articles to subscribe. He was re- 
quired to acknowledge his former misbehavior, and to con- 
fess the justice of his confinement : he was likewise to own, 
that the king was supreme head of the church ; that the 
power of making and dispensing with holydays was part 
of the prerogative ; that the book of common prayer was 
a godly and commendable form ; that the king was a com- 
plete sovereign in his minority ; that the law of the six arti- 
cles was justly repealed; and that the king had full authority 
to correct and reform what was amiss in ecclesiastical disci- 
pline, government, or doctrine. The bishop was willing to set 
his hand to all the articles except the first : he maintained 
his conduct to have been inoffensive ; and declared, that he 
would not own himself guilty of faults which he had never 
committed, t 

The council, finding that he had gone such lengths, were 
determined to prevent his full compliance by multiplying the 
difficulties upon him, and sending him new articles to sub- 
scribe. A list was selected of such points as they thought 
would be the hardest of digestion ; and, not content with this 
rigor, they also insisted on his submission, and his acknowledg- 
ment of past errors. To make this subscription more mortify- 
ing, they demanded a promise, that he would recommend 
and publish all these articles from the pulpit : but Gardiner, 
who saw that they intended either to ruin or dishonor him, or 
perhaps both, determined not to gratify his enemies by any 
further compliance : he still maintained his innocence : de» 



* Heylin, p. 99. 

t Collier, vol. ii. p. 305, from the council books. Heylin. p. 99 



368 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1551 

sired a fair trial ; and refused to subscribe more articles till 
he should recover his liberty. For this pretended offence hia 
bishopric was put under sequestration for three months ; and 
as he then appeared no more compliant than before, a com- 
mission was appointed to try, or, more properly speaking, to 
condemn him. [1551.] The commissioners were, the pri- 
mate, the bishops of London, Ely, and Lincoln, Secretary 
Petre, Sir James Hales, and some other lawyers. Gardiner 
objected to the legality of the commission, which was not 
founded on any statute or precedent ; and he appealed from 
the commissioners to the king. His appeal was not regarded : 
sentence was pronounced against him : he was deprived of 
his bishopric, and committed to close custody : his books and 
papers were seized ; he was secluded from all company ; and 
it was not allowed him either to send or receive any letters or 
messages.* 

Gardiner, as well as the other prelates, had agreed to hold 
his office during the king's pleasure : but the council, unwill- 
ing to make use of a concession which had been so illegally 
and arbitrarily extorted, chose rather to employ some forms 
of justice; a resolution which led them to commit still greater 
iniquities and severities. But the violence of the reformers 
did not stop here. Day, bishop of Chichester, Heath of 
Worcester, and Voisy of Exeter, were deprived of their bish- 
oprics, on pretence of disobedience. Even Kitchen of Lan 
daff, Capon of Salisbury, and Samson of Coventry, though 
they had complied in every thing, yet, not being supposed 
cordial in their obedience, were obliged to seek protection, by 
sacrificing the most considerable revenues of their see to the 
rapacious courtiers.t 

These plunderers neglected not even smaller profits. An 
order was issued by council for purging the library at West- 
minster of all missals, legends, and other superstitious vol- 
umes, and delivering their garniture to Sir Anthony Aucher. } 
Many of these books were plated with gold and silver, and 
curiously embossed ; and this finery was probably the super- 
stition that condemned them. Great havoc was likewise 
made on the libraries at Oxford. Books and manuscripts 
were destroyed without distinction : the volumes of divinity 



* Fox, vol. ii. p. 734, et seq. Barnet. Heylin. ( oilier. 
t Goodwin do Praesul. Arigl. Heylin, p. 100. 
t Collier, vol ii p. 307, from the council books. 



A.D. 1551.1 EDWARD VI. ''69 

suffered for their rich binding : those of literature wert con- 
demned as useless : those of geometry and astronomy were 
supposed to contain nothing but necromancy.* The univer- 
sity had not power to oppose these barbarous violences : they 
were in danger of losing their own revenues ; and expected 
every moment to be swallowed up by the earl of Warwick 
and his associates. 

Though every one besides yielded to the authority of the 
council, the lady Mary could never be brought to compliance ; 
and she still continued to adhere to the mass, and to reject 
the new liturgy. Her behavior was, during some time, con- 
nived at ; but at last her two chaplains, Mallet and Berkeley, 
were thrown into prison ; t and remonstrances were made to 
the princess herself on account of her disobedience. The 
council wrote her a letter, by which they endeavored to make 
her change her sentiments, and to persuade her that her re- 
ligious faith was very ill grounded. They asked her what 
warrant there was in Scripture for prayers in an unknown 
tongue, the use of images, or offering up the sacrament for 
the dead ; and they desired her to peruse St. Austin, and the 
other ancient doctors, who would convince her of the errors 
of the Romish superstition, and prove that it was founded 
merely on false miracles and lying stories, t The lady Mary 
remained obstinate against all this advice, and declared her- 
self willing to endure death rather than relinquish her religion ; 
she only feared, she said, that she was not worthy to suffer 
martyrdom in so holy a cause : and as for Protestant books, 
she thanked God, that as she never had, so she hoped never 
to read any of them. Dreading further violence, she en- 
deavored to make an escape to her kinsman Charles; but her 
design was discovered and prevented. § The emperor remon- 
strated in her behalf, and even threatened hostilities if liberty 
of conscience were refused her : but though the council, 
sensible that the kingdom was in no condition to support with 
honor such a war, was desirous to comply, they found great 
difficulty to overcome the scruples of the young king. He 
had been educated in such a violent abhorrence of the mass 
and other popish rites, which he regarded as impious and 
idolatrous, that he should participate, he thought, in the sin 



* Wood, Hist, and Antiq. Oxon. lib. i. p. 271, 272. 

t Strype, vol. ii. p. 2 !0 t Fox, vol. ii. Collier Burnet 

i Hay ward, p. 315. 

Q* 



370 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 155* 

if he allowed its commission : and when at last the impor- 
tunity of Cranmcr, Ridley, and Poinet prevailed somewhat 
over his opposition, he burst into tears ; lamenting his sister's 
obstinacy, and bewailing his own hard fate, that he must suffer 
bcr to continue in such an abominable mode of worship. 

The great object, at this time, of antipathy among the 
Protestant sects was popery, or, more properly speaking, the 
papists. These they regarded as the common enemy, who 
threatened every moment to overwhelm the evangelical faith, 
and destroy its partisans by fire and sword : they had not 
as yet had leisure to attend to the other minute differences 
among themselves, which afterwards became the object of 
such furious quarrels and animosities, and threw the whole 
kingdom into combustion. Several Lutheran divines, who 
had reputation in those days, Bucer, Peter Martyr, and others, 
were induced to take shelter in England, from the persecu- 
tions which the emperor exercised in Germany ; and they 
received protection and encouragement. John A-Lasco, a 
Polish nobleman, being expelled his country by the rigors of 
the Catholics, settled during some time at Embden in East 
Friezland, where he became preacher to a congregation of 
the reformed. Foreseeing the persecutions which ensued, he 
removed to England, and brought his congregation along with 
him. The council, who regarded them as industrious, useful 
people, and desired to invite over others of the same char- 
acter, not only gave them the church of Augustin Friars for 
the exercise of their religion, but granted them a charter, by 
which they were erected into a corporation, consisting of a 
superintendent and four assisting ministers. This ecclesiastical 
establishment was quite independent of the church of Eng- 
land, and differed from it in some rites and ceremonies.* 

These differences among the Protestants were matter oi 
triumph to the Catholics ; who insisted that the moment men 
departed from the authority of the church, they lost all 
criterion of truth and falsehood in matters of religion, and 
must be carried away by every wind of doctrine. The con- 
tinual variations of every sect of Protestants afforded them 
the same topic of reasoning. The book of common prayei 
suffered in England a new revisal, and some rites and cere- 
monies which had given offence were omitted.! The specu- 
lative doctrines, or the metaphysics of religion, were also 



* Mem. Cranm. u 234. t Mem. Cranm. n. 289. 



A. D. 1551] Edward \n. 371 

reduced to forty-two articles. These were intended to obviate 
further divisions and variations ; and the compiling of them 
had been postponed till the establishment of the liturgy, which 
was justly regarded as a more material object to the people. 
The eternity of hell torments is asserted in this confession of 
faith ; and care is also taken to inculcate, not only that no 
heathen, how virtuous soever, can escape an endless state of 
the most exquisite misery, but also that every one who pre- 
sumes to maintain that any pagan can possibly be saved, is 
himself exposed to the penalty of eternal perdition * 

The theological zeal of the council, though seemingly fer- 
vent, went not so far as to make them neglect their own 
temporal concerns, which seem to have ever been uppermost 
in their thoughts : they even found leisure to attend to the 
public interest ; nay, to the commerce of the nation, which 
was at that time very little the object of general study or 
attention. The trade of England had anciently been carried 
on altogether by foreigners, chiefly the inhabitants of the 
Hanse Towns, or Easterlings, as they were called ; and in 
order to encourage these merchants to settle in England, they 
had been erected into a corporation by Henry III., had ob- 
tained a patent, were endowed with privileges, and were 
exempted from several heavy duties paid by other aliens. So 
ignorant were the English of commerce, that this company, 
usually denominated the merchants of the " stil-yard," en- 
grossed, even down to the reign of Edward, almost the whole 
foreign trade of the kingdom ; and as they naturally employed 
the shipping of their own country, the navigation of England 
was also in a very languishing condition. It was thereforo 
thought proper by the council to seek pretences for annulling 
the privileges of this corporation, privileges which put them 
nearly on an equal footing with Englishmen in the duties 
which they paid ; and as such patents were, during that age, 
granted by the absolute power of the king, men were the less 
surprised to find them revoked by the same authority. Sev- 
eral remonstrances were made against this innovation by 
Lubec, Hamburgh, and other Hanse towns ; but the council 
persevered in their resolution, and the good effects of it soon 
became visible to the nation. The English merchauts, bj 
their very situation as natives, had advantages above foreigners 
ia tin? purchase of cloth, wool, and other commodities: though 

* Article xviii. 



372 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A. D. 1551 

Ihese advantages had not hitherto heen sufficient to rouse theii 
industry, or engage them to become rivals to this opulent 
company : but when aliens' duty was also imposed upon all 
foreigners indiscriminately, the English were tempted to enter 
into commerce ; and a spirit of industry began to appear in 
the kingdom.* 

About the same time a treaty was made with Gustavus 
Ericson, king of Sweden, by which it was stipulated, that 
if he sent bullion into England, he might export English 
commodities without paying custom ; that he should carry 
bullion to no other prince ; that if he sent oziums, steel, 
copper, etc., he should pay custom for English commodities 
as an Englishman ; and that if he sent other merchandise, he 
should have free intercourse, paying custom as a stranger. t 
The bullion sent over by Sweden, though it could not be in 
great quantity, set the mint to work : good specie was coined, 
and much of the base metal formerly issued was recalled : a 
circumstance which tended extremely to the encouragemeut 
of commerce. 

But all these schemes for promoting industry were likely to 
prove abortive by the fear of domestic convulsions, arising 
from the ambition of Warwick. That nobleman, not con- 
tented with the station which he had attained, carried further 
his pretensions, and had gained partisans who were disposed 
to second him in every enterprise. The last earl of North- 
umberland died without issue ; and as Sir Thomas Piercy, his 
brother, had been attainted on account of the share which he 
had in the Yorkshire insurrection during the late reign, the 
title was at present extinct, and the estate was vested in the 
crown. Warwick now procured to himself a grant of those 
ample possessions, which lay chiefly in t^e north, the most 
warlike part of the kingdom ; and was dignified with the title 
of duke of Northumberland. His friend Paulet, Lord St 
John, the treasurer, was created, first, earl of Wiltshire, then 
marquis of Winchester : Sir William Herbert obtained the 
title of earl of Pembroke. 

But the ambition of Northumberland made him regard all 
increase of possessions and titles, either to himself or his 
partisans, as steps only to further acquisitions. Finding that 
Somerset, though degraded from his dignity, and even lessened 

* Hayward, p. 32G. Hejlin, p. 10S. Strype's Mem vol. ii. p. 205 
t Heylin, p. 1C9. 



A. D. 1551.1 EDWARD VI. 373 

in the public opinion by his spiritless conduct, still enjoyed a 
considerable share of popularity, he determined to ruin the 
man whom he regarded as the chief obstacle to the attain- 
ment of his hopes. The alliance which had been contracted 
between the families had produced no cordial union, and only 
enabled Northumberland to compass with more certainty the 
destruction of his rival. He secretly gained many of the 
friends and servants of that unhappy nobleman : he some- 
times terrified him by the appearance of danger ; sometimes 
provoked him by ill usage. The unguarded Somerset often 
broke out into menacing expressions against Northumberland : 
at other times he formed rash projects, which he immediately 
abandoned : his treacherous confidants carried to his enemy 
every passionate word which dropped from him : they revealed 
the schemes which they themselves had first suggested : * and 
Northumberland, thinking that the proper season had now 
come, began to act in an open manner against him. 

In one night, the duke of Somerset, Lord Grey, David and 
John Seymour, Hammond, and Neudigate, two of the duke's 
servants, Sir Ilalph Vane, and Sir Thomas Palmer, were 
arrested and committed to custody. Next day, the duchess 
of Somerset, with her favorites Crane and his wife, Sir Miles 
Partridge, Sir Michael Stanhope, Bannister, and others, was 
thrown into prison. Sir Thomas Palmer, who had all along 
acted as a spy upon Somerset, accused him of having formed 
a design to raise an insurrection in the north, to attack the 
gens d'armes on a muster day, to secure the Tower, and to 
raise a rebellion in London : but, what was the only probable 
accusation, he asserted, that Somerset had once laid a project 
for murdering Northumberland, Northampton, and Pembroke, 
at a banquet which was to be given them by Lord Paget. 
Crane and his wife confirmed Palmer's testimony with regard 
to this last design ; and it appears that some rash scheme of 
that nature had really been mentioned, though no regular con- 
spiracy had been formed, or means prepared for its execution. 
Hammond confessed that the duke had armed men to guard 
him one night in his house at Greenwich. 

Somerset was brought to his trial before the marquis of 
Winchester, created high steward. Twenty-seven peers com- 
posed the jury, among whom were Northumberland, Pern 
broke, and Northampton, whom decency should have hindered 

* Hoylin, p. 112. 



S74 HISTORY OF ENGLAND |A. D. 1552 

from acting as judges in the trial of a man that appeared to be 
their capital enemy. Somerset was accused of high treason, 
on account of the projected insurrections, and of felony in lay- 
ing a design to murder privy counsellors. 

We have a very imperfect account of all state trials during 
that ag«, which is a sensible defect in our history ; but it 
appears that some more regularity was observed in the man- 
agement of this prosecution than had usually been employed 
in like cases. The witnesses were at least examined by the 
privy council ; and though they were neither produced in 
court, nor confronted with the prisoner, (circumstances re- 
quired by the strict principles of equity,) their depositions 
were given in to the jury. The proof seems to have been 
lame with regard to the treasonable part of the charge ; and 
Somerset's defence was so satisfactory, that the peers gave 
verdict in his favor : the intention alone of assaulting the privy 
counsellors was supported by tolerable evidence ; and the jury 
brought him in guilty of felony. The prisoner himself con- 
fessed that he had expressed his intention of murdering North- 
umberland and the other lords ; but had not formed any reso- 
lution oil that head : and when he received sentence, he asked 
pardon of those peers for the designs which he had hearkened 
to against them. The people, by whom Somerset was beloved, 
hearing the first part of his sentence, by which he was acquit- 
ted from treason, expressed their joy by loud acclamations : 
but thsir satisfaction was suddenly damped on finding that he 
was condemned to death for felony.* 

[1552.] Care had been taken by Northumberland's emis- 
saries to prepossess the young king against his uncle ; and 
lest h« should relent, no access was given to any of Somer- 
set's friends, and the prince was kept from reflection by a 
continued series of occupations and amusements. At last the 
prisoner was brought to the scaffold on Tower Hill, amidst 
great crowds of spectators, who bore him such sincere kind- 
ness, that they entertained to the last moment the fond hopes 
of his pavdon.t Many of them rushed in to dip their hand 
kerchiefs in his blood, which they long preserved as a precious 
relic ; aud some of them soon after, when Northumberland 
met with' a like doom, upbraided him with this cruelty, and 
displayed to him these symbols of his crime. Somerset, 



* Flyward, p. 320, 321, 322. Stowe, p. 606. Holingshed,p. 1067 
t F wward, p. 324, 325'. 



A.D. 15&2.J EDWARD VI. 37 >, 

indeed, though many actions of his h\e v/ere exceptionable, 
seems in general to have merited a better fate ; and the faults 
which he committed were owing to weakness, not to any bad 
intention. His virtues were better calculated for private than 
for public life ; and by his want of penetration and firmness, 
he was ill fitted to extricate himself from those cabals and 
violences to which that age was so much addicted. Sir 
Thomas Arundel, Sir Michael Stanhope, Sir Miles Partridge, 
and Sir Ralph Vane, all of them Somerset's friends, were 
brought to their trial, condemned, and executed : great injus- 
tice seems to have been used in their prosecution. Lord 
Paget, chancellor of the duchy, was on some pretence tried 
in the star chamber, and condemned in a fine of six thousand 
pounds, with the loss of his office. To mortify him the more, 
he was degraded from the order of the garter ; as unworthy, 
on account of his mean birth, to share that honor.* Lord 
Rich, chancellor, was also compelled to resign his office, on 
the discovery of some marks of friendship which he had 
Ehown tc Somerset. 

The day after the execution of Somerset, a session of 
parliament was held, in which further advances were made 
towards the establishment of the reformation. The new 
liturgy was authorized ; and penalties were enacted against 
all those who absented themselves from public worship.t To 
use the mass had already been prohibited under severe 
penalties ; so that the reformers, it appears, whatever scope 
they had given to their own private judgment, in disputing 
the tenets of the ancient religion, were resolved not to allow 
the same privilege to others ; and the practice, nay, the very 
doctrine of toleration, was at that time equally unknown to all 
sects and parties. To disseut from the religion of the magis- 
trate, was universally conceived to be as criminal as to ques- 
tion his title, or rebel against his authority. 

A law was enacted against usury ; that is, against taking 
any interest for money. ± This act was the remains of ancient 
superstition ; but being found extremely iniquitous in itself, as 
well as prejudicial to commerce, it was afterwards repealed 
in the twelfth of Elizabeth. The common rate of interest, 
notwithstanding tiie law, was at this time fourteen per cent, j 

A bill was introduced by the ministry into the house of 



* Stowe, p. bOS. f 5 and G Edward VI. cap. 

£ 5 and 6 Edward VI. cap. CO. S Hay ward. p. 318 



37C H] STORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1552 

lords, renewing those rigorous statutes of treason which had 
been abrogated in the beginning of this reign ; and though 
the peers, by their high station, stood most exposed to these 
tempests of state, yet had they so little regard to public 
security, or even to their own true interest, that they passed 
the bill with only one dissenting voice.* But the commons 
rejected it, and prepared a new bill, that passed into a law, by 
which it was enacted, that whoever should call the king, or 
any of his heirs named in the statute of the thirty-fifth of the 
last reign, heretic, schismatic, tyrant, infidel, or usurper of the 
crown, should forfeit, for the first offence, their goods and 
chattels, and be imprisoned during pleasure ; for the second, 
should incur a "praemunire;" for the third, should be attaint- 
ed for treason. But if any should unadvisedly utter such a 
slander in writing, printing, painting, carving, or graving, he 
was, for the first offence, to be held a traitor.! It may be 
worthy of notice, that the king and his next heir, the lady 
Mary, were professedly of different religions ; and religions 
which threw on each other the imputation of heresy, sch'srtt, 
idolatry, profaneness, blasphemy, wickedness, and all the 
opprobrious epithets that religious zeal has invented. It was 
almost impossible, therefore, for the people, if they spoke at 
all on these subjects, not to fall into the crime so severely 
punished by the statute ; and the jealousy of the commons fot 
liberty, though it led them to reject the bill of treasons sent 
to them by the lords, appears not to have been very active, 
vigilant, or clearsighted. 

The commons annexed to this bill a clause, which was of 
more importance than the bill itself, that no one should be 
convicted of any kind of treason, unless the crime were proved 
by the oaths of two witnesses, confronted with the prisoner. 
The lords for some time scrupled to pass this clause, though 
conformable to the most obvious principles of equity. But the 
members of that house trusted for protection to their present 
personal interest and power, and neglected the noblest and 
most permanent security, that of laws. 

The house of peers passed a bill, whose object was, making 
a provision for the poor; but the commons, not choosing that 
a money bill should begin in the upper house, framed a mrw 
act to the same purpose. By this act the churchwardens ww 



* Pari. Hist. vol. lii. p. 258. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 190. 
t 5 and 6 Edwari VI. cap. 2- 



A.D. \b£>2.\ EDWARD VI 377 

empowered to collect charitable contributions ; and if any 
refused to give, or dissuaded others from that charity, the 
bishop of the diocese was empowered to proceed against them. 
Such large discretionary powers intrusted to the prelates, 
seem as proper an object of jealousy as the authority assumed 
by the peers.* 

There was another occasion in which the parliament reposed 
an unusual confidence in the bishops. They empowered them 
to proceed against such as neglected the Sundays and holy- 
days. t But these were unguarded concessions granted to the 
church : the general humor of the age rather led men to 
bereave the ecclesiastics of all power, and even to pillage 
them of their property : many clergymen, about this time, 
were obliged for a subsistence to turn carpenters or tailors, 
and some kept alehouses. $ The bishops themselves were 
generally reduced to poverty, and held both their revenues and 
spiritual office by a very precarious and uncertain tenure. 

Tonstal, bishop of Durham, was one of the most eminent 
prelates of that age, still less for the dignity of his see, than 
for his own personal merit, his learning, moderation, human- 
ity, and beneficence. He had opposed, by his vote and author- 
ity, all innovations in religion ; but as soon as they were 
enacted, he had always submitted, and had conformed to 
every theological system which had been established. His 
known probity had made this compliance be ascribed, not to 
an interested or time-serving spirit, but to a sense of duty, 
which led him to think that all private opinion ought to be 
sacrificed to the great concern of public peace and tranquillity. 
The general regard paid to his character had protected him 
from any severe treatment during the administration of Som- 
erset ; but when Northumberland gained the ascendant, he 
was thrown into prison ; and as that rapacious nobleman had 
formed a design of seizing the revenues of the see of Dur- 
ham, and of acquiring to himself a principality in the northern 
counties, he was resolved, in order to effect his purpose, to 
deprive Tonstal of his bishopric. A bill of attainder, there- 
fore, on pretence of misprision of treasou, was introduced into 
the house of peers against the prelate ; and it passed with 
the opposition only of Lord Stourton, a zealous Catholic, and 
of Crar-msr, who always bore a cordial and sincere friendship 



* S and 6 Edward VI. cap. 2. t 5 and G Edwaid VI. cap. 3. 

I Biruct, vol. ii. p. 202. 



378 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1S54 

to ths bishop of Durham. But when the bill was sent dowi 
to the commons, they required that witnesses should be e>; 
amined, that Tonstal should be allowed to defend himself, and 
tbat he should be confronted with his accusers ; and when 
these demands were refused, they rejected the bill. 

This equity, so unusual in the parliament during that age, 
was ascribed, by Northumberland and his partisans, not to 
any regard for liberty and justice, but to the prevalence of 
Somerset's faction in the house of commons, which, being 
chosen during the administration of that nobleman, had been 
almost entirely filled with his creatures. They were confirmed 
in this opinion, when they found that a bill, ratifying the 
attainder of Somerset and his accomplices, was also rejected 
by the commons, though it had passed the upper house. A 
resolution was therefore taken to dissolve the parliament, 
which had sitten during this whole reign ; and soon after to 
summon a new one. 

Northumberland, in order to insure to himself a house of 
commons entirely obsequious to his will, ventured on an ex- 
pedient which could not have been practised, or even imagined, 
in an age when there was any idea or comprehension of lib- 
erty. He engaged the king to write circular letters to all the 
sheriffs, in which he enjoined them to inform the freeholders, 
that they were required to choose men of knowledge and 
experience for their representatives. After this general exhor- 
tation, the king continued in these words : " And yet, never- 
theless, our pleasure is, that where our privy council, or any 
of them, shall, in our behalf, recommend within their juris- 
diction men of learning and wisdom ; in such cases their direc- 
tions shall be regarded and followed, as tending to the same 
end which we desire ; that is, to have this assembly composed 
of the persons in our realm the best fitted to give advice and 
good counsel."* Several letters were sent from the king, 
recommending members to particular counties ; Sir Richard 
Cotton to Hampshire ; Sir William Fitzwilliams and Sir Henry 
Nevil to Berkshire ; Sir William Drury and Sir Henry Ben- 
lingfield to Suffolk, etc. But though some counties only 
received this species of conge d'elire from the king ; the rec- 
ommendations from the privy council and the counsellors, we 
nay fairly presume, would extend to the greater part, if not 
the whole of the kingdom. 

* Slrype's Ecclesiastical Memorials, vol. ii. pi 304. 



A. D. \ 553.] edward vi. 379 

It is remarkable, that this attempt was made during the 
reign of a minor king, when the royal authority is usually 
weakest; that it was patiently submitted to; and that it gave 
bo little umbrage as scarcely to be taken notice of by any 
historian. The painful and laborious collector above cited, 
who never omits the most trivial matter, is the only person 
that has thought this memorable letter worthy of being trans- 
mitted to posterity. 

[1553.] The parliament answered Northumberland's ex- 
pectations. As Tonstal had been in the interval deprived of 
his bishopric in an arbitrary manner, by the sentence of lay 
commissioners appointed to try him, the see of Durham was, 
by act of parliament, divided into two bishoprics, which had 
certain portions of the revenue assigned them. The regalities 
of the see, which included the jurisdiction of a count palatine, 
were given by the king to Northumberland ; nor is it to be 
doubted but that nobleman had also purposed to make rich 
plunder of the revenue, as was then usual with the courtiers 
whenever a bishopric became vacant. 

The commons gave the ministry another mark of attach- 
ment, which was at that time the most sincere of any, the most 
cordial, and the most difficult to be obtained : they granted a 
supply of two subsidies and two fifteenths. To render this 
present the more acceptable, they voted a preamble, containing 
a long accusation of Somerset, "for involving the king in wars, 
wasting his treasure, engaging him in much debt, embasing the 
coin, and giving occasion for a most terrible rebellion." * 

The debts of the crown were at this time considerable. 
The king had received from France four hundred thousand 
crowns on delivering Boulogne ; he had reaped profit from 
the sale of some chantry lands; 'he churches had been 
spoiled of all their plate and rich ornaments, which, by a 
decree of council, without any pretence of law or equity, had 
been converted to the king's use:t yet such had been the 
rapacity of the courtiers, that the crown owed about thi'ee 
hundred thousand pounds:! anc ^ great dilapidations were at 
the same time made of the royal demesnes. The young 
prince showed, among other virtues, a disposition to frugality, 
which, had he lived, would soon have retrieved these losses ; 
but as his health was declining very fast, the present emptiness 



* 7 Edward VI. cap. 12. t Heylin, p. 95, 132. 

J Strype's Ecclesiastical Memorials, vol. ii. p. 344. 



380 HISTOKY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. \ '5% 

of the exchequer was a sensible obstacle to the execution of 
those projects which the ambition of Northumberland had 
founded on the prospect of Edward's approaching end. 

That nobleman represented to the prince, "whom youth and 
an infirm state of health made susceptible of any impression, 
that his two sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, had both of theru 
been declared illegitimate by act of parliament ; and though 
Henry by his will had restored them to a place in the succcs 
sion, the nation would never submit to see the throne of Eng- 
land filled by a bastard : that they were the king's sisters by 
the half blood only ; and even if they were legitimate, could 
not enjoy the crown as his heirs and successors : that the 
queen of Scots stood excluded by the late king's will ; aud 
being an alien, had lost by law all right of inheriting ; not to 
mention that, as she was betrothed to the dauphin, she would, 
by her succession, render England, as she had already dene 
Scotland, a province to France : that the certain consequence 
of his sister Mary's succession, or that of the queen of Scots. 
was the abolition of the Protestant religion, and the repeal of 
the laws enacted in favor of the reformation, and the reestab- 
lishment of the usurpation and idolatry of the church of Ron? : 
that, fortunately for England, the same order of succession 
which justice required, was also the most conformable to pub- 
lic interest ; and there was not on any side any just ground 
for doubt or deliberation : and when these three priiicensea 
were excluded by such solid reasons, the succession devolved 
on the marchioness of Dorset, elder daughter of the French 
queen and the duke of Suffolk : that the next heir of the 
marchioness was the lady Jane Gray, a lady of the most ami- 
able character, accomplished by the best education, both in 
literature and religion, and every way worthy of a crown ; 
and that even if her title by blood were doubtful, which there 
was no just reason to pretend, the king was possessed of the 
same power that his father enjoyed, and might leave her the 
crown by letters patent. These reasonings made impression 
on the young prince ; and above all, his zealous attachment 
to the Protestant religion made him apprehend the conse- 
quences, if so bigoted a Catholic as his sister Mary should 
succeed to the throne. And though he bore a tender affection 
to the lady Elizabeth, who was liable to no such objection, 
mp.ans were found to persuade him, that he coald net exciude 
the one sister, on account of illegitimacy, without giving disc 
an exclusion io the other 



A..D. 1553.1 edward vi. 3S1 

Northumberland, finding that his arguments were likely to 
operate on the king, began to prepare the other parts of his 
scheme. Two sons of the duke of Suffolk by a second venter 
having died this season of the sweating sickness, that title was 
extinct ; and Northumberland engaged the king to bestow it 
on the marquis of Dorset. By means of this favor, and of 
others which he conferred upon him, he persuaded the new 
duke of Suffolk and the duchess, to give their daughter, the 
lady Jane, in marriage to his fourth son, the Lord Guildford 
Dudley. In order to fortify himself by further alliances, he 
negotiated a marriage between the lady Catharine Gray, 
second daughter of Suffolk, and Lord Herbert, eldest son of 
the earl of Pembroke. He also married his own daughter to 
Lord Hastings, eldest son of the earl of Huntingdon.* These 
marriages were solemnized with great pomp and festivity ; 
and the people, who hated Northumberland, could not forbear 
expressing their indignation at seeing such public demonstra- 
tions of joy during the languishing state of the young prince's 
health. 

Edward had been seized in the foregoing year, first with 
the measles, then with the small-pox ; but having perfectly 
recovered from both these distempers, the nation entertained 
hopes that they would only serve to confirm his health ; and 
he had afterwards made a progress through some parts of the 
kingdom. It was suspected that he had there overheated him- 
self in exercise ; he was seized with a cough, which proved 
obstinate, and gave way neither to regimen nor medicines : 
several fatal symptoms of consumption appeared ; and though 
it was hoped that, as the season advanced, his youth and tem- 
perance might get the better of the malady, men saw with 
great concern his bloom and vigor insensibly decay. The 
general attachment to the young prince, joined to the hatred 
^ome the Dudleys, made it be remarked, that Edward had 
every moment declined in health, from the time that Lord 
Robert Dudley had been put about him in quality of gentle- 
man of the bedchamber. 

The languishing state of Edward's health made Northum 
kwrland the more intent on the execution of his project. Ho 
removed all, except his own emissaries, from about the king , 
ho himself attended him with the greatest assiduity : he pre 
tended the most anxious concern for his health and welfare 

* Heylin, p. 199 Slow?, n * '):) 



382 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D 1553. 

and by all these artifices he prevailed on the young prince to 
give his final consent to the settlement projected. Sir Edward 
Montague, chief justice of the common pleas, Sir John Baker, 
and Sir Thomas Bromley, two judges, with the attorney ana 
solicitor-general, were summoned to the council, where, after 
the minutes of the intended deed were read to them, the king 
required them to draw them up in the form of letters patent. 
They hesitated to obey, and desired time to consider of it. 
The more they reflected the greater danger they found in 
compliance. The settlement of the crown by Henry VIII. 
had been made in consequence of an act of parliament ; and 
by another act, passed in the beginning of this reign, it was 
declared treason in any of the heirs, their aiders or abettors, 
to attempt on the right of another, or change the order of 
succession. The judges pleaded these reasons before the 
council. They urged, that such a patent as was intended 
would be entirely invalid ; that it would subject, not only the 
judges who drew it, but every counsellor who signed it, to the 
pains of treason ; and that the only proper expedient, both for 
giving sanction to the new settlement, and freeing its partisans 
from danger, was to summon a parliament, and to obtain the 
consent of that assembly. The king said, that he intended 
afterwards to follow that method, and would call a parliament, 
in which he purposed to have his settlement ratified ; but in 
the mean time he required the judges, on their allegiance, to 
draw the patent in the form required. The council told the 
judges, that their refusal would subject all of them to the pains 
of treason. Northumberland gave to Montague the appella- 
tion of traitor ; and said that he would in his shirt fight amy 
man in so just a cause as that of Lady Jane's succession 
The judges were reduced to great difficulties between tht 
dangers from the law, and those which arose from the vio- 
lence of present power and authority.* 

The arguments were canvassed in several different meet- 
ings between the council and the judges, and no solution could 
be found of the difficulties. At last, Montague proposed an 
expedient, which satisfied both his brethren and the counsel- 
lors. Hit desired that a special commission should be passed 
by the king and council, requiring the judges to draw a 
patent for the new settlement of the crown; and that a par- 
don should immediately after be granted them for any offence 



Fuller, book viii. p. 2. 



A 7) 1553.1 edward v:, 383 

which they might have incurred by their comr. hance. When 
the patent was drawn, and brought to the bishop of Ely, chan- 
cellor, in order to have the great seal affixed to it, this prelate 
required that all the judges should previously sign it. Gosnald 
at first refused, and it was with much difficulty that he wass 
prevailed on, by the violent menaces of Northumberland, to 
comply ; but the constancy of Sir James Hales, who, though 
a zealous Protestant, preferred justice on this occasion to the 
prejudices of his party, could not be shaken by any expedient. 
The chancellor next required, for his greater security, that all 
the privy counsellors should set their hands to the patent : the 
intrigues of Northumberland, or the fears of his violence, were 
so prevalent, that the counsellors complied with this demand. 
Cranmer alone hesitated during some time, but at last yielded 
to the earnest and pathetic entreaties of the king.* Cecil, at 
that time secretary of state, pretended afterwards, that he only 
signed as witness to the king's subscription. And thus, by the 
king's letters patent, the two princesses, Mary and Elizabeth, 
were set aside ; and the crown was settled on the heirs of the 
duchess of Suffolk ; for the duchess herself was content to give 
place to her daughters. 

After this settlement was made, with so many inauspicious 
circumstances, Edward visibly declined every day, and small 
hopes were entertained of his recovery. To make matters 
worse, his physicians were dismissed by Northumberland's 
advice, and by an order of council ; and he was put into 
the hands of an ignorant woman, who undertook in a little 
time to restore him to his former state of health. After the 
use of her medicines, all the bad symptoms increased to the 
most violent degree : he felt a difficulty of speech and breath 
ing ; his pulse failed, his legs swelled, his color became livid ; 
and many other symptoms appeared of his approaching end. 
He expired at Greenwich, in the sixteenth year of his age, and 
the seventh of his reign. 

All the English historians dwell with pleasure on the excel- 
lent qualities of this young prince ; whom the flattering prom- 
ises of hope, joined to many real virtues, had made an object 
of tender affection to the public. He possessed mildness of 
disposition, application to study and business, a capacity to 
learn and judge, and an attachment to equity and justice. Hu 
eeems only to have contracted, from his education, and nom 



* Cranm. Mem. p. 29a 



384 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1 553 

the genius of the age in which he lived, too much of a narrow 
prepossession in matters of religion, which made him incline 
Eomewhat to bigotry and persecution : but as the bigotry of 
Protestants, less governed by priesta, lies under more restraints 
than that of Catholics, the enecta of this malignant quality 
were the less to be apprehends. C a longer life had been 
granted to young Edward. 



A. D 1553.1 mart- 5«a 



CHAPTER XXXVI, 

MARY. 
CONTEMPORARY MONARCHS. 



Bmp. or Germ. 

Charles V 1553 

Verdinanc? I. 



K. or France. 


K. or Spain. 


a. or Scotland. 


Pens. 


Henry 1 1. 


Charles V. 

resigns . . . 15o5 
Philip II. 


Mary. 


Julius III. .. 16M 
Msrcellus II. 1554 
Paul IV. 



[1553.] The title of the princess Mary, after the demise 
of her brother, was not exposed to any considerable difficulty ; 
and the objections started by the lady Jane's partisans were 
new and unheard of by the nation. Though all the Protest- 
ants, and even many of the Catholics, believed the marriage 
of Henry VIII. with Catharine of Arragon to be unlawful and 
invalid ; yet, as it had been contracted by the parties without 
any criminal intention, had been avowed by their parents, rec- 
ognized by the nation, and seemingly founded on those prin- 
ciples of law and religion which then prevailed, few imagined 
that their issue ought on that account to be regarded as ille 
gitimate. A declaration to that purpose had indeed been ex- 
torted from parliament by the usual violence and caprice of 
Henry ; but as that monarch had afterwards been induced tc 
restore his daughter to the right of succession, her title was 
now become as legal and parliamentary as it was ever esteem- 
ed just and natural The public had long been familiarized 
to these sentiments : during all the reign of Edward, the 
princess was regarded as his lawful successor ; and though the 
Protestants dreaded the effects of her prejudices, the extreme 
hatred universally entertained against the Dudleys,* who, men 
foresaw, would, under the name of Jane, be the real sover- 
eigns, was more than sufficient to counterbalance, even with 
that party, the attachment to religion. This last attempt to 
violate the order of succession had displayed Northumberland's 
ambition and injustice in a full light ; and when the people 
reflected on the long train of fraud, iniquity, and cruelty, by 



* Sleidan, lib. xxv. 

vol. in. — u 



3 s -' HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [ A. D. 1553. 

which that project had been conducted ; that the lives of the 
two Seymours, as well as the title of the princesses, had been 
sacrificed to it ; they were moved by indignation to exert them 
selves in opposition to such criminal enterprises. The general 
veneration also paid to the memory of Henry VIII. prompted 
the nation to defend the rights of his posterity ; and the mis- 
eries of the ancient civil wars were not so entirely forgotten, 
that men were willing, by a departure from the lawful heir, 
to incur the danger of like bloodshed and confusion. 

Northumberland, sensible of the opposition which he must 
sxpcct, had carefully concealed the destination made by the 
king ; and in order to bring the two princesses into his power, 
he had had the precaution to engage the council, before Ed- 
ward's death, to write to them in that prince's name, desiring 
iheir attendance, on pretence that his infirm state of health 
required the assistance of their counsel and the consolation of 
iheir company.* Edward expired before their arrival ; but 
Northumberland, in order to make the princesses fall into the 
snare, kept the king's death still secret ; and the lady Marj 
had already reached Hoddesden, within half a day's journey 
of the court. Happily, the earl of Arundel sent her private 
intelligence, both of her brother's death, and of the conspiracy 
ibrmed against her ; t she immediately made haste to retire ; 
and she arrived, by quick journeys, first at Kenning Hall in 
Norfolk, then at Framlingham in Suffolk ; where she purposed 
to embark and escape to Flanders, in case she should find it 
impossible to defend her right of succession. She wrote letters 
to the nobility and most considerable gentry in every county 
in England ; commanding them to assist her in the defence of 
her crown and person. And she despatched a message to the 
council ; by which she notified to them, that her brother's 
death was no longer a secret to her, promised them pardon for 
past ollences, and required them ; mmediately to give orders 
lor proclaiming her in London. \ 

Northumberland found that further dissimulation was fruit- 
less : he went to Sion House, $ accompanied by the duke of 
Suffolk, the earl of Pembroke, and others of the nobility; and 
he approached the lady Jane, who resided there, with all the 
respect usually paid to the sovereign. Jane was in a great 
measure ignorant of these transactions , and it was with equal 



* Heylin, p. 154. t Burnet, vol. ii. p. 233. 

X Fox, vol. iii. p. 14. $ Thuanus, lib. xiii. c. 10 



A. D. 1553.] mary. 387 

frief and surprise that she received intelligence of them.* 
She was a lady of an amiable person, an engaging disposition, 
accomplished parts ; and being of an equal age with the lata 
king, she had received all her education with him, and seemed 
even to possess greater facility in acquiring every part of 
manly and polite literature. She had attained a familiar 
knowledge of the Roman and Greek languages, besides mod- 
ern tongues ; had passed most of her time in an application to 
learning ; and expressed a great indifference for other occupa- 
tions and amusements usual with her sex and station. Roger 
Ascham, tutor to the lady Elizabeth, having one day paid her 
a visit, found her employed in reading Plato, while the rest of 
the family were engaged in a party of hunting in the park ; 
and on his admiring the singularity of her choice, she told him, 
that she received more pleasure from that author than the 
others could reap from all their sport and gayety.t Her heart, 
full of this passion for literature and the elegant arts, and of 
tenderness towards her husband, who was deserving of her 
affections, had never opened itself to the flattering allurements 
of ambition ; and the intelligence of her elevation to the throne 
was nowise agreeable to her. She even refused to accept of 
the present ; pleaded the preferable title of the two princesses , 
expressed her dread of the consequences attending an enterprise 
so dangerous, not to say so criminal ; and desired to remain ir 
the private station in which she was born. Overcome at last 
by the entreaties, rather than the reasons, of her father and 
father-in-law, and above all of her husband, she submitted to 
their will, and was prevailed on to relinquish her own judg- 
ment. It was then usual for the kings of England, after their 
accession, to pass the first days in the Tower ; and Northumber- 
land immediately conveyed thither the new sovereign. All 
the counsellors were obliged to attend her to that fortress ; and 
ry this means became, in reality, prisoners in the hands of 
Northumberland, v/hose will they were necessitated to obey. 
Orders were given by the council to proclaim Jane throughout 
the kingdom ; but these orders were executed only in London 
and the neighborhood. No applause ensued : the people heard 
the proclamation with silence and concern : some even ex- 
pressed their scorn and contempt ; and one Pot, a vintner'* 
apprentice, was severely punished for this offence. The Prot- 



* Godwih in Kennet, p. 329. Heylin. p 140 Buriet, 

t Ascham's Works, p. 222, 223. 



vol i : . p. 234 



388 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. A.D.I 553 

estant teachers themselves, who were employed to convince 
the people of Jane's title, found their eloquence fruitless ; and 
Ridley, bishop of London, who preached a sermon to that 
purpose, wrought no effect upon his audience. 

The people of Suffolk, meanwhile, paid their attendance on 
Mary. As they were much attached to the reformed com- 
munion, they could not forbear, amidst their tenders of duty, 
expressing apprehensions for their religion ; but when she 
assured them that she never meant to change the laws of Ed- 
ward, they enlisted themselves in her cause with zeal and 
'iffection. The nobility and gentry daily flocked to her, and 
brought her reenforcement. The earls of Bath and Sussex, 
the eldest sons of Lord Wharton and Lord Mordaunt, Sir Wil- 
liam Drury, Sir Henry Benningfield, Sir Hemy Jernegan, 
persons whose interest lay in the neighborhood, appeared at 
the head of their tenants and retainers.* Sir Edward Has- 
tings, brother to the earl of Huntingdon, having received a 
commission from the council to make levies for the lady Jane 
in Buckinghamshire, carried over his troops, which amounted 
to four thousand men, and joined Mary. Even a fleet which 
had been sent by Northumberland to lie off the coast of Suf- 
folk, being forced into Yarmouth by a storm, was engaged to 
declare for that princess. 

Northumberland, hitherto blinded by ambition, saw at last 
the danger gather round him, and knew not to what hand to 
turn himself. He had levied forces, which were assembled at 
London ; but dreading the cabals of the courtiers and counsel- 
lors, Avhose compliance, he knew, had been entirely the result 
of fear or artifice, he was resolved to keep near the person of 
the lady Jane, and send Suffolk to command the army. But 
the counsellors, who wished to remove him,t working on the 
filial tenderness of Jane, magnified to her the danger to which 
her father would be exposed ; and represented that Northum- 
berland, who had gained reputation by formerly suppressing a 
rebellion in those parts, was more proper to command in that 
enterprise. The duke himself, Avho knew the slender capacity 
of Suffolk, began to think that none but himself was able to 
encounter the present danger ; and he agreed to take on him 
the command of the troops. The counsellors attended on him 



* Heylin, p. 160. "Burnet, vol. ii. p. 237. 

t Godwin, p. 330. Heylin, p. 159. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 239. Fox 
roi. iii. p. 15. 



A. D. 1553.] MARY. 389 

at his departure With the highest protestations of attachment, 
and none more than Arundel, his mortal enemy.* As he 
went along, he remarked the disaffection of the people, which 
foreboded a fatal issue to his ambitious hopes. " Many," said 
he to Lord Gray, ,: come out to look at us, but I find not one 
who cries, God speed you ! " t 

The duke had no sooner reached St. Edmondsbury, than he 
found his army, which did not exceed six thousand men, too 
weak to encounter the queen's, $ which amounted to double 
the number. He wrote to the council, desiring them to send 
him a reenforcement ; and the counsellors immediately laid 
hold of the opportunity to free themselves from confinement. 
They left the Tower, as if they meant to execute Northum- 
berland's commands ; but being assembled in Baynard's Castle, 
a house belonging to Pembroke, they deliberated concerning the 
method of shaking off his usurped tyranny. Arundel began 
the conference, by representing the injustice and cruelty of 
Northumberland, the exorbitancy of his ambition, the criminal 
enterprise which he had projected, and the guilt in which he 
had involved the whole council ; and he affirmed, that the 
only method of making atonement for their past offences, was 
by a speedy return to the duty which they owed to their law- 
ful sovereign. $ This motion was seconded by Pembroke, who. 
clapping his hand to his sword, swore he was ready to fight 
any man that expressed himself of a contrary sentiment. The 
mayor and aldermen of London were immediately sent for, 
who discovered great alacrity in obeying the orders they re- 
ceived to proclaim Mary. The people expressed their appro- 
bation by shouts of applause. Even Suffolk, who commanded 
in the Tower, finding resistance fruitless, opened the gates, 
and declared for the queen. The lady Jane, after the vain 
pageantry of wearing a crown during ten days, returned to a 
private life Avith more satisfaction than she felt when the roy- 
alty was tendered to her : || and the messengers who were 
sent to Northumberland with orders to lay down his arms, 
found that he had despaired of success, was deserted by all hia 
followers, and had already proclaimed the queen, with exterior 
marks of joy and satisfaction. H The people every where, on 

* Heylin, p. 161. Baker, p. 315. Holingshed, p. 108G. 

1 Speed, p. S16. t Godwin, p. 331. 

§ Godwin, p. 331, 332. Thuaaus, lib. xiii. 

|| Godwin, p. 332. Thuanus, lib. xiii. c. i, 

^ Stowe, p. 612. 



390 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. f A. D. 1553. 

the queen's approach to London, gave sensible expressions of 
their loyalty and attachment ; and the lady Elizabeth met her 
at the head of a thousand horse, which that princess had levied 
in order to support their joint title against the usurper.* 

The queen gave orders for taking into custody the duke of 
Northumberland, who fell on his knees to the earl of Arundel, 
that arrested him, and abjectly begged his life.t At the same 
time were committed the earl of Warwick, his eldest son, 
Lord Ambrose and Lord Henry Dudley, two of his younger 
sons, Sir Andrew Dudley, his brother, the marquis of North- 
ampton, the earl of Huntingdon, Sir Thomas Palmer, and 
Sir John Gates. The queen afterwards confined the duke 
of Suffolk, Lady Jane Gray, and Lord Guildford Dudley. 
But Mary was desirous, in the beginning of her reign, to ac- 
quire popularity by the appearance of clemency ; and because 
the counsellors pleaded constraint as an excuse for their trea- 
son, she extended her pardon to most of them. Suffolk him- 
self recovered his liberty ; and he owed this indulgence, in a 
great measure, to the contempt entertained of his capacity. 
But the guilt of Northumberland was too great, as well as his 
ambition and courage too dangerous, to permit him to entertain 
any reasonable hopes of life. When brought to his trial, he 
only desired permission to ask two questions of the peers ap- 
pointed to sit on his jury ; whether a man could be guilty of 
treason that obeyed orders given him by the council under the 
great seal ; and whether those who were involved in the same 
guilt with himself could sit as his judges. Being told that 
the great seal of a usurper was no authority, and that persons 
not lying under any sentence of attainder were still innocent 
in the eye of the law, and might be admitted on any jury, £ 
he acquiesced, and pleaded guilty. At his execution, he made 
profession of the Catholic religion, and told the people that they 
never would enjoy tranquillity till they returned to the faith 
of their ancestors : whether that such were his real sentiments, 
which he had formerly disguised, from interest and ambition, 
or that he hoped by this declaration to render the queen more 
avorable to his family. § Sir Thomas Palmer and Sir John 
Gates suffered with him ; and this was all the blood spilled on 

* Burnet- vol. ii. p. 240. Heylia, p. 19. Stowe, p. 613. 

t Buinet, vol. ii. p. 239. Stbwe, p. 612 Baker, p. 315. Holing, 
shed, p. 10S8. 

J Burnet, vol. ii. p. 243. Heylin, p. 18. Baker, p. 316. Holing 
shed, p. 10S9. 

4 Heylin, p. 19. Burnet vol. iii. p. 243. Stowe, p. 614 



A.D 1 553. J mary. 3in 

account of so dangerous and criminal an enterprise against the 
rights of the sovereign. Sentence was pronounced against the 
lady Jane and Lord Guildford, but without any present inten- 
tion of putting it in execution. The youth and innocence of 
the persons, neither of whom had reached their seventeenth 
year, pleaded sufficiently in their favor. 

When Mary first arrived in the Tower, the duke of Norfolk, 
who had been detained prisoner during all the last reign ; 
Courtney, son of the marquis of Exeter, who, without being 
charged with any crime, had been subjected to the same pun 
ishment ever since his father's attainder; Gardiner, Tonstal, 
and Bonner, who had been confined for their adhering to the 
Catholic cause, appeared before her, and implored her clem- 
ency and protection.* They were all of them restored to their 
liberty, and immediately admitted to her confidence and favor. 
Norfolk's attainder, notwithstanding that it had passed in par- 
liament, was represented as null and invalid ; because, among 
other informalities, no special matter had been alleged against 
him, except wearing a coat of arms which he and his ances- 
tors, without giving any offence, had always made use of, in 
the face of the court and of the whole nation. Courtney soon 
after received the title of earl of Devonshire ; and though 
educated in such close confinement that he was altogether 
unacquainted with the world, he soon acquired all the accom- 
plishments of a courtier and a gentleman, and made a con- 
siderable figure during the few years which he lived after he 
recovered his liberty. t Besides performing all thos« popular 
acts, which, though they only affected individuals, were very 
acceptable to the nation, the queen endeavored to ingratiate 
herself with the public by granting a general pardon, though 
with some exceptions, and by remitting the subsidy voted to 
her brother by the last varliament. $ 

The joy arising from the succession of the lawful heir, and 
from the gracious demeanor of the sovereign, hindered not the 
people from being agitated with great anxiety concerning the 
etate of religion ; and us the bulk of the nation inclined to the 
Protestant communion, the apprehensions entertained concern- 
ing the principles and prejudices of the new queen were pretty 
general. The legitimacy of Mary's birth had appeared to be 



* Heylin, p. 20. Stowe, p. 013. Holinofshed, p. 1088. 
t D£peches de Noailles, v., I. ii. p. 246, 217. 
t Stovvc. p. (116. 



WH HISTORY OF ENGLAND [A. IX 1653 

somewhat connected with the papal authority ; and that princess, 
being educated with her mother, had imbibed the strongest 
attachment to the Catholic communion, and the highest aver- 
sion to those new tenets, whence, she believed, all the misfor- 
tunes of her family had originally sprung. The discourage- 
ments which she lay under from her father, though at last the} 
brought her to comply with his will, tended still more to in- 
crease her disgust to the reformers ; and the vexations which 
the protector and the council gave her during Edward's reign, 
had no other effect than to confirm her further in her preju- 
dices. Naturally of a sour and obstinate temper, and irritated 
by contradiction and misfortunes, she possessed all the quali- 
ties fitted to compose a bigot ; and her extreme ignorance 
rendered her utterly incapable of doubt in her own belief, oi 
of indulgence to the opinions of others. The nation, therefore, 
had great reason to dread, not only the abolition, but the per- 
secution of the established religion from the zeal of Mary ; and 
it was not long ere she discovered her intentions. 

Gardiner, Bonner, Tonstal, Day, Heath, and Vesey, were 
reinstated in their sees, either by a direct act of power, or 
what is nearly the same, by the sentence of commissioners 
appointed to review their trial and condemnation. Though 
the bishopric of Durham had been dissolved by authority of 
parliament, the queen erected it anew by letters patent, and 
replaced Tonstal in his regalities as well as in his revenue. 
On pretence of discouraging controversy, she silenced, by an 
act of prerogative, all the preachers throughout England, except 
such as should obtain a particular license ; and it was easy to 
foresee, that none but Catholics would be favored with this 
privilege. Holgate, archbishop of York, Coverdale, bishop of 
Exeter, Ridley of London, and Hooper of Glocester, were 
thrown into prison ; whither old Latimer also was sent soon 
after. The zealous bishops and priests were encouraged in 
their forwardness to revive the mass, though contrary to the 
present laws. Judge Hales, who had discovered such con- 
stancy in defending the queen's title, lost all his merit by an 
opposition to those illegal practices ; and being committed to 
custody, was treated with such severity, that he fell into frenzy, 
and killed himself. The men of Suffolk were browbeaten 
because they presumed to plead the promise which the queen 
when they enlisted themselves in her service, had given them 
of maintaining the reformed religion : one in particular was 
Bet in the pillory, because he had been too peremptoiy in 



A.D. 1553.] mary. 393 

recalling to her memory the engagements which &lv- i^d taken 
on that occasion. And though the queen still premised in a 
public declaration belbre the council, to tolerate those who 
differed from her ; men foresaw that this engagement, like the 
former, would prove but a feeble security when set in opposi- 
tion to religious prejudices. 

The merits of Cranmer towards the queen during the reign 
of Henry had been considerable ; and he had successfully 
employed his good offices in mitigating the severe prejudices 
which that monarch had entertained against her. But the 
active part which he had borne in promoting her mother's 
divorce, as well as in conducting the reformation, had made 
him the object of her hatred ; and though Gardiner had been 
equally forward in soliciting and defending the divorce, he 
had afterwards made sufficient atonement, by his sufferings 
in defence of the Catholic cause. The primate, therefore, 
had reason to expect little favor during the present reign ; 
but it was by his own indiscreet zeal, that he brought on 
himself the first violence and persecution. A report being 
spread that Cranmer, in order to pay court to the queen, had 
promised to officiate in the Latin service, the archbishop, to 
wipe off this aspersion, published a manifesto in his own 
defence. Among other expressions, he there said, that as the 
devil was a liar from the beginning, and the father of lies, he 
had at this time stirred up his servants to persecute Christ 
and his true religion : that this infernal spirit now endeavored 
to restore the Latin satisfactory masses, a thing of his own 
invention and device ; and in order to effect his purpose, had 
falsely made use of Cranmer's name and authority ; and that 
the mass is not only without foundation, either in the Scriptures 
or in the practice of the primitive church, but likewise discovers 
a plain contradiction to antiquity and the inspired writings, and 
is besides replete with many horrid blasphemies.* On the 
publication of this inflammatory paper Cranmer' was thrown 
into prison, and was tried for the part which he had acted in 
concurring with the lady Jane, and opposing the queen's ac- 
cession. Sentence of high treason was pronounced against 
him ; and though his guilt was shared with the whole privy 
council, and was even less than that of the greater part of 
them, this sentence; however severe, must be allowed entire!) 

* Fox, vol. iii p. 94. Heylir., p. 25. Godwin, p. 336. Burnet, vol 
i. Coll No. S Cranni Mem. \>. 305. Thuanus, lib. xiii. c. 3 



394 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1553 

legal. The execution of it, however, did not follow ; and 
Cranmer was reserved for a more cruel punishment. 

Peter Martyr, seeing a persecution gathering against the 
reformers, desired leave to withdraw ; * and while some zealous 
Catholics moved for his commitment, Gardiner hoth pleaded 
that he had come over by an invitation from the government, 
and generously furnished him with supplies for his journey : but 
as bigoted zeal still increased, his wife's body, which had been 
interred at Oxford, was afterwards dug up by public orders, and 
buried in a dunghill. t The bones of Bucer and Fagius, two 
foreign reformers, were about the same time committed to the 
flames at Cambridge. J John A-Lasco was first silenced, then 
ordered to depart the kingdom with his congregation. The 
greater part of the foreign Protestants followed him ; and the 
nation thereby lost many useful hands for arts and manufactures. 
Several English Protestants also took shelter in foreign parts ; 
and every thing bore a dismal aspect for the reformation. 

During this revolution of the court, no protection was ex- 
pected by Protestants from the parliament which was sum- 
moned to assemble. A zealous reformer § pretends, that great 
violence and iniquity were used in the elections ; but. besides 
that the authority of this writer is inconsiderable, that practice 
as the necessities of government seldom required it, had nc. 
hitherto been often employed in England. There still re- 
mained such numbers devoted by opinion or affection to many 
piinciples of the ancient religion, that the authority of the 
crown was able to give such candidates the preference in most 
elections ; and all those who hesitated to comply with the 
court religion, rather declined taking a seat, which, while it 
rendered them obnoxious to the queen, could afterwards afford 
them no protection against the violence of prerogative. It soon 
appeared, therefore, that a majority of the commons would be 
obsequious to Mary's designs ; and as the peers were mostly 
attached to the court from interest or expectations, little op- 
position was expected from that quarter. 

In opening the parliament, the court showed a contempt of 
the laws, by celebrating, before the two houses, a mass of the 
Holy Ghost in the Latin tongue, attended with all the ancient 



* Heylin, p. 2G. Godwin, p. 336. Cranm. Mem. p. 317. 
t Heylin, p. 26. t Saunders de Schism. Anglic. 

$ Beale. But Fox, who lived at the time, and is very minute in his 
narratives, says nothing of the matter. See vol. iii p. 16. 



A.D. lOOo.j M.UlT. 3 l J£ 

rites and ceremonies, though abolished by act of parliament.* 
Taylor, bishop of Lincoln, having refused to kneel at this ser- 
vice, was severely handled, and was violently thrust out cf 
the house.! The queen, however, still retained the title of 
supreme head of the church of England ; and it was generally 
pretended, that the intention of the court was only to restore 
religion to the same condition in which it had been left by 
Henry ; but that the other abuses of popery, which were the 
most grievous to the nation, would never be revived. 

The first bill passed by the parliament was of a populai 
nature, and abolished every species of treason not contained 
in the statute of Edward III., and every species of felony 
that did not subsist before the first of Henry VIII. $ The 
parliament next declared the queen to be legitimate, ratified 
the marriage of Henry with Catharine of Arragon, and an- 
nulled the divorce pronounced by Cranmer, § whom they 
greatly blamed on that account. No mention, however, is 
made of the pope's authority, as any ground of the marriage. 
, All the statutes of King Edward with regard to religion were 
repealed by one vote. || The attainder of the duke of Norfolk 
was reversed ; and this act of justice was more reasonable 
than the declaring of that attainder invalid without further 
authority. Many clauses of the riot act, passed in the late 
reign, were revived : a step which eluded in a great measure 
the popular statute enacted at the first meeting of parlia- 
ment. 

Notwithstanding the compliance of the two houses with 
the queen's inclinations, they had still a reserve in certain 
articles ; and her choice of a husband, in particular, was of 
such importance to national interest, that they were determined 
not to submit tamely, in that respect, to her v/ill and pleasure. 
There were three marriages T[ concerning which it was sup- 
posed that Mary had deliberated after her accession. The 
first person proposed to her was Courtney, earl of Devonshire, 
who, being an Englishman nearly allied to the crown, could 
not fail of being acceptable to the nation ; and as he was of 



* Fox, vol. iii. p. 19. f Burnet, vol. ii. p. 252. 

t Marias, sess. i. cap. i. By this repeal, though it was in geneial 
popular, the clause of 5 and 6 Edward VI. cap. 11, was lost, which 
required the confronting of two witnesses in order to prove an) 
treason. 

§ Marias, sess. ii. cap. 1. 11 Marias, sess. ii. cap. 1 

1 Thuan. lib. ii. cap. 3. 



896 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. fA. D. 1553. 

an engaging person and address, he had visibly gained on ihfl 
queen's affections,* and hints were dropped him of her favor- 
able dispositions towards him * But that nobleman neglected 
these overtures ; and seemed rather to attach himself to the 
lady Elizabeth, whose youth and agreeable conversation he 
preferred to all the power and grandeur of her sister. Thia 
choice occasioned a great coldness in Mary towards Devon- 
shire ; and make her break out in a declared animosity against 
Elizabeth. The ancient quarrel between their mothers had 
sunk deep into the malignant heart of the queen ; and after 
the declaration made by parliament in favor of Catharine's 
marriage, she wanted not a pretence for representing the birth 
of her sister as illegitimate. The attachment of Elizabeth to 
the reformed religion offended Mary's bigotry ; and as the 
young princess had made some difficulty in disguising her sen- 
timents, violent menaces had been employed to bring her to 
compliance. $ But when the queen found that Elizabeth had 
obstructed her views in a point which, perhaps, touched her 
still more nearly, her resentment, excited by pride, uo longer 
knew any bounds, and the princess was visibly exposed to tho 
greatest danger. $ 

Cardinal Pole, who had never taken priest's orders, was 
another party proposed to the queen; and theie appeared 
many reasons to induce her to make choice of this prelate. 
The high character of Pole for virtue and humanity ; the 
great regard paid him by the Catholic church, of which he 
had nearly reached the highest dignity on the death of Paul 
III. ; || the queen's affection for the countess of Salisbury, his 
mother, who had once been her governess ; the violent animos- 
ity to which he had been exposed on account of his attachment 
to the Romish communion ; all these considerations had a 
powerful influence on Mary. But the cardinal was now in 
the decline of liie ; and having contracted habits of study and 
retirement, he was represented to her as unqualified for the 
bustle of a court and the hurry of business. H The queen, 
therefore, dropped all thoughts of that alliance : but as she 
entertained a great regard for Pole's wisdom and virtue, she 
still intended to reap the benefit of his counsel in the admin- 



* Depeches de Noailles, vol. ii. p. 147, 163, 214, 2lv5 ; vol. iii. p. 27 
t Godwin, p. 339. t Dep- de Noailles, vol. ii. passim. 

$ Heylin. p. 31. Burnet, vo ii. p. 255 
i! Father Paul, book iii. H Heylin, p bi. 



A. D. 1553.| mary. 'J97 

istration of her government. She secre ily entered into a 
negotiation with Commendoue, an agent of Cardinal Dandino, 
legate at Brussels ; she sent assurances to the pope, then 
Julius III., of her earnest desire to reconcile herself and her 
kingdoms to the holy see ; and she desired that Pole might be 
appointed legate for the performance of that pious office.* 

These two marriages being rejected, the queen cast her 
eye towards the emperor's family, from which her mothei 
was descended, and which, during her own distresses, had 
always afforded her countenance and protection. Charles V., 
who a few years before was almost absolute master of Ger 
many, had exercised his power in such an arbitrary manner, 
that he gave extreme disgust to the nation, who apprehended 
the total extinction of their liberties from the encroachments 
of that monarch.! Religion had served him as a pretence 
for his usurpations ; and from the same principle he met with 
that opposition which overthrew his grandeur, and dashed all 
his ambitious hopes. Maurice, elector of Saxony, enraged 
that the landgrave of Hesse, who, by his advice, and on his 
assurances, had put himself into the emperor's hands, should 
be unjustly detained a prisoner, formed a secret conspiracy 
among the Protestant princes ; and, covering his intentions 
with the most artful disguises, he suddenly marched his forces 
against Charles, and narrowly missed becoming master of his 
person. The Protestants flew to arms in every quarter ; and 
their insurrection, aided by an invasion from France, reduced 
the emperor to such difficulties, that he was obliged to submit 
to terms of peace which insured the independency of Ger- 
many. To retrieve his honor, he made an attack on France , 
and laying siege to Metz with an army of a hundred thousand 
men, he conducted the enterprise in person, and seemed 
determined, at all hazards, to succeed in an undertaking 
which had fixed the attention of Europe. But the duke of 
Guise, who defended Metz with a garrison composed of the 
bravest nobility of France, exerted such vigilance, conduct, 
and valor, that the siege was protracted to the depth of 
winter ; and the emperor found it dangerous to persevere 
any longer. He retired with the remains of his army into 
the Low Countries, much dejected with that reverse of for- 
tune which in his declining years, had so fatally overtaker. 
him. 



* Furnet, vol. ii. p. 258. t Thuanus, lib. iv. e. 17 



398 HISTORY OF ENGIAND. f A. D. 1553. 

No sooner did Charles hear of the death of Edward, and 
the accession of his kinswoman Mary to the crown of Eng- 
land, than he formed the scheme of acquiring that kingdom 
to his family ; and he hoped by this incident to balance all 
the losses which he had sustained in Germany. His son 
Philip was a widower ; and though he was only twenty-seven 
years of age, eleven years younger than the queen, this 
objection, it was thought, would be overlooked, and there was 
no reason to despair of her still having a numerous issue. 
The emperor, therefore, immediately sent over an agent to 
signify his intentions to Mary ; who, pleased with the support 
of so powerful an alliance, and glad to unite herself more 
closely with her mother's family, to which she was ever 
strongly attached, readily embraced the proposal. Norfolk, 
Arundel, and Paget, gave their advice for the match : and 
Gardiner, who was become prime minister, and who had been 
promoted to the office of chancellor, finding how Mary's in- 
clinations lay, seconded the project of the Spanish alliance. 
At the same time he represented, both to her and the emperor, 
the necessity of stopping all further innovations in religion, 
till the completion of the marriage. He observed, that the 
parliament amidst all their compliances had discovered evi- 
dent symptoms of jealousy, and seemed at present determined 
to grant no further concessions in favor of the Catholic 
religion : that though they might make a sacrifice to their 
sovereign of some speculative principles which they did not 
well comprehend, or of some rites which seemed not of any 
great moment, they had imbibed such strong prejudices 
against the pretended usurpations and exactions of the court 
of Rome, that they would with great difficulty be again 
brought to submit to its authority : that the danger of resuming 
the abbey lands would alarm the nobility and gentry, and 
induce them to encourage the prepossessions, which were but 
too general among the people, against the doctrine and worship 
of the Catholic church : that much pains had been taken to 
prejudice the nation against the Spanish alliance ; and if that 
point were urged at the same time with further changes in 
religion, it would hazard a general revolt and insurrection: 
Uiat the marriage being once completed would give authority 
to the queen's measures, and enable her afterwards to forward 
the pious work in which she was engaged : and that it was 
even necessary previously to reconcile the people to the mar- 
riage, by rendering the conditions extremely favorable to the 



A. U. 1555. j mary. 399 

English, aud such as would seem to insure to them their in- 
dependency, and the entire possession of their ancient laws and 
privileges. * 

The emperor, well acquainted with the prudence and ex- 
perience of Gardiner, assented to all these reasons, and he 
endeavored to temper the zeal of Mary, by representing the 
necessity of proceeding gradually in the great work of con- 
•ferting the nation. Hearing that Cardinal Pole, more sincere 
in his religious opinions, and less guided by the maxims of 
human policy, after having sent contrary advice to the queen, 
had set out on his journey to England, where he was to exer- 
cise his legatine commission, he thought proper to stop him at 
Dillinghen, a town on the Danube ; and he afterwards obtain- 
ed Mary's consent for this detention. The negotiation for the 
marriage meanwhile proceeded apace ; and Mary's intentions 
of espousing Philip became generally known to the nation. 
The commons, who hoped that they had gained the queen by 
the concessions which they had already made, were alarmed 
to hear that she was resolved to contract a foreign alliance ; 
and they sent a committee to remonstrate in strong terms 
against that dangerous measure. To prevent further appli- 
cations of the same kind, she thought proper to dissolve the 
parliament. 

A convocation had been summoned at the same time with 
the parliament ; and the majority here also appeared to be of 
the court religion. An ofler was very frankly made by the 
Romanists, to dispute concerning the points controverted 
between the two communions ; and as transubstantiation was 
the article which of all others they deemed the clearest, and 
founded on the most irresistible arguments, they chose to try 
their strength by defending it. The Protestants pushed the 
dispute as far as the clamor and noise of their antagonists 
would permit ; and they fondly imagined that they had ob- 
tained some advantage, when, in the course of the debate, they 
obliged the Catholics to avow that, according to their doctrine, 
Christ had in his last cupper held himself in his hand, and 
had swallowed and eaten himselft This triumph, however, 
was confined only to their own party : the Romanists main- 
tained, that their champions had clearly the better of the day ; 
that their adversaries were blind and obstinate heretics ; thai 

* Burnet, vol. ii. p. 2(51. 

+ Collier, vol. ii. p. 356. Fcx, vol. iii. p. 2'2. 



400 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D.I 55 1 

nothing but the most extreme depravity of heart could induce 
men to contest such self-evident principles ; and that the 
severest punishments were due to their perverse Avickedness. 
So pleased were they with their superiority in this favorite 
point, that they soon after renewed the dispute at Oxford ; 
and, to show that they feared no force of learning or abilities, 
where reason was so evident on their side, they sent thithei 
3ranmer, Latimer, and Ridley, under a guard, to try whethei 
hese renowned controversialists could find any appearanct, 
f argument to defend their baffled principles.* The issue ol 
the debate was very different from what it appeared to be a fe\* 
years before, in a famous conference held at the same place 
during the reign of Edward. 

[1551.] After the parliament and convocation were dis- 
missed, the new laws with regard to religion, though they had 
been anticipated in most places by the zeal of the Catholics, 
countenanced by government, were still more openly put 
in execution : the mass was everywhere reestablished ; and 
marriage was declared to be incompatible with any spiritual 
office. It has been asserted by some writers, that three fourths 
of the clergy were at this time deprived of their livings ; though 
other historians, more accurate, t have estimated the number of 
sufferers to be far short of this proportion. A visitation was 
appointed, in order to restore more perfectly the mass and tho 
ancient rites. Among other articles, the commissioners were 
enjoined to forbid the oath of supremacy to be taken by the 
clergy on their receiving any benefice. $ It is to be observed, 
that this oath had been established by the laws of Henry VIII., 
which were still in force. 

This violent and sudden change of religion inspired the- 
Protestants with great discontent ; and even affected indiffer- 
ent spectators with concern, by the hardships to which so 
many individuals were on that account exposed. But the 
Spanish match was a point of more general concern, and dif- 
fused universal apprehension for the liberty and independence 
of the nation. To obviate all clamor, the articles of marriage 
were drawn as favorable as possible for the interests and 
security, and even grandeur of England. It was agreed, that, 
though Philip should have the title of king, the administration 

* Mem. Cranm. p. 354. Heylin, p. 50. 
t Harmer, p. 138. 

j Collier, vol. ii. p. 361. Fox, vol iii. p. 38. Heylin, p. 35 Si«i 
den, lib xxv. 



A.D. ]551j Mary. 401 

should be entirely in the queen ; that no foreigner should be 
capable of enjoying any office in the kingdom ; that no inno- 
vation should be made in the English laws, customs, and priv- 
ileges : that Philip should not carry the queen abroad without 
her consent, nor any of her children without the consent oi 
the nobility; that sixty thousand pounds a year should bo 
settled as her jointure ; that the male issue of this marriage 
should inherit, together with England, both Burgundy and the 
Low Countries ; and that if Don Carlos, Philip's son by his 
former marriage, should die, and his line be extinct, the 
queen's issue, whether male or female, should inherit Spain, 
Sicily, Milan, and all the other dominions of Philip.* Such 
was the treaty of marriage signed by Count Egmont and three 
other ambassadors sent over to England by the emperor. t 

These articles, when published, gave no satisfaction to the 
nation. It was universally said, that the emperor, in order to 
get possession of England, would verbally agree to any terms ; 
and the greater advantage there appeared in the conditions 
which he granted, the more certainly might it be concluded 
that he had no serious intention of observing them : that the 
usual fraud and ambition of that monarch might assure the 
nation of such a conduct : and his son Philip, while he inherited 
these vices from his father, added to them tyranny, sullenness, 
pride, and barbarity, more dangerous vices of his own : that 
England would become a province, and a province to a king- 
dom which usually exercised the most violent authority over 
all her dependent dominions : that the Netherlands, Milan, 
Sicily, Naples, groaned under the burden of Spanish tyranny ; 
and throughout all the new conquests in America there had 
been displayed scenes of unrelenting cruelty, hitherto unknown 
in the history of mankind : that the inquisition was a tribunal 
invented by that tyrannical nation, and would infallibly, with 
all their other laws and institutions, be introduced into Eng- 
land : and that the divider sentiments of the people with 
regard to religion would subject multitudes to this iniquitous 
tribunal, and would reduce the whole nation to the most abject 
cervitude.J 

These complaints being diffused every where, prepared the 
^«eople for a rebellion ; and had any foreign power given 



* Rymer, vol. xv. p. 377. 

t Depeches de Noailles, vol. ii. p. 299. 

t H«ylin, p. 32. Burnet. v)l. ii. p. 2GS„ Godwin, p. 339. 



402 HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A. D. 1554 

them encouragement, or any great man appeared to head 
them, the consequence might have proved fatal to the queen's 
authority But the king of France, though engaged in hostili- 
ties with the emperor, refused to concur in any proposal for 
in insurrection, lest he should afford Mary a pretence for 
declaring war against him.'* And the more prudent part of 
the nobility thought that, as the evils of the Spanish alliance 
were only dreaded at a distance, matters were not yet fully 
prepared for a general revolt. Some persons, however, more 
turbulent than the rest, believed that it would be safer to 
prevent than to redress grievances ; and they formed a con- 
spiracy to rise in arms, and declare against the queen's mar- 
riage with Philip. Sir Thomas Wiat purposed to raise Kent ; 
Sir Peter Carew, Devonshire ; and they engaged the duke of 
Suffolk, by the hopes of recovering the crown for the lady 
Jane, to attempt raising the midland counties. t Carew's im- 
patience or apprehensions engaged him to break the concert, 
and to rise in arms before the day appointed. He was soon 
suppressed by the earl of Bedford, and constrained to fly into 
France. On this intelligence, Suffolk, dreading an arrest, 
suddenly left the town with his brothers, Lord Thomas and 
Lord Leonard Gray, and endeavored to raise the people in 
the counties of Warwick and Leicester, where his interest lay ;. 
but he was so closely pursued by the earl of Huntingdon, at 
the head of three hundred horse, that he was obliged to dis- 
perse his followers, and being discovered in his concealment, 
he was carried prisoner to London. J Wiat was at first more 
successful in his attempt ; and having published a declaration, 
at Maidstone in Kent, against the queen's evil counsellors, and 
against the Spanish match, without any mention of religion, 
the people began to flock to his standard. The duke of Nor- 
folk, with Sir Henry Jernegan, was sent against him, at the 
head of the guards and some other troops, reenfbrced with 
five hundred Londoners commanded by Bret : and he came 
within sight of the rebels at Rochester, where they had fixed 
their head-quarters. Sir George Harper here pretended to 
desert from them ; but having secretly gained Bret, these two 
malecontents so wrought on the Londoners, that the whole 
body deserted to Wiat, and declared that they would not con- 



* Depeches de Noailles, vd ii. p. 249; vol. iii. p. 17, A8. 
t Heylin, p. 33. Godwin, p. 340. 
J Fox, vol. iii. p. 30. 



A. D. 1554.] mary. 4U3 

tribute to enslave their native country. Norfolk, dreading tho 
contagion of the example, immediately retreated with hifl 
troops, and took shelter in the city.* 

After this pnxf of the disposition of the people, especially 
of the Londoners, who were mostly Protestants, Wiat was en- 
couraged to proceed; he led his ibrces to Southwark, where 
he required of the queen that she should put the Tower into 
his hands, should deliver four counsellors as hostages, and in 
order to insure the liberty of the nation, should immediately 
marry an Englishman. Finding that the bridge was secured 
against him, and that the city was overawed, he marched up 
to Kingston, where he passed the river with four thousand 
men ; and returning towards London, hoped to encourage his 
partisans who had engaged to declare for him. He had im- 
prudently wasted so much time at Southwark, and in his 
march from Kingston, that the critical season, on which all 
popular commotions depend, was entirely lost : though he 
entered Westminster without resistance, his followers, finding 
tbat no person of note joined him, insensibly fell off, and he 
was at last seized near Temple Bar by Sir Maurice Berkeley. t 
Four hundred persons are said to have suffered for this rebel- 
lion : t four hundred more were conducted before the queen 
with ropes about their necks : and falling on their knees, 
received a pardon, and were dismissed. Wiat was condemned 
and executed : as it had been reported that, on his examina- 
tion, he had accused the lady Elizabeth and the earl of Devon- 
shire as accomplices, he took care, on the scaffold, before the 
whole people, fully to acquit thern of having any share in his 
rebellion. 

The lady Elizabeth had been, during some time, treated 
with great harshness by her sister ; and many studied instan- 
ces of discouragement and disrespect had been practised 
against her. She was ordered to take place at court after the 
countess of Lenox and the duchess of Suffolk, as if she were 
not legitimate : § her friends were discountenanced on every 
occasion : and while her virtues, which were now become 
eminent, drew to her the attendance of all the young nobility, 

* Heylin, p. 33. Godwin, p. 341. Stowe, p. 610. Baker, p. 318 
IJoh.gshed, p. 1004. 

1 Fox, vol. iii. p. 31. Heylin, p. 34. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 870 
Stowe, p. 021. 

} Depeches de Noailles. vol. iii. p. 124. 

§ Depeches de Noaillesj vol. ii. p. 273, 288. 



404 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1554 

and rendered her the favorite of the nation ; * the malevolence 
of the queen still discovered itself every day by fresh symp- 
toms, and obliged the princess to retire into the country. 
Mary seized the opportunity of this rebellion ; and hoping tc 
involve her sister in some appearance of guilt, sent for her 
under a strong guard, committed her to the Tower, and ordered 
her to be strictly examined by the council. But the public 
declaration made by Wiat rendered it impracticable to employ 
against her any false evidence which might have offered ; and 
the princess made so good a defence, that the queen found 
herself under a necessity of releasing her.t In order to send 
her out of the kingdom, a marriage was offered her with the 
duke of Savoy ; and when she declined the proposal, she was 
committed to custody under a strong guard at Wodestoke. X 
The earl of Devonshire, though equally innocent, was con- 
fined in Fotheringay Castle. 

But this rebellion proved still more fatal to the lady Jane 
Gray, as well as to her husband ; the duke of Suffolk's guilt 
was imputed to her ; and though the rebels and malecontents 
seemed chiefly to rest their hopes on the lady Elizabeth and 
the earl of Devonshhe, the queen, incapable of generosity or 
clemency, determined to remove every person from whom the 
least danger could be apprehended. Warning was given the 
lady Jane to prepare lor death ; a doom which she had long 
expected, and which the innocence of her life, as well as the 
misfortunes to which she had been exposed, rendered nowise 
unwelcome to her. The queen's zeal, under color of tender 
mercy to the prisoner's soul, induced her to send divines, who 
harassed her with perpetual disputation ; and even a reprieve 
for three days was granted her, in hopes that she would be per- 
suaded during that time to pay, by a timely conversion, some 
regard to her eternal welfare. The lady Jane had presence 
of mind, in those melancholy circumstances, not only to de- 
fend her religion by all the topics then in use, but also to write 
a letter to her sister $ in the Greek language ; in which, besides 
sending her a copy of the Scriptures in that tongue, she ex- 
horted her to maintain, in every fortune, a like steady perse- 
verance. On the day of her execution her husband, Lord 



'* Depcches de Noailles, vol. iii. p. 273. 

t Godwin, p. 343. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 273. Fox, vol iii. p. 99, 10S 
Strypes Mem. vol. iii. p. 85. 

t Depcches de Noailles, vi I. iii. p. 226- 
$ Fox, vol. iii. p. 35. Heylin, p. 166. 



A. D. 1554.] mary. 405 

Guildford, desired permission to see her ; but she refused het 
consent, and informed him by a message, that the tenderness 
of their parting would overcome the fortitude of both, and would 
too much unbend their minds from that constancy which their 
approaching end required of them : their separation, she said, 
would be only for a moment; and they would soon rejoin each 
other in a scene where their affections would be forever united, 
md where death, disappointment, and misfortunes, could no 
•onger have access to them, or disturb their eternal felicity.* 

It had been intended to execute the lady Jane and Lord 
Guildford together on the same scaffold at. Tower Hill ; but the 
council, dreading the compassion of the people for their youth, 
beauty, innocence, and noble birth, changed their orders, and 
gave directions that she should be beheaded within the verge 
of the Tower. She saw her husband led to execution ; and 
having given him from the window some token of her remem- 
brance, she waited with tranquillity till her own appointed 
hour should bring her a like fate. She even saw his head- 
less body carried back in a cart ; and found herself more con- 
firmed by the reports which she heard of the constancy of his 
end, than shaken by so tender and melancholy a spectacle. 
Sir John Gage, constable of the Tower, when he led her to 
execution, desired her to bestow on him some small present, 
which he might keep as a perpetual memorial of her : she 
gave him her table-book, on which she had just written three 
sentences on seeing her husband's dead body; one in Greek, 
another in Latin, a third in English.'!" The purport of them 
was, that human justice was against his body, but divine mercy 
would be favorable to his soul ; that if her fault deserved pun 
ishment, her youth at least, and her imprudence, were worthy 
of excuse ; and that God and posterity, she trusted, would 
show her favor. On the scaffold she made a speech to the 
bystanders ; in which the mildness of her disposition led her 
to take the blame wholly on herself, without uttering one com- 
plaint against the severity with which she had been treated 
She said, that her offence was not the having laid her hand 
upon the crown, but the not rejecting it with sufficient con- 
stancy ; that she had less erred through ambition than 
through reverence to her parents, whom she had been taught 
to respect and obey : that she willingly received death, as the 
only satisfaction which she could now make to the injured 



* HeylLn, p. 167 Faker, p. 319. t Heyliu, p. 161 



400 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [ A. D 1554. 

state ; and though her infringement of the laws had heen con- 
strained, she would show, by her voluntary submission to their 
sentence, that she was desirous to atone for that disobedience 
into which too much filial piety had betrayed her : that she 
had justly deserved this punishment for being made the instru- 
ment, though the unwilling instrument, of the ambition of 
others ; and that the story of her life, she hoped, might at 
least be useful, by proving that innocence excuses not great 
misdeeds, if they tend anywise to the destruction of the com 
monvvealth. After uttering these words, she caused herself to 
be disrobed by her women ; and with a steady, serene counte- 
nance submitted herself to the executioner.* 

The duke of Suffolk was tried, condemned, and executed 
soon after ; and would have met with more compassion, had 
not his temerity been the cause of his daughter's untimely 
end. Lord Thomas Gray lost his life for the same crime. 
Sir Nicholas Throgmorton was tried in Guildhall ; but there 
appearing no satisfactory evidence against him, he was able, 
by making an admirable defence, to obtain a verdict of the 
jury in his favor. The queen was so enraged at this disap- 
pointment, that, instead of releasing him as the law required, 
she recommitted him to the Tower, and kept him in close con- 
finement during some time. But her resentment stopped not 
here : the jury, being summoned before the council, were all 
sent to prison, and afterwards fined, some of them a thousand 
pounds, others two thousand apiece, t This violence proved 
fatal to several ; among others to Sir John Throgmorton, 
brother to Sir Nicholas, who was condemned on no better 
evidence than had formerly been rejected. The queen filled 
the Tower and all the prisons with nobility and gentry, whom 
their interest with the nation, rather than any appearance of 
guilt, had made the object of her suspicion ; and finding that, 
she was universally hated, she determined to disable the peo- 
ple from resistance, by ordering general musters, and directing 
the commissioners to seize their arms, and lay them up in 
forts and castles. J 

Though the government labored under so general an odium, 
the queen's authority had received such an increase from thfl 

•* Heylin, p. 167. Fox, vol. iii. p. 36, 37. Holingshed, p. 1099. 

f Fox, vol. iii. p. 99. Stowe, p. 624. Baker, p. 32J. Holingshed 
p. 1104, 1121. Strype, vol. iii. p. 120. Dep. do Noaille.s, vcl. iii 
p 173. 

} Dep. de Noaille?, vol. iii. p. 98. 



A.D.J 554.] mary. 407 

suppression of Wiat's rebellion, that the ministry hoped to find 
a. compliant disposition in the new parliament which was sum- 
moned to assemble. The emperor also, in order to facilitate 
the same end, had borrowed no less a sum than four hundred 
thousand crowns, which he had sent over to England to be 
distributed in bribes and pensions among the members : a per- 
nicious practice, of which there had not hitherto been any 
instance in England. And not to give the public any alarm 
with regard to the church lands, the queen, notwithstanding 
her bigotry, resumed her title of supreme head of the church, 
which she had dropped three months before. Gardiner, the 
chancellor, opened the session by a speech ; in which he 
asserted the queen's hereditary title to the crown ; maintained 
her right of choosing a husband for herself; observed how 
proper a use she had made of that right, by giving the prefer- 
ence to an old ally, descended from the house of Burgundy ; 
and remarked the failure of Henry VIIL's posterity, of whom 
there now remained none but the queen and the lady Eliza- 
beth. He added, that, in order to obviate the inconveniencies 
which might arise from different pretenders, it was necessary 
to invest the queen, by law, with a power of disposing of the 
crown, and of appointing her successor : a power, he said, 
which was not to be thought unprecedented in England, since 
it had formerly been conferred on Henry VIII.* 

The parliament was much disposed to gratify the queen in 
all her desires ; but when the liberty, independency, and 
very being of the nation were in such visible danger, they 
could not by any means be brought to compliance. They 
knew both the inveterate hatred which she bore to the lady 
Elizabeth, and her devoted attachment to the house of Austria : 
they were acquainted with her extreme bigotry, which would 
lead her to postpone all considerations of justice or national 
interest to the establishment of the Catholic religion : they 
remarked, that Gardiner had carefully avoided in his speech 
the giving to Elizabeth the appellation of the queen's sister ; 
and they thence concluded that a design was formed of ex- 
cluding her as illegitimate : they expected that Mary, if invested 
with such a power as she required, would make a will in her 
husband's favor, and thereby render England forever a prov- 
ince to the Spanish monarchy ; and they were the more alarmed 
with these projects, as they heard that Phi lip's descent from 

p— r ... 

* Dcpechc i de Nciailles. 



408 HISTOE.T! )F ENGLAND. [A, D. 1554 

the house of Lancaster was carefully insisted on, and that he 
was publicly represented as the true and only heir by right of 
inheritance. 

The parliament, therefore, aware of their danger, were 
determined to keep at a distance from the precipice which 
lay before them. They could not avoid ratifying the articles 
of marriage,* which were drawn veiy favorable for England ; 
but they declined the passing of any such law as the chancel- 
lor pointed out to them: they would not so much as declare 
it treason to imagine or attempt the death of the queen's hus- 
band while she was alive ; and a bill introduced for that pur- 
pose was laid aside after the first reading. The more effectu- 
ally to cut off Philip's hopes of possessing any authority in 
England, they passed a law in which they declared, " that her 
majesty, as their only queen, should solely, and as a sole 
queen, enjoy the crown and sovereignty of her realms, with 
all the preeminences, dignities, and rights thereto belonging, 
in as large and ample a manner after her marriage as before, 
without any title or claim accruing to the prince of Spain, 
either as tenant by courtesy of the realm, or by any other 
means, "t 

A law passed in this parliament for reelecting the bishopric 
of Durham, which had been dissolved by the last parliament 
of Edward. t The queen had already, by an exertion of her 
power, put Tonstal in possession of that see : but though it 
was usual at that time for the crown to assume authority which 
might seem entirely legislative, it was always deemed more 
safe and satisfactory to procure the sanction of parliament. 
Bills were introduced for suppressing heterodox opinions con- 
tained in books, and for reviving the law of the six articles, 
together with those against the Lollards, and against heresy 
and erroneous preaching ; but none of these laws could pass 
the two houses : a proof that the parliament had reserves even 
in their concessions with regard to religion ; about which they 
seem to have been less scrupulous. The queen, therefore, 
finding that they would not serve all her purposes, finished the 
session by dissolving them. 

Mary's thoughts were now entirely employed about receiv- 
ing Don Philip, whose arrival she hourly expected. This prin- 
sess, who had lived so many years in a very reserved and 



* 1 Mar. Pari. 2, cap. 2. r 1 Mar. Par) 2, cap. 1. 

} 1 Mar. Pari. 2. cap. 3. 



A. D. 1554.] mary. 409 

private manner, without any prospect or hopes of a husband, 
was so smitten with affection for her young consort, whom 
she had never seen, that she waited with the utmost impatience 
for the completion of the marriage ; and every obstacle was 
to her a source of anxiety and discontent.* She complained 
of Philip's delays as affected ; and she could not conceal her 
vexation, that, though she brought him a' kingdom as her 
dowry, he treated her with such neglect, that he had never 
vet favored her with a single letter.f Her fondness was but 
the more increased by this supercilious treatment ; and when 
she found that her subjects had entertained the greatest aver- 
sion for the event to which she directed her fondest wishes, 
she made the whole English nation the object of her resent- 
ment. A squadron, under the command of Lord Effingham, 
had been fitted out to convoy Philip from Spain, where he 
then resided ; but the admiral informing her, that the discon- 
tents ran very high among the seamen, and that it was not 
safe for Philip to intrust himself in their hands, she gave 
orders to dismiss them. J She then dreaded, lest the French 
fleet, being masters of the sea, might intercept her husband ; 
and every rumor of danger, every blast of wind, threw her 
into panics and convulsions. Her health, and even her under- 
standing, were visibly hurt by this extreme impatience ; and 
she was struck with a new apprehension lest her person, 
impaired by time, and blasted by sickness, should prove dis- 
agreeable to her future consort. Her glass discovered to her 
how haggard she was become ; and when she remarked the 
decay of her beauty, she knew not whether she ought more 
tc desire or apprehend the arrival of Philip. $ 

At last came the moment so impatiently expected ; and 
n.iws was brought the queen of Philip's arrival at Southamp- 
ton. || A few days after, they were married at Westminster ; 
and having made a pompous entry into London, where Philip 
displayed his wealth with great ostentation, she carried him to 

* Strype, vol. iii. p. 125. 

t Depeches tie Noailles, vol. iii. p. 248. 

t Depeches de Noailles, vol. iii. p. 220. 

\ Depeches de Noailles. vol. iii. p. 222, 252, 253 

il Fox. vol. iii. p. 99. Heylin, p. 39. Burnet, vol. iii. p. 392. God- 
win, p. 345. We are told by Sir William Monson, p. 225, that the* 
admiral of England tired at the Spanish navy when Philip was on 
board, because they had not lowered their topsails, as a mark of def- 
erence to the English navy in the narrow seas : a very spirited be- 
havior, and very unlike those times. % 
Vx>I.. III. — S 



410 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1504 

Windsor, the palace in which they afterwards resided. The 
prince's behavior was ill calculated to remove the prejudices 
which the English nation had entertained against him. He 
was distant and reserved in his address ; took no notice of the 
salutes even of the most considerable noblemen ; and so 
intrenched himself in form and ceremony, that he was in 
a manner inaccessible : * but this circumstance rendered him 
the more acceptable to the queen, who desired to have no 
company but her husband's, and who was impatient when 
she met with any interruption to her fondness. The shortest 
absence gave her vexation ; and when he showed civilities to 
any other woman, she could not conceal her jealousy and re- 
sentment. 

Mary soon found that Philip's ruling passion was ambition ; 
and that the only method of gratifying him and securing his. 
affections, was to render him master of England. The inter- 
est and liberty of her people were considerations of small 
moment, in comparison of her obtaining this favorite point. 
She summoned a new parliament, in hopes of finding them 
entirely compliant ; and that she might acquire the greater 
authority over them, she imitated the precedent of the former 
reign, and wrote circular letters, directing a px^oper choice of 
members. t The zeal of the Catholics, the influence of Span- 
ish gold, the powers of prerogative, the discouragement of 
the gentry, particularly of the Protestants ; all these causes., 
seconding the intrigues of Gardiner, had procured her a house 
of commons which was in a great measure to her satisfaction , 
and it was thought, from the disposition of the nation, thai 
she might now safely omit, on her assembling the parliament 
the title of "supreme head of the church," though inseparably 
annexed by law to the crown of England. $ Cardinal Pole 
had arrived in Flanders, invested with lcgatine powers from 
the pope : in order to prepaie the way for his arrival in Eng- 
land, the parliament passed an act reversing his attainder, and 
restoring his blood ; and the queen, dispensing with the old 
statute of provisors, granted him permission to act as legate. 
The cardinal came over ; and after being introduced to the 
king and queen, he invited the parliament to reconcile them- 
selves and the kingdom to the apostolic see, from which thej 



* Baker, p. 320. 

+ Mem. ol'Cramm. p. 314. Strype's Eccl. Mem. vol. iii. p. 1-W, 1 3i. 

» Burnet, vol. ii. p. 291. Strype, vol. iii. p. 150. 



A.D. 1554.] mars. 4U 

Had been so long and so unhappily diviued. This message 
was taken in good part ; and both houses voted an address to 
Philip and Mary, acknowledging that they had been guilt} 
of a most horrible defection from the true church ; professing 
a sincere repentance of their past transgressions ; declaring 
their resolution to repeal all laws enacted in prejudice of the 
church of Rome ; and praying their majesties, that since they 
were happily uninfected with that criminal schism, they would 
intercede with the holy father for the absolution and forgiveness 
of their penitent subjects.* The request was easily granted. 
The legate, in the name of his holiness, gave the parliament 
and kingdom absolution, freed them from all censures, and 
eceived them again into the bosom of the church. The 
pope, then Julius III., being informed of these transactions, 
said that it was an unexampled ..instance of his felicity, to 
receive thanks from the English, for allowing them to do what 
he ought to give them thanks for performing.! 

Notwithstanding the extreme zeal of those times for and 
against popery, the object always uppermost with the nobility 
and gentry was their money and estates : they were not brought 
to make these concessions in favor of Rome, till they had re- 
ceived repeated assurances, from the pope as well as the queen, 
that the plunder which they had made on the ecclesiastics 
should never be inquired into ; and that the abbey and church 
lands should remain with the present possessors. J But not 
trusting altogether to these promises, the parliament took care, 
in the law itself § by which they repealed the former statutes 
enacted against the pope's authority, to insert a clause, in which 
besides bestowing validity on all marriages celebrated during 
the schism, and fixing the right of incumbents to their benefices, 
they gave security to the possessors of church lands, and freed 
them from all danger of ecclesiastical censures. The convoca- 
tion also, in order to remove apprehensions on that head, were 
induced to present a petition to the same purpose ; || and the 
legate, in his master's name, ratified all these transactions. It 
now appeared that, notwithstanding the eflbrts of the queen 
and king, the power of the papacy was effectually suppressed 



* Fox, vol. iii. p. 3. Heylin, p. 42. Burnet, vcl. ii. p. 293. God 

win, p. 247. f Father Pau.', lib. iv. 

t Heylin, p. 41. § 1 and 2 Phil and Mar. c. S. 

II Hevlin, p. 43. 1 and 2 Phil, and Mar. c. 8 Strvpe. vol. iii 
p. 159. 



IV2 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D, 1554 

ui England, and invincible barriers fixed against its reestablish 
ment. For though the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastics was for 
the present restored, their property, on which their power much 
depended, was irretrievably lost, and no hopes remained of 
recovering it. Even these arbitrary, powerful, and bigoted 
princes, while the transactions were yet recent, could not re- 
gain to the church her possessions so lately ravished from her ; 
and no expedients were left to the clergy for enriching them- 
selves, but those which they had at first practised, and Avhich 
had required many ages of ignorance, barbarism, and supersti- 
tion, to produce their effect on mankind.* 

The parliament, having secured their own possessions, were 
more indifferent with regard to religion, or even to the lives 
of their fellow-citizens : they revived the old sanguinary laws 
against heretics,! which had been rejected in the former par- 
liament : they also enacted several statutes against seditious 
words and rumors; J and they made it treason to imagine or 
attempt the death of Philip during his marriage with the 
queen. $ Each parliament hitherto had been induced to go a 
Etep farther than their predecessors ; but none of them had 
entirely lost all regard to national interests. Their hatred 
against the Spaniards, as well as their suspicion of Philip's 
pretensions, still prevailed ; and though the queen attempted 
to get her husband declared presumptive heir of the crown, 
and to have the administration put into his hands, she failed 
in all her endeavors, and could not so much as procure the 
parliament's consent to his coronation. || All attempts like- 
wise to obtain subsidies from the commons, in order to support 
the emperor in his war against France, proved fruitless : the 
usual animosity and jealousy of the English against that king- 
dom seemed to have given place, for the present, to like pas- 
sions against Spain. Philip, sensible of the prepossessions 
entertained against him, endeavored to acquire popularity by 
procuring the release of several prisoners of distinction ; Lord 
Henry Dudley, Sir George Harper, Sir Nicholas Throgmor- 
ton, Sir Edmond Warner, Sir William St. Lo, Sir Nicholas 
Arnold, Harrington, Tremaine, who had been confined from 



* See note U, at the end of the vo ume. 
t 1 and 2 Phil, and Mar. c. 6. 
j 1 and 2 Phil, and Mar. c. 3, 9. 
§ 1 and 2 Phil, and Mar. c. 10. 
I! Godwin, p. 348. Bake.', p. 322. 



A..D. 1555.J mary. 413 

the suspicions or resentment of the court.* But nothing was 
more agreeable to the nation than his protecting the lady 
Elizabeth from the spite and malice of the queen, and restor- 
ing her to liberty. This measure was not the effect of any 
generosity in Philip, a sentiment of which he was wholly 
destitute ; but of a refined policy, which made him foresee 
that, if that princess were put to death, the next lawful heir 
was the queen of Scots, whose succession would forever annex 
England to the crown of France. The earl of Devonshire 
also reaped some benefit from Philip's affectation of popularity, 
and recovered his liberty : but that nobleman, finding himself 
exposed to suspicion, begged permission to travel;! and he 
soon after died at Padua,* from poison, as is pretended, given 
him by the imperialists. He was the eleventh and last earl 
of Devonshire of that noble family, one of the most illustrious 
in Europe. 

The queen's extreme desire of having issue had made her 
fondly give credit to any appearance of pregnancy ; and when 
the legate was introduced to her, she fancied that she felt 
the embryo stir in her womb, t Her flatterers compared 
this motion of the infant to that of John the Baptist, who 
leaped in his mother's belly at the salutation of the Virgin. $ 
Despatches were immediately sent to inform foreign courts of 
this event : orders were issued to give public thanks : great 
rejoicings were made ; the family of the young prince was 
already settled ; II for the Catholics held themselves assured 
that the child was to be a male : and Bonner, bishop of Lon- 
don, made public prayers be said, that heaven would please 
to render him beautiful, vigorous, and witty. But the nation 
still remained somewhat incredulous ; and men were per- 
suaded that the queen labored under infirmities which ren- 
dered her incapable of having children. Her infant proved 
only the commencement of a dropsy, which the disoidered 
state of her health had brought upon her. The belief, how- 
ever, of her pregnancy was upheld with all possible care ; and 
was one artifice by which Philip endeavored to support hia 
authority in the kingdom. [1555.] The parliament passed 
a law, which, in case of the queen's demise, appointed hirn 

* Heylin, p. 39. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 2S7. Stowe, p. 626. Depeches 
it Noailles, vol. iv. p. 146, 147. 
t Heylin, p. 40. Godwin, p. 349. 
t Depeches de Noailles, vol. iv. p. 25. 
§ Burnet, vol. ii. p. 292. Godwin, p. 348. Jj Heylin, p. 46 



814 HISTORY OF ENGLANP. [A. D. 1555 

protector during the minority ; and the king and queen, find- 
ing they could obtain no further concessions, came unexpect- 
edly to Westminster, and dissolved them. 

There happened an incident this session which must not ba 
passed over in silence. Several members of the lower house, 
dissatisfied with the measures of the parliament, but finding 
themselves unable to prevent them, made a secession, in order 
to show their disapprobation, and refused any longer to attend 
the house.* For this instance of contumacy they were indicted 
in the king's bench, after the dissolution of parliament : six 
of them submitted to the mercy of the court, and paid their 
fines : the rest traversed ; and the queen died before the affair 
was brought to an issue. Judging of the matter by the sub- 
sequent claims of the house of commons, and, indeed, by the 
true principles of free government, this attempt of the queen's 
ministers must be regarded as a breach of privilege ; but it 
gave little umbrage at the time, and was never called in ques 
tion by any house of commons which afterwards sat during 
this reign. The count of Noailles, the French ambassador, 
says that the queen threw several members into prison foi 
their freedom of speech. t 

* Coke's Institutes, part iv. p. 17. Strype's Memor. vol. i. p. 185 
| VoL*. p. 286. 



a L> 1653-1 arAEY. 410 



CHAPTER XXXVII 

MARY. 

[1555.] The success which Gardiner, from his cautious 
and prudent conduct, had met with in governing the parlia- 
ment, and engaging them to concur both in the Spanish match 
and in the reestablishment of the ancient religion, — two points 
to which, it was believed, they bore an extreme aversion, — had 
so raised his character for wisdom and policy, that his opinion 
was received as an oracle in the council ; and his authority, as 
it was always great in his own party, no longer suffered any 
opposition or control. Cardinal Pole himself, though more 
beloved on account of his virtue and candor, and though su- 
perior in birth and station, had not equal weight in public 
deliberations ; and while his learning, piety, and humanity 
were extremely respected, he was represented more as a good 
man than a great minister. A very important question was 
frequently debated before the queen and council by these two 
ecclesiastics ; whether the laws lately revived against heretics 
should be put hi execution, or should only be employed to re- 
strain by terror the bold attempts of these zealots. Pole was 
very sincere in his religious principles ; and though his modera- 
tion had made him be suspected at Pwome of a tendency to- 
wards Lutheranism, he was seriously persuaded of the CathoUc 
doctrines, and thought that no consideration of human policy 
ought ever to come in competition with such important inter- 
ests. Gardiner, on the contrary, had always made his religion 
subservient to his schemes of safety or advancement ; and 
by his unlimited complaisance to Henry, he had shown that, 
had he not been pushed to extremity under the late minority, 
he was sufficiently disposed to make a sacrifice of his princi- 
ples to the established theology. This was the well-known 
character of these two great counsellors ; yet such is the prev- 
alence of temper above system, that the benevolent disposition 
of Pole led him to advise a toleration of the heretical tenets, 
which he highly blamed ; while the severe manners of Gar- 
diner inclined him to support by persecution tha". religion 



5H" HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A D. 1555 

which, at the bottom, he regarded with great indifference.* 
This circumstance of public conduct was of the highest im- 
portance ; and from being the object of deliberation in the 
council, it soon became the subject of discourse throughout the 
nation. We shall relate, in a few words, the topics by which 
each side supported, or might have supported, their scheme of 
policy ; and shall display the opposite reasons which have been 
employed, with regard to an argument that ever has been, and 
ever will be, so much" canvassed. 

The practice of persecution, said the defenders of Pole's 
opinion, is the scandal of all religion ; and the theological 
animosity, so fierce and violent, far from being an argument of 
men's conviction in their opposite sects, is a certain proof that 
they have never reached any serious persuasion with regard 
to these remote and sublime subjects. Even those who are 
the most impatient of contradiction in other controversies, are 
mild and moderate in comparison of polemical divines ; and 
wherever a man's knowledge and experience give him a Bei;- 
fect assurance in his own opinion, he regards with contempt, 
rather than anger, the opposition and mistakes of others, liut 
while men zealously maintain what they neither clearly com- 
prehend nor entirely believe, they are shaken in their inw/jined 
faith by the opposite persuasion, or even doubts, of other men ; 
and vent on their antagonists that impatience which is the 
natural result of so disagreeable a state of the undersl ending. 
They then easily embrace any pretence for representing oppo- 
nents as impious and profane ; and if they can also find a 
color for connecting this violence with the interest j of civil 
government, they can no longer be restrained from giving un- 
controlled scope to vengeance and resentment, /jut surely 
never enterprise was more unfortunate than that of founding 
persecution upon policy, or endeavoring, for the sake of peace, 
to settle an entire uniformity of opinion in questions which, of 
all others, are least subjected to the criterion of human reason. 
The universal and uncontradicted prevalence of one opinion in 
religious subjects, can be owing at first to the stupid ignorance 
alone and barbarism of the people, who never indulge them- 
selves in any speculation or inquiry ; and there is no expe- 
dient for maintaining that uniformity so fondly sought after, 
but by banishing forever all mriosity, and all improve- 
ment in science and cultivation. It may not indeed appear 

* Heylin, p. 47. 



A. D. 1555.] mary. 417 

difficult to check, by a steady severity, the first beginnings of 
controversy ; but besides that this policy exposes forever the 
people to all the abject terrors of superstition, and the magis- 
trate to the endless encroachments of ecclesiastics, it also 
renders men so delicate that they can never endure to hear 
of opposition ; and they will some time pay dearly for that 
false tranquillity in which they have been so long indulged. 
As healthful bodies are ruined by too nice a regimen, and are 
thereby rendered incapable of bearing the unavoidable inci- 
dents of human liie, a people who never were allowed to 
imagine that their principles could be contested, fly out into 
the most outrageous violence when any event (and such events 
are common) produces a faction among their clergy, and gives 
rise to any difference in tenet or opinion. But whatever may 
be said in favor of suppressing, by persecution, the first begin- 
nings of heresy, no solid argument can be alleged for extend- 
ing severity towards multitudes, or endeavoring, by capital 
punishments, to extirpate an opinion which has diffused itself 
among men of every rank and station. Besides the extreme 
barbarity of such an attempt, it commonly proves ineffectual 
to the purpose intended, and serves only to make men more 
obstinate in their persuasion, and to increase the number of 
their proselytes. The melancholy with which the fear of 
death, torture, and persecution inspires the sectaries, is the 
proper disposition for fostering religious zeal : the prospect of 
eternal rewards, when brought near, overpowers the dread of 
temporal punishments : the glory of martyrdom stimulates all 
the more furious zealofe, especially the leaders and preachers • 
where a violent animosity is excited by oppression, men natu 
rally pass from hating the persons of their tyrants to a more 
violent abhorrence of their doctrines : and the spectators, 
moved with pity toward the supposed martyrs, are easily 
seduced to embrace those principles which can inspire met 1 
with a constancy that appears almost supernatural. Open the 
door to toleration, mutual hatred relaxes among the sectaries ; 
their attachment to their particular modes of religion decays ; 
the common occupations and pleasures of life succeed to the 
acrimony of disputation ; and the same man who, in other cir- 
cumstances, would have braved flames and tortures, is induced 
to change his sect from the smallest prospect of favor and 
advancement, or even from the frivolous hope of becoming 
more fashionable in his principles. If any exception can be 
admitted to this maxin of toleration, it will only be where a 



4)8 HISIORY OF ENGLAND. f A. D. 1555 

theology altogether new, nowise connected with the ancient 
religion of the state, is imported from foreign countries, and 
may easily, at one hlow, be eradicated, without leaving the 
seeds of future innovation. But as this exception would imply 
some apology for the ancient pagan persecutions, or for the 
extirpation of Christianity in China and Japan, it ought surely, 
on account of this detested consequence, to be rather buried in 
eternal silence and oblivion. 

Though these arguments appear entirely satisfactory, yet 
such is the subtlety of human wit, that Gardiner and the other 
enemies to toleration were not reduced to silence ; and they 
still found topics on which to maintain the controversy. The 
doctrine, said they, of liberty of conscience, is founded on the 
most flagrant impiety, and supposes such an indifference 
among all religions, such an obscurity in theological doctrines, 
as to render the church and magistrate incapable of distinguish- 
ing with certainty the dictates of Heaven from the mere fictions 
of human imagination. If the Divinity reveals principles to 
mankind, he will surely give a criterion by which they may 
be ascertained ; and a prince who knowingly allows these 
principles to be perverted or adulterated, is infinitely more 
criminal than if he gave permission for the vending of poison, 
under the shape of food, to all his subjects. Persecution may. 
indeed, seem better calculated to make hypocrites than con- 
certs ; but experience teaches us, that the habits of hypocrisy 
Jten turn into reality ; and the children, at least, ignorant of 
the dissimulation of their parents, may happily be educated in 
more orthodox tenets. It is absurd, ir^opposition to considera- 
tions of such unspeakable importance, to plead the temporal 
and frivolous interests of civil society ; and if matters be 
thoroughly examined, even that topic will not appear so uni- 
versally certain in favor of toleration as by some it is repre- 
sented. Where sects arise whose fundamental principle on 
all sides is to execrate, and abhor, and damn, and extirpate 
each other, what choice has the magistrate left but to take 
part, and by rendering one sect entirely prevalent, restore, at 
least for a time, the public tranquillity ? The political body, 
being here sickly, must not be treated as if it were in a state 
of sound health ; and an affected neutrality in the prince, or 
even a cool preference, may serve only to encourage the 
hopes of all the sects, and keep alive their animosity. The 
Protestants, far from tolerating the religion of their ancestors, 
regard it as an impious and detestable idolatry ; and during 



A.D. 1555. j 



4'S 



the late minority, when they were entirely masters, they enact 
ed very severe, though not capital punishments against all ex 
ercise of the Catholic worship, and even against such as barely 
abstained from their profane rites and sacraments. Nor are 
instances wanting of their endeavors to secure an imagined 
orthodoxy by the most rigorous executions : Calvin has burned 
Servetus at Geneva ; Cranmer brought Arians and Anabap- 
tists to the stake ; and if persecution of any kind be admitted, 
the most bloody and violent will surely be allowed the most 
justifiable, as the most effectual. Imprisonments, fines, con- 
fiscations, whippings, serve only to irritate the sects, without 
disabling them from resistance : but the stake, the wheel, and 
the gibbet, must soon terminate in the extirpation or banish- 
ment of all the heretics inclined to give disturbance, and in the 
entire silence and submission of the rest. 

The arguments of Gardiner, being more agreeable to the 
cruel bigotry of Mary and Philip, were better received ; and 
though Pole pleaded, as is affirmed,* the advice of the em- 
peror, who recommended it to his daughter-in-law not to exer- 
cise violence against the Protestants, and desired her to con- 
sider his own example, who, after endeavoring through his 
whole life to extirpate heresy, had in the end reaped nothing 
but confusion and disappointment, the scheme of toleration 
was entirely rejected. It was determined to let loose the laws 
in their full vigor against the reformed religion ; and England 
was soon filled with scenes of horror, which have ever since 
rendered the Catholic religion the object of general detestation, 
and which prove, that no human depravity can equal revenge 
and cruelty covered with the mantle of religion. 

The persecutors began with Rogers, prebendary of St. 
Paul's, a man eminent in his party for virtue as well as for 
learning. Gardiner's plan was first to attack men of that 
character, whom, he hoped, terror would bend to submission, 
and whose example, either of punishment or recantation, would 
naturally have influence on the multitude : but he found a per- 
severance and courage in Rogers, which it may seem strange 
to find in human uature, and of which all ages and all secta 
do nevertheless furnish many examples. Rogers, beside the 



P^" , **»"WWB| 



* Burnet, vol. i : . Heylin, p. 47. 
Charles gave any eu«h advice; for Ik 
proceeding with great violence in pei 
Jcrs. Ber.uvo^lio, iiart i. lib. i. 



!r is not likely, however, that 
himself was, at this very time, 
■renting the reformed in Flan 



420 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1555 

care of Vis own preservation, lay under other powerful tempta* 
♦ions tc compliance : he had a wife whom he tenderly loved 
and ten children ; yet such was his serenity after his condem- 
nation that the jailers, it is said, waked him from a sound sleep 
when the hour of his execution approached. He had desired 
to see his wife before he died ; but Gardiner told him that he 
was a priest, and could not possibly have a wife ; thus joining 
nsult to cruelty. Hogers was burnt in Smithfield.* 

Hooper, bishop of Gloceste r , had been tried at the same 
time with Rogers ; but was sent to his own diocese to tie 
executed. This circumstance was contrived to strike the 
greater terror into his flock ; but it was a source of consola- 
tion to Hooper, who rejoiced in giving testimony, by his death, 
to that doctrine which he had formerly preached among them. 
When he was tied to the stake, a stool was set before him, 
and the queen's pardon laid upon it, which it was still in his 
power to merit by a recantation ; but he ordered it to be re- 
moved, and cheerfully prepared himself for that dreadful pun- 
ishment to which he was sentenced. He suffered it in its full 
severity : the wind, which was violent, blew the flame of the 
reeds from his body : the fagots were green, and did not kindle 
easily : all his lower parts were consumed before his vitals 
were attacked : one of his hands dropped off: with the other 
he continued to beat his breast : he was heard to pray, and to 
exhort the people ; till his tongue, swollen with the violence 
of his agony, could no longer permit him utterance. He was 
three quarters of an hour in torture, which he bore with in 
flexible constancy .1 

Sanders was burned at Coventry : a pardon was also offei- 
ed him ; but he rejected it, and embraced the stake, saying, 
" Welcome the cross of Christ ; welcome everlasting life." 
Taylor, parson of Hadley, was punished by fire in that place, 
surrounded by his ancient friends and parishioners. When 
tied to the stake, he rehearsed a psalm in English : one of his 
guards struck him on the mouth, and bade him speak Latin : 
another, in a rage, gave him a blow on the head with his 
halbert, which happily put an end to his torments. 

There was one Philpot, archdeacon of Winchester, inflamed 
with such zeal for orthodoxy, that having been engaged in 



* Fox, vol. iii. p. 119. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 302. 
t Fox, vol. iii. p. 145, etc. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 302. .Heylin. o. 48 
49 Godwin, p. 349. 



A D. 1555 j mary. 42. 

dispute with an Arian, he spit in his adversary's face, to shew 
the great detestation which he had entertained against that 
heresy. lie afterwards wrote a treatise to j ustify this unman- 
nerly expression of zeal : he said, that he was led to it in 
order to relieve the sorrow conceived from such horrid 
blasphemy, and to signify how unworthy such a miscreant was 
of being admitted into the society of any Christian.* Philpot 
was a Protestant ; and falling now into the hands of people as 
zealous as himself, but more powerful, he was condemned to 
the flames, and suffered at Smithheld. It seems to be almost 
a general rule, that in all religions, except the true, no man 
will suffer martyrdom who would not also inflict it willingly 
on all that differ from him. The same zeal for speculative 
opinions is the cause of both. 

The crime for which almost all the Protestants were con- 
demned, was their refusal to acknowledge the real presence. 
Gardiner, who had vainly expected that a few examples would 
strike a terror into the reformers, finding the work daily multi- 
ply upon him, devolved the invidious office on others, cbf.efly 
on Bonner, a man of profligate manners, and of a brutal char 
acter, who seemed to rejoice in the torments of the unhappy 
sufferers. t He sometimes whipped the prisoners with his own 
hands, till he was tired with the violence of the exercise : he 
tore out the beard of a weaver who refused to relinquish hia 
religion ; and that he might give him a specimen of burning, 
he held his hand to the candle till the sinews and veins shrank 
and burst, t 

It is needless to be particular in enumerating all the cruel- 
ties practised in England during the course of three years that 
these persecutions lasted : the savage barbarity on the one 
hand, and the patient constancy on the other, are so similar in 
all those martyrdoms, that the narrative, little agreeable in 
itself, would never be relieved by any variety. Human nature 
appears not on any occasion so detestable, and at the same 
time so absurd, as in these religious persecutions, which sink 
men below infernal spirits in wickedness, and below the beasts 
in folly. A few instances only may be worth preserving, in 
order, if possible, to warn zealous bigots forever to avoid such 
odious and such fruitless barbarity. 

Ferrar, bishop of St. David's was burned in his own diocese ; 

* Strype, vol. iii. p. 2C1, and Coll. No. 58. 

t Heylin,p. 47 48. J Fox, vol. iii. p. 187. 



A'£a HISTORY OF ENGLAND [A. D. 1555 

and his appeal to Cardinal Pole was not attended to.* Ki«l 
ley, bishop of London, and Latimer, formerly bishop of Wor- 
cester, two prelates celebrated for learning and virtue, perished 
together in the same flames at Oxford, and supported eae^ 
other's constancy by their mutual exhortations. Latimer 
when tied to the stake, called to his companion, " Be of good 
cheer, brother ; we shall this day kindle such a torch in Eng- 
land, as, I trust in God, shall never be extinguished." The 
executioners had been so merciful (for that clemency may more 
naturally be ascribed to them than to the religious zealots) as 
to tie bags of gunpowder about these prelates, in order to put 
a speedy period to their tortures : the explosion immediately 
killed Latimer, who was in extreme old age ; Ridley continued 
alive during some time in the midst of the flames.f 

One Hunter, a young man of nineteen, an apprentice, hav 
ing been seduced by a priest into a dispute, had unwarily de- 
nied the real presence. Sensible of his danger, he immediately 
absconded ; but Bonner, laying hold of his father, threatened 
him with the greatest severities if he did not produce the young 
man to stand his trial. Hunter, hearing of the vexations to 
which his father was exposed, voluntarily surrendered himself 
to Bonner, and was condemned to the flames by that barbar- 
ous prelate. 

Thomas Haukes, when conducted to the stake, agreed with 
his friends, that, if he found the torture tolerable, he would 
make them a signal to that purpose in the midst of the flames. 
His zeal for the cause in which he suffered so supported him, 
that he stretched out his arms, the signal agreed on ; and in 
that posture he expired. + This example, with many others 
of like constancy, encouraged multitudes not only to suffer, bu. 
even to court and aspire to martyrdom. 

The tender sex itself, as they have commonly greater pro- 
pensity to religion, produced many examples of the most in- 
flexible courage in supporting the profession of it against all 
the fury of the persecutors. One execution in particular was 
attended with circumstances which, even at that time, excited 
astonishment by reason of their unusual barbarity. A woman 
in Guernsey, being near the time of her labor when brought 
to the stake, was thrown into such agitation by the torture, thai 



* Fox, vol. iii. pi 216. 

t Burnet, vol. ii p. 318. He> lin, p. 52. 

t Fox, vol. iii. ]i 165. 



A. 1). 1555. J makt. 423 

her oelly burst, and she was delivered in the midst of the 
flames. One of the guards immediately snatched the infant 
from the fire, and attempted to save it ; but a magistrate who 
stood by ordered it to be thrown back ; being determined, he 
said, that nothing should survive which sprang from so obsti- 
nate and heretical a parent.* 

The persons condemned to these punishments were not 
convicted of teaching, or dogmatizing, contrary to the estab- 
lished religion : they were seized merely on suspicion ; and 
articles being offered them to subscribe, they were immedi- 
ately, upon their refusal, condemned to the flames. t These 
instances of barbarity, so unusual in the nation, excited hor- 
ror ; the constancy of the martyrs was the object of admira- 
tion ; and as men have a principle of equity engraven in their 
minds, which even false religion is not able totally to obliter- 
ate, they were shocked to see persons of probity, of honor, of 
pious dispositions, exposed to punishments more severe than 
were inflicted on the greatest ruffians for crimes subversive of 
civil society. To exterminate the whole Protestant party was 
known to be impossible ; and nothing could appear more in- 
iquitous, than to subject to torture the most conscientious and 
courageous among them, and allow the cowards and hypo- 
crites to escape. Each martyrdom, therefore, was equivalent 
to a hundred sermons against Popery ; and men either avoided 
such horrid spectacles, or returned from them full of a violent, 
though secret indignation against the persecutors. Repeated 
orders were sent from the council to quicken the diligence 
of the magistrates in searching out heretics ; and in some 
places the gentry were constrained to countenance by their 
presence those barbarous executions. These acts of violence 
tended only to render the Spanish government daily more 
adious ; and Philip, sensible of the hatred which he incurred, 
endeavored to remove the reproach from himself by a very 
gross artifice : he ordered his confessor to deliver, in his pres- 
ence, a sermon in favor of toleration ; a doctrine somewhat 
extraordinary in the mouth of a Spanish friar. % But the court, 
finding that Bonner, however shameless and savage, would 
not bear alone the whole infamy, soon threw oft' the mask ; 
and the unrelenting temper of the queen, as well as of the 
king, appeared without control. A bold step was even taken 



* Fox, vol. iii. p. 747. Heylin, p. 57. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 337. 
t Burnet, vol. ii. p. 806 t Heylin, p. 56. 



424 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1555 

towards introducing the inquisition into Englaad. As the 
bishop's courts, though extremely arbitrary, and not confined 
by any ordinary forms of law, appeared not to be invested 
with sufficient power, a commission was appointed, \>y author- 
ity of the queen's prerogative, more effectually to extirpate 
heresy. Twenty-one persons were named ; but any three 
were armed with the powers of the whole. The commission 
runs in these terms : " That since many false rumors were 
published among the subjects, and many heretical opinions 
were also spread among them, the commissioners were to 
inquire into those, either by presentments, by witnesses, or any 
other political way they could devise, and to search after all 
heresies ; the bringers in, the sellers, the readers of all heret- 
ical books : they were to examine and punish all misbehaviors 
or negligences in any church or chapel ; and to try all priests 
that did not preach the sacrament of the altar ; all persons 
that did not hear mass, or come to their parish church to 
service, that would not go in processions, or did not take holy 
bread or holy water ; and if they found any that did obstinately 
persist in such heresies, they were to put them into the hands 
of their ordinaries, to be punished according to the spiritual 
laws ; giving the commissioners full power to proceed as their 
discretions and consciences should direct them, and to use all 
such means as they would invent for the searching of the prem- 
ises ; empowering them also to call before them such witnesses 
as they pleased, and to force them to make oath of such things 
as might discover what they sought after." * Some civil pow 
ers were also given the commissioners to punish vagabonds 
and quarrelsome persons. 

To bring the methods of proceeding in England still nearer 
to the practice of the inquisition, letters were written to Lord 
North and others, enjoining them " to put to the torture such 
obstinate persons as would not confess, and there to order 
them at their discretion." t Secret spies, also, and informers 
were employed, according to the practice of that iniquitous 
tribunal. Instructions were given to the justices of peace, 
" that they should call secretly before them one or two hon- 
est persons within their limits, or more, at their discretion, and 
oommand them by oath, or otherwise, that the) shall secretly 
learn and search out such persons as shall evil behave them- 
selves in church, or idly, or shall despise openly by words the 



* Burnet, vol. ii, Coll. 32. t Burnet, vol iii. p. 243 



A.D. 1555.) mary. 425 

king's or queen's proceedings, or go about to make any com- 
motion, or tell any seditious tales or news. And als;> that the 
same persons, so to be appointed, shall declare to Lhe same 
justices of peace the ill behavior of lewd disordered persons, 
whether it shall be for using unlawful games, and such other 
light behavior of such suspected persons ; and that the same 
iuibrmation shall be given secretly to the justices ; and the 
same justices shall call such accused persons before them, and 
examine them, without declaring by whom they were accused. 
And that the same justices shall, upon their examination, pun- 
ish the offenders according as their offences shall appear, upon 
the accusement and examination, by their discretion, either by 
open punishment or by good abearing." * In some respects 
this tyrannical edict even exceeded the oppression of the inqui- 
sition, by introducing into every part of government the same 
iniquities which that tribunal practises for the extirpation of 
heresy only, and which are in some measure necessary, wher- 
ever that end is earnestly pursued. 

But the court had devised a more expeditious and summary 
method of supporting orthodoxy than even the inquisition 
itself. They issued a proclamation against books of heresy, 
treason, and sedition, and declared, " that whosoever had any 
of these books, and did not presently burn them, without read- 
ing them or showing them to any other person, should be 
esteemed rebels, and without any further delay be executed by 
martial law."t From the state of the English government 
during that period, it is not so much the illegality of these 
proceedings, as their violence and their pernicious tendency, 
which ought to be the object of our censure. 

We have thrown together almost all the proceedings agair..st 
heretics, though carried on during a course of three years, that 
we may be obliged as little as possible to return to such shock- 
ing violences and barbarities. It is computed that in that time 
two hundred and seventy-seven persons were brought to the 
stake, besides those who were punished by imprisonment, fines, 
and confiscations. Am 3iig those who suffered by fire were five 
bishops, twenty-one clergymen, eight lay gentlemen, eighty- 
lour tradesmen, one hundred husbandmen, servants, and labor- 
ers, fifty-five women, and four children. This persevering 
cruelty appears astonishing ; yet is it much inferior to what 

* Burnet, vol. iii. p. 246, 247. 

t Burnet, vol. ii. p. 363. Heylin. p. 79. 



426 HUTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1 55f>, 

ms been practiced in other countries. A great author* com- 
putes that, in the Netherlands alone, from the time that the 
edict of Charles V. was promulgated against the reformers, 
there had been fifty thousand persons hanged, beheaded, buried 
alive, or burnt, on account of religion ; and that in France the 
number had also been considerable. Yet in both countries, as 
the same author subjoins, the progress of the new opinions, 
instead of being checked, was rather forwarded by these per 
secutious. 

The burning of heretics was a very natural method of 
reconciling the kingdom to the Romish communion ; and 
little solicitation was requisite to engage the pope to receive 
the strayed flock, from which he reaped such considerable 
profit ; yet was there a solemn embassy sent to Rome, con- 
sisting of Sir Anthony Brown, created Viscount Montacute, 
the bishop of Ely, and Sir Edward Carne, in order to carry 
the submissions of England, and beg to be readmitted into the 
bosom of the Catholic church. t Paul IV., after a short inter- 
val, now filled the papal chair ; the most haughty pontiff that 
during several ages had been elevated to that dignity. He 
was offended that Mary still retained among her titles that of 
queen of Ireland ; and he affirmed that it belonged to him 
alone, as he saw cause, either to erect new kingdoms or abol- 
ish the old : but to avoid all dispute with the new converts, 
he thought proper to erect Ireland into a kingdom, and he 
then admitted the title, as if it had been assumed from his con- 
cession. This was a usual artifice of the popes, to give allow- 
ance to what they could not prevent, $ and afterwards pretend 
that princes, while they exercised their own powers, were only 
acting by authority from the papacy. And though Paul had 
at first intended to oblige Mary formally to recede from this 
title before he would bestow it upon her, he found it prudent 
to proceed in a less haughty manner. $ 

Another point in discussion between the pope and the Eng- 
lish ambassadors was not so easily terminated. Paul insisted 
that the property and possessions of the church should be 
restored to the uttermost farthing ; that whatever belonged to 
God could never, by any law, be converted to profane uses ; 
and every person who detained such possessions was in a stats 



* Father Paul, lib. v. t Heylin, p. 45. 

X Heylin, p. 45. Father Paul, lib. v. 
i Father Paul, lib. v. 



MARY 4J77 

r.f eternal damnation ; that he would willingly, in considera- 
tion of the humble submissions of the English, make them a 
present of these ecclesiastical revenues ; but such a concession 
exceeded his power, and the people might be certain thai 
go great a profanation of holy things would be a perpetual 
anathema upon them, and would blast all their future felicity ; 
that if they would truly show their filial piety, they must 
restore all the privileges and emoluments of the liomish 
church, and Peter's pence among the rest ; nor could they 
expect that this apostle would open to them the gates of para- 
dise, while they detained from him his patrimony on earth.* 
These earnest remonstrances being transmitted to England, 
though they had little influence on the nation, operated power- 
fully on the queen, who 'was determined, in order to ease her 
conscience, to restore all the church lands which were still in 
the possession of the crown ; and the more to display her zeal, 
she erected anew some convents and monasteries, notwith- 
standing the low condition of the exchequer.! When this 
measure was debated in council, some members objected, that 
if such a considerable part of the revenue were dismembered, 
the dignity of the crown would fall to decay ; but the queen 
replied, that she preferred the salvation of her soul to ten such 
kingdoms as England. $ These imprudent measures would 
not probably have taken place so easily, had it not been for 
the death of Gardiner, which happened about this time ; the 
great seal was given to Heath, archbishop of York, that an 
ecclesiastic might still be possessed of that high office, and be 
better enabled by his authority to forward the persecutions 
against the reformed. 

These persecutions were now become extremely odious to 
the nation ; and the effects of the public discontent appeared 
in the new parliament, summoned to meet at Westminster. $ 
A bill | j was passed restoring to the church the tenths and 
first-fruits, and all the impropriations which remained in the 
hands of the crown ; but though this matter directly concerned 
none but the queen herself, great opposition was made to the 
bill in the house of commons. An application being made for 
a subsidy during two years, and lor two fifteenths, the latter 



* Father Paul, lib. v. Heylin, p. 45. 

1 Depeches de Noaillcs, vol. iv. p. 312. 

j: Heylin, p. 53, 65. Holingshed. p. 1127. Speed, p 826, 

$ Burnet, vol. ii. p. 322. || 2 and 3 Phil, and Mar. cap. 



428 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1555 

was refused by the commons ; and many members said, thai 
while the crown was thus despoiling itself of its revenue, it 
was in vain to bestow riches upon it. The parliament reject- 
ed a bill for obliging the exiles to return under certain penal- 
ties, and another for incapacitating such as were remiss in 
the prosecution of heresy from being justices of peace. The 
i[ueen, finding the intractable humor of the commons, thought 
oroper to dissolve the parliament. 

The spirit of opposition which began to prevail in parlia- 
ment was the more likely to be vexatious to Mary, as she was 
otherwise in very bad humor on account of her husband's 
absence, who, tired of her importunate love and jealousy, and 
finding his authority extremely limited in England, had laid 
hold of the first opportunity to leave her, and had gone over 
last summer to the emperor in Flanders. The indifference 
and neglect of Philip, added to the disappointment in her 
imagined pregnancy, threw her into deep melancholy ; and 
she gave vent to her spleen by daily enforcing the persecu- 
tions against the Protestants, and even by expressions of rage 
against all her subjects ; by whom she knew herself to be 
hated, and whose opposition, in refusing an entire compliance 
with Philip was the cause, she believed, why he had alienated 
his affections from her, and afforded her so little of his com- 
pany.* The less return her love met with, the more it in- 
creased ; and she passed most of her time in solitude, where 
she gave vent to her passion, either in tears, or in writing 
fond epistles to Philip, who seldom returned her any answer, 
and scarcely deigned to pretend any sentiment of love or 
even of gratitude towards her. The chief part of government 
to which she attended, was the extorting of money from her 
people, in order to satisfy his demands ; and as the parliament 
had granted her but a scanty supply, she had recourse to 
expedients very violent and irregular. She levied a loan of 
sixty thousand pounds upon a thousand persons, of whose 
compliance, either on account of their riches or their affections 
to her, she held herself best assured : but that sum not suf- 
ficing, she exacted a general loan on every one who possessed 
twenty pounds a year. This imposition lay heavy on the 
gentry, who were obliged, many of them, to retrench theii 
expenses and dismiss their servants, in order to enable them tc 
comply with her demands : and as these sorvants, accustom? i 



* Depeches de Noailles. vol. v. p. 370, 562 



A. D. 1555.] mart. 429 

to idleness, and having no means of subsistence, commonly 
oetook themselves to theft and robbery, the queen published a 
proclamation, by which she obliged their former masters to 
take them back to their service. She levied sixty thousand 
marks on seven thousand yeomen who had not contributed to 
the former loan ; and she exacted thirty-six thousand pounds 
more from the merchants. In order to engage some Londoners 
to comply more willingly with her multiplied extortions, she 
passed an edict prohibiting for four months the exporting of 
any English cloths or kerseys to the Netherlands ; an expedient 
which procured a good market for such a; bad already sent 
any quantity of cloth thither. Her rapaciousness engaged 
her to give endless disturbance and interruption to commerce. 
The English company settled in Antwerp having refused her 
a loan of forty thousand pounds, she dissembled her resent- 
ment till she found that they had bought and shipped great 
quantities of cloth for Antwerp fair, which was approach- 
ing : she then laid an embargo on the ships, and obliged the 
merchants to grant her a loan of the forty thousand pounds 
at first demanded, to engage for the payment of twenty 
thousand pounds more at a limited time, and to submit to an 
arbitrary imposition of twenty shillings on each piece. Some 
time after, she was informed that the Italian merchants had 
shipped above forty thousand pieces of cloth for the Levant, 
for which they were to pay her a crown a piece, the usual 
imposition : she struck a bargain with the merchant adven- 
turers in London ; prohibited the foreigners from making any 
exportation ; and received from the English merchants, in 
sonsideration of this iniquity, the sum of fifty thousand pounds, 
and an imposition of four crowns on each piece of cloth 
which they should export. She attempted to borrow great 
sums abroad ; but her credit was so low, that though she 
offered fourteen per cent, to the city of Antwerp for a loan 
o{ thirty thousand pounds, she could not obtain it till she 
compelled the city of London to be surety for her.* All 
these violent expedients were employed while she herself was 
jk profound peace with all the world, and had visibly no 
occasion for money but to supply the demands of a husband, 
who gave attention only to his own convenience, and showed 
aimself entirely indifferent about her interests. 



* Godwin, p. 359. Cowper's Chronicle. Burnet, vol. ii 
Carte, p. 330, 333. 337, 341. Strype's Memor. vol. iij p. 4 
Annals, vol. «. p. 15. 



p. 35S 

428, 55<S 



430 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D 1550, 

Philip was now become master of all the wealth of the 
new world, and. of the richest and most extensive dominions 
in Europe, by the voluntary resignation of the emperoi 
Charles V. ; who, though still in the vigor of his ag(!, had 
taken a disgust to the world, and was determined to seek, in 
the tranquillity of retreat, for that happiness which he had. in 
vain pursued amidst the tumults of war and the restless projects 
of ambition. He summoned the states of the Low Countries ; 
and seating himself on the throne for the last time, explained 
to his subjects the reasons of his resignation, absolved them 
from ail oaths of allegiance, and, devolving his authority on 
Philip, told him, that his paternal tenderness made him weep 
when he reflected on the burden which he imposed upon 
him.* He inculcated on him the great and only duty of a 
prince, the study of his people's happiness ; and represented 
how much preferable it was to govern by affection, rather 
than by fear, the nations subjected to his dominion. The 
cool reflections of age now discovered to him the emptiness 
of his former pursuits ; and he found that the vain schemes 
of extending his empire had been the source of endless 
opposition and disappointment, and kept himself, his neighbors, 
and his subjects, in perpetual inquietude, and had frustrated 
the sole end of government, the felicity of the nations com- 
mitted to his care ; an object which meets with less opposi- 
tion, and which, if steadily pursued, can alone convey a last- 
ing and solid satisfaction. 

[1556.] A few months after, he resigned to Philip his 
other dominions ; and embarking on board a fleet, sailed to 
Spain, and took his journey to St. Just, a monastery in 
Zstremadura, which, being situated in a happy climate, and 
amidst the greatest beauties of nature, he lad chosen for the 
place of his retreat. When he arrived at Burgos, he found 
by the thinness of his court, and the negligent attendance 
of the Spanish grandees, that he was no longer emperor 
and though this observation might convince him still more of 
the vanity of the world, and make him more heartily despise 
what he had renounced, he sighed to find that all forme) 
adulation and obeisance had been paid to his fortune, not tc 
his person. With better reason was he struck with thu 
ingratitude of his son Philip, who obliged him to wait a lon£ 
time for the payment of the small pension which he had 

* Thuan. lib. xvi. c. 20- 



A. D. 1556.1 mary. 431 

reserved ; and this disappointment in his domestic enjoyment 
gave him a sensible concern. He pursued, however, his reso- 
lution with inflexible constancy ; and shutting himself up in 
his retreat, he exerted such self-command, that he restrained 
even his curiosity from any inquiry concerning the transactions 
of the world which he had entirely abandoned. The fencing 
against the pains and infirmities under which he labored occu 
pied a great part of his time ; and during the intervals he 
employed his leisure, either in examining the controversies of 
theology, with which his age had been so much agitated, and 
which he had hitherto considered only in a political light, or 
in imitating the works of renowned artists, particularly in 
mechanics, of which he had always been a great admirer and 
encourager. He is said to have here discovered a propensity 
to the new doctrines, and to have frequently dropped hints of 
this unexpected alteration in his sentiments. Having amused 
himself with the construction of clocks and watches, he thence 
remarked, how impracticable the object was in which he had 
so much employed himself during his grandeur ; and how im- 
possible that he, who never could frame two machines that 
would go exactly alike, could ever be able to make all mankind 
concur in the same belief and opinion. He survived his retreat 
two years. 

The emperor Charles had very early in the beginning of his 
reign found the difficulty of governing such distant dominions , 
and he had made his brother Ferdinand be elected king of the. 
Romans, with a view to his inheriting the imperial dignity, 
as well as his German dominions. But having afterwards 
enlai-ged his schemes, and formed plans of aggrandizing his 
family, he regretted that he must dismember such considerable 
states ; and he endeavored to engage Ferdinand, by the most 
tempting offers, and most earnest solicitations, to yield up hi.» 
pretensions in favor of Philip. Finding his attempts fruitless- 
he had resigned the imperial crown with his other dignities 
and Ferdinand, according to common form, applied to the 
pope for his coronation. The arrogant pontiff refused the 
dernand ; and pretended that, though on the death of ai> 
emperor he was obliged to crown the prince elected, yet. 
in the case of a resignation, the right devolved to the holv 
see, and it belonged to the pope alone to appoint an emperor 
Tke conduct of Paul was in every thing conformable to thes? 
lofty pretensions. He thundered always in the ears of al« 
ambassadors, that he stood in no need of the assistance oi 



132 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [ A. D. 1556 

any prince ; that he was above all potentates of the earth ; 
that he would not accustom monarchs to pretend to a 
familiarity or equality with him ; that it belonged to him tc 
alter and regulate kingdoms ; that he was successor of those 
who had deposed kings and emperors ; and that, rather than 
submit to any thing below his dignity, he would set fire to 
the four corners of the world. He went so far as, at table, in 
the presence of many persons, and even openly, in a public 
consistory, to say, that he would not admit any kings for his 
companions; they were all his subjects, and he would hold 
them under these feet : so saying, he stamped on the ground 
with his old and infirm limbs : lor he was now past fourscore 
years of age.* 

The world could not forbear making a comparison between 
Charles V., a prince who, though educated amidst wars and 
intrigues of state, had prevented the decline of age, and had 
descended from the throne, in order to set apart an interval 
for thought and reflection ; and a priest who, in the extremity 
of old age, exulted in his dominion, and from restless ambition 
and revenge was throwing all nations into combustion. Paul 
had entertained the most inA r eterate animosity against the 
house of Austria ; and though a truce of five years had been 
concluded between France and Spain, he excited Henry by 
his solicitations to break it, and promised to assist him in 
recovering Naples, and the dominions to which he laid claim 
in Italy ; a project which had ever proved hurtful to the 
predecessors of that monarch. He himself engaged in hostili- 
ties with the duke of Alva, viceroy of Naples ; and Guise 
being sent with forces to support him, the renewal of war 
between the two crowns seemed almost inevitable. Philip, 
though less warlike than his father, was no less ambitious ; 
and he trusted that, by the intrigues of the cabinet, where, he 
believed, his caution, and secrecy, and prudence gave him the 
superiority, he should be able to subdue all his enemies, and 
extend his authority and dominion. For this reason, as well 
as from the desire of settling his new empire, he wished to 
maintain peace with France ; but when he found that, with- 
out sacrificing his honor, it was impossible for him to overlook 
the hostile attempts of He:iry, he prepared for war with great 
industry. In order to give himself the more advantage, he 
was desirous of embarking England in the quarrel ; am 1 . 



Father Paul lib. v. 



A. T>. 1WHL J mary. 433 

though the queen was of herself extremely averse to that 
measure,, he hoped that the devoted fondness which, notwith- 
standing repeated instances of his indifference, she still bore to 
him, would effectually second his applications. Had the mat- 
ter indeed depended solely on her, she was incapable of resist- 
ing her husband's commands ; but she had little weight with 
her council, still less with her people ; and her government, 
which was every day becoming more odious, seemed unable 
to maintain itself, even during the most profound tranquillity, 
much more if a war were kindled with France, and, what 
seemed an inevitable consequence, with Scotland, supported 
by that powerful kingdom. 

An act of barbarity was this year exercised in England, 
which, added to many other instances of the same kind, tend- 
ed to render the government extremely unpopular. Cranmer 
had long been detained prisoner ; but the queen now de- 
termined to bring him to punishment ; and in order the more 
fully to satiate her vengeance, she resolved to punish him for 
heresy, rather than for treason. He was cited by the pope to 
stand his trial at Rome ; and though he was known to be kept 
in close custody at Oxford, he was, upon his not appearing, 
condemned as contumacious. Bonner, bishop of London, and 
Thirleby of Ely, were sent to degrade him ; and the former 
executed the melancholy ceremony with all the joy and exult- 
ation which suited his savage nature.* The implacable spirit 
of the queen, not satisfied with the eternal damnation of Cran- 
mer, which she believed inevitable, and with the execution o/' 
that dreadful sentence to which he was condemned, prompto^ 
her also to seek the ruin of his honor and the infamy of hi 
name. Persons were employed to attack him, not in the 
way of disputation, against which he was sufficiently armed, 
out by flattery, insinuation, aud address, by representing the 
dignities to which his character still entitled him, if he would 
merit them by a recantation ; by giving hopes of long enjoying 
those powerful friends, whom his beneficent disposition had 
attached to him during the course of his prosperity.f Over- 
come by the fond love of life, terrified by the prospect of 
those tortures which awaited him, he allowed, in an un- 
guarded hour, the sentiments of nature to prevail over hjs 
JCBolution, and he agreed to subscribe the doctrines of tin. 

* Mem. of Cranra. p. 375. 
I Heylin, p 55. Mem. p. 383. 
TOL, HI. — T 



4i<» KISTOr. Y IF ENGLAND. j A. D. 1556 

papal supremacy and of the real presence The court 
equally perfidious and cruel, were determined that this re- 
cantation should avail him nothing ; and they sent orders 
that he should be required to acknowledge his errors m 
church before the whole people, and that he should thence ba 
immediately carried to execution. Craumer, whether that he 
had received a secret intimation of their design, or had re- 
pented of his weakness, surprised the audience by a contrary 
declaration. He said, that he was well apprised of the obe- 
dience which he owed to his sovereign and the laws ; but this 
duty extended no further than to submit patiently to their 
commands, and to bear without resistance whatever hardships 
they should impose upon him: that a superior duty, the diuy 
which he owed to his Maker, obliged him to speak truth on 
all occasions, and not to relinquish, by a base denial, the holy 
doctrine which the Supreme Being had revealed to mankind : 
that there was one miscarriage in his life, of which, above all 
others, he severely repented ; the insincere declaration of faith, 
to which he had the weakness to consent, and which the fear 
of death alone had extorted from him: that he took this op- 
portunity of atoning for his error by a sincere and open recant- 
ation; and was willing to seal Avith his blood that doctrine 
which he firmly believed to be communicated from Heaven ; 
and that as his hand had erred by betraying his heart, it should 
first be punished by a severe but just doom, and should first 
pay the forfeit of its offences. He was thence led to the stake 
amidst the insults of the Catholics ; and having now sum- 
moned up all the force of his mind, he bore their scorn, as 
well as the torture of his punishment, with singular fortitude. 
He stretched out his hand, and without betraying, either by 
his countenance or motions, the least sign of weakness, or even 
of feeling, he held it in the flames till it was entirely con- 
sumed. His thoughts seemed wholly occupied with reflections 
on his former fault; and he called aloud several times, " This 
hand has offended." Satisfied with that atonement, he then 
discovered a serenity in his countenance ; and when the fire 
attacked his body, he seemed to be quite insensible of hia 
outward sufferings, and by the force of hope and resolution to 
have collected his mind altogether within itself, and to repel 
the fury of the flame. It is pretended, that after his body 
was consumed, his heart was found entire and untouched 
amidst the ashes ; an event which, as it was the emblem of 
his constancy, was fondly believed by the zealous Protest-mis 



A.I/ 1557.] mary. 435 

He was undoubtedly a man of merit , possessed ot learning 
and capacity, and adorned with candor, sincerity, and benefi- 
cence, and all those virtues which were fitted to render him 
useful and amiable in society. His moral qualities procured 
him universal respect ; and the courage of his martyrdom, 
though he fell short of the rigid inflexibility observed in many, 
made him the hero of the Protestant party.* 

After Cranmer's death. Cardinal Pole, who had now taken 
priest's orders, was installed in the see of Canterbury ; and 
was thus, by this office, as well as by his commission of legate, 
placed at the head of the church of England. But though 
he was averse to all sanguinary methods of converting her- 
etics, and deemed the reformation of the clergy the more 
effectual, as the more laudable expedient for that purpose, t 
he found his authority too weak to oppose the barbarous and 
bigoted disposition of the queen and of her counsellors. He 
himself, he knew, had been suspected of Lutheranism ; and 
as Paul, the reigning pope, was a furious persecutor, and his 
personal enemy, lie was prompted, by the modesty of his dis- 
position, to reserve his credit for other occasions, in which he 
had a greater probability of success. $ 

[1557.] The great object of the queen was to engage the 
nation in the war which was kindled between France and Spain ; 
and Cardinal Pole, with many other counsellors, openly and zeal- 
ously opposed this measure. Besides insisting on the marriage 
articles, which provided against such an attempt, they repre- 
sented the violence of the domestic factions in England, and 
the disordered state oi the finances ; and they foreboded, 
that the tendency of all these measures was to reduce the 
kingdom to a total dependence on Spanish counsels. Philip 
had come to London, in order to support his partisans ; and he 
told the queen that, if he were not gratified in so reasonable a 
request, he never more would set foot in England. This 
declaration extremely heightened her zeal for promoting his 
interests, and overcoming the inflexibility of her council. 
After employing other menaces of a more violent nature, she 
threatened to dismiss all of them, and to appoint counsellora 
more obsequious ; yet could she not procure a vote for declar- 
ing war with France. At length, one Stafford, and some 

* Burnet, vol. ii. p. 331, 332, etc. Godwin, p. 351 

t Burnet, vol. ii. p. 324, 325. 

t Heylin, p. 63 09. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 327- 



436 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. 1). 1557 

other conspirators, were detected in a design of surprising 
Scarborough;* and a confession being extorted from them, 
that they had been encouraged by Henry in the attempt, the 
queen's importunity prevailed ; and it was determined to make 
this act of hostility, with others of a like secret and doubtful 
nature, the ground of the quarrel. War was accordingly 
declared against France ; and preparations were every where 
made for attacking that kingdom. 

The revenue of England at that time little exceeded three 
hundred thousand pounds. f Any considerable supplies could 
scarcely be expected from parliament, considering the present 
disposition of the nation ; and as the war would sensibly 
diminish that branch arising from the customs, the finances, 
it was foreseen, would fall short even of the ordinary charges 
of government, and must still more prove unequal to the 
expenses of war. But though the queen owed great arrears 
to all her servants, besides the loans extorted from her subjects, 
these considerations had no influence with her ; and in order 
to support her warlike preparations, she continued to levy 
money in the same arbitrary and violent manner which sho 
had formerly practised. She obliged the city of London to 
supply her with sixty thousand pounds on her husband's entry ; 
she levied before the legal time the second year's subsidy 
voted by parliament ; she issued anew many privy seals, by 
which she procured loans from her people ; and having 
equipped a fleet, which she could not victual by reason of the 
dearness of provisions, she seized all the corn she could find 
in Suffolk and Norfolk, without paying any price to the owners. 
By all these expedients, assisted by the power of pressing 
she levied an army of ten thousand men, which she sent over 
to the Low Countries, under the command of the earl of 
Pembroke. Meanwhile, in order to prevent any disturbance 
at home, many of the most considerable gentry were thrown 
into the Tower ; and lest they should be known, the Spanish 
practice was followed : they either were carried thither in the 
night-time, or were hoodwinked and muffled by the guards 
who conducted them. X 

The king of Spain had assembled an army, which, aftor 



* Heylin, p. 72. Burnet, vol. ii. p. 351. Sir James Melvil'* 
Memoirs. 

t Rossi, Successi d'Inghilterra. 

X Strype's Eecles. Memorials, vol. iii. 3~7. 



A.D. 1557.J mary 4?" 

the junction of the English, amounted to about sixty thousand 
men, conducted by Philibert, duke of Savoy, one of the great 
est captains of the age. The constable Montmorency, who 
commanded the French army, had not half the number to 
oppose him. The duke of Savoy, after menacing Mariem- 
bourgh and Rocroy, suddenly sat down before St. Quinu.. . 
and as the place was weak, and ill provided with a garrison, 
he expected in a lew days to become master of it. But 
Admiral Coligny, governor of the province, thinking his honor 
interested to save so important a fortress, threw himself into 
St. Quintin, with some troops of French and Scottish gens- 
darmery ; and by his exhortations and example animated the 
soldiers to a vigorous defence. He despatched a messenger to 
his uncle Montmorency, desiring a supply of men ; and the 
constable approached the place with his whole army, in order 
to facilitate the entry of these succors. But the duke of Savoy, 
falling on the reenforcement, did such execution upon them, 
that not above five hundred got into the place. He next 
made an attack on the French army, and put them to total 
rout, killing four thousand men, and dispersing the remainder. 
In this unfortunate action many of the chief nobility of France 
were either slain or taken prisoners : among the latter was 
the old constable himself, who, fighting valiantly, and resolute 
to die rather than survive his defeat, was surrounded by the 
enemy, and thus fell alive into their hands. The whole king- 
dom of France was thrown into consternation : Paris was 
attempted to be fortified in a hurry : and had the Spaniards 
jresently marched thither, it could not have failed to fall inta 
their hands. But Philip was of a cautious temper ; and he 
determined first to take St. Quintin, in order to secure a com- 
munication with his own dominions. A very little time, it 
was expected, wojull finish this enterprise ; but the bravery of 
Coligny still prolonged the siege seventeen days, which proved 
the safety of France. Some troops were levied and assembled 
Couriers were sent to recall the duke of Guise and his army 
from Italy : and the French, having recovered from their first 
panic, put themselves in a posture of defence. Philip, afteT 
taking Ham and Catelet, found the season so far advanced, 
that he could attempt no other enterprise : he broke up his 
camp, and retired to winter quarters. 

But the vigilant activity of Guise, not satisfied with securing 
the frontiers, prompted him, in the depth of winter, to plan an 
enterprise which France, during l ar gi latest successes, had 



438 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. f A. D. 155*3 

always regarded as impracticable, and had never thought of 
undertaking. Calais was in that age deemed an impregnable 
fortress ; and as it was known to be the favorite of the English 
nation, by whom it could easily be succored, the recovery of 
that place by France was considered as totally desperate. 
But Coligny had remarked, that as the town of Calais was 
surrounded with marshes, which during the winter were im- 
passable, except over a dike guarded by two castles, St. Agatha 
and Newman Bridge, the English were of late accustomed, 
on account of the lowness of their finances, to dismiss a great 
part of the garrison at the end of autumn, and to recall them 
in the spring, at which time alone they judged their attendance 
necessary. On this circumstance he had founded the design 
of making a sudden attack on Calais ; he had caused the 
place to be secretly viewed by some engineers ; and a plan of 
the whole enterprise being found among his papers, it served, 
though he himself was made prisoner on the taking of St. 
Quintin, to suggest the project of that undertaking, and to direct 
the measures of the duke of Guise. 

Several bodies of troops defiled towards the frontiers on 
various pretences ; and the whole, being suddenly assembled, 
formed an army, with which Guise made an unexpected 
march towards Calais. At the same time, a great number 
of French ships, being ordered into the Channel, under color 
of cruising on the English, composed a fleet which made an 
attack by sea on the fortifications. The French assaulted St. 
Agatha with three thousand arquebusiers ; and the garrison, 
though they made a vigorous defence, were soon obliged to 
abandon the place, and retreat to Newman Bridge. The siege 
of this latter place was immediately undertaken, and at the 
same time the fleet battered the risbauk, which guarded the 
entrance of the harbor ; and both these castles seemed exposed 
to imminent danger. The Governor, Lord Wentworth, was a 
brave officer ; but finding that the greater part of his weak 
garrison was enclosed in the castle of Newman Bridge and the 
risbank, he ordered them to capitulate, and to join him in Calais, 
which, without their assistance, he was utterly unable to defend. 
The garrison of Newman Bridge was so happy as to effect 
this purpose ; but that of the risbank could not obtain such 
favorable conditions, and were obliged to surrender at dis 
oretion. 

[1558.] The duke of Guise, now holding Calais blockaded 
by sea and land, thought himself secure of succeeding in his 



A. D. 1558.1 mart. 43'J 

enterprise ; but in oruer to prevent all accident, he delayed 
lot a moment the attack of the place. He plained his bat' 
teries against the castle, where he made a large breach ; and 
having ordered Andelot, Coligny's brother, to drain the fossee. 
lie commanded an assault, which succeeded ; and the Frencn 
made a lodgement in the castle. On the night following, 
Wentworth attempted to recover this post ; but having lost 
two hundred men in a furious attack which he made upon it,* 
he found his garrison so weak, that he was obliged to capitu- 
late. Ham and Guisnes fell soon after ; and thus the duke 
of Guise, in eight days, during the depth of winter, made 
himself master of this strong fortress, that had cost Edward 
III. a siege of eleven months, at the head of a numerous 
army, which had that very year been victorious in the battle 
of Crecy. The English had held it above two hundred 
years ; and as it gave them an easy entrance into France, it 
was regarded as the most important possession belonging to 
the crown. The joy of the French was extreme, as well as 
the glory acquired by Guise ; who, at the time when all Eu- 
rope imagined France to be sunk by the unfortunate battle of 
St. Quintin, had, in opposition to the English, and their allies 
the Spaniards, acquired possession of a place which no iormer 
king of France, even during the distractions of the civil wars 
between the houses of York and Lancaster, had ever ventured 
to attempt. The English, on the other hand, bereaved of this 
valuable fortress, murmured loudly against the improvidence 
of the queen and her council ; who, after engaging in a fruit- 
less war for the sake of foreign interests, had thus exposed 
the nation to so severe a disgrace. A treasury exhausted by 
expenses, and burdened with debts ; a people divided and 
dejected ; a sovereign negligent of her people's welfare ; 
were circumstances which, notwithstanding the fair offers and 
promises of Philip, gave them small hopes of recovering 
Calais. And as the Scots, instigated by French counsels, 
began to move on the borders, they were now necessitated 
rather to look to their defence at home, than to think of foreign 
conquests. 

After the peace which, in consequence of King Edward's 
treaty with Henry, took place between Scotland and England, 
the queen dowager, on pretence of visiting her daughter and 
her relations, made a journey to France ; and she carried 



Thuan. lib. xx cap. 2. 



440 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. |A. I). l5f)'^ 

along with her the earls of Huntley, Sutherland, ManschaL 
and many of the principal nobility. Her secret design was, 
to take measures for engaging the earl of Arran to resign to 
her the government of the kingdom ; and as her brothers, the 
duke of Guise, the cardinal of Lorraine, and the duke of 
Aumale, had uncontrolled influence in the court of France, 
she easily persuaded Henry, and by his authority the Scottish 
nobles, to enter into her measures. Having also gained 
Carnegy of Kinnaird, Panter, bishop of Ross, and Gavin 
Hamilton, commendator of Kilwinning, three creatures of the 
governor's, she persuaded him, by their means, to consent to 
thu resignation;* and when every thing was thus prepared 
for her purpose, she took a journey to Scotland, and passed 
through England in her way thither. Edward received her 
with great respect and civility ; though he could not forbear 
attempting to renew the old treaty for his marriage with her 
daughter ; a marriage, he said, so happily calculated for the 
tranquillity, interest, and security of both kingdoms, and the 
only means of insuring a durable peace between them. For 
his part, he added, he never could entertain a cordial amity 
for any other husband whom she should choose ; nor was it 
easy for him to forgive a man who, at the same time that he 
disappointed so natural an alliance, had bereaved him of a 
bride to whom his affections, from his earliest infancy, had 
been entirely engaged. The queen dowager eluded these 
applications, by telling him, that if any measures had been 
taken disagreeable to him, they were entirely owing to the 
imprudence of the duke of Somerset, who, instead of employing 
courtesy, caresses, and gentle offices, the proper means of 
gaining a young princess, had had recourse to arms and vio- 
lence, and had constrained the Scottish nobility to send their 
sovereign into France, in order to interest that kingdom in 
protecting their liberty and independence. t 

When the queen dowager arrived in Scotland, she found 
the governor very unwilling to fulfil his engagements ; and 
it was not till after many delays that he could he persuaded to 
resign his authority. But finding that the majority of the 
young princess was approaching, and that the queen dowager- 
had gamed the affections of all the principal nobility, he 
thought it more prudent to submit ; and having stipulated that 



* Buchanan, lib. xiv. Keith p. 5C. Spotswood, p. 92. 
t Keith, p. 59. 



A.D. 1553.J mary. 44 1 

he should be ueclh.red Lsxt heir to the crown, and should he 
freed from giving any account of his past administration, he 
placed her in possession of the power, and she thenceforth 
assumed the name of regent.* It was a usual saying of this 
princess, that, provided she could render her friends happy, 
and could insure to herself a good reputation, she was entirely 
indifferent what befell her ; and though this sentiment is 
greatly censured by the zealous reformers,! as being founded 
wholly on secular motives, it discovers a mind well calcu- 
lated for the government of kingdoms. D'Oisel, a French- 
man, celebrated ibr capacity, had attended her as ambassador 
from Henry, but in reality to assist her with his counsels in 
so delicate an undertaking as the administration of Scotland ; 
and this man had formed a scheme for laying a general tax 
on the kingdom, in order to support a standing military force, 
which might at once repel the inroads of foreign enemies, and 
check the turbulence of the Scottish nobles. But though some 
of the courtiers were gained over to this project, it gave great 
and general discontent to the nation ; and the queen regent, 
after ingenuously confessing that it would prove pernicious to 
the kingdom, had the prudence to desist from it, and to trust 
entirely for her security to the good will and affections of her 
subjects. | 

This laudable purpose seemed to be the chief object of her 
administration ; yet was she sometimes drawn from it by her 
connections with France, and by the influence which her 
brothers had acquired over her. When Mary commenced 
hostilities against that kingdom, Henry required the queen 
regent to take part in the quarrel ; and she summoned a con- 
vention of states at Newbottle, and requested them to concur 
in a declaration of war against England. The Scottish nobles, 
who were become as jealous of French as the English were 
of Spanish influence, refused their assent ; and the queen was 
obliged to have recourse to stratagem in order to effect her 
purpose. She ordered D'Oisel to begin some fortifications at 
Eyemouth, a place which had been dismantled by the last 
treaty with Edward ; and when the garrison of Berwick, as 
she foresaw, made an inroad to prevent the undertaking, she 
effectually employed th;s pretence to inflame the Scottish 
nation, and to engage them in hostilities against England. § 

* 12th April, 1554. t Knox, p. 89. 

t Keith, p. 70. Buchanan, lib. xvi. 

4 Buchanan, lib. xvi. Thnan. lib. xix. 3. 7 



*42 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1558 

The enterprises, however, of the Scots proceeded no farthei 
than some inroads on the borders : when D'Ois3l of himself 
conducted artillery and troops to besiege the castle of Werke. 
he was recalled, and sharply rebuked by the council.* 

In order to connect Scotland more closely with France, and 
to increase the influence of the latter kingdom, it was thought 
proper by Henry to celebrate the marriage between tbe young 
queen and the dauphin ; and a deputation was sent by the 
Scottish parliament to assist at the ceremony, and to settle 
the terms of the contract. 

The close alliance between France and Scotland threatened 
very nearly the repose and security of Mary ; and it was 
foreseen, that though the factions and disorders which might 
naturally be expected in the Scottish government during the 
absence of the sovereign, would make its power less formid- 
able, that kingdom would at least afford to the French a 
means of invading England. The queen, therefore, found it 
necessary to summon a parliament, and to demand of them 
«ome supplies to her exhausted exchequer. As such an 
emergency usually gives great advantage to the people ; and 
as the parliaments during this reign had shown that, where 
the liberty and independency of the kingdom were menaced 
with imminent danger, they were not entirely overawed by 
the court ; we shall naturally expect that the late arbitrary 
methods of extorting money should at least be censured, and 
perhaps some remedy be for the future provided against them. 
The commons, however, without making any reflections on 
the past, voted, besides a fifteenth, a subsidy of four shillings 
in the pound on land, and two shillings and eightpence on 
(roods. The clergy granted eight shillings in the pound, pay- 
able, as was also the subsidy of the laity, in four years by 
equal portions. 

The parliament also passed an act, confirming all the sales 
and grants of crown lands, which either were already made 
by the queen, or should be made during the seven ensuing 
years. It was easy to foresee that, in Mary's present disposi- 
tion and situation, this power would be followed by a great 
alienation of the royal demesnes ; and nothing could be more 
contrary to the principles of good government, than to estab- 
luw« a prince with very extensive authority, yet permit him to 
W* -educed to beggary. This act met with opposition in the 

* Knox, p 9.3. 



A. D. 1558.] mary. 443 

house of commons. One Copely exposed his fears lest tha 
queen, under color of the power there granted, might alter the 
succession, and alienate the crown from the lawful heir ; but 
his words were thought " irreverent" to her majesty : he was 
committed to the custody of the serjeant at arms, and though 
he expressed sorrow for his offence, he was not released till the 
queen was applied to for his pardon. 

The English nation, during this whole reign, were under 
great apprehensions with regard not only to the succession, 
but the life of the lady Elizabeth. The violent hatred which 
the queen bore to her broke out on every occasion; and ii 
required all the authority of Philip, as well as her own great 
prudence, to prevent the fatal effects of it. The princes.-; 
retired into the country, and knowing that she was surrounded 
with spies, she passed her time wholly in reading and study, 
intermeddled in no business, and saw very little company. 
While she remained in this situation, which ibr the present M'as 
melancholy, but which prepared her mind for those great actions 
by which her life was afterwards so much distinguished, pro- 
posals of marriage were made to her by the Swedish ambas- 
sador, in his master's name. As her first question was, whether 
the queen had been informed of these proposals, the ambas- 
sador told her, that his master thought, as he was a gentleman, 
it was his duty first to make his addresses to herself, and 
having obtained her consent, he would next, as a king, apply 
to her sister. But the princess would allow him to proceed no 
further ; and the queen, after thanking her for this instance 
of duty, desired to know how she stood affected to the Swe- 
dish proposals. Elizabeth, though exposed to many present 
dangers and mortifications, had the magnanimity to reserve 
herself for better fortune; and she covered her refusal with 
professions of a passionate attachment to a single life, which, 
she said, she infinitely preferred before any other.* The 
princess showed like prudence in concealing her sentiments 
of religion, in complying with the present modes of worship, 
and in eluding all questions with regard to that dclicata 
subject. t 



* Burnet, vol. ii. ColL No. 37. 

t The common net at that time, says Sir Richard Biker, for catch 
ing of Protestants, was the real presence; and this net v/as used to 
catch the lady Elizabeth ; lor being asked, one time, what she though; 
of the words of Christ, " Tins is my bodv," whether she rhought it tha 



«44 HISTORY OF ENGLAND [A. D. 1558 

The money granted by parliament enabled the queen to fit 
out a fleet of a hundred and forty sail, which, being joined by 
thirty Flemish ships, and carrying six thousand land forces on 
board, was sent to make an attempt on the coast of Brittany. 
The fleet was commanded by Lord Clinton ; the land forces 
by the earls of Huntingdon and Rutland. But the equipment 
of the fleet and army was ?*j dilatory, that the French got 
intelligence of the design, and were prepared to receive them. 
The English found Brest so well guarded as to render an 
attempt on that place impracticable ; but landing at Conquet, 
they plundered and burnt the town, with some adjacent villages, 
and were proceeding to commit greater disorders, when Ker- 
simon, a Breton gentleman, at the head of some militia, fell 
upon them, put them to rout, and drove them to their ships 
with considerable loss. But a small squadron of ten English 
ships had an opportunity of amply revenging this disgrace 
upon the French. The mareschal de Thermes, governor of 
Calais, had made an irruption into Flanders, with an army of 
fourteen thousand men, and having forced a passage over the 
River Aa, had taken Dunkirk and Berg St. Winoc, and had 
advanced as far as Newport ; but Count Egmont coming sud 
denly upon him with superior forces, he was obliged to re- 
treat ; and being overtaken by the Spaniards near Gravelines 
and finding a battle inevitable, he chose very skilfully his 
ground ibr the engagement. He fortified his left wing with 
all the precautions possible ; and posted his right along the 
River A a, which, he reasonably thought, gave him full security 
from that quarter. But the English ships, which were acci- 
dentally on the coast, being drawn by the noise of the firing, 
sailed up the river, and flanking the French, did such execu- 
tion by their artillery, that they put them to flight, and the 
Spaniards gained a complete victory.* 

true body of Christ that was in the sacrament, it is said that, after soma 
pausing, she thus answered : — 

" Christ was the word that spake it ; 
He took the bread and brake it : 
And what the word did riake it, 
That I believe, and take hv' 

Which, though it may seem but a slight expression, yet hath it mon 
solidness than at lirst sight appears; at least, it served her turn, ht 
that time, to escape the net, which, by a direct answer, she could aan 
have done. Baker's Chronicle, p. 320. 
* Halingshed, p. 11-50. 



A D. 1558.| MART. Ut 

Meanwhile the principal army of France under the duke 
of Guise, and that of Spain under the duke of Savoy, ap- 
proached each other on the frontiers of Picardy ; and as the 
two kings had come into their respective camps, attended by 
the flower of their nobility, men expected that some great ancf 
important event would ibllow from the emulation of these 
warlike nations. But Philip, though actuated by the ambi- 
tion, possessed not the enterprising genius of a conqueror ; and 
ha was willing, notwithstanding the superiority of his num- 
bers, and the two great victories which he had gained at St. 
Quintin and Gravelines, to put a period to the war by treaty. 
Negotiations were entered into for that purpose ; and as the 
terms offered by the two monarchs were somewhat wide of 
each other, the armies were put into winter quarters till the 
princes could come to better agreement. Among other condi- 
tions, Henry demanded the restitution of Navarre to its lawful 
owner ; Philip, that of Calais and its territory to England ; but 
in the midst of these negotiations, news arrived of the death 
of Mary ; and Philip, no longer connected with England, be- 
gan to relax in his firmness on that capital article. This was 
the only circumstance that could have made the death of that 
princess be regretted by the nation. 

Mary had long been in a declining state of health ; and 
having mistaken her dropsy for a pregnancy, she had made 
use of an improper regimen, and her malady daily augmented. 
Every reflection now tormented her. The consciousness of 
being hated by her subjects, the prospect of Elizabeth's suc- 
cession, apprehensions of the danger to which the Catholii 
religion stood exposed, dejection for the loss of Calais, concert 
for the ill state of her affairs, and, above all, anxiety for the 
absence of her husband, who, she knew, intended soon to de- 
part for Spain, and to settle there during the remainder of his 
life, — all these melancholy reflections preyed upon her mind, 
and threw her into a lingering fever, of which she died, after 
a short and unfortunate reign of five years four months and 
eleven days. 

It is not necessary to employ many words in drawing the 
character of this princess. She possessed few qualities either 
estimable or amiable ; and her person was as little engaging 
as her behavior and address. Obstinacy, bigotry, violence, 
cruelty, malignity, revenge, tyranny ; every circumstance of 
her character took a tincture from her bad temper and narrow 
understanding. And amidst that complication of vice* which 



44G HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. D. 1553 

entered into her composition, we shall scarcely find any virtue 
but sincerity ; a quality which she seems to have maintained 
throughout her whole life ; except in the beginning of hei 
reign, when the necessity of her affairs obliged her to make 
6ome promises to the Protestants, which she certainly nevei 
intended to perform. But in these cases, a weak, bigoted 
woman, under the government of priests, easily finds casuistry 
sufficient to justify to herself the violation of a promise. She 
appears, also, as well as her father, to have been susceptible 
cf some attachments of friendship ; and that without the ca- 
price and inconstancy which were so remarkable in the con- 
duct of that monarch. To which we may add, that in many 
circumstances of her life she gave indications of resolution and 
vigor of mind, a quality which seems to have been inherent in 
her family. 

Cardinal Pole had long been sickly from an intermitting 
fever ; and he died the same day with the queen, about six- 
teen hours after her. The benign character of this prelate, 
the modesty and humanity of his deportment, made him be 
universally beloved ; insomuch that in a nation where the most 
furious persecution was carried on, and where the most violent 
religious factions prevailed, entire justice, even by most of the 
reformers, has been done to his merit. The haughty pontifE 
Paul IV., had entertained some prejudices against him ; and 
when England declared war against Henry, the ally of that 
pope, he seized the opportunity of revenge ; and revoking 
Pole's legatine commission, appointed in his room Cardinal 
Peyto, an Observantine friar, and confessor to the queen. But 
Mary would never permit the new legate to act upon the com- 
mission ; and Paul was afterwards obliged to restore Cardinal 
Pole to his authority. 

There occur few general remarks, besides what have al- 
ready been made in the course of our narration, with regard 
to the general state of the kingdom during this reign. The 
naval power of England was then so inconsiderable, that four- 
teen thousand pounds being ordered to be applied to the fleet, 
both for repairing and victualling it, it was computed that ten 
thousand pounds a year would afterwards answer all necessary 
••hanres.* The arbitrary proceedings of the queen above men- 
Honed, joined to many monopolies pranted by this princess 
as well as by her father, checked the growth of commerce ; 

* Burnet, vol. iii. p 2f-'i- 



&.D. loiS.] :,ur.v. 44? 

and so much the more, as ail other princes in Europe either 
were not permitted, or did not find it necessary, to proceed in 
bo tyrannical a manner. Acts of parliament, both in the last 
reign and in the beginning of the present, had laid the same 
impositions on the merchants of the still-yard as on other 
aliens ; yet the queen, immediately after her marriage, com- 
plied with the solicitations of the emperor, and by her prerog- 
ative suspended those laws.* Nobody hi that age pretended 
to question this exercise of prerogative. The historians are 
entirely silent with regard to it ; and it is only by the collec- 
tion of public papers that it is handed down to us. 

An absurd law had been made in the preceding reign, by 
which every one was prohibited from making cloth unless he 
had served an apprenticeship of seven years. The law was 
repealed in the first year of the queen ; and this plain reason 
given, that it had occasioned the decay of the woollen manu- 
facture, and had ruined several towns. f It is strange that 
Edwards law should have been revived during the reign of 
Elizabeth ; and still more strange that it should still subsist. 

A passage to Archangel had been discovered by the Eng- 
lish during the last reign ; and a beneficial trade with Muscovy 
had been established. A solemn embassy was sent by the czar 
to Queen Mary. The ambassadors were shipwrecked on the 
coast of Scotland , but being hospitably entertained there, 
they proceeded on the journey, and were received at London 
with e;reat pomp and solemnity, t This seems to have been 
the first intercourse which that empire had with any of the 
western potentates of Europe. 

A 1a.w was passed in this reign, $ by which the number of 
horses arms and furniture, was fixed which each person, 
according to the extent of his property, should be provided 
with for the defence of the kingdom. A man of a thousand 
pounds a year, lor instance, was obliged to maintain at his 
own charge six horses lit for demi-lances, of which three at 
least to be furnished with sufficient harness, steel saddles, and 
weapons proper for the demi-lances ; and ten horses fit 
for light horsemen, with furniture and weapons proper for 
them : he was obliged to have forty corselets furnished ; fifty 
almaiu revets, or, instead of them, forty coats of plate, corselets 



* F /mcr, vol. xv, p. 3G4. t 1 Mar, Par], 2, cap. 7, 

| F"->lingshed ; p. 732. Heylin, p. 71. 
6 ■) \i'A 6 Phi!, and Mar. cap. 'L 



448 HISTORY UF ENGLAND. (A.D. 1553 

or brigandincs i'urnished ; forty pikes, thirty long bows, thirty 
sheafs of arrows, thirty steel caps or skulls, twenty black bills 
or halberts, twenty harquebuts, and twenty morions or sallets. 
We may remark that a man of a thousand marks of stock was 
rated equal to one of two hundred pounds a year ; a proof 
that few or none at that time lived on their stock in money, 
and that great profits were made by the merchants in the 
course of trade. There is no class above a thousand pounds 
a year. 

We may form a notion of the little progress made in arts 
and refinement about this time, from one circumstance ; a 
man of no less rank than the comptroller of Edward VI. 's 
household paid only thirty shillings a year of our present 
money for his house in Channel Row ; * yet labor and provis- 
ions, and consequently houses, were only about a third of the 
present price. Erasmus ascribes the frequent plagues in 
England to the nastiness, and dirt, and slovenly habits among 
the people. " The floors," says he, " are commonly of clay, 
strewed with rushes, under which lies unmolested an ancient 
collection of beer, grease, fragments, bones, spittle, excrements 
of dogs and cats, and every thing that is nasty." t 

Holiugshed, who lived in Queen Elizabeth's reign, gives a 
very curious account of the plain, or rather rude way of living 
of the preceding generation. There scarcely was a chimney 
to the houses, even in considerable towns ; the fire was kin- 
dled by the wall, and the smoke sought its way out at the 
roof, or door, or windows : the houses were nothing but wat* 
ling plastered over with clay ; the people slept on straw pal- 
lets, and had a good round log under their head for a pillow ; 
and almost all the furniture and utensils were of wood, t 

In this reign x.e find the first general law with regard to 
highways, which were appointed to be repaired by parish duty 
all over England. § 

* Nicholson's Historical Library, 
t Erasm. Epist. 432. 
J See note V, at the end of the volume. 
| 2 and 3 Phil, and Mar. cap. 8. 



NOTES. 



Note A, p. 58. 

Stowe, Baker, Speed, Biondi, Holingshed, Bacon. Some late 
writers, particularly Mr. Carte, have doubted whether Terkin weie an 
mipostor, and have even asserted him to be the true Plantagenet. But 
to refute this opinion, we need only reflect on the following parti- 
culars : (1.) Though the circumstances of the wars between the two 
roses be in general involved in great obscurity, yet is there a most 
luminous ray thrown on all the transactions during the usurpation of 
Richard, and the murder of the two young princes, by the narrative 
of Sir Thomas More, whose singular magnanimity, probity, and judg- 
ment, make him an evidence beyond all exception. No historian, 
either of ancient or modern times, can possibly have more weight : he 
may also be justly esteemed a contemporary with regard to the mur- 
der of the two princes ; for though he was but five years of age when 
that event happened, he lived and was educated among the chief 
actors during the period of Richard ; and it is plain from this narrative 
itself, which is often extremely circumstantial, that he had the par- 
ticulars from the eyewitnesses themselves. His authority, therefore, 
is irresistible, and sufficient to overbalance a hundred little doubfts, 
and scruples, and objections. For in reality his narrative is liable to 
no solid objection, nor is there any mistake detected in it. He says, 
indeed, that the protector's partisans, particularly Dr. Shaw, spread 
abroad rumors of Edward IV. 's pre-contract with Elizabeth Lucy ; 
whereas it now appears from record, that the parliament afterwards 
declared the king's children illegitimate, on pretence of his pre-con- 
tract with Lady Eleanor Talbot. But it must be remarked, that 
neither of these pre-contracts was ever so much as attempted to be 
proved ; and why might not the protector's flatterers and partisans 
have made use sometimes of one false rumor, sometimes of another? 
Sir Thomas More mentions the one rumor as well as the other, and 
treats them both lightly, as they deserved. It is also thought incred- 
ible by Mr. Carte, that Dr. Shaw should have been encouraged by 
Richard to calumniate openly his mother the duchess of York, with 
whom that prince lived in good terms. But if there be any difficulty 
in this supposition, we need only suppose, that Dr. Shaw might have 
concerted in general his sermon with the protector or his ministers, 
and yet have chosen himself the particular topics, and chosen them 
very foolishly. This appears, indeed, to have been the case, by the 
disgrace into which he fell afterwards, and by the protector's neglee< 



$#3 NOTES. 

of bun. (2.) If Sir Thomas's quality or contemporary be dispute 
with regard to the duke of Glocester's protectorate, it cannot possibly 
be disputed with regard to Perkin's imposture: he was then a man, 
and had a full opportunity of knowing and examining and judging 
of the truth. In asserting that the duke of York was murdered by his 
ancle, he certainly asserts, in the most express terms, that Perkin, 
wLci personated him, was an impostor. (3.) There is another great 
genius who has carefully treated this point of history; so great a 
genius, as to be esteemed with justice one of the chief ornaments of 
the nation, and indeed one of the most sublime writers that any ag<_- 
or nation has produced. It is Lord Bacon I mean, who has related at 
full length, and without the least doubt or hesitation, all the impos- 
tures of Perkin Warbeck. If it be objected, that Lord Bacon was nc 
contemporary, and that we have the same materials as he upon which 
to form our judgment ; it must be remarked, that Lord Bacon plainly 
composed his elaborate and exact history from many records and 
papers which are now lost, and that consequently he is always to be 
cited as an original historian. It were very strange, if Mr. Carte's 
opinion were just, that, among all the papers which Lord Bacon 
perused, he never found any reason to suspect Perkin to be the true 
Plantacenet. There was at that time no interest in defaming Richard 
III. Bacon, besides, is a very unbiased historian, nowise partial to 
Hcnrv : we know the detail of that prince's oppressive government 
from "him alone. It may only be thought that, in summing up his 
character, he has laid the colors of blame more faintly than the very 
facts he mentions seem to require. Let me remark, in passing, as a 
singularity, how much English history has been beholden to four 
great men who have possessed the highest dignity in the law, More 
Bacon, Clarendon, and Whitiocke. (4.) But if contemporary evidence 
be so much sought after, there may in this case be produced the 
strongest and most undeniable in the world. The queen dowager, 
her son the marquis of Dorset, a man of excellent understanding, 
Sir Edward Woodville, her brother, Sir Thomas St. Leger, who had 
married the king's sister, Sir John Bourchier, Sir Robert Willoughby, 
Sir Giles Daubeney, Sir Thomas Arundel, the Courtneys. the Chey- 
neys, the Talbots, the Stanleys, and, in a word, all the partisans of the 
house of York, that is, the men of chief dignity in the nation ; all 
these srreat persons were so assured of the murder of the two princes, 
that thev applied to the earl of Richmond, the mortal enemy of their 
party and family; they projected to set him on the throne, which 
must have been utter ruin to them if the princes were alive ,• and thev 
stipulated to marry him to the princess Elizabeth, as heir no the 
crown, who in that case was no heir at all. Had each of those 
persons written the memoirs of his own times, would he not have said 
that Richard murdered his nephews ? Or would their pen be a better 
declaration than their actions, of their real sentiments ? (5.) But we 
have another contemporary authority, still better than even those 
great persons, so much interested to know the truth : it is that of 
Richard himself. He projected to marry his niece, a very unusua 
alliance in England, in order to unite her title with his own. He 
knew, therefore, her title to be good: for as to the declaration of her 
illegitimacy, as it went t.pon no proof, or even pretence of proof, it 
w.ts always regarded with the utmost contempt by the nation, and i' 



noti:s 451 

v/as considered as one of tnose parliamentary transactions, so frequent 
in that, period, which were scandalous in themselves, and had no man- 
ner of authority. It was even so much despised, as not to be reversed 
»y parliament alter Henry and Elizabeth were on the throne. (6.) We 
have also, as contemporary evidence, the universal established opinion 
c.t the age, both abroad and at home. This point was regarded as so 
uncontroverteu, that when Richard notified his accession to the court 
of France, that court was struck with horror at his abominable parri- 
cide, in murdering both his nephews, as Philip de Comines tells us ; 
and this sentiment w^nt to such an unusual height, that, as we learn 
from the same author, the court would not make the least reply to 
him. (7.) The same reasons which convinced that age of the parri- 
cide still subsist, and ought to carry the most undoubted evidence to 
us ; namely, the very circumstance of the sudden disappearnee of 
the princes from the Tower, and their appearance nowhere else. 
Every one said, "They have not escaped from their uncle, for he 
makes no search after them : he has not conveyed them elsewhere ; 
for it is his business to declare so, in order to remove the imputation 
of murder from himself. He never would needlessly subject himself 
to the infamy and danger of being esteemed a parricide, without 
acquiring the security attending that crime. They were in his cus- 
tody. He is answerable for them. If he gives no account of them, 
as he has a plain interest in their death, he must, by every rule of 
common sense, be regarded as the murderer. His flagrant usurpation, 
as well as his other treacherous and cruel actions, makes no better be 
expected from him. He could not say, with Cain, that he was not nis 
nephews' keeper." This reasoning, which was irrefragable at the 
very first, became every clay stronger from Richard's continued 
bilence, and the general and total ignorance of the place of these 
princes' abode. Richard's reign lasted about two years beyond this 
period ; and surely he could not have found a better expedient for 
disappointing the earl of Richmond's projects, as well as justifying his 
own character, than the producing of his nephews. (8.) If it were 
necessary, amidst this blaze of evidence, to produce proofs which, 
in any other case, would have been regarded as considerable, and 
would have carried great validity with them, I might mention Dighton 
aad Tyrrel's account of the murder. This last gentleman especially 
was not likely to subject himself to the reproach of so great a crime, 
by an imposture which, it appears, did not acquire him the favor of 
Henry. (9.) The duke of York, being a boy of nine years of age, 
could not have made his escape without the assistance of some elder 
persons. Would it not have been their chief concern instantly to 
convey intelligence of so great an event to his mother, the queen 
dowager, to his aunt, the duchess of Burgundy, and to the other 
friends of the family ? The duchess protected Simnel ; a project 
which, had it been successful, must have ended in the crowning of 
Warwick and the exclusion of the duke of York. This, among many 
oilier proofs, evinces that she was ignorant of the escape of that 
prince, which is impossible had it been real (10.) The total silence 
with regard to the. persons who aided him in his escape, as also with 
regard to the place of his abode during more than eight years, is a 
Eutlieient proof of the imposture. (11.) Perkin's own account of his 
•"scape is incredible and absurd. He said, that murderers were em. 



452 NOTES 

ployed »r. b uncle to hill him and his brother; they perpetrated th« 
crime against nis brother, but took compassion on him, and allowed 
him to escape. This account is contained in all the historians of that 
age. (12.) Perkin himself made a full confession of his imposture 
no less than three times; once when he surrendered himself prisoner, 
a second time when he was set in the stocks at Cheapside and West- 
minster, and a third time, which carries undoubted evidence, at the 
foot of the gibbet on which he was hanged. Not the least surmise 
that the confession had ever been procured by torture: and surely the 
last time he had nothing further to fear. (13.) Had not Henry been 
assured that Perkin was a ridiculous impostor, disavowed by the 
whole nation, he never would have allowed him to live an hour after 
he came into his power; much less would he have twice pardoned 
him. His treatment of the innocent earl of Warwick, who, in reality, 
had no title to the crown, is a sufficient confirmation of this reasoning. 
(14.) We know with certainty whence the whole imposture came, 
namely, from the intrigues of the duchess of Burgundy. She had 
before acknowledged and supported Lambert Simnel. an avowed 
impostor. It is remarkable that Mr. Carte, in order to preserve the 
weight of the duchess's testimony in favor of Perkin, suppresses 
entirely this material fact : a strong effect of party prejudices, and 
this author's desire of blackening Henry VII., whose hereditary title 
to the crown was defective. (15.) There never was, at that time, any 
evidence or shadow of evidence produced of Perkin's identity with 
Richard Plantagenet. Richard had disappeared when near nine years 
of age, and Perkin did not appear till he was a man. Could any one 
from his aspect pretend then to be sure of the identity ? He had got 
some stories concerning Richard's childhood, and the court of Eng- 
land ; but all that it was necessary for a boy of nine to remark or re- 
member, was easily suggested to him by the duchess of Burgundy, or 
Frion, Henry's secretary, or by any body that had ever lived at court. 
It is true, many persons of note were at first deceived ; but the dis- 
contents against Henry's government, and the general enthusiasm for 
the house of York, account sufficiently for this temporary delusion. 
Everybody's eyes were opened long before Perkin's death. (16.) The 
circumstance of finding the two dead bodies in the reign of Charles II. 
is not surely indifferent. They were found in the very place which 
More, Bacon, and other ancient authors, had assigned as the place 
of interment of the young princes ; the bones corresponded by their 
size to the age of the princes ; the secret and irregular place of their 
interment, not being in holy ground, proves that the boys had been 
secretly murdered ; and in the Tower no boys but those who are very 
nearly related to the crown can be exposed to a violent death. If we 
compare all these circumstances, we shall find that the inference is just 
and strong, that they were the bodies of Edward V. and his brother, 
the very inference that was drawn at the time of the discovery. 

Since the publication of this History, Mr. Walpolc has published his 
Historic Doubts concerning Richard III. Nothing can be a stronger 
proof how ingenious and agreeable that gentleman's pen is, than his 
being able to make an inquiry concerning a remote point of English 
history, en object of general conversation. The foregoing uote ha* 
been enlai ged on account of ttwt performance 



NOTES 453 



Note B. p. 69. 

Rot. Pari. 3 Henry VII. n. 17. The preamble is remarkable, and 
shows the state of the nation at that time. "The king, our sovereign 
lord, remembereth how, by our unlawful maintenances, giving of 
liveries, signs, and tokens, retainders by indentures, promises, oaths, 
writings, and other embraceries of his subjects, untrue demeanings 
of sheriffs in making panels, and untrue returns by taking money, 
by juries, etc. the policy of this nation is most subdued. 1 ' It must 
indeed be confessed, that such a state of the country required great 
discretionary power in the sovereign ; nor will the same maxims of 
government suit such a rude people, that may be proper in a more 
advanced stage of society. The establishment of the star-chambeiv 
or the enlargement of its power, in the reign of Henry VII., might 
have been as wise as the abolition of it in that of Charles I. 



Note C, p. 72. 

The duke of Northumberland has lately printed a household book 
of an old earl of that family, who lived at this time. The author has 
been favored with the perusal of it ; and it contains many curious 
particulars, which mark the manners and way of living in that rude, 
Qot to say barbarous, age ; as well as the prices of commodities. ] 
have extracted a few of them from that piece, which gives a true pic- 
ture of ancient manners, and is one of the most singular monuments 
that English antiquity affords us ; for we may be confident, however 
rude the strokes, that no baron's family was on a nobler or more 
splendid footing. The family consists of one hundred and sixty-six 
persons, masters and servants. Fifty-seven strangers are reckoned 
upon every day; on the whole, two hundred and twenty-three. Two- 
pence halfpenny are supposed to be the daily expense of each for 
meat, drink, and firing. This would make a groat of our present 
money. Supposing provisions between three and four times cheaper, 
.t would be equivalent to fourteenpence : no great sum for a noble- 
man's housekeeping ; especially considering that the chief expense 
of a family at that time consisted in meat and drink ; for the sum 
allotted by the earl for his whole annual expense is one thousand one 
hundred and eighteen pounds seventeen shillings and eightpence ; 
meat, drink, and firing cost seven hundred and ninety-six pounds 
elf Ten shillings and twopence, more than two thirds of the whole ; in 
a modern family it is not above a third, (p. 157, 158, 159.) The whole 
expense of the earl's family is managed with an exactness that is very 
rigid, and, if we make no allowance for ancient manners, such as 
may seem to border on an extreme ; insomuch that the number of 
pieces which must be cut out of every quarter of beef, mutton, pork, 
veal, nay, stock-fish and salmon, are determined, and must be entered 
and accounted for by the different clerks appointed for that purpose. 
If a servant be absent a day, his mess is struck off. If he go on my 
lord's business, board-wages are allowed him, eightpence a day for his 
journey in winter, fivepence in sumrr er. When he stays in any place, 
twopence a day are allowed him bes'.des the maintenance of hi* 



454 NOTES. 

horse. Somewhat above a quarter of wheat is allowed for everj 
mouth throughout the year; and the wheat is esteemed at five shib 
lings and eightpence a quarter. Two hundred and fifty quarters of 
malt are allowed, at four shillings a quarter. Two hogsheads are la 
be made of a quarter, which amounts to about a bottle and a third of 
beer a day to each person, (p. 4,) and the beer will not be very strong. 
One hundred and nine fat beeves are to be bought at Allhallow-tide. 
at thirteen shillings and fourpence apiece ; and twenty-four lean 
oeeves to be bought at St. Helen's, at eight shillings apiece. These 
fire to be put into the pastures to feed : and are to serve from Mid- 
summer to Michaelmas ; which is consequently the only time that the 
family eats fresh beef. During all the rest of the year they live on 
salted meat. (p. 5.) One hundred and sixty gallons of mustard are 
allowed in a year, which seems indeed requisite for the salt beef. 
(p. IS.) Six hundred and forty-seven sheep are allowed, at twenty- 
pence apiece ; and these seem also to be all eat salted, except between 
Lammas and Michaelmas, (p. 5.) Only twenty-five hogs are allowed, 
at two shillings apiece ; twenty-eight veals, at twentypence ; forty 
lambs, at tenpence or a shilling, (p. 7.) These seem to be reserved 
for my lord's table, or that of the upper servants, called the knights' 
table. The other servants, as they eat salted meat almost through 
the whole year, and with few or no vegetables, had a very bad and 
unhealthy dot: so that there cannot be any thing more erroneous 
than the magnificent ideas formed of "the roast beef of old England/' 
We must entertain as mean an idea of its cleanliness. Only seventy 
ells of linen, at eightpence an ell, are annually allowed for this grea. 
family. Ko sheets were used. This linen was made into eight table- 
cloths for my lord's table, and one table-cloth for the knights, (p. 16.) 
This last, 1 suppose, was washed only once a month. Only forty 
shillings are allowed for washing throughout the whole year ; and 
most oi it seems expended on the iinen belonging to the chapel. The 
drinking, however, was tolerable, namely, ten tuns and two hogsheads 
of Gascogny wine, at the rate of four pounds thirteen shillings anf 1 
fourpence a tun. (p. 6.) Only ninety-one dozen of candles for the 
whole year. (p. 14.) The family rose at six in the morning, dined at 
ten, and supped at four in the afternoon. The gates were all shut at 
nine, and no further ingress or egress permitted, (p. 314, 318.) My 
lord and lady have set on their table for breakfast at seven o'clock in 
,ne morning a quart of beer, aa much wine ; two pieces of salt fish, 
six red herrings, lour white ones, or a dish of sprats. In flesb days, 
half a chine of mutton, or a chine of beef boiled, (p. 73, 75.) Mass 
is ordered to be said at six o'clock, in order, says the household book, 
that all my lord's servants may rise early, (p. 170.) Only twenty- 
four fires are allowed, beside the kitchen and hall, and most of these 
have only a peck of coals a day aliowed them. (p. 99.) After Lady- 
day, no fires permitted in the rooms, except, half-fires in my lord's 
and lady's, and lord Piercy's and the nursery, (p. 101.) It is tfi be 
( f served, that my lord kept house in Yorkshire, where there is cer- 
tainly much cold weather after Lady-day. Eighty chalders of coals, 
at iuur shillings and twopence a chalder, suffices throughout the 
whole year ; and because coal will not burn without wood, says the 
household book, sixty-four loads of great wood are also allowed, at 
iwelvepenee a load. (p. 22.) This is a proof that grates were not thes 



NOTES- 45o 

used. Here is an article. "It is devised that from henceforth nc 
capons to be bought but only for my lord's own mess, and that the 
said capons shall be bought for twopence apiece, lean, and fed in the 
poultry ; and master chamberlain and the stewards be fed w'th capons, 
if there be strangers sitting with them." (p. 102.) Pigs are to ba 
bought at threepence or a groat a piece; geese at the same price; 
chickens at a halfpenny; hens at twopence, and only for the above- 
mentioned tables. Here is another article. "Item, it is thought 
good that no plovers be bought at no season but only in Christmas 
and principal feasts, and my lord to be served therewith and his board- 
end, and none other, and to be bought for a penny apiece, or a penny 
halfpenny at most." (p. 103.) Woodcocks are to be bought at the 
same price. Partridges at twopence, (p. 104, 105.) Pheasants a shil- 
ling; peacocks, the same. (p. 100.) My lord keeps only twenty-seven 
horses in his stable at. his own charge. His upper servants have 
allowance for maintaining their own horses, (p. 120.) These horses 
are six gentle horses, as they are called, at hay and hard meat 
throughout the whole year, four palfreys, three hobbies and nags, 
three sumpter horses, six horses for those servants to whom my lord 
furnishes a horse, two sumpter horses more, and three mill horses, 
two for carrying the corn, and one for grinding it ; whence we may 
infer that mills, either water or windmills, were then unknown, at 
least very rare; besides these, there are seven great trotting horses 
for the chariot or wagon. He allows a peck of oats a day, besides 
loaves made of beans, for his principal horses; the oats at twenty- 
pence, the beans at two shillings a quarter. The load of hay is at 
two shillings and eightpence. When my lord is on a journey, he 
carries thirty-six horsemen along with him ; together with bed and 
other accommodation, (p. 157.) The inns, it seems, could afford 
nothing tolerable. My lord passes the year in three country seats, all 
in Yorkshire; Wrysel. Leckenfield, and Topclyffe; but he has furni- 
ture only for one. He carries every thing along with him, beds, 
tables, chairs, kitchen utensils, all which, we may conclude, were so 
coarse, that they could not be spoilt by the carriage ; yet seventeen 
carts and one wagon suffice for the whole, (p. 391.) One wart 
suffices for all his kitchen utensils, cooks' beds, etc. (p. 3S8.) One 
remarkable circumstance is, that he has eleven priests in his house, 
besides seventeen persons, chanters, musicians, etc. belonging to his 
chapel; yet he has only two cooks for a family of two hundred and 
twenty-three persons, (p. 325.)* Their meals were certainly dressed 
in the slovenly manner of a ship's companv. It is amusing to observe 
the pompous and even royal style assumed by this Tartar chief. He 
does not give any orders, though only for the right making of mustard, 
but it is Introduced ^.vitli this preamble: "It seemeth good to us and 
our council." If we consider the magnificent and elegant manner in 
which the Venetian and other Italian noblemen then lived, with the 
progress made by the Italians in literature and the f&o arts, we shall 
not wonder that they considered the ultramontane nations as bar- 
barous. The Flemish also seem to have much excelled the English 



* In another place mention is made of four conks, (p. 388.) Hut [ Suppose Ilia) 
lb-- two servants, called in p. 355 groom of Hie larder stnd child of Hie scullery, ara 
to p. 3PP, comprehended in tin' autnb i I 



456 NOTES 

and even the French. Yet the earl is sometimes not deficient in gen 
crosity : he pays, for instance, an annua! pension of a groat a year to 
my lady of Walsinghara, for her interest ia neaven : the same sum to 
the holy blood at Hales, (p. 337.) No mention is any where made of 
plate ; but only of the hiring of pewter vessels. The servants seem 
all to have bought their own clothes from their -wages. 



Note D, p. 132. 

Protestant writers b"" a 'magined. that because a man could pui 
chase for a shilling an indulgence for the most enormous and unheard- 
of crimes, there must necessarily have ensued a total dissolution of 
morality, and consequently of civil society, from the practices of the 
Romish church. They do not consider, that after all these indul- 
gences were promulgated, there still remained (besides hell fire) the 
punishment by the civil magistrate, the infamy of the world, and 
secret remorses of conscience, which are the great motives that 
operate on mankind. The philosophy of Cicero, who allowed of an 
Elysium, but rejected all Tartarus, was a much more universal indul- 
gence than that preached by Arcemboldi or Tetzel ; yet nobody will 
suspect Cicero of any design to promote immorality. The sale of in- 
dul"ences seems, therefore, no more criminal than any other cheat of 
the church of Rome, or of any other church. The reformers, by 
entirely abolishing purgatory, did really, instead of partial indul 
gences sold by the pope, give, gratis, a general indulgence of a similar 
nature, for all crimes and offences, without exception or distinction. 
The souls once consigned to hell were never supposed to be redeem- 
able by any price. There is on record only one instance of a damned 
soul that was saved, and that by the special intercession of the Virgin. 
See Pascal's Provincial Letters. An indulgence saved the person who 
purchased it from purgatory only. 



Note E, p. 142. 

It is said, that when Henry heard that the commons made a great 
difficulty of granting the required supply, he was so provoked that ho 
sent for Edward Montague, one of the members, who had a consider- 
able influence on the house ; and he being introduced to his majesty, 
had the mortification to hear him speak in these words : " Ho ! man : 
will they not suffer my bill to pass?" And laying his hand on Mon- 
tague's head, who was then on his knees before him, "Get my bill 
passed by to-morrow, or else to-morrow this head of yours shall be 
off." This cavalier manner of Henry succeeded; for next day the 
bill passed. Collins's British Peerage. Grove's Life of "VVolsey. 
We are told by Hall, (fol. 38,) that Cardinal Wolsey endeavored to 
terrify the citizens of London into the general loan exacted in 1525, 
*nd told them plainly, that " it were better that some should suffer 
indigence than that the king at this time should lack ; and therefore 
how-are and resist not, nor ruffle not in this case, for it may fortune to 
cost some people their heads." Such was the style employed by thi? 
kins and h : .s ministers. 



NOTES. 467 



Note F, p. 177. 

The first article of the charge against the cardinal is his procuring 
the legatine power, which, however, as it was certainly done with the 
king's consent and permission, could be nowise criminal. Many of 
the other articles also regard the mere exercise of that power. Somo 
articles impute to him, as crimes, particular actions which were natt- 
ral or unavoidable to any man that was prime minister with so unlim- 
ited an authority; such as receiving first all letters from the king's 
ministers abroad, receiving first all visits from foreign ministers, de- 
siring that all applications should be made through him. He was 
also accused of naming himself with the king, as if he had been his 
fellow — "the king and I." It is reported that sometimes he even put 
his own name before the king's — "ego et rex meus." But this mode 
j£ expression is justified by the Latin idiom. It is remarkable, that his 
whispering in the king's ear, knowing himself to be affected with 
venereal distempers, is an article against him. Many of the charges 
are general, and incapable of proof. Lord Herbert goes so far as to 
affirm, that no man ever fell from so high a station who had so few 
real crimes objected to him. This opinion is perhaps a little too favor- 
able to the cardinal. Yet the refutation of the articles by Cromwell, 
and their being rejected by a house of commons, even in this arbitrary 
reign, is almost a demonstration of Wolsey's innocence. Henry was, 
no doubt, entirely bent on his destruction, when, on his failure by a 
parliamentary impeachment, he attacked him upon the statute of pro- 
visors, which afforded him so little just hold on that minister. For 
that this indictment was subsequent to the attack in parliament, 
appears by Cavendish's Life of Wolsey, and Stowe, (p. 551,) and 
more certainly by the very articles of impeachment themselves. Par- 
liamentary History, vol. iii. p. 42, article 7. Coke's Inst, part iv. 
fol. 89. 



Note G, p. 133. 

Even judging of this question by the Scripture, to which the appea. 
was every moment made, the arguments for the king's cause appear 
hut lame and imperfect. Marriage in the degree of affinity which 
had place between Henry and Catharine, is, indeed, prohibited in 
Leviticus ; but it is natural to interpret that prohibition as a part of 
the Jewish ceremonial or municipal law ; and though it is there said, 
in the conclusion, that the Gentile nations, by violating those degrees 
of consanguinity, had incurred the divine displeasure ; the extensiot 
of this maxim to every precise case before specified, is supposing the 
Scriptures to be composed with a minute accuracy and precision, to 
which, we know with certainty, the sacred penmen did not think 
proper to confine themselves. The descent of mankind from on« 
common father obliged them, in the first generation, to marry in the 
nearest degrees of consanguinity. Instances of a like nature occur 
among the patriarchs ; and the marriage of a brother's widow was, in 
certain cases, not only permitted, but even enjoined as a positive pre- 
sept, by the Mosaical law It is in vain to say that f.his precept was 
vol. in. — U 



158 NOTES. 

an exception to the rule, and an exception cclinned merely to the 
Jewish nation. The inference is still just, that such a marriage can 
contain no natural or moral turpitude ; otherwise God, who is the 
author of all purity, would never, in any case, have enjoined it. 



Note H, p. 191. 

Bishop Burnet has givet? ms an account of the number of bulls 
requisite for Cranmers installation. By one bull, directed to the 
king, he is, upon the royal nomination, made archbishop of Canter- 
bury. By a second, directed to himself, he is also made archbishop. 
By a third, he is absolved from all censures. A fourth is directed to 
the suffragans, requiring them to receive and acknowledge him as 
archbishop. A fifth to the dean and chapter, to the same purpose. 
A sixth to the clergy of Canterbury. A seventh to all the laity in 
his see. An eighth to all that held lands of it. By a ninth he was 
ordered to be consecrated, taking the oath that was in the pontifical. 
By a tenth the pall was sent him. By an eleventh the archbishop of 
York and the bishop of London were required to put it on him. 
These were so many devices to draw fees to offices which the popes 
had erected, and disposed of for money. It may be worth observing, 
that Cranmer, before he took the oath to the pope, made a protesta- 
tion, that he did not intend thereby to restrain himself from any thing 
that he was bound to, either by his duty to God, the king, or the 
country ; and that he renounced every thing in it that was contrary to 
any of these. This was the invention of some casuist, and not very 
compatible with that strict sincerity, and that scrupulous conscience, 
of which Cranmer made profession. Collier, vol. ii. in Coll. No. 2Q 
Burnet, vol. i. p. 128, 129. 

Note I, p. 203. 

Here are the terms in which the king ? s minister expressed himself 
to the pope. "An non, inquam, sanctitas vestra plerosque habet qui- 
buscum arcanum aliquid crediderit, putet id non minus celatum esse 
quam si uno tantum pectorc contineretur ; quod multo magis sere- 
nissimo Angliae regi evenire debet, cui singuli in suo regno sunt sub- 
jeeti, neque etiam velint, possunt regi non esse fidelissimi. Vae namque 
illis, si vel parvo momento ab illius voluntate recederent." Le Grand, 
torn. iii. p. 113. The king once said publicly before the council, that 
if any one spoke of him or his actions in terms which became them 
not, he would let them know that he was master. " Et qu'il n'y auroit 
si belle tete qu'il ne fit voler." Id. p. 218. 



Note K, p. 226. 

This letter contains so much nature, and even elegance, as to de- 
serve to be transmitted to posterity, without any alteration in the ex 
pression. It is as follows : — 

" Sir, your grace : s displeasure and my imprisonment are things so 
strange unto me, as what to write, or what to excuse, I am altogethei 



NOTES. *^ 

ignorant. Whereas you send unto me (willing me to confess a truth, 
and so obtain your favor) by such an one whom you know to be mine 
ancient professed enemy, I no sooner received this message by him, 
than I rightly conceived your meaning; and if, as you say, confessing 
a truth indeed may procure my safety, I shall with all willingness and 
duty perform your command. 

'■ But let not your grace ever imagine that your poor wife will evei 
be brought to acknowledge a fault where not so much as a thought 
thereof preceded. And, to speak a truth, never prince had wife more 
loyal in all duty, and in all true affection, than you have ever found 
in Anne Boleyn ; with which name and place I could willingly have 
contented myself, if God and } r our grace's pleasure had been so 
pleased. Neither did I at any time so far forget myself in my exalta- 
tion or received queenship, but that I always looked for such an 
alteration as I now find ; for the ground of my preferment being on no 
surer foundation than your grace's fancy, the least alteration I knew 
was fit and sufficient to draw that fancy to some other object. You 
have chosen me from a low estate to be your queen and companion, 
far beyond my desert or desire. If then you found me worthy of such 
honor, good your grace, let not any light fancy, or bad counsel of mine 
enemies withdraw your princely favor from me ; neither let that stain, 
that unworthy stain, of a disloyal heart towards your good grace, ever 
cast so foul a blot on your most dutiful wife, and the infant princess 
your daughter. Try me, good king, but let me have a lawful trial, 
and let not my sworn enemies sit as my accusers and judges; yea, 
let me receive an open trial, for my truth shall fear no open shame , 
then shall you see either mine innocence cleared, } r our suspicion and 
conscience satisfied, the ignominy and slander of the world stopped, 
or my guilt openly declared. So that, whatsoever God or you may 
determine of me, your grace may be freed from an open censure ; and 
mine offence being so lawfully proved, your grace is at liberty, both 
before God and man, not only to execute w r orthy punishment on me as 
an unlawful wife, but to follow your affection, already settled on that 
party for whose sake I am now as I am, whose name I could some 
good while since have pointed unto, your grace not being ignorant of 
my suspicion therein. 

"But if you have already determined of me, and that not only my 
death, but an infamous slander, must bring you the enjoying of your 
desired happiness ; then I desire of God, that he will pardon your great 
sin therein, and likewise mine enemies, the instruments thereof; and 
that he will not call you to a strict account, for your unprincely and 
cruel usage of me, at his general judgment-seat, where both you and 
myself must shortly appear, and in whose judgment, I doubt not, (what- 
soever the world may think of mc,) mine innocence shall be openly 
known and sufficiently cleared. 

" My last and only request shall be, that myself may only bear the 
burden of your grace's displeasure, and that it may not touch the 
innocent souls of those poor gentlemen, who, (as I understand,) are 
likewise in strait imprisonment for my sake- If ever I have found 
favor in your sight, if ever the name of Anne Boleyn hath been 
pleasing in your ears, then let me obtain this request ; and I will so 
leave to trouble your grace any further, with mine earnest prayors to 
the Trinity to have vour grace in his good keeping, and to direct you 



460 NOTES. 

in all your actions. From my doleful prison in the Tower, this sixtV 
of May. 

"Your most loyal and e>cr faithful wife, 

"ANNE BOLEYN." 



Note L, p. 234. 

A proposal had formerly been made in the convocation for the 
abolition of the lesser monasteries ; and had been much opposed by 
Bishop Fisher, who was then alive. He told his brethren, that this 
was fairly showing the king the way how he might come at the 
greater monasteries. "An axe," said he, "which wanted a handle, 
came upon a time into the wood, making his moan to the great trees, 
that he wanted a handle to work withal, and for that cause he was 
constrained to sit idle; therefore he made it his request to them, that 
they would be pleased to grant him one of their small saplings within 
the" wood to make him a handle; who, mistrusting no guile, granted 
him one of their smaller trees to make him a handle. But now be- 
coming a complete axe, he fell so to work within the same wood, that 
in process of time, there was neither great nor small trees to be found 
in the place where the wood stood. And so, my lords, if you grant 
the king these smaller monasteries, you do but make him a handle, 
whereby, at his own pleasure, he may cut down all the cedars within 
your Lebanons." Dr. Bailie's Life of Bishop Fisher, p. 108. 



Note M, p. 244. 

There is a curious passage with regard to the suppression of monas 
teries to be found in Coke's Institutes, 4th Inst. chap. i. p. 44. It is 
worth transcribing, as it shows the ideas of the English government, 
entertained during the reign of Henry VIII., and even in the time 
of Sir Edward Coke, when he wrote his Institutes. It clearly 
appears, that the people had then little notion of being jealous of 
their liberties, were desirous of making the crown quite independent, 
and wished only to remove from themselves, as much as possible, the 
burdens of government. A large standing army, and a fixed revenue, 
would, on these conditions, have been regarded as great blessings , 
and it was owing entirely to the prodigality of Henry, and to his little 
suspicion that the power of the crown could ever fail, that the Eng- 
ilish owe all their present liberty. The title of the chapter in Coke, 
is, " Advice concerning new and plausible Projects and Offers in 
Parliament." " When any plausible project," says he, " is made in 
parliament, to draw the lords and commons to assent to any act, 
(especially in matters of weight and importance,) if both houses do 
( give upon the matter projected and promised their consent, it shall 
the moit necessary, they -being trusted for the commonwealth, to hav.i 
'the matter projected and promised (which moved the houses to con- 
sent) to be established in the same act, lest the benefit of the act be 
taken, and the matter projected and promised never performed, and 
no the houses of parliament perform not the trust reposed in them, a» 



NOTES. 463 

.t fell out (taking one example for many) in the reigi of Henry VIII. 
On the king's behalf, the members of both houses wire informed in 
parliament, that no king or kingdom was safe but where the king had 
three abilities : 1. To live of his own, and able to defend his kingdom 
upon any sudden invasion or insurrection. 2. To aid his confederates, 
otherwise they would never assist him. 3. To reward his well- 
deserving servants. Now, the project was, that if the parliament 
would give unto him all the abbeys, priories, friaries, nunneries, and 
other monasteries, that, forever in time then to come, he would take 
order that the same should not be converted to private uses ; but first, 
that his exchequer for the purposes aforsaid, should be enriched ; 
secondly, the kingdom strengthened by a continual maintenance of 
forty thousand well-trained soldiers, with skilful captains and com- 
manders ; thirdly, for the benefit and ease of the subject, who never 
afterwards, (as was projected.) in any time to come, should be charged 
with subsidies, fifteenths, loans, or other common aids ; fourthly, lest 
the honor of the realm should receive any diminution of honor by the 
dissolution of the said monasteries, there being twenty-nine lords of 
parliament of the abbots and priors, (that held of the king ' per baro- 
niam,' whereof more in the next leaf,) that the king would create a 
number of nobles, which we omit. The said monasteries were given 
to the king by authority of divers acts of parliament, but no provision 
was therein made for the said project, or any part thereof." 



Note N, p. 252. 

Collier, in his Ecclesiastical History, (vol. ii. p. 152,) has preserved 
an account which Cromwell gave of this conference, in a letter to Sir 
Thomas Wyat, the king's ambassador in Germany. " The king's 
majesty," says Cromwell, "for the reverence of the holy sacrament 
of the altar, did sit openly in his hall, and there presided at the dis- 
putation, process, and judgment of a miserable heretic sacramentary, 
who was burned the twentieth of November. It was a wonder to 
see how princely, with how excellent gravity, and inestimable majes- 
ty, his highness exercised there the very office of supreme head of 
the church of England. How benignly his grace essayed to convert 
the miserable man ; how strong and manifest reasons his highness 
alleged against him. I wish the princes and potentates of Christen- 
dom to have had a meet place to have seen it. Undoubtedly they 
should have much marvelled at his majesty's most high wisdom and 
judgment, and reputed him no otherwise after the same, than in a 
manner the mirror and light of all other kings and princes in Christen- 
dom." It was by such flatteries that Henry was engaged to make his 
eentiments the standard to all mankind ; and was determined to enforce, 
by the severest penalties, bis "strong" and "manifest" reasons for 
transubstantiation. 



Note 0, p. 254. 



There is a story, that the duke of Norfolk, meeting, soon after this- 
ut was passed, onp of his chaplains, win was suspected of favoring 



4<>2 NOTES. 

the reformation, said to him, "Now, sir, what think you of the law to 
hinder priests from having wives?" "Yes, my lord," replies tha 
chaplain, "you have done that; but I will answer for it you cannot 
hinder men's wives from having priests." 



Note P, p. 265. 

To show how much Henry sported with law and common sense , 
ow servilely the parliament followed all his caprices, and how much 
Both of them were lost to all sense of shame, an act was passed this 
session, declaring that a precontract should be no ground for annulling 
a marriage ; as if that pretext had not been made use of both in the 
case of Anne Boleyn and Anne of Cleves, But the king's intention in 
this law is said to be a design of restoring the princess Elizabeth to 
her right of legitimacy; and it was his character never to look farther 
than the present object, without regarding the inconsistency of his con- 
duct. The parliament made it high treason to deny the dissolution of 
Henry's marriage with Anne of Cleves. Herbert. 



Note Q, p. 274. 

It was enacted by this parliament, that there should be trial ol 
treason in any county where the king should appoint by commission. 
The statutes of treason had been extremely multiplied in this reign ; 
and such an expedient saved trouble and charges in trying that 
crime. The same parliament erected Ireland into a kingdom; and 
Henry henceforth annexed the title of king of Ireland to his other 
titles. This session the commons first began the practice of freeing 
any of their members who were arrested, by a writ issued by the 
speaker. Formerly it was usual for them to apply for a writ from 
chancery to that purpose. This precedent increased the authority of 
the commons, and had afterwards important consequences. Holing- 
*hed, p. 955, 956. Baker, p. 289. 



Note R, p. 281. 

The persecutions exercised during James's reign are not to be as- 
cribed to his bigotry, a vice of which he seems to have been as free as 
Francis I. or the emperor Charles, both of whom, as well as James, 
showed, in different periods of their lives, even an inclination to tha 
new doctrines. The extremities to which all these princes were car- 
ried, proceeded entirely from the situation of affairs during that age, 
which rendered it impossible for them to act with greater temper oi 
moderation, after they had embraced the resolution of supporting the 
ancient establishments. So vio ^nt was the propensity of the times 
towards innovation, that a bare toleration of the new preachers wa§ 
equivalent to a formed design of changing the national religion. 



NOTES. 



463 



Note S, p. 331. 

Spotswood, p. 75. The same author (p. 92) tells us a story which 
Confirms this character of the Popish clergy in Scotland. It became a 
great dispute in the university of St. Andrew's, whether the pater 
should be said to God or the saints. The friars, who knew in general 
that the reformers neglected the saints, were determined to maintain 
their honor with great obstinacy ; but they knew not upon what topics 
to found their doctrine. Some held that the pater was said to God 
formaliter, and to saints materialiter; others, to God principaliter, and 
to saints minus principalitcr ; others would have it ultimate and non 
ultimate : but the majority seemed to hold that the pater was said to 
God capiendo strictc, and to saints capiendo large. A simple fellow, 
who served the sub-prior, thinking there was some great matter in 
hand that made the doctors hold so many conferences together, asked 
him one day what the matter was : the sub-prior answering, " Tom," 
(that was the fellow's name,) "we cannot agree to whom the pater 
noster should be said." He suddenly replied, "To whom, sir, should 
it be said, but unto God?" Then said the sub-prior, "What shall we 
do with the saints?" He answered, "Give them aves and creeds 
enow, in the devil's name ; for that may suffice them." The ansvref 
going abroad, many said, " that he had given a wiser decision than all 
the doctors had done, with all their distinctions." 



Note T, p. 351. 

Another act, passed this session, takes notice, in the preamble, that 
the city of York, formerly well inhabited, was now much decayed; 
insomuch that many of the cures could not afford a competent main- 
tenance to the incumbents. To remedy this inconvenience, the magis- 
trates were empowered to unite as many parishes as they thought 
pioper. An ecclesiastical historian (Collier, vol. ii. p. 230) thinks that 
this decay of York is chiefly to be ascribed to the dissolution of monas- 
teries, by which the revenues fell into the hands of persons who lived 
at a distance. 

A very grievous tax was imposed this session upon the whole stock 
and moneyed interest of the kingdom, and even upon its industry. It 
was a shilling in the pound yearly, during three years, on every per- 
son worth ten pounds or upwards ; the double on aliens and deni- 
zens. These last, if above twelve years of age, and if worth less 
than twenty shillings, were to pay eightpence yearly. Every wether 
was to pay twopence yearly ; every ewe, threepence. The woollen 
manufactures were to pay eightpence a pound on the value of all the 
cloth they made. These exorbitant taxes on money are a proof tha 
few people lived on money lent at interest; for this tax amounts ta 
half of the yearly income of all money-holders, during three years, 
estimating their interest at the rate allowed by law ; and was too 
grievous to be borne, if many persons had been affected by it. It ia 
remarkable, that no tax at all was laid upon land this session. The 
nrolits of merchandise were commonly so high, that it was supposed 



4b4 NOTES. 

t could bear this imposition. The most absurd part of the laws seems 
to be the tax upon the woollen manufactures. See 2 and 3 Edward VI. 
cap. 36. The subsequent parliament repealed the tax on sheep and 
woollen cloth. 3 and 4 Edward VI. cap. 23. But they continued the 
other tax a year longer. Ibid. 

The clergy taxed themselves at six shillings in the pound, to be paid 
in three years. This taxation was ratified in parliament, which had 
been the common practice since the reformation, implying that the 
clergy have no legislative power, even over themselves. See 2 and 3 
Edward VI. cap. 35. 



Note U, p. 412. 

The pope at first gave Cardinal Pole powers to transact only with 
regard to the past fruits of the church lands ; but being admonished 
of the danger attending any attempt towards a resumption of the lands, 
he enlarged the cardinal's powers, and granted him authority to insure 
the future possession of the church lands to the present proprietors. 
There was only one clause in the cardinal's powers that has given 
occasion for some speculation. An exception was made of such cases 
as Pole should think important enough to merit the being communi- 
cated to the holy see. But Pole simply ratified the possession of all 
the church lands; and his commission had given him full powers to 
that purpose. See Harleian Miscellany, vol. vii. p. 264, 266. It is 
true, some councils have declared, that it exceeds even the power of 
the pope to alienate any church lands; and the pope, according to 
his convenience or power, may either adhere to, or recede from, this 
declaration. But every year gave solidity to the right of the proprie- 
tors of church lands, and diminished the authority of the popes ; so 
that men's dread of popery in subsequent times was more founded on 
party or religious zeal, than on very solid reasons. 



Note V, p. 448. 

The passage of Holingshed, in the Discourse prefixed to his His 
tory, and which some ascribe to Harrison, is as follows. Speaking of 
the increase of luxury: "Neither do I speak this in reproach of any 
man, God is my judge ; but to show that I do rejoice rather to see 
how God has blessed us with his good gifts, and to behold how that in 
a time wherein all things are grown to most excessive prices, we do 
yet find the means to obtain and atchieve such furniture as hereto- 
fore has been impossible. There are old men yet dwelling in the vil- 
.age where I remain, which have noted three things to be marvel- 
lously altered in England, within their sound remembrance. One is, 
the multitude of chimneys lately erected ; whereas in their young 
days, there were not above two or three, if so many, in most upland- 
tsh towns of the realm ; (the religious houses and manor-places of 
their lords always excepted, and peradventure some great personage ;) 
but each made his fire against a reredosse in the ha'l where he dined 
and dressed his meat. The second is, the great amendment of lodg 



NOTES 46A 

mg ; for, said they, our fathers and we ourselves have lain full oft 
upon straw pallettes covered only with a sheet under coverlets made 
M dagswainc or hopharlots, (I use their own terms,) and a good 
round log under their head instead of a bolster. If it were so, that 
the father or the goodman of the house had a matrass or flock-bed, 
and thereto a sack of chaff" to rest his head upon, he thought himself 
to be as well lodged as the lord of the town, so well were they con- 
tented. Pillows, said they, were thought meet only for women in 
childbed. As for servants, if they had any sheet above them, it was 
well ; for seldom had they any under their bodies to keep them from 
the prickling straws, that ran oft through the canvass, and razed their 
hardened hydes. The third thing they tell of is, the exchange of 
treene platers (so called, I suppose, from tree or wood) into pewter, 
and wooden spoons into silver or tin. For so common were all sorts 
of treene vessels in old time, that a man should hardly find four 
pieces of pewter (of which one was peradventure a salt) in a good 
farmer's house." Description of Britain, chap. x. Again, in chap, 
xvi. : " In times past, men were contented to dwell in houses builded 
of sallow, willow, etc. : so that the use of the oak was in a manner 
dedicated wholly unto churches, religious houses, princes' palaces, 
navigation, etc., but now sallow, etc., are rejected, and nothing but 
oak any where regarded. And yet see tne change; for when our 
houses were builded of willow, then had we oaken men; but now 
that our houses are come to be made of oak, our men are not only 
become willow, but a great many altogether of straw, which is a sore 
alteration. In these the courage of the owner was a sufficient 
defence to keep the house in safety ; but now the assurance of the 
timber must defend the men from robbing. Now have we many 
chimnies ; and yet our tenderlines complain of rheums, catarrhs, 
and poses ; then had we none but reredosscs, and our heads did 
never ache. For as the smoke in those days was supposed to be a 
sufficient hardening for the timber of the house, so it was reputed a 
far better medicine to keep the good man and his family from the 
quacke or pose, wherewith, as then, very few were acquainted." 
Again, in chap, xviii. : " Our pewterers in time past employed the 
use of pewter only upon dishes and pots, and a few other trifles for 
service ; whereas now, they are grown into such exquisite cunning, 
that they can in manner imitate by infusion any form or fashion of 
cup, dish, salt, or bowl or goblet, which is made by goldsmith's craft, 
though they be never so curious, and very artificially forged. In 
some places beyond the sea, a garnish of good flat English pewter (I 
say flat, because dishes and platers in my time begin to be made deep, 
and like basons, and are indeed more convenient, both for sauce and 
keeping the meat warm) is almost esteemed so precious as the like 
number of vessels that are made of fine silver." If the reader is 
curious to know the hour of meals in Queen Elizabeth's reign, he may 
learn it from the same author. " With us the nobility, gentry, and 
students, do ordinarily go to dinner at eleven before noon, and to supper 
at five, or between five and six at afternoon. The merchants dine and 
sup seldom before twelve at noon and six at night, especially in Lon- 
don. The husbandmen dine also at high noon, as they call it, and sup 
at seven or eight: but out of term in our universities the scholars din 
ai ten." 
vol. in. u* 



466 NOTES 

Froissart mentions waiting on the duke of Lancastei at five o'elocl 
in the afternoon, -when he had supped. These hours are still more 
early. It is hard to tell, why, all over the world, as the age becomes 
more luxurious, the hours beoome later. Is it the crowd of amuse- 
ments that push on the hours gradually ? or are the people of fashion 
better pleased with the secrecy and silence of nocturnal hours, when 
the industrious vulgar are all gone to rest? In rude ages, men have 
few amusements or occupations but what daylight affords them 



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