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Studies from Court and Cloister: being essays, historical and literary dealing mainly with subjects relating to the XVIth and XVIIth centuries

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Title: Studies from Court and Cloister: being essays, historical and literary dealing mainly with subjects relating to the XVIth and XVIIth centuries

Author: J. M. Stone


        
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Language: English

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Etext prepared by Dianne Bean, Prescott Valley, Arizona.

STUDIES FROM COURT AND CLOISTER BEING ESSAYS, HISTORICAL AND LITERARY,
DEALING MAINLY WITH SUBJECTS RELATING TO THE XVITH AND XVIITH CENTURIES

BY J. M. STONE

AUTHOR OF "MARY THE FIRST, QUEEN OF ENGLAND," "REFORMATION AND
RENAISSANCE," ETC.

LONDON AND EDINBURGH
SANDS AND COMPANY
ST LOUIS, MO.
B. HERDER, 17 SOUTH BROADWAY
1908

PREFACE

These studies on various crucial points connected with the history of
religion in Europe at the close of the Middle Ages, its decline,
revival, and the causes which led to both, have already appeared in
print as regards their general outline, although they have for the most
part been rewritten, added to, and in each case subjected to a careful
revision.

Three of them were originally published in the Dublin Review, four in
the Scottish Review, two in Blackwood's Magazine, and three in the
Month. One was a contribution to the American Catholic Quarterly
Review. By the courtesy of the respective editors of these publications
I am enabled to gather them together in this volume.

It will be seen at a glance that a certain cohesion, historical and
chronological, exists in their present arrangement, especially with
reference to Part I.

The two first studies concern Henry VIII. and his sister the Queen of
Scots, the significance of their matrimonial affairs, and the relations
which their policy created between England, Scotland, France, and the
Empire. The third study has for its subject the distinguished and
much-maligned Lieutenant of the Tower of London, who contributed so
largely to the accession of the rightful sovereign, and who was
appointed to be governor of the Princess Elizabeth during her captivity
at Woodstock. His subsequent persecution for the sake of religion was
the consequence of Henry VIIIth's rupture with Rome, and Elizabeth's
repudiation of England's Catholic past. And as we can only gain an
intelligible view of any historical movement by studying its context,
its broad outlines, and its connection with foreign nations, the fourth
essay describes the condition to which the religious revolution had
reduced Germany in the sixteenth century, and the reconversion of a
great part of that country, as well as of Austria and Switzerland, to
the Catholic faith. This was the work of the Jesuit, Peter Canisius,
and we are thus led to a consideration of the newly-founded Society of
Jesus and its methods. Its members soon became noted for sanctity and
learning, and emperors, kings, and royal princes clamoured for Jesuits
as confessors. The manner in which these acquitted themselves of the
difficult and unwelcome task imposed on them, is unconsciously revealed
by themselves, in the private correspondence of members of the old
Society, which has now been given to the world by one of their Order.
Selections from this correspondence are contained in the fifth study.
As a further result of the revolution that had been effected in the
casting off of old beliefs and traditions, we note the revival of
Pantheism, an ancient, atheistic philosophy, whose modern apostle was
the celebrated Giordano Bruno. His otherwise fruitless visit to England
left a deep impression on certain minds, learned and ignorant, and we
begin for the first time to hear of examinations and prosecutions for
atheism in this country. And this forms the subject of the sixth essay.
The recoil that invariably takes place after any great political,
social, or religious upheaval was not wanting to the Reformation in
England, and in the reign of Charles I. High-Churchism, under
Archbishop Laud, was thought to indicate a desire on the part of the
royalists for a return to Catholic unity. A Papal agent was dispatched
to England to negotiate between the Catholic Queen, Henrietta Maria and
Cardinal Barberini, with a view to the conversion of her husband, which
would, it was hoped, ultimately issue in the corporate reunion of the
country with Rome.

Thus, Part I. deals with some of the persons who had "their exits and
their entrances", who made history during this interesting period. Part
II. treats more especially the books and manuscripts connected with it.
The theme is therefore the same.

Even before England was England, she was the Isle of Saints, and
throughout the Middle Ages religion was her chief care, in a manner
almost incredible in this secular and materialistic age. She not only
covered the land with magnificent churches and cathedrals, to the
architecture of which we cannot in these days approach, even by
imitation, distantly, but she also built huge monasteries, and these
monasteries were the cradles, the homes of vast stores of
ever-accumulating knowledge. A system of philosophy, to which the world
is even now returning, recognising that there is no better training for
the human intellect, is so distinctly mediaeval, that all that savoured
even remotely of St. Thomas Aquinas or Duns Scotus in the University
was utterly destroyed in a great bonfire made at Oxford in 1549. At the
dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII., the labour, the
learning, the genius of centuries were as nought. Exquisitely written
and illuminated Bibles, missals and other choice manuscripts,
displaying a wealth of palaeographic art to which we have lost the key,
were torn from their jewelled bindings, and were either thrown aside to
spoil and rot, or to become the prey of any who needed wrappers for
small merchandise. It is a marvel that so many should have escaped
destruction, to be collected when men had returned to their sane
senses, and formed again into libraries for the delight and instruction
of posterity to the end of time. And almost as strange as this
circumstance, is the fact that so few among us know of the existence of
these treasures which have become our national inheritance. Otherwise,
how could the reviewer of one of our foremost literary publications, in
his notice of the exhibition of medieval needlework at the Burlington
Fine Arts Club, in the spring of 1905, have discovered in it a
surprising revelation of the "refinement" of the Middle Ages?

The three last studies in the present volume are, therefore, devoted to
a description of some of the precious spoils of mediaeval refinement.
Where all is so splendidly beautiful, so deeply erudite, or so tenderly
naif, choice is difficult; but at all events, here are a few of the
priceless gems with which the Dark Ages have endowed a scornful
after-world.

And lest it should be supposed that all this mediaeval piety and
devotion sprang up suddenly, with no apparent raison d'etre, I have
gone further back, and have shown that with the first dawn of
Christianity over these Islands, religion was no other than in the
twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries. The Arthurian legends,
which Sir Thomas Malory wove into one consecutive whole, had been
handed down from generation to generation for many hundreds of years.
Sometimes they had been written in the French language, but they lived
in the minds of the people, and Sir Lancelot, who died "a holy man,"
was as vivid and real to them as was Richard, the troubadour king. With
the story of his sharp penance, his fasting and prayers for the soul of
Guinevere, was also handed down incidentally the tradition of Britain's
obedience to the "Apostle Pope".

Some time after the Anglo-Saxon conquest, in the eighth century, was
set up a wonderful churchyard Cross at Ruthwell in Scotland, a
"folk-book in stone," alluded to in the Act passed by the General
Assembly of the Church of Scotland in 1642, "anent the Idolatrous
Monuments in Ruthwell," and already two years previously condemned by
that enlightened body to be "taken down, demolished, and destroyed."
The story of this ancient Cross, and that of the runes carved upon it,
form the subject of the opening study of Part II.

Little need be said here of Foxe, the great calumniator of Queen Mary's
bishops. His book, which so long deceived the world, is no more the
power it once was, but in it lay the venom which poisoned the wells, as
far as the ill-fated reign of Mary was concerned; and the essay which
deals with it could scarcely have been omitted.

In the hope that I have been enabled to throw a faint ray of additional
light on some vexed but interesting questions, this volume is put
forward.

J. M. S.

September 1905.



CONTENTS

PART I

I. MARGARET TUDOR

II. NOR WIFE NOR WIDOW

III. A NOTABLE ENGLISHMAN

IV. THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION IN GERMANY

V. JESUITS AT COURT

VI. GIORDANO BRUNO IN ENGLAND

VII. CHARLES THE FIRST AND THE POPISH PLOT

PART II

I. THE RUNIC CROSSES OF NORTHUMBRIA

II. A MISSING PAGE FROM THE "IDYLLS OF THE KING"

III. FOXES BOOK OF ERRORS

IV. THE SPOILS OF THE MONASTERIES

V. THE ROYAL LIBRARY

VI. THE HARLEIAN COLLECTION OF MANUSCRIPTS



STUDIES FROM COURT AND CLOISTER

I. MARGARET TUDOR

Notwithstanding the spy-system which was brought to so great a
perfection under the Tudors, the study of human nature was in their
days yet in its infancy. The world had long ceased to be ingenuous, but
nations had not yet learned civilised methods of guarding themselves
against their enemies. At a time when distrust was general, it was
easier, like Machiavelli, to erect deceit and fraud into a science, and
to teach the vile utility of lying, than to scrutinise character and
weigh motives. It was then generally understood that opponents might
legitimately be hoodwinked to the limits of their gullibility; but it
was reserved for Lord Chesterfield, two centuries later, to show how a
man's passions must be studied with microscopic intensity in order to
discover his prevailing passion, and how, that passion once discovered,
he should never be trusted where it was concerned. The study of men's
characters and motives as we understand it, formed no part of the
policy of sixteenth-century statecraft, or Wolsey would not have been
disgraced, or Thomas Cromwell's head have fallen on the block. Wolsey
and Cromwell were the subtlest statesmen of their age; indeed, in them
statecraft may be said to have had its dawn; yet Henry VIII., by the
sheer force of his tyranny and despotic will, baffled them both. While
Cromwell, the greatest genius in Europe, thought he held all the
threads of intrigue in his own hands, his royal master by the dogged
pursuit of one end overthrew the minister's entire scheme. Saturated
though he was with Machiavellian theories, a man of one book, and that
book The Prince, Cromwell lost all by his inability to read the bent of
Henry's mind and purpose.

Henry VIII. and his elder sister, Margaret, were strikingly alike in
character. Both proved themselves to be cruel, vindictive,
unscrupulous, sensual, and vain. Both were extraordinarily clever, but
Henry being far better educated than his sister, contrived to cut a
much more imposing, if not a more dignified, figure. In the matter of
intrigue, there was nothing to choose between them. That Henry
succeeded where Margaret failed, was owing to the fact that
circumstances were in his favour and not in hers. Given two such
characters, the only parts that were possible to them were dominating
ones. Henry was master of the situation all through the piece; Margaret
was not, but she could play no other part. Had she been differently
constituted, had she been barely honest, true, constant, and pure,
there is no limit to the love and loyalty she would certainly have
inspired.

But, for want of insight into Margaret Tudor's disposition, the
Scottish people were repeatedly betrayed by one whose interests they
fondly hoped had become, by marriage with their king, identical with
their own. She had come among them at an age when new impressions are
quickly taken and experiences of every kind have necessarily been very
limited, but to the end of her days she remained an alien in their
midst.

From the moment that she set foot in Scotland, as a bride of thirteen,
she began to sow discord; but although it was soon apparent that she
would seize every occasion to turn public events to her own profit,
James IV. had so mistaken a belief in her one day becoming a good
Scotswoman, that when he went to his death on Flodden Field, he left
the whole welfare of his country in her hands. Not only did he confide
the treasure of the realm to her custody, but by his will he appointed
her to the Regency, with the sole guardianship of his infant son.

Such a thing was unprecedented in Scotland, and it needed all the
fidelity of the Scottish lords to their chivalrous sovereign, as well
as their enthusiasm for his young and beautiful widow, to induce them
to tolerate an arrangement so distasteful to them all. Had Margaret
cared to fit herself for the duties that lay before her, her lot might
have been a brilliant one. Instead of the wretched wars which made a
perpetual wilderness of the Borders, keeping the nation in a constant
state of ferment, an advantageous treaty would have secured prosperity
to both England and Scotland, while the various disturbing factions,
which rendered Scotland so difficult to govern by main force, would
gradually have subsided under the gentle influence of a queen who
united all parties through the loyalty she inspired. Fierce and
rebellious as were so many of the elements which went to make up the
Scottish people at that time, Margaret had a far easier task than her
grand-daughter, Mary Stuart, for at least fanatical religious
differences did not enter into the difficulties she had to encounter.
But such a queen of Scotland as would have claimed the respect and won
the lasting love of her subjects was by no means the Margaret Tudor of
history, as she stands revealed in her correspondence.

While James IV. lived she had comparatively few opportunities of
betraying State secrets, but from the disaster of Flodden to her death,
her history is one long series of intrigues, the outcome of her ruling
passions--vanity and greed. Her first short-sighted act of treachery
after the death of James was to appropriate to her own use the treasure
which he had entrusted to her for his successors, the queen thereby
incurring life-long retribution in her ineffectual attempts to wring
her jointure from an exchequer which she had herself wantonly
impoverished. Hence the tiresome and ridiculous wrangling in connection
with her "conjunct feoffment," neither Margaret nor Henry being
conscious, in the complete absence of all sense of humour on their
part, that the situation was occasionally grotesque. Stolidly unmindful
of the effect they produced on the minds of others in the pursuit of
their own selfish ends, they pursued the tenor of their way with
bucolic doggedness. The doggedness ended in the defeat of all Henry's
enemies; in Margaret's case it ended in her own.

The eleven months which elapsed between the 9th September 1513 to the
4th August 1514, were the most eventful of her whole life. The
catastrophe of Flodden left her, perhaps not without cause, the least
mournful woman in Scotland, for James IV., with all the heroism that
attaches to his name, had little claim to be called a faithful husband.
Unhindered, therefore, by any excess of grief, she was the better able
to attend to the affairs of State, and to hasten the coronation of her
little son, a baby of one year and five months. In December she
convened the Parliament of Scotland to meet at Stirling Castle, and
formally took up the dignity of regent with the consent of the
assembled nobility of the realm. At this sitting the greatest unanimity
prevailed. In the Acts of the Privy Council of Scotland, under date
12th January 1514, occurs the following entry: "To advise of the
setting up of the Queen's household, and what persons and officers are
necessary thereto, and to advise of the expenses for the supportation
of the same, and by what ways it shall be gotten." All was peace for a
short time, and the most friendly relations existed between the queen
and her Council, till the first high-handed attempt of Henry VIII. to
interfere through his sister in the government of Scotland, resulted in
her temporary banishment, and the removal of the infant king from his
mother's care.*

* P. Martyr, Ep. 535. For a detailed account of the state of Scotland
for the first nine years after the disastrous defeat at Flodden, see
vol. xiv. Of the Exchequer Rolls of Scotland, edited by George Burnett,
LL.D., Lyon King-of-Arms, and A. Y. G. Mackay, M.A. (Oxon.), LL.D.
(Edin.), etc., His Majesty's General Register House, Edinburgh.


On the 30th April Margaret gave birth to a posthumous son, who received
the title of Duke of Rothesay; and scarcely had she reappeared in
public after the birth of this child, when an envoy from the Emperor
Maximilian brought overtures of marriage. About the same time, she
received a like proposal from Louis XII. of France, who afterwards
married her younger sister Mary. Dismissing both aspirants to her hand,
before the first year of her widowhood had run its course, she married
Archibald, Earl of Angus, Margaret being in her twenty-fifth, he in his
nineteenth year. The union was equally unfortunate for the queen
herself and for her wretched husband, who, when the first charm of
novelty had passed, was disdainfully flung aside, and never restored to
favour.

There was an ancient custom of the realm, which placed the executive
power and the person of the king, should he be a minor at the death of
the preceding sovereign, in the hands of the next male heir, and the
appointment of James's widow to the regency and the guardianship of his
son was made in distinct disregard of all recognised precedent. The
consent of the Scottish lords to the innovation had been given entirely
from a sense of loyalty to their beloved and unfortunate monarch James
IV. But a proviso had been made in his will, that in the event of the
queen's remarriage, the regency, as well as the guardianship of the
king, should pass to John, Duke of Albany, the next heir to the throne.

But Margaret, who had not scrupled to make away with the royal
treasure, was scarcely likely to be very conscientious in regard to the
duty of laying down a sceptre, the pleasantness of which she had only
just begun to taste. She was already at variance with her Council, who,
in despair of any order being established, had invited Albany, then in
France, to come over and take up the reins of government. As early as
April 1514, a Bill for his recall had been read in Parliament, and it
was formally enacted that all the fortresses in Scotland should be
given up, a blow aimed primarily at Stirling, the queen's chief
stronghold.* Here she and Angus had shut themselves up, on hearing that
Beaton, Archbishop of Glasgow, was marching on Edinburgh. They were
captured, but escaped and returned to Stirling, where they were
besieged by John Hepburn, Prior of St. Andrews.

* Brewer--Preface to Cal. 2, part i. (note).


Margaret, assuming a tone of injured innocence, wrote to Henry VIII.,
telling him that she and her party are in great trouble till they know
what help he will give them; that her enemies continue to usurp the
king's authority in Parliament, holding her and her friends to be
rebels; and she entreats him to hasten his army against Scotland by sea
and by land.* This was clearly as much an act of treason as if she had
deliberately invited any other foreign enemy to come and take
possession of the realm; for although her object was merely to regain
the powers she had lost by her own acts, she could estimate the ruin
which would have resulted to Scotland, if Henry had really been in a
position to invade the country. His answer to her appeal was to send
the most urgent instructions to his sister to prevent Albany's landing
by every means at her disposal. In the meanwhile she waited
impatiently, but in vain, for both troops and money from Henry, who did
not think it necessary to inform her that the French king had agreed to
detain Albany in France, on condition that his dear cousin should send
his sister no help, but leave the various parties in Scotland to fight
out their quarrels alone.

* Queen Margaret to Henry VI II., 23rd November 1514; MS. Cott., Calig.
B 1, 164; Brit. Mus.


As a result of this policy, Margaret at last began to find her position
intolerable, and she, no less than her enemies looked forward to the
duke's arrival as a means of extricating herself from a labyrinth of
difficulties. This was perhaps what Francis I. had foreseen;
notwithstanding his promise to Henry, he had no intention of
permanently preventing Albany, who was more than half a Frenchman, from
assuming a dignity that would result in a strong bond of union between
Scotland and France. Albany was therefore quietly allowed to escape at
a given moment; and when, after running the gauntlet of Henry's ships,
which were watching for him, he landed in Scotland, Margaret resolved,
for once wisely, to be friends with him.*

* Seb. Giustinian to the Doge, London, 5th August 1515; Venetian
Archives.


But Henry instructed Lord Dacre, the formidable chief of the Marches,
to stir up all the strife possible between his sister, the new regent,
and the Scottish lords, and accordingly, whenever there was a sign of a
better understanding between the three parties, Dacre was always
careful to insinuate to the queen that her brother was her best friend.
Finding that Albany had escaped the vigilance of his fleet, Henry wrote
a high-handed letter to the Scottish Council requesting that he might
be sent back to France forthwith. Their reply was as dignified as
Albany's own conduct throughout, and in strong contrast to Margaret's
attitude. They have, they say, received Henry's letter, dated 1st July
1516, desiring them to remove John, Duke of Albany, the regent from the
person of their king, in order to promote the amity of the two realms.
The duke was chosen Protector by the unanimous voice of the Three
Estates, and was sent for by them from France; he left his master, his
lady, his living; he has taken great pains in the king's service; he
has given, and proposes to give, no cause for dissatisfaction, and if
he would leave, they would not let him. Moreover, it is in exact
conformity with their laws that the nearest in succession should have
the governance; security has been taken by the queen and others to
remove all cause of suspicion, and they will spend their lives if any
attempt be made against his Highness.* This document was signed and
sealed by twenty-eight spiritual and temporal lords, whose names are
still legible. Ten other names are mutilated beyond recognition,
although their seals remain.

* Scottish lords to Henry VIII., 4th July 1516; Record Office.


Albany had meanwhile written to Lord Dacre, denying that he had usurped
the king's authority, and declaring that he had done nothing but by
order of the Estates of the realm. But Henry was bent on picking a
quarrel with him, and Dacre's letter to the King of England's Council
shows the part which Dacre was instructed to play in the troubles of
Scotland, fomenting feuds between Albany and every member of his
government, in the hope of driving him out of the country.* Difficult,
however, as Henry's policy made it, the regent was bent on maintaining
peace, and would probably have succeeded but for Margaret.**

* Cotton MS., Calig. B 2, 341; Brit. Mus.

** Albany to Dacre,10th August 1515; R.O.


The good understanding between the regent and the queen was first
broken by his summons to her to deliver up the royal children into his
custody, a cruel but necessary proceeding, since the regency was
inseparable from the governorship of the king and the next heir.

A true and tender chord is struck at last, when Margaret, appealing to
Henry, exclaims, "God send I were such a woman as might go with my
bairns in mine arms. I trow I should not be long fra you!" Nor is it
possible to feel aught but sympathy for her, when she allows herself to
be stormed in Stirling Castle before she suffers her children to be
torn from her. Dacre professed to believe, and perhaps caused Margaret
to fear, that they would be destroyed if they fell into the Duke of
Albany's power. But the very day on which Dacre wrote to Henry's
Council, advising that money should be sent to enable her to hold out,
the regent prepared to bombard her, and it was not till her friends had
forsaken her, flying for their lives and in terror of Albany's
proclamation, that placing the keys of the fortress in her little son's
hands, she desired him to give them to the regent, and to beg him to
show favour to himself, to his brother, and to her husband. The regent
answered that he would be good to the king, to his brother, and to
their mother; but that as for Angus, he "would not dalye with no
traitor." *

* Cotton MS. Calig. B 2, 369; B.M.


No sooner had Margaret given up her children, than she began to
manoeuvre how to steal them back and spirit them over the Border. While
pretending to be too ill to leave her palace at Linlithgow, where she
gave out she had "taken to her chamber" in anticipation of her
approaching confinement, she effected her escape into England, but her
plan for capturing the king and his brother failed. Nothing could now
exceed her desolate condition, as, wandering from place to place,
alone, ill, and worse than friendless, she sought in vain a refuge in
all that wild Border region where she might await her hour of peril.
Angus, seeing the turn affairs had taken, had thought it prudent to
abandon her to her fate, and, after helping her to escape, returned to
Scotland in the hope of coming to terms with Albany. His wife was at
last thankful to accept Lord Dacre's rough hospitality in his gloomy
castle of Harbottle. Here in the midst of a brutal soldiery, with no
woman to render her the most needful service, she gave birth to a
daughter, the Lady Margaret Douglas, on the 5th October 1515. On the
10th she wrote to Albany to announce her delivery "of a cristen sowle
beying a young lady," and miserably ill though she was, did not omit to
demand "as tutrix of the young king and prince, her tender children, to
have the whole rule and governance of Scotland."

To this letter Margaret received an answer written by the Council,
stating that the governance of the realm had expired with the death of
her husband, and had devolved to the Estates; that with her consent
they had appointed the Duke of Albany; that she had forfeited the
tutelage of her children by her second marriage, and that in all
temporal matters the realm of Scotland had been immediately subject to
Almighty God, not recognising the Pope or any superior upon earth.

Herewith the queen was forced to content herself; further words would
have proved as unavailing as reeds against the tempest, and even words
were soon beyond her power to write, for the birth of her daughter was
succeeded by a long and painful illness which nearly proved fatal to
the unhappy woman. To add to the bitterness of her trials, at the
moment when she was beginning slowly to recover, came the news of the
illness and death of the little Duke of Rothesay. Grief, anger, and
anxiety for the safety of the king served naturally to increase the
gravity of her condition, and for months she lay hovering between life
and death, loudly accusing Albany of having murdered her child.

This accusation was reiterated to Albany himself as soon as her
unsteady hand could grasp a pen; but the regent took no heed of her
stinging words, continued to invite her to return to Scotland, in spite
of her persistent refusal, and apparently succeeded at last in
convincing her of his innocence.

On her recovery she wrote to him from Morpeth, to announce her
departure for the south, Henry having invited her to his court,
accompanying his invitation with presents of costly stuffs, and money,
and clothing for the baby.

A letter from Margaret to the regent at this moment is significant of a
sudden change in her demeanour towards him, and to judge by her
subsequent behaviour, the change meant treachery. Instead of the fierce
denunciations she had lately indulged in, she acknowledged that she had
often received goodly and pleasant words as well as letters from him,
and "though his conduct has not always corresponded to them, yet as
matters are being accommodated" she hopes he will reform it. The
meaning of this change of tactics became clear to all but the regent
himself---who seems to have been of a singularly unsuspicious
nature--as soon as Margaret reached London.

Albany was still hoping for a permanent peace with Henry, and more than
once expressed a wish to pay him a friendly visit. This both Henry and
Margaret encouraged him to do, and writing to Wolsey about this time,
the Scottish queen expressed the most fervent hope that the regent
would come, counterbalanced by the fears that he would not.* Had the
matter rested entirely with himself, the visit would certainly have
taken place, but his Council having some reason to doubt Henry's fair
and plausible words, were urgent in dissuading him. All things
considered, it is probable that the duke would have repented of his
temerity if he had placed his head within the lion's jaws.

* Cotton MS., Vesp. F 3, 36; B.M.


Having failed to inveigle the regent into their power, the brother and
sister instructed Dacre to "sow debate" between him and his Council,
but this scheme failed also. Dacre wrote, however, to show that he was
not wanting in zeal in this behalf, saying that, being unable to
interfere with Scottish affairs in any other way, he had given rewards
to four hundred outlaws for burnings in various parts of the kingdom.*
No means proved too vile, no instrument unworthy, to be employed in the
work of destroying the regent and advancing Tudor interests. The queen
even condescended to use her truant husband, and the part played by
Angus is scarcely less reprehensible than Margaret's own, for while he
pretended to be loyal to Albany and to Scotland, he possessed himself
of every important State secret and transmitted it to his wife, in the
hope of appeasing her for his desertion. She, of course, passed on all
that she thus learned to Henry and Wolsey.

* Dacre to Wolsey; Calig. B 1, 150; B.M.


Margaret was entertained for a whole year in pomp and splendour at the
English court, feasts and revels succeeding each other in bewildering
magnificence-- luxury in vivid contrast to the misery which she had
undergone during the first months after her flight from Scotland.
Pageants, tournaments, and banquets now took the place of privation and
suffering; all that met the eye was changed, but the dark and
treacherous under-currents known to but few of her contemporaries
remained the same, and were the realities that shaped her course. In
spite, however, of plots and intrigues, Margaret's position was not
improving. Her visit to England could not be prolonged indefinitely,
and as the queen was evidently not to return to Scotland in triumph, it
was desirable to make as good terms for herself as she possibly could.

The regent promised that her jointure should be paid, and that Angus
should be allowed to join her if he were willing to do so--a somewhat
doubtful alternative, as he had not availed himself of the leave that
had already been given him. As for Albany himself, he declared that it
had always been his desire to gratify the queen, and to advise the best
for her and for her son.* Reluctantly, therefore, she at last prepared
to turn her face northwards, having obtained permission to take with
her a suite befitting her station, safe-conduct being granted, except
in the case of any person among them plotting harm to the kingdom; and
to these conditions Henry set his great seal.

* Calig. B 2, 262; B.M.


A letter from the Venetian envoy to the Doge, dated 13th April 1517,
says: "The truce between England and Scotland has been arranged. The
queen is to return, but is not to be admitted to the administration of
the kingdom. She may take with her twenty-four Englishmen, and as many
Scotch as she pleases, provided they be not rebels"; and he adds that
he has been assured of these facts by Albany's secretary.

All was done to make her journey as easy as possible; but when Margaret
arrived at Berwick, it needed all Dacre's powers of persuasion to
induce her to enter Scotland. At Lamberton Kirk, contrary to the
regent's expectation, she was met by Angus, accompanied by Morton and
others of the Scottish nobility, with three hundred men, chiefly
Borderers. Albany had left for France, taking with him as hostages the
heirs or younger brothers of the principal men in the country, whom he
had bound over to keep the peace during his absence, which he then did
not intend to prolong beyond five months.

There was now an excellent opportunity for beginning a new and better
life, had the queen been so minded; but events proved her to be in a
more querulous, treacherous, and discontented mood than ever. "Her
Grace considereth now, the honour of England, and the poverty and
wretchedness of Scotland," wrote Magnus to Wolsey, "which she did not
afore, but in her opinion esteemed Scotland equal with England,"* and
her complaints to Henry were frequent and loud.

* June 19, 1517; Calig. B 2, 253; B.M.


She complained of her husband, of her poverty, of the bad faith of the
Scottish nation who still left her jointure unpaid, of not being
allowed free access to her son. She had, she said, been obliged to lay
in wed (pawn) the plate given to her by Henry, and was likely to be
driven to extreme want, as Wolsey would learn by her messenger. She
would have been still worse off, she caused her friends to write, had
not Magnus and Dacre drawn up a book at Berwick, the day before her
entry into Scotland, by which Angus, signing it, renounced all claim to
her "conjunct feoffment."*

* Dacre to Wolsey, Harbottle, 5th March, 1518; R.O.


But Margaret did not stop at complaints; Henry must begin the war
again. He may, she declares, reasonably cause Scottish ships to be
taken; for she has suffered long and forborne to do evil, although she
knew she would never get good from Scotland by fair means.

When by dint of constant urging to renewed contests the Borders had
become one vast battlefield in her quarrel, she wrote to the Marquis of
Dorset to beg him to spare the convent of Coldstream, whose abbess had
done her good service in times past.* The motive for this intercession
was no mere charitable one, the abbess being "one of the best spies for
England."

* Thomas, Marquis of Dorset, to Henry VIII.; Calig. B 3, 255.


And now, for the first time, Margaret ventures to express the wish that
has for long been forming itself in her mind. She has been much
troubled by Angus since her coming to Scotland, and is so more and more
daily. They have not met this half year, and--after some hovering of
the word on her lips, she pronounces it boldly--she will part with him,
if she may by God's law, and with honour to herself, for he loves her
not. Unlike Henry, when seeking a pretext to divorce his first wife,
Margaret was at no pains to disguise the motive which inspired her, and
a possibility of a flaw in the marriage is openly but a pretext for
getting rid of a husband of whom she was weary. We are at least spared
the nausea caused by Henry's conscientious scruples. She first puts
forward frankly her wish to be free from Angus, and then her
determination to divorce him if she may lawfully. But it was the only
piece of honesty in the whole business, for the suit itself was one
long, dreary series of misrepresentation and falsehood, without which
her cause could by no possibility have been gained.

The usual plea of pre-contracts was brought forward, but as these were
of too flimsy a nature to bear investigation, Margaret declared that
the late King of Scots, her husband, was still living three years after
the battle of Flodden, and that consequently he was alive when she was
married to the Earl of Angus.* As the king's body had never been found,
this assertion could not be disproved, though there was no reasonable
doubt as to James having fallen on that calamitous day.

* Magnus to Wolsey; State Papers, vol. iv., p. 385; R.O.


However, in spite of her bold swearing, Margaret was not so certain of
success, but that she was anxious for Henry's support, and she not only
entreated her brother to befriend her, but promised him that she would
consult only his wishes in taking another husband, and that this time
she would not part from him.* If she thought that a fellow-feeling
would make him wondrous kind in this matter, she was disappointed. It
was no part of Henry's policy that his sister should put Angus away,
for although she had not consulted him in the choice of her second
husband, Henry was very well satisfied with him. He could to a certain
extent control him, and at all events, while married to him the queen
could not contribute by any foreign alliance to the power and greatness
of Scotland.

* Calig. B 1, 232; B.M.


But Angus was making himself obnoxious to his wife beyond her very
limited capacity for endurance. Not only had he proved a faithless
husband, but what was infinitely worse to her mind, he refused to give
up the income of her Ettrick Forest estate, which she had made over to
him in the days when his handsome face and figure had first struck her
fancy, and when she thought nothing too costly to lavish upon him. She
had made him great, to her own and the country's misfortune, and it was
a difficult matter to make him small again; but all Scotland felt the
evil effects of his power, of his ascendancy over the young king, and
of the feuds which resulted therefrom. So great was the scourge felt to
be, that the Council appealed to Margaret to recall the Regent Albany,
that he might restore order.

Margaret was aware that Albany's return was the thing of all others
that Henry wished to avoid, but it suited her for the nonce to act the
part of a good Scotswoman, and she wrote an imploring letter to the
duke, begging him to come back and take pity on his unhappy country.*
Notwithstanding this, her complaints to Henry through Lord Dacre of her
bad treatment, and her supplications to be allowed to return to
England, did not cease. She had "liever be dead than live among the
Scots," and she entreats that no peace may be renewed, unless "some
good may be taken," that she may live at ease.**

* Calig. B 1, 232.

** Ibid. B 2, 195.


Wolsey was not sparing in his remarks on the queen's double-dealing,
the facts of which had all been disclosed to him by spies. He has, he
says, represented to the king her brother "the folly of Queen Margaret
in leaning to her enemies, and departing from her husband,"
notwithstanding what Dacre has already written to her. Dacre, by the
king's desire, is to tell her that if she persists in her dishonourable
course she can expect no favour.*

* Ibid. B 3, 106


Meanwhile the Earl of Surrey had been dispatched with an army to the
Borders, and threatened to invade Scotland, unless the Duke of Albany
were abandoned, and Margaret reinstated as regent. On the 16th
September 1523, he wrote two letters to the queen, one intended for her
eyes alone, the other to be shown to her son's Council. In the first he
says that the King of England would approve of her son's "coming
forth," and shaking off all tutelage but his mother's, for Surrey is
about to waste Scotland, and the young king's plea for emancipating
himself should be that he cannot suffer his realm to be laid waste.
Margaret is to summon the lords to take up arms in her son's defence,
and she will then be in a position to command Surrey to retire. She
will thus form a party for her son, and be enabled to send Albany and
his Frenchmen back to France. Then Surrey will turn his arms against
her enemies.

If Margaret keeps her promise, money will be forthcoming. In the event
of her causing James V, to "come forth" to Edinburgh, he has no doubt
that if the king will command his subjects on their allegiance to take
his part, the most of them will do so, especially the Commons, who must
be roused to drive the French to Dunbar. The Earl of Surrey will be
ready to give assistance.*

* Calig. B 4, 196.


The second letter was to the same effect, though more cautiously
worded. The King of England would be glad to hear of his nephew's
prosperous estate, but would certainly be dissatisfied that his nobles
suffered their monarch and themselves to be kept in subjection by
Albany. Surrey was ready to help with men and money all who would come
forward to protect their natural sovereign; but peace could never be
between the two realms, if the Scots did not give up the duke. As for
Margaret's hope that Henry would be a better friend to Scotland on her
account, Surrey had been ordered to desist from doing any more hurt at
her request. He had now waited along time, he wrote, hoping that the
Scottish lords would have shown themselves more natural loving subjects
than they now appeared, seeing that the day appointed for the Duke of
Albany's arrival had passed, and that their king was in no greater
safety than he was before. All the world would see that the fault was
not Henry's, but that of the Scots, who refused to put HIM out of the
realm who meant to destroy the king and usurp the crown. Henry would
never refrain from making war upon Scotland until they forsook. Albany,
and sued to him for peace. On their doing this, Surrey had full
authority to treat with them, and to assist them with money and troops.*

* State Papers, iv. 21--"Copy of my letter to be showed to the lords of
Scotland; in Surrey's hand"; R.O.


This advice produced no effect whatever on the Scottish lords, whose
loyalty to the regent remained unshaken. But Margaret did not consider
herself hampered by any pledges given to Albany, and two days after the
receipt of the letters, she urged Surrey to come to Edinburgh, or
somewhere near it, at once, declaring that the lords would certainly do
as she desired. As for the threatened laying waste, however, "they
laughed at injuries done only to the poor people." A thousand men with
artillery would have Edinburgh at their mercy if they came suddenly.
Surrey must go at it at once, or let it be. Failing this, she desired
leave to come to England with her true servants, adding, "for I will
come away and I should steal out of it."*

* Ibid. 26.


The truth was, that, far from being certain that the lords would agree
to any part of the scheme, Margaret knew well that she had but a
handful of friends in Scotland, and that her sole hope of regaining the
regency lay in Henry's power of coercion. Trusting that Surrey would
really march on Edinburgh, she did all she could to persuade the
Council to allow the young king to be brought to that place, and to
appoint new guardians, friendly to her interests. In both these
endeavours she failed, and James remained at Stirling.

"The lords are all fallen away from the queen, and adhere to the
governor," wrote the Abbess of Coldstream to Sir John Bulmer, and
Surrey passed on the information to Wolsey, telling him that Margaret
had no credit with the Scotch, and that they looked hourly for Albany's
arrival.

As for Lord Surrey, even if he had been willing to besiege Edinburgh,
he would have been frustrated by the want of sufficient means of
transport for his victuals. Had he not caused his soldiers to carry
their food in wallets, and their drink in bottles, it would not have
been possible for him to have reached the North, and a raid into the
enemy's country necessitated a far ampler stock of provisions than
could be carried in this way. The queen's desire that he should take
Edinburgh, arose, he thought, from her anxiety to provide herself with
a way of escape from her difficulties.*

* Surrey to Wolsey, Berwick, 21st Sept. 1523; R.O.


In England it was commonly believed that the Scottish lords were in so
great a fear of Albany, who was hourly expected to arrive, that they
would break their covenant with him even though they had each given him
four of the best of their sons as hostages. But Surrey declared
vehemently that although they might deceive Margaret, they should not
deceive him.

The suspense was ended at last, and Margaret wrote to inform him of the
regent's arrival. Surrey replied at once, desiring to know further what
number of horse and foot soldiers had come with him, and what
countrymen they were. He could give her no advice about coming away,
but would meet her in any given part of the Marches, and at whatever
time she pleased. Margaret in return was to let him know when the Duke
of Albany intended to invade England. In conclusion, hoping to prevent
any rapprochement between her and the regent, he warned her that Albany
would most certainly be king if the king were not well guarded, "for
the Frenchmen can empoison one, and yet he shall not die for a year
after."*

* Surrey's Letterbook; Tanner MS. 90, f. 47; Bodleian Library.


The slippery nature of Margaret's friendship was well known to Surrey,
and he kept up the fiction of Albany's nefarious intentions, in the
hope of making her faithful to English interests. Unluckily for his
schemes, he did not sufficiently study the springs of her actions,
which would have taught him to be more lavish with his bribes. The end
of her next letter ought to have opened his eyes to the necessity of
striking a bargain with her if he would hope to draw her into the
English net. After telling him that the duke has held a council at
Glasgow, and that he means to march into England in a fortnight, she
goes on to warn him that Scotland was never before made so strong, and
says that it is still a secret whether Albany intends to attack the
east or west Border, but she thinks both. She gives him a detailed
account of the numbers and condition of his soldiers, and estimates his
French contingent at 6000 men, adding that German reinforcements are
expected by the first fair wind. They trust to win Berwick, and if they
succeed, she and her son are undone. Then she begs to know how she is
to get away, and have some money. If Henry will not help her, she must
perforce ask help of Albany; and she declares significantly, "and he
will cause me to do as he will, or else he will give me nothing." He
has not yet come to her, but he writes "very good writings of his own
hand, and as many fair words as can be devised," to which however she
professes to give no credence.*

*Calig. B 6, 379; State Papers, iv. 40.


Surrey was of the opinion that Margaret should remain in Scotland, as
her coming to England would cause embarrassment and expense. Two
thousand marks would hardly satisfy her in England, whereas she would
be content with three or four hundred pounds a year in Scotland, to say
nothing of the loss Henry would incur if she came away, in being
deprived of the information she sent.

But it was just this haggling over bribes that prevented Margaret from
being altogether on Henry's side, and threw her into the arms of the
more generous Albany whenever there was the least hope of gain. Thus, a
month later, after the somewhat hasty retreat from Wark, she told
Surrey that she had been obliged to take what money the duke would give
her; that she would do her best to keep her son, but that she could not
displease Albany without Henry's support. She implored Surrey to plead
with the king for her, and in return for his help she would inform him
of all she knew; but he must keep it secret.*

* Calig. B 1, 281.


At the same time, she gave the duke to understand that she had incurred
her brother's displeasure for his sake,* and the same legend was
repeated to the lords of the Council. Complaining to them of the bad
treatment she had received in Scotland, she begged them to bear in mind
the loyalty she had always shown to her son, to the lord governor, and
to the realm, incurring for the last three or four years her brother's
displeasure, for Albany's sake, at whose desire she was always ready to
write the best she could.** Immediately upon this remarkable statement
came Henry's answer to her last appeal, in the guise of one hundred
marks for information received, together with the refusal of the truce
which Albany had repeatedly solicited.*** The smallness of the sum
prompted Margaret to write a diplomatic letter to the Earl of Surrey,
in which she declared that she had promised before the lords to be a
good Scotswoman, and to agree to whatever was for the good of her son,
with whom she was resolved to bide as long as she might, although the
lords were bent on separating them. They cannot, they say, help her to
her "conjunct feoffment" while her brother makes war on them, and she
knows not where any other help may be got. If she is to live with her
son, Henry must contribute to her support, as he has done to a certain
extent already. She will do as he commands her, and have as few
servants as possible. She had asked the governor and lords in Council
why she was "holden suspect," and not allowed to be with her son; and
the answer she received was that she was Henry's sister, and would
perhaps take the king into England, and they knew well her brother
would do more for her than any other. She had answered that her deeds
had shown otherwise, and that she could prove the malice of such an
accusation! THUS HENRY WOULD SEE HOW SHE SUFFERED FOR HIS SAKE.****

* Ibid. 159.

** Ibid. B 2, 268.

*** State Papers, iv. 60, 26th Nov. 1523; R.O.

**** Queen Margaret to the Earl of Surrey, Dec. 1523; R.O.


The next scene in the comedy is Margaret's anger on hearing that Albany
is treating with Henry for peace, without her intervention. "It is
hard," she complains, "to be out with the governor here, and not to
know what the king will do for me!" If she had flattered Albany, she
asserts, she might have had "great profits," but she will not take them
till she knows Henry's mind. She has not spoken with Albany since
Surrey left, and would not do so as long as he remained in Scotland, so
discontented were they with each other.* Upon this follows an
astounding revelation. Surrey had received a dispatch from the queen
containing another document, the seals of which had been broken and
closed again. It was a copy of an agreement between Margaret and the
Duke of Albany, but the manner in which it came to be enclosed in her
letter never transpired, though it was thought that the packet had been
opened by a spy, and the paper inserted, in order to ruin her prospects
with her brother.

* Calig. B 1, 209, 21st April 1524.


The enclosed document ran thus:--

The queen promises that during the minority of her son, she will never
suffer anything contrary to the duke's authority, and will inform him
of it, and hinder as much as she can any wrong intended against him;
she will not consent to a truce or peace with England without the
comprehension of her son's allies; she will assist to keep him
securely, according to the decree of the last Parliament; she will do
all she can to hinder any practice against him of which she may hear,
and will inform the governor of it if he be in the country, and if not,
those who have charge of the king; she will not consent to anything
contrary to the alliance with France, or to the treaty of Rouen, and
will further a marriage between her son and one of the daughters of the
King of France. The governor promises to do the like, and to obtain for
her an honourable reception by the King of France, if she incurs the
enmity of her brother, and is forced to quit the country in consequence
of the assistance he may give to Angus, or other evil-disposed persons
who may interfere with her goods and conjunct feoffment; he will if she
requests, send some of his servants with her, and will maintain her
against everyone except the king her son. Both parties swear to keep
these promises upon the Holy Gospels.*

* Add. MS. 24, 965, ff. 231 and 234; B.M.


Wolsey, upon receipt of this information, at once addressed
instructions to Dacre, charging him to find out whether such an
agreement had really been made, and if so, how the copy of it had found
its way into the queen's letter.

Dacre therefore wrote to tell her of the discovery, and recapitulating
the contents of the enclosed document, added that the king desired to
know whether she had consented to it of her own free will, why it was
done, whether she herself sent the copy, or if not who did send it, and
with what intent.

Margaret replied by an indignant but weak denial. The instrument in
question was one, she averred, which the duke had DESIRED her to
execute, but which she had declined at all costs to meddle with.

This explanation was too improbable for Wolsey to accept, the whole
course of Margaret's actions tending to show that had Albany tried and
failed to draw her into such a compact, she would unhesitatingly have
disclosed the negotiation in order to make capital out of her refusal.
The opportunity for demanding large sums as a reward for her fidelity
to Henry's interests would have proved irresistible; while as a matter
of fact the transaction had never been so much as hinted at in any of
her letters. Vague allusions, to the effect that Albany was continually
outbidding Henry, had been her refrain for years; but whereas she sent
minute and circumstantial details of every other secret likely to
prejudice the country and the regent, she had been silent as to any
definite overtures such as those contained in the document referred to.

The alternative was to believe that, while pretending to be false, for
once she was true to Scotland; and yet she stands so deeply "rooted in
dishonour," that her acquittal puts but little to her credit. Her only
resource, when Dacre persisted in his accusation, was a feeble
complaint of the bad treatment she was receiving at her brother's
hands, pleading that he neither regarded herself nor her writing; that
she had not failed, and did not mean to fail, but that if others had
been in her place they would have acted very differently.*

* Add. MS. 24, 965, f. 223, 19th May 1524; B.M.


To this Dacre replied ruthlessly, that it was well known both in
Scotland and in England, not only that she had assented to the bond
found in her letter, but that it had passed her sign manual and seal,
in return for which, the Duke of Albany had given her the wardship and
marriage of the young Earl of Huntly and of others, together with other
gifts and rewards---a proceeding which, declared Dacre, was a great
dishonour to her brother, and would perhaps after all avail her but
little. He marvelled also greatly at her pretended ignorance of the
negotiations pending between Albany and himself, because in his last
letter he had informed her of all the proceedings.*

* Ibid. 965, f. 244, 27th May 1524.


For some time, Margaret continued to deny feebly having formally allied
herself with the regent, murmuring at Dacre's "sharpness" towards her,
notwithstanding which Dacre continued to bring fresh proofs of her
duplicity before her, till Henry at last ordered him to let the matter
drop, whereupon she was willing to do the same.*

* Add. MS. 24, 965, f. 253; B.M.


Having failed in the past to secure Margaret's undivided favour, Henry
now took a more persuasive line, and sought to convince his sister how
much good might in future accrue to her if she would but "go the
fruitful way." The unfortunate Angus, who had taken refuge in England,
was now sent back, in the hope that a possible reconciliation with her
husband might detach her from Albany. But this was far from succeeding.
Margaret could with difficulty be induced to receive him, and all the
money that Henry sent to her went to strengthen the hands of her
husband's enemies, so that Angus was obliged to entreat that no further
supplies might be provided. Margaret then veered round, and said that
Albany had sent to her with great offers if she would join his party,
adding that perhaps the duke would marry her after getting her
divorced. How this could be possible, considering that Albany had a
wife already, might puzzle a mind more fettered by the logic of facts
than was the queen's.

That she was seriously anxious to be agreeable to the duke is seen by
the instructions which she delivered to John Cantely, who was to tell
the regent of her goodwill towards him and the kingdom of France. And
lest he should interpret unfavourably the circumstance of her having
sent ambassadors to England, she assured him that she would do nothing
without including France. Finally, she wished to know his intentions
towards her and what he would give her. In the event of her taking his
part against England, which she will certainly do if Henry continues to
help Angus, Albany must secure for her the protection of the French
king. If this king desires to have her and her son on his side, he must
support them.

But Albany must keep the matter secret, and not allow her letters to be
sent into England, as has been done formerly, and she will take his
part against everyone except her son.*

* Double de la credence de la Royne et memoire de Mr. John Cantely; R.O.


This was written on the 22nd February 1525, but on the 31st March
following, Margaret, in a stormy interview with Angus, angrily denied
having negotiated with Albany at all. She swore that she had always
sought to please Henry, and complained of his letters being "sore and
sharp." She had taken a great matter on hand at his request, and had
had much trouble with the duke for his sake, yet now that she had
plainly told the regent that she followed Henry's pleasure, Henry would
have no more to do with her. If he will not be kind to her, she hopes
at least that he will not cause Angus to trouble her in her living. She
has a plea against Angus before the Pope, and he cannot interfere with
her by law.*

* Calig. B 7, 3.


It was clearly to Henry's interest to persuade Margaret to take her
husband back, for Angus belonged with the whole Douglas family to
Albany's bitterest enemies. The reconciliation between him and the
regent had been but a short interlude brought about solely from
self-interest on the part of Angus, and followed by a deep and lasting
feud. Added to this claim on Henry's friendship was the fact that he
possessed a powerful influence over the young King James. But with the
page of Henry's own domestic history open before us, it is not possible
to repress a smile at the arguments against her divorce which Henry put
before Margaret, at the very moment when he was trying to force the
Pope's hand, in order to obtain from him a sentence against his own
marriage. The following substance of a letter, written it is true by
Wolsey, but dictated by his master, applies in every detail as well to
Henry's own case as to Margaret's. If we change the pronoun, substitute
London for Rome, king for queen, Katharine for Angus, all that he
causes Wolsey to say becomes as applicable to himself as to his sister.

After desiring her to accept favourably Henry's message, which, he
says, much concerns the wealth of her son and her own repute, the
cardinal urges her brother's hope that the "undeceivable spirit of God,
which moved him to send to her, will effectually work." Amid the cares
of his government he has never forgotten her, and he hopes she will
turn to God's word, "the vyvely doctrine of Jesus Christ, the only
ground of salvation" (1 Cor. 3). He reminds her of the divine ordinance
of inseparable matrimony, first instituted in Paradise, and hopes her
Grace will perceive how she was seduced by flatterers to an unlawful
divorce from "the right noble Earl of Angus," etc., upon untrue and
insufficient grounds. Furthermore, "the shameless sentence sent from
Rome" plainly showed how unlawfully it was handled, judgment being
given against a party neither present in person nor by proxy. He urges
her further, for the weal of her soul, and to avoid the inevitable
damnation threatened against "advoutrers," to reconcile herself with
Angus as her true husband, or out of mere natural affection for her
daughter, whose excellent beauty and pleasant behaviour, nothing less
godly than goodly, furnished with virtuous and womanly demeanour,
should soften her heart. That she should be reputed baseborn cannot be
avoided, except the queen will relinquish the "advoutrous" company with
him that is not, nor may not be, of right her husband.*

* Calig. B 6, 194.


The individual here mentioned was Harry Stuart, with whom Margaret had
contracted a secret marriage, having by dint of perjury and a tissue of
lies, obtained a declaration of invalidity against her union with
Angus. She does not appear to have been in the least affected by
Henry's hypocritical reasoning, but the manner in which her son
received the news of her third marriage caused her some inconvenience.
In his displeasure, James sent Lord Erskine to besiege his mother and
her new husband in Stirling Castle; but what promised to be a tragedy
had a somewhat ridiculous end, for Margaret, in terror of what might
follow, at once gave up her husband, who after a short imprisonment was
allowed to escape. He promptly rejoined the queen, and James
subsequently forgave him, and created him Lord Methven.

But not even when her son had come to his own did Margaret cease to
plot and intrigue. Henry's suspicious character imperatively demanded
that all that was going on in Scotland should be known without delay at
the English court, and his sister was the only possible agent for the
purpose. It does not appear that her treachery, now doubly odious, ever
cost her the least qualm. The climax was, however, reached, when after
persuading James to confide to her his private instructions to the
Scottish ambassador residing in London, she contrived that the
information thus obtained should be in Henry's hands at the same moment
that it reached its legitimate destination.

Fortunately for the affairs of Scotland, the treasonable correspondence
was discovered; and Margaret narrowly escaped imprisonment. The
immediate result was to put an end to the more friendly intercourse
that had sprung up between the two countries, and to prevent a meeting
between the two sovereigns, in process of negotiation.

At this interview, which was to have taken place at York, Henry hoped
to convert his nephew to his own views regarding the Pope; and in order
to pave the way to, a good understanding between them, he sent Barlow
and Holcroft to Scotland with a lengthy document containing, with much
fulsome flattery of James, all Henry's choice vocabulary of epithets
hurled against the "Bishop of Rome."*

* Hamilton Papers--Instructions to Barlow and Holcroft, 3rd Oct. 1535,
fol. 27.


Margaret, ignorant that her son had discovered her treachery, continued
to urge him to proceed to York; but her eagerness only roused his
suspicions that worse treason lay behind.

"The Queen, your Grace's sister," wrote Lord William Howard to Henry,
"because she hath so earnestly solicited in the cause of meeting, is in
high displeasure with the King, her son, he bearing her in hand that
she received gifts of your Highness to betray him, with many other
unkind and suspicious words."*

*State Papers, iv. 46; R.O.


Enough has been already seen of Margaret's methods to make it quite
clear what her next step would be. Out of favour with James, she of
course threw the whole brunt of her misfortune on Henry, for whose sake
she had incurred so much danger and expense, having lived for the last
six months at court for the sole purpose of advancing his affairs.* But
Henry was beginning to weary of his sister's complaints and appeals for
money. Besides, James would in future guard his secrets better, and
Margaret almost cease to be useful as a spy. So she must not expect him
to disburse notable sums, merely because she is his sister, and must
henceforth learn to be content with the entirely sufficient provision
made for her on her marriage with the King of Scots.**

* Add. MS. 32, 616, f. 87; B.M.

** State Papers, v. 56; R.O.


This was all the consolation he could afford her for some time to come,
for besides his other reasons for disregarding the letters which she,
nothing daunted by his silence, continued to send him, Henry was too
much occupied with his own concerns to bestow much thought on a sister
whose power of helping him was now small. It was the moment of Anne
Boleyn's fall, and he was engrossed with the list of crimes of which he
was about to accuse the unhappy woman.

On the subject of Margaret's various marriages, her brother had ever
failed to manifest that sympathy which a similarity of tastes would
seem to justify. He had assumed the tone of a moralist on her
separation from Angus, and had treated Lord Methven in his letters with
scant respect, and when in the course of time she began to be weary of
her new spouse, and to complain of him with increasing bitterness, it
was long before Henry could be roused to express any interest in the
subject. At last, however, he found a convenient season for attending
to her. She had written to inform him that whereas she did Lord Meffen
(sic) the honour to take him as her husband, he had spent her lands and
profits upon his own kin, and had brought her into debt, to the sum of
8000 marks Scots, and would give her no account of it. She trusted the
king her son would treat her to his and her own honour; but if not, she
had no refuge but in Henry, and she begged him not to suffer her to be
wronged.

To this, Henry deigned to reply that he should be sorry if his good
brother and nephew treated her otherwise than a son should treat his
mother. As it appeared from certain evidence, she was well-handled, and
had grown to much wealth and quiet; but according to other reports,
quite the contrary, so that he was in doubt which to believe. "Also,"
he continues, "having heard at other times from you of your
evil-treatment by your son and Lord Muffyn (sic), and as we are sending
the bearer into those parts, on our business, we desire you to show him
the points wherein you note yourself evil-handled, and whether you
desire us to treat of them with your son, or only generally to
recommend your condition." *

* State Papers, v. 63, 65.


Margaret had remained faithful to Lord Methven for about ten years, and
it was not till 1537 that she thought of formally applying for a
divorce, her chief plea being that be wasted her money, although she
said she had "forty famous proofs" against him.*

* Hamilton Papers, 13th Oct. 1537, f. 105.


James was furious, and ordered that the divorce, whether obtained at
the cost of more false oaths, or whether Margaret's so-called third
husband really had a wife living when the union was contracted, should
not be proclaimed in Scotland.

This constituted Margaret's famous grievance against James, his
objection to her divorce being, his mother declared, the fear lest she
should pass into England and remarry the Earl of Angus. "And this Harry
Stuart, Lord of Methven, causes him to believe this of ME!" she
exclaimed contemptuously.* One plea for getting rid of the now despised
Harry Stuart is too amusing to be omitted. James was in France, whither
he had gone to bring home his bride, the young and beautiful Magdalene,
daughter of the French king, and Margaret thought to induce Henry to
interest himself in her divorce through his jealousy of the French.

* State Papers, v. 119.


After begging him to send a special messenger to the king her son, to
know his "utter mind," she says: "For now, dearest brother, your Grace
I trust will consider that now the queen his wife is to come into this
realm soon after Easter, as he hath sent word here, to make ready for
the same, and that being, it will be great dishonour to him that I, his
mother, having a just cause to part, can nought get a final end; and I
trust your Grace will consider I may do your Grace and my son more
honour to be without him (Lord Methven) than to have him, considering
that he is but a sober man, and if the Queen that is to come, see me
not entreated as I should be, she will think it an evil example." *

* Hamilton Papers, f. 109.


But all her efforts were fruitless; Henry could not be persuaded to
take up her quarrel, and James was obdurate. His mother, however, then
in her forty-ninth year, dispensed with legal formality altogether, and
allied herself to a certain John Stuart, who, according to some, is
identical with the adventurous Earl of Arran, so notorious in the reign
of James VI.

A few more miserable years of petty intrigues, it being no longer in
her power to carry on important ones, and Margaret came to the close of
her faithless, undignified life. But before the end, a ray of sorrow
for her mis-spent days brightened the hitherto unrelieved gloom of her
career. Henry's messenger, sent after her death to gather up the
details of her last moments, and above all, to find out whether she had
made a will, wrote to the king as follows:--

"When she did perceive that death did approach, she did desire the
friars that was her confessors, that they should sit on their knees
before the King, and to beseech him that he would be good and gracious
unto the Earl of Angwische, and did extremely lament and ask God mercy
that she had offended unto the said Earl as she had."

The friars were also to plead with her son for the Lady Margaret
Douglas, the daughter whom she had so remorselessly abandoned, and to
beg him that she might have some of her mother's goods. And thus,
making what reparation she could, with penitent words on her lips,
Margaret Tudor passed away.



II. NOR WIFE NOR WIDOW

The history of the first two marriages of Henry VIII. is of such vital
importance, affecting as they did the whole course of religion in
England, from the first whisperings of the divorce down to the present
day, that it is not to be wondered at if the royal Bluebeard's
subsequent matrimonial alliances have been considered negligible
quantities. And yet, at least one of them was of extreme political, and
even religious, importance, and was fraught with so much mystery that
until the most recent investigations, the true inwardness of the matter
has been totally misapprehended. The story of Anne of Cleves' portrait,
and Henry's supposed disappointment when he saw the lady herself for
the first time, is authentic in so far as it was exactly what the king
chose to have circulated about his fourth marriage. But if it contained
half the truth, it was the other half that really mattered.

After the fall of Wolsey, Thomas Cromwell had by his astute policy
succeeded in bringing about a religious state of things in England that
approached very nearly to Lutheranism. Taking advantage of Henry's
pique and anger at the Pope's refusal to grant him a divorce from
Katharine of Arragon, Cromwell set about widening the breach between
England and Rome. After weakening the power of the bishops and lower
clergy, he was able to force the oath of supremacy upon the nation, and
having thus satisfied his master's pride and vanity, his next step was
by the dissolution of the monasteries to pander to Henry's greed, while
at the same time he filled his own pockets.

In pursuit of these ends he had covered the land with gibbets, and
caused the noblest heads in England to fall upon the block. He had
branded the king's own daughter with the stigma of infamy, and to
obtain her consent thereto had kept the axe suspended over her. He had
been able to accomplish all this because thus far he had taken Henry's
measure correctly, working upon his worst passions, and suggesting ever
fresh means of satisfying them. Then came a point at which his
interests and those of the king diverged.

Cromwell was deeply pledged to the Lutheran cause, and his plan was to
throw Henry into the arms of the Lutheran princes of Germany. He had
already flooded the country with foreign heretics, using them as his
tools to protestantise the Church in England.

Jane Seymour died in 1537, and Cromwell at once negotiated a marriage
between Henry and Anne, daughter of the Duke of Cleves, Henry
consenting for the reason that it behoved him to fortify himself by an
alliance that would enable him to make a stand against a possible
combination of forces between the Pope, the Emperor, and the French
King. But at the very moment when Cromwell, believing himself to be at
the point of realising all his desires, was pledging his master to
marry Anne of Cleves, a reaction had set in which he so completely
disregarded as to seem in utter ignorance of it.

Nothing annoyed Henry more than to be twitted with being a heretic, and
whenever Henry was annoyed a blow might be expected. The loathed
epithet was now very frequently used in reference to him by the emperor
and others, and he was bent on showing Europe that he could be a very
good Catholic without the Pope. It irritated him to think that Cromwell
had laid him open to retort in this contention by a formal alliance
with the Lutherans, who were undeniably heretics. It served his purpose
very well to play them off against the emperor and even Francis I., but
it was not his will to be bound irrevocably by any contract. When
Cromwell thought to put the finishing touch to his triumphant scheme,
he only effected his own doom. He boasted to the Lutherans that he
would soon bring England over to their forms of faith, and on this
promise the match between Henry and Anne was concluded; but he failed
to rouse the German princes to a contest with the emperor, which was
all that Henry, apart from his minister's policy, had aimed at from the
beginning. With Henry the whole scheme was tentative, and the proposed
marriage but a detail of that scheme. When it fell through, he desired
to turn his back upon Cleves and the rest of the German princes;
moreover, he had no further need of Cromwell himself, who was rather in
the way of his new plans, unless the minister could find a means to
disentangle the imbroglio he had created with regard to Anne.

Like a child with a new toy, Henry was now engrossed in the fun of
being Pope in his own dominions; and as Head of the Church of England
whom it behoved to reprobate heresy in every shape and form, he
conducted a trial against one John Nicholson, who, refusing to recant
his heretical opinions, was burned at Smithfield. After this he felt
confident of being as Catholic as the real Pope, and safe from
opprobrium. He proceeded to bring forward deliberations in Parliament
on the subject of religion, with the result that the famous Act of the
Six Articles was passed. This Act, nicknamed by the Lutherans "the whip
with six cords," brought in a reaction in favour of the old religion,
which lasted till Henry's death, but matters between England and Rome
remained as they were.

Meanwhile, the lady Anne of Cleves had made her unwelcome appearance.
One of the most curious and indeed incomprehensible facts concerning
Henry VIII., is the admiring awe and grovelling gratitude with which he
was adored by most of the women whom he had the privilege of
ill-treating. After the year 1527, when he first conceived the desire
of raising Anne Boleyn to the throne, and of divorcing Katharine,
except for the short period during which he was married to Jane
Seymour, there were always two rival claimants for his hand. Not only
was Katharine ever generously ready to forget past insults if he would
graciously extend his clemency towards her, and send Anne away, but
every other woman with whom he came in contact, addressed him in words
more suited to a divinity than to an earthly king. His daughter Mary,
after having been spurned as the most degraded and abject creature of
the realm, longed for nothing more ardently than "to attain the
fruition of his most desired presence."

Although the personal appearance of Anne of Cleves did not bear out the
exaggerated reports of the German agent Mont, who had told Henry that
her beauty exceeded that of the Duchess of Milan "as the sun outshines
the silver moon," she was found on her arrival in England to be "tall,
bright, and graceful," her liveliness making amends for any defect as
to regularity of feature. Comparing her claim to beauty with that of
the other wives of Henry VIII., it does not appear that she contrasted
unfavourably with any, not even with Katharine Howard, who was very
generally admired. The king himself observed to Cromwell that Anne was
"well and seemly, and had a queenly manner," but that he found it
difficult to converse with her as she knew no word of any language but
German.

He had first met her privately at Rochester, and had dined with her,
their public meeting taking place about half a mile from the foot of
Shooter's Hill, where she rested in a gorgeous pavilion prepared for
the occasion. Henry came marching through Greenwich Park with a
brilliant escort, and the bride and bridegroom met full merrily. The
king embraced the lady ceremoniously, and the chronicler Hall, some
time afterwards, in describing their entry into Greenwich, breaks out
into one of his eulogistic periods:

"O what a sight was this, to see so goodly a Prince and so noble a King
to ride with so fair a lady, of so goodly a stature, and so womanly a
countenance, and in especial of so good qualities. I think no creature
could see them but his heart rejoiced!"

Nevertheless, Henry's moody question, "What remedy?" which obviously
had its origin in no mere disappointment in the matter of Anne's beauty
or power to charm, was calculated to strike terror into Cromwell's
soul, the chancellor knowing full well that all this bravery was but an
appearance, and that his great scheme of Lutheranising England to the
greater glory of himself was irrevocably wrecked, and his own fate
sealed. The king went on to say that if it were not that the lady had
come so far, and for fear of making a ruffle in the world, and of
driving her brother into the emperor's arms and those of the French
king, he would not go through with the marriage ceremony.

As a forlorn hope of escape, the bride was asked to make a declaration
that she was free from all precontracts, which she did without the
least hesitation, and there was nothing to be done but for Henry "to
put his head into the yoke," and to make an insignificant political
alliance, which would thenceforth serve no political end. As a Catholic
king, Head of the Church and Defender of the Faith, there was no room
in his plans for a Lutheran queen. However, he no longer regarded the
marriage tie as a knot that could not be undone at a pinch. Cranmer
could be counted on to be pliable in that matter, and if Cromwell made
difficulties, a sword was hanging over him that could be made to fall
at any moment, and Henry knew that the death of the man who had been
the terror of England for ten years would be hailed with enthusiasm by
the whole nation. Henry's foreign policy had always been a
non-committal one, and Cromwell's daring intrigues had carried his
master further than he intended to go. As the chancellor could find no
means of getting him out of the mess, he lost his life, and Anne of
Cleves her barely assumed dignity.

The disgusting letters which Cromwell wrote from the Tower, in the hope
that his tardy playing into the king's hands would obtain him a pardon,
were of immense use to Henry in confusing the public mind as to the
real reason for his repudiation of Anne, for he was anxious in breaking
off from Protestant Germany not to turn the Duke of Cleves into an
enemy. The want of decency and the unchivalrous sacrifice of Anne's
honour and dignity are perhaps not surprising between such men as Henry
and Cromwell, but it is startling to find the lady's brother swallowing
the insult calmly. Nevertheless, Henry's diplomatic insight had
correctly gauged the coarsening effect of Luther's moral code on a mind
that could see less offence in a stain of this kind than in a frank
rupture of the marriage-treaty before Anne had been allowed to set foot
in England. There is this, however, to be said, that the possession of
the lady gave Henry a decided advantage over her brother.

A few weeks after the marriage, or what passed for such, Anne was sent
to Richmond on the pretext of being out of reach of the plague, but
there was no talk at that time of any plague, and if there had been,
Henry would certainly have gone away also, for no one feared the
epidemic more than he. On her departure, a commission was appointed
under the Great Seal to inquire into the validity of her marriage, and
in an incredibly short space of time it was declared null, by reason of
a pre-contract with the son of the Duke of Lorraine. Henry then endowed
his ex-queen with lands to the value of 4000 pounds annually, with a
house at Richmond, and another at Bletchingly.

Whatever she may have felt, Anne expressed herself willing to be
divorced--perhaps she was thankful to escape with her head--and desired
the Duke of Cleves' messenger "to commend her to her brother, and say
she was merry and well entreated." He reported of her that she said
this "with such alacrity and pleasant gesture, that he might well
testify that he found her not miscontented. After she had dined she
sent the King the ring delivered unto her at their pretended marriage,
desiring that it might be broken in pieces as a thing which she knew of
no force or value." Henry sent her many gifts and tokens "as his sister
and none otherwise," and told her that she was to be the first lady in
the realm next after the queen and the king's children. He exhorted her
to be "quiet and merry," and subscribed himself "your loving brother
and friend." After his fifth marriage she was designated as "the old
Queen, the King's sister."

The French ambassador, in a letter of the 6th August 1540, wrote:--

"The King being lately with a small party at Hampton Court, ten miles
hence, supped at Richmond with the Queen that was so merrily that some
thought he meant to reinstate her, but others think it was done to get
her consent to the dissolution of the marriage, and make her subscribe
what she had said thereupon, which is not only what they wanted, but
also what she thinks they expected. The latter opinion is the more
likely, as the King drew her apart, in company with the three first
councillors he had, who are not commonly called in to such confidence."

Marillac goes on to say that he thinks it would be great inconsistency
to take her back now, and that moreover she did not sup with him as she
did when she was queen, but at another table adjoining his, as other
ladies who are not of the blood do, when he eats in company.

On the 15th he wrote to the Duke de Montmorency:--

"As for her who is called Madame de Cleves, far from pretending to be
distressed, she is as joyous as ever, and wears new dresses every day,
which argues either prudent dissimulation or stupid forgetfulness of
what should so closely touch her heart. Be it as it may, it has thrown
the poor ambassador of Cleves into a fever, who sends every day to ask
if I have no news of his master."

Even if Anne's first feeling had been one of relief that a worse fate
had not befallen her, her gaiety was obviously forced, and no doubt the
lady did "protest too much," but she had been ordered to be "quiet and
merry," and if after such a mandate she had ventured to put on a
sorrowful countenance, or to express a vain regret, her quondam husband
would probably have been--such was his disposition--less flattered by
the compliment than irritated by the command disobeyed. And so she
prudently accepted her fate and "sate like patience on a monument
smiling at grief," as it afterwards transpired, and in her efforts to
please, imposed upon herself what must have been the most trying
ordeals.

Her marriage had taken place on the feast of the Epiphany, 1540, and in
July of the same year Henry was united to Katharine Howard,
grand-daughter of the Duke of Norfolk. This young woman's reputation
was already so notoriously bad, that it is impossible to believe that
the king could be in ignorance of the fact. Nevertheless, for the time
being, he was deeply in love, and his scruples and righteous anger were
wont to come--afterwards. Marillac describes the new queen "as rather
graceful than beautiful, and of short stature." He says:--

"The King is so amorous of her that he cannot treat her well enough,
and caresses her more than he did the others. She and all the Court
ladies dress in the French style, and her device is Non autre volonte
que la sienne. Madame de Cleves is as cheerful as ever, as her
brother's ambassador says."

But others besides Anne of Cleves had reason to mourn, and Melancthon
complained that atrocious crimes were reported from England, that the
divorce with the lady of Juliers was already made, and another married,
and that "good men of our opinion in religion are murdered."

On the 27th September, the papal nuncio wrote grimly to Cardinal
Farnese, that "SO FAR" the King of England was pleased with his new
wife, and the other, "sister of Cleeves has retired and 'LIVES.'"
Rumours, however, were persistently current that Henry intended to take
back Anne, until in November, Marillac informed his master that the new
queen had "completely acquired the King's grace," and that the other
was "no more thought of than if she were dead."

But Marillac had soon reason to see that in making this statement he
had somewhat exaggerated. The Princess Mary seems to have been well
informed of the loose character and behaviour of Katharine Howard, and
contrived to find pretexts for a long time for absenting herself from
court, so that the queen complained to Henry that his daughter did not
treat her with the respect she had shown to the two former queens.

But Anne of Cleves had no scruples about associating with Katharine,
and was perhaps keen to note every detail concerning her brilliant
rival, who had been more successful than herself in capturing the
king's roving fancy. She was probably as much in the dark as most
people, as to the politico-religious embarrassment she constituted.

The French ambassador gives an amusing description of her New Year's
visit to the court:--

"Sire, to omit nothing that may be written about this country, Madame
Anne, sister of the Duke of Cleves, formerly Queen of England, passed
the recent festivities at Richmond, four miles from Hampton Court, to
which place the King and also the Queen sent her, on the first day of
the year, rich presents of clothes, plate and jewels, valued at six or
seven thousand crowns. And on the second day she was summoned to appear
at Hampton Court, where she was very honourably conducted by several of
the nobility, and being arrived, the King received her very graciously,
as did also the Queen, with whom she remained nearly the whole
afternoon. They danced together, and seemed so happy that neither did
the new Queen appear to be jealous or afraid that the other had come to
raise the siege, as it was rumoured, nor did the said lady of Cleves
show any sign of discontent at seeing her rival in her place. Moreover,
Sire, if it please you to hear the end of this farce, that evening, and
the next, the two ladies supped at the King's table together, although
the lady of Cleves sat a little backward, in a corner, where the
Princess of England, Madame Mary, is wont to be; and the following day,
the said lady of Cleves returned with the same escort to Richmond,
where she is visited by all the personages of the court, which makes
people think she is about to be reinstated in her former position." *

* De Marillac, Correspondance Politique, p. 258.


Eustace Chapuys, the imperial ambassador, also wrote an account of this
strange visit. He says:--

"On the 3rd [January 1541], the lady Anne of Cleves sent the King a New
Year's present of two large horses, with violet velvet trappings, and
presented herself at Hampton Court, with her suite, accompanied only by
Lord William, the Duke of Norfolk's brother, who happened to meet her
on the road to this city. She was received by the Duchess of Suffolk,
the Countess of Hertford, and other ladies, who conducted her to her
lodgings and then to the Queen's apartments. She insisted on addressing
the Queen on her knees, for all the Queen could say, who showed her the
utmost kindness. The King then entered, and after a low bow to Lady
Anne, embraced and kissed her. She occupied a seat near the bottom of
the table at supper, but after the King had retired, the Queen and Lady
Anne danced together, and next day all three dined together. At this
time the King sent his Queen a present of a ring and two small dogs,
which she passed over to Lady Anne. That day Lady Anne returned to
Richmond."*

* Chapuys to the Emperor; Gairdner, Cal. 16, No. 436.


The public rumour of the likelihood of Anne's restoration arose
probably as much from the common talk of the queen's immoral conduct as
from the circumstance of Anne's appearance at court. The reports at
length reached Katharine's ears, and it was possibly her accusing
conscience that betrayed itself in her visible depression of spirits.

"Some days ago [wrote Chapuys to the Queen of Hungary on 6th May 1541],
this Queen being rather sad, the King wished to know the cause, and she
said it was owing to a rumour that he was going to take back Anne of
Cleves. The King told her that she was wrong to think such things, and
[that] even if he were in a position to marry, he had no mind to take
back Anne; which is very probable, as his love never returns for a
woman he has once abandoned. Yet many thought he would be reconciled to
her for fear of the King of France making war on him at the
solicitation of the Duke of Cleves and the King of Scotland."

This was the first intimation of the storm that was soon to burst When
it suited Henry to give ear to the scandals afloat about the queen, his
grief and indignation, or what it pleased him should pass for such,
knew no bounds.

The palace at Hampton Court where Katharine was imprisoned, was so
strictly guarded that none but certain officers could enter or leave
it. The Princess Mary, who had spent the last few months with her
stepmother, presenting a strange contrast to her surroundings, was now
sent to join Prince Edward, and her father announced that he was
heartbroken at the queen's immorality and perfidy. Anne was thought by
Chapuys to rejoice greatly at Katharine's fall, but her execution
caused little comment throughout the country. Either the nation was
indifferent or it had become accustomed to the disgrace of queen
consorts.

Marillac, writing to Francis I. on the 11th November, says:--

"The way taken is the same as with Queen Anne who was beheaded. She has
taken no kind of pastime, but kept in her chamber, whereas, before, she
did nothing but dance and rejoice; and now when the musicians come,
they are told that this is no more the time to dance . . . . As to whom
the King will take, everyone thinks it will be the lady he has left,
who has conducted herself wisely in her affliction, and is more
beautiful than she was, and more regretted and commiserated than Queen
Katharine (of Arragon) was in like case. Besides, the King shows no
inclination to any other lady, and will have some remorse of
conscience, and no man in England dare suggest one of such quality as
the lady in question, for fear, if she were repudiated of falling en
quelque gros inconvenient."

The imperial ambassador had, it is seen, estimated Henry's character
more correctly than Marillac did, for as to "remorse of conscience," we
do not find throughout the whole length of his life that the royal
miscreant ever made an attempt to expiate any one of his crimes, or to
make amends to a single individual for wrong done.

According to Marillac, the king was so shocked and grieved at
Katharine's behaviour, that he proposed never to take another wife; but
when it was suggested that in spite of her outrageous conduct the queen
might possibly escape the punishment of death, on account of her beauty
and her sweetness of disposition, the Duke of Norfolk said that she
must of necessity die, because the king could not marry again while she
lived.

Francis I. does not seem to have taken his envoy's account of Henry's
grief very seriously (he had known the King of England longer than
Marillac had), and replied with some apparent cheerfulness, that he was
sorry for his cousin's misfortune, and would soon send a gentleman to
condole with the king.

Chapuys, as usual, had with greater discernment, hit the more probable
mean.

"This King has wonderfully felt the case of the Queen, his wife, and
has certainly shown greater sorrow at her loss than at the fault, loss,
or divorce of his preceding wives. It is like the case of the woman who
cried more bitterly at the loss of her tenth husband than at the deaths
of all the others together, though they had all been good men; but it
was because she had never buried one of them before without being sure
of the next, and as yet it does not seem that he has formed any new
plan."

Katharine was beheaded on the 13th October 1542, on the same spot on
the Tower Green where Anne Boleyn had been executed. Her end, and that
of Lady Rochester who had encouraged her in her evil life, was
penitent, and even edifying. After the execution it was remarked that
the king was in better spirits, and during the last few days before
Lent there was much feasting at Court.

Chapuys describes the state of affairs thus:--

"Sunday was given up to the Lords of his Council, and Court; Monday to
the men of law; and Tuesday to the ladies, who all slept at the Court.
He himself in the morning did nothing but go from room to room to order
lodgings to be prepared for these ladies, and he made them great and
hearty cheer, without showing particular affection to any one. Indeed,
unless Parliament prays him to take another wife, he will not I think
be in a hurry to marry; besides, few if any ladies now at Court would
aspire to such an honour, for a law has just been passed, that should
any King henceforth wish to marry a subject, the lady will be bound on,
pain of death to declare if any charges of misconduct can be brought
against her, and all who know or suspect anything of the kind against
her, are bound to reveal it within twenty days, on pain of confiscation
of goods and imprisonment for life."

Perhaps it was this general indictment of the women of Henry's court,
most certainly the echo of public opinion, that had caused the people
to persist in the belief that Anne of Cleves would regain Katharine's
strangely coveted place. Where the reputation of a whole class was so
bad as to make the above kind of declaration impossible, virtue, such
as that attributed to the Lady Anne, was at a premium, and as it was
useless to think of a suitable foreign alliance in the state of Henry's
religious opinions, justice and necessity had alike seemed to point to
the reinstatement of the discarded queen. But Henry was exceedingly
annoyed at these repeated suggestions which, forsooth, had almost
appeared TO DICTATE TO HIM, and he determined to put a stop to the free
wagging of tongues on the subject of his matrimonial affairs.

After the fall of Katharine Howard, and before her execution, a State
Paper records that Jane Rattsay was "examined of her words to Elizabeth
Bassett, viz., 'What if God worketh this work to make the Lady Anne of
Cleves queen again?' She answered that it was an idle saying suggested
by Bassett's 'Praising the Lady Anne, and dispraising the Queen that
now is.' She declared that she never spoke at any other time of the
Lady Anne, and she thought the King's divorce from her good." Examined
as to her exclamation "What a man is the King! How many wives will he
have?" she answered that she said it "upon the sudden tidings declared
to her by Bassett, when she was sorry for the change and knew not so
much as she knows now."

But for all Anne's prudence, and the bold front the brave woman
presented to her misfortunes, she had been secretly hoping that when
the inevitable crash came, she would be restored to the rights which
she had only renounced, because she had no alternative. Henry, however,
made no sign, and in 1543 Katharine Parr appeared on the scene. The
first mention of the king's sixth wife in the public records is a
tailor's bill for numerous items of cotton, linen, buckram, etc., and
the making of Italian gowns, pleats, and sleeves, kirtles, French,
Dutch, and Venetian gowns, Venetian sleeves, French hoods, etc., of
various materials, the total amount of the bill being 8 pounds, 9s. 5d.
This bill was delivered "to my Lady Latymer," and was copied into the
book of Skutt the tailor.

Katharine Parr had been first married as a mere child to the old Lord
Borough of Gainsborough, and had been left a widow before she was
seventeen. She then married Lord Latimer, who died in 1543, and was
immediately sought in marriage by Sir Thomas Seymour, brother of the
king's third wife, who became Lord High Admiral in Edward's reign.
Katharine undoubtedly intended to become his wife, but as she
afterwards wrote, her "will was over-ruled by a higher power."

On the 20th June of the same year, Lady Latimer and her sister Mrs.
Herbert were at court "with my Lady Mary's Grace and my Lady
Elizabeth," and the next mention of her is in a licence of Thomas,
Archbishop of Canterbury, "authorised thereto by parliament to Henry
VIII. (who has deigned to marry the Lady Katharine, late wife of Lord
Latimer deceased) to have the marriage solemnised in any church,
chapel, or oratory, without the issue of banns." It took place on the
12th July following, in an upper oratory called the Queen's Privy
Closet, within the honour of Hampton Court, Gardiner, Bishop of
Winchester, officiating.

"Anne of Cleves [wrote Chapuys to Charles V.], would like to be in her
sherte [shroud] so to speak, with her mother, having especially taken
great grief and despair at the king's espousal of this last wife, who
is not nearly so beautiful as she, besides that there is no hope of
issue, seeing that she had none with her two former husbands."

Others, besides the poor, discarded Lady Anne were also in tribulation,
and a letter from one of the Lutherans in England to Henry Bullinger,
the reformer, reports that "the king has within these two months burnt
three godly men in one day. For in July he married the widow of a
nobleman named Latimer, and he is always wont to celebrate his nuptials
by some wickedness of this kind."

But Katharine herself was glad exceedingly, and told Lord Parr that "it
having pleased God to incline the king to take her as his wife, which
is the greatest joy and comfort that could happen to her, she informs
her brother of it as the person who has most cause to rejoice thereat,
and requires him to let her sometimes hear of his health, as friendly
as if she had not been called to this honour."

Wriothesley, in forwarding this letter from the queen, Lord Parr's
"gracious lady and kind sister," doubts not but that he will thank God,
and frame himself to be more and more an ornament to Her Majesty.

The marriage was in every way satisfactory. Katharine was twenty-six,
about one year younger than the Lady Mary, and was by universal fame
reported "a prudent, beautiful, and virtuous lady." The royal family
had reason to be grateful for her influence over the king, whom she
persuaded to restore both Mary and Elizabeth to their rank. To Edward
she was a second mother, and Henry seems to have looked upon her with
something akin to respect, appointing her regent when he crossed the
Channel to invade France in 1544.

She offended him, however, on one occasion, by venturing to express a
difference of opinion on a religious question, and it was said that
articles of heresy were drawn up against her. "A good hearing it is,"
exclaimed Henry, "when women become such clerks; and a thing much to my
comfort to come in mine old days to be taught by my wife! Her prudence
and tact saved her life, if it was ever seriously in danger."

Henry's sordid tragedy was played out on the 28th January 1547, when
the tyrant breathed his last, and left his two wives and two daughters
to unravel the skein which he had so persistently entangled for them.
Katharine Parr took her fate immediately into her own hands, and
thirty-five days after Henry's death, secretly married her former
admirer, Sir Thomas, now Lord Seymour, who was described by Hayward as
"fierce in courage, courtly in fashion, in personage stately, in voice
magnificent, but somewhat empty in matter." The union was not a happy
one, owing mainly to Seymour's intrigues with the Princess Elizabeth, a
circumstance that was thought to have shortened Katharine's life. The
ci-devant queen died at Sudeley Castle, after having given birth to a
daughter, in August 1548, aged thirty-six.

After the one tragic episode in her life, the course of Anne of Cleves
ran smoothly enough. Mary befriended her always, and made her quondam
stepmother a prominent figure at her coronation. She frequently paid
her visits, and treated her with all the respect imaginable. Anne never
left England after her ill-starred arrival, ending her days peacefully
in 1557.



III. A NOTABLE ENGLISHMAN

While Edward's Council thought that they had effectually closed every
issue through which news of the king's death might transpire, before
their seditious plans were completed, the Princess Mary was already on
her way into Norfolk, calling all loyal men and true to rally round her
standard. Two Norfolk gentlemen were mainly instrumental in placing her
on the throne. These were Sir Henry Jerningham and the subject of this
memoir, Sir Henry Bedingfeld of Oxburgh, who came in to her assistance
at Framlingham, with 140 well-armed men.

Bedingfeld proclaimed the queen at Norwich, and was afterwards rewarded
for his loyalty with an annual pension of 100 pounds out of the
forfeited estates of Sir Thomas Wyatt. Mary made him a Privy Councillor
and Knight Marshal of her army, and subsequently Lieutenant of the
Tower of London; and Captain of the Yeomen of the Guard, vice Sir Henry
Jerningham. She appointed him custodian of Elizabeth, when that
princess was confined in the Tower and at Woodstock, on suspicion of
being concerned in Wyatt's rebellion; and so little did Elizabeth
resent his severity during the time of her imprisonment, that after her
accession, she addressed him as her "trusty and well-beloved," employed
him in her service, and granted to him the manor of Caldecot in
Norfolk, which still forms part of the Oxburgh estate at the present
day.

He was undoubtedly one of the foremost Englishmen of his day, respected
by two sovereigns, and occupying prominent and honourable positions,
his loyalty being unimpeachable; yet Foxe, the martyrologist, with his
wonted dishonesty, has without the slightest foundation, and so
effectually, blackened his fame, that almost every subsequent writer on
this period has reproduced the calumnies set forth with malice prepense
in the Acts and Monuments.

Strype was the first unquestioning copyist of Foxe; Burnet was the
second; and Sir Reginald Hennell is the most recent.*

* In his volume "The History of the King's Bodyguard of the Yeomen of
the Guard."


Tennyson, in his dramatic poem Queen Mary, also went to Foxe for his
historical data, with the result that, while discarding the more
malicious interpretation of Bedingfeld's character, he has,
nevertheless, passed on to posterity a coarse and grotesque caricature
as though it were a portrait.

A fire broke out at Woodstock in May 1554, and Tennyson choosing to
suppose that Elizabeth suspected foul play, invented the following
absurd dialogue:--

LADY.
I woke Sir Henry--and he's true to you-
I read his honest horror in his eyes.

ELIZABETH.
Or true to you?

LADY.
Sir Henry Bedingfeld!
I will have no man true to me, your Grace,
But one that pares his nails; to me? the clown!
For like his cloak, his manners want the nap
And gloss of court; but of this fire he says,
Nay swears, it was no wicked wilfulness,
Only a natural chance.

ELIZABETH.
A chance-perchance
One of those wicked wilfuls that men make,
Nor shame to call it nature.

At the end of a long speech Elizabeth cries

God save the Queen. My jailor--

BEDINGFELD.
One, whose bolts,
That jail you from free life, bar you from death.
There haunt some Papist ruffians hereabout
Would murder you.

ELIZABETH.
I thank you heartily, sir,
But I am royal, tho' your prisoner,
And God hath blest or cursed me with a nose--
Your boots are from the horses.

This libel did not, however, pass unchallenged, and the father of the
present baronet wrote to the Poet Laureate the following protest:--

"Sir,--As a great admirer of your genius, I eagerly read your drama
Queen Mary, but was so surprised and pained at the ignoble part which
is allotted to Sir Henry Bedingfeld, that I cannot refrain from
addressing you on the subject. I feel justified in doing so, as I am
the direct descendant of Sir Henry, and date from the house which was
his home.

"The millions who will read Mary Tudor, or witness the play on the
stage, will carry away the impression that my ancestor was a vulgar
yeoman, in some way connected with the stables, whereas he was a man of
ancient lineage, a trusted friend and servant of the queen, who
confided to him in time of danger the Lieutenancy of the Tower, and the
custody of the Princess Elizabeth. This princess so respected Sir
Henry, that although she complained of his severity during her
captivity, she visited him at Oxburgh after her accession to the
throne, and treated him with the greatest consideration. Numerous
documents in my possession, including letters from the Sovereign, from
the Privy Council, arid from the most eminent men of the time, would
prove, were such proof required, the high position held by Sir Henry.

"I trust, therefore, to your feeling of justice that you will, if
possible, either strike out Sir Henry's name from future editions, or
allot to him a more dignified part on the stage, and one which will
convey a more correct view of his character and position.--I am, Sir,
your obedient servant,

"Henry Bedingfeld."

Tennyson's answer to the above, dated from the Isle of Wight, six
months later, though courteous, left the matter almost where it was, so
far as historical accuracy was secured:--

"Sir,--Your letter arrived when I was abroad, else would have been
answered at once; and therefore I waited till the play should be
announced for acting. I had made your ancestor an honest gentleman
though a rough one, as I found him reported to be, whether true or no;
and I regret that you should have been pained by my representation of
him. Now, in deference to your wishes, his name is not once mentioned
on the stage, and he is called in the play-bill merely 'Governor of
Woodstock.' Moreover, I have inserted a line in Elizabeth's part: 'But,
girl, you wrong a noble gentleman.'--I have the honour to be, Sir, your
obedient servant,

"A. Tennyson."

In spite, however, of the best intention on the part of the author, the
American edition of the play, priding itself on being "the only
unmutilated version," preserves the exact wording of the poem.* Thus
has history ever been medicated to suit the prejudices of the
uncritical and the ignorant.

* De Witt's acting plays, No. 181, Queen Mary; a drama. Edited by John
M. Kingdom.


Sir Henry Bedingfeld, who was born in the year 1509, was the grandson
of Sir Edmund Bedingfeld, the favourite of three successive kings,
Edward IV., Richard III., and Henry VII. This same Sir Edmund had
served in the Wars of the Roses, and Edward IV., by letters patent of
the twenty-second year of his reign, granted to him, "for his faithful
service, licence to build towers, walls, and such other fortifications
as he pleased in his manors of Oxburgh, together with a market there
weekly, and a court of pye-powder." He also bestowed on him his own
royal badge the Falcon and Fetterlock. Richard III. made him a Knight
of the Bath, and Henry VII. visited him at Oxburgh. In the third year
of his reign this king granted three manors in Yorkshire, Wold, Newton,
and Gaynton to him and his heirs male for ever, in return for his help
in crushing the rebellion in the north, which patent was renewed and
confirmed by Henry VIII. Sir Edmund died in 1496, and was succeeded by
his only son, another Edmund, who attended Henry VIII. in his foreign
wars, and was knighted for valour by Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk,
on the battle-field, after the taking of Montdidier in 1523. The king
appointed him steward to Katharine of Arragon at Kimbolton. He married
Grace, daughter of Henry, Lord Marny, and by her had four sons, Henry,
Edmund, Anthony, and Humphrey. Henry, who succeeded him in 1533, was
the famous Lieutenant of the Tower, and the "jailor" of the Princess
Elizabeth. Henry's wife was Katharine, daughter of Sir Roger Townshend,
one of the judges of the Court of Common Pleas, and ancestor of the
present Marquis Townshend. Sir Henry Bedingfeld kept up some state at
Oxburgh, having twenty servants in livery, besides those employed in
husbandry. When he was away on the queen's business, the management of
his estate devolved on Dame Katharine, and a letter from this lady
addressed "To the right worshipful, my very good husband," and dated
Oxburgh, October 1554, is a compte rendu of all she had done for his
property during his absence. This document which has had a chequered
career, has lately, with some others, found its way back to the Oxburgh
archives. Another, the draft of which has lately been discovered among
the muniments of this venerable old house, strikes a more pathetic
note, and testifies, to the affectionate dependence with which Lady
Bedingfeld leaned on her lord.

"Lady Bedingfeld to the lords of the Council, praying to have her
husband with her during her confinement:--

My Lords,--Being very near the time of my being brought to bed, and Sir
Henry Bedingfeld in the country, who is very tender in giving any
offence to the Queen's Majesty, this is humbly to beg your Lordships
will be pleased to confirm the order as he may have leave to be with me
till the time of my approaching danger be over, and I shall acknowledge
it as a very great favour done to your Lordships' most humble servant."

On the reverse side of this draft is a recipe for "Lime drinks against
the King's Evil, or any sharp humours."

Although a man does not necessarily write himself down angel or devil,
it is true of most people that their correspondence is a fair
indication of their character, tastes, and habits. The letters written
by and addressed to Sir Henry Bedingfeld reveal him as of the usual
type of country gentlemen of the period, interested in sport and
agriculture, but having also some experience of soldiering. He could be
counted on to raise a troop of horse or foot in an emergency, provided
it were in the service of the lawful sovereign. He made it his business
to become acquainted with the condition of Marshland, in order to
account to the queen for the fealty of those around him; and Elizabeth,
no less than Mary, knew that she could rely on him to uphold her
authority in the eastern Counties, His letters to Mary show that
notwithstanding his frankness, and his freedom from diplomatic
subtlety, his manners did not lack the polish of the courtier. In the
fulfilment of his charge he was ever prudent, cautious, and almost
timid in the matter of accepting responsibility; in no sense covetous
of office, he was yet so scrupulous in the discharge of duty, that he
scarcely ever acted on his own judgment if he could possibly wring
instructions from the Privy Council. His loyalty, uprightness,
courtesy, and modesty, stood him in lieu of more brilliant parts, and
his severity was at all times tempered by that quality of mercy which
"is not strained." To all this must be added his fidelity to his
religion in difficult and dangerous times.

His life after Mary's accession, to which he had materially
contributed, falls naturally into three parts: 1. The period during
which he had the care of the Princess Elizabeth. 2. His term of office
as Lieutenant of the Tower. 3. The twenty-five years after Mary's
death, which he spent for the most part in retirement in Norfolk.

On the 18th March 1554, this portentous missive was delivered to him:--

"My duty remembered, these shall be to advise you that on Friday my
lady Elizabeth was sent to the Tower at 10 of the clock. The Parliament
shall be holden at Westminster on the day aforesaid; and the Queen is
in good health, thanks be to God, who preserve you in much worship.
This Good Friday riding by the way.--Your servant to command,

"Thomas Waters.

"To the right worshipful Sir Henry Bedyngfeld give these, written in
haste."

The causes of Elizabeth's arrest were far-reaching. Circumstantial
evidence of her connection with Wyatt's rebellion was not wanting, and
if Mary had been willing to have her sister convicted on that evidence
alone, her head would undoubtedly have fallen on the block. Elizabeth
herself in numerous instances caused blood to flow on far less certain
grounds. But her guilt could not otherwise be brought home, and in her
first Parliament Mary had restored the ancient, constitutional law of
England, by which overt or spoken acts of treason must be proved,
before any English person could be convicted as a traitor.

The case against Elizabeth was this. The French Ambassador, de
Noailles, whose instructions were that he should play upon the popular
discontent in regard to the queen's proposed marriage to Philip of
Spain, in the interest of France, encouraged Elizabeth to associate
herself with the factious, and to become, as it were, the
stalking-horse of the disaffected. She was far too clever to commit
herself to any direct act of rebellion, but de Noailles was prodigal of
her name in all the intrigues that he fostered, and the plot organised
by means of Sir Peter Carew, in Devonshire and Cornwall, had for its
declared object the marriage of Elizabeth to Courtenay, Earl of Devon,
and the placing of these two on the throne. Sir Thomas Wyatt had
meanwhile raised the standard of revolt in the home counties, but
before leaving London for that purpose, he had written a letter to
Elizabeth, urging her for greater safety to retire to her castle of
Donnington. This letter fell into the hands of the Council, as did also
three letters from de Noailles to the French king, directly implicating
Elizabeth in the insurrection, and a copy of the letter which she had
written to Mary, refusing on the plea of illness to obey the queen's
summons to the Court. Lord Russell confessed to having carried
communications between the princess and Wyatt, and that traitor, being
brought to trial, owned that the object of his rising was to secure the
crown for Elizabeth and Courtenay. He subsequently repeated the
statement, adding that the French king had promised them men and money,
and was to attack Calais and Guisnes the moment the rebels were in
possession of London. Whether he really withdrew this accusation of
Elizabeth on the scaffold must always remain doubtful, the testimony of
the sheriffs being in direct contradiction to that of Lord Chandos, who
was also present. It was not until Wyatt had formerly declared
Elizabeth to be conspiring with Henry II. of France, that Mary was at
length convinced of the necessity of securing her person. She repeated
her summons, but not, as Foxe would have us believe, with inconsiderate
cruelty and rough haste. Elizabeth's uncle, Admiral Lord William
Howard, Sir Edward Hastings, and Sir Thomas Cornwallis, were sent to
escort her from Ashridge to Westminster, with two physicians who were
to decide whether she were well enough to travel. She was treated with
uniform courtesy and consideration, and the journey of thirty-three
miles, originally intended to occupy five days, was actually made to
cover a whole week. The imperial ambassador thus describes her
arrival*:--

* State Papers (Domestic), 1554, vol. xxi.; R.O.


"The lady Elizabeth arrived here yesterday, clad completely in white,
surrounded by a great assemblage of servants of the Queen, besides her
own people. Her countenance was pale, her look proud, lofty, and
superbly disdainful, an expression which she assumed to disguise the
mortification she felt. The Queen declined seeing her, and caused her
to be accommodated in a quarter of her palace from which neither she
nor her servants could go out without passing through the guards. Of
her suite, only two gentlemen, six ladies, and four servants are
permitted to wait on her, the rest of her train being lodged in the
city of London. The queen is advised to send her to the Tower, since
she is accused by Wyatt, named in the letters of the French ambassador,
suspected by her own councillors, and it is certain that the enterprise
was undertaken in her favour."*

* Record Office Transcripts (Belgian Archives), printed by Tytler in
his England under the reins of Edward VI. and Mary.


When charged with complicity in the plot, Elizabeth replied that she
knew nothing of it. The members of the Council were divided concerning
her, some maintaining that the legal proof against her was insufficient
to justify her being sent to the Tower, while others were for giving
her short shrift. Mary availed herself of this loophole, and caused
each lord of the Council in succession to be asked to undertake the
custody of the princess in his own house. Not one was willing to accept
the perilous office, and a warrant was therefore made out for her
committal. There was a very general impression at the time, that her
life would have been in danger, but for Mary's determination that the
law should not be infringed at her trial. Nothing could be adduced that
was not already known, and in spite of the emperor's reiterated demands
for her execution, Mary would not have her convicted on the only
evidence obtainable.

It was for Elizabeth's greater safety that the queen appointed Sir
Henry Bedingfeld to be her custodian, and Foxe's absurd description of
Bedingfeld's arrival with his hundred soldiers in blue-coats, and
Elizabeth's terror at the sight, is manifestly a fabrication of the
martyrologist's brain. We have already had a glimpse of Sir Henry's
antecedent history. He had materially contributed to Mary's triumph
over her enemies, and may be said to have been one of the train
instruments in placing the Queen on the throne; he was a distinguished
member of her Privy Council, therefore a public personage, and it is
inconceivable that Elizabeth should have asked who he was, as being "a
man unknown to her Grace," or that her attendants and friends should
have answered that "they were ignorant what manner of man he was." Foxe
himself had betaken himself to foreign parts on Mary's accession, and
may perhaps be pardoned for not knowing, although we find it hard to
forgive him for the baseless fabrication by which he sought to
discredit the queen and all those who served her faithfully.

"About that time," romances Foxe, "it was spread abroad that her Grace
should be carried from thence by this new jolly Captain and his
soldiers; but whither it could not be learned, which was unto her a
great grief, especially for that such a company was appointed to her
guard, requesting rather to continue there still, than to be led thence
with such a sort of rascals. At last plain answer was made by the Lord
Chandos, that there was no remedy but from thence she must needs depart
to the manor of Woodstock."

He goes on to say that on 19th May she was removed from the Tower,
"where Sir Henry Benifield [being appointed her jailor] did receive her
with a company of rake-hells to guard her, besides the Lord Derby's
band, wafting in the country about for moonshine in the water. Unto
whom at length came my Lord of Thame, joined in commission with the
said Sir Henry for the safeguarding of her to prison, and they together
conveyed her Grace to Woodstock, as hereafter followeth. The first day
they conducted her to Richmond, where she continued all night, being
restrained of her own men which were laid in out-chambers, and Sir
Henry Benifield's soldiers appointed in their rooms to give attendance
on her person. Whereat she being marvellously dismayed, thinking verily
some secret mischief to be a-working towards her, called her
gentleman-usher, and desired him with the rest of his company to pray
for her. 'For this night,' quoth she, 'I think to die.' Wherewith, he
being stricken to the heart, said, 'God forbid that any such wickedness
should be pretended against your Grace.' So comforting her as well as
he could, at last he burst out into tears, and went from her down into
the court, where were talking the Lord Thame and Sir Henry Benifield."

We may now dismiss Foxe and his egregious insinuations of foul play,
together with his monstrous inventions of boorishness on the part of
Elizabeth's custodian. In spite of his calumnies, it remains perfectly
clear that Elizabeth had every reason to be thankful that her "jailor"
was faithful to his trust, and that firmness and caution, rather than
weak indulgence, characterised all his conduct towards her. As for his
alleged want of courtesy towards her, there is not a shadow of evidence
to support it; he frequently knelt to address her, and even in speaking
or writing of her, maintained the same deferential mode of expression
as that which he used in her presence.

Each incident of the journey from the Tower to Woodstock is detailed in
Sir Henry's report to the Privy Council. Elizabeth apparently seized
every opportunity of making his difficult task yet more difficult; but
wayward and imperious as her temper often was, nothing in his demeanour
towards her ever approached to disrespect or even impatience. Even she
herself brought no other complaint against her custodian than that of
"scrupulousness" in the discharge of his duty, a charge which is in
itself a magnificent vindication, for the Elizabeth of history was not
one to forgive a man who had failed in the smallest degree to pay her
the homage due to her rank. Moreover, in regard to Sir Henry's
soldiers, no single instance is recorded on either side of misbehaviour
or want of decorum on their part.

In his first letter to the queen after their arrival at Woodstock, Sir
Henry says:--

"My lady Elizabeth's Grace did use [? peruse] the letter which your
Highness sent her, wherein she was right weary, to my judgment, the
occasion rising of the stark style of the same letter, being warpen and
cast. This present day she hath not been very well at ease, as your
Highness's women did declare unto me, and yet at the afternoon she
required to walk, and see another lodging in the house. In the which,
and other her like requests, I am marvellously perplexed to grant her
desire, or to say nay, seeing it hath been your Highness's pleasure to
remove her person from and out of the Tower of London where I was led
to do upon more certainty by the precedent of my good Lord Chamberlain
[Sir John Gage] and also by certain articles, by me exhibited unto my
lords of the Council and by them ordered, which were to me a perfect
rule at that time, and now is very hard to be observed in this place.
Wherefore I most lowly and heartily do desire your Highness to give me
authority and order in writing from your Majesty or your Council, how
to demean myself in this your Highness's service, whereby I shall be
the more able to do the same, and also receive comfort and heart's ease
to be your Highness's daily beadsman to God for persuasion of your most
princely and sovereign estate long to endure to God's honour.

"The 21 of May, 1554."*

* This and the next following letters are taken from the fourth volume
of the publications of the Norfolk and Norwich Archaeological Society,
"State Papers relating to the custody of the Princess Elizabeth at
Woodstock in 1554," being letters between Queen Mary and her Privy
Council and Sir Henry Bedingfeld, Knight, of Oxburgh, Norfolk,
communicated by the Rev. C.R. Manning, M.A., Hon. Sec. The originals
were formerly in Mr. Manning's possession, but have now disappeared.
The present writer has modernised the spelling.


In answer to this letter the Council wrote approving his doings, and
thanking Sir Henry on the part of the queen. A number of instructions
for his further conduct were also sent, the purport of which will be
gathered from his reply:--

"My letter answering to the former, the Council's letters.

"So it is, most honourable lords, that upon the return of my brother
Humphrey, I received instructions signed with the Queen's Majesty's
hand, and enclosed in a letter signed by your Lordships as a warrant to
direct my service how to be used during the Queen's Majesty's pleasure,
trusting only in God to make me able to do and accomplish the same. I
travail and shall do to the best of my power till God and her Highness
shall otherwise dispose for me, wishing that shortly it should come to
pass, if it may so stand with her Highness's good contention and your
honour. As touching the fifth article, which purported this in effect
that I should not suffer the lady Elizabeth's Grace to have conference
with any suspect person out of my hearing, that she do not by any means
either receive or send any message, letter or token, to or from any
manner of person, which, under your honourable corrections, must thus
answer to that, as touching conference with suspected persons, if your
Lordships mean strangers, and such as be not daily attending upon her
person by your assents and privities, with the help above said, I dare
take upon me that to do. But if you mean general conference with all
persons, as well within her house as without, I shall beseech you of
pardon, for that I dare not take upon me, nor yet for message, letter
or token, which may be conveyed by any of the three women of her privy
chamber, her two grooms of the same or the yeomen of the robes, all
which persons and none others be with her Grace at her going to her
lodging, and part of them all night, and until such time as her grace
cometh to her dining-chamber, the grooms always after going abroad
within the house, having full opportunity to do such matter as is
prohibited. And hereunto I beseech your honours ask my Lord Chamberlain
whether it will be within possibility for me to do it or no, whose
order in all things I have and do, according to my poor wit and
endeavour put in use; and upon his declaration to direct order
possible. At the present writing hereof one Marbery, my lady Grace's
servant, brought his wife, Elizabeth Marbery, to have been received to
have wait upon her Grace, in the stead of Elizabeth Sands, and because
I received no manner of warrant from you my Lords, to do it, I have
required the said Marbery to stay himself and his wife hereabouts, till
I might receive the same, which I pray you to do with all speed, for
they been very poor folks, and unable to bear their own charge as I
perceive.

"Her Grace, thanks be to God, continueth in reasonable health and
quietness, as far as I can perceive; but she claimeth promise of the
mouth of my Lords Treasurer and Chamberlain to have the liberty of walk
within the whole park of Woodstock. This she hath caused to come to
mine ear by my Lady Gray, but never spoke of it to me by express words
. . . . Her Grace hath not hitherto made any request to walk in any
other place than in the over and nether gardens with the orchard,
which, if she happens to do, I must needs answer I neither dare nor
will assent unto it, till by the Queen's Highness and your honours I be
authorised that to do . . . . Cornwallis, the gentleman-usher, did move
me to assent that the cloth of estate should be hanged up for her
Grace, whereunto I directly said nay, till your Lordships' pleasures
were known therein.

"Postscript.--There was some peril of fire within the house, which we
have without any loss to be regarded, escaped. Thanks be to God."

In answer to the above the Council thanked and commended Sir Henry for
all that he had hitherto done, adding:--

"Where ye desire to be resolved of certain doubts which you gather upon
your instructions, ye shall understand that although we well know ye
cannot meet such inconvenience as may happen by those that attend upon
the lady Elizabeth, in bringing unto her letters, messages or tokens,
yet if ye shall use your diligence and wisdom there as ye shall see
cause, it shall be your sufficient discharge. As for strangers, ye must
foresee that no persons suspect have any conference with her at all,
and yet to permit such strangers whom ye shall think honest and not
suspicious, upon any reasonable cause to speak with her in your hearing
only. As for placing Elizabeth Marbery in lieu of Sands, letters be
already sent from the Queen's Highness unto you therefore, which we
pray you to see executed accordingly. Where she claimeth promise of the
Lord Treasurer and me the Lord Chamberlain to walk in the park, as we
have heard nothing before this time thereof, so do not I the Lord
Chamberlain remember any such promise."

The queen's letter was as follows:--

"Marye The Quene. By the Quene

"Trusty and right well-beloved, we greet you well. And where we be
informed that Sands, one of the women presently attending about our
sister the Lady Elizabeth, is a person of an evil opinion, and not fit
to remain about our said sister's person, we let you wit, our will and
pleasure is, you shall travail with our said sister, and by the best
means ye can persuade her to be contented to have the said Sands
removed from her, and to accept in her place, Elizabeth Marbery,
another of her women, who shall be sent thither for that purpose: whom
at her coming we require you to be placed there, and to give order that
the said Sands may be removed from thence accordingly.

"Given under our signet, at our manor of St. James, the 26th day of
May, the first year of our reign."

It was soon found necessary to cancel the permission for strangers to
have access to the captive princess, and the Council accordingly wrote
to Sir Henry:--

"And forasmuch as it appeareth hereby that such private persons as be
disposed to disquiet will not let to take occasion if they may, to
convey messages or letters in and out by some secret practice, her
Majesty's further pleasure is for the avoiding hereof, that ye shall
henceforth suffer no manner person other than such as are already
appointed to, be about the Lady Elizabeth, to come unto her or have any
manner, talk, or conference with her, any former instructions or
letters heretofore sent you to the contrary notwithstanding."

Elizabeth made difficulties with regard to every detail of her custody,
and the substitution of Marbery, although she was one of her own women,
for Sands, was not effected without a struggle; but on the 5th June Sir
Henry was able to report that: "The same was done this present day,
about 2 of the clock in the afternoon, not without great mourning both
of my Lady's Grace and Sands. And she was conveyed into the town by my
brother Edmund, and by him delivered to Mr. Parry, who at my desire
yesternight did prepare horse and men to be ready to convey her either
to Clerkenwell beside London to her uncle there, or else into Kent, to
her father, towards the which he promised she should go. This I do
signify unto your lordships, because I think her a woman meet to be
looked unto for her obstinate disposition."

In another very long letter he certifies that the princess has asked
for an English Bible "of the smallest possible volume," desiring that
he would send to her cofferer for one. But the cofferer replied that he
had none at all, but sent a servant with three books, one of which
contained the Psalms of David and the Canticles. Leave was given for
her to have an English Bible, and for her to write to the Queen as she
desired.

On the 12th June Sir Henry wrote to the Council a letter highly
informative as to the difficulties of his position:--

"Pleaseth it your honourable lordships to be advertised, that the same
day I last wrote unto you, my lady Elizabeth's Grace demanded of me
whether I had provided her the book of the Bible in English of the
smallest volume, or no. I answered, because there were divers Latin
books in my hands ready to be delivered if it pleased her to have them,
wherein as I thought she should have more delight, seeing she
understandeth the same so well; therefore I had not provided the same,
which answer I perceived she took not in good part, and within
half-an-hour after that, in her walking in the nether garden, in the
most unpleasant sort that ever I saw her since her coming from the
Tower, she called me to her again, and said in these words: 'I have at
divers times spoken to you to write to my lords of certain my requests,
and you never make me answer to any of them. I think (quoth she) you
make none of my lords privy to my suit, but only my Lord Chamberlain,
who, although I know him to be a good gentleman, yet by age, and other
his earnest business, I know he hath occasion to forget many things.'
To this I answered that I did never write in her Grace's matter to any
of you my lords privately, and said unto her Grace further, that I
thought this was a time that your lordships had great business in,* and
therefore her Grace could not look for direct answer upon the first
suit. 'Well,' said she, 'once again I require you to do thus much for
me, to write unto my said lords, on my behalf to be means unto the
Queen's Majesty, to grant me leave to write unto her Highness with mine
own hand, and in this I pray you let me have answer as soon as you
can.' To this I answered: 'I shall do for your Grace that I am able to
do, which is to write to my said Lords, and then it must needs rest in
their honourable considerations whether I shall have answer or no,'
since which time her Grace never spoke to me. Surely, I take it that
the remembrance of Elizabeth Sands' departing, and the only placing
Marbery in her room, clearly against her late desire, is some cause of
her grief [grievance]."

* On account of the Queen's approaching marriage.


The effect produced by the princess's letter to Mary may be gathered
from the following reply, written by the Queen to Sir Henry:--

"Marye The Quene. By the Quene.

"Trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well. And where our pleasure was
of late signified unto you for the Lady Elizabeth to have licence to
write unto us, we have now received her letters, containing only
certain arguments devised for her declaration in such matters as she
hath been charged withal by the voluntary confessions of divers others.
In which arguments she would seem to persuade us, that the testimony of
those who have opened matters against her, either were not such as they
be, or being such should have no credit. But as we were most sorry at
the beginning, to have any occasion of suspicion, so when it appeared
unto us, that the copies of her secret letters unto us were found in
the packet of the French ambassador, that divers of the most notable
traitors made their chief account upon her, we can hardly be brought to
think that they would have presumed to do so, except they had had more
certain knowledge of her favour towards their unnatural conspiracy than
is yet by her confessed. And therefore, though we have for our part,
considering the matter brought to our knowledge against her, used more
clemency and favour towards her than in the like matter hath been
accustomed; yet cannot these fair words so much abuse [deceive] us, but
we do well understand how these things have been wrought. Conspiracies
be secretly practised, and things of that nature be many times judged
by probable conjectures, and other suspicions and arguments, where the
plain, direct proof may chance to fail; even as wise Solomon judged who
was the true mother of the child by the woman's behaviour and words,
when other proof failed and could not be had. By the argument and
circumstances of her said letter with other articles declared on your
behalf by your brother to our Privy Council, it may well appear her
meaning and purpose to be far otherwise than her letters purported.
Wherefore our pleasure is not to be hereafter any more molested with
such her disguise and colourable letters, but wish for her that it may
please our Lord to grant her His grace to be towards Him as she ought
to be; then shall she the sooner be towards us as becometh her. This
much have we thought good to write unto you, to the intent ye might
understand the effect of those letters, and so continue your accustomed
diligence in the charge by us committed to you.

"Given under our signet at the Castle of Farnham, the 25th day of June,
the first year of our reign."

The gist of this letter was communicated to Elizabeth by Sir Henry in
the manner he himself describes:--

"Yesterday I went to hear Mass in her Grace's chamber; that being
ended, in the time of doing my duty, thinking to have departed from her
Grace, she called me, and asked whether I had heard of any answer that
was or should be made by the Queen's Majesty to her late letters. Upon
which occasion, fitly as I took it, I made her Grace answer that I had
to declare unto her an answer on the Queen's Majesty's behalf,
whensoever she should command me. 'Let it be even now,' said her Grace.
'If you will,' I answered, 'because I was fearful to misreport;
therefore I have scribbled it as well as I can with mine own hand, and
if you will give me leave to fetch it,' and, being ready to go in to
her Grace with it, I received word from her Grace by one of the Queen's
Majesty's women to stay till her Grace had dined, and then she would
hear it. Within a mean pause after dinner she sent for me, and having
Mr. Tomiou in my company, who going with me into the outer chamber,
there staying, I went in to her Grace, and required her if it so stood
with her pleasure that he might hear the doing of the message. She
granted it, and I called him in, and kneeling by with me, I read unto
her Grace my message according to the effect of the Queen's Majesty's
letter. After once hearing of it she uttered certain words, bewailing
her own chance in that her Grace's letter, contrary to her
expectations, took no better effect, and desired to hear it once again,
which I did. And then her Grace said: 'I note especially to my great
discomfort [which I shall, nevertheless, willingly obey] that the
Queen's Majesty is not pleased that I should molest her Highness with
any more of my colourable letters, which, although they be termed
colourable, yet not offending the Queen's Majesty, I must say for
myself that it was the plain truth, even as I desire to be saved afore
God Almighty, and so let it pass. Yet, Mr. Bedyngfeld, if you think you
may do so much for me, I would have you to receive an answer which I
would make unto you touching your message, which I would at the least
way, my Lords of the Council might understand, and that ye would
conceive it upon my words, and put it in writing, and let me hear it
again. And if it be according to my meaning, so to pass it to my
lordships for my better comfort in mine adversity.' To this I answered
her Grace: 'I pray you, hold me excused that I do not grant your
request in the same.' Then she said: 'It is like that I shall be
offered more than ever any prisoner was in the Tower, for the prisoners
be suffered to open their mind to the Lieutenant, and he to declare the
same unto the Council, and you refuse to do the like.' To this I
answered her Grace that there was a diversity where the Lieutenant did
hear a prisoner declare matters touching his case, and should thereof
give notice unto the Council, and where the prisoner should, as it
were, command the Lieutenant to do his message to the Council.
Therefore, I desired that her Grace would give me leave with patience
not to agree to her desire herein, and so departed from her Grace.

"Yesterday morning again, about x of the clock, in the time of her
walk, she called me to her in the little garden, and said: 'I remember
yesterday ye refused utterly to write on my behalf unto my Lords of the
Council, and therefore, if you continue in that mind still, I shall be
in worse case than the worst prisoner In Newgate, for they be never
gainsaid in the time of their imprisonment by one friend or other to
have their cause opened or sued for, and this is and shall be such a
conclusion unto me, that I must needs continue this life without all
hope worldly, wholly resting to the truth of my cause, and that before
God to be opened, arming myself against whatsoever shall happen, to
remain the Queen's true subject as I have done during my life. It
waxeth wet, and therefore I will depart to my lodging again;' and so
she did. Thus much concerning her Grace, I thought it my duty to give
your lordships advertisement of, to be considered as it shall please
your honours, clearly omitting any part of the message, and such which
my lady's Grace would have had me to have taken upon me, and shall do
so, unless I have the Queen's Majesty's warrant for the same."

This report had the desired effect, and the Council gave Sir Henry
leave "to write those things that she shall desire you, and to signify
the same to us of her Majesty's Council, sending your letters touching
that matter enclosed in some paper directed to her Highness, so as she
may herself have the first sight thereof."

Mary's next letter was personal to Sir Henry himself:--

"Trusty and right well-beloved, we greet you well. And where we
understand that by occasion of certain our instructions lately given
unto you, ye do continually make your personal abode within that our
house at Woodstock, without removing from thence at any time, which
thing might, peradventure in continuance, be both some danger to your
health, and be occasion also that ye shall not be so well able to
understand the state of the country thereabouts, as otherwise ye might;
we let you wit that in consideration thereof; we are pleased ye may at
any time, when yourself shall think convenient, make your repair from
out of our said house, leaving one of your brethren to look to your
charge, and see to the good governance of that house in your absence,
so as, nevertheless, ye return back again yourself at night, for the
better looking to your said charge. And for your better ease and
recreation, we are, in like manner pleased that ye and your brethren
may, at your liberties, hawk for your pastime at the partridge, or hunt
the hare within that our manor of Woodstock, or any of our grounds
adjoining to the same, from time to time, when ye shall think most
convenient; and that also ye may, if ye shall so think good, cause your
wife to be sent for, and to remain there with you as long as yourself
shall think meet.

"Given under our signet at our Castle of Farnham, ye 7th of July, ye
second year of our reign."

Elizabeth was not slow to profit by the permission obtained for her to
write to the Council through the intermediary allowed, and Sir Henry's
letter-book contains the following transcript of his report written in
his own hand.

"My lady Elizabeth's Grace's suit:--

"My lady Elizabeth, this present 30th of July, required me to make
report of her Grace's mind as her suit to your honours to be means to
the Queen's Majesty on her behalf to this effect. To beseech your
lordships all to consider her woeful case, that being but once licensed
to write as an humble suitress unto the Queen's Highness, and received
thereby no such comfort as she hoped to have done, but to her further
discomfort in a message by me opened, that it was the Queen's
Highness's pleasure not to be any more molested with her Grace's
letters, that it may please the same, and that upon very pity,
considering her long imprisonment and restraint of liberty, either to
charge her with special matter to be answered unto and tried, or to
grant her liberty to come unto Her Highness's presence, which she saith
she would not desire, were it not that she knoweth herself to be clear,
even before God, of her allegiance. And if also by your good mediations
she might not enjoy the Queen's Highness's most gracious favour without
any scruples or suspicions of her truth, she had rather willingly
suffer this that she doth, and much more, than her Majesty should in
any case be troubled or disquieted, touching her whose honour surely
and preservation she saith she doth desire above all things in this
world. Requiring me further to move chiefly as many of you my lords as
were a Council, parties, and privy to and for the execution of the will
of the King's Majesty her father, to further this her Grace's suit
above said. And if neither of these two her suits may be obtained by
your lordships for her, that then it might please the Queen's Highness
to grant that some of you my lords may have leave to repair hither unto
her, and to receive her suit of her own mouth to be opened. Whereby she
may take a release not to think herself utterly desolate of all refuge
in this world."

To this the Council made reply on the 7th August that "the Queen's
Highness" would "take a time to consider, and at convenient leisure
make such answer thereunto as shall be` necessary"; but Elizabeth's
imperious temper brooked no delay, and Sir Henry was soon prevailed on
to jog their lordship's memories:--

"Upon Friday last," he wrote, "my lady Elizabeth's Grace, in the time
of her walk in the over garden here, in the forenoon of the same day,
said unto me, 'I have very slow speed in the answer of any of my suits,
and I know it is ever so, when that there is not one appointed to give
daily attendance in suit-making for answer. And therefore,' saith she,
'I pray you let me send a servant of mine own to whom I will do the
message in your hearing that he shall do by my commandment; and this I
think,' said she, 'is not against the order and service appointed unto
you.' To which I answered requiring her Grace to be contented, for I
neither could nor would assent to any such her request. 'Then,' said
she, 'I am at a marvellous afterdeal [disadvantage], for I have known
that the wife hath been received to sue for her husband, the kinsman,
friend or servant for them that hath been in the case I now am, and
never denied.' To that I answered: 'I myself am of small experience in
such case; that notwithstanding, I trust ye shall not be long, or my
lords of the Council will remember your suit, and answer the same.'"
And so her Grace ended.

Harsh as this refusal may appear at first sight, it must be admitted
that Sir Henry, in reporting his conversations with Elizabeth to the
Council often obtained for her if not exactly what she had asked for,
at least some concession, which, had she been entirely in good faith,
would have served her purpose as well. But in spite of her jailor's
"scrupulousness " she contrived to communicate pretty freely by means
of Parry, her cofferer, and others, with the outside world. Bolts and
bars were ineffectual so long as those who surrounded her were willing
intermediaries between her and the enemies of the queen, and Sir Henry
knew it well. He desired nothing more than to be rid of his onerous
charge, as is seen by the following letter to Thirlby, Bishop of Ely:--

"After my hearty commendations to your good lordship, so it is that as
you do know, I have continued this service by the space of fifteen
weeks, in care of mind and some travail of body, which I would be glad
to make suit to be relieved of, if I might know it should be taken in
good part. And having no friend whom I believe myself to be so assured
of as your lordship, even thereupon I am bold by these heartily to
desire your travail in my behalf [if it so stand with your good
opinion] to the Queen's Majesty, to grant me my discharge from the
same. Wherein I trust my Lord Chancellor* will join with you, if it
content you to move him thereunto, who, by words of marvellous effect
comprising both the Queen's commandment that I should enter into it,
and his earnest request at that time also, did cause me to take in hand
the same. And lest my, said Lord should forget, I pray you put him in
remembrance that he had this talk with me upon the causeway betwixt the
house of Saint James and Charing Cross. And what it shall content you
to do for me herein, I shall desire you to be ascertained by your
letters, upon the return of the messenger. I made late a suit to you
for your house at Blackfriars, and received answer that you had
otherwise disposed the same; yet remembering that you had an house of
my Lord of Bath in Holborn, which, as the case now standeth, I think
your Lordship will have little pleasure to use, and if, by your good
mean, I might obtain the same at my Lord of Bath's hands, you should do
unto me a great good turn, which have no house of refuge in London, but
the common inn, and would be glad to give large money to be avoided of
that inconvenience. And thus remaining at the Queen's Majesty's house
of Woodstock [out of which I was never, by the space of six hours, sith
my coming into the same], I leave to trouble your Lordship with this my
rude writing.

"At the house aforesaid, the 16th day of August 1554."

* Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester.


But nothing came of his efforts to get himself released, and the
unequal contest between his "scrupulousness," and Elizabeth's astute,
unfathomable diplomacy was still to be waged for many months. Her
request to be allowed to send a verbal message to the Council by one of
her servants was indeed declined, but she received permission to commit
her petition to paper. On the 20th September, Sir Henry wrote to the
Council:--

Upon the return of my brother Edmund with your honourable letters dated
at Hampton Court the 15th of this present month, I did take knowledge
that your lordships had obtained of the Queen's Majesty that my lady
Elizabeth's Grace might write unto your lordships, delivering the same
unto me to be addressed unto your honours, inclosed in my letter, by
one of her grace's extraordinary servants; whereupon the Monday, being
the 17th day in the forenoon of the same, I declared that your
lordships had granted her Grace's late desire in form above said, which
was glad tidings as I took it. Yet her Grace at that time did neither
command me to prepare things for her Grace to write with nor named who
should be her messenger, and so I departed. Her Grace never spake words
of that matter more till the Sunday following, in the time of her
Grace's walk at the afternoon, at which time her Grace commanded to
prepare her pen and ink and paper against the next day, which I did.
Upon Monday in the morning her Grace sent Mistress Morton, the Queen's
Highness's woman for the same, to whom I delivered a standsel [an
inkstand] with five pens, two sheets of fine paper and one coarse
sheet, enclosing the same with this request unto the said Mistress
Morton, that she should make suit to my lady's Grace on my behalf, that
it would please her Grace not to use the same but in the sight of
Mistress Tomio or her. And the same Mistress Morton did this, and
brought me word that her Grace had consented to my said suit, and that
I should also send word unto Francis Verney, her Grace's ordinary
servant lying in the town of Woodstock, with her cofferer to be
messenger. Where I perceive they use as much privy conference to her
Grace and from her as they list, even as I advertised your lordships
long ago. The house also being a common inn wherein they do lie, and
they so politic as they be, I can get no knowledge of their doings by
any espyal; this only I am sure of they meet not together in person. At
the afternoon, in her Grace's going to walk, I heard her say she had
such pain in her head that she could write no more that day. Tuesday in
the morning, as I learned of Mistress Morton, she washed her head."

On the 4th October he wrote to the queen:--

"May it please your Highness to be advertised that this great lady,
upon whose person ye have commanded mine attendance, is and hath been
in quiet state for the health of her body this month or six weeks, and
of her mind declareth nothing outwardly by word or deed that I can come
to the knowledge of, but all tending to the hope she saith she hath of
your clemency and mercy towards her. Marry, against my lords of your
most honourable Council I have heard her speak, words that declare that
she hath conceived great unkindness in them, if her meaning go with her
words, whereof God only is judge."

His task grew daily more complicated, and the next letter is a key to
the situation:--

"My humble duty remembered unto your honourable Lordships, these shall
be to advertise the same, that this present 21st day of October, my
lady Elizabeth's Grace commanded me to prepare things necessary for her
to write unto your lordships, whereupon I took occasion to declare onto
her Grace that the express words of your honourable Letters, dated at
Hampton Court, the 15th of September, did trot bear that the Queen's
Majesty was pleased that her Grace, upon any occasion from time to time
moving, and as often as it pleased her, might write unto you. And
therefore I prayed her Grace to stay her determination therein until I
might signify this my doubt unto your lordships, and receive your full
and plain determination therein for my discharge; which my suit she
took in so ill part that her Grace of displeasure therein did utter,
with more words of reproach of this my service, about her by the
Queen's commandment than ever I heard her speak afore: too long to
write. At afternoon her Grace sent for me by Mrs. Pomeyow, and then in
a more quieter sort, required me to write unto your honours, and
thereby to desire the same to be means for her unto the Queen's
Highness to grant that Drs. Wendy, Owen, and Huick, or two of them, may
be licensed with convenient speed to repair hither, for to minister
unto her physic, bringing of their own choice one expert surgeon to let
her Grace's blood, if the said doctors or two of them shall think it so
good, upon the view of her suit upon their coming . . . . Most heartily
desiring your honours to return with the same your absolute opinions to
the first matter which shall be done accordingly, with our Lord's leave
and help, to understand your pleasures and commandments aright, which
this great lady saith may have good meaning in me, but it lacketh
knowledge, experience, and all other accidents in such a service
requisite, which I must needs confess. The help only hereof resteth in
God and the Queen's Majesty, with your honourable advice; from whence
to receive the discharge of this my service, without offence to the
Queen's Majesty or you my good lords, were the joyfullest tidings that
ever came to me, as our Lord Almighty knoweth, to whom no secrets be
hidden."

The physicians were sent to Woodstock, and Elizabeth was "let blood,"
Sir Henry testifying that "by her own commandment" he saw it done "by
the bleeding of her army); and some hours later he saw her foot
"stricken and bled, since which time, thanks be to God, as far as I see
or hear she doeth reasonably well as that case requireth."

Some months later "the joyfullest tidings that ever came" were conveyed
in a letter from the queen. It was the herald of his longed-for
"discharge":--

"Marye The Quene. By the Quene.

"Trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well. And for as much as we have
resolved to have the lady Elizabeth to repair nearer unto us, we do
therefore pray and require you to declare unto her that our pleasure is
she shall come to us to Hampton Court in your company with as much
speed as you can have things in order for that purpose; wherein you
shall not need to make any delay for calling of any other numbers than
these, which be yourself and those now there attendant upon her. And of
the time of your setting forwards from thence, and by what day you
shall think you may be there, we require you to advertise us by your
letters with speed.

"Given under our signet at our honour of Hampton Court, the 17th of
April the 1st and 2nd of our reign."

On their arrival at court Sir Henry Bedingfeld was relieved, Sir Thomas
Pope being appointed to replace him. Elizabeth was soon afterwards
allowed to retire to Hatfield, where she remained under supervision
till her accession. In the meanwhile, Bedingfeld was appointed
Lieutenant of the Tower, and the following selection of letters from
the family archives at Oxburgh not only affords us a further insight
into his character, but shows at the same time in what manner the State
prisoners were treated by the Queen, the Council, and the Lieutenant.

The two first letters relate to Sir John Cheke who, together with Sir
Peter Carew, had been arrested in Flanders, and brought to the Tower
for implication in Wyatt's rebellion. Carew was released in October
1555.

"Sir Robert Rochester to Sir Henry Bedingfeld.

"Mr. Lieutenant,--My Lord Cardinal his Grace* being gone to Lambeth of
express purpose, there to have before him Mr. Cheke, hath required me
to write unto you, and to require you that the said Mr. Cheke may be
sent unto him unto Lambeth, in the company and with the Dean of Paul's.
Wherefore I pray you take order with the said Dean so as he may convey
him thither accordingly. The meaning is that no officer of the Tower
should be troubled with his conveyance thither, but only the Dean to be
charged by you with his person to bring to my Lord Cardinal's presence,
and he to bring him again when it shall please my said Lord to command
him, who hath the whole order and disposition of this case. This must
be done when Mr. Dean he cometh to you for the man. And so bids you
most heartily well to fare, from the Court this present morning, your
assured friend, R. Rochester."

*Cardinal Pole.


"Sir John Feckenham, Priest,* to Sir John Cheke.

* Abbot of Westminster, who was appointed to examine Cheke in matters
of religion.


"Gentle Mr. Cheke,--It was this day somewhat past l0 of the clock
before I could have any determinate answer of your coming unto the
Court, which is now appointed to be at 2 of the clock in the afternoon.
I shall send two of my servants to wait upon you from the Tower unto my
house, at 1 of the clock, and from thence I will go with you unto the
Court myself. I do think that Mr. Lieutenant is already put to
knowledge thereof, but if it be forgotten give unto him this my letter,
and he will not stay you. Your submission is very well liked, and the
Queen's Highness hath seen the same, with which her Majesty has found
no fault, but only that you had forgotten to make mention in the latter
end thereof of the King's Majesty. And therefore you must write it all
whole again, and in the latter end add these words which I have added
touching the King's Majesty, or else everything is as it was in your
own copy save that I added in one place the real presence of Christ's
Body and Blood. I pray you leave not out these words, and at your
coming I shall hear your cause, where notwithstanding your few lines
which is wrote unto me thereof, be you of good comfort; all things are
well, and imagined best for your furtherance. You have more friends
than you be ware of. Thus fare you well, this present 5 of Sep. 1556,
by your assured friend, John Fecknam, Priest.

"I pray you fail not to write it all again, and that as large and plain
as you can, for I am commanded to request you that you duly so do."

Dr. Cheke, having proved his innocence of conspiracy to the
satisfaction of the Council, and having recanted his heresy, was
released, and "through the efficacy of his language," about thirty
others followed his example, and saved their lives. He died the next
year, the heretics said, of remorse for what he had done against the
reformed religion.

Edward Lewkner, who according to Machyn's Diary had been groom-porter
to Edward VI. and Mary, "was cast to suffer death" in the third year of
Mary's reign for participation in the Dudley conspiracy. While in the
Tower he fell so grievously ill as to excite the Lieutenant's
compassion, and Sir Henry appears to have interceded with the Queen on
his behalf.

"To the Right Worshipful Sir Henry Bedingfeld, Knight, Lieutenant of
the Queen's Highness's Tower of London. Francis Malet, Priest.

"Right Worshipful,--After my hearty commendations these shall be to
certify your Mastership that where your charity was declared in that it
pleased you to take pains to declare by your wise and discreet letters
the piteous state of Lewkner, your prisoner, I was thereby the more
ready and yet not wanting the counsel of a counseller to move the
Queen's goodness in the matter. And her Grace being content to take
into her hands your letter, and going with it into her privy chamber,
said she would consider the matter, and that I should learn what her
Grace's resolute mind will be therein. And therefore to tarry this
messenger any longer at this time I thought but folly, for that I shall
be ready sooner at night if it please her Highness to understand what
answer she will make to my suit; or if it will not be known this night,
as I doubt, for her Grace is as it were ever defatigate with her late
business in dispatching the King of Bohemia's ambassadors, I shall know
as soon as I may what her Grace's determination shall be; and that
known, I shall with all expedition intimate the same unto you, that so
the poor man may be certified of her Grace's pleasure. And in the
meantime I shall most heartily beseech your Mastership to continue your
favour towards the man; and divers of those that be most nigh unto her
Grace's person desire the same at your hands, and saith plainly that
the Queen's Grace will not be discontent that he may have all the
commodity that may be showed him for the recovery of his health within
the Tower. I pray God show His will mercifully upon him, and I trust
the Queen's goodness shall be extended withal unto him to his great
comfort, as knoweth Almighty Jesus, who send you with much worship long
to live and well to live in both soul and body. Scribbled in haste with
the running hand of yours to command, Francis Malet, Priest."

The above letter is undated, but the sequel to the story is related by
the Lieutenant himself in the minutes of a letter to the Council.

"Please it your Grace and my Lords to be advertised that this present
Sunday, the 6th September, Edward Lewkner, prisoner, attainted by long
sickness, departed this transitory life to God, about the hour of eight
of the clock of the night. Who was a willing man in the forenoon of
this day to have received the blessed Sacrament, but the priest that
did serve in the absence of the . . . * did think him so well that it
was meet to be ministered to him but after he had heard his confession.
He did minister unto him the Sacrament of Oiling, or Extreme Unction,
at the which I was present. Tomorrow I intend by God's grace to see him
buried in form appertaining to his condition in life, as I have learned
of those that have seen the like order. Instead of a will he charged me
with his service to the Queen's Majesty, that it might please her
Highness, after forgiveness of his offences towards the same, to
vouchsafe to have pity of his wife and ten poor children, which I
promised to do upon my next waiting upon her Majesty, humbly beseeching
your Lordships all in time most meet to be good lords to the same his
petition. And so as your poor beadsman I take my leave of you.

"From the Queen's Majesty's Tower of London 1556, the night aforesaid,
about 11 of the clock.

"Henry Bedyngfeld."

* Illegible in the manuscript.


Many other letters among this collection give evidence of the kindness
and pity bestowed by the Lieutenant on the prisoners in the Tower, and
the consideration with which their friends were treated, these being
admitted to see them whenever it was practicable. His relations with
nearly all the members of the Privy Council were intimate and cordial,
but perhaps his closest friend was Sir Henry Jerningham, who was not
only a colleague, but the chosen companion of the rare occasions that
were devoted to recreation and pleasure. Their two families had always
been on terms of affectionate intimacy, although it was not until two
generations later that they became allied by marriage, when Thomas
Bedingfeld of Oxburgh, Sir Henry's grandson, married Frances, daughter
and co-heir of John Jerningham of Somerleyton.

On the 16th February 1557, Sir Henry Jerningham, having occasion to
write to the Lieutenant of the Tower on business, ended his letter thus:

"I do and will labour all that I can to have your company into Norfolk
this Lent, to course the hare and hawk the heron. And thus I commit you
to God, praying Him to send us our prosperity. Your assured friend,
Henry Jerningham."

During the years 1553, 1554, and 1557, Sir Henry Bedingfeld sat in
Parliament as one of the knights of the shire for Norfolk. In 1557 he
succeeded Sir Henry Jerningham as Captain of the Yeoman of the Guard,
at which time he was also made vice Chamberlain. But Mary's death in
1558 closed his public career, and he retired to Oxburgh, which, hemmed
in on the south side by miles of fen country, was in those days for all
practical purposes entirely cut off from the world. It was probably
during a temporary absence, and when he was purposing to entertain
guests in his beautiful Norfolk home, that the following letter was
written to him presumably by his steward:--

To the right worshipful and my especial good friend Sir Henry
Bedingfeld, Knight, be this delivered.

"Pleaseth it your Mastership that according to your Mastership's
commandment, I did write to Mr. R and he was not at home. I shall go to
him again, and you shall know by the next messenger; you shall
understand what plate and bedding may be had at his hand. What number
of capons and hens your Mastership would have me to provide I would
desire to know by the next messenger. I doubt fat capons are hard to be
gotten in these parts, therefore if you had any that were ready fed, or
could get any that were fed in Suffolk they might be stayed till the
time you should require them, and have them killed, and carried dead,
and have again instead of them fine lean capons. Lean capons are at 8d.
the piece, and 9d. and 10d. and 12d. Geese are at 6d. and 7d. a piece.
Lean hens 4d. and 5d. Wild fowl was never so hard to be gotten. There
is little taken; the fowlers do say the cause is the weather is so
rainy, and there is as much wait laid for the getting of it as ever
there was for my Lady's Grace and for divers others. I have done as
much as I could to have gotten some for your Mastership, and for my
masters your sons, and could get but six teals. Since Christmas there
is sent you of your own hawk's killing, eleven teals, two mallards, and
eleven bitterns. And I humbly take my leave of your Mastership. From
Oxburgh, 20 of December 1563, by your poor servant,

"Wm. Deye."

It would not have been surprising if Sir Henry Bedingfeld had fallen
more or less into disgrace at this time, for Elizabeth might now, if
she had wished, made him feel the effects of his "scrupulousness"
during the period of her captivity. The following letter from the queen
shows, however, that such was not the case:

"To our trusty and well-beloved Sir Henry Bedingfeld, Knight.

"Elizabeth R By the Quene.

"Trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well. Like as we doubt not, but
by the common report of the world, it appeareth what great
demonstrations of hostility the French make towards this realm, by
transporting great powers into Scotland, upon the pretence only of
their going about the conquest of the same, so have we thought meet
upon more certainty to us of their purpose, to have good regard thereto
in time. And being very jealous of our town of Berwick, the principal
key of all our realm, we have determined to send with speed, succours
both thitherward and to our frontier, as well horsemen as footmen, and
do also send our right trusty and entirely beloved cousin, the Duke of
Norfolk, to be our Lieutenant-General of all the North, from Trent
forward. For which purpose we have addressed our letters to sundry our
nobility and gentlemen in like manner as we do this unto you, willing
and requiring you as you tender and respect the honour of us and surety
of your country, to put in readiness, with all speed possible, one able
man, furnished with a good strong horse or gelding, and armed with a
corselet, and to send the same to Newcastle by such day, and with such
further order for the furniture as shall be appointed to you by our
trusty and well-beloved Sir Edward Wyndham, Knight, and Sir Christopher
Heydon, Knight, whom we have advertised of our further pleasure in that
behalf. And at the arriving of the said horseman at Newcastle, he shall
not only receive money for his route and conduct, but also beside his
wage shall be, by the discretion of our said cousin of Norfolk, so used
and entreated as ye shall not need to doubt of the safe return of the
same, if the casualty of death be not impeached. And herein we make
such sure account of your forwardness as we thereupon have signified
among others to our said cousin this our appointment and commandment.
So shall we make account of you in that behalf, whereof we pray you
fail not.

"Given under our signet at our Palace of Westminster, the 25th day of
September, in the second year of our reign."*

* The original letter is at Oxburgh.


It was in consideration of this or of some other service rendered about
this time that Elizabeth granted to Sir Henry Bedingfeld and to his
heirs for ever, the manor of Caldecot, in Norfolk "with the
impropriation thereof."

An undated manuscript, preserved at Oxburgh, containing a plan of an
itinerary for the queen's progress into Norfolk, would seem to support
the tradition that Elizabeth visited that place. Perhaps she intended
to visit it, for immediately after Walsingham, which then belonged to
the Sidneys, occurs the sentence: "Thence to Oxburgh, Sir Henry
Bedingfelds."* This document is printed in Blomefield's History of
Norfolk, and the date assigned to it is 1578, presumably because this
was the only time at which Elizabeth visited Norfolk. There are,
however, no details of any visit to Oxburgh, and Dr. Jessopp,
considering that the place was quite out of the line of progress, is of
the opinion that she never went there at all.**

* The so-called Queen's room, a large apartment above that in which
Henry VII. undoubtedly slept may, it appears to the present writer,
have been occupied by Elizabeth of York, wife of Henry VII., who, it is
well known, accompanied him on, at least, one pilgrimage to Walsingham.
As she also was Queen Elizabeth, this may account for the tradition,

** One Generation of a Norfolk House, p. 61.


But there are other and more weighty reasons than those of distance for
arriving at this conclusion. From the year 1569, when the foremost
English Catholics attempted to liberate Mary Queen of Scots, the penal
laws against Papists were redoubled in severity, and those who still
clung to the old religion fell into disfavour. Elizabeth did indeed
visit Euston Hall, near Thetford, in 1578, and Mr. Rookwood presumed to
kiss her hand. But the Lord Chamberlain severely reprimanded him for so
doing, sternly bade him stand aside, and charged him with being a
recusant, unfit to be in the presence, much less to touch the sacred
person, of his sovereign. He was required to attend the Council, under
surveillance, and when he reached Norwich, in the queen's train, was
committed to jail.

Many other recusants were treated in 1578 as Rookwood was. Two of the
Lovells, Humphrey Bedingfeld of Quidenham, Sir Henry's brother, one
Parry, and two others, "not worth memory for badness of belyffe," were
confined in Norwich Castle" for obstinate papystrie."*

* Mason, History of Norfolk, p. 150.


"At Norwich, the Queen lodged at the bishop's palace, and spent her
time, as far as the bad weather would allow, in listening to absurd
speeches and witnessing grotesque pageants, but on the 19th August, she
suddenly resolved to go a-hunting in the park of Cossey, five miles
from Norwich, which belonged to Mr. Henry Jerningham, ancestor of the
present Lord Stafford. Once more her host was a recusant, but this time
it would have been too shameless to proceed against him. Mr. Jerningham
had made himself very conspicuous in opposing the abominable attempts
to set aside Mary and Elizabeth as heirs to the Crown at the death of
Edward VI., and in return for his loyalty, had received this very
domain of Cossey at Queen Mary's hands; but for him and his gallantry
twenty years before, Elizabeth herself might never have been on the
throne. So Mr. Jerningham was left unmolested at present, though his
time was to come by-and-bye, and when three days after, the Council met
and made order for the committal to jail of such of the Norfolk gentry
as had not kept their church, and upon whom the hand of power had been
so astutely laid, Mr. Jerningham's name was omitted, though his
kinsman's, Mr. Bedingfeld's, name figures on the list, only to appear
again and again hereafter."*

*One Generation of a Norfolk House, p. 62. Dr. Jessopp is mistaken in
identifying this Mr. Jerningham with the friend and ally of Sir Henry
Bedingfeld, who was associated with him in placing Mary on the throne.
Sir Henry Jerningham died in 1572, aged 63, and Elizabeth's host at
Cossey was his son.


Among the Acts of the Privy Council for 1578, it is stated that:--"This
day [August 24th], there appeared before their lordships, as warned by
the Sheriff of Norfolk, amongst persons refusing to come to the church
within that county, Sir Henry Bedingfeld, Knight, and Edmund Wyndham,
Doctor of the Civil Law, who, standing in their obstinacy in refusing
to come to the church in time of prayer, sermons, and other divine
service, were ordered, as others of the same sort before, at Norwich:
Sir Henry Bedingfeld to be bound in 500 pounds, and Mr. Wyndham in 200
pounds, with the like conditions as they that were bound to remain in
their lodgings at Norwich, as by their obligations remaining in the
Council Chest it may appear. And for that their lordships were informed
that divers of the household servants of Sir Henry Bedingfeld did and
do refuse likewise to come to the church, it was ordered that the Lord
Bishop of Norwich, or some person appointed by him, should visit his
household, and so many of his said servants as should refuse to conform
themselves to come to the church should be discharged by the said
Bishop or his visitors, in that case, from his service."

The Council then wrote to two justices of the peace in Norfolk,
ordering them to discharge Sir Henry's servants "that will not come to
church as is above said, and that they be not maintained by the said
Sir Henry Bedingfeld nor any other of their friends with any exhibition
or otherwise, wheresoever they shall bestow themselves, nor that there
be not any other servants admitted to serve Sir Henry Bedingfeld in any
place or office about him that shall be suspected to be of that
disposition in religion." On receiving an order to present himself
before the Privy Council, Sir Henry, although suffering from illness,
set out for London. This letter, signed by five of the members, met him
on the road:--

"To our loving friend, Sir Henry Bedingfeld, Knight.

"After our hearty commendations. Whereas we are given to understand
that upon some letters heretofore written, you are on the way repairing
hither, forasmuch as we are informed by your son-in-law, Henry
Seckford, that your sickness and infirmity is such as without danger
you may not travel, we are very well contented if you shall not like to
repair up, that you return again to the place where you were committed,
there to remain until such time as further order shall be taken with
you. And so fare you well.

"From Richmond, the 1st Dec. 1578."

Further relief was extended to him, as appears by another letter from
the Council, allowing him to remain in his house till Lady Day, when he
was to appear and answer to the charge of papistry, "unless in the
meantime God shall turn his heart otherwise."

Slight as were the penalties inflicted on Sir Henry when compared with
those which his brothers were called upon to endure, troubles were not
wanting to him in his old age He was not only a prisoner within five
miles of his own house, subject to heavy fines for the privilege of
absenting himself from the new service, but he was liable at any time
to have his house searched* for priests and church-stuff, to have his
household dismissed, and to be called on to endure religious
conferences. He was, moreover, in feeble health, and to complete his
misfortunes, his devoted wife was taken from him. On this occasion a
letter from eight members of the Privy Council was delivered to him:--

* For "the search at Mr. Bedingfeld's house," and the anonymous letter
which led to it, see Calendar of State Payers, Dom. Eliz. 1581-1590, p.
648, No. 76. A copy of a letter found directed to Cromwell accused Sir
Henry of treasonable designs in conjunction with papists and recusants.
"Diligent searches have been made at the house of Mr. Henry
Bedingfelde, but nothing suspicious found."


"To our loving friend, Sir Henry Bedingfeld.

"We commend us unto you. Whereas about three years past, when you were
sent for to have appeared before us, touching your disobedience in
Religion, we were then moved in consideration of your sickness and
infirmity, and the humble suit of Henry Seckford, your son, you being
then in the way hitherward, to licence you to return back unto your own
house, whither you were before committed, there to remain until further
order should be taken with you. And whereas at this time your son has
made like humble suit unto us that you may be suffered to remove from
your said house unto St. Mary's, Wignollen, in Marshland, a house of
your daughter Seckford, there to remain for a season until you may pass
over the grief and remembrance of the lady, your wife, lately deceased,
these are in that respect to give you licence so to do. And therefore
you may, at your liking remove to that place, continuing yourself in
like degree of restraints as you did in your own house, and these shall
be your warrant in that behalf. So fare you well.

"From the Court at Whitehall, 28 of Dec. 1581. Your loving friends."*

* Exactly the same treatment was endured by his descendant Sir Henry
Arundell Bedingfeld in 1713. The following instance affords a proof of
the extraordinary persistence with which the penal laws against
Catholics were enforced 110 years after Elizabeth's death.


"Licence from the justices, August 10, 1713, for Sir Henry Bedingfeld
to go from home for a month.

"Whereas Sir Henry Bedingfeld of Oxburgh, Bart., being a recusant, and
confined to the usual place of his abode, or within the compass of five
miles from the same, and whereas it has been represented to us on the
part of the said Sir Henry Bedingfeld that he has very necessary and
urgent business, which does require his attention at this time, and
whereas the said Sir Henry Bedingfeld has made an oath before us of the
truth of the same, and that he will not make any causeless stay from
his said place of habitation, we therefore, four of his Majesty's
Justices of the Peace for the said county upon examination taken by us
as of the premisses, do give this our licence to the said Sir Henry
Bedingfeld to travel out of the precincts or compass of five miles from
the place of his abode limited by the statute at all times, from the 13
of this instant August, until the thirteenth of September following, by
which time he is to return again to his place of abode at the parish of
Oxburgh, aforesaid. Given under our hand and seal this Loth of August
1713." Signed in the margin, "E. Bacon, T. De Grey, Tho. Wright, Nath.
Life, H. Partridge, Dep. Lieut. I do assent to this licence."

Sir Henry Bedingfeld succumbed to his infirmities in 1583, and was
buried in the Bedingfeld chapel in Oxburgh church, where an elaborate
monument to his memory may still be seen. It is to be regretted that
the loss of the Privy Council Registers for the year 1583 entails also
the loss of any mention of the last days of this celebrated Englishman.



IV. THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION IN GERMANY

In spite of the valiant efforts of isolated Catholic reformers in
Germany, to stem the tide of corruption which threatened to sweep the
Church into a vortex of ruin, for a long time little impression was
made on the vast sea of abuses, and but little permanent good was
effected. It almost seemed as though the Poor Clares of Nuremburg, the
brave Dominicanesses of Strassburg, Johannes Busch, Johannes Geiler,
Cardinal Nicholas of Cusa, St. John Capistran, the Brethren of the
Common Life, and the celebrated author of the Imitation of Christ had
lived and fought, suffered and preached, in vain. They, and some few
others were like brilliant meteors, only making the darkness of the
night more apparent.

The nations were as little responsive to preachers of reform as were
the princes of Europe to the appeals of the Pope for a crusade against
the infidel Turk, who menaced, after his conquest of Constantinople,
the very centre of Christendom. While the citadel was in danger, those
who should have assembled vast cohorts in its defence were either
suffering from the inertia that follows on some kinds of disease, or
were actively employed in spreading the new heresies. Then at last
struck the hour for the dawning of a new day. And here perhaps lies the
solution to the problem why so much energy, self-denial, penance on the
part of the preachers of reform, produced so little result; why such
brave efforts failed to restore, renew and edify the Church. Was she
then incapable of rising to a new life? The answer lies in the words of
her Divine Founder: "My hour is not yet come." Until then, all
reformers preached more or less in the wilderness; for few had ears to
hear. God's hour was assuredly winging its flight, but it would not
come till the Church was almost in extremis; till decay of faith
following on decay of morals threatened her very existence. The
catastrophe was hastened by the fatal pouring of the new wine of the
later Renaissance into the old, now worn-out bottles of Mediaevalism,
thereby paganising Rome and corrupting the College of Cardinals to so
large an extent, that the election to the papacy of a Rodrigo Borgia
was made possible.

Neither the fiery denunciations of Fra Girolamo Savonarola, nor the
cold sarcasms of Erasmus of Rotterdam had a more lasting effect on the
world than had Busch's missionary zeal or Geiler's ascetic discourses.
Then arose Martin Luther, and centered in himself all those scandals
and floating heresies, which for a hundred years had poisoned the
spiritual and intellectual atmosphere. Insidious disease lurking in
dark places was now become a stalking pestilence that braved the
daylight unabashed. Faith was all but moribund. But the Church's
extremity was God's opportunity; His hour had struck at last, and the
spirit of the Lord brooded on the face of the waters.

Then the whole situation was changed. The enemy was not yet crushed,
but formidable hosts were everywhere set in opposition to him. Instead
of isolated efforts there was an almost universal movement towards
reform. Begun in Italy, it spread into every country of Europe.
Seminaries sprang up for the education of priests; St. Philip Neri
became the Apostle of Rome, St. Charles Borromeo that of Milan. The
Order of Theatines was founded, and the Barnabite Order, devoted to the
education of youth was ready to send its members wherever the need was
greatest. Above all, the long-deferred General Council, assembled at
Trent in 1545, gave cohesion to all the various movements that were set
on foot by defining disputed doctrines, and by drawing up a formula
which declared the belief of the Catholic Church on all points attacked
by the new sectaries. The Church was threatened with a dozen heresies,
but so completely did she vindicate her doctrines at the Council of
Trent, that for more than three hundred years no further General
Council was needed. If Italy may boast of the victories achieved by her
great Catholic reformers, France, though somewhat later in the field
had her Bossuet, Bourdaloue, St. Francis of Sales, St. Vincent of Paul,
and many other Catholic champions. To Spain were given St. Ignatius of
Loyola, St. Francis Borgia, St. Francis Xavier, St. Peter of Alcantara,
St. John of the Cross, St. John of God, St. Joseph Calasanctius, St.
Teresa, and others whose names have first added a splendour to their
native land, and have then gone forth to illumine the uttermost ends of
the earth.

St Ignatius died in 1556, but the effect of the Society of Jesus on the
Church was only just beginning. One of the earliest and most important
tasks of his immediate disciples was the formation of the Carmelite nun
Teresa, and her spiritual guidance in the unusual paths she was called
to tread. Even in Catholic Spain hearts had grown cold and minds lax.
The religious houses had long fallen from their first fervour. During
the space of sixteen years St. Teresa founded seventeen convents, all
following the original strict Carmelite rule. As early as 1474 Pope
Eugenius IV. had formed the project of re-establishing the strict
observance of the rule in all religious communities, but the times were
not then favourable for carrying it out. He had therefore approved
provisionally of a mitigated rule for all Carmelite houses, by means of
which discipline was to be restored. The Carmelite general, John
Soreth, made great efforts to enforce it, but his success was partial
and short-lived.

In 1524, when Teresa de Ahumeda was still a child, Clement VII.
addressed a brief to the General Chapter of the Carmelites, assembled
at Venice, commanding them to reform their order. The brief was
cordially received, and the Chapter passed many resolutions all aiming
at the removal of abuses, such as the careless and hasty admission of
members, so that thenceforth no person might be received into the order
without the consent of the provincial, or before the age of fifteen.
Another resolution passed in this Chapter referred to the private
property of the friars; but lest more harm than good should be done by
sudden and violent measures, it was decreed that in every province
certain houses should be set apart for those members who had received
the mitigated rule of Pope Eugenius, and who were therefore considered
as reformed. But together with these houses others should be tolerated
for a season, while the religious were gradually accustomed to a state
of discipline. Those who had not accepted the mitigated rule were to be
allowed temporarily to enjoy their patrimony, as also the emoluments
accruing to them from teaching, preaching, and other services rendered.
There was to be no difference in their treatment, and the religious
habit was to be the same for the reformed and the unreformed brethren.
Subsequent Chapters-General continued to pass similar wise regulations,
but they were by no means promptly carried out; and at Vicenza, in
1539, it was decreed that provincials and friars must undertake the
reform of their convents in the course of one year, in default of which
their subjects were to be released from the obedience they owed them.
Only reformed friars might be elected superiors.*

* Monsignanus, Bullarium, ii. 59 c, 47 b.


At this assembly, the representatives of the Lower Rhine Province were
Theodoric of Gouda, Martin Cuperus, and Eberhard Billick. They
presented a petition praying that the Universities of Mainz and Trier
might be included in the course open to Carmelite students, the reason
being that in order to successfully combat the Lutheran heresies, great
need was felt of men of wide knowledge, possessing degrees high enough
to inspire respect in their opponents. Many students, by reason of the
evil times, were not in a position to meet the expenses attendant upon
a sojourn at Cologne and Louvain, and the living at Mainz and Trier was
cheaper. To this petition the Carmelite general answered by ranking
Cologne first, Louvain second, Mainz third, and Trier fourth, in the
curriculum of studies.

But the progress made in Germany was the reverse of rapid; opposition
was encountered at every step; nevertheless, the resolutions passed at
the Chapter-General at Venice in 1524, had introduced the thin end of
the wedge, and it is apparent from the decrees of the Provincial
Chapter held at Mechlin in 1531, and presided over by the general
himself, that nearly all the houses of the Lower Rhine Province had by
that time accepted the mitigated rule. It was enforced in this Chapter
that if a convent fell away from the reform, the provincial was to
appoint a reformed prior, and to send thither reformed brethren. Friars
who refused the reform were to be banished for ten years. Another
accentuated point was the rule which forbade the possession of private
property. One common purse only was allowed, and thenceforth, no
Carmelite might, under pain of excommunication, keep money in his
possession for more than twenty-four hours. Absolution for an
infringement of this rule could only be obtained from the provincial or
general. Those religious, who at their death were found to possess
property were to be buried in unconsecrated ground. When, a year later,
Theodoric of Gouda presented himself at the Chapter-General held at
Padua, he was able to state that the Lower Rhine Province had joined
the observance, and was entitled to the privileges belonging thereto.

But another and more insidious danger had arisen. In many of the
Carmelite houses of Germany the new doctrines had been more than
favourably received; and at Strassburg, the rector, Tilmann Lyn had
been deprived of his office for having openly preached the Lutheran
heresy. Three other friars of the same house who with him had gone
astray were imprisoned. In vain the friars were forbidden, under pain
of excommunication, to possess or to read books that had been condemned
by the Holy See. Heretical writings continued to find entrance into
many of the religious houses, and were even read aloud in refectories,
and used as text-books by the professors. It must, however, be admitted
that some of these books, including several works of Erasmus which were
also prohibited, would now scarcely come into the category of heretical
writings. Still, many of the diatribes which Erasmus permitted himself
against the religious orders were not in any sense edifying, though
there was much truth in his pungent satire; so that the papal legate
Aleander did not hesitate to declare that the Dutch scholar had done
more to undermine faith than even Luther, and he accused him of being
the fomenter of all the troubles, of subverting the Netherlands, and
all the Rhine district. This may indeed have been the truth indirectly
in spite of the certainty that Erasmus had no intention of playing into
the hands of the Lutherans, whom he hated. But he was a cynic, and a
cynic's eyes are not the best through which to see things. The monks
offended him, and he poured out upon them, not the vials of his wrath
but the sharp vinegar of sarcasm. His favourite, oft-recurring themes,
the ignorance, immorality, and greed to be found in monasteries, the
quarrelsomeness and worldliness of the friars would lead the unwary to
suppose that there was not a religious community left where the rule
was kept and the religious led commonly respectable lives. But even a
slight acquaintance with Erasmus shows us that he is incapable of
justice towards monks and friars. They loved scholasticism, the enemy
which he considered himself born to slay, and there was war to the
knife between him and all upholders of Scotus and Aquinas. The monks of
the Charterhouse, who died the death of martyrs rather than perjure
themselves, win no meed of praise from Erasmus--they were, forsooth,
schoolmen; and the noble Friars-Observants who, when threatened with a
living tomb in the river Thames, for the same cause, calmly replied
that the road to heaven was as near by water as by land, are nothing to
him, for did they not learn their theology of Duns Scotus. Even Henry
VIII. himself at one time begged the Pope's favour for the Observants,
saying that he could not sufficiently express his admiration for their
strict adherence to poverty, for their sincerity, their charity, their
devotion;* but they were Scotists, and Erasmus could not therefore
admire them.

* Henry VIII. to Leo X., Add. MS. 15,387, f. 17; B.M. Printed by Ellis,
3, 1st series, 165.


From his own showing it appears that the Canons Regular of St.
Augustine at Emmaus in Holland led a good life, but he makes no
honourable exception of them when he denounces other houses. He
complains of all monks that they are gluttons and wine-bibbers, utterly
careless of their rule; yet his own plea for returning to the world
after taking his vows is that his health would not stand the fasts and
vigils, the long prayers and the fish diet, things which accord ill
with a reputation for laxity. In a letter to his former prior, he says:
"I left my profession, not because I had any fault to find with it, but
because I would not be a scandal to the order." And again, "My
constitution was too weak to bear your rule."* These are either empty
phrases, or they mean that the life was a strict one.

* Life and Letters of Erasmus, lectures delivered at Oxford by J. A.
Froude, pp. 24, 162.


Nevertheless it would be idle to say that there was not or had not been
a great falling-off in the fervour of monks and friars generally at
this period. As the new doctrines spread, so did also the distaste for
the religious life, and the number of those who renounced their vows
increased yearly. But many, from various causes, soon repented, and
desired to return to the cloister, and it became necessary to legislate
for such contingencies also. Moreover, it was made obligatory on every
prior to arrest notorious apostates, and all those who, without letters
of obedience, or who, abusing them, were found wandering about the
country. They were to be punished conformably to the rule, and if
necessary were to be imprisoned.

One good effect at least resulted from Erasmus's attacks on the
ignorance of monks, and this was the revival of learning in most of the
religious orders. Every inducement was offered by the Carmelite
superiors in the Lower Rhine Province to cultivate a taste for study.
Those who had gone through a three or four years' course of theology
creditably had a distinct right to a post of some dignity, and took
rank immediately after those priests of the order who had celebrated
their jubilee, and before all conventuals who had an inferior record as
to studies. The faithful discharge of offices for a prolonged period
was also rewarded by honourable recognition. The sentiments thus
appealed to may not have been of the loftiest, but it must be
remembered that the reform was to be gradual, and higher motives could
be suggested when the subject was ready for them. The superiors of this
province were supported in all their efforts by the general, who was
bent on a thorough renewal of the religious spirit throughout the
Order; but in the midst of all these righteous aspirations it is a
little startling to find that a decree of the Chapter-General was
needed to put down drinking-bouts in sundry houses of the Rhine
Province.*

* Dr. Alois Postina, Der Karmelit Eberhard Billick. Ein Lebensbild aus
dem 16, Jahrhundert, Freiburg im Breisgau, 1901, p. 25.


In 1541, Eberhard Billick was appointed provincial, and almost
immediately began to visit the houses in his jurisdiction. At Cologne
he found a condition of things sufficient to make the boldest reformer
quail. The Lutherans had entirely gained the upper hand, and a certain
Count William of Neuenar and Mors, who had been for some tine a
follower of the new doctrines, was bent on introducing them by force
into Mors. He first forbade the practise of the Catholic religion among
his tenants, and then tried to seduce the religious. They were
forbidden to say Mass except on Sundays, and then even none outside the
convent were to be admitted to it. Their church was given over to the
Lutherans, and the friars were forced into being present at the
Protestant sermons. Not content with this, Count William inflicted
seven Lutheran beneficiaries upon them, obliging them to lodge and feed
them gratis. Lutheran preachers and school teachers were salaried out
of the convent revenues, which the Count managed by fraud and cunning
to confiscate. That portion of the convent buildings which bordered on
his property he turned into stables for his own horses, so that
entrance to the friar's quarters was open to his servants, while the
Carmelites were themselves forbidden to go in and out on that side.

The new Provincial succeeded in time by dint of courage and firmness,
in getting back all that the Count had seized by force; but other
houses were in as deplorable a condition, and little could be done to
improve matters. Billick appealed to the Emperor, who had taken all the
Carmelite convents in Lower Germany under his protection; but the
Emperor's goodwill surpassed his power to help, the whole of his money
and energy being needed to oppose the Turks, the French, and the Duke
of Cleves.

The greatest danger and difficulty lay in the behaviour of Count
Hermann of Wied, Archbishop and Elector of Cologne. From the outset his
rule had been detrimental to the Church. The best that could be said of
him in his youth was that he was "kind and peace-loving, fond of
hunting, but not particularly learned." Charles V., in a letter to the
landgrave Philip of Hessen, who had joined the Lutherans, says: "How
should the good man be able to reform his diocese? He has no Latin, and
has never said more than three Masses in his life. He does not even
know the Confiteor." Philip replied: "I can assure your Majesty that he
reads German industriously, and interests himself in religious
questions."

Unfortunately, these "

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